A/N: Wow, you guys! I'm overwhelmed by the response the first chapter received. Thank you so much. :) This chapter is much longer than the first. I don't think that I'm going to be able to wrap it up in three chapters after all, but I doubt that it would be more than five. We'll just see how it goes. Writing them as adults though, has made me want to write them in high school when they were beginning their relationship. I may do a series of one-shots that documents their beginning up until Puck left town. It really depends on if my muse sticks with me or decides to run away, which she is famous for. Many thanks to Mandy for helping me brainstorm and for putting up with my crazy.

Feedback = Love...let me know what you think! :)


The short walk to his hotel had been made in awkward silence. His attempts to engage her in conversation had been thwarted when she'd held up her hand informing him that his ten minutes had not yet begun. He'd wanted to laugh at the fierce look of determination and annoyance that played over her features when she'd done so, but he figured that would be the dumbass thing to do, and he was trying hard to not be a dumbass these days.

When they reached the hotel, he held the door open for her and he thought he saw the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly at the gesture. She sauntered ahead of him to the bar and he took the opportunity to fully appreciate her looks without fear of repercussion. The way her black dress swished invitingly about her hips, the way her dark chocolate locks shone and bounced around her shoulders leaving a seductive cloud of scent in her wake made his hands itch to touch her and tangle his fingers in that mass of dark waves. The muscles of his jaw tightened as she eased onto an empty barstool, crossing her legs demurely and flashing him an expanse of thigh as the fabric rode up. He could argue that he'd been at sea too long, but he knew better. Out of all the women Noah Puckerman had experienced in his life (and there'd been plenty), the only one that could set his blood to boil in an instant was this stunning brunette before him. It was, he decided, both a blessing and a curse.

He slid onto the stool across from her, rested his elbows on the table. She stood up hastily. "Excuse me for a moment," she said prissily before turning to walk away.

"What do you want to drink, Berry?" he asked gruffly, annoyed that she was being so damned difficult to pin down so they could talk.

She halted and cast a look over her shoulder at him. "Belvedere martini. Dirty," she replied, turned and headed towards the bathroom.

Puck quirked an eyebrow as the heat stirred low in his gut. He was fucking pathetic if all it took to get him hot and bothered was the word dirty passing through Rachel Berry's delectable lips.

Rachel gripped the cold tile of the porcelain sink until her knuckles went white as stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her heart had all but hammered out of her chest on the walk over to the hotel and she needed a moment to compose herself before finally having the conversation she'd wanted to have for the past four years. Glimpses of the girl she'd been—that starry-eyed girl head over heels in love with the last boy she ever thought possible—peered back at her through the mirror. Seeing him tonight had reopened the floodgates on the wounds she'd fought tooth and nail to heal and a part of her wished he'd never come looking for her.

The day after graduation, she pulled her car into the Puckerman's driveway and put it in park. Every nerve ending in her body was practically singing with happiness. High school was over and that meant that she and Noah could finally take the trip she'd spent the last two months begging for permission from her fathers. They still weren't crazy about the idea, but they trusted her and had really come around in regards to her boyfriend. The plan was still Julliard in the fall and she insisted that nothing and no one was going to derail her from reaching her dreams. After an embarrassing lecture from both of her fathers about safe sex (a subject she was already well versed in having dated Noah Puckerman for the better part of two years), they were finally scheduled to leave for their road trip at the end of the week. She wanted to share with him some of the itinerary she'd planned (though not meticulously, he'd made her promise).

Rachel spotted his mother sitting in the swing on the front porch and she smiled and waved. "Hello, Mrs. Puckerman," she said sweetly. "Is Noah here?"

"No, sweetheart, he isn't."

"Oh, that's okay. I can just sit and wait out here if you don't mind." Rachel studied the woman and furrowed her brows when she noticed that she'd been crying. "Mrs. Puckerman, are you all right?"

The woman shook her head. "Sit down, Rachel."

A dreadful feeling crept into the pit of her stomach as she sat beside his mother. "What's the matter?"

"Rachel, honey—Noah's gone."

That awful feeling rose higher and higher. "What do you mean gone? He's not hurt is he? Surely you would've called me if something had happened to him. Where is he?" she asked frantically, her voice flirting with hysteria.

"He wanted me to give this to you," she said, handing Rachel and envelope with her name on it.

Rachel wanted no part of whatever was in that letter. "Dammit, just tell me where he is!"

"He left for the Navy this morning." Rose Puckerman's eyes watered.

Her chest constricted and she couldn't catch her breath. This had to be some sort of sick joke. "The Navy?" Rachel sputtered, perplexed.

"Just read the letter, please. He made me promise to give it to you."

"No!" she yelled, springing to her feet to pace the porch. "He wouldn't do this to me. He'd never leave without telling me. We're supposed to leave for our trip and then we're both going to college in the fall. Noah has never mentioned the Navy before."

"I'm so sorry, Rachel," she said again. "Please, sit down and read this letter."

No longer trusting her legs to keep her upright, she sat down on the front step and stared at her name scrawled on the envelope. She swallowed the lump in her throat and with shaky hands, ripped open the letter.

Dear Rachel,

If you're reading this, then you know that I've left to join the Navy. I know I'm an asshole for not telling you in person, but I knew if I took one look into those amazing doe eyes of yours that I wouldn't be able to leave.

My college plans fell through and this was the only way that I found to get the hell out of this Godforsaken town and make something of myself. Another reason I'm leaving is because of you. God, that sounds horrible. What I mean to say is that I would only drag you down if I stuck around Lima. I know how driven you are, but lately I saw that drive start to wane. I know that's because of me and I couldn't live with myself if you didn't achieve everything you're meant to, Rach.

I want you to go to New York and conquer all of your dreams. Just be you, and people won't be able to help but adore you. I know that one day I'll be watching you perform on Broadway and all of this will have been worth it.

Our relationship was one that I never expected, but these last two years with you have been the best of my life. I will miss the way your face lights up when something good happens and the way your eyes dance when you laugh. I'll miss your dimpled smile and the feel of your lips against mine. I'll miss everything. I know I don't say the words enough, but I love you, Rachel Berry. I think that I always will.

I'm sorry, Dimples.

Love,

Noah

Rachel swiped at the tears then retouched her makeup. When she looked into the mirror again, she no longer saw her former self staring back at her. She took a deep breath and went to rejoin Noah at the table.

She perched herself onto the barstool once more and forced herself to look at the man in front of her. She reached for her drink, took a large sip while he just stared at her. "Ten minutes, Noah," she said.

Puck took a long pull from the beer bottle for an ounce of liquid courage. He scrubbed a hand over his face, cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I left the way I did…leaving you that letter." I just—"

"Didn't have the balls to face me?" Rachel offered.

"I'm trying to explain."

"Then explain," she snapped.

"Dammit, this isn't easy for me, Rachel!" he barked.

"And it was easy for me, was it? To show up at your house, expecting to see you, make plans for our trip only to have your mother hand me a letter?" Her voice was low, her tone cold.

"It wasn't—that's not—dammit! I was trying to do the right thing."

"Ripping my heart out of my chest and annihilating me was the right thing to do? You left town like a coward."

Puck seethed. He was tired of that damn word hounding him. "I'm not a coward, goddammit! Leaving was the hardest fucking decision I ever made. I did it for you."

"How was leaving town—" her voice cracked and she shook her head. She felt the tears rising close to the surface again, replacing the mad with hurt. "What happened with Ohio State?"

"I didn't get the money to play football. They still wanted me, but without the scholarship my mom couldn't afford it." He picked up his beer again, drank deep. The memory of that huge disappointment still stung.

Rachel's face softened and her eyes watered. "Noah, why didn't you just tell me?" She fought the urge to reach out and lay her hand over his.

"I was too embarrassed."

"That's ridiculous," she frowned.

His eyes narrowed, "Well, I can't help how I felt about it, Rachel."

She nodded, understood. "Did you think that I would've judged you or been disappointed in you?"

He shook his head and stared down at the table, absentmindedly played with a coaster. "Not you. Your dads, maybe. Thought that you might one day. I don't know."

"That makes me truly sad that you could think I would ever judge you. Losing that money was out of your control. I would've been disappointed for you, Noah, but never in you." He didn't respond, so she kept going. "What was that nonsense you mentioned about me losing focus?"

"You changed a lot senior year. You didn't make your videos anymore; you were less focused on Glee Club—"

"Noah," she interrupted, growing agitated. "I'd already gotten my acceptance to Julliard and I needed a break. If I recall correctly, you were always trying to get me to take one. I'd never been a normal teenager and I was mostly okay with that. I still did those things, things that you used to tease me for relentlessly I might add, but I just didn't deem it necessary to do them with such intensity. We only had a few months left together and I wanted to enjoy every minute. That way, when I went to school I would be refreshed and ready to focus. God, why didn't you just talk to me? I would've been supportive of you joining the Navy."

"I was so terrified of getting trapped and becoming a Lima Loser. You know how relieved I was after Quinn had a miscarriage—God that still sounds so horrible—I would've done right by her. We would have been miserable together, but I would not have run out on her."

"I know," she whispered.

He polished off the last of his beer, signaled for another. "Being with you, all your talk of going after what you want—you were always so sure that everything was going to work out—it started to rub off on me and for the first time I didn't just hope to get out of Lima, I really believed I would. The scholarship falling through was just the first thread. After that I felt things unraveling."

"How did I not see any of this? How is that even possible?"

Puck scratched his eyebrow, shrugged. "I hid it," he said simply. "I only talked to my mom about it and made her swear not to tell you. We had those military recruiters at school one day. I told you I had to run to my truck before Glee and that I'd meet you in there, but I got the number for the Navy recruiter instead. After talking to him, I knew that it was my ticket out."

"I still don't understand why you wouldn't have come to me about all of this. That hurts almost as much as you leaving without a goodbye."

Her eyes swam with tears and she looked like someone had just kicked her dog. "It seemed like the only way at the time. I'm sorry, Rachel."

Rachel nodded sadly and brushed away the lone tear that had escaped. If only he had talked to her all those years ago. There was no sense in playing that game though, because it couldn't be taken back. What's done was done. So she met his eyes and murmured, "I know you are." Grabbing her drink, she lifted it to her lips and gulped down the rest, shuddering ever so slightly at the trail it warmed on the way down. He was watching her with amusement she noticed as she set her glass down. "What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Puck leaned forward and smirked. "Nothing."

"You're laughing at me," she frowned into her glass.

"No. It's just damn good to see you again." When she looked up again he grinned, happy when her lips twitched into a little smile. Even if she hadn't said the words, he knew he had her forgiveness and that was an enormous load off his chest.

"I never thought I would say this to you, but I think I miss your Mohawk. That's a strange statement. I haven't seen you without it since middle school. Your current look is more suited to an adult though. So—"

"Berry," he cut her off, "is this your way of saying you're glad to see me, too?"

Her lips fell into a pout. She annoyed herself for nattering on and on. "Yes." There was a devilish gleam in his eyes this time when he grinned. It was a look that had, on numerous occasions, made her head swim and her insides warm. Unfortunately for her, it was still effective. She couldn't find the right words to say, so instead she twirled the skewer of olives between her fingers before finally sliding the garnish into her mouth.

Puck's eyes clouded over as he watched her eat the olives. For most women, that would've been a carefully crafted seduction technique to drive a man crazy. Rachel wasn't most women and most likely she just wanted to eat the olives. But damn it all if it didn't stoke the fire within him once more.

That mouth of hers had always driven him crazy—in a lot of different ways—running the gamut from longing for a hearing impairment while she was within earshot to praying she'd never stop slipping those lips up and down his cock.

"You're doing it again," she said, snapping him from his reverie.

"Doing what?" he asked, feeling flushed under the collar.

"Excuse me," an older woman interrupted, giving Puck a reprieve. "I am so sorry to bother you, but aren't you Rachel Berry?" she asked politely.

Rachel smiled and nodded. "Yes."

"I thought so. My girlfriends and I are in town and we saw West Side Story tonight and you were just marvelous, dear. We've been over there looking at the playbill and we looked over and spotted you."

"Thank you so much," she beamed. "That's very kind of you. I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

The woman pulled out the program and a pen. "Would you mind signing this?"

Her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. "Sure." She grabbed the pen and neatly signed her name, drawing a star at the end. "Here you go."

"Thank you again. What a remarkable talent you are. I'll leave you alone with your handsome sailor." The woman smiled and walked away, leaving a blushing Rachel and a smiling Puck in her wake.

"Rachel Berry—signing autographs," he said proudly.

"My first fan! Can you believe that?" she asked, the smile evident in her voice.

"Of course I can. Congratulations, Dimples—you're a star!"

Rachel blushed again, unable to contain the smile that lit up her face. Something fluttered in her stomach when she noticed him smiling back at her. If she didn't get out of there in a hurry, she was going to succumb to the magnetism that was Noah Puckerman. A magnetism that multiplied tenfold while packaged in Navy dress whites. "It's getting late. I'm sure my friends are wondering where I am," she said, pushing her chair back from the table.

Puck's jaw twitched and he held off the frown. He'd asked for ten minutes and she'd given him many more than that. "I'm sure they are." He stood and threw some bills on the table to settle the tab.

They said nothing as they left the bar and walked through the lobby. "I'll get you a cab," he offered.

Rachel stopped and turned toward him. "Oh, no, that's okay. It's a nice night and it's not far. I'll just walk."

"Rachel, it's late," he frowned. The last thing he needed was for something to happen to her.

She smiled over his concern. "I'll have the doorman hail me a cab. Thank you for the drink."

He shrugged it off. "She was right you know."

"Who?" she asked, confused.

"The woman in the bar. You were amazing tonight."

Her jaw dropped. "You were at the show?"

He nodded softly. "Blew me away."

Rachel felt the tears threaten her again. "Thank you," she managed. She watched him reluctantly press the button to call the elevator. "It was good to see you, Noah."

"Good to see you, Rachel," he murmured, getting lost in the warmth of her deep brown eyes.

Rachel stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her cheek into his chest. His arms came around her shoulders and held her close. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, desperate to keep the tears at bay.

He dropped his nose to the top of her head and inhaled the familiar scent of her shampoo and perfume. The elevator doors opened with a ding and his heart constricted in his chest when she pulled away. "I guess this is it," he said finally.

"Take care of yourself, Noah," she whispered.

Puck stepped into the elevator, turned. "Goodbye, Rachel."

No longer trusting her voice, she lifted a hand to wave goodbye and watched him until the doors started to close. His hand slammed against the door, halting it from shutting. Puck stepped out, grabbed her hand and tugged her into the elevator with him. "Noah, what—" she began, but was silenced when he pulled her roughly against his body and crushed his mouth to hers.