May 29, 2022(Saturday night/Sunday morning)

Sam left the club—heavy upset carved on his face as he made a focused effort to get back to the hotel. Mike stumbled after him and sluggishly clapped a hand to his shoulder to slow him down, but Sam shrugged it off.

"Hey!...Hey, come on S-sam," slurred the pro dancer. "Calm down, dude."

"No!" snapped the blond. "It's bullshit!"

Mike flinched away, "Whoa. You're really…really, really pissed about this, huh?"

"What do you think?" Sam angrily retorted. "She thinks I cheated on her! I don't even know that chick!"

"Dude…dude…dude, dude,dude—" Mike giggled.

"What?"

"She's gonna come around. Jussst let her calm down. She saw you kiss another girl and—"

"I DIDN'T KISS HER!" Sam yelled, his arms flailing to emphasize his persistence. A few people walking along the strip turned their heads in his and Mike's direction.

Mike held his hands up in surrender while his legs danced around each other, "I know, I know…jusss…just relax. That's all I'm saying… Relax, and let her relax."

Having no interest in saying anything else, Sam glared harshly at the ground and continued his trek in silence. He rolled his eyes a few times at his happily drunk best friend, but eventually the two reached the Caesars Palace lobby. Mike tried cheering him up a few times—either through corny jokes or his own drunken antics—but Sam remained upset and un-amused.

Within an hour of getting back to the suite, Mike had passed out on the couch while Sam took a long, hot shower. The warm water helped clear his head and calm him down. As he dried off and slipped on some pajamas, he heard the suite door open and the common room fill with his friends' loud, jolly voices. Sam sighed and tried to quietly sneak to bed without being detected but he was unsuccessful.

"Sammy Boy! Hold up!" called his friend Jay. His olive-skinned face was absolutely euphoric as he appeared at the opposite end of the hallway.

"Yeah, we saw that showdown with you and Mercy and that chick," added Finn.

Sam's stealthy strides faltered long enough for him to say, "Good night." The calm from the hot shower was quickly wearing off.

"Whoa, whoa hold on man!" Jay approached him in quick, sloppy strides; he hooked Sam around the neck, breathing beer and Hennessy in Sam's face as he brought him out of the hallway to join the rest of the guys again. Artie looked like he was on the verge of passing out in his chair, and Blaine was dancing to music that could only be heard in his head. Finn appeared to be the only partially sober one.

Sam was brought down into a leather chair by Jay's dead weight; the fellow composer promptly plopped to the carpet with a thud but didn't seem to care. "So tell us what the hell happened?" he asked.

It wasn't something Sam wanted to rehash—as made evident on his face—but he knew his friend wasn't gonna let up until he knew. As briefly as possible, he retold the events that occurred after he and Mike went to get them all more shots. By the time he'd finished, Blaine wandered to the bathroom to shower, Artie was snoring; Jay was sprawled out on the floor with his hands buried in his thick, jet black hair. Being nearly as tall as Finn, he'd taken up a lot of floor space. And Finn himself was sitting in front of Mike's feet with his eyebrows near his hairline.

"Damn, dude," Finn whispered.

"Yeah. I know," Sam curtly replied.

"I don't get it dude," mumbled Jay as he stretched his arms out and yawned, "Why are your balls in a twist over it?"

Sam lowered his head into his hand with a solid 'slap!'. He dragged his hand down his face and muttered between his fingers, "Did you hear anything I said?"

"Yeah, yeah some girl kissed you. Mercedes saw and flipped. You denied it and called her dumb. She stormed out."

"I didn't call her dumb," argued Sam.

Finn's brows relaxed as he chimed in, "No but you told her she was being stupid. That's kinda the same thing."

The blond cast a stone-faced gaze at the tall brunette.

"Listen, you and I have known Mercedes for a long time," continued Finn. "She's a diva. She has her moments of drama. And I bet it wasn't even that bad; trust me I know bad drama. But just let her cool off and then go to her room and talk to her tomorrow."

Jay sat up, "Wait you know where they're staying at?"

The blond leaned back in his chair while sighing, "Yeah, Rachel said they're at the Luxor."

"What are you waiting for then, man? Go talk to your girl!"

"Nooo, no, no, no," Finn repeatedly shook his head. "Don't do that."

Jay's brows came together, "Why not?"

"Trust me, dude. If he goes tonight, they'll just end up fighting more." The former quarterback then looked back to his friend, "You wanted my advice tonight, right? Let her sleep it off—get both your heads clear, then talk to her tomorrow."

Sam shook his head in a defeatist manner, rose from the chair and headed back down the hallway to his room.

Rachel raised brows when she decided to go to the Luxor's LAX with Santana and Brittany, but Mercedes was secretly grateful; the fewer people to repeatedly ask if she was okay, the better. While the three girls peeled off from the group, Kurt and the remaining two girls followed Mercedes to the elevator and up to their suite. They took turns showering and by the time they all finished, the singer had gone to bed.

Kurt was the last to shower, and when he emerged from the bathroom in his candy-striped pajamas, he made a direct trip to his best friend's room. After a couple of knocks on the door, he heard Mercedes tell him to go away.

He opened the door anyway and marched right to the room's only bed. Mercedes was hidden by the blankets, save her night-capped head. "Well I did the polite thing by knocking but as you can see, I was coming in regardless. Plus, you seem to have forgotten that we share this bed and I don't sleep on the floor." As he sat down, a still visibly irate Mercedes sat up revealing a black silk pajama top with lipstick tubes printed all over it. He saw her scowl at him, but soon looked to the door where nightgown-clad Quinn was now standing. Kurt brought his gaze back to the singer while insisting, "Mercedes, talk to us."

"You shouldn't go to bed angry," Quinn softly added, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

Mercedes looked to her friends, "How can I not go to bed mad? You guys were there. You saw what I saw."

"You're right, we did," agreed Quinn. "But what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. The wedding's in two weeks."

A suddenly wide-eyed Kurt asked, "Ohh god, please don't tell me you're going to call it off."

"No," Mercedes said, quickly shushing and relieving Kurt. "I'm not about to throw everything we have over…that. And I know he was drunk and she was stupid as hell. But that doesn't make me forget what I saw."

Quinn shifted on the bed. "I don't think anyone's expecting you to forget what you saw, Mercedes. But think about what you heard. Your drunk fiancé was still sober enough to be honest with you and tell you the truth beyond what you saw."

"All he said was that he didn't kiss her and that I was stupid."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Mercedes that wasn't all he said to you. He told you why he didn't push her away. And yeah he was drunk but he didn't look like he was enjoying himself."

"And she was grabbing him. Sam wasn't touching her."

Mercedes' chin dipped while her brows and lips came together. "Whose side are you guys on?"

"Yours," answered Quinn.

"And Sam's," Kurt added shortly after.

The dark-skinned diva's eyes narrowed slightly, feeling a bit betrayed before Kurt explained, "Don't put Quinn and I on sides, Mercedes. You know we love and care about you and Sam. That's why we're trying to shine some perspective other than your one-tracked rage."

After a deep breath, Mercedes admitted, "I just…" she sighed, "I just wanted him to fight for me."

"Fight for what?" an exasperated Kurt asked, causing both girls to jump. "Mercedes that was probably the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say. Sam loves you! It wasn't like he just up and walked away from your relationship or something. And you know Sam doesn't think you're stupid. Neither do I, but if you bit Sam's head off because you wanted him to "fight for you", then I do think you're being really absurd."

Mercedes was rendered speechless. Every time she thought she was used to Kurt's blunt honesty and tough love, he'd always top himself. It was usually hard for her to hear, but more often than not, he was right. As she brooded over the brunette's words, Quinn's soft voice rasped.

"You're flying to Lima for the week, right?"

"Yeah."

"You need to talk this out with Sam before you go, and before the wedding, Mercedes. I know it's not the same thing, but when Finn and I started to reconnect, we agreed to be completely honest with each other, no matter how much it might hurt or upset the other person."

"Sam and I don't have an honesty issue, Quinn."

"My point is," she sharpened while still keeping her tone low. "You sound like you're looking for this Shakespearean public display of affection from Sam. The drama of seeing him push that girl away or more, would have been more gratifying for you. But it isn't what happen and now here you are." She dropped a hand in Mercedes' direction to emphasize her point.

Mercedes cheeks darkened. The double-whammy from Kurt and Quinn made her lower her gaze; she couldn't remember the last time she felt so small. It wasn't until Quinn rose from the bed that she looked up again.

"I'm going to bed before Santana and the others come back. Otherwise, I'll never get to sleep, but Mercedes…I really hope you and Sam talk this out soon. You two have 10 years of a good thing behind you. That's rare these days, and it would be really sad to see it end—especially over something like this."

Kurt and Mercedes watched her go, and as soon the bedroom door closed, Kurt slipped beneath the covers, looked to Mercedes and said, "Translation? It's a petty fight. And the moral of our story is: don't go into silent treatment mode, and no more dropping in on his boys' nights."

May 29, 2022

On Sunday, Mercedes woke up for about the fourth time. This time however, she noticed that the bed was half-empty. Where Kurt should have been, there was a note instead. Mercedes rubbed her eyes and picked up the note to read: Went to brunch with Tina, Q, and Rachel. S & B are still sleep. Be sure to answer the door. He finished it with a heart and his "hKa" signature that matched the logo used for his business.

His last sentence had Mercedes feeling confused. As she stared at the sentence trying to decipher what he was talking about, the suite doorbell rang. "What is this—The Matrix?" she muttered quizzically to herself. Unnerved by the timing, Mercedes got out of the bed, wandered through the suite and opened the door as Kurt instructed.

Standing on the other side was a casually-dressed Sam. Mercedes looked up and down at his grey sweats, white v-neck and open grey hoodie. The sleeves of said jacket had been cut off by Sam shortly after he purchased it, and tended to wear it often. Mercedes fondly remembered questioning his reason for removing the sleeves. When he told her that he wanted a sleeveless hood with a zipper, she informed him that there were zip-up hoodies that were intentionally made that way. Earlier that month, she purchased two sleeveless zip-up hoodies for him as one of his birthday presents—a white one and a blue one, both hosting the Navy's logo on the back. He never snipped the sleeves off of another jacket again.

She wasn't fully aware of the faint smirk she was now wearing as she said, "Hi," to her fiancé.

"Hi," was his response. Neither of them seeming interested in speaking beyond that.

Mercedes let him in and the two walked wordlessly to the room she and Kurt shared. Sam slipped his hands inside his hoodie pockets. His eyes were restless, as though the words he was looking to say were floating around the carpet. Mercedes sat down on at the foot of the bed, staring up at him.

"Sam, I—"

"Mercedes—"

Both stopped once they realized they were talking over each other. Mercedes momentarily bit her lip and Sam averted his gaze from her again.

"I'm sorry."

Sam's eyes snapped back to her as if he hadn't heard her correctly. To say those words coming from her were unexpected, would have been a huge understatement. There weren't many times where Mercedes apologized for anything she said or did. Most of the time, it was because she didn't have a need to apologize for the things she said or did.

Mercedes' voice was low and uneven but she went on once she held his gaze with hers. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was so mad last night when I saw that girl on you. Mostly I was mad because I wanted you to respond to her a certain way—even though it wasn't your fault. But…I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you."

"Why were you even there?" Sam asked while shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

She shook her head, throwing her moistening irises heavenward, "I don't know. We were just gonna stop by, say 'Hi' and then go. Believe me, I'm sorry I did that too."

"You know…you do realize you just insisted I believe your apology, when last night I was practically begging you to believe that I didn't kiss her."

With a trembling sigh she said, "No…I didn't realize that. I do now, but—"

"But," Sam interrupted, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He sounded slightly irritated as he asked, "I shouldn't get mad at the double standard, walk back out of here and consider taking my annoyance on the plane with me?" He opened his arms and stepped towards her while asking, "I should accept your apology right now and forgive you here?"

Mercedes flushed while her eyes filled with fresh tears. She felt small again, and couldn't take her eyes off of Sam's stony face as her lips tried to form a reply.

"I do, Mercedes."

It was her turn to look at him as if she hadn't heard him correctly. But Sam's words were even-toned and as clear as they were calm.

He shrugged and then repeated, "I do accept your apology. Right now. And I forgive you."

"I overreacted," she whispered, finally finding her voice.

"Yeah. We do that from time to time." He extended a hand to her; rather than taking it, Mercedes slid off of the bed and wrapped her arms around his torso. Sam closed his arms around her shoulders while evenly saying, "But you and I can't turn into people who say they love each other but walk away angry, or doubt each other's words because that's not us. That's never been us, Mercedes. We believe in each other and we're honest with one another.

"I know..." It wasn't often that Sam made her feel like this. Usually when she felt childlike around him, it was because of his playfulness. But she looked up, took a deep breath and gained control of her voice. "Sam I love you, and I trust you. And I really am sorry."

For the first time since he showed up at the hotel, Sam smiled at her. It wasn't particularly large but it was enough to say to Mercedes, "I know you are."

After rising up on her toes, Mercedes moved her arms up around his neck to hug him in her favorite way. Sam held her a little tighter as she murmured, "Thank you for forgiving me. And loving me."

Sam kissed her cheek, "I'll always love you, Benz."

PLEASE leave reviews! Have Quinn, Kurt, Mike and Finn given their longtime friends solid marital/relationship advice? Were you satisfied with Sam and Mercedes' resolution? Did you think it was accurate for Mercedes to have apologized to Sam? Why do you suppose Mercedes is flying to home to Lima? Answers to that last question are coming in the next chapter: Attitude Adjustment. Thanks for reading!