A/N: Thanks for reading! :)
.-.
Quinn Fabray bowed obediently while flanked by the other two captives, Brittany and Santana, each of them enslaved to the witch before them. She waited patiently as her Queen stood over the entrails of the slain muskrat, mumbling to herself in between loud cackles.
She noticed Santana shoot her an almost bored look, rolling her eyes, and Quinn fixed her with an angry glare. Now was not the time for the Latina's defiant behavior. They hadn't been allowed out of those tombs in centuries and Quinn would be damned if she got stuck inside one again.
Not that it mattered. She was already damned. They all were.
It was a while before the Queen finally addressed them, but they remained kneeling regardless. They had no choice.
"She's in Ohio. Just outside some small town called Lima." The witch turned to face them and her beady eyes scrutinized their bowed forms. "She's the only star to fall to Earth in almost five hundred years, and we all know how that turned out last time." She stared pointedly at Quinn, and the blonde swallowed thickly under the Queen's glare. She didn't appreciate the cruel reminder of her past mistakes, but she knew the queen didn't care; she possibly even reveled in the knowledge that she had made Quinn remember.
"I want her." The queen declared, her shrewd eyes shifting to each of them in turn. "Bring my star to me, and I will consider your debt repaid."
Quinn's eyes widened and her head turned, switching quickly between Brittany and Santana, watching their similarly stunned reactions. Suddenly, Santana's indifference was gone, replaced by a keen awareness and a desire they all shared to get the job done.
Quinn briefly glanced down at the gold band wrapped around her wrist before bowing her head once again. There was no question as to the importance of this development for them. If they succeeded, then she'd finally be rid of the infernal thing.
"As you wish, my Queen," she answered for the three of them, her head bowed once more. "As you wish."
The trio rose simultaneously, turning towards each other, before running ran out the door faster than a speeding bullet; so fast, in fact, they appeared as one shadowy blur moving through the dark, black night.
.-.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of a black forest, unburdened by the bustling of modern day life, stood a small, lonely cottage where a seemingly young man tended to his garden.
As a warlock, Blaine Anderson loved his garden. It was the source of most of his spells and teachings. It was also the source of his seemingly unfailing youth, because while he had the visage of a man of twenty, in reality he was well over the age of eighty, his daily meditation, herbal remedies and natural abilities keeping him young.
So more often than not, Blaine could be found tending to his garden. Even in the dead of night. And that night was no different. He liked the peace and quiet of the darkness, with nothing more than the melodic chirp of his pet canary, Pavarotti, to disturb his solitude.
However, as he plucked wolf's bane from its stalk, a sudden and strong breeze rustled through the trees, whispering silently to him and carrying a word of warning.
Blaine looked up as he took in the message, and stared into the trees. Slowly emerging from the black shadows came a silver white unicorn, its gleaming mane blowing about with the wind.
Blaine smiled and stood up as the unicorn approached him. "Hello, old friend." He said kindly, reaching out his hand to pat its soft coat. It nuzzled at his outstretched hand affectionately and Blaine's smile grew. "It's good to see you too, Kurt," he whispered to the unicorn. "Though I wish it was under better circumstances."
Kurt whinnied softly, shaking his mane fiercely, and Blaine's body visibly stiffened at the news his old friend had brought him. "What? Are you sure?" he asked, disbelievingly. When Kurt's head nodded, his sparkling white horn bobbing up and down, Blaine nodded gravely. "Then we haven't a moment to waste."
Without hesitation, he reached up and swung himself onto the back of the unicorn. "Ride like the wind, old friend! Ride! "
.-.
By the time Puck and Rachel reached the stupid welcome sign on the border of Lima, his eyes felt like they were about to fall out his head, his muscles ached, and all he wanted to do was go home and collapse in his bed. They had walked for hours without a single car passing them on the way, and while Puck had expected as much, he really hadn't been prepared for what that actually meant. He felt exhausted, his legs completely ready to give way.
Rachel on the other hand, hadn't shut up the entire hike back into town. She gasped giddily at even the slightest thing. She even made them stop for fifteen minutes while she had a conversation with a sleeping cow.
And she didn't look to be slowing down anytime soon. Even now, she skipped in front of him to Lima's hideous welcome sign, examining it closely.
"This is marvelous!" she gushed enthusiastically.
"It's a sign," Puck deadpanned, barely holding on to his last shred of sanity. The only good thing about them finally reaching Lima was the welcoming neon sign of Flo's Diner blinking brightly as the sun rose behind him. In his opinion, that sign was ten times more welcoming than the town's actual "welcome" sign.
"Come on," he said gruffly as he pulled Rachel towards the small shop.
"Where are we going?" Rachel asked, her arms still pointed towards the sign. "I wanted to look some more."
"Yeah, well, I need food." Puck grumbled just as his stomach did. He hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day, a fact that he had been blaringly reminded of about twenty minutes after they had begun their trek back into town.
"Food?" Rachel asked, confused. "Um, Noah. I don't think stars eat."
Puck shrugged his shoulders as he pulled Flo's door open. "Well, humans do. And this human is about to collapse from starvation, so we're gonna eat."
Rachel sighed and nodded, her head tilting to the side slightly. "Okay. I guess we can rest for a short while, but not too long because there's no telling..."
Puck grunted his approval and slumped down heavily in the nearest booth while Rachel babbled away about... something. He was honestly too tired to filter through her excited chatter. Instead he just watched her lips moving as she took her time to round the other side of the table, delicately taking a seat.
He blinked slowly at her as she looked at him expectantly. It wasn't until her mouth formed a very enticing pout that he realized that she had actually asked him a question.
"Huh?" he asked distracted.
Rachel frowned as she daintily pulled out one of Flo's greasy menus and Puck began twisting his head around in search for a waitress. "I asked, what do you recommend?" Rachel asked, studying the menu scrupulously.
"I dunno," Puck shrugged. He forced himself to ignore her tongue peeking out of the side of her mouth as she concentrated on the menu in front her. He seriously didn't need those visions running through his head right now. His brain to mouth filter was quickly becoming non-existent in his fatigue. "Er, what do you like?"
Rachel frowned. "Well, I don't know. I've never had to actually eat before. It's always been a fascination of mine. Humans have a multitude of different and exhilarating foods that all have unique tastes and flavors..." she rambled on. "So what do you think? What would you like to eat?"
Puck blinked at her sluggishly as he automatically thought, You.
"What?" She titled her head to the side in confusion and Puck groaned inwardly when he realized he had spoken out loud. "Noah, I don't think it's possible to eat stars. Although, I don't believe anyone has ever tried before. Besides, I know you're hungry, Noah, but I hardly believe that's a reason to resort to what would essentially be cannibalism. Please, I beg you not to try."
He found himself smiling at her lazily. She really had no clue what he had said. Even as his brain struggled to keep up with her, he found it amusing. He was kind of thankful that she hadn't understood. She would have no doubt delivered a long diatribe about proper behavior which he was so not in the mood for right now.
He opened his mouth to reassure her that he wouldn't try to eat her (unless she asked, he thought smirking to himself), but at that moment, Flo walked up to the table and pulled out her order pad.
"Whaddaya 'ave?" The bored middle-aged woman asked, the words coming out in a well-rehearsed jumbled slur.
"The big breakfast with everything, hold the bacon. Plus, a side of waffles." He answered instantly, his stomach grumbling loudly.
Flo nodded as she jotted down the order before turning to Rachel, but she was still perusing the menu. Puck coughed loudly and nudged her leg gently with his own.
Rachel looked up at Flo's impatient glare. She sat up a little in her seat and asked, "As the owner of this establishment, what do you recommend for a first time patron?"
Puck's eyes narrowed. Seriously? He pulled the menu out of Rachel's grasp and grunted towards Flo, "She'll have the strawberry shortstack."
As Flo walked away, Rachel's shocked gaze turned to him and narrowed sharply. "You're quite rude, you know?"
"Yeah, well..." Puck shrugged again. "I'm tired and hungry."
"That's still no excuse." Rachel admonished. "I chose to ignore your constant swearing back at the field, and your inane grunts during our journey here. As my companion, you could at least try to be a gentleman."
"Hey, you didn't hire me to be a gentleman. You hired me to take you to New York, and I am."
"Well, couldn't you try to smile at least once? I'm sure you'd actually look handsome if you smiled."
Puck sputtered angrily. "And what the fuck does that mean?"
"Well, just look at you."
Puck's eyes narrowed as he picked up his spoon and examined his distorted figure in its back. His eyes opened comically wide as he studied his appearance. This was the first time he'd seen himself since before the accident. His entire face was smudged with dirt, and he had a big gash lining his forehead. It also didn't help that he was still wearing his brown Sheets'N'Things apron, only now it was smeared with mud. His face almost blended in with the apron. Definitely not his most appealing look. He reached up tentatively to touch the large gash on his forehead and winced as it stung beneath his fingertips.
"Well, whose fault is that?" Puck bit out defensively, before jumping up and heading straight for the bathroom.
He studied his face in the mirror, wincing as his finger traced the outline of the cut on his forehead. Leaning down over the sink, he splashed cool water on his face and tried to wash away some of the dirt. He tore off his soiled apron and lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe his face. Again, he found himself wincing in pain, but this time from a sharp pain on his chest. He pulled at the collar as far down as possible to see a large bruise forming, slanting diagonally from his shoulder, a perfect imprint of the seatbelt cutting into his skin from when his truck had tumbled and crashed to the ground.
"Perfect. Just perfect." Puck groaned, releasing the collar once more, and continued cleaning up.
When he'd finally managed to wash away the majority of the dirt, and look semi-okay, Puck walked out to find a large plate filled with eggs, sausage and toast waiting for him. Plus, his waffles. He groaned as he sat down again, barely sparing a glance at "the star" sitting across from him before digging into his food.
After shoveling a few spoonfuls into his mouth, Puck looked up to see Rachel just staring at her own plate.
"What's wrong?" his questioned muffled and his mouth full of food.
"I-um-I..." She started, her eyes shifting nervously.
Puck arched his eyebrow. "What?"
"I don't know what to do," she said timidly, her face reddening suddenly.
Puck laughed and swallowed his food. "Seriously?"
Rachel shot him an annoyed glare. "I told you..."
"... you've never eaten food before." Puck waved off. "Okay." He reached over and picked up her knife before handing it to her. "This is a knife," he explained. "And you hold it like this to cut into your food." He then moved on to her fork and showed her how to use it. "Now, you try."
Rachel looked unconvinced as she held her cutlery. She slowly cut into her pancakes, following Puck's instructions carefully.
Puck watched in amusement as she gradually brought her fork to her lips. Her eyes widened as she chewed her food and let out an almost sinful groan, causing Puck to almost groan in response. "It tastes so good!" she said excitedly, quickly eating more, a huge smile on her face.
He smirked as he watched her continue to eat, his own food momentarily forgotten.
She let out a loud squeal as she tried one of the strawberries. "What is this?" she exclaimed joyfully, attracting some strange glances from the few other early morning diners.
Puck laughed. "It's called a strawberry shortstack. The red things are strawberries, and the round pancakes make up the shortstack."
"It's positively delicious," she gushed.
Puck smiled again. "Yeah well, it's even better drenched in syrup," he said picking up the small jug beside her plate and pouring some on. He watched as she tentatively took another bite. He suppressed another burst of laughter (and another feeling she inspired down south) when her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head.
Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, savoring the taste. "Strawberry shortstack," she mumbled softly to herself, as if committing each bite to memory.
His stomach protested loudly as he watched her eat, mesmerized, reminding him of his own large plate in front of him. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her as she picked up a strawberry by its stem and brought it to her lips, letting out a soft hum as she savored the taste.
Again, Puck had to force himself to look away, picking up his fork again before returning to his food and trying to desperately ignore how hot she looked while eating and the slight tightening in his pants.
.-.
"This is your home?" Rachel asked in awe as she followed Noah up a small garden path leading to a darling two-story house. It had pink and purple gardenias lining the white brick walls. She paused momentarily, leaning over to take a closer look, inhaling their sweet aroma. "And did you plant these?"
"It's nothing much," Noah mumbled nonchalantly and shrugged while opening the front door. "My ma has a thing for flowers."
"They're lovely," she said softly, smiling to herself before following Noah inside.
Meeting Noah Puckerman had never been a part of her plan. If you had asked her initially, Rachel would have said that he would be the least likely guide she could have ever imagined for herself. On the outside, he seemed so brutish and distant. He talked harshly and swore more than needed, and that's when he decided to talk at all. And he tended to frown a lot, but in the few hours since she'd met him (or rather since she almost landed on top of him), she could tell there was more to him than meets the eye.
Don't get her wrong; what met the eye was insanely good, too. Physically speaking, that is, with his charming smirk and soulful hazel eyes, which seemed to almost dance with laughter (most likely at her, but still), when he thought she wasn't looking.
But Rachel could also tell there something more to him than his handsome brooding face.
For one, he was helping her, even when he didn't really need to. Granted, he had required a little incentive, but she was sure he was smart enough to realize that she was a star. If he had wanted to "take" the wish from her, he could have. He could have demanded that she fix his truck and just left her there. But instead, he chose to help her. There were so many different people in the world who wouldn't have, and while his initial brutish behavior was off-putting, when it came right down to it, he was a decent guy.
She wondered briefly if that would change if he knew the truth about her. The real truth. But she shook her head. She had long believed in the goodness of humanity. She wasn't about to start thinking any differently.
She could tell deep down that Noah was a man to be trusted.
He had waited patiently for her when she came across exciting new things, explaining calmly while she gushed enthusiastically. He'd pretend to huff and grumble, but still, he never told her no, which meant something. At least to her it did.
And now he was inviting her into his home.
Rachel continued following Puck into what she assumed was the family living room. She smiled when she noticed the walls lined with photo frames. Taking a step forward, she examined the photos more closely, taking in the smiling family.
Rachel knew it was only him, his mother and sister; she had somehow managed to wrangle the information from him during their walk into town. He hadn't said much but from what she could gather, the three of them were happy. Not "sunshine and rainbows happy," as Puck had adamantly stated, but "normal happy".
She smiled again as she came across a photo with all three of them. They had definitely posed for the shot. Noah looked uncomfortable as he stood behind his mother and sister, both sitting with their bodies angled towards each other. Rachel studied their faces, taking in the youth of his sister and wisdom of his mom; both showed a striking resemblance to Noah.
She moved along slowly, taking in each picture and committing them to memory. It was the first time she'd gotten a chance to see a real family up close, even if it was only through pictures.
It seemed nice.
"Here," Noah said, interrupting her thoughts. Rachel turned to see him re-entering the room. She had been so fascinated by his family that she hadn't even realized he had left in the first place. He held out a set of folded clothes and a towel towards her. "I figured you should probably change."
He continued, rushing the words out awkwardly. "Not that there's anything wrong with what you're wearing, it's just that, you know, not many people walk around like they're going to a dance."
Rachel laughed. "That's alright. I understand. Though I do love to dance!"
She accepted the clothes as Noah mumbled, "They're my ma's. Sorry I don't have anything else, but those should fit you. She's short, too." He teased.
She laughed again. "Thank you, I think."
Noah smiled at her, and if there was a word for the jittery feeling that smile inspired in her chest, she didn't know what it was.
"Come on," he led her upstairs to a bathroom. "You can get yourself cleaned up in here," he told her. He moved to leave, but when he saw the blank look on her face, he laughed kindly. "Here, I'll show you." He patiently told her how to turn the taps and adjust the water, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly before turning to leave once more, closing the door behind him.
Rachel stared at the back of the door once he had gone, swallowing nervously. He seemed in rather a hurry to leave and couldn't help but wonder why. Perhaps he was simply eager to get cleaned up too.
She set the clothes down on the bathroom counter before turning to watch the water streaming down. She felt foolish and stupid standing there, unsure what to do. She guessed she should get used to doing stuff like this. Stuff like eating and changing clothes; just everyday things that she never had to do before. She didn't come all this way to be stopped by falling water.
So Rachel took a deep breath and dove right in, so to speak. She took a step under the heavy spray, letting the water seep into her hair and long silvery dress. She watched as the fabric turned a dark shade of grey and began to cling to her body.
And she had to say… humans were weird.
Her dress got heavier and heavier as it soaked up the water, weighing her down. It felt really uncomfortable. The only nice thing about the experience was the gentle rhythmic massage of the hot shower spray, warming up her body.
She remained in the shower for a while, allowing the warm water to fall over her until it turned cold, almost unbearably cold, and she began to shiver.
She had no idea what to do next.
Stepping out of the shower, she shuffled across the wet bathroom floor, leaving a trail of water behind her. She exited out into the hallway and strained her ears.
"N-N-Noah?" She called, her teeth chattering.
"Down here," she heard him call.
Following the sound of his voice, she continued shuffling, arms wrapped tightly around her upper body. She pushed open Noah's bedroom door, which was already slightly ajar, and gulped. Suddenly she didn't feel so cold anymore. At least, not on the inside.
She watched stunned as Noah pulled a clean shirt down over his body. It was as if he was moving in slow motion. She watched in awe as he pulled the dark green shirt down, her face inexplicably heating up when she caught a glimpse of his taut stomach and tanned skin. She stared, astonished and confused. It was a completely different confusion than before when she stared at the falling water in the shower. She couldn't describe or explain it. And she wasn't sure she was quite ready to just yet.
"Woah," Noah exclaimed when he turned to face her, taking a step as he took in her appearance. His eyes seemed to darken with some indescribable emotion for a moment before he realized he was staring. He strode over to her purposefully, his eyes shifting around the room slightly, his expression becoming concerned. "What the hell? What did you do?"
"I-I-I d-d-d-don't know." Rachel shivered. "I-I-I've n-nev-ver d-d-done this-s b-before."
Noah quickly ran back to the bathroom and retrieved the pile of clothes.
He chuckled, mostly to himself, as he pulled out the towel and wrapped it around her, his hands moving up and down her arms to soak up the water.
"Crazy girl," he said, almost affectionately as he rubbed her arms. "You're supposed to take off your clothes before you step under the water."
"What?" Rachel asked astonished. "You mean, naked?"
Noah tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, letting out a low chuckle. "Er, yeah, naked."
"Oh…" Rachel replied. Her eyes shifted around the room uncomfortably. Suddenly, she didn't feel so cold anymore, but she couldn't tell whether it was due to what he was doing, the embarrassed flush rising on her face, or his close proximity to her. Probably a combination of all three.
Somehow, she felt a thrill of excitement standing this close to him. She tried to sneak glimpses of his face. He had taken a shower, too. Gone was the dirt and dried blood. His skin looked soft, yet the now clean cut now displayed on his forehead made him look even more masculine, if that was possible. It almost made her want to reach out and see if there was a difference. She was so close to him that she could even see a light smattering of freckles along his nose; close enough to recognize a faint aroma that made her think of the woods.
"It's my fault." Noah apologized. "I should've explained properly."
"No, no, I should have realized." She felt so stupid. In all her years, centuries really, of observing the human race, she'd never focused on their trivial everyday matters. It was always about the shows, the songs or the dancing. Besides, it probably would have been a great invasion of privacy if she had. It was definitely a good thing that the human race didn't realize they were being watched all the time; otherwise, there would probably be mass hysteria.
"Do you think you'll be okay now?" Noah asked, rather awkwardly but concerned. Rachel's eyes met his. Noah's hands had slowed down with only his thumbs moving in smooth circles against her arms. Rachel felt a whole different kind of shiver run up her spine as her breath caught in her throat. He continued to look down at her, gazing into her eyes. He swallowed thickly, and she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. If she didn't know any better, he seemed nervous about something.
But then the moment was over. Noah moved back, leaving the towel hanging over her shoulders. Breaking the tension in the room, his smile twitched teasingly, "Or do you need help changing? Because I could help with that, too..."
Rachel blushed again and pushed him out of the room.
"I should be quite fine, thank you."
"Are you sure?" Noah asked, his voice filling with laughter. "Because I don't mind lending you a – "
Rachel slammed the door close as his laughter grew louder, permeating throughout the house as he walked away. She changed her clothes quickly, glad that while she technically had no idea what she was doing, a basic natural instinct took over and "told" her what to do.
When she was finally done, her clothes neat and tidy as her damp hair hung down onto her shoulders, Rachel ventured out of the Noah's room and headed down the stairs towards his at whistling; obviously the food and chance to clean up had afforded him a new attitude. She found she quite liked it.
She entered the kitchen just as Noah was sticking something into a large white box, which she assumed was a refrigerator. She had heard of them before, but she'd never seen one. Well, she hadn't seen much of anything before, as she said earlier, but she never really cared. Truth be told, she had always found it all rather mundane.
"Ready to go?" Puck asked when he noticed her arrival.
Rachel nodded mutely as he turned towards her, lifting a duffle bag up onto his shoulder. She watched his muscles shifting under his shirt, and gulped as she tried to not remember how his torso had looked during those brief moments earlier.
"Great," he smiled genuinely. "Then let's go!"
"Okay," Rachel smiled back, glad that he chose not to mention her showering debacle. "Oh, I'm so excited Noah! This is my first adventure. Wait, where are we going?" She asked as Noah began steering her towards the door.
"The bus station." He said shortly.
"Great! Sounds wonderful!" Rachel enthused, before pausing. "But, um, Noah, what's a bus station?"
He laughed. "It's kind of like a bus stop."
"Oh okay. And, um, what's a bus?"
"Baby, you've got a lot to learn. But don't worry. That's what I'm here for. I'll be your guide. Stick with me, and you can't go wrong."
Rachel tried to hide a smile as she followed him out of the house. See, on the outside, he could seem dark and brooding, but on the inside… well, there was just something more. Something that intrigued Rachel more than anything human related had ever before. Maybe even more than Broadway.