A/N: Fluffy fluff fluff here. Just a fun little one-off I cranked out while I'm locked in my house, refusing to go out into the sub-zero temperatures. As always, nothing belongs to me except the story.
Sliding on her heels and grabbing her bag from the hall closet, Rachel followed the sound of laughter into the living room to say goodbye to her boys. She really didn't feel like going out into the rain on a Saturday morning, but she had a matinee performance and didn't really have a choice.
The sight as she entered the room caused her to stop abruptly. Puck sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt and strumming the guitar in his lap. Sitting across from him was their three year old son David, still wearing his footie-pajamas and lovingly cradling the tiny guitar they had purchased for his birthday. Every so often, Puck would lean over and move David's tiny fingers to form a new chord before encouraging him to strum along. One of his favorite phrases once he started talking was "Daddy play!" And Puck always indulged him, no matter what. Even at 9:00 on a Saturday morning.
David's dark curls fell down over his forehead and the tip of his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he struggled to mirror the actions of the man sitting across from him. The familiar look of intense concentration and determination that was etched across his face caused Rachel to laugh out loud.
"Mommy!" David tossed the tiny guitar to the side as he launched himself at Rachel. Puck grimaced at the sound the instrument made as it hit the floor and reached over to pick up the instrument and lean it up against the couch. He had insisted on buying the most expensive child's guitar the music store had, despite Rachel's protests. If our kid is going to be a rock star, babe, he needs the best guitar.
"Mommy, did you hear me playing? Did I sound good? Daddy says that if I keep practicing I can have a band and then lots of pretty girls will come watch me play and when I have a band I can cut my hair funny and have a mole-hawk and..."
"Davey" Puck cut in. "It's called a mohawk buddy. And I thought that was going to be our little secret."
"But it's Mommy. We don't keep secrets from Mommy."
Puck quirked his eyebrow up at Rachel. "Seriously babe?"
"Noah, I can't help the fact that I have an open and honest relationship with our son."
"Rach, he's three. You could tell him that you're a princess and he'd believe you."
David glared up at him. "Mommy is a princess. She's pretty and she sings and she told me that she had to kiss a lot of frogs before she found her prince."
Now it was Rachel's turn to be embarrassed. "Okay sweetheart, I think that's enough honesty for one day. Mommy will see you tonight." Rachel scooped her little boy into her arms and smothered his face in kisses before setting him back on the floor.
Puck grabbed Rachel around the waist and walked with her to the front door, letting go only long enough to let her slip her jacket on.
"Noah?" Rachel twisted away from Puck as latched back on to her and peppered kisses up and down her neck.
"Yeah babe?"
"If I ever come home to find my son with that ridiculous haircut that you're so fond of, you will be sleeping on the couch for a very long time."
"Yes dear." Puck kissed her on the cheek and ushered her out of the house.
The second the front door closed, Puck turned to look at the little boy looking expectantly up at him.
"Come on little dude. Let's go see if we can give you an afro."