A/N: So…this is a continuation of the last chapter. And you can blame it on the handful of people who demanded a sequel. And, in case you were all confused, no, it's not part of the Daniverse.

The second Puck was out of her sight; Rachel frantically looked around for her best girl friend.

Kurt Hummel.

Spotting him dancing with his boyfriend a few feet away, she quickly scurried over to them.

Rachel tugged on his shirt sleeve. "Kurt, may I have a word? It's urgent," she said in a rush, sending Oliver, Kurt's main man, an apologetic look.

"Can't you see that I am dancing with my incredibly hot boyfriend?" Kurt replied tersely.

Rachel looked at him pathetically, and Kurt immediately stopped dancing. He knew that look; it was Rachel's infamous look that had Kurt, I need your help; it involves Noah Puckerman and I don't know what to do written all over it.

Kurt turned to his partner, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and said, "Sorry, baby, this may take a while."

Oliver took one look at Rachel and nodded sympathetically. "It's a guy, isn't it?"

"It's Noah Puckerman, to be precise," he said dramatically.

His eyebrows shot up and he gave a low whistle. "The best man?" When Kurt nodded, he turned to Rachel and winked. "Honey, you are one lucky gal."

She sighed huffily, despite her cheeks turning pink. "You only say that because you don't actually know him."

He chuckled and kissed Kurt on the lips. "Good luck handling the situation. To the both of you," he said, half-encouragingly and half-jokingly.

Kurt and Rachel both gave him a solemn salute before he took Rachel's arm in his and walked them off the dance floor.

"Okay, before you go into Super Intense Rant Mode, I need to know exactly what happened. I want full details, Berry," Kurt demanded regally, as they sat an empty table.

Sighing, she said, "Well, he rudely coerced me into joining him for a slow dance and—"

"Did he smell nice?" Kurt asked in a low, almost-creepy, whisper.

She faltered, blinking a few times. "Yes, he did smell rather ni—I'm sorry, I don't quite understand how his scent will help matters." She gave him a weird look.

He waved a hand dismissively. "Just curious. Now, continue on with your little dramatic tale of woe."

Ignoring the snarky comment, Rachel continued, "After our dance, wherein he rudely told me to shut up, we parted ways…but not before he…" she trailed off, fighting the urge to flail her arms about.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Before he what, sweetcheeks?"

"Well," she murmured, dragging out the word, before wincing and rushing on to say, "He kissed me on the lips, told me he'd 'see me around' and then walked away without a so much as a second glance."

His mouth dropped and he glared at her through his bangs. "You let him walk away after he kissed you? Rachel, honey, that was the wrong thing to do!"

She frowned. "Then what would have been the right course of action?"

He rolled his eyes as if it were obvious. "You were supposed to drag him into a dark, secluded area and then work out all the sexual tension you two have built over the years." He paused, "And by that I mean, jump his bones."

She looked at him wryly. "I'll just say that I'm glad that I went and found you instead."

"I'm not straight nor am I a naked Puck; you made the wrong to decision to come and find me," he muttered.

Rachel took a deep breath and rubbed her temples. "I feel like I'm back in high school all over again," she mumbled.

Kurt's eyes softened and he patted her hand. "You two kids never did get it right," he sighed, shaking his head.

She winced. "I thought I'd finally moved on and forgotten all about our history," she whispered, propping her head up with her hand, elbow on the table. "I hadn't seen him in years, and I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't helped Quinn with planning her wedding, and Noah wasn't Finn's best man, it would have stayed that way."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "The only reason that that would've happened would be because the both of you are too stubborn to meet up on your own."

She raised an eyebrow incredulously. "Kurt, I've been living in New York. I only flew back for these couple of months for the wedding so I could help Quinn plan it."

He paused. "Right. There's that, too."

"When I was in New York, I thought about him," she admitted, "Everyday, in fact." She sighed and wrinkled her nose. "When did my life become a second-rate romance story?"

Kurt shrugged. "When you graduated and moved to New York a week later without telling him you loved him," he murmured quietly.

Her eyes softened and she whispered sadly, "Yeah. You're probably correct."

They sat in silence for a moment before Kurt straightened in his seat and punched Rachel in the arm.

Gasping in pain and surprise, Rachel clutched at her wounded arm and backed away from Kurt. "You just physically assaulted me!" she cried, pouting and examining the area a few inches above her elbow. "That's going to bruise," she murmured disappointedly to herself.

"The cause of all your heartache is on his way over!" he hissed.

Her eyes widened and she made a move to bolt from the scene.

"Ah ah ah!" Kurt tutted, reaching up, he grabbed her by the elbow to pull her back into her seat. "Sit, Ms Berry," he stated firmly.

She made a feeble whine and slumped in her seat.

He rolled his eyes. "Where's your speech on the importance of posture and the effects and signs of back problems now?" he asked dryly.

She huffed and sat up straighter.

"Good girl," he teased, his tone slightly condescending.

Rachel shot him a glare and made to open her mouth, most likely to tell him off, when Puck had arrived at the table.

Puck raised an eyebrow. "You two girls done here?"

Kurt mirrored his look and asked, "Why do you ask?"

"Your faggot wants you, Hummel," he said casually.

Kurt stood up and said dryly, "I'd be offended if I heard that coming from anyone else." He gave Puck a once-over in his black tuxedo and glared at him. "You're lucky you're so attractive," he grumbled and flounced off.

Puck watched him flouncing away and shook his head. "Dude, what a total flamer," he said fondly, plopping down next to Rachel. "'Sup with you, Berry?"

She worried her bottom lip and looked at him. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Noah, how can you be so nonchalant?"

He frowned at her. "What? Hummel and I go way back; 'snot like it bothers him when I say shit like—"

She quickly waved her hand back and forth. "No, no! I didn't mean that!" She paused briefly before pointing a stern finger at him. "Although, it's regrettable that I spent all that time and effort researching and putting together that power point presentation and speech on the usage of degrading terms related to homosexuality for you, only to have you completely disregard all of it. I even made up pie charts and graphs."

He rolled his eyes. "Pie charts only interest me if they're actually made of pie," he said flatly. "Besides, that was years ago."

"But it should have stuck with you! It's only common curt—" she cut herself off with a sigh as she realized that she was getting off topic. "No! That's not what I want to be speaking to you about!" She made a small noise of frustration. "You always somehow manage to get me off topic," she mumbled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you freakin' out about now?" he asked slowly.

Her eyes darted about the room, with just a hint of paranoia. "Let's go outside into the hallway," she suggested, shooting up out of her seat.

Puck stood up as well, but seemed a bit unsure. "Uh, Berry?"

Wordlessly, she grabbed his arm and led him out of the large, crowded room and out into the empty hallway.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?" he asked.

"I thought we were friends," she muttered, after a hesitant pause.

His eyebrows shot up. "We are friends," he said, in a painfully slow voice, as if he wasn't sure if she'd understand or not.

"Don't speak to me as if I have a problem with mental retardation!" she snapped irritably.

"Hey!" he snapped back, "You're the one that asked that dumbass question!" She sighed and looked at him, which caused him to frown in response. "Wait," he said, "This isn't about…" He rolled his eyes as she bit her lip nervously. "Berry, it was just a kiss," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

She hesitated for a moment before saying, "Well, yes. I know that. But…"

He raised an eyebrow. "What? You had a little taste of the Puckerone and now you want some more?"

Her cheeks flushed and she sputtered incoherently for a second.

"Spit it out, Berry!"

She closed her eyes for a brief second, as if gaining the necessary strength to deal with Puck's antics, before she opened them and looked at him. "Why did you kiss me?" she asked seriously.

He looked at her, completely baffled. "What?"

She frowned. "I know you heard me."

He ran a hand down his shaved scalp, having lost the Mohawk for the wedding, and said, "Christ, Berry. I dunno," he paused, shrugging, "I just…did."

"Not acceptable for an answer."

He shrugged once more. "Did it to mess with ya, then."

Rachel swallowed down the hurt she felt and murmured uneasily, "Oh. I see. Right. Of course." She pursed her lips and looked at the ground. "Um, I apologize for bothering you about the whole matter. It appears as if I made a big fuss over something that held little to no importance."

Puck looked at her oddly. "What? Why else would I do it?"

She gave a short, tired laugh. "No reason, I suppose. I was probably just being paranoid and over thinking about the whole ordeal."

They stood there in silence for a minute or so before she sighed and looked up at him. "I'm going to join the others—"

"You're leaving," he blurted out.

Her brows knitted together. "Excuse me?"

"You're flying back to New York in a week," he elaborated.

"Well, yes. I live there, Noah," she said lightly.

He let out a ragged sigh. "It's just like high school, isn't it?" he mumbled.

She gave a bitter chuckle. "I was just thinking the same thing, actually."

"We kept fucking up."

Rachel knew in an instant that he was talking about them and what could have been. "Yes," she murmured sadly, "There were a lot of things that…didn't quite work out."

He took a deep breath before letting out another ragged sigh. He ran his hands down his face before looking at her. "Fuck, Rachel. Listen, you were it, okay? You were the only girl that meant more than some fuck, okay?" he confessed.

"Really?" she asked breathlessly. "There haven't been any girls since…since me?"

He shrugged. "Just the weekly fuck or so," he admitted shamefully.

Her face fell and she shook her head. "You know I always hated it when you resorted to that sexual lifestyle."

"Well, yeah. But you hate it when I lie, too," he pointed out.

Her eyes softened and she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you for being honest."

"How about you? Any guys I should hunt down?"

She smiled sadly. "A couple of boyfriends here or there. Most of them were casual courtships; just one guy who actually proposed a few months ago after an on-again, off-again relationship of a year or so." She felt a small surge of happiness when his eyes quickly swept down to her ring finger.

"I don't see a rock on your finger," he pointed out, eyebrow raised.

"When I didn't say 'yes' fast enough, we both sort of realized that…we were just settling for each other and we broke up," she said, shrugging. "I was sad at first, but I also realized that there was someone else." She looked at him pointedly.

Playing stupid, Puck feigned a look of confusion. "What? Who? Who could you possibly be in love with that would make you turn down a future husband that would only divorce you in the end because of your special brand of crazy?" And then he smirked at her.

Her eyes narrowed at him, obviously finding his joke distasteful.

But that didn't change the fact that she was still flying home and he was still in Lima, Ohio.

"I'm still leaving," she said quietly, looking down at her feet.

"So?" he shrugged. "I'll go with you," he said, so casually that she didn't even register that he was offering to move to New York with her.

Her head whipped up to meet his smug, little grin. "I'm sorry? Could you repeat that?" she breathed.

He raised an eyebrow. "If your apartment's big enough, I'll just move in."

"Noah, think of this realistically. This isn't some romantic movie! I mean, your life is here, your family, your job. You can't just uproot everything and—and move away!"

Puck rolled his eyes. "I haven't got much of a life here, my mom and sis can deal, and my job sucks," he rattled off on his fingers.

Rachel's eyes widened as they grew teary and she almost stopped breathing. "We're really doing this? You're really—"

"Don't cry, Berry. Not cool," he warned. "But if I move in, you have to promise to go down on me every night," he said solemnly. "I mean, I am throwing away everything I know for you. That's a big sacrifice."

"You're disgusting, Noah Puckerman," she shot back.

He leaned down with a devilish smirk, whispering huskily into her ear, "I know, Berry, I know."

Puck kissed her hungrily before she could reply, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her eyes fluttered close as her arms circled around his neck. Just as the kiss was deepening, the entrance into the ballroom swung open, and they jumped apart guiltily.

"Guys! Where were you?" Tina demanded. "Quinn's about to throw the bouquet!" And then she hurried back inside.

Puck rolled his eyes and turned around, fully ready to make-out with Rachel again. As he leaned in, she threw her head back and smacked her hand into his face, his poor nose getting most of the impact. "Ow! Fuck, Berry!" He stood upright and rubbed at his nose.

"We can finish this discussion later! Let's get back inside!"

"By 'discussion', you better mean 'crazy, fucking hot sex. With handcuffs'," he said.

She rolled her eyes and dragged him inside. "Come on, Noah! I want to see who'll catch it!"

"Probably Hummel. That bitch is crazy," he muttered.

(Puck turned out to be absolutely right with his prediction. The causalities? One girl sported a black eye, one had a bald spot or two, and another one came away from the scuffle with a split lip.)