Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it.
I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Chasing Christmas Eve.
Sam tried to bury himself in his work, but there was a heaviness to his daily grind that he knew from experience, was grief.
Only this time, on a whole new level.
He'd finally learned how to balance his life and then half of that life had walked away, leaving him out of whack all over again.
The gang tried to cheer him up, inviting him places, or bringing him his favorite junk food.
The guys even took him fishing, and though it had been freezing and Noah had gone swimming and nearly lost his nuts, it hadn't distracted him.
When they got back, he holed up and gave work his all...actually, what he could.
A few days later, Sam texted Christian.
Sam: I've got some shit figured out.
Christian: Awesome! So you went to New York after all.
Sam: What the hell are you talking about? I meant the battery and weight distribution for the drone project. I think I'm close. Meet me at Marin Headlands.
Christian: Dude, you're thinking about work on Christmas Eve?
Sam: Shit! I forgot.
Christian: Forgot what? Your brain or that it's Christmas Eve?
Sam: Marin Headlands. One hour.
An hour later, Sam stood at the top of Marin Headlands, with Christian just a few feet away.
The two of them braced against the heavy gusts, as they watched the drone fight its way through the wind like it wasn't even there.
Another heavy gust sent them both back a step and Christian's baseball cap flew off towards Kansas, as he looked down at his phone.
"That one was seventy-five miles per hour."
After that, they both went back to concentrating on the drone, until it was out of sight over the water.
They switched their gazes to the tablet on the controls, watching as the drone, several miles out now, kept going without draining the battery.
Twenty miles out and it still sent back both clear visuals and clear sound, as it executed a hold-your-breath maneuver beneath the bridge, landing on a buoy, being battered from all sides by the white-capped, frothy, unforgiving bay.
"Go farther," Christian said.
And Sam did.
"Forty miles," Christian said some time later.
And the drone, still relaying back a picture-perfect visual and sound, came to the bridge again, hovered, dropped down onto a buoy, and stayed there, perfectly balanced.
"Hold it there," Christian said, the two of them glued to the screen. "Wait for that incoming surge of waves. Do you see them?"
"Yeah," Sam said.
And they waited.
And watched, while the buoy was hit by wave after wave.
Twice the drone did as it'd been programmed to do when things got too rough...it ascended, hovered in place, and then lowered back down, once again maintaining its position.
"Not even a wobble," Sam said in marvel. They both looked at the tablet. "And the satellite reception held through the wind and water interference."
Which meant, if there had been a doctor on this end trying to see and speak to a patient on the other end, they would've been able to maintain their connection.
"Make the drop," Christian said.
Sam executed the command and the drone rolled out a weatherproof, impact-protected box, that was perfectly set on the tip of the buoy...a landing zone that was maybe six inches by six inches.
But the box landed right in the center, precisely weighted, so that even with the swells hitting the buoy, making it rise and fall, the box didn't shift.
Sam worked the controls and had the drone reverse the process, setting down and scooping the box back up.
"Still won't stop someone from stealing the meds," Christian said. "Or snatching the drone."
"We only make the drop after confirming by satellite, that there's an authorized receiver on site." Sam shook his head. "That's the best we've got...patented long-use battery and unfailing connection through our app."
Christian nodded and turned to Sam, triumph gleaming through his smile.
"You did it, man. Congratulations!"
Yeah, and satisfaction burned through him at the triumph.
Satisfaction, but not elation.
The last time he'd felt a surge of a positive emotion, had been when he'd been buried deep inside Mercedes, feeling like he'd found himself in her fathomless gaze, and in her warm arms.
"Storm's moving in," Christian said, tilting his face to the sky. "It's a good night to cozy up to a woman with some good brandy and catch a sappy movie on TV."
Sam arched a brow.
"Hey, women like sappy," Christian said.
Mercedes liked sappy. And the thought of cozying up to her in front of a blazing fire, wrapping her up close, as a movie made her tear up, comforting her, making those tears vanish...
"You ever been dumped?" he asked.
Christian laughed ruefully.
"Oh yeah."
"Did you chase after them?"
"The hot ones," Christian said.
Sam sighed.
"Listen," Christian said on a laugh. "Honestly? I can make a woman happy. Keeping her that way is another thing entirely and definitely not one of my superpowers. So I'm the wrong one to give advice."
Sam got that.
And he knew he'd made Mercedes happy.
Hanging out with her had been effortless. So was making her laugh.
And when he got her in bed, she'd absolutely communicated how he'd made her feel there. In fact, he could still feel the indentations of her nails in his ass.
"You could talk to Artie," Christian suggested. "He's managed to snag the most difficult woman who ever walked this earth. I mean, Kitty actually smiles now. Get him to tell you the secret to that and bottle it."
Sam wasn't any good at asking for help, but when they got back to his building, he found himself at Artie's office.
Artie's receptionist, shook her head.
"He's in, but he's...busy."
"Client meeting?" Sam asked.
"A Kitty 'meeting', " she said, putting meeting in air quotes. "She went in there half an hour ago and no one's seen hide nor hair of them since."
Just then, there was a muted sound, a sort of thunk, like something...or a bunch of somethings...falling off a desk.
Noah stuck his head out his office door and glared at the receptionist.
"I thought he ordered cork-board for the walls to add insulation, so I don't have to hear what's going on in there."
Mollie, who could hold her own with the kind of guys she worked for...which was to say, completely bad-ass...narrowed her eyes at his tone.
"It hasn't come in yet," she said, her own tone cool, with an added 'watch it' implied.
"Shit!" Noah said.
He vanished back into his office and then they heard him crank up some music, to window-rattling levels.
Sam left and hit the elevator.
When the doors opened to Wendy and Keith locked in an embrace, apparently checking each other's tonsils, he pivoted on a heel and took the stairs.
This sucked.
He'd just made an incredible breakthrough in work and he had no one to share it with.
He felt...empty.
He'd been alone before, plenty of times. In fact, he'd been alone for most of his life, but he'd never felt this hollow.
He strode through the courtyard, hell-bent on key lime pie, which surely would ease the gnawing pain in his gut, except it wasn't hunger and he knew it.
It was something he hadn't seen coming...heartache.
Halfway to the coffee shop, he caught sight of his grandpa sitting on a bench and staring into the fountain, like it held the answers to the mysteries of the universe.
Right away, he had a short argument with himself, which he lost.
Changing directions, he headed to the old man's side.
Steven didn't look over at Sam, he just kept staring into the water.
"Hear you screwed things up pretty good, boy genius."
"Who told you that?"
"I hear all. I know all," his grand pa said sagely.
His white hair was standing straight up in his best Christopher Lloyd imitation and in spite of the cold, he wore only a Deadhead T-shirt and tie-dyed Bermuda shorts.
Sam shook his head and shrugged out of his jacket, handing it over.
His grandpa pulled it on and smiled.
"Warm."
"I've given you a bunch of jackets and other warmer weather gear. Why aren't you wearing any of it?" Sam asked.
His grandpa shrugged, pulling the hood over his wild hair.
"Some of my friends don't have a you...or anyone for that matter."
Sam read between the lines on that one.
"So you gave it all away to keep them warm."
Steven didn't answer. Instead, he worked his way through the pockets of the jacket, locating a candy bar and grinning with happiness over the find.
At that, Sam gave up with the life lectures and stared at the fountain, just as his grandpa had been doing.
He was exhausted.
And...sad.
"You could try to fix it with her, you know."
Sam let out a low, mirthless laugh.
"You've got a helluva of a nerve lecturing me on my life. Look at yours."
"Exactly!" Steven said, for once his smile and good nature gone. "You're just like I was. My mind was always working ten steps ahead of everyone else. I shut everything and everyone out."
Sam had a feeling he wasn't going to like the rest of this conversation.
"I already know this. Dad and Grandma told me a long time ago."
"Told you what?"
"That you chose work over family. How after a bunch of grief from both places, you eventually decided you didn't need either one and just up and left one day."
His grandpa huffed.
"There's two sides to every story, you know."
"You have something to say, say it."
Steven nodded to the bench next to him for Sam to sit.
And he sat.
And for a few minutes they were silent. Then,
"You know I was an inventor like you," Steven finally said. "I had the brains for it. But not for the business side of things. I had a partner. Not as good a man as Christian, I might add. My partner stole ten patents out from right under my nose and I didn't even notice. Because, my ability to focus on the work came with thick blinders and everything else fell by the wayside."
Sam stared at him. "So you just left? Your life wasn't all about business. You walked away from your family too."
"I was broke. Broke and humiliated, and had nothing left to offer. I'd lost everything."
"Your family didn't care," Sam said. "All Grandma wanted was you, and she'd have taken whatever part of you she could get. She would've been willing to share you with work. Dad too."
Steven held his grandson's gaze and slowly nodded.
"I know that now. Because hindsight is twenty-twenty. What I don't know, is how you're sitting there judging me, but you're not believing it yourself. Because if you were believing it, you'd be in New York, chasing down the best thing that has ever happened to you."
"You can't chase love."
"Wrong," Steven said. "You can do whatever you want. Life is short, Sam. Don't waste it on stuff that doesn't matter."
"Are you saying family doesn't matter?"
"I'm saying that people make mistakes. So forgive. Love. Laugh."
"Now you sound like a slogan for the Hallmark Channel."
"Hey," his grandpa said. "I like the Hallmark Channel. It makes me smile, and you know what? You could use a little bit more of that."
Kitty came through the courtyard, holding a box.
She looked perfectly put together, the only thing giving away her earlier 'meeting' in Artie's office, being her overly flushed cheeks.
She stopped in front of Sam.
"No," he said.
"I didn't say anything yet," she said.
"You're going to tell me another woman sent me, yet another present."
She dropped the box in his lap.
"Another woman sent you, yet another present."
"Dammit, Kitty!"
"Open it."
He met her gaze and saw something there that had him sighing and taking the box.
In it was a duffel bag, much like his old one, but not battered and abused...filled with all his favorite candy bars...the jumbo sizes.
His throat tightened but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest.
"Wow!" Kitty said. "The perfect gift for you. I've been trying to get you to replace your piece-of-shit duffel bag for a year."
Steven reached into the box and took a candy bar in each hand.
"You're not nearly as smart as you pretend to be, if you don't go after that girl."
"That might just be the first thing you and I agree on," Kitty told Steven.
He beamed at her.
"See, I've finally worn you down with my charm." He clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Time to use yours, boy, and go get our girl."
Sam rose to his feet.
"I need some air."
"We're already outside," his grandpa said.
But Sam kept walking, heading towards the street and his truck.
He pulled out his phone and called Mercedes.
He missed her.
He loved her.
And dammit, he wasn't just going to let her go.
At least not until he told her.
Mercedes didn't answer.
And Sam was still holding his phone, when it vibrated with an incoming call.
His heart leapt, thinking it was Mercedes, but it was just Fergus.
"It's Christmas Eve," his friend opened with.
"Yeah?" Sam said, not feeling the spirit in the least. "So?"
"So...you're supposed to be at the pub."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because, that's what we do on Christmas Eve. We all hang out together. Hurry, I need you for something first."
"What?"
Fergus sighed.
"Just get your ass over here."
Sam blew out a breath.
"Fine."
"Now, right?" Fergus asked.
"Jesus, you're out of control, but yeah, whatever."
Sam was nearly at the pub when his phone rang again and he answered without looking at the screen.
"I said I'm coming. I'm fucking coming!"
"Sam?"
He nearly tripped over his own feet at the sound of Mercedes' voice in his ear.
Which reminded him that he was a complete dumb-ass, who wasn't supposed to answer his phone without looking at the screen first.
But in this case, he was glad...so very glad he had.
Just the sound of her had him in knots, in the very best of ways.
"Hey," he said, softening his voice. "Sorry, I thought it was Fergus."
"And I'm sorry I missed your call." Mercedes paused. "It's good to hear you, Sam."
He stopped at the door of the pub, stilled by a rush of love and heat and hunger.
He closed his eyes.
"Same."
"Where are you?" she asked.
He walked into the pub, his phone still up to his ear as he took in the room.
The place was lit up for the holiday, with soft white twinkling lights strung from the rafters and in and around the hanging lanterns, giving off a warm holiday glow, that might have reached him, if his heart wasn't shrunk to the size of the Grinch's.
Fergus and Shamus always closed on Christmas Eve.
But it was opened for their gang only.
They always had dinner and drinks together and toasted the holiday in their own way...usually with a vicious, high-stakes dart tournament and then a round of pool.
"I'm in the pub," he said to Mercedes.
'And I wish you were here,' he thought.
And it was like the wanting conjured her up. He could feel her.
"Me too," she said in surround sound, both in his ear and from behind him.
Sam whipped around and, his phone still at his ear, and saw Mercedes about twenty steps away, at the bar.
Their eyes locked and it was all he could do to breathe.
She started towards him and he could feel his entire face lighting up.
She was in a little black dress and some serious black boots, and his heart wasn't the only thing that took notice.
A warm smile curved her lips as her brown gaze ate him up, much the same way his green one was doing to her.
"I wanted to give you your Christmas present in person," she said.
"You already sent me one," he said inanely, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.
"That one was a decoy. This one's bigger." She grinned. "And hopefully better."
"What is it?" he asked.
She pulled her phone from her ear, tossed it to the bar...and pointed to herself.
Stay safe!