Authors' Note: So this is something I was working on like crazy for awhile (because it started with just the first part as a drabble and then spiraled REALLY out of control considering its length) but then stopped. Now I'm posting the first half (more like first third, probably) to hopefully motivate me to finish the rest because I really did want this to be done and up before the actual final season started.

I'm a little clueless about the timeline on the actual show because I stopped watching something in the middle of season 3 and really stopped paying attention by the end of 4, but I tried to do my research and get it right. Either way, this is my play on season 6, with everything from the previous seasons holding true - Finn dying, Rachel making it on Broadway and then leaving to do TV in LA, Puck and Quinn getting back together (though I've completely killed that during the time jump from where the story begins).

Regardless, I hope you enjoy the snapshots I've created and I promise to finish/post the last part as soon as I can (my goal is Christmas). As always, thank you for those who still bother following me/my stuff. You guys rock. :)

"I know, Ma. I will. Okay. I remember. Yeah. Yes. Okay. I will. I am. Okay. Love you, too. Yeah. Yes. Sorry. Okay. Bye!"

Puck couldn't get the front door closed fast enough, releasing a heavy sigh into the cool night air the second there was a barrier between him and his mother's incessant talking. He loved her, of course, and owed her more than he even really liked to think about, but he'd reached his limit. This was his third time living at home, and so far it hadn't been a charm. On the contrary, it was a daily reminder of everything he'd managed to screw up in his so-called adult life.

His steps away from the house were quick and strong, partially to ensure his mom didn't follow him and partially because it was October in Ohio. He wasn't exactly sure where he was headed (story of his life), but luckily it was Lima and his options were limited. Plus, he was 110% sure he needed a drink, and somewhere where no one would bother him, so that narrowed it down even further. Within five minutes he'd walked to the part of town that was just off the main drag, pulling open the heavy wooden door of a local dive bar that was frequented by almost no one but still managed to stay in business somehow. He found a stool somewhere near the end and ordered a Jameson on the rocks. His first thought afterward was how nice it was to be old enough to drink legally - though the bar probably wasn't the type of place that would have carded him regardless. Secondly, even though he was exhausted and wanted to unwind and order at least three more of the same thing, he had to consider that he was barely making more than minimum wage at Burt's tire shop and couldn't exactly afford to binge.

Then again, he was in Lima and there weren't exactly an abundant amount of other things worth spending his money on outside of booze. Other than maybe his own place. Legit, he was totally grateful his mom let him move back in again. And they got along fine, even more than usual because she'd never really treated him like a kid and he could finally appreciate how hard she'd worked to keep their family afloat all those years. So he helped out around the house and with Sarah and stuff, but he would honestly kill himself if he was still there this time next year; he was already starting to feel like the loser he'd always wanted to avoid becoming, and that kind of damning evidence would just be the nail in the coffin. It was hard enough being the only person left who hadn't already chalked it up to being a done deal.

Well, him and maybe her.

Puck watched Rachel take a few hesitant steps into the bar, then sit at the very first stool in almost the same exact manner he had - more just falling into the seat, so overcome with exhaustion and what he knew on him was depression that it was like he would have fallen to the floor from being so beaten down by life if the stool hadn't been there. She managed a small smile when she ordered quietly, the bartender handing her the large glass of water before working on something stronger. He watched her take the buzzing cell phone that she'd let fall onto the bar back into her palm and then directly into the glass, the mobile device bobbing for a few seconds before it quickly sank to the bottom. She sighed heavily and accepted her cocktail from the bartender, and she must have heard his light laughter because her eyes lifted quickly and met his. And despite each of their respective bad moods, they both smiled and managed to silently coordinate meeting in the middle of the bar.

"I didn't know you were in town," he started with, using his drink to buy him some time when she'd just shrugged and sighed into her own sip. "Just visitin' or …?"

"LA wasn't what I thought it was going to be," she admitted solemnly, sounding as lost as she looked.

"I could have told you that."

He was smiling because he loved how they could just skip all the small talk bullshit and get to the meat of matter, though he wasn't sure if it was because it was so unlike Rachel to skip anything when it came to talking or if it was because he'd come here not to talk at all. It didn't really matter, though, because he could see her pissy attitude about to come back, so he nudged her leg with his and downshifted to a smirk that hopefully let her know he wasn't judging but rather just lending his own kind of support; Los Angeles certainly hadn't been his dream come true, nor was anything else he'd tried in the recent past. If anyone could empathize with floundering, it was him.

"So what's next?"

"I'm not sure," she breathed out, her fingers fanning through her hair before she rested her elbow against the bar top and supported her head against her hand. "Daddy thinks I should take some time off, but I'm not exactly the type of person who can just sit around doing nothing."

"You?" He joked, finishing off his drink and pointing at both of their glasses to indicate a refill for each of them. She smiled at him gratefully, and he took some pride in her willingness to hang around with him some more - maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all. Then again, two more drinks later and he wasn't entirely sure if she was staying because she enjoyed his company or the shit he couldn't stop himself from saying.

"S'horseshit. I had no beef with Trouty for scammin' on Q, but he still hates me for something that happened before he was even at McKinley." Puck huffed, swirling the ice in his glass. "I never even slept with 'Cedes, but Sam took the whole thing way too seriously."

"I think we all took high school way too seriously," she commented, moving her straw from one side of the glass and then the other. "So you went to New York after … the whole Quinn thing?"

"Just for a visit." He shook his head. "S'not the place for me. Not now, anyway."

She nodded and he might have anticipated the question if he wasn't finishing off the last of his fourth whiskey. "What happened with Quinn, if you don't mind me asking?" She paused for just a second, sounding less bashful when she added, "Kurt is a terrible source for the truth."

"Preach." He still remembered once when he'd thought Finn and Rachel had sex because of something Kurt had said and it turned out the guy was talking about an actual garden; Puck had thought he was just being a nerd and using the old flower metaphor for virginity. "I don't know." He sighed when she just looked at him, and wished he had another drink for after he admitted the truth. "I think we both just thought it was something that it never was."

She smiled softly, resting her hand on his knee before giving him the same look he remembered giving her earlier in the night. "I could have told you that."

He chuckled at her observation, but left it at that - mostly because it had only been a few weeks since he left Connecticut and he was still kind of pissed he'd went into the whole thing so blindly in the first place. He'd had genuine feelings for Quinn and he knew she'd felt the same, but they just weren't a good match and they were both too stupid to see that before they ended up ruining everything - his career in the military and their friendship, to name a couple. "I should head out. Work tomorrow."

She nodded shyly, then checked her watch with wide eyes. "I can't believe it's past midnight."

"Is this past your bedtime?" He asked while sliding his arms into his jacket, a smile on his lips. "You did just turn 21, right? Not 12?"

"Shut up," she laughed, pushing him in the shoulder and covering her mouth with her hand to hide her increased amusement when he actually bobbled on his feet. "At least I went to Breadstix with my fathers and not Chuck E. Cheese's."

"It was Sarah's birthday, not mine. And, believe me, neither of us wanted to be there."

She pulled on her coat and flipped her hair out of the back, Puck trying not to see the whole thing in slow motion but blaming the alcohol nonetheless. "I can't believe she's in high school now." Her voice was full of wonder, and they shared a look that held way too much history in it. He walked ahead of her just to break the stare, but held the door open after he exited and waited until she was outside with him before making any motion to leave.

"This was fun, Noah."

"Yeah."

"Even if I did come all the way out here to avoid running into anyone who could possibly know me."

He chuckled then, nodding more. "Me, too." Then he looked up, his expression and voice holding a little less amusement than before. "But, ya know, this wasn't bad."

"Yeah," she echoed, her eyes eventually falling to her feet for a few moments before landing back on him. "Maybe we can not plan to meet up again?"

"Should I call ya?" He laughed at his own joke, but chuckled more when she caught on; it had taken almost the whole night, but he did finally get her to admit that she might have been a little dramatic about needing a break from people calling her. "How 'bout just same time next week?"

He was arguing with the bartender about the Browns' chances this season when the door flung open and she practically stomped toward him. In a huff she unloaded her purse onto the bar top and then removed her coat and placed it on top of the stool. She sat with a sigh and ordered a dirty martini, waiting until the drink was in front of her and she was able to take a long, satisfying sip before she set the glass back down and looked at him again. His brows were lifted so high from the anticipation that they were damn near the ceiling by the time she finally spoke.

"I just got back from visiting Mr. Schuester at McKinley." She stared at him, finally shaking her head when he made no move to add to the conversation. "There's no glee club!"

He chuckled as he finished his beer, licking his lips before saying, "That's not really news, babe. S'cut like three years ago."

"I ended up hearing about it from your sister; Mr. Schuester didn't even mention it!"

"S'cause it's not news," he repeated, still smiling. "Sylvester cut it for budget reasons after Jake's first year. Schue's too busy with his kid to care."

Puck watched her battle with herself, shaking her head and clearly working through something in her mind all while polishing off the last of her cocktail in record time. They'd been meeting up at the bar for the past couple of weeks now, but tonight was the first he'd beat her there. It was also the first time she hadn't looked bored out of her mind, and considering the topic of conversation, he was more than a little worried.

"Sectionals were pushed back until December after we graduated," she mused, scowling when he started to instantly shake his head. "What? It's not ideal, but it's not impossible."

"There's no fuckin' way, Berry." He chuckled around his gulp of his new beer, too amused by how crazy she looked to stop laughing. "Sue will never allow it." At those words, the fire in her eyes only got brighter and he knew there was no stopping her then. "And even if ya could, you have to get kids to join."

"We did it once, in a much less welcoming time." She turned in her seat as he got up, her eyes and voice following him. "We could do it again."

There was no point in arguing, because he knew she'd already decided. And even though he thought she was crazy, he kind of found her hopefulness inspiring. After everything she'd been through in the past few years, it was refreshing to hear the passion in her voice. It made him want to believe her, to believe in her - even if he did find Salt & Pepa's Push It on the jukebox and tell her she better start practicing for recruitment; he almost choked on his laughter when she threw her purse at him.

When Puck pulled into his mom's driveway after working at the tire shop all day, the last thing he expected to see was Rachel Berry. Yet, after he pulled into the garage and cut the engine, he saw her through the driver-side mirror standing at the edge of the walk with a steaming mug in her hand. He swung open the door and tumbled out, stretching his back before shutting the car door and then the garage door after him. With only five feet separating them, she lifted her free hand and waved.

"Any chance you drink coffee?" His already hiked eyebrows managed to raise even more, dipping down in the middle to show his confusion. "Your mother and sister said you would be home any minute, so when I informed them I'd wait outside, your mom offered me this even though I tried to explain that I don't particularly care for the beverage - you know, without all the specialized flavoring that's rude to ask for anywhere but a coffee shop."

He chuckled, his eyes diverting to the front window to see if his family was watching; there was no doubt in his mind that they would want more information despite knowing he and Rachel had been hanging out for almost a month now. "Ma likes it strong."

"So I discovered."

He smiled at her scrunched nose, stuffing the car keys into his pocket and taking the warm mug from her grip. Puck didn't usually drink coffee at night (he had enough trouble sleeping in his shitty bed as it was), but he also knew Rachel wouldn't feel comfortable going inside without having it at least appear as if she'd accepted his mother's gift. He took a tentative sip, mostly just to warn his tastebuds of the strong flavor, then a larger gulp followed by another. Looking at the now half-full mug, Rachel smiled gratefully and took it back into her hands.

"So, what's up?" He asked, leading her toward the front door and then inside the house. Both Sarah and his mom looked conveniently casual on the couch, and he couldn't help but shake his head. He loved both of them, but standing between them and Rachel had him wondering when he'd surrounded himself with so much crazy.

"Sue gave the go ahead for restarting the glee club."

He barked out a laugh on his way to the kitchen, bending down to look in the fridge even as he spoke to her. "Ya ever think about using your powers for good instead of evil?"

"This is good, Noah," she reasoned, taking the container of lunch meat he'd just gotten out of the fridge from his hands and putting it right back. She halted any argument by him as she pulled on the bottom of his work shirt and walked toward the microwave, opening it to reveal a glass dish of some pasta thing that he wanted to eat with his bare hands. She re-closed the door and started the appliance for the appropriate time before leaning her hip and hand against the counter and looking at him.

"She agreed to one year, paid completely by me, until I can prove the club is viable. I obviously don't have a lot of expendable income, so I need to speak with the community and start to etch out plans for fundraising performances and such."

"Sounds like a plan," he offered, mostly just watching the plate of food spin in circles as time seemed to drag on and on. "Sounds like it coulda waited a few days, too, but I 'ppreciate the grub."

"I cut up and cooked an innocent, dead chicken for you." She pulled the dish out a second before the microwave would have sounded, stirring and then moving the contents to a plate and then his waiting hands. She presented a fork toward him, but pulled it back at the last second with a pointed look. "Now you need to do something for me."

He rolled his eyes, but grabbed the fork and took a bite. Then, as the delicious flavors mingled inside his mouth and danced down his throat, he found himself nodding. "Anything. Fuck. This is good."

"Thank you." She shook her head lightly, her face turning serious once more. "I need you to talk to your brother. Mr. Schuester has agreed to place posters around the school in advertisement, but word of mouth is always stronger, not to mention endorsement from a popular senior." She snapped her fingers in front of his face, forcing his attention back on her as opposed to the pasta he was basically making out with at that point. "The meeting is two days from now, at 3. Any and all that are interested are expected to attend; we don't have time for stragglers."

She left without another word, outside of saying goodbye to his sister and mother. The latter was on his ass immediately, almost making him choke on his food when she asked a million questions that weren't even close to being based on fact. And, after telling her nearly 20 times that they were just friends and she'd finally given up, he was almost to his room when Sarah stopped him.

"What's up, squirt?"

She looked shy for about four seconds, then said, "I wanna help."

He wasn't sure what the hell she was talking about until a boombox manifested and her voice carried the tune bellowing out of it. Turned out, she was the shit.

He laughed at her when she retrieved yet another piece of sheet music from the garbage, his aim impeccable considering he'd made all three of the songs she'd given him and just made another after she'd handed him some dumb pop choice. He wasn't even sure why he was still there considering the meeting ended almost a half hour ago; he'd only come because he'd wanted to see Rachel's reaction when Sarah auditioned - a term used loosely considering everyone who'd shown up was accepted into the club. The look on her face had been priceless, though, and it hadn't shown even one ounce of jealousy, which he knew was because she'd humbled over the years and not just because his sister wasn't exactly Rachel Berry good.

"Noah, grow up!" She unwrinkled the piece of paper, placing it back on top of the folder she'd taken it out of. "If you're going to help, then you need to actually contribute."

"Well, sweet. 'Cause I ain't helpin'."

"Yes you are." She shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. That's why I'm not helpin'."

"Noah, there is so much to do. We need to start selecting songs, working on potential setlists. The kids are going to need our complete attention at first, as the learning curve for competitive singing is different for every individual. Then there's choreography, costumes … are you even listening?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure why since I'm not helping."

"Of course you are!"

He shook his head, figuratively putting his foot down. Legit, he wasn't even sure how he was still there. Like, in the choir room at McKinley High School with Rachel Berry. He'd joined glee to be closer to Quinn, which was weird now. As was seeing Finn's plaque, which Mr. Schuester had taken from his classroom and put back up where it had hung before in the choir room. Even being actual friends with Rachel was kind of weird, but that was where he drew the line. Friend, good. Co-director, bad.

"We both know I can convince you … one way or another."

Puck couldn't help but show his surprise, caught off guard less by her words and more by the way she'd said them. There was a lightness in her tone, even though the actual timbre of her voice had dropped an octave by the end of her statement. And it wasn't like flirting was necessarily uncommon between them, especially when she was single, but it was also kind of new and kind of fun and, well, kind of hot. Friend, good. Flirty friend, so good.

"I think I'd like to try one of the alternatives."

She locked eyes with him, smiling at his waggling brows before saying, "Maybe later. Help first."

The twinkle in her eye confused him. He couldn't tell if she was being playful or promising. But he quickly decided he didn't mind waiting to see. So they spent all night working on the first week's assignment, and afterward she handed him a piece of gum and thanked him for helping. Then she winked and left him to lock up, his eyes glued to the purposeful sway of her hips the whole time.

It wasn't the best way to waste a night, but it also wasn't the worst, either.

He heard the click of her heels before he even knew it was her, his vision impeded by the nearly two-ton vehicle he was currently underneath fixing. He listened to her greet a few of the other guys in the shop, and hurried up what he was doing when they started to give him shit for having a hot visitor. Her cheeks were bright red by the time he rolled from underneath the car, but he didn't tease her about it. After all, the guys weren't wrong.

"I booked our first public performance this afternoon, opening for the band that is headlining Lima's fall celebration in a couple of weeks. I've made sure to be very clear that we will be performing for free, as a promotional event, so as not to disqualify us in any way like our first year. However, I've already spoken to some students who are willing to help walk around the crowd seeking donations for the club's expenses."

He nodded along, mostly because it sounded like she had it all under control and he wasn't sure what she expected him to say. Luckily Rachel was the kind of woman who'd tell you what she wanted, so he never worried about that being a bad plan. "Cool."

"Yes, well, I wanted you to know so you could attempt to request the day off." Her eyes fell for just a moment, darting a little to her left and right as she spoke a little more quietly. "It's a Saturday, and … I remember Finn used to say those were always very busy."

He nodded absently, knowing she was right but also coming to understand what had her acting so strange. He still remembered what he'd felt like when he'd come back to work for Burt a few months ago; Finn was the one who'd brought him on when they were in high school, and it'd been weird to work there without him under the same car or sitting in the break room. It still was, sometimes, but the guys had helped him move past the uncomfortableness. Maybe he could do the same for Rachel.

"It was so busy one Saturday during our senior year that Burt asked Kurt to help out. He hated every second of it, being covered in grease n' all, and was annoyin' the shit outta me, so I had this awesome idea. I got Finn to get Kurt to back out one of the cars we'd just finished, and just as he passed the edge of the garage, I rolled one of the creepers under the car." Puck started laughing, hard. "Dude fuckin' screamed so loud and high! He'd thought he killed someone." Puck was still laughing, but had to catch his breath a little. "Finn legit peed himself a little."

She smiled, too, even though Kurt was her best friend. Still, her voice was distant. "I don't think I've ever heard that story."

"I bet we both have a lot of those," he remarked casually, shrugging one shoulder. "I don't get off for another hour." He cleared his throat, focusing on the towel in his hands that wasn't doing anything but spread the grease around. "Why don't you tell me some of 'em, keep me company?"

Her sad, shy expression broke into one of those brilliant 1,000-watt smiles that he rarely was the cause of, and he grinned when she started with her own story that involved humor at Kurt's expense. An hour later, he punched out and they moved the conversation out by their cars for another 30 minutes before there was finally a quiet lag. For the first time since they'd started reminiscing, her smile faded and her eyes fell to where she was kicking a rock with her shoe.

"Thank you, Noah." She looked up at him shyly. "I'd been nervous to come here; the only memories I have from here are of him." She straightened her gaze, defying her own previous weakness. "I didn't want that to be the reason not to come, though." Then she smiled, still a little bashful but mostly just her normal exuberance showing. "Now I have new memories, with you."

He reciprocated her smile with one of his own, though he knew better than to say anything. After all, what would he say to something like that?

"I'll see you later, at Ray's?"

He bobbed his head. "Just gotta shower first."

She nodded in understanding, then rocked forward and placed a quick but somehow lingering kiss on his cheek. Her smile was shy, as was the meek wave she'd managed before climbing into her car and driving off. It took him about five minutes to do the same.

He'd almost made it to his truck when one of the new glee kids (technically they were all new, but whatever) stopped him. He was already running late if he was going to make it to the shop on time, but the girl looked straight-up depressed and the fact that she was kind of cute didn't even factor in when he finally agreed to listen. In fact, he led them to an area where other people could see them without necessarily being able to hear them, just so there would be some kind of record that he wasn't doing anything wrong. And if those two things didn't show major character growth, then the fact that the girl left 10 minutes later thanking him for his advice surely did.

He always used to think being Mr. Schue would suck, but he did kind of get a thrill out of helping the glee kids. He knew how much high school sucked, and the kids liked how brutally honest he was about that fact, as well other things. Most of all, for him, was he liked the quiet moments when it wasn't the whole group, when he could help just one of them understand how much more life there was after high school - which sounded really stupid considering he was only about to turn 22 and this was what was reminding him that he had a lot left to live for still, too.

They both finished their respective shots at the same time, though he slumped back down against the bar once he'd finished whereas she jumped up and started pacing. You wouldn't know it based on her energy level, but they were currently drinking away their sorrows after the glee club bombed its first public appearance. Technically the kids had done fine, outside of a giant case of stage fright for a few of them, but they'd barely earned any money, and it wasn't exactly the confidence booster they all hoped it would be. Yet, while he felt completely beaten down, Rachel only seemed to get more and more optimistic as time passed.

"It's officially a new day, Noah," she said, pointing to the clock as it inched past the midnight hour. "Our wallowing must commence, and we need to discuss what we are going to say to the kids come Monday."

"How 'bout something like, 'Well, this was fun ...'"

"Noah!" She gasped out his name in shock, coming to stand at his side and placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is just a setback. A minor setback." She released him, back to pacing - almost bouncing now she was so amped up. "Think of how many we had during our tenure in glee - and that didn't stop us; we became national champions!"

Puck scoffed. "This group doesn't 'xactly have a Rachel Berry carrying them."

"There's no 'i' in 'glee'." She stomped her foot at his repeated disagreement. "Perhaps at the beginning I was the driving force behind the club's success, but we became a team, Noah. Sometimes even to my chagrin, but it happened. And this group just needs to believe, in themselves and in each other." She moved back to her stool, leaning over it to try to insert herself into his line of vision. "Think of how much we changed in just those three years, how much change we caused. Mr. Schuester took a chance on us, on his dreams, and never looked back."

"Until you graduated."

"He divorced and remarried, to a woman who overcame her debilitating disease for love," she continued, undeterred by his interruption. "Kurt not only came out as homosexual, but was accepted as such and even caused an anti-bullying initiative - that was started by a football player and a cheerleader! Courtesy of our group, the social caste system that plagues nearly every modern high school was completely abolished, jocks becoming choir nerds and vice versa." She pushed at him then, forced his chair to swivel enough that she was standing between his legs and looking right into his eyes. "I mean, you were friends with Kurt!"

"No, I wasn't."

She rolled her eyes. "You helped him organize a flash mob to Barbra Streisand at the local mall."

"That don't count," he chuckled, her face too funny not to laugh at. "That was for you, not him." He watched her smile fade instantly, and he held his breath waiting for her response to his confession. But, like the good actress she was, she recovered quickly - with a stage smile and another point she hoped to add to her column.

"You worked independently more than once to save the glee club, Am-badass-ador."

His pride be damned, he couldn't help the look her gave her at that. He'd admit that over time the glee club became something he cared about; his true friends were there and it was the first and only place that had given him hope - for his future, but for other things, too. But if she honestly thought he had any motive for saving the glee club outside of knowing it mattered to her, then she was not only crazy but also really, really dumb. And the fact that he could almost see the rest of her examples - the Glist, intimidating Vocal Adrenaline/Jesse, etc. - start to die off in her eyes while her mouth just sort of hung open led to the impression that she was starting to realize it, too.

"You gave a woman another chance to be a mother by giving up your rights as a father." His back straightened immediately, bringing his eyeline slightly above hers but not far enough away that the softness and intensity in hers could be ignored. "You left LA to be closer to Jake, to give him the support you never had when you were younger."

Both their eyes fell then, and it was good because the next thing she said damn near killed him. "You joined the Air Force to honor your dead best friend."

After at least a full minute with his head down and eyes closed, just fighting the emotions building inside of him, he looked up. She was looking right back at him, with tears in her eyes that he knew were mirrored in his own. Yet, despite the sadness that was no doubt clouding both their minds, the warmth of her hand on his jean-covered thigh made the pain a little more bearable. As did the softness he saw in her melted chocolate gaze … right before she kissed him.

Throwing his truck into park and sprinting toward the front doors of McKinley, Puck wondered when his life started to be so much like high school, take two. Legit, it was a stupid comparison considering he was the man in high school, but Puck couldn't help the nerves coursing through him when he walked into the school that afternoon. He hadn't seen or even heard from Rachel since that night at the bar, approximately 40 hours ago, and the anticipation was kind of killing him. It was the do or die moment, when he learned what that kiss was - which he hadn't immediately after because he'd still been in shock when it'd ended and then she'd challenged him to a game of darts before they both left.

And even though it did feel like sophomore/junior year all over again, it was also different. Like, she wasn't obsessed with Finn this time and he wasn't just humoring her or hoping just to bang her (that one only worked with 'just' as a qualifier because he definitely did want to have sex with her; he had wanted to since he was 11 and figured out what it was, and it was something that never went away when it came to her). Now it wasn't just about her body (always hot) or knowing she was insanely flexible or whatever. It was a lot more than that, which meant it was a lot less his territory, as evident by his crash-and-burn relationship with Quinn.

So, because he'd already swung and struck out by trying to be a new man, Puck reverted to his old-school self the second he walked into the choir room. Rachel smiled at him like normal, and started the big motivational speech she'd alluded to that night. And even though he thought he was doing a pretty good job at staying in his patent position between ambivalent and apathetic, he felt his entire body tense when she suggested they sing a duet in an effort to motivate the young group. In fact, it wasn't until Jake slapped him on the back did he actually make a move to join Rachel at the front of the room, and the shy smile she greeted him with before having the band start Lady Antebellum's Need You Now nearly froze him. But, just like in high school, he followed her lead and they managed to complete the entire performance even more flawlessly than the first time. The only difference was after they'd finished and the kids were talking amongst themselves while Rachel went to copy some sheet music, he sacked up and asked her out on a real date. And she accepted.

He was still the man.

Breadstix was a lame choice, but it was midweek in November and Lima had limited indoor choices for adults. Unfortunately, the same excuse was used by almost all their friends, too, who were home visiting for Thanksgiving break. It wasn't liked he minded catching up with Artie or whatever, but everyone sort of ambushed the evening, and Rachel was either too nice or too embarrassed to tell them they were on a date. And since the latter might physically hurt him, he didn't say anything either. But then she was mentioning an early morning meeting as way of declining an invitation to meet up for a pseudo-reunion, and he started to feel that weird ache that he figured was probably inevitable.

"I'll take ya back home whenever," he mentioned, looking up to find their waiter. "I didn't know you had plans tomorrow, or I wouldn'ta picked …"

"I don't have plans." Her confession was firm, but he took even more comfort in her guilty expression than the obvious lie she'd told their friends. "I like you, Noah." She sounded surprised, but frankly so was he. "More than I did when we were younger, but in a lot of the same ways that it is quite scary."

Puck nodded, because he actually understood what she meant. They'd gone around in circles a few times, in a lot of different ways, and he clearly still wasn't sure if they were just chasing their tails again or not.

"I'm glad we're as close as we are now, and I've always taken some pride in thinking that I know you so well, maybe better than others." She ducked her head shyly, barely whispering now. "It's still hard to read you sometimes, though. Especially when it comes to women."

He felt like an asshole, even if he knew she wasn't judging him. It was like she'd said: they knew each other better than most. Certainly better than others would think. Maybe it was a Jew thing, but they'd always had a connection between them, one where they seemed to get each other even if they didn't particularly like one another. The second part went away, which was probably how they'd ended up here in the first place. Rachel was one of the only people who'd never really placed him in any particular box, and it was one of the main reasons he'd never felt trapped by her.

"Are you, perhaps, worried the discovery that you made in regards to you and Quinn would apply to us as well?" He shook his head, though the thought was racing through his mind now; he'd thought about being with Rachel on and off for the past five years, which was a lot of expectation/hype without much foundation. "Then what?"

He heard the desperation in her voice, and finally realized she'd been basically baring her soul to him with little-to-no response. He blew out a heavy breath, took a sip of his soda just to busy himself for a moment, then looked at her. He wasn't sure how she made it so her eyes seemed so big, but it always made it seem like he could be himself with her because she was seeing him more clearly than others.

"Sometimes s'hard to remember I'm allowed to like ya." While her confession had been winded, Puck never was one to beat around the bush. And even though his instincts were to hold back, to pass her the ball and see what she did with it, he barrelled through his own discomfort for her sake. "You were Finn's girl for so long … and part of me is glad you're not, but the other part kinda wishes you were because then he'd still be here."

The air between them was thick, and the silence dragged on for what felt like eternity. In reality it wasn't too long, but long enough for the waiter to come check on them and definitely long enough for Puck to assume this would rank as one of the worst dates in history.

"I still miss him," she finally whispered, her eyes focused on a stream of condensation that had built up on her water glass during the night. "And I will always love him, but now it's more because of how he'd loved me, the way he'd taught me to love back - others and myself, too."

She lifted her head then, startling him with how strong her gaze was. "But it's been more than two years since he passed, and … and we weren't even together for the year before then." She licked her lips, blowing out a steadying breath. "And, more and more, I wonder if we wouldn't have just ended up much like you and Quinn - as something that was good when it was, but then wasn't anymore."

Puck listened to her words, but his mind was a million miles away. He couldn't stop thinking about all the what ifs, some of them the same ones he'd been playing for the past two years. Finn was his best friend and he'd been witness to the Finchel show every time it aired, but he'd learned from personal experience that people change. None of them were the same kids they were at the beginning of high school - and people like him and Berry had changed more in the last year than anyone - so it was hard to outright refute her claim that maybe things wouldn't have ended up like everyone had expected. Certainly no one could have expected this.

"But," she cleared her throat, her eyes dropping again as she sat up a little straighter, literally putting distance between them across the table. "I can understand your hardship, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize our friendship, so let's just …"

"Hey," he interrupted, leaning forward and against the table to stop himself from shaking. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous considering everything she'd just said, but it still felt like a big deal. Like the moment he'd look back on and realize he was finally moving on, from everything that had been holding him back. "You wanna go get some coffee?"