Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was almost midnight, and he had spent the whole evening avoiding having to be at his pregnant wife's side. He was there now, however, an arm snaking around her waist, a hand resting lightly against her belly, but he felt her tense up, saw a look in her eyes that filled him with dread as the clock ticked on. Just as the countdown to midnight was finished, instead of leaning in for a kiss he opened his mouth to ask her if she was okay, but he knew something was wrong, and it wasn't just that she was angry at him for having just finally show up.

This was....Oh god was she....

Finn didn't awaken with quite the start that Fini did but he was close, his eye shooting open and his body going rigidly still where he lay. The dream had been so vivid, so very real and was completely unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Normally, nightmares were what haunted him, but in a way, this had been just as bad.

Next to him in the bed, he felt movement. Fini, of course, as they often spent the night together in his room or hers. "Darling?" He muttered, his voice gruff with sleep as he rolled over towards her, peering up at her, trying to make her out in the dark, though he could tell she was sitting up with her knee's up to her chest.

He sat up himself, leaning back against he headboard, the blankets and sheets sliding off of a bare chest riddled with scars across his ribs. "Bad dream?" He ventured a guess, but even as he looked at her he couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his own spine as his eyes flickered down towards her stomach, one that he could see more clearly now that his eye had adjusted, and there was most definitely no bulge.

"Have to say, I had an odd one myself."

Somehow, Finn was able to remain remarkably calm, and while he knew he should have perhaps been a bit more concerned, both at Fini's reaction to whatever she had been dreaming about as well as his own dream, even the residual panicked emotions from that Finn who was about to become a dad didn't seem able to even make him seem the tiniest bit concerned. Instead, he let his eye roam over Fini's body, taking in the shape of her, straining to see her facial expression in the dark, but not really needing to when she spoke, only able to imagine how those hoarse, slightly panicked sounding words might have matched up to her face.

He didn't even blink, his expression remaining completely stoic.

The hand against his chest was met with his own brought up to rest over top of it, thumb brushing against her knuckles. "Sort of a dream." He repeated her words, but it wasn't a question. He gave his head a small shake at hers, however.

"Of course I'm real, sunshine ." His own voice was low, and gruff from sleep. Sitting up a bit straighter, he turned his body more towards her, hand falling away from hers, reaching out to trace fingers against her cheek before cupping it with a warm, dry hand.

A nod was given in response, this time. "Yes. It was New Years Eve. Ripley was my brother and apparently...an ex secret lover." He frowned as he remembered that part. "Funny because I don't find myself all that attracted to him." That probably wasn't all that important of a fact to point out, but Finn was still feeling more contemplative then concerned, and so he continued, in a very matter of fact manner.

"Jack was there, and that midget that beat up Ripley in the tournament. Abbi was with Ripley, Lucky was plastered to Jack, I had a sister named Ceres...." His voice trailed off for a couple of seconds, his hand leaving her face, finger tips gliding down along her neck and chest, before reaching her stomach, his hand flattening out against it and his fingers spreading.

"And you were there. We were married, and you were fat. Women always seem to let themselves go after marriage." It was meant to be a joke, but his voice suddenly sounded quite hollow even to his own ears.

Fini was taking this hard, that much was clear in the way she held herself, in how tense her body was, in the look on her face, barely visible as it was in the dim light in the room. Finn soon found himself drawing his hand away from her, feeling like maybe what she needed, instead of to be held, was some space.

Or maybe that was just what he needed.

Kicking off the covers that were still tangled around his legs, he stifled a yawn before sliding to the edge of the bed, and getting to his feet to stretch. For a long time he had nothing to say to her, and just stood there, staring at a nearby wall. "It was just a dream. A dream of another world, where people with our faces parade around and go through the actions of their own miserable lives." His voice was still hoarse with sleep, and he coughed into a hand made into a fist as he finally began to move towards the dresser, where half a pack of smokes lay. Fishing one out, he dug out the lighter to set the cancer stick alight, taking a long drag.

Moving on, he opened up another drawer while exhaling, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glass tumblers. Setting the glasses down, he unscrewed the lid of the bottle and began to pour, filling each up half way before stopping.

Setting the bottle down, he scooped up the two glasses, one in each hand, with the cigarette dangling from his lips. The time on the clock on the wall read just ten minutes past midnight.

Moving back towards the bed, he sat down, and held out one of the glasses of amber liquid towards Fini. "Happy New Years, Darling. And yes. ******** this island. I can drink to that."

His own thoughts kept drawing themselves back to that evening in that other place, despite how much he wished they wouldn't. But it was still so fresh. Still felt so real. Cruising around the party, making stops to say hi, doing all he could to avoid having to spend much time with his bitchy wife. He'd already had an entire day of listening to her whine about how everything hurt and how terrible she looked. He had just wanted an evening to unwind, and to enjoy himself. He wanted to not feel miserable for just a few hours. He wanted not to think about what a huge mistake he had made, leaving one love for a new. How much he had ******** up. He wanted to get drunk and be as loud as the ugly clothes he wore.

He was pathetic, and it was only making Finn more sick to think about it as he went back to Fini's side and settled down next to her on the bed, reaching up to take his cigarette out of his mouth and to exhale a cloud of smoke once she had accepted her glass.

Her small smirk didn't go unnoticed, and he gave her won in return, clinking his glass against hers and rising it to his lips for a long, long sip. The burning sensation as the amber liquid traveled down to his stomach was a welcome feeling, one that left him feeling warm as he got himself up settled into the bed fully beside her, quick to take another sip, though that might have been a mistake because he quite nearly choked on it after what she said next.

"Pale hair. Yes. Well his hair technically wasn't the same...there...I mean his hair isn't even naturally white." He gasped out when he could finally breathe again, face splitting into a grin when he looked over at her. "But now that you mention it, yes, you two are quite similar. You're both very pretty. Maybe I should get you a pair of glasses? I think that would be really hot. Maybe you should start wearing turtle necks and business attire as well." There was no doubt that he was joking, if the amusement in his voice was any indicator.

What Fini obviously didn't know was that Finn could have definitely claimed to having slept with somebody of the same sex before he had ever been involved with a man in an alternate universe. He was just a man that was very open to new and different experiences...and if he enjoyed those experiences, who was he to deny himself the pleasure of letting it reoccur on several different occasions? Of course, if Fini never asked, then there was really no reason to bother to tell.

She had managed to throw him off a little bit with her comment, however, and he just gave his head a small shake, smirking as he took another sip of his own whiskey, though it was much longer then the first two, emptying nearly half of his glass already. "What I meant to say, darling, was that his hair was quite brown in that other...place. And no I am quite aware that it is not your natural color since, well..." He glanced down at her quite deliberately, eyes straying to her lap, a smug smile sliding across his lips. "Drapes. Carpets. The not matching of. You know." He made a gesture with his drinking hand, before raising his smoking one to take a long drag of his cigarette, before holding it out in offering to Fini, eyebrows raised. She'd never smoked with him before, but after what they'd just experienced...well, he would never not offer, just in case.

"Okay. Very, very pretty." He wasn't sure if he was still talking about Ripley too anymore, as he was leaning down towards Fini, setting his own drink down to the side for a moment so that he could lift a hand to her cheek, cupping it, leaning in to whisper in a low whisper. "Sexy, even." He closed the distance to press a long, lingering kiss against her lips, the taste of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue as his hand moved to the back of her head, fingers lacing through her hair, holding her as he pulled away just enough to begin trailing kisses along her jaw instead.

And then he pulled away again, giving her a light shove against her shoulder followed by a harsh scoff of laughter. "Don't you dare. I like you just the way you are." He reached for his drink again and raised it to his lips, a smaller sip taken this time as he cocked his head to the side, considering.

"Okay, just the glasses. No turtlenecks. But seriously, Fini just..." He frowned, looking down at his cup for a moment, before raising his eye to meet hers again. "Don't mention it in front of Abbi." He had no doubts that Fini would want to poke fun at Ripley in private, and all the power to her, but while most of Finn most of the time didn't give many shits about a lot of things, there was a small part of him that just...didn't want to interfere in whatever was going on between those two. He couldn't really see it being a big problem, since it was well, another world away in a place that they had only just dreamed about, but then again, who knew? For once, Finn was feeling almost kind. And thoughtful.

Weird.

Despite what they had just woken up from, it was easier for Finn to deal with it all by simply acting like it was nothing. Only a dream. There was no other world out there where another Finn was likely holding his wife's hand in the infirmary right now, nervous, scared, and ultimately awed by the gift of a child that he was about to receive. He didn't want to think about it, not here and now at least. Maybe later, when he could quietly contemplate that situation alone, where he could have a chance to react to it without showing Fini that a lot of it actually bothered him. He didn't want kids. He didn't want a wife. He didn't really want anything to do with happiness or fairy tale endings. ******** all of that. It simply didn't exist or have room to exist within him.

So the teasing was working. The drinking and the smoking and the lingering kisses that he hopelessly wished could become something more then just kisses helped. It was distracting. It was a way to cope. It was just what he needed right now.

But then came that niggling little wonder if that was not what he should be doing. This was not what normal people did, how healthy people coped. They should talk. Right? He should tell her that life is not what he wants for himself at all. Let her know that, if it's what she wants, then he can't give it to her. It was the great internal debate that warred inside of him even as he watched her take the long drag off of his cigarette, even while he brushed gentle kisses against her skin and then moments later pushed her away with a scoff. It would likely be on his mind until he made the final decision. Talk now, or keep on pretending none of it mattered? Did it matter?

"It's been so long I barely remember." He half-joked, cigarette back to dangling between his lips, nearly ready to be butted out, as a free hand went to her stomach, sliding up her shirt for an index finger to run against the ugly welt of a scar that rested there. "A guy could start to wonder if you were getting yourself injured on purpose, darling. Am I really that bad in bed?" The hand moved around to the middle of her back, fingers trailing over her skin, a thumb stroking lazily in small circular motions.

His drink set down, he took one last drag off of his cigarette and leaned away from the bed to butt it out in an ashtray on a stand that was next to them, before leaning back towards her, picking up his drink and downing what was left of it in one shot, letting the warmth travel up the back of his neck to his head, letting it begin to dull his senses just slightly before Fini was on him, a hand to his forehead, while what might have been a faintly amused smile quirked up his lips.

"Maybe. Maybe I'm just feeling generous for once." His glass was set down next to the ashtray and his hand was up, snatching for her wrist hopefully before she could get away, in an effort to yank her towards him. "Is there anything you would like me to give you before this magnanimity fades?"

"I knew it." The accusation in his voice was laced with far too much humor for it to be even remotely considering serious. "You're just with me because I'm so charming. Probably want all of my money as well." Because yes, he had so much of that now that he was on the island. What was even in his account anymore? A couple of thousand? Considering he used to be able to make that much in a weeks worth of work before, he couldn't help but feel a sudden desire to roll his eye and let out a disgusted sound.

Still, even while he said it, his hand glided further up her back, fingernails just barely grazing against her skin, up her spine, between her shoulder blades. He enjoyed the way she shivered at the touch, and how she arched her back beneath his hand. He wanted her, as he always seemed to, but she was hurt, and he was behaving.

For the most part....

But with her suddenly in his lap, her fingers gliding against the scars on his chest, up his neck, fingers finding their way into what was becoming slightly longer, scruffier, and more manageable hair, it was pretty hard to remember all of that. She was leaning in to press a kiss against his scar, and while part of him wanted to flinch away, he endured it, holding his breath, and letting it out with quiet ease between his teeth, a shiver working it's way down his spine at the feel of lips so close to where his eye had once been. The eye he had left was staring into the blue of hers, his hands both going to the sides of her waist, fingers squeezing just slightly as though to hold her there, as if she might try to move away.

And then, wordlessly, he tilted his head back for his mouth to be able to find hers, to give her what she asked for, before pulling back just enough to be able to breath and murmur against her lips. "Just a kiss, darling? You sure you can't think of anything else you might want as well?" Before she could answer, he gave her another, and then another, making it last longer, the press of lips a bit more eager and demanding then before.