Chapter Nine: The One That Mike Sings In.
ix: She's frequently kind, and suddenly cruel. She can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool.
There's not a stir in the house this morning, and she's immensely thankful. She figures Rachel keeps track and tells the others. Quinn's reminded once again of what a good friend Rachel really is, and why she's proud to call her her best friend. They've all been gone a few hours, but will be gone for a few more. It's Saturday and they find ways to busy themselves easily. Quinn, on the other hand, has been sitting in the same place for a few hours now, staring blankly. She's afraid to open it, and yet, she's dying to.
Part of her feels that if she opens it, her illusion that Beth is just on vacation is shattered. However, it also lets her know how her precious little girl is doing and lets her see just how alike Beth is to her parents. Quinn fingers the letter delicately, tracing her name on the cover three times before finally coming to the conclusion that she's known all along; she can't do this alone. She never has been able to, so why she thought this time would be different is beyond her.
(It's because of Sam. She thought it would be easier because at the end of the day, she has Sam, and that thought alone should give her the courage. It doesn't.)
Against herself, Quinn picks the letter up and puts into the back pocket of her jeans. Smoothening her hair out lightly, she strolls over to the boys apartment. She's sure Finn will be there. Opening the door, she smiles seeing Finn at the counter. "Hey."
He nods but continues shoveling cereal into his mouth. "Hmmphy."
"I asked for the news, not the weather," She grumbles, flicking Lucky Charms off of her lemon tank top. Wrinkling her nose, she sits down opposite him. "What are you doing today?"
He shrugs, "Have Glee practice on Saturdays. Want to win this year." She's thankful the cereal is gone. "Then meeting with Rachel later on... She's shopping now. Even though she can't quite afford it."
"That's not our place to judge," Quinn chides, annoyed at Finn. "She can splurge on herself if she wants. What time is Glee at?"
"Two." He replies casually, unperturbed by the pending time. It's quarter to two, Quinn notes. "Is everything okay?" He asks her, concerned.
She smiles. Finn is such a caring and sweet guy – she doesn't know why he hasn't been snapped up yet, "I'm fine," Quinn tells him softly, looking him in the eyes. "But don't you have to go? Fifteen minutes to make it, Finn."
"Fifteen?" He repeats in disbelief, "Damn, I better go! I'm never late." he exclaims, more to himself than to her.
Quinn watches in amusement as he rushes around the apartment gathering his things. He waves goodbye then and scurries out the door, the sound of it shutting echoing around her. She wonders what she's doing here really. Did she not say she wanted someone to do this with? Frowning, she finally accepts the disappointment she felt walking in here to find Finn. That's not who she wanted.
Resigning herself, she walks to the boys phone and dials the familiar number. The wait for him to pick up seems to drag on until at last she hears his deep, smooth tone, "You got me."
"Puck?" Her voice is shakier than she would like, and Quinn is instantly irritated with herself.
He picks up on it. "Quinn? Is everything okay?"
"C—can you come over? I...I-"
"A letter? I wish you'd told me. I thought it was coming tomorrow... you know I would have been there if you said."
"I know." There's nothing more to say.
"I'm leaving now." The phone call ends, and Quinn returns to her own apartment, debating with herself about whether she has done the right thing. She swore after last month that she'd stop asking Puck over when she gets the letter, especially since she has Sam now.
Instead, she rang Puck in work, and asked him to leave for her. It's not right but she'll reconcile herself with that later. For now, she just needs comfort. (Puck's been that comfort for far too long. She could have rang Sam. Should have rang Sam.)
Her mobile tone calls out, and with a quick check Quinn notes it's her boyfriend (but ignores it). Yes, they've made it official with a romantic dinner and night of great sex. It's been a week and she's loving it – it's been far too long since Quinn felt cherished and loved. Sam is sweet, loving, caring, goofy, genuine and everything she's ever wanted in a man.
(Is it? She wonders why it's not enough at times.)
The door flies open, and Puck finds her sitting at the table, letter poised perfectly in front of her. She raises her brow at him as he sighs in relief, taking a seat next to her.
"I wasn't about to slit my wrists, you know."
He shoots her a look, "Don't be a bitch." Gesturing to the letter, he asks her, "Will I open it?"
Quinn can't help but nod, "Please. I just.. I just-"
He places his hand over hers, and she hates that she welcomes the touch. She hates that it warms her. Hates that it sends electricity through her veins and comfort to her heart, "You don't have to."
She knows she doesn't have to explain, but sometimes, she thinks she should explain, if only to herself.
He opens it carefully, as if it could fall into pieces if handled to roughly, and the papers fall out. His eyes meet hers first, and then by silent agreement, he pulls out the photograph.
They both suck in a breath sharply.
A pang of hurt and longing hits Quinn so hard that she can barely breathe, and finds that suddenly she's shaking and crying all at once. She pushes her chair out from the table and bites her first, fighting desperately the tears that strive to follow the others.
It's been so long since she saw her little angel. It's been a month since she held her baby in her arms and simply sat there, revelling in holding the child she should get to hold everyday.
Puck pulls her to his chest, holding her tightly and whispering things that mean nothing – but help everything – in her ear. Her tiny fists clutch his jumper, as she repeatedly tells him she can't look again. Puck strokes her hair softly, still whispering in her ear and calming her down. He does this every time – every, single time. It's only when she gets the letters. Quinn's always great when actually with Beth.
Over her shoulder, he stares down at the picture of the blonde darling with her mother's button nose, beautiful hazel eyes and curling blonde hair. But she has that air of mischief, a sparkle in her eyes that says she's up to no good that is distinctly him.
She's got his smile. He holds Quinn a little closer.
(He wishes they never gave her up, too. He also knows that they gave her the best life possible. Their little girl, Beth.)
He tends not to question his friends sometimes questionable motives, but this time it seems to have a good end. Seems anyway. They were never too great in the kitchen, so who knows what the end will actually be – but intentions are good, that's for sure. Puck claimed he wanted to do something nice; why and for who, Finn isn't entirely sure. Apparently, it's for everyone in general because Puck feels that they've all been there for him.
Finn's doing it because, in Puck's words, he's 'still trying to get back into Berry's pants'. His words. Making them not necessarily true, especially where Puck is concerned – not the most credible of sources, Finn can promise you. Don't believe everything that guy says. (You can believe most of it though. He's a bit of a contradiction, you see, as most of the time he's direct but sometimes... he strays.)
Nevertheless, they decided cooking for everyone would be a good idea. Why, Finn can't remember anymore with the mess they've made – his now food stained top, the piling pans in the sink, the leftover veg strewn across the counter, the bits that fell on the floor dotted around the small kitchen.
It's a good idea, he reminds himself. They just have to clean up after, Finn realises with dread. Surely, if you cook it, someone else cleans it? He thinks back to when people have cooked for him and tries to remember if he cleaned afterwards.
He gives up on this as Puck throws a towel at him, "We have to make this look alright by the time they get home."
"What is defined as 'alright'..." He asks, taking in everything around him.
Puck shrugs, "Beats me. You're usually good at this shit,"
"Yeah, but you caught me by surprise. How was I to know I'd be playing friend of the year tonight?"
The other man smirks, "Think of the brownie points you'll score with Berry. Just don't bring her back to ours."
Finn rolls his eyes, "Cause you never bring people back. Besides, you know she's not like that..."
"Oh, I know. That's why I said don't bring her back – it'd be fine if you were sexing it up with her, but you'd be talking. Which, honestly, I can't get down with on a Saturday night."
Why is Finn friends with such an idiot? But, they've always been, he supposes. Finn hasn't had time to change the dial since. He ignores most of what Puck said, and instead starts a new topic as he wipes down the counter, "Speaking of, why are we cooking dinner instead of hitting the town?"
"Man, I'm with you there but I figure that everyone needs a bit of quality time."
Finn stops cleaning and stands back, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Seriously dude, what's your hidden motive?"
"I can't just want to have a nice dinner with my friends?"
"Not on a Saturday night, and certainly not being cooked by you. You're pretty awful at it... I'm surprised this pasta is halfway decent."
Puck waves him off, "It's all about the setting anyway. These candles and shit will make the food seem four star. And ulterior motives are so cheap."
"I'll tell you what my motives are if you do."
He snorts, "I know yours, you're about as subtle as a gun." The man sets down a plate of pasta in one of the places at the table, then pauses. "I—I just think I owe a favour to some people." A smile finds its way onto his face then, "Plus, I heard Santana got tickets to the next game from her job.."
He makes some sort of 'whoop' noise loudly, punching the air excitedly, "You serious? Who told you? Jesus, she better give them to us this time!"
"Yeah, well, that's my plan. But, hey, that's just a bonus of my generous idea. They never have to know of it."
"Never." He agrees, nodding his head. He finishes cleaning quietly, letting Puck set the table and put out the food. Brittany will be the first one home and is due any minute so Finn tries to work at his quickest. Honestly, he's done most of the work tonight, but that's how it always seems to roll with Puck. He doesn't ever notice until the end, too, when Puck's putting out the food and getting all the credit.
(Not entirely true. He does get credit.. Most never believe that Puck can come up with someone purely generous and selfless. Not that they've done things like this many times.)
Finn begins to reflect on his day as he does the mindless task that is cleaning. All in all, his day has been pretty good. Glee practice had gone better than imagined and so had his lunch with Rachel. She had met with him during her break from work, while he was finished for the day; they did it every now and again. Of course, Rachel had a million things on her mind she had to tell him about, but he was happy as always to listen. He's interested in her and what she has to say; she enraptures him. (He hates that he comes back to her time and time again. How many years of it now?)
He can't wait to see her tonight for some reason. He doesn't know why, but feels as if it'll be different to normal – but that's probably just in his mind. He's had this feeling so many times before. It's nothing new..
Brittany strolls through the door, humming happily to herself as she throws her coat on the rack beside the door and heading towards her room. She stops and the door and turns slowly, "Uh.. What are you guys doing? Oh, are we having a slumber party?" She claps gleefully, and Puck shakes his head as if in sadness.
"No, B..."
"An orgy?"
"Yup. Gangbang central here tonight!" He exclaims, then he drifts off, looking lost in his thoughts and Finn knows it's of this gangbang theory.
"Oh this will be so much fun! I've always wanted to see Finnie."
Finn glances apprehensively at Puck, who shrugs, "Er, who's Finnie?"
She walks towards him, her hands coming up to her face as she bends down in front of him, "Does little Finnie want to come to play?" Her fingers are wiggling as she says this, and he nearly turns green.
"While I would be totally down with that normally Brit, so not the time and the place."
She lets herself fall back onto her legs and pouts, "I've never seen Finnie. Santana has. She says it-"
"Oh my goodness!" Is all he hears and Finn shuts his eyes in disbelief. Distantly, he hears Puck snort with laughter and Brittany ask Rachel if she's okay.
Why does he have the worst luck?
"Rachel, nothing actually happened," Puck tells her, completely exasperated. The whole thing had been funny at first but now it's past the point of boring. It's been twenty minutes since it happened; Santana's arrived home and is taking a shower, Kurt's sitting in the living room with Brittany while Finn and Puck are stuck assuring Rachel.
Yeah, Puck's not sure why he's doing that either. He supposes he's a bit of a masochist.
"I know that." She snaps at him, angry for reasons he's not sure. Girls are crazy. "It was just a very compromising position. I mean, what was she doing there anyway? Taking advantage of Brittany's innocent nature, I mean, really.."
"There was nothing innocent about that." Puck laughs loudly, enjoying poking fun at Rachel thoroughly. Despite the fact that she has a massive frown on her face that totally isn't hot, she's looking well. Sitting across from him in a knitted pink cardigan and a checked pink skirt, he can admit that she's rocking the whole sexy schoolgirl look. Sure, she can be annoying, and sure she talks a lot, and sure he tunes her out often, but Rachel's still his friend and still hot. He must remember this more. She's talking rapidly, presumably on the same subject, when he interrupts, "You're looking hot tonight, Berry. What's the occasion? Me cooking? 'Cause, honestly, you didn't have to."
Finn gives him the evils from the seat opposite Rachel. Puck's surprised his eyes aren't red from crying, the man had his head in his hands the whole time Rachel ranted. Loser.
Of course, she's not finished ranting. "Noah Puckerman, could you not just give me a decent compliment? It's not that hard to be nice, you know. And modest. Try being modest – go on, give it a go."
"Says you." Kurt comments as he sits down at the table, obviously finished with whatever he and Brittany were gossiping about. She and Santana are in their room, but Puck doesn't mind because he's not serving dinner without Quinn and Mike.
Although it is starting to get (gotten) cold.
"Can't we just eat?" Kurt asks, staring at the food longingly. "I'm not one to pine for food, like Finn here, but it's been six hours since I ate. This is torture."
"Nope. Not till everyone is here."
"I can eat for Quinn and Mike?" Finn offers.
Rachel nods eagerly, "I can be Quinn and Rachel for the night." She adopts one of Quinn's bored expressions and raises an eyebrow, "Are you naive or just plain stupid? Of course Finn was going to let Brittany give it to him."
There's silence. Kurt gives her a short applause, "That was impressive."
"If not a little scary.." Puck informs her, not looking entirely pleased. "And no. You cannot replace Quinn, I'm afraid. Or Mike."
"Did you invite Sam and Blaine?" Rachel questions curiously.
"why would I do that?" He's confused.
"They're dating."
"So?"
"So... you should have invited them."
"You know, I was part of this dinner, too." Finn interjects, puffing his chest slightly.
"Oh, have you decided to stop crying?"
"Douchebag. Anyway, yeah, I cooked most of it.."
"Well done, Finn," Rachel beams, and Finn feels his ego swell a little bit. He doesn't know why it's so much better when she compliments him, but it is. He's almost sick at how lovesick he is, but can't quite commit to the feeling of nausea when his heart his elated for reasons he can't pin.
"Get me a bucket." Kurt murmurs to Puck, and the other man agrees fervently. Puck hates the googly eyes that Rachel and Finn constantly make with each other – just get together already or move on. It long ago became boring and annoying, now it's bordering on ridiculous. Although.. as he catches Rachel looking at him, Puck wonders if she's half as into it as Finn.
Finn's like a lost puppy. He pines after her constantly and by god, if Puck has to hear one more story about how wonderful she is, he'll burst his own ear drums.
"Sorry everyone," Quinn announces as she walks through the door. Upon seeing the table, she coos a little, "Awh, this is so cute. Finn and Puck, you outdid yourselves! Not bad for oh...I don't know, the second time?."
"Not bad – get a load of this one," Puck says to Finn.
"Well I haven't tasted the dinner yet. I do believe my taste buds weren't the same for weeks after last time you cooked, Puck."
He shrugs, "It's the thought that counts. Cooking was mostly Finn anyway."
Finn knows this is not Puck giving him credit, but rather covering himself in case the dinner is in fact disgusting. He doesn't think it is though – how much could they have messed up pasta?
Mike arrives two minutes later, and they all sit down at the table. Puck serves them, commenting several times as he gives them the food about who cooked it. He cites himself as the genius behind the operation and Finn the labour. Finn doesn't bother correcting any of this (most of it is true.).
Rachel inhales the aroma and smiles, "Smells wonderful guys. What's brought on this, honestly? It's welcomed, don't get me wrong, but you're not exactly the types to cook. Let's not beat around the bush!"
Finn shrugs and throws a glance to Puck, "It was his idea."
All eyes are suddenly on him, and he wonders which way to reply. He shrugs much like Finn did and makes brief eye contact with everyone, lingering on one person for a little longer, "I thought everyone could use a night together."
"Great idea!" Brittany exclaims, "My horoscope said that tonight I'd have a quiet night unless I decide to go out, which is so true."
Quinn smiles softly, "It's a wonderful idea, Noah." The use of his first name isn't lost on him, as there's very few people who ever use it, and she's one of them. Even then, Quinn mostly addresses him by his second name and so he nods silently in response to her comment instead of cracking a joke.
"When did you become such a girl?" Santana asks, twirling the pasta around her fork. "And Finn, this isn't as bad as Quinn's cooking."
He pauses, "Is that even a compliment?" as Quinn shoots her friend a glare.
"Take it as you like it."
"Well, I for one, think it's admirable that Puck and Finn finally did something for everyone else. They usually just scab off of everyone else."
"Thanks for that there, Carly."
"You know iCarly?"
"No, Brittany."
"B, I told you that show brings down the standard of tv by just being aired.."
Puck drifts as his friends carry on in conversation, wondering if he could subtly slip in something about the game next week. Surely Santana's flower boy wouldn't want them? Puck can't imagine him being very sporty, but perhaps that's just him stereotyping.. which it well could be. He hadn't taken a lot of time to get to know Blaine yet, despite having spent a good amount of time with the man. Blaine constantly seems to be out with them now, and he isn't sure how he feels about that. Honestly, he doesn't really care, but there's something about Blaine that he can't put his finger on.
Also, once or twice, Puck could swear he caught Blaine checking him out. Then again, who could blame him? Puck can't fault him for being human.
He also wonders if Blaine knows about Brittany and Santana's late night rendezvous – he's not entirely sure they're still happening, but they certainly were in the summer. Granted, it's November now; Santana's been seeing Blaine since September, so he can't put all his money on her and Brittany.
The mention of the boy in questions name draws him back into conversation.
"... to Blaine's, I told him we'd make time to see each other this weekend. Just because I get sick of you guys."
Rachel shakes her head, "Ask him over here, silly. I like Blaine," She smiles brightly, and Puck knows exactly why she likes Blaine – he thoroughly enjoys music sessions. Puck's not about to complain, any excuse to take out the guitar is a good enough one for him.
Mike winces, "We all haven't hung out alone in a while..."
"There was yesterday." Quinn replies dryly.
Kurt: "Tuesday night."
"Practically all weekend."
"okay, so I meant on a Friday for our sessions."
"You hate the music sessions..." Rachel says slowly, surveying Mike. He's fidgeting uncomfortably now. "I always have to convince you."
Seeing how awkward Mike is clearly feeling, Puck decides to be a good friend, "Berry, don't look so suspicious. Is it so wrong to want to leave the outsiders out every once in a while? That said, go on and invite Blaine." He turns and says quietly to Finn, "He always brings the good beer."
Rachel claps enthusiastically, "And Quinn, you invite Sam over for a bit! I can't believe I've only heard him sing once, and that wasn't even properly. What is it, two months? Really astonishing that he's escaped this long. Although, I understand that it can be intimidating for an amateur to perform in front of -"
Puck and Finn frown, the latter speaking first, "Woah, Sam over on a Friday? I don't know..."
Quinn furrows her brow, too, not liking what she is hearing, "Excuse me? Who said you had any say? This is my apartment, not yours. I'm going to invite my boyfriend over and you're going to be nice, like I have always been with your horrid girlfriends."
"What have you got against Sam?" Rachel asks Finn.
"And you've never been nice to their girlfriends." Kurt laughs, though he does want Sam to come over. Eye candy is never a bad thing in his books, even if it is straight candy.
Finn responds to Rachel by shrugging lightly and mumbling, "nothing."
Santana rolls her eyes, "Nothing. Yeah. Right, do you want to collect them with me, Q? Get away from these for a bit."
"Sounds good." The blonde smiles softly, and rises to get her coat. The lull in conversation gives Kurt the opportunity to turn to Brittany and discuss his campaign.
"Have you thought anymore on posters and slogans, Brit?"
Her eyes light up and she nods, "Yeah! I have a model of a poster in my room, do you want to see? I was thinking for a slogan: Embrace the Magic."
"What?" he asks confusedly, and Brittany simply leads him into her room to show him. Meanwhile, Mike slumps back into his chair, Rachel begins to clear the table, Finn scrolls through his ipod checking out songs and Puck stares into space.
Rachel glances at them briefly while stacking plates at the sink, "What is up with you guys?"
"If I tell you guys, you have to keep it quiet." Mike announces, eyes focusing in on each of them intently. Finn and Rachel agree immediately, Puck hesitating for a minute before doing the same. (He could never turn down some good gossip.)
"I—I .." He thinks about what he's about to say; whether it's wise, necessary or detrimental and decides that it's not worth it. He's being rash and acting out of jealousy, but he does have to tell them something because they're expecting it. (And he's going to burst at the seams.) "I don't like Blaine."
Rachel gasps melodramatically, and Finn is quick to question, "Why? I mean, I think he's a little arrogant sometimes, but he's a sound enough guy."
Puck wrinkles his nose, "He's a little fruity."
"Fruity?" Rachel looks at him, to which he only nods.
Mike draws the conversation back to him and his dislike, "Yeah – I think it's just his arrogance. How he has to take over everything, be the centre of everything and – and everything."
"Woah," Puck claps him on the back with a grin, "You really don't like the guy."
"No." he responds quietly.
"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no... I'll be a laughing stock, Brittany!" They hear Kurt insist, walking briskly out of her room. She's trailing behind wearing a puzzled expression and holding a poster in her hand.
"I think it's perfect. You're a unicorn, Kurt. Magic and unique and not afraid to embrace and let everyone know it – you should use that. You've never been afraid to express yourself before. I've always admired that about you."
"Let us see it, B." Finn says, joining the conversation. The two had instantly drawn the other three into the mix, but Brittany had been holding the poster out of view. As she reveals it, it takes all of Finn's willpower not to laugh. Rachel is stunned speechless, Mike's eyes are round and Puck.. he doesn't have the same inclination as Finn, and outright laughs. "Oh wow, that – that's brilliant, Brit." He shakes his head in amusement, "I needed that." Before leaving to get his guitar from his apartment.
Not saying a word, Kurt waves his arms wildly at Puck's retreating form to Brittany. Rachel finally regains words here, "True, it's not the most .. conventional of campaign posters. But it is original and it is sure to catch the eyes of the student body. The colours are bold, so it's not going to be just passed over like any other poster. What is most important in these elections is the originality so that you stand out – students rarely remember everyone who's running, and this ... well, they'll certainly remember you."
"Yeah. Maybe." Kurt says unconvincingly, sitting down at the table.
"Rachel has a point," Mike attempts to comfort him. "With this strategy, there's no way they'd forget you. I mean, pink, rainbow in the background with a picture of you with a unicorn horn? Unforgettable."
Kurt makes a small noise to indicate he's listening, but doesn't elaborate further. The door opens and Quinn, Sam, Santana and Blaine stroll in. Kurt and Brittany put aside their project for now, placing the controversial poster back in her room. Mike gets up promptly from the kitchen table and collapses onto the couch.
There's too many of them – ten is excessive. Eight is pushing it usually, but ten tips them over the edge and he almost wants to point it out to them. On the other hand, it could just be him being childish and petulant about Blaine and the Blaine & Rachel show that is to follow tonight... He's not being very fair on that score though, because in reality, most of them sing a little when they get together on these nights.
Mike ends up on the right of Finn, who is wedged between Puck and Mike. Neither of Puck or Finn are exactly happy with how the evening is panning out. None of the three men imagined it to go quite like this, and can't help but be a little disappointed. Both Finn and Puck are handling it much better than Mike though, who hasn't said a word in the last fifteen minutes.
Everyone is too loud. This is what happens when too many people try to squeeze into an apartment – he's sure a neighbour is going to complain. Mr. Sanders downstairs always bangs on the ceiling, but they usually pay no heed. Yes, they are those awful neighbours.
Brittany is humming loudly to a song he's not familiar as she sits on the arm of Santana's chair, with the other girl adding words every now and then. Quinn and Sam are laughing at something that is probably nonsensical from their position on the floor, Sam leaning back against Rachel's chair. Rachel and Kurt are squeezed into her chair while Blaine – to his utter disgust – takes a seat on the arm of the sofa Mike is at. Why baffles him, but nonetheless, he's sitting beside Blaine. Great.
Finn begins to fidget with the ipod, "Are you going to sing, Finn?" Blaine asks, interested. He always gives the impression of being interested. (Mike resents it because he can't always do that.)
The other boy shakes his head at the notion, "Definitely not now. Maybe after a beer and if I think of a good song."
"So, is this like a formal and organised thing or do you just spontaneously start singing?" Sam asks, mostly directing the question towards Rachel. It doesn't take a genius to work out who pulls the strings in this instance.
"Oh, it's just a silly little thing we do," she chuckles, and the others all exchange looks. It's far from a 'silly little thing' to Rachel.
"It's really important to Rachel," Quinn whispers in Sam's ear, to which he nods. As everyone separates into their own conversations, Mike can feel what is coming next and waits in dread for whatever opening he has to work with.
"So you're not a fan of these things, no?" Blaine asks, smiling.
What does he know? Mike doesn't hate them or is 'not a fan of them' per se, it's just not his favourite way to spend free time. But what does Blaine know? They haven't even had a conversation that outlasted hello and how are you. Mike, feeling indignant and stubborn, scoffs, "I do."
"Oh." He seems like he was unprepared for that answer, and his forehead wrinkles in confusion, "I thought you never sang and didn't like it?"
"No." Mike dismisses him, "In fact, I have something tonight and everything.."
He's not sure what he's saying, but it takes him all of five seconds to realise he's dug himself a ditch that he just has to jump into now. There's no getting out of it unless he wants to surrender all pride which is pretty much out of the question. His brain flies as he struggles to think of a song before the question is asked.
Too late. "Oh, great. What song is it?"
"Umm." He stalls for a minute, pretending Finn had nudged him as he was laughing. Mike decides that he may as well make the most of this - if he has to sing, he's going to do it well, and he's going to sing a good song. "Finn," He calls his attention, then hands him his ipod and gives him the song name. Clearing his throat, Mike shoots Rachel a look that somehow (he can't believe his luck) she understands, and refrains from commenting on his sudden turn about.
"You only stay with me in the morning," He starts as confidently as he possibly can, and the room turns deadly silent. It's not every day, after all, that Mike Chang stands up to sing. He's somewhat worried about the reaction because if anyone pays attention, it's quite clear who he is directing at.
(Or not. Mike's subtle, unlike some of his friends. He just wants her to know.)
His eyes turn to Santana's as he continues, "You only hold me when I sleep,
I was meant to tread the water,
But now I've gotten in too deep."
From standing in front of his seat on the couch, he walks around the coffee table as he sings, eyes skimming over everyone but straying back to Santana in the end. Her brow is crinkled, as if in confusion, but she doesn't look away even so.
"For every piece of me that wants you,
Another piece backs away." The attention he's getting from her boosts him, and his spirits rise dramatically. With this, Mike begins to get into the swing of the song, and jumps up onto the coffee table. Rachel objects loudly, but Kurt pulls her back down and covers her mouth until she gives up.
Mike is fully serenading now if anyone pays attention; standing on the table, facing Santana and holding her gaze. "you give me something,
That makes me scared, alright?
This could be nothing,
but I'm willing to give it a try.
Please give me something
Because someday I might know my heart."
Except he knows his heart, he wants to scream. He knows and he wants to tell her (desperately) and is starting to feel that if he doesn't soon, it won't bode well for the future. That may just be the mumbo-jumbo in him, but he needs to get it out.
As he finishes, Mike nods to everyone, but lands on her last. He knows his expression is one of expectancy, but he doesn't care. Santana smirks, "No wonder you don't sing regularly."
"Santana!" Rachel scolds, "I thought it was beautiful, Mike. I won't lie to you, it was a little pitchy at some parts, but no one without a musical ear wouldn't notice it was that small a difference. You should honestly sing more each week."
He's not even quite listening to Rachel and her attempts at compensating for Santana's biting comment because the comment was so biting to him. Had it been anyone else she said it to, he would laugh and put it down to being her.
That was cold though. He clearly sang the song for her, and for her to put it down so cruelly is not something he admires. Maybe she's not who he thinks she is. He sits down and risks another glance at her, to find her looking at him intently. Just as quick it's gone though, and she's winking at him. Mike sighs.
"That was really good, Mike," Sam tells him, smiling. Mike actually likes this guy strangely enough, and makes a mental note to talk to him properly at some point. Quinn deserves it at least. (He tries not to think about whether Santana deserves it.) "I hate to follow it up, but I'm gonna' give it a shot." He jogs over to the door and picks up a guitar that Mike hadn't noticed before, and he knows it's not Puck's.
"You play?" Puck asks, gesturing to the instrument. Mike nods, wanting to know the answer, before realising that had he been asked that question he would respond sarcastically.
Sam seems to sense that that's not the way to go here though, and only nods his head. He takes a breath and flashes Quinn a smile, who is staring at him with a sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her face that he so rarely see's. Her expression is almost playful, and the only people he's ever seen bring that out in her is Puck and Finn.
"If we take this bird in,
With its broken leg,
We can nurse it,
She said.
Come inside,
For a little lie down with me,
If you fall asleep,
It wouldn't be the worst thing.
But when I wake up,
Your make-up is on my shoulder.
And tell me, if I lie down,
Would you stay now,
And let me hold you?"
There's no doubting that Sam's singing is a serenade to Quinn, who is loving every minute of it. Her smile is luminous and her eyes haven't left his for the entire performance. She's clapping happily to the beat – along with everyone else (goes without saying that some more enthusiastically than others) – while Sam pulls off the song flawlessly. Mike is impressed by the boys voice as it's surprisingly good. Figures that the two new people would be also better than him at singing. Sometimes, Mike thinks he has the worst luck. (His luck is just fluctuating at a rapid pace tonight.)
Sam leans down, still rocking out his guitar, so that he is at eye-level with his girlfriend, "But If I kissed you,
Would your mouth read this truth?
Darling, how I miss you
Strawberries taste like lips do.
And It's not complete yet,
musn't get our feet wet
'cause that leads to regret
And diving in too soon.
I'll owe it all to you,
my little bird."
He's simply playing the guitar then for a moment, and looks around to everyone else, as if just remembering they're all still in the room. He smiles at them charmingly, leaning close to Rachel as she dances energetically. Before Mike realises what is even happening, Brittany pulls him up and begins dancing with him. They've always been dance partners. His broken dream and her struggling dream.
"And of all these things I'm sure of," He sings to everyone, eyes roaming around the room, but he turns back slowly to Quinn then. "I'm not quite certain of your love."
"But if I kissed you,
Would your mouth read this truth?
Darling, how I miss you.
Strawberries taste how lips do,
And it's not complete yet." Though Mike has never heard the song before, he senses it doesn't actually end there, but Sam decides to finish it. Everyone claps and there's pats on the back all round as Sam goes to put his guitar back. When he returns, Quinn gives him a quick peck on the lips. Even Mike knows she's not one for PDA. He does know, however, that Sam Evans is going to be one lucky man tonight.
Mike glances over at Santana, to find her chatting away to Blaine about god knows what.
Maybe he should ask Sam for some tips.
So I gave you the whole chapter because I felt bad for not updating quickly, but I have good reason. Or bad reason - I came down with tonsilitis :( It was quite the awful one. In any case, I'm feeling much better now, so I thought I'd give you this. I hope you enjoy! Also, what pairings you're seeing here - I'd like to remind - may not be the endgame. Just to keep that in mind! For people looking for explosively dramatic Finchel, there is Finchel coming up, but this is not centered around Finchel. I chose it as the pairing to search for because it gets most publicity. Anyway, thanks for all your wonderful feedback, I look forward to hearing more ;)
I don't own Glee, Friends, "You Give Me Something" by James Morrison, "Little Bird" by Ed Sheeran (lovely, lovely song) or "She's Always a Woman To Me" by Billy Joel. All amazing songs actually, I'd rec giving them a listen :)
Until next time mes amis,
CN.