Blaine didn't go back to work at all that day after leaving the lawyer's office. He kissed his mother goodbye on her cheek, got in his car, and drove straight back to his apartment.

After he had locked the door, locking the rest of the world outside, he slid down the wall to the floor and hugged his knees, overwhelmed.

This changedeverything.

For his whole life he had been afraid of being close to his father, of telling him what he thought, what his dreams were, who he really was... and now he'd discovered that he could've had him on his side all along. Now he discovered that his mother's words in the kitchen were nothing but the truth (had he really been proud of Blaine?) and he had missed his chance. Now his father was dead, and he'd probably died just as deluded as Blaine had been. What if Mark Anderson had died thinking that his son didn't like him, much less love him? What if he had died thinking he had been a failure as a father, when Blaine had never opened up enough to let him in?

But the contents of Mark's will proved to Blaine that he had listened to more than just what Blaine had actually said. He knew what was important to his son, and he had made sure that those things were included in his last wishes. He'd made absolutely sure that his son knew, even if it was too late, thathehad been very important tohim.

In any other circumstances, Blaine would have been embarrassed to break down the way he did now. He wasn't a kid anymore, he was twenty seven years old, and he hadn't cried like this since he'd endured those horrible hurtful adolescent years at school.

But this... this changedeverything.

"You look... really tired," Heather commented carefully, as she reached for her glass of lemonade. "Is everything okay, dear?"

Blaine looked up at his mother, who seemed seriously concerned. "I'm fine, mom. I've... been thinking a lot, since I heard the terms of dad's will."

Heather put her fork down and leaned over the table to show Blaine that he had her undivided attention. "What have you been thinking about?"

"How thoughtful it was of him to make those donations to the things I care about," Blaine shrugged, his hazel eyes now focused on his salad to avoid his mother's gaze.

"There's something else," she said softly, and Blaine sighed.

They were in a nice restaurant. It was a pleasant Sunday and they were sitting outside in the terrace, enjoying the beautiful spring weather. Blaine believed his mother needed things like sunshine, flowers and lunch dates, to encourage a positive attitude.

It felt wrong to darken such a lovely day with what was going through Blaine's mind.

"I think, maybe..." Blaine gave up any pretense of being interested in his food. "I spent so much time believing he didn't care about me, and now, knowing he did... and the fact that I didn't give him the space he deserved in my life is killing me. I ruined what could've been..."

"Blaine," his mother interrupted kindly. "Blaming yourself for something that 'could have been' is pointless. You were just an insecure kid. Neither of you knew how to get closer."

"He died a month ago, mom, not ten years," Blaine retorted bitterly. "I wasn't a kid last Christmas when I sat at the same table as him and didn't make any effort to change things."

"I still think you're being too hard on yourself," Heather insisted. "Your father didn't know how to change things between you either. I think donating to those places was his attempt to let you know that he cared. Even when he didn't say much, he was still always listening to you."

Blaine closed his eyes. His mother had just echoed his thoughts at the lawyer's office. "I guess I'm just sad he had to die for me to realize how he really felt."

Heather smiled sadly. "I know, dear, but there's nothing to be done about it now."

They were silent for a few moments, letting their thoughts wander, grieving the man they both missed. The waiter stopped at the table to refill their lemonade and Heather appeared to deem his interruption as a good opportunity to move on.

"Have you thought what you're going to do with your inheritance?" She asked as casually as she could.

Blaine bit his lip thoughtfully. He had originally thought about putting it in the bank for when he wanted to buy a house, or get married. But now Blaine was second guessing himself. Had his father intended to encourage him to make his dreams a reality?

"Well..." Blaine cleared his throat uncertainly. "I think I'm going to use his bequest to open the bookstore I've wanted since I was a kid."

His mother seemed pleasantly surprised at his decision. "Really? Blaine, that's fantastic."

"I love working at Dalton's library, and I love being a librarian. But I've always wanted to know what it would feel like to be my own boss, to have something that I created, to make the decisions..."

Heather smiled, and Blaine thought that was the first heartfelt smile he had seen from her since his father had died. "You know, I think that's exactly what your dad would have wanted for you."

Blaine felt a pleasant tingling of pleasure. "Do you really think he'd be okay with me using his money for that?"

"Yes. I think he'd be more than okay with anything that makes you happy," Heather answered sweetly.

Blaine felt a weight suddenly lift from his shoulders.

Blaine had to stand on the tip of his toes to reach the Algebra book, and once he had it, he smiled triumphantly before handing it to the boy who had asked him for his assistance to find it. After thanking him, the boy turned and headed to a table with the book, so he could start working on his homework.

Blaine went back to his desk, absently pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose, his attention back to the screen of his computer. Since he had presented his idea of the bookstore to his mother, Blaine had been looking for the ideal location online during his quiet times at the library and his even quieter nights at home. He knew exactly what he wanted, and now he just had to find it.

He clicked through a few more pages without being interrupted by any of the students looking for a book, until he noticed someone standing near his desk, looking down at him.

"Hi, Blaine."

Blaine snapped his head up, recognizing the voice immediately and hating his immediate blush when he saw the tall, attractive blonde man staring at him with those disarming green eyes.

"Uhm. Hi. Hi, Mr. Altwood," Blaine replied nervously, his hand instantly moving to his glasses to shift them up his nose, as he tended to every time he was anxious about something.

The other man laughed lightly. "Oh, come on, Blaine. We're close to the same age! You can call me Josh," he winked charmingly.

"You're a teacher here," Blaine pointed out needlessly, as if that explained his apprehension.

"And you're the librarian," Josh shrugged. "Different title, but we have the same status."

Blaine managed a little smile. "Right. Uhm. Can I do something for you, Josh?"

"Actually, yes," Josh confirmed emphatically. He looked for a piece of paper in his pocket. "I was thinking about including some information from this book in one of my lessons, and I wanted to make sure there were enough copies available here in case the students need them for an assignment I'm giving them."

Blaine took the piece of paper Josh offered and typed the name of the book to check the catalogue inventory. He was very aware of Josh's probing eyes on him the whole time, and he hoped his cheeks weren't still on fire.

He really sucked at talking to hot guys.

"We have three copies at the moment," Blaine informed him, slipping into his professional role as a shield. "If you think more will be needed, I could try talking to the dean..."

"Oh, no, no, that won't be necessary," Josh smiled brightly at him. "But thank you."

"Good," Blaine said, a little awkwardly, as he slid the paper back over the desk to Josh.

"You know, I was wondering why..." Josh leaned intimately over the desk, his voice going a little lower, "I never see you in the staff room. We've both been working here for a while and I know practically nothing about you."

Blaine once again pushed up nervously on his glasses, wondering why Josh would care. "There's really nothing very interesting to say."

"I'm sure that's not true," Josh said, smiling in that way that was so unfair because it made him shiver in a mix of anxiety and excitement. "Would you go out for dinner with me this weekend?"

Blaine blinked in astonishment. "Dinner? With you?"

"Yes, with me. Do you like Japanese food? There's a lovely new place I've been dying to try," as he leaned even closer, Josh's voice was getting softer and lower, and it wasdoingthingsto Blaine.

"Well, I..."Say yes, say yes, say yes. "I would lo-... oh, I actually can't," Blaine suddenly realized, terribly disappointed. He had made arrangements with an agent to visit potential locations for his bookstore and he had been excited about it all week. "I have several appointments this weekend and I... I don't really have time to move them..."

Josh frowned briefly but then went back to smiling. "I understand. Why don't you let me know when you're free, then? We can reschedule whenever you want."

Blaine apologetically nodded his agreement, then watched Josh turn with a wink and walk out of the library.

Blaine barely managed to stop himself from banging his head against the desk mostly because a student approached him to check out a book. He didn't know Josh very well, but he seemed nice. He was certainly attractive, and it wasn't hard at all to picture Josh's face as the husband in his romantic marriage fantasies.

But since Blaine was so stupidly shy, he would probably end up alone forever.

He forced himself to take a deep breath and stop feeling sorry for himself. Not all was lost. Yes, he had to turn him down this time, but Josh had told him to let him know when he was free. The door hadn't closed yet, even if it was only ajar.

Blaine just needed to be brave enough to push it open and walk through it next time.

It was a disaster.

None of the places Blaine saw were anywhere close to right. There was something critically wrong with all of them, and if there was one thing Blaine didn't want to compromise on, it was the place he had been dreaming of owning for years. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he wouldn't settle for anything less.

He dropped his keys on the small table by the front door when he returned to his solitary apartment. It was nearly dark outside and he had been out since very early, going from store to store, without seeing anything that could conceivably work. He took his light jacket off and hung it in the closet before going into the kitchen, opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass. He took it with him to the living room, where he kicked his shoes off and set his glass on the coffee table before he flumped sullenly down on the couch. He was tired, and more than a little frustrated.

He knew he hadjuststarted looking, but what if he never found the perfect place he could already imagine every flawless detail of in his head?

Blaine shook his head glumly, dismissing the idea that it wasn't out there somewhere waiting for him to find it and took a sip of his wine before letting his head drop back against the couch. He was being ridiculous. It was just a bookstore. He would find the place eventually. It wasn't like he was desperate to leave his job: he loved working at Dalton. He just wanted to try something different.

Being a librarian in the safe, secure world of Dalton Academy meant he was sheltered. He hid amongst the shelves and the books he loved, and only appeared if someone asked for his help, but he didn't take any risks. Having a business of his own, even if it was only a small bookshop, would change that.

It thrilled him and it terrified him at the same time.

But if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he wasn't going to give up his search until he found the perfect place.

For the next few weeks, Blaine filled every spare moment he had with appointments to see every possible locations for the bookshop. The best time to give his dream a shot would be during the summer break, so he wouldn't have to leave Dalton at the end of the school's year, when he was needed most. If the bookshop became a success, he would be able to let the dean know he wasn't coming back with enough time to hire a replacement before the next term began. It would be a win-win situation for everyone.

Once he had seen every prospective place in Westerville, Blaine started looking into the surrounding towns. That, and visiting his mother regularly was consuming all his free time, and weeks later he still hadn't taken Josh on his invitation to go out with him. Blaine promised himself he would call him when he had enough time, but he knew he was stalling because dating scared him, even if he didn't want to admit it to himself.

"Do you want me to go with you for another opinion, Blaine?" His mother asked him one night, as they worked together making dinner. "Because I have the feeling you're being too picky..."

"What's wrong with wanting it to be perfect?" Blaine retorted defensively as he mashed the potatoes.

Heather simply kissed his cheek, silently smiling, and took a bowl of beans to the table. She knew what a big step this store was going to be for her bookworm son. When he was ready, he would get on with it.

It had been a very long week, and an even more interminable day. Blaine would never understand why students left everything for the very last possible minute, why they couldn't study for a test earlier or would leave writing a paper until less than two hours before it was due, but regardless, the library at Dalton had been a continuos succession of erratic boys in blue blazers rushing in and out, as Blaine patiently helped them find books and reshelved the ones they'd abandoned.

If he hadn't been as exhausted as he was on yet another store hunt with his agent, Blaine would have realized sooner that the place he had just walked into was the one he had been dreaming of finding forever.

It was the third place he'd looked at that day, and he'd had to drive all the way to Lima to see it. The previous two hadn't been anything special, but this one...

"It needs a lot of work," the realtor said, not even trying to sound enthusiastic anymore. She was convinced Blaine would never find what he was looking for, not after rejecting all the other stores she had showed him. "But the price and the location are well within your range," she added, in a desperate attempt to justify having to drive all the way to Lima.

Blaine's hazel eyes took everything in: yes, it needed a lot of work. The floors were covered with a decrepit grey carpet, the walls needed patching and new paint, the ceiling had a few holes through which he could see a tangled skein of loose wires, so the electric system would definitely need to be inspected, and the tiny bathroom was moldy and damp.

But it also had large bay windows that would allow the sunlight into the shop all day, making it cozy and welcoming, and the barren interior was actually part of its potential. He could do anything he wanted in here. Blaine took a few more evaluating steps inside, his imagination working at full speed, imagining the walls painted in warm colors, the place filled to the rafters with books shelved on nice wooden bookcases, and some comfortable chairs here and there. Perhaps knocking down that storage wall to make it even more spacious, to maybe add a little children's section on that side...

"Okay, if you're done here, the next place I'll have to show you is on..." The realtor started to say, reading her listings without interest. It was evident she just wanted to get this day over with.

"This place is perfect," Blaine interrupted her, still deep into his fantasy, but beginning to smile with excitement.

The realtor's eyes went huge, hardly daring to believe it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Blaine said decisively, as he turned to look at her. His hands were tingling, needing to start working, to start planning, to start making lists of everything he wanted to do. "How soon can we get possession?"

She blinked and went through a binder she was carrying. "I don't have an offer here with me, but I could prepare one for Monday, and then it's up to the lawyers. The place is available now."

"Monday it is," Blaine grinned.

He couldn't wait to get started.

Blaine signed an offer first thing that Monday, proposing a price thousands under what he would have been willing to pay, the asking price a bargain because of the rundown condition of the place. After that, he stopped by his mother's house to take her out for lunch to celebrate. They went to her favorite restaurant and, even though he had to go back to work after they were done eating, Blaine ordered champagne. Reasons to celebrate weren't very numerous lately, and he decided this one qualified as wonderful news.

Heather reached across the table to take his hand after they had toasted to Blaine's dreams finally taking shape, and looked at him in the eyes. "You know, Blaine, dear, I understand that you won't be able to spend every spare minute with me any more..."

"I like spending time with you, and I still will" Blaine replied immediately, squeezing her fingers gently.

"And I'm really glad you do, but before your father died, I only saw you for dinner once a week, and that was only if you weren't busy," she leveled a knowing gaze at him. "Just because I'm a widow now, doesn't mean you have to be constantly by my side all the time, taking care of me. I'm not helpless."

"Mom, don't be like that," he said sweetly. "Spending time with you and taking care of you aren't obligations. Those are things I enjoy doing."

"I'm going to ask you a question, dear, and I hope you won't get mad at me, and you'll answer honestly," Heather leaned a bit more towards him. "When was the last time you went out on a date?"

Blaine could feel the color rising in his cheeks and he took a sip of champagne to gain some time to compose himself. "Why does that matter?"

"Because I'm pretty sure the only people you spend time with are the Dalton kids that go to the library, and me," Heather answered, and she was clearly worried. "You need friends your age, and you need to go out on dates, have fun, maybe find some romance..." She sighed and reached to tuck one of his curl that had broken out of the gel back in place. "You're not in high school anymore, Blaine. You're not a teenager anymore. You're a man, and you are allowed to live your own life. You don't need to hide amongst your books anymore."

Blaine swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. "That's a pretty funny thing to say when I'm about to open a bookshop..."

Heather cracked a tiny, tight little smile. "You know what I mean."

"Mom..." Blaine whispered, as a warning.

"You've already spent too many years being lonely and unhappy, Blaine," Heather whispered back, the grip of her hand tightening slightly in his. "Don't you think it's time for you to change that?"

Blaine wished he had an honest answer to give her.

The spare time that Blaine had previously dedicated to find the place for his bookstore was now redirected to planning all the renovations he needed to create his new store from the shambles it was now. He had made a list of everything it should have, but when it came to rebuilding, rewiring, knocking walls down... he was useless, and he knew it. So he found a few phone numbers from handymen to consult with.

He scheduled his initial consultation for Saturday morning. He arrived at the bookshop-to-be half an hour earlier, buzzing from excitement, with a medium drip he had gotten on the coffee place around the corner, the Lima Bean. He spread out all of his carefully-written ideas and plans on a small, creaky old wooden table he had found while exploring in the backroom after purchasing the place. The backroom was full of stuff he wasn't going to need, and others that could come in handy at some point, but he still needed to go through it all and sort it.

He had also found a worn old armchair that he intended to reupholster, maybe change the ugly brown velveteen fabric for something more lively that he could possibly use in the children's area...

He added that idea to the list, so he wouldn't forget.

Blaine took a sip from his lukewarm coffee just as someone knocked on the grimy glass door (point number fifteen on his list: clean absolutely every inch of the glass to let in the light). He quickly stood up and moved to the door to unlock it, smiling with anticipation at finally beginning to make this dream a reality.

And that was when his breath hitched and then abandoned him completely, because the most attractive man he had ever seen was standing before him.

His chestnut hair looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, but somehow, instead of making Blaine want to offer him a comb and maybe some product to tame it, he wanted to run his fingers through it to gently smooth its thick tresses back. He had pink, luscious lips, and the pale skin of his jaw and chin was dusted with a light layer of stubble, below a scattering of faint freckles over his nose and cheeks. Blaine wished he would take off the black Ray-Ban wayfarer sunglasses so he could see what color his eyes were, but his attention was soon drawn to other areas of the man's body.

He was wearing a tight, tight,tightwhite short-sleeved t-shirt, and the way it hugged his arms and chest made Blaine's mouth go dry. The pair of impeccably fitted tight washed-out jeans he wore were loosely cuffed over black leather combat boots.

But what really made a heated shiver run down Blaine's spine was the leather tool belt hanging low around the guy's hips. He hadn't evenknownhe had a thing for guys with tool belts... untilnow.

The man cleared his throat and a sharp eyebrow arched over the rim of his sunglasses.

"Oh," Blaine shook his head blankly as he felt his embarrassing, omniprescent blush making its way up his face. "Y-you must be Kurt Hummel. I'm Blaine Anderson." He extended a hand, hoping it wasn't sweaty but not wanting to make it obvious how nervous he suddenly was by wiping it on his pants first.

"Yes, I'm Kurt," he answered, and his voice was a lot higher than Blaine had expected. He certainly hadn't sounded like that on the phone. Kurt's hand darted in and shook his so quickly that Blaine didn't have enough time to react, there and gone in a flash, as if he hated being touched by creepy guys with sweaty hands. "And now I understand what you meant when you said the place needed a lot of work."

"Almost a full renovation, yeah," Blaine nodded as he moved aside to let him in. Kurt strode to the middle of the room and looked around, his hands propped on his hips brifly distracting Blaine, probably assessing the immense amount of work to be done. "I have a list of all the things I noticed that need work..."

Kurt took his sunglasses off when Blaine handed him the list, and absently hooked them on the collar of his t-shirt as he took it. His eyes were stunning, a flash of blue that Blaine barely had time to appreciate before they were being lowered to read the list.

"Electrical wiring needs to be completely redone, remove the carpet, knock storage wall down, renovate bathroom, fix ceiling, patch holes and paint..." Kurt looked around with his lips thinned, shaking his head in warning. "You really should just knock the whole place down and start over."

Blaine smiled politely and readjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "That would have probably been easier, but, to be honest, I think making those changes and fixing only what needs to be fixed will be better because we'll keep the character of the place. I know exactly what I want it to look like, and building something from zero wouldn't give me that. This place feels right. It just desperately needs some help."

"You need to start with all the electrical stuff first," Kurt commented thoughtfully, as he walked around. "It would make it easier to work on the rest once you have electricity for whatever tools and lighting you need. The natural light may not be enough to work in here sometimes."

"Okay, electric stuff first, then," Blaine grabbed a pen, eager to start organizing the next steps.

"Which wall do you want to knock down?" Kurt asked, expressive eyebrow going up in inquiry.

"That one, the inside wall," Blaine said, pointing at it. "I want to open that section a little more, and as far as I can see, it just cuts the place up, and doesn't really serve any function."

Kurt stepped firmly, listening as he flexed his leg repeatedly to thump on the floor. "Sounds like you have hardwood floors under this old carpet. Hopefully they won't be ruined when it's taken off."

"What if they are ruined? Can they be replaced or refinished?" Blaine asked, pen paused on the notepad where he was writing everything down.

Kurt simply nodded, obviously deep in thought. "What kind of store are you planning to open here?"

Blaine beamed with enthusiasm. "It's going to be a book store."

Kurt snorted dismissively. "Abook store? In the middle of Ignorance, Ohio?" He rolled his eyes and smirked, barely holding his derisive. "Good luck withthat."

Blaine felt his enthusiasm falter. "L-lots of people still like to read."

His captivation with the man disappeared as his insecurities made their way to the surface. What if this venture failed? What if his dream wasn't worth it?

Kurt paced around a little more, pointing a few things he noticed that also needed to be checked or repaired. Blaine kept taking notes, but only halfheartedly. It felt like he was picking the place apart, searching flaw after flaw, though the lack of sufficient heating ducts was something he hadn't actually noticed before, imperative in an Ohio winter.

"I need to make a few phone calls, and recheck my calcularions, but I think by tonight I can email you an estimate of what it would cost you to get all this done by tonight," Kurt finally said. "But from what I've seen... I can already tell it's not going to be cheap."

"Okay," Blaine obligingly wrote his email address on piece of paper and passed it to Kurt before putting his notepad down and recapping his pen. "I'll wait for your email, then. I'll probably let you know my decision by the end of next week. I wanted to confer with a few other people, too, so I guess I'll have to weigh my best options..."

Kurt nodded, then unhooked his sunglasses from his shirt and slipped them on. He tucked the piece of paper with Blaine's email address on his jean's front pocket, and Blaine forced himself not to watch how the denim tightened even more as he did so. "Sounds fair."

They shook hands again. Blaine's wasn't sweaty anymore, no longer nervous at all. "We'll be in touch, then."

"Sure. See ya," Kurt turned around and walked out of the store, back out to the sunny Saturday morning, and climbed onto a black pickup truck.

Blaine watched him drive away but he already knew that, no matter what, he wouldn't be calling Kurt back.

He didn't want to spoil making his dream come true by hiring an asshole to help him. Even if he could really appreciate the sexy tool belt look, Blaine didn't want someone who had such a negative attitude about his dearly held hopes working here.

No, that had been the firstandlast time Kurt Hummel would step into his soon-to-be-perfect-book store.