TurnTable
And Add the Chorus…
His eyes opened under his thick follicles and the room was filled with smoke, which should've sent him into a panicked state because of his flaring asthma and the fact that he was in an empty classroom which could've indicated that the school was burning down, but all thought vacated his mind when Rachel Berry emerged from the cloudy wisps in a metallic silver mini dress that flared at the hem. She had a vibrant smile that tugged on her lips and she looked absolutely ethereal, like some angel-princess-sex goddess and oh my God, he thinks he just saw her gold star encrusted underwear!...
She opened her mouth and a mantra of melodies and syllables poured from her mouth. Jacob mewled in her wake, practically salivating and bouncing in his seat.
"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah...
"I know that you've been waiting for me,
And I'm waiting too..." She came to directly in front of him on the other side of the table and promptly began climbing upon it, outstretching her arms wantonly. Jacob reached for her superfluously and her hands came to rest on his face.
"In my imagination,
"I be all up on you," She cooed. Her smile widened, becoming nearly manic and he began to breath irregularly in anticipation. A thermometer appeared in her hands out of thin air and when he opened his mouth in amazement, she stuck the mercury filled bud under his tongue.
"I know you got that fever for me, hundred and two,
"And boy, and I know I feel the same,
"My temperature's through the roof-"
Jacob was in a universe of bliss and sensation. Rachel Berry's almond eyes, cherry lips, and chestnut hair filled his vision and she looked just like that girl from the Black Eyed Peas. Only with a bigger nose, and more Jewish, which was just how he liked them. As a young, testosterone filled Jew bursting his top with physical need, he had a duty to please that Jewish booty.
"If there's a camera up in here,
"Then it's going to leave with me,
When I do, I do..." She continued with a falsely reprimanding tone, though the feral look in her eyes was begging him to shoot her from all angles. He released a swooning wheeze as he leaned in closer to her face, his lips nearly touching hers until she sang the next verse.
"If there's a camera up in here,
"Then I'd best not catch this flick on YouTube, YouTube.
"'Cause if you run around,
"And brag about this secret rendezvous,
"I will hunt you down..." Rachel purred menacingly and Jacob recoiled until that delightful smirk returned back to her face. God, it was hot when she was threatening in that crazy I'd-sell-your-soul-to-the-highest-bidder way for what she wanted. His breaths began coming out in short bated intervals and he took off his glasses, cleaning away the fog on his cardigan.
"'Cause baby, I'm up in my business like a Wendy interview,
"See this is private, between you and I…
"Touch my body-
"Throw me on the floor-
"Wrestle me around-
"Play with me some more-
"Touch my body-
"Throw me on the bed-
"I just want to make you feel like you never did,
"Touch my body..."
She finally had reached her destination, crawling off of the table and unto his lap. She grinned doing so and flicked his nose playfully with her index finger. "Let me wrap my thighs, all around your waist,
"Just a little taste...
"Touch my body-
"Do you love my curves?
"Come on, and give me what I deserve-
"And touch my body..."
"Touch my body," Jacob sang absently, running his hands on the flat plains of his chest. Rachel cleared her throat to remind him of other presences in the room and Jacob looked up, bewildered, until he realized that Rachel was no longer an ethereal seductress, but just the plain old diva in full preppy gear.
Crap. Just a dream.
He made a sound through his nose in embarrassment and muttered a nasally, "Sorry."
The old tape recorder slid across the faux wood-like surface and Jacob grinned in anticipation, feeling a bit like Barbara Walters.
Only a guy, not as ancient, and more Jewish.
Rachel sat in front of the dark afroed boy with a quaint prim smile and she straightened her cardigan before clearing her throat. The boy next to her scratched his head and looked around the empty classroom, as the camera was set up adjacent from their seats. The red light flickered on and the lens cap was removed to fully view the young couple and Jacob.
Rachel gave the boy sitting next to her a reassuring glance before turning back to the freckled faced reporter, and began her somber faced façade.
As much as she detested liars and people who used the system for their own deplorable ends, she couldn't help stretching the truth for the greater good. For instance, the time when that sub-par baritone received the solo well-earned to her, and she reported the former Glee moderator of sexual molesting, which was mostly true since he did touch him on his abdomen and it truly was sickening to watch him butcher that solo like USDA Prime Rib.
The nerve.
In any case, she promised Jacob an exclusive, and an exclusive was just what he was about to receive.
After their meeting in the hallway, she had the inner cogs in her mind circulating as to how to rectify this situation, make Jacob's famed blog known as a fictitious piece of trash, and keep whatever being developing in her uterus hidden all before lunch.
It was simple, really.
She instantly made her way to the first destination, taking a deep breath before opening the door to the boy's locker room. She squared her shoulders and walked through, making sure to keep herself poised while not taking a breath in fear of fainting due to the sulfurous fumes. The boys in there halted their movements, staring at her as she walked through as though they've never seen a girl once in their existence. The distinct click clack of her shoes could be heard in the stilled silence and she approached his locker cautiously before announcing herself. "Hi, Finn."
The boy looked around bewilderedly, still pulling his William McKinley sweatshirt over his head. Finally, his head emerged and he gave the smaller girl a surprised grin, "Hey, Rachel. What're you doing in here?"
She smiled in response, "I need your help with something."
His eyebrows furrowed. "Right now? I kind of have weight-lifting…"
"Oh, I promise this won't take long," Rachel appealed to him. "I simply need your testimonial concerning our child." She sighed internally, if only she could show this much bravado toward Puck.
They stood in the empty classroom, minutes before Jacob arrived with Finn still scratching his head in a daze. "Um, Rachel? I don't know how to tell you this, but Quinn's my girlfriend…and we've never had sex."
Already predicting his answer, Rachel held out her palm and within it lay a small, white egg. With a pink bow on it's top. "It's a project," She explained. "Everyone else was taken, so the teacher allowed me to pick someone from outside of class."
Finn's face lit up at the prospect, completely believing Rachel with every word said. He took the egg from her hand and cradled it softly, a crooked smile gracing his features. "Syrup."
Rachel's face contorted in puzzlement. "Excuse me?"
"We should call her Syrup!" Finn exclaimed, becoming fond of the idea, "Because she's smooth and sweet, and she'd probably have your eyes, which are big and brown and remind me of Mrs. Buttersworth. Plus it's like, exotic, you know? Special." He whispered the last word in awe and Rachel's heart warmed at the thought of him having such a gesture, even if it was just an egg he was referring to.
"That's a lovely name, Finn." She said softly, and as far as she was concerned, he could've named the egg Puck and she wouldn't have cared.
Now, they say dutifully in front of Jacob, Rachel already with her lines rehearsed and Finn as the supporting male role. All that had to be done now was make a convincing enough performance and then report the blog for slander and discredit his site. Her eyes watered necessarily and she began to dib-dab with the napkin withdrawn from her pocket.
Jacob snorted a laugh of glee and spoke into his microphone gravelly, "Finn Hudson, star quarterback of William McKinley and long-time boyfriend of Quinn Fabray, is it true that you and Rachel Berry are with child?" He shoved his microphone onto Finn's lips. Rachel had to admit she was impressed; if she didn't detest the little weasel in his attempts to fondle her, ruin her name, and degrade her very being, she might have found him to be very professional.
Finn spoke confidently into the microphone, "Yes, it is."
"And is it true that you engaged in this sordid affair right under Quinn's nose?" He asked in a nasally tone and Finn's eyebrows furrowed once more.
"Actually-"
"I initiated it," Rachel answered quickly, cutting across Finn's comment without sparing him a glance.
Jacob turned to Rachel, "And where exactly did this seduction of sorts take place? Obviously, you will not take part in the Chastity Ball this year."
"In actuality, I would like to attend and personally apologize to Quinn Fabray," Rachel said remorsefully, beady pubescent tears streaking her face. "I, for one, am sincerely ashamed of my actions and would hope that she does not reprimand Finn for my outlandishly promiscuous ways. After my outburst at the Chastity Club, it shows how absolutely hypocritical I am to talk of teenagers using contraceptives when I myself couldn't do the same!" Sobs wracked the young actress' body and Finn looked at her like she just said she was a cyborg.
Jacob nodded stonily, still maintaining his professional mask. "Well said, Rachel. Well said." He turned to the camera, face now alight in speculative joy, "Tune in next time as the Baby Mama Drama unfolds! How will Quinn Fabray react now that the harlot known as Rachel Berry confessed? Will she break up with Finn? And what about the demon seed growing with Rachel's va-jay-jay?"
Finn's mouth fell open, "Hey, wait a minute-"
And then, following pro quo, Rachel slapped him. "How dare you just sit there like a slack faced dimwit while we're undergoing this ordeal? You should be ashamed of yourself." Rachel seethed, and nosily stepped out of the classroom, wiping the tears from her face.
Hook, line, and sinker.
She sighed in a moment of rare contentment, admonishing herself for treating Finn in such a manner without him deserving it, but being the kind and forgiving person he was, she was sure that if she explained the situation later, that he would be more empathic. That, and the opportunity to halt the reports on Jacob's blog crossed her mind as well.
She was about to turn down the main hall, when Jacob came, rambling behind her. "We're not done as of yet!"
Taking a calming breath, she would not let him ruin her moment of jubilation. "Jacob Israel, I have given you the interview you have been dying to obtain from me-"
"And I'm still underwearless," Jacob hacked out with a predatory grin. Rachel's left eye twitched.
Drat.
"I'm waiting," He hummed in a mocking singsong pitch and Rachel felt the sensation of bleeding ears for the first time.
"Well, Jacob," She began a bit smugly. "This isn't a condition I could very well commit to in the hallways, now is it? This requires a bit of privacy."
And then the phrase, 'going commando' comes to mind and she nearly wants to vomit.
Double drat.
His arms are crossed and he's pounding the marble tile below impatiently and Rachel's resisting the urge to bite her fingernails, as the habit was highly unhygienic and definitely something to be looked down upon for a future starlet such as herself. And then, he pulls out his cell phone and as it ascends closer into view, her jaw slacks as she realizes that the offending mock-up is still in existence. Surely he would've deleted it upon hearing that he was granted an exclusive!
"Wrong," Jacob breathed, his grin growing perilously wide. "You didn't think I would just trust you, right?" He pocketed his cell phone and outstretched his empty palm. "Until those panties drop and I have them curled in my hands, I'm keeping this mock-up as well as any new mock-ups I make in the future until then. I'm considering it withheld collateral."
"You can't do that," She murmured, eyes flickering to his front pants pocket. "That's slander, posting information you know to be false."
"Or is it?" He retorted, a skeptical glint entering his eyes. "How do I know that this so called 'exclusive' wasn't contrived? Because Finn Hudson picking you over Quinn Fabray is like…choosing a quickie over a threesome!"
As much as that statement nearly made her shirk away due to how it was bluntly said and who was saying, it was still bruising all the same and Rachel placed her arms over her midsection self consciously.
"It's too bad though," Jacob continued aloud. "You're not wearing a skirt today, so I guess easy access is out."
Just…no, do not dignify that with a response.
"What can I do, other than relinquishing my undergarments to you, to stop you from posting anything?"
"Well," Jacob began, pushing his glasses back to his hilt and popping his collar, moving closer. "I do have the urge to merge."
Rachel's eyebrows puckered upward and she backed in response. "Not now, not ever…ever. And furthermore, there won't be a father, period. Not after this weekend. So go ahead and post whatever trash you choose on your insignificant blog because at the end of the day no one truly cares about the perspective of an outcast. They'll laugh and then it'll all be forgotten. So maybe you should stop being concerned with personal lives of others, and start being concerned about yours."
She turns on her heel, proud of herself for maintaining her composure and justifying her statement.
And then it is all ruined by her ill-perceived disregard for the fact that the hallway is just big enough to not run into someone else upon turning a corner to go to Glee.
Especially when that someone is the father of your child.
And now she is childishly avoiding eye contact because really, she just cannot deal with him right now. By this time tomorrow, she would have no reason to act this way around him. But for now…
She opens her mouth to apologize, but in the empty hall, she hears an electronic beep and she turns around to see Jacob standing a few feet away from her and Puck. That manic smile is idiotically etched on his face as he held up cell phone with mobile web connection and her heart drops to the pit of her solar plexus.
"Heh, now everyone will be wondering who the baby daddy is on my insignificant blog, won't they Rachel?" He throws his head back in a cackle, pockets his phone, and stalks away in the other direction. His retreating footsteps rhythmically match the pounding of her heartbeat in her eardrums.
A hand lands over her cardigan sleeve and Rachel stills as Puck's breath tickles her ear lobe.
"So, who is the baby daddy, Berry?"
And…Happy Thanksgiving everyone! :D Part deux of chapter three.
First of all, my reviewers are super-duper-awesome-lovely-wicked-and all other adjectives synonymous to amazing…
God, I sound like an English freak…oh, wait…
"Um. If it is ~your~ birthday, than why are we getting the gift?" –babs08
That was just…brilliant. I laughed for two whole minutes. And then stopped when I realized I was the only one laughing. :O I'm just an, erm, nice person like that. But it was funny when I went to eat my face off, and it turned out that about 7 people were sung to everywhere we went. My life became Glee for my birthday. What an awesome gift. Just like my reviewers, alerters, favers, luckers. ;)
""So, ah, why'd u stop slushing?" (Obviously u should be you.)" –Boingy
Funfact: I text majority of the chapters from my cellphone to my e-mail, and I guess spellcheck didn't catch it. Darn. Thanks for telling me! I should've proofed better.
"…every time I come across one of these stories, either the author is so against it that they have the character against it or for the sake of the story they decide to keep the baby." –blue18eyes
To your first point, never. I abhor self-inserts. And to your second point, IF the baby were to be kept, it would be for other reasons besides 'saving the story'. The challenge WAS named babymamadrama, for a reason. ;)
"Wouldn't she just say I am not pregnant and if he runs the story then she would have him arrested for stalking..." -blue18eyes
To your question, it would be slander if it was posted, and harassment if she filed it. But cyber slander is common, so it most likely wouldn't be taken seriously. If he were to prove that she was pregnant, then he couldn't be arrested for...erm, obtaining that info. As disgusting as it is, it's not breaking a law to snoop through trash. Yuck. Now I think I took it too far...
"I can't tell you how much I love your super creepy Jacob!" –Hips
I feel kind of guilty, considering he isn't THIS creepy on the show. Oh well…:)
"And as a big poetry fan, I so loved these lines: "so he shut her up with his mouth. And opened her up with his hands."...absolutely poetic." –Desda
I love poetry too! Darn it, my English-freakiness is showing… ;)
"…we are both scorpios!" –Luna Moon-star writer
Scorpios RULE. End of story. Which makes me wonder if Rachel and/or Puck are Scorpions as well…
"Sometimes I'm a little confused as to what is real-time and what is a memory, just saying…" –mag721
Completely understandable, and thank you for telling me. Italics is usually a past reference, and everything else isn't. I'm attempting to keep the format as they do it on the show, so it's a bit tricky at times. XD
So, the competition is tense because EVERYONE IS WRITING AWESOME STORIES. Like Riding In Cars With Boys by alien09. Dude. And if Shaay officially enters the contest, then we're all screwed. All of us. But it's all in good fun. :D Song featured was "Touch My Body" by Mariah Carey. And, is it funny that Juno came on as I was writing this?
DAC
Sneak Peek
Last Night's Dream:
He walked up in Berry's house again, except straight to the kitchen this time and when he raked his hand across his scalp, there was no hair. Ordinarily, he'd be getting pretty pissed at this point, but it was a dream, so it's whatever.
Then he looked down at the kitchen floor and Berry was sprawled out in all Betty Crocker gear. The frilly white apron, the peach colored dress, the whole nine yards. Even the place smelt like chocolate cake. Yeah, even though this was a freaking dream, Puck took it all in because believe it or not, dreams made a lot more sense than real-life.
At least in his world.
Anyways, he looked down, and he was wearing a starch white muscle shirt, which, hey, he wore that type of shit on a daily bases. Except his mind could only come to one conclusion. If Berry in all of her prissy glory was beckoning him to get down on the kitchen floor with her and a peanut butter cookie in hand as the bribe, which also told him this was a dream because no matter how many tap, ballet, or singing trophies and metals she had plastered in her room, she still didn't cook. Ever.
But if she was Betty Crocker and he was wearing a white shirt with a shaved head, this could only mean that he was Mr. Clean.
Fuck.