Everyone. Leaves.

JOURNIES

            Sam startled when he saw Marley in her fur outfit.  She reminded him of someone from a savage land comic, but as cool as that thought was, he was reminded of who generally wore fur to keep warm while scavenging through the woods… wolves.  “Relax.  She isn’t a wolf,” Kurt told him. 

“I AM a wolf.  I’m sure that at this point, every living person has to be… but I’m a wolf who hunts wolves.  You know how that is,” she told Sam.  He simply nodded, with a confused face.  No, he didn’t, but… something was off about her and he didn’t want to argue.  He just wanted to keep an eye on her.

“Marley, enough talk,” Kurt said and took the items that she brought into the dungeon with her off of her hands.

“You’ll survive better with me there,” she told Kurt.

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Don’t Make Me Over 26

            Typically, Stevie was not prone to bouts of anger or outbursts.  Aside from his arguments with Stacey, he hardly ever raised his voice or became outwardly inflamed.  His anger generally produced brooding.  He wasn’t sure why Jonesy’s words irritated him so… maybe because she knew Sheila better than he did and if SHE had doubts… maybe they were warranted…  He didn’t like to think that. 

            Since he first began talking to Sheila, all he wanted was for things to not only work between them, but to be great.  Some part of him wanted to save her, even though he didn’t fully understand what from.  That was a mistake, on his part; he knew that.  There was no such thing as heroes and if there were, he would hardly be a candidate for such a role.  But, with her – he just couldn’t help himself. 

            The day that they met, he noticed her long before she even realized that he was around.  She had been managing her move with professionalism and this bossy air about her that was cute but concise.  But, she would also pause to clown with her friend Cameo and go back and forth in playful arguments with her friend Shadonza.  She was business-minded, but also socially capable.  However, Stevie noticed almost immediately that her demeanor changed completely when she interacted with a man.  She didn’t become rude or less capable – but she became noticeably distant, detached.  Someone had hurt her… some man, he was pretty sure of it.  And when she told him about it, not wanting to beat around the bush, he handled it calmly.  He didn’t know her then.

            It was terrible that it happened, but he had the same level of response that he might to hearing about something that happened in the news.  It sucks, but it didn’t really touch his life.  That was an embarrassing truth about him.  Stevie hardly cared about the things that happened to the people outside of his family and few friends.  It just seemed exhausting to care about things that one couldn’t change, or to try to change things and have that be the death of you.  No…  Stevie reserved his concern for the people closest to him, to those important to him.  It didn’t take Sheila long to be etched onto that short list.

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Mistakes Have Been Made

            Jacob was being quite a little bastard.  Mercedes couldn’t think of any other way to word it.  When Sam was at the comic book shop, if he talked to her for a little while, Jacob would hover and remind her that while Sam didn’t work for him, she did.  Sam stepped to him one day, but she quickly deescalated it, reminding Sam that she didn’t have two jobs, just this one… one that had something very important coming up very soon…  Sam backed off, but not before reminding Jacob, “She works for you.  You don’t own her.”

            Mercedes decided to sign on for a month to month lease when her lease ended in September, so that she wouldn’t have a long obligation.  She planned on moving in with Sam, but not until after the upcoming convention.  So she had a couple of months or so to get that situated.  Now, she credited the bastard behavior of Jacob to nervousness about the convention, until this day…

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Don’t Make Me Over 25

            Yet another month passed.  It hadn’t been drama laden, but it hadn’t exactly been drama-free.  Sam wouldn’t let her see the fairy tale book.  He had already decided that he wasn’t going to show it to her until Christmas day and that she wouldn’t see it again, until it was a finished product that he presented to Babycakes.  The plans for the Jones-Evans Christmas Holiday were going… as to be expected.  With people as different as the Jones and the Evans, Jonesy was pretty sure that if nobody was killed, then Christmas would be a complete success!  She still had a couple of days for that to fall through, though.

            She would have wanted to hold off for such a family gathering until the following Christmas, AFTER the birth of her child, “whose existence inside of me depends highly upon my welfare concerning the matters outside of me,” she told Maryvonne, when trying to postpone a two family Christmas; but she was met with Ryvie’s logic.

“I might be dead by next Christmas,” the woman said, silencing her daughter’s efforts in one sentence, instead of initiating an argument.  But, Mercedes drew the line at having her aunts and cousins there.  Just the Godfrey/Maryvonne household and the Dwight/Mary household, and that still would be a stressful gathering.  These were probably the most stressful holidays that she had experienced in a long time.

            It was also the most anticipated one that she had experienced, ever.  She was baking for her group therapy Christmas party and singing, as she did.  Mary gave her a few recipes, one of which, she was going to surprise Sam with on Christmas morning (gingerbread pancakes, his childhood Christmas favorite), which Mary insisted that she had to learn to make if she was going to bring the tradition into their new family.    Also, she had bought herself a few books right after Thanksgiving holiday, on discount.  Praise!

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Just needed to get this one out!

Don’t Make Me Over 24

Maryvonne tended to her yard for most of the day.  Sure, she had Howard to help with things around the house, but this had always been something that she enjoyed doing and she felt well enough to do it.  Afterwards, she made herself tea and settled at the kitchen island, enjoying it and reading news and events.  Sam called her while she was doing that and she picked up, “Yes, Sam?”

“Hi, Ryvie,” he said, curtly, then asked, “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, young man.  What is it that you need, today?”  She wondered.

“I know that you and Dr. Jones have lawyers and I’m simply wondering if I might get a referral for one?”  He asked.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?”  She asked.  If he was, he needed to be in it far away from her daughter.

“I’m concerned that Finn’s family might try to pull some kind of fast one and do something to take Babycakes from us, or even get us to share her.  Who wants to share their child with psychopaths?”  He said, with trembling in his voice.

“Oh, his family will be doing no such thing,” she said.  “Trust me.  Is that all that you needed?”  She wondered.

“No disrespect, Ryvie, but I feel like I need more than your word that this will be alright.”

“Well, I’ll give you more, soon,” she said.  She smiled, as though he could even see her and said, “If there’s nothing else?…”  She gave him about two seconds and hung up the phone.  Then, her smile completely disappeared and she set her tea down, as well as her notepad and dialed a number, “Sue Sylvester, please?  This is one of her clients, Maryvonne Jones.  Of course, I can hold.”

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There are things in this chapter that are done out of order, or not really out of order, but I do mention something and I don’t describe it until later in the chapter, and I’m just saying that now, in case it becomes confusing.  Let me know if there’s a problem and I’ll try to clear it up.  Thanks for reading/reviewing/private messages/tumblr support, etc! 

I said that there would be Samcedes good times for their getaway, but unfortunately; I am a person who can’t seem to get to that place without crossing over swamps of angst first, so… yeah, there’s that, too…

The Retreat

He’d rented a place that was far enough from Marley’s rental that she wouldn’t bother him this weekend, but close enough that if he was NEEDED, she could make the drive over.  His was a better location, more secluded than the one that she had chosen.  He left his temporary contact info with Stacie and Dwight, because the cellular phones were generally useless out here, and he took her into the place, just the two of them – no family, no friends, no dogs… 

Mercedes was sitting still, near a window, timid about things, because she and Sam hadn’t had the best start up on this little trip.  He was probably still angry with her for something earlier, but she couldn’t change the past and she hoped that if she was silent enough and remained still and out of his way, he would have time to think and to forgive her.  She decided to test it out, by commenting, “It’s extremely quiet, here,” she said.  “Like – I hear all kinds of noises, but still, everything feels so… contained.”

“Everything is,” he said and wrapped his arms around her, from behind.  She touched them, gingerly and smiled into his skin.  He’s at least going to be nice, now.  Earlier, he was pretty pissed.

“I’m glad that we came out here,” she told him.

“I am too.  I can’t be the only one of us that takes a break from an otherwise hectic schedule.  We’re stocked up with essentials.  Family knows how to reach us if anything urgent comes up and Marley is just a few miles away, if we happen to need her.”

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Next chapter, some Samcedes by the lake nice times, amongst other things.  Mostly, Samcedes by the lake nice times…  Sorry about the long pauses between updates, but there should be another chapter up, soon, K?  Love y’all!

The Rustle

            Back to normal. Back to normal… that was all that she wanted to do – to get back there!  But how could she ever?  Her “normal” had been shifted, and Emma was not making it any easier.  She wished that Puck was around.  When he was, it didn’t matter when her normal shifted, because he took care of everything else and made her normal feel that same old normal.  God, she still missed him, so much.  She felt guilty about it.  It would hurt Sam, if he knew, but she couldn’t help who she missed.  Puck had been one of her best friends for most of her life.  “Are you alright?”  She heard Emma ask.

“Yeah, how about you?”  She answered.  Emma probably was going to say something sassy or obnoxious.  She had been extremely disagreeable lately.

Emma looked at the plate in front of her and said, “They gave me ranch again, instead of blue cheese dressing.”

“So, you’re not gonna eat it?”  Mercedes asked.

“I don’t like ranch.  I’ve told them,” she said.

Mercedes waved over someone and asked, “Does anyone see me?”

“He’s pretending that he doesn’t,” Emma said.  “But, he’s looking right at us.  He knows that you can’t see.  He knows that I’m…  He thinks that I’m not all there…”  Mercedes heard shuffling.

“Emma?”  She called, but the woman didn’t answer, then she heard commotion.  “Marley!”  Mercedes called.  She reached into her bag for her phone.  Marley was supposed to be right back!  She had to make a quick phone call and visit the ladies’ room and she was going to come right back to the table!

“I am so sorry,” she heard Marley saying.

“Marley?  Where’s Emma?”  She asked, but they were too far from her for Marley to hear the question.

“Get them out of here!”  She heard a man’s voice snap.

“Right away,” Marley said, reaching for Mercedes’ hand.

“Marley?  What happened?”  Mercedes wondered.

“Emma poured blue cheese dressing on the waiter’s head,” Marley said.

“It wasn’t blue cheese,” Emma corrected.

“Emma…”  Mercedes sighed, “You can’t do that.”

“Yes, I can.  I can and I did and I feel very good about it.  I’m glad that I made that choice.  Can I have a salad with some blue cheese dressing, for real, now?”  She asked.

“Yeah, but we have to get it from somewhere else.  We’re being kicked out,” Mercedes said, finding Emma’s hand.

“I know that, Mercy.  Despite what all of you think, I have very good understanding.”  Emma said, chuckling.  Then, Mercedes heard her say, “Bye, Mister Waiter!”

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Don’t Make Me Over 23

Why am I always watching some depressing stuff?  Jonesy sniffled as Stacey yawned and complained, “I have no idea how you watch these movies!  They’re so SLOW and BORING!”

“These movies are classics.  I grew up watching these,” Jonesy said.  Sam was asleep on the floor.

“The first one started out okay, then there was a lot of unnecessary.  The effects were okay, for how old it freakin’ was.  The second one – I don’t even know how I remained awake for any of it.  It was godawful and the best thing about this one so far is the old lady calling chocolate mousse ‘chocolate mouse.’”

“Um, the first one, The Exorcist is one of the scariest movies ever made, the second one The Omen, is one of my personal favorites, even though it’s so depressing, and for some reason, every time I watch that, I have to watch Rosemary’s Baby, too.  You know, on The Omen remake, this chick that plays Rosemary played Mrs. Baylock, the nanny.”

“I’m here for old lady chocolate mouse and old lady chocolate mouse, only.  I’m glad that I didn’t let you talk me into The Omen marathon.  I don’t know if I could’ve handled more of those bore fests.”

“These are my dramas, Stacey.  Let me live,” Jonesy said, taking a sip of juice.

“Dramas?”  Stacey repeated, laughing.  “Um, aren’t they supposed to be horrors?”

“Yeah, but I grew up on horror.  They don’t frighten me.  They actually are pretty sad when you think about the parts that aren’t demonic.”

“I am so confused,” Stacey said.

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I don’t mean to spend so much time on this Thanksgiving holidays portion, but a lot happens here, so, I hope you can enjoy.

I have to dedicate this chapter to my fanfiction babymama, Zeejack, because this story has been almost as much her baby as it has been mine and a recent PM I got from her inspired the end of this particular chapter.  Love you so much, Girl!

Don’t Make Me Over 22

“Why don’t you tell me why it is that you seem to think that your relationship with Mercedes isn’t real?”  Dwight asked, setting out a few necessities for the cooking session.  Sam chuckled a little bit.  As a child, he always loved watching his father in the kitchen.  He was like a way cooler version of one of those cooking programs on television.  He set everything out, announced what everything was and gave instructional steps the entire time.  It was great to watch him do this smoothly, still makes jokes and even kiss on Mary or toss one of his kiddos into the air.  He even sometimes let them add in the next ingredient.  Cooking with Dad was a fun time.  Sam wasn’t sure if he wanted to ruin that special part of his life with this kind of talk.

            When Sam didn’t reply, Dwight sighed, sympathetically and said, “Why don’t you melt the butter in the big saucepan for me.  I’ll pass you along the stuff to add into it.”  Sam complied.  He felt kind of like little boy again.  Sometimes, he wish that life was as simple as it had been as a child.  He couldn’t imagine what was going through his dad’s head as he looked at him that way, but soon enough, he would probably have similar looks.  In a short period of time, he was going to sort of be a dad, himself.  And… it sometimes felt kinda fucked up.  “You need to add in your onion juice, the garlic juice, hot sauce, Worcestershire sauce, black pepper, red pepper, and Daddy’s all-time favorite…”

“Double Bastard Ale,” Sam said.

“Double. Bastard. Ale.”  Dwight finished his own sentence, for extra measure.  “While you blend that up real good, I’ll work on some other thins myself.  Still waiting on the answer to that question, Sammy.”

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