When We Both Let It Go [3/7]
Title: When We Both Let It Go
Chapter: 3/7
Rating: R
Pairing: Finn/Rachel
Summary: He wants her to see how hard he's working to be something. It's supposed to make her proud of him, the Army thing. And plus, he really wanted her to see his progress so that maybe she could admit he's doing something good. For them.
Word Count: 6,400
Disclaimer: Don't own.
German is hard. Like, seriously. And his brutal Spanish doesn't even really help him all that much, not that he knows why he thought it would. He's trying to learn, though, because it'll help him a lot, especially since he's going to be here for a while.
It's pretty easy to settle into life on base. He's living in this apartment or whatever, and it's really nice to have his own space, even if it's small and totally not like, decorated or whatever.
(Rachel's apartment was smaller than this, even, but she had pictures on the walls, and throw pillows and stuff, and colour, and....
And now that he's seen her place, he can easily picture her there, which should be a good thing, only it's distracting as fuck.)
He really tries not to be too miserable, and when people ask him if he's 'okay', he tells them he's just getting used to it here. The time difference and the schedule and how he has to work and stuff. But really, he's missing her still, always, and thinking that he's never hated the Army, and he doesn't, but wishing he had more time with her anyway.
Really, he knows how lucky he was to get any time with her at all.
Some days he can't decide if it would have been worse or better not to, though. What if he hadn't gone to New York? He wouldn't have felt all that love for her and stuff, and it wouldn't be so fucking painful to be away, maybe. He could have just gone on missing her and wondering about her and not known that she's a little slimmer now, and she smells a bit different, and her bed is really comfortable, and she still likes to touch him with the tips of her fingers after sex.
And he's pretty sure she hasn't told anyone, because he doesn't have any angry messages from Kurt. Seriously, the guy'd kill him if he knew Finn and Rachel slept together. It's none of his business. Finn doesn't know what Kurt thinks happened when Finn was in New York, but it doesn't matter. That can stay between Finn and Rachel forever, maybe.
He's grocery shopping, about six months into his posting, when he's comfortable, and getting by in not totally terrible German when he needs to. He's got a few buddies on base again, and he likes it here. It's kind of awesome. Actually, he's done a lot of sight seeing recently, in his time off, because his mom thought it was crazy that he hadn't done much of any of it yet. He took this guided tour with Colletti and they went to see a bunch of castles and stuff. Colletti's an engineer who always wanted to be an architect, so it was cool for him, too. And him and a few of the guys went fishing once, just for fun. They didn't catch anything, but it was good to get out there before everything freezes up again. It's getting colder out and Finn's not really sure of what to expect from winter here.
Anyway, he's in the bakery aisle when a Springsteen song comes on, and fuck yeah. These little tastes of home always hit him sort of hard. Like when he found Mike 'n' Ikes at that little convenience store, or when he and Kohl walked into that bar and found that they had cans of PBR.
So he might get a little carried away.
Um. There's air drumming happening, and he doesn't even...Well, no, he knows he's doing it, but he doesn't realize he shouldn't be until he hears a little laugh and freezes, looks over and sees a girl with a basket hooked over her arm and a sort of amused look on her face.
"Tut mit Leid."
She smiles a little more. "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting a rock show."
Thank god he doesn't have to talk German to this pretty girl or he'd be making even more of an ass of himself.
"It's just, um, it's The Boss," he says, and smiles at her, and yeah, she's like, super cute with her blonde hair pulled back and her wool jacket on. And she's American, or... "Where are you from?"
"Bethlehem." He must look dumb or something, because she laughs and goes, "Pennsylvania."
"Oh." He feels like he should say something else, but can't think of anything. So he just goes, "I'm Finn Hudson."
Her eyes glance down at the right side of his chest. Shit. Of course she knows his last name. It's right in front of her face.
"Meagan," she tells him, then smiles. "I'll see you around, maybe?"
"Yeah. Maybe."
He walks away and looks over his shoulder at her reaching for a loaf of bread, and he wonders if he actually will see her, because he doesn't know anything about her or whatever. She's not in uniform or anything and he doesn't know what she does or how long she's here or anything.
He sort of wishes she wasn't so pretty. And like...Whatever. Maybe there's not a name for it, but she was funny and stuff without being mean to him even though she caught him doing something totally embarrassing. It's hard to find that in girls. Not that he's been looking or anything, but he knows the girls he was friends with in high school, and like, shit. If Santana Lopez ever caught him in a store air drumming to Dancing In The Dark she'd never let him hear the end of it.
He thinks about Meagan too much. Seriously. The last girl he thought about this much...
It's been a while since he thought about a girl this much.
They kind of start dating.
He sees her on base one day, and learns that she does communications and is really just in the Army to get through school, which a lot of people do, and he understands. She tells him that she and her friends are going to this bar, and laughs when he tells her he'll never remember the name of it. She writes it on a Post-It she pulls from a folder she's carrying, and he puts it in his pants pocket. Like, with her own hand. She says, "Don't forget," but he's pretty sure she's just flirting. He's sort of starting to remember what that looks like.
She kisses him first, when they're at the bar and she drags him to the dance floor. His buddies are assholes, so they cheer and clap and act like idiots when she's got her hands linked behind his neck and her body pressed against his. It's weird to kiss someone this height. He doesn't have to bend down so much.
Oh, god. Rachel.
He pulls away from her and she licks her lips and keeps dancing. "You are good at that," she says, like she's thought about it before or something, and he just...
"You are, too," he tells her, and he's not lying.
So yeah. They start doing that more. She makes him dinner once, and he admits that he can't really cook, but he'd like to try to return the favour, so he makes spaghetti and meatballs after his mom emails him the recipe. He learns about Meagan's family, how she's the youngest of five kids and her dad is a pastor and her mom is a teacher. She's got three sisters and one brother who's a Navy Seal or something, which is really fucking intimidating, actually.
They've been out a bunch of times, and kissed a lot, and then they're in her apartment watching a movie and she goes, "Finn," in a way that makes him ask, "What?" even though he can sort of guess from her tone what she wants.
He sort of knows her by now.
"Are you ever going to make a move?" she asks, and then laughs when he pushes her back against the couch.
... ... ...
Rachel goes home for a week in the winter because her dads miss her and she misses them, and it's the holidays.
She doesn't mind being home right now, even though Ohio seems much colder than New York does, and doesn't have the same festive atmosphere to it. A few of her old friends she hasn't seen in a while are home. A few of them get together the second night she's back. Tina and Sam and Artie have all changed, and it's nice to see them growing up like she feels she is.
She really doesn't expect to see Noah Puckerman driving down the street in his mother's car when she's walking through town sipping a latté. He sees her, too, obviously, because he pulls over to the side of the street and gets out. She's smiling as she walks towards him, and then hugs him when she's close enough.
How she ends up on her bed with him isn't even hard to figure out. She's on her way home and he offers her a lift and she invites him in. He's being sweet, and he's just home for a week because it's his grandmother's birthday and the only thing she wanted was for him to come to her party. He's actually listening to her when she talks about her life in New York, and she thinks it's silly that they haven't kept in touch. She asks if he talks to Santana, and he says it doesn't happen very often, but that sometimes they'll talk on Facebook 'or whatever'.
She doesn't know why she kisses him. She honestly doesn't. He just tells her the city is obviously good for her, because she looks 'super hot', and she sort of locks eyes with him as he smirks, and she can't stop herself.
He kisses her back easily, earnestly, and then either she's pushing herself onto her back or he is, but she's lying down and opening her mouth, and he's pulling away and cursing.
"I can't," he says, and it feels so familiar that it makes her think a hundred different things, and most of them aren't even about the man in her room right now.
She touches her lips with her fingertips. "I'm sorry."
She feels foolish. She's only kissed a handful of boys in her life, and she couldn't honestly tell you why she keeps coming back to this one. Probably because she, subconsciously, doesn't think he'll say no. Strange, though, because he seems to always say no. Not that it's a bad thing. He's usually right to do it.
"Look, I know Finn like, moving on must suck for you, but..."
She stares at him. "What?" He says nothing. "Finn..."
Noah just looks at her and she feels like she has no heart left at all.
She's going to cry. She doesn't know anything about this and she's going to cry at just the thought of it, which is ridiculous, because obviously they aren't together and haven't been in ages.
Noah's face just looks...He looks sympathetic, and worried, and like he hates that he has to be the one to tell her this. "You didn't know."
She bites the inside of her lip. "Know what?"
She knows now, obviously, she just wants to hear it.
"He's with someone," Noah tells her, and she swears she's never heard his voice sound like this. She feels her chin tremble and tries to keep her emotions in check. It's likely a lost cause. "It's been a little while."
She looks away from him when she knows the tears are going to fall, and he just puts his hand over hers on the mattress.
"Thank you for telling me," she says, and means it, because obviously her best friend didn't think it was an important thing to mention.
"Want me to stay?"
She shakes her head quickly, then looks at him, and he tilts his head at her when the tears slip from her eyes. "I'm fine." She forces a smile she knows won't do anything to convince him. "Really, you can go."
She just didn't want to tell him to leave.
She ignores all Kurt's calls, tells her dads that if he comes by once he's in town, she doesn't want to see him, and tries to laugh at all the horrible things Santana calls him when they talk on the phone.
She still has a lovely time at home with her fathers for the holidays. She just spends it feeling a lot more sad than she thought she would.
And she's so mad at him. She didn't expect him to find someone else, and she can't even be called crazy or stupid for that. He told her he knew they'd be together again. He practically promised it. Yes, they were just kids at the time, but she was wearing his ring and set to marry him, so yes, she believed what he said. He was 100 per cent sure he was going to end up with her and they'd start their lives together. He said that. He said he was 100 per cent sure.
Now he's with some other girl?
He promised they'd be together, but he can't just wait it out? He needs to mess around with someone else in the meantime? What's the point of that? Why can't he just wait, if he's so sure?
She's mad, and sad, and disappointed, and she sort of hates herself a little bit, for sleeping with him before he left. If she'd known she was just sending him off to find some other girl, she never would have let him kiss her. She never would have told him she loved him.
She's always held out hope that he somehow knew better than she did, had a little more faith that they'd be together when he was done doing what he needed to do.
To know he didn't just makes her hate him a little more every time she thinks about it.
Quinn's reaction to everything, to be honest, is the funniest thing Rachel's ever heard. They're all in Santana's apartment celebrating New Year's Eve, and they're in pajamas and drinking champagne, and obviously they're talking about this because they haven't all been together in person yet since Rachel found out.
"Finn's a shithead," Santana says, as though her word is law.
"No, no, no," Quinn says, shaking her head side to side a few more times than can be considered necessary. "I'm disappointed in Puck."
Rachel wants to laugh at the way she says it, and Santana just looks at Quinn like she's crazy. "Um."
"No, seriously. He won't kiss you because you're Finn's, or whatever, and then he tells you that Finn's dating someone else? That's stupid. He turned down sex with a gorgeous woman because she's emotional? What is he, a girl?"
Watching Santana try not to spit champagne across the room is one of the most hilarious things any of them will ever witness.
"Quinn," Rachel laughs.
"I mean it. He should have just like, screwed the Finn right out of your system."
"This is what I've been telling you all along," Santana says, talking slowly, as if Rachel's a small child.
God, it's been almost three years. If he's not out of her system by now...
... ... ...
He's on what should be a pretty standard intelligence mission. It's not a huge thing, and he's done it before, with the same guys, and gotten what they needed and been back to the base in a matter of hours.
He doesn't even sense that anything's different until it's too late. The only reason he doesn't feel like shit about that later, when he has a chance to think about it, is that none of the guys saw it coming.
The bullet shatters the window of a car parked directly to Finn's left. They all get down and find cover, draw their weapons and keep their eyes open.
Honestly, Finn's training just kicks in and he locates the shooter. He waits - doesn't hesitate, but waits - before taking the shot, just to make sure this is actually an enemy, and the shooter puts his eye back on the site of his rifle.
Finn pulls the trigger without a second thought.
He's never killed anyone before. It feels like shit.
Meagan doesn't really get it, and like, he can't expect her to. It'd be nice if she did, though. It'd be way better.
But she's awesome, though. She gives him space when he needs it and she's there when he needs that. And when he thanks her for that, she just sort of smiles and pushes her hand through his hair, kisses him quickly and says, "Of course," as if he was supposed to expect anything else.
... ... ...
Carmen calls Rachel into her office in the middle of February and Rachel immediately worries that she's not doing something she should be, or is doing something se shouldn't be. Being called to Carmen's office is the equivalent of being sent to court. She doesn't tell anyone she's been summoned because she doesn't want them to speculate awful reasons why she's being asked to go.
"Sit, please."
Rachel does as she's told and waits a few seconds for Carmen to be finished with her work, to look up at Rachel.
"Relax," Carmen says, laughing, and Rachel lets herself breathe. Her heart's beating hard against her ribs. "I've recommended you for a role."
Breathing gets hard. "What?"
"You have to audition, obviously. I can't do everything for you. And I don't want you to leave the school. But it's Dirty Dancing, and I know the director."
"I'm..." She stops talking because she can't find words.
Carmen looks at her seriously. "It's just an audition." Rachel nods quickly. "Do not get your hopes up."
"Okay."
"They'll likely go with a name. They won't want a student in a lead role." Rachel nods again. Carmen does this thing where she builds you up and then tears you down, and somehow still manages to be inspiring. It's weird. "But that doesn't mean you're not right for it. I wouldn't have done this for you if you weren't."
"I understand. Thank you."
She's nervous as she waits. There are actual actresses here who've had lead roles on Broadway and The West End. She's watched one or two of them before, from the audience. Sitting outside the audition room is making her anxious, so she's glad she doesn't have to do it long. She goes in fourth of all the girls waiting, and smiles at the group of people behind that long table as she hands the pianist her music.
And no, she doesn't choke.
The director actually grins a little, when she's done, and says, "Very nice, Rachel."
"Thank you."
He winks at her on the way out, too, but it's not sleazy or anything.
She doesn't get the part, but the director calls her personally to tell her he was really impressed, and that Carmen was right and he knew that she'd send him something special. Her heart constricts a little at those words. He tells her to please keep auditioning, because people deserve the privilege of hearing her sing.
She can't imagine a better experience.
(Well, maybe if she'd gotten the part.)
She's still not talking to Kurt, but she has to tell him about this. She dials his number and gets his voicemail.
She doesn't leave a message.
... ... ...
Meagan tells him she loves him. It's stupid that it's a surprise, because they've been together a while now.
He says it back, and it's not that he doesn't love her, it's just that...
He's used to love being this crazy strong thing. He's used to not knowing how to live without someone. He's used to thinking about her every second. He's used to wanting a future he's already got mapped out. He's used to a ring on her hand. He's used to Rachel and all her intensity pouring over into how much he loves her back.
He hardly thinks of Rachel at all anymore.
He's depressed, just realizing that.
... ... ...
She comes to a very powerful realization and goes to the only person she thinks will not only understand, but actually help her do something about it.
Maybe walking into Santana's apartment and announcing, "I want to have sex," is not the best way to approach this.
Because Santana answers, "With me?" with her eyes all wide, and...
"No."
"Um."
Rachel rolls her eyes. "The only man I've ever been with is Finn. That needs to change."
The grin Santana gets on her face face is not something Rachel trusts in the slightest.
They go to this ridiculous club, and Rachel's wearing one of Santana's tops, which definitely does not fit her the way it's supposed to. It's low cut in the front and she's, frankly, a little worried that her breasts may become exposed at some point in the evening. And Santana saying, "Well, yeah. That's the whole fucking idea, babe," doesn't put her at ease whatsoever.
Santana obviously thinks she's helping, and Rachel doesn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. So she accepts the drinks these ridiculous men offer her, and ends up a little drunk and a little clingy. To Santana. Because she's not having a drunken one night stand. That wasn't at all what she was angling for when she confessed to Santana that she wanted to have sex.
What she wants is a boyfriend again. She wants someone she can share things with. Things including, but not limited to, sex. She misses the every day intimacy that comes with being close with someone.
And she needs to move on. She's not hanging on to Finn any more, but she hasn't completely let go either.
She's ready to, though.
She doesn't crave him any more.
The bottom line is, when she thinks that she wants someone with her, a boyfriend and a companion, it's not always him she pictures anymore.
She starts looking for it a little more. She goes on a bind date one of her friends from school sets her up on. And it's not bad, but there's not a lot of chemistry between her and this guy. She manages to drag Santana to a speed dating event, which is hilarious because Santana's a lesbian and watching her talk to these men is easily the best thing to come out of the evening. Santana, of course, says things like, "You see the shit I do for you?" and Rachel wonders if there's anything they wouldn't do for each other at this poing. When she has free time, they go to bars, different kinds of bars, and she talks to the men who offer her drinks. She lets a few of them kiss her, but it doesn't go further than that, because she's not going to compromise what she wants just so she can be sexually satisfied. No matter what her friends are encouraging her to do.
She's looking for it, and finding nothing.
It sort of falls in her lap.
She's walking through Manhattan a week before classes end, wearing a floral dress that's short enough that she almost didn't buy it. She's coming back from her private vocal lesson and is on her way to the library where she's meeting a friend to go over notes for the final they're taking tomorrow.
New York's streets are loud and bustling all the time, and so when she hears someone say, "Hey," she thinks nothing of it. She's gotten good at tuning out the noise around her, so she just keeps walking.
She hears it again, though, and then someone's touching her arm and she's spinning around.
"I know you," he says.
She's confused, because while he looks vaguely familiar, she certainly doesn't know him. "I...I think you're mistaking me for someone else."
He smiles a bit, and dear god, he's beautiful. His eyes are impossible not to look at, blue contrasted against his dark skin, and this smile he wears that's just so open, and...
"I photographed you once. Your friend is...What's her name?"
"Oh, my god!" Rachel says, too loudly, and then laughs. Ages ago in the park with that dog and the mittens and Santana. He's the photographer who took one of her favourite pictures of her with her friend. "Yes. I remember now." His smile grows and she realizes he's stopped touching her arm. She's distracted by his beautiful face. "That was forever ago."
Yes, she says it like she's wondering how on earth he remembers, because she obviously didn't, and how in the world...
"How could I forget a beautiful girl like you?" he asks, and she feels like a teenaged girl, unsure of what to say in response to that. "I'm Michael."
"Rachel." She shakes his hand when he offers it. He holds it a little too long, but she really doesn't mind. She notices, then, the camera bag slung over his shoulder. Honestly, looking like he does, she can't believe he's behind the camera and not in front of it.
"Are you busy right now?"
"I'm...Yes, actually. I'm off to study for a final."
"NYU?"
She smiles and shakes her head. "NYADA." His brows go up and he smirks at her like he's impressed. "I'm sorry. I'm really in a rush."
He laughs a bit, then pulls his phone from his pocket. "It'll only take a couple seconds to put your number in my phone."
He's so confident, so charming, and she finds that it wouldn't be the worst thing to see more of him.
She agrees to let him take her out to dinner after the school year is done. She hasn't gotten her final marks yet, but she feels good about her exams and final performances, and she's been top of her class the last two years and has no reason to believe she won't be for a third time, too.
They meet at the restaurant, because she's not totally comfortable with him knowing where she lives. You can't be too safe in this city. Actually, Santana is going to call her later to make sure she gets home all right. Maybe she's paranoid, but she hasn't exactly done a lot of dating in New York, and she just wants to be comfortable. This helps.
The first thing Michael does, on the street in front of the restaurant, is kiss her cheek and say she looks gorgeous.
She already feels as though she likes him too much. And she barely knows anything about him.
She learns that he's from Boston and moved to New York to attend a tiny little photography school that's prestigious and only accepts 20 students per year. It's basically NYADA for photographers, and it's impressive. He talks about attending the school and being away from home for the first time, and how he's only been back to Boston a handful of times in the last 10 years.
Which is reason for pause.
"Wait," she says, tilting her head. "How old are you?" Then she realizes that's likely rude, even though he's chuckling there across from her. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be blunt, it's just...You said you moved here when you were 18, and then..."
"It's okay," he laughs, then takes a sip of his wine. He chose it and it's lovely, she must admit. "I'm 32."
It makes her more nervous than it should. "Oh."
"Why?" he asks, then sort of leans towards her, arms on the table. "How old are you?"
She gives him a look. "You know I just finished my junior year of college, and I'm sitting here, legally able to drink wine with you." He laughs a bit, again. She likes making him laugh. "You're quite a bit older than me."
"Is that a problem for you?"
She bites her lip, notices him looking at her mouth, and god, she would not mind if he kissed her tonight.
She answers his question honestly; "I don't know yet."
He smiles at her across the table and she knows he's just watching her blush.
He kisses the corner of her mouth, his lips just barely touching hers, as the cab pulls up to the curb. She wants more but she's afraid of looking desperate, so she just slides her hand down his arm as he pulls away, and asks, "Can I see you again?" He gives her a look like she's silly for asking.
They go for coffee next, when he's got a day off in the middle of the week, and they sit on the patio of this little café and talk. He tells her more about his work, how he's basically got contracts with an ad agency and a couple magazines and that's how he earns his living, but how fine art photography is his love, it's just a lot harder to make money at it. He shows and sells pieces, but he likes the comfort of a steady income, and he's really busy because of it. He'll shoot weddings, too, if the price is right, but he doesn't enjoy it.
After that, she's running through the park, terribly sweaty and wearing a bra top and tight shorts, and she sees him shooting what appears to be some sort of clothing ad or whatever. She doesn't stop, but she waves and he waves back, then texts her to say he really wished he could have taken a picture of her looking so hot in her Nike workout gear.
There's another dinner, then a walk down Fifth Avenue because she likes how it feels on that side of town.
He actually kisses her that night, at an intersection when they're waiting to cross the street. They've been holding hands, which she boldly initiated, and he steps in front of her, sets his hand on her cheek and leans down. She wants to say his name, but he kisses her before she can.
He takes her to his apartment, and she's so comfortable with him by this point that the prospect of being alone with him in his space doesn't even scare her.
She mostly just wants him to kiss her again.
They're on his sofa, with Coltrane playing in the background, and he murmurs something against her neck about how gorgeous she is. It makes her moan, and her whole body arches up against his.
He pulls away and leans up on his hand, brushes her hair back, then slides his fingertips across her collarbone, then tugs down the thin strap of her dress.
"God, someone really dropped the ball with you," he says, in a low quiet tone she really can't even make herself respond to. "You have no idea how amazing you are."
She puts her hand on the back of his neck and pulls him down towards her again.
It's not that she doesn't know. It's just been a long time since someone else did.
She doesn't know if she's being sexy or not - she's trying - when she says, "Michael, let's go to your room," but he takes her by the hand, then the hips, once she's standing, and really, sleeping with him...
It doesn't feel scary, or like it's too soon, or like she shouldn't. It just feels good.
... ... ...
Meagan walks into his place and shoves a piece of paper against his chest, which is really just confusing. He doesn't think he did anything wrong, but she seems really upset and stuff, and then tells him to just read it and he thinks she's either been crying, or she's about to do it.
So he reads it, because it's better than looking at her right now.
"What...What does this mean?" he asks, though he's pretty sure he gets the gist of it.
"They're sending me back to the States." Her chin sort of starts to wobble and he doesn't know what the fuck to do. Honestly, in his head he knew this was a possibility, obviously, but he tried not to think about it. Now he wishes he had, because she's gonna be gone in a week and he doesn't know how to deal with this. "Finn."
Shit, she's crying.
He drops the letter on his table and walks over to her, wraps her up in his arms and hears her say she loves him, even though it's all muffled by his shirt.
He doesn't know what to do. This is familiar and not at all, all at once. "Shh." He strokes her hair a bit, feels her hands grab at his shirt. "It's okay. We knew...We knew this could happen."
They knew it, they just never talked about it. That feels really stupid now.
"I don't wanna go."
"I know."
"I love you."
He repeats, "I know," because he's starting to wonder if it even matters if he loves her back. Then he feels like a dick, so he says, "Love you, too."
The next week seriously blows. Her friends all want to say goodbye to her, which is obvious, and he can see her trying to put on a brave face (and when he calls her on it, when they're alone, she just says, "Army strong, Finn," and makes it a joke when it doesn't have to be). She works right up until two days before she's leaving, and they spend her whole last night in his apartment - hers is all packed up and mostly empty.
They're in his bed and they've had sex already tonight. It's dark out and she's just lying there next to him with her head on his chest and his hand playing with her hair.
"We can make this work, right?" she asks, and no, they haven't talked about it, mostly because she's been busy and he's been working and he doesn't know what to say anyway.
She looks up at him, eyes sort of shining in the light coming from the window.
And he says, "Yeah," and means it.
He has no fucking clue how to make it work, but he means it.
She sits up a bit, holds the sheet against her and actually smiles for what seems like the first time all week. "We can email. And Skype." He nods at her. She looks really pretty right now, all happy. "It'll be hard," she says, sounding more serious, and setting her hand on his chest right over his heart. He covers it with his. "But I really don't want to lose this."
"Yeah," he says again, and then pulls her on top of him and kisses her. "Me neither." Her legs settle on either side of his hips and he pushes his hand up into her hair. "We'll make it work."
He's working when she leaves base to head back overseas, so he can't really see her off, and it just gets him thinking about the last time he said goodbye to someone who was going away.
And he can't, not for the life of him, figure out why he's doing the long distance thing with Meagan when he wouldn't do it with Rachel.
He can't sleep for thinking about it, and what he comes up with, which might not even be right, is that he's not holding Meagan back from anything.
And fuck, there's this other thing, too, where he thinks that if their relationship falls apart with all the distance between them, it won't break his heart the way it would have if he'd lost Rachel that way.
Chapter: 3/7
Rating: R
Pairing: Finn/Rachel
Summary: He wants her to see how hard he's working to be something. It's supposed to make her proud of him, the Army thing. And plus, he really wanted her to see his progress so that maybe she could admit he's doing something good. For them.
Word Count: 6,400
Disclaimer: Don't own.
German is hard. Like, seriously. And his brutal Spanish doesn't even really help him all that much, not that he knows why he thought it would. He's trying to learn, though, because it'll help him a lot, especially since he's going to be here for a while.
It's pretty easy to settle into life on base. He's living in this apartment or whatever, and it's really nice to have his own space, even if it's small and totally not like, decorated or whatever.
(Rachel's apartment was smaller than this, even, but she had pictures on the walls, and throw pillows and stuff, and colour, and....
And now that he's seen her place, he can easily picture her there, which should be a good thing, only it's distracting as fuck.)
He really tries not to be too miserable, and when people ask him if he's 'okay', he tells them he's just getting used to it here. The time difference and the schedule and how he has to work and stuff. But really, he's missing her still, always, and thinking that he's never hated the Army, and he doesn't, but wishing he had more time with her anyway.
Really, he knows how lucky he was to get any time with her at all.
Some days he can't decide if it would have been worse or better not to, though. What if he hadn't gone to New York? He wouldn't have felt all that love for her and stuff, and it wouldn't be so fucking painful to be away, maybe. He could have just gone on missing her and wondering about her and not known that she's a little slimmer now, and she smells a bit different, and her bed is really comfortable, and she still likes to touch him with the tips of her fingers after sex.
And he's pretty sure she hasn't told anyone, because he doesn't have any angry messages from Kurt. Seriously, the guy'd kill him if he knew Finn and Rachel slept together. It's none of his business. Finn doesn't know what Kurt thinks happened when Finn was in New York, but it doesn't matter. That can stay between Finn and Rachel forever, maybe.
He's grocery shopping, about six months into his posting, when he's comfortable, and getting by in not totally terrible German when he needs to. He's got a few buddies on base again, and he likes it here. It's kind of awesome. Actually, he's done a lot of sight seeing recently, in his time off, because his mom thought it was crazy that he hadn't done much of any of it yet. He took this guided tour with Colletti and they went to see a bunch of castles and stuff. Colletti's an engineer who always wanted to be an architect, so it was cool for him, too. And him and a few of the guys went fishing once, just for fun. They didn't catch anything, but it was good to get out there before everything freezes up again. It's getting colder out and Finn's not really sure of what to expect from winter here.
Anyway, he's in the bakery aisle when a Springsteen song comes on, and fuck yeah. These little tastes of home always hit him sort of hard. Like when he found Mike 'n' Ikes at that little convenience store, or when he and Kohl walked into that bar and found that they had cans of PBR.
So he might get a little carried away.
Um. There's air drumming happening, and he doesn't even...Well, no, he knows he's doing it, but he doesn't realize he shouldn't be until he hears a little laugh and freezes, looks over and sees a girl with a basket hooked over her arm and a sort of amused look on her face.
"Tut mit Leid."
She smiles a little more. "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting a rock show."
Thank god he doesn't have to talk German to this pretty girl or he'd be making even more of an ass of himself.
"It's just, um, it's The Boss," he says, and smiles at her, and yeah, she's like, super cute with her blonde hair pulled back and her wool jacket on. And she's American, or... "Where are you from?"
"Bethlehem." He must look dumb or something, because she laughs and goes, "Pennsylvania."
"Oh." He feels like he should say something else, but can't think of anything. So he just goes, "I'm Finn Hudson."
Her eyes glance down at the right side of his chest. Shit. Of course she knows his last name. It's right in front of her face.
"Meagan," she tells him, then smiles. "I'll see you around, maybe?"
"Yeah. Maybe."
He walks away and looks over his shoulder at her reaching for a loaf of bread, and he wonders if he actually will see her, because he doesn't know anything about her or whatever. She's not in uniform or anything and he doesn't know what she does or how long she's here or anything.
He sort of wishes she wasn't so pretty. And like...Whatever. Maybe there's not a name for it, but she was funny and stuff without being mean to him even though she caught him doing something totally embarrassing. It's hard to find that in girls. Not that he's been looking or anything, but he knows the girls he was friends with in high school, and like, shit. If Santana Lopez ever caught him in a store air drumming to Dancing In The Dark she'd never let him hear the end of it.
He thinks about Meagan too much. Seriously. The last girl he thought about this much...
It's been a while since he thought about a girl this much.
They kind of start dating.
He sees her on base one day, and learns that she does communications and is really just in the Army to get through school, which a lot of people do, and he understands. She tells him that she and her friends are going to this bar, and laughs when he tells her he'll never remember the name of it. She writes it on a Post-It she pulls from a folder she's carrying, and he puts it in his pants pocket. Like, with her own hand. She says, "Don't forget," but he's pretty sure she's just flirting. He's sort of starting to remember what that looks like.
She kisses him first, when they're at the bar and she drags him to the dance floor. His buddies are assholes, so they cheer and clap and act like idiots when she's got her hands linked behind his neck and her body pressed against his. It's weird to kiss someone this height. He doesn't have to bend down so much.
Oh, god. Rachel.
He pulls away from her and she licks her lips and keeps dancing. "You are good at that," she says, like she's thought about it before or something, and he just...
"You are, too," he tells her, and he's not lying.
So yeah. They start doing that more. She makes him dinner once, and he admits that he can't really cook, but he'd like to try to return the favour, so he makes spaghetti and meatballs after his mom emails him the recipe. He learns about Meagan's family, how she's the youngest of five kids and her dad is a pastor and her mom is a teacher. She's got three sisters and one brother who's a Navy Seal or something, which is really fucking intimidating, actually.
They've been out a bunch of times, and kissed a lot, and then they're in her apartment watching a movie and she goes, "Finn," in a way that makes him ask, "What?" even though he can sort of guess from her tone what she wants.
He sort of knows her by now.
"Are you ever going to make a move?" she asks, and then laughs when he pushes her back against the couch.
... ... ...
Rachel goes home for a week in the winter because her dads miss her and she misses them, and it's the holidays.
She doesn't mind being home right now, even though Ohio seems much colder than New York does, and doesn't have the same festive atmosphere to it. A few of her old friends she hasn't seen in a while are home. A few of them get together the second night she's back. Tina and Sam and Artie have all changed, and it's nice to see them growing up like she feels she is.
She really doesn't expect to see Noah Puckerman driving down the street in his mother's car when she's walking through town sipping a latté. He sees her, too, obviously, because he pulls over to the side of the street and gets out. She's smiling as she walks towards him, and then hugs him when she's close enough.
How she ends up on her bed with him isn't even hard to figure out. She's on her way home and he offers her a lift and she invites him in. He's being sweet, and he's just home for a week because it's his grandmother's birthday and the only thing she wanted was for him to come to her party. He's actually listening to her when she talks about her life in New York, and she thinks it's silly that they haven't kept in touch. She asks if he talks to Santana, and he says it doesn't happen very often, but that sometimes they'll talk on Facebook 'or whatever'.
She doesn't know why she kisses him. She honestly doesn't. He just tells her the city is obviously good for her, because she looks 'super hot', and she sort of locks eyes with him as he smirks, and she can't stop herself.
He kisses her back easily, earnestly, and then either she's pushing herself onto her back or he is, but she's lying down and opening her mouth, and he's pulling away and cursing.
"I can't," he says, and it feels so familiar that it makes her think a hundred different things, and most of them aren't even about the man in her room right now.
She touches her lips with her fingertips. "I'm sorry."
She feels foolish. She's only kissed a handful of boys in her life, and she couldn't honestly tell you why she keeps coming back to this one. Probably because she, subconsciously, doesn't think he'll say no. Strange, though, because he seems to always say no. Not that it's a bad thing. He's usually right to do it.
"Look, I know Finn like, moving on must suck for you, but..."
She stares at him. "What?" He says nothing. "Finn..."
Noah just looks at her and she feels like she has no heart left at all.
She's going to cry. She doesn't know anything about this and she's going to cry at just the thought of it, which is ridiculous, because obviously they aren't together and haven't been in ages.
Noah's face just looks...He looks sympathetic, and worried, and like he hates that he has to be the one to tell her this. "You didn't know."
She bites the inside of her lip. "Know what?"
She knows now, obviously, she just wants to hear it.
"He's with someone," Noah tells her, and she swears she's never heard his voice sound like this. She feels her chin tremble and tries to keep her emotions in check. It's likely a lost cause. "It's been a little while."
She looks away from him when she knows the tears are going to fall, and he just puts his hand over hers on the mattress.
"Thank you for telling me," she says, and means it, because obviously her best friend didn't think it was an important thing to mention.
"Want me to stay?"
She shakes her head quickly, then looks at him, and he tilts his head at her when the tears slip from her eyes. "I'm fine." She forces a smile she knows won't do anything to convince him. "Really, you can go."
She just didn't want to tell him to leave.
She ignores all Kurt's calls, tells her dads that if he comes by once he's in town, she doesn't want to see him, and tries to laugh at all the horrible things Santana calls him when they talk on the phone.
She still has a lovely time at home with her fathers for the holidays. She just spends it feeling a lot more sad than she thought she would.
And she's so mad at him. She didn't expect him to find someone else, and she can't even be called crazy or stupid for that. He told her he knew they'd be together again. He practically promised it. Yes, they were just kids at the time, but she was wearing his ring and set to marry him, so yes, she believed what he said. He was 100 per cent sure he was going to end up with her and they'd start their lives together. He said that. He said he was 100 per cent sure.
Now he's with some other girl?
He promised they'd be together, but he can't just wait it out? He needs to mess around with someone else in the meantime? What's the point of that? Why can't he just wait, if he's so sure?
She's mad, and sad, and disappointed, and she sort of hates herself a little bit, for sleeping with him before he left. If she'd known she was just sending him off to find some other girl, she never would have let him kiss her. She never would have told him she loved him.
She's always held out hope that he somehow knew better than she did, had a little more faith that they'd be together when he was done doing what he needed to do.
To know he didn't just makes her hate him a little more every time she thinks about it.
Quinn's reaction to everything, to be honest, is the funniest thing Rachel's ever heard. They're all in Santana's apartment celebrating New Year's Eve, and they're in pajamas and drinking champagne, and obviously they're talking about this because they haven't all been together in person yet since Rachel found out.
"Finn's a shithead," Santana says, as though her word is law.
"No, no, no," Quinn says, shaking her head side to side a few more times than can be considered necessary. "I'm disappointed in Puck."
Rachel wants to laugh at the way she says it, and Santana just looks at Quinn like she's crazy. "Um."
"No, seriously. He won't kiss you because you're Finn's, or whatever, and then he tells you that Finn's dating someone else? That's stupid. He turned down sex with a gorgeous woman because she's emotional? What is he, a girl?"
Watching Santana try not to spit champagne across the room is one of the most hilarious things any of them will ever witness.
"Quinn," Rachel laughs.
"I mean it. He should have just like, screwed the Finn right out of your system."
"This is what I've been telling you all along," Santana says, talking slowly, as if Rachel's a small child.
God, it's been almost three years. If he's not out of her system by now...
... ... ...
He's on what should be a pretty standard intelligence mission. It's not a huge thing, and he's done it before, with the same guys, and gotten what they needed and been back to the base in a matter of hours.
He doesn't even sense that anything's different until it's too late. The only reason he doesn't feel like shit about that later, when he has a chance to think about it, is that none of the guys saw it coming.
The bullet shatters the window of a car parked directly to Finn's left. They all get down and find cover, draw their weapons and keep their eyes open.
Honestly, Finn's training just kicks in and he locates the shooter. He waits - doesn't hesitate, but waits - before taking the shot, just to make sure this is actually an enemy, and the shooter puts his eye back on the site of his rifle.
Finn pulls the trigger without a second thought.
He's never killed anyone before. It feels like shit.
Meagan doesn't really get it, and like, he can't expect her to. It'd be nice if she did, though. It'd be way better.
But she's awesome, though. She gives him space when he needs it and she's there when he needs that. And when he thanks her for that, she just sort of smiles and pushes her hand through his hair, kisses him quickly and says, "Of course," as if he was supposed to expect anything else.
... ... ...
Carmen calls Rachel into her office in the middle of February and Rachel immediately worries that she's not doing something she should be, or is doing something se shouldn't be. Being called to Carmen's office is the equivalent of being sent to court. She doesn't tell anyone she's been summoned because she doesn't want them to speculate awful reasons why she's being asked to go.
"Sit, please."
Rachel does as she's told and waits a few seconds for Carmen to be finished with her work, to look up at Rachel.
"Relax," Carmen says, laughing, and Rachel lets herself breathe. Her heart's beating hard against her ribs. "I've recommended you for a role."
Breathing gets hard. "What?"
"You have to audition, obviously. I can't do everything for you. And I don't want you to leave the school. But it's Dirty Dancing, and I know the director."
"I'm..." She stops talking because she can't find words.
Carmen looks at her seriously. "It's just an audition." Rachel nods quickly. "Do not get your hopes up."
"Okay."
"They'll likely go with a name. They won't want a student in a lead role." Rachel nods again. Carmen does this thing where she builds you up and then tears you down, and somehow still manages to be inspiring. It's weird. "But that doesn't mean you're not right for it. I wouldn't have done this for you if you weren't."
"I understand. Thank you."
She's nervous as she waits. There are actual actresses here who've had lead roles on Broadway and The West End. She's watched one or two of them before, from the audience. Sitting outside the audition room is making her anxious, so she's glad she doesn't have to do it long. She goes in fourth of all the girls waiting, and smiles at the group of people behind that long table as she hands the pianist her music.
And no, she doesn't choke.
The director actually grins a little, when she's done, and says, "Very nice, Rachel."
"Thank you."
He winks at her on the way out, too, but it's not sleazy or anything.
She doesn't get the part, but the director calls her personally to tell her he was really impressed, and that Carmen was right and he knew that she'd send him something special. Her heart constricts a little at those words. He tells her to please keep auditioning, because people deserve the privilege of hearing her sing.
She can't imagine a better experience.
(Well, maybe if she'd gotten the part.)
She's still not talking to Kurt, but she has to tell him about this. She dials his number and gets his voicemail.
She doesn't leave a message.
... ... ...
Meagan tells him she loves him. It's stupid that it's a surprise, because they've been together a while now.
He says it back, and it's not that he doesn't love her, it's just that...
He's used to love being this crazy strong thing. He's used to not knowing how to live without someone. He's used to thinking about her every second. He's used to wanting a future he's already got mapped out. He's used to a ring on her hand. He's used to Rachel and all her intensity pouring over into how much he loves her back.
He hardly thinks of Rachel at all anymore.
He's depressed, just realizing that.
... ... ...
She comes to a very powerful realization and goes to the only person she thinks will not only understand, but actually help her do something about it.
Maybe walking into Santana's apartment and announcing, "I want to have sex," is not the best way to approach this.
Because Santana answers, "With me?" with her eyes all wide, and...
"No."
"Um."
Rachel rolls her eyes. "The only man I've ever been with is Finn. That needs to change."
The grin Santana gets on her face face is not something Rachel trusts in the slightest.
They go to this ridiculous club, and Rachel's wearing one of Santana's tops, which definitely does not fit her the way it's supposed to. It's low cut in the front and she's, frankly, a little worried that her breasts may become exposed at some point in the evening. And Santana saying, "Well, yeah. That's the whole fucking idea, babe," doesn't put her at ease whatsoever.
Santana obviously thinks she's helping, and Rachel doesn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. So she accepts the drinks these ridiculous men offer her, and ends up a little drunk and a little clingy. To Santana. Because she's not having a drunken one night stand. That wasn't at all what she was angling for when she confessed to Santana that she wanted to have sex.
What she wants is a boyfriend again. She wants someone she can share things with. Things including, but not limited to, sex. She misses the every day intimacy that comes with being close with someone.
And she needs to move on. She's not hanging on to Finn any more, but she hasn't completely let go either.
She's ready to, though.
She doesn't crave him any more.
The bottom line is, when she thinks that she wants someone with her, a boyfriend and a companion, it's not always him she pictures anymore.
She starts looking for it a little more. She goes on a bind date one of her friends from school sets her up on. And it's not bad, but there's not a lot of chemistry between her and this guy. She manages to drag Santana to a speed dating event, which is hilarious because Santana's a lesbian and watching her talk to these men is easily the best thing to come out of the evening. Santana, of course, says things like, "You see the shit I do for you?" and Rachel wonders if there's anything they wouldn't do for each other at this poing. When she has free time, they go to bars, different kinds of bars, and she talks to the men who offer her drinks. She lets a few of them kiss her, but it doesn't go further than that, because she's not going to compromise what she wants just so she can be sexually satisfied. No matter what her friends are encouraging her to do.
She's looking for it, and finding nothing.
It sort of falls in her lap.
She's walking through Manhattan a week before classes end, wearing a floral dress that's short enough that she almost didn't buy it. She's coming back from her private vocal lesson and is on her way to the library where she's meeting a friend to go over notes for the final they're taking tomorrow.
New York's streets are loud and bustling all the time, and so when she hears someone say, "Hey," she thinks nothing of it. She's gotten good at tuning out the noise around her, so she just keeps walking.
She hears it again, though, and then someone's touching her arm and she's spinning around.
"I know you," he says.
She's confused, because while he looks vaguely familiar, she certainly doesn't know him. "I...I think you're mistaking me for someone else."
He smiles a bit, and dear god, he's beautiful. His eyes are impossible not to look at, blue contrasted against his dark skin, and this smile he wears that's just so open, and...
"I photographed you once. Your friend is...What's her name?"
"Oh, my god!" Rachel says, too loudly, and then laughs. Ages ago in the park with that dog and the mittens and Santana. He's the photographer who took one of her favourite pictures of her with her friend. "Yes. I remember now." His smile grows and she realizes he's stopped touching her arm. She's distracted by his beautiful face. "That was forever ago."
Yes, she says it like she's wondering how on earth he remembers, because she obviously didn't, and how in the world...
"How could I forget a beautiful girl like you?" he asks, and she feels like a teenaged girl, unsure of what to say in response to that. "I'm Michael."
"Rachel." She shakes his hand when he offers it. He holds it a little too long, but she really doesn't mind. She notices, then, the camera bag slung over his shoulder. Honestly, looking like he does, she can't believe he's behind the camera and not in front of it.
"Are you busy right now?"
"I'm...Yes, actually. I'm off to study for a final."
"NYU?"
She smiles and shakes her head. "NYADA." His brows go up and he smirks at her like he's impressed. "I'm sorry. I'm really in a rush."
He laughs a bit, then pulls his phone from his pocket. "It'll only take a couple seconds to put your number in my phone."
He's so confident, so charming, and she finds that it wouldn't be the worst thing to see more of him.
She agrees to let him take her out to dinner after the school year is done. She hasn't gotten her final marks yet, but she feels good about her exams and final performances, and she's been top of her class the last two years and has no reason to believe she won't be for a third time, too.
They meet at the restaurant, because she's not totally comfortable with him knowing where she lives. You can't be too safe in this city. Actually, Santana is going to call her later to make sure she gets home all right. Maybe she's paranoid, but she hasn't exactly done a lot of dating in New York, and she just wants to be comfortable. This helps.
The first thing Michael does, on the street in front of the restaurant, is kiss her cheek and say she looks gorgeous.
She already feels as though she likes him too much. And she barely knows anything about him.
She learns that he's from Boston and moved to New York to attend a tiny little photography school that's prestigious and only accepts 20 students per year. It's basically NYADA for photographers, and it's impressive. He talks about attending the school and being away from home for the first time, and how he's only been back to Boston a handful of times in the last 10 years.
Which is reason for pause.
"Wait," she says, tilting her head. "How old are you?" Then she realizes that's likely rude, even though he's chuckling there across from her. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be blunt, it's just...You said you moved here when you were 18, and then..."
"It's okay," he laughs, then takes a sip of his wine. He chose it and it's lovely, she must admit. "I'm 32."
It makes her more nervous than it should. "Oh."
"Why?" he asks, then sort of leans towards her, arms on the table. "How old are you?"
She gives him a look. "You know I just finished my junior year of college, and I'm sitting here, legally able to drink wine with you." He laughs a bit, again. She likes making him laugh. "You're quite a bit older than me."
"Is that a problem for you?"
She bites her lip, notices him looking at her mouth, and god, she would not mind if he kissed her tonight.
She answers his question honestly; "I don't know yet."
He smiles at her across the table and she knows he's just watching her blush.
He kisses the corner of her mouth, his lips just barely touching hers, as the cab pulls up to the curb. She wants more but she's afraid of looking desperate, so she just slides her hand down his arm as he pulls away, and asks, "Can I see you again?" He gives her a look like she's silly for asking.
They go for coffee next, when he's got a day off in the middle of the week, and they sit on the patio of this little café and talk. He tells her more about his work, how he's basically got contracts with an ad agency and a couple magazines and that's how he earns his living, but how fine art photography is his love, it's just a lot harder to make money at it. He shows and sells pieces, but he likes the comfort of a steady income, and he's really busy because of it. He'll shoot weddings, too, if the price is right, but he doesn't enjoy it.
After that, she's running through the park, terribly sweaty and wearing a bra top and tight shorts, and she sees him shooting what appears to be some sort of clothing ad or whatever. She doesn't stop, but she waves and he waves back, then texts her to say he really wished he could have taken a picture of her looking so hot in her Nike workout gear.
There's another dinner, then a walk down Fifth Avenue because she likes how it feels on that side of town.
He actually kisses her that night, at an intersection when they're waiting to cross the street. They've been holding hands, which she boldly initiated, and he steps in front of her, sets his hand on her cheek and leans down. She wants to say his name, but he kisses her before she can.
He takes her to his apartment, and she's so comfortable with him by this point that the prospect of being alone with him in his space doesn't even scare her.
She mostly just wants him to kiss her again.
They're on his sofa, with Coltrane playing in the background, and he murmurs something against her neck about how gorgeous she is. It makes her moan, and her whole body arches up against his.
He pulls away and leans up on his hand, brushes her hair back, then slides his fingertips across her collarbone, then tugs down the thin strap of her dress.
"God, someone really dropped the ball with you," he says, in a low quiet tone she really can't even make herself respond to. "You have no idea how amazing you are."
She puts her hand on the back of his neck and pulls him down towards her again.
It's not that she doesn't know. It's just been a long time since someone else did.
She doesn't know if she's being sexy or not - she's trying - when she says, "Michael, let's go to your room," but he takes her by the hand, then the hips, once she's standing, and really, sleeping with him...
It doesn't feel scary, or like it's too soon, or like she shouldn't. It just feels good.
... ... ...
Meagan walks into his place and shoves a piece of paper against his chest, which is really just confusing. He doesn't think he did anything wrong, but she seems really upset and stuff, and then tells him to just read it and he thinks she's either been crying, or she's about to do it.
So he reads it, because it's better than looking at her right now.
"What...What does this mean?" he asks, though he's pretty sure he gets the gist of it.
"They're sending me back to the States." Her chin sort of starts to wobble and he doesn't know what the fuck to do. Honestly, in his head he knew this was a possibility, obviously, but he tried not to think about it. Now he wishes he had, because she's gonna be gone in a week and he doesn't know how to deal with this. "Finn."
Shit, she's crying.
He drops the letter on his table and walks over to her, wraps her up in his arms and hears her say she loves him, even though it's all muffled by his shirt.
He doesn't know what to do. This is familiar and not at all, all at once. "Shh." He strokes her hair a bit, feels her hands grab at his shirt. "It's okay. We knew...We knew this could happen."
They knew it, they just never talked about it. That feels really stupid now.
"I don't wanna go."
"I know."
"I love you."
He repeats, "I know," because he's starting to wonder if it even matters if he loves her back. Then he feels like a dick, so he says, "Love you, too."
The next week seriously blows. Her friends all want to say goodbye to her, which is obvious, and he can see her trying to put on a brave face (and when he calls her on it, when they're alone, she just says, "Army strong, Finn," and makes it a joke when it doesn't have to be). She works right up until two days before she's leaving, and they spend her whole last night in his apartment - hers is all packed up and mostly empty.
They're in his bed and they've had sex already tonight. It's dark out and she's just lying there next to him with her head on his chest and his hand playing with her hair.
"We can make this work, right?" she asks, and no, they haven't talked about it, mostly because she's been busy and he's been working and he doesn't know what to say anyway.
She looks up at him, eyes sort of shining in the light coming from the window.
And he says, "Yeah," and means it.
He has no fucking clue how to make it work, but he means it.
She sits up a bit, holds the sheet against her and actually smiles for what seems like the first time all week. "We can email. And Skype." He nods at her. She looks really pretty right now, all happy. "It'll be hard," she says, sounding more serious, and setting her hand on his chest right over his heart. He covers it with his. "But I really don't want to lose this."
"Yeah," he says again, and then pulls her on top of him and kisses her. "Me neither." Her legs settle on either side of his hips and he pushes his hand up into her hair. "We'll make it work."
He's working when she leaves base to head back overseas, so he can't really see her off, and it just gets him thinking about the last time he said goodbye to someone who was going away.
And he can't, not for the life of him, figure out why he's doing the long distance thing with Meagan when he wouldn't do it with Rachel.
He can't sleep for thinking about it, and what he comes up with, which might not even be right, is that he's not holding Meagan back from anything.
And fuck, there's this other thing, too, where he thinks that if their relationship falls apart with all the distance between them, it won't break his heart the way it would have if he'd lost Rachel that way.