Breakfast of Champions. It is often said that what you eat at breakfast sustains you through the day. Occasionally, what you discuss at breakfast may change the course of your life.
Taking everything into consideration that has transpired on Glee, this is how I would like to see the storyline evolve.
Ryan Murphy, are you listening?
Thanks to Mr. Murphy and the "Glee" creative team for their characters. The story is mine. Hope you enjoy.
Santana Lopez sat on the sofa in the loft she shared with Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel in New York. She was alone, talking into her cell phone…
"Yeah, everything's cool…How're you doin'? Mmhmm…Yeah…I think she's comin' around; she went on a coffee date with some NYADA douche…No, he's not right for her, any more than 'Finessa' was…Really…No, I didn't know he was seeing someone before he died…she sure didn't…two months?...Yeah, the whole 'Funny Girl' thing seems a little fishy to me…No, really…it seems to be taking forever, and she still has time for school and work and singing with the band…no…she's never mentioned anybody in particular, just the director and that lame-o who's the male lead…Yeah, that's what I think too, 'not Kosher'..."
Santana grinned slyly at the last remark and appeared to be listening intently before picking up the conversation again. "Yeah, I agree…Wait, you'll come? Sweet! No, It'll be our secret…Yep; they'll be totally surprised…Pick you up at Grand Central?...OK, text me the details…You too, 'fly boy'."
A look of self-satisfaction crossed her face; she was about to pull a monumental surprise on her roommates…and possibly save Rachel from herself in the process.
Rachel, Kurt, and Santana had all opted to stay in New York for the summer. Rachel had decided to take summer classes, working toward completing her degree program sooner and being able to pursue her Broadway dreams full-time. "Funny Girl" was still in rehearsals, although Rachel had begun to question the director's methods. He had her singing "My Man" (Barbra Streisand version, not Fanny Brice version) when that song wasn't part of the score. They had yet to do a complete run through, and her male lead's attitude became more supercilious with every passing day.
Kurt was working both at Vogue-dot-com and the diner, as well as coordinating the gigs for his band "Pamela Lansbury". And Santana…she had no desire to be in Lima any longer than necessary. They had planned returning to Lima during July 4th week, but that was more than a month away.
"Isn't it a little early for Santana to be out and about?" Rachel queried, looking up from her theater history textbook.
"Maybe..." Kurt replied evasively as he focused on his laptop, continuing his latest assignment for the website.
Rachel asked, "Do you have any idea where she may have gone?" but before Rachel had a chance to speculate, they heard the key turning in the lock and, since it was Santana, didn't bother to look up, continuing with their work.
"Hello, Bitches!" Santana exclaimed. "Look what the cat dragged in…well, actually bus." They heard the sound of a duffel bag being dropped on the ground. Kurt looked toward the door first, crying out, "O.M.G…it's Puck!"
Rachel's head snapped up, and she looked back over her shoulder, only for her eyes to instantly well up with tears. "Noah!" she softly called out, rising up from the sofa to greet him. Her pace quickened with each step, and she was practically running by the time she reached the doorway.
Puck and Rachel embraced; he literally swept her off her feet and spun her around, hugging each other tightly as the tears streamed down her face and onto his…uniform. Puck placed Rachel gently on the ground, wiping away her tears with the pads of his thumbs.
"Noah, let me take a look at you," Rachel requested, momentarily pulling away and giving her former teammate the once-over. "The uniform does you justice, Noah…you look so…so grown up. I can't tell you how proud I am of you."
Puck grinned broadly, replying, "Thanks, Rach. That means a lot, 'specially coming from you. I figured it was time to stop screwin' around and do something with my life."
Santana had joined Kurt by this time, and the two cast knowing glances at each other. "'Puckleberry' 2.0, bitches," Santana whispered to Kurt, and he nodded in reply, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
Puck and Rachel walked over to the sofa hand in hand, joining Santana and Kurt.
"Hey, Kurt," Puck greeted him, shaking hands that evolved into a hug.
The three roommates seated themselves on the sofa and Puck dropped into the chair. All eyes were focused on him as Rachel politely inquired, "Noah, how is the Air Force treating you? Do you know what you'll be doing?"
Puck grinned, replying, "Well, 'Basic' was down in San Antonio, and it was a frickin' intense eight weeks." He paused to glance at his friends, grinning as he realized that the next revelation would surprise them tremendously. "My eyes aren't good enough to fly a plane, but they give all 'a the recruits aptitude tests. I scored off the charts in the math parts, and they recommended that I concentrate in computers and engineering."
He noticed that although Santana and Kurt bore similar incredulous expressions, Rachel was smiling proudly. She interjected, "See, Noah, I always told you that you were smart. All you had to do was apply yourself."
"Touché, Berry; looks like you were right, after all," he teased. "Anyway, you're not gonna believe this," he continued. "I have a three-month training program in Biloxi, Mississippi, and after that's done, I'm being transferred to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, which is just outside 'a Dayton, Ohio. Tried my whole frickin' life to get out of Ohio, and of all the bases in the world, that's where I'll be stationed."
"Why there, Noah?" Rachel gently prodded.
Noah explained, "Wright-Patterson is one of the largest bases in the country, and they specialize in computers and technical intelligence and shi…things like that. And I'll be able to apply my training when I'm discharged and go to college."
"College, Puckerman? I thought 'school was for suckers'," Santana jibed, air-quoting his oft-repeated expression.
Puck chuckled, replying, "Yeah, I did say that; looks like I was wrong about that, too."
"Have you decided what you want to do after your service is completed, Noah?" Rachel asked curiously.
"Yeah, are you gonna teach math or something?" Santana interjected.
"Actually, I found out I can apply my training in music production. That's what I wanna do; become a music producer, maybe write songs on the side. I heard Steinhardt has an awesome program," he explained.
"Steinhardt? As in NYU-Steinhardt?" Rachel curiously pondered.
"Yeah, that's the one, Rach," he answered, smiling as their eyes met. "Another three years or so, and I'll be joining you guys in the 'Big Apple'."
Santana and Kurt were now both grinning impishly and giving each other knowing looks as Rachel sat, smiling shyly and looking at Puck with a new-found respect…and that old chemistry that she had always kept tamped down in deference to Finn was now resurfacing, causing her to blush lightly as Puck smiled back bemusedly.
Doing her best to gain her composure, Rachel politely inquired, "Noah, you must be starving after your long trip. Would you like some breakfast?"
Puck grinned, replying, "That sounds great, Rach. What I'd really like to do first, though, is take a shower and wash the road off'a me."
Kurt stood up (having set his laptop down), instructing, "OK, Puck, follow me. Bathroom's over there, and I'll get you some fresh towels."
The boys left, leaving Rachel to set about making breakfast while Santana looked on from the sofa. "Well, chica, I'd love to hang out, but I'm meeting Dani for coffee in a few. See ya' later," Santana advised as she hastily grabbed her purse and made a beeline for the door.
"Wait…Santana?" Rachel worriedly called after her.
"Sorry, babe; gotta hustle. I'm leavin' Puck to you and 'Lady Hummel'. Later!" she tossed out over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.
Rachel sighed and turned back to her waffle batter, referring to the cookbook on her right as she carefully added ingredients. Kurt emerged from assisting Puck with clean towels and showing him where to put his things, entering the kitchen and momentarily startling Rachel, who was intent on cooking an edible breakfast.
"Rachel," Kurt said quietly, announcing his presence, suddenly jolting Rachel back to reality.
"Yes, Kurt?" she replied, inquiring, "Would you like turkey bacon with your waffles?"
Kurt grinned; he had been in on the planning since first discussing the matter with Santana (apparently no one within a five-mile radius can hide a juicy secret from Kurt) several weeks prior. "No, thanks, Diva; I've gotta run over to the office and meet with Isabel about something. I'll see you later." As Rachel stood, mouth slightly agape and a startled expression on her face, Kurt kissed her cheek, commenting, "I'm leaving our Mr. Puckerman in your more than capable hands. I'll see you later. Bye!"
"Goodbye, Kurt," a slightly dazed Rachel replied, turning back to her cooking and wondering what had happened to turn her day completely upside down.
When Puck emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans, he was greeted by the aroma of Rachel's breakfast offering. "Berry, it smells amazing in here; what's on the menu?" he teased.
Rachel blushed at his sincere (if slightly awkwardly worded) compliment, replying, "We have whole grain waffles, maple syrup, fresh fruit, and turkey bacon for the carnivores among us…that would be you. The waffles were made with real eggs, by the way. Oh…and I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Please sit down, Noah."
A smiling Rachel gestured to the small bistro table that served as their kitchen table and Noah asked, "Is there anything that I can do to help, Rach?"
"Thanks, Noah; if you'd fill the mugs, I'd appreciate it, and I'll have the food ready in a minute," she replied.
Puck did as requested and sat down as Rachel brought him a plate with some bacon on it, which he retrieved from her. She placed a waffle on the plate, turned around to serve herself another, helped herself to some fruit, and sat down opposite him. They ate for a brief moment in companionable silence, before Puck exclaimed, "This is awesome, Rach; thank you!"
"You're welcome, Noah," she replied. "There's plenty of batter, so I'll make you more waffles when you're ready." Noah grinned in response, nodding as he enjoyed his repast. He felt unusually comfortable with the domesticity of their immediate situation. It was something he had never shared with a woman outside of his family circle, and it seemed somehow appropriate that it was Rachel rather than anyone else.
They ate for another minute or so before Rachel broke the silence, and she quietly asked, "Was she pretty, Noah?"
Puck looked at Rachel curiously, responding, "Who?"
Rachel replied in a quiet voice, "I know, Noah; Santana told me."
Immediate understanding flashed across Puck's face, and he continued, "Oh…her?…yeah, I guess she's pretty, Rach. What difference does that make?"
Eyes downcast, Rachel sadly concurred, "Nothing, I suppose. It's a moot point, now, anyway, but…well…I never could compete with girls like Quinn in that regard."
Puck put down his fork, looking at Rachel incredulously. "Rachel, in the first place, you are fuckin' gorgeous, and don't let anybody tell you different," he adamantly insisted. "In the second place, did you actually think Finn would not look at other girls? That's just natural; you can certainly understand. After all, you dated that Brady guy…"
"His name is 'Brody', Noah, not that it matters, either," Rachel quietly corrected him. "You're right; I don't know what I was thinking…I would live my life, have my success, and then give it all up to be a 'soccer mom'? Just so I could be with Finn Hudson? What the heck was I thinking? I told Mr. Schue that Finn was my 'person'…that I would come back to Lima, go to Finn's classroom, and say 'I'm home'." Rachel glanced up at Puck, her face a mix of emotions as she asked, "What would Finn have said in return, Noah?" Rachel continued in her best Finn impression, "'Um, hi, Rach; hey, it's good to see you. Why don't you come over for dinner on Sunday and visit with the wife and kids'…" Returning to her own voice, she concluded with an agonized sigh, "That's what he would have said, Noah, or something to that effect."
Puck reached out for Rachel's hand and took it in his, holding it reassuringly. "You were thinking like a girl still in love with her high school football hero," he tactfully explained. "Nobody should have to give up something they worked for their whole life, something as natural to them as breathing, just because somebody else has different goals and ambitions. Look at Patti Lupone, Barbra Streisand, Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts; hell, even Brittany Spears had kids and managed to keep their careers." Puck squeezed her hand and looked her in the eyes, which were beginning to well up with tears.
"You deserve somebody who supports your dreams, Rachel, and so did Finn," Puck explained. "He began to realize that when he started college and met new people, and he was able to move past his high school romance. I think you woulda come to the same conclusion eventually, too. His dying kinda brought everything to the forefront all at once. I miss him every day."
Rachel had begun crying openly, albeit silently. Puck pushed out his chair, stood up, and walked (the two steps) over to where Rachel was seated. "Com'ere, Rach," he beckoned, arms outstretched. Rachel stood up and found herself enveloped in Puck's strong arms, her body wracked with sobs. Puck gently led her over to the sofa where they sat down as he rocked her gently, consoling her through her grieving, not only over the loss Finn, the person, but Finn, the dream that could never come to fruition.
Crying finally abated, Puck tenderly wiped her remaining tears away. He gave her an endearing half-smile and teased, "Ya' know, Berry, we never did finish our breakfast…"
Rachel, ever the consummate hostess, immediately sat up straighter, apologizing, "Oh, Noah, I'm so sorry. Let me make some fresh waffles; it'll only take a couple of minutes."
"That sounds about perfect, Rachel," Puck admitted, kissing her on the forehead. "Now, go, woman, and make me some breakfast!"
Rachel giggled at his teasing and stood up, hurrying off to the kitchen. "Spill out your coffee mug, Noah, and help yourself to more; the pot's still hot," she advised.
Once the fresh waffles were plated, Rachel acknowledged, "Thank you, Noah. I don't know what it is, but I've always been able to talk with you. I don't think I could have discussed this with anybody, not even Kurt."
Noah put down his fork for a moment, agreeing, "It's always been the same with me, Rach. You always managed to see the best in me, even when I didn't believe you. It's, like, you give me permission to be myself. No pretense, no 'Puck'; just 'Noah'. Thank you for that, Rachel." He smiled tenderly at Rachel, who looked down, blushing and smiling shyly, busying herself with her food.
Rachel's gaze eventually strayed from her plate to the young man sitting across from her. As he took a sip of coffee their eyes met, and he teased, "What? Take a picture, Berry, it'll last longer."
Rachel smiled, reassuring him, "I wasn't staring, Noah, honestly; I was just thinking how mature you've become. It suits you."
"Thanks, Rach," he accepted her compliment. "You've changed, too. You're more grown up, and you look smokin' hot…not that you didn't rock those knee socks, but New York definitely becomes you."
Rachel giggled, as she replied, "Thanks, Noah…I think."
Rachel paused for a moment, drinking her coffee and contemplating how to word a question that had been on her mind for a very long time.
"Noah?" she queried.
"Yeah, Rach?" he responded, looking at her curiously.
Rachel took a deep breath and began, "Back in junior year, I thought that we were starting to become better friends…" Rachel averted her eyes, blushing, and admitted quietly, "…Maybe even something more." She gently readjusted her sight line and looked him squarely in the eyes, continuing, "Suddenly, you withdrew completely. You barely spoke to me for the longest time. Noah, whatever happened? If there was something I did to hurt you…"
"There was nothing you did, Rach. Finn told me to leave you alone; that if I didn't, I wasn't being a loyal friend, violatin' the 'bro code' or some shit."
Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing, and her incredulity was reflected in her expression. "Finn and I weren't even together, then. I can't believe he could be that selfish…" she exasperatedly stated.
"Trust me, he was, and he could be," Puck assured her. "He was insecure and jealous, and even if he didn't want to be with you at the time, he didn't want me to be with you even more."
"I'm so sorry, Noah," Rachel apologized. "If I had known, I would have given him a piece of my mind and, rest assured, we never would have gotten back together. Finn was way out of line. You can't dictate somebody else's relationships. That's not how you treat people, especially when you call them your friend."
Puck was surprised by Rachel's vehement admonition of Finn's action, and more so the admission that she never would have reconciled with him. "Rach, does that mean I actually would've stood a chance with you?" he cautiously asked, almost afraid of the response, but determined to find out.
Rachel smiled, assuring him, "Of course, Noah, why not? You always said that 'it's natural'…" He grinned, chiming in with her as they both said, "We're just a couple of hot lookin' Jews!", and breaking out in laughter as they completed his oft-repeated phrase.
Noah took another sip of his quickly becoming-tepid coffee, considering whether or not to take a risk and ask that which was now on the tip of his tongue, begging to be released into the conversation. Deciding to forge ahead, he made eye contact with Rachel, smiled hopefully, and asked, "Maybe there's too much 'water under the bridge', but is there still a chance for us? I mean, I know there's the distance and everything, but we could text and Skype and…"
Rachel covered Puck's hand (that had been resting on the table) with hers, and with a beaming smile, interrupted him, "Noah, I would be honored to give 'us' a chance…that is," she added a caveat with an impish grin, "…if you can handle an admittedly high-maintenance girlfriend such as myself…"
"Bring it!" Puck interjected softly, almost shyly, as he stood up, moved to Rachel, and quickly pulled her to her feet, immediately enveloping her in a hug and planting a tender kiss on her lips. Rachel intrinsically reacted by wrapping her arms around him, hands resting on his shoulders, and fervently responded, parting her lips and enabling the kiss to mutually deepen.
Eventually, it became necessary to break for air, and the couple stood together wrapped in their reciprocal embrace, heartbeats surprisingly in synch, and Rachel's head resting lightly on Puck's broad chest. "Are ya' sure about this, Baby?" he softly queried.
"Very sure, Noah," Rachel reassured him. "I guess I'll be visiting Ohio a lot more often than I'd anticipated." She looked up and winked, reminding him, "I'm sure my dads will appreciate seeing me more regularly, anyway."
"And I'll come to New York as often as I can," he promised her. "I want to be here for your opening night…all your opening nights."
Rachel smiled up at Puck; emotions overtook both of them, and they resumed kissing. Rachel sighed, "Ooooh, Noah…" just as the lock turned in the door and Santana and Kurt entered the loft, grinning from ear to ear upon viewing their friends shamefacedly pull apart, arms still wrapped around each other.
"Well, Puckerman, it looks like you've made up for lost time," Santana sardonically teased. "Will I still need to give up my bed for the weekend, or does Berry have a better alternative?"
Rachel blushed crimson, burying her face in Puck's chest; he chuckled, replying, "I think she may have a couple 'a thoughts on the subject…" He looked tenderly at Rachel, who nodded her head, a sheepish grin spreading on her still-blushing face.
Santana and Kurt looked on bemusedly as Puck and Rachel, arms about each other's waists, moved toward the kitchen to clean up after their shared breakfast. Kurt turned to Santana and remarked, "I don't know what was in those waffles, but remind me to get the recipe for the next time Blaine's in town."