Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Glee whatsoever. If I did, well let's just say there would be a hell of a lot more male nudity, and male on male action.
Author's note: I've wanted to write a Glee story and step away from HP for quite some time. I love PuckxKurt stories, and I think I came up with one that is slightly original in the Glee fandom (even if it is cliché everywhere else).
Warnings: Story is rated 'M' for a reason. Contains violence, foul language, adult situations of possibly the heterosexual and most certainly the homosexual variety. There may be scenes of attempted N/C situations, but that all depends on what you the reader wants to see. This story is un-beta'd, any and all mistakes are my own.
This story takes place during season 1 of Glee, however Noah Puckerman is 25 years old in this story, and everyone else remains their regular age (unless I say otherwise at a later date.)
"This is a robbery! Hands where I can see them! Get your asses on the ground before I put so many God damn fucking holes in your head they won't even be able to use your dental records to figure out who you sorry bitches are!"
Shots rang throughout the bank's small atrium; it was nothing like the movies, and it certainly was nothing like he usually saw in some of the more 'well-to-do' banks back home in Philly. For a few seconds, it seemed as though his months of training and years of service seemed to disappear completely as the four masked men entered through the glass doors of Lima's Fifth Third bank. All of it seemed to come back however as one of the men shoved a .45 caliber handgun (most likely a S&W, but his sight was blocked by one of the building's decorative columns he had ducked behind) into the face of the pudgy old Pillsbury doughboy wannabe who decided to impersonate a bank security guard and demanded the man's most likely empty gun.
"Give your money and your valuables to the nice man with the shotgun over there. Stop your crying lady or I'll give you something to cry about."
This was Lima Fuckin' Ohio for Christ's sake. It didn't even have .03% of the population of Philadelphia (and his little sister Sarah had done the math, so she was probably right). This was supposed to be his vacation, even if it was for the funeral of his old man who had run out on his family before the eldest Puckerman child finished elementary school, and the youngest hadn't even graduated to rice cereal yet. Lima was supposed to have the old car factory, the worn down market district that only potheads and old women with macramé potted plant holders went to. It was supposed to be a place where the only crime was petty theft and vandalism, usually related to local high school punks trying to show off to their favorite Cheerio who wouldn't give them a glass of water even if they were dying of dehydration right in front of them.
"You there! Lock the damn doors! If I see anyone so much as touch an alarm everyone is dead! Get it?"
This was Lima Fuckin' Ohio for Christ's sake. These are normal Midwestern folks – they don't have anything of real value. The most these punks are going to get off these people is a couple hundred bucks, maybe a semi-decent Rolex knock off, and some wedding bands. The adrenaline was still there, but the fog started to clear and Officer Noah Puckerman (Yeah, still made his mom laugh every damn time she heard that title) looked around and took stock of his fellow hostages and their captors. A small part of him wished he had kept his gun on him and hadn't left it out in his truck, but the larger more logical part of him was grateful that he did. If there was one thing that Sergeant Nichols had beaten into all of their dumbass heads during their time at the academy was when to be a 'hero' and when to 'Shut your damn mouth! A dead cop is a useless cop. Protocol is there for a reason you idiots!'
"Everyone circle up in the corner! On your bellies and faces to the floor!"
Noah followed the eight other hostages, four of them included the bank manager, the security guard, and the two tellers who made an appearance after their drawers had been emptied. He ignored them and the other customers for the most part, trying to memorize everything he could about the gunmen for now. That information would be necessary for when he tried to figure out his way out of this mess without any casualties, and if any of these punks got away, the local PD would need all the information they could get on these bastards.
The guy doing all the yelling was clearly the one in charge, the so called 'alpha dog' of this group of cowards. The way his three lackeys moved around the room was deliberate, enough to suggest that they were from the area, or they had been watching this bank for some time. Maybe both if he wanted to be honest with himself. Gunman #1 was the one with the .45, a direct and confrontational burly male with cold dark blue eyes and wisps of dirty blond hair sticking out from under his mask. This was a man who didn't have a problem getting into people's faces before beating them to a pulp.
It was hard to get a feel for the other three gunmen, but the one with the shotgun seemed anxious – never a good sign in a robber. The other two both seemed to be cocky and confident, but Noah had a feeling it was all for show. If Gunman #1 was out of the picture, the rest of the men would surely crumble to pieces. The problem was getting rid of the 'alpha' without the rest of the dogs killing every man and woman in the bank. Everything would go fine as long as the hostages did what they were told, everything would be fine as long as no one tried to be a hero, and no one figured out he was a cop.
"I said get on the ground you little bitch!" Gunman #1 stood in front of two high school age kids, his gun inches from the forehead of a very feminine looking well dressed boy who was crouched in front of a sobbing blonde girl who was clearly ready to pop based on how heavily pregnant she was. Noah could remember her type from his time at William McKinley, before the teen got knocked up she was probably a Cheerio, and if he had to guess probably the daughter of some hot shot businessman. "Get on the ground or I'll fucking shoot you!"
"She can't you dumbass!"
Noah couldn't help but wince as he heard the high voice of the teen male for the first time. Don't get him wrong, the boy's voice was beautiful if you took out the hoarseness that came from panic and fear.
"What the hell did you say you little fairy boy?" Gunman #1 hit the boy sharply with his gun, ignoring the protesting cries of the rest of the hostages. "Keep your eyes on the ground and shut the hell up before I kill you both!"
"She can't lay on her stomach!" The teen was resting on his hands and knees now, eyes pointed towards the floor but still maintaining his position in front of the girl. "If she does it could crush the baby!"
"Fine. The little slut better face the fucking wall. Else she'll kill that kid by being stupid. Anyone else got some requests their willing to die for? NO? Didn't think so."
As long as they kept their mouths shut from now on, they should all be fine.
As long as the men didn't find Noah's badge in his back pocket, they should all be fine.
As long as someone called for help soon, they should all be fine.
This was Lima fuckin' Ohio, and for the first time Officer Noah Puckerman got to see the other side of a hostage situation.
Well? Is this something you'd like to see more of? Please review and let me know. Thanks.