Rachel's tears were fake. Blaine hadn't seen her fake tears in a long time, but she still wasn't that good an actress when she was off stage to be able to actually fool him. Still, he managed to hide his own smile to face the judge.

"My client only reported what she saw, her perception of things. At this time it is obvious that she was wrong, but it is not her fault that she saw it that way."

A blond woman a few years younger than Rachel stood up from behind the table on the other side of the court. "Rachel Berry saw nothing. She messed up during her audition and she went out of her way to sabotage me because she knew she wasn't going to get the part and she planted the…that stuff on me."

"Order! Order!"

Blaine sighed and waited until Marissa Starr had taken her seat again. It was all just getting more and more ridiculous and petty as it went on and Blaine was more than ready to drop Rachel's care simply on the fact that it had no reason being in court.

Yes, the possession of the drugs Blaine had no doubt Rachel had actually planted in Marissa's purse was something the jury did need to determine, but Blaine had never before had a case that was at its root about something as silly as the lead role in a musical.

"There is no proof that Ms. Berry planted the drugs, and furthermore my client has made it clear in many campaigns her stand on the use of drugs such as the marijuana in question."

The judge, a man that Blaine knew well, looked between him and the stick thin woman that was representing Marissa.

Marissa embodied everything that was a threat to Rachel. She was younger, a pretty face, fresh new talent, and to top it off could sing almost as Rachel could if not better. Marissa had already taken a role from Rachel a few months before, and it was all the proof Blaine needed to know that Rachel had sabotaged Marissa. Even though Rachel had achieved all the success that she could have ever wanted, she was still as ambitious as ever and Blaine was seeing just what she would do to not be dropped from the top.

What Blaine didn't understand was how Rachel had gotten the pot seeing as she refused to admit she'd done it. It could be the only thing that broke their case, if her dealer or a witness testified about Rachel acquiring the drug. Blaine doubted it was going to happen – who would admit to selling drugs or using? Still, it was a concern, if a minor one.

By the time court let out for the day without a decision made because despite how minor the case was the fact that Rachel Berry was somehow involved made it one they wanted to drag out for another few days.

There were reporters outside the court house. Blaine had never before had a case so important that he was hounded by reporters, but it wasn't his first instance dealing with them. Back when he was younger and still on talking terms with his father, he'd been around when Drew was in the middle of something to do with the Hummels.

He lead Rachel past them, not answering a question as his father had done before him and trying not to let them and their ridiculous assumptions goad him into stopping to talk to them. Not knowing how he'd get out of the fray, he followed Rachel into the car.

"Blaine Warbler," Rachel said, "you are the greatest lawyer that ever was."

Blaine snorted. "Right. Well, I have to tell you, Rachel, that although I am serving as your lawyer, I don't think what you did was right at all. That poor girl's career is ruined, you know."

Rachel opened her mouth in surprise. "She's getting more publicity," she stated calmly after a moment, "than she could have ever dreamed of, because of me. Her career will only go up from here. Do you know what scandal does? It puts your name out there. No publicity is bad publicity."

She was partly right. Except that what director would hire Marissa when it was possible that she was some sort of drug addict?

"Where did you get the pot, Rachel?"

Rachel looked like she was going to start denying planting it again, but she stopped. "Puck," she said a moment later and added in an undertone, "it's very calming, you know."

Blaine gapped at her. "But your voice…" he began.

"God, Blaine, you really are as innocent as ever, aren't you? You can bake it into things like brownies or cupcakes, you know, that way you're not smoking it. It's stronger that way too."

Blaine had known that, but he'd never thought that Rachel could bring up the topic so easily and speak about this way. But that was fame and money wasn't it? Finn was some sort of alcoholic and Rachel was eating brownies laced with pot. Suddenly he began to wonder if Kurt was into any of the same stuff. He partied often enough.

"Drop me off at my office, Clark," he called to the driver when he'd gotten over the shock.

Clark gave a nod and Blaine turned to look at the window.

"Oh, come on, Blaine, I wasn't going to stay that silly girl following on Barbra Streisand's footsteps forever. You always experiment a little in college and when I made it big and even just being with Finn, it brought me into this world and you have to believe it opened opportunities to me. And then, later, it was to blow off steam. Do you know how light it makes you feel?"

Blaine didn't and he didn't really want to know. He couldn't even handle taking medication when he was sick because he hated the idea of putting any of that into his body. He didn't even drink more than a few beers when he had to, not since College anyway.

He didn't talk to Rachel again until he was hugging her goodbye. "Don't do anything stupid, Rachel, if anyone has any evidence that you're doing drugs it could throw the entire case. And don't contact the director just yet."

Rachel grumbled something but agreed and Blaine got out of the car.

"Thanks, Clark," he told the driver, who had opened the door much to Blaine's protests.

- - -

Kurt pressed a hand to the window and looked down, towards the street below. It was a long way to go.

"Kurt? What are you doing here?"

He turned to face his father and shrugged, "For a long time I've kind of been running from this," he said a few seconds later, returning his gaze to the street and the yellow taxis that shot by without a care in the world.

"Running from what?" Burt asked. He situated himself behind his desk.

"This place," Kurt sighed, "I never wanted to be the one to take over after you, but I'm realizing now that there won't really be anyone else and I won't know what I'm doing when the time comes unless it's to do with the magazine."

Burt didn't say anything for a long moment, just staring at Kurt as if he couldn't believe what he'd just said.

"I wanted Finn to take over for me," Kurt admitted, "but all things considered, Mike or Shelby are the better choice and they might even be the ones to do it, but I figured I should get involved, maybe."

"Your mother always said you were more like me than I gave you credit for," Burt said and motioned for Kurt to come sit down, "and I'll admit that this job never appealed to me either. You know I like cars, Kurt."

Kurt knew that well. His father knew more about cars that anyone Kurt had ever met and still sometimes spent his weekends messing around in their garage with the collection of classic cars he'd accumulated over the years. He'd done it more when Kurt was younger, but the cars were still there. Sometimes Kurt would take one out for a drive, but he hadn't done that for a while either.

"That's what I wanted to do, just mess around with cars. But my father told me it was a hobby and nothing more. So, that's what it became and I don't regret it. I think I even like things better this way, but for you Kurt, this isn't what Liz or I ever had in mind for you."

Kurt didn't know what to say. He'd never known that his father didn't expect him to take over Hummel Enterprises the major company that really did control all other aspects of the Hummel Empire.

"It was a long time before I found the person I wanted to run this company, Kurt, and he is absolutely perfect for it though I'm not sure if he'll accept now. The point is, if you want it, it's yours but we both know you don't."

Kurt wanted to ask who would take over, but there was something about his father's expression that told him there was no point in asking because he wasn't going to receive an answer.

"For you those clothes you keep drawing won't just be a hobby forever."

Kurt blushed. Most of his family knew about the books he kept under his bed in a box full of designs that he'd accumulated over the years. Some of them needed to be updated but he knew they were good. Kurt had just never wanted to make his clothes while using the Hummel name. For years he'd put it off, saying just that he would get them out there somehow, make it on his own, and yet that had never happened.

"You should stop worrying about who you are expected to be, Kurt, and instead do what you love," Burt said and then glanced at his watch, "I want you to be happy. We both know you haven't been very happy in the last few years."

It was true. Kurt nodded. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd brought out the old sketchbook or looked through his old things. Maybe it was time he did and he focused on that instead of his fear of what would happen if his father ever needed to step down as chair. Not since Blaine had he thought about actually pursuing it as a career. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what everyone would say. Maybe there was a way of not using his name, not upfront anyway.

"Thanks, dad," Kurt said, "I guess I should go, then."

- - -

Two days earlier…

Nick set Mia down on the couch and sighed. He was exhausted. When the babysitter called earlier panicked because her mother had had some sort of accident, Nick had had to pick Mia up and bring her in to work. He hadn't been prepared to have his daughter at work on the day that new works of art were being brought in and some moved around. She'd added to the whole stress of the day, and Blaine hadn't even been answering his calls when Nick tried to get him to pick up Mia about halfway through the day.

His boss had let him out an hour earlier than usual, at least, but it didn't change the fact that Nick just wanted to leave Mia in her room and go to sleep already. His arms ached from having to carry her around while he supervised the arrangement of the art work and his feet throbbed from the new shoes he'd decided to wear that day. He sat down next to Mia and removed them.

Nick knew he'd left out pork chops to defrost that morning for dinner, but he decided he didn't want to bother with them and got up gingerly to fetch the phone from the other side of the room and to grab the take out menus they kept in the drawer for the table it sat on.

"What do you want today, Mia?" Nick asked, "maybe a pizza might do. It's not like daddy will be home to eat with us, is it?"

Nick turned on the tv for Mia who looked like she was already losing interest of being on the couch and Nick didn't want to have to chase her around the house when she decided it was a good idea to practice her running or throwing skills.

He changed the channel to some child's program and made sure she noticed. He waited until he saw her sit back and fix her eyes on the tv.

Then, Nick looked through the four pizza menus they had, not knowing just what he wanted and from what place he wanted it. After a few minutes he eliminated two of the menus as ones that Blaine preferred for the ones he liked, and then decided on the one closer to the apartment just a few streets away and called for a half plain, half Hawaiian pizza.

He glanced at Mia after he'd gotten off the phone and sighed. Ten years ago he wouldn't have expected this to be his life: being with Blaine, having a daughter, all of it. Still, he couldn't help but love his life, even these like these when he was so tired of being a father. Going to visit his parents, he decided, then, wasn't going to be absolutely horrible as far as a small mini vacation went, especially if he convinced Blaine that he needed to spend more time with Mia. He'd gotten over the fact that Blaine wasn't going to accompany him but it had been an unspoken agreement that Mia would go.

The door opened and closed and Blaine entered, smiling a little. "Oh, you're here," he said, surprised.

"Got out a bit early because I had Mia most of the day," he explained, "I just ordered pizza, should be here soon. I didn't expect you until later."

Blaine shrugged, "I was at court earlier and I went to Burt with the briefcase but even he doesn't know what could be the code to open it. Anyway, he and Kurt were having some sort of meeting tonight and Rachel and Finn were off in therapy, so I managed to get out of there early and barring any calls or complications with Rachel's trial I am free for the night."

As he spoke, Blaine had been taking off his shoes, loosening up his tie and dropping his jacket on a chair.

"Now where is my daughter?"

Mia hadn't noticed Blaine's entrance, so interested in the tv to notice much of anything, but once Blaine rounded the sofa, she was standing and off of it to Blaine. Blaine caught her and picked her up.

"Daddy!" she cried, "you home."

"I am," Blaine said and dropped the couch with her as he kissed her cheek, "I feel like I haven't spent any time with you, sweets."

She snuggled into him, but her attention was drawn again to the tv and Blaine smiled happily, he'd missed this. Nick watched them for a while.

"You really haven't been spending a lot of time with her," he said, "maybe it might be better if she stayed with you when I go home for the anniversary party, that way you guys can spend some time alone."

Blaine nodded at once. "That's a great idea. Yeah, that's…that'd be perfect. Are you sure your parents won't want to see her though?"

Nick shrugged, "I'm not sure to be honest."

It was another reason, Nick knew, why Blaine and his parents didn't get along too well. His mom had never approved of his getting involved with a man that had a baby, for him to take on Mia as his own daughter, and as much as she cooed over Mia and liked spending time with her Nick knew that they didn't actually view her as a granddaughter, not like they saw Nick's niece and nephew.

Mia to them was Blaine's child, Blaine's daughter who came around sometimes and they thought was a very nice girl, but she wasn't family. Nick knew it bothered Blaine.

Blaine nodded. "Probably best she stay with me if I'm not coming anyway," he said.

"Yeah. Do you mind if I go take a nap? I'm not really hungry now, but just save me a few slices."

"Go ahead. I got things."

Nick kissed Blaine on the cheek and dropped a kiss to Mia's head and looked back at the two as Blaine repositioned himself on the couch, never letting go of his daughter. This was his family. He didn't want it any other way. Still he couldn't help but wonder if already things were slowly falling apart. Kurt was back in Blaine's life as a permanent fixture even and lately Blaine saw Kurt more than Nick. Then there was Amie Hummel to deal with and she seemed like someone that meant trouble. And then there was the fact that Blaine was hiding something from him.

"Oh, before you go," Blaine called, "I forgot to mention, Kurt invited us to a surprise party for Brittany, you remember her and Santana? It's a week from tomorrow, I think. I didn't say if we'd go yet."

Nick took a moment to think about what Blaine had just told him. "Maybe," he said, "we can talk about it later."

He remembered Brittany and Santana, more Brittany than Santana due to her strange nature, but he remembered them from the few times they'd met, but that had been years ago.

- - -

Kurt wasn't drinking that night past the mojito Amie had placed in hand earlier, but what he was doing was trying to find someone to dance with that wasn't Amie because she'd already gone off with a tall handsome blond.

"You here alone, darling?" Someone drawled from his left.

Kurt turned his head. "No, not really," Kurt said.

The man wasn't bad looking, he could even be called handsome, but there was a predatory look in his eyes that told Kurt immediately he wouldn't mean anything good, he also smelled too much like cigarette smoke for Kurt's liking.

"Oh. But you are alone right now. We could…" he motioned towards the bathrooms.

Kurt balked. "No thank you. I'm not…"

"There you are," another voice said, coming from his right and an arm snaked around his waist, pulling him back into a warm toned chest, "this guy bothering you?"

Huffing the other man left and the new arrival let Kurt go as soon as he had. "You looked like you needed some rescuing," he explained, "that guy wasn't going to take no for an answer."

"I got that," Kurt said.

Not this guy was more his type. He was just an inch or so taller than Kurt with hair just a shade darker than Kurt and a friendly smile. He didn't even seem drunk.

"What's your name?"

"Kurt. You?"

"I'm Steve. And I have to admit I've been watching you all night." He blushed a little and smiled.

"Oh, really?"

Steve nodded, "and I have to say, I think I like talking to you better, and you're much more beautiful up close."

Kurt didn't like the way Steve was flirting with him. He never came to these places to find someone that was interested in more than a one night stand. Kurt didn't have relationships. After Blaine he'd tried twice to date and actually try and have a relationship with someone but they had both ended with Kurt bored or disappointed in the other.

Steve seemed like a nice guy, but he was a nice guy looking for more than just sex.

"Listen, I…I'm not looking for a relationship or a boyfriend or anything like that. I just want to make that clear. I don't do them anymore and I do have to be careful with who I date, but you seem really nice and I just don't want to lead you on."

Steve frowned. "I…okay." And then he grabbed Kurt's hand, "come on, I like this song."

He had fun. Steve was a good dancer, and sticking to him meant that no one like the guy from earlier bothered him. There was also the plus that Steve was actually funny and kept whispering observations about the people around him into his ear to be heard over the music.

"You're killing me," Kurt said back and turned so he was facing him, pulling Steve closer.

"Well, I'll have you know that your pert little ass rubbing up on me is killing me as much as the jokes kill you."

Kurt moaned and rolled his hips forward, dropping his head on Steve's shoulder, "your place or mine?"

"Don't care," Steve said.

"Mine, then," Kurt muttered and without much more preamble he pulled away, grabbed Steve by the hand and led him out of the dancing bodies, trying to look out for Amie.

"I did come with a friend," Kurt said, "but she'll be alright. Come on."

Steve followed wordlessly, eyes fixed on Kurt. When they got to the exit, Kurt greeted the doorman like a friend.

"Did Amie leave yet?"

"Not that I'm aware."

Kurt nodded. "Alright, well, let her know I left and that Clark will come back for her after he drops us off?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Hummel."

Steve gasped. "Hummel?" he asked, "woah, I was just…you're Kurt Hummel."

Kurt groaned, but walked outside anyway and let Steve follow. "Yes," he said, "I am, but if that is going to interfere with this at all, then just go back inside because the last time I took a fanboy to bed did not end well…in tears actually, I think."

Kurt waited, watching Steve. For once he wasn't more than just a little buzzed and he actually cared who he brought to his bed. And Steve was a genuinely nice guy and if the circumstances were different, Kurt would have accepted a date, but he really just didn't want to go in that direction again.

He was surprised when Steve grabbed his face and kissed him, hard. Kurt gasped in a breath in shock, parting his lips and dropping his hands to Steve's waist as he kissed back. Steve tasted like whiskey and something sweet, and he was an amazing kisser.

"Does that answer that question?" Steve asked when he was done and then he added in a stroke of bluntness, "I want to be friends Kurt, friends that get off with each other. It'd be the perfect arrangement."

"I…" Kurt blinked. The possibility had never been presented to him. "I'm not sure…wow…I…"

Steve grabbed his hands. "Okay, okay, let's just do tonight then. No attachments. I'm amazed about who you are, but right now to me you're just hot and I am so ready to be whatever you want me to be."

The problem was that in any way that Steve put it, there was still some sort of commitment there. Becoming these friends with benefits meant that Kurt had someone to go to when he had the urge, but sex wasn't as simple as all that and Steve was already showing signs that he would want more.

"Okay," Kurt said, anyway, "my driver should be just around the corner."