AN: I've been inspired by Nova802 to write a drabble from a prompt at the P/R LJ meme (although it's not much of a drabble b/c I'm kinda wordy like that) Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Prompt at the bottom. Please read and review! :)
Puck was the man. Seriously. The. Man. He had thought of everything for his three-year anniversary date with Rachel tonight. He even took the day off to make sure everything went off without a hitch.
Dozen roses? Check.
Reservations at Burgundy's? Check.
Rachel's dress from the dry cleaners? Check.
Champagne for later? Check.
Babysitter? Damn.
Obviously, Puck had not thought of everything. Looking at the clock nearing five o'clock, he groaned. Rachel would be off work in an hour, and he needed to be there to surprise her. Hastily, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed Madison, their go-to sitter.
"Sorry, Mr. P, but Rory is taking me out tonight," she said excitedly. "It's our one-month anniversary!"
The thought quickly (and very briefly) crossed his mind to let them both come and babysit, but his daughter was at an impressionable ten months old, and heck if he was going to leave two hormone-driven teenagers alone in a house with a sleeping baby and hours to kill before he and Rachel came home.
"Oh, well, that's okay, Madison," he conceded. "There's always another time. Have fun on your date," he grumbled, hanging up the phone.
He could call his mother or her fathers, but he honestly hated doing that to them on such short notice. (See? He's a good son.) Besides, Friday night is the Berrys' own date night, and his mom is probably playing bunko with her Pink Ladies, Red Hats, whatever they are.
Puck anxiously wracks his brain as he watches the minutes tick away on the clock. There is one person he could call…No, she wouldn't do it in a million years. Well, maybe she would, he thought. His inner monologue volleyed for dominance for another ten seconds before he resolved to call her.
Twenty minutes later, and Santana Lopez was breezing through his front door.
"I'm not sure how you talked me into this, Puckerman," she said airily, brushing past him and setting her oversized Prada bag on the kitchen counter.
"Because I'm paying you at least twice as much as my normal babysitter would cost me," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Oh yes, that's right," she grinned wickedly.
Puck smirked as he bounded up the stairs to give Allie one last kiss and grab his tie and Rachel's dress. Once he was back downstairs, he retrieved the flowers from the fridge.
"Okay," he said, putting on his tie as he spoke, "I made Allie a quick dinner, and then you'll need to give her a bath. Read her a bedtime story, sing her a song, and she'll be good to go. Got it?
"I got it," Santana huffed, shooing him out the door, "Now, go on, lover boy. Have fun with the wife. I'll be here tending to your spawn."
"Thanks again, San," Puck said sincerely. "Are you sure you are going to be okay? Now that Allie is starting to pull herself up and wanting to walk, she's more of a handful."
Puck wasn't about to admit it, but he was actually kind of nervous leaving Allie with a stranger. Well, Santana wasn't a stranger, but to Allie, she was. It had been so long since he and Rachel had been out, there had been no need for a babysitter other than Madison watching her every once in awhile for a few hours here and there. Maybe he should go back and ask Madison and Rory to watch Allie…
Santana rolled her eyes. "I think I can handle it. Go!" she cried, pointing to his car. "And tell Rachel hi," she added as an afterthought.
"We might be late!" he called out, as he pulled out of the driveway.
"Geez, think I'd never watched a kid before," Santana muttered, shutting the door. "Piece of cake." She wandered into the kitchen and began rummaging through the pantry. "Now, let's see what I can steal for dinner."
Noah pulled up to the Lima Community Theatre, where Rachel worked as artistic director, just as Rachel was locking up.
"Hey, baby," he said with a smirk.
"Noah! Hi!" she said, pleasantly surprised that he'd come to see her. "What are you doing?"
Puck strutted toward his gorgeous wife, grabbing her roughly by the hips and hauling her lips to his in a passionate kiss. When he felt Rachel melt significantly into his embrace, he broke the kiss and smiled. "I'm here to take you out on a date, Mrs. Puckerman," he whispered huskily.
"Oh really?" she said, quirking her eyebrow. "Just the two of us?"
Puck bent down to drop tiny kisses tracing the shell of her ear down to her pulse point. "Mmhmm," he murmured against her skin.
Rachel tried to concentrate on his words, but his lingering touches still tended to fry her brain even after being married for three years, and together for ten. They'd finally gotten their act together senior year of high school and had been inseparable since. But still, after all this time, her stomach flipped at the sight of him, her skin tingled when he was near, and her love continued to grow exponentially for him.
"Got your dress in the car," he said, effectively cutting into her hazed thoughts. "Why don't we go inside and get you changed," he suggested, leering at her.
"I think that sounds acceptable," Rachel flirted back, eyes gleaming.
Once they were back inside the empty theatre, Puck couldn't keep his hands to himself long enough for Rachel to change out of her clothes and into her favorite blue dress. Backing her up against the wall of her tiny office, he captured her lips once more, hands roaming and wandering across her body.
"You know, we could just skip dinner, and have alone time here," he suggested between hot kisses down her throat to the valley of her chest.
Rachel moaned at the heat he was creating in her body. Her arms and legs wrapped around him tightly as he lifted her onto his hips, the position creating a lovely friction between them. "Or we could do both," she panted.
Puck growled fiercely as he attacked Rachel's mouth and body with more fervor and desire, having received all the prompting he needed.
Forty-five minutes, quite a few mind-blowing orgasms, and a missed reservation later, Rachel and Puck were finally on their way to dinner.
"I can't believe they wouldn't let us in at Burgundy's," Rachel said, as they pulled into the IHOP. "I'm sorry we missed our reservation."
Puck simply winked, "I'm not."
Rachel blushed a deep crimson, gently pushing her hair behind her ears before reaching for the door handle.
"Oh no, you don't," Puck said, quickly jumping out of the car to rush over to open Rachel's door for her.
"Quite the gentleman tonight," Rachel mused. "Thank you," she said, graciously taking his offered hand to exit the car.
A sweet girl about sixteen led Puck and Rachel to a booth in the back, brought them two glasses of water, and told them a server would be right with them. Rachel smiled as she settled in beside Puck.
"She was cute," Rachel thought aloud. "She reminded me a little of Madison."
"Yeah," Puck said absently, seeing as he was too busy deciding between the Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity or Viva La French Toast.
"I'm so glad you were able to get Madison to watch Allie tonight," Rachel continued. "It's been so long since we've had an evening all to ourselves."
"Oh, Madison couldn't watch her tonight," Puck shrugged, finally deciding on the French toast.
"Well, then, who is watching our daughter?" Rachel asked, instantly alarmed. Surely, he wouldn't have left their child alone.
"Not to worry, hon," Puck said, gently massaging Rachel's shoulders, "Santana has everything under control."
Rachel instantly stiffened even under Puck's soothing ministrations. Puck noticed and shot a curious look in her direction.
"What?" he asked.
"Santana Lopez is watching Allie?" Rachel repeated, hoping beyond all hope she's heard her husband wrong.
"Yeah, what's the big deal?" Puck asked. "It's just Santana."
Rachel sighed and shook her head. See, it's not that Santana is a bad person. She's not. But she certainly has a reputation that Rachel does not want Allie to pick up on. Never mind, that her daughter isn't old enough to walk or say more than mama and dada and point to the cup of milk when she wants it. That is absolutely beyond the point. Santana Lopez is just…Santana. She and Santana aren't the best of friends, although they're better than they were in school. She'd just rather not have the woman who used to be sexually involved with her husband watch her child. Is that so wrong?
Rachel let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I just don't understand why you think letting Santana Lopez babysit our child is a good idea," she said incredulously.
"What?" Puck shrugged again. "She used to babysit Sarah all the time and she turned out fine," he pointed out before taking a sip of his water.
Rachel glared at Puck for a few seconds before replying, "Noah, your sister ran away and joined the circus. I don't consider that fine."
"Yeah but that wasn't Santana's fault," he said in a duh tone. "Bitch is totally terrified of clowns."
"Argh!" Rachel shrieked indignantly. "That is beyond the point, Noah. I just don't think it's a good idea to let Santana spend long periods of time entertaining our child. Honestly, does she even know anything about children?"
"She's got nieces and nephews," Puck rolled his eyes. "Brittany owns a dog. She's got everything under control. I promise."
Rachel stared doubtfully at her husband. Then, her look became chagrined. "I just get nervous. It's got nothing to do with Santana."
(It had everything to do with Santana, and Puck knew it. But he knew just to let it go.)
"I know you do, Rach," he smiled understandingly. "We'll go home right after dinner." He leaned in close to kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear, "I've got champagne at home just in case you want an encore of tonight's earlier production."
Rachel shuddered and nodded quickly. Puck pressed another kiss to her jaw just as the waitress came up to take their order.
A short meal and a too-long drive home later, Puck and Rachel were finally walking up to their front door.
Rachel paused, grabbing Puck's hand. "Is it bad that I'm bracing myself for the disaster that might await us?"
"Our daughter isn't even a year old. How much trouble could she have been?" Puck reassured her, pushing open the door to reveal Santana sponging down the counter tops.
Rachel and Puck both did a double take at how calm and collected Santana appeared.
"Oh, hey guys," she said, looking up briefly. "Have fun?"
Rachel was the first to find her voice. "Yes, it was lovely. Thank you for watching Allie tonight, Santana," she said politely.
"No big," Santana shrugged. "The little monster was cute."
Rachel bristled at the nickname, clearing her throat awkwardly. "Well, I'm going to check on her now."
As Rachel made her way up the stairs, Puck surveyed the house. The living room was clean, and the kitchen smelled like lemon Pine-Sol and a hint of gardenia. Only one person he knew smelled like gardenias.
"My mom just left, didn't she?" Puck asked.
Santana had the decency to look guilty for all of two seconds. "Yeah, about twenty minutes ago," she smirked, crossing her arms. "Allie decided to throw her food instead of eat it, and she screamed bloody murder every time I tried to get water remotely near her. So, rather than strangle her, I called for backup."
"Gee, thanks, San," he deadpanned.
"Not a problem," she winked cheekily.
"Well, Santana," Rachel said as she came downstairs, "Allie is sleeping soundly. I must say I am impressed. Maybe you'll come back and watch her again sometime?"
Rachel smiled widely at Santana whose jaw dropped. Puck bit back a chuckle as Santana shook her head. "Yeah, about that. Let's not and say we did, okay?" she said, heading for the door. "G'night, you two."
"Good night, Santana," Rachel said sweetly, tucking herself into Puck's side.
"Night, Lopez," Puck called out, kissing the top of Rachel's head.
As Puck shut the door, Rachel turned into his embrace. She reached onto her tiptoes, puckering her lips for a kiss.
"Well, now that wasn't so bad, was it?" he chuckled.
"No, it wasn't. You were right, Noah," she sighed dramatically.
"Let's go upstairs," he suggested, waggling his eyebrows and tickling her sides.
"Yes, let's," she giggled. "Happy anniversary, Noah." she said leaning in for another kiss.
"Happy anniversary, baby."
Prompt:
"I just don't understand why you think letting Santana Lopez babysit our child is a good idea."
"What? She used to babysit Sarah all the time and she turned out fine."
"Noah, your sister ran away and joined the circus. I don't consider that fine."
"Yeah but that wasn't Santana's fault. Bitch is totally terrified of clowns."