Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own ideas.
He had shown up to Santana's house what other, less cool people would call fashionably late. He simply called it "Puck time". His buddies were standing around the back door, and one offered him a beer from the cooler.
"Nah. Not yet." He never got drunk when he knew there was a chance he would get laid, and being at Santana's meant he could definitely get some action tonight. But first he had to find her. He wandered through the house, and finally cornered her at the island in her kitchen, with a bottle of vodka in her hands. She grinned when she saw him.
"Screwdriver?" she asked. He chuckled and wrapped one arm around her, reaching under her skirt with the other.
"I'd say yes to the first syllable." He whispered in her ear. Santana moaned, but pulled away and turned to face him.
"Not right now." He raised his eyebrow. "I'm on a mission. It should be amazing once it's complete."
"A mission?" She nodded, her eyes looking devious.
"Come to the basement if you wanna see." She ducked under his arm with one full and one empty cup.
"One of those cups is empty." He yelled. She turned around and winked.
"I know. Come find out why."
He considered following her, purely out of curiosity, but a blonde chick walked by him then and gave a 'come hither' look. So he went after Blonde, and into the front room. The bass was thumping loudly, and he could tell that at least one of the speakers was blown. It was rattling badly, and starting to get on his nerves a bit, but Blonde grabbed his belt loops, and he forgot right then what he was thinking about. She tried to grind on him, but soon he'd grown bored of being teased by Blonde. So he smacked her on the ass and walked away, over towards a group of guys standing around a table with a shirtless hot chick dancing on it. This was a Puck kind of event.
Hot Chick was obviously drunk, since she couldn't keep a rhythm to save her life. The guys were getting their wallets out, throwing ones at her. Sweet, Santana had hired a stripper. Puck started to get his wallet, but he noticed Santana taking pictures. And then Hot Chick turned around. Hot Chick was Rachel Berry. She was walking towards Santana, looking green, but Santana pushed her back onto the table.
Suddenly Puck understood Santana's mission. Rachel Berry was trashed. Santana was loving it. He wasn't.
"Nice." He whispered in Santana's ear. "You spiked her drink." Santana chuckled.
"I thought it would be fun. She needs to get off her high horse. And look. Now she's high up on a table. No horse in sight." He snorted angrily and tried to push through the masses of guys trying to grab for her. He grabbed her shirt off the table and reached for her hand to get her down, but she lost her drunken balance and started to topple over. He shoved one of the linebackers out of the way, and caught her before she hit the ground.
"Come on man!" one idiot said. "Put her back." Puck got up in his face and he backed up.
"Thought so." Puck said. The guys started to crowd in around him, to prevent him removing her from the party. "Move." He said simply, his voice steady and icy. A couple guys went to confront him, but backed off quickly when they saw his face, the face that dared someone to cross him. The team knew that face, and quickly the crowd dissipated, groaning and mumbling about Puck always getting the girl.
He walked out of the family room and towards the back door, hoping to get her outside before she blew chunks. She was dead weight so he tossed her shirt over her so he was able to grip her better. Her eyelids fluttered.
"Put your shirt on." Since she seemed to be alive, he figured she could do that much.
"But I'm hot." She slurred back, her eyes shutting again. He chuckled and shifted her higher, looking down at her bare torso and long legs hanging from his arms.
"That's not the point, Berry. Put your clothes on." Her eyes popped open and a disgusted look came over her face. Puck was afraid he wouldn't make it outside in time when she started to squirm, so he tucked her closer trying to get her outside that much quicker.
"Put me down! I want to go back to my friends!" She yelled. Ah yes. Drunk chicks. Puck remembered why he hated them. They were so damn bossy. He got her through the door and set her down like she'd asked.
"Your friends huh?" She turned her head up towards him, and he could tell she was trying to focus on him. Her head was wobbling and she looked ridiculous. After a moment, he asked, lamely, "How're you feeling?"
She turned her head to look forward. "I'm fine. Just a little dizzy is all." Her upper body was now moving, and he could tell she wasn't going to be able to sit up much longer.
"Uh huh. How bout you lay down for a minute, see if that helps." She looked back up to him, and he wasn't sure if she could understand him. So he bent over and pushed her gently backwards. She toppled back ridiculously, and it took everything he had not to laugh at her.
"The stars are so pretty." She mumbled drunkenly. Then she turned her head to look at him. "You're so pretty." He couldn't resist laughing at that, but she didn't seem to hear, she just kept staring up at him.
"Right. I uh, I need to go back in for a second. Don't move." She just stared up at him. "Promise?" God, if any of the guys saw him doing this, he would never live it down. He was glad they were all still entertained inside, or his reputation would be toast.
"I promise." She whispered. His heart jumped in his chest at her tiny voice, and how vulnerable she was right now. "I like the stars," she continued, "I'm going to be one someday." He shook his head and chuckled as he headed back towards the house.
Santana was pressed against the wall in her basement when Puck found her, and he quickly shoved the guy holding her there aside.
"What the hell, Puck?" She yelled. He grabbed her arms at the shoulder, not tight enough to hurt her, but enough to get her attention. He lowered his voice to a deadly tone.
"If I see, or hear anything about those pictures you took, I swear to God I will make sure that you regret it."
"You're all talk." She spat back.
"Try me and find out." She faltered a moment, and then hung her head.
"Whatever. I'll trash the photos." She said, and then looked him in the eye. "But everybody who's here tonight, and everyone who isn't has probably already heard about it. Nothing you do will change that." He shoved her back towards the wall and started back up the stairs.
"You're leaving?" She shouted after him, cackling. "But the party's just getting started."
Puck walked back outside and found Rachel right where he left her, laying on the ground. She turned her head towards him.
"I want to go home now." She whispered. He reached his hand down towards her. She took it, and pulled herself up to a sitting position, then up to standing.
"Can you walk?" He asked. She started to wobble and fall, but Puck reached out and caught her around the waist. "Guess not." He scooped her up and she squealed like a little girl. He hoped to everything that no one saw him carrying this girl, because that would start rumors of a whole different kind for her, and he was sure she would have enough to deal with already come Monday. He had Puck luck on his side tonight, though, and he got her to his truck without an incident. He even managed to get her in and her seat belt on before she said anything.
"What's going on?" She muttered.
"I'm taking you home, Berry. You're stupid drunk."
She laughed. "I can't be drunk. All I've had all night is orange juice. You can't get drunk off of…" her laughter gets the best of her for a moment. "Off of… orange juice." More laughter from her. "You should know that, Mr. Puckerman." He tries to laugh along with her, but she starts again. "I've never even touched alcohol! In my whole life! Except, this one time, at a function with my dad's, I snuck a taste of this wine. Ugh, it was horrendous! I would never touch alcohol. It is so vile."
"Only you would use big words when you're drunk." She started to unbuckle her seatbelt, but he stilled her hand. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm driving myself home. I drove myself here." He reached across her and pushed the buckle back in until it clicked.
"Humor me tonight, Berry. Let me be a…" God help him for saying this, "…a gentleman and drive you home." She stared at him for a moment, her eyes rolled back up in her head, and she nodded
"But only because I'm so dizzy." She leaned her head against the head rest, and closed her eyes again. Puck hopped in the cab and looked at her for a moment.
"Are your dad's home tonight?" She murmured something. "What?"
"I said no! They're in New York for the week. They'll be back on Wednesday." Great. He couldn't leave her alone in the state she was in. So he got to babysit the drunken soprano while his friends were having fun. Puck luck wasn't on his side after all. He started the ignition, figuring at least he could play video games while she slept this off. And then he could take her back to her car in the morning.