Author's Note: So…Blackbirdox and I were freaking out over how much we love Finn and Puck, and so…we decided that we should write some Glee! It's hard going from Dead Poets Society to Glee, but, here is my attempt. I'm hoping Blackbirdox likes it : ) and of course anyone else who reads this. Here ya go, Mal…Puck…just for you.

Disclaimer: Noah Puckerman is not a figment of my imagination…

Being Noah Puckerman's neighbor had never been easy for Mallory Mazzoli. She had been in love with him ever since she was five and he was seven and he had ripped the head off of her Veterinarian Barbie doll after shoving her down to the ground and chuckling in his pre-pubescent voice. It was love at first sight for Mal. There was just something about the way he smiled when he so cruelly tossed the doll's head into the gutter that made her heart flutter. And she'd been hooked unconditionally. But years of watching him chase after the girls that resided in the neighborhood wore down Mal, and she hated that no matter what she did, no matter how many dates she went on, or how many creepy teenage boys attempted to cop a feel, she always found herself thinking of Puck.

It wasn't until Mallory began to blossom and a bra was part of her every day wardrobe that Puck stopped picking on her and began to notice her more feminine assets. Mal knew from observation that to Puck she was more like a walking goal than a potential friend, but she wasn't going to let that feeling bring her down; not when he was complimenting her so nicely in the hallway, leaning against the lockers besides hers and giving her his classic one-over look.

She'd blush a deep scarlet, keep her eyes averted, and mumble some unintelligible response, but he'd keep coming back, no matter how idiotic she ended up acting. And deep down Mal knew what Puck was trying to do, but she ignored it, because she just didn't want to think Puck was like that. She knew that there had to be something more to him than just the muscles and the brawn and the cocky attitude.

And then, when sophomore year was nearly over for Mal and Puck was about to graduate, their street held a block party, celebrating the graduating class, since there were so many seniors in the houses that dotted that area. In Puck-like fashion, he showed up and disappeared with a girl. Out of everyone, Mal had to be shocked the most that that girl turned out to be her.

She tripped up the steps to her room with him in tow. She had been stealing sips of alcoholic beverages all night and was the tiniest bit tipsy, her eyes hazed over nicely with a dull fog that was blind to bad intentions and boys that only wanted one thing.

He laid her back on her bed, far different from when she was five and pushed down into the grass, before crawling over her duvet and leaning above her, grinning the way he always did when he was about to score some hot chick. Mal had no problem being that chick tonight.

She gulped, licking her lips and looking up at him uncertainly, although the booze coursing through her veins was giving her false confidence. Puck leaned down, closing any space between their lips and kissing her with a determination that Mal had never felt before. She'd had a few flings here and there, but her heart had always belonged to Noah Puckerman.

It wasn't long before Puck had their clothes on the floor and the sheets tangled far more than they had ever been before. It was quick, slightly painful, and Mal had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that was far from the ecstasy she had felt just seconds before. She gulped, staring at the ceiling before lolling her head to the side and staring at Puck's profile. He had one hand crooked beneath his head, eyes closed, dozing off peacefully. And Mal couldn't stop thinking about which number she was in Puck's long line-up of girls.

Her fantasy was shattered, and she no longer felt that lingering hint of a crush that she had always harbored for him. Instead she felt numb and dull and she didn't want to lie in bed beside him any longer. But there wasn't exactly anywhere for her to go. She couldn't run to her room and hide. She was already there; she just wasn't crying.

GLEEGLEEGLEEGLEEGLEE

It was the day that Puck headed out to a nearby, dead-beat college, when Mal tromped up the stairs to her room, that she noticed a wrapped box on her bed. She quirked an eyebrow in confusion, hesitantly stepping forward and reaching for it.

She carefully tore the paper, only to reveal a brand new Barbie. A Veterinarian Barbie. The exact model that Puck had ruined twelve years earlier. She furrowed her brows, her eyes darting down to where a scrap of paper had fallen to the covers of her bed. She picked it up, unfolding it.

Neighbor Girl,

Pushing you down on a bed was a lot more pleasing than pushing you down on the ground.

-Noah

P.S. I know your name is Mal. In case you don't know already, I remember exactly when we first met and every time we met after that. See you next summer.

Mal licked her lips, unable to keep her smile at bay. Next summer sounded good to her.

.fin. (or I suppose .puck. would work too)