So here we are. Last ever chapter of this fic! It was supposed to only be a couple thousand words but I got carried away and here we are 13k words later. I just love these too way too much apparently.

I also just wanted to say thank you so much for reading and reviewing this fic, and for sticking it out to the end. I really appreciate it, especially with how long it's been. You've really motivated me to keep going and I love you all.

Please enjoy the last ever AHFOL :)

She slowly steps into the house, smiling as she's enveloped by warmth and the comforting smell of her jasmine diffuser. Rachel takes her time to admire the hallway, freshly decorated from their move to a bigger place (it'd quickly come to their realization that Rachel's things were not going to fit into Finn's tiny apartment, no matter how much he'd insisted). Millie is fast asleep in the window seat staring out onto the quiet street, curled up in a mass of orange, white and black fur.

"Hey princess," she greets her with a gentle stroke, smiling as her cat mewls back happily. In her peripherals, Rachel spies Queenie lingering in the doorway waiting to run to her. She bounces excitedly on her heels while at the same time warily eyeing the cat. After a few too many swats from Millie, Rachel doesn't blame her.

Placing a kiss to Millie's head, she moves to give the dog some attention. "Hey girl." She scratches under her ears, laughing as Queenie jumps up to try and lick her face.

"Finn," she calls out, handing up her thick coat, then repeating his name a few moments later to no response.

She follows the orange glow from the lounge, only to find Finn and Oliver curled up on the couch together. Queenie barks excitedly and jumps up beside them, in the process waking up Finn. He binks rapidly before those sleepy eyes land on her.

Rachel chuckles, "long day?"

Lowering herself next to him, she snuggles into his side happily. There is no better feeling than just being able to enjoy Finn's presence whenever she wants, without hundreds of miles between them. Finn earns a squeal from her as he pulls the woman closer into a tight embrace, "he's driven me crazy today." Despite his words, he still grins, "I am exhausted."

She nods in understanding, a smirk dancing on her lips, "no one said being a parent is easy."

"And they're not called terrible twos for nothing," Finn adds.

"Well, he won't be two for much longer . . ."

Both their eyes rest on Oliver. "Look at him," Finn says, "all cute and innocent. Can't believe this is the same kid who threw his poop at the door today."

She only stares, wide eyed.

"I don't even know where to start, Rach." He throws his head back, "he's normally so good."

"He's lulled you into a false sense of security," she laughs, nuzzling herself against his chest, "he had everyone fooled." Then she continues, "but he didn't sleep very well last night, hence one cranky Oliver."

"Thanks for telling me now."

Her eyes glistening with humor, she lifts her head and leans in for a kiss. "You did good, even if the living room looks like a bomb has hit it." She peers around at the mess, then back to him expectantly.

"Fine, fine, I'm cleaning up." Ever so carefully, he lifts Oliver from his other side and nestles him in the layers of blankets. As he does, he whispers "please don't wake up" over and over. Rachel moves to take out the DVD they'd been watching, with the credits now rolling down the screen.

"Why have you been watching Christmas films?" she laughs.

Though his ears grow pink in embarrassment, he gives her a lopsided grin. "Just 'cause it's February doesn't mean I can't enjoy Christmas." After a few moments of silence, Finn speaks again, "did you have fun at your dads?"

She hesitates, "yeah, I suppose. It's always nice to see them." She purses her lips nervously, tucking some hair behind her ears, "I was actually telling them about – um, that we're probably not gonna have any more kids."

He stops. "Oh."

Rachel gives a defeated nod.

"Did you tell them why?"

"Yeah," she frowns, "I mean, they were totally understanding and great about it as always. I just – I don't know."

Finn appears concerned, thoughtful. Eventually, he puts his thoughts into words, "Rach, you've gotta stop beating yourself up about this."

"What?"

"You're blaming yourself," he clarifies. "It's nobody's fault, Rach." She gives him a grave look in response to that; she's pretty sure that it's her body that is the reason they can't have any more kids. "Look, it's awful, okay?" He meets her in a few strides, wrapping his sturdy arms around the woman, "but we can't spend the rest of our lives . . . regretting what can't be. What's the use?"

Her hands find his, holding on tightly, "I suppose you're right. I am dwelling on this a little."

"I just hate seeing you so sad about it."

Rachel manages a smile then, revelling in the comfort of Finn's arms. At that moment, she feels surrounded by his love and she never wants it to stop. "Love you," she mumbles into his chest.

From behind her, she suddenly hears movement and then a loud cry. Finn scrunches his eyes closed, sighing, "Why did he have to wake up?"

Standing on her tiptoes, she gives him a chaste kiss. "I've got this, you finish cleaning up."

As she tends to an upset Oliver, she feels Finn's eyes on her, watching – worrying. Each time she catches him, she sends a reassuring smile. His words have helped, even if those feelings of guilt still lie low. In spite of them, she knows that Finn is happy with their life, especially now that they're together, and so is she. Even if Oliver acts up from time to time, or the cat and the dog hate each other, and even if they're having to live on a pretty tight budget lately with the size of their mortgage. She wouldn't have it any other way.

And so life goes on.

Oliver starts his new preschool not long after they're fully settled into the new house. He's coped surprisingly well with being uprooted from his life back in England, the only evidence they lived their being his accent. Most of his words sound more English than American, with his accent a little mix of both the countries he'd been jetted back and forth to.

He takes to his new school like a fish to water, thank god, for that means she can go back to auditioning. Jumping back into the New York scene is both exciting and terrifying. She knows that it's time to return, and she relishes in each audition – the good and the bad. Even being in a theatre is like being home; the sounds, the smells and the feeling of belonging that overwhelms her.

She bounces out of her latest audition with joy in her step, practically floating from the praise. The last few hadn't been so fortunate, but this has been the boost in confidence that she needs.

The warm spring sun peeps through the buildings, glistening on the freshly wet ground. She beams as she spots Finn walking toward her, his work bag over his shoulder. As he spots her in turn, his own smile widens and the look of exhaustion suddenly sweeps away. "Hey," he greets her with a searing kiss, arms sweeping her up.

"Hi baby," she squeezes him happily and soaks in his warmth. "How was your shift?"

Finn rubs the back of his head, "long. Last night was a really busy one." He suddenly laughs, "Plus some woman was trying to flirt with me when we were coming back this morning. It was weird."

This causes her to stop in her tracks and narrows her eyes. "What?"

"Yeah," he continues, surprise lingering in his voice, "I think it's the uniform, you know? It makes women go really weird." Her features tighten, lips turning downwards, and Finn quickly notices, suddenly smirking. "Are you jealous?"

She makes an indignant huff, starting to walk ahead of him. Finn, however, catches up with her in a couple of long strides, arms wrapping around her waist. "Rach," he whines, "Don't get upset."

"Upset at what? You letting women throw themselves at you?" she throws back, but when he catches a glimpse of her expression. There's a glint in her eyes as she stares back at him, to which a relieved smile settles onto his lips.

"You're not mad, are you?"

"I trust you, Finn." She explains, "And women can look all they want, but at the end of the day I'm the only girl who gets to see what's underneath that uniform of yours." She isn't sure whether it's the icy breeze or her words, but Finn's cheeks suddenly flood with pink.

He gives a small chuckle, "I like this side of you, Rachel Berry."

"What side?" She tilts her head innocently, though her eyes portray different.

"The possessive one."

Rachel laughs, "I was an only child - I don't like to share."

He pulls her closer at this, hand lowering to hover just over her butt. She can practically hear Kurt snapping out a disgusted comment about their PDA, but Kurt isn't here. And she really doesn't care what the people of New York think. Apparently neither does Finn as his hands becoming all the more adventurous.

"Finn," she giggles, "you are insatiable."

"I'm what?" he asks wickedly.

"You know what I mean," Rachel says, "the other day I could hardly walk. I had to lie to my dads." Finn's expression goes from proud to scared in a matter of nanoseconds – while her dads love him, she's sure they won't be impressed with their sex stories, which are numerous and vivid at the moment. She swears that Finn is determined to get her pregnant. "Don't worry," she pats his hand, "they didn't ask anything else. I don't think they want to be scarred by the thought of their only daughter having sex."

He breathes out a sigh, "Good, your dads can be scary sometimes."

"You're almost thirty," she points out.

"Yeah, and your dad is a lawyer. That's like, the scariest type of person out there." Rachel rolls her eyes, though her smile gives her away. She peers at him through her lashes, finding his gaze ever as intent on her.

He grins, confessing. "But as scary as your parents are, you're totally worth it."

"Smooth."

"Thank – I've been practising."

Rachel giggles into his shoulder, nothing short of adoration on her face. "Oh yeah?" He suddenly grows nervous, a timid smile appearing. "What's wrong?" she teases.

"Nothing," Finn claims, eyes moving around their scenery. "Well – actually. The guys were joking around that I'm some big hopeless romantic with you. And I just realized that . . . um – I totally am." His face softens, hand squeezing hers.

"Good," she announces after a few moments. "That's what I love about you, amongst a lot of other things." Finn grins, eyebrows rising excitedly. "The list is too long to tell you all right now," she laughs.

"But what day?"

She grins, "yeah, one day."

He practically pounces on her when she returns home from rehearsal, lips drawn to her neck as though by some sort of magnetic pull. Any weariness that she'd felt soon disappears, replaced by a sexual thrill deep inside her core. "Finn," she moans as he nibbles her soft skin, "b – bed."

Finn lifts her with ease, to which Rachel responds by wrapping her legs around his waist. In this position, she can feel his throbbing cock even with the layers of clothes between them, and she groans as she thinks of him inside of her. The pair fall to the bed a flurry of limbs and flying clothes. She strips Finn faster than she ever has before until he's just wearing his socks. If she wasn't so horny, she'd be laughing at the pair of The Simpsons attire.

She straddles Finn then, eyeing up his erection with lust in her eyes. Finn seems to be enjoying her body just as much, hands grazing every inch of soft, silky skin. "You are so beautiful," he says, eyes soaking her in. "How have you had a baby?"

Rachel laughs, "Finn, wrong time to ask that question." She'd bounced back pretty quickly from Oliver's birth, the only signs being the tell-tale stretch marks across her belly.

"Oh right," he says sheepishly, leaning up to kiss her. In one swift move, he spins them so that he's on top, his actions assertive yet careful. Kissing her quickly, he reaches for the nightstand and pulls a condom out.

She pauses then, placing a hand on his.

"What?" he frowns.

"Finn, you don't need to." Confusion spreads across his features until it settles on realization.

His brows furrow into a scrunch. "But what if . . .?"

She shrugs, "then I get pregnant. That's not so bad, is it?" Though they haven't spoken about this much – being such a touchy subject – she knows how he feels about it. And she knows where her heart lies.

Finn throws the condom over his shoulder, lips attacking hers with fever. She feels as he lines himself up and then fills her up in one swift moment. He feels amazing on any given day, but without the barrier both close their eyes in utter bliss. Finn starts thrusting immediately, each one taking her breath away with the sweet friction. Finn slows himself, as though wanting to savor each second of their time, but she knows that he's trying to steady himself, too. He makes that pretty obvious.

"Mailman, mailman, mailman," he mutters under his breath.

"Finn," she breathes, "it's okay. Just let go."

He doesn't need any more encouragement. A few strokes later he comes inside, moaning loudly as he spills his seed completely. Breathing heavily, he stares down at her. "I'm sorry Rach, it just – it felt so good."

"Don't apologize." She suddenly grins, "it's actually kind of a compliment." Still, the woman shifts uncomfortably. "But I'm still really turned on." Her eyes close in frustration.

Finn suddenly smirks, "I'll gladly be of service." Without waiting for a response, he pushes her legs open and moves in, hot breath touching her swollen clit. Rachel's body screams out for more, hips lifting up.

His steady hands pull her back down, holding her still against the bed despite her whimpering for more. She can see him enjoying her suffering, especially as his fingers dance around her most sensitive parts, always teasing.

"Finn," she keens.

She can feel his cum slowly dripping out of her, and when she lifts her neck to stare at Finn, he's transfixed by it. "You are so beautiful," he insists, thumbs circling her inner thighs and doing nothing to calm the heat inside of her. Rachel twists and turns, only for his hold to strengthen. He smirks again, before lowering his head between her legs.

The moment his mouth meets her sex, her eyes roll to the back of her head. "Oh fuck."

"This is nice," Finn says as he looks out across the lake. He leans back, sporting a pair of dark sunglasses and an awful shirt that Kurt had begged him not to wear. He didn't listen.

She nods in agreement, eyes moving to where Oliver is splashing around in the water. "Yeah, I think my dads getting this place was a good idea. It's so nice to be away from the City." Rachel basks in the glorious sunshine, skin practically glowing beneath its rays. "Looks like we got lucky with the weather, too."

"Yeah," he agrees, then laughs, "I suppose you're used to it raining all the time."

"It didn't rain all the time in London . . . just – a lot." Rachel lets her mind wander to her old home for a few moments, reminiscing about a few months prior. It feels as though an age has passed since then, each day spent growing closer to Finn than she ever thought was possible.

When she turns to glance at him again, she finds the man staring intently at her. "What?"

"Do you miss it?" he asks honestly, with curiosity on the tip of his tongue.

Rachel responds with a bittersweet smile, eyes meeting the floor. "I guess so. I miss my friends – I know that I can skype them and all that, but it's not really the same, is it?" He shakes his head, having been all too familiar with that particular situation. "But," she counters, eye pensive, "I don't miss it as much as I missed being with you when I lived there."

He smiles then, proudly so.

"Not that you didn't know that," Rachel chuckles softly, enjoying the way the warm wind billows through her hair, "I think I told you every time you called."

"You might have mentioned it."

"I didn't want you to forgot," she rests her head on his shoulder, sighing in content. "I love it here," Rachel's says, eyes moving from the shimmering blue lake to the expanse of trees dancing in the breeze. "Maybe we should come every year – make it a tradition."

Finn grins, "that sounds awesome. Maybe one time we could even try camping!"

"No." Her eyes bulge, "no, no, no."

"What's wrong with camping?"

"Um, bugs, being outside. Cold, uncomfortable tents outside. You can't shower or . . ." Her face scrunches up, "go to the bathroom. You could die." She crosses her arms, "I've read articles about how dangerous camping can be."

Eyes intent on her, he only laughs, "Yeah, that's only if you're by yourself and in some remote place where murderers live – of course." Rachel gives him some pretty serious side eye, to which he sighs, "No camping then?"

Rachel shrugs, starting to put sun block on Finn's red nose, "take Oliver. I, meanwhile, will remain is the safe cabin with a war, comfy bed and all the conveniences of a modern life."

"You're no fun," he mumbles under his breath.

She keeps her eyes trained on Finn as they step inside the house, head racing with thoughts. He's quiet, too quiet, and she's pretty sure she knows the reason why.

The chance to question him has to wait, as he quickly goes to walk the dog while she gets Oliver ready for bed. Encouragingly though, he does plant a quick kiss on her cheek as he slips out of the door. The way his lips curve downwards give him away too easily, and she matches his expression as she watches him go.

By the time he gets back, she herself is already snuggled up in bed with a book on her lap. Despite her best efforts, none of the words have gone in, her thoughts in another story completely – a much less fictional one. "Hey," she says softly, bordering on caution, as he enters the room. "Could you just check on –"

"Fast asleep," Finn beats her to it. A smile tentatively makes its way to her lips, but drops as he heads straight for the bathroom.

"Finn."

He stops, spinning on his heel and peering to her in question. Her only response is a soft pat of the bed, with her expression leaving little choice to the man. Finn sighs, as though having expected this, though relents either way. "I'm not upset or anything," he starts, holding up his hands in protest, "if you think that's what this is."

She eyes him carefully, "they were only joking Finn. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," he almost grunts, rubbing the back of his head thoughtfully. "I just . . . it's not the easiest of subjects -"

"I thought that you had gotten over everything that happened with Maddy?"

"I have. I mean, mostly anyway. The thought of marriage still makes me a little uncomfortable." He says the last words in a quiet murmur, as though he doesn't want her to hear them. She's not going to lie; it hurts her a little. Not that he doesn't want to get married any time soon, but that he's still clearly got some baggage from his previous marriage.

She closes her book now, a hand reaching out and delicately taking hold of his. Finn smiles, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles in soft patterns. "That's okay," she says, "I mean, it has only been a couple of years since . . ."

"Since I was free of her."

Rachel worries her lower lip. "Was it really that bad?"

He doesn't look at her, instead staring at the covers with an intensity she rarely sees. "It started off fine, I guess –"

"But?"

A pause

"But she just . . . she made me feel worthless. Like, she's second guess everything I did all the time, she'd yell even when I did what I thought was right – don't even get me started on when I messed up." He sighs, finally peering up to her. She sees the hurt swimming in his eyes, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "And I know people have it worse, we never actually hurt it each physically, but it was all just mind games and insults and . . ."

"And?" she dares to ask after a moment of silence.

"I just turned into a different person."

She nods in understanding. "I noticed that, even when we weren't speaking much." Rachel leans in closer to him now, hoping he appreciates the level of comfort it brings. "You weren't happy."

"Happy?" he scoffs. "I was so miserable. I hated being married. I remember waking up one day and thinking 'is this it? Is this my life now?'" Curling into himself, he sighs, "I guess the idea of marriage is still a bad one for me."

"I'm sorry baby," she says.

Finn responds more to her now, arm moving to wrap around her tiny frame. She smiles at the way his fingers curl protectively around her waist, placing her own upon them. "You don't need to be sorry. It's over now." His expressions grows is earnest, "and I do want to marry you Rachel. I know that your dads want it and my mom, and I know how much you want it. But –"

"Shhh," Rachel hushes him, "it will happen when you're ready."

He smiles sincerely, causing a heart-warming rush of love to flood through her.

"I will be, I promise."

"Who knows?" she laughs, "Maybe I'll propose to you."

"Only if you get me a nice ring," he counters, dimples appearing as he grins. Rachel relishes in the sight of them, stealing a sweet kiss from her boyfriend. "I love you," he announces, bad mood lifted. Rachel hopes that worries of marriage won't plague him again, not soon anyway.

"Finn."

"Finn!"

A pause.

"Finn!"

"What is it?" he appears in the room, messy hair atop his head, red cheeks and a pissed off look.

She tries desperately to ignore the itching sensation all over her skin, scrunching her eyes closed in annoyance. "I need some more ointment on – it itches so bad," she says miserably.

"One second," he almost snaps, though his words are hard to hear over Oliver's screeching, "your son has won priority right now."

"My son?" Rachel grumbles. "My son?" Despite her feeling of unwell, she stands on wobbly feet and heads into the kitchen where Finn is attempting to put cream all over Oliver's body. Her poor little baby, also suffering from the chicken pox, is having none of it, kicking and screaming with each passing second. Finn has to practically pin him down, though he winces as he gets a particularly shrill scream in his ear.

He sees her from the corner of his eyes, wrapped up in blankets with a red, blotchy face. Rachel's positive she does not want to see her own reflection right about now. "Please help," he practically begs her and okay, she does feel kind of sorry for him. This is day number two of the pox strike down in their house and it's not getting any easier.

Pushing past her exhaustion, she helps Finn with Oliver and then lowers the boy to the floor, who continues to cling to her and cry. She knows the feeling.

It takes them all of fifteen minutes to calm him down and put him for a nap, before she ends up lay sprawled out on the couch again. The blankets irritate her sensitive skin, but she's freezing without them. In the end, she throws them away in a frustrated fit and internally laments her luck. "Why did I never have this as a kid?" she grumbles out loud. "Why is this happening now?"

Finn walks in just as she's wiping her snotty nose and she stares to him through hooded eyelids. "How you holding up?"

"Will you please put some lotion on me now?" she all but begs.

"Only if you stop yelling," he says, looking as frazzled as he sounds, "this isn't fun for me, either."

She at least has the decency to look guilty. "Sorry."

He sighs, "Lemme go get the lotion for you."

Her pout turns into a genuine smile, especially as he offers to put it on her. "You are the best boyfriend," she starts, lifting up the back of her pajama top. She sighs as the cold lotion hits her skin, calming the inflammation in an instant. Finn's hands are gentle as he tends to her, finger tips massaging away.

"That feels so good," she whimpers out, closing her eyes. The combination of satisfying her itchy skin and Finn's skilled hands on her is a match made in heaven, so much that she can't help the soft moan that follows.

She pushes her back closer to him, "a little lower – ooh, yes!" Her breathing deepens, "ahhh."

"Rach." He holds in a chuckle.

"No, no – shhh. Keep going, baby."

He does as ordered, moving his ministrations up to her shoulders and the back of her neck. Rachel practically turns to jelly in his hands, her delighted words encouraging Finn's movements. "Finn," she breathes out listlessly, only for him to stop. She snaps around, eyebrow shooting up to the ceiling in question.

Finn almost looks embarrassed.

"What?"

"You're . . ." he starts, "you're making some very – um, sexual noises, Rach."

A pink hue floods her face in an instant, the woman blinking at him, "I was?"

He nods. "Yeah and it's . . ." He stares to the couch, "you just gotta stop, babe." Curiously, she peers down below too, spying the obvious tent in his pants and suddenly his hesitation makes sense. Even so, she feels flattered. Even covered in chicken pox and looking an absolute mess, she's still managed to turn Finn on.

"Sorry," she mumbles sheepishly. "And thanks, for looking after us."

"I think I deserve a medal." He announces, giving a lopsided smile.

Rachel doesn't disagree with him.

Rachel bursts into the hospital, her heart frantically drumming in her chest as she asks for Finn's room in a jumble of words she barely recognises herself. Thankfully, they seem to understand her, smiling with sympathy as someone directs her.

Her feet carry her as fast as they can, all the time possible scenarios rushing through her head – none of them good. She'd been at rehearsals when she'd got the call and since then the journey had been a blur of panic and fretting. She doesn't even remember how she got here.

But the next thing she knows she's stepping inside Finn's room, finding him sat wearily in the bed, looking bruised and battered. "Hey Rach," he starts quietly, having cut the conversation short with his mom. Carole turns, smiling at the sight of her and standing up to hug the woman. Rachel relishes in the strong hold of Carole, her sweet smelling perfume putting her somewhat at ease.

"How are you, sweetheart?" she asks, smiling at her.

"Alright," she sighs, her eyes moving over to Finn. "Worried."

He brushes off her concern. "I'm fine. Just a little scratch."

"Finn, a burning pipe fell on your head."

"I had my helmet on," he argues.

"Finn." Her voice is delicate, as though about to crack. She lowers herself to the bed beside him, hand finding easily. "What if it was more than a concussion?" He's at a loss for words, only staring at her. "You could have broken something, or worse!"

"It's my job," he emphasises. "There's always a risk that something could happen." Finn's thumb brushes over her knuckles in what she thinks is supposed to comfort her, but his words have the opposite effect.

"You're not making me feel any better."

"Nor me," Carole pitches in.

His face falls further. "Look, I know that you guys worry, but this is a good job. A job that I love." Rachel's expression pinches together, a sigh following. "You wouldn't want me to ask you to give up your play, would you?"

"No," she mumbles, adding, "although the risk of me getting hurt is statistically a lot lower than your risk." Finn stares. "Long shot, huh?"

"A little," he cracks a smile.

There's a drawn out pause, before she sighs. "I'm glad you're okay. When I got the call I thought so much worse." Rachel frowns, "don't you ever do that to me again!" As she speaks, she gives him a light shove that causes the man to wince. "Sorry," she says sheepishly.

"I'm still kinda sore." He perks up slightly, "but the doctor said I can be discharged soon."

"He also said you need a couple days rest," Carole reprimands the way only a mother can, causing Finn to zip his mouth closed.

"Rest?" Rachel's brow rises, "with Oliver all weekend. That sounds . . . impossible."

"Burt and I can have him," Carole smiles softly, "it's been too long since I've seen my grandbaby anyway."

"You saw him last week, mom." Finn rolls his eyes.

"We're love that," Rachel interjects when she sees bickering about to start, sending an award winning smile toward Finn's mom. "It'll actually be nice to have the weekend to ourselves. It's been so long."

"Oh yeah?" He smirks, then waggles his eyebrows.

"Finn!"

Carole laughs along, a hand falling on Rachel's shoulder. "It's okay, dear. You two are young, enjoy being together. But make sure that you rest, Finn Hudson. Otherwise you won't just have Rachel miffed off with you."

"Yes mom," he chants.

"Good boy."

Rachel watches the two with a fond glancing, hoping that she and Oliver share the same relationship that Finn does with his mom at that age. Even one half as good would be a blessing, she thinks.

"Hey mum, look!" Oliver bounces around the monkey enclosures, stopping in front of some adorable monkeys with bright orange fur. "What does it say?" he points to the sign and looks up to her expectantly.

She bends down slightly, reading aloud, "a golden lion tamarin." She follows his line of sight, "aww, look there's a baby one."

His face pinches together in joy. "It's so cute." Finn returns just as Oliver's pressing his face against the glass to try and get further into the enclosure. Two of the tamarins move forward curiously, tilting their head at the sight of him. He laughs as one tries to touch him.

Finn grins, "Maybe they think you're one of them." Oliver squeals as Finn lifts him into his arms and places him atop his shoulders. "What do you think, mom – should we leave him here?"

"Hmm," she taps her lips thoughtfully, "I don't know, do you think he'd eat all those vegetables?" She points to the food lining the enclosure.

"I don't wanna be a monkey!" Oliver announces, shaking his head defiantly.

"Too late." Finn manoeuvres him so he's in his arms, tickling his tiny belly. She watches him giggle and kick his legs, her heart swelling with pride at the sight of these two. It's times like this where she knows coming back to New York was the right thing to do, if only to see these two together and happy.

When Oliver's feet finally touch the ground again, he reaches for the map and points to the grizzly bears. "Let's go!" he grabs both of their hands and tugs at them. "Faster," he grumbles, dramatically pulling and groaning when they walk at their normal pace.

"We're coming, bud," Finn laughs. "You can run ahead if you want." He does exactly that, running on his lanky legs toward the enclosure as they follow. "Not too far!" Finn shouts over the noise of the other visitors. "Stop at that tree Oliver!" He watches as the four year old slows near a face painting kiosk, turning to them expectantly. "Uh oh, looks like it's about to get expensive."

She laughs, "The joys of having a kid."

This seems to set the cogs turning in Finn's mind. "Speaking of which . . ." he pauses, not tentative. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she says curtly.

"Rach."

Her mood has done a complete 180 spin, with not even Oliver's smiling face in the distance bringing her own back. "What do you want me to say?" she frowns, "I had a miscarriage – I'm doing the best I can be."

"You haven't spoken about it since it happened last week," he points out, "I dunno . . . I just thought maybe you'd wanna talk?" Finn looks hopeful then and she knows that he's trying to help, she really does. But that doesn't mean that it hurts any less. And okay, she hadn't even known she was pregnant until the miscarriage; despite that, she still needs time to mourn.

She looks up to Finn, finding it hard to displace the frown she wears. "I don't think this is the right place to talk about it," she sighs, "it's supposed to be a fun day out."

"Oh," he visibly deflates. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Rachel sucks in a breath, "your concern is extremely touching, but no, not really." His hand seems to grasp onto hers that little bit tighter, as if he's scared she's going to let go. "But just to put your mind at rest . . . I'm okay."

"You sure?"

She finds himself staring into his hazel eyes, the vulnerability in them hitting her right in the core. Rachel squeezes his hand back, "I'm sure. I need time, that's all."

"I can give you that."

Managing a smile now, she leans into his side and lets him wrap his arm around her. Rachel fits comfortably into his side, feeling enveloped in love. She matches Oliver's smile by the time they reach him.

"Can I get my face painted?" he rushes up to the pair, fists held together as he begs. "Please, please, please, please, please."

Finn sighs, "How much is it?"

"Five dollars." He holds up all fingers on one of his hands.

"That's gonna cost you."

He tilts his head to the side in confusion. "Huh?"

"One hug and two kisses." Finn announces.

A grin spreads across his sons face before he dives toward Finn and jumps in his arms. He plants a sloppy kiss on both of Finn's cheeks, then reaches out for Rachel. She happily takes him, grinning as he gives her a kiss too and then jumps down. Finn fishes out the money for him.

They both watch him run to the kiosk. "At least we know that we can buy his love in the future if we ever need to," he jokes."

"Finn," she scoffs, elbowing his ribs. "We don't need to buy his love."

"It's nice to know we have options though."

She laughs fondly at her boyfriend. "You're such a goofball."

"Bedtime, bedtime!" Oliver skips around his room as he sing songs the word and she gets an awful feeling that bed time isn't going to be as easy as it normally is.

"Yes," she grabs hold of him before he can continue to gallivant around the room like a madman, "and that means that you need to be in your bed."

He tilts his head upwards, grinning adorably up at her. "Will you read me a story?"

Rachel smiles, gently lowering him to the soft mattress. "Of course," she says, "what do you want?" she expects him to grab the usual suspects; the cat in the hat or the lion, the witch and the wardrobe. But today he returns with something different, something she's never seen before. "The Princess of New York," she laughs a little at the title, wondering if it's one of these new modern children's books that combine real life with the whimsicalities of fiction.

"Alright then, in bed you go." With rehearsed movements, she gets him under the covers and tucks them to his sides, smiling when he giggles at her cold hands.

"Wait, wait!" he suddenly stops her, reaching for his stuffed cat before snuggling back under the covers.

"You good?"

He nods eagerly.

"Okay," Rachel leans against the backboard of his bed, trying to get comfortable. Her legs stretch out alongside his tiny ones, and her smile grows impossibly large as he nests into her side. She delicately opens the book, beginning to read the words slowly for Oliver, "once upon a time there lived a Princess. Just like any other, she was kind and beautiful, and her voice was the envy of the whole kingdom."

Oliver watches the words as she points the each one, soaking in the information. She even sees him mouthing along to the ones that he knows. At that, pride swells inside of her.

"All she wanted to do was to sing for all of her subjects and make them happy in return."

"Did she sing as good as you?" Oliver asks innocently.

"Maybe," she smiles, "but that would be pretty hard to beat your mom, right?" He nods, eagerly reaching for the next page.

"Being so beautiful, she could have had any suitor of her choice, but the Princess only had eyes for one man – a young knight. He was a simple man that had love for two things; his Kingdom and his Princess. Only, neither told each other how they felt."

She hears a sigh from Oliver, "why did they not tell each other?"

"Sometimes . . . things aren't that simple," she explains, "adults are silly, huh?"

"Really silly."

Rachel peers to the next page, reading aloud, "but tragedy befell the two when the knight found another; a maiden of another Kingdom. Brooklyn." She snickers at this bit, though something about the story is starting to become oddly familiar. "When the Princess found out, she was heartbroken. Especially when she found out she was going to have a baby."

"What?" Oliver frowns. "But grandad said that you need two people to make a baby." He rests his chin on his hands, confused.

"Well, let's read on." She suggests, a suspicious feeling that the author of this new book is more close to home than originally though. "You see," she continues, "the princess and the knight had been in so much love that they'd created a baby – as that is where babies come from and nothing else." Rachel grins, shaking her head at that part.

"Babies comes from love?" Her son interrupts once more.

"Yes," she nods, "that's how you . . . make a baby."

He frowns. "Weird."

"Anyway," Rachel insists, "the Princess took her baby to another Kingdom, where she could sing and be happy, for she could not be happy to see her knight with someone else. She was missed by all. Her family, her friends – but without a doubt the knight, who still loved her more than anything, missed her every day and his son, the young Prince." She feels her heart beating quickly as she reads on, almost forgetting that Oliver is an audience to the story too. It's been so long since the heartache of the past, and the reminder brings a swell of emotions up.

"Back in the Kingdom of New York, the knight comes to the horrible conclusion that the fair maiden he married is not a maiden at all, but a horrid witch sent to make their lives miserable!"

"Oh no."

Rachel snuggles further into Oliver. "Mhmm huh. And the witch made him very sad, so sad that he could barely be a knight and protect the Kingdom he loved. All he could do was hope for a solution. Until one day, he found the Princess again and as kind and wonderful as she was – she helped him defeat the witch."

"Ooh, ooh – did they melt her?"

"I don't think so," she laughs.

Oliver visibly deflates, though keeps his eyes trained on the book, "then what happened?"

"Well," Rachel smiles, continuing the story, "with the witch gone, the Knight and the Princess were free to be together. They had both learned a lot from their time apart – most of all. That being honest is the most important thing, and so they confessed how they truly felt about each other." She stares softly at the pages, thinking back to the moment Finn she and Finn had opened up about everything that day at the lake house.

"They thought that it would be easy, but the Princess had made a new life in the other Kingdom. As much as she loved the Knight, she had people that counted on her and the small Prince." When she turns to Oliver, she sees him frowning once more.

"Did she go back to the Kingdom?" he asks curiously.

"She did."

They both turn at the sound of Finn's voice, Rachel narrowing her eyes slightly at the man. She knows that he wrote this. He ignores her, instead leaning down and turning onto the next page. "They loved each other so much that they couldn't bear being apart and in the end she returned so that they could live happily ever after with their Prince."

"Finn," she says softly as Oliver celebrates in the background.

"Shh, it's not finished." He gestures for her to continue after she stares at him in curiosity.

Rachel clears her voice, following his wish. "But there was one thing missing and the family was not complete, not yet. She was still waiting to marry her fair knight," Rachel pauses, throat hitching slightly, "she waited and waited and waited . . . until one day he finally plucked up the courage." She's not used to the way he voice shakes as she speaks, the control over her words quickly gone.

She then turns, finding Finn on one knee.

"Oh my God," she whispers, a hand reaching up to her face, "Finn."

"Rachel Berry." He says, a nervous, half smile the pride of his face, "Would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Completely shocked, she struggles to process the words. It takes a few moments before she feels Oliver shifting on the bed, standing up to whisper in her ear. "I think the Princess should say yes."

Lower lip wobbling, she nods. She manages to push out a tearful, "yes," before throwing herself into Finn's arms. He catches her easily, engulfing her in a tight hug that Oliver soon gets it on. In the midst of it all, Finn slips the ring onto her finger and she admires it with a brimming heart. Her mind is spinning, happiness and joy and excitement swirl around inside her, and she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. In the end, it's a mixture of both.

"You will?" he asks, teary eyed too.

"I would love to be your wife." She suddenly grins, "The book –"

He shrugs off her words. "Ah, it was nothing. I got some help from Kurt and this little guy." Finn ruffles Oliver's hair, who giggles and dives into his chest for a tight hug.

"You knew?" she stares to her son in disbelief. The four year old grin mischievously. My son has clearly inherited my acting talents, she thinks as she pulls him closer and kisses his forehead. "Thank you," Rachel breathes, "I loved it."

"And now you can live happily ever after!" Oliver exclaims.

His dad pulls them both in close. "Yeah," he breathes, "we can."

She slowly steps out in the garden, tiptoeing up to the two figures sat huddled together. "Hey guys, how's it going?" She joins Finn and Oliver on the blanket, seemingly producing a plate out of nowhere, "I brought cookies! I even baked them into dinosaurs – good call on that cutter, Oliver."

Her son grins, reaching for the stegosaurus, "thanks mommy." Moments later, Finn's hand dives in too, taking three at once.

Rachel huffs, "Finn, really?"

"I'm hungry," he shrugs, then moves back to the telescope, "babe, this this is awesome. Can't believe Burt didn't want it."

"One man's trash is another man's treasure," she quotes wistfully, earning a look from both the boys. "Anyway, you seen anything cool yet?

Oliver starts pointing out stars from his astronomy book, excitedly peering through the telescope every few minutes. "I wanna see a falling star!" he announces.

"Maybe we'll get lucky," Finn smiles, his eyes glistening as he stares up. He stuffs his mouth with the cookies, making noises of appreciation. "Hmm, these are good."

Rachel beams proudly. "Well, they are my famous sugar cookies. They're famous for a reason, y'know."

They quickly fall into easy conversation about anything and everything, like Oliver's school, her upcoming auditions – even the antics of cat and dog. She leans back against the blanket staring up at the stars as Finn and Oliver start naming constellations. Rachel grins as she enjoys the moment, the perfect example of father son bonding that she knows Finn lives for. She can't wait for them to share more moments like this; Finn really is an amazing dad. Better than she could have ever asked for, and as she stares up at the beautiful sky, she can't help but think how lucky she is.

"Okay," she stands in the kitchen facing Finn and Oliver. Even Queenie is sat in line with them, looking oddly regal. "We've got a lot of things to do and not a lot of time to do it thanks to dad oversleeping."

"It's Christmas!" Finn grumbles, throwing his hands in the air, "I can sleep in if I want."

"Shhh, dad – don't interrupt mom."

She smiles proudly, "thank you baby." Finn only rolls his eyes, though gestures for her to carry on, "as your father has oh so kindly volunteered us to host Christmas dinner, we need to get start ASAP. It may be ten thirty, but it is never too early to prep!" She's met with less than enthusiastic faces, but proceeds nonetheless. "Alright boys, so Oliver – you are on table setting duties plus making sure all of your toys are relocated to your room before people arrive at 16:00. Do you accept your mission?"

"Sir, yes sir."

Again, she gives Finn an "I told you" look. Practising this with Oliver was definitely not a waste of time, thank you very much.

"Finn, you are leading the turkey mission with your mom's signature stuffing because she will still not tell me the recipe, no matter how much I ask"

"Now is not the time to bring this up."

"Duly noted," She nods curtly, "you will also lead the command is way of mash potatoes – I know how you love them – and three different types of gravies. In which you have promised that one will be vegetarian and quote on quote, the best damn gravy I will ever have in my life." She peers up from her clipboard, "and I will cover all other sides, including but not limited to roasted vegetables, baked zucchini, roast potatoes and cranberry sauce. For the pièce de résistance, I will be making a delicious cake with Oliver's favourites – chocolate sponge, chocolate mousse, ganache and a white chocolate polar bear decoration. Basically a lot of chocolate."

Oliver jumps on the spot. "Yes! This is the best Christmas ever."

She beams proudly. "Alright Hudsons, we all have our assignments and exactly five hours, twenty seven minutes before touch down, let's get to work!"

With that, Oliver runs off to no doubt play with his toys while he still has the chance while she finds all her baking stuff.

"You don't think you're taking this a little far?" Finn questions as he watches the intensity she begins with.

"I've never made a Christmas dinner before. Forgive me if I want to do it right."

He pauses, "I thought you wanted to impress my mom?"

"That too."

"My mom already loves you." She sets a harsh look on him. "But I'm sure she'll love you even more after today.

"I can't help it if I'm a perfectionist Finn. You agreed to this when you married me!"

He laughs then, only to shake his head in bemusement. "Fine, fine. I'll play along." He starts setting up herbs and vegetables on the side, before meandering over to the fridge. Finn pauses, then turns back to her. "Um, Rach?"

"Yeah?"

Finn frowns. "Where's the turkey?"

"What do you mean "where's the turkey?"" she snaps her head up, rushing over to the fridge. "You were supposed to buy it!"

"What?"

"I – I asked you to!" She points at him.

He pushes her hand down. "You didn't ask me. You went shopping yesterday, did you not think to check?!"

Rachel scrambles for her purse, pulling out some paper. She reads the list aloud. "Eggs, carrots . . . baking powder. Ah hah! Ask Finn to get the turkey. See, I did remember!" He gestures to the empty fridge.

"I can see that."

Her mind spins. "Would you believe me if I said I forgot to ask you?"

"Are you kidding me, Rach?"

"You said you knew the best place in town!" she argues, "and I did call you yesterday but you . . . distracted me."

"Hey," he quips back, "don't blame me. You wanted phone sex just as much as I did."

Rachel rolls her eyes, before the reality of the situation hits her. "Finn, it's Christmas. We're hosting a dinner for nine people and we have no turkey!"

"Crap," he mumbles, "crap, crap, crap. What should we do?"

"Maybe we could do an all vegetarian dinner? Like, really make a statement about animal rights. I have a lot of zucchini."

"Yeah sure. 'Here you go, Burt. Here's your traditional Christmas zucchini, enjoy'"

She pauses, "he might like it. . ."

"Rach." His voice is low.

"Oh, I don't know! Do you think anywhere will be open?"

"On Christmas day?"

"New York is a multi-ethnic City, Finn!" She counters, "my dads might know some good places. Ooh – but then I'd have to call and tell them that we've messed up."

"Whoa, not necessary," he jumps in. "I will go and find something, okay? Even if it's a kosher turkey or some turkey slices from a deli. I'll . . . figure it out, alright? Don't panic."

"Pretty hard not to."

Finn places a hand on either shoulder. "Well will do this. We will make the best Christmas food in the history of all Christmas foods! And Santa himself will weep at how amazing it is."

She frowns deeply. "I thought Christmas was supposed to be about Jesus for you guys?"

"Wrong time to bring that up, babe."

"Right," she nods. "Please, go save the day."

Rachel bounces her hips back and forth as she sings along to the radio, Oliver grinning every time he catches sight of her. She goes between helping him with Lego unicorn to making dinner, with Queenie following her every step as she does.

She barely jumps as she hears the front door open, and quickly shushes the dog. "Hey guys," Finn walks in, shoulders slumping over as he drops his work bag to the floor. She inwardly curses and moves it into the laundry room before letting Finn greet her with a kiss.

"Hi dad," Oliver giggles, "you've got something on your face."

"Oh." He moves to wash the dark patches off his cheek, looking tired as he does so.

"Long shift?" she places a hand on her tilted hip and smiles at him.

Finn grumbles something inaudible. He drops down onto the seat next to Oliver, quickly admiring his drawings.

The four year old frowns, "you're gonna get it dirty!" She stifles a laugh as he swats Finn's hands away, snatching the crayons too. When Finn tries again, he slides under the table – drawing and all – and runs into the living room.

She pulls a face. "Tough crowd."

"Today is worst," he leans back in the chair, soft pout on his lips, "I was late for work because of traffic, that new guy Jeffers is completely trying to show me up and a dog peed on me while we were on a job today." He crosses his arm, face troubled, "it wasn't even a big dog." Finn glares when she attempts a hidden chuckle, "not to mention that I got some donuts from that new bakery in town and then I dropped them on the street. I had to watch a pigeon eating them. Lucky bastard."

Finn throws his head back in despair, "is this what it's like being old? Does it just suck all the time?"

Rachel swoops in, lowering herself to his lap. "You are so melodramatic," she smiles, kissing his nose, "but it's not all bad. I'm making you some nice dinner, I got a bottle of your favorite wine for you and your mom is taking Oliver tonight so that we can be alone." Though her eyes are suggestive, it still doesn't receive the response she wants. "Hello? I'm insinuating that we can have sex, Finn. Lots of it. You love sex."

"I know," he sighs, "I'm sorry – I'm excited. Totally, super psyched. I'm just tired, too." She starts pulling away, lips a tight thing line, "but I'll be fine after a shower and dinner. I promise. We'll make a night of it."

"Hmm, okay. And I'll let you sleep in all morning."

He perks up. "I don't have wake up before 9:30am?"

"Nope," Rachel laughs, a hand resting gently on the back on his neck, "I think we could both do with a nice relaxing day off. We won't have Oliver, it's your first day off for over a week and Melissa is performing instead of me this weekend. We should make the most of it."

"Wait a minute, when do you ever want to relax?" he questions, suspicious.

She frowns, "can't I just want a day of rejuvenation?"

"I don't know what that is, but it sounds dirty." His tongue pokes out from his lips, "is it dirty? If it is, can we do it?"

"No!" she lightly shoves his shoulder, jumping off his lap and back to the pot on the stove.

"Fine, fine." Finn sighs, then there's a long pause, "do you think if I stare at my feet long enough I can make them move?" Rachel quips around, a laugh already bubbles over her lips.

"Well," she says, almost too casually, "since you're stuck there, why don't you read your mail?" As she speaks, she pushes over the small pile across the table, watching Finn's reaction. As any adult does, he pulls an unimpressed face

"Sure. Let's look at all my bills. That will cheer me up."

Rachel's face scrunches together in annoyance, and she smacks his head with the pile of paper. "Just open it."

He tugs the envelopes out of her hand. "Alright. Geez, don't know what's so important about the mail today." Despite his words, he opens each letter as she requested. "Bill, bill – oh look, another bill." She sends a glare, though keeps watching intently as he reaches the final envelope, his name written on in neat cursive. Finn peers up to her in question momentarily, to which she only shrugs, and then opens it up.

She half concentrates on dinner while the other half watches as his reaction suddenly changes from confusion to shock. In his hand, he holds a sonogram picture. Finn jumps to his feet, meeting her with just a few long strides. "Rach?" he asks, unsure but hopeful.

"You still think this is an awful day?" she teases, grinning. He doesn't say anything, but instead lifts her in his arms and wraps them tightly around the woman. "Finn, I don't like being this high," she squeaks. He appears to be on cloud nine as he finally lets her down, eyes moving from her to the sonogram, and back again.

"You're really pregnant?!"

"Fifteen weeks," she nods, beaming at him, "I've had my suspicions, but with our past record I didn't want to get too excited, you know?" Finn nods in understanding; after three miscarriages and the doctor's beginning to talk about extremely expensive fertility treatments, neither thought this was ever going to happen. "But she said that the baby is completely healthy and there is nothing to worry about."

Finn litters her forehead with kisses, holding her to his chest, "I can't believe it's actually happening. We're gonna have a baby."

"Yeah," she says breathlessly, getting lost in his eyes for a moment. His excitement ropes her in even further, bringing the biggest smile to her lips. It grows impossibly large as Finn's hands find their way to her barely there bump, though his eyes never stray from her. "Are you excited to be daddy again?"

"You know I am." He smiles lovingly, "and the best bit is that this time we get to experience everything together. I'll go get you food if you have any weird cravings – even if it's the middle of the night!"

"Gee, thanks."

"You'll really mean that in a few months."

She shakes her head in amusement, reaching for the sonogram Finn had placed on the counter beside them. Her fingers brush over it as she adores the baby, "I just can't believe it's actually happening."

"Hopefully our luck has turned around," he says.

Rachel nods, "yeah, hopefully." There's a solid silence as the two let the news sink in, both deep in their thoughts. As happy as she is, she still feels little inklings of worry hidden inside her. What is this pregnancy doesn't go as smooth as it did with Oliver? What if something happens to her or the baby, or both? Finn seems to be able to read her mind, pulling her in for a welcoming embrace. He smells like the station but she still leans into him, smiling.

"Uh, Rach?"

"Hmmm."

"The food is burning."

She springs around. "Oh crap." A sigh follows, "alright, moment gone – I'll go sort this out while you go shower. You stink!"

She smiles sweetly at Finn as he returns with her drink, passing Oliver over to the man. After eating a ridiculous amount of cake, she thinks their five year old is on a sugar come down, and all he wants to do is sleep. She can't blame him really – this has been a long party; she herself is exhausted to say the least.

"Baby, I need to sit down," she says, fluttering her eyes at him.

He scratches the back of his head. "Um, okay. I'll – I'll find somewhere! This party is full of old people though and they're all sat down," he grumbles, though leads her by the hand.

"Old people?" Leroy appears out of nowhere, and she stifles a giggle at Finn's 'deer caught in the headlights' look. "I hope you're not referring to my husband or me."

"No sir," he frowns, "I wasn't talking about anyone! Great party by the way. I really love the um . . . salad?"

She face palms. As much as Finn knows her dads love him, there are still times where they taunt him for fun, and it scares the living daylights out of the man. This would be one of those times.

Leroy gives her the side eye, to which she only shakes her head. "Thanks, son. Glad you're enjoying yourselves." He smiles to Rachel, "how are you doing, sweet pea?"

"A little tired, Papa. We were actually looking for somewhere to sit down."

"Oh, I think there's room in the garden. Unless some old people have taken it, of course." He gives a pointed look to Finn who seems to shrink before their very eyes. Leroy lets out a loud bellow, patting his shoulder, "I'll leave you two kids alone. And Finn," he points a finger, "you better be looking after my little girl."

She laughs at his nod, shoving him playfully when her dad disappears into the crowd. Turning to Finn, she sighs, "You're thirty two."

"Your dad is a lawyer," he emphasises, "and I just offended him."

Rachel takes hold of his hand, beginning to lead Finn now. "You're the father of his two grandchildren – he wouldn't do anything to you, I promise. Plus, he likes you. I tell you this every time. He just teases you for fun."

"Well," he miffs, "it isn't fun for me."

"Ooh, seats!" she announces, letting him grumble to himself, "now go be a dear and get me some more cake. Your son is hungry." She tries to reach down to her shoes but the bump sits in the way. In the end, she peers up at Finn with puppy dog eyes.

"Fine, fine. I'll take your shoes off, too. Anything else?"

She grins, "I'm sure I'll think of something." Rachel smiles as he sits Oliver beside her, snuggling the boy into her side. He mumbles about feeling sick, looking slightly green in the face. Running her fingers through his long hair, she smiles, "just let it pass, baby. You've eaten too much."

When Finn returns, he's holding a large slice of cake for her, which she happily eats as he slips off her heels. Rachel pats his head, grinning at him, "you're gonna make a good husband, I can already tell."

"Hey," he says, "I'm gonna make an amazing husband."

"You are," she agrees, the thought of Finn being her husband bringing a loving smile to her lips. He slips in beside her then, placing Oliver on his lap. The boy seems to grow a new lease of life, jumping on his knees and trying to wrestle his dad, who lets him win every couple of times. She sits, a hand resting carefully on her baby bump, and let's herself fall in love with Finn Hudson all over again.

Rachel scrunches her eyes closed as light manages to slip through the curtains, hitting her right in the face. She spins around in bed, which is easier said than done when she's sporting her constantly growing baby bump. Upon moving, she finds Finn smiling at her, face smushed up against the pillow. She laughs at the marks left on his face and his dishevelled hair. "Mornin'" he mumbles.

"Morning," she sighs, rubbing at her aching bad.

"Did you sleep okay?"

She pouts, "Not the best night's sleep I've ever had."

"I thought I'd tired you out," he smirks.

"I was tired, but the baby keeps kicking." As if on cue, she feels the flutter of movement inside her once more. Without speaking, she reaches out for his hand and places it over the large bump. The look of awe on his face is everything she needs that morning to put her in a happy mood, even more so as he leans forward and kisses her belly.

"Hey little guy," he says, "daddy can't wait to meet you." A pause, "you know, we still need to think of a name for him."

A look of incredulity appears on her face, followed by a chuckle. "He's not coming for another two months."

"So we can't be prepared?"

"Alright," Rachel relents, "what names are you thinking?" Though she sounds as though she's just humoring him, she relishes each second of the conversation. Things hadn't been like this with Oliver; it'd be distant and convoluted and hard. She's actually been able to enjoy this pregnancy the way it should be, with Finn lovingly by her side each step of the way.

"Hmm," he rolls onto his back, letting the sheets fall loose from his sculpted body. Rachel lets her eyes wander as he continues to think. "I don't know, something classic, maybe?"

She tilts her head in curiosity, "such as?"

"Like John or – or William."

Rachel scrunches her face up in distaste. "Hmm, pass."

"Jack?"

"Nope."

"Thomas?" he tries, frustration creeping in.

"No way!"

A grumbles escapes the man. "Alright, what do you want to call him?"

Rachel jumps at the chance, sitting herself upright and smiling toward her fiancé. "Well, I've been looking at names from musicals. I mean, it's where Oliver got his name sake from and I thought it would be really cute to carry on this tradition." Finn only blinks at her, "so here are a few. I'll just throw them out. Marius, Roger . . . Melchior?" No response, "Tony, Cornelius –"

"That is what you call a cat, not a baby."

She pouts, "Fine, don't like any of my names."

"Hey, you didn't like any of mine either," he chimes back petulantly.

There's a long drawn pause as both sit with their arms folded, deep in thought. It's Finn that eventually breaks it. "How about – I dunno, if we name him after someone we know? Then his name has meaning, you know?"

Rachel nods, "that could work." She begins listing off names in her head, "I don't know if any of these will work, Finn." When she turns to him, he looks as though he's itching to say something, though nervous at the same time. "What's wrong?" she laughs.

"Do you think," he starts, fingers idly playing with the sheets, "that we could name him after my dad?"

"Your dad?"

"Yeah, not Burt – I mean, not that I don't love Burt but I never really knew my dad. He died when I was so young." Finn shrugs, "I think it'd be nice . . ."

She places her hand on his, "I think that's a really sweet idea." A comforting squeeze follows, then a smile to return his beam. Rachel feels a pang of guilt as she realizes that she doesn't even know his real dad's name – it's not like they've never talked about him, it's just that Finn never uses it.

"So we can call him that?" he asks, hopefully. "Christopher?"

"Christopher Hudson. I like it."

"Christopher Leroy Hudson," Finn says, "Oliver's middle name is Hiram – we can't leave your other dad out."

A chuckle ensues. "He wouldn't let me forget about him. But yeah, that sounds good." She rubs her belly. "Did you here that baby, we've got a name for you." Finn scoots in closer, arms finding their place around her and she gives a sigh of content. "I'm really happy," she announces, head turning to meet his gaze.

His lips delicately brush against her hairline, a hand placed upon her bump. "Me too."

"So," Kurt smirks at her, "are you enjoying married life?"

"Kurt, I've been married for all of an hour," she points out, then grins, ". . . and yes, it's amazing!"

He takes a large sip of his drink. "There you go."

"I just can't believe it," she sighs, already starting to feel giddy from the couple of drinks she's had, "after such a rollercoaster few years together, we're finally here. I couldn't be happier."

Kurt smiles then, sincerely, "well, it suits you. Really, it does. And you look beautiful today," he smirks, "especially considering I dressed you and did your make up myself."

"Always one to brag."

"When necessary," he laughs, eyes meeting Kurt's across the dance floor, "my own husband needs me. I'll catch up with you later." He kisses her cheek, "and try not to get too drunk. You've got your familymoon tomorrow, remember?"

"Me?" Rachel waves off his concerns, "I can handle my drink, Kurt." His expression says otherwise. As he begins to walk away, it doesn't take too long for Finn to find her again. She practically drools over the sight of him in his fitted tusk, smiling lovingly spins her around the air. "Finn!" she giggles, "you're going to ruin my dress."

He promptly lowers her to the floor, voice knowing. "No, that was when I stumbled around for our first dance."

"Hush, you're a great dancer!" she insists, "and you did some great swaying."

"King of swaying," he laughs dryly, "that's me."

She rolls her eyes, though reaches for his hand at the same time and leads him toward the bar.

Finn smiles, "you look so beautiful."

"I know," she replies, blushing under his never wavering gaze, "you've told me every time you've seen me."

"That's because it's not changed," he grins, wrapping an arm around her. "I can't believe we're married." His voice is filled with glee, "Mr and Mrs Hudson, the ol' ball and chain." She raises her brow, "or the young ball and chain. Did I mention that I love you?"

"A lot, actually." Rachel grins, "But I love you too."

He grins then, leaning down for a lasting kiss. When they finally come up for air, the two peer around at the dance floor. "Do you want to?"

"If you're ready."

Finn reaches for a shot at the bar, downing it in an instant. "Alright," he loosens his shoulders, "let's do this. I'll try not to overshadow you." She feels her heart fluttering away happily as he leads her to join their family and friends on the dance floor, and she knows that this was definitely worth all the time it took.

"Oliver, no, no – please get out of the cupboard," she asks of her five year old who is currently sat under the sink with a colander on his head.

"I will when he stops crying!" he slams the door on himself, which only manages to annoy Christopher that little bit more. As if the kid needed a reason to cry. She continues bouncing him in her arms, shushing the two month hurriedly, before she tries her tactic of singing. Even that doesn't work.

She closes her eyes, praying for a miracle. "Baby, please."

He doesn't stop, and so commences hour number three. Rachel 0, Christopher 1.

Rachel checks his diaper once more, then if he's hungry. She rocks him, sings, and then resorts to banging her head slowly against the kitchen wall as he continues. Inside the cupboard, Oliver shouts his objections loudly to his little brother's crying. "You are not helping."

"You said a baby brother would be fun!" he accuses.

"We're both only children, what do we know!" she snaps back, feeling as childish as she sounds.

When there's a twenty second break in the crying, Oliver runs free screaming the entire time. She can hear the distance sound of him making a pillow fort in the living room and instantly wishes she could get in there with him.

Just as she thinks Chris might be calming down, the fire alarm begins bleeping away every few seconds. She rolls her eyes, "I can't believe I have a firefighter for a husband but he can't even change the battery in our alarm." She places Chris in his bassinet, cringing as he really starts screeching away now. Inside, she's a little happy at that – if there's anything to take away from this it's that he prefers being in her arms than alone. That's nice.

Back to the task at hand, she stares up at the fire alarm, wishing sometimes she could be Finn's huge height as to easily fix it. But she's a few feet short of that, and so has a drag a chair across the floor. She climbs on, knees shaking slightly and tries to reach. Still too small. And it's certainly hard to concentrate when her second child is working on deafening her.

This time she grabs a knife and tries again, this time much closer. Standing on her tiptoes, she's almost got it until –

"Mommy, I fell and hit my head on the TV!" Oliver rushes in, holding his red forehead. As he blindly runs, he almost knocks her right off the chair. She has to clutch onto it tightly to remain on, at the same time losing her grip on the knife. Rachel watches in horror as it falls to the floor, narrowly missing her eldest.

"Oh my god," she mumbles, sickness flooding through her, "I just almost killed my kid."

Her inner struggles seem less important to her two sons, who cry again and demand her attention. Headache growing, she picks up the baby then pulls Oliver into her side and listens to his cries, all the while the fire alarm remaining just as much in the background. With all the noise, she barely notices the door open, Carole and Burt stepping inside to the utter chaos.

"What is going on here?!"

All three turn to stunned silence at Burt's bellowing voice, only managing to watch as he fumbles around with the fire alarm until the room is filled with blissful silence.

Rachel sucks in a deep breath, eyes brimming with happy tears. "Thank you," she says, deliriously pulling Burt into a tight hug as Carole watches on in amusement. Behind Rachel, Oliver hiccups slightly and rubs at his red, puffy eyes.

"Looks like we got here at the right time," Carole says knowingly, reaching out for the baby.

Burt tends to keeping Oliver entertained in the living room while Rachel remains in the kitchen for a few minutes to regain her composure. "How are you holding up?" Her mother – in – law asks kindly, a hand rubbing her shoulder.

She nods, "alright. Just – today has been a tough day. It's Finn's first day back at work since Chris was born and I thought I could handle them both but –"

"Hush now," she interrupts, eyes peering around the kitchen. "So it's a bit of a mess? Who cares! You know, when I had Finn I had no time to do anything else. He pooped like there was no tomorrow and when he cried I thought he was going to wake up the whole state." She gives a fond chuckle. "But he's a good boy, just like these two are. You're doing great."

Rachel takes the compliment and tries to hold back the rush of emotions. It means the world to her to hear those things, especially when it's so easy to doubt herself when it comes to motherhood. In the end, she just smiles. "Thanks Carole."

Finn's head suddenly appears around the door, making her jump. "Oh!" She glares at him. "Uncalled for." He ignores her, instead whispering for her to follow him as quickly as possible.

She's tired, but also curious and so dons her cat slippers to follow Finn down the hallway. A frown appears as she finds him peering into Oliver's room, the door slightly ajar. "What are you doing?" she asks.

"Just look," he points inside. She does as he says, creeping forward to stare at Oliver's bed where he is lay passed out against the plethora of pillows he'd stolen from their room. But tonight there's a guest in his room. Rachel grins as she spins Chris lay next to him, each of them holding onto the book before them.

"Awww," she says happily, hands moving to cover her mouth before she gets too loud, "that is so cute."

Finn just beams like any proud father. "He's such a good brother," he coos. "They're both good kids."

"Yeah, they get that from their dad," Rachel announces surely, slowly closing the door to leave them in peace.

"And their mom."

Her smile deepens then, and she reaches out a hand which he happily accepts. Once inside, he grabs her by the waist before she has any time to react, planting a series of kisses on her lips as she feels her body singing out in happiness. "How about we see if we can get that kid number three? I'm willing to put in a lot of effort," he mumbles against her hot skin.

"Finn," she says, "you know the doctor said it probably won't happen, right?"

"Well, we proved them wrong once. Plus, I don't give up that easy."

She doesn't stop smiling for a long time.

THE END

That's it folks!

Thank you so much for everything. I really hope that you enjoyed this fic :)