Author's Note: Ficlet set after Make It Harder To Be Near You and before Dreaming While I Drove (ficlet) and A Feline Casanova.

Wash Away What's Past

The rain can't hurt me now.
This rain will wash away what's past.
~A Little Fall Of Rain, Les Misérables

He doesn't usually pay attention to the musicals that travel through the Kimmel Center. As an athletic trainer on the staff of the Philadelphia Eagles, he's far more concerned with the teams that travel into Lincoln Financial Field. Matt Rutherford's days of singing and dancing are far, far behind him, but that doesn't stop his eyes from catching on a familiar name in the entertainment section of the local newspaper. (So sue him for reading it once in a while after he finishes the sports pages.)

Rachel Berry just isn't someone you can easily forget, no matter how much you might want to. He remembers the little girl with the huge voice—and that fine ass in the those tiny skirts that she'd favored and those little red, booty shorts she'd worn that one time in glee. Hey, he's a guy, after all.

He smiles when he sees her name mentioned in the small article about Les Misérables, happy to find out that she'd made it out of Lima and onto a Broadway stage—well, a touring stage anyway. Curiosity is what has him grabbing his laptop to check out the show schedule and ticket prices, but it's the sudden, inspired idea to surprise his girlfriend, Denise, with tickets and create a nice, romantic date night that has him making the impulsive purchase.

He tells Denise about Rachel Berry when he tells her about the tickets. It's not a big deal or some secretive thing—just the chance to watch an old acquaintance make good. Denise thinks he's sweet for wanting to go see his old classmate, and, "I've always wanted to see Les Mis," she tells him with a smile, so he puts on his best suit and escorts his girl out for a night on the town—dinner and then the show.

The seats are in the balcony, so they're not close enough to the stage to see every expression on everyone's faces, but there's no mistaking Rachel Berry's voice for anyone else. She's even better than Matt had remembered, but nobody told him how fucking depressing the show would be, or that Rachel's character would end up dead. Denise hands him a tissue as she cries into her own, and Matt takes it quickly, trying to look as manly as possible as he wipes the moisture from his face.

"We should go wait at the stage door," Denise tells him after the show. "I've always wanted to do that."

"I don't know," he hedges. He'd only really known Rachel for a year when he was seventeen, and he'd never really talked to her much—even if they had danced together a few times. "Rachel probably won't even remember me."

"Come on," she urges. "It'll be fun."

So they walk around the Kimmel Center until they find a little crowd standing outside an unmarked door. "Excuse me. Are you all waiting for the cast?" Denise asks a woman at the back.

"Yes. They should be coming out soon," she tells them politely before returning her attention to the door.

Matt and Denise wait in the back of the crowd, and Denise still has her program between her hands and ready to be signed like most of the other people around them. The door opens a few minutes later, and everyone claps and cheers as the actors spill out. Matt cranes his neck and looks over their heads, scanning their faces for Rachel Berry. Even though he hadn't really gotten a good look at her face when she was on stage, there's no possibility of mistaking her for anyone else when his eyes finally find her—and maturity has certainly been very kind to her.

He watches Rachel smile and chat a few moments with every person as she makes her way down the line, signing autographs and getting closer and closer to them with every step until she's finally in front of them. Denise holds out her program for Rachel to take, and she elbows Matt lightly in his ribs when Rachel asks, "Who should I make it out to?"

"Um….Matt and Denise," he tells her softly.

Rachel grins, signing the program before she glances up, and her eyes flash with recognition a few seconds after they land on him. "Matt?" she asks in surprise. "Matt Rutherford?"

He chuckles, impressed that she remembers him. "Yeah."

"Oh, my God!" she squeals, throwing her arms around him unexpectedly and squeezing him tight. "I haven't seen you in so long." She lets him go with a megawatt smile. "You disappeared into thin air after sophomore year."

Matt shrugs. "My family moved."

"You look so good," she compliments before her eyes dart to Denise. "I'm sorry. I'm Rachel Berry," she introduces herself with a friendly smile, as if she hadn't just starred in a musical and signed an autograph for the both of them. "Matt and I went to high school together for two years."

"I know," Denise tells her. "He told me."

Rachel glances around at the rest of the dwindling crowd with a mild frown. "Hey, would you both hang around for a few minutes? I'd love catch up if you have some time. We could go have a coffee or dessert…my treat," she offers hopefully.

"That would be nice," Denise answers, smiling at Matt. "I'd love to hear what this one was like back then."

Rachel laughs and says, "Very quiet," and Matt ducks his head in embarrassment. "We hardly even knew he was there most of the time, but we certainly missed him when he was gone," she muses kindly. "I'll be right back," she promises, quickly moving on to the next person awaiting an autograph.

Matt and Denise step out of the way, waiting just down the block while they watch the crowd gradually dissipate until the only people left are them, Rachel, and a blonde woman that Rachel is chatting with as she pockets her gold marker. Matt frowns a little when they both start to walk in their direction—the blonde is smiling at him, and she starts to look more and more familiar the closer she comes. She almost looks like—but that's the last person she could be—except—

"Holy shit," he exclaims out loud, ignoring the back of Denise's hand connecting with his stomach in silent chastisement. But his eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open, because it is her. The short hair and the friendly smile had thrown him, but it's definitely, "Quinn Fabray," he breathes out in awe.

Quinn chuckles. "Hi, Matt."

"I guess you remember Quinn," Rachel says with a smile as her palm fits comfortably into Quinn's hand. Matt doesn't miss the easy familiarity of the action, but it won't quite click in his mind. Cheerio Quinn Fabray is standing in front of him holding Rachel Berry's hand—her mortal enemy. And they're not fighting. In fact, with soft smiles and postures speaking of quiet intimacy, they are so far from fighting.

"Um…yeah…you look…really good," he stutters. Denise tucks her hand into his elbow and clears her throat, snapping out of his stupor. "Oh, this is my girlfriend, Denise. Denise, this is Quinn. We…um…also went to high school together. With Rachel," he adds unnecessarily.

"It's nice to meet you," Quinn says politely, holding out the hand that isn't linked with Rachel's for Denise to shake.

"What are you doing in Philadelphia?" Matt asks Quinn stupidly.

A secretive smile curves Quinn's lips, and she gazes lovingly at Rachel, who returns the look with her own heart in her eyes as she practically melts into Quinn's side. "Oh, Matt. We really do have a lot catch up on," Rachel murmurs happily.

When what he's seeing finally clicks, Matt can't help feeling like that's the understatement of the century. Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray are together. Like, together together. Like being all coupley right in front of him. Suddenly, he can't wait to sit down somewhere and find out just how in the hell this happened, because he has a feeling it's going to be far more entertaining than the show.