Dancing all alone

To the sound of an enemy's song

I'll be lost until you find me

Fighting on my own

In a war that's already been won

I'll be lost until

You come and find me

"So, when were you planning to tell me about making Santana my bodyguard?" Mercedes asked, changing the subject.

If Sam wasn't going to follow through with his suggestive promises—and she knew he wasn't, at least not now anyway—then they might as well talk about something else just as important.

He sighed, wringing out a washcloth. "I don't know. Probably not ever, if I'm being honest."

"I'm not a child, Sam. I'm your equal. If the roles were reversed, I certainly would've told you what I was doing before I did it. The least you could do is be considerate about it."

"I wasn't trying to baby you or undermine you," Sam replied honestly, "I just wanted you safe, and I didn't care about anything else. I still don't."

"Not even my best friend's safety?" She asked.

Sam stopped washing her arms. "Santana didn't get hurt."

"But there was a chance she could have gotten hurt. Even killed," Mercedes went on, feeling her heart constrict at the thought of Santana being murdered, "So what then?"

"I stand behind my decision." He said, voice hard.

Mercedes turned her head to look at him.

That's terrible, she thought. But it was the truth and the truth was terrible, wasn't it? He started washing her thighs before trying to open her legs.

Mercedes pressed her legs together. "Sam what are you doing?"

"Bathing you." He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She shook her head. "You can't wash me there with that soap."

"I can't?"

"No. I'm—the skin there is too sensitive." Mercedes' face was burning from embarrassment. Sam was knowledgeable, how did he not know that?

Sam made a sound kin to awareness before nodding in understanding. "Oh. Okay then."

Mercedes had to remember that last night they were both virgins. Sam might know a lot, but he didn't know everything. This had nothing to do with sex, after all.

"You never told me about the extent of your powers." She said after a while.

"Well that's because I don't really know myself. I'm not an Elite anymore, remember?"

Mercedes had forgotten about that, actually.

"There's a lot of things I can't do," He went on, "I'm more human than anything, but…being with you has kept some of my immortality intact."

"How have I done that?" She wasn't doing anything.

Sam didn't say anything at first, thinking about it, "I don't remember who said this, maybe it was me or Damien…I don't know, but being with our Promises helps a lot. I was created to protect you. It's the most basic instinct I have. So even if I'm not entirely Elite anymore, some of my abilities remained."

"But you don't know which ones." Mercedes deduced.

"Exactly."

"I thought training was supposed to help you figure that out?"

"It has," He said, "I can still run fast, and I still have my strength. I can't morph into my Shadow form anymore, and I don't heal quickly...it's delayed."

She wondered then, how their strong connection remained when they weren't bound by the power of his Immortality and other powerful forces. Were their souls still connected? Or were they both blinded by being in love? And the most important question…the one that weighed on her mind subconsciously: Would Sam still love her if he wasn't her Elite? If he wasn't created for the sole purpose of being by her side, would he want to be?

Mercedes knew she wasn't easy to love, nor was she easy to like. She was a social pessimist, with more insecurities than she wanted to think about. Her looks were utterly ordinary.

…And that was another thing. Why did the Elites look like supermodels when their Promises were so plain?

"Why are all of the Elites so beautiful?" She asked suddenly.

"They're not." Sam chuckled softly, like the question was funny to him, "Some of them are quite ugly. Our appearance is created from what our Promise is perceived to like best. Elites aren't attracted to appearances like humans are. That's one problem I've noticed with people on earth. The majority think with their eyes, and base their importance on how attractive they are to somebody else."

Mercedes nodded. She thought then, about how all of her insecurities came from the most shallow of places. Her hair, skin, weight, clothes—a bunch of shit that didn't matter. It never should have. But what about the insecurities she had that weren't shallow—like the uncertainty surrounding her relationship with Sam?

Did she love Sam, or did she love what he was? Mercedes knew that he would never hurt her. That was one of the things she loved most about him…but Sam wouldn't hurt her because he literally couldn't.

Am I using him?

He said that the Promise-to-Elite bond wasn't a substitution for feelings. He said they would just be drawn to each other, not in love. And while she knew he loved her for his own reasons, maybe he just didn't know any better. She was all he had ever known apart from other immortals, and beyond that they were spiritually bonded together. In a situation like this, falling in love would be easyfor anyone.

"Sam don't you think—do you think our entire relationship is a manipulation?"

Sam stilled in his movements. "What do you mean?" He asked quietly.

"I mean everything we have has been manufactured by somebody else…it's contrived because we didn't get a choice. It just happened."

"I chose to be with you this way," He said softly, "and I'm happy with my decision."

"But would you have chosen me if things were different? If you weren't bound to me and I had no ties with you, would you even look in my direction?"

"Mercedes."

"No I'm serious," Mercedes insisted, suddenly on the verge of tears, "I feel like if none of this existed—and we were just normal people—I would've never ended up with you. Or anyone, for that matter."

Sam moved from behind her to get in front of her face. Or as best as he could, considering that she was in the tub and he wasn't. He stared Mercedes down until she made eye contact with him. "I honestly thought we were past this, but I guess we aren't." Sam looked upset.

"Humans," He scoffed, "Always overanalyzing every single thing. If things were different, if this happened instead of this…good Lord."

"I know everything is against us right now. Time, immortals, mortals…it makes things complicated. I understand that. But you and I? We're not complicated. We're the simplest part. I thought that much was obvious, but since it isn't I'll clear up things again: You love me, and I love you."

The tears in her eyes finally spilled over as Mercedes started crying tears of (confused?) frustration, turning away.

"Look at me, Mercedes Jones." He ordered, and she did, looking at him through blurred vision.

"It doesn't matter where we'd be if the situation was different, because it isn't. We have enough to deal with as it is. Of all the things to worry about…this shouldn't be one of them. I love you and you love me. It's that simple. So stop torturing yourself, okay? You said it before: We have each other right here, right now, and that's all that matters."

Sam smiled at Mercedes in a way that reminded her of when they first met, and something inside her healed so quickly that it almost felt exactly like breaking.

She had nothing to say other than I love you, but he knew that, so she kissed him instead.

"Sam?" She said, slightly out of breath.

He secured the towel around her body and nodded. "Yes?"

Just as Mercedes had originally guessed, Sam didn't end up trying anything in the bath. All he did was wash her off and attempt to keep things PG. What a joke that was. They didn't have much time left and that was the driving force that kept them wanton for each other. They were in love yes, but in a lot of ways they were in lust too.

She watched him focus on the water dripping from her head and shoulders. How much longer were they going to play this game with each other? Mercedes inhaled deeply, looking at his mouth.

I'm tired of waiting.

"Can I kiss you?" She asked, covering his hands with hers.

Sam looked at Mercedes suspiciously then, tilting his head to the side. "What a strange thing to ask for."

She shrugged. "You're always kissing me…I want to kiss you this time."

"I feel as if we've gone backwards in our relationship right now." He murmured jokingly.

"…I want the control." Mercedes added seriously, staring at his lips.

He exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping with the weight of it, before finally saying, "Then take it."

Mercedes took her hands that were lying over his and grabbed onto his shoulders. She surged forward, kissing him directly on the lips. Then she pulled back, kissing him more aggressively as she worked her mouth over his. Mercedes was surprised. By now Sam would've taken the reins, but at this point he hadn't. Sam was perfectly compliant and still, not making any moves to take over.

He started panting after a while but Mercedes ignored it, continuing to ribbon his tongue with hers. She could feel the strength beneath his skin fighting with his self-control. He wanted to do something. She ran her tongue over his lips in response. Mercedes could see why Sam liked leading these intimate moments between them. Being able to dominate over someone as powerful as Sam was intoxicating. Mercedes slipped her tongue between his lips again, running it over his sharp teeth before leaving his mouth and latching onto his bottom lip.

Sam trembled against her. She smirked, trailing kisses to his jawline and throat. Mercedes left his Adams apple with an openmouthed caress before Sam made a noise of frustration and she heard something collapse and break.

She pulled away. "Sam what…?"

But at this opportunity Sam buried his head in her neck, covering her skin with openmouthed kisses. Mercedes inhaled sharply. What happened to her being in control?

"Sam," She started as she felt herself being lifted, legs automatically draping around his hips. "What are you doing?"

"I need you." Was all he said. Then Mercedes heard something else give way and collapse as he took them out of the bathroom.

They were a tangle of damp limbs, maneuvering through his bedroom to a steady surface. Through her haze of want, Mercedes had taken the reigns of their impassioned kiss. She bit his lip in a warning that he had better not try to take control anytime soon.

She felt her body being lowered onto his bed, and she nuzzled Sam's neck gratefully. He lingered there, with hands on either side of her head as she kissed him. Mercedes ran her fingertips down to his navel, thinking. Shouldn't she be on top?

Sam's entire body was taunt in anticipation for what Mercedes would do next. He hissed and let out a labored breath.

"Turn over," Mercedes told him, panting the words into his ear.

He did as she asked, making sure to move gingerly so he wouldn't hurt her. Mercedes sat there straddling his abdomen before sliding down to take his pants and boxers off. There was no reason why she was almost naked in her towel and he wasn't. When she came back to her original position above him, his erection was pressing urgently against her clothed hip.

"We can't do it like this," Sam blurted out, just now realizing it, "You're still hurt. And we've only done it once, so—"

"I know." Mercedes interjected. She played with the knot that was keeping her towel wrapped together.

Sam watched her fingers with apt fascination. "Oh."

"Why aren't you naked?" He added, as if it were an afterthought. He had been staring at the knot in her towel the entire time. She smiled.

Mercedes leaned down and kissed him softly, trying not to laugh. "I don't know. Do you want to do the honors?"

Sam sat up so quickly Mercedes almost fell off of his lap. He gripped Mercedes' waist to keep her steady and untied the knotted towel before throwing it somewhere on the floor. Sam started kissing her almost immediately, squeezing the curves on her back and pulling their hips together so she could feel how hard he was. As if she didn't already know. Mercedes exhaled noisily, woozy from the feeling of their skin rubbing together.

"Fuck, Mercy." He cursed, reaching down to grab her ass. With the way he was sliding against her, and those words he was breathing so close to her ear… Mercedes moaned loudly. She couldn't help it.

Sam's eyes turned dark. "Lay back."

Mercedes hesitated, not wanting to give in just yet. What about her being in control? She had straddled him all of what—five minutes?

"I promise to make you feel good," He implored, voice gritty and low, "I'll do anything you want…if you'd just lay back."

Mercedes still hadn't made a move to lie back yet, and Sam stared at her longingly. "Please…I'll make you feel good…so fucking good. Please, Mercy?"

She shivered, feeling herself turn needier at his words. Sam must have figured out that when he spoke to Mercedes this way she would agree to anything. It was the second time in less than 24 hours that he pleaded for something like this. Sam ran his hand through the curls at the nape of her neck, getting a good handful and gripping tight. He pulled back, exposing her neck to him as he kissed the skin below her jaw.

"O-okay." Mercedes choked out.

Sam relinquished his hold on her hair, kissing his way to the skin behind her ear. "Are you nervous?"

She wondered why he asked that, but then realized her legs were shaking. She shivered. Mercedes was a lot of things at the moment but nervous wasn't one of them. "No," She replied, "I'm—I'm just—"

Sam nodded, watching the tips of her breasts tighten under his gaze. "I know," He said, turning them over so she was lying on her back, "I'll make it better."

He nuzzled his way down to her chest, kissing and sucking her nipples. Unfortunately this did not make the situation better. Every tug from his lips just made Mercedes ache even more. He worked his way to her hips, staring up at her with dark green eyes.

"I want you to watch me when I kiss you," Sam said, stroking a finger through her folds, "Okay? You have to watch."

Sam started kissing her again, just as he had done the night before. Mercedes was lost, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on her. She was so sensitive, and it felt so good… She didn't want it to ever stop, but Mercedes couldn't keep eye contact with him like this.

Sam hummed, pulling a lip into his mouth. He stared up at her, still humming, and Mercedes tried to stay focused. How was she supposed to concentrate when he did things like that? He ran his hands over her breasts, massaging them for a moment. She about caved in right then and there. Mercedes started trying to recite the alphabet backwards in her head, anything to calm down.

Z, she thought, watching her legs shake beneath his strong grasp as he licked harder.

He tongued her opening, closing his eyes. X...no Y comes before X, she thought. Sam reached up to grab her hips, pulling her closer to his mouth. Mercedes cried out, looking away, no longer able to concentrate on letters in the alphabet. She could barely catch her breath. As she leaned her head back because the sight of Sam erotically kissing her was too much to bear, he released her lips with a pop. Mercedes' head snapped up so fast her vision swam.

"Sam—why—"

"You have to watch." He reminded her, saying the words against her swollen lips.

"I can't just watch you—"

"Why not?" Sam asked, giving her one last kiss before raising his head to look at Mercedes, "Was it not good for you? Did you not like it?"

Mercedes groaned in frustration, her chest heaving. She couldn't believe Sam was trying to hold a conversation with her now of all times. "I do. Sam, just p-please…"

Sam watched Mercedes for a moment, blinking slowly. And then he finally relented. He lowered his head back down, kissing her softly.

"Oh." She tilted her head back, feeling the sensation overwhelm her. It felt like she was climbing a steep mountain.

Please…

Mercedes felt a deep knot in the pit of her stomach, waiting to be released. And Sam just kept kissing her deeply, massaging her folds with his mouth. It was as if he was healing the sensitive skin there. Mercedes was so close. She was right there.

"Right there." She cried, the pressure in her abdomen building.

Just as Mercedes was dangling off the edge, about to fall over, Sam stopped. What…? She screamed, frustrated beyond belief. The knot in Mercedes' stomach was literally hurting her and she wanted to punch Sam.

"It hurts," Mercedes stammered, that being the only thing she could articulate for some reason, "Sam why would you—it hurts."

"I don't want you to come, at least, not yet."

She grimaced, her emotions ranging between fury and bewilderment. It was almost comical. This had to be the first time Mercedes had scowled during sex. "How do you get to decide these things?"

Sam didn't respond, moving up to her face. He tried kissing her but she turned away, almost on the verge of angry tears. She was inconsolable.

"Don't kiss me when you're not going to follow through." She spitted out.

Sam grabbed ahold of his shaft and started moving it through the downy skin of her nether lips. She gasped. Mercedes was so wound up she was certain the moment he filled her she would fall apart.

Sam chuckled, "So I can do this but I can't kiss you?"

"Yes," She responded, shifting her hips, "Hurry."

Sam shook his head, trying to stop laughing. Then he slowly pushed himself in her for the second time. Mercedes gasped as the knot in her stomach resurfaced. She could have fainted, it was so abrupt. Sam stayed still, waiting for what Mercedes did not know.

"You're close," He said, short for breath, "I can feel…"

"Oh." What was she supposed to say to that?

A few more moments went by before Mercedes became impatient. "Move Sam."

He started withdrawing before coming back in her, slowly. Sam was right. She was close. Mercedes lifted a hand to her eyes, trying to pull herself together. He pulled out and came back , pressing up against a sensitive spot that made her see stars. If he did that again she was going to shatter, she knew it.

He did and surprisingly she didn't, but Mercedes was concentrating on not coming so that was probably why. She held out for another minute but sure enough she fell apart, gasping and murmuring incoherently. It took a little while for Sam to finish, but Mercedes didn't care.

"It's okay." She whispered, leaning up and kissing his neck. The movement made her clench around him and he groaned.

Mercedes ran her hands up and down his back, wrapping her legs around his hips. She could feel him pulsating. "I love you Sam."

He exhaled sharply, burying his face in her neck. She tried clenching her inner muscles around him and Sam stilled, his hips jerking. The rhythm was off and Mercedes knew that meant he was climaxing. She kissed the side of his face.

The last time they did that she was exhausted afterwards, but this time Mercedes managed to stay awake. She lied on top of Sam, playing with the longest strands of his hair.

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Was that okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No you didn't hurt me," She said, swatting his hand away so she could play with his hair again, "You didn't hurt me last night either. I was just sore."

"So sore you couldn't walk." Sam pointed out, grabbing her wrist again. He didn't stop Mercedes, just wrapped his hand around her.

"Please don't start that again."

He grinned, chuckling softly. She wondered if they could go another round to prove the point that she was fine. When Mercedes opened her mouth to suggest this, that's when she heard it.

The sound of something wet sluggishly hitting the floor downstairs jolted Mercedes out of her lust filled stupor. Sam had already heard it too and immediately sprang into action, covering Mercedes with the comforter and finding pants to put on.

Mercedes was frozen in silence, willing herself to breathe normally. What was happening? After all the planning and strategizing, had the Council come to ambush them? She remembered the last time they were in close quarters with those people back at the Renaissance hotel. It was terrifying then because the Elites could hear every move they made. At least before they had Damien to make them practically undetectable, but now they didn't.

She looked around Sam's room, trying to find a shirt to put on quickly. Once Mercedes locked eyes with a black t-shirt lying on the floor in a corner she jumped up, ignoring's Sam's silent plea to stay put. If the Elite Council was here to kill them, she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her this way.

There was a loud explosion just as she was pulling on the shirt and sweats. Were those people bombing the house? Sam was in front of her almost instantaneously, guarding the view of the bedroom door. She didn't dare speak. He pushed them backwards until they were near the only window in his room. Sam looked at it purposefully. He wasn't expecting her to jump, was he?

She turned to look at the glass wall, wondering how he planned to get them out of there without making any noise. Whoever and whatever was downstairs could be upon them at any moment. Mercedes felt the weight of that hit her like a ton of bricks. Sam was half-immortal. There was no way he could fight off multiple Elites at once.

They could die at any moment.

What were they going to do?

Mercedes tried to think of any way around this situation. They needed to distract whoever was downstairs so they could escape. Sam's house was big, but it wasn't a mansion. There wasn't any time to waste. Whatever plan she was thinking of she'd have to go with.

Distraction…

She looked around the room, scanning his belongings. She could find something heavy to throw down the hall to make them think her and Sam were trying to escape in the opposite direction. That could give Sam just enough time to bust out through his window. But how would she tell him this without talking? How could she let him know her plan without endangering them any further?

They didn't have time to waste.

Without thinking, as if some age-old instinct was guiding her, she bit down into Sam's shoulder. He froze, muffling his gasp behind his hands. Mercedes didn't know what she was doing but she prayed it would work. She was trying to meld her thoughts with his.

Sam I have an idea. We need to distract them by throwing something down the hall so they'll think we're escaping from the opposite end of the house. They'll know immediately it's a trick but that'll give us enough time to jump out the window. It's not the best plan, but it's the only one I've got. I think it can work.

Mercedes released him from her mouth and prayed Sam somehow received the message. They only had mere seconds now before they needed to strike. Sam turned his head to her and nodded. Mercedes' shoulders dropped in relief. Quickly Sam grabbed his backpack from the floor and soundlessly moved across the room, about to open the door. Mercedes edged closer to the window, ready to pop the latch the moment Sam threw the bag.

As Sam turned the knob, many things happened at once. First, Sam threw the bag out the door and was by her side again at once. Second, the room next to them sounded like it was being blown apart. Third, pounding footsteps made their way upstairs. Fourth, as the intruders realized their mistake, Sam grabbed Mercedes and jumped through the window.

Pain was the first feeling that Mercedes registered as Sam crashed into the garden two stories below his window. She had landed on top of Sam and she scurried off of him, praying he was still alive and well. Sam nodded, slightly wincing, getting up and pulling Mercedes to her feet. They haphazardly ran the rest of the way to his jeep.

Miraculously Sam had his car keys in his jeans pocket, but unfortunately that was all he had. Mercedes moved faster than she ever had to the passenger's side of his jeep and threw herself in as Sam started the engine, jolting them backwards onto the neighborhood road. Mercedes had enough sense not to scream.

She wanted to do something, anything, but she couldn't text Damien because they left all of their belongings in his house. God knew they couldn't turn around to go back for it. Sam spun sharply in a circle, putting them in the proper direction of oncoming traffic. Mercedes flew into the dashboard, almost banging her head against the windshield. She needed to put her seatbelt on.

Mercedes secured herself, flinching as she felt the tender skin of her cut fingers stretch out. She must've cut them when Sam jumped out the window. What other injuries had she acquired during that leap? She didn't want to look. Instead she turned to Sam, her eyes widening in horror.

There were so many cuts along his shoulders and back, especially a particularly deep looking gash in his right arm. It looked like someone had used a razor to torture him. The sight of Sam hurt like this was making her panic. She was horrified, looking at him.

Mercedes tried to calm herself down. It wasn't as if Sam could console her. Even as they were getting further and further away from his house Mercedes knew she had to be quiet. They were lucky to have left that house with their lives.

Calm, down. He's going to be okay, calm down.

In the following silence she tried reasoning with herself. He had jumped out of a glass window shirtless and fell fifteen feet into a garden. He also took the brunt of the fall so Mercedes wouldn't have been severely hurt. Yet none of his bones were broken, and he didn't have a concussion. If anything Sam had suffered minor injuries.

They drove in silence, Sam going at least 40 miles above the speed limit. It wasn't until they were almost out of the city of before Sam started talking.

"We're going to Quinn's house. Damien knows something happened, and so do the rest of the Elites. They could probably sense the presence of the others the moment they came."

Mercedes was shocked. "So that was the Council back there?"

"No," He shook his head, "Just some flunkies they sent to smoke us out. If that was the Council we would've been dead."

"Then why didn't Damien come? If he knew others were coming for us?" She asked, confused. It didn't make sense. If his whole purpose of coming to earth was to help them, why wasn't he doing it?

"Because if he had saved us then those flunkies would've been able to track him back to Quinn's house. I don't have any ties left with the Elitist world but he does. That's why once we go off to war that's it. He just can't run off and go home." Sam said, wincing as some of his cuts started closing up. So that's what he meant by delayed healing. If it were Damien or Thea jumping out the window, they would've been good as new the moment they hit the garden.

"Is that another reason why you guys planned an ambush?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Mercedes sighed as reality finally caught up with her. The minutes or hours she thought they had was gone. There was no time left. The war had started.

Thank you to everyone that's reviewed, PM'd, and sent me tumblr messages in the ridiculous time I was gone. I tried replying to everyone, and sometimes I didn't because I was ashamed of my absence. I wanted to submit something before the New Year and I'm glad I did. I was on a bit of writer's block and I don't know if it comes across in the writing. I certainly hope not, though. Glee's finale was atrocious, and I just had to remind myself that the characters in this story are very loosely based on Glee. But anyway…

Samcedes love, samcex, and now the war's in full swing. Hope you're excited!

Happy belated holidays to everyone, and I hope you all have a happy New Year!

Please review!