Shelby handed Quinn a cup of coffee. It was early in the morning, the sun had barely risen yet and Quinn felt mostly still asleep.

"You call me if there's any trouble" Shelby said sternly. "Anything."
"We will" Quinn assured her softly.

Shelby was leaving town to see some old friends, for the day. She would be gone no more than ten hours and was despite that severely worried. Puck wasn't, though, he was excited for this opportunity to spend an entire day alone with his daughter. Quinn was too sleepy feel anything yet.

"His girlfriend isn't coming, is she?" Shelby hissed.

Puck and Beth was watching cartoons and eating cereal. Both their eyes are set on the TV and they both laughed at the same time as someone tripped on the screen.

"No" Quinn said.

"I ran into her them the other day."
"Really?" Quinn mumbled.

"She looked nice enough."

"I'm sure."

"I know it sounds selfish, but it really would have been easier if you two had just stayed together" Shelby sighed. "Beth has enough parents."

Quinn clenched her hands tightly in the pockets of her sweatshirt. Her fingernails cut into the palms and left dents in the skin.

"She's not going to be a parent" she said.

Shelby turned to look at her, raising her eyebrows.

"What happened between you and Noah?" she asked. "Why did it end?"

Quinn unclenched her hands, slowly, one finger at a time. She had avoided this question so many times before, from so many people, that she was practically an expert at it.

"It just didn't work out" she answered, as vague as ever.

"I'm kind of shocked by that. I thought you would get married and have more kids."

"One's enough" Quinn said and placed her mug on the counter top.

She stretched her arms to the ceiling in an attempt to wake herself up. Working nights for a year had messed up her sleep cycle. The last time she was awake at five AM and not on her way home from work, she didn't remember.

"I should get on the road" Shelby announced, going over to kiss her daughter's hair. "You be good, Beth."

Beth shook herself out of her mother's grip. She was still in her pajamas, blue pants with small ducklings on them and shirt with the words "I HELPED SAVE TURTLES IN 2012" on it. Quinn thought that this was probably the first time she had seen her daughter in pajamas since she had been a small child. It was some kind of a milestone.

"Shelby, you're blocking the TV" Beth whined and shoved her mother away.

Quinn thought that this was not the first time that Beth had not called Shelby mom. She wondered if it was a pre-teen revolt thing.

"Oh well. I tried. You two, call me if there's any trouble" Shelby sighed.

"We will" Puck promised her, taking his eyes from the screen to give her an assuring smile.

"We'll be fine" Quinn agreed.

Shelby took her purse and left. Quinn slumped down on the couch next to man who used to be her boyfriend and the girl who used to be her daughter. She was a TV-lover and watched way too much of it, but animated shows about aliens was not her thing. Beth and Puck laughed and Quinn shut her eyes. Just for a minute, she thought and then fell asleep.

"Is she sleeping?"

Beth's voice was sharp and Quinn's stirred awake. She kept her eyes closed, in hopes of getting a few more minutes of rest.

"I think so" Puck confirmed.

"Why?"
"It's really early in the morning."
"Doesn't she like Jumbo – the space monkey?"

"Probably not as much as we do."

"Should we wake her?" Beth asked.

"Nah, not yet" Puck replied.

"Do you think Karen is prettier than her?" Beth asked, a small note of accusation in her voice. "Because I don't. I think Quinn is much prettier."

Puck laughed under his breath.

"Quinn is beautiful" he told Beth.

"Then why are you with Karen?"

"Looks aren't everything."

"Is Karen nicer then?"
"Let's just watch Jumbo, Beth" Puck said, with sternness that he had never before used towards Beth.

They were quiet for a while. Quinn was again on the verge of sleep. She wanted to hear if they were going to say anything else, but the couch was soft and the sounds from the TV were oddly soothing. Just when she was about to let go and fall back asleep, Beth spoke again.

"Don't you two love each other anymore?" she asked.

Her voice was lower now, it even sounded scared.

"Of course we do" Puck answered.

"Are you lying?"

"No, I never lie" he said.

"Then why are you not together?" Beth pushed on.

Puck didn't reply and Quinn suddenly felt wide awake.

…

"Should we say something about us?" Quinn asked, despite having asked the same question at least ten times before.

"She's a kid, Quinn. She won't know the difference" Puck told her calmly.

He rang the doorbell. Quinn straightened her shoulders and pulled out Beth's birthday present. She was five today which meant that Quinn was twenty-one. Their ages would always be like that, variables in the same equation.

"Welcome" Shelby said, greeting them with a big smile.

They stepped into the house and immediately were struck by the smell of something burning.

"Mommy burnt the cake" Beth informed them from the dining room.

Quinn stood still, watching Beth for about a minute in total silence. Seeing her daughter only once a year was the strangest thing, a child could change so much in a year. But then, a lot of things had changed in a year for Quinn too.

"I love burnt cake" Puck announced, raising his hand in greeting to all the grandparents and cousins.

"Then you're in luck" Shelby sighed. "We have a lot of that."
Quinn picked a chair next to Shelby's cousin, Marla, and sat down. She told them that, yes, the trip had gone great and yes, they were very hungry. Beth sang a song she had learned from the TV and everyone laughed. Puck clapped the loudest. They ate store bought cupcakes because evidently the cake had been really burned. Shelby took the lead in Happy Birthday and Quinn smiled, because sometimes it was so clear that she was Rachel's mother.

"I'll help to clear up" Quinn offered, and began to stack plates.

Puck was setting up the board game that someone had given Beth as a gift, handing out paper money to each person around the table.

"Quinn, don't you wanna be on my team?" Puck called out.

She snorted at him.

"I don't want to join the losing one" she retorted, taking his plate and adding it to her pile.

"I'm great at board games" he pouted.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't you remember when we played Trivial Pursuit with my college friends last year?" she asked, mockingly.

"Hey" he complained. "That's a lame game. This, this is good game. We're going to find a diamond or something."
"I'll be on your team" Beth piped up.

"Aw, listen, Q. You'll get to be with me and Beth."

Quinn watched Beth's face closely, looking a sign of disappointment, for any sign that she would rather have Puck to herself. Quinn saw no such thing on their daughter's face. The prospect a game was evidently more important than who was on her team.

"Oh well" she agreed. "Maybe Beth and I can try to carry your weight."

Puck grinned and pulled her down onto his lap. She wasn't the kind of girl who sat on her boyfriend's lap, never had been, but the feeling of being able to lean back against him was nice. Beth threw the dice and moved the pieces on the huge board. Quinn cheered when they won, which was probably because the other grown-ups wanted to see Beth happy.

"What's our prize?" she asked, pulling at her mother's hand.

"Honey, you just got a lot of birthday presents. I think that's enough for one day" Shelby sighed.

"What about Puck and Quinn?" she asked, in her tiny voice, still holding on to Shelby's hand. "Don't they get a prize?"

Shelby looked up at them, at Quinn sitting on his knee, with his arm around her waist. She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head at him.

"They look pretty happy as it is" she noted. "I don't think they need another prize."

…

She drove him home later that night, when Shelby had come back and Beth had fallen asleep and they were both exhausted. She parked the car outside his mother's house. The light was still on in the living room; Hannah, Karen or Mrs. Puckerman was still up.

"That went well, right?" Puck said.

"Yeah" Quinn agreed. "Really great."

"She's like a real person now. I mean, she says smart things and…"
Quinn nodded.

"She's eight" she said, which meant nothing to must people, but everything to the two of them.

Puck's age was parallel with Beth's too. They had that in common. Three variables in the most complicated equation of all time.

"Do you think Shelby will let us babysit when she goes to that bachelorette party?" he asked.

Quinn shrugged.

"I don't know. I hope so."

"Do you?"

She nodded and yes, she really did. Before she had always been apprehensive and scared about seeing Beth, feeling out of place and that it was too hurtful. Now she didn't. Now it was hours that she could spend the most fascinating person in the world.

"She looks so much like you" Quinn exhaled. "It's scary."

"Hey" he said, elbowing her softly in the midriff. "Are you saying I'm not hot?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. She looks like a mini-Hannah with all that dark hair and brown hair."

"Damn my recessive genes" Quinn joked and pulled playfully with her blonde hair and pointed at her light eyes.

"She's more like you" Puck said.

"No, she's not" Quinn argued.

"Yes, she is. Can't you tell? I mean, every time we see her it strikes me. She watches me, exactly like you watch people. She questions everything, never just accepts something like I do. She's skeptical to new things, but when she accepts them, she never lets go."

Quinn cleared her throat.

"I don't want her to have anything from me" she said, and she didn't know if that was true or not.

"Why not?"
"I'm a train wreck."

"No, you're not. You had a bad year. I've had bad years too."

"Yes, because of me."

He leaned his head to one side. His eyes were the softest thing. She wondered how they could ever turn black and mean and evil. It seemed like a different pair of eyes.

"Don't say that" he mumbled. "Please, don't say that."

Quinn looked away and swallowed down the tears that burned in her throat.

"Well, I'd rather she had gotten my hair instead of my mood."

She began to pick at a stray thread in her sweater. He was still watching her. The radio played a song about love that Quinn didn't recognize.

"I'd better go inside" he said.

"I wish you wouldn't" she whispered.

He covered her fingers with his hand, forcing her stop picking at the thread, forcing her to look at him.

"You can't say things like that, Quinn" he breathed. "It's not fair."

"Okay."

"There's Karen and-"

"I get it" she cut across him. "Sorry."

He didn't move his hand. She pressed her fingers against it, keeping them closer together. Karen had told her, no, asked her to stay away from Puck. Quinn didn't care. She was already the worst person in the world.

"I wish Beth would inherit everything from you" he mumbled. "Every little thing."

His cheekbones, the ones that Beth also had, were sharp in the moonlight. He had scruff on his chin and watercolor paint on his neck and she loved him.

"I feel the same way about you."

Tap, tap, tap. They both looked up, and around. And there was Karen, knocking on Puck's window, dressed in a pale pink robe. He opened the door and as he did, his hand slid away from Quinn's.

"Is everything okay?" Karen asked. "You've been out here a long time."

"Yeah, sure. Everything's fine" Puck replied. "We were just talking."

"Really?" Karen asked harshly. "About what?"
"Beth. She's growing up so fast and…"

"Fine. Now let's go to bed" Karen interrupted. "Goodnight, Quinn."

"Night" Quinn mumbled as Karen slammed the car door shut.

…

When Quinn announced that Puck was coming for dinner, her mother had started to cook. And she didn't stop. Quinn had tried to tell her that it was Puck that coming for dinner, not the president, but Judy didn't listen.

"It doesn't matter what you serve" Quinn had persisted. "It's Puck, he'll eat anything."
"Of course it matters" Judy had sighed and tasted the sauce. "He matters to you and therefore, it matters what I serve him.

At seven, he was there, wearing a nice white button down shirt and black pants and smelling of cologne.

"Hello Noah" Judy said, shaking his hand.

"Hi Mrs. Fabray" he said, amused by the formality.

Judy was acting like it was the first time she had met him, as if he was someone, a stranger, who Quinn had brought home for dinner.

"Honey, take his jacket" Judy told her.

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"He can hang it himself, he's closer to the hangers."

Judy gave her a disappointed look and Quinn took the leather jacket from Puck's hands. She hung it next her one of her father's coats, a winter coat made of thick wool that he had forgot to bring with him to his new wife.

"Welcome Noah" Judy went on, in her formal voice. "I hope you like chicken."
"Love it" he told her, smiling.

They sat down around the dining table that was too big for three people. It had been appropriate when they had been four in the family and hosted dinner parties, but that time was long gone now.

"You two are dating now" Judy said, passing Quinn the salad.

"Yes, mom."

"How nice."

"I think so" Puck grinned.

Quinn stopped listening as her mother questioned him about things, like his work and his mother's life and other things that she already knew everything about. She watched Puck lean his elbows against the oak table, a sin in the Fabray household, and how Judy flinched as she saw it, but said nothing. Instead she looked happy as Puck ate more potatoes and more chicken and said that everything tasted great. Puck might not the type of person that Judy had expected (or hoped) Quinn to end up with, but she was accepting it. Perhaps it was because of the wine. Quinn had had one glass and Puck nothing, and still the bottle was already only half full.

"I mean, I still think that you two should have gotten married when Quinn was pregnant" Judy said, slurring ever so slightly.

Quinn wondered how much her mother had had to drink before the dinner.

"Mom…"

"You could at least have asked" her mother told Puck, half-jokingly.

"I would have, if I had thought that there was any shot of her saying yes."
"We gave her away, mom" Quinn said silently. "There was no point in getting married because of Beth if she was someone else's."

"But you would have had each other" Judy insisted, pouring herself a fourth glass of red wine.

Quinn moved the bottle away from her. She hated to see her mother drunk. It made the family failure so painfully obvious for everyone to see.

"Is that reason enough to get married?" Puck pondered. "Because you don't want to be alone?"
"It's as good a reason as any" Judy responded and Quinn wondered if it was from her mother that she had received her practical view on relationships.

Or the practical view on relationships that she had had until recently.

"I think you should only get married if you're like giddily in love" Puck said. "Not because of legal issues or because of babies or because you've been together five years."

"That's nice" Judy said flatly, looking around for the wine bottle that Quinn had moved. "More to drink anyone?"

They ate dessert and talked more about non-important stuff like politics and religion and other things that were easier to discuss with your mother than love.

…

The night was warm and she stayed in her car for hours. Her brain had gone from exhausted to alert in mere minutes and her fingers almost shook with awareness as she tapped them against the steering wheel. She listened to the radio, to the same songs over and over and to the commercial breaks and she heard none of it. The night turned into to morning and she was still in the car. Her trembling fingers found her phone as the sun began to rise.

"Can you bring me coffee?" she asked into the phone, but meant something else.

"Okay" Santana replied.

Twenty minutes she was in the car too, with two mugs of coffee that had gotten cold on the walk over. Quinn cupped her hands around the china, just like she did this time yesterday at Beth's house. She's been awake for 24 hours and almost felt sick.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked.

Santana reclined her seat all the way back and opened the window to let some air in. She said nothing and Quinn said nothing and a morning show on the radio was interviewing someone about a lost dog.

"I can't do this anymore" she started again. "I can't be this person."

"Then don't" Santana said.

"I used to be so much and now I am nothing."
The coffee was too strong, the aftertaste was bitter on Quinn's tongue. Santana kept rubbing her eyes against the sun. Quinn stared into it, wanting it to sting, wanting the light to blind her.

"I used to be the person people bragged about" she said. "And now, I have nothing. Literally nothing."

Santana sighed loudly.

"Yeah, well, you've changed. That happens, you grow up. And for the record, you are a hell of a lot more pleasant to be around now."

"So are you. Has Tanya had that effect on you?"
"No" Santana replied, affronted. "I had that effect on me."
"Puck made me better" Quinn argued.

"No, he didn't. You loved him and that made you different, you adapted and changed because of yourself and other circumstances. Don't give him credit."

People were getting up now to go to work. Men and women were stepping out to pick up the newspaper and tying their shoes on the porch and getting into their cars. Children came out to play in the gardens.

"You are not miserable because of him, Quinn" Santana went on. "Yeah, well, sort of. But you are miserable because you've given up. You gave up on him and on getting another job and on Beth and on Boston. You just gave up."

Quinn's eyelids began to droop. She was suddenly exhausted again, ready for sleep, for endless sleep, but she fought to stay awake a little bit longer.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked.

"You start fighting for something again; start to care and apply yourself."

Quinn clenched her fists to stay awake. She stared more intently into the sun, it burned her eyes and made her see strange shapes in the lightest shade of yellow.

"If you care, you can get hurt" she said plainly.

Santana sighed again. She wasn't a morning person at all, and also, she wasn't one to listen to whining.

"Stop playing the victim, Q. You have a degree from one of the best schools in the world. You have talent. You have a kid. And you have me. What else do you need?"

Quinn smiled. She smiled and turned to Santana and laughed, because God she was tired. She laughed because it all seemed so easy when Santana said it.

"I need to go to bed" she announced.

"I think you do" Santana agreed.

…

She wrote his name next to hers on the door of their apartment. He had brought some stuff from his room in Lima, a poster from the movie Fight Club, a shelf he had made in woodshop and all the clothes he owned. Quinn made room in the closet for his t-shirts and helped him tape Brad Pitt's image in the living room. Despite the fact that he lived with for such a long time, this was it, this was it for real. This was the official point when her place became theirs.

"I feel so grown up" Puck said as he opened a beer and sat down on the couch. "I have a job, a girlfriend and an apartment that her daddy pays for."

Quinn laughed. Her college friends, Anne-Belle, Kerry and Mary, were coming over for dinner. She had decided to stop treating them like replacements and dinner felt like a good start.

"Do you think your friends will like me?" Puck asked, dramatically, with a weak voice.

"You already know them, idiot."

"It's been a long time. They might have started to despise me."
"Trust me: you're the most interesting thing to have happened in their lives since the Higgs boson" Quinn assured him.

"I have no idea what that is."

"No one does" she comforted him and glided down next to him.

He placed his arm around her shoulder and offered her his beer. She shook her head and kissed him instead. Despite laughing at him earlier, this formal and official move in made her feel grown up too. And accomplished. She was a college senior with her senior project in the making. She owned property (or sort of), had good friends and a boyfriend. Her mother was proud of her. Quinn didn't really know what else to ask for.

"Are you inviting the college squad over just because I said that you don't care about them?" Puck asked sincerely.

"Maybe" she replied.

"You don't have to be friends with them just because I made an excellent point."
She shoved him in the ribs, but he just pulled her closer and kissed her again.

"They're nice" she whispered into his lips.

"Very nice" he agreed.

"And they like you."

"How much do they like me? More than that Higg thing?"

Quinn giggled.

"I would say they like you equally to the Higgs Boson."

"And how much do you like me?" he mumbled into the skin just behind her ear. "I mean in comparison to the Boson?"
His kisses were light and her blood was pumping fast in her veins. The scruff on his face rubbed against her cheek and she turned his face so that he kissed her mouth instead. He bent down over her, gently pressing her down on her back on the couch. Her newly ironed dress was wrinkling under her body and she didn't care. He was the first person who made her stop caring about things like that.

"Well, the Higgs Boson might be able to help us explain the entire universe" she whispered, pretending to think the question over.

"But will it love you forever?" he asked as his hands disappeared under her dress and found her hot skin and she closed her eyes for just a second.

"No" she almost hissed. "No, I don't think it's capable of that."

The doorbell rang. Kerry or Mary or Anne-Belle was here. Early, of course. Girls like that, like Quinn, was always early.

"Then I think I win" Puck told her before getting up to answer the door.

Quinn exhaled slowly and thought that yes, yes he probably did.

…

She watched her own documentary 24 times a in a row. The version that her mother had on DVD was only fifteen minutes long, it was the short version that she had sent out to seek work after graduation. After the fifth time she picked up a notebook and scribbled vigorously in it, marking down everything that was bad and everything that had could been done better. She listened to her own voice, talking in the background about circumstances and statistics. She watched Alisha, Anna and Rachel talk, all had different views on the subject, and all of them were interesting.

"What are you doing?" Judy asked, as she stepped into the room after the 20th time.

"Applying myself" Quinn replied, not taking her eyes from Alisha's eyes, which seemed to pierce through her.

"That's great, honey."

After the 24th viewing, Quinn went to get her computer. She still had all the raw material on the hard drive, she had worked too hard on it delete it, even after she had given up on her dream. She watched the first full interview with Rachel, it was almost two hours long and she could hear Puck interjecting even though he wasn't supposed to. She watched one of the interviews with Anna too, a woman in her thirties who had given her baby up for adoption nearly fifteen years previously. Quinn didn't want to watch to Alisha's interviews. Not yet. She would, soon.

"Are you alright?" Judy asked, popping her head into the room a few hours later. "You've been in here all day."

"I'm fine" Quinn replied absent-mindedly.

"Are you making another documentary?" Judy asked tentatively.

"No, the same one. Only better."
"I made dinner, do you want some?"
Quinn shook her head.

"I'm not hungry."

Judy left again and Quinn put on her headphones and watched Rachel talk about Shelby. She heard herself ask questions. Stupid, naïve questions read from a paper and better questions that were spontaneous. Rachel cried, because Rachel was a good crier.

"I didn't tell you to go crazy" Santana remarked sourly, as she pulled the headphones off Quinn's head.

Quinn paused the film in the moment that Rachel blew her nose. Santana sniggered at the image on the screen.

"Did my mom call you?" Quinn asked.

"Yes. She sounded worried. You did sleep this morning, right?"
"Yeah, I did. For a full eight hours."

"You should eat something. Judy seems anxious."
Quinn groaned but closed the laptop screen and got up. She stretched her arms towards the ceiling. It had been a long time since she had felt the stiffness in the shoulders after working for hours on the computer.

"You want some?" she asked Santana.

"Judy's cooking? Absolutely. Why do you think I came over so quickly?"
Quinn laughed. They went out to kitchen and loaded their plates with lasagna. As Quinn's reheated hers in the microwave, Santana caught her eye.

"You giving up waitressing then, Q?" she asked.

"Hopefully."
"Good, I bet you were terrible at it."

Quinn rolled her eyes and watched as the timer on the microwave counted down.

"I talked to Tanya. I'm… going to try it. You know. Living with her."

Quinn hid a smile as the plate spun round and round behind the plastic window.

"That's great."
"You think it's crazy."

"No, I don't. I think it's sweet."

"Shut up."

"You'll have kids too now, San" Quinn teased her.

"No, I won't" Santana argued aggressively.

"And yet you look so young to already have two!"

Santana didn't speak to her for half an hour.

…

After too much wine one night in bed he brought up the future. Post-college. Post-New Haven. She was frightened of things changing, of the risk of things getting worse again. She wanted for nothing else than to be drunk in a bed with the boy she loved. She was reluctant to discuss any of it, but it was already December and time was running out.

"What do you think of LA?" he asked, a faint slur to his usually steady voice.

"Too sunny" she replied. "How about Boston?"
"Boston? What do they have in Boston?"

"Baseball" she said. "And Kennings."
"The company that makes all those documentaries?"

"Yeah."

"You applied for a job?"
"Just sent them my film and an application. They usually don't take interns, but you know…"

He looked at her and she looked back. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She leaned into his touch, longing for more and it for never end.

"I love Boston" he said softly. "Have I ever told you that?"
"What about your job here?" she asked.

"It's just temporary."

"But you like this city…"

"Nah, I like it because you live here. And I will love Boston if you'll allow me to go with you."

"I just sent in an application, Puck. It will probably come nothing out of it."
"Maybe not."

They sat closely in the bed they shared, close enough for her hair to brush his shoulder as she leaned in to kiss him again. He flipped her over, onto her back, and she grabbed hold of his neck.

"We can buy an apartment in Boston" he whispered between kisses. "You're rich, right?"
She laughed.

"We could get a loan."
"A loan? God, what has come of me? Am I a responsible adult now?"
"No, not at all" she whispered as his mouth found the soft spot below her collar bone.

She raised her arms and he pulled off T-shirt she had worn to bed; one of his shirts. Her mind was cloudy with wine and with him and she couldn't think straight enough to be worried about change anymore. These waves of lust and love that never seemed to end made everything very clear and very unclear at the same time. She wanted him, like she had never wanted anything else. She tugged at his hair that grown an inch or two during the winter. His kisses were rough now and she wanted more, and never to have less.

"Are you scared?" he asked, his voice ragged.

"No."

She thought of that night, all those years ago, on the bed in her bedroom in Lima. How the painting of Jesus had looked down at them as he kissed just, just like this and how she had forgotten everything then too. She hadn't been scared then and she wasn't scared now. It was the stuff that come afterwards that had been terrifying.

"Look at us" he whispered. "You and me. The dysfunctional ones, they told us. We're the ones planning our future. Not Rachel and Finn. Not Mike and Tina. Not even Mr. Shue and Ms. Pillsbury. You and me."
"Don't jinx it" she mumbled back through swollen lips.

But maybe it was already too late.

…