Chapter 7

March 2014

"Your turn to draw, Blaine," Dani said. Blaine took the magic marker from her and selected a Pictionary card.  He studied it a moment, and then bounded to the oversized pad of paper set on an easel in front of the group. The loft-mates and their friends were holding their weekly Post-Monday-Night-Dinner Pictionary Tournament, and tonight it was Blaine, Dani and Santana vs. Kurt, Adam and Sebastian. The two teams were arranged on facing couches.

With a silly flourish, Blaine roughly sketched out what Kurt immediately recognized as a round baking dish with a puff of soufflé above it.  Beside the soufflé, he added a circle, with lines emanating outwards around it. Blaine pointed exaggeratedly at both, tapping the circle with his pen in an upwards motion and looking encouragingly at Dani and Santana.

Kurt resisted the urge to call out the answer, which was obviously “The Sun Also Rises." He and Blaine were officially forbidden to play on the same team in loft Pictionary tournaments, since they always guessed each other's illustrated clues instantly, taking the fun out of the game for everyone else.

Ignoring Blaine, Santana slapped her shapely thighs and stood up dramatically. She positioned herself in front of Blaine, blocking the easel from view, and fixed each member of the group in turn with a meaningful look.  Finally, she demanded,  "So are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?" Behind her, Blaine helplessly gestured at the “sun” again, to no avail, before capping the marker and sitting back down in resignation.

"Does anybody know what shes on about now?" Adam whispered to Kurt and Sebastian. Since Sebastian had enrolled in NYADA, Blaine stubbornly maintained their friendship and insisted on including his "good friend Sebastian" in Monday Night Dinners.  And of course, Kurt had gotten stuck on his team.  As a result, Kurt knew he had no hope of winning tonight.  When it was his turn, Sebastian always drew penises or shapely male behinds, no matter what the clue was.  Sebastians naughty drawings always made Blaine giggle boyishly, and always aggravated Kurt intensely.  Two reactions Sebastian never tired of provoking, long after the joke stopped being funny.  Or, in Kurt's opinion, long after the joke never started being funny to begin with.

Sebastian yawned and stretched. "Yes, I do know. I also dont care,” he answered Adam. Smiling broadly at Blaine, he teased, “Unless we turn this into strip Pictionary, or you start drawing some gay porn up there, Killer, I think this is a new low even for a Monday night dinner here. Its even worse than that MarioKart marathon with those two geeky friends of yours - the hot blonde one and the nerd in the wheelchair. Whats next, a spelling bee?"

Santana stamped her foot for attention.   "Hello! I have the floor now! I want us to talk about that plasticine freak Rachels sleeping with, and whos taking up 95% of the bathroom with depilatory agents and bronzer.  Or maybe thats just Rachel's arsenal, now that I think about it."

"Hey, Santana, thats my sister youre talking about. And Brodys her boyfriend, for whatever reason, so ..."

Santana nodded. "Exactly.  So you should be asking what my brilliant detective work has revealed about him, instead of playing party games."

"Okay, so shoot, " Kurt sighed.

Santana looked around, pleased.

"Hes a drug dealer."

Kurt hooted in derision.  

Adam laughed along with him. “Cmon Santana. I've known him since we were freshmen together.  Brodys no criminal."

"No, hes just an idiot,” Kurt agreed. “Hes entirely too stupid to run any kind of business, including drug dealing. He can't even remember to wear a shirt most of the time.  Besides, hes a health nut. Hed never do drugs. Theyre terrible for the skin and teeth. His teeth are huge but impeccable," he finished solemnly.  

"He doesnt have to do drugs to be a dealer. Look. Hes poor," Sebastian started, cut off by a groan from Dani.

"Sebastian!  That's terrible! Being poor doesnt mean hes a drug dealer," Blaine protested.

"If he needed money for tuition it might, Handsome.  He cant possibly afford the tuition at NYADA, and hes not on a scholarship.  He might be doing it to put himself through college.  I really think Latina  Nancy Drew over there is on point about this."

"Thank you. At least one person in this loft can look at the evidence clearly,” Santana said.  "Up high, my fellow bitch," she added, slapping high five with Sebastian.

Blaine cut in. "What evidence, Santana? The fact that you hate him doesnt count."

Santana slipped a hand down her cleavage, fishing around to her underboob area and eliciting grimaces from the four gay men in her five-person audience.  "Sebastian and I went through Malibu Brodys personal effects while all of you were clearing the table and washing dishes and all that boring stuff earlier. We found this."

She tossed a beeper on the table with a clatter.  They all looked at it curiously. Santana  nodded definitively.  "Unless hes a doctor on call, which is about as likely as a turtle being an astrophysicist, this means ..."

Everyone stared at her, uncomprehending, until Sebastian drawled, "Nobody under 25 has a beeper anymore, unless theyre dealing. I know. My father is a State Attorney."

Kurt sighed. "We know all about your important daddy, Sebastian. Youve mentioned him before. Repeatedly. But there still could be a valid reason Brody has that thing."

"Like what?" Dani asked. Blaine shot Kurt a worried look. .

The pager buzzed on the table.  Looking first at Santana, who nodded, Sebastian leaned over and picked it up. He peered intently at the display, and then tapped the number into his phone.

"Maybe we shouldnt --" Blaine started.

"Sssh, Sweet Cheeks. I got this. No need for you to get those pretty hands dirty. Well, at least not that way."  Sebastian winked at Blaine as he put the phone on speaker and set it, ringing, on the coffee table.

"Hello?" A womans cultured voice answered.  They all looked at one another, surprised.

"Hello! You ... paged me just now?" Sebastian answered.

There was a slight pause.  "Brody? You sound different tonight."

"Sure, its me.  You're just on speaker.  Im on the elliptical .... working on my cardio," Sebastian improvised.  "What can I do for you tonight?"

They all leaned forward, eyes trained on the phone.

"Very well,” the disembodied voice said.  “I had a delightful time last night at the opera and … after. Id like a ...repeat performance."

They all looked puzzled at each other, except Sebastian, who seemed to have caught on quickly. "Another escort job then? With ... extras included?"  

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other in open dismay.

"Yes. The opera again, my private box."  

+

Santana spluttered and Sebastian shushed her with a warning look.

"... be prepared to spend the night at my place this time. My husband is out of town."

Kurt shut his eyes.  This cant be happening. Poor Rachel.  

Sebastian continued the sting. "All night ... lets see, thatll cost..."

"Five thousand. I know. Thats certainly no problem. Meet me at the opera house in an hour."

"Oh, sorry ... cant. Wrong number." Sebastian tapped the disconnect button and sat back, grinning.

"Holy," Santana breathed. "Hes a gigolo."

The door clanked open, and Brody ambled in, flashing a toothy, vacant smile.  "Hey, everybody! Oh wow, Pictionary! My favorite! Can I play?"  

"Id say youre definitely a player," Santana smirked. Throwing her a brief puzzled glance, Brody set his keys down and started going through the pockets of a spare jacket hung by the door.

"Looking for something?" Kurt challenged him.  "Can we help you find it?"

Brody dropped the jacket on a chair. "No thanks, Kurt."

Blaine was clenching and unclenching his fists, and Kurt reached to put a hand on his shoulder to try and  calm him.  It didnt work. Blaine brushed off Kurts hand and stormed over to Brody,fixing mim with an aggressive glare..

"Does my sister know about you?"

Brody was taken aback at Blaines tone. "Know what?"  His voice was cautious.

"Know what?  Know what?  Does she know that youre sleeping with other women?"

Brody looked relieved.  "Oh.  That.  We happen to have an open relationship, not that its your business. So if somebody saw me out with a woman, and thats what this is about, its no big deal."  He opened the refrigerator and took out a wheatgrass juice, opening it and raising it to his lips.

Blaine looked uncertainly at the group. "She..she knows you slept with another woman last night?"

"For money," Santana added helpfully. "Does she know you did it for money. And it wasnt the first time? I kinda bet she doesnt." She held up the pager. "You really should keep better track of this. Especially when youre on-call, Dr. Love."  

Brody choked on his cleansing drink.

"Does my sister know everything youre doing, Brody? And … are you being, yknow, careful with your - your customers?"  Blaine asked anxiously.  

"Youre sure not being careful with our little Miss Berry, if that pregnancy scare last month was any indication."  Santana paused at Blaines horrified look. "Woops. That was kind of a secret. My bad."

Instantly, Blaine was livid. "You sleep with strange women -- and then come home to my sister -- lie to her about it -- and arent safe with her?" Blaine swatted the empty juice bottle out of Brodys hand and across the room. Brody actually looked a little intimidated by the much smaller, younger boy.  Kurt couldn't blame him; Blaine was an easy going kid, but he was kind of adorably scary when he got mad. Like a miffed panda bear.

Kurt backed Blaine away from Brody gently. “Blaine, no.  Let me handle this.”  Stepping in front of Blaine, Kurt looked imperiously at Brody.  “Just … Brody.  You need to break it off with Rachel, and then, well, nobody needs to know about this.  Do you get me?”

“No!” Blaine shouted over Kurts shoulder before a dazed looking Brody could collect himself and manage a response.  “He has to tell her the truth!”

“But Blaine, that'll humiliate her,” Kurt pointed out.  “She's better off not knowing about this. We should protect her from the truth, she can't handle it --"

“No,” Blaine repeated bluntly, staring at Brody.  “She deserves the truth.  If she's okay with this, after she knows everything, fine.  But she has to have all the facts.” The others murmured their agreement.

Brody looked around at the group defensively. Finally he found his voice, erupting, “You know what? Screw all of you.   You cant judge me, not with your Congressman dads and trust accounts paying your way."  Dani and Adam, both of whom lived paycheck to paycheck, looked at each other questioningly and then shrugged.

"I never even had a dad, let alone rich hotshot dads like all of you.  It's just mom and me and three other kids.  Moms disabled.  College costs $40,000 a year. Theres still rent, and books and fees and transportation and oh, food. And I have to send everything I make after that to help at home.  Look, I'm not proud of what I'm doing, but I have no other choice. You dont know what Ive been through!"

There was nothing cute or sweet in Blaines golden eyes now. They narrowed so icily that Kurt shivered. Blaine walked up to Brody, stopping an inch away, and issued a cold, clear order.

“Tell her.  Or I will.”

Dani, Santana and Adam also glared over at Brody, who looked down, clearly defeated. He nodded silently.

"Damn, Blaine," Sebastian said, with a low whistle. "You took him to the woodshed. Totally hot, Tiger."   

Kurt felt impressed and vaguely turned on by Blaines authoritative manner as well, but swallowed hard and struggled to dispel his unwanted reaction. When did sweet little Blaine get so...so ... masterful?

Just then, Rachel breezed in at the door carrying a pink bakery box, her belated contribution to Monday night dinner. “Brody!  Hey, babe!  I'm so happy to see you!  I thought you were working tonight - -”  she cut off and looked at all their serious faces.  “What's going on?”  

Kurt sighed.  “Brody has something to tell you.”

~ * ~

“Is she still crying?”

Santana looked up at Blaine, awaiting his reply as he walked out of his sister's room and into the kitchen looking weary.  

Santana was at the table, halfway through the chocolate babka Rachel had brought home two hours earlier. Adam and Dani had slunk away discreetly  to their own apartments, and Sebastian had declared the whole thing made him horny and left to find and pick up a man. That left Kurt, Santana and Blaine left to tend to Rachel's broken heart.  

Blaine nodded. “Yeah, she is, Santana.”

Santana cut another slice of cake. “Geeze.  Really? You'd better get her some Gatorade.  She's probably dehydrated.”

“Santana.”

“I just don't see what all the crying is about.  She couldn't be in love with that brain dead phony.”

Blaine sat down with a slump in the chair next to her.  “But she thought she was. She wanted to be.  And ... I think he did love her.  She needed that, I guess.”  He rubbed his eyes with a yawn.  “Maybe you were right, Kurt.  Maybe her knowing the truth wasn't so great.  She's so devastated and bitter now.”

Kurt shrugged, brushing the crumbs from the table.  “I don't know.  If he'd backed off because we threatened him, and she never knew the reason, that maybe would have been worse. She'd always think it was something she did wrong.  And we couldn't just let him keep lying to her.  You were right.”

“Thanks.  But …”  Blaine looked sad.  “She just told me she can't trust any man ever again.  Well, except you and me. It broke my heart to hear her like that. She's taking this so hard.”

“She'll get through it.  We'll help her,” Kurt said softly.  “At least she can always trust all of us.  You're a great little brother, Blaine,” he said, putting a hand on Blaine's.

Blaine looked down on their linked hands, and smiled sadly.  Santana picked up her plate and left for her room, a knowing eyebrow arched.

***

April 2014

"Hey, Blaine? You have a minute?"

Blaine stopped fussing with the final draft of his Modern Drama midterm paper and smiled to himself. For you, Kurt? Always.  Blaine never missed any opportunity for alone time with Kurt.  He saved his work and shut the laptop.  "Sure. Whats up?"

Kurt held out some pages of typewritten script with half the lines highlighted.  "I have a scene in class tomorrow. I was supposed to practice with my partner tonight, and she just called and bailed on me. Can you...?"

Taking the script, Blaine glanced at it and then up at Kurt, curiously.  "You want me to run lines with you?"

"Yes! Youre saving my life.”  Kurt collapsed in relief on the couch next to Blaine.  “Its the dress shop scene from West Side Story.  Im Tony, so --- I guess if you dont mind reading the female lead ...?"

“No problem.  I'm your Maria, Tony. At your service.”

"I owe you one." Kurt darted into his room and wheeled two dressmakers mannequins into the living room while Blaine skimmed the lines.

"Oooh, props. Fun!" Blaine exclaimed. Kurt chuckled and tossed a top hat on one mannequin, draping a length of tulle over the other.

"Your mama!" Blaine trilled, starting the scene.

Kurt giggled, spinning the "female" mannequin and answering, in character as Tony, "She will come running from the kitchen to meet you. She lives in the kitchen."  

"Dressed so elegant?" Blaine teased coyly as Maria, fluttering his eyelashes.

They went on acting the scene, and Blaine was sure Kurt was the most flawless and handsome Tony ever.  Caught up in the romance of the play, Blaine was thoroughly amazed and enchanted by Kurts spectacular acting, as they knelt, linked hands, and exchanged marriage vows solemnly.  

"With this ring, I thee wed," Blaine recited, breathless and entranced. Kurt really is selling this. It seems totally real.

Kurt launched right into the duet that followed the mock ceremony, and Blaine felt thrilled to his fingertips to hear those beautiful lyrics about "one hand, one heart, one life," sung to him so convincingly by his adored Kurt. Blaine joined the duet, and as always, their very different voices blended and complemented each other perfectly. He loved singing with Kurt.

The script called for a kiss at the end of the scene - alas, only on the hand, but his heart pounded until he feared Kurt might actually hear it when his  soft lips touched the back of Blaine's hand.  

And ... lingered there, with Kurts suddenly stormy eyes fixed on his. Blaine swallowed.  Whats happening?  Is he still acting?  But the scene's over …

They stared at each other another moment before Kurt laughed, a little shakily, and dropped Blaine's hand.

"Thanks, Blaine, so much.  That was … that was a lot of fun.”  Kurt got up off his knees and dusted off his slacks. “I have to say ... I wish you were my partner tomorrow. Youre a lot better than that girls gonna be."  Kurt lightly punched Blaine on the shoulder bro-style as he turned away and gathered up his script, before scrambling back to his room in a suddenly rather great hurry.  The fleeting magic of the moment had slipped away, but Blaine stayed kneeling on the floor, eyes closed dreamily, committing Kurt's voice and lips and smile to memory, a precious treasure in his soul.

May 2014

The elevator pinged open and Kurt struggled out, carrying far too many grocery bags. Funny how a stop for “just a couple things” can turn into a full-on shopping spree, and he hadn't brought his handy grocery cart to lug it all home.  He staggered to his apartment door, loaded down, and banged on it with his booted foot. “Blaine!  Lemme in, my hands are full!”

Blaine quickly opened the door and reached to take two bags from Kurt.  He followed Kurt into the kitchen, setting the bags on the table.  “You went out for a bottle of milk and a loaf of bread.  What did you buy?” he asked, peering into the bags.  “Oooh! Bomb Pops! My favorite!  Thanks, Kurt!”  He quickly ripped one open, shoved it completely into his mouth and started slurping loudly on it.

Kurt slapped at Blaine's hand.  “Not this close to the gourmet Monday Night Dinner I'm planning, please!  Put that revolting thing away and have it after dinner.”  Sometime when I'm not around to see it, Kurt thought uncomfortably. Kurt only bought them because they were on sale and he knew Blaine loved them.  He hadn't thought it through completely.

Somehow pouting around the red, white and blue pop in his mouth, a reluctant Blaine slowly slid the frozen treat back out of his mouth, licking his lips afterwards.  Kurt looked away quickly, putting away the other groceries, as Blaine re-wrapped the Bomb Pop, labeled it "Blaine" with a Sharpie and put it in the freezer.

“So, what are we having?” Blaine asked, folding up the grocery bags Kurt was emptying, and placing them under the sink.  “And how can I help?”

Kurt set a pot of salted water on the stove.  “Rack of lamb with oven-roasted rosemary potatoes.  You can peel the potatoes.” Kurt handed him a five-pound bag and a peeler.  “Put them in a bowl of cold water as you peel them.  When they're all done, cut them into one-inch pieces.  By then, this water will probably be boiling, so drop them in to par-boil.”

“Will do,” Blaine said cheerfully.  “Who's coming tonight?”

“The usual.  Dani, Santana, Sam. Artie and Mercedes.  Rachel.”   Kurt turned the oven on and then started arranging the rack of lamb into a crown on a roasting pan, wrapping it with lengths of kitchen twine he knotted off tightly.

“No Adam tonight?” Blaine asked.  

Kurt glanced over at Blaine, who was standing at the sink, focused intently on his own task.

“No Adam.”

“Sebastian can't make it either,” Blaine remarked.  He was paring the eyes out of the potatoes with a small knife, and Kurt was about to warn him not to hold the knife that way when the potato slipped.  The tip of the knife pricked Blaine's hand and he yelped, dropping potato and knife in the sink.

Kurt dropped the kitchen twine and rushed over.  “Are you okay?” he asked anxiously, grabbing Blaine's hand and examining it.  There was a drop of blood in his palm.  “You're bleeding!”

“Barely,” Blaine protested as Kurt held the injured hand under the running cold water tap.  “It's just a tiny cut, Kurt.”  Blaine looked at Kurt with knitted eyebrows, and Kurt blushed as he turned off the faucet.  He saw that it wasn't anything to get excited about.  He did.  But that didn't stop him from holding Blaine's hand while he pulled a paper towel off the roll and tenderly dried it off, looking down intently at it and avoiding Blaine's gaze.  He held Blaine's hand while he opened the junk drawer and rummaged in it for a small band-aid.  He didn't let go while he looked for the tiny puncture, a difficult task since it had already stopped bleeding, and applied the band-aid.

Blaine ducked his head and then looked up, catching Kurt's eyes with a mischievous look.  “Are you going to kiss it better?” he teased.  Before Kurt could form a response, Blaine smiled.  “Thanks, Kurt.”  He freed his hand and turned to the sink to pick up the potato and small paring knife again.   

Kurt backed into the pot rack, setting the pots and pans clanging.  He scrabbled overhead and pulled down the rest of the cookware he'd need for the meal.  “Just be more careful,” Kurt said lamely. "You klutz."

Blaine eyed him with an odd expression.  “Okay.”  He turned back to the potatoes serenely, and a rattled Kurt started the glaze for the lamb, when the door to the loft flew open with a deafening smash.  The potato Blaine was peeling shot out of his hand again.  “What the hell – Rae?”

Rachel was stamping her way past, flinging her pocketbook at the couch and her sweater at the coat rack.  She didn't answer, but went straight to the bathroom and slammed the door behind herself.

Santana sauntered into the apartment and delicately closed the door.

“Santana, what's going on?  Why is Rachel so upset?” Kurt demanded.

“I have great news, but I think I should wait for Rachel to announce it,” Santana near-shouted.  “Are you coming out of the bathroom, Your Royal Shortness?”

Rachel opened the door with another smash and stood glowering in the doorway.  “Santana came into my theater today and auditioned to be my understudy.”

“Successfully!” Santana interjected.  “I blew the producers away.  They said they'd never seen a Fanny quite like mine.”

Kurt chuckled, “Well, it is a pretty impressive fanny.  Or so the football team back home always said.”  Santana rolled her eyes and Kurt laughed, hugging her. “Congratulations, Santana.  Rachel, you must be thrilled.”  He looked at Rachel and the words died on his lips.  

Rachel was weeping openly.

“Rae, what's the matter? Why are you crying?” Blaine asked, wiping his hands on his jeans and rushing over to her side.  “This is great news!  Your roommate is getting a big break, and you two can work together. Isn't that a good thing?”

“You'd think shed see it that way, but no,” Santana said bitterly.  “Your sisters so selfish and insecure, she can't stand having an understudy, especially me.”

“Rae, all Broadway leads have an understudy,” Blaine said.  He stroked her hair.  “You know that.”

Rachel spluttered, “You dont understand. She sang ‘Don't Rain on My Parade'.  She stole all my intonations.  All my gestures.  All my phrasing, from when I did it at Sectionals sophomore year.”

“Like you didn't steal all that from Barbra Streisand,” Santana said.  “Get real.”

“You couldn't stand it, could you?  You couldn't stand seeing me succeed.  You had to show me up in front of the producers with your fuck-me heels and that tube top masquerading as a dress - -“

Santana shrugged.  “That's what I wear grocery shopping, Berry.  You know that.”

“It proves you know nothing about Fanny and who she is.  You're all wrong for the part.  You don't even want it.  You hate Broadway.   But you had to try to take my dream from me anyway.”

“Rachel, stop it!” Kurt exclaimed.  “It's a job, a part!  Of course Santana would try out for it, why wouldn't she - -“

“That's right, why wouldn't she?  She's only hated me for years and done everything in her power to take what I wanted, for no reason other than to spite me.  First Finn, now this.”  

Blaine looked back and forth between the two girls, but stood by Rachel, holding her around the shoulders.

Kurt shook his head, and tried to reason with Rachel. “Are you being serious?  You weren't even with Finn when Santana slept with him, and that was a million years ago, in high school.  And somebody has to be your understudy.  How can you begrudge her this shot, Rachel?”

“Because she's a selfish bitch,” Santana interjected.  “Everything has to be all about her.”

Rachel threw off Blaine's arm.  “You're taking her side?” she asked Kurt ominously.  “This is ‘All About Eve' times a thousand, Kurt.  She's going to sabotage me and ruin my shot before I even get to take it.  Just because she's jealous and always has been.”

“Guess what, Thumbelina?  That's what the psychologists call projection,” Santana sneered.   “You think everybody was jealous of you, and that's why nobody liked you in high school?” She continued, her words and voice growing more and more cruel.  “Don't make me laugh.  Everybody hated you because you're selfish, short, and horrible.  And you should talk about sabotage.  You'd sabotage anybody who was a threat to you.  Does the name Sunshine Corazon ring a bell?"

“Stop, Santana!  Stop it,” Blaine begged. “Both of you. Please don't say any more.  This is wrong.  We're a family.  Family supports each other, builds each other up.  Our dads taught us that, Rachel- -”

“She's not family.  She's a traitor.  And we're not staying here where people are trying to sap my positivity and bring me down.  I can't handle it.”  Rachel fled to her room, grabbing a suitcase from under her bed.  “Pack your things, Blaine.  We're moving out.”

“No, Rachel, don't do this.  This is our home.  I don't want to move again,” Blaine pleaded.

Kurt looked entreatingly at Santana. “Please, Santana.  Apologize or do something - -“

“I won't apologize.”  Santana looked at Blaine's sad face, then at Rachel's shaking back as she flung clothes into her pink rollaway suitcase, and chewed her lip.  

“She's fragile … she's been through so much,” Kurt begged.  “And you were … really hard on her in high school.  You can't blame her for being suspicious of you. Lets calm down and find a way to make this work.“

Santana sighed, looking suddenly exhausted.  “Kurt, you're a better person than I am.  But I'm not so terrible that I'll let her uproot Blaine again.”  She called over to Rachel, “Put that My Little Pony-ass suitcase away, Berry.  I'll go stay with Dani until this blows over.”

Kurt put a hand on Santana's arm, silently thanking her.

“I'll get my things tomorrow after you all go to school.  I have enough stuff at Dani's for tonight,” she said dully.   She grabbed her purse and walked to the door, gesturing to Kurt to follow.

Once at the door, Santana leaned close to Kurt and whispered in his ear, “You need to keep your eye on Blaine. Youre the only sane person he has left to talk to in this loft.  And a word of advice?  Keep your eyes in your head and your dick in your pants … she'll never forgive you if you act on what you're feeling.”

Kurt drew back, shocked, and Santana smiled sadly at him.  “How she hasn't caught on, I don't know,” she added, voice still a whisper.  “I know how hard it must be for you … in every sense of the word.” She tossed him a smirk at him before continuing. .  “I sympathize.  But dont risk it unless you're willing to deal with the fallout.  And unless you think Blaine can handle it too.  Because it'll be bad.”  She kissed him lightly on the cheek, and then she was gone.