AN: I don't own Glee or it's characters. As always I would love reviews, and any suggestions for future stories.

Chapter 8: Genetics

By Hikako

So Puck was pretty much convinced that genetics... genetics were bullshit some times. He used to think it was awesome when one of the kids would do something exactly like their parents used to: he laughed so hard when Artie and Brittany's oldest son would stand up, wave his hands in the air, and yell 'PREACH!' whenever Mercedes broke out into an Aretha Franklin song. It still kinda scared him whenever Amanda pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail and became a mini-Quinn. The memory of seeing his little brown-eyed Sarah belt out 'Don't Rain on my Parade' with a huge smile on her face in her little black skirt and having the auditorium erupt into applause still made his heart swell with pride. Not to mention when an exasperated Rachel came home with a very excited Tyler (their youngest) sporting a mohawk and thinking it was the coolest haircut ever invented since the beginning of time! (Mostly cause it is!)

Then there are the Saturday mornings when he comes down the stairs and finds a federal mailbox sitting in the middle of his living room. When he wakes up to the sounds of someone trying to sneak stolen traffic signs and construction site debris into their room. (Although the giant wooden spool coffee table is badass and he remembers how many times he himself had wanted one back in high school.) The times he is pulled from a deep and well deserved sleep by his wife's insistant pokes to the ribs at 12:01 AM because of a missed curfew. The moments he sits in an elementary, then junior high, and finally a high school principal's office and swears that his mother's ghost is standing behind him and laughing at the irony of the situation. So he can't really say he's surprised when he opens the front door, at too-fuckin'-early AM, to see a police officer on his porch. Fuck my life.

"Sir. Is this delinquent your son?"

"Dude, Finn, you know he is."

It was easy to see why most of the Gleek-ids (Kurt's phrase, not his) were scared straight by their Uncle Finn or Officer Hudson escorting them home looking very intimidating in his dark blue uniform, deep voice, and belt full of weapons that could possibly kill, maim, or stun a person. (Who the hell would give Finn Hudson a weapon of any kind, Puck would never vote for that guy again!) Except Michael just has this bored look on his face that says he couldn't care less while Officer Hudson has got his shoulder in a grip that looks like it snap his collarbone. The only thing running through Puck's mind: please God don't let him have have commited a felony.

"As if that stupid haircut wasn't proof enough!" A voice (a very bitchy voice filled with attitude that Puck would know anywhere) said from behind Finn, and in an instance Officer Hudson was gone and his boy Finn is standing there, holding his dumbass son by the scruff of his neck. "San, baby," Finn said over his shoulder in that half-whiny voice that simultaneously asked his wife not to emasculate him and begged her to do it at the same time, "I'm handling this, just go back to the car."

Finn turned his body and Puck saw his oldest friend Santana standing there on his sidewalk, HBIC poise struck perfectly with hand on outthrust hip and head balanced on opposite shoulder, with her spare hand holding the shoulder of her middle daughter Sierra. Poor girl looked so embarassed standing there in a way too short party dress (honestly Puck didn't even need to see the back to know it barely covered her ass), bedecked in some of the gaudiest gold jewelry (guess who bought those for her), with her dad in his police uniform, her mother in a fluffy bathrobe and matching slippers, and the look on Sierra's face told Puck that his favorite god-daughter just wanted the earth to swallow her up right then. Puck's thought: Oh please God, let them have a robbed bank!

No such luck.

"Do you know where your son was twenty minutes ago?" Santana half-asked, half-yelled. Puck took a deep breath and put a helpless expression on his face before replying. "I suppose it would be a bad idea to diffuse the tension with a joke like... 'underneath that skirt?'"

"Ha! Good one, Po-OW! Police brutality!" Michael stood there glaring at Finn while rubbing the back of his head. Sierra covered her face with her hands but she was practically glowing red at this point. Puck knew before the end of the night that she was going to be even more embarassed. Needless to say neither Santana or Finn found the joke amusing. Shaking his head Puck let them the four of them into the living room, where Sierra and Michael were sat on the couch while Finn and Santana stood over them like a double police interrogation and Puck sitting in his recliner waiting to hear the story.

"Let's start where the two sixteen-year olds decided to sneak out of the house on a school night..." Puck said.