Thank you kind people, for your unwavering support and for your kind words.

Standard disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Lucky in Love.

Falling in love is like eating a whole box of chocolates...it seems like a good idea at first...

The next day, Sam woke up in his bed, with a gloriously naked woman sprawled out over the top of him.

Not that he was opposed to such a phenomenon, but this gloriously naked woman, was all up in his space, and he'd always valued his own space.

He was a big guy and he didn't like to feel crowded. Mercedes was a little over half his height, and as it turned out, she was a bed hog. She was also a blanket hog and a pillow hog.

'It's okay,' he told himself.

It was okay that they'd slept together, because, they both knew what this was and what it wasn't.

And they'd fallen asleep together, that's all. It didn't mean anything. Now if it happened again...well, then he'd panic.

"Mercedes..."

She let out a soft snore, and Sam felt his heart squeeze.

'Fucking heart.'

"Mercedes? Are you working today?"

He already had one hand on her ass, so it was easy enough to add the other.

When he squeezed, then went exploring, a low appreciative moan escaped her lips, and she obligingly spread her legs, giving him more room to work, as she murmured something that sounded like,

"Don't stop."

Then, she froze and jerked upright.

"Whattimeisit?"

"Seven," he said, nuzzling his face in her crazy hair.

"Seven? Seven? I have to be gone!" She leapt out of the bed, frantically searching for her various pieces of clothing.

And Sam, enjoying the Naked Mercedes Show, leaned back, with his hands behind his head.

"Where are my panties?" she demanded.

"Under the chair."

She dove under the chair, giving him a heart-stopping view that made him groan.

"They're not here!" she yelled, voice muffled from her head-down-ass-up position.

"No? Check under my jeans then," he said.

She straightened, and hair in her face...hell, hair everywhere...gave him a narrowed gaze.

And he smiled.

She crawled to his jeans, giving him another hot view, and snatched her panties. With her clothes in her arms, she vanished into his bathroom.

And two minutes later she reappeared, dressed and looking thoroughly fucked.

"Come here," Sam said, smiling.

"Oh hell no! If I come over there, you're going to kiss me."

"Yeah," he said. "I am."

"And then you'll...you know.'

He laughed, feeling light-hearted and...happy.

"I do know. I know exactly what I want to do to you. I want to put my mouth on your..."

"Oh, God!"

Mercedes shook her head and grabbed her keys.

"I have to go!"

"Five minutes," he said, and thought he had her when she hesitated, biting her lower lip, and looking tempted. "It'll be the best five minutes of your day," he promised.

"I usually need more, like fifteen minutes."

"Not last night you didn't. Last night you only needed four before you..."

"Bye," she said, laughing, and headed out his door.

Sam lay there smiling like an idiot for a few minutes.

Then his phone beeped.

Rolling out of bed, he accessed his messages.

Once upon a time, not so long ago, there were only messages from Francine. That was no longer the case.

The first message was from Ray.

"Hey, man," the vet said. And that was it, the full extent of the message.

But it was pretty typical of Ray, and it could mean anything from 'let's have dinner' to 'I'm jonesing and need company.'

Mark had called as well, looking for a sparring partner. And Dr. Scott had called inquiring about his health...though Sam knew, he meant his mental health, not his leg.

Sam stared at his phone for a long moment, until his face morphed into a smile.

At some point, when he'd been busy resenting this slow-paced, sleepy little town and everyone in it, something had happened.

He'd made ties, strings on the heart, he wasn't even sure he had.

But his smile faded, as he listened to his last message, which contained no words, just a seething silence.

'Francine.'

He knew he should call her and check in. After all, he was cleared to go back. But he didn't call. Instead, he checked up on Ray, and then finished the last of the cars lined up for him...Mark's Jimmy.

Now he could go back.

Probably.

Sam showered and drove to the Health Services Clinic, just as it was closing up for the day.

It was Thursday, and he knew there were no activities or meetings scheduled there that night.

He'd checked.

The front room was empty, but he could hear voices, so he followed them and found Mercedes in one of the small rooms, with the door open.

She was facing a woman, who looked to be in her sixties.

The woman was sitting in a chair, with her face pinched, like she'd eaten a sour apple.

Mercedes was wearing purple scrubs today, and it was a good color for her. Her hair had been tied back, probably hours ago, and as usual, strands had escaped.

She wasn't good at hiding her feelings, and right now, she was on edge...tired and frustrated.

She's probably had a long day, made longer, since the two of them had spent most of the night, tearing up his sheets.

He knew exactly what he'd do to relax her, but he had to remind himself, that she wasn't his to take care of.

He was leaving, and someday, maybe someday soon, she'd stay up all night with someone else. Someone who would take care of her, and help her unwind at the end of the day.

Maybe, it will be someone from her list.

But if it was Andrews, he was going to kick his ass, on principle alone.

And if it was Dr. Scott, he'd...

It would be whoever Mercedes chose, and Sam had nothing to say about it, not even if her new Mr. Wrong, used the guise of showing her, how to hold a tool, just so he could kiss her.

Not even if that Mr. Wrong bent her over a piece of furniture, taking her in front of a mirror, forcing her to see how gorgeous and amazing she really was.

It was none of his business.

But it sucked...really sucked.

"Just trust me," Mercedes said to her patient, moving to a cabinet.

She pulled a set of keys from her pocket and eyed the medicine samples lined up there, before grabbing a box.

"Take these. One a day."

"What are you poisoning me with now?" the woman asked.

"Vitamins," Mercedes replied.

The woman set the samples down.

"Vitamins are a sham. It's the drug companies' way of making money off unsuspecting idiots, like me."

Mercedes placed the vitamins back into the woman's hands.

"Your blood work shows you're anemic. These will help. Or you can keep passing out in the bathroom and waiting until EMS finds you on the floor, with your pants at your ankles again. Your choice, Mrs. Garland."

There was a long silence, during which the woman glared at Mercedes.

"You used to be afraid of me. You used to quail and tremble like a little girl."

"Things change," Mercedes said, in a mild voice. There was no judgment, no recriminations. "Take the vitamins. Don't make me come over every night and pinch your nose and shove them down your throat."

"Well fine, if you're going to out-mean me."

"I am," she said firmly.

"See, you have changed. You've gotten a tough skin. You've learned to hold back and keep your emotions off your sleeve. You are very welcome."

"Oh, it wasn't all you," Mercedes said, and Sam felt an odd tightening in his chest, because, he knew who'd changed her.

It was him.

'I'm such an asshole!'

Turning from the woman, Mercedes caught sight of Sam standing there. And her surprised smile, only added to the ache in his chest.

But he nodded to her and stepped back, going to lean against the wall in the hall, to wait.

Mercedes looked at her patient, and kindly said,

"I have something else for you, hold on."

Then, she went out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

She flashed Sam another smile and vanished into the next room.

When she returned, she handed her patient some flyers, before guiding her from the exam room and out front.

A few minutes later she was back.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey. You need a lock on the front door when you're here alone," Sam said.

"I wasn't alone until now, and this is Lucky Harbor. I'm as safe as it gets."

"You're not safe here with the drugs."

"The meds are locked."

"It's a flimsy lock," he said. "Especially for someone who's desperate."

"It's only temporary. We're getting a much better set-up next week."

She smiled, still not taking her safety seriously enough for him.

"So what's up? What brings you here?"

"You owe me a favor," he said. "And I'm collecting."

She sputtered, then laughed.

"I owe you a favor? Since when?"

"Since the night I pretended to be your date at the auction."

"Pretended? You were supposed to be my date all along," Mercedes reminded him.

"But I was concussed and didn't remember making the date. Which means, that you owe me for that, too...taking advantage of an injured guy." He tsked. "Shame on you, Mercedes Jones. Imagine what people would say, if they knew you'd done such a thing."

Mercedes narrowed her eyes, clearly amused by his playfulness, but not fully trusting him.

'Smart girl. I shouldn't be trusted. Not by a long shot.'

"So, what exactly is this favor?" Mercedes asked. "And don't tell me it involves any storage rooms." She paused. "Okay, so we both know, I'd hop into another closet with you so fast, it'd make your head spin."

With a laugh, Sam pushed off the wall and came towards her.

"It's not that," he said. "I need the same thing you needed that night."

"An orgasm?" she asked cheekily.

"Only if you ask very nicely. But I meant a date."

Her expression went dubious.

"A date? Now?"

"Yes."

She went from dubious to blank-faced.

"A last date?"

'Well, hell!'

What could he say to that?

It was the truth.

"Actually," Sam started. "I don't believe we ever had a first date."

He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, brushing his lips against her palm, as he watched her over their joined fingers.

"Say yes, Mercedes."

Staring at him, Mercedes turned her hand, cupping his face, her fingers gliding across his jaw.

"Always," she softly said.

And Sam felt his heart roll, exposing its underbelly. But there was nothing he could do about that. He was equipped to eliminate threats, protect and serve.

Not to love.

Never to love.

Mercedes didn't know what to expect.

Sam wouldn't tell her where they were going, but they were on the highway, heading towards Seattle.

Once there, he drove to a very swank block, lined with designer shops and parked.

"Um..." she said.

He pulled her out of the car and into a dress shop.

"Something for the orchestra," he said to the pretty sales woman, who came forward. Then, he turned to Mercedes. "Whatever you want."

She was confused.

"What?"

"The auction. The night on the town package."

Again, she just gaped at him.

"Was that supposed to be a full explanation?"

"It's tonight," he said. "Tonight's the last night of the orchestra."

"So you what, kidnapped me, to take me to it?"

"I thought you could use a night off. And you said, you never got to date much." He looked endearingly baffled. "And don't women like this surprise romantic shit?"

"What, do you mean by romantic shit?"

He winced, and for the first time since she'd known him, he was looking uncomfortable in his own skin.

"You're right," Sam said. "This was a stupid idea. It's not too late to call this whole thing off and go get a pizza and beer. Whatever you want."

Sam had grown up on military bases and then given his adult years over to the same lifestyle. And Mercedes knew, he was far more at ease, in the role of a big, bad tough guy, than a romance guy.

She also knew, he'd rather have a pizza and beer, over the orchestra.

And yet, he'd thought of her.

He wanted to give her a night off.

He wanted to share that night off with her, and he'd brought her to a place, filled with gorgeous, designer clothes to do it, so that she wouldn't stress about the lack thereof, in her own closet.

It was a send off, a finale, a good-bye, and she knew it.

But damn.

Damn, she wanted this...with him.

Stepping into him, Mercedes went up on tip-toe and kissed Sam's smooth jaw.

He'd shaved for her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He turned his head and claimed her mouth in one quick, hot kiss.

"Take your time. I'll be waiting."

'If only that was true,' she thought, with a sigh.

Just then, a limo pulled up front, and that's when she remembered, the package came with a limo.

"Oh my God!" she softly exclaimed.

Sam leaned in close and discreetly said,

"I'm hoping by the end of the night, you'll be saying, Oh Sam!"

With that, he walked out the front door, towards the limo.

And Mercedes stared after him.

"That man is crazy," she said.

"He's crazy fine," the sales clerk murmured. "And he did say, whatever you wanted..." She gestured around her. "So what would you like?"

Thirty minutes later, Mercedes was decked out in a silky, strappy, siren-red dress, that made her feel like a sex kitten.

Earlier, she kept trying to see the price tag, but the clerk had been discreet, and firm.

"He said you weren't allowed to look at the prices."

'Good Lord!'

But, by the time she exited the shop, she felt like Cinderella. And her prince stepped out of the limo to greet her, in a well-fitted, expensive suit, that nearly made her trip over, her new strappy high-heeled sandals.

She'd seen him in a suit before.

And she'd seen him in jeans, and in cargoes, and in nothing at all. And he always looked mouth-wateringly gorgeous. But tonight, there was a difference.

"Wow!" she breathed.

Ignoring that, Sam took her hand and pulled her in.

"You take my breath away," he simply said.

And that's when she realized what it was.

It was his eyes. He was looking at her differently. Heart-stoppingly differently. And suddenly, she felt as though she was floating.

Dinner was at a French restaurant and was so amazing, Mercedes was starting to regret, not going one size up on the dress.

But the wine quickly reduced any lingering anxiety.

The only problem with that was, combined with a long day and almost no sleep the night before, by the time they got to the orchestra, her eyes were drooping.

Still, she accepted another glass of white wine, and they found their seats, just as the curtain went up.

And that's the last thing Mercedes remembered about the orchestra.

When she awoke, the theater was nearly empty, and Sam was leaning over her, with an amused smile on his face.

"What?" she said, blinking, and slightly confused. "Where?"

His smile spread to a grin.

"You snore."

"I do not!"

She straightened, stared at the closed curtain on the stage and took in the fact that, the few people left around them, were leaving.

"It's over? I missed the whole thing?"

Sam pulled her to her feet.

"That's okay, baby. You didn't miss the best part."

"What's the best part?"

"Wait for it," he softly said and her heart rate sped up.

Sam led Mercedes back to the limo.

Once on the inside, he closed the partition between them and the driver, then pulled her onto his lap.

"Is this the best part?" she asked breathlessly, when he slid his hands beneath her dress and palmed her butt cheeks, bared by her lacy thong.

"Wait for it," he whispered against her mouth, and spent the drive back to his car, creating a slow burn with nothing more than his mouth on hers and his hands caressing her curves.

"More," she demanded.

"Wait for it," he repeated.

"I'm growing very tired of those three words," she said.

However, he drove her home, then walked her in, and slowly stripped her out of her beautiful new dress, bra and panties, groaning at the sight of her in just her heels.

"So help me, Sam Evans, if you tell me to wait for it one more time..." Mercedes warned, hands on her bare hips.

"Christ, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said. He gave her a little push, and she fell to her bed. "I know how tired you are, so feel free to just lay there and relax."

"I'm not tired," she said. "I took a very nice nap at the orchestra."

With a soft laugh, he crawled up her body, taking little nips out of her as he went.

"I'm offering to do all the work here," he said.

"I'm more of an equal opportunity type of woman."

He smiled against her mouth.

"Is that right? Well, however you want to be, is fine with me. But you should know, I'm ready for the best part now."

"Me too. What is it?" she asked eagerly.

He gently bit her lower lip and tugged, then let it go, soothing the ache with his tongue, and making every single nerve ending on her body stand up and beg for the same treatment.

"You. You're the best part."

Her heart caught.

"Me?"

"Definitely you," he breathed, and then set about proving it.

Stay safe!