A/N: Sooooooo…after a year and a half of waiting—and I truly apologize for this long overdue chapter—here's an update for all you wonderful people! You guys have been incredibly patient, and I can't begin to thank you enough for the constant support and motivation!
Enjoy!
xXx
CeruleanBlues
The Housemate Agreement
Chapter 10
He was prematurely awakened at the crack of dawn, startled by the cacophony of unidentified banging sounds happening right outside his door. Sam rolled over on his stomach and groaned as he impaled the pillow into his head to drown out the problem.
It neither ceased in volume nor decreased in nuisance.
What the fuck is going on?
Taking a peek at the alarm clock on his bedside table, he spat out a string of rich profanities and shot out of bed, because seriously, he treasured every second of sleep he could afford. Whatever—or whomever—was causing such distress to his being had better be covered with sufficient insurance. Eyelids still barely opened, Sam padded out into the hallway and hopped down the flight of stairs, blinking against the daylight streaming into the living room to find his ever-beloved roommate—sarcasm involved—making a fuss in the kitchen.
"What the hell are you doing?"
She whipped her head around, a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other, and for reasons lost to him; an uncharacteristically cheerful smile was dancing upon her gloss-lathered lips. It was weird all the same, for he didn't think he'd ever seen her with anything but a frown on her otherwise gorgeous face.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Her falsely sugarcoated words insinuated that she wasn't at all apologetic.
"Don't pretend like it wasn't on purpose," he growled.
From where he stood leaning against the center island, Sam noticed how her sheer white blouse cascaded flawlessly down her body, disappearing into the waistband of her black pencil skirt. The material clung on to her every curve, leaving little to his wandering imagination and igniting episodes from his wildest fantasies.
"I'm not liable because you woke up on the wrong side of bed, Sam," she shot back, scooping the scrambled eggs onto a plate. "I was making breakfast."
"Are you sure? Because it sounded like a bomb explosion."
"If you're going to just stand there and insult me all day, I'd rather you save your breath and resume your obnoxiously loud snoring—"
"What is that?"
Somewhere in the midst of tuning out her incessant babbling, Sam had noticed a brand new fixture on the kitchen counter, sitting on the surface as though mocking him with its sleek design and gleaming red coating. He glared accusingly at the appliance for a moment before diverting his discontent over to the other blonde in the room.
"My coffee maker." There was a mischievous glint—an equivalent to that of a scheming cat—in her hazel eyes, and a conniving smirk to match. Strategically, she held her cup up to her lips, rubbing it in with her steaming beverage.
"Where did you get it?"
She shrugged those delicate shoulders of hers in nonchalance. "It was a house warming gift from Brittany."
Did she just say 'house warming'?
"I didn't see it yesterday," he deadpanned, eyeing the machine suspiciously.
"I had it in my room."
Yeah, because a freaking coffee maker belongs in the one place a person uses to sleep.
Well, not that it mattered, anyway. "Whatever, I can use some caffeine right about now."
Reaching into the cupboard for a mug, he positioned it beneath the dispenser and was about to hit on the button, when Quinn intercepted and slid in between him and a satisfactory coffee fix.
"Nuh-uh," she shook her head.
He furrowed his brows in confusions. "What?"
She stood defiantly in front of her property, arms akimbo, and if he weren't so preoccupied with her attitude, he would've enjoyed how the slight tilt of her head made her neck that much more alluring with her hair pulled up in a ponytail. "This is my coffee machine. Ask me nicely."
"Or else?"
"Your foul meter can start clicking at one."
This woman was a Nazi—or had been one in her previous lifetime—because surely as hell she didn't think that he was going to adhere to her uptight ways to dictate his form of courtesy. He was a full-grown man, for fuck's sake, not some three-year-old child, and he'd be damned if he was going to give her such a satisfaction—not even in those jaw-dropping black high heels.
"Well in that case," he began, faux sweetness dripping in his voice. "No, thank you. I'll just go get my caffeine fix somewhere else."
Shrugging her shoulders while trying not to appear too smug about it, she took another languid sip of her coffee. "Suit yourself," she chirped, and then perched herself on a kitchen stool to eat her breakfast while she read some kind of printed document.
He spotted a box of cereal—one of those bland high-fibered cornflakes—and decided he wasn't even in the mood to get picky over her sugarless choices. With the lack of caffeine in his veins, he was lucky to even be functioning properly. Begrudgingly, he fixed a bowl for himself before padding over to the living room to watch a morning cartoon, not really caring what she thought of it.
"Don't you have a job to go to?" she asked.
On the television screen, a yellow sponge was running circles around a pink starfish, nasally declaring that he was ready, but it was Quinn's voice that seemed to grate on his nerves like nails against a blackboard.
"Why do you care?" he replied through a mouthful of cereal, his eyes still glued to the programme.
"It is a precautionary measure to make sure that you stay employed enough to fulfill your side of this arrangement," she said calmly, albeit with a hint of condescendence. "I would very much appreciate not being thrown out of the streets because of your incompetence."
He craned his neck around to face her then. "I hate to break it to you, but this so-called 'incompetence' that you're referring to is the only option you have available, so I would tone down on the snarkiness if I were you."
"Whatever," she huffed. "I have better things to do than be the subject of your entertainment. I'm sure Spongebob there could satisfy you just fine."
The moment she had her back turned, he did the unthinkable and stuck his tongue out. Damn that woman and her uncanny ability to reduce him into a childish idiot. She was an infuriating minx, that much was clear, and apparently getting a rise out of him was her newfound hobby. Still, he blamed that tight skirt and how scrumptious she looked in that whole corporate office ensemble.
"Oh, and please don't forget to sweep and mop the entire apartment. That's an every day thing, by the way," she casually reminded him. "And you're on laundry duty too, and just so you know, I have a hamper ready by the door. Shouldn't be too difficult, right?"
"Wait, what?" he sputtered. "What are you talking about? Since when do I have to do laundry for the both of us?"
She sighed, propping a fist on the side of her hip. "Clause twenty-two," she began mechanically, as though reciting a boring lecture. "Always adhere to the roster. I thought you've read the agreement."
I'm sorry, did you mean that fucking encyclopedia?
He bit his tongue to prevent those thoughts from unintentionally spewing out of his mouth. "Yeah, but don't I get a say in this?"
Jutting her chin out in defiance, she scoffed. "No, you don't. I believe that as a primary tenant of the apartment, I get to decide the distribution of chores."
"You want me to sweep and mop the floor every day?"
"Do you have a problem with that?" she arched an eyebrow pointedly, almost daring him to argue his way out of this.
Determined not to show how much he desperately wanted to stab her with a pair of chopsticks, he plastered on his best winning smile.
"Not at all."
"Good then," she beamed triumphantly. "Glad we agree on something."
He only snorted in response.
"Oh, shoots!"
Long live the 'no swearing' policy.
Averting his attention from the screen once again, Sam watched—amused—as Quinn scrambled around to locate something illusive, mumbling unintelligibly under her breath. Flustered, and slightly panicked, she disappeared into her bedroom, where the tumult continued in heightened streams. When curiosity got the better of him, Sam casually sauntered over to check out what the fuss was all about.
"What's up with you?" he asked, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe.
Her hazel eyes snapped up to meet his. "I need to use your phone."
Oh, this is going to be good.
"Why?"
"Because you murdered mine, that's why," she snapped back, storming up to him. A few strands of hair escaped the tight hold of her scrunchie and fell over her forehead, looking so inviting that he had to resist the urge to push them away.
"Okay, just so I'm making it clear to you, your phone was a disaster waiting to happen. I was doing you a favor, so you're welcome."
"And should I just charge a new one to your credit card?"
He quirked an eyebrow. "I'd be nicer if I were you, especially since you need something from me," he informed her objectively, pointing a spoon in her direction. The lava was about to blow, he could tell, but she clearly was asking for a taste of her own medicine.
"Look, I don't have time for this, Sam," she ventured dangerously into his personal space. "I'm going to be late for my first day and destroy my career if I don't call a friend immediately."
His gaze fell on her luscious lips. "Then I suggest you consider that carefully the next time you decide to be difficult—"
"I'm not being difficult. I just need to use your phone for thirty seconds or so."
"Ask me nicely."
"Over my dead body."
He shrugged, and then made to turn back towards the living room. "Suit yourself," he called over his shoulder, mimicking her earlier words.
"Jerk."
"Sorry, did I just hear you say a bad word?" he taunted.
She blinked for a quick second before straightening her posture to a rigid pole. "No, I didn't. I said 'twerk', you know, that thing people are doing nowadays," she retorted before slamming the door in his face.
The most interesting thing to happen during his shift in the book café was the dude sitting in the corner who kept repeating the same monologue over and over again. It had to be Shakespeare or another because his scant knowledge of English Literature was practically non-existent, not to mention the fact that he once slept through the entire production of Hamlet in high school.
"He definitely needs some new material," Sam murmured while drying the mug in his hands with a dishtowel.
Burt glanced up from working the register and chuckled. "Believe it or not, he's a regular during those Open Mike sessions."
"Does he have a name?"
"Biff something," the older man answered with a shrug. "I don't know. His parents had an apple farm, but he's trying to make a name for himself as an actor."
"Seriously?"
Sam eyed the idiot critically; studying everything from the cut of his immaculately styled chestnut-colored hair, to that preppy blue vest and blazer, those tailored trousers and spotless leather shoes, and snickered. Everything about Biff screamed of old money, of a fortunate childhood with mommy and daddy at the Hamptons, of yacht parties and private jets, and it was everything Sam loathed about privileged douchebags who were just full of themselves.
"He seriously needs some new material," Sam commented after Biff had launched into another round of reciting the same monologue. "I'm sure there's more to the story than music being the food of love."
"I guess we'll have to wait and see during the next session," Burt winked.
"Can hardly wait."
"So how's your first day been so far?"
Quinn collapsed down on the floor next to Mike with a weary pout on her lips. A hundred different adjectives came to mind where that was concerned, and after a really, really long day in the office, she could use a good vent.
"Let's see…" she trailed off, gazing up at nothing in particular as she sifted through eventful tropes that wouldn't cause to add to the bitterness that was already on her tongue.
"Ed gave me an orientation of the company, and then I was tasked to highlight a couple of dates and sort out a few files, made sure a couple of paperwork were signed by the managing partner—" Quinn paused to catch her breath, drumming her fingers against the side of her water bottle. "Help the paralegal locate a clause that was non-existent, to which she then pointed out my incompetence because apparently 'first day on the job' didn't apply to her, and then I spilled Ed's coffee all over the only expensive shoes I own, but luckily his executive assistant had an extra pair in her drawer, so I wouldn't look like an idiot during a client's deposition."
He was about to chime in when she held her hand up to silence him.
"Oh, but wait; there's more," she ranted on as she swiped a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "Margaret from Human Resources wanted a copy of my transcripts, which, of course could only be obtained upon request from the dean's office. So when I called the school up, they told me that they needed three working days to process a piece of paper; seriously. I told Margaret about it and she flipped as though it was the end of the world and went on about hiring policies and company policies, and that I'm training to be a lawyer for God's sake—"
"Okay, slow down," Mike eventually cut in, reaching to rub soothing circles on her back. "Slow down and breathe, alright? You're going to work yourself up a heart attack."
She heaved a sigh. "As far as 'first day's go, it sucked balls."
Chuckling affectionately down at her, he slid an arm across her shoulders and tugged her closer to his. "It'll get better," he promised, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.
"I hope so," she grumbled. "Thank you for taking the liberty of e-mailing the address to me and attaching a map for reference, by the way. Was really handy."
"Seriously, you need to get a new phone."
"Are you sponsoring?" she quipped with an arched eyebrow.
"Yeah, you wish."
Frowning, she lightly elbowed him in his ribs. "You're useless. Sometimes I wonder why I keep you around."
He grinned roguishly. "Because you can't resist my stunningly good looks and my immeasurable charm."
She sighed dramatically, feigning a swoon. "Once upon a time."
"Anyway, listen, I have some great news for you."
With a groan, Quinn rose to her feet. "The last time someone said that to me, I ended up stuck with an ass-hat for a housemate, so that line has kind of lost its novelty."
Mike caught her wrist, tugging her back down to the floor. "Well, this is different," he said, a smile spreading across his lips, a twinkle in his eyes. Effortlessly, he lifted her onto his lap, trapping her in his arms. "Shelby Corcoran called earlier."
She felt her mouth go dry and her heart speed up. "She did?"
He nodded. "Beth has a school musical coming up and she has volunteered to direct it. She wants you to help choreograph the dance numbers." At her stunned reaction, he continued. "It's not a huge thing, more like a fundraiser for the school, and you wouldn't be paid much for it but—"
"Yes!" she squealed in delight. "Fuck, yes!"
"Yes?"
Quinn squirmed in his hold to grab onto the front of his shirt. "You told her 'yes', right?"
"Well, you could just call her up yourself—"
She shot out of the studio before he could finish what he had wanted to say.
Somehow or another, the wonderful news had made its way to Rachel, who wasted no time leaving yet another bubbling voicemail on the studio's answering machine. It was beyond embarrassing, especially since nobody else needed to know that she was invited to attend a gig that she wasn't even interested in as a means of celebration. In fact, she had a whole line-up planned for the evening without Sam in the apartment—some girlie things that she reckoned were long overdue.
There's an unopened box of bath salts calling out for me.
"Sounds like you have some big plans tonight," Mike snickered, drying his damp hair with a towel.
She scrunched her nose up, her face pinched in annoyance. "You're coming with me; you know that, right?"
His smirk fell flat. "Why? I mean, I have some important stuff that I have to do and—"
"I wouldn't consider watching reruns on TV as important," she deadpanned. "I need you there, Mike."
He groaned. "No you don't. Rachel's going to be there."
Quinn rolled her eyes, growing agitated and not understanding why her best friend couldn't just grant her this one simple favor. "Yeah, but Rachel is a groupie."
His snort of laughter was so abrupt; he almost choked on his spit.
"Oh, God. Please don't tell her I said that," she mumbled, jabbing the heel of her hand over her eyes. "I don't think I want to listen to an elaborate speech about women stereotypes. That one unfortunate time in high school was enough."
Mike was still recovering from his spontaneous burst of humor, coughing and wheezing to catch his breath. "I still can't—groupie—that's—that's just—"
He was starting to grate on her nerves now, and that wouldn't do. She'd had enough of dealing with abhorrent gits the entire day; just this once, she needed a compliant companion.
Is that too much to ask for?
"Okay, you know what, never mind," she scowled, reaching for her backpack. "I'll just ask Ryder to accompany me, then."
"Ryder?"
She shrugged noncommittally, exercising her acting chops as best as possible to appear nonchalant. "Ryder Flynn, you know him. He works at that pastry shop down the street—really cute too, by the way—and he's been asking me out for the longest time—"
"But he's just a kid," Mike remarked.
"He's a year younger than the both of us, actually, and why do you care, anyway?"
He paused, and she watched in satisfaction as realization dawned on his features that he had been cleverly played. Appalled by her methods of manipulation, he glared at her a good deal before caving in with a conceding throw of his hands.
"Alright, alright, fine. Let's go."
He was going mental, certain that he would lose his shit in the next eight minutes or so if the rest of his incompetent band mates didn't pull themselves together and get things done right. The café was already packed and buzzing with people, but half an hour before show time, they were still setting up the equipment; it was unacceptable.
"Can somebody please find Puckerman?" he snapped, tightening the knob on the microphone stand. "He better not be fucking sleeping in the toilet or so help me God—"
"I'm on it," Finn volunteered, hurrying off.
A shrill noise pierced through the air, prompting him to wince in pain. Several patrons seated nearer to the amplifier grimaced in protest as Artie apologized profusely. Sam exhaled a long breath of air, puffing his cheeks out and carding his fingers through his hair, adding to the disarray that was already there. Over at the corner, Rory was otherwise occupied untangling a set of cables. The door jingled to signal the arrival of another customer, and then he was blindsided by a mop of dark brown hair, pleated skirt and a garish grin.
"Hi, Sam!"
He blinked, momentarily disoriented by the sheer brightness of her teeth. "Hi, Rachel. Glad you could make it. Finn said that you might be running late."
"Shelby was in a good mood," she explained chirpily. "Speaking of Finn, where is that fiancé of mine?"
No sooner had the question escape her mouth did said betrothed appear, utterly winded and flushed crimson. "I can't find him," he wheezed, swallowing gulps of oxygen.
"Hi, sweetheart," Rachel greeted blithely, completely oblivious to the awry situation as she stood on her tiptoes to drop a chaste peck to the drummer's cheek.
"You made it!" Finn exclaimed, all traces of distress washed away from his features. Reaching down, he enveloped the petite brunette in his meaty arms. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Sam couldn't hold back from rolling his eyes. "Alright, that's very sweet, but in case you've forgotten, Finn, we're in the middle of a crisis, so if it's not too much trouble, could the both of you please limit your flirting till after we're done here?"
"You're a fucking asshole, Sam," Finn muttered.
"Crisis?" Rachel parroted in concern. "What's wrong?"
"Puck's missing," Sam reiterated, not really sure what the purpose of repeating himself was. "We're on in fifteen and we haven't even done sound check. I don't suppose you know where he is, do you?"
For a Broadway actress, Rachel was a terrible liar sometimes.
"Rachel—"
At Finn's stern tone, she crumbled. "He and Santana are having sex in the back of her car."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sam flared up, startling a couple at a nearby table. "Honestly, those two fucking idiots. I swear I'm going to—"
"Quinn!" Rachel squealed all of a sudden, waving animatedly over his shoulder.
The mere mention of his housemate's name sent a fresh pit of fire broiling in the darkest depths of his patience. Instinctively, he felt the muscles between his shoulder blades tense, wondering what the hell that blonde pain in the neck was doing there. He hadn't invited her, he was most certain of that; definitely not after all those pesky chores he had to complete. Cursing his rotten luck, Sam squeezed his eyes shut to keep his temper in check.
"Glad you could make it!"
Of course, Rachel. After shooting an accusatory glare her way—one that she was unfortunately oblivious to—he reluctantly spun around to face the beauty of a wench.
Just kill me now.
"Quinn," he acknowledged pleasantly, even as he stared daggers into her stunning hazel eyes.
She graced him with a tight smile. "Sam."
"Didn't know you were going to be here. I would've laid out a couple of bear traps."
The civility was exhausting.
"Mike, Rachel and I are celebrating tonight," she sniffed haughtily, and only then did he notice the Asian dude, whom, in his own opinion, was standing way too close to her. Sam seized him up, analyzing the other guy's level of threat. "If you must know. Frankly, I would've picked a better location to spend my evening besides listening to mediocre entertainment, but Rachel insisted, and Finn is a friend, so I've decided to lend my support."
"That's really nice of you, Quinn—"
"Can we skip the unnecessary pleasantries for later?" Sam interrupted his bandmate, the irritation seeping into his skin once again. "We have a gig to do, and we can't do it if we don't get all our stuff set up. Finn, could you go fetch Puck before they begin round three or four? And Rachel, if you would so kindly get out of our way, it would be greatly appreciated."
"Rude, much," Quinn scoffed and sauntered off.
For a lovely moment, he watched the sway of her hips, noticing how that particular pair of skinny jeans enhanced the gentle swell of her rear. Her movements were hypnotic, almost obnoxiously so, and if he didn't loathe her so damn much, he might have enjoyed the view a little bit more.
Such a shame.
"Dude, are you checking her out?"
Finn jolted Sam out of his blatant ogling with a slap to his back.
"Not if she was the last living person on the entire planet."
"They're actually pretty good," Mike commented, nodding along to the music.
Up on the makeshift stage, Four Peas in a Pod were jamming enthusiastically, working the crowd in their favor as Sam belted out covers of eighties rock classics. The place was rocking, people actually seemed like they were rather enjoying themselves, and in all honesty, the only down side to the place was its lack of alcohol.
"They're okay," she shrugged half-heartedly.
"Okay?" Rachel exclaimed in slight horror, her inner fangirl shining through. "They're amazing! I don't understand why the record label thought they weren't ready."
"Seriously, though, Rach," Quinn scoffed. "Can you seriously picture Finn as a rock star?"
The brunette gave a wistful sigh. "I have him put on a pair of leather pants every night. It's a real turn on."
Mike looked traumatized for life, and Quinn really didn't need that mental image.
She was up to her third cup of coffee—the caffeine having no effect on her whatsoever—and she felt the beginnings of a headache throbbing in the back of her skull as Finn continued pounding on his drums. A guitar rift screeched in her ears, and as they launched into the chorus, she'd had about enough. Draining the last remains of her beverage, she made a move to leave, only to catch Sam's eye as he concluded the song, winking at her when he struck the final chord. There was a challenge in that trademark smirk of his, a silent dare that mocked at her self-restraints because he seemed to know exactly how his actions were affecting her.
Her temper flared, and in retaliation, she plunked her ass back on the chair, defiantly folding her arms across her chest to state a point. Lips set in a pout, she glowered right back.
"Insufferable prat."
"Did you say something, Quinn?" Mike asked, taking a forkful of his brownie.
"I'm just figuring out how many other ways I can kill Sam Evans with my bare hands, preferably in his sleep," she growled. "God, he's so full of himself too."
Rachel tilted her head, suddenly interested now that the topic had shifted into something juicier. "What did he think of your ingenious distribution of chores?"
Leaning back in her seat, Quinn rubbed the ache between her eyes. "Didn't work as well as I would've liked," she grumbled, feeling like a petulant child. "I half expected him to blow his top off but he barely put up a fight."
"Smart dude," Mike snorted. "Playing you at your own game."
"Whose side are you on, anyway?"
He only chuckled in response, reaching out to soothe her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be like that, gorgeous."
She swatted his hand away. "Ass kisser."
"Oh, my God, Quinn," Rachel blurted out all of a sudden, clutching onto her wrist in a vice-like grip. "Don't look now, but I'm sure that the guy over by the corner has been staring at you for the past half an hour."
"What guy—"
"I said don't look."
Mike did the honors instead. "You mean Mr. Abercrombie & Fitch over there?"
Quinn's eyes bugged out of her head. "What?"
"Code red, Q, he's coming over," Mike informed her with a twinkle of amusement. "In three, two—"
She heard the clearing of a throat as a shadow fell upon her.
"Hi."
He had a smooth tenor, and a richness in his voice that same with practiced theatre projection, and she actually wondered if Rachel knew him at all. His trousers were starched and pressed to perfection in an awful shade of beige, not a wrinkle in sight, and she suppose she could excuse the hideous blue woolen vest when all it did was bring out the hues in his smoldering cerulean eyes.
Oh, wow.
"Hi," she dumbly replied, struck by how incredibly handsome he was.
"I'm Biff McIntosh," he beamed, flashing his pearly whites as he extended his hand out, exuding an impressive amount of confidence that she surprisingly found attractive.
"Quinn Fabray."
"Lovely name," he drawled. "May I buy you a cup of coffee?"
She grinned, enjoying his bold ways. "Believe it or not, I'm on my third round of caffeine. Anymore and I'd be bouncing off the walls tonight."
"Dinner then? Tomorrow?"
"Sure. It's a date."
A/N: So there it is, and of course, the appearance of Biff McIntosh. He was such a douchebag in the 100th episode, but you can't deny that Chace Crawford is smoking hot. I'm starting to get the gears rolling again, get the hang of the style of writing for this story, so it should be smooth-sailing from here on! A huge thank you for those of you who have patiently waited for months for an update, and I truly hope that you're not disappointed. Cheers!
Hugs and puppies all around: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it, and yeah, I love the sexual tension that's going on between Sam and Quinn because it's going to cause some really interesting dynamics between the characters. Hope you've enjoyed this update! Cheers!
OhHeyAl: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review, and I know that this update is long overdue, but I hope I hadn't lost you here! Thank you for being so patient, too! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Cheers!
Tomorrow will be kinder: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Hope you've enjoyed this update!
Carcar234: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! LOL! I love writing the sexual tension between Sam and Quin, and I'm glad you liked it! Cheers!
Xvzgirl: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! Cheers!
Guest: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! Apologies for the long wait! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter!
RJRRAA: Hi there! As always, you've been such a wonderful motivation to my stories! Thank you so much for reading and constantly leaving a lovely review! I really appreciate it, and I really apologize for the incredibly long wait for this story! Hope you've enjoyed this update! Cheers!
Alli2345: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! Apologies for the long wait! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Cheers!
Quams: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a wonderful review! I'm flattered, and I really appreciate it! LOL! I apologize immensely for the long wait! I'm glad you're enjoying all the sexual tension brewing between Sam and Quinn. They're such fun to write and explore, and I'm glad you liked how I portray their characters. After all, it is an AU fic, so I thought I'd play around with them a bit more. Oh yes, I like how you point out the fact that they really want to just jump each others' bones, and rest assured it'll happen :P Hope you've enjoyed this update! Cheers!
Dosqueen67: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and I'm so sorry for the long wait! I really appreciate you leaving a review for the previous chapter! I'm glad that you liked the back and forth banter going on with Sam and Quinn. Seriously, those parts were fun to write! LOL! I totally deserved those three fouls you gave me, but rest assured, you wouldn't have to wait another year for the next chapter! It's full-speed ahead from now on! Cheers!
Shannonpuckerman: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!
Bytheseashore: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! I really appreciate it, and I truly apologize for the incredibly long wait, but I'm glad that you understand the struggles of loving a story too much and wanting to write the best for it! LOL! I love the sexual tension between Sam and Quinn; God, that was just so much fun to write, especially seeing these two characters pushing the boundaries while still teetering on the edge. Hope you've enjoyed this update! Cheers!
Eternal-love59: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a lovely review! I'm glad you liked the previous chapter, and that you've enjoyed the sexual tension going on between Sam and Quinn! I had so much fun writing that, and their competitive nature just made everything so hilarious! They basically wrote themselves sometimes, but I'm so sorry you had to wait for so long for this update. Hope you've enjoyed it! Cheers!
Thefchord: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it, and I deeply apologize for the incredibly long wait. A year is totally not acceptable, I know, but I hope this update sees you well! Well, honestly, it hadn't occurred to me what song Sam was composing, but I like your idea! I'll be sure to incorporate that in somewhere :P Cheers!
Mandorac: Hi there! Oh, my God, it's been way too long; I've missed you! Thank you so much for reading and leaving such a long and lovely review! I totally understand your situation, being busy and all. I really apologize for the long wait, and I can't thank you enough for all the encouragement and motivations you've given me since the very start! I'm glad that you liked those scenes with Sam and Quinn! They're such fun to explore, and I just recently compiled a list of possibilities between them; it's going to be insane! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Can't wait to hear from you! Cheers!
FabrevansFTW: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a nice, long review! I really appreciate it! Again, I'm so sorry for the long wait; a year is insane, and there's really no excuse for that. Truly, I do miss watching Fabrevans on screen too, and it's just unfortunate how they took both characters of Sam and Quinn and made something else out of them. That's what fanfics are for, right? Hope you've enjoyed this update! Cheers!
SamEvans17: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and thank you so much for patiently waiting, and supporting me in my other stories as well! I'm really sorry for the overdue update, and I really hope you're not disappointed by this chapter! Cheers!
Sara: Hi! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Hope you've enjoyed the update!
OracleOfFanfiction: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review, and I truly apologize for the incredibly long wait! Don't worry, no begging needed, this story is still very much alive, and I can promise you that it's full-speed ahead from here on! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Cheers!