These strange steps

9. Nine

Notes:

AN: In case this wasn't clear already, I thought I'd give a heads up that these two are going to pressing up hard against the boundaries of conventional sex from this point onward. Nothing extremely kinky, but bear in mind what they've outlined as their interests. :)

Chapter Text

Brittany doesn't have any solutions.

It helps a little, though, for Rachel to stumble out loud through hesitant explanations about what she's doing, and what Quinn is doing, and how much it's all going to end in-God, and she can't even look at her phone calendar anymore, where the date her commitment ends and she returns to New York has already been plugged in.

It's five more weeks. It's only five more weeks.

The fact that there's such time constraints in some ways make it easier for her to get up off the floor again, and tell Brittany that she's fine, honest, and that she just needs to get going to work; and it even makes it bearable for her to call Puck and ask for a ride.

He doesn't ask questions, because there are days-or there have been, in the past-where even the sensation of being stuck in traffic is enough to make her feel like she's hovering on that knife's edge that she can topple off of at any moment.

He just shows up about half an hour later with a bagel and a cup of coffee for her, and-it hits her, abruptly, how glad she is that he's in her life. It's something that she hasn't told him in far too long, and he's been slugging along through the same punishing schedule that she's kept in place just because time off means thinking about the things she doesn't want to think about.

The way she hugs him probably surprises him, but after a moment he gently strokes her hair and then says, "All right, Rach?"

"Yeah, just-happy you're here with me," she tells him, and then accepts her coffee with an almost-there smile.

He tilts his head at her a little, and then takes off his sunglasses and squints at her, and says, "You wanna talk about it? Quinn, I mean?"

She's sort of expecting the question, at this point, because both he and Kurt know they've had lunch-possibly more than once-and, yeah. It hits her all over again, how this stretches back into the recesses of her life, and they're all bundled together there.

A sip of coffee buys her some time to come up with an appropriately neutral response, and they both lean against the side of Puck's rental-not as flashy as her own, but he doesn't care and neither does she-and stare at the sun, almost directly above them.

"She's doing well," Rachel finally says. She's not hungry, but takes a bit of bagel at Puck's pointed look, and then slowly chews on it, before adding, "She's getting a master's in psychology and moved out here straight out of high school. Hasn't kept in touch with anyone, so it's not personal."

Puck runs his nails against his jeans for a moment, and then shifts a little awkwardly before clearing his throat. "Has she said anything about... um. About Beth?"

Rachel swallows hard, and chases the bite of food with another shot of coffee, and then shakes her head. "Not really. Other than that... Beth doesn't know that she's gay."

"Wait," Puck says, and turns to her more fully. "Back up."

"I've... asked her to consider coming to lunch with us, this weekend. I think you should really ask her anything else yourself," Rachel says, carefully, before blotting at her lips with the napkin Puck wordlessly hands over.

"No, I mean-she's gay?" Puck asks, raising his eyebrows.

"I doubt it has anything to do with that one time you fucked her, Noah," Rachel tells him, before smiling at him gently.