Chapter 46

Certainly not the hole in the wall she'd been expecting, but nothing like the more upscale establishments she'd visited since moving to Ohio. The Groove Room was small, dark, filled with stale air. The two brightest spots in the place were the stage that was flooded with lights, and the bar which was just as well lit. Everywhere else was dark, left to rely solely on small battery operated candles on each table.

The place was packed. Apparently Thursdays were their big night when they showcased a variety of local bands. Finn filled her in on this leaning close to her ear so she could hear him over the loud music. They weren't able to get a table alone, so they joined another couple at a tiny round table near the front of the stage. Other not so lucky patrons were forced to stand or lean wherever they could fit. This wasn't the type of place where people danced, more like they nodded their collective heads to the beat, so there was no dance floor to alleviate the packed feeling of the club. Mercedes quickly grew hot, despite her strapless top and had taken to fanning herself with a flyer she found on the table. Finn on the other hand seemed perfectly at ease, looking cool and comfortable even with people constantly bumping into his long legs he had extended away from the table.

Leaning in close to Mercedes, one arm casually draped behind her on the back of her chair, the other hand drumming out the beat on his thigh, he talked to her, pointing out people and explaining particular bands, as if they were in a quiet room and the music wasn't almost drowning him out. Finn simply adjusted his volume and moved closer, his minty warm breath and slightly stubbled cheek tickling her ear. It was all so familiar which surprised Mercedes, usually she was more guarded around new people. Not that Finn was particularly new he was Kurt's brother and she had seen him hanging around campus or tagging along with Kurt for almost a year, but never had she imagined spending so much time alone with him and actually enjoying it.

Finn had a great smile, which he used often, flashing his dimples not to seduce, but simply because they were a feature on his face. He was so straightforward, no pretense, what you saw was what you got. Sure there was more lurking behind his brown eyes, but Mercedes could tell that whatever she would find there wouldn't be threatening or painful, just another layer to an uncomplicated guy.

Uncomplicated now that was word she hadn't used much in her life. Everything was complex in her world. Even being out at the club tonight was fraught with potential complications. She was married, out with another man, which could be construed as cheating by some, but her husband didn't care about her, so fidelity probably didn't even matter. And since she was clearly a fool, she was planning a party for said uncaring husband and was even going so far as to scope out a band for the event that she was pretty sure he would love. Why did she even care? A cupcake and a candle was all Sam deserved, maybe a few bars of happy birthday, but that's it. A light touch on her bare shoulder caught her attention.

"I like this." His fingers skimmed her shoulder again. "This top. You look cute." Close but this time he wasn't against her ear, almost nose to nose, she was forced to truly look at the man she was spending her night with.

A man that wasn't Sam.

What the hell was she doing?

Bolting from her seat, pulling her coat on as she fled, bumping into people too drunk to care, she escaped out of the front door.

"Mercedes wait up." He called from behind her as she rushed out of the warm and stuffy club into the frigidly cold night.

"I just need some air Finn. Go back inside," she said without looking back. Where she was heading she didn't know. It wasn't like she had a key to Finn's car and everything else in the area was closed since it was after eleven. Mercedes looked around the crowded parking lot, slowing her pace when she realized there was nowhere for her to go.

"I'm not leaving you out here by yourself. Who knows what kinds of crazies are lurking about?"

She turned to face him and instantly wished he hadn't. Tall with long legs, over half his body seemed to be legs, short dark curls that almost begged to be touched, and those dimples, appearing on his face even when he wasn't smiling, Finn was cute, and she hated that she had noticed.

"The same crazies that are inside bobbing their heads to that Taylor Swift cover band."

"Well they are the best Taylor Swift cover band in the state."

"There's more than one?" she asked walking over to the curb alongside the club and taking a seat.

"Well yeah. There's the Swiftees that do her stuff reggae style. There's Tay-Tay that have sort of a hip-hop electronic fusion thing going on and the…"

"Finn you know way too much about all of this. Are you secretly a fan of Ms. Swift?"

Finn sat beside her, stretching his long legs out in front of him, his black boots and dark jeans almost blending in with the parking lot. "Not really, she has some good lyrics, but it's because of Blaine."

"Blaine? Kurt's Blaine?"

"That would be him. His band is on the same club circuit with a lot of these guys. Hanging out with Kurt I got to hear a lot of music."

"Wait a minute. Is Blaine's band the 'Oh Mandees'?"

He looked at her like she had grown a second set of arms. "Yeah. I thought you knew that."

"No I did not." Though she probably should have, she didn't seem to know much these days that wasn't related to Beth or Sam. "Is that why Kurt bailed on coming out here with me tonight?"

"He had to work." She shot Finn a look. "Yeah he wasn't too excited about seeing Blaine again."

"Then why did he recommend his band?"

"Kurt claims he can keep business separate from his personal life, and just because Blaine is cheating lowlife preppy trash doesn't mean his band sucks," Finn said in what was a fairly good impression of Kurt. They might have only been brothers for five years but they acted like they'd known each other all their lives.

"That's pretty mature of him. I don't think I could be so professional." Mercedes couldn't even act like a nurse without molesting Sam. She officially had no boundaries when it came to him and she hated it.

"What are you talking about?" asked Finn, his eyes growing dramatically large. "You're doing that right now. I've never seen someone face adversity with such grace."

"Does throwing in the towel count as grace? Because I'm this close," she indicated the amount with her two fingers, "to divorcing his ass."

"Bull shit. You might be upset with him right now, but you're not leaving Sam. Maybe if your fingers were this close." He held his fingers in an even smaller increment than she had as an example. "Then maybe I would have bought it."

"I'm really not in the mood for another motivational speech about how I shouldn't give up on a husband that hates me."

Hearing Puck go on about that topic was mind bending enough. For months, no make that years, Puck had been the top dissenting voice in her life against everything Sam. Practically from the moment Puck found out Mercedes liked Sam, he was stepping in and warning her against it. Only after countless tearful conversations and a whole lot of begging did Puck even agree to be a part of the wedding. And even after that she knew he kept a watchful eye on Sam. Now tonight he suddenly was telling her to fight for her marriage? It didn't make sense.

"You'll get none of that from me not tonight. In fact I'm declaring this night a Sam free zone," he said excitedly jumping to his feet.

"Isn't that sort of impossible since the whole reason we're here is to listen to a band for Sam's party?" she asked as she stood up too.

Though a Sam free night sounded nice especially when she knew he wasn't losing any sleep over her. If there were truly a way for her to pull it off she'd welcome it.

"Nothing's impossible when we use our imagination," said Finn rubbing his hands together. "If Sam can set his clock back to 2011 then we can easily forget about him for a few hours."

Mercedes pouted. "My imagination is broken. I haven't been able to stop thinking about him since I met him."

He grasped her shoulders and turned her toward him, bending at the knees to look her in the eyes. "Girl, please, we can do this. I'm putting a ban on all S words period. No more talk about Sugar or Sam. Agreed?"

Mercedes walked slowly along the curb, balancing on the edge like a gymnast on a beam. "Let's not be hasty. There might be some words we need that begin with S."

"Oh yeah like SEX."

"No fool, like STOP," she said rolling her eyes upward.

He smirked. "Eh. I don't think we'll need that one unless you're putting the word DON'T in front of it."

"Okay S free night in effect. But what are we going to talk about now?"

"Favorite color?"

"Purple. Yours?"

"Blue." She took the hand he offered and let him pull her along. "Wanna head back inside?" he asked as he raised their still joined hands high and twirled her like she was on Dancing With the Stars. "Blaine's band is on next."

"Are they any good?" Their arms dropped to their sides but Finn still hadn't let go of her hand.

"If you like that kind of thing. They have a good following, always booked. It might be hard to get them last minute though."

"I'm not worried about that. Anything is possible for the right price." That was one lesson she learned at a very young age.

"I don't know about that. Not everyone is ruled by the dollar."

Mercedes shook her head, Finn was so idealistic. It was like he didn't know that the majority of people were greedy and selfish. And the rest were desperate, struggling to survive.

"Those people must not need to eat."

Finn let go of her hand to rub his stomach. "Thought we agreed not to mention food because a certain person forgot to bring the guacamole."

It was all Puck's fault. If he hadn't distracted her with all that out of character stay with Sam talk, she never would have forgotten it.

"And then later we agreed to no longer bring up I forgot it."

"My growling belly is making it so hard." He patted his stomach for emphasis. "I'm feeling too weak to go on," he said staggering away from her dramatically.

"I'll grab you a handful of nuts," Mercedes stifled a laugh as she opened the door to the club, the hot air hitting her in the face. She looked over her shoulder at Finn who looked like a zombie having convulsions in the parking lot. This boy was a mess. "Are you coming or not?" she called out, holding the door open.

With a huge grin on his face Finn jogged over to her and reached over her head to grab the door, ushering her in with a wave of his hand.

Sam sat on the bed of their hotel room taking in the surroundings. It was a junior suite, the presidential suite was booked, pharmaceutical convention in town, so they were stuck in this mediocre room. There wasn't even a mini bar, just a small sofa and a huge king size bed. Sam ran his hands over the quilted golden bedspread, turning up his nose, synthetic, not at all what he was used to, but he guessed things could have been worse. Mike could have dropped them off in one of those places that advertised free cable on a giant marquee out front. Truth be told, Sam would have been happy on a cot at the Y, as long as he got to be with Quinn. Felt like he'd been waiting forever for this moment to arrive, and now it finally was here. He and Quinn together, a night completely to themselves. Quinn had retreated to the bathroom almost immediately when they had arrived in the room, taking the bag Figgins had packed with her inside. He could hear the water from the shower now, and the faint sounds of her singing, beautiful even when muffled by the door and the falling water.

This was really happening. Tomorrow Quinn would be back in Lima where she belonged. It almost didn't matter how much it took to get her out, just hearing her singing in the shower, made it all worthwhile. She seemed happier already. Sam rolled up his sleeves, trying to get more comfortable. In his rush to make sure Quinn had all she needed, he had forgotten to request Figgins pack him a bag of his own. A part of him hadn't wanted to seem too presumptuous. He honestly had intended for Quinn to stay at his suite at the Beacon on her own, he wasn't trying to make any moves on her or be that forward. Now he was being as forward as a man could get without making an outright solicitation, he had stranded them in the middle of Ohio for the night.

The clock read 1:30 and Sam mentally counted how much longer he would have with Quinn. Daley was supposed to come and pick them up around 3pm tomorrow. That didn't give them much time to talk. Hopefully sleep wasn't on the menu for either of them and they could spend every minute just being with each other. Sam smiled as he imagined what the rest of the night could bring. The shower was still going full blast, so Sam leaned back on the bed, relaxing into the pile of pillows, looking over at the clock again, 1:35.

He had been stalling, but it was getting very close to do or die time. Kali had been right, though he would never admit that to her, he needed to call Mercedes and tell her Quinn was coming back with him. With a heavy sigh he pulled out the balled up piece of paper from his pants pocket, smoothing it out with his hand as he reached for the phone.

"Hello," she screamed in his ear. Noise, maybe music, blared through the phone.

"Mercedes?" Sam asked, thinking he might have dialed the wrong number.

"Who is this?" the voice on the other end asked loudly.

"Sam." He raised his voice, matching hers, in the hopes that she could actually hear him. The sounds coming through the phone was deafening.

"Who? Hold on a sec." Sam heard a rustling, like she had put the phone down, all the noise from before was suddenly muted. "Excuse me, could you move please?" He heard her say somewhat in the distance. He was about to hang up, fearing he'd caught her at a bad time, though at 2am, she shouldn't be doing anything other than sleeping. "Yeah. Hello?" she said in a normal voice, the background sounds completely gone.

"Hello Mercedes." Sam's hand was starting to shake and he wasn't sure why. It was just a simple phone call, but something was telling him that Mercedes wouldn't take the news about Quinn too well.

"Sam?" she asked. He could hear the surprise in her voice. Regret hit him like a wave, she was going to get the wrong idea about why he called. She'd think it meant something more.

"Yeah I said that already," he said trying to sound low key.

"Sorry I couldn't hear. It was loud in there. What do you want?"

Sam couldn't quite believe it. She almost seemed annoyed he had called her. "Excuse me?"

"I mean why are you calling me?" she asked attempting to cover her abruptness from minutes before.

"It's almost 2 in the morning. Where are you?" She obviously wasn't home, with his child, where she should be. Suspicions were starting to build.

"I'm out with a friend. Where are you?"

"What friend?" he asked ignoring her question. Sam didn't know much about Mercedes, but the little he had observed, never had he seen her going out with friends. As far as he knew her friends were his family, Puck and Kurt.

Mercedes exhaled loudly into the phone. "Sam, why are you calling?"

"I wanted to know how my daughter was," he said his entire body filling with tension. She was being evasive and dismissive, the hallmarks of being caught in the act.

"So you called me? Why not call the house, talk to Marcel?"

"It's late Beth is usually with you at night." Sam was stunned, she had always seemed so attentive to his baby, now it was like she didn't even care that Beth was somewhere without her.

"She's with Puck tonight. Why don't you try calling him?" Puck? He was in on this with her too?

"I don't appreciate my child being passed around so you can go out at all hours of the night."

"I haven't been out in a year, don't act like I'm neglecting Beth." She was getting snippy. "Yeah last call is at 2:30 you better hurry."

He pulled the phone from his ear, staring at, not fully believing what he had just heard. "What did you just say?"

"Sorry someone asked me a question."

"Are you at a bar?" he asked gripping the phone in his hand. She had a child at home and she was out partying? It wasn't even the weekend.

"Sam what is it you wanted really?"

His head was starting to hurt. He swallowed all the things he really wanted to say to her and counted to three in his mind. He had only called to tell her about Quinn anyway.

"I wanted to let you know that I wouldn't be back tonight."

"Are you still up there with Quinn?" she asked her voice noticeably weaker in his ear.

"No we stopped. It was getting late."

"That's a good idea, don't want to drive tired." Mercedes was speaking so low Sam had to strain to hear her.

"Right." He urged himself to bring Quinn up, mentally trying to force his tongue to form the words.

"Thanks for letting me know."

She sounded sad and Sam could see the expression she probably had on her face in his head. That look of longing, as if she were waiting for him to give her something more.

"I didn't want you to worry." That wasn't what he wanted to say.

"You think I sit up all night worrying about you?" she asked trying to mask the sadness, but he could still hear it in her voice.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Sam kicked off his shoes and spread out on one side of the bed, putting his arm behind his head.

"Yeah I do."

"I know you sit up all night worrying about me. You also come in my room and check on me sometimes."

He'd noticed her come into his room a few times, always really late, closer to morning than night, she'd watch him from the doorway first, always hesitant, as if she were deciding whether to come inside. Then she walked quietly toward him, wearing something too short and revealing, pausing every few steps to determine if he were truly asleep. Sam would watch her through the fringe of his eyelashes, trying to keep his breathing steady to mimic sleep. He wasn't sure why he never let her know he was awake, he supposed it was because he wanted to see what she was up to, figure her out. Of all the mysteries in his life, she was the biggest. Every truth he learned about her was quickly overturned or contradicted, leaving him at a loss about what to believe. The more he learned the less he knew when it came to his wife. Her late night visits were just another chance for him to piece together the puzzle of their relationship.

Mercedes never did much when she visited, watched him sleep from her spot at the foot of his bed most nights, sometimes she'd cry, so softly that if it weren't for the streaks of tears on her face he would almost think he was making it up in his mind. A few times she had been bolder, reaching out and touching him, a hand on his leg, a stroke down his arm, her fingers through his hair. Then she'd leave, as quietly as she came.

"How would you know that? You're supposed to be asleep."

"I'm good at playing possum."

"You must think I'm a total wackjob, lurking about, watching you." She laughed, low, almost forced.

"I don't think you're a wackjob, I just think…" He was saying too much, he couldn't go down this road with her. It felt like he was leading her on.

"What?" she asked sounding a bit breathless.

"Nothing."

"Tell me Sam," she urged. He could hear the insistence in her voice, for some reason what he was holding back was important to her.

"I just think you care, maybe a little too much."

Silence. He wished he hadn't said anything, if only he could take it back.

"I can't shut it off you know. I do care about you, it didn't change because you hate me now."

Sam could hear the tears in her voice and he wanted to hit himself. He knew this was going to happen. He could never say anything without hurting her somehow. Damn Kali, for giving him the phone number, and setting him up to spend the whole night feeling badly that Mercedes was off somewhere upset.

"Would you stop saying I hate you? You know I don't," he said softening a bit, hoping it would soothe her.

"Then why did you smash all of our pictures?" she asked sniffling in his ear.

He ran his hand down his face. "God, Mercedes I'm not getting into this with you now."

They'd spent the whole day together with Beth. Breakfast in the kitchen, Beth had her first taste of creamed sweet potatoes, and he had been the one to give it to her. Mercedes at his right, smiling at the two of them, a plate full of fruit in front of her, she'd fed him grapes and wiped Beth's chin, so natural, as if they done it a hundred times before. Later, he'd found them playing on the floor, his daughter's little laugh gave him an indiscernible feeling of joy, Beth had giggled and moved so much as Mercedes played with her hands and feet, Sam couldn't believe that this was his life, he was a father. She had placed Beth in his lap, just before rushing off to somewhere. She always rushed off, a fluttery blur of hair and teeth. Like a breeze through his hair, she swept in and kissed Beth's head and then kissed Sam's lips. It was brief, it was nothing, and it hadn't felt wrong at the time. Not until later when he was in the living room alone, finally noticing he was surrounded by pictures, of them, together, looking so happy.

Wedding pictures, couple pictures, even some with his dad, Mercedes was all over the room, smiles plastered behind glass. It all seemed so fake, a loving act put on display. She may have fooled his whole family, but she wasn't going to pull him in so easily. All those looks of love, kisses for no reason, smiles and bright eyes, none of it was real, there was another man, through it all she wanted someone else. That burned him, the knowledge that her betrayal had gone so long unchecked. Here he was being forced to accept this life, to commit to nine more months of her duplicity, while Quinn sat somewhere miserable and alone. It wasn't right. So he threw a glass at the photo on the end table, hitting it dead center, shattering the glass, then with his arm he knocked the others from the mantle, shards on the floor, obscuring her smile, slicing through the pictures, it all made him feel good. He wanted to wipe those smiles away, the smiles she wished she were giving to some other guy. A few frenzied minutes later, there was glass around his feet, and the hypocrisy of those supposedly happy photos removed. Sam had sipped his drink slowly in satisfaction.

"Fine I'll just keep on thinking you hate me then."

He could hear her pout through the phone.

"You do that. You're such a brat did you know that?"

"I've been told I could use a good spanking."

"I would take you over my knee right now, if you were here."

"I'd like to see you try."

Sam smirked. "I know how to handle a girl like you."

"I thought you lost your memory."

"Some things are instinctive. I haven't lost my touch with women."

"I'm not your typical woman, your tricks won't work on me."

"I think you and I both know that's not true. That night we spent together at the hospital, I worked you very well." He closed his eyes as he pictured one particular moment from that night, all the sensations that went with it came rushing back, almost like an instant replay.

"The way you keep bringing that night up, I'm starting to think you want an encore."

"You think you'd be up for a repeat performance?"

"Without a doubt, I've always known how to handle you."

Her voice sounded huskier, a warmth surrounded him, close and intimate, tickling his ear as if she were there in person instead of on the phone.

"Even that little thing you did with…I mean that seemed like a one of a kind maneuver…" he chuckled, smiling a bit. There was movement on the phone and he could hear muffled talking but the words were unclear. "Hello…hello?"

"Thanks Finn," she said clearly into the phone.

"This is Sam," he said, his neck tightening at the mention of that name.

"I know that," she giggled.

"Why did you call me Finn?" he asked not amused in the slightest.

"Oh Finn was just telling me that he was bringing the car around."

"So you're out with Finn Hudson? At 2am?" His voice was rising, but he didn't bother to pull it back. Twice now she had been with that jerk.

"Is there anything else you needed? I've got to go."

"I need to know what the hell my wife is doing out with another man." Okay so he was definitely on the brink of yelling, but just a few minutes ago she was practically having phone sex with him, and all the while she had been with another man

"I don't see why you care. You've made it clear we have separate lives."

"Answer the question. What are you doing out?" he asked his blood pressure starting to rise. He could feel the rage building in his gut.

"He's a friend and I don't owe you any explanations."

"Is Finn the one you were going to leave me for?"

Sam needed to know who that man was, the one she sent that letter to. There was a guy out there, probably feeling pretty smug because he got one up on Sam Evans. He needed to know who that man was so he could settle a few things.

"I already told you no," she said quickly. "That was a different guy."

"How many men do you have lined up? Are you running around with different guys when you claim to be at work?"

"I don't have much time for a dating life, I've sort of been busy with a husband in a coma."

"Don't try to distract me with the bedside vigil bull. I know you didn't stay with me 24 hours a day." Mercedes could have slipped in and out of that hospital undetected, no one would've been any the wiser if she were seeing someone else on the side.

"You know what Sam? You're right. You caught me. I was having torrid affairs with hundreds of men while you were sick. Sometimes we just pushed you over and went at it right next to you on the bed."

She was toying with him, making him feel stupid for even suggesting she'd cheat, as if she didn't have a track record that proved that very thing.

"Just stop it. I don't know why I even thought you would be honest with me."

"What's the point? You just believe what you want anyway, there's no getting through to you."

"Maybe if you hadn't lied to me repeatedly, I'd be able to trust you."

"I didn't lie to you. Holding back is not lying."

Getting a straight answer out of Mercedes was impossible. Sam beginning to think she didn't even know the meaning of the word truth.

"Nice moral code you got there, flexible honesty."

"You lied about sleeping with Quinn and you are lying now about how you really feel about me. The only liar in our relationship is you," she said loudly.

"We don't have a relationship," he said enunciating every word so she'd get the message.

"You've made that very clear. I'm going now, Finn just pulled up."

"We're not done with this conversation." Mercedes still hadn't fully explained what she and Finn were actually doing.

"I think we've been done for some time now, I was just too blind to see it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" There was a finality in her voice that caught him off guard. Mercedes was talking about more than their phone call.

"Have a nice night. I'm going to spend the rest of mine with someone that actually likes being around me."

"It's 2am, the night is over. You need to go home."

"Finn might not be ready for the night to end just yet. We were having fun until you called."

"Fun? What kind of fun?" His mind flashed to her having the same fun with Finn that they had that night in the hospital, which was completely unacceptable.

"Goodbye Sam."

"Wait!" he said jumping up from the bed. "I'm not done talking about this."

"I am." The phone went dead.

"She hung up on me. I can't believe that damn…" Sam slammed the phone down on its base, rattling the lamp and clock on the table.

"That was Mercedes on the phone?" asked Quinn from behind him.

Sam hadn't even heard the door open. Turning slowly, taking a few deep breaths to come down from his angry mood, he faced Quinn, standing in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a towel and a frown.

"Uh yeah," he hesitated running his hand through his short dark blonde hair, not meeting her eyes. "That was Mercedes. I just wanted to touch base with her. Let her know where we were."

"That was nice of you. I'm sure she'd be concerned with you being out so late." Quinn gripped the towel that covered her body, pulling it tighter. A strange air had fallen over the room and she felt more exposed than she actually was.

"Yeah. That's Mercedes. Concerned." There was a bitter note in his voice and Quinn could still see the angry lines across his brow. Whatever happened on the phone call didn't disappear when he hung up the phone.

"So what had you so upset?" Quinn asked leaning against the door, unsure whether to go back inside the bathroom and finish dressing, or come out into the room and press Sam for answers.

"I'm not upset," he said looking at her now as he walked toward her, a smile emerging on his face where moments before there had only been a grimace.

"Sam I heard you," Quinn dropped her head, not wanting to be distracted by his lips. She'd missed his smile these past months and now every time she saw it, she couldn't help but stare, overjoyed he was able to show his bright smile again. "You were talking loud and you just slammed down the phone."

"Just frustrating, she wants me to remember things and I can't." His smile stiffened, looking plastic for a beat, before he recovered and returned to a more natural expression. "Did you find everything you needed in the bag Figgins packed for you?" he asked, grabbing her elbow and pulling her away from the bathroom door.

"Yes. He even got the sizes right."

Figgins had thought of everything, from head to toe. The dress he had packed for her to wear the next day was a beautiful shade of deep blue and something she might have actually chosen herself. The nightgown he selected was a silvery gray silk. Quinn couldn't wait to pull it on and feel it against her skin. She had been about to do just that when she had heard Sam talking in the other room.

"The man is amazing," said Sam as his eyes roamed over her body.

Her skin warmed as she watched him take her in. She felt on display and a little nervous trying to decipher Sam's expression. What if he didn't like what he saw? She had filled out a bit after having Beth.

"Well the shower's free if you wanted to…" she said pointing toward the bathroom. "I just need to get my nightgown first."

"I forgot to bring much for myself. I never expected we'd be spending the night together," he said moistening his lips with his tongue.

The way he said 'together' gave her chills, she quickly glanced at the large bed behind him, the only bed in the room, and thought about the places the night could actually go.

"I think Figgins took care of that. There's stuff for you in the bag, unless the suit is for me to wear, seemed a bit big though," she said lightly trying to joke, but his green eyes never left hers, and both his hands were running up and down her arms, making everything suddenly seem intensely serious.

Sam moved closer to her, pushing her heavy damp hair away from her shoulders. "I will have to make sure that he gets a bonus."

Quinn shivered as his fingertips lightly traced a pattern on her bare shoulder. "Maybe after you get ready for bed you can tell me what's really wrong?"

He stilled, dropping his hands, backing away from her. "I told you I'm fine. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me."

Quinn wanted to pull him back, snuggle herself in his arms again, but he had his back to her now, mesmerized by the beige wall on the opposite side of the room.

"I wasn't going to say anything, but I can't just leave it. I overheard you."

"Overheard what?" he asked turning quickly to face her. His smile was gone, all that remained was a tight thin line across his mouth, and the shadow of his dimple.

"Part of your phone call." Quinn sucked in her lower lip, warring with herself about the merits of pursuing this subject. In the end curiosity won out, she needed to know. "Are you mad at Mercedes because she's out with another guy?"

"What?" His jaw slacked slightly, as he ran his hand through his hair roughly a few times. "Why would I care about that? I don't feel anything for her."

Sam sounded convincing, and she could see the distaste evident on his face, if only he had looked her in the eyes when he had said it, instead of at the floor.

"It's understandable if you did. She's your wife…"

Quinn hoped he would trust her enough to be honest with her, and know that she wouldn't judge him for anything. She held back from actually saying those words to him, hoping instead that he just somehow knew they were good enough friends to deal with anything. She was testing their connection in a sense. She needed to know what still remained after all they had gone through.

"In name only, she's not my wife in any way that counts." He took a seat on the bed.

"Just because you can't remember her doesn't mean it hurts any less. She vowed to love you. I know I wouldn't like it if Puck was seeing another woman. He probably is already and I don't know about it. I think he and Santana are starting up again."

While she was still at Lima hospital there had been a few rumors that hospital board member Noah Puckerman had been seeing someone in the administrative office. Quinn had only caught bits and pieces as she snuck through the building hoping not to be discovered, she didn't have a chance to really get any details. Puck was an attractive, wealthy man, women were probably swarming him, especially since he was publicly nursing a very broken heart thanks to her.

"Do you still have feelings for Puck?" Sam asked, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

"I will always care about him."

"Are you hoping you two might work it out one day?" Quinn could tell Sam was looking for assurances, his posture changing to reflect his complete interest in the current topic of conversation.

"I hurt him too badly for that. I'm just glad we're still able to be friends."

She could admit that now, without feeling the knots of guilt in her stomach. There would be no more Puck and Quinn, not after all of this, even though Puck had managed to forgive her, they still would never be together again. She was finally able to face the truth, Puck wasn't the man she wanted anymore, and hadn't been for close to a year.

"Give him time. Wounded pride takes extra time to heal."

"Are you speaking from personal experience?" she asked raising an eyebrow at his comment.

Sam laughed but never smiled. "I could write a book on being dumped and getting my pride hurt."

"Oh." Her stomach dropped. Perhaps it had all been wishful thinking but she had hoped that Sam had stopped resenting her for events of years past. "I was hoping we had gotten past all that."

"We did. I don't blame you for anything. I thought we got all that out in the open during the limo crash," said Sam sounding surprised that Quinn had thought any differently.

"I thought so too, but so much has happened since then, things could have changed." Things actually had been different before the crash, Sam had gotten over it all, but probably because he had gotten over her, more than any other reason.

"Not for me, it's all the same as back then for me."

Quinn sat down next to Sam on the bed, rubbing his back lightly, before letting her hand fall. It hurt her to see Sam so confused, a part of her wished she could just blurt it all out to him right now and fill him in completely. Then the other half kicked in and she knew that full disclosure would be a mistake, too many things needed more explanation than their one night alone would allow. Bit by bit was all she could give him.

"Even without your memories things have changed, just because you don't know about it, doesn't make it all disappear for the rest of us."

Hooking up with Mike, cheating with Puck, hurting Mercedes, her poor little Beth, it was all still there for Quinn. She couldn't retreat to 2011 and claim a fresh start. Her demons lived within her, screaming in her ear, constantly reminding her of all she had done.

"Bring me up to speed. I want to know all about my life after the crash. I trust you to be honest with me," he said pulling on a few curls at the end of her hair.

"I need you to be honest with me too." She turned to face him fully, pulling her knee up between them, careful not to reveal too much under her towel.

"Always," said Sam squeezing her bare knee.

"What happened on the phone with Mercedes? Why were you really so upset?"

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. "Back to Mercedes again? I thought we were going to focus on us."

"She's your wife Sam. I'm sure you can understand why I can't just ignore that fact."

He had tensed up beside her, the hand on her knee digging into her flesh with increased pressure.

"I promise you she means nothing to me."

She wanted to believe him, but she couldn't forget what she had seen. There was something more going on between them.

"That's not entirely true is it? Puck showed me pictures of the two of you together at the hospital," said Quinn standing up.

Sam kissing Mercedes, looking at Mercedes, touching Mercedes, it had formed a pretty obvious conclusion in Quinn's mind. Sam liked Mercedes. At first she had thought it was his memory breaking through, a part of him starting to remember his feelings for his wife, but Puck had told her that was not the case, Sam still knew nothing about Mercedes. That had made it worse. Why was Sam looking that way at a woman he barely knew? Those questions continued to pick at her, making her even guiltier for her own feelings for Sam, she should have been happy he was connecting with his wife in some way.

"That was before I knew we were married."

As if that mattered, he had been interested in another woman just weeks ago, and now he was with her in a hotel. Quinn was confused by his actions. What did he want from her?

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? You both looked really happy together."

"It was one night."

"So for one night she meant something to you, but now she doesn't?"

He was acting so casual, nonchalantly shrugging off the attraction she had witnessed with her own eyes. When he was alone with Mercedes did he do the same? Would he downplay the feelings he was starting to express tonight when he went home to Mercedes, telling her the kiss they had shared in the backseat of Mike's car was nothing more than a peck on the lips between old friends?

"Exactly. Once I found out about you and Beth, everything changed for me. It was like things suddenly became clearer."

"And you were angry at her on the phone because?"

"Despite the fact, I feel nothing for her, she's still married to me. Her behavior reflects on the Evans family and on D&E. I can't have my wife hooking up with random men behind my back."

His family was big on image, especially since their reputation was somewhat shady. The Evans' family made great effort to appear like any other family in the community, actively participating in charitable organizations, visiting local restaurants, even for a time sending their children to public school. Quinn knew it was all and act, Dwight was as shady as they come, with his one hand in every pocket, and his other firmly on the trigger of a loaded gun.

"Sounds reasonable, but Sam what about the other stuff I heard, are you sure you don't remember anything about her?"

Sam hadn't even noticed she was there, reclined on the bed, a sly grin on his face. Quinn had seen that look so many times before, Sam up to mischievous seduction, his face giving away the dirty thoughts in his head. The nights they shared, when they were lovers were filled with looks like that. Sam liked being suggestive, flirtatious words pouring from his mouth, while his hands emphasized his point on her body. He had driven her wild, arousing her in ways she'd never experienced before. From the bathroom doorway she watched him use those very same techniques on another woman. It had hurt Quinn more than she thought possible.

"Nothing at all. Why are we even wasting time talking about her? Look around Quinn, do you see?" he asked opening his arms wide as he approached her.

"What?" she asked.

"It's just the two of us," he said wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. "And I couldn't be happier."

"I'm happy too." She placed the palms of her hands against his chest, her last barrier of control before she lost herself in him completely.

"Good," he said softly, kissing her forehead, before releasing her from his embrace. "Just give me ten minutes and I'll be back."

Sam headed into the bathroom, leaving her alone with giant bed that seemed to be increasing in size by the minute. Before he shut the door he handed her the nightgown she had left behind. Happy to be able to discard the scratchy white hotel towel, Quinn pulled the gown over her head, letting the smooth silk fall down her body. It was nice to wear something so luxurious. Her wardrobe had consisted of cotton sweat suits and yoga pants for far too long.

She pulled back the golden bedspread to reveal the white sheets, tightly tucked under the mattress. Not quite ready to dive under the covers, she spread out on top of them, lying diagonally across the bed. Quinn heard the shower turn on and for a few minutes she closed her eyes enjoying the soothing sounds of the water hitting the tiles. Afraid she might fall asleep, she grabbed the remote and turned on the television in the hopes of finding something to occupy her mind.

Turner Classic Movies was playing 'A Summer Place', a movie more famous for the theme song than the actual plot, but Quinn had always liked it. Two teens falling in love amidst the backdrop of their parental angst. Tonight Quinn couldn't help but note the appropriateness of the movie for her current situation. She was no longer in the position of the young lovers, exploring their first romance, she was firmly in the spot of the parents in the movie, reunited with an old love and contemplating an adulterous affair.

Quinn inwardly groaned at that last thought, having an affair. The last thing she wanted was to be unfaithful again. Technically she was single, so she had no worries on that front, but the object of her affection, was anything but. If only she could go back, and do it all again. She'd be smarter, braver, and make better choices all around. Sometimes she longed for the power to go back.

It had been a warm evening, the impending sunset was doing nothing to lessen the heat. She had come back to the Beacon after spending the day with Santana, trying to make sense of the mess her life had become. She was armed with two milkshakes from the pub, one chocolate, one vanilla. Two because she wasn't sure which flavor would best soothe her frazzled mood, and also because extra ice cream just seemed like the right choice, she deserved all the sweet comfort she could get.

She had planned to watch the sunset on the balcony, quietly sobbing into her shakes, but it was not to be that night. Sam was there, out on his own balcony, feet propped up on the rail in front of him, still in his shirt and tie from work, white button down, dark gray pants, striped tie, blonde hair falling into his eyes. He had told her he decided to come home early, a meeting had been cancelled, and he couldn't muster the energy to continue working, so he came to find some fresh air and a clearer mind on the balcony. She handed him her chocolate shake, because he looked like he needed it more than her. They were silent for a while, only the sounds of the liquid through their straws, and the distant blares of car horns, disturbing their quiet.

"Ever wonder what it would be like if we could just start over? Take a giant eraser and do it all over again?" asked Quinn breaking the silence.

Sam looked over at her through the iron bars that separated them. "How far back are we talking? High school?"

"We can go there. Think things would've turned out differently if we had stayed together then?"

He shook his head slightly, sipping from his straw. "I needed the military. It was good for me. I was getting too intense, caught up in the wrong things."

"But would you have been that way if Puck and I…" she trailed off not finishing her sentence, always a bit nervous whenever she brought up the subject of Puck with him.

"It wasn't really about Puck. It was about me. I didn't like the person I was becoming. I didn't feel like a good enough man. Still don't."

"You're a good man Sam. Then and now." She wanted to touch him, rub his arm, stroke his cheek, anything to let him know she meant what she was saying, but the bars kept her at bay.

"That's decent of you to say but…"

"I mean it," she said hoping to catch his eyes through the bars. He turned then, looking into her face, as if he were considering what she had just said.

"Thanks. That means a lot," he said when he looked away, leaving Quinn to study his profile, once more.

"Rewind the clock and we never broke up in high school. What do you think would've happened?" Quinn asked putting down her milkshake and moving her chair closer to the bars that kept them apart.

"I only know one thing for sure," he said staring at her intently, his green eyes seeming brighter as the sun faded for the day.

"What's that?" Quinn asked holding the bars with both hands.

"I would've married you," he said never looking away.

Quinn looked down, completely caught off guard by the intensity of his words. "We were so young."

"That didn't matter. I knew I would have loved you forever."

Quinn looked up to find him still looking in her direction, his eyes unfocused, perhaps seeing something beyond the here and now.

"What do you think would've happened?" asked Sam taking another sip of his shake.

"I would've said yes," Quinn said, smiling out into the horizon as she saw the two of them in her mind, so young, emotions overtaking them.

"I wish you would've given me a hint back then. I would've been down on one knee so fast."

"Our parents would have killed us," Quinn laughed feeling brave enough to face him again.

Sam smiled. "It would have been worth it though."

He stuck his index finger through the bars, a lone invader into her territory. Quinn latched onto that finger with her own, the closest they could get to an embrace from their fixed points. It was still too risky to share a space without the protection of bars.

"You think we'd be happier now if we'd gotten married back then?"

He let go of her finger and retreated back to his own side. "I don't know. I've got one divorce under my belt, soon to be two."

"And I've got a broken engagement."

"I would hate to think we would have broken up and lost each other. The way we are now, how we've been over the years, is kind of perfect. Wouldn't you say?"

"You are the best friend I could ask for," she replied leaning her head against the balcony bars between them.

"I feel the same."

"But sometimes I wonder," she stopped herself, chewing her lower lip nervously.

"What? Finish your thought." She felt Sam rub the top of her head, a part he could reach through the bars, to get her attention.

Quinn couldn't look at him, but she told him what she had been trying to hold. "Sometimes I wonder if we would've been better off as a couple, friends and lovers combined."

"That's just heartache talking. If you weren't on the outs with Puck you'd see how we never really worked."

"I wasn't thinking about Puck at all actually," she said lifting her head, feeling the need to explain her point. "I was thinking maybe we never gave each other a real chance. We sold ourselves short."

"There are some things I wished I handled differently, especially with you and Penny, but I don't know Quinn." He shook his head, turning to look at her. "Wouldn't we have ended up together somehow if we were supposed to?"

"Not when we kept getting in our own way."

"I've done that so many times. Still can't believe I was going to marry Rachel, knowing all the while that I wasn't the type of man she wanted. I convinced myself we could work through that."

Quinn shrugged. "Maybe you could have. Before she saw that sex tape hadn't you two gotten back together?"

"Yes we had. The sex tape wasn't really the problem though. The real issue was that she didn't trust me."

"You did sleep with another woman." Quinn reminded him softly.

"We were broken up. It was more that she always thought there was something between Mercedes and me. And she was right." Sam put down his empty milkshake and leaned back in his chair.

"You think Mercedes thought there was something between us?"

Sam paused for a moment, considering her question. "I don't think so."

"Puck did. He asked me to spend less time with you a few times."

"You never told me that," he said his eyes widening.

"No point. I didn't do it. I wasn't giving you up for him and his stupid insecurities."

"Not so stupid, was he? Look what we did," he laughed humorlessly looking out at the setting sun. "You think they will ever forgive us?"

"I don't know Sam. It's a lot to ask."

"I know. I can't help hoping for a miracle though, a way to get it all back."

"We could always put our heads together and invent that time eraser, wipe it all away, go back to high school."

He smiled still looking out over the balcony. "Sounds good. I might take you up on that if not for one thing."

"What one thing?" asked Quinn.

"My wife. I don't want to live in a world without her."

She could hear his voice break at the mention of Mercedes and Quinn's heart dropped, disappointed that his wife had come in and interrupted the two of them again.

"You might be forced to if she divorces you."

"Maybe so, but at least I'd still have the memories. I'd know at one time it was all real and I was happy." He covered his face with his hands, seeming more upset than he had been all night. Quinn had wanted to make him feel better not worse.

"Right. I was just being silly. I don't want to forget the people we love. I was just looking for a way to end this pain."

Sam smiled at her, reaching out and rubbing her head through the bars again. "All we can do is hold on to each other and try to survive. I won't let go if you don't."

"Hey I was calling your name. Didn't you hear me?" asked Sam touching her shoulder lightly. Quinn looked up to see Sam above her, wet hair, dressed in a long sleeve gray henley and blue and gray plaid bottoms.

"Sorry I must have been lost in thought."

He smiled as he took his watch off and put it on the side table. "Thinking about me I hope."

"Yes all about you."

"Nice," he flashed a grin at her, dimples and creases erupting on his face. "I was thinking about you too, when I was in the shower."

"Is this going somewhere dirty?" asked Quinn, knowing how Sam's mind worked.

"Nope, I'm all clean. I actually was thinking about us in high school."

"Really? What about us in high school?" How strange they had both been thinking about those days.

"Just how sometimes I wished we could take a trip back. Revisit our younger selves," he said climbing into bed beside her.

Quinn tried to hide her shock at the eeriness of this conversation. It was like he had been reading her mind. "What advice would you give to young Sam?"

"I'd tell him to never let you go."

Quinn leaned into him, bumping his shoulder with hers, so moved by what he had just said. She struggled to find the words to respond to that, everything that came to her mind seemed so weak in comparison. Maybe actions would be enough she decided, as she took his hand in her own, lacing her fingers with his, smiling into his face that was so close to her. He tilted his head to the side, watching her watch him, not offering anything to alleviate the awkwardness between them.

She dropped her head, letting go of his hand and biting on her lower lip, cursing herself for ruining the moment. He had said something so incredibly sweet and she had said nothing in return, not even a thank you. She was such an idiot. Then she felt a drop of water on her shoulder, on her arm, then her thigh. She looked over to find Sam on his knees, shaking his head from side to side vigorously like a wet puppy, showering her with cold droplets of water.

"Sam stop it!" she squealed through her fit of laughter, each drop of water tickling her skin. "You're going to mess up the bed."

He stopped, breathing heavily, a crooked smirk on his face. He had that look, he was plotting some mischievous seduction, and this time it was all for her. Quinn leaned back into the pillows, and waited to see what he would do next.