Saturday morning comes and Rachel decides that 10:00 is far later than Noah really needs to sleep, even if he was up until nearly 2:00 (she heard him come upstairs) watching movies and sipping beer. She doesn't care what he does, and she's more than capable of caring for Violet on her own, but she has plans for today and, surprisingly, they involve him.
So she walks into his room after knocking gently and getting no answer. Violet is in Rachel's arms and lights up when she sees Noah laying in his bed. Rachel can't decide if it's strange that he seems to wear shirts only half the time, or if she wants to have a bonfire and torch his shirts so he can't wear them the other half.
He's attractive, alright? She's never denied it. Sleeping, he almost looks innocent, which she could laugh at if she thought about it too hard.
She sits down at the edge of the bed, and she's more than just a little shocked at how warm she feels. Her cheeks are hot. It's very strange. Noah doesn't stir. She sets Violet down on the bed and the girl starts to crawl towards him, eventually pushing herself up so she's half standing with her hands braced on his chest. Rachel can't help but laugh, and Noah blinks his eyes open slowly.
He chuckles a little, bringing his hand up to rest on Violet's back, and he leans up, kisses her cheek before laying back down. "Hey," he mumbles sleepily. "Time 's'it?"
"After 10:00," Rachel answers. He grunts in response, eyes still closed. Rachel leans back a little bit, braces her arm behind her, and it brushes up against Noah's leg. She moves it, but she thinks she sees a hint of a smile on his lips before she looks away. Maybe she's making it up, though she can't even figure out why she would. "I wasn't going to wake you, but I was thinking we could all go to the park together."
This one is definitely a smile. "Yeah?" he asks, opening his eyes again. Violet sits down and smacks him on the chest. He laughs and grabs onto her hand. "God, this kid is violent." Rachel laughs and shakes her head. "She sacked me the other day, I swear."
"I'm sure it was on purpose," Rachel giggles. He raises his brow. "Would you like to come with us?"
"Yeah, yeah," he insists, sitting up a little, leaning on one elbow. "Coffee downstairs?"
Rachel smiles and stands, leans over to pick up the baby. "I'll make another pot."
She tells herself the wink he sends her is just a thank you and nothing more.
She takes Violet downstairs and realizes she's become a pro at putting the coffee maker on one-handed. Really, she's perfected the art. Even this morning when Mrs. Fabray calls to check in and chat, Rachel balances the baby, the phone, and still manages to get the coffee maker turned in.
Is it strange that she thinks this is a more impressive accomplishment than winning some woman a home in a divorce trial?
When Noah jogs down the stairs in jeans and a white tee shirt, Rachel hands him a travel mug of coffee and a piece of toast with peanut butter (she's never seen a man love peanut butter so much in all her life) and he smiles at her, mumbles a thanks with his mouth full.
Once they're walking through their neighbourhood, Violet in Noah's arms (no matter how much he'd probably deny it, that little girl has him completely wrapped around her little finger), Rachel brings up something Mrs. Fabray reminded her of this morning.
"What do you think we should do for her birthday?"
"Dunno," he says. He takes a sip of his coffee and looks over at her. "She's one. You think she even realizes?"
"Well, it's not like she'll remember it," Rachel admits. "But...I'm just thinking of the future. She'll know this was the year..." She sighs and glances at him, squinting against the sunlight. "It would be nice to have good memories. For all of us."
"Selfish," he teases, nudging her with his elbow. She rolls her eyes. "Naw, that's a good idea."
"So we should have a party," Rachel insists.
Puck stops walking, and Rachel turns around. The skirt of the cotton dress she's wearing twirls around her thighs. "A party? That sounds...lame."
"No it doesn't! It would be great. Her grandparents could be there, and her aunt and uncle and cousins. It would just be...I want to have pictures."
He sighs, but he has to admit it's really not a bad idea at all. Yeah, it'd basically be the most depressing one year old's birthday ever, but he's pretty sure Rachel would kick anyone out who referred to the fact that Vi won't even know her parents.
"Can we have beer?" he asks hopefully. He hopes she knows that means he's on board. Rachel laughs and nods. "And we're grilling. Casual. I don't want all that Fabray stuffy shit up in this party."
Rachel glares at him for swearing, but whatever. He gets that all the time, and he really, really does try not to curse in front of Violet, especially because she's making all sorts of sounds now and is probably really close to coming out with some words. He wouldn't be too thrilled if they were swears. Actually, that'd be awesome, but he's so not letting it happen.
"And the Fabray's aren't stuffy," Rachel says as they start walking again.
He laughs heartily and tosses his empty travel mug into the bottom of the stroller. "Babe, they totally are."
She gives him this sexy look from the corner of her eye and he wonders if it's because he called her babe. Weird. It's been a while since he did that. Or maybe not. It kind of just slips out sometimes. She doesn't usually mention it anymore like she did in the beginning. Either she doesn't care, or she just knows he's not going to stop.
When they get to the park, Puck goes about his regular routine. He dumps their shit by the big oak tree that always has the best shade, and carries Vi towards the swings. Girl loves the freaking swings. Rachel tells him in no uncertain terms that she wants to push, so he holds up his hands and stands back, and they talk more about who to invite to this party as Violet smiles in the little swing.
Rachel notices, as Noah stands there with a hand on his hip and the other bracing him against the metal bar of the swing set, that the women at the park are most definitely watching him. And talking. And glaring at her. He catches one of their eyes at one point, offers a nod and a little smile.
"I'm starting to understand why you enjoy the park so much," Rachel says out of nowhere.
He actually looks over his shoulder at the three women sitting on the park bench watching their kids play on the jungle gym. "What?" he asks innocently.
Rachel laughs. "Nice try. You're their eye candy."
He smirks again and raises his brow. "I'm a lot of peoples' eye candy."
Rachel rolls her eyes and lifts Violet out of the swing so they can go sit on the grass. He watches the way she shakes her head, the little glint in her eye and wonders what it means.
"They probably think I'm your wife," she tells him, and he laughs again.
She doesn't know what's so funny about that.
"Betcha over half of 'em would try to bang me anyway," he says, a cocky grin spreading across his lips.
Rachel makes a face and sits down, legs stretched out in front of her on the grass. "That's disturbing. Aren't they all married as well?" He shrugs. He doesn't care. Not like he's actually gonna do it. Although he can't say he hates the idea of getting laid, like, ASAFP. "You should find a different park."
He laughs again, leans back against his elbows as Violet plays around on the little blanket Rachel brought. "'S'gonna be the same anywhere. Look at me."
She does.
"You seem to have a very high opinion of yourself," she mutters. He shrugs one shoulder, tips his head back. "Though I suppose if I were a housewife whose only joy came from watching the young father at the park..."
"I'm not a father," he scoffs. She smiles at him, tilts her head. "What?"
"You practically are," she tells him. She reaches out to hold Violet's hands as the girl stands up.
That shit is heavy. He doesn't really think of it like that. He's just Violet's...He's her...He's the guy who takes care of her. She has a father. He doesn't want to replace Finn in any way other than he already has.
"Anyway," she says, breaking him from his thoughts. "I can't really blame them for looking."
"Hell no, you can't."
"Stop smirking like that," Rachel laughs. "I mean because you're a young man, and you're clearly...You aren't unattractive." He grins again. He'd so love to call her out on that description. Not unattractive? Come on. "It's an interesting double standard, really. If men saw me with Violet, they probably wouldn't be attracted to me."
He sits up a little and looks at her like she's nuts. Clearly, the woman has no clue how people look at her.
"Yeah they would," he says easily. He doesn't look at her, because he's sure he's not ready to see whatever expression is on her face.
She's on her knees now, with Violet 'walking' (still holding Rachel's hands) towards him. "I don't believe that for a second."
He looks at her, takes in the subtle, sexy curve of her waist, the deep v of her neckline and the tone of her skin. He notes the colour of her lips, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles down at Violet. They're all the things he liked about her in the first place (well, to put it broadly, how fucking sexy she is), but he's pretty sure her looks just barely scratch the surface of the things he likes about her now. She's really not all that bad.
"You should," he says simply, taking Violet's hands when she's close to him.
Rachel blushes, stands up and brushes a hand against the back of her dress to get the grass off. "Is that a compliment?" she asks when she notices him looking at her. He's still holding Violet up and he shrugs his shoulder. She laughs again. "I'll take that as a yes, though I do enjoy it when you actually use your words."
He rolls his eyes and lets go of the one hand of Violet's he was holding and runs it over his head.
He doesn't really understand why Rachel starts freaking out and squealing an drops to her knees on the grass again. He's seriously two seconds from asking her what the fuck drugs she's taking that kicked in like a switch like that. But then he realizes she's staring at Violet with her eyes all wide.
"She's walking!" she cries, looking over Violet's head at Puck. "She's walking, Noah!"
She is, too. Well, she's kind of toddling along on the balls of her feet and swaying like a drunk guy at a bachelor party or something, but she's doing it on her own and that's pretty exciting. She ends up in Rachel's arms, all pulled up against Rachel's chest. He laughs when Rachel kisses Violet's face all over and talks a mile a minute. Then she sets Violet back on her feet and turns her so she's facing Puck, and he smiles (he's really fucking proud, okay?) as Vi wobbles towards him. She could make it about three steps before, until she fell on her ass and started crying. This time, she makes it all the way over to him, and he grabs onto her, picks her up and kisses her cheek.
"She's a champ," he says, looking at Rachel. She's got her hands clasped and tucked under her chin, her phone on the blanket, dropped there after she took a couple pictures.
Rachel thinks she might cry. Violet is just so perfect, so amazing, and she's been waiting for this day. She was really hoping she'd be around for it, too. Noah's progress reports when she comes home from work are always good, but her heart would twist every time he mentioned Violet getting closer to walking. Selfishly, she wanted to be around for it.
She crawls across the blanket, knowing she must look completely ridiculous but not caring in the slightest. She stops right in front of Noah, their knees touching as they both kneel with Violet between them. Rachel wraps her arms around him, and it takes him a moment, but his free arm comes around her and lands on her back where her dress has left the skin bare. Her lips are touching his ear, and she knows that if she moves it'll just call attention to that fact, so she stays put for a moment, just hugs him before pulling away.
When she sits back on her legs and catches sight of those women again from the corner of her eye, she smiles and puts her hand on his knee.
"They definitely think I'm your wife," she tells him.
He rolls his eyes and glances over, and yeah, they look totally disappointed or something.
"Whatever," he mumbles.
Rachel doesn't know what that means, really, but it's better than him insisting there's no way on earth he'd ever be married to her. He asks her if she wants to go, and she shakes her head, sits down and tucks her legs to her side.
"Let's stay here for a while," she says. He smiles and nods, sets Violet down again and they all seem to be laughing as Violet makes laps around the blanket.
... ... ...
Rachel comes down the stairs one night after putting Violet to bed, and Puck hands over a bottle of beer he opened for her. He doesn't see her drink all that much, but she told him earlier she was craving a beer. He remembers stuff sometimes. She tucks her legs beneath her on the sofa and listens to the cop drama he's watching for a moment.
"Do you think it's strange she isn't talking more?" she asks.
"Dunno," he shrugs. Doesn't this woman know not to talk during a high speed car chase? Jesus. "Maybe."
"I know she was saying mama and dada before. She's making sounds, but she's not saying words. I'm thinking of calling a specialist."
He turns off the television, because she's ruining the show anyway and he already knows the bad guy gets caught (c'mon, when doesn't the bad guy get caught?). He turns to Rachel and vaguely notes that she looks good with a beer bottle sitting on her knee. It's been hot out, so she's wearing these criminally tiny shorts and a plain white tee shirt. It's not a bad look on her. (He's waiting to find one of those, actually.)
"Really?" he asks. "You think that's necessary? She's a baby."
"I know that, but I don't want her to be behind. And I wonder what it means that she's not asking for her mother and father."
"Means she's a baby and she doesn't know what the hell's going on half the time," he answers. He laughs a little, but Rachel doesn't look amused. "She still tries to put her toes in her mouth, Rach. She's not exactly a genius."
"Noah!" she cries, swatting his arm. "You don't know that."
"Just give her a little more time before you start callin' people, alright? She'll be fine. I'll get her talking."
Rachel looks at him doubtfully. "And just how do you propose you're going to do that?" she asks.
"Quit doubting me, woman," he mumbles, turning back to the television and switching it on again. "Now shut it. Hotch's about to take this fucker down."
He's got no fucking clue how to get this kid talking, but he can't get out of it now. He'll just have to consult the book on raising kids in this kind of situation. And no, Rachel doesn't know he has that. He'd like it to stay that way, too.
... ... ...
Rachel has had the worst day in a while, and it surprises her that all she wants to do is get home and spend time with Violet and Noah. It's interesting, the way he's become a part of her day. She looks forward to the half hour or so in the morning when they sit in the kitchen and talk. She likes coming home and knowing he's there with the baby. She really loves the way Violet lights up when she sees Rachel. And sometimes, when Rachel ventures a glance in Noah's direction, she'll see him smiling over that, too.
When she pulls onto their street, though, she sees an unfamiliar silver sedan parked in front of the house, and she tries to remember what kind of car Finn's mother drives. She realizes it's blue, so this can't be Mrs. Hummel.
When she pushes open the front door and hears a feminine laugh coming from the kitchen, the rage comes quickly and unexpectedly.
She doesn't expect Noah to be celibate. She does expect him, especially since he'd promised her, not to bring his women to the house and around Violet.
She doesn't bother kicking off her heels before she walks straight to the kitchen with half a mind to take Violet and just leave the house. She's sure the Fabray's would be happy to have them for a night.
She's inside the doorway to the kitchen when she sees a middle-aged woman stirring something at the stove while Noah stands next to her and Violet toddles around on the floor near his feet.
"Hey," he says, jutting his chin towards her, a smile on his face.
"Hi," she says. She'd still like to know who this woman is that's staring at her.
"This is her?" the woman asks, looking to Noah. "Skinny."
Rachel reels back a little, surprised, before regaining her composure. "I'm Rachel Berry." She walks forward and extends her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"I'm Noah's mother, since he's forgotten his manners and didn't introduce me," the woman says. She shakes Rachel's hand, and Rachel feels a little less tense.
"She came by without calling," Noah says, like he's annoyed by the whole thing. Rachel can tell, however, that he's definitely interested in whatever is cooking on the stove. "I tried calling you, but..."
"I was in a meeting and forgot to turn my phone back on," Rachel explains. "I'm sorry." Violet comes over and rests her hand on Rachel's leg, so she leans down to pick the girl up. "Hi, sweetie."
"Do you make a habit of being out of touch?" Mrs. Puckerman asks.
Rachel's mouth goes dry. She should not be nervous in front of this woman. She's close to 30, and there is no need for her to be intimidated.
"Mom," Noah intervenes. It sounds like a warning. One Mrs. Puckerman doesn't heed.
"I'm just curious. You can't blame me for wondering. We're just all lucky it was nothing more serious, hmm?"
Rachel casts a glance at Noah, and he just purses his lips like he wants to apologize but doesn't dare do it with this evil woman around to slap him or breathe fire.
But she still doesn't know how to respond to that claim. She decides on a subject change.
"What are you cooking? Smells great," Rachel says diplomatically.
She can see Noah trying not to laugh. There's a brisket in the oven (she knows the smell of a good brisket). Rachel is a vegetarian.
"Brisket. I can give you the recipe. That is, if you bother to cook," Mrs. Puckerman says.
Rachel grinds her teeth. She doesn't know what the hell she ever did to this woman to deserve this kind of treatment. She's doing her best, here, and her best happens to be very good, if you ask her. Or anyone, really. Even Carole, who Rachel can assume is a friend of Mrs. Puckerman's is always saying that Rachel is a natural and is balancing everything very well.
It's not like she's just some random girl Noah brought home. This clearly wasn't their first choice of a life. She doesn't think she should be in the line of fire for no reason.
"That would be lovely, thank you," Rachel says politely. Noah takes an audible breath.
"So tell me, Rachel, do you find it works well, leaving my son here with an infant all day?" Mrs. Puckerman asks.
"Mom!" Noah shouts. "God. Enough."
Mrs. Puckerman puts her hand on her hip, the wooden spoon jutting out to the side as she stares at her son. "Well, it just hardly seems fair to me. She's out all day walking around in those suits doing god knows what, and you're here with the child."
"It's none of your business," he tells her as gently as he can. Rachel senses it's very hard for him, either because he wants to say more, or he has a hard time talking back to his mother.
Rachel, herself, has a few choice words she'd just love to say right now.
But she's already somehow made a terrible impression and she won't tarnish her name any further with this woman, even though it seems Mrs. Puckerman has already made up her mind on what she thinks of Rachel. It's not fair, and Rachel doesn't like it, and she's sure she could talk her way into the good books, but she doesn't think she even cares enough to try.
She walks over, hands the baby to Noah, and avoids eye contact with all of them before walking from the room. She manages to keep the tears at bay until she reaches the top of the stairs.
Puck can't believe his mom just did that. Sure, she treats him like he's a piece of crap sometimes, but she's his mom and he's given her reason in the past. She's never even met Rachel before and she pulled that shit. No wonder Rachel just walked away. If it were him, he'd still be standing there yelling that the woman had no right to pass judgment like that.
"Nice, ma," he says, shaking his head as he repositions Violet on his hip. "Couldn't leave it alone, could you?"
"I'm sorry, Noah," she says, and he rolls his eyes because he knows she's not sorry about any of it. "I was just saying my piece."
He looks down at Vi, presses one ear against his shoulder and covers the other with his hand before he speaks. "No, you were a total bitch."
"That woman works all those hours, and..."
"And you worked insane shifts while me and Hannah were growing up," he argues. "'S'not fair for you to go after her." She opens her mouth, but closes it again. "Keep stirring that shit. I gotta go clean up your mess."
He knows she expects him to leave Violet there with her, but ever since the kid realized she could walk without falling over she hasn't really wanted to be held as much, and right now she seems content to just sit there in his arms, so he's not about to put her down. He walks up the stairs and Vi squirms to be let down right outside Rachel's door. He knocks a few times and she doesn't answer. When the door is pulled open and she's walking away and he sees that she's fastening her jeans closed. Shit. He doesn't know why he feels a little disappointed.
Well, yeah he does. She's sexy and he almost saw her panties, and that would never be a bad thing.
Violet walks into the room in front of him, and he pushes the door almost all the way closed. He knows his mother hears like a freaking bat, so he wouldn't be surprised if she was listening extra hard.
"You alright?" he asks after a moment. She's unbuttoning her shirt, though, so it's a little hard to concentrate on anything other than that.
And she's wearing a black bra with her white tank top. Unexpected. And sexy.
"You know, I didn't ask for any of this either," she says angrily, pulling her arms from the shirt and tossing it carelessly onto a chair in the room. "I'm doing the best I can. I can't just quit my job. I won't. And it's not fair of that woman to come into this house and insinuate that I'm some kind of terrible caregiver just because I choose to work!"
"I know."
"And you know what else?" she asks. She turns around just as she pulls the black tee shirt over her head, pulls her hair from the back. "I don't appreciate her saying I don't cook. I cook!"
He doesn't want to laugh. He really doesn't. "I know you do."
She sits down on her bed and runs her hand over her face. She's quieter when she speaks again. "It's like she took all the things I'm insecure about and just picked at them until I broke."
He sits down next to her and Violet comes over to stand in front of Rachel, her hands on Rachel's knees.
"You know I don't think any of that crap, right?" he asks after a moment. She just looks at him, like she might not believe him. "C'mon, Rachel. You think if I had a problem with you, I'd keep it to myself?"
She laughs a little, wipes her cheek. "I suppose that's true."
He slings an arm around her, and Violet giggles a little for some reason. "We're good at this," he assures her. Rachel looks up at him, all hopeful and shit. "We got this. Look. Kid's happy and walking and...Well, shit. She's effing adorable."
She laughs again, slides her hand down his thigh before reaching down to pick up the baby.
"Admittedly, we don't have much to do with that part," Rachel insists.
"Whatever." He shrugs his shoulder. "Look, I really should get back downstairs. You don't have to. Hell, if I could get out of this, I would."
"She's your mother," Rachel says, standing from her place.
"Yeah, and you saw what she could do to a perfect stranger. Imagine what she'll do to me," he says. She laughs again and he holds up his hand for a high five.
He doesn't know when they started doing that, but one day he accomplished something he thought was impressive, and he high fived her. It just kind of stuck as their 'thing'. He doesn't mind it. Actually, he thinks it's kind of awesome.
"I was actually thinking I'd take Violet over to the Fabray's this evening," Rachel says, and it's not a total lie.
The truth is, she just cannot fathom sitting through a meal with Mrs. Puckerman right now. And she really isn't in the mood to either eat meat, or fake eating meat.
Puck widens his eyes. "If you take this kid outta here, she'll be..."
"What?" Rachel laughs. "She'll be unpleasant?"
Well, she's got a point there.
"Do your thing," he says.
He thinks it's kind of kick ass that she's totally sticking up to his mom in, like, the most passive aggressive way ever.
Rachel walks towards the door and she touches his shoulder, sliding her hand along it as she passes.
He sucks in a breath as he heads down the stairs and tries to figure out how he's going to tell his mom Rachel's leaving with Violet.
(He settles on telling her she pissed Rachel off, which is totally the truth, and she just sighs and tells him she hopes he's hungry. He knows there's more she wants to say, but she keeps it to herself.)