“Alright,” Kurt says, putting his Mustang into park and killing the engine. “It’s six a.m. We have roughly four hours to get in and out of the mall before the melee begins. Now, using the list of stores that you and I brainstormed, I plotted out the most efficient route from Macy’s to Nordstrom, hitting Sephora, Brooks Brothers, Build-A-Bear, Godiva, Papyrus, Francesca’s, and Sheets and Things in between, then escaping to the safety of the food court before the Santa Court crowd arrives.”

Blaine quirks a brow, smiling in amusement at one store in particular on Kurt’s list. “Build-A-Bear, Kurt?”

“Yeah, well, I kinda … you know … I wanted to get something special for Brittany. Maybe … Hello Kitty,” Kurt mumbles.

“Oh, darlin’” - Blaine puts a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and squeezes - “you know you’re her favorite unicorn.”

“Just don’t tell Santana that. I’d like to keep my testicles, thank you very much.”

“She’d have to go through me to get to your balls. Wow …” Blaine’s eyes widen when he catches a peek at the map Kurt printed off the Internet, with the route outlined in red, the stores highlighted in green, and a secondary unexplained route drawn in yellow.

“Hey” - Blaine points to the yellow line - “what route is that?”

“That’s emergency escape route B, in case we take longer than expected. It bypasses the food court and diverts to a lesser known exit.”

“Does that … go up to the roof?”

“A-ha. And down the fire escape on the outer wall over Wings ‘n Things.” Kurt catches Blaine staring at him in awe. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, mon amour.”

“I’m not hatin’. I’m just wondering why that can’t be elevated to escape route A. It sounds like way more fun.”

“Well, I did want to live to see tomorrow, but I’ll consider it. Now let’s get a move on!”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Blaine hops out of his seat and races around to the trunk before Kurt can lock up.

“What wait? No wait! Blaine! It’s only three days till Christmas! Three days! Everyone and their grandmother is going to be inside that mall. If we don’t get in there right now, we’re going to get caught in the middle of a blood bath, and I’m not wearing my coveralls!”

“Exactly!” Blaine says, rummaging through the trunk. “The three days … not … you know … the blood. That means I only have three days to use this.”

“To use wha---oh my God …” Kurt watches in horror as Blaine begins, without permission, decorating Kurt’s car.

“Blaine!” Kurt groans with what is sure to become a deep, abiding pain. “You are not putting reindeer antlers and a big red nose on my baby!”

“Why not? It won’t damage it.”

“Yes. Yes, it will. It’s bruising my soul as we speak!”

“It’s festive!”

“It’s tacky! Put it on your car!”

Blaine laughs. “You never want to take my car anymore! Yours has backseats. Mine doesn’t. Remember?”

“That’s no excuse for punishing me like this! No Mustang in the world deserves this kind of treatment!”

“It’s functional!”

“What?” Kurt scoffs. “How do you figure that!?”

“Come on. I’ll show you.” Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and leads him away. Kurt quickly sets the alarm as he’s dragged against his will, mourning the state of his poor, humiliated Mustang. Blaine leads Kurt to the very front of the parking lot and steps up onto a curb. “See.” He gestures to the sea of cars already filling empty spot after empty spot between them and Kurt’s Mustang. “Without my tacky decorations, your vehicle would get lost in the crowd.”

“Bite your tongue, Anderson,” Kurt growls.

“You do it for me,” Blaine quips without a thought. “Anyway, we would spend needless time after shopping searching for it. This way, it’s easy to find.”

“Blaine,” Kurt begins, his sanity lodged somewhere between his throat and his watery eyes as he sees his sleek, sexy baby sticking out like a sore thumb, “you’re right. That is a (ahem) brilliant idea.”

“Thank you, Kurt,” Blaine says, chest puffed with pride.

“Of course, we could have always done this …” Kurt takes out his iPhone from his pocket, unlocks the screen, and selects an app.

“Kurt! Anyone can use My Car Locator. This is Christmas! How much longer can we put antlers on a vehicle and not seem insane!?”

“Blaine …” Kurt turns Blaine in the direction of a nearby Ford pickup with two sets of buck antlers mounted to the cab rack “… we live in Ohio. Everyone’s insane here. Antlers would just make us blend in more.”

“Touche,” Blaine says in a condescending tone, and with an exaggerated sigh. “You’re right. I’ll just go and take it off then, Scrooge-y McScrooge-pants.” He takes a step back towards the Mustang, ready to divest the car of its short-lived holiday trappings, but Kurt grabs the hand of his sassy boyfriend and tugs him towards the mall.

“Come on, Sexy Santa. There’s no use going back. What’s done is done. Leave it. We’re already late.”

“You’re too kind to me, darling,” Blaine says, rushing to keep up with Kurt as he picks up speed.

“Yeah, well, if it makes you happy, I’m willing to keep it … for now. Besides, that may have to be your gift this year. We’re already seven minutes behind schedule!”

“Nu-uh. You’re giving me my gift tonight, because that’s when I’ll be giving you your gift.”

“Really?” Kurt huffs, but also intrigued. “And what’s that?”

“Meet me in your backseat later, darling, and you’ll find out.”