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Family Affairs	By : quinnfabraysmut Category: G through L > Glee Views: 41876 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Note: Plot by mymyself19, smut by me.
Who knew there could be so many damn parks in a city?
It was ridiculous.
He looked everywhere for a boy with his skin tone, his nose, his hair color and, perhaps, even a badass mohawk.
Even he knew that was a long shot.
Quinn was attached to his guns… maybe she would pay tribute to her lost love.
But, he didn’t find any three-year-old kid who looked like a miniature Puckmeister.
He was sure that he’d fucked a boy into Quinn.
But, just in case, he stared at every little blonde girl with hazel eyes and foxy smile.
If his child was a girl, he was sure she had that smile of Quinn’s that always got him hard in no time.
No luck.
He was losing his patience. And fast.
After being run out of another park by mothers who thought he was a pedophile, he’d had enough.
The Puckerone likes them young but not that young.
He was proud, but it embarrassed him when that happened.
Regardless, he needed something, anything, different that could help find Quinn and his kid.
He got another lucky break.
Just when he was becoming very desperate, God smiled on him… yes. Him.
He was starving and he was fed up with the granola bars and potato chips from the motel’s machine.
So he did what he did best.
He looked for what he wanted and took it. To hell with consequences.
He stood in front of a nice restaurant planning to eat a nice meal… never mind that he had barely a dime to his name.
The name of the restaurant was Junior’s.
He entered the restaurant with his usual swagger and demanded a table.
When the maître d’ asked for his reservation, he charmed his way into the woman’s good graces.
He still had it.
After tasting the most delicious food he had ever eaten, he enjoyed his beer and looked around the place.
It was nice.
He’d seen his share of high-end restaurants, mostly by begging, stealing or doing exactly what he was doing here.
In this restaurant, he was easily the worst dressed.
These snobs were all the same.
When the same waitress handed him the menu containing the desserts, Puck asked her about the name of the restaurant.
It was just an offhanded way to further charm her, maybe right into her pussy.
“You aren’t from the city, are you?” the woman asked.
He shook his head and gave her his best smirk.
“The owner, Mrs. Fabray, named this restaurant af—“
Puck choked on his beer.
The waitress patted Puck’s back helping him regain his breath.
“What did you say?” he asked finally.
“Mrs. Fabray, Quinn Fabray, owns this restaurant... she named it after her son, Junior. I can get you into the kitchen to see where all the magic happens,” she flirted.
Puck was somewhere else, though.
He didn’t even take notice of the name.
He had a son, and now he knew he was close.
And then he smirked again.
She still had the hots for him even though he’d left her.
She named their kid after him even.
Quinn would take him back with open arms, and Russell Fabray would have to take him into the family. Finally.
And, he’d make his boy love him… he’ll tell him the best stories.
When he’s older… at least 10.
The waitress mistook his smirk for something else, wrote her number on her pad and left it on the table.
“My shift finishes in an hour. We can go the club next door if you want. The Fabrays own it too, and they let employees in as a benefit. So, what do you say? Two free drinks per night.”
“Sure, babe. Bring me the check now okay?” Puck dismissed her.
He didn’t usually turn down girls, but his head was somewhere else.
He was the luckiest son of a bitch ever.
He would work Daddy Fabray until he let him run the club.
He would have pussy to choose from every damn day, and he already had some ideas on how to use the business as a cover for more lucrative and darker activities.
He didn’t even bother to consider that the waitress had said that Quinn owned the restaurant and club.
If he had, he might have reconsidered his strategy.
Puck stopped daydreaming when the girl brought his check.
Scanning his surroundings, he targeted the man at the next table.
He put his skills to work and stole the man’s wallet from his jacket and paid the bill in cash.
And then, he left.
Outside, he looked at the club.
It was just ten o’clock, and the street was already crowded. The line went around the corner.
He tried to enter, but the bouncer at the door denied his entrance. He wasn’t on the list.
“Dude, you have no idea who you are talking to. When I run the place, your ass is the first one I’m gonna fire, jackass,” Puck threatened.
The bouncer simply passed the clipboard to his partner and then proceeded to lift Puck like a ragdoll and throw him in the nearest alleyway.
He would have punched the guy, but he didn’t want blood on his jeans.
***
“Mr. Fabray, to what do we owe this honor? Where’s Ms. Lopez?” Dave asked surprised when Russell came into the room.
“I sent her away on business. You’ll be reporting directly to me this month,” Russell answered.
Since Quinn and Brittany opened the club, it had been an unqualified success.
It was great for the pair, but both Santana and Russell were worried.
Most customers were clients or associates of theirs, and despite the fact there hadn’t been any problems so far, Russell and Santana wanted to shore up its future.
So they went behind their loves’ backs to assure their security and avoid any resistance their blonde beauties would put up.
Behind the scenes, they orchestrated it so that their chosen men were hired as bouncers and bartenders.
They were more underhanded about it than they usually were, “taking care” of the other applicants with threats for those who resisted and bribes for those who didn’t.
Russell paid all their guys who worked in the club, matching their club salary, and, in exchange, every month, the club boys would report to them.
This was the only way Russell and Santana could keep from worrying to death.
Quinn was too smart, though.
Russell couldn’t handle this.
Quinn could always sniff him out, mostly because she always knew where he was.
She wanted to know where he was all the time.
Jealousy was often used as foreplay.
She just wanted him safe.
So, Santana handled these meetings with the club boys.
But not this month.
There was too much at stake to leave this in Santana’s otherwise capable hands.
This had to be dealt with from the very top.
“Well, the guy from last month hasn’t come by the club anymore,” Dave said, looking at the notes they’d taken.
David Karofsky had been a popular prize fighter in the city until a crazy fan attacked him one night with a knife.
He barely survived, and the injuries ended his career.
Russell snatched him up and made him the Fabray Enterprises head of security.
He had been the one to recommend all the club boys, personally, to Russell.
They were all loyal, 100%.
“What else?” Russell asked.
“The drug situation is no longer a situation,” he said.
“What drug situation?” he asked.
“Oh. Sorry, sir. I assumed Ms. Lopez had told you. Some guys have been trying to sell this new drug in the club, an—”
“Does Brittany or my wife know anything about this?” Russell interrupted.
“No, Sir. Ms. Lopez’s instructions were very clear on that. We only tell them the minor stuff, but anything major has to be left alone until we discuss the situation with her,” Dave replied.
Russell nodded. He had taught Santana well.
“If that’s all, the meeting is adjourned. Good job.” Russell stood up from his chair.
“Well, Sir, there is one more thing. We don’t know if it’s anything, really, so I almost didn’t mention it. But, Ms. Lopez always says we should report everything, no matter how small,” Dave said.
“What is it?” Russell inquired.
“The other night a guy, a real loser-type, demanded to be let inside the club. He claimed that when he owned the place, he was going to fire Azimio. He disposed of him in the alley… I really don’t think it’s anything,” Dave explained.
Things like this really happened a lot.
Being the coolest club in the city, people would try anything to get in.
There was just a little doubt in Dave’s mind, so, he mentioned it.
Russell froze.
“Who is Azimio?” Russell coldly asked.
Afraid he had done something wrong, Azimio gulped and raised his hand.
“Sir, with all due respect, Azimio reports to me, so if something’s wrong, I am responsible,” Dave said.
“Relax. Nobody is in trouble.” Every man in the room breathed a sigh of relief. “For now.”
“Azimio was it?” At the nod, Russell stared him seriously. “Describe the man.”
“Uh, I think, he was tall, white but like tanned, hard features…” Azimio chuckled, “and black hair styled in a horrible Mohawk. He w—”
“Everybody out. Dave, stay.” The others fled the room, relieved they were escaping and also a bit worried they’d have to break in a new boss.
When the door closed, Russell spoke deadly serious.
“Karofsky, who knows about this—the mohawk guy?”
“Just the boys who were in the room, sir, I swear,” Dave gulped.
“Listen to me. I want you to tell your boys to forget it. Azimio never saw him and the others didn’t hear anything. Do you understand me?” When Dave nodded, Russell continued, “I need you on high alert. This could mean danger for my family, do you understand?”
Russell didn’t wait for an answer.
“Keep your eyes open and your ears to the ground. Report as normal to Santana except for this. If you see him again, I want to know right away directly. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good… now, we’re done.”
Russell stood.
“Oh, and, Dave, you’ve been loyal for years… and I trust you to do handle this just as I’ve asked… you’ve done a good job so far.”
“Thank you, sir. Will do, sir,” David said, then left.
Dave owed everything to Russell Fabray, giving him a chance when he didn’t know what he’d do, so he’d make sure not to screw this up.
He just hoped this poor loser knew what he was getting into if he persisted in this.
***
The Fabrays were loaded, so they lived for sure in the richest part of the city.
He had narrowed down the number of parks from 85 to 21.
Now that he had found a place he knew they owned, it surely meant they lived not far from there.
This narrowed it down to 13.
They were still a lot, but at least now he could visit them all every day and maybe he’d be lucky to spot his kid.
However, that damned spawn of his was nowhere to be found.
It had been three weeks and still nothing.
On day 26, it happened.
He was smoking a cigarette on a bench at park number 7 of the day when Puck spotted her.
Quinn, hotter than ever, came into the park alone.
Time had been good to his baby mama.
Damn, he couldn’t wait to tap that. Again.
He watched her from a far.
He needed to think this through. He had only one chance for this to go smoothly.
Then, he saw a little blonde boy run into her arms, obviously very happy to see his mommy.
She hugged him fiercely and dotted his small face with lots of kisses, making the boy squeal.
It was cute, but Puck missed it.
He was focused on who he thought may be the nanny. She was fine.
He looked at the boy again and grunted.
He was the splitting image of his mother.
That’s why he hadn’t been able to recognize him.
He figured his eyes were even her shade of hazel.
Damn it. He looked like nothing like him.
Well, maybe he was a badass like his old man, he convinced himself.
Back to the plan. Now that he knew where they spent their afternoons, he just had to find the perfect moment to approach them.
Surely when they saw him they would be thrilled.
Quinn named the kid after him, after all. That meant she still hoped he would come back, right?
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Family Affairs