Fic: Rings On Her Fingers (1/5) (Glee) (Finn/Rachel) (Vegas 'Verse) (PG-13)
Title: Rings On Her Fingers (1/5)
'Verse: Vegas 'Verse
Author: ma_raven
Beta: alifab (Drive-By)
Words: 2,100 Words
Spoilers: Pilot through Preggers (01-04)
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairings: Finn/Rachel
Author's Notes: First in a set of 6 scenes (technically, a a 5-piece and a singleton, which sprung out of a "Five Times X and One Time X-1" discussion), built off of the prompt "Five Times Rachel Wore Her Wedding Ring."
Summary: "That was the thing with internet shopping, it didn't seem real until whatever it was you ordered showed up on your doorstep."
Everyone has secrets. It's one of those things that gets learned in middle school, and is never really forgotten. Sometimes people keep them by choice, and sometimes out of fear; either way, a secret's a secret. Like being married to Rachel - that's probably the biggest secret in Finn's life, especially the summer after it happens. Except, there's a part of him that doesn't want it to be a secret. Like, he understands why it is, and he agrees completely, because it's also probably one of the stupidest things he's done in his eighteen years. But that doesn't stop him from browsing for wedding rings at two in the morning after drinking way too much at Kurt's Fourth of July party (in Kurt's defense, Puck brought most of the booze and spiked the Patriotic Punch with grain alcohol). Or, for that matter, from calling the Rothem Collection the next morning and asking about financing options.
Even though his bank account reflected the change, it took a while for Finn to acknowledge what he'd done. That was the thing with internet shopping, it didn't seem real until whatever it was you ordered showed up on your doorstep. Finn was just really, really glad his mom wasn't home when FedEx showed up with the deceptively small package. It took him a week to be willing to open it, and even then he left both of the tiny black boxes shoved in the back of his sock drawer for the rest of the month before cracking it open. Because there was something real about a wedding ring, more real than just a photo and some paperwork, and there was still a big part of him that didn't want this to be real. He'd dealt with real before, could still remember the way his heart had stopped when Quinn told him he was going to be a father, and even if it had later turned out to be less-than-true, in that moment he'd been forced to stare real life straight in the face. Being sixteen, he'd flinched and flinched hard. It wasn't all that much better at eighteen, although practice, as "they" liked to say, was supposed to make perfect. Finn wasn't banking on that particular proverb, but it was better than nothing.
He spent the rest of the summer waffling. Back and forth, back and forth. Too much, not enough, necessary, unwanted. Mr. Schue had told him once that women never turned down jewelry, so Rachel probably wouldn't mind the ring; especially since it should fit her right hand just as well as her left. At the same time, Rachel could be frighteningly unpredictable when it came to "normal" reactions, her pride a creature of its own even at the best of times. They'd agreed that the marriage was just-on-paper, and the only reasons they hadn't divorced were financial. What it boiled down to, after all the mental arguments were in, was that giving her the ring felt right, like owning up to his part of the mess they'd managed to make in the course of one overly sentimental evening.
While great for planning purposes, good intentions and solid rationalizations didn't help the nerves that popped up when he took Rachel out for a goodbye-and-good-luck dinner. They were both tense, sitting in a quiet corner at Mama Maria's and avoiding eye contact as they waited for their meal. Every time one of them broke the silence, the conversation didn't last, and he wondered if maybe they shouldn't just chuck the whole thing. Pick an extreme and run with it, either making good use of the back of her car or just breaking up and getting it over with. They could always play it cool and file for divorce when the need arose. It would be so easy to walk away, but it would hurt like a bad rush, too. He'd enjoyed the summer they had spent joking around and casually dating - just being together, with nothing to prove anymore. He wanted to carry that with him to OSU, that sense of security, and if anything she'd ever told him about showbiz was true, she was going to need all the support she could get when she got to Cincinnati.
"So, um, next weekend, huh?"
She looked up, startled from her current project of dismantling a breadstick one sesame seed at a time. "Yeah, next weekend."
"You ever get ahold of that teacher you kept emailing?"
She smiled, setting down the breadstick. "She answered yesterday morning. They're going to see if I can test out of some of the intro classes, give me more time for performance work. Of course, that throws my whole fall schedule off, but at least they're willing to recognize the value of experience."
He laughed at the combination of enthusiasm and still-not-quite-squished-superiority, relieved to have her re-engaged in the here-and-now. She'd been all-but-gone since the beginning of the week. "That's good, though, right?"
She nodded, picking up the breadstick again and tapping it against her bread plate. "Yes, Finn, it's good." She used her free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and he followed the movement with his gaze, a part of him still fascinated by the changes her now-short hair wrought upon the appearance of her face, even after six weeks of daily viewing.
"Guess it's going to keep you pretty busy, though, all those advanced classes and everything." He turned his attention to his water glass, poking at the lemon slice with his straw. "I've been thinking about it a lot, lately. Things are going to change, aren't they?"
He caught her shrug out of the corner of his eye, and she moved to tuck her hair again even though it hadn't moved. "Yeah, yeah they will."
It was the hesitance in her response that made up his mind, or rather pushed him into action. He'd been figuring dessert, so that the meal wasn't ruined if she got upset, but he wasn't going to relax until the ring had stopped weighing on his mind, and Rachel was showing no signs of truly relaxing at all at this point. "Look, I know things are a little weird - are still a little weird, have been ever since Vegas - but I really like the way things are between us. I like where I see things going, maybe, I don't know. I just, we're going to different schools, different cities. That, it's cool, it makes sense, don't get me wrong." He reached down, fumbling in the pocket of his sport coat until his fingers finally closed around the box. He pulled it out, and set it on the table in front of her. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wanted to make sure that you remember me, you know, when I'm not around."
The sound of Rachel's breadstick hitting the plate seemed to echo, even though he knew that they were far from the only people in the restaurant. She stared at the little black box, a size and shape that every teenaged girl (or woman, for that matter) could recognize in a heartbeat.
"Rachel?" She blinked, expression confused when she turned her attention back to him. However, even as she looked up, her attention was drawn back to the box. "Look, I know you said no rings, and I wasn't going to. I know you think that sometimes I tune you out, and I don't always follow things all that well, but I saw this, and it seemed right. I checked your class ring, so I know it's sized right. And I don't expect, I mean, you don't have to wear it - on either hand. But, I thought you might like to have it, you know?"
She reached out slowly, fingers tentative as she grasped the box, studying it at different angles in the candlelight before finally cracking the seal and looking within. Sitting solemn and silent upon the white faux velvet, the ring looked unbearably perfect in her eyes. "Finn, it's gorgeous. I don't, I mean-" She trailed off as she examined it further.
It wasn't an engagement ring, for which she was grateful, and it wasn't flashy. Given the oddity of their situation, and the likely ramifications if anyone actually found out about it, an engagement ring would raise far more questions than she ever intended to answer. Ever. It was small and delicate, thinner than a traditional wedding band but with just enough sparkle to catch the light. After a long moment, she carefully lifted it from the box and eased it onto the ring finger of her right hand, where it slid comfortably into place. She turned her hand this way and that, watching the light reflect off the tiny inset stones. "Really, I don't know what to say. It's just, it's perfect."
"I'm glad you like it." Finn's soft comment drew her attention back to her dinner partner, and she smiled sheepishly.
"Thank you, Finn. I-" She was interrupted by the arrival of their salads, and instinctively tucked her newly adorned hand in her lap at the intrusion. It wasn't that she worried about a stranger's opinion, exactly, but Finn was right - this wasn't for show, this was just for them. Even after the waitress left, she was reluctant to bring her hand out into the open, instead opting to take a sip of her water using her left hand.
"So, what's this I heard about you swearing off coffee?"
The question was so far out of left field that she choked on the water, instinctively raising her right hand as she coughed. Once the attack subsided, she gave Finn a dirty look in response to his unrepentant grin. "Well? Your dad mentioned something about it while I was waiting for you to come down."
She considered the question for a long moment, wondering if he was yanking her chain or if he really had put the matter of the ring out of his head now that it was given and accepted. Judging by the fact that he appeared to be in the process of inhaling his salad even as he changed the topic, she was forced to conclude that, for him, the matter was settled and that was that. Shaking her head softly in wonder at the frustratingly bizarre behavior of men when it came to the strangest things, she picked up her own fork and launched into an explanation of just what, exactly, caffeine could do to your voice if you weren't careful. If nothing else, his voice was good enough to warrant protection, too, and the ring certainly wasn't going anywhere.
~ Finis Part 1/5 ~
Secondary Author's Notes: This is the purchase in question. To clarify, Rachel is given the wedding band. The engagement ring portion of the set? Well, that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish...
'Verse: Vegas 'Verse
Author: ma_raven
Beta: alifab (Drive-By)
Words: 2,100 Words
Spoilers: Pilot through Preggers (01-04)
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairings: Finn/Rachel
Author's Notes: First in a set of 6 scenes (technically, a a 5-piece and a singleton, which sprung out of a "Five Times X and One Time X-1" discussion), built off of the prompt "Five Times Rachel Wore Her Wedding Ring."
Summary: "That was the thing with internet shopping, it didn't seem real until whatever it was you ordered showed up on your doorstep."
Everyone has secrets. It's one of those things that gets learned in middle school, and is never really forgotten. Sometimes people keep them by choice, and sometimes out of fear; either way, a secret's a secret. Like being married to Rachel - that's probably the biggest secret in Finn's life, especially the summer after it happens. Except, there's a part of him that doesn't want it to be a secret. Like, he understands why it is, and he agrees completely, because it's also probably one of the stupidest things he's done in his eighteen years. But that doesn't stop him from browsing for wedding rings at two in the morning after drinking way too much at Kurt's Fourth of July party (in Kurt's defense, Puck brought most of the booze and spiked the Patriotic Punch with grain alcohol). Or, for that matter, from calling the Rothem Collection the next morning and asking about financing options.
Even though his bank account reflected the change, it took a while for Finn to acknowledge what he'd done. That was the thing with internet shopping, it didn't seem real until whatever it was you ordered showed up on your doorstep. Finn was just really, really glad his mom wasn't home when FedEx showed up with the deceptively small package. It took him a week to be willing to open it, and even then he left both of the tiny black boxes shoved in the back of his sock drawer for the rest of the month before cracking it open. Because there was something real about a wedding ring, more real than just a photo and some paperwork, and there was still a big part of him that didn't want this to be real. He'd dealt with real before, could still remember the way his heart had stopped when Quinn told him he was going to be a father, and even if it had later turned out to be less-than-true, in that moment he'd been forced to stare real life straight in the face. Being sixteen, he'd flinched and flinched hard. It wasn't all that much better at eighteen, although practice, as "they" liked to say, was supposed to make perfect. Finn wasn't banking on that particular proverb, but it was better than nothing.
He spent the rest of the summer waffling. Back and forth, back and forth. Too much, not enough, necessary, unwanted. Mr. Schue had told him once that women never turned down jewelry, so Rachel probably wouldn't mind the ring; especially since it should fit her right hand just as well as her left. At the same time, Rachel could be frighteningly unpredictable when it came to "normal" reactions, her pride a creature of its own even at the best of times. They'd agreed that the marriage was just-on-paper, and the only reasons they hadn't divorced were financial. What it boiled down to, after all the mental arguments were in, was that giving her the ring felt right, like owning up to his part of the mess they'd managed to make in the course of one overly sentimental evening.
While great for planning purposes, good intentions and solid rationalizations didn't help the nerves that popped up when he took Rachel out for a goodbye-and-good-luck dinner. They were both tense, sitting in a quiet corner at Mama Maria's and avoiding eye contact as they waited for their meal. Every time one of them broke the silence, the conversation didn't last, and he wondered if maybe they shouldn't just chuck the whole thing. Pick an extreme and run with it, either making good use of the back of her car or just breaking up and getting it over with. They could always play it cool and file for divorce when the need arose. It would be so easy to walk away, but it would hurt like a bad rush, too. He'd enjoyed the summer they had spent joking around and casually dating - just being together, with nothing to prove anymore. He wanted to carry that with him to OSU, that sense of security, and if anything she'd ever told him about showbiz was true, she was going to need all the support she could get when she got to Cincinnati.
"So, um, next weekend, huh?"
She looked up, startled from her current project of dismantling a breadstick one sesame seed at a time. "Yeah, next weekend."
"You ever get ahold of that teacher you kept emailing?"
She smiled, setting down the breadstick. "She answered yesterday morning. They're going to see if I can test out of some of the intro classes, give me more time for performance work. Of course, that throws my whole fall schedule off, but at least they're willing to recognize the value of experience."
He laughed at the combination of enthusiasm and still-not-quite-squished-superiority, relieved to have her re-engaged in the here-and-now. She'd been all-but-gone since the beginning of the week. "That's good, though, right?"
She nodded, picking up the breadstick again and tapping it against her bread plate. "Yes, Finn, it's good." She used her free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and he followed the movement with his gaze, a part of him still fascinated by the changes her now-short hair wrought upon the appearance of her face, even after six weeks of daily viewing.
"Guess it's going to keep you pretty busy, though, all those advanced classes and everything." He turned his attention to his water glass, poking at the lemon slice with his straw. "I've been thinking about it a lot, lately. Things are going to change, aren't they?"
He caught her shrug out of the corner of his eye, and she moved to tuck her hair again even though it hadn't moved. "Yeah, yeah they will."
It was the hesitance in her response that made up his mind, or rather pushed him into action. He'd been figuring dessert, so that the meal wasn't ruined if she got upset, but he wasn't going to relax until the ring had stopped weighing on his mind, and Rachel was showing no signs of truly relaxing at all at this point. "Look, I know things are a little weird - are still a little weird, have been ever since Vegas - but I really like the way things are between us. I like where I see things going, maybe, I don't know. I just, we're going to different schools, different cities. That, it's cool, it makes sense, don't get me wrong." He reached down, fumbling in the pocket of his sport coat until his fingers finally closed around the box. He pulled it out, and set it on the table in front of her. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wanted to make sure that you remember me, you know, when I'm not around."
The sound of Rachel's breadstick hitting the plate seemed to echo, even though he knew that they were far from the only people in the restaurant. She stared at the little black box, a size and shape that every teenaged girl (or woman, for that matter) could recognize in a heartbeat.
"Rachel?" She blinked, expression confused when she turned her attention back to him. However, even as she looked up, her attention was drawn back to the box. "Look, I know you said no rings, and I wasn't going to. I know you think that sometimes I tune you out, and I don't always follow things all that well, but I saw this, and it seemed right. I checked your class ring, so I know it's sized right. And I don't expect, I mean, you don't have to wear it - on either hand. But, I thought you might like to have it, you know?"
She reached out slowly, fingers tentative as she grasped the box, studying it at different angles in the candlelight before finally cracking the seal and looking within. Sitting solemn and silent upon the white faux velvet, the ring looked unbearably perfect in her eyes. "Finn, it's gorgeous. I don't, I mean-" She trailed off as she examined it further.
It wasn't an engagement ring, for which she was grateful, and it wasn't flashy. Given the oddity of their situation, and the likely ramifications if anyone actually found out about it, an engagement ring would raise far more questions than she ever intended to answer. Ever. It was small and delicate, thinner than a traditional wedding band but with just enough sparkle to catch the light. After a long moment, she carefully lifted it from the box and eased it onto the ring finger of her right hand, where it slid comfortably into place. She turned her hand this way and that, watching the light reflect off the tiny inset stones. "Really, I don't know what to say. It's just, it's perfect."
"I'm glad you like it." Finn's soft comment drew her attention back to her dinner partner, and she smiled sheepishly.
"Thank you, Finn. I-" She was interrupted by the arrival of their salads, and instinctively tucked her newly adorned hand in her lap at the intrusion. It wasn't that she worried about a stranger's opinion, exactly, but Finn was right - this wasn't for show, this was just for them. Even after the waitress left, she was reluctant to bring her hand out into the open, instead opting to take a sip of her water using her left hand.
"So, what's this I heard about you swearing off coffee?"
The question was so far out of left field that she choked on the water, instinctively raising her right hand as she coughed. Once the attack subsided, she gave Finn a dirty look in response to his unrepentant grin. "Well? Your dad mentioned something about it while I was waiting for you to come down."
She considered the question for a long moment, wondering if he was yanking her chain or if he really had put the matter of the ring out of his head now that it was given and accepted. Judging by the fact that he appeared to be in the process of inhaling his salad even as he changed the topic, she was forced to conclude that, for him, the matter was settled and that was that. Shaking her head softly in wonder at the frustratingly bizarre behavior of men when it came to the strangest things, she picked up her own fork and launched into an explanation of just what, exactly, caffeine could do to your voice if you weren't careful. If nothing else, his voice was good enough to warrant protection, too, and the ring certainly wasn't going anywhere.
~ Finis Part 1/5 ~
Secondary Author's Notes: This is the purchase in question. To clarify, Rachel is given the wedding band. The engagement ring portion of the set? Well, that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish...