A/N: I am working really hard to find inspiration to work on the next chapter of Chance Encounters, until then this is a fun little thing I've started, each little chapter represents a week in the lives of Finn and Rachel beginning in May of 2018. I plan on this being a constant ongoing type thing, every week. Let me know what you think of it.

May 20-26, 2018

Trying to avoid bumping into anyone, Finn Hudson hurried down the steps into the subway. He couldn't wait to get home and curl up with his wife and enjoy a relaxing Friday evening. After four years at the Ohio State University he'd moved in with Rachel in her just off Broadway apartment, the place that she'd called home for nearly two years had quickly turned into theirs.

He'd gotten a decent job at a public high school teaching, coaching football, and coaching the glee club. He'd supported them for nearly an entire year as Rachel auditioned like mad for every play, musical, and off Broadway show she could find, until finally at the age of 23 she'd been offered a staring roll in a revival of Funny Girl, the show and Rachel had been nominated for Tony's and she'd finished up her contracted six months, two weeks ago.

But what really had him thinking on this trip across the city, was her weird behavior over the last week. She'd been sick the last four days, but only right before bed, any other time of the day she was either eating or relaxing on the couch. She'd been hanging out in her lounge wear a lot too, which wasn't too weird considering she wasn't really leaving the apartment but a relaxed Rachel was still something he was getting used to.

They'd gotten married the summer after they'd both graduated, shortly after he'd moved to join her in the Big Apple, and it'd taken a lot for Finn to convince her that being at home together meant they could lay around all day wearing whatever they were comfortable in, she didn't always have to be so put together just because he was around. As a matter of fact some of his favorite Rachel Hudson looks included yoga pants, and/or his Ohio State Football hoodie that he never really tried to get back.

Suddenly like a bolt of lightning struck him, he realized what it was that was going on with his wife. He just didn't know if she knew; and if she didn't, he wasn't sure how receptive she would be to the idea. Heading up the steps two blocks away from their home he quickly detoured into a drug store before heading home.

"Hey Rach," he called entering their apartment. "You here?"

"What's up?" she appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, spoon and ice cream carton in hand, heading for the living room. The yoga pants she wore hugged her ass perfectly and he couldn't help but follow it, but the tiny tank top she wore on top was hugging her curves as well, and that was far more distracting at the moment as she turned around to plop on the couch.

"I know what's wrong with you," he smugly informed her.

"Finn, there is nothing wrong with me, I just finished a show, I'm enjoying being at home, and I might have a bit of a bug," she shrugged, the last four evenings she'd greeted the toilet like an old friend, while the rest of the day she overate just a tad, "in fact maybe I'm getting so sick because I'm eating more, and not all that healthily I might add."

"Right it explains that too," he nodded, "wait there," he ordered before heading for their bedroom, she rolled her eyes taking another bite of the Cherry Garcia, contemplating if she could convince him to go pick up another tub for her.

"What are you doing with a box of tampons?" she questioned when he sat it on the coffee table in front of her.

"Oh this?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow, "this unopened box? That you called and begged me to bring home three weeks ago?"

"It was not three weeks ago," she huffed, he'd made her promise nearly eight years ago that she would only have him pick up such items if it was an emergency, so it was not possible that he'd picked up that box three weeks ago.

"Yes it was," he nodded, "it was opening night of the high school musical, I had to stay and make sure everything was locked up, you called and told me that you were supposed to start the next day and you realized you didn't have anything here."

"Well that's just ridiculous Finn," she rolled her eyes, "if that were the case then that would make me really late, and that just can't be."

"Are you in denial?" he asked, he was really curious at this point whether she was seriously just that clueless or if she wasn't sure yet what she wanted.

"No!" he could tell from the outrage in her voice that she was, in fact, in denial, "there is nothing to be in denial about."

"How many times have you thrown up in the last four days?" he knew his presentation of the facts was kickass at this point.

"Roughly 16, and those weren't in the morning, but I just told you-"

"First of all I heard you, I'm presenting a different theory, second of all, from what I remember back in high school it doesn't really matter all that much what time of day it is," he interrupted her, "and third, 16? I'm only remembering 8."

"Oops," she shrugged; she wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of her husband watching her throw up as it was, so those random 2 am bouts were kept to herself, "You do realize what you are suggesting to me right? What this would mean?"

"How long have your boobs been sore?" he ignored her questioning in favor of his own.

"Finn! They are not-"

"Do not try and deny it, you're wearing a sports bra for like the sixth day in a row, and you hate them," he refuted.

"Okay, what do I have to do to prove to you how asinine this theory is?" she finally sighed.

"Take these," he pulled a paper bag from his messenger bag holding it out to her, "into our bathroom and pee on them, I'll wait."

"Finn," she sighed, taking another bite of her ice cream, "this is so outlandish, how could you possibly think-"

"Outlandish? It's perfectly plausible, after all you're the one always preaching safe sex, which we haven't exactly been keeping track of, and even if we were it's not 100 percent effective," he smirked.

"I knew helping you study for the SATs would come back to bite me one day," she grumbled, "I still think you're hoping for something that's not possible."

"This is a good thing," he replied, "we're ready for this."

"Barely," she grunted, before finally giving in, "this is ridiculous," she muttered dropping her ice cream next to the box on the coffee table, snatching the bag from his hand, and stomping her way through the bathroom.

Doesn't really matter what time of day it is, she pouted in her head as she took care of business. She could hear him moving around the bedroom, probably changing out of his work clothes and into some athletic shorts and a t-shirt, the warm May afternoon bringing the desire for shorts with it. If he thought she was going to come out there and talk to him while they waited, he had another thing coming. She'd been on the verge of conceding to her own thoughts when he'd waltzed in with his theory, pushing her to acceptance faster than she was ready.

Checking the results one after the other, she honestly couldn't believe he'd bought five, she sighed. "Rach c'mon," he tapped on the bathroom door, "it can't possibly take this long." Reaching over she twisted the knob letting the door crack open before returning her gaze to the objects at hand, "so? What's the verdict?"

"Not a word," she pointed sternly at him before going out to their bed, laying down placing both hands flat on her stomach.

"Rach," he sighed, leaning against the door frame between the bath and bed rooms.

"I said, not a word," she retorted, he crawled onto the bed next to her, he felt bad forcing this on her, seeing the pout on her face.

"I'm sorry baby," he placed a hand on top of hers, "I shouldn't have made you take those," he sighed, "this isn't horrible though is it? We're having a baby."

"We're having a baby," she spoke softly, turning her face to his, pressing their lips softly together, "I love you."

"We're having a baby!" he laughed, throwing his arm up in the air fist pumping. She couldn't help but giggle, turning completely towards him, capturing his lips with hers before rolling over him, "umm, where'd you go?"

"No where," she laughed as he struggled to open his eyes as she balanced her head on her hands folded neatly on his chest, his hands moving to her hips to keep her steady, "What made you think I was pregnant?"

"I don't know it just suddenly popped into my head, probably because my mom called earlier today, brought up the grandchild thing again," he shrugged, "but mostly it was just plain realization."

"Well thank you," she smiled, "there was no telling how long it would take me to come to terms with it."

"You scared?" he whispered, sweeping hair behind her ear.

"Terrified," she nodded.

"Me too," he grinned softly, "but then I think we're going to have a gorgeous little baby, and as long as we love that baby, and love each other, I'm pretty sure everything else will be okay."

"I love you," she slid up to place a kiss against his lips.

"I love you too."