Happy Groundhog's Day darling readers! I have a gift for you on this lovely day! Please enjoy my longest and most ridiculous one shot ever. Also. My fabulous friend Sharna made a gif set for this fic. It is on her tumblr. Go to there and see her amazing photoshop skills! suckmyberries(dot)tumblr(dot)com

The time setting of this is obviously Groundhog's day. Imagine as if Michael hadn't happened though. Imagine that Finn had not yet proposed. Thank you for your imaginings. You get an A plus and gold stars for the day. I hope that you enjoy this immensely as it was a lot of fun to write.

Groundhog Day: Operation Puckleberry

February 2nd, 2012

Take One:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...

Fuck. His. Life.

Noah Puckerman brought his fist down on his alarm clock, putting an end to his misery and the ridiculous song that those douchebags sang that all the girls at school obsessed over in second grade. Seriously, Justin Timberlake is now the man cause of the hot chicks and that movie with the goddess from That 70's show, but no way was he down with being woken up by a song from over ten years ago that quite frankly sucked. Okay, so maybe he, Finn, Mike and Matt wanted to find a fifth guy so they could do the song for the third grade talent show. But they were small, idiot children. No way could they be blamed for the brainwashing that TRL put them through every damned day.

Five more minutes. That's all he wanted. Five more minutes of blissful snoozing. Maybe ten more minutes. Shit, he wondered how he could convince his ma to let him stay home for the day. Probably wouldn't take much. Seriously, have you seen his pathetic puppy dog face? There was a reason he got away with attempting to steal an ATM. She didn't even try to ground him after that.





"MA! I DID!"

"SHUT UP!" Noah screamed, taking his pillow and placing it over his face.

This was definitely going to be a bad day.


"Puckerman! We're at Defcon One. I repeat. Defcon One!"

Puck gave Kurt a look that he hoped conveyed Leave me be and you'll spare yourself a reunion with the dumpster. He was in no mood for the maudlin theatrics that was Kurt Hummel's life ever since he got his acceptance letter into NYADA. The kid seriously made a production out of everything. Last week Kurt had managed to put together an entire half-hour afterschool special with Artie on chosing the right soul mate for you. He had pissed his step-brother off royally when he cast Rachel and Puck as the leads. Finn had kicked over a bench in the school courtyard when he had found them shooting a scene there that required more than friendly touching. And the bench had been freaking screwed into the ground.

"Finchel is over," Kurt said breathlessly.

"KURT," Blaine called out from down the hall. He sprinted to Puck's locker and put his hand on his

boyfriend's shoulder. "Uhm...we should probably go."

"They broke up this morning," Kurt beamed.

Puck nodded and turned back to his locker, internalizing any and all reaction he may have had to the news. Partly to piss Kurt off. Partly for self-preservation. He didn't need to be kicked like a bench in the school courtyard. The thing had been SCREWED into the ground. And his reasoning behind that decision was 1000% because if Finn tried to kick him, he would definitely go all death star on the kid and his ass would be back in juvie. And no matter if Rachel was broken up with Finn now, by the end of the school year they would magically be back together. And Rachel would be less inclined to hang with him, help him with his sister, and bake him delicious treats if he had been incarcerated due to murdering Finn's face.

He had his priorities. Rachel's baked goods were clearly close to the top. That was all. Really. And no matter how much Kurt Hummel was shooting orders at him through his laser eyeballs at that very moment, he wasn't going to risk SHIT today.

"Sorry, Puck. We'll see you at Glee," Blaine nodded to his friend before dragging an unwilling Kurt away.

"NO. BLAINE. NO!" Kurt hissed. "He-and she-and... and NO!"

Puck rolled his eyes and phased out as Klaine argued in pretty loud whispers all the way down the hall.

He grabbed his US History book and headed off down to class, eager to get the day over with.


"Yes Satan?" Puck stopped in his track. Sure Santana finally embraced the fact that she was a lady lover and he knew there was no chance in hell either of them would want to go back down that dangerous road where they bumped their naughty bits together, but when Santana Lopez barked at you, you listened. Part of being a badass was recognizing when another badass could decimate your balls.

"Let's go gets our mack on in the janitor's closet," Santana ordered, grabbing him by the hood of his sweatshirt and yanking him down the hallway.

"WHAT THE FUCK, LOPEZ?" Puck practically roared and he struggled and fought to separate himself from her. But shit, that crazy bitch was strong. "I ain't wronging Brittany, dude. Not only would that be like kicking a sparkly fun puppy, but chick's seriously loco. Last person that wronged her wound up in the Lima Dump inside a refrigerator. No thanks."

He managed to pry her iron-clad grip off of his sweatshirt and high tailed it to the Nurse's office. He paused only momentarily in his flight in order to shoulder check Jacob Ben Israel into a row full of lockers. There wasn't any harm in that. But no way was he messing around with any other shit today. He gave the nurse his most charming smile before making his way back to his corner, where she always kept his favorite flavor of Gatorade and the coziest pillow. He was out like a light within seconds and fell into one of the deepest and yet not at all relaxing sleep.

When he finally resurfaced into the land of the living, it was time for Glee, and he grabbed his Gatorade and reluctantly made his way towards the place he definitely didn't want to be. He had managed to piss off not only Santana by turning her down, but Kurt as well by denying him the opportunity to play rebound matchmaker.

Fuck. His. Life.


His name was getting screeched way too many times today in the hallway. And he had slept through approximately four hours of school. He stopped only because the shout had seemed unfamiliar. He turned and couldn't help but look shocked at where the scream had come from.

Tina Cohen-Chang glared at him, all her hatey goth energy sending death rays his way. He held up his hands in submission and said warily,"I didn't do shit, I swear."

"Yeah, we all know," Tina scoffed. She stormed past him and joined her boyfriend, Mike Chang, who was limping around on a crutch. Next to him was Kurt, whose arm was in a highly fashionable scarf doubling as a sling.

"What the fuck happened?" Puck demanded.

"Please, pretend like you care," Kurt rolled his eyes.

Puck could only follow them as they walked slowly to Glee, meeting up with a seriously bruised Sam, who threw an annoyed look Puck's way. He watched as people ambled in, all of them looking like they had seen better days. Mercedes' weave was definitely half pulled out of her head. Quinn was holding an ice pack to Artie's shoulder, even though she looked battered and bruised as well. The only people missing were Finn and Rachel (probably making up at that very moment) and Santana and Brittany.

He didn't do SHIT, he didn't understand why the Gleek's were looking at him like he murdered Bambi's mom or whatever. Sure, a tiny part of his brain was poking at his conscious with a stick. The Gleek's were HIS gleeks. No way in hell should someone be messing with his people. He tried to understand what had happened, when Rachel shuffled in with her head down.

That's right. Shuffled.

She looked downright defeated as she meekly took a seat off to the side, a couple of rows in front of him. Schue started talking about some sort of crap about how the heart wants what it wants. Pillsbury must be on her rag and fighting with him. Whatever. Same old, same old.

Rachel turned just slightly in her seat to pass a piece of sheet music and that's when he saw it.

A huge black eye was blooming around the left side of Rachel's face.

"What the FUCK?" Puck growled standing up and rushing down the choir room stairs. He looked down at a subdued Rachel and demanded, "Who did that to you?"

"OH PLEASE CHALLAH BREAD!" Mercedes scoffed. "Like you care. You were nowhere to be found when all that mess went down. You could have prevented all this…"

"Who the fuck did this to all of you?" Puck demanded.

"It was a full on riot, really," Artie explained. "The Hockey dudes said some stuff about Kurt and Blaine and Santana…and Santana was a lot pissed off even before they opened their stupid mouths…."

"They're dead," Puck said lowly, stalking out of the choir room, despite Schue's attempts to stop him.

The next ten minutes went by very quickly, and if you asked him, he couldn't recall what he had done for the life of him. He was definitely in what Kurt had diagnosed previously as a rage induced blackout. Whatever. The only thing he knew was that he needed to crack some skulls and he needed to do it now.

He came to as his fist shattered against some douchebag's melon as Rachel Barbara Berry was shrieking at him to stop. He felt Finn and Schue pulling him off and away from the carnage and vaguely remembered Rachel carefully cradling his freaking destroyed hand. And then Coach Bieste, Figgins and some cop were there talking about the last straw.

No. The last straw had fucking disintegrated into the stratosphere when Rachel had gotten that bruise on her face and he hadn't been able to stop it.

He tried to block out the sounds of Rachel's sniffling as the cop put him in the back of the squad car.

She was drowned out though because Santana Lopez had finally shown up and was screaming at Figgins in Spanish as she pointed towards the squad car. Well, at least he knew his best lady-bro was still cool with him. He knew she had just threatened the principal's manhood. He just hoped she kept her wits about her. No one would protect the gleek's if she got arrested too.

His head leaned back against the back seat and he closed his eyes. Awesome napping aside, today sucked. His last thought as he drifted off was that he probably would appreciate the chance to try again.

Take Two:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...






"MA! I DID!"

"SHUT UP!" Noah screamed, taking his pillow and placing it over his face. He bolted out of bed and looked around in shock.

No. Seriously. What in the ever living fuck?

What had just happened?

He knew he shouldn't have eaten one of those brownies that Brittany had brought to Glee the day before. Obviously he had just had a wicked, ultra-realistic nightmare. He shook himself out of it and ambled downstairs for another round of the shit storm that was his life.


"Puckerman! We're at Defcon One. I repeat. Defcon One!"

Puck looked at Kurt warily. That had seemed more than familiar. He shrugged it off and gave Kurt a look that he hoped conveyed Leave me be and you'll spare yourself a reunion with the dumpster.

He dumped the contents of his book bag in his locker and was really eager to get the fuck away from Hummel. He did this in his dream yesterday. He was not doing it again.

"Finchel is over," Kurt said breathlessly.

"You told me that," Puck furrowed his brow.

"Yeah, well, I've always known they weren't right for each other, it used to be knowing because of spite for Rachel and now its knowing out of love for our baby Barbara. Such a thin line…anywho, now is the time for you to-"

"KURT," Blaine called out from down the hall. He sprinted to Puck's locker and put his hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Uhm...we should probably go."

"They broke up this morning," Kurt beamed.

Okay. He knew that happened already. He looked at Blaine in confusion and the former Warbler misread his expression, thinking that their escape window was getting smaller and smaller by the nano-second.

"Sorry, Puck. We'll see you at Glee," Blaine nodded to his friend before dragging an unwilling Kurt away.

"NO. BLAINE. NO!" Kurt hissed. "He-and she-and... and NO!"

Puck watched as Blaine dragged his boytoy Hummel away with a completely confused look on his face. Something was definitely not kosher.


"Freaky shit right there," Puck stopped in his tracks, turning around and swatting Santana's hand away as she reached out to grip the hood on his sweatshirt. He gave her his stoniest glare he could muster amongst the confusion muddling his brain cells.

"Let's go get our mack-"

"DUDE, NO," Puck insisted strongly. He shook his head and gave Santana one stern warning look before rushing away. "I'm fucking out of here! You guys are a bunch of assholes!"

He booked it with the aim to head to the parking lot, taking one moment to push Jacob Ben Israel into the lockers because…well just because. Kid's freaky and he's sure that somehow it was all his fault.

He sprinted to his truck and was back at his house in record time. He was going to go to sleep and nothing would happen. He wouldn't keep remembering random shit from today that seemed to already happen.

If he could sleep, he could forget what Rachel looked like with a black eye.

He woke up at three to the sound of his phone buzzing with text messages. He blissfully ignored it and went back to sleep.

Take Three:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...






"MA! I DID!"

Now was the time to officially freak the fucking fuck out.

Puck hopped out of bed and threw clothes on before rushing downstairs and glaring at his sister. To her credit, she glared right back. He looked to his ma, who simply stared back at him and questioned,

"It's five degrees outside, you can't wear basketball shorts, you'll get frostbite on your important parts and they won't work properly. Is that shirt even clean, Noah? I mean, really, how do you ever expect to impress a respectable Jewish Girl if you run around stinking of yesterday's -"

"WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING?" Puck demanded angrily. "What day is it?"

"February Second," Sarah spouted. "You missed the groundhog on the news. He saw his shadow…but how can they tell? I mean, he can't talk."

"Yesterday was February Second," Puck disputed. He shook his head and said, "AND the day before that."

"Noah, you're being silly," Sarah disputed her big brother before turning back to her breakfast.

His mother's face took on the healthy mixture of concerned and her own special blend of here we go again with my crazy idiot weed-smoking son. Puck managed to grunt out a non-committal sound that could have been translated as "I'll be right back", before he took off at a sprint, speeding through four blocks in the freezing cold February air.

Mike Chang would know. Everyone pegged Artie or Sammy as the supernerds in Glee, but it was the Changster who was the true master of the nerds. Chang liked Doctor Who. Then the nerds followed. Chang decided to watch Back to the Future every five days. Then the nerds followed. Yeah, maybe Puck followed too, but he wasn't a nerd. He just appreciated quality entertainment. But he knew, if anyone could help him, it was Mike freaking Chang.

He skidded to a stop two blocks of sprinting later, even though his mind was clearly telling his legs to keep going and get to Chang for answers. Instead, they stayed stuck to the macadam in Rachel Berry's driveway. He stared at her front door, wondering if she and Finn had ended things yet. Maybe it happened on the ride to school. Maybe the glorious end of Finchel happened in the school parking lot.

Maybe Finn was going to catch him staring at Rachel's front door.

He was answered when Rachel's front door swung open and the all too familiar sight of Rachel's shocked big brown Bambi stare looked back at him in concern.

"Noah! It's freezing out! You're going to get hideously sick!" Rachel hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"Running…uhm, fitness. I mean, a jog, just stretching," Puck stammered.

Shit. He did NOT stammer. He waved and quickly set off for Chang's house again. He caught his friend just as he was about to get in his car.

"Puck? What's up man? Where's your pants?" Mike wondered. "OH crap, did you spend the night at one of your cougar lady's houses again and have to book it before the husband got home?"

"Screw you asshole, I haven't touched a cougar in forever. Or you know, since last summer," Puck grumbled. "I have some freaky ass shit going on, Mikey. I need your help."


"So you're in a time paradox?" Mike looked at his friend questioningly. Puck had explained everything in the car ride over and neither had ever been more happy that Tina had the Thursday morning yoga class she taught in the gym before school began. She would have laughed her ass off about Puck's explanations and would have smacked Mike for even thinking about going along with it.

"This is the third time this shit's happened. Look, watch, Kurt is going to come in and be, Hey girlfriend, Finn and Rachel are donesville. GET YOU SOME…" Puck explained in quite possibly, the worst Kurt impersonation of all time.

"Puckerman! We're at Defcon One. I repeat. Defcon One!"

Puck pointed to Kurt as he rushed over to him and couldn't help but throw Chang a triumphant look that bordered on insane.

"Finchel is over," Puck said with that same crazed look in his eye at the same time as -

"Finchel is over," Kurt said breathlessly. He looked to Puck with a disappointed frown. He shrugged, going along with his original plan and saying, "Okay, here is what you need to do."

"Cue Blaine," Puck muttered to Mike.

"KURT," Blaine called out from down the hall. He sprinted to Puck's locker and put his hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Uhm...we should probably go."

"They broke up this morning," Kurt beamed.

Puck nodded and looked to Mike and muttered, "Exit Klaine."

"Sorry, Puck. We'll see you at Glee," Blaine nodded to his friend and gave Mike a smile before dragging an unwilling Kurt away.

"NO. BLAINE. NO!" Kurt hissed. "He-and she-and... and NO! MIKE. CPR! TELL HIM!"

"Okay, maybe it's just really bad de ja vu," Mike shrugged.

"Oh hold the fuck up, Chitty Chitty Chang Bang," Puck shook his head incredulously. "ENTER SATAN."


Puck turned away from Mike and gave Santana a cold, hard look. He was shocked as shit that she actually stopped from grabbing him. He took a deep breath and said, "NO. I can't make out with you. You're with Brittany now. I don't know what the fuck happened, but you love Brittany. That's it. Go to class, Lopez."

"pendejo!" Santana grumbled before turning on her heel, her cheerio's skirt flouncing spectacularly before she stomped away.

Puck turned to Mike and demanded, "Do you believe me? Even a little bit?"

"Yeah dude, I believe you," Mike nodded.

"Then do your sensei-Miyagi brain genius shit and figure this the fuck out for me, how do I make tomorrow TOMORROW and not TODAY?" Puck demanded. "I'm losing my freaking mind here, man!"

"Okay, based on pop culture, you'd have to think that you're looping this day because you have to do something that you haven't yet," Mike thoughtfully proposed. His eyes lit up and he couldn't help but grin as he hypothesized, "Maybe you're supposed to get together with Rachel!"

"If the words Puckle or berry leave your mouth, I will give you a patriotic wedgie," Puck vowed.

"I can't help it, Tina goes on about how it would be perfect and it makes a lot of sense," Mike sheepishly admitted. He raised a dubious eyebrow at his friend and asked, "Seriously tell me its not on your mind."

"The only thing on my mind is making tomorrow, tomorrow," Puck grumbled. He thought for a few moments while Mike muttered things about endgame and what Tina shipped. Fucking Tina. Puck's eyes widened suddenly and he shook his finger at his friend with excitement. "It's you guys. I went for a nap, and when I got to Glee, everyone looked like they had their asses handed to them. I'm supposed to protect you guys."

"That sounds plausible," Mike nodded. "And hey, if it doesn't work, come back to me tomorrow. Or today. Yesterday?"

"I have no idea, dude," Puck rolled his eyes as they walked down the hall together. He stopped for a second and walked across the hall to slam Jacob Ben Israel into a row of lockers. He smirked as he started to walk with Mike again. That was something he would never get sick of.


Puck managed to tag along with Mike all day, paying close attention to the things he had slept through the first two days. He was proud to say he totally avoided Kurt and Rachel all day long. He pretended to be a deaf mute in front of Tina, who was at Mike's side at every available minute, talking about how Rachel was being so strong and so upbeat about the breakup.

He didn't care. Nope. Not one bit.

They made it to the lunchroom and he realized that he had finally walked in on the main event. Rachel Barbara Berry, all five feet and two inches of her, was standing in front of one of those hockey douchebags, her hands on her hips as she stared up at him with steam practically pouring from her ears.

"Excuse me you horrible excuse for a neanderthal, you cannot talk about Santana or Brittany that way," Rachel ordered him angrily. It sounded like she was scolding a really stupid three year old. "And studies show that when men use the type of hideous names you called Kurt and Blaine, they are usually hiding their own sexuality. And in case you need me to break it down for you, this is me telling you that you secretly like boys and hate yourself for it!"

Yeah. Leave it to Rachel Berry to start a full on riot. He took a deep breath as the beard girlfriend of the mulletted hockey douchebag chucked a lunch tray at Rachel's face. With reflexes even HIS over-bloated ego was impressed with, he took two quick steps and put his hand in front of Rachel's face, deflecting the tray.

"Noah," Rachel whispered, looking up at him just as her eyes transitioned from scared and pissed to grateful and something else...relief? Happiness? Whatever. It looked good on her.

"You're going to get yourself hurt, Berry," Puck warned. "Can't have that."

The closeted mullet that Rachel had verbally accosted saw Puck's appearance as a trigger for a Battle Royale. Normally Puck would have been all over that, but Rachel had a grip on the hem of his t-shirt and he hated to admit that he really, really liked it. He couldn't help but smile down at her before looking at the hockey jersey wearing asstard coming at him like he wanted to be startin' something more than MJ. Puck did his best to shield Rachel with his body , though the girl was hellbent on keeping her hands on him (could anyone blame her?) as they both glared at the dude as the rest of the hockey team descended on the rest of the Gleek's.

"Whaddup loser?" Puck sniffed at the guy. "Whatever beef you have with us, lets talk it out rather than have your faces pounded in."

"You ain't doin' shit, Puckerman. You'll get your ass thrown back in juvie," Mullety McMulletson disputed.

"Stop talking about my ass. The only dudes that get to think about my ass like that are my gays. And you'll never get into that club unless you can figure out how to rub one brain cell against itself in hopes of making two," Puck ordered. He shook his head and let out an exasperated breath as he took a quick glance around and realized that more people had entered the fray, joining forces with the Hockey team. Now the Gleek's were under attack on all sides from the Hockey team, the yearbook staff and kids from the Bible study group that met every Wednesday morning in front of the flag pole.

Assholes. Every single one of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mullet-man's girl heading for Rachel again, claws at the ready, looking to strike. He didn't want to hit a girl, but he totally would if the bitch tried to do anything to Rachel's perfect face. Or you know, Rachel's face. Just her face.

He was about to make a move to protect Rachel when the little freak gripped his bicep with both, hands, using him as leverage as she brought both feet up in quick successive, apparently very powerful kicks. The bitch hit the floor, gripping her throat and Puck gave Rachel an incredulous, incredibly impressed raise of his eyebrow.

"Please, daddy knows I'll be in New York someday, learning to defend myself from attackers only came in second to vocal and dance lessons, Noah," Rachel explained.

Both Rachel and Puck winced as they heard Artie scream out in sudden agony and Quinn let out a lion like roar as she jumped on the back of whoever had dared to take a shot at the kid in a wheelchair. Puck couldn't help but take a bit of pride as he saw the reason why, Artie had been hurling plastic lunch platters at people and was still going at it with excellent aim. A few feet away from where Quinn was slamming her fists on the back of the head of the guy she had jumped was Mercedes, who despite having her weave in the grips of a yearbook witch, was still kicking shins all over the place. Mike was on the ground and Tina was tending to him whilst Kurt protected them with what looked like a bottle of mace, but was in fact hairspray.

Blaine was seriously scrapping on the other side of the room, taking on a few dudes thrice his size. Puck thought the former Warbler's form looked familiar and wondered if he might have seen him at his out of town fight club exhibitions. Just when it looked like the little dude was going to get overwhelmed and Puck took a step to help, Sammy-boy showed up and threw himself into the fray. Rachel tightened her grip on his arm and looked at him sternly,

"Noah, please listen to me when I tell you, that Regionals are three weeks away, and I absolutely refuse to let you enter this ridiculous brawl because you and I both know you will be expelled and possibly sent to the juvenile correction facility," Rachel speedily and impressively warned him. She paused and held up a finger, actually getting the next ambusher to pause as she continued. "I will fight this battle. Thank you very much."

"The hell you will!" Puck scoffed.

"Observe," Rachel said simply as she beckoned for the next attacker, a douchebag from the water polo team that was seriously pissed about the Glee club utilizing the pool the other week when practice was supposed to have occurred. The guy looked at Rachel in incredulity as the petite brunette held her hand out palm up and beckoned, Bruce Lee style, for the idiot to rush at her.

The three of them stood still amongst the chaos. Rachel's invitation for combat clearly opening up a dimensional portway into West Bumblefuck or Narnia or some shit. Their peaceful little confusion bubble burst however, when the mullet-y fuckwad that started this shit took a cup of something and threw it in Rachel's face.

The sound of her painful screeching caused the whole cafeteria to stop and stare as Rachel Berry held her hands to her burnt face.

He had thrown a bowlful of piping hot soup at her.

The feeling of his rage blackout was remarkably similar to what he had felt that first Groundhog's day and he leapt on the the guy as Santana and Brittany rushed to Rachel's aide. Puck took one second to take in the angry red welts and marks on Rachel's face as a well-meaning Brittany blew on it, claiming, "It's not so hot when I blow on my soup."

The anger and dark red fury filled Puck to the point where he thought he might burst. He tackled Rachel's attacker to the ground and his fist beat out an incredibly fast rhythm against the kid's face. He felt strong, gigantic hands on his shoulders, lifting him off the unconscious asshole who could have used at least fifteen more minutes of solid beating.

"GET HIM OUT OF HERE!" Santana barked somewhere behind him. "Jesus Christ, he turned his face into pizza!"

Puck began struggling against the arms dragging him out of the cafeteria. Blaine and Kurt were in the hallway with Puck and Finn, who was trying and failing to drag Puck down the hall. Blaine snapped his fingers in front of Puck's face and in a commanding, yet oddly soothing voice began to calm Puck down,

"Look, look at me, Noah."

It was the Noah that did it really, if truth be told. It automatically associated him with his mom, little sister and Rachel.

"Mike and Santana said we have to get you out of here before the cops come," Blaine said with that same powerfully soothing demeanor, somehow getting through to him. "San and Brittany are trying to do some mind voodoo in there to get you off the hook. Rachel's not going to press charges against Mertz so long as he doesn't press charges against you."

"The fuck she will!" Puck growled.

"HEY! Noah!" Blaine snapped his fingers in front of his face again. He was obviously very adept at dealing with people in anger comas. Puck knew the kid reeked of fight club. "We're heading to Dalton so we can hide you until this thing blows over. Don't make me knock you out."

"You're going to have to, dude," Finn shook his head as Puck was barely containable at that point.

"I agree," Kurt nodded. "Just try not to disfigure him. Or give him more damage to the brain than he already clearly has."

"Fine, you'll thank me later, man," Blaine promised, pulling back his fist as Finn found renewed energy to keep Puck immobilized.


Take Four:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...



Puck woke up with a flinch, still seeing Blaine's fist coming towards him.

So that didn't work. He pulled on the clothing closest to him and took off in search of Mike, hoping his friend would have the answers to get the day right again. He had a feeling it still had to do with making sure Rachel didn't get a black eye or multiple third degree burns all over her perfect face.

He managed to pull it off too. He went through the whole Klaine interaction and hid from Santana's advances before pushing Jacob Ben Israel into a locker. He arrived at Rachel's locker and gave her desperate look.

"If I don't pass math, they're going to make me ineligible to compete at Regionals," he lied easily. He was kicking ass at math. Granted he was with the junior's in math class, but at least it was the junior freaking Einsteins. He gave Rachel what he hoped was a truly pitiful glance as she gripped his arm and led him straight for the library.

He ordered a half everything half no cheese veggie pizza and a salad and seriously annoyed the library when the delivery guy shouted his name from the front door. Rachel, in the desperate quest for a full and complete Glee club for senior year Regionals, managed to convince, with the emphasis on con, all of her teachers to excuse her for the day.

At the end of the day, everything seemed to be fine. Sure he split with Rachel at the doors to Glee and ignored any and all inquisitive stares from the rest of the curious Gleek's. He made it through Schue blathering on and on about wanting what the heart wants. The Gleek's were all in tact, not a hair out of place. Rachel's face was still perf-Rachel's face. All in all, awesome day. He rushed out of the door turning down something nerdy with Chang and a Madden session with Finn.

He couldn't wait to go to sleep and finally get to February 3rd.

Take Nine:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


"I'M AWAKE!" Puck shouted back.

Yeah. The key to February 3rd definitely wasn't just stopping the fight. He had stopped the fight five times now. It wasn't going to work. He had to figure something else out. But quite frankly, he was sick of trying.


"NOAH DON'T SCREAM IN THE HOUSE!" his mother screeched back.

" 'M SICK!" Puck shouted back.

An audible sigh was heard from downstairs and a warning that was this was the last time. But it was a sigh that signaled victory. Puck managed a small smile of victory and buried himself under the covers. He grabbed his phone on the way into his cavern of bedsheets and sent a text to Mike telling him to gather the gleek's for lunch in the choir room. Pizza would be delivered and all the Gleek's would be safe. No worries.

He managed to make it to an hour past lunch time before the rocks started hitting his bedroom window. The rocks soon turned into tapping, and holy shit...

Rachel Berry was on roof in front of his window, rapping her right hand against the window and waving frantically with her left. He hopped out of bed and opened the window, not quite beleiving that his dream from two years ago was literally coming true.

"You weren't in school. I was worried...I brought soup," Rachel said quickly. She looked down at her empty hands and sheepishly admitted, "I left the soup on the ground outside. I couldn't have possibly climbed the trellis with the soup in hand."

"At least you're wearing shoes," Puck muttered, staring at Rachel in awestruck amazement.

"I was worried," Rachel repeated, her cheeks blushing as she looked down. He was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts.

"I'm fine," Puck shrugged. "So, I'm alive. Just didn't feel like going to school. Can you go now?"

"Noah! That's an incredibly rude way to treat a guest that brought you sustenance in your time of need!" Rachel scolded. "I-you..."

"Hell is definitely freezing over, Rachel Berry just freaking stammered," Puck quipped.


Puck's eyes widened as he became suddenly fascinated with the way Rachel's super long eyelashes brushed against her blushing cheeks. Shit.

"So...d'you wanna make out?" he asked.

Rachel looked up at him and shrugged, fighting a small smile. "Sure," she whispered.

And then his life fucking officially turned into a chick flick. He swore he heard Enrique Inglesias' Hero playing in the background as he walked slow motion towards Rachel, wetting his lips in anticipation as he ducked his head towards hers. Fucking finally.


"Mother fucking shit," Puck grumbled as he heard what sounded like a herd of elephants rushing up the stairs. He set the glare on his face as the door bounced open and Finn was standing there, breathless and definitely pissed off.

Finn took in the sight of Puck's state of undress and Rachel's flushed face and his anger quadrupled. He pointed at Puck and promised, "You're dead!"

"FINN!" Rachel hissed. "You have no right. We're OVER, if your brain could possibly expend itself to the point where you can remember less than twenty-four hours ago!"

"Why do you always go running to him, huh? He's a jerk and a loser!" Finn accused.

"Don't talk about Noah that way!" Rachel yelled.

"You know what?" Puck demanded suddenly. He looked at Finn and wasted one second in mulling it over before his hand reached out and flat-out slapped his best friend. It wasn't as satisfying as a punch, but it was good enough. "Both of you get out. Go and sort out your shit. I'm sick of being the guy in the middle."

"Noah!" Rachel protested. "I-"

"GET OUT! I'm not your rebound, Berry!" Puck shouted. He pushed a shell shocked Finn out of the door and turned to see a frustrated Rachel. Rather than manhandle her he pointed authoritatively towards the door.

She huffed away, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment and the glistening of tears in her big brown eyes. He remained unmoving, and did his best to keep his resolve as she stomped away from him as angrily as she could.

Fucking crazy ass day no matter what he did. He had to get out of this loop. At any cost.

Take Seventeen:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


"I'M AWAKE!" Puck shouted back.

He swore to all the gods that he could remember at the moment, that if he ever got to tomorrow, he was going to use the rest of his life to track down every member of Nsync and kick them in the balls. He'd tried everything. EVERYTHING. Nothing worked. He had done a couple days of staying at home and every time Rachel would show up but before they could set up shop in make-outsville, Finn would come barrelling in.

The slapping had been awesome though. He was going to have to work that in on the days he didn't try to stay home from school. But today? Seventeen Groundhog's Days. He was definitely not going to school today.


"NOAH DON'T SCREAM IN THE HOUSE!" his mother screeched back.

" 'M SICK!" Puck shouted back.

The telltale audible sigh was heard from downstairs and a warning that was this was the last time. But it was a sigh that signaled victory. He waited until he heard the hustle and bustle of them leaving the house before ambling downstairs to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and grinned when he saw his mom's fresh six pack of Heineken. She told her friends she drank wine to take the edge of, but she hated the shit. Beer was in the Puckermen blood.

He cracked open a can and guzzled half of it in one gulp. Yeah, he would have to text Rachel that he was deathly ill and highly contagious today. She and the jolly green giant would have to stay the fuck away, because he was going to get his drink on.

The six pack was demolished within the hour and he was cracking open his emergency bottle of jack when a thought crossed his brain that he realized was both horrifying and genius at the same time. Also, it was important to include that it was a drunk thought.

He grabbed the cans that he had smashed against his head and loaded them into the microwave. He nodded before going to the silverware door and grabbing handfuls of spoons and forks. For good measure he rushed to his mother and sister's bathroom and grabbed an armful of aerosol cans. Everything went into the microwave and he quickly blew out the pilot lights on the stove and cranked them to high.

The most thought he put into the entire process was wondering what preset button to press on the microwave. Popcorn wasn't long enough. Defrost seemed not strong enough. Finally he just set it for eighteen pounds of frozen vegetables and hit start. He rushed upstairs to his bedroom and dove into the bed head first, eager and incredibly foolish enough to see how his little experiment worked out.

Take Thirty-Three:


I'm doing this tonight


Well, today was the day for a nice long bubble bath in the morning.

Puck ignored the screaming of his mother and sister that he swore was ingrained into his brain. Instead, he started a really warm bath, using all of his little sister's cotton candy smelling bubbles and a bottle of Axe body wash for the hell of it.

He walked downstairs and grabbed the toaster right out from under his mother's nose and rushed back upstairs, grabbing the english muffin that had been mid-toast and chomping down on it as he settled into the tub. He plugged the toaster in again and took a deep, relaxing, almost zen-like breath before letting it drop...

Take Thirty-Four:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


"YEAH YEAH YEAH!" Puck screamed back.

Fuck this shit. He can't even kill himself out of the loop. There had to be an escape somehow.

He tossed on clothing before rushing down the steps, grabbing the keys to his truck as he rushed out of the door. The car was started and screeching out of the driveway before his mother could even launch into her patented tirade about freezing his nuts off and denying her of the God given right to Jewish grandbabies.

He was going to get the fuck out of the loop. He was going to get the hell out of Lima. He drove past Rachel's house and his foot hit the brake on its own accord. He damn near started to hyperventilate as he shook off the freeze he was in as her front door opened. The screeching of tires could probably have been heard all over Lima, but he didn't give a rat's ass.

He had to get out of there. He cruised down the Lima streets, not even bothering to pause at the stop signs or red lights. The only time he even veered was when he saw Jacob Ben-Israel waiting at his bus stop. Then he veered maniacally in the kid's direction before jerking the wheel in the opposite direction at the very last moment possible.

The terrified high pitched squeal was almost as gratifying as a shoulder check into the locker.

He drove west, 95 miles an hour in a 25 mile per hour zone, counting down the seconds until he reached Lima's city line. He could see the bright green sign ahead.

You are now leaving Lima, Ohio. Come back and see us sometime!

Hell no. He was going to keep on driving and never, ever, EVER come back. Fuck the whole town. Fuck Groundhog Day. Fuck it all.

Take Thirty-Five:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


"Seriously?" Puck grumbled to the heavens as he punched the alarm clock straight across the room.

So, to be clear...

He couldn't kill himself into February 3rd.

He couldn't escape the hell that was Lima on February 2nd, 2012.

But then again...

He was freaking INDESTRUCTIBLE.



He smirked as he took his time dressing that day, going with his most badass outfits, the one he had worn to serenade Mercedes' with The Lady is a Tramp, kick-ass fedora and all. He waltzed downstairs and kissed his stunned and for once SPEECHLESS mother on the cheek and ruffled Sarah's hair before grabbing his car keys and practically skipping to his truck.

First stop? Jacob Ben-Israel's bus stop. Cause that shit was too much fun the first time.

With the near miss of slamming into Jewfro with his truck, and the frightened squeal still ringing in his ear, Puck drove to the 7-Eleven by the school. Instead of parking in his usual spot, he slammed straight into the store.

See the last year he had been stupid to try and use his mom's car.

It was much easier to get the damned ATM on the bed of his truck.

He waved at an astonished store clerk as he drove off, intent on getting to the Sunoco on the other side of town before Lima National Bank opened up.

Today was going to be an awesome Groundhog's Day.

He had his second ATM in the bed of his truck as he stopped at McDonald's to get a couple of Egg McMuffin's with extra bacon on it when his cell phone began blowing up. He grinned down at the phone before picking it up and jovially asking,

"Wordup Berry-licious? I'm making a run on the McDonald's, I know you like the oatmeal and its totally kosher and vegan, you want some?"


Puck grimaced as he held the phone away from his ear. He sighed and said, "Tomorrow, I'm totally going to remember to not have the phone at my ear."

"What are you TALKING about?" Rachel screeched over the phone. "You're on the news, Noah. Not just the local news. YOU'RE ON GOOD MORNING AMERICA!"

"Awww, babe. You jealous you didn't get to get your gab on with Sam Champion before me?" Puck laughed.

"NOAH, state troopers are approximately one mile away from you right now, and they are going to shoot you. OR worse, arrest you and lock you away before Regionals!" Rachel warned. A quick, petulant huff followed before she muttered, "And I liked Sam Champion when I was eight, you can't hold that against me..."

"Admit that you love Champion's soulful, homosexual baby blues!" Puck laughed. He rolled his eyes and added in annoyance, "But I guess you're sold on big ole puppy dog brown now..."

"Actually, I quite prefer hazel."

Any smart remark he had lined up in his brain fizzled at that firm declaration. Hazel.

He had hazel eyes.

"NOAH, the state troopers are descending upon your location," Rachel whispered. "Oh please, don't do anything reckless...please..."

Hazel. She preferred hazel.

Oh, he had to start the day over again. Had to.

"See you tomorrow, Rach," he muttered, before hanging up the phone despite her anxious pleas. He gunned the engine of his truck and rushed out of his place in line at the drive-thru window. He set his course of direction west, swerving to avoid the cop cars that followed. Today had to reboot and reboot now.

He couldn't really be blamed that the high speed chase went by Ben-Israel's bus stop and he got one good swerve and ensuing shriek before he rushed back to the main road out of Lima.


He jolted as the state trooper closest to him hit the back of his truck, forcing him into an uncontrollable spin, three-hundred and sixty degrees after three-hundred and sixty degrees. He closed his eyes tightly as just before he reached the welcoming green Leaving Lima sign, his truck spun off the road and slammed through the guardrail. He was airborne, letting out an involuntary whoop as the truck sailed into the bottom of an unforgiving ravine.

Take Thirty-Six:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...



"I'm up!" Puck said almost quietly. He jumped out of bed and looked around wildly, his adrenaline still pumping from his actions of the day before.

First stop. Chang.

He managed to convince his friend prettily easily by the time they got to school, and just like all the other times he had pulled Mike into it, the damned kid managed to bring up the dreaded word.

"You don't think this is about Rachel?" Mike wondered as he looked down the hallway where Rachel was quietly at her locker. "I mean, your feelings for her. How she might return them...how she and Finn are done now..."

"Maybe..." Puck admitted softly.

Mike's eyebrows shot straight up into his hairline as he watched Puck walk slowly away. Mike's concern for Puck's demeanor lessened slightly as he watched the mohawked wonder shoulder check Jacob Ben-Israel into a row of lockers, then walk up to Finn and slap him before walking away calmly.

He hadn't asked Puck how many Groundhog's days he had been through, but to Mike it looked like an awful lot.

Puck followed Rachel, watching her carefully. She looked sad. Shit, of course she looked sad. She and Finderella had just ended their epic romance, again. Maybe he was supposed to help her get through it. Maybe he was supposed to be her rebound before she and Finn eventually reunited and rode off into the sunset.

He peeked into the choir room, and watched as she idly pecked at the keys to the piano. She looked sad.

He hated that almost as much as he had hated seeing her hurt on those first few Groundhog's Days.

He walked into the choir room and gave her an understanding smile.

"What can I do to make you happy?" he wondered.

"Noah?" Rachel looked up, flushed and surprised at his sudden appearance and earnest question.

"You look like you're having a bad day," Puck shrugged. "Can I do something? Like go talk some sense into Finn?"

"No," Rachel said resolutely. She shook her head and gave him a careful, considering look. She bit her lip before saying, "No offense, but you look like you're having quite the bad day as well."

"Yeah...more like a bad month," Puck nodded. "Bad eternity."

"It can't be all bad forever," Rachel shook her head with earnest insistence. "Take a day for yourself, Noah. Focus on what you love doing. Things will turn around, I promise you."

"I came in here to comfort you, or you know, whatever," Puck chuckled. "You always have to exceed everyone else and shit."

"Language, Noah," Rachel chided with a friendly smile.

"So you and Finn?"

"We're finished," Rachel said insistently.

"You sure?" Puck mumbled. "I mean, you guys have been finished before..."

"I can assure you. It's really finished this time, Noah," Rachel said resolutely. She looked at him and sighed, seeing that his gaze was firmly stuck on the ground at his shuffling feet. "We never wanted the same...things."

"Right," Puck nodded. He chanced a glance upwards and could feel his stomach turning at the look in her eyes. Beaming directly at him. He could feel the panic and the urge to run building as he stammered out a quick question, "Hey, Berry...if you had one day to live over and over again...same day. What would you do with it?"

Rachel blinked at the randomness of his question, before biting her lip in serious thought.

"I suppose I would spend that day, obviously perfecting all of my skills, so that when the next day came, I would be absolutely perfect," Rachel smiled when Puck chuckled. "And then...I would just spend the rest of the time doing things that make me happy."

"Huh," Puck nodded. "Interesting."

"What would you do?" Rachel questioned back. "With infinity in one day?"

"Kill myself a bunch, steal some ATM's...find new and impressive ways of swearing," Puck rattled off. He smirked and said, "Slap Finn in the face once a day and make sure that Jew-fro wets himself in fear."

Rachel rolled her eyes, even though her mouth was turning into an amused smile. She managed to shrug and said softly, "Maybe it would be better to find less violent and destructive things to fill the time."

"Violence and destruction make me happy," Puck disputed.

"Those aren't the only things that make you happy, Noah," Rachel said softly.

Uhoh. There was that tone in her voice. It made his stomach turn again, threatening to spill its english muffin he had grabbed before rushing off to Mike Chang's house that morning. He knew then. He knew what he wanted to do.

He wanted to make her happy.


Take Forty-Two:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


He was up and out of bed before his mother or sister could screech at him anymore. He had been at the same agenda for days now.


He SUCKED BALLS at research, but he was trying. Today was going to be plan double D.

Today he was going to make sure that Rachel and Finn didn't break up.

First things first. He had to avert the fight in the cafeteria. This was easily accomplished on his morning jog to Chang's house by slashing the tires on the soccer captain's jeep and leaving a note signed by the mullet-douche on the windshield. Sure Rachel had told him that it would be better to avoid violence and destruction, but he was Puckzilla. Not SAINT Puckzilla.

Step two. Get to the Hudson-Hummel abode and stop Finchel from breaking up.

The loop was happening for a reason. And he figured that reason was God telling him to help a fellow Jew out. It wasn't enough making sure Rachel wasn't physically injured. She had to be emotionally okay too. If Rachel and Finn didn't break up today, then maybe she'd be happier. Maybe he could get to tomorrow.

"Word up Hudson!" Puck cheerily greeted as he jogged up to the driveway just as Finn was sulking his way out of the house. He held up a hand when his friend tried to say something and interrupted, "I know, whatever, blah blah blah. Don't talk. Just go with me here. I'm saving you from heartache."

With that, he tackled Finn to the ground, maybe just maybe slapped his face a little before dragging him out back.

"DON'T KILL ME DUDE!" Finn shouted.

"SHADDUP, I'M HELPING YOU OUT!" Puck hissed. "I'm saving you an assload of heartache."

With that, Puck managed to gag his best friend, muffling his shouts and protests. He smiled gleefully at his handiwork before pulling the rope out of the pocket to his hoodie.

"This way, you don't break up with Rachel, and you stay happy and she stays happy and then, I get to tomorrow," Puck muttered as he went happily about his work, tying Finn to a tree in his backyard. "Just stay here, and I'll tell Hummel to untie you later tonight."

Finn began shouting anew from underneath his gag, shaking his head violently back and forth. Puck rolled his eyes before easing the gag out and demanding,


"I didn't break up with Rachel...she broke up with me over the phone this morning," Finn grumbled. "What'd you do to make that happen PUCK?"

"WHAT?" Puck repeated, staring at Finn in slack-jawed amazement. "I didn't do shit."

"Yeah right, first that little video you did with her for Kurt," Finn spat out. "Then all the attention you've been-"

"I didn't do a damn thing! I SWEAR!" Puck roared.

"Why do you always have to ruin my things?" Finn demanded. "First it was my baseball card collection when we were seven...then Quinn...now..."

Puck stopped Finn's whining tirade short by pulling back his fist and knocking the kid out cold. He lazily tied him to the tree and turned to walk away.

His plan had been to keep Finchel together and Rachel happy. But Rachel had been the one ending shit. How was he supposed to get her to NOT do it.

He rolled his eyes as he went through the motions of his day. No way was he getting out today. This only meant more research.


Take Forty-Three:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


Yeah yeah yeah. He was up.

Step one. Stop the cafeteria fight.


He watched her intently throughout the day. Sure, he was being extra-strength creepy, but it was all for the cause. Get Rachel happy. Make himself happy through extension. Get to February Third.

He saw her moping about a little. Share a few quiet, hushed conversations with the Gleek's. Console Brittany for all of third period. Talk Hummel down from his crazed high fourth period. Chit-chat with Tina and Mercedes fifth period.

He locked Ben-Israel in a janitor's closet when it became clear that they were both stalking the same Rachel Berry-prey. Creepy ass bastard.

He noticed Finn sneering and tossing mean comments Rachel's way all day. Not to mention the glares he himself was receiving.

Around seventh period it all became too much. And Puck decided to make a detour to the locker rooms at the end of Hudson's gym period prior to Glee.

"Came to steal my used gym shorts, too?" Finn muttered at his friend.

"You did NOT just sort of compare Rachel to a pair of used gym shorts," Puck growled at him.

"Seriously, Finn?" Sam questioned from the other side of the locker room. "You're an asshole!"

"ME? What about PUCK? He's the asshole that steals everything from me!" Finn yelled.

"Au contraire, mon frere by marriage," Kurt scoffed as he wiped at his face with step three of his skin care routine. "Puckerman did nothing this time around."

"Steal my brother too," Finn huffed in a whisper.

"That's it. We're done," Puck shook his head. "All in favor of giving Finn a patriotic wedgie?"

"HOLLA!" Mike hooted and clapped his hands together in excitement.

The Glee boys worked in such perfect synchronization against their male lead, that not fifteen minutes passed before Finn was being hoisted up the flag pole. Schue had taught them about choreography, but seriously, that was good freaking work.

"Should we salute?" Kurt wondered as Finn yelled at them to let him down, even as students began milling about outside.

"Sing some sort of anthem?" Blaine offered helpfully.

"Every day should be this good," Mike chuckled, high-fiving Puck in appreciation.

Puck smirked and nodded. Yup. That was now added to the list. Creative wedgies to Finn Hudsen every Groundhog's Day he had to go through. He knew of at least fifty different types, just to keep him from getting bored.


"Shit dude, do you want me to take the bullet?" Sam offered. "Rach'll kill us if we get you suspended."

"It'll be fine, see you ladies later," Puck grinned, practically skipping to Figgins' office. He was pretty sure he would get a mulligan on this one.

Take Sixty-Nine:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


Today was a very special Groundhog's Day. There would definitely be an increase in the ratings. He would take a break from his planning, his rehearsing, his stalking and his researching. He would take a break from his mission and treat himself.

He went through the motions of his morning, on auto-pilot right up until the moment Santana Lopez was about to drag him away. He gripped her hand and looked down at her with his most serious look he could muster.

"You sure about this, Lopez?" he demanded.

"I don't do shit that I'm not sure of," Santana scoffed, gripping his hand and leading him to their favorite janitor's closet of hookups past.

"It's going to fuck things up with Brittany," he reminded her, as he shut the door behind them.

"I've already fucked that up," Santana mumbled. "We're fuckups. You know? So let's just fuck shit up together."

"Santana," Puck said softly. "You're not a fuckup."

"Then explain why I'm here with you," Santana countered.

"Cause you're scared?" Puck shrugged. "Cause you love Brittany so much you don't want to screw it up by accident so instead, you've got it twisted in your head that you're going to do it on purpose? Cause this school is full of losers who make you feel like shit and you want to shut them up by deciding to pretend to be bi-sexual instead of full on Ellen Degeneres Gay for Brittany Pierce?"

"Shut the fuck up, Puckerman!" Santana grumbled hotly. "You're one to talk about getting it all kinds of twisted in your brain! Rachel Berry is walking around the place with a lady boner for you and your doing ten kinds of shit nothing about it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Puck demanded.

"She broke up with Finn," Santana shrugged.

"Yeah, I've heard. So what? She wants to make out with me for some kicks before crawling back to the assbucket?" Puck scoffed. "No thanks."

"Get your head outta your ass, pendejo!" Santana shoved him in the shoulder. "She broke up with Finn because she has feelings for you that she can't bury or cry-sing out of her system."

"Bull shit," Puck whispered. "Stop deflecting your shit onto me."

"Hi, Pot? It's the kettle and you're fucking black!" Santana mocked. She rolled her eyes and gestured between them, "Are we fucking or what?"

"I don't know if I feel like getting my dick bruised anymore today," Puck snorted. He met Santana's glare with an incredulous one of his own and reminded her, "Your grip is kind of like a freaking bone crushing claw when you're angry. I don't feel like putting the Puckerone through all that."

"You're an asshole!" Santana yelled.

"And you're a bitch!" Puck yelled right back.

"I swear to God, if the tiny Jewish Dancer wouldn't kill me for it, I would crush your windpipe!" Santana threatened.



"Are we REALLY going to have angry sex?" Puck demanded.

"If you ever manage to find your dick with two hands, a search crew and an extra-high powered flashlight, then YEAH, we are!"


"Fucking shit," Santana blew out an exasperated breath and looked to the front door. Immediate tears sprung in her eyes when she saw Rachel and Brittany standing there, both with nearly identical hurt looks on their faces. Santana screwed her eyes shut and bit her lip as she whispered, "Dammit."

"This isn't what it looks like," Puck said quietly.

"I'm going to destroy you," Brittany said lowly, before taking Rachel by the elbow and speed-walking away.

"Shit," Puck grumbled. He didn't have to worry how this one was going to end. Brittany would have him dead within the half hour.

Take Seventy:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


Oh thank the dear sweet G-man that he got another chance. He did NOT want to have to end it all under the dump truck of marshmallow peeps that Brittany had somehow managed to get her hands on. And that wasn't even the worst part of yesterday's today.

It had been Rachel's face when she and Brittany had interrupted his idiot moment with Santana.

She had looked hurt.

As he threw on his clothing and set about his typical morning routine with a renewed energy that hadn't been with him for at least fifty-two Groundhog's Days, his resolve strengthened with the epiphany coursing through his veins.

God was doing him a solid. First he gave him the dream about Rachel during sophomore year. And now he was stuck in this time loop. It was God's way of telling him that He was waiting patiently for Puck to get into Rachel's pants.

He arrived at Chang's house and in a rush that left no room for interruption explained,

"I'm stuck in a time loop. No. It's not a trickster. No. It's not Gabriel, the angel. It's God. He wants Puckleberry. Call Tina and I'll text Kurt. I need some help."

He was thankful for his post-epiphany high twenty minutes later when he, Mike, Kurt, Blaine and Tina were hunkering down for a planning session in one of the sound proofed rehearsal rooms next to the choir room. He was trying to avoid the grinning, idiotic, blissfully happy looks of Kurt and Tina when the door opened and Brittany and Santana piled in.

"Is it true? Is Puckleberry coming back?" Brittany asked breathlessly. "I'm so excited, this is more exciting than when Joey ran through Capeside to get to the docks before Pacey left."

"Oh God. What have I gotten myself in to?" Puck whispered. He gave Blaine a grimace when the former Warbler gave him a sympathetic elbow nudge to the ribs.

"Hopefully you'll be getting yourself into the Jewish Keebler Elf's panties," Santana smirked at him. She shrugged and said, "I figure she'll loosen the death grip on the solos if she was getting regular orgasms."

"Okay, I call this unofficial meeting of the Committee for the Puckleberry Reunion to order," Kurt said with excitement. "Please let it be noted that this is an emergency meeting, and therefore, we will not be going through our usual procedures."

"Usual procedures?" Puck furrowed his brow. "You guys have done this before?"

"Bi-monthly meetings at Brittany's place," Blaine whispered. "Her mom makes rice krispie treats for us."

"And we usually have a song," Mike nodded.

"Reinactments twice a year," Tina shrugged.

"Guys, look, while I appreciate the help, this is CRAZY WACKED IN THE HEAD," Puck turned an incredulous look on each of his well-meaning friends. "I just need some advice."

"Trim up the 'hawk," Santana offered. "It looks like a squirrel died on your head."

"Wear more clothes that show your biceps," Kurt piped in eagerly, throwing an apologetic look to his boyfriend.

"More belt buckles," Tina clapped her hands together.

"It draws the eye to where you should want her eyes," Brittany nodded. "Also, wear a belt buckle on your forehead, because your eyes are pretty too."

"Okay dude. Before your head explodes," Mike held up his hands to quiet the overly zealous members of the Committee. He gave Puck his best encouraging look and said, "If you want to rekindle your romance with Rachel...you just really need to spend some time with her. I'm 99.9 percent sure that's all it'll take."

"Huh," Puck nodded. He pursed his lips thoughtfully before skeptically demanding, "REALLY?"

"Oh LORD," Santana rolled her eyes. "She wants a ride on your disco stick and she's RACHEL. All it takes is a little attention, maybe a solo dedicated to her and possibly a blood sacrifice to Liza Minnelli and you're IN. Now can you leave? You're distracting us from our meeting."

"If I leave are you guys going to plan crazy shit?" Puck asked warily.

"I can get my hands on 100 pounds of Red Hot Dollars by the end of the day," Brittany said with an alarming amount of excitement.

"Okay, peace," Puck threw up two fingers and let his crazy Glee-mates descend into complete backassward lunacy.

He headed to the second floor, casually entering the first period French class that he knew Rachel had. He plopped into the desk beside her and gave her his best smirk and eyebrow raise he could manage.

"Noah?" Rachel whispered.

"Rachel?" he whispered in return, adding in another eyebrow raise for good measure.

"You know that you take Spanish this time of day, don't you?" Rachel asked earnestly.

"I've decided to switch things up a bit," Puck shrugged, his smirk growing over the fact that she knew his schedule.

"This is French 4, Noah. It's a special class that only three people take," Rachel hissed.

"I know French," Puck shrugged.

"We're not talking about kissing, Noah," Rachel rolled her eyes, despite the smile growing on her face. She saw that he was about to throw another round of banter at her and held up her hand to interrupt him, "If the words voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir leave your mouth, I simply cannot be blamed for the insane, uncontrollable mocking laughter that I will be forced to expel."

"Alright, alright," Puck nodded. "I'm auditing."

"The fourth year of French?" Rachel giggled in spite of herself. "In the February of our SENIOR year?"

"One of these days, I'm going to knock your socks off with my Frenchy speaking skills," Puck arrogantly assured her. "You'll learn Berry. I'm full of surprises."

Take Seventy-One:



"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?" Rachel gasped, staring at Puck with wide, astonished eyes.

For there he was. Noah Puckerman. In the ballet studio ten minutes before the tiny tots beginner's class she was set to teach.

In a full body black leotard.

"It's the dress code," Puck shrugged, his face incredulous. He snapped his fingers and said, "BERRY, eyes up here. I have EYES, you know!"

"It's snug, I can't help the natural path my eyes-like an eye magnet, NOAH!" Rachel shrieked his name in exasperation. "What are you doing here?"

"Imma learn how to dance. You know. Proper and shit," Puck grinned.

"No swearing in the studio," Rachel said absent-mindedly, her eyes again inadvertently drifting from his face back down to the very tightly encased bulge of the black leotard.

"EYES!" Puck snapped his fingers repeatedly. "I have eyes. EYES UP HERE."

"Sorry," Rachel winced.

"You could buy me dinner first, Berry," Puck smirked. "So, catch me up before the four year olds get here. I don't want to look like a leotard wearing idiot."

"Okay...uhm...alright. So, first position..."

Take Seventy-Two:

"Okay, Chitty Chitty Chang Bang and Mrs. Chitty Chitty Chang Bang, I need you to make sure that the Gleek's are cool at lunch time. Here's thirty bucks, buy thirty dollar menu things from McD's and we'll see you in the choir room at noon," Puck handed over the money to a smiling Mike and a glaring Tina.

"Just because I'm the secretary to the CPR does not mean that you can call me CHITTY CHITTY CHANG BANG," Tina hissed.

"You used to stutter, hence the Chitty twice. The Chang cause that's your name. The Bang cause you bang Chang," Puck looked at her incredulously. "I put a lot of time and thought into my nicknames. They're crafted with care, Gothy, so have a heart and leave it."

"Whatever. Give me five more bucks so I can get a Shamrock Shake," Tina held out her hand expectantly.

"You are so high maintenance," Puck huffed, handing over the money.

"Get used to it," Blaine muttered.

"You would know," Puck muttered back. He shook his head and looked down at his checklist. "Okay, I'm going to need someone to cover for me with Mr. Schue for Spanish so I can get my French on."

"I'll detract him! I'm the best detractor!" Brittany volunteered excitedly.

Puck gave her a wary look, knowing that her distractions could spell out Mr. Schue's certain doom. Santana laughed at him and promised,

"We're both on it, Au revoire, idiot."

"Up yours too, Satan!" Puck shot back.

"Oh my God, we have fifteen minutes, let's go over some basic French," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Okay, and then you're going to get me something to dance in, right? For ballet?" Puck wondered.

"Oui, oui," Kurt nodded. "Il sera à la mode!"

"We're going to put ice cream on it?"

Take Eighty-Three:

"Comment avez-vous apprendre le français, Monsieur Palet?"

"Uhm...illya des choses que vous no composers me," Puck stumbled through the French with a particularly atrocious accent that somehow made him sound like a very slow cowboy. "What's Palet mean?"

"Literally, PUCK," Kurt chortled to himself.

"Like a hockey puck?" Puck wondered hopefully.

"Nope. Like...a pixie from a Shakespearean play," Kurt grinned.

"MERDE," Puck rolled his eyes.

"HOW do you know so much French. I've taken six years of French after I made my Dad petition the school board to let me start two years ahead of everyone else," Kurt revealed importantly. "You've NEVER been in my French class. OR ANY FRENCH CLASS. So how can you put together even these horrible half sentences. And the swear words?"

"I made sure you taught me the swear words first," Puck shrugged. "Also, voulez-vous embrasser beaucoup and Arreter de me deshabiller avec vos yeux!"

"I taught you the swear words FIRST?" Kurt repeated. "Today's the first day you came to me about French, Monsieur Palet."

"Uhm...yeah. Sure," Puck nodded.

"Is there something you're not telling us?" Kurt demanded. "I mean, you gather the CPR together and hand out a bunch of crazy tasks. You're learning French. You asked me to go out and get your a black leotard. What's going on?"

"Fil de pute," Puck grumbled.


"Va te faire foutre, trouduc!" Puck countered.

They stared at each other for a few extra long minutes before Kurt pursed his lips and offered, " A secret for a secret, Monsieur Palet."

"You wouldn't believe me, and I can't afford to fight off a Kurt-led intervention," Puck shook his head.

"Rachel broke up with Finn because of you," Kurt revealed, savoring the gossip leaving his tongue. "Last night, Rachel found out that Finn told you to stay away from her last year. Also, that you planned the New York date. And then she overheard Finn's massive screaming and chair kicking fest to ME about my video work of the last week."

"She overheard this stuff?" Puck asked.

"I may have arranged a few things," Kurt said airily. He rolled his eyes and said, "I'm the vice president of the Committee for the Puckleberry Reunion. I'm totally invested in this. So now, tell me."

"I'm stuck in a time loop," Puck mumbled.


"I've been living Groundhog's Day over and over. I'm on Groundhog's Day 83."

Puck held his breath as he looked at the only other person he had told besides Mike. Kurt was going to be in Pillsbury's office in ten minutes, convincing the guidance counselor to committ him. No doubt about it.

"Like Mystery Spot?" Kurt whispered.

"WHAT?" Puck hissed.

"Supernatural Season Three, Episode Eleven?" Kurt shrugged. "One of the more hilarious episodes of the series."

"You watch Supernatural?" Puck furrowed his brow.

"Please, who do you think introduced Mike Chang to it?" Kurt scoffed. "You do know about the homo-erotic subtext, right? And Sammy Winchester is just...really really..."

"Gotcha. Cool. I get it," Puck interrupted. "So you believe me?"

"Okay, tomorrow, you tell me this, and I'll automatically believe you," Kurt promised, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. "And honestly, Monsieur Palet, as the VP of the Committee to reunite you two crazy Jews, of course I sort of believe that fate, destiny, Doctor Who, whatever put you in a time loop so that you can properly sweep Rachel off of her feet."

"Thanks Kurt, you're awesome."

"Sweep her off her feet before she gets stupid again and decides that she'd rather saddle herself with my idiot of a step-brother. If you don't, I will figure out time travel before I die and haunt you every day for the rest of your life. Well. Four days out of the week on you. Three days for Jared Padalecki."

Take Ninety-Nine:


"I'm UP!"

Puck jumped out of bed and went about finally having his perfect freaking day. He dialed up Chang first and said hurriedly,

"Time loop. No lie. The proof is that once when you were seven, you saw a blue telephone booth and heard the Doctor Who woosh woosh sound. You never even told Tina about it. Gather the CPR. We've got work to do."

He rushed to slash the tires on soccer douche's car and after he had signed the carnage with a forged note from the hockey douche. As he made his stealthy, well-practiced get-away, he drove over to the Hudson Hummel house and handed Kurt a note at the door, before making his way to the kitchen, where Finn was currently sulking over a bowl of Trix cereal. His former best friend/best enemy took one look at the newly arrived Puck and his face screwed up in anger.

"DUDE. Calm down. And don't kick over any chairs. Mr. Hummel hates it when you do that," Puck promised.

"Get OUT of here, you ruined everything...you always just-you steal EVERYTHING!" Finn roared.

Puck reached out as Finn rushed at him. He slapped Finn across the face with an audible crack and the shock of it was enough to get Finn to stop from beating him up. Puck nodded and said with as much conviction as he could,

"I'm sorry things didn't work out with you and Rachel. But this isn't my fault. This isn't any one's fault. Some times people just...they can't stay together forever. And you and Rachel, you had a lot of really good times. Stop being a douche."

"Whatever man," Finn sighed. He shrugged and said, "See you at school."

Puck nodded and realized that was as good as he was going to get. He met up with Kurt again on the way out and said, "Merci beaucoup Monsieur Professeur. A bientot."

"Mon dieu," Kurt whispered as Puck left. "Sam Winchester is real..."

Puck managed to set up his usual agenda, even managed a good locker shove for Jacob Ben-Israel. He put everyone where he wanted them for the day before turning to an eager Brittany and a slightly sour-faced Santana.

"You know, you guys are a big reason why I'm doing what I'm doing," he revealed.

"Cause we're trendsetters," Brittany nodded knowledgeably.

"Yeah, that's true," Puck nodded. He looked to Santana and said pointedly, "If someone as badass as Santana can just drop the bullshit and just love who ever the fuck she wants...then why can't I?"

Santana shrugged and a small edge of a smile started pulling up at the corner of her mouth. She rolled her eyes when Puck held out a fist for a knuckle bump before begrundingly giving in.

"So, since I'm making the president and treasurer of CPR so happy with my plans, I should get a reward," Puck shrugged.

"No threesomes, Rach wouldn't like it," Brittany insisted strongly. "Not until she gets more curious when we're twenty-three and all go away to Baja for vacation and drink too many sangrias."

"Awesome," Puck grinned. Because if he could live the same day 99 times, then hell, Brittany could see the future too, dammit. He nodded and said, "You guys could hold me over with some girl on girl. You know. Canoodles in the hall. And just know, that whoever messes with you, messes with the whole damn CPR."

"Thanks loser," Santana said softly. "See your pansy ass later."

Puck nodded and turned to head to first period French. Time to dazzle.

"Noah?" Rachel whispered as Puck sat right next to her in the otherwise empty class room.

"Rachel?" he whispered in return, adding in another eyebrow raise for good measure.

"You know that you take Spanish this time of day, don't you?" Rachel asked earnestly.

"Je voulais quelque chose de different," Puck shrugged, his accent wasn't perfect, but Kurt had insisted that it would be charming the way that it was.

"This is French 4, Noah. It's a special class that only three people take," Rachel hissed.

"Je parle Francais," Puck shrugged.

"We're not-we're not talking about kissing, Noah," Rachel stuttered, unable to stop the impressed smil spreading across her lips. She saw that he was about to throw another round of banter at her and held up her hand to interrupt him, "If the words voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir leave your mouth, I simply cannot be blamed for the insane, uncontrollable mocking laughter that I will be forced to expel."

"D'accord, d'accord," Puck nodded. "J'aurai peut-etre apprendre le francais a NYU.."

"What?" Rachel giggled in spite of herself. "NOAH? You applied to NYU?"

"L'application est dans le courrier," Puck grinned. "Je vous ai dit que je vous epatera."

"Who ARE you today?" Rachel laughed. "This is...amazing."

"En la francais, s'il vous-plait," Puck sing songed, nearly a perfect imitation of Kurt. He had heard it enough times, after all.

"Vous etes incroyables," Rachel whispered.

"Vous aussi, Rachel."

After getting through the whole class without embarrassing himself in front of the teacher, Puck gave Rachel one last grin and a wave before taking off to prepare the rest of the day.

The only bump in the road was Finn. After the Gleek lunch wherein no violence happened at all, Finn was waiting to confront him in the locker room.

"DUDE. You're making a move on Rachel already?" Finn demanded. "UNCOOL."

"Man, you don't know the never-ending shit storm I've gone through for the last 100 days. YOU DON'T KNOW."

"You're crazy," Finn scoffed.

"Yeah? And you're getting tied to the field goal post," Puck growled. "In your underwear."

Finn had the presence of mind to take off like a bat out of hell, but Puck had always been faster. Maybe it was Finn's gargantuan limbs that slowed him down, but soon, Puck had him tackled, and luckily Kurt and Blaine showed up to help. Puck knew Blaine had been in fight club. He just knew it.

When the hapless trio returned to the locker room, Kurt handed Puck a garment bag and said, "See you later, twinkle toes."

"Thanks guys," Puck smirked as the couple left him to his devices. He grimaced when he saw the outfit Kurt had managed to put together, but was thankful for the post it note instructions on how to get the ensemble on without destroying it.

He legit, SPRINTED to the dance studio, arriving seconds before Rachel. He put on his best handsome smile as she walked into the room, her mouth dropping at the sight in front of her.

Noah Puckerman. In her ballet studio, dressed as the Nutcracker Prince. She blinked rapidly, wondering if he would vanish with each successive batting of her eyelashes. She managed to form one cohorent thought before demanding,

"How? What? How?"

"I want a dance before the munchkins get here. I've been practicing. And then later, I'd like to take you to dinner," he said hopefully. "There's this new vegan place downtown. And I have reservations and promise I won't bitch about the lack of meat."

"No swearing in the studio," Rachel managed to whisper.

"Let's dance," Puck pressed play, and an instrumental version of Christina Perry's 1000 years began to play. He reached out for her and she gracefully accepted his hand. He began a few simple steps that she had managed to teach him in the previous weeks of Groundhog's days, but his favorite was when she would have a little sharp intake of breath every time he initiated a lift.

"I—I love this song," Rachel managed to whisper.

"I know," Puck nodded.

"This...this is a dance I'm doing for a video audition for my backup school...with Mike," Rachel furrowed her brow. "Did he teach it to you?"

"Yeah," Puck answered honestly. She had taught him quite a bit as well.

"How? When?" Rachel demanded. "Noah, I really must insist that I have answers."

"Miss Berry! WHO IS THAT?"



A whole crew of pre-schoolers invaded Rachel and Puck's formerly private studio, clamoring around Puck and gripping at his hands, insisting that he dance with them. He did so happily, sending grins to Rachel every once in a while, who couldn't stop staring at him in wonderment.

When the last child was picked up by their parent, and Puck was back in his street clothes, he offered Rachel his arm and said,

"Look, I know you have questions. But, believe me when I tell you, I can't TELL you. You wouldn't believe me. Let's just go have a nice dinner, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel nodded after a moment's hesitation.

They drove in Rachel's car downtown and were walking in a mostly comfortable silence when unbelievably loud orchestral music began blaring from someone's impressive car sound system. Mercedes' brother's car was the BOMB.

"This is the theme to Beauty and the Beast," Rachel whispered.

"Brittany's obsessed with the parallels," Puck nodded.

"Brittany?" Rachel whispered. She squinted her eyes as Brittany appeared on the other side of the street, right in the middle of Lima's modest town square, spinning in a perfect, concise circle, her arms extended beautifully above her head.

Santana appeared next and she and Brittany began to waltz about, soon joined by Mike and Tina. Kurt and Blaine popped up next. Even Sammy and Mercedes joined in. Pretty soon, even casual passersby were dancing too and Rachel put her hand over her mouth as a delighted laugh fell from her lips.

"Who ARE you today? Where did all this come from?" Rachel demanded. "You speak French. You dance with skill I KNOW that you didn't have yesterday. You're romantic and sweet and although I love it, yesterday you said that you were happy to be single on Valentine's day because it saved you, and I quote, an assload of cash. Noah, PLEASE, what is going on?"

"Okay...all right. Truth time," Puck nodded. "I'm stuck in a time loop. And the only way I think I can get out, is to make you love me."

"Noah—I, what?" she asked.

"I told you that you wouldn't believe it," Puck smirked for the briefest of seconds before turning serious. "Look, I know you just ended things with Finn. But this is me, just telling you that-, fuck it. I love you, Rachel."

Rachel stood in front of him, her eyes wide and dazed, her mouth gaping like a fish. She took two full minutes before she closed her mouth, swallowed painfully and whispered,

"I just broke up with Finn this morning, Noah. I need time."

"I only have three more hours and then-you won't remember this tomorrow," Puck said softly. "And I'll have to start all over again. And I can't anymore. I just want it to be February 3rd."

"It's too soon," Rachel shook her head. "It's-I have to go."

Puck watched her rush back to her car, his lips pursed as he fought with the sudden lump in his throat. He was soon joined by his crew. Those crazy kids that had worked so freaking hard every day to try and get him to a happy place. Mike clasped his shoulder and Kurt looked at him with tears in his eyes.

"It might be enough," Kurt offered hopefully.

"Today was amazing," Mike agreed.

"Yeah...it might be enough."

Take One Hundred and One:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...






"MA! I DID!"

Puck stayed in bed. He didn't move. He didn't blink. He didn't want to. EVER. AGAIN. Yesterday he had done the same thing. He'd do it tomorrow too.

It just didn't matter anymore. He was stuck.

...well maybe he'd give it one more shot tomorrow.

Take One Hundred and Two:


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...


"SARAH! -"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Puck demanded. He rolled out of bed, just barely stopping himself from falling completely. He trudged over to his desk and stared at the paper he had usually used to make his notes in the morning to go along with his master plan. Their emptiness seemed to mock him now. Demanding to be filled out. Demanding to continue day after day doing the same thing.

He picked up a pen and started writing.

Dear Rachel...

Half an hour later, he had grabbed his guitar and was heading towards Rachel's house. He perched on the bumper of her little Volkswagen Beetle, his hands on his strings, just waiting until the door cracked open and her incredulous face poked out before he started strumming.

Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

One step closer

I have died everyday waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

He gestured his head to the letter he had placed on the first step to her front porch and smiled as she picked it up and turned it over in her hands before looking back up at him, her eyes misty as he continued to sing.

Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me
Every breath
Every hour has come to this

One step closer

Puck nodded and began to walk away, singing the chorus one more time as he ambled down Rachel's driveway, intent on heading back to his own house.

I have died everyday waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

Rachel watched as he left, her mouth agape, the tears gracefully falling down her cheeks from unblinking eyes. She looked down wiped at her eyes, clearing her vision so she could read his letter.

Dear Rachel.

I'm stuck. You're going to think I'm crazy. But I'm stuck in the same day. Over and over again. It's Groundhog's Day. And the only thing I want is to get to tomorrow. Because tomorrow, maybe, just maybe you'll be one step closer in getting over Finn and one step closer to starting something with me.


Your Noah.

Puck made one final stop before heading home. He walked to Jacob Ben-Israel's house as the kid was waiting at the bus stop. He rolled his eyes as Jacob shrieked in a natural response to Puck's presence.

"Chillax, Jew-fro," Puck ordered. He shrugged and said, "Look...I'm not always the nicest guy, and you really bug the shit out of me some times. Like when I catch you watching Rachel in Temple? I just go into a rage blackout and want to smack your face off. But...you don't deserve all the shit I heap on you. So-as long as you stop stalking Rachel and posting shit on your blog about me and her and the rest of the Gleek's...then I'll stop torturing you."

"DEAL!" Jacob said eagerly. He reached out a hand to shake on it.

"Eh, verbal agreement. No offense dude. But it's morning, I know where your hand has been," Puck smirked. "See you around."

Puck took off and was back in his bed within the hour. As he shut his eyes, he made a resolution. It really didn't matter if tomorrow never came. He'd keep trying. He'd do the same things every day with certain fun variations. Because the look on Rachel's face when he got to surprise her with his finely honed new skills was worth it. Getting to surprise her and make her happy was worth it.

He'd do it. When he woke up, it would be February 2nd, 2012. Again.

And it would be okay. It would be worth it.

He didn't know how long he slept, but he didn't wake up to Bye Bye Bye, but instead to a jostling of his bed. He blinked his eyes open lazily and was greeted with the unearthly beautiful sight of Rachel Berry peering down at him while biting her lip in worry.

"Are you absolutely sure that you haven't lost your mind?" she asked seriously.

"Nah, maybe. Who knows?" Puck mumbled. He pulled himself into a sitting position and rubbed his hand over his eyes as he continued, "Probably. Doesn't change the fact that I've lived through over a hundred Groundhog's days. Doesn't change anything. What time's it?"

"10:30 in the morning," Rachel revealed.

"You skipped school," Puck furrowed his brow. "Oh shit...the fight."

He hopped out of bed and rushed to his phone. He called Mike and left a quick voicemal, "You saw the Doctor Who box when you were a kid. For real. Whoosh whoosh noise and everything. I'm in a time loop. Get the Gleek's to avoid the fight in the lunchroom. Buy everyone pizza and I'll-I'll pay you back tomorrow. Peace."

"What-what was the Doctor Who reference about?" Rachel let a small smile grace her face in amusement.

"Codeword that we set up so that he'd believe me. He told me a secret that no one knew. Kurt did too," Puck revealed.

"And you'll pay him back tomorrow?" Rachel nodded. "Although, you claim to say tomorrow will never come."

Puck laughed and shook his head at her morality problems in this insane situation. "Look, I learnt French, how to waltz, wore a full body black leotard day after day after day and stopped a fight from happening like...98 times. But seriously, I'm no saint."

"Hmmmm," Rachel nodded. "Do you think we should develop a password?"

"Maybe it'd make it easier," Puck admitted with a shrug. "It'd have to be good though."

"What's Kurt's big secret?" Rachel wondered. She saw Puck's almost noble resistance to telling her and she laughed incredulously, "I'll forget whatever you tell me by tomorrow if what you say is true!"

"His first crush was on your daddy, Leroy," Puck blurted. "He was seven."

Rachel gaped at him, her mouth forming a large perfect "O" shape that would have had him cracking other kinds of jokes under different circumstances. He put his hand under chin and closed her mouth before moving both hands to her shoulders and forcing her to sit down on the bed. He plopped down next to her.

"I suppose Daddy is very dashing...handsome," Rachel nodded.

"He was seven," Puck laughed. "So what's your deepst darkest, Rachel? What do you want your password to be?"

"When I was four, I was at the dance studio and was watching the toddler class. Of course at that time I was far more advanced then them and was taking the class that had ten-year-olds," Rachel bragged.

"Of course," Puck rolled his eyes.

"Regardless, I saw Quinn Fabray in the toddler class and-oh my goodness-I thought at the time that I should marry her," Rachel closed her eyes tight in embarrassment.

"Well shit, this is so not going to work out for me if you take Quinn down Brittana Ave," Puck said warily.

"I was confused!" Rachel insisted. "My only model for parenthood was my dad's and your single mother. I thought that in order to have children some time in the future and be married, you had to do it with someone like you or by yourself. And Quinn was the prettiest girl I had ever seen, so naturally my brilliant mind deduced that my future children would get their amazing talent from ME and beauty from their future mother."

"HEY, you're beautiful!" Puck countered.

"Regardless, someone set me straight," Rachel laughed.


"Your mother," Rachel grinned. "She told me that it was okay if I wanted to marry a girl someday, but there was also nothing wrong with marrying a boy."


"Especially a Jewish boy."


"As a matter of fact, she had just the boy for me!"

"SERIOUSLY?" Puck demanded. He shook his head in disbelief. "My mother is crazed."

"Well, then I saw you, and I decided it would be much nicer to be married to you than Quinn Fabray," Rachel said quietly. "Because Quinn Fabray called me dance freak when I said hello to her. And you said..."

"I said you look like yummy lollipops," Puck finished.

"Yes," Rachel whispered. "So...if its alright with you, downstairs, I've assembled approximately ten take-out menus that would satisfy both of our unique dietary constraints. Mine being veganism and your's being hedonism. Also, I made a batch of cookies."

"Nice!" Puck chuckled.

"I've also assembled a selection of ten movies or television shows that would also appeal to the both of us," Rachel promised.

"I'm going to include you on all of my lazy days off from school if I ever get to tomorrow," Puck swore.

"My plan is to eat up our time. I've text messaged your mother for permission to spend the night," Rachel said hurriedly, wincing when he flinched.


"Granted, she was...overzealous, but accomodating. She and your sister actually have plans to visit Nana Connie. So we have privacy, and when tomorrow comes...you will make vegan pancakes," Rachel grinned.

"Okay...sounds good," Puck grinned. "And when tomorrow is Groundhog's Day again, I'll tell you your big secret and you owe me 10 egg mcmuffins with extra bacon."

"Noah, Egg McMuffins have ham on them already, do they really need two kinds of pig?" Rachel sighed. Puck have her an incredulous look in response and she shook her head, "You really are the worst Jew on the face of the planet."

He lived up to that proclamation by ordering a pulled pork sandwich from one take out place for lunch and pork fried rice for dinner. He demolished the plate of cookies and watched in amusement as Rachel made him more. She grinned at him as she rolled out a disc of cold dough as he played with the cookie cutters she had chosen.

"It's been a lovely day, Noah," she said softly.

"Yup," Puck shrugged, looking over at the clock. He had an hour and a half until midnight came around. He could feel his heart hammering in the chest. Today had been perfect.

"It'll take me about twenty more minute to get two trays in the oven. Then while they're cooling, we can finish out Season two of The Office!"

"Yup," Puck nodded.

"And then we'll get some sleep. And in the morning, you're making me pancakes," Rachel grinned.

Puck didn't answer that time. Rachel bit her lip and finished up her work. She marched him up to his room and sat him down on his bed. She stared down at him for a long moment before placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

"If we fall asleep, I just want to say now. I'll see you in the morning. I'll be here. Because, we have a lot of mornings to go, Noah."

She sat right next to him on his bed laying her head on his shoulder as she fiddled with the remote. He watched as her eyelids got droopy during the listing of Jim's epic pranks on Dwight during Conflict Resolution. He tried to last. He wanted to be awake when the miracle happened and set him back a day. Took this awesome, amazing, kick ass day that he had gotten with Rachel. He wanted to find whatever was doing this and kick it in the teeth.

But his eyelids drooped too, and soon they were both sleeping soundly in his bed.


I'm doing this tonight

You're probably gonna start a fight

I know this can't be right.

Hey Baby come on...

Fuck. His. Life.

"This song! You tried to put together a boy band to sing this song!"


"You owe me pancakes," Rachel said matter-of-factly as she went over to turn off his alarm. She laughed and said, "Your little sister is a genius. She set your alarm up to always play that song."

"Yeah...genius. What-what are you doing here?"

"Do you know what today is, Noah?" Rachel asked softly as she plopped onto the bed gracefully. "It's tomorrow. It happened."

"It's February 3rd?" Puck whispered.

"Friday, February 3rd, 2012," Rachel smiled. She craned her neck slightly and put a soft kiss on his lips. She lingered for a millisecond before grinning as his natural response to try to devour her lips kicked in. When he finally let her get a breath of air she shrugged and said, "We are still taking this slow, Noah. But Happy Day After Groundhog's Day. And also...I would really, really enjoy those pancakes now."

So. Thank you so much for reading the one-shot that ate my brain. I hope that you enjoyed it! Updates to my other stories will now be coming within the week, since I managed to get this out of my brain. REMEMBER: Check out the awesome gif set Sharna made at suckmyberries(dot)tumblr(dot)com