A/N: Here's part two! Hope you like it! (Not quite as long as I'd thought it would be, but this is how it turned out and I think it ended in the right place. I hope you enjoy it!
The ride to her house is almost silent, aside from the radio playing softly in the background. Nickelback's Save Me was on when she got into the car. When they made it to her house it was You and Me by The Fray.
"Thank you for the drive," Rachel says, starting to shrug out of the blanket. Puck reaches over and stops her. She looks at him questioningly.
"Keep the blanket," he says. "You still look cold, and you can give it back tomorrow."
She looks at him for a moment longer before saying, "Okay". She grabs her backpack and opens the passenger door, stepping (read: stumbling) out of the cab. She gives him a small smile before turning and walking up the path. She puts her key in the lock, and turns it. She opens the door slightly, but turns back to where Puck's truck is still idling in her driveway. She releases the door handle and walks back over to the passenger side door.
She gestures with her hand and he rolls down the window. He looks at her questioningly. "Would you like to come inside? I am extremely grateful for your generosity earlier, and if you would allow me to I would like to thank you properly with some hot chocolate."
Crazy Berry is back, Puck thinks to himself, secretly glad. (Crazy Rachel he is used to; Quiet Rachel is unknown territory.) "Sure, that would be great," he says, after a moments contemplation, turning his car key towards himself in the ignition and exiting his vehicle.
He follows her into her house, closing the door behind him gently. Stepping out of his shoes he follows her down the hall to where he knows (from their week-long fling) that the kitchen is.
He wonders later – as he sips hot chocolate from a mug that says 'Daddy's Little Star' – if he should be worried. Because sitting with Rachel Berry, on her couch, spilling his concerns and fears about Quinn's pregnancy, should not feel normal; and he should not be longing to run his fingers through her long hair and press his lips against hers.
Yeah, he should be worried. (But he's not.)
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