Chapter 2
Disclaimer: Nothing except the plot belongs to me.
AN: Disregard the end of the Hairography episode (which made me slightly die inside). Remember, this story started the day of Glee's performance of "Lean on Me."
Used to be known with the penname of yummy food.
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After observing her arms wrapped around her petite frame, Puck took it as a sign of vulnerability and chills, and because he wasn't completely oblivious to charming women, he took off his beloved letterman jacket for her and stuck it out for her to take. She lowered his arm, looked at him with a look of surprise and arched her eyebrow in the way he could never resist. This time though, he was determined and insisting, so he just shrugged his shoulders as nonchalantly as possible, smirking when she grabbed it a bit too quickly.
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Quinn stared at the letterman jacket in her possession and bit the inside of her cheek to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She was holding Noah Puckerman's letterman jacket – one of his most prized possessions that he let no one touch. She remembered the time when a freshman accidentally spilled one drop of soda on it last year; Puck had growled and thrown him into an open locker. Now he had actually offered it to her, and she was justifiably speechless. As she started to shiver again though, she hurriedly put it on, reveling in its warmth and his distinct cologne. Realizing what exactly she was doing, Quinn blushed, thankful for the shadows of the truck, and buckled her seat belt, giving Puck a quick nod to signify she was ready to go.
As Puck drove off, Quinn realized that she had no clue where they were going. She had simply asked him to pick her up and get her away from everything wrong in her life. Now Puck was driving to who knows what sketchy place, and she was a bit scared. She would have opened her mouth to voice her concern, but she found that she trusted Puck. He had never given her any real reason not to trust him, and the silence in the car was oddly comforting and relaxing. She leaned back deeper in the seat, and let her body rest.
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Puck watched her closely from the corner of his eye as she slowly loosened up and drifted off to sleep. She looked so calm and small in his front seat, and as her hair fell over her eyes, it took every ounce of control he had in his body not to brush it aside and feel her silky warm skin under his fingertips. Instead, he focused on the bumpy road, trying to make the ride as smooth as possible for the sleeping girl.
After driving for a while, with his truck running low on gas, Puck decided it was time to drive toward a destination. He couldn't keep circling around Ohio just so she didn't wake when they arrived at the end of the drive. Finally decided, Puck continued to drive slowly, well under the speed limit. He chuckled to himself at the thought, who would have ever guessed he would be driving under the speed limit.
Stopped at a red light, Puck turned once more to observe Quinn and genuinely smiled. Seeing her engulfed in his letterman jacket looking so carefree was too much. He gently brushed aside a strand of hair, reveling in the satisfied feeling that coursed through his body.
The light turned green, and Puck went.
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Quinn was vaguely conscious about everything happening around her but still sleeping. She noticed the car stop as a hand moved her hair away from her face. For that she was thankful since it was tickling her nose. The hand eventually left, and she found that she missed the slight warmth and pressure. As the car started again, she fell into a deeper sleep.
It was when the truck hit the curb that Quinn stirred. She hazily heard the sound of shifting gears and the engine dying. She struggled to open her eyes, but when she heard a slight rustling and felt her seat belt unbuckling itself, she halted her fight, letting her world remain dark. As she felt herself being carefully lifted out the car, she was pleased with her choice.
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Puck painstakingly carried Quinn from his truck, cursing as he realized he should have unlocked the door to the house first. If he placed Quinn down to get the door, he could wake her in either the setting down or picking up. If he tried to get the door with Quinn in his arms, though she was light, the shifting would probably wake her. Then he saw his mom shutting the door as she left for her night shift, and he quickened his pace toward her.
When his mom saw him with a sleeping girl in his arms, to say she was just surprised was an understatement. He simply shrugged and inclined his head toward the door. Shaking her head and giving him a don't-even look, his mom quietly opened the door and switched on the lights.
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As she was being held in Puck's arms, Quinn suddenly sensed another presence. Her intuition was confirmed as she heard the quiet whispers around her. That's her isn't it? Mom… So it was Puck's mom. Quinn stayed still and silent as she continued to listen to the hushed conversation around her.
She's the reason isn't it? What reason, Mom? The reason you started working so hard recently. No, Mom. Ok, Noah, but I want you to know, if she's the reason that you've changed, I don't give a damn whether or not she's Jewish – welcome any time under any circumstances. Fine, you said any circumstances. Yes, I did, and I have to go. Bye, Mom. Love you. Love you too.
Quinn's mind was reeling as the door shut. Sure, she had noticed Puck looking more and more tired recently when she saw him at all, but she had no idea it would be connected to hard work.
Quinn snuggled herself closer to Puck's chest.
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As he ascended the stairs, Puck felt Quinn move further into his arms, and so he held her just that much tighter.
Arriving at his room, Puck labored in vain at the door, trying to open it without disturbing Quinn. When he was just about to give up and sit down at the door with her sleeping form undisturbed in his lap, Quinn's arms found their way around one of his, which enabled him to quickly shift his weight, supporting Quinn with one bicep, open the door, and revert to his original holding position.
He tenderly placed her on his bed and covered her with his plain black cotton sheets. He briefly considered joining her but decided against it. He had no clue how she would react, and the last thing he wanted was her to be mad at him. Sighing, he ran his hand through his Mohawk. It was times like these where he wished he had kept his unruly hair, just so he could pull it in frustration.
He left his room with the small couch in mind. He hadn't been able to sleep on that thing since he was ten. It was going to be a long night.
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Quinn was momentarily surprised and terrified as she realized Puck was holding her up with just one arm. Then as the storm passed without as much as a raindrop, she wondered at the strength of Puck. When she felt herself being torn away from her sense of security for seemingly no reason, Quinn let out a small whimper. As she felt herself being lowered onto a soft surface however, she understood the situation. Still, she wished that she didn't need to leave his arms to get in bed, and at that thought, her conscience unexpectedly let it slide – she was having enough thoughts about Puck anyways.
As she listened to the door closing, Quinn cracked open one eye. Not seeing Puck, she tried to suppress the disappointment that he wasn't staying with her. She laid back down and stared at the ceiling. It was going to be a long night.
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Puck couldn't sleep. His back hurt, and more than three-quarters of his legs weren't on the damn sofa. He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. Eyes searching for something quiet to do, Puck remembered Quinn's bag in his truck and left to retrieve it.
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Quinn heard the front door open and close, and she imagined Puck leaving to go find Santana – a little bile rose in her mouth. He wouldn't; he couldn't. Still, she found herself uneasy with every second that went by with no Puck.
When she heard the door again and didn't sense Santana or anything else, Quinn felt slightly better and silly for overreacting. Puck wasn't hers…unfortunately.
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Puck was freezing. The walk to his pick-up and back was brutal without his jacket. Still, he'd rather die frostbitten than have anything happen to Quinn and his baby girl.
Trying to warm his hands, Puck took in the size and weight of Quinn's bag. She had a lot of homework and definitely wasn't going to be able to finish any of it. He found some paper and a pen, bent down over the coffee table, and got to work.
Twenty minutes later, Puck leaned back against the couch, satisfied and impressed with his accomplishments. There before him was a stack of notes that could last Quinn a lifetime. On each one, he had written some sort of believable, excusable reason why Quinn's homework was unfinished. The handwriting on it of course, was adult-like beyond belief. After all, he did have all those years to perfect his mom's. The signatures he made with extra swoops but illegible all the same. The notes were great.
Placing them on the corner of the table, Puck sighed. He was still tired from all his work. He had just gotten off work and started napping when Quinn had called. Still, the manual labor of lifting tiles had paid off for his muscles.
Puck tilted his head against the couch, trying to sleep. After a good five minutes of failing, he kicked the table in anger. He was bored and tired. His homework was already haphazardly done, and the TV would be too loud and wake Quinn.
Quinn. There was no harm in checking on her, right? He went upstairs and quietly observed the figure on his bed. Content with the conditions of the room, he prepared to head downstairs (he wasn't going to be one of those creepy guys who stared at girls all the time while they slept) when his eyes caught sight of his guitar. Of course. He had forgotten all about it with everything going on in his life. He quickly grabbed it and started downstairs, already humming and lightly strumming.
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Quinn heard the stairs creaking and gripped Puck's jacket and sheets a little firmer, a little nearer. What if it was a robber? Her poor baby…
As light filtered in from the hallway into the room though, Quinn realized that it was just Puck coming to check on her. She watched Puck through half-lidded eyes, eyes roaming over his body from head to toe. When he stopped leaning on the door frame and stepped inside the room, Quinn's hopes rose. Maybe, just maybe, he would lie next to her.
As she saw him go to his guitar though, the sentiment of discontentment flooded her system once again, only to be rapidly replaced by intrigue and desire. She wanted to hear his voice again. Last time in Glee when he sang Sweet Caroline, she had sat on her chair absolutely mesmerized.
The guitar and Puck's voice barely made its way to her ears, tempting her.
She made up her mind and surreptitiously made her way down the stairs, standing a couple steps from the bottom to listen.
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Puck smiled as he played the chords and rhythm. He had missed the feeling of holding and singing with his guitar. He paused briefly, debating which song to sing and practice. He fooled around with the strings until Train's Soul Sister made its way through his mind.
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Heeey heeeey heeeeey
Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left side brains
I knew I wouldn't forget you
And so I went and let you blow my mind
Your sweet moonbeam
The smell of you in every single dream I dream
I knew when we collided you're the one I have decided
Who's one of my kind
Puck loved this song for Quinn. True, not all the lyrics were relatable, but the ones that were held true. For days after his night with Quinn, all he could think about was the feel of her skin, her eyes, her enticing smell.
Hey soul sister, ain't that mister mister on the radio, stereo
The way you move ain't fair you know
Hey soul sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you do tonight
Heeey heeeey heeeey
Just in time, I'm so glad you have a one track mind le me
You gave my life direction
A game show love connection, we can't deny
I'm so obsessed
My heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest
I believe in you, like a virgin, you're Madonna
And I'm always gonna wanna blow your mind
Both Puck and Quinn shared a smile at the Madonna line, remembering the time when Puck had to step in for Finn at a babysitting session, and Quinn ended up singing "Papa Don't Preach" to Puck's guitar.
Hey soul sister, ain't that mister mister on the radio, stereo
The way you move ain't fair you know
Hey soul sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you do tonight
Well you can cut a rug
Watching you is the only drug I need
So gangster, I'm so thug
You're the only one I'm dreaming of
You see I can be myself now finally
In fact there's nothing I cant be
I want the world to see you'll be with me
Quinn slowly made her way down to the last step. Puck's voice was amazing, matched flawlessly with the guitar, and the song – the song was so right.
Hey soul sister, ain't that mister mister on the radio, stereo
The way you move ain't fair you know
Hey soul sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you do tonight
Hey soul sister, I don't wanna miss a single thing you do tonight
Heeey heeeey heeeeey (tonight)
Heeey heeeey heeeeey (tonight)
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As Puck finished the song, his eyes, drifted to the staircase and was shocked to see Quinn standing on the last step.
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As their eyes locked, Quinn bit her lip and uttered a timid hi. She stood waiting for Puck to do something until a shrill scream suddenly pierced the growing silence of the house.
AN: If the whole PDP thing was confusing, that was the only way I could think to put it in the story since the babysitting scene hadn't