I don't own Glee.

*/*

"She's not that bad," Puck replied, referring to Sam's comment that Rachel was the worst waitress he's ever had. He winced slightly when Rachel stumbled and almost poured a pot of coffee on one of the police officers at the counter. "She's still in training, dude. She'll get better, just give her a chance."

"You do know the only reason I haven't fired her is because she's your girlfriend," Sam sighed and turned to see Rachel, flustered and trying to figure out who got what dish at a booth in the corner. "You're just lucky Brittany doesn't mind putting up with training her. Lauren was about to throw Rachel into a dumpster yesterday."

"Lauren's a bitch," Puck retorted and sipped from his coffee mug. "She doesn't like anyone."

"How's it living with Rachel?" Sam didn't seem to notice his own sudden change in subject.

"I think I unpacked the last of the boxes last week. Rachel has a lot of useless shit. Like, what the hell is a candle warmer? And everything she has is purple. Or yellow. I don't think she even owns a pair of jeans."

Sam shifted in the booth to face Puck better. "You've changed in twelve years."

"What do you mean?"

"The Puck I knew never would have gotten into a serious monogamous relationship, let alone move in with a girl." Sam raised his eyebrows. "She must be pretty special."

Puck shrugged. "Rachel's good. She's different," He looked back over to where the brunette was getting scolded by Lauren again.

"Different from Quinn?" Sam questioned quietly and Puck's gaze snapped over to his blonde friend.

"Don't bring her up," Puck demanded and tightened his grip on his mug. "Rachel doesn't know anything about that. She doesn't need to. That was high school, Sam. I was sixteen."

"You're living with the woman and you haven't told her about Beth?"

Puck's jaw was set and he glanced down to the table, searching for a distraction from this subject. He didn't want to talk about Quinn or Beth, but definitely not Quinn. He hadn't heard that name in almost twelve damn years.

"It doesn't matter. Beth isn't my daughter. She never was," Puck whispered tightly.

"Puck."

"She's not. I'm not an idiot, man. Maybe when I was sixteen I thought I could raise her but I was kid. I was dumb and Quinn was right to give her up. She may be my biological daughter but she's not mine. Fuck man, I only got to hold her once." Puck ran a hand over his face. "She isn't mine."

"Okay," Sam nodded.

"What is your problem?" Someone shouted from the other side of the diner and Puck whipped his head around to see Rachel babbling an apology to some douche in front of her.

*/*

She hated this job. In New York, she had worked part-time in her dad's music studio while she drifted from audition to audition. Now she was wiping tables and dealing with customers who left the worst tips. She could find more money than this in a dirty subway car. It was kind of pathetic but she knew Matt was right and she was just going to have to deal with it.

And she hated this uniform. Apparently, Sam's grandfather had built this diner years ago and the uniforms hadn't changed much since the sixties. It was a pale blue button up dress that stops a few inches above her knees and she got a white apron tied around her waist. She was dealing with the stupid shoes she had to wear but she absolutely refused to wear the little hat so she has her hair pulled up in a ponytail and her bangs were hanging to the side.

She knew Sam was getting frustrated with her because she was constantly writing orders down wrong or dropping the tray. She was trying, though. She doesn't like Sam being annoyed with her but she hated it even more when Lauren, another waitress, yelled at her.

"Order 34 goes to table 8, Berry." Lauren snapped and shoved the tray at her. "Think you can handle that without me holding your hand."

Rachel just forced herself to smile and balanced the tray the best she could until she reached a couple sitting at a small table in the corner. "Roast beef, right?" She questioned as she sat the plate down in front of the man.

She was doing pretty well until she accidentally knocked the glass of tea over and it spill all over the guy's lap. "What is your problem?" He shouted and stood up all in one motion.

"I'm so, so sorry," Rachel reached for some napkins and handed them to the man. "It was an accident. I'm sorry, so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"Are you a fucking idiot?" The man snapped loudly and Rachel was pretty sure everyone in the diner was staring at her now. "Get a damn towel!"

"Is there a problem?" Puck's voice had come from beside Rachel and she glanced over to see both Puck and Sam standing by her side.

"Yea, this bitch just spilled my drink all over my," The man was still trying to dry off his shirt while his date watched the scene play out from her seat.

Puck looked over at Rachel, who was biting her lip nervously while she looked down at the ground and he could tell she was trying not to burst into tears. He tried not to think about how mad that made him.

"Karofsky, you don't need to start calling her names," Sam shook his head.

"Karofsky?" Puck questioned and stepped closer to the man. "These past twelve years weren't too good to you, were they?"

"Fuck off, man," Karofsky glared at Puck.

"Rach, go get a towel from the back," Puck told the woman beside him and waited while she rushed off to do as he said. She was back a few minutes later and Karofsky jerked the towel from her hand. "Now, you," Puck raised his chin and narrowed his eyes at Karofsky. "Apologize."

"For what?" Karofsky snorted. "I'm the one covered in tea."

"It's really not necessary," Rachel whispered from beside Puck.

Puck set his jaw and took a menacing step towards Karofsky. "Apologize for yelling at her, now," He growled and Karofsky swallowed thickly.

*/*

"You picked a cracker box for us to live in," Puck complained as he lay on the couch in the small living room. Rachel was sitting on the floor by his head, watching a movie on TV while she ate some kind of sandwich. "Why'd you like this place anyway?"

She shrugged and turned the volume on the TV down. "I don't know. It's quaint and secluded. Completely different from New York but I like it. Besides, it has two bedrooms so now you won't have to sleep on the couch like you would have at that apartment you expected me to live in."

He chuckled, something Rachel had realized he rarely did, and looked down at the back of her head in the low light of the television. "You miss your family?"

"Wouldn't you?" She retorted quietly. "Of course I do. I love my dads, both of them, and even though my mom wasn't always around when I was a child, I had gotten used to her being in my life. And then almost overnight, they were ripped away from me. I haven't seen or talked to them in almost a year. They missed my birthday. My dads always took me out to this amazing vegan place not far from my apartment on my birthday but not last year. They couldn't even call me to wish me a happy birthday. Wouldn't you miss that?"

"Yea," He whispered and they fell silent again, both turning their attention back to the movie playing in front of them.

Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his fingers slipping into her hair and she wondered if he realized he was even doing it. She didn't move, though, because she kind of liked the way his thumb stroked the side of her neck. It was comforting almost.

So maybe she didn't hate Noah Puckerman as much as she thought. Maybe she didn't hate him at all. She wasn't really sure how she felt right now. Noah wasn't at all like she first thought. He pretended to be hard and uncaring but she had spent the last two weeks living with him and he's nothing like that. He was actually kind of sweet. Last week, when she freaked out because she found a spider crawling up her wall in the bedroom, he scooped it up and carried it outside at eleven o'clock at night, walking it a respectable distance from the house because even though Rachel hated spiders, she didn't want it dead.

And when she burnt her hand trying to make some cookies in the oven yesterday, he pulled out the first aid kit and made her sit on the kitchen counter so he could put some cream on it. Then, he finished her cookies while she sat on the counter and softly sang 'Let it Be.'

So now her eyes are falling closed because the pattern his thumb is making on her skin is making her sleepy. "Noah," She murmured his name and he leaned forward then, moving her hair away from her neck, and pressed a warm kiss right below her ear. "I…" She trailed off when she turned her head and found his lips.

His fingers twisted in her hair, pulling her closer, and she tilted her body so she could be closer still. She's pretty sure she had never felt like this. She's positive it never felt like this with Jesse. Her heart is beating loudly in her ears and her stomach is twisting in ways that make her excited and nervous all at the same time. He pulled her closer until she was practically lying on top of him on the couch and she didn't fight him, just kissed him more. His hands have moved lower, slipping under the material of her tank top, and she arched her back because he felt so good.

But then her head started to clear and she realized just exactly what was going on. He's kissing her, groping her really, and she's pretty sure this is what she wanted but she found herself pulling away from him anyway.

"Noah." She squeezed her eyes shut tight for a minute before meeting his confused gaze. Yea, she's confused, too. "We can't do this. I'm going to go back to New York after this whole mess is sorted out and you're going to go back to whatever it was you were doing before you met me. This is temporary, this whole thing is supposed to be temporary, but I'm getting these feelings… feelings that don't feel temporary." It was kind of awkward since his hands were still under her shirt so she pushed on his chest until she was standing up. "And I know you probably have these feelings, too, but they need to be temporary."

She shut herself up in her bedroom then, and tried to pretend like she hadn't noticed the hurt look in his eyes. His footsteps were heavy outside her door and she held her breath until she was sure he was in his own bedroom. This whole thing was temporary and she tried to think about how different life would be like when she got back to New York. She wondered how her dads were doing and her mom. Were they worried about her? Did they miss her as much as she missed them? But then her thoughts turned toward the man sleeping next door to her and she squeezed her eyes shut because this definitely wasn't temporary.