Title: Empty Chairs At An Empty Table

Author: lil-miss-chocolate

Rating: This chapter, PG.

Characters: Kurt, Puck, Mercedes, Rachel, Quinn, Tina, Artie, Will, Emma, Sue, Figgins (briefly), Burt (referenced but no appearance), Jesse (referenced but no appearance).

Pairings: Kurt/Puck is the main one, the rest are a little intricate.

Genre: Crime/Romance

Warnings: Various character deaths, some angsty stuff, some smut, and some sickeningly fluffy stuff.

Spoilers: None

Summary: An AU 1920's murder mystery featuring the Glee club (and assorted friends and relatives).

Disclaimer: I don't make the toys, I just play with them. And the idea of a 1920's murder mystery belongs to an anon on the Glee Kink Meme.

Word Count: ~18,000 in total. Chapters vary. Seventh chapter: ~1,100

Beta: Slash_Pl0x. He saved this story from my incapable hands and made it fab, so much love to him.


Chapter 7/13

Meanwhile, Kurt had gently taken Finn's arm and led him to his bedroom. Finn's valet had been laying out his clothes for the next day. He looked up, surprise registering on his face as he took in his employer's haggard expression. "Mr. Hudson… Mr. Hummel," he acknowledged their entrance and awaited instruction.

"He's had a rather nasty shock. Would you please help him to bed?"

"Of… of course, sir. Wha—" he had cut himself off, realising he was speaking out of turn.

Finn spoke for the first time since he had left the linen cupboard, "I… I just don't understand. Rachel…" He had trailed off.

"I know. Try to sleep, Finn. You'll see things clearer in the morning."

Finn nodded as his valet approached, who had spoken reassuringly to Kurt. "You can leave him with me, sir. I'll make sure he's alright."

Kurt smiled weakly at him, nodded his thanks, and then went downstairs to find his stepmother in her study. She looked up as he entered then moved her attention back to her work as she spoke.

"Oh, hello there, ladyface. What do you want?"

"I thought you might like to know that Rachel Berry was murdered. Didn't you hear Emma's scream when she found the body?"

"Is that what that was? I thought someone had kicked you in the groin. Either that or your voice had finally broken and you were screaming for joy."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I just thought you'd like to know. Mr. Puckerman and Mercedes are going to come and interview you at some point tomorrow morning."

"Mercedes? That big mouthed diva? Why on Earth should she be doing interviews?"

"She's got a rock solid alibi. Unlike you. You stormed out of dinner, expressing an obvious dislike for the victim. Doesn't look so hot for you, does it?"

"I have an obvious dislike for everyone. If I was going to murder anyone, it would have been you, and they never would have found the body. I don't know why I haven't already."

Kurt inspected his nails during this rant, feigning complete disinterest. "Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow," he said, before leaving the room and making his way up to his bedroom (candelabra gripped tight in his hand, just in case).

"So what's going on between you and my boy?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, you were making eyes at each other all evening, then the two of you were conveniently searching the floor where Kurt's bedroom is when we all split up."

"I... um..." Puck floundered, not used to his sexuality being so easily accepted and most definitely not used to talking about it.

"Look, its okay that you two want to be together. I just want to warn you now - break his heart, and I will break you in half. I will castrate you and cut you and beat you to the floor. He's been hurt too many times before by idiots who cleared off as soon as they got into his pants. Are we clear?"

He nodded fervently.

"Good. Have a nice night!" with that, she vanished into her room, leaving Puck standing in the hallway, somewhat confused. He shook himself and headed upstairs.

Puck knocked softly at Kurt's bedroom door, not wanting to disturb him if he was already sleeping.

"Come in!" Kurt's clarion voice rang from inside.

Puck entered the room, revealing Kurt standing by his bed in pale blue silk pyjamas, a small mother-of-pearl handled pistol in his hand aimed at the floor by Puck's feet. "Oh, it's only you," Kurt sighed with relief and dropped the Browning 1910 onto his bedside table. "Much as I enjoy practicing with my Browning on the range, I wasn't looking forward to actually having to use it in self defence."

Puck grinned at him and walked over to envelop the slim man in his arms. "There's no need for that now. No one's going to hurt you. They wouldn't dare take on the mighty Puckerman!" he joked.

Kurt smiled into his chest, arms wrapped around the bigger man's waist. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Looking after me. I know I put on this brazen exterior, but it's nice to have someone looking out for you. Especially when there's a murderer on the loose."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Puck said, trying and failing to smother a yawn as he spoke.

Kurt chuckled. "I think perhaps going to bed might be sensible. I can't imagine that tomorrow's going to be much fun; you'll need some sleep. And I always need my beauty sleep."

"You're already beautiful, babe, but you're right. Sleep would be a very good thing right now."

They clambered themselves into Kurt's vast king size bed, disposing of most of Puck's clothing on the way. They were cuddling together under the sheets when a thought occurred to Kurt.

"I left the room after Rachel; I had the opportunity. I could be the murderer for all you know."

"Are you?"

"Of course not!"

"Well then."

"You trust me? Just like that?"

"We've been writing to each other for six months now. I know you better than most."

"True… but still…" Kurt marvelled at the other man's trust.

"And anyway, what motive could you have? You hardly knew her. It's far more likely someone who actually knew her well and actively disliked her enough to kill her." Puck placed a kiss onto Kurt's softly fragranced hair. "I really care about you, Kurt."

Kurt rested his head on the taller man's shoulder. "Thank you. Although I still think you don't know me well enough—I might be lying to you right now," he said, snuggling into Puck's side.

Puck smiled. "But you aren't, are you?"

"No."

They fell asleep curled in each other's arms.

They were not the only ones to do so: Tina and Artie Abrams were sharing a bed (Tina pretending to be afraid of the murderer, Artie pretending to believe her), and Will had risked Figgin's ire by sneaking up to the female servants' quarters to curl up with Emma. Mercedes, unflappable as always, slept like a log. Quinn had tossed and turned, unable to get off to sleep. Finn just held a pillow tight in his arms, weeping softly until he finally managed to drift off. Sue took her usual tablets and slept the whole night through.