Late May 2020

He didn't mean to kiss her. But they were standing there beside the tilt-a-whirl, so close to each other, in a haze of starlight and memories and she was looking up at him the way she'd always used to and, well – it just sort of happened, leaning towards her, dimly registering somewhere in his brain that she was moving towards him too and then their lips had met in a soft, slow, tentative kiss.

Sam could hear her soft sigh as they broke apart and he couldn't help but smile a little to himself at the sound. Then there was quiet and in a sudden panic, he blurted out, "I'm sorry."

Mercedes shook her head, frowning. "No, it's okay. I kissed you."

He frowned in response. "No, I kissed you."

She laughed a little at that. "Okay, maybe we kissed each other. The point is – don't apologize." She hesitated and then said, "I've realized that I tend to overthink things. And I just – I don't want to do that with you right now. No apologies, no analyzing. Let's just – be."

Sam nodded as if by unspoken agreement they turned away from the tilt-a-whirl and began walking back across the midway. Almost instinctively, Sam reached for her hand, smiling when she didn't yank it back away from him.

They wandered kind of aimlessly for a while before deciding to take a break, somehow miraculously encountering an empty bench and sitting down.

"Okay," Sam said after a few minutes. "I know you said no analyzing – but can I ask a question?"

Mercedes shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

Sam squared his shoulders, studied her for a moment. "You calling me last night – was that THE call?"

"What call?"

"You know," Sam said, almost feeling ridiculous. "When we broke up, back in Brooklyn, you promised you'd call – "

His voice trailed off, but Mercedes picked up the thread as she caught on to what he meant. "If I changed my mind about – things."

"Yeah."

Mercedes was quiet for a long minute, so long that he was afraid she'd shut down completely on him. But finally she shook her head. "I don't think so, no. I'm not sure I'm quite ready to marry anyone – even you – and I haven't changed my mind about wanting to be married first."

Sam nodded. "Okay. I was just – I just wondered."

"But," Mercedes continued, almost as if he hadn't even spoken, "now that I'm thinking about it – maybe also a little bit yes?"

He didn't say anything this time, just watched her as she stared off into the distance, clearly trying to gather her thoughts and figure out her words.

"Do you ever think about the 'what-ifs'?" she finally said. "Like, the whole idea of parallel universes? You know, like, what if your dad had found a job in Lima instead of Kentucky? Maybe that Sam and Mercedes were together for all of high school and college, even. Or you still moved to Kentucky, but we tried to stay together anyway and so I never dated Shane. Or what if I broke up with Shane as soon as you came back or we stayed together when I left for LA or –"

"Or we didn't break up when you went on that first tour," Sam said. "Or got back together that fall or –" his voice trailed off before he said the next one he was thinking of, not wanting to bring the whole Rachel debacle into this moment.

"Yeah." Mercedes sighed heavily. "I guess my point," she said after another long minute of silence, "is that just about every what-if in my life revolves around you." She took a deep breath, nervous about admitting the next part, the realization she'd recently arrived at. "And in every what-if that I think about, I just can't shake the feeling that that Mercedes is happier than I am." Seeing the concerned look on his face, she hastened to add, "Not that I'm unhappy, per se. I just think I could be – happier."

"At the risk of sounding self-satisfied," Sam said, "You did generally seem different to me when we were dating. And I don't think it's just because I was seeing you as my girlfriend. You smiled more, I don't know – lightly? Easily?"

Mercedes nodded. "Yeah, exactly. You were a balance for me – I felt looser, freer with you. Almost like you gave me permission to be silly."

Sam laughed. "And then some. Remember when you threw your coat in the river?"

Mercedes joined him in laughter, shaking her head.

"I still can't believe you did that," Sam said. "It's kind of funny though because I think the opposite is true for me. You grounded me – helped me focus."

Mercedes nodded again. "We were a good team."

Sam nodded too and they sat there in quiet for a few minutes, Mercedes resting her head on Sam's shoulder. Finally, he spoke.

"What if we could be a good team again?"

She was quiet for so long again that once more, he was a little worried, but then she said, softly, "Yeah. I definitely wonder about that." She sighed. "But aren't we still facing the same issues as six years ago? We live hundreds of miles apart, in completely different lives and we still want different things."

"Do we though?" Sam replied, sincerely considering the question. "Because when I really think about it, I think ultimately we both want to be with someone we love and who loves us back, someone who lets us be ourselves and live our individual dreams but also figure out some dreams to dream together." He shrugged. "Except for whether we want to have sex yet or not, I think we mostly do want the same things."

He ducked away as she reached over to swat his arm, shaking her head. "Okay, fine, maybe you're right. Although to be clear, it's never been a matter of not wanting to, it's been about knowing what I'm not ready for. There is a difference."

Sam nodded in acknowledgement. "I can appreciate the distinction."

"I guess one of our biggest problems – maybe the biggest one – is all of my fears and insecurities. And I still have those – about trust and intimacy and maintaining a long-distance relationship. But I just keep coming back around to that question – what if?"

Her words hung in the air for a few moments, both of them lost in their own thoughts and feelings. And then suddenly Sam broke the silence with laughter.

"What?" Mercedes said in clear confusion and just a hint of annoyance. "What is funny?"

Sam shook his head. "I dunno, it's not really, it's just – my God, this is so us. We've hardly seen each other in six years, barely spoken even, and yet, in less than a few hours together, we've kissed once and we're suddenly trying to figure out if we can be a long-distance couple? Having a reasonable, mature, thoughtful conversation about it. Like, could we be any more on the Samcedes brand?"

Mercedes studied him for a moment, contemplating his words before she too broke into giggles. "I guess you're right. I mean, the last time we dated, we were living together before we even got back together, so yeah. I guess we do kind of tend to go from zero to sixty."

"I don't necessarily mind it," Sam said truthfully, "but since you're in town for a little while, maybe we should try local dating first for a few weeks and then circle back to the long-distance discussion?"

She glanced over at him, gazing at her, and then looked back down at her lap. "You really want to date me again? For the fourth time?"

"Mercedes…" Sam said her name and then closed his mouth again, clearly trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. Finally, he continued, in a low voice, "When I think about the future – it's still always you I picture it with. When I think about the kids I might have one day and what they might look like or be like – they are clearly your kids too. Every girl I've dated since New York – they haven't worked out because I can't stop comparing them to you."

Mercedes nodded, because honestly, she had no idea how to respond to that, except to whisper, "Me too." Because it's true, when she's let her guard down and let herself daydream, it's what she sees in a far-off, distant, hazy future too – Sam waiting for her at the end of a church aisle, Sam holding her hand in a delivery room, Sam in a yard or a park or something, playing with kids with light brown skin, at least one of them with his green eyes.

She blinked and pulled herself out of her thoughts, having realized he was still talking.

"Our relationship in New York – it barely had a chance to get started before we stomped on the brakes. If nothing else, I think it deserves another shot."

"Before I stomped on the brakes," Mercedes corrected him ruefully, a tiny part of her glad to be able to deflect from the admissions that both of their feelings still ran deep. "Let's not pretend that I wasn't so terrified of you coming to your senses and breaking up with me that I had to make sure you didn't have the opportunity."

Sam just looked at her, his face clearly expressing what he thought about her words. Finally, he shook his head. "I will never not be totally lost about how you can be SO damn confident in your voice and performance abilities and so completely insecure about yourself as a person."

It was probably a testament to how much she'd grown up in the last six years that rather than looking away, blushing or smiling shyly, instead she laughed and nodded.

"Yeah. Is that irony? I can never remember the actual definition, but I think that's it."

Sam shrugged. "No idea, I teach music, not English."

"Fair enough," Mercedes said with a laugh. Then she shook her head. "I've discovered that it's actually pretty common for performers. I've met a ton of people who are the same way. Even –" and here she lowered her voice and glanced around before continuing to speak "- and don't you dare ever repeat this to anyone or I swear, the Bey-hive will come for me, but even Beyonce has her moments every now and then."

She giggled when Sam responded by miming zipping his lips and then locking them with a key that he tossed over his shoulder.

"So silly," she said and he shrugged.

"Maybe, but I promise, all your secrets are safe with me."

"Speaking of," she said slowly and Sam couldn't help sighing.

"If we do this – date again - you want us to keep it a secret, don't you?"

"What? No!" she replied, shaking her head. "That's actually what I was about to say, that for once, I don't necessarily want it to be secret." She laughed suddenly. "Although since your BFF has designated himself our personal matchmaker and he makes sure to tell me right away every time there's a new woman in your life, it might be fun for you to just tell him you have a new girlfriend and not mention names and then when he tells me, I can just be all, yeah, I know, actually I know her, she's awesome. Also, she is me."

"Does Blaine really do that?" Sam said through his own laughter. "Because he has been telling me for years I need to face reality and just call you, but I didn't realize he was giving you shit too."

Mercedes smiled. "Not exactly, he's never come out and said he thinks we should get back together, so I guess matchmaker isn't the right word, but it's the feeling I get from him. The boy is a sucker for winning back a lost love, right?"

Sam grinned knowingly at that comment as Mercedes continued speaking, "I think he just cares about us both. You know, he had a front-row seat the last time we were together, I guess he thinks we're a good team too."

Sam nodded and reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. "So – are we doing this, then? You're my girlfriend? And I can tell people about it?"

She nodded back at him, studying his face for a long minute, relishing in the feel of their tangled-together fingers. "Yeah," she finally said. "I think we're doing this. And, yes, you can tell people. I mean, if you can hold off on, like, changing your Facebook relationship status or posting anything on Insta, at least until I can talk to Santana so that she can field any questions that might come in if the gossip sites pick it up, that would be helpful, but yeah. It's really up to you though – I don't want to hide you, but I don't want to be the reason you get hit with a bunch of negative attention, either."

"I understand," Sam said, mulling over her words. "I'll be careful, for now. Although we are one hundred percent pulling that prank on Blaine."

Mercedes laughed. "In that case, you have to wait and not tell anyone until I go back to New York for Rachel's Tony party next week. Because it'll probably be one of the first things I hear when I see him."

"Deal," Sam said with a grin. "See, we are a damn good team." Mercedes laughed again and Sam continued speaking, sounding more thoughtful, "I have to admit, it is weird to think about though, you being famous, strangers caring about who you're dating."

Mercedes nodded. "It is weird sometimes, throwing your whole life out there for people to judge. I try not to overshare though. It's hard sometimes, feeling like there's two versions of me out there."

"I hope it's not rude to say that to me you just seem like regular old Mercedes."

She smiled, squeezing his hand. "Not rude. Honestly, right now, here with you, I feel more like regular old Mercedes than I have in a long time."

"Good," Sam said quietly, shifting towards her on the bench, the hand not holding hers coming up to cup her cheek as he leaned in to press his lips against hers, Mercedes' free hand coming up to cover his as he did so. She sighed happily as her lips parted against his, his tongue sliding into her mouth like it had been just yesterday that he'd last kissed her like this, instead of years. She found herself marveling at how familiar his touch was, how he still tasted like cherry Chapstick, how he somehow managed to make her believe she was as beautiful as he said she was.

She let herself get lost in the kiss, somehow forgetting that they were in a public place, until –

"Yeah! Mr. E, is that you? Get it, sir!"

They broke apart, Mercedes muttering, "oh good Lord," under her breath, hiding her face against Sam's chest as he called back, "Move along, Derek, nothing to see here."

"One of your students?" she asked, her voice a little muffled since her face was still pressed against him.

"Yeah," Sam said. "One of my best male vocalists, actually. I'm pretty sure he didn't see who you are though or he would have lost it. He's a big fan, most of the kids are."

"I hope not," Mercedes said, finally lifting her head. "The last thing I need is a rant from Santana about getting busted making out in public by a bunch of teenagers."

Sam laughed. "Don't worry, I'll protect you. Holding Santana back when she goes all Lima Heights is my job, right?"

Mercedes laughed too. "And on that note – we should probably head out of here."

Sam nodded. "Would you want to come back to my place or – " His voice trailed off as he saw Mercedes already shaking her head.

"Tempting as it is – I am staying with my parents, remember?"

"Damn," Sam said cheerfully. "When I said we should try local dating first, I didn't necessarily mean high school level local dating."

She laughed again. "I don't know that it's quite that dire – I'm twenty-six years old and only here for a couple months. How much of a curfew can they actually give me?"

Sam shrugged and Mercedes kept talking. "But I'd rather be polite and ask them during daylight hours if they're bothered if I stay out super late or not. So – maybe next time?"

"Works for me," Sam said, standing up and holding out his hand to her. "After all, we've got all summer, right?"