Title: It's Only Wednesday

Fandom: Glee

Pairing: Quinn/OC

Rating: T (For language)

Spoilers: Uhhh… Mostly for the entire series, but especially for stuff before 'Prom Queen', as 'Wednesday' starts soon after 'Prom'

Disclaimers: I only own my own character, Wally… I no own anyone else…

AN: Well, I seem to hate every real pairing for every show under the sun, because this is my second story with an original character pairing… Well, I'm still working on it, especially the middle/end, because I hate it, but I figured I'd post the first chapter and see what you guys think about it, so be sure to review and let me know!

I named the story after the Crash King's song, 'It's Only Wednesday', because I wasn't feeling too creative at the time. The timing is also all over the place; I'm having there be more time between 'Prom' and 'New York' form my own plot line purposes.

I

Quinn Fabray didn't believe in fate. She didn't think that things happened for a reason. Especially on Wednesday nights. Things just didn't happen on Wednesday nights. Quinn just liked to sit on Wednesday nights and read. She ignored her phone and had even told her boyfriend, Finn Hudson, not to call her on Wednesdays.

Nothing was supposed to happen on Wednesday. Her mom was out, the house was quiet, and she was immersed in the fourth Harry Potter book (in preparation for the final Harry Potter movie, she had decided to read the entire series again).

The chaos that was Quinn Fabray's life was finally organized. She was content.

Ding-Dong! Quinn looked up, her hazel eyes narrowing at the door. "Who the hell is here at…" Quinn muttered to herself as she glanced over at the clock. "11:30 at night?" Quinn marked her page, stood up, and walked over to the door. Whoever was at the door rang it a few more time in quick succession. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Quinn opened the door, expecting to find one of her friends from the glee club, needing her help with… something stupid.

Instead there was this skinny guy standing on the Fabray porch, his hands in the pockets of his ill-fitting jeans. Quinn had never seen him before.

"Can I help you?" Quinn asked, taking her time pronouncing each word to make sure he understood her.

He smiled nervously at her. "Hello!" He said happily, giving her a small wave. "I am in need of some assistance."

Quinn crossed her arms and arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Yes?" Something told her that maybe she should have hidden her pepper spray in her sweatshirt.

"My car," The kid, he had to have been at least her age, he didn't look that old, pointed over his shoulder to an old beat-up two door… something; Quinn wasn't good with cars. "It broke down. Can I borrow your phone?"

If it were anyone else, Quinn probably would have rolled her eyes, but something stopped her. "Alright, uh…" Quinn didn't know if she should invite him inside or not. She decided to go with her gut and leave him on the porch. "Wait here."

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded, and took a step back. Quinn quickly ran into the kitchen, grabbed the phone, and returned to the boy. She handed him the phone, without ever technically exiting the house; he took the phone and stared at it for a second. "Do you know any good mechanics? I'm uh… not from around here."

"Give it here." Quinn held out her hand; the guy handed her back the phone and Quinn punched in Finn's number.

Two rings later, he picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Finn, it's Quinn."

"Quinn, hey what's up? It's Wednesday, so I thought-"

"I need to talk to Mr. Hummel." Quinn said quickly.

"Wha-Why?"

"Just get him on the line." Quinn snapped, eying the man who was smiling slightly at her.

"Alright, alright, hang on…"

A few seconds later, Mr. Hummel was on the line. "Hello, Quinn?"

"Hi, Mr. Hummel, I have a guy here whose car broke down. He wants to talk to you."

"Alright, put him on." Quinn handed the kid the phone, and he took a step back to talk to Mr. Hummel. Quinn decided not to listen to the conversation because a) she couldn't have understood what he was talking about anyway, because Quinn didn't speak car and b) she was too busy examining him.

He was a little bit taller than she was and lithe, like a runner. He had dark hair at stuck up all over the place, dark eyes, and fair skin; he was relatively attractive, even though his clothing consisted of a pair of ill-fitting jean, a ratty flannel shirt, and shoes with holes in them.

"Alright, and thank you again." The kid said as he hung up. "He can't help me now, because it's late."

Quinn clicked her tongue. "What are you going to do then?"

The kid shrugged. "I don't know."

Quinn mulled over the choice she had to make right now; offer a complete stranger, who could be a serial killer or a rapist or any other kind of psycho, a place to sleep, or to turn him away. "Give me a second." Quinn instructed him. "Wait here."

Quinn took the phone back and stepped back a few feet, never turning her back to him; she punched in her mother's number and waited… one ring, then two… "Quinn?" Her mother answered.

"Hi mom." Quinn said, keeping her voice low. "I was wondering…" she glanced at the boy again; he was examining the detailing on the front door. "There's a guy here… he's my age, and his car broke down, and he doesn't have anywhere to go…"

Her mother paused. "You want to know if he can stay overnight."

Quinn bit her bottom lip. "He's from out of town, he doesn't have a place to stay."

"Quinn, I don't know about this…"

"I don't know either…" Quinn admitted. "But it's kind of cold out…"

Quinn heard her mother sigh. "Alright Quinn. I'll be home soon." She hung up.

Quinn inhaled and moved over to the door again. "Do you… Want to come inside, maybe stay the night?" she asked cautiously. "It's kinda cold outside…"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're just going to let me come in? Just like that?"

Quinn was taken aback by this. "Uh… yeah?"

"I mean, I do thank you for the offer," The boy took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms. "Haven't you considered the possibility that I'm an escaped convict?"

"I have, actually." Quinn mirrored him by folding her arms as well. "But then again, I could probably kick your sorry ass, so I don't really have to worry about that."

A smile spread across his face. "In that case, I would love to come in… But first," he pointed to his car. "Can you help me get my car out of the middle of the road?"

Quinn looked him over again. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just help me push it." He chuckled as Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Fine." She stepped out of the house and followed him down the steps. "What's your name, anyway?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "What's yours?"

Oh, a smart-ass. "Quinn Fabray. Now yours?"

"Wally Weaver."

Interesting name; Quinn didn't think it suited him though. "Ok, Wally, where are you from?"

"Seattle."

Whoah, when he said he wasn't from around her, he wasn't kidding. "Why are you in Ohio then?"

"Passing through." Wally shrugged. They reached the old, beat-up car; Wally walked around to the back and placed his hand on the trunk. "Ok, come on, let's just get it to the side of the road."

Quinn stood next to him and they pushed; it rolled forward slowly. Next to her, Wally muttered something. "Come on, Lucy… You can do it…"

Quinn stopped; sure, maybe he didn't know about her past, but… "What did you call me?" She snapped.

Wally looked at her, annoyed. "I didn't call you anything; Lucy is my car's name, it's short for Lucille."

Quinn blushed. "Sorry…" They kept pushing the car, getting closer and closer to the curb. Quinn noticed something in the backseat. "You play guitar?" she asked between clenched teeth as they pushed, their feet sliding on the pavement.

"Yeah," Wally grunted. "I'm actually playing a few gigs here before I move on."

"Really?"

"Yeah…" Wally paused and looked at how close they had gotten the car to the curb. "Well, that's a good as it's going to get. Thanks."

"No problem."

Wally opened his car, and pulled out an old army bag, probably full of his clothes. They got into the house, and Quinn shut the door behind them.

"Do you want anything to drink?" the offer was lame, and Quinn knew it.

He shook his head. "Uh, no thank you."

There was silence for a few beats. "You want to take a shower?"

Wally nodded. "Yeah, I've been on the road for a few days and…" he trailed off, not wanting to babble; he was almost uncomfortable under the blonde's gaze.

"I'll show you to the bathroom, then." Quinn motioned for him to come along, up the staircase, down the hall and into the large ornate bathroom. "Uh, towels are under the sink," she pointed to the cabinet door under the sink. "Let me know if you need anything." She quickly left, and darted into her room; a few seconds later, she heard the door to the bathroom close and the sound of the water running.

Quinn grabbed her phone and punched in a number. One ring, then two, then three…

"Quinn?" Mercedes' voice asked from over the phone. "What's up? Why you callin' me at twelve in the morning?"

"Mercedes!" Quinn breathed relieved to hear her friend's voice. "I need some advice."

"At twelve in the morning?"

"There's a man in my house."

"Ok, stay where you are, I'll call the police!"

Quinn shook her head, even though she knew Mercedes couldn't see her. "No, no, no. I invited him in. His car broke down in front of my house."

"Oh, ok… wait, that might be even worse! Stay where you are, I'll call the police!"

"No, Mercedes, I think he's our age." Quinn explained. "I just…"

"Just what? Is he cute?"

"Kind of… He's kind of rugged looking."

"Mountain man rugged?"

"No. He's from Seattle. He's giving off that grunge-rugged vibe."

"Why is he in Lima, Ohio then?"

"He's a musician, I think he's touring or something."

"Touring? Is he big?"

Quinn let out a snort. "Not by the looks of his car." She paused when she thought she heard him talking.

"Quinn? You there?"

"Yeah," Quinn slowly opened her door, letting in the sound of the water. "Hang on…" Under the sound of the running water, she could hear a voice.

"Oh I was in the darkness… hmmm…" It was Wally. He was singing… And he was good. Really, really good.

"What's goin' on?" Mercedes asked.

Quinn didn't say anything for a second. "He's singing… Listen…"

Quinn opened the door a little bit more and sneakily moved closer to the bathroom; the singing grew louder and she held up the phone so Mercedes could hear him. "Searching for the ones in my mind… I'm so far away… But it feels like forever…"

Quinn retreated to her room and put the phone back to her ear. "Did you hear it?"

Mercedes didn't say anything. "Damn… He's good."

"I know." Quinn said, as she closed the door.

"We could use someone like that at Nationals."

"We could."

"How long did he say he was going to be staying?"

"He didn't."

"Well, Quinn," She could feel Mercedes smiling, and Quinn couldn't help but smile as well. "Let's see if we can get him to stay long enough to be beneficial to the glee club…"

Quinn Fabray didn't believe in fate, but it was fate that had Wally Weaver's car break down outside her house that Wednesday night.

XXX

Well, I know it's a bit unrealistic, I mean, Quinn wouldn't just let some guy in her home in the middle of the night, but whatever, it's a story. And I also really liked the friendship between Mercedes and Quinn that began in 'Home' but never really, really got touched upon again. So I'm going to expand on that, and have them be really good friends.

I hope you all like Wally, as you shall be seeing much more of him… So, please, review and let me know what you think!

P.S. If you can name the song Wally sings in the shower, I'd be very impressed…