(shout out to Ashley, aka nerd4music for helping me get through this chapter! Enjoy everyone!)

-March-

"Another late night, Miss Cedes?"

Mercedes' gaze looked beyond her desk computer to her open door where Sam was now standing. She had a pen in her mouth but pulled it out as she stared, and then shook her head. "Yes, Mr. Evans." It had been two nights since Sam's knee episode, and yesterday she'd left the office early for dinner plans with Puck and Quinn. They talked over her pending divorce papers, the upcoming anniversary party, and a week-long vacation that Puck and Quinn were planning for themselves. Somehow, the subject of Sam had come up—at Mercedes' own accidental doing; she didn't know where they stood, but since he hadn't come to see her, she assumed he may have been upset with her for intervening with his health insurance status.

She glanced up long enough to catch his reaction to her reversion to formal names, just as he'd been doing to her for the past week, but he merely pulled his work gloves off and left them on his cleaning cart behind him. Mercedes watched him approach her for only a moment before she turned her attention back to the computer screen. "Not today, Mr. Evans. I really want to get this finished up before I go."

"This'll only take a minute. I wanted to apologize for how I acted towards you the other night and last week. And cut it out with the 'Mr. Evans' stuff."

She stubbornly kept her eyes on her computer and her voice in a brusque, professional tone, "It's fine. You didn't say anything that wasn't true and I know you meant it."

"Mercedes."

She stopped typing and then looked up at him, "What?"

For a split second she regretted tearing her gaze off her computer screen to look into those sincere, yet penetrating eyes. Damn him, she thought.

"I'm sorry. Really. My apology's way overdue and whether I was right or not, I shouldn't have come down on you so harshly."

She pursed her lips and swallowed before answering. "I forgive you…Sam." A strange tingle prickled down her neck when she spoke his first name but she tried to ignore it. "I meant what I just said too."

When she caught herself gazing at him for what felt like too long, she forced her eyes back to her monitor.

"And I also wanted to thank you for what you did for Dani and me last night. I know I didn't seem that grateful but…I am."

"Your welcome," she replied, glancing at him for only a moment when he stepped a bit closer, making his way around her desk. Despite the fact that he was talking to her again and it relieved her, he continued to give her an inexplicable nervous flutter in her stomach.

"What are you working on?" he asked in a low tone.

She tried hard to keep her eyes on her screen, "My note for the April issue."

"How do you and Mr. Puckerman come up with different things to say at the end of each issue?"

"Because each issue is different so we're able to reflect on them differently."

Sam stepped a bit closer to her desk, and Mercedes' heart reacted by thumping a bit faster yet outwardly she bore a cold, professional expression. She did her best to control her breathing as he leaned over to look at her screen. Why the hell does he have to smell so good? She angrily wondered. He probably wouldn't smell this fresh and desirable if weren't for the fact that he always started his work at the top floor—her office.

"Excuse you."

Instantly, he smirked, "Yes?"

"Do you mind?"

"Nope."

Mercedes narrowed her eyes, "Well I do."

Sam's smirk grew, "Come on. Just consider me an extra pair of eyes. Look." His hand rested over hers, over the mouse, "You made a mistake there."

She couldn't even focus on him guiding the cursor for her—her hand felt like it was on fire but in a good way. Part of her wanted to yank her hand away while the other part of her wanted to yank him into her lap and find out what those lips of his felt like on hers.

"There," he softly spoke, raising his hand away. She glanced up at him and he looked back at her in a way that made her swallow thickly.

"Th…thank you," she whispered back.

He gazed at her for a lingering moment and then murmured, "You're welcome."

Oh my God that is a man's voice. Internally she groaned and her thoughts were unhinging further as his already close face neared hers some more. She saw his lashes lower when he glanced down at her lips, and a moment later, his pair grazed hers, sending white hot sparks through her veins. Right away, she reacted by tilting her chin up and catching his lips with hers.

They both gasped through their noses as soon as their lips pressed against one another's, but a second later they were exploring each other's bodies. Mercedes slid her hands up the front of Sam's jumpsuit to get a feel for his firm pecks while his long fingers ran up her arms but they left the satin fabric of her blouse and cupped her cheeks. She could feel the roughness against her soft skin—calloused fingers from the years of handing baseballs, mitts and bats, yet his hands were holding her face so gingerly that she was hardly bothered by the state they were in.

The wonder she'd had for weeks now about his lips was slipping away while new curiosities sprouted up in her mind. But she found herself abruptly pushing him away.

"No," she panted with a desperate need to catch her breath.

"No?" he also breathed. "Mercedes, wh—"

"I-I can't do this. I have to go," she cut across, poking a few keys on the keyboard and then rapidly logging off her desk computer. She could feel Sam's eyes on her—whether they were glaring or balking at her, she wasn't sure and refused to look up and see.

"What about your note?" he asked in a dark, challenging tone.

"I'll finish it from home."

"You mean the hotel."

Her hand paused on her purse below her desk. Dammit, he's right, she spat in her mind. He'd be there too.

"Yes, the hotel," she curtly affirmed. At least she would have some privacy in her room—a room that he didn't have easy access to.

"Wait a minute," insisted Sam as she stood and hurried around him.

Mercedes shook her head, hugging her briefcase to her chest and muttering things under her breath about not doing this and maintaining professionalism.

"Don't forget to close the door when you finish," she told him, putting her CEO hat back on.

She heard Sam let out a short sigh as she walked out of the room which only confirmed for her that yes, he was mad and rightfully so. Every time they started to get close; every time she started to feel something strong towards him, she pulled away, afraid and riddled with fear and guilt for that fear. It wasn't fair to him for her to keep doing this, and she wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to her beyond more curt greetings during his work hours again.

After pushing the 'down' button on the elevator, she closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and let it out with a slight fall in her shoulders. The moment one of the two elevators dinged, she looked up and stepped to the one on the left as its doors slid open, un-attentive to the jingling noise that was approaching. She set her briefcase down so her hand was free to dig around in her purse for her cell phone, while her other hand pushed the lobby "L" button. The doors began to close but she heard a blunt slam that made her jump, gasp and look up.

"Mercedes," he spoke in a stern voice. "Why do you keep running away from me?"

Her brown orbs were wide as she watched Sam step into the elevator. Overall, he looked calm but there was obvious irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

"We shouldn't do this," she replied.

"Why?"

"Because…" was all she said back.

He arched a brow, expecting her to say more but when she didn't, he sighed. "Okay if you're going to be childish—two can play at that game."

Mercedes' brows furrowed when he promptly turned his back to her and knocked his fist deliberately against the red emergency 'stop' button. A long buzzing noise followed and soon the elevator came to a halt.

"What are you doing?!" Mercedes asked hotly.

Sam glanced back at her, rolled his eyes and then looked up at the speaker grill above their heads.

A voice, somewhat familiar to Mercedes came through, "This is security—is everyone alright in there?"

She opened her mouth to answer but Sam beat her to it, "Hey Joe, it's Sam. Everything's fine. I'm just running some tests. I have my key once I'm done."

"Oh, okay Sam. Thanks for the heads up!"

Click.

Mercedes' eyes bugged when the intercom went mute again. She watched Sam turn to face her again while patting the set of keys clipped to his hip.

"Nice," she sarcastically hissed.

He smirked humorlessly, "I thought so. Now," he stepped up to her with no qualms of invading what little personal space she had. "Are you going to tell me why you keep running from me or not?"

The answer sat on her tongue but she wouldn't let it leave her mouth; she just kept gazing at him and trying not to let herself crumble. But the intensity in Sam's green hues started to evaporate and she quickly realized what he was seeing in her brown pair.

The creases between his brows smoothed out and his clenched jaw relaxed. Everything on his face melted and his lips formed a grimace as he whispered, "He really did a number on you, didn't he?"

Her lips parted with speechlessness. The 'he' that he was referring to didn't need to be spoken, and her answer was an obvious 'yes'. Without taking his eyes off her he moved an arm until his fingers were cupping her cheek and his thumb started stroking in the exact spot where her bruise once was. She didn't answer, but Sam went on anyway to ask, "Do you trust me, Mercedes?"

"I do, and that's what scares me so much...I don't want to get hurt again. I don't want to make the same mistake again."

"I understand. I just hope you'll let yourself be happy one day because right now, you're holding back and I get you protecting yourself and your feelings and all but…even if I'm not the one you end up wanting to be with sometime—and I gotta admit, I'd be bummed if that were true—"

She let herself smile at that.

"—You shouldn't let every man after him pay for what he did to you. And you deserve to know what it's like to be loved. Really loved."

She wondered if he was aware of the double meaning in his words. Of course she wanted both the physical and emotional, and something made her feel like it was achievable with Sam. Each moment she spent with him, he had a way of raising her defenses, only to bulldoze them over to accept and nurture her vulnerabilities.

"Sam…you've had four years to heal and move on..." she whispered, shutting her watering eyes. "I've had…I don't even know how long." A somber chuckle escaped her lips, "It feels like it's been so much longer than a month with how long things had gone on. Even now, I'm not even completely free of him yet."

"But you want to be," he asked. "I'm not trying to put words in your mouth. I just want to know."

Her eyes opened again to stare in his. "I do. Of course I do—the day you and I fought, I met with a divorce attorney to get the papers drawn up and I'm waiting to get them. Shane knows now and according to my attorney, he's furious with me, but we haven't spoken. Frankly I don't know why he's surprised; he didn't wonder where the hell the rest of my stuff went?" Her head shook and she gave a digressive sigh. "I just…" She shut her eyes once more for a slow blink and bit her bottom lip, "I spent a lot of time thinking about what you said to me about telling my experience to my readers and all and I..."

He dipped his head so that their foreheads rested against each other, making Mercedes immediately flush.

"I'm tired, Sam," she whispered, letting thin tears streak down her face. "I've been tired for a long time. Tired of feeling like I had to be…this lie to my company while I went home and put up with these beatings from Shane."

He lightly shook his head against hers and murmured, "You weren't a lie, Mercedes. You are a strong, intelligent woman and you go for what you want. It's time for you to just find a way to let things go—whether that's through an article in your magazine or sessions with a quack."

Mercedes bowed her head, smiled weakly and shut her eyes again.

"Okay, a therapist or psychologist. Whichever one but I'm serious. I hope you'll do whatever it is that you need to do so you can have everything you want."

She hesitated only for a second and then asked, "Even if that's you?"

Her eyes opened to find Sam already staring into her pair. Terrified as she was to give in, she admitted to him, "You and Dani have been two of the brightest spots in all of this. I really just…don't know where I'd be right now without you."

"Well…without me, you probably wouldn't be stuck in this elevator," he teased.

"Tsh," she grinned softly, "Yeah no kidding."

Sam's gaze intensified a bit and his voice dropped to just above a whisper, "If you want Dani and I in your life…if you want me, Mercedes, we're here…and I'm yours."

This time, with their faces close enough to touch, Sam closed the space, fervently taking hold of her lips with his. Her back arched away from the cold steel elevator wall but Sam pressed his body to her, forcing her back to the wall again. A moment later, her purse slid from her shoulder and fell to the floor with her briefcase. Her head tilted while her arms came around Sam's neck; she groaned softly at the feeling of his large hands roaming her curves, handling her with care and curiosity.

The passion between their lips quickly grew, and with that came two sets of hands, eager for skin. Mercedes pulled apart the snap buttons down the front of Sam's greyish blue jumpsuit, causing them to fall past his waist and hit the floor with a jangling thud. Meanwhile he slipped his hands inside her open black blazer and guided it off her shoulders; beneath, she had on a champagne satin blouse and a black high waist pencil skirt with a thick belt.

Sam chuckled against her lips and she pulled away enough to mutter, "What?"

Grinning, he mumbled back, "You've got a lot of layers."

Mercedes rolled her eyes and gave up on his jumpsuit to help him. Expertly, her hand descended down the front of her blouse, un-doing each button along the way, and a moment later she was undoing her belt and pulling down the zipper to her skirt.

"There. Happy?"

"Almost," he replied with a smug tone and a shrug of his shoulders. His lips parted completely from hers and he started pulling up his wife beater but her hands were anxious to help, so he let her.

Holy damn, Lord forgive me, she thought at the sight of his glorious, flat abs. He wasn't overly rip, but the sight he had to offer made her mouth water a little bit. Finally able to do what she'd been longing to do, Mercedes smoothed her fingers across both his biceps and to her delight, they felt firmer than they looked.

Sam toed his work shoes off, and then stepped out of his jumpsuit to kick it away, leaving him and Mercedes in only their underwear. She watched his eyes look her over but the self-consciousness started to inch its way to the front of her mind.

Sam must have caught it when his eyes finished appreciating the way her bra tended to her voluptuous chest. He leaned in until his lips were at her ear and murmured with perfect clarity and certainty, "You're so beautiful." Then, out of sheer carelessness, he tore the material at her either side of her hips, triggering another gasp from Mercedes.

"Dammit," she spat, looking down between them at the delicate, black satin rag that now sat between her feet.

"What?" asked Sam, looking down also. "That wasn't your only pair of underwear or something, was it?"

Mercedes put her finger under his chin to force him to look at the un-amused look that briefly graced her face.

"I really liked those," she muttered darkly, to which he promptly replied:

"I think I improved them."

She rolled her eyes and giggled but her light laughs were lost once his lips found hers again. He pressed himself close to her so she could feel the stiff bulge below his waist, and as she tugged down on the elastic waist, her knuckles brushed across his erect shaft, only sheathed by his thin cotton boxers. Soon, Sam's hand came over hers to move it out of the way so he could pull them off.

Sam continued surprising the hell out of her; while his lips trailed down her throat and neck, his hands roamed to the back of her thighs and he hoisted her up against the wall. Mercedes squealed and instinctively clung her legs around his back but she urgently muttered, "Put me down, Sam! Your knee!"

"Is fine," he growled, pressing her harder against the steel.

In the midst of protesting again, Mercedes' words were lost by a moan from his sudden entry. Her mouth gaped, and she was desperate for something above her head to cling to for the initial pain but the pleasure quickly followed and she was able to settle for gripping rail that lined the walls. As his hands squeezed her thighs, he started thrusting up into her.

Her back pressed rhythmically harder and lighter against the cold steel; her eyes rolled shut at the sound of Sam groan throatily into her chest. With each thrust, the bun she'd worn her hair in was gradually coming undone until her shiny raven-hued hair spilled messily over her shoulders. His lips caressed her breasts while his hips worked between her thighs. Mercedes' grip on the rail tightened as she loudly moaned his name.

She heard Sam give a husky chuckle, causing her to look down at him and pant, "What?"

In a breathy tone he replied, "You're a screamer."

Mercedes' lips strained to smile as she told him, "Shut up."

Again, Sam gave a husky chuckle and when his lips found hers again, his knees bent to hastily set her down while her pulled out, long enough to get her on the floor. Mercedes' felt the fabrics of their clothes against her back but before she could pull them out from under her, Sam was pressed against her, kissing her lips while his juiced member thrust into her again. One of Mercedes' hands came up to tug on his semi-lengthy blond crop while her other set of fingers curled into a cottony material nearby.

"Is that good?" he asked gruffly.

Again Mercedes moaned while the foreign tightness started in the pit of her stomach. "Yes, Sam…" she breathed in a strangled voice, moving her hands over his firm ass.

Something told her he was going to cum soon, and he did, but she enjoyed every single second leading up to it. His rough pace slowed and when he pulled out of her again, his muscular arms supported the majority of his weight while he hovered over her. Mercedes lips cast a blissful smile up at him and when he lowered his face close enough, she tilted her chin up and left a lingering kiss on his lips, followed by a couple of tender pecks before he lowered his head to nuzzle against the groove of her neck.

Sam shifted so that he could lie next to her, but his head remained nestled against her skin. "That was…"

"I can't believe we did that," she said with a grin. Reckless hadn't been in her vocabulary for ages, but it seemed like Sam was going to redefine her, and that thought excited and terrified her.

Sam raised a hand slightly, trailing a lone fingertip along the length of her bare arm. "Do you regret it?" he asked, raising his head so that his green eyes could look at her again.

She turned her head in his direction, searching in his eyes and then softly smiled again with a few slow shakes of her head, "No."

He smiled back at her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Mercedes lightly pushed against his chest to get his attention, however.

"If you're planning to make me a hit it and quit it woman though…"

"Mercedes, really?" he asked in a completely flat, incredulous tone.

Her brow arched but her lips were curved in a half smile through her resolute tone, "I don't think of you like that. I really don't, but I'm just saying…if you do—I don't care how good you just were, I will break your shit off and sell it on the black market, Sam Evans."

Both his brows rose to his hair line but he matched her half smile and raised a hand to salute her, "Yes ma'am."

Mercedes smiled full at him and reached up to stroke a finger across his large bottom lip. "I don't want you to think I'm like that either. I mean…that wasn't meaningless to me and—"

Sam placed an index finger over her heart-shaped lips and the moment after she stopped talking, he told her, "It was spontaneous. You don't have to explain to me. I mean, I was here too, remember?"

Her lips curled beneath his finger and for a long second she shut her eyes. Men like Sam Evans were rare—very rare. She had no idea how she'd been blessed with him entering her life but she hoped it was a time to last a long while.

She was beyond amazing. It wasn't news to him how breathtaking he thought she looked, dressed or carried herself. It wasn't news to him how admirably she ran her business or fought to be brave in spite of her unhealthy. It wasn't news to him how wonderfully she treated his daughter and came to at least somewhat care about him. But the physical wonder—the taste of lip gloss on her pillow soft lips; the feeling of her flawless brown skin under his calloused tan hands, and the rightness of being inside of her. Discovering that was marvelous.

And as he lay beside her on the elevator floor, drinking up all her beauty with his eyes, he found himself wishing that he could stay close to her. When he opened his mouth to ask her about possibly meeting later, before he'd have to relieve Finn of babysitting, the elevator intercom cut in.

"Sam, are you still in there?"

Sam and Mercedes both jolted upright; Mercedes gasped, snatching her blouse from beneath her as though they'd just been caught, and the two began to quickly get dressed.

"Uhhh, yeah—yeah I'm still here Joe. Just finishing up."

"Okay, 'cause one of the other janitors, Susie, is looking for you and needs your help on the fourth floor."

While hastily yanking his boxers up his legs he replied, "Alright, tell her I'll be there in 10."

"Will do!"

Click.

"Damn." He looked sheepishly to Mercedes and smiled when she started giggling.

"God we're lucky he hasn't tried operating this thing from the outside."

Sam chuckled once, "Yeah 'cause I'm pretty sure HR would fire me."

"I wouldn't let that happen."

He clamped his lips together, pausing only for a moment from his rushed re-assembly of his clothes. His eyes lingered on her face thoughtfully, and when he finally looked away from her, he bent down and picked up her blazer for her while she hooked her belt around her middle.

She buttoned up her blouse and then graciously accepted it.

"Can I meet you later?"

Mercedes tucked her lips inside her mouth which made him want to provoke them back out with his own lips, but he was attentive to her answer, "What about Danica?"

"Before I let Finn off the hook for the night…just for a little bit."

She accepted the blazer and threaded her hands through, allowing Sam's hands to be free to snap his jumpsuit together again. His eyes stayed on her for the duration, and when they both looked decent again, he turned his back to her long enough to insert the key and get the elevator going again. The entire lift gave one downward lurch and then continued on its usual, steady descent.

Finally, Mercedes gave him one nod, drawing her hair back from her face. "For a little bit."

He stepped up to her with one slight limp, smiled and tucked an independent strand behind her ear. "Thank you."

As the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, Sam stepped aside, giving her a knowing smile while she sauntered out. He unabashedly stared at her skirted backside until the doors closed on him. After pushing the "4" button, he let his head fall back against the steely wall and let out a soft sigh, reliving all that just happened in the elevator with a smirk on his face.

When the doors opened again he stepped out and went to find Susie, helped her with plumbing issue in the bathrooms and then returned to the top floor where his cart was. Upon reaching for the pocket on his cart where his iPod and phone were, he saw his phone screen already lit up and the device was buzzing.

Sam's brows furrowed at the name that flashed on the screen, but rather than ignore the call, he picked up his phone and answered in a stale tone, "Hello?"

"Um…Sam Evans?"

"Yep."

"Hi. It's Dave…Karofsky?"

"Yeah, I know. Hi."

"How are you, man?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, "Just peachy."

There was a pause and then he sighed, "I'm sure you weren't expecting to hear from me…"

"After all these years of not hearing from you or getting a returned call? Nope, can't say that I was."

"Please, just hear me out, Sam. What I've got to say is important and does affect you. I'm just sorry I didn't tell you this sooner."

The blissful, buoyant feeling was gone; like someone dropped an Acme weight right on his tightly inflated balloon. Whatever Dave Karofsky had to tell him, he doubted it was any good, especially since he was starting out with an apology.

"I'm listening." Limping his way to one of Mercedes' office lounge chairs, Sam took a seat and clenched his jaw for a moment, trying to brace himself for something—he didn't know what yet but he was about to find out.

Please leave reviews! And no, I don't know if a janitor at a building like this would have the keys to the elevators but I had this irking feeling that someone was going to make a comment about it in their review. So I'll just say right now that no, I don't know and if it isn't common/realistic, I don't care. I needed Sam to be the one to stop Mercedes from constantly running from him. Anyway, I digress on elevator technicalities. What did you think of this chapter? The one-on-one time between Sam and Mercedes? This random call from Dave Karofsky? What do you suppose is his relation/connection to Sam? Let me know! More is coming. :)

Chapter title: "Elevators (Me & You)" by OutKast