Hey guys! Thanks so much for all your reviews on the last chapter. I appreciate them. To answer a question from a guest review - no, I am not killing Finn. How this will work is this story will end with the Season 4 finale, and then the next progression will be my Season 5 and 6. Enjoy and review if I should keep going!

Chapter 85: Girls and Boys On Film

Rachel stared at the pregnancy test.

She couldn't believe it.

It hd been some time since the wedding, but she had slept with Brody, too. God, what if this was Brody's? What if she was tied to a boy she didn't want to be with, and didn't know why she was with?

If it was Finn's... well, that would make the situation slightly better. She always had wanted kids with Finn.

But not now. Not when they weren't even together and when they were living in different cities.

She'd always tried to be careful when she had sex. She was sure she'd used protection. But maybe she hadn't...

Rachel just sat down and wrapped the stick up in tissues and sat down, starting to cry.

Maybe this was her punishment for being irresponsible. Sleeping with a boy she didn't have feelings for to fill a void in her life, then sleeping with the boy she really loved behind the back of the boy she was actually with... it was wrong. And karma had come back to get her.

x

After glee club practice, Finn went up to Mr. Schue. Of course, what happened at the wedding was completely his fault, and he still felt bad. "So, how's the case going, Detective Schue?"

"Her parents are stonewalling me and I don't have any other leads right now," Mr. Schue said. "So, what else have you been up to?"

Finn wasn't going to let Mr. Schue lose the woman he loved. Finn knew what that felt like. It sucked. "Come on. I'm starting to get worried about you, man."

"Finn, you can't just force someone to do something," Mr. Schue said. "Right now it's about taking a step back and giving her some space. In the meantime, I'm catching up on a lot of old movies. Really calms me down. Look if she really wants to be with me, then she'll come back on her own."

"So, sitting around in front of the TV is somehow supposed to make her want to come back?" Finn asked.

"Of course not," Mr. Schue admitted. "Look, I know she's hurt, but I'm hurt, too. You are a good man, and I really appreciate your concern, but it's time to leave it alone."

Yes, they were both hurt, and it was Finn's fault. "No, it's not. It's time to take action."

Finn tried to think. Who might know? Then he remembered - Coach Sylvester had shown up in Miss Pillsbury's wedding dress. Maybe she had something to do with this. Finn went into her office. "Where is she?" Finn asked.

"What do you mean?" Coach Sylvester asked.

"You showed up in her wedding dress," Finn said. "You must know."

"I'm sorry, Finn Hudson," Coach Sylvester said. "But even I don't know the whereabouts of the lovely yet fragile Miss Emma Pillsbury. But I can tell you she's cashed in all of her vacation days. "

"But you don't know where she went?" Finn asked.

Coach Sylvester looked at Finn. "I have no idea, and frankly, I resent your flabby accusation that just because I wore an exact replica of her wedding dress and was the last person to see her before her Broadway-themed freak-out that I have anything to do with her being missing."

The pot was calling the kettle black. "I'm not accusing you of anything."

"Well, I assume she's checked into some ginger asylum somewhere now that she's escaped from Will Schuester's living dollhouse of the damned," Coach Sylvester suggested. "Even if I were privy to that information, even if I did know, I certainly wouldn't divulge it to a flop sweat-smelling, fake-teen-teaching, Army-deserting, high school-lurking, sectionals-losing, special needs, baby-hating..."

Finn wasn't interested in this. He went back to the choir room, where Artie was. "I went to ask Coach Sylvester if she knew where Miss Pillsbury was and she began one of her classic insulting sprees... Point is, Sue didn't know. There has to be some way to reach her, Artie. We owe Mr. Schue that."

"Finn, let me dispense some Hollywood logic on you, if I may," Artie said. "What we have on our hands is a lady manhunt. We need a hard-target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse."

Finn knew that they didn't have that much time. "Ain't nobody got time for that."

"Okay, then just talk to her parents," Artie suggested.

Finn didn't know if they would help. "You think?"

"Pretty sure that's your only lead," Artie said.

"Okay," Finn said, starting to think. "Well, what would be a good way to get through to them?"

"They are ginger supremacists," Artie said. "When she ran away, they said they were sorry she didn't marry a ginger and now there was hope she could find one..."

Finn got an idea. "We can pretend to be gingers to get through to them."

"Go on," Artie said.

"We can pretend we're in a club for redheads and we need college letters from her," Finn said.

"I like that," Artie said. "You often have good ideas, Finn."

x

Classes at NYADA were cancelled due to a bad snowstorm.

Rachel thought that was probably for the better. There was no way she could focus on classes. Not after what she'd discovered.

Then her phone started ringing. She looked at the Caller ID. Finn. She'd wanted to talk to him. But what would he think?

Rachel picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey," Finn said. "How are you?"

"Snowed in," Rachel said. "Classes at NYADA are cancelled."

"Oh, really?" Finn asked.

"Yeah," Rachel said. She really wanted to tell him. He'd make her feel better. But what if it wasn't his? How would he feel? Would he ever want to get back with her?

The worst part was, there was no way to find out whose it was before it was born. If it was Finn's, she'd consider keeping it, but she didn't want to be tied to Brody forever. If it was his, she'd give it up for adoption. But he might not want that...

"What's going on?" Finn asked. "You're being quiet."

"Just tired," Rachel lied.

"Awww," Finn said. "Well, I'm trying to find Miss Pillsbury. Artie and I came up with a plan. We're going to pretend to be from a ginger club to get through to her through her parents."

"That's clever," Rachel said. God, she missed Finn so much. But what would he think if he knew she was pregnant and she didn't know whose baby it was? He'd probably never want anything to do with her ever again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Finn asked. "You sound down."

"I've been feeling a little under the weather," Rachel said.

"Well, I think something's upsetting you," Finn said. "If you don't feel like you can come to me, you should at least talk to your dads or Kurt or somebody."

Rachel knew her dads would be upset. And Kurt would probably tell Finn. "I'm fine, I promise."

Finn sighed. "If you say so."

"I miss you," Rachel said.

"I miss you too," Finn said. "I'll see you soon, I'll make sure of it."

Rachel managed to smile. "Yeah."

"I have to get to glee," Finn said. "Call me if you need me, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel said. She hung up the phone and heard Santana talking. "Well, let's hope that she's embracing her inner bulimic because let me tell you, homegirl has been looking extremely pumpkin-like and not just 'cause of the Tan in a Can," Santana was saying.

Rachel knew Santana was talking about her. She got up to tell her to stop. "Okay, that's it! You're gonna have to move out because this our sanctuary, and by ours, I mean mine and Kurt's, and frankly, you make me feel uncomfortable, and Brody says that you make him feel uncomfortable as well."

"Girls, girls, retract the claws, all right?" Kurt said. "NYADA canceled all the classes because of the snow, so let's just cozy up to our little movie marathon. Santana, did you go through our DVD collection?"

Santana held up some DVDs. "I sure did. Uh, Knocked Up. Hilarity. Rosemary's Baby that's obviously Lady Hummel's. And, uh, She's Having a Baby." She smirked at Rachel. Did Santana know?

"I don't want to watch any of those," Rachel said.

"Oh, really, Rachel? Not even She's Having a Baby? 'Cause you always cry at the end when Elizabeth McGovern has the baby," Kurt teased.

Did Kurt know, too? "I'm not in the mood, okay? I'm not in the mood," Rachel said.

Kurt reached into the collection. "Okay, fine. Because I have made a selection that is perfect for being snowed-in in New York City. Moulin Rouge, bitches."

At least this didn't have to do with babies. Rachel hoped it would distract her. As Come What May ended, Adam looked at Kurt. "Kurt, are you crying?"

"Um no, no," Kurt stuttered. "My contacts are really bothering me right now."

Why had Kurt never mentioned that to Rachel? "I didn't know you wore contacts."

"Yes, Rachel, I just found out I have a slight astigmatism," Kurt said.

Adam looked at his bag. "Oh, I think I might have some solution in my bag."

Kurt sounded like he was trying to cover something. "No, no, I'm fine. I'll be good. Don't worry."

"I would've thought that you were crying because you and Blaine used to talk about how this was your dream to sing this song to each other at your wedding," Santana said.

Rachel remembered. Kurt had told her that, too.

"Did we?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah," Santana said. "I remember you telling me that singing this song to someone was a more intimate act than sex."

Kurt looked uncomfortable. "Who wants popcorn? Anyone?"

Santana stood up. "No. Hold on. I'm sorry. Can we pause this for a second? Kurt, please sit down. I have something to say, and I have tried to keep it to myself, but I will be silent no longer: that Brody character is a freakin' psycho."

Rachel didn't know what Santana was basing that off. "Here we go..."

Kurt looked intrigued though. "Go on..."

"Listen, when I first met him, totally thought he was weird," Santana began. "He smelled all talcum-y like a Cabbage Patch Doll. And then he said that I wasn't a real New Yorker until I had my first makeover, and I was, like, what does that even mean? Like, who are you?"

Rachel had thought that was weird when Brody said that to her.

"Oh, come on, Brody's a sweetheart," Adam said.

"That's what I told myself, you know?" Santana continued. "I said, 'So what if he's completely hairless and made out of plastic I'm gonna look past the fact that he probably has a disgusting porn star landing strip. I'm gonna give Lars and the Real Boy one more chance.'" She held up a wad of cash. "But then I found this. $1,200 in cash."

Rachel's heart skipped a beat. Was Brody doing something illegal? "When did you find that?"

"Last night when I was rooting through all the pockets and drawers in this apartment," Santana said.

She'd been invading their privacy? "Wait. What? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Santana, you went through all of our stuff?"

"Yeah," Santana said. "That's a thing I do."

"It's completely unacceptable," Kurt said.

"I like how you guys pretend to be all accepting about everything, but when your friend suddenly shows up in your home, moves in and goes through all your stuff, you're offended?" Santana asked.

Rachel hoped that she wasn't dating a criminal. "Just because he has a little money on him doesn't mean that he's a psycho."

"That's what I thought, right?" Santana asked. "Who cares if he's terrified of banks? 'Cause if I were made out of plastic, I'd be scared of a lot of things, too: Open flames, barbecues." She held up a weird black device. "Then I found this."

"Is that a garage door opener?" Kurt asked.

"This is a pager, my friends," Santana said. "And there's only one type of person in this world that carries cash and a pager. Your friend Brody is a drug dealer."

A drug dealer?

Rachel didn't know what to think... Santana was pretty smart. What if Brody actually was a drug dealer?

Her life was really ruined.

x

Finn and Artie had sprayed their hair red with some spray from CVS and sent an e-mail to Miss Pillsbury's parents to meet them at the office. "Okay, so let me get this straight," Mr. Pillsbury said. "You brought us here because the Stop Ginger Bullying Club founded by our daughter is in trouble."

"We're leaderless," Artie said. "We're hemorrhaging money. We won't make it to the end of the month."

"That's horrible," Mrs. Pillsbury said. "Rusty, can't we do something?"

Mr. Pillsbury sniffed. "You two don't smell like gingers."

Finn didn't know what he meant. "What do gingers smell like?"

"Gingers smell like pennies," said Mr. Pillsbury. "We have a slight coppery odor."

"It's true," Mrs. Pillsbury added. "When Rusty's away on one of his business trips to Ecuador and I'm really missing him, sometimes I shove my face in a bowl full of loose change and inhale really deeply, and it's like he's sitting right next to me."

That was wierd. "Look, it's not about the money," Artie said. "It's about your daughter, Emma. We just really need our faculty sponsor to come back."

"See, it's college application time, and young Artie Seymour Hoffman here really needs a scholarship," Finn added.

"If I were you, I'd forget about the hair and lead with the wheelchair thing," Mrs. Pillsbury said.

"You don't want Emma's advice about college," Mr. Pillsbury said. "She doesn't know anything. The kids at this school don't seem to even think about what college they want to go to until about a week before graduation. That's weird. You're supposed to figure that out when you're a junior."

"Look, I just need her to proofread my personal essay," Artie said. "All we need is an address. We just need to know where she is."

Mr. Pillsbury got out a piece of paper and wrote down an address. "She's at our other daughter's house."

Finn felt accomplished. "Thank you."

x

The snow was getting worse and worse. All Rachel wanted to do was go to a doctor. Maybe the doctor would know something...

"Oh, my God, it's getting worse out there," Kurt said, interrupting Rachel's thoughts. "We've been snowed in for 48 hours. Let's finish watching Moulin Rouge before we lose power again. Or start eating each other."

"Oh, no, please spare us," Santana complained. "If I see one more scene of Satine coughing up blood into a handkerchief, I'm gonna start coughing up blood into a handkerchief."

"Come on, Santana, it's so good, and we're right in the middle of it," Adam said. "Let's put it to a vote. Yea."

"Oh, house vote," Kurt said. "I say yea."

"Yea," Rachel said. "Moulin Rouge it is."

"Well, what about Brody's vote?" Santana asked. "Or do drug dealers not get to vote?"

Rachel had to admit, she had been thinking about Santana's theory. Why had Brody just disappeared and never even called her? "Okay, he's not a drug dealer. Please, okay? It's snowing outside. He's probably just stranded somewhere. Do you want me to call him? I'll prove it to you." Rachel dialed Brody's number.

The phone rang and Brody picked up. "Hey Rach." He sounded distracted...

"Hey babe," Rachel said. "Where are you?"

Brody sounded like he was trying to think of something to say. "Aw, the bridges are closed I'm stuck at my friend's house in Manhattan. You remember Leo, right?"

Rachel was becoming suspicious. "Well, I miss you. We're in the middle of watching Moulin Rouge, and so we're getting to the part where Ewan McGregor cries."

"Hey, l-listen, I, uh, I got to go," Brody said. "I will be back as soon as I can."

Why had he been in such a hurry to get off the phone? Rachel hung up the phone and looked at Santana. "There you go." But she wasn't sure. In fact, this had almost proved Santana right.

But Rachel didn't want to confirm anything until she found out for herself.

Kurt whispered to Santana. "I'm with you." He probably thought Rachel hadn't heard him, but she had.

x

Now that Finn had Miss Pillsbury's whereabouts, he was going to help his mentor find the woman he loved. He went up to Mr. Schue with the address. "I found her.

Mr. Schue looked surprised. "What? Where?"

"She's been staying at her sister's house up on Hilltop Lane," Finn said. "You got to go to her."

"I think she made it pretty clear she doesn't want to see me," Mr. Schue said.

"Well, then you have to make her want to see you," Finn said. "Come on, Mr. Schue, you don't have a choice. This is like in the third act of the movie, where the heartbroken guy chases through the crowded city streets to win his girl back, and then he does some big romantic gesture, and the music swells, and then the crowd applauds, and their eyes well up with tears and then she'll take you back. That's just the way it works."

Why hadn't he given himself advice like that about Rachel? He could try something like that...

x

Brody got back the next day.

Rachel noticed he was being particularly distant. It didn't bother her though. She needed time to herself to think about everything. Her thoughts were interrupted when Santana came inside. "Okay, New York may be disgusting, especially when it's covered in gray, nasty snow, and the people may be horrible and rude, and some smelly homeless man in pee-stained tighty-whities might have groped me on the subway, and then asked me for a dollar, but I gots to say, I finally feel like I have found my people," Santana said.

Rachel had to admit, that was how she felt about New York, too. "Glad that you found your corner of the sky, Santana."

"Where are the Hardy Boys?" Santana asked. "Investigating the mystery of God, Could You Be Any More Annoying?"

"Kurt and Adam are at NYADA," Rachel said.

"And Pablo Escobar? Did he ever come home?" Santana asked.

"Brody is in the shower," Rachel said.

"Where he will be for the next hour, scrubbing the drug shame off of his frictionless body," Santana said.

Rachel knew she was obligated to stand up for Brody. "For the hundredth time, okay, if you keep making fun of Brody..."

"I'm not," Santana interrupted. "I mean, I am. Just, not now. Okay, look, now that we're alone, I want to talk to you about what I found in your bathroom trash can, underneath the wadded-up tissue paper, the used cotton swabs and the soiled acne wipes. An item which, unless Lady's Hummel's actually been a lady all these years, could have only be yours."

Had Santana found it? Rachel tried to pretend she didn't know. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Rachel you're really not gonna tell me about the stick?" Santana asked.

Rachel started crying. "You had no right."

"Rachel, I'm your friend, you can trust me," Santana said. "Just tell me what's going on."

Rachel just started crying. She had to admit, even though she and Santana had a rough history, it was good to finally be able to let it out. She hugged Santana and started crying.

"Oh, God," Santana said. "You're gonna be okay. It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

Rachel looked at Santana. "I don't even know..."

"Know what?" Santana asked.

"Whose it is," Rachel admitted.

"We'll figure things out," Santana said.

"I have a doctor's appointment next week," Rachel said. She'd finally made one today."

"I'll go with you," Santana said.

"Thank you," Rachel said. She had to admit, now that she'd told someone, she felt better.

x

Mr. Schue had gotten Miss Pillsbury back. At the end of glee, Mr. Schue walked out with Finn. "Boy mopes around and sits on his ass until his best man helps save the day. Thank you."

"Yeah, I mean, you would have done the same thing for me," Finn said. "You have, like, probably a thousand times. So, uh, you and Miss Pillsbury talked it all out?" He had to keep asking himself - was it all because of him?

"Yeah," Mr. Schue said. "I mean, I actually think all this craziness was for the best. I mean, I actually think it's going to make our relationship stronger."

"Did she say anything about me?" Finn asked. Maybe this hadn't been because of him.

Mr. Schue looked confused. "No. Why would she?"

Finn had to admit it now. "Because I kissed her." Mr. Schue looked at Finn in shock. Now Finn had to explain. "Well, she she was freaking out about the wedding, and going all AC/DC, and I tried to calm her down. And then I just I kissed her. But I didn't mean to because I don't even think of her like that. I swear. And I tried to tell you, but I couldn't, because I knew that it would ruin everything, and it's all my fault, so just just go ahead and just-just punch me, or whatever, because I deserve it. I'm so sorry."

Mr. Schue didn't say anything to Finn. He looked at him like he was a disgusting parasite in the bed before walking away in silence.

Finn could have not said anything. He felt like the biggest idiot ever.

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