SUGAR AND SPICE AND EVERYTHING NICE

A/N - for a friend of a friend who needed a little something SUGARY & fluffy today – and bc happy birthday to me =)

. . . . .

He's turning five today! FIVE! His birthday is in the summer right before school starts (ew, don't remind him) but he isn't thinking about that. He's thinking about how awesome his Power Rangers-themed party is gonna be and how jealous Noah's gonna get when he sees how cool his party is.

Or at least it WAS gonna be the greatest, coolest party ever, until he found out that girl Rachel from down the street was coming.

It's not that he doesn't like her (well okay, except for the obvious reasons, like she's a girl and probably has MAJOR cooties or whatever) but she's just so... Rachel-y. Like, she's loud and talks too much and sings weird songs about... well he doesn't know what they're about because they're from these weird plays he's never heard of. And when his mom invites her and she gives him a present wrapped in gold star wrapping paper and it turns out to be the pink freakin' Power Ranger action figure, he just looks at her like she's an alien from another planet – because it's PINK!

I mean yeah, it's a Power Ranger and okay, it's from the collector's series special limited edition release of action figures, but not one of the cool ones. It's PINK for crying out loud!

Girls just don't know anything, do they?

. . . . .

She's having a weird Jewish party for girls who turn thirteen. He doesn't remember the name of it (it's just that something about being Jewish means she gets fancy parties with special names in a language he doesn't know and he wonders why that is). All he remembers is it's something to do with bats, which he randomly thinks makes perfect sense because she's pretty chick-batty. Then he dismisses out of hand immediately the idea that it could be a cool Batman-themed party because Rachel is so NOT into anything even remotely cool. But then he randomly thinks that could be a totally awesome theme for his next party and wonders if he should go with the Keaton or Clooney version if he were to dress up – which of course he totally wouldn't because he's getting too old for that now, but still, if he WERE gonna dress up, Batman would be a solid choice (he'd probably go with the Keaton version – although he's waiting for the entire Dark Knight Trilogy to come out to see if this Christian dude has a better version than the aforementioned legends).

Anyway – setting random bat themes aside, his mom is friends with her dads and he is FORCED to wear a stupid button-up shirt with an even more stupid PINK TIE and go to this crazy chick-batty Jewish birthday party. Okay the tie is just a clip on and there's free cake involved, but that isn't the point. The point is, this is a CHICK party with a DRESS CODE and thanks to Rachel's over-the-top crazy Rachel-ness, he's stuck in this dumb pink tie for the afternoon.

And of course, it turned out to be exactly everything he was afraid it would be... because she's just gotta be so Rachel-y with her frilly girly dresses and loud singing and giggles (okay the giggling he can live with and maybe the singing too, if she'd just pick some better songs). But everything– no seriously, he means EVERYTHING– is decorated in PINK.

Pink streamers and pink tablecloths and plates and cups and napkins. Pink balloons and flowers and bowls full of pink candies with little pink bags full of pink party favors set up on a long pink table. Pink wrapping paper on every gift and even the FOOD and drinks are pink – including the inside of the birthday cake! It's kind of every boy's worst dream, being trapped in one big pink nightmare.

Then there's Rachel herself, dolled up like a walking Pepto-Bismol commercial in head-to-toe pink from the ribbon in her hair to the sparkly-shiny (you guessed it, PINK) glittered ballet slippers on her feet. Her fancy pink dress has little pink hearts all over it and so does her fuzzy neon pink cardigan sweater along with the satin sash wrapped around her chest that says Birthday Girl (as if you couldn't deduce that at a glance) and the tiny pink be-jeweled tiara atop her head. Her fingernails are freshly coated in a deep shade and while he's never seen her wearing makeup before, her eyelids, cheeks and lips all look much rosier colored than he remembers them ever being before. Not that he pays very close attention; it's just kinda noticeable today (which is saying something considering the ocean of shades of pink he's drowning in).

The only thing NOT pink is the jillion gold stars that are also dotted around the space everywhere. The party is at her house and it's December, so it's really cold out and all he wanted to do that day was go with Puck to try out the new sled he just got since they finally got some fresh snow, but all Rachel seems to wanna do is make him DANCE with her on a pink light-up stage in her very pink basement. Except for like four other Jewish girls from her synagogue, Tina Cohen-Chang and Kurt Hummel, he's the only kid in their age group there and (aside from Kurt) the only boy in attendance. It's so not cool, but neither is Rachel. At least Puck isn't around to witness the potentially most embarrassing afternoon he's ever spent in his life. Batman knows, he'd never live it down.

And just when he thought things couldn't get any more humiliating than being in a pink-bathed prison with the uncoolest girl in Lima Ohio, it's time to open presents.

He figures he needs to find some really epic means of payback against his mom, who apparently bought a birthday present by proxy and labeled it FROM HIM. And that would be totally cool if it wasn't the kind of gift he was sure would haunt him for the rest of his life – a pink bedazzled microphone and karaoke machine. Which of course only meant Rachel had to test it out Johnny on the spot and she immediately lit into some very PINK-themed music (like songs by the Spice Girls and the singer named Pink and some Frenchy-froo-froo song about living a pink life or whatever she said it was about).

Then she grabs the bedazzled microphone in one hand and his wrist in the other and tugs him around the room singing If You Wanna Be My Lover and he's finally perfectly fitting in with this pink catastrophe of a day since he's sure he's turned completely pink from the tips of his ears to his face to his neck and probably right down to his feet. But throughout this epic embarrassment, he does notice one thing: she's really happy. Like maybe even glowing pink. And when the song is over, she totally surprises the pink right out of his brain by popping up on her perfectly pink tippy toes and planting a bubble-gum flavored kiss on his lips to say thank you for the most perfect birthday gift she'd ever received.

He leaves Rachel's party an hour later, pink party hat and a matching bag of pink pens and puzzles and stickers and bubble juice in hand and silently festers, contemplating whether he should hate his mom or totally thank her for that Trojan horse birthday gift.

. . . . .

They're at the bowling alley. It's their sophomore year of high school. He just got his driver's license and he finally asked her out on a real date and when they arrived at the Lima Lanes – the surprise destination he'd picked himself – he thought she was going to cry.

"But everyone likes bowling, Rachel" was his argument as she stood frozen with her arms folded in front of her chest staring at the place like she was being dragged to Nemo's fish fry. "C'mon," he urges with a little irritated exhale and a slight roll of the eyes. "Just give it a chance, please? If you really don't like it, then... then I guess we can go watch Funny Girl at your house on the projection screen. Again." Negotiating with Rachel NEVER seemed to go his way unless there was some promise of Streisand or Broadway musicals involved for him to suffer through.

She tries to hide the smile that's threatening to break through then finally if reluctantly complies. He holds her hand as they walk across the parking lot and opens the door for her when they arrive at the entrance, at which point she looks up and offers him a dazzling pearly white smile – the one that makes his heart do backflips.

Once inside, Rachel quickly appraises the space expecting to turn tail and head right home for Barbra and brownie-chunk ice cream but is thrilled beyond thrill to see an all-pink lane with pink chairs and a giant pink balloon tied to a vase of pink carnations. He knows from the look on her face that the sound is coming and braces himself for impact. "Oooo!" she squeals "It's PIIIIINK! Do we get bowl in that lane?" she asks excitedly, clapping and bouncing in place while pointing obnoxiously at the feminine display not more than fifteen feet away from them.

Finn feels his cheeks heat up and his chest tighten. "Umm... well, I think that's uh, a special lane, Rach. Someone must have reserved it for... I dunno, something special..." he watches her crestfallen face deflate with obvious disappointment, and his heart flutters as he pulls a lopsided grin. "Y'know, something really special, like a first date with a super special girl. The kinda girl who really likes PINK and stuff."

She turns to face him, understanding settling upon her and breathing new joyous life into that oh-so-expressive face of hers. He swears it just bubbles right up from the soles of her feet to the top of her head and gives her wings because she practically flies up off the ground and into his arms. "For me? YOU did this...? For me?"

He turns three shades of pink and the look on her face is totally worth the complete and utter embarrassment. "Yup," was his super-smooth response and she plants a cinnamon-flavored kiss on his lips that he swears steals all the breath from his body.

"You are the sweetest boy in the history of the world Finn Hudson!" She slides down from his arms and heads to her pink paradise in practically a skip, where she sees three pink and purple bowling balls waiting for them, along with pink bowling shoes with a pink bow on them.

At her questioning but excited gaze, he gestures to the shoes and explains further, "Well I knew you'd totally HATE the rental shoes here because, y'know, germs and whatever. So I got your shoe size from your dads and when they asked why I wanted to know, they actually insisted on buying these. But it was my idea. Because I like bowling and I kinda hoped if you had your own shoes, you might be okay with it too, and then, y'know maybe it could be our thing to do together sometimes."

She has happy tears misted in her sparkling eyes as she clutches at her chest when she beams up at him. "I love you," she whispers and plants another spicy glossy cinnamon kiss on his cheek. He doesn't even wipe the gloss off.

. . . . .

Pink plays a big role in his life. Always has and seems like it always will from now on. He figures he was doomed (or fated perhaps) by that first pink Power Ranger. The year upon year of pink-clad birthday parties and Halloween costumes were the mere tip of the iceberg.

The shade of pink in her senior prom dress was almost as beautiful as the shade she wore to her college graduation, but not nearly as lovely as the blush shade of her wedding gown. Naturally his outfits always had to compliment hers, so his wardrobe has held quite a variety of shades of pink for nearly as long as he can remember now.

But none of those shades of pink are as important as the one currently being painted on his fingernails by two miniature-sized Rachels, only thirteen months apart from each other in age, but both who've inherited all their mother's crazy obsession with that particular shade and all the crazy Rachel-y girliness that comes with it.

As his three-year-old pours more imaginary tea into the tiny pink plastic teacup spread out before him, the four-year-old lectures him on proper pinky etiquette. He's mid-slurp when his little pink bejeweled tiara slips off his head into the middle of their faux tea party spread with a clank and he hears the giggling coming from the doorway behind them.

"Well well. I see my girls have done a wonderful job keeping an eye on daddy for me while I was at the doctor's! Who has a hug for mommy?" Rachel coos as the giggling gaggle of girls collects around her hips.

Her thoroughly relieved-looking husband raises himself from his squatted position in the tiny chair where his long limbs had been folded into (and she still has no idea how he manages to do that) back to his full towering height and stretches, then leans to his wife for a kiss. When she attempts to pull him closer for a more thorough greeting he poo-poos her with a "hey, watch it my nails are still wet!" and she laughs even harder.

"Chloe talked you into mani's and pedi's again, I see?"

"PSHHH. Talk... sure. As if there's any negotiating with these little pink terrorists of ours. It's cool though, and WAY better than beauty salon day."

"Oh right, we couldn't get that Barbie hairbrush untangled from your hair last time!" she chuckles as she strokes his bristly locks. "Good thing Uncle Kurt is very clever with the barber shears. Okay you two little sea monkeys, go wash your hands for lunch! Scoot, and don't forget to use soap! Mellie, be sure you help Chlo-Chlo."

As the twin pink-clad princess tornadoes head down the hall to the washroom, he puffs out his chest, proudly announcing "Today I agreed to the mani's only though," looking around the pink paradise of a little girl's room that they're standing in, he sighs, "Gotta draw the line somewhere, y'know?" he chuckles.

"Do we?" she smirked, as she stroked a hand over her little round baby bump. "Well that's good, drawing lines... Especially since the next one needs to be blue."

"What?" his smile slowly lifts, one side of his face then the other stretching to mirror it, until all his dimples are on full display. "Wait, y-you found out today? Is it for sure?"

Her blinding white smile steals his breath. "I did. I wasn't supposed to have another ultrasound until the next visit but since I had a little cramping today, she humored me so we could check just to be sure."

"Cramping," his face falls to concern immediately, but before he can ask, she's already answering.

"Everything's perfectly fine and normal, baby boy Hudson is incubating just fine in there. It was just a precaution; it's normal pregnancy growing pains, that's all. I'm sorry honey, I know you like to be there for the ultrasounds. You're not mad are you?"

"Mad? You've got my third child growing inside you, and you're telling me it's gonna be my first SON... how could I ever be mad? Baby, I love you so much!"

"I love you more," she says as she tugs him down for sweet kisses while he carefully embraces her without touching his tacky wet nails on her clothes.

"But just so you know, Finny, junior here might like pink as much as his big sisters. Maybe even more."

"Hey, he can like whatever color of the rainbow he wants so long as he gets here in the pink, Rach. Healthy and happy. That's all I want– for him, for them and for you."

"Me too, babe. That's all I want too."

~fin~