Fic: We Have Bacon? (1/1) (A Lily-Verse drabble)
Title: We Have Bacon?
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: PG-13 for Finn-related violence
Spoilers: Nope!
Summary: A quick, silly little drabble set before Cravings. A fight between Quinn and Rachel leads to violence - but not between each other.
It was a stupid fight, Quinn knew. It had no substance, no real context. There had been no build-up, no slow burn that led to an explosion, it had just happened out of nowhere. The advanced state of her pregnancy had been wearing her down - her back hurt, she was tired of having to pee all the time because of the baby pressing on her bladder, and she was just tired all the time. But none of that excused the way she’d blown up on her wife. The hurtful things she’d said about her mother, her fathers, the quasi-sister she’d never really know.
She hadn’t even driven far from the house, in the end. She’d made it to the McDonald’s a half a mile away and pulled the car into their lot. She’d turned the car off and cried, slumped over the steering wheel, until she literally had no tears left in her. With that done, she wiped her eyes and went into the restaurant, ordering two chocolate sundaes to have with Rachel. She’d had to turn the air conditioning way up to keep them from melting on the way home, but she didn’t mind - the cold felt good against the heat of the Ohio night.
When she pulled up to the house, though, the ice cream was forgotten, along with her tears. There was a dark pick-up truck in front of the house that she’d recognise anywhere, even without the “Rest in Peace Number 3” sticker on the back bumper. She stormed up the driveway - as best as a hugely pregnant woman could storm anywhere - and all but kicked the door open. On the couch, Finn jumped away from Rachel as if he’d been shot, looking at Quinn with terror in his eyes.
“Quinn!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think you’d be back this fast!”
“Obviously,” she could hear her own teeth grinding together. “My chair wasn’t even cold yet, and you’re already here putting the moves on my wife!”
“Quinn-“ Rachel began to protest, but she was silenced with a glare.
“I put up with your juvenile crap when we were in high school, Finn, but no more. Put your fists up, because we’re finally going to throw down.”
“I’m not going to hit a pregnant woman!” he protested. “Quinn, if you’d just let me explain-”
“Explain? I wouldn’t want you straining your little mind, Finn. Put your damn hands up!”
Finn made no move to, and she scowled. “If you think I won’t hit you, think again. Put your hands up!” He still didn’t move, and with a shrug she took a step closer and punched him in the groin. He fell to the ground, clutching at his man-parts and mewling pitifully.
“Quinn!” Rachel shouted, grabbing her to prevent her from following up on the punch. “He was bringing bacon! He saw I was crying, and asked me what was wrong! That’s when you came in!”
“Oh,” Quinn frowned. “Uh - sorry, Finn.”
“S’okay,” he groaned. “You’d think I’d be used to it - how many times did you hit me in the nuts when you were pregnant with Beth?”
“Uh - once or twice, I guess.” Suddenly the rest of the conversation sunk in, and Quinn turned to Rachel with an expectant grin. “We have bacon?”
Author: cranberry_pi
Rating: PG-13 for Finn-related violence
Spoilers: Nope!
Summary: A quick, silly little drabble set before Cravings. A fight between Quinn and Rachel leads to violence - but not between each other.
It was a stupid fight, Quinn knew. It had no substance, no real context. There had been no build-up, no slow burn that led to an explosion, it had just happened out of nowhere. The advanced state of her pregnancy had been wearing her down - her back hurt, she was tired of having to pee all the time because of the baby pressing on her bladder, and she was just tired all the time. But none of that excused the way she’d blown up on her wife. The hurtful things she’d said about her mother, her fathers, the quasi-sister she’d never really know.
She hadn’t even driven far from the house, in the end. She’d made it to the McDonald’s a half a mile away and pulled the car into their lot. She’d turned the car off and cried, slumped over the steering wheel, until she literally had no tears left in her. With that done, she wiped her eyes and went into the restaurant, ordering two chocolate sundaes to have with Rachel. She’d had to turn the air conditioning way up to keep them from melting on the way home, but she didn’t mind - the cold felt good against the heat of the Ohio night.
When she pulled up to the house, though, the ice cream was forgotten, along with her tears. There was a dark pick-up truck in front of the house that she’d recognise anywhere, even without the “Rest in Peace Number 3” sticker on the back bumper. She stormed up the driveway - as best as a hugely pregnant woman could storm anywhere - and all but kicked the door open. On the couch, Finn jumped away from Rachel as if he’d been shot, looking at Quinn with terror in his eyes.
“Quinn!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think you’d be back this fast!”
“Obviously,” she could hear her own teeth grinding together. “My chair wasn’t even cold yet, and you’re already here putting the moves on my wife!”
“Quinn-“ Rachel began to protest, but she was silenced with a glare.
“I put up with your juvenile crap when we were in high school, Finn, but no more. Put your fists up, because we’re finally going to throw down.”
“I’m not going to hit a pregnant woman!” he protested. “Quinn, if you’d just let me explain-”
“Explain? I wouldn’t want you straining your little mind, Finn. Put your damn hands up!”
Finn made no move to, and she scowled. “If you think I won’t hit you, think again. Put your hands up!” He still didn’t move, and with a shrug she took a step closer and punched him in the groin. He fell to the ground, clutching at his man-parts and mewling pitifully.
“Quinn!” Rachel shouted, grabbing her to prevent her from following up on the punch. “He was bringing bacon! He saw I was crying, and asked me what was wrong! That’s when you came in!”
“Oh,” Quinn frowned. “Uh - sorry, Finn.”
“S’okay,” he groaned. “You’d think I’d be used to it - how many times did you hit me in the nuts when you were pregnant with Beth?”
“Uh - once or twice, I guess.” Suddenly the rest of the conversation sunk in, and Quinn turned to Rachel with an expectant grin. “We have bacon?”