Once again, thank you for all of the amazing reviews. I can't believe that people are still reading this story and want to see how it ends. It's far from over, and I swear that I'm working on it.

These next few chapters are going to be particularly difficult to write. If anyone has seen One Tree Hill, you know what happens between Nathan and Haley in season 2, and it draws some interesting parallels with Finn and Rachel after Finn helps Rachel get to NYC in season 3. I think I've been mentally blocking myself, because I know that these chapters are going to be hard, and I apologize for that.

I just wanted to say it here: I know a lot of things have happened since Glee has ended—a lot had happened before it was over, honestly. Glee is still one of my favorite shows to write for, because I just think that the characters deserve so much more than what they were given in Glee's storylines. Finn Hudson especially deserved more, and so did Rachel Berry. Just about every character on that show deserved more. Maybe that isn't fair of me to say, since I stopped watching in the middle of season 4 and never started again (for obvious reason). But I'm still going to try to give them those happy endings through these stories, anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The chapter title comes from the song "Don't Take Me for Granted" by Social Distortion.


It was six thirty on Saturday morning when Rachel's cell phone rang.

She groaned and buried her head under her pillow, hoping that whoever was calling would just leave a message that she could respond to later in the day—much, much later, after she had at least three more hours of sleep and at least two cups of coffee.

Thankfully, the phone stopped ringing. Rachel let a sigh of relief puff past her lips as she settled into Finn's warm body. He was wrapped around her, with one arm slung across her waist and his legs tangled with hers. He was dead to the world, fast asleep behind her, and Rachel couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips. It never failed to amuse her that during the week, Finn was typically up before the sun rose (in order to get in a run or some weight lifting before football practice), but on the weekend, Finn was extremely difficult to wake up. Rachel was an eternal morning person, so she was always up before her alarm, no matter what. She found it hilarious that Finn's subconscious knew that on the weekends, he could afford to sleep in a few extra hours.

Still, on this particular morning, she wanted the extra few hours to sleep in. Finn had kept her up for hours the night before; first with his fingers, then his mouth, and then inside of her. Rachel was still amazed that someone could make her feel so good, so she always reveled in the way that Finn made her feel. It was some out of body experience that made her feel so grounded at the same time, and Rachel didn't think that she would ever be able to verbally describe those feelings to anyone.

Rachel let her body relax back into Finn's, and the warm lull of sleep overtook her once again. She could have sworn that somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear her phone ringing. After the third time, she flung an arm out and knocked the phone off the nightstand, where it landed in the laundry basket. Mercifully, the strains of "Defying Gravity" from the musical Wicked (her choice of ringtone) was muffled by the dirty clothes in the basket.

Hours later, Rachel finally opened her eyes and glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed. The bright red number read 10:00, and Rachel smiled sleepily and stretched lazily. The space next to her was empty, but still warm; Finn must have only gotten up recently. Sure enough, Rachel could hear the clang of pots and pans in the kitchen, and she knew that he must have been making breakfast.

Rachel took her time climbing out of bed. She pulled a pair of shorts and one of Finn's t-shirts on, and it was only after she had brushed her teeth and washed her face that she dug her phone out of the laundry basket. She frowned when she realized that she had a total of five missed calls and seven text messages from Jesse St. James. It was entirely too early to deal with whatever drama he had invented—besides, it was Saturday, which meant it was her day off. They weren't going to be starting weekend rehearsals for the spring musical until the following weekend, so Rachel had absolutely no need to respond to Jesse's contact, and she planned on taking full advantage of it.

Leaving her phone in the bedroom, Rachel shuffled out into the kitchen, where Finn was busy scrambling eggs. "I'll love you forever if you have coffee made," Rachel declared.

Finn, clad only in a pair of boxers, grinned at her over his shoulder. "I thought you already loved me forever."

He was entirely too cute, and he knew it. Rachel refused to take the bait and said, "Only if you made the coffee."

Stepping aside, Finn revealed the full pot of coffee, along with the mugs that he had pulled down from the cabinet. Rachel's favorite almond milk creamer was set up, as well, and she beamed at her husband as she pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He grinned at her and patted her backside before he turned his attention back to the eggs cooking on the frying pan.

"Have I ever told you that you're the best husband ever?" Rachel reached for her favorite mug—the one with the pineapple on the front—and began to fix her coffee the way that she liked it best. Finn bumped his hip against hers as he put the scrambled eggs onto a plate and stuck it in the oven to keep warm. He turned his attention to the pancake batter he had mixed and set aside earlier, but he still kept his side pressed to Rachel's.

It was mornings like these that were Rachel's favorite, she realized then. There was nothing particularly special about this morning—they had kept each other up for hours the night before, and now they were lazing around as they made breakfast. Even so, Rachel didn't have trouble imagining a morning exactly like this five, ten years from now, exactly as it was—except maybe with one or two kids running around.

She was young, she was in love, and everything she had ever dreamed of was still in reach. With Finn's side pressed against hers as he made pancakes and his sweet, loving smiles, it was easy to imagine that she could have it all.


Having spent the entire weekend ignoring every phone call and text message Jesse St. James sent to her, Rachel honestly wasn't that surprised when he found first thing on Monday morning.

Jesse stormed into her AP American Literature class and dragged her out, claiming that she had a meeting with Mr. Ryan about the spring musical. Rachel (having kept a meticulous schedule since the age of eleven) of course knew that she had no such meeting planned. As soon as they were out of earshot of any of her classmates, Rachel wrenched her wrist out of Jesse's grip and demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing.

"Don't you have a phone?" Jesse snapped instead of directly answering her question.

"Obviously," Rachel sniped back at him.

"Why didn't you answer any of my calls or text messages?"

"Maybe I just didn't feel like talking to you."

Instead of looking annoyed, Jesse just smirked at Rachel. "You're going to be so angry when you realized that you could have known what I know sooner, you know."

Rachel, as a self-proclaimed drama queen herself, knew exactly what Jesse was doing. He was trying to bait her, and damn it, it was working. Still, she refused to give Jesse that satisfaction. "That statement didn't make any sense," she said. She was Tutor Berry-Hudson, after all.

Jesse just ignored her. "Come on. I know you want to know."

"Does it have anything to do with the spring musical?"

"In a roundabout way."

"Jesse." This time, Rachel didn't bother to hold back her glare. "I have to go to calculus in ten minutes. Say whatever it is that you want to say and get it over with, because I don't have time for this."

Sensing the ire in Rachel's voice, Jesse dropped the act and revealed what he knew to Rachel. "Remember two weeks ago, at the Spring Fling, I told you that I sent that video of our duet out?"

Of course Rachel remembered, but she wasn't in the mood for a guessing game. "Jesse…"

"Fine, fine." Jesse held his hands up. "I got a call back. They want us for a show."

It took a full sixty seconds for Jesse's words to register. Even when they did, Rachel wasn't sure that she fully understood. "…What are you talking about?" she finally managed. "A show? What does that even mean?"

"Well, it's off-Broadway," Jesse amended. "But it's exactly what I said. It's a show. An off-Broadway show, but it's still a show. And they want us."

A million questions were bouncing around in Rachel's head, but only two words managed to squeak out of her mouth: "What show?"

"Funny Girl."

Of course, Jesse knew that Barbara Streisand was Rachel's idol—in fact, anyone who knew Rachel knew that fact to be true. An off-Broadway revival of Funny Girl was an absolute dream come true, and it was almost unreal that they wanted Rachel and Jesse for it.

Still, somewhere in the back of her mind, the practical part of Rachel shouted out about one or two—or fifty—things that Rachel needed to consider for a proposal such as this. After gaping at Jesse for a full minute and a half, Rachel finally shut her mouth and cleared her throat. She attempted to gather herself as much as she could, but instead of asking the serious questions, all that came out of her mouth was:

"Are you fucking serious?"

Jesse grinned at her, and after all those weeks ago, Rachel had to admit that Quinn was right—Jesse was cute. But he was cute in that puppy-dog, little brother kind of way. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Rachel found that she was getting herself worked up and flying high over the fact that someone actually wanted her for an off-Broadway revival for a Barbara Streisand classic.

"I wouldn't joke about this," Jesse said seriously. "This is as much a chance for me as it is for you."

Of course it was. Jesse was in college, and he was looking for opportunity as much as any other young performer in New York City. His motives in recording a duet with Rachel obviously hadn't been entirely selfless, but Rachel couldn't deny that she wouldn't have done the same thing. This was an incredibly opportunity for both of them, and they would be fools not to take it.

Still, there were so many questions. Too many things to consider. "When do rehearsals start?" Rachel asked. She couldn't believe that she was actually entertaining the idea of going to New York City and doing an off-Broadway show, but it wasn't as if an opportunity like this got dropped in her lap every day. She'd be an idiot if she didn't at least consider it.

"At the end of April. The show will run through the summer. And I know what you're going to say," Jesse added before Rachel could protest. "You have the rest of your junior year to finish. I get that. But what if I told you that I spoke to your teachers already and they said that you could finish the last month of work online?"

Rachel stared at Jesse for a long moment. Despite the ridiculousness of what he suggested, she knew that he was telling the truth. Lime High School might have been a small school in Ohio, but they were incredibly progressive. Students with all sorts of extenuating circumstances were able to finish their class work in any number of ways, allowing for a very high graduation rate in the small Ohio town.

"You already spoke to my teachers?" Rachel repeated.

Jesse sighed, and for a moment, he truly looked uncomfortable. "It's not my place, I know. But this is an incredible opportunity for you, as well as for me. Once in a life time, really. They made it clear that they wouldn't take me without you, and I needed to explore every avenue available for you, and that meant going to your teachers. You're an exemplary student, Rachel. They have no problem with letting you finish your junior year outside of Lima High School."

It was true that Rachel could easily finish her junior year through online communication with her teachers. They ran independent programs like that with other students, though they were typically seniors. Rachel knew that it wasn't outside of the realm of possibility. Still, there was one thing that it was obvious that Jesse seemed not to have considered…

"What about Finn?" Rachel asked in a clear, strong voice. Finn was her husband, and she loved him. Even at the young age of seventeen, she knew what she had promised to him, and she knew that a decision like this couldn't be made without him.

Jesse had considered Finn of course—he hadn't been lying to Rachel when he said that he had no intention of getting between a marriage, even if he didn't understand how two people so young could be married. But he wasn't quite ready to share his thoughts—and his potential solution—with Rachel about that whole situation just yet. There were still some things that needed ironing out, and Jesse needed a few days to figure out what he was going to say to Finn.

"Tell him what you want," Jesse finally said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But you should be honest with him, Rachel. Chances like this don't come along very often, especially not for someone as young as you. You better grab a hold of it when you can."


Rachel loved Finn with all her heart—almost desperately, really. She knew she was young, but she also knew that what she felt for Finn was very rare.

Her papa always said that she had an old soul, and Rachel had always wondered exactly what he meant by that. He had never fully explained it to her, but her daddy helped her understand by explaining to her that whatever she felt, she threw herself into it completely, and cared with everything in her. Rachel loved Finn in that way, and that's why it was so easy for her to decide to marry him, even though they were so young.

That night, when she walked into their small house after she was finished with rehearsal and Finn was finished with work at the garage, she knew that she couldn't tell Finn about the offer for an off-Broadway show with Jesse just yet.. There were too many unknowns, too many things to figure out. It was March, so Rachel had more than enough time to figure out what she was going to do before she had to give Jesse a final answer.

"Hey," Finn greeted with a grin over his shoulder when Rachel walked into their small house. He was grilling chicken to go with a stir fry (from a pre-approved recipe Rachel had given him) he had made earlier. "Dinner is almost ready."

Standing in the doorway of their small home, Rachel was hit with a sudden rush of love for her husband. They were so, so young, and she knew it. There were people twice her age that had absolutely no idea what they were doing with their lives, let alone who they loved. Rachel was incredibly lucky, and she knew it, on some level.

Rachel waited until Finn had removed the chicken from the grilling insert on the stove and had turned the heating elements off before she crossed the space in the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him. She stretched on to her tiptoes as she slipped a hand behind Finn's neck and pulled him down, so that his lips could meet hers easily.

Finn responded to her with no resistance at all. Dinner was all but forgotten as he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her against him. It was easy for Finn to fit Rachel into all of the space of his body, since she belonged there. He slid his one hand down her left thigh, until he hooked it around her knee and wrapped it around his waist. The move brought their bottom halves into intimate contact, and they both sighed happily at the touch.

Rachel's mind had been racing with everything Jesse had presented to her hours ago. As soon as she touched her lips to Finn's, however, her mind was blank and the only thing she wanted was Finn's hands and lips on her body. When Finn pushed up the hem of her dress with one hand and palmed her ass, it was easy to forget everything that had happened that morning.

Finn had her dress pulled over her head and thrown to the side before Rachel even realized what was happening. Clad in only her bra and panties, she pressed her body to Finn's and made a small sound of protest when her bare skin rubbed against the cotton of his t-shirt. Finn grinned and aided Rachel when her small hands began to tug the shirt over his head. With some inventive maneuvering, they managed to get his shorts and boxers pushed down at the same time.

Skin against skin, Rachel wrapped her arms around Finn and kissed him deeply, trying to pour everything she felt for him into that kiss. Finn's hands stroked down her back and then hooked under her thighs before he lifted her up, holding her tiny body against his. With her legs wrapped around his waist, they continued to exchange frantic kisses for several long moments before Finn began to walk them back towards the kitchen counter.

While it wasn't really an issue for Finn to hold Rachel against him, it was infinitely easier to touch her when he set her on the kitchen counter. He was able to settle himself between her legs as he ran his hands up her side before he cupped her breasts in his hands. Rachel threw her head back as he stroked his calloused thumbs over her nipples. As always, he marveled over the way he was able to make her respond so easily to his touch. Would it always be like this? He certainly hoped so.

Rachel arched into him, begging for more just by the response she had to him. The whimpers that fell from her lips were a clear indication as to what she wanted, as well, and Finn was more than happy to oblige. He easily parted her legs with his free hand, and stroked his fingers through her slick folds to test her readiness.

"Please, Finn," she whispered. Rachel had gotten herself so worked up between the time she had pulled up in front of their small house and when she had seen Finn cooking dinner for them, that it was no surprise she was near to bursting.

"Please what?" Finn murmured as he pressed his lips to her neck. He kissed the pulse point throbbing under his lips before he bit down, causing a gasp to escape Rachel. She threw her head back, exposing the delicate skin of her neck to Finn. He took advantage of the offering, soothing his tongue over the bite mark he had just administered moments before.

Rachel spread her legs even further and grasped at Finn's shoulders, pulling him against her. After several more heated kisses and intimate touches, Finn pressed inside of Rachel, and they both moaned at the feeling of being completed.

It was over quickly, which wasn't surprising, given how fast it had started. Their hips pressed together in tandem, their hands fluttering over one another and pressing on all of their sensitive, secret places. Rachel felt herself let go just before Finn did, and she pressed her face into his neck and held on as she rode the waves of her orgasm and held Finn through his.

It was a full hour after Rachel walked through the front door before Finn pulled back from the clasp of her body and decided to finish with their dinner. Before he stepped away from his wife fully, Finn stroked his fingers through her hair and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I love you," he murmured.

She smiled at him, her heart squeezing in her chest. "I love you, too," she told him.

Finn finished up their dinner and served it into two bowls. He grabbed forks while Rachel got their drinks, and he headed into the living room so they could sit comfortably on the couch and watch a movie while they ate.

Rachel didn't say anything when Finn picked a Marvel movie from the queue on Netflix; her mind was back on what Jesse had told her earlier that day. She twirled her fork absently through her stir fry, eating periodically and not saying much as the movie progressed.

They finished dinner, and then the movie. Finn and Rachel washed the dishes, and then they went to bed. The whole time, Rachel was trying to find the right moment to tell Finn about what Jesse had offered to her—and each time, Rachel talked herself out of telling him.

She had an excuse for every moment she almost opened her mouth: it wasn't the right time, she still wasn't sure what she was going to say to Jesse, Finn was brushing his teeth and she didn't want him to spit toothpaste all over the room if he was shocked, he was too tired and she would just wait for the morning.

That was her decision, then, Rachel had decided. She was going to tell him in the morning, and they were going to talk about it. They would figure this out together, just as they had figured everything else out.


Three days passed.

Rachel still hadn't told Finn.

It was tearing her up inside, and it was beginning to show. It took her hours to fall asleep, and when she did, she slept fitfully. She was thankful that Finn was such a deep sleeper, since he didn't notice her tossing and turning too much. Rachel was tired all the time and was pushing herself with her schoolwork and rehearsals for the musical. Even though she wasn't getting enough rest, she refused to let her work suffer. As a result, she was more stressed than ever and had begun to snap at her friends.

"What the hell is going on with you? You've been such a bitch, lately, and I'm sick of it," Santana accused after such an incident. She had asked Rachel to help her research a project she had for her English class, and Rachel had sniped that she had enough of her own to work to worry about. Santana had let a few barbs slide from Rachel for the past couple of days, but enough was enough.

Rachel glared at Santana and opened her mouth to give an angry retort, but a voice in the back of her mind reminded her that Santana hardly deserved her frustration. The glare melted off her face and Rachel nearly dissolved into tears as her shoulders slumped. She set her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands, taking deep breaths in order to calm herself down. It didn't help.

"Whoa, hey." Santana put her hand on Rachel's back and patted comfortingly as she tried to get a good look at Rachel's face. "Tutor Berry-Hudson, what's wrong? I'm sorry I called you a bitch. I didn't mean it. That much, anyway."

Santana generally wasn't one to apologize, but she hadn't really meant to call Rachel a bitch. It was obvious that something was bothering the petite brunette, but Santana had been preoccupied with what was going on in her own life and hadn't asked Rachel about why she was so upset.

They were still only seventeen years old, after all. Just because Rachel and Finn had done an incredibly adult thing and had gotten married—and had managed to remain relatively mature about the whole thing since then, which had translated over to their friends somewhat—didn't mean that they were always going to be that way. They were still teenagers, no matter what. Life was hard, and confusing, and they could hardly be expected to figure it all out so soon.

"No, I'm sorry," Rachel mumbled to the table. She looked up at Santana then, unable to believe that she was about to have a breakdown in the school library. "I've just… I've been trying to deal with something lately, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do, and I've been taking it out on you guys. I'm so sorry, Santana."

"Oh my god." Santana reached out and grabbed Rachel's arm. "You're not pregnant, are you? Because that's totally going to throw a crimp in my plans with the squad for next season, you know."

Rachel snorted and finally lifted her head from her hands to shoot another glare at Santana. "No, I'm not pregnant. I'm very consistent with my birth control, if you must know. That's not what I'm talking about."

Santana had kind of figured that Rachel wasn't pregnant, but she had been hoping to break the tension with her outlandish suggestion. Having succeeded, she said, "Tutor Berry-Hudson, you know you can tell me anything. Tell me what's wrong, and then I'll kick the ass of whoever needs an ass kicking."

A small smile lifted Rachel's lips, and she felt good knowing that Santana Lopez was in her corner. "You don't need to kick anyone's ass. But…" The smile went away, and Rachel's face was somber once again. "You can't tell Finn."

A beat of silence passed between them. Santana stared at Rachel, hard, and then nodded her head. "You can tell me anything," she repeated, because she felt like Rachel needed to hear it.

So Rachel told her everything: about the chance to be on Broadway, about the fact that she would go to New York with Jesse, about how she hadn't told Finn about it yet. More importantly, she told Santana about how she wanted to go and take the part so badly, but she didn't want to put the burden on Finn.

What were their options? Finn could come to New York City with her, of course, but then what? He would need to find a job, which would be easy enough, she was sure, but it probably wouldn't be a job that he would enjoy. She had a feeling that Finn would be miserable in New York, with nothing to do for a whole summer while she went to rehearsals and got the chance of a lifetime. He had to train with his team for the upcoming football season, besides—how else would be able to have the perfect season his senior year that would lead to him being recruited by an amazing university? That was their plan, after all. Finn would be recruited to play football in college, and then he would play for the NFL. Finn was good enough. He would make it, of that Rachel had no doubt.

Finn would stay in Lima, but Rachel knew that wouldn't be an acceptable course of action for Finn. He would insist on going to New York City with her, and they would be right back to square one: Finn would be miserable, while Rachel got to go after her dreams. That wasn't fair to Finn, and she couldn't put that on him.

"Holy shit," Santana whispered once Rachel was finished.

Rachel glared at her friend. "That's all you have to say? After all that I told you, that's it?"

Santana threw her hands into the air. "What else do you want me to say, Rachel? This is a lot to take in. You have an amazing opportunity, here."

"I know that."

"But you're married, too."

"Obviously, Santana. I haven't forgotten that fact."

"And you can't just pick up and leave to go take a part in some off-Broadway show. You have someone else in your life now to consider, to include in every decision that you make. That's what being married means."

"I know. I know all of that! But how can I give up something that I've worked my whole life for? This chance… who knows when it will come again? I can go to school, I can get my degree, I can volunteer at theaters and audition for hundreds of shows, but who knows if this will happen for me again?"

Santana took Rachel's hands and squeezed them hard, as much to comfort her as to bring her back to earth. "No one is saying that you have to give up yourself, or your dreams. That's…" Santana sighed and dragged her hands through her hair. "Look, I don't know a whole lot about being married. My parents are divorced, and I always thought… I thought that it would be a long time before I ever decided to get married. What I do know, though, is that I always figured being married was about having a partner. Someone to be there for you, no matter what, and talk through things with you and make decisions with you." She squeezed Rachel's hand again. "No matter what decision you make, you're going to have to consider Finn."

"I know," Rachel repeated. She covered her eyes with her hand, trying her best to hold back the tears that had formed but hadn't yet fallen. "I love him, Santana. I love him so much."

"I know you do," Santana said, her voice gentle. She had never expected to be in this situation, with Rachel Berry (now Hudson) confiding in her. They were friends, now, and Rachel was quite possibly one of the best friends she had ever had. Now here Santana was, giving her honest, heartfelt advice, because Rachel needed her help and was asking for it. A lot had changed in the past year or so, and it was all because of Rachel Berry-Hudson.

"He loves you, too," Santana added. "Falling in love with you was probably the best thing that's ever happened to Finn. And he knows it." She sighed, and then said the one thing that would only confuse Rachel further… but it was the thing that she needed to hear. "He loves you, and he'd want you to go after your dreams. No matter what."

Rachel bit her lip, but she said nothing. Instead, she pulled the assignment that Santana had originally approached her with towards her and scanned it. Rachel pushed her problems with Finn to the back of her mind and began to suggest internet resources and books to Santana.

Santana knew what Rachel was doing, but she let it happen anyway. Santana may not have known much about love, but she did know that Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson loved each other, and were destined to be together. That was something that they could all believe in, no matter what happened.


Two more days came and went.

Jesse asked her if she was close to making a decision. Rachel had told him that she needed more time, and from the look on his face, he knew that she hadn't told Finn yet. Rachel hated that she was so transparent, but she couldn't hide just how much the indecision was affecting her, especially when she was confronted with it directly by the people who knew.

Finn, of course, could sense that something was going on with his wife. But he knew Rachel well enough to know that she would come to him when she was ready, and he knew that he shouldn't push her. He had learned well from the time that they had gotten into their argument before Puck had ended up in the hospital, after all. He had been so kind and understanding and loving during the past five days, that it only made Rachel feel even guiltier.

Santana, naturally, knew the whole situation and had maintained her original position. She wanted Rachel to talk to Finn, but knew that it was important for Rachel to do so on her own time, and without pressure. Santana had said as much to Jesse St. James, but he had surprised her by telling her that he hadn't said much to Rachel since he had made the original proposal to her.

Jesse might not have understood why Rachel and Finn had chosen to get married so young, but he respected their relationship and their love. He had his thoughts, he had his plans, and he had his own future to consider. That future—for now, anyway—seemed to include Rachel Berry-Hudson. At that moment, he needed her to launch his own career on Broadway, and he wasn't ashamed to say that he would use that. He knew how much Rachel loved Finn, however, and he had his backup should Rachel choose not to pursue this amazing opportunity.

Puck knew that something was up with Rachel. They had been best friends since they were children, after all. He knew her as well as he knew the back of his own hand, and he could tell just how upset she was. Normally, he would badger her until she gave in and told him what was bothering her; typically, after that, he'd go kick the ass of whoever was making her feel bad, or he'd help her through the problem.

This time, however, Puck had a feeling that it was bigger than that. This wasn't some issue of a jock bullying Rachel, or her feeling bad because she had a fight with her dads. This was something else entirely, and he could wait it out until Rachel came to him. He was her best friend, after all. No matter what, she eventually came to him, just as he always did with her.

It was later that night on the fifth night that Rachel finally went to Puck. He was up on the roof of the café, and she had come armed with their favorite foods: mac and cheese for her, a cheeseburger with all the works and a side of fries for him.

Rachel had set the food aside and Puck had handed her a golf club. They had played a round of mini-golf (that Rachel had won, despite the fact that she was unusually distracted), and then they had sat down to eat.

Puck hadn't said anything to prompt Rachel; she had let it all spill out on her own, just as he had known she would. They had been five years old when Rachel had decided that she would be best friends with Noah Puckerman, after all. They knew each other very well—perhaps the only person who knew Rachel as well as Puck did was Finn. Even then, Finn knew Rachel in a different way than Puck knew Rachel. Finn was Rachel's soul mate, the other half a whole; Puck was Rachel's best friend, the person she went to no matter what was going on.

It was something that Puck could rationalize as Rachel sat there spilling her guts to him over their shared plate of French fries (no matter what, Puck always ended up splitting his fries with Rachel). He let her talk and talk and talk, until she had nothing else to say and instead twirled her fork in her cheesy pasta.

When Puck did speak, it was to say something that Rachel hadn't expected. Puck smiled at her, and said, "I'm proud of you, Berry-Hudson."

Rachel stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Finally, she said, "…What?"

"I'm proud of you," Puck repeated. "Rachel, I always knew that you'd be a star. And here you are, getting a part off-Broadway without even trying. That's… not many people can say that they've been given a chance like that."

Rachel studied him for a long moment before she finally said, "What would you have done?"

"What?" Puck shrugged his shoulders and shoved four French fries into his mouth at the same time. "What would I have done if I had been offered a part in a Broadway show?"

"Off-Broadway."

"Whatever. In an off-Broadway show?"

"Yes. Expect, no."

"Berry-Hudson." Puck gave shot her a look, a look that he had been giving to her since they were five years old. Rachel knew what the narrowing of those eyes, the lifting of those eyebrows meant. Puck was tired of her shit, and he wanted her to own up to whatever she was hedging around.

"Fine. If you were offered a spot in that football camp—"

"First down. It's called First Down, Rachel."

"Fine. First Down. If you were offered a spot in that First Down football camp, would you take it? How would you explain it to Santana? Or Quinn? Would you even want their opinion on something that you considered your dream?"

For the first time since Rachel had started talking to him, Puck shifted uncomfortably. She had asked him an unfair question, not that she realized it. His relationship with Santana and Quinn—such as it was—was entirely different from Rachel's relationship with Finn. Rachel truly loved Finn, and it was the forever kind of love, the type of love that couldn't be altered, no matter what happened. Whatever Puck felt for Quinn and Santana (while he was sure that it was love, he knew that it was very different kinds of love for the two young women), it wasn't the same as what Finn and Rachel had.

"It's not the same," Puck told Rachel truthfully. "If someone offered me a spot at First Down, I'd take it, no question. And it would probably be better for me, since I'm stuck in this mess with Quinn and Santana."

Despite the fact that Puck had been upset with Santana seeing other people, he had continued to date her—and sleep with her. When Santana was on dates with other guys, Puck would inevitably end up with Quinn. He refused to quantify what they were doing as dating; they were simply hanging out, as friends. Or at least, that's what Puck told himself.

"But… you love them. Or one of them. Or both of them." Rachel looked steadily at Puck, relieved that someone had a bigger problem than she did. "Do you love Quinn, or Santana?"

Staring down at the plate of their shared French fries, Puck said, "I don't know." He didn't know, and it was easier to admit that to the plate of fries than it was to Rachel's kind, earnest face. "I love them both, I guess. But… not in the same way."

So Rachel asked the obvious question. "Who do you love more?"

"I don't know," Puck repeated, because he didn't. The love he had for Santana was very different from the love he had for Quinn, and he didn't know which one he would quantify as more. It seemed unfair, to try to label one love as deeper than the other.

Whatever his problems were with Quinn and Santana, Puck wasn't going to let Rachel try and distract him. "What are you going to tell Finn, Rachel? More importantly, when are you going to tell him?"

"Noah…"

"Rachel. I'm serious." Rachel was his absolute best friend, and Puck would stand by her no matter what. Finn, however, was his friend as well—not only was Finn his friend, but he was Puck's brother, as well. There was a connection there, different from the one he had with Rachel. The two boys had only recently come to terms with being brothers, but it still created a connection that Puck wanted to honor.

Looking into Puck's face, Rachel seemed to understand that. She sighed and dragged her hands through her hair. "I know I have to tell him. I just don't know how."

Puck abandoned the plate of fries and went around to the other side of the picnic table. He slid into the spot next to Rachel and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. "Be honest with him," he told her. "Finn loves you. He'll understand."

No matter what happened, Puck believed that.


The advice that Santana and Puck had given her had been excellent, and Rachel had fully intended on following through with it. She had wanted to sit down with Finn and explain just what Jesse was offering, and what it meant to her, and how she wasn't going to make a decision without him.

The Friday night that she had decided to go through with her plan, Finn had barely made it through dinner before passing out on the couch. Beiste had worked them hard in their off-season practice, and Finn was still working at the garage after school. He was exhausted, and Rachel wasn't about to put her life-changing decision on him while he was like that.

Saturday morning dawned, and she had woken to find Finn's hand between her legs with his lips pressed to her neck. A voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she had so much to tell him, but Rachel pushed that voice away. Finn was making her feel good, and it was easy to forget just what she had to tell him when he was touching her like this.

So Rachel let herself drown in Finn. She ran her fingers over his skin, catalogued and memorized every way that he touched her. She got lost in the way it felt to have Finn inside of her, and she tried to remember how wonderful it felt when he made her fall apart, though she was positive that she was never going to be able to replicate the feeling.

The smile on Finn's face afterwards was so sweet and trustful, Rachel simply didn't have the heart to tell him about Jesse's offer to go to New York City. Instead, she leaned over and kissed him tenderly, sweetly, and announced that she was going to make breakfast.

Rachel had decided that pancakes sounded pretty good, so she mixed the batter and got the coffee maker started. She was just adding chocolate chips to the pancake batter when there was a knock at the door. Rachel's brow furrowed as she set the wooden mixing spoon aside and moved towards the door. Puck, Quinn, Santana, and Kurt all had keys to the guest house; anyone else who would come to visit them wouldn't bother to knock so politely. Who else would bother to visit them so early on a Saturday morning?

The absolute last person Rachel had expected to see on the other side of her door was Shelby Corcoran. And the last thing she expected her to say was, "Hey, baby girl. Your dads told me that you got married!"


Rachel was still standing at the front door, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide, when Finn finally got dressed and came in from the bedroom. He was just pulling his shirt over his head when he said, "Rach, babe, I know how you feel about meat and stuff, but I'm really in the mood for some bacon."

He stopped talking abruptly when he realized that his wife was standing in front of their open front door with an older woman that looked so much like Rachel, it was impossible to believe that they weren't related. In fact, Finn knew immediately who this woman was: she was Rachel's absentee birth mother.

Despite the fact that they were married and Finn was fairly confident that he was one of only a few people who knew Rachel Berry very well, she had only told him a few things about her birth mother and the relationship Rachel had with her. Finn knew that Shelby Corcoran had been a friend of Hiram's from college, and that she had agreed to be the surrogate for Hiram and Leroy. Finn also knew that the three of them had collectively decided that Shelby would have a place in her daughter's life—and that Shelby had never really held up her part of the bargain.

Finn didn't know a whole lot about Broadway, but he was now friends with Kurt Hummel. He had been around Kurt and Rachel on their monthly musical nights long enough to know that Shelby Corcoran was quite famous in the Broadway world—in fact, the woman had won two Tony awards. She had a lead in Rent, and then in Wicked, and despite the distance between mother and daughter, Finn knew that Rachel admired her mother very much.

Still, he was a little bit surprised when Shelby looked past Rachel and said, "So, is this the husband, then?"

Rachel was still doing her best impression of a fish as she looked between her birth mother and her husband. Her mouth repeatedly opened and closed as she swiveled her gaze back and forth, her hand still on the front door. Finn could see it in her eyes; Rachel was trying to decide if she should close the door in Shelby's face or not.

Stepping behind Rachel, Finn put his hand on the door above Rachel's, and he opened it wider. He knew that in the end, Rachel would regret slamming the door in Shelby's face, and he refused to let Shelby be the cause of Rachel feeling bad. If that meant he had to let this woman into his home for a few hours, then so be it. Finn could deal with it.

"I'm the husband," Finn answered with a winsome smile. "I'm Finn Hudson." He held his hand out for Shelby to shake, but she just stared at it disdainfully and then looked him up and down. Her expression remained unchanged, and she stepped around Finn as she entered their home.

"Hmph," Shelby huffed. Rachel was still gaping at her, but Shelby just sent her daughter a smile that wasn't exactly sincere. "Your fathers called me and told me that you were getting married, but I didn't think they were actually being serious. Otherwise, I would have shown up. If only to talk you out of going through with it."

That seemed to snap Rachel out of her surprised trance. "Shelby," she warned, her voice high-pitched but firm. She would not allow Shelby—this woman who had only been a part of her life in the most superficial of ways—to insult what she had with Finn.

"What?" Of course, Shelby was unapologetic. "I'm just saying."

The older woman took her time wandering around the guest house where Finn and Rachel had made their home. Rachel let her, because she knew that there was nothing else that could be done. Shelby Corcoran was a force to be reckoned with, and nothing—or no one—would stop her. It was better to just let her say what she wanted to say before Rachel got fed up and kicked her out. That was generally how it worked between the two of them, anyway.

"You're making pancakes?" Shelby finally asked.

Rachel was surprised. She had expected more snide comments from the woman who was supposedly her mother, but other than those few moments during her entrance, none had come. Rachel stared at Shelby, her mouth hanging open once again. Thankfully, Finn had come to the rescue.

He had seen what Rachel had been preparing for breakfast when he had made his way from the bedroom to the living room. "Yup, those are pancakes. Chocolate chip, from the looks of them."

"Excellent." Shelby clapped her hands together. "I'll cook them The two of you can just sit back and enjoy this beautiful Saturday morning."

Rachel had kept a suspicious eye on her mother after that, because there was no way that Shelby would do something as selfless as make breakfast for her daughter and her husband while she clearly didn't approve of their situation. She had even called her fathers to find out what the hell they were playing at, but neither of them had answered, those cowards.

So Rachel had been stuck while Shelby made small talk with her husband. It was kind of a relief, in a way, to try and figure out why Shelby was suddenly here, talking to Finn as if it wasn't out of the ordinary that he had married her seventeen year old daughter, instead of thinking about how she still had to tell Finn about the offer to move to New York City to take a part in an off-Broadway show.

Rachel Berry-Hudson's life was truly strange if the sudden reappearance of her absentee birth mother was easier to handle than telling Finn about the opportunity of a lifetime.

An hour after they had finished breakfast, Finn had kissed Rachel's cheek and announced that he was going on a run with Puck. They had a weight-lifting session later in the day with the rest of the team, so he would be gone for several hours. Rachel almost begged for him to stay so that she wouldn't be alone with Shelby, but she decided against it in the end. There were some things that she knew she needed to say to her mother, and there would be no better or other time to get them off her chest. As it always was where Shelby was concerned, it was now or never.

It turned out that Shelby wasn't there to berate Rachel over the fact that she had married so young. Instead, as soon as the door had shut behind Finn, Shelby asked, "Why the hell haven't you told Jesse St. James that you'll take the part in Funny Girl with him?"

Rachel's mouth dropped open, and she stared at Shelby with eyes so side, she was certain they were going to pop out of her head. In the end, all Rachel could manage was, "…What?"

"You heard me." Shelby stopped cleaning the dishes and planted her hands on the kitchen counter, across from where Rachel sat. "There are people who want you so badly for that show, they've been calling Jesse for the past two weeks, demanding to know why you haven't given them an answer yet."

Rachel knew that she was talented, of course. She believed it with everything in her, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would make it to Broadway… eventually. Still, the logical part of her mind—she was Tutor Berry-Hudson, after all—demanded to know why these people (even if they were only part of an off-Broadway show) wanted her so badly. She was only a junior high school, after all. Surely, there were more experienced people that could take the part while Rachel finished her high school career.

"Why?" Rachel demanded.

Shelby shook her head and threw the sponge she had been using into the sink. "There are producers offering you a part off-Broadway without an actual, proper audition, and you want to know why? Just take the part, Rachel!"

"But why?" Rachel repeated. If it had been anyone else, Rachel probably would have respected their opinion. But this was from the mother that had been in and out of her life for the past seventeen years. It was hard to trust even a single word that came out of Shelby's mouth. "I don't understand why these producers would want me to have the part so badly. I'm only seventeen, for god's sake!"

"So what? You're talented, Rachel! I know just how talented you are. You're my daughter, after all."

Suddenly, it all made sense to Rachel. Sure, Jesse had sent the tapes in to be reviewed and get feedback, but she believed that he truly had not expected anything to come of it. He must have been thrilled when he had gotten the call from the producers of an off-Broadway revival of Funny Girl, but Jesse had no idea that there had been someone else involved in all of this… Tony-award winning performer, Shelby Corcoran.

"Tell me, Shelby. How much money did you give them to get me the part?" When Shelby only blinked at her, Rachel continued. "It doesn't have to be the exact number. A ballpark figure would be nice, though."

Now it was Shelby's turn to play dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Rachel laughed, a little hysterically. "Of course you do. You know exactly what I'm talking about. How else would you know that I was offered the part with Jesse St. James?" She shook her head. "I'm sure that Mr. Ryan is one of her your little spies, too."

It was no use pretending; Shelby wasn't that kind of mother, and Rachel was smart enough not to fall for it. "So what if I gave those producers a little extra money to encourage them to give you the part? I saw that tape, Rachel. You and Jesse were excellent. Beyond excellent, really. The only reason those producers were so hesitant to give you the part was because you're so young. I managed to convince them that that wasn't the case." She pinned Rachel with a hard, uncompromising look. "So what's the hold up? Just take the part. Who knows where this could lead!"

Rachel sat up straighter in her chair on the opposite of the island from her mother. She gripped the counter top tightly between her fingers, if only to keep her hands occupied. She truly feared that she was going to lose what tenuous grip she had on her control and throw something if Shelby pushed her hard enough.

"I'm not… I just can't…" Rachel huffed in frustration and threw her hands up in the air. "It's not that simple! I have Finn to think about, now! I'm married! I can't just up and leave Finn to go after a part in New York!"

The words that both Santana and Puck had told her spilled out of Rachel's mouth without thought. As soon as she said them, Rachel knew they were true. She had known it all along, but now it was right in front of her face: there was no way that she could make this decision without Finn. She had to come clean, and she had to do it as soon as possible.

Shelby snorted derisively at that. "You're seventeen years old, Rachel. You couldn't possibly know what it's like to be married."

"I know what it's like more than you do!"

The words were out of Rachel's mouth before she could really think about them, and she clamped her mouth shut. Of course, Shelby didn't immediately shut down at Rachel's harsh claim—she was much too strong for that. Instead, Shelby's eyes fell upon the picture on one of the side tables in the living room.

Hiram had taken the photograph, and it was of Finn and Rachel at their intimate ceremony when they had gotten married. Their arms were wrapped around one another, and even though it had started out posed, the picture session that Hiram had insisted on had ended with Finn and Rachel laughing. They looked so happy, their smiles bright and their eyes twinkling.

There was another picture, this one from the reception that their friends had thrown for them. Quinn, Puck, Santana, and Kurt were in the picture, as well. It was another one that had started out posed, but had turned into a candid moment between the close friends.

Quinn and Santana were making faces at one another, while Kurt was between them, doing his best to pose for the perfect picture. The effect was somewhat ruined by the bunny ears Santana was holding above his head, and it was obvious that Kurt knew about them, since it was clear that he was trying very hard to hide the smile on his lips. Rachel and Finn were gazing lovingly at one another, and they were leaning in to kiss, while Puck stood just behind them, making a "yuck" face that was so comical that Rachel laughed at it every time she saw it.

"Maybe you do," Shelby finally relented. "But if that's true, don't you owe it to Finn to tell him what's going on?"

Rachel clamped her mouth shut and looked away from Shelby. No matter how she felt, no matter what resentment she held towards her mother, Rachel knew that Shelby was right: Finn deserved to know.


I don't want to leave it there, so hopefully it'll be less than a year before I update again. Thanks for reading!