He thought back to the moment when he'd first realised that Kurt Hummel was the one and only person he wanted to be with - Kurt had been so distraught at the death of the Dalton Warblers' beloved mascot, Pavarotti the canary, and had selflessly sung a song in his memory to the rest of the choir. The raw emotion Blaine had seen in that very moment as Kurt had opened his mouth to sing was so undeniably moving that Blaine had struggled to keep his own composure during the performance, and had physically ached for Kurt until the moment a few days later when he had finally found the courage to lay his feelings on the line. He knew that Kurt had liked him thanks to an earlier exchange on the matter, but the thought of being rejected for whatever reason had been almost too much for Blaine to take, and he'd toyed with the idea of simply shrugging off the whole thing and trying his best to forget about his ever-growing feelings. But he had battled through the nerves and had been rewarded with the most memorable first-kiss of his life ... he could almost still feel the soft brush of Kurt's lips against his own, just thinking about it now.

Their romance had blossomed gently, certainly not without its share of bumps along the way, but Kurt had been his first in so many wonderful ways, and Blaine would be lying to himself if he denied the fact that he often still thought about Kurt, wondering what he was doing, how he looked, if he was happy and fulfilled in his life. Their break-up had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to go through, and he had regretted it for such a long time afterwards. But then one morning he'd woken up and suddenly felt a little lighter in a weird sort of way, like a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest and he could finally breathe easier again. His whole demeanour had shifted that day, and it wasn't long before he caught the eye of a handsome young guy in one of his drama classes at the University of Michigan. What they had together was nothing serious and fizzled out fairly quickly, but it was enough to give Blaine the confidence boost that he needed to get out there and start to live his life again, albeit without the man that he dreamed about so often in bed at night.

So here he was, almost four years later - a slightly more experienced, well-educated individual with a little less gel in his hair and a smile which continued to melt just about anyone who was lucky enough to witness it up close. The previous winter he had met an aspiring actor who had swept him off his feet in a whirlwind romance, and while he still couldn't admit to feeling like he and Michael Barnes were soul mates, he had fallen for his spirit and determination, and that had been enough to follow him to New York City when Michael had declared for the hundredth time his desire to work on the Broadway stage. Blaine himself was still a lover of the arts, but he had truly excelled in his English classes at college, and was now a budding writer.

His thoughts had automatically gravitated to Kurt when Michael had confirmed to him that they had a place to stay with some friends of his in NYC ... Kurt had left for the bright lights of the big city soon after Blaine had begun his senior year at William McKinley High School, and although this place was ultimately the reason that the couple had decided to split up, Blaine found himself drawn to it rather than being repelled, and a part of him had always hoped that he might just spot Kurt from across the street one day and at least be able to see that he was doing alright. What he hadn't banked on was being interviewed by him as a potential boss.

Blaine's phone buzzed on the table beside him, frightening him out of his trance. A text from Michael confirmed that he was just across the street and would be with him shortly. And only half an hour late this time, Blaine mused to himself. He caught the eye of the waitress and ordered another two flat whites, resting his chin on his hand and loosening his tie a little more with the other.

In breezed Michael, all smiles and whispered apologies for the lateness. Blaine couldn't help but notice that he didn't look particularly flustered or rushed, and guessed that today's Michael-mood was one of not really giving a crap about much of anything. It was becoming a fairly regular thing. The waitress brought over their drinks just as the couple pulled out of a hug and sat opposite one another.

"So how's my handsome business man?" Michael chimed with a smile.

"Uh ... OK, I guess. Interview went pretty well, and -"

"Oh babe, that's so great! Hey - guess who I saw near Times Square today? You'll never guess ..." Michael interrupted with a flourish. Luckily Blaine was used to this and smiled politely, shrugging his shoulders in response to the question.

"Oh, come on ... at least try." Michael laughed. "I'll give you a clue - he wears glasses."

"Um ... Daniel Radcliffe?"

"Blaine! My god ... those were props, you big doof." Michael rolled his eyes. "Guess again."

"Elvis Costello."

Michael snorted and shook his head.

"Jeff Goldblum."

"Now you're not even trying." Michael huffed in exasperation.

"How is that not trying?" Blaine laughed. "You might have seen Jeff Goldblum on the street buying a pretzel. Stranger things have happened in New York City."

"Yeah, well I didn't, OK?" He huffed again, pouting and turning his head to the wall. He folded his arms across his chest like a petulant child.

"Michael," Blaine coaxed in a gentle voice. "Who did you see?"

Michael turned slowly to face Blaine again and suddenly bounced wildly in his seat. "Only Justin freakin' Timberlake!" He squealed, grabbing the attention of virtually everyone in the coffee shop. He sank a little lower into his chair.

"Does he even wear glasses?" Blaine asked with a frown.

"Of course he does ... or he was today, at least." Michael conceded.

"So did you say ‘Hi’ or anything?"

"Uh ... no!" Michael looked at Blaine like that was the stupidest thing he'd ever said.

"Why?" Blaine asked again, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Uh ... because he might've heard me."

Blaine chuckled and shook his head slowly.

“It’s not funny, Blaine. My god, he was hot.” Michael sighed wistfully.

“I’m sure he was.” Blaine nodded, glancing out of the window on the other side of the coffee shop. A passing family caught his eye and he watched them interact for a while.

“Hey … you OK?” Michael’s voice chimed, breaking Blaine’s trance.

“Fine.” He nodded with a smile. “Just thinking about the interview.”

“Will they be letting you know soon?”

“If I got it? Not sure … it was a group interview, so I guess there may be another before he makes a definite decision.”

“Ah – ‘He’, huh? Should I be jealous? Are you gonna be working under some handsome fashion-designer stud?”

Blaine tried to control the flush he could feel rising in his cheeks and took another sip of coffee to wet his lips.

“Nope, not a designer – he’s the Features Editor.”

“And what about the ‘handsome stud’ part?” Michael smirked, but Blaine could tell he was fishing for an answer rather than just teasing.

“Look Michael, I –“ Blaine began, but was interrupted by the ridiculous ringtone on Michael’s phone. Michael held his hand up and took the call, so Blaine went back to staring out of the window, recognising the way that his boyfriend always spoke to his friend Connie and knowing that the call would probably be a fairly lengthy one.

Almost ten minutes later, Michael’s call finally ended and he reached across the table, squeezing Blaine’s hand in a silent apology. Blaine squeezed back and gave a weak smile.

“So, what were we talking about?”

“My potential new boss …” Blaine said, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Oh yeah. You know you have to get this one though, don’t you Blaine? Cos we can’t keep sponging off’ve Patrick all the time.”

“I know,” Blaine sighed. “I don’t like doing that any more than you do, Mikey. And I’ve been trying my best to get as much money to him as I can.”

“Yeah, but tips from the occasional Open Mic night you might chance upon doesn’t really cover it. I know the job market’s pretty flat right now, but we need a regular income, and you know I can’t do anything right now that’ll take my mind away from my studies on this new Drama course.”

Blaine turned away again, keen to avoid his boyfriend’s gaze as he bit down on the inside of his lip in frustration. As much as he cared for him, Michael could be so selfish sometimes, and it was beginning to get to Blaine more and more these days. He took a deep breath and made a quick decision not to mention anything more about Kurt – that would surely only get him even deeper into a conversation he really wasn’t enjoying.

“I promise I’m doing everything I can to get this job, Michael.” Blaine said in earnest. “I really think it could be good for me.”

“For us.” Michael corrected him.

“Absolutely.” Blaine nodded, taking both of Michael’s hands in his own and giving them a very gentle shake before resting them on the table.

“Well, good.” Michael smiled, glancing down at Blaine’s chest. “You look pretty fine in a suit, y’know.”

“Oh, you like this, huh?” Blaine laughed, straightening his tie.

“Yup. If you don’t get this one, just make sure that whatever job you do get involves some sort of uniform.” Michael smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Blaine nodded with a wink. “I’ll try.”

***

Gina knocked lightly on Kurt's door as she entered carrying a steaming cup of herbal tea. The grin on her face could've lit an entire Manhattan skyscraper.

"So I spoke to Blainey-baby ..." She crooned, setting the cup down on Kurt's desk.

"And?" Kurt said, trying to look busy and sound at least vaguely nonchalant.

"And he'll be here tomorrow morning at ten. He sounded kinda buzzed at the thought of seeing you again."

Kurt raised his eyes and cocked his head to one side. "Are you sure that couldn't have just been the relief of maybe having bagged himself a job if he plays his cards right?"

Gina shrugged, leaning her tired body against the desk. "That's not all he'll bag if he plays his cards right though, is it?" She said with a smirk.

"I can always count on you to lower the tone by several notches, Gee." Kurt smiled affectionately and rubbed her knee, which made her pout.

"I'm gonna miss you, Kurty."

"You won't have time to miss me, honey ... not with this little guy needing your undivided attention." He stroked her tummy very gently and was rewarded with a hard kick against his hand.

"She's a girl." Gina snarled.

"With a right foot like that? I doubt it."

Gina suddenly shuddered and her face fell. She clasped her hands to her face and let out a deep, breathless sob. Kurt, though stunned for a second, jumped from his seat and pulled her up into a fierce hug, burying her face into his chest and rubbing circles into the middle of her back. She clamped her hands onto his sides and wept uncontrollably for a good few minutes before Kurt was able to coax her out of his arms to sit down in his still-warm but ultra-comfy seat.

"Oh god, Kurt ..." Gina sniffled as Kurt handed her a box of tissues. "Look what I did to your shirt."

Kurt followed her eye-line down to his chest, where a big wet stain mixed with mascara smudges was glaring back at them.

"Oh, don't worry about that." He shrugged. "If I can't find a spare shirt floating around the offices of a New York fashion magazine, then I must have died and gone to hell."

Gina choked out a laugh and dabbed at her eyes, grimacing at the make-up she was rubbing off her face.

"Well, I must look a picture."

"You look fine, sweetie. Now what brought all this on?" Kurt asked.

As if on cue, Gina turned her face away again and more tears began to fall. Kurt scooted around the back of the chair and sank to his knees at the side of the desk, turning the chair slowly to face him.

"Honey, come on ... please don't cry." He soothed, taking another tissue from the box and dabbing at a tear threatening to fall from Gina's chin. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, I'm just hormonal!" Gina spat, unable to hide her misery at feeling like her body had been taken over by aliens. "I do this all the time ... I just usually wait until I'm at home with a bucket of Haagen Dazs before I open the floodgates."

Kurt nodded sympathetically.

"I just ..." Gina said, her breath hitching in her throat. "God, I'm really gonna miss you, Kurt."

Kurt rubbed her hands tenderly and held them up to his cheek for a moment. "I'll miss you too ... but it won't be for long. You'll be back before you can say 'dirty diapers'."

Gina laughed shakily again and rolled her eyes. "Dear god, I'm doomed. Well, either I am, or this poor kid is ... I mean, how the hell am I gonna raise a child when I can barely take care of myself?"

"Hey, you're going to be an amazing momma bear." Kurt smiled up at her. "Seriously Gee, you're so much stronger than you think you are."

Gina grumbled to herself and blew her nose into another tissue.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off? There's only a couple of hours left of it anyway, and I think I can cope without an assistant for that long."

Gina frowned but then thought about the proposition for a second. "Well, the phones have been pretty quiet today." She said.

"Exactly. And as your boss I order you to go home at once." Kurt stood up and pointed towards the door with a grin.

"But what if the shit hits the fan just as soon as I leave?" Gina whined.

"Well then, maybe I'll forget about changing the shirt and just take my chances with this one." He winked.

"God, you really are the best boss, Kurt Hummel. Please promise me you won't forget about me completely when lover-boy's giving you blow-jobs under your desk."

Kurt flushed a deep shade of pink and slapped Gina lightly on the knee. "That will not be happening, Gina ... and even if it did - which it won't - I'd never forget you. As long as you want it, this job is yours and always will be."

"Thank you, Kurt." Gina sighed, rising from his chair and giving him a huge hug. "I don't know what I'd do without you. Best ... boss ... ever." She said, stifling a yawn.

"Of course I am." Kurt soothed, ushering her towards the door and grabbing her coat from the back of her chair before helping her to shrug it on. "Now go home and get some rest."

Gina smiled gratefully, switching off her monitor and setting the phone to redirect to the main switchboard. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Wonderful."

"Bye, Gee." He said with a tiny wave, watching her leave before wandering back into his office. He slumped heavily into his seat and let out a deep sigh, worried about his assistant, but more importantly, his friend. And then his thoughts turned to his possible new assistant, who he'd be seeing again tomorrow.

"But what to wear?" He said to no-one in particular.

***