AN: I can't believe I started this story a million years ago, before Puck sang "Beth," before they gave Beth to Shelby…time flies. Well, I've decided to plow on with my once-abandoned-now-AU story. This is me, kicking it back into gear. Hope you enjoy it. (Puckleberry fans, I swear to ramp that element up ASAP).

"Hey, Q. Call me. It's important."

"Press seven to save this message, nine to delete," the electronic lady said. Quinn hit 9.

"Quinn, it's Rachel Berry calling. We must discuss…" She hit 9 again.

"Quinn? Rachel again. I must insist you call me immediately, because…" Quinn mashed the 9.

"Quinn, you must be very busy. Too busy to respond via text, e-mail or Skype, but…" Quinn deleted that message, too.

"Aaah!" she screamed with frustration.

"What's wrong?" Finn asked, joining his wife in their bedroom.

"Puckerman and your ex won't leave me alone. They've been texting and e-mailing and leaving voicemail all week."

"What about?"

"I have no idea."

"Okay, Puck doesn't talk much, but Rachel didn't say anything about what she wanted in all those calls and texts?"

"I didn't listen to them! I just deleted them, the way I always do when she calls to brag about her amazing life as a Broadway star."

"Quinn, Rachel usually calls you once a year, on your birthday. Wait, did I miss your…" Quinn glared at him. "No, your birthday's in March. I totally knew that. I'm calling her. What if something's wrong? She's Kurt's emergency contact in New York!" Finn frowned at his wife and whipped out his phone.

"Oh, calm down. If it was about Kurt, she'd have called you, not me."

"I'm still calling them." He dialed Puck, who quickly answered. "Hey, man, what's up?"

"Is Quinn there?" Puck asked. "Put her on the phone. She's been ignoring our messages for a week, and Rachel is this close to getting on a plane to make her talk to us."

"Here," Finn said, handing Quinn the phone.

She glared at her husband. She didn't know why this was upsetting her so much. Quinn and Noah Puckerman got along just fine. Actually, by the end of senior year, she'd gotten along decently with Rachel. For some reason, though, this sudden flurry of communication was freaking Quinn out.

Quinn liked her life in southern California. She was a cheerleading coach for Rancho Carne High School, and Finn was a music teacher and assistant coach of the football team. They had a nice little house, two decent cars, they were both in good shape, and they were in love. All their friends were jealous of them. What did she have to fear from Puck or Rachel Berry or a stupid phone call?"

"What is it, Puck?"

"Q, it's about Drizzle."

"Wh-who?" she stuttered.

"Our daughter? She found me and she wants to meet you." Quinn remained silent. "Q, she doesn't want anything. I mean, she's healthy. Sharon and Josh did a good job and everything. She just wants to meet you. Be friends or whatever."

"Friends or whatever?" Quinn squeaked. "Easy for you to say. She can't blame you. From day one, you wanted to keep her. I was the one who wanted to give her up. I was the one who wanted to stop visiting or getting updates. You know what Drizzle really needs from me? The same thing she always needed: not to have me in her life."

Quinn hung up and dropped the phone on the bed. She tried to pretend she wasn't upset, but her chin began to quiver. A hot lump formed in her throat, and her eyes prickled with tears.

"Honey, c'mere," Finn said with his gentlest voice. He wrapped her in his long arms, and she felt so tiny and safe. Quinn began to sob. Finn held her, cradling her head in one hand, rubbing her back with the other. Gradually they began to rock back and forth, and he hummed a song with no words. When Quinn had cried until she felt wrung out, they laid down on the bed together, her head on his broad chest.

"So," he whispered, "Is that why you don't want to have kids?"

"What?" she asked sharply. "What are you talking about?"

It was suddenly clear to him: Quinn didn't think she deserved a child, didn't think she was good enough to be a mom. He decided not to share his discovery directly. Not now, anyway.

"I think you and Puck did the right thing, giving Drizzle to Josh and Sharon. You weren't ready to be parents, and you couldn't have given her what they did. But what would it hurt to get to know her now?" His wife furrowed her brow but didn't respond. Finn brushed some soft strands of blonde hair out of her face. "She just wants to get to be friends, right? Can't blame her. Who wouldn't want to be your friend? You're awesome."

This was why she'd fallen in love with him, all those years ago. Finn Hudson could look at her with those big brown eyes and she felt like the most wonderful woman in the world—not just beautiful, but like she was a good person. It was a lot to live up to, but she loved him, so she tried.

Quinn sat up, grabbed a tissue from the box by the bed and daintily wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "Honey, hand me the phone." She dialed and it only rang once before Noah Puckerman answered.

"Puck? Sorry I freaked out. I've thought it through, and you can give Drizzle my number. Do they really call her Drizzle?"

"I'm glad you came around, Q, but you're a little too late," he replied with a chuckle. "When you hung up on me? Berry bought three plane tickets and booked some hotel rooms. We'll be there next Saturday."

Quinn's whole body tensed for a moment, but she forced herself to relax and sighed. "Just make sure to clear it with Sharron and Josh. I'd rather not get arrested for kidnapping."

If anyone is still reading this? Please comment and let me know.