AN: From the LJ drabble meme and a prompt by inspire16. Slightly cracky ;)
It's a normal Tuesday at William McKinley for Quinn, Santana and Brittany. Obligatory evil bitch trio saunter through the hallway? Check. Cheerio practice with Sue Sylvester shouting in their ears about surviving in the jungles of Myanmar with just a Q-tip? Check. Taco Tuesday at the cafeteria while terrorizing freshmen? Check. Everything is going swimmingly until they come upon something truly disturbing before Glee practice.
Kurt is talking to Amber Christie, an up-and-coming sophomore Cheerio, which wouldn't be weird in and of itself if it weren't for what he was saying. "…so yes, Puck and Rachel will be making an appearance at your 'My Parents are in Effing Cancun' party", complete with finger quotes, "but only on the assurance that no members of the press will be there. This, of course, means Jacob ben-Israel."
Amber eagerly nods her head and . "Oh definitely! Loser won't even make the guest list." The petite redhead actually jumps up and down. "OMG I can't believe Puckleberry will be coming to my party! It's like…OMG!"
It's magnificent how the disdain practically drips off Kurt. "Yes, well, I'm sure it will be quite the event," he says with a tight smile. Amber claps her hands and practically skips away in excitement. Kurt rolls his eyes and smoothes away non-existent wrinkles on his electric blue Marc Jacobs cape. The three Cheerios who've eavesdropped on the conversation are goggle-eyed (well, two are; Brittany's just staring at a strand of her hair). What just happened? And what the hell was a Puckleberry? Quinn is about to ask Kurt when he is accosted by said (creepy) member of the press.
"Kurt Hummel, there have been reports that Puckleberry have been on the outs since last weekend," Jewfro asks excitedly, waving a tape recorder in Kurt's face. "What is your official position?"
Kurt is all business. "Noah Puckerman and Rachel Berry's relationship is as strong as ever, despite reports to the contrary. I believe the incident you're referring to is the altercation between Puck and Simon Anderson. Rest assured, while the physicality of his actions were initially frowned upon, Rachel soon understood the reasoning behind his actions and was appropriately grateful. I would thank you for the interest but other than that, we have no further comments."
Jewfro looks like he's about to come back with some follow-up questions but Quinn has decided she's had enough. With a practiced glare from her, the boy with the unfortunate hair gulps audibly and scurries off, probably back under the rock he lived.
Santana beats her to the punch. "Okay, Hotpants, what is this fuckery?"
With a huff, he tucks an wayward piece of hair. "I'm the PR manager for P and R," he replies matter-of-factly.
"Since when?" Quinn asks acidly.
"Since PR had PR to manage."
A long pause before Brittany blinks. "I think my brain blew up."
Yeah, she wasn't going to go near that with a ten-foot pole. Thankfully, before they actually had to respond to that little nugget of wisdom, the couple in question appear – Rachel, in all her argyle-wearing glory, hand-in-hand with a very resigned looking Puck.
"Kurt! Oh hello, Quinn, Santana, Brittany," she exclaims, taking time to greet the three Cheerios. "Kurt, Noah and I have decided that we will NOT be going to the mall on Saturday and will instead spend the day to ourselves."
"Hmm, that presents a problem for this weekend's appearances," Kurt murmurs, quickly drawing up his calendar on his bedazzled Blackberry.
"I don't even fucking know why we have to consult Hummel for everything," Puck grumbles, tugging Rachel closer.
Rachel pats the arm wrapped around her waist. "Noah, think of it as rehearsal for our inevitable future as a Hollywood power couple." She beams up at him and he smiles back automatically. God, they were so nauseatingly cute. Together for all of the summer and this last four months of senior year, it still surprised everyone that this crazy little pairing worked so well. Made sense, Quinn supposed. After all, they were both a little touched in the head anyway.
Kurt jumps in the conversation. "Look at the history of WMHS so-called golden couples. Finn and Quinn? Well, we all know how that turned out. Puck and Mercedes? I'm not even going there. Finn and Rachel? Minor nuclear implosion. Sam and Quinn? Pshaw, lacks the appropriate marketing - no offense, darling," and here he tilts his perfectly coiffed head at Quinn, "Bottom line - good public relations is the backbone of any good high school relationship."
"Riiiiiiight," Puck drawls, eyebrow way, way up.
"Let me put it this way, you uncouth yet magnificent specimen of manhood – who else is going to put a positive spin on the whole kinky business of you dressing up as the Phantom of the Opera?"
The 'uncouth, etcetera, etcetera' whirled around to face his girlfriend. "What the fuck, Rach? I thought that was just between the two of us," he asks in an aggrieved whisper.
Kurt lets out a patronizing little laugh. "Oh honey, you have a lot to learn about being a public figure." He pats Puck's cheek fondly before pinching it like he was a five year old boy. "Remember, we have a press conference about homecoming at 3!" With a last wave, he saunters off into the proverbial sunset, leaving a shocked Puck with a hand to his cheek and the girls trying to hold in laughter.
"Baby, if he does that again, I swear Imma break his hand," Puck growls.
Rachel just chuckles, presses a kiss to the offended area, before tugging him towards study hall. "Come on, Noah, our adoring public awaits."
With a sigh, he salutes the three left behind before he lets Rachel drag him off. "Ladies."
By the time they are out of earshot, Sam comes around the corner and drapes an arm around Quinn's shoulders. "Hey, babe," he whispers with a kiss to her temple. Quinn responds distractedly and Santana looks in interest at the head Cheerio.
"What are you doing, Q?" she asks when Quinn pulls out her phone and scrolls through the contacts.
"I'm calling Kurt." At Santana's look of surprise, she gets defensive. "What? I'm not going to let Puckleberry corner the market!"
Santana's reply is a short guffaw. "So what does that make you guys? Squinn?"
"Oh!" Brittany exclaims and Quinn, Sam and Santana all turn expectantly to her.
"I like squid."