Oh, Skype Girls … you know it's dedicated to you anyway. We should call ourselves something. How about "The League of Extraordinary Finchel Writers"? Haha. I'm tired. Here's your post!

..xo..

Around four o'clock that afternoon Finn decided he can't stay away forever. He missed his daughter and yes, even though he was frustrated and angry, he missed his wife. And their unborn.

He just wanted to be home with them again.

So he shoved his pride into the pocket of his sweatpants and headed home. He ducked as he walked in the door, fully expecting Rachel to fling something at his head. She's prone to throwing things when she's angry with him and since she hit the beginning of her third trimester, she's been pretty angry most of the time.

Well, angry or horny. He likes the second better than the first but feels it was probably safe to assume the first would be on the menu, not the second.

So imagine his surprise when he found the house empty.

No Rachel. No Hadley. No Santana.

He ran to their bedroom, heart thumping wildly, scared to death that she packed up her things and left him.

He let out a breath he was unaware he was holding when he saw her bathrobe hanging on the back of the door in their en suite bathroom and her shoes lined neatly at the bottom of their closet.

He moved down the hall to Hadley's room and saw that all of her things were still there as well.

Thank God.

But then the fear gripped him again. If they weren't home, where were they? The sink was clear and the washer and dryer were empty so he had to assume she wouldn't be back any time soon.

He plopped himself down on the couch and placed his head in his hands. He knew he should have come home earlier. He knew almost immediately after telling Puck he wasn't coming home that he needed to leave and get here as soon as possible.

But, of course, he hadn't. He'd talked with Puck about the situation they'd found themselves in (shut up, dude can talk about that stuff) and then started playing Mario Kart.

Time kind of slipped away after that.

He wished he had better advice to give his best friend. He wished that stupid fight never happened. He wished he'd just kept his big mouth shut.

But most of all, he wished he knew where his girls were.

-x-

Two hours later he was still sitting on the couch, lights and television off, head in his hands. He heard the door open and snapped his head up in time to see his little girl hurtling towards him as fast as her little legs would carry her.

"Daddy!" she screeched as he caught her. "I missed you so much!" she exclaimed as she peppered kisses all over his face. "Did you miss me?"

"You bet I did, baby. Is Momma with you?" he asked as he cuddled her close.

"Nope," Hadley said shaking her head dejectedly. "Momma and Aunt Ana are gone."

"What do you mean gone, baby?" he asked, panic lacing his voice.

"They went to Dayton for the night. San needed to pick up something for the bar and we both thought Rachel could use some time away," Kurt said as he walked into the room.

"So they left Hadley with you?" Finn asked eyebrows arched, clearly unable to process why his daughter was with his step-brother.

"First, I am her uncle," Kurt said and chose to ignore Hadley's little giggle. "Second, Quinn was working all day and Sam went to finish up that job on the other side of town and I guess Santana thought that him using gardening tools and watching a four year old …"

"Four and one-quarter!' Hadley shrieked indignantly.

"Fine, a four and one-quarter year old, wouldn't exactly bode well for the health of either. So I am now going to take her over to Dad and Carole's for the night," Kurt concluded.

"Well, I'm home now. She doesn't need to go over there." He paused and eyed his brother. "How is she?"

"Rachel?" Kurt asked in a deliberately obtuse voice.

"Don't screw around with me, Hummel," Finn said warningly. "Answer my question."

"Hey, Munchkin, go play in your room, okay?" he directed at Hadley.

She nodded and pressed a kiss to Finn's cheek before hopping down and running to Kurt, hugging his legs and then taking off for her room.

Once she was gone Kurt continued, "She's a complete mess you idiot. You didn't call, didn't text, didn't e-mail and didn't come home. Santana told me it took her an hour to get Rachel to stop sobbing and crying that you were leaving her for good this morning. So, my dear brother, you stepped in it so bad this time I don't have any idea how you're going to make it up to her."

"This whole situation isn't entirely my fault, you know," Finn responded as he stood. "She's just as guilty as I am. That fight …"

"Should never have happened. You two need to mind your own business when it comes to Puck and Santana. They've got this whole functioning-through-dysfunction thing going on and it works for them," Kurt replied hotly. "It's not your place not is it Rachel's to get in the middle of it. Let them work it out. They've managed fine for years, Finn."

"But …"

"No buts, Finn. Seriously. When Rachel gets home tomorrow morning, you're going to apologize, tell her you were wrong, and beg for her forgiveness."

"She knows when I'm lying, Kurt. So I can't tell her I was wrong because she'll know I don't mean that. Because I don't think it was wrong for siding with Puck on this. He told her how he felt. There's nothing wrong with that."

"First, neither of us were there when the fight went down so neither of us can comment on how things happened. Rachel saw it. She must have a reason for thinking Santana is correct and not Puck," Kurt replied.

"Yeah. She does. Because she waited five months to tell me because she was afraid I would leave her. She's punishing Puck because he's not afraid to tell San that he loves her. I swear, dude …"

There was a knock on the door and Finn's brows pinched together, wondering who it could be. Rachel and Santana were gone (only for the night, he reminded himself), Kurt was with him, Puck doesn't have enough manners to knock …

He pulled open the door to see Quinn and Sam standing there. "What's up?"

"Dude, why the hell isn't your phone on?" Sam asked in a panic as he pushed into the Hudson home, Quinn following behind him quickly.

"Shit. Must not have turned it on since last night," Finn said as he pulled it from his pocket and fired it up.

Quinn quickly snatched it from his hands. "You don't want to do that. Just grab your wallet and get in the car," she told him before nodding at Sam to go collect Hadley.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, eyes wide and voice shaky.

"It's Rachel and Santana," she said softly. "We're going to get Noah next."

-x-

"Santana, this is a very, very bad idea," Rachel said as she and her friend stepped into the bar which had a large banner proclaiming it to be "Bike Night". "I don't think this is what Kurt meant for us to do when he said we should stay here and have a night on the town. I have to teach Monday morning and I haven't been able to stay up very late and the baby's been kicking really hard lately …"

"Calm the fuck down, Hudson," Santana said as she rolled her eyes. "It's not like they're going to hurt a pregnant chick. And I'm pretty sure I could take any of these guys in here."

"Second hand smoke …"

"Isn't a problem because of the smoking ban. Jesus, Rachel. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I …"

"Please tell me this isn't about …"

"It's not!" she denied quickly. "I just … you know, I'm pregnant," her hands went to her stomach. "I shouldn't be near alcohol."

"You can't get drunk by hanging around drunks," Santana said as she grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her to the bar. "I'll take a Jack on the rocks and get a Shirley Temple for preggo over here," she added to the burly bartender.

"I'd actually just like a water, please," Rachel corrected politely.

And the bar went silent.

-x-

"Q," Puck said from the backseat where he sat with Finn and Kurt, the former trying to dial Rachel's cell phone over and over again, "just fucking tell us what's going on. What the fuck happened to Rachel and San?"

She turned form her spot in the passenger seat and glared at him. "You should know that this is completely your fault. If you hadn't screamed at her, none of this would have happened."

"What the fuck even did happen?" he yelled at her.

"Guys, c'mon," Sam said, his hands gripping the wheel of his Explorer. "We've got another thirty minutes to go before we get there. Could we not fight?"

"Could you just fucking tell us what the fuck is happening right now and why the fuck the girls even fucking went to fucking Dayton and didn't come the fuck home fucking tonight?" Puck cursed as loudly as possible without actually yelling.

"You're so lucky we dropped Hadley off at Carole and Burt's," Quinn said seriously. "That's, like, five hundred dollars in the swear jar."

Finn continued to hit the send button on his phone, his frustration growing more and more with each time it rang once and cut straight to Rachel's voicemail. "Baby, it's me. Please pick up. Even if it's to tell me to fuck off. Please. I love you and I'm really worried. Quinn and Sam won't tell us what's happened and I can't … please be okay. Please send me a text or call me or something. Anything. I love you. I love you so much, Rachel. Please. Please just let me know you're okay." He wiped the tear that fell unwanted from his eye. "Please, baby. Please let me know you're okay," he whispered the last line before hanging up.

Puck stared at his best friend for a moment before dialing Santana's phone. Hers went to voicemail as well. "Uh. Yeah. So. Uh. You know who this is. Because you have caller ID. And I'm guessing you're not picking up because of that. But Finn's losing his shit over here and I'm not completely … unaffected … either. So pick up the fucking phone and tell us what the fuck is going on. Or at least fucking call Q and tell her it's okay for her to tell us what the fuck is happening! God, you're fucking frustrating! When the fuck did you become the fucking drama queen?" he yelled into the phone. "Jesus! Just …" he blew out a heavy breath. "I know I fucked us up, okay? I know I did. But this isn't fucking funny, San. Not even a little bit. So answer your fucking phone."

As soon as Puck flipped his phone shut, Kurt turned to him with a sour look on his face. "I don't know how you kept her for this long but you, Noah Puckerman, are shit with words."

"First, fuck off. Second, who the fuck asked you. And third, shut the fuck up. I don't care if she doesn't love me back right now. I just … she needs to be okay. She can fucking dump my no-good as soon as we get to wherever the fuck we're going," he directed that last part to Sam and Quinn, "and I can see for myself she didn't get hurt or dead or something."

"We're almost there," Sam said just before his GPS's crazy accented woman said "Four miles to destination."

"Where are we going?" Finn asked again as he shot another text off to Rachel's cell phone.

"JW's," Quinn said.

"You're gonna need to fuckin' repeat that," Puck said as Finn's head snapped up next to him and Kurt's eyes went wide.

"Judging by your reaction," Sam said, "I don't think she is."

"I'm going to fucking kill her when I get my hands on her."

"Please tell me that JW's is not the place I'm thinking it is," Finn said, a small tremor in his voice. "Please tell me my wife isn't in the one bar in Dayton that houses the highest bar fight rate in the whole freaking state. Please, Sam. Please tell me it's a different place.

"It's not," Sam said as he pulled onto the street JW's was on.

And there were about five police cars, lights flashing, parked out front.

-x-

These guys weren't so bad once you got to know them.

Not that she cared to know any of them, as most of them were very large, very bald men with more tattoos than the population of Lima covering their large bodies.

"So, what has a pretty, little pregnant lady like you walking into a bar like this?" Bubba (no lie) said as he leaned against the bar and offered her a slightly-less-creepy-than-Reggie's smile.

"Her," Rachel nodded to Santana, who was playing pool with Bart. "We needed to go out tonight and she decided that this … establishment … would suit our needs just fine."

"I can suit your needs," he told her, his eyebrows waggling.

"While I don't doubt that you're very … suitable … I doubt my husband," she said as she lifted her left hand to show off her ring, "would be very understanding."

"Baby daddy don't need to know," he said as he stepped closer to her.

She was about to retort when she heard it.

Thanks to her friendship with Noah and Santana, she knew exactly what a shattering beer bottle sounded like. She turned her head quickly to see Santana grabbing another bottle and tossing it at Bart.

"Listen you skeezy, dirty, backwoods, nasty redneck!" she yelled. (This is the point where Rachel texted Quinn and told her she would need some serious backup.) "I have a man. And he could take you out faster than I could but he's not here and I have no problem taking care of my own business. So if you wanna go, let's go. I can kick your ass from her to next Monday."

"Excuse me," Rachel said as she slipped from her stool to head over to the pool table. "San," she said as she reached her friend. "Maybe we should just go."

"Screw that, Hudson. He just copped a feel."

"Are you that surprised?"

"It wasn't my ass or my tits, Rachel," Santana told her, the Latina's eyes dark and angry.

"You mean he grabbed your …" she said as her eyes wandered down to the zipper of Santana's jeans.

"You bet he did," Santana snarled as she turned back to where Bart was high-fiving some of his buddies. "And now Imma take his ass down."

"San!" Rachel hissed as she grabbed her friend's arm to keep her from attacking the man. "Don't. You're going to get arrested."

"They won't call the fuckin' cops, Hudson," Santana said as she rolled her eyes. "I bet half of these fuckers have warrants out. They'll love the show. Promise."

"Santana, please don't do this. This is me begging. For my sake and your own, don't do it."

"Fine," Santana sighed out after she watched Rachel's eyes tearing up. She knew that if she fought this idiot that Rachel would be caught in the middle of it and she didn't want anything happening to her friend or the baby. So she shook her head and moved back to the bar. "C'mon."

Rachel smiled and turned to follow Santana when she felt a hand on her rear. She turned around and saw Bart standing there with a smug smile on his face. Before she knew what she was doing, she brought her hand back and slapped him harder than she slapped Finn the day she found out Quinn was pregnant.

Apparently, she needed to take her own advice and walk away.

She immediately cried out, "I'm sorry!" but Bart grabbed her by the arm.

Then Bubba grabbed him by the arm and shoved him away, yelling that no real man treats a lady that way, especially not a pregnant one.

And then the situation escalated.

Gerry the bartender quickly called the police and pulled Rachel and Santana behind the bar.

Within moments, Dayton's finest were there and there were shouts and handcuffs and more police and all Rachel really wanted was her husband.

Santana wanted in on the action but knew she couldn't leave Rachel alone and in the state she was in.

And then the lights were thrown on and the music cut off and Rachel and Santana were removed from behind the bar and there were two female police officers questioning them.

And that's when Finn and Puck burst through the door.

"Rachel!" Finn called as he bobbed and weaved through police and patrons alike. "Rachel? Where are you, baby?"

"Finn?" she called as she hopped off her barstool, ignoring the officer's stern "Ma'am!"

"Rachel?" he called again, stopping dead in the middle of the room and turning in circles until he saw her. And then he ran to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, baby. Thank God. Are you okay? What happened?" He hands skimmed over her unblemished skin, rested on her protruding stomach, then moved to cup her cheeks. "Are you okay?"

"The fuck happened?" Puck asked as he sidled up beside Finn and looked to where Santana was walking towards them.

"I got lecture about not starting a bar fight then Rachel goes ahead and does it herself." She turned to Rachel with a little scowl. "I'm kinda pissed at you for doing that, by the way. You could have been hurt."

"But I didn't mean to!" Rachel said, her eyes locking on Finn's. "I promise. It was instinct."

"Baby, just tell me what happened," he said as he hugged her close, neither caring that their fight technically hadn't been resolved.

"Well, I was at the bar drinking water and San was playing pool with Bart and then she threw a bottle at him because he grabbed her crotch and then I convinced her not to fight him and then he grabbed my behind and I slapped him. But I said I was sorry!"

"Wait," Puck said, his brow furrowed. "Some douche bag grabbed your crotch?" he asked Santana.

"Yeah," she said, mind going back to the moment and how angry she was. "And I could have kicked his ass if Rach hadn't stopped me."

"Which one?"

"That one," Rachel said without thinking as she pointed to Bart, who was standing, handcuffed between two police officers.

No one was fast enough to stop Puck from marching over, shouting, "Keep your fucking hands off my woman!", and getting a punch of his own in.

And that was how Puck ended up being arrested on a Saturday night in Dayton.