"I got it, Nana!"
Puck's Nana didn't really seem to want to let him do the thing he was there for, like cooking, cleaning up and answering the door. The doctors all said she needed to rest in order get well, so damn it, he was going to make sure she rested.
Pulling open the door, he froze, thinking he was having some kind of mental breakdown, 'cause there was no way he could actually be seeing what he thought he saw.
"Hello, Noah."
Huh. Maybe this was a belated trip or something. He'd never heard of a little weed causing visual and auditory hallucinations, but that didn't mean it didn't happen.
Shaking his head, he tried to shut the door, but couldn't.
"Noah!" Rachel Berry had placed one of her little hands, the one not clutching a small basket, on the door as she stared at him…Shit, why was she wearing a little red cape? Was this some new kink he didn't know he had? "Noah, stop that!"
Apparently, she was actually there. "What are you doing here?" he blurted, unable to fully process exactly what was going on.
She gave him one of those looks and said, "I baked you some cookies and when I called your mother to inquire as to which juvenile hall you were incarcerated in, she told me I could find you here."
Damn, he'd been certain the juvie story would hold up. Wait. "You baked me cookies?"
"I know it's traditional to bake a nail file into a cake," Rachel said, flipping back the clothe that covered her basket, "But as I'm loathe to break the law myself, I thought icing would have to suffice."
The cookies had little files and motorcycles drawn in icing on top of them. It was…kind of awesome. They were cookies made just for him. "Thanks," he said, then shifted slightly. "Did anyone else find out about, you know, this?"
With a sigh, Rachel said, "No, but honestly, running a car into a 7-11 and stealing an ATM? How is that a plausible cover story? You do some rather ill advised things, but that sounds nothing like something you would do.""Like you could have come up with a better story," he replied, a little offended. Did his cover stories really suck that much and, if so, was that why mom always caught on to what he was doing?
"Considering your social life, I would have gone with a particularly nasty case of Mono as the excuse for why you were missing school," she said with an authoritative nod.
Huh. That was a pretty good cover. With a sigh, he said, "Come on in. Have a cookie. I was just going to make some tea for Nana."
What the fuck was it about Rachel that made him say lame things like that. If anyone ever found out, his rep would take such a hit. Not that he cared. He was too bad ass to care…shit, it was happening again. Being around her made him think about stuff.
"Thank you," Rachel said, stepping into the house and handing him her little traveling cape. "May I say hello to her?"
Oh hell, Nana was gonna love Rachel. He could already picture her and mom plotting together, trying to matchmake. They could get pretty damn intense about the idea of the next generation of little Jewish babies, especially after last year.
Too late to back out. "Nana, a friend of mine brought us cookies…."
