Ok so this is an AU fic about Sam, Mercedes and Quinn told from each of their points of view. This is a triangle fic, but I believe in even and realistic…so everyone gets a full story and however it ends you'll totally understand WHY it went that way.

So we have Samcedes, Fabrevans, then Quick, Finncedes, Samchel (in the past), Shanecedes and Bram (not much Shane or Brittany at all) to varying degrees. Also strong Kurtcedes & Puckcedes & Quartie friendships.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1

Mercedes Evans shook out her blue and brown plaid umbrella as she entered Scandals Bar. The dingy hole in the wall was dimly lit, and from what she could see pretty empty, even for a Thursday night in Lima, Ohio. She made her way over to the bar and plopped down on a stool. She pulled out her cell phone. 9:05 and no messages. Shane was late, but he was a doctor, he was always late. She needed some time to herself anyway, a few minutes to gain her composure before she had to turn on her smiles for Shane.

It was to be a celebration. Divorce papers were filed, served and soon to be signed, she was free. No more Sam Evans screwing up her life. What had she been thinking? Everyone had warned her about Sam, he would hurt her, use her, leave her, but Mercedes had thought she knew him best, that she could see into his soul. What a crock. Sam had no soul, all he had was a black corroded space where his heart should be. Damaged. Plain and simple. And he almost had her wrecked.

An older strawberry blonde woman was tending the bar. Mercedes said a silent thank you that she didn't recognize her. She needed a drink badly, and she didn't want to have to deal with some regular staff member that would give her a hard time about her age. Divorced before the age of 21 had to make her legal somewhere. She needed a drink. No, she deserved one. A shot of something strong just to take away the dull ache that roared in her head. The relentless pounding that had never ceased since the day Sam sank to his knees grasped her waist and pleaded with her not to leave. It was almost ironic. Their relationship started out with him on his knees when he proposed, and they ended the same way. Her life was just filled with cruel jokes like that one. Like having to endure her husband of less than six months screwing her best friend's fiancé.

"Can I get some service?" Mercedes rustled through her teal leather clutch searching for her fake ID from her club kid days. She couldn't afford to take any chances.

"What can I do you for?" asked the woman as she slowly eyed Mercedes from head to torso and back.

Looking her straight in the eye, with her patented self-assured voice she ordered. "I would like a vodka tonic on the rocks."

"A vodka tonic?"

"Yes. Now," she snapped.

"A little snippy thing aren't you?"

"I don't have time to for small talk. Can you just make my drink please?"

"Sure Miss Thing. I will get right on that."

"Thank you".

"Right after you turn 21."

"Excuse me? If you need to see ID just say so. Don't just assume someone is underage."

"I didn't assume. I know you are underage. Just like I know anything in that wallet of yours will be fake. I should actually by law confiscate it. But maybe it would be best if I just called your father instead."

"My father?"

"Yep, your father, Julian Jones. See I know all about you thanks to my stepson."

"Oh my God."

"We have never met. Let me introduce myself. I am Carol Hudson-Hummel."

"Great. Nice to meet you," she mumbled as she moved over to a small table adjacent to the bar. "I'm just going to take a seat over there while I wait for Shane."

"Shane? Shane Tinsley?" Carol asked as she came from behind the bar and approached Mercedes at her table.

"Yes Shane Tinsley. Let me guess you have him on speed dial too?"

"No but I do know all about him. See he was dating my stepson's roommate, Rachel Berry, making her perfectly happy, until some clingy ex-girlfriend started monopolizing all his time. That wouldn't be you by any chance?"

"Okay, I am going to say this one time. You really need to mind your own business. I'm not in the mood tonight."

"Wow. I find that surprising. From what I hear you should be dancing in the streets. Word is you ditched Sam Evans and are on your way to being a free woman. And look at you, haven't even missed a beat, already back on the dating scene."

"I don't have to take this from you. I'm waiting outside. You clearly need to get a life instead of indulging in all the local gossip."

"Stay dry, hon," Carol said as the door closed behind Mercedes.

What was it about this town? She exhaled sharply as she leaned against the damp brick of the building. Once again Mercedes was fodder for the local gossips. Just once she wished she could live her life in private, without her activities spreading through the town like wildfire. A normal life that was all she ever had wanted, and now she was even further from that reality than ever. She should be at fraternity parties and worrying about exams not filing for divorce. Soon, she thought. Soon she would be free.

"I so need a drink," she sighed out loud leaning forward slightly to let the mist from the steady rain cool her face and further destroy the curls that she spent an hour putting in her black shoulder length hair. A pale hand emerged from the dark offering a silver and brown flask. It glinted in the soft glow of the streetlight, offering the promise of relief from her mind.

"A smart woman never accepts a drink from a strange man," she said as she grabbed the flask from his hand. Her lips curled around the mouth of the flask, tentatively at first but her caution dissipated as the hint of scotch hit her tongue. She took a few sips and let the burn of the alcohol warm her body. "But I needed that, so thanks," she said softly as she offered the flask out into the darkness. "My husband has a flask just like that. He keeps it in his coat pocket. He used to think he was being clever by sneaking sips from it, instead of raiding his father's wet bar. As if he could ever hide anything from me. I could always read him so well. Except that once..." she trailed off quietly. "Can I get another sip of that please?"

"Drinking never makes it better. Trust me on that." He raked a hand through his damp hair as he leaned in and handed Mercedes the flask, shuddering slightly as his fingers grazed hers in the exchange.

She shivered as their fingers touched, almost electric. There was only one person that ever made her feel that way from a simple touch. She slowly raised her eyes dreading what she would find. Sam leaning too close, half in shadow, staring down at her with heavy lidded eyes, open just enough to see the darkening crystal green of his eyes.

"Sam! What are you doing here?" she almost rasped, silently cursing herself for her lack of ease in his mere presence.

"What am I doing here? What am I doing? That seems to be the question that defines my whole existence these days. You see just a few months ago I was happily married, to a woman I adored. And now I am getting shit faced outside a crappy bar because my cousin's bitch new wife cut me off."

"Are you spying on me?" How dare he come here and try to guilt her? It is not her fault that he got trashed and decided to do his whorish ex-girlfriend. "You know maybe my lawyer was right and I should have added a restraining order to my divorce documents."

He snatched the flask from her hand and staggered out into the rain. "I am not following you. I actually was here first. I was trying to get nice and drunk."

"I think you have succeeded." She avoided looking at him, choosing to stare at her feet instead.

"Nope. Not nearly. If I were really truly drunk then the divorce papers that the woman I love served me with today, would be nothing but a distant memory. Poof gone. But nope, they are still here," he said tapping his temple for emphasis. "So not drunk enough, baby." He took another long gulp from his flask, smiling as the liquor eased down his throat.

Mercedes 's head shot up, with a hand on her hip in annoyance, she glared. "According to you drinking is what got us into this mess in the first place. A wise person would have tried to sober up and get hold of his life. But no one can ever call Sam Evans wise, can they?"

"No they cannot. I am most definitely not wise. Far from it. I'm an idiot, through and through. Now if you would excuse me I need to get a refill." He turned the flask upside down, indicating its emptiness, before pivoting and heading toward the rear parking lot.

"Where the hell do you think you are going?" she asked running behind him, in the soaking rain, her umbrella forgotten on the sidewalk.

"Re Fill," he responded without looking back. He fumbled in his pockets to find his car keys.

"You are not driving, you stupid, irresponsible ass."

"I'm perfectly fine to drive," he turned and shook his keys in her face, mocking her with each jingle. She tried to snatch them out of his hand, but he only raised his arm higher out of her reach. "You're going to have to work harder than that to stop me Mercedes. Nothing is getting in between me and my scotch. Not even the sight of you jumping up and down with your top clinging to you like that." He licked his lips slowly as his eyes focused on her heaving chest.

"You're such a pig," she retorted as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What did I ever see in you?"

"I ask myself that question every day," he said sadly as he turned his back to her and strode over to his car.

She came up behind him so quietly; he almost didn't know she was there, but her perfume, that sweet floral fragrance that always intoxicated him, alerted him of her presence.

"Sam please don't do this," her hand covered his as he attempted to unlock the car.

Sam stilled at her touch, staring at her small brown hand over his. It was so warm and it took all of his strength not to turn and take her hand into his own. Just the chance to hold that small part of her made him shudder with an all-consuming need. He missed her so much.

"I'm not going to let you do this to me again. Your constant need to mess up my life with your idiotic antics makes me want to scream. Take out your damn phone and call Figgins. Or I will call the cops."

She patted him down, in search of his cell phone. As her hands glided down his hips, dipping into his pockets, he closed his eyes and focused on her touch. It had been months since she had been this close to him. He could smell her hair; feel her warm breath surrounding him even in the chill of the rain. When her hands roamed over his chest to check the inside of his suit jacket, he could stand no more. He pushed her away, hoping the physical space between them would hide his body's response to her proximity.

"Why would I call my butler Figgins? It is not like I live there anymore." He fixated on the keys that she now had in her hand. How had she managed to snag his car keys?

"What do you mean you don't live there? It's your home."

"No my home was with you, but you kicked me out. Did you expect me to go back to my dad's place where we got married? Where all I would do is sit and be haunted by memories of you?"

"Sam…I didn't -" She reached out and stroked the lapel of his jacket, as she turned her beautiful brown eyes toward him, searching his face, like she always did. A few days ago he would have done anything to have her touching him and looking at him again like this, but this was false, it was nothing but pity, and he didn't need it. Not from her, not from anyone. She decided they weren't worth a second chance, so he was just going to deal with it. He would manage. It is not like he hadn't been here in this same situation before. They always leave.

He jerked back from her abruptly, his brows knitted in anger. "Just save it Mercedes. I know you don't care. Anyway I have a suite at the Beacon Hotel."

"Let me call you a cab."

"Can the fake concern Cede. The little document you had messengered to my office today said how you feel loud and clear. I get it. We're done. You want out. Just leave me alone."

"No." She stuck out her chin and pressed her lips into a firm pout.

Sam knew that look, she meant business. She was always so sexy when she stood her ground. A flash of him pushing her against the car, hands sliding through her hair, nibbling down the column of her throat, kissing her senseless dashed across his mind.

"No?" he asked almost softly as he drifted closer to her face. He wanted to lean over and taste that pout.

"I will take you home, I mean to your hotel. Let me just call Shane –"

"Shane? What the fuck are you calling that asshole for?" Talk about a cold shower on his mood.

"You need to watch your mouth Sam. Shane and I have a date tonight."

"A date?"

"Yes a date."

"Oh I get it. I see now," he said pacing in circles in front of her as he spoke. His hands frantically running through his dirty blond hair as he grew more and more agitated. "Was this your plan all along? Get rid of me and climb into bed with Dr. Doofus?"

"I am not going to discuss my personal life with you,"

"Oh I think you better start discussing Cede. You're still my wife. And I'm not going to let you screw around on me," he growled.

"Let me? You have some nerve. You cheat on me and lie to me about it for months, yet I'm not allowed to have dinner with a friend?"

"A friend, yeah right."

"Yes a friend, one that is honest, and caring, and puts me first."

"Shane is a real prince."

"He definitely is. I think I deserve someone who isn't a screwed up jackass for once."

Pain flickered over Sam's face at her words. His first impulse was a quick retort, but even in his hazy state he knew he didn't have a leg to stand on. She was right. On all counts.

"I'm going to go," he said as he brushed past her.

"I have your keys, moron. Where do you think you're going?"

He kept walking at a steady pace, never looking back, toward the main road.

"Sam!"

He continued to walk in the now pouring rain never once acknowledging her calls. He just needed to get away from her. If only he could get away from his own thoughts. Scotch. He hastened his pace at the thought of getting more drunk.

"Damn jackass," Mercedes muttered under her breath as she opened the door to his Jaguar with his keys. Before she could start the car, Shane pulled into the parking space beside her, rolling down the window as he came to a stop.

"Mercedes what's going? Are you leaving?"

"Hey, Shane. I, uh, sort of have an emergency to tend to. So I need to go."

"Mercedes wait." Shane got out of the car and came over to her and wedged his large body in the crack of the open car door. "I'm sorry I'm late." He softened his tone and smiled.

"It's okay," Mercedes replied with a shy smile.

"I have been looking forward to tonight all day. Actually longer than that. You're finally free."

Mercedes bowed her head unable to meet his eyes. This was supposed to be the night she celebrated her divorce from Sam. She was finally going to get on with her life and start a new chapter. Somehow the mood to party hadn't quite struck.

"Uh Shane, how much longer are you going to be?" asked a voice from behind them.

"Just a minute Rachel."

"You brought Rachel with you?"

"I came up on her on the side of the highway. She had a flat tire and no spare, so naturally I had to help her out."

"Naturally," Mercedes said flatly.

"I just need to get her home and we can get going."

"You do what you have to do Shane. I need to handle some business of my own."

Roughly shoving Shane out of the open space between the car and the door, she climbed fully into the car. Starting it up and closing the door in one swift motion, Mercedes didn't even look up to see Shane standing there slack jawed as she backed out of the parking lot.

Hair sticking to her face and her pulse racing she set the car off in the direction Sam had teetered in. He actually brought Rachel? What is it with the men in her life and these supermodel bimbos? OK so she knew what it was that attracted them, they were drawn to those perky little boobs and flat stomachs like a moth to a flame. Mercedes could not compete in that department, not even close. Which made her wonder just what exactly did Shane see in her? Or Sam for that matter. They both said it was about her spirit, her sense of humor, a connection they felt. But all that clearly did not make her enough for them. Did not make her someone they could be faithful to and fully satisfied with.

From the moment she had met Sam she had known he was out of her league. He was rich, charismatic, gorgeous and she was a poor little brat trying to live by her wits and her assets, no matter how small they indeed were. An hourglass figure, albeit an ample one and a sharp tongue didn't go very far up against Barbie doll clones and bimbos. Yet Mercedes had forged on, pursuing Sam with a vengeance and passion she never even knew she had within her. There was just something about him. She just knew deep down in her soul that once Sam stopped and gave her a chance they would be an unbeatable team. After a foray into amateur porn, corporate espionage, and a totally shattered heart later, Sam finally came around. She got her man. Lucky her. He proceeded to cheat on her with his diva pop singing ex, Quinn Fabray. She should have heeded Beiste's advice and just left him alone. No one could wrap Sam Evans around their finger or wrap themselves around his heart.

She spotted him in the distance, walking briskly in the steady rain. His slight limp seemed more pronounced as he hurried along the shoulder of the road. Mercedes pulled up the car alongside him and rolled down the passenger seat window.

"Sam get in." He didn't even look her direction when she called out to him. Sam walked on as if no one had spoken to him at all.

Mercedes trailed slowly beside him, rain falling into the car, drenching the seat. "Sam stop being a butthead. Get your ass into this car!"

She was wet, tired and cold. Why must this man complicate every facet of her life? She couldn't even go out for a celebratory dinner without him somehow messing it all up. She should have been sitting across the table from Dr. Tinsley at BreadStix. Making small talk about the hospital and flirtatiously laughing at his jokes. Her mind was supposed to be finally free of Sam tonight. All thoughts of his sexy full lips and pretty green eyes purged from her mind. She should have known better to think that would be in the cards for her tonight, or any night for that matter. Ever since she stepped foot into Lima, her life had been one big series of accidents, failures, and complications, and the man walking outside her car at this moment was at the heart of the majority of them.

With an exasperated sigh she swerved the car suddenly to the right into the shoulder of the road cutting Sam off.

"Hey!" He jumped back suddenly. "You almost hit me with that thing." She had his attention now.

"You better get in this car now or I am going to pin you under it."

He leaned into the open window, rain dripping from his hair, falling into his eyes, his lips. "You would love that wouldn't you Cede? Me completely out of the picture so you can be free to go diddle your little doctor."

"Did you just say diddle?"

Sam's words started to slur together and his southern drawl became more pronounced as the alcohol and his emotions began to take control. "You two have probably been hooking up all this time. Romps in the supply closet, secret meetings in Beiste's kitchen…were you lying to me Cede? Were you sleeping with him the whole time we were together? Did you always want him instead of me Mercedes?"

Tears stung in her eyes as he poked holes in her carefully crafted armor. The fact that she had given Sam any reason to doubt her love for him because of Shane was her biggest regret. It never failed to make her feel like scum whenever she thought about it.

Seething, Mercedes put her foot on the gas moving the car forward causing Sam to fall to the ground on his butt. If he wanted to be a jerk, he could do it alone. She didn't have to stick around for all his drunken accusations. He was the cheater, not her. Tears blurred her vision as she sped away.

A mile down the road she stopped. Hastily wiping the tears from her face and running her hands through her damp and now frizzy hair she yelled. "Damn you, Sam Evans!" Loud and explosive, releasing all the pent up emotions she had for the man she left on the side of the road.

A few deep breaths, and a glance in the rearview mirror to check if she looked as awful as she felt. She did. Red puffy eyes, ashy skin and her black hair plastered about her face. She was a disaster – inside and out.

"Get a grip girl. You can handle this," she said softly to herself. The emotional pep talk was a lame attempt at bolstering her courage, but she had to try. She couldn't spend the entire night stalled in the middle of Lima Highway 40 crying her eyes out.

Even at her lowest, Mercedes never wallowed. She was strong and proud, and she would never let anyone see her crumble. She had always lived that way. And that wasn't about to change now. Shifting the car into reverse, her eyes trained on the rearview, she made her way back down the road, stopping in front of a dark, wet lump on the side of the road.

"Give me your hand." Sam looked up to see a small outstretched arm above him. The rain was still steady and the road was dark but that arm seemed to almost glow. "It's cold and it's wet. You have two seconds to grab my hand, so I can help you up, or I'm calling your brother Will."

He grabbed her hand roughly and hoisted himself up off the cold pavement. "Oh you would just love that wouldn't you? Having Will haul me in for being drunk and disorderly."

"Would be the highlight of my year actually," she said over her shoulder as she tried to drag his 6 foot 170lb frame back to her car. "I live to see my husband making an ass of himself every chance he gets."

"Won't be a concern of yours for long," he muttered under his breath.

"Very true. We will be free of each other soon. Finally done." she added softly bowing her head as the words seemed to echo in the air.

Sam could feel the heat of her hand bleeding into his. She had yet to let him go as she pulled him along. He purposely dug his heels into the earth a bit more, made her work even harder to tug him forward, just to prolong the contact. He was a bastard, and he knew it. But he wasn't going to let the opportunity to be this close to her pass.

"Keep kidding yourself Mercedes. You may get your divorce. You may be free of me. But never in a million years will we be done."

She stopped short at his words, turning to face him, causing him to lunge forward, falling into her petite frame. Mercedes liked to think she was a big girl. Always going on about having too many curves and too much extra flesh, but Sam liked her body, actually he loved it. She was solid in his arms, but soft enough to get lost in, her large breasts and full hips were straight out of his childhood dreams. But her 5'2 was nothing against his long and lean 6 foot frame of tight muscle. Sam worked out hard and had the body to show for it. Tightly wound muscle, with his six pack abs, and perfectly sculpted arms. So he caught his weight on the side of the car, trapping her between his body and the car.

She writhed beneath him, trying to budge his rock hard body from its position. He leaned in closing the gap completely between them, her body pinned against his. He could feel every inch of her against him. He shut his eyes for a moment and just savored the forced intimacy.

He shifted closer, warm breath tickling her ear. Mercedes' damp hair across his cheek, her small hands splayed across his chest pushing against him. Sam hadn't felt this alive in weeks. He moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue, so close to her ear that he swore he could hear her pulse pounding.

"Sam get off of me now." she rasped.

Her voice was breathy and he knew he was getting to her. She was relaxing into him, letting her body mold with his.

He trailed feather light kisses just below her ear, to her jaw bone, dragging his lips across her cheek he pulled back and looked into her deep brown eyes, which were lidded, with what he knew was desire. She was his and he knew just what spots made her relent. Almost imperceptibly Mercedes leaned in, anticipating his lips to end their fevered journey on hers. He inched closer slowly moving his gaze from her eyes to her soft full lips.

"Sam," she purred. "Get off of me."

"Make me," he dared as he captured her mouth in his.