Disclaimer: Ownership is neither claimed nor implied.
A/N: Season 1 part three…
Week Twenty-five - Hiccups? Have you felt your baby get them yet? Do you know what causes them? Baby is now beginning to practice breathing. He is inhaling and exhaling the amniotic fluid. Sometimes, he may swallow too much, giving himself the hiccups! He is about 13.5 inches long, and weighs about a pound and a quarter.
Quinn's recovery was swift once the antibiotics had a chance to work through her system. Judy was a regular, if secret, visitor to Quinn's bedside, she had missed her daughter so much. Eventually Quinn left the hospital and was ready to return to school, to normal life, she hoped her mom would still be a part of it.
"Quick, quick, come here," Quinn yelled from the top of the stairs. Puck raced up, whisk in hand, his heart beating with the speed of an express train.
"What? What's up? Are you ok? Is it the baby?" he demanded the second he reached Quinn.
"Feel this," Quinn said excitedly, "feel," she repeated, placing Puck's hand on her jumping stomach. "She's got hiccups," Quinn sighed, her face an absolute vision of joy and contentment.
Puck dropped to his knees in front of Quinn, his hands right in front of his eyes, moulding her stomach. With every little jump of Quinn's stomach, Puck's smile got wider and wider. "Wow, that is so cool. You're amazing baby girl," he whispered to the bump.
"What are you doing?" Gabby asked suspiciously as she came out of her room. She walked towards the pair at the top of the stairs, they both looked at her. "Is the baby doing something cool?" she asked, grinning at the dopey look on her brother's face.
"She's got hiccups, feel," Puck explained, moving out of the way so Gabby could put her hands on Quinn's stomach.
"That's just plain weird," Gabby cried as she felt the regular movements. "Does it feel weird from the inside?" she asked Quinn.
"A little bit," Quinn replied, laying her hand on the upper part of her bump. "What's for breakfast?" she asked Puck, realising she'd torn him away from the vital task.
"Spanish omelette," Puck said, turning and starting back down the stairs. "Ten minutes guys, they'll be on the table, don't let them go cold," he advised. "Mom?" he called and waited for a response. "Breakfast."
Quinn quickly followed Puck down and was sat at the kitchen table before the first omelette hit the nicely warmed plate. "Mmmmm," she sighed with the first mouthful. "You are so good at this," she praised. "Did Roberto let you actually make anything last night?" she asked. Puck had found himself a kitchen job at one of the local restaurants in downtown Lima. It was a high end establishment and he worked two nights in the week then on Saturdays he started at midday finishing around one in the morning, Sundays were more geared up for the after church crowd so he started earlier and finished earlier. The hours were long and the work was tiring, but he was learning so much.
"No, but I got to do all the prep and then clean up after them," Puck answered with cheerful sarcasm. "I know I've got to put in the hours, learn the ropes and stuff, proper kitchen protocol, but one day someone will be shouting 'yes chef' to me," he sighed.
Quinn gave Puck a sympathetic pout and sad eyes. "Maybe once your nana finds the right premises and actually opens her own place, maybe you'll be able to do more," she suggested.
Puck shook his head, a little put out that Quinn would even suggest that he'd pull rank like that. "No, I've still got to work my way up, earn the respect, that's the nature of the business. I've got to finish school and go to college first too, there's a lot to learn about a professional kitchen, it's not just throwing stuff together to make something that tastes good, there's a lot more stuff involved," he explained. "There's costing for one thing, portion size, seasonal availability, food miles, I mean, you want the freshest produce you can get don't you?" he asked. "You don't want to buy carrots from…New England when you can get them down the road fresh from the farmer, right?"
"I never thought of that," Quinn replied, surprised that Puck was so passionate about it. "What about the menu for your nana's place, have you made any decisions about that yet?" she asked as she savoured her omelette. "This ought to be on the menu," she sighed, "It's delicious."
"It's going to be traditionally Kosher," Puck reminded Quinn, "so it'll be lots of dishes that will vary according to the time of year, the celebration and so on," he explained. "But we ought to have at least one signature dish. We should really have a function room too. We could hold Bar and Bat Mitzvahs, weddings, birthday celebrations, we could supply the catering for those," he listed, he'd thought a lot about it since his nana first told him her idea.
"You're really into this, aren't you?" Quinn asked, impressed with his enthusiasm. Puck grinned and nodded.
"I've been checking out the best schools, you know, culinary schools, for when I graduate," he said, a touch embarrassed. "The Art Institute of Cincinnati seems to be the best in Ohio," he said, shrugging.
"Not that you've given it much thought," Quinn teased as she put her plate in the dishwasher. Puck gave her a huge smile back.
Quinn sat with the rest of the Glee kids at lunchtime. Puck was nowhere to be seen, he'd said he would be busy but Quinn hadn't actually thought he'd miss a meal. She frowned to herself as she wondered where he was.
"Has anyone seen Puck?" Quinn asked the crowd at large. There were a few murmurings but no one answered directly. Quinn looked around the cafeteria to see if she could identify if anyone else was conspicuously absent, any of the hot girls anyway. No, they all seemed to be present and…correct…except Santana. Where was Santana? "He better not be with her," Quinn thought, her voice inside her head sounded harsh, mean, sounded like the old Quinn, sounded like the Quinn who didn't know what it was to struggle against adversity, didn't know what it was to be unpopular, be invisible. And Quinn didn't like it, she wasn't that person anymore.
"Happy birthday to you," Puck's voice came from behind Quinn, "happy birthday to you," he sang, everyone else's voices joining his. "Happy birthday dear Quinn, happy birthday to you."
Quinn turned in her seat to see Puck carrying a cake with candles lit, he held it just in front of her. "Make a wish," Puck said quietly, grinning at the surprised look on Quinn's face.
Quinn blew out her candles, her eyes scrunched closed as she made her wish. "What did you wish for?" Finn asked, reaching over for the slice of cake that Puck had just cut for him, for everyone.
"She can't tell you that," Brittany said, rolling her eyes in disgust. "If she tells you, it won't come true," she reminded Finn, scandalised that he wouldn't know that vital piece of information.
"Sorry Brit," Finn apologised, holding his hand up to acknowledge his mistake. Finn waited till Brittany was distracted by getting some of the delicious chocolate cake on her nose. "Seriously, what did you wish for?" he asked Quinn, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard.
"I can't tell you," Quinn murmured with a smile, she glanced at Puck, at him laughing happily with Mike and Matt, with Kurt and Mercedes. "It wouldn't be fair," she added wistfully. "I wish I had the strength to keep my daughter," she said silently to herself, "like I haven't wished that every day since I found out I was having her."
Puck came to sit beside Quinn. "Did you like your surprise?" he asked.
"I did, I loved it, thank you," Quinn replied, leaning her head against Puck's shoulder. "It's not exactly how I thought I'd be spending my sweet sixteen, but hey, it's good, it's all good," she smiled.
After school Puck drove Quinn to the mall instead of home. "What are we doing here?" she asked, surprised that he'd go to the mall without her having to beg first, Puck hated the mall, he hated shopping, especially window shopping or even worse, girl shopping.
"Just relax," Puck said with an encouraging smile. Quinn watched as he walked round the front of the truck, he opened her door for her and gave her his hand, to help her climb out. "Ready for your next surprise?" he asked, Quinn nodded, her eyes just a little moist. "Those damn hormones, right?" he teased.
"Yeah," Quinn choked out, not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. "Those damn hormones have a lot to answer for," she added then sniffed. Puck took Quinn's hand and led the way into the mall. "Where are we going?" she asked, giggling a little.
"Just trust me, ok?" Puck murmured, giving her hand a little kiss.
Quinn followed blindly, swept along at Puck's speed. "Can we slow down a second?" she asked, puffing and panting, breathless.
"Sorry," Puck apologised and slowed his pace to match her more sedate needs. "I just don't want us to be late," he added.
"Where are we going?" Quinn asked as they passed store after store, it seemed they were heading for the food court.
"Here we are," Puck murmured as they reached a table on the edge of the eating area. "Take a seat, do you want anything to eat? Drink?" he asked, glancing round then taking a better look, scanning the area as if looking for someone.
"Happy birthday, sweetie," a woman's voice came from behind Quinn.
Quinn spun round, her mouth open in surprise. "Frannie," she cried and launched herself into her sister's open arms.
"Oh honey, look at you," Frannie said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I have missed you so much, I can't believe all this has happened, mom and dad never said, they didn't…" she broke off, unable to say any more, tears pouring down her cheeks.
Quinn's tears matched her sister'. "How did you find out?" Quinn asked. "I don't…how?"
"Your guy here, Puck, is it?" Frannie replied, Quinn nodded. "He contacted us, let us know what was happening, told us about mom and dad, about the baby, about how ill you've been. How are you?" she demanded.
"Thank you," Quinn whispered as she kissed Puck's cheek, leaving him blushing slightly, looking at his feet, bashfully.
"You can leave her now, she'll be safe with me, I'll bring her home later," Frannie assured Puck, he nodded and left the two girls together.
Frannie and Quinn watched Puck leave. "He's not at all what I expected," Frannie murmured to her baby sister, hugging her tight around the shoulders. "And neither is this," she sighed, touching Quinn's stomach gently. "What happened?" she asked.
"I gave in to a moment of madness," Quinn admitted. "And then I fell in love," she added with a sigh. Quinn and her sister talked for a long time, tears were shed, memories shared, bridges built.
"So have you decided what you're going to do once the baby comes?" Frannie asked, giving Quinn a worried, concerned look.
"No," Quinn whispered, "it's something we haven't talked about, we keep avoiding that discussion," she admitted.
"Maybe it's time you did," Frannie advised, "maybe get some plans in place, time's running out you know," she reminded her sister with a wistful smile.
"Thank you," Quinn murmured against Puck's shoulder when he settled himself wearily into bed.
"I thought you were asleep," Puck whispered, "did I wake you?" he asked.
"No, I stayed awake, I wanted to thank you for today," Quinn replied, leaning over him slightly. "It's been the best birthday, thank you."
Puck sighed and hugged Quinn to his side, he fell asleep quickly, Quinn however, stayed awake contemplating the future, their future. "What are we going to do, little girl, huh?" Quinn murmured as she rubbed her stomach.
Week Twenty-eight - Your baby is now fully formed. If she were born now, she would have a good chance of survival, even though her systems would still be very immature. She weighs about 2.4 pounds and about 15.25 inches long.
"So have you made any decisions?" Josephine asked Quinn, watching her face intently.
Quinn frowned and thought about it. No they hadn't, not yet. Quinn knew that they should put the baby up for adoption, give her the best chance at a happy, fulfilled life, but there was that niggling little doubt, deep, deep down, way down inside her that said "what if…". "No, not yet," Quinn sighed, closing her eyes, shutting her ears to that little internal voice. "My sister has made a suggestion," she admitted. "Frannie and her husband have offered to take her, bring her up as their own, but I don't know, maybe that's too close, you know?"
"And what does Noah think of this adoption idea?" Josephine asked, she was sure he wouldn't like it, he seemed to be very, very attached to the baby, he talked about her all the time, maybe not to Quinn, maybe he was sparing her feelings, but to his nana he did. All the time.
"I don't know, we sort of avoid talking about it, any of it, like it's not even happening," Quinn said, starting to sob just a little, trying to hold it in, the tears, the emotions.
"May I make a suggestion?" Josephine said, looking at Quinn intently. Quinn nodded. "I suggest you sit down together, soon, and go through the pros and cons of both options, you don't have the luxury of time," she reminded Quinn, "only another twelve weeks and she'll be here, maybe less, babies are a little unpredictable in that way," she teased.
"Can we talk?" Quinn asked, interrupting Puck's recipe search on his favourite food groupie site.
"Sure," Puck replied, closing his laptop and shifting his focus to Quinn. "What's up?" he asked.
Quinn sighed and sat down heavily on the bed. "We have to make a decision about the baby," she said, sounding both sad and fearful. "We can't keep ignoring that the end is coming, it's coming faster than I'd like to think about," she mumbled, remembering the video the instructor at Lamaze class had shown last night.
Puck remembered the same video, his eyes widened briefly. "Yeah," he muttered, his head down. "I wonder if sex will ever feel the same afterwards," he said very quietly, more to himself than to Quinn as he sat down beside her and took her hand.
Quinn nudged his shoulder. "You might not get to find out," she warned. "What are we going to do?" she asked, flitting back to the more serious subject.
"You know what I want," Puck reminded Quinn. "I've said it from the start, we can be a family, we can do this," he said quietly, intently, almost forcefully.
"But what if we mess up?" Quinn asked, the tantalising taste of her very own family to love, to love her, almost within her grasp, she just had to be strong enough, brave enough to reach out and take it.
"Quinn, we're teenagers, we're bound to mess up," Puck said, he was being realistic but it wasn't helping his cause any. "But we're not going to break her, we might get stuff wrong but we have help, we have people we can call on, your sister, my mom, my nana, even your mom said she wants to help," he reminded her. "We can do this," he insisted. Quinn didn't answer, she launched herself into Puck's arms and cried a lot, but she didn't actually make a decision or agree to anything, she still didn't think she could.
Week Twenty-nine - Baby now takes up most of the space in your uterus. His eyelashes and eyebrows are fully grown, and he has hair on his head, which is still growing. He can open and shut his eyes, and is beginning to start to focus them. He weighs about 2.5 pounds, and is 15 inches long.
"Eight weeks guys," Mr Schue called as he walked into the choir room holding up a letter. "That's all the time we have to get ready for Regionals, eight weeks."
"Well, at least you'll still be a few weeks away from your due date," Puck said to Quinn quietly while all around them song suggestions were being thrown about.
"Mmm," Quinn replied, frowning and pouting. "We should be good to compete," she agreed, hoping that whatever dance routine Mr Schue worked out, it wouldn't be too energetic, she already felt like she was waddling
"Hey, are you awake?" Puck whispered loudly, his voice a little excited.
"I am now," Quinn murmured, opening her eyes a little, seeing Puck laid next to her on the bed, on his stomach, his beaming face above hers. "S'up?" she mumbled as she yawned and stretched.
"I actually got to cook something tonight," Puck replied happily, the excitement and pleasure in his voice was just wonderful. "One of the chefs called in sick so I got bumped up from salads to actually cooking the fish, it was amazing," he sighed, shaking his head, his pleasure evident on his face.
"Cool," Quinn murmured, her eyes were trying to close, she was really struggling to keep them open. "I'm really…plea…" she fell asleep.
"Well I was excited," Puck pouted. "Were you excited too?" he asked Quinn's stomach as the baby shifted underneath her nightie. "Yeah you were, your daddy cooked some great fish tonight, really great fish." Puck sighed again then slept.
Week Thirty-two - Baby now weighs almost 4 pounds and is about 18.9 inches long. She will soon be settling in position, head down, to get ready for birth.
"Hop up on the couch, Quinn," Dr Wu said with a smile. "Let's see what this little girl is doing today," he murmured, more to himself as he tried to warm his perennially cold hands.
Quinn laid back gingerly, knowing that an onslaught of indigestion and heartburn would be heading her way any second. She lifted her top self consciously and pushed her comfy maternity pants down so her neat bump was completely exposed.
Puck stood by the head of the couch holding Quinn's hand, being supportive. "Hey, was that a foot?" he asked as something moved across Quinn's stomach. "It looks like The Exorcist in there," he teased with a huge grin. Quinn didn't reply, she just lifted one eyebrow. Enough said.
"Everything seems fine," Dr Wu said as he prodded and manipulated Quinn's stomach. "She's certainly an active little beastie," he added.
"She does move a lot, especially at night," Quinn sighed, sitting back up with help from Puck. "She's usually quiet through the day then as soon as I go to bed, she wakes up and starts dancing," she semi grumbled.
"Well, through the day you're walking about, rocking her to sleep, then at night, when you lay down, baby thinks it's time to wake up," Dr Wu explained. "But don't worry, everything is good and I'll see you in two weeks, ok?"
"Thanks Dr Wu," Puck said as Quinn slipped her shoes back on.
"I just don't think I can manage all those twirls," Quinn pouted, her fists on her disappearing hips. "Can we cut the twirls down? Maybe do a few less?" she asked.
"How about, instead of the whole line twirling through the whole section, how about we start at one end, and taking turn, each pair just do one twirl, then the next then the next and so on, then back down the line, that way it's just two twirls, will that work?" Rachel suggested, trying hard to keep the choreography to a standard that would please the judges and the crowd but also simple enough to accommodate Quinn.
"That will still tie in with the beat, if we form a diagonal line like this," Mike Chang said, getting out of hold with Brittany and moving people around. He got back in position. "Can we do this part again Mr Schue?" he asked.
"Brad?" Mr Schue called, indicating for the pianist to begin the music again. Mr Schue nodded in time with the music, watching the team as they ran through the steps so far, right up to the diagonal line of six pairs, each of them set to twirl twice. "That looked really good, like the old movies with the huge musical numbers, like synchronised dancing, really great idea Rachel, Mike, if you have anymore, don't keep them to yourself," he cried, Rachel preened, Mike Chang blushed a little.
Week Thirty-six - Wow, the home stretch! You've made it! Just a few weeks left, if you have the average pregnancy. Baby continues to get ready for life on the outside by practicing breathing, sucking and swallowing. He weighs about 6 pounds and is around 20.5 inches long.
"We are not naming our daughter Jack Daniels," Quinn replied in disgust, she slammed her books into her locker. "She's a girl," she added before Puck could ask why.
"Fine, Jackie Daniels," Puck amended, rolling his eyes.
Quinn slammed her locker closed. "You want to name our daughter after alcohol?" she asked, her voice flat, disappointed. "Why not just go the whole hog and call her Wine freakin' Cooler," she shouted at him before she stormed off, her feet stamping with every step she took.
Puck sighed and leaned back against the lockers, his eyes on the ceiling so that he wouldn't have to make eye contact with any of the assholes who'd overheard the argument. "Yay, chalk one up to Puck the super numpty," he mocked himself quietly.
"S'up?" Finn asked as he came across Puck, still slumped against the locker. "Quinn chew you out about something again?" he asked with a hint of genuine sympathy. "What did you do now?" he asked.
Puck looked affronted. "Why is it automatically me who's done something wrong?" he asked, pouting.
"Because it probably was," Finn replied, trying not to laugh at Puck's face, he looked like a hurt little boy. "So what did you do to piss her off?" he asked again.
"I suggested a name for the baby," Puck replied, sighing again.
"And?" Finn asked, hoping Puck would elaborate.
"And she didn't like it," Puck responded with a shrug.
"What was the name?" Finn asked.
"Jack Dani…well, Jackie Daniels," Puck mumbled, a little embarrassed about his choice now that Quinn had shot it down in flames.
"Jackie Daniels?" Finn asked in disbelief. "Jackie Daniels? You want to name your daughter after alcohol?" he demanded.
"That's what Quinn said," Puck sighed, amazed that Finn had said almost the exact same thing that Quinn had. "Is it some sort of Christian thing?" he demanded, just shy of seriously.
"After the way she was conceived, you really think bringing alcohol into her name is a good idea?" Finn asked, reminding Puck of his confession a couple of months ago.
"…know we hurt you, I know that you had real feelings for Quinn and to be honest, if I hadn't gotten her drunk on wine coolers first, I don't think she would have…"
Puck sighed and rubbed his hand through his mohawk. He knew that both Finn and Quinn were right. Maybe he should have another think about it.
"Mr Schue," Puck said as he walked into class late. "I have something to say to Quinn, and I want everybody to hear it," he added as his eyes locked with Quinn's. Mr Schue moved aside allowing Puck to speak. "At first I didn't really get this theatrical assignment, being larger than life and putting it all out there, 'cause I'm kind of like that all the time," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's how my dad was too," he admitted, looking down at the floor, he didn't want anyone to see the hurt in his eyes. "He was always too busy being all crazy and rock and roll to be there for his kid and you know what?" he asked, looking back at Quinn. "I didn't care that my dad was a badass, I just wanted him to be there and he never was," he finished sadly, "and then I learned all this Kiss stuff and while Jackie Daniels is a great name for like a power boat or something, it's not right for a baby girl," he admitted with a sigh. "So if my Kiss-mates will help me out," he said as he looked around at his team mates, "I got a better idea. Grab a stool guys," he said, reaching for one himself.
Puck, Finn, Artie, Mike and Matt took a moment to get comfortable, Brad and the band began playing. Puck caught and held Quinn's gaze, they barely blinked, either of them.
Puck sang first.
"Beth I hear you calling,
But I can't come home right now
Me and the boys playing
And we just can't find the sound"
All joined in.
"Just a few more hours
And I'll be right home to you
I think I hear them calling
Oh Beth what can I do
Beth what can I do"
Finn took the next part, he looked at Kurt and sang to him, there were things going on there that no one knew about.
"You say you feel so empty
That our house just ain't a home
I'm always somewhere else
And you're always there alone"
All the boys joined in again.
"Just a few more hours
And I'll be right home to you
I think I hear them calling
Oh Beth what can I do
Beth what can I do"
During the long musical interlude Quinn's tear flooded eyes couldn't hold them any longer, the tears dripped from her long, pink, Gaga lashes. Puck had to swallow hard to hold in his own emotions. He sang the last part alone.
"Beth I know you're lonely
And I hope you'll be alright
'Cause me and the boys will be playing,
All night,
All night"
Puck stood up and sighed as he walked over to Quinn, he stopped in front of her. "I know I've been an idiot, coming up with stupid names and stuff, but I really am ready for this," he told Quinn, feeling the stares of the whole class upon them. "And I really can't wait for her to be born, to be there, to meet her, and I really think we should call her Beth, it's a really pretty name," he said, finishing just before his voice broke. Quinn couldn't speak, she could only nod.
"Hi sweetie," Frannie cried as Quinn answered the phone. "I haven't heard from you for a couple of weeks, are you ok?" she asked.
"I'm fine," Quinn answered a little sharply, her voice sounding a little thick, emotional.
"Quinn, what's wrong?" Frannie pounced immediately.
"Nothing, nothing," Quinn assured her sister. "Puck sang for me today at school, well, he sang for the baby, he wants us to name her Beth," she explained, the tears choking her again.
"So?" Frannie said, drawing the word out, trying to draw Quinn into explaining further.
"I still don't know yet if we're going to keep her or…" Quinn answered through the tears, she broke off, too upset to finish what she was saying.
"Quinn, listen to me," Frannie said quite sternly. "I think you should stop thinking like that, just put that right out of your mind, I think you should just concentrate on keeping that precious baby inside you for a few more weeks, then, once she's here, you can concentrate on getting to know your daughter, concentrate on becoming the mother that I know you can be. You can do this, Quinn," she urged, sounding as though she was crying herself.
"I can, can't I?" Quinn whispered feeling a huge weight lifting off of her shoulders. Quinn stood taller, her shoulders back, she drew in a wonderful, cleansing breath. "I can do this, I'm going to be a mother," she announced happily to her sister. Quinn didn't see Monica Puckerman ease herself back through the half open door or the delighted smile on her face. "I have to go tell Puck, tell him he's going to be a daddy."
"Two trout, one rabbit and one veal," Roberto called across the kitchen.
"Yes Chef," came the shout from the three different work stations, Puck got straight on with preparing the trout. Once the fish was cooked to perfection and put aside to rest for a minute or so, Puck prepared the plates with the days accompaniments, the green beans and the pear, parmesan and rocket salad, each plate identical, under the watchful gaze of Roberto. "Order up, Chef," Puck called, within seconds the other two orders were ready too.
"Good job guys," Roberto called as the four plates went out to the restaurant. "Puck, take a break, you too, Toby," he instructed, knowing that the restaurant was full so currently no new orders would come in. "Ten minutes, alright guys?"
"Yes Chef," they both called and headed out back to get some fresh air.
"Jeez, it's hot in there tonight," Puck sighed, downing half a bottle of water in just a couple of gulps. Puck felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, he brought it out and checked it, a message from Quinn, she was in the parking lot, could he text if he got a minute. "I'm just going round the front to see my girl," Puck said with a wink and a grin at Toby, he set off at a jog, knowing time was short. "Hey babe," he murmured into the open window of his mom's car, reaching to plant his lips on hers. "S'up?" he asked, seeing something strange in her face.
"I just wanted to let you know that we need to go shopping tomorrow before you start work," Quinn answered breathlessly, sounding quite excited and girlish.
"Why?" Puck asked, curiosity niggling at him.
"Because we need a crib, diap…" Quinn started to explain, her words cut short by Puck throwing the car door open and leaning in to her to hug her tight.
"We're doing this?" he demanded. "We're keeping her?" he asked, just to make sure Quinn's nod wasn't a joke.
"We're doing this," Quinn agreed nervously.
Puck couldn't say any more, her just hugged Quinn tight until he heard Toby shout his name. "I have to go, but please, try to stay awake, I'll be home as soon as I can, ok?" he begged, he needed more information.
Puck and Quinn met Frannie at the mall on Saturday morning. "I only have an hour and a half before I have to go to work," Puck explained, "but you two can carry on shopping when I have to go," he glanced at Quinn with laughing eyes and gave her hand a little squeeze, "just be careful with my card, alright," he said.
"You trust her with your bank card?" Frannie asked, exaggerated shock on her face. "Oh my Lord, my husband doesn't trust me with his and we've been married for four years," she exclaimed.
"I've seen you shop before," Quinn stated, giving her sister a knowing look, "I'm not surprised he doesn't trust you, I wouldn't either."
Frannie pouted then laughed and slapped a big kiss on Quinn's cheek, she couldn't really deny it, she was a shop-a-holic, especially if it was someone else's money.
"Let's go look at the big stuff first, get the things we absolutely can't manage without," Puck suggested, leading the way to the nursery outlet with Quinn trailing behind him, her hand grasped in his.
In the store Quinn stood mesmerised, she looked at one crib first and wanted that one, then she looked at another and changed her mind, then another and changed her mind again. "They're all so beautiful, how am I meant to decide?" she wailed.
"Let's think logically for a second, the room we have for her is small so we don't want dark furniture," Puck said as he glanced around checking out the dark woods and the lighter items. "This one here, look, it's a mini-crib," he read from the tag, "but it has different height adjustments, it fits into smaller bedrooms, and it goes through doors, if we get this, we won't need a bassinette or anything for her, this is on wheels, it'll go from our room to hers," he explained, working it out aloud. He checked the price. "This has got to be wrong," he whispered wide eyed.
"What is it?" Quinn asked. "Is it really expensive?"
"No, just the opposite, it's on sale at $150, that can't possibly be right," Puck muttered, looking round for a sales assistant. "Can you give us some advice please?" he asked a woman who was hovering nearby.
"Of course, how can I help?" the assistant asked. She went through the price, yes it was correct, she offered advice on matching furniture, those pieces were all on sale too, she also gave advice on the vital accessories. Puck stood at the counter to pay for their items, the crib and a mattress and bedding, a changing station and a dresser.
"I have to go to work now," Puck said and handed his card over to Quinn. "Just please, be careful, there isn't unlimited funds in that account," he reminded her with a gulp, feeling a little nervous at it being so out of his control.
"I know, you've worked hard to earn that money, I'm not going to blow it all," Quinn promised. "Mercedes has just sent me a text too, they want to hold a baby shower for us, now that they know we're going to keep her," she told Puck, "so maybe we should just get the stroller now and leave everything else, see what gifts we get," she suggested.
"Sounds good to me," Puck nodded and kissed Quinn's head before he left the sisters to their shopping. "Holy crap," he muttered to himself as he got back into his truck, he gulped nervously and dragged his phone from his pocket. He tried a number of times to compose a text to Quinn but couldn't find a way to say please don't leave me bankrupt without actually saying please don't leave me bankrupt. "Crap," he sighed again and put his phone away.
Frannie and Quinn wandered round the store. "Damn," Quinn hissed. "I know I'm not paying a thousand dollars for a stroller," she grumbled quietly to her sister.
Frannie looked at the weird looking stroller wide eyed. "A thousand dollars?" she repeated. "Who would pay that much for something that looks so weird?" she asked.
"Not me, that's for sure," Quinn muttered as she checked out a more affordable stroller. "This one seems to have everything we'll need, it's from birth onwards, it has the car seat attachment, it's easy to fold," she said, reading out the information. "I like the Bugaboo."
"Let me pay for this though," Frannie said, holding Quinn's hand. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer that one?" she asked, pointing at the really expensive one.
"No, absolutely not," Quinn replied. "Are you sure you want to pay for this?" she asked, grateful to her sister for her generosity.
"I'm sure," Frannie said, giving Quinn a hug. "Mom is paying half along with me," she admitted. "Dad doesn't know, obviously," she said with a mocking little laugh," but mom wants to help."
Week Thirty-seven - Baby is now making cortisone, which is the hormone that will help his lungs mature enough to handle breathing air on his own. His lanugo, the fine hair he developed earlier, is starting to wear off on its own. He weighs about 6.5 pounds, and is approx 21 inches long.
"I don't believe it," Mr Schue groaned, his head in his hands, feeling the soul destroying weight of defeat. "She's done it again. She absolutely has done it again, the woman is a menace," he insisted to Principal Figgins. "How can you still employ her?" he demanded. "She's given our set list to the other teams, she told me so, she admitted that she did it for Sectionals and now she's done it again, we've spent weeks learning those numbers and dance routines to go with them," he cried. "The deal is off, it has to be off, Glee stays regardless of the outcome, it's only fair," he said, staring at the principal.
"The deal stands," Principal Figgins stated, "you have to place or win or Glee is over."
"Dammit," Mr Schue shouted as he spun away, his hands gripping his hair. Mr Schue growled at Sue Sylvester who stood smirking outside the office. "You haven't won yet," he hissed at her.
"Oh I think I might have," Sue Sylvester answered with a superior grin. "I'm one of the judges," she imparted before walking away with her head up high.
"Ok, guys, listen up," Mr Schue sighed as he walked into the choir room after leaving Figgins' office.
"Mr Schue," Rachel started to say, "Finn and I have an idea."
"Take a seat please Rachel, I have something to say," Mr Schue announced. "We have come a long, long way," he reminded everyone, looking round at the kids in his team. A sudden thought struck him. "We have had such a journey," he grinned, "and so, we're going to do a Journey medley."
"Errm, Mr Schue," Artie began hesitantly, raising his hand slowly, "what about the numbers we've been rehearsing for the last couple of months?" he asked.
"Sue Sylvester," Mr Schue announced, taking a deep breath, "she has given our set list to the other teams. Again," he informed them all. "I'm not taking the risk of what happened at Sectionals," he said sadly, looking at all the disbelieving faces. "We're going with Journey, ok, let's practice…"
Puck glanced to his left to check on Quinn, he was a little worried right now, here they were, on stage, about to sing and she was puffing and blowing like something not right. He could hear Rachel and Finn getting to the part of the song where they all…there it was, Puck joined in with everyone harmonising to Finn and Rachel singing as the curtain rose. He kept facing forwards, looking out of the corner of his eye at Quinn, saw the flush on her cheeks, the slight grimace that disappeared almost at fast as it appeared. "Crap," he thought as he sang, "not today, please not today."
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," Quinn thought as she sang the harmonies to Finn and Rachel's song. "Oh, Beth, not today sweetie, stay there for just a little…while…longer," she almost groaned as the pain swept through her, the only thing that kept Quinn up-right was the dedicated training from Sue Sylvester. Quinn was grateful of Puck's hand to assist her as she climbed the steps as part of the dance sequence.
"How're you doing?" Puck asked without moving his lips, feeling Quinn grip his hand even tighter. "Not so good, huh?"
"Keep going," Quinn muttered with a smile fixed on her face. "Ten more minutes, that's it, ten minutes," she said as they got into position for the next part.
Puck felt a little easier after dancing with Quinn at the top of the steps. She seemed to be more relaxed. Maybe things weren't as bad as he thought. He revised that idea when they were all stood in formation for their third number, Don't Stop Believing. Puck walked past Quinn to sing his part with Santana, he saw Quinn wince again and heard her little gasp. Towards the end of the number when the choreography called for Puck to dance next to Quinn he felt her hand land on his shoulder, felt how tight her grip was, glanced to his right and saw her hold her side.
The second they were off stage Puck helped Quinn walk slowly back to the dressing room. "It's time, isn't it?" he asked quietly, not wanting to draw attention to them.
"I think so," Quinn gasped, wincing even more. "Mom, what are you doing here?" she asked as she caught sight of Judy waiting at the door of the dressing room.
"I came to hear you sing," Judy informed Quinn, her voice a breathless gasp. "You were wonderful," she told her daughter. "How are you?" she asked.
Quinn looked at her mother in stunned silence. She turned her face slowly towards Puck, felt his comforting hand on her back. "My water just broke," she whispered nervously.
Quinn felt as if the world went into overdrive around her while passing her by, it was as though everyone was rushing, dashing about but she could only blink slowly seeing a blur of movement in front of her. She became aware of Finn speaking to Puck.
"Calm down," Finn said sternly, gripping on to Puck's shirt front. "Chill. Quinn needs you to be there for her, calm down," he told him again, firmly.
"Ok, ok," Puck managed to say breathlessly, almost hyperventilating. "Hospital, we need to get there. I need to call my mom to bring your bag, it's in the closet," he said although not really to Quinn. "Crap, my mom's going to freak out, she won't even know what a freakin' bag will look like," he muttered to himself.
"Puck, where's the bag?" Finn asked, Puck told him. "I'll come with you, take you to the hospital then call at your house to collect the bag, ok?" he suggested, Puck nodded, recognising that Finn was making good suggestions but actually, he had no idea what Finn had just said.
"You suck, you suck, you suck, you suck," Quinn growled through gritted teeth. "Jeez this hurts more than I thought it was going to," she thought, "you are so going to pay for this Puckerman," she added, giving Puck the most hateful glare.
In a sudden rush of activity the pain was over and Quinn felt herself lifted on a cloud of love, the most supreme joy filled her entire being. She looked down at the tiny angel in her arms and couldn't stop the flow of tears.
"She looks like you," Judy told her daughter as they stood side by side watching the baby sleep in the nursery. "Do you want to keep her?" she asked.
"Yes, we're keeping her," Puck answered from Quinn's other side. "Her name is Beth," he added, Quinn looked up at him with a tremulous, watery smile, she managed to nod faintly, agreeing with him but unable to put it into words.
"I'm glad," Judy whispered as she hugged Quinn, patting her daughter's back, "and I'll help in any way I can," she promised.
"Thanks mom," Quinn replied tearfully. She watched her mother walk away then turned back to Puck. Quinn remembered something that Puck had told her father months ago. "Did you love me?" she asked, a little fearful of the answer.
Puck didn't even need to think. He snorted a little laugh. "Yes," he replied with a grin, "especially now," he added as he bent towards her to drop a kiss on her lips. "Hey hot momma, it's time to get acquainted with our daughter."