So I was feeling super productive today. Also feeling extra speedy with the typing. This is a longer one. It has a small snippet of Hairography. I hope that you enjoy!

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-Chapter Ten-

***June 2005***

Andrea Sokoloff-Leonardo slowly made her way down the hallway, not overly eager to start this summer's session. She was two and a half months pregnant, which frankly she was overjoyed about, however all the overjoy-ment in the world could not stop the fact that she couldn't put any one thing in her mouth and have it stay in her stomach. She had extreme panic attacks where she imagined having to be hooked up to a portable IV bag lest the growing baby in her stomach become malnourished which would eventually lead to a fugly baby.

Not that she was superficial, but with her husband's striking good looks and her own not too shabby appearance the chances of having a fugly baby inexplicably became ten-fold in her brain.

Her husband had tried to explain that this was impossible. All babies and children were cute. But she knew better. She was about to embark on her third summer with a child who may not be hard on the eyes, but was definitely soul crushing in his demeanor. Sure Noah Puckerman had eventually perked up last summer after he had gotten over his initial sullenness about Rachel's odd behavior during the school year. It had taken at least eight batches of cookies before he had stopped drawing tiny phallus shapes in the synagogue's weekly service programs and teaching the little kids highly offensive swear words.

But by the end of the summer, he and Rachel had once again become thick as thieves. They had performed brilliantly at Rachel's end of summer musical extravaganza, and Andrea seriously hoped that they would consider performing for her own baby shower later in the year. That is, if they interacted with each other during the year. Andrea had done the best she could, but she could talk no sense into Rachel about the child's erstwhile plans to keep Noah's popularity and school friendships intact. And Noah would only grunt and act out in a predictably evil way when she would try to counsel the young boy about their problems. When she had seen them during the winter holiday, they had seemed perfectly normal, but Rachel was an excellent little actress and Noah was a first-class liar. She never knew what to believe when the two of them were involved.

And now Rachel would be missing again for three weeks due to her dance training. Which potentially meant that Noah had gone through another insane school year of pretending to be mean and hurtful to Rachel, at Rachel's own request. Which potentially meant that the poor boy had a whole school year full of confusion and anger built up within him. Which potentially meant that she would be having massive breakdowns from his impish behavior.

She warily approached the door to the rec-room, her shaking hand resting on the doorknob. She took a deep breath, imagining that a calm, zen-like protective bubble was encasing her and her unborn child. Noah Puckerman would not ruin any part of her summer this year. He had grown older and wiser in their time apart. There would be no toddler's cursing and absolutely no one would be duct-taped together and shoved in a supply closet.

Andrea closed her eyes tightly as she quietly opened the door. There. No sounds of glass breaking, shrieking children or a hormonally challenged young Jewish boy insulting her looks, her marriage or the fact that despite not being able to eat anything, she had gained ten pounds. It was safe. Noah would be normal and she would be saved from murdering a minor.

"Oh Noah…"

Andrea's eyes flew open at the sound of a delighted, moaned sigh coming from a person far too young to be making such a sound. She glanced around the room desperately, only to see Noah and Rachel sitting in the time-out corner, their lips glued together inexpertly, completely in their own little world as they engaged in what Andrea prayed was their first kiss.

She wasn't prepared for this. She was hardly equipped to deal with her own husband when it came to kissing and other things. It had been the one thing she had not gleaned from four years of college and two years of pursuing a master's degree in education. She would never be able to talk about anything sexual out loud, especially not in front of children. Therefore, she quickly and quietly retreated, intent on finding someone who could talk Rachel and Noah properly.

The pair did not notice their counselor's entrance or hasty retreat as they firmly pressed their lips together, neither knowing how to go further than that enjoyable step. Noah opened his eyes the slightest bit and wondering if Rachel was actually enjoying this as much as he was. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyelids were fluttering, so she certainly looked pleased. And she had sighed his name. That had to be a good sign.

She broke the innocent kiss and looked at him curiously before a mega-watt beam took over his face. "You were right!"

"See, told you there was nothing to learning how to kiss," Noah shrugged, his attitude nonchalant, although his cheeks were flushing ever so slightly.

"I'm thankful that I've been promoted to the more advanced group of dancers for camp, and therefore won't have to leave for Columbus for another two weeks. This was highly enjoyable and informative," Rachel nodded. She bit her lip shyly and said, "Did you like it?"

"Didn't suck."

"Noah!" Rachel admonished.

Noah pursed his lips peevishly. This see-saw act was getting to him. He had spent a whole year at school only interacting with Rachel through half-hearted insults. Mike and Matt had wisely let the subject drop after their repeated questioning had earned them slightly bleached hair, as Noah had somehow managed to sneak peroxide into the boy's shampoo in the gym locker room. School had become a blur to him. He and Rachel didn't have any classes together, so there wasn't even a need to pretend to ignore her. He was constantly bored and found that his impish need for pranking was dangerously growing into full-time occupation.

And yet here she was, first day of summer, expecting things to go right back to normal…or had she expected things to go not normal, because for the vast majority of their school year, they had pretended not to know each other. Fifteen minutes after he picked her up at her house with Amberlee in tow, ready for another round of Jew-camp, she had made a highly unusual request.

She needed to learn how to kiss. He tried to ignore the very real possibility that needing to know how to kiss equaled her wanting to kiss other dudes. That was definitely something he wasn't willing to think about. He wondered why she would think he had any expertise in that particular area. He had never had a girlfriend, despite what his mother thought about him and Rachel.

She pinched his arm and made an impatient, high pitched sound through pursed lips and he looked at her and shrugged, "It felt nice. But I think it was kind of basic."

"What course of action do we need to take to make it non-basic?" Rachel demanded eagerly.

"I think that instead of just smooshing together, we need to move around…like the movies," Noah suggested. He licked his lips slightly and wondered, "Wanna try again?"

She didn't answer, she simply launched herself at him, doing her very best to imitate the kisses she saw in the movies or on tv, ever eager to prove that she was exceptional at something.

Noah's eyes widened in surprise as Rachel really tried to go past non-basic. This was going to be the. Best. Summer. Ever.

***December 2009***

Puck lingered at his locker leisurely. He was waiting for his brain freeze to subside before attacking the Mountain Dew flavored slushie that was sitting inside of his locker again. He refused to admit that lingering at his locker after homeroom gave him a glimpse of his baby mama on her way to English. And maybe Rachel Berry walked along that route too, but whatever. He wasn't looking for Berry.

Besides, he wouldn't have to look on that particular day. He turned his gaze up the hallway and saw a glimpse of Quinn, who was clutching her books to her as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. She quickly rushed to her class, and Puck couldn't hate the happy, superior look on her face. The former Cheerio had been far too down as of late.

Any further thoughts on Quinn's happiness quickly flittered from his brain quickly however, as time seemed to slow, a spotlight seemed to light up a very familiar stupidly long pair of midget legs and he swore he heard the funny ass burlesque stripper music playing in his head. Bah dah dah, de bah bah bah, bah da de dah…hold on that was Rutherford's ringtone as Matt and Mike had joined him by his locker.

"Who in the hell gave Cadillac my cellie-woah woah woah woah woah woah…"

Mike rolled his eyes, as Puck's uncontrollable reflex kicked in and his fist connected with Rutherford's gut. Matt bent in half, at least he had stopped stammering like the horny-assed wolf in those old-time cartoons. Mike had to pinch his inner thigh as hard as he could to maintain a stiff and unaffected expression, because seriously? His eyeballs were about to pop out and he was about to start panting, "Awwooga Awwooga" any minute now. Because Rachel Berry was walking down the hallway towards her English class, looking as if she were the shortest model ever on a Victoria's Secret runway.

"Dude, you're totally drooling and she doesn't even have any cookies on her this time. Brit-Brit is going to owe me seventy-five dollars by the end of the day," Mike couldn't help the teasing smirk from appearing on his lips. He wished he could have because he soon found himself doubled over very much like Matt as Puck swatted him in his midsection with brutish force.

By the time Mike and Matt had regained their breath and posture, Puck had already snatched Rachel's hand and yanked her into a nearby janitor's closet.

Mike grabbed Matt's cellphone and answered it, "Mercy, we really don't have time. Yes, he has you listed as Cadillac. Sure, my pleasure…"

Mike swatted Matt on his head and hung up the phone. He then accessed the phones video recorder and did some particularly sweet, bad-ass ninja moves towards the closet. Matt sulkily followed behind, complaining about woman constantly being on his junk, before joining his friend as the young Asian tried to find a viable camera angle to film what he assumed was smut going down in the janitor's closet.

"NOAH PUCKERMAN!" Rachel screeched. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"What am I doing? Me? I am doing nothing. What in the fucking ever fucking hell are you doing? You are one inch from panty and half an inch from nipple slippage, Berry-pants!" Noah bellowed right back, nearly matching Rachel's volume.

"It's none of your business how I chose to dress for school, Noah. Even if we were still dating, you would have absolutely no say. This is hardly 1910, and you have no authority over my hemlines or necklines!" Rachel insisted, stamping her feet and reaching for the door.

Noah gripped her hand away from the doorknob and looked down at her with crazed, bewildered and hazy eyes, "You aren't going anywhere until your clothes become more…MORE!"

"You're being ridiculous, Puckerman!" Rachel scoffed.

"I'm being ridiculous? I am telling your dads. And my mom," Noah threatened. "I know that your dads have to be out of town, because no way in hell would they let you leave the house like that. Jerome would call your therapist again and we'd have another guest for winter break," Noah said confidently. "Who did this to you? I thought you were done with trying to Lolita Mr. Schue."

"Please, have a little faith in me. I've overcome that school girl crush and moved on with a more adult way of thinking. And dressing," Rachel glibly asserted, tossing her hair behind her back in a way she hadn't really intended to be sexy, but hell, was it ever.

"Okay, I was going to let the Push It performance slide, because it seemed to be a one time deal. But add those knee pads, the simulated sex dance and this outfit, and you're going to have at least fifty baboons after your panties by the end of the day," Puck predicted.

"I'm so sure," Rachel rolled her eyes, maturely, her vocabulary disintegrating with the rest of her clothes. She only wanted one boy to notice, and Finn already had before homeroom. She had secured a date and had accomplished her goal. An impish smirk settled on her face as she arched a well-manicured eyebrow at her childhood best friend. "Besides…I'm not wearing panties."

"Oh fuck," Puck breathed, pulling on her arm and yanking her to him, crushing her in a very sudden, very desperate kiss. To hell with that. You can't say that to the school's stud in a dark, cramped space and not expect to get a little molested. He was surprised when she didn't squirm away, instead she kissed back as if his lips were an all you could eat vegan buffet and she was seriously starving.

"HELLS yeah! Get him Rach, Get him!" Mike Chang hooted from the other side of the door.

"GRAB HIS ASS RACHEL! It makes him scream like a bitch!" Matt hollered.

Puck broke away from Rachel's lips, which didn't deter her as she assaulted his ears, her tongue giving the best swirly EVER. He looked down and smirked at Chang's hand which was firmly holding onto Matt's camera and recording every minute of this absolutely unexpected but absolutely fucking awesome janitor's closet make-out session. Puck brought his foot up slightly and brought it down hard, aiming for the camera, but Rachel's tongue had found a sensitive spot at the base of his neck and his body jerked a little, landing right on Chang's hand instead.

He didn't care about his friend's high pitched squeal, but he did look down to see that Mike had retreated and taken the phone with him. Hopefully to the hospital to get his bones reset. Puck quickly forgot his asinine friends and placed his hands on Rachel's phenomenal ass, his fingertips at the hem of her skirt. He moved around a little as he reclaimed Rachel's mouth with his own, his fingers discovering silky smooth skin.

Holy Slutastic Mother of Jehoshaphat. She was telling the truth. She moaned and trembled against him as his fingertips grazed the line were the holiest of all asses met the most fucking awesome Jewish legs ever.

"Noah," she whispered, rubbing against him.

"Let's do non-basic shit," Puck whispered back.

She giggled, and that seemed to break whatever horny, lust-ridden spell she had fallen under. She pulled away and removed his hands from her behind and held them in front of her. She looked up at him with a slight smile peeking through that horny, come-bang-me-in-the-Janitor's-closet eyes. He couldn't help it. He pouted. Pouted like he was fucking six again, and his ma had just told him he couldn't have a second happy meal.

"This can't happen anymore," Rachel sighed.

"Why the fuck not? People'd understand. You're fucking smoking. And I'm god-damned irresistible. It's totally natural. Let's do it like they do on the discovery channel," Puck cajoled. He tugged on her hand and let her fingertips graze against the front of his pants. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and shrugged, "Remember what Suck-it-lots always said. You have to clean up after your own mess."

Rachel laughed again, and Puck couldn't help but chuckle a little with her. He wouldn't want to take Rachel's v-card in a janitor's closet…but god dammit, if he could find those knee pads…

"I think you can manage," Rachel said confidently. "In fact, I do remember walking in on you managing at least three times in the last four years. I'll see you at my house for Christmas Eve, Noah."

She kissed his cheek and breezed out the door, an extra little sashay in her step. Her confidence in the damned stratosphere at that point. He groaned in frustration when he realized that she had walked out in eight square inches of clothes and absolutely no panties. Or a serious floss-like thong.

"I'm still totally telling your Dads!"

***June 2005***

Noah and Rachel sat on a picnic bench behind the synagogue, patiently waiting for Andrea Sokoloff-Leonardo to return to where she had put them before the end of camp that day. The counselor had appeared flushed and harried when she even glanced their way. It made the both of them highly uncomfortable. Noah's brow furrowed as Andrea led a trio of parental units back to Noah and Rachel's table.

"Uhm…here they are. Please, take as long as you need. I'm gonna…go vomit," Andrea mumbled, making her quick getaway back to the synagogue.

"Daddies?" Rachel smiled in confusion. "What are you doing here? Camp doesn't finish until four, and then Noah and I usually walk home. It gives us a chance to catch up on the year."

"Gives you a chance to talk non-stop about all the fun you have without me," Noah mumbled.

Alison Puckerman grinned as she plopped down on the bench. "Well, my adorable little son and future daughter-in-law…"

"MA!" Noah shouted.

"We are here, to talk about some sensitive subjects," Jerome Berry easily took over the conversation. He had been elected leader due to having the most degrees out of the three of them. This was definitely a time that he wished he had followed his life-long dream of trashman. "Since Rachel has no female figure to call a mother, and Noah's father wouldn't be able to get within fifty feet of me without fearing for his own life…we've decided to make this a group project."

"Are we moving in together like the Brady Bunch?" Noah wondered sarcastically.

"No," Micah laughed.

"Is Noah moving away?" Rachel practically shrieked in hysterics.

"You don't talk to me during the school year, woman! Like it would matter if I would move!" Noah disputed.

"If I have to explain myself one more time about that Noah, my head will very likely explode," Rachel insisted in her most dramatic tone.

"Sometimes I think that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Better your head than mine!" Noah peevishly insisted.

"Children," Jerome used his authoritative voice and the Rachel and Noah felt the need to quiet for the moment. "Mrs. Sokoloff-Leonardo activated our families' private phone chain."

"I didn't do it," Noah said automatically, unable to help his reflex.

"Do what?" Alison narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"He totally didn't put saran wrap on the rabbi's toilet seat in his personal bathroom," Rachel rolled her eyes, her voice monotone and drab to emphasize her total boredom with Noah's bad boy antics.

"Berry-pants!" Noah admonished.

"She would have gotten it out of you, somehow, Noah. Your mother is better than any detective at getting to the bottom of your varied and amazing misdeeds," Rachel insisted.

"Yeah, but half the fun is having her try to figure it out. Are you trying to take away her fun?" Noah countered obnoxiously.

"There are times when I seriously have to consider the fact that my best friend has a tragic degenerative brain disease," Rachel drolly asserted.

"If I knew what half of those words meant, I'd probably be pissed at you," Noah muttered.

The three adults looked at each other in a mixture of amusement. Finally, Micah was the one who spoke.

"I can understand why Andrea walked in on the two of you kissing. You have to do something with your mouths when you aren't constantly spewing fun insults at one another."

Rachel's mouth formed a perfect "O" shape as her cheeks flushed bright pink. Noah cleared his throat repeatedly as he inched himself further and further away from Jerome Berry. The psychiatrist laughed and placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I'm not angry. It's perfectly natural that the two of you should be curious about your bodies and how they work. Together."

Noah eyed the Black Mister Berry suspiciously. He said he wasn't angry, but the grip on his shoulder felt angry.

"It was inevitable. The two of you are both very attractive children. If you were going to want to kiss, it should be with each other," Alison Puckerman grinned, her expression absolutely euphoric. She wrapped an arm around Rachel and hugged the girl to her. "I can't wait to properly have you as my daughter."

"MA!" Noah shouted again.

"But obviously you're both old enough to know certain things," Micah interjected again, ever the peace maker and task driven man. "So, we know that you have kissed. We want to talk to the both of you together about what sometimes come next…and how we hope that you'll wait until you're both mature, ready…and maybe twenty-five."

"Micah, please. I'll need grand-children by then, they can wait until they're twenty-three," Alison squeezed Rachel extra-hard, causing her tiny body to tremble slightly.

"Rachel has a clear cut plan…I really doubt you'll be getting grand-children until she's nearly thirty," Jerome insisted. "And let's face it, they're both going to need extra time to be emotionally prepared for that step."

"As long as they're married by 2020, I'll be able to deal," Alison promised.

"OY! We're sitting right here!" Noah shouted. "What did you all want anyway?"

"Noah," Rachel whispered.

"WHAT?" Noah hissed back.

"They're going to tell us about…oh no. The birds and the bees…" Rachel mournfully wailed.

Jerome smirked and slapped Noah's shoulder, perhaps a wee bit harder than intended. "The extended version, children."

***December 2009***

"Is it totally wrong of me as a fine Jewish man to be kind of enjoying Christmas?" Noah pondered softly as Rachel turned another page in the photo album. They were huddled together on the Berry's couch. Noah stretched out languidly, Rachel perched obnoxiously on his knees, paging through a photo album that Alison Puckerman had cleverly named, Noah and Rachel, ages 10 through 13.

Noah smirked, he was really glad that in all Mike's visits to his house, the kid had never once mentioned Puckleberry. Either the name or the actual week-long fiasco. He didn't understand what either of them had been thinking. They couldn't mix the, quite frankly, steaming hot tongue kissing with their friendship. They weren't ready for that. Everything had been too messed up. He missed the kissing and her hot little body, but he'd rather have this comfortable friendship, their easy traditions and their rock-solid history. He realized that qualified him for a transgender surgery to get the Puckzilla all inverted back in his body, but the warm and fuzzy nostalgia in him didn't care. He wasn't ready to shovel through the shitty hurt feelings of the last six years. Not yet.

Suddenly, his little sister zoomed into the room and gave him one small smirk before jumping on his stomach, sitting there comfortably despite his sudden wheezing. She grinned happily at Rachel and wondered,

"Whatcha doin?"

"Looking at our memories. Look there you are!" Rachel grinned, pointing out a miniature Noah and Rachel, twelve years old, grinning at the camera as they held a toddler-sized Amberlee between them.

"I wish I had a Noah," Amber sighed wistfully.

"What are you talking about, shrimp? I'm sitting right here!" Puck smirked.

"You know what I mean. Rachel had you all this time. A boy best friend. That's special," Amber tried to articulate.

"Hey, it was pretty special for me too," Puck mumbled.

Amber bounced up and down on Puck's gut a few times for good measure before hopping off and heading towards the kitchen, where the adults were setting up a feast of take-out that would make the fat baby Jesus drool. Rachel kicked her legs aimlessly and smiled at Noah.

"Pretty special for you too?" Rachel held up the scrapbook and pointed at a two page layout obnoxiously. The two pages were illustrated with colorful bee and bright flower stickers. The pictures of the two of them however, looked less sunny. As Alison had snapped pictures throughout Jerome's very technical explanation of all types of sexual relations. One picture had Rachel crying into Noah's shoulder as he looked at the adults in very horrified fascination, as if it were a car wreck he just couldn't bear to tear his eyes away from.

"Someday, we'll have to torture them like they've tortured us," Rachel murmured thoughtfully.

Puck thought to his own problems…his baby mama drama…the fact that he couldn't get a through a whole month without thinking about molesting Rachel horribly…once all the shit began hitting the fan, the torturing would never stop. He looked at Rachel with intense fascination as she continued to page through the scrapbook full of memories. He felt the sudden urge to spill his guts, to tell her everything. She couldn't abandon him. Not for 97 days out of the year...she would be there then. She would have to understand.

"What are you thinking about?" Rachel wondered, not really able to recall the last time Noah's face was so serious. Maybe it was that first winter holiday all those years ago when his father had reappeared. "Is everything okay?"

Noah could feel his eyes beginning to water and he managed to shake his head. Rachel gingerly maneuvered herself so that she was smashed between his body and the couch, her head level with his as she hovered above him.

"Noah?" she whispered. "You can tell me…what's wrong?"

"No, I can't," he shook his head desperately, willing the tears to leave his eyes. He didn't care if he was the world's biggest pansy at that moment. He didn't have to care. It was winter break. No one would judge him. He felt like the whole world was crashing down on his shoulders all of a sudden and he was seriously struggling to keep it upright. He had to find a way to work things out with Quinn or else he'd never be able to be around his kid. He had to make sure he didn't ruin the friendship he had with Rachel, even though she was busy chasing after Finn.

He had to keep balancing on this high wire and keep being badass Puck, not letting anything get to him. The only thing he wanted to be right now, was Noah.

He yanked Rachel towards him and wrapped her up in his arms, caging her against his chest as he struggled to maintain composure. Rachel rubbed at his shoulder absently, soothing him with soft words and small melodies.

"It's all going to be all right Noah. Whatever it is. It'll be okay."

Famous last words.

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Okay, a little sad at the end. Not too bad though. If you have to have an emotional Puck, might as well have Rachel Berry on top of him, right?

Next up is Mattress with a little Sectionals. Rolling right along! Thanks for reading! And extra special thanks to all those that leave their thoughts on the chapters! They make my day.