This is for the idiotgirl's prompt of a beautiful BANG BANG picture and two words "Espionage Fic". Will do. Cause I love secret spy stuff and blowing stuff up. And I feel its pretty safe to say that although this is a "drabble", I will probably be making this into a full length multichapter fic whenever I'm finished with Fuickleberry story and then another story I wanted to do that I started as a drabble as well about Greek Gods. Totally existing in Lima. And the fun Havoc they wreak upon McKinley High School.
Okay, so here's my espionage drabble. : )
Double O Puckleberry
"Rachel…sweetheart? We're going to need you to sit down for this…"
"Daddies? What is it? You know I have a graduation party tonight at Santana's, and as much as she seems to have taken to me in the last two years, she will violently murder me if I don't get to the party at least fifteen minutes early to help her hide her mother's valuables," Rachel smiled at her fathers indulgently, knowing that it was easier to placate Santana with these silly tasks rather than help her through the inevitable rage induced violence spree towards the recent graduates of McKinley High if Mrs. Lopez's Precious Moment's statues went missing.
"You're such a thoughtful angel…she's just such a delicate and thoughtful angel, Jerome…she can't…"
"Micah, please," Jerome said sternly. His partner was very rarely weepy, but they had both discovered as the days to Rachel's high school graduation had dwindled, both of the Fathers Berry had broken down in what was to come. He flinched only slightly as Micah placed a very resolute hand on his shoulder. They took one long moment to look at one another, wordlessly communicating as their barely amused daughter took one more glace at her watch.
Jerome sighed and Micah knew he had won this small battle. He smiled at Rachel and kissed her forehead and said, "Run along sweetie…we'll talk in the morning."
Rachel beamed and kissed both of their cheeks in rapid succession before skipping up the stairs to get her overnight bag that she had packed three months ago when Santana had announced her graduation party. She was blissfully unaware that her fathers continued their conversation downstairs, their whispers harsh and dire.
"One more night, we can't keep this from her any longer," Jerome insisted.
"One more night of just being a girl," Micah promised. "She'll be fine until tomorrow."
"Sweetheart?" Jerome called out as Rachel dashed down the stairs, her provisions for the evening at the ready. She gave them a beaming smile and Jerome did his best to return the happiness. "Would you do us a rather large favor, darling?"
"Daddy, of course!" Rachel nodded.
"Find Noah Puckerman at the party, please. Stick close by. We're-"
Micah could see his partner had a momentary derailment in his usually cool and calculated thought. He picked up the idea immediately and ran with it, twenty-five years of practice obviously not going to waste, "We're concerned. His mother thinks that he may be depressed. He could really use a dose of Rachel sunshine here."
"Daddies!" Rachel laughed. She nodded despite herself, because after all, spending time with Noah didn't seem like the worst suggestion in the world. They had grown into a comfortable acquaintance since their break-up in sophomore year. She dared to dream that he didn't want to light himself on fire when she was speaking anymore. She blew a kiss towards her parents before promising, "I'll be Noah's shadow. Promise."
"PUCKERMAN! You asshole, why are you hoarding Rachel away from me all night? You know she's mine right now, right? She's MY toy to play with and you can go and find your own Rachel Damned Berry, cause I already made the payments on this one."
"Really, Puck. Selfishness is the leading cause of male pattern baldness."
Rachel giggled as she nursed the red plastic cup that she had only really taken two sips of that evening. She didn't care for drinking, but Santana had drilled her in proper party etiquette. If she was holding a drink all night, no assholes would try to roofie her with a new drink. Santana did really care for her friends. As was evidenced by the crackling young women standing in front of a bored and disinterested Puck. Brittany stood next to Santana, her arms crossed in an attempt at anger.
"Santana, I'm not a piece of luggage," Rachel reminded the party hostess.
"Hell no, you're like my bitch. Do I have to pee on you to prove it?" Santana scoffed.
Puck raised an eyebrow and looked between all three girls in mildly disgusted interest. He poked at Rachel's shoulder and said, "This is the freaky shit you guys do together when you're all manless? Here I thought it had been like two straight years of hot tongue kissing."
Rachel rolled her eyes at him and then leveled a barely amused glare at Santana. "As exciting as this horribly disgusting conversation is, I'm going to head downstairs and check in on Quinn. She had already had half a bottle of Peach Schnapps, and if you remember Spring break, you would do well to remember, BRITTANY, that giving Quinn peach schnapps makes her angry. And also vomit continuously."
"Peach schnapps can't make a person angry. It's fluffy kitten napping in sunshine all pressed in a bottle," Brittany countered.
"You're a dumb bitch," Santana cooed fondly. She launched herself at her girlfriend, lips mashing against Brittany's as Santana continued to murmur fond insults between kisses.
"Noah? Are you going to accompany me downstairs?" Rachel demanded as she turned away from her friends' nauseating public displays of affection.
"Half a minute," Puck mumbled as he watched the recently graduated Cheerios with never-ending fascination.
Rachel rolled her eyes and headed towards the grand staircase of Santana's lavish house. She surveyed the raging party and sure enough, Quinn was in the corner alternating between punching Finn in his forehead with an absurd amount of angry force and fighting the urge to heave the contents of her stomach on his shoes. The rest of her friends, the original Glee club mostly, were dispersed through the party and looked to be having a seriously wonderful time.
A cheer went through the crowd as Kanye West's "Stronger" came on. Artie began rapping along with undeniable skill and Mike stood atop the grand oak dining room table and began to pop and lock for their cheering classmates. Rachel giggled to herself as she surveyed the total happiness and joy on the faces of all of her friends. They would have three more months of this solidarity before they all went their separate ways, Rachel knew that but refused to dwell on just how sad that day would inevitably be. Tonight was for celebrations and joy…
And explosions.
She felt her whole body being pushed backwards as her hand gripped the railing of the steps with more strength than she knew she possessed. Her eyes closed tightly of their own accord as a wall of heat expanded around her and screams of the partygoer's clawed at her ears. The explosion lasted less than a second, but she felt that it was a lifetime as she gripped the railing from her seated position on the steps. She was sure she had been standing a moment before.
Upstairs, Brittany and Santana broke apart and Puck jumped out of his skin. He shared an alarmed look with Santana before she barked out, "Go and get her! Jesus Christ man!"
Puck took off with a surprising amount of agility, finding Rachel sitting in the middle of the large staircase, her hand clenched around the railing so tightly that her knuckles were white. He was at her side in an instant and demanded with a quietness that was surprising to both of their ears.
"Rach, you okay?"
"People are hurt," Rachel whispered, looking down at the carnage. She saw Quinn struggling to push Finn off of her, who had somehow managed to shield her from the worst of it by falling on top of her. Rachel rose suddenly and began bounding down the steps, "We need to call an ambulance."
"Rach—wait, come here," Puck demanded, looking to the front door anxiously. If the party had been interrupted by an explosion, he was sure that someone would be stopping by shortly to see if the job had been done. He grabbed Rachel's forearm and deftly dodged her swinging hand as she fought to break free of his grip.
"NOAH!" Rachel harshly yelled. "People are hurt, we have to help."
"We got this, Rachel, don't worry," Santana said evenly as she and Brittany bounded down the steps. She nudged Puck's shoulder and said, "Puck's got to take you to your dads. Like, forever ago. We'll take care of everyone."
"My dads?" Rachel whispered. "What?"
"Rach, look at me," Puck demanded in a tone that left little room for argument. She had no choice but to look up at him, her gaze locking with his, suddenly transfixed by the glinting flecks of green in his eyes. "Your dads are definitely in danger right now. And you have to listen very closely to what I'm about to say."
She nodded, mutely, thank God. He bent forwards and put his lips to her ear and whispered, "HaKash SheShavar et Gav HaGamal…"
Brittany watched in fascination, Santana simply sighed and pushed her way past Puck and Rachel to begin attending to the wounded. But Brittany could only watch, enraptured as Rachel's brown eyes went nearly black and blank, her face which had been previously been filled with panic and worry suddenly was a clean slate. Her body had been tense against Puck's, and now it was fluid and relaxed. Brittany cocked her head to the side and demanded,
"Make that happen to me…"
"No such luck. You're not the super weapon," Puck rolled his eyes. He looked down at Rachel with worry and said, "We're going to go to your fathers' house. We'll get you answers there."
"Mission," Rachel whispered quietly, her voice registering octaves lower than usual.
"Only one, stay alive until I can hand you off back to your dads," Puck said resolutely. "Keeping me alive would be an added bonus."
Rachel nodded and turned on her heel, bounding down the steps, followed quickly by Puck. Brittany trotted after them, standing by the door and waving enthusiastically.
"Be careful! Make sure you're back by the 4th of July, we're having another party! San said she'd rent me a bouncy castle!"
Puck and Rachel made it halfway down the block towards his truck when all hell broke loose. A large black van squealed around the corner of the normally sedate Walnut Street and he felt Rachel tense momentarily beside him. He squared his shoulders and waited as the doors to the van opened before it had come to a complete stop and five large men dressed all in black poured out and rushed directly towards the high school graduates. Puck took one last glance at Rachel and attempted to smirk as he saw her body automatically go into a defensive stance. He knew that technically she was physically ready for this, just as he had been when his time had come during his time in "juvie". But he couldn't help but worry a little. She was legally a midget.
The midget's legs swung out suddenly, her sensible Mary Jane's connecting with the jaw of Asshole Number One. Puck took the guy's serious stumbling and used it to his advantage, grabbing the guy by his shirt, hockey style and inflicting serious damage. He watched as Rachel precisely kicked and punched in perfect, textbook style, incapacitating these men who were three times her size.
He vaguely wondered if this is what he looked like that first time he had been put under. He took another of Rachel's incapacitated rejects and knocked him unconscious with a severe head butt before throwing him onto the ever growing pile of Assholes. If he had ever fought in Rachel's textbook style, he had certainly forgotten it as he moved like an old drunk Irish boxer. Slightly clumsy and graceless, but definitely powerful and effective.
Rachel took on Asshole Number Five, who was actually anticipating her karate happy moves. She was losing ground, and Puck couldn't stand the way her stony façade broke ever so slightly, and behind the haze of the trance he had put her in, he could definitely see her very real fright for one split second. He found himself full out spear-tackling Asshole Number Five to the ground, punching the crap out of the dude's temples until he was completely unconscious and definitely fucking concussed. He turned to see that Rachel was currently rummaging through the pockets of the pile of assholes they had made and she came up with two handguns, tossing him one carefully before continuing towards Puck's truck.
They were in the truck and on the road less than two blocks before another black van began tailing them at a ridiculous speed. Puck looked to Rachel with a nod and wordlessly she twisted in her seat, leaning out of the passenger side window. Puck kept glancing her way, partly because he was scared she would tumble from the truck and partly because he was totally getting an eyeful of turquoise panty as her skirt rode up indecently as she tangled out the passenger window and fired two shots in the van's tires, causing the van to spin wildly out of control and crash into a fire hydrant.
Puck drove furiously to Rachel's house, anxious to get her back to her dads. He couldn't understand why they hadn't taken care of this sooner. There was no way he was supposed to be her trigger man. It was all kinds of wrong for her two gay dads to totally wimp out and make HIM the bad guy in this and effectively end their daughter's childhood. Gay bastards.
"Noah," Rachel whispered. "What's happening?"
"Rach?" he furrowed his brow. He hadn't seen many people in trance mode before, but he had seen enough to know that they weren't supposed to be chatty motherfuckers. They were supposed to be freaking killing machines in trance mode. Leave it to Rachel Berry to be the one to break the mold. Girl can't even be silent when put into mute killer mode. He sighed and said, "We're going to back to your dads. They can explain."
"You explain," she whispered, her voice sounding more and more like her own, with its softness and lilt returning.
"Jesus H. Fucking Christ on a Motherfucking Stick!" Puck growled, taking one corner a little more violently than he probably should have, as Rachel slid across the seat until her body was crammed against him. He looked at her and could see the real Rachel in her eyes. Huh. She had willed herself out of a subliminally planted trance that had been programmed into both of them at far too early an age. He had been out for three days when it had happened to him.
"Please explain," she whispered desperately. "What's happening?"
"Rach, here's the thing," Puck sighed. He swallowed nervously before just shrugging and giving up. "You and me? We're part of this-experiment thing. We were both picked in freaking nursery school who knows, shit maybe before that. They've been working on us for a long time. We're like, multi-million dollar weapons of fucking espionage. The people following us? They'd really like taking us back to their labs and messing with our already messed up minds in order to get us to kill the people we work for and like, take over the world and shit."
Puck was expecting tears. Or perhaps incredulous laughter. Or maybe even a bullshit coming from Rachel's mouth. Instead he got one curt nod, a hand suddenly wrapped in his own and her soft voice echoing in his ears.
"Oh. Well that makes sense."