A/N: So this part came out quickly and I'm hoping it's all in-character and that you enjoy it. It's set during regionals of their junior year so at this point they've been together for like seven months or so. I obviously cut out the song Rachel wrote for Finn because there is no way I could make it work for Puck. And this addresses some other things I think might be gaps in the show and were big questions I had. The songs in it are barely mentioned so I'm not going to mention them again here, and really I listened to All to Myself by Marianas Trench while I was writing. Not that it particularly fits this part either but it's a good song anyway.

Thanks for all the love with this story- please keep it coming. You are the best and it's been a lot of fun to write this one. A reminder that it's rated M for two reasons: Puck's mouth and… his actions. As always, this part spawned ideas for a couple more so I'm not sure there's an end in sight. Oh, and I was fairly lazy with proofreading so I apologize in advance for any typos. Read what I mean, not what I wrote. Ha.

Get It In Writing

Rachel sighed as she flipped through the garment bags one more time. One of them was missing and she couldn't figure out which one. She looked down at the clipboard clutched in her hand again, counting the names on their list. Between Kurt's departure and Matt's moving when his parents split, they had been forced to acquire another member to even compete. Puck had talked a girl from the fight club (which he couldn't participate in anymore due to being on probation from the incident as they simply referred to it and thank God) into joining and she still didn't want to know how. She also didn't want to particularly deal with Lauren and her caustic personality, but at least they had twelve members.

Rachel, Quinn, Tina, Santana, Brittany, Mercedes, Lauren. Why did they only have six dress bags?

Finn had gone with Mr. Schuester to hand out the boys' ties and the registration forms to confirm their spot in the competition. The had technically been registered as soon as they won at sectionals, but an ink signature was required on the form, so turning it in was really just a housekeeping sort of matter. Still, she knew they wouldn't be any help to her because the boys were so useless that even handing out ties was enough to keep them occupied.

Santana approached slowly. "What's the problem there mid—Rachel?"

That was another thing. Rachel let out a deep breath and looked over at her. It may not have been one-hundred percent fair or justified, but Rachel had absolutely unleashed on Santana during sectionals. It had been nearly three months and the two of them still rarely spoke. And usually only when there were witnesses around. Noah had backed up everything Rachel said and although she knew they were still sort of friends, being on the outs with Noah in anyway was not a comfortable place for Santana. Rachel almost felt bad for interfering in their friendship. She would've felt worse if it hadn't been a direct reaction to Santana's constant interference in Rachel and Noah's relationship. She couldn't deny it was nice to have that little bit of tension gone.

"I'm missing a dress and I can't figure out which one."

"Do you have mine? Me and Britt are ready to get dressed."

Rachel just nodded before she leaned forward. Of course the garment bags containing both of theirs were in the middle of the pile. It was a delicate combination of kneeling so the whole pile didn't slide, yanking hard enough to get the bags out from under her knees, and trying not to fall over. She managed, but felt less than graceful. Santana kind of snorted her amusement at the struggle, but didn't offer to help and didn't say anything. She reached out to accept the two garment bags and then turned on her heel and walked away.

Rachel sighed. "Santana, wait!" She said simply. Santana stopped as Rachel gestured to the shoe boxes stacked neatly next to the chair. "Don't forget your guys' shoes." Santana simply nodded and retrieved the top two boxes then walked away.

Rachel redirected her attention to the list and crossed off Brittany and Santana's names. She narrowed her eyes as she looked over the list again.

"Rach?" Finn said, his voice hesitant and soft.

She was distracted by her imperfect inventory and just gave him a cursory glance before she looked back down at the clipboard with a frown. "Yes?"

"Here," he said, holding his bent arm up.

She all but gasped when she saw a dress bag draped over his arm. "Thank you! Why do you have that?"

"The ties were all in with one of the dresses," he started. He grinned, a little sheepishly. "Your dress was the smallest so they were in with yours. Sorry."

She shook her head and smiled. "I've been going insane trying to figure out who's dress I was missing and now you're telling me it was my own?"

He laughed. " 'Fraid so."

She reached out to pull the bag off his arm and as she slid it away from the black shirtsleeve, she noticed his tie draped around his neck. "Do you need some help with that?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "You do it the best."

"Of course I do," she said. "I was coached by two fathers who wear ties daily."

He shook his head. "Have you ever heard of a word called 'modesty'? It was on my study list. I could've sworn you were the one who wrote that list."

She looked at him with a smile and shook her head as she tugged on the ends of his tie to drag him over to where a low bench was situated against the wall. She turned her head to watch what she was doing as she stepped up on the bench to boost herself up so she would be able to reach all the way to his neck. It actually made her eye-level with him so she lowered her voice. "Well, I look at it like Santa Claus. I've heard of it, but I think of it as a nice fantasy that doesn't really have a place in my world."

He chuckled a little under his breath but tried to hold still as she began the familiar motion of tying his tie, like she had for every single competition or performance they'd done where a tie was required.

Rachel felt Noah's approach more than she saw him. Finn noticed her tense up. It was kind of a running theme when Puck was around lately, so it was safe to say Finn felt his presence, too. As soon as she had looped the tie together, he stepped away. He could take it from there and saw no reason to make the tension between the three of them any worse. "Thanks. I'll just go see how everyone else is doing," he said. She nodded her response. "Schue has the paperwork stuff to bring you but I think he got distracted with something about seating so he might be another minute." She just nodded and looked at the watch on her wrist. They still had about 20 minutes before they had to be in their seats. Her makeup was already done, her hair needed very little work, and now that the mystery of the missing dress was done, she felt like she'd be fine—but she still had the girls' dresses. She hoped they could be ready expediently as well.

"Hi," she said softly to Noah. Her well-placed smile faltered a little bit as she took in the urgency all over his face. He grabbed her arm and tugged a little bit. She stepped down and looked at him with confusion and a little bit of concern. "Are you angry that I was…" she gestured vaguely in the direction Finn had walked.

"No, I know he's an idiot that can't tie his own tie. I'm surprised he can handle tying his own shoes half the time," he said in a rush. He thought about what he said and…well, sure, Finn wasn't a total idiot all the time and maybe Finn could help him out before he talked to Rachel. He put his hand on her shoulder. "You know, actually, you still need to go get dressed. Do that first and then I'll come find you."

She scowled her confusion as he pulled her close to kiss her cheek. "God, you smell incredible," he mumbled.

She was still standing there and still totally confused as he jogged off in the same direction Finn had gone.

He caught sight of Finn slipping into the closing door of the boys' dressing area. Noah slipped a hand inside, just barely before it was closed too far. Finn would be way better equipped to handle what he'd just seen than Rachel would be. Maybe.

"Finnegan," he said sharply as he went into the room. Exactly what he didn't want to happen did, as everyone in the room turned to look at him. "A word." He yanked his head back to the door. Finn looked around, wondering if maybe Puck was going to go off half-cocked on him about Rachel again. It was kind of a theme, especially for some reason since Santana and Rachel had gotten into it.

"What?" He said as soon as they were back out in the hall. Puck looked down the hall to where Rachel had been standing and was glad she was gone. He really didn't fucking want to tell her any of this, but kind of felt like he should. He just didn't want it to be so.

"It kills me to say this, but I need your help with something Rachel-related."

"No, man. You're on your own there," Finn said simply. His hands were on his hips, but he shrugged anyway. "I can't…"

"Look, the problem is not Rachel, exactly. The problem is who I just saw here. In fact, we probably need to warn Quinn about this, too. Maybe I should grab Sam."

"There's really only one thing that would screw up both of them," Finn said in one of his brief flashes of catching on quick. His eyes widened. "Holy shit, is Miss Corcoran here?" He looked around.

"Yeah," Puck whispered, moving closer to talk a little lower. "But even worse is that she brought St. James with her."

If it were possible for Finn's eyes to pop anymore, they did. "We're screwed, dude." He turned and kind of kicked at the wall. "Fuck!"

"Yeah, thanks," Puck said dryly. "That helps."

"Did they see you, too?"

"No. I saw them walking in from the parking lot and I hightailed it out of the lobby," he said. He was pacing back and forth now, he and Finn sharing the same basic tense posture.

It had not been long enough since they both got in (serious) trouble for protecting Rachel for this to happen.

Puck rubbed a hand over his Mohawk and thought. "Do we tell Schue?"

Finn nodded. "That's a good idea. Maybe he can talk to Ms. Corcoran and at least have her sit somewhere up in the balcony where Rachel won't see her."

Puck nodded, too. "Either way, I better go get this shit over with. I think Rachel's suspicious since I didn't blow a gasket when she tied your tie."

"Yeah, I…" Finn trailed off. He didn't want to admit he'd been kind of expecting the same thing.

"Look, you guys are friends and I have to deal with that," Noah said on a shrug. "If she was untying your tie, I would've pounded you both into the ground."

"Fair enough," Finn said. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "It really sucks that they're here."

Puck just nodded again as they bumped fists and parted ways with their understanding of what they had to do. It was basically emergency notification at this point and he wondered if he could come up with enough of a distraction for Rachel. She had kept her cool when Finn burst out with his fucking three words last year, but this was totally different. When it came to her mom, and even a little when it came to Jesse, it was all tied together and she hadn't really dealt with any of it. It was definitely her weak spot. And as much as he was concerned with blowing the competition by dropping this on their female lead (who had written the fucking anthem they were singing, by the way and it was fucking awesome so she deserved to be proud and he was proud of her) within spitting distance of going on stage, he was more concerned by the harm that would be done to her, to Rachel herself. There was no way to make this go down easy—the most limited fallout he could think of is if Rachel knew they were here but never had to see them. God, why in the hell did he have to see them? Why couldn't he have just continued on, focused only in distracting her in another…way.

Hmm. Maybe that would be a good distraction in this case, too. He had to at least consider it. And then maybe he could just get her really, really drunk after the competition when they were celebrating their win. The plan was not without flaws, but it would be a good starting point.

He knocked lightly at the girls' door and Rachel came out of the dressing room several minutes later. Kurt had helped them with their costumes, even though it meant a lot of back and forth for him since his transfer to Dalton. He said it was the least he could do for the group that had so staunchly tried to defend him. And while Puck had been watching Rachel and hoping she was okay after everything that had happened, he knew that she'd had a big hand in the costumes because she and Kurt had really helped each other deal with stupid fucking Karofsky—well, his actions at least.

Anyway, with her input into the costumes he kind of wondered what they would end up like. She had a certain style, and while he had found redeeming qualities in it for sure just because he loved her, he had kind of wondered what she and Kurt would come up with when they put their heads together.

Now, looking at her, he had to admit they had done a really good job. She looked fantastic, even if she was struggling with the silky black swath of ribbon wrapped around her waist. All the fighting she'd done and those stupid bitches couldn't even be bothered to help her get dressed. He shook his head looking at her.

"Turn around a sec, babe," he said softly.

"Um, really? You're going to help me tie my dress closed?" She asked doubtfully.

"Well…I figured you'd cuff me if I tried to get you out of it." He said easily, bending his knees a little bit so he could see what he was doing even as the smooth fabric snagged on his guitar-string roughened fingers. He felt retarded for cracking the joke about Hudson not being able to tie anything earlier.

"Well, you just have to pick the appropriate moment, Noah," she said, her voice laced with exasperation and amusement all at the same time.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. She had no fucking idea how much truth she was speaking to him in that one second. He tugged on the two loops he had formed. That was as close to equal as he was going to get them. She sensed he was done and turned around to look at him.

Her voice was low and sweet. "There's something you don't want to tell me."

Goddamn her…he shook his head. How in the hell did she do that?

"Yeah," he said simply. He tugged her closer to him with his hands on her waist.

"Well…is it something you did? Because I think that might be able to wait and…"

"I wish," he said. He reached a hand up to toy at her hair. "There's someone here I know you don't want to see."

"Okay…" she said simply. "Like what? All of Vocal Adrenaline?"

He flashed a quick smile and shook his head.

"More like two former members. Or a former member and their former director." He mumbled. He still had a hand on her waist and he felt her suck in a breath.

"How do you know this?"

"I saw them," he admitted.

"Do they have…they..is…"

"Beth isn't with them."

She shook her head. "So I get that Shelby is here, but who's the other one?"

He closed his eyes. She was going to make him fucking say it. He had his fingers tangled in her hair and his head was tilted toward her as he mumbled the name. "Jesse St. James."

Noah knew as soon as she spoke she hadn't actually dealt with anything that fucker had done to her. "Why would he be here?" Her voice was thin and nervous.

"I don't know, I just saw them walking in together. I didn't stick around and chat with them."

She nodded and dropped her head. "Yeah, chatting with your fists wouldn't be good at the competition."

"You know me too well," he admitted. "I just didn't want you to…to be singing and then see them."

"You know me too well," she echoed. She brought her hands up to his shoulders. "Well, there is nothing we can do about this. And we need to get to our seats." She raised her eyes up and they searched his. "So let's go."

"Keep your head up," he said simply. He reached up to take one of her hands in his. "I won't let go, okay?" He leaned forward and kissed her forehead even as she nodded. Finn and Schue had just come out of the boys' dressing room and were approaching.

"You okay, Rach?" Finn said simply. He could see how tightly her hand was wound into Puck's and he felt a small stab of jealousy mixed with relief. He was glad Puck was there for her, even if he wished he could be the one there for her like that.

She sniffled a little bit even though she had cried so little the tears never left her eyes. "Yeah," she said simply. "The show must go on, right?"

Mr. Schuester smiled at her and nodded. "Right."

"Then let's go out there," she agreed. Schue squeezed her shoulder and Noah clutched her hand and the foursome walked out to the designated meeting place just outside the auditorium doors before they went in as a group to claim their seats.

Finn's height was a real advantage sometimes and it was never more so than when he was trying to find someone or something. He bobbed on his toes over the heads of the people backstage, looking for one figure dressed completely in black. Because at a show choir competition, that wasn't damn near impossible to find.

"Puck!" he hissed out into the crowd. He'd seen two or three options for the guy but there were just so many people.

"What?" Puck asked. He had finally pried his hand out of Rachel's long enough she could go off and sing her duet ballad thingy with Finn and it had pained him to do so. She had clutched his hand so tightly as they watched the other groups perform that he thought his fingers might fucking fall right off. He thought maybe he understood how Santana called her man-hands. It wasn't the size, it was the brute force of her grip.

"Rachel's freaking out and I…I can't make her calm down." Finn sighed. "I think she's had about a gallon of water to drink and at this point I'm just hoping she doesn't, like, pee her pants while she's on stage."

Puck's eyes widened. The group performing before them was only about a third of the way through their first song, which bought him probably somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes before they would be done.

"All right," Puck said. He recognized it for what it was—calling in a pinch hitter. It took a lot for Finn to admit, especially to him of all people, that he couldn't get through to Rachel. "Where is she?"

"I told her you would meet her just outside."

Puck just nodded and turned around to go find her. She was pacing just outside the door to the stage and muttering to herself with her hands in her hair.

"Rachel?" He asked slowly. She didn't seem to notice him. "Hey, Berry!" he said more sharply and her head jerked up.

"Noah, what if they think I'm terrible? What if the song I wrote isn't good enough and they laugh at me and…"

He pulled her close to him, took her hands in his and tucked them behind her back, and in the most effective shutting-up mechanism he'd found yet, walked her to the brick wall so he could push her up against it with a forceful kiss.

He finally pulled away with a small smirk. "Now what were you so worried about?"

She swallowed hard. "Jesse and Shelby and…" she sighed. Her body was a little more relaxed, but not totally. He nodded and kissed her again, this time pulling his hands away from hers so he could take her jaw into his hands even as his hips rolled forward against her out of habit. She brought her hands up to his wrists and rubbed down to his elbows and he groaned into her mouth as she pulled her tongue away from his and then sucked on his bottom lip until she let her teeth graze the sensitive flesh. He loved kissing her—and it might've been the first time he couldn't say that about a girl, really.

He pulled away abruptly. "Remind me again what you're so worked up about?" He said, his voice breathy and almost panting the words.

She dragged her eyes open lazily. "Jesse…Shelby…"

"Fuck," he said simply. He was hoping he could kiss her stupid but she was too damn smart—or neurotic—for that. He wasn't sure which or what combination. He let his eyes drift around the small hallway until he found a recessed corner that led to some stairs. It was a back entrance for the catwalks above the stage no one was using. He hoped to high hell it would be a private enough corner. He tugged her with him as he walked over there and was secretly glad he'd done that stupid band concert in Fort Wayne way back when so he knew the way around the auditorium well enough to find the quiet spot in the sheer madness of sixteen show choirs performing.

"Wh-what are you doing?" She asked breathlessly. "I ca-can't miss my cue," she stammered. He pressed against her eagerly, almost grinding her into the wall as she lifted her legs up to wrap around his waist.

"I'll get you there," he promised. The double meaning wasn't lost on her, either. She knew exactly what he was doing. The thin capri dance pants under her dress were hardly a barrier, even thinner than cotton underwear, and she ground against the hard bulge in his pants eagerly as he dropped his head down and licked her neck. It was that spot and she sighed as her hands traced over the shortest hair on the side of his head.

He dropped one hand away from where he was rubbing his thumb in slow, forceful circles over her dress, to press it tightly to her core. She gasped out and dropped her head back against the wall with a thud. "Oh, God…Noah…"

He moved his head so he could breathe into her ear. They may have been somewhat separated from the group for a minute but there was no need to take chances. "I want to fuck you," he growled. "To love you until you can't stand up but I can't do that right now, can I?"

"No," she said, the word a short, breathy cry as he pressed his fingers more insistently against the seam of her pants.

"God," he muttered as she rolled her hips against his hand. It all pressed against his fully-charged erection. It never failed to amaze him how little foreplay was actually required between them. Like they always had a low level of lighter fluid and it just took one match. "God, I love you. I love you."

"Mmm…" she said, rolling her head away from him. "Mmm…I love you, too."

"I don't want you to worry about anything. You're going to do so good up there…fuck…you're amazing," he said. He had managed to wiggle his fingers up to the smooth waistband on the pants. There was just enough stretch in them for him to slip his hand inside and once again (as always) she wasn't wearing underwear with her dancing attire.

The feel of his hard finger against her wet center nearly made her come undone right there. He could hear her heartbeat pounding against her chest in time with her raspy breathing and he pressed a kiss to her lips to quiet her sounds, eventually slipping his tongue against hers as she opened her mouth.

He retreated from the fiery kiss just enough to speak, but his lips were still brushing against hers. "I wish I could be inside you while you come," he said simply. Her hips were rolling against his hand frantically and her eyes were closed so tightly. Her breathing was fast and silent. "I love having my dick inside you while you scream my name, or feeling you all over my fingers," he said passionately, barely able to get the words out. "I love watching your face when you let go. Let go for me baby," he begged. She smacked her head against the wall as her mouth opened against his and he swallowed the breathy moan of his name that escaped from her. He loved that, even when he wasn't buried inside her, he knew she was having an orgasm just by her breathing and her voice.

They could hear the roar of applause from the auditorium, a lot more clearly than the vague and muffled noises that had come from the room previously while they were otherwise engaged.

He was so fucking hard it wasn't funny. But there was no time at the present to fix that. He stepped back barely enough that she could slide her legs down his and place her feet on the ground. He withdrew his hand from her pants and pulled the waistband up where it belonged. Her eyes came open and she looked at him intently.

"Now what were you so worried about?" He asked, his smile threatening.

She smiled back at him. "Huh? Nothing. I wasn't worried in the slightest. We're fully prepared for this competition." She slipped her hand into his. "Let's go kick some ass."

He rolled his eyes just a little bit. She would be fine. He would have to dance around a raging hard-on because he knew hearing her sing would just make that fucker even worse. He took a deep breath and followed quickly behind her. It might've been torture and all, but he sure as hell wasn't going to miss it. "Let's go," he said simply.

He turned his head to the side and saw someone at the end of the hallway and he was pretty sure he knew who it was. He tugged on her hand lightly to stop her.

"Hey," he said, stepping closer to her. He knew she was in a hurry and he could see Finn's head peeking over the people moving around backstage, no doubt looking for her. "I love you. Break a leg." (At least he got those two in the right order.)

"Where are you going?" She asked in a thin voice.

"Quick bathroom trip. I won't miss more than a few seconds," he bartered. He gave her a quick kiss and then slapped her ass. "Go get 'em."

She smiled and ran away; it had been by design because he knew she didn't have time to protest.

He stepped back out into the hallway and let the door close, and sure enough. The douchebag was going to…what? Look for her backstage to wish her good luck? Not so much.

Puck tucked his hands in his pockets and walked quickly toward the approaching figure.

"Well, well, well," Puck said tightly.

"Was that you sneaking out of a clandestine corner with Rachel Berry?" Jesse asked, his voice dripping with interest and…something else.

"Why the fuck would I tell you anything about that?" Puck snorted. "What are you doing here?"

"I wasn't aware it would be suspicious for me to attend a public gathering where many of my friends are performing. I just happened to be in town."

Puck nodded. "I never said it was suspicious. But your friends aren't back here. That's what I meant when I asked what you were doing here."

The two had strolled to a stop, a mere fifteen feet away from the door that lead to Rachel and Finn on stage and starting to belt out Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough.

If Noah Puckerman had his way, the other shithead wouldn't get any further.

"I tried to apologize."

"Yeah, I know." He said simply. "Like you thought that was possible. It was actually kind of funny."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "What would you know about it?"

"Again, why the fuck would I tell you anything about that?"

Jesse nodded. "So the off-limits subject is Rachel…and whatever relationship the two of you share."

Noah nodded simply. "You had it at 'Rachel'."

"So you're her protector then?" Jesse asked. He cocked his head to the side. "When last I checked, she could decide who she wanted to speak to for herself. And the Rachel Berry I knew wouldn't have tolerated anyone doing the dirty work for her."

"Well, she isn't the Rachel Berry you knew, because you knew her before all the screwed up shit you and Shelby Corcoran pulled."

Jesse's face faltered a little bit. "I..I.." he cleared his throat. "It wasn't like that."

"Okay, well regardless of how it was, I'll tell you how it is, jackass. You wanna talk to her? You have to go through me first. And it'll be over my dead fucking body."

Jesse's jaw set, so did Puck's, and they stared each other down hard for a long moment.

"Well…I guess you'd better get in there so your team can actually compete. Break a leg, Noah."

"That has two totally fucking different meanings to us," Puck said, his voice low and full of steel. "Don't approach me again." He turned on his heel and walked quickly to the stage where he could hear the fading notes of the first song. They were all supposed to run out on the stage to start their mash-up of "Sometime Around Midnight" and "Who Can It Be Now?" that would feed almost directly into the pop anthem Rachel had written. He needed to be out there because he was the soloist for the first song. As he jogged out, Finn caught his eye and even though their friendship was slipping (understatement of the fucking century), Puck was pretty sure he knew that Jesse St. James had been dealt with.

"What do you mean 'we're missing someone'?" Schue asked. Puck was looking around and out the window, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of his girlfriend anywhere and he kind of wanted to smack their beloved director right in the face.

"Rachel isn't here yet," Finn said, his voice tinged with 'duh'. "How could you not notice that?"

"I thought she was getting a ride with her dads," Schue added simply, in his own defense.

"No," Puck said. He breathed out a frustrated sigh. "I'll go see if I can find her."

"Don't you think maybe a girl should do that?" Mercedes asked.

"Let's just send Finn," Santana said simply. That started a squabbling match that made Puck roll his eyes as he bounded off the bus and back into the auditorium. Rachel had been trying to get changed and gather up whatever random crap was left behind in the dressing rooms. He and Finn had already been back and forth no less than a half-dozen times carting stuff out to the bus for her. But he'd thought she was just taking a private moment to change once everything else was finished, so he'd gotten on the bus. (It was hardly worth mentioning the bus from sectionals had left them when Schue assumed they had forgotten to clear a private ride home and they got…distracted. Sue him for being a little anxious not to miss the bus and spend the next hour on the phone trying to find a ride home from fucking Fort Wayne, Indiana.)

He found her, still in her blue-green dress, sitting on the upholstered bench outside the dressing room, the same one she had stood on a few hours earlier to tie Finn's tie. She was staring at her phone but he wasn't sure she was seeing it.

Noah lowered himself down to her carefully and tried to speak softly so at the very least he didn't scare her. "Rach? We're all waiting on the bus for you."

She swallowed and looked over at him. She blinked a couple of times and it was like the fog lifted. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Noah. I…I…"

"What's going on?" He asked. He reached a hand out to rest on her knee.

"Nothing," she evaded.

"Can I see your phone?" He asked the question slowly, hesitantly, like he was dealing with that skittish horse from his uncle's farm the summer he was seven. He held his hand out but she shook her head and snapped it closed.

"Later," she said simply. "Let me change. I'll be quick."

Before he could protest and point out he'd heard that before, she had slipped back into the dressing room. This time though, she was true to her word, and she came out in jeans and his football sweatshirt. She smiled up at him hesitantly as she watched it dawn on him that he'd been looking for that thing for like two fucking months and she'd had it the entire time.

"Looks better on you anyway," he said reaching out to take the garment bag from her arm. He slung it over his shoulder with two fingers hooked in the wire hanger in the top and then took the purple duffle bag she'd had slung over her shoulder (that for the record felt like it was loaded down with some kind of ammunition—the thing weighed almost as much as her). He kicked his free arm around her shoulders as she tucked into his side in a well-practiced routine. "Why so casual? I mean… you're coming out of a school-related event in normal clothes."

She looked over at him with a smirk but she couldn't help an honest admission. "I don't know what possessed me to bring these clothes for the ride home," she started. "But I wanted to feel close to you."

He looked down at her, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other even as he stared. "But I'm here."

"I can't explain it," she said. She bit her lip and Goddamn it, that got him every time. "I guess it's just part of the crazy you're used to by now."

"You got that right," he admitted as they hit the double glass doors that lead to the outside, the parking lot, and the bus.

She smiled up at him, but he missed it because he saw Jesse St. James off in the distance, staring at him with a smirk on his face (as far as he could tell anyway… his eyesight was all right, but even Puck could admit his perspective was way off).

Once they were settled and the bus had started to move, she wordlessly handed him her cell phone, produced from the pocket of her red hoodie.

He knew how to bypass her security screen and flipped the phone open. He flicked a glance over to her but she was just sitting next to him and quietly watching for a reaction of some sort. He wasn't stupid, he knew what she was doing. Whatever it was, she hadn't wanted him to see it until he was powerless to pound whoever had been fucking with her into the ground.

He clicked into her text inbox and the top message was from a number that hadn't been programmed into her phone with an 818 area code. He frowned. Where the hell was that from?

Never figured you were the type to go whoring around in corners with Puck. Guess I was wrong about a lot of things. You're just a stupid little bitch who wasn't worth it. You still aren't.

Noah tried really hard to keep his expression neutral. "I'm going to kill that motherfucker," he ground out. He looked up, wondered if he could find a way to get them to stop the bus.

She reached out a hand and put it on his thigh. "Please leave it alone," she begged. There was a desperate note to her voice. "After the other incident…just…leave it alone."

He sighed and looked at her again. Her face was so worried and she already had tears in her eyes. Plus the bus was already moving.

He was basically powerless to help how she felt when that fucker texted her. So he just deleted the message and handed her phone back to her. Then he pulled out his own and decided something quietly (for once) and only to himself.

If getting it in writing was what made it true—like if that's what she believed because it was the last thing she'd seen in writing about herself—then he would just have to make sure whatever was on top in the texting inbox was actually true.

He shot off a quick message that was labeled to all the members of the glee club, including Kurt and Matt requesting that they send her something nice. It may or may not have also included a vague threat.

The second one he sent was just for her. I can't believe we did that right before a performance. You're fucking hot.

He hit send and let his eyes slide over to her for just a minute as he sensed the movement when she reached for her phone again. Then another message, a more important one occurred to him. And I love you. A lot.

She laughed out loud and pressed her hand to her mouth as she saw the first message from him, but looked over at him with something good shining in her eyes instead of the poison from that asshole as her phone dinged again with an incoming message.

In fact, it didn't stop buzzing with incoming messages until they were almost home and she'd fallen asleep on his chest. He knew he felt a lot better about things and he hoped she did, too.

He sure as fuck wasn't going to wake her up and ask.