Disclaimer: don't own Glee...though I wish I did...

AN: This is definitely not as great as it could be, but what the hell, right? Part of my POV challenge: Puck's unwanted house-guest, Mr. Mousy. His take on Puckleberry,,,

Review! :)

I remember when he moved in, he was peculiar, and never really bothered my home under the floor in the kitchen. His footsteps were light, as if his body size didn't compare to the clouds he was walking on.

His Mohawk always made my skin crawl, though, the way it stuck out like a sore thumb. She loved it though, I could tell by the way she made a note to touch it at least once every ten minutes. Like she's refreshing her battery, just by touch.

I've been watching them. Seeing how no other mice live in these floorboards, I don't really have any socialization, and their my only source of life besides the creepy crawlies. Its like one of those romantic comedies she makes him watch, when I get to eat their dropped popcorn and liquorice.

Its enjoyable enough, but sometimes their sexual tension kills me. Like, sure my brain capacity is about the size of a raisin, but hell, I know what love is.

They are love, in their own way.

One week though, I would definitely cross out the word love, and replace it with absolutely crazy.

She had cooked that night, as she did every Friday. Something vegan, and smelt lovely. I had waited patiently, as they and their friends ate and played some sort of card game. They looked close, just side by side. When she was in the kitchen with the three other girls, and he was in the living room with the four other guys, they continued to look at each other.

As they finished up, she was doing the dishes and he was sending his friends out. They were laughing, and the word love applied. But then, a moment passed, and a girlish gasp rang through the apartment.

"Noah," she was calm, as she spoke to the man at the door. "Noah!"

"What, Rach? Is-" I saw him, then I saw the problem. I had been into the show so much, that I had drifted towards their left over dinner. "Holey shit! A rat!"

Rat? Hell-o, I'm a mouse. MOUSE!

Damn.

"It's a mouse, Noah, and be quiet. You'll scare it."

She was bending down onto her knees and was looking at me dead in the eyes.

"You're kinda cute, aren't you?"

Trust the girl to want to make friends with me, while the guy was slowly backing away in obvious fear. Reaching out her index finger, she made her way to pat my head.

Hell no.

Grabbing a bit of their dinner, I dashed to the floorboards.

The next day, I woke up early, only to find the two of them fighting. He was holding a mousetrap, and it didn't exactly look humane. She had her hand on his chest and was talking about animal rights.

As they bickered, I sauntered to the open cereal box, tipped it over and grabbed a few pieces, setting myself up for the show.

It lasted an hour, and they hadn't noticed me at all. Bonus.

It ended with them agreeing to set up a few traps, all of them safe.

"Why are you so scared of a little mouse, Noah?"

"I'm not scared Rach, I'm-"

"Badass, I know!"

When she rolled her eyes, I let out a squeak and scurried for the floorboards.

Later that night, they set up six traps, all with her delicious cooking in it.

I had to be strong, because I have to find out whether or not they are going to get together.

The next afternoon, she comes over, with a big smile.

He opens the door, with a questioning look. She never comes over on Sundays, her job too demanding or something.

"I have great news."

That's how it really clicked for them that day, I guess.

She didn't even need to explain, because he jumped her, picking her up.

"You got the lead, didn't you?"

She didn't say anything, just let herself fall into a series of little kisses on his neck which lead up his jaw line to one final kiss on his lips.

I was so shocked I dropped the cracker bits.

FINALLY!

It suddenly felt like I was watching porn, but god, it was just so good.

The word love overlapped crazy, until he ended up stepping on one of my traps as he carried her, kissing each other.

Damn it.

She suddenly looked flustered, and left in a hurry, without even a good by, barely touching his hair.

Those three days when she didn't visit, felt like she had dropped off the edge of the earth. Her cooking, her movies. He moved in slow motion, only leaving the apartment to go to work. His friend in the wheelchair stopped by, asking what happened. He apparently heard from Quinn, who heard from Mike and Matt, who heard from Britt who had overheard it from Santana. Craziness had settled within their circle of friends.

"She got the part, and we….just…started….-"

"To makeout 'in a fashion of a brutal love scene which no one would be able to endure'- Rachel's quote was the only thing that wasn't twisted as the rumour went around."

"Huh."

"Listen, man, I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here to take your mind off it so you can have a clear head tomorrow when you come out for lunch with us and ask her out. "

"Fuck no."

"Dude, its time. Its been seven years since you dated, and before three days ago, it had been months since you two made out."

"I just don't want to mess it up."

"You won't. I won't let you."

He cracked a side smile and caught me out of the corner of his eye.

I turned frozen, thinking. I mean, I now had proof they would get together, maybe its time for me to depart for a while. I give them a month, so she can move in. He began moving towards me, snatching a butter knife along the way.

I walked towards the nearest trap, and made myself comfy in it, happily.

Both of the young men had surprised faces, but the wheelchair bound one was the first to laugh.

"Obviously he ships Puckleberry."

I sure do.

AN: once again, Review!