Rachel Berry did not get into situations like this. Huddling into herself and tugging at the hem of her nightgown, Rachel pondered the injustice of this particular state of affairs.

'I never thought I'd see the day when Rachel Berry would be the leading lady in my Law & Order fantasy.'

Shifting her glare to Puck, who was seated insolently next to her and smelled particularly strongly of alcohol, Rachel tried to force him to combust into a million, tiny pieces through sheer force of will (she had been constantly told about her unusually persistent tenacity. Why not untilize such a gift for the good of mankind?).

She failed.

'I am not a delinquent,' she saw fit to state rather firmly. The rather scantily clad woman on the opposite side of the wall snapped her gum loudly, and Rachel noted with disgust, was eyeing Puck as if he were a piece of meat.

'Insane, overbearing, maybe shrewish,' Puck commented lightly. 'You're right. Unless those prudish clothes you wear is like a supreme way to mindfuck everyone into some kind of twisted alternate universe, where people prance around and break out into song for no reason-'

'Obviously God has saw fit to punish me for some indiscretion that I am yet unware of,' Rachel interjected. Puck chuckled somewhat darkly before replying.

'Berry, you've been trying to get Finn to break up with his pregnant girlfriend so the two of you can make mad, passionate vocal sex. If anyone is going to hell, it's you.'

'You're inebriated, aren't you?'

'Yeah Crazy, I got picked up for disturbing the peace because of a loud impromptu musical number-'

'It is not my fault that my fathers have yet to soundproof the house! That lawsuit has not even been filed yet!' Rachel defended herself, crossing her arms when she remembered the straight-faced policeman saying he had to bring her in for singing too damn loud.

'Whatever. What? Do you take rejection as some kind of bone?'

Rachel shifted to the side, turning her head so he couldn't see the effect his words were having on her. Puck let out a ragged sigh and the small brush against her arm made her turn towards him in surprise. His green eyes were dark in the dim light of the holding cell, as if the shadows had decided to hide him in their embrace.

'Look I'm sorry, alright?'

'Don't apologize for saying words you feel are true,' Rachel replied stiffly. 'Honesty, no matter how harsh, is better than lying.'

'Listen up Berry, Noah Puckerman owning up to something is like a fucking biblical plague. They come around once a lifetime. So yeah. Appreciate it.'

'Your apology was in no way sincere.'

'Right now there are two of you talking to me in 5.1 stereo. And since its public knowledge how you can reach notes only dogs and Mariah Carey can hear, that isn't a compliment,' Puck remarked, shaking his head.

'Why are you drunk?' Rachel inquired, curious. Those same dark eyes bored right into her.

'You really want to know?' His question was sardonic. Rachel frowned, edging closer to him when she saw the underdressed woman lean forward in her seat.

'Of course. I feel that being in Glee together has established some kind of bond between us.'

'Being in show choir doesn't make us best friends,' Puck said blandly. Rachel felt her cheeks heat up.

'No, of course not. Heaven forbid that Noah Puckerman do something that goes against popular opinion,' she shot back through clenched teeth, forcing the words out as if they were poison. Puck actually appeared stunned for a moment.

'You know, you're kinda hot.'

Rachel gaped.

'If you were drunk on wine coolers, and like didn't yap so much, I'd totally have knocked you up instead of Quinn.'

This time Rachel was sure her jaw had hit the floor.

'Wha-what?' She stuttered hoarsely. 'Finn is the father Puck. Are you hallucinating?' Rachel instinctively reached forward and feathered her fingers across his face, studying the size of his pupils, checking to see if his skin was hot.

'No,' Puck was derisive, laying a warm, warm hand against one of hers and pressing it closer to his face. 'I mean, yeah, I wish the walls would stop hopping around like some kind of kinky orgy but other than that, I'm good.'

'Puck, we're in a prison cell being treated like Jack Bauer apprehended us. And you just told me Quinn was pregnant with your child,' Rachel tried not to listen to the hysteria bleeding into her tone.

'Man, Sylvester would totally eat Bauer for breakfast. I heard she got waterboarded and then made her interrogators cry,' Puck stated matter-of-factly. All Rachel was aware of was that he hadn't let go of her hand.

'Quinn Noah?' She prodded gently, her heart thudding wildly in her chest.

'Yeah. I told her I'd take care of the baby, you know? Said I'd provide the money and shit. Because I'm not my father. I'm not,' Puck insisted, squeezing her hand. Rachel nodded her head.

What happened with his father?

'You're nothing like him,' Rachel assured him. Puck relaxed his grip slightly.

'I won't walk out on my family like some two-bit loser. I'd man up and take care of the both of them. I told Quinn that.' Puck trailed off.

'What did she say?' Rachel asked, though she could somehow piece together all the threads.

'She called me a Lima Loser. Said she didn't need someone like me when she could have Saint Finn,' Puck spat out. 'I thought I loved her you know?'

Rachel felt her heart squeeze ever so slightly.

Another boy willing to worship at the altar of Quinn Fabray.

'Yeah she's totally working the whole Cheerio, blonde thing. I mean, who hasn't dreamed of that Playboy centerfold?' Puck looked at her as if he was expecting her to agree with him.

She didn't particularly want to.

'But it was like she wasn't so perfect, wasn't this nice little Christian girl that she wants everyone to think she is. Like, she drives really fast. Like she needs to stay above eighty so that the bomb won't blow up. Or that she digs putting peanut butter on everything. And I mean everything. And Quinn can be a complete bitch to get whatever the hell she wants. It's like she's got her junk down there all hidden away like some kind of really hot transvestite.' Puck paused. 'Woah, mental image.'

'She's your best friend's girlfriend Puck,' Rachel whispered and Puck jerked away from her touch.

'You think I don't know that? Huh? Huh?' His voice climbed, echoing around the cell. 'I've known Finn since we were in fucking preschool! How the hell do you think it makes me feel that I stuck my dick into his girlfriend's-'

Rachel winced at his crudity. 'I get the picture!'

'It's just…' Puck seemed to crumple within himself, the heavily made-up woman staring at him with wide eyes. 'I want to know my kid. I want her to know that I didn't just abandon her like she was something I didn't want.'

The raw hurt in his voice made Rachel soften. Tentatively, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up at her and then looked down at the concrete floor.

'I think it's admirable what you intend to do. Not many teenage boys would want to take on the responsibility such a venture would entail.'

'What? Are you even speaking English?' Puck asked her, looking (adorably. What. No. Puck did not look anything but constipated, Rachel reminded herself) bewildered.

'She said you got a set on ya, handsome,' the woman finally spoke up. 'Ain' many guys wan' ta give shit up for anythin', leas' of all some kid.'

Rachel blinked. 'Thank you…'

'Name's Candy.' A bubble popped.

'Thank you Candy.'

The woman's blonde cornrows thudded lightly against the wall in response, the bubble she had been blowing popping. Rachel blinked again and turned back to Puck, who was staring down at his hands as if they were some kind of lifeline.

'You're not a loser Puck,' Rachel spoke in a very determined way. 'You shouldn't let people tell you otherwise.'

Puck snorted.

'But I believe that you should tell Finn as soon as possible.'

'Quinn doesn't-'

'You are the father Puck. You have as much of a say as Quinn does. If you want to "man up",' Rachel hooked her fingers in the air, 'then perhaps it is time being more proactive towards the situation.'

Puck gave her a scrutinizing look. 'I thought you'd flip out and diva out on me.'

'I possess many talents. One of them is mediating an otherwise-'

'Do you read the dictionary?' Puck asked her seriously.

'Of course not.'

'Are you sure?'

'I think I would know if I read the dictionary Puck-'

'Noah,' Puck interrupted her. 'You can call me Noah. I like it.'

Rachel was beginning to like Puck when he was under the influence. 'Alright Noah.'

'You're really pretty,' Puck murmured, looping a piece of hair over her ear.

'So are you,' the words were out before she could stop them. Puck fluttered his lids as Rachel felt her cheeks flush.

'Pretty? I am a fucking stud. Like grade A, primo rugged fucking goodness. I'm like the fucking long-lost cousin of Dean Winchester who can fucking sing.'

'Church honey,' Candy agreed.

Puck was nodding his head vigourously. 'Have you seen my guns?' He was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Rachel swallowed, seeing the well-formed biceps flexing.

'Your arms are-' she meant to say lovely, 'delicious?'

'I melt in your mouth, not in your hand,' Puck leered at her lasciviously. Rachel wrinkled her nose but felt her stomach twist pleasantly in response.

Stop it Rachel.

'Just like candy,' the older woman said with a wink.

'Holy shit Berry, why are you on the ceiling?' Puck demanded, pointing upwards.

'Rachel Berry? Your father is here to take you home,' the policeman's voice boomed throughout the holding cell.

'Daddy!' Rachel exclaimed, seeing him push his glasses up his nose.

'Sweetie, I thought we discussed your need to practice the entire score of West Side Story. I'm all for you believing that they'll need an understudy for Maria in the future but-'

'We have to take him with us too,' Rachel insisted, pointing back at Puck who was still gazing at the ceiling perplexed.

'Is that Abigail's son?' Daddy asked.

'Yes. What kind of Jews would we be if we just left him here? What would Adonai do?' Rachel made sure to push her lower lip out, the one that she knew Daddy was particularly powerless against.

'I'll take him as well,' Daddy told the policeman, who shrugged his shoulders. He was just going to let the kid sober up anyway. Spared him the hassle of dealing with a hungover teen.

Rachel never knew whether Puck remembered their conversation from that night. He treated her as he always did. But then a few days later, when rumours started to surface naming Puck as the father, and Finn had told his best friend he was dead to him, Rachel had waited quietly by the side.

Puck had fixed his green eyes on her, so dark like they had been the night in the cell, and nodded his head. He had reached down and pressed her hand to his cheek.

'Thanks,' was all he said.

Rachel nodded.

She didn't know what that meant, but she decided that Puck needed a friend. And Rachel Berry, much like the Good Samaritan, never turned down someone in need.

a/n: the characters might be a little OOC, but I'm sure we'll all live. This is for Marylouue. Hope I did you justice.

Please tell me if it was…bad.