New and improved! Corrected some stuff, maybe you won't see it but I'm a perfectionist - there may still be some mistakes. Anyhow, read, ponder and enjoy! By the way, am I losing readers?

Puck came into her study to see her going through files at her desk. He swallowed and approached Rachel, sitting down on the chair in front of her. She glanced up at him for a second before going back to her files, writing more stuff on a piece of A4 paper until she's done. She put down the pencil and closed the file, then leaned back against her chair to stare at him. More like, glared at him. He shifted sheepishly in his seat and cleared his throat.

Silence stretched out like a really flexible spring until she shattered it by saying, "I have absolutely no idea whether I should thank you or screw the hell out of you." Her tone was immeasurably leveled and he couldn't figure out if she's angry or happy. He arched his brow, urging her to continue. "She appeared here yesterday." His eyes widened. "Yeah, while you were talking to me telling me you screwed things up; she jumped out of a cab and rang my doorbell like a madwoman."

His jaw hung open and he stammered before he decided on, "What did you do?"

Rachel leveled her gaze on him as she recounted everything that had happened yesterday. "So tell me, should I be grateful or should I be distasteful?"

He managed a shrug and gulped. "I don't know," he said. "You look like a freakin' doll with no emotion right now and I'm kind of freaked. Maybe you should be…grateful," he said with a shrug. "I mean, all those weights are no longer on your shoulders right? You just gotta be extra careful."

"I feel like I should return the favor of bringing you down after all you did while I was in the loops of complete confusion over my feelings towards her," Rachel contradicted and he paled. She smirked. She stood up and handed him a pile of files. "Put these in my office. Touch none of them. I have a morning appointment with Finn Hudson," she ordered and took her purse before heading out, followed by Puck.

"What? What are you doing with Hudson?" he questioned, taking the files with him.

She glanced over her shoulder and looked back to the front, making her way to the garage. "He called me last night and asked me to go out for a drink with him," she emphasized with disgust. "I can't believe he's got the guts to repeat the same thing after what he did to Sugar Motta not two months ago. I told him I was tired and made an appointment him for this morning. It'll be great for my plan to proceed anyway." She unlocked her car and slid into the driver's seat.

Before she could close the door, he hold it open and ducked his head so he could see her. "I know I'm being an asshole right now for going against my words. But um…" he hesitated, "I think you should think about what Fabray said."

She stared at him disconcertingly, opening her mouth to retort but found no words. Finally, she closed it again and ignited the engine of the car. "That's my problem, Puck. Now, all you have to do is help me put those files on my desk and go do your job – which is keeping an eye out on Quinn and make sure she's safe without screwing things up," she added and slammed the door close, narrowly missing his fingers.

Finn was already sitting at a table in Starbucks when Rachel came in. He grinned and waved at her and she waved back, offering a polite smile. She sat down opposite him and took down her sunglasses to look at him properly. Yup, as dopey and idiotic as ever. She felt pity for Harmony Dale for ending up married to this fool here who only intended to cheat on her time and time again. He looked at her skeptically with a smirk donning his features.

"Are you not gonna order a drink, Miss Berry?" he asked.

She smiled at him and shrugged. "Wait a minute," she prompted and a minute later, one of the attendants at the counter came with a cup of hot caramel macchiato and put it on the table in front of her. He nodded at her with a smile, she thanked him and he walked away. She watched Finn's startled expression as she drank from the cup. "I come here all the time. People know who I am and they know my order so yeah, every time I come in, I won't have to visit the counter again."

He nodded with a smile and drank his own coffee. "That is pretty impressive, Miss Berry."

"Why, thank you, Mr Hudson. So what is it do you want from me?" she directed the question at him, eying him suspiciously.

He quirked his brow and pursed his lips. "Why the sudden attitude, Miss Berry?" He sipped from his cup and cleared his throat. "I just want to get to know you. I want to be friends with you. And maybe…" he narrowed his eyes and his smirk grew, "something more than that."

Her jaw clenched subtly as she refused to give in to the yearning of punching him and defacing him. She forced a curt smile and crossed her arms. "Don't mind when I say this, Mr Hudson. But I had heard through the grapevine that you had been knocking up an innocent girl and refused to take any sort of responsibility of her pregnancy, causing her to commit suicide," she reminded him. But she didn't just hear it, she knew it. Hell, she was the one who led Quinn to the discovery of him being the culprit behind everything.

She couldn't help but feel pleased when she noticed his smirk vanishing and the dangerous glint in his eyes turned darker into something that only screamed agitation. He lowered his cup onto the table and mirrored her posture, leaning back against his seat.

"I don't think it's appropriate for me to risk myself and maybe my body when you have such a bad track record," she continued, leaning onto the table, braced on her arms.

He smacked his lips and ran his hand through his hair. "Everything you have heard is not true," he denied, lying by default.

"Explain why this so-called project for the butler café is now under your brother's control and no longer yours if whatever I have heard isn't true," Rachel chided. He seemed astonished by her persistence and she smiled at him. "I told you I am not easy. So if you really want this, make a divorce and then pledge yourself to be faithful. But if not, I can handle being friends but nothing more than that." She felt like she wanted to vomit hearing herself say those words. What she wanted right now was to be right next to Quinn but in order to have that; she had to be done with the Hudsons.

"Does that mean you want this?" he questioned, the smirk returning to his face.

Couldn't he just stop bloody smirking already? It's bloody irritating! She groaned inwardly. "Maybe," she said with shrug. "On my terms," she added and repeated, "maybe."

He gave her a nod. "Friends it is, Rachel," he said intently and she met his eyes, shaking his hand.

"Friends, Finn."

Lunch break.

Quinn grabbed her jacket and purse before heading out. She stopped at her doorstep and looked around for someone. When she spotted him at the end of the sidewalk looking at something in a shop through the window, she approached him and tapped his arm. He jumped in astonishment and swung around, ready to fight off whoever it was but relaxed when he saw that it was her.

He looked at her quizzically and she jerked her head to the street. "Wanna go grab lunch?" she asked with a friendly smile. Puck's stomach growled, betraying his starvation and she laughed. She pulled him by his elbow and started walking. "Come on. I'll buy you lunch."

They ended up sitting in Mrs Motta's restaurant and waiting for their orders to come up. He looked around warily, ready for any sort of trouble to come out. When he felt a hand on his arm, he turned to look at her. She was looking at him curiously, as if worried about him. He frowned and gulped. "Shouldn't you be like…mad at me?"

She quirked her brows and let out a chuckle. "Um…and why exactly?"

He shrugged and cleared his throat nervously. "I don't know. For stalking you and running out on you?"

She laughed and shook her head, patting his arm reassuringly before withdrawing. "No, I'm not mad at you. Well, at first I was because you ran out without answering my question. But not anymore. I understand why you're here and despite the many times I've tried to dissuade her from giving me a guard, she's stubborn like an unbreakable rock." Even without saying her name, they both knew who Quinn was talking about. "If I wanna be angry, I should be angry at her."

He narrowed his eyes. "You are, aren't you?" he asked slowly.

She stared at him for a minute, looking into his eyes as if she could see right through him and he was beginning to get anxious. "I was," she finally replied. "I was mad at her yesterday; for posting a guard on me without my permission; for attempting to control my life – which I found out she isn't; for not telling me exactly what is plaguing her and what is going on with her," she trailed off. "More than mad actually. It's more like…absolute rage eating at me and I want to let it out. So I let it out on the source of my rage."

"Rachel Berry," he spoke. And she nodded. "Well, I'm kind of sad you didn't succeed in dissuading her because – God – this just makes me bored out of my mind." He gestured between them and she laughed. "Have you…I don't know, have you ever thought of fixing your legs?" he asked sheepishly, afraid that he'd offend her.

She stiffened for a moment and smiled bitterly. "I've tried to have it fixed before," she said, looking down at her hands. "But…the surgery failed and kind of worsened my condition." She looked up to see him looking at her curiously and she smiled sincerely for him. "I never really limped since I've turned sixteen or seventeen. But I still did, on occasions and then I went to the doctor, trying to get him to fix my legs. He said there's ninety percent chance of it succeeding. I thought I'd be one of the lucky ones." She chuckled to herself. "I guess not."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to bring this up."

"No, it's okay. It's a long time ago. Like, six or seven years."

He stared at her for a moment, trying to contemplate on how to word his next question out and he sighed. "So if you have the chance, do you want to like try to get it fixed again?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you like spying for Rachel or something by asking these questions?"

He panicked initially until he noticed the teasing tone in her voice and he laughed. He shrugged. "I might be. I might not be."

Mrs Motta came to their table with a tray in her hand, carrying their foods and they thanked her profusely, knowing that she must have been going through a hard time now that her daughter's dead. Quinn asked about her recent life and Mrs Motta shook it off claiming that she's coping and she'll keep on coping. Quinn promised that she'll pay the old lady a visit during the weekend and Mrs Motta only gave her a thankful but melancholic before walking away.

They proceeded to take their lunch in silence and Quinn remembered to tip Mrs Motta before leaving with Puck. When they were walking back to the bakery, Puck handed her some bills and she looked at him like he's crazy.

"For the lunch and the coffee yesterday," he explained, thrusting the bills at her again.

She shook her head and pushed his hand back to him. "No, they're on me. Don't worry. You can buy me lunch next time."

He grinned and nodded. "Cool," he said and stuffed his money back into his wallet.

They walked quietly back to the bakery for the next couple of minutes, making way for pedestrians that seemed to be rushed all the time. Quinn rolled her eyes at the sentiment. This was New York, after all. She heaved a sigh and shoved her hands in her pockets. She looked back at Puck who seemed like he was contemplating something. She looked to the front and her eyes widened when she saw a man in a suit talking on his phone and not paying attention to his surroundings. And he was running straight towards Puck. Quickly, she pulled on his arm and pulled him to safety as the man walked passed them without even a second glance. Puck looked bewildered and she rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention to where you're walking, will you?" she scolded and shook her head as she trotted forward, Puck hurriedly following behind.

"Sorry," he muttered under breath.

She sighed and tilted her head to the side, glancing at him over her shoulder. "What's bugging you?"

He glanced at her sheepishly and looked away. "You don't have to know."

She nodded, accepting his answer. After all, they're not best friends. Maybe not even friends. She slowed her steps to be in pace with him. "So how'd you meet her?"

He lifted his head and smirked to himself at the memory. "She kind of saved my life," he began. He turned to look at her to see a perplexed look on her face. "Seriously, she did. I can never imagine what state I'd be in if it's not for her. Maybe I'll be dead." He laughed to himself. He looked at her with a smirk and shook his head, jerking his head towards the nearing bakery. "You should go in. There are people in there waiting for you to boss them around."

"You still haven't told me," she said, making her way to the bakery.

He laughed and shook his head again. "I don't think you need to know."

"No I don't," she said. He looked at her approvingly. She smirked, pushing the door open. "But I want to," she added before going in, leaving him agape outside.

Carole sat on the couch in the study as she listened to the conversation between her husband and her elder son. Finn was asking Burt to give the project back to him but Burt was adamantly refusing. Carole sighed and knew what this was all about. And she worried. She was really worried.

"If you want Rachel Berry, you can just say it," she voiced from behind them. They looked at her startled. "I know what this is about, Finn. You want Rachel Berry to yourself. And you think handling this project might appeal to that woman." Finn opened and closed his mouth several times, but found no words. "God, Finn, haven't you learned a lesson with Sugar Motta?"

He looked angry. "That was a mistake, Mom. Nothing like that will happen again."

"Once it's been done, I guarantee you there's gonna be a second time," Carole said. "Your father is not giving you the project to handle. So don't even think about it."

"Mom!" he protested.

She stared back at him stonily, daring him quietly to defend himself. "You are married, Finn," she said pointedly, part of what she's going to say was intended for Burt too. "You are married," she repeated. "You promised to stay faithful to your wife at the altar five years ago. I am not going to let you sabotage your marriage just because you want one or two sleazy affairs with some whores who just don't know how to keep their hands to themselves." She noticed Burt clenching his fists at the corner of her eyes and her lips twitched. "Rachel Berry is out of your reach, Finn. Forget about her and devote your heart into giving the company's your best effort and also providing your father and me with a grandchild."

He stormed out of the study, leaving his father and mother alone in the study together. She smiled to herself and drank from the glass of whiskey next to her. "Are you screwing with me?" She looked at her husband who looked both guilty and furious. She arched her brows. "The things you said to our son, they were intended for me too, aren't they?"

She shrugged and lifted the glass to her lips again. When she got her fair amount of drink, she put it back down. "Think it anyway you want, honey. I'm just telling Finn to respect us women and especially his wife."

"What is wrong with you?" Burt demanded, standing up. "My daughter is lost. Maybe even dead and you're not even concerned? Whatever it is between us, don't put this on a child! Look, I'm sorry about what happened with that woman, okay? I apologize. But feel at least an ounce of sympathy for me for I have a daughter and I don't even know where the hell she is!"

She stood up as well. "You can't be too sure you even had a child!"

"She told me she gave birth to my child!"

"Yeah? And how do you know if she's lying? Hell, you haven't even seen the child and now you're claiming that it's a girl?"

"She told me it's a girl."

"Because you've wanted a daughter for so long, Burt!" Carole shouted. Her chest heaved as she took each angry breath in. "I loved you, Burt. And I can't even believe you had two children with two different women! One is now living in our house and one is out there somewhere! And you don't even know if it truly exists!"

"It is a she!" he yelled back.

She scoffed and stormed to the door. "The reason I have never divorced you and will not divorce you is because I have a son who needs his father to love him." She stared into his eyes. "But sadly, it seems like you don't at all." She turned the knob and stepped out.

Rachel paced the floor of her office, thinking over everything she knew now. This was mind boggling. She didn't know how to do this. And it was undoubtedly disconcerting. She had never in her life experienced a time where she was so...directionless. She had no guide, nothing whatsoever to tell her what she should do next. She was at a loss. A knock sounded on her door and she stood stiff, ordering the visitor to come in. The door opened to reveal Sebastian. He had a stack of really thick papers in his hands.

She watched him taking a step in and closing the door behind him, with that signature smirk of his pasted on his face. And after so long since he made that crude remark of trying to get her in bed, she wanted to slap that bloody smirk off his face. But she restrained herself from doing anything stupid or impulsive. She braced her hands on her hips and watched him relaxed on the couch after putting down the papers on the coffee table. He turned to look at her.

"These are all I got, so far," he claimed, pointing at the papers. "Their company is deteriorating, from what I gather."

She flopped down on the couch next to him and flipped through the papers he printed. There were stocks charts and the company's daily reports. In conclusion, everything. She raised her brows as she ran her eyes over the prices of stocks in the stock-market. There were falls in stock more often than not. She wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Sam Evans literally had no brains in this field of occupation at all. Her eyes zeroed in on a drastic fall not two days ago. And then the slight rise after.

"This is…bizarre," she commented.

"That's why I said the company's deteriorating," he told her. She looked at him. "My attempts on hacking into Sam Evans' and his father's personal email accounts came as a success because they were having private conversing through emailing. Evans had been entertained with quite a wonderful tirade from his father through email because of the loss his mistakes and thorough stupidity had brought to the company. I have printed those as well in case you needed them."

Rachel smiled gratefully at him and found the papers consisting of the emailing between Burt Hudson and Sam Evans. Before she could get the chance to read them, Sebastian asked, "So do you have a plan B now?"

She paused in her movements and slowly, she removed the stack from her lap and replaced it on the table. "Have you talked to Puck lately?" she asked him, evading his question.

She heard him grunt and she sniggered, knowing that they had at least one talk. Sebastian threw his arm around her shoulders and laid his head back against the couch. "Unfortunately, yes. Two nights ago, I was awakened from my very pleasurable – and might I say erotic – dreams by a phone call from one Mr Noah Puckerman." He breathed slightly and snickered. "But I was kind of glad he called because I have received some very interesting news from that phone call." She rolled her eyes. "I was initially angry at you for telling her. But then I thought, you've already abolished the initial plan, so why not? And it became far more interesting for me than infuriating, which is a good thing."

She nodded in agreement. When she looked up, he was staring at her in an unreadable way. She shifted in his arm uncomfortably and he laughed. "What? You're making me uncomfortable," she exclaimed.

"Tell me, is there anybody else other than who has made you uncomfortable before?" he asked.

"Quinn," she said without hesitation. "But in a good way. Unlike you and Puckerman. You guys give me the freakin' creeps all the time I freak sometimes."

"Should I be honored?"

"Yes."

He threw his head back and laughed heartily. When he sobered up, he withdrew his arm and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. He turned back over his shoulder and scrutinized her. "But seriously, any plan B?"

She thought about lying but he was one of her two best friends. She couldn't lie to her best friend. It just ate at her conscience. She wanted to laugh at herself for being ridiculous. She somberly shook her head at him and immediately felt guilty when she saw the disappointment making its way to his face.

"Is it okay for me to ask why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know myself. It has all been eating at me. I had a perfect plan but I couldn't use it because it involves the love of my life." He quirked his brow and his eyes turned glassy as he thought about God-knows-what. She swatted at his arm and he chuckled. "I went through information you and Puck had given me. But as far as I know, there is no loophole or lead that can bring us success in this. I still have to think about it. But there will be something. I promise."

"You've thought of giving this up, haven't you?" he asked after a couple of minutes of watching her. Her eyes widened along with his grin. "Come on, Rach, I've known you for like so many years. It's not that much of a surprise that I know what you've been thinking from the looks of your face. We're like sister and brothers, including Puck."

She scoffed. "Do sister and brother have sex?"

He chortled at that remark. "We were drunk! And horny. And angry. Puck is still holding that grudge over me for getting to sleep with you and he doesn't." He slapped her thigh lightly. "It was great, by the way." She glared at him and he grinned slyly, winking at her.

"I am not sleeping with you again."

"We can have a threesome when you get together with Miss Fabray."

He spent the next twenty minutes running away from Rachel in the office.

Brittany bounded down the sidewalk towards Santana and with a squeal, she leaped into Santana's arms, disregarding the annoyed pedestrians walking passed them. Santana laughed and wrapped her arms tightly around her girlfriend. She just never knew how she got so lucky to have this bubbly woman as a girlfriend. She buried her nose into Brittany's hair and inhaled her shampoo-scented hair. Somehow, the shampoo never really smelled the same when Santana used it.

They exchanged sweet nothings when Brittany released her from her bear hug and together, they strolled and talked about stuff, as if there was nothing to worry about. Santana would squeeze her girlfriend's hand occasionally because that action could prove to her that Brittany Susan Pierce was real. Even after months of dating each other, Santana could hardly believe that the blonde girl actually existed! Brittany would then grin at her and leaned in for a peck. People – non-homophobics – would think that they were a happy married couple when they saw the two of them.

They ended up taking a useless stroll in Central Park. Brittany was once again attracted to the ducks at the pond and Santana – of course – stood there and let her girlfriend watched the ducks swim. The fact that these ducks just looked hideous and stupid to Santana didn't matter, as long as Brittany was enjoying herself, there's nothing Santana wouldn't do. When the blonde got tired of standing and watching, they sat down on one of the many park benches and just chilled.

"Is your sister okay?" Brittany suddenly asked, surprising Santana. Santana stared at her wide-eyed and the blonde laughed. "I was just asking, don't worry."

"Why would you ask about my sister?" Santana questioned warily.

Brittany shrugged and scrunched her nose. "It just looks like you were always saying Miss Berry was not treating her right all the time we went out so I thought I'd ask because I don't think they're talking about your sister anymore."

"Who?"

"Puck and Miss Berry, silly!" Brittany informed with a grin.

Santana's mouth formed an 'O' and she nodded to herself. Then she smiled at the blonde, leaning in for a kiss before answering. "Well, Quinn has been…distant recently, I guess. She's been distant like all the time ever since your boss and her got something fishy going on, which was a long time ago. Wait, you mean they talk about Quinn all the time?"

Brittany's gaze shifted towards the ducks at the pond and she looked as if she was thinking. "I guess so. I mean, every time they're talking loud enough I don't hear them talking about Quinn. So yeah, I thought when they're not talking about her, she won't be so sad."

"What do they talk about?"

Brittany shrugged. "Business crap. I don't listen to that because it's like so boring. I like hearing things about people and animals. Especially ducks. Oh, and dolphins!"

Santana quirked her brow and laughed. "Dolphins? Why?"

"Because dolphins are gay sharks!" Brittany leaped to her feet and ran over to the pond, leaving Santana who was rendered speechless by what Brittany had just told her.

Puck climbed out of his car in the alley and locked it before heading to the rusty doors. He pulled them apart and closed them back once inside the bar. He smirked when he saw a group of hot ladies sitting at a booth and giggling while casting occasional glances at him. Jackpot. He sat on a stool at the bar and nodded in acknowledgement at Mike. Mike returned the nod while wiping a glass with a cloth.

"The usual?" Mike asked, already taking out the vodka and tonic from the cabinet behind and mixing them together. Puck nodded and murmured a word of gratitude when the glass of strong alcohol was put in front of him. Mike resumed his task of wiping the glasses clean. "So what are you up to recently?"

Puck shrugged while nursing himself with the drink, savoring the taste of it. "Running errands for Berry." Mike nodded. "She told me you met Fabray."

"You mean Quinn?" Puck nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, I did. She's a…weird lady. I mean, who orders diet coke while in a bar? Especially one with so much swagger as mine!" Mike exclaimed. "However, she's a lightweight. Last time it took her only three glasses of vodka to get drunk. That beat the record of my lady friend."

"You mean your fuck buddy."

Mike narrowed his eyes at Puck. "I mean my girlfriend."

"Then say your girlfriend! What the crap is a lady friend?"

Mike smacked the strip of cloth on Puck's arm. "Sometimes, I wonder why Rachel is such close friends with you."

"I'm her buddy, asshole."

"Yeah, whatever. Listen, I've got some paperwork in my office to look through. So you just…enjoy yourself here. And please don't make more trouble here. I really am growing tired of throwing you out every time you get drunk off your ass and then start some trouble with some dude." Puck flicked him the bird but Mike ignored him. He didn't pass up the chance to hit Puck in the head before retreating in to his office.

Puck brought the glass to his lips and thought back to Quinn's question. How'd he meet Rachel? He chuckled to himself. Under a very weird circumstance. He remembered when he was running around stealing stuff like crazy without any strategy. Then getting caught every single time. He wasn't proud of himself that time of his life. But it was all thanks to Rachel and Schuester that he became the person he was now.

He recalled one night when he failed in stealing some bun and he went starving like shit. He was weak and he had no stamina at all. At last, he collapsed outside Schuester's house. He wondered how long it took for someone like Schuester to carry him inside his house and upstairs to a bed. Must've been exhausting, he thought. When he woke up to the voice of Schuester and Rachel conversing outside the room he was staying in, he found out he'd been out for the past couple of days.

He laughed when he recalled Rachel's alias that time. Barbra Saunders. What kind of fucking name is that? But for some reason, she had decided to tell him her true name, as if she wasn't afraid that he'd tell other people and let the authorities put her behind bars for conning too many people. She even told him her story, for whatever reason she didn't know.

And then Schuester and she spent the next two days pampering him with food and drinks and also the luxury he had never came to enjoy for a long time. For example, a long hot shower. He smiled when he remembered how freakin' awesome it felt when he stood under the shower head and let the hot water washed his filthy body. He swore he'd never felt as good as that before. And then one day, Rachel disappeared. Schuester told him she was back on the road to con more people, to gather more information on her own.

Puck felt the overwhelming desire to help her that time and when she came back three months later, he told her he wanna help her. She was reluctant but at last agreed to let him help. She then taught him everything she knew. Lock-picking, stealing without getting caught, lying to people, you name it.

And now, look where he ended up. He had money, he had two best friends. Yeah, sometimes it was hard working for Rachel, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Seriously, am I losing readers? Review to tell me you're still reading this, alright?

Maybe give me some idea on how I should write the next chapter cuz I'm feeling kind of blocked here, if you know what I mean. I might take your suggestions into consideration!