"Good Evening Sir, Welcome to Blue Fin. Do you have a reservation?"

"It should be under Anderson, I'm meeting someone, is she here yet?" Blaine tapped out a silent beat against his thigh while the Host checked the leather bound book.

"No Sir, you're a little early, if you would like to wait in the bar our staff would be happy to assist you." The man gestured elegantly towards the marble bar. Blaine ducked his head in thanks and headed toward it. Perhaps a few moments alone would help him gather what strength and patience he would require for the evening.

He had been sat in the chair no more than two minutes when he heard a familiar voice carry effortlessly across the room. He turned cautiously in his chair, his eyes landing on a petite woman with carefully styled hair wearing a deep pink suit that just screamed designer. The Host didn't seem quite sure what to do with himself in the presence of the rather intimidating Marissa Anderson. Blaine took pity, and in three strides found himself facing his Mother for the first time since his Father's funeral.

"Ahh Blaine, there you are, I was just attempting to find out if our table was ready, but once again I am met with sheer incompetence." She tapped an acrylic nail against the desk top impatiently.

"Hi Mom." The Host grimaced at Blaine in sympathy and finally spoke.

"Your table isn't quite ready Sir, but one of our staff will notify you as soon as it is." Blaine heard his Mother snort derisively and made an executive decision, linking his arm with Marissa's and leading her towards the bar.

"So Mom, how're things?" Marissa perched on the edge of a stool primly, sweeping her dark brown eyes over Blaine.

"You look thin Blaine, are you eating properly?" She straightened his tie, oblivious the the roll of his eyes. Blaine knew that his mother liked to ask questions that gave the impression she noticed what was going on with her son. He wondered to himself if she would even pay attention to the answer.

"Yes Mom, I think I'm capable of feeding myself." He was positive he looked the same since she last saw him.
A waiter appeared to tell them their table was ready. Marissa smiled slightly and followed the waiter between the tables to a quiet area. Ever the gentleman, Blaine gestured for her to sit before he took his own seat across from her. He made to rest his elbows on the dark red tablecloth, but with a stern look from his Mother he quickly dropped his hands to his lap. They perused the menu in near silence, Blaine watching his Mother carefully the entire time. Once orders had been given Marissa cast a shrewd eye on her son.

"I heard you've started working in a music shop." Blaine raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes, I'm trying something new. How exactly..?"

"Oh please Blaine, you don't honestly think I don't keep track of what you're up to? I am your Mother after all. Someone has to." Marissa rearranged her cutlery subconsciously.

"You mean you've got people watching me?" Blaine sat back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

"Not watching Blaine, just looking out for you. You've been spending a lot of time with that Hummel boy again too." Blaine shifted in his seat, Marissa's eyes never left his.

"Are you two back together?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but no. Currently we are not back together. We're just taking things slowly. And his name is Kurt, Mom." Blaine watched Marissa purse her lips.

"All right, Kurt. Is this really what you want Blaine? You want to regress?" The clack of acrylic on the metal of the knife was starting to grate on Blaine's nerves.

"I fail to see how this is me regressing, Mom. Kurt means the world to me, always has. As far as my job goes, it makes me happy. I'm still head of Dad's firm, but I want to be in music." Blaine clasped his hands together tightly hoping the pressure would prevent him from losing his temper. He knew that coming here was a bad idea.

"Oh come on, Blaine, when are you going to leave this phase behind you and find a nice girl? I can live with your sudden desire for an alternate career, but really Blaine, Kurt isn't a long term thing." Marissa's eyes were hard as she looked at her son. A single strand of ebony hair fell onto her forehead, but she made no move to replace it.

"I refuse to have this conversation with you again. I though we were over this. This is not a phase. This is my life. Kurt is my life, whether you like it or not, Mom. If you can't accept that, then we don't need to have a relationship." Blaine's voice was low and dangerous, and his eyes flashed when he raised them to look his Mother in the eye. She simply smirked at him and straightened her napkin.

"How dramatic. You always were quick to anger, Blaine." Blaine's mouth dropped open just a little, his face showing nothing but exasperation. He stood, replacing his napkin on the table gently.

"Goodbye Mother." With that Blaine strode out of the restaurant, never looking back. As soon as the cool night air hit him he breathed a sigh of relief. He dug in his pocket for his phone, dialing Kurt's number.

"Hey, I though you had..." Blaine cut Kurt short.
"Can I come over?" Blaine had already turned in the direction of the taxi stand.

"Um, sure, was it that bad?" Blaine could hear the unmistakeable sounds of the coffee machine being turned on in the back ground.

"You have no idea. I'll be there in ten."

–

Blaine knocked on the door, most of his anger having dissipated on the journey. Kurt opened the door and thrust a steaming mug of coffee at Blaine.

"Why did you knock? This clearly qualifies as a crisis, doors and usual boundaries do not apply. Rule number Three." Blaine smiled gratefully at Kurt, toeing off his shoes and making his way to the living room.

"Okay rant, let it all out, tonight I am your sounding board." Kurt curled his legs beneath him next to Blaine on the sofa. Blaine just snuggled deeper into it, letting his head loll back to rest on the back of the sofa. His voice was soft when he spoke.

"I'd forgotten about our Crisis Rules." Kurt smiled and hugged a cushion to his chest, but didn't say a word.

"I left before she could really get started." Blaine closed his eyes in a vain attempt to ward off the impending migraine. Kurt pulled Blaine's head into his lap and began massaging his temples.

"She gave me the whole 'when are you going to find a nice girl' crap. I really thought we were past this. She was so smug, like every decision I've made on my own is so wrong. She tried telling me I was regressing with the music shop, being back here...you." Kurt's hands stilled for a millisecond, almost imperceptibly.

"OK, I get why you were angry. I can't say I'm surprised."

"I'm not even angry any more; I was. I mean I just...I feel deflated. I guess I was stupid enough to think we could actually have a normal dinner. I'm just disappointed I guess. I really wanted her to be supportive. I'm kind of disappointed in myself, too. I thought I was strong enough not to let her get to me like this." He traced the handle of the mug with his thumb. Kurt's fingers still working magic on his temples.

"You're not stupid Blaine. Your Mother is if she can't see what an amazing son she has, just the way you are. You don't need to be a businessman, you don't need to be perfect, you do not need to be straight. You're amazing, Blaine. Don't let her take that away from you." Kurt didn't take his eyes off Blaine's chiseled features. Blaine opened his eyes, gazing straight up into Kurt's beautiful blue irises. The air crackled with that unknown electricity. Kurt leaned down a little, his hand cupping Blaine's face gently. Blaine blinked slowly, his heart beating a violent tattoo within his chest. He raised his head and closed the gap between them.

The kiss was slightly awkward, upside down, hurt both their necks a little, but still so, so perfect. All the sadness that had filled Blaine's heart since he left the restaurant disappeared, replaced with bursts of happiness. He brought one hand up to Kurt's long neck to hold him there. He didn't want this to be over. He needed to know this was real. Kurt seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he pressed against Blaine a little harder, committing the feeling, the taste of Blaine to memory. Just in case.