Hi everyone! Thank you so much for all of the positive feedback and reviews for this story! I'm really enjoying writing it and I'm really glad you all like it. As for the confusion in the story line, I promise, that will all be cleared up in the end! This chapter should help answer some questions, but I don't want to give everything away just yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of the story, and thanks again!
"There's no way you actually did that."
"No, I'm being honest." Rachel leans back against the fake red leather that covers the booth, snickering to herself as Finn talks. "That time we won the basketball championship senior year, Puck and I ran outside in the snow naked to celebrate."
She giggles like she's never giggled before, wiping tears from her eyes and trying not to smudge her makeup in the process.
She's drunk. And not just tipsy, maybe-I-can-drive drunk. Rachel's so drunk that she nearly falls out of the booth when she laughs.
"You're silly," she tells him, words slurring together. Finn starts to laugh and she laughs along with him, uncrossing her legs beneath the booth.
She wonders just how drunk she really is. She already knows that she's been known to do stupid things while she's drunk – as Kurt or any of her friends from college would attest to.
Maybe she only does stupid things when Finn's a concern of the matter.
She watches him as he looks at her, laughing as she giggles herself.
"Why are you staring at me?" She asks, able to sit up straight for a moment and look at him. His eyes meet hers and she doesn't flinch. Sober Rachel would be ready to duck and cover; feeling her face turn red the moment he actually looked at her. Now, she just looks at him and bites back a laugh.
He smiles and she cocks her head to the side. "You're just… really drunk," he tells her. Rachel reaches across the table and grabs her wine glass (which she's stuck a straw in at some point during their night), aiming the straw into her mouth and failing a few times before finally taking a sip.
She giggles and looks at Finn, tipping her head to the side. "Well, you better take me home then," she says, the inflection in her voice flipping up. Her free hand begins to play with her ponytail that's been thrown over her shoulder.
She's too drunk to understand the implication that came along with what she just said.
:.:.:
Rachel hears Finn say something about how they're going to stop for dessert on the way back to her apartment, which she doesn't oppose. He's the one that's driving, anyway. Rachel's far too drunk to form a complete, coherent sentence, let alone drive.
Besides, it's part of what turns their night into the night that she knows Finn wants it to be, with him driving and everything. He had driven her to the restaurant, so it only made sense that he drove them back to her apartment.
However, now that she's drunk, they're actually able to have a conversation in the car while they're waiting to get from point A to point B.
Finn carefully ushers her out to the car, but she decides to take charge of the situation and loosens the grip he has around her arm, causing her to try to bolt to her car. It doesn't matter either way. Finn has the keys and she's too drunk to drive.
Still, it's her car. She should at least have permission to run to her own car.
"How the hell do you run in those?" Finn asks her, approaching her from behind after a few moments of Rachel waiting for him to unlock the doors.
She shrugs and giggles, playing with her ponytail again.
"I don't know," she tells him, laughing as he unlocks her door. She begins to climb into the car, still being mindful of how the skirt of her dress falls in her lap when she sits down. "I'm short. I've been wearing heels for a while now."
She watches him as he laughs, actually seeming to enjoy whatever she has to say.
She misses it, even in her drunken stupor. This is the Finn she likes to spend time with; the Finn she misses from high school. He's the same Finn who went to see her in the musical without her having to ask, the Finn who told her she looked pretty even on the days she felt at her worst.
Sometimes, all Rachel wishes for is for the Finn she met on prom night never to come back into her life. She doesn't want it and she doesn't need it, and she doesn't think that he does, either.
She watches him as he slides into the car and sticks the key into the ignition, turning it and starting the heat and radio again. The music begins to filter through the speakers and Rachel recognizes the song after a while, a toothy smile spreading across her face the longer it plays.
"Turn it up!" She doesn't bother to fasten her seatbelt and instead squirms around in her chair, listening to the song.
It's not a very fast song, and it's not one with an actual danceable beat.
Finn looks at her and smiles. "You like The Lumineers?" She's drunk. It's not like she's going to give him that accurate of an answer.
"I like this song," she says, finally strapping her seatbelt across her chest. He laughs and watches as she bounces up and down in her seat to the kick drum beat of the song, enjoying herself with him more than ever. He puts the car in reverse and begins to back out of their parking spot, Rachel still in her own world as the song plays.
"Finn," she coos, turning to look at him quickly. She nearly hits him in the face with her ponytail as she turns her head, but he doesn't seem to mind. He spits out a laugh and she giggles. "Sing along. I know you know the words."
He laughs and looks at her, lip-synching along to the radio.
"You're not even singing!"
"I won't sing until you start singing." She figures it's a fair trade. She wants to hear him sing, anyway. For all she knows, Finn has a beautiful singing voice. She just hasn't heard it yet. "Come on," she says, nudging him as he turns a corner, continuing to egg him on.
She laughs and sings the chorus – more so shouts it, but she doesn't care.
I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart,
I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweet-
"Sing the song with me!" She says, now practically yelling at him. She watches as Finn laughs, looking back at her again.
"Fine," he says, laughing. "Just… wait for the chorus to end."
She giggles and looks at him, watching him as he starts to sing.
I don't think you're right for him, look at what of might have been,
If we took a bus to Chinatown, I'd be standing on Canal,
And Valerie-
"No!" She says, shouting. "It's Bowery."
Finn looks at her, confused.
She looks at him like he's just made the biggest mistake in the entire world. "Canal and Bowery, they're two streets in New York."
He smiles, rolling his eyes. "Oh."
They stop talking just in time for the chorus to kick in again. This time, both of them continue to sing – and it isn't melodic like Rachel's used to, but she doesn't care.
I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart,
I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart.
Rachel looks at Finn with a smile, tipping her head up in the air like she's chanting something.
Love, we need it now,
Let's hope for some.
Finn looks down at her and laughs, watching as she turns the dashboard into an air drum kit, rapping her fingers against it like she's the next Sheila E, or some other famous drummer.
He decides to join in with her on the second verse of the bridge.
'Cause oh, we're bleeding out,
I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart,
Rachel points to Finn and looks like she's pretending to be a singer on American Idol, causing Finn to start laughing. The song finishes playing on the radio and the DJ changes it to some other folksy-sounding song, Rachel reclining back in her chair and laughing hysterically.
She catches her breath and watches as Finn looks at her, laughing.
"I've never heard you sing like that before," he tells her, causing her to laugh even more. "Screaming and shouting and everything."
Rachel giggles and looks down into her lap, playing with the hem of her dress. "Well, I'm drunk, remember?"
They both laugh and she looks out the window, watching the lights pass by as they continue on their way to wherever it is Finn's taking them for dessert.
"Have you ever been to New York before, Rachel?"
She looks at him and shakes her head, gaze dropping back down to her lap. "No," she says, almost as if she's ashamed of the fact. "I really want to go one day, though."
She speaks as though it's a long lost dream; one she'll never get back no matter how hard she tries.
No matter what happens now, however, her mind still carries the thought of New York in the back of it. She's twenty five and has a successful job (well, quasi-successful). She shouldn't be hoping to fly out to New York one day with twenty dollars in her pocket and a dream. That ship should have sailed a long, long time ago.
Finn laughs and turns into a parking lot. She looks out the window, wondering where they are. She doesn't get out much. She's a music teacher to elementary schoolers, not a wild child. Rachel's turned into somewhat into a recluse. She goes home after work and watches The Bachelor while Berkley sits on her lap and she goes through half a jar of guacamole.
She never, ever does stuff like this.
"Well, if you're going to go, why don't you just go?" He asks, looking down at her with a smile. Finn keeps the car running as they sit in the parking lot, Rachel spending more of her time eyeing up the Baskin-Robbins than listening to him. "I mean, we're twenty five, Rachel. In like, five years, you're probably…"
His voice trails off and she turns to face him; the absence of his voice drawing her attention. She giggles and unbuckles her seatbelt, leaning over so that she's closer to his lap.
"What's that?" She asks, giggling sweetly. She watches as Finn sighs and looks down at her, hands clasped together and resting against her chest.
"Well, you know. You're like, gonna be a mom and stuff. You're not going to have time to go out to New York and do what you want to do out there."
She flubs her lips and starts to laugh, rolling her eyes. "Please," she says, her words beginning to slur again. "I'm twenty five and single. I'm not going to be a wife and have kids any time soon." She sighs, sitting back up and leaning back in her chair. She begins to play with the hem of her dress again, pulling it further up her legs and watching as Finn's eyes followed, not caring as much as she once would have.
Finn sighs and looks at her, smiling sympathetically. "Come on, Rachel. You're going to be married in five years." He pauses and wipes his face, shaking his head slightly. "You've got the world ahead of you, Rachel. Like, in five years, you're going to be married with a baby and all happy and everything.
"No," she says, frowning slightly. Rachel begins to giggle to herself, rolling her eyes. She starts to chew on her bottom lip, her alcohol intake once again affecting how freely she speaks to him. "Did you know that I haven't been on a real date in three years?" She watches as Finn raises her eyebrows at her, causing her to nod her head quickly. "Yeah. I haven't slept with anyone in about two years."
He looks at her and she turns her head over to look at him. She normally wouldn't be talking about how love life (or lack thereof) to anyone, especially Finn. She doesn't even tell Kurt about the people she dates and the people she sleeps with.
Apparently, the four and a half glasses of red wine she's had tonight are telling her to do otherwise.
"Rachel, you don't have to do this-"
"I broke up with Jesse before prom," she says, words spilling out of her mouth as she continues to prattle on about herself. "He called me a prude and said that he didn't want to waste his time dating someone in high school who wasn't willing to sleep with him." She looks away from Finn and turns her head to look out the window, her car still running in the parking lot. "That was why I went to prom alone junior year."
She starts to tap her fingers against the glass of the window, flubbing her lips slightly.
Finn turns the car off and looks at her, sighing. "Come on," he tells her, touching her arm lightly. Rachel turns to look at him, eyes heavy-lidded and lips pouted due to her drunkenness. "I'll buy you an ice cream cone."
She sighs and opens the door, stumbling out of the car before Finn walks up to her and grabs her by the hand. She looks up at him, wondering why he's taken her by the hand and holds her so tightly. She's not dating him. He shouldn't want to grab her by the hand and walk around with her like she's some kind of trophy for him to show off. He hasn't earned her and he hasn't done anything to make her want him.
But the longer she spends with him, even with the booze in her blood, the more she wonders about what it would feel like if she could have that kind of relationship with him.
Finn pushes the door to open to the Baskin-Robbins, dragging Rachel in behind him. She stumbles around in her shoes for a moment, her own hand still clasped in Finn's.
They stand in front of the buckets of ice cream, Rachel looking down at them with wide, bright eyes. She hasn't exactly been to Baskin-Robbins too many times. No one's really bothered to ask her on a date in a while.
"Do you want a cone or a bowl?" He asks, still holding on to her hand. She stares up at him and blinks once before looking down at their conjoined hands.
He drops his hand quickly and wipes his hands off on his pants.
She doesn't say anything.
He ultimately decides on getting her bowl, because she knows that if she gets a cone she won't be able to handle balancing all of the scoops of ice cream on the cone.
Rachel leans against him and sighs, looking down at the ice cream again with wide eyes. "You pick out the flavor," she says, poking in his sides. She feels his stomach against her fingers and laughs, resting her chin against his chest.
He shrugs, pushing her off of him slightly. "There's fifty-two flavors, Rachel. You pick one."
"Umm... mint chocolate chip."
Finn looks at her and smiles, walking up to the cashier and placing her order.
She wants to follow behind him, but before she really gets a chance to walk up to him, the bells hanging over the door begin to ring and a familiar figure walks into the store.
Kurt.
At first, her liquored brain doesn't make the connection that she's standing in an ice cream parlor with Finn Hudson, hair curled and wearing a tight, black dress that makes her boobs look really nice.
It almost looks like they're on a date.
But she watches him walk up to her, eyebrows raised and head cocked to the side.
"Rachel?" He asks, walking up to her. She swallows thickly and looks at him before attempting to run up to him and catch him in an embrace.
"Oh, Kurt!" She says, nearly crashing into him upon touching him. "I'm so glad you're here," she gurgles, laughing as she looks up at him. "I'm here with Finn, and he took me out to dinner – well, as an apology, because he accidentally saw me naked-"
"He saw you naked?"
"Yeah," she continues, like it's no big deal or that Kurt won't think it's weird when it's taken out of context. "But we went out to dinner and we sang my car, and now he's taking me here for dessert and then we're going back home." Her words all slur together like one big sentence that seems like it's never going to end.
She watches as Kurt looks down at her, shock painted on his face. "Rachel," he says, grabbing her by the arms. He watches her as she looks up at him, smiling dumbly. "Are… are you drunk?"
She nods her head quickly and bursts into a fit of giggles. "Yup," she says, playing with her bangs as they fall in her eyes. "But s'fine, because Finn said that he's going to take me home and make sure I'm alright." She starts to laugh and a hiccup escapes her, causing her to bring a hand up to her face to cover her mouth.
"Rachel," Kurt starts, holding onto her tightly. "You need to go home. Without Finn. Do you understand?"
She shakes her head, pouting at him. "No, Kurt. I have to go home with Finn. We're living together." He rolls his eyes and she notices, scoffing. "Not like that," she says, swatting at his chest. "You're gross, Kurt." She starts to laugh again and notices as Finn turns over his shoulder to look at her. "I'm helping him until he's better again." She starts to laugh and leans into Kurt again, smiling as she looks up at him. "I'm like a nurse, Kurt."
Kurt looks down at her, refusing to release the grip he has on her. "Rachel, you need to go home. Have Finn take you home and go to bed, alright? You're drunk and you need to go to bed."
She sputters out a laugh and looks at him, guffawing slightly. "Just buy your ice cream and leave," she tells him, watching as Finn walks up to her. She smiles brightly as he presents her with the dish of ice cream she's wanted. She wraps her arms around him, surprising him and causing him to jump slightly.
"Finn Hudson," Kurt says, his voice sounding bitter. Rachel's too concerned over squeezing all of the air out of Finn to pay attention to what Kurt's doing. "I haven't seen you in… well, since high school."
"Yeah," Finn says, looking down at Rachel. "It's great to see you too, um… Kurt."
Kurt crosses his arms over his chest and pops a hip out to one side, looking down at Rachel. "You're… you're staying with her?" He points down at Rachel as she continues to stumble around in her drunken mess, taking the occasional spoonful of ice cream from time to time.
"Yeah," Finn says, looking at Kurt. Rachel finally releases her grip around him and looks down at her feet, listening to Finn stammer as he goes on. "But, um, we're n-not a thing, or anything. I'm just-"
"He got shot in the leg," Rachel exclaims, gesticulating with her plastic spoon. "But it's not even that bad anymore. It's not like you're even on your crutches anymore, right Finn?"
Kurt looks down at Rachel, eyes wide.
"Well, just make sure she gets back to her house alright, okay? Or your house, or whatever you call it."
Rachel nods her head and smiles up at Kurt.
"Don't worry," she says, feeling Finn take her by the arm and lead her out the doorway. "We will."
:.:.:
She stumbles into her apartment, laughing hysterically – at what, she doesn't know. She can feel Finn behind her, guiding her through the narrow hallway into her living room. Rachel stops and turns around to face Finn, nearly collapsing into his chest.
She giggles and tips her head up to stare at him, eyes glazed over and half open.
"You know, I'm glad I was honest with you tonight," she tells him, resting her hands against his chest. Drunk Rachel should make an appearance more often. She's starting to feel more comfortable around him by the second. Maybe that's the key to being around Finn; alcohol. If she gets drunk every time they're together, maybe he won't cause her to go gray by the time she turns thirty.
Finn tips his head to the side and looks down at her, curious as to what she's talking about. "What?"
"You know, about Jesse and everything. You didn't need to hear that." She feels her face begin to get warmer and she looks up at him, able to see the freckles on the underside of his chin. She's sees him from this angle most of the time, anyway. She's almost positive that she's never seen Finn's face full-on before; she's that much shorter than she is.
He lets his hands grasp her by the waist and she smiles, not wanting his hands to move for the first time. They're so big and feel like they fit around her waist perfectly, making her feel like he could pick her up right off the floor without a problem.
"It's fine," he says, laughing sweetly. She shakes her head and he smiles.
"No," she says. "I mean, I shouldn't have brought up high school and everything… it's almost been ten years, and we don't need to talk about all of that…"
"Stuff?"
She giggles. "Yeah. Stuff."
Rachel brings her hand up to the top of her head and pulls the elastic from her hair, causing it to fall down behind her back and shoulders in a mess of curls. She pops her foot up in the air and leans into him, causing him to start laughing.
Rachel starts to stand up on her toes and laughs slightly; able to smell the alcohol on her breath the closer she is to Finn. Her lips come close to his and she doesn't stop giggling, her hair falling in her eyes.
"Okay," Finn says, looking down at her with a red face. "We should probably get you to bed."
She backs away from him and smiles, his hands still not moving from her wait.
"Will you carry me, though?"
"What?"
"Carry me to my bedroom."
Her eyes fall shut and before she knows it her feet are off the ground; Rachel wrapping her arms around Finn's shoulders and letting her head fall against his chest.
Maybe he means more to her than she's willing to admit.