February 14th, 2022

The drive to their condo wasn't terribly far from the hotel, but the short ride had been entirely blissful for Mercedes. She looked over to her boyfriend and simply smiled while taking in his features as she would often do these past 10 years. Since high school, Sam's voice had deepened a fraction and he had gained a bit more weight, but it was all muscle. Working out was always a regular thing for him, regardless of how busy he would sometimes get. When it came to facial appearance, he never donned anything past a weak five o'clock shadow but that was rare. He varied his hairstyle every so often as well; sometimes he cropped the back short and left the top long. Once, he went to the barber and came back with an army style buzz cut. A two word response from Mercedes kept him from ever duplicating this action: "Never again." Currently the length of his dirty blond crop all stopped at his earlobes. Mercedes liked this best because, depending on how he'd style it, it would take her back to their junior prom. However, given the formalities of the evening's occasion he had lightly gelled and combed it back and out of his face, giving him a more polished look to match his sheer black tux.

"I know I already said this," spoke Mercedes with a wide smile, "but you look really handsome tonight."

During his light drumming of the steering wheel, Sam smiled softly and returned the gazing whenever a red light or traffic would allow. In his eyes, Mercedes hadn't changed much either since high school. Physically, she had trimmed off some weight—enough that it was noticeable but not enough for her to lose her voluptuous curves. It hadn't been a conscious effort on her part, however in the years that she and Sam were together, she came to enjoy working out with him from time to time. Still, she had been very vocal to her boyfriend and the media about being a positive role model for full-figured girls and not wanting to turn into a, "size Twig" as she phrased it. Her confidence and comfort in her own skin was something that Sam had always loved about her though, and he had gotten a good laugh out of her new size term. Something else that hadn't changed about her was her love of being fashionable, as well as changing her own hairstyles. Some days she had bangs, and some days she had highlights; sometimes she would crimp or curl her weave and on rare occasions she would ditch a weave altogether and flaunt her large, natural spiraling curls. But no matter what look she donned, Sam had never seen her walk out of their condo looking anything less than her best.

Thinking about all of this made Sam's smile grow. "And you took my breath away tonight, Benz." He removed his right hand from the steering wheel and reached across the dividing panel to grab her hand.

At the sound of her nickname, Mercedes smile widened. She removed her left hand from the gold phonograph in her lap—which now had her name engraved on it—and slipped her dark fingers between his pale set. Both of them curled their digits over the other's knuckles. Simultaneously, Mercedes picked up her award and thrust it in the air while childishly shouting, "My first Grammy! Woooo!"

Sam grinned and chuckled at her. As if it were the most natural thing, Sam hiked his voice up an octave and imitated comic sidekick, Robin and said, "Holy music trophy, Batman!"

At that, Mercedes snorted, followed by hissing a snarky laugh. The snort made Sam laugh with and at her, but she'd carried on the guffawing longer than he had. After a full minute of laughing, the singer began to collect herself again and she and her beloved prattled on about the evening's highlights and performances.

"Are you okay?" Mercedes asked when their conversation died down.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, brows furrowed.

"Then why's your leg twitching so much?"

Sam looked down at his left leg while had been bobbing up and down incessantly. He stopped it immediately, "Oh, um…I dunno."

He saw her eyeing him but pretended not to notice while he sought a fast subject change.

Upon arriving at the front gate of their condo complex, Sam flashed a resident badge at the security guard sitting in the booth. The guard nodded and pressed a button that permitted the gates to open. Neither Sam nor Mercedes had been particularly fond of living in such a, secluded area, but with Mercedes' acquired stardom and his fame from recent successes, came a struggle for privacy.

Once inside their spacious condo, Sam flicked on a light switch so that could navigate the home properly. Right away, his hand went to the silk tie around his neck as he toed his shoes off.

"Sam I keep telling you you're gonna scuff the backs if you take them off like that," Mercedes chided while walking ahead of him to set her Grammy down.

He shrugged, "I'm not worried. I don't think anyone's looking that hard at my shoes anyhow."

"I am," challenged his girlfriend.

He smiled and muttered, "Says the modern day Imelda."

Mercedes scoffed defiantly, "I heard that. I do not have that many shoes."

Sam paused in the entry way hall, staring dubiously at the curvy woman. Without saying another word, he crossed the hall and seized her wrist without breaking stride. He heard Mercedes giggle and protest his actions, but it didn't stop him. Not until they were in their bedroom did he come to a halt and let her wrist go.

"Okay, okay you made your point!" she insisted, backing away from the closed accordion doors where he brought them. She sat on the bed to remove the strappy silver pumps she'd worn that night.

"Ohhh no," Sam argued with a smirk, "I don't think I have yet." With that, he pulled the knobs on the doors, causing them to fold back and reveal a large, walk-in closet. When he flicked that light on, there shown a variety of suits, dresses, tops and neckwear hanging on the racks that lined the walls. Below the racks however several well-stocked shelves were exposed, full of shoes of every kind: heels, sandals, boots, flats, tennis shoes, slippers and high tops-galore. Of them all, only two shelves housed Sam's shoes.

Mercedes stuck her tongue out with a now brazened gaze and stated, "And I take care of each and every one of them, so there."

The blond laughed while closing the closet door again, "Yeah, you do." He strut across the spongy carpet and grabbed his girlfriend in a sweeping embrace, triggering another trill of giggles from her.

"Boy you better put me down!"

Sam grinned and kissed the top of her head before letting her toes touch the ground again. "Come on—let's go get cleaned up and get to bed. It's Valentine's Day, remember?"

"I know," she sighed with a smile. "If it wasn't, I'm sure Kurt would stay out here longer. But I'm sure he wants to get back to Blaine and Lizzie."

The composer made an agreeing, "Mmm," that sounded like he agreed with her. As they stood in their bathroom undressing themselves, Sam paused for a moment, grinned and tickled his girl's bare side.

"Stop it," she demanded with her laughs. "What's wrong with you?"

He chuckled, loving her laugh, and ignored her question. "So you're an official Grammy winner. What now, Ms. Jones?"

"Well," A smiling Mercedes draped her gown across the sink counter and leaned in the shower to turn it on. "I think I wanna relax for a bit—from the music at least. Go visit our families and friends for a while and—"

Sam perked a brow at her, "You want to relax?"

He dodged a swat from his beloved while smiling innocently, "What? I'm just surprised. But at the same time I'm not, and I'm actually glad to hear you say that. I'm gonna have some free time for a while, so I wanted us to go out Kentucky."

While tucking her hair under a cap, Mercedes met anxious green-hued gaze. "Yeah, that sounds good. You remember Tina's baby shower is next week, right?"

"Yeah, Mike and I have tickets to the Warriors/Bulls game," Sam answered. He placed all of his clothes on top of Mercedes' gown and underwear but knocked over a ceramic cup where their toothbrushes stood.

"What was that?" Mercedes asked from under the fall of the water.

"Nothing!" Sam quickly replied as he righted the cup and then followed her into the shower.

The composer took in his girlfriend's gaze while they stood on the tile floor together, letting the hot water pour over their skin and relax their muscles. Without having to speak it, he could see the concern and love blended in her chocolate hues. When the water started trickling from his soaked hair, down his forehead and into his eyes, Sam bowed his head, holding Mercedes close, and nuzzled his nose in the groove of her neck. "I'm really proud of you tonight, Benz. I mean, I'm always proud of you, y'know? But I'm really proud of y—"

"Thank you, Babe," she said after pressing an index finger to his lips. "For always, always being there every step of the way. I love you. And…I think making a trip to Kentucky soon would be great."

He felt Mercedes' fingertips slip in between his forest of blond roots, helping to free the sophisticated `do he'd worn for the night. Her grip on his hair tightened when he started crooning Spanish into her ear.

"Te amo mi estrella querida…"

"Sam," she groaned.

"…Y es por ti que di a mi corazon."

"Tempting as this is," she breathed, "If you keep this up we're not gonna get any sleep tonight—I guarantee you."

He grinned against her smooth, dark skin and left a kiss there before raising his head. "No lo siento."

She giggled softly at him, "I know you're not. And I don't want you to be sorry."

They gazed adoringly at each other for a while longer, kissed, and then eventually got around to cleaning up. When they finished, Mercedes wandered out of the bathroom, holding her towel to her chest. Sam lingered in the bathroom a bit longer, ruffling his towel through his hair.

"You coming, Sam?" Mercedes called softly.

"Yeah," he answered, "I'll be there in a sec." He reached up to wipe the steam off of a portion of the mirror to gaze at his reflection. While inhaling a deep breath, he lowered his gaze thoughtfully. So much had happened in his life—sometimes he needed to just breathe and retire himself in gratitude. As he took in one more deep breath, his girlfriend called to him again.

"Babe, have you seen my nightcap? It's not on the bed. You didn't stick it in with your socks again did you?"

Sam's head snapped up, recalling the laundry he'd put away that morning. He had a habit of carelessly sticking small clothing articles in their top drawers. This time, he'd done it but definitely hadn't meant to. The next moment, he came sprinting out of the bathroom, lost his balance (and his towel) and tumbled down beside their dresser at Mercedes' feet.

Her hand paused on his sock drawer as she stared incredulously down at him. "The hell—what are you doing?"

Huffing a few short breaths he said, "I uh…I tripped. But no it's not in there. Did you check the nightstand on your side of the bed?"

Still giving him a questionable stare, Mercedes said, "Oookay. It wasn't that urgent Sam." She shook her head and turned to wander around to the other side of the bed.

Quickly, Sam scrambled to his feet and jerked his sock drawer open as quietly as possible. Sitting on top was Mercedes' silver nightcap. He plucked it out and closed the drawer. "Oh! Woops, never mind—here it is!"

Mercedes looked to him with an arched brow when he shuffled over to hand it to her. "Um…thanks."

He cast a nervous, crooked smile at her and then promptly returned to his dresser to grab some pajama pants to throw on. Meanwhile, Mercedes slipped on her nightcap and pulled a short silk nightgown.

As per usual, the couple climbed into bed together and cuddled into one another. Sam hitched a leg over Mercedes' hip and trailed his fingertips along the contours of her jaw. "Sleepy?" he asked.

Mercedes nodded and twisted her body into her love while her hands slid around his torso. "I'll be asleep in no time."

"That's good—I mean you should be tired after today."

Her eyes studied him, and noticed something off; something restless in his gaze. After stifling a yawn her forehead creased, "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah the fall wasn't that bad."

"No, I wasn't talking about the fall. I mean are you okay in general?"

For a moment Sam's brows furrowed, and in that moment he pretended not to know why she was asking. "Yeah I'm fine, why?"

The creases in her forehead deepened, "You've been acting funny since we left the hotel."

He quietly scoffed, "No I haven't."

This time she lowered her face into his bare chest and let herself yawn. "Yes you have," she mumbled back, shutting her eyes.

"I think you're just tired," he said—his voice dripping with a patronization. "Just go to sleep, estrella querida."

"You know," she mumbled against his skin, "if you weren't so comfy to snuggle into, I'd kick your butt right now."

Sam chuckled darkly, "I love you too."

He knew Mercedes didn't take long to fall asleep—even on her most excited nights. In about ten minutes' time her breaths fell into a slow, deep pace. A few minutes later, she was lightly snoring—just what he was waiting to hear. While keeping his eyes locked on his love, Sam carefully unhinged his long limb from Mercedes' hip, and then he carefully pried her arms from around him. She stirred for a moment, causing his heartbeat to pick up, but after she turned over and settled back down, He let out a silent breath of relief and rolled stealthily out of the bed.

Something else was waiting in the sock drawer for Mercedes, and he knew it was time for her to have it.

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