A/N: I wrote this a few days ago while watching the Coca Cola 600 with my Dad, and didn't get around to publishing it till now…Not to happy with it, but hopefully you like it!
Rachel Berry-Puckerman, leading lady of both Spring Awakening and Noah, walked through the door after a tiring day filled of when-are-finally-going-to-give-me-Jewish-grandbabies talks from Sara, her mother in law. Not exactly the way she wanted to spend her Sunday afternoon and early evening. Rachel dropped her purse by the door, and was about to call out to her husband, when she heard shouts coming from the family room where their flat screen lived.
Her breath caught in her throat, and immediately fearing the worst, Rachel fumbled for the baseball bat always kept beside the door due to her husband's laziness, and grasped the barrel of the bat, before palming the handle. She tiptoed as slowly and quietly as she could in three and one half inch heels across the tile flooring of their kitchen. Rachel pressed her shoulders against the wall and peered around the corner.
She let out a deep sigh of relief she didn't know she held in her lungs, when she saw that the alleged perpetrator was only her husband and a few of their old Glee members. Rachel smirked mischievously, no doubt Noah was rubbing off on her, when she noticed that they had not yet noticed her. She crept behind her unsuspecting husband, and was about to fake hitting him in the face.
As Rachel raised the bat over her head, she heard Noah speak calmly, "Hey babe, how was a day with the Devil's offspring?"
She huffed loudly at both her misguided attempt at a prank and Noah's respect for his mother, "If you consider being badgered incessantly about grandchildren all day, then yes, it went quite well."
"Hey Rach," Noah's best friend and Rachel's favorite of his friends, Finn Hudson said cheerfully.
"Hello Finn! I suppose your demeanor is favorable this postmeridian?" He gave her a confused look, and shook his head up and down a few times."Wonderful!"
Former New Directions members Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford glanced back at Rachel nervously, before slowly sliding down in their spots on the leather couch, hoping to pass by unnoticed and avoid the interrogation. "Oh, Mike and Matt! My apologies for not acknowledging your presence earlier! How are your better halves Tina and Mercedes?"
Mike and Matt both mumbled a few "fine, yeah good", before a slightly awkward silence enveloped the room as the men turned their attention back to the 59" flat screen. Puck was about to yell out awkward silence*, when his wife spoke.
"Noah, what is this monotonic program currently occupying my television?""
"Babe, it's NASCAR." He answered barely tearing his eyes away from the screen to see his spouse's face. When a look of confusion came over her face, he sighed deeply. "Racing? Daytona? Indianapolis? Dale Earnhardt, Tony Stewart, Kurt Busch, Jimmy Edwards, any of 'em? Damn."
Rachel bit her lip in confusion and shook her head at each of his questions. "Noah, as you may recall, I was raised in a competitive, developmental environment, where the only pop culture references I was subjected to were for the prosperity of a cultivated mind, spirit, and work ethic. This nonsense was not considered beneficial to my development to a successful and auspicious young woman." He stared at her blankly before continuing with his explanation. "Alright babe, here is the main idea, these cars? They all are on different teams racing against each other around the track. This race here is the Coca-Cola 600**. That means that they are racing for 600 laps."
"Oh, that sounds, uh, invigorating," She responded brightly after a brief hesitation. Puck arched a questioning eyebrow, then scooted closer towards Finn so that Rachel could sit next to him. After a few minutes of "race talk" between the men, Rachel soon became bored. All the cars did was drive around the track.
"Noah! This is nonsensical! How about we change the channel? Oooo! I know the Sound of Music is playing on ABC! I absolutely adore that musical! Of course, the movie is not as-"
All of the men lounging on the couch turned to her with horrified expressions. After a long moment, Puck responded "No. Hell no. Not going to happen ever. Ever."
"But Noah, remember when we went to EJ Thomas Hall in Akron, and we saw that marvelous rendition of the Sound of Music, and remember Noah when you cried at the part where Maria and the Von Trapps-"
Puck clamped a hand over her mouth. "Okay, enough sharing time for you, young lady." He turned to Finn, "Does anyone have a muzzle?"
Rachel pried the hand off of her mouth. "I am incredibly sorry Noah, I did not mean to embarrass you in front of your friends."
"Yeah Noah, she didn't mean to embarrass you," Mike mimicked Rachel.
"There is no need to make fun of anyone. I'm sure Tina would NOT be pleased to hear of your behavior this evening." Mike looked guiltily at his shoes before muttering a 'sorry Puck.' "Back to my original point, how on Earth do you find this mindless programming entertaining?"
Puck looked at her in disbelief. "Babe, sometimes they crash." Rachel cocked her head to the side and looked at him. As if on cue, a huge group of cars smashed into each other***.
A chorus of "Ooo, that's gotta hurt"s and "Now THAT will hurt in the morning"s echoed through the cozy living room. Rachel stared slack jawed at the scene on the screen before her.
She couldn't believe that her Noah, the man who started crying during 27 Dresses or whatever romantic movie they watch for that matter, would enjoy watching the destruction and endangerment of real people, not characters. As several ambulances pulled onto the track, and the pit crews pulled their drivers out of the mangled metal, Rachel felt tears begin to well up in her chocolate brown eyes.
One driver in particular was unconscious and hurt badly. All of the men, including her Noah, began high fiving each other and cheering. The high fives were the straw that broke the camel's back, the crack in the dam that unleashed the flood of tears. Rachel felt tears running down her cheeks.
Embarrassed, She kicked her heels off and ran from the room, sobbing all the way. Puck stared awkwardly after her, unsure whether to follow her or give her some space. Luckily, Matt, Mike and Finn took the hint and got up to go. After a few handshakes from that beer commercial (bro hug double back tap combo anybody?), they left with a few hundred laps still to go.
Sighing, Puck walked toward the bedroom to go comfort his wife. He found her curled up in a ball on their bed. He soundlessly pulled her into his arms. A few minutes passed before the great sobs that wracked her tiny frame calmed, and Puck finally, tentatively spoke, "Babe? What's wrong? Are you upset about the crash or what?"
Rachel shook her head violently. "No, no I-it's not-t that. I-I just didn't-t know what hap-pened to my-my Noah. The one t-that cried during The N-notebook, not the P-puck that high fived others w-when a man's life was in the b-balance."
"Rach, truthfully, none of us like it. We cheer and fist bump because it's the manly think to do."
"But how do you know that they're not really hurt?" Rachel asked. He looked up at her with large chocolate doe eyes.
"That's the thing, you don't. Quite a few years ago, there was a crash. It wasn't a bad blow you're min crash, but it was enough. Heading into turn four, a few cars hit the wall. It was the last lap in the Daytona, and everyone was cheering for the winner, but in the back of their minds they were worried for the drivers in the small wreck.
"It was discovered a few hours after the event, that one driver was killed when his car slammed into the wall. That's the thing, Rach, you really don't know, so you high five your buddies, but in the back of your mind, you're praying."
She gazed up her husband and wrapped her arms around his chest as fresh, happy tears flowed from her eyes. "Let's make a deal, alright, whenever a wreck happens at a race, no matter where I am or what I'm doing, I'll stop and pray for the drivers, if you please never mention me crying in an of those movies ever again. Deal?"
Rachel giggled slightly at the last part, but shook his outstretched hand. "Deal." After a few moments she added, "We could go watch the rest of the race if you want." It was more of a question than a statement.
"Nah, I'm had enough racing drama for one day. We might still be able to catch the end of The Sound of Music though…"
Rachel thought to herself as she snuggled with her husband on the couch, 'High fiving and cheering might make him seem like a man with his buddies, but he's an even bigger man in my eyes when he watches musicals with me.'
A/N2: And…Bleck. Not happy with this one. At all. I haven't posted anything in awhile, and really wanted to finish one of the four stories I've started to, yeah.
Sources:
-for Rachel's big words
-for info on Dale Earnhardt
*For those of you who are, fortunately, not acquainted with the awkward silence thing, super, super annoying guys, most of course in my home room, always say that on every awkward silence, a gay baby is born. So, of course, very frequently, some guys that think that they should be stand up comedians always yell it out.
**I used this race because it was the one happening when I originally wrote it.
***This crash did not actually happen in real life…I just made it up for the sake of the story.
****This is when Dale Earnhardt died after slamming into a wall at Daytona a few years back…I had to look up the deets online…If you want more info, Google it!
