Title: Tabloid Fodder
Author: bana05
Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Mercedes/Sam, Glee Club
Spoilers: All of Glee thus far.
Disclaimer: Glee ain't mine, unfortunately; otherwise, Mercedes would have a harem.
Summary: Sam's in the paper again, but Mercedes isn't having it this time.
Author's notes: Rating for naughty words. Please forgive errors and enjoy!


"Is it really that hard for you not to go sniffing around my sloppy seconds?"

Mercedes cocked her head to the side and arched her eyebrow, closing her locker to reveal Santana's mockingly confused face.

"I'm not going to ask what you're talking about, because I don't want you to think I actually care," Mercedes muttered and began walking to glee.

"About you and Sam?" Santana filled in for her, falling into step beside her.

Mercedes arched her brows. She and Sam had stopped hiding their relationship over a week ago and Santana was just now mentioning it? Granted, they were still subtle about it, but Santana was usually more observant than this.

"I don't require your permission to date a single man," Mercedes informed her.

"What about the 'Girl Code', Weezy? You leave the exes of friends alone!"

"Oh, well, this is news, that you consider yourself my friend," Mercedes snarked.

Santana stopped walking, hurt flashing across her face before she wagged her head and crossed her arms at her chest. "Well I—"

"Am my friend, yes," Mercedes affirmed with a slight smile, then it quickly fell. "But you got a lot of nerve talkin' 'bout some 'Girl Code'."

"I'm just saying—first Puck, then Sam! Who's next, Finn?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes at that. "Unlike you, I don't treat men like toilet tissue."

"Oh—!"

"And furthermore, why do you care? You dumped Sam—matter fact, you dumped Puck too. Twice."

"They know they're on standby."

"Not Sam; and if I hear of you sniffing around my man, what Lauren did to you on Valentine's Day will seem like a love tap, got it?"

Santana gaped at her, then she settled into a smirk. "Fair enough. So it's serious, hmm?"

"Um…" Mercedes said, still learning how to ride out Santana's mood swings. After a whole summer of dealing with the girl, she'd become better at deciphering when it was bravado and when it was genuine; but Mercedes still wasn't as proficient as she'd like to be.

"He's stopped doing his impressions, I hope," Santana muttered when Mercedes didn't respond.

"I think they're cute actually," Mercedes admitted, grinning a little.

A look of disgust hit Santana's face. "All right; three of your cool points have to be docked for that."

Mercedes smirked. "I'm trying to get him to do Denzel now—been watching Remember the Titans on loop at Mike's house."

Santana seemed to contemplate that choice. "There's a whole lot of deliciousness in that movie."

"Agreed. Wholeheartedly," Mercedes said, and the two slapped hands.

"Uh-oh, what's going on?"

Mercedes and Santana whirled around to see Quinn approach them. Santana rolled her eyes but didn't march off as she would've done even at the end of last school year, and Mercedes and Quinn gave each other air kisses to each cheek.

"Why that tone?" Mercedes asked as they all continued down the hall.

"Because Santana's involved, and that usually means something not pleasant for someone," Quinn said with a shrug.

"This is true," Mercedes said, nudging an elbow into Santana's arm at her indignant gasp.

"You know Aretha here is dating Sam?" Santana asked, effectively changing the subject.

"Yes," Quinn said and grinned softly at Mercedes. "I think they're adorable together."

"Okay, really, this whole 'I accept everything' shtick you've got going is really creepy, Quinn—"

"Yet refreshing; it exhibits growth," Mercedes praised.

"And not just the uterine kind!" Santana cracked.

"You know what, Santana, lay off," Quinn said sharply. "This is senior year; we should be above such childish things—"

Muckrakers were shoved into their chest by a grinning Azimio right as they reached the choir room. Santana hissed at him, and he affected a kiss to her in return.

"Don't know about you, but I'd rather newspapers than slushies," Quinn said.

Mercedes started to agree as she browsed the paper, and then she froze.

But not just any Mercedes!

Who doesn't want a Mercedes, right? They're the ultimate status symbol, proof one has made it to the top, but not all Mercedes are created equal. Someone should've let senior football player Sam Evans know this before "test driving" one Mercedes Jones. Sure, she's as big as the luxury car, but Sam does know that doesn't count, right? He needs to trade in that clunker Mercedes for the Beemer that is Santana Lopez or the Caddy that is Quinn Fabray again. Evans, we know you're not exactly rolling in dough, but that doesn't mean you should just "roll" any old hoopty off the Singles Lot!

Hurt and embarrassment pierced Mercedes like a spear straight through her heart. She scanned the hateful piece once more, and anger came in for the party as well. This had been one of the main reasons she hadn't wanted to broadcast her relationship with Sam—he had enough to deal with; and thinking how this might make him feel if he should see it only made her anger grow.

"Oh, hell to the no!"

Mercedes eyes widened at Santana's indignant exclamation and looked over to Quinn to see if she'd heard it. The blonde's eyes never lifted from the newspaper, however, and Mercedes noted the way her mouth tightened.

She jerked down the paper. "Guys—"

"A Beemer? Are you kidding me? I'm definitely a Porsche!" Santana snarled, hands on her hips.

"And I am certainly not a 'Caddy'," Quinn said with deceptive calm as she crossed her arms at her chest, her eyes snapping fire. "How more obvious can it be that I'm an Audi!"

The two former Cheerios shared a look then did a perfectly synchronized about face and started marching down the hall. Mercedes stared after them, agog.

Did that just really happen?

"Mercedes Jones? What do you have to say in response to the article that ran in today's Muckraker?"

Mercedes arched an eyebrow and turned slowly. The little snot Jacob Ben Israel was standing there with his irritating grin and his infernal microphone in her face and his handy cameraman hovering behind him. And as tempting as it was to yank that microphone out his hand and shove it up his urethra, it would take her too long to even find his tiny prick to make it remotely worthwhile.

She glanced at the camera, then the microphone. "Is it recording?"

"Yes!" Jacob said, his smirk growing and he nodded excitedly. "Fire away!"

Mercedes planted her feet on the ground and placed her hands on her hips, more to keep from strangling him than anything else.

"Firstly, I do appreciate the use of the car conceit in the article. As someone who has top marks in her English Literature class, I can say I was pleasantly surprised by how well done it was, even if patently offensive."

The look of utter confusion on Ben Israel's face was exactly what Mercedes counted on, and she smirked.

"Secondly, yes, I'm a big girl," she continued, her voice perfectly calm despite the rage she felt. "I've always been a big girl, and I do mean more than in size. I am high class and quality, just like the Benz you so 'cleverly' likened me to, so why would it be beyond the realm of comprehension Sam or any other guy would want a woman like me? Especially a guy as high class and quality as Sam Evans who, guess what, is also a very big boy— double entendre intended—with a very big heart. Clearly it would only make sense he'd want a whole lotta woman who could handle all that love he has to give and who has just as much love to give in return."

Ben Israel's eyes widened and the hand holding the microphone began to tremble.

"And thirdly," Mercedes finished, this time stepping all in Ben Israel's personal space and making sure her mouth was directly over the microphone. "This 'rag' you call a newspaper isn't even fit to wipe the shit from my ass, so never in your life should you or anyone else on your bullshit staff put anything about me, Sam, or any of my glee club family in another edition, or your blog, ever again. Got it?"

Jacob's jaw dropped and he nodded.

"Good, because I really hate being misquoted," Mercedes said, throwing the Muckraker at his feet before checking the status of her perfectly manicured nails. "Now go away."

He almost did a full pirouette and headed straight for the boys bathroom, his cameraman scurrying after him. Mercedes turned her attention back to her nails because she suddenly realized almost every eye in the hallway was on her. Embarrassment flared within her again and she closed her eyes against it, making sure to take several measured breaths.

She didn't open them when a pair of slight arms wrapped around her waist from behind her, either.

"That was amazing, Mercedes," Rachel praised and kissed her cheek. "You are amazing."

Tears fell despite her best effort to stop them. "I'm beyond pissed right now," she said quietly.

"It's my fault," she heard from beside her. Brittany. "Coach Sylvester asked about the glee club after the Muckraker meeting the other day and I'd mentioned you two—I had no idea you'd be written up like that. I'm so sorry, Mercedes."

Mercedes shook her head. "That is not your fault. Coach Sylvester's been nice to us recently, though."

"Yeah, but Jacob is the one that puts the paper to bed; Coach Sylvester's been pretty 'in name only' as the advisor," Brittany explained.

Suddenly there was yelling and shouting, and Mercedes opened her eyes to see a purple-slushied Azimio frantically shuffling down the hallway with his pants around his ankles and a look of terror in his eyes. Tina, Santana, Quinn, and Lauren stopped running once they reached the choir room, empty slushie cups held victoriously over their heads.

"That's how we do it in glee club!" Tina shouted.

"Yeah, don't start none, won't be none, Adams!" Lauren added, and she slapped hands with Santana and Quinn.

Mercedes hid her face in her hands, but it wasn't enough to muffle the loud snort of laughter she loosed. Rachel squeezed her arms about Mercedes, and soon five other pairs of arms came around her. They were all laughing to the point of cackling, and then they somehow started chanting "Don't start none, won't be none" and booty shaking to the rhythm.

"Okay, okay, that's enough."

Mr. Schuester's voice cut through the impromptu party they were having, and they all turned to see the boys regarding them with amused faces…except for Sam. His arms were folded at his chest and his jaw was so tight Mercedes imagined she could she a vein ticking even though they were at least ten feet away from each other.

"Mr. Schue—"

"We need to talk, Mercedes."

She did not appreciate Sam's tone, or the fact he'd decided to use it while interrupting her.

"Well, Sam, can it wait—?"

"No," Sam said flatly, his eyes never leaving Mercedes. "Now."

She stared at him for a moment longer, then she turned to Mr. Schue. "We'll see you next rehearsal," she finally said. She knew in her gut this couldn't be a quick conversation in the hallway.

Mr. Schue looked between them, then squeezed Mercedes' shoulder. "Rachel's right, Mercedes. You are amazing."

Mercedes gave a wobbly grin and nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Schue."

Tina, Rachel, and Quinn kissed her cheek before going inside the choir room while Lauren and Santana gave her high fives. Brittany fist-bumped and almost got tackled when Kurt rushed Mercedes and threw his arms around her.

"I love you, Mercedes," he whispered.

She squeezed him, tears threatening again. "I love you, too, Kurt."

"And…go easy on Sam. Puck and Mike almost had to sit on him to keep him from hunting down Azimio and Jacob."

She nodded and glanced over Kurt's shoulder to Sam. He was still staring her down and she shivered.

"Pray for me?" she asked, half joking.

Kurt looked behind him and snickered. "If you can keep from killing Jacob, you can handle this."

He kissed her cheek and went inside, leaving her and Sam in the halls with stragglers walking by them. Mercedes bothered the straps of her book bag and noticed Sam was without his.

"Do you want to get your pack?" she asked, more mumbled, really.

"Mike can get it for me," Sam said and he turned, starting out of the school.

Mercedes shot him a divalicious look but followed. Even though she was irritated, she couldn't help admiring the way he walked. Was it odd to think a man looked just as good from the back as he did from the front? Sam always stood upright and walked so assured, with purpose, as if he were ready to take on the world. The fact he'd never lost that straight and tall posture even during his family's hard time last year was proof of his resilient character.

He stopped walking once they were out of the building and looked appraisingly at her. "Are your parents home?"

Mercedes frowned. "No. My mom gets off at six and my dad gets off at seven. Why?"

"Because we need to talk, in private, and my keys are in my pack," Sam said.

"What are we going to talk about?" Mercedes asked slowly.

Sam shook his head. "Please, Mercedes. If I get into it now, I'm just gonna run back in that school and find Jacob so I can beat his ass."

She nodded once and led them to her car. The drive was quiet, tense, and no one said a word until they crossed the threshold of her home.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, walking into the kitchen. Sam hovered at the end of the breakfast bar inside the kitchen while Mercedes stood on tiptoes and rifled through her cabinet for something on which they could snack. She felt his stare on her, the intense green gaze even more potent now than it'd been in the school.

"I wanted to fucking kill him," Sam admitted.

Mercedes gasped, whirling around to face him. "Sam—!"

"Okay, fine, maybe not all that, but I really wanted to get one good ram of his head into the lockers," he amended unapologetically.

Mercedes fell flat-footed, gripping the counter behind him. "You realize in the grand scheme of things that article wasn't so bad."

"Anything that makes you cry is very bad to me, Mercedes," Sam said quietly and started to approach her. "Anything that could give you cause to doubt my love for you is also a big fucking deal. And anything to make you think I'm anything less than honored and humbled to call you mine is itchin' for me to open a can of whoop ass."

More tears fell unbidden from her eyes. "Damn it, Sam!"

He brushed the tears away with his thumbs. "I'm kicking Jacob's and Azimio's asses tomorrow—"

"They're not worth your suspension or worse, Sam," she reminded him.

"They're not; but you are," Sam insisted.

Mercedes shook her head, grasping his hands in hers. "Leave them alone. I'm…" She rolled her eyes and snorted. "I'm a 'big girl'."

"You're my lady," Sam said. "That means you don't have to fight the battles alone anymore."

Mercedes dropped her eyes and took a deep breath. "You know, there wouldn't be these battles if you were with me—"

"'Cedes—!"

"It's not gonna end," Mercedes warned. "If it's not my weight, it'll be my race…or yours. Or the popular yet dorky jock with the diva dweeb. In fact, the longer you're with glee club and with me the lower your status gets at the school—"

"Like Puck says—fuck them! Jesus!"

He harshly dropped his hands from her and spun around, stalking away from her while running a rough hand through his hair. Mercedes couldn't remember seeing him so upset.

"Sam?"

He didn't respond, merely shaking his head. Sighing, Mercedes approached him and wrapped her arms around him from behind, letting her hands caress his muscular stomach briefly. He grasped her hands and Mercedes buried her face between his shoulder blades.

"I didn't like how it went down, Mercedes, I'm sorry," he said after a quiet moment, his hands tightening around hers. "I know you can handle yourself, independent and all that, but I didn't like you had to be alone while you did it. I should've been there with you, by your side, behind you just in case…I don't know." He sighed and lifted her hands to his lips. "I didn't like giving off the impression you were fighting for us alone. You're serious to me, and I want others to take you—us—seriously."

"You were with me," Mercedes murmured into his back. "If I didn't have such faith and trust in you, Sam…" She trailed off, not wanting to admit what she was about to, but she was mushier at heart than she liked. "I would've never been able to say what I did. I would've believed that article at face value and really caused a scene."

He looked over his shoulder at her, his smile lopsided and endearing as his face turned red. "I have a big heart?"

She beamed at him. "You do."

"A big everything?" he asked, arching an eyebrow as his voice dropped.

She hid her face in his back again but her smile grew wider. "I'm not answering that!"

He laughed lightly. "You don't have to—already told the whole school…"

Mercedes scoffed and rolled her eyes, her cheeks ablaze. "I think I took that too far," she mumbled, untangling herself from him to leave the kitchen, but his arm snaked out and brought her back flush against his front. He began nibbling her neck and she giggled.

"Sam!"

"I am 'big' everywhere," he murmured in her ear, and Mercedes groaned.

"With those big hands of yours, I'm sure—" She bit off the rest of her speech, her eyes growing wide. She had not meant to say that at all…but she could admit she often looked at a guy's hands, and Sam had a beautiful pair.

"Oh, really?" Sam asked, very amused. "Am I allowed to touch you with these big hands?"

He was already, though, sliding them up and down her torso. Her nipples became hard and the space between her legs grew damp and heavy. Her breath caught in her throat when those beautiful, big hands of his finally cupped her breasts and squeezed. She moaned and sagged against him.

"Oh, fuck, please, Mercedes," he whispered in her ear and took the curve of her left ear between his teeth. "Let me touch you, lady…"

She arched her back so he could palm more of her breasts, her eyes dragging closed. This was not what she'd anticipated when Sam had said he wanted to talk, but she thought she preferred this conversation much more.

"I won't pressure you," Sam promised, and his hands slid back to the safer territory of her sides and stomach, "but I can admit the other reason why I had to get you alone was because I was really turned on by the way you told off Jacob."

She grinned saucily and turned around. "Yeah?"

"Mmm," Sam intoned, dropping a small kiss to her mouth. "Jacob totally had a wet spot when he rushed off to the bathroom."

She gaped, then arched an eyebrow at him. "Uh, how do you know that?"

He blushed but smirked. "Kurt told us and then Puck…well, you know Puck…"

Mercedes burst out laughing. She almost felt sorry for how Puck had no doubt tortured Jacob, but then she remembered that article and any sympathy she felt evaporated. "I was crying because I was angry…angry about how that article went after you and used me to do it."

He grunted and kissed her quickly. "I'm trying to get my groove on; don't stop me by getting me pissed again…"

"Your groove on?" Mercedes asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Hell, yeah!" Sam said and squeezed her. "I want to share all the love I have to give, lady."

Mercedes tensed, and the playful smirk Sam had been wearing immediately fell. "Sam—"

"Or we can just watch a movie!" Sam insisted. "Even one of those musicals you and Kurt are always talking about!"

And as much as her body thrummed for the more being promised in Sam's eyes, she knew she was too raw from the events earlier to take him up for it. "How about we just cuddle on the couch?"

His gaze softened with much understanding and he nodded, kissing her forehead. "An opportunity to hold my woman close? How could I say no to that?"

The next day the glee girls all met her at the entrance of the school, Lauren, Santana, and Rachel acting as her bodyguards. Mercedes rolled her eyes and told them they were being a little overzealous with everything, but then Brittany said they were actually protecting Jacob and Azimio from her, so Mercedes let them continue.

She, Tina, and Quinn broke off from the rest of the group to enter their first-period chemistry class, saying goodbye to the rest of the girls and promising to go to Breadstix before heading to the football game that night. Several eyes met Mercedes, followed by a few twitters, and Quinn gave them a most epic bitchface in response.

"Don't pay attention to them," Tina said, squeezing Mercedes' shoulder.

"Not one cent," Mercedes promised and sat down next to her lab partner, who gave her an encouraging smile.

As she normally did, Mercedes tuned out the morning announcements and sketched in the margins of her notebook, but the lead of her pencil broke when she heard Sam being introduced over the PA system.

"What the—?" She immediately looked to Tina and Quinn, but they appeared just as confused as she was.

"Uh, I'm Sam Evans, senior, member of the glee club and the football team. I want to thank the student body president for letting me, um, step in real quick because I have something I want to address…"

Rustling suddenly came over the air and frantic whispering, followed by Sam's deep, "Shoot!" and Puck's, "Dude, seriously?"

"My bad," Sam mumbled. "Anyway, uh, I guess you can call this a rebuffal—"

"Rebuttal, Sam, to be more precise," Kurt corrected non-too-softly into the speakerphone.

"Right, rebuttal to that—"

"Craptastic—"

"Finn, I don't think we're allowed to say that over the intercom—"

"But it was, Artie—" Mike interrupted.

"C'mon, y'all," Sam implored on an exasperated sigh. "This is my rebuttal to that cra—really mean article that ran in the Muckraker yesterday about my lady Miz Mercedes Jones. 'Cedes, you ain't no hoopty, that's for sure!"

By this point Mercedes had slumped so far down in her seat she was almost under the lab table, her chemistry textbook hiding her face from all the eyes that were now on her…again. But then she heard the opening strains of a guitar, and a smile slowly formed on her face behind the textbook.

Van Morrison's classic "Crazy Love", the Brian McKnight edition, sounded just as good in the acoustic glee guys' rendition—or maybe Mercedes was just biased. She liked the country flavor Sam added to his tone, and Puck's guitar solo was gorgeous. She closed her eyes and swayed, singing along with the background vocals because this had been her jam when it'd first come on the radio and her father would playfully give performances to her mother and her on lazy Sunday afternoons with her brother doing backup.

When the song ended, there was clapping not only from the intercom, but from her class as well. Mercedes still hadn't revealed her face, but her cheeks hurt from the large smile she wore.

"Er, yeah, so, I love you, Mercedes," Sam's voice slithered through the applause. "Don't let the haters get you down, okay? Okay…"

It was unclear how Mercedes endured class, but she was in no hurry to leave it when the bell rang. She packed up her book bag slowly, laughing nervously at her lab partner's parting "Congratulations!" Tina and Quinn wrapped her in large hugs and proceeded to gush about how romantic Sam was, and all but escorted her out into the hall. Sam and the rest of the glee club were by a bank of lockers opposite from the class, and the club began to cheer when they spotted Mercedes, causing the rest of the hall to do the same.

Mercedes hid her cheesing face in her hands, only for Sam to approach with his adorable lopsided grin and pull them away to wrap her arms around his waist.

"I'm gonna kill you," she mumbled into the "M" of his letterman jacket, holding him close.

He kissed her temple. "Okay, but could you do it after the game tonight? Bieste is starting me at quarterback since Finn lost the coin toss this morning…"