Chapter 13

So, here it is, finally! Chapter 13, it's more of a filler, but I kinda like it. I'm soooo sorry for not updating for almost two months, but uni's been crazy as hell and I've just not had the time to write anything, like, at all!

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine

"Rach, baby, honey, darling, sweetheart, I love you, but don't do this to me!"

He is actually on his knees in front of her, begging, pleading, anything. Behind them, Chris is laughing his ass off.

It all began like this:

They had both arrived a little earlier that day, as it was raining, they had run most of the way.

Puck set about getting the bar ready, while Rachel walked over to the little stage area and began to work on a new song (Temptations by Tom Waitts) with the guitarist.

After some time, Chris and he are done, and as every time, they pulled up two chairs and just listen to and watch Rachel perform.

It is undoubtedly the sexiest of any performances Noah has ever seen from his girl. The melody is deep and entrancing, the lyrics make him crave every forbidden pleasure he has ever wanted and the sensual tone of her voice and sway of her hips have him completely entranced.

She sashays around the room, flirts briefly with the guitar-guy and the bass-player, dances past Gary and the security guys, before ending in his lap.

It's nothing new, the fact that Rachel was his girl was pretty much well known since they first walked in.

She sits in his lap, finishes the song, and after the last note he leans up for a kiss, because honestly, he is so tightly wound he feels like a bedspring.

Rachel gives him a calculating look though, and seems oddly fixated on his forehead.

He whispers a sweet I love you to her, which, thanks to her Mic, the entire bar hears. Fully expecting her to reciprocate, he is pretty confused when the next words from her mouth are:

"You need a hair cut."

So that's pretty much how he ends up in this position, begging her to leave him his Mohawk.

"Come on, baby, the 'hawk's badass! I am totally sexy with that look! Seriously, Mrs. Johnson only got a pool after I - - -" he trails off.

Rachel whips around.

"Yes? Please, do go on Noah. And forgive me for not being ecstatic about the fact that my boyfriend intends to retain a hairstyle for its fornication-value." He gulps.

"That's not what I meant, Baby. You're the only one for me, you know that. But seriously, Rach, the Mohawk?" he looks as though she is asking him to take Kurt to Prom.

"Noah, that ridiculous hair-cut of yours is not 'badass', as you so expletively term it, it simply looks as though your head is. . . mouldy!" His face turns offended.

"Hey, I thought you liked the Mohawk!"

"Yes, Noah, I am only dating you because of your hair." She dead-pans.

"Rachel, that haircut is, like, the essence of me! It's totally badass! I'm just gonna look like some other douchebag with big guns!"

"Noah, I have told you before, but I shall reiterate, your arms are lovely, but your hair is not. Plus, that is still better than a 'douchebag without guns', correct?" She turns back towards the stage, but he quickly picks her up.

"Berry, the 'hawk stays. I am a fuckin' sex god with this baby!"

"So your sexual prowess is related to your hair? Does that mean when you are bald you are. . . unable to perform. . .?" She scrunches her face slightly. Noah looks offended.

"What? No! I'm a sex god no matter what!"

"So, by logical conclusion, your hairstyle has little or no significance on your persona. . ."
"But. . .I. . . Not cool!"

In the back the entire bar staff is laughing.

She raises herself on her tiptoes and presses a hard, passionate kiss to his mouth, eliciting catcalls from their colleagues.

"I promise I'll make it up to you. . ." she practically purrs.

Noah has a dazed look on his face when she pulls away. They might not have gone all the way yet, and he's pretty sure it's gonna be some time till they are, the mere thought of Rachel making up anything is enough to leave him speechless.

"Uuuuh. . ."

He snaps out of it though when Gary calls him whipped and Chris asks him about his Vagina. After a few more prodding comments by the guys, Noah has enough. He's a stud, goddammit! Yes, he's changed a helluva lot, but hell if his 'hawk is gonna stop flying!

"Rachel, the 'hawk stays! I am the man in this relationship, and I say my hair's good this way! End of Discussion!" He proclaims loudly, puffing his chest out. Gary and Chris slap him on the back.

"Excuse me?" Her voice is deceptively calm. Suddenly he realizes what he just said. 5'2 of pure Rachel – Berry in anger-mode crazy are coming his way, and hell, he might be a stud, but he's not suicidal.

Still, his mouth apparently is.

"I'm . . . the man?" it comes out as more of a question and Noah is surprised by the fact that he can still speak. However, angry Rachel doesn't make an appearance. Instead the only thing worse happens.

Her eyes become huge and a shimmer of liquid lies on them. Her mouth does this pouty thing, which usually he would find sexy, if he didn't know exactly what it means.

"Oh crap! Rach, uh, don't cry, I mean. . ." Noah has never been good with crying females. Happy tears, he can deal with, crying out his name, sure, but honest-to-god crocodile tears usually send him running for the hills. But this is Rachel, he tells himself.

He takes a step towards her, but it just seems to set her off into even higher wails.

"Y-y-you d-d-d-d-don't even care what I think!" She has tears running down her cheeks now, her arms flailing around uselessly and she manages to look so incredibly pitiful and toddler-like, that Chris starts looking for a candy, just to cheer her up.

Noah makes calming motions with his arms.

"Rach, baby, please, that's not it at all!" Wrong thing to say, apparently, but somehow he thinks that pretty much anything would be wrong at this point.

"Y-y-you j-j-just want t-t-to look good for y-y-y-your st-stupid cougars!" He hardly understands her now, giant sobs are wracking her body, and Noah is starting to panic. He drops to his knees again, because a) he looks a lot more pathetic on the floor and b) he can stop any attacks on his manhood easier, if angry Rachel decides to make an appearance.

"Rachel, Babe, I love you! Just you!" He tries to pull her close but she resists. Still, he manages to put his hands on her waist, so he figures he's made some headway.

"b-but not as m-m-m-much as your st-stupid hair!" she wails at an even higher pitch, causing him to wince. So much for headway.

"Rach, babe, I love you tons more! Hell, if it makes you happy, I'll go bald! I'll cut the hawk, I promise, just please stop crying!" He pulls her close and she lets him.

"Okay." She suddenly chirps from above him, presses a kiss to his head and bounces away.

For a few seconds the relief is so overwhelming, he doesn't really notice what just happened.

"Wait, what?" He looks after her confusedly.
"I believe the term is, gotcha?" Chris pipes up.

A few days later he insecurely scrubs his hand over his head. The Mohawk had grown out a lot, seeing as they didn't have the time or inclination to properly maintain it (there were far more enjoyable things to be done).

The hairdresser had pretty much given him a shortish haircut with a slightly elevated stripe in the middle. For the next few streets, he pretty much traipses after Rachel, shoulders hunched over, his hand continuously rubbing over his hair.

Hell, he's a fucking stud, but this shit? Ain't cool! His 'hawk was directly linked to his Mojo…He kinda feels like Austin Powers in the second movie, only with better teeth and way better hair.

After a few streets, Rachel huffs and turns around.

"Honestly, Noah. It is just hair. Your physical appeal has in no way been diminished, rather it has been enhanced as you no longer resemble an unkempt scoundrel."

He continues to look miserable and. . .good god, he is pouting at her! She feels her resolve weaken.

"Urgh!" With a scoff she resolutely walks back to him, kisses his lips and pulls him to a young woman walking her dog a few paces away.

"Ma`am? Excuse me?" The woman turns slightly confused, her manicured hands go to her designer-sunglasses and she pulls them down to the bridge of her nose.

"Yes?"

Rachel pushes him forward.

"Please, would you mind telling us whether or not my companion is physically appealing to you?" The woman gives Rachel a look as though she's grown an extra head. So does Puck as a matter of fact. The Fuck? His girlfriend goes around asking strangers whether he's hot??? That's just. . .weird. . .

"Huh?"

"My boyfriend here, do you find him physically appealing? And would you mind elaborating on his hairstyle?"

"Uuuuh. . ." The lady turns to him, and looks him up and down. Instinctively he preens a little and gives her a smirk.

"Sure, I guess. . .not quite my type, but I love the hair, slightly rebellious." Then she turns to Rachel and repeats the process a lot more lasciviously. With a saucy smile and a wink, she steps closer to her.

"You on the other hand are exactly my type." She winks, and Rachel gives her a bright smile, grabs Noah's hand and nods.

"Thank you, I am flattered, but I'm afraid I am quite firmly heterosexual. Nonetheless, I wish you all the best on your future romantic endeavors." With a last smile she pulls him away from the stranger and drags him down the street.

"Noah, as this has proven, your new haircut is not ridiculous. In fact, I believe it enhances your physical prowess, as you have just been demonstrated, even women attracted to the female sex find it attractive. . ." she continues to ramble on.

Puck for his part is not really listening. Sure, he grunts and nods at all the appropriate times. But his eyes are pretty glazed over and his head is completely occupied.

Losing the 'hawk? Pretty much a downer. Getting the fantasy of the girl he loves and is burning hotter for than gasoline with a damn sexy New York College student? Yeah, that raises his mood pretty easily. . .

Whaddaya think? R+R people! You know the drill! I know it's a bit shorter, but it's better than nothing, aye?