A/N: Twenty seven reviews? Yay! To the anonymous reviewer: Mhmmm? Pregnant you say? Mhm? Anyways, I'm deleting 'Miss America' and am starting a Madge/Gale story for THG. So, if you ship Gadge… keep your eyes open!

Enjoy this SAMCEDES chapter! BTW, I'm not necassarily 'good' at writing Samcedes. But I try.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, nor do I have anything to do wiff it. It is on tonight, however.

"Sam," Mercedes said calmly. "Sam, we need to talk."

"Oh my gosh. You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" Sam shouted, face stricken with fear. "Please, Mercedes. Don't break up with me. I love you. We can make this work. I mean we ca—"

"Calm down Sam," Mercedes cut him off. "I'm not breaking up with you!"

Sam took some breaths of relief before hugging Mercedes. He kissed her lips before returning to his spot on the floral couch. "Kurt will kill me if he finds this in my apartment," Mercedes told Sam sternly when the couch arrived last week.

"No, no. We need to talk about the apartment situation."

"What about it? I'm paying rent, Mercedes."

"I know," she laughed. Sometimes Sam could just keep talking and talking, not wanting to listen. He jumps to conclusions way too fast, but hell, Mercedes loves him. "You are a pig. I mean, look at you!" She pointed to his shirt, which was covered in Cheeto Puffs crumbs, and spilt soda.

Sam looked down to his red and gray shirt. He liked it. It was manly, and he looked totally hot in it. Well, Britney had told him that when she had a Glee Club Sleepover. "You know what, Sammy?" she asked him. "You are totes totes totes hot in that shirt." She had leant into him and her breath had traces of Jack Daniels.

Sam shrugged and said to Mercedes, "I look hot in it, though."

"Yes, you look hot in anything." Mercedes told him, putting her hands on her hips. "But that's not the point! You are a complete, utter slob, Sam. I can't stand the smell of work out, and you have pizza boxes all over the house by the time I come home from school!"

Sam just shrugged and returned to the reruns of Jersey Shore. "Sam," Mercedes snapped at him. "I think… I think it's time you learn how to clean."

With 'Barbara Streisand' booming in the background, Mercedes sprays the table glass table with Windex. She shows Sam how to rub it down until there are no streaks of liquid. Sam whines, but his girlfriend demandingly points to the table.

Before long, the boy has the Windex cleaning down. He even adds some moves to make cleaning fun. He wags his butt around, wiping in the Windex.

He puts 'Barbara Streisand' on a constant replay. Soon, after wiping down the faux granite counter top from any crumbs and germs, he slips on some fuzzy socks as he cleans the tile floors. Sam slips, and then comes up with the best idea ever.

Making sure Mercedes is vacuuming theirs and the guest room, he grabs the handle to the sweeper, and glides across the floor. "Barbara Streisand!" he says in a monotone voice. "Doodoodoodoo! Barbara Streisand!"

If it was anything like it is in the movies, anyone watching Sam dance across the floor, would say that it was awesome. The sound of hands clapping together cut Sam's moves short. "Wooh! That was awesome Sam!"

See, he told you. Mercedes thinks that his movie like moves were awesome! "Thanks," he said kind of embarrassed. Mercedes runs to him and wraps her arms around his tiny frame. "Was it like the movies?"

Mercedes lets out a laugh before answering with, "It was better than the movies."

"Sam, I'm on my way home," Mercedes told him through her phone the following day. Sam answered with a tired 'okay' before hanging up. Men, she shakes her head. Hopefully, probably not, but hopefully there is a steaming plate of fried chicken waiting for Mercedes at home.

Mercedes has had a looong day filled with annoying teachers, annoyed students, and long classes. After she got out of her classes, she couldn't hail a taxi to get back home. So, as she was walking for what seemed like forever in heels, she finally found a taxi.

She was only like, ten minutes away from the apartment but jeez. The walk was difficult, especially walking on the worn out, cracked up, cobblestone sidewalks of Cincinnati. Mercedes now understands why Snooki and J Wow complain about walking in Florence with heels.

Your effing feet bleed!

Mercedes grabbed her ring of keys from her purse, and put it into the key hole. With a few movements of her hands, the apartment door opened with ease. She put her nose into the air and smelt for something! Like, possibly fried chicken. Nothing. It smelt like Febreeze and Lysol.

At least he cleaned the house, she thought. Mercedes kicked off her black pumps, and hung up her purse before making it through the apartment walkway. "Sam? I'm home, baby!"

"Hey, stay there and close your eyes will you?" he called back to her. She did as told, but wondering what he was up to. Sam's hands enclosed her eyes, and he walked her through the rest of the apartment.

"Your hands smell like vanilla," she giggled.

"Well, I did use Warm Vanilla Sugar soap from Bath and Body Works," he said sheepishly.

"Oh."

"Open your eyes," Sam finally instructed. Mercedes took Sam's hands away from her face, and then opened her eyes slowly. She was standing in the doorway to the apartments little terrace, which wouldn't budge open until now.

"Sam…" she breathed, amazed.

"Wait, there's more." He pulled back the sage green curtains, and waved his arm out, telling Mercedes to step through. She took his other hand, and then stepped away from the tile onto the concrete.

"Sam," she said again. A little stained glass table sit in the middle of the terrace, with two mesh wire type chairs around it. On the table however, really made Mercedes… life.

A big plate of fried chicken took up most of the table. Along side the chicken were steaming bowls of mashed potatoes, and rice. Yummy.
"Oh Sam…"

"I did it because you deserve it." Sam confessed. "You taught me to clean, and as a reward for that, and being an amazing girlfriend… I give you a homemade dinner."

That was the first real dinner they've had in their Cincinnati apartment.

A/N: Ehh, it's alright. Thanks for reading down here, and always, reviews are welcomed. My little rant of the week is this:

Britney wasn't on the Glee Graduation cover. WTF? Is she not graduating or something? THIS IS UNFAIR! UNCONSTITUTIONAL! Britty Boo needs to graduate!

I'm done with my rant.

-Love always, Alexandria