A/N: Whoo, one tenth done! Ha, such an accomplishment...or, you know, not. Anyways, I thought I was going to hate this, but I actually like it a lot. It's kind of cutesy and fluffy, but I love the beginning because it's something I feel could (and will) happen to me. Review and I'll…well I'll be happy, and that's always a good thing.

Title: Fleeting Moments
Author: sparklinglemonade
Rating: M
Summary: Noah Puckerman isn't a good person – he's an ass, a studly sex-shark – but when it comes to Quinn Fabray he tends to have his moments
Genre: Angst/Drama
Chapter: Ten

Cough

Sometime during the early winter, right after Sectionals, she gets a cough from his little sister. He's never been more worried (or caring, or – apparently – annoying) in his life.

"Stop taking care of me," she says into her pillow on Tuesday, the third day of her cough and fifth of winter break, "I'm better, see?" She lifts her head and coughs into his face.

"I don't get it," he says, throwing a tissue at her, "if I was ignoring you, you'd say," he puts on an overly girlish falsetto, "'Oh, Noah, you're such an ass. You don't care about me or this baby at all!' But now here I am, devoting my life to your well-being, an-,"

"You're smothering me!" she whines at him, and he rolls his eyes.

"I was raised by a crazy single Jewish woman – you either get all or nothing here," he throws his arms up, and then takes two bottles of vitamins out of his pockets, "do you want them or not?" he asks and he snatches them out of his hands. "See? Papa Puck knows what Mama Q needs," he smiles smugly, knowing that it pisses her off supremely when his mother calls her "Mama Q".

"Good job," she deadpans, "I'm so disgusted that the baby just hurled." He laughs and points to a glass of water.

"Drink that. Rest. I'll be up later," he says, and leaves the room as she groans.

The next time he enters, he's holding a tray with a huge bowl of chicken soup and a glass of ginger ale. She groans (again).

"I cannot eat anymore soup," she says, and he puts the tray down on her nightstand, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Is it bad?" he asks, and she shakes her head.

"Of course not," she says, "but haven't you ever heard of starving a cold?"

"…No," he says, and shoves a spoon at her. "Besides," he counters, "you're not allowed to take all that gross cold medicine because of the kid, and my Mom says chicken soup is nature's penicillin, so…" he smiles, smugly and gestures to the soup.

"Penicillin is mold, Puck!" She throws the spoon back at him, "It's already natural."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asks.

"Ohmygosh, yes," she laughs.

He thrusts the spoon into her hand and grins, throwing an "enjoy your soup," over his shoulder.

That night, he watches as she loafs down to dinner, attempting to show him
(and his mother) that she feels better. He watches her face distort in disgust as his mother places a serving – sized bowl of chicken soup in front of her and laughs at her scowl. He pokes at the unappetizing looking slab of fish on his plate while Quinn sighs forlornly, "Mrs. Puckerman, do you mind if I skip dinner? I'm not that hungry."

"You have to eat," Mrs. Puckerman gasps, "It'll make you feel better."

"I just can't ea-," she begins, but Puck softly steps on her foot across the table.

"Ma, haven't you ever heard of starving a cold? Just let her sleep, I'll eat the soup." He interjects, and snatches the soup from her. She smiles at him and thanks his mother.

He smiles back and figures it was about time he got on her side about something.