"Why is it so dark in here?" Rachel complained to what she thought was an empty choir room. She reached for the light switch, but before she flipped it, she heard a sharp click, and a flame lit up around where the piano should be. A candle perched atop the piano was lit, and the owner of the lighter spoke. "Berry? That is you, isn't it?" Noah?! What is he doing in here with the lights off?

"Yes, Noah, it's me. I don't know if I should ask, but why on Earth do you have a candle in here? Why are the lights off?" This could not get any weirder.

"We're having lunch." On second thought, maybe it could get weirder.

"Firstly, Noah, I've already had lunch. I ate in the cafeteria two hours ago. Secondly, we have Glee rehearsal in an hour. I'm sure whatever you've prepared is not healthy for my vocal apparatus, or yours, for that matter. Thirdly, what makes you think the rule "No food in the choir room" doesn't apply to you? And fourthly…" She never got to "fourthly." She usually didn't. Normally by her third or fourth reason, he would cut her off with his own mouth, whether it be interrupting verbally or physically.

This time it was physically. His lips were warm against hers, and his tongue traced her lips, begging for entry. Rachel, stubborn as ever, denied him, but her hands wound their way around his neck and pulled him closer. Her heart's running away with her head, Puck thought. Just the way I like her.

Her lips finally parted and allowed him to deepen the kiss. He pulled her closer and closer, and every time she thought there was no more gap to close, he would pull her in closer again. His tongue did wicked things to her mouth and made her knees go weak, causing her weight to fall completely onto him. Her back arched into him and he just barely dipped her backward, leaning over her slightly. As his lips left her mouth to kiss down her neck, he heard her whimper softly, as if she thought he was done. Instead, he pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, and her hands clenched in his shirt when his teeth clamped down on the tender spot where her collarbone met her neck. She shivered a little as he swept up to her ear and blew gently in it before allowing his tongue to explore it and his teeth to nibble on her earlobe.

Before returning to her lips, he gazed into her eyes. They were hooded with desire as she whispered huskily, "Noah, was this what you had in mind for 'lunch'? A meal of kisses?" He was quickly reminded of the meal he'd prepared still untouched. He reluctantly kissed her on the forehead and let her stand on her own two feet again. "Not quite." He moved the candle to a little table next to the piano where he'd set the meal he'd made (all by himself, he was proud to say). He held his hand out to her and led her over to her chair, which he pulled out for her. How very Noah of you, he could hear Santana say in his head. He discarded the thought almost instantly and returned to his woman at hand.

The next half hour was spent eating his delicious (kosher) meal and talking. Every time he tried to talk about their relationship, she (for some unknown, aggravating reason) continually steered the conversation in another direction by going off on a random rant. And frankly, he was getting tired of it. "Rach, we have to eventually talk this through. What are we?" As studly and badass as he was, he was not having another random fling. That would probably only lead to another baby, especially if Rachel kept biting her lip like that. Made him want to do it himself, and then go from there…

"I don't know what we are, Noah. Maybe… maybe it's time we were mature and called this… whatever this is, off." His heart thudded against his chest. No. She couldn't leave him. Not now. "Rachel…" he began, but he didn't have the words to speak. I can't tell her I love her when I still haven't told her I'm the baby daddy… fuck, why does this have to be so hard?! "Noah… I know. About Quinn, I mean. You got her pregnant. Didn't you?" Is she a fucking mind-reader or something? Her tone was flat. Not accusatory, not angry, not sad, not hysterical. Just… flat. And that was the scariest thing of all. Shit, how did she… Mercedes… Fuck, why did I have to go and blab to that little bitch… She spoke again, her voice still completely void of emotion. "I figured it out on my own, Noah. But Mercedes confirmed it for me, through no fault of her own." Her control on her emotions broke, and the void of emotion in her voice was filled with hurt, disappointment, and sorrow. "Noah… why didn't you tell me?" she asked simply. And he didn't have an answer. He could have put up a front and said None of your business, Berry and stalked off. He could have lied and said I didn't want to and quietly left in her shocked silence. He could have said honestly I don't know, Rachel and sat in stony silence as he tried not to interrupt her rant that he was sure would be coming if he stuck around. But instead, he picked her up into his arms and brought her onto his lap and whispered, "Because I didn't want you to leave." He nuzzled her neck and took a deep breath.

"I love you, Rachel Berry."

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a terrible person. No Showdown chapters still from either me or AwesomeKid, and still nothing on TCOANA, but I just HAD to get this done. I told you it would be major Puckleberry!!!! :D Many thanks to notsolittlej, XJ-52, alien09, RainbowBrite64, ophelia22, and TJ6 for your awesome Puckleberry stories that inspired me to write this and also helped me through the week-long droughts of not being able to talk to my boyfriend. I have two words for you: idiot stepdad. Oneshot #5 (titled "Seeking Solace" for those not following the list on our profile) is also in progress, it's Santana's-side sequel to Love, while this is sort of the Puck's-side sequel. Read and review! It encourages us! :D