Thank you for your continued interest. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own It Had to be You.

Mercedes was still in White Center with her mom and sister at ten that night, when she got a phone call from Andrea.

"She's gone off the deep end," Andrea said.

"Who?" Mercedes asked.

"You Know Who," Andrea said cryptically. "She Who Shall Not Be Named. I was working late, and she tried to sneak into Brody's office, resulting in the two of us, scaring the crap out of each other. So she got irritated at me and left. I don't know why I'm calling you with this."

"Because, even though you have perfect hair...which is annoying...you're a good person," Mercedes offered, as she chewed on her lower lip, trying to imagine, what Bethany Reyes had wanted to do in Brody's office.

Except, she didn't have to imagine.

She knew.

Bethany was going to put the money back.

"Did she say where she was going next?" Mercedes asked Andrea.

"No."

"Is Brody still at his team-building fishing trip?"

"Yes. You think I should call him?"

"What would you say?"

There was a pause.

"Good point," Andrea said. "I'm going home now. I put in my resignation today. I realize it's a Sunday night, but the powers that be, will get it in the morning."

"Wait...what?" Mercedes asked, surprise coloring her tone.

"Yeah. I'm switching gears. I don't know what gear yet, but I'll get there."

"Wow! Are you sure...I mean...really really sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure. I think it's time for me to cut all ties."

"Okay. Well, for what it's worth, thanks for the call."

"Yeah, and by the way, we're even now."

"Oh, not hardly," Mercedes said.

"Really? How's your hair?"

Mercedes looked in the mirror over her mom's faux antique table. Her hair looked smooth and shiny.

"Good," she admitted.

"Well then, we're completely even," Andrea said, and hung up.

Mercedes kissed her mom and sister goodbye and headed back to town.

Bethany was on the move with the money, and she was going on the move too...to catch her.

The highway was narrow and windy and took a lot of concentration to drive at night.

This was good, because it gave her no time to think about the other situation in her life, involving a certain green eyed hunk named...Sam Evans.

Or... that he'd come to see her.

Or that he'd dropped the L-bomb.

Except, he hadn't...really

And she wished he had...so that she could say it too.

She wanted to knock her head on the steering wheel, but the road was badly rutted, and she was upset...not suicidal.

So she occupied herself, by replaying the conversation with Andrea in her head.

Yes, she would've liked to call Sam, but he was long gone by now. And because that gave her a quick stab to the chest, she called Marley.

"Hey," Marley said, sounding worried. "It's late, you okay?"

"To be determined later."

"Uh-oh."

"Yeah. Listen, are you up for a little..." Mercedes grimaced. "B and E?"

"Always." Marley laughed, then got serious. "Wait. I thought you were kidding. Are you? Kidding?"

"No," Mercedes replied, then filled her in on Andrea's call and how she intended to go search Brody's place for the money.

"Aren't you dating a certain hot detective?" Marley asked.

"No."

"No?"

"Long story," Mercedes said. "You in or not?"

Marley blew out a breath.

"What the hell. There's nothing on TV. You don't think Bethany will go back to the office, now that Andrea has left?"

"No, I don't think she'll risk it again. I think she's going to Brody's to dump the money. It's just a feeling."

At that, they both arranged to meet at eleven thirty, to carry out a little sleuthing.

Mercedes turned her phone over, so she didn't have to look at the lit-up screen, which revealed no missed texts or phone calls.

This was her own doing, of course.

But though she'd managed to get her heart broken, she refused to have her spirit broken too.

Hell no! She was on a mission to fix her crazy life.

She'd worry about her heart later.

She parked, turning to look, as Marley slipped into her truck and handed her a brown bag.

Mercedes peeked in the bag.

"What are these?"

"B and E clothes. All black."

She pulled out black jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, then eyed the taller, leaner woman doubtfully.

"I hope these are your fat jeans," she said.

"Just strip. I've got an hour before I have to get back, to give grandma her meds," Marley said.

Mercedes pulled off her clothes and shimmied into the ones Marley had brought, which wasn't so easy behind the steering wheel.

"Cute undies," Marley said.

"Stop looking."

"Hard to miss the neon-pink boy shorts and demi bra. Victoria's Secret?"

"Fifty-percent-off sale."

"Nice," Marley said. "The bra makes your boobs look perky."

'Yeah, well, that was a complete waste, given how my day went,' Mercedes thought.

'Or how my love life is going,' she thought further.

"So...what's the plan here?" Marley asked.

"We wait for Bethany," Mercedes said. "I think she's going to come here to Brody's house."

'And hopefully not in black leather.'

"It'll feel safer to her, than risking the office again," Mercedes added.

Marley eyed Brody's dark house.

"Maybe she's already been, or she's there right now. We should call her, except, I don't know her number."

Just then, Mercedes had an "Aha!" moment and tore through her purse for the book from Kurt.

"You're going to read?" Marley asked, stupefied. "Now?"

"No, I think I have her number."

'Come on, Kurt, come through for me...'

Mercedes flipped through the pages, hoping and praying.

As an interior designer, Bethany had ordered lots of flowers from Fresh Florals, and indeed, she had her own page with preferences and contact information.

Mercedes pulled out her cell phone and punched in the woman's cell number.

"What are you going to do if she answers?" Marley asked.

Mercedes shrugged. She wasn't quite sure, until indeed, Bethany answered.

"Hello? Who's this?"

"Mercedes Jones. I was just calling, to see if you really wanted this delivery at midnight."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bethany asked.

"Well, Kurt left me directions, to make a delivery for you."

At the lie, Mercedes looked at Marley, who covered her mouth with her hand, to hold back her horrified laughter.

"I don't have a delivery on order right now," Bethany said, sounding like she was on the move.

Mercedes strained her ear to the phone.

Was that a horn she'd heard?

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Where are you right now, because I can bring it by and..."

"It's late," Bethany said.

'Definitely in a car,' Mercedes thought, realizing there was a radio playing softly and an engine running.

"Oh. Right," she said. "Well, okay, then. So...how about a drink? Or a late-night brownie at the café?"

There was a loud click, making Mercedes wince and slide her phone away.

"She didn't want to talk. Nor did she mention where she was. But I'd bet my last dollar, she was in her car," Mercedes stated.

"Maybe she's on her way," Marley said, hopefully.

"Or she's on her way back to the office," Mercedes said. "Hey..." she peered out the window, looking down the street to the Lexus parked in front of Brody's place.

"That's Brody's car. He must have gotten a ride with the other guys to their fishing thing." She turned to Marley. "Let's peek inside."

"You have his keys?"

"I know his code."

The girls out into the dark night, in their black B&E gear and sneaked up on the car.

It took Mercedes all of five seconds, to punch in the code.

"I'm getting into the back," she said, eyeing the gym bag on the seat.

So she opened the back passenger door and quickly turned off the dome light, to avoid highlighting her activities to any neighbors who might still be up.

Marley, on the other hand, got into the front seat and closed the door, though Mercedes didn't shut hers, because she wanted to be able to hear someone coming up on them.

"I've got his gym bag," Mercedes said. "I bet my iPad's in here. He stole it."

"Seriously?"

"Mine works better, and he was always borrowing it. I want it back."

Marley flicked on a penlight and twisted to shine it, so that Mercedes could see.

"Nice," Mercedes said.

"I like to be prepared."

"You have any candy in there? You know, in the name of preparation?"

At that, Marley handed her a lollipop.

"I love you," Mercedes said.

Then, she popped the lollipop in her mouth and unzipped the gym bag.

In unison, they both wrinkled their noses and jerked back from the odor of stinky guy, emitting from the bag.

"Ew," Marley said. "Guys are disgusting."

Mercedes pulled the lollipop out of her mouth and stared into the bag.

How badly did she want her iPad?

Enough to move the stinky clothes around?

"Just do it," Marley said.

"You sound like a Nike commercial. I need more light."

Marley leaned closer with the light.

"Hey," she said.

"What?"

Mercedes instinctively checked out the windows to see if anyone was coming.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You tell me. You've been crying."

Mercedes sighed.

"Forget it."

"Oh, crap!" Marley said. "What did he do?"

"Who?" Mercedes asked.

"Sam."

That her best friend had assumed, Sam had blown it, brought a warm fuzzy feeling to Mercedes' heart, even as she laughed without much mirth.

"It was me," she admitted. "He's got this way of making me feel like the prettiest, smartest, most wonderful woman on earth," she said.

"That bastard."

"No, you don't understand." Mercedes hesitated. "I fell for him. And it'd never work between us."

"Why not?" Marley asked.

"Why not?" Mercedes stared at her. "Have you seen him? He's totally out of my league."

"Bullshit!" Marley said.

"And he's law enforcement," Mercedes helpfully added.

"So, he's a hot guy with a gun." Marley shrugged. "Still not seeing the problem here."

"My people don't go out with law enforcement," Mercedes said, "It just isn't done."

Marley snorted.

"Your people? You mean women? Because, honey, women in general, melt over guys like Sam Evans."

"Yes," Mercedes said, diving into the unpleasant task at hand, searching Brody's bag. "But you can't make him melt back, now can you?"

Marley paused at that. And then,

"He doesn't feel the same as you?" she asked, sounding quite up in arms over this possibility.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure he does," Mercedes said, "But he told me right up front, way early, he wasn't going to get involved. I wasn't going to get involved either, so there's no one to blame here, but my inability to follow my own decree."

"Men suck."

"I am in complete agreement. And look," Mercedes said, as she pulled her iPad from a side pocket of Brody's gym bag.

"Wow! He's perfect for politics. He's got that lying, cheating, stealing thing down."

"Are you keeping a lookout?" Mercedes asked.

"Yeah...oh shit!"

This was immediately followed by the back door opening, and a big body sliding in next to Mercedes.

"Yeah, oh shit," said a low male voice. A low, unbearably familiar voice, and both girls squeaked.

After a few hairy seconds, Mercedes whisper-shouted,

"Sam!"

Then took a breath, and placed her hand to her chest.

"I need the both of you to go back to your vehicles and drive away," he said in his cop voice.

Mercedes blinked.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Sam slid a look at Marley.

"Give us a second?"

"No," she said.

"Excuse me?" he asked, voice still low and authoritative, but with a hint of disbelief.

Women probably didn't tell him 'no' very often, Marley internally surmised.

"No," she said again, "I'm not deserting Mercedes."

Sam softened slightly.

"You aren't deserting her," he said. "You wouldn't. But I need a moment with her, alone."

Marley looked at Mercedes questioningly.

She nodded her assurance, and at that, Marley started to get out of the Lexus, but then whirled back and put a finger right in Sam's face.

"I'm watching you," she said.

Sam didn't laugh.

Neither did he get pissed off.

Instead, he nodded seriously and touched the tip of his finger to Marley's.

"I'm watching me too, Marley. It's okay. It's going to be okay."

She stared at him for another moment, then nodded and said,

"See that it is."

Mercedes, to her credit, had no idea what to make of that exchange, but apparently, Marley didn't have the same problem.

She flashed Sam a small, but much warmer, smile and then vanished into the night.

In the dark interior of the car, Mercedes closed her eyes.

"You didn't go. Why didn't you go?" she asked.

"I couldn't leave you."

"Oh."

'Oh damn, that was good,' she thought, afterwards.

"Sam..."

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Andrea called. Bethany has gone off the deep end. I think she'll come here."

"I told you she was under surveillance."

He had indeed told her that.

Why hadn't she remembered?

"Listen to me, Mercedes," he said, all cop again. "Brody's car, house, and office, are under surveillance too. Half the police department is staking out Town Hall. Bethany has already been there. Also, Andrea has finally left work for the night, and Sheriff Luke is covering all the bases. We've also got someone in place in Brody's backyard. And, as you can see...no one is home."

"So...you want me to go."

"I want you out of here, yes. I want you safe. Bethany is moving the money tonight. We're sure of it. She needs to get rid of it, since the word is out about an arrest, first thing in the morning."

Mercedes nodded.

She understood all that, but she didn't move. She couldn't take her gaze off Sam's face.

"I really thought you were gone," she said softly. "Oh God Sam! Your job. Your review..."

"It'll have to wait." He paused. "Or not. Mercedes..." he said very seriously, "I know that the men in your life have fucked you over. And I promised myself that I wouldn't do that to you. I didn't want to get involved..."

She tried not to react to that blow.

"I know," she said.

"But things change."

She tried to see his expression, but with little to no ambient light in the backseat, she couldn't quite catch it.

"Your job...and your life, is in San Francisco," she said.

"As it turns out, only the job," he said. "And it also turns out, that I'm not just the job."

Mercedes wasn't sure what that meant.

And she also wasn't sure, whether to accept the odd surge of hope, that had suddenly blocked her throat or go with the panic licking at her gut.

She worked at getting herself calm and wasn't entirely there yet, when she said,

"I'm sorry I said you're distant and that you don't feel. I shouldn't have. I picked a fight, because I was hurt."

"I know. But you did mean it, and that's okay. It's true. And I want you to say what you mean, always. I can take it." Sam paused. "We can take it. We're tougher than words, the two of us."

Mercedes' heart stopped and then started again, in staccato beat.

"Sam..." she started, but the front passenger door jerked open and cool night air rushed in...so did a figure.

A female figure, but not Marley.

Sam squeezed Mercedes' thigh, but she didn't need the warning to be quiet.

There was a fiddling in the front seat and a very small beam of light.

The woman had a flashlight.

It was Bethany.

"Shit!" she muttered, when she couldn't get the glove compartment open. "Shit, shit, shit..." Then, the thing suddenly opened and some stuff fell out.

"God, he is such a slob," she said, dumping everything in the glove box to the floorboards.

Then, she began to stuff something back in there, from the duffel bag in her lap.

It was the missing money...

Stay safe!