Disclamer:
Obviously I do not own Glee, if I did there would be some serious changes made to the characterizations and pairings! This is an AU. Things are really, really different here, so I ask that you give it a chance and if it doesn't work for you then move along. It isn't always going to be happy or good. This story is for adults only. It starts slow but there will be blood, violence, sex and adult language used.
If anyone has ever seen the show Sons of Anarchy you will see tons of parallels. The characters are not here so it isn't a crossover per se but I took a lot of inspiration from the plot and people of the show. Some of this is also based on my own knowledge and experience; I grew up surrounded by a powerful MC in a rural-ish area of the US. While I recognize and readily admit that there is a shadier, seedier and sometimes deadly side to "outlaw" MCs, I was mostly exposed to the great things that they can bring to a community and their common acts of kindness and charity. I don't want to whitewash this culture and I don't think this story does, but I also don't want to be accused to being sympathetic to a group that many consider a gang and dangerous to society.
I am a ten year veteran of various fandoms however I have always been a reader/lurker/occasional beta. So help me out, read and review. And if anyone is willing to offer up their services as a beta to me that would be fantastic, I could really use the help! All spelling/typing errors are mine… believe me, there are a lot. Sorry.
Lima - 10 Miles
The sign mocked Rachel as she lifted the hood of her 1973 Chevy Nova coupe and coughed as smoke billowed into her face. With a sigh she waived her hand, vainly attempting to peer at the engine and ascertain the latest issue with her beloved but temperamental car.
"Looks like you could use some help," a deep voice rumbled from behind her.
She jumped at the unexpected noise, hitting her head on the raised hood with a yelp.
"Shit! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" the voice muttered while reaching out an arm to steady her.
Rachel looked up at the face of the sexiest voice she had ever heard and was startled by the kindness in his green eyes.
"It's okay, I'm fine. Just a little bump," she whispered, taking in the rest of his tanned, muscular physique. His chiseled face frowned as he watched her absently rub her head.
"Still, I'm sorry if I frightened you." he smirked a bit while saying this. "Do you want me to take a look? I'm a mechanic."
Rachel looked him up and down again before nodding hesitantly and moving out of the way.
"New York plates. Did you drive her straight here?"
She didn't even hear his question as he bent over and started poking around under the hood, grabbing a rag and twisting off the cap. She was too busy studying the back of his cut.[1] The top rocker read "GRIM REAPERS" and the bottom patch said "OHIO" between the two patches was a stylized image of a corpse wearing a cape and hood on a motorcycle, a scythe held menacingly over his head, blood dripping from the blade. To the bottom right of the image was a smaller white patch, rectangular with "MC" in it. The black leather of the sleeveless jacket was worn but obviously cared for. Even though she didn't understand the appeal of motorcycle gangs she took a moment to appreciate the fantastic ass encased in worn jeans and the muscular arms visible under the t-shirt and cut. Her mystery man wore dark, heavy motorcycle boots but she was more drawn to the dark tattoos on his arms.
'Hmm… interesting start in Lima already. Car broke down, biker comes to my rescue… at least I assume he is a biker… The Reapers obviously, and this is Lima,' she mused silently.
Rachel looked around for his bike and saw sun glinting off it where it was parked in the turnoff down the road.
"Ma'am?" the voice broke her out of her reverie.
"Yes, sorry. How's it look?" she asked the smirking man.
"Well your coolant is leaking and the hose looks like it is totally shot. Looks like it needed to be replaced a while ago. Lemme call my buddy to come out with a tow and we can get you into the garage," he said, reaching for his cell phone.
"I have AAA," Rachel hurriedly stated.
"Believe me, we are faster, more reliable and cheaper than whatever garage they will take you to," the man drawled, looking her up and down as he waited for his friend to pick up.
She gave a curt nod at his claim and walked over to the driver's side door, sitting down to grab her purse from the passenger seat.
Rachel was petite but skinny with legs a mile long; wearing what he felt was a criminally short jean skirt and knee-high suede leather boots. A small white tank top gave him a great view of a killer rack. Natural he suspected, exactly a handful. She was all tanned, smooth skin and long dark hair, luscious lips and dark eyes. Damn.
'What a tight little package,' he thought.
"Finn! Hey man, I need you to bring the tow out to Highway 220. Right by the 10 mile marker," he said into his cell. "Naw man, you'll see me. No, it ain't the bike. Early 70's Nova. Yeah, cherry red. Seriously, you'll see me. I'll 'splain when you're here. Cool."
He flipped the phone shut and looked back over at Rachel. "Should be about 15 minutes. I'm Puck, by the way," he said, extending a hand to her.
"Rachel," she replied, shaking his hand hesitantly.
"So you didn't answer my question earlier. Don't worry though, I'm used to distracting women… I'm a stud," Puck said with a cheeky grin towards Rachel and her light blush.
"Oh, sorry, what did you ask?"
"I see you have New York license plates. Are you just passing through? Did you drive straight here? Where did you get this sweet ride?"
"I've been living in Manhattan for about 10 years now but I was born and raised in Lima. I needed to come home to settle some family business but I expect I'll be here for a while. The car was a present to myself on my 21st birthday. I've always loved cars, my daddy liked to collect them so I grew up appreciating them, though I'm not sure he agreed with my taste. He was more of a roadster kind of guy, loved his Astin Martin and the prized 1954 Jag convertible," she explained, a faraway look in her eyes.
"Wait, you're local? I didn't go to school with you and we look about the same age. What'd you say your last name was?"
"I didn't. And I went to St. Elizabeth's over in Carmel. Even though I am Jewish dad felt I would get a better education there. I think daddy just went along with it because there were no boys. Puck, huh? That's an interesting name. From Shakespeare?" she asked, glossing over her own last name for the moment.
"Naw, 's short for Puckerman, my last name. I know your first name, you know my last name… this seems almost even. Though if your dad has an Aston Martin AND a classic Jag I think I can guess that you are a Berry. Never knew they came in hot, female versions."
"My father's made sure that secret was kept close to the vest. Sorry."
"I'm sorry too," he said, leering and looking her up and down once more. "We could have had fun in high school… though I don't think the daddies would have approved. At all. I am sorry, by the way. I know how losing a dad sucks, can't imagine losing 'em both. They were good guys, didn't much care for my kind, but were respectful. We had no beef."
"Thanks, I think."
A tow truck came lumbering up the road alongside them. A tall, lanky guy wearing coveralls and a blue t-shirt jumped out the driver's side. His arms were similarly covered in tattoos, but his face and demeanor were overall more boyish than Puck's.
"Hey man, thanks for coming out," Puck said, giving the tall guy a quick man-hug and doing one of those ridiculous handshakes men are so fond of.
"Anytime, bro," the man she assumed was Finn responded. "What's up?"
"Rachel here is having some radiator issues; we need to get her car and my bike back to the garage. Gimme the chains, we'll get the Nova up on the bed and you can take Rachel with you. I'll tail. You okay riding back into town with this tall drink of douche Rach?" he turned, questioning her.
"Aww, you don't want to give me a ride?" she sarcastically purred, arching an eyebrow and pouting her lips for effect.
"Don't say shit like that baby if you don't mean it," he growled.
She just grinned at him, "Not my fault you're unprepared."
"Finn, get the car back, Rachel's coming with me," Puck ground out. Finn was looking between the two of them with amusement as Puck grabbed her arm and hauled her towards his waiting Harley.
"Sure man, whatever," Finn chuckled and proceeded to hook up the car to the winch system and get it up on the tow's bed.
Puck tossed Rachel his helmet and got on his bike. "You been on a bike before?"
Rachel arched a perfect eyebrow at his smirk and nodded as she adjusted the helmet strap under her chin. "Nothing quite as nice as this though," she added.
"Well get on, we'll meet your car back at the shop."
She swung a leg over and wished briefly that she wasn't wearing such a short skirt. She settled against his back and shivered slightly when her hands rested just under his cut and t-shirt on his toned abdominal muscles.
"I meant what I said earlier darlin', don't start shit you don't intend to finish," he grinned over his shoulder at her before gunning the engine and taking off down the road.
The ride was shorter than Rachel would have liked. She was comfortable and loved the wind in her face and the safety Puck's presence offered. She took in the sights as they moved through downtown Lima, noting the new stores and closures since she was last home several years ago.
All too soon they were pulling up in front of Puckerman-Smith Auto Repair. Puck led the bike into the car park and backed it in to park along a row of other motorcycles before shutting it off and helping Rachel off the back.
"Welcome to Puckerman-Smith," Puck drawled while leaning back against his bike.
Rachel took in everything from the eight bay garage and machine shop to the chain link fence that caged off several vehicles from the main parking area all with "Repossessed" stickers affixed to the windshields. The row of bikes amused her, all were similar in style to Puck's, and just behind the row was another building with a dark exterior and a large mural of The Reaper's logo on the front. Some picnic tables were scattered out front by a large barbeque and some bikers were lounging at them, drinking beers and laughing. Over the door was a sign proclaiming "Grim Reapers – Original Lima Chapter".
Just then Finn's tow lumbered into the drive with her car. "Come on," Puck gestured towards the garage, "lemme get you set up over here."
She glanced around at the other workers, noting many similarities. Most were older than Puck, often bearded and tattooed. She assumed that many of them were the owners of the other bikes out front. Signs around the shop proudly proclaimed their Harley-Davidson allegiance along with the standard signs advertising brands of motor oil and brake pads.
"Prospect!" Puck bellowed after his quick once-over of the shop failed to reveal the man he wanted.
"Yeah man, what's up?" a wiry red head piped up from behind the bike he was working on.
"Take this lovely lady over to the office and get her information. And keep your hands off, I see you lookin' and I don't want to have to tell Sarah her man's thinking of steppin' out…" Puck trailed off at the frightened look on Prospect's face. "That's what I thought. Go!"
Turning to Rachel he sighed, "Children. You've gotta keep your eye on them all the time… plus there is nothing more fun than busting the balls of your sister's boyfriend," he joked. "Go with the prospect, he'll take care of you while Finn and I unload the Nova and take a look at the radiator. You can grab some coffee and hang out in the office. Just avoid my mom; she's on a warpath today."
He guided her towards the prospect with a light hand on the small of her back and watched her as she walked away with him. Puck was pleased to see her glance over her shoulder back at him and offer a shy smile. He winked at her in response before turning to grab a rag and his shop jacket off a peg on the wall.
"Prospect is an interesting name," Rachel said to her companion as she followed him down a small hall.
"It isn't my actual name, it is my status," the red-head replied.
"Status?" she asked with a questioning glance.
"Yeah, in the club. I'm not a patched member yet, I am still just a prospect… it's like being on probation until they decide at the end of the time period if they want me around permanently."
"The club?" Rachel asked, feeling totally clueless.
"Yeah, The Reapers. It is a MC, or motorcycle club. The Lima charter is the mother chapter. I moved here a little more than a year ago and was a hang-around due to my job here at the shop. I told Puck I was interested in joining and he sponsored me as a prospect. I can't wear a full patch or anything but I am recognized as being associated with the club. In a few months I'll be brought up as a full member and they'll take a vote," the prospect explained.
They came into a small office area with two desks and some chairs.
"Hey Ellie, Puck asked me to drop this lady off in here to wait for her car… umm, I'm sorry I didn't get your name," Prospect trailed off looking between Rachel and the older woman seated at one of the desks.
"I bet Puck did," Ellie muttered as she gave Rachel a stern once-over before rolling her eyes and looking back at the paperwork on her desk.
"I'm Rachel," she told him, taking the seat he gestured towards.
"Do you want something to drink Rachel? Coffee or water?" he asked her.
"Coffee would be lovely, but I can get it if you just point me in the right direction."
"No ma'am, that's okay. How would you like it?" Prospect assured her as he moved towards another door in the office.
"Black with two sugars, thank you." Rachel replied.
She relaxed against the chair as he hurried off with her order, closing her eyes as her long drive and the events of the morning finally started to catch up with her.
"So where'd he find you?" Ellie's sharp voice broke her out of her calm reverie.
"I don't understand," Rachel said, looking across the office at her. "What do you mean? I was stranded out on the road on my way into Lima, Puck was nearby and offered me assistance. Finn brought my car back after Puck called him and now here I am."
"Uh huh, damsel in distress thing works well for you I assume. Outfit probably doesn't hurt much either," the older woman drawled.
"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" Rachel asked defensively.
"No darlin' you didn't do anything at all," she smirked. "Just don't expect anything from my idiot son and we'll be just fine."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't get touchy. Puck's my son and I love him dearly but he has the attention span of a two year old and I'm getting really tired of taking the angry calls of his one-night stands the morning after. The ex is bad enough to put up with; I don't need some other self-entitled rich girl giving me a headache too. You girls are all the same, think the bad boy with the motorbike is just what they need to get back at daddy and maybe they can save him in the process, turn him into some kind of pussy. It doesn't work like that sister. Puck's exactly what he is supposed to be and he is never going to change." Ellie raved.
"I see. Well, you'll be pleased to know that I had no intentions of getting involved with him, and any daddy issues I may have had have been cured by their recent deaths, so thank you for that reminder. I think I'll go get some air, does this door lead outside? Good. Tell the prospect I'm sorry, I'll take my coffee later." Rachel huffed before angrily storming out of the office.
Once outside she leaned against the building and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths.
Thinking of her fathers still hurt so much. They had their disagreements over the years but had always been her biggest cheerleaders. Well, until recently. The rift between them only made their deaths harder, she felt tears well up as she realized it would never be healed. She would never have their forgiveness.
Rachel sighed and attempted to shake off that train of thought.
'Puck's mom is a real piece of work,' she mused, 'no wonder he apparently has issues with women.'
"Hey, is everything okay?" Puck's quiet voice washed over her.
Glancing over at him from her spot still against the wall she sighed again. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Somehow I don't believe you," he teased, "come on, tell the Puckerone what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."
"Puckerone? Really?" she laughed.
"Yeah Rach, I'm badass. Therefore I get badass nicknames," he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. "Besides, it got you to smile."
She chuckled and shook her head. "Seriously I'm fine, just needed a bit of air."
"Ahh, so my ma got to you. I warned you she was in a right state today. Why do you think I was ducking work and heading out to the creek? There is only so much a man can take." Puck joked, nudging her shoulder before grabbing her hand and leading her towards a nearby picnic table.
"I should be done with your car in a few hours," he started. "Do you want me to get you a ride somewhere or do you want to hang around?"
"I don't know. I was going to stay at my dad's but honestly… it's hitting me now that they won't be there and I'm not sure I am ready for that yet. Sorry, I know it isn't really your problem… but I kind of came home without a plan and now I'm feeling more than a little lost." Rachel admitted. Puck was basically a stranger but somehow that made it easier to be honest and vulnerable with him.
"Well, like I said, I was trying to escape earlier. How 'bout we leave the car here, Finn and the boys will take care of it, and you and I can go for a ride. Take some time and clear your head a bit." Puck suggested.
"I'm not going to sleep with you," Rachel blurted out.
"Shit babe, getting a little ahead of ourselves aren't we," Puck ground out before softening at Rachel's obvious embarrassment. "What the hell did my mom say to you?"
"Nothing, don't worry about it. I'm just a little on edge and my mouth is getting away from my mind. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything."
"It's okay babe, don't worry about it. I'm sure my mom told you I'm a man-whore so I shouldn't be too surprised. Anyway, I'm not trying to get in your panties. I just think we could both use a bit of a distraction," he said, tilting Rachel's head up with a gentle hand under her chin so he could meet her eyes again.
"Shit," Ellie muttered inside the office, taking in the scene on the picnic table between that girl and her son. She let the blinds fall back into place and started back towards her desk.
Ellianne Puckerman-Smith was many things, but an idiot wasn't one of them. She'd been Noah's mom for 28 years and she had never seen him like this before. It had started a few months ago, the sudden reluctance when around the guys to be his usual, "studly" self. He was quieter, more thoughtful but he wasn't sharing those thoughts with anyone. Usually Finn was his confidant, but Finn was a bit shallow and rightfully caught up with his own issues now that he and Quinn were starting a family.
Her son had always been arrogant and outgoing, often to the point of being rude. His reputation was well known in town and she's pretty sure he's earned both the scorn from the high number of women he has slept with and the praise of his prowess between the sheets. As his mother she was both appalled and amused, generally leaning towards amused. Most of these guys were her sons in some way so she learned to laugh at all this ridiculousness years ago.
'He's more like his father every day,' she mused quietly.
Her Noah was smart. You wouldn't know it from his grades in high school or his speech, but he was intelligent and quick. She knew that's why things hadn't worked out with Janelle, his first wife. Janelle had low expectations of him and therefore Puck saw no need to do more than barely meet those. He claimed to like things simple and easy but Ellie knew what he really needed was a challenge, someone to make him think and make him be a better man.
'Doubt that little tart would fit the bill,' she thought spitefully. In the back of her mind, however, she was grudgingly impressed with the young girl who stood up to her and then walked away.
"Hey El," her husband John said, coming into the room with Jimmy and Caleb, two of his oldest friends and fellow club members.
"Hi baby," she replied, giving him a quick peck on his cheek as he settled on the corner of her desk. The other guys threw themselves into the other chairs in the room.
"Everything okay Ellie?" Caleb asked, noting her pensiveness.
"Yeah, just contemplating Noah's latest find."
"Hmm, yeah. Finn says her name is Rachel and she is real smart, not Puck's usual type. Seems she was giving to him just as good as she got," Jimmy told her.
"Rachel, huh?" John snorted. "I stopped learning the names of Puck's conquests years ago. How long are we thinking this one will last?" he groused, looking at Ellie in amusement of his step-son's antics.
"Yeah, I don't know…" Ellie trailed off, looking out the window again in time to see Noah peeling out of the lot, Rachel once more on the back of his bike.
Puck headed north out of town for a while before pulling off the main road and onto an access road towards the river. Eventually they came to a field and he cut the engine, helping Rachel off the back once again. Twining their fingers together he led her towards the river, to a spot under the tree where two chairs sat.
"I come out here a lot," he mumbled. "Brought the chairs up here a while ago, seemed easier to just leave something permanent."
Rachel sat down in the one closest to the massive tree trunk and looked out over the water, drawing her legs up to her chest.
"What's your name?" she asked him quietly.
"Puck," he responded with an ironic grin.
"Seriously."
"Noah."
"I like that name," she whispered. "Noah."
"Tell me about yourself Rachel," he asked her, settling back into his chair.
"What's there to know? I'm Rachel Berry, I grew up in Lima, I went to private school and was a perfect little girl for her daddies and then I went to the big city for college. I made a name for myself on stage and come home every night to an empty apartment and a life that got even emptier two days ago when my father decided he was okay to drive after their dinner party in Akron and wrapped their BMW around a telephone pole. Sorry. I'm a little angsty," she smiled before breaking down into sobs that wracked her small frame.
Puck was at her side in a heartbeat, scooping her up from the chair before settling himself down under her, strong arms around her as he rocked her back and forth, whispering comforting words in her ear.
When her crying subsided and her breathing returned to normal she looked up at him with a sheepish smile. "I wasn't joking, I'm a little angsty right now… and that more than your reputation is why you won't be getting in my panties," she joked with a wink.
"Har har Rachel Berry. We'll just see about that," he leered back down at her, all the while thinking that hitting on someone so obviously broken probably wasn't the best idea.
'Fuck man, when did you get a conscience? Usually you like 'em nice and vulnerable…' he mentally kicked himself.
She settled back against his chest, tucking her head under his chin and sighed again. "Tell me about yourself Noah," she asked with a teasing lit to her voice.
Puck chuckled a bit before going quiet and looking out at the river. "What's there to tell? I was born here in Lima and I'll probably die here too. My dad died when I was a kid, I was raised by my mom and my step-dad, became a mechanic at the family business right out of high school and here I am, 10 years later…" he said with a resigned tone to his voice.
"And the club…" Rachel prodded.
"Ahh yes, I was wondering how long it would be until that came up… usually it is the first thing girls ask about. The club is my family. My dad and John, my step-dad and some of their war buddies started it in the seventies. It's always been a way of life for me. I love bikes and I love the guys, I don't remember a time when I wasn't a Reaper."
"So you're like their royalty?" she questioned.
Puck snorted a bit and looked down at her before seeing the honest interest in her expression. "Yeah, I guess you could put it like that. The older guys in the club were all best friends with my dad and I think I remind them of him sometimes. Some of their kids are my buddies and some of the others are guys we've picked up along the way or are friends of mine that have joined up. It really is like a big, crazy family. We'd do anything for each other."
"No girls in the club?"
"It depends on what you mean. Girls that ride with us or vote in the meetings and are patched in? No. But many of the guys have old ladies, like wives or girlfriends that are more than just the sluts that usually gather around MCs. They get a certain amount of power and say within the club depending on the status of their old man I guess. Like my mom. Sometimes I'm pretty sure she's the brains behind everything," Puck replied while playing with a piece of Rachel's hair.
Rachel laughed at that thought, "yeah, I can see that. Your mom is…" she trailed off.
"Frightening? Infuriating? A total bitch? Believe me, I have heard them all before," Puck laughed.
"No. I was going to say she is protective. It's probably a good thing, though she could probably be less abrasive about it."
Just then Puck's cell phone started ringing.
"Yeah bro, what's up?" he asked when he saw Finn's number on the screen.
"What the fuck do you mean? Chang and Rutherford are where? Doing WHAT? Yeah, okay. I'll be there in a few, I've got to bring Rachel back to the shop. Okay. Just… don't do anything stupid okay? Quinn'll kill me. Grab my glock and we'll go have a chat with that fucker."
Puck sighed and snapped the phone shut. Rachel had already moved off his lap and was stretching out her legs.
"Sorry to cut this short babe, but it seems that I have some club business to deal with. Lemme take you back to the garage."
Just as he said this a pickup truck came barreling down the dirt road towards their tree. Puck looked towards the truck and swore under his breath.
"Rachel, I'm really sorry to have to do this, but hide!"
[1] Cuts are jackets, usually more like vests or sleeveless coats, either leather or denim that MC members have their patches sewn on to. On the back of a cut if you are a full member there will usually be four patches, your "colours", the top and bottom are called rockers. They name the club you are a member of and it's location. Then you have the logo patch and the MC patch. Cuts may have many other patches, some of which just denote your status in a club (if you hold an office or have received a special commendation). In real MCs, like the Hells Angels, some of these tell of things you may have done for the club. There are also apocryphal and/or myth patches that some say members of MCs wear that give information such as degrading acts they have done to women, or the fact that they have killed a cop.
