I'm On My Way to Believing

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. All recognisable characters, contents or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Rachel Berry left Lima behind, and everything associated with it. Some years later, she crosses paths with a familiar face. Puck/Rachel.

Author's Note: This is actually just a oneshot. I'm not thrilled with it, but I hope you like.

When Rachel Berry boarded that outbound train from Lima, Ohio, she had no clue that it would be literal years until she'd see anyone from her hometown. Her fathers moved to Miami, she lost contact with her few friends from Glee, and by the time five years had rolled around, she was too involved in the beginning of her career to look back on the home she'd left behind.

It had been absurdly easy to do, and she'd had no regrets.

But then she'd heard his voice on the radio, unmistakeable after so many years, and it was shortly thereafter that they'd crossed paths once again. He was older, and a little more wiser, and he held himself with a pride and confidence so unlike the false bravado he'd once worn like armour.

There was no mohawk, no arrogant swagger, just a lazy smile and hazel eyes, and Rachel was taken back so many years, to a yellow bedroom, to a high school girls' bathroom, to the familiar strains of 'Sweet Caroline'. To bleachers and grape slushies and 'I'm Sorry' sugar cookies, to badass jews, a lifetime's worth of memories, and a laundry list of missed opportunities.

She breathed his name. "Noah."

"Rachel," he returned, low and sensual, and so unlike the 'Berry' of so many years gone by.

They talked for hours. Caught each other up on their respective lives, made jokes, reminisced on the glory days. He'd attended UCLA, she'd attended NYU. He'd been engaged once, but they'd separated before they could make it down the aisle. She had an apartment in Manhattan, she'd been single for a while, but she was happy.

It was easy, comfortable, past all the animosity of their adolescence, the angst and tension of those last years of high school. She laughed, smiled, and couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like this.

Had she ever?

They stayed in touch, through Facebook, and text messaging, and even the occasional phone call. She got to know him all over again, and he got to know her too, and things were good. His music career was thriving, her broadway one was too, and between talk show interviews, and tours, and Monday matinees, they drew close, like magnets, opposing forces, or like old friends who'd always been something more..

Until one day, he surprised her, with flowers, and vegan chocolate, and a grape slushie. "Will you have dinner with me?"

Rachel smiled softly. "That sounds lovely."

And so they went on a date, and a few more after that, until she invited him into her apartment one night, and he was still there in the morning.

And she could imagine forever.

"I feel like I've been waiting my whole damn life for you," he said once, in the dark of night, and when he'd thought she was asleep.

"You have me now."

The weeks, the months, the years went by, and they were 27 when he proposed. It wasn't anything extravagant, because she'd grown out of her grande gestures phase years ago, but he got down on one knee and produced a Tiffany and Co. box from his suit jacket.

"Will you marry me?"

"I will."

It made tabloids, and E! News and his mother cried. There were doubts, of course, questions of how long they'd last, and what have you. They were summarily ignored.

And so six months later, they got married, right where it all began, in Lima, Ohio, with Rabbi Greenburg officiating, and with all their friends and family in attendance. There were no members from New Directions, because neither of them had stayed in touch, but no one missed them.

"This is our forever," she smiled, content, "Thank you."

Noah turned in their hotel bed, dropped a heavy arm over her waist and traced circles into her skin with his thumb.

"Anytime, babe. Anytime."

Author's Note: A short little oneshot I found in my trash file.

Don't ask.

Hope you enjoyed. Leave a review. -t.