Author's Note: I told you guys I was working on something big, and I finally feel like I have enough of it hashed out that I can start to share it; I'm hoping to update it once a week. It's been pretty quiet here lately, so I hope this will liven up the board (read: I'll know it is lively if I get a lot of reviews. wink wink, nudge nudge).

As the summary stated, this piece is inspired by my new TV obsession, The Good Wife. However, please know that this is not just going to be that show with different characters. I simply thought the idea (which, let's be honest, is really just a love triangle at its core) could work for the Puck-Rachel-Finn dynamic. Everything that happened on Glee up until Finn put Rachel on the train to New York is still true, then we skip ahead 10 years and find lots has changed - and some things maybe never will. :)

Rachel twirled her fork around the noodles, waiting until the end spun fully before lifting it to her mouth. She looked around the restaurant as she chewed, noting the familiar faces and same decor that she'd seen for nearly the past 15 years. Nothing about Breadsticks had changed since she'd first ate here back in high school, and normally she liked that; she'd grown used to the predictability of her life, learned to not just accept it but crave it in some aspects. She liked having a plan, knowing what to expect. There was something settling about knowing what day they were coming, what she was going to order, and that it was going to be delicious. However, recently, all she could focus on was that one word:

Settling.

There was no reason for it to suddenly occupy so much of her mind. It had been 10 years since she'd graduated high school and her life had changed so much since then that those left in it knew better than to think she hadn't been at the helm of her decisions. But, lately, there had been an echo of regret waking her at night, distracting her from her normally positive thoughts and instead making her wonder. She wondered what life would be like if she hadn't married Finn right out of high school. She wondered what would have happened if they'd moved from Lima. She wondered if she could have made it on Broadway, or if she could now.

Those thoughts instantly made her feel guilty, though, as she'd never take back the past 10 years. She and Finn were perfectly happy, living in the house Carole and Burt had bought together when they'd first married. They'd left it to the young couple once they finally decided to move closer to Columbus since Burt was at the capitol so much anyway. Plus, it wasn't like Kurt needed his childhood bedroom once he'd graduate; he rarely visited then and almost never did now. They both worked at McKinley and co-directed the glee club, which was working on a record of consecutive wins that marveled Voice Adrenaline's. They had a son, Christopher, who just turned seven and was such a perfect combination of the two of them that it was impossible for her to wish her life was any different.

It might not have been what she had dreamt about when she was younger, but that just meant she'd finally learned to embrace the brilliance of the unexpected.

"Would you like to try a bite?" She asked merrily, her mood improving as soon as she'd recalled all the reasons she had to be thankful. "It's divine."

Finn had been quiet throughout much of the night, which wasn't unusual as of late. He'd been working particularly hard at the school, in the middle of a huge debate with the principal - who was none other than Sue Sylvester, though she'd tamed a bit as her daughter had grown more - about athletics and budgets. Rachel tried not to bring it up because she remembered how upset it had made him when it all first began, but she also hated to see him so sad. She still couldn't stand when he was upset, though she didn't normally have to wait so long to pry the source out of him.

"Finn," she began gently, her hand reaching tentatively across the table and into his large palm. "We promised to always be open with one another. We've celebrated 10 beautiful years of marriage because of this and I just want you to …"

"I think I'm in love with someone else."

Rachel's mouth snapped shut, her eyes blinking several times in surprise. She wanted to believe she'd heard him wrong. There was no way something like this could happen to her, could happen to them. Not after they'd gone through so much. He couldn't do that to her. He wouldn't do that to their family. She ripped her hand out of his limp grasp, tangling it in the napkin on her lap just to focus on anything else but the millions of thoughts coursing through her mind.

"I'm sorry. I know this is not the time, but you were looking at me like that and it's been killing me having these feelings and … I love you, Rachel." He pushed forward, his hand all the way at the end of the table but still unable to reach her suddenly sunken form. "I do. I love you so much."

The sound of him laughing makes her eyes jerk up, staring at him in narrow slits. How could he laugh at a time like this? Was he joking? Was this some weird joke that she didn't understand - like a lot of his jokes - that they would laugh about on the way home? Home. She'd made this her home, made this her life and now …

"It's just … it's like in high school with you and Quinn." She tensed immediately, holding her breath before he quickly shook his head. "It's not Quinn. I just, I mean … I loved her, back then. But then I met you and hung around you and … I started to love you, too."

Her gaze fell back to her lap, tears stinging the corners though she'd already resigned to herself that she wouldn't cry. It wasn't because she wanted to appear strong or because she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of so many townspeople. Instead, Rachel knew that sadness would not be the emotion that won the battle currently waging war inside her. Resentment, anger, spitefulness, these emotions were running too wild, too deep to be ignored, and it was all she could do not to storm out.

That was what Rachel Berry would do. Rachel Hudson, however, was a completely different person.

"Do I know her?"

His eyes flashed with a regret she had yet to see, and it actually made her feel a little better. Not great, of course, because she could tell immediately that the answer was yes and she knew without thinking too hard that it was probably someone from school. Despite her social awkwardness growing up, Rachel was quite friendly with much of the staff at McKinley. They'd thrown parties at their house for the teachers, even went on vacation with one of their closest couple-friends from there. Yet one of them, someone who knew her and knew Finn was married and knew he had a family, had disregarded it all.

"Have you slept with her?"

She held her breath, terrified of the answer. It would still have been wrong, but Rachel could have handled an emotional affair. She knew Finn and she understood how big his heart was, how easily he might be able to develop feelings for someone else - maybe even without that person's knowledge. If it were just infatuation or even an emotional connection, then she could work with that. They could work on that, carving more time out of their days to spend together as husband and wife and not parent's to Chris or as glee directors. They could become Rachel and Finn again.

But, when she watched his face fall and nod ever-so-slightly, there was nothing left to do. She'd been working on their relationship since she was 16 years old and in one evening, it was ruined. He'd ruined it, and he didn't deserve any of those emotions that had been swirling inside her. She wasn't going to cry, she wasn't going to yell, she wasn't even going to threaten. Instead, she simply wiped her mouth with the napkin that had been tightly balled up in her hands, stood up and left. She didn't turn back around, she didn't hesitate for a moment. She walked out, and got the first connecting bus to New York that was available.

"Hello, Daddy," she said evenly as soon as she'd boarded. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course, Pumpkin. What is it?"

Rachel sighed heavily, feeling her heart constrict for so many different reasons. The breaking feeling was starting to consume her, but she also couldn't ignore the immense amount of love she felt for her fathers at that moment. Things with them had been rough in the beginning, as they'd never approved of her and Finn marrying so early. And yet, despite the fact that all signs would point to them being right, she knew they wouldn't use that against her. They wouldn't hesitate for one moment to help her, just like they haven't the entire time she'd been in Ohio.

"Can you take care of Christopher for the weekend?"

"Is everything okay?"

She sensed the hesitation in his voice, and she couldn't hide this from them. Not in Lima, at the very least. "No," she answered honestly. "I had to leave, unexpectedly. And … I'm not comfortable with Finn caring for him in my absence."

"Is … will … should we expect Finn?"

Rachel snorted out of sardonic chuckle, thinking she was not the authority on what to expect. If she were, she wouldn't feel so blindsided right now. Her head wouldn't be spinning with trying to remember everything about the past 10 years. She wouldn't be replaying the last school year in her mind over and over, trying to recall every excuse he'd made for being late or distracted or tired or … wrong.

"I don't know," she finally settled on, suddenly exhausted. "Maybe."

"Okay." He paused for a second, then whispered, "And you're okay?"

She nodded needlessly before assuring him that she'd be in touch, most certainly tomorrow so she could speak with her son. It had been almost reflexive that she'd left Lima, but Rachel was immediately sorry she'd been so irrational. She had a son, a son who meant more to her than she ever thought possible. She had a life, a job. It was April and school wouldn't be over for another month. She couldn't just drop everything on a whim and just leave all that behind.

But she did need to get her head straight, and she couldn't do that in Lima. Literally everything about the town would remind her of Finn, if only because he'd been the only reason she'd stayed. Regardless of how much she refused to regret her decisions now, knowing the outcome, that simple fact remained true. She would have left if it hadn't been for Finn, even if it ended up only being for a year or five or however long it took for her to either reach her goals or quit. She would have tried, and she would have tried harder than anyone else had ever tried before.

She wouldn't have settled until she was the best.

Rachel shook those thoughts from her mind, knowing it wasn't doing her any good to get so worked up about the past. What's done is done, and she needed to focus on the present, on the future. She had so much at stake, and not a lot of time to figure everything out. Starting with where she was going. Kurt and Blaine lived in a loft in the city, but it seemed foolish to go to Finn's brother for help. No matter how close she was to them, they'd surely be on his side; Kurt always loved to point out how dramatic she was. She was sure he would call her a diva if she showed up at their doorstep.

That only, really, left Santana. They weren't exactly best friends, but Santana wasn't that way with really anyone. They at least kept in touch, though, mostly because they'd grown closer back when they'd both stuck around Lima after high school. That summer and the following year - before Santana finally left to make something of herself - the two of them were as close of friends as Rachel had been with Kurt and her with Brittany. It had mostly just been for comfort or just because, but it grew from that and, hopefully, still was worth something.

"Hello?"

"Santana, hi," she rushed out, matching the Latina's busy tone. "I hope this isn't a bad time. It's late, I know."

"It's not even 10, Berry," she scoffed. "Or should I add you to the list of retards who think New York is in a different timezone than Ohio?"

"No, yes. I mean, I know it isn't." She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I actually need to ask you something. A favor, please." Rachel sighed again when Santana just snored into the receiver, obviously waiting for her to get to the point. "I'm on my way to New York. I'm … on a bus." She cleared her throat. "I was hoping I might be able to stay with you, if it weren't too much trouble."

"Trouble in paradise?"

She hesitated for a moment, still sometimes scared to open up too much to Santana for fear of ridicule. They might have gotten closer, but Santana hadn't necessarily gotten any nicer. Rachel had simply learned that was just how Santana was, and learned to find the good under all the bad that was normally all mixed together. Still, if Rachel expected to show up in New York and pretend everything was fine while in the presence of Santana Lopez, she must be more tired than she thought - to the point of hallucinations.

"Yes, I'm afraid." Her eyes dropped to her lap even though there was no way to save face over the phone. "I promise not to be a nuisance and I'll pay you if that's the issue. I just really don't want to find a hotel once I get there and …"

"When's your bus comin'?"

"Uh," Rachel stuttered, surprised by the concern laced in the Latina's voice. "We're scheduled to arrive between 5 and 6 in the morning."

"That's perfect."

"It is?"

"Yeah. I'll stop by and get ya after leavin' the clubs. Bye!"

Rachel rushed out a goodbye, but the line had already gone dead. She sat and stared at the blank screen on her phone for a few minutes, still shocked at how quickly Santana's mood/mind had changed. It was refreshing, to not have to beg or grovel to get her to agree, though there was part of her that knew better than to think it would be that easy. Santana wasn't the kind of friend who lent an ear or a shoulder to cry on. Not that Rachel intended to need either of those things; she just didn't want to be alone.

The thought echoed in her brain the entirety of the trip, keeping her just out of reach of sleep despite the soft rocking of the bus as it moved through state after state. She hadn't been alone since she was 16 years old, and now she wasn't sure she could do it. There was so much more at stake now, too, so much risk involved. She couldn't just think about herself, either, but had to consider her son and his needs/wants, too. Their life was entwined and her decisions were just as important to his future as it was to hers.

"Hobbit!"

Rachel descended the last step off the bus, her eyes lifting comically at the last-minute sign Santana had constructed to garner her attention. The offensive nickname was written with lipstick, and a previous name had been crossed out below it. Still, she got a rush of excitement that someone was waiting for her - in New York City.

"Are you drunk?"

"Only buzzed now. Let's go." Santana pulled the petite brunette by her arm, walking alongside her toward the line of cabs waiting to take passengers to their first destination. She basically pushed her into one before a fellow rider could take it, closing the door and barking, "96 and Park," to the driver.

The ride to her apartment didn't take as long as Rachel would have expected, the infamous New-York-City traffic evidently nonexistent before dawn. However, though it was short, watching the sun rise over the large skyscrapers and beautiful landscape of the city made her heart race. Despite the exhaustive night, Rachel had never felt more alive in her whole life. The rush she felt that first time in New York with the glee club came flooding back, her smile wider than normal as they climbed the stairs to Santana's loft.

"Home sweet home," she announced, throwing her keys onto the nearest surface and kicking off her heels almost as quickly.

Rachel's eyes scanned the area swiftly, surprised by the size in the opposite way she would have expected. Santana always boasted about how perfect her life was, living in New York as a soon-to-be internationally famous model. The apartment wasn't necessarily small, but it lacked the luxury that Rachel would have assumed the Latina demanded. Instead, there was a homey feeling where she would have expected a lot of glitz and glamour.

"I'm gonna crash. You can take the couch."

"Santana," she called out just before the Latina was out of sight. "Um, thank you."

Santana simply shrugged before disappearing down a hallway, but then showed up again just when Rachel was about to lie down on the couch. "Just to be clear, I'm tired. When I wake up, you're going to tell me the plan because ya ain't livin' here all your life and you sure as shit ain't goin' back to that lousy asshole."

"Santana …" Rachel bit her lip, ending her rebuttal there after scorched with a look that could kill. So she simply nodded and worked on said plan while Santana slept. Unfortunately, four hours wasn't long enough to fix her entire life after it had so abruptly blown up in her face. "I'm sorry!"

"Sorry isn't good enough," Santana yelled back when Rachel had told her such, reaching inside her refrigerator for a bottle of water. "You can't just have nothing."

"Excuse me, but I'm still a bit in shock about the turn of events."

"Well maybe that's your first problem. Maybe you should have known this all would have gone down the shitter when you were dumb enough to marry someone at 18." She took a long sip from the bottle, breathing heavily afterward and then softening her voice. "Look, I'm on your side. You played second fiddle to Finn for 10 years. Now it's your turn."

Rachel sighed, wishing now that she would have taken that nap. She'd never felt more worn down in all her life. "I don't even know where to start."

"Are you going to move here?"

"What? No … I …"

"Rachel. It's time to be selfish. Wasn't New York the plan?"

"Yes, but … it's nearly the end of the year. There couldn't possibly be any teaching jobs and …"

Santana snorted in derision. "Did you come here to be a teacher?" She shook her head, knowing the answer. "This is fuckin' New York City. The land of all your dreams, come true."

"It's not that simple," Rachel reasoned. "Christopher …"

"He'll be fine. Thanks for not bringing him, by the way; I was a couple tequilla shots in when that thought crossed my mind." She shuttered in demonstration of how scared she must have been at the idea of housing Rachel's son. "Summer is right around the corner. And your dad's are loaded; they can fly him out here a few weekends, if you miss him so damn much."

Rachel huffed out a breath, not appreciating the way Santana was shooting down every single one of her excuses. That only left the truth. "I'm scared." She bowed her head even further (somehow), her voice thick with emotion. "What if I don't have what it takes? What if I never did?"

"Then at least you find out."

Rachel lifted her head, watching as Santana left the room. It wasn't that she expected the Latina to refute the possibility of failure; if this was still high school, there was no doubt that she would have just added to it or outright validated the claims. So, considering who she was talking to, it did surprise her how encouraging the response was. The wicked grin on her face as she came back out with her cell phone extended was also oddly reassuring.

"If I've learned anything here, it's not what ya know, but who."

There was no question who she meant, and Rachel couldn't help the way her cheeks burned at how quickly he'd crossed her mind as well. She hadn't seen Noah since graduation, when he basically grabbed his diploma and a plane to Los Angeles in practically the same breath. She'd heard about him, though, of course. His mother still lived in Lima and they spoke frequently at temple. Rachel almost felt bad for her, knew she missed Noah as well as Sarah, who was finishing up art school soon and likely wouldn't run back to the nest like Mrs. Puckerman hoped. From her, she knew that Noah had basically taken over the west coast in the amount of time it took Rachel to finish her degree (or, Finn, rather, since hers was put on hold for a little more than a year to care for Christopher). He lived in New York now and was one of the most successful music producers in the industry.

"I can't just call him," she stated, lifting her hand to silence the argument she saw brewing in the Latina. "This isn't the kind of thing I can just leave in a message."

"Well," Santana grinned, checking the time on her phone. "He'll probably be leaving for lunch soon."

For two people who'd never worked well together, it was incredible how fast Rachel was showered, dressed and pushed into a cab headed to his studio. She tried to distract herself from the nervous thoughts by focusing on the passing scenery, a jolt of excitement coursing through her when the driver pulled onto Broadway; just being on the street seemed to cement in her mind just how exhilarating this entire trip was - how her life could be. It also made it very clear just how much was on the line by meeting Noah, and how perhaps ambushing him wasn't the best idea.

Yet, once he came into view after she'd exited the cab and stood outside the studio building, she couldn't have imagined anything better. He still looked exactly the same, his mohawk trimmed but still edgy and his smirk equally so. He wore a pair of dark wash jeans paired with a gray T-shirt for a band she hadn't heard of before; she spent less time wondering how much music she'd missed out on and more on the way his muscles flexed against the sleeves when he caught the door to hold it open for someone else. He was still the sexiest man she'd ever seen and, despite everything, she still felt bad for thinking such.

"Noah."

Puck's hand tightened involuntarily against the hard metal of the door he'd been holding, his whole body tensing at the sound of that voice. Her voice. It wasn't possible, he thought before turning around and immediately catching her eye. His breath caught in his throat, his mind rewinding too quickly too many years back before he was able to pull himself to the present and focus on her. She looked so different, and yet so much like he remembered her that he couldn't help the way his shocked expression grew to a genuine smile, his feet moving him close enough so his arms could slide around her frame.

"Hey," he choked out, clearing his throat as he released her and took a step back. "What are you doing here?"

"It's sort of a long story." She tried to hide the sadness from her tone, hoped desperately that he still couldn't read her as well as he could when they were younger. "I don't want to take too much of your time; I'm sure you're busy. But, I … have a question."

His eyebrow cocked in interest, wondering what could possibly have her so flustered. She rambled when she was nervous, but this was different. She was being very careful with her words, which made him wonder what she was hiding. What could she be trying not to say?

"I wanted to inquire about a possible job opening, here." She pushed some of her hair back anxiously, doing her best to keep looking in his eyes despite how badly she wanted to turn away. "I promise I'll work hard and I don't care if I have to start at the bottom; I expect it, actually. I just … need … something."

"You're lookin' for a job?" He asked, wanting to clarify after he'd gotten lost in her words (slash her eyes). "Did you guys move here? Where's Finn?"

Rachel flinched at the mention of his name, and her gaze finally fell to her feet. It was only then that he allowed himself to survey her more clearly, noting the clothes looked more like Santana than her and that her makeup wasn't doing a great job at covering up what looked to be a long night. There was desperation in her tone and even though he wanted to know what had happened, he wanted to help her more.

"Sure." He adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder, hiding from the snap of her eyes onto his by busying himself with his phone. "Come by Monday. We'll get ya started."

"That's … that's it?"

He chuckled at her surprise, relished the twinkle in her eyes and the thought that he'd been the one to put it there. "You're still Rachel Berry, right?"

She blinked at the question, having considered it just last night during dinner. So much of her life had changed - in 10 years and again in just a single night - but that girl who dreamt bigger than the world was still there. She could feel her and Noah saw her. If those two things were true, then that meant she couldn't be that far beneath the surface. She could be Rachel Berry again.

"Yes," she finally said, with a confidence that she hadn't felt in years. "Yes, I am."