"So, this is clearly the living room. There's the dining room; the bathroom is down that hall. And here's the kitchen," Rachel said flicking on the lights in each room as she carried on her tour.

"Er…it's nice," Puck said following Rachel into the kitchen. Puck didn't know what else to say. If someone had told him a month ago that he would be anywhere near Rachel Berry's house, let alone standing in her kitchen, he would have accused them of dropping some bad acid.

Yet, here he was.

Puck took a glance around the room. He decided that he liked the kitchen; it had a nice lived-in feel to it. There were several gadgets on the counters amidst loaves of whole grain bread and bowls of fruit.

Puck noticed that the stainless steel refrigerator was covered in photographs. He moved closer, and realized that what he was seeing represented a photographic timeline of Rachel's life. There were pictures of a baby in a pink blanket, pictures of a young girl on-stage with a microphone, and a fairly recent picture of Rachel that looked like it came from the yearbook.

"I forgot those were in here," Rachel said gesturing to the collage.

Puck's eye zoomed in one photo, and he pulled it off. Rachel edged closer to see which one he grabbed. To her dismay, she saw an image of her six-year old self. Her hair was in pigtails and she was proudly displaying a wide smile with two missing front teeth. Not to mention the disproportionate size of her nose to the rest of her face.

"That's not one of my favorites. I look like a dork."

"Yes, yes you do," Puck agreed with her but not in a mean way. He replaced the photo and stepped back. He quickly rescanned the most recent photo of her and said, "At least you grew into your nose."

Rachel wasn't sure what he meant, but she decided to take it as a compliment. In an effort to change the subject, she asked, "Are you hungry? There's some ice cream in the freezer and we have good toppings."

"Okay." Puck could always eat and they didn't get a chance to have dessert at the bowling alley since Finn and Quinn left so early.

Rachel grabbed vanilla frozen yogurt and chocolate ice cream from the freezer and set it on the counter. Puck grabbed the whipped cream and chocolate sauce while Rachel started cutting up some strawberries and bananas.

Puck set about building a four-scoop monstrosity of a sundae complete with a whipped cream mountain, a river of chocolate sauce, nuts, sprinkles, and a couple of cherries. He was admiring his creation when he noticed that Rachel had only given herself one scoop of vanilla and topped it with fruit.

"That is not a sundae. It's not even a wannabe," Puck said in almost an accusatory tone.

She pointed to his masterpiece, "Do you know how much extra time I'd have to spend on the elliptical if I ate something like that?"

"I never thought of you as a coward," Puck taunted.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Rachel reached over the counter and took a huge spoonful from Puck's bowl which she then promptly shoved in her mouth.

Puck watched her struggle to swallow the big mouthful. It took her a moment, but she finally got it down.

"Well?" Puck prompted. "How is it?"

Rachel wiped her mouth with a napkin while Puck took his own bite.

"It's good."

Puck finished chewing. "This isn't just good, it's freakin' orgasmic."

Rachel blushed slightly.

Puck pushed his bowl closer to Rachel. "You have to help me eat this."

Rachel hesitated.

"Come on," Puck urged, "You can throw it up later if you want."

Rachel decided not to mention her weak gag reflex, and instead grabbed another spoonful from Puck's bowl.

They sat just eating for a few minutes. Since she was not a huge fan of silence, Rachel asked, "So what do you think of our chances at sectionals?"

"It doesn't sound like our competition is that tough. I mean, how hard is it going to be to beat criminals and deaf kids."

"But we can't become complacent. Even if we breeze through sectionals, we still have to worry about regionals."

"I'm not worried," Puck said scraping the bottom of his bowl, "We have you on our team."

"Thank you for saying that. But as Mr. Schu keeps pointing out, I can't win by myself. That's why I've been working so hard with the other group members and with Finn. I'm pleased to say that he is turning into quite a performer."

Puck felt his own gag reflex rise. "If by performer, you mean person who has finally stopped tripping over his own feet."

"Sure Finn's not the best dancer, but he has improved dramatically. And his vocals are excellent for someone with no training."

"Yeah and so aren't Artie's and Kurt's and the rest of the guys and the cheerleaders…" Puck was feeling extremely annoyed.

"Everyone in our group is a valuable part of the ensemble. However, not everyone possesses that star quality, that indescribable 'it factor' that engages the audience. Finn has that."

"Is that why you like him?" Puck jumped out of his chair and practically threw his bowl in the sink.

"Are you mad at me?" Rachel asked innocently. "Because I think you are very talented too, and if you continue to apply yourself…"

"I don't want to talk about me; I want to talk about Finn." Puck paced around the kitchen absentmindedly rubbing his mohawk.

"I've been trying to figure out what Finn has that makes girls fall for him. I thought maybe it's his freakish height that makes girls feel safe. Or the fact that he's the quarterback, or maybe it's that girls find his duh personality irresistible. But here you are telling me that Finn just has 'it.' I can't compete with 'it' because I don't know what it is."

"There doesn't always have to be a concrete reason. Sometimes, people just like certain other people. Why do you like Quinn?"

Puck stopped in his tracks. He hated how perceptive Rachel could be; it's like she saw right through him.

He tried to act casual, "What makes you think I like Quinn?"

Rachel pretended to think, "Oh, hmmm, maybe it's the fact that I have eyes. I've seen you looking at her during practice."

"Oh," Puck thought he had been less obvious.

Rachel continued, "I thought the whole point of our arrangement was to see if Finn and Quinn would get jealous enough of us to break up with each other. If they broke up by themselves, then you wouldn't feel bad going after Quinn and I wouldn't feel bad by pursuing Finn."

Puck sighed and sat back down. "So you knew when I asked you to go out with me, that I didn't just have Finn's best interest at heart?"

Rachel smiled, "You're not as smooth as you think you are."

Puck smiled back, "Yes I am."

Rachel looked away and surveyed the kitchen: ice cream had melted from the container and made drips on the counter, sprinkles were scattered everywhere, and somehow chocolate had gotten smudged on the back of the kitchen chair.

Puck saw Rachel's disgusted look and offered to help clean. He was wiping down the table with a sponge when the phone rang. Rachel talked for a few minutes and then hung up.

"That was dad #1. He said that his cooking group decided to go out for drinks because they had a rough class—something about a fallen soufflé. Anyway, they won't be back for a few hours."

Puck was actually glad. Hanging out with Rachel was kind of fun, and he knew of a way to make it even more so.

When everything in the kitchen was put away, Puck dragged Rachel into the living room. He stopped in front of the wooden cabinet that he had taken note of during the earlier tour. Puck knew a liquor cabinet when he saw one.

"I'm assuming this belongs to your dads. How come it's not locked?"

"We have built a solid foundation of trust."

Puck opened the doors. "Good, then they won't mind if we borrow some." Puck looked at some of the bottles and sniffed some that he didn't recognize.

Rachel was not a do-gooder by any means. She was willing to fight dirty to get what she wanted, and she wasn't completely against a little teen experimentation. However, she didn't relish the possibility that she might get caught and grounded.

"My dads will know if some of their spirits is missing, and they will know who is to blame," Rachel pointed out.

"Not if I make my patented cocktail." Puck pulled out two glasses and started pouring in a little liquor from each bottle, a splash of this and a dribble of that until the glasses were half full.

Rachel could barely tell that Puck had taken any at all.

"If we need to, we can add a little water to the clear bottles to make up the difference," Puck said as he handed Rachel her glass. She took a small sip and it burned the back of her throat.

"So, what do you call your concoction?"

Puck raised his glass in the air, "I call it…Alcohol!"

"That's not very clever or funny."

"No it's not," Puck agreed, "But it will be in a few minutes."

Puck was right. After Rachel downed her glass, a few refills, and the beer that Puck grabbed from the fridge, she was finding the littlest things amusing.

"If I rub my eyes really hard, I see a k…kal…kaleidoscope of colors." Rachel said giggling as she sat on the sofa. "It's like a rainbow." Rachel started humming Somewhere Over the Rainbow rather loudly.

Puck was feeling a little buzzed himself, but he definitely knew how to hold his liquor better than Rachel.

Rachel decided that rubbing her eyes was no longer fun, so she stood in the center of the room and started to twirl. She continued to spin until she caught her foot on the coffee table. Puck jumped up and steadied Rachel before she could fall.

"Whoa, take it easy." Puck held onto Rachel's shoulders to limit her movements.

Rachel pouted. "You can't tell me what to do."

Puck tried to reason with her. "Your dads are gonna be back in like an hour, so I think you should be in bed asleep when they get home."

"I don't want to walk up the stairs, they're so...so…," she struggled to find the word, "so…vertical."

"That's usually how stairs are," Puck stated. He could tell that Rachel was not willing to move, so he motioned to his back and told Rachel, "Climb on."

It took her a few tries, but Rachel finally managed to secure herself on Puck's back in proper piggyback style. He staggered up the stairs and found Rachel's room in the second door on the left. When he reached the foot of her bed, he ordered her to get off, and she reluctantly complied.

"That was fun," Rachel said swaying on her feet slightly.

"I should get a job as a carnival ride," Puck responded.

"You should," Rachel said seriously.

"Okay, time to lie down." Puck kept his eye on Rachel as she sat and then scooted back on the bed and rested her head on the pillow. He took off her shoes and placed them in front of the closet.

"Puck?" Rachel motioned with her hand for Puck to come over, so he sat next to her on the bed.

Rachel's eyes were fixed on the ceiling, but she said, "I'm sorry Quinn doesn't like you. I know what that feels like."

Puck didn't know what to say.

"It's just because you act all tough on the outside, and you're hard to read, and you have a mohawk, and you used to be a bully," Rachel muttered.

Puck wondered how out of it Rachel really was. "Maybe I should get rid of the mohawk," Puck joked.

"No!" Rachel sat up on her elbows, "I like it. It makes you unique. I can always pick you out in the hallways."

"You look for me in the hallways?"

"Well recently, that's what a good girlfriend does, even a fake one."

"You're the best fake girlfriend I've ever had." Puck assured her.

"You ever get tired of pretending? Tired of putting on a show or keeping up appearances?" Rachel said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Puck had no idea what she was talking about. Drunk people always thought they were so profound.

"Yeah, I do," Puck said because it seemed like Rachel was waiting for an answer.

"Me too," she nodded.

While Puck was wondering how long it would take for Rachel to fall asleep so that he could leave, he felt a pair of hands slowly grab both sides of her face.

He started to ask her what she was doing, when he felt Rachel put her lips on his.

It was a soft pressure at first, but it quickly grew in intensity. For someone who had seemed so out of it only moments before, Rachel now seemed hyperaware of everything around her. She wrapped her arms around Puck and pulled him close. He put his hands on either side of Rachel and stretched out his entire body until he was lying next to her. Rachel continued her frenzied kissing while Puck's hands slid up and down her torso. It wasn't until Rachel had pulled Puck's shirt free from his jeans and was stroking his back, that Puck asked himself what the hell was happening.

Puck couldn't deny that what Rachel was doing felt good. She smelled fantastic and tasted even better. But, Puck remembered, Rachel was a little drunk so she might have no clue what she was doing and hate him in the morning.

Breathing heavily, Puck pulled his face back a few inches. Rachel groaned in protest and tried to pull him back.

"Wait Rachel. Are you sure you want to do this?" he almost dreaded the answer either way.

Rachel nodded and let her hands slide lower to show Puck that she was serious. Puck resumed his dominant position and kissed her fiercely. His shirt hit the floor and Rachel's followed quickly. After several minutes, Puck knew he was reaching the point of no return.

He pulled back one more time just to make sure. Something felt off. He looked into Rachel's face and saw something there that he had never seen before: eager adoration. Puck was used to seeing fire or determination or antagonism, all the things he associated with Rachel. None of that was in there now. This was the look that Rachel usually reserved for another certain male member of the glee club…

With a long sigh, Puck pushed himself away from Rachel and off the bed completely.

Rachel seemed surprised, "I want this," she insisted. "What are you doing?"

"The right thing," Puck grumbled as he picked his shirt up off the floor and headed into Rachel's bathroom.

Puck threw his shirt back on. He filled the sink with cold water and splashed his face in the hopes of cooling some of the fire that was surging through his veins. He dried his face off and looked into the mirror.

"Stupididiotdumbassmoron," he muttered.

Puck couldn't even be sure that Rachel had been thinking of him at all when she had pounced on him. Puck certainly wasn't going to take advantage of her now, especially considering the accusations that Quinn had once laid at his feet.

Puck was not that guy; at least he was trying not to be that guy.

Since Rachel's dads were due home any minute, Puck raced downstairs to clean up. He put all the liquor back in the cabinet and rinsed out their glasses. He put the pillows back on the sofa, and sprayed a little air freshener that he found under the sink. When he was convinced everything looked the way it did before, Puck went back upstairs.

He entered Rachel's room with a little trepidation. Rachel was lying on the bed with her top still off and her eyes closed.

Puck crept closer, grabbed an afghan, and lightly placed it over Rachel's sleeping form. He picked her shirt up off the floor and folded it neatly and put it on her bureau. He went into her bathroom and filled a glass with water. He brought it back into the room and set it on her bedside table along with some aspirin that he had found in the medicine cabinet, she was definitely going to need it when she woke up.

Puck glanced down at Rachel, who looked surprisingly peaceful, especially considering her twirling fit earlier. Her breaths came out in short, even puffs. Before he knew what he was doing, Puck bent down and placed a light kiss on Rachel's cheek.

"Good night Rachel," he whispered. "I'm glad I didn't make the same mistake again," he said so quietly he wasn't even sure it had been out loud. Puck shut off the light and gently closed the door.

********

Rachel had been half asleep when she had felt a light, warm pressure on her cheek. She had wanted to answer the deep voice who had whispered something to her, but she had been too sleepy. She remembered hearing the word "mistake," and thinking that she didn't know what that referred to. Right now, all Rachel could think of as she snuggled deeper under her blanket was that she felt safe and warm. As the door clicked closed, she drifted off into an even deeper sleep and began to dream.