A/N: I promise Faberry is coming but I'd understand if you don't want to wait. Thanks to those who continue to review and stick with me while I write a story the only way I know how. I appreciate it more than you'll ever know :)

Oh and please keep offering any suggestions of things you'd like to see. It might not seem like it but I have a nicely formatted Word document with them all written down. Even Brittana... which I loath to do again lol.


Twenty- Nine

The party was in full swing and like Puck suspected, it would be a lot harder to find Rachel than usual. Finding her tiny body in this mess of people was like a real life needle in a haystack: pretty much totally impossible, even if he knew she was there. Rachel Berry was never late for anything—not even fashionably like all the hot models in Hollywood—and yeah, Mike said he saw her an hour ago when Puck forced him to take over manning the door.

A black curtain and a couple pieces of chain—haphazardly wrapped around the railing—blocked off the stairs immediately to his left. It had been a bitch to put up but at least he knew she wasn't up there and more importantly his shit was safe. His mom would kill him if she came back from his Nana's and something was busted up, so it was totally worth it.

Puck looked to his right into the living room but it was completely dark, except for the black lights shining from the ceiling. Furniture was pushed back against the far wall covered in white sheets—the light making them glow—and people were moving to the beat coming from large speakers strategically placed around the room.

Yeah, Puck threw a bitchin' party… when you weren't trying to look for somebody.

Still making his way through all that wasn't exactly tempting so he went down the hall instead, trying to make it to the kitchen. A few people on the football team were leaning along the walls of the hallway but luckily they were too busy with other people to notice him. It wasn't that he didn't like any of them; he just didn't want to talk to them. Most of them were already drunk anyway.

Finally, he found the person he was looking for talking to some chick. Rachel's back was turned but he'd know those smokin' hot legs anywhere. When he grabbed her from behind—and picked her up to spin her around—she squealed, hitting his knees with her kicking feet.

"Damn it, Berry," he groaned, letting her go the minute the balls of her feet touched the floor.

And don't think he was pussy enough to reach down and rub his bruises. Though, her high heels felt like daggers to his legs.

Rachel spun around, huffing dramatically. "It was a perfectly reasonable response to being accosted from behind, Noah."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, waving her off with a careless jerk of his arms.

Her eyes narrowed momentarily—it was the beginnings of a Berry rant—but then they just seemed to brighten just as quickly. Puck was so freakin' confused until Rachel turned her attention back to the girl she'd been talking to.

Lauren?

He must've looked surprised or something because the big girl scoffed, "Yeah, Puckerman, you best be taking this in small doses if just one glimpse has you leakin' drool."

Rachel giggled. "Well, if you don't mind me saying, you are quite imposing to a boy that finds substance in bleach blonde's with a certain esteem for salads."

"What you said actually wasn't annoying," Lauren cocked her head to the side before shaking it like she didn't care at all, "and that's saying a lot after the forty-six messages you left on my phone to come out to this dump. Good job, Berry."

"Uh… I appreciate the sentiment…"

His tiny friend actually looked too shocked to form any more words... it was a total miracle.

"Yeah sure," Lauren shrugged nonchalantly before her dark eyes started darting around the kitchen. "You gots any candy up in here?"

So he was still standing pretty clueless because he wasn't expecting her. With her glasses, dark clothes and big ass boobs. He dreamed about motor boating them once… yeah it was awesome.

Rachel looked confused too and he was glad he wasn't the only one. "Umm… I guess I can look for you if—"

"Excellent. I will require them in a bowl thanks, preferably before Puckerman manages to talk."

Rachel just shook her head and walked away but not before slapping the back of his head. Was it sad (or so freakin' awesome) that the hit totally jump-started his brain?

It was like his mind was a Terminator computer. Sarah Connor could come kick his ass anytime and such a hot MILF on the brain had him back in the game.

Puck slid closer, eyebrows sexily moving, smirk at the ready. "Hey, babe, can the Puckster get you a drink?"

Except, he was stumbling backward after a hard push to the chest. Damn girl could be a wrestling champion.

"First, it's Lauren not babe. Second your pixie-stick sidekick is already handling all the refreshments I'll need."

Puck gingerly pulled himself up to his full height once again. "Do you dance?"

He watched her dark hair fly around her as she shook her head. "Nah, it's for pussies."

And Puck was seriously at a loss. Girls would be all over him by now, he was too hot to be turned down. She had to want him—she came all the way there just to see him so…

"The Puckster could take you on a private tour of his personal domain?"

Lauren burst out laughing. "No, just no."

Puck hadn't been expecting that. His stupid shoulders started dropping too because maybe he was a little disappointed. Her giant knockers were just so… okay so he found her a little interesting or whatever too.

It was just that fat chicks were supposed to do whatever you want… not that he'd got it on with many (or any because he wasn't sure if Mrs. Hudson counted, not that he minded her womanly curves) but that's what all the movies said, except for that one with Gwyneth Paltrow. And man, that lady was fine even in a fat suit.

But… yeah with Lauren he was that hypnotized guy. Maybe she was making him dizzy with her voodoo witchcraft. He totally saw that Tina chick chanting in a weird language on her phone, so he knew it was possible.

Puck racked his memory for another move—anything to get the wheels moving just a bit—but he knew he was fresh out. Those were his three go to moves (because he'd never needed anymore) so they were standing there totally awkward and fuck no, he was Finn.

He really wanted to stab himself in the eye until he felt somebody grabbing on to him from behind. It was for sure not Lauren and Puck turned around until he realized it was Santana's drunk (but sexy) ass trying to maul him.

"Lopez what—"

"Shh…" She tired to put a finger on his lips but it only ended up slapping his shoulder. "I wants to fuck."

Puck wasn't surprised. This happened a lot—because the Puckasaurus always left the ladies satisfied—and well, Santana was his most frequent flyer. She wasn't a whore but damn it if she didn't like sex. Lauren wasn't going anywhere and Santana was practically begging for him…

He sighed. "Babe, you should really go sleep it off or something."

She only clung tighter. "Fuck, Puckerman. Tells me you don't wants this?"

The slurring made everything she said come out all fucked up but it didn't make any difference. He already screwed up enough by sexing up a drunk girl, so he just shrugged his shoulders because he couldn't lie. He wanted her hot body badly, so so hot...

Until she started to cry.

God, crying was a total buzz kill.

Santana was full out balling in seconds—somebody must've let her get into the hard liquor—and Lauren looked as grossed out as him. She wouldn't let go of him and oh God chicks were nasty when they cried. Except Rachel but Puck decided that the girl did it so much that he had to have become immune.

And then those amazing legs appeared from the crowd. Rachel looked nice too in her awesomely short black dress with these stupid white stars decorating the bottom of it. He liked her hair too; it was messy and curly. Sex hair…

"Lauren, I hope Sour Patch Kids will suffice…" Santana instantly distracted Rachel—by letting go of him and completely latching onto his Jew bro's side—and Lauren yanked the bowl (of his sister's candy) from Rachel's hands.

"I want you," Santana cried and Rachel awkwardly shifted her weight to get a better grip on the crying drunk grabbing at her neck.

Then like always, his Jewbabe forged ahead with being polite and mannerly. "Well, yes, I'm going to go and maybe procure Santana some coffee. Have a pleasant evening."

Rachel quickly steered Santana through the crowd. Her kicking one of the guys on his offensive line in the shin—when he wouldn't move out of her way—had Puck shaking his head. Only Berry.

"Hey Puckerman," Lauren's voice snapped his attention back onto her. "This party is lame. I changed my mind about the tour."

She shrugged and Puck wasn't excited or anything. He was too badass to get all wound up about shit like that.

Or whatever.