Author's Note: This story something I thought of upon hearing a song played by Chet Baker and after a week of thought in the Northern woods of Wisconsin I was able to come up with a hopefully decent storyline. I've treated this as a child of mine with a bit of TLC so please please read with care and I sure hope you can enjoy it as much as I did writing/editing it!

Summary: He made a promise not to fall in love, and she promised herself that she wouldn't give anyone her heart or her time. What happens when a man from the Dillinger gang of Ohio meets Quinn Fabray, a girl living in spite of her mother in the erratic bustling age of the 1920s.

Rated: M to be safe for what lies ahead in further chapters.

Characters: Mainly Quinn and Puck with influences of other Glee characters.

Quinn Fabray sat on a steel Lima city bench taking in a long drag from her cigarette as a personal stab to the society the bustled around her almost unaware of her presence. Every once in a while a friend of her mother's or anyone who still lived in a lifestyle where women lived under man's thumb would scoff at her or whisper something to their significant other about the monstrosity that sat before them on a city bench, smoking a 'filthy' cigarette, wearing a dress that would make her mother wrap a blanket around her. No, she wasn't naked, or anything near to it, it was simply a dress that she had chosen an inch above the knee and didn't have dreaded sleeves on the humid summer dusk. It was the type of thing half of the women would wear around town giving the other half of women something to gossip about. She could care less though and as a reminder to everyone around her she took in another slow drag from her cigarette before blowing out a steady stream of smoke in front of her.

She watched as the light grey smoke floated up towards the city light filled sky and dissipated into nothing, as if the humid air that surrounded the city wanted to have a taste of it as well. Her eyes followed up the trail of the smoke which led to the sky lined with dim yellow and orange lights and even though it was one of the hottest summers in years, this was one of the warmest feelings she had felt in a long time. A large clock that hung firmly off of a department store told her it was 8:34 and she figured it would be a good time to go. She dropped her cigarette onto the pavement below her feet and stepped on it with the toe of her heel before picking it up and throwing it in the garbage can next to her. She may have been mad at the world but she wasn't going to stoop to starting fires in garbage cans.

She stood up briskly straightening out her dress to its proper length and running a palm down the back of her hair. It appeared short, even though the 'rage' was to dye it black and cut it she wouldn't ever think of doing something permanent like dying it black. It was another piece of her that wasn't fully there, another piece that even though she was angry at society couldn't ever complete the job she started, another part of her that failed, even in rebellion.

Santana had told her of The Wright, a place where she promised Quinn a good time even though what she considered a good time differed from Quinn's she was more than willing to do anything that brought her away from the pathways of her mother. It was a bar that was supposedly with the most interesting people of the new decade, the people that everyone had to know. Heel-toe steps made small clacks onto the concrete sidewalk to her destination, it left a ringing in her ears and felt like the only sound that filled the atmosphere, the sound of her broken pieces falling and breaking into smaller pieces as she kept going on into the night as if nothing made her care. After a short few blocks she found herself in front of a large brick building that towered over her with some apartments above it. In green paint and thick letters a sign that read The Wright hung loosely over the door. The noise that sounded dull outside the door grew loud with a small push of her palm, it was like any other bar she had been to with dim rooms with faint traces of blue and red lights throughout. Everyone was seated at tables but the amount of noise reminded her of the one baseball game her father had taken her to.

She saw Santana sitting laughing obnoxiously while sitting with her usual crowd of people who were sporting all black, along with odd head pieces and gaudy jewelry. As per usual there was a seat awaiting her to Santana's left with the same drink that Quinn had dubbed as the only suitable alcohol for her to drink. She rubbed her cherry red lips together to make sure that lipstick was evenly dispersed before sitting down with a subtle smile that showed that she was happy to be here but it was never enough to make you believe that Quinn herself was happy.

"It's about time you got here!" Santana said over the noise of others talking around them.

She simply nodded taking a sip of her drink, "Cigarette break."

"Speaking of which…"she said more quietly reaching into her feather clad purse and pulling out two cigarettes for them both, she lit Quinn's before handing it to her. She twirled it around in her hand briefly admiring it almost. Santana was what she considered a Smoker of Fashion. She only did it because that was the current rage, but once someone tells her that it isn't cool she'll dump them out her third story window into the street. Quinn merely did it because society was now telling her it was okay, and she used them as a way to send the messages of what she was feeling.

Conversation was dull as usual, everyone talking about how great their lives are, and all the parties and their livelihoods. Quinn felt more free than she had a year ago, but something was still chaining her to the past. It was the sort of thing that made her feel so deadpan in the presence of people. She felt more free than she had a year ago, but something still held her down the way her mother used to keep her from the world. Quietly she sipped her drink seeing that her conversation wasn't needed but her mere existence in the room was. She frowned down at the empty glass and eyed the bar across the room. She got up tapping Santana in the shoulder with her empty glass "I'm getting another." She said simply and Santana nodded continuing on with conversation while Quinn waltzed away happy to be separate from the table. She flagged down the bartender who gave her a casual once over that wasn't too casual. She shrugged it off seeing as he was that sort of guy and pointed across the way to the drink that kept her alive here with the cigarette still stuck in the other hand's finger tips twirling causing rings of smoke to rise to the ceiling.

While her drink was being prepared the room grew quiet with the dull squeal of cars turning the corner outside and parking right in front of the building and as the perpetrators, a good twenty men or so, entered the bar small laughter with a few dim cheers filled the room. An involuntary expression of confusion became fixed on her face as she watched the men dressed strictly in black suits with fedoras that were no exception to the rest of their attire. 'Oh.' She spoke softly in her mind, it was just another one of those street gangs. The people who lived in her mother's run of the crowd feared these types of people, but to Quinn's they were the people that everyone wanted to be around, and all the men wanted to join in the havoc that they caused in the area of the country.

"Excuse me." A bit of warm breath whispered into her ear from behind causing a shudder of a chill down her spine. She turned around and saw it was another one of them, probably here to get drinks for the rest of the men who sat lazily in the corner of the room talking closely. She licked her lips backing out of his way wondering when on earth her drink was going to be ready already. It never took this long. His eyes took in a long gaze from her eyes to her feet and back up again. He moved painfully slow and it made her shift uncomfortably. "Let me guess…" he said taking in a long stare into her eyes as if trying to read her soul right there. She took in a long drag from her cigarette returning the stare she could play this game too, and even better. She had been playing it ever since her mother had told her that ladies don't get dirty outside when she was 4. "…Gin and dry Vermouth on the rocks." He said smirking down at her.

"On the rocks?" she asked in hopes of avoiding the part where she admits that he had been right, although it seemed he already knew.

"With ice." He said moving closer to her, resting his arm on the edge of the wooden counter.

She took in another breath before blowing out the smoke to the right of his face letting some of it loft over to reach his face. "Let me guess…" she challenged looking up at him with what seemed to be a beaming expression. "…another gang trying for John Dillinger's?"

He laughed a low laugh that sent a pang through her body like she had made a wrong move, he let his eyes float up to the ceiling then moved his face down to her level keeping it a safe inch apart, but it was close enough to make her stomach feel odd. "Try the real thing babe." He whispered sending more hot air towards her.

She composed herself not willing to appear nervous, gathering back that same look in her eyes. "Oh is that so? Then where's the man himself?" she said taking in another breath of her cigarette before the smoky air out in front of her smiling in her head as each bellow hit his face softly like a few dark clouds.

"He's a busy man who doesn't bother going out on Wednesday nights."

"How convenient for you…Mister…" she said casually near almost friendly.

"Mister Puckerman, Mr. Noah Puckerman."

"Well Mr. Puckerman, I'm pleased to have had this conversation, but I fear that your table will want to be receiving some heavy drinks." She said taking the drink that had been silently placed next to her into her palm. "Goodbye." She said coldly before walking back over to her table with a small coy smile planted on her face knowing full well that it was going to be a night filled with glances and small smiles the only problem was that he knew that too she just wasn't going to give in to whatever he may have had in mind.

Two hours later, and 5 drinks down her theory had proved correct. She would glance over to his table with a smile that her mother dubbed as flirtatious and would smack her arm and tell her to stop, and he would glance back with a smirk of acknowledgment. There was no meaning behind either of these small glances just a simple way to remind each other of their presences. It had become long enough of the game, and Quinn had found nothing more to do here and now found herself exiting the bar with a fresh cigarette in hand and walking down the quieted streets that glowed with orange light from scattered street lamps.

She never gave him her name, and he starts to think it was on purpose. He kept his eyes fixed on her and managed to memorize the scene to make a mental picture for later. He doesn't know why but it distracts him from the conversation about some job down in Indiana that he wanted no part of mainly because he knew his dad was there somewhere. She sat up straight as a dark figure in black clothes and a soft blue light cast down on her features causing them to stick out from the rest of her that was covered in darkness. It was then that she turned and caught him looking, so he gave her a smile to tell her that he wanted her to see him, but when she smiles back the light catches her green eyes, and he swears he has a new favorite color. Her lips were red when he first met them with his eyes, but several drinks later they were a dark pink and he decides to add them to the mental picture.

The night progresses and his picture his complete by now with the many glances that they face each other with, and a few hours go by and she gets up for what he thinks is another drink, but he's wrong. This time she's silently heading towards the door for her escape. He wants to follow her, but he isn't that guy. He's never been that guy, the girls always follow him, follow him back to his place. If he follows her he becomes the sheep and he's not the sheep ever, he's the lion that comes and eats the sheep. He's the guy that devours and leaves a carcass or two behind. He's that guy. Why he decides to break this habit and leave his table, and go out the green wooden door to the street he decides is going to be a onetime thing. He walks slowly and with caution, not wanting to be seen by her yet, since he still has no idea what he intends on saying to her. He gazes down the street to see her walking in a sort of way that makes him want to pounce and he feels like the lion again. He walks slowly behind her thankful that his shoes have worn in and make no sound in his steps since the streets are silent.

She turns into an alley and it throws him for a loop he waits a few moments before stepping in front of the wall and peering his head around the corner to see where she intended on going in this new location. She stood reaching behind her head with her back towards him, reaching and pulling out what looks to him like a small pin. She pulls it out slowly to reveal not short hair in which he assumed she had had, but long reaching past her shoulders that had been hidden in a way that almost seemed impossible now. She tousled it softly with her hand as if it had been bugging her all day, and couldn't wait a second. He watches like someone who goes nature watching but he knows this is better, and makes another mental picture and labels it as the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He wonders if she hides it because it's pure gold and maybe that's why she doesn't want to cut it because she wants more money for it, he knows that people don't grow gold because it's impossible but the color of her hair seems near impossible.

She tucks some of it into the top of her dress as a subtle way to hide its length before continuing on her way. He doesn't know why but he assumes it's like a lion stalking its prey. He follows her to wherever her destination is because he promises that he's not through. He follows her silently 30 paces behind her until she enters a small brick building surrounded with a dozen more like it. He figured she'd be fancier than an apartment complex because she seems like that kind of girl but he'd been wrong about a lot of things tonight, so now that he's got his location he knows what he's going to do next.

If you managed to make it through the entire thing….wow! It got longer than I had expected but intros always end up that way. Next chapter is going to be a little more progressive in their relationship and such and I have a wonderful way on how Puck gets the ball rolling. If you have thoughts, suggestions or comments please please please review!

That's all I have to say, I'm in the midst of more stories so, I hope to update quite soon!

R&R.

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