Whatever Will Be, Will Be
Chapter 4

The Montage Hotel
Tuesday, February 11
th, 2020
Beverly Hills, CA

Sam Evans was pacing. He'd gotten the tickets. He had made reservations at Spago for after the play. He'd ordered flowers, gardenias, to pick up on his way out. The rental car company he used whenever he was in LA had delivered the car he'd requested, a nice, normal Cadillac XTS. Sam fully admitted that yes, he had a thing about American cars. He had everything handled. But there was something niggling at the back of his mind…Something that he had forgotten to do or order or prepare. He had a couple of hours before he needed to leave to make his way to Mercedes home in La Habra Heights and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

Puck came into the room to ask Sam if he wanted to go work out before he had to get dressed. The former New Direction watched for a minute with a smile on his face. "Man, calm your tits. Cedes is good people. You've got nothing to worry about."

Throwing himself onto the couch, Sam groaned. "I know that. I mean, I'm not worried about her, I'm worried about me. I thought I had everything planned. I mean I made reservations at Spago for the dinner. I went online and scoped out a cute little place to grab a bite before the play on the way back from her place. I have the tickets; they were delivered this morning so we don't have to do the whole 'Will Call' song and dance. But I keep feeling like I'm forgetting something major."

Nodding his head, Puck went through his own, 'actual date' mental list. Since it had been pretty much drilled into his head by Mercedes when they had dated in high school, he was fairly confident that he'd be able to figure out what Sam was missing. "What about a token…candy, flowers, something she can look at and think about you for a few days?"

"Gardenias from the florist downstairs. Gonna pick 'em up on my way to the car." Sam told him. "Her voice is perfection, so I went for the Billie Holiday flower of choice."

"Oooh, good one…figure out how to slip that into the conversation. You got gum or mints for after your snack and after dinner right? Cash for the valet and theatre attendants?" Puck laughed. "You've still got time before you need to shower and get dressed. What are you gonna wear?"

Sam's eyed widened as he made a horrific realization. "I don't know. I didn't bring anything date able with me unless you count my tux, which I totally don't."

"Shit." Puck scrambled up from the arm chair he'd slung himself across to watch Sam's frantic pacing. "Crap. Cedes is big on fashion. She's gonn be checkin' you for your swagger. She isn't gonna go out with you again if she thinks you're some busta who can't dress himself."

"I can't dress myself," Sam damn near squeaked, a sinking feeling in his gut. "Did you forget that small fact? My Mom, Stacey and my stylist, Pamela, dress me." Sam groaned. "My idea of high fashion is a graphic tee calling for a national weed holiday on April twentieth."

Puck started to pace. "Shit…if it were me I'd call Kurt, since we're in the same city and all. But he's gonna be busy with Cedes by this point." Biting his lip, the man thought hard, his face brightening when inspiration struck. "Wait…Slick. He's all gay and shit maybe he can help."

"Yeah, but I gave y'all the day off remember." Sam bemoaned. He'd told them to chill out, see the sights, and they would meet up before they needed to head to the airport.

"He went somewhere this morning, but now he's just in his room texting back and forth with Hummel. He'll come through for you man." Puck dipped and came back as promised with Sam's other body guard, and the last member of their party as well.

Slick entered the room talking on his cell phone. "Look, I know your appointments are booked months in advance, but remember when I caught you sucking dicks in that park in Irvine? Remember how I didn't bust your ass? You owe me." he nodded. "Alright see you then. We've got twenty minutes to get to get to Dior Homme. One of my contacts is gonna hook us up with an appointment."

Sam was so happy and excited; they managed to make it across Beverly Hills in fifteen. Slick introduced them to his friend Jean Paul, a small really pretty looking man. An hour later, Sam was tricked out for his date. They rushed back to the hotel, where Sam showered, shaved and spritzed himself in a small amount of his favorite cologne, Tom Ford's Oud Wood. He pulled on a pair of navy blue boxer briefs, matching socks and a glaring white wife beater, then shrugged on the whiter than white dress shirt and stepped into the pants. The Dior Homme trousers were double pocket cotton slacks with knife edge creases. The marine blue skimmed the line between teal and blue and made Sam's eyes even greener. He slipped his wallet, two simple white handkerchiefs and a pack of 5 RPM gum into his pockets. He moved from the bedroom of the suite into the living room and Slick tucked a blue, green and white handkerchief into the pocket of his dress shirt. He slid his feet into the same black shoes he'd worn to the Grammys. The black, tie up dress shoes that Sam had broken in and he knew he'd be comfortable in for the entire evening were still shined from the night before.

Since the needed suit detour had taken some of the time Sam had for picking up the flowers and such, Trigger had run those errands for him and Slick had gone to grab Sam some cash just for incidentals. Working together they had Sam on the road only ten minutes behind his ideal intended departure time. The traffic gods were on his side, though, the trip took only an hour rather than the hour and a half it would usually take that time of day. Sam pulled into the driveway of the complex and typed in the number Mercedes had texted him that would get him past the gate. He made his way through the sprawling rows of townhouses until he found the right street and house number and pulled in to the drive in front of the appropriate garage. Sam quickly stood and donned the suit coat that matched the pants exactly before reaching back into the car to grab the bouquet of gardenias. Sam checked himself over and made his way to Mercedes' front door. He waited patiently the five to twenty eternities between when he rang the doorbell and when the door opened. As soon as the door opened to reveal Mercedes to his hungry gaze, Sam's jaw hit the welcome mat and he knew that he should probably check his chin for drool.

Mercedes Jones Residence
Tuesday, February 11
th, 2020
La Habra Heights, CA

A thrill of feminine pride shot through Mercedes as she saw Sam's reaction to her appearance. However it was quickly displaced by her own look of shock and awe as she took in his. His marine blue suit made his eyes pop and his sandy brown hair look both brighter and richer somehow. The bright white of his dress shirt made his skin glow as if it were golden velvet rather than just plain skin. Still despite the gorgeous sight before her; she could still feel his eyes, almost tangibly, as they followed every curve and dip of the satin covering her body. Under the weight of his gaze, she felt beautiful. She felt sexy. She felt a surge of the same satisfaction that overcame her whenever she performed, only the feeling was far more visceral. "God, you look amazing." Sam's voice broke through the haze of their mutual admiration society.

"Thank you…you're looking really, really good yourself." She grinned.

"I…I got you these." Sam passed her the gardenias and followed her into the townhouse while she found a gorgeous, vintage Mikasa crystal vase in which to put them.

"They are lovely." She smiled. "I love gardenias. They always make me think of Billie Holiday."

Sam blushed. "Me too, and since your voice is just as amazing as hers was…"

Mercedes laughter was a little loud but filled with joy. "Boy stop…Lady Day was a class all her own."

But despite her humble words, Sam could tell that she really enjoyed the compliment. He let the self-deprecation go and instead gave her a small, encouraging smile. "So, are you ready to go? I made reservations for us at Hikari. I hope that you like sushi."

"I love it." She bit down on the giggle trying to escape her. "Have you ever been to Hikari? I love that place. The 911 roll is pretty much to die for."

"I hope not to die for…I have plans for you." Sam smirked, his eyes following her every move as Mercedes walked back through her well-appointed living room to the hall closet.

"Let me get my jacket and we can go." She looked back over her shoulder to see that Sam hadn't moved. His eyes were fastened on her ass. "Hey, Sam…reservations…plans…any of that sounding familiar?" She teased.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, but it is so not my fault that I cannot even move right this moment. You in that dress and those heels…" he murmured before his mind caught up with his mouth. "Umm…sorry. I know I shouldn't be all…" he waved his hands in the air in a roughly perfect pantomime of her impressive curves. "Okay…I'm lyin'. I know I'm supposed to be all enlightened and a gentleman, but Darlin' you look so good I want to forget sushi, forget the theatre, forget Spago. I wanna just stay here eat you, watch you do your thing, and then eat you again." He said honestly.

Mercedes shivered as the flame in his eyes burned across every nerve in her body. She sighed. "Sam, maybe we should talk about that."

"Ummm yeah, talking is good." He whispered as he finally forced his feet to work.

Mercedes returned the jacket to the closet. Probably after what she had to tell him, she wouldn't need it. She led him to the wheat colored suede sofa that sat perfectly placed under the room's bay window. As they settled among the plethora of accent pillows in a myriad of shades of green and purple, Sam wondered for a second if he'd finally gone too far with the honesty. Internally, Mercedes girded her loins and forced the words past the ball of fear in her throat. She was used to encountering two reactions to her disclosure…challenge and disdain. "I'm not…Sam…I'm still a virgin." She took a deep breath and let out the rest. "And I fully intend to stay that way until I'm married."

Sam gulped down in surprise. "My mother is going to love you." He breathed. He'd been trying to say something calm, cool and collected instead of saying something stupid like 'whoa' or 'wow'. That hasn't been what he had meant to say but it slipped out. Mercedes was looking at him like he'd grown a second head, but Sam was too deep in his not quite inner monologue to notice. "I mean, like I'm already half way in love with you myself…but waiting for marriage. I didn't believe that women like you still existed. I mean…that is so cool. Like…is it a deal breaker that I'm not though?"

She shook her head. "It will be a deal breaker if you try to find nookie elsewhere while we're dating. It will be a deal breaker if you try to force me to give you my cookie before I'm ready…"

"I totally get that. Ummm…is there anything we can do? You're okay with like kissing and stuff?" he asked worried that he'd already blown everything.

Mercedes nodded. "Kissing and making out is fine. I've never really progressed beyond like second base; or whatever you'd call some mild over the clothes groping. Usually the guys I've dated hear what I just said to you and head for the hills."

Sam looked confused for a long moment. "Are the guys you dated all secretly gay and trying to hide it by boning as many women as humanly possible? Or just monumentally stupid or something." His eyes looked her over again. "You're beautiful, talented, funny and cool…that is totally worth waiting for." At the look of pure disbelieving relief on her face Sam smiled. "Hey. I'm serious. I really, really like you. I don't know if it is because I was raised catholic or what but I cherish the fact that if you eventually pick me to be the man you marry, I will have the blessing and honor of having a part of you that you can give only once. And let me tell you, just know that already makes me want to become worthy and always be worthy of such a gift."

The chocolate diva sat still for a minute. Of everything she was expecting, she hadn't even though that Sam's reaction was a possibility. "Okay. Thanks. I mean, Yeah…we should…we should get going so that we have time to hit Hikari." She babbled happily.

As she stood to go grab her jacket, Sam reached out and took her hand. "Hey, I don't know what kind of jackasses you've been dealin' with Darlin'…but I'm not them. If I move too fast or look like I'm goin' too far, you pull me up and I'll put the brakes on…Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks Sam…now really we should head out if we're going to stop."

Sam nodded. "You're right…but you have to order for me when we get there. I'm a country boy. I've only had sushi a hand full of times." He helped her into her jacket, a skirted, light, lavender, lambs' wool trench that stopped half way down her thighs and led her to his car, taking a minute to make sure her door was locked. "Have I said how lovely you look tonight?"

Mercedes nodded as he opened her door for her. They made small talk as he followed the GPS directions to the restaurant. Sam made sure that he opened all the doors and treated her like a lady. They were seated quickly, the hostess acted a little star struck until Mercedes remembered her by name from her many previous visits. "So Mr. Evans…tell me something humiliating about you. I overshared…now it's your turn." Mercedes prodded as soon as their waiter left with their orders.

"I'll tell you something humiliating about me…but you didn't share anything humiliating. You just told me something about yourself that gave me some deep insight into who you are as a person." Sam said earnestly. "So if I tell you something humiliating, you have to do the same thing."

Mercedes nodded, gesturing for him to continue. "If it's really, really good…then I guess I can come up with something."

Sam smiled. "Oh its good…horribly embarrassing, but hilarious." he told her. "Well it is now. It so wasn't even close to being funny when it happened. When things were at their worst in high school…neither Mom nor Dad were working, almost their entire unemployment checks went just o keeping us in that crappy hotel room, and we were hiding how bad thing were from everyone we knew…or trying to at least…I used a fake ID and got a job at that place Stallionz on Route 65. The money was good…I mean it was really good money. The ladies weren't too sketchy, and there were lots of rules that kept them from touching us. Plus since I was under twenty five, I didn't have to work the men's nights. Not that there is anything wrong with being gay…that doesn't bother me…but supposedly the guys who hit Stallionz on men's night were crazy. Anyway…one night, I'm working the stage and when I get down; they send me in to do a private party. We got those all the time, bachelorette parties, even a couple of baby showers. So I change into my 'Rocky' costume…Rocky Horror seems to be a big draw for the bridal groups…and head in to do my thing. I got down to the damn gold g-string that barely contained my junk…not that I was in much to start with… when I realized it was a bachelorette party for my little sister, Stacey's, teacher. I walked Stacey to her classroom like every other day…she recognized me immediately. She didn't say anything, but she caught up with me after…when I was in regular clothes and dragged the whole thing from me. She is the one who went to the principals, both at the elementary and high schools and got my mom and dad into substitute teaching…which is what got us out of the motel and into an actual apartment. Please don't think I lied to you last night…well I mean I did, but I can't tell everyone the real way we got outted as being poorer than church mice. It is just too humiliating, and really kind of illegal. But anyway, thankfully I still was working at Falcones, so I quit Stallionz and just worked at the pizza joint."

"Wow," Mercedes breathed. "I totally understand why you created the other story. Thank you for telling me the truth. But I have to say you shouldn't be ashamed. That is the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Don't get me wrong…I can imagine how mortifying it must have been to see anyone you knew there like that…but your little sister's teacher…that oh boy…the look that was probably on your face." She started laughing.

Sam chuckled too. "I don't know who was more mortified when we recognized each other…me or her. She and her friends were damn good tippers though. So one good humiliation deserves another…what was your horribly embarrassing moment?"

Mercedes took a sip of the wonderful dry rosé she'd ordered to go with her salmon roll. It tasted of watermelon, cherry, and raspberry, rounded with roses and spiked with lime. It was one of her favorite pairings for sushi. "I guess…I've not got any as embarrassing as that. I mean, the closest I can come to that level of horrifying public embarrassment was way back in the day when I was dating Puck for that hot second our sophomore year of high school. I was on the Cheerios…our school's cheerleading squad. The coach had put Kurt and me on to lend our vocals to her already stellar gymnastics and dance routines. Of course…she wanted me to lose weight. Now don't get me wrong…I was pretty much mainlining tater tots by that point in high school, so yeah I could have stood to drop a few pounds, but the things she had me doing were in no way, shape, form or fashion healthy. So over the course of the week she was making me drink her Sue shit…not what she called it….but basically it was a horrible amalgamation of different energy and protein shakes combines with some kale juice and some other not at all good tasting vegetable juices. It was all I was 'eating' for almost a week. Suffice it to say I passed out and damn near died chasing someone else's idea of what my God meant for me to look like. But I learned my lesson."

Sam smiled and gently took her hand. "I'm so glad that you learned from that. Because you are gorgeous just the way you are. Not trying to sound all horndoggish, but you wouldn't be half as sexy and beautiful and perfect as you are if you didn't look exactly like you do."

Their waiter appeared with their pre theatre snack. For Sam, Mercedes had ordered the restaurant's seminal 911 roll; a slightly spicy sushi roll with which Sam immediately fell in love. Mercedes, herself, had the salmon avocado roll. Given the drive and the need to be on time for the opening curtain, Sam and Mercedes talked over their snack, but didn't dawdle. The hour long ride to the theater gave them plenty of time for conversation. "So, Ms. Jones…I have to ask…just curiosity, what are your limits…hard and fast…no going beyond that point…full stop limits on physical interactions with someone of the alternate gender? What does second base mean to you?" Mercedes sighed. She wasn't sure that she wanted to answer that question. Sam took her hesitation as her not really having an answer. Not having had the experience enough to really know what she was willing to do or not do. "Hey, it's okay. You're a virgin. If you don't know you don't know."

With a little laugh Mercedes laughed. "Sam, I'm a virgin…not a nun. I know what second base means to me. To me it means that we keep our pants and underwear on at all times, shirts are negotiable and bra…well that will depend."

"Depend on what?" he asked his voice thick, even the idea of seeing her in only her bra and a pair of skinny jeans…it was definitely something he wouldn't miss for the world.

Mercedes felt heat infuse her face. "I guess it depends on how much you get my motor running before we have to stop." She smirked.

"How will I know that gets your motor running, Darlin'? Any tips or do I just need to learn as I go?" Sam asked leadingly.

"Like I said Sam, I'm a virgin…not a nun. I know what kinds of things get me hot. I fantasize. I masturbate. I just don't fuck." She said bluntly.

Sam gulped as he swallowed his first sentiment, which was to say how hot he thought it was that she masturbated and asking what she fantasized about. Instead he said soothingly. "Didn't mean to piss you off, Mercedes, I just wanted to know our limits."

"Our limits?" she asked quietly.

"Well, yea, s'long as we are dating…your limits are my limits." Sam said earnestly. He chuckled a little at how cheesy it sounded despite knowing that he meant every word. "Anyway, I have to say I'm glad to hear that masturbation is allowed. Though I guess for the sake of honesty, I have to admit that it's not just relief that makes me say that."

Mercedes gave him a sidelong look. "Oh really, so why else are you glad to hear that masturbation is allowed?" Her look was slightly judgy but the smile playing at her lips and the tone of her voice conveyed another message entirely.

Sam threw her a quick smile. "Because the thought of you masturbating…is gonna be fuel for my masturbatory fantasies for at least the next week or two." he locked his eyes on the road navigating the LA streets with verve. "So…ummm…if I asked you what you fantasize about…just you know, purely for determining out lifelong compatibility…research if you will…would you tell me?"

Mercedes found that she was completely unable to not laugh at Sam's rambled query. "Maybe on a second or third date, but that is a bit much for our first real date. What kind of girl do you think I am?" she rebutted teasingly.

"A damn near perfect one." Sam mumbled inaudibly. But he didn't want to scare her off so he decided that discretion was the better part of valor. "You are a very nice girl, one I just happen to want to know everything about. But since we're almost to the Pantages, we can table that discussion until after the show. What do you think Puck and Santana are doing on their date?"

"Hopefully staying off my couch." Mercedes answered, allowing the subject change. "I think Santana said that they were going to go catch a movie then head back to the house to catch up. Were Slick and Kurt meeting up to…do you know?"

Sam shrugged as he pulled into the Pantages theatre's valet parking stand. "I have no idea. They were texting like crazy earlier."

Sam led Mercedes into the theatre, both of them so wrapped up in chatting that they didn't pay any attention to the few paparazzi milling around out front hoping to catch some Hollywood big wig having a night on the town. "I think Kurt really does like him." Mercedes said with a secretive smile. "But it is hard to tell…that boy may expect us to tell him everything going on in our love lives, but he likes to keep his cards close to his chest when it comes to his."

They were led to their seats by a solicitous usher. Sam was pleased to see that they were in the middle of the theatre, close enough to the stage to feel like they were in great seat, but far enough back that they would easily be able to see the entire set, not just the center most portion. They chatted more about their friends until the curtain was raised. At intermission, they withdrew to attend to their physical needs and reconvened, however, their new conversation centered on the play. "I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I kind of thought the music would be better." Sam whispered. In the play newly divorced 38-year-old Elizabeth, an urban planner, moved to New York City for a fresh start. She met her friends Kate, a kindergarten teacher, and Lucas, a community organizer, in Madison Square Park. Kate suggested that Elizabeth start using the name "Liz" and seek out new experiences. In complete opposition, Lucas suggested that she go back to her college nickname, "Beth," and start making professional connections in the city. The first act shows what would transpire if Elizabeth chose to become "Liz" and stayed in the park with Kate.

"I know. Maybe there will be some more memorable numbers in the second act." Mercedes agreed.

In the second act, Sam and Mercedes watched what Elizabeth's life would have become if she chose to transition into "Beth" and head off with Lucas. At the end of the play, Mercedes turned to Sam and murmured, "Wonder what would have happened if she stayed Elizabeth and made her own damn life choices."

Sam shrugged as he helped her to her feet. "Don't know…but I know that Beth's life was at least less depressing than Liz's."

Mercedes shook her head. "Nope. See what they don't show you was that Beth still married Josh, they still had the two little boys…but then he got shot coming out of a coffee shop…because that was how her life was meant to be no matter what name she went by."

"Whoa…you just took a trip on the dark side of life." Sam teased. "Actually it's nice to know that you can go there." The rest of their wait on Sam's rental was spent coming up with increasingly weird nicknames Elizabeth could have chosen to go by and what dire fate awaited her at the end of each. Sam tipped the valet heavily. No star wanted to be known as a bad tipper, but for Sam it was even more important to tip well. He still had nightmares about his family's financial struggles, and while the economy had gotten better, especially after President Sanders raised the national minimum wage to twenty dollars an hour, Sam still didn't like to think of what service workers lives were like if they weren't tipped well.

During the drive to Spago, they told each other about their families. Sam's grandmother who'd passed away two years before had been the last of his grandparents to shuffle off the mortal coil. But Mercedes had both of her mother's parents left, though she had lost her father's mother before she was old enough to remember her. Sam was the oldest of his parent's three children and Mercedes the youngest of two. While Mercedes had a total of twelve aunts and uncles, and more cousins than she could quickly name, Sam had only one unmarried uncle on his mother's side and one widowed aunt who had a daughter younger than Stevie and Stacey, on his father's. Sam told her about the fact that he was still, even as a grown man embarrassingly incapable of sleeping in a fully dark room, especially if the closet door was open. Mercedes confided that she went the other way; she liked keeping a little light in her bedroom at night for when she needed to get up and hit the head or some other nocturnal wanderings, but always slept with sleep mask because she felt better if she could pretend the room was darker than the farthest reaches of space.

They made it to Spago perfectly on time for their post theatre reservations. Outside the iconic LA hotspot, the paparazzi was not only more numerous, but more vociferous. The newly dating couple ignored them for the most part, choosing instead to continue their discussion. Sam talked about how growing up, he'd spent vast amounts of time with his father's parents. "Momma was a college junior when she had me. Neither of their parents were gonna let them put me up for adoption and my Momma might be politically pro-choice but she is damn sure personally pro-life. So once I was born, my grandparents took care of me while they finished school. PawPaw and MawMaw, my Dad's parents had me through the week since MawMaw didn't have an away from the house job. And Grampa and MeeMaw had me on weekends. I think PawPaw had me up on a horse before I could even walk."

So you didn't have to try and learn to ride a horse just for your 'He Rides the Wild Horses' video? No wonder you looked so comfortable up there on that palomino. You didn't learn to ride a day or so before hand, you've always known." Mercedes giggled a little as she realized that she'd just said a lot in those few sentences. Rather than allow Sam time to realize that she'd watched his videos enough times to assess his on horse comfort level, she continued speaking and changed the subject. "That does set you apart from the rest of the flock. I have to say I'm really glad for the resurgence of women in country music. I was getting a little tired of the kind of misogynistic lyrics that were so prevalent around the time that I graduated high school."

Sam wanted to stand up for his mentors, but Mercedes had something of a point. "That was true for the casual listener, people who just listened to country radio sometimes or watched CMT occasionally. Luke, and Dierks and Brantly, they all had some really great, deep lyrics. But those songs weren't single…they didn't get videos made or played. They didn't get radio play. So since you aren't the type to buy their albums…you missed out on some great music."

"Why did Blake Shelton's more emotional tracks make it through?" She asked truly curious. "I mean, I can think of five of the top of my head that were getting radio play my senior year of high school."

"Because Blake was and is Blake. He is sweet and nice and a true good hearted good old boy if he likes you and yet he is also someone no one wants to cross. He learned early in his career how to make sure that the upper mucky mucks think that his ideas are really their ideas. So he's gonna get his way. Besides, the last thing anyone wanted to do was make him sic Miranda on them. She's feisty." Sam laughed.

Mercedes laughed. It was a well-known fact throughout the music industry that Miranda Lambert was feisty, fierce and definitely understood the concept that you could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, but was never one to step back from wielding the sledgehammer when one was needed to move obstacles from her path. "BlaRanda and Reba McEntire are the only three I have left on my country, 'I've gotta meet them' list. I met Garth Brooks and Tim McGraw in Vegas and Trisha and Faith were with them. That was one of the best nights in like history." She said honestly.

"Was that the ACM's last year? That night was fucking epic. I met like every one of my heroes that night…even George Strait." Sam crowed. Their conversation was interrupted as their waiter arrived to take their orders.

Thankfully this waiter was as efficient as their second one had been the night before at Dave and Busters…and almost as calm and unaffected. Mercedes ordered first electing to begin their meal with the roasted quince and mozzarella "burrata" salad, topped with prosciutto di parma, and drizzled with aged balsamic. Sam, however, was never much of a vegetable eater. He went with a bowl of lobster bisque soup enriched with sea beans, trumpet mushrooms and young onions. Sam took care of ordering the accompanying wines; Mercedes a glass of a French Sancerre Sauvignon Blanc, and himself a glass of a nice dry Amontillado. "So…" Sam drawled as the waiter left the table with their first course order in hand. "Miss Grammy award winning artist, what is your reward?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice just a little too innocent.

Sam smirked. "Well, the first time I won, I bought myself a first edition, autographed, September 1963, number 1 X-Men, comic book. This year I think I'm going for the number 1 Avengers." He admitted hoping that she wouldn't think him too dorky.

"My brother would seduce you just to get a chance to look at those…granted then he would kill you in your sleep to steal them." She whispered.

"Wait, I thought you said that your brother was seeing a nephrologist, whatever that is, named Melissa?"

"He is. Totally and completely straight. Never had a single homoerotic thought, but he is the world's biggest comic book nerd. He would completely go gay for a chance to get near just one of those books let alone both." Mercedes answered honestly.

Sam just nodded. He could actually understand that. Pierre appeared with their first course and once he had left again, Sam forced Mercedes' attention back to his original question. "So…what is your reward going to be?"

The chocolate diva rolled her eyes. "I have no idea." she told him honestly. "Santana thinks that I should buy myself a real house. But I'm just one person, so, right now, the town house is perfect for me…besides I paid cash for that house…not a bit of debt after the first year, and I only stretched it out that long to undo the damage getting behind on my student loans while I was hustling to get my music noticed for real had done to my credit rating."

"Well, what is something that you've always wanted…something that you love but never had had a good enough reason to buy?" Sam asked.

The secretive little smile that painted itself across Mercedes' full, thick, lush lips made Sam's pants feel uncomfortably tight, not for the first time that evening. "When I was in high school, I developed a true addiction to animal print. The wilder and louder the better. Kurt absolutely hated it. He swore up and down no true fashionista would be caught dead in it. But then when we were playing day dream we found a gorgeous pair of knee high Louboutin five inch stiletto boots. I wanted them more than I wanted my next meal…but at the time they were almost seventeen hundred bucks. Now they are vintage and a pair in prime condition can cost close to ten grand." Her voice took on a dreamy quality and Sam knew that she was deep inside her own head space as she continued. "But some time, I still have a dream where I'm that seventeen year old me standing over that smexy pizza delivery boy wearing those boots, black stockings and lace garters and nothing else but a matching leopard print corset dress…they kind with a flirty little tulle skirt."

Sam grabbed his water glass and drained it. He needed something a lot stronger to keep him from grabbing the gorgeous woman in front of him and showing her exactly what her fantasy about their younger selves did to him. But he knew that that was exactly the wrong way to go. "Maybe one day we can make that dream come true." He said quietly. "Well…there you go. You just won seven Grammys. Hell, Puck is getting a Ducati and he didn't do anything but have massive amounts of well-deserved faith in his friend. So you can search out and find you a pair of your dream boots." Sam nudged verbally.

Mercedes nodded as she came back into herself. "You know what…you are exactly right. I might even get the whole outfit."

Sam swallowed hard. "Okay. I cannot not say this. Please don't like throw your wine in my face and storm out…or freak out or whatever. But if we make it to the whole 'til death do us part', 'man and wife' stage all I want for my wedding gift from you is that we make that fantasy of yours come true on our wedding night."

It was Mercedes turn to grab and gulp a beverage; however she went for the latter half of her glass of wine. She was saved from having to answer that entreaty by the return of Pierre and a bus boy to clear the first course dishes and take their order for the second. For the second course, Mercedes chose to have Spago's Dungeness crab risotto, with millet, quinoa, pressed oats, sunflower seeds, and chives. Sam's pick was the restaurants delicious cacao pasta maltagliatti, with braised oxtail and pecorino romano. Since Sam had shown his wine pairing skills, hard won as they were, during the first course, Mercedes demanded the opportunity to pick their choice for the second course. She ordered Sam a glass of Querceto di Castellina, a Tuscany merlot that smelled faintly of sandalwood and was flavored with rich raspberry, black cherry, baked earth and tobacco undertones and for herself she elected to have a glass of her favorite Grüner Veltliner, Tegernseerhof, with its underlying hints of white peach, lime juice and pear. The risotto melted on her tongue and the wine was its perfect mate. Almost like Sam seemed to be for her. Mercedes almost choked on her food as the thought pervaded through her consciousness. It was entirely too soon to be thinking like that. She scolded herself.

"So Sam, since I completely overshared there…you need to repay the embarrassment…what is your go to fantasy?" She asked trying to channel her inner Santana.

Sam turned beet red, but he wasn't one to back down from a challenge, let alone one that he could see getting him closer to his goal…to have Mercedes Jones become Mercedes Jones-Evans by the time the next Grammys rolled around. He knew it was early, and he wasn't going to share the goal with her yet. His Momma hadn't raised any fools. "You mean other than the leopard print garbed goddess standing over me allowing me to worship her…" he smiled. "Well…I guess I have to tell you that my dream last night…if amended to take care of your need to maintain your honor until marriage is definitely gonna be my other new favorite. In the fantasy…well I would stay completely dressed and you'd keep on a skirt or dress or something…as I knelt between those pretty brown thighs of yours and licked and sucked and teased and fingered, what I am sure has gotta be the sweetest pussy I'll ever have the pleasure of tasting, until you come apart in my arms screamin' my name to the heavens, Darlin'."

Mercedes water goblet and wine glass were both emptied before she could fully form even a partial sentence. "Oh. Oh my. Ummm. Okay…think that one back fired on me. As many of those Evanovich novels as I've read…I never understood how a man could cause panty ruination with just a few words…but I get it, I totally get it now. Wow. If you liked my little daydream half as much as I liked that…" she took a deep shuttering breath. "Okay in the interest of self-preservation it is now time for a complete and total subject change. Tell me more about the song you're doing for the soundtrack?"

So they talked shop as they finished the second course and placed their order for the seared diver scallops on a bed of pad Thai noodles with red Thai curry sauce, holy basil, peanuts, and kaffir lime leaves, grilled prime New York steak, glazed baby carrots, radishes dressed with sauce bordelaise, and the accompanying glasses of Dom. Laporte, Sancerre Le Rochoy sauvignon blanc and Domaine Bois de Boursan châteauneuf-du-pape respectively. By the time the food and wine arrived, Sam and Mercedes had moved from work to their hobbies, comic books and sci-fi books, movie and RPGs for Sam and fashion, friends, reading and art for Mercedes. The discovered that in addition to action movies they both loved Dean Koontz and Brandon Massey novels and were more than a little in love with old school horror like Poe and Stoker and Ireland. By the time Pierre came to take their dessert order, even the waiter could see the writing on the wall. As he wrote down their similar orders of the Black Bowl, a chocolate crumble parfait with cardamom glace, espresso air whipped cream and chocolate brulee cookie and the Rock, Pebble, Chocolate dish comprised of almond cream, warm truffles, cool truffles, and bon bons, he jotted on his note pad a note to raise his bet with Carl the bus boy he was paired with for the night. Those two would be married within six months and have a child on the way by the time they came back to celebrate the first anniversary of that evening. Pierre was so sure that he was going to up the bet to two hundred rather than the fifty it had begun at after the first course.

Mercedes Jones Residence

Wednesday, February 12th, 2020

La Habra Heights, CA

As Sam walked Mercedes to her door, he was filled with certainty and purpose. "I wish that I didn't have to head back to Nashville tonight." He told her honestly.

"Me either." she smiled. "But you have all my contact information. So it doesn't have to be a bad thing. We can take this time to get to know each other better."

"I just want you to know, I'm taking that to mean that I can text and email you from the plane." Sam warned.

Mercedes laughed merrily. "Good. Make the first email a cute story from your childhood." She commanded.

"Nope." Sam shot back making the p really pop. "I want to know if I can make your panties completely combust from thirty five thousand feet."

"Boy stop." She said with a flirtatious giggle. "But Sam, really…I had an incredible time tonight."

"Me too. It just felt like everything clicked into place tonight." He smiled. Lowering his mouth to hers he captured her lips in a kiss that sent bolts of arousal shooting through her and for the first time in her life, the thought of tossing her virginity out the window was seriously considered. Before she could do something she probably wouldn't regret near as much as she should, the door opened behind her.

"Man, good thing you finally got here." Puck's voice cut through their pleasant haze of want and need. "We're due at the airport in two hours, Trigger has everything packed and loaded in the SUV, but you've gotta get back to the hotel to check out of your room and return the rental car. Plus me and Tana ran out of condoms like an hour ago."

Sam and Mercedes sighed, but dutifully broke apart. "Hello Puck, nice to see you again. Glad I could help you win your crazy expensive motorcycle." Mercedes started cordially. "If you get your dumb ass hurt on it…I will help your mom kick your ass. And you and Santana better not have gotten any booty juice on my couch."

"Love you too Mercy and I thank you for winning enough Grammys that Sam has no choice to but to keep up his end of our highly publicized bargain from the very bottom of my heart. You know that we kept our sexin' to Tana's room. I wouldn't disrespect her or you like that." Puck defended.

Mercedes saw the sincerity and honest regard for her and Santana in her friend's gaze. "Alright. But you'd better send her something nice Friday."

Puck agreed solemnly. "I will send Santana the boss ass Valentine's gift. She still likes tiger lilies more than roses right?"

"Yeah, but she is in love with tulips now." Mercedes told him with a smile…being Puck's sounding board for wooing women was a role she was very used to fulfilling even if it had been some time since she was called upon to do so.

Sam pulled her back against her. "And what about you Ms. Jones…what would a devoted acolyte to your beauty, talent and person send you for a romantic holiday?"

"Other than diamonds." She teased before shyly admitting. "I have no idea. I've never really gotten a Valentine gift from a guy I liked before. The guy I dated in high school claimed he was a Jehovah Witness, and they don't celebrate anything like that."

"Lying mutherfucker. Shane's ass was in Mass every time I turned my happy ass around." Santana shouted from behind Puck. While the former Marine had gotten dressed, Santana had thrown on her kimono, fully authentic and purchased in Japan during one of Mercedes' tour dates when she was opening for Beyoncé on Bey's world tour. "You want me to think you're good enough for my girl, Evans… get the Titans to trade Tinsley to the Buffalo Bills…or somewhere equally cold and fucking miserable."

Mercedes started arguing with her best friend but behind, and above, her head Sam nodded solemnly. In his mind he was already trying to figure out how he could make up for all the years Mercedes had gone without gifts on the world's most romantic of days…without freaking her completely out.


Here is my Out With A Bang Big Bang Writing Comp Story.
I will post two chapters at a time until it is fully posted. The story is completely complete and if you want it posted faster, all you have to do is REVIEW!

BTW: As usual if you would like to see the fashions for this story, Check out the Illy & Anni Yahoo Group. The Pics are all up.

Si C'est Noel & Les Ames Soeur will be back in the next 2 weeks.

Thank you all for your patience.

TTFN,
Anni