-from time to time-

"I don't feel anything because it didn't mean anything…"

He says this with a furrowed brow, and tightened lips. Because that's how he feels. Felt. But he turns his head, and sees the disappointment in her eyes, the set jaw. Finally, he speaks again, "Do you, um, wanna get out of here? We can go get that burger and I can take you home."

Santana turns to him then, eyes hooded in momentary thought. "You could just leave, you know. Since this was all so meaningless to you," She spits out, and Finn feels even lower than he did a few minutes ago.

"Santana, I-" He halts, not knowing what to really say. He's not in love with her, and she's not even really his friend, this was just an exchange so they could both get what they want- or thought they wanted.

She rolls her eyes, smirk blossoming on her face. "Oh, Finnocence," She goads chidingly. "A deal's a deal and we did the deed, let's just leave it at that, 'kay?" She snips sassily, moving the covers and getting up from the bed. Finn looks at her, bewildered by the sudden change. She gathers her clothes and before heading to the bathroom, she says, "But I really do want that burger, so-"

"No problem," Finn agrees easily before the bathroom door snaps shut.

It's been two days since he promised to stay away from her, but everything changes when they're in Glee, performing a number.

During Dog Days Are Over, he grips her waist –the way she likes it- spinning her around, and he pawns this off as him having fun and not meaning to touch her for the sake of just touching her.

Whatevs.

And then he sits next to her in Glee in a last, desperate attempt to not be situated next to Rachel the whole time. Santana crosses her legs, looking over at him with a risen eyebrow, and he shrugs half-heartedly, as if to say, This doesn't count to our agreement because I don't want to sit next to my ex, so please don't mention it.

Even if there were other seats in the choir room that were free and away from Rachel.

So, Santana smirks, and then her pencil falls in the space between his legs

during Mr. Schue's opening Glee monologue. "Oops." And she reaches down for it at the same time he decides to, and their eyes lock as their foreheads are merely centimeters apart.

"Sorry," Finn whispers reflexively when their fingers brush, pencil forgotton.

Santana cocks her head. "Why're you sorry?" She whispers back.

"I just…I mean, we –I'm not supposed to-"

"Don't have a heart attack, Finn," The Latina grins, eye alight. "You barely laid a finger on me."

She reaches down further and picks up her pencil, keeping her eyes on his the entire time as she reached in-between the gap of his legs, her arm brushing past his inner thigh and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

The male lead's breathing becomes labored and when Santana sends a reassuring wink his way, he nearly misses his cue to begin the song Schue gave him last session.

Ever since then, he tries to put his energy and focus into other things. He adds another five Lbs. to each side of the bar he usually benches in weightlifting –since Santana will sometimes sneak into the locker room, but never the weight-lifting room because of the stench. He stays behind an extra few minutes to perfect his notes in Glee with Mr. Schue –and to prevent bumping into Santana on the way out. He figures that if temptation isn't placed in front of him, he won't do anything he promised he won't do, like touch her, or look at her a little harder than he should, or anything.

Yeah, it should, and will, work.

Except, it doesn't.

The more he tries to avoid her, the more she seems to just appear. In the hallway on his way to class, on the field before football practice.

On his mind when he's in the shower, hand clutching his half stiffened member.

He turns the knob to stop the warm blast of water hitting him in the locker room, and wraps his towel tight around his waist as he steps out.

Santana's lazily filing her nails against the row of lockers, and Finn jumps. Santana notices that the shower has stopped, and smiles. "Have you seen Puckerman?"

Attempting to cover himself failingly with his hands, Finn answers after a moment, "No, but I'm pretty sure he's been hanging out with Lauren a lot lately." And maybe even Rachel goes unsaid.

Santana stands away from the lockers, looking at him questioningly. "What are you doing Frankenteen?"

Finn's cheek goes slightly pink, "Well, you're in the boy's locker room and…you know." I'm kinda naked underneath this towel.

She scoffs with a roll of her eyes. "I've seen it all. And didn't you walk down the hallway naked?"

"I was still wearing boxers," He mutters, heading over to his locker. He still feels embarrassed about that and it reminds him of the Pillsbury Dough boy comments she made that made him a little more than self-conscious. Maybe more than anyone else since she was the first girl to see him naked.

Santana approaches slowly by his side, eyes raking over his tall frame.

"Finn, you're totally hot." She bats her long eyelashes, "And you've been working out- you have a six pack, now." She smirks appreciatively, letting her eyes rest on his still wet abdominals. Her index finger reaches out and makes a trail down from the apex of his pectorals to the valley of his abs.

"Weren't you, um, looking for Puck?" Finn asks in a deeper baritone than usual, gulping past the dry lump in his throat. Santana's finger and gaze is still low on his form, eyes darkened alluringly.

"Not really," She hums, looking up into his eyes now.

"Then why are you in the locker room?"

She steps even closer, finger now riding low on the edge of his towel. "Because the way to get to you is through Puck."

He grabs her finger roughly, halting its movement, and they're so close to each other that she has to look up at him through her dark and long lashes.

It doesn't take her long to see that she's strung a cord within the star quarterback, and his grip trails to her wrist, clenching and unclenching the appendage in his grasp.

"You said that we'd stop playing games with each other, Santana." Finn says,

and the Latina's brow furrows. "I didn't say anything like that; you did." She corrects easily without qualm. Her free hand lands on his right pectoral, tracing shapes on the dampened and flushed skin. "You can't break a promise to someone if you never make it, can you? And why are you so intent on avoiding me anyways? It's not like you're going out with the hobbit, anyways." She remarks, slightly put off when he removes her hand from his person and takes a step back.

"I still care about her," Finn disputes. Santana blinks at him in response.

"Is that why she hangs out with Puck every chance she gets? Because she cares about you too?" The cheerleader scathingly argues, snatching her wrist from his grip. "Why are you wasting your time pining over her when you could be with someone so much better?"

"You mean like you?" His eyes narrow, already anticipating her response.

"Hell yeah," Santana agrees.

His mouth opens, then closes. And finally: "Have you ever loved someone before, Santana?"

Her hand falls away from his skin as if she's been burned by it, and she takes a step back.

"Has someone ever loved you before?" Finn inquires seriously, a bit gentler than before. He continues, grabbing his clothes from his locker, "I can't easily forgive Rachel because I actually loved her. I cared about her and when she did what she did with Puck," He pauses, a sigh on his lips. "It was her disregard for that, for us, that ended us. And even if she's not my girlfriend, she's tried to make me forgive her, but…I just can't, and I don't think I'll ever really forgive her."

He closes his locker and Santana steps away to the end of the adjacent bench, sitting on the edge crossed legged away from him. He looks at her in confusion and she turns her head momentarily, "You should get dressed, you're shivering."

She turns her head back to the front and he looks down at his clothes, realizing she's letting him get dressed without her Vulcan gaze. Finn notices the goosebumps on his arm, and the cold in the locker room returns to his body everywhere but his chest, where Santana's smoldering touch still lingered.

He quickly throws his shirt on and then slips his towel off with a blush on his cheeks, keeping his gaze on Santana's ponytail.

As Finn slips on his boxers, Santana laments off-handedly, "You know, I've made out and hooked up enough with Puck to last me a lifetime. I wouldn't cheat on you with him."

"And what about some other guy who's willing to hook up with you?" Finn asks rhetorically. "I've been in a relationship with two girls, and both chose another guy other me, the same guy you have sex with. I shouldn't have to be second best."

"You aren't, Finn. Don't you see that those girls just use Puck? That those same girls ultimately choose you? That I…" She doesn't finish that sentence. Just lets it hang and filter through the increasingly stifling air. She crosses her arms and sits, wondering when she'll stop caring about him and his thoughts.

Finn zips up his fly, wondering if she was going to say what he thought she was going to say, and lets his duffle bag hang off his shoulder. He walks over towards her, and she looks up at him when he touches her shoulder.

"Do you wanna get a burger, or something?"

"What?"

"I know your coach is kinda crazy –very crazy- and you never really eat at school, but I know you like burgers, so…"

"Yeah," She nods.

He remembers.

Thanks for the reviews on the first part, ladies! I'll make sure to keep 'em coming if you do the same; also, the springing up of these great Fantana fics has been great, really. I'm loving them to pieces. If you have a particular moment between Finn and San that you want me to cover (canon for now) please let me know!

DAC