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iBecome a Badass

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Nationals are in Seattle this year and Puck wishes he was less excited. It would mean he isn't a complete pussy. But he is. He can't help it. Being in the same city as his favorite web show will be awesome.

He only started watching it because his little sister begged him to. She's hard to say no to, especially because if he does, she just tells their mom he was picking on her. The deviousness is how he knows they're definitely related.

It only took watching one episode, but he was hooked. It probably helped that he'd been drinking at the time, but the show was fucking awesome. It's random, ridiculous, hilarious and has two hot chicks hosting it.

And so now, over a year later, Puck tries to fight his excitement about possibly running into the team of iCarly.

They win Nationals. It's almost unreal. Puck knows they deserve to win, but that isn't always how it turns out.

He's grinning like an idiot, hugging everyone as Finn lofts the trophy in the air in triumph. Standing their surrounded by his fellow gleeks, he realizes Rachel is right; being part of something special makes you special.

He's still Puck though and so he, Santana and Mike are able to get a hold of copious amounts of liquor. They celebrate in the girls' shared rooms because the boys' is disgusting according to Quinn and Mercedes. Kurt grumbles his agreement.

Knowing what they're about to do, Mr. Schue just asks them to keep quiet and stay in their room. Feeling just as jubilant as they are, he can't fault them for wanting to celebrate. He joins them for a little bit, but can't watch them drink without feeling like he should say something and eventually excuses himself.

Drunk, Puck looks around the room. He's hoping to catch a glimpse of Lopez and Berry making out. When they're drinking, they're more likely not to care if they have an audience.

It threw everyone when the two started dating and the amazement grew as the relationship lasted week after week. And now six months later, they're still together.

Puck doesn't question it. He figures it's the skirts. Berry's indecently short ones and the Cheerios uniform are enough to convert any girl, in his mind. Glancing over a Quinn, who's nursing her wine cooler, he amends that, almost any girl.

He can't find them anywhere in the room and figures they snuck off somewhere to mess around. He lets the image float through his brain as a smirk spreads across his face.

"This is all your fault," Freddie spats at Sam.

"Hey, I’m not the one that started it," Sam counters. "That was you Fredifer."

"Doing what you should have been doing."

"I defend my girl just fine," Sam snaps back.

"Oh yeah? Then what the hell happened earlier?"

"You were there," Sam replies. "You should know."

"Guys, please," Carly interrupts.

"Sorry," they chorus.

Carly Shay never thought she'd be sitting in a holding cell. She's been here before, of course, visiting Sam. But to actually be in a cell; she's barely holding it together and Sam and Freddie's fighting isn't helping.

"You've got a decent right hook," Sam tells Freddie.

"Uh, thanks."

"You've also got more juevos than I ever gave you credit for."

"Again. Thanks."

"Too bad you've got a glass jaw."

"Yeah well, not all of us get into fights on a weekly basis."

"Too bad," Sam replies. "You're missing some good times."

Freddie shakes his head, glad that his mother is out of town and he's staying with Carly and Spencer. He's still in awe that his mother allowed it. He knows it's only because it was an emergency; his grandmother breaking her hip, while unfortunate for her, was very lucky for Freddie. Still, he's grateful at the moment because it means his mom won't be picking him up in jail.

"I wonder if we missed dinner," Sam mutters.

"How can you think about food at a time like this?" Freddie asks.

Sam just shoots him a look.

"How much longer are they going to keep us here?" Carly asks.

"Don't worry about it, Cupcake," Sam replies. "I'll protect you. And after that, they'll have to get through Fredwad here."

Freddie looks around the holding cell. Thankfully, they're alone at the moment.

"This is going to go on my permanent record," Carly continues. "My life is over."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Carls," Sam tells her. "You'll be fine."

"I'll feel better after we get our phone call," Freddie announces.

Both girls nod.

The quiet truce between Sam and Freddie is broken when the door to their holding cell swings open. Carly looks up, hopeful of receiving permission to make a phone call. Instead, two teenage girls are shoved inside and the door slams shut once again.

Carly openly stares at the newcomers. One is a bit shorter than Sam with dark hair, wearing an argyle sweater and an apprehensive look while the other is about her height and looking pissed off.

The pair sit in the corner as far away from them as possible, obviously trying to pretend they're not there.

Carly sighs. It's going to be a long evening; that's for sure.

Rachel is pissed at her. It's not Santana's fault though, it's Rachel's. If her girlfriend could just run a little bit faster, they wouldn't have been caught. Santana blames it on the lack of height, but knows better to ever say that out loud.

Still, the silent treatment is getting to her. No one forced Rachel to come with. It's not Santana's fault that her badassery is a major turn on for her girlfriend and so Rachel had to come with to witness Santana's vandalism.

"This silent shit is getting old, Berry," Santana grumbles. "We could totally be making out right now."

"We are most definitely not going to be making out in a jail cell, especially since we're not alone," Rachel snaps. "I think the alcohol has killed too many brain cells."

"This whole damn thing is your fault," Santana replies. "If you would have just run a little bit faster, we'd be home free."

"I'm sorry I'm not as accustom to delinquency as you and therefore was unable to escape in the appropriate manner."

"Why hasn't the alcohol taken your vocabulary?" Santana questions.

"I'm extremely sober right now, thank you very much. Besides, you like my vocabulary."

"Yeah, when it's tell me how awesome in bed I am. Not when you're berating me. Oh god, now you've got me doing it too."

Rachel smirks.

"Excuse me," Carly says, breaking away from Sam slightly. "But do either of you know the time?"

Santana just shrugs and ignores her.

Rachel glares at her girlfriend before speaking. "It was around eight when they brought us in here," she answers. "However, I have no idea how long we've been here."

"About forty-five minutes," Freddie answers absently.

Everyone stares at him.

"What? I have a good internal clock."

"There's something to brag about," Sam quips.

"Watch it demon spawn."

"Make me Fredwina."

Freddie jumps up and looms over Sam, who just smirks up at him.

"Guys, now isn't the time."

"She started it," Freddie says.

"Sit down Freddikins."

Watching this display has gotten Santana curious.

"What are you guys here for?"

"Nothing," Carly answers quickly.

Santana raises an eyebrow. Sam just stares back.

"Come on," Santana says. "You show me yours, I'll show you mine."

"Tempting," Sam murmurs.

This earns her a smack on the arm.

"I thought violence didn't solve anything," Sam tells Carly.

"Apparently it does with you."

"Well?" Santana asks.

"Fighting," Freddie admits reluctantly.

Santana gives the trio a once over and raises her eyebrow again.

"Hey," Freddie says. "I can fight."

"Like a eight year old girl," Sam quips.

"What about you guys?" Carly says, hoping to ward off another argument.

"Vandalism," Rachel replies.

"Seriously?" Sam asks.

"Well, by association on my part," Rachel huffs.

"My girl here gets all hot and bothered by my badass side," Santana adds.

"Santana."

"What? It's true."

"That doesn't mean you have to announce it to everyone."

"No biggie," Sam says. "Mine does as well."

"Sam," Carly whispers hotly.

"Calm yourself, Cupcake," Sam replies. "Our Sapphic sisters here won't mind and Fredalini should be used to it by now."

"Sapphic?" Freddie questions. "I didn't realize you knew any multi syllable words, Puckett."

"Watch your mouth, Benson. Your defending Carls earlier won't stop me from pounding you into the pavement once we're out of here."

"You're all talk," Freddie replies. "Carly won't let you get away with that."

"That's certainly true," Carly agrees.

"So what kind of vandalism are we talking?" Sam asks Santana.

"I was feeling a bit old school," Santana answers. "So I was just spray painting a wall."

"Nice," Sam says. "You finish?"

Santana nods. "The owner of the damn building called the police and they showed up right as I was finishing up. Tried running, but the gf can't keep up. Out of shape."

"Excuse me, Santana Lopez," Rachel interrupts. "But I am in much better shape than you are. Must I remind you how much better my stamina seems to be than yours?"

"Maybe I just like it when you do all the work," Santana smirks.

Sam smirks as well.

"Erup," Freddie mumbles, fighting a blush. He glances over at Carly. She's blushing as well.

"What'd it say?" Sam asks.

"Er, um, well…"

"Tell her, San," Rachel smirks.

"New Directions FTW," Santana mumbles.

"New Directions?" Carly asks.

"We're in glee club," Rachel explains. "That's our group name. We just won Nationals. Genius here thought it'd be a good idea to celebrate by spray painting our name on a wall."

"I didn't hear you come up with anything better," Santana replies.

"Because I was content to stay where we were," Rachel tells her.

"Whatever. That was a boring ass celebration," Santana says. "Pathetic almost. I needed to get out, cause a little mayhem."

"You sound just like Noah."

"Take that back," Santana replies.

"Who's Noah?" Carly asks, not eager to watch anyone fight.

"Puck is our teammate. Thinks he as badass as I am," Santana explains. "Goes by Puck, but Rach here calls him Noah."

"It is his name."

"It's nice," Carly offers.

Santana snorts. "Idiot thinks Puck sounds more badass. Only that mohawked moron would give himself a nickname of a fairy from Shakespeare."

"We're not calling Fuckerman," Santana protests.

They've been pulled out to make their one phone call. Standing in front of a crappy looking corded phone, bolted to the wall, they argue about who will come bail them out.

"Well then who would you suggest we call, San?" Rachel asks. "Mr. Schue? That won't end well. Kurt or Mercedes? Absolutely not. Quinn? She wouldn't even consider it for a moment. Finn? I think not. Brittany? We both know that's not a good idea. "

Santana sighs. "Fine. You're right."

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that, please?" Rachel teases.

Santana growls. "I said, you're right. Call Fuckerman."

"I feel as if I should commemorate this moment," Rachel continues. "Santana Lopez actually acknowledged that I, Rachel Berry, am correct about something. Perhaps a photo or a plaque. Or maybe a small statue--"

"Call him now, Berry," Santana snaps. "I need to get the hell out of here."

Rachel smiles a little too sweetly and picks up the phone.

"Well?" Freddie says as they stand by the cheap looking phone.

"Well what?" Sam asks.

"Spencer's the only one we can call, right?" Freddie explains. "So Carly should start dialing."

"I'm not calling him," Carly says. "What if he's mad?"

"It's Spencer," Sam replies.

"Exactly. What if he's pissed? Detention is one thing, but getting arrested and put in a jail cell? What if he decides that staying here is the best way to teach me a lesson?"

"We've already been here for a few hours," Freddie points out. "Isn't that punishment enough?"

"Plus, he's picked me up in jail before," Sam adds.

"But you're not his little sister," Carly protests.

"Good thing," Sam replies. "Because that would make the crush I had on him when I was eleven really awkward."

This statement is met with an awkward silence.

"Right," Carly says finally. "I'll just call Spencer now."

And now it's just a matter of waiting. Thankfully, they're being let off with a warning because there's no way in hell Santana's staying in fucking Seattle. Sure, it seems like a nice place or whatever, and Lima totally sucks, but she's got a senior year to finish so she can get the fuck out of Ohio.

It took a lot of negotiating on Rachel's part and Santana can admit to herself that she's impressed. The insanely extensive vocabulary and annoying maturity actually seemed to come in handy. It briefly occurs to Santana that Rachel would probably make a kick ass lawyer if she wanted to be.

They're alone for the moment, so Santana's managed to convince Rachel that a little make out session is okay.

"I'm only agreeing so you stop bothering me."

Santana shrugs. She doesn't care why. All that matters is that Rachel's straddling her and grinding their bodies together.

When Carly, Sam and Freddie are pushed back into the holding cell, they find the two girls already there, making out. Actually since their hands aren't really visible, Sam's willing to bet, they're at least rounding second.

"Hot," she mutters.

"Sam."

"What?" Sam asks Carly. "Tell me it's not."

"It is," Freddie mumbles, blushing furious. "It really, really is."

"See," Sam continues. "Fredward here knows a good thing when he sees it."

They break apart, but only the one in argyle looks embarrassed. "Sorry," she says. "We may have gotten a bit carried away."

"I’m not sorry."

"Whatevs," Sam says, flopping onto a bench. "Long as I don't have to watch Federico here swap spit with anyone, it's all good."

"You're a real jerk," Freddie replies sitting on the bench as far away from Sam as possible.

"Tell someone who cares."

"Carly," Freddie says as she sits next to the lounging Sam. "Please tighten her leash."

Ignoring them both, Carly turns to the others. "I'm Carly. Obviously."

"Rachel. And this is Santana."

"Sam." Carly points to her right. "Freddie." She points to her left.

"So tell me about this fight," Santana says, leaning in.

Sam leans forward a bit. "So we're in the food court and I notice this sign that says, buy 2 corn dogs, get 1 free…"

"…and then Fredachino here kicks him in the nuts. Gotta say, didn't expect that," Sam finishes. "But the guy dropped the headlock and I smashed him in the face and when his nose started spurting blood, he was crying like a little girl. Hi-larious."

Santana seems amused by the story while Rachel sits looking disgusted. Freddie looks embarrassed and insulted while Carly has a look of adoration on her face as she watches Sam.

"Violence doesn’t solve anything, you know," Rachel says.

"Yeah, maybe not," Sam agrees. "But it's really fun."

"You don't mind when I fight," Santana points out.

"Yes, well, that's because you're usually defending me."

"Which is what I was doing," Sam says. "Just because we've got a damn web show, doesn't mean any jag off can start hitting on my girl."

"I suppose in that light it is rather romantic," Rachel allows.

"Exactly," Sam replies. "And it's so gonna get me laid later."

"Sam."

Walking into the police station, Puck looks around, a bit nervous. His own history of delinquency always makes him apprehensive about being in a police station. He also knows that's the main reason he was called. That and Rachel reminding him that hot Jews have to stick together.

Leaning against the wall is a twenty something guy, looking a bit nervous as well. Staring a bit, Puck can't help but feel he knows the guy. And then it hits him.

"Holy crap," Puck exclaims, walking up to him. "Are you Spencer Shay?"

"Uh, yeah, I am. I take it you're familiar with my work?"

"Yeah," Puck shrugs and looks around. "I watch your sister's show with my little sister."

"Of course you do."

"Your art totally rocks though," Puck continues.

"Thanks man."

"Why are you here?"

"Uh, seems Sam got arrested again. Carly and Freddie were with her, so I'm here to get all three of 'em."

"Cool," Puck says. "Picking up a couple chicks I know."

"Uh…"

"Classmates, dude. They were out celebrating and got into a bit too much excitement, I guess."

"Oh."

"Listen, not to be like a crazy stalker guy, but you think it'd be cool if I met your sister and her friends?"

"Um…"

"Being a fan, I can't pass up the chance. Plus, my little sister would totally love an autograph."

"I guess if they're up to it," Spencer replies.

"Cool."

"Bout time, Fuckerman," Santana snaps when she sees Puck.

"You're lucky I even showed up, Lopez," Puck replies.

"Thank you for coming to get us, Noah," Rachel says.

"No prob, Rach," Puck tells her. "Like you said, us hot Jews have to stick together."

"Can we get the fuck out of here?"

"Not yet."

"What? Why the hell not?"

"Must you use so much vulgarity?" Rachel asks Santana.

"Fuck yeah," Santana replies. "Why the hell can't we leave yet?"

"See that guy over there?" Puck points to the twenty something leaning against the wall behind them.

"Yeah? What? You're into dick all of a sudden?"

Puck ignores her. "He's bailing out his little sister and her friends. And I want to meet them."

"What? Why?"

"Do you mean Carly, Sam and Freddie?" Rachel asks.

"Yeah," Puck says. "You know them?"

"They were our cellmates," Rachel replies.

"Awesome."

"Thanks Spence," Sam says, smacking him on the back.

"No problem Sam." He turns to Carly. "You okay little sis?"

Carly nods, trying to little pathetic so Spencer doesn't yell at her.

"Fredster, you okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks Spencer."

"Can we please get out of here?" Carly asks. "I need to shower. I smell like jail."

"You mean badass?" Sam quips.

"We can't," Spencer says.

"What? Why?"

Spencer turns a bit and points towards Puck. "Ran into another fan," he explains. "Wants to meet you, get an autograph for his little sister."

They follow Spencer's line of sight.

"Figures," Freddie mutters.

"What?"

"We shared a cell with those girls," Carly explains.

"Whoa. Small world."

"Let's do this then so I can shower," Carly says.

"I can't believe you watch iCarly," Santana mocks.

"What? They're about our age and that Sam chick is a total badass. Spends more time in juvie than me."

"There's something to brag about," Rachel mutters.

"Hey," Carly says suddenly in front of them.

"Hello again," Rachel replies.

"So you're a fan?" Carly asks.

Puck nods. "Watch it with the little sis. You mind signing this?" He holds up the program from Nationals.

"Sure." Carly takes it and then pen and scribbles her name on it. She passes it to Sam who does the same before handing it to Freddie.

"Cool," Puck says accepting it back. "Major big bro points being scored."

"Well, glad you like the show," Carly says. "But I really need to not be here anymore."

"I understand," Puck replies. "Thanks."

"It's been fun," Sam says sarcastically over her shoulder as she trails after Carly.

"Nice meeting you," Freddie adds.

"Bye," Rachel waves.

"So what happened?" Spencer asks as he drives home.

"These guys were harassing Carly and so Frederica jumped in to defend her. It got out of hand," Sam answers.

"Where were you?"

"Getting corn dogs."

"Why?"

"Winifred here was whining that I still owe him a corn dog and it totally made me want some," Sam replies. "Besides, I was getting sick of his complaints."

"Well you do," Freddie interjects.

"Dude, that was like over four years ago," Sam tells him. "Let it go."

"It's the principal," Freddie replies. "Just one of many things on the list of ways you've made me miserable."

"Your existence makes me miserable," Sam snaps.

"Guys!"

"Sorry."

"Yeah, sorry, Carls."

"How many guys are we talking?" Spencer asks.

"Five."

"And all you got is a bruised jaw," Spencer comments.

"Well, er, uh, Sam might have helped a little," Freddie admits.

"Sam just showed up out of nowhere," Carly explains. "And then nearly gave me a heart attack when she jumped into the fray."

"What?" Sam asks.

"I was worried," Carly says. "They were these huge jocks, like six foot against Freddie and Sam. I didn't think they'd survive."

"But we did," Sam grins. "And then the losers retaliated with getting the cops involved. Pathetic."

"Yeah."

"Plus, I didn't even get to eat my corn dogs," Sam continues. "But at least Fredork here isn't as useless as I thought. Got in a few shots and distracted them enough for me to take them down."

"Uh, thanks, Sam."

"Hits like a six year old girl, sure, but at least he's not a chicken."

"Again," Freddie growls. "Thanks."

"You're staring at that like it's a million dollars," Rachel tells Puck as they ride the bus back to the hotel.

"It totally makes coming to Seattle worth it," he replies.

Rachel smacks him in the arm. "What about winning Nationals?"

"Yeah, that was cool too."

"Ha," Santana scoffs. "Now you're in for it."

"Noah Puckerman, while I applaud your apparent devotion to your sister, I am appalled at your lack of commitment to glee. Just because we won Nationals doesn't mean--"

"Rach," Puck interrupts. "It's senior year. To be honest, you're lucky I'm even still around."

"That's true," Santana agrees. "I had 2-to-1 odds he'd be in jail by now."

"Dude!"

"Well, before we graduate anyway," Santana continues. "So I guess there's still time."

"You're a real bitch, Lopez," Puck grumbles.

"You're a fucking tool, Puckerman."

"Perhaps it should be quiet time," Rachel suggests.

They both nod and cross their arms, leaning against the seat. Rachel signs and waits for the street their hotel is on, hoping the two can keep their bickering to a minimum. She really just wants to go upstairs and fall into bed. What a way to end the day.