A/N: Late? I'm not late. That's what she said. Badum. Ching.
Finn, Artie, and Sam sang "I'm on a Boat" by The Lonely Island last chapter by the way.
Rachel blinked and immediately knew that she was in a dream. Or a nightmare.
It was the same field she was in just a few nights ago. Only this time, she wasn't running through it and, as she moved her arms and legs around, she had more control of her own body. She could feel and smell the freshly cut grass underneath her feet just like before and a look down showed that she was wearing the pure white dress and flat shoes again.
When she looked up, the field of grass was lined with rows and rows of tombstones. Mindful of her previous experience in this dream world, she took a few cautious steps forward and looked around to see if she could spot whatever had made that terrible noise she heard before. Another step was taken, then another, then a few more, and with each step Rachel gained more and more confidence that nothing would happen to her this time.
The granite of the tombstone felt smooth as she ran her hand across it and more importantly, it felt real. In fact, everything around her looked, felt, smelled, and sounded real, but when she looked down at the tombstones there was only fuzzy black shapes where the lettering should have been. Looking closer at the world, she saw that there were other little details in the world that were off: lines of tombstones stretched to the horizon without end, trees rustled in the wind even though there was no wind, and most noticeably, the clouds shifted and swirled in physically impossible ways.
While the list of inconsistencies grew in Rachel's head, a pair of strong hands picked her up then cradled underneath her, giving her a seat against his hip. This seat brought her face to face with Hiram.
"Here you are. I've been looking all over for you."
"Daddy!" she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Apparently, she was no longer in control of her body since that was not particularly what she wanted to say or do.
"I know this is new and exciting for you but try not to run off again okay sweetie?"
"Okay daddy," she heard herself say to what she realized was a distraught Hiram, who was trying and failing to put on a happy face.
That face combined with the field of tombstones made Rachel realize that she was at a funeral and with the white dress she was wearing she knew the funeral had to be the one for Christopher Hudson.
"Daddy." A few tears streamed down Hiram's face. "Why are you crying?"
Hiram sniffed a few times. "It's nothing honey, Daddy's friend is just leaving on a trip for a while and this makes Daddy sad."
Rachel had always felt too much, it was what made her an excellent and critically acclaimed Broadway actor, but this same quality had always made her sensitive to other people's emotions. She fed off the emotions of the people around her, having happy people around her made her happier and vice versa. As she grew older, her ability to control this became better and better but it was one of the reasons why she always enjoyed going to parties and being around happy people. However, her young age on this day, combined with the fact the upset person was her daddy, made her eyes well up and caused her to sniffle in preparation for some major water works.
"Honey," Hiram said as he brushed her cheek. "I know it's hard but can you try and be a big girl for daddy today and not cry?"
Rachel sniffed a few times before she rubbed the tears from her eyes. "Okay, I'll try."
Hiram smiled. "That's my girl."
"When is your friend coming back?"
"I don't know," Hiram said as he smiled sadly. "He might never come back."
"Why not?"
"Because," he said after thinking about it for a moment. "There are some trips that you can't come back from."
"Oh…" Rachel looked down and frowned as she thought the statement over before she looked up and asked, "Where's dad?"
The sad smile turned into a frown. "Dad is off taking pictures somewhere." He bounced her a few times against his hip. "Come on, time to get to our seats."
Rachel blinked and found herself sitting in front of an open gravesite. Still a passenger in her own dream, she looked to her left and saw an empty chair, a little boy, and a crying Carole. When she looked to her right, she saw a crying Hiram and it took all she had to not follow her daddy and burst out into tears, but she had promised him to be a big girl and big girls could control when they cried.
Looking past Hiram, a casket team of eight carried a coffin across the grass, preceded by a chaplain. The casket team slowly marched in perfect lockstep in their dress uniforms as they reached the gravesite and gently placed the casket on the lowering device.
What few wrinkles that formed on the flag during the trip were smoothed over as one of the men made sure it was centered on the casket. That task complete, he joined his fellow soldiers off to the side and the chaplain began the service. His somber task was accompanied by a soundtrack of crickets and muffled sobs and when he finished he looked over and nodded at the men in uniform lined up to his left, the first of whom wore a sword instead of holding a rifle tilted away from their bodies.
The sword holder took two steps forward, made a crisp left turn, and then took another step before turning around to face the rest of the men waiting at rest. He waited a beat before his voice rang out. "Detail. Order, ARMS."
The remaining seven men brought their feet together and tucked their rifles, made out of wood and steel long ago for a different time, tight against their legs.
"Port, ARMS."
Rifles were picked up in three distinct, but smooth, motions.
"Right, FACE."
The seven men turned 90 degrees to their right.
"Ready."
The rifles were brought up and braced against their shoulders, pointing above the casket.
"Aim."
The safeties made an audible click as they were turned off.
"Fire."
Seven rifles rang out as one. Rachel jumped in her seat. A flock of birds flew out of a grove of trees.
"Ready."
The men cycled the bolts so a new blank cartridge was ready to fire.
"Aim."
The rifles were brought up to their shoulders again.
"Fire."
Though she was prepared for the noise, Rachel still jumped in her seat.
"Ready."
The rifle bolts were cycled for the final time.
"Aim."
Trees stopped rustling, crickets stopped chirping, and even Rachel held her breath. It was as if the entire world waited in anticipation.
"Fire."
The final shot rang out.
"Left, FACE."
The seven men crisply turned left to face the casket again.
"Present, ARMS."
In a sign of respect, all seven rifles were held out towards the casket. With a one final order, the three men on either side of the formation set down their rifles so each one rested against the other two, forming a tripod-like structure, and leaving the lone man in the middle to stand guard.
As the seven men began walking towards the casket, a single bugler began to play "Taps" and continued to play as the men reached the casket. The man wearing the sword split away to stand to the side of the seated people, while the other six took places and stood around the casket. Twelve times, the men meticulously folded the flag so that it finally resembled a triangle with the stars pointed upwards. When the folding was complete, the man off to the side stepped forward and took the flag from one of the six men.
After he turned around, he took two steps forward, knelt in front of Carole, and even though he spoke quietly, everyone in the field heard him when he said, "Ma'am. On behalf of the President of the United States, the Commandant of the Marine Corps, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's service to Country and Corps."
Rachel blinked and, as Carole took the flag from the man, the scene in front of her swirled away like water in a drain. It was replaced with the interior of an unknown house that she found herself wandering through.
Knickknacks and photographs lined shelves and tables. Dark reds, oranges, and browns covered the walls, floors, and furniture upholstery. And even though it looked like someone had tried to tidy things up, there was no mistaking that this was a house that people lived in and enjoyed living in. It was easily one of the warmest and most comfortable houses she had ever been in. In fact, the only one that could compare was the home she was currently dreaming in right now. The only things that brought coldness into the house were the men and women, all of whom were dressed in black. Aside from Rachel of course.
A conversation between someone in a uniform and Carole faded in as Rachel slowly wandered by the living room.
"…was an honor to have served with Chris and I wanted to let you know that he saved…"
She tried to will herself back towards the living room but her body wouldn't cooperate. It appeared her younger self was much more interested in exploring the house over listening in on conversations.
Carefully making her way through the people milling about, she found herself standing at the dead end of a hallway in front of a closet. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she turned around expecting to find her daddy, who had been trailing after her during her exploration. Except she didn't. All she saw was an empty hallway that looked frighteningly long and was growing longer with each passing second.
Still affected from the emotions she felt during the funeral and reception, a small whimper made its way past her lips as she gingerly took a few steps forward. With each step forward, the hallway seemed to grow longer and longer, bringing a sense of terror and tears that pricked at her eyes. As the fear rose, her steps became quicker and quicker until she was sprinting down the hallway.
Her sprinting continued for what felt like hours until a wall forced her to make a right turn. A blind right turn that made her run face first into someone's towering leg causing her to stumble backwards and almost fall over before a pair of hands reached down to steady her.
"Rachel honey, what are you doing back here?" Carole said, who owned the leg that caused her to stumble and also the hands that had steadied her afterwards.
"I was exploring."
"Were you having fun?"
Rachel nodded and looked up to find a sad face. And even though she knew it was Carole, her younger self couldn't shake the feeling that she had no idea who the person standing in front of her was.
"You don't remember me do you?"
Rachel shook her head, rubbed her nose, and began to cry as everything finally got to her.
"Where are your daddies honey?"
"I don't know," Rachel said through her tears with a shrug. "I lost them."
A small smile appeared on Carole's own tear streaked face. "You lost them?" She held out her hand. "C'mon, let's go find them."
The hand remained hanging there before Rachel rubbed her eyes and took it. Carole led her through the house as they looked for her parents, pausing every few moments as Carole stopped to chat with someone new and with each passing second Rachel could sense her younger self was more and more comfortable and safe being led around by the woman.
"Carole," a young man said as he walked up holding a phone. "It's the funeral director. He has some questions for you."
"Can it wait?"
"No," the man said as he shook his head. "It sounded pretty urgent."
"Can you wait for me here Rachel?" She took the phone and asked the man to stay with Rachel before she said, "I'll be right back, then we can look for your parents again."
Rachel nodded even though she didn't want Carole to leave and she really didn't want to wait around with this other person, but daddy asked her to be a big girl today so was determined to stay right where she was and not cry. This was easier said than done. After a few minutes, she began to cry again, and the man who brought over the phone failed at comforting her. The man's continued attempts to comfort her led to more failure until he ran off flustered in search of Carole, leaving Rachel all alone. More people tried to soothe her to no avail as her crying became louder and louder from the pressure of being alone with all these sad people.
She kept on crying when she felt someone poking her arm, causing her to look up and uncover her eyes. While she immediately knew it was Finn and giggled internally at his dress shoes, slacks, and shirt, her younger self furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at the boy around her age poking her.
"Who are you?" the boy asked.
"I— I'm Rachel Berry."
"Why are you crying?"
"Because I'm sad?"
"Why are you sad?"
"Because everyone else is sad," Rachel said as her tears stopped out of frustration with this boy. "Who are you and why are you asking me all these questions?"
"Uh," Finn said as he took a step back, not prepared for Rachel's shift in demeanor. "This is my home."
"You still haven't told me your name," Rachel said as she stepped forward and pressed her advantage. The funny thing, her older self noticed, was that she was taller than Finn at this age and growing taller by the second as Finn shrank back.
"Finn Hudson?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yea."
"But you didn't seem sure when you said your name."
"Yea well, I am sure," Finn said as he stood taller. "Why are you here?"
"My daddies brought me."
"Daddies?"
"I have two daddies," Rachel said as she held up a corresponding number of fingers.
"Lucky," Finn said as he looked down for a second and kicked at the carpet. "Where are they?"
"I—I don't know."
"Why not?"
Rachel's bottom lip quivered before she said, "Because I lost them!
Perhaps sensing that the conversation was tilting back in his favor, Finn leaned forward and said, "How could you lose your daddies?"
"I don't know," Rachel said, right before she covered her eyes and burst into tears again.
"Wait. I didn't mean it! Please stop crying?"
Her tears continued.
"Please?"
The tears kept flowing until she felt a hand tugging at her arm, pulling her own hand away from her face whereupon she saw Finn's horrified face through her tears. Finn's hand began to tug insistently on hers, trying to drag her somewhere. Not ever one to be dragged around by anyone, especially by a boy she didn't know, she resisted Finn's attempts while bawling her eyes out. Not that her resistance did her any good.
Finn pulled her along for a half dozen steps before they made a 180 degree turn and she stumbled over the first step of a staircase. His hand jerked upward and steadied her as she continued being dragged up the stairs. Her sense of time was lost as all she could hear and feel were the pounding of two sets of feet as they climbed and it seemed that they were climbing the stairs forever. Until they weren't. The trip down what Rachel assumed to be a hallway took no time at all in comparison. She tried to will her dream self to stop crying, open her eyes, and look around because, frankly, she was embarrassed at how much crying her younger self was doing. Eventually the lack of movement caused her to open her eyes and tears continued to stream down her face.
The first thing that caught her eye was the wallpaper. Cowboys and Indians repeated the same battles, rode the same horses, and lived the same lives. Up and down, left to right, over and over again. The rest of the room was a typical boy's room. A smattering of toys, clothes, books, and more toys covered the floor and bed and, like the rest of the house, it looked like there was an attempt to clean up the room that didn't that didn't quite work. The second thing she noticed was Finn's face as it continued to look horrified as tears kept streaming down Rachel's face. He looked around for a few seconds before he brought his hands up and rubbed her arms. This only made her close her eyes and cry even harder.
After she heard him scramble around a bit, she opened her eyes again and noticed the third and most interesting thing in the room which was an extremely familiar looking stuffed monkey staring her in the face.
"Here," Finn said with a hopeful look on his face.
She shook her head.
"Here," Finn said as he thrust the monkey further forward.
"I don't wanna," Rachel said as she shook her head again.
The monkey was shoved even further until it was grazing her nose and it continued to tickle her nose for a few seconds until she grabbed it from his outstretched hands. She couldn't explain it if she tried, but like magic, the sense of dread and terror she felt from not having her daddies around and surrounded by sad people melted away as she hugged the monkey to her chest.
"Better?"
She nodded as fresh tears stopped making their way down her face.
"Good…great," Finn said as he plopped down onto his bed. "Wonderful."
After sniffling a few times, she took a seat next to Finn where they spent the next minute or two in a comfortable silence.
"Can I keep him?"
"You can keep him for as long as you need."
"Thank you," she said as she hugged the monkey even tighter.
"I—" he started.
"Rachel!" They heard a male voice yelling from downstairs.
"Daddy!" Rachel said as she sprang up and ran down to the first floor where she found a frantic Hiram, Leroy, and Carole looking for her. As she reached the last few steps, she leapt into her daddy's arms and let out a sob.
After they finish clutching at each other, Hiram leaned back and rubbed her still wet cheeks before he said, "Where have you been young lady?"
"I wandered around," she said as she shrugged. "Then a nice lady tried to help me find you and dad, then I went upstairs with a boy, then I came back down here when you called."
Hiram slightly quirked his lips. "A boy?"
Rachel nodded. "He was nice." She presented her gift. "He gave me this monkey."
"Well, that was nice of him, but it's time to give it back. We need to go soon."
"No!" she said as she shook her head. "He said I could keep him!"
Hiram opened his mouth as if to protest before smiling and saying, "Okay honey, how can I argue if he said you could have him."
Two pairs of pounding feet ran up to them and Carole and Leroy both said, "You found her!"
"I sure did," Hiram said as he nodded. "Apparently, she was upstairs with a little boy. Even gave her a gift."
The other two adults stared at him for an instant before bursting out into laughter.
"Apparently Finn wants to get started at a young age," Leroy said.
"Oh, stop it," Carole said as she rolled her eyes and smacked him on the arm.
"If you can figure out how," Hiram said as he picked up Rachel. "Let me know. I'd happily pay for that info."
"For you, there'd be no charge."
"Always ganging up on me," Leroy said, shaking his head.
"Only because you deserve it," Hiram said as he spun around to face the other two adults.
This led to Rachel looking up over her daddy's shoulder, straight up the staircase where she saw Finn looking down at her with a smile on his face. She gave him a little wave, he waved back, and she smiled.
"I'm sorry we have to leave so soon," Leroy said.
"No, I understand," Carole said. "Thank you for coming all the way out here."
"There's no need to thank us," Hiram said as he bounced Rachel up and down a bit. "Of course, we'd be back for something like this."
Leroy nodded and hugged Carole. "If there's anything you need. Anything at all. Just give us a call."
"Thank you."
Carole hugged Hiram and Rachel at the same time before the Berry family made their way to the front door. With a final wave to Carole, they opened the door and walked out of the house.
The door slammed shut and Rachel woke up in her bed in Lima.
"No way. No way," she said to herself. "That's impossible."
Her right hand flailed around until it latched onto the thing she was looking for and pulled her old monkey up to her face. It was the one she had just dreamed about, a little worse for wear, but it looked pretty much the same. As she stretched out her arms above her and played around with her old monkey, her eyes spotted something on it and brought it closer to her face. With everything she had learned, there was no reason to doubt what was on the monkey, but she just didn't want to believe it. Too bad the final piece of evidence was staring her right in the face. There was a little tag on the monkey and on that tag were two faded letters, written by a marker long ago. Those two letters were an "F" and an "H".
"No. Fucking. Way."
Once again, something was off with Rachel and like last time, Finn had no idea what was causing it. She wasn't really speaking to him but unlike before, it didn't seem to be out of coldness. It was more like she was being absent minded about the things around her. At least this time, he was pretty sure that it wasn't his fault. Or at least he hoped it wasn't anything that he did because if the last time was any indication he wanted no part of Rachel's bad side ever again. He knew he hadn't been lying to her about anything and ran their interactions from the past few days through his head and came up with nothing.
"What do you mean we're not doing anything tonight?"
"I mean," Finn said as he finished washing his hands. "We're not doing anything tonight."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm playing poker tonight with the guys," Finn said as he began walking to the basement. "Which I told you a few days ago."
"Hmm," Rachel said as she tapped her lips with a finger. "I'm not sure I remember you telling me that."
"You know," Finn said as he paused at the top of the stairs. "For someone with such a flawless memory, it sure is flawed sometimes."
"I'll have you know that my memory is flawless," Rachel said as she followed him downstairs.
"Sure doesn't seem that way from here."
Rachel rolled her eyes and said, "I'm playing with you guys tonight."
"No," Finn said as he pulled out the poker table and began setting it up.
"I'm playing with you tonight."
"No."
"I'm playing."
"Do you even know how to play?"
"Nope."
"Then why the heck would we let you play with us?"
"Because otherwise I'd have to stay down here and sing all night while you guys played."
Finn froze.
"It's a good thing the basement is soundproof."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Well," Rachel said as she shrugged and ran a finger along the half-assembled table. "I have been known to do many a thing to get my way." She smiled impishly. "And not all of them were nice."
Finn remained frozen for a long second as he thought over the choices. "Fine. You can play, but when you lose you have to go upstairs and watch TV or listen to music or read or anything but stay down here."
"Who says I'm going to lose?"
"It's your first time playing," he said as he resumed setting up the table. "You're going to lose."
"We'll see."
"Wait, do you even have cash?"
"Why would I need cash?"
"Because you play poker for cash, so it's kinda a useful thing to have."
"Finn."
"Yes, Rachel?"
"Can I borrow some money?"
"No, and you can't play if you have no money."
Rachel cleared her throat and began running a scale.
"Okay, okay. I'll let you borrow some money," he said as he finished setting up the table. "Which you'll have to pay me back somehow when you lose."
"Like I said before," she said as she leaned over the table. "We'll see."
A few minutes later the rest of the guys began trickling into the basement through the back entrance of the house and after a bit of banter they took their seats at the table with Puck giving Rachel an evil glare as she slid into the seat next to him.
"Who invited the chick?"
"I invited myself."
Puck made a big show of turning towards Finn. "Dude, why is she here?"
"I'm playing with you guys," she said before Finn could respond.
"Fuck that," Puck said. "This is guy's night. There's no way you're playing."
Rachel looked over at Finn, cleared her throat, and hummed a few notes.
Finn widened his eyes then said, "She's playing with us because she is."
"No, fuck that."
"Man," Mike said from Rachel's other side. "Just leave it alone. It won't kill us if she plays once."
"Dude, why are you taking her side?"
"Because it's nice to have a girl at the table," Sam said.
"You're with them too aren't you Artie?"
Artie shrugged and said, "Yea, I am."
"Fuck." He turned toward Rachel and pointed at her. "You better not fuck up this night."
Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'll try not to mess things up for you guys."
"I'm sure she'll do just fine," Mike said. "Plus, it's not like she'll be playing for that long."
"Yes, that's right," Rachel said. "I won't do anything to— Wait. What did you mean by that?"
"Well, you are in the company of an expert poker player," Mike said as he nodded at Finn.
"Expert poker player?" Rachel asked as she looked over at Finn.
"Mike's just exaggerating," Finn said as he rubbed his face. "I'm not that good."
"Come on dude, you're great at poker," Mike said as he passed out the chips. "That's why you always took the entire football team's money, mine included. Plus, I know you win tons of money online. It's how you can afford this exquisite poker table and these casino weighted chips."
Finn groaned.
"You know it's true," Mike said before turning to Rachel. "This guy barely passed Calc 100, but he can calculate pot odds in his sleep. It's like he's a poker savant."
"Pot odds?"
"Uh," Mike said as he struggled to find a way to explain the term. "Basically it's a way for a player to figure out if it's worth it to call a raise."
Rachel stared blankly at Mike.
"Whatever," Finn said as he rubbed his face. "Can we just play?"
A chorus of agreements came from the rest of the guys and Finn fanned out the deck of cards on the table.
"As usual, high card is dealer, boys."
"Wait," Rachel said. "What's a high card?"
Puck groaned. "Tell me you know how to play."
"Nope," Rachel said as she shook her head. "Finn is supposed to teach me."
"I knew you'd fuck things up tonight."
Beginner's luck. There was no other explanation to it. Finn had seen it before and he was sure he'd see it again because, for some reason, rookie card players always did well their first time at the table. There was something about the randomness of rookie players which always gave more experienced players fits. They did things that no one else would do which was why pros copied some of the things amateurs did, but even then some things just weren't done. This was why he was staring at Rachel sitting across from him and they were the only two remaining players at the table.
Things started out like Finn had imagined they would. Rachel had no idea what a good hand was, played recklessly, and even won a few hands, but she eventually lost most of her chips. However, she quickly got the hang of it and slowly began to win her chips back. In fact, she had even knocked Puck out of the game, much to her amusement and glee and his anger. He took care of the other three and after a bit of banter the rest of the guys headed home, leaving him with a pretty big chip lead on her but she won a few big hands and their chip counts were about even now.
"Call," Rachel said.
"You sure you want to do that?"
Rachel smiled, and slid a stack of chips forward.
Finn shrugged and flipped over his cards causing Rachel to groan after she looked at them.
"I swore you were bluffing!"
Finn shrugged again he raked in the pot and began sorting.
Rachel sighed then leaned back and yawned, forcing Finn's eyes to quickly skim up her arched chest. His eyes shot back down to his chips as she quickly righted herself and even though she gave him a sly grin, he had no idea if she had caught him looking or not.
"You know, I think we've been trading the same chips back and forth for the past hour."
"Hour?" Finn said. "More like three hours."
"What?" Rachel said as she pulled out her phone. "Oh my god, how is it already 2 AM?"
"Well, you see, the Earth rotates around its axis—"
"Shut up," she said as she shuffled the cards.
"You did ask."
Rachel rolled her eyes and dealt two cards to each of them. Since the dealer always acted first in heads up play, Finn watched carefully as Rachel bent over and peaked at her cards before she called the big blind. As it had happened all night, he was no longer surprised at Rachel's excellent poker face which really amazed him since he was always pretty good at reading people, but he couldn't find Rachel's tell.
After looking at his cards, he checked and Rachel burned a card before dealing the flop which didn't help him at all. "Check."
"Check," she said then burned a card and dealt the turn. "Finn?"
He looked down at the new card then said, "Yea?"
"How much of your dad's funeral do you remember?"
"Uh, not much. Bits and pieces, here and there." He grabbed a small stack of chips and pushed them forward. "$100"
Rachel glanced at the new card again before she said, "Fold."
"Why do you wanna know?" he said as he dragged over his pot.
"Just curious."
It was Finn's turn to yawn as he waited while Rachel shuffled the deck and dealt the cards.
"So what do you remember about it?" She peaked at her cards. "Raise."
"Call," Finn said after he looked at his cards thought about it for a sec. "Uh, I remember the loud gunshots from the M1's and that sad bugle. The rest, I don't really remember."
A new card was turned over.
"Raise." A slightly bigger stack of chips was slid forward and Rachel quickly called which caused Finn to raise his eyebrows. "That good of a hand?"
She shrugged, flipped over the final card, and gave him a second sly smile that he couldn't figure out.
"So, why do you want to know?"
Rachel fidgeted a bit then looked down and said, "No reason."
Finn furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not so much due to her curiosity into his dad's funeral, but because of the fact that she was being shy and meek about the reason which was something he never expected her to be.
"Well, I guess I have to raise again," Finn said with a smile.
Rachel grinned back. "Then I guess I have to call you."
They flipped their cards over and Finn groaned as he realized he just lost a pretty big pot.
"You know you haven't won yet right?" Finn said as he listened to her cackling as she raked in her winnings.
"Every little bit counts. Plus, you started out with many more chips than me so I like to think of it as good indicator of progress on my way to beating Mr. Poker Expert here."
Finn rolled his eyes.
"Besides, to hear Mike tell it, you've got plenty of money to spare so what's $120 to you?"
He rolled his eyes again. "The money isn't why we play. It just gives us some time to shoot the shit and catch up during the summer."
"So how much money do you make from poker?"
"That's none of your business. Call."
"Hmm," Rachel said. "Must be a lot if you won't give me a straight answer. Check."
"Check. Still not telling."
"Fine. Be that way. Check."
"Raise."
Rachel glanced at her cards then the community cards. "Raise."
Finn's eyebrows followed suit. "Look at you." He rubbed his chin. "You've got a pair. No, you've got two pair. Otherwise, you wouldn't have just re-raised me."
Rachel smiled and shrugged.
"Well, just to let you know, I have trips which beats two pair."
"Yes, I do remember you mentioning what beats what at the beginning of this night. I also remember you saying that you have the option to call, raise, or fold."
Finn considered his options. He was sure she picked up her two pair on the flop and they were the top two pair since he picked up his set of the lowest valued card. The turn was worthless to the both of them which meant she only had one card to get a winning hand and there was little chance of that since there were only four cards that could help her. This meant her chances of winning were sitting in the single digits. The low single digits. Considering their chip stacks, he knew that he was a little behind her but that didn't really matter since they were about even and came to a decision.
"All in."
"Call."
"You really don't want to do that."
"I believe you're bluffing."
"I'm not. I really have a set and you have about a 5% chance of winning this hand if you call. So I'm giving you a chance to back out."
"I don't need that chance since I'm going to beat you. And if I am see things correctly, I have slightly more chips than you which means if I win this hand, I will have won and beaten the poker expert."
The final card was flipped over and Finn was stunned to see that it paired up the highest card from the flop and from Rachel's grin while she was turning over her cards, she saw it too.
"So this means I win right?"
"Yes," Finn said as he stood up and stretched. "This means you win."
"Ha! I beat Mr. Poker Expert!"
"You know that it's not much of an accomplishment to beat someone like that right?"
Rachel stood up and followed Finn in stretching. "It's still an accomplishment though."
"An accomplishment based on luck."
"Luck is involved with almost everything, so it still counts." She started walking towards the stars. "And while I would love to continue rubbing my victory in your face, it is well past 2AM and I would like some sleep."
"Some victory," Finn mumbled.
Rachel stopped on the second step and spun around. "Excuse me?"
"Hmm?" Finn said as he walked up to the bottom of the steps, bringing him face to face with her. "I didn't say anything."
"I'll have you know my hearing is perfect."
"Like your memory?"
"Like my memory. So I heard it when you said that."
"I didn't say anything."
"You can lie all you want," Rachel said then began poking Finn in the chest, emphasizing each word of her next sentence. "But I know you said something. Something that sounded like, 'Some victory.'"
"Yes, yes it did sound like that."
"It's still a victory over you," she said as she kept poking him.
"And I beat you at pool."
"What?" She looked down as he grabbed her wrist to stop the poking. "Are we keeping score now?"
"I don't know." He rolled his eyes as she tried to keep poking him. "Are we?"
"If you want—"
He gave her wrist a tug and she fell forward, catching herself just before she face-planted herself into his chest by planting her hands onto his chest. They were nose to nose for a moment until she surprised him again by closing the gap and meeting his lips with hers. He stood frozen as his brain tried to catch up with what was happening in front of and to him and when it did he put his hands on her hips and began kissing her back.
They kept going until she froze in his arms and pulled back with a look of shock on her face. It looked like she was about to say something when she opened her mouth but quickly closed it, turned around, and ran up the stairs, slamming the door closed behind her.
Finn stood there, stunned, at the bottom of the stairs for a few seconds.
"Well shit."
A/N 2: So that happened.
Also, note to self: Never ever write a scene between two little kids ever again.