A/N: Welcome to my little ficlet! I came up with this idea because I asked a bunch of Quick fans how/when they wanted Quinn and Puck to kiss again, then I realized that I had never given MY response. As I was coming up with my idea, I knew I needed to flesh it out a little bit more and this is what I came up with. This follows with everything that has happened in season 2 thus far so Quinn is with Sam and Puck went to juvie and is alone. I hope you enjoy this festive fic! Reviews are always appreciated! Xoxo-Katie

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "Winter Song" by Ingrid Michaelson and Sara Bareilles.

She knew something was wrong as soon as her fob didn't automatically unlock her car door. After she manually opened the car and slid the key into the ignition she prayed that it would turn over, but it didn't. Quinn glanced around and saw that none of the electronics in her car were operating. The clock wasn't even lit up and when she went to try her interior lights, she found that, somehow, they had been switched on. Quinn may have known next to nothing about cars, but she figured that her battery was probably drained.

Of all the days, she thought as she searched through her purse in the dark. It was the day school had let out for winter break and all of the finals were over. Most of the school was already deserted because Coach Sylvester was the only person cruel enough to force her team to practice during finals week. Calling her mother would be useless because Quinn seriously doubted that she even knew where the battery was located. Sam had left town right after school on his family's annual ski trip to Colorado so that was out of the question as well. She was about to call a tow company when she noticed an all too familiar black truck still in the parking lot.

He must still have a few weeks of his community service left.

Ever since he had come back from juvie, Miss Pillsbury had convinced Principal Figgins to let Puck work as a night janitor to fulfill his required six weeks of community service. Quinn had seen him mopping the floors or washing the chalkboards as she left the school each night. On the off chance that their eyes met, he would always offer her his signature smirk, a slight nod of his head and she would tentatively wave her hand. That was what they had come to, something just as indefinable as they were before. Were they friends? Could they ever be? She certainly wasn't angry with him anymore for punching Sam after he kissed Santana, not that she was that angry with him to begin with. Sam was a fresh start, a second chance. He was good for her image and even though he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box and was a little too obsessed with Avatar, he was sweet and nice and she didn't spend her nights crying into her pillow, at least, not because of him.

Quinn chewed on her bottom lip as she dialed Puck's number, tempted to hang up after only the third ring when she heard his voice.

"Hey?"

"Puck. Hi, it's ummm me, Quinn."

"I know it's you, babe," he replied with a slight chuckle.

"Right. Look, I think I need your help."

"What's wrong? Are you OK?"

She hated it when he asked her that. She had never quite known how to answer him because the truth was so complicated at times and he always knew when she was lying.

"I'm fine, but my car's dead, at least I think it is. I may have left the lights on somehow and I think I need a jump or something?"

"I'll be right there," he replied quickly and hung up the phone. Quinn tried not to notice that he didn't even need to ask where her car was or that it was less than a minute before he was rapping on her car window.

"I'm gonna drive my truck over," he explained when she opened the door. "I've got jumped cables in the back so just sit tight and pop your hood."

Puck cursed under his breath as he trudged through the snow covered parking lot. He hadn't bothered to grab his jacket from his locker and now he was standing outside in nothing but a thermal shirt and his janitor's uniform top as the mercury continued to fall further and further below freezing. He wished she didn't still have that power over him, that power that made him drop whatever he was doing whenever she called.

He didn't know what he had expected coming into the school year after not seeing or hearing from her all summer long, but he didn't think she would practically ignore him. He could respect the fact that she wanted to be independent and focus on herself but, he had to admit, it hurt when he came back from juvie to find her dating Lady Lips Evans. He was pissed when he heard Santana bragging about making out with Sam. Doesn't that idiot know how good he has it with Quinn? he had thought. Puck forgot about the fact that fighting in school could have jeopardized his parole and decked the Blonde Explosion one day after school, threatening to cut his fucking junk off if he ever hurt Quinn again. Of course, his actions didn't exactly send Quinn running into his arms, not that he really expected them to. He knew his point had been made, however, since from then on he had noticed her looking in his direction little more often than necessary.

Puck pulled his truck up in front of her red Jetta and grabbed the cables from the bed before he lifted the hoods on both of the cars. The cold metal stung his bare hands and he rubbed them together for warmth.

"I feel so stupid," Quinn said as she met him outside.

"It happens all the time, no big deal."

"Have you ever had to jump a car before?"

"Once, last year. It's been awhile so I hope I get the connection set up right."

He hooked up the cables to his battery and then placed one clamp onto the dead one. When he made the final link he quickly pulled his hand back and jumped into the air.

"Oh God! Puck! Are you OK?" Quinn shrieked in utter horror until she saw him double over with laughter.

"I can't believe you feel for that!" he exclaimed, reveling in the fact that his plan worked perfectly.

"That was so not cool. What if you had really gotten hurt?"

"Would you have cared?" Puck asked seriously, looking her in the eyes.

"Of course," Quinn replied sincerely and he held her gaze for a few moments before he went and started his car and instructed her to do the same.

"We'll let it run for a couple of minutes to make sure it charges and then you should be all good to go."

"Thanks a lot Puck," she said, standing once again. "I'm really glad you were still here."

"Don't mention it," he shrugged and looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm pretty sure I've told you before that you can just call me."

"Wow, that was really corny."

"Umm, I could have just left you out here, you know."

"You wouldn't have," Quinn challenged.

"Sure I would have," Puck countered.

"No, you would not have."

He shook his head as he began to disconnect the cables and take them back to his truck. As he sauntered back over to where Quinn stood he noticed a sneaky grin on her face.

"You're all set if you-."

Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, Quinn reached up and smashed a snowball over the top of his head, sending the cold, white fluff swirling into the air around them. When he opened his eyes to look down at her she was grinning wider than he had seen her smile in a long time.

"You're going to pay for that," he said slowly. He reached out for her but she quickly ducked away from him and ran around to the other side of her car. Puck scraped at the snow on top of her roof and formed a snowball of his own, tossing it gently at her so that it landed on her shoulder. Quinn laughed and soon they were running and sliding between his truck and her car, hurling and dodging snowballs. Puck took advantage of Quinn losing her footing on the icy blacktop to grab her and hold her close to him as they caught their breath.

She had almost forgotten what it was like to have his arms wrapped around her. It was different than anything and everything else. It was strong, yet gentle and she knew that she would never be hurt or get hurt while she was inside of them, but it was scary all at the same time. She was frightened when she remembered the last time he held her so close. It was her last night at his house before she left to stay with Mercedes and he had crawled into the full-size bed they had to share because his house was small and he just held her and she let him. Neither one of them had spoken. She didn't want to ruin the moment by reminiscing about the time they had spent together during the few months she stayed with him. She never told him how much she loved it when she woke up with one of his arms thrown over her and he never told her that it was never an accident or something he'd done in his sleep.

She realized as they stood in the cold that whatever they had been, whatever they were at that moment was defined not so much by what they had said to one another, but what they hadn't said; what they were too afraid to say.

The wind started to blow harder, whipping the fine powder into a flurry and Puck felt like he was in one of the snow globes he had seen in the store during that time of year. He became painfully aware of the fact that the perfect moment they were sharing was far too much like one of those globes because soon the snow would stop and the magic would be over. Quinn would climb into her once again perfect car, drive to her perfect house, call her perfect boyfriend and leave him looking like a perfectly ridiculous idiot. He was tired of it, of everything. He was tired of being brushed aside, of letting everything he cared about walk away again. Without giving it another thought, he brushed her golden hair away from her face and leaned down to kiss her for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

She didn't stop him. She knew she should have, but she didn't because he was Puck and she was Quinn and she thought that was enough for an instant. She didn't stop him because, deep down inside, she knew that was what she wanted. She recognized the faint voice urging her to wrap her arms around his neck and never let him go because it was the same one that told her to tell the truth all the way back at the beginning. It was the one that told her she would have stayed with him if only he had said he wanted her to. It was the same one that told her she could have kept her daughter and somehow made it work. It was the same one that told her that he probably missed her as much as she missed him and it was the voice she usually ignored, until then.

Reluctantly, Quinn felt him pull away and when she looked up at him she noticed that his mohawk was still peppered with snowflakes. She realized that he wasn't wearing a coat the entire time he had been helping her and she felt a pang of guilt.

"You should probably get inside," she said, clearing her throat. "You'll get sick if you stay out here."

"Yeah, uhh I have to finish some stuff up before I can go home," Puck replied, shuffling his feet a bit.

"Thanks again for the jump, I owe you."

"Like I said, no big deal. Have a good break, Quinn," he murmured as she climbed into her car and he closed the door for her. He watched her drive away and couldn't help but be reminded of when she had sat on Finn's lap as he steered them down the hallway, but this time it was different. This time, there was no lingering sense of obligation hanging over either of them, no guilt over betraying his best friend. No matter how similar they were, Sam wasn't Finn. Puck didn't give two flying fucks about whether or not he got hurt. This time he wasn't going to let her get too far away.

Quinn glanced back in her rear view mirror and saw Puck standing where she left him for a few more seconds before he turned and walked back towards the school. She felt bad leaving him there but she didn't know what else to do. She hadn't expected any of that to happen, couldn't even why it happened, but she wasn't exactly sorry about it. She clicked on her radio, hoping that the Christmas music would offer her the distraction she was looking for. She didn't recognize the haunting melody and turned the volume up just enough to catch some of the lyrics.

This is my winter song

December never felt so wrong

Cause you're not where you belong

Inside my arms

This is my winter song to you

The storm is coming soon

It rolls in from the sea

My love a beacon in the night

My words will be your guide

To carry you to me

Is love alive?

Is love alive?

Is love alive?

Is love alive?

When Quinn lay in her bed that night she tried to think of anything but Puck. Even when Sam had called to tell her that he had arrived safely in Colorado her mind was elsewhere. Her phone buzzed on her nightstand, and she sighed heavily, assuming it was a text from her boyfriend who probably didn't remember there was a time difference and that it was almost two o'clock in Ohio. She was surprised to see that it was from Puck.

"I'm not giving up," it simply read and as she saved the message and closed her eyes she didn't expect anything less.