Blaine sighs as he rolls over on David’s bed until his head is resting on Nick’s leg. He just finished telling the whole thing to Nick, David, Wes, Jeff, and Thad. Jeff, at the other end of bed, hangs off the side with his head upside-down. David and Thad are sprawled out on the floor, and Wes sits in the desk chair with his socked feet propped up on the desk.

“You’re sure it was a romantic-type kiss,” David says, more statement than question.

“Positive. They were embracing, it lasted longer than a peck, and Finn specifically referred to her as his girlfriend.” He closes his eyes. Maybe if he falls asleep he’ll wake up back at the beginning of the day before this ever happened.

Wes clears his throat. “The way I see it, there are five possibilities. Option number one: The procedure went wrong.”

“I’ve done a fair amount of researching on this over the years,” says Nick, “and I’ve never heard of a case where the procedure went wrong or the machines didn’t work properly so that it made a person see through someone else. I don’t think it works that way. If the procedure went wrong, Blaine wouldn’t have seen anything.” Wes and Nick exchange a quick look.

“Okay, then,” Wes continues, “I think we can safely rule that out. Option number two: Blaine made a mistake.”

All five heads turn to look at Blaine. “Sorry, guys, I really don’t think I did. I’ve been thinking about it since I left Lima. Less than twenty minutes passed from the time the connection broke to when I opened the door to the coffee house. He was in exactly the same place, surrounded by exactly the same people, and wearing jeans and a red jacket, oh. Idiot. It was a letterman’s jacket. He’s a jock.”

Wes nods. “Okay, we’ll call that one highly unlikely. I figured neither of those two would work. The last three are more probable. Option number three: he’s in the closet.”

“Well,” says David, “let’s be honest, it wouldn’t be the first time someone living in the middle of conservative, semi-rural Ohio kept his or her sexual orientation a secret. Especially a jock.”

Blaine sighs and rolls over to stare at the ceiling. “I’m sure that’s true, and I suppose I understand why. It’s just going to make it a hell of a lot more awkward to try to resolve this whole thing. Okay, option three is still on the table.” He looks at Wes. “Option four?”

“Yes, option number four. Finn is bisexual and the girl –“

“Rachel.”

“ – Rachel, right, is for real. Or at least not a beard, so to speak.”

There’s a groan from the foot of the bed as Jeff sits up. His face, which had been hanging upside-down for several minutes, is beet red. “I should not have stayed in that position that long. I think I might have brain damage. NobodysaysanythingIwillcutyousohelpme.” Jeff ignores the snickers around the room. “How did they seem together?”

Blaine thinks about it for a few seconds. “Finn might be a really good actor, I don’t know, but he seemed pretty genuine with her. His smile didn’t look false, and he was constantly touching her in some way – an arm around her shoulder or a hug. Plus, he looked into it while he was kissing her and then gave her another kiss before he left. None of that necessarily means he isn’t gay, but I think I’d have an easier time believing he’s bi.

“What does it matter right now, though? Ultimately, whether he’s gay or bi, I’m going to have to figure out a way to tell him I’m his soulmate. How am I supposed to do that when he has a girlfriend on his arm?”

You don’t have to figure that out now,” Jeff says. “You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to, or you can start with an introduction and go from there. Regardless, don’t stress yourself out over it. There’s no timeline here.”

“I know you’re right, but it just seems like I should be doing more, you know?”

Thad holds up his hand. “Hold on. Wes said five options. What’s the fifth one?”

Wes glances at Nick and holds his gaze for a moment. “Option number five. Blaine is in the 2%.”

Blaine closes his eyes. He thought about this, certainly, but he was hoping someone would tell him why it wouldn’t be possible. “Shit.”

“Blaine!”

“Whoa.”

“Wow. I’ve never heard you swear.”

Wes sits back and gives Blaine a hard look. “Blaine, Warblers do not use profanity. It is unseemly in a gentleman.”

“Jeff gets to,” Blaine whines with a pout.

Wes sighs. “Yes … well … Jeff is a heathen child with no regard to discipline or tradition, but he has perfect pitch and is a fifth-generation Warbler. Sadly, compromises must be made.”

Jeff starts bouncing a little, then grins a little boy’s grin and proudly says, “Fuck.”

“I will call your mother, so help me.”

Then it’s Jeff’s turn to pout, but he still whispers, “fuck,” under his breath.

Blaine groans. “God, in the 2%? So I find my soulmate, really find him, but we’re in that weird group of people who connect with someone other than a romantic partner? So what? He’s my new best friend? My future cousin by marriage? His 2nd cousin once removed marries my 4th cousin twice removed and that explains our link?” He jumps up and starts pacing the room, waving his hands rapidly while he speaks.

“And do you know what this will do for my chances of finding someone? Someone I fall in love with, I mean? It’s difficult under the best circumstances, but to be gay along with it? It’s almost impossible! I read a study once about being gay in the 2%, and it terrified me.”

“What?” Thad looks a little perplexed.

Blaine faces him, growing agitated. “Did you know there are around 308 million people in the U.S.? And do you know how many of that 308 million would be like me if I were in the 2%? Only SEVEN THOUSANDS OF A PERCENT,” he yells.

“Blaine –“

“Start with only two percent of the population, then we can guess about five percent of that because I’m gay, even though no one really knows. And only 49% of those are men. Plus, because I don’t have any interest in dating an octogenarian, narrow it down to within ten years of my age, which is only 14%. And do you know what all that adds up to? A little over twenty-one thousand. Out of the whole country, I would be compatible with just about 21,000.”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” David interjects. “You can’t focus on percentages and numbers like that. You’ll drive yourself crazy, and you don’t even know anything for certain yet.”

Blaine sits on the floor, defeated. “Oh no, better to face up to reality, don’t you think? Because the thing is … the,” Blaine’s voice cracks, “the thing is that number doesn’t take into consideration things like attraction or common interests or who’s out of the closet and who isn’t already in a relationship. God, I’m going to be lucky if there’s half of that by the end of it, and then I actually have to go out and find them. That’s why I cannot, I absolutely cannot be in the 2%. I can’t handle that.”

“You know you have no control over it.”

“Yes, Nick. Do you know how much of a monumental karmic screw-over that would be?”

“I do, actually, since my mom is in the 2%.”

Blaine looks over, only to find Nick staring at the ceiling. “What?”

“I’m telling you, all of you this story, and then after tonight I expect to never hear about it again. Understood? And Blaine,” Nick looks down at him, “I’m not sharing this to scare you. I honestly hope it’ll help give you some perspective.”

He exhales loudly and takes another deep breath. “My parents were high school and college sweethearts. Happy, finish-each-other’s-sentences kind of love. They got married, started a family, and their lives were really, really good.

“About three years ago, after all this,” he waves his hands around, “soulmate stuff was out there, the popular thing to do was to have a couples session. Two people go into separate rooms and see through each other’s eyes at the same time. You could even call it romantic. Except not everyone who went in together was actually meant for each other.”

He pauses for a moment and sighs. “They brought these stupid dry erase boards and markers, so they could have a conversation while they were connected. But then they didn’t see through each other, so… big plan up in flames.”

Nick sniffs, and his voice turns bitter. “For my dad it was this woman in Florida. She happened to look down at her mail when it happened, so he was able to get her name and address. My mom, though, didn’t get a romantic soulmate. Turns out that she and her sister, my Aunt Jackie, are soulmates. Mom recognized the house. Mom was in shock, but Dad… God, Dad was just so … I don’t know. Oblivious, maybe? Stupid? A thoughtless, self-centered jackass?”

Blaine moves back to the bed, sitting with his arm around Nick’s shoulders to comfort him because he’s crying. “When it was all over, they had this huge, hugefight. I remember part of it. Dad wanted to go to Florida, but Mom was saying that it shouldn’t change anything. They still loved each other. They were still happily married with a family. Didn’t matter to my dad, though, because he left. Flew to Tampa, found the woman, divorced my mom.”

He stops to use the handkerchief Thad passed over. “Thanks.” Nick wipes his eyes. “Did you know you can now list not being soulmates as a legit reason to divorce? Yeah. My dad married the other woman, and they live in Florida. I hear from him like once a month. He tried more for a while, but I didn’t really want… I mean, he just walked out, and…” He looks down.

“Mom never got over it. Allison and I – sorry, my sister and I – tried to get Mom to find someone. She could still be happy. There are 2% dating websites and agencies and stuff, you know? But her depression is so deep, and she won’t do any of it. Dad came back about a year ago to try to talk to her. Said he missed her and wanted to be friends,” Nick sneers, “but she wouldn’t see him. I don’t blame her.

“Blaine, like I said, I’m not telling you this to scare you, and I’m not saying if you’re in the 2% that this is what will happen. Lots of people, tons of people, have very happy, fulfilling romantic lives. But you can’t have your whole happiness wrapped up in this crap. There are people with romantic soulmates who can’t make it work. There are 2 percenters who are mind-blowingly happy. And there are people out there who are perfectly content without knowing any of it.”

The six boys sit in silence for a few moments. Blaine brings his other arm around Nick to give him a full hug.

After a moment, Thad breaks the silence. “Nick, are you a Dissenter?”

Nick drops his head to Blaine’s shoulder. “I honestly don’t know. I can say I will never get strapped to one of those machines, I know that. But I don’t walk around with my eyes closed or anything so someone else can’t find me.” He sighs. “I’m 15-years-old. Who the hell knows what I am?”

No one says anything for several minutes, letting Nick and Blaine both calm down. Thad and David get up and clean up pizza boxes and dishes. Jeff goes back to hanging off the bed upside-down. Wes just sits quietly, thinking.

Eventually Nick sits up and looks around. “Right. Here’s what’s happening. We’re all going back to our rooms to put on pajamas and grab pillows and blankets and comforters or whatever. Jeff, David, you two are in charge of breaking into the kitchen downstairs.”

Wes slaps his hands over his ears. “Didn’t hear that.”

“Bring back whatever snacks you want, but if you find anything that looks or tastes remotely like chips and dip or chocolate cake or root beer, I order to you to grab it.”

Jeff jumps up and salutes. “You can count on me, sir,” he says before bounding out the door.

“Everyone back here in 20 minutes. We’ll come up with a game plan for Blaine, and then it’s movies ‘til we pass out. Okay?”

The remaining guys all agree and start to leave. “David,” Nick calls out as he leaves, “try to get Jeff back in one piece?”

David grins and, following Jeff’s earlier lead, salutes. “Aye, aye captain.”

* * * * * * * * *

Since their rooms are close to each other, Blaine follows Nick down the hall.

“Nick, I just want to apologize. I never would have said some of those things if I’d known about everything with you and your parents. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You didn’t know, man. And I swear I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I just think it’s dangerous to assume that one procedure, one event, even just one person can determine your happiness. I want you to be careful, Blaine, but I don’t begrudge you what you’re doing.”

“You don’t? I’d understand if you wanted to take a break from the conversation or ask us to talk about stuff like this when you aren’t around.”

“Well, ‘stuff like this’ is going to come up naturally in conversations with anyone. I can’t just refuse to talk about it, even if I wanted to. Thanks, though, but if we could never talk about my part in ‘stuff like this’ again, that would be great.”

“Done and done.” Blaine gives him a quick pat on the shoulder then heads to his room. “See you in a few minutes.”

* * * * * * * * *

Twenty-one minutes later, Blaine strolls through David’s door.

“Hey, soulmate searcher!”

“Hey, Jeff. Are you … what are you doing? 

“Dancing! Come on, Blaine, dance with me!”

“Sorry, but I don’t think that’s dancing. I think that’s just called kicking.”

Jeff continues to bicycle kick his legs as he lies on the floor. “Nope. I’m the one doing it, so it is what I call it, and I call it dancing. So dance with me!”

Just as Blaine is about to respond with a ‘no, thanks,’ David emerges from his private bathroom. “Sorry. He found the leftover cheesecake brownies from dinner tonight in the kitchen before I found him. He’s well on his way to a sugar high.”

“Nah. I’m like sugar middle at best here.”

Blaine chuckles. He notices he’s the last to arrive, except Nick. “Where’s your roommate?”

The kicking stops. “Oh. He got to the room about the time I was leaving for downstairs. Said to tell you guys he might be a few minutes late. I think he was going to call Allison.”

“Probably a good idea,” says Wes. “Since Blaine’s here now, though, we should get going. I’ve already started. Come over here.”

Jeff runs over to claim the only other chair in the room, now positioned next to Wes at the desk. He stares at Wes and frowns. “I thought we were all changing into our pajamas for Blaine’s Soulmate Sleepover Extravaganza. Why are you still in your regular clothes?”

“I’ll change later. I’ve been researching since you guys left. So. Googling Finn Hudson, Lima, Ohio, gives us several hits.” Wes clicks on one. “Is this Finn?”

The same face Blaine last saw jumping into a black SUV now gazes up at him from the computer screen. “That’s him. I don’t remember him having that goofy grin, though.”

The guys laugh. “Well, this page is the William McKinley High School football page.” He turns around to look at Blaine. “Your boy’s the quarterback.”

“Well, I like football, so we already have something in common. Are they any good?”

“Looks like last year they were pretty bad. Only won one game the whole season. This year, though, they’ve won their first four games, so they’re already much better.”

There’s a knock on the door as Nick enters. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”

Jeff points to the laptop screen. “That’s Finn. He’s a goofy-looking quarterback.”

“I didn’t say he was goofy-looking! I said he had a goofy smile, but that can be cute,” Blaine protests. “What else came up?”

“Um. This one is trickier, but potentially really good for your situation.” He clicks on another link and points to a picture, leaving two of his fingers on part of the screen. “You said he was with a group, kind of eclectic-looking. Was this them?”

It’s a picture of a dozen teenagers, all smiling at the camera. “Yeah, some of them look familiar. That’s Finn on the left, with Rachel in front of him, and that’s definitely Santana sort of front row middle.” He tries to remember more of the faces he’d seen. “Yeah, I recognize them,” he points to the couple arguing in the coffee house. “And I’m pretty sure the blonde cheerleader is the one Santana wanted to go with us to the Sticks.”

Jeff’s mouth drops open. “That’s Santana and the other cheerleader? What’s the Sticks? Is that like a place to go make out or something? I’ll go! Do you still have her number on your hand? Can I have it? Do you think she’d go with me instead?”

“Heel, Jeff,” Wes warns. “If this is who you saw, then we have both a problem and an opportunity.” He removes his finger from the screen to reveal a sign in the lap of the guy in the wheelchair.

On the sign is written “Glee Club 2009.”

“He’s in their glee club,” Blaine shouts. “Oh my God, this is so perfect! We have even more in common!”

“Yes, but that’s part of the problem, too. The William McKinley glee club is called the New Directions.”

Thad and David both gasp. “No,” they whisper together.

Blaine looks at his two friends, confused. He glances at Jeff and Nick, who both appear as puzzled as he is. “What’s wrong with that?”

“We’re announcing it at Monday’s Warblers practice, anyway,” Thad says, “but the New Directions is one of the groups we’re competing against at Sectionals this year.”

This time it’s Nick and Jeff who gasp. Blaine is stunned. “He’s our competition?”

“They are, yes.”

Wes gazes straight at Blaine. “We have to be very careful here. We cannot do anything that would appear to be singling them out or spying. Even the appearance of impropriety would be problematic, not just for the show choir board, but for the Dalton administration.”

“I know, but…” Blaine mumbles, crushed. “Does this mean I can’t contact him until after the competition? I mean, I guess I can wait, I was just hoping…” Blaine trails off.

Wes shakes his head. “It could mean that, yes, but I don’t think it has to.” He smiles. “You know, up until about ten years ago, the Warblers used invite rival show choirs to a pre-competition meeting as a show of good faith and sportsmanship.”

“Why’d they stop?” Nick asks.

The answer comes from David. “Vocal Adrenaline,” he says darkly. “They took advantage one year and were able to hoodwink a naïve Warbler into giving up part of the setlist.”

“Like Hagrid and Fluffy and the dragon egg,” Jeff whispers, eyes wide.

David rolls his eyes. “With less alcohol and fewer magical creatures, but yes. So, Wes, I’m assuming you’re saying we should restart the tradition?”

“I think so. We’re not up against Vocal Adrenaline this year for Sectionals, and the third team in the competition is a group of elderly people getting their GEDs.”

“Okay, but how do we – wait, elderly people? Is that legal?” Blaine wonders. At nods from Wes and Thad, he continues. “Okay then, but how do we know Finn would show up to a meeting? Or are we saying that the everyone from both groups should get together?”

“Well, I guess we could do that, though I’m not sure how productive it would be, especially if it means Jeff would be around girls –“

“Hey!”

“But I don’t think we’ll have to, at least not at first.” Wes beams as he gestures to the laptop where he’s scrolled down the New Directions webpage. “Finn Hudson is listed as a co-captain. I’m sure he’d come to any meeting between leaders of rival choirs.”

“Wes, I swear on everything that is holy in this world that you are an absolute genius!” Blaine yells as he throws his arms up in triumph. “But wait.” He lowers his arms and thinks it over for a moment. “I’m not on the council. If it’s a meeting between leaders, I don’t think that’ll work.”

“That’s true you’re not, but I think it would be appropriate for our council to be joined by our lead singer, don’t you? I know that leaves out Jeff and Nick, but more than the four of us may look a little suspicious.”

Nick shrugs. “No worries. We understand, right Jeff?”

“I have surveillance equipment. I can put a video camera in someone’s –“

“No!” five voices exclaim together.