Chapter 22

Kitty Wilde had been the first. Her bottled blond hair and obviously low cut shirts, boobs constantly thrown in Sam's face, she had been a hormonal menace in high school. She was the most forward, but not the only girl after Sam back then, dating a popular boy had been an exercise in patience. Control and faked confidence were the only things that kept Quinn from getting into numerous hair pulling battles over him. Sam was desired and some girls didn't let a little thing like him having a girlfriend hold them back. If anything that just made it more of a challenge, the thrill of the chase. Now ten years later she had turned into one of those girls.

With Penny at first Quinn tried to push the boundaries of their established no strings relationship to oust that southern belle from his life. The only thing she ended up doing was making Penny more attractive and herself more depressed. While she would count Mike as a regret in the grand scheme of her life, he also was a godsend at the time, without him there holding her up, Quinn was sure she would have gone to extremes to get Sam's full attention. Thinking back, it wasn't even really about Sam, but about not losing anyone else from her life. Failing in her relationship with Puck had hurt her far more than she let on. There was a time when she and Puck were so perfectly in sync and they believed nothing could sever their love – then cocaine and Karl, the music producer, came in and bashed those fantasies to bits, proving that love not only didn't conquer all, but had a tendency to fade.

When he hooked up with Rachel Berry she managed to behave, more because her personal life was in shambles and less because she had let go of Sam. It was complicated, feeling a certain way about Sam Evans, just because she chose Puck over him in high school didn't necessarily mean she didn't care about him. A part of her maintained that link between her heart and his, and unfair as it was she liked that he kept that connection too. She was happy with Puck at first, and to some extent Mike, and very much with Puck that second time, but none of that changed the fact that a part of her still held onto Sam.

Maybe because he was a first love, she felt possessive of him, she didn't want just any woman stealing his heart or worse than that, breaking it. Because deep down, buried beneath her insecurities, and her dreams of her little castle, she kept the hope for another chance with Sam. A do-over of what she threw away in high school and of what they squandered after the limo crashed, in the back of her mind she always thought they would get another real shot to be together. Maybe it would be fifty years in the future, but it would happen, she hoped.

Then he announced over cocktails in the Evans' living room that he was marrying Mercedes Jones and that buried hope started to wither, and at the time Quinn didn't know why. There was something about his certainty of her, the way he said they were engaged but didn't feel compelled to prove his case or defend his actions, he wanted her and nothing else mattered. Quinn had never seen him that way before, well not since he was that way about her. And that was it, the love she saw in his eyes for Mercedes, looked too much like the love she used to see directed at her, and she didn't much like it.

It was horrible that she could even feel that way, she should've been glad Sam found someone to love and build a life with, it was so wrong to entertain such selfish thoughts. So she worked hard to correct them, trying to support Sam and his relationship with Mercedes as much as she could, besides she had Puck and she loved him, so those quasi jealous feelings were ridiculous. It simply was a wave of nostalgia, a longing to keep a part of her life ever the same, like a beauty queen reluctant to hand over her crown to the next in line. That's all it was. Right?

Asking Sam about his feelings for Mercedes was just as she had said, the need to ensure that he was doing everything possible to keep Mercedes happy. Mercedes was too sharp to fall for forced emotions, so Sam had to truly feel something or this would never work. And that's exactly why she had asked about the kiss, a simple test to gauge his emotional commitment to his father's deal. But as she watched Sam fidget and grow more uncomfortable sitting beside her, offering no replies or anything at all, Quinn began to grow anxious. Was his answer in all that he couldn't say? Was he uncomfortable because he was about to break her heart and he didn't know how to do it? Those fears heightened as she imagined scenario after scenario of ways Sam might tell her the same thing, he was in love with Mercedes.

Then the fear morphed to anger, because how could he love Mercedes again? He didn't remember her and she wasn't the mother of his child. Quinn thought about those photos on Puck's phone and what Santana hinted had happened between Sam and Mercedes at the hospital, then she remembered that phone call she overheard last night. All these signs that kept pointing in the same direction, Sam was in love with his wife, which really should have been a good thing, except for the small fact that she didn't want him to be.

Mercedes had her chance with Sam and blew it majorly, messages, lies, and divorce papers, they should have been done by now. Only the crash kept them a pair, their mangled relationship held together by her guilty memories and Dwight Evans' meddling. It was Quinn's turn now, the buried hope was unearthed and perched in the palm of her hand. Years of mistakes, fear, and plain stupidity had kept her from him, but now she knew, she loved Sam and she wanted him back. Just like that she was Kitty Wilde, dolled up in her red cleavage baring dress, sneaking up the back stairwell to steal Mercedes' man. There was no honor in her actions, she deserved to be called out for this, but the more time she spent with Beth and Sam the less she allowed herself to care. These few minutes were theirs, maybe she had no claim on Sam out in the real world, but behind doors, in Beth's nursery, they were a family.

Beth was content in her little flying saucer shaped chair, all her focus on the stars dangling in front of her. Quinn sat on the floor beside her not wanting to return to her seat on the bed beside Sam. How much time had passed since he spoke? Minutes, many nerve wracking minutes Quinn waited while Sam sat on the bed destroying his hair with his hands. She was so close to telling him to forget she even asked the question. The last thing she wanted was to add even more stress into his life. Whether he felt something for Mercedes or not was really none of her concern, his answer wouldn't change anything for her, he'd still be married to another woman. Maybe if she repeated that thought enough, she'd actually start to believe it, and move on from her silly and probably pointless dream that she would be with Sam one day. The wife always wins, everyone knew that, in movies and romance novels the other woman was inevitably left crying with a glass of red wine in one hand and a gay best friend in the other. She already sort of had the requisite gay bff in Santana, and the promise of girl's night back at the suite. That's where she should be, instead of sitting on the floor at Sam's feet waiting for him to break her heart.

"Yes I meant it," he said finally, his voice low and strained. "When I kissed Mercedes I wasn't only trying to convince her to stay. I wanted to do it."

She forced a smile, but inside she deflated a little. "Thank you for being honest about it."

He touched her shoulder to get her attention. "Quinn, I feel like I need to explain."

"Don't bother. I don't need to know." More than that, she didn't want to know. She wanted to hang on to this precious time where he loved her and they were together with Beth. She didn't need any declaration of his love for Mercedes coming in and messing it all up, not yet.

"Yes you do. I don't want any secrets between us."

"Sam I get it. You have feelings for her," she said staring at his feet.

"This thing with Mercedes is not what you think. It's not like I love her."

"You don't?" Quinn asked looking up at him.

"No way," he said softly, running his finger along the side of her face. "You didn't honestly think I was in love with her did you?"

"You took so long to answer, I wasn't sure. I thought you might be trying to break the news to me gently."

"Quinn I think you should know that I do feel something for her. I'm," he hesitated. "Interested."

"Interested?" What the heck did that mean? Did he want to jump her bones or do a background check?

"Yeah she's this mystery in my life…"

"And you can't help but want to figure out why you're so drawn to her?" she asked, cutting him off. Quinn could understand the feeling. It was like that in the beginning with Puck. She was compelled to figure out what the spark between them meant.

"Something like that. It's all so weird and confusing knowing I had this whole life with someone that is practically a stranger to me."

"I can only imagine how mixed up your feelings must be, waking up to find out you're married to a girl you don't remember."

Probably was a real shock for him to come out of the coma and find out that a chubby girl with a big smile and too much energy was his nurse, let alone his wife. Even stranger that he developed a crush on her before he even knew who she was. Mercedes looked about fifteen and was not his type, no one would have chosen her for him. But after months in a coma he wakes up and chooses her for himself? Unreal. Maybe Mercedes was more Sam's type than anyone realized.

"I'm not going to lie to you, I am attracted to her," Sam admitted.

"That's a start right? Maybe you can build on that and make your marriage work," said Quinn trying to sound optimistic when actually she felt anything but.

An attraction would help him convince Mercedes to stay in the relationship, but what if that attraction developed into something more, awakening feelings that were only blocked because of the accident? Encouraging Sam to spend time with Mercedes might keep her out of the psych ward, but could potentially keep her out of Sam's arms as well. Was her freedom worth risking her shot to be with Sam? Maybe she should do whatever time the judge mandated instead of forcing Sam to be in marriage he didn't want.

"When you say things like that I don't know what to think. I don't know if you really don't care I'm attracted to my wife or if you only want me to be because of my father's deal."

"Obviously you need to stay married so I can remain out of the hospital."

"But how do you feel about me staying married?"

"It doesn't matter how I feel," she said turning her attention to Beth. "You're the one that is deciding to do it."

"It matters to me."

He was doing that thing she could never resist, where his voice got all soft and smooth and his emotions leaked into his words. Quinn knew if she looked over at Sam his eyes would be all squinty with just a hint of green peeking out. Taking a chance, she looked up at him and was hit with those squinty green eyes, just as she expected. That was the look that almost made her lose her virginity that night when she was seventeen. She really needed to look away, but she couldn't. He was drawing her in.

"Sam, I already told you I want my future to be with you. What more can I say?" she asked almost on a sigh. She wanted to climb in his lap, run her fingers through his hair, and lose herself in those eyes.

"Tell me you hate the idea of me with my wife. Tell me that the fact I kissed her makes you jealous. Tell me that you're not only here because you want me to keep my father's deal."

Couldn't he tell that the very thought of him with Mercedes was killing her? Couldn't he read the look on her face? Quinn knew the answer would be 'no' to both of those questions. She was shielding her real emotions from him, something she was so good at doing. Years of practice had made her an expert at faking indifference. Letting Sam know how much all of this mattered to her would not help their case.

"Sam, I've said too much already. I don't have the right …" she said trailing off mid sentence. She was running, dodging the truth and his eyes like she'd done so often with him over the years.

"Quinn I don't think you understand what's going on here for me. I want to marry you. One day, down the line. I see that for us."

"Married? Really?" Her mask of indifference was faltering as a smile broke out on her face.

"What did you think having a future together meant? I would want a real commitment with you."

If she wasn't sitting down she probably would've fainted and she wasn't the weak in the knees type, but Sam was making her head spin in the best possible way. He was so intense and heartfelt, so honest and direct, completely unafraid to put himself out there and reveal his heart. Such a sexy quality in a man.

"Sam, um...wow…I don't know…uh…" Her throat went dry as she struggled to breathe let alone find the words to respond. This was starting to feel so real.

"Hey, it wasn't a proposal." He laughed nervously, as he stroked her hair. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I just wanted you to know where my head was at."

Did she look freaked out? She wasn't freaked out. Okay maybe a little bit, but not for the reasons he probably thought. She wanted to kiss him, long and deep, letting all her love flow through that kiss. He was so amazing and incredibly sweet and he had no idea that everything he was saying was all that she needed to hear. It gave her hope that even someone as damaged and crazed as her, still had a chance of finding love again, of finding love again with him. If she were brave, she'd look him in the eyes and tell him without hesitation that she was so in love with him and wanted to be with him so much that it was starting to hurt. A dull ache growing within her with each passing minute, knowing she would have to leave them soon. But she wasn't brave, but she planned to be, she couldn't let this night end without him knowing how she felt.

"You know you asked me to marry you before."

"I know in high school. I was such a lovesick dork."

"You were never a dork, but I meant after that, before your accident, when we were staying at the Beacon."

His eyes widened. "That's shocking since you told me we were in love with other people at the time."

"It wasn't anything romantic, more like a pact."

"We have a marriage pact?" asked Sam, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

Quinn smiled as she once again let her mind drift back to the Beacon.

"Thanks for this picnic. I really needed it today," said Sam, running his hands along the patterned comforter from her bed that she had spread out on the floor.

"Calling it a picnic is a stretch. There's no food and we are indoors," said Quinn pulling her knees up to her chin. She was wearing her workout gear, black leggings and a deep purple tank, but she hadn't yet made it to the gym. Sam popping up unexpectedly way before quitting time at D&E had derailed her plans for exercise.

"But we are on a blanket and we have drinks, the very definition of a picnic."

All they had were two glasses and a large bottle of scotch Sam stole from his father's house earlier that day.

"Yeah if you're a wino." Her smile fading when she saw the sad look on his face.

"As long as you're here, the rest doesn't matter," he said taking another drink.

Quinn hadn't been keeping count but she knew Sam was already a few drinks ahead of her. She suspected he had started long before he showed up at her door. He looked disheveled, with his hair falling into his eyes, his white button down no longer crisp and wrinkle free, his dark slacks creased in the wrong places.

"Right back at ya. Feel like talking about what happened today or?" Sam had been to see Mercedes so a little depression was to be expected, but he seemed even more down than normal.

"Nope," he answered quickly.

"Was it really bad?"

"No worse than usual, although this time she did throw some clothes in my face. Apparently she missed a few items when she packed up my stuff and had it shipped to my dad's house." He smiled at her, forced and strained, more like a grimace.

"That's the worse," she said rubbing his arm. "When Puck put my stuff out, I sat outside the apartment door and cried for an hour. Nothing's worse than losing your home."

"It wasn't really ours anyway. It's Beiste's."

"Still. You guys lived there together."

"I worry about her though, in the house alone. Cede doesn't do well by herself, things get to her."

"She has Beiste."

"Beiste's not going to hold her at night when she's scared or wake up in the morning and cook her breakfast."

"I'm sure she will."

"I don't want her to. That's my job. I'm supposed to be there with her Quinn."

She wasn't sure if Sam was a saint or an idiot. Mercedes tossed him aside, and yet he still was worried about her eating breakfast. The girl didn't deserve him at all.

"I know you don't want to hear it, but she's not alone. She has Beiste and she has Puck."

This was about the thirtieth pep talk she'd given him and she was quickly running out of material. The more she heard about Mercedes and her deliberate bitchiness, the less inspired she felt to reassure him about her well being.

"She told me that she doesn't feel anything for me anymore."

"She's lying. Puck says she cries her eyes out over you constantly."

"You're not helping. The last thing I want to do is make her cry."

Quinn put her arm around his shoulders. "At least it shows she cares."

"It shows she's in pain. Cede's been through enough in her life, and now I've added to the pile."

"Where's the real Sam Evans?" she asked pushing the hair out of his face. "I know he's in there. You've got to be getting a little pleasure from this. Payback and all, she was the one that caused all this mess."

"Cede didn't hold me down and make me have sex with you."

"But she did lie to you repeatedly about her feelings for Shane Tinsley."

"She was confused and young."

Quinn sighed as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Are you really going to make excuses for her? She broke your heart and your marriage was basically a sham."

"No she loved me and wanted to be with me."

He was getting upset, but he didn't pull away, that was progress. Usually he blew up when she mentioned Mercedes' shortcomings. Maybe he finally was starting to see his wife's true colors.

"Then why did she leave that message?"

"Hey! You promised to make me feel better. This is not better, rubbing salt in my wounds."

"Sorry that girl pisses me off," she said as she crawled over to the opposite side of the blanket to retrieve her drink. "I had to hear Beiste go on and on about her pain today at the diner. What about our pain? We're bleeding too, stuck on the 20th floor."

"The 21st." Sam corrected her. He had ditched his glass and was swigging straight from the bottle.

"Right, the 21st floor. With nothing but warm scotch to sustain us."

"I said you could get some ice from the machine."

"It's down the hall! Why should we be forced to trek for ice?"

"Because this is a hotel," said Sam gesturing around the room with the scotch bottle.

"Exactly. We're being held hostage in a hotel because of Mercedes' pain and Puck's. Did you know Puck set up a bowflex on my side of the bedroom? Beiste told me."

Sam shook his head in disgust. "What? You've only been gone a couple weeks."

"No hope of reconciliation, Puck would rather work on his abs."

"Sweetheart, you can do so much better than him."

"How can you say that? He's your cousin." Quinn pouted.

"I don't care. I didn't want to say anything before because you love the guy, but I never liked you with him."

"I thought all that stuff from when we were kids was ancient history." This was news to her. Everyone liked Puck, except probably Mike.

"It is history but he slept with Santana. That's just foul."

"Why did you bring up that he slept with Santana?" Quinn turned up her nose. "I'd like to forget that we shared a man."

"On the bright side, you'll now be able to move on to someone more worthy of you."

"You're right. I bet there are a lot of inmates looking for love."

"Stop it. There's a nice man out there for you, one with no prison record. You want to know a secret?" He sat up straighter, his eyes alive with excitement.

"Sure," Quinn replied with far less enthusiasm.

"Here it goes. Usually what you're looking for is right under your nose." He was so pleased with himself, grinning from ear to ear.

"That's the secret? I think I learned that in kindergarten."

"All the best lessons are learned there. I'm speaking as someone that took a long time to understand this. I looked everywhere, but right in front of me for the perfect match. I'd still be searching aimlessly if Mercedes hadn't jumped up and smacked me in the face."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Domestic abuse, what an aphrodisiac."

"It's only abuse if it's nonconsensual." He smirked.

"Eww! Gross! Please don't tell me about your marital adventures into S&M."

"Adventure keeps romance alive, along with a leather whip."

"You're so disgusting!" she said, trying to stifle her urge to laugh. She didn't want to encourage his dirty behavior. Bad things happened when their conversations turned to the topic of sex.

"Don't act like you aren't into a little kink. We've had sex before remember?"

"Sam you promised you'd never bring that up."

"No worries. Only you, me and the bed posts know what really went down."

"Oh my God. I don't know whether to smack your or hug you."

"Ooo smack me baby. We can reenact that night."

"You're crazy, totally nuts, but you always manage to make me laugh."

"Glad to be of service. Anything to keep my best friend happy."

"Have I told you how wonderful you are?" she asked lying down on her back.

"Not in the past ten minutes, so feel free." His arm brushed against hers as he settled down on his back next to her.

"You are the best guy. I'm so glad you're my friend," she said squeezing his hand.

"I'm glad you're mine too." They both rolled over to face each other. "I'd be breaking things like a rock star if it weren't for you."

"If I ever attempt this love and marriage thing again, he's going to be just like you."

Her fingertips trailed his jaw lightly, stubble starting to appear on his usually smooth chin. The smell of his aftershave surrounded her, earthy and clean, so rare to have Sam this close. They tended to keep a balcony between them.

"Impossible. I'm one of a kind baby."

"Okay a close second."

She closed her eyes and inhaled him, something about Sam was so soothing, like a fuzzy blanket, warm chocolate chip cookies, or a really tight hug. He was such a comfort in her life, especially now, when everything hurt.

"Why settle for an imitation when you can have the real deal? If my wife has her way, I'm going to be a free man real soon," he said with a halfhearted smile.

"You don't want to be with me. We tried and failed miserably." Quinn hated to remember that time when they had been so close and threw it all away for two short-lived romances. Thankfully there were no permanent scars, their friendship managed to survive.

"Maybe we didn't try hard enough." His eyes were closed. Quinn couldn't tell if he was talking about them or lost in some regretful thought about Mercedes.

"I'm cutting you off. You're talking crazy."

"What's so crazy about marrying my oldest and closest friend?" he asked opening his eyes. "We get each other, we have history, we listen to each other, and we both hold our liquor exceptionally well."

"And that's so important," she agreed.

"I know!" he said emphatically. "No one wants a pukey mate."

"There's just one thing we're missing. The love."

"Eh. Love stinks." He fanned his hand at her. "We don't need it."

"You're right. We don't need it."

"Okay so that's settled. Now there's something I got to do." Sam sat up on his knees and pulled Quinn up to face him. Taking both her hands he said, "Quinn Fabray, will you marry me, one day, down the line, when I'm a free man with a hollow and blackened heart?"

"Way to sell yourself," she giggled.

"Would it help if I promise to make you a cocktail every night?"

"It's a start. What else you got?"

"Not much. Some money and my fish lips."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"I promise to never break your heart." He put her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

"I won't break yours either," she said feeling a little emotional. The scotch must have been going to her head.

"Is that a yes?" Sam asked with drunken hopefulness.

"Smile once for me. Let me make sure the lips are worth it."

"Oh they're worth it," he said breaking into a grin, his full lips on prominent display. "I've closed many a deal with these babies."

"Okay I'll do it, but only because you promised me cocktails."

She had forgotten all about that proposal until tonight. They were drunk and stupid and it didn't mean anything. An hour afterward Quinn had been giving Sam advice on how to get Mercedes to talk to him. Still Sam's drunken proposal might have been the nicest offer she ever had. She was at such a low point, half the town thought she was a slut, and there was Sam willing to be with her. Now she'd hit a new low, hopefully rock bottom because she couldn't think of anything worse than living with the knowledge that she hurt her baby, and Sam still wanted her. How could she never have noticed how truly special he was before? She had been so blind.

"You proposed, I accepted but the pact is only in effect if you are free, and you are very unfree at the moment."

She picked at lint on his pants leg, looking for any excuse to touch him. If she got up and put her arms around him she was sure Sam wouldn't pull away, but she was dangerously close to crossing over into the point of no return. Letting herself be close, to touch him, would only lead her to places she couldn't allow herself to go, not yet.

"Mercedes would not agree with that assessment. I think she would give you her blessing if you took me off her hands."

"Your rep as a player is a total crock. You don't understand women at all."

"No man does. If they say they do, they're lying."

"Mercedes will never want me to be with you, even if she doesn't want you anymore. I'm the enemy. I broke up her marriage."

"I don't see how she can blame you. Things seem like they were more complicated than that."

Sam really had no idea what he was in for with Mercedes. He was trying to use logic to understand her. That would be his first mistake. Mercedes was far too emotional for rational thoughts. Sam was going to have to get in tuned with his sensitive side if he had any chance of handling his wife.

"They were, but in her mind, it's my fault, which is fine, I don't need her to like me. What I need is for her to like you."

With that photo in circulation, the rumors would spread, and everyone would be whispering they were having an affair. Sam would never keep Mercedes if that happened. He had to put out that flame now before it got out of control, dispel any rumors, become that perfect husband he used to be. A good person honored commitments and kept vows, made sacrifices for family, those were lessons Quinn desperately wanted Beth to learn. At least she could have one decent parent, since her reputation seemed beyond repair at this point. Mercedes was the problem, if she truly wanted a divorce, it would take some creative thinking to change her mind, she was her father's child after all, stubborn and proud. She'd divorce Sam just to spite him, just like she had tried to before the accident. Only Sam facing death got her to relent on her need to punish him.

"We've been over this. It's hopeless," he said with a dejected sigh.

"Do you still have those lips?"

"Uh. Last time I checked."

"Then nothing's hopeless. Keep flashing those things at her and she'll come around. Work that Evans charm."

"That's not going to work, the only Evans she likes now is Beth."

Sam kissed Beth on the head and her little curved into a smile, a perfect match to her father's larger ones.

"Beth." Quinn grinned. "That's it. She's the key."