This is really long chapter but I really wanted this whole thing to be in one block, so here it is. The past time story finally comes full circle and then it's just one story left. I hope you won't be confused by this. And thank you for reading and commenting. You are all wonderful!

"You sure you don't want dinner?" Betty asked.

"No, thank you" Quinn answered smiled. "You two have a great evening."

She tied her shoes and closed the apartment door behind her. Betty had been nice enough to rent Quinn her spare room and Quinn tried to return the favor by leaving the place when Betty's boyfriend was on his way. Often she thought that she was too old to live in someone else's tiny apartment without an oven and often with no hot water. She thought that this was college life; living on top of someone you didn't chose and leave socks on the door. At twenty-four, she had hoped this part of her life would be over. This was the third Friday night in a row that she went for a long run along the streets of Boston. The wind was cold and she shuddered as she stepped onto the street.

"Hey" Neil called. "You going for a run again?"

She gave him a quick hug.

"Have to keep in shape" she joked.

"Great. You make me feel amazing about going upstairs and eating pizza."
Quinn laughed and waved goodbye to Betty's boyfriend, whom soon would want move into the apartment and to live three people within those walls would be unbearable. She would have to find something else, she thought as she began to run slowly, breathing in the freezing air. She had never been a runner. Puck had been and she had never understood it. She was used to doing laps on the football field for cheerleading, something she had always hated. This was something else. This was a distraction and made her feel strong. She loved the way her legs almost felt numb after a run. She loved the way her lungs ached. She never ran fast but far, endlessly far, all the way over the town she had never really thought about before now. And every time she found herself outside her own apartment. It was half hers, anyway. Santana had told her to talk to Puck, to make him buy her out of it so that she could get her own place. But she hadn't done it.

"Hey, Quinn, right?"

She had stopped, without really noticing it. She was once again outside Puck's apartment. The man who spoke to her lived on the same floor as she had and Puck did. She couldn't remember his name but his wife had made them pumpkin pie when they first moved in.

"Yes" she said, smiling and drying the sweat off her forehead.

"I'm Doyle. I live in the apartment across the hall."
"I know" she half-lied. "How are you?"
"Oh, great. How about you? I haven't seen you in a while."
More like two years, she thought.

"I'm great. I just don't live here anymore, so that's probably why you haven't run into me on the stairs" she smiled.

She glanced upwards. There were lights on in the apartment. Puck was useless at turning them off when he went out. He probably wasn't home on a Friday night. Most people weren't.

"Really? Oh, I didn't know. Your name is still on the door" Doyle said.

Quinn lowered her eyes to look at him. She bit her lip.

"Is it?"
"Yeah."

"I guess he's just lazy" she grinned and shuddered.

The cold was leaking in through her sweatshirt. It would take her at least an hour to get back.

"Do know the time?" she asked, her teeth clattering loudly.

Doyle had a concern look on his face as checked his watch.

"Almost nine."
"Great. Thanks."
"Sure."

"I have to get home."

She waved lamely at him, turned and started to run back the same way as before. It hadn't even crossed her mind that Puck might have come home any minute and find her there. She closed her eyes and thanked God that he hadn't. She would have to keep away from this place, for her own good. Your name is still on the door. She decided not to think about it ever again and forbid herself to see it as some kind of a sign.

…

"You didn't know?"

Santana sighed.

"No, of course I didn't know. I would have told you."
They drank wine for breakfast because Quinn always worked nights and Santana was gone during the day. Rachel sat on the couch, eating cornflakes and eyeing them worriedly. Quinn chose to ignore her.

"Three months."

"Rebound, Q, ever heard of that?" Santana drawled, pouring herself more of the crappy wine Quinn had found at the small corner shop next to Al's.

"You don't date a rebound. You sleep with her and move on."

"Come on. He probably didn't want to just get laid. He wanted someone like you."

"She's nothing like me" Quinn snapped.

"How do you know?" Santana sighed. "You've never met her."
Quinn took the bottle and drank directly from it. The wine made her tired body soft and warm. Maybe she could sleep today. Maybe a little bit.

"Is this some kind of thing that you want him back so that no one else can have him?" Santana asked. "That's petty. Especially since you were the one to end it."
Quinn put down the bottle with too much force. The table shook and knocked over her own empty glass. Santana caught it before it crashed onto the ground.

"I wanted him back before I knew about her."

"Did you tell him that?"
"Well… No. Or maybe. I thought I did."

Santana sighed and checked the clock on the wall. She was going to be late for work, Quinn thought, and silently wished that she would skip it.

"Q. You need you realize that you ended it and-"

"If you are going to tell me to blame myself, don't bother."
Santana sighed again.

"I can't pick a side" she said.

"I know."

Quinn watched her pick up her coat and leave. Rachel came over and kissed the top of Quinn's head. The action was affectionate and sweet and Quinn hated it. She didn't want to be treated like a puppy, someone you pitied.

"You should go to bed" Rachel whispered in a very soft voice.

"I will."
"We'll do something fun later. We could go see a show or get ice cream or-"

"I have to work tonight" Quinn cut across her.

She didn't want to watch a jolly Broadway musical or eat sprinkles or feel better like they did in girlie movies.

"This weekend then" Rachel suggested, patiently.

Quinn nodded mutely. Rachel left too. Kurt hadn't come home last night. She was all alone. In desperation to do something, she swallowed the rest of the wine. It made her feel sick. Everything made her feel sick. She found her phone in her purse and called him. Without a second thought. He answered at the third ring. She hung up.

…

Henry looked nervous after Quinn had shut off the camera and stopped asking him questions for the documentary. On screen, he looked collected and intellectual, but as he watched Quinn pack her equipment, he looked like a schoolboy.

"Thank you again" she said.

"Sure" he mumbled. "Sure. Anything."

She wanted to ask him more things, to ease the mood, but she realized that she didn't really know anything about him.

"You're still at Yale then?" she asked dumbly.

"What? Oh, yeah."

"Still married?" she asked, with a smile to show that she was joking.

"Actually no" her former lover replied. "We decided to… separate."

"Not because of me, I hope."

"Well-, not only you."
Quinn laughed. It was so easy being with him now that she felt nothing. He was just someone who had entered her life and then left it.

"Are you seeing anyone?" he asked.

"No" she answered, packing the microphones carefully into their case.

"Busy with this documentary, I guess."
She nodded.

"Very. I do it in my free time."

She looked down into her bag to see that everything was in order. When he touched her arm, she jumped.

"Sorry" he mumbled. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine."

He took a step closer and Quinn knew what he was going to do a fraction of second before he did it. The kiss was sloppy and nervous and she didn't kiss him back.

"Sorry" he said again.

"No" she said in a steady voice. "I just… I just wanted a psychologist's opinion for the documentary. I didn't mean to come here and-."
"Oh. Sorry."

She tilted her head. She wondered if he was still dating students. Young girls whom had had dreams all through high school about speaking to someone who was adult and understood them and liked poetry. She had been one of them, at least for a while.

"I think I should go."

He nodded. His office looked exactly like it had all those years ago when his wife had found them here. She had changed so much, grown up and grown out of doing things just because someone else wanted her to do them.

"I hope I said some things that are usable" he said, suddenly very formally.

He held out his hand to her and she shook it. The situation was getting more and more bizarre.

"It was great" she promised. "I might call you again. Is that okay?"

He nodded and opened the door from her. He smelled of the same cologne. She hadn't thought of that smell for years and years and there it was.

"You take care" she said and meant it.

"You too" he said and maybe he meant it too.

…

"This is the worst idea in the history of time" Santana said.

"Hey, don't hold back" Quinn muttered.

"It's like a ten hour drive."
"Twelve."

"Twelve hour drive. You two. Alone."

"Is this an intervention?" Quinn asked exasperatedly.

Beth's birthday was tomorrow. She was going to take the bus to Boston and he was going to pick her up there. Almost like old times, but then again, not at all like old times.

"It isn't" Rachel intervened. "We are just concerned for your well-being."
"It'll be fine. We'll talk about the weather or something."

"For twelve hours?" Santana asked.

"You're right" Rachel said. "You're not in a relationship anymore, Quinn; you have no obligation to make small talk with him."

"It's just a ride" Quinn told Santana.

"Okay. Whatever. Have you even spoken to each other since you slept with him and then stormed off?"

"No. We e-mailed."
"Great."
Quinn zipped her bag shut. She looked forward to nothing with this trip. Not seeing her worried mother and not trying to engage with a moody Beth and not driving with Puck. And still she was going to do all of it. Perhaps it was her version of self-harm.

"You even made snacks?" Santana asked dryly.

"I always make snacks."
"That's nice" Rachel commented.

"Thanks."
She checked that she had her train ticket while Santana and Rachel watched her impassively.

"All set" she said, almost hearing the dread in her own voice.

"You can still back out" Santana said.

"I really can't. It'll be fine" she lied. "As long as the car doesn't break down or something."

"Say hi to Beth from me" Rachel said. "I can't believe she's turning eight!"

"I'm too old to have a daughter who's eight" Quinn sighed.

"I'm too young to have friend who keeps going on about her eight year old kid" Santana muttered.

Quinn rolled her eyes at her and turned back to Rachel.

"Keep me posted about apartment, if you decide to move out or whatever."
Rachel nodded.

"I'll e-mail you after our meeting."
"We are not having a meeting about it" Santana said.

Quinn hugged them both goodbye. Rachel clutched onto her like a child while Santana was stiff as a board.

"You're going to be gone three days" Santana said. "I think you will survive without us."
Quinn thought that yes, she would be fine now, but four or three months ago, she wouldn't have been.

…

Santana and Tanya threw a New Year's Eve party in the wonderful apartment they now shared. It was the first time since High School that one of Quinn's friends was able to invite all their friends to the same party. Santana was the first one who had left the one-bedroom-apartments behind her and entered the life of multiple bathrooms. Quinn found Rachel and her roommate Clarissa and managed to find them a bottle of champagne to share.

"He's here" Rachel whispered.

"Who?"

"Puck."

"Oh. Is he?" Quinn asked, trying to act nonchalant.

"Yeah, over there."

Rachel pointed too obviously and Clarissa giggled. Puck noticed them and waved.

"He's coming over" Rachel whispered.

"I can tell" Quinn muttered tersely.

He had the same old suit he always wore. The same one he had worn to Mr. Shuester's wedding and to all the Yale things she had brought him to and to Frannie's wedding. It still him fit him well. She had bought a new dress; the first new thing she had purchased for herself in ages. Sam and Betty had made her do it. It was tight and black and low in the back.

"Hi" he said rather awkwardly.

"Hi" she said.

Rachel broke the tension by stepping forward and kissing his cheek in a worldly manner. She introduced Clarissa and they all made small talk about show business for a while.

She wondered if he had come alone. They could have ended up on the same train from Boston. She was glad they hadn't. She didn't know if it was okay to talk for an entire train ride and still be on a mission to get over each other.

"Hi" he said to her again when Clarissa and Rachel started arguing about Mandy Pantinkin in loud, fairly drunk voices.

"Hi."
He stepped forward and kissed her cheek too, just like Rachel had kissed his. The touch of his lips made her feel more intoxicated then three glasses of champagne. She clamped her hands together to resist the urge to touch him; stroke his face or grab a hold of one of his sleeves.

"How are you?" she asked instead.

"Good. Nice to have a break, though, from work, I mean."
"Perks of being a teacher" she nodded.

"Perks of being an under qualified teacher" he corrected her, winking.

"Are you doing it? Getting the degree?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Yeah. Just night classes though so it'll take me half my life."

"Good for you."
He smiled at her. He seemed calmer in her presence than she had expected. Perhaps he had moved on. Perhaps he was more drunk than he seemed.

"How about you?" he asked.

"I got my job back. Didn't Santana tell you? No, not even my old job, a real one. With pay."

She had waited for such a long time to tell him that the words escaped her mouth without any real thought. She was bragging, she realized.

"She did tell me. I just wanted to hear you say it. Congrats, Quinn. That's great."

He held out his glass of champagne and toasted her. She laughed and did the same. All around them were people. Older people, Tanya's friends, and younger people, and kids and even a dog. And all she hardly noticed. She never wanted him to leave, never wanted him to find someone else to talk to. She wanted to just stand here and talk to him all night. Because she had missed him. She hadn't even realized how much until just now.

"I've missed you" she whispered before she could stop herself.

She couldn't remember how it had happened but seconds later he was gone and she was alone.

…

"I had a flashback" Santana said as they stood on the street outside the apartment building while she smoked. "When I looked over and saw you talking."
"Really?" Quinn said.

It was almost midnight. She kept checking the time on her phone so that they wouldn't miss the countdown.

"You looked just like you always looked. Before. Not tense or anything. Just smiley and happy."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"You look in love."

Quinn checked the time again. 11:52.

"I slipped up. Told him that I miss him."

"Is that a slip up? Just seems kind of honest."
"We're supposed to be moving on."
"Right."
Santana lit another cigarette. Quinn shivered in her tiny dress. 11:54

"He looked scared when I said it."

"Of course he did. He's fucking terrified of you."
"Wow. Thanks."
"Oh, come on, Q. You know he is. You broke his heart."

"Well, I won't do it again then. I'll keep my feelings to myself."
Santana dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. She exhaled and the cold air turned into smoke in front of them. Someone was already shooting fireworks against the dark sky. Quinn checked the time; no, there was still time.

"Nothing is going to happen if you don't act."
"Nothing is supposed to happen, remember?"

"Ugh" Santana sighed, almost disgustedly. "Let that go. Looking at the both of you pining away is killing the mood for the entire party."
"But-"

"He's scared. You were scared before, remember? You think that solved any problems?"
"No."

"Then you two need to muster up some fucking courage."

And with that, Santana stomped inside. Quinn followed. As they made their way up the stairs, they heard people counting down from ten. Santana took Quinn's hand and they raced the last flight. As it became a new year, they stumbled back in the mist of people who cheered and toasted and screamed. Quinn's eyes found Puck. He was talking to someone she didn't recognize. She was done being scared and she hoped that he was too.

…

He did actually look scared as he opened the door with her name still on it. He looked scared and she felt more than scared and, hell, how was she going to do this?

"Hello" she said, like it was no big deal that she had dropped in on like this, on a Tuesday evening.

"Hi" he replied.

"Are you busy?"
"No, not really. Grading some papers."

"Okay" she said.

Her fingers trembled so she stuck her hands down the pockets of her sweatshirt. She guessed that she had about three minutes of bravery and the seconds were ticking away.

"I think we need to talk" she told him.

"About what?" he asked, not unkindly, but not sounding very excited either.

He was still holding on to the door with one of his hands, ready to close it in her face. It was such a clear sign of how much she had hurt him and almost made her choke.

"It's been two years since we broke up, almost two years. And I still love you. And I still want to be with you, maybe more than ever."

He said nothing. That was good because it made her able to follow the script she had in her mind, the one she had written on the back of a takeout menu but then thrown away. But it was also unnerving. He was never this quiet.

"And if you don't feel the same way. That's fine. Then I'll leave and I won't bring it up again."
Her words hung in the air between them. She was still standing in the hallway. At any minute one of the neighbors could come up the stairs. She knew this but did not ask to come in to the apartment.

"We decided-" he began.

"I know, I know. But I'm asking you about how you feel about me."

"You decided to break up with me and then this summer, I decided that we needed to move on for real. We both made decisions" he told her and it struck her how much he sounded like her; guarded and frightened and clinging to logic.

"Please" she begged. "Just tell me if there's any point of me going on with what I came here to say."
He looked at her, and wow, she had almost forgotten how he could look at her. Like all her clothes and skin and bones went away and all that was left was her heart and feelings and everything that beat for him.

"Go on" he said softly.

It was vague but it was enough for now. She smiled for the first time, a smile of relief and nerves because this part to come was maybe the hardest part. Or maybe ever part was the hardest.

"You never took my name off the door" she said.

"No" he said, and seemed to notice how he was still holding onto the door and let go of it hastily.

His arms hang awkwardly along his sides and she thought he looked younger than he had in years; the same look on his face as he had had when he found out that she was pregnant. Terrified and crestfallen and confused.

"I was scared. I have always been scared" she began. "Ever since I was a kid I have been scared of things. Of my father, of not doing well enough or looking good enough. I was scared for my baby and of my baby and of you, most of all, of you. How you made me feel."

He said nothing. She watched him breathe in and out. It looked like it took some effort.

"You told me that you loved me in that hospital when Beth was born, that you loved me more than ever, and I was so happy and so scared and I didn't speak to you for a year."

"I remember" he said rather tersely.

"I lost Beth and it hurt so much. I didn't want you to hurt me too."

"Instead you hurt me."

"I'm sorry for that" she said.

"I know. It's fine. It's been years."

She believed him. He was one to forgive. He was good and pure and he had forgiven her for what an awful person she had been to him. He never brought it up, never threw it in her face. But she imagined that it still hurt sometimes; the first time she had left him.

"I'm not scared anymore" she told him, empathizing every word.

"Your legs are shaking" he said, smiling at her.

"Fine. I'm scared of some things. I would be a psycho if I wasn't. But I'm not scared of losing you. Because I already did and the worst thing already happened. Nothing can be as bad as losing you and yet, here I am. I survived."

They both heard someone coming up the stairs and waited until a man in a parka had panted his way onto the floor above.

"You're scared of me" she said to Puck. "I can see it on your eyes and who am I to judge?"

"I never again want to feel the way I felt when you left me at that hospital" he said, his voice low.

"I know. I get that. And I can't promise that I will never do that again, because you know, this is life and it's unpredictable and crazy. But I don't think I will. I'm fairly certain that I won't, actually."

He smiled now, a careful smile and she loved him for it. A tiny encouragement. Even now, he was trying to make her feel more confident.

"If you don't love me anymore, that's a good reason. If you don't want to love me, that's another one. But if you love me and is just too scared to do it, that's exactly what you always told me to get over. You always told me to love is the scariest thing but we all need it and crave it and that I just had to let go of the fear."

Her script was over. That was her last line. From now, she would have to improvise. If he said something, she would have to reply. If he didn't say anything, she would have to leave. Say goodbye and call a cab and leave him alone forever. That was the vow she had taken. This was it. And her three minutes of bravery were long gone.

"It's easier to say than actually do" he sighed.

"That's what I always said" she smiled.

But what he said was actually one step closer to an answer. And even if she didn't have a script or had even thought out what to say next, she felt oddly happy. Again she realized how much she had missed him; how cruel it was for the world to keep them apart. How cruel she had been to herself and to him.

"Why didn't you take my name off the door?" she asked, the only thing she could think of to say.

"Aren't you going to ask why I never talked to you about selling the apartment? Or called to ask when you wanted to pick up your espresso machine? Or deleted your number off my phone? Or why I asked you to drive with me to Lima for Beth's birthday even though we had broken up? Or why I kissed you when you came back from Paris?"

"Yes" she said. "I want to ask you all those things."

"Well, why didn't you?"

"I was scared."

"And now?" he asked.

"And now I'm not. Why did you didn't you take my name off the door even though you dated someone else?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he sighed.

"Say it anyway."

"Because it felt temporary, like you were always coming back to live here with me, like you would make coffee in our kitchen again. And I wanted so badly to see you, to be alone with you for twelve hours and I wanted so badly to kiss you that day when you came back from Paris."

"Me too" she said.

"What happens now?" he asked.

"You decide what you want to do. I have already decided. I want you. I love you. Now it's up to you."

She nodded to show him that this was the part when he had to speak. He didn't. He stood mutely and watched her. She wondered what she would do if he said no. She wondered what she would do if he said yes. She hadn't thought this far ahead.

"Do you want to come inside?" he finally asked.

"No, it's fine" she said.

He extended his hand and pulled hers out of the sweatshirt pocket. He held her hand and she entwined their fingers out of habit and he pulled her close. She stood inches away from him. He stared at her with such intensity that it almost scared her. But his eyes weren't black. They were soft and her heart beat fast in her chest.

"I miss you too" he almost whispered. "I never told you on New Year's. I was too scared."

"And now? Are you still scared?" she asked.

"I miss you too" he repeated.

She decided not to push it. She decided that this was probably as much of an answer she would get tonight. It was fair. She had barged in on him, he hadn't been prepared for her speech. But she had to kiss him. She had known it from the minute she set foot on his landing. If he didn't tell her to leave, she would have to kiss him. For her own sake. For her own desire's sake. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips, ever so gently.

"Sorry" she whispered, even though she didn't mean it.

He didn't say anything. He bent his head down and kissed her back; kissed her like she had never kissed her before, with a passion she had never before experienced. And there she had her answer, because that was not a scared man's kiss.

…

Despite the years that had passed, the apartment looked almost exactly the same as it had the night they drove to New Haven hospital to see Alisha. Quinn walked through it, round and round and realized that this was her home. Everything else was just temporary.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked.

She nodded. She felt thirsty after kissing for such a long time. Her lips were tingly, she pressed her fingers against them and almost felt the feeling of him being transferred through the skin.

"I have beer. And coke. Water. And coffee, of course."

She smiled.

"I'll have a beer, please."

"You hate beer" he asked.

"I think I might give it another shot."

He laughed and handed her a cold, opened bottle. She took a swig and no, it wasn't a best thing ever, but she didn't hate it. But then again, in this moment, probably anything would have tasted good.

"Are you okay?" she asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, feeling rather shy in front of him now.

"Yes" he exhaled. "Yes, I really am."
She smiled and looked down at her feet.

"You haven't changed much about the place, have you?" she teased.

"Nope" he grinned. "I bet that if you open the fridge, there is like a two year old jar of mustard in there."

She laughed quietly and inched closer to him. It just felt like such a waste to be with him and not stand as close as she could.

"How's Hannah? I promised to call her but I never did and-"

"Quinn, do we really need to talk about Hannah right now?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.

"What's wrong with now?"
"Because I keep thinking of you naked."

She snorted and slapped his cheek lightly.

"Don't. You're making me blush."
He put down his beer on the counter and did the same with hers, even though she had only really taken a sip. She didn't mind though.

"I have missed you so much" he said and kissed her again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her up onto the counter. She knocked over the bottles but didn't care. It felt wonderful to feel him again.

"Don't you want to take it slow?" she asked. "To get your head around this whole thing?"

"No" he replied.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."
They kissed and kissed and kissed until she finally took the first step and pulled his shirt over his head.

"I knew you were thinking of me naked too" he grinned.

She shut him up with a kiss. His hands found their way in under her dress and caressed and stroked in all the right places. No one knew her body like did. She hadn't slept with anyone since that awful day when she found about Karen and it had sucked, but now she was rewarded for it. Sleeping with anyone else but him would have been a disappointment.

"What does this mean?" she asked, mid-kiss and he grunted in protest to more talking.

"What do you mean?" he replied, panting lightly as he kissed her neck.

"Is this a yes? Do you love me? Do you want to be with me?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you are just after sex and-"

He stopped kissing her and looked into her eyes. Gone was the laughter from his eyes. He looked dead serious and at the same time, very turned on. It was a nice blend, Quinn decided.

"I love you. I have always loved you and I will always love you. Do you need me to sign some kind of contract or can I go back to kissing you?"
She laughed and pulled him in. He smelled the same, but better. Just like she was the same person, but better.

"When was the last time you changed your sheets?" she giggled as he carried her to the bedroom.

"I can't remember" he replied. "But you'll live."

And she thought that, yes, yes she would.

…

Waking up next to him was the best thing, she decided. His alarm went off at seven but he just rolled over and grunted something. She leaned across his body and turned off the loud ringing sound.

"Good morning" she whispered.

He rolled back over on his back and looked up at her. He rested his upper body on his elbows so that he could kiss her. She kissed him back.

"You're still here" he said softly.

"Did you hope that I would sneak out in the middle of the night?" she teased.

"No" he replied. "Never."

She realized that she wouldn't have time to go home before work. Or reapply her makeup since she hadn't brought any of it with her. Or even brush her hair because she doubted that Puck had a hairbrush.

"We have to get up" she said, as the responsible adult she sometimes pretended to be.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. I have to get to work and it's on the other side of the city."

He grunted again. She kissed his forehead lightly. This was the morning, this was the start of a new day. He couldn't be in shock anymore. He still wanted her. She still wanted him. It all seemed like a miracle.

"We still need to talk about some things" she told him.

"Like what? You still like meat sauce, right? That's what for dinner tonight."

"No, not that" she smiled.

"You mean when you are planning to move in?" he asked. "I say, tonight. We'll celebrate with that meat sauce."
"Be serious."
"I am. I have never been this serious in my life. At least not this early in the morning."

She rolled her eyes and he laughed and then they were kissing again. She lost track of time and when she came up for air, it was already 7:30 am and shit, they were late.

"Shit" she muttered, getting out of bed and picking up the clothes she had worn yesterday.

They weren't really work clothes; a white wrinkly t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. She looked herself in the mirror and sighed at the mascara under her eyes.

"This wasn't part of the plan" she sighed. "I was supposed to go home and put on my nice suit."

"I love it when you don't stick to your plans" he said, siding up next to her and kissing her neck. "I'll make you breakfast. What do you want?"
"You realize that you start work in like twenty minutes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine, toast it is."

She laughed and sighed once again over her clothes. She pulled them one and tried to smooth of the wrinkles with her hands. It was useless. She took some toilet paper drained in water and scrubbed away the makeup under her eyes.

"Check the closet" Puck called from the kitchen. "I think there's still something there of yours."
She opened the door to the unlit closet. Unfolded shirts and jeans were sloppy stacked on the once so organized shelves. She lifted some of it aimlessly, not knowing what she was looking for. Puck came into the bedroom and handed her a piece of toast with ham. He purposefully searched inside the closet for about a minute before pulling out an armful of clothes, things she hadn't even missed. Quinn found a black dress that was fine and a cardigan that was yellow and smelt a bit funny, but looked good. She could buy pantyhose at the drugstore.

"Handy" she told him.

He grinned with his toothbrush in his mouth. She wanted to kiss him for still having her things in the closet. It felt like another thing that indicated that the breakup had only been temporary, like her name on the door.

"You'll come over tonight, right?" he asked, as they jogged down the stairs.

"Yes" she said. "I still have some things that are yours. I'll bring them."
"Bring all your things" he said. "Move in."

…

Being with him once again made everything better. It was a tired cliché and Quinn knew it but despite that she kept thinking it day after day. The feeling of utter joy was addicting, waking up next to him every morning intoxicating and falling asleep in his bed strangely rewarding. She kept thinking to herself that she needed to be more focused at work. She did love it and everything about it and still, every afternoon at her desk passed ever so slowly. She hadn't called her mother once since the night she had decided to appear on Puck's doorstep. She hadn't talked to Santana or anyone of her friends. Partially she hadn't done those two things because she didn't know what to say. Lying felt stupid and childish but still there were still things that she and Puck had to work out before Quinn felt safe enough to spread the word about their reunion. Because this time, it was for real. She could feel it in every bone in her body. This was time it was forever or not at all. They weren't kids anymore; there was no more time for lying and pretending. And every day at work, she promised herself that today was going to be the day when she sat him down and discussed life. And every day, she avoided it. Because she was so happy, so in love and she could see that he was so in love with her back. Being loved in that way she was almost made her crazy. Having someone who always wanted to talk and who listened and who looked at you like you were the most amazing person in the world… She wanted to be happy because she had been unhappy for so long. One day an invitation to Frannie's son Jasper's christening arrived per email. Quinn looked at it on the screen and decided that this was it. Either he could come with her to the christening and they would tell her entire family, or he wouldn't.

…

"Did you tell anyone about us?" she asked.

"Are you worried?" he teased. "Are we a secret?"
She rolled her eyes at him.

"Have you?"
"No, not yet."
"Okay."
She leaned over, took the remote from him and lowered the volume on the TV. The black and white documentary about the Russian revolution went on without the sound.

"Hey" he said meekly, fighting her to the get remote back.

"We need to talk" she announced, holding the plastic control above her head and away from him.

"Can't we do it during one of those animal shows you love?" he asked.

"No. And I'm not the only one who likes them. You watched two seasons of Whale Wars without me."

"You ruined me" he claimed and then kissed her and she was millimeters away from giving up and kissing him back.

She pulled away.

"I told you, we need to talk."

"Fine" he said. "Go ahead."

Quinn inhaled as she watched the mute documentary as an actor portraying a soldier died in the snow. She cleared her throat.

"Frannie invited me to her son's christening" she began.

"Baby Jasper, right?"
"Yes. Baby Jasper" Quinn said absent-mindedly as she tried to find the right words to use. "You can't come with unless we have this talk."

He laughed. He was happy too, she could see it on his face. He was just as inconceivably happy as she was. She had never heard laugh this much ever. And he was a person that laughed a lot.

"Maybe I don't want to come."

She waved away his comment as if it didn't matter. That made him laugh even more.

"We need to sober up and deal with real things" she said.

"Alright" he said "I feel dread."

"Don't. Or do. I don't know."

"You're not really reassuring me, Q" he smiled. "I thought we talked this out like three weeks ago on the hallway? I told that I will love you forever and then we had the best sex ever. Do you remember?"

"We didn't just breakup because I was scared. Or well, indirectly we did. But my point is, the kid thing. We still have to talk about it."

She saw his face fall and with it her heart. All she wanted to be was joyful forever but this was a necessary evil.

"We don't" he said.

"Yes, we do" she insisted.

"No, we don't. I made up my mind already. I'd rather be with you and have no kids at all then the other way around. No question."

"You say that now…"

"Quinn, I was without you for two years and I hated every minute of it. No, I didn't just hate it, I almost didn't survive it. At least it felt that way. And I never felt that way when we gave Beth away. That was a big sorrow and shit, but it wasn't the same."

She looked at him and thought that she loved him more than what was probably sane. She wondered how he could be this good, despite everything that had happened to him; his father, Beth, she herself."
"I haven't made up my mind" she said simply.

"Okay" he said, giving her a half-smile. "I sort of poured my heart out and all you have is that? Weak, honey."
"I had made up my mind before and now I haven't. Anymore."

What she was saying finally dawned on him. He grinned wider but didn't punch the air or shout and she was relieved by it.

"What made you un-make up your mind?" he asked instead.

"Beth, actually. Spending time with her" she said. "It made me realize that I'm not a horrible person. That you are probably the best person in the world. And knowing that, mixing our DNA can't turn out that bad."

"Ha! What I always said. Our kids can't turn out that bad."

"I'm not saying yes, but hell, we're still too young and too poor and we're not even officially together yet. I just wanted you to know."
He kissed her and she kissed him back.

"Thanks for telling me" he said softly.

"Are you okay with my non-answer?"

"Yes."

She believed him. They had been through so much and Puck never lied.

"Do you want to come with me then?"

"Yes. I love a good christening."

"Idiot" she mumbled affectionately.

"And aren't we officially together?" he asked. "I thought we were. I told our lovely neighbor Doyle that my girlfriend moved back in."
"Well if you told Doyle" she sighed "then I guess we have to be a real couple."
"Damn Doyle" Puck whispered.

He leaned in and kissed her again and distracted her enough to steal back the remote. He turned the sound back on. The tsar was dying and Quinn felt like she had never been happier.

Almost two years later

His car was black and still shiny and she could hear Van Morrison from the open window.

"Hi" he said, leaning to open the door for her from inside.

She stuffed her bag in front of her knees and closed the door. She had packed snacks, she always packed snacks. Marshmallows, peanut butter sandwiches and really red apples, because they were the ones he really liked.

"Hi" she said and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

He backed out of parking space in front of her office and drove through the city of Boston. It the hottest day of the year so far and she felt sweaty and still she didn't dread the drive at all.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Fine" she said. "And you?"

"Not too bad" he replied.

Like an old married couple, like two people who said hello by asking how the day had gone and not really wanting to know how it went. Not now. If something important had happened, they would bring it up later. At this point, the question was about confirming that the other person was there.

"Just twelve hours to go" he said lightly, just like he always did on the beginning of this trip, the trip to Beth.

"If the car doesn't break down" she said happily, fiddling with the air conditioning.

Traffic was heavy and it took ages to get onto the highway. Quinn handed him an apple and took one herself; she had eaten since lunch and felt her blood sugar dropping.

"You got the present?" she asked.

"Yep, talked to Santana about borrowing their place while they're in the Hamptons. And I printed the tickets out myself. Five tickets to see Cats on Broadway."

"Five?"

"Rachel heard of it and wanted to join. I guess it makes sense, she is kind of family."

Quinn nodded.

"Yes, we're all family" she said a bit sarcastically but not much.

"Hey, that's a good thing. More family for us without fathers, huh?"

"Yes" she said softly. "Of course."

Her phone buzzed. She found it in her purse and read the e-mail from Miranda. She was asking how many people Quinn wanted to bring to premiere of Daughters at Boston Film Festival next month. Quinn still couldn't get her head around that her film was showing at a major film festival. She couldn't have done it without Miranda of course, but still it was her work. Years and years in the making. She wrote back that she would have to think about it.

"Can you believe she's turning ten?" Quinn asked, just like she always seemed to ask on this road.

"I'm too old to have kid that's ten" he replied, because that was something they always said too.

They smiled at each other. Beth was then and Quinn was twenty-six and their ages would always be parallel with each other.

"Do you think she would want to come and see the film?" she asked.

"I think she would love it. A premiere. Who wouldn't want to go to that?"

"Maybe she'll take it the wrong way. I mean, it's quite harsh."

"I think she can handle it."

"If Shelby thinks that it's okay, I'll ask her."
"Good. Now the only question is, can I wear my suit or do I have to buy a new one?"

She laughed and was just about to reply when her phone buzzed again. She sighed heavily since she had told Miranda that she was going home and not working this afternoon. But it wasn't an email; it was a call from an unknown number.

"Hello" she said.

"Hi."

"Who is this?"
There was a short silence. Puck had lowered the volume on the stereo. All Quinn heard were the tires against the road and someone breathing into the other end.

"Alisha."

"Alisha?"
Puck jolted. He almost turned the wheel when he swerved his body to look at her. The car behind them honked twice.

"I read an interview with you in the Yale newspaper and-"

"Are you okay?" Quinn interrupted.

"Yes."

Puck was mouthing something but she turned her attention away from him and focused on the small voice in her ear.

"Are you really?" she asked stupidly.

"Yeah. I promise."

"Your father-"

"He doesn't know where I am. I've been staying with a friend for like year since I came back to New Haven."

"Good. We were so worried."
Puck yanked on her arm and mouthed she's okay? She nodded.

"Am I still in the documentary or did you edit me out?" Alisha asked.

"You're still in. I- I didn't want him to win, your father."

"Okay."

"Is it okay?"

"Yes, I don't want him to win either."
"I tried to contact you, to get your consent once again, but you were gone."

"Right."

"Do you want to come to premiere?" Quinn babbled out. "A lot of the girls are coming. There's a seminar after with an adoption counselor and then a debate between… But you don't have to stay for that."

"When is it?" Alisha asked.

"Next month. The tenth."
"Okay."

"Okay?"
"Yeah. I just have to find something to wear."

Quinn laughed.

"You and Puck both."

"Is he there?"

"Yes."

"Thank him from me, for everything."
"I will."
"And thank you" Alisha said, rather shyly.

"Thank you" Quinn said and meant it.

There was a longer silence than before. She exhaled slowly.

"I'll call you on this number and we can talk about the premiere."

"Yes."

"I'm so glad to hear from you, Alisha" she said, her voice almost uneven. "I've been so worried."
Alisha laughed dryly.

"God, you sound like a mom."