Who Are We Fooling? 8/12
Title: Who Are We Fooling?
Chapter: 8/12
Rating: R
Character: Finn/Santana
Summary: This is as close as she's gotten to dating someone in a long, long time, and she's not even stopping it.
Word Count: 3,750
Disclaimer: Don't own.
He goes away with Puck, Matt and Mike to Lima for the weekend, because Matt's parents are away and needed someone to housesit, and apparently he can't do that shit on his own and the guys had to leave their women alone to go have some homoerotic weekend with the boys.
Whatever. She's not pissed, she just doesn't get it. Finn asks her if she wants him to stay, but she doesn't really care. She lived on her own for years before they even kissed and she can deal with being on her own now.
Rachel doesn't have the same mentality. Granted, she and Puck have lived together for fucking ever, and Rachel gets freaked out the first night on her own and ends up coming over and sleeping in Santana's bed. They watch Legends of the Fall the next day, and it's the only movie in history that has ever made Santana cry, and it happens again. Fuck, she hates crying, but this is Rachel and she cries, like, every second minute, so she knows there's no judging here.
Quinn calls and Santana rolls her eyes and says the girl can come over if she wants to, and the three of them have dinner (Santana cooks and keeps Q the fuck out of her kitchen). Rachel goes to get wine and comes back with three bottles, a bag of candy and some ridiculous magazines for them to go through.
Santana takes only a sip of wine, and it tastes terrible to her. No one else seems to be having an issue, and they say she's just weird for not liking it. She tries again, but she feels like she's going to be sick, so she figures it'll just be a dry night for her. Quinn ends up getting drunk and actually is fun to be around, and Rachel is always amusing after a few. Quinn sleeps in the spare room and Rachel passes out on Finn's side of the bed. Santana can't sleep.
Something feels weird. When she gets up in the night and goes to the bathroom to look for something to settle her stomach or knock her out, she quickly thinks back and counts weeks on her fingers, and sits at the edge of the tub with her eyes closed, taking deep breaths.
Fuck.
She doesn't say anything to the other girls because she knows they'll flip their fucking lids. Rachel will lose her mind and Quinn will either be smug and preachy or oddly understanding. She doesn't want any of that.
They leave and she goes to the closest Walgreen's to buy a pregnancy test. She also picks up some chocolate and considers buying condoms for the first time in forever.
She knows how this happened. Obviously. They screw like crazy and she's on the pill, but they haven't been too strict about using protection, since they're married and obviously don't have to worry about much. And yeah, the pill isn't totally effective, she knows (doctors like to scare you by repeating that shit over and over) but she never thought they'd have a problem. Law of averages tells her that the amount they have sex directly related to the percentage of how effective the pill is...
She needs to stop thinking in numbers and start thinking about how she might have a kid in nine fucking months.
She can't have a kid. She's too selfish and stubborn and focused on her career. She can't picture having a baby hanging off her, demanding her attention and depending on her. She likes her independence, and she likes the way she and Finn are, and she's never really wanted kids anyway. She had a pregnancy scare when she was 19 and fucking this guy in her E-Comm class on a regular basis, but they used condoms religiously and she was on the pill then, too, and it was nothing; stress or something. Maybe this is that, too.
She kind of feels bad for hoping for it.
She can't bring herself to take the test when she's alone. She doesn't know what to say to him when he comes home, how to broach the subject with him. She should think harder about it, but she figures having a script for this shit is just so something Rachel would do and she doesn't want to go there.
She's doing the dishes and she leans against the counter hard when she's reaching to put plates away, and she jumps back quickly when she realizes what she's doing. She doesn't know a damn thing about pregnancy, really, but she wants to think squishing the baby is probably bad. If there is a baby, which she's not sure there is. God, she needs to take that test.
She goes back and forth about it. She could take it and just pretend the whole thing never happened and not say anything to him, and he'd never know. Or, if she's pregnant, she'd have a few minutes to think about it before he comes home and she has to tell him. But then she tries to open the box and her hands won't work to do it.
It's late in the afternoon when he comes through the door and she hears him set his bag on the floor and yawn. She's upstairs and he calls for her, but she doesn't call back. When he walks into the room, he smiles and she fucking hates how in love with him she is sometimes, because for a split second, she doesn't care what the test says as long as he's around.
He walks over and kisses her forehead. "Hey. How come you're up here?" he asks obliviously.
Fuck, how is she supposed to tell him this?
"I'm late," she blurts out just before he says something else. He looks confused, which she'd normally make fun of. Right now it's really not amusing. "As in...late."
He blinks at her and his hands fall to his sides. He's standing in front of her and she's just looking up at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, to indicate how he might be feeling about the prospect of them having a kid before they even hit their one year anniversary. Then he kind of smiles a little and she hears him let out a little breath right before he says, "Okay," and nods.
She's annoyed by that and she doesn't know why.
She's been messed up about this all day and he waltzes in with that stupid grin and says it's okay? It's not okay. Doesn't he know her well enough to understand why? She doesn't want to be pregnant right now and he's an idiot for acting like she does.
"How is this okay?" she asks, eyes narrowed. He opens his mouth but she doesn't think he deserves a chance to talk just yet. "I can't...This is stupid."
He sits down next to her and it's good that he knows better than to touch her right now. "It's, like, soon or whatever, but..."
"Stop," she sighs. Fuck, this guy and his words. She doesn't know if he honestly thinks he's saying what she wants to hear, or what. That's probably it. What an idiot. "I knew I should have just..."
His face hardens. "Just what, Santana?" he asks gruffly when she doesn't finish.
"Taken the test," she tells him, eyes locked with his. She's not about to back down; he knows that about her by now. "Before you got home."
"And not told me?" He laughs bitterly and gives her a look. "That's a shitty thing to do."
"Well, I didn't do it, did I?" she shouts. She stands and heads for the bathroom.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking the test!" she yells. She turns to him again and he's just staring at her.
"Okay, why are we fighting?" he asks. He shakes his head a little and scratches at his hairline. "Because this could be really awesome and it's kinda not right now."
He just doesn't get it, and she's pissed at him for that.
"What the hell makes you think I'd want a kid?" she asks. He stares blankly. "I'd be a shitty mom, and kids are...It's not like I ever liked them."
He pauses for a minute, looks at her like she's just told him the Easter Bunny doesn't exist. "You realize I'm a teacher, right?"
"Exactly," she says, like that means he should be with her on this one. "You deal with these things every day. Why would you want one of your own?"
He still appears to not totally be able to comprehend what she's saying, which is making her a little homicidal at the moment and she hopes to god that's not the hormones or something.
"I love kids," he tells her. "And babies. And I wanna be a dad." She doesn't know why her heart falls into her stomach. Maybe because she should have guessed this, knowing him like she does. It scares her that she didn't just know. He gives her this little grin. "I want a baby that's me and you."
Rationally, she knows it shouldn't piss her off. It still does. He's not listening to her at all and she's pretty sure that if anyone gets to lay it all out bluntly right now, it's her. He seems to be pretty eager to want to grow kids in her uterus without her approval, and she thinks he's a dick for doing it.
She knows she needs to be honest with him, even if all she wants to do is tell him to get the hell out of her room. Their room.
"I don't want that," she says. She turns around and he says her name just as she shuts the bathroom door.
She's trying to breathe as she tears the box open and pulls the test out, reading the directions quickly. She has to take a second and close her eyes to stop from crying, because that fight they just had was one of the big ones. They fight over stupid shit all the time, but this one is actually important. It means something, and neither of them can take back the things they said. It's a huge issue and she doesn't know how the fuck they get over it, where they go from here.
Still, she pees on the stick and hears him moving around behind the door as she waits the three minutes for the results. It doesn't seem fair that it takes so fucking long. Can't they make some kind of instant test or whatever? Why does she have to wait to see if this kid is going to change everything? (Or if not having a kid is going to change everything.)
The timer beeps and she looks down at the stick on the counter, closes her eyes and lets out a breath. She tosses some of her makeup and things into a cosmetic bag and tucks it under her arm, then picks up the test.
He's right on the other side of the door when she opens it, and he looks down at her with this expression on his face she wishes she didn't kind of love.
"There," she says, pushing the test against his chest. "No baby."
It actually feels weird to say it out loud.
She pulls open the closet and doesn't bother to look back at him, most likely still standing in the same spot. She grabs a couple suits and zips her garment bag violently once they're inside.
"Santana."
"Don't," she snaps. She throws some shoes and her cosmetic bag into an overnight bag and jerks her arm away from him when he tries to touch her. "Finn, don't."
"Don't just leave," he pleads. He's begging and she hates that he has to, but her mind has been made up since before she went into the bathroom.
"I'll be at a hotel."
She closes the bedroom door behind her to make it harder for him to follow after her. He does it anyway, marches down the stairs and tries to stop her from going. He puts his hands on her upper arms and holds tightly, pulls her back against him and tells her to stay so they can talk.
She pulls open the front door and walks out anyway, even if she's probably breaking both their hearts by doing it.
... ... ...
Rachel tells her she's an idiot for leaving, but only after she says Finn called 'Noah' upset and frantic and spilled what happened. Rachel's pissed at her for not saying anything, and Puck's pissed at her for fucking with his boy, and Finn's just hurt and angry, apparently.
"You need to talk to him about this," Rachel says seriously. "I'm coming down there."
"You are not," Santana insists. "I don't need you here, and I need time away from him. Don't ride my ass about this, okay? Not everyone wants to have a gaggle of kids!"
"Well..."
Santana scowls into the phone when Rachel doesn't finish. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Just say it," she barks.
"Maybe you should have discussed this before you got married," Rachel says diplomatically.
Santana isn't looking for diplomacy, she's looking for someone to take her side and no one is. She hangs up on Rachel for the first time in years, and now the three people closest to her are mad.
Great.
... ... ...
He calls her no less than a dozen times the next day, and she'd tell him to stop but she kind of wants to see how serious he is about talking this out. She assumes he's just going to, like, show her pictures of babies dressed like teddy bears until she agrees to have one with him or some shit. That's probably not going to work, but it's totally his style.
She knows she should have seen it. He's amazing with kids, and even if she thinks back to high school when he thought Q's kid was his, underneath all the discomfort and palpable terror was this weird excitement he probably had no business feeling. He's practically a kid himself, and if she didn't know any better she'd question his ability to take care of one. Plus, he's massively huge and babies are stupidly tiny, and she can't even picture what he'd look like holding one. She's sure it'd be ridiculous.
He manages to call her room at the hotel and she knows, then, that he could very well just come down here and see her.
Work was a write off because she's fucking distracted, and every time she saw her hand and her rings she questioned whether or not they should even be there. There's no way she wants to end things over this, because it seems really dumb to do that, but apparently the baby thing is important to him, if his little speech last night was any indication.
She falls asleep with the television on and the stark white sheets pulled up to her shoulders. She wants to sleep in the middle of the bed but she can't, so she settles on 'her' side and closes her eyes. Her Blackberry lights up on the bedside table and she picks it up and reads, 'Miss you. 'Night' and she thinks there might be some shred of hope for them.
She doesn't take his calls for two more days. She just doesn't know what to say, okay? And if he's going to tell her he doesn't want to be with her because she won't mother his children...No, he's not going to say that. She knows him and he's not going to. But still, she thinks about it a bit, what it'd be like to end it with him, and it fucking hurts. Puck tells her Finn's a fucking mess (direct quote) and she doesn't know what to feel about it. On one hand, good. On the other hand, she doesn't want to hear he's not doing well. Not that she thought he could be when they're not speaking and she's not even living at their home.
She's just barely stripped out of her suit and slipped into her hotel robe (because she's a genius and didn't think to bring pajamas or something to sleep in) when she hears a pounding at the door. Before she even looks through the peephole she knows it's him.
She opens the door and he pushes past her without saying a word, and grabs her clothes off the rack, then goes into the bathroom and tosses all her stuff into her bag. When he comes out, he looks around for her overnight bag and then finally looks at her.
"Stop it," he says firmly. She's kind of...She doesn't hate this. "Stop doing this and just come home."
"I..."
"Don't make any stupid fucking excuses either," he continues. Seriously, this, him acting like this, is kind of turning her on. And not solely because it's been almost a week since she had him. "This is dumb, San. We don't have to decide on the kid thing right now. We're young and..." He sighs and she wishes he was closer. "Just come with me."
"But if you want..." She sighs and he walks towards her. "Finn, if you want..."
"I want you," he tells her. He puts his hands on her face. The metal of his wedding ring hits her cheek as she looks up at him. "So quit trying to not want me back."
She laughs softly. That actually sounds about right. She spent a lot of time trying not to want him back and she's starting to remember why she stopped. Plus, he looks really fucking good in that black jacket with the hood, white tee shirt and jeans, and she swears if they weren't in a fight right now, there's no way she'd still have this robe on. She wonders if he's thinking about what she has underneath. (Nothing.)
But they're apart right now for a reason, and it's a good one. He wants babies and she doesn't want to give them to him. That puts them in kind of a shitty spot, and she still doesn't know what to do about it. It's hard to think of not being with him now, but it's also hard to picture him giving up something like this.
And she knows him, and he's totally going to try to convince her to change her mind. He's probably going to be up her ass about it until she spreads her legs and tells him to make them a baby. Sneaky bastard.
"We can't just ignore this and pretend it'll go away. It won't, and you'll..." She stops talking and looks up at him, and he's just looking at her like he's missed the hell out of her for the last few days and he's exhausted from it. "You'll just hate me for it."
"Santana," he says sternly; full on teacher mode. "Hate...I can't...You're stupid!" She glares. "You're...I wouldn't," he says all eager. "I wouldn't."
She shakes her head at him because she doesn't believe him. She can't, not with the way he'd said the other day that he wants their baby.
"You would."
"Impossible."
"Shut up," she says, rolling her eyes. "Don't be a douchey asshole."
He takes another step towards her and grabs her hand, pushes at her rings with his thumb. "Honestly, I don't even know how to like, not be totally in love with you all the time." She looks up at him so she can see if he's lying, and he's really not. He's not even exaggerating. He's just...Finn. "We can talk about the baby thing later." She opens her mouth but he grins and talks over her. "But you have to come home first, okay? 'Cause you're being mean to me."
She laughs full out, looks at him like he's pathetic. "Really," she says dryly.
"Yeah. So tell me you love me and let's get the hell out of here."
She leans against him and he wraps his arms around her and maybe says something about them figuring it out against her hair. She feels like a bitch because all this time, she's been thinking about what it'd take and mean to be legally separated, or how messy a divorce might be. He, on the other hand, has been sleeping in their bed and missing her and trying to come up with ways to make it work.
He's a better person than she is, and that hasn't been a secret, but this just proves it once again.
"Sometimes I think you're stupid for putting up with me," she tells him. He holds her tighter, presses his face against her neck.
"No, I'm not," he murmurs.
She pulls away from him, says, "I love you," as she unties her robe, and as he presses her into the mattress and kisses her neck, hand slipping between her legs, he tells her he missed her way too fucking much and makes her promise never to pull this shit again.
...Chapter 9...
Chapter: 8/12
Rating: R
Character: Finn/Santana
Summary: This is as close as she's gotten to dating someone in a long, long time, and she's not even stopping it.
Word Count: 3,750
Disclaimer: Don't own.
He goes away with Puck, Matt and Mike to Lima for the weekend, because Matt's parents are away and needed someone to housesit, and apparently he can't do that shit on his own and the guys had to leave their women alone to go have some homoerotic weekend with the boys.
Whatever. She's not pissed, she just doesn't get it. Finn asks her if she wants him to stay, but she doesn't really care. She lived on her own for years before they even kissed and she can deal with being on her own now.
Rachel doesn't have the same mentality. Granted, she and Puck have lived together for fucking ever, and Rachel gets freaked out the first night on her own and ends up coming over and sleeping in Santana's bed. They watch Legends of the Fall the next day, and it's the only movie in history that has ever made Santana cry, and it happens again. Fuck, she hates crying, but this is Rachel and she cries, like, every second minute, so she knows there's no judging here.
Quinn calls and Santana rolls her eyes and says the girl can come over if she wants to, and the three of them have dinner (Santana cooks and keeps Q the fuck out of her kitchen). Rachel goes to get wine and comes back with three bottles, a bag of candy and some ridiculous magazines for them to go through.
Santana takes only a sip of wine, and it tastes terrible to her. No one else seems to be having an issue, and they say she's just weird for not liking it. She tries again, but she feels like she's going to be sick, so she figures it'll just be a dry night for her. Quinn ends up getting drunk and actually is fun to be around, and Rachel is always amusing after a few. Quinn sleeps in the spare room and Rachel passes out on Finn's side of the bed. Santana can't sleep.
Something feels weird. When she gets up in the night and goes to the bathroom to look for something to settle her stomach or knock her out, she quickly thinks back and counts weeks on her fingers, and sits at the edge of the tub with her eyes closed, taking deep breaths.
Fuck.
She doesn't say anything to the other girls because she knows they'll flip their fucking lids. Rachel will lose her mind and Quinn will either be smug and preachy or oddly understanding. She doesn't want any of that.
They leave and she goes to the closest Walgreen's to buy a pregnancy test. She also picks up some chocolate and considers buying condoms for the first time in forever.
She knows how this happened. Obviously. They screw like crazy and she's on the pill, but they haven't been too strict about using protection, since they're married and obviously don't have to worry about much. And yeah, the pill isn't totally effective, she knows (doctors like to scare you by repeating that shit over and over) but she never thought they'd have a problem. Law of averages tells her that the amount they have sex directly related to the percentage of how effective the pill is...
She needs to stop thinking in numbers and start thinking about how she might have a kid in nine fucking months.
She can't have a kid. She's too selfish and stubborn and focused on her career. She can't picture having a baby hanging off her, demanding her attention and depending on her. She likes her independence, and she likes the way she and Finn are, and she's never really wanted kids anyway. She had a pregnancy scare when she was 19 and fucking this guy in her E-Comm class on a regular basis, but they used condoms religiously and she was on the pill then, too, and it was nothing; stress or something. Maybe this is that, too.
She kind of feels bad for hoping for it.
She can't bring herself to take the test when she's alone. She doesn't know what to say to him when he comes home, how to broach the subject with him. She should think harder about it, but she figures having a script for this shit is just so something Rachel would do and she doesn't want to go there.
She's doing the dishes and she leans against the counter hard when she's reaching to put plates away, and she jumps back quickly when she realizes what she's doing. She doesn't know a damn thing about pregnancy, really, but she wants to think squishing the baby is probably bad. If there is a baby, which she's not sure there is. God, she needs to take that test.
She goes back and forth about it. She could take it and just pretend the whole thing never happened and not say anything to him, and he'd never know. Or, if she's pregnant, she'd have a few minutes to think about it before he comes home and she has to tell him. But then she tries to open the box and her hands won't work to do it.
It's late in the afternoon when he comes through the door and she hears him set his bag on the floor and yawn. She's upstairs and he calls for her, but she doesn't call back. When he walks into the room, he smiles and she fucking hates how in love with him she is sometimes, because for a split second, she doesn't care what the test says as long as he's around.
He walks over and kisses her forehead. "Hey. How come you're up here?" he asks obliviously.
Fuck, how is she supposed to tell him this?
"I'm late," she blurts out just before he says something else. He looks confused, which she'd normally make fun of. Right now it's really not amusing. "As in...late."
He blinks at her and his hands fall to his sides. He's standing in front of her and she's just looking up at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, to indicate how he might be feeling about the prospect of them having a kid before they even hit their one year anniversary. Then he kind of smiles a little and she hears him let out a little breath right before he says, "Okay," and nods.
She's annoyed by that and she doesn't know why.
She's been messed up about this all day and he waltzes in with that stupid grin and says it's okay? It's not okay. Doesn't he know her well enough to understand why? She doesn't want to be pregnant right now and he's an idiot for acting like she does.
"How is this okay?" she asks, eyes narrowed. He opens his mouth but she doesn't think he deserves a chance to talk just yet. "I can't...This is stupid."
He sits down next to her and it's good that he knows better than to touch her right now. "It's, like, soon or whatever, but..."
"Stop," she sighs. Fuck, this guy and his words. She doesn't know if he honestly thinks he's saying what she wants to hear, or what. That's probably it. What an idiot. "I knew I should have just..."
His face hardens. "Just what, Santana?" he asks gruffly when she doesn't finish.
"Taken the test," she tells him, eyes locked with his. She's not about to back down; he knows that about her by now. "Before you got home."
"And not told me?" He laughs bitterly and gives her a look. "That's a shitty thing to do."
"Well, I didn't do it, did I?" she shouts. She stands and heads for the bathroom.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking the test!" she yells. She turns to him again and he's just staring at her.
"Okay, why are we fighting?" he asks. He shakes his head a little and scratches at his hairline. "Because this could be really awesome and it's kinda not right now."
He just doesn't get it, and she's pissed at him for that.
"What the hell makes you think I'd want a kid?" she asks. He stares blankly. "I'd be a shitty mom, and kids are...It's not like I ever liked them."
He pauses for a minute, looks at her like she's just told him the Easter Bunny doesn't exist. "You realize I'm a teacher, right?"
"Exactly," she says, like that means he should be with her on this one. "You deal with these things every day. Why would you want one of your own?"
He still appears to not totally be able to comprehend what she's saying, which is making her a little homicidal at the moment and she hopes to god that's not the hormones or something.
"I love kids," he tells her. "And babies. And I wanna be a dad." She doesn't know why her heart falls into her stomach. Maybe because she should have guessed this, knowing him like she does. It scares her that she didn't just know. He gives her this little grin. "I want a baby that's me and you."
Rationally, she knows it shouldn't piss her off. It still does. He's not listening to her at all and she's pretty sure that if anyone gets to lay it all out bluntly right now, it's her. He seems to be pretty eager to want to grow kids in her uterus without her approval, and she thinks he's a dick for doing it.
She knows she needs to be honest with him, even if all she wants to do is tell him to get the hell out of her room. Their room.
"I don't want that," she says. She turns around and he says her name just as she shuts the bathroom door.
She's trying to breathe as she tears the box open and pulls the test out, reading the directions quickly. She has to take a second and close her eyes to stop from crying, because that fight they just had was one of the big ones. They fight over stupid shit all the time, but this one is actually important. It means something, and neither of them can take back the things they said. It's a huge issue and she doesn't know how the fuck they get over it, where they go from here.
Still, she pees on the stick and hears him moving around behind the door as she waits the three minutes for the results. It doesn't seem fair that it takes so fucking long. Can't they make some kind of instant test or whatever? Why does she have to wait to see if this kid is going to change everything? (Or if not having a kid is going to change everything.)
The timer beeps and she looks down at the stick on the counter, closes her eyes and lets out a breath. She tosses some of her makeup and things into a cosmetic bag and tucks it under her arm, then picks up the test.
He's right on the other side of the door when she opens it, and he looks down at her with this expression on his face she wishes she didn't kind of love.
"There," she says, pushing the test against his chest. "No baby."
It actually feels weird to say it out loud.
She pulls open the closet and doesn't bother to look back at him, most likely still standing in the same spot. She grabs a couple suits and zips her garment bag violently once they're inside.
"Santana."
"Don't," she snaps. She throws some shoes and her cosmetic bag into an overnight bag and jerks her arm away from him when he tries to touch her. "Finn, don't."
"Don't just leave," he pleads. He's begging and she hates that he has to, but her mind has been made up since before she went into the bathroom.
"I'll be at a hotel."
She closes the bedroom door behind her to make it harder for him to follow after her. He does it anyway, marches down the stairs and tries to stop her from going. He puts his hands on her upper arms and holds tightly, pulls her back against him and tells her to stay so they can talk.
She pulls open the front door and walks out anyway, even if she's probably breaking both their hearts by doing it.
... ... ...
Rachel tells her she's an idiot for leaving, but only after she says Finn called 'Noah' upset and frantic and spilled what happened. Rachel's pissed at her for not saying anything, and Puck's pissed at her for fucking with his boy, and Finn's just hurt and angry, apparently.
"You need to talk to him about this," Rachel says seriously. "I'm coming down there."
"You are not," Santana insists. "I don't need you here, and I need time away from him. Don't ride my ass about this, okay? Not everyone wants to have a gaggle of kids!"
"Well..."
Santana scowls into the phone when Rachel doesn't finish. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Just say it," she barks.
"Maybe you should have discussed this before you got married," Rachel says diplomatically.
Santana isn't looking for diplomacy, she's looking for someone to take her side and no one is. She hangs up on Rachel for the first time in years, and now the three people closest to her are mad.
Great.
... ... ...
He calls her no less than a dozen times the next day, and she'd tell him to stop but she kind of wants to see how serious he is about talking this out. She assumes he's just going to, like, show her pictures of babies dressed like teddy bears until she agrees to have one with him or some shit. That's probably not going to work, but it's totally his style.
She knows she should have seen it. He's amazing with kids, and even if she thinks back to high school when he thought Q's kid was his, underneath all the discomfort and palpable terror was this weird excitement he probably had no business feeling. He's practically a kid himself, and if she didn't know any better she'd question his ability to take care of one. Plus, he's massively huge and babies are stupidly tiny, and she can't even picture what he'd look like holding one. She's sure it'd be ridiculous.
He manages to call her room at the hotel and she knows, then, that he could very well just come down here and see her.
Work was a write off because she's fucking distracted, and every time she saw her hand and her rings she questioned whether or not they should even be there. There's no way she wants to end things over this, because it seems really dumb to do that, but apparently the baby thing is important to him, if his little speech last night was any indication.
She falls asleep with the television on and the stark white sheets pulled up to her shoulders. She wants to sleep in the middle of the bed but she can't, so she settles on 'her' side and closes her eyes. Her Blackberry lights up on the bedside table and she picks it up and reads, 'Miss you. 'Night' and she thinks there might be some shred of hope for them.
She doesn't take his calls for two more days. She just doesn't know what to say, okay? And if he's going to tell her he doesn't want to be with her because she won't mother his children...No, he's not going to say that. She knows him and he's not going to. But still, she thinks about it a bit, what it'd be like to end it with him, and it fucking hurts. Puck tells her Finn's a fucking mess (direct quote) and she doesn't know what to feel about it. On one hand, good. On the other hand, she doesn't want to hear he's not doing well. Not that she thought he could be when they're not speaking and she's not even living at their home.
She's just barely stripped out of her suit and slipped into her hotel robe (because she's a genius and didn't think to bring pajamas or something to sleep in) when she hears a pounding at the door. Before she even looks through the peephole she knows it's him.
She opens the door and he pushes past her without saying a word, and grabs her clothes off the rack, then goes into the bathroom and tosses all her stuff into her bag. When he comes out, he looks around for her overnight bag and then finally looks at her.
"Stop it," he says firmly. She's kind of...She doesn't hate this. "Stop doing this and just come home."
"I..."
"Don't make any stupid fucking excuses either," he continues. Seriously, this, him acting like this, is kind of turning her on. And not solely because it's been almost a week since she had him. "This is dumb, San. We don't have to decide on the kid thing right now. We're young and..." He sighs and she wishes he was closer. "Just come with me."
"But if you want..." She sighs and he walks towards her. "Finn, if you want..."
"I want you," he tells her. He puts his hands on her face. The metal of his wedding ring hits her cheek as she looks up at him. "So quit trying to not want me back."
She laughs softly. That actually sounds about right. She spent a lot of time trying not to want him back and she's starting to remember why she stopped. Plus, he looks really fucking good in that black jacket with the hood, white tee shirt and jeans, and she swears if they weren't in a fight right now, there's no way she'd still have this robe on. She wonders if he's thinking about what she has underneath. (Nothing.)
But they're apart right now for a reason, and it's a good one. He wants babies and she doesn't want to give them to him. That puts them in kind of a shitty spot, and she still doesn't know what to do about it. It's hard to think of not being with him now, but it's also hard to picture him giving up something like this.
And she knows him, and he's totally going to try to convince her to change her mind. He's probably going to be up her ass about it until she spreads her legs and tells him to make them a baby. Sneaky bastard.
"We can't just ignore this and pretend it'll go away. It won't, and you'll..." She stops talking and looks up at him, and he's just looking at her like he's missed the hell out of her for the last few days and he's exhausted from it. "You'll just hate me for it."
"Santana," he says sternly; full on teacher mode. "Hate...I can't...You're stupid!" She glares. "You're...I wouldn't," he says all eager. "I wouldn't."
She shakes her head at him because she doesn't believe him. She can't, not with the way he'd said the other day that he wants their baby.
"You would."
"Impossible."
"Shut up," she says, rolling her eyes. "Don't be a douchey asshole."
He takes another step towards her and grabs her hand, pushes at her rings with his thumb. "Honestly, I don't even know how to like, not be totally in love with you all the time." She looks up at him so she can see if he's lying, and he's really not. He's not even exaggerating. He's just...Finn. "We can talk about the baby thing later." She opens her mouth but he grins and talks over her. "But you have to come home first, okay? 'Cause you're being mean to me."
She laughs full out, looks at him like he's pathetic. "Really," she says dryly.
"Yeah. So tell me you love me and let's get the hell out of here."
She leans against him and he wraps his arms around her and maybe says something about them figuring it out against her hair. She feels like a bitch because all this time, she's been thinking about what it'd take and mean to be legally separated, or how messy a divorce might be. He, on the other hand, has been sleeping in their bed and missing her and trying to come up with ways to make it work.
He's a better person than she is, and that hasn't been a secret, but this just proves it once again.
"Sometimes I think you're stupid for putting up with me," she tells him. He holds her tighter, presses his face against her neck.
"No, I'm not," he murmurs.
She pulls away from him, says, "I love you," as she unties her robe, and as he presses her into the mattress and kisses her neck, hand slipping between her legs, he tells her he missed her way too fucking much and makes her promise never to pull this shit again.
...Chapter 9...