A/N: I don't own Glee. If I did, I'd be a very rich woman.

From a prompt at the P/R drabble meme:

"You are really good with that thing! Took me weeks to get the hang of it."

"Yeah, well, we all have our special talents."

Why Mr. Schuester forces them to hold another bake sale, Puck'll never know. Sure, they made a lot of money from the last one, but that was thanks to his Nana Connie's "special" recipe, which Mr. Schue found out about and promised he wouldn't tell Figgins if Puck actually helped out by making some non-hallucinogenic baked good this year.

So yeah, he's kinda forced to make some cookies or brownies or a cake or some shit. And his mom works all the time so she's not much of a baker, meaning they don't have any sort of baking supplies in his house. He's not even sure they have a whisk.

Half of the glee kids are still pissed at him for being sent to juvie and potentially ruining their chances at regionals, plus he's been kind of a dick lately because his mom wants him to get a new job (he definitely got fired from Sheets N' Things) so yeah, he's not been in a super good mood.

The one person—besides Brittany, who barely knows how to be mad at people—who hasn't been treating him any differently is Berry, who believes in shit like forgiveness and second chances.

So when he approaches her after glee one day and asks if she'd like to help him make something for the bake sale, drug free, he promises, she says yes, and invites him to her house the following evening.

They're in her kitchen and she's got him wearing some fugly apron with little duckies and bubbles on it. He puts the final ingredient into the bowl and looks around the kitchen.

"You got a whisk or a fork or something to mix this?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

Rachel shakes her head, opening a large cabinet and pulling out a hand-held electric mixer. She holds it out to him with a smile, "Here, use this. It's much faster and easier."

Puck stares down at it. "The fuck is that, Berry?" It looks, to him, like some sort of mind-sucking machine that aliens dropped down from the sky. So yeah, it kind of makes sense that it's in crazy Rachel's house.

She laughs softly, stepping next to him and plugging in the mixer. "Put that end in the bowl, and hold the other end firmly." She points and he does as he's told, giving her a small nod when he's ready. She presses the button to turn on the mixer, and he immediately begins to move it in wide circles throughout the bowl.

Rachel grins as she watches him mixing all of the ingredients with ease. "You are really good with that thing! Took me weeks to get the hang of it."

Puck rolls his eyes quickly, giving the mixer all of his focus and concentration. "Yeah, well, we all have our special talents." After a few minutes, he flicks off the machine and pulls the mixer from the bowl. Rachel takes it from his hand and lays it gently in the sink.

"Looks perfect. Pour it into the pan, and it's ready to go into the oven!"

With the pan of brownies set to bake, they settle on the stools around the island.

"Y'know, this baking stuff isn't so bad. I mean, I'd rather be grilling or frying up latkes or something, but this is cool too."

Rachel nods, her chin resting on her hand with her elbow propped up on the marble. "You seem to have a natural talent for it, too. Perhaps you should consider culinary school…"

His eyebrow ticks up, his eyes glued to her for a long moment before he shrugs. "Maybe you're right." Rachel smiles softly, glancing out the window toward the sunset.

Puck nudges her foot with his. "Hey, Berry." She turns back to him, her eyebrows raised in question. "Thanks. For y'know, helping me."

Rachel grins, shrugging. "Sure Noah, it was no problem. Anything for glee club."

He shakes his head. "No, not for that." She cocks her head to the side, clearly confused. "Just thanks okay?"