Author's Note: My newest Puckleberry, yay! I am so obsessed with this pair, I must say, these things just come flying out of me! If you like it, be sure to check out my other stuff!—Rachel
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Noah Puckerman walked through the local Drug Mart tossing various items into his basket: shaving cream, deodorant, the econo-size box of condoms- hey, he wasn't optimistic, he was realistic. And he didn't take chances with that shit anymore, not since knocking up Quinn Fabray in high school, and, coincidentally, he hadn't had anymore close calls since. That shit had to mean something.
He rounded the corner, tossing in some Advil. He was really starting to feel his age, if one could consider twenty-six old. Most people wouldn't, he knew, but he worked construction and that shit was hard on a man's body. Of course, so was that hot little blonde he'd picked up two nights ago at the bar.
He was pretty sure he was still hung over from that night.
That had to be it, because there was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. There was no fucking way he had just seen Rachel Berry, in jeans and a t-shirt, no less, walk past his aisle mere seconds ago.
He rubbed his eyes with his hand. No way. Couldn't have been. He was probably just overtired. Because there was no fucking way in hell that Rachel Berry would be back in Lima, not after escaping the shithole for New York City years ago.
He ignored the nagging voice that told him her fathers were still in town, still lived in the same house, and that it wasn't completely off base to think she may be visiting them.
He shook his head firmly, because, crazy as she was, even Rachel Berry wasn't crazy enough to come back to Lima after finally getting out and making something of her life.
And he knew she had. She had left for New York shortly after graduation, from what he'd heard. She hadn't said goodbye to him, and honestly, he hadn't though much about her in the years since graduation. Of course, he hadn't really thought about anyone from McKinley, but still.
He had heard things over the years, of course. Her dads still went to Temple with his mom, so he heard how she'd made a name for herself, slowly but surely, and his mom had been so proud when Rachel finally landed her first real role on Broadway that people had actually thought Rachel was her kid.
But he hadn't spoken with her since graduation, hadn't really spoken to anyone other than Quinn and Finn, with the occasional phone call from Matt and Mike.
It was inevitable that everyone would drift after high school and Puck didn't think any of them were really surprised by it.
Quinn and Finn had stayed close, of course, and the two were currently sharing an apartment in Columbus while Quinn finished up her master's degree in photography.
He didn't really see the need to have such an extensive degree in something so artsy but she hadn't really appreciated him questioning it and he'd been cutoff from dinner invitations for weeks.
He didn't mention it again after that.
Finn was working at an elementary school in Columbus, coaching various sports teams. He coached a youth football league in his spare time and Puck had helped him out last season before business started to pick up again.
Matt and Mike had stayed close and had actually started a program in Chicago for inner city kids, giving them the opportunity to dance and explore their abilities. He thought it was admirable, even though he gave them tons of crap about developing a second X chromosome. And yes, he knew about shit like that, he skipped math in high school, not biology.
Aside from his four friends, he hadn't talked to anyone since high school. They'd all scattered and he wasn't surprised. Rachel was destined for stardom, and everyone knew it. Artie never seemed like a lifer and Tina was actually pretty damn smart. Kurt always seemed more like the big city type and he figured Mercedes had probably tagged along for that ride.
Britt and Santana had gone to Miami, he knew, but if it was for college or for something else, he had no clue. He hadn't really talked to San much senior year. Their hookups had ended long before and neither was the type to try to make something into something it wasn't.
Everyone had gotten out except him. And that was how he knew there was no way in hell he had seen Rachel Berry in Drug Mart.
But still, a part of him thought maybe he had. He'd always had this weird Rachel radar, his body aware and alert every time he was around her. He'd always chalked it up to the fact that they were both two good looking Jews.
His body hummed in awareness now, the first time in years, and he knew, no matter how unlikely it was, that he had to find out. He stalked to the end of the aisle and looked to the left, then the right. Nothing.
He walked the end of the aisles, not seeing her. Coming to the last few aisles, he stopped when he reached the candy aisle.
There she was.
She was different than he remembered her. She was still hot, of course. Her hair was short, hitting just below her shoulders and her face was makeup free. But she was thinner than he was used to seeing her, not that she'd been fat in high school. But there was no denying she'd slimmed down in the years since then, and Puck could see the curves he'd sometimes itched to touch back then were almost nonexistent now.
It was weird seeing her in jeans. The only time he ever had was when they were performing and everyone else was wearing them too. And those times he was usually admiring the way Santana was rocking her jeans and hadn't really given Rachel much thought.
He was so caught up in staring at the denim-clad legs that he didn't realize she had seen him.
"My eyes are up here," she said in an amused tone.
Startled, he jumped a little and she laughed. "The eyes are good too," he said with a wink.
She laughed again and came closer. "Noah. It's good to see you."
"You too, Rach. Don't take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you doing in Ohio?"
She smiled but he noticed it wasn't quite as genuine this time. "It's a long story," she said.
"Missed me, huh?"
She rolled her eyes and he tried not to notice the dark circles that were not well concealed at all. "Why yes, however did you know?"
"Sarcasm? Rachel Berry learned sarcasm? New York has been good to you," he said appreciatively, running his eyes over her form again.
She smacked him in the arm and the package in her hand crinkled. He glanced down at it. "Gummy worms? Doesn't seem like your type of food, Rach," he teased.
She tensed briefly before relaxing. He noticed anyway. "They're not horrible," she told him.
"I figured you more for a granola type of girl," he said, eyes twinkling.
"Granola is a perfectly fine food, Noah," she told him indignantly. He flashed back to high school and her many rants and lectures. "But I'm not a huge granola person."
He placed his hand over his heart and staggered back a step. "Not granola? You must be joking."
She rolled her eyes. "It reminds me of bird food."
He burst out laughing and she looked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to get his laughter under control. "I just always thought of you as the bird food type of person."
She shook her head at him but he could see the amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. "You've grown up so much, I see." She peered into his basket. "And the large box of condoms, wow, feeling optimistic, are we?"
He narrowed his eyes at her teasing tone. "Realistic," he told her.
She nodded. "Of course."
"Seriously. I'm a good lookin' guy, Berry, I need the large box."
"Absolutely."
"I do! Just last week, I-"
"I have no doubt," she said in a placating tone.
He glared at her. "Rach?"
"Yes, Noah?"
"Shut the fuck up."
She laughed this time, a full laugh, her head thrown back, eyes sparkling. He watched her as she laughed and he was struck with the thought that she hadn't done much of this lately. He brushed it off. She was Rachel fucking Berry, she was on Broadway in New York. She had the charmed life, of course she laughed long and often.
After she calmed down and had wiped at her eyes (seriously, it wasn't that funny), she looked at him regretfully. "Listen, it was nice to see you, really, but I have to get home."
"Home? You're living here now?" What the fuck, Berry?
She shrugged one shoulder and he tried not to notice the sadness that radiated off her all of a sudden. "For now. It's complicated," she added, seeing the question on his lips.
"Apparently."
She smiled again, a little smaller, a little less bright. "It was really good to see you, Noah. Take care."
He watched her walk away and something he couldn't quite name wasn't happy about it. Something wasn't ready to let her walk away just yet.
"Rach," he called out, jogging up an aisle to catch up with her. She turned around, startled. "Wanna grab dinner later?"
She tilted her head to the side and he saw regret flash across her face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I really have to get home," she said.
He let the disappointment show on his face. "Oh, ok then."
She contemplated him for another moment. "Would you like to come over for dinner?" she asked after a brief hesitation.
He grinned. "Sure. Where you staying?"
"With my dads," she said. "417 S-"
"I know where you live, Rach," he cut her off. He sent her a wink. "Bedroom still yellow?"
"Mind still filthy?" she shot back.
He laughed and shifted his basket in his hands. "Always."
She rolled her eyes. "I figured. Is six o'clock ok?"
"Great. Need me to bring anything?"
"No, I think I have it covered. We'll see you then."
It didn't occur to him that she'd said 'we' until he was halfway home.