The slip of paper Puck passed him earlier that day weighted heavily in Sam's hand.

He clutched it closer before releasing his grip on it not a second later, as if it was so fragile it could break into pieces along with the tightening he began to feel in his chest.

His glance flutter downwards, scanning through the numbers he could almost memorize from the numerous times he had looked at it.

Yet, he still debated whether to actually pick up his phone and dial the actual numbers.

Pushing himself off the couch he had been sitting in since he got home from work, he stepped into his kitchen for a glass of water to calm himself down.

Why was he so damn nervous?

He thought as he gulped the water down the ache of his throat, his free hand pushing through the mess of his blonde locks.

Maybe cause it's Quinn Fabray you're gonna speak to? The stupid voice in his mind answered.

Sam groaned at the reply and almost tugged at the strands of hair his hand was tangled in.

Whatever. Screw this. Puck got this for me at the risk of his friendship. The least I should do is call her... right?

Nodding to himself, he never questioned his own sanity for having the conversation with himself and set the cup down, making his way back to the couch.

He fished his phone from the pockets of his uniform and set the piece of paper next to it.

I'm gonna do this. No matter what.

He sucked in a deep breath and looked at the numbers again, almost uncertain of his decision.

Another minute passed before he finally took his phone in his hands and typed in his password with his hands still trembling.

When he manage to punch in the numbers after a long debate later, he found himself unable to make the final move.

What if she hangs up on me?

What if she's with Biff?

The last thought scared him so much his phone almost fell out of his grip.

Hell. Who cares.

He snorted through his nose, folding his arms cross his chest.

She's the one owing explanations. To him. Or, to me.

He took another breath through his nose again and finally hit the 'call' button.

A soft rhythm began to play as he pressed the phone closer to his ears. It sounded as if...

He felt his heart stop momentarily. Lucky.

Do you hear me? I'm talking to you.

Across the water, across the deep blue ocean.

Under the open sky.

Oh my, oh baby I'm trying.

He started losing himself in the all-so-familiar song that he barely noticed it being cut off and a curious "hello" being breathed from the end of the call.

He forgot how to breathe again at that instant. He had never forgotten the sound of her voice and a smile crept onto his facial features instinctively at how it never changed.

He never had the chance to really hear her voice that night before she left hurriedly and hearing it now, he felt as though they went back in time, to six years back.

A soft cough sounded from her end and the tapping of her feet - the definite indication Quinn was annoyed - brought Sam back to earth.

"Who's this? If you're not speaking, I'm hanging up."

Shit. Crap.

What am I supposed to say? Hi? Or...?

"Quinn?" He tried hesitantly, sounding like a frightened mouse in the wake of his imminent death.

He could hear a sigh escaping her lips, probably glad her caller finally spoke up.

"Yes, this is Quinn Fabray," he heard her confirm.

"Who am I speaking to?" She added, the hint of curiosity still evident in her tone.

His throat went dry. He ran through endless possibilities of introduction in his head, but nothing struck him as the appropriate response.

"S-Sam."

The soft breathing from Quinn's end seemed to stop as he felt the air tense. Did she know it was him? Her Sam?

Afraid of her mistaking him for someone else, he cleared his throat once before continuing in a straighter tone.

"Sam Evans."

He never waited for her reply, though he could feel she was still taking in the news that her ex-boyfriend of six years was currently on the phone with her.

"We need to talk."

The silence from her side was making him more nervous than ever. It was only then he started to question whether she was still listening to him or had she already hung up.

Before he could ask, he heard her voice once more.

"We have nothing to talk about," came her words, firm and resolved.

"What do you mean nothing?" He blurted out, stinging from the cold words. Did she really think so?

Apparently, since she followed up with a "yes, nothing".

"You heard me, Sam," her voice dropped low. "Whatever was left to say was said."

"Oh, really?"

He heard she inhale a sharp intake of breath as she adsorbed his equally cold words, having not heard it before back when they were dating.

He almost cursed at himself for lashing out at her before he caught himself; they weren't dating any more, he had no need to be sweet and caring like he once did.

He conceded to changing gears, dropping his voice as low as hers.

"Whatever you may think," he mumbled.

"Don't you think I deserve an explanation? Face to face?"

She sighed, recovering her composure from earlier. "I don't think we should meet."

He almost doubted the words he heard. Did that weak and feeble voice just came out of her mouth? That was not the Quinn he knew. Or loved.

"You know what? I don't care."

"What?" He heard her exclaim in surprise, completely caught off guard by his reply.

"Well, that's good. You see, Sam, I..."

He never allowed her to finish, since he was never really done with saying what he actually meant.

"Does Biff know about us?"

"N-No.." The automatic response left her lips without a second of hesitation.

"Sam, don't tell me..."

"Yes."

The word came out of his mouth so quickly it stopped her in her tracks.

"If you don't want him to know, then we should talk."

"Is this a threat I'm hearing now, Sam Evans?"

She sounded angry, more alive than that tone he had heard earlier.

Good. He liked feisty Quinn better than the weak ol' Quinn she was when he saw her that night with Biff.

"Oh yes, it is." He replied, a smug grin playing off his lips.

He heard her snort and a distant rumbling sound from the end of her line.

"Fine," she finally said after a short while.

Fine?

He could hardly contain himself at her agreeing. It took everything in him not to pump his fist out in the air at the small victory. He had never resorted to threatening in his life and he could barely believe his virgin attempt to be successful.

"But," she cleared her throat, bringing him back to attention.

"But what?"

"But," she repeated. "This is a one-time thing. I repeat, one-time. Don't expect me to do this ever again."

He rolled his eyes in response, knowing fully well she was unable to see it. He readjusted his tie, still loosely hanging around his neck, and shrugged.

"Sure," he agreed casually. "One-time."

"Great," he heard her sigh in resignation. "Look, I gotta go."

"Wait, wait," he jumped to his feet in alarm, desperate for more time with her. "Why don't we meet now?"

"Sam." Her firm voice returned.

"Uh...? What?"

"It's late, okay. And I.. I'm going home."

"It's only five past nine. It's not late."

"Yes it is," she groaned in frustration. "There's a limit to the amount of things I can concede to you for a day."

The corners of his lips curled into a satisfied smile. He had never imagined getting off the call as successful as this and now? Hearing her basically admit letting him do whatever he want was a bonus.

"Aw c'mon..." He started to protest before hearing a faint voice call out.

"Quinn, baby?" He could barely make out a male voice mumble in the distance. "Are you there? I'm done, babe. We can go home now."

"Coming!" Quinn replied, her voice muffled as though she had covered the speaker with her hand.

"Who's that?" Sam asked almost immediately.

"Uh.. Look, I really have to go, okay?"

"Biff?" The name still caused the familiar ache in his chest, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. He had no idea why he must press her for an answer and he practically wanted to rip his mouth off for saying that carelessly.

He heard hesitation in her voice before she acknowledged.

"Yes. We'll talk later okay? Bye, Sam."

A click was heard and her voice, just like that, was gone.

As he lay sprawling across his bed, he thought through his earlier conversation with Quinn.

Why couldn't we meet?

Since she never bothered telling Biff about us, there's no reason at all why they shouldn't meet.. right?

I'm so insignificant to her that she finds unworthy of mentioning about us to him.

His eyebrows wrinkled together and he tossed his body around his bed, unable to find a comfortable position to rest himself.

Unable to take his restlessness in, he quickly grabbed his phone from his table-stand and typed out a quick message to Quinn.

When would be a good time to meet?

He hit 'send' and placed his phone next to him, eyeing it every few seconds as he awaited her reply. His eyebrows creased together after a few minutes to find no response from her and he shot a quick look to his clock.

It was only eleven twenty. She couldn't be asleep that early.

He took his phone in his grasp again, wanting to send another message to urge her response when his phone vibrated with a new text.

I'm busy these days. Maybe not so soon.

Was she trying to get out of it? Not that easy.

Oh yeah? I think Biff knows exactly how busy you are.

This time round, her response was as quick as a split second and a tiny smile spread across his features, knowing she was probably pissed again.

Gosh, Sam. Really?

His phone vibrated with another text.

How the hell did you even get my number anyway?

Puck got it for me.

Puck? Biff's friend, you mean?

Yep. And my fellow co-worker/best friend.

I should have known it. Who else could you get it from? Can't believe he actually did that.

Stop avoiding the main point, Q.

What? He could almost imagine her hissing at her phone.

When will be a good time to meet up?

I wasn't kidding when I said I was busy just now.

Oh yeah sure... Nope, it didn't sound like an excuse to avoid meeting me.

Samuel.

He almost grimaced reading how she typed his birth name. She always used 'Samuel' instead of the normal 'Sam' people call him by when he did something really stupid or ignorant to ruffle her feathers.

Okay, fine. What are you busy with?

I don't think you have any business knowing.

Well... it'll help in convincing myself you're actually busy.. so..

Fine, fine. I have an upcoming party later this weekend and I have to rush out like two scripts before next month. So yes I'm very very busy.

What party?

Like I said, none of your business.

Tell me. Why? Are you scared I'd crash your little party?

No but I still have no reason to tell you what I'm up to.

Maybe Biff would tell me...?

Seriously, Sam. Stop with the threats okay? It's getting on my nerves.

Then tell me.

You really wouldn't want to know. Trust me.

I think what you don't trust is me actually acting true to my words.

Fine.

He was about to reply her for the brief message that made no sense when an incoming text snapped him out of his concentration.

It's my house-warming party.

Congrats. Why is that something I shouldn't know?

Didn't Puck tell you?

Tell me what?

That I'm living with Biff.

Oh.

The admission had rendered him into a state of speechlessness and he could not find any words to reply to the message she had responded with.

Suddenly it became clear. No wonder Biff said "we can go home now" earlier. Sam had thought he was just dropping her off at her place and nothing more, not actually going home with her to their place.

Why didn't Puck mention this fact to him before passing him her number?

He shrugged to himself, suppressing the emptiness he felt in his chest that he had almost felt immune to as he picked his phone up again and checked her messages.

I told you you wouldn't want to know..

Are you seriously mad over it?

See what happens when you don't listen to me?

He shook his head slightly, collecting his thoughts before responding.

I'm not mad. It's fine. When is it? This weekend?

This Saturday, actually. That's the only day everyone's free.

I'm free too.

What?

I mean... I'm free too. So... I can go right?

Do you even know what you're saying?

Of course I do. Do you think I've gone insane or something?

No but...

If I'm fine with it, you can be too right...?

Yes but...

Plus... Biff doesn't know about us. So what he doesn't know wouldn't kill him right?

I guess so... But.. are you sure?

Positive. Besides, that's the earliest I can meet you right? Since you're so 'busy'.

Yes you're right. But will you really be okay with this?

Yes yes yes! How many times do I have to tell you that?

I'm just making sure.

Don't worry. I'll just go with Puck or something. Make up an excuse about how he dragged me there.

Ha ha, very funny.

I'm not joking. He's that type of person.

I don't know... I barely know him.

So.. that's settled right? I can go... right?

If you're fine, I'm fine too. Just.. don't do anything stupid.

Probably. Now that she had mentioned it.