Author's Note: As much as I love this story, I love you guys more for loving it, too. I think this is the chapter that most represents the prompt given to me (read: Definitely M-rated!), but it's definitely not the end. So, still let me know what you think (I'm begging!), but hang in there because the third and final part is going to be a doozy!

"You gonna let me in or will the only thing I see in New York be this hallway?"

Rachel tore her eyes off his mouth, flashing with anger as she bore her gaze into his hazel orbs. "Maybe you should have thought about that five years ago!"

"Whoa. Calm the fuck down."

Puck lifted his hands in surrender, Rachel's eyes honing in on the familiar calluses. She wasn't derailed by his charm, but she couldn't help but stop and wonder if he still played guitar. Sometimes late at night she'd picture him in a barracks or wherever, thinking of her and playing a song like he'd done a hundred times since she'd known him. Eventually she gave up those fantasies because that's all they were. That wasn't her reality anymore.

"I didn't come here to fight. I … just wanted to see you."

She blinked helplessly, her jaw slacking open as the anger immediately dissipated. His voice had been as genuine as his expression, and Rachel knew he was telling the truth. She'd always been able to read him better than most and even though she wished that weren't true anymore, she saw the concern in his eyes and couldn't ignore it. Slowly, she pushed the door open wider in invitation, moving away from it and him as he started to enter. He walked to the middle of the living room as she moved back to close the door, locking all four locks and then turning around and leaning against the solid wood.

Rachel was bred to be a better hostess, but she couldn't bring herself to give him the proper tour. There wasn't much to the apartment to begin with, the only rooms out of sight being the bathroom, the linen closet, Kurt's room and then hers. She knew better than to invite him in there, as she was already making sure to keep a distance between them in case he had some uncontrollable urge to pick up where they left off. In case she had said urge.

"You live alone?"

"No." She let the implication hang in the air for a moment, satisfied by the twist of pain she saw when he clenched his jaw tightly. "Kurt lives here, too."

"Shoulda known." He gestured to the impeccably decorated area and she just nodded in response. Rachel had developed pretty good taste, but she was fairly certain it was a product of being best friends with Kurt for so long. After awhile, you pick up a few things, which was also why her wardrobe wasn't mocked daily anymore. "Where is he?"

"Out," she answered simply, her eyes drifting over Puck's clothing. Much like her, his wardrobe was very similar to how it had been in high school, just more put together. Rachel still wore short skirts, she just upgraded to sleeker shoes and more flattering shirts. Puck, likewise, kept the fitting T-shirts and dark wash jeans, but he carried himself differently. For example, his posture had improved, showcasing how his attitude had changed from lackadaisical to disciplined. His haircut told her the same thing, the Mohawk gone in exchange for a cleaner buzzcut. "With Blaine and Finn."

She watched him carefully, Finn's name hanging in the air between them like one of those cartoon clouds of smoke. It was thick and suffocating, Puck coughing in response and shuffling his feet anxiously. She noticed his sideways glance at her left hand, and that was the last straw. Rachel shook her head, pushing off of the door and stepping closer to him. One of her hands moved to her hip while the other lifted so she could point her finger at him accusingly.

"I knew it," she spat. "You didn't drive 10 hours just to see me, to see if I was OK."

"It was nine and woulda been closer to eight if I didn't have to stop for gas."

She rolled her eyes, again refusing to lose the upperhand. "You don't care if I'm OK. You care if I'm OK alone or OK with Finn."

"If I cared about that, I wouldn'ta left."

Rachel faltered, her defensive stand wavering entirely. "So why … why did you?"

"Does it matter?" His voice was rough, and it ran over her like sandpaper. "You're happy, right?"

She nodded hesitantly, not allowing herself to consider if she could be happier. Not letting herself remember the months – years – she spent getting to this point. Instead, she thought of only the reasons that statement was true. "I got a lead role in a Broadway musical today."

His expression morphed from his standard hard expression to one so rare that it literally stole her breath. His grin lit up the room and she couldn't even find it within herself to care that he was now the first person outside of the director who'd called her who knew she'd finally reached her goal. Kurt would kill her, but it was worth it. It was worth it to have him smile like that and once again be the cause for it. She liked to think that she might still be the only one who could provoke it.

"That's fuckin' awesome."

She nodded her head bashfully in agreement, tilting her gaze to the left as she evaluated him with a small smile. "I've noticed the military did nothing to improve your language."

"Shit, it's worse now if nothin'." He smirked. "There really isn't a better word than 'fuck' when you're overtakin' a ship in international waters."

Her eyes fell, back to staring sadly at the floor. "Well, I'm glad you're safe."

The fact that he hadn't taken the time to assure her of that fact up until just then was ignored. It wouldn't have changed the fact that he never called or wrote, nor would it have changed the fact that she never had either. After all, even though he severed ties with everyone she was close to, Rachel knew better than to assume his mother never had his contact information. But she never asked for it. She figured if he wanted to talk or see her again he would make it happen, and he never did. He left, and he didn't look back.

Until now.

"Yep. Safe and hungry. So let's go celebrate your fuckin' celebrity status and grab some foodage." She made no effort to move, and he must have sensed her reluctance. "Come on, Berry. I didn't stop for lunch and I'm seriously starvin'. I won't keep you out past your bedtime. Fuck, we don't even have to go far; I passed like seven places to eat just from where I parked."

"Where did you park?" She asked slowly, not letting the image of his old truck and all the time they'd spent in it that summer settle in her mind. She didn't want to think about the radio wars they had or the jokes about her almost being violated by the gearshift during one particularly escalated makeout session. She didn't want to remember how it felt to lie in the bed of the truck and stare up at the stars or the way the air felt rushing through her hair when they drove aimlessly with the windows down in search for a location away from prying eyes.

"Some lot across the street."

She couldn't help it, she laughed. "Yea, it's not there anymore."

"What the fuck?"

"It's a private lot, Noah!" She combated his immediate frustration with logic. "There's a sign on basically every flat surface in and near it that says you can't park there without a tag. Perhaps you should have used some of that military training of yours and followed the rules."

"I didn't learn how to follow rules. I learned how to not get caught breakin' 'em." He grinned mischievously and it was like going back in time. She saw the eighteen-year-old boy she fell in love with and all his potential. She saw the eighteen-year-old girl who had figured out who she was and where she wanted to go, and had done it all with that boy by her side. "But, whatever. I'm buyin'. And pick somewhere close 'cause apparently we're walkin'."

She considered declining his invitation – if she'd even call it that – but instead figured it was better for them to get out of the apartment. If saying Finn's name made him uneasy, then she'd definitely want the security of many people's watchful eyes for when she explained to him the severity of the situation. Plus, she too had skipped lunch and had no more dinner plans thanks to his arrival, so she was a bit famished herself. She grabbed her purse and gestured to the door, digging out her keys and cell phone as he unlocked all the locks. She locked the apartment back up and then placed her keys inside the purse, letting him go down the stairs of the building first as she trailed behind. She managed to walk toward a restaurant and text Finn and Kurt all at the same time, eventually noticing his stare and turning her head to the left to silently question him about it.

"Sorry." He shrugged, moving his eyes off her and back in front of them for only a few seconds before he was staring at her again. "It's been awhile."

She bobbed her head, ignoring the awe in his voice and instead pointing to a restaurant in question. He didn't seem to care, about her unsubtle segue or the restaurant choice, so they put his name down for a table and then waited inside. They didn't talk for the entire fifteen minutes, Rachel spending much of the time texting back and forth with Finn for a minute or so and then Kurt for the rest of wait. By the time they got to their table and they each ordered a drink, she felt his eyes on her again and looked up at him in exasperation.

"What now?"

"I thought you were never going to drink again?" He asked comically, Rachel's eyes shutting tight as yet another flashback coursed through her mind before she could even stop it.

Rachel meandered out of the large house and took the stone path to wherever it led. She passed a few classmates who had apparently celebrated their graduation a little too hard as they were already passed out. Considering the ink stains doodled on their faces and the amount of silly string covering their frames, she figured they'd been like that for awhile and she suddenly wondered what time it was. Sometime between arriving at the party and the dramatic reunion of Sam and Quinn, the clock had faded in the background of importance.

"So this is where you ended up," she opened lightly, seeing his silhouette propped up by the large tree in the far corner of the property. She reached his side after a few more steps, her eyes lifting up to take in the same view he had been before she interrupted. The moon was nearly full and looked so big and bright that she wanted to climb the tree to see if she could reach out and grab it.

"Want some?" He tilted his bottle of beer toward her and she scrunched her nose. "Come on, B. The alcohol ban was lifted the second we won that trophy. 'Sides, it's celebratory."

"I said I was never drinking again after Brittany puked on me last year, and I meant it." He chuckled even as she shuddered at the memory, tossing his arm over her shoulders and bringing her closer. Nestled against his side, her head pressed into shoulder, she sighed contently. "I can't believe that was only last year. Feels like a lot longer."

"I dunno. I still can't forget that ugly ass green thing you were wearin' at your epic fail of a party. What the fuck was that anyway?"

"It was a dress, Noah. A perfectly acceptable party dress when the theme is not teenage debauchery." She rolled her eyes, but her heart fluttered a little that he remembered what she'd been wearing. "What exactly would you have had me wear, hmmm?"

He smirked, dipping his head down and speaking lower than usual. "Absolutely nothin'."

Her cheeks flushed and she was suddenly thankful for the cloak of darkness. Although, considering she could feel the heat radiating off his body she imagined he could feel the warmth being emitted from her cheeks. He was so close, and all she could do was try to ignore the way his breath wisped across her neck and the feather light touch of his fingers on the bare skin of her arm. And, just like she'd been trying to all year, she also ignored the feelings it elicited.

"If it didn't work at prom, it's certainly not going to work here, Noah."

"Can't blame a guy for tryin'." He pulled back just enough that she was comfortable taking a breath again. "Even if that guy isn't Finn."

"What does Finn have to do with anything?" She asked angrily, huffing out a breath and putting a few more inches of space between them. She'd long decided there was no point in wondering how they could go from pleasant conversation to fighting so quickly. It was simply their personalities. "I haven't been with him for a year and a half."

"Yea, well, you haven't been with anyone else, either."

"Perhaps I'm waiting for someone who is interested in more than one thing."

"Fuck, B. If I just wanted sex from you I would have gotten it by now." She nearly growled at his audacity. "Sophomore year, the week you found out about Santana and Finn, prom … but I didn't, OK? I care about you a little more than that, shit."

"You … you care about me?" Unconsciously, she stepped back to where she'd been before, the hands that had been wringing in front of her pressing against the top of his abdomen and chest as she leaned against him and looked up into his eyes. They were half-closed and obstructed by his furrowed brows, but she could still see the pure absence of color she'd grown so familiar with over the years and for the first time she saw something she'd never seen before. It surprised her and excited her just the same. "Do you … love me?"

He turned his head just an inch or so, but considering the lack of space between them, his nose brushed against hers. She faintly recalled how admirably he'd fought to prevent her from getting a nose job, and she'd never been happier that she hadn't gone through with the surgery than at that moment. Why would she want to look like Quinn when she looked like Rachel? Rachel, who was seconds away from sharing the most perfect kiss she'd ever experienced.

"Yea," he whispered before closing the final distance between them, his lips slanting over hers ever so softly. His arm fell from her shoulders and circled tighter around her waist, pulling her flush against him as the kiss turned from tender to passionate. Their mouths opened, each of them pulling in a bit of air and pushing out their tongues, groaning when they slid together in an intimate dance. Passionate turned to feverish, and then a minute or so later Rachel finally found it within herself to pull away enough to look at him again, really look.

His breath was ragged and his eyes were far less pure than they'd been before. His grip on the back of her shirt was desperate, and she swore she could feel his heart thundering under her hand where it was still pressed against his chest. He licked his lips and she mimicked the motion, feeling so connected to him at that moment that she wondered how she'd ignored it for so long.

"Me too."

"Rachel?"

She shook her head, shaking herself back to the present and yet still staying so firmly in the past when she focused on his hazel eyes. The restaurant was dimly lit, a candle in the middle of the table setting a mood that Rachel didn't think was appropriate but welcomed nonetheless. In this light - not exactly moonlight but a close second - she could see the subtle lines of his face, the muscles of his arms, the broadness of his chest. She could accept the fact that the Marines had done him good and ignore how terribly wrong it was for her to even think such a thing.

"I said maybe if you weren't doin' anything afterward, you could show me around a bit. The only other time I've been to New York was back in high school."

She lifted her eyebrows up, the corners of her mouth turning up when she considered his words in light of her memories. "You don't honestly expect for me to fall for that, do you?" He started to grin, leaning forward much like her. "Maybe that worked with the locals when it was paired with the fancy uniform, but you aren't fooling anyone here, Mr. Puckerman."

Rachel meant what she said, but like so often when it came to him, she'd eventually changed her mind. Or, rather, he'd changed it for her. He'd played to her hosting obligations and before she knew it they were walking down the busy streets of New York. And, despite her original reluctance, she didn't stop talking for almost a full hour, pointing out every random thing she could like an official tour guide until they had circled back around to her apartment. Somewhere between the second and third lock, he snorted loud enough that she stopped to look back at him.

"You're going to need a nicer place once you become famous."

Rachel rolled her eyes and undid the last lock in an effort to disguise the excitement she still felt course through her at his words. "It isn't so bad. We have a lot of memories here. Plus," she bit her lip, looking up at the ceiling long enough that Puck cocked his head up too in confusion. She bumped his side with her hip, opened the door long enough to throw her purse inside, and then headed back to the stairwell all the way to the roof with him following closely behind. "This was a definite selling feature. It's one of my most favorite spots."

He was quiet for awhile, just staring out toward the cityscape. The city lights were bright and made up for the dark skies and darker clouds moving overhead. "I'm sure you can get a better view for the right price."

"Actually," she began, knowing she meant to bring it up when they weren't alone but not able to stop herself. For better or for worse, he'd always been easy to talk to and she'd never lied to him. "Finn and I are going to move to Brooklyn." She looked away from his shocked expression. "It's closer to his school and the neighborhood is much more ideal for raising a family, plus our money would go further outside of the city so we could get a bigger place that had plenty of space for a music room or even ..."

"I see you still ramble when you're lying."

"I'm not lying!"

"Not about movin', but about being happy about it." She glared at him. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised, though. You've always bent over backward to accommodate him. In all ways now, huh?"

"As if it is any of your business, Finn and I are waiting until we get married." She left out the fact that it wasn't his idea, and the several times they've re-discussed it since first making the decision. At first Finn was OK with going slow. She didn't want to rush into anything and he was just happy she'd finally come around. After they got engaged, though, he seemed to want more. Expect more.

"When's the wedding?"

Her jaw was still set even as she turned to face him. It wasn't like she had to think about when her and Finn had decided to get married, but she did have to push down the minuscule amount of bile that always seemed to come up when she remembered the date. She'd only agreed to the Fourth of July because Finn had been so eager about how cool it would be to get married while fireworks were blasting off all around them. However, no matter how much time had passed or how far they'd both come since then, whenever Rachel thought of fireworks, she either thought about Finn and Quinn kissing, or her and Noah kissing. Neither was particularly comforting when it came to the day she would start her life with Finn.

"Next year," she finally answered, her eyes wandering up to the sky when a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. It hadn't rained for at least a week and the city could use the rinse. Plus, it might help with the heat that had overtaken the small island. She wouldn't even consider the irony in the knowledge that a storm was coming.

"So you're sayin' I still got time."

Her eyes narrowed, her head vehemently shaking from the left and right. "No. Absolutely not." Another wave of thunder rolled over them and then another. "You had your chance."

With little warning, it began to rain so forcefully that the drops almost hurt as they pelted her skin. There was so much coming down so quickly that it actually veiled her view of him, breaking whatever spell she might have been under that prevented her from moving in the first place. Sloshing away from the building's edge, Rachel's feet stopped on a stomp with her hand firmly gripping the door handle. She clenched it tightly but couldn't bring herself to swing it open. Whether it was heavy or her thoughts were, she turned and pushed some hair away from where it had matted to her face.

"Why now? Why?" Her voice was raised out of passion and necessity as the large drops of water battered the pair, not just soaking their clothes but drowning out her words. Lightning crackled behind him followed by another boom of thunder. "All you had to do was call. Or write! That's it!"

Puck covered the same area that she had earlier in three long strides. He cut through the falling rain like a knife into butter, the stray droplets careening off his slick skin he moved so quickly. She inhaled sharply when he didn't stop until he was directly in front of her, his eyes boring into hers. She refused to wipe her brow even as the rain dripped down her face, refused to appear to be the one to back down.

"I waited for you for four years, and now it's too late!"

"It's never too late."

Before she could get the first syllable of her rebuttal out of her opening mouth, he covered it with his own, crashing his lips against hers. His hand tangled into the soaked strands of her long hair, resting on the back of her neck and holding her to him. He kissed her hungrily and instead of pushing him away, Rachel lifted her arms and encircled his neck, effectively bringing him closer. Each groaned into the contact, Puck securing his other arm across her back and lifting her up off the ground.

Rachel instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, thrusting her tongue deeper into his mouth as her hands moved across the back of his head. She felt him open the large metal door and stumble inside, continuing her passionate assault until her back hit the wall of the elevator. She moved her head out of his vision so he could press the correct button for her floor, dropping kisses all over his neck and throat. She dragged her lips up until she reached his ear, flicking her tongue against the sensitive skin underneath before drawing the lobe between her teeth. He groaned and rocked his hips into her in response, eliciting a low groan from her as well that was overshadowed only by the loud dinging of the elevator when it reached her floor.

He whirled them around and walked expertly across the hall still with her in his arms, still with his lips suctioned to her neck. Her back hit another hard, flat surface and she used the leverage to roll her hips into his. He grunted into the contact and the couple nearly fell into the apartment when he carelessly turned the doorknob and the door flew open. He recovered quickly, though, managing to kick the door shut and follow Rachel's silent directions to her room. They passed through the open door and again her back pressed against the hard wood as he used their weight to shut it closed.

Rachel unlinked her legs from around him and set her feet unsteadily on the floor. His hands immediately went to the hem of her shirt and lifted it up and over. Rachel didn't give him time to admire the newly exposed skin, expertly unfastening his jeans and yanking the wet denim down his legs almost before he could get his wallet out of the back pocket. She took off his shirt on her way up, and in a flash she was in his arms again. She sighed dreamily when her back finally hit the soft surface of her bed, her eyes only opening when she felt him pull away. She watched him carefully, her bottom lip moving between her two rows of teeth as he finished undressing the two of them and rolled a condom over his length.

He kissed his way back up her body, hitting the sensitive spot behind her knee but bypassing her most sensitive area to instead plant kisses on her stomach and chest and then her lips once again. Her hands instantly lifted back up to touch his body, exploring the contours of his back before snaking down and running over his broad chest and taunt abdomen. Eventually they meandered lower, and his head slacked down to her shoulder as a low, gurgling sound escaped from deep within his chest. He nipped at the skin of her shoulder and then attacked her neck, probing her pulse point with his tongue until she whimpered in desire.

She spread her legs wider to accommodate him better and gasped at the first thrust. He remained still for what felt like an eternity, and eventually her nails loosened against his skin as the initial pain was replaced by a different kind of ache. She circled her hips in an effort to alleviate the pressure, calling out when he rolled into her. Each of her arms hooked under his, her hands resting flat against his shoulder blades as he pumped into her. She wasn't sure how he managed to seem so gentle and careful and so inhibited and dominant in the same breath, but it left her lightheaded and panting for more.

Rachel arched her back and then gasped when the new position stirred entirely different feelings, repeating the action and crying out in ecstasy when Puck used the angle to wrap his lips around the nipple of her left breast. Her nails dug into his skin again but he just continued to torture her, moving to her other breast and bathing it with an equal amount of attention. His hands moved slowly across her skin, wrapping around her hips for a few powerful strokes before continuing on their trail. They ended somewhere between her lower back and the curve of her ass, effortlessly lifting her torso up off the bed until he was sitting on the bed and she was settled on top of him.

Again, the change in position added to the experience in surprising but amazing ways. He felt deeper this way, as if he were a part of her. She also appreciated the intimacy that came along with the position, the kissing momentarily nonexistent as they both struggled to catch their breath. Instead, through hooded eyes that were still entirely focused on one another, Rachel took the cue from his gentle movements on how exactly to move her body to bring them both enough pleasure. The friction she created intensified and she found her hips rocking more forcefully just to quench the insatiable thirst she had for release.

Puck must have felt the same way, urgently pushing her back into the bed with little regard. Rachel's eyes were closed tight as she felt the first twinge of relief start to wash over her, her toes curling when the usual orgasm she experienced exploded tenfold. His name fell off her lips over and over again, each instance growing higher and higher in pitch until her voice couldn't even be heard anymore. He moved one of his arms away from where they had been bracing his body up and hooked it under her leg, lifting it up so he could sink even deeper, pounding into her for one more tantalizing minute before he growled low in his throat and collapsed onto her tiny frame.

"Yea," he panted, running his nose over the muscle that connected her shoulder and neck and placing a delicate kiss on the skin before rolling them over so she was instead more on top of him than he was on top of her.

Rachel could barely see straight and her brain was muddled at best, but she knew what he meant and she couldn't help but smile. "Me too."