"So." Puck traced his hand down Quinn's arm, fingers tickling over her wrist. "So." Quinn echoed hollowly. She glanced over at the door to Beth's room, wishing she could leave Puck and go hold her baby girl, and reassure herself that everythng was okay.
But Beth was sleeping peacefully. Quinn had drawn out Beth's bathtime, had plaited her hair into tiny, soft braids and read her an extra bedtime story, and now everything was done that possibly could be done, and she was out of excuses to avoid talking to Puck. Quinn lowered her eyes from Puck's face. His expression-hurt, confused-asked a question she didn't have the answer to.
"So." Puck repeated. "I don't know... I was thinking we should go out tonight." Quinn glanced up in surprise. Puck was actually blushing, too shy to meet her eyes. "Like, I don't know, Breadstix or something." he mumbled.
Quinn felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rising in her throat, and she supressed it ruthlessly. It was just so ridiculous. They'd known eachother for years. They'd dated-albeit in secret-for months. Puck had seen her naked, knew every detail of her body, was the father of her baby. And yet, here they were acting like they'd just met.
A balloon of happiness welled inside Quinn's stomach, and she felt giddy and reckless. "Why not?" She leaned her head into the crook of Puck's arm, inhaling the smell of aftershave and Beth's baby shampoo that always seemed to hover around him. Beth. The happiness-balloon inside Quinn deflated a little, and she sat up. "Puck, we can't go out! What about Beth?" she went from giddy to angry in an instant, and she bit her cheek to keep from scowling at him. How could he not remember their baby girl?
Puck looked chagrined. "Well, I was thinking..." he began, glancing at Quinn. "Maybe Miss C could watch her." "Shelby?" Quinn's anger blazed white-hot, and she was on her feet in an instant. "No fucking way! That woman tried to take Beth away from us, Puck! There is no way that she is spending another minute of her life with our daughter!"
Puck's chagrin turned to anger, and he stood to face Quinn eye-to-eye, kicking over his chair. "What;s the matter with you? It's her kid, too! Still would be if you hadn't planted those books, and those-those... things in her house! And when you do this-when you act crazy like this, it reminds we how much better it would have been if I'd never let you do it!"
Those words shattered Quinn. Her legs buckled, and she sank back down onto her chair. "Don't call Beth 'it'." she whispered shakily. Puck seemed to realize his mistake, and he squatted next to her, running his hand sheepishly over his untamed mohawk. "Quinn." he began, but Quinn pressed her lips into a thin light and held up her hand. "You know what? You're right." She swallowed her anger with an effort and formed a wan smile. "We should go out." She leaned over and kissed Puck on the mouth, feeling his unshaved whiskers scratch her cheeks. "Go get ready."
She leaned back, shook out her long, honey-colored hair, and gave him a smile that implied- much. Puck looked a bit astonished at her sudden mood swing, but he got up obligingly and held out his hand to Quinn. "Are you sure..." he trailed off, but he knew and Quinn knew what was left unsaid. "I'm sure." Quinn hitched up her long skirt and stepped delicately past Puck. She sauntered off to their room, knowing Puck was watching her, making sure her hips swayed with every step.
Satisfied that Puck was definitely not thinking of Shelby anymore, Quinn shed her dress and pastel cardigan and made a naked beeline for the shower, half-hoping, half-not, that Puck had seen her.
As she stood under the steaming-hot water and worked conditioner through her thick hair, she wondered vaguely if she knew at all what she was doing.
Of course. She told herself reassuringly. She was doing what was best. For Beth, for Puck, and for herself. For herself most of all.
