Disclaimer: These characters are not mine—I'm just borrowing them temporarily. (Ryan Murphy, you ROCK!)

Author's Note: I loved "Hell-o," but found it brought up more questions than it answered about what the heck was going on in the Gleeverse during the hiatus. Herewith, my attempt to fill in the Quinn/Puck storyline: how did they go from "I'm doing this alone" to mohawk-ruffling cuteness?

The Time Between

"Look, I'm not breaking up with you—I'm just saying, please stop supersizing, 'cause I don't dig on fat chicks."

"I'm pregnant, Puck."

"And that's my fault?"

Sometimes she just wanted to smack him. HARD.

One Month Earlier

"Hey, I know you're upset right now, but I want to be with you…and I'm gonna do everything I can to be a good dad to our baby."

"Thanks…but I honestly can't handle any more stress in my life right now. I'm gonna do this on my own. I know you don't understand it, but please respect it."

She had meant it, too—about handling this pregnancy by herself. It would be better that way: no confusion. She wouldn't have to deal with Finn's dumbfounded betrayal and Puck's apparently flexible idea of commitment. Being alone left her free—free to do what she needed to do…get ready to be a mother.

All that energy that she used to put into Cheerios and the Celibacy Club, getting the perfect boyfriend, ruling the school…now she poured herself into her studies and Glee practice, visited the school district's daycare program, and paged through Lima's job listings. She would be strong: strong for herself, and strong for her baby.

Strong. But damn lonely.

And about to get lonelier. She had been staying with Brittany since the Finn blowup. Brit was sweet, unquestioning, accepting where it counted. But Quinn couldn't really talk to her (to be honest, Brit's "thing" with Santana sort of freaked Quinn out. She saw the irony of her reaction—"Judge not, lest ye be judged" and all that—but it was still a barrier). More importantly, however, Brittany's parents were becoming increasingly uncomfortable with a pregnant sixteen-year-old sharing their daughter's room, as if Quinn's growing belly might be contagious. Irony, again—Quinn could hardly tell them that an accidental pregnancy was probably the last thing Brit had to worry about.

In any case, she needed to find a more permanent place to live. She came into Glee practice one day, hopeless calculations of income and taxes and rent and medical bills whirling through her mind. The room was empty, so she allowed herself to sink down on a chair, head in hands.

A creak sounded to her left; she peeked through her fingers at a pair of long, denim-clad legs.

She didn't look up. Avoiding him had become second nature. She couldn't afford to be drawn into that dark gaze, to rest her head on the strong chest. And he had been pretty good about leaving her alone (too good, maybe), hanging in the back with Matt and Mike, not saying much, only approaching her when the choreography called for it.

Until now.

"So…" he started, then cleared his throat. "So, I checked it out with my mom…she said you could stay with us."

How did he know? She snuck a glance at him: he leaned back, the picture of cool unconcern—and then bit one fingernail.

"Thanks," she said shortly. "But I need to be—"

"Yeah, 'on your own,' I know. Gimme a break, Quinn—where the hell are you going to get $400 a month? Plus utilities?"

She straightened her spine against the condescension in his voice. "It's not something you need to worry about, Noah. I'll figure it out." Turning away, she busied herself stuffing a notebook into her bag and fought back a tear or two.

A touch on her shoulder. "Q, come on. This is my kid too. I can't afford to give you the cash, but at least I can offer you a free place to stay."

"That's—nice—of you…and your mom. But you guys don't really have the space…and you and I, in a small house? I don't think it's a good idea." Way, way too hard, she thought.

"We wouldn't be exactly in the same house, Queen Bee," he bristled. "You can have the extra room—y'know, the one…over the garage."

She did know.

Dark, a little musty, the ceiling a steep triangle…crammed with a jumble of household stuff, broken, unused, or just forgotten. A futon with a scratchy blanket. A tiny window through which she glimpsed the stars, just before…

Just before Puck's lips crashed down on hers and she arched toward him and everything else was blotted out in a wine-coolered haze of kissing and touching and discovering.

Her cheeks burned; she shook away the memory. Pride prompted her to refuse—but really, what other choice did she have? Maybe this was what she deserved, this was what she had to look forward to as a teenaged single mom: hand-me-down places, extra rooms, relying on other people's generosity.

And maybe there was a certain symmetry in it all, in bringing her daughter home to the place she was conceived.

She faced him, defeated. "Fine."

"'Fine'? Jesus, Quinn, don't knock me out with your gratitude." His arms were crossed, but he was grinning. Leaning forward, he said, "How about a kiss to seal the deal?"

"Don't push it, Puck." A well-placed shove sent him sprawling to the floor, just as the other Glee members arrived.

She hid her smile under cover of the general laughter.

TO BE CONTINUED