Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long, but I was having a total writer's block. Hope this doesn't disappoint and as always, please read and review. 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. ):

Chapter 6

Puck slowly navigated his car out of the school compound, making sure to make eye contact with the security guard, who was an ex-football player for McKinley, and didn't care much about the official school rules. The guard eyed his passenger strangely – it was rare to see Rachel Berry breaking rules – but nodded them through.

"So," Puck said, uncomfortable with the surprisingly mute Rachel. He glanced sideways at her, she was staring out of the window blankly, her lips pressed together in a tight line. Her eyes shone from unshed tears, and her fists were clenched, probably from the effort of keeping the tears in. "Do you wanna, uh, talk?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly, tapping his fingers nervously against the steering wheel. He wasn't really much of a talker, he generally stood at the sidelines, offering the occasional snarky comment. And he had absolutely no idea what to do with an obviously distressed girl. Hell, he'd never even tried to cheer someone up, let alone a girl with all their weird emotions and mood swings. Add in the fact that he was having increasingly messed up feelings about this girl; he was totally and completely stumped.

Rachel's sniffled softly. "No, not really."

Puck cringed at the sound of her voice, choked with emotion. Rachel Berry never cried, she was always the stoic, calm one who took everything anyone threw at her, from slushies to the scathing comments, in her stride. He had no idea what to think of this new weak, vulnerable Rachel. "Okay."

Silence enveloped the car again. He didn't even know where he was going; just that Rachel obviously needed to get far, far away from McKinley and all the people inside it. "Do you have anywhere you wanna go?"

Rachel shook her head, tears streaming silently down her face, but when she replied, her voice was stronger. "Take me wherever, Puck."

He flinched at the nickname; Rachel only called him Puck when she was either pissed or depressed. He didn't even think of how pathetic it was that he remembered what Rachel called him at different times, he just reached out for her hand, holding it in his loosely. She paused her silent sniffles for a moment, staring at their intertwined hands apprehensively. Slowly, she relaxed and her fingers gave the slightest pressure back.

"Where are we going?"

Santana rolled her eyes. Brittany had asked that question seven times already, and they'd only just left the school. Though Santana loved Brittany dearly (in more ways than one), she had to admit the blonde was exceptionally ditzy.

"We're following Puck and Rachel, remember?"

Her voice was bored and edged with irritation. She wished she had Quinn at her back, though Quinn never really clicked with Santana as Brittany did; Quinn was always up to speed with her plans, having the same scheming, evil mind as Santana did. Brittany was much slower on the uptake.

But Quinn was busy, as usual. Since the baby, Quinn had distanced herself from Santana and Brittany, still bitter over them dumping her when she was booted off the Cheerios and leaving her defenceless. After giving up the baby for adoption, she'd gotten involved with some college dude, and forgot completely about her two ex-best-friends.

Brittany seemed less affected by Quinn's sudden new life, as adorably unobservant and naive as ever. Santana glanced over at her – she was trying frantically to knock at an ant on the other side of the car window, her brow crinkled in frustration – and smiled wryly. Brittany will be Brittany.

"I'm hungry." Brittany had stopped knocking at the glass, now glaring at the ant sullenly. She looked over at her best friend hopefully. "Can we go to McDonalds?"

Santana looked away from the faint outline of the rumbling green truck they were following to stare at Brittany incredulously. "I'm on a no-carb diet, Britt, and so are you. Remember what Coach Sylvester said? No fast food, not until Nationals."

"But Nationals is next year, Santana. And Coach won't know!" Brittany clapped her hands together excitedly. Santana still looked unimpressed. "Please, Santana? Please?" she begged, widening her eyes imploringly.

Santana sighed, glaring at the truck ahead. She hated it when Brittany begged; she could never resist the plea in her best friend's voice. When Brittany reached a hand out and gently touched Santana's arm, sending shivers of warmth through her body, she conceded defeat.

Rachel had never really held a guy's hand before. For choreography and stuff, she'd held Finn's hand, but since the breakup, she'd realized small little things about their relationship, like the fact that Finn never, ever displayed any form of emotion for her in public and was rarely sentimental with her, even when they were alone together.

They'd kissed and made out on various occasions, but he had never really taken the trouble of a small, simple yet sentimental gesture such as holding hands. She looked down at Puck's hand, his fingers intertwined with hers. His hand was warm and rough, his fingers calloused, and the pressure of his fingers was calming, reassuring. It felt nice.

Her eyes flickered to the boy beside her as she blinked away her tears. He seemed...different somehow, away from school. His face was clear of the usual moody scowl etched across it, and his eyes, bright hazel, were not mocking her or filled with loathing. Instead, they were concerned, fixed on the road ahead of them. She found herself attracted to this new Puck – Noah – who had actually taken the time to help her out, even offering to talk, despite the fact that she knew he was...uncomfortable with emotions, especially girl ones.

She was so transfixed in studying his face and comparing the boy beside her to the boy she knew and loathed so well, that she didn't notice he'd stopped the car, and had turned to face her. Their eyes locked for a moment, and she felt the air around them electrify, before he blinked and looked away. She flushed red with embarrassment, and looked out to see the truck had stopped beside a park, nearly deserted, save for two children who were happily building a sandcastle in the playground while their mother watched from a bench nearby.

"What are we doing here?" she asked carefully, concealing her mortification at being caught staring at Noah Puckerman, of all people.

He shrugged. "The truck's running out of gas, and this place is pretty much as far away from McKinley as you can get, without leaving Lima itself." He pushed open the truck door roughly and threw a grin over his shoulder. "You coming?"

Rachel considered it a moment, a small smile creeping onto her face. She struggled to get out of the truck, while Puck stood there on the pavement, smirking lazily. Once she had managed to clamber her way down, he set off down a winding pebblestone path, trusting her to follow him like a trained dog.

She rolled her eyes but followed him, already feeling happier.

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