A/N: I'm so overwhelmed and thankful for all the attention from this story. The number of hits alone just messes with my head. So thank you for the ego boost! Of course, I'm most grateful for replies and I would love to hear what you think. I'm open to suggestions if there's something you want me to write, drop me a line and let me know. So, um, sorry there is no smut in this part, but there is other fun to be had in a Puck/Rachel relationship, right? This one is a little more serious than the others but I hope you like it just the same.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Glee-related except season one on DVD.

Get It Over With

Puck sighed as he raised his hand to knock on the front door. And he dropped it—again—for the fifth time in what felt like as many seconds. First up, he didn't normally knock. Not at Rachel's house. They had hung out a few times over the last few months, more than a few times, and not even in the way that involved fucking. They watched movies. So what if some of the popcorn usually ended up down her shirt? He had really stellar fucking aim. They had dinner with her dads. Her dads thought he was nice and polite. So what if he barely said a word because he was afraid he couldn't open his mouth without saying the f-word or finding a twisted way to insult their daughter, thus provoking their undeniable rage? He knew the bigger one would probably kill him. They sometimes played games, but almost all of them ended in some sort of offered and denied prostitution. It seemed like maybe offering to exchange a railroad for a blowjob during Monopoly had been the last straw, and yeah they hadn't played games for a while.

No, today was totally different and he really fucking wished it wasn't. Shit, if this were even six months ago, he wouldn't have felt obligated to tell her one goddamn thing. He must really be losing his touch.

Puck! You mean to tell me you didn't know who adopted our daughter? It's not a totally closed adoption.

Quinn's disbelieving words were in his head and made his ears ring and his guts turn over. He didn't want to be the one to tell her. He really, really hadn't wanted that fucking honor dropped in his overqualified lap. And just why in the hell was he always the bearer of bad news? He smirked. Yeah, he totally knew it was because he caused a lot of the bad shit to rain down.

This was totally different.

He sighed and raised his hand again, but was still shocked when the door yanked open. Rachel was standing before him wearing nothing but a fairly tight tanktop and a really small skirt—and smirk that was bigger than her entire wardrobe. Fuck, when did she get a rack?

He shook his head and yanked his eyes back up to her face. "Hey."

"Hey, Noah. I wasn't expecting you today, and from the looks of the new rut in our front porch, I would say you weren't actually expecting to knock on the door."

"Why the hell are you home anyway?" He grumbled. "Didn't you have some stupid-ass audition or something other?"

"This morning," she agreed. "But three in the afternoon isn't exactly morning, is it?"

"Depends on when you go to bed." He said, resting his hands on his hips. His heart was thumping like it was going to make a leap for it out of his throat.

She nodded. "Well, I suppose that's true," she gave a small laugh and shook her head. "Maybe you should come in and get off your feet. You know, since you had a long night."

"Of course I did," he agreed.

"Uh-huh," she said mockingly. "That's why Finn came over around eight and said you'd already bailed on the 'epic video game marathon of the summer'." She moved out of the way so he could come inside and then closed the door behind him.

"Dads?" He asked questioningly.

"Work," she answered simply. "Which means I'm probably not supposed to have boys over, but they might make an exception for the quiet Jew."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you ever going to stop fucking teasing me about that?"

"Sure," she agreed. "When I find something better."

"You might've deserved every single slushie I gave you."

"And you might deserve every STD and illegitimate child you ever get," she muttered sweetly as she led the way down to their basement.

Okay, so maybe they hung out more than a few times because this was the accepted routine. Instead of trying to come out his throat, his heart made a dive to his stomach. He needed to get this over with, but if there was one thing he knew about girls, it was that you couldn't just blurt stuff like this. Of course, his usual method of softening them up with some making out first probably wasn't going to fly in this case.

She turned to him. "Well, I'm glad you stopped by because I decided on a new activity for us."

He grimaced openly. He could only imagine what she had come up with. "If it involves feathers, I'm out."

She shook her head. "No. It involves you teaching me how to play a stupid video game."

He raised his eyebrows. That wasn't what he was thinking.

"Are you high?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. And to be perfectly honest, I have no interest in it, but Finn mentioned that we have a decent setup down here for some sort of a video gaming marathon. He thinks it would help us unite the glee club to do something like that over here on a regular basis while school is out and social factors aren't as concerning as normal."

"So have him teach you," he said, flinging himself onto the leather couch that sat opposite the large, wall-mounted plasma screen television.

She eyed him surreptitiously. She had mentioned Finn, which seemed to be a sore subject since she'd mentioned Finn's pre-regionals admission to her. Puck had then said he was just waiting for her to ditch out on him to go get some ass. Apparently, when mentioning Finn, she had to sugar-coat it with some ego stroking. This was not going to be easy.

She sat down next to him, a little closer than she would have for a movie, and tucked her legs up underneath her. The cool leather gave her goosebumps a little bit but she persisted.

"I want you to do it," she said. "I think you're a way better person for the job."

He looked over at her suspiciously. "Yeah, fucking right. You're just afraid you'll jump Hudson's bones."

She gave a little shrug. "I'm a master of self-control, Noah." She tilted her head. "How do you explain the fact that I've been hanging out with all summer and I haven't jumped your bones yet?"

He snorted in amusement as he looked over at her. Jesus, if she was turning on the charm, she must want it pretty bad. It's not like actual flirting was one of her specialties. You also can't bullshit a bullshitter and he knew exactly what she was doing.

Quinn's revelation edged back in just as he was about to give into her chocolate-brown eyes, looking up at him all huge and beautiful and hopeful. She wasn't even trying to give him the eyes, but he was still distracted long enough that he knew he just had to get it over with.

He shifted on the couch just a little bit so he could see her better. She frowned a little bit at the intense look on his face.

"Okay, so I have to tell you something," he said abruptly. "And it really sucks. Like it really, really sucks so we might have to make out so you'll feel better."

She dropped her hands into her lap, tilting her head with concentration and a serious expression.

"So I was taking some money to Quinn earlier to help her with medical bills." He started. "That shit's so expensive I think it'll take us the next decade to pay it off." She swallowed and narrowed her eyes a little. "Anyway, she and I got to talking and…" he shrugged and looked away. There was no way in hell he wanted to see the look on her face when she caught his drift. "Well, you know Beth was adopted by a single mother and we were totally okay with that because we picked her profile at the adoption agency."

"Right," Rachel said, sitting back on her heels a little more.

"Well, she lives in Indiana now. She'll actually go to Carmel High School if she still lives there when she grows up."

Rachel's face was the picture of confusion. "What does this have to do with me, Noah? I mean, you know I care about it, but…

"Shelby is the one who adopted her," he finally admitted. He kept his chin down, twisting his hands in his lap and waited. Yeah, he definitely preferred to warm up to bad news with making out first.

There was a long stretch of silence. She had been kind of broken up when she talked about Shelby, and it really hadn't happened much anyway. He had been particularly angry about a child support check from his dad that didn't show (like that was a shock) to enable his mom to pay for football; he had been halfway lit when he showed up at her house, ranting and raving about shitty parents.

And she had almost instantly put him to shame with her quiet words. At least he wanted you for a while.

He looked sideways at her, and she was just doing that staring thing she did. Rachel could be the most dramatic, most in-your-face person in the world, so when something left her speechless, it was a really big fucking deal. And for the record, it was terrible to be on the other end of that silence and he never wanted to be that dude again.

There was a sharp intake of breath and her soft, almost squeaky voice. "Thank you for telling me." She switched her gaze over to him. "Do you think you could go now?"

He raised an eyebrow. Had this been some other chick, some other crazy chick no less, he would've been out the door so fast he would've left a puff of smoke behind him. This time though, he just shook his head. "No."

She raised her hands up out of her lap to cover her face and choked out two or three sobs before he could pull her next to him. He really fucking hated it when girls cried. He didn't know where to put his hands. He had actually asked his mom once, but somehow the comfort his mom had wanted when she found out his dad was really not coming back—again—seemed a little different than what Rachel would require.

Again, he was all about comfort kissing. And sex. The friendshippy, good-guy stuff? That's what dopes like Hudson were for. Maybe he should call him. Except for while they were commiserating about shitty parent-related stuff, she had specifically said she never talked about it with Finn. Sure, he knew about the situation in part because Mercedes had blabbed it to everyone. Even an idiot like Finn could've spotted Rachel's visible flinch when Mercedes said it. But Rachel had blown it all off and continued on, seeming to be unaffected. There was no way he could call Finn because it would just embarrass her worse. And he would in no way be able to explain why he was here, why he'd felt the nagging need to tell her himself and in person. No, calling Finn would be bad.

About that moment, it dawned on him that she wasn't exactly friends with anyone else in glee club. He was pretty glad he'd refused to leave her alone. That relief still didn't answer the question about what to do with his hands. He settled for locking his wrists around her shoulders. Hands not touching her... he looked down to make sure there wasn't other body contact. Her head was pressed into his chest but that was it.

It was a good long while before she even moved. There was no way on earth she was comfortable and that's how he knew she was really upset. Plus, if he wasn't mistaken, his shirt was getting soaked. Crying enough tears to soak through a beater was pretty sad, really. He felt helpless. He was starting to get a little antsy, but there was no way he was going to move until she did. He relaxed his arms a little bit and brought a hand up to where her hair covered her ear.

He knew there were times in your life when you just wanted to hear that everything would be fine. He turned his head, hoping those would be the magic words to turn her off (and holy shit if he'd ever thought those terms with a woman in his arms before). He caught the smell of her shampoo, the perfect blend of fruity and flowery. It drew him in like a magnet and…really, Puck? Smelling her hair? Shit, this had eighth grade written all over it. He quickly pressed a kiss to the top of her head and got out of there. He was looking forward, his eyes landing on the television as his mind raced and tried to think of anything to help her. Oh, yeah. He'd forgotten his false promise.

"It's okay," he said, moving his hand slowly. "Everything will be okay."

The words felt as empty leaving as he was dead sure they felt hitting her ears. She didn't say anything and she still didn't move.

At some point, his leg started to go numb. That's when he wished one of her dads would come home soon. Not that he had any plans to go anywhere but because they would at least be able to take action. He didn't do so well with sitting quietly and waiting around. He had accepted this about himself, and thought maybe it was one of the reasons he and Rachel were getting a good start on a friendship—she had her own crazy brand of ADHD that seemed to go along with his. Even when he decided to teach her how to shoot a basketball. Even when miniature golfing with his little sister sounded 'fun, I guess.' And even tagging along once during her weekly voice lessons with the quad friend she visited. That guy had looked vaguely familiar.

Finally, he was unable to take it for a minute longer. When he spoke, though, his voice was low and his words were a hundred percent more sincere. "Tell me what to do?" He said. "I'll do anything."

Her breaths shuddered and she sat up and by God she looked the saddest he had probably ever seen anyone. She pulled her hands up to her face and wiped at her cheeks, although it didn't look like it did a whole lot of good. "I'm sorry. I'm so embarrassed."

He shook his head. "Hey, you know, you can lose your shit with me. God only knows I've done it to you enough the last little while."

"Do you need a drink? I'm just going to get some water."

"No, thanks. At least not the kind of drink you're offering." He flashed a quick grin. "But sit down, I'll go grab it."

She shook her head. "Honestly, Noah. Thank you but I'm perfectly capable."

And she was gone. He looked around the basement, desperate for an idea. The only thing he could come up with a movie. He sighed and went over to the wall mounted shelves that housed their very large and mostly musical DVD collection. And no, it hadn't escaped his attention that the entire bottom two shelves were dedicated to Rachel's various performances. But he looked for something a little closer to eye level. He almost wished he'd paid attention to some of the crap she made him watch. Then again, he was okay with not. When was he ever going to need to know this shit?

How about like, now, dumbass?

He sighed and ran a finger over the movies, finally landing on Funny Girl. He knew they had watched this and he really knew she had been happy because she sang along. With the damn movie. No, he never found that irritating.

Okay, so it was cute in its own way.

He pulled it off the rack and easily navigated the setup they had so that the movie was starting by the time she came back down stairs holding two bottles and a plate with something he knew there was no fucking way she'd ever eat.

"Aw, honey. You baked." He teased, but he couldn't fight the grin that sprung up when he saw her smile.

"My dad—the one with the heart problems no less—has some secret fetish for Pizza Rolls. It sounded like a snack you would appreciate," she offered. "And I am not your honey."

He laughed out loud, a real honest to God laugh, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. The kiss was made all the more nasty by the fact that he had grabbed one of the pocket snacks and eaten it before, but was still chewing it when his lips brushed against her face. She sat almost as far from him on the couch as she could get. But she wasn't crying and she was slipping him amused glances as he downed pizza rolls two at a time while she sipped her water.

The music from the surround sound speakers eventually caught her attention. "Funny Girl?"

He shrugged. "It was scary. I tried to think like you. Trust me, it will never ever happen again."

Instead of a comeback, all she offered was a very small "Thank you, Noah."

He thought he might be in the all clear because she stayed sitting on her side of the couch, watching the movie intently even as she mouthed along with the music, for almost the entire thing. She seemed shocked when he pointed to the screen during the song she'd whipped out of her back pocket at sectionals the previous year, and even smiled a little when he'd said it. She relaxed and lay down, using his thigh for a pillow, and he had to admit that it was actually kinda nice.

But then it started again. First it was a sniffle. She wiped at her nose. Then another sniffle. Then she dabbed at her eyes. By the time the title track (and he wanted to yank his own balls right off for even knowing which one it was) ended, her head was buried in his lap and she was crying again. This was more problematic with the hands. He hooked one arm over the back of the couch and let his other hand tickle idly with the hair that had fallen around her face. He watched her with a frown and then caught her words and felt his heart leap up into his throat again.

Why doesn't she want me?

He had to admit, it had crossed his mind that his dad had found a new family. What if he found out one day that he had? He would be fucking livid and murderous and…well, that's just to say it would all be very bad.

But even what he had was a little better, wasn't it? Sure, his dad had walked out—just fucking walked right out the door and never came back through it—but there were still ways he could imagine him. There were hypothetical situations where he thought if he just ran into his dad and found out something excusable had happened, maybe everything would just be okay. Rachel, instead, had just been shut down. She'd had to watch her mother, who actually looked like her and sounded like her in a lot of ways, tell her that no—she didn't want her, she wanted a brand new baby she could love from scratch.

And she couldn't tell her dads because the whole thing had violated a contract and they would get all sue-happy.

Even from the depths of the basement, he could hear the faint sound of the doorbell ringing.

It seemed mean to talk too loud. He didn't know why exactly, but…yeah. The room was kind of like a fucking musical tomb so he talked softly. "Rach…there's someone at the door."

She didn't move her head but she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Will you get rid of whoever it is?"

"Okay," he agreed. Because it seemed like the right thing to do, he leaned down and kissed the side of her head. "I'll be right back." He rose and she tipped up onto her knees.

"You don't have to stay," she said sadly. As he looked at her, he knew the terrible truth—no one had ever stayed. She had probably spent a lot of time crying by herself with some random and sappy musical playing, in this huge house and all alone. There was no way in hell he was going to be someone else who left her.

He rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back."

Fuck his luck, it was Finn at the door.

Finn looked confused.

"What are you doing here?" He looked around, his eyes scanning the inside of the house. "Where's Rachel?"

Puck sighed. It was really just a matter of time. "I can't answer your first question because it doesn't have an answer. Rachel is downstairs." Finn just nodded and stepped forward, but Puck held his hand out and it pressed against Finn's chest. "Wait up. She's pretty upset."

"Do I even want to know what you did?" Finn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, if I did it do you think I'd still be here? Witness protection or some shit." Puck flipped a glance over his shoulder but the house was still. "No, she just got some shitty news. But she told me to get rid of whoever was at the door."

Finn swallowed hard and nodded. He didn't want to walk in on the pacing, crying, dramatic, freaking out mess that was probably Rachel being upset. But he couldn't just leave, either. He frowned and proceeded into the house. Puck noticed a grocery sack in his hand.

"What's that?" He pointed to it even though Finn was walking in front of him.

"X-Box," Finn said simply, knowing what Puck had been asking about even as he turned to try and go upstairs toward Rachel's room.

"No, she's downstairs," Puck said. He ended up ahead of Finn but felt free to smirk. Teach me how to play video games. Finn wasn't as dumb as he sometimes seemed.

At the same time, something had changed between Puck and Rachel this afternoon. He wanted to make sure she was okay, but there was like a competitive edge to it. Fuck if he would let Hudson outdo him and earn the first smile from her this afternoon. No, he would work on it all day if he could see that grin and know his words hadn't broken her.

Rachel turned her head, the thunder of more than one set of footsteps on the stairs earning her attention. She had started the movie at Don't Rain on My Parade once he had gone, wanting something to take her mind off everything. Cribbing performance notes was the best thing she could think of, but she had no intention of going toward the title track yet. If she was really going to bury all the unchecked emotion she had about Shelby Corcoran, she would have to find some new material for sure.

Anyway, she turned her head to look at the door. She had been perfectly explicit, she thought, when she told Noah to send whoever was at the door away. She was a total mess. She was utterly embarrassed that even he had seen her like this, let alone anyone else. Her pride had taken too many hits today.

So when she saw Finn appear right behind Noah, her eyes widened and she turned around to face front. She heard the clunk of Finn setting something down on the coffee table and then he was standing right in front of her. She looked up, feeling small and totally pathetic where she was curled and slumped into the rich brown leather.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and low. She really did love his voice. The couch bounced as Noah reclaimed his former spot.

"He-hey," she offered unsteadily. Her eyes slid over to Noah and she had to admit, if she loved Finn's voice, she loved the concerned look on Noah's face even more. Maybe she wouldn't have to kill him for letting someone else in. She reached a hand up to wipe at her cheeks, certain her face was bright red and knowing there were still some errant tears escaping.

Finn watched her with a frown. "Puck said you got some bad news. You okay?"

She swallowed and looked up at him with her fingers still lingering on her face. "I'll be fine," she said simply. "What brings you by?"

He scowled but it wasn't angry. "I told you I'd be by after dinner so we could work on the video games thing. I tried to make sure it was still okay, but…"

She sat up a little straighter. "Oh…oh. What time is it?" She asked, sounding totally confused.

"A little after seven," Finn admitted. "But I can come back if you want. I thought your dads would be home by now."

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as she sniffled a little bit. She had a major headache coming on. "Umm…what day is it?"

"Wednesday," Finn offered simply.

Rachel frowned. "Oh, no they won't be home 'til later then."

Puck looked over at Finn. "Right. Well…I'm getting you something to eat then."

"No, really I'm…"

"Eating," he said firmly. "If I have to shove every bite into your big, big mouth. Got it?"

Finn looked at him uncertainly, wondering how Rachel might react to so much force. She just laughed and Finn visibly relaxed and then moved to start setting up the video game console as Puck pulled out his cell phone. Given the amount his mom worked and he was on his own with his little sister for dinner, he had the pizza place on speed dial and their menu memorized, so he whipped his phone out of his pocket. He bypassed the sext from Santana that had come in at some point and pressed the phone to his ear, still easily catching the remote Finn flung at him while he was placing their dinner order. He could've sworn the fucker was aiming for his head.

Rachel also caught hers easily and then she scooted to the middle of the long couch, leaving Finn the spot on the end.

He clicked the end button his phone and looked over at her. "Food will be here in 45 minutes. You're buying, right?" He teased, even though his family had a tab with the pizza place.

"We can turn it into a bet and you can buy when I destroy you at this video game."

Wait, what? Rachel Berry was trying her hand at trash talk. He looked down and laughed.

"Okay, but you'll have to turn your controller around first. But nice try."

Finn was getting settled on the couch as the main screen theme for Madden picked up and started issuing through the speakers.

"You brought a football game?" Rachel asked. "I thought you wanted me to learn how to blow something up."

Finn laughed as he grabbed the controller she was clutching like a lifeline and turned it around so the buttons were facing up in her grip. "You've gotta walk before you can run."

"I thought you ran to play football," she asked, looking between the two boys and looking totally confused.

"Shit, dude," Puck said, looking over her head at Finn. "We have our work cut out for us, don't we?"