Disclaimer: I own nothing, obviously. I work on a laptop computer that doesn't have a battery, so if you sue me… all that means is I can't write and post. I suppose you could take my banged up trombone though, maybe (if you found a sucker) you could get $10 for it.

Thank you to all who reviewed or story alerted me. It encouraged me to keep writing, considering in my group of friends writing fan fiction is seen mostly as a thing you must be killed for.

A note on the way I do chapters: I write until I feel that there should be a break and then I chapter them, sometimes I will post one, sometimes two on the same tab, maybe if they're really short I'll post 3 on the same tab, please respect that this is how I do it.

Chapter 1 - Santana

As per usual Santana waited for Puck to finish football practice in her typical place outside of the choir room, listening to the people in Glee club sing. Glee club was a place for losers and not being one Santana was not about to join of her own free will. They weren't bad, but you'd never hear her admit it out loud and listening to music gave her something to do besides sleep from boredom or homework. In her mind homework had the word "home" for a reason; you don't do it at school, not that she'd want anyone to know she actually did it in the first place. Keeping up pretenses sometimes, sometimes it felt like too much work, but the feeling of power that came with it; she just couldn't give that up. Students and most teachers moved out of her way when she walked the halls. All she had to do is glare in a deemed "loser" and they would scamper away as though the army of hell itself had just risen from the earth behind them. Even the football players weren't immune to her glare; it still made her smile secretly when they flinched when on the receiving end.

But sometimes, she wished that people could just see her for who she was not just Puck and his girlfriend, Quinn. Glancing at her phone, she cursed inwardly at the time as swiftly got to her feet and began to stride menacingly down the hall before the members of the Glee club came out into the hall. Meeting Puck at his car, they drove toward their neighborhood. It was only when they got to the safety of the street in front of her house that Santana decided to speak of what was bothering her all day.

"What happened in that mind of yours gave you the fucking brilliant idea that it was ok to ditch that stuff in my locker?"

Puck shrugged nonchalantly, "It's not like I had another place to put it. Besides I already apologized and you get to pick the movie tonight and tomorrow."

"That doesn't even begin to cover what you owe. I now have to spend the next two months helping at the local hospital thanks to you," grumbled Santana. "You're lucky I didn't give you up."

Puck threw his hands up in the air, "Well you're protected, I'm not. You know that they would have sent me back to juvie and then where will you be?"

"Without you," Santana replied with the tone implying that it would have been a wonderful day if that had happened.

"With Quinn riding your ass?" Santana had nothing to say to that, sure there were definitely worse people to be friends with than Quinn, but there was only so much of the blonde cheerleader she could take. "Thought so," Puck said with a grin knowing he'd won this conversation. In response, Santana hit him lightly in the shoulder eliciting an "Oi, watch that strength" from the injured party. She tried to scowl as she closed the car door. Puck drove off and she went inside her house to kill an hour or two before heading over to his house. This was just part of the pattern they had developed.

Santana gave a half-hearted "I'm home" to the empty house, her brother was in jail for life and her parents were away again. She supposed that the latter had gone to Brazil or Turkey or somewhere, leaving the house abandoned. Lying down on the couch she reflected that perhaps she should look on the bright side of the predicament she was in. It gave her an excuse not to see Quinn every night for a couple of weeks, it would fill up her free time slots and give her something to do besides exercise or pointlessly surfing the internet. In a way Puck had done her a favor, as roundabout and unintentional as it was, and she really couldn't bring herself to be mad at him, after all he had his reasons. Santana couldn't help but feel that she was lucky Coach Sylvester was already in the office, ranting about the inhumanity of taking funds from her budget, when they had brought her in. Having the Coach there was prevented her likely expulsion from the school and her punishment was reduced to a mere two month sentence of community service, under the idea "she should learn about the people she stole from". Not that it would affect her much, after all she had nothing to feel guilty about.

This time of "learning her lesson" would start tomorrow; she'd just have to get up an extra hour early to get there. Upon this realization, Santana almost grinned to herself as she realized that it meant she could leave Puck's early to go to bed. Estimating that it was about time to head over there, she grabbed a six-pack out of the fridge before leaving through the front door.

The night went as expected. They did their homework; Quinn insisted upon this before doing anything fun. There was little talking during this time but there was a brief tickle fight between the homework and the movie. Seeing as the two lovers were anxious to get going at it but were obviously only restraining themselves due to the third wheel in the house, Santana taking the hint, quickly excused herself early and went home. Who knows maybe she'll enjoy the whole working thing tomorrow.

A/N: Before you say Santana couldn't have hurt Puck to get an response from him, my answer is 1) They were teasing each other by the end of the conversation and 2) she's actually stronger and tougher than people think (the dented locker in the Prologue, she got away without a scratch, it didn't even sting her).

If you have suggestions, complaints, grammar fixing help, or angst, please tell me. If you wish to have practice flaming (that is not relevant to this story), please do it on one of my other stories that is posted via my profile. Also, if you need a Psychiatrist, I cannot help you there, because like you, I am also probably insane (probably only because I haven't been diagnosed yet).

Thank you.