Well, here's my own little fix-it for I Do (4x14). It's Quick and-for once-it's not an angst mountain. It's nice to go back and remember that I can occasionally do silly, happy fics. It'll make you guys love me again before I throw angst back in your faces.

As always, reviews are love. Even if it's something short.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Glee doesn't belong to me. If it did, it would be a hell of a lot different.

Oops! We Did It Again
One-shot

They'd used a condom this time.

They'd used a freaking condom.

That didn't change anything, though. Her period was still three weeks late and she was still waiting for the timer to go off so she could look at the test and see if she was going to be losing her abs again.

Maybe she just needed to stop having sex with Puck, she thought as she stared down at the little happy face on the test. Pregnant. Again. She definitely needed to stop having sex with Puck. Two times. Two babies.

Three babies.

Twins.

She was going to kill him.

It wasn't like Puck had planned for this. He'd seriously started using condoms and all that shit. Yeah, the sex was a bit less satisfying with latex between them, but he wasn't ready to create and lose another baby like he'd lost Beth. Like they'd both lost Beth.

Then, Quinn texted him a picture of the positive pregnancy test.

Memories of the wedding that wasn't came back. Quinn mentioning some drunken thing with Santana that he kind of wished was on video. Them falling into bed when they said they were just gonna watch a movie.

He made Finn and Jake help him pack up his shit and they went on a road trip to New Haven so he could move his shit into Quinn's apartment. She smacked him and told him never again. The assholes laughed.

There wasn't a manly way to say it. The doctor pointed at the screen, said it was twins, and he hit the fucking floor. Quinn poured a water bottle on him and he drove them home looking like he'd pissed his pants.

Thought about the next few months—plus eighteen years—and wondered if he actually had.

Santana laughed when she found out. Said that wouldn't have happened with chicks.

Quinn threw a book at her.

It kind of made the remote she threw at him worth it.

He really had to remember that Quinn liked throwing things when she was pregnant. Especially as the twins made her belly even bigger than Beth ever had and she started having issues with the whole moving thing.

And the fucking mood swings.

"Jesus… I'm sorry about the stretch marks, okay?!"

He really need to go out and buy more of that lotion for her. Maybe an entire case.

And better condoms.

Definitely better condoms.

She threw a hair dryer at him when she was six months along.

A fucking hair dryer.

He took six stitches to the side of his head and sat with the doctor while she sobbed out something about crazy baby hormones and why didn't you duck, you idiot. The doc gave him a prescription for something that was probably a little stronger than he actually needed, but he figured the guy knew what he was going through.

He learned to duck after that and Quinn stopped throwing anything bigger than a baseball.

He made her stop throwing those when one sailed right into his nuts and he was pretty sure he lost the ability to ever knock her up again.

By the seventh month, she had this thing where she'd just burst into tears. Sometimes, she'd let him hold her. Others, she'd scream at him until he went away. When she did that, he just made her some hot chocolate and waited until she'd calmed down.

"I'm sorry I'm crazy."

"It's fine."

"You're supposed to say I'm not crazy, Puck!"

And there went the tears again.

Halfway through her eighth month and her water broke all over her chair in her Shakespearian Literature class. He got a text that sent him flying out of the apartment with the timer still ticking away at the test he'd been taking for Criminology.

The girls were born a tiring twenty hours later.

Hours of pushing with no results and contractions that went freakishly fucking slow for a second birth, but they did it. Quinn was holding onto one of his hands as she pushed. His other hand was being held by a nurse and wrapped until they could get him to go for an x-ray.

Abigail Fabray-Puckerman was born first, screaming and healthy. He was calling her Abs seconds after she came out.

Hannah's birth was more quiet. Her skin a little too pale and not so much as a whimper. It took them a minute before she finally responded and even he felt like crying.

Two healthy baby girls. Ten fingers. Ten toes.

The fact that they were identical scared the ever-loving crap out of him and he was sure he'd fuck up. Call Hannah Abs or call Abs Hannah.

He might have had a little panic attack when the nurse pulled him away to finally x-ray his hand, but he didn't plan on telling Quinn that.

All he planned on telling her was that she'd actually broken two of his fingers.

He was never getting her pregnant again.

Even if they did make really cute kids.

When the girls started kindergarten, Quinn got pregnant again.

This time, it was triplets and Puck bought a lock for the guest room door so he could hide.

He seriously started to wonder if they were marking pregnancy numbers with how many kids Quinn was carrying.

He wasn't sure he could endure a fourth pregnancy.

The End