"He said he liked you?" Tina's eyes were wide with fascination while her brow creased slightly in confusion.
Mercedes nodded, still trying to get her own head around Sam's one liner in the hope that it would make it make more sense. "Yep. He said he liked me just as I am."
"Just as you are?"
She'd been repeating after Mercedes like a parrot the instant she'd called her friends together to fill them in and Mercedes was starting to find it tiresome. She turned to Santana who was just as wide eyed and for once in her life utterly lost for words.
"Well... fuck me!" She finally exclaimed, turning to Kurt in the hope that he might have something more constructive to say than that.
He didn't. He just held his mouth wide open and gaped at her as if she had two heads. She'd expected him to reply with some lewd smart-arsed comment yet even the great Kurt Hummel seemed lost for words. But then he suddenly found them again and she wished he hadn't. "You mean, exactly just as you actually are? Not with a slightly smaller bum or a slightly snazzier dress sense?"
This time she rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know white girls wish they had a booty like mine! And there's absoloutely nothing wrong with the clothes I wear. I may get lazy sometimes but I'm not a complete fashion disaster!"
Kurt simply grinned and ran a hand through his hair "I know some great stylists. Shagged one backstage at a photoshoot last week actually..." He stared wistfully into the middle distance at the memory as the three girls with him cast disgusted looks at each other. "Kurt, neither you nor my mother are going to get me to try out a new look. Believe it or not, I've gotten over my 'post-Finn mid-life crisis' and am happily back to being ditzy little me!"
To his credit he did look a little apologetic. "I'm not saying there was anything wrong with-"
She cut him off with a raise of her hand. "Good. Because that would have been a shame. But seriously guys, I need your opinions. I've never had some random guy say this to me before!"
"But he's not some random guy," Tina remarked as she topped up her wine without offering it to anyone else, "You used to swim naked in his paddling pool!"
"That has nothing to do with this!"
"That has everything to do with this!" Santana cried. "He sees you as this wild free sexy nymph!"
"Nymph!" Mercedes shook her head, laughing. "You've called me all sorts of things through the years Satan, but I think 'nymph' definitely tops them all!" Santana simply smiled back at her, proudly. "You guys really are no help!"
"But what exactly do you expect us to say?" Mercedes opened her mouth to reply when it suddenly dawned on her the reason why her friends were shooting looks at each other. We're a little merry band of singletons. We may periodically love hard and fast then nurse each other through our broken hearts, but somehow we're all on an equal playing field of disaster. Somebody who comes along spouting words like that is a potential threat to what we have. Oh hell…
But it's not as if those words were ever going to lead to anything. It's engagement shattering workaholic Sam Evans for fuck's sake!
"So he likes you just as you are and also happens to be extremely dreamy looking to boot right?"
I hate to agree with Kurt but dreamy is definitely the word that I'd use for him. "He's pretty handsome in a classic sort of way." I think that's diplomatic enough of an answer. "But anyway, I'm probably never going to see him again anyway so let's change the subject!"
Mercedes pretended that she didn't see the knowing looks her friends cast each other as they reluctantly changed the subject back to the vile Sebastian.

The next couple of months were great for Mercedes, life was going smoothly and she was loving her new job. Sam crossed her mind several times, but her mind was the only place she actually got to see him. The only fly in the ointment to this time period was her mother. The woman was driving her to her wits end. Mercedes was spending more and more time visiting her father who was getting lonelier by the day while her mother remained elusive. They'd met a couple of times, just for tea because that's all either of them could tolerate. Her mum was still adamant that there was nothing going on between her and Puck but it didn't stop the talk, especially as they were frequently spotted buying household items together like a regular couple. She was still a member of the WI but they were more wary of her than before.
"I don't really see what you're fussing about dumpling," Camille said as she waved for a fresh pot of tea, "Your father's taken up golf and he told me he's even gone and bought himself a pair of those stupidly patterned trousers that men who go golfing wear!"
"Mum! He's missing you!"
"Don't be so silly!"
"I'm not!"
"Anyway, if he wants to see me, he knows where I am!"
Well that's new...
And then, a couple of weeks later, things changed.
Camille pulled the last scone out of Mercedes' reach in case she got tempted to actually attempt to eat it. "So anyway, as I was saying, your father has gone and spent a small fortune on his own set of golf clubs. First the stupid trousers and now the equipment. I think he might actually be taking this seriously. Apparently he's even managed to make some friends at the golf club. He says they're not stuffy at all. Who would have thought, a black man playing golf in middle England!"
As usual Mercedes was frowning, and as usual there were multiple things that were 'off' about what her mother had said, but something was niggling her and she couldn't quite place what it was.
"Well I think it's doing him good to get out and about like that!"
Camille thoughtfully spread clotted cream over one half of the remaining scone. "You know what dumpling, so do I!"
Oh my- I've just worked out what's been niggling me! She just said that dad had told her about making friends! That means they're speaking again! And if they're speaking then there's every chance that they could...
There was no chance to get her answer straight away as her mum suddenly leaped up with an exclamation of shock at the time, stating that she had a meal at La Porchetta, the new Italian restaurant, to get ready for.
Only La Porchetta wasn't new. It had been open for at least eighteen months and Mercedes had lost count of the number of times she'd tried to persuade her parents to try it out but it was useless trying to get them to do anything outside of their usual routine.
So maybe she was going with somebody else... The sense of impending dread was tangible. Oh please don't let it be-
"You're not going with Puck are you?" The words came out of her mouth so quickly she barely heard them herself.
Camille turned, clutching the handbag close to her chest, an amused frown on her brow. "With Puck? What on earth possessed you to come up with such an absurd idea?" She chuckled to herself before gracefully sweeping out of the establishment, as usual, leaving Mercedes with the bill, because even though her mother had the greater personal wealth, Mercedes had the snazzy job in central London and women like Camille never actually pay for things anyway.

It was the next evening, when Mercedes popped in to see her dad that the wheels began to properly turn in her head. They had been chatting amiably when he let slip about his lunch being leftovers from an Italian meal he'd had the night before.
Surely it couldn't be... The chances of that happening were miniscule at best!
"You'd be proud of me Mercy! Finally tried out that new place on the High Street. La Bonita or something."
"La Porchetta?"
"Yep. That's the one. Although I don't understand why people want to pay good money in a restaurant to eat pasta that you can easily make at home. Even I'm pretty nifty with a jar of Dolmio now!"

Mercedes cocked her head to the side and regarded her father carefully. "That's the second time in two days I've heard that place mentioned. Yesterday when I had tea with mum she rushed off to get ready to go to dinner, then today you say you went to the new restaurant. You know I'm going to have to ask you dad..."
He simply shuffled and muttered something inaudible which was all the encouragement Mercedes needed to let out a cry of delight. "Yay! So you guys are finally working things out?"
"Don't rush to conclusions Mercy. We just talked, that's all. Neutral ground and all that."
"So she's not still with Puck?"
"She was never with Puck. He's been seeing some dizzy blonde actress who lives in those new luxury apartments they built near the station. They think that because it has a concierge entry system they can charge an arm and a leg to live there, but there'll always be people stupid enough to pay that kind of money."
Irrelevant information! "So she's moving back home?"
"We didn't discuss that."
"So what did you discuss?"
"Oh I don't know!" He shrugged frustratedly.
"How can you sit down for a three course meal and not know what you talked about dad?"
"Look, I was just happy she came and was glad for the company. We didn't argue, if that's what you mean. We just had a meal together, that's all."
She watched her father carefully. He was never one to let things on easily and she knew that trying to push him would only make him clam up. He stared at the dregs in his coffee mug for a moment before reaching for his cigarettes, taking one, putting it between his lips, pausing, then putting it back unlit. Something was definitely up. The road to recovery perhaps?

Dear Diary

Today just had to go and be my fucking birthday! I hate my birthday. It's like a constant reminder that I'm getting older and I'm still single.
If one more well-meaning person tells me that by my age they were already married with three kids and a dog called fucking Fido I swear I'll resort to violence. I don't need to be reminded that if I'd had a child at eighteen they would be revising for their GCSE exams!
Not only that, I forgot to take the day off work so that I can stay in bed, in my pajamas, with a bowl of dry Crunchy Nut Cornflakes and Meg Ryan video which would give me the perfect excuse to start drinking early!
As it is, I somehow stupidly mentioned cooking for everyone then having a night in and now I'm the one stuck doing all the work! I'd better get good gifts this year! Especially as I've had to fork out for a dining table just to fit everyone in...
Shit! The dining table delivery!
Thankfully Mercedes had an amazing boss. As soon as she walked into his office Artie had frowned at her. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I didn't take the day off."
"Why the devil not? I didn't expect you in and I'll be out at meetings all day anyway!"
Oh well in that case…
"Actually I was going to ask if I could take a few hours this afternoon because I'm expecting an Ikea delivery..."
"Just take the day off for free Mercedes. That way I won't look like a tight arse for not having ordered you a cake. It'll be here on Monday I promise."
"Are you sure-"
"Just go! It's Friday! Enjoy the long weekend before I change my mind and find you some data entry to do!"
He grinned at her as he pushed up his glasses and she took the hint.
Okay, so Ikea will be delivering the dining table between 1 and 3 which gives me plenty of time to set it up. I've got this morning to clean the flat and shop for food.
Hopefully this should all go smoothly...
And initially it did. By lunchtime Mercedes was home from Marks and Spencer with bags laden. She was going to keep things simple. Soup was for starters, because M&S did a vegetable soup which was just a good if not better than homemade, and as far as soup making was concerned, unless she was sick or particularly craved it, she wasn't going to use her precious time to make a liquid which wasn't even alcoholic! Main was going to be roast lamb with roast vegetables and gravy made from the meat juices and as for dessert, in homage to her mother's retro tendencies and out of a certain sense of fun she developed while finding disposable shot glasses in the pound shop, she was going to go retro with jelly and icecream, only it was going to be jelly shots and Baileys icecream so that they could start the night in the alcoholic manner that they intended to continue.
By one her hair was washed, her outfit for the night selected and her meat seasoned, busy infusing with garlic and rosemary sticking out of it every which way. By three there was no delivery but the vegetables were chopped and oven ready in their dishes with fresh herbs, olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
By four thirty she was pissed off. Still no delivery! Jelly shots were in the fridge. The recipie had said it made twenty four but by the time she had sampled it several times it now only made nineteen and a half and she hadn't factored the fact that she was also going to need to make space in aforementioned fridge for them. Thankfully the fact that she had to take the meat out of the fridge and put it in the oven solved that problem. She was just musing which temperature to set the oven before calling up Ikea and giving them hell when her phone rang. Worst possible moment. It could only be her mum!
"Mother!" She shut the oven door with her hip and affected a voice that was as cheerful as she could muster, which wasn't particularly cheerful at all.
"The most bizarre thing just happened to me-"
"I'm fine thanks mother, and how are you?"
Camille clearly didn't get the hint. "-one minute he was all sad and tearful because he'd broken up with that girl, then the next minute he tried to kiss me!"
"Huh? Wait- mum, who tried to kiss you?"
"Puck!"
"And you're surprised?"
"Well yes! Why would he want to go and do that?"
"Sheeesh! I don't know, maybe because you were there and he's always had a thing for you?"
"I keep telling you there's nothing-"
"And did you kiss him back?"
"Of course not! I pushed him away! I could never do that to your father!"
Camille's indignation brought a smile to Mercedes lips. There's hope yet! But rather than let the excitement reach her voice she rolled her eyes instead. "Look mum, if you play with fire you're bound to get burned!"
"I wasn't playing with fire! But... but I'm worried about how your father might react when he hears about it!"
"So be the one to tell him first!"
"It's not that simple!''
"I know it's not that simple but it's a start! "
She sounded unsure, "I don't know..."
"Mum! I'm your daughter! It's not up to me to fix your marriage for you! All I know is that dad still loves you very much and if you didn't still feel anything for him you'd never have pushed Puck away!"
"But-"
"But nothing mum! If you just-" She was stopped mid flow by the loud buzz of her entryphone. Checking out the window she saw a badly parked Ikea van with its hazard lights on. "About bloody time!" Tucking the phone under her chin she hit the door release button as she continued to speak, "Look mum I have to go. Ikea are delivering a flat pack dining table which I need go and assemble before my guests arrive for dinner. It is my birthday after all."
"Your birthday? I thought that was on Wednesday?"
'"Nope. That was the day I actually received you card in the mail but you were two days early!"
Camille sounded mortified, "I am soooo sorry!"
"Don't worry mum. At least you got the right week this time. And thanks for the vouchers by the way, Rigby and Peller definitely do the best bras for women my size!" There was a knock at the door and she quickly ushered the men bearing a box far larger than she'd expected. 'Just promise me that you'll talk to dad okay?"
Before her mother had a chance to answer she'd already ended the call. After ushering the men into the living room she remembered the oven and switched it to a safe hundred and eighty degrees before turning to tackle the late deliverymen who decided it was her fault that they hadn't been informed of the lack of a lift even though she had clearly stated it on the delivery request. Yet their unhelpful selves still turned out to be more cooperative than the table itself. By the time she'd unboxed it, checked through each of the pieces to make sure they were all present and correct and decided which way round the page of hieroglyphics, also known as the instruction sheet was supposed to be, she was deeply regretting not having paid the extra to have someone put it together for her when it was delivered. Trust me to use today to try and score a point for feminism!
An hour later and panic had well and truly set in. Only one leg was attached it was definitely not looking anything like the picture. She was just in the middle of an expletive filled rant when there was a knock on the door. Assuming it was a neighbour because the front door hadn't buzzed first, she opened the door without checking, only to lose her voice mid-sentence at the sight of a slightly sheepish Sam Evans on the other side of it.
She frowned. "Oh... Hi!"
He beamed back at her. "Hey. Someone was coming out the front door just as I arrived so they let me in. I didn't mean to scare you."
"I'm not scared, I'm just surprised."
"Well don't worry. I just stopped by on an errand to give you this!" He held out a small package which she accepted from him. "It's from Rory and Sugar. A birthday present. He was supposed to drop it off as we had a meeting nearby but he got a call to say one of the boys fell and needs stiches on his head so he had to go and meet them at A&E."
"Oh no! Is he okay?"
"He'll be fine. Little boys cracking their heads open is like a rite of passage. I remember doing mine by pretending to be Batman and leaping from a top bunk bed at school. Never did me any harm!"
'Much," teased Mercedes with a grin.
"Okay, much," he replied with a grin.
Oh lord, am I flirting? Flirting with this guy who I haven't seen for weeks and the last time I did he tells me he likes me just as I am? What are you playing at Mercedes? I need to wrap this up!
"Well, thank you Sam. It was kind of you to go out of your way."
"It was nothing. Like I said, we were near."
"True. But still..."
He smiled at her shyly, "Besides there's something about a coming to the assistance of a birthday girl that I just couldn't resist."
His shy smile was definitely doing something to her insides. She remembered the last time they were at her door when she'd dismissed him and resolved not to be so rude. "Would you like to come in?"
Sam looked at her intently. His expression said he probably wanted to but politeness made him decline.
Come on Mercedes! You're losing him! "To be honest I do have an ulterior motive. The feminist in me hates that I have to say it but this particular birthday girl has friends coming to dinner and is struggling to assemble the dining table that Ikea just delivered-" Sam had already stepped forward through the entrance and into her hallway as she continued, "It's not that I can't do this kind of thing myself because I assembled both my Billy bookcases without help, but this one is, shall we say, exceptionally challenging."
His smile made his eyes twinkle and wasn't in the least bit condescending. "I'd love to help."

Once she'd shown him through he immediately knelt by the assorted pile of wood and rolled up his sleeves before picking up the sheet of hieroglyphics disguising themselves as instructions.
Mercedes swallowed slowly as her mouth suddenly felt parched at the sight of him. "Er- would you like a cup of tea or something?"
He looked up at her from the paper and smiled again brightly. "I'd love one. Thanks!"
Happy birthday to me indeed! Suddenly have gorgeous guy with forearms like a Greek god building Ikea furniture for me! As far as I'm concerned this is something pretty close to perfection!
He was still checking over the pieces when she handed him the mug and he turned to her. "You know I never actually wished you many happy returns and all that for myself. You're thirty three now, right?"
Her face burned and she stared at her hand. As far as Mercedes was concerned she'd stopped counting after twenty five! Sam looked equally embarrassed. "I'm so sorry! That was unforgivably rude of me! I have this habit of constantly putting my foot in my mouth! I was just musing over the day of that fateful turkey curry buffet. My mother had spent the entire journey up there telling me that Camille had a daughter who did some fancy job in London and was only three years younger than me. I was thinking aloud just now, that's all."
She smiled. "Well as long as you figure out this table before my guests get here I'll forgive you!"
The instructions said it should take twenty minutes to assemble and it did give or take another hour or so. During that time Mercedes and Sam relaxed, talking, laughing and working well together. Finally they had a finished piece which actually resembled the picture and every fold and flap functioned as it should. Only it was upside down.
"Here, let me." Sam grabbed the table, lifting it the right way up before- "Ooooouch!"
"What happened?"
Sam had grabbed the back of one of his beautiful forearms. "Something sharp!" Peeling his hand back he revealed a long scratch on the back of his arm that was starting to pool with blood.
"Come with me!" Immediately she was pulling him by his good arm into her miniscule bathroom and forced him to sit on the edge of the bath.
"I'm fine!"
"Sam you're bleeding. Let me clean you up before you get blood on my floor!"
He pouted. "So it's not me you care about, it's the mess I'm making!"
"Precisely!" They both grinned as she carefully cleaned the wound, making sure that it had stopped bleeding before applying antiseptic cream. Her smile faded as she started to realise that their close proximity combined with touching his skin was giving her all sorts of tingles. Instead she busied herself searching for a plaster, only to find that there were just three left in the box and none of them were nearly big enough to cover the wound. After a few seconds she smiled again. "I have just the thing!" Reaching into the back of the bathroom cabinet she pulled out a long strip dressing that could be cut to length. She'd bought it when one particular pair of heels were giving her blisters and normal plasters weren't quite wide enough and she expertly applied it. "There, good as new. I'm sorry it's so ugly. The box says flesh coloured but-"
"But clearly it was referring to the flesh of an alien life form. Besides, no fabric would ever be able to capture the beautiful tone of your skin."
Seriously, this man is definitely trying me today!
In an attempt to avoid his sudden intense stare she averted her eyes and glanced at the clock. 'Shit! They were due five minutes ago so they'll be here any second! This place is a mess and I haven't even got dressed yet!"
Sam leaped to his feet. "You get ready. What do you need me to do?"
She thought for a second. "Can I be really cheeky and get you to take the boxes down for recycling? You can just put the door on the latch and let yourself back in."
"As you wish!"

Now for the Princess Bride feels!
The moment she heard him return and close the door behind him her entryphone buzzed. It was one of those long irritating buzzes where someone holds their finger on the button. It was also a trademark of Santana Lopez. Unfortunately for Mercedes she literally had her dress over her head and shoulders at that very moment and had to call out to Sam, "Can you buzz the door open for me? Just lift the handset then press the bottom button with the picture of a key on it. You don't need to say anything first."
By the time he'd done it she flew out of her room to be met with an intense stare and a low whistle. "Wow! You look- you look amazing!"
What is with this guy? He's dropping compliments like marbles through open fingers!
"Er, thanks I guess." She looked down at herself. There was no time to get dolled up so all she'd done was slip into a figure hugging teal dress, take down her hair so that it framed her shoulders and slip on a pair of matching heels. Definitely nothing to write home about and definitely nothing to warrant the more than appreciative expression that was currently on his face. Looking around herself the place was still a mess and her friends were already on the stairs. They would be starving after a day at work and expecting food-
Shit! I haven't been checking the food! The first lot of veg should have gone in the oven twenty minutes ago.
Flinging cushions left right and centre in an attempt to straighten up she turned sheepishly to Sam. "Can I bug you for another favour? I've totally forgotten about the food. I need you to go in the kitchen. You'll find a tray of prepared root vegetables. Can you stick them in the oven for me? And when you open the oven you'll see the lamb already in there. Just take the foil off, baste it a bit with the juices and put it back in to brown a little. I'll love you forever if you can do that for me."
"In that case, consider it done!"
He'd just vanished through the door when a wall of sound outside her front door alerted her to the crew's presence before the persistent knocking even began and she opened it to a chorus of whoops and happy birthday wishes before sweeping her inside with them.
"Mercy, have you got a new neighbour or something coz we just saw the sexiest man putting out some recycling!" Kurt was critically assessing her choice of outfit with his eyes.
"Yes! We had to stay in the car just so we could finish watching him before we came up. Fucking beautiful specimen!"
Mercedes shut her eyes, could their voices be any louder? Unfortunately even Tina found her voice. "What you have to do is go and borrow some sugar!"
"Forget borrowing sugar, just go and give him some sugar!"
Santana was adamant. "And you'd better hurry because if you don't I sure as hell will do!"
"Guys can you just-" Suddenly her three friends became silent and their eyes focused on the area by the kitchen door.
With a feeling of dread she turned to see an embarrassed looking Sam. "Um Mercedes, can you come in the kitchen for a moment?''
"Sure. But first I need to introduce you to everyone. Everyone, this is Sam, Sam Evans. And Sam, this is everyone. And when I say everyone I specifically mean my best friends Kurt, Santana and Tina!"
Sam smiled and waved his fingers at them with a quick 'hi'. Their reply was a chorus of 'hi' which closely resembled more of a fangirl sigh. He quickly turned back to Mercedes with a stare which actually started to make her feel concerned. "I really need you in the kitchen!"
"Sure."
As she followed him into the other room Kurt turned to Santana, "I'll cum in the kitchen for him anytime! Doesn't even have to touch me. I've got enough to go on already!"
Santana cut her eyes at him. "I told you the man's not gay. Besides, he really needs Mercy in there not you."
"Well just as long as they don't get any of their juices in the food I don't care!"
Tina glared at them both. "Why does it always have to come down to sex with both of you?"
"Because that's the way we're wired!"
Meanwhile in the kitchen Mercedes was attempting to apologise to Sam for her friends. It was going to be a long night…