A/N: since I have no experience of the Allen County Fair in Lima, I have used my own apparently typical local fair and exhibition as a model.
Much thanks for all the reviews, especially from new readers! Welcome aboard the angst slow train.

Monday morning Finn was back at the shrink's office, spending most of his hour giving the doctor a rundown on his week. Belhaven was particularly interested in the night before, when he'd been singing; it was a good sign that Finn was starting to naturally feel like doing things he'd been active in during the time he'd forgotten, and he was encouraged to do more whenever he felt like it. Formerly familiar activities were good, Finn was told. But relax and don't think about them. And don't let the subconscious take over.

The doctor seemed to ignore the apparent impossibility of putting all three of those aspects together, and Finn felt as if someone was yelling at him to "Relax!". It didn't seem like he could follow all that at once, to do those things deliberately but not think about it too much, like there was a very fine line he should walk on. But he'd try, keep his eyes open for something he felt like doing that might fit. And he wouldn't mind getting 'back' into singing.

Finn left with a final injunction from his shrink to not be too impatient; memories could behave strangely, and sometimes it could be hard to tell when a memory was from. The fact that he'd moved and had new relationships should help there, since parts of his life were so different it should be somewhat easier to tell memories apart. He should try to explore his memories a bit, expand out from them to see if he could remember where he was, what he'd been doing, who he was with, or other things that could help him pin down the context and time. It was easy to remember without realizing it, he was told, and he needed to be less tense about the fact that no memories seemed to be coming back.

But Finn grumbled about these instructions as he drove home. Easy for him to say I should be patient, he's not the one who's forgotten being engaged to a girl who's leaving town first thing Friday. All he really wanted now was a memory of Rachel.

Since he still didn't remember Rachel from before, Finn wanted even more to enjoy time with her now, but he was down to just one night, Tuesday. He picked her up at five to go to the county fair.

She looked so pretty, wearing a pink spaghetti-strap sundress sprinkled with small white dots, her hair falling in a smooth shine down her back. When she asked, he reassured her that it was just fine to wear to the fair, quelling his body's impulses to do something else entirely. The high neckline left her shoulders otherwise bare, and she smelled wonderful.

First stop at the fair was food. Finn lined up for a couple of plates of fries, the thin spiraly kind made by spinning a potato into a blade; they still used vegetable oil, so they were fine for Rachel. The pizza people made one without meat and left off the cheese for them when they asked. Finally Finn came back to their seats with something that was just for him, a tray of three corn dogs.

"You're probably going to find this pretty disgusting," he warned Rachel with a grin, "but these things are great. I can't go to the fair without having some." Rachel just smiled at him and kept eating the fries; he was glad he'd gotten two plates of them because she'd had most of one. Guess even vegans got hungry. And the corn dogs were great. Just as well she wasn't eating those, though, as his brief mental image of Rachel with a corn dog went straight to his groin. Finn thought cold thoughts and finished his food as she chatted about food substitutes and how someone had invented vegan corn dogs, though when he commented that this seemed pointless she laughed and agreed.

"I'm sure there's much tastier ways to eat vegan than that," Finn explained. "If someone really wants a corn dog they should just have one, or if they want to eat something else they should have that."

"Of course," Rachel agreed. "But there are people who come up with substitutes for everything, it's the principle of it."

"Seems like a lot of work for something pretty basic. Just find something you like and eat it."

Rachel laughed. "It's not a principle unless you're willing to put excessive effort into it."

Now that they'd eaten, they took a look around the fairgrounds. As promised, they skipped the animal pens, but they did take a look through the exhibit hall at the various crafts and garden competition exhibits. There wasn't anything here either of them cared about, which made it easier to just look around and talk a little about what things they liked best or joke about what some things looked like.

But then they were looking at the quilts, and there was a large one they both liked the looks of (not the big prizewinner, the second place one was less fussy and they liked it better), and Rachel suddenly became a lot more distant. Finn gave her a quick glance, realizing something was wrong, and walked with her away from that exhibit since it was obvious she wanted to go. And then mentally kicked himself for not realizing that they'd just essentially picked out a quilt together and of course it would upset her because they should have been doing it for real.

They needed a change of focus, fast, so he wandered into the food exhibits with her and asked her what her favorite kind of jam was. She countered by asking him to guess, and her smile returned when 'strawberry' turned out to be right. And this led to her pointing out the various visual features of a good strawberry jam, and agreeing with the judges about their selection of the prize winners.

Finn just shrugged at this. "All I really care about is how it tastes," he said nonchalantly.

"If it looks good it usually tastes good too, you can tell a lot about a jam by the state of the fruit." Rachel continued her light lecture on jam as they walked along the aisle, and Finn chuckled to himself; she really was intense about everything. But he found he rather liked it, and hey, nothing wrong with finding out about good jam.

They reached the end of the preserves, and turned into the baking aisle. "So you never entered your cookies here, huh?" Finn asked Rachel. "I bet you'd win if you did."

Rachel smiled. "Would you believe that's not the first time you've said that?"

"Really?" Finn glanced at Rachel, who still seemed relaxed. He was amazed at how resilient she was. "So why didn't you?"

"You soon decided that it was a bad idea."

"Huh." He looked at the entries again, at the baking drying up under the exhibit lights. "Well it is a waste, giving some to the judges and then having the rest sit around like this."

Rachel laughed. "And that was why. Something like that anyway, more like how you wanted to keep them all to yourself."

"Yeah, I can see doing that. And when it comes to cookies I'm an expert, so you don't need those other judges."

"I never thought I did. And I didn't make them for bake sales any more either, at least they never got that far, so that's why Kurt didn't know I used to."

"'Never got that far'?" Finn grinned. "As in, 'why don't I just eat them now, I'll make a donation?'"

Rachel giggled. "Pretty much. Even when I made more, you always had first dibs." She gave him a quiet smile. "Still do."

Finn's insides gave a lurch, and he was sure that wasn't because they'd been discussing food. He squelched his impulse to kiss her as being inappropriate, at least for now. Though as they walked back through the exhibits and out through the open hall entrance, their hands brushed and it seemed so natural to take hold, their fingers interlacing.

Once back outside, Finn led Rachel back to the games area, planning to win her something.

"Hudson!" A shout from the left drew their attention, and he saw a familiar red mullet: Rick Nelson, who he remembered as a new star on the McKinley hockey team. They'd had a bit of a hockey/football rivalry developing.

Finn turned, Rachel moving with him as their hands stayed clasped together. "Hey Nelson," he said, looking at his mocking expression and challenging attitude. Apparently the rivalry had continued.

The hockey player, wearing a "Property of the University of Michigan Wolverines" t-shirt, came towards them, flanked by a few of his friends. They were all carrying slushies. "Looks like the wild rumors of your mental collapse were wrong," he said, clearly eyeing Rachel who moved closer to Finn.

"Guess so," Finn replied. "Hope you're planning to drink those slushies."

Rick smirked and took a long pull from the cup he held. "It's too hot to waste them on you two."

"Shouldn't you be at training camp?" Finn asked. The tee was a giveaway.

"Got a couple of days break, having one last blowout with the boys here. At least I have a training camp to go to."

"At least I've only had one blow to the head," Finn retorted. Even without remembering it wasn't hard to mix things up a bit with Rick Nelson, who seemed much the same as three years ago, still with the same dumb haircut, still not really big enough to make it in the majors on muscle, still not smart enough to make it on talent. Still enjoying being a medium fish in a small pond. He felt Rachel pull closer to him, and he held her hand more tightly. That's why Rick probably thought he was fine, he realized, because he was with Rachel. They must have looked normal together, or he'd like to think so.

Rick snorted. "Whatever," he said, turning away. "Glad to see it didn't kill you, Hudson," he called back.

"Hope you're as lucky." Finn chuckled as he watched the puckheads leave, then looked down at Rachel, who was giving him a strange smile. "He's not hard to fool," he said, trying to carefully let her know that he hadn't been remembering.

"No he's not," Rachel said. "He hasn't changed much either. But you have." He looked askance at her, not sure what she meant. "I don't know if you want to hear this or not, but even not remembering... you feel a lot more like you." She squeezed his hand. "Not that you didn't before, but you're easier with yourself, more relaxed, or something like that. You're letting yourself be you."

Finn smiled awkwardly. "I hope that's good."

"It's wonderful." And for that, and the beaming smile she gave him, he just had to lean down to steal a quick kiss. And now he definitely had to win her something.

The bottle game was his best bet; there was a sweet spot you had to hit that wasn't the obvious place to try for. He watched the kid running the game demo it, then grinned as the people ahead of him couldn't do it. Might as well show off a little, she needed to know this was hard. And it was, if you didn't know where to try for, and if you didn't have a quarterback's aim. Finn had become a QB because he was tall, he could read the play when others couldn't see over the other players, but he'd put a lot of work into his aim. This wasn't a football but that didn't matter. And when Finn stepped to the front and put his money down, he found his aim just as true as ever, one-two-three. It took longer to decide on a prize than it took for him to win it; he wanted Rachel to pick it out for herself but she was adamant that he should and seemed very happy with the brown bear with the gold star that he eventually chose. And the game-runner made the best of it, using Finn's success as proof that it could be done, and he probably made a lot more money that way than he'd lost.

Last stop was the Ferris Wheel, to get a view of the fairground all lit up as darkness fell. Rachel wormed her way under Finn's arm and leaned against his chest as they lifted off the ground. His back was a little bent, with her weight added, so he straightened up a little as he tried to find a better position.

"Please don't pull away," she breathed, her voice tight.

"I wasn't," he insisted quietly. "Just shifting to get more comfortable."

"Okay." She eased, and he heard her inhale slowly and deeply. His arm went around her, tightening around her waist. She was so small, that he could wrap it around her like that. His fingertips grazed the tucks at the top of her dress's skirt, with his palm splayed over her stomach. The fabric beneath his hand was thin and tight, and he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath as he idly moved his thumb over it. It felt really good. If they were just getting to know each other, like his memories had it, he might try a little something at this point. They were a few dates in and her kisses were the stuff of dreams. If he remembered her, or just gave into his instincts, he would surely do a lot more, even in full view of the fairground. Caught between the two, he just sat there and held her as the Ferris Wheel went around. She'd been breathing in his scent, and he guessed he must still feel and smell the same. He could give her that much, at least, even if he couldn't bring back the guy she was remembering.

He drove her back to her house and walked her to the door, neither one wanting to say goodbye or even goodnight.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Finn," Rachel said, turning to him at her door.

"So did I," Finn replied, his voice a little husky. He cleared his throat and tried to joke about the fair. "And now you know what you'll be missing, right?"

"I'll always know what I'll be missing," Rachel whispered, burying her head into his chest. Finn let his arms fall around her, and they stood silently together until Rachel eventually turned away and went into the house.

Finn woke up the next morning hard, and turned his thoughts to Rachel, thinking of her in his arms a little like she'd been last night. I probably did this a lot in the morning, he thought. I wish I could look at her... And then he smirked, realizing that the picture that had been on his nightstand would have been used for this, and that the more together guy he'd been finding he'd become was still a horny teenage boy he could relate to. Maybe he could bring that back even if he couldn't get anything else yet, anything for a toehold (yeah, good excuse).

After breakfast he went to talk to his mom. It was long past time he got his pictures back. She agreed, having simply waited until he asked, and he followed her into her room where she brought them out of the side of her closet.

Finn looked at them: his copy of the big Nationals picture he'd seen in Rachel's room (and they did look so very happy), the New York City skyline at dusk, Millennium Park in Chicago, and an ornate bridge over water in a treed park.

"That's Central Park," his mom explained. More New York. Of course they'd been there together. Same for Chicago, he supposed.

"What about the one of Rachel?" he asked, not seeing the one he was looking for.

"Oh, that was too small to put with the rest, I'll get it." She looked at him curiously. "How do you know about that?"

Finn sighed. No, he wasn't remembering, just using his brain. "There was obviously one on the nightstand, I saw the marks where it was. What else would it be?"

His mother gave a small tight smile. "I suppose. Just hoping."

"I know. And maybe if I get them back where they used to be it could help."

"It's worth a try," she agreed. "I'm sorry I didn't pay more attention to where they were." She went to a drawer and came back with an eight by ten stand-up picture frame which she handed to him.

Finn turned it over, and sure enough there was Rachel, looking stunning, her hair up with tendrils framing her face and a smile on those luscious lips. Her shoulders were completely bare, exposed by her strapless pale pink dress, and he figured in dim light and with his eyes half-closed she probably looked mostly naked. So this would be from prom, obviously, but it should also be great to jerk off to. Nice choice, Hudson, classy and also not. A high black-suited shoulder was visible behind her, going with the long arm around her and the man's hand that sat at her waist. That right hand held her left one, the thumb gently touching the ring that sparkled on her finger, and he knew it was his.

He wished he remembered. He wished he even felt that way, that gesture showed a man who truly cherished her. But even though he couldn't do that or recreate that, he could be at least a bit like the guy who'd chosen that picture to look at when he woke up in the morning. Even though he was going to be colossally embarrassed explaining his choice of "formerly familiar activities" to his bound-by-confidentiality shrink. Maybe he'd get lucky and he'd remember enough so he wouldn't have to explain how he did it.

Who was he kidding, he wasn't lucky. He'd exhausted his supply of luck just finding her in the first place. But if he could remember anything, especially about her, he'd take it. And if there was any activity he should be able to get into even knowing that he was trying to recreate it, it would be that, and maybe not being completely awake would help his subconscious come through. Made for a decent excuse anyway.

Finn took the pictures back to his room. Unfortunately his mom, in her hurry, hadn't kept track of which picture had gone where, and she didn't remember. He tried out a few options, looking at them out of the corner of his eye to see if he might be able to tell, but nothing seemed any more or less likely than the others.

He could ask Rachel. But he didn't want to have to go into that with her if he didn't have to, she knew he was trying but telling her about each attempt and detail would just rip her heart out again and again if they didn't work. So who else would remember what his room looked like? Puck. Or... he heard a noise from downstairs, as he wasn't the only person moving stuff around. Kurt, moving his boxes out of his room. He and Burt were leaving that night, driving to New York.

Finn went downstairs to talk to his stepbrother. "Kurt? I know you're totally busy, but I really need your help with something."

"It's a little last-minute," Kurt protested.

"I know. But you care about what rooms look like, right? So you might be able to help me with this. Please, Kurt."

Kurt frowned, puzzled, then followed Finn upstairs. "You want me to help you redecorate your room? Now?"

"More like un-redecorate my room." Finn led Kurt into his bedroom, where he'd put the missing pictures out on his bed. "I got these back from my mom, I figured I was ready. And I want to try putting it back the way it was, to see if that'll help, but I don't know what went where and she wasn't sure either. You care about stuff like that so I figured you might have noticed." He nodded to the nightstand, where the picture of Rachel was back in its former place. "Aside from the obvious, of course. I'll help you haul stuff for the rest of the day, just please help me figure this out."

"I thought you were going to help anyway," Kurt grumbled, but his focus was on the pictures. He stepped into the middle of Finn's room and closed his eyes for a few moments. "Bow Bridge was across from the bed," he said. "Nationals next to the Buckeyes poster, I think. And the cityscapes..." he frowned and opened his eyes. "Put the others up and we'll see."

Finn put the first two pictures up as directed, and was happy to see Kurt nod. The other two went into the remaining vacant spots, and Kurt looked at them for a moment and then reversed them. "That should be it," Kurt said. "I'll let it sit and look in later, see if it seems wrong at all. But you really should check with Rachel."

"I can't bug her about every last little thing I'm doing to remember, it just hurts her."

"Fine, but she'd know exactly what your room looked like. I think it's right now, though." He clasped his hands together. "Now let's move some boxes."

The next morning Finn woke up hard again, and turned his head to look at Rachel's picture as he started to take care of himself. And it felt good, seeing her like that through narrowed eyes added something to the experience ('cause, yeah, she did look kinda naked that way), helped him think about her tight body and that sweet curve and soft skin of her neck as he came. He even saw her with him dressed in that pink sundress she'd worn on Tuesday, but coming right up to him and loving and trusting him and letting him touch her everywhere. Wanting him to. So amazing. But then he felt guilty because the hand he'd had on his junk was also the one at her waist in the picture, holding her hand like she was the most precious thing on Earth, and all he could manage to feel right now was that he liked her and wanted her.

Though he knew he'd do it again. And he must have before, though he still didn't remember. But this wasn't right and he knew it, though it would be even worse for him to be fantasizing about anyone else.

Then that evening came, the time Finn had been dreading. Rachel was leaving tomorrow morning for New York.

He hadn't talked about it with her, he hadn't wanted to acknowledge the deadline and probably neither had she. He had hoped so much that he would have been able to bring back some memory of her first, just something, anything that could give her hope that he was returning, that she would have him to come back to. But while he'd enjoyed being with her so much and felt them connecting, while he had reacted to her and certainly wanted her, even started to fantasize about her, he still didn't remember her at all. He was going to have to say goodbye to her without having that hope to give either of them, and that sucked beyond belief. And it also sucked to feel that this was needed, that who he was now couldn't be good enough for her.

But he had to see her one more time and talk to her, so he went over to her house. The door was answered by her father, LeRoy, who he hadn't officially met again but he'd seen. Finn squirmed at the man's intense gaze as he was asked in.

"Finn," LeRoy said. "I take it you're here to see Rachel."

"Yes." Finn clenched his hands at his sides, finding them sweaty.

"I'm her father LeRoy, by the way."

"Uh, yes, I saw you in the musical. You were really great," Finn babbled a little. "It's, uh, good to meet you, again I guess."

LeRoy gave him a small smile. "We've missed having you around here," he said. "You can come by, you know, even once Rachel's in New York. We'd like to have you, and of course we'd do anything to help you if we could."

Wow. Wasn't expecting that. "Uh, thank you," Finn stammered. He swallowed. "You know I really want to remember," he said quietly, needing Rachel's father to understand, even trust him with his daughter as much as was possible.

"I know." LeRoy paused. "There's one thing I should tell you about Rachel," he said. "I'm sure you knew it before, but it's important that you know now too." He looked intently at Finn. "Our little girl... she has the truest heart that ever beat. She's even had the same favorite movie since she was five, she relates to it differently now but it's still hers. What she loves, she loves; her heart expands to take in new things but she never lets anything go." Finn just stood there, not sure what to say, or even what the man meant by telling him this. That Rachel would never give up on him? LeRoy went on. "We weren't the biggest fans of you for her at first, you're a very decent young man but you seemed so unlike her, and you're both so young for the level of commitment you made. But we eventually realized that the way in which you were her match was in your heart."

Seeing the man's dark eyes fixed on him, Finn nodded, in acknowledgement rather than agreement. He still didn't know what the point was but he supposed it sounded good. And if it was his heart that mattered then maybe his missing memories weren't a deal-breaker. But he didn't know how he was supposed to build anything with her when they were going to be so far apart.

LeRoy stepped to the stairs and called up. "Rachel, princess? Could you come down here please?"

"Coming, dad!" Rachel chirped from above, and she came quickly downstairs, only to freeze when she caught sight of Finn standing with her father.

"Hey," he said, trying to smile.

"Hello Finn." Her eyes were wide and fixed on him. He'd never seen her not in a dress before; right now she wore a medium blue tank top and a small pair of jean shorts. With her hair in pigtails, she looked completely adorable. He spotted the chain around her neck that carried her ring, and lowered his gaze.

"So...' Finn shuffled his feet. "I know you're leaving tomorrow, for New York," he said, raising his eyes back to her. "I just wanted to come by to say goodbye." And see you again, he thought, leaving that unsaid.

"I'll leave you two," LeRoy said, and they heard him go downstairs.

Finn looked at Rachel, their eyes meeting, neither knowing what to say. He swallowed, trying to stop the lump from forming in his throat. "So you're coming back at the holidays, right?" He had to know when he'd see her again.

"Some of them, yes," she said.

"Thanksgiving? Or at Christmas, well Hanukkah for you, don't you have a break then?"

"Probably not Thanksgiving," Rachel replied. "It's not long and my dads are talking about coming to New York for it. We usually visit my uncle at the end of Hanukkah."

"Oh." Finn was stunned. Doesn't she want to come back? He stared at her, not sure what to say.

"It's family arrangements, I don't know what's going to happen..." Rachel was clearly distressed too. "I just hadn't thought about it, I..." She closed her eyes momentarily, then fixed them on Finn again. "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"I know," Finn said quietly. "Rachel –" he swallowed again, trying to get his thoughts into some sort of coherence. "I've really enjoyed spending time with you, these last couple of weeks," he said. "I don't know why I don't remember, but some stuff is starting to come back, at least to use it, subconscious memories or something like that according to the shrink, but it – it's something. And some of the things I've said might be based on memories too." Finn looked at the ceiling, knowing that he was grasping at straws, then he finally brought himself to meet her questioning gaze. "I can't make any promises, hell I'd remember everything if I could, and nothing's come back consciously. But right now I really want to be able to see you again. Talk to you again, I really like talking to you and being around you."

Rachel exhaled, obviously struggling to stay in control. "Me too."

"Well, yeah."

"No, I mean... you now. It's not just because I remember our past."

"Oh. Yeah, I -" Finn broke off, her words registering. "Really?" he asked, hoping it was true. Sure he wanted to remember, bring back the man he'd been... but he'd seen those looks in her eyes and wished they could be for him, as if he was jealous of himself. Hoped that those kisses could really be with him, now. He wanted to be appreciated for who he was, instead of as a broken version of who he used to be or a stand-in for the fiancé she remembered. Even though he didn't love her the way that man had.

"Yes," she insisted, responding to him. "The other night at bowling, Sunday at your place, and at the fair – I had a really good time with you. And talking to you, too."

Wow. Finn smiled at her. He liked that, that maybe she'd been feeling that connection to him as well. But it was all still so new to him, and he didn't know what sort of future they could have. But the way he was starting to feel about her, and what he knew about their past, he wasn't sure he could have a future with anyone else. He hesitated, trying to put what he was feeling into words, words that wouldn't hurt now or lead to hurt later. "For me, it's not just my subconscious, or trying to bring it back either," he admitted. "You... there's just something about you."

"Do... do you think you're remembering? Us?"

"Not that I can tell, not consciously. Maybe it's just –" Finn looked down at the floor again, then back at her. "Maybe it's just that I've always been drawn to you," he said, very softly. He swallowed. "And I don't know what to do about it, what either of us can do about it, it's not three years ago. I can't promise anything more serious will happen between us, or that I'll remember, and I don't want to hurt you any more than this already does, you have to go on with your studies, prepare for your future. And I'm so sorry that I wasted all that time, this summer." He focused on her face. "I just really want to be able to see you again."

"We could still talk," Rachel offered. "It's New York, it's not the moon."

"Yeah." But Finn paused. The whole situation was just so fucked up. "I don't know if that's a good idea, though, at least not yet. I mean..." he looked at Rachel's disappointed face. "What would we talk about? How you're doing, how I'm doing..." He groaned, shaking his head.

"Oh." Rachel paused. "Kind of unnatural, huh?"

"The whole thing is unnatural. I think it'd just hurt, if we talked about the things we should be doing together that we're not. And I don't want you to worry about how things are with me, to be always waiting to hear if I remember something, get hurt if I don't."

"I'll worry anyway."

"Yeah, I know, I guess I just don't want to distract you and keep hurting you." Or feel the pressure, have to figure out what to tell her every week. "And I'm supposed to relax, somehow." He frowned. "We can try to keep it to the background, for now, if something goes wrong I'll tell you, or someone else will if I can't. And I'll be on Facebook a bit, just basic stuff. I'm not going to disappear."

"You know your Facebook password?" Rachel was puzzled.

"My computer knows my Facebook password. And before you ask, I didn't remember my computer password either, or at least I didn't know it in my head until I changed it. My fingers knew it, which was freaky."

"It would be. You haven't been posting, though."

"Yeah, I know. I'll start again. But I'm not going to say much, and I don't want to change my profile. Too..." Finn struggled to find the right explanation. "Too big a deal, I guess. Like it would really mean things had changed. Forever."

Rachel mustered a smile. "I know what you mean." Neither of them had changed their relationship status, even to "it's complicated" (though it certainly was). As far as the world was concerned, they were still engaged. "Okay. Just..." she paused.

"Just what?"

"Don't pull away, Finn. Please. And not just because I couldn't stand to lose you, but..." She pursed her lips. "It's hard for me to leave because I'll miss you, but even more because I don't want to leave you when you might need me," she stated. "We sort of grew up together, these last few years. We helped each other figure life out. You can count on me, always, if you have to do that again, or if you don't. No matter what. Okay?"

Finn listened, letting her words sink in, seeing the sincerity and love in her eyes. He nodded. "Okay," he replied. It was hard to accept that he might need help, but people did, he'd help someone else if they were in his position. And he did feel left behind, like even Puck had grown up without him. (Luckily grown-up Puck wasn't that grown up.)

"And I'll see you at Christmas," she promised.

"Yeah. I hope..." he trailed off. I hope I'll be better, he thought, but he didn't dare voice it. "I hope I'll have a better idea about where my head is then, these last few weeks have been great but also really intense."

"You need to take the pressure off," she said.

"Yeah. I think so." Finn exhaled. He knew what he had to tell her now, no matter how much he didn't want it. "But... I know you told me that you'd wait, for me, but I – I can't ask you to. It wouldn't be fair to you. Well, none of this has been fair to you, but expecting you to put up with it forever really wouldn't be." This was hard for him to say, and even harder to think of happening. He knew everything he'd been told and had started to feel about how connected they could be, and he wanted that. But he also didn't know how to build a new relationship with her, when his instinct was so very far ahead of his brain. This was all so screwed up, if he didn't remember he might eventually have to let her go, somehow. If he could ever be sure he wasn't going to remember.

"Finn... I didn't say I was willing to wait."

"You... huh?"

"I said that I would. That's what I meant, anyway. It's not a choice, Finn. I love you, that's just the way it is."

"You love him."

"There's not really that much difference. And he's in you, I know that." Rachel lowered her eyes, then looked up at Finn again. "Let's not argue about this. Take care of yourself, all of you, and I'll see you at Christmas."

"Okay. Enjoy New York, it should be amazing."

"I will." She walked him outside, and they turned to face each other. This really was goodbye, for now.

Finn touched her cheek, then leaned down to give her a light kiss. Rachel kissed him back, escalating it quickly, nipping at his bottom lip. Finn pulled back a little, not wanting to lead her on or lose control. He touched his forehead to hers.

"Finn, please," Rachel begged softly, her tears starting to flow. "Let yourself go. Just once more." And he understood: he didn't remember being her fiancé, or feel like he really was that guy, but he could kiss like him, if he let his autopilot take over, and she desperately wanted to feel that again. Finn moistened his lips and kissed her back, losing himself in the moment, letting his subconscious take over the way it wanted to. Their mouths mated passionately, instinctively, tasting each other and the salt of tears.

Even with his subconscious in charge Finn felt it, a fire burning white-hot deep inside him, and his body certainly reacted. They were both breathless when she stopped, and he felt himself get back into conscious control, his nerves still humming with the passion of that kiss. "Thank you," she whispered, then turned to go.

"Rachel, wait." Finn pulled her hand and she turned back to him. He leaned down and wrapped her tightly in his arms, hugging her closely to him, feeling her hands grip his back. Somehow she fit, even though he was so big and she was so small. He held her tightly for a minute or so, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling her body pressed against his. It felt right.

Then they disengaged without a word, and she turned away again and went back inside. As Finn walked slowly back to the car, he realized that some of the tears were his own.

A/N: Okay, I can hear the howls of frustration already, probably because some of them are from me! I swear that I worked this plot out well before "Goodbye" aired; I'm not copying anything here (so perhaps I really do own the plot after all). Rachel's just in the way right now, and there's a bit here where you might be able to see why.

Please review! (Even howls of frustration are welcome.)