Glee 1. Chapter 1

**AN: Chapter is T**

"Just remember: the dogs need to be fed twice a day and they'll just bug you when you need to let them out. The key is under the mat and you have my cell phone number in case anything happens."

Sam Evans nodded at these rushed instructions being spoken to him as the owner of the house, a one Mrs. Amy Satmary, stormed out of the modest home and ran to the taxi waiting to take her to the airport. Waving one last goodbye to the older businesswoman as she was driven away, Sam walked back into the house and headed straight to the living room before jumping onto the first leather couch he saw and making himself right at home.

Sam Evans had fallen in love with Los Angeles, even when his family said he wouldn't. As a transplant from Nashville, he was a country boy trying to play off being a city slicker by taking as many jobs as he could. When he wasn't working at his part time job as a trainer at one of the hottest gyms in L.A., he was dogwalking, babysitting, and his favorite odd job: housesitting.

The perks of the job were incredibly obvious to Sam as he rummaged in the giant stainless steel refrigerator for a Gatorade. Instead of staying in his tiny one bedroom apartment that cost way more than it should every night, he got to spend a week, maybe two, in a mini-mansion where he slept in luxury. Instead of buying his own food that was barely enough to feed him for the week, Sam ate as much as he want, though he still had restrictions to keep his physique in shape. One downside were the pets he sometimes had to take care of, but usually the animals were okay and the pool, free utilities, and the fact that he got paid at the end of the day made it all worth it.

Sam had just found the Gatorade he was looking for when one of the dogs, he forgot the names already pouted up at him, big black eyes trying to tell him something. Watching as the dog headed for the double glass doors that lead to the patio and pool in this mini-mansion he was staying for the week, Sam opened the doors and let the dog run around as he admired the sight in front of him, all of Los Angeles right at his feet. That's when he heard it.

It wasn't too loud, but he could still make out two voices, two distinct voices, two distinct girl voices. Following the noise to his left, the voices became giggling and soon were mixed in with the sounds of water splashing and some babble from the radio, the newest hit song that he heard at his gym too. Singing along with the track, Sam followed the voices to the fence before realizing that he wasn't too sure if he wanted to know what was on the other side of the fence. His mind had already created a Hustler image of what was going on the other side and now he wasn't sure if he wanted to ruin it. That's when he heard the conversation begin.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?"

"Q, relax. I'm, like practically dating the guy. Or just sleeping with him. Whatever."

"Santana!" The shocked voice was soon followed by the sound of splashing and laughter again, before the laughter died down.

"San, I really don't think we should be here though." The first voice seemed so serious, Sam thought to himself. Why was she so serious?

"Q, like I told you. We're good. He's out of town for the week and he needed someone to watch his place. Said his neighbor gets someone to watch her place all the time when she and the hubby are out of town."

"I'm kinda shocked you're still with this guy. San, I was pretty sure you were into girls." Sam almost spit out his Gatorade at the revelation of the second voice's sexuality, no matter how hesitant the first voice sounded.

Sam was waiting for some outrage from the second voice, some kind of emotion, but instead Sam could almost hear the shrug as the second voice replied, "A girl gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

Resisting the urge to speak back to the voice for all men around the world, the second voice spoke again.

"I mean, it's hard being a working model out here. Cut me some slack. At least these bad boys are good for something."

With Sam eye's widening at what he thought she was talking about, his thoughts were confirmed when the first voice muttered, "Because you bought them."

"Whatever," the second voice replied dismissively. "Still the best decision I ever made. You might want to consider a pair. Would probably get you farther in the acting world."

Sam was learning more and more about these girls as he stood by the fence quietly, trying to not think about how creepy he must look if anyone else could see him.

"Sorry Santana, but I prefer being natural, all natural."

Practically hearing the second girl rolling her eyes, Sam was pretty sure she was one of those fiery Latina women his father had warned him about, he heard some more movement in the pool.

"Speaking of all natural, where is Britt?"

Hearing a light groan coming from the first girl, Sam got closer to the fence, this time turning around to see if he could catch a peek at the voices of what he thought must be some hot girls.

"I thought whatever you two had finished in high school." Sam swallowed hard, so hard he was sure his gulp was audible. Jackpot.

"Well she says it's done," the second girl clarified, the words being followed by the sound of someone leaving the pool. "But a girl can dream."

With the sound of footsteps getting farther away, he could barely make out the voice saying, "I'll check if she's in the kitchen on her phone trying to text Lord Tubbington again."

Confused as to why someone would name their kid Lord Tubbington, Sam didn't realize the branch near his foot until he was tripping over it and landing face first on the ground, making a lot more noise than he wanted.

Hearing a gasp coming from the other side of the fence, it had taken Sam a few minutes to gather his bearing and stand up again. He was in the middle of brushing himself off when the fence door opened slightly, a pair of hazel eyes staring at him from behind the door. The door opened more and the owner of the hazel eyes was revealed to him. Even wrapped up in a towel and her dark blonde hair sopping wet, she was gorgeous. Sam was trying to figure out if she was the actress or the model because for him, it could have been either.

"Can I help you, sir?" the girl in front of him asked, Sam recognizing her to be the first voice he had heard.

Sam hadn't planned at all for this, for being caught. "Uh," he sputtered out, his accent making him sound like a doofus. Smooth, he thought to himself. "I'm sorry, ma'am," Sam began, turning on the southern charm that seemed to help him a lot out here in the big city. "I thought I heard some girls in trouble. Some screams in the pool." Sam wasn't completely lying, he rationalized with himself. He had heard some screaming earlier, just not screams of fear.

"We're fine," the girl replied briskly, Sam almost feeling a chill from the cold shoulder. He was trying his hardest to remember what the other girl had called her earlier, a letter that was unusual. Y? Z? W? The girl began closing the door on him when he heard a third voice begin to speak, pausing all the action around him. "Is that the cable guy? Because Lord Tubbington and I need to watch the discovery channel so he can remember his natural habitat."

Sam just stood awkwardly as the smaller blonde turned back to the girl, her hand still on the door.

"Why would he be the cable guy? That doesn't even…not important." Turning back to face him, he saw the towel drop from her hands more, revealing more of a white bikini before forcing his eyes back to hers. "He's just leaving, isn't he?" This was not a request, Sam realized instantly, but a command. A command that Sam was finding himself more and more willing to follow the more he started staring into his eyes. Wow, her eyes, Sam thought to himself, not realizing that he was slowly backing away from the fence.

The spell seemed to be broken the moment he heard another voice arrive back and he found out his suspicions were correct, the second voice? Definitely a Hispanic girl.

"Q, leave the poor boy alone," the girl said, moving right next to the blonde. Remembering her name as Santana, Sam definitely figured she was the model with the fake boobs, the ones that seemed to be wanting to greet him from how little her bathing suit top was.

"Stop trying to scare the guest." Sam gulped loudly at the way Santana said this and the way she was looking at him, like he was a piece of meat and she was a hungry lioness waiting to rip him to shreds.

"You're scrumptious," she purred, leaning against the doorframe of the fence, becoming more like the image in his head.

"And you're a lesbian," the blonde said again, Q now that he knew her name, or at least her initial.

With a slight pout, the latina rolled her eyes, muttering, "It's okay. I didn't want the trouty mouth anyway," before walking back into the pool area, her hips swishing as she walked.

Sam immediately hid his lips when he was reminded about the part about himself he hated the most. Watching Q's façade crack slightly, Sam began to speak, his accent coming through. "I should leave y'all alone. Like you said earlier, I was just leaving."

Turning around, Sam tried to make himself forget about the unholy trinity of girls in the house next to him when he heard someone call out, "Wait."

Facing the neighbor's house again, he saw Q still standing at the open door, a small frown on her face that he was sure she was trying to hide. "I'm sorry. About San. She really is Satan sometimes." Hearing a "HEY!" in the background, Sam watched as the first peek of a smile appeared on Q's face. "I'm Quinn," she introduced herself, holding her hand out to shake his. "I was rude before not to introduce myself. I'm not used to meeting strangers in backyards."

Following his own chuckle at her joke, Sam extended his hand to meet hers. "Sam Evans, at your service," hoping his smile would relax the tense girl. "I guess we're gonna be neighbors for a week," Sam said before thinking about what he had just revealed.

"I _knew_ something was behind the fence. I knew it!" Quinn said loudly, trying to look serious but bursting out in to a bit of a giggle. Nodding her head, Quinn stated, "Since you seem to already know, yes, here for a week."

With both of them turning their heads at the sound of someone splashing into the pool followed by the reappearance of the other blonde in the water, Sam waited for Quinn to turn back to face him. "Santana you've already met and Brittany is the other girl here, the one who called you a cable guy. Yeah, she means well."

Sam watched the girl in front of him, not completely hearing her as she spoke. Her blonde hair was long and thick, probably a lighter blond especially with the water darkening it. Despite what was hidden by the towel, he was sure she had a rocking body, especially since she was supposed to be an actress. Her eyes were amazing, no doubt about it, but her nose, her lips, her legs, everything seemed amazing.

"I should get going," Quinn finally said, motioning back to her friends where Santana seemed to be getting to close to Brittany. "I'll see you around, I guess?"

Sam nodded, adding a "Definitely," before grinning broadly at the pretty girl in front of him. "I mean, if you ever need something, let me know. Like if you have something heavy that needs to be lifted or.. something." Sam could kick himself for being so awkward and he could see the look in Quinn's eyes as she slowly began to close the door, nodding quickly.

"Bye Sam," she called out before the wooden fence door slammed shut, the sound of hushed whispering following.

Turning back to the house, the dog that had caused all this trouble reappeared, waiting anxiously at the door to be reopened. Doing as the dog wished, Sam walked into the air-conditioned living room and collapsed on a couch again, this time only thinking about the girl next door.

**AN: So the oneshot I thought I was doing is now turning into a multi-chapter! This is my first one and I'm a little hesitant about how this all sounds so far so reviews will help immensely! The more reviews, the faster I'll write chapter two! So please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: T rated chapter**

Sam hadn't seen the girl next door in _days_. Well actually 2 days, not that he was counting or anything. In reality, he had been busy those two days since he had met his neighbors for the week. Between work, hanging out with his friends, Puck and Mike, and doing whatever was needed around the house, Sam didn't have much time to think about the girl with the hazel eyes, but the little time he did have to himself was spent thinking about her.

When he was walking the dogs, every girl who walked by him, the ones he would ogle when they weren't looking, now lacked in comparison. No girl had her eyes or her hair or her smile or her laugh. Sam had no idea why this girl had mesmerized him that quickly, but she did and it was killing him that there was no trace of her in that long, especially with the limited time that he had. He didn't want to admit that he was only there for a week, that he wasn't living in that house that he wished he could own one day. Maybe that would make it easier when they would finally have to go their separate ways.

It was only irony that the one free moment that wasn't spent thinking about her would be the one where she would show up. Sam had been on the couch, his eyes focused on the dull movie in front of him as he wondered why he was housesitting in the one household without a decent sci-fi collection when he heard light knocking on the door. Tilting his head at the golden retriever next to him as the dog did the same back to him, Sam forced himself off the couch as he wondered if he should put on a shirt before answering the door. His shirtlessness had helped him before when Jehovah's Witnesses arrived at the door ready to talk to him so he thought it would be the best idea to keep it off, just in case they came back for a second round of "Convert the non-believer."

"I'm really not interested in what you're selling so if you could please leave that would be-," Sam had begun to say, opening the giant wooden door of the house before looking down and not finding a middle aged mom in her early 40's from the suburbs with bible in hand but a 20 something blonde in a yellow sundress with her eyebrow raised.

"So you want me to leave?" Quinn asked, cautiously with Sam already kicking himself in the ass for not looking before speaking.

"No no no no, I mean if you want to, yeah, but no, I mean," Sam rambled for a few moments before he stopped talking altogether . "Hi."

"Hi… Sam. I'm Quinn from next door. We met the other day, right?," Quinn replied after a few moments, Sam reading in her eyes that she had no idea what to do.

With Sam nodding quicker than he wanted to, he waited for Quinn to start speaking again as he watched a small smile appear on her face.

"So," Sam started after a few moments of awkward silence, just realizing that the girl in front of him had come over to the house for a reason, one that didn't involve selling bibles.

"So," Quinn started, pausing with a slight giggle, "I was wondering if you could help me out with something."

"Anything," Sam replied immediately, not exactly sure what the girl wanted. Sam watched as her eyes drifted over his chest and down to his taut and muscled stomach and knew she was looking at him up and down. "Quinn," Sam called, watching her eyes pop back up to his. "What do you need help with?"

Clearing her throat, it looked like the girl was trying to retain her composure in front of him.

"Well San, you remember Santana, the scary one, she's watching Shark Week right now, something about helping her relive her natural hunter. I don't know. Anyway she's watching that and it's scaring Brittany a bit, so I volunteered to bake with her to get her mind off of it. We get to the kitchen," Quinn pausing to show what she had been hiding behind her back the entire conversation: a measuring cup, "and we have no sugar."

Sam's eyes went between the empty measuring cup and the girl slightly pouting in front of him for a few moments as he tried to figure out what she was saying.

"Oh! So you need some sugar?" Sam's eyes widened as he noticed this realization came a few minutes too late.

With the girl nodding in front of him slowly, Sam reached over to grab for the measuring cup and proceeding to close the door on the girl. It was only when he closed it did he feel like more of an idiot. Opening the door again, he saw Quinn's shocked face and began apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I don't know what I'm thinking. Come in." Opening the door wide, Sam felt like apologizing more for being rude and watched as the girl walked in, her head tilting around to adapt to the environment around her.

"So you live here?" Sam heard Quinn question, her head turned back to look at him.

Looking back on it later over dinner, Sam didn't know why he said what he did. Sam didn't know why he kept saying what he did, but once it started, it couldn't be stopped. Sam answered Quinn's question with one single word.

"Yes."

Sam didn't know if it was a trick of the eyes that made him see Quinn's eyes widened in surprised before going back to normal.

"Ah. So you're married?" Quinn asked, clarifying as she said, "Santana told me that the couple who lives here is married."

"Yes," Sam answered again, despite everything inside of him saying "NO! NO!"

Quinn's eyes seemed focus on the books in the bookcase as Sam waited for her answer, getting more and more nervous.

"You don't wear a wedding band," Quinn replied nonchalantly, her eyes still on the bookcase and not on him.

"Lost it." Sam lied quickly, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from talking more.

Quinn said nothing, only moving farther and farther away from him and the bookcase and toward the kitchen. "Sugar?" She asked, snapping Sam back to reality and the real reason that the blonde was here. "Oh yeah, sugar. It's in this cabinet." Walking over past the golden retriever into the kitchen, Sam reached for one of the cabinets and got the bag of sugar before realizing his state of dress, or rather undress.

"Give me a second," he called out, running over to the couch to slip on a grey wife beater. Sam was in the middle of putting the piece of fabric on when he heard Quinn speak.

"So your wife must trust you a lot to leave you alone like this. I'm assuming you're alone, right?"

With his shirt on and his hair messy, Sam's eyes met with the girl. Quinn was leaning against the island counter, her head tilted slighty and her eyes focused, as if examining him from top to bottom to see what made him tick.

"Yes," Sam continued to lie. "Business trip for the week. Couldn't join her this time." Swallowing hard, Sam walked back into the kitchen, this time reaching for the measuring cup and the sugar to do what needed to be done to get her out of the house. Sam realized how quickly this turn of events had changed his view of Quinn. One second he was basically willing with his mind for her to come over, and now that she was here, he couldn't stop himself from self-sabotaging before anything could even start.

"How much do you need?" Sam asked briskly, his eyes avoiding hers.

As if knowing something was up, Sam lifted his head when he heard Quinn ask, "You okay?" Sam could almost feel her eyes burning a hole into his skull waiting for him to turn back to face her.

"I'm just trying to figure out how much sugar you need," Sam replied politely, not wanting to let anything slip.

Sam didn't know where Quinn was walking to, only hearing her light footsteps around him until she was right in front of him, the counter being the only thing between them.

"I get it. You're married. It's okay. You can totally relax." Quinn said with a soft smile, her hands placed gently on the wooden counter.

"I'm not interested, Sam. I know what boundaries are and married, at least for me, is a boundary. I'm not Santana." Sam knew that by the way Quinn laughed and smiled that she was making fun of her friend and that it would be okay for him to smile too.

"We can be friends, Sam. Don't you want to be my friend?" Quinn teased as she leaned over the counter, Sam resisting to answer how much more he wanted to be her friend.

Only nodding and biting his tongue, Quinn smiled brightly as she moved over to grab the sugar bag from Sam, their fingers briefly mingling with each other.

"I'll take a cup of sugar," Quinn declared, Sam watching her focus so intently on making sure it was all perfect. "Just in case, Britt and I mess up, we don't need to disturb you any longer."

"Really, it was no problem," Sam cut in, not liking how Quinn felt she was disturbing him and hating that she thought she was a disturbance at all. With the cup of sugar in the girl's hand, Sam watched as she began to walk out of the kitchen and through the living room, heading for the front door.

"Wait," Sam called out, watching the girl turn back to face him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He could have told the truth at that exact moment, that he wasn't married, that he didn't live there, that he thought she was pretty, anything, _something_. But with those big eyes staring him down, wondering what he was about to say, Sam's manners took over.

"Let me walk you to the door," he mumbled, catching up to Quinn quickly and walking beside her and opening the door for her. With Quinn walking out, Sam was awkward and he knew it. With no ideas of where to put his hands, one was stuffed into his pocket as the other held the door open.

"Thank you for the sugar," Quinn said, Sam noticing her slightly looking away. Sam replied with a "You're welcome," and as she proceeded to turn and walk away, Sam saw his chances that were only slipping before now completely gone.

Until she stopped.

Turning back around, Sam's eyebrow quirked as Quinn slowly approached the house again, staying at the front porch. "I was going to ask before if you wanted to come join me and Britt, with the baking, I mean, I didn't think anyone was here and you must be bored, but you're married, so I'm sure you don't want to hang out with a couple of girls and bake and wow, I'm rambling." Quinn ducked her head in embarrassment as a slight flushed appeared on her cheeks.

"I can't," Sam heard himself speak, trying to figure out a way to shut himself up, or at least shut the lies. "Don't think the wife would approve." Nodding slightly, Sam watched for a millisecond a crack in Quinn's façade. A small disappearance of a smile that was quickly back before he could realize it.

"It's fine. I understand. Thank you again, Sam." Quinn quickly muttered, this time her turn and walking away much faster than before. Closing the door this time, Sam punched the door as soon as it was closed, not even minding the throbbing pain it caused. Why couldn't he keep his stupid mouth closed? Why didn't he just tell the truth? Maybe he didn't want to feel like a loser spending his time in a stranger's house, eating the stranger's food, living the stranger's life. Going back into the kitchen, Sam collapsed over the island Quinn had been standing out just a few moments ago, this time leaning against his elbows as he ran his hands over his face and hair. He was stupid. So stupid.

Before he could stop himself or make himself change his mind, Sam decided to follow what the small voice in his head was telling him. Grabbing the keys to the house, Sam ran out the front door, barely locking it behind him. He forwent the traditional route of using sidewalks and driveways, this time running through their connected yard, jumping over a bush or two in his way. When he was at the front door, he ran his hands through his hair, taking out a rampant branch before knocking at the door. Controlling his breathing so it didn't look like he had just leaped over a bush to get over here, he knew the surprise on Quinn's face was real.

"Sam!" She said with her pitch being higher than normal. "What are you doing here?"

Sam hoped he seemed at least semi-normal as he panted out, "Baking."

With Quinn's eyebrow raised, Sam tried to clarify. "Baking with you." When her eyes widened, Sam added, "and Brittany."

With Quinn nodding tentatively, as if believing he had just gotten wasted in the few moments since they had last seen each other.

"We can still bake and stuff now, if you want." Sam said when he could finally speak coherently. "I mean, I'm married, but we're just friends. No problem with it at all."

With his broad faced grin now almost matching the small one of Quinn's, it was Sam's turn to walk into the stranger's house, hoping he could keep up the lie a little longer now that wasn't on his home turf.

**AN: Thanks to all the people who put this story in their favorites, put it or me on their alerts or reviewed it! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! I don't want to be one of those people who demands reviews in exchange for chapters so I just want to ask for a lot of reviews! Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry for such the late update. Life got ahold of me and while I've had part of this chapter written for a while, I had a bit of writer's block as well. Anyway, here is the next chapter! Enjoy!**

When Quinn Fabray opened her door to find a flustered Sam Evans mumbling about baking, she was _thisclose_ to shutting the door on him, but stopped herself. She didn't think she could handle literally shutting the door on her crush now that the metaphorical door had been shut. Letting him inside and shutting the heavy wooden door behind her only reminded her of what happened just a few days before.

The moment she shut the wooden fence door, Quinn lip synched an "Oh my God!" to her best friends in the pool, not even minding that she had just used the Lord's name in vain. Using her hand to fan herself, it was Quinn's way of showing that she thought the boy that had just left them was cute, though cute wasn't the word Quinn had in her head. Sexy, handsome, and hot were better words for the blond boy that had just left. With her towel still wrapped around her tightly, Quinn motioned for Santana to come with her since she was watching Brittany more than occupied with a rubber duck she had found in the house.

"That boy," Quinn started, taking a deep breath to calm herself down as they walked into the living room of the mansion.

"Supermegafoxyhot, right?" Santana finished, as if reading the mind of the girl next to her. Quinn was about to flash the other girl a look and remind her of Santana's true sexual preference when the Latina girl replied, "I know I'm into girls, but he's still pretty. I think it's the lips." Quinn watched as the other girl rummaged around the refrigerator as her mind went back to the boy who was probably doing nothing next door. His hair was messy and blond and Quinn wondered for a moment how it would feel if she ran her fingers through them. He had an athletic physique, his biceps in his tight shirt showed that, but he wasn't using that to impress her which was different than the struggling actor wannabes she ran into on a daily basis. Quinn wondered if she was blushing and if she all that noticeable to her best friend in the room before it suddenly came crashing down.

"Too bad he's married."

"What?" Quinn asked softly, the simple 4 word sentence breaking her out of her daydream.

"Yeah, there is a couple next door, a **married** couple," Santana replied as if it was the simplest answer in the world. Watching Santana take a sip of her water, Quinn felt like pouting. She was used to getting everything she wanted and this time, the thing she might have wanted was something she couldn't play with.

"How do you know?" Quinn asked, eyebrow raised at her best friend's assumptions which were usually more correct than not.

"Duh, look at him, Quinn." Santana stopped to point in the direction of the house before speaking again. "Boys like that don't stay single." Jumping on top of the counter, Santana began picking at the orange in front of her, her eyes focused on peeling off the waxy skin. "And I know the couple next door is married because Richard and I have heard them in the middle of the night getting a little something something and well, you know how competitive I can be," finishing the sentence with a wink.

Quinn resisted the urge to throw up in her mouth a little as she tried to shake off the image that Santana had cast upon her.

"But have you seen them?" Quinn clarified, still hoping that somehow this would be the one time Santana Lopez was wrong about something. "Like seen him and his wife?"

With Santana's eyes still focused on her orange peel, Quinn watched as she shrugged and kept up with her busy work. "We both know I'm not the kind to shake hands and meet with the neighbors or anything." Stopping to take a bite out of the orange, Quinn waited as the other girl ate. "I mean, I'm the kind of guest that shows up late at night and leaves first thing in the morning, but" pausing again to throw away the leftover peel and wash her hands, "I don't need to see a wife to know what a married man looks like, and over there," pointing again to the house next door as she approached the sliding glass door, "is a married man."

Slipping out of the house again and back to the pool, Quinn was alone when the sadness crept in. Sure he was a guy she had barely just met, but he was still cute and it had been kind of funny to watch him squirm. She didn't want a crush on this unavailable man, but that didn't stop it from happening.

Quinn did her best in stopping all of her urges to show up at the house next door. If it were up to her, she would have shown up for any little thing, a box that needed lifting or a cabinet too high for her to reach, anything to just stare at his Adonis like features for a few stolen moments. It was two days later when she finally gave in. With Brittany not being able to find the sugar, Quinn decided to ask her friendly neighbor for some sugar. Isn't that what neighbors did?

Quinn's breath hitched when he admitted what Santana had thought. Quinn was so sure the Hispanic girl had been completely wrong in her assumptions. Now that it had all been confirmed, however, Quinn was determined to play nice and be the nice girl her parents had raised her to be back home in Bumfuck, Ohio, even if the boy in questions was making it difficult by being almost shirtless around her.

She tried to be keep calm, tried not to ogle at the half naked man in front of her as she silently prayed that he would find a shirt as to not tempt her any longer before asking for what her original mission was for: a cup of sugar. With the cup in hand, she was sure she had done it; she had gotten her cup of sugar and seen her elusive crush and had not made herself look like an idiot. That was until she walked out the front door. Her mother, no matter how much Quinn hated her, had always taught her to be polite in social situations even if her invite was a little less than graceful. She felt her face fall flat for a moment before she could stop it and placed the fake smile on. She never expected to see him again; hell he'd probably think she was one of those girls that went after married men she saw on an episode of Tyra once. To see him running up to her door was more than a shock, but as her mother had taught her: one cannot be rude to guests, so in Sam went.

He look bewildered as he walked in, his eyes going to every wall, every painting or statue that graced the mansion.

"I looked the same exact way you look right now first time I was here," Quinn said with a giggle, leading the boy to the kitchen. "I'm guessing you've never met the owner of the house before?" With one perfectly arched eyebrow raised, Quinn watched as the other blonde shook his head no and Quinn wondered if she should be surprised by the news, but shook it off. Maybe this Richard guy was just as antisocial as Santana was at times.

"The owner of the house is nice," Quinn began, trying to make conversation as she placed her measuring cup on the granite counter. "A little old, but I think he's enjoying Sanny's company." With Sam awkwardly shrugging at her words, Quinn decided that if they were going to bake, it needed to be now, not when it became completely weird.

Quinn called for Brittany and watched as the lanky blonde walked in, her bright smile filling up the room as she walked in with her own stuffed unicorn toy. Quinn was relieved that Brittany would be joining them in the baking extravaganza. Quinn saw the dancer as the only refuge stopping her from making more of a fool of herself in front of the gorgeous married man. Which was why Brittany's next words frightened her completely.

"I don't really want to bake anymore," Brittany said simply, her eyes moving from Quinn to the fat orange tabby that was now crisscrossing itself through her long legs. Reaching over to pick up the cat, Brittany put the cat's face up to her ear and nodded once before placing the cat against her chest. "Lord Tubbington says I should leave you two alone." Placing the cat up to her ear again, Brittany added, "and get him a pack of Marlboro Reds, but I'm not going to do that one." With her cat and toy in hand, Brittany proceeded to walk out of the kitchen before stopping once more and looking at the two blondes staring at her. "You two should just kiss already. That always solves my problems."

With Brittany walking out of the room once more and Quinn's eyes as wide as saucers, Quinn heard Sam clear his throat, his eyes everywhere around the room except for her. "Do you want me to leave now?" he asked her, Quinn noticing that he was inching his way out of the kitchen.

"No!" Quinn responded louder than she would have liked, smoothing out her clothing once more at how sudden her outburst was. "No," she repeated, "we can still make something. It's not a problem with you, right?" Quinn felt her heart skip a beat as Sam nodded to her words, a small smile placing itself on her lips. "Now what should we make, Sammy?" Quinn teased, leaning over the counter as she watched the boy squirm again. Sure she would never be able to sleep with him, especially since he was married, but Quinn had no problem with teasing the poor boy with something he could never have. In fact, it had always been her motto in high school that it was all about the teasing, not about the pleasing, even though in this case, the pleasing would have definitely sufficed.

The boy moved to the counter, leaning over it exactly like she did, as if he was more than willing to play the same game. "I'm game for whatever you want to make," Sam replied to her, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he spoke. Quinn hated that his smile made her smile, especially since she was sure he looked at his wife the same way.

Moving back from the counter, Quinn reached for a nearby apron and placed it over her neck, feeling the side strings dangle. "Chocolate chip cookies," Quinn decided then and there, turning back to make sure it was okay with her guest. With a quick nod from him, Quinn began gathering the supplies now that she had the sugar that she needed so much.

"Wait," she heard the deep male voice say calmly as she turned back, her hands still holding the refrigerator open as she looked for the milk. Quinn nearly jumped back when she felt his hands on her as they grazed her sides. Shutting her eyes for a moment as she tried to control her breathing, she heard him whisper, "Let me help you with that," as he tied her side strings together across her lower back. With his hands lingering on her a little more than necessary, Quinn thought she could only breathe again when he moved back and began rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, grabbing plastic bowls and utensils as she grabbed the rest of the food.

Quinn tried her best to keep silent and to her task, putting all the ingredients in the same bowl before giving it to Sam and moving to turn on the oven, especially since she didn't want to risk looking more like an idiot in front of the boy, but when she heard an exaggerated French accent before her, Quinn couldn't stop the giggle that came out of her. Turning around, she saw Sam holding the bowl to his chest as he mixed everything together, the voice coming out only making the whole situation funnier.

"Some cupcakes for the mademoiselle?" Quinn didn't think she could laugh any harder at the ridiculously goofy grin on his face as he kept up his little act. "How dare you laugh at Chef Pierre!" Quinn watched as Sam feigned being hurt.

"Chef Pierre, huh?" Quinn answered, the grin on her face becoming mischievous as he continued to be completely clueless. With a quick answer of "Oui.", Quinn let her hand dip in the flour for a moment before walking up to Sam and flicking the powder against the side of his head. "What does Chef Pierre think about that?" Quinn asked innocently, even as she broke out into a not so innocent grin. Quinn hadn't expected Sam to do the same thin back to her, this time mashing some of the batter into her hair as she stood there completely shocked. "That," with a pause that only raised the tension, "is what Chef Pierre thinks."

With those six simple words, the food fight began, Quinn moving to throw food at Sam and protect herself as Sam did the same. Quinn was hiding behind the island in the middle of the kitchen when she felt Sam's arms around her, moving her to his chest as he turned her to face him. "You got a little mess there," Sam pointed before breaking out into a laugh at her cupcake batter covered hair. "Maybe I should take you to get cleaned up."

With that, Quinn found herself in the air and over Sam's shoulder, her view being the kitchen, well the mess that was the kitchen, getting smaller and smaller as she heard the patio door open and the splashes and felt her feet getting wet. With Sam dropping her gently into the water, Quinn was happy she got a quick breath as she submerged, her first sight being him when she reached the surface again.

"Cleaned up yet?" Sam asked her, his wet blonde hair almost getting into his eyes. Her response was to simply splash at him as he did the same. Quinn felt herself reverting back to a happy child as she splashed water at the boy in front of her, a childhood she never really knew. She was more than content to keep the water fight going as long as her heart desired when she felt an arm, his arm, grabbing hers and pulling her back to him in the water.

The laughter stopped. The joking stopped. Everything around them in the water seemed to hold still just for them. Quinn held her breath as her hands moved to his chest, feeling the muscles there through his now soaked shirt. It felt as if Sam was staring at her, as if he was memorizing her every feature and not saying one word about it.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, unsure of how her voice got so husky since they were so close to each other.

"Following what Brittany said," was his answer before his lips moved on top of hers and he was kissing her. Quinn didn't realize it at first, her mind making her forget where she was for a moment, but then Quinn soon realized what she was doing. She was kissing him back. Her eyes were shut as their lips sipped from each other and her arms moved around his shoulders as his tongue began massaging her bottom lip, deepening the kiss completely.

The guilt pulsed through her slowly, the tiny voice in her head gradually getting louder and louder the more she kissed him, the more she grabbed at his shirt, the more she felt his hands against her hips. _He's married. He's married. He's married._ _He's married. He's married._ It finally became too much for her.

Quinn was panting as she pulled away, the second panting breath being Sam directly in front of her. She said nothing for a moment, letting herself catch her breath and waiting for Sam to say something, anything. When he didn't, Quinn assumed that he felt just as guilty as she did. Shutting her eyes again so his face wasn't in view anymore, little did it work since his face was there anyway, Quinn let the first words in her brain slip off her tongue.

"Get out."


	4. Chapter 4

"Get out."

The words were so simple but so powerful that Sam felt as if he was being blown back when he heard them. Why was she saying that to him again? Sam couldn't remember the reason for the life of him until it hit him like a runaway freight train. The kiss, the phenomenal kiss the two had shared that was still jarring in his mind even seconds after the kiss had finished. The words were already ringing in his ear when he heard her speak again.

"Get out, Sam."

She was repeating herself and her face was showing a lot more hurt than Sam had realized his kiss would have done. The lie. It was the lie that was doing this to the blonde teary-eyed girl in front of him. It was_ his_ lie that was causing the guilt to run all over Quinn's face, the guilt and the shame that Sam could clearly see. He had wanted to kiss her again, had wanted that to last a lot longer than it had not just because it felt great, but because it felt_ right,_ _perfect_ practically.

"I can't, Quinn. I'm sorry, but you cannot deny that that wasn't hot," Sam blurted out, his hands moving to push his wet bangs out of his hair.

Sam watched as Quinn's arms crossed in front of her chest, hiding herself from him it seemed as her eyes stared daggers into him. "Sam, get out. I'm serious." She repeated, this time showing what he was supposed to be doing as she swam her way through the water until her feet reached the pool steps. Before she could finish climbing up, Sam was swimming after her, trying desperately to catch up until she disappeared behind the clear glass windows that separated the inside from the outside.

"Quinn, let me explain-" Sam began, pausing between deep breaths from swimming almost half of the length of the pool to catch up to her. "You an-and the house and-and, fuck me being married-" Sam didn't get to finish his thought until Quinn's finger was in his face, shutting him completely.

"That's it, Sam. You're_ married_. I'm not going to be some homewrecker because of one stupid kiss. I've seen firsthand what cheating does to a marriage," Sam watched as the girl paused and teared up for a second, a sign that it must have been incredibly personal to her, "And I can't do this. You need to get out, Sam. Never talk to me again."

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened with her last command, with Sam not being able to give up that easily. Never talk to her again? After a kiss like that, it wasn't anywhere near possible for him to do that. He needed the blonde to hear the truth, even though she might hate him just for that, but he had to try.

"Bu-but Quinn, hear me out. It's not what you thin-"

Sam didn't get to add another word in edgewise before Quinn's hand was over his mouth, the girl leaning over to cover his mouth as his hand finally reached the silver bar for the pool.

"It's exactly what I think, Sam. You-" Sam watched as she forced herself to take a deep breath and finishing her sentence calmly, "are married and what we just did can never happen again." With that, Sam heard a shaky breath escape from the girl before she turned away, walking back to the door that Sam knew would ultimately shut down any chances he would have to try to win the girl over, even though he wondered if he had squandered them already.

"I'm not married."

Sam didn't know how he sputtered out those words, but he did and he could see the shock turn into confusion on the blonde's face as she stood her ground, her eyes looking at him up and down as she waited for an explanation.

Emerging from the water, Sam began to speak as he moved closer to the shivering blonde, his voice steady though becoming more and more rushed as he kept talking. "I'm not married. I don't know why I said that to you, but I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied and.. and I know I'm an idiot and I shouldn't have kissed you, but I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean, not lie. And-and, I'm not married. I don't have a wife or a wedding ring. Hell I don't even live in the house next door. I'm not married, please believe me."

Sam was standing in front of Quinn, his chest moving up and down as he watched her face, though it was in futile. Sam couldn't read what the girl was thinking, a scary prospect since he had just exposed himself completely to her.

The slap on the face wasn't what he expected, but once he saw the tears in her eyes and Quinn biting her lip to keep from sobbing, the boy knew where the slap had come from. It had come from anger, sadness, betrayal, feelings he had caused with his lie that seemed so small but was entirely too big.

"How can you lie about not being married?" the girl sobbed out, holding her hand over her mouth to try to calm herself down before moving to wipe errant tears from her face. Sam couldn't believe she had it all wrong. Instead of being mad at him for lying, she thought he was _still_ lying and the slap on the face was her punishing him for continuing what really wasn't happening.

"What would your wife think about this?"

"What would my _wife_ think about this?" Sam sputtered, unsure of what else to say. "It wouldn't matter since I'm _not married_." His tone came out harsher and meaner than he wanted, but as soon as the words came out, he knew he was done for. The look on Quinn's face was the answer that he needed. Sam had had plenty of girls running after him in his lifetime, but he could honestly say that this was the first time he had had a girl run away from him.

"Qui-" Sam tried to say, but it was useless. The sliding glass door rattled in its frame as she slammed it, his breath shuddering now as he walked out of the pool and back to the empty house next door.

**AN: Short chapter I know, but I already have an idea of what the next chapter will hold. Thanks for being patient! It's been a busy few months!**


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