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Staccato
Rachel swore that if she kept her eyes closed long enough, she could almost see the translucent blurs of tanned skin from that night, but that not what scares her the most. She could still feel him on her skin. She brushes her hair behind her ear, and the spot where he held it back for her is still tingling on the epidermis. She could still hear him breathing that song in her ear.
"Is it still me that makes you sweat?
Am I who you think about in bed?
When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?"
His fingers were firm and demanding, quickly covering and caressing and gripping every part of her possible. She was merely amorphous clay in his hands at this point, waiting to be sculpted.
"Then think of what you did
And how I hope to God he was worth it.
When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin."
She wanted to think that she couldn't remember a thing, but her hands were just as insistent, just as nimble, as they traveled down his chest, bypassing his cool silver of his nipple ring, to his navel.
"I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck
Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me
Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of
Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat?"
His murmured words were so crass, and yet excited. Her legs clenched in anticipation and it wasn't Puck that was evoking these emotions or touches. They were detached hands, and searing eyes, and a finely toned body encasing her between her sheets.
"No, no, no, you know it will always just be me…"
Rachel was breathing heavily and brought out of her reverie as the briefly lucid memory ended.
She sat in front of her flower-embroidered laptop at her desk, exhaling before clicking on the link that led straight to Jacob's blog. She frowned as her lidded doe eyes gazed onto the doctored mural, one that had her either standing near or talking to every guy in Glee, including Kurt. This was all that was needed to cause a wave of hysteria running through her veins and speculation as she gathered her things and left the choir room. By this time tomorrow, everyone would know her dirty little secret.
Then again, by this time tomorrow, she may not have had a dirty little secret to hide anymore.
Perhaps this was what she should've expected for trying to beat the system. It didn't matter what her intentions were or how much alcohol had imbibe her, it all lead back to sex, which she should've had as a variable in the equation, but then again, why would she? He wasn't someone she would've considered and she was sure that the same went for him twice over. The worst part was that she couldn't really remember the whole night –patches of her own laughter filled her eardrums and his callous fingertips were still penetrating her skin- and she couldn't even say that she was thinking of Finn the whole time. Truth be told, she didn't know what was running through her mind, if anything at all was going through her mind. The night was a complete and utter blur.
And maybe, for her sake, it was better that way. Accepting that she was pregnant was almost all she could bear. The thought of her and Noah Puckerman engaging in sexual activities was too much. It was as if she were dropped in one of Rod Serling's classic screenplays and was made to act out that girl. The girl that would allow herself to be so far out of control that she would do something as inane as be sexually involved with her tormentor. Now all she had to discover was that the baby was some sort of monstrous half-breed, and it would be perfect.
Wait. No, that was the Twilight Saga, not the Twilight Zone. Oops. Whichever it was, it didn't contain any form of music, which deemed it a little less important in Rachel Berry's world.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. She wouldn't spend another moment thinking about this. She had a plan, and now she had to execute it.
It was just…something was aching her. She had finally told him. And it almost scared her, to see how adamant he was about not wanting her to quickly take care of the problem. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be on the other side of the spectrum and it bothered her because where on Earth was the boy who constantly made it his business to humiliate her at any given moment? This…stranger made it his business to follow her into the girl's restroom and aid her at her most vulnerable moment. Where was the boy who pulled on her pigtails when they first met at the synagogue and the boy who had bullied and belittled her throughout junior high, until he decided to up the ante when she finally reached high school.
It was like she never knew him at all. And she was right to think that, considering they've never been friends.
Curiousity was overtaking her slowly, not that it should matter at this point. She had given him her callback card on a whim allowing him the choice to call her if he so chose. Now she was reconsidering that decision, along with all of the other decisions she had been making lately. Laying in the comfort of her sea of sheets and covers, she felt like a child who had just discovered that touching an enabled stove would burn her hand. She had missed most of her extra curricular engagements this week –though she doubted she herself was missed- for the exception of Glee because they truly needed her there with Sectionals impending.
Rachel was used to being alone, doing things on her own, even if she was in a large group. Maybe that was why she demanded each and every solo. Maybe she expected to handle this in the same fashion too and strangely, that didn't affect her. What had truly disappointed her, what had made those tears pool in her eyes, was the fact that she was disappointing so many people in one blow. Her fathers, Mr. Schue, everyone in Glee, Finn…
Herself.
And then the phone rings and her head snaps to it in a daze. She stares at the silver cell phone as it reaches the end of the hook of Defying Gravity, and hesitantly opens it. "Hello, this is Rachel Berry speaking." She hears a baritone chuckle from the other line and nearly blushes in embarrassment. She knew she gave him the number, she just didn't expect for him to dial it.
"I know that, that's why I called the number," Puck quipped, lazily throwing a football into the air from the position on his bed.
She sat up cross-legged and twined a curl of her hair within the confines of her fingertips. "Right. Of course, I'm just being silly. I apologize," She rushed out her clipped answers in a flustered bother and sighed.
Puck caught the ball with one hand and his eyebrow rose. "What're you sorry for? I'm the one who should be saying that for knocking you up."
Rachel's mouth opened, and closed in secession. How do you respond to that? "Well, I thank you for understanding the situation we are now in, even though I am a bit surprised. I…didn't expect you to react in the manner you did."
Puck sat up on his bed, leaning back against the headboard with a considering frown on his face. He scratched his temple, fingering his nunchucks. "How'd you think I'd act?"
"I expected you to be infuriated, actually," She said softly. "I thought you would tell me immediately to get rid of it, not that I had to be told that of course."
His expression darkened at the reminder and he gripped the weapon's handles. "Listen, about that…my offer still stands." The line becomes quiet because both are clueless as how to proceed with this. Rachel looks down at her still toned stomach, rubbing it as if the oncoming bump was already there. She frowns and shakes her head ruefully when Puck breaks the silence. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Absolutely," She replied with conviction. "Having a baby wasn't exactly in my trajectory at this point in time and I have dreams to accomplish long before I even consider having children. We're too young and we're not even married, which would statistically hinder this baby."
"My mom's not married," Puck mentioned off-handedly.
"Your mother's situation is different, Noah. You were not a love child, and I'm sure that your parents cared for one another when you were conceived. We barely know one another, and as much as I appreciate your efforts this afternoon, I just don't see how this would exactly work."
Puck leaned his head back until it hit the headboard with a thud dejectedly, and stared up at his ceiling. "What if it could? Work?"
"It couldn't, Noah," Rachel reiterated.
"But what if it could?" He rebutted, grasping at strings of hope. As it was said, he was an ass. But he wasn't going to let her do this unless she knew that this was what she wanted to do. And he already knew she would be difficult, so he would just have to fight fire with fire as long as he was around.
She sighed, tucking her knees underneath her and kneeling on the bed. "I'm not quite sure, to be honest with you," She replied quietly. "We barely know one another and you can hardly tolerate me, which is understandable considering the fact that I have such high standards, but not for someone who is carrying your child."
"Then let's get to know each other," Puck drawled, settling into his bed.
"You're being very simplistic about this," Rachel cut out tersely.
"And you're treating it like freaking rocket science."
"Because this isn't a simple matter, Noah!" Rachel exclaimed, and then clapped her mouth shut, realizing she had spoken too loud. After a moment of silence and knowing that her fathers didn't hear or acknowledge her outburst, she spoke again. "I'm sorry, but I...I can't. And in any case, I've already told you about myself, so whether or not you took the opportunity to listen was your prerogative. The real enigma is you, so perhaps you should start talking."
Puck lazily swung the weapon slowly in the air, and released a yawn. "My name is Puck, and I like to f-"
"Don't you dare!" Rachel rushed out before he could finish that sentence.
He cocked an eyebrow at her actions. "What? I like to focus on my priorities." He said innocently enough.
She suppressed a growl, her eyelids lowering. "And yet you wonder why this would never work. I just told you that I'm carrying an unborn child today, and you're turning this into a joke."
"It's called lightening the mood, which I think you need right about now." Puck's eyebrow fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, "When are you thinking about…doing the thing."
Rachel blinked, and it took her a moment to comprehend his question. "The abortion?"
Why did she have to say that so damn easily? Like it was like getting a shot, or pulling a baby tooth the resisted to fall out. It was like the time he slushied her with a cherry Big Quench, like seriously slushing the shit out of her, and she just stood there. No tears, no anger, nada. And then she went to the bathroom and went on with her day like nothing happened. Like that hot cyborg from Terminator 3. Tell her that the solo isn't hers, and all Hell breaks loose, but tell her to kill the kid and she's the first one ready with a knife in hand.
But he was the heartless one. Yeah, right.
"Yeah, Berry. The thing." Puck muttered unrelenting, refusing to actually say the word because he didn't want her to believe for a moment that he wanted her to go along with it. "When were you planning on doing it?"
Rachel bites her lower lip and whispers, "Tomorrow." He doesn't say anything for a long moment and she begins to become antsy. She takes the cell phone away from her ear and looks at the screen, seeing that the call is still connected. "Noah?"
"If Israel didn't say shit in the hall today, you wouldn't have told me, right?" He grits out on the other end.
"Do you want the truth?"
Yes. No. Maybe…you know what? Fuck the truth. It's not like he could handle it, but since he knew now what he didn't before, he'd have to step up to the plate and man up. Fast. And the truth was that his seed was in Berry and that deemed her just a little more important in his world. His dad stepped up to the plate once, and then the bastard reneged, so if there was one thing Puck prided himself on was always keeping his word. If Puck said he was going to do something, then he was going to damn well do it. And if Berry couldn't handle that, then she'd better get used to it.
"What time is it for?" Puck asked, ignoring her previous question.
Then she started babbling in a quickness, but he caught the gist of it. 4:30. Center for Choice clinic. Toledo. Four hundred dollars. He'd have to gas up before school in order to have enough for the trip, and he'd have to withdraw at least two hundred dollars.
"Noah, I appreciate this, but you really don't have to!" Rachel protested after Puck made the suggestion to drive her there and cough up half the cash. "Honestly, I expected to deal with this myself-"
"But you. Don't. Have. To." He punctuated each word with a pause in-between. "I got you pregnant, and you know what? I want to be there when they…you know. So swallow your pride, and take it like you take all those leads in Glee. Got it?"
Despite the fact that he couldn't see this, Rachel nodded with fervor, blinking rapidly. "Absolutely. So, we're in agreement with this?"
"Yes."
"And you won't try to deter me from this decision tomorrow?"
Fuck. How'd she know? He put the phone on mute and punched his pillow a few times in frustration. And then threw it out the window. Now he's going to have to go downstairs and get it. Crap. He took the phone off mute after Rachel had called his name again warningly, but fearing that he had actually hung up. He sighed, "No."
"Promise?"
"I don't make promises I can't keep."
"Noah!" She admonished.
He shrugged. Sue him for keeping options open. "You want honest, Berry? I don't know how I'll feel about this day after tomorrow. And I know all about the women's right to chose and shit like that-"
No, he really did. His mom backslapped him when he asked if Roe vs. Wade was a boxing match back in fourth grade. Then, after holding a bag of ice to his stinging cheek, he sat through a lecture filled with years of women's suffrage and sexism and sex a la carté –"That's when women felt empowered enough to rise up and take a stand against men," His mother continued educating a nine year old Puck, dabbing his cheek. "Sex wasn't only for their enjoyment, but the woman's, too."
Puck blinked and looked his mother in the eyes, "Is that why Ms. Mason is so mad all the time?" He asked, referring to his fourth grade teacher, who typically wore a disgruntled expression during class time. And then, his olive eyes brightened with an epiphany. "Maybe that's what she needs! More sex a carté!"
There goes the other cheek. Damn, shouldn't have said shit. But still, learning about sex a la carté turned out to be the building blocks for Puck's interactions with middle-aged women. And far be it from Puck to not give these poor, downtrodden, and sexy-as-fuck-oh-God! women their salvation if he had the goods.
It'd be criminal. An act against God.
"-so if I happen to say some shit tomorrow, just blame it on the hormones."
"But only the woman is affected by hormones." Rachel said, a bit confused.
"No, I hear it passes on to the dudes too. Like a disease, or something."
"Oh," Rachel murmured softly, nodding. "Um, well, thank you. For everything." Rachel looked quickly at her iPod alarm clock, "I should be getting to bed. I must maintain at least seven hours of sleep a night to ensure the health of my vocals as well as my physical appearance."
…And then it hits him. Damn, Rachel Berry has his seed in her. And she needs her sleep to provide. For his seed.
"Yeah, right. Get some sleep, and uh, don't worry so much about this…"
Rachel shut her phone and curled up underneath her covers, turning on her iPod to play the song she used routinely to lull her to sleep, fittingly the title track of Dreamgirls. As she laid her head on her pillow, eyes heavily shutting in on themselves, his last words replayed softly through the recesses of her mind.
"…I got you."
"I-I don't…I can't do this!"
Terri Schuster cried in her older sister's arms, holding the overly soft bulge over her abdomen in place. Kendra stoked her sister's curls soothingly, and then firmly placed her hands on her shoulder, gripping her out of her hysteria.
Kendra shushed warningly, looking back into the kitchen's general area, hoping that Will hadn't heard. "You have to do this!" She whispered, "Because if you don't, imagine what will happen? He'll be all sad and run into some tramp's arms, and probably catch one of those STDs!"
At this, Terri wailed even louder, blue eyes widening frightfully in fear and looking down at her falsely plump stomach. "Oh Kendra…what if I just tell him, you know? Set things right before-"
"Before he throws a hissy fit and turns to drugs and hussies?" Kendra questioned incredulously, brushing back her blonde bangs. "No, I don't think so."
Terri sighed, setting her head in her hands in distress. "What do I do? I can't just…I've tried so hard to get pregnant." She screeched in a whisper.
And it was true. Daily sex with Will until she "started showing". She contemplated going with the scientific approach and somehow attain his sperm from the toilet, but it turned out that it didn't live there too long. And it was far too icky to just…swoop up in there and retrieve it, if you knew what that meant and implied.
And then, after the seventh failed attempt, she sat on the couch with her two favorite men, Ben and Jerry. Watching Lifetime had depressed her to areas unknown. When questioned, she just blamed it on the hormones and cravings. And then wailed to the top of her lungs. Luckily, Will didn't mind too much, considering that he had liked her impressive set of pipes back in high school, despite the fact that they sounded like nails on a chalkboard when she hit her manic stage.
Damn that Juno, and Molly Ringwald, and God forbid, Amy Juergens! How could they produce spawn at fifteen and sixteen, when they didn't even know one thing about life, when she, at twenty-four and completely ready to care for another human being, could not?
Seeing him there, so hopeful and so supportive…she had nearly reached her limit, but luckily, Kendra was there to talk her off the ledge. Right?
"I know, I know," Kendra cooed, looking Terri in the eyes. "Here's what we're gonna do. We…" She paused, a Cheshire grin appearing on her face. "Are going baby hunting."
Terri's tears had subsided and she gave her sister a quizzical glance. "Baby hunting?" She whispered in awe.
"Baby hunting," Kendra reaffirmed. "If you can't make a baby, we're just going to have to hunt for one." She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Terri breathed, "But how are we going to do that? I mean, this isn't like China." She looked at her belly and patted it mournfully; "They don't give away babies like iPods over here."
Kendra rolled her crystalline blue eyes at this admission, "Well, duh Terri. China is filled with all of those…Chinese people, and they're all musically repressed and whatever." She said with a flippant wave of her hand.
Terri's delicate eyebrows furrowed, "But Will has a Chinese girl in his Glee Club-"
"She was born here. In America."
"Right," Terri readily agreed with a slow nod of her head.
Will emerged from the kitchen with both Terri and Kendra's bacon filled sandwiches, which Terri took gratefully and Kendra looked at in distaste, "Is that Canadian bacon?"
Will craned his head questionably, "Yeah, why?"
Kendra's face scrunched up unpleasantly and muttered, "That's Un-American, Will." She snatched the sandwich from his grasp anyways and secured her purse to her side, "Well, I should get going before something terrible happens. Like the boys trying to burn down the house, or something."
Terri nodded in understanding with a soft smile on her face, while Will cocked an eyebrow at the blasé tone her voice took after talking about her sons setting things on fire. As if that's happened before. Then again, he was their uncle, so he felt himself nodding at the statement as well.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Terri." Kendra made a point of saying as she headed out the door, sending her a secret wink which Will fully noticed but ignored because it was Kendra who did it. Terri waved serenely; holding a hand in front of her swelled pad and feeling an invisible weight lift from her shoulders at the thought of her older sister's brilliant idea.
She wakes up with a little less luster than normally, but maintaining her normal regimen to a T has her moving at breakneck pace, hoping for some sort of empowerment to come.
It doesn't.
Instead she's all smiling lies and polite regrets. Her fathers are blissfully unaware –and hopefully, it'll stay that way- but her peaceful slumber has turned into nightmares filled with deja vu and premonitions. The only thing she really had was the fact that Jacob didn't know the true identity of the father, and the only way she could keep up that façade was by throwing him off. The only way she could plausibly throw him off was by being in "cahoots" with every boy, including Kurt, from Glee. The interview with Finn, discussing mash-up ideas with Matt and Mike, showing interest in Artie's electric guitar.
Bumping into Puck wasn't in the original equation, but it seemed to –somewhat- work in her favor she supposed in the long run. Or perhaps it overcomplicated things. She wasn't sure of anything at this point, but she knew that he needed to be told. It was at the very least the right thing to do.
She never thought herself capable of something so devious beforehand, but as Quinn thought of what Jesus would do, Rachel thought of what Quinn would do.
And she promised that she would never entertain those sinful thoughts again. They landed her in far too much trouble for what they were worth and they would surely turn her into someone unrecognizable. So, she makes amends by apologizing to Finn that very morning.
"But…" Finn scratches his temple lightly. "I still don't understand why you did it, Rachel. It just doesn't seem like you," He says honestly, and she averts her eyes in shame.
"I know," She mumbles. "I just didn't know if you could act as honestly knowing rather than not knowing." She looks up at him, hoping for him to empathize, "If I could take it back, I would, but unfortunately, Jacob has seen fit to actually post every bit of information he has without steady confirmations-"
"But why, Rachel?" Finn reiterates and Rachel bows her head. He draws closer, handing her by her shoulders with his larger hands, "You can tell me anything."
She raises her head and his brown eyes are so earnest, so firm in his sentiment, that she cannot help but to trust him. She feels like Maria frozen in a moment with a beautiful boy within her grasp, "I'm…pregnant." The words spill out, washing over Finn's expression like cement, heavy and slow. He slightly inches back, just a centimeter or two, and she is painfully reminded that Finn has no stake in this, and therefore probably didn't even care.
"That's…great." He says, weakened smile garnishing his features and a hand resting at the crown of his head. She smiles, thankful at his lie because this was most certainly not great. She wonders how many times she smiled at his lies, but then again, he lied for her yesterday, intentionally or not and the fact that he didn't run to Jacob as soon as she revealed this was enough.
The silence afterward becomes too much to bare and she's sure that Quinn may have been waiting for the right moment to strike, so she hastily waves goodbye and they part ways for the day, which she's sure Finn's thankful of and that just depresses her even more. Two months ago, he was just unattainable, and now that this has happened she was unwanted.
Eight weeks, one day, and approximately eleven hours.
She briefly touched her still flat abdomen and headed into the cafeteria toward the slushy machine. That was the amount of time she was tied to Puck without even knowing it. If she couldn't have Finn, then she should at least try to be cordial with Puck, even if it were for the day. Luckily, Glee wasn't today, but she could feel the stares from Tina and Artie, hear the whispers of Kurt and Mercedes, and see the Cheerios jeer and laugh. Even Matt and Mike fell quiet when she passed them in the hall in her search of Puck with a Big Quench in hand.
The triumvirate of cheerleaders stops her. Quinn's staring her down, and looking at her midsection, "Is it Finn's?"
Rachel's surprised by the question and her eyes widen. "Of course not." It's silent for a few tense moments, Quinn deciding whether or not to believe her as Santana looks her up and down in annoyance and Brittany takes the flank in support. Their eyes dart to the slushy held in front of Rachel curiously and her eyes dart to the drink in hand as well before turning her stare back to them. As far as the school hierarchy goes, the one with the slushy in hand held the power, so if they were considering to something of consequence, she could at least defend herself for the most part. Rachel adds, "It's no one you are all currently involved with."
"But it's someone we were with before?" Santana juts her chin out, and Rachel nods. A moment of understanding passes and the Latina's eyes narrow before a scathing smile breaks upon her face, "I'm so glad I dumped his ass." She says as she walks away, "I knew he liked sex, but that's just pathetic."
If Rachel couldn't feel her heart constrict, she would've laughed at the irony since he said those same words that night. As it is, she blinks rapidly and the cheerleaders depart, giving Rachel the room to continue.
She sees Puck at his locker in the middle of the hall and grips the large cup nervously, feeling its sweat numb her fingers as she's never spoken to him in school with this many people as witnesses, or barely at all. He slams his locker and she on the other side, outstretching the drink with a tentative smile on her face, not quite sure on how to proceed.
Puck cocks his eyebrow and she explains. "It's a cherry slushy."
He looks down at the drink and then back at her and she's still holding it out. "I can see that, Berry."
"I figured that it was your favorite, considering that it was the flavor you first doused me with when we began high school," She calmly states and surprisingly, he takes it instead of usurping it in her face and takes a sip. He smirks, licking his lips without taking his amused eyes off of her.
Not that she noticed the movement, or anything.
And when he slings an arm around her shoulders, she doesn't fight him off, oddly enough.
First off, props to the fics and authors who made it on Kiss. Me. Pink's list (and two just so happened to be on mine). Hmm, a rap euphemism comes to mind, "When one of the homies make it, we all make it dawg!" Okay, you can throw tomatoes at me now.
Second, reviewers are a girl's best friends. Really, I just can't stop reading the comments sometimes, and they really do keep me going. So thanks go to Desda, Hips, Literati Lover, -lalatina15-, mag721, babs08 (Your promised fic is coming!), Pagan-Angel13, tilda for setting me straight (You know, I shouldn't have made him so biased…), and countless others. Promise the next installment will be sooner.
Unfortunately, this isn't the whole chapter so it's a bit disappointing. On the other hand, I feel bad to have been withholding this for so long, even though it's more like a trailer. Gah, project/paper week sucks.
Oh, klcthenerd, I caught that Puck/Rachel vid on YouTube! I really liked the concept of it, passion and violence…yummy.
And yes, Puck + Mr. Clean = Hot crossover slash covered in bubbles. And nothing else.
Song featured: Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have (Without Taking her Clothes Off) by Panic! At the Disco. Next time: Another dream sequence, the diabolical duo's diabolical plan begins, and a decision is made.
DAC