Sup darlings? Sorry I didn't get a chance to leave you all a note on the last chapter about how much I love you all (a whole lot) 'cause I had zero time and a bad case of the 'I hate everybody's. The conflicting sentiments didn't work well together.

But! Here I am now! And I'm saying I love you! Like, a lot. In fact- marry me. IN FULL VIEW OF THE FANFICTION WORLD, I JAMIE HOOK ASK YOU, THE WONDERFUL READER, TO ACCEPT THIS CHAPTER AS A TOKEN OF MY COMMITMENT AND holy crap it is waaay past my bedtime.

If there was anything in this world that Rachel Berry prided herself on other than her obvious talent, it was her research abilities. These abilities were the very thing that had led her to her living room, sitting in front of Daddy's flat screen television, stacks of DVDs towering around her and a determined gleam in her eye. She was going to be a badass. And Clint Eastwood, John Wayne, Bruce Willis, Harrison Ford, Sylvester Stallone, and any other 'Badass' movie hero were going to be her teachers. She was studying for a role now, and Rachel was absolutely determined to live and breathe that role.

However, she didn't expect it to distract her. She was just going to watch one movie and take a few notes before she did her homework. Really.


"She's a little out of it," The big black one (Puck was pretty sure this one was 'Daddy', but he'd been wrong before) smiled apologetically at Puck before ushering him in the door. "She's been sitting on that couch for five hours and I don't think she's even moved."

"Whatever." Puck scowled. She had fucking invited him here after school, basically informing him that if they were going to do something they were going to do it well or she was going to rip his balls of or something, and holy hell he was not arguing with that much crazy.

He followed 'Daddy' (Dad? Hell if he knew) down the hall and was slightly surprised when he wasn't immediately led up the stairs. He hadn't actually been anywhere else in Rachel's house than her bedroom, so it was a little adventure in itself when he was led to what he assumed to be a living room, though it was too cluttered with movies to really tell, with Rachel sitting on the middle of the couch with a notepad balanced on her knee.

"You two have fun." Puck was almost positive 'Daddy' winked at him before vanishing back out the door, but he didn't have time to really analyze it as he realized what the movies were lying around the room.

If Puck had ever made a list of movies that Rachel Berry should never ever be allowed to see, every movie in that goddamn room would have been on it.

"What does Marcellus Wallace look like?"


Puck's head snapped up and it finally registered what Rachel was watching that had her dead to the rest of the world.

"Say 'what' again. Say 'what' again! I dare you! I double-dare you, motherfu—"

"Berry!" Puck threw himself at the television screen, slapping his hand down on the power button in some sort of knee-jerk reaction he had to the word 'fuck' and Rachel Berry being in the same room. It was… weird. Unnatural. "The hell were you watching?" He demanded.

"Pulp Fiction." Rachel looked a little dazed, as if suddenly snatched out of another world to which she was fully involved with. "Oh!" She finally seemed to realize who was in front of her. "Noah! I am very sorry, I simply forgot all about inviting you over to work on our assignment. I lost track of the time, which, I can assure you, is really quite unlike me and— what are doing?"

"You are not watching these." Puck decreed as he swept up Sin City and Fight Club and added them to the growing stack in his arms. Thank Holy Fuck she hadn't gotten around to watching Repo: The Genetic Opera yet. The combination of a musical and badassery might have made her head explode. Or the rest of the world.

"Yes I am." Rachel protested, standing up in her indignance, notepad clattering to the floor for him to snatch up and away from her before she had the chance. "In fact, I find John Travolta's performance an ideal example for my new goal of being both an accomplished singer and actress as well as a… a 'badass'."

"Stop saying that." Puck cringed as he started stuffing some of the DVDs down his shirt for safe storage away from her little hands. "I don't know any badasses that wear pink argyle skirts."

"Oh." Rachel looked down at her nearly microscopic skirt. "I suppose I will have to purchase some trousers."

"Jesus Christ! You don't own any pants?"

"I always thought that pants would make me appear more masculine," Rachel defended. "And with the majority of our school already addressing me with various crass implications that I was male, I wasn't about to encourage them by wearing pants." She huffed. "So I opted instead to wear more feminine attire." She smoothed down her skirt.

Puck stared at her. Next time he saw Quinn he was going to punch her in the face. Or thank her. He hadn't decided yet.

"May I have my notes back at the very least?" Rachel demanded as she held out her hand, palm open.

It was then that Puck glanced down at the notepad he had swiped from her. Scrawled across the yellow legal paper in her curly script was the title 'The Science of Badassery'. After words she had broken it down into the different types of badasses (Hero, Antihero) the reason why they become badass (Vengeance, Rescue, Selfish reasons) and the subsections off of that (For a lover, for a family member, for a stranger, any combinations of the three) the first response to a threat (Violence, Witty retort, Warning, Silence) and then a grading scale for the threats that they issued next to any quotes she had deemed important enough to jot down.

"Rachel…" Puck drawled. "This is…" really crazy.

"Genius?" Rachel snatched her notes out of his hands. "I know. I think I'm going to have to add in a section on whether they are deceased by the end of the film or not, and whether it was in a noble manner."

Puck could only stare at her again. The girl was legit insane. She was probably going to murder him and mount his 'hawk on the wall or some shit.

"Noah!" Rachel snapped her fingers in front of his face, calling his name for what appeared to be the third or fourth time.

"What?" His hand flew instinctually to his scalp and all of the movies he had been planning on taking with him tumbled to the floor.

"Can we just work on our project?" She asked, looking more than a little miffed that he'd dumped about fifty movies on her feet.

"Sure." He shrugged.

"Alright." She nodded and made to turn away before stopping herself and turning back to him. "I want my movie back." She stated.

"What movie?" He crossed his arms over his stomach.

Rachel rolled her eyes as she reached forward and faster than he could comprehend she had wrestled Dirty Harry out from underneath of his shirt.

"You are a child!" She informed him over her shoulder as she stomped away, taking Harry with her.

Puck was still reeling from the fact that Rachel had just kinda sorta undressed him a little bit.

And also the fact that she was bat-shit insane and he had no doubt that she would perfect her Science of Badassery. And when she did, Noah Puckerman was steering clear of that shit.