In all honesty I wrote this while watching Shrek, because why not.

Disclaimer: I don't own glee, if I did I wouldn't have squandered perfectly good character development.

MERCEDES

"Ok, all comms are secure, over." Becky's voice chimed over the miniature microphone in Mercedes' ear. One by one, Quinn, Santana, Kurt and Mercedes tested their units with a quick mention of their respective codenames.

"Queenie, this is Q, testing comms."

"This is Snixx incoming."

"Porcelain is present."

"Wheezy has landed, Queenie, and the ground team is entering the party, out."

Mercedes adjusted the skirt of her gown and scanned the area slowly, taking note of all exits and potential rendezvous points. She locked eyes with Quinn, who nodded her assent.

"All right team," the blonde squad leader spoke lowly, "Let's go, Snixx and Porcelain, you'll monitor the east side of the ballroom, Wheezy and I will cover the west. If the Zarina diamonds are going to be stolen, it's not happening tonight. Mingle but stay uninvolved, are we clear on our covers?" The spies gave the affirmative and split up.

"Quinn, I forget, what's this gala for anyway?" Mercedes asked while snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter's tray.

"No real names in the field, Amber!" Mercedes rolled her eyes at the chastising and took a sip from her champagne flute, locating the Zarina around the neck of Princess Agatha. "Anyway, it's for Alzheimer's, so try not to…" She trailed off at the look on Mercedes' smug face.

"Forget? I wouldn't dream of it, Diana." Mercedes giggled.

"Just awful. Literally the worst joke I have ever heard." Quinn snorted and took a deep gulp of her drink.

"What's the worst joke you've ever heard?" A deep voice asked. Mercedes bristled and felt Quinn tense near her, whoever this person was, treaded extremely lightly, light enough to sneak up on both Quinn and Mercedes, which was quite a feat if they were being honest. Quinn, who lived and breathed espionage was the first to recover.

"Trust me, it isn't that funny. A little…inappropriate to be completely honest with you, Mr.?"

The stranger – handsome and tall – now that Mercedes was paying attention, stuck his hand out immediately, green eyes full of humor. "Samuel, Samuel Evans. Purveyor of terrible comedy, so it's literally my livelihood to hear aforementioned joke." Quinn gave a breezy fake laugh and shook his hand. Mercedes stayed silent and took in their conversation partner, for a possible threat of course, she told herself and if her gaze happened to linger on his abnormally large lips, well, whose business would that be? She tuned out Quinn's small talk and skimmed through the gala crowd, taking note of the attendees, mentally listing each celebrity's and socialite's laundry list of misgivings; money laundering, affair, affair, extortion, mob ties, affair. Briefly she met eyes with Santana who seemed to be doing her level best to convince the French ambassador's daughter to disappear upstairs with her. Kurt was nowhere to be seen, which was probably a good thing; at least one of the team's members was laying low.

"…Amber?" Mercedes turned to see Samuel and Quinn staring at her questioningly. Quinn gave her partner a miniscule nod and in reply Mercedes gave her biggest socialite smile, "Of course!" she laughed. Samuel offered his bent arm to her with a smile of his own, "Shall we?".

Of course. OF FUCKING COURSE? What the hell Quinn, what happened to staying uninvolved? Dancing isn't uninvolved, Q! Quinn grabbed Mercedes' dangling champagne glass out of her hand and excused herself, dropping a flimsy excuse of needing to greet an acquaintance across the ballroom. "It was nice meeting you Diana." Sam said. Quinn parted with a wholly unnecessary "take care of Amber please!" before slipping into the crowd. 'Oh now you wanna be a spy? Fine, disappear then. I'll get rid of Evans myself.' Mercedes thought to herself as she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.

"So how good of a dancer are you Samuel? Because I have no intention of getting my feet stepped on in these shoes."

"Sam, please. I'm more than adequate but I must say, I'm surprised you agreed despite the fact that you had no idea what Diana and I were talking about." Sam laughed at the look she gave him, "Yeah, I noticed. You two are good, but I like to think I'm great at picking up queues."

Observant and light-footed? This man might be trouble, best give him his dance and get the hell out of dodge.

"Well, we've worked out quite the system. Diana and I are best friends." Not a lie but not the whole truth. In reality Quinn and Mercedes were practically sisters, orphaned at a young age and taken into C.H.E.E.R.I.O.S at the tender age of 14. The Covert Highly Effective Espionage Reconnaissance Intelligence Operations Service had been good to them, well as good as an international spy agency run by Sue Sylvester could be to a couple of teenagers with nothing.

Together Sam and Mercedes made their way onto the dance floor. He held her close and they slipped into an easy rhythm. "So how do you two know each other?" Mercedes swayed to the violins swelling from the band on stage and kept her eyes trained just over Sam's shoulder, feigning interest in the woman singing lowly on stage. "Why? If you wanted to get to know Diana better, you should've asked her to dance." She met his eyes and was shocked at the sharpness of his gaze, he looked at her like he was trying to memorize every detail of her face.

SAM

Sam was trying to memorize every detail of this woman's face. He didn't know her, that was for sure, her name was on the guest-list, it had to be, but he's never seen her in the papers, or at any other gala his family had hosted and he'd certainly never seen her in the Hamptons during the summer. If he had, he would've introduced himself a hell of a lot sooner. Well, whoever Amber Riley was, she was wearing the hell out of her dress.

"Maybe I want to get to know you better. So? You and Diana?" She met his eyes, smiling absently, white teeth framed by soft looking lips. "Diana and I attended boarding school together. Saint Joseph's Catholic School for Girls. We've been close ever since." Sam wasn't familiar with the school but it didn't matter, as soon as the words left her lips, Sam's traitorous mind conjured the image of Amber in a sinfully short plaid skirt and a nearly see through white blouse. 'I am a terrible person' He'd thought to himself trying to will away the flush rising to his cheeks. Luckily, Amber's eyes were elsewhere, scanning the ballroom. "Are you looking for someone?" He called her attention and pulled her closer, securing her to the line of his chest. Amber laughed and shook her head. "Of course not, you have my full attention Sam." Despite the feeling that she was placating him, his chest swelled with pride, he had her attention, if only for a little while.

"Good, because I am thoroughly enjoying dancing with you." He spinned her with flourish and when he brought her back into their original position she smiled again. 'Good. Keep her smiling Sam.'

"So I haven't seen you around, are you new to New York?"

"NYC is a big place, maybe we just don't run in the same circles."

"It's big, but it ain't that big darlin', I would've remembered you." Amber raises an eyebrow at the pet name but let it slide.

"I suppose. I'm from L.A., Diana and I just moved into Bridgehampton for the summer. We're not sure how long we'll stay." Sam's face lit up at that.

"Well you'll have to let me show you around. California's got nothing on the West Coast."

"Now, hold on a minute! I'll have you know, L.A. is pretty damn nice, besides from what I've seen, you New Yorkers are pretty stuck up." Amber sniped, eyes narrowed and critical.

"I don't know what you've seen but I can show you myself just how lax New Yorkers can be." Feeling bold, Sam slipped his hands a little lower on Amber's waist.

MERCEDES

Mercedes was taken aback, this man knew what he was doing and he wasn't afraid to do it.

"Oh? What'd you have in mind?" So maybe this wasn't exactly apart of the mission, but Sam Evans was the heir to the Evans Conglomerate Empire, he could very well be in danger. And sure, Sue had said they were there to protect the Princess and her half billion-dollar necklace but it would be just plain irresponsible to not be sure Sam – Mr. Evans – was safe.

"Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private, Ms. Riley?" Mercedes nearly asked who the hell Ms. Riley was before remembering that it was in fact her cover identity's last name.

"Somewhere more private? No one's looking now…" Mercedes was playing with fire now, knowing damn well at least one of her team members had eyes on her. 'Who the hell cares, the last time I had fun like this was three years ago in Ibiza, Sue owes me.' Besides Santana was God knows where, doing God knows what and there was no doubt Quinn and Kurt were on top of things.

Sam's eyes flickered down to her lips for a moment, just long enough for Mercedes to guess what he'd do next. He lowered his head and met her lips in one fluid movement. His hands left her hips to cup her face and deepen the kiss. Mercedes gave as good as she got and took control of the kiss, sliding her tongue along the seam of Sam's lips, asking for permission to enter.

"The Zarina's been taken, I repeat, the Zarina is missing." Kurt's voice blasted clear through Mercedes' haze. She snapped back and withdrew from Sam, covering her mouth.

"Goddamn it Porcelain, what happened?" Quinn's irritated voice came next.

"Shit." Mercedes muttered under her breath.

"What is it?" Sam's face was contorted in confusion, hands out where Mercedes' face had been.

"I-I need to go."

"You're really gonna Cinderella me right now?"

"I'm so sorry Sam. But I'll see you later okay?" She lied smoothly, turning and speaking lowly into her comms, "Porcelain, where are you?" Kurt answered rapid-fire, "Securing Princess Agatha, Snixx is in pursuit of the thief, she ducked through the kitchen. Q, Wheezy, take the service exit and corner them outside." Mercedes fled the ballroom, ignoring Sam's calls. She ran through the crowds of gala attendees and slipped around the waiters milling about the service exit before being enveloped in the warm summer night in the alley behind the event hall.

"Wheezy, over there!" Quinn yelled to her over the squealing of tires. Santana grabbed the gun from her thigh holster and shot multiple times at the back doors and tires of the black van peeling away, but to no avail.

"Fuck!" Santana yelled watching the car speed away, Quinn covered her eyes with both hands and walked briskly back and forth before speaking into the comms with gritted teeth. "Queenie this is Q, we lost the Zarina, We'll be ready for pickup in ten."

"Nice going losers!" Becky shouted into the comms, prompting Santana to rip it out, while cursing in quick Spanish. Kurt bound out of the service exit, face flushed and disappointed.

"Sue's going to kill us."

Mercedes hung her head. So much for being on top of things.

o-o-o

"So let me get this straight? Somehow the four of you were all busy doing something other than the job I specifically put you there to do?!" Sue slammed her hands on her desk.

"Sue, I take full responsibility for this. My squad did their best, and while we did fail our original mission, the Zarina will be recovered." Quinn replied, face blank and back ramrod straight.

"Really Q? Is that before or after it's sold on the black market to what I can only assume will be the world most dangerous drag queen?" Quinn opened her mouth but Sue cut her off. "Don't answer that. You are all just lucky Sandbags here could identify the criminal, now we've got him and his little gang's info. Becky!" Behind Sue, pictures of three men came up on the screen. Santana explained, "The one with the Mohawk was the getaway driver, the Asian stole the necklace right off the girl's neck and the blond, provided the opportunity." Mercedes took slow inventory of each picture and cursed out loud. She'd been played. Sam Evans was part of the heist. He couldn't have known Quinn and her were there for the Zarina, but she'd be damned if she'd let him best her and her team, whether he knew it or not.

Besides, he owed her a real NYC tour.

I will literally write a one shot for the first person to mention the Archer reference in this story. I love that show so much ugh! I love to make Mercedes swear tbh. Anyhoo, Mercedes' dress is the one Amber Riley wore to the 2016 NAACP Image awards, Santana's is Naya Rivera's dress from the 2012 SAG awards and Quinn's is Diana Argon's 2011 Golden Globes Dress. Why is that important? It's not, I just love evening gowns. I might write more of this, I might not, depends on whether the mood strikes. Reviews are love!