AN: Again, many thanks for your kind reviews! I enjoy hearing your comments, rants, and theories. So here's Chapter 4. Enjoy!
I can't help it baby, this is who I am
Sorry, but I can't just go turn off how I feel
-"Kill", Jimmy Eat World
The smell of her Dad's famous stuffed French toast teased her nostrils. Mercedes groaned, burying herself deeper under the blankets. Her bed was so soft, and she really didn't feel like getting up, but that breakfast was calling out to her.
Grudgingly, she swung her feet over the side of the bed. Apparently the wine hadn't left her system completely, because she caught a slight spin on her way up. Mercedes pressed her fingertips lightly against her temples and massaged slowly.
She took great care into getting up from her bed and walking into the adjoining bathroom. Thankfully, the medicine cabinet was completely stocked; she measured out two ibuprofen capsules and swallowed them. While she waited for the meds to kick in, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. By the time she showered and dressed, Mercedes felt miles better.
She was just slipping her feet into a pair of glittery gold flats, when her door burst open. Quinn breezed in, a bright smile on her pretty face. "Oh, so you are awake" she said by way of a greeting.
"Thanks for knocking, Q" Mercedes said. She sat down at her dressing table and opened her makeup bag. "I could have been naked."
Quinn shrugged, throwing a sly grin her way. "Not like I haven't seen you naked before."
Mercedes smirked, turning towards the mirror. She expertly applied her makeup, keeping it minimal with kohl eyeliner to her upper lids and a hint of mascara. "You're quite chipper for someone who was drunk off her ass last night."
"I wasn't that drunk," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Okay maybe a little. Besides, I knew your dad would be up early, making his famous Saturday breakfasts. That sobered me up."
Indeed, she was looking bright and fresh-faced. Quinn's fashion sense had evolved since high school. Gone were the country-chic jeans dresses and eyelet baby doll wear. Traveling around the world gave her perspective on a lot of things, fashion included. She was definitely funky now, all exotic patterns and vibrant jewelry.
The dress she was wearing was a cross between an Indian sari and a knee-length peasant skirt, which she paired with dusty brown combat boots that were no doubt some vintage designer. Her arm was littered with dozens of bracelets that were patterned with traditional Indian designs. Mercedes loved her new haircut too. It was heavy on the bangs, and short on the sides, giving her an almost pixie-like appearance.
Mercedes smiled at her friend. "You look really cute today."
"Thanks. I was going to say the same thing about you. Getting all dolled up for breakfast?" There was a teasing glint in the blonde's eyes.
"If you must know, Ms. Nosy Ass I'm meeting up with Sam today."
"Mmm-hmm," Quinn said knowingly.
"What? What's that for?"
"Oh nothing. I'm just interested to see how long it's going to take before you two have reunion sex."
"Quinn!" she exclaimed with a small giggle.
The blonde smiled. "Listen, we both know it's inevitable. You two break up, reunite, shag like bunnies, go your separate ways, and then start the cycle all over again. It's the Samcedes way of love."
Mercedes shook her head. "I'm just trying to see if there's anything left to salvage. Eight years is a really long time, Q."
Quinn eyed her best friend. "Not if you really love someone. If it's love, you can wait forever."
She sighed. This was a really heavy conversation to be having on an empty stomach. "Do you really believe that?"
"Of fucking course I do," Quinn replied. "Mind you, I'm not talking about bullshit rom-com love. I mean scary love, the kind where you feel like you can't breathe at night, lying awake, thinking on someone so much that it's a physical pain. Like the thought of being with that person makes you feel sick and happy at the same time."
Mercedes was stunned by her answer. Not because it was ludicrous, but because it sounded quite plausible. "But love shouldn't hurt, Quinn."
"The good kind always does," she replied. "It's a bittersweet pain." Mercedes noticed the slight change in her friend's demeanor, but she chose not to push it. One never knew with Quinn; every day it was a test to see which side of her would appear. She'd come a long way since her lost days in high school, but that girl wasn't completely gone. Mercedes knew that Quinn Fabray's well of mysteries ran deep. The woman was a magician of emotions, showing only what she wanted others to see and almost never revealing the secrets behind her tricks.
Sometimes even to her best friend.
Quinn's stormy eyes quickly morphed back into a pleasant hazy green. "Forget it, okay? This is too heavy for so early a conversation, and on an empty stomach. Let's go gorge ourselves on French toast."
Mercedes wanted to object, but held her tongue. Besides, she had her own demons to deal with. She stood up and smoothed down her breezy navy sundress before linking arms with Quinn.
The two women headed downstairs, the smell of sausage and bacon making Mercedes' mouth water. There was laughter coming from the kitchen, as well as Nina Simone's husky alto singing softly from the iPod dock.
Mercedes was shocked when she entered the kitchen to find Sam seated on one of the stools at the island counter, laughing with her mom and dad.
Irene looked up. "Oh good morning girls," she said between chuckles. "I was just about to come upstairs and get you two."
"Morning, Mom" Mercedes said. "Sam."
Sam's eyes raked over her outfit, the approval all over his handsome face. "Good morning, Cedes," he rumbled. His large hands clutched a mug that no doubt held her mother's fresh-brewed caramel cappuccino. "I know I was supposed to call you, but I figured I'd take the chance and come over."
Quinn rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Whatever, Evans. You know you're here for the Tony Jones blue plate breakfast special."
Sam laughed. "Guilty. I smelled the stuffed French toast all the way from Puck's house."
"You weren't fooling us at all, son" Tony called from the stove. Quinn walked over, planting a kiss on the older man's cheek as she fell into her assistant role. Ever since her stay with the Jones family when she was pregnant, she was always Tony's right hand man in the kitchen. Mercedes loved that her friend took to her father, especially since she knew Quinn longed for a stable Dad figure in her life.
Mercedes was his 'Sunshine', and Quinn was 'Firecracker' and the two loved their Pops dearly.
"Well either way, we're glad to see you this morning. You and Sam can set the table, baby. We're having breakfast on the veranda" Irene directed at her daughter, pointing at the plates, cups, and cutlery on the countertop.
Mercedes grabbed the plates while Sam gathered the rest up and they headed towards the enclosed sunroom, located right off from the kitchen. It was one of her favorite parts of the house. It was full of windows and the sunlight streaming in made the room cheerful. Mercedes set the plates down and began to fix up the table, with Sam following her lead.
"I hope it's okay that I stopped by," he said as he finished arranging the cutlery. "I couldn't sleep and figured I'd take the chance that you'd be awake."
She glanced up at him, her brown eyes meeting his green. "It's fine. I'm happy to see you. Plus I'm sure everyone was still knocked out from last night. You were looking for food."
Sam laughed, his nose scrunching adorably and Mercedes couldn't help but grin back. He really was remarkably handsome. The years had been incredibly kind to him, and he was looking delicious in a fitted grey v-neck tee, dark jeans, and checkered Vans. On his head was a slouchy grey beanie and he was sporting at least a week's worth of scruff but it only served to enhance his 'grown man swag'. In many ways he was still her Sammy, the goofball she loved dearly in high school. He was still in there somewhere under the trappings of adulthood.
By the time they finished, Quinn was bringing out a platter of French toast and sausages. Sam moved to help her and she eyed him warily. "No sneaking food, Evans" she warned, nothing but amusement in her tone. "We all know how you are."
Sam's eyes were wide with mock innocence. "I seriously have no idea what you're talking about, Fabray."
"Please," Mercedes said with a snort. "We can't leave food unattended around you. I remember we almost came to blows once because you ate my last slice of pizza when I wasn't looking."
"You didn't look like you were going to finish it," he replied easily, shrugging his broad shoulders.
"Sam, I turned away to answer my phone and by the time I looked back, you'd stuffed the whole thing in your mouth!"
The trio laughed. "Remember that time we were all out and he took the last breadstick?" Quinn said. "I thought it was the beginning of World War III when Santana finally noticed."
Mercedes giggled as Sam wrinkled his nose. "I can't believe that you guys still remember that," he said. His fingers reached out for one of the sausage links, only to be promptly slapped on the hand by Quinn. "Ouch!" he exclaimed. "It's not fair to torture a man with such a delicious spread when he's slightly hungover."
"You just have to wait like the rest of us," Mercedes said. They went inside to help bring out the rest of the dishes, laughing and joking the entire time. A few minutes later everyone was seated and bowed their heads as Tony said grace. After a chorus of 'Amens', the group dug in.
"Mmm," Mercedes moaned after a bite of the stuffed French toast. "Daddy you have no idea how much I've missed your breakfasts." Indeed, her father (and Quinn) had cooked up a mini-breakfast feast. Besides the French toast there were sausage links, bacon, hash browns, and spinach and gouda omelettes. Mercedes was in heaven.
Tony chuckled. "Well you know I had to do something nice, now that my girls are home," he said, smiling at his daughters. "How's the job going, Firecracker?"
Quinn grinned. "Pretty good. I just got back from assignment in Australia. I might be heading to London next for the Travel Channel. They want me to do a food tour of some famous London eateries."
"That's wonderful, honey" Irene said. "You should bring back some recipes for Mercedes. Lord knows she could use them."
Quinn and Tony shook with silent laughter as Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Mom…"
Sam, who was seated next to her, glanced up. His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Still can't cook, huh Cedes?"
"Shut up! I can cook."
"I distinctly remember the time we were supposed to make dinner for Glee Club and someone nearly burned down this very kitchen," Sam reminisced.
Mercedes blushed at his words. Sam Evans was not playing fair. Yes, the kitchen almost caught fire that day, but it wasn't from her lack of cooking skills. She was distracted by a mischievous blond who decided their time was better spent having silent but rough sex against the counter than keeping an eye on the food. Her eyes traveled to his and he shot her a knowing smirk, reading her thoughts.
She had to grin; the cheeky bastard was playing dirty, but she wasn't going to sin her soul in front of her parents. "Your memory is faulty at best, Evans. I'm a decent cook."
"Sure you are, baby" her mother patronized.
Quinn shot her a sympathetic look. "It's alright, Mercy."
"Thanks, Q. I'll have you know I've cooked for Kurt plenty of times."
"And he lived to tell the tale?" Sam joked, earning him a jab with her butter knife.
Mercedes chuckled, even while she rolled her eyes. Her mediocre kitchen skills were a running joke in the family. She wasn't entirely hopeless, and could manage quite well if there was a cookbook and heavy supervision involved. "I'll have you know I've graduated from pasta and scrambled eggs. I can cook stuffed chicken breasts and even tried my hand at baking."
Everyone laughed and Sam patted her arm. "So long as you're trying, darlin'" he said. The combination of his twang and his touch created warm fissures that shot out all over her body. Mercedes caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. Now really wasn't the time to get the tinglies, especially in front of her parents.
The rest of breakfast went smoothly. They were in the midst of clean-up when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" Mercedes called out. As she walked towards the door, there was a fluttering feeling of panic in her stomach. She soon realized why when she opened the door and found Finn on her front porch.
"Hey," he said softly. His lips twitched into something resembling a smile, catching her off guard.
"Hey yourself," she replied. Call her crazy, but he actually seemed to be in a good mood for once.
Finn stepped into the foyer, his large frame towering over her. He was dressed casually in a black thermal Henley and dark jeans. "I called you a few times, but you never answered your phone."
Mercedes realized she'd left her phone upstairs. "I think it's still upstairs. We were having breakfast."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to bring your car back." He held up her keys.
"Thank you," she said. "And no, you didn't interrupt. We were just cleaning up."
"Okay, cool." He seemed to relax and Mercedes couldn't help but feel guilty. She was the reason he was so unsure and tense around her. "So, Kurt was supposed to pick me up from your house but he's still trying to recover from last night. I don't think he'll be conscious until it's time to head over to lunch at Mr. Schue's." His brown eyes met hers. "Do you think you can give me a ride back?"
"Oh…" she started. But before she could finish her sentence, she heard a deep voice call out.
"'Cedes we're finished up in there. Give me a few minutes and we should be ready to go," Sam said, walking to her side. He smiled at Finn. "Hey man, what are you doing here?"
Finn's eyes darted to Mercedes, who quickly averted her gaze. His jaw clenched. "I was just dropping off Mercedes' car."
"Cool. Well do you need a ride back to your place?" Sam asked. "We were just heading out. I don't mind dropping you off."
Finn's nostrils flared as Mercedes finally looked up at him. She could see the visible irritation and something akin to hurt and it made the ball of guilt in the pit of her stomach grow larger. But try as she might, she was at a loss for words. She practically flinched when he spoke again. "No, that's fine. I'll walk."
"Finn," she started. "You live almost twenty minutes away, and that's while driving."
"I said I'll be fine," he said shortly. She knew he was close to losing his temper and decided that maybe having him in an enclosed space together with Sam wasn't such a good idea.
"Mercy, do you think you and Sam could drop me…Oh hey Finn," Quinn said as she entered the foyer.
Mercedes had never been so happy to see the blonde woman in her life. "Hey Q!" she said far too brightly, earning her a raised eyebrow from both Sam and Quinn.
"Hey," Quinn said slowly. There was a weird look on her pretty face as she eyed the scene in front of her. Mercedes knew what she was thinking. Finn looked pissed, Sam was confused, and she was eight shades of fucking panic. She shot Quinn a pleading look.
"I was hoping to catch you and Sam before you left. I wanted to get a ride downtown to do some window shopping at the mall before meeting up with everyone." Quinn turned to Finn. "How about I take Finn with me and we'll see you two later at Mr. Schue's?"
Mercedes sighed in relief, forever grateful towards her quick-thinking friend. "Sounds good." She tossed Quinn her keys. She glanced up at Finn, whose look was unreadable. She knew he'd completely shut down his emotions. "Is that cool with you, Finn?"
"Whatever, " he said, not even bothering to look at her. "I'll be outside." Before anyone could stop him, he turned and headed out the door.
Sam glanced between the two women. "Is he okay?" he asked.
Mercedes opened her mouth to answer, but Quinn stepped in. "Oh he'll be fine. I can't imagine he had an easy night, taking care of all those drunks at the Hudson-Hummel abode."
Quinn's eyes slid towards Mercedes. "Mercy, we'll just all leave out together. I'm going upstairs to get my purse."
"I should probably grab my phone." She turned to Sam. "I'll be right back."
The two women hopped upstairs, and Mercedes knew Quinn was going to say something. She went into her room and grabbed her purse and made sure to put her wallet, keys, and phone inside. Before leaving she put on her cardigan. It was a soft shimmery gold cashmere number, and it was one of her favorite pieces. Giving her make-up a quick touch-up, she headed out into the hallway, nearly crashing into Quinn.
"Jesus, you scared me!" she exclaimed, righting herself.
Quinn arched a dark eyebrow at her best friend. "We're going to keep this very short, Mercy" she said, her voice low. "I don't exactly know what's going on, but if I had to guess I'd say that Finn is very territorial over you." Quinn raised a hand to silence Mercedes' protests. "Like I said, I'm keeping this short because I'm afraid of what will happen if Finn is left alone with Sam. Just my observations. We'll talk later."
With that, the blonde turned and made her way down the hall. Mercedes sighed. What she dreaded what was happening before her eyes, and apparently the drama was noticeable. But Quinn was always more perceptive than most people, so she used that tidbit to try and ease her mind.
When she returned downstairs, Sam was talking to Quinn and her parents. Her heart jumped at the sight of him clad in a fitted black leather jacket. She'd wager that it was the same one he had in high school. It was always one of her favorite things he wore. The nostalgic feel of this particular moment was not lost on her. High school Mercedes, the diva…that part was slowly taking over, and at the present, she didn't feel like suppressing it.
"Mercy, Sam said Finn was here earlier?" her mother questioned.
"Yeah, he dropped off my car."
"That's odd. He always stops by the house whenever he's in town. It's not like that boy to be rude."
"He's not feeling so well," Quinn interjected. "Mercy gave me her keys so I can drop him home."
Irene shot her daughter a look that Mercedes couldn't decipher. She was hoping her mother didn't press the issue any further, and thankfully she didn't. "Okay then. Well tell him the next time he stops by, he'd better say hello. Famous football player or not, he'll still get popped upside the head."
Quinn smiled. "I'll read him the riot act, Moms. Have fun on your trip." She kissed Tony and Irene and gave Sam a playful punch on the arm before facing Mercedes. "I'll see you two later at Mr. Schue's."
"Sounds good," Mercedes said as Quinn left quickly. She turned to Sam. "Are you ready?"
"Yep. Miss Irene, it's always a pleasure seeing you. And thanks for the breakfast Mr. T." He leaned down for Irene to kiss his cheek and shook hands with the older man.
Tony smiled. "Nice to see you too, son. And you're welcome for breakfast. I know Noah Puckerman isn't the same young hothead he was back in the day, but the boy is still a fool. He's probably still lazing in bed."
Mercedes giggled. "Daddy leave Puck alone. He's grown up now, and a respectable adult."
"The boy will always be a fool, Sunshine. I stand by my statement."
"Oh hush, Tony" Irene said. "These young people don't want to hear your crazy ass theories. Tell the rest of the kids we said hello and that we're sorry we missed them. I doubt you two will be back before we leave, so give me a hug."
Mercedes complied, squeezing both her parents tightly. "Have a good trip. Bring me back something good, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Uh-huh. You just make sure that my house is in one piece when we return."
Sam laughed. "I'll make sure to keep her in line, Moms." He winked at Mercedes, who ducked her head, hiding her smile. "Well we should get going." He offered his arm to Mercedes, who gingerly accepted.
He was a perfect gentleman, opening the door of his truck and helping her inside before shutting the door. She buckled herself in and turned as he slid into the driver's seat. "So where are we headed?" she asked.
"Well, I figured we'd head out to the Rail Trail for a bit. I need to walk off some of that breakfast."
Mercedes chuckled as he patted his stomach for emphasis before starting up the truck. "You fatty."
Saturday morning at the Rail Trail was always a gamble; people were milling about everywhere, but Sam knew it was one of Mercedes' favorite spots in Lima. Besides nature walks there were small parks up and down the nearly 5-mile stretch of black pavement.
After all this time, the Rail Trail remained unchanging. She smiled when he pulled into the familiar parking lot before cutting off the engine. He hopped out and jogged around to her side, opening the door and holding out his hand. Even as she stepped down and shut the door, his hand still clutched hers, the warmth from his skin making her cheeks blush.
Sam grabbed a small bag from the backseat and they headed out towards the trail. They passed a number of elderly people on a morning stroll, seasoned joggers on their daily run, and families out enjoying the sunshine. The laughter and screams of children at play in the park a few miles down the way was still audible.
Mercedes sighed. It was gorgeous out, a perfect spring day in Lima and for the first time in a long time, her heart felt light. She glanced up at Sam, who was humming softly and swinging their clasped hands. His eyes met hers when he felt her staring and he smiled. "What's up, sweetness'?"
"Nothing," she said with a shrug. "Just enjoying the weather and the company."
Inwardly, she beamed at her nickname. Back in the day, it was his preferred moniker because he said her laugh was 'sweet like sugar'. She thought it was incredibly adorable, if not extremely dorky and she told him on several occasions that his 'Southern was showing'.
They walked in comfortable silence for another fifteen minutes before finally coming to a stop. She grinned happily, taking in the scene before her. "Wow," she breathed.
"Yeah," he said. It was their spot, discovered on a dusky evening filled with boredom. It was a little ways off from the Rail Trail, hidden behind clusters of trees and bushes. Mercedes loved nature and the outdoors, and within their little garden, she indulged to her heart's content.
Sam grinned, tugging her into their paradise. "Come on, let's see if it's still the same."
They called it Secret Garden, but it was more than that. There was a field of vibrant wildflowers and a large, babbling stream. Honeysuckle grew in thick, scented clumps, surrounding the area and giving it an air of privacy. It was their piece of heaven, and as far as Mercedes could tell, they were the only people who knew it existed; their small piece of Pandora, idyllic and lush.
The amount of time spent in the wooded oasis…it was some of the best parts of her life with Sam: late-night serenades, hot summer days splashing barefoot through the stream, lying amidst rows of lavender and cornflowers, her fingers gently combing through Sam's hair, her face buried in his chest, their whispered conversations and pledges of love breaking the tranquility.
The secret garden was the visual embodiment of their love. And though it was neglected for quite some time, life bloomed and flourished within.
Finding a good spot near the stream, Sam opened the small bag to reveal a blue fleece blanket. He spread it out on the grass before taking off his leather jacket and plopping down. He reached for Mercedes, who obliged him. They lay on the blanket on their backs, basking in the warm sunlight on their faces.
"So," Sam said after a brief moment of silence. "How's life?"
Mercedes sighed. Guess it was finally time to have this conversation, she thought. "Life is…life, I suppose. Still living in Brooklyn with Kurt. Still writing for Wrecked."
"I know. I subscribe to Wrecked online."
"Wow. Really?"
"Sure," Sam replied. His face was still facing the sun, his eyes shut. "You really are a fantastic writer, Cedes. But then again you always were."
"Thanks, Sammy."
"Are you still writing in your journals?"
"Of course. I'm actually trying to finish up my novel."
Sam smiled. "That's great!"
"I guess. I gave it to a colleague to read and she passed it along to her editor friend. They were supposed to call me with their feedback, but I haven't heard from them yet."
"You will, sweetness. You're far too talented for them to pass you up. Didn't I tell you that we're gonna see your name in lights one day?"
Her heart tripped a beat at that memory. It was still hands down, the best damn 'moment of truth' gesture she'd ever seen. Lloyd Dobler didn't have shit on Sam Evans. "Yeah, maybe. I'm trying not to think about it, especially while I'm here. If it happens, it happens."
A peaceful silence settled in while they enjoyed the soft sounds of the tumbling water in the nearby stream. "How's work?" she asked after a few moments. She stole a glance at him.
Sam grinned. "Pretty damn good. I'm in the process of developing a new series with a buddy of mine, maybe trying to set up a social media site strictly for comic book geeks."
"That sounds really good."
"Yeah," he said with a nod. "I'm doing a bunch of different side projects. I'm trying my hand at painting. So far, so good. Not sure how I'm going to balance all of this stuff, especially with this job offer from Marvel."
"What!" Mercedes exclaimed. She turned to him, excitement making her eyes sparkle. "That is so cool!"
"Yeah, " he said, her joy making him a little giddy. "I'd be a contract inker/artist and still be able to work on my own stuff in my spare time."
"I'm so proud of you. And thank God it's Marvel. I don't know if we could still associate with one another if you worked for DC." They both laughed. "By the way, 'Wasteland' is pretty badass. Very Alan Moore-esque."
His lips quirked into his signature lopsided grin. "So you do read it."
"Never miss an issue. It's not every day a girl has a comic book heroine based off her." Mercedes chuckled at the faint blush in his cheeks.
"Picked up on that, huh?" he asked sheepishly.
She snorted. "'Marina Jensen', Sam? It wasn't that hard to figure out."
"Then there's that awesome ass of hers," he added. His olive eyes were playful as he propped himself up on his elbow to face her.
"Still ridiculous as ever," she said with a smile. It was so easy to fall right back into things with Sam. He was forever easygoing, his laidback attitude alleviating her overanalytical mind almost instantly. But still, she couldn't exactly erase eight years. "I missed you." It was a good place to start, and those three words conveyed her feelings quite succinctly.
Apparently Sam agreed. He studied her for a moment, eyes boring into hers but it wasn't uncomfortable. "I missed you, too" he replied.
Mercedes sat up, crossing her ankles and smoothing down her dress. "What are we doing, Sam?" she questioned.
He flopped on his back again, hands clasped behind his head. "I don't know, Cedes. It just feels right."
"It's this place," she said. "There's so many memories tied to the Secret Garden. We're just wrapped up in nostalgia."
"Is that a bad thing? Isn't that what you're supposed to do at reunions?"
"Maybe," she replied. "But we can't live in the past forever, Sam. Sooner or later we have to face the present."
He sat up completely, eyebrow raised in her direction. "When did you become such a pessimist?"
"I'm more of a realist, actually. Time changes people. I'm not that little girl anymore." There was a hint of bitterness in her tone and she didn't even bother to analyze why.
Sam picked up on it. "No, you're not." He was still studying her, his gaze full of curiosity. "You're different."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"I haven't quite figured that out yet. I noticed it last night at dinner. You seem…sad."
His accurate assessment hit her like a sucker punch. Sam's perceptiveness was a gift and a curse; she was never able to hide anything from him. "Things…things have been kind of rough."
"Care to share?"
"Not really."
He frowned at that. The Mercedes he knew never kept secrets from him. That was the best part about their relationship—they weren't just lovers, they were best friends. He could talk to her about anything, and in turn she would share all her secrets. It was a mutual trust. But eight years changes the dynamic. He had to acknowledge that she was right; they weren't those people anymore. "Does it have to do with me?" he asked. There was no point in beating around the bush. Talking around the issue wasn't going to get them anywhere.
Mercedes sighed. "Eight years is a long time, Sam."
"You keep saying that, but I'm wondering if that's just an excuse."
She rolled her eyes. "It's not an excuse; it's the truth. You just don't want to admit it."
Sam reached out, covering her hand with his larger one. "Mercedes," he started. Her gaze met his and she practically shuddered at the emotion in his eyes. He was about to drop some serious knowledge. "I know we can't go back. I'm trying to tell you that I want to move forward. I'm sorry that things aren't better between us, but I would like them to be. This week is our chance to maybe right the wrongs and move past whatever's blocking us, because frankly after eight years, I'm tired of not having you in my life."
Mercedes blew out a shaky breath as his words sank like a stone in her chest.
He gauged her reaction before letting out a quiet chuckle. "Too soon?" he asked.
"You were just saying how you feel," she answered. She couldn't be upset with him over that, but something was bugging her. "I'm just wondering why now?"
"Seems like an opportunity is presenting itself, and I'd feel like an ass if I didn't at least try." Turning fully towards her, Sam reached for her hands again. "I'm not saying we pretend like this time apart didn't happen. But for now, let's just be in this moment, right here, in our secret garden."
Mercedes could feel herself getting tangled in the undercurrent of his emotional words. Nevermind her paranoia at being abandoned by him again, or her guilt over Finn. She tried to push that deep inside and focus on the boy who at one time in her life, loved her more than anything in the world.
Sam could feel it in his gut; something was different with Mercedes. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, and she wasn't exactly overflowing with information. He'd hoped bringing her back to the special place they once shared would open her up, but no such luck. One minute she was laughing and joking around, and the next she shut down.
He wasn't used to this woman, and frankly it was driving him crazy. If he heard the words 'eight years is a long time' again he was going to scream. It was quickly replacing 'it was a summer fling, Sam' as his least favorite phrase in their relationship lexicon.
Yes, time had slipped away from them. But couldn't she see just how much she meant to him? Maybe he was being too forward. His mother always said his ambition was his best and worst quality. Ambition gave him tunnel vision, making him blind to everything except getting what he wanted. 'Single-minded and reckless as hell' was how his mother described it. He didn't do it on purpose, but when felt strongly about something, he had to act. But maybe this time he needed to curb his shit and just hear her out.
"Something you want to get off your chest?" he asked. He watched her tiny brown fingers idly twist the hem of dress, gathering the thin fabric in small, nervous bunches between her digits. He could always tell when something was bothering her. That was a peek of his old diva; she could pretend to be tough as nails and give off an air of 'don't fuck with me', but that shit never worked with him. He could read her better than most people.
Still, she wasn't letting him in and it was beginning to concern him. He watched as she shrugged her shoulders. "It's cool" she said in a breezy tone that didn't match the sadness in her eyes. At that moment her phone beeped loudly, interrupting the serenity of their surroundings.
It was a text from Kurt.
I'm alive, no thanks to you. We're on our way to Mr. Schue's for lunch, in YOUR car with Quinn and Finn. Jesus, talk about an awkward ride. Did something happen this morning? Finn is kinda grouchy. –Kurt.
Mercedes checked the time; it was almost one. She couldn't believe they'd spent so much time lying on a blanket, but that was the magic of Secret Garden. "It's Kurt. Apparently everyone's heading over to Mr. Schue's."
Sam frowned. He really wanted to continue their conversation, but decided it was best not to push her. He watched as she quickly typed a message back to Kurt before slipping her phone back into her purse. Her eyes focused back on him and she smiled. "I'm sorry if I'm being a little cryptic," she said. "I really do want us to get over this hurdle and be…well whatever it is we're supposed to be."
"I'm glad to hear that, sweetness." he said, his voice low. "Now, let's get going. I wanna see if Mr. Schue is still rocking those damn sweater vests."
Twenty minutes later they stopped in front of an adorable Tudor-style home. "This is it," Sam said.
Mercedes smiled. The car ride hadn't been as awkward as she thought. Sam kept her entertained with stories about work and singing along to the radio. They lightly danced over their previous conversation, and for that she was grateful. It didn't feel right, talking to Sam about her fears in their special place, as if the negative talk would taint the aura surrounding their happy memories.
Jesus, she was beginning to sound overdramatic. This was not her. She was Mercedes Fucking Jones and didn't run away from her issues. She needed to be honest with the man. She cared deeply for Sam, but was afraid to admit that she still might be in love with him. The fear of the unknown and questioning the strength of their bond was leaving her with doubts. Try as they might, their foundation was rocky. These hurdles had to be overcome before they could move forward with any kind of future.
And then of course, there was Finn.
Her head dropped to her cradled hands with a sigh. This was a goddamn clusterfuck.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked, his eyes filled with concern.
"I'm alright," she replied. Mercedes lifted her head to meet his gaze. "I've been so damn ridiculous and I'm sorry. You're right. It's been too long, and for what? I still care for you and do I want you back in my life, but I'm just wondering if shit for us will always be this way. We were so solid back then, and then things just crumbled. A lot's went down and there's a ton of hurt on both sides, and my fear is that we can't move forward. So that's why I'm freaking the fuck out because I'm scared that this is just a fleeting trip down memory lane and is that really good for us?" She sucked in a large gulp of air.
Mercedes could feel his eyes on her and her cheeks flushed. She hadn't meant to say all of that, but she didn't regret it; the fears were legitimate.
"Feel better?" he asked, his voice low.
She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "A little bit. I still care for you, Sam but…"
"Then that's the only thing that matters," he interrupted. His hand reached for hers, grasping it tightly. "Let it be, Cedes. Shit always came naturally for us. We don't have to rush anything."
"Thank you," she said, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. They were so full of emotion and tenderness, it made her heart flutter. "I forgot how damn pushy you are, Evans."
"That's why I need you, sweetness. You always kept me in line." Sam unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the middle console to kiss her cheek. Mercedes shuddered at the feel of his lips lightly grazing her skin. The simple touch was enough to soothe her heart and calm her fears.
"Let's go inside, Evans." She pushed him playfully and he nearly tumbled out the driver's side. She waited patiently as he got out and walked around to open her door. She'd learned a long time ago to wait for him after the boy would practically snarl whenever she'd try to get out on her own.
They walked up the cobblestone path to the front door and rang the bell.
"Well hello, you two! You're the last ones to arrive."
Mercedes grinned at her former guidance counselor. "Hey Emma. Sorry we're late."
Emma Schuester smiled, her eyes wide and excited. "Don't worry about it, dear. You're looking lovely Mercedes. Nice to see you, Sam."
Sam kissed the older woman on the cheek as they stepped inside. "You too, Em."
"Everyone is in the backyard. We're having lunch outside."
They walked through the spotless foyer and living room and headed towards the kitchen. The patio doors were open and they could hear loud laughter coming from the deck.
"Look who's here!" Emma called as they stepped out onto the patio. There were two circular tables set up on the large deck and everyone was already seated and chatting. Will Schuester looked up and smiled at his former students.
"Glad you guys could make it," he said, hugging them both.
"Sorry, we lost track of time" Sam replied.
"Don't worry about it," Will said. "We wouldn't have started without you."
Mercedes sat down between Artie and Quinn while Sam went to the other empty seat next to Matt. She glanced up to notice Finn's dark eyes watching her. His gaze was intense and she looked away.
Lunch was pleasant. There was lots of talking, laughter, and plenty of reminiscing. It was nice to see their old teacher again. Will was still at McKinley teaching European History and also preparing to lead his current glee club to Regionals. Since Mercedes' senior year, New Directions won Nationals four other times. Mr. Schue was getting offers from other schools begging him to coach, but he refused to leave. McKinley was his home.
He and Emma married after eight years ago after graduation and had twin girls, Sage and Paige. They were chubby little gingers with cute smiles and curly hair. She was glad to see her former teacher doing so well.
Every now and then she would catch Sam's eye and smile. He kept pulling the most ridiculous faces to make her laugh and she nearly choked on her chicken salad. Quinn studied their exchange, her peridot eyes thoughtful. "Seems like you two are having a good day," she stated.
Mercedes shrugged. "We talked for a bit and decided to let things happen naturally."
"Seems like a solid plan."
Mercedes eyed her friend. She could tell something was bothering the blonde, but she didn't want to push.
Instead, Quinn spoke again. "You need to be careful, Mercy."
"Are you talking about me getting hurt again by Sam?"
"Well there's that," Quinn said with a nod. "And the fact that Finn clearly has strong feelings for you. How do you think he feels, seeing you get all chummy with Sam again?"
Her dark eyes darted around, but no one was paying them any attention. "But what Finn and I had is in the past," she hissed. "There's nothing more to it."
"Are you sure he knows that?" Quinn questioned. They both looked at Finn, who slid his eyes in their direction. "Because those looks he keeps giving you definitely don't say 'I'm over you'."
She was about to reply when Artie leaned over. "You ladies might want to cover your food," he said. "Finn keeps looking over here like he's hungry as hell."
Quinn chuckled. "Oh he's hungry alright. But not for food. Right, Mercy?"
Mercedes shot Quinn a murderous look. "Shut up, you."
"What's going on here?" Artie asked. "Are we keeping secrets? Who y'all got dirt on?"
"Why are you all up in everyone's business?" Mercedes questioned.
Artie sucked his teeth, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. "Girl, please. I'm just trying to ratchet things up. My woman is back in L.A. and I'm bored. You know I've always lived an 'ain't shit' life. I'm nosy as shit and I smell drama."
"Aww, Artie you're dating someone?" Quinn smiled.
"For about five months now, which you would know if people could actually find your ass once in a while." The three friends chuckled. "I'm gonna let this slide, because we're in front of company. But later on at the club tonight y'all gonna tell me what's going on."
Mercedes shot him a look. "Wait, what club?"
"We were talking about it before you got here," Tina said. "Lima has an actual nightclub."
She laughed. "Get the hell out. Forreal?"
"Yeah," Tina nodded. "Apparently it's fairly new, but it's the cool place in town to go."
"So we're going and getting fucked up," Artie said. "Because Lord knows I can't tolerate half you bitches without some kind of alcohol in my system."
A night out on the town actually sounded kind of fun. Good thing I brought that cute dress.
And the 'fuck me heels'. Thank you Kurt, she thought silently.
"Wait, how are we all getting there? Someone's gonna have to be 'DD'. We can't all drink and drive."
"Oh Rachel took care of that," Tina said with a smirk. "One call to her 'not-Sugar Daddy' and we got ourselves a limo."
Mercedes couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course. "Well I guess that's good."
"Good? Woman we gonna roll up in style. Popping bottles and everything." Artie high-fived Mike, while Quinn and Tina laughed.
All of them going out to a club, in a limo, paid for by an anonymous pimp. "This is gonna get messy, isn't it" she asked.
Artie grinned. "One can only hope, boo."
The rest of lunch had flown by, with everyone promising to stop by their alma mater sometime during the week. Mercedes was feeling excited about her night out on the town. Lima actually having a club was a pretty big deal, and even though she was a seasoned New Yorker now, she was interested to see how her small town did the club scene.
By the time she and Quinn returned home, her parents were gone. It was only six and they didn't have to meet everyone until nine-thirty so the girls opted to watch a movie. Mercedes made the kettle corn while Quinn hemmed over the Jones' extensive DVD collection.
When Mercedes returned with the bowl, Quinn was already cozy on the couch watching the DVD previews play on the large LCD screen. "What are we watching?" Mercedes asked, plopping down next to her.
"Jurassic Park. What?" Quinn asked. She'd glanced over to see Mercedes giving her side-eye. "I have a thing for Jeff Goldblum. Don't give me side-eye."
"Whatever, weirdo." They ate the popcorn in silence while watching the action onscreen. Jurassic Park brought back a lot of Sam-related memories. She was a movie nut, just like her blond ex and their Spielberg versus Cameron battles were legendary. Mercedes insisted many times that James Cameron was a hack who wasn't fit to shine Spielberg's shoes, but Sam fiercely defended his pick.
"Come on, Cedes!" he would say, his cheeks flushed. "The man is a legend! Point Break, Last Action Hero, True Lies, Escape from New York, ALL of the Terminator movies."
"Your argument is invalid, Blondie. Jurassic Park, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, motherfucking JAWS, Indiana Jones, E.T., and of course The Color Purple. You aren't winning this, baby."
"Yeah? Not even with Avatar?"
"Especially not with that crapfest."
"Oh girl, I don't think we can date anymore. "
"Poor baby. What if I told you despite James Cameron being a total douche-hack that 'Strange Days' is totally one of my favorite movies?"
Sam smiled, kissing her on the cheek. "That kind of makes up for it. Tell me you like Alien and maybe you can be my girlfriend again."
Mercedes nuzzled his nose. "I love Alien, Sammy. Ripley's a badass."
"I cried at Schindler's List," he admitted, wrapping her in his arms.
She chuckled. "My sweet, sensitive man. Avatar is okay, I guess."
"Mmm," he groaned, nuzzling his lips into her neck. "Don't threaten me with a good time, sweetness."
"Shut-up, boy" she giggled. "Well at least we can both agree on one thing."
He glanced up at her, a wide grin on his face.
"Titanic is shitty," they said in unison before erupting into laughter.
"Mercy!" Quinn's voice dragged her from her daydream. She looked up to see the blonde shaking her head. "You are so sprung."
"Shut up, Q" she said, her cheeks flushed.
"I can't wait to see Sam push up on you at the club, working those body rolls of his." Quinn's eyes were lit up, a teasing smile on her pretty face.
Mercedes tossed a kernel at her face. "You are such a dick," she said grinning. They watched the movie for another hour before deciding it was time to start getting ready. After a quick shower, she set her hair in heated rollers and took her time primping.
She was still only wearing a black lace strapless bra and matching boy shorts when Quinn burst in. Mercedes was in the middle of applying eyeshadow and glanced up. "How the hell are you dressed already?" she asked.
Quinn shrugged. "When you live out of a suitcase the majority of the time, you learn to make moves. Besides," she said with a sly smile. "I'm not trying to impress anyone special."
Mercedes would have rolled her eyes, except she was trying not to mess up her smoky eye. "Whatever. You do look cute though." She was wearing a strapless dress in a deep red that matched her vibrant lipstick and showed off a lot of leg. Her short blonde hair was teased into a sleek fashionable pompadour. A pair of dangerously high stilettos completed her look.
"Thanks. I was feeling all vixen tonight."
"Trying to push up on some cute girls?" Mercedes asked, slipping into her 80s-inspired dress.
A ghost of a smile played on the blonde's lips as she zipped up her best friend's dress. "Something like that. I'm not looking for anything serious. There's no room in my life for commitment at the moment."
"Heartbreaker."
Quinn chuckled. "You know it." She took out Mercedes' rollers as she put on her jewelry. "I'm so tired of these self-absorbed girls. I just want someone I can stand to be around for more than ten minutes without wanting to gouge my eyes out."
"Wow," Mercedes chuckled. "If that's your lead-in, no wonder the ladies are knocking down your door."
"Oh, you have no idea. I take care of business. I'm just not about the bullshit anymore. I'm too old, and life's too short."
"Amen to that, soul sister." Mercedes finished her hair and fluffed out her curls. She adjusted her breasts in the dress, pushing them up. After stepping into her shoes, she turned. "How do I look?"
Quinn licked her lips. "Good enough to eat," she said with a wink.
The two girls laughed. Mercedes' phone chirped. "It's Kurt. The limo's outside." With one last check in the mirror, she quickly sprayed on her favorite perfume and shoved her ID, bank card, and cash into a small black and purple clutch that already held her lip gloss, house keys, and a small tin of mints.
"I hope we aren't the last ones in," Quinn said as they rushed down the stairs. "I really don't feel like being squished."
"I'm sure we aren't…whoa." They stepped out and saw a behemoth Hummer limo sitting idly in front of the house. "Of fucking course," Mercedes said as they walked towards the limo. A chauffeur opened the door and they slid inside. Thankfully they weren't the last ones in; it was only Kurt, Blaine, Artie and Finn. And of course Rachel.
"Hello ladies!" Rachel greeted them brightly. She was dressed in a grey designer dress that was eight shades of scandalous. She sipped from a champagne flute and Mercedes swore she was already tipsy. "Welcome! Would you like some champagne?"
"No thanks," Quinn said.
Mercedes shook her head. This was all just too much. Apparently Kurt agreed. His side eye was working overtime and she had to stifle a laugh. His ice blue eyes met hers with a look that clearly read 'this bitch' and she hid her snort behind her hand.
It was going to be a long night.
Pulse was apparently the place to be in Lima on a Saturday. Mercedes was pleasantly surprised. The club was a decent size and the music was bumping. Once inside, the group commandeered several tables towards the back of the club that gave them a little privacy and access to the dance floor.
The girls went out, dancing in a large group while the guys sipped drinks and watched from the table. There were shouts of laughter when Artie wheeled out and began to pop and lock with them.
After twenty minutes or so, Mercedes made her way to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic to ease her parched throat. She was just about to reach into her clutch for cash when a large pale hand swatted her money away.
"It's on me," Finn said. He smiled down at her. He slid a ten spot on the bar and handed her the glass. He was looking particularly dapper tonight in dark jeans, a white t-shirt and grey and black striped cardigan that stretched tight over his large frame.
She returned the smile and accepted the drink. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, M.J."
"I'm back to 'M.J.' now?" she inquired, taking a sip of her drink. "You're not mad at me anymore?"
"I can never stay mad at you," he said. He was close to her, leaning in so she could hear him over the music. "Especially when you look so fucking hot in that dress."
A sharp shiver raced down her spine, and Mercedes didn't know if it was from the liquor in her system or his bold ass words. "Finn," she breathed.
Finn dipped closer, practically pinning her between his body and the bar. "You're wearing my favorite perfume tonight, gorgeous."
He hadn't touched her at all, but his closeness was confusing her. "Finn, stop. Someone will see." She knew this was a bad idea, especially when his fingers reached out, brushing a few stray curls out of her face.
"You've been avoiding me, M.J. and I'm just trying to figure out why." He was so close, but to the average gawker they were just two people trying to have a conversation in a loud and crowded club.
Her heart was racing and she was trying to process her thoughts but all she could focus on was the look of heated lust in his dark eyes and his weighted bulk pressed against her. "I need time to think, Finn. Please."
"I still want you." he stated bluntly.
"I know" she sighed.
"I don't think you do, M.J." His forehead rested on hers and he breathed deep. Mercedes realized he was trembling slightly.
"Finn, come on." She gently moved herself out of his embrace and took a step away. "I just have to work some stuff out. We're friends. I don't want to fuck this up."
Finn's laugh was humorless. "Sure, Mercedes. Whatever you say." He picked up his beer bottle and took a healthy sip. His brown eyes flashed as Sam approached.
"Cedes! Come on out and dance with me!" Sam's arm snaked around her waist.
Mercedes nearly jumped at the contact. "Uh I'll be right there," she said, smiling at him.
Sam grinned. "Don't keep me waiting too long!" He body rolled his way back to the dance floor, joining Santana and Matt in an impromptu robot dance off.
Her eyes turned back to Finn. "We are friends, Finn. Believe me; I'm not trying to hurt you."
A slight frown crossed his features as he stared silently at her. He waited a beat, taking another sip of his beer before speaking. "Don't want to keep Sammy waiting, Cedes." His voice was dripping with sarcasm and she was torn between feeling guilty and wanting to throw her gin and tonic in his face.
"Fine," she huffed. Mercedes downed the rest of her drink and slammed the glass on the counter. With a flip of her hair, she walked to the dance floor to join her friends.
"You need to stop."
Finn glanced up to see Kurt occupying the space that Mercedes just vacated. He rolled his eyes at his brother and finished his beer.
Kurt was undeterred. "I'm serious, Finn. You practically humped her fucking leg. You're lucky I was the only one paying attention."
"Whatever, Kurt" he said, his jaw tightening. He'd just been an absolute dick to her and he didn't need Kurt to reprimand him; he already felt like shit.
Kurt's face softened as watched his brother. He was obviously deep in his feelings, and seeing Sam with exclusive rights to Mercedes was fucking with his head.
Finn's gaze traveled to the dance floor, watching as Sam and Mercedes danced together. The blond's hands gripped her hips tight as she swayed in time to his rhythm, her ass pressed against his crotch.
This was just sheer fucking torture.
"Finn, for your sake…just back off."
"Why should I?" he snarled. His irritation was at full mast now and he had to turn away from them before he lost his shit.
Kurt's voice was laced with sympathy. "Because you're only going to hurt yourself in the end. You have to let her work through this. If you keep pushing her, you'll lose her completely."
Finn glanced down at his brother before daring to look at them again. Seeing Sam and Mercedes together, bodies pressed intimately, her hands clutching the lapels of his black blazer…the scene made his heart hurt.
"I can't stop, Kurt" he rumbled. "I think about her all the time."
"Give her some space, let her breathe, and then you guys can talk this out."
The brothers were silent once more. "I don't know if I can be just friends with her," he finally said.
"Well you have to try," Kurt said. "Because you're not him. What they have…it's inevitable. And you standing in the way is only going to piss him off, confuse her, and break your heart. So back your shit down. I say this with love."
With one last pat on the shoulder, Kurt left his brother alone with his thoughts, joining his boyfriend and the rest of the group out on the dance floor.
The weight of his brother's harsh but well-intentioned words hit him like a freight train. He watched his friends dancing and having fun. Beneath the pulsing lights and the thumping music, Finn felt absolutely nothing.
Up Next in Chapter 5: The girls have lunch, the boys play basketball, New Directions returns to McKinley, and Sam and Mercedes grow closer. Thanks for reading!
