Hi, this is my first time writing for glee. I fell in love with this couple about a year ago and I have decided to try my hand at writing them. I thought that their relationship was very mature and could've stand the test of time. It's a pity that TPTB thought it fit to let things end the way it did. I know that they were end-game, and they cut that from the script, but for persons like me, I actually wanted to see it happen. They were beautiful together and had great chemistry. This story is slightly based on the book The Obsession by Nora Roberts. Some of the dialogue and scenes are taken from the book, but I have put my own spin to it. This is also the first time for me writing a story based/slightly based on another person's work. Here goes...
I do not own glee nor it's characters. I am also not affiliated with Little Good Harbour. I also do not own The Obsession, it's the property of Nora Roberts.
It hadn't been impulse.
Twenty-four year old M.J assured herself of that as she roamed the ramshackle old house on the bluff.
Maybe it was a little rash, or even a gamble, but she had taken many gambles before...so what if she took one more?
As she quietly moved from room to room, it dawned on her that she had bought a house. A very old house, ancient even, on the opposite side of the country away from everyone she knew.
A house that needed work, lots of it...hours upon hours of cleaning, and of course furniture.
"This was an investment," she told herself, as she walked through the less than pleasant kitchen with its cracked linoleum floor.
This will be a huge project, something that will indeed keep her busy and her mind occupied, now that she wasn't working.
As she tried the faucet, it coughed and spewed out fits of water, with that, she decided to make a list of things to be done.
She took out her phone from the back pocket of her tight jeans, and entered Plumber as the first thing on her list.
She added more to the list as she moved from the kitchen to the dining-room, which had a wonderful fireplace carved in dark wood.
In that moment, she realized that she didn't just buy a house, she bought a huge house, with six bedrooms, four-and a half baths, and a total of three fireplaces.
Closing her mind off of that thought, she decided instead to think about how she was going to work on it and get it together.
As she walked the creaky stairs, she tried to shake off the overwhelming feeling that was slowly taking over her mind, she concluded that it definitely wasn't impulse...it was lunacy.
"Why did I move here?
Why did I tie myself to this remote place and why in God's name did I let myself be weighed down by this anchor of a dilapidated house?"
All of these questions floated through her head as she walked pass musty walls and beautifully carved doors, knowing that there were too many rooms for one single woman.
She felt an old familiar pressure in her chest...the onset of an anxiety attack. She began to take slow deliberate breaths as her feet took her to the master bedroom.
It was huge, bright and airy.
Of course it needed work. The floors, the walls...which were awfully faded and the old glass sliding door, that she would definitely get rid of, all desperately needed attention.
She tugged on the slider, which grudgingly opened and stepped out onto a wide opened deck.
"This is why," she whispered, as she took in the view.
It was breathtaking.
There was a small inlet, a deep shining blue, split into knots of green land...indicating that Spring was on its way.
Shorelines ascended, bordered by trees as the water travel out through a narrow channel into deeper blues.
In the distance, mountains rolled up against the sky, as a back-drop for a thick forest of green shadows.
The bluff wasn't that high, but it afforded a pure, unobstructed view of water, sky and land, and for her...an indescribable sense of peace.
"This is my place," she thought as she leaned against the railing and inhaled...deeply.
Whatever needed to be done to make the house habitable, she would see it done.
No one could take this view, this sense of hers away.
She took her phone and captured the beautiful sight before her and sent it to some very important people in her life.
Her 'sister' and self appointed protector Santana Lopez, and her two best friends Kurt Hummel and Tina Cohen-Chang.
God she missed them...so much.
As soon as she whip the house into shape, she will have them come to spend some much needed time together.
If anyone looked into her contacts, they would see these names listed under the caption, "My Family."
Attached to the photo, was a very simple message,
"This is why," it read.
As she put her phone away, she decided to go into town and get some supplies.
The little town was active and anyone could tell, it made its living off the water.
There was a marina, a dive shop, a kayak rental and a fish market.
She spotted the lone hotel called Little Bay Hotel, which faced the marina with its bobbing boats.
She had stayed there for a few nights when she first came to Little Good Harbor to upgrade her music portfolio.
The hotel was a quiet peaceful place and it gave her much inspiration, whilst she basked in solitude.
On her second day there, she had caught sight of the house as she looked out of her hotel window. She was amazed and intrigued by the way it angled away from the town and beckoned towards the water and the woods.
She had asked for directions, just to check it out and before she knew it, she was on her way there with Realtor William Scheuster.
Now it belonged to her.
As she loaded up her food, cleaning supplies and other much needed stuff, she smiled at the good fortune she's had, whilst shopping.
She managed to acquire the name of a contractor and called him right away. He would be at the house in an hour's time to do an assessment.
With no time to dawdle, she headed home and started the task of cleaning the refrigerator.
By the time she had finished and stocked it, a vehicle pulled up outside.
Hearing her name, she went out to greet her visitor.
"MJ?" The man in a ball cap asked, as he walked to her with his hand out-stretched.
"Yes, that's me," she answered.
"Dwight Evans," he said.
She took his hand briefly, taking in his appearance.
He was tall, probably in his late forties, very early fifties, sandy hair peeking out from under his cap, strong jaw and well built.
"Nice to meet you," she said as she lightly squeezed his work-roughened hand.
"Thank you for coming," she followed up. He smiled, a little lopsidedly.
"I heard someone from back east had bought the place. It's something isn't it?" he said. Agreeing with him, she replied,
"It's something alright." He grinned and shifted his weight.
"It's been empty for over ten years...since the owner died. It used to be a B and B, but..."
He was politely cut off by her saying,
"A big place like this, probably needed a lot of maintenance."
He placed his hands in his pockets as his gaze traveled the length and breadth of the house.
"Exactly," he replied.
After their small talk, they took the house room by room and the list grew further.
The contractor had great ideas, some a lot similar to what she had thought up.
She concluded that he knew what he was speaking about...he knew his job like the backs of his hands.
The most important thing was that he knew exactly what she wanted.
He excused himself shortly after their room by room perusal, to go out and get his tape measure.
By the time he had finished his second assessment, she had put away her supplies and poured them both some soda. They drank on the front porch, as they watched the sun burned its way down through the trees.
She turned to him and said,
"So..."
Mr. Evans smiled genuinely, his green eyes twinkling and said,
"I will work out an estimate for you. When I bring it, you might want to be sitting as you read it."
She didn't think anything different.
This was a big job, but she had a strategy. She looked up at him and said,
"When you do, let's talk about priorities...you know, like the stuff that can be done right away, and what can wait a bit."
Mr. Evans looked at M.J with pride.
It was something akin to how he would look at his daughter. He could see she had a good head on her shoulders.
"Good idea. I have the name of a great landscaper you can check out whilst you're reeling from the estimate," he said as he handed her the empty glass.
"Wonderful!" She replied. Placing his hands back into his pockets, he said,
"If you give me the job, I'll do great work for you." Extending her hand to him, she smiled and said,
"I believe you will." Mr. Evans shook her hand once again and said,
"I appreciate the chance to look the place over M.J, I'll be in touch."
She watched him drive off and felt the silence fall just like the sun behind the trees.
Next morning was spent on her old hobby, photography.
This turned out to be the norm as she spent that time taking pictures of beautiful sunrises, the water, birds and trees.
Her afternoons were usually spent perusing second-hand stores and flea markets.
She found many items on these treks and her bounty included, lamps, desks and chairs and rugs.
On evenings she would settle for a sandwich, or something simple like scrambled eggs with wine, and try her hand at a new song.
To keep cash flowing, she would sell her photos on line to an art gallery in New York.
It wasn't her main source of currency, her bread and butter came from selling songs to record companies who were signing new artists and looking for great writers.
She knew she had a voice.
It was one of the many talents the good Lord had blessed her with.
Alas, the spotlight is the last place she wanted to be. All because of 'him'.
A man she thought the world of and who was as perfect as any human could be. This man shattered life as she knew it and almost caused her to lose complete faith in family.
Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she refused to cry. She would never cry because of him again.
She looked around her room, this house was hers, made possible by the trust fund her generous grandparents had set up for her.
She missed them...all of them.
"I need to visit them and sing for them," she said quietly.
Both sets of her grandparents were gone.
She hardly knew her father's parents, they died when she was five and seven respectively.
Her mother's parents were the ones she had a special bond with, they were the only people besides her "family" that she would sing for.
They went when she was thirteen and eighteen respectively, and she always sang to them when she visited their graves.
With a heavy heart, she started her nightly ritual to get ready for bed.
It was nearly a week later when Dwight returned with the estimate.
He arrived with his sixteen year old son Stevie and their dog Seiko.
The boy was a younger and thinner version of him, from the way he smiled to the way he stood, but very shy.
"We were on our way out, so I decided to drop this off. You should probably sit and take a shot of the strongest drink you have before you read it," he said.
Taking the envelope M.J asked, "That bad?"
With a sigh, he said, "Yeah...well...like you said, we can look at our priorities. Take some time to look it over and think about it. Whatever you decide to do, I am with you one hundred percent."
M.J was floored, but also extremely curious.
She gave her thanks and headed inside to study the papers.
The six figures threw her, but she had more or less expected it.
There was so much work to be done, but she also knew that lots of the work could very well be DIY projects for her.
She still had some of her savings. This wasn't impossible, this was doable.
After a while, she took out her phone and called Dwight. On the second ring he jokingly asked,
"Do you need an ambulance?"
She laughed.
She wasn't a person to make friends easily, but he made her laughed.
"I wanted Tequila shots but I toughed it out. When can you start?" Aghast, Dwight sputtered,
"What? Come again." A smiling M.J said,
"I want to go for it. When can you start?"
Dwight was completely taken aback.
"I might need an ambulance myself. Don't you want to think about it some more? Plus, there's another contractor who does great work also.
I know you might be thinking I'm an idiot right about now, but I'm just offering you another choice...it's just the way I am."
Once again M.J was floored by the honesty of Mr. Evans.
Her thoughts started drifting to 'him' but she caught herself.
"I bought this house because it spoke to me...words I needed to hear. You get that Mr. Evans. Many people won't. You know exactly what I need done to this old house, and I have no doubt that you will turn this into a home...my home.
Some of the work I can do to minimize the cost, so...when can you start?"
Dwight felt proud. She trusted him.
In his mind, she was an exceptional young woman who knew exactly what her limitations were.
He cleared his throat audibly and said, "I can begin next week, probably Tuesday. By Monday I'll have a contract drawn and we can go from there."
Excited and smiling, she replied, "Great! Looking forward to Monday then."
Monday rolled around and Dwight returned with the contract, his wife Mary and his very pretty daughter Stacie, also a mini me of him, and Stevie's twin.
After introductions, Mrs. Evans said,
"He's had ideas about what needed to be done to this place for years. He said you think similar to him. Dwight's the best. He's going to make it wonderful for you dear."
Dwight hugged his wife and said,
"She's biased. By the way, work starts in the morning. I have a dumpster coming and the full crew will be here by seven. We're going to be loud, think you can handle it?"
A smiling M.J replied, "Noise is good...sometimes." They all shared a laugh, even Stacie who is just as shy as her twin.
The Evans family said their goodbyes and she watched as they got into their truck and drove off.
It was late evening when she decided to go for a drive and take some pictures along the way.
About two hours and many photos later, she decided to call it a day.
Twilight shimmered in the west as she followed the winding road home.
It happened suddenly, a flash of brown, she made out to be a deer, as it dashed from the trees right across her path.
She turned the wheel to avoid a collision, but the car fishtailed.
She felt the tyre blow, more so than hear it and swore under her breath as she fought for control. She ended up in a ditch on the other side of the road, her heart pounding in her ears.
The deer turned its head as if annoyed by her and ran off into the shadows.
M.J sat and stewed, picturing the many ways in which she wished to hurt that deer.
Less than two minutes later, headlights appeared, coming in her direction.
She made out the shape of a truck as it slowed and came to a stop in front of her. She gripped the can of pepper spray she always kept between the front seats...just in case.
"Car trouble?" The occupant asked as he alighted from the vehicle.
"A flat, but I got it...thanks," she replied.
Nevertheless, he sauntered forward, his silhouette visible with the headlights behind him.
"Got a spare?" A nice voice, tall, long legs and long arms, she noted.
"Yes, I have a spare," she answered grudgingly. Persistent as ever he continued as if they were acquainted.
"Good, I'll change it for you." She moved the can into spraying position.
"Thank you, but I've got it," she ground out.
He bent to take a closer look at the wheel.
She could see him better now.
Blonde hair, strong jaw, light scruff, black leather jacket and big hands on the knees of his long legs.
"I've got emergency lights in the truck, I'll get them and set you on your way," he said.
He looked at her then, his handsome face and full pouty lips on his un-smiling mouth. It dawned on her, that she had seen this resemblance before, but she couldn't quite recall where.
"I've changed a tyre before," she pressed, hoping that he would catch on. Still he persisted.
"Me too. In fact, you can make a living out of it. Sam Evans of Evans' Garage and Body Works. The name is on the side of my truck. I'm a mechanic...rather, I used to be," he said.
Stubborn as ever, M.J replied, voice dripping with sass,
"I didn't call a mechanic." Smiling a familiar lopsided smile, he asked,
"Aren't you glad one came along? I'd also appreciate it if you don't spray me with that can of Mace."
With that, he went to his truck and got the emergency lights.
"You're going to need a new tyre. This one is done. How'd you managed that?" he asked. Hesitating momentarily, she replied,
"It was a deer. Came from nowhere...well from the trees, and jumped right out in front of me. I overcompensated..."
He knew exactly what she meant. He has seen many busted tyres and windshields in his time as a mechanic. These days not so much. He is now into managing the business side of his shop.
"I get the picture. Are you making your way home?" he asked. When she remained silent, he continued,
"You're coming from town...or at least in that direction and I have never seen you before. Beautiful woman like you, I would remember if I had."
If she was lighter in complexion, he would have seen the blush on her pretty face. She chose her words carefully.
"Uh yeah, I was heading home...then this happened." He hummed in a noncommittal way and stumped her with his next question.
"Are you M.J? The new owner of that old house on the bluff?"
Feeling apprehensive, she stepped back and took up a defensive position.
Seeing this, Sam chuckled to himself. He looked at the beauty in front of him, curvy, soft looking milk chocolate skin, plump kissable lips and short...very short.
"Relax, I'm not trying to pry, neither am I a creeper," he calmly said. He continued as he saw her posture softened.
"My dad, Dwight Evans is supposed to be fixing up that house for a lovely lady by the name of M.J...I must say, his description doesn't do you justice."
She felt her face heat up at his words.
Quietly, she said, "Thank you. I thought there was something familiar about you. Dwight's great, so is your mum, and the twins...they are the cutest teens I've ever met."
This brought an un-knowing smile to Sam's lips. He loved his family dearly. They were very close.
"Thank you, they are everything you said and more.
By the way, you can put that spray away, unless you plan to Mace me to death. Besides my obvious resemblance to my dad, you're welcomed to call him and check out anything I've said."
M.J threw the can on her front passenger seat and said,
"He didn't mention he had another son...or child, so I assumed it was just the twins."
He finished tightening the lug nuts on the spare and gave it a spin.
"Well, I won't hold that against you. I live on my own and I'm rarely seen traveling with my dad...I drive, I'm old enough to...so there," he playfully said.
Rolling her eyes, M.J laughed sarcastically. "Ha ha."
This caused him to stand to his full height and step closer to her, towering over her. With a mischievous smirk, he asked,
"How tall are you?"
M.J wanted to smack the smirk off his handsome face. She looked up directly into his gorgeous green eyes and said,
"Tall enough. Are you done?"
Playfully, Sam lifted a strand of her long curly hair, and said, just as she smacked his hand away,
"All done ma'am. Would you like me to take that busted tyre and order you a new one?"
Seeing the sincere look on his face, she replied, "Yes thank you."
She begun to rummage through her pockets and he stopped her by asking,
"You want to pay me?" Shaking her head yes, she responded by saying,
"Of course. I don't expect you to do what you just did for free." This emitted a chuckle from him.
"That's not necessary M.J. I don't want your money...however, maybe a drink together...sometime, that would be payment enough."
M.J stared incredulously at him. Her body felt heated all of a sudden, just by the way his voice dropped and sounded so southern. This man was sexy personified and he wasn't even trying to be.
She schooled her features and asked,
"That's it? A drink? You don't want anything else?" His playful mood showing again, Sam said,
"Careful, that's a loaded question, but yeah, a drink...and don't forget about the 'together' part. I don't think that's too much to ask, seeing as I risked being Maced to death, just to change your tyre."
A huge smile lit up her pretty face.
"Thanks for your help Sam. I will see about that drink...sometime."
Sam smiled at her words. He watched her walked off, his green eyes glued to her more than ample backside, as she got into her car and buckled up.
He in turn got into his truck and gave his horn a friendly honk as she drove away. Quietly he said to himself,
"There's something about her. I think she will be the death of me...what a sweet death that would be..."
Yay or nay? Looking forward to hearing something. Also there's a reason Mercedes is going by the name M.J. It will all be revealed gradually.