Rating: T, for the F word.
Characters: Puck, Puck/Rachel-ish
Spoilers: Up to The Rhodes Not Taken
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of these fab characters.
Notes: Glee has eaten my brain. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last story! It really encouraged me to write more. This fic is brought to you by my iPod Touch and insomnia. This is probably going to be a series of really short pieces. My goal is 11 but it may be less. Once again I can not think of a chapter title but music comes to the rescue. Again, not beta read. All mistakes are my own and feel free to point them out.
Conversations Between Two McKinley High Students
i. I play the hind end of the steed -
After sectionals, where names had been taken and asses had been kicked, the Glee Clubbers gathered the next day for a little celebration. Puck was unwilling to be seen with any of the original New Directions members, yet there he was.
Mostly because he didn't have a choice. "You chose to be a member of Glee club, Noah. You're going." And that was the end of that 'discussion.'
Parents had been invited, leading to his current predicament.
Rachel Berry was talking to his mom.
He generally kept his home and school lives separate. Very separate. He'd worked very hard to build a wall between the two. It had taken a lot of years and many fake signatures.
But Mr. Schue had called all of the parents so Puck had been unable to conveniently forget to tell his mother about the victory party. Like he often conveniently forgot to bring the parent/teacher interview form home with him.
Not that he was in any way ashamed of his mother. They got along very well. He knew her well enough to know that she'd have a very big problem with some of his behavior.
And by behavior he meant his treatment of some of his less popular classmates.
Especially Rachel Berry.
Last night, on the drive home, he'd had a bad feeling about showing up to this thing. His mom was, apparently, a big Rachel fan.
He tried to explain the real Rachel Berry. The creepy intensity, general weirdness and cracked out determination. The gold freaking stars.
That was 'adorable.' "Trust me Noah," she'd said, "that girl will be an amazing woman some day."
Whatever. What did that even mean?
Rachel was adorable like a mini-Doberman was adorable. Until it bit off your finger with its evil, sharp, mini shark teeth.
Puck was not a fan of little dogs. He'd had a bad experience. Any dog that had to wear a sweater to fight off hypothermia was not really a dog, was his opinion.
He'd been standing with his mom, Finn and Finn's mom, enjoying a loaded plate of food. Minding his own business. There was a conversation about weeds. The garden kind. He was not participating.
Principal Figgins had (predictably) cheaped out on the Glee Club's reward for winning. Mr. Schue had anticipated this and had asked the parents to bring food.
The resulting buffet was a mixed bag. He was giving the plate of weird cheeses Brittany's mother had brought a wide berth. Artie's mom's oatmeal raisin cookies, though? So good. Where had these cookies been all his life?
He might have to suggest they hold a Glee meeting or two at Artie's place. Or maybe Artie had a pool. He'd look into it.
So they'd been standing there. The moms: chatting. Finn and Puck: eating. Rachel had walked by with a plate mostly filled with vegetables and some of the questionable cheese.
His mom had intercepted her. Damn it.
"Hi, Rachel, right? I'm Natalie Puckerman, Noah's mom."
"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Puckerman."
Rachel seemed almost... shy. Normalish. Weird.
"You can call me Natalie, honey. All Noah's friends do." Puck concentrated on his plate. He and Rachel were so not friends. So never would be friends. "I just wanted to tell you how fantastic you were in the show! You have an amazing voice for such a little thing."
That was a little embarrassing.
"Thank you! That's always nice to hear, Natalie."
Which was a much more modest reply than he had expected. Perhaps Rachel's social oddness did not extend to adults.
"Hey Rach," Finn had finally managed to stop chewing, "this is my mom."
"Jean. You really were so great. Finn's told me you've helped him a lot."
Finn turned pinkish. Pussy.
"Oh, well Finn's a great singer. He didn't need much."
Finn got ever redder. Puck snickered and had Finn not been holding a plate, Puck would have gotten punched.
Rachel's dads had made their way over to the little group and the four parents got acquainted. One of Rachel's dads owned a restaurant. The other was a dermatologist. Finn's mom asked a question about chemical peels.
Again, chicks. Gross.
It could be worse. Puck had a mole on his back that his mother checked obsessively every single time she could see it. He half expected she took pictures when he was sleeping to compare. Tubes of sun block often appeared in his backpack. He wouldn't have been surprised if his mother brought that mole up. Extra embarrassing.
Puck was waiting for one of Rachel's dads to point to him and say something like, 'So, how'd a nice woman like you raise a little shit like that?"
Why didn't it happen? Rachel had to have gone home and whined about him (and his slushies) to her dads, right?
The parents laughed and seemed to be getting along.
Maybe she hadn't tattled. Puck eyed Rachel picking at a salad. Finn, Rachel and Puck had edged a bit away. She looked anywhere but at him.
Finn continued eating, oblivious. "You should really have some of these cheesy olive things, Rach. Yum." He stuffed several in his mouth and Rachel looked a little grossed out. The expression was quickly wiped from her face.
Puck was amused. Smooth, Finn. So smooth.
He decided to be direct, "So, Berry. Just how grounded am I going to be?"
Rachel looked at him, "Excuse me?"
"Medium, large, mucho grande, military school?"
"I take French."
Puck rolled his eyes. "Berry, seriously. I had some plans this weekend that I would rather not reschedule."
"I have not the faintest idea as to what you're alluding too."
"You didn't tell them?"
"If you're asking me if I discuss any quarrels I may or may not have, with miscellaneous components of the student body, with my Dad and Daddy, I do not."
Puck took a second to sift through that. At least half of those words weren't necessary. "So you're saying you don't run home crying to Daddies one and two every day?"
"That is what I'm saying."
"Oh. Cool. I have a pool to clean."
"Is that a euphemism?"
"Yes it is."
"Don't knock it 'till you've tried it, Berry."
She rolled her eyes and was saved from replying when his mom asked her a question about her college plans. Rachel stepped closer as his mother told a story about the year they'd lived on the east coast.
He watched them out of the corner of his eye. Rachel Berry and his mother. Talking. He was not okay with this.