(Flashback)
"How is she adjusting Flora?" Mr. Evans says in a hushed voice.
"As well as to be expected I suppose Master Evans," she responds stirring a big pot of beans. "But then again it's only been a year."
Mr. Evans nods peeking around the corner to catch another glimpse of Delilah. She continues sweeping the kitchen before bending low to pick up the trash putting it in the bin. He watches her go over to a corner where his son and her daughter share a blanket. She sits on the blanket giving bright smiles to both children before singing them a happy tune, and soon the children are smiling too.
"She's real good with your boy" Flora compliments turning around to watch them too. "He doesn't even cry as much as he used too."
Mr. Evans nods still watching Delilah...and that's when he get's an idea. "Hey Flora,"
"Yes Mr. Evans?" Flora says with a knowing smile.
"Do you think you could teach Delilah how to serve?"
"Serve?"
"Yes, for me during my meal times."
She doesn't answer; he knows she can see his true intentions...he's trying to find a way to spend time with Delilah. Its strange but he hasn't felt this nervous for an answer since he was asking the late Mrs. Evans' parents for permission to wed their daughter. Its weird but in a way he's almost asking permission to court. But he's just looking to get to know her...I mean...he hasn't really had a conversation with her since the day he bought her. Everyday since then she's said no more than two or three words towards him; she just nods at his directions. He wants to find out more about her. Mr. Evans is practically holding his breath for Flora's answer...
"I suppose" is all she says; and those two words has Mr. Evans practically elated.
"Excellent...I expect to see her at dinner" he grins walking out of the kitchen.
He spends the rest of the day picking out an elaborate outfit. He ends up wearing his tuxedo with the coat tails, with matching cufflinks and bow tie. He's smoothing his hair down checking his reflection and when he feels like he's dashingly handsome enough for dinner, he makes his way to the small and intimate dinning room. He opens the sliding doors slowly and quietly watching her light the candles on the dinner table. This woman has him entranced...the way her full lips form an 'O' blowing out the sulfur match sending a long stream of smoke before shaking the stick. Now for Delilah I'm sure this was a quick and simple gesture, but for Mr. Evans...time slowed; and with each second that ticked away was another moment in which he took his time to admire her. Delilah sighs stepping back to look at the somewhat elaborate table. She smiles a little pleased with herself before bumping into the china cabinet causing one of the glasses to shake. She frantically stops the glass from moving and breathes a sigh of relief that it doesn't break. Mr. Evans tucks in a smile before clearing his throat. Delilah turns to look at him giving him a nod before taking in his appearance.
"Is someone else joining you Master Evans?"
He frowns at her question. "What makes you ask that?"
"I mean no disrespect, its just that-"
"Just that what?"
"Just that I only set the table for one."
Mr. Evans looks at the table before looking back at her skeptically. The medium sized table has been transformed into one of elegance. Delicate napkin patterns and fresh cut flowers surround the table. His setting alone is at least set for three courses. His chair is decorated with what looks like a sheet to cover it with an emerald green ribbon tying around the back center. Two long stem candles are lit bringing a cozy haze to the room. Her French background is clearly showing throughout the decorations; its all too elegant for just one person.
"This is all for one person?" Mr. Evans chuckles.
Delilah purses her lips inward and presses them hard to keep her mouth shut. Her stance shifts a little and anyone paying attention to her can tell that she took this as an insult. Mr. Evans smiles even bigger...so that rebellious spirit is still with her, she's just learning to control it better.
"I didn't mean to insult you" Mr. Evans begins, and he watches Delilah's expression change. "What I meant was that this table is fit for a King...it's very lovely but a little overdone for my liking."
She nods accepting the criticism. "I'll try and remember Master Evans...shall we start with the first course?"
In two months time Delilah has perfected the proper way Mr. Evans likes to be served. The lighting is kept somewhat low and a small bouquet of flowers is in a vase in front of him. A single one-course place setting is needed and after Delilah's finished plating his food she stands in a corner quietly waiting for him to finish. Mr. Evans begins eating but he can't help but notice Delilah sneaking stares at him...it's making him uncomfortable so he decides to ask.
"Is there something wrong?"
She jumps a little at the sound of his voice. "No, nothing sir."
He frowns. "Then why do you keep staring?"
"I wasn't staring sir" Delilah says.
"Yes you were, is something wrong?"
"No sir." She says a little frightened.
"Tell me what it is" he says a little louder.
"I was just wondering about your clothes!" She blurts out.
Mr. Evans pauses a minute thinking about her answer. "My clothes?"
"Yes!" She yells. "Every night you come down here wearing your most expensive clothes. You dress like you're going to a ball or somethin' and you just end up eatin' dinner before goin' to bed!"
Mr. Evans looks at her surprised.
"I'm sorry for shoutin' but I did tell you it was nothing" she breathes out, smiling. The first smile she's ever given him.
"You...don't like the way I dress?"
He sounds a little down...after all he was dressing up to impress her.
"Its just not...what's the word" she says thinking. "Practical?"
"Practical?" He repeats.
"Yeah, it's like this table...it was nice but it was too fancy for-"
"The occasion" he finishes.
"Right" she smiles again. "I mean it's just dinner for yourself...you should save those clothes for company."
Mr. Evans nods but inside he's practically doing backflips. "She smiled at me" he thinks.
"I'll take it into consideration" he adds.
Another month or two passes and things remain almost the same. The two have grown used to this new process, Mr. Evans is wearing a pair of pants and a loose fitting shirt that shows his broad shoulders and collarbone. The two are starting to become more relaxed as a sense of normalcy starts to develop. Mr. Evans enters the room to find Delilah humming some little tune as she works about the room. He enters in and slides the sliding doors to a close. Delilah freezes instantly.
"Why is the door shut?" She says starting to become a little frightened. She doesn't even look at him in fear that she's about to relive one of her worst nightmares...
"I thought it would be nice to-" Mr. Evans begins but she interrupts.
"Please open it."
The tone in her voice is clearly a command. She turns her head to look at him and her eyes are pleading with him to do this simple gesture. He slides the doors open and he can clearly see the instant relief come over her; her breathing has returned to normal a little.
"Thank you" she says walking to her little corner.
He nods preparing to take his seat. He's not sure what exactly just happened but he decides not to push it tonight. After he sits down she sets a bowl of soup in front of him. Her arm is fairly close to his lips, but before Mr. Evans can even think about doing anything she pulls it back gently. He looks up at her and she gives him a very small smile before returning to her spot.
"Delilah?"
She looks at him.
"I was only closing the door, so that I could talk to you."
"About what Master Evans?"
"Anything I suppose" he shrugs. "I mean, we spend mealtimes with each other but we don't talk. We don't know much about each other-"
"That's because you're eating sir" she answers innocently causing Mr. Evans to smile a little.
"Yes I know" he chuckles. "But we can still make conversation."
This isn't at all what she was expecting. I mean, never in her life has an owner ever wanted to talk to her, like regular people. I mean when her last master, Monsieur DieuPont had his teenage daughter they would talk about things, or Delilah would more or less listen to her go on and on about what she was studying or if there was a party coming up but other than that no one ever wanted to talk to her.
"Conversation?" She repeats skeptical.
He shrugs giving her a warm smile. "For instance, anything happen with my boy Sam today?"
Delilah frowns thinking. "Not really sir; he woke up and I fed him. He played and walked around a little, fell asleep and then had his dinner..."
Okay...this is not how Mr. Evans wanted to spend their first conversation. I mean he loved talking about Sam, but at this rate it would be forever before they would talk about more personal things.
"Master Evans, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Why do you want to talk to me?" She says almost with a laugh.
"Excuse me?"
"Like what would we even talk about? And why would you want to talk to me? I'm a slave...what could you possibly say that would have interest to me-"
Mr. Evans eyes widen a little picking up on the slight insult.
"I mean, we're from two completely different worlds...are you trying to find out what my life is like to get information? Like I don't understand what you could gain from talking to me."
"I like you" he says honestly. She looks at him suspiciously causing Mr. Evans to chuckle.
"May I close the door?" She asks quietly.
"Of course" he beams at her enjoying his soup.
She gives a nod sliding the doors close with ease turning around placing a hand on her hip. "May I speak somewhat freely?"
Mr. Evans nods almost excited to hear her response.
"You can't like me" she says blunt.
"Why not?"
"Because it isn't right" she says quick.
"But not unheard of" he adds just as fast.
"Well I know it happens all of the time but...but-"
"But what?"
"Why am I goin' on like this?" She laughs a little. "I mean, when you say you like me you don't have to necessarily mean that..." she trails off raising her eyebrows and waving her hands insinuating something more.
Mr. Evans gives her a devilish smile. "But I do, in that sense as well...in case you were wondering."
"You should go to the church right now and repent" she chastises taking away his unfinished soup bowl as Mr. Evans gives a hearty laugh.
"And you see? That's why I like you" he grins. "You're so...so..."
"So what?" She asks forgetting her place; she can't help it...he makes her impatiently curious.
"Spirited. Rebellious even...you have personality. You have something most people around here seemed to have lost...gumption."
"Well its not like us slaves have a lot of opportunity to show...what was the word you used? Gumption?" She says freely.
"But its not just slaves Delilah, even the women in society don't have a quarter the spunk you do. They all are the same...boring...doll-like. Sit in a corner only to be admired. Too fragile and weak to endure half a days work."
She looks at him still frowning. "So where does that leave us?"
"Well...that all depends on you" he says getting up from the table to fix his own plate of steak and potatoes.
"You mean..."
"Yes. You have a choice," he begins with his back turned to her. "You don't have to worry about me forcing myself on you...after all you are a woman." He turns around to make his statement very clear. "And I am a gentleman."
He turns back around continuing to load up his plate. "Although, if you were to refuse me I won't deny that my ego would be a tad bit wounded. After all...it is me."
"And what does that have to do with the price of beans?" Delilah adds with attitude.
"Well lady," he says turning back around to sit down at the table. "It means I own those beans, which pretty much means I could give you just about anything-"
"Let's get one thing straight Mr. Evans" she begins sternly. "You might be able to buy my body, but I have to give you my heart."
Mr. Evans stares at her a long time before giving her his truest smile. "Then I'll wait."
"My Dearest Sam," Mercedes says out loud. "No...To my heart's soulmate...no...My one true love- No!"
She crumples the paper getting completely frustrated with herself. A solid knock comes to her bedroom door.
"Mercedes?"
Its Mr. Evans. He pops the door open slightly poking his head in. "You missed lunch...you feelin' alright?"
She nods frustrated. "I'm trying to write this letter to Sam...but so much time has passed and so much has happened I'm not sure where to start."
Mr. Evans twists his mouth. "Start at the beginning."
"Of this year?" She asks.
"No. Think about what it was about him that made you love him. Go back to that time and start from there" Mr. Evans says. "But whatever you write make sure it comes from your heart. Also, make sure you show for dinner; it isn't good to skip meals and I don't remember seeing you at breakfast either."
Mercedes nods as Mr. Evans leaves. She's thinking about when she really knew she was in love with Sam Evans. That's got to be difficult... I mean ever since she was little Sam was always there; her love for him just seemed to grow over time. But I guess she would have to say she was officially in love with Sam when they were about fourteen or fifteen years old...back on the plantation...
(FLASHBACK)
"Can Mercy come with us?" Sam asks Delilah as they both are in the kitchen. Sam can't see her, because his back is to her but Mercedes is shaking her head no rapidly, giving signs to her mother to make up an excuse as to why she can't go play.
"Uh..." Delilah begins.
"I think Mama needs my help in the kitchen? Right mama?" Mercedes says grabbing the nearest broom pretending to sweep.
"Why?" Sam whines. "Everyone else is in here, they could let you go. Besides we're gonna play hide-n-seek!"
"I was gonna practice my napkin folding...y'know...for the next party?"
Sam gives Mercedes this weird look. "Napkin folding? You'd rather fold napkins than play outside?"
Sam frowns even more...she's lying. Mercedes hates folding napkins...plus she loves hide-n-seek, she's one of the best players he knows. He grabs her hand pulling her over to a nearby broom closet.
"I know Del, she'd let you go if you wanted too...so...do you not want to play with me?"
"It's not you, Master Sam...its everyone else" she groans. "Things go better when I'm not there."
"What things?" Sam says completely lost.
As far as he knows everything is perfect when they play together...Mercedes is so much fun to be around. But then he starts thinking...
"Merce, does something happen when I'm not there?"
"Its nothing I can't handle" Mercedes says quietly. "It's just easier if I stay away. You can play with me when it's just the two of us."
The question finally pops into his head. "Do my friends make fun of you when I'm not there?"
Mercedes tries to find a way to answer, but her constant stuttering clearly tells him that they do.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam says sounding angry.
"What am I supposed to say?" Mercedes half laughs. "Quinn and Davy tease me because I always win when we play games? Like its my fault they run so slow...maybe if Davy didn't eat so much he could run a little faster. And if Quinn wasn't so afraid to get dirty she wouldn't be so easy to find."
Sam grins from ear to ear. "What if I promise they won't make fun this time?"
Mercedes gives him a look.
"I'm serious Merce, they won't make fun. So will you please come out and play?"
"That's a lot of trouble to go through for 'your lil slave girl'" She mocks sounding exactly like Quinn Fabray.
"You're more to me than a lil slave girl." This sentence catches both of them off guard; Mercedes because she wasn't expecting to hear it and Sam because he wasn't expecting to admit that much aloud. "What I mean is," he says trying to recover. "You're my friend."
Mercedes sighs deeply...she really wants to go but she knows with all her heart that these playdates never end well.
"Please?" Sam pouts. "Please! Please! Please!"
He gives her the cutest puppy dog pout before doing an impression of a fat Dave Karofsky who's completely out of breath. In minutes its got both teenagers laughing and Mercedes agreeing to go.
When the two teens get outside Dave Karofsky, Quinn Fabray and a new local boy who just moved into town is playing with them.
"Look it!" Quinn shouts excited. "Sam brought his lil slave girl!"
Mercedes gives Sam a look that clearly says "Told Ya" and Sam takes this opportunity to address the group.
"Hey, listen up" Sam starts changing his tone. "Her name is Mercedes, and she's going to play with us okay?"
None of the kids say anything, and Sam's smirk to Mercedes says "See, everything is gonna be fine."
Mercedes rolls her eyes as if to say "Uh-huh, sure it is" before she takes off running.
The kids play together for a little bit and everything seems to be going smoothly until Mercedes and Dave get into an argument over by the big oak tree.
"That nigger is it!" Dave shouts victoriously. "I got her fair and square!"
"You didn't! I was on base before you could even catch me!"
"I got you!"
"But I was on base" she protests.
"Are you callin' me a liar?" Dave asks glaring at her.
"I wasn't calling you anything" Mercedes says.
"That's not the way I heard it" Quinn says prancing to where they are.
"You believe she has a nerve to call me a liar" Dave laughs amused. "Does she even realize what I could make happen to her?"
"I didn't call you anything!" Mercedes shouts becoming upset.
"Oooo" Quinn sneers. "I think we're making her upset. The ugly lil slave girl"
"She can't do nothin'" Dave laughs going over and pushing her down to the ground. "See?" He laughs.
"Stop it" Mercedes says trying to get up but Dave knocks her back down.
"No, you're gonna stay down there" he taunts. "And don't even think about getting up or I'll push you down again."
Mercedes is beginning to weep silently...and that's when Sam in all his bravery comes out of nowhere to rescue her. He spins Dave around before sending him stumbling to the ground by the power of his fist. He straddles Dave hitting him again, and again causing blood to practically sprout from his nose and mouth. Sam grabs him by the shirt collar forcing him to look at him.
"If I ever hear you talk to her, or one of my slaves like that again" Sam threatens. "I swear to God, it will be the biggest regret of your life."
"But Sam I-"
"Shut up!" Sam yells shaking him a little. "Now...you owe her an apology-"
"I ain't apologizing to no dumb-"
Sam hits him square in the mouth again mid-sentence. "I said apologize" Sam orders turning him to face Mercedes who's still on the ground with a wide stare at what's just occurred.
"I'm s-sorry" Dave says through gritted teeth.
"Mercedes" Sam adds tightening his hold around his shirt collar. "Say her name."
Dave gives him a hate-filled glare. "Mercedes."
Sam lets him go getting off of him before going over to help Mercedes to her feet. He continues to hold her hand practically dragging her back to the house because he's so upset. He just wants to get the two of them back to safety. Mercedes makes them stop at the pump and she begins priming it before ice cold water flows out. She rips a piece of her dress and dips it into the water ringing it out so she can wash Sam's hand of Karaofsky's blood. Sam lets her silently checking her out to make sure she isn't hurt. She's got some dirt stains from where Dave pushed her down, but nothing too serious. As soon as his hands are cleaned he grabs her face wiping her tears away for the first time in their lives. She gives him a flustered smile before shaking him off.
"You wanna go to the outer fields?" She asks trying to lighten the mood.
"Last one there is a rotten egg!" He grins running off with her following closely behind.
(END OF FLASHBACK)
Mercedes begins writing and her words flow out like the water from the pump back home.
Back on the Evans Plantation...
"What's got you so happy?" Noah says entering the room holding his baby girl.
"This letter" Sam grins looking over the words again. "Its from Mercedes."
A/N: alright, so i was about to change what i wrote in the previous chapter because it strayed away from what i originally intended, but then i got caught up into writing a backstory about Delilah and Mr. Evans. like idk how it's all gonna tie together, you as the reader and me as the writer will just have to wait and see how it unfolds.
you guys know the drill, if i decide i don't like it i'll take it down and try again and just ask you in the next part to forget what you read lol
as far as this chapter...idk where my writing was taking me...like idk how important Delilah and Mr. Evans flashbacks are going to be to this story...but the SAMCEDES ones are important...i think that's where i'm going to give you guys the much needed fluff.
sorry for the cliff hanger...but this gave me a way to bring focus on Sam and Puck and the people back home...i'll probably explain why Puck has a daughter and what's going on with them (Quinn, May, Sam, Puck, etc.). i've been semi-struggling with how to write what's been going on at the plantation but i'll figure it out eventually lol
alright, i apologize if what i wrote was too heavy...if it is let me know and i won't put any more stuff like that and just allude to it...i don't want to make you guys feel "uncomfortable" reading this story; believe me when i say that i do care about what you guys have to say.
alright... i think that's about it...
much love...pce!