Author's Note: This is a companion piece to "Perfect Fit" so if you haven't read that, you might want to, this will make more sense if you do. :D It's Finn's side of the story. Please read and review!

So Perfect

In high school, Biology had not been his best subject. Rachel Berry, with her knee socks and really short skirts, had made it impossible to concentrate in that class.

In college, he is surprised to learn that he understands Biology and, not only that, he excels at it.

Maybe that's because school has become a way to bury his sorrows, to not think of Rachel Berry, former distraction and girlfriend, telling him that he just couldn't compete with New York (or that long distance relationships were just too hard, the words were like water on a duck's back). Now, he's an honor student, making his mom proud, working toward a dream.

What dream, he doesn't yet know.

The first day of Biology, she is there. At first, he doesn't recognize her because it has been awhile since he's seen her and, honestly, he had had no idea that she went to Ohio State.

She calls out his name, more of a question than anything, "Finn Hudson?"

Then they are facing each other, then he's giving her a hug, then she's pushing him off, sneering at him. "Santana! It's so good to see you! When did you start going her?"

She gives him a look, the kind that would kill if looks could. "I've always gone here."

Oh. He feels like the biggest jerk on the planet. "Huh. Quinn never mentioned…"

Eyes turn away, quickly, darting to sweep the room. "Yeah, well, Quinn and I haven't been besties in a long time."

The Professor clears his throat and class begins.

Finn sits next to Santana.

- - - - - -

When she asks for his help, how he can he turn her down? He thinks he might see a flash of vulnerability in her brown eyes but he's not sure.

"Meet me at the library, about 3. Does that work for you?" She nods once. "Cool. Then we'll get our Biology learning on. Trust me, pretty soon you'll be, like, the best student in the class."

A roll of the eyes. "And take your spot? Just teach me the stuff so I can pass, okay pretty boy?"

Half grinning, he tells her to just be there.

She shows up at 3:15.

- - - - - -

Artie is tapping his fingers and looking at Finn expectantly until finally, "What? Is there something on my face? Jelly from that donut I was eating earlier?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Nooo. It's just…you and Santana."

A pause to open his mouth at Artie's not quite assertion. He glances toward the library door that Santana exited, Quinn behind her, to smoke. He coughs, as if he's nearby her, that awful poisonous smoke filling his lungs. "It's not like that. You know I'm still in love…with someone else."

His friend looks like he wants to say more on the subject but Quinn and Santana are already back and it's time to dive into the wonderful world of studying.

Ten minutes later, Santana's eyes are glazed over and he knows she's still not getting it. "Want to get something to eat?" he suggests.

The words seem to jar her and it takes her a minute to shake her head. "I just want to go back to my room and go to sleep. If I'm lucky, I'll never wake up and have to look at all this Biology crap again."

The words set off an alarm but when he looks at her, she's just joking but he can tell she really is tired. "Maybe tomorrow?"

"Maybe. I'll call you."

She calls him three days later for a cram session and finally starts to understand Biology. A little.

- - - - - -

She only mentions her grandmother once, casually, as if the elderly woman will most likely pull through. The subject is then dropped and he completely forgets all about it until she shows up on his doorstep with red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks.

He suggests ice cream but they end up at a pizza place, where he watches her devour four large slices of pepperoni pizza. It seems forever but she finally speaks, "I'll miss her" and it's all she needs to say. One of his hands, much larger than hers, squeezes her fingers gently. His way of saying he's there. Whenever she needs him.

He hopes she receives the message.

- - - - - -

A few weeks later, they are studying in the library and she is making fun of a frizzy haired girl across the way, whose pants are a bit too short and who is wearing several prints, none of which match. It's mean but he's laughing and he can't stop and….for the first time in a long time he isn't thinking of Rachel Berry.

- - - - - -

He might be more excited than she is when there is a red B on the top of one of her exams. After class, he crushes her in a bear hug, thinking that she's really warm, soft, smells good.

Strands of hair brush against his arm and he releases his hold on her.

A blush creeps over his cheeks but he can't figure out why.

- - - - - -

"Dude," his roommate, Chuck, drawls. "That chick you study with is totally hot."

The words bother Finn. Staring at the picture of him and Rachel from high school, he questions why they do. It's Santana. They're just study buddies. "I guess."

"Is she the commitment type? 'Cause I wouldn't mind randomly hooking up with her." Chuck pushes his long bangs out of his eyes as he waggles his eyebrows at Finn.

If he were Bruce Banner, he would get all hulking and green and on the verge of smashing skulls at this point. Not because he thinks of Santana as more than a friend. But because she is his friend and he doesn't want anyone thinking of his friend that way. Truth is, though, that in high school she was random hook up girl. Not that Finn's about to tell his loser roommate that. "She's not that kind of girl."

"That sucks." With a wave of his hand, he grabs his surfboard (seriously? They are in Ohio!) and heads out. "Later."

Several minutes after Chuck has gone, Finn turns the picture of him and Rachel around so he doesn't have to witness their past happiness.

When Santana shows up, an hour later, to watch golf with him, the picture is facing out again.

- - - - - -

When Artie tells him about the party, his first impulse is to call Santana and invite her. He ignores Artie's arched eyebrow and Quinn's pursed lips as he rambles into the phone about the end of the semester party.

She shows up and Finn's not blind. She's hot, which a lot of the male members of the party notice, waggling their eyebrows and whistling.

But she's more than that.

She's beautiful.

It dawns on him that he might be starting to see her in a different light (starting the first day of Biology?) yet Rachel Berry's hold on his heart has not been loosed and even though he's standing with Santana at the party, his very presence warding off would be suitors, he's thinking of Rachel Berry. And mistletoe.

Guilt eats away at his conscience and he wonder what his conscience tastes like. Muffins?

Her fingers dance across his chest and he's staring down into her eyes. "What are you thinking about?" she asks, her voice light and airy.

Slightest touch causes a reaction. Gulp. "Um…Christmas at home?"

"Oh." Suddenly, she's somber and her eyes are sliding from couple to couple on the dance floor, including Quinn and Artie, the one seated in the lap of the other, not moving, foreheads pressed together, allowing the music to swell over them. "Speaking of which, I have to go pack for that epic trip. See you later."

He wants to call after her but he can't find his voice.

Anyway, what can he say to her besides, "Yeah, see you later?"

The answer is: nothing.

- - - - - -

The smell of pumpkin and apple and blueberry and rhubarb and chocolate cream pie greet him as he walks through the front door of his house. And before he can even say anything, his mom is there, hugging him and hugging him, muttering about how glad she is to have her boy home. Laughing, he gently pushes her away, telling her he needs to put his stuff in his room.

His room.

It feels…different somehow. Like he had lived in it a lifetime ago.

Every break, it's the same. The room's not his anymore. It is…but not.

It was here that he and Rachel shared their first post-Quinn-break-up kiss. Two weeks before regional's when she had been worried that the tension between him and Quinn and Puck would somehow destroy any chances they might have had at winning. The kiss had been to calm her down but had quickly escalated.

He can still feel the warmth of her lips, the softness of her cheek against his, her silky strands of hair tangled in his fist…

Sighing, he falls back against his bed, taking out his phone.

He should call her. Rachel. Ask her about New York at Christmas time. See if she wants to hang out over the break.

Or he could call Santana. He already misses her.

It's then that he realizes that Santana has become a constant in his life. Someone he has gotten used to being there, like Artie and Quinn. Someone he wants there.

So why does it come down to her or Rachel? Can't he hang out with both?

…for some reason, he knows he can't.

He calls Rachel.

- - - - - -

Being at the bowling alley is like old times. They are touching and laughing and she gets two strikes and he gets three and he can't help it, he can't stop himself.

He kisses her.

Short and sweet. First, she responds, her mouth against his. It feels natural but then she's pulling away, shaking her head at him. "No, Finn," she whispers, tears in her eyes. "I can't…you and me….we broke up, remember?"

Grasps her wrists, as if he'll be able to hold her forever and, this time, she won't be able to flutter off. "You broke up with me."

"I…I have a boyfriend, Finn."

He wonders if she enjoys hurting him. "Well, that…that's just great. Just great, Rachel!" Almost yelling, his voice raises. Others are staring and Rachel wipes a tear and then she's gone. Quinn materializes out of nowhere.

"Finn," she says slowly, taking his hand. "Don't you think it's time you moved on?"

Santana's face fills his mind and he nods, numbly.

It is time to move on.

- - - - - -

Surprised isn't the word to describe what he feels when Santana melds her lips to his. In fact, he's not sure there is a word that would best fit his emotions, palpitations of his heart, pulse hammering in his ears in that moment.

Something like love but not love occurs when he kisses her back, holding onto her tighter than he means to. Thoughts of Rachel Berry exit his brain as she suggest that they continue the kiss in her room.

And it's just them, there, the stillness of the room surrounding them as they collapse on her bed. When it creaks, they both laugh.

"I'm not sure if this bed can hold our combined weights," she laughs, poking him in the stomach. "You probably ate too much of your mom's pie over the break."

How does she know? "You probably didn't. You look…great." He brushes some stray hairs away from her face and he swears she's blushing.

"How about we get back to what we were just doing?"

As if he can argue with that.

- - - - - -

Rachel's call takes him by surprise but she's only asking where she can send one of his shirts. Somehow it had found it's way into her stuff and she's just now unpacking it and can she have his address?

After he hangs up, he stands outside of his dorm for awhile, knowing that Santana is waiting for him.

A sigh falls from his lips as he contemplates past, future and present. He is caught in a whirlwind of all three and though he wants to move on, he finds it's harder than it should be.

Caught between Rachel and Santana and the question hangs, of who he wants, of who wants him, of matters belonging to the heart.

He has no answers so he stays with her. Because Santana, she makes him happy.

- - - - - -

It's not until she's ready to break up with him that he realizes how much she means to him. That if she leaves him, his world will stop spinning, at least for awhile. Minutes, hours, years, lifetimes pass by as she gazes at the apologetic frozen yogurt and his muscles are taut.

The truth is there, hovering between them, a cloud of indecision.

Those feelings for Rachel have not yet dissipated but she is…she smiles, takes a bite of the yogurt…she is sunshine.

- - - - - -

A picture of them stands on his desk. The one of he and Rachel is in a drawer somewhere, face down.

At first, she doesn't notice, as she sits, curled on his bed, leafing through a text book. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees her face light up, her eyes shine, as they are drawn to the framed photograph.

He bites his bottom lip as she throws herself at him, planting kisses all over his face. "What?" he asks, feigning ignorance.

"I don't feel like studying," she purrs, trailing kisses down his jaw line, her hands mussing up his hair. "Let's…have ourselves a little break."

To show his approval, he pushes their text books to the ground, where they crash heavily, disturbing his downstairs neighbors, he is sure, presses her body into his comforter, winding one arm around her waist, touching her face with the hand on his other arm. Pauses. Looks down at her, lying there, hair splayed all over the pillow, white shirt complementing her skin color, her eyes, the curves of her body…


"You're beautiful, San-Tan."

Her response is to drag her nails gently across his cheek as something akin to tears (but can't be tears because Santana doesn't cry) fills her eyes. "You're not bad yourself," she says roughly.

He leans down, brushes his lips against hers. "I want you to meet my mom."

And suddenly it's the most important thing in the world that she meets his mom and his mom meets her and they like each other, because of course they will.

There are no more words after that.

- - - - - - -

After he is victorious at the game of Monopoly, he drives Santana home, walks her to the door, kisses her until she is breathless. "My mom likes you."

A soft smile plays on her lips. "I like your mom," she tells him, running her hands up and down his chest. "She's nice."

"You're nice," he murmurs, planting small kisses all over her face.

It was something that he never would've said in high school, mostly because she scared, him but now he knows it's true.

"I'm not-"

Grins, presses his lips to hers to cut off her sentence. "Don't try to pretend that you're not."

Her eyes shine, a reflection of him, and it's like time has stopped and he's seeing her for the first time.

"See you tomorrow Finny," she sings, extracting herself from his arms and entering her home.

Leaving him on the porch, to think, to realize, to understand.

- - - - - -

He's not scared to meet Santana's parents, especially not her dad, and his eyes are not furtively glancing around the room in search of a hidden gun. Not loaded, he reminds myself, as if that can calm the fears he doesn't have.

After a dinner that he exclaims (several times) to Mrs. Lopez is the best Mexican food he's ever had (considering the only other Mexican food he has had came from Taco Bell, which really isn't Mexican food, according to Santana), Mr. Lopez sits down with him and they talk about sports. Which is something Finn can handle.

Until the words "my daughter" and "intentions" fall from the man's lips and Finn finds himself frozen.

His eyes make their way to the kitchen, where Santana is busy drying dishes and putting them away. When she senses his line of vision on her, she shifts her eyes, smiles, then continues doing what she's doing.

"Your daughter is special, Mr. Lopez," he says an eternity later. "I care a lot about her. I think…I think I'm falling in love with her."

The other man's hand claps him on the back. "That's all I needed to hear."

And it kind of takes him off guard because he spoke from the heart without overthinkingg. But it's true. He's falling in love with her. Has been for a long time.

- - - - - -

"I told her I loved her and she freaked out. I've never seen Quinn like this before."

Finn's eyes skim the textbook in front of him but he's not really reading the words. "She sent Santana a text message? That doesn't seem like Quinn. She's always so cool and rational."

Artie spins in his wheelchair, a huge grin on his face. "Love does things to people. Especially my love."

Rolls his eyes at Artie's ego. Pushes the chair, Artie stops a few feet away.

Quinn comes out of nowhere and skids to a halt in front of the table where Finn and Artie have been studying, a gleam in her eye. She pecks Artie on the lips than shares the news she's obviously dying to tell. "Brittany and Mike…are getting married!"

To say he's stunned is an understatement. "Married?"

"We all knew that was coming," Artie laughs, pulling Quinn into his lap.

Love and marriage make him think of Santana. Whipping out his phone, he sends her a text, asks her to meet them in the library.

She never comes.

- - - - - -

It's been days and phone calls and hours of studying for exams. And Santana has disappeared. He feels…crummy. Awful. Like not showering and barely eating and just getting through each day. Fears that she'll break up with him creep through his brain and he can't shake them.

Finally, he has to do something, has to get out of his room, has to know.

"I miss you," he tells her and somewhere, between the kisses and caresses, she breathes it back.

- - - - - - -

In June, he hangs out poolside with Artie, while they watch their girls swim gracefully from one end of the pool to another.

"We," he tells Artie. "are the two luckiest guys around."

"That we are," responds Artie, not taking his eyes off of Quinn as she climbs out of the pool.

Santana remains in, however, beckoning for him to join her. So Finn does. Wraps his arms around her waist, as they tread water. "I like your purple bikini."

"Of course you do," she says, pushing away from him, a teasing smile sent to him from over her shoulder.

Taking the bait, he chases her, splashing water everywhere, until he catches her. Laughing, she struggles but it's of no use. He's got her. As she quits in her efforts to try and escape him, a seriousness overshadows them both and that's when he knows.

He's not falling anymore.

He just loves her.

- - - - - - -

Rachel's call surprises him mostly because he hasn't thought of her in so long. When she suggests a reunion, he's more than happy to agree.

For the first time, in a long time, being around Rachel Berry, post-break up, won't bring him pain.

- - - - - -

The wedding of the year, as Santana has sarcastically been referring to it, takes up way to much of his girl's time. And when he does see her, she seems tense. For good reason. Planning a wedding in a matter of months would create stress in anyone.

It angers Finn so he confronts Mike about it. "Dude," he begins before Mike has even opened the door all the way. "Couldn't you and Brittanyhave planned your own wedding?"

"Huh." Clearly, Mike has only just rolled out of bed. "Um." He rubs his eyes. "Santana's kind of controlling. She vetoed the zoo idea. I mean, we totally wanted to get married there but Santana told us that was ridiculous. Then she, like, took over everything. Your girlfriend is kind of psycho."

The words offend him and before he can stop himself, he's balling the front of Mike's cowboy pajama shirt in a fist. "She's not psycho! She just cares too much."

"Okay, man, she's not." Finn releases Mike, still angry and goes on to say something when Mike mutters, "Yes she is!" and quickly slams the door.

Huffing, Finn leaves, drives to Santana's. She is, of course, busy, busy, busy. He tells her she needs to take a break, she is poised, ready to argue but one kiss silences any debate.

One kiss that morphs into many.

- - - - - -

The night before Brittany and Mike's wedding, Finn sleeps in the same bed with Santana, hoping and praying that her dad won't walk in with a loaded shot gun. But those fears melt away as he holds her, rests his hands on her stomach, nuzzles her hair with his nose, enjoying her usual scent of apples. It isn't long before he is asleep and in dreamland.

Dreaming of her dressed in white and him in a tuxedo and it feels so right.

When he wakes up, the sun streaming through her window, shining on both of the, lighting her face, he can't put words to the emotions swirling in his heart. He stares at her, wanting her to stay asleep for bit longer so he can just savor the moment. One finger brushes strands of hair off her cheek, his lips touch to her temple. When she stirs, he stills but she doesn't wake.

In the quiet, he tests the words. "I love you, San-Tan."

He'll tell her. After the events of the day are over, he'll tell her.

- - - - - - -

Santana is rushing around most of the day so Finn ends up chatting with Rachel. About what it's like to be rooming with Kurt and Puck. About what dating Santana is like ("Wonderful," he tells her, even though it's obvious she doubts). About her future as a Broadway star and did he keep that signed picture of her ("Us," he reminds her)? About how he's not sure what his future holds (other than Santana).

"You were born to be a star, Finn," she tells him, smiling up at him.

And he recalls when her touch and that smile and those words would make him love her, would break his heart. He blurts it out, because, for some reason, it's important he tells her. "I'm in love with Santana."

A crooked grin and "I know."

When he feels Santana's eyes burning into him, he turns and waves but it seems she's too occupied to wave back.

He really can't wait until Brittany and Mike say their vows so he can have sane Santana back.

- - - - - -

When he finally says the words, she appears dazed but then she mumbles them back, with glossy eyes that reveal so much more than mere words.

They hold each other for a long time until Quinn appears, telling them they have to start cleaning up the reception hall.

It's hard to let go of her but he does. Finding ample times to touch her as they stack chairs, wash dishes, sweep floors, kick out obnoxious DJ's who try to feel up Rachel - twice. Kurt and Puck take him outside to "talk" to him. They're very protective of their roomie.

And finally, they are alone, in his car, as he drives her home. He has one hand on the wheel, the other holding hers as she reclines in the passenger seat, eyes closed.


"Um hm?"

"Do you think that you and I…one day, maybe we…." Pauses, can't finish his thought. Because she could say no and that would hurt. A lot.

"Finn Hudson," she slurs, clearly overtired. "Are you asking me to marry you?"

It's a wonder she can't hear the thumping of his heart. "Not today but maybe one day. What would you say if I did maybe one day ask you?"

For a second, he's sure she'll say no. Just crush his hopes and make sure that his dream from the previous night never becomes a reality. "If you maybe one day ask me," she says at last. "I'll maybe probably say yes."

Happiness comes over him in waves and he squeezes her hand. She squeezes back and he thinks that never has a moment felt so good. So wonderful.