-The beginning of Summer-

"Why are you angry with me?" demanded Kurt, throwing his arms out in frustration. Half empty boxes were strewn over the hardwood floors and the smell of fresh paint lay heavy in the air. Though they had physicallymoved in to the house over Memorial Day weekend, it was halfway through June and they were still unpacking – trying to find spots for their combined items.

Blaine inhaled loudly through his nose. "Im not … angry. Im frustrated."

"Semantics!" Kurt spat back.

"It isnt for me," Blaine said tightly. "Im not angry with you. I just feel like … like youre making all the decisions about … about everything. And I …" Blaine hesitated, running his hand through his hair, trying to find the words that would help Kurt understand the way he was feeling without upsetting his boyfriend further. "I just thought that wed make these decisions together. That we decided not to move into your apartment or my condo because we wanted to start something new. Together."

Blaine lifted the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. They hadnt bothered to turn on the air conditioning in the house because their plan had been to move the rest of the boxes and furniture in from the garage. "Can I … can I just let you know how I feel? Like, can you just listen to me and try to hear me?"

"Shit, are we in counseling right now? Is this something you saw on Dr. Phil?" Kurt knew his words were harsh, but hed gone into defensive mode when he realized Blaine wasnt happy with the decorating decisions hed made. Seeing the subtle tightness around Blaines mouth and Kurt recognized hed wounded Blaine.

Pressing his lips into a thin, white line, Blaine stared at a point over Kurts shoulder for several long moments before he made his decision. "Fine. Whatever. Do what you want – what you feel is best," he said quietly. Gathering up the empty cardboard boxes, Blaine balanced them on his head and left the room.

When he returned, he picked up a box of picture frames hed packed, and tossed the two hed put on the fireplace mantle in as well. Ignoring the sound of glass breaking, he tossed a quilt his grandmother had made him over the top. As he went to leave the room again, Kurt reached out to grasp Blaines wrist.

"Blaine," Kurt murmured, his tone filled with regret.

"Dont. Just – dont," Blaine muttered. "Its not worth fighting over." Tugging, he pulled away from Kurt and wandered down the hallway to their bedroom where he had every intention of tossing this box into the back of his closet, where it could be forgotten.

Deflated, Kurt collapsed down into the couch, tugging a decorative throw pillow into his lap. Since school was out for the summer, Finn had agreed to cover for Kurt for a few days at the tire shop so Kurt could get some painting and unpacking done. Hed thought Blaine would be excited to realize there was color on the walls, and their artwork and photographs had been hung.

Appearing in the doorway, Blaine clutched the strap of his gym bag in his hands. "You have things under control here. Im going to go to the gym before work. Ill see you tomorrow morning." Blaines voice was measured – holding back the myriad of emotions he felt he couldnt express in front of the man he loved.

"Blaine-" Kurt started to stand up.

Waving him back down, Blaine shook his head. "What youve done so far … it looks really sharp." Blaine turned and walked out the front door.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kurt reached for his cell phone, hitting the second speed dial number programed. Three rings later, his dads comforting greeting washed over him. "Dad? I really screwed things up," Kurt admitted, his eyes filling with tears.

After spending over an hour boxing and lifting weights, Blaine had showered and left the gym feeling slightly less tense. He was still upset that Kurt wasnt willing to hear him out. When theyd discussed swapping his condo with Burt and Carole for their home, a major plus was the idea that theyd be moving into a property that was new to them, that they could make theirs.

So it had taken him by surprise to walk in to the house and find that Kurt had paid to have hardwood floors installed, and the walls painted – all without consulting Blaine. It all looked terrific. But that wasnt really the point. All Blaine wanted was to have a voice in the process. And maybe a picture frame holding a snapshot of Blaine and his closest friends from his days at Dalton Academy on the fireplace mantle.

All things being equal, Blaine meant what hed said; it wasnt something they needed to be fighting about. There were way bigger problems in life than what color to paint the walls of a house – or where to put a throw rug. Blaine certainly helped people deal with their problems every day while at work.

Shaking his head to clear it, Blaine glanced out the windshield of his patrol cruiser in time to watch a dark blue Toyota Camry – a late 90s model given the body type – blow through a four-way stop sign while making a right turn. Sighing, Blaine keyed his microphone, letting dispatch know that hed be initiating a car stop and requesting the license plate be run through the system.

The driver didnt attempt to speed away, but neither did he, or she, pull to the side of the road. "Control, 3 Paul Twenty-One. Still attempting to initiate 11-50 of blue Toyota Camry. Request unit to fill, code 2."

"10-4, 3 Paul Twenty-One. 3 Paul Twenty-three to fill in three. 3 Sam One requests your speed."

"Control, were at 25 miles per hour." Blaine reached over to toggle his siren so it squawked loudly. Lifting the microphone to his mouth, Blaine announced through the loud speaker, "Driver. Pull over. Pull to the side of the road, now."

That seemed to have the appropriate effect as the driver drifted to the right side of the road and parked. Checking one last time if any information had been returned on the license plate of the car, Blaine climbed out of his cruiser, walking carefully towards the other vehicle. As he reached the trunk of the Camry, Blaine saw Dave Karofsky pull up across the street.

Giving Dave a nod of acknowledgement, Blaine walked up to the drivers window and stared down at a 9 millimeter Glock pistol pointing straight at his chest.

Too depressed to continue unpacking after Blaine left, Kurt decided to go to work at the tire shop. There was always something needing his attention. After changing into his coveralls, Kurt grabbed a work order and wandered down the bay, spinning a wrench in his hand, seeking out the truck needing its fluids checked.

The work distracted him from the fight hed had with Blaine – and he found himself singing along with the radio, and Finn. The afternoon hours passed swiftly this way, and Kurt enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment as he was able to pass three tickets back to their office assistant, Erika so she could call the owners to let them know their vehicles were ready to be picked up.

A soft tone preceded Erikas young voice over the loud speaker. "Mr. Hummel? Line two is for you. Said it was urgent."

Kurt extracted himself from the engine of a large Chevy Suburban, and walked to the wall where an older model cordless phone hung. It was ancient technology, and he felt ridiculous holding the enormous phone, but it refused to die – so they kept it out here, where things had to be sturdier. Pushing the button to accept the incoming call, Kurt leaned back into the engine cavity.

"Hummel Tires and Lube, Kurt Hummel speaking," he answered, voice echoing. When no one responded, Kurt sighed and tried one more time. "Hello? Is anyone there? Im going to hang up now."

"Kurt?"

Kurt barely heard Blaines trembling voice. Stomach clenching with anxiety, Kurt stepped down from the SUV and pressed the phone closer to his ear while nearly walking quickly to the office, where he could close the door and shut out the noises from the shop. "Whats wrong, Blaine?"

For several long seconds all he could hear was Blaines harsh breaths as if he were fighting for control of his emotions. "I need you to do something for me," he answered tightly.

"Anything," Kurt replied immediately, throwing a towel in Finns direction to get his attention. "Im here." He waved Finn over, feeling in his gut that hed need his brothers support through whatever this was.

Finn followed Kurt into their dads old office and shut the door, raising his eye brows at Kurt.

Kurt mouthed Blaine in explanation as he tried to understand what Blaine was saying to him.

"I … I … fuck, here."

Blaines voice grew quieter and Kurt realized hed passed the phone to someone else. "Can you tell him what I need?" were the last words Kurt heard before another mans voice came on the line.

"Um, hello?"

"Hi?" offered Kurt.

"Is this Kurt?"

"Yes."

"Kurt, its Dave Karofsky."

Even Dave sounded different – more tense than when theyd met in the locker room months before. "Whats going on? What does Blaine need? Whys he so upset," Kurt asked in rapid fire succession. He could hear other indistinct voices in the background and could tell when Dave was covering up the phone to speak with someone else.

Clearing his throat, Dave asked, "Kurt, where are you right now?"

His avoidance of Kurts simple questions had Kurt on edge. "Dave, fuck, just tell me whats going on. Is Blaine alright?"

Finn watched with concern as the color drained form Kurts face, leaving two bright pink blotches on his cheeks, surrounded by grey flesh.

"Hummel, where are you?" Dave asked again more firmly.

Leaning against the wall, Kurt closed his eyes. "My dads tire shop, why?"

"Sit down."

"What?"

"Sit the fuck down, Hummel or hand the phone to Finn, because I know hes there."

Wondering how Dave knew, Kurt slid slowly down the wall, to sit on the ground cross legged. "Okay, Im officially sitting on the ground. Would you like Finn to verify that for you, or can I be trusted," he snapped, fed up with not knowing what was going on.

Dave sighed heavily but got straight to the point. "Blaine was involved in a shooting today. Hes fine physically, for the most part."

"What the fuck do you mean hes okay for the most part, Dave. Start at the fucking beginning and explain to me what the hell happened," Kurts voice was becoming tighter and higher by the moment.

"Blaine initiated a traffic stop. As he walked up, the driver had a gun pointed at him. We think the driver had the safety on when he tried to fire on Blaine. Blaine pulled his weapon and shot and killed the driver. I saw the whole thing go down in the matter of seven seconds. Its on my dash cam."

"Hold on," Kurt whispered to Dave, and dropped the phone into his lap. As tears began to flow down his cheeks, Kurt waved a hand towards Finn. "Can you put it on speaker?" he asked his brother.

"Is Blaine okay?" Finn asked while hitting the buttons that would put Kurts call on the speaker. Seeing Kurts nod, Finn sighed in relief. He didnt want to see the devastation that would overwhelm Kurt if he lost Blaine

Once Kurt heard the static of an open line, he tried to line up his questions to ask Dave. "Finn put the call on speaker, Dave. So, youre saying the driver … he actually tried to kill Blaine?" His mouth went dry thinking about what could have happened.

"Thats what Blaine says – and I dont have any reason to doubt him. So the reason were calling is he needs you to bring a change of clothes– a complete change of clothes down to the county jail. Theyre gonna need to take everything hes wearing into evidence. So dont forget the underwear, socks and a pair of shoes."

"Okay, a change of clothes," Kurt said in monotone.

"Youll be able to take him home from there," Dave continued. "Youll need to park in the county lot next to the jail, go through the security checkpoint. Tell the guys working the desk you need to speak with Sergeant Thomas because youre there to pick up Deputy Anderson. If they are anything less than helpful, you call me immediately, understood?" Dave was all business when instructing Kurt on what to do.

Nodding, although Dave couldnt see him, Kurt was struck by a thought. "Dave, why are they taking him to county jail? Shouldnt I be picking him up at the station?"

Daves voice was muffled again while he spoke with someone, then suddenly he was back. "Standard procedure. Technically, its a homicide investigation until the district attorneys office rules it a valid shooting. Blaine will be processed just like any other person whos shot someone. He will, however, be released almost immediately in to your custody."

Swiping the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand, Kurt stood up shakily and crossed the room to stand by the phone. "Can … can I talk with him?"

"The evidence techs have his hands bagged, so he cant really hold the cell phone. I could hold the phone up to his ear for a minute if that would work," offered Dave.

"Please? Thanks, Dave." Kurt picked up the phone and waited. There was a scratching sound and then Blaines small voice came back on the line.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"I love you, Blaine Anderson," Kurt said, voice full of emotion. "Ill be there soon." There were a thousand other things he desperately wanted to say, but knew they had to keep it short – and assuring Blaine of his love was his most important priority.

"I love you too, Kurt. So much," Blaine murmured. Then the scratching sound came back as Dave removed the phone from Blaines ear.

"Hummel?"

"Yeah, Dave?"

"Hes a huge mess right now. If things get too intense tonight, you need to call me or his sergeant, or the officer crisis team. Make sure you dont leave the jail without that number, understand? I know you two are living together now, but please, please understand that this may be bigger than something the two of you can work out alone. Hes not gonna want to ask for help. You may have to do that for him. Please do that for him, Kurt. Hes a great cop, and we dont want to lose him."

"Understood, Dave. Is there anything else? Change of clothes, jail, ask for Sergeant Thomas, make sure I have the crisis teams number?"

"Not that I can think of. Kurt? Youll make it through this. Both of you. Youre welcome to call us, day or night. Matts cell number and our house number are in Blaines phone. Dont hesitate. Dont use the baby as an excuse not to call. Blaines more important right now – and Josie will fall back asleep eventually."

The corners of Kurts mouth turned up in a weak smile. "Thanks, Dave. Ill talk to you soon. And I promise to call if Im the least bit worried about Blaine." Hanging up the phone, Kurt allowed Finn to envelop him in a tight hug.

"Blaines okay?" Finn asked again, just wanting to reassure himself.

Kurt nodded, rubbing his face against Finns t-shirt. "He isnt hurt. Hes not being taken to the hospital. I need to go and grab his things and meet him down at the jail. Can you call Dad and Mom and let them know what happened? Ill call tonight with an update.

Finn rested his chin on the top of Kurts head. "Yeah, not a problem. Go handle your stuff, Ill take care of things here. And call me if you need anything at all. Ice Cream. Pizza," Finn began to ramble.

Snorting, Kurt pulled away. "Thats what we eat when were depressed over a boy – or in your case, a girl. Im not sure its appropriate for this situation."

"Yeah, well. Just sayin. Blaine likes his pizza. Tell him Im … Im glad hes okay."

"Thanks, Finn. Ill do that." Kurt snatched up his car keys from the hook by the office door. Pausing for a moment, he met Finns eyes. "Love you. I hope you know that."

Finns mouth twitched up in a smile. "Love you too."

Wearing the clothing Kurt had brought him, Blaine walked out into the lobby of the county jail flanked by two Lima Police Department officers. Kurt stood up from the plastic chair hed been sitting in and made his way over to Blaine. "Im here to take Blaine home," he announced with more confidence than he actually felt.

The taller officer, who reminded Kurt of that actor who played the lead on that Hawaiian police show, handed Kurt a large manila envelope. "Thats got Deputy Andersons personal affects and some information that youll want to review regarding officer counseling. His attorney should be in contact with him in the next twenty-four hours. Dont go out of state or out of the country."

"Really?" Kurt raised his eyebrow and stared at the officer.

"Look, weve got to do this by the book. For Andersons sake."

"Fine. Okay. Understood," Kurt answered testily. "No leaving town. Do you need our address? My phone number?"

"Its okay, Kurt," Blaine interrupted softly. "I already gave them all that information." Turning he shook both officers hands. "Thanks, guys."

Kurt followed Blaine outside into the night air, gently guiding him towards the visitors parking lot where hed parked. Once inside his car, Kurt turned towards Blaine, pushing a curl behind his ear. "I dont know what to say right now, B. I dont want to say something wrong."

Raising his hands to cover his face, Blaine bent over at the waist, shoulders heaving, as he finally gave in to the frightening reality of what hed faced in the last several hours. The soothing sensation of Kurts hand gilding over his back, granted him some comfort. What felt like hours later, Blaine sat back up, staring blankly out the windshield.

Swiping his runny nose on the sleeve of his shirt, he gladly took the tissue box from Kurt and blew his nose. "Take me home, please," he rasped out.

"Okay. I can do that," Kurt whispered. Turning on the engine, Kurt reached across the seat, taking Blaines hand in his own. He pulled out of the parking lot and made his way down to the highway, not letting go of Blaine the entire way home.

Kurt brought Blaine a mug of tea, placing it in his hands as he sat silently on the couch, feet curled under him. The slight tremor in his hands was still there, and the brilliant light that seemed to always be present in Blaines eyes – had been shuttered. Sitting next to Blaine, Kurt tugged on Blaines foot, bringing it into his lap where he began to knead gently.

Blaine raised the mug to his lips, feeling the hot liquid travel down to his stomach, though it did little to warm his soul. "You added honey," he commented softly.

Hesitating for a moment, Kurt decided to ask, "Do you … do you want to talk about what happened today?"

Blaine shook his head.

Biting his lip, Kurt let go of Blaines foot and reached to take Blaines mug of tea, placing it on the coffee table in front of them. Leaning back, he opened his arms and encouraged Blaine to lay down with him. Blaine buried his face into the crook of Kurts neck and held on to him tightly. Kissing the top of Blaines head and temple, Kurt began to hum softly.

Maybe an hour later Blaine began to share the horrifying details of his afternoon patrol – the traffic stop gone horribly wrong. Of seeing the man attempt to pull the trigger of his gun. The split-second realization that but for the gun safety, hed be dead. Pulling his service weapon and, for the first time, using it on another human being. The subsequent investigation and booking.

Blaine made no effort to wipe the tears from his face and Kurt didnt want to draw attention to them by doing so. "It was automatic. I drew down and fired. He had it pointed right at me. I saw his finger twitch as he tried to pull the trigger."

"Blaine, you did the right thing. You kept yourself safe," Kurt insisted quietly, tightening his hold around Blaine.

"I took someones life, Kurt," Blaine whispered.

"Someone who was going to kill you, Blaine."

Blaine sighed in frustration. "I get that. I do, Kurt. Im not dumb."

"I never said that," Kurt explained adamantly.

"I know you didnt. Not dumb," he said more loudly, pulling away to look Kurt in the face. "Im trying to help you understand my frame of mind. I took that guys life. Justified or not, he still has a mom who is grieving for him tonight. He still had family and friends who will miss him. Im responsible for their loss. And Im not saying I wouldnt do it again, because I know I would. I did exactly what Im supposed to do. Im just pissed that I had to do it at all."

Risking rejection, Kurt slowly tipped Blaines chin up until he could brush their lips together. "You came home safe to me. Thats what matters the most to me right now. Youre here. Period. I dont know what else to say and I dont know what you need right now, Blaine. I just want you to know that whatever it is, Im here. Always. Here."

Kurt slid the tip of his tongue across Blaines mouth, before suckling softly on Blaines lower lip. Blaine responded by positioning himself between Kurts legs and framing Kurts face between his hands. The kiss was deliberate, and wet – but never drifted into the frantic need that often preceded their love making.

Eventually Kurt pulled away slightly to catch his breath. "When I heard your voice … when you called the shop," he said, brushing kisses along Blaines ear, "I realized that I didnt get a chance to say I love you before you left. Then, when Dave told me youd nearly been shot," Kurt had to swallow to clear the emotion from his throat. "I dont ever like fighting with you – but if things had ended today … like that."

"They didnt," Blaine insisted firmly.

"I know, but Blaine, you could have …" Finally allowing himself to feel everything hed been burying inside, Kurt began to sob.

Blaine made soothing sounds, running his hands up and down Kurts arms and chest. "Im here, babe. Im here. I know youre scared and its just hitting you now."

Fighting for control of his emotions, Kurt sniffled loudly. "Ive known. Ive known since we started dating that something like this could happen. But I didnt … know. I never really realized how it would feel – if you did get hurt, or something else happened. Im so in love with you, Blaine. I cant imagine my life without you."

Wrapping a leg around Kurt, Blaine slowly turned them on the couch until Kurt was lying on top of Blaines chest. "I dont want to imagine my life without you either. But heres the thing, Kurt: if something were to happen to me – Id want you to move on. I mean, after a suitable mourning period, of course," Blaine teased, trying to bring some much needed levity to their emotional rollercoaster.

"Of course."

"Babe? We need to talk about something else. Well, maybe not tonight, but soon," Blaine offered.

"What?"

Blaine took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "If something happened to me – while I was on duty – and they took me to the hospital … well, right now, you dont have any legal standing. As my boyfriend, that is."

Quiet for endless minutes, Kurt gazed into Blaines eyes, fingers combing through his chocolate curls. "Are you hinting at what I think you are?" he finally asked quietly.

Snaking a hand behind Kurts neck, Blaine brought him down for a sweet kiss. "Yeah. I am. I think, in a couple days, you and I owe it to each other to sit down and have a heart to heart about whether we want to get married. And if we decide not to, well, then Id like us to talk to a lawyer about making sure you have as much legal standing as possible to make medical decisions for me."

Kurt chewed on his bottom lip. "Okay. Lets do that. Talk."

"Okay. Because I intend for our proposal to be a lot more romantic than lying on the couch, high on paint fumes, having nearly lost my life," Blaine remarked dryly.

"We could spin it. Our kids will still roll their eyes at our sappiness," Kurt giggled. Deeping his voice, he intoned, "Your father will try anything to get my attention. Have I ever told you the story of how he almost got himself shot in an effort to encourage me to marry him?"

Blaine laughed. "Well, if it works … At least now that weve moved we have room on the fireplace for all their Christmas stockings. All six of them."

"Blaine," Kurt whined.

"Hey, if other couples get to have more sex when theyre trying to conceive, I think its only fair that we get to do the same. Just keep that in mind."

"I dont think it works the same for us."

"Wanna test that theory?"

"Now?"

"No time like the present."

"Might as well – I dont think were gonna be able to have sex on the couch with six kids running around."

"Um, hello? Thats why we send them to visit Papa Burt and Grandma Carole."

"All six of them?"

"Your dad loves me."

"Not as much as I do."

"I know. I love you, Kurt Hummel."

"Love you too, Blaine Anderson."

-mid-July-

Consciousness came slowly; an awareness that the room was brighter than it would be if it was still night, and that the clanging of the pipes meant the sprinkler system was watering the yard. It was somewhere between 6 and 6:30 in the morning. Hoping to snuggle with his boyfriend for a few moments, Kurt rolled over to find the other half of the bed empty. Again.

Blinking back tears, he sighed heavily as he climbed out of the bed he shared with Blaine, and half-heartedly pulled the sheets and duvet back into place. Padding out of the bedroom, Kurt opened the door to their guest room, finding Blaine sprawled out on his stomach, sheets twisted around his feet.

Biting his lip, Kurt took in the sight for several long moments before making a decision. Climbing into the bed, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, kissing his shoulder.

Blaine smacked his lips sleepily. "Kurt?"

"Sshh. Its still early," Kurt whispered. "Go back to sleep."

Wriggling on to his side, Blaine reached out, pulling Kurt into his arms. "Im sorry," he rasped, clearing his throat. "I didnt want to wake you up."

Ear pressed against Blaines chest, Kurt listened to the solid thump of Blaines beating heart. "I wish you would," he admitted. "Im tired of waking up and not finding you with me."

Blaine tensed underneath him. "Im just trying to be considerate," he protested.

Kurt ran one hand soothingly up and down Blaines back. "Let me try again. I appreciate that you feel it would be inconsiderate to wake me up when you have nightmares. But that doesnt stop me from feeling like Im failing you every time I wake up and youve spent part or all of the night in this guest room or on the couch."

Kurt shifted so he could look directly into Blaines eyes, losing himself in their beauty. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Blaine replied immediately.

"I know. I know you do." Kurt began toying with Blaines curls, completely messy from his restless night. "You went through something traumatic, Blaine. And I respect that. But I cant help feeling like youre cutting me out when it comes to the residual effects. And that hurts."

Staring at a point over Kurts shoulder, Blaine considered what Kurt had just shared. Hed seen the police departments psychologist after the shooting - it was required – but even after several sessions as Blaine honestly worked through the emotions of that day – he still had nightmares two to three times a week. Horrific nightmares.

"It was you," he breathed. Barely able to meet Kurts eye, Blaine shared what he could of his latest nightmare. "I walked up, saw the gun and the finger on the trigger, and opened fire. It wasnt until after, when I opened the door that I realized Id shot you." Tearing up, Blaine swiped at the moisture as he let loose a stream of curse words.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, gathering him into his arms and rocking him back and forth. "Im right here. Ill always be right here. Im not going anywhere."

Too emotional to speak, Blaine pulled Kurt closer, concentrating on the soft rise and fall of Kurts chest. The repetitive motion lulled him back into a more peaceful sleep.

Even on national holidays, when the majority of people stayed at home with their friends and families celebrating with barbeques and beer, there were still people who had to work – police officers and firefighters being two such groups. Because of this, it was two weeks after the Fourth of July holiday that Blaine and Kurt were hosting their own celebration, inviting their friends and families over for an afternoon of fun.

Carrying a platter full of steaks, hamburgers and sausages, Kurt walked over to the grill, laughing when he saw the two men behind it. "Isnt in a bit ironic that the man paid to put out fires is the one in charge of this one?" he teased Dave Karofskys husband Matt.

Matt grinned, waving a pair of tongs at Kurt. "Laugh all you want, Hummel. Its a proven fact Im a fire whisperer. Mad skills."

Kurt laughed again, sliding the platter next to the grill and then holding his hands open, hoping for a chance to hold baby Josie. Dave handed her over, wrapping his now free arm around Matts chest, dropping his chin on Matts shoulder.

"Uncle Kurt is borrowing this one for a bit," Kurt said, kissing the babys forehead. "Ill bring her back when she needs her diaper changed," he joked.

"Oh hell no, Kurt," Dave argued, shaking his head, "its like borrowing power tools – you give her back in the same or better condition than you received her."

Kurt stared at Dave, while Matt twisted around in his husbands arms. "You did not just compare our daughter to a power tool," he said seriously.

"Oh dear, Josie," Kurt cooed at the infant, "Uncle Kurt has so much to teach you – and apparently your daddy Dave. Come on, lets go talk fashion for a little bit." Leaving Matt and Dave, Kurt moved over to the patio table covered by an umbrella, sitting down in a chair, reveling in the weight of the tiny girl in his arms.

A few minutes later, Blaine jogged over from the grass where he and Finn had been playing with the other kids and sat down next to Kurt. Wiping his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt, Blaine peered down at the little girl who was staring rapt at Kurt. "Shes beautiful," he whispered.

Kurt sighed, leaning his head against Blaines. "I want one. Seriously, Blaine. If youd asked me before, I would have said I probably saw myself with kids one day. But sitting here, with Josie … and you. Im positive. I want kids. And I want them with you." Turning his head, Kurt caught Blaines lips with his own in a soft kiss.

"Get some, Anderson," Jeff called out walking towards the couple with a tray of vegetables and dips. Placing it on the umbrella table, he leaned down to grab something to drink from the cooler.

"Shut up, Sterling. Youre ruining my moment here," Blaine muttered, leaning back in to kiss Kurt again.

Jeff pressed a cold bottle of beer into the back of Blaines neck, causing his friend to startle. "Lets keep it G-rated for the kiddos, people."

Blaine snatched the bottle from Jeffs hand and after opening it and taking a long swig, he pointed it towards Jeff. "Shes two months old. I dont think were scarring her for life."

Pursing his lips, Jeff shrugged. "Well, its not like Id know one way or another, seeing as Nicholas and I dont have any crumb-catchers of our own." Sitting down, he helped himself to some of the veggies and dip. "Were in the process of becoming approved as emergency foster parents. Things have finally settled down at the restaurant and, well, being your own boss does have some perks. The ability to flex your hours would be one of them."

"Is it difficult? The process?" Blaine asked.

"Not really," Jeff admitted, chewing on a carrot. "Its long, but not particularly hard. In fact, you might be getting a call or two from social services while they complete the background check. We put both of you down as character references."

Making grabby hands, Blaine carefully took baby Josie from Kurt, unwrapping her from her flannel blanket and laying her on his chest. "Maybe we should consider doing that, Kurt? What do you think?"

Having just popped several cherry tomatoes into his mouth, Kurt chewed as he considered Blaines question. "I mean, it sounds pretty good. I would definitely be open to exploring it further."

"Anderson!"

His hand resting on Josies bottom to keep her in place, Blaine turned towards Karofskys voice, smiling when he realized Dave was taking a photograph.

"Im posting this in the locker rooms with your cell number and Need a Babysitter," teased Dave as he sat down around the table.

"Do you want her back," Blaine asked quietly, loath to give the precious baby up just yet.

"Nah. We get her all the time at home. I dont mind sharing her. Besides, she looks rather content curled up on you." Dave took the flannel blanket and shook it out before laying it over the baby on Blaines chest.

Looking down, Blaine could see Josie sucking on her fist, eyes closed tight. "Yeah, she does look pretty relaxed, doesnt she?" With his free hand, Blaine reached out and took Kurts hand, brushing his thumb over Kurts knuckles as they enjoyed the summer afternoon together.

Blaine wiped his hand over his face in frustration hearing the drone of the neighbor boys from across the street riding their dune buggy up and down the residential street. Hed spoken to the boys and their mother several times about the illegal nature of riding the vehicle on a residential street – but it didnt stop them or their friends from doing so. In fact, the last time hed talked with their mom, Kurt had come home to burned tennis balls littering their front yard.

"Yeah, the next-door neighbor, Mrs. Mooney said the boys were soaking the tennis balls in gasoline, lighting them on fire and then throwing them at the dune buggy, regardless of where they were landing," Kurt explained to their assembled group of friends.

"Idiots," burst out Matt.

"That would be one term for their behavior," agreed Blaine, standing up to collect the paper plates and plastic utensils from those whod finished their meal. "I mean, I try to empathize with the fact that shes a single mom, working hard to keep a roof over their head – but … it feels like were just waiting for the train wreak to happen."

Kurt cut into the sheet cake hed used blueberries and strawberries to make it look like an American flag. While passing out the pieces he shared another incident with the neighbor kids. "I came home early one day a couple weeks ago and the youngest was on the roof jumping into the swimming pool – except he was about to jump for the power lines that run over their pool. Brat got mouthy when I told him he needed to get down before he electrocuted himself."

"Which I thought was the worst thing Id see, until four days ago when I came home and the boys were out in their stupid buggy, shooting at each other with a BB gun." Kurt rolled his eyes. "I did call the police department on that one."

A distinct thud sounded from the front yard.

As a unit, Matt and Dave Karofsky, Blaine, and Blaines beat partners, Casey and Nathan all shoved back from the table and went running towards the front of the house.

Through the gate first, Matt took one look at the accident scene and shouted behind him, "Call it in. Get the medics rolling. David, get my bag from the truck."

One of the boys was seated in the dune buggy, wedged underneath a lifted Ford Bronco. Matt immediately went to work on stabilizing the teenager while Nathan escorted the driver to the sidewalk, as the boy muttered, "He came out of nowhere. I didnt see him," over and over.

"Can we roll the car backwards without hurting him?" Blaine asked, peering under the truck at Matt.

"Please, hes been burned by the undercarriage," Matt answered firmly, taking vital signs.

"Casey, put it in neutral and were gonna push it off," Blaine called out.

By the time they backed the Bronco off of the dune buggy, everyone could hear the incoming sirens of the fire department, ambulance and police officers. They were only too happy to pass the accident scene off, and Blaine spent several minutes speaking with the Lima police officers about removing the dune buggy permanently to impound.

He spotted Kurt nearby, speaking with several of their neighbors and walked over. "Did anyone get ahold of either of their parents?" he asked.

Kurt turned and nodded. "Miss Rosewood did. Moms on the way home but stuck in traffic. I think Dad may be meeting the ambulance at the hospital. Colton drove the other brothers down there a few minutes ago."

Wrapping an arm around Blaines waist, Kurt tugged him closer. "That boy owes you all his life. If you hadnt been here – it this had happened any other day," Kurts voice was shaky.

"Ssshh," Blaine soothed. "Everything turned out okay this time. Lets go finish eating." Looking around at their neighbors, Blaine smiled warmly, "If any of you dont feel like making dinner, we have plenty of food leftover. Please come join us."

As Blaine and Kurt walked back to their home, Blaine sighed. "I think I need some more Josie time. Gonna go change clothes and wash up and then snuggle with that beautiful angel and try to remember that those terrors used to be tiny and adorable like her."

Kurt smiled, slipping his hand from Blaines waist lower, giving his butt a firm squeeze.

"Harassing an officer, Kurt?"

"You like it. Dont even deny it."

"You know me too well."

"That I do."

-Late September-

The sun had just slipped under the horizon as Blaine sat in the passengers seat, nervously flipping the black box he held between his hands. This was it. This was the night that could – would – determine the course of the rest of his life. In a rush he blew the air from his lungs and glanced over at his best friend Nick. "Hes gonna say yes, right?"

Rolling his eyes at Blaines nervousness, Nick snatched the ring box from Blaines grasp, holding it tight in his fist. "Stop already. Where the hell is my friend, Officer Anderson right now? Cause this anxiety ridden schmuck reminds me too much of sophomore year," Nick teased, knowing exactly how Blaine would react to his words.

"Fuck you," Blaine muttered without heat, holding out his hand for the box.

"Considering Kurt would cut off my balls so that Jeff could sauté them and then serve them to me with a smile, no thank you." Nick held on to the box, opening it to peer at the beautiful platinum band Blaine had selected. "Youve got good taste."

"When Wes was here, after the shooting, he helped me pick it out. I didnt know when I was going to ask, but I knew I was," Blaine admitted softly staring out the windshield. Looking up at Nick, he shook his head. "I owe you such an apology for all the shit I gave you when you were proposing to Jeff. I am so sorry, Nick. Fuck. Could you just shoot me now and put me out of my misery?"

"Dont even tease about that," Nick answered with force as Blaine dropped his head into his hands. Reaching over, he squeezed Blaines shoulder, offering what little comfort he could. "You are not getting shot, and hesgoing to say yes, and then youll live happily ever, having widely imaginative and passionate sex every night."

Peeking out from his hands, Blaine whispered, "Really?"

Nick shoved Blaine on the shoulder. "Fuck, no. Theres mortgages and kids and fights and make up sex and family issues and debt and who forgot to throw out the sour milk and why cant you ever remember to replace the toilet paper roll? And in the end, when you lay down next to him at night, realizing that youve found your match and that, regardless of any of the rough spots, hes always going to have your back, its worth it. All of it."

Wetting his lips with his tongue, Blaine studied Nick for a long moment. "I always assumed you and Jeff … that things were always sunshine and roses between you."

The side of Nicks mouth pulled up in a self-deprecating smile. "Truth? We almost called it quits six months into our marriage and then again about eight weeks before opening the restaurant. Paperwork all filled out by the lawyers. Assets divided. The works. And even though I was pissed beyond all belief at him, I still loved Jeff. The thought of him being with someone else – fucking tore me up inside."

"Wow. I had no idea," Blaine admitted quietly.

"Well, neither one of us wanted to admit we were having problems. And things are back to being pretty amazing now. You and Kurt, youre older than Jeff and I were when we got married. Youre settled in your careers, you know what you want out of life. He understands what its gonna be like to be married to a cop. These are all points in your favor, B."

Nick tossed the ring box back at Blaine, pointing to a pair of bright headlights making their way down the road. "Believe thats your man coming this way now. Good luck. And remember," he called out as Blaine climbed out of Nicks BMW, "you love him, and he loves you."

"Thanks, Nick," managed to force out of his suddenly dry throat.

"Anytime. And well talk later about this great little restaurant I know in Westerville that you could book for your reception. Excellent food. Excellent service. And I know the owners." Nick laughed at his own joke, waving at Blaine as he drove into the night.

Pulling up to the location hed been given for a motorist with a flat tire, Kurt was befuddled when, as he pulled up behind the vehicle in question, a man got out of the passenger seat right before the car in question drove away. His anxiety level skyrocketing, Kurt reached for his phone, already pressing the speed dial for Blaine, when he realized the man walking towards the tow truck was Blaine.

Shrugging, he completed the call, lifting the phone to his ear. "I was going to call you about this weird situation where I got a call to change a flat tire, and then the car drove away leaving a guy behind to take advantage of me," he said lowly, after he heard Blaine answer.

Turning off the engine of the tow truck, Kurt unlocked the door and slid out of the drivers seat, pocketing his phone. "Given as I thought you were working, I figured you could swoop in and play knight in shining armor," he continued, eyeing Blaines outfit carefully.

Unable to help himself, Blaine smirked while admitting, "This wouldnt have worked if you knew I was off tonight."

Kurt stood in front of Blaine, close enough that as they breathed their chests brushed against each other. "If youre not working, Officer Anderson, why are you in your uniform? And why does your uniform look like you washed it in hot water and shrunk it two sizes? Not that Im complaining," Kurt observed huskily, running his hand over Blaines solid chest.

"Its not my uniform," Blaine shared, taking Kurts hand that was circling his chest and guiding it lower. "More of a … sexy cop costume. I couldnt fit a vest under this spandex – and these riding pants and boots? Not exactly standard issue."

Brushing his lips against Blaines ear, Kurt murmured, "Impressive night stick there, Officer." With deliberate slowness, Kurt slotted a leg between Blaines, providing both of them with some desired friction.

Blaine snorted, wrapping his arms around Kurts waist and holding him securely. "Do you recognize this place?"

Kurt nodded, arms moving to encircle Blaines shoulders. "I believe this is where I questioned your abilities to change a tire, and you wanted to kiss me but wouldnt – because of the uniform."

"Mmmm," Blaine hummed, kissing the side of Kurts neck. "Good memory, Mr. Hummel."

"And were here again. And youre in uniform again," Kurt said, deliberately shifting his hips, taking delight in Blaines sharp intake of breath.

"Not. My. Uniform." Blaine emphasized with more than just his words. "Not. On. Duty." Taking Kurts face between his hands, Blaine kissed him slowly. When Kurt tried to take things further, Blaine broke away from the kiss, resting their foreheads together. "I … I have something I want to say first."

Swallowing around his very dry throat, Blaine took Kurts hands in his and gazed into his eye. "A year ago, fate chose this beautiful, intelligent man to place in my path. And while I might have been too oblivious to realize it the first time, or the second, by the third time we randomly crossed paths, I was seriously intrigued.

"And even though its only been a year … I feel like Ive known you forever. And I cant imagine my life without you by my side." Blaine dropped to one knee, happy to see that Kurt hadnt figured things out before this moment.

"Kurt? It would make me the happiest man on this earth, if you would do me the honor of becoming my husband."

Sliding his hand into his pocket, Blaine opened the ring box and presented the platinum band to Kurt who, while grinning ear to ear, had tears tracking down his cheeks. "Kurt? Will you? Will you marry me?"

Nodding furiously, Kurt dropped to his knees, engulfing Blaine in a fierce hug. Unprepared for Kurts sudden moves, Blaine ended up on his back, with Kurt straddling his waist. Laughing at their ungraceful tumble to the ground, Kurt moved so that he could help Blaine stand.

"In case my enthusiasm left doubt in your mind, my answer is yes, Blaine," Kurt said before claiming

Blaines lips. Over and over again he dipped his tongue into the warmth of Blaines mouth, tasting the coffee and cinnamon hed come to associate with his boyfriend.

Kissing and nipping down Kurts neck, Blaine moaned appreciatively when he latched on to Kurts shoulder, dragging his teeth over the soft skin. "So glad you said yes," he murmured.

"So glad you asked," Kurt replied, hands drifting to Blaines belt. "But … whats with the uniform, costume, whatever." Blaines head shot up at Kurts question, his gaze turning impossibly heated.

"A year ago there were certain things I wanted to do to you … out here … all alone. In the dark. I thought, maybe, if things went well," Blaine felt his face heat with embarrassment as he attempted to verbalize his fantasy to Kurt.

Kurt smirked, knowing exactly what Blaine needed. "Officer," he purred seductively, "Im so sorry I ran that stop sign. My boss will fire me if I come back with a ticket. Isnt there anything – between the two of us – that I could do to convince you not to write that ticket?"

Blaine brought his hand up to cup Kurts cheek, tracing Kurts rosy lower lip with his thumb. After a moment, he pushed his thumb between Kurts lips, eyes closing as Kurt began to swirl his tongue around the finger. "Im sorry, sorry to hear that," stuttered Blaine. "But Im sworn to enforce the laws and you broke the law."

Kurt allowed Blaines thumb to fall from his lips, slick with moisture. "Please?" he whispered, dropping his lips a hairsbreadth from Blaines. "I really need this job." Reaching up, Kurt began unbuttoning his coveralls, revealing his white tank top and well-muscled arms.

Turning away, Blaine took a few measured steps, staring up at the evening stars and moon. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, "Wont your boyfriend be upset with you?"

Biting his lip, Kurts gaze fell to his feet, kicking at the loose dirt. "I dont have a boyfriend," he murmured. "I mean … look at me. Im too thin and too pale and too feminine and my voice, dont even get me started on my voice. No one understands the way I dress, or what Im in to." Channeling the way he felt as a high school student, Kurt couldnt keep the pain from seeping into his voice as he embraced this character.

"Forget it," he said glumly. "I get it. I dont blame you."

"Get what?" asked Blaine, stepping closer.

Kurt snuck a glance up before looking back down again. "Why you dont want to. With me. Can we just forget I said anything? Just write me the ticket and Ill sign it."

Taking another step forward, Blaine shook his head. "No. No I cant forget it. Because youre the hottest fucking man Ive ever met – and I dont want to use you. I dont want you to walk away from what we do thinking that the only reason why it happened was because you offered sexual favors in lieu of getting out of a ticket."

"So what does that mean?" Kurt asked, wringing his hands nervously.

Blaine reached a hand out, taking a fistful of Kurts hair, holding it tight. "Im going to write you that ticket – because you earned it. And while Im doing that, youre going to walk over there," he growled, using his chin to point where he wanted Kurt to go, "and shimmy yourself out of these clothes."

"Okay," Kurt agreed right before Blaine yanked him forward, crushing their lips together in a fierce kiss.

After slipping out of his boots, Kurt hitched his hips back and forth, knowing Blaine would be watching as he made his way into a clearing. "Oh, look, Officer – some seems to have left us a picnic blanket and some battery operated tea light candles. Convenient, huh?" Kurt teased as he pushed the rest of his clothing off of his body.

"Very," Blaine purred in Kurts ear as he wrapped his arms around Kurts waist and pulled the naked man back against his chest. "Now, how about I show you my night stick?"

Sated, they lay staring up at the stars, Kurts head resting on Blaines stomach, as the officer ran his fingers through Kurts hair. "Were getting married," Blaine said aloud.

Kurt hummed in agreement, coving a yawn with his fist.

"Nick wants you to know that The Warblers Song is available to us to hold our reception. Bragged about knowing the owner," he said, stomach bouncing in amusement at the joke.

"Do you think he has something available in October?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine stilled. "Of next year?"

Kurt pushed up so he could look into Blaines eyes. "No. I mean in two or three weeks. I dont want something big and fancy – just you and me and our friends and family. Lifes too short, Blaine. And all that being said, if you would like more time to plan, then Id be okay with waiting a little bit longer."

Snaking his hand behind Kurts neck, Blaine pulled his fiancé down into his arms. "Lets call Nick in the morning. If theyve got something available and its not Halloween – then I say, lets do it."

"Whats wrong with Halloween?" Kurt giggled.

"Youre the only one that gets to see my sexy cop costume baby. The only one."

-December 22-

The darkness inside of the house was lit by the blue and red strobes of the first responders vehicles.

Blaine and Dave, followed closely by Nathan and Casey, carefully stepped over the bodies lying just inside the family room. Holding their small flashlights above their drawn weapons, they continued their careful search deeper into the home. Blaine could hear Dave radioing in the location of the bodies, so that when they finished clearing the home, the paramedics would know directly where to come.

It was disconcerting to see a house decked out in holiday decorations, presents wrapped and placed under a tree, stockings hung on the fireplace, knowing it was probably going to be ruled a murder-suicide. Blaine could smell something still cooking in the kitchen, so he waved Casey in that direction. Generally speaking, it was frowned upon to make changes with a crime scene – but having the entire crime scene burn down because an oven was left on wasnt going to win points with the Sheriff either.

Room by room they searched the large house– for a perpetrator, for another victim, for any other signs of life. Nothing.

"I dont get it," Dave commented softly, sliding his gun back into the holster. "Theyve got pictures of kids on these walls. Where are they?"

Blaine shook his head and keyed his microphone. "Control, we are code 4 inside the residence. Please have EMS respond to the victims now. Sam 1, can you have someone search the garage? We believe we are looking for three children – two males, one female. Well bring a photograph out in a moment."

Nathan popped his head the master bedroom. "Outside, before we made entry, the neighbor I spoke with said the kids were here playing in the front yard until their mom called them in and that he was sure no one had left the residence since then." He took the photo frame Dave handed him and left.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Daves face became more serious. "Theyre here. Theyre here and we missed them. Their parents were fighting, so they hid somewhere safe. Or mom put them somewhere safe. Bottom line, we need to think like little kids. Under a bed. Back of a closet," he murmured softly.

"Lets sweep it again, back to front," Blaine said, pulling out his larger flashlight. Kneeling down, Blaine picked up the bed skirt and peered underneath. "I can report the familys cat and its collection of dusty bunnies are well, and alive, under the master bed."

Standing up, Blaine shouted, "Casey!"

"Yeah, B?"

"Need you to obtain a pet carrier and execute a rescue on Mr. Meow under the bed there," Blaine said pointing towards the corner the cat was hiding under.

"On it," Casey said, boots clomping down the hall as he went to fetch the pet carrier from his patrol car.

After Blaine walked through, Dave shut the bedroom door to keep the cat contained. They entered the door to the right, clearly the babys nursery, finding nothing in the crib, under the crib, or in the closet.

Shutting that door behind them, Dave sighed. "Well find them, Karofsky," Blaine assured, knowing his partner felt things harder when children were involved. Especially kids who were about the same ages as Daves kids.

The door across the hall led them to a boys bedroom – or boys given the bunk beds. Painted blue, the walls were covered with sports decorations and memorabilia. Again, their search under the bed, in the closet and dressers were fruitless. But Blaines gut was tingling. When Dave went to leave, Blaine stopped him by placing a hand on his arm.

"What is it?" Dave asked.

Blaine frowned. "Were missing something."

"Okay." Dave began systematically moving his flashlight over the room once again.

"Maybe she had some idea. Maybe she says, Let me go put the kids down, and then we can talk, because sheknows. She wants somewhere safe, where he isnt gonna find them. Where would you put your kids. Home invasion, and youve got less than two minutes. Where would Matt put them so theyd be safe?"

Daves eyes grew slowly as a fuzzy idea became clearer in his mind. "Fuck, Anderson. The crawl space."

As a unit, the two of them lunged towards the closet, yanking out two large bins of toys. The access covering to the crawl space was raised, and probably what Blaines subconscious had picked up on. Wedging their fingers under the lid, they yanked at the wood.

There, sitting in the dirt, in the dark, shivering in the cold December air, were the missing children. "Hi, there," Blaine said softly. "Im Officer Blaine and this is Officer Dave. Lets get you out of there."

Blaine looked over his shoulder at Oliver, Owen, and Annie. He would stay with the children until Child Protective Services arrived to process them into emergency foster care. Along with their names, Oliver had been able to tell Blaine that he was five, Owen was two and the baby was born in September because hed been at school that day. Near as anyone could tell, there was no other family.

Three days before Christmas.

Pulling out his phone, Blaine took the second largest risk in his life. "Hey, guys? Can you smile for Officer Blaine?" Snapping a photo, Blaine could feel himself becoming more and more attached to his small charges. This could end up breaking his heart wide open. With a few touches, he sent the photograph off to Kurt and waited.

He didnt wait long.

When the phone buzzed, he immediately accepted the call, stepping out of his patrol car so the kids couldnt overhear and began rambling. "Kurt? You know how were approved for emergency foster care? Id like you to meet Oliver, Owen and Annie. Theyre going into foster care tonight, well, as soon as CPS gets here. And its right before Christmas, Kurt. And I dont even know if I can pull strings with the social worker, but Id like to try. I mean, only if youre okay with it. Youre okay with it, arent you? Please say yes. Okay, no, tell me the truth, not what I wanna hear."

"Anderson!" Kurt raised his voice to cut through Blaines monologue. "Breathe. What size diapers do we need?"

Blaine swiped at his eyes. "Do you mean it, Kurt?" he whispered.

"My husband is a sap," Kurt muttered, "Yes, of course I mean it, Blaine. If CPS will place them with us, well take them. All three. Im gonna go get some stuff, just in case. Call me on my cell with where you want me to come pick them up."

Walking over, Dave pointed out a maroon car pulling up near the crime scene tape. Opening the back door, Dave bent down smiling at the small children. "How are those teddy bears working out, boys?" Dave waited for their answers of good and fine before winking and closing the door to keep the heat inside.

"Thats the social worker," he said quietly to Blaine, "Three days before Christmas and its three kids from the same family? Think that plays in your favor. Is that Kurt?" he asked pointing at the phone before gently taking it from Blaines hand.

"Go talk to her and plead your case," Dave said with an encouraging squeeze to Blaines shoulder.

"So, Kurt, lets talk best diaper brands … holy shitake mushrooms, words I never imagined coming out of my mouth in a conversation with you," Dave laughed, sliding into the front seat of Blaines cruiser, and shutting the door to keep in the warmth.

-Christmas Day-

Their family had been unbelievable when it came to their foster charges. Once Blaine had called Kurt to confirm that social services was willing to allow the children to come to their house on a temporary basis until the family court opened after New Years, Kurt had sent a text message to Finn, Carole and his dad. By the time he came home from picking the kids up from Blaine, Carole and his dad were making up the beds and crib. Carole had helped bathe all three kids and Burt had insisted on ordering pizza for dinner.

The next day, Dave and Matt Karofsky, their own three kids in tow, had shown up with an enormous bin of gently used clothing and a second bin of toys. Matt managed to keep the four older kids busy decorating cookies and pretzel sticks while the adults organized the clothing and took stock in what else was needed.

By lunch time, Burt and Finn were back with so many wrapped presents to put under the tree that it took them four or five trips to empty the truck. And finally, when Owen and Annie were napping, Blaine was able to gently ask Oliver what, if anything, hed like from his old house. Shortly after Blaine sent the list via text message, Nathan arrived with a suitcase full of clothing and toys – and mostly importantly, Olivers stuffed puppy – from the house.

The police psychologist whod helped Blaine over the shooting incident had patiently answered all of Kurts questions about how to approach answering the childrens questions about what had happened at their house and why they were suddenly living with Kurt and Blaine. Oliver, the only one old enough to really process the change, seemed cautiously content. For now.

Last night, when Blaine helped Oliver and Owen pick out cookies to leave for Santa Claus, and carrots for the reindeer, Oliver did ask how Santa knew where they were.

Blaine had smiled reassuringly. "Hes just amazing like that. Remember watching Prep & Landing today? Just like some elves prepare houses for Santas arrival, there are elves in charge of knowing where each kid is up until Santas sleigh leaves - and even after that, Im fairly certain that Santa s sleigh is equipped with the latest computer technology, so they could send him updates of someone moves after hes left the North Pole."

Oliver had nodded seriously. "That makes sense, Officer Blaine."

It was now late afternoon on Christmas Day. The kids had gleefully unwrapped their stockings and the presents under the tree while Kurt and Blaine mentally attempted to figure out where they would store everything. In the middle of fixing waffles and bacon for breakfast, Burt and Carole had arrived.

Standing in the doorway watching, Kurt dropped his chin on Blaines shoulder, reaching to take Blaines hand. "If Id known how they would have reacted, I would have saved the money and not bothered to buy them gifts. Seems grandkids are what they really wanted for Christmas," he murmured in Blaines ear before placing kiss on his cheek.

Sitting in Burts recliner, Carole held the baby, Annie, feeding her a bottle and rocking her to sleep as Oliver and Owen snuggled with Burt, all three sleepily watching A Christmas Story on the television.

"Lets go make some hot chocolate and apple cider for everyone," Kurt said, pulling at Blaines hand to encourage him to follow.

Kurt pulled out one pot for the hot chocolate and another for the cider as he busied himself making the drinks. "Blaine? What if we have to give them up?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Blaine tugged gently on Kurts belt until his husband turned to face him. Cupping Kurts cheek, Blaine kissed him softly. "How about, for today, we just enjoy them … this. Dont borrow trouble. Not today, at least."

Wrapping his arms around Blaine, Kurt rested his forehead against Blaines. "Okay. Sounds good. Merry Christmas, Blaine."

"Merry Christmas, Kurt."

Pulling away, Kurt tilted his head and smirked. "Still want five kids, Anderson?

"Six," Blaine answered huskily, slipping his hands down to cup Kurts ass before claiming his lips in a wet, dirty kiss.