Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Puck, Quinn, or little Drizzle Fabray-Puckerman.
Drizzle?
"No, Puck."
"Why the hell not?"
I am currently arguing with my boyfriend about baby names. Our kid (girl, specifically) is coming in about three weeks and my pregnancy hormones are making me a little insane. He refuses to come up with any name that remotely suits a child and I'm getting pissed off.
"Because, Puck, we are not naming our baby Drizzle."
"Quinn. Seriously. Finn will kick the crap out of me if we don't."
Ugh. "I don't give a shit. Drizzle should not get considered a legal name. It's a word, Puck. And you're sounding too much like Finn," I cleverly retorted.
"I know, baby, but Finn's already pissed enough at us."
I sighed. He can be such an egghead sometimes. "Noah Puckerman. Listen to me. Finn is not going to give a damn that we didn't name the baby Drizzle. He will actually be mad if we do, because it was his idea and I didn't agree to it."
Puck finally gave in. "You know what, baby, you're right. This is our fucking kid, not his."
"Exactly," I whispered, relieved that he finally came to his senses. Then I had an idea. "What about Leanne?"
"Perfect. But..." he raised his eyebrows and walked towards me, snaking is arm around my waist and pulling me in for a hug. I can't help but be concerned when get gets that glint in his eye. "Little Leanne Fabray-Puckerman here needs a nickname."
I breathed deeply and buried my face in his chest. This is going to be a long day.