Author's Note: In honor of the return of Glee tonight, here is the first chapter to the sequel to All Roads Lead to You. I got a lot of requests for a sequel and will be including some of the things you wanted to see in this sequel. This won't be an insanely long multi-chapter fic (ARLTY) but will still take a bit to resolve.
Also, keep an eye out for some new fics of mine that will ONLY be posted over on my LiveJournal blog because of their NC-17 content. (GoingVintage. livejournal. com.) They will feature some heavy Smuckleberry (Smutty Puckleberry.)
Anyway, THANK GOD GLEE IS BACK!!!!!!
Noah Puckerman stood in aisle 7 at a Walgreens on the edge of downtown Seattle, his face screwed up into a bewildered stare, at the brightly-colored boxes in front of him. What the hell? Glancing from the brand-names to the generics and then back to the brand-names again, he sighed and ruffled his hair with the palm of his hand. He really, really wished Rachel had done this part of it herself. But she'd called him as he was leaving work and had sweetly and casually asked, "Baby, I need you to stop by Walgreens and...pick up a pregnancy test…or two or three...before you come home." Puck's breath had caught in his throat and he'd stumbled, nearly careening into the busy Seattle street, at his wife's words.
"Pre—pregnancy test?" he's sputtered into his iPhone. Regaining his footing, he'd stalked back toward the building, turning to lean against the bricks to ensure he didn't crash to the ground. Rachel? Pregnant?
Rachel had giggled into the phone and he'd recognized the sound as her nervous laugh. "Yes, Noah. I—I didn't want to tell you until I was really late but…I'm really, really late now. At first, I thought it was just my cycle being stupid but I don't think—" Her words trailed off and he knew, from four years as her husband and what seemed like a lifetime of loving her more than anything else in the world, that she was biting her lip on the other end of the phone.
Gulping, Puck looked toward the sunlight. Rachel might be pregnant. Nodding, he realized she couldn't see the bob of his head. "O—okay, babe. Any particular brand?"
"Nope, just something I can pee on."
Puck had signed off with a quick, "love you," and hung up the phone. Numbly, he'd walked toward his truck on the third floor of the parking garage. Rachel might be pregnant. We might be parents. Holy fuck…
Dropping his muscular body into the cool seat of his truck, he'd stared blankly ahead for what felt like an eternity as a million random phrases and words seemed to bounce through his brain. Pregnant. Baby. Money. Diapers. Throw-up. Sex. Big breasts. Dad. Slowly, a smile crept across his handsome face and took hold. Holy shit! I might be a dad!
That goofy, almost-drunk-looking smile had stayed on his face right up until that moment in the Walgreens aisle. It faded, though, as he looked at the EPT, First Response, ClearBlue Easy, and the generics boxes of pregnancy tests centered on the shelves above the condoms. Some required peeing in a cup and dipping (which just sounded fucking gross and he knew, undoubtedly, that if he brought one of those home Rachel would send him back out for the non-disgusting kind), others had digital read-outs, and others still just had one line or two to indicate the results. What the fuck? Seriously?
Puck felt the presence of the old woman in the blue smock before he saw her. "Sir," she asked gently. "Can I help you?"
Puck grinned nervously at the woman. "No, I'm fine…just…confused." She patted him on the shoulder and grabbed a box promising early results. "This one's reliable." For a moment, Puck considered asking the woman if she knew what the fuck she was talking about considering they probably didn't even have home pregnancy tests when she'd been pregnant, like, sixty years before. But instead of being his normal asshat self, he bit is tongue, flashed a lop-sided grin at the woman, and grabbed three more boxes of various brands. Fuck it. Let Rachel decide which one to piss on.
He paid quickly (and ignored the cashier who'd smiled up at him like he'd just won the fucking lottery) and drove to the apartment they shared as fast as he could in the maddening Seattle traffic that had become the bane of his existence since moving to Seattle five years before. Rachel was off from her show that day because it was early in the week and she'd slept in this morning, which he'd found odd. She was religious about getting up early, exercising, and eating a healthful breakfast. But this morning, she'd swatted his hand away when he'd try to wake her up so he'd left her to sleep while he got ready for work. When he'd bent over her to kiss her goodbye, she barely opened her eyes to return his kiss before she'd emitted a loud snore. Chuckling, he'd left and headed off to work at the physical therapy center. In the five years he'd been in Seattle, he'd worked his way up and was now the senior therapist, supervising all the assistant therapists that worked at the large facility. Rachel was still acting in the local musical theater but had started giving singing lessons as part of the theater's mentorship program two years ago. She was very well-known in the Seattle area – something of a local star who even occasionally got recognized when they were out. After they'd married, they'd briefly – very, very briefly - discussed moving back to Ohio. In reality, the only reason they were even in Seattle was because Rachel had moved there in a vain attempt to cut Noah from her life right before he'd been scheduled to marry another woman. But once he'd come to his senses and realized that Rachel was what mattered, he'd found out where she was and headed out to Seattle. Moving there, he'd won her over, reclaiming his best friend and turning her into his wife. They'd married on the ferry in Elliott Bay, honeymooned in Cozumel, and settled back into life in Seattle. And since then, Seattle had definitely become home.
Puck parked his truck on the street outside their building and bustled through the main door. He skidded to a stop at the edge of the hall, though, to pause and listen. In the apartment next to theirs lived the elderly Mrs. Bernbaum. Puck didn't know if she was 80 or 120; he did know that she was sweet, helpful, and so goddamn annoying that Rachel had to stop him on numerous occasions from strangling the old woman and hiding her body in their storage closet behind the suitcases. While he normally didn't mind when she jerked open the door as he arrived home and talked his ear off for 20 minutes about her new teeth or what was happening on her favorite "stories", he was on a mission that night. He needed to find out if he'd knocked up his girl.
Silently, he skulked past her door like a stealthy ninja, keys in hand. Reaching his door, he unlocked it and deftly slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him. Tossing his keys on the sideboard, he clutched the Walgreens bag and walked deeper into the apartment.
"Babe?" He called. As he neared the bedroom, he heard the sound of the television on low. Pushing open the door, his eyes adjusted to the dim room and settled on the form of his small wife, curled up and asleep.
Grinning at the serene look on her face, Puck grabbed the remote and flicked the television off before dropping the bag from his hand and kicking off his shoes. Climbing gently across the bed until he reached her form, he brushed his lips over hers and whispered, "Babe, I'm home."
Rachel's lids opened slowly at the deep timbre of his voice and a smile slowly crept across her sleepy face. Pushing herself up slightly, she pressed her lips against her husband's before lying back against the pillows again. "Hey, honey. I'm sorry I fell asleep. I'm just very tired today."
Puck settled onto his back on the bed, grabbing Rachel and pulling her against him. She sighed and rested her head on his chest.
"How was your day?" she asked softly, her eyes still closed.
"Fine. Buncha old hurt people…learnin' how to do shit again. Just another day on the job."
Rachel gently slapped his chest before settling her hand on his chest to finger the buttons on his polo shirt. "Your nonchalant attitude about your job is infuriating, Noah. You do important work."
Puck brushed his lips over her forehead, pushing the brown locks away from her face. "I know, babe. Doesn't mean it doesn't drive me fucking crazy most of the time."
They laid silently for a few minutes until the quiet of the room was punctured by the rumbling of Puck's hungry stomach. Rachel smiled into his abdomen and pushed herself up.
"I'll go make something for dinner. I'm sure you're starving by now."
Puck grabbed her arm, stopping her from advancing into the kitchen. "We'll order Chinese. Or I'll go pick up Applebee's."
Nodding, Rachel stretched her arms above her head and yawned. Puck swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up next to her. His arms went around her, pulling her back tightly against his chest. Dropping his head so that his mouth was level with her ear, he asked, "Isn't there something that you need to be pissing on right about now?"
Rachel grinned and squeezed his arm. "You got them?"
"You call me and tell me that you might be pregnant and you think I won't get them? I got four different kinds, babe, just to make sure we get the same answer."
Puck reached down, handing Rachel the bag he'd dropped on the floor on his way in the bedroom. She looked inside it and then closed it again, a nervous smile playing across her lips.
"When should I do it? Now or later?"
Puck dropped a hand to his hip. "Are you fucking serious? Now!" Swatting Rachel on the behind, he pushed her toward the bathroom door. "Do your thing and let me know!"
Rachel stepped into the buttercup yellow bathroom and Puck grabbed her arm, tugging her back out to drop a kiss on her lips. "Moment of truth," he whispered against her lips. "Somebody's life's about to change."
Rolling her eyes, Rachel pulled away and spoke with loving exasperation in her voice. "Noah Puckerman, I don't want you to ever tell me that you don't like Titanic again because you totally just quoted it. And next time you tell me that there's dust in your eyes during the part where Jack's body sinks, I won't believe you."
Grinning, he pushed her back into the bathroom and pulled the door closed. "Go pee, babe. We can talk about that douchy old movie later."
Inside the bathroom, Rachel rooted through the bag and pulled out the tests. Eying the boxes, she finally settled on the one with the easiest to read answer (because Noah would, of course, probably be confused if she handed him a test full of lines. She could practically hear him saying, "What the fuck?" as he stared at it.)
Quickly, Rachel took the test and then washed her hands and waited, her eyes averted from the little plastic stick that sat on the edge of the counter. She toyed with the edge of the periwinkle blue towel hanging on the rack and then rearranged her pony tail holders in their basket. Finally, she looked down and gasped. She had her answer – their answer, actually.
Picking it up, she stared at it as a range of emotions washed over her. How will Noah react? Will he be happy or disappointed? Oh, God... Rachel smiled as she stared at the readout and then bit her lip and bounced up and down from her spot in the bathroom.
"Babe," Puck called from outside the door. "What's the deal? I'm waiting!"
Jerking the door open quickly, she shoved the test in his hands. He looked down and read it, staring at it for longer than it would take to read the answer. A strange expression passed over his face and Rachel couldn't tell what it meant.
"Noah?" She asked timidly. "Are you okay?"
Puck lifted his head and smiled at Rachel. "Of course I'm okay. This is...amazing." He seemed awestruck, staring off into space with a goofy grin transforming his handsome features.
Rachel burst out laughing as Puck bent to capture her lips in a kiss. Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered, "I'm going to be a daddy...again." His eyes went soft for a moment and Rachel knew he was thinking about the daughter he'd never had the chance to raise. Bouncing up on her toes, she brushed her lips over the tip of his nose and said, "But this time, you'll be right here for the entire thing...."
Puck grunted and pulled her tightly to him. "I love you, Rachel. I'm so happy."
Tears sprang into her eyes. "I love you, too, Noah.... And I'm ecstatic!"
They stayed in a quiet embrace for a moment as both of them thought about their lives were about to be transformed. Would they need to move? Could they even afford a baby? Would she be a crazy pregnant woman? Finally, Rachel's stomach grumbled loudly and Noah loosened his grip on her. Puck looked down at his short, petite wife and Rachel watched the glint appear in his eye.
"What?" She cocked her head quizzically as she waited for an answer.
Puck laughed, dropping a kiss to her forehead. "Baby...you're a MILF now."
Rachel glowered at him and then groaned. "You always bring things back to the most basic, neanderthal-esque level, don't you?"
Puck gave her a toothy grin and said, "Go call my mom. Tell her that she's finally going to get that little green-eyed, Jewish grandbaby. I'm going to get us some fucking food before I die."
Rachel watched Puck leave, smiling at the broad expanse of his muscular back as he disappeared through the door. Picking up her cell phone, she sucked in a breath and prepared herself for the insanity that awaited her on the other end of the line. But for once - for this - Rachel knew she could handle her mother-in-law. And for what was probably the first time in the four years they'd been related, she might actually listen to the advice that Maggie doled out so freely.
Rachel heard the phone ring once before Maggie answered from her tiny house in Lima, Ohio. Grinning like a fool, she began to speak....