Portmanteau Couple Name

A/n: So, as a certain obnoxiously addictive TV series has forced me out of fanfic retirement, I now present to you an extremely strange series of one-shots. After realizing all the couple names that get thrown around in this fandom, I decided to do a series of pairing one-shots based on the couple's name. I AM taking requests for this story. Leave a review or PM me with a couple you want to see featured and which name you want me to use, and I will try to write something for you. Draw me some fanart of any kind for this story, and I will 100% definitely include your suggestion.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter One: Partie

This was Artie's first party.

Well, he supposed, that wasn't entirely true. He'd been to birthday parties—he'd never had enough friends to even consider having one of his own, but Mercedes' parents threw her a giant bash every year, and he had attended several times. There was also that time that the entire club had gone to Mr. Schu's house to plan for Regionals, but he wasn't sure if that counted or not.

Needless to say, this was the wheelchair-bound singer's first party of any importance. He didn't recall the exact occasion—he felt like Brittany (the host) had said it had something to do with the first anniversary of her learning how to spell her name—but it was exactly the way high school parties were always portrayed in the movies or on television. Brittany's parents were absent; alcohol was everywhere. Football players and Cheerios danced to some too-loud techno music, and in a dark corner, several couples engaged in far more intimate forms of dance.

Artie pushed his glasses further up his nose as he glanced around, trying to locate the person who had gotten him into this party in the first place. Puck had explained to him that attending a party like this was the next step in his road to popularity. The nerd was under explicit instructions to get completely drunk. So far, he wasn't obeying them. His chaperone had disappeared within minutes of entering the party, most likely searching for a little Santana to liven up his night. He wouldn't be back for a while.

"Hi," someone said in a vague, breathy voice. He turned to see a blonde cheerleader (still in uniform despite it being Saturday night) perching on the arm of his chair.

"Oh. Hi, Brittany." There was awkward silence as the unintelligent blonde stared vacantly forward. "Nice party," Artie ventured.

"Thanks. Have you seen Santana? I think my cat ate her."

Having learned a long time ago to ignore over half of what the bisexual cheerleader said, Artie responded only to her question. "I think she and Puck vanished off somewhere." He hated telling her that—Brittany's feelings for her Latina friend were about as obvious as Finn's inability to dance—but he wasn't too happy with Santana himself, at the moment. He was feeling extremely lost without Puck to guide him through this unfamiliar territory.

"She's in trouble." Brittany announced, surprisingly decisive. She stood up. "I need to go find some eggplant. And figure out where my brother hid his Pokémon cards." Artie didn't dare ask what eggplant and Pokémon cards had to do with punishing Santana. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

As soon as Brittany had vacated the arm of his wheelchair, the less than comfortable seat obtained another occupant. This time, it was a tall, lean male in baggy jeans and a tight skirt. "Having fun?" Noah "Puck" Puckerman asked, holding a fist out for Artie.

The nerd bumped fists with Puck. "Yeah."

"Are you drunk?"

"I….think so?" He didn't actually think that he'd had nearly enough alcohol to achieve a drunken state, but who was he to know. This was his first time drinking.

"Good," replied Puck with a grin. "Now it's time for the next stage in your journey into popularity. We're going to need to borrow one of the empty bedrooms."

The nerd's face whitened. He knew exactly what the jock meant, and he was extremely uncomfortable with the thought. "I….I think Brittany and Santana are busy," he stuttered. "Something….something about eggplant and Pokémon cards."

In a second, the muscular, tanned jock was far too close for Artie's comfort. He kind of wanted to back away—which he would have done, had he not been backed completely into the wall already. Puck's smirk at that moment could be described in a single word: dangerous.

"Who said anything about girls?"