Thank you for your continued support.I appreciate it.

I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Chasing Christmas Eve.

"Samuel Evans?" an unfamiliar female voice asked.

'Shit!'

Anyone who used his full name, was most definitely someone he didn't want to speak with.

And after the past few months, he knew better than to answer his phone without looking at the screen. But with both hands busy directing a drone around the room, he'd answered on voice command without thinking about it.

"Wrong number," he said, the drone hovering with perfect precision and engineering above his head. Then, to prevent a repeat call while he was working, he took one hand off the controls and chucked his phone out the high, narrow window of the basement.

And it felt great...liberating even.

Directing the drone to continue hovering, Sam moved to the far wall of the huge basement, below the Pacific Pier Building and climbed the three-foot ladder that was against the window, for just this sort of situation.

Just as he thought, his cell phone had landed directly in the fountain in the center of the courtyard.

"Three points," he murmured, just as the elevator doors opened and Kitty Wilde entered.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked, in a tone that only she could get away with and not die. "You killed another one? Why don't you just stop answering to the damn reporters...wouldn't that be easier?"

Sam turned his attention back to his drone, impressed with the changes he'd made in the flight software.

"Am I paying you to bitch at me?" he asked mildly.

"As a matter of fact, yes," she said. "You're actually paying me a hell of a lot of money to bitch at you. Why don't I just change your phone number again?"

"He can't," Noah 'Puck' Puckerman said, from the other side of the room.

He was wearing only a pair of knit boxers and stood in front of one of the three commercial-grade washer-dryers, waiting for his clothes.

"Me and the guys like it when he gets all the marriage proposals."

"You mean you like the nude pics that come with the proposals," Kitty said.

"They send him presents sometimes too," Noah said. "Junk food and panties. That's always fun."

Kitty rolled her eyes.

"Why are you in just your underwear?" she asked.

Noah was an IT wizard who worked two floors up.

He was second in charge there, a master finder and fixer of, well, just about anything, and was fairly bad-ass while he was at it.

And although Kitty terrified almost everyone on the planet, he just grinned at her.

"I had a little tussle earlier on the job," he said. "And my boy Sam let me in down here to use the machines."

Kitty was not impressed.

"If by tussle you mean a take-down went bad and you got blood all over yourself again, you best not be using those machines."

"Hey, at least it's not my blood. And I'm fine, thanks for asking."

Kitty's hands went to her hips.

She managed this building for the owner...who happened to be Sam...and she often mistook her job for actual world domination, trying to run his personal life as well.

But Sam had nixed his personal life a long time ago. It was the Evans' curse.

He could be successful in his business life or his personal life...but not both. And since he objected on a very base level, to going back to abject poverty, he'd long ago decided, business was a safer bet than love.

Although, to be honest, he'd made a few forays into attempting both and had failed spectacularly.

"Oh, and did you hear that Sam here, is rumored to be one of the top ten nominees, for San Francisco's most eligible bachelor?" Noah asked Kitty, snorting, as if it was hysterical.

Sam leaned forward and banged his head against the wall a few times.

"Don't bother," Kitty said to him. "Your head is harder than the concrete. And yes," she told Noah, turning to him. "I know. Is that part of the reason he just threw his phone out the window?"

"I could just scare everyone off your ass for you," Noah said to Sam.

Sam was more than a little tempted by his offer.

This mess was his own fault, for trusting someone he shouldn't have. And as a result, the press had been having a field day with his success in a very large way...threatening his privacy and also his sanity.

And just thinking about the 'most eligible bachelor' thing had him groaning.

"Listen," Kitty said more kindly now. "Go take a break, okay? Then you can come back and shut out the world and work."

It was a well-known fact, that Sam's ability to hyper-focus and ignore everything around him, was both a strength and a giant flaw.

It was a great asset for an engineer/inventor, but not so great for anything else...like relationships.

But truthfully, he was hungry, so a break sounded good.

Sam headed towards the elevator.

"Uh..." Kitty said, gesturing to his clothes. "You might want to..."

"What?" he asked, looking down at himself.

So he hadn't shaved in a few days...so what?

Could be, he lived out of his dryer, grabbing clean but wrinkled clothes from there in the mornings when he got dressed.

Whatever.

There were worse things.

"Noah is in his underwear," Sam pointed out.

"Hey, at least I am wearing some today," Noah said.

Kitty took in the guy's nearly naked form, clearly appreciating the view, in spite of her being very much taken in the relationship department, by Noah's boss, Artie Abrams.

She finally shook it off and turned back to Sam.

"You know damn well, when you walk across the courtyard talking to yourself, with your hair standing up thanks to your fingers, all stubbly because you forgot to shave, and those black-rimmed glasses slipping down your annoyingly perfect nose, women come out of the woodwork."

"They do?" Noah asked.

"It's the hot geek/sexy dork look," Kitty said.

"Hmm," Noah said, rubbing his jaw, where he too had stubble. "Maybe I should try that sometime."

"No," Kitty said. "Your looks say sexy bad-ass. You can't pull off hot geek/sexy dork...which apparently, is like a siren call, to crazy women everywhere."

Noah looked pleased.

"I'm okay with that," he said.

Kitty turned to Sam.

"After your last romantic fiasco, you vowed to take a break, remember? So all I'm saying, is that you might want to change up your look."

"How?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Slouch. Get a beer gut. Fart. Whatever it is that guys do, to organically turn us off."

"Wait," Noah said. "You gave up sex after Cindy dumped you...what, two years ago now? Like, willingly?"

"Something you should try sometime," Kitty said to him.

"Woman, bite your tongue."

"No, really," she said. "How do you even keep all their names straight?"

"Easy," Noah said with a smile. "If I forget their name, I just take them to Starbucks in the morning and wait until the barista asks their name for their cup."

Kitty stared incredulously.

"Seriously?"

"Hey, you know I run on caffeine, sarcasm, and inappropriate thoughts at all times..."

"I didn't give up sex," Sam said.

Okay, it was true, that his latest project required his undivided attention, twenty four seven and he hadn't had time to connect with anyone.

But quick hookups weren't really his thing anyway.

His thing at the moment, was creating a system for getting meds to people via drones, in far-flung areas, where they were nearly nonexistent.

Also, meds and also medical care, through camera-equipped drones, allowing doctors to remotely diagnose and monitor patients.

He'd had problems.

Accommodating for the atmosphere and varying weather patterns, for one. The security, for another...making sure pirates couldn't intercept and steal the meds and equipment was a high-stakes priority.

And then, there was the ratio of the changing weight of the cargo, to getting enough battery charge to make the long flights, not to mention, the struggle to stay connected, no matter the conditions.

But he was getting close, very close. All he needed was time...uninterrupted time...which was a rare commodity.

He moved towards the door.

"I'm going after my phone."

"The one you just killed?" Kitty asked.

"Mm-hmm. I'll bring it back to life."

"You're a genius, Sam, not a miracle maker."

When he kept going, he heard her mutter to Noah, "Great! Now, I've issued some sort of challenge to his manhood and he has to prove me wrong."

The truth was, Sam could rebuild his phone in his damn sleep. But what he wished he could do in his sleep, was get this project up and running.

Maybe a part of his problem, was that it happened to be for Cindy's One-World charity and he'd promised her.

And he no longer broke promises.

Sam took the stairs because he hated the elevator, and when he stepped out into the courtyard, he stilled for a beat, soaking up his surroundings.

He'd grown up hard and fast and without a home. And this building had changed all that for him.

And normally, the sight of the fountain, the cobblestones, the building itself with its amazing old corbel brick architecture...all worked together to lighten his day.

But when he hadn't been looking, Christmas had taken over the place. There were garlands of evergreen entwined with twinkling white lights in every doorway and window frame.

And on top of that, all the potted trees that lined the walkways, had been done up like Christmas trees.

This being winter in San Francisco, specifically the district of Cow Hollow, the foggy afternoon air burned his lungs like ice.

He quickly grabbed his phone from the coin-filled fountain, dried it off on his pants, and shoved it into one of his pockets to restore later.

"Sam!" Wendy called out from the pet shop that opened into the courtyard. She ran a pet day care out of her shop and sometimes when Sam needed to think, he often did so, while walking her clients for her.

She gestured to the large dog snoozing in the sunspot, with a cat on either side of him.

"Got time to help me out?" she asked.

"Sure," Sam replied.

The dog was a regular client named Daisy. She was huge and un-coordinated...and in short, she was a few crayons short of a full box.

She came out of a dead sleep at the sound of Sam's voice, leaping over the cats in sheer joy, heading right for him.

When she got to him, she jumped up and down in place, attempting to lick his face.

And after a few seconds, he had her calmed down somewhat, and hooked up to the leash.

Sam hit the courtyard with her, heading towards the wrought-iron gates, so he could walk her to doggy Disneyland...aka, the park.

But Daisy wasn't a walker. She was a runner. More accurately, she was a 125-pound bunny, bounding with enthusiastic energy, tugging at the leash.

"Hold your horses, Daze," he said. "Save it for the park."

He muscled her to his side, his mind miles away on his drone problems.

Lost in thought, he wasn't exactly on his game, when a black cat appeared out of nowhere.

And with an excited bark, Daisy broke free to charge after it, heading back towards the fountain and the woman now standing there, suitcase at her side, arm primed to throw a coin into the water.

The cat managed to dodge the woman, but Daisy wasn't nearly as dexterous.

Barreling forward at warp speed, she clearly saw the problem at the last minute, because, she let out a bark of surprise and tried to drop her head as a way to stop, but her forward momentum was too much.

Her back end slid out from beneath her and she flipped onto her back, plowing headlong into the woman and toppling her over.

Right into the water.

"Jesus!" Sam murmured. "Stay," he said to Daisy and lurched forward, just as the woman pushed up to her hands and knees in the water, coughing and sputtering.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Gesturing that she didn't need his assistance, she swiped a hand down her face, muttering what sounded like.

"I should've gone to Toronto."

She was completely drenched thanks to him...rather, to Daisy, and yet, she wasn't yelling. In his book, she got serious points for that.

And because she was wearing one of those flowy dresses, that gave a man thoughts, about what might or might not be under said dress, along with a denim jacket and boots...all of which were now clinging to her and fighting her efforts...he stepped into the fountain to help her.

"The water's...warm," she said in surprise. "It's freezing out. How is the water warm?"

Sam looked down at the water. It was green and he could feel coins beneath the soles of his shoes.

"That can't be good," he said.

The woman choked up and he did a mental grimace.

He deserved the tears. Hell, he deserved fury.

But when she lifted her face, he realized she was laughing.

She'd found humor in this shitty situation.

And he felt something shift in his chest at that, a zing of attraction maybe, which he hadn't seen coming. In fact, he actually wasn't seeing too much at all, since he was now nearly as wet as she, including his glasses.

He took them off to wipe the lenses, on his equally wet shirt and eye contact was made.

She had big brown eyes. Big, brown, smiling eyes.

"I'm a mess," she said.

That wasn't what he was thinking. Her clothes were plastered to her body. Her very nice, curvy body.

He forced his gaze back to her face, then stepped out of the fountain and turned back for her, offering a hand.

She took it, but still fumbled, because her dress had shrink-wrapped itself to her legs, making moving all but impossible.

They struggled a moment, hands grappling for purchase on each other, until finally, Sam just wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her out, and then set her down on the ground.

"Wuff!"

Daisy had flopped around on her back for a few seconds, trying to right herself. Eventually, she'd given up and stayed down, tail wagging like crazy, and her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.

That is, until she eyed something in one of the big potted trees lining the courtyard, now decorated within an inch of their lives with lights and ornaments.

The black cat.

"Stay," Sam warned the dog and turned back to the woman.

"Thanks," she said, her voice matching her husky laugh. "Appreciate the help..." She paused, clearly waiting for him to fill in his name.

"Sam," he said, purposely skipping his last name. Anonymity was hard to come by lately, but he'd made a habit of keeping up the effort.

"Well," she said. "Thanks for the help, Sam."

And then she turned to walk away, leaving Sam with surprise written all over his handsome face.

"Wait!" Sam called.

He'd gotten her soaked and he felt terrible about that. He wanted to make sure she was okay, that he got her dry and warm.

"You didn't tell me your name."

She looked back, seeming oddly reluctant. "Mercedes," she said. "My name is Mercedes."

"Well, Mercedes, I can't let you just walk away. You've got to be freezing cold. At the very least, I owe you dry clothes and a warm drink."

"No, really. It's okay." She started to wring out her long, dark hair and paused. "You might want to stand back. My hair needs its own zip code when it's wet."

This made him smile.

"Oh, I'm not kidding," she said.

Out of all the women Sam had known in his life, he couldn't think of a single one who'd be taking this so well, and shit, he realized she was absently rubbing her elbow.

Gently, he pushed up the sleeve of her denim jacket and found an abrasion, along with an already blooming bruise.

"It's nothing," she said.

Maybe, but her skin was broken and he had no idea what was in that water.

"We need to clean that cut and ice your elbow. And I want to pay for your clothes to be cleaned or replaced..."

"Wuff!"

He shot the impatient Daisy a long look, that promised no cookies today, just as Kitty entered the courtyard, striding towards them with a concerned look on her face.

"Hi," she said to Mercedes. "I'm Kitty Wilde, the building manager. What happened? Are you okay?"

"She took a header into the water," Sam said. "Daisy's fault."

They all looked at Daisy, who was sitting there, seemingly smiling wide, without a concern in this world.

"I'm taking Mercedes upstairs," Sam said. "To clean out her cut and get her some dry clothes."

Kitty turned to him in shock.

But Sam understood the surprise. He usually avoided dealing with people, especially people he didn't know.

And then, there was the fact that his penthouse apartment was an inner sanctum, that he didn't let just anyone into.

"The gym," he clarified, which was on the top floor next to his apartment. It had its own entrance, separate from his living quarters and office.

"I'll take her," Kitty offered, doing as she always did, which was keeping herself between Sam and the rest of the world.

"Really," Mercedes said, her voice firm if not a little shaky. "It's not necessary. I'm fine."

Sam didn't claim to know all that much about women, but even he knew that fine, didn't mean fine.

The scale went great, good, okay, not okay, I hate you and fine.

Mercedes was beginning to tremble from the cold, as she gripped her suitcase and tried to walk off...not that her dress was having it.

After a few seconds, she stopped fighting it, sighed, and tilted her head back, to look upwards.

"Really? Are we serious with today?" she asked.

Both Sam and Kitty glanced up at the sky. There was nothing but clouds.

He looked over at Kitty, who was brows up, giving him a slow shake of her head. And while it was true that she was one of his best friends and he trusted her with his life, he didn't agree with her silent opinion, to just let the woman go.

He couldn't.

There was just something about the very wet, cute-yet-sexy Mercedes No-Last-Name, that appealed to him, in a way that nothing else had in a long time.

So when she tripped over her dress yet again and swore with a low, muttered

"Son of a beach!" he grabbed for her, keeping her upright.

"Please," Sam said, as Mercedes' clothes began to soak his. "Please let me help you."

At his other side, Kitty's mouth fell open. She wasn't used to hearing the word please from him.

Ignoring her, he kept his gaze on Mercedes.

Wary, she rolled her eyes, but gave a slight nod. She'd let him help her out, but she wasn't happy about it.

"Okay."

Stay safe!