Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Author's Note: So this came to me completely on a whim. I'm not even sure where this is going per say, but I can tell you that I'm almost 80% clear that I wouldn't abandon it. This won't be just a Quinn central fic, but all the characters from the tv show will be incorporated in some way. I'm not an expert on the 1920s and I don't pretend to be, so if there is anything that is incorrect, please, feel free to correct me. I know the characters say Quinn and Puck, but don't expect it to be the Quick show. I'm definitely looking to incorporate all different kinds of pairings, like the show does. So don't fret. But anyway, enjoy and review please!

The streets of New York City bred an aura of emptiness. In was only a half past eleven o'clock and the shops lining the street were darkened, the signs in the windows read closed. Not a single street lamp was on and there were no homeless wandering the streets begging for money or a place to stay. The usual clamor of cars stuck in traffic or zooming down the streets was no where to be found. All was silent.

But if one would look closer, they would see just below Harvey's Hamburger Hop, there was a thin set of iron wrought stairs, leading below to the basement. Just there, the tiniest speck of light was visible. And if one listened very carefully, ignoring all the chatter in their own mind, they could hear the faintest sound of jazz music. However, most are not that observant and rather keep walking by. But Quinn Fabray, standing under the dark street lamp, was observant, almost painfully so.

And if one was to see Quinn Fabray on the street, they would have not looked twice. She was beautiful, but not remarkably so. She still wore her honey-colored hair in the style of the Midwest, long and braided back along her neck. Her eyes, wide and bark colored were looking around in anticipation.

Just then, Quinn Fabray's eyes sparked with interest. The faintest sound filled the air, a light and carefree giggle. Quinn Fabray's delicate face spread into a grin. She quickly picked up her skirt and hurried quietly down the sidewalk.

Just a few yards ahead of Quinn was a group of people. At first glance, these people would be barely noticeable, all were donned in black from head to toe, and moved stealthily across the street and toward the hidden stairs under Harvey's. In the center of the group, was a tiny girl, who looked just Quinn's age of nineteen. She moved as if she were floating; the black fringe at the bottom of her dress shook elegantly at every step she took. Had Quinn been closer to the small group of people, she would have been able to notice the attention that the girl radiated. Almost as if she were the sun and the rest of the group moved around her. Even from far away Quinn knew that type of girl, who dressed in the latest styles and spoke the freshest slang, was the kind of girl you wanted to be around if you wanted to get anywhere in life.

So Quinn snuck up behind them, down the stairs and past the Harvey's darkened sign. At the bottom of the stairs the flapper girl's group had stopped. The boy standing just to the left of the flapper girl knocked three times on the door in a pattern that Quinn quickly remembered for later.

It was then that Quinn completely looked at the girl. She was small, probably just over five feet, but wore black Mary-Jane heels that were taller than any pair Quinn Fabray had ever seen at home. Her legs were long and covered in black fishnet stockings, accentuating the fine lines of her calves. The hemline of her dress stopped a few inches above her knees, but the fringe hung longer than that, it clung loosely to her petite shape. But the most remarkable part of the girl was her hair; the dark chocolate brown shade was one Quinn had only seen a few times and it was cut in a drastic and high fashioned bob, with bangs that hung straight across her forehead and length only to her chin.

The door then quickly swung open, jumping Quinn away from her observations. Out from the door stepped a large dark skinned man, dressed in a black tuxedo. His stoic expression was enough to send Quinn running back to Lima, Ohio as fast as she could. But Quinn grabbed the railing and pressed back against, hoping to blend in with the shadows of the dark street.

"Good evening Miss Berry," the doorman said, looking down at the dark haired girl, who Quinn assumed was 'Miss Berry'.

"Good evening Reggie," Miss Berry coed back, pursing her cherry lips up at him. She then winked playfully at Reggie and took two steps forward. She leaned up on her toes, with her heels lifting off the pavement. One of her hands covered in black lacy gloves brushed a piece of hair behind the mans year. She leaned in closer until her lips were only centimeters from him before whispering something unintelligible.

Miss Berry pulled back quickly, gave him a flirty shoulder shrug just as Reggie stepped out of the way to allow her and her friends inside. Seeing the opportunity, Quinn hurried down the stairs after them, staying close behind a few girls in the back of the group.

Her entry was in sight! She only had a few more paces to take before she was inside. Her very first entrance to a speakeasy! Quinn had been waiting years, she'd heard whispers and take about how glamorous and Hollywood they were. She heard once that there were attractive men everywhere you looked and the liquor poured freely. Quinn hadn't ever had a drink before, so when Prohibition rang through the streets, she herself was not affected. But everyone else was, it seemed the entire country was running itself around alcohol these days.

And then, Quinn's dreams came to a shattering halt. Just as Quinn was about to take her final step into the club, Reggie the doorman slid in front of her. He looked down at her, in his eyes brewing annoyance.

Quickly, Quinn gave him her best seductive smile, one she practiced in her mirror for years but never actually had the chance to use. "I'm with them."

Reggie didn't blink. "Get lost kid."

Quinn narrowed her eyes. That was another thing about Quinn Fabray that most people would not be able to tell from just looking at her. Quinn was the determined type, she didn't like to be undermined, and nothing and nobody stood in her way. She titled her head to the side, "Reggie, was it? Miss Berry doesn't like to hear the password until ten minutes before she enters, let alone tell anyone else. I just follow in behind."

"Get out of here." Reggie snapped one last time. "Or I'll toss you out."

Quinn glared at him, "I don't think you understand sir-"

But the door was slammed in her face before she could even finish her sentence.

Defeated, Quinn spun around on the heels of her feet. That was the third speakeasy she was rejected to in the last week. Quinn had been uptown, downtown, every single type of town in the last month. And no place would accept a girl like her.

She sighed, and woefully took the steps one at a time. She couldn't think of anything else to do anymore. The job she had wasn't paying very well and Daddy was still providing money since he thought she was in Washington D.C. studying art, she had time. But Quinn didn't like feeling purposeless, like she was just an empty shell, waste of space.

Maybe she should go back home. Lima had a place for her, she was the daughter of the richest man in town, CEO of Fabray Fine Dining. Quinn could go home, have her pick of the finest gentlemen in town, marry and have lots of babies. But that wasn't anything she wanted. It sounded like such a bore.

Quinn wandered around the side of the building until she settled on a cardboard box pushed against the wall. She leaned against her knees and attempted to blink away the tears that were forming in her eyes. She wasn't a crier. She never used to cry. But she found that in New York, tears were easier.

"Hey beautiful."

She looked up, eyes narrowed at whoever was coming to try and pick her up. That had happened many times so far, Quinn was able to easily talk her way out of stick situations. "Excuse me?"

"Hey, hey. It's only a greetin'." The boy put his hands in the air, as if she show her that he was innocent. Quinn didn't back off her glare. "I was only bein' friendly."

"Well, I'm not looking for friends." Quinn countered, looking up and tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

The boy only whistled and raised his eyebrows, "You're quite sharp, you know that?" He tucked his hands into the pockets of her dark trousers and gave her a wolfish grin. "You gonna just sit there on my box or are you going to help me move it inside?"

"What?"

"My box, you're sitting on the last of my boxes. I was just hauling 'em inside."

"I wasn't aware that this belonged to you." Quinn mumbled, pushing herself off the box and taking a step to the side. The boy just gave her an odd glance before picking it up easily. The contents rattled loudly. "Sounds like liquor bottles in there," she said warily.

"That's 'cause it is." He said mockingly, moving toward the back door of the building. He noticed her response, "What? You gonna call the cops on me?"

Quinn pressed her lips together, "No. I was just surprised is all."

"Looks like it. Girl like you."

"Girl like me? What is that supposed to mean?" Quinn leaned one hand on her hip and gave him a haughty glance.

"Exactly like it sounds." The boy clarified, stopping in his tracks to turn around and look at her. "Like you ain't got a clue what it's like here. Look at you, you look like you just jumped off the train from the middle of nowhere."

"Lima." Quinn said. He gave her a confused glance. "That's where I'm from. It's in Ohio."

The boy tutted and moved to walk back toward the door.

"What's your name?" Quinn asked, forwardly.

He stopped again and looked over his shoulder at her, "Puckerman. Noah Puckerman. Most people around here just all me Puck."

"Nice to meet you Puck." Quinn said politely. Puck was attractive, Quinn could not deny that. He was tall and built, she could see his strong arm muscles through his tight white button up shirt. Quinn allowed her eyes to wander across his face, strong jaw and warm eyes. He had a nice smile too, the kind that made you want to smile. Plus his hair, Quinn almost giggled at his hair, shaved on both sides except for a strand in the middle. She had never seen anyone with hair like that before.

"So that's it? You aren't even going to tell me yours?" Puck pressed, giving her a once over.

"I'm Quinn Fabray." She said confidently, looking at him much the same.

"Well Quinn," Puck said, grinning at her. "I've got some advice for you."

"Go on then."

"If a girl like you wants to survive in this town, get into the best clubs, know the right people, you're going to have to make a few changes. Cut your hair, buy some new clothes. Start with that. Maybe even get some thirty something to buy you dinner. Come back here next week, looking all fine and fresh, and I bet you Reggie will let you without the password."

Quinn looked up at him, not sure if she was offended or grateful. "Yeah? And what's the password tonight?"

Puck just looked at her and laughed. "You ain't getting in anymore sweet cheeks."

"For future reference," she pressed.

He chuckled to him and moved toward the door. He opened it with one and hand and started through, not before stopping one more time and poking his head out. "New Directions."

Before Quinn could yell a thanks, the door swung closed and she was surrounded my darkness again.