Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing of Glee
A/N: So this is my "surprise". I finished the first chapter of the prequel awhile back and I figured I'd make today a double feature. The same rules from Crossing apply here: not trying to preach a political message here, but there will be some references back to politics. It'll be a bit more than in Crossing the Aisle because they're younger they can't ignore it as much as they could when they were older. The 28th Amendment is starts in the fall of 1999. We're going to be borrowing from several storyline plots made canon throughout Glee but just because you recognize something does not mean that it'll end the way that RIB handled it. Additionally, if you haven't read Crossing the Aisle, I would suggest reading it but it's not critical to your understanding of this story. Also there will be some interesting changes to some characters, just go with it. Everything will be explained over time and without further or do I hope you enjoy Crossing the Aisle's prequel The 28th Amendment!
And special shout out as always to my lovely beta Jill!
The 28th Amendment
Summary: While their fathers attempt to air out the other's dirty laundry on the congressional floor, high school seniors Sam and Mercedes find themselves stuck in a case of fatal attraction and end up bringing their closest friends and enemies along for the ride.
Chapter 1 - Party Platforms
Every now and then, Blaine Anderson needed to let go. He tried not to make a habit of it, lest he turn into Jeff Sterling, but sometimes he just needed a break from being the only son of Levi and Astoria Anderson and the sole heir to the financial fortress known as Anderson Incorporated. Today was one of those days.
"Don't be a snob Anderson," a blond haired, blue eyed devil teased. "Share the love man."
Jeff Sterling, son of the Secretary of the Army from the Department of Defense, stood at Blaine's side as they over looked D.C from an abandoned hill. Jeff wore a dopey smile thanks to the joint in his right hand, though he was still eyeing the cigarette in Blaine's left. Blaine was just about to comment on why Jeff shouldn't even have the damn joint when the crunch of leaves echoed throughout the abandoned plateau. Blaine snatched the flashlight that had been resting idly on the ground below and shot the light towards the wilderness behind them.
"Oh look, Blondie's here," Jeff smiled.
"Who are you calling 'Blondie'?" Blaine said. "Your hair is fucking platinum."
"Who gave Jeff a joint?" Sam asked as he reached the two boys.
"He had it on him by the time I got up here," Blaine explained. "Where are David and Wes?"
"On their way up," Sam replied. "Nick is with them."
"Good," Jeff said after a long drag. "It's the last weekend before school starts and since the world is apparently going to end once the millennia hits in January, this is one of the last chances I'll ever have to fuck some shit up."
"You've got at least a few more months, don't worry," Sam said.
"Why are we friends with him again?" Blaine asked Sam.
"Oh no, he's your friend Anderson," Sam replied.
"If we didn't do it then he'd be dead," Nick half-teased as he emerged from the forest with Wes and David. "And yes Jeff, it does take all of us."
"You bitches love me," Jeff grinned.
In truth they did. Five of the boys had been in school together since preschool. Blaine and Sam had been diaper buddies and David had fallen in line by 7th grade. Sam was just happy that his
"Jeff babysitting duties" were restricted to weekend and summertime as he was the only one who did not attend Dalton Academy.
"What is on the agenda for tonight?" David asked, "Other than making sure that Jeff doesn't get killed or worse incarcerated..."
The boys chuckled as Jeff shrugged. "Even if we did run into D.C.'s finest, our road trip to Alexandria taught us that Blaine here can make just about anything disappear!"
"Not true Jeff," Blaine sighed.
"Let's please stop talking about Alexandria," Wes said. "Just thinking about that night gives me a headache."
"That was a fun night," Jeff grinned.
"That was a long ass night," David corrected, "which is why I am suggesting we stay in our own area code tonight."
"Isn't there a McKinley party going down tonight?" Nick asked.
"Oh? McKinley broads? Me gusta," Jeff grinned.
"You know if you actually called a girl a 'broad' to her face, she'd probably rip your balls off," Sam told Jeff.
"That sounds better than having my balls being taken hostage by Quinn Fabray," Jeff shot back.
"Can we please not go there tonight?" Sam whined.
"No, let's talk about how you somehow managed to agree to an arranged marriage at 17," Blaine piped up.
"I mean seriously dude, what the fuck?" Jeff added. "While I commend her for bouncing back so quickly did you really have to draw the straw to be her bitch?"
"Jeff shut up," Wes said. "And Blaine you're being dramatic."
"Thank you Wes," Sam said. "It's just to keep my parents at bay."
"I'm just shocked that he actually thinks it'll work," David sighed.
"Screw you guys," Sam groaned. "Are we going to this party or not?"
"Yeah let's go," Jeff said. "The Ice Princess is still out of town, so this Sam's last chance to get some. I want some ass and Blainers over here desperately needs it. Dude I can't remember the last time you got laid."
"Jeff when was the last time you slept with a girl that didn't lead to persistent stalking and/or a restraining order?" Blaine shot back.
"I think he was four." Nick laughed as they all made their way down the hill.
While some headed out for the night, others like Mercedes Jones were content to stay in for the night; not that her best friend Kurt Hummel agreed.
"We could go to that party," Kurt suggested.
"Let me get this straight, you want to go party with people that we're going to be forced to socialize with all year long? I love a good time Kurt, but dealing with egotistical asshats like Finn Hudson and Dave Karofsky or sex sharks like Noah Puckerman doesn't exactly fit my bill as a good time."
"But staying cooped up in your room on a Friday night does? Come on 'Cede. You only go through senior year once-unless you're Puckerman, but that's beside the point! We need some fun, some adventure!"
"You mean alcohol?" Mercedes said flatly.
"Fine, if we stay here then you're going to come clean about why you keep stalling with Shane Tinsley."
Mercedes leaned back against her pillows and groaned. All summer long Shane had been trying to convince her to let him take their friendship to the next level. He'd been sweet and charming about it and Mercedes didn't really have a good reason for continually saying no other than the fact that she still maintained that something just wasn't there with Shane. Mercedes wasn't the type of girl to believe in Prince Charming, but was a spark too much to ask? What would be the point of going through all the motions if she really didn't feel something unique for the other person? Her mother did caution her about getting caught up with some idealized trigger that's supposed to lead to true love, but Mercedes Jones wasn't looking for true love. She just wanted someone she could connect with.
"C'mon 'Cede, snap out of it!"
"Sorry Kurt," Mercedes blushed.
"So will you humor me please?" He begged. "Just for one night?"
"Well, we both have the Senator's brunch tomorrow so we can't be too late."
Allison McHale's party was everything Mercedes thought it would be: alcohol, half naked teenagers and more booze. One of the many "perks" that came along with being a child of a politician or cop was the lack of attention. Lack of attention often led to pity gifts like fast cars, expensive clothes and everyone's personal favorite-money. Mercedes spent the first half hour in her usual "just say no" mode, but after she was pulled into an innocent game of beer pong with Kurt, the alcohol seemed to keep flowing. By the time she made it upstairs to the second story bathroom to cool down, Mercedes wasn't quite sure how long they'd been there. She couldn't have been in the lavish room for more than five minutes before all of the lights flickered out and someone downstairs yelled, "Blackout!"
Taking a deep breath, Mercedes felt her way out of the bathroom and down the hall until she ran into a pair of soft, pillow lips.
"I like your fingers," the deep voice of a male complimented.
"Thanks," Mercedes giggled, the alcohol loosening her speech. It also did wonders for what Kurt usually defined as her "stiff" demeanor.
"Mind if I get a bit more acquainted?"
A sober Mercedes Jones would have never let anyone suck on her fingers suggestively, let alone a stranger, but as he did so. She couldn't help but put as little space between them as possible.
"I need those back you know," she told him softly.
Mercedes felt him release her fingers and nudge his warm cheeks against her own until her found her ear.
"I guess I'll just have to suck on something else."
Mercedes gasped as she felt his warm lips and tongue latch onto the side of her neck. She let him guide them aimlessly though the dark until they reached a sturdy surface. It was a wall or at least felt like one. Mercedes wasn't quite sure thanks to the alcohol and roaming hands of the stranger. It probably didn't help that her hands were also going on their own explorations of his body and his lips were leading a dangerous trail down to the top of her loose shirt. Her body rolled against his kisses and she let out a low groan when he abandoned his path to her breast so that their lips could meet.
"Fuck you're soft all over," he groaned in between kisses.
"I don't even know your name," she sighed as he started his trail down to her collarbone. Their hips had started a slow grind and Mercedes was in a desperate need for more friction.
"Sam," he hissed roll his hips against hers. "Lord have mercy, woman!"
"Just Mercy," she teased running her fingers through his hair. They stayed liked this, attached to the hip until the lights flickered back on. Both of them staggered away from each other as their eyes readjusted to the light. When Mercedes could see again, she was met with a set of clear green eyes staring back at her and a loud, "Oh fuck!" ringing in her ears.
Downstairs Kurt Hummel wasn't exactly having the best of times. Going out and breaking a few rules had sounded nice in the comfort and judgment free zone of Mercedes' home, but in the midst of beer stained breath and rowdy teens, Kurt wasn't sure that he could take much more of the whispers that were too loud to be considered as such. Was it illogical of him to think that a year and a half would be enough time for his classmates to get over his sexual orientation? It was no secret among the McKinley Preparatory students that Kurt Hummel was gay. It wasn't everyone's knowledge of the fact that truly bothered Kurt—it was the fact that the majority of them were convinced that he was a card carrier of the "gay cancer" and was going to spread it to all of the males in his year by simply being in their presence. Even though the amount of AIDS related deaths was on the decline, Kurt Hummel was still regarded as the freak and it seemed that no time could change that. Despite of all of that, he managed for the most part to keep his head up, avoid reckless situations, like being alone with Dave Karofsky, Rick "the Stick" Nelson, or even Finn Hudson, the three golden boys of the Republican Party. Kurt stayed active with the Glee club at McKinley and managed to keep hold of one of his oldest friends in the process of coming out. With only one year left at WMP Kurt Hummel had a lot to look forward to.
"Someone shoot me now," groaned a male to the left of Kurt.
"Sorry, I'm fresh out of ammunition for the night," Kurt replied. "I'm Kurt Hummel by the way."
"The famed son of the Democratic congressman?" the boy asked.
"The very one and you are?"
"About to kill Jeff Sterling," he replied darkly looking ahead of them. There was a small blonde boy arguing rather animatedly with Dave Karofsky, a senior at McKinley Prep.
"Go fuck yourself Karofsky," Jeff slurred, swaying slightly as he stood up to the older and bigger offender. "You're just pissy because your girl preferred my horse to that poor excuse of a penis hiding between your legs."
"Jeff," the curly haired boy growled as he approached the situation.
"Pack your boys and their shit and get the fuck out of here Anderson," Rick Nelson, Dave's right hand man, ordered as he stood by his friend's side.
"Can it Nelson, I don't take order from you," Blaine snapped. "Jeff I want you to shut the fuck up while these two gentlemen go back to enjoying their miserable excuse for lives on the other side of the damn room."
"Why don't you assholes just scram to the other side of the damn river," Dave snapped. "This is our side of town."
"Last time I checked, you were a momma's boy Karofsky, not a Crip gang member," Blaine snarled. "Save that bullshit for someone who actually gives a fuck."
"It's still a free country asshat! Besides, the last time I checked there was no obnoxiously large tower with your last name on it, so I think that makes DC Anderson-town bitch, and your asses grass," Jeff added.
"Get out," Dave growled.
"Make us," Blaine dared.
"Fuck you bitches," Rick spat.
"I'd rather do your mother," Jeff replied nonchalantly. "At least she'd be an easy lay."
That didn't sit well with neither Dave nor Rick. Kurt wasn't sure who swung first, but the makeshift dance floor quickly turned into a brawling match. Kurt watched as two other males, a tall Asian and an African American, tried to separate the boys. Kurt didn't see an end until Sam Evans managed to bulldoze in between Anderson and Karofsky. No one seemed too keen on punching Sam in the face, which made some sense as Sam Evans was the son of the most powerful Republican on the Hill. He was also known as a tad bit of a political outcast at McKinley, favoring the company of super senior Noah Puckerman over the more popular Finn, Dave and Rick. Apparently he also had a soft spot for the Dalton boys too.
"Get them the fuck out of here Evans," Karofsky spat.
"Go cry to your mother David," Sam replied as he pushed the blonde, Jeff Sterling, towards the door. "No one is here for you or your petty bullshit."
By the time Wes and David were able to wrangle up Nick, who'd been too preoccupied with a busty brunette to see the earlier damage, the black eye on the right side of Blaine's face was starting to darken.
"That's going to be a bitch to cover up," Sam told him passing Jeff off to David. "You know we've got that Senator's event in the morning."
"Fuck I forgot all about that," Jeff groaned.
"You would," David snapped. "And what the hell were you and Dave Karofsky arguing about?"
"Some chick who'll probably come back to stalk Jeff later in life," Wes sighed. "Let's just get onto more important things, like where the hell were you Sam when this all started?"
"Upstairs," Sam replied shortly trying not to relive his blackout fantasy with one of his family's oldest rivals.
"With who?" Jeff pressed grinning like a mad man with his own black eye and bloodied nose.
"No one," Sam told them. "By the time we were getting somewhere, this kid ran up to tell me that a fight had broken out downstairs."
"Damn that's a shame," Nick sighed. "Good going Jeff!"
They each gave their bruised blonde friend a smack on the head for good measure before piling into David's ride and driving off.
By the time Sam rose the next morning, he was acutely aware of two things: One-hangovers hurt like a bitch, and two—hangovers mixed with dreams of the ass of Mercedes Jones' were even worse. She wasn't even on the market and even if she was, Jones would be way too high strung for him, despite all that softness. Damn, why hadn't he at least…
"Rise and shine bitches! It's a brand new day," Jeff Sterling yelled as he strutted into the guest bedroom that Sam and Blaine were sharing. Jeff wore a million dollar smile and a loose robe that didn't leave enough to the imagination.
"Jesus Jeff, put on some clothes!" Sam groaned covering his eyes.
"How is he even awake right now?" Blaine moaned against his pillow.
"Genetics," Jeff shrugged. "Most hangovers usually wear off after about an hour or so."
"I'm convinced that you manipulated your gene pool as an embryonic sperm," Nick grumbled, entering the room. "Between this and your eidetic memory, you truly are one rude bastard Sterling."
"Aww thanks Nicky," Jeff teased. "And since you two boys weren't born so lucky, drink this, you're going to need it."
Jeff offered Sam and Blaine two small flasks but Sam instantly turned his head away.
"Last time I let you give me a hangover cure, I still had to spend the afternoon over the toilet because it tasted like piss," Sam frowned.
"It's the real stuff," Wes announced as he walked into the room. He was already half-dressed.
"Where are we?" Blaine groaned.
"My guest bedroom," Nick replied, "but that luncheon starts in a few hours and if you don't want your asses handed to you by your mothers, then I suggest that you drink whatever the hell Jeff gives you and get your asses up."
Following Jeff's wake up call, Sam managed to drop off Blaine and make it back to his house in record time. Somehow though, his mother was still waiting for him in his bedroom.
"Long night?" she asked sweetly, which was usually a pretext to something that would be rather uncomfortable for Sam.
"Sorry I didn't call last night," Sam apologized. "We fell asleep playing video games."
"Am I supposed to believe that?" Martha Evans asked her son frankly.
"Well yeah, considering we practically OD'ed on Nick's candy machine and the sugar pretzels that his older sister made for us," Sam replied. It wasn't a complete lie. All of those things did actually happen…a few weeks ago.
"Mrs. Evans," one of the family butlers, Roland, interrupted, "Senator Evans requests your assistance in the lower parlor ma'am."
Martha nodded to Roland and then turned back to Sam and warned, "Don't let me catch you bending the truth Samuel. I'll make you wish that you had just flat out lied."
"Now, we're leaving in about an hour and a half. Don't forget to put on one of your better suits. We're meeting the Fabray family before we arrive at the luncheon."
"I thought they were still in California?" Sam sighed.
"Judy and Russell decided to fly the family back early," his mother said. "Now go on and take your shower. I want you looking your best, and make sure you wash your hair thoroughly. It still reeks of alcohol."
Sam starred at his mother completely dumbfounded as she made her exit.
By the time Mercedes Jones was roused from sleep, she couldn't have been happier for the distraction. Her dreams had gotten a bit too hot and heavy, but seeing her older brothers Rashad and Devon loom over her was the perfect buzz kill.
"You're both still here?" she smiled.
"Jeez you'd think she's trying to get rid of us Dev," Rashad teased.
"Nope just you," Devon chuckled, "and it's probably because she wants to get rid of your girlfriend."
"Dude shut up," Rashad groaned. "Mom already thinks that she's a hoe."
"That's because she is a hoe!" Mercedes said. "Alexis Green is a good for nothing—"
"—lazy ass hoe," Irene Jones finished walking into her daughter's bedroom. "Did you have sex with that girl Rashad? I hope not, because I am not about to let you give me lazy ass grandbabies!"
Mercedes and Devon both leaned back in laughter into Mercedes' bedding as their mother started her Alexis rant again.
"I just don't understand why you can't date a nice respectable girl," Irene sighed. "Like Morgan!"
"Eww, ma! That's like dating my sister," Rashad shuddered. "Morgan and I are just friends."
"And what are you two laughing at?" Irene Jones snapped at her younger children. "You all better find this as troubling as I do because I know you don't want to have to babysit any kids that come from that Alexis girl. And yes, you two would be babysitting them because I sure as hell will not. This house is not a daycare, and that goes for the three of you!"
"Relax ma," Devon smiled. "We won't be going down that road for at least a few more years."
"We'll see," Irene Jones replied. "Now Mercedes baby, I need you up and dressed so we can leave for this luncheon. Let me warn you now, Shane Tinsley and his family are downstairs."
"What?" Mercedes yelped as her brothers snickered.
"Honey relax, this is a classic William Jones move, though it wouldn't kill you to go one date with the boy," Irene told her. "C'mon boys, let your sister change."
Once they left Mercedes let out a loud sigh. Her father had been on her case for weeks now about why she couldn't just say yes to Shane Tinsley. Simon Tinsley and William Jones went way back; their families had been friends for years and it seemed that the two of them believed that she and Shane could make quite the couple if she were only willing to give it a chance. It wasn't that she didn't like him; Shane was a sweet boy, respected his parents and had a plan for himself, which was more than she could say about a lot of boys she knew. Normally Mercedes would be over the moon but with Shane it just wasn't…
"Fuck you're soft all over…"
Well shit, Mercedes thought as she threw the covers off of her body, perhaps I do need to give Shane the time of day.
By the time Mercedes made it downstairs fully dressed everyone was waiting on her and Shane was quick to shower her with compliments as he had been doing for the past few weeks.
"Thank you Shane," Mercedes replied giving him a soft smile.
"Not a problem," Shane said to her. "You know Dad is letting me drive the Lincoln Mark, you're welcome to join us in the passenger's seat."
"Oh that's so sweet," Irene interrupted. "I do like style Shane, but I don't like you that much. Mercedes, get in the car with your father and let's get out of here and to that damn luncheon before I lose the nerve."
"Are you going to be this fun throughout the entire brunch Irene?" Sharon Tinsley, Shane's mother, asked lightly.
"I'll be alright so long as someone keeps me away from Judy Fabray," Irene replied.
"Just Judy?" Mercedes scoffed.
"I can't slap minors that don't belong to me," Irene shrugged. "So for now, yes just Judy."
The Senator's luncheon was a long standing tradition held in late August by an elected Senator from the majority party that brought families from all congress members together. The brunch also brought together high ranking officials from the 14 cabinet—including the family of Arnold Sterling, the Deputy Secretary of Defense.
"Evans family," Jeff Sterling greeted cordially as Sam and his parents walked through the tents where the luncheon was being held.
"Jeffery," Martha replied. "I see you didn't tear down half of Washington last night while you boys were playing with Nicholas' gumball machines."
She didn't bother to shoot Sam a look but he did his best not to redden under the curious glance from his father.
"That would be quite the story," Jeff said giving Sam's mother his best smile.
"I'm glad you agree," Martha said leaving her son with his friend.
"You know I've been thinking—"
"Never a good thing," Sam groaned cutting Jeff off.
"And I think between my eidetic memory and your decent intelligence, we should be able to find that girl you were trying to lay last night," Jeff continued.
"Just forget it Jeff," Sam hissed. "I have a girlfriend, remember?"
"No, you my friend have a set of rusty chains wrapped around your dick. You're in desperate need of liberation. What we need to do is find your Prince Charming to get the key to your chastity belt, Cinderella. Speaking of which, was it a dude? Because you know I don't pass judgment!"
Jeff had to raise his voice for the last bit as Sam had begun to walk away from him, but the young Dalton junior was not deterred. Jeff Sterling always got what he wanted and he was going to figure out who was this mystery girl that Sam seemed to be too quick to forget.
An hour had quickly flown by and Sam was already half listening to one of his father's co-workers lecturing on and on about welfare reform when he saw Mercedes. She admittedly looked good in her sundress and Sam was slightly surprised by the scowl that developed as he watched Shane Tinsley hover over her. He looked desperate as fuck to Sam. He couldn't completely tell if Mercedes was simply humoring Tinsley or genuinely interested but when her eyes found his, Sam had his answer.
He caught up with her about a half hour after that. She was standing in between two of the food tables that ran parallel, collecting food on a small plate.
"You shouldn't stare," she hissed without turning to face him.
"My apologies," Sam replied. "Enjoying your afternoon with Shane 'the Bulldozer' Tinsley?"
"I'd rather have Shane on my arm than deal with the Ice Princess," Mercedes snapped. "Speaking of which shouldn't you be attending to her every need and not staring at me?"
"It wasn't always like this though was it, Mercy?" Sam pressed.
"Do not call me that," Mercedes spat turning around to face Sam. Usually Sam would have been amused by her petty anger. They had only shared a few kisses after all, nothing to scream over, but he was too taken by how captivating her brown eyes were to notice the lethal tone in her voice.
"Last night never happened," Mercedes continued facing away from him again. "You're not going to tell anyone and neither am I because we've both got too much to lose."
That part was true. It would be a sheer nightmare if their parents found out, even if there was much to tell. Ultimately the drama of it all wouldn't be worth much of Sam's time. Still, he couldn't help remember what his grandfather always told him: campaign promises almost always get broken.
Unaware that he'd said the last bit aloud, Sam was slightly surprised when she turned to face him again and nearly growled, "That's not a campaign promise Evans. It's my party's platform. I will end you if you breathe a word of last night to anyone."
"You'd only resort to that because you'll be too frustrated by the fact that you can't have this on a regular basis," Sam teased wanting to see how far he could push her.
"I won't have a problem with that Mr. Lord Have Mercy! You just make sure you stay on your side of the aisle Evans, and I'll be sure to stay on mine."
"Pleasure doing business with you Jones," Sam said. "I suppose I'll be seeing you on the congressional floor."
As Mercedes Jones walked away David Makin Jr. came to stand by Sam.
"What did Mercedes Jones want?" he asked watching Mercedes rejoin Shane.
"Nothing, she was just being a hassle" Sam shrugged.
"Shame about that lineage, I wouldn't mind taking a girl like that for a spin," David said.
"Something tells me that you're not her type," Sam told him, shaking off his own frown.
"Neither are you asshole," David laughed.
"I know," Sam replied. "So how about we both stick to women that we're better off with."
"Well I have no problem being fabulously single while you get dragged around as Quinn Fabray's trophy husband," David teased. "Speaking of which I hear she's looking for you."
"In eight short months none of this, not Quinn Fabray or Mercedes Jones will matter," Sam said leading David to where their friends were congregated. "Let's just stick to the endgame shall we?"
"Sounds good to me."
So tell me what you think. Hate it? Like it? Love it? As always thank you for reading!