Established Puckleberry oneshot based on a TFLN prompt suggested to me by CajunTiger504.

(206): You said that we had to leave the party together and proceeded to repeat the "ducks fly together" speech from The Mighty Ducks word for word. Soon the whole party was quiet and started chanting quack..quack...quack..

Rated M just to be safe. Puck's mouth is filthier than a $2 whore and it's a Puckleberry fic so there's (mild) sex references.

For Aussietasha. Thanks for scouring the internet looking for Bombay's speech...twice...

Rachel pushed through the side gate leading to Santana's backyard, her nose immediately crinkling in disgust when a drunken jock stumbled across her path. He paused and looked her up and down suggestively, the beer sloshing over the top of the red plastic cup he was holding and splashing across her arm.

"How you doing?" He drawled as he leaned in close to her face, the alcohol on his breath making her stomach turn. Rachel closed her eyes and pushed him away, silently counting to 10 in an effort to control her rising annoyance and not give into the lecture that was lingering on the tip of her tongue on the dangers of binge drinking, and the studies that had linked it to brain cell degeneration and certain types of cancer. She resisted the urge though, because her fellow Glee club members had never been shy in telling her that people rarely listened to her rants, and those outside of their little dysfunctional group had even less patience for her tendency to talk at speeds usually only reserved for Nascar circuits.

"Fuck off Stevens," a familiar voice ordered and Rachel opened her eyes to see the towering form of Finn Hudson stepping between her and the wasted junior with the specks of vomit staining his letterman jacket.

When the other boy had meandered away, Finn looked down at her with undisguised relief, "Geez Rach, I was beginning to think you were never going to get here! I called you like an hour ago!"

He took her arm and led her into the backyard where Santana's annual 'It's my fucking birthday so bring a keg and lets get fucking shit-faced' extravaganza was in full swing (those were the exact words she used by the way, when extending the invitation to those at McKinley she deemed popular enough to attend). Surprisingly, this year she had extended an invitation to each and every member of New Directions, all of whom had attended with the exception of Rachel who had never really adjusted to the high school party scene, despite having been the girlfriend of Noah Puckerman - McKinley's most notorious party animal - for going on four months now.

"Well I'm sorry Finn," Rachel said crossly as they weaved in between throngs of their drunken peers, "but I couldn't just drop everything the second you called. Don't you know what today is?"

Finn stopped and looked down at her, a look of confusion on his face that she would have considered, once upon a time, to be the most adorable expression she'd ever seen. It was still endearing, she supposed, but it didn't have the same disarming effect on her that it used to.

"No," he replied in confusion. "What's so special about today? I mean, apart from it being Santana's birthday?"

Rachel huffed, rolling her eyes in exasperation, "Not only is today Santana's birthday, but it's also the day where we celebrate the birth of one Barbara Joan Streisand – Broadway legend, singer-songwriter superstar and critically acclaimed, award winning actress. I was in the middle of TCM's marathon tribute to Barbara when you called, and I know you didn't expect me to leave in the middle of Funny Girl without having watched her perform Don't Rain on My Parade like no other performer since has been able to perfect." The petite brunette narrowed her eyes at him, "Did you?" she questioned challengingly. Some people's appreciation of true musical theater legends was nothing short of appalling.

Finn gulped nervously; Rachel was downright scary when her eyes got all small and squinty like that.

"Of course not," he stammered, "It's just that Puck's been drunk for hours," he explained, his voice regaining some of its evenness when he remembered the reason behind his desperation for Rachel to arrive and fix things. "He and Mike tapped the first keg as soon as they got here and finished the whole thing between them in under fifteen minutes. No one's been able to control him – he started off by claiming he could fly and gave Kurt a black eye when he tried to stop him from jumping off the second story roof."

Rachel gaped and Finn nodded gravely.

She pressed her fingers to her temples wearily, "What else?" she asked in resignation. Knowing her boyfriend as she did, the story Finn had just shared was likely to be only the tip of the iceberg when it came to Puck's drunken antics that night.

She wasn't wrong.

Finn launched into the next tale with far more enthusiasm than Rachel thought was strictly appropriate. "Later, he made Brittany cry when he convinced her to let him face paint her with pudding and then, somehow in the confusion, he managed to shave her eyebrows clear off."

She blinked rapidly as she tried to wrap her head around that, "He shaved her eyebrows? How did he even-"

"And that's not even the worst of it," Finn interrupted and she sighed inaudibly, wondering if she even wanted to hear the rest. "Some girls were complaining inside that they were cold, so Puck-"

At the first mention of 'other girls', Rachel tensed and tuned out his rambling as she glowered. She knew those 'complaints' were more than likely just the elaborate ploys of some of the skankier girls at McKinley to get up close and personal with her boyfriend, and Rachel did not appreciate their scheming. She was getting sick of them hitting on Noah at every opportunity, when she was not in the immediate vicinity. She couldn't be with him every second of the day; she was a busy, independent woman - she didn't want to be the kind of girlfriend that was glued to his side 24/7. But if his cuddles were being wasted on other, less deserving members of the female population, then she would sacrifice her freedom – those hugs were hers, damn it.

"So," Finn was continuing and Rachel had to blink and focus her attention back to him. "He dragged in a garbage can from the backyard and started a fire in the living room, using Santana's parents' wedding album as kindling, and the legs of the chair her grandfather hand carved out of wood from some endangered South American rainforest. The curtains caught fire and half the wall went up in flames. It was only Artie's quick thinking and Sam's epic fire extinguisher skills that stopped the fire from spreading right through the first floor."

Rachel just stared at Finn, "He did not," she managed to respond in disbelief with a shake of her head, as if she couldn't believe that Puck would engage in anything so irresponsible and juvenile, even thought the guy's middle name was Trouble and he had managed to burn down his mother's kitchen when he was just five years old – he'd always been something of a pyromaniac.

At that moment, just as Rachel was again about to come to the defense of her lovely boyfriend whose very character was under attack, they heard a familiar baritone crooning from about fifteen feet away. They both looked up to see Puck holding court on the top step of the gazebo that sat in the middle of the backyard, peeling off his shirt and flaunting his impressively chiselled physique to everyone within view.

'It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes,' he sang seductively, causing the gaggle of girls congregating at the bottom of the steps – mostly freshman & sophomore's with and a few stray juniors in the mix - to positively swoon in front of him. Rachel's hands balled into fists as she glared at the scene before her, and, when his hips gyrated sensually and his hands fell to his belt buckle, a collective moan sounded from his ardent appreciation society and Rachel had seen enough.

"Noah Elijah Puckerman!" she screeched, storming towards him and pushing through the throng of harlots vying for his attention, hip checking them and scratching viciously at one who dared to try and shove her back.

Puck's head shot up, but rather than the look of panic she expected to see on his face, he greeted her with an expression of undisguised delight. "Hey baby!" he waved happily, stretching his hand out and pulling her up the steps towards him when she took it. "You're here!" he exclaimed wondrously, his lips automatically searching for hers.

She placed her palms on his chest as his arms came around her and pushed lightly so she could look up at him, noting the rosiness of his cheeks and the glassiness of his eyes. "You're drunk," she stated needlessly.

"You're sexy," he countered, leaning forward and kissing her nose, sucking lightly on the tip.

Rachel swatted him away, unable to keep the grin of satisfaction from breaking out over her face when his lips trailed over her chin and he paused to nuzzle into the hollow of her throat. The crowd of adoring females quickly disbanded now that the resident sex god's attention was diverted by the girlfriend that had kept him off the market and on the monogamous band wagon for almost half the year - much to their disappointment and in spite of some of their more determined efforts to get him to stray.

"Noah, stop." She demanded with a giggle when his hands ventured under her tank top to stroke her stomach. He huffed when she grabbed his hands to halt his wandering digits, and actually licked her cheek. She grimaced and pushed his face away just as Finn climbed the steps of the gazebo and came to stand beside them.

"Hey, look who it is," the quarterback pointed at Rachel in mock surprise, like he hadn't been begging hysterically down the phone line for her to show up only an hour ago. "Rach! What are you doing here?"

"I've come to give Noah a ride home," Rachel replied with an exaggerated wink in Finn's direction, letting him know she was on board with his subterfuge. "I'm parked right out front, would you kindly assist me in helping Noah to the car please Finn?"

Finn nodded and Puck frowned. "Nuh-uh," he shook his head rapidly, stepping back from the two of them and holding out his hands as if to ward them off, all the while giving them looks of distrust and suspicion.

Rachel looked at him curiously, his sudden defensive stance taking her by surprise. She reached out and caressed his bicep soothingly as Finn made a move to his other side, intending to take his elbow and lead him out the side gate that Rachel had entered through earlier.

"C'mon dude, it's past your bed time." Finn said easily. "You've had an eventful evening, you really should call it a night."

"M'not going anywhere," Puck retorted stubbornly, wrenching his arm from Finn's grip and curling his arm around Rachel's waist to drag her back to his side. "Can't go anyway if I can't see you," he sing-songed childishly as he buried his face in her hair, much like an ostrich would bury its head in the sand.

She sighed and rolled her eyes at Finn. She shifted away slightly and stood on her tip toes so she could see him better, "Noah, come home with me," she cajoled, looking up at him from beneath lowered eyelashes, her fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt. "Please. My fathers are away for the weekend and it's been weeks since we had any real time alone, and the opportunity to engage in anything more than a frenzied grope in the cab of your truck." Her tongue swiped along her lower lip and she watched as his gaze followed its progress as she bit her lip in that maddening way that made his breath catch and his pupils dilate.

He shook his head rapidly as if he was clearing his thoughts and scowled at her, wordlessly reprimanding her for attempting to use her feminine wiles against him. "No."

Rachel immediately dropped the temptress expression that she had adopted - and never quite managed to perfect - and crossed her arms, a motion that pushed her boobs up and created some alluring cleavage that was difficult for him to drag his gaze away from. She stomped her foot, the rubber of her flip flops slapping hard against the wood of the gazebo floor. "Why, Noah?" she demanded irritably, longing to return home to Barbara and the low-fat, dairy free ice cream she'd been treating herself too. "It's late; half of your Neanderthal friends have passed out in their own bile already and the other half are defecating in the pool and betting a years worth of allowance on whose excrement will sink to the bottom the fastest."

She glared when he and Finn both started spluttering with laughter. "Fucking gold, I gotta see that shit." Puck went to pull away and she dug her nails into his arm, narrowing her dark eyes at him when he paused to look back at her.

"I've been up since 6am," she told him after a moment, her tone deceptively calm. "I attended 3 hours of dance classes this morning, had a double vocal lesson this afternoon, and babysat your demon spawn sister until your mother came home so you could attend this, this-" she struggled to find the appropriate word to describe the gathering. Her gaze settled on a couple dry humping on the grass nearby and she screwed her nose up with distaste, "this mating ritual!" she exclaimed exasperatedly. "And while we're on the subject, your sister, I don't mind saying, is in dire need of some behavioural boundaries-"

"Hey!" he objected clumsily with a frown, "Becca knows boundaries,"

She levelled him with a superior stare, "She ate my chemistry homework, Noah."

"She's just a kid-"

"She's twelve," Rachel reminded him. "Old enough to know that paper is not an adequate, or indeed a tasty, source of nutrition." She waved her hand, "The point is that I'm exhausted. I'm going home with or without you, and if you chose not to accompany me, I guarantee you it will be another month before the opportunity to ogle me sans clothing will be afforded to you."

His eyebrow furrowed, "Huh?"

"Sex, Noah," she spelled it out for him. "I won't be having sex with you until Homecoming. Do you really want to impose a period of needless celibacy upon yourself?"

He regarded her shrewdly, "No, but how celibate are we talking here? Are you gonna blow me? What about hand jobs?" he questioned hopefully.

She shook her head and he pouted, "Well, shit," he dropped his chin and shuffled his feet. He studied his shoes, struggling to remember why he was so reluctant to leave the party and it was so important that he stay and risk blue balls, when he could go home with his girlfriend and get guaranteed, parental interruption-free panty visitation time.

"Baby," Puck's head lifted and his face screwed up in concentration as he tried vainly to find a solid line of reasoning he was sure she couldn't refute. "We can't just jet and leave everyone here," he told her slowly, stalling.

Rachel crossed her arms, "Who is 'everyone'?" she demanded. What little patience she had for his drunken ramblings was waning fast.

He made a general gesture, "Everyone," he repeated, "you know."

"I don't,"

He huffed adorably, his eyes roaming around the yard. In his intoxicated state he was unable to focus on one particular thing. "The Gleeks, babe. The gang,"

"The gang?" her lips quirked involuntarily and she uncrossed her arms, reaching out to thread her fingers through the belt loop on his jeans and steady him when he swayed dangerously on the spot. She had always found it difficult to remain cross at him when he pouted and thrust his full lower lip out like he was doing right at that very moment.

He bobbed his head rapidly, "Yeah, the gang - Santana, Brit, Quinn and that new blonde douche-"

"Sam," Rachel supplied with a reluctant smile, finding it amusing that Puck still refused to call their new member anything other than 'douchebag', 'pansy' or his personal favorite 'Blonde Beiber Barbie'. While Puck and Sam had immediately hit it off when they'd first met, bonding over their mutual love of guitar and the movie Avatar, after Puck had bullshitted his way out of Juvie with that cock and bull story about helping cripples, Quinn and Sam had just gone public with their new romance. The jock's friendship had gone to shit from that point on, with Puck unable to forgive Sam for moving in on his baby momma when Puck hadn't been sure he was done with her yet. He certainly hadn't been over her, and didn't reach point until he found himself with a pint sized diva attached to his person, commanding his attention with her big words, tight body and doe-like bambi eyes.

Rachel had initially worried about his continual dislike of Sam, wondering if it was a sign that his lingering feelings for Quinn were going to cause problems in the relationship they had unexpectedly fallen into with each other in the wake of her split with Finn, but every time she cornered him to voice her concerns, Puck would tell her on no uncertain terms that she was 'fucking loco' and that dealing with her particular brand of crazy was the most fun he'd had in his entire life – and in any case, there was no way he was going to trade her in for Quinn or any other chick when Rachel had finally let him pop her cherry and there was some hot Jew on Jew action to be had.

"Wheels, Aretha," Puck was listing on his fingers, as if he'd never been interrupted, "Beyonce and his boyfiend,"

"Blaine," Rachel interjected.

"That gothic Asian chic-"

She arched her brow; she had to wonder if he'd ever taken the time to remember the names of the original members of New Direction. Somehow she didn't think so.

"Hudson," he continued, pointing at Finn who had lost interest in their conversation and had moved away to talk to a guy from the hockey team, "Rutherford – still, even though he abandoned us for a private school in motherfucking Illinois. The Changster-"

"Present!" Mike, who had been lying across a wooden bench in the gazebo in a some type of tequila-induced coma with an empty ice cream bucket on his head, hiccuped and raised his hand at the sound of his last name.

"The gang," Puck finished with a shrug of his shoulders, downing the contents of his cup in one gulp.

"Ri-ight," Rachel drawled, confused. "And why is it again that we cannot leave without them?" She questioned, trying to pinpoint his reckoning so she could counter with a list of reasons that detailed exactly why his argument was invalid.

"Because we're a team," he enounced slowly, as if she were a very dull child. He had a theory developing. "All for one and one for all-" he scratched his head, "or something," he finished lamely. "We gotta have each others backs, Rach. Shit could go down tonight and what would happen if we're not here to back 'em up?"

She sighed, "Your loyalty to the group is admirable, Noah. But I don't anticipate that there will be any 'shit' going down tonight." She made quotation marks with her fingers and looked around the backyard. There were people everywhere, yes, but most of them were too drunk to remember their own names, much less have any control over their faculties so they could start the aforementioned trouble Puck was so concerned about.

"You ever seen the Mighty Ducks movies, babe?" Puck queried curiously.

"The Mighty Ducks?" she was getting tired of repeating everything he was saying and was having trouble keeping up with his ever-changing thought patterns. She reflected privately that this was probably how she made people feel every single day; her mind was a constant whirlpool of activity and it must be maddening for those with a considerably lower IQ to try to keep up with her.

"With Emilio Estevez," Puck prompted, "You know, 'We are the champions, my friends,'" he sang the line of that Queen song that every teenage boy in America knew the lyrics to. "They're fucking classic; you had to have watched them when you were younger."

"I'm afraid I haven't," and she didn't look too torn up over the revelation that there was a great big gaping hole in her DVD library where a trilogy of movies about a less-than-stellar pee wee hockey league should have been.

Puck gaped. How could she not have seen them? He wondered, completely floored. It was enough for him to question their entire relationship. The movies starred that kid who had gone on to land the role of sidekick on that TV show about a creek and a whiny little bastard who couldn't man up and tell the girl he'd been friends with for-fucking-ever that he wanted to bone her. Luckily, the sidekick (the one from the epic Mighty Duck movies, Pacey or whatever), swiped the girl from the whiny bastard and eventually put a lock on that shit. Dude was a total badass; he even fucked his teacher (who was a grade-A cougar by the way) in the first season. Puck felt that they were kindred spirits; they could totally be bros.

"You'd like it," he told her confidently, already planning a movie marathon of the DVD's to show his girlfriend exactly what she had been missing out on. "S'got all that team unity shit Schue is always flapping about. It's why I know we gotta stick around."

"So," Rachel pursed her lips, "we have to stay because a movie about a bunch of ducks told you we had too?" she clarified with a small shake of her head.

He didn't bother expanding on the story line so she knew it wasn't about ducks so much as a team of kids that called themselves ducks. Instead, he nodded vigorously and grinned when he saw her resolve wavering.

"Well Noah that seems awfully profound of you. I guess I just don't see why-" she stopped as he jumped up onto the side of the gazebo, hanging from the trellis like a spider monkey as he hollered to get the attention of everyone in the yard.

"Yo fuckers, where's my glee club at? Got something 'portant to tell yas," he slurred, taking another sip of warm beer from his plastic cup. Rachel's eyes widened and she looked to Finn for help. Her ex-boyfriend just gave a little shrug and took a few steps closer to hear whatever drunken wisdom his best friend was about to divulge.

"Oi," Puck scowled when his eyes sought out the rest of his team mates and he couldn't see anyone other than Frankenteen and a still (mostly unconscious) Mike Chang. "Gleeeeeeekkkkkkks," he shouted obnoxiously. "Gleeks, Gleeks, Gleeks," he chanted over and over until one by one, the remaining members appeared with expressions ranging from curiosity to annoyance.

Rachel felt a body slide in between her and Finn, and she looked up to see Santana smirking down at her.

"S'up Midget?" The Latina drawled affectionately. The former animosity between the two girls was nothing but a distant memory ever since Santana had started dating Finn a few weeks after Rachel had broken up with him. They had quickly formed a close friendship seeing as how their boyfriends spent so much time together ignoring their respective girls while they played video games, and found that, social standings aside, they had a great deal in common.

"Happy Birthday San," Rachel smiled, giving her a quick hug. "I understand that Noah owes you a thousand apologies tomorrow when he sobers up. Rest assured I will see to it that he compensates you appropriately for any damage he has caused tonight."

Santana linked her arm through Rachel's and just shook her head derisively, "Your boyfriend is an idiot," she told her without preamble. "I don't know how you think he can compensate my parents for setting fire to the only photographs they have from their wedding, or replace the one of a kind, hand carved chair my grandfather whittled from South American wood before he died, but whatever. He'll clean our pool for free for life or something."

Her dark eyes shifted to Puck and she snorted, "What's the fuckwit doing anyway?" she wanted to know, laughing as Puck lost his balance and scrambled to clutch the side of the gazebo before he fell off.

"I have no idea," Rachel admitted ruefully, trying not to smile at the sheepish grin Puck sent her when his hazel gaze sought hers out, to make sure she was still close.

"What's up, Puck?" Artie called out, wheeling closer with Brittany curled up on his lap. Rachel stared at the blonde girl when her face came into view. Her eyebrows were indeed missing – it was a disconcerting sight.

"Yo, so I've had a reva-," Puck paused, "a reva-" he tried again, stumbling over the word.

"A revelation?" Rachel supplied helpfully.

"Thanks baby," Puck beamed at her and blew her a kiss. "I've had a revelation," he repeated.

"Oh yeah?" Santana arched her brow and leant into Finn's side. "Do share, Puckerman."

"We, in the Glee club," he began importantly. "are like a bunch of ducks."

There was a loud guffaw from the crowd and then Azimio yelled out, "I think the animal you were looking to say Puckerman, is chicken. You're a punch of pansy-ass chickens."

Sam booed Azimio and Puck pointed angrily at the beefed up African American, "Shut your fucking pie hole Azimio, don't make me beat your sorry ass," he threatened.

Azimio rolled his eyes but stayed silent, propping his foot up on top of a keg as he waited for Puck to go on.

"Anyway," Puck said, still glaring at his football team mate, "we're like those kids in the Mighty Duck movies. Individually, we're nothing special. We can sing a bit, dance a bit – but together…." he paused, "together," he repeated with a sparkle in his eye that few had ever seen. "We create fucking magic. Music dudes, we create fucking musical magic!"

Again, a collective guffaw of laughter spread around the yard, but the Gleeks weren't laughing. They were smiling indulgently at Puck and exchanging grins. They were a team, a family. They had grown as a group, individually and collectively, and their bond was something all of them had learned not to take for granted.

They had learned to appreciate each others talent and the individual gifts they brought to the club. They had discovered that they could rely on each other and that, when it seemed like the whole world was busting your balls, there were always 11 other people around to shuck you on the chin, let you sing out your frustrations and remind you that tomorrow was a new day.

Puck was one of the last ones to have learned that lesson, but after his alcoholic dad had returned to Lima and Puck had taken to dealing with his father's reappearance in his life by returning to his bad boy pre-Juvie ways, Rachel's determination to have him not flush all his progress down the toilet and the relationship he had found with the diminutive brunette in the midst of his personal crisis, saw Puck do a complete emotional 180 and accept the love and support his friends were offering. They were all proud of him for finally seeing the light.

"What we have is special," he told them emotionally, and if it was anyone other than Noah 'badass' Puckerman standing up there, the crowd was sure they were about to witness a dude turn on the waterworks. "We're a fucking team, we look out for each other, we don't let anyone else on the outside fuck another one of us over."

Rachel felt a warmth spread through her as Puck glanced at her and winked, and she knew he was thinking about the time Jesse had egged her in the parking lot, and the revenge Puck had sought – and not told her about until after they had started dating again. Though she was touched he had taken it upon himself to defend her honor, she had been relieved to note Jesse's testicle removal surgery had been a success.

"Ducks fly together, dudes," Puck told them earnestly, looking at each of his team mates in turn. "We're Gleeks, we come from all tiers of the popularity pyramid – Jocks, cheerleaders, AV nerds, Broadway wannabes-"

Rachel scowled until he added, "With amazing pipes and sexy-as-fuck legs," then she smiled and blew him a kiss. "And we stick together through the slushie facials and the port-a-potty torture. You know why?"

His question was met with bemused silence and Puck sighed loudly and waved his hands around, fixing Artie, Finn and Sam with significant looks.

"Oh," Sam was the first to catch on. 'Because we are ducks and ducks fly together?"

Puck clapped his hands together triumphantly. "You got it, ducks fly together! And just when you think they're going break apart…"

"Ducks fly together!" Finn, Sam and Artie shouted at the same time.

"Yeah!" Puck punched his fist in the air as Santana groaned and leaned her head against Rachel's shoulder in second hand embarrassment.

"And when the wind blows hard and the sky is black…" he continued nonsensically.

"Ducks fly together," Mercedes, Tina and Quinn joined Artie, Sam and Finn in the refrain, laughing. Even Kurt, who was holding a steak gingerly against his swollen eye, was smiling. Brittany just looked lost and Mike was still in his alcohol fuelled unconsciousness.

Finn was bobbing his head enthusiastically, a grin spreading across his face. "And," he took up, when the chorus of voices had faded. "When the roosters are crowing and the cows are spinning circles in the paddocks-"

There was an awkward silence until Puck grinned back and nodded. "Duck's fly together," he shouted before sobering. "And when everyone says it can't be done," he said seriously, holding their gazes. "Ducks fly together."

It was silent for a full minute and Rachel's own gaze travelled over the faces in the crowd to see what they had made of Puck's little speech, fearful that Azimio would be looking to engage in a little physical violence after Puck had so publicly voiced his affection for the Glee Club. The footballers had stopped picking fights with the Glee clubbers on their team a while back, and seemed to have reached an agreement where they would let them participate in show choir and voice no further objections to their involvement, as long as they kept it on the down low. They didn't like the more popular of the Glee members to advocate an extra curricular activity they deemed so geeky.

The crowd – and Azimio - didn't know what to make of Puck's display though, and seemed stunned into confusion until Sam started pumping his fist in the air and chanting quietly, "Quack, quack, quack, quack…"

Pretty soon the rest of the glee club joined in, accompanied by the entire crowd of people scattered throughout the backyard.

"Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack…."

Puck looked so proud of himself, he could burst with happiness and Rachel shook her head affectionately. His hand waved back and forth in the air as he conducted the chanting and in his drunken state, the effort to coordinate his movements proved too difficult.

"Fuuuuucckkkk!" the chanting stopped as Puck yelped and fell off his perch, toppling into the rose bushes planted in front of the rail where he had been crouched.

"Noah!" Rachel scurried down the steps and hurried over to where Sam and Finn were helping Puck out of the garden bed.

"S'ok, it's all good," Puck mumbled as the crowd laughed and disbursed. Rachel brushed the bark from his shirt and looked up at his face to ensure he was ok. "Think I'm done here, babe. These fuckers can fend for 'emselves." He determined tiredly, leaning into her. "Home time?"

She smiled and kissed his cheek, "Home time," she agreed, steering a now compliant Puck towards the gate. "Say goodnight to the Ducks, Noah."

"Goodnight Ducks," he parroted as he was lead away, oblivious to Santana who was making a whipped motion at his retreating back with the accompanied sound effect of a whip cracking. "Hey baby," he was heard saying as he and Rachel disappeared from view. "Can you stop at Blockbuster on the way back to your place?"

"Why?" Rachel asked indulgently as the sound of their voices faded. "Did you want to rent the Mighty Ducks?"

The last thing anyone heard was Puck saying in amazement, "Yeah, how did you know? Man, you ARE psychic."

~fin~