Author's Note: Mash-up never happened. Semi- AU, I suppose.
It starts in the simplest ways, as all stories often do.
Puck sees her walking home from Glee, her pink raincoat sticking out like a sore thumb, and he meant to drive by, he didn't mean to stop. He rolls down his car window, and motions for Berry to come in. Surprisingly, she does. The ride is silent, silent like you would expect.
They fall into this pattern the following day. He opens the door for her, she gets in. He drops her off, she says thank you.
On the fifth day, Rachel invites him inside and he politely accepts.
He feels awkward standing in her living room until he sees Rock Band, challenges her to a duel. It's almost as if they're friends, engaging in activities that friends do. They battle it out, their competitive streaks converging, determined to win. She wins, he pouts, she kisses him.
She leans back in shock, surprised at her leap of courage. She opens her mouth to begin a long speech but the words never make it from behind her throat, not when his tongue is circling her teeth.
He'll pull away eventually, prepared to apologize, but he stops when he sees the stars, the stars in his eyes reflecting in hers. He tucks a loose strand behind her ear, and kisses her good-bye.
The next day, he looks all over the school, finding her talking in the music room with the rest of the Glee members.
"Here." He sneaks behind her, an arm snaking across her waist, his mouth kissing her neck. "Grape. Your favorite."
Her grin stuns everyone, even more so, when she brings a hand to his face, standing on her tip toes. The kiss lasts, until the Glee kids start clapping to break it up.
It spreads around the school, and Finn and Quinn learn about it the next day, having missed the scene the day before. Hiding matching looks of jealousy and regret, they go on with their day.
Four weeks later, they're still together.
They're sitting on her couch, fully clothed, Berry on his lap, sitting there with her legs wrapped around him, and he's absentmindedly playing with her hair while her hands are interlocked behind his head. Later on, he'll remember they were arguing about the new version of Rock Band, he doesn't remember what the argument was specifically about. He just remembers Rock Band and the fierceness in her eyes. He likes sitting here with her like this, comfortable enough with their intimacy to let her get close. They haven't had sex yet, it's only been a short time, about a month. She deserves heartfelt declarations of feelings, and flower petals everywhere. He figures it should be perfect, because she needs perfect, or at the very least, the closest thing to perfect. She hasn't brought it up, he hasn't cared about the lack of sex. He prefers being with her clothed than any other girl naked, anyway.
They're sitting there together, the chemistry between the two burning the air, but nothing physical is going on. The argument has stalled, and they've fallen into silence. He stares at her, his eyes focusing in on the birthmark on the side of her face. She stares back at Noah, her eyes zeroing in on the green flecks exploding on his brown eyes.
"I'm the father of Quinn's baby." The words come out quickly, before he had a chance to bite down on his tongue, he would have bitten down to stop these words. He's not sure what made him say it, he wishes he could take it back. He waits for her to move, off his lap and out the door but she doesn't move. Her face is expressionless, he can't read behind her eyes. He's still waiting for her to speak, minutes later. He's still waiting for her to move, to leave him like Quinn did so many nights ago.
She brushes her lips against his forehead, lingering for the briefest of seconds, then pressing her forehead onto his. A quiet understanding passes between the two, she's not going anywhere.
"Okay."
He picks his head up from hers, and his eyes are clouded in surprise.
"Thanks." It's such a simple word but heavy with meaning. He wants to add more to the word, more to make sure she knows how grateful he is that she stays, he wishes he had better words. Noah doesn't know what else to say but he looks at her, and he's glad the message was conveyed.
She gives him a half-smile and he kisses her. It's not the last time he'll see stars.
Two weeks later, after everything happens, he's glad he was the one to break the news first.
He wasn't expecting Finn to know that quickly, that Finn would be astute enough to do background research into pregnancy and methods. He doesn't say anything when Finn punches him the face twice, leaning back to punch him for a third time when Berry comes in. She puts two and two together, and a silent look of comprehension crosses her features. Finn sees the look that passes between them, and throws his hands in the air.
"Really, Rachel? Really?"
"He's your best friend." It's the simplest thing, it should be enough to undo the damage.
"He slept with my girlfriend and got her pregnant. They've been lying about it for weeks."
She nods, unsure of what to say. A month ago, this would have been her chance to take Finn for herself. A month ago, she would have cared less about the ruin Puck and Quinn left in their wake.
"And he told you. He told you when my own girlfriend couldn't tell me." There's a veiled accusation hidden there, accusations the current three leave alone. Puck stares at Finn, Finn who's now staring anywhere but back.
She looks at Noah, fragility evident in his eyes, big enough for her to see. She wraps an arm around his waist, and gently leads him from the room, away from Finn's anger and the Glee clubs disgusted sighs. She leads him home, settling him on the couch, and he never says a word.
"You're here."
Rachel looks at him strangely, sitting him down on her couch. "Where else would I be?"
She sits next to him, his hands shaking. She grabs them, and interlaces his with hers. Later, she'll remember they sat there together through the afternoon, not breathing a word, eventually falling asleep.
They wake up together, surrounded by the light filtering through her curtains, and Rachel Berry takes her first sick day in years.
"Hi."
"Hi." Sleepily, she whispers back into his shirt, slowly moving her head back to see him.
He slouches his body down, low enough until they're proportionately side by side.
"I'm sorry." His hands move across underneath her shirt, floating across her spine.
She presses a hand to his face, fingering the bruises underneath his eyes, growing against his cheekbone. "There's nothing to be sorry for."
He nods and she closes her eyes again, curling under the bank and curling into him, her warmth spreading like a fire. His hands tangle in her hair, and she finds herself blinking back tears.
"Are you going to leave me for Quinn?" She asks suddenly, unsure if she wants to hear the answer. She meant the question to come strong, and secure. She didn't mean it to come out the way it did, frail and hesitant, breaking at the me.
His hands still, and there's a sharp influx of breath. Eventually, he speaks.
"No. Quinn was just a girl. She was a girl I made the mistake of having sex with one night, wine coolers and wrong reasons."
She seems oddly comforted by this. She's lost back in thought that she misses him speak.
"When, or if, we ever have sex, you're not just a girl. There will be no wine coolers, there will be no mistakes. It'll be for every reason, every right reason."
She smiles. "I like you." The feelings feel safe leaving her mouth.
"I like you, too." He smiles. He kisses the inside of her collar bone, his tongue tracing the bone, his face later burrowing into her neck. They stay like this, immobile for a while.
Nobody believes when they're still together in the aftermath.
They walk into the building together, hand in hand, a united force. Rachel stays with Puck, despite his indiscretion with his best friend's girlfriend, but Finn, Finn leaves Quinn. Nobody understands Rachel's forgiveness of Puck, and after a couple of weeks, they stop trying.
Her dads get used to him, they don't see anything about the nights he stays, the nights they leave the door open because nothing is going on. He walks her to class, she keeps him awake during study sessions. His GPA increases by percentage points.
She'll visit the OB/GYN with him, visits with Quinn. They don't become friends, and Rachel doesn't want her friendship. They get along because Quinn is the mother of this baby, and Rachel is Puck's other half.
Quinn gives birth, a beautiful girl, a girl that goes to live in New York with friends of Rachel's dads. Quinn doesn't mind. She knows this is for the best.
Puck stayed for the birth, holding Quinn's hand, dropping a kiss on her forehead when it was done. She looked at him, and apologized into his ear, apologized for their rough beginning. He nods, he understands. He leaves.
Finn doesn't come, he sends flowers and stuffed animals instead. He gets back with Quinn a month later, to the surprise of no one.
Rachel's there. That was enough.
It's been eight months. Eight months and they've covered every base but the one that counts.
The sexual tension is there, it's evident every time they're together in a room.
They have a room at Regionals, the result of switching and switching with every person. Everyone is exploring the town, and fences have been mended, but the two prefer to stay inside, underneath blankets and a mess of pillows.
"You're beautiful." Her eyes glimmer with tears, and she blinks furiously at his compliment. He brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, surprised when she leans up and kisses him. He pulls away to stop her, he isn't using the room, the compliment, to pressure her into sex. He could wait.
She looks away briefly, and kisses him again.
"Mine," she'll whisper in the dark.
There's no more room for talking.
