Late Thursday afternoon found Rachel in her room, having picked out something to wear for the dinner double date. She'd put a lot of time into working on her appearance for that evening, threading carefully between opposing considerations. Stunning but approachable. Sexy but friendly. Dressy but still somewhat casual. And, of course, well put together but (seemingly) effortless.

She surveyed the results happily. Hair in soft shiny curls, her neck lightly scented with a cologne Finn had openly appreciated before; multi-colored pastel sundress, well-contoured at her bust and ending just above her knees while standing and a couple of inches shorter when sitting; cream-colored medium-heeled sandals. Just right. She looked at the pictures of Finn next to her mirror and whispered "I love you." On impulse she added the star necklace he'd given her. She could use its reminder of the boy who always believed in her whether they were together or not.

She frowned, though, as the same thought resurfaced that had been bothering her since Monday morning. Why had Finn asked her to go bowling? Was this some part of his memories fighting through, reminding him of when he'd taken her bowling before, or was it just the natural thing for Finn at that stage to think of, now as it had been then? She sighed. There was no way to tell, and it was already driving her crazy. She certainly couldn't ask him, he'd just worry, so she had to stop thinking about it. But having their "second first date" be so similar to their original sort-of first date was hard to ignore. She'd hoped all evening that the similarity might help him remember something, especially when he'd been guiding her movements, but apparently it hadn't done anything.

And while it had led to a lovely evening, easily their best interactions so far, and Finn was clearly interested, the let's-pretend-we-just-met approach was taking its toll on her. It may have made Finn a lot more comfortable, which was certainly wonderful, but she had a hard time maintaining her side of it. Having to pull back from him had been physically painful. Still, if this was how she needed to be to help Finn, and hopefully get him back one way or another, it was worth it.

It's Finn. Of course he's worth it.

The two couples met at Breadstix and were quickly shown to their booth, with the girls sitting on the inside. Finn looked through the menu rapidly, realizing that the others were very familiar with this place; Mike had told him it was their usual hangout, but it had opened during the time Finn had forgotten so he didn't know it at all. However, it seldom took Finn all that long to find something he'd want to eat, and tonight was no different.

The waitress went around the table taking their orders, starting closest to her (despite Mike's best efforts to have her take Tina's order before his). Finn ordered the spaghetti and meatballs, which was a good basic choice, but he was surprised when he heard Rachel's order: vegan lasagna.

"You're a vegetarian?" Finn asked as the waitress left. He was shocked. He thought he'd been getting to know her, and at least starting to feel relaxed around her, but this came out of the blue. He was a total carnivore, make that omnivore like his mom always teased him about, or at least he thought he always was.

"Vegan, actually."

I don't know the difference but I'm pretty sure that's worse. Finn frowned. "Am I? I mean –"

"Did I get you to eat vegan when we were together?" Rachel completed for him, wincing at her words. "No, you'd probably starve to death. Between us we eat almost everything."

"Finn by himself eats almost everything," Mike commented. "I don't see anyone being able to change that even if they wanted to."

Finn joined in with the general laughter at that; it was true, and had been what he'd been thinking himself, but he was distracted by how unsettled he felt at this sudden revelation about Rachel. He'd always thought of vegetarians as being fussy and uptight, and he wouldn't have expected that of her. Food for him was simple: take, eat. Sure some people had to be careful, especially as they got older and had issues like Burt did, but never someone his own age, not that extreme. And he'd planned to spend the rest of his life with her?

Searching for a different topic, Finn took a closer look at Rachel, who sat right next to him in the booth, her leg almost up against his. Having her so close was affecting him, her scent making him a bit dizzy, like he was losing control a little. "That's a pretty necklace," Finn commented, looking at the star chain.

Rachel gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you." Her smiled turned a little impish, which was echoed across the table by Tina. Something about it, I guess. Like she knows I like it or something. He glanced across the table again. Like everyone knows I like it.

They talked aimlessly until the food arrived. Finn started in on his, which tasted fine. Not as good as his mom's, but hers was special.

"How's your food?" he asked Rachel, trying to be interested. Not that he could understand why someone would choose something like that instead of meat, but... whatever floats your boat, I guess.

"It's good," she said. "You can try some if you like." Rachel pushed her plate closer to Finn.

Finn looked nonplussed at the dish, but shrugged his shoulders and took a forkful of the tofu. Tastes like... styrofoam. In sauce. Not good. He saw Rachel looking intently at him, and forced a smile. "It's ah, fine. Not bad," he lied.

"Liar." She smiled, taking the edge from her offhand comment.

Finn frowned, frustrated. "Just trying to be nice."

"I know."

"Did I like it, um, before?"

"No. Not this specific dish."

"Well if you know I don't like it why offer it?" Finn was getting annoyed.

"I just wanted to know what you'd say. Besides, you might have changed."

"I don't think I'd've changed about that."

"I suppose not," Rachel admitted. "But you do want to find out about these things yourself."

"Do you have a problem that I eat meat?" Finn was getting exasperated. Trying to focus on now rather than before wasn't working.

"No." Rachel turned to smile at Finn, trying to lift the mood. "Really, I don't and I never have. I don't have a problem with other people eating meat, it's a personal choice. And you've usually been very polite about my veganism. That's how I could tell you were faking liking it."

"It tastes like styrofoam."

"Have you ever eaten styrofoam?" Mike put in, trying to lighten the tone.

Finn smiled. "Maybe when I was three. But that stuff tastes like I imagine styrofoam would."

Rachel laughed. "Is there anything you won't eat?"

"That," Finn declared, pointing at her plate. "Do you not eat meat at all?"

"I do make exceptions sometimes. I have an old weakness for pepperoni pizza. And I'll cook meat, and I'm quite sure that people's appreciation for that has been genuine."

Translation: she cooked meat for me and I liked it. Okay. But even the talk of 'cooking meat' was starting to put him off his food a bit, which was hard. It just made it sound like she thought it was disgusting. Still, she liked pepperoni so not completely disgusting. And she'd brought him those burgers when he'd been in hospital, she wouldn't have done that if she'd had a huge problem with it. She'd had salad, he remembered, then and when she'd been over for lunch; he hadn't realized it was more than just eating light. Now, knowing that it was a principle for her, he felt like he was being humored. Judged. Even without her saying anything against what he ate, just the fact that she completely rejected it for herself annoyed him.

"Don't you like bacon, Rachel? I remember you saying something like that a while ago," Tina put in.

"I like the smell of bacon. But that's different."

"You've never tried it? Eating it?" Finn asked.

"I'm Jewish, Finn."

At least I knew that. "So's Puck and he loves it."

"It's not hard to be more religiously observant than Noah Puckerman. But no, I haven't tried eating it, I just like the smell. I don't really like the texture of meat much anyway."

"But then when would you smell bacon? To know you liked it?"

Rachel looked very unsettled. "I just have. Could we talk about something else, please?"

"I'm sorry," Finn said, trying to stop thinking about it. "I just didn't expect this, that you were picky about food."

Rachel turned to Finn and gave him a tight smile. "Finn," she said, soft but intense, "I ordered something from the menu, prepared as the restaurant intended, and I'm eating it. The only person who's being picky about food here is you."

Mike and Tina both looked intently at their own plates, trying to pretend they weren't there.

"I guess," Finn said lamely. "It just... I don't know, it changes what I thought was true. My, um, 'mental image' or something like that." He stared at his own plate, not that interested in eating any more. And I was starting to trust myself with her – guess my subconscious isn't telling me anything useful now.

Rachel looked at Finn with concern, and touched his hand to get his attention. "It's not a big deal. You like to eat meat, I don't. All the more for you. And you're a lot bigger than I am so you need it."

"Sure," Finn said, trying to smile at her.

"And I'm sorry I offered you some of mine, I was just trying to be funny I suppose. Feel free to tell me how much better yours is."

Finn ate one of his meatballs, and the more familiar taste helped him relax a little. I guess she wasn't trying to change me, he thought, either now or then. It's just weird that she's so different and also weird that she just accepts me anyway. Unless that's an act.

All four of them resumed eating, and they tried to make light conversation, but any rapport they'd previously had was well and truly broken.

Once they'd finished their food, nobody really wanted to linger. Rachel excused herself to go to the washroom, Tina going along as well, and Mike flagged their waitress down to ask for the bill. Finn was still tense, though a bit distracted as the waitress, a young blond woman, was trying to catch his eye.

"She does make exceptions, you know," Mike told Finn. "And I'm pretty sure you didn't mind, the two of you had some in-joke about it back in January."

Finn let his eyes wander around the room, trying to get his mind off the subject.

The waitress returned with their bill for Mike, and gave another piece of paper to Finn with a flirty wink. He smiled back at her and opened it to find a name and phone number, then folded it back up.

"What are you doing?" Mike hissed, pulling the paper from Finn's hand.

"I'm being polite," Finn said with a frown. He made a grab for the paper but Mike moved it away.

"Newsflash, Finn: when you're on a date, paying attention to another girl and taking her phone number isn't remotely polite."

"It's not like Rachel sees it," Finn muttered. He just wanted to get out of there.

"Oh, so it's okay as long as she doesn't know? That's adult. And what is your problem tonight anyway?"

"I don't know," Finn shrugged. "Just finding stuff out. It's throwing me, I guess. She's a bit high maintenance, don't you think?"

"No, I don't," Mike threw back. "Like she said, her meal is straight off the menu. It's even cheap. And you should talk. We're not mind-readers, we don't know what you want and it keeps changing. Do you want people to let you remember things on your own, or do you want them to tell you things without you having to ask?" He waved the slip of paper in his hand, then threw it onto the table. "Do you want to continue to reconnect with your fiancée that you had such a good time with two days ago, or do you want to hook up with some empty-headed waitress? Pick one." His frown deepened. "And if it's the latter, please tell me why Tina and I are wasting our evening trying to help you out. I'm leaving in a bit over a week too, you know, and right now we could be having a good time by ourselves instead of trying to help you salvage your life." Mike looked like he wanted to say more, but bit it back and composed himself as he saw Tina and Rachel returning from the washroom. He leaned forward and gave Finn a last whisper as the girls approached. "Just think about what you're doing, Finn. Losing your memory does not give you license to be an ass. You weren't like this even three years ago."

Finn tried to smile at both Mike and Tina as they headed for the door, Mike diverting to pay the bill at the cash. He got up to join Rachel, standing close to her, trying to clear the quarrel from his head.

"Did you drop that, Finn?" Rachel asked, gesturing to the piece of paper on the table.

"No, it's nothing I want," Finn said, a little loudly, hoping both the waitress and his departing friend would hear him. He hadn't had any interest in the waitress, not the slightest, he had just been annoyed at how the date had gone sour and at Mike's accusation. And the waitress was completely out of line, she would have been able to tell that they'd been arguing and decided to make a play to interfere. He escorted Rachel out to the car in silence.

Driving Rachel back to her place, Finn hated that their evening was ending so early and so badly but didn't know what to do about it. He still couldn't shake his annoyance at how all these things he didn't know were getting in the way.

He saw a glint at her neck and reached out to move her hair away from where it had been covering her necklace. She flinched. "Sorry," he said in reflex. He glanced at the necklace again as he drove. She'd reacted to his noticing it at dinner, she'd acted as though there was something special about it. Something special about jewelry being worn by a girl I went out with for years, huh? Idiot. "Did I give that to you? When we were together, before?"

"Yes. Well, sort of. Um... it's complicated." But she gave him a smile. "Yes, it's from you." Her eyes flickered as she touched it. "So earlier, when I was thanking you, I was sort of thanking you for it, again. It just occurred to me at the time that I could mean that too."

It's complicated, huh? Can't be more complicated than what we have now. "I guess I had good taste," he commented, trying to steer his brain away from worrying about how much past hung over them.

"I hope you still do." Rachel acted like that was a light joke, but for Finn it still stung. He drove on in silence.

They pulled up in front of her house, but neither of them made any move to get out of the car, either Rachel to leave or Finn to escort her. After a moment she turned to him. "We need to work this out," she stated. "I don't know what's causing that mood of yours, but we can't leave it like this."

"I guess."

"You guess?" Clearly not the sort of response she was looking for. It had been pretty lame.

"Just – it's hard when you're keeping stuff from me," Finn tried to explain. "Like that you're vegan, I mean I thought I was getting to know you again and then I find out that, who keeps that sort of thing quiet? You tell me all that heavy stuff about us, right away, but you can't mention that you don't eat meat?"

"I guess it just never came up," Rachel tried to explain. "I had lunch with you and your family, didn't it get mentioned at some point?"

"Not to me." Finn exhaled. "I mean I know you went in for the salad, and you didn't have ice cream, but I didn't know why, guess I just figured you were watching your weight or something." And I wasn't really paying attention to her then.

"Well that's why. And we've never had any problems about it before. All the other things I told you, yes about us, those were things that had been problems and I didn't want to have them again." She bit her lip, upset but struggling to get herself back under control. "Anyway, now you know. And I wasn't hiding it, you should be able to understand there wouldn't be any point to that."

Finn listened, and told himself she was right, that it didn't matter and there was no way she would have been able to hide it. If she'd come over for dinner instead of lunch it would have been obvious. Still... "So what about the exceptions?"

"I like pepperoni pizza," she reiterated. "Especially the good pepperoni, like they used to have at the bowling alley."

"And bacon? You don't eat it and your family doesn't either, but you like the smell, what's with that? Mike said we have some joke about your diet, is that part of it?"

"No," Rachel stated flatly, reddening. "That's private."

"It's me, Rachel." He really didn't like the feeling that she was hiding things. Or that there was something he'd had with her that he could never have again.

"No." She was getting very upset. "You don't explain a joke, especially not one like that. It's private between me and the one person who understands it, that's assuming I ever get to talk to him again. You can't have it both ways, get me to act like this is all new, like you're not who you were, and then claim our past when it suits you."

Finn exhaled. "Okay, yeah, sorry. But the bacon thing, Tina knew about that -"

"But not why."

"Still -"

"Figure it out, Finn." Rachel practically spat this out. "When would I have smelled it? Who do I know and spend time with that eats it?"

Finn wasn't really in a thinking mood. "What? What's with the guessing games?"

"Just wanting you to use your brain, there's a lot more in it than you might think and it might feel more real if you figure it out instead of being told. Since you don't like to be told things, except when you do."

Finn didn't respond. He knew he was making her upset, and everything he said seemed to make it worse. But not answering didn't help either.

"Fine, do you want to know why I like the smell of bacon, Finn? It's because I associate it with having spent the night with you." Rachel exited the car in a rush and stormed up her front path.

Finn groaned. It would have to be something like that. He got out to follow her. "Rach, wait! I'm sorry."

She whirled to face him, in tears. "Please don't call me that."

"What, 'Rach'?" I just did it – is it wrong?

"Yes. I don't want you to call me that."

"Well if you don't like it, I guess... Rachel. Sorry. What's wrong with it?"

Rachel wiped her eyes, her face set. "When you remember, you'll know." She turned away again and continued to her house. "Goodnight, Finn."

Finn drove home in sullen silence, annoyed at how badly everything had gotten screwed up. How had he not known about Rachel's diet? He'd eaten with her, what, three times before. And why did it seem like such a big deal? She'd been sure it wasn't, but it just made her seem so different.

He was still frustrated when he got back home, and the slam to the door (it just kinda happened) attracted the attention of his mom and Burt, who were sitting in the living room.

"Did things not go so well, honey?" his mom asked solicitously. Finn frowned, leaning against the wall at the entrance to the room.

"Did you know that Rachel's vegan?" Finn's pointed question was met with silence. He groaned. "Of course you know," he said, mentally connecting the dots. "That's why there was soy milk in the fridge, when I came back from the hospital, for her when she came over."

"Rachel practically lived here while you were in that coma," Burt said, looking seriously at him. "The only places she could get to sleep were in the chair in your hospital room and in your bed here." He waved off Carole's attempted objection. "No, Carole, Finn needs to know. That girl's been through hell for him, hey she's still there, and he's worried about what she eats."

Finn felt like a heel. "It's just – I didn't know, and I felt blindsided," he tried to explain.

"You never had any issues about it before, honey," Carole said. "It's a little unusual around here, but she's not that hard to accommodate and she's always accommodated you."

Of course she has. Probably cooked the bacon herself the morning after. Shit. "It just snowballed."

"Well here's something else you should know," Burt said. "You do know she's been accepted at NYADA, that exclusive drama college that Kurt's also going to, right? They take 20 people into the musical theater program, from the entire country. The dream school for her." Burt paused until Finn nodded. "Well last week she called them up, asked them if she could defer her admission until next year."

"What?" For me?

"She can't. She'd have to reapply and go through the whole process again, rounds of auditions, competing against a whole new group of people straight from high school."

"No!" Finn sank down into a chair. He looked at Burt, stunned. "She can't throw that away. Not for me, I... I'm not worth it."

"Oh, she's going," Carole stated. "We managed to convince her that she couldn't do anything to help your recovery by staying here. But that was the only way it worked. Because there's something else you should know about Rachel, something I know about her because it's something we have in common." She looked pointedly at her son. "The fastest way to piss her off is to suggest, about anything, that you're not worth it."

Finn looked at the floor. "Well I sure don't feel worth much right now." He exhaled. "I know, I was an ass. Dinner turned into a minefield but I just couldn't stop asking questions that had no right answers." I should call her. Now, before I talk myself out of it. Finn pulled his phone out and called. It rang for what seemed like a small eternity, but was probably only a few times; then she answered, still sounding upset. "Hey, Rach..el, look like I said I'm really sorry... about all of tonight, how I reacted, everything," he said. "I don't want to be told things but I also do, I get that it's no-win."

"Are you free on Saturday? Please? I know that you're leaving in a week. Maybe we could go do something, with my family or whatever... Oh. Well I guess if that's important... okay, of course it's important. How about Sunday instead... great, Sunday, I'll figure something out and let you know. I really want to make this up to you. Please don't be upset, this was all my fault."

Later, in his room, Finn tried to figure out why he'd screwed things up so badly at dinner. He couldn't afford any more of that, she was leaving so soon, and he hated himself for how he'd hurt her. How did something that had been so great just two days before turn bad so quickly?

Maybe he'd trusted his subconscious, his instinct, too much; as soon as he'd reacted he'd simply gone with it. His subconscious was the only part of him that knew Rachel, or so he'd thought, so he didn't know how it got things so wrong. It certainly wanted her and knew how to be with her, at least physically, but it could apparently also be a bit of a jackass (at least a bit). Though he shouldn't blame his subconscious, he'd told himself to drop it a few times and still hadn't. Just being an idiot, I guess. But that doesn't help me know how to stop being one again. He groaned. This whole mess just got harder. And he really had to stop doing things that hurt her, he couldn't take the pain in her eyes and voice, and the guilt in his heart.

Yeah, she'd forgive him almost anything, because she'd been in love with him for years. But screwup-apology-screwup-apology didn't make for a good relationship, too much time with both of them feeling like crap. He'd had that with Quinn, when he hadn't just done what she'd said, and honestly it had sucked.

He knew he'd been abusing his advantage with Rachel, that he didn't have to put much effort into convincing her to spend time with him because he knew she was his for the taking. If he'd really been trying to, well, woo her, he'd've behaved better at dinner and not started acting like he was doing her a favor by spending time with her. He'd've gone after her now to convince her to take him back. He could tell on the phone that she'd been crying, but she'd still agreed to spend time with him on the weekend, without him needing to have a plan or offer anything except a lame apology. Hell, at dinner he'd been an ass and she'd still apologized to him at one point, tried to mend things after, and she'd been pretty accepting when he'd stuck his foot in it on the phone by acting that her last Sabbath dinner with her family might not be important. His 'other self' had given him the upper hand with her, so Finn knew he didn't have to try, but using it wasn't fair to her and wouldn't help things work out.

Even if it was vaguely familiar. Like he'd taken her for granted before. And pissed her off, maybe (almost definitely, she sure knows how to storm off).

Hmm.

I'll stop doing that, Finn decided. On Sunday I'm going to treat her like a queen. She deserves it.

Though he did like how passionate she'd been when she'd stormed off. It was good to see her standing up for herself, and it was also really hot. He'd been kind of aroused watching her, which had only added to his frustration.

Meanwhile... he should try harder to recapture his memories and his feelings for her.

Finn picked up his iPod and started flicking through the songs with a fair amount of trepidation. Then he found the one he was looking for, put in his headphones, and took a deep breath before finally pressing 'Play'.

Highway run, into the midnight sun
wheels go round and round
you're on my mind

Finn listened to himself singing the opening to "Faithfully", hoping he'd remember something. Feel something, even, especially when Rachel came in with her part. But while he enjoyed the sound of her voice, and was more accepting of his own than he'd been before, all he could remember was how panicked he'd been when he'd accidentally heard it before. Damn it. Just like his shrink had warned him, that trying to force memories back too soon or too roughly could put in associations that made it harder to get the real ones back. He'd already stomped all over what might have been a really good trigger. He didn't even feel what he knew he should feel, listening to it, much less remember anything about singing it. And this was probably their make-out playlist, and he didn't feel any echoes of that either.

He looked at his iPod with disgust, barely restraining the impulse to fling it across the room in his frustration. The case already had some damage, maybe he'd done that before.

So now what could he do? How could he reconnect with his memories without trying too hard and ruining things?

And how could he get those words of hers out of his head: "assuming I ever get to talk to him again." Yeah, he'd been out of line demanding that she tell him her secrets, but at the same time he hated thinking that he wasn't really that guy for her. He'd felt on Tuesday that they were connecting, and he really wanted her to be connecting to him, who he was now, not just remembering and wishing the old him was there instead. He wanted to remember and be that guy again, sure, but he also wanted her and hated feeling that he was doomed to fall short if he couldn't bring the old him back.

A/N: The private joke about Rachel's diet is meant to be the one developed during Best Christmas Ever; there's no way Rachel is ever explaining it to anyone, even Finn.
It can't be explained here either (this fic has a T rating), so I'll just say that it has to do with how restrictive veganism is (nothing from an animal source at all).

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