On Monday, Quinn was in a terrible mood. Saturday had been great… but Sunday had been comparibly awful. She had bruises on her neck from her dad's fingers from where he'd held her in place, and bruises on her arm to match. She'd had to use a bunch of concealer for her neck. The concealer didn't help the aches, and she was sore and angry as she walked the halls.

"Hi."

Quinn turned with an uncompromising scowl. The Asian boy from Rachel's glee club had jogged up behind her. A few unkind words passed through her head, but she shooed them off. She may be cursed to be a goddamn slut but she wasn't going to be a racist, too. She still wasn't happy to see the boy, however, and she didn't even know the boy's name.

The boy just smiled easily back at her. "I'm here to walk you to class."

"You pulled Fabray duty, I take it," Quinn snapped, turning to walk off before he could answer.

"Yup," he replied, taking long strides to pull up at her side.

"Sucks for you," Quinn bit out, trying to pick up her pace to get away.

"Not really," the boy said, keeping pace.

Quinn huffed and the two walked in silence down the busy hallway. For a glee clubber, he wasn't as talky as Quinn had expected. He was a guy, so he was immediately suspicious, but he was neither trying to spy on her from behind corners nor trying to force conversation. All he did was walk with her. She almost wanted to ask his name, but that would be inviting him to talk if he was actively holding himself back.

They finally got to Quinn's AP US History class and Quinn shrugged. "Well, this is me."

"I know. I'm in this class, too," the boy said with a grin.

Quinn blushed. She hadn't known that. She barely came to class and didn't pay attention to her classmates. She only popped in for tests and the AP practice tests to gage her preparedness for the real deal. "Oh."

"It's okay, I spend most of the class in a haze, too," the boy teased, nodding into the classroom. Quinn smiled slightly, entering the class with Mike on her heels.

"I'm Mike, by the way," he introduced himself, holding out a hand.

"Quinn…"

"Nice to meet you, Quinn," Mike said as they shook hands.

Quinn stayed in class, sitting next to Mike and allowing herself to exchange funny faces with him as class went on.

At the end of class Mike bowed gracefully at the door, making Quinn roll her eyes. "Enchanté," Mike said, doing a playful gig as he left. Quinn chuckled.

"Yeah, he's kind of a ham once you get to know him," a voice from behind her said.

Quinn's walls slammed back into place as she turned, her face shifting from mildly amused to her trademark blank ice queen. Noah Puckerman leaned against the lockers watching Quinn expectantly. Quinn glared at Puck, who was easily one of her least favorite of the New Direction members even factoring in the Ritter smackdown. He was just abrasive and rude. And he clearly judged her for the way she'd handled the Mack/Ritter scenario. He thought that somehow she could have done more. But he was a guy, and he didn't understand that you got in a lucky punch and pegged it, if you were smaller and weaker than your foe. Quinn wasn't like Puck. She didn't have muscles, she didn't have weight or height. She just had anger.

"I'm not doing this with you, I don't care if Rachel tried to get you to follow me around. Go away." Quinn started to walk away, heading in the direction of the exit doors and her bleachers.

"Hey, wait up!" Puck called after her. Quinn shook her head and kept walking. She heard a grumble from behind her. "What's your problem?"

"My problem is that we don't even like each other, so we shouldn't have to be forced to endure each other's presence.

"What makes you think that I don't like you?"

"Uh, everything about you? It's pretty clear."

"Well, you're one to talk, you don't like being around anybody."

"Then let's keep our distance and it all works out."

"You know, you're not like the other Skanks," Puck called after her. Quinn slowed, turning back a little to look at him.

"What does that mean?"

"I mean, you're angry and annoying and dress the way they do, yeah sure, but you aren't really one of them. Like, I've spent time with Mack, we've slept together and everything, and I just don't get that read off you."

Quinn felt like punching him in the face. So he'd realized she didn't fit in with the girls, she didn't fit in anywhere, but he didn't have to point it out. "Screw you." She started to storm off again.

"… hey, yo, what's on your neck?"

Quinn spun around, putting her hand to the back of her neck to cover it. She didn't know what he'd seen, so she wasn't even sure she was covering it. Fucking hell, she had done her best to get the back of the neck, using a hand mirror and her bathroom mirror in tandem to get it all, but maybe she hadn't. Or maybe some foundation had smudged off. Or maybe- maybe it wasn't even the bruises, maybe she'd got marker on her neck somehow and she was overreacting. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, fear spiking her voice.

Puck stared at her then he took a step closer, eyes narrowed and intense. "Is someone at school still messing with you?"

"What? No!" Quinn protested, but Puck was already pacing.

"Fucking assholes! I can't believe them! And after we put out a fucking hit and all and they still ignore us like we're nothing! I'm going to kill those S. O. Bs!"

"It's not happening at school, okay!" Quinn hissed, looking up and down the hallway to make sure everyone had gone to classes already and no one else was witnessing Puck's tantrum.

Puck stopped pacing, turning to look at her. He seemed confused, brow furrowed, and he finally asked, "Wait, what'd you say?"

Quinn replayed her outburst and inwardly cursed. She kept her face schooled as she calmly replied, "I just mean, no one at school is hurting me or anything. It's nothing you have to worry about. I burned myself with a curling iron."

"There is no fucking way that's a burn, it's not even the right color, that's a fucking bruise straight up! Don't even fucking lie if you can't come up with anything better!"

Quinn's lips tightened. Puck wasn't as dumb as he looked and considering he was on the football team maybe she shouldn't have tried to fool him about a bruise. "Fine. It's not a burn." She mulled over her options, then said, "It was just a shove, some kid mad about the crackdown at school, it's not a big deal. I bruise way too easy, you could hit me with a ripe peach and I'd be black and blue. Calm the fuck down."

But now Puck looked uncertain, scratching the back of his shaved head and frowning. "So- it was at school? Here?"

"Not a big deal."

Puck shook his head, paced a few more times, and then abruptly he punched a locker. The noise made Quinn jump and she had to take a step back. Puck looked back at her, breathing out, and then after a few seconds he said, "I'm gonna go for a smoke. You wanna come?"

"I don't smoke," Quinn replied, shocked by the offer but able to hide it.

"Yeah, well, you aren't going to class anyway, and neither am I. And I gotta keep an eye on you. So let's blow this popsicle stand."

Quinn snorted at the lame phrasing. She shook her head. "I don't go to class but I don't like leaving campus early. Makes me feel like I'm actually ditching."

"Oh, whatever, Pinkie, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Puck said with a chuckle. "Fine, where would you go?"

Quinn shrugged, not wanting to mention under the bleachers because the Skanks would be there still, probably, and bringing a girl into their space was one thing but bringing a guy was another, especially a guy like Puck. Especially now that she knew that Puck had slept with Mack. God, wasn't there a guy at this school she hadn't slept with? A slow smile crept across her face and she started to walk back the way they had come.

"Hey, where you going?"

"Are you coming or aren't you?" Quinn said with a mischievous laugh.

She led Puck to the roof exit stairs, putting a finger to her lips as they ascended. Quinn pulled out her library card and worked on jimmying the lock. She wasn't great at picking locks, but it was a skill she'd tried to master after getting locked in her room one too many times. The roof access door popped open, and the keypad next to it blinked. If she didn't punch in the right code a silent alarm would sound and make a janitor or security come running. Almost casually she punched in the right code and the pad blinked green.

"Whoa, holy shit, how do you know the code?" Puck whispered loudly behind her.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Quinn said cockily and she held the door open for the boy. The truth wasn't very interesting, really, her short-lived Captain crown had come with a notebook filled with Sue cheats, one of which being the access codes around the school so that Quinn could go wherever she pleased and not get into any trouble. There's no power without knowledge, Sue had informed an eager Quinn Fabray. Quinn had turned in her Cheerios uniform, but had kept the notebook for a while before discreetly putting it back into Sue's mailbox. Coach Sylvester hadn't said anything about it.

The sun was harsh on the nearly shade-less rooftop, so Quinn and Puck found a tall air conditioning vent and ducked behind it, Quinn claiming most of the little shadow that it provided. Puck didn't protest, squinting against the sun as they sat down, and he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Will anything happen if I breathe into the vent?" Puck asked, gesturing towards the opening with his slowly burning cigarette. "What if I took out a joint, would everyone in school get a contact high?"

"Don't be stupid," Quinn replied. "And keep far enough away from me that I don't stink after school, I can't go home smelling like tobacco. It's disgusting."

Puck shrugged and took a long drag before removing the cigarette from his mouth. Quinn watched him dubiously. "Doesn't Berry ride you about smoking? Isn't she worried you'll ruin your voice?"

"She does," Puck confirmed, taking another drag. After a minute he spoke again. "Look, I'm a footballer and a glee club member. If I was a Cheerio I'd be three for three at this school in 'popular' extracurriculars. Figgins tried to ask me to show some parents around the school who were thinking of moving to our district. Me. A Puckerman! I nearly smacked him before remembering that if I did I'd get suspended from glee and sports, and then I nearly smacked myself when I realized that the thought of getting suspended managed to stop me. My bad boy street cred is nearly worthless at this point. I gotta have a vice or two." He waved his cigarette around a little. Then he grumbled, rubbing a hand against his head. "It's probably more symbolic at this point, which is so lame. But at least I can claim something."

"I didn't even want to join the football team, but my mom wanted me to get some of my pent up aggression out and I was banned from the kickboxing team. I'm not interested in the complicated plays, Finn and Beiste get that. They always set me up against the biggest guy on the other team or at least the most tough, so I'm not going crazy out there."

"Whoa. That was such an overshare," Quinn said dryly, smirking.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" Puck said with a laugh. "But I mean, you must know something about pent up aggression. Breaking Ritter's nose."

Quinn's smirk faded. It always came back to that. If she'd known it would cause such a fuss she would have let Ritter do what he wanted.

… no, that wasn't true.

But she sure as shit wouldn't have told Rachel Berry.

"Whatever."

"Seriously though, you must have gotten in a good shot." He took another drag. "I woulda done more, though. I would have broken his arms and legs."

Quinn scoffed with disbelief.

"What, you don't believe I could? I so could, he wouldn't stand a chance." Puck sat up and puffed out his chest proudly.

Quinn shook her head. "I don't doubt that. Just, you wouldn't do that for Mack."

Puck looked honestly confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because she's The Mack. She's a Skank. She's slept with most of the guys at this school. You've even slept with her."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up," Puck said harshly, shaking his head like he was trying to dislodge her words. "What are you even saying?"

Quinn shrugged. "I'm saying that its pretty expected, and it isn't like she doesn't have a reputation."

"That's bullshit!" Puck yelled, and Quinn caught the movement as he scooped up a handful of roof gravel in time to flinch and duck behind an arm. The pebbles he threw at her ricocheted off her arm and shoulder and clattered back around her. She yelled angrily, but the yell faded on her lips at the look of pure outrage on his face.

"You think she was asking for it, huh? What the heck is wrong with you? She didn't deserve that! Mack is cool, man, and even if she wasn't, girls aren't just around for guys to paw at!"

"Says the guy doing most of the pawing," Quinn retorted, voice hoarse with contained frustration.

"I would never touch a girl without their permission!" At Quinn's incredulous look Puck swelled bigger with anger. "No, fuck you! Do you think every girl I've asked to sleep with me has slept with me? Do you think I never strike out? Of course I do! And that's fine, I move on! There are plenty of girls who want to sleep with me, I'm not about to go around forcing a girl! And I've been disappointed, sure, there are girls I'd fucking love to bone. But they say no, and that's that. Seriously, that's all. 'No' is a fucking answer, Fabray, and guys who don't know that are scum!"

Quinn pursed her lips but couldn't hold his gaze and looked away. Slowly she drew her legs against her chest and nestled her head against her knees, angled so that she was looking to the side and not straight at Puckerman.

Puck continued, "Just because Mack's got a rep doesn't mean she has to take anything. You've got a rep! Do you think you do?"

Quinn didn't reply, and the silence dragged on. Quinn heard Puck exhale, and then he said quietly, "Jesus, Fabray, you're one fucked up bitch."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Come on, Quinn, you can't think like that. Okay?" Quinn moved her head so she could see Puck's face, and he actually looked concerned. It made Quinn want to puke.

"Don't be a dick. It isn't as if people actually care."

Puck looked at her like she was crazy. "Are you kidding me? Do you think Rachel would be doing all this shit if she didn't care? She cares about everyone at this school, but this is all about you."

"She shouldn't," Quinn said softly.

Puck smiled at this. "I don't disagree, but Rachel does that."

"What, chases lost causes?"

"Sees people that think they're lost causes and gets them to know they're not."

Quinn wanted to correct him, but she didn't want him to keep looking at her with such pity.

Puck sighed, then he said, "You know, you aren't the first 'lost cause' she's gone after. Me, Santana, Karofsky, she'll help anyone."

"Santana?" Quinn was immediately alert and lifted her head up again.

"Yeah, end of freshman year and part of sophomore year San was a mess, about being in love with Brittany, you know?" Quinn's eyes widened in surprise. She'd just assumed that Santana had at last come to the realization she was in love with her best friend and asked Brittany out finally. She hadn't known Santana had been stressed about it. Puck nodded. "Yeah, she was really scared. The only thing I've ever seen her scared about. Rachel stuck with her, through tantrums and anger and everything. And when Santana's abuela rejected her after she was brave enough to come out, Santana was miserable. Rachel spent all her time with Santana and helped her out of it. Rachel never gave up on her."

Quinn found herself feeling gratitude towards Rachel, she knew that she would never have been able to do that for Santana. And Brittany… well, Brittany was the problem, and Santana would have taken much longer to come around if she'd only had Britt around to help her. Rachel had eased Santana's way, and Quinn was glad.

"I just don't want her to waste her time," Quinn whispered.

"She'll never think you're a waste of time," Puck replied with a shrug.

Quinn didn't say anything back. She uncurled from around herself and looked up at the sky. They'd gotten some cloud cover. Quinn started to strip off her sweater so she could use it as a pillow, wadding it up and tucking it under her and putting her hands between her head and the pile of cloth.

"Whoa, what the fuck?!"

Quinn shot back up, alarmed. Puck was staring at her. When she didn't seem to know what he was reacting to, he pointed to her arm. "You telling me that's from a shove?"

Quinn looked down and her stomach plummeted. A hand shaped bruise decorated her forearm. Quinn had forgotten all about it. She hadn't put makeup on to cover it because she'd planned to keep her sweater on all day and after using half her foundation on her neck it seemed unnecessary. Unnecessary only if she remembered to keep her sweater on. How could she be so stupid? Her dad was getting more careless about hurting her, so she needed to be more vigilant.

Puck was still staring at her, and his face had taken on a steely quality. She glared back at him to try to get him to back down but it didn't work. Finally he said, "So, not at school, huh?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Back in the hall, you said you didn't get hurt at school."

"I was lying!"

"No, you lied after." Puck leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, his cigarette dangling forgotten from his fingers. "… I didn't grow up with my dad. He was a total waste of space, and he ditched my mom after my sister was born. I only saw him a couple times after, and I'm glad. He was a drunk, a mean drunk, and one of the only times I saw him after he left he smacked me for scuffing his shoe by accident."

Quinn eyed Puck warily, unsure of where this was going.

Puck put out the dying embers of his cigarette on the gravel floor. He looked back at her and his eyes were soft. "You got a 'mean drunk' dad?"

Quinn's mind was whirling a mile a minute, and she saw her out. "I avoid him," she said gruffly, shrugging one shoulder. "It isn't any big deal, I just stay out of his way. He doesn't hit me, got it?" That at least was true. Quinn's dad never hit her.

Puck nodded and Quinn felt a wave of relief wash over her. If he only thought that her dad shoved her around when he was drunk, Quinn could work with that.

Puck scratched his chin thoughtfully, then stood. "Come on, get up."

"Why?" Quinn asked suspiciously.

"Get up and you'll see."

Hesitantly Quinn stood. Puck fell into a fighting position and Quinn took a step back. Puck took a step toward her. "No, put up your hands, like this." He bobbed his closed fists. Slowly, Quinn obliged.

"I'm gonna teach you how to fight. Just little stuff. In case your dad forgets what he's doing and really tries to hurt you."

Quinn let her hands drop, she was that startled. Puck motioned for her to lift her hands back up again and she did. She'd never learned out to fight before. Sure, she knew how to fight, but it was more wild flailing anger, like Santana had shown her. This was controlled. Proper fighting. Quinn grinned. She wouldn't use it against her dad, but heck, it was good to know.

Puck started to show her some basic things. Halfway through Quinn said, "Don't tell anyone. Don't tell Rachel."

Puck nodded.

Shorter chapter than normal, sorry about that. I was going to post this yesterday as a Valentine's gift, but then I realized there isn't any Faberry in it, or even secondary Brittana, and I thought it would be weird to upload a chapter with Quinn and Puck fighting ninety percent of the time, so I left it for today. Next chapter isn't going to have much Quinn and Rachel interaction either, unfortunately, but the ending of the chapter should have a little.

Also I love Fabang.