Hey, sorry for being the worst updater ever. I'm just trying to write my Bachelor-essay and work part-time and you know, have a life. Thank you for having patience with me."

He didn't say anything. She didn't either. Santana kept going on and on about how great this was. About how they should celebrate, drink champagne, maybe do drugs because this was a once in a lifetime. He looked at her. She looked at him. He wanted to kiss her and he wanted to yell at her. Why was she here? Why had she come here with suitcases? Was this her changing her mind?

"Say something" Santana urged them.

"I'm sorry" Quinn said, her voiced sounded frail. "I forgot. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."

He stared at her. This wasn't her way of saying that she had left Henry for him. She had forgotten that he would be here. He wanted to scream at her that that wasn't fair. He wanted to shake her. And kiss her. He did nothing. Just leaned back against the brick wall behind him for support.

"You forgot Puck was here?" Santana asked.

"I… I was… I just moved out… I forgot. I'm sorry."

She had been crying. He could see it on the redness of her eyes. Had Henry hurt her? Had he dumped her? Why had she been crying? He didn't ask.

"Oh" Santana said. "Oh. But… It's fine. We were just going out to eat dinner. Do you want to come?"

Of course she didn't. Puck turned his face away in bitterness. He hated New York. Hated it. Hated her. Loved her.

"No. I need to get some work done and… Look, I'll call you tomorrow" Quinn said.

She picked up her bags again. They seemed heavy. Where was she going? Back to him?

"Where are you going?" Santana asked. "Look, if you need somewhere to crash, I'm sure-"
"I'll figure it out" Quinn said.

She was wearing her work clothes but no makeup and her hair was down. It brushed her shoulders. She looked something between his Quinn, the one from Rachel's lake house, and Henry's Quinn. Now she was neither, he guessed.

"Call me tomorrow" Santana ordered.

Quinn nodded and disappeared. He could hear her bags banging against the stone steps on her way down the stairs. He could hear the door open and close. She was gone again. Santana smiled. She approached Puck and shook him lightly.

"She left him, Puck" she said

"Not for me."
"No, but… Still."

"No, but nothing. She forgot I was here."

It felt like another rejection. Another time she was decided to go on with her life, but first letting him get a glimpse of what he was missing. Despite being with Santana, his friend, Puck just wanted to go out and drink and be stupid. He wanted to do something stupid. Maybe punch someone.

"Breathe" Santana said, patting his shoulder.

He hadn't even noticed that he had been holding his breath. He let it go slowly until his lungs were empty.

"I wished that I had stayed in Detroit" he said.

Santana shook her head.

"Don't ever say that."

"Nothing about Detroit reminded me of her. Here, she is everywhere."

"No" Santana said. "She's not. Let's go out. I'll show you a hundred streets that she has never been on. I promise."
Puck nodded, as that would help. He put on a fresh t-shirt and washed his face with ice cold water in the bathroom. Through the door, he could hear Santana tell Rachel over the phone what had just happened.

"No, I have no idea where she went" she said. "I don't think she knows anyone else. Maybe someone from work?"
Puck turned the tap on so that the sound of rushing water overpowered Santana's worries.

…

Quinn stood on the street for a long time until she could find another cab. She didn't know what address to give to the driver. She wished that she had more friends. Any friends. Any friends that weren't also Puck's friends.

"Just… head for the Upper West Side" she said.

Kitty Wilde. It was the only person she knew and Quinn didn't even know the address to apartment where she lived. She texted her and Kitty replied with many exclamation marks that if Quinn didn't bothered being cramped into one bedroom, she was welcome.

"I'm so glad you texted" Kitty exclaimed, hugging her tightly.

She took her up into the small room she let from a family her father knew. There was just room for a small air mattress on the floor. Quinn felt too old for a mattress on the floor in someone else's room. Living in a comfortable apartment must have ruined her.

"What happened?" Kitty asked, as Quinn pumped air into the plastic fabric that she would be sleeping on.

"I… I guess I left my boyfriend."

She realized that the joy she had felt as she had stormed into Santana's apartment was gone. She was sad about that. She wanted to be happy about being free. Now, she instead wished to be back where she had been safe.

"Your older boyfriend?"
"That's the one."

Kitty stared at her in horror and shock. And maybe admiration.

"Why?"

"I… didn't love him" Quinn said. "Or no, that's not true. I did love him, but not in the way you're supposed to love the person you're spending your life with."
Kitty still looked appalled. She must really be in love with Mr. Park. That would never end well.

"You just… walked out?"

"No" Quinn said, panting as pumping the mattress was actually quite hard work. "It's been going on for a while. Maybe a long while without me realizing it."

She pressed the palm of hand against the top of the mattress. It was firm enough. Her arms ached. She really needed to join a gym or something.

"Well, good for you" Kitty exclaimed. "Us single ladies should stick together."

"What about your boss?"
"Oh, it's casual, you know."

"Oh."

Quinn looked around the small room. How long could she stay here? One night? Maybe two. Where would she go there? Where would she find an apartment of her own?

"Not that I mind you being here" Kitty said. "but you aren't you staying with Santana or Rachel?"

"Puck's there."

"Noah Puckerman?"
"Yes. He moved to New York today, actually."

"Is it too crowded with him already staying there?"

Kitty knew nothing. It was liberating and strange at the same time. Quinn would have to explain the entire situation to her if she wanted to tell the truth. And she didn't.

"Something like that" she said.

"We should go out and celebrate" Kitty said, just like Santana had. "Let me grab my coat."

"It's fine. It's already eight."

"It's not every day you get to break up with the guy who once was your teacher" Kitty blinked. "No excuses."

They found a restaurant a few blocks away. Quinn broke her rule and ordered wine. And then another glass. She couldn't decide if she was drinking because she was upset about Henry or about Puck. Maybe that was her problem.

…

She ended up being late for work. She was never late for work. Mr. Lewis yelled at her for fifteen minutes which made her even more behind. She mumbled something breaking up with her boyfriend and moving out, which he ignored. The other guys in the office had heard, though, and wouldn't stop bringing it up.

"You single now?" Mark asked, rolling his chair over so that he sat just inches away from her.

"Leave me alone."

"Come on, Fabray. Now you don't have an excuse. Let's go out."

"You're wrong" she sighed, not looking away from her computer screen. "I still have an excuse. You're gross."

The other guys laughed. Mark did too. She didn't understand how he been able to get into Stanford and get a job here since he clearly an idiot.

"Just a drink" he went on. "And then go to my place."

He reached out and touched her neck. She flinched and swiveled around to stare at him. He was in his early thirties, with dark hair and expensive suit. He had a nice education and evidently a good job. He was the kind of guy she was supposed to end up with. Not her college professor. And not her high school boyfriend. Too bad that she hated him.

"You're too pretty to be alone" he whispered.

"God, do you even listen to yourself?" she spat. "The only excuse I could have for saying no to you is if I have a boyfriend? To respect some kind of man code or what?"

He shrugged, grinning. He probably thought that she was flirting.

"So that I find you repelling isn't a valid excuse?"
The guys laughed again. Mark kept smiling. She gave up and plugged in her head phones. All she had to listen to was classic music and jazz that Henry had put on her phone. She wanted rock or pop or anything from the 21st century. She bought a Lady Gaga album in iTunes. It reminded her of glee. Of wearing a big, pink dress on it and being pregnant. Of dancing around in the auditorium with people she pretended to hate. She didn't hear Mr. Lewis speaking to her until he shook her shoulder.

"Quinn?" he barked. "No head phones in the office. How many times have I told you that?"
None, she thought, since she had never used them at work before.

"Sorry, Mr. Lewis" she said.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked. "You turn up late? You disobey my rules?"

"Nothing" she said. "I'm sorry."

"You're distracted" he went on, like he hadn't heard her speak. "You told that you would answer my every call when you were on vacation but you didn't."

He pronounced the word vacation as if it was the name of a terrible disease.

"I'm sorry" she said, again.

He sighed. Would she get fired? She almost hoped that she would.

"No headphones at work" he repeated.

"Got it" she said.

She didn't listen to anymore music all day but in her head, she heard that song over and over.

…

"Are you disappointed?" Santana asked.

"No, of course not" he replied.

He couldn't be, it would be unfair. He had just had this picture in his head that being in New York would be like the week in LA. That he and Santana would drink beer and do cheap tourist things. That he would be constantly entertained, more or less.

"I'm sorry I have to work so much" she said. "It's just… I want to audition for as many things as I can now before the fall. I mean, if my show doesn't get picked up."
"It will" he soothed her. "And I'm not disappointed."

It wasn't worse than Detroit. He still get to spend the mornings with Santana before she went to auditions and then later to her play. Rachel had already moved out, like Santana had been expecting she had more or less just waited for Santana to find another roommate. Most of the time, he was alone. It was fine, really, it just was that he had had this picture in his head of what New York would be and right now, it wasn't living up to it.

"You could go to the Zoo" Santana suggested. "Or Time Sqaure or to Coney Island."
"I will" he said.

He wanted to. He just didn't feel like doing it by himself. He was sick of being alone. He was actually sick of himself.

"We'll do something on Saturday" she promised.

"Great" he said.

"We'll get Rachel to make us brunch in her new apartment and then go to Coney Island. How about that? It's super pretty in the summer."

"You don't have to take care of me" he reminded him.

"I know" she said. "But I was the one who forced you to move here."

"You didn't force me."

They didn't speak about Quinn much. Puck heard Santana talking to her on the phone sometimes. The walls here were paper thin. He knew that she was staying someone that Santana was surprised about. Maybe it was Henry? No. She wouldn't go back to him just because she didn't have a place to stay. Santana didn't seem to tell Quinn things about him either. He was relieved and insulted. Couldn't she at least have asked how he was settling in?

"Do you want to go and see Rachel's show?" Santana asked. "She could get you tickets. Like, really nice tickets."

"Haven't you seen it like a hundred times?"

She smiled.

"Yeah, more or less. But it's fun."

"I'll ask her on Saturday."

Today, his plan was to laundry. He had only been here a week and most of his clothes were still clean, but he needed something to do. He would make lunch too. Maybe take a walk. Drink NYC coffee. It wasn't too bad. It would just be better if had someone to do it with.

…

…

After two weeks of Quinn living in Kitty's cramped room, Santana called Quinn in the middle of day. She pretended it was a business call (they were not allowed to take personal calls during work hours) and answered it. Two months ago, she would never have dared to do it. Now, she didn't really care what happened.

"It got picked up" Santana shrieked. "Can you believe it?"
"Your show?"
Mark raised his eyebrows at her. He probably realized that she wasn't talking about work. She ignored him.

"She ignored him.

"Yes!" Santana screamed in the same high pitched voice. "Yes!"
"That's amazing!"

"I know! I know! I'm going to fly out to LA again in two weeks to film two more episodes."

"Wow. This is so great, San."

Mark mouthed the word San at her and winked. She spun her chair around the face the other direction.

"I'm having a party. Tonight. You have to come."
"Tonight? It's a Wednesday."

"I know, but it's my only free evening this week and any way, I'm too excited to wait until the weekend."

"I have work in the morning."

"Come on, you always have work. Call in sick. Or whatever."

"I can't really do that."

"Please" Santana scoffed. "This isn't about work. It's about Puck."

"It's not."

"I'll invite a bunch of people. You don't have to talk to him."
"That sounds festive; ignoring the only person you will know."

"Rachel will be there too. And I will. Come on, Q. You can't let your own messy relationship ruin my mood."

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you tonight then" Santana told her. "Wear something nice and I'll set you up with Thomas from my play. And bring wine. Tons of it."

"Fine" Quinn sighed. "Hey, San?"
"Yeah."

"I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks."

She hung up the phone and turned her chair back to face her desk. Most of the office landscape was ogling her. She ignored them; pretending to type something important on her computer.

"No leisure calls during business hours" Mark taunted her.

"Shut up."

"What's happened to you, Fabray?" he asked. "You seem to be bending all the rules around here now."
"Nope" she snapped. "I will still not date a co-worker. Sorry."

…

In the end, she chickened out and brought Kitty with her. She was a good buffer since she didn't know any of Santana's friends either. At least Quinn would be able to talk to her if she felt lonely. They spent an hour fighting over Kitty's tiny mirror. Quinn tried red lipstick and then rubbed it off. All her clothes were wrinkled from being packed up in a suitcase. She was forced to borrow something of Kitty's and picked the least pink thing, a purple sleeveless dress. It made her feel like she was sixteen again. She hadn't worn anything with ruffles since those days.

"My first New York party" Kitty said excitedly.

"Mine too" Quinn admitted.

"Haven't you lived here for live forever?"

"More or less."

They took the subway to Brooklyn. Kitty had never been there. They bought three bottles of cheap red wine at a local liquor store. Quinn took two gulps of it before they entered the apartment. She was sweating, she realized. It was hot, but not that hot.

"Quinn!"

Santana was already drunk. She hugged Quinn hard and kissed her cheek. Quinn handed her two of the wine bottles.

"I brought Kitty" she said.

"Kitty Wilde!" Santana grinned. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Thanks?" Kitty replied.

The apartment was filled people. Artsy people mostly, smoking hand-rolled cigarettes and wearing hats (it was summer, for Christ's sake) and listening some kind of lame Jazz music. Some of them seemed to be Rachel's friends too. They wore more colorful clothes and seemed to hate the music as much as Quinn did. Quinn spotted Rachel with some guy in the kitchen and brought Kitty over her to her.

"Rachel" she said. "Hi."

Rachel looked away from the guy. Quinn thought that she remembered him from the show. Was he the male lead?

"Quinn! You made it."

"Yes and I brought Kitty."

They exchanged awkward hugs as Quinn looked around the apartment. She couldn't spot Puck. There weren't many walls in this apartment, he should be easy to find. Where was he?

"Let's toast for Santana" Rachel said, handing Kitty and Quinn each a glass of sparkling wine.

They toasted. Quinn let the two of them talk and continued to look around. She found Santana, smoking one of those gross cigarettes and dancing to the weird music. Where was Puck?

"He went out for more beer" Rachel whispered in her ear.

"What? Who?"
"Puck. He'll be back soon."
"Oh."

"Just so you know."

"Thanks."
Rachel and Kitty continued to talk. Rachel loved telling new people about her rise to Broadway elite and Kitty listened with her mouth open. Quinn tried to pay attention but kept her eyes on the front door. She needed to be prepared. He could walk through that door at any minute.

…

Puck hadn't minded the party at first; mostly because he was proud of Santana and also, because he was kind of bored. It was nice to have something happen. Now, he was already sick of it. He didn't know anyone. He wasn't used to that. And he knew next to nothing about the things that Santana's friends kept discussing. Therefore, when the beer had run out, he had volunteered to get more and when he stood outside the door, he considered not going back in. However, in honesty, he had nowhere else to go and walked in. He saw her immediately. She wore a frilly dress and was drinking red wine out of a champagne glass. His stomach turned over.

"Puck!"

The girl next to Quinn was yelling at him. He didn't know who she was. Or did she? Shit. It was Kitty Wilde. What was she doing here? He didn't have a change to find out before she had flung her arms around him.

"God, it's been so long" she shrieked. "You look so good."

"Thanks" he mumbled against her hair. "You too."

She finally let go of him.. Rachel took the beer from him and stuck it in the fridge. Quinn kept sipping wine, looking anywhere but at him.

"God, Puck. You're in town now! That's so great" Kitty went on.

She kept looking him up and down. He knew what that meant. He had already gone down the road once before. (Had there been a single girl at McKinley he hadn't gone down that certain road with?)

"Yeah" he replied. "You too. What are you doing here?"
He really meant the party but she interpreted as in New York.

"I work as an assistant at a law firm. That's how I met Quinn!"

"Oh. That's… great."
Quinn finally looked at him. Her cheeks were flushed. It was hot, but not that hot.

"Hi" she said softly.

"Hi" he replied.

"Quinn and I share a room" Kitty went on.

"Really?" Puck asked.

"Yes, she just broke up with her boyfriend. Didn't you know?"

"Right" he said. "And she moved in with you?"

"Didn't have much choice" Quinn mumbled quietly, smiling.

Kitty didn't seem to hear her. She kept going on about the room they shared and how she had felt alone in New York before and blablabla. No one was listening to her. Rachel was talking to that guy Stephen again and he could tell that Quinn was ignoring Kitty's voice.

"You want some wine?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She gave him the bottle and he placed it to his mouth, drinking until his mouth was filled with disgusting red wine.

"I could have gotten you a glass" she said.

"It's fine."

"It's nice to see you" she said.

He almost believed her.

"You too" he replied.

He almost believed himself.

…

They hadn't spoken since saying goodbye on the driveway of the lake house. And suddenly, there was so much he wanted to tell her. To say to her. To ask her.

"Living with Kitty, huh" was all he managed to say.

Quinn smiled. Her teeth were blue. The wine must have been really, really cheap.

"I didn't have many other options."

"How are you coping?"

"Not very well, actually. She redoes to her nail every night. The room smells like Acetone for hours afterwards" she sighed. "How about you? How do you like New York?"

They were doing it. Conversing like grown up. He was proud of them.

"It's fine."

"Fine? I've never heard anyone described New York as fine."

"I haven't seen much" he admitted. "San's always at work or auditions and I don't really want to do it alone."
"I see. Maybe Kitty could go with you. She seemed happy to see you."

"No" he replied, smiling. "I think I'll rather sit in this apartment and play internet poker all by myself."

Santana appeared between them. Her eyes were cloudy with booze. She kissed them both on the mouth.

"My babies" she called them, slurring heavily.

"Thanks" Puck replied.

"Soon we'll all be unemployed" she slurred on. "I quit my play today. I'm going to Hollywood!"

"Who else is without a job?" Quinn asked.

Santana was too drunk to listen. She went on to kiss some guy on the cheek and call him her bunny.

"Rachel's show is ending" Puck told her. "She just heard. That's why she moved in with that guy, Stephen. They weren't allowed to date when the show was going on but now, since its ending anyway, she decided not to care."

"Rachel's dating?"
"Yeah, pretty seriously it seems."

"Wow. I haven't seen her with anyone since…"

"Finn" he filled in. "I know."

Finn. She blushed. He too thought of their fight after his death. The fight that had ruined everything really.

"Well, good for her" he said.

"Right" she agreed.

They toasted for Rachel's love.

"I'm probably going to be unemployed too soon" Quinn said.

"What?"

"I hate it. My job. I told you that, right?"

"Yeah."

"I hate it even more now. I can't stand it."

"Good for you. Quit. You'll find something else."

"Being without an income doesn't really give you the opportunity to find an apartment though" she sighed. "Luckily, Kitty loves having a roommate."
He laughed. It was going so well. Unbelievably well. He just had to stop drinking now. If he got drunk, he would probably try to fight with her. Or kiss her.

"If you're unemployed, you could show me the city" he said and immediately bit his tongue.

He had ruined it. He had taken it too far. But she only laughed, flashing her blue teeth.

"You're asking the wrong person" she said. "I've lived here for years and I don't even think I've been to Central Park more than once or twice."
"Wow."

"Yeah, I've lived an exciting life."

She smiled at him. Shit. He wanted to be mad at her. It was so much easier to be pissed at her. He shouldn't have talked to her. It had only reminded him of how much he loved her.

…

The evening turned into night but Quinn couldn't make herself go home. She didn't want to. She was sick of being responsible. She almost wanted to be hung over at work. Most of the people had left. Kitty had fallen asleep on Puck's bed. Rachel and Stephen were kissing on the couch. Santana and Puck were still leaning against the kitchen counter. Quinn joined them.

"It's all because of you" Santana told her. "You got me this deal. I'm shooting for three days for the second episode and three days for the third. I'm actually going to be on TV."

"I'll enjoy seeing an almost thirty year old woman playing a virginal sixteen year old" Puck teased.

"I hope you get a boyfriend on the show" Quinn said. "It's been so long since I saw kiss a boy."

Santana rolled her eyes at them.

"Idiots" she sighed. "You mock my break-through?"

"Never" Quinn said. "We're so proud."

Someone, thankfully, had changed the music so that the stereo now played soft rock music. Quinn found her singing along to the lyrics. She felt… fine. Content, almost.

"You want to sleep over?" Santana asked.

"No, it's fine. I have to get Kitty home."
"Puck can handle her. She's already asleep in his bed" Santana said and winked.

"No thanks" he said.

"Why not?" Santana pressed on. "I thought blondes were your type."

Quinn held her breath. Puck exhaled.

"Not anymore."
It was like a blow to the stomach. Not anymore. Not that she had… no, she wasn't even going to think it. It was good. Yes, they had both moved on. That was why they had been able to speak so freely before. She should be happy.

"I thought blondes were your type too, San" she said quickly. "You could probably try with Kitty. She'll be better off with you than her gross boss."

Santana seemed to be considering it but then shrugged.

"I'm going to LA" she said. "I'll find hot lesbian actor girls there."
They stood in silence for a while. The content feeling had left Quinn. She felt antsy. And sad. And worried about work tomorrow.

"I have to leave" she sighed. "I have work in… three hours."

"Call in sick."

"It's not the kind of job you can call in sick to."
"Crappy job" Santana said.

"In almost every way."

Quinn tried to way Kitty but it was impossible. In the end, she left her there. In Puck's bed. That wasn't weird at all. She took the subway to Kitty's room, had a quick shower and brushed her teeth. She was still drunk when she got into work. No one noticed. It was both a relief and disheartening that no one noticed how good she usually was at her job.

…

Maybe it was because she was hung-over. Or maybe she should have snapped any way. It didn't matter really. Mr. Lewis asked her into his room. She was ready for a rant about her lack of work ethic, instead he kissed her.

"What are you doing?" she spat, pushing him away with all the force she had.

She backed away until she could rest her back against the office door. Her boss looked disheveled and… shocked. Had he never been turned down before?

"I'm sorry" he said, but he didn't seem very sad. "I heard that you broke up with your… older partner."

"Yeah, so?"
"And you've been very clear about how you don't like Mark Johnson in that way."

"Yet again" she snapped. "So?"

"I thought older men were your thing."

She made a gagging noise which made Mr. Lewis flinch with disgust.

"I'm out" she said.

"Out of what?"
"I'm quitting. Resigning. Whatever it is called."

"Ms. Fabray, let's talk about this…"

"I'm sick of this job. I'm sick of being sexualized and I'm sick of corporate law and all of it. God, I hate it."
Mr. Boss raised both his eyebrows at her in dislike. She didn't care. God, she really did hate him. He had made her life hell, calling her even on her vacation and then he had felt that he had the right to kiss her? He was worse than Mark. Worse than Mr. Park even.

"You can't just leave" he ordered her. "You are in charge of the Netson case."

"Give it to Mark" she snapped back at him. "It's what you always do in the end anyway."

"Don't speak to me like that."

"Don't try to kiss me then."

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her. She found the few personal things she had brought to work; an umbrella, two snickers bars for emergencies and her briefcase. Someone, maybe Mark, tried to stop her but she ignored him. She even took the stairs instead of the elevator since she couldn't stand just standing there waiting for it whilst everyone watched. When she reached the street level and sweltering Manhattan heat, she began to cry and didn't stop until she had eaten three brownies at the counter of the nearest Starbucks. What was she going to do now?

…

"I'm taking you up on that offer."

Puck opened his eyes slowly. What was going on?

"What?" he muttered.

His entire room was filled with sunshine. His head pounded. He had done with hung-overs now, he decided. This was the last one.

"I'm taking you up on that offer."

Quinn. He recognized her voice before his eyes had adjusted well enough to see her. She was wearing her business clothes, that skirt and that blazer, but her hair was loose and she had been crying, he could tell. Or her eyes were just really red.

"What offer?" he asked, sitting up.

He wasn't wearing a shirt. It had been too hot last night to even think of wearing one. Or even a blanket it seemed. She wasn't looked at his chest or any other part of his body, she was just looking into his eyes. She looked rather crazed.

"To show you New York, or rather, see it with you."

"Is everything okay?"

"No, not really, but I don't want to talk about it yet. Can't we go somewhere? Cony Island? Central Park? Oh, we could go on one of those cruises on the Hudson River."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Okay. Let me just get dressed then."

"Me too" she sighed. "I'm so hot. I'll go find something of Santana's."

He grinned.

"Good luck."

He went into the bathroom and turned the shower settings to freezing. His head didn't seem as heavy anymore but he took an Aspirin anyway. He shaved his face carefully and used one of Santana's more masculine smelling shower gels. This was crazy, he thought. Why was he agreeing to this? Why was agreeing to spend more time with her when it always ended with him hating himself and her? What was the point?

"You ready?" she called from the living room.

"A minute" he called back.

Because he loved, of course. That was the point. It was all but enough. He could never say no to her. He would do anything to be with her, even walk around in a 100 degree heat whilst having a hang-over. It was that simple.

"That's a big change" he told her.

She was wearing one of Santana's mini-denim skirts and a white t-shirt. It was a very Santana outfit but not a Quinn one. She smiled at his comment.

"At least I'm using a bra underneath" she said. "Santana's doesn't."

He didn't comment on the bra thing. It seemed to be going too far right now.

"Where to then?" he asked.

"Don't you want breakfast?"

"Yeah, sure. Are you hungry?"
She smiled again. White teeth now. She must have brushed away the blue.

"Not really, actually, I feel kind of sick, but I'll have soda. Let's find a diner. Okay?"
"Okay" he agreed.

…