Author's Note: I didn't list this as a crossover because it really isn't, but Doctor Who and Project Runway play a vital role in this wee tale.
Sam took the application forms out of his backpack as he waited for Mercedes' computer to wake up. He was so glad Mercedes-and her parents-had offered him use of her computer to do these essays. Sure, there were computers at school and in the library near the small apartment complex where his family was now living, but he found his head-and his writing-were much clearer when he could work in relative privacy.
He scanned the application to find the essay question he was supposed to answer. He had a few choices, but when Stacy had read them out to him that morning, there was one that had sorta sounded cool. Yeah-that one.
"Write about a fictional character or event that has made an impact on your life."
Sam grinned. This was going to be the coolest application essay in the history of essays, and now that the computer was awake, he could get to work.
Word was already open-Mercedes must have been working on her own essays-so he clicked the icon and was about to open a new file when the words "Martha stepped into the TARDIS" caught his eye. He grinned-he loved that Mercedes had become a Doctor Who fan after he'd introduced her to the show during a rainy Saturday Netflix-a-thon. In return, she'd sorta gotten him hooked on Project Runway, and he'd added a few new impressions to his repertoire. They'd proven handy when Santana insulted him in passing; he'd just put on his best Michael Kors and concoct a killer mashup insult. He had to thank his girl for that. Watching creative people do creative things had taken his craft to a whole new level.
"Hey, I've got the-oh, shit!" Mercedes was standing behind him, a bowl of popcorn in one hand. She felt the heat of her embarrassment in her cheeks. If anyone would understand why she'd felt so moved by a story to actually want to write more of it, Sam would be that person, but she still felt kinda silly and very unlike the diva she tried to be outside of her home. Besides, her older brother Marshall had never had much of anything nice to say about the "squealing fangirls taking over the forums" for his favorite sci fi show, and while she didn't think Sam was that kind of fan, she wasn't exactly sure she was ready for him to see this particular side of her yet. Her stories were a little too close to her dreams.
Sam shook himself out of a run-through of his favorite Kors quotes-he was particularly fond of the one about the Appalachian Barbie-and turned to face his girlfriend. She looked scared. "Mercedes? What's wrong?"
Mercedes looked at the bowl of popcorn as she bit her bottom lip. "I forgot I had that file open," she said shyly before crossing over to the desk. With her free hand she reached for the mouse and started to minimize the file. Sam covered her hand with his. His grin was so wide and infectious that she couldn't help but return it.
"You didn't tell me you wrote fan fiction! What other sexy little fangirl secrets have you been hiding from me?" Sam swiveled the chair around and started looking wildly around the room, scanning the bookshelves and craning his neck to peer at her wardrobe through the half-open closet door. He was wondering if he'd missed any hidden action figures or-heaven help him to control himself if she did have such a thing-a red Star Trek uniform.
Mercedes was laughing now, her embarrassment at being discovered completely overcome by Sam's obvious enthusiasm. "Boy, stop tripping! As much as I know you'd love it, you won't find any short red dresses in my closet. Although," she added, her voice now a bit coy, "I do own a nice pair of black leather boots." She put the bowl of popcorn on the desk, then turned the chair so that he was facing her. She bit slowly at her lower lip, her eyes now shyly looking into his. "You don't think it's stupid?"
Sam smoothed his hands over her hips and pulled her till she was standing between his legs. He smiled at her, that lopsided grin that always made her knees go all wibbly wobbly. "Not stupid at all. But, Mercy," he he looked a bit puzzled now, "why didn't you want me to know?"
He was so sincere and open to her that it didn't really matter now. "I don't know. I was really mad when I wrote the first story, but then, I don't know, I started to just have fun thinking about cool places to visit, and what might happen if they went there." She laughed a bit, and Sam started stroking her side with his thumbs. "All of time and space? Much more interesting than Lima, OH."
"I don't know about that," Sam said as he slowly rose, his hands slipping around her waist to pull him closer. He bent his head so that his lips were a hair's distance from her ear and put on his best British accent. "I think you're brilliant, Miss Jones."
Mercedes felt a bolt shoot down her spine at his words, and she immediately sunk her hands into the thick hair at the nape of his neck. "Doctor, I don't know how much time we've got till my parents get back."
He grinned and flashed his eyes over to her bed. "Time machine, remember?"
Mercedes rolled her eyes but didn't stop him as he kissed her and moved toward the bed. He kept kissing her as he sat on it and pulled her down to meet him. After a few very intense moments, Sam broke the kiss, panting. "Do you have any idea how turned on I am right now?"
The mounting pressure on her thigh gave Mercedes some indication. She laughed. "How could I miss it? Hold on-where's your accent?"
Sam groaned as he lay on his side and pulled her body parallel to his. "Even David Tennant slips into his native Scottish accent from time to time," he whispered as his fingers made long strokes at her back. "And he," Mercedes growled as Sam pressed his body firmly against hers while he spoke, "didn't have a Miss Jones who was as distracting as you. Still," he cleared his throat and put on his wildest facial expression, "allons y!"
As the afternoon wore on, Mercedes discovered there were plenty of adventures worth having in Lima, OH-and some that might make their way into some new stories-and Sam decided he'd have to pick a less personal question from the essay list to answer.