Thank you for your continued interest and support. I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Grayson's Vow.

MERCEDES

Evans Vineyard was suffused with dappled, late afternoon sun when I drove through the gates a little after four o'clock.

I had spent the weekend with Melodie, filling her in on everything that had taken place with Sam since I'd last spoken to her.

At first, she refused to speak to me, and then she ranted and raved for fifteen minutes...breaking into frequent bouts of Spanish...while I sat before her on the couch with my arms crossed like a child being disciplined.

She'd brought up at least twenty examples of my Very Bad Ideas that had ended terribly. When she'd finally calmed down enough to discuss the matter with me, though, and when she realized I wasn't going to back down, she'd taken me in her arms and offered me her support.

That was generally the way of things with her. I knew enough to wait her out. And she knew enough to know that once I'd committed to a Very Bad Idea, it was unlikely I'd change my mind.

Still, I knew that ranting at me made her feel like she'd done her duty, so I took it in stride. Because at its core, it was filled with love.

And I'd missed her so much while I was away. She has always been a balm to my soul...the one who kept me sane.

I'd also made a quick visit to the drop-in center where I'd spent so many hours.

I assured them I had a large donation coming their way, one that would allow them to make it through the next six months until one of their larger grants kicked in.

God, how I'd wished I could stay a little longer visiting with the people there I'd grown to love and hadn't seen in so long. But I assured them...and myself...that I'd be back very soon.

Being away from The Dragon for a couple days had enabled me to put things in perspective. And I drove back with a renewed sense of surety.

This plan was going to work...

Everything had fallen into place and I tended to think that when that happened, I was on the right path.

In a matter of days, we'd be married, have my gram's money, and I'd be on my way to being self-sufficient.

I could decide what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. And I wouldn't be under anyone's thumb. I would finally be free.

Surprisingly, I'd missed my little cottage... And after opening the windows and putting my suitcase down at the end of the bed, I fell onto it and smiled up at the stained, peeling ceiling, twirling a piece of my hair and humming loudly the song that had been on the radio in my car a few minutes ago.

Outside the window, I heard the distant sound of a vehicle, most likely a tractor, and the shrill chatter of the birds that filled the trees.

I needed to find a little place similar to this somewhere in Napa Valley when I finally moved out.

Somewhere simple...

Somewhere I could be myself...

Somewhere I might find happiness...

Sighing, I sat up, slipped out of my clothes and unpacked the new, fluffy towels I'd purchased in San Francisco.

And after rooting around in my luggage for my toiletries, I turned towards the shower.

That's when I saw a man was standing in the doorway...

I startled so abruptly that my toiletries went flying out of my hands and I screamed, a piercing, horror-stricken sound.

"Whoa, whoa!" Sam said, moving towards me, his hands up in an I surrender pose. It was meant to calm me, I supposed.

His eyes were wide with surprise and I couldn't help but notice the way they swept down my body.

"Oh my GOD!" I shrieked, realizing I was as naked as a jaybird...

I looked around wildly for something to hide my nakedness, grabbing the shirt at the top of my open suitcase, and attempting to cover as much of myself as possible.

At practically the same moment, Sam whirled around and went stalking out the door.

I sagged against the end of the bed, my face hot, my legs shaking...

"Don't you knock?" I yelled.

"You don't have anything I haven't seen before," I heard him say loudly outside my open window as he walked away from my cottage.

I felt as though I could hit him... And I might've growled. In fact, I knew I did...

Thoroughly humiliated, I got into the shower, still grumbling angrily about rude, disrespectful stalkers.

Nothing he hadn't seen before. Ugh! Scaly beast!

After scrubbing myself just a bit too harshly...if my stinging skin was any indication...I pulled on clothes, put my hair up in a bun and went marching up to the main house.

Alice greeted me kindly when I met her in the kitchen...

"Is Sam around?" I asked, trying to keep the brittleness out of my voice.

"He..."

"I'm right here," came his voice from behind me.

I whirled around, shooting daggers at him with my eyes.

"May I speak with you privately?" I said with fake sweetness.

He narrowed his eyes and didn't move, apparently ignoring my request, or just not caring if Alice overheard us.

What did it matter?

She'd heard us fight before.

I crossed my arms...

"You can't just flounce into someone's personal habitation without knocking!" I said, my words tumbling out in exasperated anger.

"I did knock," he said, his tone bored, causing me to seethe even more. "And I've never flounced in my life." He turned towards Alice. "Alice, have you ever seen me flounce?"

"No, it's true," she said, wrinkling her brow. "You're not a man inclined to flounce."

I sputtered in frustration...

"Flounce, prance, intrude!"

"Prance?" Sam asked incredulously. "I've definitely never pranced. Ever. Alice?"

She shook her head.

"No, no prancing." Then she put one finger up, turning her attention to me. "I did see him skip once. But he was still just a wee lad..."

I threw my arms up in the air in irritation, trying my best to ignore Sam's mocking, Alice's support of his mocking and stick to the subject at hand.

"You didn't knock! Or if you did, I didn't grant you permission to enter. I wouldn't have, seeing as I was naked!"

Wait, was that a faint pink color tingeing his cheekbones?

Alice coughed...

"Oh my," I heard her breathe.

"Yes, well, it all happened very fast. I barely saw anything. I've already wiped the vision from my mind. Cross my heart," Sam said.

He said it as if it had been a particularly distasteful vision.

"If you have a heart, which is debatable," I threw out.

I gritted my teeth together.

His eyes narrowed...

"It was an accident, Mercedes. I apologize. I have no interest in seeing you naked, I promise. It won't happen again."

He rubbed a finger beneath his eye as if smoothing away a twitch, his tone bored once again.

I stood up straight, raising my chin...

Why was I bothered by his attitude at having seen me naked?

What did I want, for him to have stood with his tongue lolling out of his mouth at my mouthwatering sexiness?

I knew I was far from mouthwateringly sexy. Chris had taught me that lesson.

I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself, feeling the fire burn out of my anger, and took a deep breath.

"Well, fine, what did you need anyway?"

Sam paused a moment, studying me...

"I saw your car pull in. So I was just coming to tell you that our prenuptial agreement will be ready on Wednesday. Oh, and I moved our appointment to get married to Thursday..." He paused. "As long as that's okay with you."

"Oh! Yes. That's fine."

My heart started beating faster... Okay, I felt ill.

He squinted at me slightly, but didn't say anything.

"Well then, it's a plan," I mumbled. "I'm going to drive into town for dinner tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

He kept looking at me suspiciously, not saying a word. However, I turned and walked quickly out of the house, practically running back to my cottage once I had closed the front door behind me.

Sam and I avoided each other for the next two days. Or at least I thought it was both of us. I knew I was steering clear of him, and I was pretty sure he was doing the same.

I saw him a few times in passing, but other than that, I spent the time mostly alone.

I took long walks around Napa, including the Evans property, read, helped Alice with a few meals... Meals that Sam didn't show up for. But I loved chatting with her.

She was so very easy to get along with and had the same kind, open spirit that my Gram had had.

Even though I barely knew her, it was as if she had filled the empty void created when Gram passed away. She was a motherly figure.

My father's number had appeared in my phone a couple times, but I didn't answer.

Finally, though, I sent him a text telling him I was taking some time for myself and I'd call him soon.

I didn't receive a reply.

At eleven on Wednesday, Sam and I met outside the main house, then drove into town to the appointment with the lawyer he'd hired.

We'd waived having separate lawyers to save both time and money.

Neither of us spoke on the way there...

Ever since the naked incident, there'd been a strange tension between us. I couldn't figure out if it was anger or awkwardness, or perhaps a little bit of both.

For my part, I definitely felt angry and awkward.

Why he should feel angry, I had no idea, but he seemed to. Perhaps I just didn't know him well enough to read him. And, I reminded myself, I never would.

We parked and when we realized we'd arrived a little early, I asked Sam if he'd mind if I went inside a small wine shop on the same street.

I wanted to buy a little something for Alice who had so kindly gone out of her way to include me in Sam's home...far beyond her role as a housekeeper merely doing her job.

I wanted to let her know I appreciated it, especially under the circumstances.

Once inside, Sam started looking over the wine selections at the front and I headed towards the back of the store where wine openers and other kitchen items were.

As I perused some pretty cheese trays in one of the aisles, I overheard a woman say in a loud whisper...

"Did you see Sam Evans at the front of the store? God, I used to have the biggest crush on him."

I stiffened slightly as another woman giggled...

"Who didn't? Go talk to him. I mean, you couldn't take him home to Mama now, but for a one-night fling, hot damn, I'd pay to experience that."

"Maybe I will. He's so hot."

The other woman giggled and when I heard them walking towards me, my pulse skyrocketed, so I hightailed it in the other direction, grabbing Sam's arm as I walked quickly towards the door.

"Whoa!" he said, keeping pace with me.

"They didn't have what I was looking for," I explained, not even understanding exactly why I felt so flustered.

"What were you looking for?"

"Uh, a cheese tray, or a cake stand or something, I don't know," I hedged.

"They had all that back there."

"Look," I said, taking a deep breath and slowing to a normal paced walk. "I heard some women discussing you, and I felt like I was eavesdropping." I paused. "It's just... Just that it was weird and uncomfortable."

Sam looked at me and when I turned my head, he raised one brow.

"Discussing me?"

I waved my hand...

"I'm sure you're aware that women find you...appealing for some unknown reason."

I shrugged...

"Appealing?"

"Hot, panty-melting," I elaborated.

He stopped and I did as well, turning to face him. The look on his face was filled with amusement.

"This topic interests me. I'd like to stop and discuss it further," he said.

I snorted, turning and walking again. He caught up, turning around so that he was walking backward in front of me, his expression disgustingly smug.

"Wait, were you uncomfortable because...you find me...appealing, little witch?"

You don't have anything I haven't seen before.

"No," I said, possibly a bit more sharply than intended. "Not in the least. Here we are."

I moved around him and walked through the door of the lawyer's office, his annoying chuckle following me inside.

Scaly winged creature!

The paperwork was straightforward and easy enough to understand. And I ignored Sam entirely while we signed it, although I still felt vaguely annoyed by his teasing outside.

We both perused the paperwork carefully, though, and signed our names, taking a copy with us. And just like that, it was done. The only thing left to do was to get married.

Married...

To a dragon...

A completely unappealing, annoying dragon...

For money...

I groaned internally. This was by far, the craziest scheme I'd ever concocted.

Cons... Crazy, ridiculous, probably shameful... Definitely shameful. Disrespectful to the sanctity of marriage. Disrespectful to my grandmother.

Those were a lot of cons. But... but it was going to work. And I'd be free of my father.

'Focus, Mercedes. Focus on that.'

It was an incredibly weighty pro.

I made a list about Sam The Dragon the night before, after he'd come into the kitchen to eat dinner, saw me sitting at the table and promptly informed Alice he'd be eating in town.

I had been avoiding him, too, so why that should've stung, I wasn't sure.

The list had been made out of hurt pride, but it had helped.

"Our appointment is for two thirty tomorrow afternoon. Appointments, that is. We have one to get the license and one directly afterward to tie the knot," he said.

I nodded vigorously, as if this was all just fine and dandy.

Married!

Tomorrow.

Two thirty.

Tying the knot!

That made it sound so casual. Like no big deal. Just tying the knot. If you tie it loosely enough, a knot can be untied just as easily...

Suddenly, I had a strong desire to laugh crazily, perhaps until I cried.

Sam's mood seemed different too... More subdued.

"Are you going to tell your father before or after?" he asked.

"After. Once we've cashed the trust check."

Nervousness assaulted me at the mere thought of confronting my father.

I saw Sam nod from my peripheral vision, but didn't look over at him. He seemed to be studying me.

"If you...want to back out, I..."

I shook my head. We'd come too far.

"No. I don't." I looked over at him. "Do you?"

"No."

Sam drove us straight back to the house and I followed him inside, intending on getting something to eat.

In the dim foyer, I removed my sunglasses and stuffed them in my overfilled purse, pushing them down to the bottom where they were less likely to fall out.

"I'll meet you here at two o'clock tomorrow then," he said, obviously intending on getting to work for the day, doing whatever it was he did down at the stone building.

"Okay," I agreed, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, here. You dropped this." He bent and picked up a piece of paper and began handing it to me.

I creased my brow...

"I don't think that's..."

And then I realized what it was by the color of the paper. It was the list I'd made about him. The one I'd also scrawled "Mercedes Evans" on several times in the margins, testing out my new signature.

It must've fallen out of my purse.

I felt heat rising in my face and I grabbed for it...

But Sam, eyeing me suspiciously, pulled the paper back.

"Don't you dare," I breathed and his eyes widened.

Sam looked down at the paper in his hand and back at me, obviously more interested now that I was making such a big deal over it.

It had just happened so quickly, and I hadn't had time to mask my reaction.

'Stupid, Mercedes!'

"What do we have here?" he asked.

"It's personal," I said. "Give it back."

"Personal? We're about to be married, babe," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm. "We shouldn't have any secrets between us."

"Very funny. Let me have it."

He unfolded half of it just as I lunged... But he sideswiped me gracefully, grinning as I let out a squeak and almost fell on the ground.

Then he turned and walked briskly to the large living room to the right of the foyer.

"I think I'll pull up a reading chair and see what this is all about."

"Give it back!" I yelled, sounding like a petulant child. But the damn man unfolded it the rest of the way as I ran behind him.

"The Dragon, aka Sam Evans... Pros and Cons," he read aloud. He looked back over his shoulder at me, raising one blonde eyebrow, and then stepped behind the large, leather sectional and turned to face me...

In my haste to get to Sam, I tripped over the matching ottoman, almost falling again.

"Don't!" I warned, trying to put all my much-deserved wrath into that one word.

He tilted his head, obviously reading my scrawled signature.

"I'd really prefer it if you kept your maiden name," he said.

Ouch!

"Yes, well, of course." My face and skin was throbbing with heat. "Give it to me!"

He didn't.

"Pro... He's an ass, but his actual ass is easy on the eyes." He lowered the paper and looked at me over it. "You like my ass, little witch? You should've told me. I warned you not to develop feelings for me. But I suppose it's okay to admire my ass, if you do in fact find me...appealing." He smirked. "You're only human after all," he added, scratching his chin as if in thought. "Are witches human? Hmm..."

He looked back to the paper...

"You..." I sputtered, unable to think of how to finish that sentence, flailing my arms in utter helplessness, seething with rage.

He seemed to enjoy deliberately arousing my anger. And I wanted to wipe the arrogant look off his stupid, handsome features.

"Con.. He's a pompous dragon," he read calmly.

"Proven fact," I growled.

"Pro... He needs me." His eyes darted to mine, darkening. "Correction...I need your money."

Well, he wouldn't get it now! He had crossed the line. I'd never give this dragon a damned thing!

I looked around the room wildly for something to wound Sam with, spotting a bottle of wine sitting far back on a buffet next to a door that presumably led to a cellar.

I ran over to it, grabbed it and went to throw it at him.

"No!" he yelled, a note of panic in his voice that stopped me in my tracks. "Mercedes," he dropped the list and put his hands up in a pose of surrender. "That bottle of wine is irreplaceable." He bent slowly to pick up my list and rose just as slowly, holding it out to me. "Trade," he said, moving cautiously in my direction as if I was an untamed animal.

I looked down at the bottle in my hands... Something French. And when I looked back up at him, his face was white.

"This one?" I asked innocently, switching it to my other hand with a little toss. A choked sound came from his throat... "This one right here? Irreplaceable?"

Surely he was exaggerating. Otherwise, why would it be sitting out on a buffet in the living room?

Still, it obviously meant a lot to him, because he went to move towards me again.

"Stay where you are!" I commanded. He did. And I raised my chin. "Apologize to me for your extreme rudeness and..." I waved the bottle of wine around, trying to come up with the words for what he'd done to me and my pride.

That same choked sound escaped his throat again, his eyes tracking the movement of the bottle.

"Yes, yes, I apologize. I was just having some fun with you. I didn't mean any harm. I swear it. Come here and give me the bottle of wine, Mercedes."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"No."

He blinked.

"No?"

"I won't come to you. You come to me."

Something flashed in Sam's eyes, but he carefully checked his expression even as his eyes landed on the bottle in my hands again.

"Meet me in the middle," he said.

I thought about challenging that... After all, I was the one clearly in control now, but I decided the middle was adequate.

"Okay. Quick swap."

He nodded once and I went to move towards him...

Hmm... I would enjoy seeing that look of helpless panic in his eyes and hearing that odd choking sound come from his throat one last time.

Intending on passing the bottle from my left hand to my right, I swung my left arm out in a wide arc and reached forward with my right to grab it, keeping eye contact with The Dragon, a small smirk on my lips.

Then the sound of shattering glass rang out loudly in the silent room and I froze, sucking in a breath.

Time seeming to slow as I looked to my left where I had forgotten stood a large stone pillar...

I'd raised my arm and smashed the wine right into the unforgiving rock.

I swallowed thickly, watching what looked like blood drip down the stone into a growing puddle on the floor. Suddenly, a gasping sound came from the doorway and I whipped my head in the direction of the small noise.

Harrold stood there, his mouth hung open, his complexion a ghastly white.

"I had just gone to get the key to the wine cellar," he said, his voice a choked whisper. "I'm sorry, sir."

Oh, God.

I looked down to the broken neck of the bottle in my hand and then slowly, very slowly up at Sam.

He was seething with what looked to be barely controlled fury.

"It wasn't your fault, Harrold. You may go," he said, his voice full of deadly calm.

There was a pause...

"Yes, sir," I heard Harrold say, then he quickly walked away.

I blinked, my hand letting go of the broken bottleneck as it, too, shattered on the floor. And I stood glued to the spot as Sam slowly made his way to me.

I could practically feel the fiery rage emanating from him...

When he got to me, he moved in close, taking his fingers and tilting my chin up to him. A muscle twitched in his jaw...a small warning.

But I stood straighter, meeting his eyes.

"That bottle of wine," he gritted out. "Was my father's pride and joy. He spent years trying to obtain it. When he finally did, he wept. He wept, Mercedes. Tears of joy over that bottle you just smashed out of spite."

I shook my head, trying desperately not to flinch.

"It was an accident. It was just...sitting there..."

I hated the catch in my voice as my words faded away.

He let go of my chin, his darkened green eyes still staring down at me intently.

"Two o'clock," he said, finally. "Meet me here tomorrow at two o'clock."

Two o'clock?

What was two o'clock?

I couldn't remember...

Oh, God, we were getting married!

I almost told him it was off. I opened my mouth to say the words, but they didn't come out. Clearly he was going through with it now to punish me...or at the very least to recoup the cost of that irreplaceable bottle of wine.

With those words, Sam went striding out of the living room. And I stood there for a few minutes, finally walking on wobbly legs over to where he'd dropped my childish list.

I picked it up and walked to the kitchen where Alice was wiping down the counter, the sweet smell of cinnamon and apples wafting in the air.

She glanced at me with a clearly nervous look and then glanced away.

"He's not a bad man, Mercedes."

I swallowed...

"I..." I shook my head, beginning again. "I'm sure he's not always, but I have a way of...bringing out the very worst in men."

"I'm sure that's not true."

I shrugged, because it really was. It really, really was.

Bile rose in my throat. I thought I might be sick, but I managed to swallow it down.

"And perhaps it's more them than you, my dear. Perhaps it will take a very special man to um..."

"Handle me?"

I laughed, a small sound that held little amusement.

"Love you," she corrected.

I wasn't sure I should take that as a compliment, except for the fact that she was smiling warmly at me.

Love...

Fierce longing rose in my chest. Even for just once I'd like to be cherished.

I sighed...

"In any case, my arrangement with Sam has nothing to do with love. And it doesn't matter anyway. I won't follow through. It was a terrible idea from the very beginning."

My reasoning sounded hollow.

I turned to Alice who was watching her hand move the sponge over the counters, a thoughtful look on her face.

"That wine, Alice, was it really irreplaceable? Did his father really search for it for years?"

I fought the urge to cry.

Alice was quiet for a moment, seemingly trying to make a decision.

She put the sponge on the sink and came around the counter to sit next to me on a bar stool. Then she took my hands in hers, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

"He'll likely never tell you himself and so, I'm going to let you in on something about Sam and his father, Mercedes. I don't like to gossip, but maybe knowing some of his background will help you understand why he's so hell-bent on bringing this damn winery back."

She pursed her lips for a second, but then her expression cleared.

Damn winery?

This was her home, too. Didn't she love it here?

"Sam and his father, Dwight Evans, did not have a good relationship." She shook her head sadly. "The reasons were many and perhaps he will share those with you someday, but suffice it to say, he was never made to feel like he belonged in this home, either by his father or his stepmother. They...misguidedly blamed him for things a child should never be blamed for. They treated him wretchedly...excluded him, each trying to convince the other they hated him more."

A look of raw sadness filled Alice's expression...

"Sam tried so hard, all his life, he...well, it didn't matter. Nothing he did was deemed good enough." She shook her head. "Later, after he got arrested..."

She grabbed a tissue off the counter and dabbed at her nose. Then went on...

"His father never visited him, not even once. Then he found out he had cancer while Sam was away, and he perished quickly. Or at least it seemed that way. When Sammy returned home, he found out his father had left this vineyard to him, a business that had begun failing as soon as Dwight found out he was ill. And he left all his money to his wife and Sam's brother, Stevie."

Something went skittering across Alice's features, but it was gone before I could try to read it. She went on...

"Sam vowed that day he would bring the vineyard back, not for himself, but for the father who had shunned him his whole life, and, in the end, left him this place as a final peace offering. Sam felt Dwight had entrusted him with his most beloved possession because he'd finally believed him worthy. Worthy of reviving it, worthy of running it. And he will do practically anything to prove his father wasn't mistaken in that belief."

I sagged back on the bar stool... That was a lot.

"Even though his father treated him so terribly before that?"

Alice nodded.

"I believe because his father treated him so terribly before that, to Sam, redeeming this vineyard means redeeming his own value."

I nodded slowly, biting my lip, thinking about how much Sam and I had in common. Both of us raised by fathers who never thought we were enough.

"Thank you, Alice. I understand him a little better now. And I can relate." I pressed my lips together in thought. "I even think maybe we could be friends, except that...he thinks I'm a witch, and I'm still pretty sure he's a dragon. At least when it comes to me."

Alice laughed, apparently finding that amusing.

"Why did you tell me all that?" I asked, tilting my head in question.

She grasped my hands again...

"I think you can see people in a different light when you understand their motivations. And perhaps you think you bring out the worst in Sammy, but since you came into his life, even though it's been such a short time, he's been more alive than in the entire year he's been home...even if that's translated into lots of fire breathing."

She squeezed my hands tightly again...

"I believe that's a good thing. Sam can be arrogant...due to his looks largely. But inside, his hurt runs very deep." She looked sad for a moment, but then smiled at me. And I couldn't help smiling back. There was something so wonderfully comforting about her. "Here, let me cut you a big slice of cinnamon apple cake straight from the oven," she said as she stood.

"And by the way, my dear," she said, resting her hand on mine on the counter, a glint in her eyes. "Forget the prince and princess. I always imagined the real story was between the witch and the dragon."

Her musical laughter rang through the kitchen.

Hey onetreefan, I hope you feel better and back on your feet better than before. Best wishes!

Stay safe friends!