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

"What are you doing?"

Mercedes didn't bother looking at Sam while she said,

"Working. What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're getting in the way of my men."

She stopped what she was doing and looked pointedly around the large roof, where four of her brothers were checking for weak spots and marking the areas.

They were going to have to replace the entire thing thanks to poor upkeep, but they liked to know which spots to avoid when it came time to rip it off.

They'd learned that lesson years ago when they still worked for their father, when Benjamin hadn't marked the roof before he started working.

He'd fallen through the roof, broken his arm and then got his ass chewed out by their father in the ER while his arm was being set in a cast, scaring off more than a few nurses.

Her brother had sat there quietly, because he knew he'd messed up. And he didn't even complain when their father made him do all the grunt work for the next three months.

It was a job they all hated and worked their asses off to avoid. Because once you got grunt work assignment you knew that you had royally screwed up.

So they all worked hard to avoid grunt work.

Real hard.

"Exactly how am I getting in the way of your men if none of them are up here?" Mercedes asked, leaning over to mark a weak spot in the roof.

She was using a can of orange spray paint to do the marking.

Sam glared at her as he stepped up onto the arched roof. She looked up and only cocked a brow as she looked him over.

She took in his baby blue shirt with the dark blue tie pulled loose at the neck, his dark tan cargo khakis and finally, his black leather hiking boots.

'Only a man as hot as him would be able to pull off that look,' she thought with disgust, as she turned her attention back to marking the roof.

"Because they should be up here doing this, not you," he said, stepping onto the roof and gesturing for her to get the hell off.

But with an amused snort, she continued to check the roof.

"And what exactly should I be doing?" Mercedes asked, her gaze back on the roof as she tapped her blunt metal pole against another spot.

"Getting my coffee. What else?" Sam asked in that cocky tone that always rubbed her the wrong way.

And worst of all, he said it in front of her brothers.

She looked up, hoping that they were getting offended on her behalf and moving to throw his ass off the roof.

But of course, they weren't. They only let out amused chuckles as they continued to work.

For a moment, Mercedes glared at them, wondering not for the first time, why they hadn't beaten the crap out of him for her, since they beat everyone else up.

In the past, whenever she'd asked them about that, they would either shrug it off like it was nothing or tell her that she was handling him well enough on her own.

She secretly suspected that they said and did nothing, because they got a kick out of this sick and twisted rivalry she had going on with Sam.

Even her own father, who hated it when a man looked at her the wrong way, never mind made her life a living hell, said and did nothing.

There was something seriously wrong with the men in her life, she decided as she marked off another area, shaking her head and agreeing with her own assessment.

When Mercedes stood up, she nearly jumped off the roof, but Sam's grip on her hips kept her firmly in place.

That was good, because it meant that it wouldn't take a year to heal in order to kick his ass.

She could do it right now.

She moved to turn and let him have it, but he held her firmly in place.

"You don't belong up here, Mercedes," he said, keeping his tone light even as his hands tightened on her hips.

"I'm not fetching your coffee, Sam, so drop it," she replied, taking a step forward only to have the jerk move with her.

"I don't care what you do as long as you get off the roof and let some of my men get up here," he said, keeping his hold on her, even as they continued to move forward with her ramming the end of her pole against the roof with a little more force than necessary.

When she found a soft spot she bent without thinking and placed her bottom firmly against the front of his pants.

But as soon as the action registered in her mind she stood up quickly, even as she felt intense heat creeping into her face.

Sam's soft amused chuckle in her ear made the situation worse. Now her entire body grew hot.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" she asked him as she tried to ignore just how good the brief contact had felt.

"Well, I do have about a hundred things that need my attention, but at the moment, I'm stuck trying to get a pain in the butt woman off the roof so that my men can get to work. As soon as she moves her sweet ass I'll be out of your hair," he explained, sounding more amused.

"I'm not going anywhere," Mercedes said stubbornly as she bent, making sure that she bumped into him this time...hard, while she marked off another area.

Seconds later, she smiled, feeling pleased by his pained grunt.

"Then neither am I," Sam bit out tightly when she stood up.

She shrugged and focused on her work, trying not to think about the large hands at her waist.

"Suit yourself."

It was a difficult task, but somehow, Mercedes made it through the next hour without tossing Sam over the side of the roof.

When they were done, he insisted that he go down the ladder first and waited patiently until she moved to join him on said ladder.

"Careful," he said, making her roll her brown eyes.

She chanced a glance at her brothers and immediately threw them a glare. But they nearly fell off the roof laughing their asses off at her.

It would serve them right, she decided as she was forced to move at Sam's snail's pace down the ladder.

She rolled her eyes again, this time at the sexy jerk who thought she was fragile the way he was leading her down the ladder.

And the moment they reached the bottom, he actually had the nerve to place his hands on her hips as if she needed the help.

She'd been seven when her last babysitter quit...after a rather unfortunate incident at the playground between her, Sam and the Watkins' dog, Snowy.

And since no one else in town had the guts to watch her, her father had decided that she was more than old enough to work...

He'd started her off with grunt work and hadn't taken it easy on her because she was only seven...or a girl.

Now, the one man that treated her like a woman, was the one that made her wish she was a man so that she could kick his ass.

Ever since she could remember, she'd been treated like one of the guys. Even her boyfriends treated her like one of the guys.

They never once told her that she was pretty, bought her flowers or chocolates or did a hundred things that other women took for granted.

Whenever they took her out, it was to a fast food joint or the bar. As for movies, they always picked actions or horror flicks, never once asking her if she wanted to see whatever romantic comedy was playing.

She didn't actually, but it would've been nice to have been asked.

For gifts, she always got tools and nothing but tools. Yes, she liked tools, but she could've gone for some sexy lingerie or something equally as feminine.

And the fact that Sam seemed to be the only man on earth that remembered that she was a woman, even as he tortured the hell out of her, annoyed her.

She didn't want him to notice her and she sure as hell didn't like the fact that on some level she liked it.

She hated him and always would.

"Where the hell are you going now?" Sam demanded as Mercedes shoved him away.

"I need a drink," she bit out between clenched teeth, heading for her trailer.

"Hold up, we need to talk," he said, but she didn't stop.

Oh no, she moved faster.

If she didn't get a drink soon she was going to do something stupid like strangle the annoying man.

Then she'd go to jail and lose the contract on Sunset View Manor.

So as good as she knew it would feel to do it, she couldn't. She'd waited too long for this project and she wasn't about to let him wreck it.

By the time Mercedes reached her trailer, her nerves were frayed and she was trembling with the need to lay into Sam's fine ass.

She stormed into the trailer, ignoring her secretary Jason's questioning look as he spoke on the phone...probably handling one of the hundreds of boring things that she hated doing.

She walked over to the coffee cart that she paid him well to keep stocked and turned on the electric kettle.

Then she scooped out a large amount of hot cocoa mix and placed it in a super-sized coffee cup.

Once it looked like enough, she opened the small fridge and grabbed a small carton of coffee creamer and poured just a dab into the cup.

She mixed the cocoa powder until the mixture was nice and creamy. Then she added a spoonful of fluff and mixed it until it was blended.

When it was done she stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at the electric kettle, silently urging it to hurry up.

"I hate to tell you this since you're already in a bad mood," Jason said as he stood up and approached her.

"I'm not in a bad mood," she said tightly, narrowing her eyes on the kettle. She was making all sorts of mental promises to sell it for scrap metal, if it didn't hurry the hell up so that she could make her precious and much needed hot cocoa.

"Then why are you having a large hot chocolate during a work day, hmm?" he asked, stepping beside her.

He had an amused smirk that she could've happily bitch slapped off his face at the moment, but to her surprise, he reached over...and plugged the kettle in.

Mercedes clenched her jaw tighter and fought against letting out a frustrated scream.

Jason wisely said nothing about the kettle as he leaned against the paneled wall.

"I have some bad news," he said.

"Does it have to do with that life-wrecking bastard, Sam Evans?" she asked, wondering just how much more she could take before she lost it.

The fact that the first day wasn't even over and she was close to a breakdown wasn't lost on her.

"No," Jason said, shaking his head before frowning at her. "Are you ever going to tell me why you call him that?"

"No," she said evenly, while she continued to direct her attention on the kettle that was just now starting to release steam.

"Alrighty then. I guess this is the part where I tell you that your father just called to let you know that he's on his way."

With that, he took a healthy step back just as her glare swung from the kettle to him.

"This is how you tell me?" she demanded in disgust.

Jason shifted nervously under her murderous glare.

"He just called..." he started. But when she looked towards the door wondering if she could make a run for it before her old man came, he added, "He was on his cell phone and less than two minutes away."

Mercedes bristled. She couldn't do this.

She really couldn't do this.

Not today.

Not when Sam already had her contemplating manslaughter.

Her eyes shot back to the kettle just as it began to whistle. Wasting no time, she picked up the kettle, filled the mug and stirred it until the creamy concoction was perfect.

Then she picked it up, gave it the customary thirty second blow and sipped.

When she felt the hot creamy chocolate go down her throat and into her stomach, some of the tension in her body disappeared.

Three long sips later and she felt close to being able to face the day. Halfway through the cocoa, she was in her special place...the place where everything was fine and she could face anything...including Sam...and a visit from her dad.

By the time she had finished the rest of the cocoa, she felt she able to keep this calm going for the rest of the day.

But of course, she needed a second cup.

Mercedes quickly made another cup of cocoa and was just about to take a sip, when the trailer door flew open and Sam stormed inside looking pissed.

"I told you that I had to talk to you," he said, tossing his hard hat on one of the guest chairs as he headed over to her.

Her lips had barely touched the rim of the cup when she found her large mug suddenly ripped out of her hands.

For a moment she could only stare in disbelief as he drank...more like chugged...her cocoa down.

When he was done he handed the empty cup back over to her and gestured for her to go into her office.

But she couldn't move.

She just couldn't.

She looked down at her empty mug as her mind struggled with the knowledge that not only had he touched her hot cocoa, but he'd drained her mug.

Again.

All those calm feelings she'd had a minute ago quickly vanished, as she looked up and glared at the person who'd dared touch her much needed hot cocoa.

"You...bastard!" she bit out slowly in a harsh whisper, while she took a step closer to him, closing the distance between them. "Do you have any idea how much I needed that?"

"She really did," Jason agreed, retreating back to the safety of his desk and for good reason.

"Too bad," Sam said, moving impossibly closer to her. He leaned down until they were practically nose to nose.

Mercedes' fingers flexed by her side with the need to slap him.

'Just one slap,' she thought. 'Right across his handsome mug.'

Sam's smile became knowing and her urge to slap him shifted to the need to throttle him.

"I'll tell you what, Mercedes," he said in a seductive whisper that would probably make other women tremble with need, but only managed to set her rage off by another notch. "If you're really good I might just let you make me some hot cocoa instead of just fetching my coffee."

That was it!

She was going to kill the jerk, she decided just as Jason cleared his throat.

She glared at Sam for about ten more seconds before she moved her glare to her assistant, who had the balls to look amused.

"I probably should remind you...that your brothers said they wouldn't bail you out of jail again for the next three years...after what happened the last time. And that if you kill him...then you'll probably lose this contract."

Which, of course, is why she kept him around. He kept the business running smoothly and kept her from doing anything rash...most of the time anyway.

Fortunately, today was one of those days that he managed to stop her from doing anything particularly stupid...like losing the contract for Sunset View Manor, because she happened to kill the competition.

"Fine!" Mercedes gritted out. "Then I'm going back to work."

She tried to step around Sam, but he simply shook his head, grabbed her by the arm and hauled her towards the office.

"Let me go!" she snapped, trying to pull her arm away, but he refused to release her.

"Not until you and I go over a few things," he simply said as he opened her office door.

"Let go!"

"No."

"Don't worry. I'll hold all your calls," Jason said, sounding a tad too cheerful. And if she didn't rely on the man so damn much she would've fired him then and there.

But she did, so she couldn't.

'Stupid job security,' she thought as Sam practically carried her into her office.

Stay safe!

To my sister Yvette, I love you and miss you everyday since you passed...especially today...