10 AM the following day found the group of foreign teenagers standing in front of the relatively modern building that would become their school for the duration of their stay in America. Despite Mr. Schuester's best intentions and his attempts to get the French and Italian groups to interact during breakfast this morning, both groups were still very much segregated, the French chattering amongst themselves, standing around looking rather bored to Schue's right while the Italians stood attentively, almost as though they were in formation, to Mr. Schuester's right, hardly speaking at all. Will told himself that it was unavoidable that the groups would find it a little difficult to mesh at first; to be expected really, what with them being unable to communicate and coming from such different academic backgrounds. Not that he thought badly of the school he taught in, McKinley was definitely a good enough school in general- bullying problems and the student's proclivity to use their school supplies primarily as weapons aside- but Dalton seemed to be the epitome of the posh prep-school, its students all looking like the very picture of success in academia. In fact one of the Italian students, the one representing the group, was wearing his uniform even though there was no need to do so for their stay in America.

Will let out a small defeated sigh. There was probably no way this group would become unified in the way he had hoped. He turned around to call the groups to order when he caught sight of one of his students.

Kurt was standing on the very fringes of the French group's circle, listening with half an ear to what was being said by Rachel, but his attentions seemed to be very focused on something else. Or rather someone else. This someone being one of the Italians students who all the other boys seemed to gravitate around. Mr. Schuester recognized him as Blaine Anderson, one of Kurt's roommates. For a brief moment, Will thought that maybe there had been a problem last night or this morning that might need addressing- Will had been very worried about how others would treat Kurt, especially since he had to live with them and he couldn't get away at the end of the day from any potential tormentors- before he realized that Kurt wasn't the only one hanging out at the edge of his group. Blaine Anderson seemed to be shifting infinitesimally closer to Kurt with every shift of his weight, every small jump in place to keep himself warm.

Kurt was staring at him with a slightly furrowed brow, as if trying very hard to solve a puzzle, whereas Blaine seemed to be making a very valiant effort not to look at Kurt at all. So much so that the fact that he wasn't looking at Kurt became conspicuous. Kurt seemed to realize this shortly after Will did, and he turned back fully to Rachel, although he still didn't seem to be paying much attention to the small girl's ramblings. Not that Will could blame him. He opened his mouth to call for order once again when this time he noticed a brief longing look shot directly at the back of Kurt's head.

Will then smiled to himself. Perhaps he had been too quick to think that there would be no unity between the two groups after all.

The groups had finally made it to the classroom where they were expected, only to find themselves waiting for their guide to show up, 5 minutes late.

"Hi, are you Europeans? Because the kitchen gnomes told me there was no such thing as Europe Beans and that I had to come here instead..."

All fourteen people in the room stared at the blond new-comer standing in the doorway, all of them slightly perplexed and questioning their already shoddy grasp of the English language as they tried to make sense of the girl's words.

"Uh, yeah, my name is William Schuester, I am the teacher responsible for the McKinley and Dalton foreign students. I thought we were supposed to be meeting with Principal Sylvester?"

"Coach was busy yelling at students who were eating solid foods so she sent me. I'm Brittany S. Pierce. Britney Spears. Bitch."

Sam and Will were both staring at the girl in front of them with flabbergasted expressions on their face while the rest of the students had pretty much fazed her out, convinced that their English was probably too poor to make sense of what she was saying.

"Uh...right. So, Brittany, you're going to give us the tour of the school?", asked a perplexed Sam.

"I would but the halls are always changing like the stairs at Hogwarts so I get lost sometimes."

A long pause followed Brittany's reply and Mr. Schue was trying desperately to figure out if the girl was pulling a trick on him because he was new meat there of the she really believed everything she was saying. Once again Sam picked up the ball in the conversation.

"Makes sense. That must be hard for you, uh, Brittany, was it?"

"It's Brittany...Bitch."

"Right."

It seemed even Sam was stumped then so Mr. Schue was forced to take an executive decision regarding Brittany's intellect and intentions and just go with it.

"Well Brittany, could you give us the rules of the school then? To give us an idea of what the kids are going to be doing for the next four months? Sam, you translate for the McKinley kids, I'll translate for the Italians..."

"Ok, well, since this is a school, you are gonna be doing school things like making out with people, and dancing and listening to Coach Sylvester when she tells you to climb into a canon", said Brittany, ticking the things off of her fingers as she rattled them off.

Sam and Will exchanged a look.

"On vas passer les quatres prochains mois � �tudier." We are going to study for the next four months.

"Studieremo per i prossimi quattro mesi." We are going to study for the next four months.

"There are also classes, but I don't really understand what's going on in them most of the time because in the morning all the people in the classes are still not awake yet so their alien language translators don't work and they just speak in weird tongues while warming up their English by repeating words after the teacher."

Sam and Will looked like they were going to lose their eyebrows into their hairline if they became any more astounded. Another look was exchanged.

"Les cours d'anglais sont l'avant-midi." English classes take place in the morning.

"I corsi d'inglese sono prima di mezzogiorno." English classes take place in the morning.

"Then the kitchen gnomes give us the food they prepared in the morning in exchange for money, but I think they are being held in slavery because I don't think gnomes use money, they just live in the kitchen. I keep telling them that they have rights and that I want to pay them in food or hugs but they get angry after a while and they don't feed me then. When that happens I get really sad and I can't pay attention to the classes after but they are usually talking in numbers or about things that happened a long time ago so I wouldn't understand anyway. Some days though we make food in class and then I am happy. Or when we cook with things that aren't food but there are pretty flames that I'm not allowed to play with anymore. The best days are when we get to run around and play sports or sing though."

Will and Sam were keeping track of what Brittany was saying all the while trying to decode it.

"So math, history, chemistry..."

"Home ec, phys ed and music, right."

Both men relayed the afternoon classes they would be taking after lunch in the cafeteria to their designated groups.

"After that I have cheerleading but I don't think you are all cheerleaders so I think you get to go home or do other stuff."

"Apr�s les cours vous pouvez prendre des cours extracurriculaires, ou faire des sports." After lessons you can take up some extracurriculars or sports.

"Dopo le lezioni potete partecipare ai corsi extracurriculari. o fare sport." After lessons you can take up some extracurriculars or sports.

"Do you need to know what I do outside of class time too?", asked Brittany.

"No I think this should cover it. Thank you Brittany for your uh, thorough explanations," replied Mr. Schue looking pleased with himself at finding a politically correct way of describing the girl's ramblings. He turned to the students.

"Any questions? Des questions? Domandi?"

"Non, je pense que vous avez �t� assez clairs, Sam, M. Schue. Uh, thank you Brittany," said Rachel in a heavily accented English.

"Tank you too, I guess," replied Brittany, looking slightly more confused than her usual self.

"Now I'm going to say this in English and then I'll translate in to French and Italian to make sure you all understand me! Right now it's almost noon so I'm going to let you all roam free for lunch and for the rest of the afternoon! I know most of you are still tired from yesterday and from the time change, so dinner will be served at five back at the house. Be sure to keep you phones on you at all times and to call me if you get lost. Also, please stick together, I don't want little lost lambs, so groups of 3 minimum, ok? Lastly, I would like for there to be at least one person in each group with at least a rudimentary understanding of English so please make sure to talk to each other and figure something out. Sam, stick with Finn, I know he doesn't know any English."

'Sure thing Mr. Schue. Want me to translate for the French again?"

"Yeah, thanks Sam I'll tell the Italians."

Sam turned to his friends and began to relay the message.

"Ok alors M. Schuester nous a donn� l'apr�s-midi libre pour aller manger et explorer la ville ou quoique ce soit. Le souper est � la maison, � 17 heures alors soyez-y. Il veut qu'on se mette en groupes de trois minimum avec au moins une personne qui puisse parler et comprendre un peu d'anglais. Finn, mec, j'suis avec toi. Aparts de �a il veut qu'on ai nos cellulaires avec nous en tout temps, comme si on fesait pas �a d�j�, et qu'on l'appelle si on se perd. Au pire si vous vous perdez on habite sur la rue President Kennedy et Maple Road alors prenez un taxi si vous vous savez pas comment rentrer � la maison. Vous aves tous vos mappes?" Ok, so, Mr. Schuester basically just gave us the afternoon off to go have lunch and to see the city, or whatever. Dinner is at 5 at home so be there. He wants us to be in groups of 3 at least and for one of us at least to have some basic English. Finn, dude, I'm with you. Aside from that he wants us to have our phones on us at all time, as if we didn't already, and to call him if we get lost. Worst off, if you get lost, we live on President Kennedy and Maple Road so hail a cab if you don't know how to get back. You all have your maps?

"Ouais, ouais, Bieber, on a nos mappes, tu peux arr�ter avec ta petite routine de prof." Yeah, yeah, Bieber, we got our maps, you can stop with that whole teacher routine now.

Sam ignored Santana's comments.

"Super alors! Mercedes, je sais que ton anglais se limite � des chansons de Tina Turner alors tu peux te joinndre � moi et � Finn si tu veux." Awesome then! Mercedes I know your English is basically limited to Tina Turner songs so you can join me and Finn if you like.

Mercedes shot the blond a shy smile and nodded her head yes. Quinn also wanted to go with them to be with her boyfriend, and obviously Rachel tagged along to keep an eye on the two. They quickly stood up, arguing amongst themselves already and made their way out the door, forgetting Santana and Kurt behind.

"C'est toi et moi, Princesse Arc-en-ciel." It's you and me Rainbow Princess.

"Tu parles tu un peu d'anglais, Satan?" You speak any English, Satan?

"Assez pour pogner des gars et commander une bi�re. Toi?" Enough to pick up guys and order a beer. You?

"Assez pour discuter les nouveaut�s dans Vogue." Enough to discuss the new releases in Vogue.

"Alors on est dans la merde, quoi." So we're pretty much fucked then.

"Plus ou moins, ouais." More or less, yeah.

They remained seated at their spot until Mr. Schuester caught sight of them.

"Santana! Kurt! Vous �tes seulement deux? Joignez vous au groupe ici, ils sont deux aussi." Santana! Kurt! You guys are only two? Join this group here they are two also.

Mr. Schuester was pointing at Wes, the boy in the Dalton uniform still and of course, Blaine Anderson.

Because life doesn't give me any breaks, does it, thought Kurt to himself, ignoring the other voice in his head saying that being in a group with Blaine for the enitre afternoon was not only life cutting him a break but handing him a gift.

Regardless of what he might have thought, Kurt and Santana stood up and made their way to the two boys who were whispering frantically between them.

"On vous d�range pas trop j'esp�re?" We're not bothering you boys too much I hope?, asked Santana in her best sultry voice with a bat of her fake lashes.

Obviously she wasn't planning on paying for her lunch.

"English Santana! Fais un effort!" interjected Mr. Schuester.

"Ok, ok, oui. Yes. Whatever."

Kurt smiled to himself. Figures "whatever" would be one of the few words in Santana's vocabulary.

"So, um, which between you English?" asked Kurt, wondering if he was making a fool of himself by messing up in front of Blaine. Blaine who was probably fantastic in English already and saw Kurt for the country kid that he was.

"I speak a little of English," answered Wes. "Blaine is, um, hopeless?"

Blaine rolled his eyes at his friends and said something in Italian that clearly meant he got the gist of the conversation. He turned to the group at large.

"We go lunch now?"

He shot a smile to Kurt and Santana and while part of him certainly melted, he couldn't shake the feeling that he reallydidn't like this smile. It wasn't that it looked fake or disingenuine, it just looked... off. Wrong on Blaine's expressive face.

"Yeah, let's go."

The four teenagers were walking down the street the school was on. They'd been walking for about 5 minutes and their group had kind of segmented into two, Kurt and Santana leading the way while Blaine and Wes trailed behind. Not that Wes seemed to mind because he hadn't taken his eyes off of Santana's bare legs and mini-dress covered ass since she stepped in front of him. Blaine didn't know how the girl wasn't a block of ice, he was wearing his thickest jeans, a shirt, a cardigan and his jacket and he was still cold. He had found his own gloves but he couldn't help but think that Kurt's were warmer.

"Continuo a pensare che voi ragazzi l'abbiate fatto di proposito." I still think you guys did this on purpose.

"Sciocchezze. … assolutamente una coincidenza." Nonsense. It was a total coincidence.

"Una coincidenza che tutto ad un tratto David doveva aiutare Thad a tradurre per Nick e Jeff, anche se lui fa schifo quanto me? E sempre per coincidenza tu e io ci troviamo ad andare con Kurt e quella strafiga " A coincidence that all of a sudden David needed to help Thad translate for Nick and Jeff even though he is as bad as I am? And coincidentally you and I had to pair up with Kurt and the hot girl?

Blaine was giving Wes a hard look that he refused to acknowledge.

"Mi mancano le ragazze. Perch� studiamo in una scuola per ragazzi? Guardi che gambe..." I miss girls. Why do we go to a school for boys? Look at her legs...

Blaine rolled his eyes and let his gaze wander to the back of Kurt's head. He knew his friends had plotted for them to end up together, no matter how much they denied it or deflected. He was touched that his friends would go to the trouble to set him up with another boy, especially due to everything that had been going on at home in Italy, but he couldn't help but be slightly miffed. He couldn't be the perfect Dalton boy he needed to be and be around Kurt. Kurt seemed to bring out the crazy lovestruck boy inside Blaine without even trying, and if Blaine was being honest, it scared him. He needed his masks and he needed them to stay put, not to have them pulled off by a boy with too pretty eyes and too warm gloves.

Blaine sighed and continued walking along the street.

"Je sais qu'il ne fait pas aussi froid ici qu'en France r�cemment mais la mini-jupe c'est un peu trop, m�me pour toi. Au moins porte un manteau qui couvre tes jambes!" I know that it isn't as cold here as it's been in France lately, but the mini-skirt is a bit much, even for you. At least wear a coat that'll cover your legs!

"Princesse, le but c'est de montrer mes jambes. On est entour�s d'Italiens qui vont � une �cole priv�e; si je porte mes jupes je n'aurai pas besoin de me payer quoique ce soit. Dieu soit lou� pour les gosses hormonaux." Princess the point is to show off my legs. We are surrounded by private school Italian boys, if I wear my skirts I won't have to buy anything for myself. Praise the lord for hormonal boys.

Kurt rolled his eyes at Santana but he couldn't fight the small fond smile on his lips. This was the Santana he loved, through and through. He couldn't help but admire her Machiavellian ways actually, and he found himself wondering if Blaine would be the kind to pay for him if he wore his absolute tightest skinny jeans.

And then he realized what he was thinking and almost slapped himself. Santana took one look at his flushed face and like the freakishly psychic that she was about all things even remotely sexual, she immediately guessed correctly as to what he was blushing about.

"Tu pense � ton nouveau jouet? Il est mignon Kurt, un sp�cimen vraiment d�licieux. Dommage qu'il est gai mais qu'est on peut faire, non?" ou thinking about your new toy? He's cute Kurt, truly delicious specimen. Too bad he's gay but what are you gonna do, right?

Kurt blushed further.

"Y� pas gai, Santana, tu n'as aucune mani�re de le savoir." He's not gay, Santana, you have no way of knowing that.

"Ah non? Parce que son ami n'a pas arr�ter de me matter le cul depuis qu'on les a d�pass� et le hobbit passe son temps a regarder le derri�re de ta t�te. C'est bon � savoir, il aime probablement niquer en levrette." Don't I? Because his friend hasn't stopped staring at my ass since we passed them and the hobbit has just been staring at the back of your head. Good thing to know, probably means he likes fucking doggy-style.

"SANTANA!"

Kurt smacked Santana on the arm and stared appalled at her as she walked away cackling maniacally. Kurt was just frozen in his mortification in the middle of the sidewalk. That or all the blood in his legs had rushed to his face and neck and they could simply not walk anymore.

"Are ok, Kurt?", asked the warm voice he was growing to love. Blaine's honey brown eyes stared at him with slightly worried brows but a generally amused glint in his eyes.

"Yes," breathed Kurt, bringing a hand to cover his blushing face. "I'm ok".

Santana had walked into what seemed to be a chain-restaurant place that served sandwiches. Through the window, Kurt could see that Wes was already taking out his wallet as Santana perused the menu hanging over head.

Blaine shot his a small smile that while not Kurt's favorite blindingly enthusiastic smile didn't seem to be his weird muted smile and Kurt shot a small one right back.

Blaine reached behind him and opened the door for Kurt, gesturing for him to go in.

Kurt felt a rush of warmth at the small inane gesture, one of simple politeness and kindness and yet one he was entirely unaccostomed to. His smile grew wider as he passed Blaine on his way in.

He'd get to the bottom of Blaine yet.

After lunch, Kurt dragged Santana along to the nearest pharmacy he could find to look for his very much needed hair products. When he walked next to a Walgreens he almost passed out.

Pharmacies in France had nothing on American ones. This was practically a mall.

"God bless America," he said, quirking a brow at Santana who was trying her best to look thoroughly unimpressed but whose gaze kept flitting to the gigantic make up section.

"Pas pire." Not bad.

They entered the store with the two Dalton boys following slightly behind them still. Lunch had been a relatively quiet affair with very little broken English exchanged, but they were now a little more comfortable around each other. Santana made a beeline for the cosmetics, Wes following her like a lost puppy, while Kurt walked the aisles looking for the shampoo. He finally found it and stared in shock and awe at the sheer amount of products lining the shelves. A low whistle was let out behind him.

Kurt turned to look at Blaine who looked just as impressed as he was.

"Incroyable, hein?" Incredible, huh?

"Veramente increbilibe." Really incredible.

Both boys walked the long aisle in an easy silence grabbing bottles from the shelf every once in a while to read the label carefully to try and make out what set it apart from others. A difficult task when you don't understand 80% of what's written on the label.

Blaine eventually quit and decided to pick one by smell, so he walked along the aisle grabbing the shampoo bottles, opening them and bringing them to his nose for a sniff.

He did this a few times before taking the bottle and handing it toward Kurt who was determined to figure out what exactly he'd be putting in his hair.

"Smell?"

"Quoi?"

"Smell! You like?", Blaine was shoving the bottle under Kurt's nose with an entirely too hopeful look in his eye. Like a little kid showing off his new macaroni picture and asking his mom if she liked it. Kurt melted just a little.

He put his hand on top of Blaine's holding the bottle and brought it closer to his nose for a sniff. He closed his eyes and breathed in; it smelled of vanilla and sandalwood and cleanliness. Either a feminine men's shampoo or a masculine women's but whichever it was, it suited Blaine perfectly.

Kurt opened his eyes and looked straight into Blaine's. The boy was blushing slightly but Kurt couldn't figure out why until he felt Blaine's fingers twitch underneath his. Kurt immediately let go of the bottle and blushed in turn.

"It smells nice. Very you."

Blaine flushed a little darker and smiled one of Kurt's favorite smiles, the kind where his mouth was big and open and you could almost see his molars he was smiling so big and his eyes were crinkled little things.

Kurt swore his heart skipped a beat.

"Fantastico!"

Blaine deftly flipped the cap closed and held the bottle close to him as he kept walking down the aisle, smelling no other shampoos.

Kurt shook himself slightly before deciding that he was gonna go with the bottle in his hand. The brand was the same as his back home, and the packaging looked the same. He'd just have to trust his gut instinct. He grabbed the conditioner that went with it and walked down to where Blaine was standing, looking at hair gel. Kurt was looking through the hairspray until he realized what Blaine looking at hair gel meant.

"You wear gel?", Kurt asked, brow furrowed.

"Yes. My hair, uh, crazy? Looks bad no gel."

Blaine was patting down his curls as he spoke as though he was embarrassed by them. Kurt decided that would not do. He leaned over and grabbed the giant gel bottle (really? The extra large bottle? This guy is insane.) out of Blaine's hands and put it back on the shelf with a decisive nod of his head.

"You do not need it. Your hair are nice with none."

Blaine shot him a look that clearly spoke of surprise and disbelief and Kurt wondered for a moment if he had totally just overstepped his boundaries. After all he barely knew the guy and he was taking his right to style his hair as he pleases away from him? He was going to slap him, Kurt was sure of it.

Until the look Blaine had been sporting since yesterday evening melted away and he was left standing in front of Kurt with a look in his eyes that made Kurt want to grab the boy and hold him to him and never let go and run a marathon at the same time. Blaine smiled at Kurt like he was truly touched.

"Grazie, Kurt."

The words were softly spoken but Kurt was convinced that if he had said them any louder they would have barrelled him over and left him on the floor they were so damn earnest.

The rest of the shopping trip was spent with both boys grinning like fools behind their scarves.