Author's Note: Extended scene for 1x11 "Hairography."

Kendra's triplets, it turns out, are not hellish demons once they're able to calm down.

After two rousing rounds of "Itsy, Bitsy Spider" and "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" – the only songs all five of them know the lyrics to – Puck puts down his guitar, slips his cell phone inside his back jeans pocket, and says, "It's bath time!" in a voice that Quinn has never heard him use. He almost sounds…paternal.

As the five of them troop into the bathroom, Quinn grabs the shampoo and thrusts it into his hands, saying to Puck, "Make sure it's all washed out." It's second-nature for her to take control in this kind of situation. She did, after all, babysit the church choir director's toddler for pocket change when she was eleven, and she knows what she's doing. Sort of.

He takes the bottle gratefully and sets it on top of the toilet. "They'd be more comfortable if you left," he says, as one of them peels his shirt off and lobs it at Quinn. "I think."

She lets out a laugh and leans forward slightly to catch the shirt. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Don't drown them."

"I won't," he says, "Scout's honor." He mock-salutes and the boys dissolve into hysterics. She lets out a sigh and walks away, in search of a cool glass of water. In the quiet of the kitchen, she can hear four distinct laughs, and she laughs low and under her breath. At least things are going smoothly now.

Puck and the triplets are all wet when she comes back a short time later; she's carrying matching pajama sets in her arms. "I thought they would be dry?"

"They were until this one splashed us," Puck says, throwing his hands up in the air. "Toss me a towel," he pauses for a moment, "make that four."

She does. Kendra will have to do a lot of laundry later. So not her problem.

Once the boys are sufficiently dried off and wriggled into their pajamas, Quinn, with Puck's help, escorts them into their bedroom and helps to tuck each of them in. "Read us a story!" one of them says. The other two enthusiastically nod their heads.

Puck finds an old beloved book of his from childhood on one of their bookshelves and sits down on one of the beds. "There once was a velveteen rabbit," he reads, "and in the beginning, he was very splendid…"

"Yes," she thinks to herself, leaning against the doorframe and looking in at Puck doing all the character voices as the boys are struggling to keep their eyes open, "he could be a good father, after all." The ghost of a smile flickers across her face, and she ducks her head so Puck doesn't see it.

He catches a glimpse of her smile for a split second, before she turns away shyly. He's Noah Puckerman; he's put smiles on a lot of girls' faces over his life, though usually they turn to frowns over time as he breaks their hearts. Somehow it means more when it's her face, though.

That wasn't the only thing he would never tell her about that night, he thinks, as his cell phone rests in his pocket, blinking with new, unread messages.