Thank you for your interest and support. I appreciate it. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Checkmate.

"Come on, come on, come on," Mercedes mumbled, as she waited for the only traffic light in town to turn green.

Just as it did, she sighed with immense relief which ended abruptly, when Mrs. Fitzpatrick, New Hampshire's oldest citizen, took the green light as the signal to walk across the street, using her walker.

Mercedes' eyes shot to the dimly lit clock on her dashboard and she may have whimpered. She was five minutes late!

She could not be five minutes late.

Not today.

Normally it would just irritate her, but today it felt like it was a matter of life or death.

She needed Mrs. Fitzpatrick to haul her ninety-six year old ass across the street before the light turned red.

She tapped her thumbs against the steering wheel impatiently, staring intently at the old lady in an effort to will her to move quickly.

But it only seemed to draw the woman's attention. Because she stopped right in front of Mercedes' new...well new to her...Jeep and smiled as she waved to her.

Fighting back the urge to gesture for the older woman to move on, Mercedes forced a smile and waved back.

And after a few seconds, Mrs. Fitzpatrick slowly turned back around and raised her walker, set it a few inches in front of her and shuffled.

Mercedes watched as she raised the walker again, gained six more inches...and shuffled.

The light turned red.

She groaned, even as the old woman turned and sent her another friendly wave. Then debated getting out of the car and helping her. But she knew that would only encourage the old lady to stop in the middle of the street and brag about her great grandchildren.

All thirty-four of them.

Two red lights and three green lights later, Mrs. Fitzpatrick was safely across the street and Mercedes was gunning it.

Two minutes later, she was in front of Mc. Mann's main office on Center Street, waiting for a minivan full of kids driven by a woman, to pull out of her spot.

The woman looked like she was going to snap...probably because of the noise the kids were making...singing 'The wheels on the Bus' at the top of their voices.

Mercedes could only shake her head in sympathy.

As she waited for the van to pull out, she put on her left blinker, officially declaring her claim on the spot while she took the opportunity to calm her breathing.

It probably wouldn't look professional to go in there sweating and panting like a woman who needed a cocaine fix, although she really could go for a large cup of hot cocoa, her one true weakness.

'Hmmm...I really could go for a nice large mug of creamy hot chocolate with a large spoonful of fluff in it. Yummy, maybe after this I could...'

Her thoughts were cut off when she realized that her spot was free and clear.

Sighing contently, she started to turn into the space when a black pickup truck cut her off and took the spot.

Mercedes could only stare for a moment, shocked that someone had ignored the universally agreed upon parking spot rule of the blinker.

Perhaps he hadn't seen her blinker?

All thoughts about this being a simple mistake flew out of her head when the man stepped out of the truck.

She ground her teeth as she pressed the down button for the passenger side window.

Once it was down, she politely asked the bane of her existence to move his truck.

"Move your ass, Evans! That's my spot!"

The bastard smiled.

Smiled!

"Oh, is this your spot?" he asked, feigning innocence, but Mercedes knew the man was anything but innocent. He was a bad boy, even his looks gave him away. And that damn smile of his let him get away with everything.

The life ruining bastard!

"Yes!" she snapped. "You know damn well that's my spot! Why else would I have been sitting here waiting with my blinker on?"

He sighed dramatically.

"Yes, I did see that now that you mention it."

"Then move!" she said, not caring about playing their usual game of pissing each other off today. She had a huge contract to sign, damn it!

He nodded as he fixed his tie and leaned into the cab of his truck. And Mercedes tapped her thumbs against the steering wheel, once again happy that the man had enough sense to skip the bullshit this morning.

Maybe today would be...

"I'll move it..." he started, pausing as he stepped away from his truck with a folder in his hand and shut his door, "...right after my meeting."

Mercedes' mouth dropped as the life ruining bastard walked away laughing.

"Ah, good times," Sam said, sighing happily as he stepped into the office.

Taunting a woman shouldn't be so much fun, but it was. It always had been where Mercedes was concerned.

Hell, he'd even enjoyed screwing with her back in preschool.

Sure there were about a dozen other little girls he could've tormented with paint, paste and pushed down into the mud, but why bother, when there was always little Mercedes Jones around?

The little chocolate cupcake was just asking for it with those two little pigtails, tomboy clothes and her know-it-all attitude.

As the school bully, it had been his job to make her life a living hell and he had taken his job quite seriously all those years ago.

Hell, he still did.

There was just something about screwing with her that brought a smile to his face.

That was probably why three years ago, he bought the run down house right next to hers.

Sure there were other fixer-uppers that he could've bought for half the price, but none of them would've provided him with the entertainment of living right next door to Mercedes Jones.

He ran a hand over the back of his head, smoothing down his hair as he headed towards the little blushing secretary that was trying to pretend that she wasn't watching his approach.

"Good morning, Candace, how are you this morning?" he asked in his most charming tone.

She nodded, shyly averting her eyes.

"I'm well, thanks. Mr. Mc. Mann will be with you in a few minutes, Mr. Evans. Please have a seat and help yourself to some coffee," she mumbled quietly.

She gestured to the small waiting area with three chairs lined up against the wall and a gourmet coffee table with one of those insanely expensive coffee machines that used mini cups of ground coffee to make single servings.

Sam winked.

"Thank you."

He walked over to the waiting area and decided a good cup of coffee would help settle his nerves, not that he doubted that he was getting the job.

There was no doubt that he would get it this time.

He'd put in the time and had his work to back him up. No one within a hundred miles could match the price.

This job was as good as his.

He was reaching for a single cup serving of gourmet French vanilla coffee, when a single brown serving cup caught his eye.

Picking it up, he couldn't help but smile as he held what appeared to be the last serving of gourmet hot chocolate in his hand.

Not that he was particularly fond of hot chocolate, he really wasn't, but he knew a certain someone that was...

A minute later he was sitting down with a cup of frothy hot chocolate in his hand. It wasn't as good as coffee, but then again, it wasn't too bad.

He placed his folder on the empty chair next to him and sipped his drink while he waited.

He didn't even bother trying to hide his amusement when Mercedes half stumbled into the reception area.

She quickly made a beeline for Candace's desk, almost falling over seven times in the process.

Why she tried to walk in those high heels he would never know. She was short...shorter than most women in town...and that meant her legs were also short.

He, on the other hand was tall and had a good foot...or more...on her. She really did need heels...not as high as these though...but he rather liked what they did for those beautiful brown legs of hers.

They made them look even sexier.

He would never admit it, but she looked good...really good...in that little business outfit that accentuated her ass and breasts. And he would bet his life that her breasts were size D's.

She was easily the sexiest woman that he'd ever seen.

He noticed that she wore a little bit of makeup today...

'Interesting...'

It suited her. It brought out her pretty eyes and the kissable soft skin of her cheeks.

He especially liked her hair...always had...even when it used to be pulled up into pigtails.

There was just something about her wavy black hair with caramel highlights and those gorgeous brown eyes that drove him nuts.

Sam watched as Candace informed Mercedes that Mr. Mc. Mann was running behind time and gestured for her to sit in the waiting area.

She didn't look happy about the wait, but she looked decidedly pissed off seconds later when she spotted him.

Her eyes narrowed on him as she walked and stumbled a bit, over to the complimentary table, all while glaring at him.

He didn't bat an eyelash, just decidedly continued sipping his cocoa, watching as she searched for her precious hot chocolate.

"Candace, is there any hot chocolate?" the little addict asked, sounding anxious for a fix.

"Sorry, hun, if it's not there, then we don't have it."

Sighing, she nodded and carefully walked the ten steps over to the waiting area only to stop abruptly and glare at him.

"Is something wrong, Mercedes?" Sam asked, acting as if he didn't know what had her panties in a twist.

"You're sitting in the middle," she bit out.

He made a show of looking down around where he sat and then at each chair beside him.

"Hmm, would you look at that, so I am," he said in an amused tone.

"Move!"

She gestured impatiently at him.

But he only sighed and took a sip of his cocoa.

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't?" she demanded.

"Both."

Mercedes glared at him, then at each empty chair before looking around desperately for another chair.

When she couldn't find any way to distance herself from him...which he knew she was dying to do...she sat down as far as she could in the chair to the right of him.

Sam smirked, than sighed loud and long to annoy the shit out of her. After that, he stretched his right arm out and then dropped it along the back of her chair.

"Do you mind?" she asked, looking pointedly at his arm.

He shook his head.

"No, not really."

Mercedes opened her mouth...probably to tell him off for the millionth time...shut it and shook her head, muttering,

"I don't have time for games today."

That was too bad, because he rather enjoyed their little battles. He made a show of sipping his drink.

"Mmmm, that's good cocoa."

That was all it took. Her eyes snapped to him, then at his cup.

"You took the last hot cocoa?"

"Uh huh," he answered, taking another sip.

She nodded slowly.

"I see."

"I'm sure you do."

Just as he went to take another sip of that rather creamy cup of hot cocoa, that tasted better and better with each passing second, she jabbed him in the side with a finger, the same time she made a grab for his cup.

He tried to pull the cup away, but she just dug that damn finger harder into his side.

"Shit! That really hurt!" he said.

And she dug harder.

Deciding that it was better to give up the cocoa than to let her make his eyes tear up, Sam released the cup. She twisted her finger harder into his side, digging deep for good measure before backing off.

Glaring at her, he rubbed his side while she happily sipped his cocoa.

'Damn!' he thought.

There were a lot of things in life he regretted and right now, showing her that little trick in sixth grade when she wouldn't let him cut her in the lunch line was one of them.

He winced as he rubbed the sore spot. It sure looked like she'd perfected that move.

"I spit in that you know," Sam lied.

She simply shrugged when most women would've probably screeched, gagged and shoved it back at him.

Not Mercedes Jones.

She even made a show of taking a huge sip of the cocoa.

"I think I've been immune to your germs since the ninth grade," she pointed out, making him smile.

Ah, good times...

For six months he'd found ways to spit in her food and drinks without her or her little band of geeks, nerds and dorks finding out about it.

His friends did their part by distracting her so that he could break into her locker and they also took pictures of the act.

Once, on her birthday, he took the opportunity to place all those lovely pictures into a small box, gift wrapped it, and placed it inside her locker.

Then he leaned against the locker across from hers and waited with all his friends and half the school for her to open it.

Everyone watched as she opened her locker, waiting for her reaction.

She looked surprised at first to find a present in her locker and of course that look turned to horror as she flipped through the pictures.

As hard as she tried that day, she just couldn't hide the little gag sound she'd made.

And everyone laughed.

Sam remembered standing there, cocky as hell, waiting for her to finally react like a girl and cry. Instead, she'd calmly put the pictures back into the box, gagged louder, and returned it to her locker.

Then, she'd grabbed the lunch that he and all his friends spit in and walked over to him.

Instead of bawling and screaming at him or even threatening to tell her daddy and her rather large brothers about what he did, she kneed him in the balls.

And when he was down on the ground she forced half her lunch down his throat, while his friends fell over themselves laughing their asses off.

But it had been worth it.

Even the month of detention that followed couldn't take away the joy he'd received from that little prank...

"Mr. Evans? Miss Jones? Mr. Mc. Mann is ready for you."

As I mentioned on the other story The Boss and The Assistant, I lost two distant relatives to Covid on Saturday and Sunday respectively. They were mother and daughter and we were all close.

Sleep in peace dear Roslyn and Karon.

Stay safe friends!