Thank you for your continued support. Here is my latest attempt at an update. Except for the flashback, this was written all in one go.
I do not own Glee or the characters.
Ten year old Mercedes Jones wasn't the average kid.
She didn't have video games at home, or a computer, but she had enough friends who did, to know the basics.
One of those friends was her bestie, Kurt Patrick Hummel.
He was the prettiest boy she knew and the only one who always wanted to play with girls.
His father Burt Hummel, was a teacher by profession, who taught English and Literature at the high school. His step-mum Carole was a librarian. She was well versed in books and the law.
Mercedes' other friends, Santana Lopez and Tina Cohen-Chang, were as different as night and day. Whilst Santana was a little Latina spitfire, Tina was shy and always quick to cry.
The four friends were like peas in a pod. They always stick together, no matter the situation. This time was no different.
Seeing that Mercedes and her mom wasn't allowed to go home, Burt and Carole took them in. They had called a doctor, who, incidentally was Tina's father and Mercedes' mom was given something to make her sleep.
Carole had gone to their house, under police supervision and was allowed to gather clothes and toiletries for them.
For the first time since the ordeal started, Mercedes was able to take a shower, put on her own clothes, tie her hair back and feel more like herself.
As she walked across the hall from the bathroom, she came to the room she and her mom were staying in. She opened it to check on her mom, and saw her three best friends sitting on the bed.
At first, she was a bit put off. Her mom was inconsolable earlier and she just couldn't handle that again, at least not yet.
"Don't wake her," she hissed.
When all three turned to look at her, she immediately felt bad for using such a sharp tone. They had all been crying, even Santana.
"We're just watching over her," Tina softly said.
Mercedes' heart plummeted to the bottom of her stomach, as the other two nodded in agreement.
These were her friends. They banded with her when Rachel Berry booed and mocked her, and told her she couldn't sing. They even banded with her when Finn Hudson refused to be her friend, because Rachel asked him not to.
"I'm sorry guys. I didn't mean to bite your head off. Come with me, if she wakes up, she'll start crying again."
All three did as told without arguing, which was a rare thing for Santana. A few minutes later, the four were hunkered down over a Nintendo in the Hummel's family room, playing Donkey Kong.
Later on, Santana and Tina said their goodbyes, and Kurt grudgingly went to the market with his dad, to get a few supplies.
Mrs. Jones was still out for the count, so Mercedes went to find Carole. She found her in the kitchen.
"Hi Miss Carole." At the sound of Mercedes' voice, Carole turned to her and smile.
"Hi honey, don't you look nice. How are you feeling?"
Ten year old Mercedes pondered her question for a beat. She inhaled and exhaled audibly.
"I'm feeling much better, thanks."
And she really did too. She still wished that it was all a bad dream she would wake from any moment, but in reality, she knew it wasn't.
"Very good. It'll get better. You just have to keep the faith."
Little Mercedes knew all about faith. During the time that she rescued Katie from that hell hole in the ground, her faith was tested and weakened, but she held firm.
"Thank you Miss Carole. Um...your house is so nice Miss Carole," she kindly said.
"Why thank you. I'm happy you think so. I want you to be very comfortable while you're staying here."
"How long will we be staying here, Miss Carole?"
"I'm not sure, maybe a few days, or for as long as you and your mom want. Are you okay with that darling?" Carole asked.
As much as Mercedes wanted to be home, she wished she didn't have to go back to that house ever again.
Knowing what was back in the deep woods and knowing what had lived in the same house, the same rooms and eaten at the same table, made her wish to be someplace else.
"I'm okay with that Miss Carole. Thank you." Carole Hummel was touched beyond words.
"Oh honey, you don't have to thank me. You are like family to us. Families take care of each other. It's just the way it is. Hey, have you ever made lemonade from scratch?"
Mercedes replied, "No ma'am."
"That's a shame. It's a treat. It takes a while, but it's worth it."
As Carole moved around the kitchen, Mercedes noticed she didn't wear an apron. She had a dishcloth tucked into the waist of her pants.
Her father didn't like her mom to wear pants. He believed that women were supposed to wear skirts and dresses.
As thoughts about her father filtered through her mind, she heard his voice in her head and her stomach twisted in knots. She turned her thoughts aside.
"Miss Carole, do you know what will happen next?" she asked. Carole turned to look at her, knowing exactly what she was asking about.
"I can't say for certain. The FBI's in charge now. From what I know about these cases, they gather evidence, take statements and your daddy will have a lawyer. Listen darling, I know it's hard, but I think it'd be for the best if you try not to worry about all of that, okay?"
Little Mercedes nodded her head.
She went quiet for a moment, and Carole could tell that something was weighing on her mind. She decided to be patient and let her speak when she was ready.
"I can't worry about daddy, but I have to take care of my mama." Tears stung the backs of Carole's eyes.
"Oh baby girl, somebody's got to take care of you too," she softly said. Mercedes cast her eyes downward. She said,
"Mama won't know what to do without daddy there to tell her." Carole pulled Mercedes into a warm hug.
"It's not for you to hold everyone else up. Come, let's finish our lemonade."
That day, she learned to make the lemonade from scratch and ate a grilled cheese sandwich. A combination that would forever become her comfort food of choice.
As her mother slept through the day, Mercedes for the first time in her life, begged for chores. Carole obliged her and allowed her to weed the little flower garden out back.
When she was done, she gave into fatigue, stretched out on the grass in the shade and slept.
Present day...
M.J felt tired.
She spent most of the night tossing and turning, until finally, she decided to get up and get busy. Who knew cleaning and rearranging rooms in the dead of the night could be so liberating.
The only thing is, when the adrenaline wears off, there is nothing but tiredness.
Currently, she is sitting in her room, clad in a towel, putting on her favorite body lotion, as she recalls the events that took place the night before.
After M.J and Sam had wished the Evans' goodnight, the two headed for his truck and got in.
It was just past ten o'clock, and Sam didn't want to part ways yet. He took a quick glance in her direction, seeing her with her head downcast and fidgeting with her nails.
He decided to breach the silence.
"Hey, is it okay if we take a different road, kind of longer, but much more interesting."
M.J's head snapped up. She was lost in her thoughts about the increasing feelings she was having for him and about him. That kiss they shared earlier, broke one of her barriers, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it.
She locked eyes with him for a second and quietly answered, "Sure."
They drove for a few more minutes in complete silence, until Sam couldn't take it any more. He decided to test out a theory.
"So, did you have a good time tonight?" Just as he had expected, she gave a one word reply.
"Yes." He continued nonetheless.
"And Stevie, I never saw him quite so talkative before. I think he has really taken to you."
He watched as she turned her head to the side, looking out through the glass window, just before she answered. "Oh?"
Persistent as ever, Sam Evans continued.
"Yes, I think he really has. So...how would you rate the dinner? One to ten." She hesitated for a beat, then answered.
"Ten."
"How about the conversations? One to five." A ghost of a smile appeared on her face.
"Five." Sam was relentless.
"The company...same as before."
"Five."
"The kiss...one to ten this time."
That stumped her. She wasn't looking for that. An emotional battle for dominance began within her. Nervousness attacked her also and she felt hot all of a sudden.
"Wh..what?" she stuttered out.
Sam saw the effect his question had on her. He saw what she was feeling clearly written on her face, but he also saw her trying to disguise it.
"I think you heard me M.J. The kiss, how would you rate it...one to ten, with ten being the highest."
Helplessness attacked her next. She began to aimlessly pull at the hem of her dress, delaying the inevitable. Sam remained patient. Finally, she responded.
"Ten."
A celebration went off in Sam's head, but he knows he has a long way to go...with her. A huge smile lit up his handsome features.
He idly reached across the console, took her hand away from her dress and laced their fingers. He felt her stiffen at first, but eventually she relaxed and a genuine smile appeared on her face.
The rest of the journey continued in silence, but a comfortable silence.
As they approached her home, Sam's heart sunk lower in his chest. He still didn't want to part ways yet.
He knew there was either something remotely bothering her or she needed to get something off her chest. Either way, he wasn't expecting it to be favorable.
He came to a stop in front of the house, but instead of getting out to help her from the truck, he held the clasp of the seatbelt.
M.J was taken aback. She locked eyes with him and held his gaze.
"Sam, what are you doing? We're here." He replied,
"I know where we are...and...I'm not about to do anything crazy. Trust me."
M.J turned as much as she could in her seat, to look at him.
"Then why do you have the buckle holding?" A serious Sam answered.
"I get the feeling that you have something to say to me. There's a lot of tension going on here. I can feel it."
Deflecting, M.J said, "I don't know what you are talking about. Now, can you please let me out?"
"No, not until you say what you have to say. I'm all ears."
M.J was getting annoyed. She tried to pry his long fingers off the buckle, but she wasn't strong enough.
"Sam, stop playing and let me out."
Sam nodded his head from side to side and stood his ground. She tried at his hand again, but to no avail.
"Tripping! You're straight up tripping. Let me out Sam."
Sam could sense that she was getting angry. He could care less. She was adamant and her words more forceful.
"I'm not tripping M.J, and no, I won't let you out. Not until you say what you have to say. Now spill."
A stubborn M.J crossed her arms over her chest and stared incredulously at him.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked. Sam replied.
"Nothing is wrong with me. I just want you to open up to me. Is that so hard?"
M.J felt as though she could slap the white off of him. She rolled her eyes, shook her head and almost shouted at him.
"I don't know what you want me to say."
Sam almost let go of the buckle, seeing the nervous look on her face. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her, everything will work out, if she just let go and let him in.
"I want you to tell me what is going on inside that head of yours. I want you to tell me, what you're feeling, after our kiss...which wasn't the average kiss. I want you to tell me, that I didn't imagine us making some type of headway tonight and I want you to tell me, how you feel about me."
M.J was well and truly stumped, not only that, she was backed into a corner and she felt trapped.
Angrily, she spewed out the first words that came to mind.
"Hold up. Who the hell do you think you are? My thoughts are private. I don't have to tell you one damn thing, Sam Evans."
Sam held strong. He rebutted.
"Hey, first of all, I'm me, Sam Evans. I've never professed to be anyone else before. Secondly, you're right. You don't have to tell me anything, but you know what? That's just a way to stall or deny whatever you are feeling. I can see it M.J, I may be blonde, but I ain't dumb."
M.J stared him down, but Sam didn't waiver. He could see her mentally building that brick wall, but he wasn't worried. He intends to break everyone of those walls down and ground them into dust.
"And what is it that you see?" she asked. Sam thought for a few seconds, as he wisely chose his words.
"I see a beautiful woman who is scared to let anyone in, especially anyone that is male. I see a woman torn over her beliefs and the new feelings that has taken root in her. I see a woman, a strong woman, a passionate woman, who...if she just lets go, could be so happy, with a guy who is head over heels in love with her."
A sharp intake and an audible exhale, told Sam that he had hit the nail right on the head.
He watched her look away, then duck her head, allowing his words to sink in.
For the first time since he's met her, he feels a shift in the weight on his shoulder. It's still there, but it feels much lighter.
He didn't say anything else. He sat for a few minutes more and when she didn't say anything, he exited his truck, went around to her side and opened the door.
M.J was rendered speechless and she remained that way. What could she say to that? She had no words.
She didn't even realize that he had gotten out of the truck, until she felt him reach over her and undo the seatbelt. She held his gaze as he offered her his hand and helped her from the truck.
He continued to hold her hand as he escorted her to the door.
On reaching there, he leaned in, softly kissed her cheek and wished her goodnight. Ever the gentleman, he waited until she got in and locked the door, before he drove off.
A robotic M.J slowly walked to her room and flopped onto her bed. There will be no sleep for her tonight. 'In the morning, things will be clearer. I will call my 'family' and speak to them,' she thought to herself.
She is yet to make that call.
Presently, she has finished her beauty regime, and started looking through her drawers for a bra and underwear.
Just as she found them, she heard a knock on her door, so she started looking for something to put on.
Hearing the persistent knock, she decided to throw caution to the wind and find out who was there. She quietly walked downstairs, towards the door and asked,
"Who's there?" Just as quietly, the voice said,
"It's Sam."
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
She looked down at herself and softly swore, bare feet and still only clad in a towel.
Her bra and underwear, were currently lying exactly where she left them, on top of the chest of drawers.
She debated running back upstairs and throwing on something quickly, anything, but she knew he had heard her in close proximity.
She decided to unlock the door, let him in and if she could, make a dash to put on her clothes.
As soon as Sam was on the inside and saw what she was wearing, his green eyes darkened.
He had come to lay all of his cards on the table, but seeing the object of his affection looking the way she did, his thoughts turned carnal. His darkened gaze rooted her to the spot and she couldn't move.
He tried to focus on what he had to say to her and he started out well.
"Um...I wanted to talk about last night. I didn't mean to overwhelm you like that..."
At this point, his train of thought completely derailed. "Damn it M.J!" he said, as he grabbed her and attached his mouth to hers.
If M.J was surprised, she didn't show it, she wrapped her arms around his torso and willingly kissed him back.
Poor Sam. He knew he was in trouble. The minute he saw her, looking and smelling as delicious as she did, his body reacted.
He felt her move her arms up and around his shoulders, as she rose on her toes, deepening the kiss further.
His hands at this point, took on a life of their own, grabbing and bunching the towel on her glorious behind. When the towel loosened, he immediately returned to his senses, knowing that if he didn't, things would get seriously out of control.
He slowly pulled back, looking deep into her now darkened eyes and softly said,
"For your sake and my sanity, please go upstairs and put some clothes on."
With a sweet lingering peck to her lips, he pulled her towel closed, all the while maintaining eye contact, turned her around and playfully slapped her on the butt.
She looked back at him with a genuine smile on her face and noticed the tent in his pants. She quickly turned on her feet and headed upstairs.
The flashback at the beginning was an attempt to show how close M.J, Santana, Kurt and Tina was from early on. Also to keep showing what happened as time went on. I sincerely hope this was good enough.
