Blaine tossed and turned for hours on end that night. Every time he felt like he was almost asleep, something in his mind would tell him, "nuh uh". He glanced at the clock and it was already a quarter till five. That left him with one hour to sleep before he would have to wake up and get ready for work. He sighed and lifted his head up from the pillow, figuring sleep would do him nothing at this point. He remembered how horrible his insomnia became when he first moved to Philadelphia with Elizabeth. Everything and everyone was so new, and he felt completely out of his element. He lived in Pennsylvania for several years, but he never considered it home. New York was always where he felt safe and secure. Probably because that is where, "No," he told himself repeatedly. He wasn't going to go there. He hasn't been in that headspace for a long while, and he didn't want to go back. That headspace was a very dark space to be in.

He got up slowly, savoring his last moments on his bed, and then he got up and planned his morning. As if on autopilot, he tiptoed into the kitchen to start his coffee. Annie was still asleep in his room, so he made sure to have some food ready for her to eat, in case she didn't wake up before he left. After that was done, he stripped down and got into the shower. He decided to make it a cold one if he had any chance of defeating his drowsiness. The shower was the only place he sang, and for some reason, Come Fly with Me was stuck in his head for days. He shivered as he exited the shower and pulled on his boxer briefs. He then opened his closet to reveal a multitude of sweater vests, khakis, and T-shirts. His fashion style had changed since he was a young teenager. There was a lot less color in his fashion collection than he used to wear, but he didn't notice until one day his daughter brought it up. Although it was not her passion, she absolutely loved clothes and the magic of a bargain. It was the end of January, the coldest days of Pennsylvania, so he made sure to layer himself comfortably.

He heard the wonderful beep of his coffee maker, signaling that his coffee was waiting for him patiently. He could always depend on coffee. He let his mind wander as he prepared his mug. Two days. He had two days to prepare himself, before he saw his ex-husband. His ex-husband who was staying in Philadelphia for three months until the wedding. That meant he would have to actually get along with him for the sake of their daughter. He hadn't spoken to him in years, let alone have a civil conversation.

When his coffee was ready, he took a deep breath into the mug, allowing the smell to relax and consume him. He cautiously took a sip as he walked into the living room to sit in his recliner. He shuffled through the magazines on his coffee table, finally grabbing the latest issue of Broadway magazine. He ran across an article about Kurt, not to his surprise. It's one of the reasons he subscribed to the magazine in the first place. It spoke about his most recent successful run with the musical, Into the Night, which Kurt had both written and directed. It recently ended about three weeks ago, and Kurt stated that he was to take at least six months off to recuperate. "I'm not getting any younger, and I'm getting lines on my face. Nature is obviously telling me it's time for a break." Typical Kurt. Nothing comes out of his mouth without a witty retort. There was a picture at the bottom of the page of Kurt dressed in his costume, tears running down his face, looking absolutely mesmerizing. "You are not getting lines on your face, drama king," he murmured to himself while smiling. No matter how ugly their divorce was, and no matter how much they didn't get along, Kurt would always be the most interesting man he's ever known.

He looked at the time again, and an hour passed by without his realization. He cursed under his breath, grabbed his satchel, and made his way outside. As he drove out of his driveway, he slammed the brakes, realizing he forgot to grab his students' essays. He ran in, grabbed everything he was looking for, and barely made it on time to his first class of the day.

"S'up, Mr. Anderson?" He hears one of his favorite students greet him. Tommy never got the best grades, and to other teachers, he's an absolute nightmare of a student, but he always had a soft spot for the kid. Tommy actually respected him because he was one of the few adults in his life who never spoke down to him. Blaine also made it clear to him that Tommy was in no way entitled to more respect than any of his other students. He and Tommy had an interesting dynamic, respectfully teasing each other almost every day.

"I'm an English teacher, Tommy. I don't respond to 'S'up'," he bit back.

"You just did," he smiled wickedly.

"Feet off desk," Blaine said.

"I'm an English student, Mr. Anderson. I don't respond to grammatically incorrect sentences!"

Blaine laughed because, this kid was good. "You just did," he replied.

"Touch�, Mr. A., touch�," he said in defeat, "So what's on the agenda this week?"

"Well, it's your lucky day, because I'm taking a couple months off from work. You can tell me all your awesome substitute stories when I get back."

"Trust me, I won't spare a single detail," he replied with a little too much enthusiasm, "I already have ideas."

"Just promise me you won't get suspended... again," Blaine told him seriously.

"Geez, Mr. A., do you have no faith in my getting away with things?"

"I'll always have faith in you," he replied, earning him a bashful smile from one of his favorite students.

Despite the sleep deprivation, this was an ideal way to start his day. He absolutely loved being a teacher and he adored his students. Few things made him happier than seeing a student transform before his eyes. And the fact that he had anything to do with that made him feel like a superhero.

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There is a very specific fact about Elizabeth Anderson-Hummel that completely puts all of the puzzle pieces of her personality together. While she had Kurt's eyes and a shared many of the same interests, it did not explain her dark brown hair, nice tan skin, and her mischievous smile. There are some parts of her personality that she did not biologically get from her papa or pick up from her dad. That was because her surrogate mother was her fathers' close friend, Santana Lopez.

Yes, that explains why she was extremely mischievous, highly offensive, especially to those she cared about, and could convincingly argue her way out of a genocide if she had to. It may also explain why she is planning to manipulate her fathers to get back together. She never met her mother, but she had heard stories and seen many pictures. Although she would have been happy to meet her, her birth mother told her fathers that it wasn't a good idea, and that it would be best, "if they lived their happy gay lives on one side of the rainbow, while she lived hers on the other side."

She remembered one of her favorite stories that her papa told her, about when Elizabeth was still "in the oven". He and Blaine lived through nine months of hell with Santana while she was pregnant. She was told how completely horrible she was even before she was pregnant, but when she was, they slept with their doors locked and 911 on speed dial. Kurt and Blaine argued every day. Her dad was convinced that their baby the spawn of Satan. That it was God's way of punishing them because they were gay. Her papa didn't believe in the afterlife, but those long months made him extremely superstitious. They thought of the idea of the baby being a mix of Kurt and Santana, followed by mirrored looks of horror. "We thought we may have created a monster," her papa would say, "but that monster ended up being the most perfect thing we could ever ask for."

Elizabeth had accepted the fact that she may never see her mother, because her life, although far from perfect, had turned out alright. She was raised by the best dad in existence, had found Andrew, who she couldn't wait to marry, and she developed a much better relationship with her papa after all that they had been through. She just prayed to whoever or whatever was up there in the big black sky that her plan wouldn't completely backfire and tear this family apart even more. If that were to happen, she would have no one to blame but herself. She could not have just passed up the perfect opportunity for her fathers to reunite, or a least be on better terms. She was being completely rational, right? There was only one way to find out.

It was Tuesday night and she was rustling around in the kitchen when she heard a frantic knock at the door. "Andy, can you get that for me?"

"Hey Mr.... Blaine, what can we do you for?" She heard mumbling at the doorway, and Andrew continued to speak, "Whoa, okay, maybe you should come in and sit down or something. Do you want some wine? Something stronger?"

"I'll bring it right out," she shouted from the kitchen, "just give me a minute!" It did cross her mind that her dad would freak out about this whole situation, given how he was acting on Sunday. He tended to overthink a lot of things, but she was beginning to regret this entire "operation", as her fianc� endearingly called what she was doing. She absolutely hated when her dad was stressed, because when he was stressed, he had a hard time sleeping and eating. Although her memory was extremely faded, she remembered how skinny and cranky he became the first few months after the divorce.

"Daddy," she hesitated, turning slowly into the living room, red wine in hand, "everything all right?" She looked into his eyes and realized tat, much to her suspicion, her dad had not slept. He smiled at her, not quite reaching his eyes, accepted the drink, and toot a big gulp.

"M'fine. Just a little," he closed his eyes and sighed, "just a little nervous." He was sitting on the recliner with Andrew sitting on the edge of the couch right next to him. "It's been a while, you know? There's a lot of unfinished business between us." He paused, deep in thought. While he did so, Elizabeth settled next to her fianc�, patting his knee. She was about to speak up when her dad beat her to it, "Three months?" He looked up at her, waiting for confirmation. She nodded and looked at her hands in shame, because that's all she could do. "Okay," he said.

She snapped her head up quickly, not expecting that reply. "Okay? Dad, are you --"

"-- I already told you Lizard," he smiled genuinely this time I will while giving Andrew a knowing look, "this is your wedding, your papa really wants to be there for you, and I'm really happy that you two get to do this together. I am being completely honest."

"What did I say about you calling me Lizard?" She kicked his foot playfully, standing up from her position.

"Just that you love it, especially when Andy says it!" She stopped in her tracks and turned him, sporting her deadliest glare. Blaine and Andy were both terrified, but they couldn't suppress their giggles. When these two were in the same room, they always turned into childish little boys.

"That's it, Dad, out! And take some Ambien -- don't give me that look. Andrew, couch. Not another word."

"Yes, mom," they said in unison. Elizabeth was the boss and they never questioned her authority.

Andrew walked him to the door, being the gentleman he is, speaking low enough so that his fianc�e wouldn't overhear them. "I know she hates it when I call her Lizard," he snickered at his confession, "but that is half the fun of being her fianc�. It's like, she lets me get under her skin, and that's how I know she loves me, you know?"

"Trust me, I know exactly what that's like," Blaine smiled sadly.

"I'm sure everything will be fine. You know, with Mr. Hummel," Andrew assured him.

Blaine deflected that conversation, and turned it around on him, "Are you excited to meet your father-in-law? Well, other... father-in-law?"

"Having one is nerve-racking enough, but I knew you before I knew Lizzy, so I thought it was perfect," he laughed, "but meeting the legendary Kurt Hummel, my future father-in-law, is extremely unnerving. I don't know who's more nervous, me or you."

Blaine put his hand on Andrew's shoulder, "Kurt is the best man I know. Even better than me. I have no doubt that you will love him, after his interrogation of course," he winked. "Thanks for having me over, son." He couldn't help but notice the hitch in Andrew's voice.

"No problem... Dad," he said bashfully. Blaine just smiled, gave him a few more pats, and walked out the door with an extra skip in his step.

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