Puck stared into the mirror and frowned, re-adjusting the bow tie for the hundredth time that morning but it still wasn't straight. He groaned and pulled at the cloth, unraveling the knot to start over again. He could do this, he did this all the time. Between Glee club and going with Rachel to all her Broadway things he'd tied an insane amount of bowties for a juvenile delinquent from Lima, Ohio.
But this one was different and for the life of him he couldn't seem to get it right. "You sure you don't want me to do that for you?" Finn asked from the door way to the bathroom.
"I got it," Puck growled pulling the knot only to undo it again in frustration.
"Dude, your hands are shaking." Finn chuckled and Puck stopped to glare at him through the mirror.
"Fuck off," Puck smirked and Finn shook his head and walked back into the room.
Puck looked down at his hands which actually were shaking a bit, fucking Hudson, and forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He looked up at the mirror and into the room behind him. Mike and Artie were laughing at some story Kyle, the bassist in his band was telling and Kurt was putting in Finn's boutonniere because Finn had already poked himself like fifteen times with the pin and bled all over his tuxedo jacket. Finn screeched as Kurt poked him in the chest with the pin and Mike, Artie and Ryan laughed really loud and Puck's knuckles went white, bunching the silk bow tie in his fist.
He loved his friends, he really did and he wouldn't want anyone else there with him today but at this moment in time, he just wanted some peace and quiet.
"Hey, assmunchers, clear the room." Santanna said, throwing the door open and forcing her way inside. Puck relaxed against the sink, never had he loved Santana more than at that moment in time. He heard a few grumbles and then the door closed and finally there was quiet.
He turned around and leaned against the bathroom sink and then sunk down to the ground, relaxing for the first time that day. "Hey."
"Hey," Santanna slid to the floor next to him, smoothing out her dress.
"Is Rachel ok?" Puck asked, panicked for a second.
"She's fine," Santanna rolled her eyes and leaned her head back against the bathroom cabinet. "She was getting her make-up redone when I left." Puck raised his eyebrows in a question as to why Rachel's make-up would need to be redone. "Your mom gave her some pearl necklace that your great-grandma smuggled out of Germany in a loaf of bread or something and she just stared bawling."
Puck smiled. He knew what necklace she was talking about. His grandma used to tell them the story every Hanukah. How when her mom, his great-grandmother, found out she was pregnant, his great-grandfather sold everything they had and used the money to get them across the border and into Switzerland. His great-grandmother supposedly hid the pearls, which had been in the family forever, in a baguette and managed to smuggle it across the border with them.
Puck really hoped that his mom didn't tell Rachel the rest of the story which was that his great-grandfather, not knowing about the pearls 'cause he thought they'd sold everything, ate the baguette, along with the pearls. They had to wait a week for it to pass and apparently it was super painful. His mom swore they sterilized the thing with like industrial strength bleach, like the stuff they use at crime scenes, but still. That shit was kind of nasty.
He was pretty sure his mom was going to be buried in the thing so the fact that she was giving it to Rachel was serious. His mom went crazy when he told her that he and Rachel were finally together and practically had to be institutionalized when he told her they were getting married. He knew his mom loved Rachel but it wasn't until now that he really got that his mom loved Rachel.
"So, I got you some wedding presents," Santanna said and he noticed the bag at her side for the first time. She reached in and pulled out two bottles and he laughed.
"Ok, so I get the tequila, but what's with the mouthwash?" Puck asked moving so that he was facing her.
"The Patron is so you relax a bit, make sure you don't do something stupid, like kill Finn," Santanna said opening the bottle and taking a swig before passing it over. Finn had been more annoying than usual today and Puck was starting to regret naming Finn as his best man. But Rachel had called dibs on Santanna literally like five minutes after he proposed (which was like two minutes into some seriously hot bathtub sex and he was too torn between being turned on and annoyed that she was thinking about Santanna during sex so he just agreed with her).
Puck took a long swing of the tequila, gagging a bit as it went down and laughed. "And the mouthwash?"
"Ah, the Listerine is so Rachel doesn't kill us when the Rabbi says, "You may kiss the bride," and she tastes the tequila." Santanna said sagely.
"You totally should have been my best man," Puck said taking another swig and Santanna smirked at that. She basically had been. She'd completely taken over the bachelor party when she found out that Finn was just planning on buying a few rounds at Lima's local sports bar. Puck didn't complain though because it was legit the most epic two days in Vegas since the Hangover. Seriously, shit went down that no one was ever going to talk about again. Kurt and Santanna still couldn't look each other in the eye after Puck found them passed out, naked, obviously post-coital in the hot tub. Still the annulment went through pretty easily and now they both had that experience to look back on.
"You know it," Santanna held out her fist and Puck hit it with his.
"You're gonna be there right?" Puck asked, looking up at her as she passed the bottle back.
"Dude, don't worry. I'm gonna be right up there next to Rachel, making damn sure you don't like mess up your lines or whatever, so chill." Santanna nudged his shoulder with hers.
"I think I've got this, but thanks. I meant, like, after." Puck looked up at her sheepishly, spinning the bottle around the floor. "You're gonna be there right? Cause like, I don't know if I can do this without you. I mean I might screw up and if I do I'm gonna need you there to make sure that Rachel doesn't like leave me and that I don't do something stupid and make things worse or whatever."
"Oh honey," Santanna smiled at him and put a soft hand on his shoulder. "There is no if. You're gonna screw up. A lot. Like seriously a lot, I mean like there are gonna be times you screw up and you don't even know it." Puck glared at her. "But don't worry because I'll be there to tell you when that happens, and I'll be there to talk you down when Rachel's crazy reaches dangerously high levels and to kick you in the nuts when you screw up." Puck laughed.
"Thanks," he sighed in relief.
Santanna pulled herself to her feet before pulling Puck up beside her. She grabbed his bowtie and started tying it for him. "Look, I fucking love you guys or whatever and it's cute that you thought you might have a marriage that didn't involve me but that's not gonna happen." She patted his cheek a bit harder than she probably needed to and then handed him the tequila. "One more shot," Puck complied taking a quick swig. "Mouthwash," she took the Patron and swapped it for the Listerine. Puck swished and spit and then blew in Santanna's face for a breath check.
"I think I'm ready," Puck nodded.
"Alright, let's go get married," Santanna headed for the door and Puck wanted to remind her that he was getting married, him and Rachel, not him, Rachel, and Santanna, but honestly he'd be kidding himself. Somehow it had always been the three of them and it should really be a lot weirder than it actually was but it worked so he wasn't gonna be the one to rock the boat. "Oh and you know me and your future wife?" Santanna turned around when they got to the door. "We totally made out a few months ago."
Puck glared at her for a second, "I'm torn right now between being incredibly turned on and seriously pissed."
"Go with incredibly turned on," Santanna shrugged. "I am." Santanna smacked his ass playfully before walking back to Rachel's room and Puck laughed.
March - 2022
Puck splashed his face with a handful of cold water, not even caring that it dripped down the front of his shirt. He was fucking hot. He'd been on stage for two hours. It was supposed to be a 45-minute set but the manager came up to him when he was done and said the guys who were going on after them got into a huge fight backstage (the lead singer was banging the drummer who was apparently married to the bassist). They'd split up, no more band and the manager needed to fill another hour-long set.
He was exhausted but exhilarated at the same time. They hadn't prepared a two-hour set so when they went back up there, they did the whole thing off the cuff. Puck would just start playing a song, any song, and within two or three chords the guys were backing him up, almost like they knew what he was going to play before he played it. They were more in sync than they'd ever been and it was like the crowd could tell. People were going wild, which just made the guys play harder, which just made the crowd even wilder.
When he'd started the band back in his senior year of college, it had just been for fun, just something to do on the weekends when Rachel had dance classes and vocal lessons. None of them took it too seriously, just playing in each other's living rooms once a week. Then Rachel had gotten her first real role and she was at the theater more and more, so Puck started instigating 'jam sessions' more and more. Then one of the guys said he had a buddy that bartended at this dive in Alphabet City and they were always looking for bands.
They'd never really discussed actually playing but the more he thought about it, the more Puck liked the idea. He'd never admit it but he missed being on stage, missed performing like back in high school with the glee club. So he'd talked the others into it. The pay was shit but the beer was free and they only played covers but the rush was unforgettable. They started doing more and more gigs and eventually, they started getting paid actual money, too.
In four years, he went through three drummers, two bassists and one back-up guitarist but they finally found a combination that seemed to work pretty well. Then one day Puck came in with a song he'd been messing with and they worked on it together and suddenly, they were writing music. One night, they played an original song and the crowd actually liked it. So the next gig they played a few original songs and pretty soon, their whole set was original and Puck started thinking they were a real band.
This was why he did this – nights like tonight with just him and his band up there on the stage, feeding off the energy of the crowd and playing like the devil himself was on their tails, with his wife out there, screaming and cheering louder than anyone else. Speaking of his wife, he turned around when the bathroom door opened and she slipped inside, a huge smile on her face and her cheeks still red from excitement.
"Here," she said, pulling a bottle of water out of her bag and tossing it to him. It was still fucking cold and that's why he loved her. He gulped the whole thing down in one go then tossed the empty bottle in the trash.
"You're the best," he smiled up at her.
"That was…amazing. I've never seen you play like that. It's like you knew." She took two steps and grabbed his face in her hands, smashing her lips against his. She always did love to watch him perform. Some of the best sex they ever had was after gigs, her all hot and bothered from watching him on stage and him full of leftover adrenaline from the show.
She was sliding her hands up the back of his shirt when something she'd said pushed its way through the haze of lust in his brain. "Wait, what?" Puck pulled back a little. "Knew what?"
Rachel sighed and bit her lip. "Okay, you can't get mad at me."
"Why don't I ever like it when you start shit with that sentence?" Puck sighed and leaned against the sink.
"No, I think you'll like this. Well, I hope you'll like this," Rachel sighed. "And I know you hate it when I use my 'influence' to get stuff, which I don't think I do because I'm not sure I actually have any 'influence', but you say I use it all the time so I want you to know that I absolutely did not do that. I had no idea who he was and he certainly had no idea that you were my husband. I swear."
"Rach, cut to the chase," Puck smirked slightly. She did too use her 'influence' to get stuff. Which he thought was cool when it got them first class seats on flights or that time they got upgraded from a regular suite to the Sky Villa at the Palms in Vegas. It was totally not cool when he'd come home completely psyched because he got a call from the studio he worked at that his current favorite band requested him to be their session guitarist and he was greeted with, "Yeah, their agent is friends with my agent and he mentioned they were looking for someone while they were in town so I recommended you."
That was a huge fight. He said he was going to call and decline. She asked why and he told her he thought he'd gotten the job because he was good, that they'd somehow heard of him and wanted him. She said they did hear about him, they heard about him from her. He said no, they heard about him from their agent who heard about it from her agent who heard about it from her. She wanted to know what the difference was and he said when she 'recommends' something to her agent, he would take it to mean, This is what I want, make it happen by any means necessary because I basically pay your rent.
She told him that was ridiculous, that he was being ridiculous and there was no way he was cancelling because if he cancelled, it would look bad for her. They screamed for another hour and he spent two days on Santana's couch. In the end, he'd done the session and it had been one of the best moments in his life. They talked and she said she still didn't understand what the big deal was if she helped him get his foot in the door. Once he was there, he could prove he was the right person for the job but if it bothered him that much, she would never do it again.
He thanked her, apologized for getting so upset about it, and they had awesome make up sex. Later that night in bed, he told her he wouldn't mind if she used her 'influence' every now and then but only in Epic Musical Emergencies. Like if Led Zeppelin ever got back together and decided to do another studio album and happened to need a session guitarist or, you know, other situations similar to that. She laughed and said she'd have her agent be on the lookout for that but he probably shouldn't hold his breath because she was pretty sure John Bonham died in the 80's.
After he jumped her again, because honestly, it was totally hot that she not only knew John Bonham was dead but she knew enough about Zeppelin to know who the hell John Bonham was, he pointed out that John's son Jason could totally take his place so it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility.
"Okay, so a few of the cast wanted to go out for drinks after the show and I said I already had plans. They asked what and I said I was going to see your band and they sort of invited themselves along because they said they'd never seen you play," Rachel took a deep breath and Puck raised his eyebrows cause so far nothing was too terribly bad. "And one of the girls invited her boyfriend and a few of his friends to meet us here and I swear I had no clue one of them was an A&R Manager for Epic Records until he was asking if we knew anything about the band and then one of the guys – not me – told him that you were my husband. So he asked me if you had a manager and you don't, which I've told you over and over you need, so he started talking to me about how I thought you'd feel about coming in and playing for a few people. We talked for a while and nothing is set in stone, I mean, he's got to meet the band first, but I'm almost pretty sure that he wants to sign you guys."
"Wait, back up," Puck said, trying to process everything but she was doing that thing she did when she excited or nervous where her words came out like a mile a minute. "One of the girls from the theater's boyfriends—"
"Boyfriend's friend," she corrected. "Brian."
"Boyfriend's friend is an A&R guy at Epic Records and he wants to meet with us?" Rachel nodded. "And you think he might want to sign us?"
"I'm like 97% sure he mentioned the words 'record' and 'deal' in the same sentence." Rachel smiled hugely as Puck finally understood what that meant.
"A record deal?" he whispered.
"And I had nothing to do with it I swear," Rachel held up her hands. When he didn't say anything, she frowned. "Is this a good thing?"
Puck actually had to think about that. He had always told her that the band wasn't about 'being a band'. It was never supposed to be about making it, about record deals or world tours. He had a job, well, two jobs actually. Most of his time was spent playing sessions for a few of the record companies around town and occasionally that led to a gig as a backup guitarist for some live events. It paid well and he'd been lucky to get pretty steady work but there were times when there just weren't any sessions available so he supplemented that by teaching guitar.
He had started out teaching a class three times a week at the local community college but then he found out he could make a lot more giving solo lessons and now he actually made more teaching then he did doing session work. He liked doing both though. It was nice to get a break from teaching spoiled rich kids in the Upper East Side to play Smoke on the Water and just chill out in the studio.
So it's true he hadn't actively sought it out but shit, he wasn't stupid. If an A&R guy from Epic fucking Records wanted him to come in and play for some people and maybe talk about a record deal, he wasn't going to be stupid enough to say, "No, thanks. I'm happy just playing in shithole bars."
"This is definitely a good thing," Puck said, letting the idea sort of settle over him.
"You're not mad?" Rachel asked, unsure.
"Baby, you just told me that you accidently got me a fucking record deal," Puck laughed at her. "I'm so far from mad, it's not even funny." She smiled brightly and he couldn't help laughing before sliding his arms around her waist, lifting her up in the air and spinning her around. "A fucking record deal," he repeated before setting her down and capturing her lips in a kiss.
It was like that one little kiss opened up the floodgates and suddenly, all the adrenaline he was feeling when she first walked in was back. Plus on top of that was the excitement over the prospect of a record deal and she was obviously feeling the same way because before he even knew what was happening, she'd slipped her hands under his shirt, dragging her nails down his abs in a way that she knew drove him fucking crazy.
"Baby," he gasped into her mouth but he just felt her lips smirk against his as her fingers moved down to his belt buckle, flipping it open one-handed and shoving his pants down to his knees. "Wait," he panted against her shoulder even as he slipped the strap of her sundress down. They were in the bathroom. He's pretty sure people were going to start to wonder where they were and possibly even come to look for them. Plus there was some guy out there who wanted to give him a record deal.
None of that mattered when Rachel took a few steps back and slipped her hands up under her dress. He saw her hips shake a bit and then she was pulling her panties down to her knees, stepping out of them one leg at a time. He'd been bitching about the fucking heat wave they'd been having for the past three weeks because the air conditioning in their apartment was temperamental at best but right now he was so fucking grateful that she wasn't wearing jeans and boots or, even worse, tights.
It only took one of his steps and she was back in his arms then he had her backed up against the bathroom door and her legs were wrapped around his waist. Then she whispered, "My husband, the rock star," in his ear and he was pushing inside of her with no warning. She didn't seem to mind if the gasp that turned into a deep moan was any indication. Her hands were clutching at his shoulders and he was using all of his strength to make sure the both of them didn't collapse to the ground. She was making these sounds in the back of her throat that he'd never heard her make before and she'd managed to find this spot just under his jaw that buckled his knees for just a second, and how in the hell after all this time did he not know that was there?
He would have been embarrassed at how quickly the whole thing was over if it hadn't also been the hottest fucking sex ever. "I think you broke me," Rachel whispered, her whole body draped against him.
He laughed. "That's like…seriously awesome babe but I just played a two hour set then had the most amazing sex ever—"
"Yeah, you did," Rachel lifted her head up and he smiled.
"—but I'm pretty sure I'm two seconds away from dropping you so if you could just…" He looked down at her and she kissed him softly before sliding her legs to the ground and standing up. He grabbed some paper towels so they could clean up a bit and then pulled his pants back up just as Santana burst through the bathroom door.
"Hey, you guys have been in here forever. Brian's getting bored and I'm fucking starving so we're going out for waffles."
"I could murder some waffles," Puck said, his stomach growling in agreement.
Rachel ducked out of the bathroom and Puck slung an arm around Santana's shoulder pulling her to the door. "What's with the touching?" she narrowed her eyes at him. "And the creepy smile?"
"I can't be in a good mood?" Puck asked her and she rolled her eyes. He thought about it a second then flipped his right leg to the side, smacking her in the butt with his shoe hard.
"What the hell was that for?" she grunted, stumbling a bit.
"You know what that was for," Puck grunted and she smirked because she totally did. Santana had this strange ability to know every time Puck and Rachel had sex, like every fucking time, and she never failed to show up at the exactly the right moment to ruin his post-sex high and he knew she did it on purpose. He was halfway convinced she had some sort of secret tracking device on his junk that let her know whenever it got within a foot of Rachel.
April - 2022
"Definitely not. What about Levi?"
"I don't think so. Micha?"
"What the hell kind of lame ass names are those?" Santana asked from the doorway, interrupting Puck and Rachel. Rachel was lying in the middle of the bathroom, flat on the floor, Puck lying on her right side, his cheek resting softly on her stomach.
"They're Hebrew," Rachel and Puck said at the same time.
Santana walked over and handed Rachel the newly refilled bottle of water and then plopped back down on the ground. She laid her head right next to Puck's on Rachel's stomach, their noses practically touching and he glared at her. "Whatever. Like seriously, if you name your kid Ezra, he's gonna come home with his underwear in his ass crack until he's 20."
"What do you suggest?" Rachel asked, almost amused.
"Explain to me again why we're letting her suggest anything?" Puck asked, playfully kicking Santana's leg away from his. "This is our baby, Rach."
"It's my baby too," Santana protested.
"Yeah, except that it's not." Puck snorted. "In any way shape or form. I'm pretty sure I'd remember if you had any part in its conception." Puck had a sudden flashback to that bathroom a month ago, pressing Rachel against the door, gasping his name.
"Guys, we don't even know if there is a baby yet."
"Come on, Rach, six pregnancy tests can't be wrong." Puck lifted his head up and rested his chin on her stomach to look at her. "You've been sick and emotional and your boobs have totally gotten bigger. What's it going to take for you to see?"
"Seven," Rachel said, gulping down half the water bottle. "Seven home pregnancy tests and then I'll make the doctor's appointment."
"Come on, don't you have to pee yet?" Santana asked her.
"Nope," Rachel shook her head and took another long swig of water. "What about Seth?"
Puck paused. "I don't hate Seth."
"How come you guys are only tossing around boy names? What if it's a girl?"
"Caroline," they both said at the same time and Santana rolled her eyes at them.
"You guys are so lame," she said, kicking Puck's ankles.
"Oh," Rachel said suddenly sitting up and dislodging the both of them from her stomach. "There it is." She hurried over to the toilet, grabbing the seventh pregnancy test off the counter as she went. When she was finished she set the timer on her phone and laid back down on the ground, Santana and Puck both resuming their original position on her stomach.
"What if it's positive?" Rachel asked.
"Seeing as how the other six were positive, I'm gonna go ahead and call this one," Puck snorted.
"I mean, what if it's positive?" Rachel propped herself up on her elbows to look down at him. "It means that we're having a baby. Like a baby."
Puck sat up and frowned at her. "Would that be such a bad thing?"
"No, I don't know. I guess not." Rachel huffed in frustration. "What about my job? What about money? Do you know how much a baby costs? Are we even ready for a baby? We just got married and you're going to start working on your album soon which will lead to concerts and touring around the world and-"
"First of all, I haven't even gotten in the studio yet, you're getting a little ahead of yourself with the concerts and world tours Rach," Puck pointed out and she softened a bit. "And if—if—that happens, we'll figure it out."
"Ok," Rachel took a breath.
"And, I'm ready," Puck said honestly. "I know we've only been married a year but I'm ready. And you're between shows right now anyway and you said you kind of wanted a break. We actually make pretty good money, Rach. It might get tight sometimes but we've lived through that before and we can do it again if we need to. Sticky fingers aside, you do want kids, right?"
Rachel smiled at the fact that he remembered that nightmare from so long ago. "I mean, I guess I have been talking about taking some time off and I'm not getting any younger, and while theoretically I haven't always wanted kids, lately I've found myself sort of wanting your kids. It's just now that the possibility is quite real, I find that I'm scared."
"Of what?" Puck scooted a bit closer to her.
"I never had a mom," Rachel said quietly. "I don't know what moms do. I've prepared myself diligently for every step that I've taken in my career to make sure that I was the best but I never prepared for this."
"No one prepares for this," Puck laughed softly at her. "It just happens and then you deal with it the best way you know how and if there's one thing I know about you, it's that your best is like ten times better than anyone else's good. Look, you set out to make New York and Broadway your bitch and you totally did that. So I know that if you really set your mind to it, you can do the same thing with motherhood."
"Make it my bitch?" Rachel smirked at him.
"Yeah, well, whatever." Puck rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."
"It would be nice, to have a little baby," Rachel said. "Maybe one with your eyes."
"And your lips," Puck kissed her softly.
"And your…badassness." Rachel teased him.
"Definitely your voice." Puck said.
"And my nose." Santana chimed in and they both turned to her. "Come on, you have to admit that out of the three of us, I have the best nose."
"Look, how many times do I have to tell you that you—" Rachel put a hand on Puck's arm and shook her head.
"Let her have this one," Rachel said softly and he rolled his eyes and laid back down on her stomach. Rachel's phone beeped a minute later and she took a deep breath and looked at the test. Just like the six before it, the electronic screen read 'pregnant'. "I'll call the doctor in the morning." Rachel said and Puck smiled, tilting his head to drop a kiss on her stomach and bringing a hand up to lay over her belly button.
"Hello in there," he whispered softly, his fingers rubbing gently across her abdomen. "I'm your dad. We're not gonna officially meet for another nine months but I'm gonna talk to you and I'm gonna sing to you and you're totally gonna know my voice by the time you get out of there."
"You do know that if there is a baby, it's basically still an egg sac. It doesn't have ears or anything yet," Rachel chuckled, slipping her hand into the hair on top of Puck's head and lightly scraping her nails along his scalp.
"Please don't call my baby an egg sac," he said and Rachel laughed.
"Fuck," Santana said suddenly. "You're going to have a baby."
"Yeah, San, we've been talking about that for like two hours," Puck said. "Where have you been?"
"No, I mean you're gonna have a baby." She sat up, her eyes wide. "Like physically. You're gonna get huge! And then you're gonna have to push this eight pound thing out of your…" she trailed off, her face kind of pale at the thought. "Puckerman, you'll be happy to know that any lingering physical attraction I might have had for your wife—totally gone now."
He laughed as Rachel smacked her upside the head. "You know what this means huh?" Rachel asked her.
"That your shit's gonna get stretched out so bad—"she was cut off when Rachel smacked her again.
"No." she glared at the other woman. "It means that you're finally actually going to have to give up your room. We're gonna need a nursery after all."
"It's cool," Santana shrugged. "I'll share."
December 2022 – McKinley High 10 Year Reunion
The reunion was long since over but the Gleeks hadn't really been ready to end the party so Will had suggested they reconvene in the choir room. Mike and Sam had gone out and grabbed a couple of 12-packs plus some wine for the ladies and now it was nearing 2 am.
Puck leaned back in his old seat up on the second level of the risers, lifting the front legs off the ground, and he slowly sipped at his beer and listened to Finn tell everyone the story of how he and Puck got high off their assess and then drove to Carmel to slash the Vocal Adrenaline douches' tires back in sophomore year after they egged Rachel.
He'd heard the story like a hundred times – hell, he'd told the story like two hundred times – but seriously, Finn totally baked and trying to be stealthy will never not be funny. The dude was even clumsier if that was even possible. They hadn't even gone over there to slash their tires, they were just gonna egg their rehearsal space, but Finn had been trying to do some James Bond/Jason Bourne tuck-and-roll shit with his pocket knife held out like a gun and he'd totally slammed into the car, his knife going straight into the tire.
As they watched the tire deflate (which was the most awesome thing they'd ever seen in that way that everything in the world is the most awesome thing you've ever seen when you're high), they looked at each other at the same time and decided that was so much better than their previous plan and dropped the eggs, opting to slash the tires instead. In the long run, the egg thing would have been cheaper but ultimately not as satisfying.
He was laughing as Finn tried to play off his accidental tire puncture as totally planned when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, confused, and stared down at the text message on his screen.
Rachel*: URGENT! I currently find myself marooned in the front hall bathroom and may possibly require assistance as I am almost certain my water just broke.
Puck stared at the screen in shock as he pushed through the Rachel speak trying to get to the heart of the matter. He managed to make out 'water' and 'broke' just as another text came through.
Rachel*: THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I just experienced a rather unpleasant contraction. It would be most appreciated if you would call an ambulance. And tell them to bring drugs. LOTS of drugs.
"Oh, fuck," Puck said, surprised, and in his haste to stand up, he ended up pushing his chair all the way backwards, which caused him to flip and roll down the risers.
"Puck!" Brittany screamed from his side and everyone ran over to make sure he was alright.
"Call a fucking ambulance," Puck told them, trying to untangle himself from the chairs he taken down with him.
"Are you hurt? Did you break something? Is there blood? I'm not good with blood." Brittany asked worriedly.
"It's not for me," Puck managed to say as he pulled himself to his feet.
"Oh God," Finn said standing with Puck's phone in his hand. It had gone flying when he fell backward and Finn had picked it up for him and seen the text. "Rachel's having the baby."
"What?" Santana grabbed the phone and read the texts, her smile widening with each word she read. "She's in labor and still manages to text in complete sentences, and sound so…Rachel."
"I've got 911," Tina said and handed Puck her phone.
"Yes, my wife is labor," Puck said storming out of the choir room. The rest of the Gleeks, for lack of anything better to do (and because seriously, Rachel was in labor) followed him. They found him pacing outside the front hall bathroom and stopped as he practically screamed at the 911 operator. "What do you mean it'll be a few hours? How can it take a few hours to get here? It's two in the morning, how many other emergencies do you have in Lima, Ohio at two in the fucking morning that you can't get here for two hours?"
"Okay, that's not helping." Kurt grabbed the phone from Puck's hands and took over the conversation. Puck looked as if he wanted to go after him but Santana put a hand on his arm.
"Go check on your wife," she told him and it was as if he just remembered Rachel was in the bathroom. In labor.
"Fuck." Puck turned around and slammed through the door to find her crouched in the corner, her head down, her breathing heavy as a contraction wracked her body. He stepped over the large puddle by the sinks and walked over to her, kneeling down in front of her. "Baby?"
"Noah!" Rachel looked up and smiled. She was sweating already. "Is the ambulance coming? Did you tell them to bring the drugs? Please tell me they're bringing the drugs."
"There's a little problem with the ambulance," Puck told her cautiously as Kurt came in the bathroom, the gleeks behind him.
"Okay, so they're snowed in." Kurt said.
"The ambulance?" Rachel panted and Kurt nodded.
"When did it start fucking snowing?" Puck asked.
"There were some light flurries when we went for beers earlier," Mike explained. "But it wasn't too serious."
"Well, it's serious now. We've gotten more than 6 inches in the past few hours and it just keeps coming. The storm came out of nowhere and they weren't really expecting it. They're trying to get the roads plowed but it's taking some time."
"Okay, well if they won't come to us, then we'll go to them," Puck said. "Come on, Rach, we'll go to the car and I'll drive you."
"Puck, what part of 6 inches of snow didn't you understand?" Kurt asked.
"No, I don't want you to drive in the snow." Rachel shook her head frantically. "I'll just wait for the ambulance."
"It could be a few hours," Kurt said.
"Okay, that's ok, I can do this for a few hours." Rachel said her face screwing up in pain. She stuck her hand out and Puck grabbed it and then she squeezed as she breathed tensely.
"Holy fuck, Rach!" Puck yelped in surprise as he dropped to his knees on the ground from the pain. After a minute, she lessened her grip and Puck took his hand back, shaking it frantically.
"See, that wasn't so bad," Rachel smiled.
"Rachel." Sam stepped forward and she turned her attention to him. "How long have you been in labor?"
"My water broke about ten minutes ago," Rachel panted. "When I texted Noah."
"Yeah, but how long have you been in labor?" Sam asked again and Rachel bit her lip.
"What?" Puck looked between Rachel and Sam confused.
"Her contractions are a little under two minutes apart." Sam said. "You've been having them all day, haven't you?"
"Rachel?" Puck turned to his wife.
"Not all day," Rachel shook her head. "They started a little after lunch."
"You've got to be kidding me," Puck leaned up against the wall. "You've been in labor all day and didn't tell me?"
"I thought it was just gas at first. They barely even hurt," Rachel said. "But as the night wore on, they got stronger. I just assumed it was okay because my water hadn't broken yet."
"Rach. When you go into labor, you freakin' tell me." Puck said to her.
"Well, I will take that into account the next time this happens," Rachel said, gritting her teeth as another contraction started. "That is, if I ever let you get close enough to impregnate me again and the likelihood of that is dwindling with every contraction, just so you know."
"Okay," Sam stepped closer into the bathroom. "The ambulance is not going to make it in time. Rachel, I need you to lay down. This baby's coming and it's coming now."
"Now?" Rachel looked up at him. "Like now now?"
"Yeah." Sam smiled softly at her then turned around. "Will, do you think you could round up a few blankets, maybe some pillows?"
"Sure, no problem."
"Also can you get into the nurse's office? I'm going to need some gloves, antiseptic wipes, a blood pressure cuff would be nice and I'd kill for a fetal heart rate monitor but the likelihood of a school nurse having one is way too much. God, I hope the school nurse doesn't need a fetal heart rate monitor—"
"Wait, hold on," Puck stood up and grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him into the hallway and nodding at Santana to take his place with Rachel. "Out, everyone just…fucking out." They backed out, leaving Santana and Rachel alone in the bathroom. "Give her some privacy okay and you," he turned to Sam. "You just stay away from her." Puck moved to go back into the bathroom and Sam grabbed his arm.
"I'm a doctor, Puck. I can help. It's not like I haven't—"
"Don't say it," Puck got right into his face, crowding him. "Don't you dare say it's not like you haven't seen it before because I've been waiting almost ten years for an excuse to hit you again."
"I was going to say that it's not like I haven't delivered a baby before," Sam said calmly. "I have. Quite a lot of them."
Puck sighed and took a step back. "I get that, I do. But it doesn't change the fact that you've barely spoken five words to her since that night. Hell, you've barely made eye contact tonight. Do you know she asked me earlier why you still hated her? So explain to me how I'm supposed to forget all that and just let you go in there when she's scared and in pain? No, I can't—"
"I was an ass," Sam said cutting him off. "I know that. I was an ass in practically every sense of the word. I was also 19 years old, standing there after one of the best nights of my life and the girl that I was pretty sure I had fallen in love with was standing right next to me, screaming to Santana about how sleeping with me was the worst mistake of her life and how she never wanted to do it again ever."
"You were in love with her?" Puck asked him torn between feeling sorry for the guy and wanting to punch him again.
"I didn't really make many friends when I went off to college and then Rachel started e-mailing me and I e-mailed her back and then she started calling and before I knew it, I was talking to her more than anyone who was actually at school with me. That summer I was working up the nerve to ask her how she felt about long distance relationships when one stupid drunken night ruined everything," Sam said. "You got the girl, Puck. You have no idea what it feels like to know the woman you're ass over feet in love with will never feel that way about you. So I ran. I was embarrassed and it was a mistake and if you think that I haven't paid for that mistake by not having Rachel in my life for the past ten years, then you're an idiot." Puck sighed, because he could understand what if felt like to think the woman you loved would never love you.
"Your wife is in labor," Sam continued. "She's going to have this baby here, tonight, without the epidural and it's going to be painful. I'm not sure you understand exactly how painful. She has to literally tear her own body apart to get that child out. Now do you want my help or not?" Puck nodded and took a step back. "Okay," Sam took a deep breath. "So where are we on those supplies?"
"I can get the pillows and blankets," Will said. "But I can't get the other stuff. I don't have my keys."
"Have they changed the locks since we were here?" Puck asked and Will shook his head so he dug in his pockets and pulled out his key chain. "I don't remember which one it is."
"You have a key to the nurse's office?" Will asked him, taking the key chain.
"Sometimes I needed to take naps when she was on her lunch break," Puck shrugged.
Five minutes later, Rachel was propped up on every single pillow from the drama department, a blanket draped over her knees. Santana was on her right and Puck was on her left, both of them were holding one of her hands. The glee club had been banished out into the hallway and were currently doing what they did best; singing, in the hopes that it might calm Rachel down. Sam pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and looked up at her. "Rachel? Look, about what happened—"
"Sam, I heard what you said to Noah earlier, you were being quite loud. And while it's painfully obvious that we need to talk about what happened between us, this is not a conversation I really feel comfortable having when you are about to stick your hands into my birth canal."
Sam laughed as Rachel smiled at him. "I've missed you."
"This is very sweet, really I'm getting a toothache over here, but we're sort of in the middle of having a baby here," Santana reminded them.
"Right," Sam took a deep breath and Rachel wrinkled up her nose in discomfort as he checked to see how dilated she was. "You're having a girl right?" he asked to distract her.
"Caroline," Rachel nodded. "Her name is Caroline."
"That's a very pretty name," Sam said pulling his hand out and smiling at her. "Alright, I think you're ready to push so when your next contraction hits I want you to push as hard as you can, okay?"
It only took three pushes to get Caroline out, which Sam assured Rachel was very, very good for a first time mom. He wrapped her up and dropped her on Rachel's chest for just a second before taking her away to lay her under the stage lamps they'd set up in the corner to warm her as he cleaned her off. "She was beautiful, wasn't she?" Rachel sobbed as Puck pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Wasn't she beautiful?"
"She was perfect," Santana said.
"Dude," Puck looked up at her. "Are you crying?"
"Shut up," Santana wiped at her eyes. "We just had a baby, asshat, of course I'm fucking crying."
"Uh…" Sam paused and they all turned to see him frozen, staring down at the baby.
"What?" Rachel sat up straighter. "What's going on? Is she ok? Is something wrong? Is she missing a toe? I forgot to count her toes."
"No, everything's fine," Sam rushed to assure her. "Ten fingers, ten toes, it's just…you said you were having a girl?"
"Yeah." Puck stood up and walked over to Sam. "Shit," Puck said. "She has a penis. Why does she have a penis?"
"Because she's a he," Sam smiled. "Congratulations, it's a boy."
"A boy?" Rachel squeaked. "But no, that's not right, we're having a girl. The doctor told us we were having a girl."
"It's a common mistake," Sam laughed. "Little boys can be very shy."
"But we bought girl stuff," Rachel said a little hysterically. "Everything we have is girl stuff – girl clothes, girl toys. The nursery is pink! We can't have a boy!"
"But you do," Sam smiled setting the baby on her chest again and all of Rachel's protests died in her throat as the baby blinked then opened up his eyes, staring at her.
"Hey baby," Rachel whispered, laughing even as tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked up at Puck. "It's a boy."
"Yeah, it is," Puck reached out and ran his fingertip down the baby's little nose.
"We don't have a name for a boy." Rachel pointed out. They'd still been stuck on the boy name when the doctor said it was a girl so they just gave up. "He needs a name. When we get to the hospital he needs a name. I don't want him to just be Baby Boy Puckerman."
"Okay," Puck settled in next to her as Sam moved to clean Rachel up. "Do you remember what were leaning towards?"
"Gabriel, I think," Rachel said. "I liked it before but," she tilted her head and looked down at the baby. "Now that I've met him, he doesn't look like a Gabriel."
"He doesn't look like anything right now," Puck pointed out. "Actually he kind of looks like a wrinkly old man." Rachel glared at him. "Fine, so Gabriel's out."
"I still don't understand what's so wrong with Beckett," Santana grunted.
"Besides the fact that I don't want my kid to grow up to be a douche?" Puck said. "It's not Jewish."
They were all quiet, thinking of names, as Sam started singing along with the glee club out in the hallway. "Hey Jude, don't be afraid. You were made to go out and get her," he stopped suddenly and looked up. "What about Jude?"
"What?" Rachel looked over at him.
"Jude," Sam said again. "It's a Jewish name, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is," Rachel nodded, thinking about it.
"My mom used to sing that to me," Sam said. "She didn't really know any lullabies but she loved the Beatles so she would sing it to me to get me to sleep. It's really the only thing I remember about her."
"I like it," Puck said and looked over to Rachel. "What do you think?"
"Jude," Rachel looked down and smiled. "You do kind of look like a Jude."
"Jude Puckerman," Santana said. "I could get used to that."
"Jude Samuel Puckerman," Rachel said looking up at Sam.
"Rach, you don't have to—"
"You delivered my baby in a bathroom in the middle of a snowstorm," Rachel said. "I kind of do have to. More importantly, I want to." Sam smiled. "But only if you promise you'll stick around this time."
Sam nodded, "I promise."
The door squeaked open and Will stuck his head in. "The natives are getting restless out here," he told her. "We were hoping we could—"
"Of course, of course." Rachel sat up straighter as Sam pulled the blanket back over her legs.
Everyone crowded in to the bathroom as Rachel and Puck proudly showed off their son. "Everyone I want you to meet Jude Samuel Puckerman."
"And that brings us to tonight," Santana said to Jude who was finally asleep. "At three in the morning, in the bathroom, once again." She looked to her right and saw Puck and Rachel also fast asleep in the bathtub. They were probably going to hate themselves in the morning but it's not like she could carry them back to their bed. Santana stood up and carried Jude into the nursery, laying him in his crib. She really didn't have the energy to walk the 20 feet to her own apartment and figured if Rachel and Puck weren't going to be using their bed tonight, there was no reason she couldn't use it. That mattress was really like sleeping on a cloud stuffed with angel hair.
She walked through the apartment turning off the lights, locking the doors and windows and she must have made more noise than she thought she did because when she stepped into the bedroom, Puck was laying Rachel down on her side of the bed.
He'd managed to wake her up long enough to change her out of her evening gown and she sighed as her head hit the pillow. Santana moved to leave when Puck rolled his eyes. "Just get in," he said and she smiled brightly climbing in the bed next to Rachel as Puck changed out of his tux, turned off the light and climbed in on Rachel's other side. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against his chest.
"Your story didn't have an ending," Rachel mumbled and Santana looked at her as she opened her eyes slightly.
"What?" Santana asked, confused.
"There was no ending," Rachel said.
"There was no ending because the story's not over yet." Santana pointed out.
"Make one up." Rachel smiled. "Every story needs an ending."
"Fine," Santana yawned. "And they all lived Happily Ever After."