Disclaimer: I do not own the television series Glee, and therefore I do not own any of the characters / major plotlines in this fic. I also do not own the lyrics from the the songs. They belong to the respective creators / songwriters.

A/N: This is sort of based off a drabble challenge I saw where the direction was to pick your favorite character from your favorite fandom and write 10 100-word or less drabbles based on this character with the prompt for each chapter being the first lyrics of the first ten songs that came up on your iPod shuffle. I modified it for fun. Instead, I'm doing the drabbles more one-shot style...so they will be longer than 100 words per chapter. Also, I'm doing a couple rather than a single character. My Glee OTP is Quinn & Puck...but for some odd reason I'm doing Quinn & Finn for this story. I'll probably do it for Quinn & Puck too. Basically, Quinn is a goddess. All the guys need to love her, pleasekthanx.

These drabbles exist as if the baby plot arc never happened at all. Therefore, Finn & Quinn are still a couple.

Rating: The M is there for a reason. It might get pretty smutty at parts.

Chapter: 3/10

"Where is the moment we needed the most..."

Bad Day, Daniel Powter

When Finn was younger, his mom used read him this book called "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day" He'd always loved the book, and even the movie that went along with it. It was just so sadly funny. That kid was just so unlucky.

Today, he regretted all that laughing he'd done at that book.

Today, he felt like Alexander.

The terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day first started going wayward when he woke up to find there was no milk in the fridge for his cereal. Almost everyday since he was like five years old he'd started his day with a bowl of Captain Crunch. Finn was not the type of guy who could eat dry cereal. He didn't know what kind of guy could eat dry cereal. Not any type of guy he wanted to associate with, and that was for sure.

He'd ended up having to eat a slightly freezer burnt toaster strudel instead. Oh, and he'd had to eat it without the little icing packet too, because sometimes he had the tendency to use two packs on one strudel forgetting that when the box got down to just one pastry, he'd be screwed.

When he got out to his car, it wouldn't crank. Burt had promised he'd get his alternator fixed before it killed his battery completely. He suspected that the reason that it wasn't done yet was the same reason his mom wasn't stocking the kitchen like she used too. They were both too giddy and love drunk to keep up with their responsibilities.

Speaking of "loves", Finn's "love" had promptly called to ream him out for not being at her house to pick her up in time for her to meet with the campus crusaders. When he told Quinn his car was dead and he was going to have to catch a ride with Mike, she just hung up on him. He was also denied his good morning kiss once they met up at school before they both headed off to their separate first periods.

In fact, she hadn't even greeted him. She'd just looked him over, then rolled her eyes and groaned "You're shirt is inside out."

In fact, his shirt was inside out, but he didn't have time to switch it until after American History was over. He'd had to learn the genius of his forefathers while wearing his his shirt on the wrong side. And of course, over the course the class he got like five notes from various classmates alerting him to the dilemma he was already aware of.

Kurt's was expected.

"Your shirt is inside out. Normally, this would not be so desperate of an issue, but that particular shirt happens to be horrendous. Having it on inside out only calls attention to, and therefore amplifies, the utter tragedy of your wardrobe. Please remedy this situation immediately."

Puck's wasn't.

" dude ur shirt's on wrong or maybe it's just ugly, idk."

He flipped it immediately after class, but by lunch he had a ketchup stain on it, and contemplated flipping it back again.

"Mr. Schuester, Finn is so off key that he's making me go off key, which I fear may do permanent damage to my vocal range, as it's not used to being anything rather than pitch perfect." Rachel spews out after stopping the music in glee rehearsals.

They start over three more times, but Schue finally decides that Finn is so off his game today maybe his voice should sit this one out. He's not that upset about it, until Schue takes volunteers to fill in for him. Out of the blue, Matt offers to give it a try. He knocks the song out of the park, leaving every one in awe of this hidden powerhouse of a voice he has. He even sees tears on Rachel's eyes watching him.

Great. He already has to share the male-lead limelight with Puck and Artie's nice rich voices, but now Matt's finally decided to step up to the plate and offer even more competition. The percentage of his chance at several music scholarships just got smaller. At least he's still got football.

"What kind of sorry excuse for a quarterback are you Hudson?" Coach Tanaka growls, grabbing him by the front of the helmet during football practice "My great aunt Patsy could make better calls on the field than you...and she's been dead for ten years"

Maybe he should just work on his grades.

Wait. He also failed a math mid-term earlier in the day. So, yeah, he's pretty much screwed on all fronts.

He's achy, sweaty, sore, down-trodden and pissed off as he lays against the window of Mike's truck on the way home from practice. The truck has no air-conditioning, which wouldn't be so bad if the power windows weren't also on the fritz. Finn thinks maybe if he can just nap on the way home he'll forget about being so hot.

No such luck. Mike likes to sing with the radio. And you know the kicker? His voice is amazing too. In this really original, and mellow sort of way. Fuck.

He doesn't even remember that Quinn was coming over to study Spanish after their practices were over until he sees her car in his driveway. He groans, because he knows Cheerio's practice ended a good two hours ago, and if she's been waiting for him all this time then she's probably up in his room, madder than a hornet.

Also, it scares him when she's up there alone. He's acquired a pretty extensive collection of dirty magazines by skiving off Puck and all the other footballers. He just knows she's going to stumble across the nudey motherload one day and he's going to get lectured, screamed at, and then maybe even dumped.

He calls out her name when he walks in the living room, as no one else is home, but he doesn't see her either. He sighs, and trudges up the steps. He's got this clear picture in his head of her standing in his door way, one hand on her hip, the other clutching a destroyed copy of American Booty, a glare that could bend steel in her green eyes.

It's actually a very different sight he's treated to.

She's clutching something, but not a magazine. It's one of the pillows on his bed, and she's fast asleep splayed out across the disheveled sheets. Her blonde hair is falling a bit messily from her normally severely tight ponytail, and it's covering her eyes a little. The Cheerio's uniform she's usually wrapped in is discarded on the floor, and she's in one of his old white t-shirts. It swallows her whole, fitting her almost like a gown, and hitting her mid thigh. It's riding up enough on one side that he sees her little panties. White cotton with a little bit of sheer lace trim. He swallows.

He's conflicted. On one hand, the picture is a sexy one. He can see her panties, and she's in his clothes, and on his bed. And that shirt is thread-bare enough that he thinks he's seeing a little bit of nipple outline. But, on the other hand, it's also completely serene and angelic looking. She's in all white, Her skin is so pure and creamy. Her hair looks softer than ever. And the light way she's sighing is causing her chest to heave up, pushing her little gold cross necklace into view.

Almost in a trance, he's content to just sit on the edge of his bed and watch her sleep.

The slight movement of the mattress wakes her up though.

"Hey," She breathes, voice tired, and eyes lidded in drowsiness.

"Hey" He whispers back, "I'm sorry I woke you...and I',m sorry I was late...and I'm also sorry because eI think I left my Spanish book at school-" Finn figures it's best to start explaining and apologizing right away to avoid any argument.

Either she doesn't hear the apologies, or maybe she's still just too sleepy, because all she says is "Come lay with me."

He does it event though he figures she won't like how sweaty he is

Sure enough, the first thing she says "You're really sweaty."

"Yeah..."

Quinn nuzzles into him anyway, sighing a deeply worn-out sigh.

"My uniform was sweaty too...that's why I'm borrowing your shirt...hope that's okay..." She doesn't mention that it's also because she feels so bloated that the uniform felt like it was cutting into her. Even if she was just imagining it, Finn's giant shirt is far more comfortable.

"Of course it's okay." He smiles down at her, and she gives him a sleepy smile back as he kisses her forehead and moves the hair from her face.

He can't nap when he's so agitated about the shit day he's been having. He starts telling her about it instead. He talks for the longest time, and she's dead quiet.

"And I just feel like a pretty big loser I guess...like nothing could possibly happen to make today any better..." He finishes, heaving a sigh. "What do you think.?"

No answer.

He shifts just a little, and asks again "Quinn...what do you think?"

"I think...you're amazing." Her eyes don't open, and it was really more breathing than it was actual talking.

For all Finn knows, she's been asleep the whole time, hasn't heard a word of anything he's said, and she's it's really Zac Efron she's calling amazing her her dream.

He can't stop smiling though, and he falls almost instantly asleep against her after that.

At dinner that night, just him and his mom with no Burt and Kurt for once, she asks him over the take-out "How was your day, hun?"

"It was..." It begins to all float though his mind, but is suddenly overpowered by the first image of Quinn on his bed, the sound of her breathing, and her sweet murmuring "...good. It was really, really good."

A/N: Sorry my updates are taking so long. I haven't abandoned this fic. I've just been swamped. Hopefully I'll get back in the update-swing now for this one, my similar Puck/Quinn...and a possible new Finn/Quinn/Puck one set as an aftermath to my threesome fic.

I've already started the next chapter of this one...and just a warning...it's living up to the M warning.