Sorry once again about the lateness of this! Winter break is over for me, so I'll probably have the chance to update this more regularly. Possibly.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

A few things: I normally hate explaining myself in disclaimers, but I don't want people to get the wrong impression. While I think that some people might be offended by my use of the word 'faggot' in the story, keep in mind that it's a teenage boy who is an idiot who is using the word. It's awful, but I didn't want to dim down the language for propriety's sake considering that a lot of teenagers unfortunately use the word in the way that Karofsky is using it. Also, I am completely aware of Puck's hypocrisy regarding comments about homosexuality in this chapter. That was intentional, not just me being stupid.


8. A Dish Best Served Bloody

When Rachel arrived at school the following day, she was prepared. No, she was more than prepared. She had spent half the night dreaming up various scenarios in which her plan would go awry, and she was confident that she had contingencies for nearly all of them. Kurt met her in the parking lot and allowed her to stash her camera and tripod in the back of his Hummer, facing out the back window so that it could catch whatever action was going on outside. Noah's parking spot was directly in front of Kurt's, so if anyone were to approach Noah's truck and vandalize it once again, the camera would catch it on film. She had enough battery life for six hours – more than enough time for the vandals to strike. Rachel had learned the trick from an episode of Veronica Mars, in which Veronica had cleared her besmeared name by placing a camera in a display case in the school (going so far as to set up a fake display of photography equipment so that the camera would blend in, which Rachel had admired immensely. Nothing foiled a plan like being ill prepared, after all) and recording the true culprit in action. Veronica, of course, had been attempting to catch a boy who was supplying fake to the student body, but the concept was unimportant. It was the method that was ingenious, and it was the method she was going to borrow. Rachel was confident that it would work, if only she managed to channel her inner heroine.

"I still don't understand why you're doing this," Kurt sighed when she was finally finished. He had mentioned his confusion three times already, and it was becoming tiresome. She was well aware of his disapproval of her methods and his desire that she should just 'let it lie'. "Rachel, I know it's difficult to accept, but…"

"So don't accept it," Rachel hissed.

Kurt looked taken aback, which Rachel was not entirely surprised by. She prided herself on her ability to control her emotions, but after the preceding night, something within her had snapped. Throw slushies on her, draw pictures of her in the girl's bathroom, even fill her locker with Jell-o. But her fathers were off limits. No matter how unintentionally they had done it, those boys had opened the floodgates of her wrath and they didn't appear to be close to closing in the slightest.

"Rachel…"

"No, Kurt. Listen. I understand that you are uncomfortable with your sexuality and what it means to be gay in this town. I truly understand. You're an adolescent, and no matter how maturely developed you think you are, there is no way getting around the indecisiveness that comes naturally with this time in our lives. But my fathers, they are not uncomfortable. They know exactly who they are and who they want to be. They always have. So for the writhing underbelly of the athletic social wedge in McKinley High's pie chart of social cliques to involve them in something like this, to attempt to bring homosexuality into this where it should never have been brought, and especially to act as if it's something to insult me with rather than something to celebrate, it's unacceptable. I don't care if we live in Lima and I don't care that our homosexual population is staggeringly low. It's a simple matter of right and wrong, and what they did was wrong. I'm not going to placate the masses by turning the other cheek because I am not that person. Maybe things would be easier for me if I was, but I have never been and will never be. I stand up for what I think is right, Kurt Hummel, and I know you don't always agree with me. But this isn't an attempt to further my career or impress some boy. This is bigger than that. They need to be taught a lesson, and I'm going to see to it that they are."

She slammed the door to Kurt's truck and flounced off across the parking lot, leaving the boy standing awkwardly behind her.


"You want me to do what?"

Puck generally tried not to think of Rachel in terms of her total weirdness, because that could hurt his brain. But this time was different, because she was standing in front of him and asking him to beat the shit out of Karofsky, not as revenge for what they did to his truck (which would have been a totally hot request. Violence and cars and hot girls? It was only the American dream), but so they would do something to his truck again.

"I want you to…"

"No, Rach, that wasn't a question. That was an expression of…"

Shit. He had been about to say incredulity. And he only knew that word at all because Rachel had already said it a total of seven times in their current conversation (which had only lasted for, fuck, like three minutes).

"An expression of your incredulity?" Rachel prompted, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile like she knew, or something.

"Yeah, whatever. Look, my mom's super pissed about the truck thing and even though she thinks it's cool that it got murdered because I stood up for you or, whatever, she's still not exactly shooting fucking rainbows at the idea of having to pay for the damage."

"If my plan works, which I assume it will, then you won't have to worry about paying for anything."

She looked at him like she was ready to start begging, and he really couldn't take that in the middle of the school hallway.

"Fine, whatever. Like I need an excuse to punch that smug asshole, anyway. I'll do it."

She grinned at him, and Puck legit couldn't think of anything to describe it other than infectious, which was totally gay. Lame. Whatever. It was bad enough that he knew the word, but he really didn't have to start using it in like every day thought or whatever.

"Thank you, Noah," she said primly. "You won't be sorry. I have a plan."

And really, it was sort of hot when she said stuff like that, because she was so crazy that she probably legitimately had a plan to, like, take over the world or something, and he was just glad to be on her side and not the other one.

"Tell me something," he said finally, leaning against the locker beside him and putting on his best charming smile.

"All right," she replied, and the way she leaned against the locker in front of him made her skirt rise up like a half an inch, which normally wouldn't be a lot but since the skirt was already fucking miniscule, it made a hell of a difference. And she was still smiling at him like she knew.

He was starting to get the impression that Rachel knew a lot more than she'd probably be willing to admit, and that was scary and awesome at the same time. If she wanted to use her hotness to talk him into things, he was pretty much one hundred and ten percent okay with that. And it maybe made him just a tiny bit whipped, but he was whipped already before they started re-dating, and he guessed he had no choice but to accept that he was continuing in the same tradition.

"So, you're obviously really scary about standing up for yourself. Why didn't you ever try to get back at me? Put Nair in my shampoo, razor blades in my apples, shit like that?"

Rachel winced.

"Noah, that's disgusting. Where do you come up with this stuff? And, to answer your question, I never tried to get back at you because you never stooped so low as to actually threaten me." He started to tell her that of course they weren't threatening her, but she just kept talking. He had a feeling that it was going to happen a lot if they were going to continue to be in a relationship together, no matter how casual he tried to keep it. "I know you told me that they did not intend to threaten me, but I believe you are underestimating their stupidity."

"Can't really deny that."

"And, to further answer your question, I didn't try to fight back at you because I did not have anyone on my side. I think it's safe to assume that the entire school would rather see me suffer than help me. At least, until you decided that you could be strong enough to stand up to our less evolved classmates."

Puck sort of laughed at that, and he really didn't mean to sound so sexy when he said, "Baby, I'm definitely highly evolved." He really didn't mean to. He just couldn't help it. It was natural.

Rachel sighed, exasperated but still smiling, which meant that she thought he was hot. Which was awesome even though he already sort of figured that, since it was basically just a fact.

"Essentially," she sighed, pushing herself off of the locker and shrugging gamely at him. "Essentially I'm saying that I truly could not be doing this without you."

She left him to digest that info, and then she turned and walked away without so much as a kiss on the cheek or even a high five or something. And it wasn't like he wanted one or anything, but they were dating, even if it was casual. So, yeah, that was sort of lame.


Rachel walked into Miss Pillsbury's office, knowing that Mr. Schuester would be inside. He always was at that particular time of morning. During her brief obsession with everything he did or touched, she had come to memorize his schedule. It was embarrassing, yet helpful.

"Mr. Schuester," she said from the doorway, looking at him pointedly. He rose to his feet and smiled at her.

"Rachel, come in. Miss P. and I were just talking about you."

Rachel knew from experience that it was more than likely that they had been discussing her lack of social skills or the strangeness of her wardrobe or her selfishness, but she pretended to believe that they were discussing her talent or her surprisingly strong willingness to help others (it was often overlooked by the fact that she was forceful in her opinions about her talent, which Rachel thought was criminally unfair considering her generosity applied in all other areas except the one). She was hesitant to step into the room as a result of the feeling of insecurity, and she hovered in the doorway for another moment.

"I wanted to speak to you about the incident that transpired yesterday with Noah's car."

"Yeah, that's what we were talking about," Mr. Schuester said. "Please, sit."

Rachel sat reluctantly, dreading the conversation that was to come. Miss Pillsbury was a lovely woman and so kind, but she also could be a bit overbearing when it came to her job. Mr. Schuester looked at the pretty guidance counselor, who nodded and began.

"Now, Will tells me that you were the victim of a hate crime yesterday."

Rachel had given the possibilities for her presenting this incident very careful consideration the night before as she had lain sleepless for several hours in her bed (between planning retribution and recalling the way Noah's hands had felt on her skin, she was truly at the mercy of her own mind). She knew that what had occurred was serious. Although they had undoubtedly simply meant the words as a threat to her and as something hurtful to throw her way, they also seemed to be under the opinion that homosexuality was something that could be used as an insult. Rachel did not approve.

"Yes. Somewhat. Not precisely. Look, Mr. Schuester, I appreciate that you appear to be taking this very seriously, unfortunately there is not much we can do. I think it is fair to assume that the video cameras that Principal Figgins set up in the parking lot are merely scare tactics devised to keep people from acting out. There are no wires. And the one in the back lot was pecked apart by a bird who used the Styrofoam for its nest."

"Rachel, this is serious. If you feel threatened by these boys or if you feel that they've targeted you specifically because you are the child of a homosexual couple…"

"Mr. Schuester, you are admittedly kind and although your idea of fairness when it comes to glee is questionable at best, you have a very strong set of morals that you stick to no matter what. I think that's really lovely. However, in this case I think it would be remiss for me to pursue any sort of legal action. It's well known that I am not well-liked by anyone in the school. I have no friends to speak of who would not abandon me at a moment's notice. I have no admirers other than Jacob Ben Israel, whose admiration seems to be directed at my physicality, which would be flattering were it anyone else. These boys targeted me because it's the popular thing to do."

"Rachel, you have friends. What about glee club?"

Rachel looked at Mr. Schuester pointedly.

"You know better than I do that they only tolerate me for my talent. And even then, they probably would not be devastated if I left glee."

"Rachel…"

"No, it's true. You don't have to pretend. I'm aware that their fondness for me is fickle, and I'm sure that it is entirely my fault due to the fact that I seem unable to change my personality to fit into an accepted social box."

Mr. Schuester was looking at her as if she were some tragic figure, and Miss Pillsbury looked shocked that Rachel had some degree of self-awareness. Rachel knew the look well. She had seen it often.

"What about Puck?" Miss Pillsbury asked finally. "You two are dating, right?"

"Yes, well, perhaps. But he is a teenage boy with a libido that is advanced even for his demographic. I work out and I wear short skirts. I think the answer to this equation is perfectly clear." She stood to her feet as she realized that she was depressing herself with the truth. "I appreciate the concern you have both shown me. However, I would prefer it if I were allowed to deal with this on my own."

Mr. Schuester glanced at Miss Pillsbury for support, but she didn't seem to have any idea what to say. Finally, he nodded.

"I'll give you a chance to deal with this in your own way," he said reluctantly. "But I want you to know that we take this very seriously. They shouldn't be allowed to get away with this."

"None of the people who have tormented me over the course of my two years at McKinley should be allowed to get away with what they do to me every day, but no one has taken an interest before. To you, this may be a hate crime, Mr. Schuester, but to me this is just another way in which my fellow students strive to find creative ways of insulting me or otherwise trodding on what remnants of self-confidence I have managed to cling to."

With what she hoped was an airy shrug and a determined smile, Rachel excused herself from the room at last. She was confident that Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury would keep the incident with the truck to themselves. Rachel was glad. Although she undeniably felt a desire to make the heathens pay for the damages both to Noah's truck and her own wounded ego, she did not desire the attention that an accusation would incur. She tried her hardest to fly under the McKinley radar, with admittedly limited success. She wanted to continue to do so. Albeit in a far more vengeful way than before. With luck, the boys would learn their lesson without her fathers ever learning that there was something for them to learn.


Puck walked across the football field with his confusion getting worse with every step.

Seriously, really, why was he doing what Rachel wanted him to do? Was it the idea that maybe she would be so grateful she'd actually hand over her V-card? He didn't think it was exactly unlikely, but it was definitely not the kind of thing he should have been banking on. She hadn't even hinted that it might be a possibility, and he was jumping the gun and going totally out of his way for her because he had the idea that maybe, it might happen.

It was disgusting how whipped he was.

"Hey, Karofsky," he shouted across the football field, although inside his mind he was asking himself if he was trying to be completely stupid. Karofsky was sitting on the bleachers with a few of his asshole buddies, passing around a joint before class.

"Hey, Puckerman!" Karofsky said, casually getting to his feet. "Saw what happened to your truck. That's too bad, man. Guess that's what you get for dating freak shows."

"I wouldn't talk about your mother that way, Karofsky. She's a nice lady with a gorgeous rack."

"Shut the fuck up about my mom," Karofsky growled. "I get it, you're a stud on the scent of aged fish. Hasn't this shtick gotten old, yet? Back when you actually mattered, no one said shit to you because you had the strength in numbers thing going for you. Now? Now, I don't feel even the slightest bit worried about saying that there is something seriously unwell about you."

Puck had been expecting the comments about his recent decline in popularity (Stop thinking like Rachel, you idiot. That's what got you into this shit in the first place), but he was surprised by how hard the words hit him. It wasn't like his feelings were hurt or anything, but he was feeling pretty shitty about how true it was. A few months earlier, he would have been able to shut Karofsky up with a wave of his little finger. But times had changed, and suddenly 'little finger' had become 'both fists and a foot up his ass' which was undeniably more fun, but still sort of insulting to his badassery. It was way cooler when he didn't have to give that much effort. Easier, too. More time for Call of Duty and Left 4 Dead.

"I bet you just dazzle the ladies with your wit, right? God, how is it that you're still a virgin? I mean, despite your face, you'd think you could find someone half-blind or something."

"What, you think a lot about me going at it? I knew that glee club would turn you all into faggots."

Puck felt his throat close up with the difficulty of restraining himself. He wanted to make the kid bleed. The word 'faggot' had never really meant anything to him before. He'd even said it a few times, even though it wasn't his favorite insult. But thinking about the way Rachel had been so quiet and angry and smoldering with that hot vengeful fire, it made him realize that it was stupid. It was not an insult, it was just a statement of fact, really. But the way they said it made it seem like gay guys were the new swine flu. Like they were some contagious disease that could spread to people.

It was stupid. Rachel was an awesome chick even though she was also kind of annoying (but there were plenty of other intense and annoying chicks who hadn't been raised by gay guys, so that clearly wasn't their doing), so as far as he was concerned, being gay was all right.

He felt like an ass for ever feeling like it wasn't. Who was he to judge, seriously? Plenty of dudes judged him for liking older ladies even though it wasn't, like, their business or anything. People should just fuck off about stuff like that.

"You know what, fuck off," he said decisively. "I don't even know why I'm here. You're so fucking pathetic. Look at you. You play hockey. And that's, I don't know, enough, but then you just add your idiot personality on top of it and, seriously, why do you even exist? How the hell were you your dad's fastest little swimmer? Is your dad retarded or something?"

"What is with your fixation on my family? You sleep with my dad, too?"

"Nah, what would be the point? I feel like I've done it already. Your mom tells the best stories about how hard he tries in bed. Can't seem to get it up. Actually, you know what? You might want to cool it with the homophobia stuff. Your dad seems like a nice guy."


After first period, Rachel moved as slowly as possible at her locker as she waited for Noah to arrive in the hallway. She wasn't exactly sure about the status of their relationship, because while she was aware of its casual nature and the way that they were destined for bigger and better things, there was still the question of whether or not it would be the kind of casual relationship that was allowed to be viewed by the public.

But when Noah appeared in the hallway with blood tricking from a cut on his cheek and his white t-shirt beneath his jacket stained with grass, he headed straight to her. His split-lipped smile was simultaneously unnerving and heartening, and she couldn't help but smile a bit as well. He stopped in front of her locker, folding his arms across his chest.

"Baby, my work is done. And it was pretty awesome."

"They hit you," Rachel pointed out with a smile that she couldn't quite contain in time.

"Yeah, well, I probably deserved it. And whatever, it makes me look like a total badass."

"You should still probably see the nurse."

"No way! She'd make me change my shirt, and there is blood on my shirt."

Rachel peered closer, and sure enough there was a large spot of blood in the near-exact middle of one of the grass stains. She rolled her eyes and said, "And why exactly would changing your shirt be a bad thing?"

"Because if I change my shirt, no one will know who made Karofsky's face look like a pile of raw hamburger."

Rachel, not normally squeamish in any way, felt her stomach churn at the description and the accompanying mental image.

"Disgusting, Noah. And hopefully not accurate."

"I don't know, maybe not once he washes the blood off."

"I'm beginning to see why asking you to provoke his wrath was possibly an unintelligent idea. At least tell me that he wasn't seriously injured."

"Not enough to get my ass thrown in jail, no. And Karofsky's not going to tell anyone I hit him, either. That's like the only good thing about my plummeting reputation in this school: no one's going to want to admit they got beat up by the gleek."

"Well, hopefully you're right. And if everything goes according to plan, they'll soon have to admit to having been beating up on the gleek, namely you. Also me, I suppose, but I like to think that my involvement in this is largely due to you. After all, I've been teased in more offensive and less creative ways than this, before, and I've never gone to such lengths. Time will tell if it's a good thing or not."

She felt the desire to kiss him on the cheek, and considering the fact that no one around them seemed to even register the fact that they were speaking, she felt that it would be appropriate and not socially unacceptable to do so. She stood on the tips of her toes and lightly allowed her lips to graze the side of his face, where he had evidently not shaved that morning because the coarse short hairs there tickled her skin. When she pulled back, slightly and breathlessly afraid that he was going to react in an unfavorable manner, he simply grinned at her.

She felt all of the tension and unease about the public awareness of their relationship expelled from her body in one forceful breath. He was not unhappy about being seen with her. That was fortunate, because it was something she had experienced a fair amount of anxiety about.

"Hey, so," Noah started awkwardly, leaning back against the locker again once the close quarters became a bit too uncomfortable to stomach any longer. "You still want to come over today? Mom's pretty psyched that you, like, exist, and I'm pretty sure she's already your number one fan. She found your Myspace and shit, and spent the whole night trying to show me highlights from your videos."

"It's always good to expand one's fanbase," Rachel said sagely, hoping that he knew she was joking (at least partially).

"Yeah, well, you're about to expand by one. Probably two, because my sister talks almost as much as you do, and she's the most overdramatic little shit ever. You two should get along great."

He said it all with a teasing tone, and Rachel chose to believe that he was not being derogatory in any way (although her mind reeled a bit at the idea that perhaps he was indeed employing the tactic of bringing up negative qualities about herself in the hopes that she would believe that it was her idea to implement a personality change when in reality it was his intention all along, but she chose to dismiss that notion as rampant paranoia caused by years of social ostracism).

"Fantastic," she said, upbeat to the point of mania, just as it should be. "I'll talk to you later."

She hurried off to her next class, passing Quinn on her way and flashing the other girl a bright smile. Her day was going that well. She was hopeful of an eventual friendship with Quinn (how lovely would it be, truly, if they were able to forge a friendship despite all their differences in the past?) and on this day it seemed an especially wonderful day to attempt to initiate some sort of change between them. She didn't stop to see what sort of reaction Quinn would have. Taking things slow was the best way to approach the situation.

She just kept walking, head held up high, and told herself that her world was really starting to look up.


Puck knew as soon as he saw Quinn approaching down the hall that he was in for some serious hell fire, but he had no idea that it would end up being as fucking weird as it did.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Quinn hissed, her eyes blazing with something really freaking scary as she tried (and sort of succeeded, a little, but he'd never admit it) to look intimidating.

"Um, talking to Rachel before class. What's the big deal?"

"Your little jealousy experiment failed the first time, Puck, so why are you trying again? Nothing is going to change my mind. I'm going to be with Finn. I love Finn."

"What, you think this is about you?"

"What else would it be about? You said it yourself, you're a teenage boy. You want me to notice you? Fine, consider this noticing you. But if you want me to notice you without the bad feelings attached, then you need to stop leading on an innocent girl. Berry's crazy and annoying as hell, but that doesn't give you a right to mess with her like this."

"Oh, so Finn, you can fuck with, but Rachel's off limits? You took me babysitting. Don't think I don't know that was a eupha…code word for 'daddy try outs'. Get off your stupid high horse. Out of the two of us, you're the only one who's a bitch enough to actively sabotage the life of someone you're supposed to care about."

Quinn took a step back, like she was afraid he was going to slap her or something, which in truth only made him angrier.

"You talk a really big game, Puck, but we're in this together. The only reason you haven't told Finn yet is because without me and Finn, you have nobody. Not even Rachel would be by your side if the truth came out. She'd be on Finn's arm so fast, he'd get whiplash."

And, okay, it wasn't that the words hurt…but they sort of did. A little.

"If you're so sure of that, why are you even still dating him? He's fucking…I don't know, undressing her with his eyes or some shit, and you don't even seem to care. That's not a healthy relationship."

Quinn laughed hollowly.

"When you love someone, I mean really love someone, which you obviously know nothing about, you don't care if it's a scrap. You'll take whatever you can get. Even if you know you don't deserve it."

She looked pointedly at him and hugged her books tighter to her chest before walking away. Puck watched her go and, well fuck. Why the hell did he feel so guilty?


Rachel peered out the window at the students gathered around Noah's truck, and she grinned with anticipation. Obviously, Karofsky and his friends had struck again. While she was not looking forward to what they had written, especially if it was about her this time and not her dear fathers (because that could be ignored and written off as ignorance when it came to assessing the blow to her confidence, but direct insults were always harder to mentally scribble out), she was certainly flush with anticipation at the thought of catching the perpetrators and bringing them to a swift and timely justice.

"This is so messed up," Noah said for what may have literally been the thousandth time.

"On the contrary. This is exactly what I wanted to happen. The camera in Kurt's car will provide us with ample proof that Karofsky and his friends are the ones behind the incident, and once I persuade Principal Figgins to watch the tape, I'm sure I can convince him to force the boys to pay the appropriate damages."

"I get the plan. It's the plan that's messed up."

Rachel rolled her eyes at Noah as she turned her back.

"Well, if you want your mother to pay for your truck…"

"I didn't say that. It's just…you're sort of scary, you know that? You're like this evil mastermind bent on world domination, when you try to be. Which is scary. Especially since, you know, you probably can do it."

"What a nice thing to say," Rachel mused, eyes fixated on the slowly-dispersing crowd around Noah's truck. "All right, the vultures are beginning to scatter. Kurt allowed me to borrow his key for these purposes. I'll be back in a second with the camera."

"No way are you going out there alone. If Karofsky has any idea what you did…"

"Would you be embarrassed if I said that I find your protectiveness endearing?"

Puck grinned and said, "Only a little, but I think I can live with it."


Puck hated to admit it, but Rachel was a genius, sometimes. When she put her mind to shit that was actually useful, it was pretty awesome. Like the fact that his mother would maybe reconsider suspending his Xbox LIVE account for a month like she'd threatened? That was awesome. The other stuff that she put her mind to could be pretty stupid, but this wasn't. And he actually felt sort of loved. Not like, in a lame way. But in a cool way.

Shit, that wasn't really possible, was it?

He decided he could ignore that sad fact as soon as she burst into fake tears at the best possible moment – just as Principal Figgins asked her (with serious attitude, by the way, which Puck was not okay with) if there was any point to her visit. Puck had to pity the man a tiny bit, recognizing the frantically confused look on his face. It was the same face he'd been making a lot more often in the half day since he'd accidentally asked Rachel out (not that he regretted it, exactly, but it was still sort of overwhelming.

Rachel broke off crying suddenly and stamped her foot on the ground with all the drama she could muster (which was totally a lot).

"I demand justice," she said firmly.

"Yeah, and money," Puck agreed.

"What? If this is a blackmailing scheme, I promise you it won't work."

"Shit, is this blackmail?"

"No, Noah. This is justice. Plain and simple. I demand you view this tape and take appropriate action against the juvenile delinquents in question."

She thrust the camera out into the open (she had been holding it behind her back for "maximum dramatic potential, Noah", which were obviously her words and not his since he still wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that). Figgins looked at it like it was going to bite off his head or something.

"If this is some scam to force me to inadvertently watch child pornography so that you can blackmail me…"

"Dude, what the hell is up with you and blackmailing?" Puck growled. "Just watch the fucking tape."

Figgins sighed and gave him an angry look about the language, but he took the tape, so Puck figured it was a win. As he watched the footage that Rachel had set up, he looked more and more angry, until finally he snapped the LCD screen closed and looked up at them.

"I apologize for assuming the worst, Miss Berry. And I can assure you, I will take care of this."

"Um, just so you know, they did this yesterday, too," Puck pointed out. "My mom had to pay for new tires at her friend's mechanic place, and even though he's her friend it was still super expensive and shit, since she needed it overnight and whatever. So if you're going to make them pay, can it be literally?"

"If not, I'm sure you are well aware that I have two gay dads who will be very displeased to hear that…"

"I'm well versed in your legal threats, Miss Berry. The two of you, please wait elsewhere while I round up these idiots and call their parents."

Rachel beamed at Principal Figgins with all the wattage (shit, wattage? Really?) of a true star, then grabbed Puck's hand and dragged him out of the room to sit at the bench just outside Figgins' door. Figgins followed them, locked it, and headed towards the football field where the hockey team usually went for their runs after school, warning them that they had better be gone once he returned (Puck tried to tell him that he wasn't afraid of Karofsky, but both Figgins and Rachel had explained with really big words why they weren't allowed to know that it was Rachel who set up the tape. Not that he understood or anything, but he figured it sounded smart enough).

"This is going remarkably well," Rachel said with excitement once Figgins had disappeared down the hallway.

"Yeah, you're like really good at talking people into things, aren't you?"

"I pride myself on my persuasive abilities, yes. Every star should be prepared to face her ups and downs, and every star should certainly be prepared to talk her way out of a few mishaps. Granted, most stars use this skill for evading speeding tickets or something of that nature, but I suppose this is a sort of dress rehearsal."

"I really don't care about any of that stuff you're saying. I think you should probably just appreciate the fact that right now, in Lima Ohio, not New York or whatever, you're doing a super awesome thing to help my mom out."

Rachel stared at him with an unreadable expression, a slow smile spreading over her face.

"Wow," she said finally, leaning back in her chair. "You know, I never would have taken you for someone who cares about his family, but it's obvious from the way you just said that, that you care deeply for your mother."

"She's my mom," Puck grumbled, not liking the turn of this conversation.

"Yes, of course, but in general, the adolescent mind rejects authority, especially the total authority of the parent. Adolescents are yearning to break free and go forth and establish an identity separate from that of their parents, and that often includes ignoring the merits of what their parents are trying to teach them, or ignoring the perfectly logical reasoning behind, say, a refusal to allow a son or daughter to attend a concert on a school night."

"Yeah, well, people are stupid."

"I didn't necessarily say…well, all right. I concede that I've never really understood the need, myself. I love my fathers and everything about them. It's refreshing to see someone who avoids that particular social and psychological construct as well."

"You're losing me again."

Rachel chuckled instead of getting mad like he sort of thought she would, and then she leaned across the seat and kissed him. Full on, on the lips. It was hot, because she was all passionate about it, and he could tell that she was like, completely into him.

And no matter what Quinn said, he was into her just as hard. He wasn't using her to make Quinn jealous. He was using her to make himself feel better. And maybe that was sort of just as bad (because, really, sometimes he didn't really like her that much, and he'd wonder if maybe he was doing this for the wrong reasons) but at least it wasn't about someone else. Like Rachel said, she had played second string to Quinn for a long ass time. No matter what Rachel did, Quinn would overshadow her. But when it came to him and their casual relationship, at least she could rest assured that Quinn had nothing to do with it.

Sure, he wanted to be a part of his kid's life, and sure he wanted to bone Quinn again (only without the crying this time) because she was hot and he sort of wanted to show her that sex didn't always have to be a 'huge, epic mistake' (her words, not his. Like he would ever call sex or his baby a mistake). But did he want to hang out with Quinn, listen to her rant, make out with her for hours, snuggle with her on the couch and...whoa, not snuggle. Make out with her on the couch, cop a feel on the couch, have sex on the couch (badassness reestablished). Anyway, did he want to do all of that stuff with Quinn? No. Quinn was Finn's girl, and she would always be Finn's girl. Finn thought the stuck-up Christian thing was cool, but Puck thought that he maybe wanted to be a better person. Maybe Rachel and glee and all the gleeks made him want to be a better person.

And how could he do that with Quinn by his side? When she was trying so hard not to call people names, to react to her natural instinct (or maybe her instinct put there by her dumbass parents) to judge everyone for everything. How could either of them hope to improve when they were both so damn shitty?

No. He was a shitty person, and he was a liar, and he was a terrible friend, but at least he had Rachel. Because at the end of the day, Rachel was a better person than he was, by a lot. Even though he made fun of her and thought she was weird and sort of hated how much she felt the need to talk, he knew that she was making him a better person the more time he spent with her. Every time he was with her, he could feel himself improving. Like there was this awesome glowing awesomeness filling him, and it wouldn't ever go away as long as she was nearby.

But he didn't say stupid shit like that, so instead he just pulled back and said, "Babe, you're the shit."