Thank God everything happened on a Friday night and he didn't have to really face Rachel the whole weekend. They ate dinner awkwardly, with Emily asking a whole bunch of questions and interrogating Rachel like she smuggled drugs in her colon or something equally as incriminating. He ended up driving Rachel home because he wasn't about to face her fathers at his own house. Especially since he didn't want them to know where he lived. He had no choice but to bring Emily along since his mother was working late and to be quite honest, he wasn't sure how to be alone with Rachel. Soldiers had to know when to retreat and wave their little white flag in surrender and it seemed like his plan was falling apart because this nagging voice kept creeping up on him. When the fuck did he get a conscience?

Rachel looked a little crestfallen when he took her home and didn't even offer her to walk her to her door. It didn't help matters when he saw one of her fathers peer out the living room window and even though it was dark out and he was at a distance, he could see a clear look of disapproval. Puck didn't have a good track record with parents. Well, mothers loved him, but that's another story for a different day. Then as he was pulling out of her driveway, Rachel watched on until he was out of view and he could see her in his rearview mirror. Not to mention all Emily could chatter on about was Rachel and how pretty her singing voice was.

"She could sing in Disney movies. And her hair is so pretty, do you think she can come over and do my hair one day? And sing to us? Can I take Rachel to show-and-tell? I like her, Noah."

Oh, Jesus Christ. It was a good thing his mother wasn't home when he brought Rachel over because then he really wouldn't hear the end of it. A week of hanging out with Rachel Berry was turning him into… a person. Not that he wasn't a person before, but he knew what he wanted and how to get it. Things were cut and dry and everyone fit into a perfect, packaged stereotype. It was all so simple before he actually started to get to know her. After all, she was a person too. Maybe if he kept his distance, she'd go back to hating him and he could go back to throwing slushies in her face. Except not that last part; that was pretty cruel now that he thought about it. Oh, God, she was making him think about things; things other than sex, women, boobs, football, MILFs, and getting even. He hadn't even truly kissed her!

Monday morning at school, he walked past her as if he didn't know her or acknowledge that she was there. Of course, he did notice that her mouth was ajar, like she was about to say something to him, but he dodged her before she could utter the words. That afternoon, he didn't meet her in the auditorium. He stood her up.

Rachel glanced at the time on her cell phone. He was a half hour late. Letting out a deep sigh, she set her phone on the piano and let her fingers dance over the keys. Did she do something wrong? Was he ashamed that he came so close to kissing her? Was it her breath? Did she say something wrong at dinner? Why was she so upset that he had ignored her? It was behavior that was to be expected of him and it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. There was a still a slushie stained shirt sitting in her room that didn't belong there, but it got her through the weekend.

When Rachel got home, she set up the camcorder on her tripod and got ready to record a new video for her MySpace. Her mouth was open, but no song came pouring out. Usually, she was bursting until she could sing all the pain away. The point of the matter was that her heart wasn't into it today. It wasn't into it on Tuesday or Wednesday either.

Puck walked past the auditorium on both days and peered into one of the window slits on the door to see if she was there. There was a solemn Rachel, playing a tune on the piano. Both times, he wanted to walk in and act like nothing happened. Both times, he walked away and figured he was doing her a favor.

Thursday, 3:30 PM. Rachel was prompt for Glee rehearsal as usual and felt a little elated when Finn smiled at her, only to have Quinn smack him in the arm to draw his attention back to her. Puck finally acknowledged her today when he glanced in her direction, but Rachel was indifferent and turned away. What bothered him the most was the fact that she was back at making googly eyes at Finn when Quinn had her back turned. They went over the new routine and Puck didn't miss a step. In fact, even Kurt made a comment about what a turnaround it was from the week prior.

"Thanks to Rachel."

Finn, along with the rest of the group, shot each other looks like Puck had said something completely out of this world while Rachel shrugged and tried her best to change the subject.

"Mr. Schue, I'd like to take this moment to commend my fellow peers on a job well done. You all were exceptional today," she applauded them and they were quick to dismiss Puck's previous comment.

That night, Rachel said goodnight to her fathers and decided it was best to turn in earlier than usual. That way, she could get an extra hour in the morning to work out on her elliptical machine before school. It'd reenergize and reinvigorate her. Pat, pat. Her head whirled around as she tried to make out where that sound was coming from. Pat, pat. This time, it was a little clearer and she followed the sound to her window. Pat, pat. Opening the window, she looked down below to find Puck there, a fistful of pebbles in his hand. One flew right past her head, landing on her dresser.

"Noah! What are you doing?" She hissed from above, holding onto the window ledge.

"I need to talk to you!" He responded in a hushed tone, but loud enough so that Rachel could hear him without her dads poking their heads out or worse… calling the cops.

"Oh, so now you want to talk? Now that there's no one around to witness it? I'll have none of it! Go home before daddy comes out with his musket!"

Now, if it were someone like Finn, they'd run scared shitless. Puck, on the other hand, tried not to double over in laughter. "A what? A musket? Isn't that what the pilgrims used to shoot turkeys for Thanksgiving? I'm supposed to be scared of a musket?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, glaring down at him. "It's an antique; he's a collector—never mind, just beat it."

"I'm not leaving until we talk. I'm coming up," he warned, grabbing a hold of the trellis on the side of the house that led up to her window.

"What? No! You're going to fall and crack your head open, Noah!" Rachel's voice was a little above a whisper now. More like a loud, frantic scream.

"Could you be any louder? Jesus. Wake up the whole fucking neighborhood, why don't you?" Puck paid her no mind and kept on climbing. He was halfway there until he heard a third voice coming from Rachel's room.

"Rachel, honey," one of her fathers cracked her bedroom door open and peered into the room. "Is everything okay? I thought I heard voices."

"No, daddy, everything's fine. Really. Just doing some vocal exercises before I go to bed."

Puck clutched onto the trellis, hoping to God that her father would go away soon before he lost his grip and fell. It was a pretty steep fall.

"Okay, pumpkin. Wait," her father now stepped into the room and darted straight to the window, leaving a panic stricken Rachel to wonder if tonight was the last she'd see of Puck for the rest of her life. Thankfully, her father just shut the window, closing the curtains for good measure. "It's chilly out; you don't want to catch a cold and lose your beautiful voice, do you? You know the neighbors won't take too kindly to you singing at this hour either, don't forget about the lawsuit."

Rachel felt a huge sense of relief when her father closed the window without noticing Puck hanging from the side of their home. "Right, the lawsuit. It completely escaped me. What was I thinking? Thanks, daddy. Okay, goodnight!" She ushered him out of her room, practically pushing him out into the hallway. Closing the door, she let out a huge breath she had been holding since her father walked in. Good thing he didn't find Puck. Oh, God, he was still out there. Running over to the window, she opened it once more, backing away so he could climb in. "Shh!" She urged him not to make any noise; he almost fell into her room with a thud.

Puck dusted off some of the leaves that had gotten stuck to him from his climb up the trellis and paused to give Rachel a look. "Lawsuit?"

"Not important," she held a hand up to keep him from asking any further questions. "Look, you're here, so talk. The sooner you wrap it up, the better. They can't find you here."

All he could do was inspect his surroundings. His very pink and bright surroundings. "Pink is your signature color, isn't it?"

"Noah!"

"Alright, okay! So, here goes." He took a deep breath and seemed like he was going to go on a long tangent, but all he huffed out was, "I'm sorry."

Rachel stood there, blinking like she was trying to speak in Morse code with her eyes. "You're… sorry? You came all the way here, climbed up my window and almost got me grounded because you're sorry? Honestly, Noah Puckerman, I would've just left you out there so the authorities could come take you away like the scoundrel that you truly are, but this is just unbelievable. You ignore me all week after what happened last Friday and you expect me to forgive you at the snap of your fingers? It doesn't work that way. In fact, it's fairly implausible if you think that I'm just going to accept that sorry excuse of an apolo--"

In one second, Puck cupped Rachel's face into his hands and let his lips do the rest of the talking. A week ago, he would've just kissed her to shut her up long enough so he could breathe. Now it was like he couldn't breathe unless her lips were touching his. He took it as a good sign when she didn't pull away or scream bloody murder. It lasted a good while before he needed to gasp for actual air, his forehead resting against hers. "Like I said, I'm sorry."

This wasn't like any kiss she had with Finn. It was raw, intoxicating, and soon after their lips parted, hers kept searching for his. It was like taking a hit of a drug for the very first time and she needed another. This was in the top three kisses ever. Which wasn't fair since it was actually her third, the first two being Finn. No, she didn't count Barry Gluckman after temple when she was seven. This easily beat out Finn's two kisses. Eyes popping open, she stumbled out of the haze that had taken over, pushing herself away from him.

"You can't do that. That's not fair. You completely disregarded me for a week and now you expect me to just fawn over you?"

"Rachel," he started, trying to gather all the words he wanted to express but couldn't all week. This was going to be completely unscripted and come straight from him. "I'm sorry. Not just for last Friday, but for everything. I'm sorry I ever called you a freak, I'm sorry that we teepeed your house last Halloween, I'm sorry for throwing slushies in your face… but most of all, I'm sorry I ever made you look at me the way you did when I dropped you off last Friday. I never want you to look at me like that again… all disappointed and… dejected."

"Did you just say 'dejected'?" A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He was talking more than he ever did and he used a word that admittedly wasn't huge, but it was one that she didn't even think he knew.

"Yeah, don't rub it in."

There was a long silence that made him uncomfortable, especially because she as burning a hole into his face with her gaze.

"You know," she finally spoke up, letting her arms drop to her sides, "it hurt more when you didn't talk to me than all those times you slushied me. At least then I wasn't emotionally invested. You're still kind of a jerk."

"I know and if I tried to explain how sorry I am in other words, I'd…"

"…have an aneurysm?" She finished for him, looking at him pointedly.

In all honesty, Puck had no idea what she just said. His brows furrowed in confusion and she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

"Yeah, whatever you just said. It sounds painful enough."

Reaching out, her fingers gripped his shirt and she pulled him closer, closing the gap between them. "There's still hope for you yet, Noah." Wrapping her arms around his torso, she hugged him for the first time and surprise, the world didn't end. It was nice. His chin rested atop of her head and he could finally breathe.

"Rachel?"

"Yeah?"

"Is that my shirt on your dresser?"