Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

The words on his phone are barely registering, although he's pretty sure San is doing her best. Somewhere at the back of his mind he's pretty sure these texts are really freaking hot – fine work from the Lopez girl – but he can't bring himself to pay attention properly.

Which makes him wonder why he's even doing this.

He's paying way more attention to Quinn and these random ginger kids – who are they, anyway? – then he is to Santana's little messages. He wonders if she's getting off on corrupting youths; it sounds like her. Santana's always kind of been like a devil on his shoulder – well, not really, since they've always been as bad as each other and kept each other sliding down into depravity. He never cared before. He does care now, but possibly not as much as he should.

Quinn dances for the kids, singing some old Madonna song – now there's a hall-of-fame MILF – about the baby and her daddy issues or whatever. Puck can't help but thing she looks kinda like an angel when she does that – fuck, what a pussy-ish thing to think – all blond hair and choir voice. He can't admit he likes this beyond the fact they've gotten those kids to shut up for three seconds; he can't admit he likes seeing her sweet like this, for him, likes playing house and all this domestic crap they're trying.

Except he does. And if he's ever going to get her and the baby to stay with him, he needs to admit it.

She looks like she's having the time of her life dancing there, or at least the time of her last few months – he's not sure he's seen her truly happy since, well, Babygate started. It's not exactly a shock, he guesses; the whole thing doesn't exactly make him jump for joy either.

His cellphone is buzzing in his back pocket, but he ignores it. For now.

They stop their performance and he checks his texts, absorbs what 'Tana's telling him, sends back something to get her off. Quinn barely gives it a second look; he already got her to buy his bullshit about Mike. She's naive, really. She's played the head bitch for years, turned sniveling loser girls lives into hell, but when it comes down to it Quinn Fabray is the good little Christian girl in over her head and manipulated by the sexy bad boy; she's not bad and she never will be. He is. He wanted to make her bad like him, and honestly he doesn't know why. He doesn't think it was to make her more like him; being bad wouldn't be Quinn, and he wants Quinn, not any bad girl he can find in like, three seconds.

And she is in no way as naive as Finn, right?

Okay, she totally is.

Everyone either thinks Quinn and Finn are opposites-attract-perfect (because she's so smart and he's so dumb), or just way too different from each other and freaking bizarre, but Puck knows better. They're the same freaking person; Quinn-Finn-Finn-Quinn, the freaking names prove it. They're just a dumb, naive, sweet kid who wound up acting like a douche for a lot of their life and somehow became top of the food chain; fuck knows how.

He wants her. He might even love her, if he's capable of it.

He's so not thinking about the implications of that.

When he was inside her, he had to work so hard to force her to relax, make a sound, enjoy it somehow. He has a niggling sensation at the back of his head that, most of the time, he wouldn't care. But Quinn was different and he had to do everything to make her come; he did eventually succeed, but it was a bit of a distraction.

Maybe he's always been a bit in love with her, he doesn't know. Berry more or less said that when they broke up – Puck reckons there's something bad about him getting or almost getting into the pants of both his best friend's girls (and while Finn and Rachel can't do anything while he thinks that baby's his, everyone knows Rachel's his). There was something weird with Rachel; a sort of energy she emitted that made you... not want to set yourself on fire in her presence, no matter how annoying she got. His mother never looked more thrilled than when he brought her over – just to get stuff for a Glee assignment, because he's not a pussy and he does not bring his chicks to meet the family without extreme pressure – and yeah, he kind of admits that rocked. He's not that sure why.

The kids are sleeping now, and Quinn looks at them with the kind of softness he'd have to take photographic evidence of to get anyone to believe the Quinn Fabray is capable of. See, she might be the sweet girl at core, but that doesn't matter. What matters is, she's been head bitch for so long – the 'real' sweet girls think it's justice for what she did to them, and everyone else won't care enough about a bitch to feel guilty. Quinn is sometimes a freaking moron.

Hence why she hasn't noticed the massive log of texts between him and Santana.

He remembers, once, a time when he was kind of in love with her too – although maybe that was because it was when Finn first started mooning over Quinn, and losing your mind for a chick just kind of seemed like the thing to do. But Santana was something else; yeah, she was a crazy bitch, but that was kind of the whole point. She met him on his wavelength, and it was kind of awesome having someone completely enable you to not give a fuck about anything.

Quinn will be a great mom and he knows it, if he'll ever convince her to keep the baby with him; she's the anti-Santana, the one thing that makes him give a fuck outside himself. So of course, he's totally sabotaging the whole thing, but that's beside the point.

He kind of remembers once upon a time, that was Finn; they were best friends and, even when Puck was being a total dick, he'd try and let Finn get away with shit. Because that was what best friends meant; not being subject to the same doucheyness from each other as the rest of the world.

Then Puck knocked up Finn's girlfriend. So yeah.

When he thinks about it though, Puck steamrolled Finn out of that ages ago. He doesn't know why, but somehow, he treated Finn just like Quinn – tried to make him bad. Given they're the same person, maybe that shouldn't be such a problem, but it is. Maybe they've been best friends since they were four, but that doesn't mean Puck gets a single thing about the guy. He's an idiot, he's a wise man; he's the big man on campus, he's the social pariah; he's the rival, he's the comrade. Fuck if Puck knows.

(He feels like that's the kind of list that has to have the word 'lover' in there somewhere. Which Finn is not and will never be, duh, because one – pussy word, and two – he's not freaking queer.)

(That summer when they weren't quite fourteen and randomly discovered jerking each other off was better than jerking themselves off does not count).

It's kind of hilarious, because he knows Finn should be the one with Quinn here tonight. They're still the perfect couple and they always will be, and when it comes down to it, Puck's not going to get his baby. Fuck genetics; Quinn's decided it's Finn's and her word is law. She's trying this with him for tonight, but something will snap her out of it. Something always does. Even when he was inside her, even when he was enough of a girl to call out her name, three times loud and clear, it was still her boyfriend's name on her lips as she pleaded for his forgiveness. Well, that and Jesus's.

(And it was her name he called out, three times, no doubt about it. He called for the girl he was buried balls-deep in and had always wanted. There is no way in hell he called for her twice and slipped; let that deceptively similar name out of his mouth, called for Finn with her. No freaking way.)

(FinnQuinn, QuinnFinn.)

Okay, yeah, if Quinn gets a look at what he was sharing with her successive head bitch while they were learning Parenting 101, that probably won't help his case. But it's not like he has a case to start with – at least this way, she gets a fucking reason for thinking he'll screw it up, so he doesn't have to keep wondering what the fuck is so wrong with him anyway.

There's something off in that logic, isn't there?

Fuck, he's turned into a total freaking drama queen. He's reminding himself of Berry. Sure, her crazy can be funny at the best of times, but most of the time it's just annoying, and he really hopes he isn't as pathetic about being the spare as she is. Even though Rachel kind of told him he was, but she at least said it nicely.

The times dating Rachel Berry was awesome was when she wasn't going crazy; when she was listening to him sing for her, when she cleaned the slushie off his head, when she asked him to still be friends. Those moments when it actually kind of felt like having a normal girl, and he thought, Hey, I could dig this. Stick with this.

I could love this chick.

Of course, never lasted. Because Quinn was still carrying his kid, and Finn was still kind of in love with Rachel even though he thought Quinn's kid was his, and generally the whole thing was fucked up six ways from Sunday. It was totally unfair, but that didn't matter. It wasn't like Berry was putting out anyway.

He tells Quinn they can do this; the parenting thing. It's a lie, of course. Maybe they could, in a vacuum, but they seem caught in the crazy and they can't raise their girl. Puck wants to more than anything in the universe, but he's not stupid. That's what makes him different from Finn and Quinn.

He looks down at his phone – if Quinn finds all this shit, she'll flip, and it will be proof. She is inherently right and is inherently right, it's that simple; Santana in his ear like a cartoon devil.

Tap tap tap, tap tap tap.