A/N: Another "deleted scene"? Yes! I've been trying to finish this for a couple of weeks. It was inspired by a huge snow storm that hit the area I live it. I think I decided to set it sometime after chapter 6 but before chapter 7, just for a reference. I hope you enjoy it! Xoxo- Katie

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

"Noah, Quinn, wake up!" Puck's little sister Sara said, bursting through their bedroom door and jumping on the bed.

"Huh? What?" Puck said groggily, wincing in pain when Sara's knee plowed into his back.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked, pushing herself up out of her boyfriend's arms.

"Nothing's wrong! It's SNOWPOCALYPSE!"

"What?"

"Snowpocalypse," Puck mumbled into his pillow.

"And that would be?"

"When it snows a LOT in a really short amount of time," Sara explained. "That's what the weatherman said, which means we have a snow day!"

"What time is it?" her brother asked. "And when are you gonna learn how to knock?"

"Six and this was an emergency."

"Fuck, Sara. What are you doing up, then?"

"Puck!" Quinn chided, flicking his ear until his eyes opened again.

"Ow, babe that hurt!"

"I couldn't sleep because I was too excited! My friend Jenny said it's, like, the end of the world and I wanted to find out if school was canceled so we woke up at five! I had two Mountain Dews!"

"You're not supposed to have pop except at dinner," Puck said sternly. "Just go back to sleep until mom gets home."

"I can't sleep, I'm wired!"

"We can see that, but Quinn needs her sleep. She's just getting over her cold or whatever."

"Pussies."

"Sara," Quinn gasped flicking Puck again.

"What was that for? She said it, not me."

"Exactly, but where do you think she heard it from?"

As Puck was still rubbing his sore ear, the house phone rang. Sara jumped off the bed and out the door. "I'll get it!" she hollered, already halfway up the stairs. Moments later, she returned, phone in hand. "It's mom."

"Hey, Mom," Puck said as he took the phone from his sister and sat up. "Uh huh, Sara just told me…really? That sucks…you don't know when you'll get home?...OK, I will…no, we're not gonna go anywhere…I promise…yes, mom…yup, you too, bye."

"What'd she say?" Quinn asked.

"She said she's pretty much trapped at work. The snow's coming down so fast that the plows can't keep up, even around the hospital. I guess there's a lot of blowing and drifting, too, white out conditions and the temps dropping like crazy."

"How come I didn't know it was supposed to be that bad?"

"Because you fell asleep before the news come on," Puck pointed out.

"Well, I am still a little sick, cough, cough, see?" Quinn said with a smile.

"Excuse me, can we focus on me?" Sara said.

"Just go lie down. That's what snow days are for. Watch cartoons or some shi-…stuff."

"But I can't sleep and I'm hungry now!"

"I'll make us something," Quinn offered.

"No, babe, you don't have to. Let's just sleep. She can get Froot Loops or something."

"I want waffles!" Sara exclaimed, pouncing on her brother yet again.

"Tough."

"Puck, really, I don't mind," Quinn interjected, hoping to stop the siblings from fighting. "Sara, just go upstairs and get out a bowl and I'll get up there in a couple of minutes."

"Yes!" the younger girl replied excitedly as she scurried off the bed.

"Good work, now come here," Puck said, trying to draw her back into his arms.

"Nope, come on, get up," she coaxed him. "Think of this as practice."

"Practice for what? You're not popping out a ten-year-old brat."

"If you don't get up, you don't get waffles."

"Fine, fine, I'll get up. Do you want me to get some of your stash out of the fridge so we can cook it up?"

"Oh come on, stop making my bacon sound like contraband, but yes. Did you even have to ask?"

Quinn left the bed, stretching her tired frame. It was the first day that she was actually feeling better, but her body still ached a bit, then again, when didn't her back or feet ache anymore? Her cold hadn't been bad enough to keep her from school, just a typical runny nose and sore throat. She hated to even admit that she was sick and would deny it whenever Puck asked. Quinn left her pajamas on, just yoga pants and a t-shirt, but threw a heavier grey cable-knit cardigan on over it. When she emerged from the bathroom, Puck was out of bed and pulling a pair of sweatpants on over his boxers.

"Oh, you did get up. I thought I would have to drag you out."

"Well," he said grabbing her hips and pulling her towards him a bit. "Can you blame me for wanting to stay in bed with you?"

"Nope. I mean, who wouldn't want to stay in bed with this hotness?" Quinn said sarcastically, motioning to her bump.

"Babe, you have no idea how serious I am," Puck said, suddenly serious.

"Yes, I do," she replied, leaning up for a kiss. "Thank you."

"Mmm, are you sure you don't want to crawl back into bed?"

"Yes, besides, Sara would just come back down to look for us."

Puck followed Quinn upstairs, grabbing her bacon out of their fridge along the way. Sara had already pulled out the mixing bowl, every measuring cup, milk, butter, eggs, chocolate syrup and whipped cream.

"Took you guys long enough. I got most of the stuff out except the waffle maker because I couldn't reach it."

"I got it," Puck said, already grabbing it from its spot high up in the cabinet.

"OK, let's get to work," Quinn replied, taking charge. "Sara, you can help me measure things, I'll mix and Puck, you can put them on the waffle iron."

The three of them started an assembly line like system. Quinn would read off the ingredients, Sara would measure or hand them to her then she would mix them together and pass the batter off to Puck, who would cook them to perfection. Waffles had become a bit of a tradition between Puck and Quinn. He had made them for her the morning after she moved in and since then, they occasionally made them if he didn't work on a Saturday morning or if they crawled out of bed before noon.

"Sara, go set the table," Puck told his sister. "We're almost done anyway."

"OK," the younger girl agreed and skipped off her stool.

Puck pulled the last waffle off of the iron and added it to the stack while Quinn put the bowls and measuring cups into the dishwasher and wiped some dried batter off of the counter.

"Oh damn, I almost forgot your bacon," Puck said. "I'll just make it in the microwave."

He had managed to convince his mother to let them keep bacon in their fridge downstairs, but Ruth was adamant that they couldn't use her skillet to make it with. Fortunately, Puck had done his research and found out that you could totally cook bacon in the microwave and it actually came out pretty crispy. There was also a downside to finding that out because now all Quinn had to do was nudge him a bit in the middle of the night and he knew she wanted one of two things. "Bacon or ice cream?" he would mutter. He was waiting for the day she asked for ice cream with bacon on top. It was just bound to happen sooner or later. Once the bacon was done he brought it to the table and set it in front of Quinn, giving her an unexpected kiss on the cheek which caused her to smile.

"Ummm, hi, I'm right here," Sara said. "Can you two not be disgusting in front of me please?"

"Deal with it," Puck replied. "You made us wake up super early when we all could have slept in so just deal with it."

"So what are we doing today?"

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked.

"Like, when are we going to play in the snow?"

"Are you kidding me?" Puck said just after putting a forkful of waffles into his mouth. "Have you even looked outside? The wind's blowing snow so much that you can't see across the street. We're not going out in that."

"Your brother's right," Quinn added. "We don't even know how high those drifts are. It's better if you just stay inside. We'll find something to do."

As it turned out, something meant playing Rock Band for two hours straight. They would switch off instruments except for when it was Quinn's turn to play the drums. She would always say that she wanted to try it and would start off just fine until she got part of the way through the song. She didn't know why, but she just wasn't great at the drums and when a section got difficult, Quinn would start laughing until Puck paused the game and made her switch instruments with him.

"No, wait," she said, between laughs when her boyfriend reached for the drumsticks. "I can do it!"

"Come on, we're gonna lose because of you."

"Yeah," Sara chimed in.

"Hey! Whatever happened to girls against boys?"

"I just want to beat this song. Besides, you didn't tell us you sucked at the drums."

"I don't suck!" Quinn pouted.

"No, babe," Puck said, not knowing if they had really hurt her feelings or if she was just joking. "It's just that you're so much better at playing the guitar or singing."

Reluctantly, Quinn gave up the sticks to Puck in exchange for the microphone and they finished out the next couple of songs. As the morning rolled into early afternoon, the trio switched from Rock Band to Mario Kart as the storm continued to rage outside. Puck was pretty sure that it had stopped snowing, maybe, but the wind was so fierce that snow was drifting across the road, making it nearly impossible to drive down. As they played, Quinn and Puck both noticed Sara becoming more and more disinterested in the game and her eyes began to glaze over.

"Sara, why don't you go upstairs and take a nap or something," her brother suggested.

"Yeah, OK," she replied, setting her controller down and walking upstairs.

"Damn, she must have been tired."

'Why do you say that?" Quinn asked.

"Because she didn't argue with me. So what do you want to do now?"

"Well, the idea of a nap sounds pretty good to me right now, too."

"You wanna go down to the bed?"

"No, I think I might just stay right here. Are you going to lie down, too?"

"Might as well. Scoot over."

"We won't both fit."

"We fit on our couch."

"I'm huge and our couch is…wider."

"Quinn, you're barely five months and you're far from huge," Puck assured her as he rearranged them so that his arm was around her back, her head was on his chest, and their legs overlapped. "Told ya we would fit."

"Blah, blah, blah. Let's just sleep."

Puck wasn't exactly tired, more like bored, but Quinn seemed extremely content as she nestled into him and he rested his chin on top of her head. Her belly, round and cute under his t-shirt, was flush against his stomach and he let his free hand absentmindedly trace a path between her hip bone and her bump.

"Babe, are you asleep?" he whispered.

"Almost," she replied.

"You care if I turn on the TV? I'll make it really low."

"I don't care, but I'm cold. Can you get a blanket?"

Reaching an arm up to the top of the couch, Puck grabbed the blanket that was folded there and tossed it across Quinn and himself. He pulled it over her shoulder and made sure her back was covered before he took the remote from behind his head. He switched the TV on and turned down the volume as he flipped through the channels. Almost every news station had something on about the blizzard. Some channels were showing the radar, others the evolution of the storm, and one showed different clips of people's cars that were stuck in the snow. He was seriously starting to worry about his mom. Part of him wanted her home and part of him, the sensible part that he generally ignored but had recently started listening to, knew that she was safest at the hospital and that she was probably needed there. Although he hadn't felt tired to begin with, he started spacing out. Puck could tell that Quinn was already asleep by the way her body rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Every time Puck blinked his eyes, it got harder and harder to open them up again until he finally stopped trying an allowed himself to fall asleep.

XXXXX

Quinn's eyes fluttered open and it took her a moment to realize where she had fallen asleep and why she was there. She glanced over her shoulder to the clock on the mantle and found that even though she had only slept for about an hour, she felt incredibly well rested. She hadn't been awake long when the familiar urge to use the bathroom hit her. It was generally easy enough to wriggle out of Puck's arms if they were in bed, but she knew getting up without waking him while they were on the couch would be an impossible challenge. Quinn needed to find a way to push herself up that didn't include pushing on her boyfriend's chest or shoulder. Maybe if I can just roll to the left without falling off the couch, she mused, biting her lip as she tried to maneuver her body. She had almost successfully slid from the couch when Puck stirred suddenly and tightened his arms around her with a start.

"It's OK, I got you," he said, slightly dazed and frazzled.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to sit up once more.

"I thought…weren't you falling?"

"No, I was trying to get up to go to the bathroom without waking you up."

"Oh. It didn't work."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Will you let me go so I can pee now?"

"Right, sorry."

When Quinn came back into the family room, Puck was nowhere to be seen but the door to the basement was opened. She walked down the stairs and found him in their bedroom, putting his snowboarding pants.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm gonna go shovel some snow. It looks like it's let up a lot. I at least want my mom to be able to pull her car into the garage when she gets home and shovel a path to the front door."

"I wish I could help or something," Quinn offered, but she was really glad not to have to go outside.

"It's fine, just make sure Sara doesn't burn down the house when she decides to wake up."

Puck hadn't been outside shoveling for more than a half an hour when the phone rang.

"Hello," Quinn answered after seeing the name of the hospital show up on the caller id.

"Hi, Quinn," Ruth said on the other end. "How are you?"

"Good, a little bored maybe. How's the hospital?"

"Eerily quiet but the afternoon shifters still aren't in yet."

"Have you slept at all Mrs. Puckerman?"

"Yeah, in the on call room for a bit. Since the snow eased up they might be able to get some main roads plowed and I could make it home. What's my son up to?"

"Shoveling," Quinn replied. "He went out a bit ago. I was going to check up on him to make sure he didn't get buried in a drift."

"You don't need to be going outside at all. It's below zero with the wind chill. Noah will be fine out there, just let him know that I called and I'm still not sure what time I'll be home."

"Alright, I will."

"Quinn, I mean it. No going outside. You're still getting over whatever you had."

"OK, I promise I will stay inside."

"That you. Now, if I'm not home for dinner, there is some lasagna that I made a couple of weeks ago in the freezer that you guys could warm up in the oven."

"Sounds good."

"Time for me to get back to work. Hopefully, I'll see you sooner rather than later."

"Hopefully," Quinn reiterated. "Call if you need something."

After hanging up with Mrs. Puckerman, Quinn walked into the living room to see if she could catch a glimpse at what Puck was up to without actually having to go outside. The large bay window faced the front yard and she could see the walkway and the driveway as well. The snow was so high from all of the wind and blowing that the drifts covered the bushes in front of the house completely. The snow was also piled high over and against her small car. In some parts it even went all the way up to the windows.

She spotted Puck lifting a huge shovel-full of snow and tossing it over his shoulder, seemingly unfazed by the cold and the lingering snow that was still blowing around.

The longer she lived with him, the more she realized how selfless he could be. At school, he was Puck, resident badass, occasional class-ditcher, the guy who threw kids into dumpsters (though now with decreasing frequency). At home, he was Noah to his mom and sister. He rarely complained about helping out and being the man of the house. He emptied garbages, reached the things at the top of the cabinets and killed spiders. It was one of the first things that she noticed about him after she moved it. Once she let him in, really truly opened up to him and let him in, there was no denying it. If she told him right then and there that she wanted a strawberry shortcake sundae, he probably would have done anything to try and get it for her.

When she thought about it honestly, he had always been like that for her, willing to do anything to help her, to make her feel better. There were the cupcakes, the baby book, and even to some extent the wine coolers. He had brought them over to get her mind off of things. They each had one and then she used them as an excuse to blame him when there was really no one to blame. She wanted to be with him not because of the wine coolers, but because he was Puck and until then, she was always just too afraid to admit to herself that it was OK to be in love with him.

"What are you doing Quinn?" Sara asked, rubbing her eyes at the top of the stairs.

"Just watching your brother shovel," the older girl replied, tearing her gaze away from Puck and turning towards his sister as she walked down the steps.

"It stopped snowing?"

"Yeah, but still blowing like crazy."

"So why is Noah shoveling then if it's all going to blow back?"

"To make it easier later on and so your mom can pull into the driveway. She called earlier."

"Is she coming home now?" Sara asked, wrapping her arms around Quinn and laying her head on her arm. Over the past couple of months, the two had grown quite close and Quinn truly enjoyed having a younger sister.

"Hmm, not yet, but hopefully soon. I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"Do you want to help me bake some cookies and make hot cocoa for your brother when he comes in?"

"What does he need cookies and cocoa for? It's not like it's cold outside," Sara joked. "Yeah sure, I'll help, but only if I get to lick the cookie dough off the beaters."

"Deal," Quinn agreed, giving the girl a light squeeze.

"You know, I'm really glad you live with us," Sara said, handing Quinn a measuring cup filled with brown sugar.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Just because I have someone to do fun things with and make cookies and stuff. I mean, it sucks that your parents are douchebags."

"Sara, you shouldn't call people that."

"Noah does. Whatever, he said it's their loss."

"Did he now?"

"Yeah, but he told me not to ask you about them…because they're douchebags."

"Just because your brother uses that word doesn't mean you should to," Quinn pointed out over the drone of the mixer.

"That's why my mom likes having you around, too. She said you're a model or something."

"A role model?"

"Yeah, that's it. She said you set good examples and stuff."

"Well, next to Noah, it's not hard," Quinn smiled. "But really, your mom likes me?"

Ever since she began to live with Puck, Quinn felt welcomed by Mrs. Puckerman, but she had a hard time wrapping her head around the idea that she would be so accepting of the non-Jewish girl her only son had fallen in love with and gotten pregnant. It didn't matter how many times Puck told her, she still just thought he was appeasing her. It didn't matter that Ruth took her shopping and they would make dinner together while Puck was at work, Quinn still worried that the older woman harbored a secret disdain for her.

"Oh yeah," Sara replied, answering her question. "I heard her talking to her friend Miriam on the phone the other night. She thought I was just watching TV, but I was listening."

"You shouldn't listen to people's phone conversations, Sara," Quinn said.

"Do you want to know what my mom said or not?" she asked.

"…Yes," the blonde replied after a few beats.

"Well," Sara began, putting on her best impression of her mother, voice included. "She said, Miriam, I'll tell you something, maybe this has been a blessing in disguise. Noah's grades are up, he's more helpful than ever, he got a job and I think he's finally maturing. And his girlfriend, let me tell you something about her, she is the nicest girl. She's good with Sara, she helps around the house. At first, I was just glad it wasn't the trampy latina girl, but now I think she's the perfect fit for Noah, regardless of the situation."

"You're lying," Quinn laughed.

"Am not! Sure, I play tricks on people and scare you when I know you're right around the corner, but I'm not a liar. And get this, I could totally hear mom's friend say mozel tov through the phone."

"Oh jeez," the older girl smiled, shaking her head. The first batch of cookies was on the cooling racks and the milk for the hot cocoa had just come up to a boil when the front door opened.

"Jesus Christ, it's cold!" Puck yelled.

"We're in the kitchen!" Sara hollered back.

Puck stooped to remove his boots and shed his hat as he walked into the kitchen. The warmth of the house felt wonderful on his face, which was practically numb from the cold. He stopped for a moment to take in the sight in front of him. He realized that Quinn and Sara were obviously laughing at something and having a good time. There was flour all over the counter, on Sara's head, Quinn's cheek and he knew then, more than ever, that moments like that were exactly why he wanted a family with Quinn, why even at sixteen he could never imagine being with someone else.

"Puck, are you OK?" Quinn asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

"What?" he said, coming back to reality.

"I asked you if you wanted some cocoa."

"Yeah, sorry I spaced out," he replied as he threw his coat onto a kitchen chair.

"How cold is it out there?"

"Do you want to feel? My cheeks are freezing."

"No!" Quinn exclaimed. "I don't like that look on your face."

"What look?" Puck asked, trying to sound innocent as he walked up to Quinn, backing her into the corner where the two counters met while Sara rolled her eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That look."

He placed his hands firmly on her hips so that she couldn't get away and she placed hers over his arms, bracing herself for what she knew was coming. Puck leaned in brushed his nose and cheek against hers, causing Quinn to give a high pitched little yelp and squirm in his arms until he pulled her into a hug.

"I told you it was cold," Puck whispered into her ear.

"You're evil," she replied, unable to really sound angry with him.

"Oh look, a cookie," he said suddenly, reaching behind her to grab one off the cooling rack. "These are really good, babe."

"Hey, I helped, too!"

"Yeah, yeah Sara, whatever."

XXXXX

Puck held Quinn close to his chest as they lay in bed later that night. Twelve hours after her shift ended, Mrs. Puckerman had finally been about to come home, the drive that usually only took fifteen minutes had taken close to an hour. Puck and Quinn had made sure dinner was ready and on the table when she walked through door and as soon as the meal was over, Ruth went straight up to bed. Sara followed shortly after, her second wind completely worn off and her stomach full of lasagna, leaving the two teenagers alone to clean up the dishes and head down to the basement.

"I feel like I've been doing this all day," Quinn said, lifting her head slightly.

"We didn't do it on the couch or in the kitchen," Puck replied sarcastically.

"That's not exactly what I meant. I mean, I feel like I've just been lying around all day. You went out and shoveled and stuff."

"We made breakfast, you made cookies and you did most of the dinner stuff. Besides, it's nice to just be lazy sometimes, just take a break."

"Maybe we need to have snow days more often."

"You certainly wouldn't hear my complaining about that," Puck smiled. "I got to see you more today than I usually do at school, so that's an added bonus."

"Do you think we'll have another snow day tomorrow?"

"I don't know. It depends, I guess. Since my mom's home I locked the basement door, just in case."

"You're bad."

"What? Don't tell me that wouldn't be awkward. You know you love me."

"That I do," she sighed and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight Puck."

"Night, love you Quinn."