AN: This is my first foray into fanfiction, so please be gentle. :) None of the characters/brands/places/candies referenced in this story belong to me. I'm not really sure how long this is going to be, but I do have about 4 chapters more or less finished. Story and chapter titles are based off lyrics from the wonderful band Mumford and Sons. Reviews and advice are much appreciated!

The bitter Chicago wind blasted Puck in the face as he reached the top of the stairs leading out of the El. Bracing himself against the blast of cold air, he briskly walked up to the corner, stamping his feet against the concrete and glancing upwards at the skyscrapers as he waited for the light to change.

It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and he had somehow been roped into joining his roommate Mike Chang and his girlfriend Quinn (seriously, when did that shit happen?) at some fancy party being hosted by one of Mike's choreographer friends in a condo downtown. What he really wanted to do was order wings and watch basketball on the couch, but the promise of large amounts of alcohol (Quinn) and lonely groups of single girls (Mike) had persuaded him to join.

After Quinn had not so subtly indicated that his normal attire of battered jeans and band t-shirts would not be appropriate attire for spending the evening with a party full of holiday rejects, he realized that this shopping trip was an inevitable necessity. Bracing himself against the blast of cold air, Puck briskly walked up the street to the doors of Old Navy. Taking one glance at the store packed full of screaming children and frazzled suburban housewives fighting over sale racks, he decided that this shit was just not worth it. Turning on his heel and flipping the collar of his fleece jacket up, he took a deep breath and joined the surge back out onto State Street. Fuck this. Quinn can deal.

"Puckerman! You have approximately 30 seconds to get out here before my very expensive and very pointy shoe meets your most valuable commodity!" Quinn's voice shrilled from the living room.

Groaning, Puck flung his arm over his face and glanced at the clock. 9:45pm. He quickly showered and threw on the cleanest jeans he could find and a black t-shirt. Grabbing a flannel button-down he headed out to the living room where Quinn was furiously pacing and Mike was sprawled in a recliner, smiling indulgently and watching Sports Center.

"Seriously?" Quinn rolled her eyes disapprovingly at his attire as he slid his feet into a pair a Vans sitting near the door. Puck snorted and glanced over at Mike, who was wearing charcoal dress pants and a button down shirt and tie. Granted, he was also wearing suspenders and green Chucks, but still the boy was still whipped.

"No time to change! The ladies shouldn't have to wait any longer than necessary to be graced with the presence of the Puckerone! Let's go!" Puck ruffled her hair and headed out the door.

Mike said nothing as he grabbed his girlfriend's hand and led her out to the street. It was going to be a long night.

Leaning against the marble kitchen countertop, Puck surveyed the party and contemplated how to get revenge on Chang and Quinn for forcing him to come.

The party was being held at a high rise condo that vaguely resembled what Puck imagined Elton John's home to look like. Lots of white furniture and zebra-print rugs and weird abstract sculptures. And while the promise of booze had been true (Classy stuff too! His cup had been kept full of Johnnie Walker Blue all night), the choice of females was less than desirable. Lots of over-botoxed and over-dyed middle age women. Puck had outgrown his cougar phase since high school, and with the exception of the odd MILF here and there he tried to solely stick to hooking up with females within a 5 year range of his own age. Not that he was complaining, but he was seriously convinced that his friends had invited him to this party with the sole purpose of getting him laid. Preferably somewhere other than their small shared apartment. The walls in those old buildings are thin and Puck had been on the receiving end of enough Sunday morning lectures from Quinn to know that they did not appreciate the free show he and his lady friends gave them most weekends.

Glancing across the living room, a flash of green silhouetted against the view of Chicago skyline caught his eye. Tight little body cased in an even tighter dress and tall spiked stilettos. Bingo. Slipping into his best Don Draper personality(What? Dude is a BAMF), Puck slid open the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony, bracing himself against the cold night air.

"Mind if I join you out here? You look like you could use someone to keep you warm and I would be more than happy-"

His line was cut off as the female turned around and met his eyes with a withering glare.

"…shit" he exhaled as her chocolate eyes met his hazel ones.

Rachel. Fucking. Berry.

"Noah?"

Her face softened for a moment and then immediately hardened again. What the hell was he doing here? Rachel had just arrived in Chicago that morning and was absolutely exhausted. Her new roommate Kelly had forced her against her will to come to this party, insisting that it would be a good way to start forging connections in the Chicago theater scene. Never one to miss an opportunity to advance her career, Rachel had reluctantly abandoned her plans of a bubble bath and mug of herbal tea in favor of uncomfortable shoes and a party full of people she didn't know.

She sincerely doubted, however, that one of those connections that Kelly had promised her was supposed to be in the form of the ghost from her past that was currently smirking in her direction.

"In the flesh babe. "

Rachel sank down onto one of the loungers on the balcony and drained the glass of wine she was gripping. "Whatever are you doing here? This hardly seems to be your scene."

"I came with those two idiots" he muttered, jerking his thumb towards the sliding door behind him. Rachel gasped as she took in the sight of Mike and Quinn, faces pressed against the glass as they watched the scene unfold with looks of amusement.

"Beeeeerrrry!" an inebriated Quinn shrieked as she wrenched the door open and flung herself into the lap of the speechless brunette. "You came!"

Puck whirled around to face Mike, who was sheepishly following his girlfriend outside. "Dude. I had no idea. Q just let it slip a few minutes ago that she might be here. Girl cannot handle her rum punch. "

"When Kelly told me that her new roommate was and actress from Lima, I just knew it had to be you! Aren't you excited to see us? I thought it was too good to be true. I just can't believe it" Quinn screeched, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands like a drunken version of her former Cheerio self.

"Ahem."

Quinn abruptly stopped talking and frantically looked around to her boyfriend and roommate and then back to Rachel, who was still staring at her three high school classmates in shocked silence. "Ohmigod you guys I'm so so sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want to ruin the surprise in case-"

"It's a damn Festivus miracle Fabray. Now zip it."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably and wrapped her arms around herself, desperately wishing she had her coat. Or at least another glass of wine. "So…you all live here? In Chicago?" she asked Quinn, who had tucked herself against Mike's side with a giddy look on her face.

"Yep. Mike and I have been living here since we graduated from Northwestern and Puck just moved in with us in August."

"Choreographer. Accountant." Puck blurted, pointing at Mike and Quinn in succession. "And teacher" he finished with a sheepish look. This conversation is awkward as fuck.

His outburst finally snapped Rachel out of her haze and she managed to meet his eyes. "A teacher? Really Noah? That's wonderful."

"Obviously. Anything the Puckster does is wonderful. Now that you're caught up, how about you tell us why you're here and not off in basking in the bright lights of Broadway."

"Noah, all the stars have to get their start somewhere. After a lengthy and in-depth discussion with my fathers following my graduation from NYU, I decided that the best way to develop my resume was to join a touring company to gain some worthwhile experience. I would much rather be performing the classics on a small stage in front of a paying audience than be performing some student-written show on an even smaller stage in front of an audience that was bribed into the theater with promises of free drinks".

"Were there spreadsheets and timelines included in this life-altering decision?"

Mike snorted with laughter as Rachel shot Puck a look of annoyance before continuing. "And that's how I ended up here. I was invited to join a small theater company here in Chicago after they saw my performance in the touring cast of "Wicked". And the theater manager's sister Kelly was looking for a roommate-"

"And I work with Kelly!" Quinn blurted, her excitement rendering her unable to stay quiet any longer. "And now Rachel's here!"

"And now I'm here," Rachel echoed. "Any more questions?"

"Lots and lots Berry. Let's start with how the hell did you get into that dress."

Before Puck could even get the smirk off his face, Rachel was already on her feet and on her way back inside the condo, muttering her apologies to Mike and Quinn as she passed.

"Puck, you are seriously-".

"I know Quinn. I'm an ass. I'll go find her."

"Ber-...Rach, I'm sorry." Puck lifted himself up to sit on the kitchen counter, trying not to stare at the woman standing in front of him. Geez Puckerman. You should probably stop checking out her ass if you're trying to apologize. "That was kind of out of line."

Rachel silently pulled a bottle of beer out of the fridge and struggled to twist the top off, trying to ignore the presence of the boy behind her. No, she corrected herself, not boy. Man. Noah Puckerman had very definitely grown from a good-looking teenage boy to a very good-looking man. A man with the same piercing hazel eyes and chiseled jaw. A man whose fingers were currently grazing her own as he reached around her for the bottle and popped the top off with an opener on his key ring.

"I'm sure you're sorry" she snapped as she wrenched the bottle out of his hand and took a gulp, wincing at the yeasty taste. Better than nothing. "However, that was not exactly the most appropriate way to greet an acquaintance you haven't seen in several years. A simple query related to the ongoing conversation that was taking place would have been more than sufficient".

"Nice to see that you still use 5 words for every one that's necessary. Merriam and Webster must be so proud of you Berry."

"Noah Puckerman!" Rachel cried, dramatically laying her hand on her chest. "Did you just refer to a well known reference book? Your unexpected career in the education field has obviously influenced you for the better. I would have bough you a dictionary in high school if I had known it would have such an effect on you."

"Don't get too excited Berry. I haven't changed that much" Puck chuckled, glad to have the tension broken. "Anyways, why would I have needed a dictionary when I had my own personal midget thesaurus at my disposal."

Rachel stuck her tongue out at him. It was good to have him back.