The next several days passed quickly, with Santana on a one-woman mission to make Kurt a functioning member of modern society. She arrived at the Anderson home early each morning with a 'to do' list and spent the day cracking the whip to make sure that Kurt was keeping on task, declaring that Blaine was too soft-hearted to be the slave driver that the situation required. She gave Kurt homework covering modern history, politics, and pop culture and he spent hours each day scouring the internet for the answers. Once she found out that he had speed reading capabilities she assigned Blaine the task of getting a reading list together of the modern novels he should read. It was only in the evenings that she loosened the reigns and allowed some spontaneity and fun in to the agenda. Each night the three of them holed themselves up in the theater, watching her self-declared list of must-see movies and the DVDs she had brought to Kurt on the first day.

Kurt now knew who Santana was referring to when she called him 'Legolas' and had to admit he didn't mind the comparison at all. He thoroughly enjoyed Aladdin and laughed when Blaine gave thanks that Kurt hadn't come out of the samovar all blue and legless. Now they were in the middle of a marathon of the second season of I Dream of Jeannie and he couldn't help but groan at the hijinks unfolding on the screen.

"Is this what people think of genies now? If so, I completely understand why you didn't want to bring me to Chicago. How could anyone stand to live with all of the trouble she causes?" When he didn't get a response, Kurt looked away from the screen to find Blaine and Santana each biting their lips, trying desperately to keep a straight face. "Oh god, I'm Jeannie, aren't I? I'm the ditzy, uncontrollable genie who comes into your life and ruins it with slapstick misunderstandings and mischief, aren't I?"

The other two lost their fight to control their laughter and were soon snickering into their popcorn.

"Kind of," Blaine gasped, "but just like Tony we don't really mind because we lov…enjoy having you around."

"Do you suppose I can sue them for profiting off of my life story?" Kurt giggled, glad that Blaine and Santana could find the humor in the situation.

Several more minutes passed as they all returned their attention to the big screen. As the episode they were finished watching and they waited for the next one to begin, Blaine sat forward in his chair and looked towards Kurt with an impish look on his face. "Kurt, what do I have to do to get you to wear an outfit like that?"

Kurt dissolved into full-fledged laughter and Blaine soon joined him. Santana just looked on with a smirk on her face. "Wanky."

Santana had allowed Kurt the weekend to soak up as much information as he could, but it was now Monday morning and Blaine was headed back to work, so it was time for Kurt to start his job hunt. He and Blaine had spent Saturday discussing various occupations and talking about what Kurt might want to do. He decided that he would like to look for a job where he would be able to interact with people, so they decided to focus on retail jobs. Blaine suggested that he might want to look into a job in one of the up-scale department stores or a clothing boutique, since Kurt showed such an affinity for fashion.

They had decided to keep the job hunt a secret from Helen and Rachel for now, as it would be hard to explain that Peter's ghost writer was looking for another job, so Santana, who didn't have any modeling jobs scheduled for the next week, volunteered to take Kurt around the city for his interviews.

To both of their surprise, Kurt was hired after his first interview, having impressed the hiring manager with his knowledge of current and vintage fashion and he started bright and early the next morning as a personal stylist in an exclusive downtown department store.

At first, Kurt found the job a great fit. He was working in the high-end designer department and he loved immersing himself in Versace, Dior, Dolce & Gabbana and Marc Jacobs. He enjoyed meeting the different people and getting to know them in order to recommend the best fashion choices to them. And best of all, his customer loved him. After only three days on the job he already had repeat customers who were spending more with him than with any of the other stylists in the store. He was gentle with his opinions and tried really hard not to be judgmental when clients went against his advice with their purchases. His uncanny ability to find styles that looked the best on each body type had customers arriving at the store asking for him by name after hearing about him from their friends.

One of his favorite clients was a local high school wrestling coach who was being honored for promoting gender equality in sports by a Presidential program in Washington, D.C. She had come to Kurt after searching fruitlessly all over Chicago for a beautiful formal gown that would complement her admittedly plus-size figure. Kurt had been determined to find the woman, Lauren, a gown that made her feel as special as she deserved to on her big night. It wasn't easy, given the short-sightedness of most designers when it came to creating garments for anyone above a size 6, but he finally found the dress he was looking for. The look on her face when she saw herself in the mirror for the first time was something that was going to stick with him for a long time.

Unfortunately, part of what was making him popular with customers was his honesty in telling them when an outfit didn't look good on them. He was unwilling to comprise his integrity, and that of the designer, by convincing a customer to buy something that didn't flatter them completely. The first time he was brought into his manager's office was when the man heard Kurt telling his 3 o'clock appointment that a $3,000 Nina Ricci dress looked better on her than a $25,000 Versace gown that she was ready to buy. The manager lectured him on how the store was there to make money and that they shouldn't be talking customers out of buying expensive gowns that they love. Kurt listened politely and nodded his understanding and then went right back to giving his clients the best advice as he saw fit. Despite his dissatisfaction with this aspect of Kurt's work, the manager was reluctant to make a bigger deal of the issue since Kurt's sales were still so high.

The best part of the job to Kurt was that he was able to do it, and do it well, without using his powers. He was getting the same satisfaction he usually got from granting wishes simply by allowing his clients to feel beautiful for the important events of their lives. Each night he went home to Blaine and regaled him with funny stories about his day, telling him about Mrs. Capley's upcoming anniversary, Mr. Kennedy's benefit dinner or Ms. Baxter's engagement party.

On his tenth day on the job, Kurt appeared for his 11 o'clock appointment and found a nervous young man waiting for him. Kurt felt an instant kinship with the man, who looked enough like Kurt to be a cousin, if not a brother. The man introduced himself as Rory Flanagan and Kurt was enchanted by his lilting Irish accent. Rory was about to meet his fiancé's parents for the first time and needed to get a suit for the occasion. The parents were well off, so he wanted to get a nice suit, one that would make the best initial impression possible, but he didn't have much money.

After trying several of the less expensive suits in the department to no avail, a stunning Dolce & Gabbana suit caught Rory's eye. Kurt was reluctant to have him try it on, as he knew the garment was going to be out of his price range, but he relented at the enamored look in Rory's eye. As soon as Rory came out of the dressing room wearing the suit Kurt knew that they had found the right one.

Kurt was tempted to use his powers to solve the problem, but he wanted to prove to Blaine that he could be successful without resorting to magic, so he racked his brain for another solution. Looking at the suit, he realized that he had seen a very similar one in the window of a local suit maker down the street. He took Rory aside and told him of the store and how they were masters at recreating designer suits for a fraction of the cost. Thrilled at the advice, Rory left to make an appointment at the other store. Kurt watched him go with a smile, but as he turned to move on to his next appointment he found Mr. Kimble, his manager, standing behind him with an angry look on his face.

"Mr. Hummel, I'd like to see you in my office."

"Of course. I have another appointment now, so can I meet with you at —"

"I'd like to speak now, please. You can reassign your next appointment to another stylist."

Kurt found another consultant to take his appointment and then hurried to Mr. Kimble's office, finding the other man sitting rigidly behind his desk. "Kurt, you've become one of our best stylists in only a matter of days, but I have to say I am incredibly disappointed with you right now. Did I just hear you recommend to a client that they go to another establishment to order a knock-off?" the man shivered in distaste.

"He couldn't afford our prices and he really needed that suit. I did what was best for the customer."

"If he couldn't afford our prices then he shouldn't have been in our store to begin with. It's not our job to act as free style consultants to the unwashed masses."

"Fashion is about self-expression and art. It shouldn't be limited to just the wealthy."

"Fashion isn't limited to the wealthy, but our services are. In the future, you will refrain from making recommendations of any kind that cost this store business. Is that understood?"

"Mr. Kimble, I can see why you feel the way you do, but I'm afraid I just can't work that way. I think it's best if I just collect my things and let you find another stylist who's more willing to walk the company line."

The other man began to sputter, horrified that his number one consultant was heading out the door, but Kurt wasn't interested in staying. With a dramatic spin on his heel that he would never admit he learned from Rachel Berry, he stormed from the office, gathered his things, and left the building.

When Blaine returned home that night he found Kurt nestled away in his favorite spot in the conservatory, filling yet more pages of his notebook with clothing designs.

"How was work today, dear?" he joked, sitting next to Kurt on the lounge.

"Ah yes, work. About that… would you be very disappointed in me if I told you that I quit?" He filled Blaine in on the happenings of the day and his lecture from Mr. Kimble. "You don't think I'm a failure, do you?"

"Absolutely not! You stuck to your principles and stood up for what you believe in. I admire you so much for that. This wasn't the right fit for you, so what? That's what life is about, trying things on for size and seeing if they fit, if you'll pardon the fashion metaphor." Blaine reached over to grab Kurt's hand, intertwining their fingers. "You'll find your perfect fit. I know you will."

Santana had a modeling assignment the rest of the week, so Kurt did some job searching on his own for the next few days. He had several interviews, but nothing spoke to him and he actually turned down two positions. He was getting a little discouraged when he met up with Santana for lunch during a break in her photo shoot.

They were in the middle of brainstorming new ideas when she paused. "So, you're old as dirt, right? And you're gay, so you must know about decorating and knick-knacks and crap like that, right?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and shot her a death stare. "Do you have a point, Santana?"

She gave him a smug look and pointed across the street to a cozy antique store. The display windows were filled with wonderful pieces of furniture that Kurt recognized as being Queen Anne, Victorian, and Pennsylvania Dutch. The shelves were filled with Depression Glass and crystal candlesticks and in the back of one display he could see pieces of vintage clothing. Best of all, there was a 'help wanted' sign in one window.

Santana raised her hand to get the waiter's attention and quickly paid their bill. She grabbed Kurt by the hand and dragged him across the street, not even waiting for the light to change. As they approached the front door she reached up and straightened his tie. "Go get 'em Twinkle Toes. I've gotta head back to the photo shoot now. Group shots are next and I just love showing all those skinny bitches who's boss."

Kurt watched her leave, then took a deep breath before opening the door and going in. Right away he could see the potential in the shop. It had a wide range of inventory and was laid out nicely, though he could definitely see room for improvement.

As he looked around he could hear a voice from the back, singing along with the music playing, which was an R&B song that Kurt didn't recognize. He wound his way through the aisles towards the voice and came across a man about Blaine's age. The man was wearing a short-sleeved button-down shirt, sweater vest and glasses and was attempting to dust a high self from his wheelchair while raising one hand up in a 'praise' gesture as he performed a series of musical runs. Kurt cleared his throat to get the man's attention and was amused, when he just held up one finger to indicate that Kurt should wait a moment while he finished the song.

When the music had finished, the man rolled over to Kurt and held out his hand. "I can't pause in the middle of Stevie Wonder, it just wouldn't be right. Hi, I'm Artie Abrams, the proprietor of this fine establishment. What can I do for you today?"

Kurt shook the man's hand with only somewhat feigned confidence. "Hello, I'm Kurt Hummel and I'll be interviewing for the position of sales associate."

Kurt could tell Artie was a little taken aback at his straightforwardness, but he recovered quickly and agreed to interview Kurt for the open position. Luckily, the two found a lot in common, from music, to theater and finally, to the most important subject, antiques. Artie quizzed Kurt on many of the items in the store, asking him about their era, having him rate their condition, and give value estimates. When Kurt passed the test with flying colors he was offered the job, especially after Artie saw that he had personal references from the famous Anderson family.

Artie Abrams had owned A Stitch in Time Antiques for 3 years, having inherited it from his grandfather. Owning a shop wasn't exactly what he had envisioned for his life, but he made up for it by also acting as director of a local independent theater company, which was his one of his passions, along with music. Any time the store was empty of customers Artie would turn up the sound system and dance around the building in his wheelchair. During these periods Kurt noticed that Artie often spoke with a slightly different accent and used words that Kurt wasn't familiar with like 'bling' and 'bros', but overall he found Artie to be a great boss.

Kurt's first official duty was to help Artie with an inventory of the store. As he sorted through and cataloged the items on the shelves he discreetly rearranged them, making different displays by color, theme, or era to better show the antiques off. He felt a little nostalgic looking at some of the objects, for they reminded him of past connections; A perfume bottle that reminded him of France in the 1800s; A pair of button-up ankle boots from the 1920s; A painting showing a medieval castle somewhere in the British countryside.

As he performed his inventory he put aside a few items that he wanted to call to Artie's attention at the end of the day. A few were priced as genuine antiques when he had a strong suspicion that they were more modern copies, but several were actually severely under-priced for what they were. When Artie heard about the pricing mistakes he just held out his hand, curled up into a fist, to Kurt, leaving it hanging in mid-air, obviously waiting for something. Kurt hesitated for a second before holding his fist up in kind and was shocked when the other man moved to bump their fists together. OK, that was new.

On his fifth day on the job, Kurt arrived to find Artie in the little back office, rapping along with the music blasting through the store. Kurt had to admit that rap was the one type of modern music he was still mostly uninformed about. It just wasn't a sound that he enjoyed and the themes of much of the music made him uncomfortable. Artie seemed to have no such reservations, nodding his head and making strange movements with his hands and arms to the music. Kurt returned to the front of the store, leaving Artie to finish his morning concert in private.

Nervously, he took out a set of papers from his messenger bag. While he had been performing the inventory he had found himself getting several flashes of inspiration for changes that could be made to the layout and decoration of the store. After dinner each night that week he and Blaine had retired to the library, Blaine sitting at the desk to do some work and Kurt spreading out on the comfy leather sofa to do some sketching. On the second night, he found himself working on some drawings and descriptions of his ideas. When Blaine saw the plans he was impressed and urged Kurt to show the plans to Artie, so Kurt spent the rest of the week working on a proposal, but found the work went slowly at times due to the long periods where he found himself just gazing at Blaine. Now the plans were finished and he was ready to present them to Artie. He didn't have high hopes, since he knew money was a little tight, but he wanted to give Artie something for being such a great boss. They still had half an hour left before the store was due to open when Kurt gathered the courage to bring the subject up. He went over the ideas at a high level first, telling Artie of his overall vision before going into details and showing his sketches of what the finished product would look like.

Artie listened to the proposal intently, asking a few questions here and there. "Dang, Kurt! You put a lot of work into that," he exclaimed as he spun his wheelchair around in a circle then angled it back slightly. "I appreciate all of this, but I can't really afford these kind of changes right now. I'm kind of barely keeping the place afloat as it is and honestly, I'm not sure how much more I would want to put into this place. It's kind of just something to keep me occupied until my directing career really takes off."

Kurt was a bit disappointed that Artie didn't jump at the chance to start implementing his ideas, but he told him he understood and asked him to keep the designs, just in case he changed his mind.

Later that day, Kurt was unpacking some new inventory for the store when he came upon an amazing discovery. Wrapped up at the bottom of the box was a pair of Sai swords, the likes of which he hadn't seen in over 150 years. He picked them up, marveling at how comfortable and familiar they felt in his hands. He had learned from the hands of a master, once upon a connection, and was itching to see if he still had the moves.

"Woah! Man, you're armed and dangerous," Artie smiled as he came around the corner, finding Kurt beginning to lightly twirl the swords. "Do you know how to use those bad boys?"

"It's been a while, but I think I still remember." Kurt stepped back away from the desk into the center of the room. "Watch out, I may be a little rusty."

Kurt picked up the speed with which he was twirling the swords then began alternating the twirling with tossing the swords into the air and catching them before twisting his arms back and forth. He got more and more confident in his actions, swaying his body back and forth and adding a small kick every so often. Then disaster struck as Artie wheeled forward a bit to get a better view, forcing Kurt to take a step backward for safety. His step took him a little too close to one of the store displays and the tip of one of the swords just barely caught the lace tablecloth that lay under a row of crystal candlesticks. As he brought the sword forward the lace followed, pulling the candlesticks from the shelf. The noise of the glass shattering on the cement floor startled Kurt, who turned swiftly, whipping the swords before him in an unconscious movement. His right hand sword sliced through the neck of a clothing display dummy, sending the head flying. He watched in horror as the head flew directly into a shelf of delicate jade vases, which disintegrated upon contact. The head then ricocheted into a display case and smashed through the glass front to crack the faces of several porcelain dolls resting there. The unsteady case then tipped backward, crashing down upon a set of vintage toys that had been laid out on the floor. The whole chain reaction took only a second, but left much of the store in shambles.

"No. Oh no!" Kurt gasped in disbelief. He whirled around to face Artie, who was gazing in shock upon his ruined store. "I can fix it, please let me fix it."

Artie just continued to gape at the destruction, unable to respond to his plea. Kurt survey the damage, trying to figure out where he would begin his repairs, his senses already tingling as he prepared to use his powers, when he heard Blaine's voice in his head. He couldn't fix this. There was no way he could explain it to Artie, even if he made the repairs late at night while the other man was gone. Some of those pieces had been one-of-a-kind and Artie would know something was wrong if items he had seen destroyed suddenly appeared whole in the store again. He couldn't risk that kind of exposure. Who knew what Artie would do? He seemed like a nice man, but then a lot of bad people seemed that way at first. He had been lucky with Santana, but what were the odds the next person who found out about him would keep his secret quiet? He couldn't do that to Blaine or the rest of the Andersons. They had been too kind to him.

His only option was to leave the damage as is. Artie would forgive him, but Kurt wasn't sure if he would forgive himself. If Artie claimed the damage on his insurance his premiums would skyrocket and as he had said earlier, he was barely keeping the store afloat as it was. He needed someone more cautious and less impulsive in the store, not someone who performed spontaneous ninja skill demonstrations right next to breakable objects.

He expressed his regrets to Artie and began to clean up the mess, but they both knew that this would be Kurt's last day in the shop.

As he left the store that night, Kurt turned to walk down the block, stopping once he had reached a Post Office box on the corner. He glanced around to make sure no one was looking then reached into his previously empty pocket to pull out a simple white envelope. As he concentrated, the address of the little antique shop appeared on the front, the senders address left blank. He took another quick look around the street before adding a large stack of 100 dollar bills to the envelope. Would that be enough to cover the damage? He pictured the destroyed items in his mind and did a quick tally of their values then doubled the stack of cash. He sealed the envelope and was about to drop it in the box when he glanced back at the store. Artie had wheeled himself out to the doorstep and was giving Kurt a sad wave goodbye. Kurt smiled and gave a wave back. He glanced at the envelope and watched as it plumped up to twice its thickness as more cash appeared inside. Finally satisfied, Kurt let the envelope go and heard it hit the bottom of the container. Artie would be able to replace the damaged items and might even be able to make some of Kurt's recommended improvements now. He gathered his coat close to his body and set off down the street. It was time to head home.

After an uncomfortable dinner that included Rachel, Quinn, and Helen, Kurt once again ended up in the library, watching as Blaine typed on his laptop. He was reluctant to tell Blaine that he had left yet another job, this time after only a week, but knew he couldn't keep it a secret. Complete honesty, right?

Blaine's reaction was not quite what he had expected.

"I can just picture your expression when that dummy's head went flying," Blaine snorted, laughing a bit at Kurt's expense. "I wish I had been there to see that. Hey! Maybe you can get a job creating a Rube Goldberg type exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry. You seem to have talent for setting up chain reactions."

Kurt sunk a bit in his chair, understanding Blaine's amusement, but still not ready to see the humor in the situation himself. "It's just humiliating. A week! I only lasted a week!"

"Hey," Blaine soothed, sobering up when he realized Kurt was taking the situation harder than expected. "Don't get discouraged. We'll figure something out. I believe in you and we all know I am never wrong."

This finally brought a smile to Kurt's face and they settled in front of the fire to talk about what his next step might be.

The next morning Kurt found himself alone in the house. Everyone was off at work or meetings, but Kurt had decided to delay his job hunt a day to try and get in a better mindset. The weather outside was nice, so he decided to take a walk. He put on his coat and was heading down the driveway towards the main gate when he heard the sound of a revving car engine from the garage. He changed direction, heading towards the familiar sound. Once in the garage he stopped in amazement. His eyes bounced right over the 5 luxury cars nestled into their parking spaces and locked in right away on the 1940 Rolls-Royce Phantom III parked in the back corner. The red and black classic car called to him and he walked slowly over to it, taking in its sleek lines and listening to the sound of the engine, which was hiccuping just a bit. A man was standing next to the car, looking down at the engine with a perplexed expression, obviously in the middle of giving a tune-up.

"Excuse me," Kurt approached the car and made a gesture towards the toolbox. "If I may…?"

The man gave Kurt a considering look then gave a nod, causing his blond hair to flop down slightly into his eyes.

Kurt pulled a wrench from the box and moved over to the car. He reached into the engine and made a slight adjustment, listening to the engine until it purred. "You almost had it. That last adjustment is the trickiest to get right."

"Awesome, thanks! You must be Kurt. I've seen you a few times, but we haven't had a chance to officially meet yet. I'm Sam, mechanic, part-time chauffeur and jack-of-all-trades." He held out a hand to Kurt, but began to draw it back when he saw the grease on it.

Kurt didn't give him a chance to retreat, but stepped forward and grasped the dirty hand. "Yes, Kurt Hummel. Nice to meet you. That's a glorious car. I can't believe you have it running so good. It sounds better than it did new."

"How do you know so much about Phantoms?" Sam asked, pulling a cloth from a nearby drawer to wipe his hands on. Kurt took the opportunity to get a closer look at the vehicle, running his hand along the side, but never actually touching the paint, afraid of smudging the perfect shine.

"I used to know a mechanic who worked on one of these every once and a while. He loved Phantoms so much it was almost an obsession."

"The Andersons have a lot of great cars, but I have to admit that this one is kind of my favorite. I'm a big movie buff and Phantoms are one of the go-to period cars, you know? Every time I work on it I can't help but picture myself in The Rocketeer or one of the James Bond films. I don't know, I guess I kind of feel important because I take care of it? You know…with great power comes great responsibility." Sam said the last bit in a slight deeper voice and Kurt looked up at him with a questioning look. "The line from Spiderman?"

"Sorry, haven't seen that one."

"Never mind. People don't know what I am talking about half the time anyway. I'm used to it."

"Well, I'd better leave you to your work," Kurt gave one last longing look at the car before pulling his scarf a little closer. "I didn't mean to disturb you. Have a great day."

Kurt was half way back to the garage door when Sam called out to him "Hey, know anything about 1950s Corvettes? I was just about to crack this baby open for a look. Feel like getting your hands a little dirty?"

Kurt looked back to see Sam pulling the cover off a cherry red car with white coves and gleaming chrome and he felt another jolt of nostalgia. "I thought you'd never ask!"