A/N: This is really just a few short oneshots I came up with at different times stuffed into one, still pretty short oneshot. So there's really not much of a point, but whatever - we're in dire need of more Quick fics so I figured I'd add my share. I don't love it, but hopefully you guys will enjoy it enough to leave me a review to tell me it didn't suck too much :D

Title is from a song by Imogen Heap. Doesn't necessarily have to do with the story, although it actually kind of does depending on how you look at it...

Oh and I should probably add that there are some minor spoilers and speculation for future episodes. Nothing big, and there's probably no way my speculation on these spoilers will match what actually happens on the show, but I just thought I should warn you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This world belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox. I'm just playing with it.


Puck had the tendency to endlessly frustrate her. He was shamelessly egotistical and he flirted with girls left and right. He was absolutely clueless when it came not just her feelings, but everyone else's as well, and sometimes, like his former best friend and her former boyfriend, he was just plain moronic. To put it simply, most of the time he made Quinn want to strangle him with her bare hands.

But then there were those moments, those rare, fleeting moments that she wished would never end, where he somehow made up for everything else, where she was sure he wasn't even aware of the effect he was having on her – because he didn't even have to try with her, he just somehow knew exactly what she needed – and where she remembered just why it was she'd gone against all she'd been taught to be with him, and why she was with him now.

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"So, I hate to be the jerk who bursts your bubble, but where exactly are you planning on living?"

Quinn sent Puck a long glare as she stuffed her notebook into her backpack. She'd been avoiding this topic all weekend. The high of their win at Sectionals was still fresh and it had been nice forgetting about her living situation, at least for a little while. Of course Puck would be the one to send her crashing back into reality. "I'm staying with Brittany."

"Not permanently." He said it like a statement, like he was somehow in control of the situation and he fully expected that she'd come running to him. Well, he was wrong there.

"Her parents said I could stay there for the rest of the week. I'll work on finding a permanent place in the mean time."

She knew what was coming and she really didn't want to get into this with him right now. Picking up her backpack, she made a beeline for the hallway. Before she could sling it around her shoulder, it had been pulled from her hands. She twirled around, prepared to scold him for taking her belongings without permission, but he'd swept it around his shoulder before she could protest.

"You're pregnant," he said. "Let me carry this. It's the least I can do."

"Fine." She turned around again and exited the choir room.

He followed her with an annoyed huff. "What the hell are you carrying around in here anyway? Do you have everything you ever owned in this thing?"

"Not everything."

He let out a heavy sigh. "Stay with me, Quinn."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't need you."

He let out an amused snort. "Keep telling yourself that, babe."

They were outside now. Santana, who was waiting with Brittany in her car, waved impatiently over at her over. "Can you walk a little faster, preggers? I know you're with child and everything, but that doesn't give you the excuse to walk like my eighty year old grandma."

Quinn held out her hands for her backpack. "I have to go."

"You'd seriously rather stay with the queen of airheads than with me? I mean, I know I can be kind of an idiot sometimes, but I'm smarter than her and Finn combined."

"That's not saying a lot."

He chuckled. "Guess not." Reluctantly, he handed her backpack to her. Relieved that he wasn't putting too much of a fight, she turned to leave.

"Hey."

Santana looked extremely annoyed as Quinn stopped once more. She let out a sigh of exhaustion. "What, Puck?"

He stuffed his hands into his letterman jacket as his dark eyes met hers. "My mom knows. She wasn't exactly thrilled, but she said if you need to you can stay with us. She wants you there, Quinn, and so do I. So, you need a place to stay, when you're ready, our door is always open."

She wanted to say it was never going to happen, that he might as well give up, but there was just something in the way he was looking at her – that intense gaze she could never resist (there probably would have never been a baby if she could) – that told her he meant what he was saying. It wasn't like he was asking her to be with him. He just wanted to take care of her and their daughter in any way he could. And who was she to deny him that right?

Knowing that it was only a matter of time before she gave in anyway, she spared one last glance at Santana and Brittany and, chin held high, stalked towards his truck. "Fine. Let's go then."

He wore a proud smile the whole drive home.

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She couldn't really understand why mustard tasted so amazingly good on top of vanilla ice cream (and she wasn't even going to try to understand, because if she did, she just might throw up). But right now she couldn't get enough of it. Funnily enough, Helen Puckerman, had told her that she'd craved mustard a lot during her pregnancy with Puck. Puck had replied with a dry, "looks like I really am the dad", but Quinn had been glad to find something to bond over with Puck's mom.

It wasn't like Helen hated her or anything - she was actually pretty great about the whole thing – but there had been an air of awkwardness between them at first – awkward for Quinn because she was self-conscience about being the girl her son had knocked up and awkward for Mrs. Puckerman because, well, Quinn was the girl her son had knocked up. Needless to say, things had been a bit uncomfortable between them at first. But after over a week of living with the Puckermans, they were warming up to each other. The fact that Quinn cried right by Helen's side all through Schindler's List certainly helped speed things along too.

Puck's mouth hung open in disgust as he watched her eat. It was a Saturday night and they were spending it cooped up in Puck's house. Despite the fact that Puck claimed he'd much rather spend his Saturday nights with her than the way he usually spent it (doing God knows what), she knew he'd probably be out if it wasn't for the fact that his mom had grounded him until further notice after she'd learned about Quin. Still, he didn't seem to be too upset to be here, but that was probably because his mom was working a night shift and his little sister, Leah, was at a sleepover, leaving just the two of them. He probably thought he was going to get some action tonight. He was as dumb as Brittany if he thought that.

"That's really disgusting."

She shoved another spoonful into her mouth. "I don't care." Smiling in the delight of the odd mixture of bitter mustard and sweet ice cream, she set the bowl down. "Why are you watching me eat anyway? It's kind of creeping me out."

"What else am I supposed to do? My mom took away my X-Box and the DVD player, there's nothing on TV, and my guitar needs new strings." He grinned. "You're my entertainment tonight."

"Looks like you're in for an exciting night then."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "We could find ways to make it interesting."

She didn't even bother with a response to that. Instead, she picked up her now empty bowl and walked over to the sink. There was still a big pile of dishes in the sink from lunch and dinner so she busied herself with washing them off and putting them into the dish washer.

"Quinn."

She sighed. He was like a child; he seriously couldn't be quiet for more than two minutes. "What is it, Puck?"

"Did you know that our kid is starting to gain her senses now? Like she can feel things and taste things, hear things even. I'm wondering if it's such a good thing for you to stay in Glee. All the show tunes we sing can't be good for her. We don't want her to come out the next Rachel Berry."

Quinn couldn't help the grin that came to her face. She turned slowly around, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. Funny thing was, she was pretty sure he was serious.

Puck was now laying on the couch in the living room, his head ducked into one the pregnancy book Quinn had gotten a few weeks ago. She raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was reading it and even more surprised that he appeared to be further through it than she was.

She walked over to him, shoved his legs aside, and sat at the end of the couch. "Have you actually read that much or are you just skimming through?"

"Nah, I've already finished it." He shrugged defensively at her shocked look. "I've had a lot of free time lately."

She shook her head again. She really should stop letting herself be surprised by him. Puck had stepped up ever since she found out she was pregnant. He still had his issues, as she had hers, but he was doing what he told her he would – trying to be a good father. The baby wasn't even here yet and she could already tell that, if they did keep their baby, he really would be a great dad.

So maybe he could be a good boyfriend too? She'd been thinking about this a lot lately and it was little moments like this that really made her want to give them a try. He'd been so amazing to her this past week. Not once had he pressured her into doing anything (of course he'd made countless innuendos, but never acted on any of it). One thing she knew was that Puck could never be a good boyfriend if she didn't let him try. So maybe now it was time she did.

Making a bold decision that would either end wonderfully or blow up in her face, Quinn reached for his hands and strung her fingers through his. He looked over the book at her, eyes narrowing.

"I've been thinking about us," she said.

The book fell off the couch as he sat up with barely contained enthusiasm. "Us?"

"I think that we should try to maybe…" She searched for the right words. "…test out a possible relationship between us."

"Test? What do you mean by that?"

"Think of it like little trial run. We can go out a few times, do what normal couples do, and see how we do together. If it works we can become exclusive. If it doesn't, then we'll just go back to doing what we're doing now."

He looked at her seriously. "We get to make out?"

She shrugged. "Occasionally."

He pursed his lips thoughtfully and then grinned. "Deal."

She grinned too, leaning forward and kissing him hard and long, like she'd wanted to do for weeks. She could totally end up screwed over if this didn't work out, but right now she didn't care – right now all she knew was there wasn't a more natural thing in the world for her than kissing Puck.

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The front door swung open with bang. Quinn didn't need to look up from What to Expect When You're Expecting to know it was Puck. His entrances at his home were pretty much the same as they were at school - loud and obnoxious. She heard him flip his shoes off, shrug off his duffel bag, and slam the door shut before he made his way into the living room.

"Here." He dropped a bouquet of flowers onto her lap before falling down next to her on the couch.

Quinn stared down at the flowers (daises, lilies, and tulips mixed together - she was pretty sure these were from his neighbors backyard), and then moved her eyes onto him, suspicious. "What are these for?"

"Nothing really." He turned the TV on and glued his eyes to the basketball game playing on it. "Just thought I'd, you know, show you some appreciation or whatever."

Eyes narrowing, she stared straight at him. Puck wasn't the type of guy to give flowers to a girl on any random occasion. He was probably doing this because of what Mr. Shue said about respecting the girls. Any other day this might have bothered her, but right now in this moment she found herself oddly appreciative. The fact that Puck cared enough about her to put aside his macho ego and do something this sweet for her meant more to her than he could have possibly known.

She moved her hand to his knee, squeezing it gently. "Thanks."

He shrugged in response. Scooting closer to him, she rested her head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped loosely around her and even he couldn't hide the small, triumphant smile spreading across his lips.

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Quinn's eyes crept open at the sound of someone moving around her room (Puck's room, actually, but after over a month of living here it was really starting to feel like home). Light from the hallway dimly poured through the open door and she could just make out his dark figure searching as quietly as he could through the drawers. Reaching over to the bedside table, she flipped on the lamp. Puck looked up at her, blinking in surprise.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Didn't mean to wake you."

She sat up and rested a hand on her rounded belly. "You didn't." She didn't get to sleep easily these days. The baby had started to get really active and if she wasn't kicking around nonstop, Quinn was kept up by having to go to the bathroom every half hour or by sudden cravings she couldn't ignore. She glanced at the clock; it was almost midnight. "Are you just getting back from work?"

"Yeah." He continued searching around the drawers, throwing out random pieces of clothes as he did. "You know how Mr. Shue plays favorites in Glee with Finn? Well, it looks like his ex has fallen under Finn's spell too. Terri let him go home right at closing and made me stay and finish inventory. It's all good, though. We could use the money." He looked around the room. "Where the hell are my sweatpants?"

She glanced over at the desk by the window that was really more of an extra space for clothes than an actual studying space. "Over there."

"Should've known," he grumbled.

He looked exhausted as he dragged himself over to the desk, pulled off his jeans and threw on his sweats. His life was even more hectic now that he had taken a job at Sheets-N-Things and it was taking its toll on him. He never complained though. Not once. Even on a day like today when he'd gone from school to Glee practice and then spent the rest of his night at work he didn't seem to mind.

She wondered if he knew just how much she appreciated all he did. She didn't tell him enough, mostly because most of the time he was doing something to piss her off and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that sometimes he actually made her kind of happy. She felt bad now. He did so much and she let her pride get in the way of giving him the thanks he deserved.

Puck grabbed an old t-shirt from the stack of clothes on his desk before heading towards the door. "Night."

"Wait."

He turned back around and looked at her curiously. "What?"

She sat up a little more, leaning against the bed frame, and gave him a soft smile. "You should sleep here tonight. You've had a long day and I've been on that couch enough to know that it can't be good for your back."

He stood there for a second looking a little confused. She rarely offered him the luxury of his bed – not to mention the added benefit of being close to her. He came to his senses quickly, though, his lips twitching into a grin as he shut the door behind him and flopped down onto the bed.

"You're in a good mood," he said as he settled underneath the covers. She moved a little to the side, careful to put an appropriate distance between them. She didn't want to give him too many ideas.

She kinked an eyebrow. "Why are you so surprised? Are you implying that it's rare for me to be in a good mood?"

"Well, yeah. I mean lately you've been kind of pissy. But you've got a good excuse so I can put up with it."

She smiled at his honesty. Sometimes she hated it, but right now she appreciated it. "I do have a good excuse," she agreed. "It's all your fault really."

"Eh, that's debatable." She smacked his arm. He just laughed. "That was weak." She hit him again, this time much harder and in a much more delicateplace, and he relented with a wince, "Fine, fine, it's all my fault."

"Thank you for finally admitting it."

Chuckling, he shook his head and rolled onto his side. She slipped back down onto her side too, her face now only a few inches from his. His arms pulled her closer to him. For once she didn't protest. She really was in a good mood. And it was because of him – because, despite all the chaos he brought into her life, he made her happy.

His hand slipped between them and rested on her belly. She smiled softly at his touch and nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. He hadn't held her like this in a long time. Their trial dating hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped. Tiring of his endless flirting with other girls, she had broken things off after only a couple of weeks. He'd proceeded to have brief flings with countless girls, including Mercedes, which had led to a bit of a catfight between her and her newest friend. In the end, she and Mercedes made up and Puck was left in the cold. That was two weeks ago and Quinn been giving him the cold shoulder since then.

But since then something had changed in Puck. Not only had he gotten a new job, but he hadn't tried anything with any girl since Mercedes (Quinn was sure of this because, wanting to see if he'd learned his lesson, both she and Mercedes had both been keeping an eye on him). He had busied himself with school and work and making sure she and their baby were taken care of.

It was all clear to her now. He wasn't just trying to be a better father to their baby, he was trying to be a better man for her.

She wasn't sure she was ready to give him another chance to be her boyfriend yet, but it made her feel better to know that he was at least starting to realize that he needed to do more than just be a good dad to get to be with her too. She didn't want him to change everything about himself; she just wanted him to grow up a little both for their daughter and for her. And he was getting there, slowly but surely.

Puck's hand ran up and down her back soothingly, the other caressing the swell of her stomach where their daughter was growing. She closed her eyes, relaxing against him, the hope that maybe someday they could be something more again burning brightly in her heart.

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She felt like she was one of the few people in this world who really knew him. She saw sides of him no one else had seen, sides she doubted he'd ever show to anyone else. And it was for the reason that she hadn't given up on him yet. He was stubborn and wildly immature and just plain exhausting and sometimes she wondered how in the world he could be worth so much trouble, but then that other side - that sweet, selfless, overwhelmingly romantic side - would swoop in and she would see the great potential he had to really be the guy for her.

And maybe he was worth it after all.