Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune.
William James

It was nearly 10:45 by the time I got home, but Finn was waiting up for me. He gave me a huge hug, his fingers tightening on me like he was afraid I was going to disappear. I squeezed back, and was surprised when he tipped my head up to give me a kiss. Something sparked, the same way it did every time Finn kissed me, but I was nervous as well. I pulled back, just enough to speak. "Dad and Carole?"

He smiled against my lips. "Mom's still at work and your Dad's asleep. He was really tired, and he said that I could be trusted to make sure you got home ok."

That was a sly move on Dad's part. By showing this small trust in Finn, he was building the bond between them and making it clear that he thought he could count on Finn. I'm sure that he hoped that, one day, Finn would feel like he could count on Dad back.

Speaking of Finn, he was tugging on my arm. "Come on, come on! Don't you want to see them?"

Them? He better not mean what I thought he did. "What's them?"

"The rats! I thought about what you said, and I sucked it up and asked your Dad to take me to get them." He smiled happily. "You were right, he was really nice about it and he even took me to lunch." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "He didn't make me do anything with him, either."

As pleased as I was that Finn was doing a little better with Dad, I was still horrified at the thought of multiple rodents sharing a bedroom with me. "I'm glad, but I thought we agreed on one rat, that you would take care of all by yourself. How did it become multiple rats, and exactly how many are we talking about?" My overactive brain was supplying me with images of hordes of swarming beasts, all carrying the plague.

Not to mention, why didn't your father stop Finn from getting more then one? Come on, you would think that he would at least act like the voice of reason here.

"Two. We were just going to get one, but then the guy at the store said that they would be happier if we got two." He nudged my shoulder with his. "One of them can be yours if you want."

That was not exactly the bribe that he thought it was. But I didn't want to do anything to ruin Finn's happiness, so I made myself smile. "Sure, lets go meet the rats."

As it turned out, I couldn't have missed the rats, even in the dark. Their cage was at least 5 feet tall, and filled with ramps and little toys for them to climb on. One of the creatures was standing up; his little paws wrapped around the bars and his tiny nose poking through. Finn opened the door and picked it up, the rat sitting happily in his palm. He scratched its head. "His name is Leo. Well, Leonardo, but Leo for short."

I had to admit, it was kind of cute. Its eyes weren't beady, but like little black pearls. When I gathered my courage and lightly stroked its back, the fur was silky and soft, white with some tan spots. Leo turned his head, his whiskers brushing over my finger and making me shiver. "Ok, he's not as bad as I thought he would be. Not scary or filthy at all. Is he named after Leonardo Da Vinci?"

Finn looked at me like I had sprouted a second head. "Who?"

"Leonardo Da Vinci? The guy who painted the Mona Lisa?" Sometimes it's hard to tell if Finn is being deliberately obtuse, or if he really doesn't' understand what's going on.

"Oh, the guy with the code? No, he's named after the Ninja Turtle." Finn put the rat back and pulled a second one out. "This one can be yours if you want him. If you don't, it's ok, but you can still name him."

Despite the part of my brain that was screaming about filth and germs, I put out a hand and let him put the little beast in my palm. It weighed almost nothing, scrabbling around as it stared at me. Reflexively, I brought my hand to my chest to try and contain it, causing it to put its paws on my shirt. My rat was white with a black patch over its eye and a single black spot on one hind leg. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"They're both boys." Finn had that funny smile on his face, the one I could never quite interpret.

"He's smaller then I thought he would be." It was foolish, but the only thing I could think of saying.

"They're just babies. Once they get bigger and are bonded with us, we can teach them tricks. You can even teach them to play fetch, just like a dog!" He looked so pleased that I couldn't bring myself to burst his bubble by telling him that I was pretty sure he was never going to manage that. "So, what do you want to call him?"

"Michelangelo. Mikey for short. Named after both the artist and the Ninja Turtle."

He gave me a shocked look. "You know who the Ninja Turtles are?"

"Finn, I'm gay, not completely ignorant. Yes, I watched the Ninja Turtles when I was little."

A goofy smile spread across his face. "You are awesome!" He touched the rat. "Hi, Mikey." He yawned heavily. "Sorry, I'm kind of tired."

Now that I looked at him, I could see the circles under his eyes, and the slightly glassy look to them. While he had gotten plenty of sleep last night, the day had been emotionally wearing, between me not being there and him taking the step of going somewhere with just Dad. "I brought you some cheesecake, but why don't we wait and have it for breakfast tomorrow."

"Ok." The fact that he was willing to wait told me how tired he was. "Oh, I got you a present while your Dad and I were out, too!"

"Isn't the rat my present?" I still wasn't 100% sure that I wanted a rat of my own, but I appreciated the gesture. I gently put it back in its cage and turned to face him.

"Well, yeah, but this is another present." He looked down. "It's kind of dumb, I guess."

Knowing Finn, it might well be, but it would also be straight from the heart, which made up for just about everything. "I'm sure it isn't. Now what is it?"

"Close you eyes, ok? I want it to be a surprise." I did so, and his hands wrapped around my upper arms, gently guiding me across the room. Unless my orientation was totally confused, he had brought me over to the mirror. "Keep them closed."

I obeyed, listening to him tread across the room and rummage around behind the bed. Then he was back and something was placed on my head, so gently that it didn't even muss my hair. "Ok, look."

When I opened my eyes, I couldn't help but laugh. Apparently Dad had taken Finn to Burger King, and he had come up with one of the paper crowns to give me. Finn studied my reflection. "Do you like it? I know you told Rachel that you missed your tiaras, and I thought that a tiara might be some kind of scarf or something, but when I looked it up, it said it was a crown! So I brought you one as a replacement." His nose wrinkled. "I think that maybe a tiara's one of those little dainty ones, though."

I couldn't help but kiss him again. Finn had actually been paying attention when I complained to Rachel yesterday. Beyond that, he had gone out of his way to get me what he considered to be a replacement for my poor lost tiaras. "It's perfect and sweet. Just like you."

His answering smile could have lit the sun. "Good. I like it when you smile like that."

I wondered what he meant, exactly, but then I caught sight of myself in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the boy staring back at me. Who was this young man with the huge smile and the dancing blue eyes? It couldn't be me. I had a pale, drawn face that always looked half-scared. My eyes were a flat grayish-blue, not the pretty turquoise I was seeing right now.

You're wrong. This is you, Kurt, the way you're meant to look. You're very handsome, when you let yourself go and don't hide behind your worries.

Was that true? I had never thought of myself as handsome. I knew I was well groomed and perfectly dressed at all times. But handsome? No. But this boy in the mirror, the one wearing the goofy paper crown, was. I smiled at him again, and he smiled back. Then I turned to my boyfriend. "Finn, am I handsome?"

"Dude, you're perfect." He gave his head a quick cock. "Except when you nag. But, yeah, you're very handsome. Why?"

"Just asking." I studied us in the mirror, noticing all the differences between us. No matter what Finn thought he saw, I couldn't help but notice all my flaws. Too small, too pale (except for those thrice damned freckles), too skinny. Finn looked like a man and I looked like…well, a girl.

You do not! Actually, you're exactly Finn's type. Small, slender, with pale skin and a sarcastic mouth. You just happen to come with a penis as well.

The penis was, of course, the sticking point. Finn claimed to be fine with it, but I wasn't sure whether or not I believed that. He had seen me naked, yes, but he had also seen the entire football, basketball, and baseball teams naked. Naked wasn't that big of a deal to him. The true test would come later, when he wanted to touch me, or have me touch him. Then it would be real to him, what I had that the girls he had dated didn't.

For the moment, though, he seemed unaware of all of that. Actually, right at the moment, he was busy making faces at himself in the mirror, each more grotesque then the last. I yawned and tapped his shoulder. "I don't know about you, Cowboy, but I'm ready for bed. I've been up since 3:30."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I'll get changed." He chose pajamas and went into the bathroom to dress and brush his teeth.

I changed in the main room, humming softly to myself. Finn had to know that the girls were onto us, no matter how hard it was for me to say. He and I were a team now, and we needed to act like one.

Finn came back out and settled on my bed for out nightly cuddle and talk. I kissed him one last time. "Let my brush my teeth, first, ok? Then I have something to tell you."

"I have something to tell you, too." He was rearranging the pillows as he spoke, and his voice gave no indication of what he was really feeling.

I brushed my teeth as fast as I could and came back out. Finn was stretched out on the bed, so I laid next to him, my head on his chest. His heart was beating faster then normal, so I knew that he was worried. "Do you want to go first, or should I?"

"I'll go. Tina and Mercedes are asking a lot of questions about us. I didn't tell them anything, but I think they already know."

"How did they know if you didn't tell them anything?" Finn was giving me a suspicious look.

I rubbed his arm. "Well, Tina was suspicious because you were asking her so many questions about me. Why were you doing that, anyway?"

"I kind of had to. I kept trying to tell you that I was interested in you, and that I wanted to talk about it, but you didn't really get it."

Such a Finn plan. "You couldn't have just said 'Kurt, I'm interested in you'? That was all it would have taken."

His chest jerked in breathy laughter. "I didn't really think of that. Because if you said no, then you would think that I was some kind of freak, and we would still have to share a room, and it would just be weird. Besides, I thought that you would want me to do something special for you. But I didn't know what to do, so I asked Tina to give me some ideas."

I squeezed him tightly. "Believe me, Cowboy, you just saying it would have been enough." Actually, if he had just come out and said it, I would have probably passed out from shock.

"I didn't think that gay guys did it like that. I didn't know I was just allowed to ask you to be my boyfriend." He craned his neck so we could be eye to eye.

"Finn, gay guys are just like straight guys, except we like men instead of women. When a gay man is attracted to someone, they ask them out, just like you would ask a girl out. Why is that so hard for you to accept?" Finn's stupidity never bothered me, but it really got me irritated when he was deliberately ignorant.

"Because you didn't!" He sounded hurt and frustrated. "You liked me, and don't pretend that you didn't, but you wouldn't say that you did! You didn't do it, so I thought that maybe gay guys couldn't just come out and say they wanted to be with someone."

Well, I hope that makes you feel good, Kurt. Finn might be acting kind of stupid, but he was only following your example.

Yeah, it made me feel really good. About as good as when my father came home with an outfit purchased solely at Walmart. Actually, this might be worse. I sat up so Finn and I were face to face. "What would have you have said if I had told you I liked you back then?"

"No." Finn didn't back down. "I would have said that I thought you were cool, but that I didn't like you like that."

"What changed?" The minute the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Why did I insist on being such a jerk sometimes, especially when I knew how badly simple words could wound someone?

Finn's eyes darkened with hurt. "Everything." He started to get up, to return to his own bed, but I grabbed his arm.

"Wait, Finn. I'm…I'm sorry." I tugged him gently until he sat back down. He was still tense and wary, but he let me rub his shoulder. "That was cruel and it came out wrong. What I meant was, when did your feelings about me change?"

"I don't know." His muscles slowly unknotted under my hands, but I could tell he was ready to bold at the slightest provocation. "Not when I first came back, but I wasn't really thinking about anything like that, then. Actually, I don't really remember that very well at all. Like, seriously, the first two weeks are like some sort of dream now."

That made a lot of sense. With the amount of trauma he had undergone, not only at the Wrights, but the night spent alone on the porch, then having to go to the hospital and have a rape kit done, a certain amount of shutting down was probably what had saved Finn's long-term sanity. "I understand."

He gave me a tiny, crooked smile. "After that, you were always there. Like, always. I know that you pretty much gave up your whole summer, so, thanks for that."

"No problem. We're a family, and we stick together."

"Anyway, you were this super cool guy, but you were still a guy. So I thought that we could just be friends and brothers and that would be cool, too. I knew that you liked me, but you weren't doing anything about it, so it was safe."

See? What did I tell you? You backed off, and you let Finn come to you, and he did. Would you like to say thank you to me right now, or would you like to sulk for a while first?

Reluctantly, I gave my mental voice my thanks. It had told me exactly what to do, while I would have just screwed it up on my own. While I was thinking about it, Finn gave me a poke. "Are you listening to me?"

"I am. So, what changed? I do still have a penis, you know."

He laughed. "I know. I saw it the other day."

My face heated with embarrassment. And maybe a tiny amount of arousal, but I wasn't going to talk about that. "I remember."

"Well, that's kind of it." His voice got softer, but he didn't stop talking. "I mean, I already know that I can get off from being with a guy. That was the problem before. It wasn't that you weren't great, and that I didn't like you. It was just that I couldn't imagine that I could, you know, get hard being with a dude."

Being able to get hard wasn't the same as actually enjoying it, but I was afraid to bring that up. Finn kept going, though, as if he was reading my mind. "So, um…then I saw you in the bathroom, and I'm still really sorry, by the way, and I saw everything and it was…ok."

"Wow, Finn, you sure know how to make a guy feel sexy." Really? My equipment was just 'ok'?

"Huh?" Then he was laughing again, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. "No, not like that. I mean, whenever I saw Josephs junk, I felt all dirty and like I would puke, so I thought that I would feel that way about everyone. But I didn't feel like that when I saw yours, so that was good. I mean, we were already kind of in a relationship anyway, just without the sex. And if the sex was a maybe, I thought that I could try. You stuck with me this far, maybe you would still be interested."

"And I was. We'll worry about the sex later, though. Neither one of us is ready for that sort of step." I had to keep emphasizing that, just so he was sure.

"Dude, I get it. But back to your original question. Go ahead and tell them. I told you it was ok the first night."

Now that he said that, I did remember him telling me not to lie if asked directly. "I just wanted to be sure."

"I am." His hand found my shoulder blades, and he rubbed quietly for a while. I was almost asleep when he nudged the top of my head with his chin. "So? Do you want to hear what I had to tell you?"

"Of course." Honestly, I had forgotten that he had anything to tell me at all, but, judging by the look on his face, it was important.

"I, um…" He blew out a short breath while he tried to formulate his thoughts. "Do you remember when Rachel came over, and we were getting ready? You know, you came upstairs and I was talking to Officer Ready, but I wouldn't tell you what I was talking to him about?"

"I do. Are you ready to tell me about it?" Since that voice had been so adamant about it before, I left all the choices up to Finn.

He nodded. "I know where the pictures are. The police couldn't find them when they searched the house, but I know where they are."

This was a classic example of 'Finn logic'. He had been thinking about the aforementioned pictures for several days, so therefore, he assumed that I knew exactly what he was talking about when, in reality, I was drawing a blank. "The pictures?"

"The ones he took. The bad ones." Finn was whispering now, like he was afraid that someone else would hear him.

"The pictures that Joseph took of you?" I knew that they were, but I also knew that it would be easier if Finn didn't have to say it himself.

"Yeah." He sighed deeply, his fingers stroking the side of my neck.

"That's good, though. The more evidence the police have, the better chance of a conviction and that man spending the rest of his life in prison, hopefully being treated about the same way he treated you."

"I think that they did it to other people, too." Finn was talking to himself more then he was talking to me. "I was thinking about it this morning, when I was down here hiding from your Dad. They didn't just hurt me; they hurt other people, too. They killed them."

It was a thought that had entered my mind more then once, especially in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep. Ever since that night when Finn had first talked to me, I had known that he wasn't their first victim. I had just been way too frightened to say anything out loud, even to myself. "What makes you think that?"

Finn was quiet for what felt like forever, even though the clock said that it was only 2 minutes. Finally he came out with what he was thinking. "It's behind the computer desk."

This was one of Finn's issues. He needed to have his thoughts in perfect order before he could function properly. Unfortunately, it took him a while to get them that way, and most people weren't patient enough to wait for it. So he had developed the habit of blurting out the first thing that came to mind, just to buy himself enough time to finish thinking. I remained noncommittal. "Ok."

The clock ticked off a further four minutes and Finn took a deep breath. "There's a safe in the wall behind the computer desk. It's the kind you see in the movies, you know, like behind a painting?" He waited for me to nod before he continued. "So, Joseph has the computer desk in front of it, because it's easy to hide it that way. Sometimes, after he took pictures, he would burn them on a CD and then put them in the safe. He always made me cover my eyes when he did the combination on it, but I would peek when he put the CD in."

This wasn't the end of the story, but he gave an extra long pause anyway. My hands were clenched so tightly that my palms were starting to bleed, but I knew that any attempt to rush him would make him freeze up and refuse to continue. Still, I thought I might scream before he was able to keep going.

But he finished in the end, even if it was only with a few words. "There were a lot of CDs in there."

My vision blurred. Even though Finn had flat out told me that the Wrights fully intended to kill him, and had even taken him out to the desert to do so, the narrowness of his escape only became clear to me in this moment. I slipped a hand underneath Finn's T-shirt to touch his back, needing to feel the warmth of his skin. He was alive. No matter what else had happened to him or anyone else, he was alive. "Did you tell Officer Ready all that?"

"Uh-huh. He said that they were going to do a second search of the house." He stretched tiredly. "Maybe they moved the CDs, though."

If it had been me, I would have gotten rid of them entirely, as soon as I was back from leaving Finn on our front porch. Burn them, smash them, bury them, anything to get rid of the evidence. After all, there was no way for them to be sure that Finn wouldn't start talking the minute he saw someone familiar.

I don't know about that. They managed to scare him into total silence for almost two months. If Finn is to be believed, all Joseph told him was that he shouldn't say anything about them. No one ever said not to talk at all. Honestly, I could see where they believed that their control over Finn was absolute and unbreakable. You want to know something else? If it hadn't been for you, it might have been.

Was that true? That voice hadn't lied yet, but I'm also fully aware that the voice is entirely the product of my own brain. I wouldn't be the first person to get caught up in a little self-aggrandizing.

Of course it's true. Who did he sign to first? You. Who did he talk to first? You. Who did he tell about these pictures and CDs first? You. Finn loves you, whether he really understands what that means or not.

"They probably didn't." Finn yawned again. "Move the stuff, I mean. Joseph knew that he wouldn't get caught."

I gave him another kiss and nudged my way under the covers with him. It's always chilly in the basement, and I needed Finn to keep me warm. I snuggled into his side, amazed as always at the perfect way we fit together. "But he did get caught."

"This time. And that almost didn't happen." One long arm came and wrapped around my body, pulling me close.

"What do you mean?" I knew, of course, but I always tried to keep Finn talking as long as possible. Somewhere, in the back of my brain, was the eternal fear that I would wake up and find out that he had gone mute again. Or, worse, that he had never come back at all.

It was hard to remember that at times like this, though, with my face pressed against Finn's neck, and his heart thumping under my hand. He was focused on the ceiling, not seeming at all interested in what was happening, though I knew that it was all an act. "I almost didn't tell you what his name was. I was just going to pretend that I didn't know. Then no one would have caught him."

I sat up again, so I could look him in the face. His eyes came down to mine, barely focused. He was serious. Finn had seriously considered not telling us the name of a man that he knew to be a rapist and murderer. "How could you do that?" My voice had shot up into a pterodactyl shriek.

"Because I didn't want to!" He was yelling now, too, his temper flaring. "I didn't want to have to go to the police station, and tell them all that shit, and I didn't want to have to see the pictures, and I didn't want to have to ever think about it again! I just wanted to be able to come home and have it all be over. I'm tired of it all!"

My own inner bitch rose. "Well that's too bad! It did happen, and it's not going to be over until he's dead or in jail."

"You don't get it." Now he was wavering between angry and desperate.

I bit down on my tongue, because Finn was right. I couldn't understand what had happened, because I had never experienced anything like it, and, with even the slightest bit of luck, I never would. But how could he not understand what he was saying? By even considering not naming Joseph and Lily, he was allowing them to continue with what they were doing? Finn had been lucky enough to escape, but it was becoming increasingly clear that others hadn't been so blessed. Future victims might not be so lucky either.

But screaming at Finn only shut him down and made things worse. He was used to being yelled at by every girl he had ever dated, and I was not going to fall prey to the same trap. So I went the other way and spoke as softly as possible. "You're right, Finn. Talk to me calmly, and try to help me understand why you wouldn't want to tell us the truth."

Finn was still obviously agitated, but he did start to calm down. "I told you in the end, so why does it matter?"

I wasn't going to let him weasel out of this so easily. "It matters because it upsets you. Stress is the leading cause of both wrinkles and breakouts, you know. Now talk."

"It's humiliating. I had to tell them everything that happened. Everything. They say that they don't care, but I know that they're looking at me and wanting to know how come I didn't run when I had the chance. Then they want to keep asking about Puck, and they make me describe the whole thing over and over, and I don't want to. I know that Puck's dead, and that he's never coming back, but they don't need to rub my face in it all the time." He picked at the blanket. "It's over, but they won't let it be over."

Pity welled up in my chest. Not only was Finn hurting, but there was no way for me to make it better. I patted his shoulder. "Ok, now I understand. But can you understand where I'm coming from, too? How would you feel if you didn't say anything about them, and they hurt someone else?"

"Bad." I could tell that the thought had never crossed Finn's mind before. "But I feel bad, now, too."

"I know. But you shouldn't. The police understand why you didn't run. They were actually the ones that told us why, even before you were talking at all. And I'm sorry that they keep asking about Puck, but they have to. They have to be sure that they understand, so that we win the court case. Is that clear to you?"

"Yeah, I guess." His tone was one that I knew well. Finn understood, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "I'm just ready to move on, but no one will let me."

He was going to cry, I could tell. A part of me felt terrible for making him so miserable, when he had been so happy just 15 minutes before, but another part was pleased. Crying meant that he was coping, and acknowledging his loss. Samantha had told us over and over that it was good and healthy for him to cry, and it was especially good if he would seek comfort from one of us when he did it.

I didn't make it any easier to see, though. I reached out of Finn just as his face crumpled and he started to whimper. He pressed his face into my shoulder, hot tears soaking my pajama top. I didn't want to tell him that it was alright, because it wasn't and he would recognize the lie. So I comforted instead. "I know that you're unhappy, and I wish I could fix it. I wish it was me instead."

Do you?

Of course not! If any of this had happened to me, I don't think that I would have ever recovered. Honestly, I don't think I would have even survived. But Finn didn't need to know that, now did he?

Finn's head popped up. "I don't. I don't ever wish that it was you or anyone else."

That wasn't true either. It wasn't that I didn't think that Finn seriously wished that someone else could have been in his place; because he never liked to see anyone else suffer, but never ever? He had never sat on our couch in the middle of the night, right after he got back, scared but unable to come to one of us for help, and wished that it had been me taken? Or Mercedes, or Tina, or Mike? Or when Joseph came for him, he had never prayed that he and Puck could switch places?

But I didn't call him on it. I just rubbed his back with my free hand and told him that he was too sweet for words. Which he really was. Finn had a temper on him, yes. But he would also go out of his way to help someone, or even just to make them happy. Like with the crown that was now hanging from one of the posts of my bed. I sat up myself and looked him in the eyes. "Do you feel better?"

He shrugged flippantly. "Yeah. I mean, I didn't think about what you were saying before, about how they might have hurt someone else." Then his eyes darkened and became downcast. Do you think that they are some other parents who are out there waiting for their kid to come home? Except they won't, because they're dead?"

Yes. Whether Finn was their second victim or their 20th, I was sure that somewhere, there was an unclaimed body and a shattered family. "I hope not."

"Me, too. But hoping for something doesn't always make it happen." He yawned. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Of course" I couldn't help but add the last bit. "But sometimes hoping for something does make it happen. After all, I hoped for you, didn't I?"

He cocked his head, one corner of his mouth tucking into the half-smirk. "I hoped for a car. Or Angelina Jolie. Or a dog. So, sometimes, I guess you get what you weren't hoping for, but it's ok in the end. So, maybe it'll be ok in the end for those families, too. I mean, wouldn't you rather know if I was dead? Or would you rather keep hoping, even if I never came back?"

It was a good question, and certainly one I had asked myself many times over the four months that Finn was gone, but I couldn't answer it. "I'm glad that I don't have to make that choice."

He knew that it was a cop-out, but he smiled anyway. "Me, too. Besides there's no point in worrying about what didn't happen. Puck died, those other people probably died, and I lived. I guess it's kind of stupid to keep wondering why."

"It's not stupid to wonder." I could hear the lie in my voice, and I knew that Finn could, too. He raised one eyebrow and stared me down, asking for an explanation. "It's just hard for me to think about it. You know, losing you."

"You didn't. Well, you did, but then you found me again so it doesn't count. I'm still here, and you can't get rid of me."

"I wouldn't want to get rid of you." Finn was snuggling down again, his body warm and soft against mine, his eyes closing contentedly. I just looked at him, memorizing exactly how he looked in this moment. "I would rather give up my entire closet then give up you."

"Thanks." He held out one arm, and I tucked myself underneath it, closing my eyes and trying to release the stress of my day. It was almost midnight, and I had been awake since 3:30. I was drifting when Finn spoke again. "We're doing everything backwards."

Sometimes he chose strangest times to get chatty. I forced my eyes back open and squinted at him in the dark. "We are?"

"Yep. Usually it's asking someone out, then the first kiss, then a date, then a few more dates, and then it's sharing a bed and snuggling. We missed the asking out and the date. Oh, and the sharing a bed came before the first kiss, but I don't think that that counts."

I tickled his stomach, and he laughed a little. "You can still ask, you know."

"Maybe I will." He tickled back, one hand sliding underneath my shirt for better access.

I stiffened slightly, the same way I always did when Finn touched me. He didn't mean it sexually (well, probably not, I could never be 100% sure with him), but sometimes my body took it that way. Especially when Finn's hands started to dip a little low like they were doing right now…

"Finn!" His hand had moved without warning, hitting the bottom rib that I always tried to protect because it was so ticklish. "Quit that you cretin!"

He chuckled joyfully, and trace of his earlier sadness gone. Finn's moods have always been somewhat mercurial, and that tendency had only increased since he had been back. It was either perfectly happy or barely able to get out of bed with him, very little middle ground. This made him a joy to be around when he was goofy and happy, but not much fun when he was sulking.

Really, though, Finn's sulking moods happened less often then one would think, and far less often then he had a right to have them happen. Actually, he was more even tempered now then he had ever been Before. It made me a little sad, even though I knew that it was better in the long run.

I took advantage of his good mood to snuggle against him. "Can we go to sleep now? I love my tiara and I like my rat. Now I just want to snuggle with my boyfriend."

"Snuggling's good." We found our positions easily, like we had been doing this our entire lives instead of just a few weeks. "Oh, I forgot. Did you have a good shopping trip?"

"The best. Now sleep." I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat get slower and slower as his muscles relaxed. Once I was almost sure that he was out, I gave his neck a gentle kiss and whispered "love you, Finn."

"I know."