Disclaimer: Ownership is neither claimed nor implied.
A/N: Everyone loves someone in a uniform...
Puck watched with disgust as she flirted with the fireman. He sighed and huffed, turning away and turning back. He could feel his temper rising, jealousy roiling in his stomach, tying it up in knots. Anything in a fucking uniform. "Yeah, great Quinn," he shouted, his arms flying up in the air. "Let's let the fucking house burn down while you get his fucking number," he growled.
"Excuse me?" Quinn's icy voice dripped venom. "Who was the one who decided to light a barbecue in the sun room?" she asked. "It wasn't me, was it?" she demanded. "No it was you, you jerk," she shouted, anger taking over her. "It's raining and I want to grill steaks," she mimicked. "Stupid idiot," she hissed. She turned back to the fireman. "I'm so sorry," she apologised sweetly, pouring the sugar on even more just to piss Puck off. "I can't believe I behaved like that, fighting in the street. My mother would be so ashamed," she said with a blush.
"The fire's out now," a second fire fighter informed Puck, taking his helmet off and coming to talk with him. "There's some structural damage to the sun room, but the rest of the house is unaffected. You'll need to go through your insurance company," he informed Puck. "And you should get those hands looked at," he advised, seeing the blisters and welts on Pucks fingers.
"My wife will take me to the emergency room," Puck sighed. "As soon as she stops chatting up your man there," he grumbled under his breath, glancing back to where Quinn stood with the youngest of the fire crew who had turned out to save their home from certain destruction.
"You take care of yourself now," the fire fighter advised Puck. "And remember, barbecues are for outdoor cooking, not indoor. If you want to cook indoors, use the stove," he added with a grin.
"Ha, ha, ha, yeah," Puck answered, accepting the ribbing he was getting from these guys. Heroes every one of them, risking their lives to save idiots like him. "Wouldn't have guessed that one, numbnuts," he mumbled to himself without moving his lips, keeping his smile in place as he waved the fire fighters off.
"Ok, let's go," Quinn grumbled at Puck, frowning at him. "What made you think trying to pick up the grill when it was already burning, was anything like a good idea?" she asked, giving him yet another disgusted look.
"I was trying to save the house," Puck explained with exaggerated patience, talking to her like she was five.
"Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot," Quinn shot back at Puck. "Do you want to get those hands looked at?" she demanded.
"Yes," Puck sighed, heading towards the car. Quinn followed him, still silently calling him every name she'd ever heard in her life.
The second that Quinn gave Puck's name at the desk in the emergency room a young doctor was by her side.
"Is everything ok Nana? Where's Gramps?" he asked, looking round worriedly.
"He's over there, Noah," Quinn smiled at her grandson. "He burnt his hands, the stupid old man," she explained in exasperation. "For God's sake, don't tell your mother about this, she's been trying to put us in sheltered housing for years," she added. Quinn sighed as Puck openly flirted with the pretty young nurse who had been tasked with getting the elderly man to a cubical.
"Too late, Mom," another voice said behind Quinn. "What happened this time," Beth asked, adjusting the stethoscope around her neck .