Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you for the feedback you guys gave. I'm ecstatic that I didn't screw the whole thing up.

This chapter is probably going to be anticlimactic… but it's transitory, I promise, there's good stuff ahead.

So… Funny story (you can skip this if you want, I'm just dying to tell someone this, and you guys are probably the only who will get why it's funny ) I was eating lunch with a bunch of Marines today (I work on a military base) and since the Department of Defense seems to think that and YouTube aren't "work related" and therefore blocks them, I was checking out your comments on my phone. I also pulled up the Canadian Promo for Mash-Up (cause you guys have WAAAY juicer promos) and saw the scene with Puck's mother. "Crap" I thought to myself, "I was so far off base with her it's not even funny, that totally messes up my last four chapters" Then I realized that the entire table had gone silent. Sooo… yeah, apparently I said it out loud, which led to a long and embarrassing explanation about "Glee", fan fiction, and my story.

To which one of my darling friends replied, "But you're a geek…"

I was baffled.

"You know, like a science and numbers geek" he continued. (Which I admit, I am) "Not, like, a drama and writing nerd."

This prompted a 15 minute discussion about the varying degrees of nerdiness, and geekiness, and where, on this scale, my writing fan fiction fell. (It was all good natured)

After all of this, one guy turns to the other and says "Are we going to play WOW tonight?"

And I'm the geek??

P.S. Sunny… the semi-MSCL reference is for you.

Rachel was lying on the bed, staring up at the look on Puck's face. His brows were furrowed, as if he were deep in thought, and his mouth was set in a grim straight line. He looked so serious that she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"You are. After all this," she said, waving her hand between them, and gesturing to the bed, "after everything that just happened, the one thing you have to know, is what type of underwear I'm wearing?"

"Yeah, so?"

"It's just an absurd question… it's ridiculous…" she said, fighting back the laughter that threatened to erupt again.

He shrugged, "It's important."

It was absurd, not just the question, but the entire situation. She glanced at the clock on his dresser. It was 1:45AM and she was lying in Noah Puckerman's bed, wearing his clothes. Not to mention that he was also sitting on said bed, shirtless, asking her about her underwear. Oh, and the fact that they had almost…

Oh, God, she thought, she had almost.., they had almost… and they would have, if he hadn't stopped it. Why had he stopped it? she wondered, because she wouldn't have. She had known it was wrong, that it was too much, but on some level she'd still wanted it. Whatever his reasons were, she was thankful for them.

"Why is so important?"

"Because… "he said, "because it just is."

"But…"

"Look," he said,"you want to take this slow, right?"

She nodded.

"Which means, chances are, I'm not getting any tonight, right?"

"Pretty much zero chance of that happening."

"And probably not tomorrow either, right?"

"It's highly doubtfully," she said smiling.

"Right, so pretty much you're saying it could be awhile, like one or two weeks or something, before I get any."

"Umm… maybe longer?" she said.

"Longer?" he said in shock,

She glared at him.

"Right, right… so longer then… cool" he said quickly, with a pained expression. "So anyway, if I have to wait… longer, then I need to know."

She looked at him quizzically. "I don't understand."

"Jesus, Rach… do I have to spell it out?"

"Apparently," she said with annoyance.

"If I have to wait, then I'm going to need, uh… inspiration, for… well, you know."

"No, obviously, I don't."

"For later…"

She had no earthly clue what he was talking about, though it was clear from the look on his face that she should.

"For later, for when you aren't here… So I can, uh, you know…"

"No, I don't…" and then the light bulb clicked on. "Oh! You mean… umm…"

"Exactly. Umm. Though personally I prefer to call it 'self-love'," he said grinning.

She snorted. "Really? Is that why you're so egotistical? You must do it a lot then."

He shrugged, "I'm a guy Berry."

Again, this was absurd. They were not having this conversation.

"So why do you need to know what my panties look like? Can't you just imagine them?"

"I could," he said smiling, "I have, actually, but it'd be better to know."

He was serious. She couldn't believe he was serious. He'd… she couldn't even bring herself to say it in her head. He'd done that, while thinking about her panties?

"When?" she asked.

"When what?"

"When did you imagine them, and um…?"

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. This was actually kind of fun.

"You want me to name every time?"

She sat up. "More than once?" she asked incredulously.

He shrugged.

She smiled. "Really? That's kind of sweet."

He laughed. "Berry, you are the only girl I know who would think that was sweet."

He reached over and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her.

"But it means you were thinking about me… albeit obscenely." she said laughing.

"I was," he conceded, "I do, but I blame that on you."

"On me? Why?" she asked.

"The skirts, Berry, the ridiculously tiny skirts."

She leaned back against him, and rested her head on his chest. This was so… normal, well, maybe not normal, but it was comfortable. How could this person be Puck? Puck had spent her entire freshman year, and so far, most of her sophomore year generally making her life a living hell. The Puck she knew was a jerk, a bully, and what had Kurt called him? A man-whore? Why on earth would he act like that, when it was obvious he was capable of being so much more? It baffled her.

If she was being honest with herself, she thought, she'd admit that it worried her too, because if he could go from being Puck, her tormentor, to Noah, the boy with his arms wrapped around her, in such a short period of time, then it was entirely plausible that he could switch back just as quickly.

He shifted his weight, leaned back against the headboard and pulled her so that she was sitting between his legs, her back to his chest. He dropped his chin onto her shoulder and she leaned her cheek against his.

"Those weren't the only times, you know," he said hesitantly, as if he were struggling with the words.

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"I thought about you other times, not just when I was…"

She was going have to make an appointment with the cardiologist if he kept making her heart skip beats like this.