Chapter 5
The Ill Conceived Retaliation
Note: There's a date jump in this chapter, I marked them, but I just wanted to give a heads up.
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*Monday Night*
Five minutes with Lauren Zizes was long enough for Mike to figure out that he wasn't going to achieve any of his goals. The girl was a rock, completely unbothered by anything he tried to throw at her. Every comment, every spastic motion, every unjustified, bizarre accusation was met with an amused smile and absolute silence (and if it wasn't that it was a smart comment that sent Mike into a fiery rampage anew). He hadn't really thought he would get anything from her (because he had no idea what she could possibly share about Puck's epic amount of stupidity that he didn't already know) but he had at least thought…you know, he could provoke her a little bit.
Yet she remained unfazed, and he couldn't quite bring himself to be terrible enough of a person to make up outright lies to get Puck in trouble.
Damn him and his noble tendencies.
Minute by minute Mike was losing his steam, and sooner or later he would end up curled in the fetal position against Lauren's wall, collapsed in a fit of depression and spilling out the miserable facts of his life to his best friend and arch nemesis' girlfriend. Maybe he should just cut and run before he had to endure that humiliation.
Sam had yet to make any sort of contribution since the conversation had started, more or less it seemed like he was doing his very best to become a part of Zizes' furniture, willing himself into an absolute stillness that would have made statues proud. Mike almost felt bad for dragging the blond along, really the only reason he had brought Sam was because he wanted a witness if Lauren decided to brush off some of her wrestling moves on him. If Mike had known she was going to be so…chill with this whole experience he wouldn't have even bothered the other teen.
Weird though, Mike would have thought displeasure would have been her initial reaction to his sudden appearance.
Despair edging in, he collapsed beside Sam onto the bed, resting his head in his hands while Zizes made an appreciative humming sound that frazzled his nerves into a new state of…frazzlement.
Yeah, this was not going well.
Across the room, in a chair Mike had set up similar to Puck's interrogation (though that was more of a gut feeling because in the video it had been overturned on the floor along with a majority of Tina's furniture), Zizes' hum turned into an amused laugh that skirted on the edge of maniacal, and Mike summoned up enough energy so that he could properly glare at her.
"You throwing in the towel Chang?" she asked, un-cliché and totally heartfelt evil glint in her eye. He was shaking his fist at her before he could really process it, and her laugh brought back the net of depression that had hovering over him like a frowny face storm cloud. Valiantly, he fought the urge to do some furniture toppling himself.
She frowned, mock-offended. "I expected a little more from you."
The taunt struck a sore spot within him (like just about everything else she'd done) and Mike was on his feet in an instant, hands clenching and unclenching in indecision because he really hadn't planned any farther then "must stand up".
Zizes laughed again, finding humor in his predicament.
"Well," she began when the laughing died down (god he hated the laughing). "If you're quite finished, I've got a few questions for you."
Mike really shouldn't let this happen, because (in Puck's words) he was the badass in charge here and letting the interogee ask questions ever should not be considered an option. Still, everything else had pretty much failed, and Lauren had been pretty reasonable about this entire exchange (except for the massive damage she had dealt to his ego), so Mike sighed and gave her a helpless shrug, collapsing beside Sam once more while the blond sent him sympathetic looks, patting his arm in a hesitant display of brotherhood and reluctant caring.
"Whatever," Mike mumbled, sending Sam a silent thanks via thumbs up. "I don't care anymore."
Zizes smiled like a cat that finally gotten her mouse and Mike began to think that the eerie feeling of doom building up in his stomach was more than completely justified.
"Well I'm sure you've been asked this plenty of times," Lauren began; focus completely on his person, unnerving Mike further with the subtle deranged feel of it. "But I know that Sammy and I here are just dying to know what my hunk of a manchop has done to make you so…like him."
She stopped, waiting patiently for her answer, and Sam (the damn turncoat) tried and failed to hide his anticipation, being very unsuccessful in his "casual" staring.
Mike growled and ran his hands through his hair, frustrated.
"You mean aside from the fact," he started, trying to remain calm. "That he keeps calling me a girl?" (Because he was not a girl and did not act like one, no matter what Puck said). "Or how about the fact he somehow managed to provoke my girlfriend just enough to attack him and angry enough she refuses to talk to me?"
Mike stood up suddenly, nervous energy building up. He forced his feet to stay glued to the ground because if he started pacing he was just one snide comment away from assaulting someone. "How about the fact that he refuses to show me even the tiniest amount of respect, even though I have always been cool to him?"
His toe was tapping and he kept shifting his weight from side-to-side, he started wringing his hands so as to avoid letting them do anything unpleasant.
"Or how about the fact," he started up again, glaring at the floor, "That he flat out refuses, refuses to apologize in any way for the incident that started this whole mess in the first place!"
The world was moving around him and Mike realized with a start that his feet had decided to take initiative without his brain's consent and were already etching wild circles into Zizes' floor. Well whatever, more power to them. He couldn't really bring himself to care.
He stopped suddenly, turning to stare Sam in the eye. "Did you know that we got mugged while we were searching for that stupid accordion? Yeah, he decided we should rap for money and then we actually lost money because he put some more in that stupid hat!"
Sam was confused, mouthing "what hat?" to Zizes just as she was mouthing "What accordion?" but Mike didn't stop.
"And then he's all, 'Stop being such a girl, Mike' and 'Stop making a scene Mike' and he doesn't even bother telling me there's a cop there just waiting to drag me off to jail!" He paused, looking back and forth between them wildly. "Who does that?"
Mike stopped, gazing out the window, trying to make himself take deep, calming breaths and that cursed humming started up again. He was about to just give up and grab Sam so they could get the hell out of dodge when Lauren started talking again, clearing her throat in a way that was not all that surprising considering the amount of arrogance she had displayed so far.
What she said however, that was a whole different story.
"I'm sensing a lot of sexual tension here," she declared after a moment of hesitation, and Mike's brain ground to a jerking halt. His breath caught in his throat and he gave off a startled gurgle/cough thing that was just loud enough to break Sam out of his own shock and send the dancer a concerned look.
Meanwhile Zizes just sat there, completely impassive. Mike tried to make his voice come back so that he could tell her the multitude of things that were wrong with that statement but then the idea of "Puck + sex" really hit him and he was forced to claw desperately at his eyes in a poor attempt to get that mental image out of his head.
By the end of it Mike was just proud that he didn't completely fall apart then and there in a whimpering puddle of utter dejection.
"I have a girlfriend!" he announced, thrusting up his fist in triumph as though this was an indisputable fact (when at the moment that was actually highly debatable) that completely disproved her entire argument.
Lauren nodded slowly, accepting his conjecture but by no means backing down because of it. "I'm not arguing that happy feet, I'm sure you and Elvira's relationship is going just as smoothly as me and my super stud's, but that doesn't change the fact that there is a lot of unresolved tension that's culminating between the two of you that I believe stems from an unaddressed attraction."
His brain would never recover from this. Ever. He would forever be scarred.
When did Lauren start sounding like Rachel? And shouldn't she be more upset about this?
No, thinking like that was like admitting she was right and she wasn't even kind've right, she was so, so, so wrong because this had nothing to do with man sex and had everything to do with Puck being a gigantically humongous dipwad.
Oh god, now Mike was able to think things like 'man sex' and not even gag.
This was all Puck's fault.
There was an almost sympathetic look in Lauren's eye when Mike gathered up the courage to glance her way (like just looking at her would be enough encouragement for her to go into intimate detail on how he and Puck should-ohgodhisbrainnoooo).
"I think you just need to give into temptation and get it out of your system," she decided, nodding her head in approval. "Preferably where Tina and I can watch."
"My brain is melting," Mike complained, mourning this fact to two people who obviously didn't care (well, Sam could care, but he appeared to have long since thrown in the towel on this conversation and was doing his very, very best to take his mind to anywhere but here).
"I know," Zizes tried to console (as though Mike could take consolation from the monster who seemed more than willing to force him into nonconsensual relations with her moron of a boyfriend). "It's a lot to take in at once."
This was like some bad sitcom he couldn't escape from.
"I don't want to make out with your boyfriend!" Mike yelled, gesturing at Zizes in what he hoped was an intimidating fashion, but the amused face was back (with hints of Sue Sylvester evil) and Mike felt a foreboding chill run up his spine.
"Then why is your face all red?" Lauren asked, taunting levels at maximum, and Mike glared at her, standing his ground (the ground that was quickly crumbling away from underneath him in the most pathetic of manners).
"From anger!" he shouted back, and then hung his head, sadly kicking his feet. "And despair."
Oh, the despair.
"It only gets worse if you try and deny it."
There was a taunting ring in her tone when she replied which may or may not be the reason Mike responded immediately without really putting any thought into what he was saying. Because that had served him so well in the past.
He glared at her; crossing his arms to communicate his decision was final. "I'm not cheating on my girlfriend."
He tried to growl but ended up with more of a weird cough thing that was incredibly unmanly. Fortunately, that wasn't what the other two room occupants felt like talking about anyway.
Sam was looking at him in horror, betrayal etched all over his face. "Dude, you want to make out with Puck?"
"What?" No, that's the complete opposite- how could Sam- "I just said-"
Zizes was happy to fill him in on what he missed. "No, you said you wouldn't cheat on your girlfriend, which implies you'd be more than willing to suck face with my Puckster if you didn't have the old ball and chain."
Mike was to busy choking on the idea of "Face sucking + Puck" (which was almost as bad as "Puck + sex" and he really wished his imagination would just shut down right now) but luckily Sam was ready to move on with the conversation, having somehow become immune to all of Zizes' mentions of man sex.
…man sex, ugh.
The blond's eyes were wide, confusion overtaking his initial horror as he switched his focus from boring holes into Mike's face to getting an answer from Lauren. "I thought that only applies to wives?"
"Whatever," she replied absently, waving in Sam's direction to indicate that the small amount of attention she could dedicate to him was now over. Her eyes remained glued to Mike's, fingers itching towards a cell phone that he had overlooked resting on her desk. "I bet if I called Tina up right now she'd be game."
No, no, no, nobody was calling Tina. Mike was not going to let any more Puck-related items or people or things get into contact with Tina, especially if they were going to suggest that they do the dirty. Also, he had a small fear his girlfriend would actually accept this proposal (she had tried to not-so-subtly drop the hint that she was very appreciative of some man-on-man action) and while he really loved his girlfriend, he would not do that.
Because kissing a guy would be gross. And kissing Puck would pretty much be inviting all kinds of unpleasant sexual diseases onto him.
Also, it would be gross.
"You people are all crazy," Mike declared. Before he could lose his nerve he darted across the room, snatched up Zizes' phone like his life depended on it (and it did) and shoved it into his pocket just as he evaded Lauren's grasp and he pelted towards the door. He stopped once he made it to the threshold, pausing to glare at Sam.
"And you," he murmured, squinting his eyes in a threatening manner. "You are the worst backup ever!"
Mission accomplished (and wounded in more ways than he cared to mention), Mike exited the building, trying to figure out his next course of action.
Maybe…
Flowers, black roses.
Yeah, he just needed to like, serenade Tina and then he could put this unpleasantness behind him. And never, ever think of it again.
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It was deathly silent when Mike left the room, leaving Sam to uncomfortably fidget while Lauren glared at the door in a slightly put off manner. The blond scrubbed at his ear tiredly, wishing he could forget the second half of their conversation.
Wishing he could just take a nap.
Lauren sighed quietly, standing up and popping the cricks out of her back. "He knows I have a land line, right?"
It was a rhetorical question, but Sam tried to put up a little defense for his friend. "…He's a little stressed."
"Repressed, is more like it," she grumbled, and Sam's mind froze again, refusing to acknowledge what she had said. Lauren turned to look at him, wagging a finger at him threateningly. "You better get my phone back."
"I will," he replied, because one did not cross Lauren Zizes (he had seen what she had done to Quinn). He suddenly groaned, staring at his feet dejectedly. "He drove me here."
Sam had known that he had risked losing his ride whenever he decided to join Mike, but he had really been hoping to avoid walking home.
Lauren took pity on him, exercising one of her rare moments of kindness. "Let me get my keys."
Hey, no walking for this guy. Well, it was the least she could do after all the...ughhhh-
Just don't think about it fish lips, he thought; rubbing the side of his head. It'll be better if you just forget it.
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*Wednesday Night*
"kff. Professor X, this is Barracuda, I am in position. Kff. Over."
Artie glared down at the walkie talkie his hand, allowing himself an unintelligible sound of annoyance before bringing the device to his lips. "Puck, stop making static noises, and I already told you my code name is Condor."
Because if he got to have a badass animal name, then Artie got to as well. It was only fair as they acted out their amateur espionage fantasies.
"Kff. Sorry Professor X, I didn't quite catch that. Maybe you should end the phrase with 'over' if you're over…over."
Artie rolled his eyes. "I'm Condor damnit, Puck."
There was a pause on the other end of the line and Artie sighed, bringing the radio back up to his mouth. "Over."
"Dude, Professor X is much more fitting," Puck defended through their radio connection. Despite the fact they weren't actually that far apart, Puck had demanded they start using their new communication equipment as soon as he left the van. "Besides, it makes you sound like a super genius, over."
Well…since Artie was the brains of this operation, he supposed a change in codename to acknowledge this fact wouldn't be so bad.
"Fine," Artie replied, making sure to hold on to his annoyance so that Puck wouldn't get a bigger head. "I'll be Professor X. Barracuda, what's our status? Over."
"Jackie Chan has gathered at the car dealership with Baby face, Barbara Streisand, Harry Potter, and the Head Manager herself. Doesn't look like anyone else is coming. Over."
To be honest, Artie was surprised the status wasn't 'someone discovered me hiding in this tree' but the obliviousness of the residents of Lima Ohio was something that really shouldn't come to a shock to him by now. Actually, he was more surprised that Puck had figured out how to use the binoculars Artie had given him. After the three disastrous practice runs with it, that in itself was a feat to be celebrated.
Or maybe the fact you could have a disastrous trial run with a pair of binoculars was the thing to be celebrated. It certainly seemed like the more difficult thing to achieve.
But, wait a minute…
"The car dealership?" Artie asked, eyebrows furrowing as he contemplated Puck's unusual codename.
"Mercedes' house." Puck answered with an aggravated huff. "God, do I have to explain everything to you? Over."
"Got it," Artie replied, grinding his teeth together at Puck's vexed tone. "Checking visual now. Over."
"Awesome…over."
He tossed his radio onto the seat beside him and set his laptop in front of him, checking the feed from the tiny spy camera Puck had managed to liberate from Artie he would probably feel more comfortable not knowing about. The display appeared to be completed filled with tree branches and leaves. Not quite what Artie had been hoping for.
With one last critical stare Artie snatched his radio back up. "Barracuda you've got it pointed at the ground."
"Oh…what?" Puck asked, but then he seemed to realize what Artie wanted and the screen began shaking. "Gimme a second. Over."
There was a pause and then the display began to shift, moving in sporadic, twitchy motions before coming to a halt, Puck fixing it into place so that Artie finally had a view of something that wasn't the ground.
Unfortunately, now all he had a view of was a happy gathering of clouds and the mess of branches that came before them, still not quite what Artie had been hoping for.
"How about now, over?"
Artie sighed, willing to keep his annoyance in check. "Now it's pointed at the sky."
"What the hell man?" Puck asked, struggling to keep his voice down as he fiddled with the device some more. "How can a tiny camera be so hard to use?"
"Just pin it to your shirt," Artie suggested, counting to ten in his head at his partner's lack of spying skills.
It was becoming more and more obvious that being the brains of the operation entailed being the only one who possessed even the smallest amount of common sense. Not that difficult, considering what he had to work with, but still, how hard was it to aim a camera?"
"Fine…" Puck grumbled, and the display shifted again, the darkness from the would-be spy's gloves traveling the edges of the screen as he fixed it to his shirt. "How bout now?"
"Great," Artie replied, pleased as the side of the house came into view, the window to Mercedes' room only obstructed by some stubborn tree branches. "Visual's all clear Barracuda."
"How about hearing? Over."
Since they both already knew the radio were working fine Puck must have been referring to the bugs they had planted earlier, which was entirely irrelevant since there weren't any bugs in Mercedes house, but Artie decided it would be faster to humor Puck as opposed to attempting to argue this logic, and swiftly moved on.
"Yeah, the bug's working great," he replied, checking the readouts on his laptop. "Too bad they're not doing this at Mike's house, then we would definitely know what was going on."
Of course, there were less trees at Mike's house, so there was a greater chance of them getting arrested too.
"Challenges of being a spy Professor X," Puck said all-knowingly, with the confidence of someone who had been doing this all his life. "Any suspicious activity on your end?"
Artie gave his surroundings a cursory inspection and shrugged, confirming the nothing he had already seen. "Nope. No one's bothered by a guy in a wheel chair hanging out in his van."
Though you'd think at some point they would be, but the uncaring nature of Lima's citizens was not new to Artie. It was every man for himself out here, it would probably be stranger if someone had stopped to check on him.
"Super convenient that your dad's car happened to be white dude," Puck continued optimistically, unaware of Artie's mental digression.
"Yeah," Artie agreed. "Too bad it didn't have paneling. Guess my dad didn't foresee this particular aspect when he was purchasing it."
"Well that's what the fake mustache and the fedora are for," Puck answered, as though Artie didn't remember losing that particular argument. "No one will know it's you."
Unless they figured out he was in a wheelchair, from then on out the process of elimination wouldn't be too terribly difficult.
"Sure thing Puck," Artie agreed unenthusiastically, moving on. "I mean, Barracuda. What do you see with the binoculars?"
The view of the window he had was great and all, but it was difficult to perceive any specifics from that alone, save for the vague outlines of people, but he couldn't tell how many or who was where, or what exactly they were doing.
There was a pause for a moment as Puck repositioned himself to get a better view. "It looks like they're in some kind of circle," he said. "Jackie doesn't look happy about it, big surprise there, and Barbara and Manager are lighting some candles."
So circle, candles, and most of the meddling members of glee club, what could it mean?
"What about Baby face and Harry Potter?" Artie asked as he pondered the possibilities of the set up.
"Not contributing, looks like they're just sitting there."
So this had to be instigated by Rachel and Mercedes, if Kurt wasn't helping. It must be a girl thing he invited himself to if the candles were any indication, but why was Mike there?
Artie frowned, fingers drumming restlessly against the edge of his keyboard. "I'd figure they'd be all over…whatever this is."
"I'm telling Professor, conspiracy. The proof is in the pudding."
"I didn't honestly think we'd get anything out of this Barracuda," Artie admitted, ignoring the indignant huff from Puck. "But I've got to say you might actually be right."
"I told you," Puck replied, emulating the epitome of smugness.
"It's creepy."
"Stay focused Professor," Puck cautioned. "The night is still young."
"Don't worry," Artie replied, carefully removing the sarcasm from his tone so that all that remained was utter sincerity. "I'm ever vigilant."
Some of his snark must have snuck into his words anyway because Puck sounded a little peeved whenever he replied. "Whatever," he murmured, and Artie was about to think of something that would soothe his ego when the other teen cut back in, disbelief permeating his tone. "Dude."
"What?" Artie asked, struggling to do a better job making out the picture on his laptop screen, trying to see what Puck saw.
"I think they've got Chang tied up."
"Are you serious?" He gripped the sides of his monitor as though it would give him a better view, knowing it was useless but making the exercise in futility anyway.
"I know a handcuff when I see one," Puck replied honestly, and that was an all-knowing Artie could rely on, a level of assuredness he would never have to question. That sort've explained why Mike was there, because he couldn't leave, but it still didn't explain everything.
"Do you think they're going to torture him?" Artie asked, legitimately worried.
Sure, Mike might have stolen his girlfriend from him right under his nose, but he was honestly a really good guy. Like, good to a fault, and hated making waves. Not for himself. That was a kind of selflessness that made it difficult not to forgive him for any slights, and an easy going attitude that made you want to be his friend.
And it wasn't like Rachel and Mercedes would do ill to Mike on purpose, they liked him too, but it was undeniable that they could be…a little bit crazy without meaning to. All the time. Everyday.
"No," Puck answered, sounding almost let down by this fact. "It looks more like one of those awful therapy sessions."
Yeah, that made a lot more sense.
"No wonder they had to handcuff him," Artie replied. This was much more Rachel's style. She had probably noticed all the insanity that was happening in the glee club and was trying to fix it, with the more reasonable of the two members involved. Or at least the one that was more likely to put up with surprise therapy sessions.
"He looks really unhappy," Puck commented, sounding delighted by the prospect.
Artie sighed, knowing all to well where this was going, and waited for Puck to continue.
"It's awesome," Puck declared.
"Of course you would say that." Artie rolled his eyes. Honestly, he wished Puck wasn't so predictable. It would be a nice change of pace to have some surprise in his behavior.
"Hey, you wanna hate the Puckster, you better be ready for some psycho therapy," Puck defended smoothly, so beyond pleased with this turn of events. "It's cool that Rachel's interference is finally working in my favor."
"You think that's what this is about?" Artie asked, somewhat surprised Puck managed to come to that conclusion, and he could imagine Puck shrugging, keeping his eyes focused on the window.
"It has to be."
"There are other things in the world besides you," Artie chided. "They could be concerned for Mike."
"Sure man," Puck scoffed, all-consumed by his ego. "If that makes you happy."
"It's possible-"
"Ha!" Puck interrupted, forgetting the prime objective of stealth in order to properly celebrate. "Now they're hugging him!"
"The horror," Artie deadpanned, rolling his eyes at Puck's joy.
"He's shaking his fist at them," Puck replied, loving every moment of this.
Artie tilted his head thoughtfully. "He seems really grumpy as of late."
"He's been really stupid as of late."
Yet another argument not worth making, so Artie let it slide, preparing himself for the next barrage of Puck-conversation.
A few seconds later Puck let out an inarticulate sound of frustration. "Damnit, why is lip reading so hard?"
"Did something happen?"
"He's ranting again," Puck responded, shifting forward to get a clearer view through all the branches. "But it looks like something really good because Harry and Kurt are leaning in. I need to get in there."
"His name is Blaine," Artie corrected automatically. "And no, you do not need to go in there, you agreed we would only observe."
Artie really didn't want to get arrested today. He was sure Mercedes would be lenient on him, and Puck too if her mood was good, but her parents probably wouldn't be so positively inclined.
"Well that was before," Puck lectured, already beginning his decent from his camouflaged perch. "This is now."
"Puck-"
"Barracuda," Puck corrected stubbornly. "And chill Professor, I'll be sneaky, like a lion."
Artie rolled his eyes. "Lion's aren't-"
"Beginning infiltration," Puck cut in, disregarding the merits of his argument. Even if they were true. "Must maintain radio silence."
Artie tried again anyway, because it was the best he could do, to try and reign the other teen in when all the crazy started happening. He was the responsible one, after all. "Puck, I really-"
"Radio, silence," Puck urged, not taking any arguments.
It was settled then.
Artie sighed. "Good luck," he whispered quietly. He didn't care if Puck demanded silence, if he was going to ignore Artie's instructions; Artie was going to ignore his. And that would be that.
"Won't need it," Puck scoffed, so full of himself it was almost overflowing.
Artie didn't bother with an answer, choosing instead to chuck his radio to the side with an irritated huff, crossing his arms as his gaze settled back onto his screen.
"Sure you won't," he muttered.
He considered his uselessness for a second, pondering if his abilities were simply limited to a silent spectator, and then was immediately struck with an idea. Seeing as what he was about to watch would probably end with cinematic gold...
"Yep," Artie said, his mood instantly brightening as manipulated the software, sitting back with a contented sigh. "Starting recording now."
Maybe then Finn would stop lauding his YouTube victories over the bespectacled teen's head.
If anyone was going to be a cinematic genius, it was going to be him.
Obviously.
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Endnotes:
I think the word for this chapter is despair, partly because it fits Mike's mood and partly because it's really fun to say.
I would like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter, Southern Hemmy, PlotterFTW, strawberryfinn, Gabwr, and Rogue Ranger. Thank you for your feedback! I'm glad you find this entertaining! I mean, I like to think I'm funny, and it's good to know I kind of pull that off.
I couldn't fit in Sam losing Mike's phone, but we could quite possibly have Mike lose Zizes' phone down the toilet, which will lead to all kinds of panic, and Artie getting caught, definitely, definitely going to happen.
Where did they get the handcuffs? Rachel. Don't ask, she has her ways.
Until next time.