Disclaimer: I know nothing, I hear nothing, I own nothing, and I see...Samcedes being done wrong in their storyline. I DON'T CARE ABOUT RACHEL BERRY! GIVE ME MORE SAMCEDES...

And more Tina. That girl gets the short end of the stick every damn week.

As I owe the IRS a ridiculous amount of money due to a clerical error, I have taken to drinking my sorrows away. Somewhere in between binges, I choked out this chapter. Let me know if it actually makes sense because my head is a bit fuzzy at the moment.

Sam sat at his desk going over a proposed pitch for a potential client. As he marked X on a number of mockups from the art department, he barely looked up when his door swung open to admit his assistant. Santana Lopez was 5'6", beautiful, and possessed a temperament that match the fire red color on her expertly manicured nails. Her glare had even the senior partners quaking in their $600 shoes. She may be young and had little experience when he hired her, but he couldn't imagine getting through his day without her. As she stopped in front of his desk, a pile of paper landed in front of him.

"You need to tell those chicken heads you date to stop calling the office. This is a place of business, and definitely not a brothel. If they want to sell their ass to get their photograph taken, they need to peddle their wares elsewhere. You got 22 messages from 4 different women, 1 of which you dumped recently." She gave him a pointed look.

"I told you not to dump her with jewelry. Now she thinks you just 'need more time'."

"I was trying to let her down easy. And I know she likes diamonds."

"Yeah. Especially when they're bought with Your money." Santana said with a snort.

Sam dropped his red pencil, gathered the loose bits of paper and dropped them into the trash can by his desk. "You have my complete permission to tell them whatever you want from now on."

Santana stared at him completely shocked. For years she had been telling him everything that was wrong with the women he dated. Big boobs, spray tans and blow jobs only got you so far. He needed a girl to smooth over the rough spots not someone who went out to buy a new dress when she found one.

"Why now?" Then she narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you actually went through with your stupid plan?"

Sam quickly picked up his pencil and went back to marking. He wasn't gonna stare at the Gorgon sitting across his desk lest he get turned to stone.

"Sam, what the fuck were you thinking? Instead a handful of chicken heads, you went and found you an alpha chicken head? What's wrong with you? Is the lemon juice seeping into your scalp again?" Sam tuned her out as she went on her usual spiel about he don't know how to pick a woman and her offer to find him a girl. The last girl she set him up with, a little blonde girl named Brittany was a disaster. She kept talking about some dolphins that were in her dance troupe and what her cat said to her. Sam didn't follow anything she said.

Hell of a dancer though.

When Santana started lapsing into Spanish, Sam knew it was time to interrupt. "I don't need you to set me up with anyone. I made my choice and I'm happy with it." His voice held a note of finality to it. She sighed.

"So what's so special about this one? She actually has a brain bigger than her breasts?"

Sam reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and took out the picture Puck gave him. He gave a little smile before handing it over to Santana. She looked at him suspiciously before taking a long look at Mercedes. The only sign of her thoughts she gave was a raised eyebrow. For a few minutes, she didn't say anything. Finally, she looked up with a newly appraising eye.

'Maybe he can be taught'. She thought to herself.

"So…" She placed the picture back on the desk. "Why'd you choose her?" unknowingly echoing the question Mercedes asked him just a few nights ago.

FLASHBACK

"I want to know why you chose me."

Sam took a long drink of his water in order to put off answering the question while he really thought about it. He didn't want to give her some trite answer about her beauty or something equally superficial. While she was beautiful and sexy as hell, somehow he sensed that she wouldn't be entirely comfortable hearing something like that from him so early in their relati…Arrangement…fuck. 'I gotta watch that'.

She sat waiting patiently while he formulated an answer that would suffice. He sat back on the couch.

"First, let me ask you a question." At her nod of assent, he posed his query.

"What did you do with the advance I gave you that first night?" He watched her face carefully, looking to see if his faith was justified.

She had a mild look of confusion but no sense of subterfuge. "I put most of it in the bank. I got a few bills that I took care of, I bought a few books like the one you interrupted tonight…" he gave her a mild sheepish look of apology. "… and the rest I put in my savings account." He nodded.

"That's why I chose you."

"Ok, what does the balance on my bank account has to do with anything?"

"You put the money in the bank. You paid your bills, you bought a few mild luxuries and you saved the rest. You didn't go out and blow it on a new pair of shoes or go to the spa and get the works because you thought you could come back with your hand out for more. You're not depending on me to take care of you, even though our arrangement is almost exactly set up for it. Did you quit your job?"

"The aural facilitator position?" Her mouth twitched. "Yeah I quit my phone sex job. But I'm still working part-time at my friend Tina's place."

"Exactly. I have dated women in the past. Beautiful women that the whole world knew was beautiful, including themselves. Everything was about trading up. One of my exes broke up with me because even though I was the quarterback, dating a college guy would make her more popular. One is now married to my millionaire boss and is currently recuperating from an ass job in Brazil and another is his mistress. There is only 1 woman I've dated in the last 15 years that was even somewhat worth my time and if I ever get married, she'll be the best man at my wedding." He chuckled, thinking of Quinn.

'I should introduce them.' He shook his head and continued.

" You first caught my attention because you had a picture that was sincere and honest. It wasn't posed and fake. Then we chatted online and you actually had something to say and you didn't tune out or change the subject when we started talking about something I wanted to talk about. Alternatively, you didn't let me do all the talking. We were open with one another and even though we didn't chat online for an extended period of time, I knew that I wanted to get to know you better. You have beautiful eyes, an adorable nose, and a mouth that can drive a sane man to distraction and you don't seem to have any idea of the effect you have. While this arrangement isn't for sex, if it ever happened, I don't think I'd have any reservations or regrets. But that's not what I'm here for. If it was that I could find that for a hell of a lot cheaper than what I'm paying you. I want your company and I'm willing to pay for it. I have a feeling that I could get it for free but it makes me happy to do something for someone because I want to and not because they expect it. If I ever bought you a diamond tennis bracelet, it'd be because I'd want to buy it for you and not because you've been dropping hints or withholding sex to get it. I'm tired of being used, I'm tired of games and I'm tired of pretending that sex is the be all and end of all of everything. I'm almost 30 years old and I want to get to know a person and truly be known by them."

There was a stretch of silence as she stared at him in slight disbelief. He shifted on the couch, waiting to see what her response will be. Finally she smirked and said,

"Drive a sane man to distraction, huh? I wonder if I should put that on my business cards. Mercedes 'the mouth that drives a sane man to distraction' Jones." She considered it for a moment and then shook her head.

"Nah. Too long."

END FLASHBACK

"Looks like you actually like this girl." Santana said to him, shaking him out of his reverie.

"huh? Why you say that?"

"Because you got a dopey look on your face while you listed all of her good qualities in your head. I hope for your sake that you drop your 'prince charming' act and actually let this girl get to know you. Because if she's everything you claim she is, you break the terms of the contract, you will lose her. Better make sure she likes you too."

"I won't break it. Which reminds me..." He reached into his briefcase and pulled out an official-looking document. "This is the contract we signed. Make sure its notarized."

Santana stared at the document in disbelief. "You actually signed a contract? An Actual Contract?"

He shrugged. "Her idea."

"I like this girl more and more." Santana said in approval. "You know I'm going over this with a fine tooth comb looking for loopholes."

"I'd expect nothing less."

Suddenly, there was a banging noise outside the door. Santana closed her head in annoyance and stood to open the door. Yanking it open she barked, "What do you want, Crip?"

"To take you over my knee and spank that ass. You need one badly followed by your mouth washed out with soap."

"You ain't getting near my ass or my mouth and you ain't got the balls to try." She stared down at Artie Abrams, who rolled into Sam's office in his custom wheelchair.

"I would show you my balls anytime you want, sweetheart but I'd be afraid you'd want to show me yours."

"I guarantee they're bigger than yours."

"I don't doubt it. Even the most talented surgeon wouldn't be able to get all of them chopped off during the sex change operation. How many times did you have to go under the knife before they gave up?"

"I could ask the same of you, Crip."

"My balls are just big enough to choke a bitch. If you're so interested, I'd be happy to demonstrate."

"I have no interest in digging out my magnifying glass, thanks." She turned to Sam. "I'm checking this contract and while you're at lunch I'm fumigating the office." She looked at Artie. "The stench of a waste of space can't be covered with Lysol." She turned on her heel and slammed the door.

Artie looked at Sam and smirked. "She wants me."

"Is that what it is? I thought it was utter and complete loathing."

"You need to learn how to read women, white bread." Artie rolled up the other side of Sam's desk, where Mercedes' picture lay. He gave a low whistle.

"Who's the hot mama?" Sam smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"My new girlfriend."