Rachel Berry was a royal pain in his ass. Even after he had stunned her by turning her smarty pants logic around on her, it had still taken twenty minutes and two phone calls to Brittany to convince her that he hadn't willingly kissed Santana. Now, after grudgingly admitting he hadn't done anything wrong, she was still sitting there with a pouty look on her face and her arms crossed across her chest.

"That still doesn't change anything, Noah," she said.

"What the hell do you want from me?" he asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I want you to admit that this whole thing is a preposterous notion," she said in frustration.

He didn't even know what preposterous meant, or notion for that matter. Why couldn't she just talk like a 16 year old?

"What thing?"

"This!" she said, motioning her hand between them, "Us. The idea that we could ever be attracted to one another. Things like this don't work, not outside of Hollywood anyway."

"Huh," he said, looking her up and down, "never would have pegged you for a coward, Berry."

"What is that supposed to mean? Are you implying that I'm displaying a lack of courage by not engaging in a fruitless course of action? That is not cowardice! It's simply having a realistic view on the limitations of the high school social strata."

Puck sighed and wondered if she had one of those "Word-a-Day" calendars his mom had bought him last Christmas. He bet she did, and he would put money on the fact that hers wasn't still on January first like his was.

"What did you say to Finn?" he asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

Puck loved the look on her face when he caught her off guard.

"Finn," he said slowly, "What did you say to him?"

"Stop trying to change the subject!"

Puck knew if he waited long enough, she'd answer. Rachel Berry did not handle silence well. She stared at him expectantly, but he held his ground.

"It's none of your business what we discussed," she said tersely.

He waited patiently, maintaining his silence.

"Fine," she said, "we talked about our relationship with one another. Specifically, I wanted to clarify the nature of our relationship."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And did you?"

"Did I what?" she asked.

"Nice try Rach, but that's my move."

She glared at him. The annoyance of being called on her avoidance tactic was written all over her face.

"We, that is Finn and I, came to the mutual agreement that it was in our best interest to maintain a purely platonic relationship."

Puck raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"We decided just to be friends," she said curtly.

"We?" he asked doubtfully.

"Okay, fine, you win. I decided."

"Why?"

"Why what? Why did I decide that?"

He nodded. "Three days ago you were blubbering like a baby over him. Why just friends? What happened?"

Brittany had told Puck about her conversation with Rachel when she came back to the party. He knew what Rachel had told Finn, he just wanted to make her say it.

Rachel slumped lower in her seat. The red sweatshirt was ten times too big for her small frame, but Puck thought she looked adorable. The idea of her wearing his clothes gave him a strange thrill. Of course, he thought, it would be even better if she didn't have anything on at all.

His intentions had, surprisingly, been entirely honorable when he had offered to let her change. She had been shaking so hard, and her lips had been a freaky bluish-gray color that scared him. Puck wasn't a saint though, he'd been lying when he said he wouldn't look. Nobody had that much will power, he reasoned. Even when he turned his head, he could see her reflection in the driver's side window. He hadn't exactly been thinking clearly when he turned around and pulled the wet pink mess off of her. When he got a glimpse of the white lace bra with little pink ribbons woven throughout it, Puck hadn't been able to think at all.

Whoever sat around and invented those things was a genius, he decided. The sight of her tan skin against the white lace combined with the string of white pearls nestled in between her breasts had made his heart stop. It's not like he hadn't seen a girl in a bra before, or a girl out of a bra for that matter, he had. Plenty of times. But for some reason, when he had looked down at her earlier, it had been just as thrilling as being under the middle school bleachers when he was 13 and getting Tricia Johnson to take her shirt off for the first time.

He had initially intended to offer her the black mesh shorts he had pulled out his practice bag, but since he didn't want to risk becoming a drooling idiot, he dismissed the idea. Still though, he wondered if her panties were all lace and ribbon too...

"You," she said softly, breaking into his daydream.

He smiled at her.

"Oh really? Me?"

"Yes, you. There are you happy now?"

He put a finger to his chin, as if carefully considering her statement.

"Hmm..."

"Cut it out, Noah," she said, feeling the blush creep into her cheeks.

"So you told him you liked me?"

She glared at him. "I just said that, didn't I"

"Yes," he agreed happily, "you did. So then what's this crap about the stratosphere?"

"Social strata..." she said, trying to quell her laughter.

"Yeah... that crap. If you like me, what has that got to with anything?"

She sighed. "It means that even if I like you, the pressures exerted by our peers to conform to our accepted social roles would serve to make a romantic relationship between us highly improbable, if not down right impossible."

"Besides," she added, averting her eyes, "none of that even matters if the feelings I have for you aren't reciprocated.

His face grew tight as he struggled to figure out what the hell all that meant.

"Are you trying to make me feel stupid? English please..."

She paused, and then looked back at him nervously.

"No, I'm sorry..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean..."

"Then what did you mean?" he asked.

"I...I was trying to ask..." she stuttered, her voice catching on the words. She looked momentarily lost and she squeezed her eyes shut. Taking a deep breath, she pulled her shoulders back, and stared him straight in the eye.

"I'm trying to ask you if you like me too," she said firmly.

Puck opened his mouth, but the words were stuck in his throat. He could tell by the look on her face that he was screwing this up royally. His mind raced, searching for the right answer. Fuck it, he thought angrily, go with what you know.

Reaching over, he ran his fingers over her soft cheek. He slid across the cab, sweeping the bag to the floor in the process, until they were inches apart, and wrapped his other hand in her wet hair. Gently, he pulled her mouth to his, and kissed her softly. When he felt her respond he pulled away slightly, and raised his lips to her forehead. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her tightly, resting his chin on the crown of her head.

"Is that a yes?" she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

Puck laughed, and pulled back so he could see her face.

"What do you think?"