A.N. I know, I know, I suck on too many levels to count for being so late with this update. I blame it on a crippling bout of writer's block which made just about every paragraph feel like I was chiselling marble! Please don't hold it against me and review anyway! Thanks so much to all who reviewed last chapter and hopefully the next chapter will not take me so long.

One more thing, I have to admit Grace is not a completely original character - I've based her on a character from Susan Elizabeth Phillips book "Natural Born Charmer" which I heartily recommend as a cracking good read!

Chapter 4

"Why the hell did we agree to host Nate Silverberg's 21st here?" Puck grumbled as he went over the catering lists. "Stinking up the place with his upper east side brat pack trust fund rejects."

His business partner and best friend merely shrugged, accustomed to the grousing. "His money doesn't stink," Finn said. "What's with you? You're usually all about the bottom-line."

"I just don't want this place to become known as some glitzy rich people's hang-out, that's all. Trust me, it'll be bad for business if I'm always fighting the urge to beat up our customers." Puck looked around the club with a jealous eye. Although he, Finn and Artie had opened the place five years ago, it was very much Puck's baby and was a reflection of his vision. It combined modern and rustic with its high-glossed wooden floors, darkly red colour scheme and a collection of booths, chairs and tables which, while none being identical, somehow managed to blend to a pleasing effect. Although the "look" owed something to Mercedes who had made her usual forceful suggestions on the renovation as she viewed the process from her interior design studio in Los Angeles, thanks to the magic of web cams.

The stage and lighting built into the corner was Finn's contribution to the fit-out. During their years at NYU they had supported themselves by taking the band they had formed in high school onto the New York club circuit and had surprisingly met with more success than that sort of endeavour usually finds. However, not all clubs are equal and they had found themselves wrestling with dodgy equipment and poorly designed stage areas which did not even have wheelchair access for their lead guitarist, a deficiency they had rectified in their own establishment.

Right on cue (like any good performer), Artie chose that moment to roll down the stage ramp, cruising to a halt before his two partners. "I am sensing there is more to your stormy disposition than class prejudice. Could this have something to do with your long lost offspring turning up on your doorstep this morning?"

Puck narrowed his eyes at Artie. "How do you know about that?"

"Kurt knows about it. You should have automatically assumed everybody in "Team Glee" with the brains to work a cell phone would know by now."

They both looked over to Finn who was punching buttons on his phone, biting his tongue as he struggled to retrieve his text messages. "Ha! Got it," he exclaimed. Then his eyes widened as he read. "Holy shit! Drizzle is back?"

"Her name is Grace," Puck corrected. "Quinn dropped her off with us this morning and said we could keep her. But then, being Quinn and about as reliable as a 10 cent condom, there's no telling how long the kid will be with us before her sad excuse for a mother changes her mind and comes back for her."

"Is that why you're not jumping up and down and slaughtering the fatted calf?" Artie asked. "You don't think she'll be with you long?"

"Who cares how long she's with you," Finn interjected, slapping Puck's shoulder. "She's here now! You should be happy, dude! I know you always wanted a chance for her to get to know you."

"Easy for you to say, Hudson. Sure, twelve years ago I'd have given my left nut to have a chance to be a father to her, back when she was a baby not having a clue what was going on around her and catching on to all the mistakes I'd make. It's a different story when you're playing to an eleven year old audience who only knows you as the deadbeat dad who never sent her so much as a birthday card her whole life."

"So tell her your side of the story," Artie said. "Give her the good news that you're not that guy."

"What's the point? Words aren't going to change anything. Fact of the matter is I left her alone to be raised by the Queen Bitch of Lima and her smarmy politician husband. She should hate me."

"Sorry, I thought we were organising a birthday party here, not a pity party," Artie said, rolling his eyes. "Must have my dates mixed up."

"You're right, we should get back to business. So, Silverberg wants live music. Is your wife all set for the female vocalist numbers?"

"Are you kidding? Now that Micah is teething, Tina looks for any excuse to hire a babysitter and give her eardrums a rest."

Puck turned to his other partner who had been quiet for a while now. "Finn, have you checked if we have enough of that fancy German beer they asked for? Finn?"

"Huh?" Finn duhed, pulling his head out of the clouds.

"Beer, Man. Stay with me here."

"Sorry, I was just thinking about…beer." Actually, Finn had been thinking of Quinn. I can't believe she came back. I kind of wish I'd been around so I could ask her why she did what she did to me back in high school. It would have been good to get some closure. Lay the past to rest. I wonder if she's still hot?

"Is Rachel going to step up to the mike tonight for a song?" Artie asked, giving up on Finn.

"That was the plan, but the plan was pre-Grace. She may want to stay home with the kid instead." Noah shook his head. "Kids change everything."

"Indeed they do, my friend," Artie agreed. "But speaking as one who is also new in the ways of fatherhood, I'm holding on to the belief that the payoff is worth it. At least, that's what I tell myself when my 6 month old son is screaming his head off at 3.00 am."

"That reminds me, we have to keep our wives apart tonight," Puck said in serious tones.

"Why? I thought they worked out a diva détente years ago when it comes to sharing the stage."

"It's not that. I think Tina's constant prattling on about Micah is having some weird brainwashing effect on Rachel. She keeps bringing up the having-a-baby discussion."

"And that's a bad thing because…?"

"Are you kidding me? She's got Broadway and movie deals in the works, she doesn't have time to raise a new baby. She doesn't really have time to raise my old baby either, but she's all over that like Coach Tanaka on a drumstick. No, between your wife's fixation on teething ointments and my mother's constant demands for grandchildren, Rachel doesn't know what she wants."


"Trust me, I know what I want," Rachel stated.

"A baby, Rachel? Why on earth would you want to saddle yourself with a drooling poop machine?" Kurt shuddered delicately as he sipped his caramel mocha latte.

"Having children was always the plan. I just feel the time is right to bump up the schedule a little. Kurt, I think I'm ready to be a mother!" Rachel exclaimed with an excited bounce on her seat. She and Kurt were enjoying an afternoon coffee break in the café section at Bergdorfs.

"Speaking of your keen maternal instincts, didn't we come in here with a girl child - say yay big, answers to the name of Grace? Or did that crew of white slavers get to her while you were agonising over whether to put sprinkles on your capp?"

Kurt laughed when Rachel's face went into panic-mode, until she spotted Grace coming towards them, carefully balancing a cup and saucer. Her appearance was greatly improved thanks to Kurt's guidance; rarely had he found greater satisfaction in a makeover result. Grace was now dressed in becoming but comfortable dark denim jeans with a forest green shirt. Her shaggy hair had been cut and straightened so it now framed her face (Rachel just glared at Kurt when he suggested a mohawk) and the optometrist had fitted the lenses from her hideous glasses into something a lot less Dame Edna (the contact lenses were on order). The most satisfying change in Rachel's opinion was that there were moments when the girl broke out of her Oliver Twist impersonation, losing that look of fear that if she said or did anything wrong she would be turned out on the streets. But when she was praised for her singing, or she looked into the dressing room mirror and actually liked what she saw, or she was encouraged to talk about her dream to one day run a puppy farm, her face shone with a happiness that transformed it into something beautiful.

"What do you have there, amazing Grace?" Kurt asked.

"It's a hot chocolate but it's made with skim milk," Grace qualified a little anxiously, as one who was accustomed to answering for her calories. Kurt shrugged nonchalantly, commenting that the full cream tasted better and she should have got extra marshmallows. Grace's eyes widened with awe to find herself in a world where she could eat fattening things in front of other people, instead of chomping down candy bars secretly in her bedroom; her chubbiness owed much to lonely comfort eating.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at her friend who could give the carb breakdown on any item on the menu, but he only answered with his usual supercilious smirk.

"Returning to our previous hot topic," Kurt resumed, "while as your friend I am naturally ecstatic that you feel centred enough to tackle the challenges of motherhood, as the man who receives 12 and a half per cent of everything you make, I have to ask – are you out of your freaking mind?"

Rachel frowned. "There is nothing wrong with taking time out from one's career to start a family."

"Maybe, if you're on a downward spiral, but your career is only looking up. Fleishman's people are starting to talk figures, Rach; figures! This movie will shoot your star right to the top of the A list. The whole world will love you!"

Or hate me, Rachel thought. For a moment she flashed back to high school – the slushies, the pornographic drawings in the girl's bathroom, Jacob Ben-Israel's slanderous blog – she could still vividly remember a time when it seemed like everyone she met disliked her as soon as they met her. It was different here in New York; she had known from the day she arrived that these pushy, overconfident people were her own kind, and they had seemed to acknowledge the kinship as they applauded all her efforts with proud enthusiasm. But what if the rest of America was more like her home town than her adopted city? It was this thought that had her waking up in the middle of the night with her heart going like the Energizer bunny's drum roll. Only when Noah, half asleep, pulled her into his arms and nuzzled her neck soothingly did the anxiety begin to fade.

"Are you a movie star, Rachel?" Grace piped up as she licked chocolate milk off her spoon.

"That is the 5.7 million dollar question," Kurt said with a speaking look at Rachel.

"No, Grace, I'm not a movie star," her new stepmother said firmly. "I'm on Broadway." When Grace looked non-comprehending, Rachel added "I sing and act in musicals."

"Oh, I love musicals! So they actually pay you to sing? That must be the best job in the world." Rachel smiled in agreement.

"It is. Maybe one day you'll be up there with me, Grace. A voice like yours should be shared."

"Really?" Grace squeaked, her eyes somehow getting even wider. "But I'm just a kid and I'm not thin and pretty like you. And I kind of say the wrong things without meaning to…"

"Honey, you are drop dead gorgeous when you smile," Rachel assured her young protégé, "and if you're anything like me, you can't help smiling when you sing. Don't worry about the rest; I myself went through an awkward stage in my youth."

"Wasn't that called 'High School'?" Kurt murmured.

"Silence, traitor." Rachel reached into her handbag and pulled out an I-pod. "Would you like to hear some of my Broadway repertoire, Grace? This is just a little selection I put together from various cast recordings I have participated in."

"Only you would have recordings of your own voice in easy reach," Kurt said as Grace happily inserted the ear buds and started bobbing her head to the music.

"I didn't think our prior discussion was suitable for younger viewers," Rachel explained. When Kurt looked uncomprehending, Rachel continued "You know – about the b-a-b-y."

"Rachel, as deplorable as the public education system is, I think eleven year olds know how to spell 'baby'."

"Shhh!" Rachel shot a quick glance at Grace to see if she was listening in but the girl's eyes were closed as she hummed along to 'Seasons of Love'.

"So, you haven't mentioned your husband's position on the baby referendum. Where does Puck stand on the issue of your attempted career-suicide?"

Rachel pouted at the memory. "Noah is being quite unreasonable about the matter. Whenever I bring it up he refuses to take me seriously and tells me I'll forget all about it as soon as the next big offer comes in. Last night he refused to even talk about it at all – he just started taking my clothes off and..."

"Whoa, whoa, keep it clean," Kurt cried, holding up his hands. "Impressionable children and gay men sickened by hetero displays of affection at the table."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "One, she can't hear us and two, we both know you're just jealous."

"Even so," Kurt admitted, "if Puck doesn't want to throw his little swimmers into your pool, then the whole progeny proposition is moot."

"Um… not necessarily," Rachel said, suddenly having trouble meeting Kurt's eyes. His narrowed suspiciously as he sensed a guilty conscience.

"Rachel? What did you do?" She began fiddling with her teaspoon nervously.

"Well, you see, Noah was so intent last night on distracting me and not letting me talk that I sort of missed the opportunity to tell him that I had yet to take my birth control pill for the night." She met Kurt's shocked face with a twitchy smile. "It's ironic, when you think about it."

"Are you saying you could be…" Kurt gasped.

Rachel nodded solemnly. "It is quite possible I am with child." This earth-shattering news (and a vision of his six-figure commission flying away) distracted Kurt from noticing the look on Grace's face at this point. By unlucky chance, there had been a gap between songs when Rachel had made her announcement. But the adults were too caught up in their own drama to notice Grace, which did not hurt her feelings in the least because she was used to being overlooked by grown-ups. A thrill of excitement crept through her at the thought of having a little brother or sister.

This could be better than the puppies.