Thank you for your continued interest. I appreciate it.

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

Once again, please forgive any mistakes.

After the happy duo of Sam and Mercedes docked and helped Pam lock things up for the night, Sam took Mercedes on a long walk along the Embarcadero.

The pylons, the benches, the streetlights...everything had been decorated for the holiday and she loved the look of it.

It had rained earlier for long enough, that everything felt clean and shimmered with condensation. And for the first time in years, she was excited for the season, even though she knew she'd be gone by Christmas Day.

But, it was her hope, to take the holiday cheer back home with her.

"It's so beautiful here with all the decorations," Mercedes said, her breath crystalizing in front of her face. "I've never seen anything like it."

"New York doesn't do it up for the holidays?" Sam asked.

"Yes, but I mean..." She broke off, not sure what she meant at all. "It just seems...nice. Really nice. And like it could all be true...Santa Claus and all that."

Sam smiled.

"You don't believe in Santa?" he asked.

"Well...let's just say, I have mixed feelings about the holiday."

"Hmmm. A cynic in a sweet package."

Mercedes rolled her eyes, but he reached for her hand and pulled her into him.

"Talk to me," he said.

"For as long as I can remember...I've been Santa."

Sam looked at her in surprise.

"I told you, my dad left us when I was little," she said and then paused. "It was on Christmas Eve."

"Seriously?" Sam tightened his arm around her. "What the hell's wrong with him?"

She shrugged, and truthfully, she didn't know.

"He wasn't made to be a family man. And actually, my mom said we were better off without him. And I have to believe that."

"I'm sorry," Sam said quietly. "That's a shitty memory to carry around."

Mercedes really didn't like to talk about this.

Correction...she never talked about this.

So why she was suddenly opening up, and to a man who lived three thousand miles away from her...was a big unsolved mystery.

Or maybe it wasn't.

There was still something about this place and about Sam Evans, that made her want to be something she'd never been...open and carefree.

But maybe...just maybe, to be those things, she had to let go of her past.

"Not everyone's cut out to be a parent," Mercedes said.

"I agree," Sam said. He paused. "I got lucky with my parents. My dad didn't have it easy, because, my grandpa was a hard-ass but a brilliant inventor. And that was a tough act to follow."

He smiled a little wryly, then added,

"So, to the everlasting frustration of Grandpa, my dad didn't even try. He was a family man to the end."

The tone of Sam's voice had Mercedes' heart squeezing.

"You lost him," she said softly.

He nodded.

"A few years ago...to cancer."

"It must've been hard on your mom."

"Very," Sam said. "But she's taken up something she couldn't do, when my dad was alive. Traveling."

"Why couldn't she travel with your dad?"

"They didn't have the means, but even if they had, he hated flying." Sam shook his head. "He always said, that if people were meant to fly, we'd have been born with wings."

Mercedes laughed and he smiled at her, bringing their joined hands up to his mouth, where he brushed a kiss to her fingers, before taking a look around them.

"You're right. It is pretty amazing out here. I guess I forgot to see it like I used to," Sam said.

"How long have you been here?" Mercedes asked.

"All my life." He was still looking around, as if, trying to see the city from her eyes. "I grew up not too far from here, actually."

"In Fisherman's Wharf?" she asked, having studied online maps of San Francisco's famed neighborhoods.

She was dying of curiosity about this man, who was so private.

"The Tenderloin," Sam said.

An area, she now knew, that had once been one of the toughest and most degenerate places in all of San Francisco.

"Does your mom still live there?"

"No, these days, she lives on the coast about an hour south of here."

He didn't mention his grandpa again.

Maybe he'd passed away too. Or maybe they weren't close.

But she didn't want to pry.

Well, to be honest, she totally did want to pry, but she didn't want to open it up, in a way that would require her to do the same back.

She'd told him all she'd planned to. In fact, she'd told him more than she'd planned to. And in any case, she was here to not...think.

Sam was watching her.

"So...if there is a Santa Claus, what would you ask him for?" he asked.

'You,' she nearly said. She'd want him for Christmas and no take-backs.

"I'd like my book to write itself," she said instead.

Sam smiled.

"And you'd want what?" she asked. "Maybe your project to invent itself?"

"That would be high on the list."

When Mercedes yawned, they headed back, stopping for dessert at a cupcake shop.

"Did you know, that once you lick the frosting off a cupcake, it becomes a muffin?" she asked. "And muffins are healthy."

She leaned in and took a lick of Sam's frosting.

"You are welcome," she said.

He laughed and so did she, because she loved the sound of his laugh.

And when a sprinkle got stuck in the stubble of his jaw, she had some fun with him, playfully misdirecting him, as he tried to get it.

"Maybe you should shave," she teased.

"You have no idea how lucky girls are, that they don't have to shave every day," Sam said. "You've all got it easy."

Mercedes choked on a laugh.

"Says the guy, who's never had to navigate a razor around his kneecaps or..." She paused "...any other specific areas."

He chuckled, his eyes full of amusement.

"Not funny," she said. "It's a suicide mission."

A few minutes later, Sam guided Mercedes into the cobblestoned courtyard, of the Pacific Pier Building.

It was midnight and the place looked like a holiday dream, with strings of white lights and each of the potted trees lining the walkway, decorated with colorful ornaments.

"Kitty went overboard this year," he muttered.

"So she works for you?" Mercedes asked.

"More like, she allows me to pay her to be bossy."

Mercedes laughed.

"They say friends and business don't mix."

"She's family," Sam said simply.

Mercedes nodded, thinking that sounded...lovely. Really lovely.

"So...what are your holiday plans?" she asked. "Will you spend Christmas with your mom?"

"Probably not."

She glanced up at him, startled.

"No?"

"She went back east to see friends. I'll probably spend it at the pub with Fergus, Kitty and Artie...and the others. We're a sort of misfit, ride-or-die self-made family."

Coming from a family that was close, only because she'd kept them together by sheer force of will, Mercedes envied the whole family-by-choice thing in a big way.

"How about you?" Sam asked.

She shrugged.

"I'll spend it at home with my brothers and mom, like always. We'll fight, also like always, but old habits die hard."

Sam cocked his head and studied her.

"You do know, you're allowed to do whatever you want, right? It's the only perk to this whole adulting thing."

Mercedes let out a small laugh.

"Never mind me. Christmas sometimes makes me a little..."

"Hollow?" he asked.

She met his gaze.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Let's just say, I've been there."

A little off her axis, Mercedes looked at the pretty fountain.

"Do you really not believe in the legend?" she asked.

Sam lifted a shoulder.

And she turned to him.

"How about love? Do you believe in love?"

And for some reason, she held her breath as she waited for his answer.

Sam paused and chose his words wisely.

"I believe it's out there for most."

"Gee, that's only a little cryptic."

He gave a rough laugh.

"Here's the thing. My family...when it comes to work and love, we tend to only do one of them well. Not both. So we choose."

Mercedes raised her brows.

"And you chose...work?"

He shrugged again.

"It's what I do best."

"So you've tried love before, then," she said. "And...failed?"

"Big-time."

"Do you think you could possibly explain that, with more than two words?" she asked.

A smile touched his lips.

"I told you about my grandpa. He was a workaholic. His entire life was the job...to the detriment of his family, which he completely ignored. My dad learned a lesson from that. He chose love. I was raised by two loving, if not a little baffled-by-me parents, who did the best they could. Even if they didn't always have the rent money, they had each other. But I always knew, that what they shared, wasn't going to be for me."

"Why not?" Mercedes asked.

"Because...I'm shitty at love." He paused. "And I hated being poor."

"You really believe you can only have one or the other?" she asked in disbelief.

"I know it. In college, women would give me their phone numbers and I'd forget to call."

"Forget?"

"Well, I was sixteen," he said.

Mercedes raised her brows.

"At that age, you would've been both physically and emotionally behind everyone else."

"Yeah. I definitely preferred labs over women, which didn't help me out any."

She grinned.

"That seems to have changed."

Sam's smile was satirical.

"Yes, but not by much. My last girlfriend, Cindy...she was positive she was going to be the one."

"And she...wasn't?"

"We met when I was working for the government," he said. "She was in medical school at the time, and just as busy as I was. At first, everything was fine between us, because we didn't ask much of each other. Though in hindsight, I think I asked nothing of her, seeing as my head was always in my work. And she didn't ask anything of me either, because she knew that. And she didn't try to compete. Which really meant, that I shortchanged her at every turn, even though I really cared about her. I tried to put her on my radar, I really did. We even moved into an apartment, the theory being, that at least we'd sleep together every night."

Mercedes was working at not feeling the teensiest little bit of jealousy.

No one had ever tried that hard to keep her. She got that the point to this story, was that Sam had shortchanged his girlfriend, but all she saw, was that he'd at least given it everything he'd had at the time to give.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We stayed together for several years. She began a charity organization, that brought meds and doctors to remote corners of the world...desperate remote corners...which meant she was gone a lot. Which worked for me. It became easy to forget her needs...to forget to put her first. I got out of that habit way too easily. And then came a huge fund-raiser she'd co-chaired, and it was incredibly important to her. As it was the only thing she'd asked of me all year, I promised to go."

He shook his head.

"She reminded me every day for two weeks and every day for two weeks, I brushed off her concerns that I'd forget."

"And...you forgot," Mercedes guessed.

"I did."

He looked pained.

"I didn't show up and she went without me, and I didn't realize I'd forgotten the most important night of her life, until she got home late that night dressed to the hilt, steam coming out her ears."

"So she dumped you," Mercedes said, surprised. Up until that moment, she'd assumed he'd been the one to break it off.

"Oh yeah, she dumped me," Sam said ruefully. "She said I was going to end up a lonely old man someday. Actually, she yelled that part, right after chucking a shoe at my head. Then she packed her things and moved out, leaving my sorry ass in her dust."

"Ouch!"

"Yeah, well. I deserved it. I was a self-absorbed, selfish dick."

"You don't seem self-absorbed or selfish to me," Mercedes said.

"Like I said, give me some time."

Mercedes didn't believe this. Or more accurately, she didn't want to believe it.

But the thing is, Sam said only what he meant, and she knew he meant this, to his core. He'd warned her from the beginning that he would disappoint her.

But she just didn't want it to be true.

"The truth is," Sam said, "I'm busy all the time and no woman is going to be okay with that for the long term. So, undoubtedly, I'm going to end up a lonely old man, just like Cindy so aptly predicted."

"I don't believe that," Mercedes said. "I've seen you engrossed in work. Yet, you still make time for your friends. And me."

"That's because you're a welcome distraction." He tugged her hair. "Beautiful, funny, smart...but a definite distraction, nevertheless."

Mercedes stared at Sam, torn between melting at what he thought of her and wanting to cry at the knowledge, that this would never be anything more than an amazing interlude.

"Good thing, then, that I'm just a temporary one," she said, with more cheer than she felt. Because what she felt, was a hollow pit in the depths of her gut, that she didn't want to name.

She pulled a quarter from her purse and turned to the fountain.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Making a wish."

She tossed the quarter into the water and closed her eyes.

"For...?" he asked, sounding worried.

"For true love. For you." Mercedes opened her eyes and grinned at his horror. "See, you do believe."

"You're a scary woman," he said.

"Now you're catching on," she said, just as, from inside her pocket, her phone went off again.

She sighed.

"You should probably make sure the house is still standing," Sam said. "Here, let me."

He took the phone and looked at the screen.

"Do you have a third brother named Johnathan?"

"No." She took the phone back and stared at it before hitting ignore.

"Problem?" Sam asked.

Mercedes took a deep breath, realizing, that she'd so thoroughly distanced herself from her life for the past week, she'd actually forgotten about Johnathan.

"He's my agent."

Sam looked surprised.

"You must be close to being published to have an agent. That's great, Mercedes."

His encouragement was sweet, but it also made her feel guilty, for not telling him about this part of her life.

'You've only known him five days,' she silently reminded herself. 'And this escape is private.'

And extremely important to both her mental health and her career. And whether they knew it or not, it was also important to her family, staff, and editorial team, all of whom counted on her.

And in fact, just thinking about it, she felt the familiar smothering pressure, to sustain the franchise her life had become, sink into her chest.

Mercedes looked into Sam's eyes and knew she couldn't do it...couldn't, shouldn't, and wouldn't keep secrets from him.

Yes, he was private, incredibly so. But he was honest.

And she needed to be the same. At least as much as she could be.

"You know how you're bad at love?" she asked. "Well, so am I. I picked Johnathan as my first love and it wasn't reciprocated."

Sam's eyes were sympathetic but not pitying, which was a good thing.

A nice thing.

"Since the past sucks," he murmured, slowly pulling her into him, and kissing her jaw, "Maybe we should stick to the present."

'Good idea. Great idea,' she thought, but she wasn't done coming clean.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" His mouth was on her throat now, so erotic and sensual, that she felt her eyes roll back in her head.

"There're things about me that I still haven't told you," she whispered. "Things I'm not ready to talk about, at least not yet. Are you okay with that?"

He met her gaze and held it.

"I want only what you're willing to give me, Mercedes. No more."

For a moment, that stopped her.

He wanted only what she was willing to give, meaning, he didn't need anything more than that. Which meant, he really was fine with this being whatever it was, until she left.

And after that, the end.

And as she'd said, that was what she wanted too, she had no business even thinking about it.

None at all.

But she was thinking about it, a lot.

She was thinking how nice it would be, if they decided to take this wherever it took them, even passed their Christmas Eve expiration date.

Unfortunately, he wasn't though, and she swallowed hard, passed the disappointment before she spoke.

"Given what I just told you, and how I'd feel in reverse, meaning, if you were telling me that you were holding something back, I wouldn't blame you if you want to walk away," Mercedes said softly.

And it was with mixed feelings, that she watched him crane his neck to look around them, certain he was about to do just that.

"We're alone out here," Sam said instead and pulled her in closer. "Which is pretty rare."

"Sam..."

"We all have secrets, Mercedes," he said and kissed her gently, his passion clearly in check. "And we laid out our line in the sand from the beginning."

"That being...that this thing between us is temporary, right?" she said. "Because, I'm neither relationship material nor geographically desirable, and you're..."

"Bad at this," he helpfully filled in for her.

She nodded and then she shook her head.

"Except, you're not bad at this, Sam."

"I am," he insisted. "And that's a promise."

"So, you're saying, that it's a good thing we don't have time?"

He gave her a small smile.

Yeah. That's exactly what he was saying, she thought, that it was a good thing they didn't have time.

Again, she worked to shove the disappointment deep, but wasn't entirely successful.

'Time to pull back and regroup,' she thought to herself.

"I had fun tonight," Mercedes said. "Thanks for the date. It was pretty incredible."

"You're more than welcome. I had a great time too," Sam replied.

The warmth in his gaze, the heat from his body...

Even with what they'd just discussed, it was all heady stuff. More so, when he wrapped his hand around her ponytail and used it to bring her face closer to his.

And then, he gave her what she was pretty sure, he'd intended to be another quick kiss...but wasn't.

Not by a long shot.

And when it ended, she had to lock her knees, to keep from slipping into a puddle of longing on the ground.

With a gravelly groan low in his throat, Sam drew himself away from Mercedes.

"That's getting harder to do," he said.

"Kiss me?" she asked.

"To stop kissing you," he corrected. "The fountain must be taking your wish seriously."

She saw the teasing light in his eyes, swirled in with a good amount of heat, and managed a smile in return, even though she thought, it was probably true, the fountain was taking her wish very seriously indeed.

Stay safe, but enjoy life!