Title: She Will Be Loved
Author: youngerdrgrey
Pairing: Est. Puck/Zizes, Puck/Rachel
Summary: Puck has a song to sing to Rachel. Post-Original Song
Rating: T
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners (like Ryan Murphy and FOX). I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own Glee. I am merely a fan of the television show who has ideas for things that RIB could do/could've done.

Author's Note: The song is "She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5 and I don't own that either. Please review if you read.


Honestly, he doesn't know when it happened exactly. One day, he was sitting with Lauren, laughing and generally showing more of himself than he has ever done in public. The next, he's here, waiting outside of another girl's house with a guitar on his back and a stool planted firmly under his butt. The thing is, he isn't doing this just to get into someone else's pants. He hasn't abandoned his pseudo-relationship with Lauren Zizes either. He just has some feelings that need to be expressed, in the most badass way as possible. (And really, what's more badass than channeling his inner eighties hero and serenading a girl in front of the entire freaking neighborhood? Nothing.) So, here he is.

Puck scales the building with his eyes until he lands on the center of his plan. As much as she would like to convince everyone that she is spontaneous and flexible, she has the most set schedule of any teenager he has ever met. Being four-fifteen, she should be in her room, Honors Pre Calculus book open, studying at her desk. He could try to peer in and see if it's true, but that would make him more of a peeping Tom than the badass hunky dude he plans to portray.

He whips out his cell phone, dialing in her number from memory. As it goes on, the ringing slows to match his heart rate (or does his heart speed up to match the rings?). For the slightest second, he considers that she isn't home. Maybe she's practicing a song, or tutoring underprivileged elementary school kids, or chasing after Finn again. It's possible. Gosh, he's so stupid. What made him think this was ever-


Oh yeah. It's on. He wrangles together the deepest voice he can. However, the second he starts speaking, it melts away like any other pretense he has with her. He can't hide from this girl no matter how bad he would like to.

"Hey, Rach, it's me. Look outside, okay?"

It's less of a question and more of a statement. Nevertheless, Rachel dramatically huffs into the receiver. He imagines her stalking to the window from her desk, fuzzy rainbow slippers shuffling angrily atop her miraculously clean bedroom floors. She probably thinks he has some ridiculous new idea for wooing Lauren to show her. He used to have millions a day, most of which she shot down about three seconds into hearing. Today, though, he has a whole new idea – well, at least a whole new song.

It occurs to him that she's still talking, ranting in that way she always does. He doesn't fully comprehend the words, but he hears them like a soft whisper over the rushing of the blood in his body. ("This better be good, Noah; you know how much I do on a daily basis and this APUSH isn't going to do itself.") Her sentence falls away just as her face appears through the opening. Rachel looks from him on the stool to the skies above as if dancing unicorns will come flying down to add to the absurdity of the moment. Before she can find some way to ruin the eighties romance moment, he slips his phone into his shirt pocket and swings the guitar in front of him.

He says, "I know it's a few years old, but I heard this song the other day and thought of you. I-I thought of us. Just listen to it, Rach."

With that said, his fingers find the strings, plucking away and filling the street with Maroon 5.

He sings, "Beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some problems with herself. He was always there to help her; she always belonged to someone else."

It doesn't take a genius to read between those lines. No matter what, Rachel remains wrapped around Finn's finger and purring at his feet for any scraps of affection he will share with her. Then, of course, there is Jesse St. Douchebag who wound her up and walked away, leaving nothing but egg to mix with her tears. Puck would do anything to get those two back for what they've done to her.

"I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door. I've had you so many times, but somehow, I want more."

Projects for Glee could never be enough to satisfy his ever-growing Rachel Berry addiction. He would scream off rooftops how much he needs this girl if he wouldn't be risking his life up there. Instead, he pushes off of the stool for the chorus and stares up into the eyes so high above him. He sincerely hopes she accepts this.

"I don't mind spending every day, out on your corner in the pouring rain. Look for the girl with the broken smile, ask her if she wants to stay awhile, and she will be loved. She will be loved."

Rachel looks away at the L word. Is he embarrassing her, or exciting her? Either way, he can't really take this back, can he? Not that he wants to, he loves the friendship they have and what they had back when they were more too. With them, it has always been an equal relationship.

"Tap on my window, knock on my door. I-"


He jerks back to the window only to find it closed. His fingers fall off the strings to grip the guitar tightly. His mind screams obscenities. (Shit! Damnit! Shit! Shit! Shit!) He shouldn't have done this. He should never have even left his house. Why does this stuff keep happening? His life has been nothing but bad decisions since he got Quinn drunk and knocked her up. No wonder Rachel doesn't even want to listen to him. He will always be that feckless kid who got his best friend's girlfriend pregnant as a sophomore. He's a foul up, a cheater, and he doesn't deserve her. She's got bigger dreams than living in Lima (and so does he, but he's being realistic here). He probably won't get far away before he scampers back to the only world he has ever known. The world where he will always come second fiddle to one Finn Hudson.

His converse cry out as he starts the trek back to his car. He focuses on the crying he would never do instead. Emotions are so freaking stupid. It's because of them he's with Lauren, or sort of with Lauren – he never knows what they are. It's safe with her, though. He knows where it will end up. She will eventually get fed up with him and leave him, which will only lead to him chasing after more women of all shapes and sizes. They won't make it past high school, if they even make it past junior year. But, with Rachel… he could see them lasting. No, he wants to see them lasting, lasting until they get to sit on the front porch of some beach house and watch their grandchildren flinging sand at each other. At least he gets to know now that it won't happen.


He whips around and his guitar slams into the side of his car. He doesn't spare a glance, focusing instead on the girl running down the driveway towards him. He says nothing, unsure of whether or not this is actually happening or his mind is just having some fun with him. (It does a lot, especially with thoughts about Rachel.)

Again, she says his name, his given name, and she points out, "You didn't finish."

"I didn't think you wanted me to," he says.

"I did."

He considers singing again, but decides against it. He says, "There was only one other line I really wanted you to hear. It goes right after you slam the window."

She smiles a bit. He figures she already knows all the words to the song. She probably knows exactly what line he's talking about. Still, her eyes ask him to say it for her. So he does. He steps closer to her, practically nose to nose. He looks right into those eyes and sings, "I want to make you feel beautiful."

She glances away again. Seconds go by before she looks back up at him, her eyes dancing.

"Noah, you already do."

He doesn't know exactly when that happened either, but he's certainly not complaining. Nor is he complaining when she steps in and presses her lips to his. Nope, not complaining one bit.

(Though, he does consider that, maybe, the song should be in present tense instead.)