"Where do you think youre sneaking off to?" I can hear his voice before I notice him, hidden amongst thousands of sheets of paper. God dammit! I was almost free. "Blaine you promised!" Okay so technically I did promise to help him but the problem was....Im betrothed to a mad man!

First off, dont laugh at my use of the phrase betrothed - I kind of find it amusing - secondly as I said...Im THAT! To a mad man! Not even the cute kind like the television programme. You know the ones where they wear all the cute suits and their hair is always so....Okay! Im getting distracted. As I was saying... Im marrying a mad man! Not even the kind of amusing adrenaline junkie type, that have taken a few too many hits to the head, meaning their brain short circuits whenever rational decisions need to be made. Nope. Not my Kurt. He has gone full on psycho. What over you ask? Only the fact that our wedding is two weeks away. No, as Kurt would say its sixteen days and four hours away. IM MARRYING A MAD MAN!! He has turned into the walking advert for the male ‘bridezilla, if it wasnt already a coined phrase? Im sure he would be the one to create it!

Why am I being so over the top about this you ask? Well let me explain a few things about my betrothed, Kurt Hummel. He is very passionate about things, which is a great quality. Especially when it has anything to do with me, or more specifically, my body. He can also show slight diva tendencies, as you would call it. I, on the other hand, have learned to refer to his tendencies as specific idealisms. Okay so maybe Kurt explained it to me like that and I was too afraid to contradict him. Did I mention the marrying a mad man part?! So these two personality traits are things I love about him, I love everything about him of course.

But then again...

Add these factors into the planning a wedding, and more importantly not knowing where or what our bachelor party was going to entail, was making life for little old me rather chaotic. What do you ask, could he have been doing to send him to ten on the crazy-o-meter? Well it all started a few days ago. The binder I had given him - the very thoughtful and romantic binder - said it was time to start confirming all the bookings again. That fucking binder! I wish I had never given it to him in the first place, Ive always said I was bad at romance, well that romantic gesture back fired didnt it? Maybe I can burn it and make it look like an accident? So first Kurt called our venue.

You cant have a wedding with no venue Blaine, he said with a laugh as the phone rang. Everything was fine, well almost, the wedding planner let slip that they were having some standard maintenance work completed over the next week and a half.

Nothing drastic, she said, it will all be finished before your wedding, she said. Kurt immediately panicked (as only the inner planner in him could) making up apocalyptic style plans in case the hotel flooded or, heaven forbid, collapsed.

Buildings collapse all the time Blaine! From earthquake tremors or bulldozers! Then what would we do? He asked me and I tried to comfort him by telling him none of that would happen anyway. We had a fight for almost two hours.

That fucking binder! So now Kurt was meticulously checking and rechecking anything and everything that could go wrong. Not only that but he had now planned out emergency provisions for in case something went wrong. So now not only were we finishing up any plans for our wedding, Kurt was insisting we micromanage every little detail by phoning the people responsible for that part daily, He was also insisting we plan for the fall back wedding as well, just in case. As I said, Im marrying a mad man. A mad man who is staring at me tiredly from his spot amongst the invoices on the floor, his hair all fluffy and spiking up in multiple directions, that blue gaze trained on me accusingly. Waiting for a response.

"Okay, so its not that I was sneaking out..." I start treading slowly to the back of the couch, my coat still hanging off one shoulder from before I had been spotted.

"You have your coat on Blaine!" He sighed at me accusingly before scribbling on a post it note. "Find out about coat space..." He mumbled to himself before sticking it to a thick invoice.

"I was just going to the bakery on the corner..." I wasnt, I was planning on wondering about central park for hours, but he didnt need to know that.

"You know we need to be strict with the diets now, we only have-"

I cut him off before he could continue. "Sixteen days and four hours, I know. Its just that Ive been good all week and I thought we could have a treat since its our only day off together...." I decide to discard the coat, its not like Im getting to leave the inner sanctum now. I toss it onto the back of the couch and climb over it to sit on the floor beside him.

"I know Ive been crazy recently but I just want everything to run smoothly. Have you ever wanted anything so bad that you just cant bear the thought of anything spoiling it?" God he may be crazy but whenever those eyes are on me I dont care. I honestly think he could cut off any part of my anatomy with that look on his face and I would willingly let him do it again.

"You. Just you and this wedding is going to be perfect even if it rains and we cant get outdoor pictures taken without looking like wet dogs...." I smile, pleased with the indulgent eye roll I get in return. Kurt leans over to press a firm kiss to my lips, his eyes open and watching me, a grin appearing on his face.

"Want to google rainy day wedding photo ideas for me?" He whispers quickly before turning back to his pile and that binder. Of course I will, Ill look up erupting volcano wedding ideas if it keeps him happy. God I hope he doesnt think of that. The humidity would destroy my hair regiment.

Its a few hours later when Im standing in the kitchen trying to fight with the waffle batter and losing, Kurt is still furiously taking notes in the other room unaware of my actions, picking at the berries in front of me since I wasnt being observed and growing increasingly agitated with the lumpy mixture in front of me (Kurts were never lumpy). When I hear a door slamming open, so strong it comes through the wall and vibrates along the granite work top, and then a defined set of footsteps hobbling around (Santana no doubt trying to kick off her ridiculously high shoes and keep walking at the same time) and banging into the metal framed shoe rack repeatedly. I briefly considered going out to see what all the noise was about, but then I remembered that I was still mad at her for not disclosing bachelor party information.

"Number one gay I need you!!!" Comes in an increasing volume as she reaches the kitchen doorway. When I look up at her all I can see is one of her deep brown eyes peering out through a tangled mess of hair, her arms grabbing onto either side of the door frame, and her almost non-existent dress following her heavy breaths across her chest.

"Did you get arrested again?" I ask genuinely concerned, her label is always banging on about being a good role model.

"You...." She huffs out a few more breaths, while trying to move her hair away from her face. Only to have it fall back across her face again. "Are not my number one gay!"

"Ill ignore the dig about me not being your dream man due to the fact that you look homeless...." I smile, crossing towards her. "I will also go out on a limb and say that Kurt is said man, and that he is in the living room finalising wedding plans." Thinking that would deter her for a minute, I beam in triumph too quickly before she spins on the spot and starts a manic run to the living room. Interest peeked, I quickly dashed back to turn off the stove, shoving another fist full of berries in my mouth and heading after her.

*********************

From my vantage point in the living room I can hear several things as I wait on hold with the florist, a deafening chime of metal and Blaines scattered hums of Katy Perry filter through with the smell of burning, the front door being practically thrown off of its hinges, the muted thud of bare feet across the floor and then the banshee calls leaving no chance of second guessing who has graced us with her presence. I ignore it all as the same monotonous tune begins another cycle on the other end of the phone. Dang it, I need to revise the approved play list for the band. Im still sitting thrumming my finger to the annoyingly catchy jingle when thundering footsteps begin their trip towards me and when I catch sight of Santanas appearance I worry. Even if shes been avoiding us since we discovered she had planned a bachelor party for us, I still didnt need bruising from a brawl to appear on my face with only sixteen days and forty three minutes until the big day.

"GAY ONE! I NEED YOU!" She hollers, despite having come right up in my face, one wild eye peering out from a Pocahontas gone wild hairstyle. I roll my eyes away from her, carefully covering my hand over the receiver before talking.

"Im not talking to you remember?" Blaine slides into the room with his cheeks full of who knows what and skids to a stop. "And I told you to stop calling me that, Im not your house pet."

"Did I miss anything?" Blaine hops from foot to foot on the spot, clearly finding this thrilling. "Did you find out why she got arrested?"

"Arrested!! Santana if leaked photos from our wedding get put up beside your mug shot then I swear to Go-"

Shes already cutting me off though. "Puh-lease! I didnt get arrested!" She starts to hop from foot to foot as well, but I need to get this confirmation done, the terrible music is gearing up for another round. "Hang up the phone!"

"No. I told you, Im not speaking to you." I remove my hand from the receiver to catch the invoice sitting in front of me for reference.

"But this is like, really important!" She bounces again impatiently.

"Well just tell me..." Blaine is hopping beside her, Im not entirely sure when he moved, but hes excited and I realise its because he thinks were about to find out those oh so secret details.

"Blaine this is gay one Intel! If I told gay two what I had to tell gay one then the system would be fucked!" She says as she keeps bouncing on the balls of her feet, irritating me no end. "There is a system for a reason Bumble!"

"It not only disturbs me that you rate all the men in your life by system, I am also wondering if youre about to pee your pants..." I drone as someone begins speaking to me through the handset. "No, not you, sorry, this is Kurt Hummel calling for Ross?" I ask before I get put on hold again for a minute.

"This is important! I ran, like, a lot of blocks to get here faster.....in four inch Blahniks Kurt!" She explains, as her hair springs madly around her face, showing off an eerily happy grin.

"Will you just stop bouncing around for fuck sake....no, sorry not you!" I cringe as the receptionist comes on the phone again.

"I dont get why Kurts number one and Im number two is all...." Blaine mutters beside her, it at least gets her out of my eye line while I discuss the issues over the phone.

"Bumble...." She sighs reaching out with her left hand to grab his shoulder. "Its like having the choice between a burger and fillet steak... Sure burgers taste nice but theyre bad for your figure and use all the bad parts of the cow.... Now a steak, thats the prime meat. Look at that man and tell me hes not grade A cow parts..." She grins at me as I finish up the call and throw my phone onto the coffee table.

"God Im so hungry right now..." Blaine rubs his stomach subconsciously, falling in beside me on the couch.

"Okay, whats got you all crazy this fine afternoon?" That seems to put her back into her excited mind set as she starts to pace in a tight circle in front of us.

"Right, so you know how Ive been working with that kids charity? The one that has different life style classes?" She starts at a rapid speed, still not stopping, and adding a jump to her step. Which I realise is the closest to skipping Ive ever seen her do.

"The one that I practically forced you to join!" Blaine states. It was true she really didnt want to be near sick kids that were all snotty nosed and spoiled, (her words not mine), but Blaine turned to google and found out that it was enabling teens with troubled backgrounds to make a name for themselves. Including lots of LBGTQ youths...which could have been us without the support we had. She signed up the next day.

"Minor detail!" She waves it off, "Ive been recognised for my efforts by someone...this is a huge, huge deal. Holy shit I need to sit down, no, I need to keep moving!"

"Santana Lopez, mentoring the future generations one curse word at a time...." Blaines comment is met with the middle finger on another round trip.

"Hold on! If youve come here to make me create an outfit for you, you can trot back out! We arent speaking because you refuse to co-operate..."

"Peachy everyone knows we dont negotiate with terrorists! I will not back down to your demands...." She grins evilly. "Besides I think youre going to eat your words when you realise who my admirer is...."

"If you get to meet Adam Levine before me I swear Ill die..." Because of course this is what my darling fiancé would worry about.

"Oh no, she is a much more renowned personality then him little Bumble bee." Santana laughs a little before spinning on the spot, and freezing in place. "Im going to be on Oprah! Fucking Oprah!" Then a sort of cackle bubbles from within her.

"Blaine it sounded like she said she was going to be on Oprah...." My jaw has literally dropped open, Blaine to be fair, is just as shocked as me judging by his huge bug eyes.

"Not just Oprah! A fucking special episode focusing on the charity and my involvement! Oprah, Kurt! OPRAH FUCKING WINFREY!" She annunciates every letter in case Im not grasping it. "Ill be on Oprah wearing a fucking Kurt Hummel original! Oh my god! You have to come with me?!" She turns to look at me, questioningly. Really like theres a choice to that?!

"Oh my God, Im going to meet Oprah! Youre going to sit on her couch!" I jump up to join her barely contained bounces. "OPRAH!"

"OPRAH! Im going to be on OPRAH!"

"My best friend is a success in life! OPRAH!" Blaine hops up to join us and we just keep bouncing until we cant feel our feet any more. Bitching about stag dos can wait for another day.

******************************

"Wait a minute....Oprah? As in the queen of talk shows Oprah?" Dales mouth hangs open wide, staring at me as if Ive just told him aliens have abducted my body.

"Yeah the one and the same!" I take a sip of my sparkling water before shoving a handful of chips into my mouth. "I thought Kurt would be pissed about her stealing his thunder this close to the wedding, but he just keeps saying what a huge deal this is. I was expecting a full on melt down... but nothing!"

"I cant believe it, I guess I always kind of forget shes this public persona." He ponders, almost to himself, taking a sip of his wine and putting it back on the counter. "I just think of her as Santana, the aunt that teaches my children inappropriate sayings for their age, the best friend that takes far too much interest in my sex life, and yours too for that matter." He waves his hand at me.

"I know, once youve lived with a person I dont think you can ever be in awe of them as a celebrity. I wash her underwear most days and its these like little bits of floss, I mean, surely that cant be comfortable?" I shiver a bit at the memory.

"Bleuch girls!" Dale shivers too. "Anyway youve still not told me what you wanted to talk about?"

"Its actually not you I need to talk to, its the little man of the house. I just thought Id come see you for a while too. See if you needed any help with the-"

"Youre not getting to read what Ive written about you for the wedding ceremony." He cuts me off quickly, teasing grin in place. "I told Kurt no, Im telling you no...and to be honest? Him offering his services in the bedroom didnt sway me, your puppy dog stare isnt going to work either." He stands up to busy himself at the kitchen counter, chopping a variety of vegetables and throwing them in to a huge wok.

"Youre not as funny as people say you are..." I grumble under my breath.

"Oh stop pouting, you know he didnt really. You also know you asked me to keep what I was going to say a surprise until the big day." He starts sprinkling a range of seasoning into the pan with such ease, I cant help but relax watching him.

"I know, I know! Its just...exciting!" I sigh heavily. "I feel like Im going to implode before we get to the actual day. I keep trying to my distract myself but Kurt is micromanaging every spare minute he has and it keeps reminding me were getting married." The roll of eyes from Dale doesnt go unnoticed by me.

"Still not budging....." He giggles, "More to the point? The bachelor party is coming up soon....shouldnt you be more excited for that?"

"No! Im dreading it...." I wail dramatically, walking over beside him to inhale the smell of food. "God that smells good!"

"Well you can stay for dinner if you can fight off the rabble that is my family!" Dale grins, doing a few fancy flips with the pan for effect. "Theyll be home any minute."

"Thanks, but I better get back once Ive spoken to Landin." I sigh, picking at the edge of the noodle packet. "Dont want Kurt to know what Im up too...."

"And that is?" He tries to look non-affected, but I can see the twinkle of anticipation, luckily the front door swigs wide and Landin thunders in chanting my name happily.

I push myself away from the counter and grin as I walk backwards towards the commotion in the hallway. "THAT would be a secret!"

************************

"Kurt Darling? For the love of God shut that gorgeous mouth of yours...." Mrs B groans from behind the front counter, earning me a few stares from the girls having cocktails at the table next to me. "...You know Blaine isnt here, and thats the only time efficient thing you could be using it for."

"But what about the-"

"The plane will not fall victim to a terrorist attack, you will not catch chicken pox - I checked with your dad youve had them- and more importantly you will not be accused of drug trafficking!" She trills, picking up the glasses and bringing them over to me at my table, shifting papers with her elbow and sitting down, before placing one in front of me. "Stop looking up fucking alternate honeymoon travel itineraries!"

"But then I could just..."

"Give me the laptop...before I gut you!" Mrs B doesnt give me a chance to complain, the laptop is slammed closed and then pulled from my grasp. "There, isnt it nice to function like a ninety per cent reasonable human being? Well, as close as youre going to get any way..."

"Ha ha ha, youre so hilarious! Stop, youll make me crack a rib." I drone, but I still start to put all the papers into my special wedding binder, and slip it in to my satchel.

"No need to be so sarcastic darling, I may be ageing but I could still take you to the carpet." Mrs B grins as she casually curls into her chair, kicking off her shoes.

"Wrong gay...your granddaughters the one who likes carpets...." I note, picking up my glass.

"That was vulgar!" She sips quickly. "Im almost impressed... Hows the drink?"

I take a quick sip and moan. My God it was delicious.

"Only the best vodka with a dash of lemon. Maybe itll loosen you up enough to go home and bang that fiancé into next week."

"Or get me so drunk Ill vomit on the bed..." I groan but take another sip, the vodka tingling my throat as it goes down. "Again."

"Well its not my fault I made the mix wrong the last time. Who knew margaritas were so...complicated."

"Margaritas are easy...you served me a pitcher of tequila with slices of lime for flavouring." I give her a pointed stare to which she throws her hands up in defence.

"Apologies all mighty sadists...for I am not perfect!" Her hands are thrust into a bowing position and we earn even more funny looks from customers. There is also a camera definitely pointed in our direction, but I ignore it.

"Speaking of perfect...How does Blaines tux look?"

"Oh no! No. no way. Never. I am not getting into the middle of you and Maya fighting over wedding outfits. I value my life way too much for that!"

"Youre no fun anymore....oh customer!" I sing happily as the door chime rings and I watch her make no attempt to move. "Dont you move a muscle Mable. Ill go right to the counter..." I grunt, sarcastically as I heave myself out of the plush cushioned chair.

"Thank you darling!"

"Hi can I....COOPER?!" I squeal once I come eye to eye with the visitor. There he stands, my future brother in law, wearing mine and Santanas Vegas wedding t shirt and a huge grin.

"Hola señor!" He grins even wider before running to scoop me into a hug, twirling me around in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, squirming in his arms but he holds on tight, my legs dangling a few inches off the ground.

"Two words....Bachelor Party!"

"Fuck!"