A/N: & the glimmer continues? What is this you speak of? Crazy…review? PS, I must confess, that my lonliness is killing me noooooow, don't you know I still believe?

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: Twenty Six

Suspicion

The morning after, he's suspicious of her strange calmness. She's not yelling at him, or crying (even after their little conversation and her little promise, he was sure she'd crack come sunrise) – she's making eggs and pancakes in his kitchen while chatting amicably with his Mother.

He stares at her in confusion as she laughs, then approaches her from behind, "what are you doing?"

"…cooking?" she states, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"No," he shakes his head, "what are you doing here?"

"…I slept here," she says, and laughs at him, "Why are you acting so weird?"

"Noah, be polite," his mother scolds, pointing a finger at him, but he ignores it.

"I'm not the one acting weird right now, Quinn," he says, but she ignores him and continues to flip pancakes.

They eat breakfast in silence (well he and Quinn are silent, while his mother describes how awful his Grandmother's hospitality was,) – him staring at her in confusion as she simultaneously politely listens, hums in sympathy, and shoots daggers at him from across the table with her emerald eyes.

"Noah," his mother says loudly, shaking him from his confusion, "you're not eating – what's wrong?"

He knows better than to shrug her off, so he picks up his fork and eats some eggs, smiling at her, "I'm fine, Ma."

"Good," she smiles, and then turns back to Quinn. After breakfast, he drags Quinn upstairs to his room by her wrist, "What do you think you're doing?"

"…I was watching TV with your sister? You were there, too?" she asks confusedly, shaking him off of her.

"You expect me to believe you're just…normal now? I don't buy that for a second, Quinn." She rolls her eyes.

"That's what this is about?" she sits on the bed and pats the spot next to her. He complies, just because he wants an explanation, though – not because she's creepily alluring right now, "Listen, I know I've been weird lately, but…last night was just something I needed. When I got your letter I flipped out, and when you actually kept your word about it, I got angry. I knew you were right, but…well I didn't know how to say it. So I yelled at you, and then we had sex, and now I think I'm okay today. Tomorrow? I don't know, but for this moment, I'm okay, and that's way better than I've been in a long time."

He still doesn't buy it – one time with him doesn't change the fact that she's been three-quarters of the way to dead for the past six months – but he lets her think he does.

She'll crack – he knows she will. And as they head back downstairs, he knows all he can do is get himself ready for it.