Disclaimer: On first page

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me, you guys! Sorry it's taken me a while to update, I've been swamped with coursework. I loved reading your reactions to the little plot twist of the last chapter! You guys are the absolute best! I promise I'll finish responding to your reviews later today. I hope you enjoy this chapter! I used Salt-n-Pepa's "Whatta Man" and Justin Timberlake's "Set The Mood Right" in this chapter, neither of which I own. Listening to the JT song might enhance the scene, so youtube it and queue it up!

Enjoy!


"Talk to me, Mercy. C'mon, please?" Sam watched as she shook her head, sniffling and avoiding eye contact. His heart sank as she choked back a sob, her chest heaving. He knew if he pressed any further she'd shut him out.

Sitting next to her, Sam tested the waters by rubbing her back in soothing circles. When Mercedes didn't push him away, he drew her into his side, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Y-you just left me there," she managed to choke out between shaky sniffles.

He knew it; catching the bouquet triggered her. Regret and shame formed knots in his stomach and flushed his cheeks. He felt like the biggest jackass in the world sitting here trying to comfort her when he, yet again, was the reason for her tears.

Sam had done a lot of soul searching and growing up in the last two years, but that didn't make the hurt he'd caused her magically disappear. It wasn't that he thought that it would, necessarily; he just let the ease that had quickly developed between them distract him from the deeper issues they needed to work through.

It was his fault.

The minute he got on the train back to Providence, he knew that he'd been unreasonable, but his pride refused to let him go back. Mercedes had every right to want to wait, and he shouldn't have reacted the way he had, he knew that.

Granted he also had every right to be upset about her hesitation, but leaving her out there alone after the weekend they'd shared, and then freezing her out - it was immaturity at its worst. And while he wished that he could have gone back and handled it better, he was thankful that she hadn't accepted his proposal. No matter how ready he thought he'd been, he wasn't.

"I know, and I'm so sorry, Mercy; I was such an ass," he managed to mumble into her hair.

Sam was exceedingly grateful that he couldn't see her face at the moment; if he had to see the pain that was no doubt written all over it, he didn't know how he'd deal.

"I know that I've said sorry a few dozen times in the last 24 hours, and before we leave Napa, I'll probably have said it a few dozen more."

He took a deep breath before starting again. "And I know that saying sorry isn't magically going to fix things between us, no matter how much I mean it. But I believe that if we're honest with each other we have a shot easing the pain and moving on; at the very least as friends, though I hope it will be much more than that."

Sam held his breath, feeling her tense then relax back into his side with a deep sigh. "You know," she began, her eyes on the tightly clasped hands in her lap, "I'm going to be honest with you: I've forgiven you, but I haven't forgotten. And it's almost like it's not even the who that has me all messed up anymore, but the what if that makes any sense."

Sam watched as Mercedes ran the knuckles of her balled fists against each other; it was a dead giveaway of just how vulnerable she felt in that moment. His heart swelled and he gave her upper arm a supportive squeeze, silently prompting her to go on.

"But I just can't bring myself to trust you, though I'm sure you expected that. If I'm even more honest than I'm comfortable being, quite frankly, I'd have to admit that the scariest part is that I want to trust you again."

Mercedes turned her big brown eyes towards him, and in them he found sincerity tinged with trepidation. Then her chin quivered, and he wanted to die for ever having made her feel this way.

Maybe he'd get Artie to run him over a few hundred times.

He took a deep breath and cupped her cheek. "I want you to trust me again," he admitted, "more than anything." And it was true. Sam knew that despite all the heartache, there was no love lost between them. He'd overcome his pride and fear, and she was on her way to healing the hurt. The only thing that would keep them from mending their relationship going forward would be a lack of trust. But he wouldn't let that stand in their way.

Mercedes laid her head on his shoulder. "It's going to take some time, you know. It's insane how quickly we fall back into being 'Sammy and Mercy' when we aren't thinking of what ended it. It's just so easy, because it's all still there. But that doesn't mean that I'm ready to be with you again, no matter how much I want to be."

Sam felt his pulse quicken; she still wanted to be together, like together together. He felt relief wash over him; that was all he needed, her desire. As long as she was willing and open to the possibility, he would work his ass off to make it happen. He was nothing if not perseverant, after all.

"I understand," he said, quietly. "Just know that I am going to do whatever I can to gain your trust, Mercedes. I lost you twice; I couldn't help it the first time, but the second time was all me," he said, regret ringing in his voice. "I'll be damned if I fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to me again."

"You know what they say, three strikes and you're out." Sam didn't have to face her to know a sassy smirk was tugging at her lips; it often accompanied that wry tone. "Though maybe I shouldn't be mentioning anything that has to do with diamonds for a little while…"

They both chuckled, breaking the remaining tension. "So I'd love to sit here with you for the rest of the evening," Sam said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "but there's sort of a wedding we have to get back to…"

"Shit!" Mercedes exclaimed, jumping up from the couch. Sam instantly missed the feel of her soft warmth against his side. He placed his hand on the small of her back and gently guided her out the door and down the hall, noting with a smile the way his touch made her shiver.

"It's all good, Satan and I did some damage control. We should be getting back though, you've been 'in the bathroom' for quite some time now," he quipped, trying not to laugh as she swatted at him.


As Mercedes entered the hall, she was happy to see the guests and bridal party dancing to the DJ's set. Truth be told she was mortified about her reaction to catching the bouquet, but apparently she had covered it up well enough for everyone but Sam and Santana. Sam was trying to drag her onto the dance floor when she noticed Artie whispering into the DJ's ear.

"Alright, we have an indirect request from the bride via a groomsman," he said, laughing. "To the blushing bride Tina, who kept this off the list of approved songs because she thought her choreographer husband would think it's too corny. This is for you!" The beat for the "Cha Cha Slide" dropped and the guests were abuzz with laughter and excitement. Mike shook his head lovingly at his wife before kissing her and getting into position on the floor.

Mercedes looked up at Sam to see him looking expectantly down at her, his lips pressed together holding back a laugh. She hated that he knew how much she secretly loved the dance, as cliché as it was.

"Fine, fine, let's go. You suck," she grumbled, though she knew that he knew she was excited. They slid in next to the bride and groom and began to clap their hands. They could barely get through the song as they spent most of it laughing until they were breathless. Mercedes saw Tina blow a grateful kiss to Artie as the song ended.

The DJ resumed his set with Salt-n-Pepa's "Whatta Man" and Mercedes set a chair in the middle of the dance floor after getting the signal from Santana; it was time for the garter toss. Tina sat down in the chair, blushing furiously as Mike danced cheekily up to her. Kneeling down, he slid his hands up her right calf, waggling his eyebrows at his blushing bride. Suddenly, he pushed her dress up to her knees and turned around to face his groomsmen.

"Will you get a load of these gams? How lucky am I?"

"Michael Chang!" Tina exclaimed, laughing as the entire bridal party wolf whistled.

He slid the right side of the dress a little bit higher on her thigh to reveal the tossing garter and flashed her an unapologetic grin. Mike held her leg straight out, supporting it at the ankle as he dragged the garter down her smooth, toned leg with his teeth.

Mercedes was doubled over laughing at her friend's shocked yet slightly turned on expression. After Mike slid it off her foot, he pulled her up off the chair into a kiss that made the guests burst into applause. Walking away from a dizzy Tina, he beckoned his groomsmen and single male guests.

"Alright you schmucks," he taunted, "gather 'round, it's time for a little game of catch." Schmucks, huh… Mercedes thought to herself. Clearly he'd spent some time with Tina's grandfather.

The men gathered behind him, and he got ready to toss the garter back. Mercedes sat at a nearby table watching in amusement until she noticed Santana waggling her eyebrows at her, along with Quinn. They both were giggling hysterically.

"What?" The pair only giggled harder, unable to answer her.

"You...forgot…didn't…you…" Quinn managed to gasp out, leaning on Santana for support. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at the Latina, demanding an explanation.

"You…caught…the flowers," Santana choked out between laughs before pausing to take some deep steadying breaths. "You better hope Trouty doesn't catch the garter…"

A second later, when her mind finally made the connection, she wished she could melt and disappear. Of course she had to be one to catch the goddamn bouquet, and since fate was in rare form that day, there was a good chance he'd be the one to catch the garter. And then he would have to put it on her leg…in front of everyone…to a sexy song.

Mercedes would never admit that a tiny part of her was thrilled, especially since most of her was silently willing him to fumble. She watched as Mike counted down from three just as Tina did earlier and faked the men out a few times before flinging the lacy garter into the air. And, because she had somehow angered the gods, a large pale hand shot up in the air and grabbed it just as the others were only starting to jump for it. Mercedes' eyes traveled up the arm connected to the hand to find a dazzling smile and a sparkling set of green eyes, focused on her.

She was in trouble.

Quinn and Santana practically deposited her into the chair Tina had sat in minutes ago, shooting her looks before joining the rest of the bridal party and dissolving into giggles yet again. The DJ looked a bit too entertained as he got on the mic.

"Alright, we have a winner – or maybe two of them…" the bridal party began to catcall in Mercedes' direction. "Here's how it's gonna go ladies and gentlemen: when I drop the beat, my dude is going to place the garter on this fine lady's leg. But here's the catch: the louder you cheer, the higher that garter goes! Just clap when you think it's in place." He started the song, some smooth Justin Timberlake, and that's when it sunk in.

She was screwed.

Sam's expression was practically predatory as he approached her. Kneeling down, his right hand slid the heel off her right foot as his left hand slid up the back of her calf. A soft, almost inaudible gasp escaped her lips as he gently caressed the sensitive skin on the back of her knee. But if the smoldering look he tossed her was any indication, he heard her loud and clear.

Slipping the garter over her foot, he purposely grazed the skin on the inside of her ankle, making Mercedes shiver. He slowly worked the lace up her smooth calf, his eyes never leaving hers, and then stopped about halfway to her knee.

"Here?" Sam asked their audience, receiving a resounding "No!" followed by cheering. "Don't worry, I won't stop…" he rumbled, low enough so only she could hear.

Though she hated to admit it, the warm, calloused hands firmly sliding up the smooth brown skin of her leg were beginning to make her tremble. Mercedes bit her bottom lip and clutched the sides of the chair to steady herself. As he pushed the garter up over her knee, his fingertips once again massaged the back of it, and she quivered. His smile of satisfaction grew as he felt her responding to his touch. Again, he paused, and the cheering became even louder.

Sam let his right hand tug the garter along the outside of her thigh while the fingertips of his left hand grazed the soft skin of her inner thigh. Between his intense gaze and the small, teasing loops he was tracing higher and higher along the inside of her thigh, Mercedes was certain she forgot how to breathe.

Thankfully, the guests finally applauded. Sam shot her a knowing smile before placing the heel back on her foot. She stood, steadying herself before walking a little shakily over to the bridesmaids. Santana met her eyes with a mischievous smile.

"Wanky."


The rest of the wedding went smoothly. After the last dance Mike and Tina said goodbye to their guests and headed to their suite in the west wing. Sam was pretty certain there was a collective sigh of relief among the bridal party when they saw them head for the wing opposite from where they were staying. He loved them, but he didn't quite want to hear them love each other.

After all of the guests filtered out and were brought their cars by the valets or secured cabs, the bridal party headed to the rec room to wind down before turning in. Sam headed back towards his room to grab a charger for his dying phone when he saw a fuming Rachel storm out of Finn's room and barrel down the hall, nearly knocking him over. Well that can't be good, he thought to himself. Instead of going to his room, he decided to check on Finn.

"Come in," Finn said, hearing Sam's knock. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"I saw Rachel leave-"

"Let her go," Finn spat, bitterly. "She's batshit crazy."

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He knew Rachel was a nut, but Finn had always stood up for her. If he did call her out on something, it had always been more on the side of constructive criticism. But he didn't hear a lick of understanding in his tone.

"What- I mean, do you mind if I ask what happened? Do you wanna talk about it?"

Finn looked up at him, and Sam was taken aback. His normally medium brown eyes were dark and angry, his face was flushed and he looked positively enraged.

"You know what, I'm not usually the 'talk-it-out' type, but I need to vent. I can't keep this shit bottled up right now."

"By all means, I'm listening," Sam assured him, settling down into a chair opposite his friend. He watched as Finn got up and began to pace across the rug in front of the bed, scrubbing his hand over his face in frustration.

"Okay, so you know how I told you earlier that she thought she was pregnant?"

"Yeah…"

"Well first of all, she drags me inside straight after the ceremony, right in the middle of a conversation I was having with Tina's grandparents, which pissed me off. I mean, how rude, right?" Finn went on, his jaw clenched, "So she takes me to one of the sitting rooms on the first floor of the house and starts crying. She just sat there bawling her eyes out for a good five minutes."

Typical, Sam thought.

"Then she went on about how stupid she was to leave me when we had something so good and that she was blinded by her ambition and that she was wrong. Which, I mean, she was; she basically said I was beneath her, you know?" He let out a breath and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"You aren't, Finn. You know that; if anything you're too good for her," Sam reassured him.

"Thanks, man. So I can't get a word in edgewise. She goes on about how we have to be a family for our baby and how I'm going to be the best dad. Honestly, at this point I kinda softened up about it, ya know? She was crying and pregnant and I did have feelings for her," he sighed.

"So…what changed? Between then and now when she almost ran me over, I mean." He watched as Finn began to get angry all over again.

"So we talked some more and then I told her to give me time to think about it. After the reception we came in here to talk some more. When I asked her when we should go to the doctor to get a definitive result, she handed me this." Finn handed Sam a small manila envelope.

Opening it, he found what looked like an ultrasound image and some vitals and statistics with her doctor's letterhead, dated three days ago. "So wait, she knew for sure that she was pregnant, but she told you she wasn't sure? That doesn't make any sense…"

"Oh, no," Finn said, darkly, "that's not even it. That's not what made me mad. She thinks I'm so fucking dumb, that I'm still some dumb fucking teenager." He got up and began to pace, even more frantically than before.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, lost.

"So you know two months ago when she landed this part that made her go from intensely ambitious to fucking insane? Well she told me that her character was virginal and innocent, so to prepare we couldn't have sex for the first month of rehearsals, until she 'got' her character down."

"Damn, that's harsh…"

"And because I'm accommodating, I put up with it. I didn't like it, but I could deal because I thought it would help her. We didn't have sex again until a week before she broke up with me, and it was only once. She completely pulled away from me after that." He pinched his nose in frustration. "Now open up the report and look at the second to last line highlighted."

Sam unfolded the page and read the line. "Duration of gestation to date: six weeks." When it hit him, his stomach sank, and he felt sick. "And you didn't have sex with her until three weeks ago…oh my god..."

"Again!" Finn shouted, "After knowing how the shit that went down with Quinn sophomore year affected me, she does the same thing to save face. And the worst part? She had no fucking remorse. She just went on and on about how she deserved to have someone stable in her child's life and that it was my duty to be there for her when she is the one that cheated on me and kicked me to the curb!" He let out a strangled scream and kicked over a chair in frustration.

Sam sat there, silently, absorbing the magnitude of what he just heard. He knew Rachel had severe tunnel vision and was a bit entitled, but he never imagined that she'd try to hurt Finn this way; especially after all he'd been through. "What are you going to do?" he asked, quietly.

Finn swallowed hard before answering. "I told her that I never wanted to see her again, so she of course called me a selfish bastard and left for her hotel. And thanks for listening, I appreciate it, but I really want to stop talking about her and go have a drink."

Walking over to his friend, he sat down next to him and clamped a supportive hand on his shoulder. "This is a lot to handle, man. And she was wrong for ruining your night; this was supposed to be about Mike and Tina and us celebrating their love, not her issues. Why don't we just go to the bar in the rec room? I'll pour you a drink and we can just sit for a while until you're ready to chill with the others. Okay?"

Finn nodded and the pair headed to the recreation room, hearts heavy.


The moment she saw Sam and Finn enter the rec room, she knew something was wrong. Sure, they grabbed drinks and joined a game of pool with smiles on their faces, but there was something off about their demeanor. It worried her, but she felt like she shouldn't ask about it quite yet.

Instead, she played a game of poker with Santana, Brittany, Quinn, Blaine, Kurt, and Puck. It was an intense game, but mostly it was plain hilarious. Between Kurt's below the table "tickling" to distract Blaine and Quinn making sex eyes at Puck to distract him, she was fighting a losing battle to keep her poker face in place. Then, in the second biggest shock she'd had in the last 24 hours, Brittany bested the bunch raking in over two hundred dollars.

"I can't fucking believe this," Puck mumbled as Santana gave her girlfriend a victory kiss. "How? When? What?"

"If Kurt hadn't had his hand on my thigh the entire game…"

"Oh don't you start, Blaine Warbler. You weren't complaining a few minutes ago…"

"Oh shut up and go make out, you two. Britt-brat won fair and square, deal with it," Santana said, making a face at her friends before kissing a blushing Brittany's cheek.

"How'd you get so good at this, Britt?" Quinn asked as everyone at the table leaned in curiously.

"I don't know. I've only played one other time; it was a few years ago with some kids in design school." She shrugged, nonchalant.

The whole table sat back simultaneously, stunned into silence. "Ay dios mío," muttered Santana, "I've got a savant on my hands."

"No, that was last night!" chirped Brittany, cheerfully. They laughed as Santana blushed.

"Another round then?" Quinn began to shuffle the cards.

"You guys go ahead, I think I'm gonna grab a drink," Mercedes said, excusing herself and heading towards the bar. Sam was refreshing his drink, and he looked over to her with a small smile.

"What's up? Did you clean house at poker? You were always pretty good."

"No...actually Brittany won," she informed him, laughing as he choked on his drink. "She's actually something of a poker genius. Who knew?"

"Not me, that's for sure," he admitted, looking thoroughly amused.

Mercedes chuckled, pouring herself a glass of merlot as Sam watched her. She loved feeling his eyes on her; it made her tingle. Settling onto the stool next to his, she turned to him. "So," she began hesitantly, "I don't want to pry, but is everything alright? You and Finn didn't look so good when you came in, something seemed off."

She watched his jaw clench as he took a deep breath; that told her something was really wrong. "It's Finn and Rachel stuff – you know how she gets, but this time she really fucked up. I don't really know if he'd want me to talk about it just yet, you understand."

"Of course," she assured him, but her stomach tightened as some horrible scenarios ran through her mind. She made a mental note to check on him tomorrow. Shifting her focus back on Sam, she couldn't help but smile; he really was delicious in that suit.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, shifting her gaze back to her drink.

"Why, Miz Jones, were you checkin' me out?" he teased with a twang, eyes sparkling.

She sat up and tossed him a flirtatious look. "Perhaps."

He laughed – god she loved that laugh. The way it crinkled his nose and the corners of his eyes, and the sound of it: rich, deep, and smooth. Sam grabbed her free hand, running his thumb lovingly over her knuckles.

"I was hoping we could go somewhere and talk…"

"I'd like that," she replied, smiling up at him. She took him by the hand and led him out, ignoring the lewd noises Artie and Finn made at them from the couch.

Once they reached her room, Mercedes kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief. She loved the height they gave her, but they killed. Sam also got comfortable, loosening his tie and taking off his vest, jacket, and shoes. She let her hair down from the clip it was in and flopped back onto the bed, motioning for him to join her.

Shifting to face her, he leaned on his right elbow, propping his head up on his hand. "So," he smiled.

"So," she returned, mirroring his position.

"Lie to me."

A nostalgic smile curved Mercedes' lips. "You look terrible in that suit." She arched her eyebrow playfully. "Tell me the truth."

"After these past couple days, I'm kicking myself for being afraid to approach you…I feel like we've lost so much time."

Mercedes saw regret flash in his eyes and swallowed the lump that began to form in her throat. "Tell me a lie."

"You didn't take my breath away when you came down the aisle during the ceremony," he said with a goofy grin. "Be honest with me."

"It's scaring me how easily I'm letting my guard down around you; it's only been a day but I can't bring myself to feel awkward or put walls up," she said, quietly.

"Lie to me," he requested, just as softly.

She studied his face for a few seconds before gently brushing his hair off his forehead. "You don't have my heart," she replied, trailing her fingers down his rugged jawline. "Tell me the truth."

Grabbing it, he pressed a kiss to the palm and back of her hand. "You've had mine since the summer before our senior year of high school," he said against her fingers.

"Tell me a lie, " Mercedes whispered.

"I'm not thinking about what's under that pretty little dress…"

"Samuel Arthur Evans!"

"Just saying," he grinned. "Be honest with me."

She paused in thought for a moment. "I miss sleeping with you; like actually falling asleep together," she admitted, with a sheepish grin.

"You know, I always slept better when I slept with you. That was one of the hardest things about being apart from you for so long: learning to sleep alone every night."

Mercedes' heart skipped a beat – was he saying that he didn't have another girlfriend in all that time? I mean sure, she asked Tina or Mike if he was alright from time to time, but she figured that they never talked about his new girlfriend because they thought it would hurt her, not because he didn't have one. She filed this piece of information away to examine at another time; she didn't want to ruin the mood.

"I'd like it if you'd sleep over," she said, squeezing his hand. "But literally just sleep. I'm warning you, Evans."

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "No seducing you tonight, I understand.

Sam stripped down to his boxers and she threw on a loose tank over her underwear before throwing her hair up in a bun. They slid into bed and their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle: her back against his chest, his chin resting on her head, his arm resting in the dip of her waist. Neither Sam nor Mercedes dared to speak, listening to one another's breathing told them all they needed to know.


I had to end it on a fluffy-ish note, I've been overdosing y'all on the angst. And if you couldn't tell, I'm not the biggest Rachel Berry fan...I don't hate her, but I think it's just the hate I have for the Finchel storyline this season that's bleeding into the way I'm writing her character...ha.

I'd love it if you let me know what you thought! Reading your reactions/comments don't just make me extremely happy, they encourage me to write! So thank you :)

-Em