Puck had been acting strange all week.

First, he'd started spending an extra long time in the shower. More than he usually spent in there to take care of his... urges. Rachel hadn't really minded. At first when he'd started crashing at her apartment, she'd been incredibly grossed out. Regardless, they'd had that argument. Puck was allowed to do that if he wanted to, as long as he chipped in and helped her pay her water bill every now and then.

Second, he'd welcomed her on Saturday night with a salad. Yes, a real, leafy green, delicious and entirely vegan salad. "Oh, thank you, Noah!" She'd exclaimed upon seeing him in the kitchen. She'd reached out for it, believing it to be a present, only to have it cruelly snatched away.

"What are you doing, Berry?" He yelled, looking outraged, "This is my fuckin' salad!"

Rachel was used to Puck's vulgar language. In fact, she really didn't know what she'd do without it. Ever since they'd wound up being friends – as Rachel called them – and bad-ass partners in crime – which was what Puck described their relationship as – she'd heard it almost every day.

So, with that said; the third strange thing that Puck did was-

"Shit!" He exclaimed, carelessly tossing the salad backwards. It hit the window and slid down until it rested in Rachel's kitchen sink. She sighed when she noticed the dressing it had left splattered on her newly cleaned windows. Puck's hand flew to his abdomen. "I – I mean… crap… no! What I meant to say, baby, was poop. Yeah-" He paused and smirked, seeming pleased with himself. "Poop."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. "Noah, who on earth are you referring to as baby?" She demanded. Suddenly, it dawned on her. "Oh, you did not! Tell me you didn't, Noah!"

Puck looked alarmed. His hands flew off of his stomach as he raised them in surprise. "I know, I'm sorry, Rach! I know I shouldn't swear around it."

"Around it?" She bellowed. "I can't believe you! You don't live here, you scoundrel! You don't get to bring your floozies back to my apartment!"

His face flushed in anger. Rachel noticed that, strangely, his hand rested on his stomach once more. "It is not a slut," he hissed. "It's a bad-ass, like me."

Rachel folded her arms over her chest and appraised him. "Why do you keep referring to them as it?"

"Well, I don't know the gender yet-"

"You're sleeping with a transvestite?" She hissed, marching towards him and jabbing a finger into his chest. "You did this just to spite me, didn't you? You probably hired them from one your shady websites!"

Puck ducked out of the way before she could slap him. He looked at her wide-eyed, "What are you talking about?"

Rachel stamped her foot. He flinched as she did so. "Don't you play dumb, Noah Puckerman!" She admonished. Fuck. She sounded more and more like his mother every damn day. "I know you know that you knowingly brought that into my home-"

"There was way too many 'knows' in that sentence," he supplied.

"You are disgusting!" She shrieked. "Get it out! Get it out now!"

Puck seemed at loss for words. As she silently fumed, he stared at her helplessly. "Are you serious, Berry?" He questioned, "I can't just cut it out!"

Rachel paused. "Wait. What are you talking about?" She was suddenly very confused. Hastily, she began checking the far corners of her apartment for Noah's bed buddy. Surprisingly, she didn't see anyone.

But before she could say anything else, he had pushed past her and started marching toward the front door in a rather dramatic manner. She wondered for a moment if he were impersonating her. "Women!" He exclaimed temperamentally, "They don't understand anything!"

"You're insane!" She screamed at him.

She watched him march down her hallway. He heard her cruel comment and responded the only way he knew how to, "Shut the fu- front door!" And with that he, well, shut the front door.

"You already did," She whispered to herself.

Rachel was reading through a script she'd been mailed when she heard him let herself in. She looked up to see him rummaging in her pantry. She hadn't seen him since the week before, when he'd stormed angrily out of her apartment. "What are you doing?" She demanded, standing up from her worn couch and walking into the kitchen, where she found him sitting on her tiled floor in old sweats, eating the batch of cookies she had baked the previous day.

"I tried," he mumbled miserably, "I really did, Rach. It's really hard caring for it but I just couldn't keep eating fu-flipping salad! I had to get me some real food."

There it was. It. "What do you mean by it, Noah?"

He ignored her. "It's real hard not swearing and eating healthy. I dunno how you do it. Props to you, Berry."

"Honestly, Noah," she sighed, exasperated, "What has gotten into you?"

He gestured at his stomach. "An embryo, apparently," he stated sadly. "I used to have a life. Beer pong with the dudes and you know, other extracurricular activities - and by extracurricular activities I mean S.E.X."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "I know what sex is. You don't have to spell it out-"

"Shh," he hushed her, "Don't say the S word. Anyway, it's been hard, Rach. The guys go out and do extracurricular activities and I'm at home every night, watching the six o'clock news and ironing my delicates."

"Y-your delicates?" She questioned. "Noah, are you taking drugs?"

"Only the ones they said to on the internet."

She gasped. "I knew that this would happen one day. Come on, get up, I'm going to take you back to Lima so that you can spend the weekend with your family."

"I don't want them to know yet. After what happened with Quinn and all-"

"Quinn was taking drugs?" Rachel exclaimed, trying to pull him up by his ratty, smelly hoodie. He wouldn't budge, though, so she gave up. He continued to shove cookies into his mouth. "Well, I guess that does explain why she was so nice when she was pregnant."

"It does that to you," Puck remarked with false wisdom, "I even helped a little old lady cross the street yesterday."

This was bad. Very bad. He had obviously deluded himself into thinking that the problem wasn't a problem at all. Rachel thought of calling Kurt and asking him to come and help her – after all, they were the only Gleeks currently living in New York – to move him. Maybe she should take him to the emergency room. There didn't seem to be anything physically wrong with him, aside from the fact that he smelt like he hadn't showered in a few days.

"What do you think I should name it?"

Rachel's eyes widened. "Your drug addiction?"

"No, stu-silly. It."

She groaned and sat down across from him. He ceased stuffing cookies down his throat when he noticed her do so. "What is 'it', Noah?"

He mimicked her and also groaned. "Some friend you are," he said grumpily, standing up and brushing cookie crumbs from his sweat pants. Rachel winced. She was going to have to clean that up later – possibly using gloves, considering his recent intake of illegal substances.

"Noah!" She called after him. "You won't tell me what's wrong!"

But he was already gone.

He returned the next day. He was holding his shirt up and gently poking at his stomach, staring at himself in her full-length mirror. "Am I losing my abs?" He asked absentmindedly.

Rachel eyed him curiously. They'd spoken over the phone last night, and it appeared that Noah was in fact completely sober. He was just in a strange emotional place. She'd tried to ask about it but he'd only gotten angrier, so she'd become wise enough to put up with his strange antics without questioning him.

"No, Noah. I do not think that your abdominal muscles have changed at all."

He frowned and shoved his shirt back down. At least he'd showered, she thought. "You got any chicken?' He practically grunted, shoving past her and leaving her bedroom in favour of the kitchen.

"Of course not," she sighed, frustrated, as she hastened to keep up with him. She'd be damned before he ruined her kitchen again. "I'm a vegan, am I not?"

"Oh," he mumbled, turning and instead heading toward the living room. Rachel swerved to avoid crashing into him. "Xbox?"

"No! I do not waste my time with such silly activities."

He groaned. "Well, what do you have here?"

She looked up at him, puzzled. "Scrabble?" She offered weakly.

He surprised her when he nodded and settled down on her couch. She stared at him, outraged at his laziness, before going to find the sole board game that she owned. When she returned, he was watching one of her aerobics DVDs. He sighed wistfully as he watched the women bending and stretching onscreen. "I don't even get turned on anymore," he whined before flicking the off button. She raised her eyebrows at him as she set the board up on the carpet. He slid off of her couch and joined her on the floor, helping her to get the game ready.

They were halfway through their game when Rachel noticed the recurring theme in Puck's chosen words. Baby, diaper, milk, pregnant. She gasped when it dawned on her. She tried to stifle her giggling as she watched him concentrate. He spelled out the next word – hamburger – and she decided to take action.

"Would you like to go out for dinner, Noah?"

Quietly, he nodded.

They were settled in Puck's favourite corner booth at Burger King when he finally decided to confide in her. "Rach," he began, slapping his burger back onto its wrapping and sending her a serious look. She was terrified – both of his strange news and of the mayonnaise that was lurking at the corner of his mouth. She picked fussily at her fries. "We needa talk."

She nodded. Finally. "Sure. What is it that's bothering you?"

He appeared nervous as he lent forward to whisper in her ear.

"I think I'm pregnant."

Rachel pulled away from him and burst out laughing. A few nearby customers stared at her after her outburst, and Puck practically hid behind a napkin. She finally recovered and stared at him, her face lit up with a smile. "You can't be serious."

He glared at her. "I am. I'm up the duff, Berry. Legit."

"How legit?" She teased, taking a sip of her Coke.

"Too legit to quit," he answered her in all seriousness. His grave expression was all that kept her from laughing again.

"But, Noah, you surely realise that it's impossible for you to get pregnant."

"Tell that to my uterus!" He hissed.

She shook her head. "You're absurd. You don't have a uterus."

His hand rested on his abdomen. "I could. There was a pregnant man once before, right? I'm not the only one of us. I'm sure there's a whole group of mother men."

"Mother men?" She exclaimed. "You make it sound like you're in some kind of cult!"

"You don't needa be so rude about it," he said crossing his arms grumpily. "It's not my fault I was born with women parts inside of me."

Rachel eyed him. He wasn't messing with her, it seemed. He truly did believe, on some level, that he was pregnant. "I promise you that you're not."

"I am with child, Rach. How else can I say it?"

"You do realise that the 'pregnant man' was in fact a woman? He wasn't always a man. He was a transsexual, Noah. I assume that you aren't, unless there's something you haven't told me."

"But what about Lady Gaga?" He argued. "I'm sure she would argue that I'm right! I'm always right!"

"You're not this time," Rachel sighed. She was preparing a mental checklist and ticking off all of the strange things Noah had done. The dieting and his new outlook on swearing, even his new body image issues seemed to make sense. In fact, everything seemed to make sense. Except… "Noah, I know now why you were acting so strange. But tell me, why were you taking extra long showers?"

He went bright red. "Oh. That wasn't to do with the baby."

"Really?" She wondered aloud, enjoying his lack of comfort.

"Yeah. You know that new shampoo you bought last time you went to the hairdressers?"

Her amusement was slowly turning to rage. "Yes…"

"Well, I really like it," he said quickly, "Fruity."

She resisted the urge to throw that smelly, fat-ridden burger right back in his face. "You used my shampoo?" She exclaimed, "That was over a hundred dollars!"

He looked alarmed when she stood up from her chair. "I was providing for two," he explained lamely.

Rachel allowed herself a few more seconds before she sat back down. She hadn't meant to cause a scene. Her friend was just so… so infuriating some times.

"I don't know how you could be so unintelligent as to think that you were actually knocked up," she said a few moments later. "I mean, really, even you couldn't be that dim-witted."

Puck frowned. "You don't get to say that, Rach. I'm smarter than you!"

She only laughed. "Fine. Whatever you say, Noah. Do you still believe that you're pregnant?"

"With all of my huge, bad-ass heart."

"Alright. Well, then let's test that theory of yours."

"Um, Rach?"

Rachel looked up and saw Puck's head poking out from behind the bathroom door. They were back in her apartment, after a rather testing trip to the chemist where Puck had insisted that she buy him glucose jellybeans and a new box of condoms.

"Well, fine. But I'm just saying that you won't have much use for those if you're pregnant," she'd quipped, slamming them down on the counter.

"Still," he'd smirked, "If I'm wrong, like you say I am."

The woman at the counter eyed them both with kind curiosity. She looked about fifty, with grey ringlets and red lipstick that was not at all her colour. "Trying for a baby, are we?" She asked them, scanning the items – including a pregnancy testing kit. "I've got to say, I hope you're lucky this time, sweetheart," she said sweetly, looking at Rachel, who blanched. "Although, you're second purchase of birth control does contrast."

Puck was laughing. Rachel blushed. "I-I… we're not-"

"Thanks, ma'am," Puck smirked before wrapping an arm around the tiny brunette's shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the side of Rachel's temple and she would be damned if she admitted that she sort of liked it. "Rachel's always wanted a baby. She jumps my bones any chance she gets."

The woman looked only slightly horrified as Rachel swiped her credit card. Puck gathered the items and together they walked out of the drug store, where Rachel promptly shoved her off of him once she was sure that the kind old lady couldn't see them anymore. "Very funny," she muttered.

"I thought it was, too."

"Well, it wasn't. I lied."

He followed her and together they flagged down a cab, which he paid for this time, at least.

Snapping back to the present, Rachel stared at the man currently vacating her bathroom. "So, I just… piss on it?" He asked, unsure.

She sighed and nodded. Honestly, she just wanted him to leave already. Kurt was going to be over in half an hour and she didn't want to explain Puck and his problems to her best friend.

Puck shut the bathroom door and she tried not to listen to the sound of him urinating. He had insisted that she remain outside the bathroom door at all times, so that he could immediately tell her how wrong she really was.

Minutes passed, and eventually Rachel heard the sound of footsteps inside the bathroom. She shoved her mobile phone back into her pocket and waited for him to speak.

"What does the plus sign mean again?"

Rachel laughed. "You are hilarious, Noah, now hurry up and get out of there! We both know you're not pregnant."

The bathroom door opened once more, and she stood straight as he came into sight. He looked a little disappointed, really. "Your dream of being the first 'mother man' didn't work out, huh?" She joked softly.

He only grimaced as he held the test out to her. From where she stood, she could see the tiny minus sign stand out like a shining beacon. "I'm not touching it, Noah. Come on, let's go put it in the bin."

Together, they walked toward the kitchen. Puck was moping, and Rachel was walking with a bounce in her step, but they both resumed the same stance when they noticed the flamboyant man sitting on Rachel's couch.

"Rachel," began Kurt, standing up and gesturing wildly with his manicured hands, "You won't believe what I paid for a limited edition Gucci scarf this morning-"

The room fell silent as his gaze settled on what Puck held in his left hand. It's not what it looks like, was echoing about Rachel's head. Puck seemed mortified to be holding such a thing. This is my piss, Hummel! Not hers! Fucking gross, man.

The two of them looked at the man before them. Kurt's mouth began to open and close, making him resemble a goldfish. They were frozen, unable to explain anything just yet.

Suddenly, Kurt's face became radiant. The sound that accompanied that look of joy on the man's face was something Puck had never heard before. It sounded like a dying cat. In his frequency to cover his ears, he dropped the pregnancy test on the ground. Rachel didn't even care. She was busy staring, mouth wide open, at her best friend. Kurt was currently prancing around the living room, his designer boots clicking against her flooring.

"I knew that you two would end up together!" He shrieked. Finally noticing the same expression of shock that both Puck and Rachel wore, he smiled reassuringly at them. "Don't breathe another word. I'll be right back with my dream wedding scrapbook!"

They watched him leave in silence. Puck was the first to recover. Smirking, he looked down at the small brunette at his side, who was looking at the pregnancy test with disgust.

"Yeah, I may not be the pregnant one here," he joked. She glared at him when he placed his hand over her stomach. She couldn't deny the butterflies that she felt there when he touched her. "But there's still a 'mother man' in this apartment."

Rachel glowered up at him. "I am not a man!"

Gently, he started pushing her toward her bedroom. When she didn't protest, he kept going. "Yeah, and I don't have a uterus," he mocked, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Prove it, baby. You bought protection, right?"

"Why? You seemed awfully disappointed that your little bad-ass baby was a figment of your imagination."

"He's not a figment of my imagination," he countered, tangling his hands in her hair as she stared up at him, wide-eyed. "He just won't be around for another year or so, hopefully."

"Oh. And who is going to carry this devil child?" She teased.

"I hear vegans are pretty healthy."

She rolled her eyes. "That isn't even funny."

"I was kidding," he smirked as he shut her bedroom door behind them, "I'm obviously gonna go for that cougar at the drug store."

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this little one shot. I was inspired by a prompt from the drabble meme. It was this one; "Puck: I think I'm pregnant." Thanks for taking some time out to read my work and I sincerely hope that you review!