Fic: I Thought This Only Happened in the Movies (Rachel/Quinn, Finn/Puck, PG-13)
Title: I Thought This Only Happened in the Movies
Author: biruuu
Pairings: One-sided Rachel/Quinn, one-sided Finn/Puck
Words: 6358
Spoilers: Takes place roughly around 1x08 "Mash-Up".
Summary: The night before her birthday, Rachel makes a wish that could potentially turn her life upside down.
Notes: Written for the gleefics Birthday Contest. Huge thanks to unequivocally and ipleadthe5th for being such awesome, patient betas.
--
Staring at her bedroom ceiling, Rachel cursed the school cafeteria’s brand new coke-flavored slushies. Her pores had probably absorbed the caffeine, and now she couldn’t sleep.
Usually, she appreciated those rare moments when everything seemed to stand still and she was free to let her imagination fly. She could see Broadway, Hollywood, brightly lit stages, camera flashes while walking the red carpet. On that particular night, however, her brain was racing and the images were moving so fast she couldn’t focus on any of them.
In an effort to clear up her jumbled thoughts, she went through a mental checklist of her nightly tasks, making sure that she hadn’t skipped any. New MySpace video: check. Vocal exercises: check. A quick search of google to ensure that nobody else named Rachel Berry had become a star before she got the chance to do so: check.
Rachel punched her pillows for the umpteenth time, trying in vain to find the source of her restlessness. She glanced at her bedside alarm clock. 11:54. Six more minutes until her birthday.
Maybe that was the reason why she couldn't sleep, she reasoned. This was the first birthday in a long time that she was actually looking forward to. Spending an entire afternoon with Jacob Ben Israel and the freaks he called friends, regularly refusing to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with them wasn’t exactly her idea of a fun birthday. However, it beat having to endure her dads' concerned questions regarding the fact that she never brought any friends home, so that had been the solution she’d come up with for the past two years.
This year was different, though. This year, she had people she actually wanted to spend her birthday with. She’d sent a mass e-mail to all the members of glee club, informing them of date, time, and dress code (tie optional). So far, only Finn had replied. She was pretty sure Noah was coming too, because he was sort of her boyfriend, but she really wanted everybody to attend.
She threw the covers to the side, getting up and walking over to her desk. A quick check of her inbox. Nothing. She moved over to the window and opened it just a crack. Perhaps a little fresh air would help her relax.
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she spotted a shooting star up in the sky. Closing her eyes tightly, she made her wish.
I want to be popular, even if it's just for one day.
When she opened her eyes again, there wasn't any trace of light left, so she assumed that she’d probably imagined it. She held back a sigh and shuffled back to bed.
--
The first thing Rachel did when she woke up the next morning was wrinkle her nose at the weird smell coming from somewhere in her room. The second was wonder what was wrong with her pajama bottoms; they felt kind of tight at the front. The third thing she did was scream, in a voice that was most definitely not her own.
She sat up quickly and scanned her unfamiliar surroundings. It looked like a boy's room, which made sense because she was pretty sure the parts of body she could see were all boy and what on Earth was going on?
Trying not to panic, she bolted out of bed and headed for the full-length mirror she'd spotted seconds before, finding one Finn Hudson staring back at her. She made a noise in the back of her (his?) throat-high B, she noted proudly-and dashed for Finn's cell phone.
It took her three failed attempts to realize she was supposed to call her own number, not Finn's.
“Oh my God,” her voice greeted her from the other side of the line.
“Finn, is that you?”
A hesitant pause on the other end.
“Rachel?”
She sat back down on Finn's bed; the height was making her dizzy. “This-this is all real then. I can’t believe this is happening to me, and on such a significant date as today. Did you do anything out of the usual yesterday? Wait, don’t tell me you found some old pop-tart in your locker and ate it again.”
“Quinn made me clean my locker after that, remember?” He mumbled. “Anyway, do you really set your alarm this early every morning? That’s kind of intense.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Do you mind if we focus on what’s important?”
“Right, right,” Finn said. “So what the hell's going on? How did this happen?” Wow, Rachel thought, cringing in spite of herself. My voice can be kind of screechy.
“I don't know, I-hold on,” she faltered, lowering her voice, “I think this might be my fault.”
Another pause.
“Oh. So... so Quinn was right all this time. You’ve been like, doing black magic on me, and one of the spells backfired or something.”
“What? No, what are you talking about? Listen, just-meet me in the choir room in thirty minutes. Don't talk to anybody.” And with that, Rachel hung up.
Finn turned around and got back to what he was doing before Rachel had interrupted him: staring at Rachel's body in the mirror. Bringing his hands to the hem of Rachel's pajama top, he beamed. “This is gonna be so fun.”
--
Rachel had taken her time being very, very careful of respecting Finn’s intimacy while getting ready-she trusted that he’d done the same; he was an honorable, chivalrous boy-and compiling a list of things they needed to know about each other in order to get through the day. As a result, he was already in the choir room by the time she got there.
“This is so strange,” she blurted when she came face to face with-well, her face.
“No kidding,” Finn said, frowning. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but whatever it is that you did, you kinda need to fix it or people are going to think we’re nuts.”
Rachel sighed; she was already tired and the day hadn’t even started. “Look, Finn, I’m just as confused as you are, but let’s make some things clear. One: I didn’t mean for this to happen. Two: we just need to focus on planning how we’re going to get through today. If my suspicions are right, everything could be back to normal by this time tomorrow. And three: if you’re going to choose the shortest skirt in my closet, then please, please remember to at least close your legs.”
--
The questions on Rachel’s list ranked from tame (”Who do you usually have lunch with?”) to logical (”Any allergies I should know about?”) to thoughtful (”If somebody asks me what I thought about yesterday’s game, what should I say?”) to downright inappropriate (”Now that Quinn’s pregnant, what do you two do when you’re... alone? Don’t look at me like that. If she’s coming to your house after school, this is crucial information for me to have.”).
Finn didn’t really see the point in answering those questions, and some of them were kinda making him uncomfortable, but Rachel looked like she was ready to physically stop him from leaving the room unless he answered-and honestly, it wouldn’t be too hard; Rachel’s body was tiny-so he did. (“The guys on the team, so you should fake a headache or something and skip lunch.” “Are you kidding? If there was any kind of food I couldn’t eat, I’m pretty sure I’d die.” “There was no game yesterday, so don’t worry about it.” “Oh come on, Rachel, that’s private. I’m not answering that.” And then, at Rachel’s insistent glare, a muttered “We just round second base once in a while.”)
Rachel nodded and started writing everything down, apparently satisfied with his answers. Finn sighed in relief, but then something crossed his mind that made his heart drop to his stomach.
“Wait. Tell me that doesn’t mean I’m gonna have to make out with Puck,” he said, eyes squeezed shut.
“Well, obviously. And consider yourself lucky that I haven’t given in to his amorous advances yet. You’ll find that he can be really persuasive, but don’t let him touch anything under the clothes. He’ll do this thing with his tongue that you need to be ready for, but-Finn? Finn, are you okay? You look a little green. Would you mind not making that face? Premature wrinkling would not be good for my career.”
--
All things considered, Finn thought he was doing a damn good job at being Rachel. He’d spent five minutes in front of the mirror, practicing that girly tilt-head-down-and-look-up look Quinn had directed at him so many times. He’d even smiled flirtingly at Puck when they’d crossed paths on the hallway. So what if he’d ducked into the girls’ bathroom once he’d seen him start to walk in his direction? There was only so much he was willing to do, and making out with Puck in public was definitely not on the list, even if it meant that Rachel was going to get pissed at him. He still had his pride. They were also both on the football team, which meant that he’d seen Puck naked, and frankly, he was just protecting Rachel by trying to keep things from getting too intense. Finn was sure that thing could do serious damage.
--
Matt caught up to Rachel after third period. “Dude, a heads up. I don’t know what’s up with Rachel today, but if you’re in any classes with her, make sure to get up and walk to the front of the room if you can. Two words: Lace. Panties.” He clapped her on the shoulder and sprinted off down the hallway. Rachel rolled her eyes, thinking that she liked Matt better when he didn’t talk, and dug Finn’s cell phone out of her pocket, pressing the keys furiously. Remember what I told you about closing your legs? PLEASE DO IT.
--
The second time Rachel got caught trying to get into the ladies’ room by mistake, they sent her to an emergency meeting with Ms. Pillsbury, who handed her a brochure with the words “To Penis Or Not To Penis: A Guide For Sexually Confused Teenagers” written on the front. She happened to find it extremely informative.
--
Thanks to an extraordinary stroke of luck, it was ballad week in glee, which meant that there wasn’t any choreography to rehearse. Any other time, their cover would have been blown in a second.
Rachel was holding the drumsticks at a safe distance, wondering how she was going to get out of that one, when Finn entered the choir room. She immediately motioned him over.
“What now?” He looked as tired as Rachel felt.
She looked around, making sure that nobody was close enough to eavesdrop. Quinn was staring at them, so she put on her best goofy smile and mouthed ‘coming’. Then she leaned even closer to Finn, and spoke in a barely audible voice.
“It’s my birthday today, Finn.”
He frowned, eyes widening after a beat. His voice noticeably louder than usual, he said, “Crap, I’m sorry. Happy Birth-”
“That’s not what I meant!” she whispered furiously. “Go over there and remind everybody that their expected time of arrival at my house is 5:30.” At his worried look, she added, “I know you can’t match my broad lexicon knowledge, so just keep it short.”
Finn raised his eyebrows. “If I keep it short, they’ll know it’s not you. You kinda talk a lot, no offense.”
“Well, what other options do we have? Let’s just risk it,” Rachel said, crossing her arms.
Finn seemed to think it over, and then he nodded to himself and walked slowly to the front of the choir room, his arms by his sides, fists closed tight. “Mr. Schuester, if I may,” he began. Wow, that does sound like something I would say, Rachel thought.
Mr. Schue called the group to attention, and all eyes turned to Finn. He appeared to be in a deep state of concentration, kind of like Brittany did when somebody asked her what day of the week it was. After a few seconds, he opened his mouth.
“Today is a very special day, and I have something to say to all of you, my felonious glee clubbers...”
Rachel covered her face with her hands and tuned out the rest of the speech.
--
Staring at the open book in front of her, Rachel wondered when it was that McKinley had started offering Chinese as an elective, because she couldn’t understand a thing. She kept glancing at Quinn, taking in the calm, relaxed version of her that she’d never been exposed to before.
They were at Finn’s house, and Rachel couldn’t believe how smoothly everything was going. Almost too smoothly, in fact. She had to admit that she was a little disappointed.
After she had gotten over the shock of waking up inside Finn’s body, her practical side had taken over. This could turn out to be her best performance yet. She wouldn’t deny that she had spent the last few months watching Finn whenever she could, and daydreaming about him, so she was confident that she had him down to a T. She was itching to get to practice the lovesick aspect of his personality, but Quinn wasn’t really giving her any openings. She sighed, accidentally getting Quinn’s attention.
“What’s up with you? You haven’t even started on your homework yet. If you really want to go to her birthday,” and Rachel couldn’t help feeling impressed at how much disgust Quinn was capable of infusing into a simple, three-lettered word, “which really, I don’t understand, because it’s pretty much social suicide, you should start already. I’m not writing your paper for you this time.”
Rachel was sure that she resembled a deer caught in headlights right then, but to be fair, that wasn’t a stretch for what Finn looked like sometimes, so she figured she was safe. She shook her head.
“Sorry, you just-you look very pretty today.”
It was true. Rachel hadn’t had many opportunities to really look at Quinn for such an extended period of time. Being off the Cheerios meant that she didn’t have to wear that ridiculous uniform or that severe ponytail everywhere she went, and Rachel had to admit that she was, objectively speaking, one of the prettiest girls she’d ever seen.
It took a few seconds, but then, the compliment seemed to register in Quinn’s mind and she smiled-not sneered, smiled; sweetly even-at her (well, it was actually at Finn, but Rachel wasn’t about to complain), and she swore she could hear her heart skipping a beat.
Ten minutes later, she’d come up with a plan of action. She was supposed to be acting like Finn, after all, and if there was something she knew about teenage boys, it was that they thought about kissing girls all the time. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was suddenly very curious about how kissing a girl would feel like.
Well, maybe it had a little to do with that. Because, sure, she’d heard about college and experimenting, but that was still too far away. This could be the only chance she would get in a while.
“My... my brain is starting to hurt,” she began, trying to channel her inner Noah Puckerman. It was confusing, even for her, being so many people at the same time. She briefly wondered how Finn was doing. “Can we take a break?”
Quinn actually giggled, and Rachel felt a stirring low in her stomach. How could boys handle all that... equipment hanging there and the risk of having it behave inappropriately at the worst possible moments? “Seriously, Finn, we’ve only been studying for twenty minutes. I’m starting to worry about your stamina.” But she was getting up from her seat at the same time, so Rachel guessed that it had worked and followed her to the sofa happily.
--
So, the whole being a girl thing wasn’t that bad, Finn thought. Sure, it took him longer to get places, and he’d had to throw half of his lunch away-which just should not happen-but overall, it was cool. Also, boobs were like, right there, all the time. That part was awesome.
A bounce on his step, he even did a little spin when he reached the Berry lawn, smiling when the motion made Rachel’s skirt twirl. And then he stopped, because it was one thing to pretend to be a girl in front of other people, but he suspected that doing it when he was alone was kind of gay. He fished out Rachel’s keys from her bag, opening the door and stepping inside the house. It looked empty. Rachel had told him that her parents worked late and they probably wouldn’t be around for the birthday party, and Finn had sighed in relief. Because honestly, having to fake in front of her parents would have been pretty much impossible. He didn’t even remember where the dudes worked, and Rachel had told him a thousand times.
Slowly climbing up the stairs, he thought about how being trapped inside a girl’s body was probably the weirdest thing that was going to happen to him in all his life. Having to keep it a secret was going to suck. He wished he could tell his grandkids one day, at least. He’d have to ask Rachel.
He reached the landing, and couldn’t hold in a yawn. Maybe he’d be able to squeeze in a little nap time before people started coming. If they even showed up.
When he got to Rachel’s bedroom, though, sleeping-or even getting any closer to that bed-was the last thing on his mind, because Puck was already there, propped up on an elbow and smirking.
Finn couldn’t help it. He gasped, quite girlishly too. “Puck, dude, you scared the hell out of me!”
Puck pouted his lips in a way that maybe worked for Rachel, but frankly, it just made him look ridiculous. “You calling me Puck now, babe?”
Crap. “I-I mean... Noah, what are you doing here?”
“It’s my birthday gift to you,” he said, flopping back on the bed and crossing his arms under his head. “Quality Puckerone time.” When Finn didn’t react, he added, “And beer. For the party.”
“Cool,” Finn said, because, beer. “Would Ra-my dads be okay with it, though?”
“What they don’t know can’t hurt them,” Puck shrugged, and patted the bed next to him. “Come on, we’re wasting precious seconds.”
Finn walked slowly to the bed. What else could he do at that point? He couldn’t do anything about the fact that Rachel and Puck’s relationship seemed to be all about making out.
“Can’t we... talk first, or something?”
“You’re such a girl,” Puck groaned, but he was smiling all the same. “What do you want to talk about anyway?”
Finn sat down, racking his brain for something Rachel would say. “I’m just worried about the party, I guess. What if nobody comes?”
“Oh, they’ll come alright. I threatened them. If they don’t show up, every day from now to the end of the year will be slushie day for them.” He grinned smugly.
Against his best efforts, Finn felt his eyes widen and his mouth turn up in a small smile too. “You really did that?” That’s pretty awesome, he thought.
Puck just wiggled his eyebrows and flexed his arm a little. Finn took mental notes of everything. Ridiculous as it looked to him, it definitely seemed to work with the girls.
He figured he didn’t have any more reasons to stall now, so he laid back on the bed and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. He felt the bed shift, and then Puck’s hand stroking his side. “Rach?” He opened his eyes, finding Puck’s face much closer than he would have liked. “Relax, okay? It’ll take your mind off things, I promise.” And this was so different from the Puck he knew. This was almost sweet, and he couldn’t help but nod his head a little.
Puck leaned down the rest of the way and pressed his lips to Finn’s. After a few seconds of awkwardness-he supposed that was bound to happen when you made out with your best guy friend, except he had no idea who you really were-Finn tried for a different approach. He pictured Quinn above him instead of Puck. It wasn’t perfect (Quinn’s cheek wasn’t scratchy, and no part of her had ever pressed against Finn’s leg like that, oh God), so it took a little adjusting, but he managed to relax at last.
Okay, and Puck was pretty good when it came to kissing and stuff, to be honest. He’d managed to get his hands really close to Rachel’s panties, and Finn had no idea how it had happened. Remembering Rachel’s guidelines, he reached down and put them safely back on his waist, away from dangerous territory. Puck didn’t complain, he just kept on going. Another mental note. Finn was sure that he was going to drive Quinn crazy with how much he was learning.
Out of nowhere, he heard a girl moan, and he almost freaked out before he realized that it had been himself. Then he freaked out even more. It wasn’t fair, really. The neck was his weak spot. It could have happened to anybody.
When he started to feel the urge to run his hands through Puck’s mohawk, he decided that it wasn’t like he wanted to touch the guy’s dick, so no gay there. He lifted one hand from where it was resting on Puck’s hip and touched it.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected it to feel like, but the first thing that ran through his mind was that if Puck ever let his hair grow long, he’d probably have a big-ass afro, and next thing he knew, Puck was staring at him, a cross between annoyed and kind of hurt on his face.
“Are you... laughing at me?” he asked.
Finn stalled, trying to find something that could justify his sudden inability to keep a straight face. “N-no, it’s just-”
But then Puck got a glint on his eye and he was back to kissing Finn’s neck, his tongue right there, doing something that Finn was pretty sure was exactly what Rachel had warned him about. He could sense something unraveling low on his stomach, but by the time he realized what it was, he didn’t even have time to think mailman before his body started to feel like it was melting from the inside and the only thing he could do was hold on to Puck’s shoulders until it passed.
When he felt like he could breathe again, he opened his eyes and found Puck staring hard at him, as if he was afraid of maybe having gone too far (and seriously, what had Rachel done to him? Puck, scared?), but then he chuckled. “I didn't even touch you. Damn, I'm better than I thought.”
--
Admittedly, Rachel wasn’t the most experienced person when it came to kissing. Still, in her humble opinion, she had to say that Quinn was really, really good. Noah could go a little too fast at times, almost as if kissing was just a mandatory stop along the way towards something else. Quinn, on the other hand, was in no hurry. And as a result, neither was Rachel.
The Hudson living-room sofa seemed to have a few broken springs, something was definitely digging on her back, and she hadn’t thought of drawing the blinds closed, so a ray of sunlight was hitting her square in one eye, but Rachel didn’t care about any of that because Quinn was sighing and whimpering softly in the back of her throat, almost like she wasn’t aware she was doing it, and all Rachel could do was try and coax those sounds out of her again and again. It was intoxicating, being able to get that reaction out of Quinn Fabray, president of the Celibacy Club and the unofficial Rachel Berry haters club.
Quinn broke away from the kiss with a last-and, again, most certainly involuntary-quiet moan, looking at Rachel with an eyebrow raised.
“Are you feeling alright?”
Rachel blinked a few times because, what kind of question was that? Surely Quinn could tell exactly how Rachel was feeling, the way their bodies were pressed together. She had to mean something else by asking that, but Rachel had no idea what it might be.
“I mean,” Quinn laughed a little, and Rachel felt a rush of sympathy towards her, sensing how embarrassed she was getting, “normally you don’t... you know,” she trailed off, vaguely gesturing in the direction of Rachel’s waist.
Rachel still didn’t know what Quinn was talking about. Well, she had an idea of the general area Quinn was referring to, but no clue about what question Quinn wanted her to answer.
“Do you-” Rachel found that she needed to clear her throat; if Quinn’s answer was yes, all of this would be over. Her time would have ran out. “Do you want to stop?”
That must have been the right thing to say though, because Quinn smiled and leaned back down, whispering, “No, it’s okay. It’s perfect,” before kissing her again. And Rachel had to agree. No amount of old sofas with loose springs or annoying rays of light would be able to make that moment any less than perfect.
--
They ended up arriving late to Rachel’s house. Rachel could appreciate the irony in that: less than a day before, she was so nervous for her party that she hadn’t been able to fall asleep, and in the end, she couldn’t even be on time for it.
What greeted her on arrival was pure chaos. Santana and Brittany appeared out of nowhere and ushered Quinn away, giggling about something that sounded scarily close to family home videos. Kurt and Tina were huddled around Kurt’s iPod, with Mercedes periodically-and loudly-vetoing their choice of songs from where she was kneeling on the carpet, scrubbing at an unidentified stain.
“Hello, Finn.” Kurt had spotted her, and he was now making his way to the hallway. “We were starting to think that you wouldn’t make it.”
Rachel smiled at him like she remembered Finn doing, a little forced. “Well, here I am.” She pretended to look around at the decoration. “Nice house,” she nodded.
“Yeah, as utterly clueless as Rachel can be when it comes to anything having to do with good taste,” Rachel looked in another direction, hiding her scowl, “the fact that there are two gay men living in this house definitely shows.” He smiled charmingly.
“Speaking of Rachel,” she interrupted before Kurt could insult her any further. “Where is she?”
Kurt’s face fell. Rachel felt bad about blowing him off like that, but she really needed to talk to Finn, see how the afternoon was going. Kurt pointed her in the general direction of the backyard with a flick of his wrist, and went back to Tina without looking at her again.
Rachel made a mental note to come back to Kurt later and try to make amends, and headed for the kitchen. Before she could reach the double doors that led to the backyard, she stepped on something that cracked under her weight. Crouching down, she picked it up, holding it close to her face. It looked like a small ball. Maybe the boys were playing some kind of tennis-like game.
Just then, Mike came bursting through the doors, shouting over his shoulder. “You were just lucky, Puckerman. I’m gonna crush you on the next round!” He spotted Rachel then. “Oh, hey man. We were just wondering where you were.” He opened a cooler that had been placed next to the fridge and-was that beer?
Bracing herself for whatever criminal antics were going on in her backyard, Rachel stepped outside. She had to hold in a gasp. They had rearranged every single piece of her parents’ lawn furniture set, and built themselves a makeshift table, which was currently occupied by, apparently, dozens of plastic cups, filled with what was, without a doubt, beer.
She tried to look at it with optimism. Well, looks like everyone is present and accounted for.
At that moment, Finn spotted her from where he was leaning against Noah. Neither of them seemed to be sporting any bruises or black eyes, so Rachel guessed that everything had worked out okay. He seemed a little embarrassed that Rachel had caught him in that position, though, because he instantly got up and walked over to her.
“Hey,” he said, and Rachel thought he sounded a little breathless. “So, how did it go with Quinn?”
“Ah, it was fine. She’s very demanding, as you know.” Finn laughed a little with her. “You?”
Okay, that grimace was definitely exaggerated. “Well, I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
They laughed again.
“So,” Rachel began, bouncing a little on her heels. “Should I play this game too? I don’t even know the rules.”
“What? Oh, right,” Finn seemed a bit distracted. “Uh, I can teach you if you want to.”
Rachel nodded, her jaw set.
--
One hour later, she had managed to beat everybody. Twice.
“Dude, you’re normally drunk off your ass thirty minutes after we start to play,” Puck said, throwing her a dirty look.
Rachel smiled. “I’ve realized it’s more fun when you play to win.”
“Shut up. You sound like Rachel.” Rachel froze, but Puck had already gone inside, so she assumed it had only been an off-hand comment. Still, she was going to have to be more careful. She made sure to belch extra loudly when she reentered the kitchen, grinning when it was received by a mix of ewws and high-fives.
Then, somebody dimmed the living-room lights, and Tina picked up the birthday cake one of Rachel’s dads had baked and took it to the table. Rachel hurried up, so that she could strategically place herself next to Finn. She suspected that everything would get sorted out by midnight, but there was no harm in wishing for it one more time.
For a glee club, they were doing an outstanding job of singing as off-key as they could. Rachel guessed that it was their way of telling her that while they may have come to her birthday, they still didn’t like her that much. She wasn’t buying it, though.
Thankfully, the song came to an end, and while everybody clapped half-heartedly, Rachel focused all of her concentration on her wish, and blew the candles.
--
The moment when Finn had to open the birthday presents was one of the closest calls they’d had all day. How was he supposed to know who that big-nosed blonde lady was? He was already in a bad mood, ever since Rachel had cut him what had to be the tiniest piece of cake in history, so he couldn’t exactly be blamed for not being able to think straight. He glanced blankly from the poster to the scented candles for a few, deadly silent seconds before Puck (and, seriously? Was he turning gay or something? How did he know who that was?) wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. “Streisand, huh? Wow, you people sure think outside the box.”
He met Rachel’s relieved eyes from across the table. Crisis averted, they both seemed to be thinking.
And then, suddenly, the party was over. Brittany hugged him and Matt carried the leftover beer out to his car and next thing he knew, Quinn was yawning and asking Rachel to take her home. Rachel whispered something to her and Quinn nodded once in Finn’s general direction before leaving.
“So, this is it,” Rachel said, hands in her pockets. “Next time we see each other, we might be back in our own bodies.”
“Yeah. It’s been kinda fun, though,” Finn replied, smiling. “I guess having to spend a day inside your body isn’t the worst thing that has happened to me. Uh, no pun intended.”
“It was fun,” Rachel nodded, looking over her shoulder. “Well, I should go now. I have to get my girlfriend home safely,” she said, widening her eyes comically.
Finn chuckled. “And I should help my boyfriend pick up the trash. He’s such a gentleman.”
“Okay,” Rachel laughed, halfway out the door. “See you tomorrow.”
Finn went back to the kitchen, finding Puck in the process of dumping empties into a garbage bag.
“Did everybody leave already?” Finn nodded. “Yeah, I should go too, before your dads come home. I’ll take this. I’m sure they’d find a way to blame me if they found any cheap beer in the house.”
“Well, you were the one who brought it,” Finn reminded him.
“Whatever, it was the best part of the party and you know it,” Puck said, picking up the bag and heading towards the front door. Finn followed him, smiling at the way Puck seemed to be trying not to pant from the effort.
“Okay babe, I think that’s all. See you tomorrow.”
Finn wasn’t sure how it happened, but an innocent goodnight kiss ended up turning into a full-out make out session, and he had a pretty good idea of who had started it. When they separated, he didn’t know who was more confused, him or Puck.
“Whoa there,” Puck laughed, scratching his head. “Good night then.”
After waiting until Puck got into his truck and drove off (and he admitted that that was kinda gay), Finn closed the door and leaned his back against it, a weird feeling in his chest. Shouldn’t he be looking forward to tomorrow bringing everything back to normal?
--
“You were right, it was fun to hang out with everybody outside school for once,” Quinn said.
“Told you,” Rachel smiled at her from the driver’s seat.
“Let’s just... not do it in public, okay? I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”
They had arrived at Quinn’s house. Rachel turned off the engine, unsure as to what she should do next. For all her planning, she’d forgotten to ask Finn about that. She looked over at Quinn, but she was smiling sleepily at her, so Rachel relaxed.
“It’s late,” she commented. “Will you get in trouble?”
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t think so. I should get going, though.”
She leaned over the console and kissed Rachel quickly, turning back to open the door. Rachel panicked.
“Hey,” she said, touching Quinn’s arm. Quinn looked at her questioningly, so Rachel just slid her hand to the back of her neck and brought their lips together one more time. Quinn put her hand on Rachel’s cheek and sighed, starting to make those little noises again and Rachel was sure that she was never going to be able to stop kissing her. Quinn ended up breaking it off before it could go too far, but Rachel felt quite proud of herself when she saw the blush on Quinn’s cheeks.
“Today was a good day,” she said, fingers lingering on Rachel’s cheek, and Rachel could only nod along. “Gotta go now though. Good night.”
Quinn got out of the car, and Rachel put the key back in the ignition. But she was looking at the way Quinn walked towards her doorstep instead of paying attention to what she was doing, so the car stalled. Quinn laughed, and before she tried to start the car again, Rachel couldn’t help thinking that she was really going to miss that laugh. She was going to miss a lot of things.
--
Tossing the controller to the side, Rachel sighed. Was this really what Finn did every night? He didn’t even have a video camera, and there wasn’t a single movie on his DVD collection that didn’t list Michael Bay or Jerry Bruckheimer somewhere in the credits.
She got up from the floor with a yawn and picked up Finn’s pajamas from the back of the chair she’d left them on that morning. Moving to his desk, she tried to at least find something she could read before bed to distract herself from the weird mood she’d fallen into. It reminded her of the few moments she allowed herself to think about what it would be like to have a mom, and she decided right then that, while cliched, it was true: it was in fact possible to miss something even if you’d never had it in the first place.
She was about to pick up a book named ‘Sports Illustrated: The Football Book (Expanded Edition)’-amazingly enough, it seemed to be the one with the most potential-when her eyes fell on a stack of pictures, half-hidden under the post-apocalyptic battlefield that was Finn’s desk.
Extracting them from the pile carefully, she held her breath as about a hundred papers and random items threatened to topple over, only to settle back down after a few seconds.
The pictures were nothing out of the ordinary: a few of them were of Finn and his mom, half the stack featured Noah mugging to the camera, and the last two were two virtually identical pictures of Finn and Quinn, probably taken at one of the many after-game parties Rachel had never been invited to. (Not that she would have been able to attend anyway; she needed her Friday nights to work on her Myspace repertoire. It wasn’t that easy to find balance between the emotional and the technically challenging.)
She put the pictures-minus one-back on the desk and jumped unceremoniously on top of the bed, amused by the creaking sound it made under the weight of Finn’s solid body.
Running her thumb lightly over Finn and Quinn’s smiling faces, she thought about everything that had happened in the past few months, and everything that had happened in the past few hours, and knew that, no matter which side of Lima she happened to wake up on the next day, everything was going to be okay.
Author: biruuu
Pairings: One-sided Rachel/Quinn, one-sided Finn/Puck
Words: 6358
Spoilers: Takes place roughly around 1x08 "Mash-Up".
Summary: The night before her birthday, Rachel makes a wish that could potentially turn her life upside down.
Notes: Written for the gleefics Birthday Contest. Huge thanks to unequivocally and ipleadthe5th for being such awesome, patient betas.
--
Staring at her bedroom ceiling, Rachel cursed the school cafeteria’s brand new coke-flavored slushies. Her pores had probably absorbed the caffeine, and now she couldn’t sleep.
Usually, she appreciated those rare moments when everything seemed to stand still and she was free to let her imagination fly. She could see Broadway, Hollywood, brightly lit stages, camera flashes while walking the red carpet. On that particular night, however, her brain was racing and the images were moving so fast she couldn’t focus on any of them.
In an effort to clear up her jumbled thoughts, she went through a mental checklist of her nightly tasks, making sure that she hadn’t skipped any. New MySpace video: check. Vocal exercises: check. A quick search of google to ensure that nobody else named Rachel Berry had become a star before she got the chance to do so: check.
Rachel punched her pillows for the umpteenth time, trying in vain to find the source of her restlessness. She glanced at her bedside alarm clock. 11:54. Six more minutes until her birthday.
Maybe that was the reason why she couldn't sleep, she reasoned. This was the first birthday in a long time that she was actually looking forward to. Spending an entire afternoon with Jacob Ben Israel and the freaks he called friends, regularly refusing to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with them wasn’t exactly her idea of a fun birthday. However, it beat having to endure her dads' concerned questions regarding the fact that she never brought any friends home, so that had been the solution she’d come up with for the past two years.
This year was different, though. This year, she had people she actually wanted to spend her birthday with. She’d sent a mass e-mail to all the members of glee club, informing them of date, time, and dress code (tie optional). So far, only Finn had replied. She was pretty sure Noah was coming too, because he was sort of her boyfriend, but she really wanted everybody to attend.
She threw the covers to the side, getting up and walking over to her desk. A quick check of her inbox. Nothing. She moved over to the window and opened it just a crack. Perhaps a little fresh air would help her relax.
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she spotted a shooting star up in the sky. Closing her eyes tightly, she made her wish.
I want to be popular, even if it's just for one day.
When she opened her eyes again, there wasn't any trace of light left, so she assumed that she’d probably imagined it. She held back a sigh and shuffled back to bed.
--
The first thing Rachel did when she woke up the next morning was wrinkle her nose at the weird smell coming from somewhere in her room. The second was wonder what was wrong with her pajama bottoms; they felt kind of tight at the front. The third thing she did was scream, in a voice that was most definitely not her own.
She sat up quickly and scanned her unfamiliar surroundings. It looked like a boy's room, which made sense because she was pretty sure the parts of body she could see were all boy and what on Earth was going on?
Trying not to panic, she bolted out of bed and headed for the full-length mirror she'd spotted seconds before, finding one Finn Hudson staring back at her. She made a noise in the back of her (his?) throat-high B, she noted proudly-and dashed for Finn's cell phone.
It took her three failed attempts to realize she was supposed to call her own number, not Finn's.
“Oh my God,” her voice greeted her from the other side of the line.
“Finn, is that you?”
A hesitant pause on the other end.
“Rachel?”
She sat back down on Finn's bed; the height was making her dizzy. “This-this is all real then. I can’t believe this is happening to me, and on such a significant date as today. Did you do anything out of the usual yesterday? Wait, don’t tell me you found some old pop-tart in your locker and ate it again.”
“Quinn made me clean my locker after that, remember?” He mumbled. “Anyway, do you really set your alarm this early every morning? That’s kind of intense.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Do you mind if we focus on what’s important?”
“Right, right,” Finn said. “So what the hell's going on? How did this happen?” Wow, Rachel thought, cringing in spite of herself. My voice can be kind of screechy.
“I don't know, I-hold on,” she faltered, lowering her voice, “I think this might be my fault.”
Another pause.
“Oh. So... so Quinn was right all this time. You’ve been like, doing black magic on me, and one of the spells backfired or something.”
“What? No, what are you talking about? Listen, just-meet me in the choir room in thirty minutes. Don't talk to anybody.” And with that, Rachel hung up.
Finn turned around and got back to what he was doing before Rachel had interrupted him: staring at Rachel's body in the mirror. Bringing his hands to the hem of Rachel's pajama top, he beamed. “This is gonna be so fun.”
--
Rachel had taken her time being very, very careful of respecting Finn’s intimacy while getting ready-she trusted that he’d done the same; he was an honorable, chivalrous boy-and compiling a list of things they needed to know about each other in order to get through the day. As a result, he was already in the choir room by the time she got there.
“This is so strange,” she blurted when she came face to face with-well, her face.
“No kidding,” Finn said, frowning. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but whatever it is that you did, you kinda need to fix it or people are going to think we’re nuts.”
Rachel sighed; she was already tired and the day hadn’t even started. “Look, Finn, I’m just as confused as you are, but let’s make some things clear. One: I didn’t mean for this to happen. Two: we just need to focus on planning how we’re going to get through today. If my suspicions are right, everything could be back to normal by this time tomorrow. And three: if you’re going to choose the shortest skirt in my closet, then please, please remember to at least close your legs.”
--
The questions on Rachel’s list ranked from tame (”Who do you usually have lunch with?”) to logical (”Any allergies I should know about?”) to thoughtful (”If somebody asks me what I thought about yesterday’s game, what should I say?”) to downright inappropriate (”Now that Quinn’s pregnant, what do you two do when you’re... alone? Don’t look at me like that. If she’s coming to your house after school, this is crucial information for me to have.”).
Finn didn’t really see the point in answering those questions, and some of them were kinda making him uncomfortable, but Rachel looked like she was ready to physically stop him from leaving the room unless he answered-and honestly, it wouldn’t be too hard; Rachel’s body was tiny-so he did. (“The guys on the team, so you should fake a headache or something and skip lunch.” “Are you kidding? If there was any kind of food I couldn’t eat, I’m pretty sure I’d die.” “There was no game yesterday, so don’t worry about it.” “Oh come on, Rachel, that’s private. I’m not answering that.” And then, at Rachel’s insistent glare, a muttered “We just round second base once in a while.”)
Rachel nodded and started writing everything down, apparently satisfied with his answers. Finn sighed in relief, but then something crossed his mind that made his heart drop to his stomach.
“Wait. Tell me that doesn’t mean I’m gonna have to make out with Puck,” he said, eyes squeezed shut.
“Well, obviously. And consider yourself lucky that I haven’t given in to his amorous advances yet. You’ll find that he can be really persuasive, but don’t let him touch anything under the clothes. He’ll do this thing with his tongue that you need to be ready for, but-Finn? Finn, are you okay? You look a little green. Would you mind not making that face? Premature wrinkling would not be good for my career.”
--
All things considered, Finn thought he was doing a damn good job at being Rachel. He’d spent five minutes in front of the mirror, practicing that girly tilt-head-down-and-look-up look Quinn had directed at him so many times. He’d even smiled flirtingly at Puck when they’d crossed paths on the hallway. So what if he’d ducked into the girls’ bathroom once he’d seen him start to walk in his direction? There was only so much he was willing to do, and making out with Puck in public was definitely not on the list, even if it meant that Rachel was going to get pissed at him. He still had his pride. They were also both on the football team, which meant that he’d seen Puck naked, and frankly, he was just protecting Rachel by trying to keep things from getting too intense. Finn was sure that thing could do serious damage.
--
Matt caught up to Rachel after third period. “Dude, a heads up. I don’t know what’s up with Rachel today, but if you’re in any classes with her, make sure to get up and walk to the front of the room if you can. Two words: Lace. Panties.” He clapped her on the shoulder and sprinted off down the hallway. Rachel rolled her eyes, thinking that she liked Matt better when he didn’t talk, and dug Finn’s cell phone out of her pocket, pressing the keys furiously. Remember what I told you about closing your legs? PLEASE DO IT.
--
The second time Rachel got caught trying to get into the ladies’ room by mistake, they sent her to an emergency meeting with Ms. Pillsbury, who handed her a brochure with the words “To Penis Or Not To Penis: A Guide For Sexually Confused Teenagers” written on the front. She happened to find it extremely informative.
--
Thanks to an extraordinary stroke of luck, it was ballad week in glee, which meant that there wasn’t any choreography to rehearse. Any other time, their cover would have been blown in a second.
Rachel was holding the drumsticks at a safe distance, wondering how she was going to get out of that one, when Finn entered the choir room. She immediately motioned him over.
“What now?” He looked as tired as Rachel felt.
She looked around, making sure that nobody was close enough to eavesdrop. Quinn was staring at them, so she put on her best goofy smile and mouthed ‘coming’. Then she leaned even closer to Finn, and spoke in a barely audible voice.
“It’s my birthday today, Finn.”
He frowned, eyes widening after a beat. His voice noticeably louder than usual, he said, “Crap, I’m sorry. Happy Birth-”
“That’s not what I meant!” she whispered furiously. “Go over there and remind everybody that their expected time of arrival at my house is 5:30.” At his worried look, she added, “I know you can’t match my broad lexicon knowledge, so just keep it short.”
Finn raised his eyebrows. “If I keep it short, they’ll know it’s not you. You kinda talk a lot, no offense.”
“Well, what other options do we have? Let’s just risk it,” Rachel said, crossing her arms.
Finn seemed to think it over, and then he nodded to himself and walked slowly to the front of the choir room, his arms by his sides, fists closed tight. “Mr. Schuester, if I may,” he began. Wow, that does sound like something I would say, Rachel thought.
Mr. Schue called the group to attention, and all eyes turned to Finn. He appeared to be in a deep state of concentration, kind of like Brittany did when somebody asked her what day of the week it was. After a few seconds, he opened his mouth.
“Today is a very special day, and I have something to say to all of you, my felonious glee clubbers...”
Rachel covered her face with her hands and tuned out the rest of the speech.
--
Staring at the open book in front of her, Rachel wondered when it was that McKinley had started offering Chinese as an elective, because she couldn’t understand a thing. She kept glancing at Quinn, taking in the calm, relaxed version of her that she’d never been exposed to before.
They were at Finn’s house, and Rachel couldn’t believe how smoothly everything was going. Almost too smoothly, in fact. She had to admit that she was a little disappointed.
After she had gotten over the shock of waking up inside Finn’s body, her practical side had taken over. This could turn out to be her best performance yet. She wouldn’t deny that she had spent the last few months watching Finn whenever she could, and daydreaming about him, so she was confident that she had him down to a T. She was itching to get to practice the lovesick aspect of his personality, but Quinn wasn’t really giving her any openings. She sighed, accidentally getting Quinn’s attention.
“What’s up with you? You haven’t even started on your homework yet. If you really want to go to her birthday,” and Rachel couldn’t help feeling impressed at how much disgust Quinn was capable of infusing into a simple, three-lettered word, “which really, I don’t understand, because it’s pretty much social suicide, you should start already. I’m not writing your paper for you this time.”
Rachel was sure that she resembled a deer caught in headlights right then, but to be fair, that wasn’t a stretch for what Finn looked like sometimes, so she figured she was safe. She shook her head.
“Sorry, you just-you look very pretty today.”
It was true. Rachel hadn’t had many opportunities to really look at Quinn for such an extended period of time. Being off the Cheerios meant that she didn’t have to wear that ridiculous uniform or that severe ponytail everywhere she went, and Rachel had to admit that she was, objectively speaking, one of the prettiest girls she’d ever seen.
It took a few seconds, but then, the compliment seemed to register in Quinn’s mind and she smiled-not sneered, smiled; sweetly even-at her (well, it was actually at Finn, but Rachel wasn’t about to complain), and she swore she could hear her heart skipping a beat.
Ten minutes later, she’d come up with a plan of action. She was supposed to be acting like Finn, after all, and if there was something she knew about teenage boys, it was that they thought about kissing girls all the time. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was suddenly very curious about how kissing a girl would feel like.
Well, maybe it had a little to do with that. Because, sure, she’d heard about college and experimenting, but that was still too far away. This could be the only chance she would get in a while.
“My... my brain is starting to hurt,” she began, trying to channel her inner Noah Puckerman. It was confusing, even for her, being so many people at the same time. She briefly wondered how Finn was doing. “Can we take a break?”
Quinn actually giggled, and Rachel felt a stirring low in her stomach. How could boys handle all that... equipment hanging there and the risk of having it behave inappropriately at the worst possible moments? “Seriously, Finn, we’ve only been studying for twenty minutes. I’m starting to worry about your stamina.” But she was getting up from her seat at the same time, so Rachel guessed that it had worked and followed her to the sofa happily.
--
So, the whole being a girl thing wasn’t that bad, Finn thought. Sure, it took him longer to get places, and he’d had to throw half of his lunch away-which just should not happen-but overall, it was cool. Also, boobs were like, right there, all the time. That part was awesome.
A bounce on his step, he even did a little spin when he reached the Berry lawn, smiling when the motion made Rachel’s skirt twirl. And then he stopped, because it was one thing to pretend to be a girl in front of other people, but he suspected that doing it when he was alone was kind of gay. He fished out Rachel’s keys from her bag, opening the door and stepping inside the house. It looked empty. Rachel had told him that her parents worked late and they probably wouldn’t be around for the birthday party, and Finn had sighed in relief. Because honestly, having to fake in front of her parents would have been pretty much impossible. He didn’t even remember where the dudes worked, and Rachel had told him a thousand times.
Slowly climbing up the stairs, he thought about how being trapped inside a girl’s body was probably the weirdest thing that was going to happen to him in all his life. Having to keep it a secret was going to suck. He wished he could tell his grandkids one day, at least. He’d have to ask Rachel.
He reached the landing, and couldn’t hold in a yawn. Maybe he’d be able to squeeze in a little nap time before people started coming. If they even showed up.
When he got to Rachel’s bedroom, though, sleeping-or even getting any closer to that bed-was the last thing on his mind, because Puck was already there, propped up on an elbow and smirking.
Finn couldn’t help it. He gasped, quite girlishly too. “Puck, dude, you scared the hell out of me!”
Puck pouted his lips in a way that maybe worked for Rachel, but frankly, it just made him look ridiculous. “You calling me Puck now, babe?”
Crap. “I-I mean... Noah, what are you doing here?”
“It’s my birthday gift to you,” he said, flopping back on the bed and crossing his arms under his head. “Quality Puckerone time.” When Finn didn’t react, he added, “And beer. For the party.”
“Cool,” Finn said, because, beer. “Would Ra-my dads be okay with it, though?”
“What they don’t know can’t hurt them,” Puck shrugged, and patted the bed next to him. “Come on, we’re wasting precious seconds.”
Finn walked slowly to the bed. What else could he do at that point? He couldn’t do anything about the fact that Rachel and Puck’s relationship seemed to be all about making out.
“Can’t we... talk first, or something?”
“You’re such a girl,” Puck groaned, but he was smiling all the same. “What do you want to talk about anyway?”
Finn sat down, racking his brain for something Rachel would say. “I’m just worried about the party, I guess. What if nobody comes?”
“Oh, they’ll come alright. I threatened them. If they don’t show up, every day from now to the end of the year will be slushie day for them.” He grinned smugly.
Against his best efforts, Finn felt his eyes widen and his mouth turn up in a small smile too. “You really did that?” That’s pretty awesome, he thought.
Puck just wiggled his eyebrows and flexed his arm a little. Finn took mental notes of everything. Ridiculous as it looked to him, it definitely seemed to work with the girls.
He figured he didn’t have any more reasons to stall now, so he laid back on the bed and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. He felt the bed shift, and then Puck’s hand stroking his side. “Rach?” He opened his eyes, finding Puck’s face much closer than he would have liked. “Relax, okay? It’ll take your mind off things, I promise.” And this was so different from the Puck he knew. This was almost sweet, and he couldn’t help but nod his head a little.
Puck leaned down the rest of the way and pressed his lips to Finn’s. After a few seconds of awkwardness-he supposed that was bound to happen when you made out with your best guy friend, except he had no idea who you really were-Finn tried for a different approach. He pictured Quinn above him instead of Puck. It wasn’t perfect (Quinn’s cheek wasn’t scratchy, and no part of her had ever pressed against Finn’s leg like that, oh God), so it took a little adjusting, but he managed to relax at last.
Okay, and Puck was pretty good when it came to kissing and stuff, to be honest. He’d managed to get his hands really close to Rachel’s panties, and Finn had no idea how it had happened. Remembering Rachel’s guidelines, he reached down and put them safely back on his waist, away from dangerous territory. Puck didn’t complain, he just kept on going. Another mental note. Finn was sure that he was going to drive Quinn crazy with how much he was learning.
Out of nowhere, he heard a girl moan, and he almost freaked out before he realized that it had been himself. Then he freaked out even more. It wasn’t fair, really. The neck was his weak spot. It could have happened to anybody.
When he started to feel the urge to run his hands through Puck’s mohawk, he decided that it wasn’t like he wanted to touch the guy’s dick, so no gay there. He lifted one hand from where it was resting on Puck’s hip and touched it.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected it to feel like, but the first thing that ran through his mind was that if Puck ever let his hair grow long, he’d probably have a big-ass afro, and next thing he knew, Puck was staring at him, a cross between annoyed and kind of hurt on his face.
“Are you... laughing at me?” he asked.
Finn stalled, trying to find something that could justify his sudden inability to keep a straight face. “N-no, it’s just-”
But then Puck got a glint on his eye and he was back to kissing Finn’s neck, his tongue right there, doing something that Finn was pretty sure was exactly what Rachel had warned him about. He could sense something unraveling low on his stomach, but by the time he realized what it was, he didn’t even have time to think mailman before his body started to feel like it was melting from the inside and the only thing he could do was hold on to Puck’s shoulders until it passed.
When he felt like he could breathe again, he opened his eyes and found Puck staring hard at him, as if he was afraid of maybe having gone too far (and seriously, what had Rachel done to him? Puck, scared?), but then he chuckled. “I didn't even touch you. Damn, I'm better than I thought.”
--
Admittedly, Rachel wasn’t the most experienced person when it came to kissing. Still, in her humble opinion, she had to say that Quinn was really, really good. Noah could go a little too fast at times, almost as if kissing was just a mandatory stop along the way towards something else. Quinn, on the other hand, was in no hurry. And as a result, neither was Rachel.
The Hudson living-room sofa seemed to have a few broken springs, something was definitely digging on her back, and she hadn’t thought of drawing the blinds closed, so a ray of sunlight was hitting her square in one eye, but Rachel didn’t care about any of that because Quinn was sighing and whimpering softly in the back of her throat, almost like she wasn’t aware she was doing it, and all Rachel could do was try and coax those sounds out of her again and again. It was intoxicating, being able to get that reaction out of Quinn Fabray, president of the Celibacy Club and the unofficial Rachel Berry haters club.
Quinn broke away from the kiss with a last-and, again, most certainly involuntary-quiet moan, looking at Rachel with an eyebrow raised.
“Are you feeling alright?”
Rachel blinked a few times because, what kind of question was that? Surely Quinn could tell exactly how Rachel was feeling, the way their bodies were pressed together. She had to mean something else by asking that, but Rachel had no idea what it might be.
“I mean,” Quinn laughed a little, and Rachel felt a rush of sympathy towards her, sensing how embarrassed she was getting, “normally you don’t... you know,” she trailed off, vaguely gesturing in the direction of Rachel’s waist.
Rachel still didn’t know what Quinn was talking about. Well, she had an idea of the general area Quinn was referring to, but no clue about what question Quinn wanted her to answer.
“Do you-” Rachel found that she needed to clear her throat; if Quinn’s answer was yes, all of this would be over. Her time would have ran out. “Do you want to stop?”
That must have been the right thing to say though, because Quinn smiled and leaned back down, whispering, “No, it’s okay. It’s perfect,” before kissing her again. And Rachel had to agree. No amount of old sofas with loose springs or annoying rays of light would be able to make that moment any less than perfect.
--
They ended up arriving late to Rachel’s house. Rachel could appreciate the irony in that: less than a day before, she was so nervous for her party that she hadn’t been able to fall asleep, and in the end, she couldn’t even be on time for it.
What greeted her on arrival was pure chaos. Santana and Brittany appeared out of nowhere and ushered Quinn away, giggling about something that sounded scarily close to family home videos. Kurt and Tina were huddled around Kurt’s iPod, with Mercedes periodically-and loudly-vetoing their choice of songs from where she was kneeling on the carpet, scrubbing at an unidentified stain.
“Hello, Finn.” Kurt had spotted her, and he was now making his way to the hallway. “We were starting to think that you wouldn’t make it.”
Rachel smiled at him like she remembered Finn doing, a little forced. “Well, here I am.” She pretended to look around at the decoration. “Nice house,” she nodded.
“Yeah, as utterly clueless as Rachel can be when it comes to anything having to do with good taste,” Rachel looked in another direction, hiding her scowl, “the fact that there are two gay men living in this house definitely shows.” He smiled charmingly.
“Speaking of Rachel,” she interrupted before Kurt could insult her any further. “Where is she?”
Kurt’s face fell. Rachel felt bad about blowing him off like that, but she really needed to talk to Finn, see how the afternoon was going. Kurt pointed her in the general direction of the backyard with a flick of his wrist, and went back to Tina without looking at her again.
Rachel made a mental note to come back to Kurt later and try to make amends, and headed for the kitchen. Before she could reach the double doors that led to the backyard, she stepped on something that cracked under her weight. Crouching down, she picked it up, holding it close to her face. It looked like a small ball. Maybe the boys were playing some kind of tennis-like game.
Just then, Mike came bursting through the doors, shouting over his shoulder. “You were just lucky, Puckerman. I’m gonna crush you on the next round!” He spotted Rachel then. “Oh, hey man. We were just wondering where you were.” He opened a cooler that had been placed next to the fridge and-was that beer?
Bracing herself for whatever criminal antics were going on in her backyard, Rachel stepped outside. She had to hold in a gasp. They had rearranged every single piece of her parents’ lawn furniture set, and built themselves a makeshift table, which was currently occupied by, apparently, dozens of plastic cups, filled with what was, without a doubt, beer.
She tried to look at it with optimism. Well, looks like everyone is present and accounted for.
At that moment, Finn spotted her from where he was leaning against Noah. Neither of them seemed to be sporting any bruises or black eyes, so Rachel guessed that everything had worked out okay. He seemed a little embarrassed that Rachel had caught him in that position, though, because he instantly got up and walked over to her.
“Hey,” he said, and Rachel thought he sounded a little breathless. “So, how did it go with Quinn?”
“Ah, it was fine. She’s very demanding, as you know.” Finn laughed a little with her. “You?”
Okay, that grimace was definitely exaggerated. “Well, I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
They laughed again.
“So,” Rachel began, bouncing a little on her heels. “Should I play this game too? I don’t even know the rules.”
“What? Oh, right,” Finn seemed a bit distracted. “Uh, I can teach you if you want to.”
Rachel nodded, her jaw set.
--
One hour later, she had managed to beat everybody. Twice.
“Dude, you’re normally drunk off your ass thirty minutes after we start to play,” Puck said, throwing her a dirty look.
Rachel smiled. “I’ve realized it’s more fun when you play to win.”
“Shut up. You sound like Rachel.” Rachel froze, but Puck had already gone inside, so she assumed it had only been an off-hand comment. Still, she was going to have to be more careful. She made sure to belch extra loudly when she reentered the kitchen, grinning when it was received by a mix of ewws and high-fives.
Then, somebody dimmed the living-room lights, and Tina picked up the birthday cake one of Rachel’s dads had baked and took it to the table. Rachel hurried up, so that she could strategically place herself next to Finn. She suspected that everything would get sorted out by midnight, but there was no harm in wishing for it one more time.
For a glee club, they were doing an outstanding job of singing as off-key as they could. Rachel guessed that it was their way of telling her that while they may have come to her birthday, they still didn’t like her that much. She wasn’t buying it, though.
Thankfully, the song came to an end, and while everybody clapped half-heartedly, Rachel focused all of her concentration on her wish, and blew the candles.
--
The moment when Finn had to open the birthday presents was one of the closest calls they’d had all day. How was he supposed to know who that big-nosed blonde lady was? He was already in a bad mood, ever since Rachel had cut him what had to be the tiniest piece of cake in history, so he couldn’t exactly be blamed for not being able to think straight. He glanced blankly from the poster to the scented candles for a few, deadly silent seconds before Puck (and, seriously? Was he turning gay or something? How did he know who that was?) wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. “Streisand, huh? Wow, you people sure think outside the box.”
He met Rachel’s relieved eyes from across the table. Crisis averted, they both seemed to be thinking.
And then, suddenly, the party was over. Brittany hugged him and Matt carried the leftover beer out to his car and next thing he knew, Quinn was yawning and asking Rachel to take her home. Rachel whispered something to her and Quinn nodded once in Finn’s general direction before leaving.
“So, this is it,” Rachel said, hands in her pockets. “Next time we see each other, we might be back in our own bodies.”
“Yeah. It’s been kinda fun, though,” Finn replied, smiling. “I guess having to spend a day inside your body isn’t the worst thing that has happened to me. Uh, no pun intended.”
“It was fun,” Rachel nodded, looking over her shoulder. “Well, I should go now. I have to get my girlfriend home safely,” she said, widening her eyes comically.
Finn chuckled. “And I should help my boyfriend pick up the trash. He’s such a gentleman.”
“Okay,” Rachel laughed, halfway out the door. “See you tomorrow.”
Finn went back to the kitchen, finding Puck in the process of dumping empties into a garbage bag.
“Did everybody leave already?” Finn nodded. “Yeah, I should go too, before your dads come home. I’ll take this. I’m sure they’d find a way to blame me if they found any cheap beer in the house.”
“Well, you were the one who brought it,” Finn reminded him.
“Whatever, it was the best part of the party and you know it,” Puck said, picking up the bag and heading towards the front door. Finn followed him, smiling at the way Puck seemed to be trying not to pant from the effort.
“Okay babe, I think that’s all. See you tomorrow.”
Finn wasn’t sure how it happened, but an innocent goodnight kiss ended up turning into a full-out make out session, and he had a pretty good idea of who had started it. When they separated, he didn’t know who was more confused, him or Puck.
“Whoa there,” Puck laughed, scratching his head. “Good night then.”
After waiting until Puck got into his truck and drove off (and he admitted that that was kinda gay), Finn closed the door and leaned his back against it, a weird feeling in his chest. Shouldn’t he be looking forward to tomorrow bringing everything back to normal?
--
“You were right, it was fun to hang out with everybody outside school for once,” Quinn said.
“Told you,” Rachel smiled at her from the driver’s seat.
“Let’s just... not do it in public, okay? I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”
They had arrived at Quinn’s house. Rachel turned off the engine, unsure as to what she should do next. For all her planning, she’d forgotten to ask Finn about that. She looked over at Quinn, but she was smiling sleepily at her, so Rachel relaxed.
“It’s late,” she commented. “Will you get in trouble?”
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t think so. I should get going, though.”
She leaned over the console and kissed Rachel quickly, turning back to open the door. Rachel panicked.
“Hey,” she said, touching Quinn’s arm. Quinn looked at her questioningly, so Rachel just slid her hand to the back of her neck and brought their lips together one more time. Quinn put her hand on Rachel’s cheek and sighed, starting to make those little noises again and Rachel was sure that she was never going to be able to stop kissing her. Quinn ended up breaking it off before it could go too far, but Rachel felt quite proud of herself when she saw the blush on Quinn’s cheeks.
“Today was a good day,” she said, fingers lingering on Rachel’s cheek, and Rachel could only nod along. “Gotta go now though. Good night.”
Quinn got out of the car, and Rachel put the key back in the ignition. But she was looking at the way Quinn walked towards her doorstep instead of paying attention to what she was doing, so the car stalled. Quinn laughed, and before she tried to start the car again, Rachel couldn’t help thinking that she was really going to miss that laugh. She was going to miss a lot of things.
--
Tossing the controller to the side, Rachel sighed. Was this really what Finn did every night? He didn’t even have a video camera, and there wasn’t a single movie on his DVD collection that didn’t list Michael Bay or Jerry Bruckheimer somewhere in the credits.
She got up from the floor with a yawn and picked up Finn’s pajamas from the back of the chair she’d left them on that morning. Moving to his desk, she tried to at least find something she could read before bed to distract herself from the weird mood she’d fallen into. It reminded her of the few moments she allowed herself to think about what it would be like to have a mom, and she decided right then that, while cliched, it was true: it was in fact possible to miss something even if you’d never had it in the first place.
She was about to pick up a book named ‘Sports Illustrated: The Football Book (Expanded Edition)’-amazingly enough, it seemed to be the one with the most potential-when her eyes fell on a stack of pictures, half-hidden under the post-apocalyptic battlefield that was Finn’s desk.
Extracting them from the pile carefully, she held her breath as about a hundred papers and random items threatened to topple over, only to settle back down after a few seconds.
The pictures were nothing out of the ordinary: a few of them were of Finn and his mom, half the stack featured Noah mugging to the camera, and the last two were two virtually identical pictures of Finn and Quinn, probably taken at one of the many after-game parties Rachel had never been invited to. (Not that she would have been able to attend anyway; she needed her Friday nights to work on her Myspace repertoire. It wasn’t that easy to find balance between the emotional and the technically challenging.)
She put the pictures-minus one-back on the desk and jumped unceremoniously on top of the bed, amused by the creaking sound it made under the weight of Finn’s solid body.
Running her thumb lightly over Finn and Quinn’s smiling faces, she thought about everything that had happened in the past few months, and everything that had happened in the past few hours, and knew that, no matter which side of Lima she happened to wake up on the next day, everything was going to be okay.