Fic: Not So Bad, After All - Glee (SPN-Style) - Puck, Puck/Rachel est. - PG-13
So, just a little something I wrote back around Christmas as part of a theme - other fandoms done in the style of "Supernatural". In this one, Puck has grown up to be a hunter of supernatural beings. He also has a family and a Kurt.
Title: Not So Bad, After All
Author: dodger_sister
Fandom: Glee
Category: Altered Reality, Fusion, Future-AU, SPN-Style
Characters/Pairing: Puck/Rachel, Kurt, Quinn & Little Noah
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Minor Language and Minor Discussions of supernatural beings, grave robbery and shoplifting.
Spoilers: “Mash-Up”.
Summary: Ten years in the future and Puck has an unusual job and an unusual family, but he loves it.
Date Written: 12/21/2009
Word Count: 1,135 words.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the “Supernatural“ concept. “Glee” belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox. “Supernatural” belongs to Eric Kripke and The CW. Not me. This story, however, is all mine.
Beta: Nope.
Author's Notes: So I was writing ‘if characters from other shows turned out to be hunters like on Supernatural’ fics for peoples for Christmas and this just came out. If you are a “Supernatural” fan and don’t know “Glee”, this probably won’t make any sense to you, cuz if you don’t know Puck, then who cares what he does in the future. Though you should care, cuz Puck is the awesome and you should watch “Glee” because it is beyond the awesome. However, if you watch “Glee” but not “Supernatural”, that’s okay. All you need to know is hunters drive around fighting supernatural beings and often it’s the only job they have time for, so criminal activity is a way to pay the bills.
Dedication: For The Thing I Can’t Live Without - “Glee” - and my sister, baylorsr , for giving me “Glee”, and yeah, cuz I can’t live without her either. Love you.
“Things haven’t turned out so bad,” he thought. “I kinda freakin’ love my life.”
Puck grinned and glanced up at the picture of his baby girl, his little shining star, Willa Gene, that was Scotch-taped to the driver’s side visor, right next to the photo of his first born pride and joy.
But he didn’t need a photo to see his first. All he had to do was look in the rearview mirror of his yellow ‘72 GTO. With studded rims.
She was chilled out in the backseat, playing Zombie BBQ on his old Nintendo DS. She saw him looking and dropped the portable in the seat next to her.
“Dad.”
“Yes, baby?” he replied with speed and efficiency. It may have been the military that bred that into him, but Puck was pretty sure it continued on for one reason - his wife.
“Shoes,” she demanded.
Puck looked at Noah’s feet, double-socked to fight off the cold. They lost her shoes when they were fleeing that last motel. Turns out, police in small towns don’t like grave robbery anymore than they do in the big city.
Not that he’d actually been robbing a grave. I mean, not actually.
Just digging up a grave to salt and burn a body so the soul of the deceased could pass on to a better place - and stop ghosting around beheading old ladies.
“And this time,” Noah went on, as she rustled through her makeup up bag for the mascara to add to her already long, dark and oh-so-Puckerman eyelashes. “We’re paying for them. I don’t like walking out of the store with the merchandise already on my person.”
On my person, he knew where she got that sort of talk from. The wife.
He must have been grinning and giving that I’m-jacking-off-in-my-head look, because the ten-year old queen of his world snapped again.
“Dad!”
This time he met her eyes in the rearview mirror and for a moment, Puck saw blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, dazzling diamond eyes, the smile that nailed him in the groin every time and hips that swung gently back and forth underneath the old favorite McKinley High cheerleading uniform.
Noah was his, and she had surely adopted his attitude and traits (the good and not-so-good), but there would be pieces of her that would forever belong to her mother. And her eyes were one of them.
It hadn’t been a surprise to their friends when Quinn had decided to give the baby up for adoption, despite Mr. Shue’s debacle of a marriage situation. And for a moment there, they thought he might take the baby anyway. But in the end, Quinn had found an agency that had a waiting list a mile long of young, well-deserving couples who wanted a baby of their very own. A few even already had some older adopted children, but Puck knew that women all loved and wanted that newborn baby smell.
So with all of these lovely couples with their arms out and their hopes up, it had been a surprise to their friends, and family and teachers and peers and glee glub peoples, even the weird curly mop-head that wrote the school blog, when Puck had decided to keep the baby himself.
It had been the most of a surprise to Puck, but the first time they had sat down with a lawyer to go over the paperwork, Puck found he couldn’t breathe.
“I…I can’t,” he’d choked out through shallow breathes. “She’s mine. And I…I think I want her.”
Quinn had stormed out of the room, Puck had expected it. Later, when Noah had come along, Puck left Quinn alone with her to say whatever she needed to; how much she loved her and how she hoped this was all the right choice for her, that she was beautiful and perfect and that no matter who else came along, Quinn would always be her mother.
Then she called Puck into the room, kissed Noah on the forehead and handed her over, silent tears rolling down Quinn’s wet and beautiful face.
And then Quinn had done something Puck hadn’t expected. She pulled him down to her, leaned in and kissed him on the forehead as well. Then she whispered for only him to hear, “I kinda wish she had come out with a mohawk.”
The sound of ZZ Top’s ‘Tush’ jerked him out of his head and Puck reached for the phone. It was the wife.
“Puck’s Love-Machine. Please enter 50 cents.”
He waited through her squawking and then with all the smooth Puck-ness he could muster after digging up a grave all night, he said, “Baby, when have I ever missed an opening night? When?”
She answered and he mimed hitting himself in the head. “Except that one time, baby. Besides, this is a big night for both of you. I would never miss it. We just gotta stop and get the Mini a new pair of shoes and…”
She scolded and he hit back. “I know, no more teaching her to shoplift. But credit card fraud is not easy and a nanny isn’t cheap and…yeah, listen, sweetie, the doctor prescribed the stuff for a reason. Go take a little pink pill and remember this one thing. You are my star. My shining, loud, bossy and shit-down-talented-star and you’re gonna kick ass out there. Now, I love you, so go.”
She loved him too, but he already knew that. “Yeah, put the fruit pie on.”
He waited until the phone was passed over to the next and then with absolutely no attempt to hide the pride in his voice, Puck said, “So, Tiny Dancer? You ready for this? Opening night for your first Broadway choreography? Piss yourself yet?”
He laughed and mimed a puking motion to Noah, who shook her head and blew a kiss at the phone. “It’s going to be great. Little Noah says she loves you and you’ll be fine. It’s all up to them now. Just remember what I told you, mess up my wife’s career and it’s back in the dumpster. Got it?”
Kurt always got it, the real thing Puck wanted to say, like thanks for being there for me and mine, now and then. Instead Puck said, “Now go. Both of you take your pills and we will be there.”
And then, before he hung up, he rushed out the thing he said to Kurt on opening nights only. “I love you, little dude. Always.”
When he flipped the phone shut, he glanced back at Noah, who was shaking her head. “Our family,” she sighed, with affection.
“Absolutely,” Puck agreed.
But he was smiling when he turned up the radio and pressed his foot to the gas.
‘Cuz yeah, he kinda freakin’ loved his life.
The End
Title: Not So Bad, After All
Author: dodger_sister
Fandom: Glee
Category: Altered Reality, Fusion, Future-AU, SPN-Style
Characters/Pairing: Puck/Rachel, Kurt, Quinn & Little Noah
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Minor Language and Minor Discussions of supernatural beings, grave robbery and shoplifting.
Spoilers: “Mash-Up”.
Summary: Ten years in the future and Puck has an unusual job and an unusual family, but he loves it.
Date Written: 12/21/2009
Word Count: 1,135 words.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the “Supernatural“ concept. “Glee” belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox. “Supernatural” belongs to Eric Kripke and The CW. Not me. This story, however, is all mine.
Beta: Nope.
Author's Notes: So I was writing ‘if characters from other shows turned out to be hunters like on Supernatural’ fics for peoples for Christmas and this just came out. If you are a “Supernatural” fan and don’t know “Glee”, this probably won’t make any sense to you, cuz if you don’t know Puck, then who cares what he does in the future. Though you should care, cuz Puck is the awesome and you should watch “Glee” because it is beyond the awesome. However, if you watch “Glee” but not “Supernatural”, that’s okay. All you need to know is hunters drive around fighting supernatural beings and often it’s the only job they have time for, so criminal activity is a way to pay the bills.
Dedication: For The Thing I Can’t Live Without - “Glee” - and my sister, baylorsr , for giving me “Glee”, and yeah, cuz I can’t live without her either. Love you.
“Things haven’t turned out so bad,” he thought. “I kinda freakin’ love my life.”
Puck grinned and glanced up at the picture of his baby girl, his little shining star, Willa Gene, that was Scotch-taped to the driver’s side visor, right next to the photo of his first born pride and joy.
But he didn’t need a photo to see his first. All he had to do was look in the rearview mirror of his yellow ‘72 GTO. With studded rims.
She was chilled out in the backseat, playing Zombie BBQ on his old Nintendo DS. She saw him looking and dropped the portable in the seat next to her.
“Dad.”
“Yes, baby?” he replied with speed and efficiency. It may have been the military that bred that into him, but Puck was pretty sure it continued on for one reason - his wife.
“Shoes,” she demanded.
Puck looked at Noah’s feet, double-socked to fight off the cold. They lost her shoes when they were fleeing that last motel. Turns out, police in small towns don’t like grave robbery anymore than they do in the big city.
Not that he’d actually been robbing a grave. I mean, not actually.
Just digging up a grave to salt and burn a body so the soul of the deceased could pass on to a better place - and stop ghosting around beheading old ladies.
“And this time,” Noah went on, as she rustled through her makeup up bag for the mascara to add to her already long, dark and oh-so-Puckerman eyelashes. “We’re paying for them. I don’t like walking out of the store with the merchandise already on my person.”
On my person, he knew where she got that sort of talk from. The wife.
He must have been grinning and giving that I’m-jacking-off-in-my-head look, because the ten-year old queen of his world snapped again.
“Dad!”
This time he met her eyes in the rearview mirror and for a moment, Puck saw blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, dazzling diamond eyes, the smile that nailed him in the groin every time and hips that swung gently back and forth underneath the old favorite McKinley High cheerleading uniform.
Noah was his, and she had surely adopted his attitude and traits (the good and not-so-good), but there would be pieces of her that would forever belong to her mother. And her eyes were one of them.
It hadn’t been a surprise to their friends when Quinn had decided to give the baby up for adoption, despite Mr. Shue’s debacle of a marriage situation. And for a moment there, they thought he might take the baby anyway. But in the end, Quinn had found an agency that had a waiting list a mile long of young, well-deserving couples who wanted a baby of their very own. A few even already had some older adopted children, but Puck knew that women all loved and wanted that newborn baby smell.
So with all of these lovely couples with their arms out and their hopes up, it had been a surprise to their friends, and family and teachers and peers and glee glub peoples, even the weird curly mop-head that wrote the school blog, when Puck had decided to keep the baby himself.
It had been the most of a surprise to Puck, but the first time they had sat down with a lawyer to go over the paperwork, Puck found he couldn’t breathe.
“I…I can’t,” he’d choked out through shallow breathes. “She’s mine. And I…I think I want her.”
Quinn had stormed out of the room, Puck had expected it. Later, when Noah had come along, Puck left Quinn alone with her to say whatever she needed to; how much she loved her and how she hoped this was all the right choice for her, that she was beautiful and perfect and that no matter who else came along, Quinn would always be her mother.
Then she called Puck into the room, kissed Noah on the forehead and handed her over, silent tears rolling down Quinn’s wet and beautiful face.
And then Quinn had done something Puck hadn’t expected. She pulled him down to her, leaned in and kissed him on the forehead as well. Then she whispered for only him to hear, “I kinda wish she had come out with a mohawk.”
The sound of ZZ Top’s ‘Tush’ jerked him out of his head and Puck reached for the phone. It was the wife.
“Puck’s Love-Machine. Please enter 50 cents.”
He waited through her squawking and then with all the smooth Puck-ness he could muster after digging up a grave all night, he said, “Baby, when have I ever missed an opening night? When?”
She answered and he mimed hitting himself in the head. “Except that one time, baby. Besides, this is a big night for both of you. I would never miss it. We just gotta stop and get the Mini a new pair of shoes and…”
She scolded and he hit back. “I know, no more teaching her to shoplift. But credit card fraud is not easy and a nanny isn’t cheap and…yeah, listen, sweetie, the doctor prescribed the stuff for a reason. Go take a little pink pill and remember this one thing. You are my star. My shining, loud, bossy and shit-down-talented-star and you’re gonna kick ass out there. Now, I love you, so go.”
She loved him too, but he already knew that. “Yeah, put the fruit pie on.”
He waited until the phone was passed over to the next and then with absolutely no attempt to hide the pride in his voice, Puck said, “So, Tiny Dancer? You ready for this? Opening night for your first Broadway choreography? Piss yourself yet?”
He laughed and mimed a puking motion to Noah, who shook her head and blew a kiss at the phone. “It’s going to be great. Little Noah says she loves you and you’ll be fine. It’s all up to them now. Just remember what I told you, mess up my wife’s career and it’s back in the dumpster. Got it?”
Kurt always got it, the real thing Puck wanted to say, like thanks for being there for me and mine, now and then. Instead Puck said, “Now go. Both of you take your pills and we will be there.”
And then, before he hung up, he rushed out the thing he said to Kurt on opening nights only. “I love you, little dude. Always.”
When he flipped the phone shut, he glanced back at Noah, who was shaking her head. “Our family,” she sighed, with affection.
“Absolutely,” Puck agreed.
But he was smiling when he turned up the radio and pressed his foot to the gas.
‘Cuz yeah, he kinda freakin’ loved his life.
The End