Title: I Don't Want To Wait For Our Lives To Be Over
Rating: T - offensive language
Spoilers: Up to and containing elements of "Original Song" then AU.
Word Count: 12,246
Disclaimer: Don't own Glee, or the music.
Author's Note: The title comes from the theme song to Dawson's Creek, "I Don't Want To Wait" by Paula Cole. This whole thing was inspired by a conversation in the comments of my last Puck/Rachel To The Toppermost of the Poppermost, about how Puck is Rachel's Pacey. I blame this entirely on sarcastic fina for encouraging me to write this.
Summary: Puck was Rachel's Pacey. It really was as simple as that it didn't make any sense to Brittney that no one saw it but her.
Santana stared at the cafeteria doors. Through the window she could see Rachel and Puck screaming at each other. They'd been tense and short with each other all week. Over what, no one was really all that sure. When she asked Puck he went on a thirty minute rant about how Rachel was an up-tight stuck up bitch who needed to keep her nose out of his shit. When Britt had asked Rachel, well Santana wasn't really sure what Rachel actually said because Brittany had only managed to pay attention to about half of the conversation but she said she thought it might have had something to do with appliqués.
"Appliques?" Santana had frowned at the other girl.
"Yeah you know like those things you iron on your jeans." Brittany patted Santana's hand sadly, upset for her friend because sometimes she was a little stupid. "Maybe Rachel ruined a pair of Puck's favorite jeans." Brittney offered and Sam and snorted, causing Santana to wonder if maybe Rachel had actually ruined a pair of Puck's jeans, just not in the way that Brittney imagined.
Whatever they were upset about this time they'd been snapping at each other all week in Glee, tossing snide little comments at each other, and she thought Puck might have started coming to Math class just to piss Rachel off. It had just been simmering there under the surface though until right before lunch when Rachel stormed up to Puck's locker and shoved a pile of papers in his hands and walked off. Puck had looked down at them and his face turned this really scary shade of red before taking off after her, the papers clenched tightly in his fist.
From what Santana had been able to gather he'd followed her outside, screamed her name from across the quad and threw the papers back in her face. The word "bitch" might or might not have been thrown out at some point by Puck soon followed after by the word "loser" from Rachel. All she knew was that by the time she got to the cafeteria they'd both been screaming at each other; no holds barred, tossing everything out in the open. Santana was pretty sure at one point they'd even both slipped into another language. "Hebrew," Artie had said, giving the two of them a wide berth as he headed in for some food. Santana followed him, vowing not to get caught up in their weird little drama.
But even after she got her food she couldn't stop staring at the scene. It was just weird to her. She didn't think that two people who weren't even dating could get that mad at each other. She forced herself to tear her gaze away from the window only to find Brittney staring at her quizzically, her head tilted to the side. "What?" Santana asked slightly self consciously.
"You don't look good in peach." Brittney said as if that caused her all kinds of distress. Santana looked down to double check what she was pretty sure she already knew; she wasn't wearing anything peach.
"Ok, thanks for that random announcement." Santana grabbed a fry from Artie's plate and shoved it in her mouth.
"But I look great in peach." Brittney continued. "Which is weird, I know, considering my skin tone and hair color. It just works." Santana looked over at Artie who normally had this really weird ability to translate Britt speak but he just shrugged. "How do you feel about Coral? Perhaps a lovely Salmon color."
"What exactly is this for Britt?" Santana asked her.
"Our dresses," Brittney's face brightened up at that. "For the wedding." Santana's eyebrows raised in surprise. "I'm going to be the maid of honor but I'm sure you'll be a bridesmaid and I had my heart set on peach dresses but you don't look good in peach." Brittney said.
"Who the hell is getting married?" Santana asked.
"Rachel and Puck," she said and the whole table stopped what they were doing to turn to the blonde. She seemed to realize that everyone was staring at her with that look they always got when they thought she was totally and completely off base about something and she rolled her eyes. "Obviously not any time soon or anything but I like planning ahead."
"Honey, Kurt and I will spend a weekend locked in my bedroom having wild passionate sex before Rachel and Puck ever, ever get married." Santana laughed.
"That's not nice Santana. Kurt is with Blaine now; I like Blaine so please don't seduce Kurt away from him." Brittney shook her head at her best friend in disappointment.
"I'm not gonna seduce Kurt away from Blaine. I couldn't even if I tried, he's gayer than gay so stop looking at me like I kicked your puppy." Santana groaned. "I'm just saying, Rachel and Puck can't be in the same room with each other for more than ten minutes without tearing each other's head off lately. That does not a happy marriage make."
"If anyone could convert Kurt it would be you. You told me yourself your vagina has magical powers. Kurt would be defenseless." This time all the boys at the table practically choked trying not to laugh and Santana wasn't sure if Brittney was giving her a compliment regarding her sexual prowess or if she literally thought she was a witch who had a magical vagina instead of a wand. "Besides, all that is just foreplay. Foreplay that's been going on for like a year now so they must be getting pretty close to exploding."
"Look, sweetie. Rachel and Puck aren't…there's just no way they end up together. She's all hung up on Finnocent the douche and Puck couldn't stick with one woman if his life depended on it. He would get bored in like a day and then his dick would literally shrivel up and die."
"Nope." Brittney shook her head, annoyed that they couldn't see it. "Rachel got over Finn a long time ago which is good because while I like Rachel and I like Finn, I only like them separately. When they're together they become these other people. Finn is mean and does stupid stuff like sleep with you and lie about it and hurts Rachel's feelings and she turns into this desperate, clingy person. I don't like that Finn and Rachel."
Santana opened her mouth to counter but she couldn't. Brittney was right, Finn's inner douche did seem to come out more when Rachel was involved and when Rachel was with Finn she sort of became the anti-Rachel just to hold onto him which Santana always thought was bull shit. If a guy didn't like you for you then fuck them, never change yourself for a guy.
"And Puck wouldn't get bored with Rachel. She keeps him on his toes and she never backs down from him, even sometimes when she probably should. I imagine that she'd be the same in bed." Brittney tilted her head to the side, as if she was actually imagining what Rachel would be like in bed. Which made Santana imagine what Rachel might be like in bed, which led to Santana imagining what Rachel and Brittney would be like in bed. She didn't feel bad though because she was pretty sure that everyone else at the table was imagining it too.
Her suspicions were confirmed when Artie spoke up, his voice slightly hoarse, "She'd be constantly pushing against him, never relenting or letting him gain the upper hand," he swallowed and so did everyone else,
"And you've heard her sing. Imagine her putting all the energy and emotion she puts into each and every song into sex." Sam offered.
"She'd be a screamer," Mike agreed.
All at once, the boys cringed as Brittney, Santana, and Tina smacked their respective boyfriends in the back of the head.
"They work." Brittney shrugged as if she'd made her point.
"But Britt, they really don't." Santana said, trying to make her best friend realize because eventually they'd start dating other people and then Britt would be crushed. "You have to understand—"
"No," Brittney shook her head forcibly. "You have to understand. He's her Pacey." When everyone looked at as if she was the one speaking Hebrew she sighed. She really hated how she was always having to explain everything to them, but someone had to do it. "From that show, Dawson's Creek. Everyone thought Joey would end up Dawson but she ended up with Pacey. It was quite a twist." Brittney smiled but they all still seemed to be confused.
"Let me break it down for you." Brittney squirmed in her seat getting comfortable. "Dawson's are your first loves. They're the boy next door. They're the nice guy. They're everything a first love should be, gentle and pure and innocent. But it's not real. It's just this fantasy that you imagine love to be when you're a kid. With Dawson's you get sweaty palms and chaste kisses, holding hands and blushing, there's always lots of blushing." Brittney smiled fondly, obviously thinking of her first love, of her Dawson and then her smile fell. "But then you grow up and you realize that's not really what love is at all. That it's so much more than that, much more complicated and yet, simpler."
"It's Pacey." Santana said, catching on.
Brittney smiled again, bigger and brighter, sliding her hand in Artie's. "Pacey's are flawed. Pacey's are complex, Pacey's are forever. They take hard work and compromise but in the end they're worth it, they're lasting. With Pacey's you might fight and hurt each other but you make up and you move on and everything will mean more because it is more." Brittney squeezed Artie's hand and then went back to her lunch. "You grow out of Dawson's, you grow with Pacey's."
"So Finn is Dawson and Puck is Pacey?" Sam asked and Brittney nodded.
They all turned to look at the window where Rachel and Puck were still yelling at each other. "Does anyone know what they're even fighting about?" Santana asked.
"Do they even know what they're fighting about at this point?" Tina asked.
"Colleges, or rather, college applications," Sam said and Santana nodded because: applications not appliqués, "Rachel's on Puck's ass to fill out all these applications for all these schools. She's pissed at him because he keeps blowing her off and he's pissed at her because he's convinced that he'll never get in so he doesn't see the point but she won't let it go. So Rachel took it upon herself to fill them out for him. That's what she gave him at his locker." Sam looked up from his lunch to see that everyone was staring at him. "What? We talk when we're lifting weights," he shrugged.
They look back over at the door. They've been fighting for pretty much the whole lunch hour and people are starting to leave. A few guys slip out of the cafeteria and the door latches, staying open after they're gone and letting everyone in the cafeteria now hear what they'd only been able to see before.
"Look, Berry I'm not your little project ok. You're not Henry Higgins and I'm not Eliza Doolittle. This isn't some lame teen comedy where the pretty smart girl takes the poor dumb kid under her wings. There's not gonna be a crappy musical montage where I apply myself and study real hard. This isn't going to end with me acing the final exam and getting into some Ivy League school. I'll tell you how this ends. You go off to Broadway and become a star and I stay here and get some blue collar job. That's how this has to end. So when we graduate just fuck off to New York and do me a favor, forget I ever existed." Puck snapped at her.
"Do you think it's that simple? Don't you think I'd do that if I could?" Rachel snapped back. "But I can't Noah because for some reason I can't see the point of fucking off to New York if you're not gonna be there too." She smacked his arm, hard. "Asshole."
They stood there staring at each other for a minute. Puck was breathing deeply in and out in an effort to control himself. Rachel was staring at him wide eyed in horror, her hand covering her mouth. No one was sure if she was concerned about the fact that she just cursed, loudly, twice, or if it was more about the other things she'd said, of what she'd just let slip.
Puck reached out slowly, grabbing onto her elbow and pulling until her hand fell from her mouth and then his other hand was wrapping around her neck and then they were kissing. Rachel gripped his shoulders tight, pushing and pulling him all at once, Puck dropped her arm to grab her waist, yanking her up against his body and holding her there as their lips fought for dominance.
"Foreplay huh?" Artie asked swallowing hard watching them basically battle each other. He'd be surprised if either of them walked away from this without bruises.
Brittney simply clapped, jumping up and down a little in her seat next to him. "See, he's her Pacey." Then she promptly dropped the subject and started talking to Artie about having to lay down the law with her cat once and for all because reading her diary was one thing but now she's convinced that he's borrowing her clothes without asking and that's just one step too far.
Santana continued to watch Puck and Rachel as Sam tried to tell Brittney that he was sure it was all just a misunderstanding and that maybe her cat tried to ask but since Brittney doesn't speak cat, she didn't understand.
Puck had never kissed her like that, ever. Even when she promised to act out some of his more unconventional bedroom fantasies. Maybe he wouldn't get tired of Rachel.
They pulled away, finally having to come up for air and she watched Rachel nudge his nose with hers. It was a simple gesture, but it made Puck close his eyes and sigh, resting his forehead against hers. "You think I'm pretty," Rachel said, her face breaking out into a smile. He opened his eyes then, giving her a warning look. "You said it, 'the pretty smart girl', you think I'm pretty. And you made a musical reference, I knew you were paying attention."
"I think your fucking hot babe," he smirked at her, ignoring the whole musical thing. "Especially when you curse. Say it again?" he asked and she smiled, laughing.
"What? Asshole? I'm sure Noah, that once we starting spending more time together in New York, you will hear it quite often."
"I'm sure I will," Puck chuckled. "But I meant 'fucking'. Rachel Berry said 'fucking' and I'm pretty sure I almost came in my pants."
"Noah, must you cheapen the moment?" Rachel rolled her eyes and tried to pull away from him but he held her closer and kissed her again. "We will though, won't we?"
"Fuck?" Noah asked his eyebrows raising. "Shit, are you trying to kill me with questions like that? We most definitely will be fucking Berry. You can count on that."
Rachel sighed, all her anger and ire from earlier gone just leaving her alone with her insecurities. "I meant, we will be spending time together in New York, wont we?"
"Rach…" Puck sighed.
"You just have to write the essays and I'll help you," Rachel promised.
"What if I don't get in?" he asked her quietly and that was when she realizes that maybe badass Noah Puckerman is just as insecure as she is.
"You'll get in," Rachel assured him. "And if you don't, well, we'll deal with that too," she said and she was so determined that Puck actually believed her.
"Fine, I'll write the fucking essays, happy now?" Puck grunted.
"Ecstatic," Rachel smiled and kissed him.
"Can we eat now?" Puck asked her. "I'm fucking starving." Rachel nodded and pulled him into the cafeteria. Santana watched them as they went through the line, Puck dropping two hamburgers and a large helping a fries on his plate much to Rachel's disgust and then he grabbed a salad and a bottle of water for her. He paid and walked over to their table, sitting down directly across from Santana.
"What's up?" Puck asked no one in particular.
"My cat is borrowing my clothes. Without my permission," Brittney told him.
"You want me to have a talk with him?" Puck asked and Brittney smiled at him.
"Please. He'll be home between 3 and 5 tonight. I'd really appreciate it."
"No problem," Puck shrugged. "Happy to help." Rachel beamed up at him, touched that he would do something like that for Brittney. He twisted open the top on her water bottle and handed it to her. "What?" he asked. "That cat is seriously out of control Rach, someone's got to do something." She caught the faint upturn of his lips before he stuffed almost half the burger in his mouth.
Santana just shook her head and moved her attention back to her own abandoned lunch. It wasn't anymore appetizing now then it was when she got it. She looked up and grabbed a handful of fries from Puck's tray and he made a move, almost like he was going to slap her hand away, but one scowl from Rachel and he stopped.
"I'm not wearing fucking Coral, or Salmon. That's a fish not a color." Santana told Brittney.
Puck and Rachel looked at her confused but no one else seemed to even remotely phased by her random outburst. "What about Red?" Brittney asked and Santana paused.
"I look fucking hot in red," she nodded and Brittney seemed pleased.
Additional Author's Note: For those of you reading this who aren't acquainted with the awesomeness that was Dawson's Creek, in the words of Brittney, let me break it down for you. Literally from the first second of the first shot of the series, everyone was in agreement that Dawson and Joey would get together. It was simply a given, there is no way that it could ever end any other way. He was smart, he was sensitive, he was deep and full of teen angst and according to some, he was cute (I was never really all that into James Van Der Beek, he just wasn't my type). Then 6 season's later, in the series finale she chooses Pacey, Dawson's fun loving, screw up, big hearted best womanizing best friend. For pretty much everyone who wasn't a Pacey/Joey shipper it was a serious WTF moment. The whole thing was made even more poignant in that Joey chose Pacey over Dawson, it was a conscious decision on her part because the writers realized that they'd developed their characters so realistically that despite the fact that their endgame had always been Dawson and Joey there was no way she couldn't choose Pacey. Dawson was her fantasy of love, Pacey was the real thing. The As a die-hard Puckleberry shipper I chose to believe that the writers of Glee will come to this very same conclusion. The Finn's of the world are Dawson's. The Puck's are Pacey's. And Pacey's always get the girl.