Fic: Memories That Last Forever
Title: Memories That Last Forever
Pairing: Puck/Rachel friendship, Puck/Quinn, Rachel/Jesse.
Word Count: 900
Spoilers/Warnings: None.
Summary: She didn't want to go to the first one, but she wouldn't miss the second one.
Beta: None. There are probably mistakes.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Also, I am not Jewish.
Note: Feeling a lot of love for Puckleberry friendship right now, wrote this in about an hour. I don't usually "pair everyone off" or whatever, but I couldn't resist with this. SO MUCH FLUFF. Let me know what you think!
Rachel Berry can still remember Noah Puckerman’s bar mitzvah. She’s often thought over the years that it was post-traumatic stress or something. The day that seemed to never end at the time had been painfully burned in her memory in horrific clarity for the past fifteen years.
But now, she thinks, she’d be okay if this memory replaced it.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
She’s standing off to the side, next to Noah’s mother and sister, watching this very special day unfold. Noah and Quinn’s son Daniel is eight days old today, and Rachel feels honored to be here to celebrate with them.
She listens to the blessings, watches Rabbi Greenberg and the mohel perform their sacred duties. She watches Noah and Quinn, standing off to the side. She notices Quinn grip Noah’s hand a little tighter, her forehead creased with a small frown, just before the baby lets out a healthy yell.
Everyone in the room shouts “Mazel tov!” Noah’s mother starts to cry, and so does Quinn’s. (Truth be told, Rachel gets a little misty herself.) Noah smiles widely, ridiculously proud, and kisses the top of Quinn’s head, whispering something that she smiles softly to, nodding.
The tiny baby is handed back to his mother and Rachel can see Quinn subtly checking to make sure that his fingers and toes are all still accounted for before she holds the baby boy close to her heart, soothing his tears away. Noah’s large hand cradles the baby’s small head and he presses a soft kiss to the downy soft brown hair.
The sight of the newly complete family sends Rachel over the edge and tears start streaming down her face. Leah Puckerman shoves some tissues into her hand before pulling her into a tight hug.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Rachel is stuffing her face with brisket (and other homemade goodies that she’s missed since she’s been in New York) when Noah comes over to sit next to her.
After high school most people lost touch. It was a fact of life. People moved all over the place, got busy with new friends and new interests, and just…drifted apart.
But.
There was one exception to that. Rachel and Noah never dated again after senior year, but for some reason they always kept in touch. At first Rachel suspected that it was only because he didn’t want to go to temple in a new city alone. But for whatever reason, even after they both found new groups of friends, it stuck.
As luck would have it, she and Noah were good for each other. Neither one of them were traditional by most people’s definition of the word, and it just kind of…worked. They brought out the best in each other.
“Hey,” he greets her with a smile and a kiss on her cheek.
Rachel hastily swallows and responds with a cheerful, “Hey, Daddy.”
Noah rolls his eyes and says, “Christ. I still can’t get used to that one.”
“It’s only been about a week, you’ll adjust,” she assures him, taking another bite of brisket.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks amusedly.
“Mmm!” She nods enthusiastically, still chewing. “I’ll have to remember to tell your mom how fantastic this is. I need the recipe.”
“She loves you enough she might just give it to you,” he winks.
“I can only hope,” she says solemnly.
They sit there together in silence for a few moments, Noah deep in thought, Rachel deeply involved in her plate of food.
“So, I was thinking about something the other day,” he starts hesitantly.
Rachel looks up sharply, a piece of roll halfway to her lips.
“About what?” she asks warily. This better not be another story about that time she drunkenly serenaded him with showtunes in college. That story has been told quite enough.
“About my bar mitzvah.”
“Oh.”
“I know it’s way overdue, and practically ancient history now, but I’m sorry about the icing thing. “
“Really?” she asks him, feeling her chest swell with affection. “I thought you forgot about that.”
“Nah, but I always felt kinda bad about it,” he shrugged in true Noah fashion. “I figured today was a good day to start fresh, y’know?”
“Noah, I’m touched.”
She pulls him into a hug, laughing softly when she remembered that this was the same position they were in at his bar mitzvah.
He sighs when they break apart and looks around the crowded living room.
“I should go mingle.”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta get going. I have to return my dad’s car and get to the airport soon,” she tells him regrettably.
He looks at her for a long moment, before saying, “I’m really glad you came, Rachel.”
“Of course,” she smiles up at him. “But remember our deal.” She places a hand on her rapidly expanding belly and tells him, leaving no room for argument, “When I have this one in three months, you’re coming out to New York to meet him.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. “Who else other than me is gonna teach him to throw a baseball? St. James? I don’t think so.”
Rachel smiles and laughs, following him over to say goodbye to Quinn and baby Daniel.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Rachel watches Noah cradle his new son close to his chest, a husband and now a father. She can barely believe that this is the same boy who smeared blue icing down the back of her snow white dress at his bar mitzvah.
Pairing: Puck/Rachel friendship, Puck/Quinn, Rachel/Jesse.
Word Count: 900
Spoilers/Warnings: None.
Summary: She didn't want to go to the first one, but she wouldn't miss the second one.
Beta: None. There are probably mistakes.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Also, I am not Jewish.
Note: Feeling a lot of love for Puckleberry friendship right now, wrote this in about an hour. I don't usually "pair everyone off" or whatever, but I couldn't resist with this. SO MUCH FLUFF. Let me know what you think!
Rachel Berry can still remember Noah Puckerman’s bar mitzvah. She’s often thought over the years that it was post-traumatic stress or something. The day that seemed to never end at the time had been painfully burned in her memory in horrific clarity for the past fifteen years.
But now, she thinks, she’d be okay if this memory replaced it.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
She’s standing off to the side, next to Noah’s mother and sister, watching this very special day unfold. Noah and Quinn’s son Daniel is eight days old today, and Rachel feels honored to be here to celebrate with them.
She listens to the blessings, watches Rabbi Greenberg and the mohel perform their sacred duties. She watches Noah and Quinn, standing off to the side. She notices Quinn grip Noah’s hand a little tighter, her forehead creased with a small frown, just before the baby lets out a healthy yell.
Everyone in the room shouts “Mazel tov!” Noah’s mother starts to cry, and so does Quinn’s. (Truth be told, Rachel gets a little misty herself.) Noah smiles widely, ridiculously proud, and kisses the top of Quinn’s head, whispering something that she smiles softly to, nodding.
The tiny baby is handed back to his mother and Rachel can see Quinn subtly checking to make sure that his fingers and toes are all still accounted for before she holds the baby boy close to her heart, soothing his tears away. Noah’s large hand cradles the baby’s small head and he presses a soft kiss to the downy soft brown hair.
The sight of the newly complete family sends Rachel over the edge and tears start streaming down her face. Leah Puckerman shoves some tissues into her hand before pulling her into a tight hug.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Rachel is stuffing her face with brisket (and other homemade goodies that she’s missed since she’s been in New York) when Noah comes over to sit next to her.
After high school most people lost touch. It was a fact of life. People moved all over the place, got busy with new friends and new interests, and just…drifted apart.
But.
There was one exception to that. Rachel and Noah never dated again after senior year, but for some reason they always kept in touch. At first Rachel suspected that it was only because he didn’t want to go to temple in a new city alone. But for whatever reason, even after they both found new groups of friends, it stuck.
As luck would have it, she and Noah were good for each other. Neither one of them were traditional by most people’s definition of the word, and it just kind of…worked. They brought out the best in each other.
“Hey,” he greets her with a smile and a kiss on her cheek.
Rachel hastily swallows and responds with a cheerful, “Hey, Daddy.”
Noah rolls his eyes and says, “Christ. I still can’t get used to that one.”
“It’s only been about a week, you’ll adjust,” she assures him, taking another bite of brisket.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks amusedly.
“Mmm!” She nods enthusiastically, still chewing. “I’ll have to remember to tell your mom how fantastic this is. I need the recipe.”
“She loves you enough she might just give it to you,” he winks.
“I can only hope,” she says solemnly.
They sit there together in silence for a few moments, Noah deep in thought, Rachel deeply involved in her plate of food.
“So, I was thinking about something the other day,” he starts hesitantly.
Rachel looks up sharply, a piece of roll halfway to her lips.
“About what?” she asks warily. This better not be another story about that time she drunkenly serenaded him with showtunes in college. That story has been told quite enough.
“About my bar mitzvah.”
“Oh.”
“I know it’s way overdue, and practically ancient history now, but I’m sorry about the icing thing. “
“Really?” she asks him, feeling her chest swell with affection. “I thought you forgot about that.”
“Nah, but I always felt kinda bad about it,” he shrugged in true Noah fashion. “I figured today was a good day to start fresh, y’know?”
“Noah, I’m touched.”
She pulls him into a hug, laughing softly when she remembered that this was the same position they were in at his bar mitzvah.
He sighs when they break apart and looks around the crowded living room.
“I should go mingle.”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta get going. I have to return my dad’s car and get to the airport soon,” she tells him regrettably.
He looks at her for a long moment, before saying, “I’m really glad you came, Rachel.”
“Of course,” she smiles up at him. “But remember our deal.” She places a hand on her rapidly expanding belly and tells him, leaving no room for argument, “When I have this one in three months, you’re coming out to New York to meet him.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. “Who else other than me is gonna teach him to throw a baseball? St. James? I don’t think so.”
Rachel smiles and laughs, following him over to say goodbye to Quinn and baby Daniel.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Rachel watches Noah cradle his new son close to his chest, a husband and now a father. She can barely believe that this is the same boy who smeared blue icing down the back of her snow white dress at his bar mitzvah.