The first time was an accident, that's at least what Quinn Fabray tried to tell herself. She had invited Sam Evans out for coffee with the most honorable of intentions, to catch up on old times. They were responsible adults now, not hormonal teenagers in high school. They could go out to coffee together. They could handle that.

Quinn had to admit that she was shocked when her cell phone rang on Monday morning and his voice had not only answered, but instigated the formal meeting, their first in years. She and Sam had lost all contact after high school; well really after they had broken up. Sure there was New Directions where they would sing and dance together, sometimes letting glances be exchanged or letting hands linger a second longer than needed, but they weren't friends. They were teammates and classmates, but never friends. Even when their rebound relationships had failed and it became expected by their teammates that the two blonds would rush to each other's arms to avoid being alone, they didn't. After her final break-up with Finn, Quinn had become diligent with her original plan for her school year: stay popular and stay single.

Quinn tried her hardest not to pay attention to Sam's new Cheerio girlfriend of the week and could only stand back and watch as he rose to become Puck 2.0, now that Puckerman had officially retired thanks to Rachel Berry, of all people. Yeah, she thought that was weird too. She focused on her work and on her Cheerios and when she punished certain Cheerios for their less than stellar performances, the fact that most of the girls were on the list of girls Sam had allegedly bedded was not lost upon her.

Quinn began counting down the days until she could graduate and never see his pouty lips or his Beiber hair or any reminder of one Sam Evans and when graduation arrived, her smile was big and bright in all her pictures because she was sure that he was finally gone.

Everyone had separated after graduation. While everyone spread out to the different points of the United States, Quinn Fabray had decided to stay put. Sure, she was one of the smarter people in her grade and with her grade point average and test scores, she could have had her choice of any school in the U.S., but she chose Ohio State University, her father's alma mater. She always thought her destiny was to stay home and after her college graduation and settling back home to teach at her old high school, she was sure that she was following it.

It was the 10 year reunion that started all the trouble. That's what Quinn would blame everything on when she thought back of the events that would end up transpiring. She was smoothing out her dress after having made awkward small talk with Mr. and Mrs. Puckerman and was more than ready to walk back to her sensible car and drive to her moderate home and never think about this again when he showed up. His hair wasn't bleached blonde nor was it the cut he had become infamous around McKinley for, the first shock of the night. The fact that he walked straight up to her was the second. They hadn't spoken in years and after a bit of awkward talk, Quinn had politely given him her number and the instructions to call her if he ever wanted to catch up again before being whisked away by Santana and her new girltoy of the week.

She hadn't actually expected him to call. She hadn't expected them to meet up. She hadn't expected them to click as quickly as they did over coffee and life stories, his of going to school back east in his birth state for music and bouncing around from recording studio to recording studio as a backup player and singer, hers of doing what was already chosen for her and becoming the perfect daughter her parents had raised her to be. She hadn't expected the kiss that landed against her lips. She hadn't expected to kiss him back.

She couldn't believe it when they ended up back at his hotel room. She knew they should stop, she even said as much, but when his lips collided with hers, she forgot all her protests, forgot all her hesitations, forgot about the mismatched rings that adorned their wedding fingers. As his lips attached onto her neck and another moan escaped her mouth, she wondered how she could explain this to her husband and how in the world he would explain this to his wife. As their clothes were left in piles on the hotel room floor and their bodies were moving against each other as if they had been doing this their entire lives, Quinn rationalized that they couldn't spill a word of this to anyone. As her body arched toward him and her nails bit into his muscled skin, all her worries, doubts, and regrets disappeared as his thoughts became of him. Only him.

The second time was an accident too, a chance meeting at the only major grocery store in her small hometown of Lima. She knew that they were bound to run into each other eventually. She hoped it would be in front of the rest of the New Directions group at the reunion and not alone in front of the produce aisle. Quinn had been examining some vegetables for a salad she planned on making for her husband and parents when she got home when the sound of a metal cart knocking into hers snapped her out of her thoughts.

He had some scruff, scruff she would later find brushing against the pale skin of her bare thighs, leaving a burn that she would fondly and guiltily find later. His hands seemed rough and calloused, farm work mixed with years of guitar playing taking its toll on his fingers; digits that would later trail over her skin and tease her as they circled before entering her most secret part before being replaced by something even more pleasing. He seemed shy this time around, fully clothed and in the middle of running errands for his own family dinner, though the small smile on his face would be replaced with a smirk and a low chuckle when they were alone at the moment he realized her naked writhing body was under his control.

The last time was planned. He was leaving back home to Nashville, back to his wife and his life back there, while she would stay in Lima with her husband and her own life would go back to normal, or at least that's what she hoped. She understood why the guilt and nervousness were settled in her stomach as she knocked on his hotel room door; they deserved to be there since she was a cheater again, but the sadness, she didn't expect the sadness and she couldn't place why it was there. When he opened the door and let her in, the breath she had been holding let itself out when she found a nearly identical look on his face.

She knew she was a cheater and a whore, hell she had been one since high school in everyone's opinion, but the fact that she had broken her married vows wasn't even enough to stop her from walking into the hotel room and into his arms again. He couldn't stop saying how sorry he was for what he had done, for what they had done. Quinn would never admit that she was the one to cry first. She hadn't even realized she had started until her face splashed with hot tears that only began to soak through his cotton t-shirt. It was only when she looked up did she notice the tears streaking down his face too, his usually pale skin blotchy and red. When he leaned down to kiss her gently, she didn't stop him, only accepting the kiss as a way to stop the crying by any means necessary.

This time it was slow and deep and close. Quinn couldn't fathom that he could get any closer when he was already inside her, but with his lips trailing over her skin as whispers of apologies and of love long gone that might be returning, Quinn focused on nothing else but the pleasure and the longing and the wanting. When they finished together, each sighing out the other's name as if they had been doing this for years, Sam held her close to his chest. Quinn didn't push away or fight back. She stayed there, the feel of his body on top of hers becoming so natural in such a short amount of time.

"Run away with me," he whispered. Quinn knew she should have been surprised by the words, but she wasn't. "We can't." she replied, feeling the sting of tears coming back again. "I'm sorry."

The whole New Directions group arrived to send Sam off at the airport which Quinn found helpful. She couldn't cry in front of the group, couldn't change her mind and beg for him to stay or run to the counter and buy two tickets for them to anywhere. She acted surprised when he pulled her for a hug, even as she held him just as tightly back.

She accepted the kiss from her husband as she walked into the house, her eyes unfeeling as she tilted her head so his lips landed on her cheek. She was sure he could read her face as she faked the smile, but she guessed he couldn't as he moved back to his office and to whatever work she wasn't privy too.

The box with all her memories from her past took her a few moments to grab from the top of her closet, especially the junk that had been strewn across there from years of marriage and cohabitation. Sitting on her bed and hearing as her husband clicked on his keyboard a room away. Dropping the lid to her side, she stared at the pictures from her glory days, snapshots of her and the rest of her cheerleading squad next to one of the many trophies they had become accustomed to, photos of her performances with the New Directions though some were missing as they became part of the slideshow presented at the reunion.

Digging deeper, she found the things that she had really cherished through her high school years. A flower she had saved in a small book that had once been picked for her from the boy who always wanted to do sweet things for her. A paper with scribblings of a made up language from an over rated movie that the sweet boy loved. A ring from years ago that, when she slid on next to her wedding band, still fit perfectly and looked more in place than her real ring did. Staring at the promise ring that still shined after all the years, Quinn started to weep silently. "I love you, Sammy," she whispered for herself as she dropped the ring and the trinkets back into the box.

It was like clockwork when her cellphone rang. Quinn didn't need to see to know it was him; the ringtone, a tune from long ago from a mop headed teen singer with a rabid fanbase and a personal connection to the boy had told her that. Grabbing for the phone and shutting her bedroom door away from her husband and her life and her responsibilities, Quinn waited a moment before answering, her heart pounding and her blood racing.

"Hello?"