AN: I know it's been forever. I'm so sorry about that.
It was surprisingly warm for March in The City, and Rachel decided that it would be a good day for a jog. After the Valentine's dinner and sickness debacle, Finn had taken it upon himself to always text her first thing in the morning to check in on her. She didn't know what they were doing. At some point the lines had become blurred. She thought that they might actually be friends. They laughed and joked like friends. They held hands in public, and kissed each other on the cheek. Even when they watched movies at one of their apartments, she ended up resting her head on his shoulder… she took a deep breath through her nose letting it out of her mouth as she picked up her pace.
She hadn't been on a good run since winter started, and she needed to clear her head. Rachel honestly had no idea what she was doing with Finn. She liked him. She liked him a lot, and she always kind of had, but how was she supposed to reconcile these new feelings with the old ones? She had kept the biggest secret of her life all because of him… for him… for her… for someone. For some reason. She hadn't known! She didn't do it on purpose—she shook her head turning up the volume of the mindless rock she was jogging to.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Step. Step. Thigh to knee to calf extend your foot. Pump arm. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. It still felt like her heart was beating too quickly. It was too early for leaves, but some of the hardier trees were already starting to bud. She felt her phone buzz from its place strapped around her arm, and heard the telltale dinging in her headphones. She loved jogging with her iPhone. She had one guess who it was.
She sprinted the final hundred or so yards out to the main street taking her pulse and deciding that she needed to keep up jogging. For the quick run, her heartbeat was too fast for her liking. She slipped her phone out of the jogging sleeve before starting the walk back to her building as her cool-down. Her instincts had been right. It was Finn. Hey, Rach, I know that you have that symposium show thing coming up soon, but if you want… well it is St. Pat's. Do you want to come out to the bar tonight? Green beer and whiskey? ;)
She walked into her favorite little café and got a Vitamin Water wiping the sweat off of her brow with her thin jogging gloves. She kept staring at his text. He'd been listening to her when she complained about the theater symposium coming up just before spring break… that did something funny to her heart. So did the idea of drinking whiskey with Finn again. She'd been on birth control steadily since that time but… she didn't know if she was willing to risk it. Then again she was a grown woman. She could resist her own impulses. As she started the walk-up to her apartment she texted back the appropriate: Everyone needs a break. Pick me up around 8? Where are we drinking?
She pushed open the door to the apartment with her foot after she'd unlocked it calling for her roommate, "Santana! I have plans tonight. You don't have to worry about my 'poor lonely ass drinking myself into oblivion and dying of alcohol poisoning alone'." She said quoting what the Latina had said about her the other night before they went to bed.
There was merely a grunt from Santana's bedroom that Rachel thought meant, "Fuck you, you woke me up." With Santana it usually did. She checked her phone again not recognizing the place they were going but smiling nonetheless at Finn's willing response. She stuck her phone back on the charger before going to take a shower.
:.:.:.:
He honestly hadn't expected her to say yes so quickly. He'd known Rachel for nearly four years, and she was so not a party girl. Besides that first party they'd met at he hadn't seen her at any others. She preferred to stay in for some quality time with her recorded reality TV. Still, he was really happy that he convinced her to come out. Rachel needed to seriously relax before she ended up in the hospital for being too stressed. The double major really seemed to take its toll on her, and she would never settle for anything less than perfection.
Finn really liked Rachel, and his mom really liked Rachel, and Burt really liked Rachel… everyone liked Rachel, and he just didn't want to jinx it by pushing her too hard. Sure, this entire thing was a scam, but maybe… he had the faintest hope that something was growing between them again. He was still clinging to that tiny little girl who had gotten drunk and rocked his world four years ago. And sure he was kind of a dick, and sure he still kind of is, but she liked that about him. The cockiness just seemed to make her flirt back.
They just worked together, and he needed a way to convince her that they should stay together even after they didn't have to. Hopefully a relaxing night out would help aide his cause. He waffled a little on what to wear before deciding that his green sweater would suffice for not getting pinched, and didn't look too Kurt-ish. Not that he had anything against the dude just… Finn wasn't a fashion plate and he never wanted to be. The drive to Rachel's wasn't too bad for 8 PM in the city, and he made it in pretty decent time before tackling the walk-up. He knocked on her apartment door and was met by one very surly looking Santana, "She told me she had plans, and I finally thought she was getting over your frat boy ass."
"Nice to see you too, Santana," he smiled at her wiping his palms against his jeans a little nervously, "Mind if I come in?" She moved to the side of the door motioning with a swaying hand for him to enter. It looked like Santana had started her party early. "She doesn't need you, gigantor. You hurt her before, and you'll hurt her again. She doesn't need you or this bullshit arrangement from her dads."
He was about to respond with something witty. Well, okay, it probably wouldn't have come out witty, but the plan forming in his head had been pretty good, when Rachel's sharp tone cut in, "Santana!" His gaze turned to find her looking—holy fucking sweet, dirty, sexy hell. He did his best to keep his jaw from dropping. She was wearing this—this tiny little… she looked damn good. Her lips were all glossy and her hair was back in this messy bun. Her t-shirt was a new kind of tiny and pushed her breasts together in just the right way… and those legs in that tiny little mini-skirt… god he was done for.
"Rachel," his voice squeaked. Damn it his voice squeaked! She giggled at him before shooting Santana a look that could melt glass before grabbing her sparkly clutch off of the counter and putting her arm in his.
"Come on, Finn, let's go have a good time." Sure he was used to her being confident. She was Rachel fucking Berry. She might be a little weird and a little intense, but she was nothing if not forward and determined, but even he wasn't used to this side of Rachel. Determined to have fun. It was always, like, studying or something. Never drinking. She was wearing these tiny little firecracker-red heels, and he was worried about her breaking her ankle on the steps so he just slid his arm around her waist. She didn't protest.
He tried to speak again, "You look—ah—wow," he decided. She did that cute little thing where she giggled and ducked her head a little, and he chanced pressing a kiss to her temple. "Thanks for coming out tonight, Rach, I figure just a few drinks… you've just really seemed like you need to relax lately. You can't run yourself into the ground, it isn't healthy."
He didn't know what he'd done wrong but her body immediately tensed against his, and she was quickly pulling herself away from his warm embrace.
:.:.:.:
She's tired. She's so tired. She feels cold and shaky and achy, and she just wants to curl up in a little ball with some warm tea and about a thousand Advil. Rachel's just been pushing really hard to get another lead role, and now that she's gotten it, she's been pushing hard to keep it. Because maybe, maybe her fathers will come see her lead roles one of these days, and if they do come, then they need to see her at her best.
Dance rehearsals are killing her more than usual, and the musical that they're practicing has choreography based on complicated ballet that she's never studied before, and that her body isn't adjusting to. The dance coach wants her to lose at least another 10 pounds to be able to do the lifts properly, and no matter what she's tried the weight just won't come off.
It feels like she pukes up almost everything that she tries to get down and still nothing is helping her get any closer to that goal. She can feel the tears spring to her eyes. God damn it! She hasn't been able to control her crying lately, and she's cursing her body for fucking up so much lately. Can't she do anything right? She needs to be a star, and all of this training should be making her stronger not a sniveling baby. Rachel drags herself to the bathroom to grab some ibuprofen before crawling into bed.
And that's the last normal night.
:.:.:.:
It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault because he didn't know because she'd never told him because she was a horrible, selfish person. She took a few deep breaths before slowly grabbing his hand again. He had the courtesy to not ask her what was wrong. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know what had set her off. It was her fault for keeping this secret from him. Still, she didn't want to ruin tonight so she put on her best fake smile before turning to him with fake brightness, "I'm sorry, Finn, I was just thinking about how I forgot to turn the curling iron off, but Santana should check it… it'll be fine." She didn't think she'd ever told a worse lie in her life, and Finn didn't seem to believe her either, but he still didn't say anything. It seemed like he was finally learning about Rachel and her secrets.
The drive to the bar was pretty short, and she asked idly if they would be meeting anyone else for their evening of debauchery. Finn looked at her for a moment before grinning at her, "We don't need anyone else to have a good time, Rach," she'd let 'Rach' slip in a few weeks ago when she'd just gotten tired of correcting him. It sounded good on his lips. "Besides, in this place it's like everyone is family. Especially on St. Pat's." He parked his car a few blocks away, and held her hand again as they walked up to the bar which already seemed to be thrumming with energy.
He led her to one of the high-topped wooden tables before making his way to the bar. The bartender high fived Finn before producing two shot glasses filled with light amber liquid that Finn quickly brought back to the table. "On the house, I know Johnny from way back… shot of Jameson's?" He handed her the chilled shot glass, and she quickly downed it with him letting a hiss of breath out between her lips. It burned and numbed down her throat before settling in a warm ball in her stomach. She smiled at Finn feeling a little breathless. "I also took the liberty of ordering you an Irish coffee because it's Irish and you like coffee… is that okay?"
"Oh I love Irish coffees!" she cheered clapping her hands a little for show. She could feel the slow tendrils of the alcohol working on her nerves already and melting away her stress and worry until she was flushed and smiling.
Two more shots, two coffees, and a green beer later, and Rachel was feeling particularly less stressed. She was also experiencing a lack of coordination, fine motor skills, and impulse control.
This was the precise reason that as Finn got her back to her apartment and slowly lead her to her bedroom so that she didn't fall over somewhere on the way, she kissed him. He was leaning in to press his lips to her cheek like he always did, and she just tilted her face so that his lips brushed hers.
They didn't have sex. He actually barely kissed her back. "Finny… c'mere, I want you…" she started tugging at his pants trying to recreate that magic moment of years ago, "I wanna have sex…" she slurred at him.
He pushed her away gently as he could, "You're drunk, Rach… we can't do it like this… not again. You'll hate me again in the morning anyway." She just sat on her bed as he pulled away from her. "Rachel… if you remember this in the morning… we'll talk. I want to be with you. To actually be with you, and if you want that too, we can work something out." And then he left her. Drunk and lonely and confused. Did she want him? That was a stupid question. Of course she wanted him. She'd always wanted him, but there was something that meant she couldn't have him… something… her baby. Their baby. The dead baby… she wanted him. She had to tell him. He had to know the truth before she could have him.
AN: My promises to update more quickly never work. I will finish this story, but it will just take time. Thank you for staying with me if you have. I promise there's some good drama coming soon :).