A/N: Here we go, earlier than usual! I gotta warn because I don't think I'll update tomorrow, because I'll be busy being a birthday girl then!
It's already half past ten when he makes it out of school. Freakin' half past ten in the evening. Maybe Rachel has a point when she says principal Burgh is more of a slave driver for it should be legal in modern times. Finn Hudson is a happy man, but half past ten is, like, late. Anyways, he's done with work; but he's a teacher so mentally he's never really done with work, especially not with Regionals coming up soon and with his kids being too lazy for anything. All he wants is a hot shower, halfway decent New York City evening rush hour traffic (ha ha), maybe something to eat and make sure Rachel isn't going crazy about some trifles again. His Mum says that's totally normal in her condition. Still, he'd be really grateful if their apartment wouldn't smell like Dune Grass Yankee Candles for once. What kind of a weird scent for a candle is dune grass anyways?
He throws the door closed behind him and steps out into the humid, heavy July air of New York City. He loves the city, he really does. He just wishes at least someone would try not to drive like a complete idiot, Rachel making the exception. Rachel is the worst co-driver ever. He loves her, really a lot. What he doesn't love is Rachel sitting next to him, stiff and uptight, flinching every time he doesn't hit the brake when she would find it suitable. He finds their old Chevy, red varnish chipped and also very dirty. He decides to clean it before Rachel gets a heart attack, only from seeing it. Surprisingly, the car doesn't smell like Yankee candles. Hip, hip, hooray! What isn't surprising, though, is the fact that the traffic isn't as nice to him as he hoped it would be. He'd probably be faster if he'd walk. Seeing that his feed hurt, along with his head and that he's far too lazy to do anything including physical activities, he scraps this plan and rather continues slowly moving along with what people ever would be on the road at ten past elven on a Friday night.
It's already past eleven when he finally closes the heavy wooden door behind him, as silent as possible. Strange, how consoling the smell of Yankee candles can be in the middle of the night. He tries to be as silent as possible when he stows away his shoes and his jacket, but soon he realizes that being quiet isn't necessary. The living room is dimly lit and Rachel, wonderfully tubby and pregnant, sits in the massive armchair, feet lying on the matching stool, a book in her hands, reruns of Golden Girls playing in the background.
"Hey, baby." He says quietly, loosening the knot of his tie. She turns around, putting the book on the narrow end table to her left, smiling widely.
"There you are!" She exclaims happily, clapping her hands together. She looks strikingly awake, for the fact that she spent the last three weeks telling him how tired she was. She looks good too. Rachel obviously is a very pretty pregnant (Not that she wasn't pretty before), like she's glowing and to be honest he can't stand it very much when she's like completely thin, he always feels like he constantly has to stuff as much food into her mouth as would fit in, even though she claims she needs to stay in shape for her job. What shape? That of a stick.
"There I am." He answers tiredly "Oh, no please, stay there." He tells her, when she starts moving. She happily obeys and he walks over to her, ripping the first few buttons of his shirt open and then leans down to kiss her briefly before he drops into the chair opposite to hers.
"How was your day?" She asks and he can practically hear her frown, so he opens his eyes again and watches her. There's a half empty cup of tea on the end table, the tag of a bag of chamomile tea dangling over the rim, the book she read is some kind of a name-your-baby-book in pale blue and her hair's slightly wet which means she took a shower not along ago. He feels better now. His head's pounding less and honestly she just makes it all better. He musters a smile for her.
"Long."
She gives him a sympathetic smile.
"You work too hard."
He lifts his brows at her.
"Actually I'm not working enough, if you ask me. Melissa thinks she can rest on her oars from Sectionals and just doesn't get that Celine Dion is a different story than Britney Spears, Ian gets all shaky only from the word 'Showtime'. Trust me it would be funny, if Ian wasn't my male lead. This is such a mess. Also I wanna be able to provide my girls."He idly reaches for her book and traces over the almost faded black letters. He recognizes this book from his childhood, probably the ancient book shelf in the hallway of his old house. It's his mom's.
"You're providing well for us. Do you want something? Coffee? Tea? I think we still have some spring rolls left over from yesterday, so if you want…"
"Just stay where you are. I'm fine right here, with you." Finn assures her, smiling, carefully lifting her feet from the stool and placing them in his lap instead. He pulls off the thin lace anklets she's wearing and starts kneading the soles of her feet. She sighs contently and allows her eyes to slip closed.
"I said you shouldn't wait for me." He reminds her calmly, looking up to see her eyes open again.
"Oh, no, I wanted to. I couldn't sleep anyways." Rachel replies breezily, shaking her head, sitting a little straighter in her chair.
"What's the matter, Rach?" He asks, sighing, before he goes to her heels.
"You're tired, aren't you?" She questions, cheekily, head tilted to the side slightly.
"Not tired enough not to do something nice for you." Finn answers, flinching a little, as he rolls his shoulders, making an unsettling, cracking noise.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. What is it you want, baby?"
"I thought maybe, but really just if you aren't too tired…." He rolls his eyes at her "So I thought maybe we could, look at some names. For the baby, I mean." He doesn't answer but reaches for the book again instead. He skips through the pages.
"Lily, like the flower. That's pretty." He suggests, taking the staple of tiny pink post-it's from her, marking the page. She takes the book from him.
"Uhm…Evangeline. That's Greek for good news. That's fitting isn't it?" She smiles brightly.
"I just would love to be able to spell my daughter's name." He tells her smirking, but she marks the page anyways, before she tosses the book his direction. He catches it before it hits the floor.
"Olivia. Liv." He suggests, looking up, to see her scrunch up her nose. "Okay, so no Olivia."
"Elpha…" She starts, without even opening the book, but Finn knows what's coming and no, just no.
"Rachel, no." He interrupts her firmly.
"You don't even know what I was going to say!" She protests weakly, scratching Glinda, behind the ear.
"Rachel, I love you and I'll love that baby, but that alone is a reason for not calling my daughter Elphaba Hudson." He explains her patiently. She looks crestfallen for a moment but starts skipping through the pages quickly again. She smiles softly, bites her bottom lip and then looks up again.
"Ava."
"Ava?" He repeats, frowning "Isn't that a little short?"
She does a little more skipping.
"Ava Elise Hudson." Rachel smiles triumphantly at him.
"Ava Elise Hudson." He closes his eyes and he just loves how easy it rolls off his tongues, as if it was nestled there all the time, just waiting to be said.
He opens his eyes and looks at her, smiling.
A/N2: All done! Leave me some extra-lovely birthday love! XOXO Kat
