Hey all. I've been dying to write this story for some time, so I hope you enjoy it. I've been so busy, with schoolwork and revision and I have a new job... genrally needed a break, and here is the result. Enjoy!

Noah Puckerman was having a shitty day, and it was without doubt not his fault. Yeah, sure, normally he could blame nobody but himself for shitty days such as these, but there was no disputing how not his fault today was.

Firstly, he always hated Tuesdays; they were always filled with bad stuff. But today was worse than any of them.

To start with, the boiler was out, so no hot water, and cold showers – kind of defeating their point – always made him think of sexual… well, they made him think sexually. This frame of mind usually lasted all day, at least, so his options were, be funky and greasy all day, or have serious problems hiding his numerous erections that are sprung on by the littlest things.

He couldn't win faced with those choices, but he was generally controlled by his dick anyway, so why make today any different. So he had his morning shower, got ready for school, and went downstairs to find his sister hurling into a bucket, covered by some sort of rash thing.

His mom was speaking loudly into the phone, saying stuff that sounded medical. She was a nurse at the local hospital, and while he thought it was kinda cool to have a mom who knew all that, he never followed what she said, so he just headed towards the door. He almost, almost ignored her frantic waving, but he figured he'd get an earful, and he just wasn't in the mood for bad karma today, so he span around and waited for her to get off the phone, fixing himself so breakfast.

As he was sitting down in the kitchen with his cornflakes and, like, ten spoonfuls of sugar, his mom hung up, slumped in the chair next to him and sighed loudly.

"You can't go to school today. We've been quarantined."

Puck stopped chewing. "What?"

She nodded. "I know, I know. This sucks. But, if you hadn't noticed – and I love your concern, by the way – Elle is really sick, and the doctors think it could be really contagious. They're pretty sure it's not too dangerous, but they still don't particularly want an epidemic."

He quickly swallowed the food that was in his mouth, the partially-chewed cornflakes scratching his throat as they went down. "So, what, I can't leave the house? I have a date later."

She rolled her eyes. "Noah, what you do I would hardly class as dating."

Puck shrugged proudly, which earned him a cuff around the back of the head.

He chuckled. There was a moment's silence when all they could hear was Elle gagging and the nasty whoosh of sick hitting the bottom of the plastic bucket.

Puck knew that sound all too well. Not only did he regularly end up face down in the bucket because of too much drink, but he'd had a few spouts of illness as a child that had left him heaving for days at a time. His mom had gone out of her way to get him his own barf bucket, which was what Elle was using now. He'd get possessive if it wasn't so gross.

Breaking the silence, his mom threw her head back and moaned dramatically. "My boss is gonna throw all kinds of fits when I tell him I can't come in today."

Puck smirked. "Is this the boss that's in love with you?"

Karen Puckerman placed a hand on her hip, her entire body saying 'sass'. "My boss is not in love with me. Plus, if there were one boss that you juvenile children might think was inclined towards acting preferably towards me, and that was the boss that you were referring to, then no, this is a different boss."

"So when does lovey-dovey-doctor boss work?" He scooped more cereal into his mouth.

She smiled. "Wednesday."

"So Tuesday boss is a douche?"

Karen nodded. "Yep."
Puck laughed. "Have fun telling him, then." He thought for a second. "Wait, shouldn't he be supportive and shit? I mean, he's the type of person who recommends quarantine, isn't he?"

She quirked an eyebrow, a knack he'd picked up from her. "You'd think."

"You cool telling my school as well? Don't think they'd believe me if I called up." He'd finished his bowl of cornflakes, and was already looking around the kitchen for something else.

She nodded. "And I've already called Elle's; they have a study day, or something."

Elle was currently enjoying her sophomore year, with a free ride at a prep school that was full of snooty rich kids, while Puck was a senior at the local McKinley High School, because there was no point trying for a scholarship at a better school (his grades were, for lack of a better term, crap, and while he was good at football, his team was so crap that he'd never impress), and they didn't have the money. She was the one they relied on to get a good education and a well-paid job, and then go on to support the rest of them as Puck inevitably ended up in prison, driving Karen to drink.

The whole situation meant that Elle only really had one friend who came over regularly, as the other kids would always tease her about their money issues. She handled it pretty well, though.

Feeling slightly bad for his impassive disregard for Elle's spewing status, Puck lumbered back out to the lounge and dropped himself onto the couch next to her. There seemed to be a pause in the gagging, so Puck stuck up a conversation.

"How's it going, kiddo?" He rubbed her upper back, knowing from a fair few years as an older brother that this made her feel better when she was sick.

She shifted the bucket so that it was resting on her knees, held by just one hand, and used the other to flip him the bird.

He chuckled. "Wanna move upstairs?"

She nodded dumbly into her bucket.

After about ten minutes of shuffling Elle and her stuff upstairs, with a couple puke breaks on the way, Puck had her in her room with a clean, empty bucket (What? The other one was his, and they should have known better than to use it!) and her freaky 'calming' music that usually grated on his nerves, but was a welcome break from barfing.

It was only when he was heading down to watch television that he noticed a huge streak of hurl across the front of his GODDAMNNEWSHIRT! MOTHER FUCKER! So, yeah. Today has been a shitty day.

Angrily ripping it over his head – but not so angrily that there was a chance of getting puke on him – he stomped over to the front door and practically tore the door of its hinges.

He was in such a rush to chuck the ruined, and GOD DAMN NEW, shirt in the garbage outside that he almost ran into a small – tiny even – girl at the door. She squeaked to let him know of her presence just in time to stop herself getting run over.

"–the fuck?" He pulled back, holding the shirt at arms length out to the side so that neither of them smelt or had to touch it.

The girl swallowed and looked Puck up and down (attempting to be sly about checking him out, but failing terribly).

"Oh my."

Maha. I like that last line. It made me laugh imagining it. Aha.

PLEASE REVIEW! 3