The Resolve

When Sam entered Pieces of Mercy, there were several customers inside, still. He didn't see Mercedes. Miss Fabray glared at him the moment he came through the door and she realized that it was him. He pulled his to do list out of his pocket and looked around until he saw a Hispanic woman with a half apron on and deduced that she was the other employee in the place. "Excuse me, Miss Santana?" he called. The Latina turned and looked at him. She had a headpiece on, but she wore a smile. "Hi. I'm the new guy, Sam…"

"Oh, you mean the Nazi tattoo stray that Mercedes gave a charity job to. How can I help you?"

He sighed and balled his fists, "I have been extremely nice to everyone, but everyone has been treating me…"

"Like you and a group of your friends beat a family to death," she finished the statement for him. "And just because you didn't quote unquote actually kill any of them, and even if you just quote unquote swung at the son, a few times… Likewise, even though you were sixteen at the time and are out on parole – you are in fact the person who did that, correct?" She laughed and asked, "Why should we treat you like anyone else?"

He took a deep breath, then asked, "Could you just point me towards the tool shed? Miss Fabray gave me a list." He noticed that she was staring at his lips, and wondered what that meant. Did she like them? He had compliments on them before… but he had also gotten teased about them.

Her eyes returned to the shop as she answered, "Go towards the back of the shop, like you're going into the backroom, but right before you get to the backroom, there's a trap door in the floor, that leads to the basement. The tool shed's down there, closer to the storage items, not by the delivery bay door that opens out into the street. If you walk up the ramp, or see the company van, you've gone too far. Try not to trip over your lips on the way down the stairs," she said, chipper, with just a hint of bitch.

"Santana," Mercedes said. Santana rolled her eyes and turned to get back to her job. Mercedes sighed, shook her head and said, "Sam, I'm sorry that everyone's doing this to you."

"I deserve it," he said. "She's right. All of them are…" Then he quickly said, "Except Tina! I'm very grateful to you to have you help me, Mercedes and I won't hurt you." He looked at his list and said, "I kinda need to know where some of these places are on my to do list."

"Absolutely. I'll give you the tour. The place is bigger than it looks. There's a basement, which is used for large items and deliveries, with a driveway that leads to and from the sliding door of it. This is the shop, and you already know the stock room, then the backroom, but then, there's the cash office. There is the second floor that has all of the high priced stuff, locked in glass cases or bolted down. I'll walk you around and show you."

"What's on the third floor?"

"That's where I live," she said with a smile.

Working in a turtleneck was difficult enough, as the weather was warm, but Sam just knew that Santana and Miss Fabray were purposefully trying to exhaust him, and Santana seemed to be trying to say things to get a response out of him. For the sixth time, Miss Fabray held out her hand for his notepad and scribbled something else on it. "I understand that you're still new, and all – but Miss Jones' last assistant, Rachel, had her assistant role down pact. She would've finished five such lists by now."

"Even loading nineteen boxes into the van in the basement?"

"She would have done that first, as it's what takes the longest, and she would've asked for help with anything too hard to lift," she retorted and slammed the notepad back into his hand.

"What happened to her?" he asked, trying to make out what the new tasks read. Probably got run off by these demands…

"Are you on break?" She asked him back, annoyed that he wasn't working.

"I hope that isn't sexual tension that I sense? Because I'll seriously throw up on everything in sight," Santana said, as she passed through both of them carrying a large box and headed for the stairs that wound in a spiral leading to the second floor. Fabray and Sam looked at each other. He forced a smile, but she fought the urge to snarl as she turned and went to greet more customers.

The shop closed for lunch. They shut the drapes and put out a sign to let the people know. Mercedes fed her dogs and sat on the ground, toying around with them. It was one of the cutest things that Sam had seen in a long time. There was something oddly magnificent about her. For one thing, he found her just stunning, but he thought maybe that was because he had been locked up for so long. He knew that she wasn't his type. Even the few black women that he found attractive previously looked nothing like her. They were lighter in skin tone and leaner in form. If there were any darker ones, they were like white women dipped in chocolate… And there had not been many, either way.

He glanced at Miss Fabray, as she made a deposit bag for the bank – which she would be visiting on her lunch break. She was his type. She reminded him of home, of daydreams, fantasies and memories. She looked up to see him looking at her and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Mercedes, are you riding with me to the bank?" She asked.

"When have I ever ridden with you to the bank?" Mercedes asked, rolling around with Clutserfrak and KissyKissyBangBang. She began singing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, but replacing the "chitty" with "kissy." Sam chuckled. She had a nice voice, even though she was simply joking around with her pets.

Fabray smiled softly at her employer and friend. Then looked at Sam and said, "Come with me." When they stepped out of the building, she locked the door behind them and told him, "You need to find something to eat, or something to do while the shop is closed. Something that doesn't involve me leaving her here alone with you," she said.

"You don't want me alone with her, but I can be alone with you?" He asked.

Miss Fabray laughed in his face and said, "I am not taking you with me, Mr. Evans. I just wanted to get you out of the building. Enjoy your lunch!" She headed for her car and drove off without even looking at him, again. Sam sat down in the front of the building and simply watched the world around him. He did not know when he fell to sleep, leaning against the building.

Sam awoke with a start at the sound of laughing children and saw that a crowd of them were standing around him. He glanced around and saw that the shop was open again. Did that woman really go back inside, open up the building, and leave him sleeping in the front? He went inside and saw Miss Fabray and Santana at the counter, just hanging out. The shop wasn't at all busy anymore and Mercedes was nowhere to be seen. "Oh, Trouty Mouth! Glad that you could finally join us," Santana said, then began to add to his to do list. As he left them, he noted that neither of them were doing a damned thing.

By the time the doors were locked at 7:00 pm, he was bone tired. He found Santana and Miss Fabray standing at the locked door and he asked, "Miss Fabray, is there anything else that you need me to do?"

"You can leave," Santana said under her breath.

"We have nothing further for you tonight, Mr. Evans," Miss Fabray answered, without even looking at him. "Besides, you have an appointment tomorrow."

"An appointment?" He asked.

"Yes," she said, then returned to whatever she was saying to Santana.

After a moment, Santana pointed out, "I don't think he's going anywhere." Now, both of the women finally looked at him. Santana explained, "You were able to meet the girls today. Tomorrow, you'll have to meet the guys. Simple as that. Besides, it's the assistant's job to take Boss Lady on her charity donations and community service rides. Now, please, be gone with you before we get sucked into the vortex that is your mouth as you inhale." She rolled her neck when she turned from him and she and the blond woman resumed their conversation.

Fabray was saying, "So then Beth looks right at me with the most serious look and says, 'Daddy says that a boy even so much as looking at me puts me at risk to catch cooties!' and I look at him, he just shrugs, like it's the most natural advice in the world…" The two women laughed.

Santana commented, "What really trips me out is when we get to see Beth and Brittany in action. I swear, she'll make the best mother, someday…" By that time, Sam was inside of the backroom. There was a fresh set of charity clothes setting on the small bed, neatly. He picked up the bag from earlier, with his soap and toothpaste, toothbrush, etc and made his way into the compact shower room with mirror.

Quinn waited at the door for her daughter and Puck, her daughter's father. The three of them would be staying the night at Mercedes, just for safety purposes. Puck insisted on staying there, just in case and Mercedes didn't feel comfortable with him being there without Quinn, so… family sleepover at Cedes' place. As she waited, she found herself heading towards the backroom – unsure of why or what she expected to see. She peeked into the back room and saw Sam on his knees on the side of the bed, shirtless.

She looked at the legion of tattoos that covered him. Some were innocent and benign – like a crow and a dove, then there were a couple of tributes - some roses that read "Mary" and a blade that read "Dwight." But, then there were other ones that were far more offensive and greater in number. Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him, and as though he felt her eyes on him, he looked up at her. His eyes looked red, and his face began to match as he reached for his shirt and asked, "Did you need me to do something?"

"No," she said and put her head down, a bit embarrassed that he caught her invading on what was clearly a private time for him. "I was just going to see if you needed anything else before I shut everything down for the night.

"No, Ma'am." He answered as he flopped down onto the bed and picked up his Bible to turn to the book of Acts. "Good night," he told her and didn't look her way again. A buzzer sounded and Quinn turned to go answer it. Sam heard voices, but he wouldn't look in that direction again. He had been exposed enough for one night.

Those green eyes opened to the feeling of someone watching him and started when he saw the German shepherd, staring right in his face. What the hell was with these dogs? Clusterfrak watched him intently and Sam wondered if he had been there the entire night? What time was it? He heard shuffling around and got up to investigate. He saw Miss Fabray and a little girl who was five or six, maybe seven. Fabray had on a light blue sweatsuit and her little girl was asleep in her arms. But, a male with dark brown hair took the child off of her hands and handed her a pair of keys. Sam presumed that was her family, but he hadn't known that they had even been there. He had actually slept well the previous night. Perhaps it was all the work that Fabray and Santana kept giving him. Perhaps it was a bed that was not inside of prison walls.

He walked out of the room and watched the man put his daughter into the car, talk to Fabray for a bit, then take the keys back and left. They didn't hug or kiss… Sam noted. That's interesting. She began to come back to the building and he rushed out of sight, even though he was fully dressed. Her catching him uncovered the previous night made sure of that. She came back inside and turned on some music. Sam heard her singing softly and smiled to himself as he attempted to peek at her, again.

A phone rang, and Sam knew it wasn't the shop phone, because he'd heard it several times the previous day. "Quinn speaking," she answered. So, she did have a first name… Quinn. "I think that he's still asleep, but you could bring it by and just leave it in the stock room. Mercedes and I have to go on our morning jog in a little while, so… are you headed this way right now?" She laughed and said, "I wasn't as mean as I thought I would be to him. But, you know that Santana redefined the word bitch all day long. I was shocked to hear that even Tina was angry with him. He didn't make any attempts to come up to the apartment, but I thought that we could still do some rotations each night, just to be sure. Of course, Puck'll try to be here every night, if she would let him. Okay, see you in a tad."

Now, she picked up the shop phone and dialed a number, "Mercedes, how close to ready are you? Kurt's going to stop by to bring Mr. Evans his clothes order, and he wants us to have fruit and bagels with him and Blaine before we go jogging…" Sam came out of the room and she started a bit. "Good morning, Mr. Evans."

"Good morning," he said, with a lazy, crooked smile that made her stomach flutter and turn, at the same time. She frowned and turned her back to him. If her eyes were wondering over his form, she didn't want him seeing that. She felt gross for even thinking that if he didn't have all those tattoos…

Quinn was listening to something that Mercedes was saying, she sighed and hung up. "Do you need some cash for breakfast? Miss Jones wants to make sure that you're covered until you start getting your official checks."

"No. I should be fine," he said. "I had a little bit of change with me when I was released." He sat at the bar, and asked, "Why is there a bar inside of a gift shop?"

"There used to be a coffee bar inside of the shop. We got rid of the coffee bar, but kept the set up" she said with a shrug.

"Why did you get rid of…"

"You know, just because I saw you praying last night doesn't mean that I think much differently about you. And the fact that this is the most that you've tried to make conversation with anyone in Mercy's circle says things to me, Mr. Evans. My blonde hair and blue eyes does not give us some kind of a connection." She frowned and placed the bowl of dog food that she had been preparing on the floor next to Cluster's dog bed. The dog rushed to his morning meal and Quinn made her way back to the elevator. It was locked and only she and Mercedes had a key to it. It was the only way to get to Mercedes apartment. For some reason, the previous day, Quinn Fabray made it her business to be sure that he understood that.

Kurt brought the clothes in plastic bags, for Sam. He and his gay lover, Blaine carried them inside and left them in the stockroom. Then, Quinn and Mercedes came out of the elevator and the four cheerily laughed and talked about things that Sam knew nothing about, nor really cared to. He stared at Mercedes, unintentionally. She had on a purple and black tank top with silver stars, black yoga pants and purple and silver sneakers. She was dressed up like she was going to model her workout outfit for a magazine. He supposed that this struck him as odd because she was the only person in the room who could not see, yet, she was the only one who looked like she was trying to look impressive.

"Are you coming with us, Sam?" he heard her ask.

"I'm sorry?" Kurt asked, with widened eyes, unable to hide his horror at the thought of it.

Quinn shook her head at Sam and Kurt folded his arms, staring at him. Blaine simply waited, patiently for Sam's answer.

"I can't," Sam said, amicably to his host. "I haven't had the chance to start my morning routine yet." He looked at the others, to see if that was a good enough excuse.

"Oh, you can do it afterwards. I can't, in good conscious leave you locked up inside of the shop and I can't leave keys to a stranger," Mercedes said, with one hand on Kissy's handle and the other lazily on her wide hip.

Sam nodded, "Right." He grabbed his duffel bag and left the building with them. When Quinn locked up the door and the others began to head for the company van, Sam went walking in the other direction.

"And how are you going to know when we make it back to the shop, Mr. Evans?" Quinn asked. He took a deep breath and turned to join them. There was no escaping it, but perhaps he could sit separated from the group.

No such luck. And somehow, he ended up sitting in between Mercedes and Blaine, but the gays seemed alright, enough. He wasn't familiar with any gays like them. He knew the fish on the inside, and they disgusted him. Then, there were those who didn't think they were gay, but they did have butt sex with men, so Sam didn't know why that didn't make them gay. Gay was the right word, right? He shook his head and shrugged, which made everyone but Mercedes look at him. "Oh, I was just thinking about something."

"When we get back to the shop, you'll have to walk Clusterfrak," Mercedes said, suddenly, as she grabbed his hand. "When you said you were thinking about something, I remembered that I was thinking about that before we left, but I didn't say it, so I forgot. So, now I'm saying, so that if I forget again, it still gets done."

Sam stared at his hand in her smaller one, contrasting colors and textures that stirred his imagination. He gently withdrew his hand and tried not to turn red. He needed to find a woman to have a release night with, and soon. He knew that the sooner he got the seven year itch scratched, he would not have any problems being around Mercedes or Quinn or a dozen other women that he found himself looking at entirely too hard since he became a free man. "Yes, Miss Jones ," he said.

Blaine chuckled. It was his first time hearing Sam's voice, and he found it comical that Cedes was 'Miss Jones.' "Miss Jones?" He repeated.

"Sam, you don't have to call me that. Our shop, our circle is like a little family," she told him. He knew that he was not now and would never be a part of that.

After breakfast, they went back to the shop. Quinn and Mercedes went for their jog and Sam was given Clusterfrak to take for a walk, and to relieve himself. Blaine and Kurt left in their vehicle. "You know, Cluster – even though it sometimes feels like you're trying to figure me out, you're the only one who hasn't judged me. God bless Mercedes, I know that she's trying to help, but she's a little bit overbearing with it, isn't she? I can't stand her pitying me so much as to have to try to save me. I do need the help and I could use the money, but… I don't need any charity, Clusterfrak. I intend to pay her back every single penny she spends on me. I'm even keeping the receipts to ensure that I do this." He petted the dog and watched Mercedes and Quinn jogging the track on the park.