This May Be Presumptuous

Author's Note: This is a prequel to a story I'm working on right now that started out as a one shot and just...ran completely amuck. This is what I always thought happened while Puck was in juvie because I just couldn't believe someone as stubborn and caring as Rachel would just abandon Puck. Oh, and this '~P&R~' just means I want a double space or something to divide the text without an actual line to indicate time has passed.

'Dear Noah,

This may be presumptuous, but in the wake of my phone call to your mother, I have determined that letter writing will have to do. She has told me you're allowed one phone call and one visit per week, and that visits are family only. I unfortunately missed this week's phone call but she has promised that unless you say otherwise, I might be present for the next.

I hope you won't be too annoyed with me for intruding on what is rightfully a family's time together, but I simply couldn't let you believe that I'd forgotten all about you. I miss your voice in glee club and your exemplary guitar skills and your sheer presence in the choir room. We've finally convinced someone else to join glee but he's hardly a replacement for your experience as he hasn't ever sung with a show choir before.

His name is Sam and apparently he also plays football. I believe he said something about playing quarterback at his last school. Needless to say Finn is feeling threatened. I've done my best to soothe him but as I know very little about the game, more than I wish to, I'm hardly effectual.

I spoke with Coach Bieste regarding your position and she has assured me that should you be in good enough physical shape, you will be welcomed back to the team. The only other sticking point would be your grades. Coach Bieste has told me that your grades must be at a C average or you aren't allowed to participate in extracurricular activites.

I know how important football is to you Noah, so I've taken the liberty of speaking to your teachers and I've listed all of your assignments for the time you'll be incarcerated. I've also found second hand copies of the text books and included detailed notes regarding the subject matter. Some of these classes are subjects I took last year so I'll be able to help you stay current with them. Others merely require extensive reading.

Your mother assures me that you'll have time to study and that the guards at juvenile hall encourage the boys to work on their education. Obviously you won't be allowed to have the books with you all the time, but they'll be kept for you so you can study. If I've missed anything please do not hesitate to tell me when your next call is allowed. I'll be happy to send you another box.

I've also enclosed some music we were working on in Glee. Is it me or is Mr. Scheuster choosing disturbingly simplistic songs for the group once again? I look forward to talking to you.

Sincerely,

Rachel Barbra Berry'

~P&R~

Puck rubbed his eyes and reread the letter again. He couldn't believe the girl actually wrote him an honest to god letter. Nobody wrote letters anymore. And she was gonna help him study while he was stuck in here. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Rachel Berry took her friendships seriously, and she considered him a friend. She'd been there the whole summer, whenever he was sober long enough to talk she'd been willing to listen. She'd corralled him after Temple a few times too, trying to tell him he was bottling too much up.

He hated to admit it but she'd been right. Drinking until he was wasted and trying to steal an ATM had not been among his brighter ideas. And now he was stuck. And Rachel was writing to him.

He sighed and folded the letter up to look at the copies of the sheet music she'd enclosed, she was right, Schue was doing the golden eighties songs again and they weren't gonna get the job done. He'd have to tell her that if she was on the line when his mom called.

'Dear Noah,

You simply won't believe what happened today. Finn actually talked Kurt into breaking his duet with Sam ostensibly to keep Sam from being bullied. Of course then poor Kurt was left by himself. I wish he'd asked me, we wouldn't have won because everyone hates me but at least he wouldn't be by himself. Of course, being Kurt he dueted with himself, singing Le Jazz Hot from Victor/Victoria. He was of course amazing but I'm still terribly disappointed in Finn.

We also have a plan to keep morale up in Glee, Finn and I are sure to win on skill alone, but knowing how everyone tends to vote for the person they like best, or they'll vote for themselves we decided to do something about it. Truly the idea is inspired, I was really surprised Finn thought of it truthfully, either he was struck by lightening or he has a previously hidden devious streak. Since at lunch he was debating with Brittany if there was such a thing as a ketchup tree since there is a mustard plant I'm going with the struck by lightening theory. I love him but sometimes that boy... Well you know what I mean, you've been dealing with him for years.

Anyway our plan, Finn pointed out that Grease 2 wasn't a hit because the songs are bad, not because the singers were bad. So he and I have chosen a not so bad song but we're giving it a truly terrible interpretation. Then we'll vote for Quinn and Sam and they'll win the contest, thus increasing their confidence and strengthening the group as a whole. I refuse to feel bad about deceiving all of them because they won't cooperate any other way and we really need to be unified.

In other news, Jacob Ben Israel is reaching new heights of creepiness, Dad told me that until you come back I don't have to go to Temple. I'll make my apologies to the Rabbi in the form of baked goods for the JCC.

Speaking of baked goods, I asked your mother if you were allowed care packages and the answer was no, more's the pity. I'm told one's reputation is increased if you have a hot girlfriend, connections to 'get things' or a great deal of money with which to purchase favors. I had hoped cookies could serve as a form of cash since I am not allowed visits where I might pretend to be your girlfriend nor could I achieve 'hot' status.

I've enclosed the song Finn and I sang, picture us dressed as a priest and nun, and you'll have an idea of how awful we were. LOL. I'm also sending you some of the music we've been working on, Artie helped me find the guitar chords so I hope…'

~P&R~

Puck grinned as he read through Rachel's letter, it was filled with more gossip about their fellow glee clubbers, Mr. Schuester's idiocy and Coach Sylvester's efforts to destroy the club. Of greater concern was her news that Karofsky had been bullying Kurt again and not even the threat of the ACLU seemed to make an impression.

Rachel's letters had been coming almost daily since the first one, apparently she didn't consider a once a week phone call to be enough conversation for him. Even if her letters were a bit one sided conversation wise it was still nice to feel like he was included. And she'd always include her notes and flash cards from his classes. Apparently she'd been exchanging her famous sugar cookies for notes with some of the other students.

Now that he felt a little bad about, she must be baking non stop to keep him in study notes.

The inability to achieve 'hot' status was something way too dangerous to consider while he was in juvie. Rachel was hands down the hottest girl he knew, including Santana and Quinn. Rachel was always herself, she never pretended to be someone else, that made her hotter than either of the two Cheerios.

'Dearest Noah,

You're going to laugh so hard when you read this. Mr. Schuester got the brilliant (not really) idea that we should do The Rocky Horror Picture Show as the school play in order to make money for glee club. Apart from the blatantly sexual overtones of the play, which are sure to have the school board and Figgins going crazy, we have problems with the boys and their parts.

Santana keeps laughing about Finn appearing on stage in his underwear, which is silly because it won't be his, I'm sure we'll find some very concealing shorts that only appear to look like underwear. And poor Sam has to wear skin tight gold foil shorts. He seems terribly self conscious though I don't see why, I'm sure his body mass index is adequately proportionate.

I must admit that we truly could use a dose of your Jewish hotness on this play. You've never been shy about displaying your 'guns' and I'm sure you wouldn't hold your hands in front of yourself the way Finn does, should you be required to appear in your shorts. If I recall correctly, when we were dating, you answered the door in a towel and nothing else. I was forced to look at the carpet (not interesting) so I could stop blushing.

At the very least you would be a confident voice and you would do very well in Sam's part. I recall your arms are not the only part of your body that are muscular and frankly it would be nice to just worry about my lines and not about my co-star's modesty.

Please don't get the wrong impression, I don't miss you only for your appearance. Your confidence is one of the things I admire the most about you Noah. We could use a dose of your common sense and certainly Mr. Schuester would benefit from a smack to the back of his head. Accidentally of course. He seems to be using the play as a method of courting Ms. Pillsbury, which is foolish considering she's involved with that dentist.

I miss seeing you in history class. Lauren Zizes keeps looking at me like she's mad and I have no idea what I've done to make her so. I haven't even talked to her in months. Do you think I should? Artie sends his regards. He's scrambling and finally caught up with me before history today. He wasn't certain if you'd want him to write and hasn't had the time because of the extra classes he's been taking. Did you know he's been researching film schools? He's been interested in directing so he's taking more technical courses at the community college. But as busy as he's been, apparently he's still a little worried about you and mentioned that your swift return would be appreciated.

I brought my Dad to help rake the leaves at your house and Daddy helped with the gutters. I know you worried about your mother trying to do that herself so I made their favorite cake as a bribe. Daddy says he'll come by when you're back and show you how to fix the gutter that's hanging on the southeast corner of the house. He's promised to bring power tools. From the way he said it I'm guessing that's supposed to be a bribe or incentive. He means well Noah, take it in the spirit its meant.

I'd better close this, I've got to finish my reading for English. I'm so jealous that you're reading To Kill A Mockingbird this year. I'm stuck with Steinbeck and Hawthorne and really, Mockingbird is so much better. Daddy and Dad have the movie at home so when you're back we can watch it if you like. Please read the book though, I really think you'll like it.

Only a little while longer!

Affectionately,

Rachel'

~P&R~

Puck shook his head over the letter trying to picture Finn walking onstage in his briefs and Sam in shiny gold shorts. Legit Mr. Schuester had lost his mind if he thought the club would be allowed to perform the play in public. With a smile he reread the part where Rachel was talking about his muscles. She'd never acted like they were a big turnon while they were dating, if she'd told him once she'd told him a hundred times 'Your arms are lovely Noah' as if she was simply humoring him. He missed that, Rachel finding him funny and not being mean about it.

With a sigh he folded the letter up and put it with the others before he picked up To Kill A Mockingbird. Rachel had been right, he was enjoying the book even if he did have to reread every third sentence before he understood it.

'Dearest Noah,

This will be the last letter you receive from me. If I write tomorrow the amount of time it takes for the letter to arrive will effectively mean any further communication will arrive after you've already been released. I wanted to tell you that so you didn't think I'd suddenly begun ignoring you.

Rest assured that my time will not be wasted. Instead of writing to you in these, the final three days of your incarceration, I will be with your mother and at school, preparing for your arrival home. I'm told that you won't be returning to school until the following Monday which I can only take to mean that you will need some time to adjust.

I think this is the wisest course of action you could take, knowing your tender heart and sensitive nature as I do, returning immediately to McKinley's stifling and chaotic halls would be detrimental to your well-being. I suggest that you take the first day to simply relax and enjoy your freedom.

If you like I'll come by your house on Saturday to go over some of your course work. Your mother says you've been very diligent and I'd like to assist you as much as possible in completing your assignments. Artie has suggested that you take advantage of the computer labs in the public library to type your papers for history and English. I would be happy to meet you at home and drive you there if you'd like.

Daddy says that the Sunday after your return will be soon enough to work on your house. Dad says that he and I will meet you and your mom in front of Temple so we can all go in together. I overheard he and your mother talking about nosy old cats/bats and 'presenting a united front' so presumably we're going to stifle the gossip. Dad said me clinging to your arm will be a good red herring so let me know if you agree with that plan. I'm in favor of whatever makes this the easiest for you. But I'm also aware that my presence is sometimes more of an irritant than it is a help.

Your sister and I have made sure that all of the UFC shows have been recorded. Your portion of the DVR was filled up so I recorded the last couple weeks of shows at my house so you won't miss anything. I've caught my Daddy watching them sometimes so you might have company if you want to see them still. Also Daddy recorded all the Browns and Bengals football games, even though he says they were pretty pathetic. Dad says in the spirit of healthy competition he would record all the Cowboy games but Daddy almost threw a fit so Dad gave in. I think the only thing worse would be recording the Packer's games.

I still don't understand the appeal. It's a terribly violent game and it seems as if the goal is to injure the players not score baskets.

I'm sorry that this will be the last time you hear from me until you're home, but I promise to have a batch of cookies just for you to make up for it. That's assuming you found the letters a comfort at all, you've never really said.

Affectionately,

Rachel'

Puck folded the last letter up and put it in with the rest of the letters Rachel had sent. One for nearly every day he'd been in juvie. She'd been like a lifeline back to McKinley, keeping him up to date on all the stupid shit that happened. He could picture her sitting at her desk in her room, pulling out her stationary and writing out the letters. The paper even smelled faintly of jasmine from sitting in the same drawer as her perfume. Snapping the rubberband around the bundle he put them in his little box of personal effects. There were very few things he was allowed in his room, but everybody was given box for whatever junk they'd collected while they were in juvie. His held Rachel's letters and very little else, his one book allowed per week, and a comb. He was scruffy and his hair had grown out until it was almost curly which was going to drive him crazy until he could buzz it.

The guard came to collect him and Puck took a deep breath as he followed the man down to the out-processing center. Here he was given the plastic crate of books Rachel had gotten him, the books he could only use while he was under guard and that he'd lose the minute he tried to do anything violent with them. He never had. Juvie was scary enough, he didn't even want to think about real time.

And then he was being given his clothes, the jeans a little loose in the waist from the weight he'd lost, the shirt a little tight in the shoulders, chest and sleeves from the muscle he'd gained. But he'd take them because they were his, not a jumpsuit or a uniform, his jeans, his boots, his shirt and socks.

He was tightening his belt to keep the jeans on his waist and not his hips when the guard came to get him again. And now he was walking down a hallway with daylight at the end of it.

The light was almost blinding, at least that's how it felt. But really the day was sort of overcast, dingy brown grass with the remnants of frost. It was barely eight o'clock in the morning and the sunrise was still fading over the horizon. And then he saw his mom.

She'd gotten the car repaired somehow, he was going to have to pay her back he knew that, so she hadn't had to drive his truck. Becca was standing next to her practically bouncing. And there she was, Rachel Barbra Berry, standing beside his sister, a huge smile on her face.

Puck grinned and started walking faster, not quite able to run with the dead weight of the books and awkwardness of the crate but he quickened his pace until he was striding as fast as he could, until he was right there, they were right there.

And then he just stuck the books on the hood of the car and grabbed his mom in such a tight hug she had to tap out and tell him she needed to breathe. But that just meant it was Becca's turn and she squeaked in his arms and kissed his cheek.

Then there was Rachel. His lifeline to McKinley. And at that moment, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life. He reached for her waist and pulled her up and tight to his chest just as he had Becca, burying his face in her long strawberry smelling hair and taking deep sobbing breaths. She was saying something, he couldn't hear through the roaring in his ears so he eased his hold on her and let her slip down his body. "What's that angel?"

"I was asking if Becca and I were a good surprise?" Rachel smiled up at him and he couldn't help himself, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Best damn surprise I've gotten in my life," He admitted, it was all he could do to not take her face in his hands and kiss her until he was dizzy for lack of air. "How'd you two swing this?"

"Daddy told Figgins that I had a doctor's appointment. And your mom told Becca's homeroom teacher the same thing. We have to go to our third classes but we're all yours until ten thirty," Rachel smiled. "I'm taking all of you for pancakes." She told his mom. "It's my treat because you've been so nice about me horning in on your family phone calls."

Puck nodded and took a deep breath before he stepped away from her and grabbed the crate of books and his box. "Ma, if you'll open the trunk I'll put these away," He suggested.

"Put your coat on first," His mother suggested, grabbing it from the front seat and shoving it at him.

Puck could admit that the jacket felt better than just a shirt even if the knit would take a little while to stretch to accommodate his increased muscle mass. He was busy putting the books in the trunk and securing his packet of letters in the deep pocket of the jacket, making sure they were zipped in tightly when he heard Becca call shotgun. His mother started to argue and he shook his head, "I don' mind Ma," He said quietly. "I'll sit in the back with Rache. It's cool."

He looked at the girl who hadn't forgotten about him and smiled, "How 'bout it Berry? You gotta fill me in on the last week at McKinley. I been sufferin' without alla your letters and the news."

"You won't believe what Jacob Ben Israel did this time," Rachel began and Puck grinned. He was never going to tell her she talked too much again. He patted his letters surreptitiously. And these were going somewhere safe from his little sister's prying eyes.

He looked at Rachel, aware of the fact that she'd stopped talking for a moment and he'd simply been staring at her, "You know you're the best friend I got right?" He told her quietly, "Wasn't anybody else except Coach even bothered to try and contact me. Once Coach talked to you she sent me letters with plays and the run downs of the game. But she was the only one besides you from McKinley who bothered."

"I was sure that Mr. Schue…" Rachel's voice faded out and she shook her head. "He does tend to have tunnel vision," She admitted, adding quietly, "You're the only person I know who just lets me be."

"Because you're perfect the way you are," Puck told her flatly. "An' anybody say's different is full a shit."

"Language," Rachel scolded him. She undid her seatbelt and slid closer, buckling herself into the middle seat. "I missed the way you'd show up at my locker and make me jump and then just throw your arm around me on the way to class like it didn't matter that you were being seen with the school freak."

"I missed how you'd use ten words where four would do," Puck grinned. "And how you'd explain something over and over until I understood," He took a deep breath. "So you wanna come over after school?"

"I'm helping your mom with dinner and my dads are coming over too," Rachel smiled. "So yes. But you're to relax when I'm at school. We can work tomorrow."

"You got a deal," Puck wrapped his arm around her shoulders and let his chin rest on the top of her head, taking deep breaths of her hair. "Thanks Rachel," He said quietly. "Thanks for not giving up on me." He'd know she wouldn't, known it in his gut that Rachel wouldn't just abandon him to his fate, wouldn't ignore his need, wouldn't ever just leave him out in the cold the way she'd been left most of her life. She knew too well how it felt to be the outsider, she knew how it felt to be him and now he knew all too well just how it felt to be Rachel Barbra Berry. Puck let his hand squeeze her shoulder, he didn't care how much it pissed off Finn, he was going to make sure no one ever treated her like they'd treated him, not ever again.

"This may be a bit presumptuous," Rachel began. "But you are my best friend Noah. I couldn't possibly give up on you. You'd never give up on me."

And for Rachel Berry it was that simple, Puck thought to himself. Because she was right. She had no idea exactly why he was so loyal, why she'd been important to him even before her letters, but she was absolutely right.

As always.

Fin

Author's Note Post Script: So not much of an update folks, just some grammatical errors that were driving me crazy and I had to fix them. Thanks for reading.