Fandom: Coupling
Title: Old Wives
Beta: Not betaed. Sorry for all errors
Rating: 12
Paring: Steve/Susan
Spoilers/set: Season 4
Summary: (I can't actually think how to summarise this. Sorry)

A/N: This is the last chapter of this story and I'm very, very nervous about it. It's a Steve and Susan conversation and I think the conclusion on the story is a little to fast. But I can't think where else to go with this story. But I have enjoyed dipping my toe into this fandom and I hope to write more. But if you can tell me what you think I'd really appreciate it. )

Chapter 3

When Steve closed the door to his and Susan's flat he could hear Susan growl from the kitchen and all he wanted to do was just skulk back out to the bar again. But he had promised to be home so they could have tea together and he knew that Susan had heard me come in. So attempting to leave to continue your night out of drinking when your fiancé was pregnant, and experiencing a large hormonal imbalance, was the same as trying to negotiate a mine field. Although Steve wasn't sure how many limbs he'd come out with if he tried to navigate a conversation with Susan. He'd probably just end up having his head bitten off. As pure usual.

He took off his denim jacket and hung it up in the hallway before cautiously heading to the kitchen. Gingerly he stuck his head through the kitchen doorway and he could see Susan standing at the counter top but more importantly, or perhaps more worryingly, she was holding a large knife in her hand. He could hear the sound of her copping the vegetables become louder and louder as the knife hit harder and harder against the chopping board. He could also see that she was immensely tense and so the desire to go and hide under the bed was crushed by the desire to try and comfort her.

So rustling up courage that he didn't have Steve stepped vicariously into the kitchen, swallowing a large lump that was caught in his throat as he walked up behind Susan. "Hello." He said brightly, placing a soft kiss on Susan's cheek.

"Hi." Susan replied irritated and dejectedly.

Steve placed a hand on Susan's back and began to gentle rub it up and down in an attempt to ease her tense and aching back. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She mumbled sulkily as she went to the fridge to get something.

Steve rested against the counter as he looked at Susan. "You sure?" He asked.

Somewhat heavily Susan shut the fridge door and turned on the balls of her feet wearing a thin smile on her lips. "Of course nothings wrong, why would anything be wrong?" She asked tilting her head cynically to the side as she reached out to pick up the knife, holding it out in the air before turning to cut the vegetables again. The glinting of the steal immediately caught Steve's eye as Susan continued. "I mean I'm only here once again cooking for us…" She was chopping the vegetables very forcefully. "…while you've been out knocking back a few beers with Patrick." She stopped chopping completely know and waved the knife in the air a little aggressively. "While I am once again the reliable, sensible and pregnant one."

The waving of the knife caused Steve to stand up straight and he looked at Susan, laughing nervously. "Well if I was the pregnant one we'd really have something to worry about." He smiled anxiously before his eyes were once again drawn back to the knife in Susan's hands.

"Hum." Susan looked up into the air pretending to think. "Actually Steve I think more worryingly would be if you were the sensible and reliable one." She looked back at him with that withering stare that only Susan could have.

Steve swallowed nervously. His eyes darting between Susan's stare and the knife in her hands. He wished he could do more, to ask a little bit more, to really discuss what was wrong. But there was only one downfall in that. He, was a man. So instead he did what every man did. Attempted to ignore whatever problem their maybe.

So clasping his hand together he stood up straight saying. "Well if you're sure nothing's wrong." Before running off to the living room.

Susan threw her head back and let out an irritated growl. Annoyed and angry Susan turned on her heels stormed into the living room, still with knife in hand, and stormed up the couch were Steve was sitting and began a tirade on him while violently, and somewhat absent mind, waving a knife in the air.

Steve who was simply scared and shocked began to sink back into the corner of the couch, hoping it would open up and swallow him as his eyes darted between an infuriated Susan and the knife in her hands. God how he wished he had followed his earlier instinct to hide under the bed and now because he hadn't he had a mans worst nightmare in front of him. A pregnant, fiancée having a go at him while wielding a knife. Instinctively he held his hands over his crotch. He had little manhood as it was, he didn't wish to lose anymore.

Susan's outburst was coming to an end and she was looking at him expectantly. "Well!" She screeched.

Steve's mouth gaped open and he made a few erm, ahh noises, much to Susan's dissatisfaction.

"Steve weren't you listening to what I said?"

"Yes, yes I was." He nodded vigorously.

Susan placed her free hand on her hip as the hand holding the knife lowered slightly. "Oh really. What did I say?"

Steve looked forward, then looked back at Susan. "That I was useless, not much help and didn't seem to give a dam."

Susan's resolute stance fell slightly and awkwardly she replied. "Lucky guess." Before she half heartedly stormed back off to the kitchen.

Steve followed her with his eyes as she left and the desire to once again go and hide under the bed was curb by the desire to the decent boyfriend thing and actually talk to his pregnant, hormonal and emotional filled girlfriend. Wearily he pushed himself off the couch and headed like a condemned man back to the kitchen.

He stopped in his track when he saw that Susan was back to chopping the vegetables and instead moved to head to the bedroom to follow his survival instincts, but Susan had seen him and was now talking to him. Well berating him.

"I can't believe you weren't listening to what I was saying." She complained as she focused on calmly chopping the vegetables.

Steve stepped into the kitchen. "What do you mean, you said I got it right…"

Susan looked over her shoulder to face him and cut him off. "No I said lucky guess. Their is a difference."

Steve stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over to the table like a little boy who'd been scolded by his parents. "Yeah well. It was a little hard to concentrate on what you were saying while you were wielding a knife. I mean a mans worst nightmare is having his pregnant girlfriend come at him nagging while carrying a knife. You know in that hormone rage you might end up cutting off something rather important."

Susan turned round and purposely held the knife out as she looked at him pointedly. "Nagging."

Steve's eyes widened slightly. "Not that you nag. I would never say that you nag because you know you don't." He smiled sweetly at Susan who he could was trying to hold back a wicked smile by biting the inside of her mouth.

"Yeah well, you better not." She threatened teasingly before she turned to drop the knife into the sink.

Relieved that the knife was now gone Steve pulled out a chair and sat down while Susan more calmly and unarmed nagged at him.

"It's just after that night with the large conversation between us all that you were going to take a little bit more of an interest, be a little more supportive."

"I am."

Susan pulled out a chair and sat opposite Steve. "Steve you couldn't even help me pick out a colour for the baby's room, and you said our baby looked like the Death Star attacking the Millennium Falcon."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

Steve pointed his finger at Susan. "No I didn't. What I actually said was that it looked like the Millennium Falcon caught in the force field of the Death Star." He stated matter of factly.

"Oh well that makes it so much better." She said sarcastically.

"Look I'm sorry about that and I'm sorry that I didn't help you pick out colours for the baby's room. But I'm a man. You know I can't have opinions about that kind of stuff."

Susan rested her elbow on the table and held her head in her hand. "Nor on the sex of your own child." She mumbled huffily. She sat up straight. "You know I doubt it would bother you if when the baby arrived and it turned out to be… orange."

"Well of course that would bother me."

"Really?" Susan scoffed.

"Yes it would. I would find it very worrying if the baby was orange. It would mean that my axe wielding, jelly baby, foetus dream would in actual fact not be a dream but a premonition." He pointed to himself. "And I could expect to end up having my head chop off."

Susan closed her eyes and shook her head. "Steve if we could please get back to the realms of sanity for a moment." She looked over at Steve who seemed to hang his head slightly. "Why am I the only one concerned about finding out the sex of this baby?"

Steve raised his head and began making his argument. "Susan using the height of your bump, a needle and thread or the size of your breasts is not going to help to determine the sex of the baby. Especially when you want all that to tell you that it'll be a girl."

"But don't you care?"

"No."

"What?" Susan asked looking extremely bewildered. "How could you not care?"

Steve came off the chair and knelt on the floor in front of Susan. "Look I'm not going to deny that if we had a boy then at last I would be evenly matched against you, that the flat wouldn't be taken over with more girlie things or that I'd have more hormones to deal with."

"I'd just have to put up with more testicles." She grumbled.

Steve smiled. "But if we had a girl I'd be absolutely fine with that. Because I could put up with even more girlie things and even more hormones. It doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl because either way we're going to have a child in out lives." He could see Susan was melting to him. "All I hope is that the baby has your looks, your sensibility and my humour." When he saw Susan smile he kissed her on the cheek and hugged her.

"And your hair." Susan chipped in laughing lightly.

Steve lent back from Susan and pointed at his hair shaking his head. "Oh no this barnet is unique."

Susan laughed. "I know. You even have your own method to applying hair spray."

Steve stood up straight, smiling. "Hey if you just spray it straight on it just gets sticky." He made a funny disgusted face. "And no one wants that." Steve turned and made his way to the fridge to get a can of beer.

Susan stood and walked up beside Steve. Standing on her tip toes slightly she leaned into him slightly as she wrapped her arm over his shoulder and ran her other hand through his hair. "No. No one wants that." She said before she kissed him on the lips as she pulled away she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Steve's brow creased in mock confusion. "Um, I'm sorry." He made a point to stress the 'I'm sorry.' "What did you say?" He asked humorously.

Susan moved in to kiss him again. "I said I'm sorry."

Steve pointed at Susan. "Your sorry." He said again amusingly.

"Yes. I'm sorry." She kissed him again. "Especially for the whole knife wielding thing."

Steve left his can of beer in the fridge and wrapped his arms around Susan. "Well I think I can forgive you for that." His eyes glanced downwards. "Their were no major casualties."

"Good." Susan rested her head against Steve's chest and allowed herself to be enveloped in the hug as Steve kissed the top of her head.

"But god I wished I knew the sex of the baby. Boy or girl." She mumbled into his chest. "The curiosity is killing me."

"Yeah well that's when it pays to be a man." Steve said proudly.

Susan looked up at Steve. "What, you say you don't care either way and you get less hassle."

"Exactly."

Susan rolled her eyes and pulled away from Steve, making her way back towards the counter top. "Yeah well if we did know the sex of the baby it would have made choosing a colour for the baby's room much easier and more importantly, something we have to discuss soon, choosing a name for the baby. Which we have to come to a joint decision on."

Steve's eyes widened in dread. "Yes a joint decision." He turned to the fridge. "But lets not dread, I mean, worry about that now hey." He took a can of beer from the fridge closing the door. "Lets just enjoy the rest of the evening. We can talk about baby names tomorrow." He opened his beer.

"But do you have any ideas?" Asked Susan expectantly with her back to Steve.

Steve opened his mouth and looked up into the air. "Ah well…" He looked back at the beer in his hands noticing the name. "Err well. What about Foster." He suggested before taking a sip of his beer.

Susan turned looking at him with puzzlement. "Foster. I don't think I've ever…" She stopped however when she notice the name of the beer Steve was drinking. Her shoulders sagged and her head tilted to the side. "Steve that is the worst…" She shook her head and waved him away with her hand. "Never mind we'll talk about it later." She turned back to her cooking. "Give you time to think about it. Develop an opinion." He said with a strong hint of sarcasm.

Steve turned around and nodded his head from side to side, making a 'nah, nah' face as he headed to the living room. He took a very long swig of his beer as he sat on the couch. Dread was already seeping into his stomach about the impending baby name conversation for both a boy and a girl.

God he wished he knew the sex of the baby, because then they'd only have to agree or rather argue over one name. And he knew that was going to be difficult.

The End