Title: Crazy Girl

Rating: T for right now, but maybe M later.

Length: 1313 words.

Author: ilikewhitevans (aka Lezgirls65 on livejournal)

A/N: This should be interesting. It's probably going to be my first long fic. I've done some shorter ones before but never one that I've wanted to make into a multi-chapter thing. So yep. Well, here it goes.

Summary: So this is very A/U. Quinn and Puck are both in the Navy, stationed in Pensacola, FL. Puck is from a small town outside Orlando. Puck takes Quinn home with him one weekend and things happen that neither of them were prepared for.

"Puck! Hurry up!" Quinn shouted, yelling at him from across the parking lot, where he was lugging two bags, no doubt filled with cheap beer.

He smirked as he came closer. "Why are you in such a rush? They aren't even your family."

She sighed, taking one of the bags and throwing it in the bed of the truck, satisfied when she heard the rattling of bottles and cans and saw the subsequent grimace on Puck's face. "I know that, but you told your mom that we'd be there by 9. It's just after 2 now. We're gonna have to haul ass to get there by then."

"Not in this baby." He smiled, shutting the tailgate with a satisfying thunk and patting it.

As much as hated to admit it, it was a nice truck. A not-new-not-old Chevy on a 7-inch lift. It sat high, and rumbled when he started the diesel engine. Okay, she admitted, to her herself (begrudgingly) that she did love it. "Yeah, yeah. Now get in. If there's one thing I'm not, it's late."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes as they both climbed into the cab, settling comfortably against the cool leather seats.

Puck turned over the engine, and she closed her eyes and allowed herself a small smile. Yeah, she definitely loved this truck. She opened one eye and glanced over at Puck, fidgeting with the wiring that traced back to the radio. "What are you doing?"

"Just," he paused, stripping one wire, then another, "wait for it." He twisted the two wires together, before taping them that way. She shrugged, figuring her had some idea of what he was doing, when all of a sudden the soft country music they'd been listening to exploded into a fit of thumping bass. She jumped, glaring at Puck. Turning around she saw that, sure enough, he'd put two subwoofers in the back, which were vibrating so hard she was concerned that they might break.

She leaned over slightly and turned the volume down. Her ears were still ringing but now she could hear the rumble of the engine. "Really, Noah?" She said, emphasizing his first name.

"You know I hate that. You shouldn't steal people's driver's licenses. It's rude."

Incredulously, she laughed. "Steal? You were so drunk you couldn't see straight and I had to give that cop your ID so he wouldn't get us in trouble for underage drinking. I just happen to see your first name. Not my fault, man." She put her hands up, ridding herself of the blame. "That was also the night that you invited all the girls at the Chi O party to 'ride your ark'."

He grumbled at her, with no real intelligible words. She had showed him a video of him using that line to hit on some blond girl named Ashley, the next day and he'd refused to speak to her for two days, saying she set it up. "And anyway, the subs are cool. Think of all the girls we'll pick up in this now." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh? Cause we didn't do that enough before?"

They shared a conspiratorial smile before he pulled a pack of Marlboro Reds out of his pocket, rolling down the windows. "You want one?" He offered her the pack, as he lit his own cigarette.

She shook her head. "Nah got my own." She said pulling a pack of Special Blends out of her jacket pocket, lighting one and blowing a thin stream of smoke out the window. "You ready to get the fuck out of here?"

He took a long drag off his own cigarette, before exhaling. "St. Cloud, Florida, here we come."

There were two things Quinn loved about being in the Navy.

One: Being part of something bigger than her.

Two: Meeting all kinds of crazy people, most of which she hung out with on a daily basis.

That's how she had met Puck. They had been in a class together at their previous base. It was a course to help them with their next class. Ridiculously easy, but it gave all the students time to get to know each other, which had worked out especially well when they had all transferred to their next training command, across the street. All 20 of them had been together for 6 months at this point and Quinn couldn't help but thank some sort of divine being for letting her meet Puck.

He'd been there for her when her parents had told her they were getting a divorce; an unexpected friend who gave her a cigarette and a shoulder to cry on. They'd been friends since then, closer than Quinn had been with anyone in a long time.

And once Puck had bought a truck, he'd been talking about going home the first long weekend they had, which turned out to be a 4-day. That's how Quinn found herself with him now, passing through Orlando on their way south to St. Cloud. From the way Puck had talked about it, it seemed like heaven, if for no reason other than to get them away from base for the weekend. He'd told her about her brothers, Finn and Kurt, about Mr. and Mrs. Hummel, and another family, the Berry's.

She had been staring out the window for the most part of the trip, only focusing inside the truck, when looking for her lighter or to change the song blaring from the speakers. And then the scenery had started to change. He'd taken an exit and then all of a sudden they were in a town. They passed St. Cloud Auto, so she assumed they would be stopping soon.

As it turned out, Noah lived 20 minutes outside of town. Once they had gotten through town, they turned onto a state highway, driving for another ten minutes before he took another turn, onto a two-lane road. The view out the window was illuminated by the moonlight, showing off large fields filled with some sort of grain Quinn couldn't quite place. Houses dotted the landscape, their porch lights shining in the night.

After a few more turns, she looked over at Puck, who was drumming on the wheel with his fingers. "Anxious much, dude?" She asked, a smile clear in her voice.

"Duh, Fabray. I haven't been home in like 8 months. I miss it." He said softly, showing a softer side, that she rarely bore witness to.

She reached over and placed a hand softly on his shoulder, feeling empathetic. She just wished she could say the same thing about her hometown.

"We're here." He said, turning into a gravel driveway. As he pulled the truck up to the house, she saw the front door open and a smaller boy come rushing out, meeting Puck halfway between the truck and the porch. He threw his arms around Puck's broad shoulders. He laughed as Puck lifted him off the ground for a split second before setting him down.

Quinn reached over and killed the engine, taking the keys out of the ignition to stop that stupid dinging noise. She looked down at her phone, pleased to see that the time was only 8:30. They were actually early.

All of a sudden her door was wrenched open and the smaller boy was standing next to her. "Oh, my gosh. You must be Quinn!" He said. Okay, wow. Puck had told her a lot about Kurt, but had failed to mention that he was clearly gay. "All good, I promise." He said with a wink.

She smiled. "You must be Kurt." He nodded. She took his outstretched hand and he helped her out of the truck.

Looping his arm through hers, he smiled. "Yes, I am. But I want to hear all about this girl from Oklahoma, we've heard so much about."