DISCLAIMER: On first chapter.

Sorry about the long wait! This is the longest chapter I've ever written! Happy reading! :D


May 26, 2011 (Friday)

Burt's Auto Shop

Lima, Ohio

7:07AM

Sam had been sitting in the cab of his truck long before Burt's Auto Shop opened for the day. He'd spent a lot of time last night mulling over the idea of working there and potentially being able to fix cars—something he was actually good at.

Of course he had some concerns. The number one issue was that he'd almost beat the shit out of Burt's two sons not even twenty four hours ago. So, yeah—he was a bit iffy on the whole idea.

Drumming his fingers on the cracking leather of the steering wheel, Sam glanced at the shop. The store front was solid glass windows and he could see employees milling around between metal ramps and racks full of car maintenance products.

The glare of the sun was too sharp for him to distinguish facial features from where he was, but he knew Mr. Hummel was inside. Sam had seen the man drive up earlier this morning. Now, it was just a matter of actually getting out of his truck and asking for an application.

He sat in the cab of his truck, biting his lip anxiously and debating with himself. It would be a good decision if he applied to work at the auto shop. He knew cars and he wasn't sure how much more of that pungent pizza scent he would be able to handle.

Sam was sure that Burt would pay better too, but would the man be willing to hear him out after the fight that had broken out yesterday? It wasn't his fault that Kurt had been a jackass to Mercedes, but maybe he shouldn't have lost his cool—what the hell was he saying? Kurt would've deserved every punch Sam threw for making Cede cry.

She refused to tell him what had set her off, but he knew it was bad—she didn't shed tears for nothing. Shaking the thought of Kurt away before he made himself angry again, Sam sucked in a breath and unbuckled his seatbelt.

He was not a coward and he wasn't going to hide behind his fear of rejection because of someone else's stupid mistake. Sam opened the truck door and slid out of the truck. He readjusted his hoody over his t-shirt and stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.

Slamming the door closed, he checked his hair in the reflection of the truck window and nodded to himself before walking towards the doors of the auto shop. The bell above the door jingled as he opened it and Sam blushed immediately.

Why? He didn't even know, but there was something disconcerting about the pairs of eyes that swung towards him as he stepped inside. Keeping his wits about him, Sam walked up to the counter in the front of the room and glanced around the interior of the store.

From what he could see, Mr. Hummel had top of the line machinery in his store. The air smelled of oil and an unnatural clean scent that came from car products. The sight of a man sliding underneath the hood of a car was comforting for Sam's frazzled nerves.

Mr. Hummel's shop felt almost familiar and he remembered summer days when he and his dad tinkered around with an old vehicle in their garage in Tennessee. His shoulders relaxed as he stared around—looking at the racks of antifreeze, coolant, oils, and tools; Mr. Hummel definitely had some quality stuff in his shop.

Sam was startled out of his observations by a tall man setting down his wrench on the marble countertop in front of him. He jumped slightly and blushed when he spotted the amusement in the man's brown eyes.

"How can I help ya, kid?" he asked, a dirty rag swept between the man's oil covered fingers as he tried to clean off his hands. Sam looked him over. He wore a grayish-blue short-sleeved button up shirt over a stained white t-shirt. The bordered name tag on his right pectoral told Sam that his name was Anthony.

"Uh," Sam stuttered, "I was wondering if Mr. Hummel was in?"

Anthony's eyebrow ticked higher in a reflection of his surprise, but he didn't say anything. "Yeah," he told Sam, "Follow me. I'll take you to him."

The man motioned over his shoulder with his head and started walking away. Sam hurried after him. He glanced around at everything as they moved past cars up on the lifts. Everyone was hard at work and the sounds of people chatting set Sam at ease as Anthony led him to a glass door.

The tall man opened the door and stepped inside the hallway, before walking a few feet to an open doorway. Anthony leaned his shoulder onto the door frame and stuck his head inside the office.

Sam could make out the corner of a large wooden desk and a window around Anthony's frame. The name plate next to the door told him that this was Mr. Hummel's office and Sam's stomach tightened.

"Hey boss," Anthony said, "You've got a visitor."

"Tony, you know you don't have to walk Kurt back here every time he comes by—"

"It's not Kurt or Finn, boss."

"Is it Blaine?" Mr. Hummel asked—Sam could hear the curiosity in his voice and he was tempted to turn around and leave, but he wasn't about to walk away now. Mr. Hummel knew someone was here. It would be rude to backtrack now that he'd come this far. What was the worse he could say? No?

"Nope," Anthony replied, "Some blond kid."

"Send him in," Mr. Hummel responded and Sam watched Anthony nod, before stepping out of the doorway. Sam met the taller man's eyes for a moment, before he took a breath and stepped into the office.

The moment Mr. Hummel saw him, Sam watched the man's eyebrows fly to his hairline in surprise and a slight frown appeared on his face. That look did not instill hope.

"I've got it from here, Tony, thanks," Mr. Hummel told his employee and Anthony nodded before stepping out of the room. Sam watched the other guy leave from the corner of his eye, but was distracted by Mr. Hummel leaning back in his leather chair and resting his entwined hands on his desk.

"Have a seat, Sam," he said and Sam nodded.

He plopped down in the chair in front of the man's desk. "How can I help you?" Burt asked and Sam met his eyes.

"I'm here to ask for a job application," he blurted—there was no use in beating around the bush. Mr. Hummel looked even more surprised at the revelation than Sam had been hoping for. Burt was silent for a moment, a contemplative look in his eyes as he stared at Sam.

He squirmed in his seat under the intense look. Mr. Hummel wasn't a big man, but he was definitely intimidating. Why was he constantly encountering guys who could squash him like a bug? Mr. Jones was even more intimidating than Mr. Hummel, but the man was a giant teddy bear when it came to his daughters.

He needed to stop thinking about David when Mr. Hummel looked like he was going to propel Sam forcefully out of his office. Sam was preparing himself to be turned down flat when Mr. Hummel spoke. "You have the nerve to come into my shop and ask for a job after you got into a fight with both of my boys?"

Sam winced—he knew that was going to come up, but when phrased that way it sounded much worse. Mr. Hummel had every reason to be suspicious and upset—he had launched himself into a brawl with Finn and Blaine and he'd have gladly socked Kurt in the eye; he still would.

"Yes sir," Sam answered; there was no reason for him to attempt to lie to the man. His feelings were his feelings and he wasn't going to stop protecting Mercedes because of where he was.

The serious look on Mr. Hummel's face made Sam uncomfortable.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send you on your way," Burt stated, "I don't respond well to threats against my sons and I definitely don't respond well when I watch a nice kid instantly resort to violence."

"I'm not a violent person!" Sam protested, "He made Mercedes cry, and that's unacceptable to me."

"Damn straight, it's unacceptable," Mr. Hummel agreed. "I don't approve of the argument between Kurt and Mercedes—he said some awful things to her and I've already chewed him out for being callous and rude, but I want to know why you think you have the right to show up and throw yourself into a fight that you know nothing about? Mercedes has been like a daughter to me for the past two years, and I sure as hell don't plan on letting anyone hurt her—including you and my kids."

"She's my girlfriend," Sam admitted and a flash of surprise moved across Mr. Hummel's eyes. "I will fight to protect my girlfriend. I was raised to defend those I love."

"And that's perfectly understandable," Mr. Hummel replied, "but violence is not always the answer. You can protect someone all you want, but you can't throw yourself into a physical fight every time they're hurt. If I did that, I'd be dead by now, because I'd have beaten every single one of those presumptuous assholes who insulted my son."

Sam felt more chastised than ever and he looked away from Burt; crossing his arms over his chest. He was grateful that his father had been in bed before he came home last night; otherwise Sam would've gotten the worst tongue-lashing of his life.

Lynn probably would've taken him over her knee.

That woman was small as hell, but she made him feel about two inches tall when she told him off. He hated disappointing her and he hated disappointing his dad even more. It wasn't like he could hide the black eye he was sporting or the swollen lip. They weren't as bad as he'd thought—Mercedes had made him ice everything while they were at Mike's house, but it was still obvious that his face had been hit with fists.

He knew he'd catch hell when he went home today and his dad and Lynn saw him.

"Mercedes has been hurt enough by people," Sam said after a few seconds of silence. "I've seen how much it hurts her to have people she calls friends walk in and out of her life as though she doesn't even matter. She's just gotten her confidence back and I'm not going to sit back and allow someone she loves to walk all over her heart again."

Sam met Burt's eyes—his jaw set. "I don't know what Kurt said to her, but I know it hurt her badly. She shouldn't have to run to him to fix the problems that he caused, and if there was a repeat of yesterday—I'd be a little bit faster at approaching him, because I'd love to punch him in the face for doing this to her."

"Let me ask you this—do you have a problem with my son being gay?" Burt asked suddenly, and Sam's brow furrowed at the random question.

"With all due respect sir, why would I care if Kurt's gay?" Sam responded. "I don't give a crap about his preferences. You like who you like—it doesn't affect me. I don't care if he's gay, straight, bi, or asexual—he hurt Mercedes for no good reason and I won't let that fly."

"Sam," Burt said, "I get it. I really do. You care a lot about Mercy and she's an amazing, intelligent and beautiful young lady, but I've known her for years and I don't think she'd approve of you sucker-punching everyone in the world who pissed her off."

Sam couldn't quite hide his wince and Burt snorted. "She already told you off good, didn't she?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair and shot a half smile at Mr. Hummel. He could still hear her telling him off for butting in on her personal battles, but then he started thinking about the kiss she gave him after she told him off and Sam figured that it would be best to not go down that road right now.

"Yeah," he replied, "She didn't even wait until we left your property before she laid into me about it. I have a feeling that my dad is going to be a lot worse when he sees me, though. Lynn might beat me and then coddle me to death."

Mr. Hummel laughed and Sam shrugged. "You're living with Lynn? Mercedes' pseudo-aunt?"

"Yes sir," Sam replied, "She and my dad are close friends and she let us move in with her when we got kicked out of the motel room."

"She's one hell of a woman," Burt responded in amusement, "Terrifying as all get out if you piss her off. I've seen her tear the pride right off a man when he thought he could put his hands anywhere he wanted on her body. I thought that my testicles were going to crawl back into my body and I was all the way across the store when she told him off. I'm pretty sure he left the store as a woman when she was done with him."

Sam laughed—Lynn was something else and he hadn't known her for long, but he knew that her bad side was not a place that he wanted to be. Once they calmed down from their laughter, Burt turned his chair to the side and stood up.

"Forget the application, kid," Mr. Hummel said as he made his way around the desk. Sam stared up at him, crestfallen. Burt laughed and dropped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Come with me."

Sam followed him dejectedly out of the office and down the hallway. When they stepped out into the main area of the store, Mr. Hummel handed Sam a wrench. Sam blinked in confusion.

"Listen kid," Burt stated, "You're a nice guy, but you've got to get those protective instincts of yours under control. I understand just as much as the next person about how much you want to defend the people you care about, but you have to learn how to pick your battles. Kurt was wrong for what he said and I've made sure that he knows it, but the only two people who can fix that relationship are those two."

Sam nodded—his fingers tightening around the wrench.

"Now, go to that car over there," Burt said, pointing towards a red Toyota up on jacks already. "It has a flat tire and needs an oil change. Do those two things right, and you're hired."

Sam's jaw dropped, but he shook of his shock quickly when Burt's eyes danced in amusement. He nodded and Burt clapped him on the shoulder, before walking away.

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel!" he called after the man.

"It's Burt, Sam," Mr. Hummel replied over his shoulder. "Now get to work!"

Sam practically beamed as he sat the wrench down on a shelf. He pulled his hoody off, leaving him in a plain red t-shirt, before moving over to the car; only stopping to grab a rag on his way over.

It took him less than an hour to do what Burt requested of him. He'd taken the time to tighten the bearings on the other tires and fill them with air. When Burt came over to check on his progress, Sam waited with baited breath as the man double-checked all of his work.

"Let's go work out a schedule in my office kid," Burt said when he finished and a bright grin nearly split his face. He didn't care that he now had oil stains on his t-shirt or that there were black marks creeping up his arms from the dirty tire treads.

Sam and Burt worked out a schedule that allowed him to come in two days a week from one in the afternoon to five on Mondays and Wednesdays. He would also be getting paid $9.75 an hour after he filled out and turned in all the paperwork.

Now, he just needed to put in his two-week notice at the Pizza Parlor.

The best part was that he'd be able to participate in those sports camps now. Yeah, whoever said that he wasn't blessed was a damn liar. Sam left Burt's Auto shop with a folder full of papers he needed to fill out, but he had a new—and much improved—job and maybe even a new friend in Mr. Hummel.

He couldn't wait to tell Mercedes.


May 26, 2011 (Friday)

Lynn's House—Lynn's Bedroom

Lima, Ohio

9:12AM

Jeff woke up to a pleasant warmth curled against his chest, but the unpleasant roiling of his stomach and the pounding headache that settled in completely overwhelmed the nice feeling of being in the same bed with someone again.

The fact that his bladder was precariously full didn't help matters. Jeff slid out of bed and stumbled directly into the nightstand. He stubbed his toe and let out a loud curse. The sound of his own yelling made his head throb.

Jeff swayed on the spot, still feeling drunk before he hurried to the bathroom in the most ungraceful manner possible. It couldn't even be called walking. He felt like he was doing a mix of hobbling, stumbling, and running as he moved to the restroom. It didn't help that everything was turned around because it wasn't his bathroom—he'd have to freak out about not being in his room once his bladder wasn't about to burst.

Jeff felt like he pissed out a waterfall, before he washed his hands in the sink. He finally caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and grimaced in disgust. He looked horrendous.

His eyes were puffy and red and his face was sickly pale. Jeff's hair was a rat's nest of tangles and he just looked like death warmed over. The sight was the last straw for his stomach, and Jeff found himself puking into the toilet.

His eyes burned at the acrid smell. Had he just drank pure liquor with no food whatsoever? The entire day was fuzzy, but he knew that his hangovers usually weren't this bad unless he had done something stupid like that.

He upchucked into the porcelain bowl again—his stomach muscles clenching painfully as his body dispelled its' disagreeable contents. His head pounded worse than ever and Jeff knew that he was probably dehydrated to begin with, and this sure as hell wasn't helping anything.

"Jeffrey?" Lynn's sweet voice sounded from the bedroom and he groaned. He didn't want her to see him like this. He'd apparently been enough of an asshole last night if he was at this point.

What could have set him off like this?

"Jeff?" He heard Lynn's voice right outside the door this time. Jeff wanted to tell her to stay away; to not come inside because he was a pathetic fucker who did stupid shit like drink himself silly. The last thing he wanted was for her to see how broken and useless he really was.

But before he could tell her to stay outside, Jeff's gag reflex went into a frenzy and he started puking again. The door swung open behind him and he felt the rush of cool air blow across his sweaty skin. It was a moment of relief before he went right back to throwing up.

"Oh, Jeff," Lynn said and Jeff heard her shuffle quickly across the floor and to his side. She knelt next to him for a moment and her small hands rubbed his shoulders. She didn't even seem to be bothered by the fact that he was throwing up about a foot away from her; she just rubbed his back as he fought to get himself under control.

"I'll be right back," she said, placing a kiss on his shoulder before moving away.

Jeff heard her hurry out of the room, but his mind was torn between the tingles that spread across his skin from the feel of her soft lips on his body and the horrible roiling going on in his stomach.

The upset stomach won out in the end, but that kiss put up a damn good fight.

He didn't know how long she'd been gone, but it felt like forever. He was finally able to stop puking long enough to flush the toilet and slump against the wall next to the toilet. His whole body felt limp and sore. Now, he knew why he'd never been much of a drinker.

Lynn walked into the room with two glasses of water in hand, and a small bag hanging off her shoulder. She set the water on the sink and then pulled a can of ginger ale and a package of saltines out of the bag. He watched as she moved over to the wall of cabinets across the bathroom and opened a cabinet at chest height

. It was full of pill bottles from what he could see—Tylenol, Advil, children's meds, vitamins. Now he knew where she kept the chewable dinosaur vitamins she made Stevie and Stacey take every morning with breakfast.

She'd bought Sam his own bottle to put in his restroom. Jeff watched in a daze as she pulled out a bottle of extra strength Tylenol. His head was pounding. His mouth tasted horrible, and he felt extremely weak.

Lynn walked over to him, grabbing the glass of water off the counter and then sitting down next to him on the ground. She handed him some quick-dissolve Tums and the Tylenol, before helping him sip on the glass of lukewarm water. When he'd swallowed almost half of it, she got up again.

Lynn was wearing a purple tank top and skin tight black shorts that molded to her figure. Her short hair slightly wavy and wild, but Jeff thought she looked beautiful. He closed his eyes and tried to fight the nausea down again.

Jeff only opened his eyes when he felt a cool wet cloth being pressed gently against his forehead. He met her worried hazel eyes as she wiped his face down with the moist towel. Her lips were twisted into a frown and Jeff wanted to cry at the thought of upsetting her. He knew that he'd messed up last night. It made his current state that much more miserable.

"You scared me," Lynn whispered and Jeff stared at her. He felt her fingertips trace across the stubble on his jaw, before her hand disappeared. His heart broke at the expression on her face.

"What happened?" he asked—his voice raspy and it hurt to talk, but he had to know.

"You drank three-fourths of a brand new Jack Daniels bottle," Lynn replied, "Straight."

"Damn," Jeff cursed as he let his head fall gingerly against the wall.

Closing his eyes, Jeff felt the memories coming back the longer he thought about what had gone on yesterday—phone call, Elizabeth, Chris—Christopher. He'd called Chris and found out that Elizabeth had gone to him.

The pain came rushing back again, and Jeff scrambled back to the toilet as his stomach turned upside down from the emotional avalanche. He remembered exactly why he'd chugged a whole bottle of alcohol. Knowing that she went back to Chris—it just shattered him. He'd thought her leaving was the last straw, but finding that out; it killed him inside.

Jeff didn't even realize that he'd started crying until Lynn's hands gripped his shoulders and he felt her forehead rest in the center of his back. He puked again—the tears sliding down his cheeks hard and fast. He gripped the sides of the toilet as leaned over it. The more he thought about it—about him and her—the more it felt like his heart was collapsing in his chest.

How could she do this to him? She may not have loved him as much as he loved her, but they had always been friends. Why would she treat him this way? Why was he never good enough for her? Why did she have to find some way to destroy his happiness when he was just beginning to recover? What did he ever do to deserve this type of pain?

"You haven't done anything wrong, Jeffrey," Lynn said—her voice insistent and he could hear the tears caught in her throat. "You don't deserve this!"

He hadn't even realized that he'd been speaking out loud, but it didn't matter because Lynn was on a roll.

"Do you really think that I would care about someone who wasn't a good person after what Davis did to me?" Lynn asked her voice full of outrage. "If you weren't good enough—you wouldn't be in my house. If you didn't deserve my love, God never would've told me to bring you into my home and family and into my heart. So, you can stop that foolishness right now, Jeffrey Evans, because I won't let that harlot come into my house and tear you apart."

Jeff looked over his shoulder at her and was taken aback to see the fire burning in Lynn's eyes. She looked like she was torn between comforting him and going out to murder Elizabeth.

"If you think for one second that I'm going to let that bitch make your life hell—then you've got a lot to learn about how I operate. Let that woman step to me and I'll help her develop an intimate relationship with the concrete when I shove her face into the pavement," she said—her voice was almost a growl and the set look on her face had a stirring of arousal pooling in Jeff's stomach.

How could a woman as sweet as Lynn switch to protective lioness within moments was astonishing to Jeff, but it wasn't any less beautiful. And he didn't for a second doubt that Lynn would throw down if she ever met Elizabeth face-to-face. He'd pity the day that happened, because Elizabeth would get her ass handed to her on a silver platter.

On second thought, he'd love to see that shit. He might even take pictures.

Jeff was pulled from his amusement when he threw up again, but Lynn rubbed his back. He rested his forehead against his arm. "I'm sorry for getting so wasted," he told her and Lynn laughed softly.

"I probably would've done the same thing you did if I was in your place," Lynn replied. "Who wouldn't want to forget heartbreak like that?"

"So you're not mad at me?" Jeff asked as he peered at her. He watched as one of her eyebrows rose and her lips quirked in a sassy manner as she looked back at him.

"Oh no," Lynn said, "I'm pissed as hell at you right now. You could've given yourself alcohol poisoning! I'm just being nice because I understand why you did it, but that doesn't make me like it. Plus, you're being punished enough. You're going to keep puking until all the alcohol is out of your system."

Jeff groaned in dismay and Lynn chuckled.

"It's gonna be a long day, buddy," she told him cheerfully, and Jeff cut his eyes at her. She checked him real quick. "Don't give me that look, mister. It's not my fault that you're going to be hella sick all day."

"Won't you take pity on a poor unfortunate soul, woman?"

"I'm sitting here, rubbing your back while you reek of alcohol and you're vomiting the most atrocious colors I've ever seen," Lynn sassed, "I'm pretty sure that I'm having pity on you."

Jeff choked out a laugh. "You've got a point there," he told her and Lynn smiled at him. "How'd we end up—ya know—sleeping in the same bed?"

The amusement flared in her hazel eyes.

"What?" she teased, "You want to know if we did the horizontal tango?"

"If we did that," Jeff said, "You would be a lot less clothed and you'd have a lot more hickeys all over your body."

He couldn't believe he said that, but damn if it wasn't true. Jeff would have licked and sucked all over that soft chocolate skin of hers like she was a freaking ice cream cone. He wasn't an idiot.

He wanted Lynn like he'd never wanted a woman before.

She was sexy and adorable and strong and intelligent. She made him laugh and feel safe. Lynn wouldn't let him get down on himself without helping him get back up to the top. She argued with him and made him see more than one side. Lynn was everything he'd ever wanted or needed in a woman, and he knew that he was falling for her.

If he wasn't already in love with her as it was.

Her hazel eyes opened wide and he could tell that she was blushing furiously, but she didn't object to his insinuation. The idea didn't look like it repulsed her. In fact, it looked like it intrigued her.

"Maybe one day, we'll find out," she replied and Jeff stared at her. Had she really just—? Yeah, she did. It was the first time either of them had admitted to feeling more than friendship for each other out loud and Jeff wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do about it.

He couldn't kiss her with vomit breath and he wouldn't because he was still married to Elizabeth, but fuck all if she wasn't a non-factor at this point. He was afraid that he was rushing into something. He didn't want to hurry into a relationship with Lynn and mess it all up. She deserved better, and if he was the one for her—they could both hold out a little longer until he could give her the absolute best that he had to offer.

"One day," Jeff said softly, "We will."

The promise in his voice seemed to register with Lynn because the emotions swelled in her eyes. They gazed at each other for an unbroken moment. Everything they'd felt and all the things they'd kept inside for the past few weeks was at the surface—electric and burning as they watched each other. Their eyes said all they needed to for the moment.

He wasn't ready to trail into the far more dangerous territory of complete emotional enrapture that he had for her. The sexual tension they were playing with seemed perilous enough for the both of them. He knew it wasn't about sex for her, and judging by the way she was looking at him, she knew that he didn't think it was about sex either.

One day, he'd be man enough to tell her exactly how he felt—and show her as well.

"Come on," Lynn said as she removed her gaze from his and scooted back from him.

"Where am I going?" Jeff asked.

"It always helps me to sit under the hot water in the shower when I'm feeling nauseous," Lynn replied. "Drink the water I brought you while I warm up the water. I'll go grab you some clean clothes from your room."

He was tempted to ask if she was going to join him, but Jeff was sure that he'd tested enough boundaries for the day. So he watched as she turned on the shower and tested the water with one hand. He could see the steam curling up from the water and he could feel his head clearing a little already as he quickly drunk both glasses of water.

Lynn walked back over to him with a fluffy purple towel in hand. She gave it to him, before ushering him towards the shower. "I'll be right back with some clothes and your toothbrush," she said, "Wash everything, please. You smell like you belong in the liquor cabinet."

Jeff laughed but he nodded. She nudged him in the side with her elbow, before scampering out of the bathroom. He stripped his boxer briefs off right when Lynn did an about-face and walked back into the bathroom.

She stood there in shock for a moment—Jeff's face was bright red.

He couldn't believe that Lynn was staring at him while he was butt-naked, but she certainly didn't look disappointed. The surge of pride that swept through him was powerful, but his face was still on fire.

"There's regular—uh—bar soap under the sink," Lynn stammered—her voice oddly strangled, "So you don't have to use my body wash." That was all she seemed to be able to get out before her embarrassment took over and she turned to hurry out of the room. She moved a bit too quickly, and managed to run into the door frame.

Jeff laughed and said, "I thought I was the one with a hangover!"

"Jeffrey!"


May 26, 2011 (Friday)

The Jones Estate—Mercedes' Bedroom

Lima, Ohio

10:11AM

Mercedes wasn't bored, but they'd been out of school for a week now and she was restless. It was nice not having to be up at six in the morning, and even nicer to have time to sit down and map out her study schedule for the summer.

She couldn't play around with her summer homework. Her AP classes were no joke for this semester and she had to stay on top of everything if she wanted to finish everything and get it done well.

With her homework schedule made, Mercedes was less stressed about all the assignments she had to complete—it was great knowing the deadline for something, even if they were self-imposed.

Mercedes clicked around on her computer—debating whether or not she should practice her skills on the violin or write some music. She'd already prepared her songs for the children's choir rehearsals for the next two months and she had a list of songs that she wanted them to sing for the summer recital.

This was what she got for being productive. Now, she had nothing to do—and what was that?

Mercedes pressed the back button to go back to the page she had just clicked past. She took a moment to look over the advertisement for a Lima Summer Camp Counselor position. Apparently, one of the staff members had dropped out not four days before the start of the camp and they needed someone to fill the spot.

It was only three days a week—Monday, Wednesday and Thursday—from nine to three. If she got it, it wouldn't interfere with her homework schedule or her choir practices. It would be nice to make money for herself, and getting job experience was always a plus.

Mercedes mulled over the idea for a moment longer, before she opened the application and started filling it out. There were quite a few questions and a couple of simple essay questions. It wouldn't take her more than an hour to do—and after checking the time, Mercedes knew that she had plenty of time to do it and her homework before her date with Sam that night.

A smile crossed her face at the thought; she had no idea what he had in mind, but she was excited. Her train of thought vanished when her cell phone started vibrating on her desk, and she picked it up after seeing Quinn's name flash across her screen.

"Hey Que," she said as she turned her phone on speaker and then started answering the questions on the job application.

"Hi Mimi," Quinn answered. "What are you doing?"

"Filling out a job application for a camp counselor," Mercedes replied.

"Oh," Quinn said, "Bored already?"

Mercedes laughed and replied, "No. I just want something other to do than choir and homework."

"You could try doing Sam—"

"Quinn!"

The girl's laughter floated through the speakers of her phone, but Mercedes glared at it, her face warm from embarrassment.

"You know I'm kidding, girl," Quinn said, "but once you're done with your application—want to come to the mall with me? We need a date. I haven't seen you in forever!"

"You saw me last Saturday!"

"Exactly," Quinn replied, "Last Saturday. That's too long. My brain is working again—you're not allowed to go four days without seeing my thuggish mug."

Mercedes laughed.

"Fine, I'll text you when I'm heading out. I need an outfit for my date with Sam tonight anyway—"

"Date?" Quinn exclaimed, "You have a date with Sam tonight and didn't update me? This is what I mean when I say that it's been too long. Unacceptable, Mimi."

"I understand, Que," Mercedes replied in amusement. "I'll see you in a little while."

"'kay, girl," Quinn responded, "See you then! Love you."

"Love you too," Mercedes said, "See you soon."

Quinn ended the call and Mercedes turned her attention to churning out her application. It took her about forty minutes to get it all done, and then she took an extra ten minutes to read over everything to make sure it was correct. Once finished, she submitted it; bookmarked the page then closed the browser and put her desktop to sleep.

Mercedes checked the time and then hurried to grab her purse off of the hook next to the wall. She slipped her phone in her bag and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her soft green cotton dress still looked adorable; the scoop neck and cinched empire waist highlighted her figure and her white keds still looked fly.

She fluffed her curls, and slipped on a white cardigan, before she texted Quinn that she was heading over right then.


May 26, 2011 (Friday)

City of Lima Shopping Center

Lima, Ohio

11:34AM

Mercedes found Quinn standing in front of JC Penny's. She was wearing a black and white long-sleeved dress with a pair of bright yellow gladiator sandals and a long necklace with a shimmery yellow flower and crystals shaped like leaves.

"You look hot," Mercedes said and Quinn gave her a bright smile before pulling Mercedes into a hug. "Now I want to go home and change."

"You look beautiful," Quinn said as she put her arm through Mercedes'. "Now let's get to looking for this date outfit. We have lots of stores to move through and only a limited amount of time. When is he picking you up?"

"Seven," Mercedes replied and Quinn grinned as they started walking towards the department store. "But isn't your therapist appointment today at three?"

The question made Quinn's green eyes darken with anxiety, but she shook it off. "Yeah," she responded quietly, "It's at three today."

"How are you feeling? Is your mom going with you?" Mercedes asked—placing her free hand over Quinn's when the girl let out a bitter chuckle.

"No," she answered, "My mom wouldn't even let me finish the question before she said no. I don't think she's ready to accept my crazy just yet."

"Stop calling yourself crazy," Mercedes said firmly. "And I'm sure your mom will come around soon. Maybe she's just scared."

"I'm petrified," Quinn told her, "yet I'm going."

"As much as it sucks, you have to go, but she can walk away from the problem," Mercedes said. Quinn stared at her—her gaze heavy and she sighed. "I don't like it either, but it's a lot easier to pretend that the problem doesn't exist when you can walk away from it."

Quinn was silent for awhile and Mercedes squeezed her hand. "If you want me to go with you, I will."

"I can't ask you to do that when even my mother doesn't want to—"

"You didn't ask," Mercedes said, "I offered."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment as they rode the escalator up to the second floor where women's clothes were located. "I'd really appreciate it," Quinn replied and Mercedes kissed the girl's cheek.

"Then I'll be there."

"Okay," Quinn said with a bright smile, "enough of that crap. Let's talk about what you've been up to this week while we find this outfit of yours!"

Mercedes laughed at the excited expression on Quinn's face as she was dragged into the racks of clothing. "I talked to Kurt," she told the blonde as she flipped through some dresses. None of them were really her taste though, so she moved onto the next one.

"How'd it go?" Quinn asked—she was more than aware of the sudden distance between Mercedes and Kurt. Mercedes had spent an hour on the phone after Sam left her house last Saturday complaining about the argument between them at her party.

"Not well," Mercedes admitted and Quinn's green eyes narrowed.

"What'd he do?" she asked.

"Girl, it's a long story—"

"We're going to be here for almost three hours," Quinn interrupted, "And we've got nothing else to do but look for an outfit and let me get all up in your business."

Mercedes laughed at Quinn's statement, but she proceeded to tell her the entire story—from her going over to Kurt's house, their argument, the fight, and how they'd all been sat down with the Hudson-Hummel parents. Mercedes recounted her argument with Sam after everything had been over too.

By the time she was done, the girls had moved from JC Penny's with Mercedes buying this vertical striped cardigan—it had gold and yellow stripes and a faint shimmer to the fabric; Mercedes fell in love with it immediately. They were now in Torrid, and Quinn's face was a mix of shock, pride, and anger.

"Go Sam!" was the first thing that she blurted when she recovered her senses.

Mercedes stared at her and Quinn quirked her lips at her in return. "What? I wish he'd landed a hit on Kurt's smarmy little face—"

"Que!"

"Uh-uh, oh no," Quinn stated, "Don't you go protecting that damn uncoordinated elf—"

"Quinn," Mercedes said in exasperation, "What are you doing?"

"I wish I was there," Quinn replied, "I would've drop kicked him."

"Seriously?"

"He made you cry," Quinn said indignantly. "That douche is lucky that he's still alive. I'm mentally torturing him as we speak."

"He made a mistake—"

"He gets no redemption from you! He better apologize or he can stay the hell away from you."

"Quinn—"

"Don't Quinn, me! He better fix himself before he comes back around you."

"Would you stop—"

"I swear if he even looks at you cross-eyed, I'll kill him."

Mercedes eyed Quinn dubiously over the rack of dresses that she was angrily flipping through. Her jaw was set and she seemed to be extremely upset. Was it bad to feel good that her soul-sister cared so much? If it was, Mercedes couldn't help it. She had gone so long without people noticing and caring about her feelings that having Sam and Quinn want to fight for her—it just surprised her.

A bubble of warmth and fondness grew in the pit of her stomach as she watched the blonde move from one rack to another.

"Thanks Que," she said softly and the girl's green eyes snapped to her in confusion.

"Thanks for what?"

"For caring," Mercedes replied and a look of understanding stole across Quinn's features. The two of them shared a telling look and Mercedes smiled at her best friend. She had missed Quinn, and she'd never been more grateful that they'd fixed their relationship.

Quinn went back to flipping through dresses and Mercedes was about to head over to the rack of shoes because she spotted some killer black and cork wedge heels from the corner of her eye. And was that a ribbon? Mercedes turned to walk over when she heard her phone ring. She fished around in her bag and grabbed it from its pocket on the side.

She wasn't expecting to see Santana's name flashing across the screen, but she answered the call anyway.

"Hello?"

"Wheezy!" Santana replied, "Just the chica I was hoping to talk to."

"Considering you called me, San," Mercedes said in amusement, "I would be the one to answer the phone."

"Eh," Santana responded, "Semantics."

"Did you want something?"

"When do I not want something?" The rejoinder had Mercedes chuckling. She shook her head. Santana was a mess—hilarious and quite rude at times, but she was as messy as they came.

"San—"

"Fine, Aretha," Santana said dramatically, "I wanted to know if you were up to some fine dining at Breadstix tomorrow?"

"Uh, sure," Mercedes answered—she was a bit taken aback. It wasn't like Santana made it a habit to actually hang out with her. They were friends, but not particularly close. "What time? And is it just us?"

"Well, it'd be around noon, because I needs my sleep," Santana replied, "but I'm inviting all of the glee girls. And only the girls—I don't need to see any pissing contests around my food. So the penis parade is not invited and that includes Kurtsie. "

Mercedes choked on her laugh, but she was more than grateful. She had no desire to see Kurt's face anytime soon. And Sam and Kurt at the same table could be disastrous—not to mention Quinn might purposely poison the boy.

"Are you inviting Rachel?"

"Why would you bring the hobbit into this discussion, Wheezy?"

"She's a glee girl, too."

"I wouldn't count her as a girl—I think cockroach is a much better description—"

"Messy and outta line!"

"You don't like her neither," Santana responded—her voice reminiscent of a pout, "So I don't see why I get judged when you want to set her on fire too."

"Rachel isn't as bad as all that—"

"Bullshit! Don't make me start cussing in Spanish, because I will teach you about the hobbit."

"I still think you should invite her—"

"She's gonna say no, Aretha!"

"Well, then let her say no, but don't make yourself look like an ass for not extending an invitation. This way she won't have a leg to stand on if she complains about not being liked."

Santana let out a grumpy sigh. "Why are you always trying to get me to do right by people?"

"Because you're better than the bitch face you show everyone else."

"You barely know me!"

"I know enough."

Santana was silent on the other end for a moment, but she huffed out a breath. Mercedes grinned—she had totally won that conversation.

"Fine, I'll invite the hobbit."

"Thanks Santana."

"See you tomorrow, Wheezy," Santana said before she hung up the phone without giving Mercedes a chance to say goodbye. She didn't like Rachel but she wasn't going to ignore her existence. She knew what that felt like, and she'd be damned if she made the same mistakes that Kurt did.

Mercedes finally reached the shoe rack as she put her purse back in her bag. They were perfect! She lifted them off the shelf and admired them, before she was distracted by a strangled gasp from Quinn.

"Mercy! Holy—Mercedes!" Quinn whisper-yelled from across the room. Mercedes glanced over at her soul-sister and burst out laughing at the huge grin stretched across Quinn's face. The blonde lifted a hanger in the air as she hurried over to Mercedes.

The diva caught a glimpse of the dress in Quinn's hand and her jaw dropped slightly. It was gorgeous. Quinn looked smug when she came to a stop in front of Mercedes and she waved the dress in front of Mercedes' face.

"I think we found your dress for tonight," Quinn told her—the proud smirk was balanced by the excitement in her green eyes. Both of them let out a squeal of happiness before Quinn started dragging Mercedes off to the dressing room; Mercedes clutched the shoes in her hands.


May 26, 2011 (Friday)

Lynn's House—Dining Room

Lima, Ohio

4:49PM

Jeff was still nauseous, but he was no longer dehydrated and his headache had pretty much vanished. Lynn made him drink a glass of water every half-hour to expedite the removal of alcohol from his body. He was grateful, but Jeff was sure that he'd never peed more in his life.

"Woman," Jeff protested as Lynn placed two more glasses of water in front of him, "If I drink anymore water, my liver will be so clean that it'll look like I got a transplant from a baby."

"Well, you're acting like a toddler right now, so it'd be fitting," Lynn retorted and Jeff side-eyed her indignantly. She shot him a sarcastic look and Jeff sighed heavily as he lifted the glass of water. He resigned himself to making another trip to the restroom in about fifteen minutes.

As he drank his water, they got back to work. They'd worked on the new hires all day long—Jeff reviewing the interview documents and resumes that Lynn showed him. Both of them had different opinions on who should be hired or not, and they bickered over each selection.

The good thing was that they were almost done with their selection process because Jeff's motivation to do anything was fading quickly. Stacey and Stevie were in the backyard running around with Marley. Delia had dropped off the twins around noon. Stacey had initially been reading a book and Stevie watched some cartoons, but they got bored quickly. So, playing outside was a good plan. The two of them could see the kids through the window as they worked.

Lynn and Jeff were on their final round of applicants when they heard the front door open and close.

"Sam, is that you, darlin?" Lynn called. There was a long moment of silence. Jeff glanced at Lynn, who shrugged and looked over her shoulder. "Sam?"

"Yeah Lynn," the teen responded, "It's me!"

"Are you gonna come in and say hello?" she joked. Jeff's eyebrows furrowed when he heard Sam let out a nervous chuckle.

"Um," he replied, "I'd rather not."

"What does that mean?" Lynn asked—a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. She shot Jeff a confused look and he shook his head. He wasn't sure what was going on either.

When Sam didn't answer her, she said, "Sam, come here!"

"I've got some stuff to do before I head out—"

"That wasn't a question," Jeff said—making sure that Sam knew that he was crossing lines and it was not acceptable. There was the distinct sound of a sigh and then Jeff heard slow footsteps walking in the direction of the dining room. He and Lynn traded a disconcerted look before Sam's form appeared in the doorway.

His head was bowed—blond hair hiding his face from both of them—and he stayed in the doorway, his arms crossed. "What's up, guys?"

Lynn looked concerned and Jeff didn't know what to think. Had Sam seen him and Lynn sleeping together in the same bed? He didn't seem angry, but that was a definite possibility.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Lynn asked and Sam shook his head.

"I'm fine," he replied quietly.

"You don't seem fine," Lynn said, "Did you get in a fight with Mercy? You didn't break up did you?" Lynn sounded horrified, and Sam furiously shook his head.

"No!" Sam replied, "We didn't break up. We got into an argument, but we're good. Great, even. I'm—"

"Sam, look at me," Jeff ordered. He could have sworn that he saw something on Sam's face when his kid shook his head, but he wasn't sure about it. His eyes narrowed when Sam tensed. "Now, Samuel."

Lynn stared at him, confused, but then she looked back at Sam, who had finally lifted his head. She gasped when she saw Sam's face and Jeff stood out of his seat instantly—a thunderous cloud of rage overwhelming his vision.

"Darlin'!" she cried, practically launching herself out of her chair—not even caring that her papers flew all over the table and fell onto the floor. "What happened, baby?" she asked as she hurried to him.

Lynn's hand's grasped Sam's jaw as she examined the giant black eye he was sporting and the busted lip. He didn't fight her off as she fussed over him with gentle fingers. Jeff made his way over to his son; he was going to rip the face off the son of a bitch who thought he could hit his kid.

"Who did this?" Jeff growled—reaching out with a soft hand to tilt Sam's chin upward so he could get a better look. Yeah, he had a real shiner over the side of his eye.

"No one did it to me, dad," Sam replied, "I got into a fight."

"Samuel Evans!"

"You did what?"

"Explain yourself, young man," Lynn demanded—her hands were planted on her hips and her hazel eyes were narrowed at Sam. She looked mad as hell; and for a moment, Jeff felt a flicker of pity for his son, before he remembered that he was pissed too. "What on earth could possibly make you get into a fight?"

Sam's jaw tightened and Jeff saw his hands clench. So, Sam was still mad about whatever had set him off.

"Mercedes—"

"What about Mercedes?"

"Kurt made Mercedes cry and when I saw her so upset; I just lost my cool," Sam admitted with a weak grimace. Lynn shook her head.

"Why would Kurt make Mercedes cry?" Jeff asked—was he missing something here? He'd met Kurt many times before, and the kid could be a little bit much, but he didn't seem cruel. Why would anyone make Mercedes cry anyway? She was one of the sweetest people he'd ever met.

Lynn was frowning and Sam looked just as displeased as she did. Jeff eyed them both warily.

"Kurt was Mercedes' best friend," Lynn answered, "And they've been incredibly distant this year. It's been a problem since he transferred to Dalton and then came back with a boyfriend."

"Don't forget that he ditched Mercedes for Rachel's friendship," Sam said with a scoff. "Rachel's got her good moments, but she's got nothing on Cede."

Lynn looked like she agreed vehemently, but she kept her mouth shut—still shooting Sam the stink-eye. Jeff had never met Rachel, but he was sure that he'd be hard pressed to find anyone who was more wonderful than Mercedes.

Yeah, he was a huge fan of his son's girlfriend. Not that he'd ever say so to Sam, but he knew that she was good for him. He'd known it since she'd come over to their motel room with a home-cooked meal despite barely knowing Sam. Jeff had seen the romantic potential between the two the second Sam had seen her standing in their motel room, and how he reacted like a nervous wreck.

"Doesn't mean that you're not about to get chewed out for getting into a fight," Jeff told his son and Sam looked down at the ground—shame-faced. "I understand wanting to protect your girlfriend, son, but you can't always do that with your fists."

"Mercedes has already told me exactly how she feels about me getting into a fight," Sam replied, an amused smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "She was verbal and very clear that she doesn't want me fighting her battles for her. In fact, she told me last night after we left Mike's house that 'she was a woman before me, and she'll be one while she's with me, and I better not try to step to every clown that comes across her path or I'd be the one getting hit'."

Jeff spotted the flash of amusement that crossed Lynn's face. He also saw the pride in her eyes as she grinned to herself and then covered it up with a stern expression. He wanted to laugh too. Sam looked fond, exasperated, and amused all at once.

"Well," Jeff said—clearing his throat, "There's not much I can add to that, because you know she's right."

Sam looked sheepish. "You're telling me," he replied with a shake of his head. "It's going to take some time to get used to dating a girl like Mercedes."

Lynn couldn't quite hold in her giggle this time and Sam pouted. Lynn burst out laughing, before opening her arms to Sam and pulling him into an embrace. She stood on tip toe and kissed his cheek.

"She's a Jones woman," Lynn said as she smoothed some of the stray hairs on Sam's head. "She's strong and intelligent—you're going to have to get acclimated real quickly, because she may compromise, but she'll never change."

Jeff watched Sam close his eyes as Lynn examined the purpling and slightly swollen black eye he had.

"Let me go get some ice and I'll put a little ointment on that lip," Lynn said, before she stepped back from Sam.

His heart beat a bit faster. She was such a wonderful woman.

"Thanks Lynn," Sam told her and Lynn smiled, before moving away. When they were alone in the room, Jeff motioned for Sam to have a seat. Sam slumped into a chair and Jeff sat in the one perpendicular to him at the head of the table.

Making sure that Lynn wasn't within earshot, Jeff grinned at his son and then held up a fist.

"Did you get in a few good licks?"

Sam snickered under his breath and met his dad's unspoken fist bump. "Yeah, a few, but I was double-teamed."

They smiled at each other, before Jeff got serious. Something had happened to set Sam and Mercedes off. He knew that his kid wasn't a hot head, unless he was in a highly emotional situation.

"Do you know exactly what happened?" Jeff asked and Sam shook his head.

"When I got there, Mercedes was already crying and I just pieced together what most likely happened and who caused it, before I went in fists-flying. I know it was Kurt. She told me that it was Kurt, who had made her cry, but she won't tell me what he said."

Sam leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I know it was bad though, dad. She looked heartbroken. Once I saw how hurt she was, things quickly escalated into a brawl with Finn and Blaine."

"Who stopped the fight? Mercedes?"

"No," Sam replied, "Burt Hummel did. He made all of us sit down together and talk everything out. Kurt has a reason for his story, but honestly—none of it makes me want to let him off the hook for making Mercedes feel that way again."

"I normally don't approve of violence," Lynn said as she walked back into the room and dropped a cloth-wrapped ice pack and a tube of Neosporin onto the tabletop, "but I kind of wish that you had clocked him good—just once even."

Jeff chuckled at the impish expression on her face as she turned to Sam.

"Tilt your head back a little, darlin'," she told him and Sam did as asked. Lynn gently placed the icepack on his swollen eye, before lifting the Neosporin and opening the cap. She applied it to the small cut on Sam's lip with gentle fingers.

"Do you have any other bruises?" she asked.

"There's a huge one along my back that hurts something fierce when I move suddenly, but other than that—I'm fine."

"Hmm," Lynn responded, "I've got some ace bandages upstairs and we can ice your side for awhile to keep the swelling and tenderness down."

"I've got a date at seven tonight," Sam said, "Icing bruises takes forever! And I still need to shower. I smell like transmission fluid and oil. I also have to cook some stuff for—"

Jeff grinned at his son. He seemed so happy and panicked at the same time; thinking that Lynn would make him miss his date with Mercedes. Judging by the twinkle in Lynn's eyes, she wanted to mess with Sam a little bit. She gave him a playful look and Jeff winked back at her.

"I don't know, Sam," she said with a shake of her head. "You're not going anywhere for the next two weeks. You're grounded."

His eye popped wide open and Sam sat up immediately. "I'm what?" he exclaimed—glancing between Lynn and him. Jeff was dying of laughter on the inside as Lynn shot his son a stern glare.

"You got into a fight and you think we're going to let you off scot free?" she asked. Sam looked like he was about to pass out from dismay.

"But—Mercedes—"

"You're gonna have to call her and cancel, buddy," Jeff interjected and Sam seemed to shrink in his seat. Lynn turned to walk out of the room in order to get the ace bandages from her bathroom. It was an extremely long silence, and Jeff thought his inner troll was enjoying the look on Sam's face a little bit too much.

When Lynn came back, she had Ziploc bags full of ice and bandages in her arms. Sam looked like he was about to cry.

"Sam, we're kidding," Jeff finally said and the joy that shot through Sam's eyes made him laugh. Lynn was laughing right alongside him.

"Put that ice pack down for a second and off with your shirt," Lynn ordered, "I need to see this bruise." With a relieved sigh, Sam stood up and did as she asked. The two of them sucked in a sharp breath when they spotted the large bruise that spread across Sam's side and lower back.

"When you said huge, I wasn't expecting this large!" Lynn said, before getting to work. "Ice back on your eye, Sam."

Jeff passed the ice pack to his son and Sam pressed it against his face. Lynn pulled a chair to Sam's side and began wrapping his torso in a thin layer of ace bandages.

"Why do you smell like cars?" Jeff asked as he leaned his hip against the edge of the table. Sam looked at him with his one open eye. He winced when Lynn pulled the bandages tight and she whispered a distracted apology as she pinned it together.

"I went to Mr. Hummel's Auto shop today," Sam answered, "And I applied for a job there."

"Why?" Jeff replied, "I thought we told you less hours, Samuel. Not go out and get another—"

"I applied so I could quit my job at the Pizza Parlor," Sam interrupted. "I got the job. He hired me for eight hours a week—four on Mondays and Wednesdays from 1 to 5. I already put in my two week notice at the Parlor, but they only need me to finish out my shifts until Sunday night, and I'm officially done with them."

Jeff stared for a moment, before he shot his son a proud smile. Sam blushed, but his face lit up.

"Congratulations muffin head," Jeff told him and Sam glared at him with one eye. Lynn was beaming at Sam until something obviously occurred to her.

"Ugh," Lynn groaned. They both stared at her. "I just realized that we need to go shopping."

What? Jeff cocked his head to the side in confusion and Sam mirrored his expression. How did Sam's announcement and shopping go together?

"Well," Lynn added, "Now that you can do the sports camps, I assume you're willing to actually do them?"

Sam nodded slowly, before trading a look with Jeff. Neither of them had any idea where this was going. Lynn looked exasperated as she pressed a Ziploc full of ice to Sam's side and wrapped a bandage around it.

"You're going to need clothes for baseball, basketball, and soccer—plus new running shoes; and now I'm going to have to get you stuff to wear to work, because I'll be damned if you wear all your clothes to work and get them all stained. And I have to worry about dance and soccer stuff for Stacey and swim stuff for Stevie—"Lynn trailed off into muttering as she wrapped Sam's side.

Jeff was aghast and Sam looked just as taken aback as he did. Was she really going to spend all that money on this stuff? Jeff laughed it off; there was no way he would be able to talk her out of it. Sam looked helpless, but he just held the icepack on his eye.

Jeff could see him praying that he'd be able to pick Mercedes up on time. Jeff was sure that he'd be fine. He watched as Lynn and Sam bickered over what clothes she needed to buy—an easy smile on his face.

They were certainly an odd family unit, but it was theirs and so far—it worked just as it needed to; if not better—

"Jeff, have you drunk anymore water?" Lynn's voice interrupted his train of thought and Jeff groaned.

"Do I really have to?"

"Jeffrey!"

"Do I really need any more ice?"

"I've barely put any on you—"

"If I keep going to the bathroom every thirty minutes, my privates are going to launch a protest—"

"I've got to get ready for a date in less than two hours—"

"You won't have a date if I ground your bottom—"

"But Lynn, you love me and Mercedes—"

"Jeff, drink the water!"

"Is it possible to get a water hangover?"

"Jeff!"

"I feel like a walking ice machine—"

"Sam!"

Oh yeah, they were definitely a family.


May 26, 2011 (Friday)

Paradise Park

Lima, Ohio

7:27PM

Sam opened the car door for Mercedes—grateful that Lynn had allowed him to borrow her car for the night. He really didn't want his truck to break down on the side of the road somewhere. Though she was his girlfriend, this was only their third official date and he didn't want to leave that sort of impression in her mind.

Being poor was bad enough; he could at least be creative and show her a great time.

She slipped her hand in his and he helped her out of the vehicle. Sam couldn't help but let his eyes roam over her figure. She looked stunning.

Mercedes was wearing a black lace dress that had a silky black layer underneath that stopped it from being see-through. The dress had a sweetheart neckline with three bronze buttons trailing down from the dip in the valley between her breasts to the top of the empire waist line. That area looked far too enticing for Sam to be comfortable with. The fabric of the dress ghosted along the line of her hips and it made her curves softer, but no less beautiful.

She wore a yellow and gold vertical-striped sweater over it; the fabric shimmering slightly in the moonlight. The colors made her brown skin glow. She was wearing a pair of cork wedge heels that had a silky black ribbon laced all the way up her calves. The ribbon tied into a bow just below the back of her knees.

Her hair was in light curls and her bangs had been clipped to the side of her head with a single bobby pin. It had taken every ounce of his will power to stop himself from gaping when he'd picked her up this evening.

Sam still wasn't sure how successful he'd been, but the twinkle in Mercedes' brown eyes told him that he'd done something right. He closed the door behind her and used his free hand to grab the picnic basket from the back seat of the car.

Then he nudged the back door shut with his hip, and twined his fingers with Mercedes'. She raised an eyebrow at him and he smiled back.

"Don't worry," Sam said, "I'll make this evening worth your time."

Mercedes laughed softly as he began leading her up the paved pathway towards the hilly side of the park. "I don't doubt that," Mercedes responded, "but I'm trying to figure out what's going on in that blond head of yours. Nighttime picnics seem to be more of Rachel and Finn's thing—"

Sam made a noise of discontent and Mercedes stopped talking abruptly. "I don't think so," he said, "Rachel wants a re-enactment of every romantic drama that she's ever seen." Sam stopped for a moment to turn around and look at his girlfriend.

She wasn't expecting the abrupt halt in motion and collided softly with his chest—a surprised expression on her face. Sam took the moment to stare into her brown eyes, before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"This," Sam said, "will be nothing as fake as what Rachel wants."

"Please don't talk about Rachel when you're about to kiss me," Mercedes said with a touch of sass in her voice. Sam blinked and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"But I wasn't about to—"

He shut up when Mercedes gave him a look of fond amusement and Sam grinned down at her, before he leaned over and kissed her—it was just as gentle as the first one, but longer.

He pulled back and Mercedes stood on her tip-toes to press another kiss against his mouth. He smiled at her in amusement. The playful twinkle in her eyes made his heart swell with affection for her.

"As much as I'd love to just stand here and kiss you all night," Sam whispered, resting his forehead against hers as she placed a hand on his chest. "There's food in this basket and I really don't think you'll appreciate it if I let it get cold."

Mercedes pouted and Sam chuckled. He placed a quick kiss on her lips, before turning around and pulling her along behind him once again. They walked in a comfortable silence as Sam led Mercedes to his favorite place in the park.

She looked dubious when they made their way through a slightly overgrown path through a patch of trees and shrubbery. "Are you planning on killing me?"

"Nope," he replied, "You're much cuter alive." Sam brushed a stray branch out of the way and let Mercedes walk past him onto the embankment. She glanced over her shoulder at him with a smirk.

"Good to know," she said. Sam only smiled and nodded his head towards the scene behind her. When she noticed—she gasped and he saw her jaw drop slightly.

The view of the city from the hills by Paradise Park was spectacular. The lights beamed against the darkness of the sky and it gave the whole area a surreal feeling. Sam couldn't help but grin at her astonishment. Maybe this date would be just as perfect as he was hoping it would be.


"How did you find this?" she asked—Mercedes was entranced by the sight. She'd thought that after New York, she would never get the chance to see a skyline as pretty. And this one wasn't a true comparison to the grandeur that was New York, but it was a part of home and that made it even more special to her.

Sam walked past her—closer to the edge of the hill and he placed the basket at his feet.

"It was one of the first things I found when my family moved here," he admitted softly. Mercedes almost lost Sam's voice in the breeze, but she managed to hear him. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she admired the figure he cut. He was wearing a short-sleeved navy blue t-shirt with a pair of light wash jeans. He had on his red chucks and a red hoody. Mercedes thought he looked extremely handsome.

"I was so angry to be pulled away from my friends," Sam said and Mercedes felt herself being drawn closer to his figure. "I didn't know why we were being moved here, but I wasn't exactly happy about suddenly being taken from my whole life. So, I walked around and ended up finding this place."

Sam reached out and gently grabbed Mercedes' hand. He tugged at her fingers until she'd moved in front of him and he wrapped her up in his arms. The feel of his heart beating against her back, his chin on the top of her head, and his arms around her waist nearly brought tears to her eyes. It still felt unreal to be in this situation, and she was going to enjoy the hell out of it.

"It's been my escape for awhile," Sam told her, "I didn't have to be anyone but Sam when I was here. I came here sometimes when the fights got really bad between my parents or if everything was just too much. I would just sit here and remind myself of the reason I woke up in the morning and smiled."

"Does anyone else know about this place?"

Sam chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to the back of her head. She felt the rumble of laughter move down his chest.

"Just me," Sam replied, "and now, you. I trust you to love it as much as I do." Mercedes' heart almost burst. How was this boy real?

Sam let go of her after placing another kiss on the back of her head. He walked over to the basket; flipping the lid open and he pulled out two blankets.

"Do you need any help?" Mercedes asked and Sam shot her a look. "What?"

"Go look around," Sam replied, "I'll take care of this. You don't need to be doing anything right now except being sufficiently impressed and being wooed by my awesomeness."

"Boy," Mercedes said with a laugh, "you are too much."

"You like it," Sam answered. He winked at her and the action made her smile. She walked away from him before she leapt on him and kissed him senseless. Even though his eye was still quite swollen, Sam looked as handsome as ever. It was kind of unfair.

Mercedes stared around the area—admiring the flowers and trees and the sheer number of stars that were visible from here. She had gotten so lost in her observations that she didn't notice Sam calling her name.

"Nala!" Sam said; she could hear the amusement in his voice as she whipped around to look at him. Her face was warm and she was sure that he knew she was blushing. Mercedes moved quickly to his side. He grinned down at her and she wrinkled her nose at his silent teasing.

"For you, my lady," he told her—his arm sweeping out to the side as he gestured to her surprise. Mercedes followed his movement with her eyes and she smiled when she spotted the blanket spread out on the ground. A glowing lantern sat next to the wicker basket Sam had carried, but it was the vase of sunflowers and the two plates full of food that brought tears to her eyes.

"Sam," she breathed in amazement. It was so cheesy, but it was also the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. He'd brought all of her favorite foods—chicken nuggets and tater tots. He'd also prepared green beans—a shared favorite of theirs. He even remembered her favorite flower.

"Are those cherry juice boxes?" Mercedes asked and Sam nodded, before she let out a laugh. There was a Ziploc of carrots next to each plate and apparently, snicker-doodles for dessert. It was the best mix of all their favorite things that she'd ever seen.

What had she done to deserve a guy who was so incredibly sweet?

With a bright smile, Mercedes stood on her tip-toes and pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek. He looked down at her, a nervous expression on his face.

"I know it's not as extravagant or amazing as New York was, but—"

"Sam," Mercedes interrupted him—placing a finger against his lips. Even with his black eye, he looked so beautiful to her. "It's perfect." Sam stared into her eyes for a moment, and she let him see everything she was feeling—appreciation, adoration, attraction; it was all for him. A slow grin spread over his face and Mercedes laughed at the way his eyes danced with pride.

"Shall we?" he asked, lifting a hand in front of her for her to grab.

"Yes, we shall," she replied, smiling as she placed her hand in his. Sam escorted her to her place on the blanket and helped her sit down. He spread the second blanket over her lap, before moving to his side of the picnic area.

They dug into the food almost immediately and Mercedes loved every single bite. They talked about their day as they ate—Sam making Mercedes laugh so hard during one of his stories about playing basketball with his dad that she barely avoided choking on a green bean.

Mercedes loved that Lynn seemed to make the Evans family so happy—her aunt was always wonderful. When Sam recounted his dad and Lynn's reaction to seeing him today, Mercedes had to put her food down because she couldn't breathe through her giggles.

Mercedes made sure to tell him about applying for the summer camp job and then she told him about her girl-date with Quinn and how the blonde reacted to the story as well. Sam's face was red by the time he heard Quinn's threats against Kurt. He looked so amused. It was good to hear him laugh.

Sam told her all about his adventure with Papa Burt. She was flattered to hear that Burt still considered her family, but thinking about him brought back her negative feelings towards Kurt, but she was happy that Sam now had a job he'd enjoy.

"Wait—are you still working at the Pizza Parlor?" she asked in concern. Yes, it was summer, but she didn't want Sam to overwork himself; especially not at a place that he didn't like. Sam updated her on how his boss was already in the process of hiring someone new, so they were letting him leave on Sunday instead of working for the next two weeks.

Mercedes was relieved and proud of him—she had all faith that he'd do a great job at the auto shop. They chatted about anything and everything that came to mind, and when dinner was finished; Mercedes helped Sam pack away the dirty dishes.

She was surprised when he crawled over to her and laid down close enough for their sides to touch. Sam opened his arms to her and she willingly laid down next to him—throwing the blanket over both their bodies. Mercedes rested her head on Sam's chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist and then put his other underneath his head.

"You are the cuddliest boy I've ever met, Sam," she told him in amusement. Sam lightly squeezed her side in acknowledgement.

"I regret nothing," he replied and Mercedes laughed. She could hear his heartbeat under her ear. It was strong and steady and it put a smile on her face. How amazing was this boy?

They laid there for awhile in silence—just holding each other. Mercedes had never felt more at peace than she was right now. Sam had changed her life. He wasn't with her every moment, but he gave her courage. He made her acknowledge her strength and he showed her that she could be Mercedes Jones, and still be loved.

Sam made Mercedes feel desirable and it was a feeling that was as new as it was exciting. He didn't even have to say anything anymore for her to know what he was thinking. All he had to do was look at her with those green eyes of his and she felt so many emotions that she thought she'd burst.

"Come with me," Sam said as he gently urged her to sit up from their prone position. Mercedes sat up, but she gave him a confused glance. Sam gave her a soft smile. "There's something I've wanted to do for awhile now."

Mercedes blinked in surprise—her eyebrows arching upwards. Sam looked bewildered for a moment, before he blushed furiously. "Nothing like that!" he protested and then his eyes widened even more. "Not that I don't want to do that with you, but shit—"

Mercedes giggled and he snapped his mouth shut; his face bright red in the glowing light of the lantern. "It's okay Sam," she replied, "what did you want to do?"

He still looked embarrassed, but he got himself to his feet and offered her both of his hands. "It's a bit of a walk, but I think you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will," Mercedes said as Sam lifted her off the ground. He pulled up both blankets and folded them quickly. She helped him shove them back into the picnic basket and he grabbed the lantern in his hand. Mercedes took the basket and then Sam entwined the fingers of their free hands together.

They walked side-by-side along the path they had come and down the hillside once again. Mercedes started recognizing the area again when they passed the lake and came to the big tree and picnic tables that they'd been at all those weeks ago.

Sam led her to the wooden table and placed the lantern down, before guiding her to the bench. Mercedes wasn't sure what was going on, but she sat down and let Sam take the picnic basket from her hands.

When he dropped to both knees in front of her, she would be lying if she said that her eyes didn't get huge. She had a hell of a lot of feelings for Sam, but Blondie was sipping on crack if he was about to propose and thought she'd say yes.

She gave him the benefit of the doubt and kept her mouth shut as he reached out for her leg. Mercedes face got hot when she felt his slightly rough fingertips on the back of her knee and she stared at him dubiously—and slightly turned on.

"Sam," she squeaked, "What are you doing?"

Sam's face was pink too, but he didn't stop when he undid the bow of her shoe's ribbon. He took his time unwrapping the ribbon from her around her skin. Mercedes felt like her face was on fire—she should not want to jump her boyfriend right now. He was just unlacing her shoe, and touching her skin softly—and shit, she was happy that she had shaved again right before this.

The thought of Sam possibly feeling her leg hair stubble put a grimace on her face, but it was replaced by a soft inhale when Sam's fingers brushed all the way down her calf and then he softly pulled her shoe off.

She would never be able to take her shoes off the same way ever again.

Mercedes lightly squirmed on the bench; certain parts of her body warmer than they should be. If the first side was bad, the second was worse, because now she was expecting the arousing effects of Sam's soft touches and it was driving her crazy.

She waited until Sam tugged off her shoe and placed both on the bench next to her, before she said something. "Alright Blondie," she asked, "What's going on?"

"We're going to go play," Sam replied, his voice much deeper than it was normally. He looked up at her and Mercedes had to swallow hard at the sight of the desire in his green eyes. It should be illegal to look that sexy with a freakin' black eye.

What the hell, God? How was that even fair?

"Play?" she blurted. "Play where?"

Sam was in the process of pulling off his chucks. "On the playground," he replied—an amused smirk crossing his lips. Mercedes wanted to kiss it off his face—okay, what the fuck was wrong with her? Kiss it off his face? Really? That was some romantic stuff right there.

She blushed at her own thoughts. Thank all that was holy that Sam couldn't read her mind.

Sam nodded in the opposite direction of where they were sitting and she followed the motion. She remembered the playground from the first time they'd been here. Stacey and Stevie had played here—she could still hear the sound of their laughter.

Sam stood up from his spot on the ground—now barefoot. He put his shoes next to hers on the bench, before offering her his hands again. Mercedes took them reflexively and he pulled her up off the bench.

Sam held her hands as he walked backwards towards the playground.

"Why are we playing on a playground?" Mercedes asked skeptically, but she was totally eyeing the swing set over Sam's shoulder—

"Because you told me that swinging made you feel closer to God," Sam answered and Mercedes stared at him in shock. He remembered that? "And if anyone deserves to feel that kind of joy—it's you, Nala."

This boy was perfect. He may have imperfections, but Sam was perfect in every way that mattered. She opened her mouth to tell him such and then Sam disappeared from her view. He hit the ground with a loud curse and Mercedes almost fell too, but she managed to steady herself.

"What—"Mercedes exclaimed and then she started cackling when she saw the fallen tree branch that Sam had tripped over. His face was bright red as he lay sprawled out on the grass, and Mercedes was laughing so hard that she thought she was going to die.

"Are you—uh—okay?" she gasped out as she leaned over to help him back up. Sam looked disgruntled and slightly embarrassed, but he took her laughter in good humor.

"Now that I've been brought back down to earth," Sam said—making Mercedes laugh again. "I think it's time for me to kick your ass on the swings."

Mercedes gave him a look full of sass. "You really think that you're going to beat me in a swing race, Blondie?"

Sam raised an eyebrow in challenge and Mercedes poked him in the chest.

"Bring it, Sam," she told him, before she hip checked him and sprinted towards the playground. Sam barely moved, but it was enough to distract him and allow her to get a head start.

"Cede!" Sam yelled and Mercedes laughed as she ran faster towards the swing set. She heard him start running behind her. She crossed from grass to sand sooner than she expected, but she laughed when she saw Sam blow past her.

"Sam!" she cried before throwing herself towards the swings.

The two of them spent over an hour racing each other on the swings, climbing the monkey bars, and sliding down the slide. At one point, Sam started pushing her on the swing and Mercedes had never felt so light or free before. Most of the time they were laughing or taunting each other—she foolishly thought that New York was the best, but every date with Sam seemed to be better than the last.

Mercedes thought she was going to die when he made her get on the spin-wheel, but he stopped before she could start feeling sick. It was only when she had climbed up the jungle gym to go down the slide again that the playful atmosphere changed into something different.

"How now, fair maiden?" Sam's voice called to her. She peered over the side of the jungle gym and smiled when she saw him staring up at her from the ground. His hands were in his jeans pockets, but the expression on his face was earnest.

"I am well, kind knight," she replied—playing along because it was Sam and only he would decide to do something like this. Her boyfriend was such a dork. She liked him that way. "How art thou?"

"I am no knight, maiden," Sam told her—his voice wistful and sad. "I am but the penniless son of a poor man." Mercedes leaned over the railing and stared down at him. He had to know that she didn't care about his money. She was with him because he was Sam. That was more than anything she could ever ask for.

"Riches do not make you worthy of my attention," Mercedes answered, "Honesty, courage, intelligence—those are the traits that I do seek. And you, kind sir, you have them in spades."

"My heart quickens at the sound of your voice—I find that I am enraptured by your grace," Sam responded and Mercedes blushed deeply. This was the boy who said that he was horrendous in English class? Santana and Quinn needed to reevaluate their life choices if they thought Sam didn't have game. "Do you know how your beauty outshines the glistening moon? You have eyes as deep and as warm as a pool of melted chocolate—you own my affection."

Her fairytale moment—something she had dreamed of since she was a young child. Sam had given so much to her. He'd made her see how amazing being with someone could be.

Staring down into Sam's eyes, Mercedes heart felt as though it was filled to capacity. How could she care so much about one person? Was this love that made her heart pound and her palms sweat? Was this love that had tears gathering in her eyes?

"You have my heart," she replied and Sam's green eyes lit up as he smiled.

Heart-pounding, Mercedes moved along the railing—Sam following her as she moved across the jungle gym. "You are a handsome prince," she said as she climbed up a level, "even without the royal blood—your heart is pure gold—vibrant and shimmering."

She peered back down at him over the railing and Sam stared up at her.

"Do you truly think this of me? My value surely cannot be so great."

"Tears," Mercedes exclaimed as she raced up another two platforms. "Your glorious presence makes droplets of salt and affection build upon my lashes! How can such a wondrous being not see his worth? Never before have I felt as much as I do now."

Mercedes finally reached the top of the slide and she looked down to see Sam standing at the end of it. Feeling like she was leaping off a precipice, Mercedes watched him with a steady gaze. It felt like she was making a decision here; what could possibly be so significant about sliding down this slide and being in Sam's arms?

Nothing changed, and yet—everything was different.

Without hesitation, Mercedes slid down and Sam's hands on her hips caught her in her prone position on the plastic slide. His body was leaning over hers, his knees pressed against the edge of the slide. Their gazes locked together and Mercedes felt her breath catch as he let his forehead touch hers.

His soft hair lightly tickled her skin, but it made her smile.

"I didn't get to rescue you," Sam whispered—his green eyes full of dancing with so many emotions that Mercedes couldn't decipher them all. She cupped his face with the palms of her hands, and Sam nuzzled his face into the touch—turning his head to press a kiss to her skin.

"I'm a princess," Mercedes replied softly, "Not a damsel in distress." His eyes flashed in amusement as they settled back on hers. The grin that spread across Sam's face made her cheeks burn.

"Do you really think of me that way?" he asked.

"Yes," she responded, "Do you think of me that way?"

"Absolutely," Sam answered. He was still smiling when Mercedes lifted herself to place the softest of soft kisses on his lips. Sam responded with a soft exhale and a tender smile, before he gripped the sides of the slide and brought their mouths together in another kiss.

Their kisses were slow and so deep that Mercedes had shivers over her entire body. His tongue twined with hers in a sensual caress that had her letting out a soft moan. Sam had kissed her hard before. They had made out several times by this point, but there was something electric about this time.

Mercedes felt as though she was on a slow burn as her hands went from his jaw and to his hair. Her legs spread and Sam's hips fell perfectly in between hers. Their kisses were still slow, but they set everything on fire. She could feel his warmth as he rested more of his weight against her.

She gasped when he finally detached his mouth from hers and trailed kisses down the side of her jaw and neck. Sam sucked on that one mystery spot he'd found last weekend and Mercedes' eyes rolled.

She arched her back and moved her head to the side—needing and wanting more of his mouth on her skin. Sam sucked at her skin and nibbled his way down to her collarbone, before Mercedes tugged on his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers.

Their lip lock was faster this time—lips meshing together and pulling apart for quick breaths of air. Mercedes' body was tingling. What the hell was Sam's mouth doing to her? She'd never been so aroused before in her life.

Mercedes sucked on Sam's bottom lip as she moved one of her hands to his chest. Sam groaned and instinctually pressed his hips against hers. She let out a gasping moan when she felt him hard and hot against her—and there was nothing but clothing separating their lower body.

Sam's eyes snapped open, but Mercedes didn't let him move. "It's—okay," she said and Sam stared down at her. "It's okay." Sam waited a few more seconds and Mercedes was scared that he'd move away from her anyway. That was the last thing she wanted.

They had been together officially for two weeks, but they'd been 'dating' for almost a month now. And yeah, she was scared shitless, but she wanted him to touch her in some way. She wasn't quite ready for him to see anything just yet, or go that far, but she was a horny seventeen year old girl and she wanted some kind of contact.

Mercedes was relieved when Sam's lips caught hers in another hard kiss and their passion returned with a rush that almost drugged her. She was surprised when Sam's hands moved back to her waist and then he fucking lifted her off the slide.

She squeaked in fear—her legs automatically wrapping around his waist, but he held her steady as he turned them around and then Sam sat on the slide; Mercedes in his lap. She stared down at him in shock and Sam smirked at her, before he pulled her into another kiss.

This position really introduced Mercedes to how turned on Sam was and also how—ahem—large he was. She briefly wondered about how all that would fit if they had sex, but the thought practically burned her mind with lust. She shook it off and returned to the present.

Sam was making out with her now. She could worry about the logistics of sex later. The kiss heated up, and Sam's hands trailed up her sides over the fabric of her dress. It felt like he was burning her through the cloth and she leaned into his mouth even more.

She was putting her all into their kisses—giving back as much as she received from Sam. When Sam's hands drifted to the sides of her breasts, she moaned into his mouth and Sam's hips twitched under hers.

Mercedes, in a rush of bravery and arousal, removed her hands from Sam's hair and dragged Sam's hands all the way onto her chest. She almost died when his thumb brushed over the area where her nipples were pushing against the cup of her bra.

His hands felt like solid heat and her whole body was on fire. She'd never felt this kind of burn before—everything was hypersensitive and attuned to Sam's touch. She broke their kiss to gasp when he squeezed lightly and she pressed his hands harder to her.

Sam groaned and Mercedes shifted her hips at the sound. The sensations that tore through her put her in a daze. What was this feeling? She had never felt so powerless, yet powerful before.

Sam's lips pressed against her collarbone and Mercedes whimpered as his tongue traced circles across her bare skin. He cussed when she ground her hips against his and then he pulled back.

"Mercedes," Sam said—his voice was husky and reminiscent of a growl. The sound made heat pool in her center. "We have to stop."

"Sam," she practically whined. She wanted more—she needed more. Her body was straining for that point just beyond the horizon. She wasn't sure that she could wait until she was alone. She wanted Sam; just Sam, but maybe her mind was clouded.

"Babe," Sam replied as he cupped her face. Mercedes was taken aback by the dark green coloring of his eyes and the desire that was flashing through his expression. "I can't go home after doing this with you and expect my parents—I mean my dad and Lynn to not notice."

A weird look crossed Sam's face for a moment, but Mercedes couldn't focus enough to really question it. Her thoughts were clearing slowly, and Mercedes knew that he was right. Walking into her house after, getting her grind on with Sam was bound to draw her brothers' wrath to her boyfriend. Sucking in a deep breath, Mercedes nodded in agreement and she let Sam's hands slowly move from her chest.

They shared another slow kiss, being sure to keep it PG.

"Are you sure that this was okay?" Sam asked as Mercedes slid off his lap. "I don't want you to think that you have to do something that you're not ready for."

He looked so worried, but honestly—she was more than fine with what had just gone down. She blushed furiously, but she gave him a smile. "I promise that it wasn't too much," Mercedes replied. "I might not have been ready for the actual, well, you know."

Sam blushed too as he grabbed her hand in his. "But, I liked your hands on me. I won't be scared forever and I'm seventeen, Sam. My hormones are as crazy as yours are."

Sam grinned in reply. "A girl that admits she's horny?" he teased. "I got the woman of a lifetime."

"Damn straight you did," Mercedes said—rolling her eyes at the cheesy grin on his face. He looked sexy as hell though with his kiss swollen lips and his hair was a mess. They would definitely have to clean up in the car.

Mercedes put her shoes back on—both of them deciding that it was wise if Sam didn't help this time and Sam slid his chucks on too. He lifted the picnic basket and they walked hand-in-hand back to Lynn's car. The drive back to her house was silent, but it was comfortable.

Mercedes felt at home with Sam. There was no need for words.

Sam walked her to her front door after they'd double checked their appearances. He wrapped his arms around her waist and Mercedes returned the embrace with her arms around his neck. They stayed in the hug for a long minute—foreheads pressed together and staring into each other's eyes.

"You're beautiful," Sam said and Mercedes smiled at him.

"So are you, Blondie," she replied. Sam blushed lightly, but he grinned before pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

"Goodnight, Mercy-mine," he whispered against her mouth. Sam kissed her softly once more before stepping back. Mercedes' heart was in her throat. He made her feel so wonderful.

"Goodnight, Txe'lan."

Mercedes watched Sam walk away, before she turned to go inside her house—blowing him a kiss goodbye when he sat behind the wheel of the car.

World's greatest boyfriend: Samuel Evans.


May 27, 2011 (Saturday)

Lynn's House—Living Room

Lima, Ohio

10:34AM

His date with Mercedes had gone even better than he'd expected it to. It was bad that he'd had to take care of certain problems in the shower when he got home, but the memories of their kissing made things happen quickly.

Sam woke up at eight this morning, went for a run, and then he hit the gym with his dad. He felt energized and ready for the day ahead after he'd showered and got dressed in his work uniform.

He had to be at the Pizza Parlor by 11:30 and that left plenty of time for breakfast. It was nice to know that he only had two six-hour shifts left at that place.

Sam checked himself in the mirror—the black polo with the pizzeria logo on the breast pocket, the black dress pants and black leather belt with his red chucks. He looked decent enough. His slowly fading black-eye didn't help, but there was nothing he could do about it. Sam slid on his red hoody and grabbed his work hat off his dresser, before making his way out of his bedroom.

He hummed a song to himself as he walked downstairs. He rummaged around in the kitchen and grabbed a bagel, cream cheese, and pulled out the jug of orange juice from the fridge. While he toasted his bagel, he poured a glass of orange juice and he almost jumped when his little sister spoke his name.

"Sammy?"

He looked over his shoulder and smiled when he spotted her standing in the doorway—a bright grin on her face. "Hey Sunshine," Sam said as he turned back around to put the lid back on the container. Stacey walked over to him; her blonde waves falling over her shoulders.

She was wearing a pair of jeans with flowers printed up the sides and a light green t-shirt that made her blue eyes even bluer. Stacey wrapped her arms around his waist and Sam put his arm around her small shoulders as the toaster dinged.

Stacey rested her cheek against his side while he spread cream cheese on his whole wheat bagel.

"When are you going to sing on a stage again, Sammy?" she asked—peering up at him, a sad expression on her face. That look killed him inside.

"I don't know, Stace," he replied honestly, "but I promise that it'll happen as soon as I find a way."

Stacey sighed, but she nodded. Sam hated disappointing her.

"Are you going to work again?" she asked. "Besides Tuesday morning, I've barely seen you."

She looked so saddened by that and Sam felt guilt drop into his stomach. He had been spending a lot of time away from home. He had spent as much time as possible with Mercedes and then he'd been doing a lot of the website work with Artie and Mike. He'd been hanging out with his friends on a daily basis and with work, and going to visit Cede—he really had just kind of disappeared from their lives.

"Do you not like me anymore?" Stacey asked suddenly, her blue eyes wide as if the thought just occurred to her. Sam was taken aback by the question and he rushed to reassure her when her eyes filled with tears. "Did I do something to make you mad?"

"No!" Sam said as he dropped his bagel onto his plate. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off his side, so he could kneel in front of her. "I'm not mad at you and I love you, Sunshine. Nothing will ever stop me from loving you, even if I was ever mad at you."

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he said, "I know I haven't been around lately, and it wasn't your fault at all—I just got caught up in my own life and stopped thinking of you guys all the time. I promise to make it up to you."

He had forgotten how attached Stevie and Stacey had gotten to him. They went from seeing his face almost every day and every afternoon—to barely seeing him. Sam felt like the world's biggest asshole. He had gotten sucked into the whirlwind of friends and romance that he'd momentarily forgot that the twins needed him—they were used to his presence.

He'd be fixing that one.

"Are you gonna be home this afternoon?" Stacey asked—her eyes lighting up. "We can play a game of Candy land—"Sam was about to say yes, until he remembered Mercedes' party that night. One he'd already promised that he'd go to when she texted him that morning.

He bit his lip and said, "Stacey, I—"A frown took over her expression and she backed away from him.

"You're not going to be here, are you?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but Stacey shook her head. "Leave me alone, Sam," she told him, her eyes watering.

Sam stood up. "Stace—"

"No!" she yelled before she turned on her heel and ran out of the room.

"Damn it," he said under his breath. Good mood ruined. He picked up his plate and walked out of the kitchen; only stopping when he saw Lynn sitting in the middle of the living room, papers spread all around her, but she was staring at him—her eyebrows raised.

"What was that about?" she asked and Sam sighed as he walked around the side of the sofa and plopped down.

"Me being an ass," Sam replied. She gave him a sharp look for his language and Sam blushed. "Case in point, but sorry, Lynn."

Lynn smiled softly in response. "What happened, darlin'?"

"She's upset because I've barely been around them for the past week—and she has a good point. I guess I forgot how close we got while we lived in that motel room."

"Sam," Lynn said, "I understand why Stacey's upset, but you can't live your life inside a house. Making an effort to spend more time with them would be wonderful, but you wouldn't be happy if you went back to how you were."

"They're my family!" Sam protested, "They're the most important thing to me."

"As they should be," Lynn agreed, which deflated Sam's indignation, "but you were being a parental figure then, and sweetheart, your depression was written all over your face."

Sam didn't quite know what to think.

"Sam, you should be proud that you stepped up to the plate when they needed you to. Your dad is. I am too. But, you weren't any more prepared or ready to be a parent then than you are right now. That kind of responsibility is a heavy burden to anyone. You're a teenager—it's perfectly acceptable for you to be too selfish right now to be a good parent."

"I'm not selfish!"

"I didn't say it as an insult, but darlin', it's impossible to be able to go from teenager to parent in a matter of days. Parenthood is difficult enough after you've lived your life and made the conscious decision to start a family. You are eighteen years old, and I want you to be eighteen years old."

"I still feel bad about ditching them," Sam admitted.

Lynn laughed softly. "That's natural and it's going to feel like that for awhile, but don't ignore your life to try and fill that parental role again. Unless you can honestly tell me that you're ready to pay bills, calm tantrums, punish them, and give up your life for theirs without having a single regret—then go ahead."

Sam swallowed hard. In the middle of the situation, it was difficult to do all those things, but he did so out of love and honestly, because he had to. Becoming a father at eighteen wasn't a choice he would make without those circumstances.

It almost felt shameful to admit it, but at the same time, it was a relief to acknowledge his limitations. When Sam shook his head, Lynn nodded and gave him a look of amusement.

"I understand, darlin'," she replied and Sam shot her a weak smile. "You're just going to have to talk with Stacey. Let her know that you love her, and maybe show that handsome face of yours around the house more often?"

Sam blushed at the compliment, but he nodded. "I might come home early from Mercedes' party tonight then. It's about time I reminded Stacey who the Candy land champion was, anyway."

Lynn laughed and Sam eyed her as she started scribbling something on her notepad. "What are you doing?" he asked, before taking a bite of his bagel.

"I'm trying to find someone to perform during the opening event," Lynn replied, her voice sounding distracted. "But everyone is either booked or it's too late to reserve them because of short notice!" A tick of frustration made her tighten her jaw and Sam paused mid-bite.

"When you say performing, what do you mean?" he asked—a ridiculous idea forming in his head. Lynn kept clicking around on her laptop.

"Singing, dancing, spoken word, contortion," Lynn said, "I'd go for pretty much anything at this point." She stopped to give him a look. "This is why you shouldn't procrastinate!"

Sam grinned at her and she went back to her computer. There was a slim chance that it would happen, but what if he could get the Glee club to perform for Lynn's opening night? It would fulfill his promise to Stacey about seeing him sing on a stage and it would help Lynn out. It was worth a shot.

"What if the Glee club performed?" Sam questioned and Lynn froze. She turned towards him slowly and Sam shrugged sheepishly at the growing excitement on her face.

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" she exclaimed, "Do you think they would? It's two weeks away, so it'd be a bit of a time crunch, but that would be amazing if you could make it happen."

She talked as though the Glee club didn't do everything last minute. Sam almost laughed, but he kept his amusement wrapped up tight. "I don't know for sure, but it won't hurt to ask."

"Thank you, Sam!" she said, clapping her hands together. "Let me know when you find out."

Sam nodded and replied, "They're all going to Cede's party tonight, so I'll ask then."

Lynn beamed at him, before she turned back to her laptop. A frown crossed her face, and she said, "Don't you have to be at work by 11:30?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, "Why?"

"It's five after eleven," Lynn responded in amusement.

"Crap!" Sam said as he stood up. Lynn opened her arms, demanding a hug, and Sam gave her one, before he ran out of the room to put his empty plate in the sink.

"Did you have any fruit with that bagel?" Lynn called to him. Sam blanched for a moment.

"Uh, no," he answered and he could practically feel Lynn's glare through the wall.

"I don't think I have to tell you what to do, Sam," Lynn sing-songed from the living room. Sam laughed to himself but obeyed her unspoken order. He dashed out of the kitchen, already biting into an apple from the basket.

"Take my car!" she said and he nodded, grabbing her keys off the rack. "I still have to get your truck fixed."

"Thanks Lynn! Bye!"

"Bye, darlin'!"


May 27, 2011 (Saturday)

Breadstix

Lima, Ohio

12:22PM

"Before you sit down, Wheezy, I'm going to have to make myself clear," Santana drawled as soon as she and Quinn walked up to the table. Mercedes shot Santana a wry look, before flapping her hand in her direction. "I want the breadsticks," she said, "And I want them all. I played nice at your party, and now I want my reward."

Quinn looked exasperated and Tina snorted as she dropped into the booth and slid all the way over to the wall. Quinn followed her.

"Whatever, San," she told the girl, "You can have the breadsticks."

"All of the breadsticks?" Santana asked, her eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

"You can have all of Mercy's breadsticks," Quinn cut in as Mercedes plopped down on the cushioned bench and slid next to her. "You aren't touching my share."

The blonde shot Santana a sassy quirk of the lips that earned her an eye roll from the Latina.

"You needs all the breadsticks you can get, bean pole," Santana muttered.

"You aren't touchin' mine either," Tina said, "Mike always steals my share of the breadsticks when we come here, so I'm eating all of mine today!"

Quinn laughed at the serious look on Tina's face. Brittany bounced lightly in her seat next to Santana, before reaching out and putting her hand on top of the other girl's.

"Don't worry, Santana," Brittany said sweetly, "You can have all of my breadsticks and some of my soda."

"Thanks Britt-Britt," Santana replied—and was that a slight blush on her cheeks? Mercedes shared a knowing look with Quinn, who bit her lip to hide a smile. She wondered why those two didn't just admit that they were together—but she couldn't exactly speak up about that; she'd be a hypocrite of the highest caliber.

"I don't see how you manage to eat all of those breadsticks and not look more like Santa than Santana, anyway," Tina cracked and Mercedes almost died of sudden laughter. Quinn wasn't doing much better than her. Santana looked both surprised and offended. Tina was grinning.

"Oh, we get plenty of exercise," Brittany explained with a nod, "Sex burns a lot of calories—or that's what Santana told me."

Tina coughed and Mercedes' head was thrown back in laughter. Santana looked like she was about to pass out from embarrassment, and Quinn was crying.

"You done?" Santana asked snidely, once Mercedes managed to breathe properly again. "So now you guys know—Brittany and I get our lady kisses on. It doesn't mean that I'm lesbian." Mercedes was worried about the trepidation she heard in Santana's voice when she said that word. It wasn't like being attracted to girls was a bad thing. The self-hatred pouring off Santana's demeanor broke Mercedes' heart, but she obviously wasn't ready to say anything about it.

Mercedes tried to lighten the situation. "San, do you really think we'd care, even if you are?"

Santana's lip curled in response. "Finnocence and hobbit might have something to say—"

"Finn's brother is as gay as they come," Tina threw in—a deadpan expression on her face. "He would be an idiot to try and point fingers—"

"Can we please not talk about Kurt?" Quinn snapped, "He's a full grown idiot that deserves—"

"Rachel has two dads; she wouldn't have a leg to stand on," Mercedes spoke up before Quinn could get lost in her rage. She shot a pointed look at the blonde, who huffed in response. Mercedes turned her attention back to Santana. "We can all see how much you care for each other, and if you were together," Mercedes said, "there'd be nothing but happiness from my end."

Santana's expression was unreadable, but Mercedes let the topic drop when a waiter approached their table with a tray of breadsticks. The Latina's eyes lit up.

"Can you give us ours first, sir?" Tina said, "The breadstick-pirate over there will try to jack all my food if you don't."

The waiter looked taken aback, but he did as she asked. Santana looked pouty as Quinn and Tina pulled their breadsticks close and started munching immediately. Mercedes handed hers over to Santana at the same time as the waiter handed the girl her own plate. She looked like she was in heaven.

Brittany smiled when she got hers and she handed one to Mercedes, took another for herself, and then pushed the box over to Santana. The expression on Santana's face almost made Mercedes choke on her laughter as she ordered water for all of them.

"You guys just freaked the hell out of that poor waiter," Mercedes told them as soon as the waiter hurried away.

"She was going to steal my food," Tina protested around a bite of breadstick. Quinn didn't say anything but she looked like she agreed. Mercedes just laughed at them.

"Hey San, where's Rachel?" Mercedes asked after she finished her breadstick. The Latina rolled her eyes in response.

"The hobbit turned me down flat," Santana said, "Like I said she would. She said that she has ballet lessons all afternoon and that Breadstix doesn't have any vegan options that would satisfy her palate." The exasperated expression Santana shot Mercedes made her smile.

"It was nice that you invited her anyway," Mercedes responded and Santana flapped a hand at her.

"Yeah, yeah," she said.

Mercedes liked being here with all of them. She knew that Lauren was still at wrestling camp, but she would be back in two weeks. And it was sad that Rachel couldn't take one afternoon off her star-prep to be with them, but she wasn't going to let that ruin her day.

The waiter came back with waters for them all and another serving of breadsticks. Tina ordered a pasta dish. Quinn got their chicken parmesan. Mercedes got a seafood dish. Santana got a hamburger. Brittany ordered spaghetti with extra meatballs.

They handed their menus over and started talking before he even walked away. "So what's got Quinnie in a fit over Porcelain?" Santana asked, "Don't think I didn't notice the attitude you gave earlier."

Mercedes groaned as Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Kurt was being an ass hat," the blonde said and Tina stared.

"Quinn's cursing?" Santana asked, "Okay, now you've got to explain."

Mercedes glanced around the table, and when she saw the curious expression on even Brittany's face, she gave in. She spilled the whole story—even telling them what Kurt had said to her that made her cry. Tina's jaw dropped and Santana looked pissed.

She didn't quite know how to respond to the sudden friendship between her and Santana but she wasn't about to complain.

"We're cool, guys," Mercedes said, "I don't know if we'll ever be close again, but we'll be cordial." The admission nearly broke her heart, but as forgiving as she was—she'd never be able to forget the stab of his words and how much pain he'd caused her.

"Fuck that," Santana said. Everyone at the table stared at the girl. Santana looked like she was about to start pulling razors out of her hair again. "I will cut all of the hideous bags he owns into miniature vaginas if he even looks at you cross-eyed." Quinn choked on her sip of water.

There was a moment of stunned silence between them. The comment was made even worse because the poor guy serving them had just brought their food to the table. Their waiter looked like he'd been slapped, before Quinn, Tina, and Mercedes cracked up laughing. Tina's whole body was shaking from laughter. Mercedes' chest hurt as she leaned weakly against Quinn's shoulder.

Brittany was giggling and the poor waiter looked mortified as he placed the plates of food on the table. Mercedes had never seen a guy move away so fast. She started laughing again—tears of laughter filling her eyes. Santana was smirking when Quinn laid her head down on the table and giggled so hard that her entire body vibrated.

Mercedes felt winded when she finally regained the ability to breathe again. Her ribs hurt and she had to wipe tears from her cheeks.

"Vaginas, San?" Mercedes asked, before she snorted again.

"What?" Santana asked—her expression completely unrepentant. "There's no better way to horrify a gay man than to throw a vagina at him."

That set them all off once more, and Santana joined in. It took them ten minutes of giggles, snorts, and guffaws to calm themselves down. They started eating their food now that it was safe to attempt to swallow something again, and the conversation flowed easily between the five of them.

They definitely weren't short on laughter.

"I need to find my own thing," Tina said, "I love Mike and everything that his abs have to offer, but I definitely don't want to be the clingy girlfriend."

Santana expressed her agreement. "Unlike the hobbit—"

"Let's avoid Rachel talk," Quinn said, "I'd like to enjoy my meal."

"Why don't you take my dance class?" Brittany asked, slurping a long noodle into her mouth. Mercedes spotted the adoring expression Santana shot the girl, but she kept her observation to herself.

"You have a dance class?" Tina asked.

"Yeah," Brittany replied, "I teach there all the time during the school year. It's a hip hop class."

"I don't know," Tina said, "I'm not the best dancer—"

"Bullshit," Santana replied, "I've seen you gyrating for Twinkle-Toes during our performances. Some of that swag had to have rubbed off while you two were fornicating—"

"That doesn't mean I can hang in one of Brittany's dance classes—"

"I think you should all take my class," Brittany said. Four pairs of eyes focused on her in incredulity. She glanced at them all and shrugged. "What? We'll get to hang out more. I get to see Mercedes shake her jelly and Quinn's always been able to drop it like it's hot."

Mercedes snorted and Quinn elbowed her with a playful glare. "When is your class?" Mercedes asked and Santana answered.

"It's Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I'm joining next week."

Quinn accepted—she didn't have anything else anyway and she did miss dancing. Tina took a little more convincing, but she agreed in the end. Mercedes had always wanted to take a hip-hop class, but she'd never had the courage to do so.

In the end, she decided to join too. Brittany was ecstatic and the conversation continued right along from there.

"You said you didn't want to be the leech in the relationship, Tin-Tin," Santana said—Tina looked like she couldn't decide if the nickname was offensive or not, "but you never said if Twinkle Toes was treating you right."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean is this another Finchel relationship or an actually decent relationship where two people care about each other?"

"That was low, San."

"The truth hurts."

"Uh," Tina said, "We're great. He's a wonderful guy. Mike treats me like I'm a princess—"

Hearing princess threw Mercedes' mind back to her date with Sam last night and their little moment on the slide. She could feel her face getting warm just thinking about everything she felt—she was so involved in her thoughts that she zoned out until Quinn poked her in the side.

She snapped out of her memories to see the knowing look on Quinn's face. Blushing, Mercedes turned her attention back to Tina, but the look didn't slip past Santana.

"Pause," Santana declared over Tina's gushing, "Are you dating someone, Wheezy?"

"What?" Tina exclaimed.

"You are?" Brittany asked.

Quinn bit her lip and looked away from Mercedes' glare. Her face was on fire.

"You know who it is, Que, spill!" Santana said, but Quinn laughed. She shook her head. Mercedes wanted to smack her. She was far too entertained by this change of events.

"Oh, come on!"

"You can't keep something like this from your girls!"

"Quinn, tell us!"

"I'm not telling, you guys," Mercedes replied to their incessant pestering. She was exasperated after five minutes of begging and pleading. "I will say that he treats me right and he's sexy as hell."

"Damn straight, he treats you right," Santana said, "You're Wheezy and no one disrespects Wheezy."

"Except you, apparently," Tina said.

"You've got balls, Tin-Tin, but I don't count. Friends can say what they want. Wheezy knows I respect the swag she has."

"Can we please drop this subject now?" Mercedes asked and the girls refocused their attention on her.

"As long as you tell us who it is soon."

"Fine," Mercedes answered and Tina nodded.

The subject changed when Brittany suggested that they have another sleepover, but girls only this time. They debated about dates and times until the end of lunch.

All of the girls paid for their meals and walked out together in a big group—joking and laughing as they made their way out of the door. Hugs were given out and they all promised to see her later that night.

Santana was the last one to pull Mercedes into an embrace and she said, "You knows I got mad investigation skills, so I'm going to find out who's the lightning to my girl's chocolate thunder."

Mercedes moved away from Santana, an amused grin on her face and she winked at the girl.

"You can try."


Phew! This chapter took forever to write, but I hope it was worth it! REVIEW! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Until next time. :D