AN: I still don't own Glee. :( I wish I did though. My birthday's on Friday - anyone want to give me Glee for a present?
Puck got a soda, but he was still ready to just get the damn presents and get out of the fucking mall so he hurried back to Rachel's dressing room, completely prepared to ream her for taking so damn long. Going through what he was going to say in his mind, Puck didn't register the scene in front of the dressing room until he was in hearing distance.
What the fuck? Why the hell is Santana here? Puck hadn't seen the girl before he left, but he had been a little preoccupied with the little Jewish diva now arguing with her. As he listened to the argument, Puck's eyes narrowed with anger, but he decided to let Rachel handle it – he had never gotten into chick fights and didn't plan on starting now.
Rachel's comment about San's boob-job almost made Puck laugh out loud, but he'd been around the crazy bitch long enough to know exactly what her reaction would be. As the Cheerio pulled her arm back to strike the smaller girl, Puck moved faster than he ever did outside of the football field, easily immobilizing Santana.
"What in the fucking hell do you think you're doing, Satan?" Puck couldn't believe he was having to defend Rachel of all people from his crazy-ass ex, but it just felt right. Probably cause Berry was so fucking small. It just didn't seem right when someone beat up on someone that tiny.
"Let me go you fucking asshole!" Santana's eyes were wide and wild with rage and her mouth was twisted in a grimace so ugly that she had Puck wondering what the fuck he'd ever seen in her. Rachel was just as pretty in her face and not half as psychotic – though she definitely had a patent on her own brand of crazy.
Keeping Santana's arm firmly behind her back, Puck looked at her contemptuously. "I'm going to. But, first, you're going to apologize to Rachel, and then you're going to walk away – without saying anything else." He figured he'd better add that in before he had to regret not putting his hand over her mouth.
"You son-of-a-bitch!" Santana had stopped struggling, but Puck carefully kept his lower body away from any appendage she could hit or scratch him with. "Fine. Sorry, RuPaul."
Puck stared at her incredulously. Seriously, what is with all the fucking Cheerios and their goddamn nicknames for people?
"What? I fucking apologized. What more do you want?"
Puck raised his eyebrow. He knew Santana was a psychotic bitch from hell, but she was anything but stupid. "That's not her name, Satan."
Santana grimaced unattractively again. "Sorry, Rachel," she mocked. "There are you happy?"
Puck nodded, knowing that was the best he was going to get from her and let the bitch go.
Santana, true to her crazy-bitch self, had to cause a scene on her way out of the store. "I hope you realize that if you ever fucking call me again, I'll cut your dick off, Puckerman!"
Puck almost wanted to laugh at the threat, but he knew Santana was more than capable of taking away his manhood. Turning back to Rachel, he took a good look at the dress she had on for the first time since he'd gotten back. "Damn, Rach! You look fucking hot! That's definitely the dress." He knew that saying that made him a fucking pussy, but damn, how can you look at a pathetic Rachel and not want to make her feel better?
While Rachel changed and got calmed down by the dressing room attendant, Puck glared in the direction Santana had taken and planned for how he could fix Rachel's rep and protect her once school started until realizing that he'd made a conscious decision to protect Rachel Berry regularly – then he just scowled in general. Once she finally got out of there, he rushed her to the cashier, eager to get out of the store.
"Are you sure this dress is the one, Noah?"
As he saw how close Rachel was to tears, his protective instincts kicked in again, frustrating him. I don't want to fucking protect Rachel Fucking Berry, he thought cruelly, but looking into her big, wet brown eyes, he just gave in. Damn, but I'm gonna have my fucking work cut out for me once we go back to school.
"I'm sure, Rach." He patted her shoulder, not knowing what else to do to make her feel better.
When all she said in answer was "ok," Puck knew he was in trouble. He didn't know what to do with a silent Rachel Berry, and she didn't speak again until after she'd paid.
"I know that I was supposed to help you find your mom and sister bracelets, but can you just take me home?" Puck felt momentary annoyance at her request, but looking closely at how she was curling into herself and scuffing the ground with her toe, he knew he couldn't drag her around more stores with him.
"Sure." He didn't even realize he had his arm around her until they were halfway across the parking lot, but he didn't remove it – he kind of liked how it felt to have someone need his support and comfort.
*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.
The ride home was silent.
Puck didn't know what the fuck he was supposed to do with a quiet Rachel Berry and just drove, not really thinking about anything other than getting her home while Rachel sat in silence, watching the scenery as it passed by.
Rachel was so close to tears, but she kept trying to hold them back. It wasn't fair of her to burden Noah with her problems. She could deal with them – after all, she had learned ways to deal with bullying from pre-school. She'd always been able to stand up for herself; it was just after the confrontation was over that she'd always had trouble controlling her emotions.
A sniffle threatened to break through her carefully constructed mask of control as they turned onto her street, and by the time Puck had pulled up to her house, Rachel was having a terrible time not bursting into tears. She actually wasn't sure that she could say anything without crying, but she also knew it would be immeasurably rude of her to just get out of the truck and walk away without thanking Noah for spending the day with her and for bringing her home.
"Thank you for being so gracious today, Noah. Feel free to come back at any time." Rachel had thought she'd been fairly convincing when she'd thanked him, but as she struggled to get the key into the deadlock of her front door, she heard the driver's door slam. Her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped the key. Rachel just stood there looking at the key and fighting her instinct to cry or run away until a hand reached in front of her and picked up the key, shoving it into the lock and turning the knob.
"Get in the damn house, Berry." Noah's voice was tired, as if he was sick of having to deal with her, and Rachel almost burst into tears just at the sound of it. Somehow though, she managed to stumble to her living room couch before tears silently began coursing down her cheeks.
She thought he had left when she heard the door slam, but the couch shifted as he sat down next to her. Rachel knew she should at least look at him since he was being so nice, but she couldn't lift her face from her hands as she continued to sob quietly.
Rachel heard him sigh, then all of a sudden, she was in his lap and he was pressing her face into his chest and whispering sweet nothings into her ear as he rubbed her back soothingly.
*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.
Puck didn't know what the fuck had happened. One moment, everything was fine, the next she was trying to say goodbye in a voice choked with tears.
He argued with himself before getting out of the truck, but his better side won. That seemed to happen often around Rachel. When she was around, it was as if there were two people in Noah Puckerman's body. There was Puck, of course, who seemed to be his rash, immature, mean side, and then there was Noah who was much kinder and more mature. Noah, for some reason, seemed to really like Rachel.
So, he found himself helping Rachel into her own house and then following her inside. And then, she had to start really crying. Now, Puck was a badass – anyone and everyone would tell you that. But, shit, what half-way decent man could deal with a crying gorgeous woman like Rachel Berry and actually know how to deal with it without turning out like a fucking pussy? So he pulled her onto his lap and was soothing her and – then he was just holding her.
For as much of a horn-dog as Puck naturally was, he was damn proud of himself for not trying to make a move on Rachel as she sat on his lap, pliant and quiet after exhausting herself with weeping. "Are you ok?" he finally asked, his left arm hooked over her legs, keeping her stable on his lap, and his right hand tracing patterns soothingly across her back.
Rachel sniffled against his shirt, but she nodded slowly. However, when he moved to set her gently back on the couch, her fingers wrapped themselves in his shirt and she whimpered slightly. "Can I – can you just hold me for a few minutes? Please, Noah?" Rachel's voice was hoarse and quiet, still choked off from how long she'd been crying, and Puck felt his heart do a strange little flip inside of his chest.
"Yeah, I guess that's ok." Moving to make them more comfortable on the couch, Puck took her with him when he stretched out, and Rachel ended up curled against his chest, her legs in between his and her face pressed to his shoulder. It didn't take long her to fall asleep, and Puck found himself staying still, afraid to wake her.
What the fuck is wrong with me? My arm's fucking asleep, but I'm still not moving cause I don't want to wake her up? I'm turning into a fucking pansy, he thought despairingly. He still didn't move.
*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.*~.
Rachel woke from an exhausted, dreamless slumber to find her face pressed against Noah Puckerman's shoulder and his chin on the top of her head. Keeping completely still, she let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting of late afternoon in her living room and took stock of her surroundings as the day's events came flooding back to her.
She felt her cheeks heat up with the memories of how she had embarrassed herself with the boy she was currently laying on top of, but she still didn't move, afraid to disturb his rest. Glancing at the time on the mantle clock, she realized regretfully that at least one of her fathers should be on his way home. Trying to move without disturbing Noah, she slowly levered herself off her chest, but found her progress suddenly halted by a large warm hand pressed against her back.
"Are you feeling better, Berry?" Noah's eyes had yet to open, but the sexy little smirk on his face made Rachel wonder exactly how much he was enjoying her position on top of him.
"Much better." She nodded perkily in affirmation.
"Okay, good." Noah's eyes finally opened, revealing lazy gold-green eyes that surveyed her with much more consideration than she would have ever imagined Noah Puckerman showing her.
"Ummm- my fathers will be home before long," she muttered, attempting once again to lever herself off of his chest. His hand didn't move. Instead, the other joined it, drifting slightly lower than the first to rest on her lower back. Rachel's belly tightened as her nerve endings tingled from him stroking her back.
"Okay, and?" Puck teased, a true smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. He let the smile grow when she blushed hotly.
"And, even my very liberal parents will be shocked if they walk in the door to see me lying atop of some boy," she muttered back, not meeting his eyes.
"I guess that means we should get up then, huh? " he murmured, enjoying the way her body felt pressed against his.
"Yes, please," Rachel answered, still struggling to ignore the sensations his nearness was causing.
"Okay," he said, abruptly sitting up, taking her with him, then setting her on the other end of the couch.
Rachel stared at him, flabbergasted. "Well, okay then!" She got up, brushing the back of her short skirt off.
As she tried to walk past him, towards the kitchen, Puck grabbed her wrist and tugged her back towards him. "Rachel?" His tone was so serious that it made her heart skip as she nodded. "How often do things like this happen to you?"
Rachel stared at him, pain in her dark eyes. "Things like what? This?" She nodded towards him and the couch.
Puck growled lowly at her. "You know what I mean, Rachel."
Rachel nodded, her eyes falling to stare at the floor instead of meet his eyes. "A lot," she whispered.
Puck nodded. "Well next time, you're going to tell me, and I'm going to stop it, all right?" When Rachel didn't answer he grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. "All right?" he asked again.
Rachel nodded slowly. She began to turn away, but suddenly she blurted out, confused. "Why are you helping me, Noah? Why are you even being nice to me? What changed?"
Puck just shook his head and shrugged as he got up and walked slowly towards the door. Looking back he murmured lowly, "I don't know. I really don't know."
AN: I've been totally overwhelmed by the amount of feedback I've recieved for this story, and I can't express how happy it makes me when I see that people have added me to their favorites or their alerts. The reviewers though are who make my day. It only takes a second, so please please please press the pretty button and leave me a review.
On another note, an anonymous reveiwer left review expressing concern over my phrasing of a description of Rachel in the last chapter. My calling Rachel "The Jew" was not meant to be a derogatory slur in any way. I however cannont apologize for it. In no way have I or will I ever support racial prejudice, but ignoring racial differences is not showing respect for any culture either. People's differences are what make them beautiful, and ignoring them causes more problems than it solves. My description of Rachel was meant to show how Santana, a Latina, and Rachel, a Jew, differentiated though they both are olive toned with dark hair and eyes. I hope I do not lose readers over this matter, but I cannot apologize for my feelings on this matter or for offending anyone by sticking to my convictions.
Thank you again for reading, and please stick with me. :) I'm nowhere near done with Rachel and Puck. (It may be a week or so until my next update though, so please forgive me if you get impatient.)