Summary and Author's Note: This is two-fold. First and foremost, it is for Twitter friend and fellow Puckleberry writer missphenix, who knew I was having a bad day and, because she's a complete sweetheart, posted bunches of Mark pictures to make it better. She requested the following prompt from textsfromlastnight. com (503): we fucked while he was on the clock. He didnt even take off his bullet proof vest. Dont tell me thats not bad ass.

Also fills fictable prompt #18 – Impulse over on my LJ (goingvintage. livejournal. com)

The station was buzzing when Puck pushed through the heavy metal door, ignoring the grinding metal of the hinges that begged for maintenance. Walking up to his desk, he tossed his keys, his gun, and his radio down and shot an angry glare at the flashing red light that indicated messages waiting on his phone. Plunking down tiredly in his chair, his eyes glanced up and registered that it was 11:15pm. He should have been home three goddamn hours ago. Of course, crime never slept in Chicago so most of the time, neither did he.

Puck picked up the phone, entered his voicemail code, and pushed the phone against his ear, tapping his fingers against the desk to an imaginary beat as he listened.

"Detective Puckerman, this is Mr. Johnson from the mayor's office. We're needing an up—"

Skip.

"This is Maria from the dry cleaners….I think I remembered something else about that suspect. Please stop by when you have a moment. Thank you."

Next.

"Detective, we need your signature on these reqs if we're going to get this guy transf—"

Skip.

"Noah, I know it's late and I saw the story about the quadruple homicide on the news. Call me when you get in, okay? I'll be up."

Puck clunked the phone back into the cradle and closed his eyes, rubbing them as arched his back, forcing the bones to crack and give him some relief. Rachel. Gotta call Rachel.

Puck picked up the phone again and had keyed in the first few numbers when he heard his name. Looking up, he saw that the surly receptionist, Gladys, was glaring at him.

"Puckerman! Your lady friend is in the lobby waiting on you. And she has food!"

"Thanks, G!" Puck stood up, a smile on his face for the first time since before spying the brains splattered all over the side of the white-painted brick building, and trotted toward the lobby. Pushing the code into the secure door, he popped it open and leaned his head out, scanning the large lobby of the old Chicago PD station on the west side of downtown. Finally, his eyes settled on the brunette locks of his longtime girlfriend, Rachel. She was curled into a ball, her legs tucked into the chair with her, and was fast asleep despite her noisy, near-chaotic surroundings.

He strode through the room and once he reached her, shook her shoulder. Rachel opened her eyes and focused on him, smiling brightly. Standing up, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Hi, Noah. I saw the story on the news and figured you were hungry. I brought you a sandwich."

She pointed at the bag and Puck grinned. "I fucking love you, woman." He gripped the bag in his fingers and, taking Rachel's hand, led her back through the door and into the heart of the station. Rachel greeted his co-workers with soft hellos as he guided her back into his office. Once they were there, he tossed the bag onto his desk and pulled her against him.

"Why are you here, really? It's freezing out and the roads aren't that great and I know that it's not just because of a sandwich."

Puck's partner, John Simpson, popped his head into the office. He tipped an imaginary hat at Rachel and then said, "Puckerman, we got a conference call with the coroner's office in 20 minutes. They dug the slugs outta our victims."

"Sure thing," Puck acknowledged before sliding his attention back to the woman curled in his arms.

Rachel relaxed in his embrace, leaning her head on his vest-covered chest for a moment and silently inhaling his scent. Pulling back, she looked at him. "Well, when you didn't get home on time, I turned on the news and I saw the coverage about the homicide and then saw that there was a car chase and then a foot chase and…I got worried. I know you tell me not to worry but sometimes, I just can't help it. I attempt to be supportive of your job but I love you, Noah, and I worry."

Puck watched Rachel's mouth move as she spoke, although he could no longer hear the words. He saw her pink tongue dart out, whetting her soft lips quickly before she smiled at him and took a big breath, starting another sentence.

Shit, he needed her. It had been one long fucking, stressful day. And the one thing that always made it better? Rachel.

He needed her.

Right then. Not later, once he'd gotten home and changed and showered and washed the grit of the day off his body and was starting to unwind but right that fucking second. Glancing around, he calculated the best place. Evidence room? Nope. Too much that could be fucked up. Interrogation room? Fuck, cameras! Bathroom? Hell no, that's a fuckin' cliché in this damn station. Hmmm….

Rachel was still talking when Puck gripped her diminutive hand in his large one and tugged her along behind him.

"Noah? What are we doing? Where are we going?"

Puck ignored her, cinched her hand in his even tighter and veered to the left, pulling Rachel down a bright hallway. When they stopped at the door at the end, Puck fished his keys from his pocket, jamming them into the lock one-handed. When he heard the tumbler click, he pushed the door open and shoved Rachel inside the pitch-black room on the other side.

In the dark, Rachel could smell the oil and gasoline that signaled their arrival in the station's repair garage. She heard Puck switch the lock back into place behind her and then, in the total darkness of the large, cold room, she felt his hands go around her waist and haul her against him.

"Babe, you don't know how bad I needed to see you tonight. I can't leave until I get all this paperwork filed and that goddamn conference call done but…shit… You always seem to know when I need your ass, don't you?"

Although Rachel could barely make out his features, she could feel his hot breath on her face. She gripped the back of his head tightly and pulled him too her, kissing him quickly. Puck grunted, his hands gripping Rachel's ass and pulling her up and onto his body. She wrapped her legs around her waist and he turned them, shoving her against the cold cement wall.

"Noah! What's gotten into you? This is—" Rachel's words were cut off when Puck's lips seared across her chin, traveling up to suck on her lower lip. Keening low in her throat, her fingers gripped his shoulders as she rubbed her body against him. Her fingers itched to find a way through his vest, his button-down, and his undershirt to drag their way across the tanned, toned skin that she knew waited underneath. Rachel tugged on his vest, jerking against the fasteners, and Puck swatted her hands away.

"No time, babe," he murmured against her lips.

Gripping her against him, he turned them again and walked them through the darkened room until his foot made contact with his goal: the wheel of the patrol car sitting in the middle of the garage.

Puck dropped Rachel, her flats hitting heavily against the concrete floor and echoing off the barren walls. Spinning her around, Puck pressed Rachel against the side of the car, the cold metal assaulting her flesh even through her shirt. Her hands slid up behind her and gripped his scalp as he dropped hot, open-mouthed kisses against her neck. His fingers traveled across her hips and stomach before he shoved her shirt up and pushed her bra down in one quick motion.

Rachel arched against him, her head falling back against his shoulder. The garage was freezing and they could be caught at any moment but she loved, loved this Noah. Fierce. Virile. Animalistic. And all hers.

"Noah," she keened quietly as his fingers roughly stroked her nipples, his lips continuing to explore her neck and shoulders. She wanted to kiss his lips. She began to turn but he stopped her.

"Nope, babe…we've got about fifteen minutes before I have to make that fucking phone call. No time."

Puck's hand left Rachel's waist and slid up her back, settling between her shoulder blades. He pushed her forward, bending her over the side of the car until her exposed breasts made contact with the chilly metal of the hood. Rachel cried out and Puck shushed her, a low laugh escaping his throat as his hands kneaded and then swatted at her ass before his long fingers curled around the edge of her pants, pushing them and her panties down in one fluid motion. He nudged her legs with his fingers in the dark, indicating she should step out of them. Once she had, he picked them up and deposited on the hood of the car next to her. Then he was pressed against her, his hands sliding between her thighs, gripping the muscles of her thin legs to guide them apart.

A tremble careened through her body when she heard the distinct zip of his fly in the empty room.

Her eyes searched for something to focus on but the near-blackness of the room left her staring ahead, eyes wide and unseeing, as the blunt head of his cock suddenly dragged down her slit.

"You're soaked, baby," he breathed against her ear before flicking his tongue out to trace along the shell, eliciting a shudder from his very wet, very aroused girlfriend.

Rachel nodded in the dark, her body pushing back against him. Puck laughed again, stroked himself against her one more time, and then pushed inside her wet channel. They both groaned as he filled her but Puck wasted no time. Hands on Rachel's hips, he jerked her back against him and proceeded to fuck her.

Rachel's breath caught in her throat as he quickly ratcheted his hips, rotating them to spread her open even more for him. "God, Noah…" Rachel pushed herself up on her hands, pressing her back against his upper body as his cock continued to slam into her repeatedly. The rough material of his bulletproof vest rubbed against the exposed skin of her back over and over again as her hips took the brunt of his brutal thrusts and she knew that later, she'd have a red welt there. But when Puck pushed her body back down, her breasts squished against the cold metal again so that he could fuck her harder, she didn't care. His fingers curled into the crease of Rachel's thighs, angling her up to receive his punishing thrusts and he felt himself start to go weak. Sliding his hand against the cold metal, he slid them until they made contact with Rachel's breasts. She arched into his hand and his fingers roughly yanked at her nipples.

Rachel moaned loudly and Puck knew, from the sounds low in her throat, that she was close. He was about to fucking lose it and he knew that he had maybe five minutes left before they'd be hunting his ass down to get him on that fucking conference call.

Grunting, Puck twisted Rachel's nipple in his fingers hard while the other pushed between the damp curls between her thighs and settled next to her clit, where he pressed hard. He felt Rachel ripple around him and her body trembled.

Shit. So goddamn close.

"C'mon, Rach…c'mon baby…that's it…Oh Christ, that's it, baby," he encouraged in her ear.

Rachel cried out gutturally, her voice full of unintelligible sounds because all she needed was that one last push before she flew over the edge.

"Fuck, Rachel…I wanna feel you…C'mon baby," he prodded. Letting go of her nipple, Puck's hand quickly found its way to her hair and he slid his fingers into it, gripping the scalp. Forcefully, he pulled her head up, bringing her whole body nearly upright and changing the angle of his thrusts. He turned her head to the side, his lips finding hers in the blackness, and kissed her ferociously, his tongue dualing with hers. Rachel grunted in a not-at-all ladylike manner as her pussy undulated around him. Puck groaned into her mouth, emptying inside her just seconds after her own orgasm assailed her body. Even as she panted and wilted against him, his long finger rubbed her clit and she groaned as another orgasm ripped through her body, clutching his cock as it continued to throb and soften inside her.

Rachel collapsed against the cold metal of the car, laying her skin against it to leach out some of the heat from her body. Puck's hands pressed against her hips as he slowly pulled himself out and seconds later, Rachel heard his zipper slide back into place.

"Goddamn," he breathed, leaning over her body. His hands felt in the dark until his fingers brushed against her pants. He grabbed them, snagging her panties and shoving them in his pockets, and then pushed her pants into her hands.

Rachel felt around for a moment and then said, "My panties aren't here, Noah."

She heard him chuckle in the darkness. "I know, babe…I've got 'em."

"Noah! Give them back to me!"

Puck laughed again and pushed them deeper into his pocket.

"Sorry, babe…they're mine. I'll bring them home when I come." He swatted her bare ass in the dark. "Now get dressed. I have a call I gotta make."

Rachel slipped her pants back on in the dark, muttering under her breath about his lack of concern for sending her out pantiless in the freezing Chicago weather. When she was dressed, Puck felt for her in the darkness, pushing his body against hers as he captured her lips in a gentle kiss that was unlike the quick, impulsive coupling that they'd just finished.

"I'll walk you out, baby. And thanks…I needed that."

Together, they felt their way back to the door and Puck spun the lock, opening it and exposing them to the artificial light of the hallway once again. Puck locked the door behind him and then snickered at Rachel's brown locks, now askew and tangled. His fingers combed and smoothed through her hair because he knew she'd come back into the station and kill him if discovered that he'd sent her out into the public looking thoroughly used.

He walked her to the side entrance and quickly kissed her. "Love you, baby. I swear I'll be home by 1am. Get a nap in because I plan on tearing you up tonight."

Rachel giggled, a thrill settling low in her belly at what she knew was to come. Kissing him softly, she whispered, "I hope so because I'm counting on it." She blew him a kiss as she stepped out into the cold night air, bundling her coat tightly against her body. Puck watched her until she was safely in her car before closing the door and heading back into his office.

"'Bout fuckin' time, Puckerman. We gotta make this call!"

Puck glared at Simpson and reached into his pocket to pull out his mobile phone. As he did, Rachel's pink thong dropped onto his desk. Although he didn't look up, he heard Simpson sputter from across the room.

"Holy shit, Puckerman. You and that girl of yours," Simpson muttered, shaking his head. "I think you have more sex than anybody I know."

Puck glanced up, smirked at his partner before hitting the button on the speakerphone and blasting the dial into the small room. Pulling the sandwich Rachel brought him out of the bag, he pulled back the wrapper and took a huge bite before turning toward Simpson. "Whatever, asshole. Let's make this fucking call because I need to get home."