Agree To Disagree

I originally wrote this with the intent of settling my totally pointless caramel(!)/chocolate dispute with my baby, superninjagurl, but I definitely went more than a little off-track. I wish I could say read it and weep, but I think poor Emma has that part covered.
Enjoy, guys!

Emma Pillsbury stared at the high gloss finish of her wooden desktop as the silence stretched and filled up her office. It needed to be polished again on Friday, she thought to herself, cataloguing it in her memory right before she reorganized the drawers of her desk-but not until she sharpened all of her pencils and double-teamed her visitors' chairs with Lysol and Febreze. She only polished her beloved walnut desk on Friday afternoons because it meant she'd come in after another usual weekend of apartment-cleaning and-ugh-grocery shoppingto see at least one thing promisingly clean. (Of course, she would have to sanitize it once more because who knew what the janitors touched, what were on their hands, or-Heaven forbid-what communicable diseases they were unknowingly spreading.)

Her desk, even in need of a nice, labor- and precision-intensive buffing, was far easier to analyze than the couple currently occupying the seats in her office.

Puck and Kurt were staring at her like they expected her to fix all of their problems, to tweak with their inner workings to make them perfect and efficient once more. If that were the case, if she was a miracle-worker, wouldn't they think she'd work on herself first? Oh, if only eradicating obsessive-compulsive tendencies was as easy as treating discolored aluminum pans…

"So," Emma announced, decisively clapping her hands together. "What can I do for you boys today? Are you here to resolve an argumentative issue? If you want a peer mediator, one can be assigned, but I think I might have some pamphle-"

She went to leaf through the "Bullying and Peer Violence" section of her informational self-help brochures, but Puck stopped her midway, mid-sentence with a gruff "Hell no."

Emma sat back as Kurt elbowed Puck's side, blinking as Kurt silently reprimanded the other boy. "Sorry Miss Pillsbury," he apologized, "Puck's been a little unreasonable lately. One might even venture to say he's unhinged."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and Greece was built in a day," he scoffed.

"Rome," Kurt snapped. "Rome wasn't built in a day. And how does that idiom fit into this situation, pray tell?"

Puck ignored Kurt in favor of leaning forward in his chair to assess Emma with an annoyed glower. "So this nut-job over here-" he jerked his head toward Kurt, who made to interrupt.

"You asinine-"

"Kurt," Emma said sternly, "Let Puck have his say, alright? You can speak your piece after."

"Yeah," Puck grinned at Kurt in childish triumph. "Let me talk for once, Chatterella."

"Puck, no name-calling."

Kurt huffed and folded his arms across his chest. "And if you must, at least come up with something witty. I mean, Chatterella? Really?" He scoffed and turned to Emma, shaking his head in commiseration. "Some men, I tell you."

Puck glared daggers at Kurt's profile, since Kurt seemed adamant to ignore Puck's presence in the room. "Anyway… Diva over here has been trying to force his beliefs upon me!" Puck accused. She raised both of her eyebrows in undisguised shock. Kurt, telling others what to believe in? Emma could hardly find that plausible, considering how adamant Kurt was when the glee club had gone through that Grilled Cheesus phase. Puck threw his hands into the air. "He's tryin' to tell me that his way is the better way, but I know it isn't. I mean, how the hell is chocolate better than caramel, huh?" Puck demanded. Emma blinked, because what? "He's been bugging me about it whenever my tongue's not down his throat-" he ignored both Emma and Kurt's chokes of surprise in favor of ranting. "And my tongue's never been this sore since June. It's oppression, and quite frankly, I won't stand for it."

"So what," Kurt scoffed, "You're going to break up with me?"

Emma had willed the worst of her blush down by then. She cleared her throat, stopping the boys in their tracks before more damage could be done. "Wait, so this is a couple's issue?" she asked. "I just-I didn't know you two were together. I mean-why would I know about stuff like that? Still, it's not that I think it's-um, wrong or anything…" her fingers inched toward the LGBT section of her pamphlets. "But, um. So! A lover's quarrel is what we're dealing with, then." She clapped her hands once more for good measure.

Puck and Kurt stared at her like she'd confessed a secret affair with Sue or something, and just-no. Her eye twitched of its own accord, and she reached over for a good pump or two of Germ-X, out of habit. (She wished she could disinfect her brain just as easily.) "…All I want is for Kurt to cool it with the choco-fanatic behavior. It's kinda creepy."

"And your insistence on caramel is any better?" Kurt asked. "I mean, at least chocolate has antioxidants and has been proven to reduce the risks of cancer. Caramel is just sugar and calories and fat."

Before the boys could start up again, Emma stopped them. "Enough!" She frowned at Puck when he went to open his mouth. "No. Now, see, this is a perfect life lesson to be learned."

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. "How does this," he asked, gesturing between himself and Puck, "Equate to a valuable theme?"

Puck frowned at Emma. "Is this like A Sop Fable or something?"

"Aesop's, you cretin," Kurt snapped.

"'s what I said."

"It is," Emma told Kurt with a firm, sure nod. "You see, boys, this little tiff is a perfect example of how to resolve issues in a normal, functioning relationship."

"Normal?" Puck laughed.

"Functioning? Yeah right," Kurt scoffed. "And shake weights aren't the most sexually suggestive things since joysticks."

"Seriously," Emma insisted. "Think of it like this-say you two boys are two independent adults. In an ideal relationship, you two would encounter differences and have disagreements. It's completely normal." Not that she would ever know what that was like, but whatever. So she was book-smart. So what? So was Brandy Millson, the married friend with negative mothering instincts and zero interest in raising spawn she'd met in college. It worked well enough for her-Brandy went on to be a reputable guidance counselor at Fairbrook Elementary. "And let's say you two argue over something like…" she bit her lip in thought. "Like what color to paint the walls in your home."

"Why would Puck offer his opinion on something like interior décor?" Kurt asked.

Puck looked just as nonplussed. "Yeah, why would I?"

"Hypothetically," Emma said.

"Hypothetically, Puck should know better than to try and tell me to color-coordinate. I mean, just look at his wardrobe."

"It's true," Puck grudgingly admitted. "I always thought black went with everything, but-"

"Black is for people who're too lazy to make an effort to match their clothing," Puck and Kurt said in frightening unison (though Puck spoke in a teasing falsetto voice, which he quickly got thwacked for by a strangely unaffected Kurt).

Emma blinked. "Um. Okay," she said slowly. "Then let's say one of you wants to take a job opportunity, but it's in another state than where you're living."

"I've got my sights set on New York, thank you very much," Kurt said breezily, "And Puck plans on doing something on the side, like being a barista, while he self-promotes with gigs and such until he builds himself enough of a fan base to get a record deal and turn mainstream."

Puck nodded. "Or something. I'm not sure if I want to stick with music or go to the AI for culinary arts or whatever."

"You cook?" Emma asked with surprise.

"He bakes," Kurt corrected.

"I bake," Puck nodded. "And not just shit from the box, either. I make a mean tiramisu."

Kurt's eyes fluttered shut as he let out a ridiculously breathy little sigh, visibly shuddering as he presumably remembered the taste. Emma hoped Kurt wouldn't start drooling; that would just be disgusting. "Tell her about your German choco-"

"It's a Jewish chocolate cake," Puck fiercely corrected. "Jewish. Alright?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and explained to Emma, who looked more than a little lost, "He's got this… thing with anything German."

She frowned. "Isn't Hummel a Ger-"

"A ger-REAT dude? Why yes he is!" Puck stated loudly. She wondered if the expression on her face was her trademark Bambi look, but she was too scandalized to reach into the top left desk drawer (off the side, right next to her highlighters and spare erasers) to find her compact mirror and see.

"He's in denial, I'm afraid," Kurt sighed. "Anyway…"

Puck looked more than a little sour, sliding down in his seat with a pout on his face. "Can we make this quick, yo? I only agreed to this fucking couples' counseling because you totes promised me a blow-"

"Bologna sandwich." Kurt intercepted with a delicate blush, nearly tipping Puck's chair over with the force of the kick he delivered to Puck's shin. Over Puck's loud yelp, he insisted, "He justloves bologna. Kosher, of course."

"Right…" Emma wasn't fooled, but she'd rather play along than get into… the finer details. Eugh. Maybe she should make them a pamphlet goodie bag and toss a few safe sex manuals in.Be Safe, Not Sorry was a classic! It was a great deterrent-who knew intercourse was so disgustingly unhygienic (all that sweat and saliva and-gag her with a fork. Sex? No thank you), or that orgasms could be life-threatening?

"So, you wanna give us a quick recap for the road?" Puck asked once he stopped glaring daggers at Kurt.

"Agree to disagree," Emma said quickly. "All nor-"

"Normal, functioning relationships…" Puck repeated, nose wrinkled in distaste. "Didn't we already establish that we are so not one of those couples, babe?" he asked Kurt, who just shrugged.

"Shut your trap so the woman can finish, you ill-mannered barbarian." When Kurt called Puck a barbarian, Emma couldn't help noticing how Kurt said it the same way Puck called Kurt 'babe.' Maybe they had a point-that couldn't be normal, right?

"All relationships will have bumps in the road, but you don't need to let those bumps turn into, um… potholes, and your car will always be able to ride those holes-"

"Ride those holes," Puck snickered. "Come on," he insisted to an unamused Kurt, "That was pretty pervy-licious!"

"Alright," Kurt declared, standing and pulling Puck up with him, "I believe we've overstayed our welcome. Thank you for your time, Miss Pillsbury, and we'll take your suggestions into consideration."

Emma offered the two boys a weak smile, trying to give off an aura of authority and support. "Anytime, you two. Remember, always keep in mind-"

"Yeah, yeah," Puck intercepted, dragging Kurt to the door. "Compromise, let Kurt paint our awesome love-nest, brush our teeth and have lots and lots of loud and safe sex. Got it. If you don't mind, I want my bologna sandwich." He shot Kurt a devilishly handsome smirk as he threw open the office door. "Peace!"

"Thank you!" Kurt called out before the door slammed shut behind him. Emma watched, wide-eyed and close to passing out from sheer panicked shock as Puck and Kurt apparently forgot her office had glass paneling, which was transparent and-oh dear, she would need so many pairs of latex gloves and an entire bottle of Windex for the mess they were making…!