I promise this is not a dream. I'm actually updating this story after TEN YEARS. I've been in a writing slump for the better part of the last decade and had pretty much given up until recently when I decided to get back to writing in general. I started brainstorming for a new writing project but I didn't feel right starting something new when I hadn't finished something I've already begun. A few weeks ago I started re-watching Glee for the first time in so, so long and I was hit with so much nostalgia and inspiration that I cranked out the below chapter in a couple of days. It's the most writing I've done since 2015 and it felt so good. I don't even know if there is even anyone out there that is still interested in this story but I'm glad I haven't given up on it.


"YOU'RE GOING ON A DATE WITH FINN HUDSON?!"

"Blaine, first of all, it's not a date. It's a work dinner. Second of all, can you please take it down several notches? My god! And that's coming from the resident drama queen herself. You scared poor Elphie!"

Blaine walks over to the cabinet in the corner and pulls out a terrified gray ragdoll cat that was hiding underneath it.

"Ohmygoodness, I'm so sorry sweet Elphie. Uncle Blaine didn't mean to scare you", he says while nuzzling her head with his nose. He then looks over at Rachel sitting on their couch. "Sorry to you too, but you can't tell me that you're essentially going on a double date with Finn, a major magazine editor, and his wife and tell me it's just a work dinner. If there were more people from the company, maybe. Besides, Kurt's told me some things here and there and he suspects a bit of a crush between the two of you." He winks at her.

"What? Absolutely not! Not in a million years. Finn is my boss, first and foremost. Our relationship is purely professional. Is he one of the most handsome men I've ever seen in person, yes, but that's just me being a human being with eyes. Everyone knows he's good looking. Especially Finn Hudson. Besides, the man annoys me to no end." She starts to walk away but then turns around. "Wait a minute, what exactly has Kurt told you about us and when is Kurt telling you these things because as far as I know, you've only spent a short time with him." She crosses her arms and looks pointedly at him.

Blaine's ears turn slightly red and he avoids her eyes.

"We text every now and then"

Rachel's brows furrow and she cocks her head to the side. "Blaine…how much longer were you two together after I left dinner the other night?"

"Not-not much longer." He stutters.

"Blaaaine…why are you wearing a turtleneck when our apartment is currently sweltering?"

"I-I-I'm a bit chilled. It's freezing outside and it's taking me a bit longer to warm up."

"You're sweating. I'm literally watching a bead of sweat form above your right eyebrow."

Rachel jumps off the couch and runs up to Blaine, immediately tugging down the collar of his turtle neck and she shrieks, startling Elphie who shoots out of Blaine's arms and dashes into Rachel's room.

"Rachel, wh-what the hell?!"

"I KNEW IT! YOU HAVE A HICKEY! YOU HOOKED UP WITH HIM!" She yells, clapping and jumping up and down like a little girl on Christmas morning.

Annoyed, Blaine pulls off his turtleneck sweater leaving him in a plain white undershirt that is soaked in sweat.

"I thought I was gonna get heat stroke with that thing on. How in the hell did you figure that out?"

"Well, as I mentioned before, I am a woman with eyes. And these eyes have seen how you look at Kurt whenever we've been around him and watched how literally everyone in the room disappears when you're near him, including myself might I add. I also glanced at your phone buzzing and saw a text message come in from Kurt that had a few heart emojis."

"Hey! No snooping through phones!"

"I didn't! It was sitting on the coffee table! I just happened to glance at it for a few seconds. By the way, I have a really good full coverage concealer that you can use to cover that up." She points to his neck. "That's ridiculously noticeable, it's the size of a silver dollar! What are you guys, teenagers?"

"We got carried away in the heat of the moment! Besides, don't make me remind you of the huge hickey you got in college that was right on your collar bone and you told everyone thought you had some kind of insane allergic reaction. What was that guy's name again? Jason?"

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Jesse. And let's not bring up that major mistake in my life, please. Both the hideous hickey that took nearly two weeks to go away and that deplorable idiot of a man. Look at me Blaine, never ever trust a straight white man that majors in musical theater."

"Got it. Anyways, yes, Kurt and I got…familiar with each other and we had a lot of fun but that's all for now. I don't want to get ahead of myself and get my hopes up. You know how I am."

She smiles at him and gives his arm a squeeze.

"I know. I can tell you really like him and I have a hunch that the feeling's mutual, but I won't push any further. Although I am fully rooting for you both! You deserve a little romance, Blainey." She kisses him on the cheek.

"Ok, ok. Thank you but enough of that, we've got to figure out your outfit for tomorrow's 'work dinner'." He aggressively air quotes with his fingers. "Did Finn tell you where you guys are going?"

She grabs her phone and scrolls to her messages. "No but he said he would text me the details. Let's see: …tomorrow 8pm…he's picking me up at 7:45…dress code is formal…and we're going to Daniel on the Upper East Side." She hears a phone drop to the floor and realizes it's Blaine's. Glancing up at his face she sees that his jaw has dropped.

"Blaine?"

He blinks really hard. "Daniel? You guys are going to Daniel?"

"Yes. Have you been?"

"No! Never have and probably never will! Are you kidding me? Rachel, that is one of the most upscale and expensive restaurants in the city! Hell, probably the whole state! A meal there starts at like $240 per person. It has two Michelin stars, Rachel. TWO. I mean, the executive chef there is Eddy Leroux who is fucking incredible, not to mention Daniel Boulud who owns it. He has like three James Beard awards and a million other recognitions. The only people I know that have gone there are the partners at my law firm and only for the utmost important occasions. Sweetie, this is a huge deal. Like, we need to raid your closet and find the perfect outfit, huge deal."

Rachel gapes at him.

"Oh my god. I had no idea you were such a foodie." She laughs.

Blaine shrugs nonchalantly. "I watch a lot of Food Network. The culinary world fascinates me. I'm serious though, this is big! This might be your once in a lifetime opportunity to dine with the mega rich at their expense. It's your Cinderella moment! Let's go find you a gorgeous dress!"

She laughs and mockingly salutes him "Yes, chef!" They both make a beeline to her closet and she pauses. "Does this mean you're my fairy godmother?"

"No, more like Gus Gus the mouse running around trying to help you out." They both giggle.


"Are you sure it's not too much, Blaine? This feels like too much. It's definitely too much. I'm taking it off."

Rachel starts to freak out and fumbles for the zipper on the back of her dress, silently cursing her cousin for picking this dress last night. She really thought that after spending half the night going through every single dress she owned (and she owned a lot) that they really landed on the perfect choice. However, standing in front of her mirror 15 hours later getting ready to wear it out in public? Now she thinks it might have been a delusional 3 a.m. decision during their endless giggle fits as they pretended to do a fashion show. Hearing her desperate pleas, Blaine runs in from the other room and immediately stops in his tracks.

"Oh my god."

"I knew it. I KNEW IT. Can you grab the zipper? My stupid tiny baby hands can't reach. Oh god, I can't breathe. I think I'm having a panic attack."

"No, no, no. Rachel. Rachel! Rach! Breathe." He places his hands on her shoulders and squeezes. "Sweetheart. You look fucking incredible. For a second I thought some random New York City socialite walked in and was posing in the mirror."

She blushes and swats his arm. "Blaine, stop it. Please don't lie. I really don't need fake reassurance tonight."

"I would never. Especially not for something you're already so nervous about."

Rachel glares at him. "I'm only nervous because you made it a big deal! I was totally fine before!"

"Oh, please. Don't tell me that behind those big ol' brown eyes, your brain wasn't doing mental gymnastics wondering if this was actually a double date or not because you have a secret little crush on your boss."

Her jaw drops, indignant. "Excuse me, I do not!" Her cheeks burning red.

"Shut your lying mouth. Can you please tell me why you are now rejecting the dress we chose after four hours of digging through your closet last night?"

"Do you mean the dress you chose? This dress was happily sitting in a garment bag hanging in the back of my closet waiting for the right moment to be worn. Which, ideally, would be on the red carpet of the first Tony Awards I have the pleasure to be invited to. Not to a work dinner with my boss and a very important client."

Blaine runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Rach, you agreed to it and were so excited last night! What changed?"

She points to the mirror. "I wore it! That's what changed. Look! It's way too much! There's literally a cut out in the middle of my abdomen! And on the sides! Do you see how low cut it is? The waiter is going to think I'm a high class escort!"

"Dear god, don't be ridiculous you high class drama queen. It is not too low cut, no offense but you're not blessed enough in the chest region to worry about low cut clothing."

She gasps.

"AND, the cut outs are small! They're tasteful and make you look incredible. Besides, the dress is a nice length and hits mid calf. It's classy. If it were a short tight fit, then yes, you'd be giving Pretty Woman vibes. But it's not. It's a nice balance of classy, modern, and sexy. If we put your hair up in a simple cute low bun, take out some thick pieces of your hair on both sides to frame your face…" He brings his fingers together and does a chef's kiss. "Finn is gonna drool over you, I promise."

She scoffs and looks down at her feet.

"The man has dated Hollywood actresses, what makes you think I would make him drool?"

"Because he's a man with eyes. And a dick." He smirks.

"You're disgusting."

"Besides," he says as he wraps an arm around her shoulders, both looking at each other in the floor length mirror. " You said it's not a date, right? It's just a work dinner? Why do you care if you make him drool or not?"

"I hate you."

Blaine goes over to her vanity and starts grabbing various hair brushes, styling products, and makeup items.

"Ok, enough with the yapping, Cinderelly. It's already almost 7pm, Finn will be here in less than an hour and you've only got 'til midnight until you turn back into a pumpkin."


Finn paces back and forth in the living room along the large window overlooking Central Park, fidgeting with his cufflinks. Normally, stuffy dinners like this would be a piece of cake. He's been dragged to a million charity events, foundation dinners, client dinners, anything in a restaurant that has way too many pieces of silverware you have to choose from. This one, however, has set his nerves off in a way he can't explain.

He tries to rationalize that it must be because he's never had a client take him out to dinner. He's being wined and dined in a sense. Right? That must be it. He made his first huge corporate decision, he's making moves, he's blazing his own trail and it's starting to pay off. He's just gotta shake off the nerves and get back to his smooth and chill vibes before he heads off to pick up Rachel. He can't be showing up like this, that's not the mood he wants to set for tonight and he doesn't want her to see him that way. He starts heading towards the wine cellar to hopefully sneak a nip of whiskey to calm his nerves when he hears the elevator doors ding, his brother waltzing in with a garment bag.

"Hellooo, handsome! Look at you! What is that, Versace? Armani?" He tries grabbing Finn's collar to take a look at the label.

"What are you doing? Stop. You're gonna mess up my hair." Finn smacks his hand away. "It's Prada if you really need to know."

"Prada? Since when do you have Prada in your closet? I shopped for almost every piece of clothing you own, except for those god forsaken flannel shirts you refuse to donate, and I don't think I've ever purchased Prada for you. For me? Absolutely. But not you."

"I had mom's shopper at Barney's grab something for me. Tonight's kind of a big deal." He says while fixing his tie.

Kurt squeezes his arm and smiles.

"It is. I know I mentioned it yesterday already but I mean it, I'm proud of you, you've definitely made some changes in the last few months and it shows. I can also tell you're a little nervous for tonight. Where's the big dinner taking place?"

"Daniel. Reservations at 8pm."

"Oh wow, he's pulling out all the stops isn't he? It's the least he could do I guess. Ooh! Before you come back home from dinner can you ask Shaun, the pastry chef, to make a Macadamia dessert to go for me and bring it home? I've been craving it for months."

"Sure. What's in the garment bag, by the way?"

Kurt makes his way to a coat closet in the foyer to hang it up.

"It's dad's suit for the MADD foundation gala next month. Please tell me you haven't forgotten about it. This is the one gala a year you have to go to, it's really important to your mom."

"Dude, I know. You know I never miss it. It's important to me too."

"You should wear that Prada suit to the gala. You really do look amazing. Which reminds me, start going through your digital rolodex to see who you're bringing with you. We ALL have to bring a date, remember?"

Finn rolls his eyes and lets out a dramatic sigh.

"Why do we have to bring a date? What's wrong with going by myself? I never have to bring one to any other event except this one. It stresses me out every year."

Kurt chuckles and makes his way to the fridge to grab himself a drink.

"It's your mom's rule, I don't know. I think she just likes the look of the family each taking someone? For optics? Who knows. I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding some bimbo to go with. Or if all else fails, you can ask Santana. She's been your date to it a few times."

Finn shrugs. "Yeah, she's a good backup. But she always ends up ditching me once we arrive to go hit on the girls I wanted to hit on. It's annoying."

"You know who you could ask?" Kurt says.

"Who?"

"Miss Rachel Berry." He grins.

Finn scoffs. "I am not taking my assistant to the gala. That's not a work event, it's personal. Besides, it'd be weird! Taking my employee? Weren't you all on my ass about dating girls who worked for us?"

"Um, correction, you were not dating those girls. You were having sex with them. Dating is different and Rachel is different. She's not a slutty bimbo. She's smart, she can actually carry a conversation, she's fun to be around, and she's cute if you look past her animal sweaters and loafers. But whatever! If you insist on pretending she's none of that, suit yourself."

"Can we please change the subject? You're starting to sound like a broken record."

Kurt huffs.

"Fine. So who else is going to dinner tonight? Are any of the other board members invited? Anyone else from the magazine?"

Finn uncharacteristically starts to stutter a bit.

"Uhhh, n-no. It-It's just me and they told me to bring, um, a date. Or not a date, uh, a plus one. Or a friend. I guess."

Kurt narrows his eyes.

"And who did you ask to be your date?"

Finn looks away and glances down at his watch.

"Rachel." He says in a low voice. "Who I need to go pick up, it's already 7:30 and I don't want to get stuck in traffic. Anyways, see ya Kurt."

As he tries to make his escape, Kurt steps in front of Finn before he can reach the elevator.

"Excuse me? You're taking Rachel? I TOLD YOU!" He jabs a finger into Finn's chest. "And you've been gaslighting me for weeks about how it's all professional and blah, blah, blah. You sneaky bastard."

"Hey! It is purely professional. She's the one who helped me figure all this shit out and deserves to be included in this dinner."

Kurt smirks. "Professional my ass. Don't think I haven't noticed you fidgeting with your cufflinks and your tie this whole time that we've been speaking. You're nervous and don't tell me it's because of the dinner. You've been to a billion of these. It's the Rachel of it all. Because you've got a crush on her. A big fat juicy crush."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"DO NOT!"

"DO TOO!"

"Oh my god! What is going on down here?!" Carole says as she comes down the stairs. "Last I knew, I haven't had bickering teenage boys in this apartment for ages. What's going on?"

Kurt points at Finn.

"Finn is taking his assistant to his fancy thank you dinner as his date and he refuses to admit that he has a crush on her!"

Carole smiles. "Oh, that's so sweet of you, Finn! I really like her. She's such a kind soul and so different from the girls you date."

"No! Mom! I'm not dating her. Kurt is just deranged and thinks I have a crush on her. Is she pretty? Yes, she is. I admit that. But that's it. I like her as a person and as an employee. Now please don't make a big deal of it. I asked her to go because obviously we worked together on this. It's only fair that she gets rewarded too. That's all. Besides, I told Kurt I'm no longer getting…involved with employees. I'm not abusing my role in the company anymore. It's not right."

Carole raises her eyebrows, impressed.

"Look at you! My baby boy is maturing!" She says, squeezing his cheek.

"Moooom."

"For what it's worth, if you do end up crushing on her," He tries to interrupt. "I said IF! If your relationship ever changes from a professional to a personal one…I approve. Now go pick up your date or you'll be late."

Finn huffs and grabs his wallet from the counter before stepping into the elevator.

"Don't forget my Macadamia dessert!" Kurt yells.

Finn just flips him off as the elevator doors close.

Kurt laughs. "Oh, he's got a big crush on her."

"Huge." Carole says as she laughs along with him.


He pulls up to Rachel's building ten minutes later and he waits outside leaning against the car to meet her. He's scrolling through Instagram when he hears someone step in front of him and lets out a soft "Hi."

He looks up and his jaw drops immediately, forgetting how to breathe for a second.

"H-Hi".

In front of him is Rachel, not in a plaid skirt, frilly sweater, colored tights, or wearing a headband. Instead, she is wearing a long black dress with thick shoulder straps and deep V neckline that ends right between her breasts. A narrow triangle cut out below her chest shows off her creamy skin and for a second he wonders what it would feel like if he traces a finger along the edge of it. On any other girl it might look a little slutty but on Rachel and her petite body, she makes it look elegant. Her voice interrupts his thoughts and brings him back to reality.

"Do I look ridiculous? I've never been to such a fancy restaurant. I don't know if I'm trying too hard." She says as she wrings her hands.

"N-no. Not at all. You look…incredible, Rachel. Seriously. You'll fit right in."

She blushes. "You clean up really well too."

They stare at each other a little longer until the passenger winder lowers slightly and Frank clears his throat.

"Reservation is in eight minutes, Mr. Hudson."

Finn curses. "Shit. Sorry." He opens the door for Rachel, closing it for her then sprinting towards the other side, hopping in.

As they make their way uptown, he glances down at her slightly shaking hands that are playing with the strap on her purse.

"Nervous?"

"A little." She smiles meekly.

He raises his eyebrows and looks pointedly at her hands.

"Ok. A lot. Like, so incredibly nervous. God, Finn. I've never gone to a restaurant fancier than Breadstix. Blaine googled Daniel to show me pictures of what it looked like inside and I swear one of the pictures had Meryl Streep in the background."

"What's Breadstix?"

"It's an Italian restaurant back in Ohio, it's like Olive Garden. But worse."

He scrunches his nose. "Gross. You don't have to be nervous though, trust me. I've been to Daniel a few times and if you don't think about it, it's like any other restaurant. A restaurant with some snobby diners but it'll be great. We'll drink lots of champagne or wine to ease our nerves." He smiles.

"Our nerves? You're nervous too?"

"A little. I've never been like the 'guest of honor' for one of these dinners. It's a first for me."

Rachel reaches over and puts her hand on his forearm, squeezing lightly. "You deserve it."

"You do too." He says softly.

She leaves her hand there a few moments longer than is probably appropriate when Frank pulls over in front of the restaurant and they both snap out of their inner thoughts. Finn gets out and opens the door for Rachel. He steps next to her to offer his arm and she loops hers through it. Lightly gripping his bicep in anticipation.

"Ok, you ready?" He says to her as they walk inside and are greeted by the hostess.

Rachel takes a deep breath. "Not really, but that's ok. At least I'm not alone." She looks up at him and smiles.

"Nope. We're in this together."

As they're led into the dining room to their table he spots the magazine editor and waves. He feels Rachel grip his arm harder. He places a hand on top of hers and squeezes it reassuringly.

They've got this.


After three glasses of champagne and 5 courses of the most delicious food she's ever had, Rachel sits back in her chair and smiles. The dinner has not been the stuffy and snobby disaster she was expecting. Charles Williams, the editor in chief of GQ, and his wife Deborah were actually really great company and knew how to keep the conversation flowing. There were moments in the conversation where Deborah had her in stitches telling them stories of growing up on her family's farm in Nebraska. Charles also had some great tales all about when he was a young freelance writer begging every magazine in the city to hire him and the things he did to get himself into the rooms he dreamed of being in.

"Oh my goodness, Charles. I can't believe you actually pretended to be a delivery man just to get your article on Anna Wintour's desk. I'm surprised you weren't caught!" Rachel laughs as she takes another sip of champagne.

"I almost was! One of her assistants was eyeing me suspiciously. I could tell she was about to call security but I ran the hell out of there before she had the chance. But you know what? It kind of worked. I got an email from one of her editor's assistant's assistant. Which, in the Vogue world, is a huge deal. It didn't exactly get my foot in the door, but it got my toe in." He laughs and then checks his watch.

"Damn. Well, I wish we could keep this night going but we've got a babysitter with the kids back home and she has a strict 10:30pm deadline and if we don't make it back in time she will not stop bitching about it."

His wife playfully hits his arm. "Charles! That's your niece you're talking about!"

"I know! I'm allowed to say she can be bitchy!" The table laughs.

"But please, just because we gotta go home doesn't mean you two do. Feel free to stay and get dessert or another bottle or anything else you want. I insist."

They all stand to say their goodbyes. Deborah gives Rachel a hug. "We should get together sometime for lunch soon! I love trading war stories of other New York transplants, especially us mid-westerners." She smiles.

"I would love that, Deborah. Thank you."

Charles takes his wife's hand and says a final goodbye. "I'll see you two soon, it's been a pleasure! Finn, I take it I'll see you at your mother's gala next month?"

"Yes, sir. I'll see you there."

"And how about you, Rachel? Will we see you there too?"

Rachel glances at Finn confusedly. "Umm, maybe? I don't know."

Charles looks over at Finn. "Don't wait too long to ask your date, son." He winks. "Have a great rest of your night, kids." He walks off with his wife in tow.

Finn and Rachel both sit back down and look at each other for several seconds beaming at each other, processing the last couple of hours.

"Oh. My. God. Finn! That went so well! Oh my gosh! I mean, for the first 5 minutes I thought I might throw up but, wow, they really were so great. Oh, and I used the right forks and everything!"

"You did great." Finn laughs. "They both loved you too. I told you that you'd fit right in. You had nothing to worry about."

"You were great too. I haven't seen you in professional "shmoozing" mode and you are very charming, Mr. Hudson." She teases.

His cheeks turn bright pink.

"Ok, ok, ok. We both did great. I think we deserve another bottle or two on Charles' dime, yes?" She nods in agreement. He gets the waiter's attention and lifts his glass.


The bottle of Dom Perignon turns into three and Finn and Rachel quickly get very comfortable, laughing and talking about embarrassing college and high school stories. Rachel even feels bold enough to tell him about when she dressed like Britney Spears for a whole week for a glee club assignment.

He bursts out laughing. "You wore the Baby One More Time Look? No way. I don't believe it."

"I did! It was mostly to prove a point to my boyfriend at the time but I pulled it off well if I do say so myself."

"What point were you trying to prove? That you could get a dress code violation at school?" He jokes.

"No! It was to prove that I had sex appeal. I think it's easy to believe that my style in high school was not on trend with what everyone else was wearing so girls were not always very kind about it. Some of the girls in the club said I wasn't fit to perform Britney songs because I had the sex appeal of a toddler so of course I had to prove them wrong."

"You didn't need to dress like a slutty school girl to prove you have sex appeal. You look good even while wearing a sweater with a giant reindeer on it. Your glee club was full of idiots, especially your boyfriend. He's the bigger fucking idiot."

Rachel blushes.

"You're probably right. He did think he saw Jesus in a grilled cheese sandwich once."

"You're fucking joking."

She starts to laugh even harder and doubles over. "I swear to god. For like a week he kept praying to it. He even prayed asking for me to let him touch my boobs, which I did, but it was pure coincidence!"

Now it was Finn's turn to double over in laughter. He's almost wheezing and struggles to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, but you dated this guy for how long?"

"Three years, off and on. Hey, stop laughing! He was a really sweet guy." She says, stifling her own laugh.

Finn wipes tears from his eyes and finally calms down.

"Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't be talking since I don't have a stellar track record with my ex-girlfriends either."

"What, is Emma Roberts not all she's cracked up to be?" Rachel jokes.

"I never dated her. Or nearly all the girls the magazines claim I dated. I've actually only had two girlfriends, believe it or not. There was Quinn in high school, who cheated on me with my best friend, then there was Santana in college, who a year and a half into dating me realized she was in love with her roommate, Britney."

"Oh my god!"

"Yeah, I told you I have no room to make fun of you."

"So all those other girls were just hookups?"

"Some of them. For the most part they're just friends or acquaintances. You can't believe everything you read in the tabloids. They're just trying to sell papers or get clicks online."

"How about those interns or short lived secretaries at the publishing house?"

His eyes widen.

"You heard about those?"

She laughs. "Sugar is the keeper of all that goes on in that building."

"Of course she is." He says, taking a large gulp out of his glass. "For the record, that hasn't happened in a while. I'm trying to turn a new leaf here."

"I know."

They hold each others gaze for a few seconds for the third time that night until Rachel clears her throat and finishes off her champagne.

"So Charles mentioned a gala next month. Is it a company thing or your family's?"

Finn's ears burn red. Rachel is starting to think that it makes him look kind of endearing.

"There's a big gala my mom hosts every year to raise money for Mothers Against Drunk Driving. It's in honor of my dad. She really goes all out with it and it's become this huge event in the city. Every year they make a big deal about me bringing a date." He flushes. "Anyways, do you want more champagne? Or wine? Or some dessert? Shit, don't let me forget to get a message over to the pastry chef about getting something to go for Kurt. He will kill me if I forget and I don't need to give him another reason to do that."

Noticing that he's desperately trying to change the subject Rachel agrees to order another bottle. After sitting in silence for a couple minutes, she tries to breach the subject again, feeling emboldened by the alcohol.

"Is that how your dad died? A drunk driving accident?"

"Yeah." He clears his throat before continuing. "He was headed back home from Cornell, he gave a speech at some alumni event there and normally he would stay the night when he had those kinds of work engagements but he figured it was close enough to the city and didn't mind the long drive." He paused, taking a moment. "I had a little league game the next morning and he didn't want to miss it."

"Oh, Finn." Rachel places a hand on his.

"My mom got the call in the middle of the night. Some asshole was rip roaring drunk and blew past a red light going 90 miles an hour, t-boning the car my dad was in. He didn't stand a chance, the paramedics said he died immediately. I was still asleep so I didn't find out until the morning. One minute I went to bed, a normal 12 year old, nervous about the baseball game he had and the next minute I woke up, my whole world changed. After that, things got kind of crazy. I was really young so I didn't realize how wealthy and important my family was until that moment. Not until we couldn't leave our apartment building without being photographed and reporters trying to get statements from my mom. I'd go to school and kids would whisper. There was even one jackass reporter that pretended to be a janitor just to get pictures of me in class. It was insane."

"That's absolutely deplorable. That's so much for a young child to go through." Rachel says, squeezing his hand. "I really hope that you don't blame yourself for it, Finn. Thinking he died because he wanted to make it to your baseball game. That's an awful thing to carry with you."

Without thinking he laces his fingers through hers.

"Nah. I mean, I did at first. For maybe the first year or so, but my mom got me into therapy pretty much right away and I was able to work through all the grief and stuff. We both did. My therapist was great and she really hammered that way of thinking out of me."

"I'm glad. You and your mom really seem to be a great team, getting through all of that together. You've turned out to be a great man despite the circumstances."

He chuckles.

"I wasn't always a great man. That's only over the last few months. I was a real shit head for a while there. Yeah, the therapy helped a lot and my mom has the heart of an angel and her patience knows no bounds with me, but I was a bit of a nightmare for a while. I'm sure you could google my name and find a handful of awful paragraphs written about my antics in local tabloids."

Rachel smiles sheepishly.

"I have." He raises his eyebrows in shock. "I'm sorry! I couldn't help it! This was when I was preparing for my first day at work and I wanted to be informed about who I was working for. It was purely educational research!"

He laughs and squeezes her hand. Neither of them acknowledging the intimate placement of their hands.

"It's ok. It'd be weird if you weren't curious. Besides, it was all self destructive. I was trying to avoid my responsibilities and like an idiot I thought that by self sabotaging it would somehow make people think I wasn't the right person for the job. Know what I mean?" He lets out a laugh. "Maybe I shouldn't have quit therapy so early on, I might've avoided that phase in my life."

"What changed?"

He looks at her quizzically.

"What do you mean?"

"What made you turn things around? I mean, you were still kind of acting like an idiot after you took over the new position. At least according to Page Six a few months ago."

He looks down at his champagne glass. It might've been the fact that he was on his seventh glass (or was it eighth?), as well as a dram of whisky that he drank with Charles, but he almost couldn't help saying his answer.

"You."

Rachel looks at him in surprise.

"Me?"

He looks into her deep brown eyes.

"Yeah. You take no prisoners, Rach. As soon as you started your job, you did not show any mercy and weren't afraid to say what no one else had the balls to say to me. You also didn't even try to pretend to need help in the copy room so that I'd have sex with you."

She looks at him indignantly.

"I would never!"

He laughs.

"I know! I'm just saying, there were others that did. Not that I think every girl wants to sleep with me. I'm not that egotistical, even though the New York Post would say otherwise. But you were there for all the right reasons and helped me realize that I have a lot to offer. And that I can handle this new job. Make my dad proud." He looks down at his glass again, spinning it around with his other hand.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad the universe put me in that restaurant with Blaine and I was able to meet Kurt which put all this in motion. Now, fast forward 4 months, and I'm sitting in the fanciest restaurant in the city, drinking champagne that I'm too afraid to ask how much it costs, and sitting with the person Page Six calls 'Manhattan's Most Promiscuous Bachelor'." She laughs.

"Hey!" He smiles. "That was like a year ago. I'm not that slutty anymore." He finishes off his champagne.

"What do you say we grab this still half full bottle of champagne and go get a churro?" Finn asks.

She gulps down the rest of the champagne remaining in her glass and slams it onto the table. "Let's do it!"

They grab their things, both more than tipsy after a few bottles of champagne. Finn stuffs the bottle into his jacket and they start to walk out of the dining room.

"Oh! Finn! Kurt's dessert!"

"Oh shit. Thanks." He runs over to the kitchen door and pops his head in, scanning the room for just the man he's looking for. "Shaun! Hey! Shaun! It's Finn!." A tall bald man walks over to the doorway, enveloping Finn in a bear hug.

"Hey, Huddy! What's up, man! I didn't know you were here tonight, you should've texted me."

"Sorry, dude. Hey, can you do me a huge ass favor and whip up one of those Macadamia desserts for me to go? Like asap? It's for Kurt and it's the one thing I promised him tonight."

"Yeah! For sure! I'll get that out in a few minutes. Hang tight."

Rachel and Finn wait out in the foyer laughing at the other's slightly drunken attempts at trying to sneak sips of their bottle of champagne until the pastry chef returned moments later with a paper bag.

"Here you go, Huddy. Tell your parents and Kurt I say hello. Oh! And tell your mom to check her email. I sent her the dessert options for the gala and I just need her approval before finalizing it."

"Will do man, thank you!"

After saying his goodbye, Finn turns around and sees Rachel patiently waiting at the door for him, swaying on her feet to whatever song is playing throughout the restaurant. He pauses for a moment and just watches her, quietly singing along and dancing. It might be the alcohol but he suddenly has the urge to walk over, grab her by the waist and sway along with her. Maybe lightly stroke the skin peeking out of the cutouts that sit right where his hands would be. Maybe cup her cheek with his hand and tilt her head up so he can get a good look at those gorgeous brown eyes and her ridiculously long lashes.

"Finn!"

He's ripped out of his thoughts and didn't even realize Rachel was now standing right in front of him.

"You ok? You kinda looked like a video game character just standing in one spot." She jokes.

"Oh, sorry." He flushes. "I think I had one too many glasses of champagne."

"Honestly, me too." They both giggle.

"Oh! I just remembered what I was going to say. Do you know what sounds sooo good right now?" Her eyes wide and glassy. He swears she looks like a Disney princess.

"What?"

"Ice cream. A big ol' scoop of chocolate, no, vanilla. No! Strawberry! With actual pieces of strawberries!"

He laughs extra hard and loops her arm through his, making their way out of the restaurant. Frank is already parked out front and opens the door for them.

"Frank!" Finn says, a little too loudly. "Before we head to Rachel's place, can you take us to Van Leeuwen's on 10th? The lady needs her ice cream!"

"I'm the lady!" She says, giggling, as she hops into the car.

Frank chuckles and makes his way around to the driver's seat. "As you wish, my lady."


Twenty minutes later, Finn and Rachel are sitting on a park bench enjoying their ice cream cones a couple blocks away from her apartment. Frank leans against the trunk of the car nearby, happily enjoying his own sweet treat.

"You know, I've been a vegan since I was seven years old." Rachel says, licking at a drop of ice cream making its way over the edge of her waffle cone. "I accidentally watched a Youtube video of a chicken farm that gave me nightmares for two weeks straight. My dads had to move our therapist into the guest bedroom for a while."

Finn chuckles, not so much at what she said but more at her attempt to save her melting dessert.

"Oh really?"

Then he stops for a second.

"But this is…not vegan."

She pouts, "I know. That's why this is one of my deepest secrets. In the back of my freezer I always have a pint of ice cream stashed away that I sneak whenever Blaine isn't home." She looks at Finn wide eyed, panicking all of a sudden. "Please don't tell him! Or Kurt! Or PETA! No one can know."

He knows she's genuinely nervous so he tries as hard as he can to not laugh.

"I won't, I swear."

"Pinky promise?", she reaches out her tiny little finger.

He hooks his comically large pinky with hers.

"Pinky promise."

In the blink of an eye, she's back to happily eating her ice cream and she's sitting pressed up against him. Finn wonders if she's been sitting this close the whole time.

"Oh my god, Finn. Did you swallow your ice cream whole? How are you done with it already?"

"What? It's not my fault you eat at the speed of a snail. That's why it's melting all over your hands." He points out, laughing. He grabs the small stack of napkins he had grabbed from the ice cream shop and helps her clean up. "Here, why don't I take what's left of this poor cone and throw it away before the rats come out from behind the bushes to finish off what you dripped all over the ground."

Rachel shoots up from the bench. "RATS! Oh my god, throw it away, Finn! Throw it away!"

She takes some wet wipes and hand sanitizer from her purse to clean her sticky hands and does the same for Finn when he returns from the garbage can.

"Thanks. Ready to walk you home?"

She sighs and pouts a little.

"No, but we should. It's getting late." She loops her arm through his and she turns to wave goodbye to Frank.

"Bye Frankie! Thanks for the ride! Love you!"

Frank chuckles and shouts back, "Goodnight, Miss Rachel!"

Finn waves at him as well. "I'll be back in a few, Frank! Just gonna walk her home!"

They make their way down the street in relative silence, enjoying each other's presence. Finn almost feels like he's walking her home from a date, a really great date if he does say so himself. He knows it's not but he hasn't had such a great night with a girl since…ever. Like, he feels all warm and fuzzy and he hasn't even kissed her or anything. Did the alcohol contribute to the feeling? Sure, but he swears that even if he hadn't been drinking he would still have the same feeling. There's just something about sitting with Rachel for hours just talking about the most random things and getting to know each other that really feels like he's unlocked some kind of new emotion in him. But that's crazy, right? He chalks it up to not having been on a date in a while. And all the champagne. That's what it is. It has to be.

They arrive at Rachel's building and Finn insists on walking her to her door.

"What if some crazy psycho follows you inside right when I turn the corner? Or a stalker neighbor sees you in that dress when you're walking down the hallway and ambushes you right when you open your front door?"

Rachel starts to laugh at Finn's very seriously concerned face.

"Oh wow, I think we've been spending too much time together. My dramatic antics are rubbing off on you." She giggles.

"I'm not being dramatic! It happens! I've seen Law & Order SVU."

"You do know I've managed to get myself home safely in this city for the last four years, right?" When she sees that he is making no effort to leave she playfully groans.

"Fine." she says, pulling his arm towards her building. "Escort me to my apartment, Mr. Drama Queen."

He grins.


"Why didn't you mention that you live on the FIFTH floor of a walkup?" Finn says, gasping for breath when they finally reach her floor.

"Oh excuse me, we can't all live in a building with elevators that open into our apartment." She teases, taking out her keys from her purse. "Don't worry, my door is right around the corner."

They reach apartment 5E and Finn glances down at her doormat, reading it out loud.

"Welcome, I Hope You Like Musicals"

Rachel blushes. "My dads got it for us as a housewarming present."

He laughs. "I love it. It's very you."

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, thank you for the lovely night. I had a lot of fun, even though it started out so nerve wracking. And thank you for walking me up those treacherous five flights of stairs that I would've barely survived with all the serial killers and stalkers in my building." She jokes.

"Hey! I'm just being a gentleman! Just one look at how hot you look in that dress and a crazy person would want to kidnap you or worse."

Rachel's cheeks burn red and she looks at her feet. "You think I look hot?"

He shoves his hands in his pockets. "To put it simply. Gorgeous would actually be a more fitting word, honestly. I'm a man with eyes after all." He smiles.

She tilts her head up to look at him and grins from ear to ear.

He reaches out and puts his thumb to the corner of her mouth. "You've got a little bit of ice cream on the edge of your lip."

It's almost like something takes over his body but suddenly he feels his head lean down and places his lips right on her bottom lip where his thumb was. He feels Rachel stiffen in shock and for a second he thinks he has made the biggest mistake of his dumb stupid life. He sees flashes of Rachel reporting him to HR, a huge sexual harassment suit filed against him, newspaper headlines announcing that he's been fired, and his family distancing themselves from him. But then he feels a hand cupping the back of his neck and Rachel's lips don't feel stiff anymore. No. They're soft, so incredibly soft, they open slightly, her tongue tracing the edge of his lip. And god, she tastes like strawberry ice cream. He thinks that for the rest of his life he will always think of Rachel and her lips whenever he sees that flavor.

The sound of one of Rachel's neighbors climbing up the stairs brings them back to reality and Finn quickly sobers up, stepping back.

"Shit. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"It-it's okay, Finn."

"No, It's not. I've had a lot to drink tonight and so have you. Yeah, it was a great kiss that made me forget where I was for a moment, but I crossed a line and I'm sorry. Tonight was a work date, not like an actual date. I shouldn't be blurring the lines."

Rachel clears her throat and instead of looking Finn in the eyes she looks at his tie.

"You're right. I think all that champagne went right to our heads. I mean, I had ice cream in front of someone for the first time in 15 years for goodness sake." She laughs nervously, breaking the tension between them slightly.

"Okay, so it's agreed then. We won't drink four bottles of champagne together ever again and I won't embarrass myself kissing you like that again." He says, taking a deep breath. Rachel smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She inserts her key into her apartment door and turns toward Finn before entering.

"Sounds good. But for what it's worth," She finally looks him in the eyes. "You shouldn't be embarrassed. I thought the kiss was great. Have a great weekend, Finn. See you Monday morning." She smiles, enters her apartment, and closes the door.

Finn is left speechless, staring at her front door. "Holy shit."

Inside, Rachel stands with her back pressed against the door, her heart racing. She whispers to herself, "Holy shit."