A/N: So, what started out as a small one-shot kinda morphed into . . . this. Hmmmmm. Ah well, hope you enjoy. I wanted to get it out before the new episode (EEEEEEE!) comes out next week, and seeing as I'm heading to the Middle Ages for the next sennight, I am finishing this four hours before I have to get up for the ferry. So, many apologies for any uncaught errors! Enjoy! Oh, and I hope the change in perspectives isn't too tricksy. *nods*

Disclaimer: The song lyrics belong to Hyphenation-Rose, I am simply borrowing them. TOTALLY COPYRIGHTED, SO DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! Ahhem. Oh, and Glee and all it entails belongs to, well, you know. I'm simply playing in their sandbox.


This Moment, This Boy


Rachel was perplexed. Or angry. She hadn't quite decided yet. At the minute it was a swing vote – her head was going for perplexed, her heart for angry.

A tear fell onto the ivory keys of the piano.

Oh for heaven's sake.

Then again, sad could also work. She sniffed heartily, wishing she had had the forethought to have a box of tissues in her trolley case. She had everything else, from a spare change of clothes to a mini-medikit. Why having tissues in there never crossed her mind, Rachel wasn't sure. One thing was for certain – first thing tomorrow, she was making sure the choir room was well supplied.

Rachel sighed, trying to figure out the mess in her head. She was just so confused. It was like her entire relationship with Finn had been about him changing his mind, and now that it was really, definitely over, she couldn't help but feel that it, well, wasn't. Not really. It seemed they were always pulled back towards each other, no matter what happened, or who else was involved. Back when it all started, she had known that Finn had had a girlfriend, had known that the girlfriend was one of the most popular girls in school, but that hadn't stopped her from dreaming. And maybe it should have. Because kissing someone who was already in a relationship was just not on, and could only end in tears.

Which it clearly had, although a year between the kissing and these particular tears was probably a bit too long to really constitute blame on the girlfriend. But that one kiss had led to everything else – the bowling alley, the brief time they dated after Sectionals, the whole Regionals confessional, and then their relationship and disastrous breakup – and after each situation, Finn had come and gone from her. In everything else she was stong, she knew what she wanted. But when it came to this sweet boy, this first crush, she was helpless in the face of her emotions. Every time he changed his mind, every time he came back, Rachel was there, willing to take him in once again. Her relationship with Jesse had changed the dynamic between them somewhat, but not even Vocal Adrenaline's best had captured her heart like Finn Hudson. A first crush is an incredibly powerful thing, and hers had been no exception.

It was rather annoying the power he held over her. She was a strong-willed, sure of herself young woman, and yet she was sitting alone in a choir room sniffling to herself.

Snnrrk!

'This is getting ridiculous!'

Standing up, now determined to go to the bathroom for tissues as the sound of her own sniffing was getting increasingly annoying, Rachel suddenly noticed a guitar case lying next to the piano. How she had missed it when she first came in, she wasn't sure, but she was definitely noticing it now. She hadn't played guitar in years, much preferring the piano, but something seemed to be drawing her to it, like a spotlight to centre stage. Opening the case, she saw a slightly battered, but clearly well-loved, guitar, resting snugly in a red velvet lining. Picking it up, she danced her fingers gently across the strings, automatically retuning every so slightly. Getting up, she sat back down on the piano stool, humming quietly under her breath.

After so many years, Rachel had thought that she wouldn't remember anything. And it was true, she had forgotten quite a bit. But there was one song that her fingers clearly remembered well, and as she gently strummed the keys, she started to quietly sing.


Shit shit shit!

Puck jogged slowly back to the choir room. He had no clue how he had managed to forget his guitar after rehearsal, but forget it he had. It could have been when Mike and Matt had distracted him by asking him to grab a soda and a game of laser tag after Glee. In fact, they had asked almost before everyone had finished singing, and the idea of running around shooting lasers at random people for an hour or three had really appealed. So, he'd walked straight out without another thought. It wasn't until he arrived home, slightly bruised but hella victorious, that he had realised he was guitar-less. Which was why he was now coming back onto school grounds at five in the afternoon on a freakin' Friday. There was an epic game of Mario waiting for him, and yet he was here, at McKinley. Not to mention his Mom was working a double, so his sister was now sitting in the parking lot, in his truck, waiting for him to come back. Puck sincerely hoped no one had packed the guitar away somewhere, he didn't have time to look anywhere but the choir room. His sister was a feisty little thing, especially this close to dinner . . .

Muttering to himself, he slowed as he reached the partially open door, stopping abruptly when he heard the unmistakable sound of his guitar being played.

Son of a - !

All set to barrel in there and pummel the SOB for touching his precious, Puck raised hid hand to push the door completely open. Then, he heard a soft crooning accompanying the gentle strumming.

You change your flavour constantly

Decide on a style already

One day, it's strawberry

The other, it's plum

Sometimes, you're sweet to me

Makin' me feel good.

Next you're just

Jam on my head.

Peering around the door, Puck's jaw dropped in amazement. Rachel Berry was sitting at the piano, holding his guitar, and quietly singing to herself, completely oblivious of her surroundings. He had been singing with her for over a year now, and never once had he realised that that powerful voice of hers could be used for anything so soft, yet passionate. The power was still there, of course, but it was tempered, like silk over steel.

All rage now gone, and not wanting to bring her attention to his presence, Puck leaned on the door jamb, listening to her song and trying to figure out who she was singing about.

Your sweetness drains me of any

Reality that we are livin'

If you don't get what you want

You take it out on me

You don't realise what you are

But suddenly I see

You're really just

Jam on my he-ad.

Snorting inwardly, he rolled his eyes.

Of course. Saint Finn. Like that noob hasn't. Done. Enough. Now he has to influence her singing too?

And you care why, Noah?

Because she shouldn't be yet another girl to fall smokin' hot ass over teakettle for that nitwit.

And I repeat, why do you care?

Well, there is the smokin' hot ass. In no way does Finn deserve that.

You don't seriously just want to be with her because of her attributes, do you?

Hell no! She's good fun. Slightly crazy, but who isn't these days? And did I mention the smokin' hot ass?

Yes. Twice. Which is what is leading me to question your motives.

Hey! My motives are pure! Mostly . . . OK not really.

I rest my case.

But I also really li– hang on. Am I arguing with myself?

Everyone has a conscience, Noah. Even you.

Argh!

Puck shook his head forcefully, trying to come to terms with the fact that he had been arguing with himself, over Berry, and had just freakin' lost.

Turn your face away from me

So I can't see what you are thinkin'

When it comes to times like these

I don't know what to do

You disappear away from me

You fade into the crowd.

This was obviously a post-breakup situation, and he really didn't want to intrude. Backing slowly away, Puck turned to leave, but before he could take a step the last words of the verse stopped him.

Next time

I won't chase after you

He turned back.

Try to wipe you away,

But you're stuck on mind,

You'll be with me forever,

Just fading over time . . .

Holy shit.

Pretty much.

Aw crap, you again?

What can I say. I'm annoying.

Aint that the truth.

Well, I am you, so it's no wonder, really . . .

'Hey!'

Puck hadn't realised he had spoken out loud until he heard a gasp and a screech of an incorrectly played chord. Looking up, he saw Rachel staring at him in shock with wide, red rimmed eyes.

Aw shit.


Rachel had been totally caught up in the moment, singing a song she hadn't played in years, but felt was so completely right for her situation. She hadn't even noticed that she was crying, and it wasn't until she heard a loud exclamation from behind her that the spell was broken and she felt the dampness on her cheeks. Spinning around in horror, because really, she had intended this to be a private moment, Rachel was even more shocked to discover that it wasn't just anybody who was at the door, but Noah Puckerman.

After the fiasco with Finn, Rachel had tried to keep her distance from Noah, but had failed miserably. After a few awkward days, Noah had shown the maturity that she always knew he possessed and chosen to not speak of what had happened between them. Rachel had appreciated his effort, and while her heart was still a mess after what had gone down, she found herself spending more time with him then she normally would have.

And she found that she liked it.

While Noah still cussed like a sailor on shore leave, Rachel had a feeling that most of the time her was doing it on purpose just to annoy her. In fact, she had a notion that he only did it as often as he did so that she could tell him off. He'd smirk in that annoying (read:adorable) way of his, and Rachel would find herself slapping him on the (very, very nice) arm and telling him to wipe that look off his face before she did something he'd regret.

Truth be told, Rachel loved the excuse to touch him.

And so the cycle continued. Much to her increasing chargrin, it never went any further. Instead, Noah just treated her like a friend, which, when she thought about it, was actually rather nice. However, these last few weeks, Rachel had noticed him looking at her with a strange look on his face, turning away swiftly once he realised that she was now looking at him. It was the look in his eyes that got to her more than anything else, almost like he was trying to see through her, in some way. She had questioned him about it on one occasion, in that straight-forward Rachel Berry way of hers, but he had been remarkably evasive, making light of her questions with his trademark smirk. The look in his eyes, however, didn't go away, and it still bothered her that she hadn't been able to figure out what it meant.

Now here he was, bursting in on a moment that Rachel had really hoped to keep private, seeing her not only red-eyed and weepy but . . . well, no, that was about the gist of it. Carefully placing the guitar back in its case, Rachel quickly wiped her eyes and stood to face Puck.

'Noah, I'm sorry, I just – I was about to leave, and I saw the guitar, and something – I really didn't mean to, and I do apologise profusely for whatever harm I may have caused by playing it and - '

'Why were you singing about jam?'

Slightly miffed to have been interrupted, Rachel was nothertheless glad that he wasn't angry. She was rather surprised at his attitude, truth be told. He seemed . . . perturbed. Almost uncomfortable, in fact. Which was just ridiculous, as he was never uncomfortable about anything. Although Mercedes had told her that he looked like he had had a mallet to the head when he was watching Quinn give birth, but Rachel supposed that any father would look that way at the birth of their child.

'Berry? Hello? You in there?'

Rachel shook her head, snapping herself out of her memories. 'I apologise again, Noah, I was thinking on something else. What was your question?' Brushing her hair back from her face, she decided that sitting would be a good idea. While she was opposed to having such a well-built young man looming over her (and she did admit that he was indeed very . . . built) the emotions of the day were catching up with her, and she was suddenly feeling rather tired.

Rubbing the back of his head, Puck walked over to where she was now sitting on the piano stool and joined her. He leant forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. Looking at Rachel over his shoulder, he saw her looking at him with a puzzled expression on her face, her tired brown eyes still red from her tears.

'I asked why you were singing about jam.'


Puck watched as Rachel blinked at him with those big chocolate eyes of hers. He could almost see her brain ticking over, trying to come up with a suitable – but blatantly false – answer. He´d known for some time now that Rachel´s tell was a blink, and he planned on having a lot of fun with it in the future. Now, however, he wanted a plain answer . . .

'Oh, it was nothing, really. Just a simple metaphor for the chains of the past that are always with us, no matter how hard we try to get rid of them. Really, it´s a wonder that any of us are able to move through the halls with the amount of emotional baggage that we have - '

. . . which he clearly wasn´t going to get. Sighing in frustration at the tiny brunette next to him, Puck reached out and placed a hand gently over her mouth. Rachel stopped talking rather abruptly, and Puck would have found it amusing if he hadn't been so annoyed.

And worried. You´re worried about her as well.

Go. Away! Now is not the time!

Don´t use that tone with me, young man!

And now his inner voice was sounding like his mother. Great. Like this couldn't get any weirder.

'Agh! Holy crap! Son of a mother damn!'

And then Rachel bit him.


When Noah had first placed his hand over her mouth in the middle of her – blatantly false - explanation, the sizzle of heat at his touch that had sped from her lips to pool in her belly had rendered Rachel momentarily silent. Somewhere in the fuzzy background of her mind, she knew she should be indignant, but at the moment, she really didn't care. Things had short-circuited, and she was currently goo-girl.

Mmmmm. I could just spread him on a cracker . . .

At that little inner monologue, Rachel was brought out of her hormone-induced fugue with the realisation of what she had just been thinking. While she may have been a teenager, she was not one to be ruled by her libido! And from a mere touch of a boy's hand! The madness!

So she did the first thing that popped into her head.

Rachel Berry bit Noah Puckerman.

And not in the good way.


Cradling his hand, Puck looked down and saw that while Rachel was a tiny slip of a thing, her voice was not the only weapon at her disposal. He was bleeding.

Friggin´ bleeding! This is ridiculous! The midget bit me, and now I'm bleeding!

Forgetting for the moment that he actually wanted to know what was wrong, and help if he could, Puck glared at Rachel angrily, wincing - in a manly fashion, of course – as his palm throbbed.

'What the hell was that for?'

Puck had to admit that she looked a little chagrined.

'Don´t cuss, Noah. And you interrupted me! I did not appreciate it!'

Although clearly not enough to apologise for it. At least she hadn't slapped him.

Dammit.

'That said, I may have been somewhat . . . extreme . . . in my riposte. So I apologise.'

Or perhaps not.

Muttering a few more choice expletives under – very under – his breath, Puck forced his trademark smirk back into play.

'Hey, no problem. I'm up to date on all my shots.' He chuckled at her pointed glare, watching her sigh in amused frustration, blowing her bangs away from her face in the process.

'I do apologise, Noah. It was not my intention to seriously harm you, just to get your palm away from my mouth.'

Puck smirked inwardly when he heard her breath hitch a little at the word 'mouth', especially as her eyes flicked straight to his when she said it. Why he was going from wanting to comfort her to wanting to be her – sexy, badass – comfort was beyond him, but he'd go with it.

Then, his hearing caught up with his brain.

'The hell – seriously harm? Rach, you couldn't 'seriously harm' the Puckerone if you tried. Seriously harm.' He let out an indignant snort. 'Please.'

'Noah, you're bleeding. I think that speaks for itself.'

'Pff. This? This is nothing. Don't worry about it.' He wiped the smear of red on the side of his jeans, earning an indignant huff and a slap on the shoulder.

Finally!

It was Rachel's turn to roll her eyes at him as he rubbed his shoulder in mock pain, before allowing her smile to break through.

Looking at her again, Puck reached out without thinking and tucked an errant piece of hair behind her ear.

'Besides, it's my fault, really. I should've remembered that you're a biter.'

All the air suddenly disappeared from the room. Their eyes locked, and Puck swallowed. He hadn't meant to say that much, it just kind of . . . came out. He watched as Rachel´s lips parted as she breathed in sharply, her tongue quickly moistening them in an almost nervous gesture. This, of course, drew Puck´s focus even more intently to her lips, and almost without realising what he was doing, he started leaning towards her.

Well this is interesting . . .


At first, Rachel had been outraged at what Noah had insinuated. Up to date on all his shots indeed! She had apologised, though, as he had been bleeding. However, the conversation had taken a rather . . . interesting . . . turn after that.

In the blink of an eye, the room became charged with the same electricity that Rachel had felt a mere minute ago. All of a sudden she was in the grip of emotions she had not felt in a very long time. The mere mention of a shared remembrance with a boy – who, it should be said, had insulted her just seconds before – seemed to be able to turn her to jelly.

Jelly that was incredibly aware of the very fine male specimen sitting next to her.

Rachel could feel everything. The racing of her heart, the slight breeze on her lips from her sped up breathing, the tingle in her fingertips, the prickle of heat where the pads of his fingers brushed against her forehead. She knew that she shouldn't be doing this, she should be annoyed with him, she should be cleaning the blood off properly, anything but this. Instead, she was leaning in, drawn towards him by some inexplicable force.

Rachel watched in fascination as her hand seemed to drift up on its own accord and wrap itself behind Noah's neck. She felt the small hairs at the back, and gently ran her fingers over them, smiling inwardly at the way his pupils seemed to dilate even more.

When he had found her, Rachel had been overwhelmed by melancholy thoughts. Reaching such a decision about Finn had been a long time in coming, but that hadn't made it any less painful. Then Noah had burst in unexpectedly, and now everything seemed . . . shiny.

You have an adult vocabulary at your disposal with which you could more aptly describe your feelings, and yet you choose to quote from a television series? Again? For shame.

For once, Rachel chose to ignore that little voice, the one that pushed her to be better, to strive harder, to reach the unattainable. She was shocked to discover that right now, she didn't want to be better.

And she was loving every moment.


Uh oh. What am I doing? This is not good . . .

And yet, you´re not stopping.

Bugger. Off.

Thinking forcefully on a hand gesture that Rachel would no doubt highly disapprove of, Puck ignored his inner voice once again, choosing instead to focus on the – totally awesome – fact that he was not the only one leaning in.

As clichéd as he knew it was, Puck could smell her. Not in the weird, JewFro way of inhaling creepily whenever she walked by, but in the normal, and yet totally abnormal, way. Rachel smelled like goodness tinged with sadness, ambition tinged with love. He could smell cinnamon on her hair and peaches on her lips, and it was all Puck could do not to pull her closer as fast as he could.

He nearly groaned out loud when she started stroking the back of his neck.

Well damn.

All the women he'd been with, and he'd never known the back of a neck could be so sensitive. Repressing a shiver, Puck abruptly remembered that his hand was still in her hair. Almost without thinking consciously about it, he wrapped his fingers more tightly in her dark tresses, using the leverage to slowly pull her closer. Not that he needed to, as she seemed to be just as helpless to the magnetic pull as he was.

Well, I suppose that´s a good thing . . . at least she´s not angry anymore . . . wonder if she´ll bite something el-

'PUUUUUCK!'

And just like that, the magic was broken. As Rachel whipped her arm down Puck let go of her hair and leapt up, immediately missing the silken feel of it on his fingers. He shoved his hand in his pocket, the other one rubbing the back of his neck, still feeling her caress.

'Puck, where are you? I'm hungry!'

Cursing his sister from her to the afterlife, Puck stomped to the door and ripped it open, poking his head out the door and seeing the little brat about halfway down the hall, a petulant look on her face. Sticking her bottom lip out even further, she ran the last few feet to where he was standing.

'You promised you'd be back in five minutes. It's been forever, and I wanna go HOME!'

And now she was whining. Brilliant.

Puck ground his teeth in all the times . . .

'I'll be out soon. I'm just helping a friend pack up some stuff. Go back to the car.'

'But - '

'I said go back to the car!'

Huffing in a very Rachel (read:annoying) way at his tone, his sister nothertheless got the hint and stomped off, muttering all the while about telling their mother about his treatment of her. Snarling some very bad words, Puck turned back into the room and started walking back towards Rachel, closing the door none too softly behind him. He saw her smoothing down her hair with shaking hands before gathering her things together and standing up.

'Rach - ' He moved towards her, a hand out, reaching for her. She stepped back quicker than thought, a hand of her own going out as if to stop him, a rueful smile on her face.

'Noah, don't. I think it's for the best. While the interruption could definitely have come at a better time, I think we can both agree that going down that path would not have been the smartest thing to do.'

Puck stared at her, mouth hanging open like a fool. 'Like hell, Berry!'

By reaching down to pick up the handle of her trolley case, Rachel managed to avoid making eye contact.

'Noah, I have just come out of a serious relationship, and I am in no place spiritually or mentally to start anything with anyone else.' She turned to walk away.

Puck just gaped at her as she walked past him to the door, not quite able to believe how everything had gone from being near perfection to being entirely fubar'd beyond reckoning in the space of a few minutes.

'The hell with this.'

In two strides Puck caught up with her near the door. Rachel had turned partway around at his curse, and the look of sadness-tinged annoyance changed to one of shocked surprise when she saw him almost upon her.

Before she could take a breath, his lips were on hers, silencing her in the best possible way. The handle of Rachel's trolley case fell from numb fingers, the bang as it hit the floor not even registering. Groaning in the back of his throat, Puck pushed Rachel back against the door, pouring all of his pent up feelings into the kiss, knowing that this was the moment that could change everything.

After what seemed like eternity, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers as they both caught their breath. Moving slowly, he pressed his stubble-roughened cheek against her own smooth one, breathing words he never thought he'd say, but that he couldn't keep in if he tried.

'Don't think. Please, for once, don't think. Just . . . be. Want. Have.'


Words whispered heatedly in her ear, his cheek to her hers, one hand in her hair and the other wrapped possessively around her waist. Pulling away slightly, Rachel bought a hand up to caress his cheek. Her heart fluttered (even more) when he turned into it and kissed her palm.

Oh, this boy.

He wasn't perfect.

Rachel knew this. He cussed, he preferred violence over diplomacy for conflict resolution, he was entirely too addicted to junk food . . . but he was himself.

And wasn't that good.

Rachel smiled at him, her hand moving slowly from his cheek to rest above his heart. It was beating wildly, almost out of control. Nothing sane or calm about Noah.

And wasn't that fantastic.

She smiled, her heart in her eyes, letting everything she felt for the young man in front of her show through, knowing that no words needed to be said.

The answering smile on his face was all she needed.

He laughed softly, his hazel eyes dancing with happiness and something deep and tender that Rachel, as much as was feeling, decided not to delve into at that moment. Noah was right, she thought too much.

She pulled him back towards her, missing his lips on hers.

Right now, there was this moment, and this boy.

And wasn't that amazing.

A/N: Well, I hope you liked it. Twas a bit of a mission to get everything how I liked it, but I think I got there in the end. Hopefully. Eeep! = ) Thanks for reading! Reviews are fabu! Just so yas know. =P

Em

P.S If y'all like it, keep your eyes peeled for a sequel! = )