"Kurt, can I talk to you for a second?"

Kurt got up from his seat and approached the podium.

"What's up, Mr. Schue?"

"Well, I was hoping you could do me a favor," the choir director started. Kurt raised an eyebrow. The moment he walked into practice on Tuesday evening, Mr. Schuester informed Kurt that he would be the featured soloist at the upcoming scholarship competition. Kurt wanted to object, but very few people could resist Will Schuester's constant optimistic enthusiasm. The whole event supported a worthy cause. Also, Mr. Schue made it sound like Kurt didn't really have a choice, making the announcement with a look in his eye like he had just hatched the greatest plan ever. In the end, Kurt couldn't find it in his heart to say no, though he really had no clue what he was going to sing.

"What's up?" Kurt pulled himself onto a stool next to the choir director. Mr. Schue leaned in as if he was about to impart a huge and magnificent secret.

"Well, as you may have heard, we were able to secure some real celebrity judges for the Purple Pageant this year..."

"Aaahhh, so Dr. Parsons and Liam Dodge from the Kiwanis Club actually agreed this year?" Kurt said with a sly wink.

"No," Mr. Shue said with a significant look. "No, Kurt, I mean REAL celebrities." Mr. Shue leaned in closer to Kurt, eyes darting back and forth. "Like, television celebrities."

Kurt's eyes widened.

"Really?" Kurt said. "I thought that was just a rumor."

"No, it's not, but we're keeping it under wraps for now until all the student applications are in and everything gets ironed out."

"That's...that's great!" Kurt said. "Oh, Mr. Schue. With any luck the scholarship will be huge this year."

"Yes." The director nodded.

"So, how can I help?"

"Well, since you're not competing for the scholarship, I was hoping you could act as liaison. You know, bring them drinks or pencils, just be a 'go-for' I guess." Mr. Schue winced, realizing the term "go-for" might sound bad.

"Sure." Kurt let the words wash by. "Just call me your gal Friday."

"Great!" Mr. Schue smiled, clapping Kurt on the shoulder.

Kurt turned on the stool to stand, but something niggled in the back of his mind, and he needed an answer.

"That's another thing," Kurt said. "I don't understand. I'm not competing for the Criss Colfer Scholarship. Why am I singing?"

"Well," Mr. Schue started, looking up from his sheet music a little uncomfortably, "these celebrity judges, they're volunteering their time...and they're BIG celebrities, Kurt. They didn't want anything, really..." Mr. Schue looked sheepish as he rambled. Kurt could tell something about this arrangement had Mr. Schue confused, too. "You know, usually we don't invite big name celebrities, because they need specific accommodations, and that costs money that we don't have."

Kurt nodded.

"But this guy..."

This guy?

"He called us. Called us out of the blue, and volunteered to judge. He said he didn't want anything. They would take care of everything they needed. But..."

Mr. Schue bit his lip, looking down at his sheet music.

"But what, Mr. Schue?" Kurt said, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Well, they did ask for one condition..."

Kurt sighed. He suddenly figured it out. He looked down and shook his head, an amused smile on his face.

"Let me guess...he wants to hear me sing?" Damn, Kurt thought. Got to admit it...he's good.

"Yeah," Mr. Schue said, a bit bemused. "How did you know?"

Kurt looked up and smiled.

"You don't have to worry, Mr. Schue." Kurt laughed. "Print your fliers. Their coming."

"What?" Mr. Shue said. "How do you...?"

"I'll tell Blaine Anderson that you're a fan." Kurt winked at his startled director as he laughed to himself and almost skipped away.

From: Kurt
You're a sneaky bastard, Blaine Anderson.

From: Blaine
Well, good morning to you, too, gorgeous.

From: Kurt
You know, I was going to try and find a way to sneak out of that performance, but now you have me dead to rights. Well played.

From: Blaine
;)

From: Kurt
You're lucky you're hot. Now I have to go shopping and buy a new pair of pants.

From: Blaine
I'm hot? And why do you need a new pair of pants.

From: Kurt
Because the competition is called the Purple Pageant. I don't know why, something about the sponsor's fave color being purple. I know I'm not competing, but I need something purple, and I don't have a thing.

From: Blaine
...

From: Blaine
I know you're going to say no, but I really wish you wouldn't.

From: Kurt
No to what?

From: Blaine
Let me do something for you?

From: Kurt
...

From: Blaine
Please?

From: Kurt
I'm singing in public...for you. Yes, you owe me...

From: Blaine
:)

A few days later, Kurt found himself in a store he hadn't stepped foot into in years...a store he missed so much it physically hurt. He stopped at the threshold and took a deep, cleansing breath to calm his nerves.

'I am Kurt Hummel,' he said to himself. 'And I know how to shop. I am worthy.'

Kurt stepped into Nordstrom's. He walked to the men's department, trying hard not to look too eager, and over to the special fittings desk. A young, bottle blond woman stood behind the counter oogling over an impeccably dressed young man - black hair styled perfectly to Kurt's discriminating taste, in a beautifully tailored Ralph Lauren dress shirt and slacks.

Kurt swallowed hard, ready to make his presence known.

Then the man turned, his sparkling smile lighting his face as he extended a hand.

"You must be Kurt Hummel!" the man declared, sounding more than excited. "You're early. I like that in a man." He tossed a wink Kurt's way. The girl sitting at the counter withered with jealousy.

"Uh...do I know you?" Kurt asked.

"Not yet," the man said, coming out from behind the counter and wrapping Kurt in a warm embrace. Kurt almost didn't know what to do. "But I have a feeling that you and I are going to become famous friends."

Kurt giggled. He couldn't help it. This man's attitude was infectious.

"Who exactly are you?" Kurt asked, slightly perplexed.

"I am Nick Duval," the young man said, gesturing dramatically to himself. "I am Blaine Anderson's personal shopper. He has instructed me to buy you whatever you want."

Kurt smiled awkwardly. The glimmer in Nick's eyes told Kurt that he might know what was going on between him and Blaine. Nick took Kurt's arm, and held him tight. Nick pulled Kurt close, and leaned into his ear.

"By the way," Nick whispered, his voice giddy, "I saw Blaine's wrists, and I have to say I like the way you work."

Kurt nearly choked as Nick pulled him away towards the dressing room.

Kurt waited in the tiny wooden room while Nick ran around, a dynamo of energy, pulling this pair and that pair off the rack, and delivering them to Kurt for his approval. Kurt settled on several pair, and started trying them on. He gave Nick the okay to stay in the room with him, as it seemed Nick had no intention of leaving anyway.

"I wish you had let me come get you in the car." Nick hung more pants in the dressing room for Kurt to look at. Kurt never realized that purple pants were quite so in. Nick must have found two dozen different pairs.

'Look at the pants, not the tags,' Kurt chanted to himself, 'look at the pants, not the tags...$500! Holy shit!'

"I couldn't do that," Kurt stammered a bit. "Blaine's already being so generous...and I..."

"You don't like him doing things for you?" Nick said in a quiet, sympathetic voice. "Things you think you should pay back."

Kurt dropped his head a bit. Nick sighed.

"You know..." Nick looked over the pair of pants Kurt had tried on, pulling here and there to appraise the fit. "...I'm one of Blaine's oldest friends, and he pretty much tells me everything. But even if he had never said a word about you, I can tell he thinks you're amazing."

"How do you know?" Kurt looked down at his feet, instead of his own reflection in the mirror.

"Well..." Nick handed Kurt another pair of pants, prompting him silently to change, "it's in the look in his eye." Nick smiled. "And, I know that look. I'm in love, too."

Kurt looked up, but he couldn't meet Nick's gaze. Kurt sighed.

"He told me he loved me," Kurt admitted. He hadn't really spoken to anyone about this, not even Dave. "I'm just not sure what he sees in me. We're just so...different."

"I've only known you for an hour, and do you know what I see?"

This time, Kurt looked into Nick's face, and shook his head. Nick put firm hands on Kurt's shoulders and looked deep into his blue eyes.

"I see... a force to be reckoned with."

Kurt chuckled. Nick hugged Kurt, and this time, Kurt enthusiastically hugged him back. Nick was right. They were going to become friends.

"So..." Nick pulled away from Kurt a bit, "which ones do you like?"

Kurt looked through the numerous pairs of pants, and then turned to Nick with a shy, but slightly wicked smile.

"Could you show me which ones Blaine might like?"

Kurt was pleased when Nick's smile mirrored his own.

"Oh, Mr. Hummel..." Nick dropped his voice seductively, "I know exactly which ones Mr. Anderson would prefer."

Blaine was all set for the trip to San Diego, to judge the competition, to see his Kurt sing. He had wrangled his friend Lucy Bale from another television show that filmed in the same studio to go with him, but at the last minute her dog got sick, and he was left in the lurch. He needed another celebrity to act as judge, but being last minute, no one was available.

Well, one person was available. Only Blaine really didn't want to ask.

Blaine sighed. His relationship with Sebastian had started out a little strained when he returned from his rendez-vous cut short, but since their affair had never revolved around any real emotions, it didn't take them too long to ease back into a comfortable indifference. All the same, Blaine really didn't look forward to going to Sebastian for help...especially not with this.

Blaine fixed on his brightest smile, and bounced over to where Sebastian sat, reading a copy of Esquire.

"Hey, Bas." Blaine turned a chair backward and sat down, resting his hands on the back rest. "We're friends, right?"

"Sort of," Sebastian answered without looking up. "But the answer is no."

Sebastian looked up at Blaine's bemused expression and smirked.

"I heard about you trolling the lot, trying to find anyone to come with you to your little pet charity event," Sebastian explained. "I'm kind of offended you didn't ask me first."

"I didn't think it was your scene," Blaine whined.

"It's not," Sebastian agreed, looking back down at his magazine. "But it would have been nice to be first on the list."

"And if you had been?" Blaine started to get frustrated.

"I still would have said no."

Blaine blew out a frustrated breath, looking around, wondering if one of the key grips or a random make-up artist might do the trick. Sebastian noticed he was losing his audience. He closed his magazine, and set it down.

"Why should I do this?" Sebastian asked, catching Blaine's attention. Blaine raised his eyebrows, looking for a reason that might appeal to Sebastian.

"Because it'll be fun?"

Sebastian didn't look convinced.

"Because it'll improve your karma?" Blaine tried again.

When Sebastian's expression didn't change, Blaine sighed.

"Look, I'll buy you lunch..."

Silence.

"And dinner?"

Sebastian fixed Blaine with an odd, unreadable grin.

"So...kind of like a date?"

Blaine thought he saw something strange in Sebastian's eyes...something that looked momentarily hopeful, but Blaine let the thought pass. He shrugged.

"Whatever works," Blaine said.

"Okay," Sebastian smirked, standing up. "Let's do this then."

Sebastian knew when he was being ignored. The entire drive to San Diego, Sebastian didn't even exist. Not to Blaine, anyway. Sebastian watched Blaine with hard, calculating eyes as Blaine looked out the window, sang with the radio, and smiled at nothing at all, sometimes biting his lip and blushing.

Sebastian was disgusted.

Sebastian was certain that when Blaine returned from San Diego and hadn't even mentioned his little freak, that the two of them would fall back into the swing of things. Or more specifically, the fuck of the things. Blaine hadn't approached him, and every time Sebastian suggested they retreat to his trailer for a little skin on skin action, Blaine shot him down.

Halfway into the ride, they hit traffic, and Blaine felt it would be a good opportunity to grab some lunch. They stopped at an In 'N Out to wait it out.

"You know," Sebastian said, stabbing a French fry into some ketchup, "I love burgers as much as the next guy, but when you said lunch, I pictured something a little more upscale."

"Don't be such a snob." Blaine smiled to himself again, and Sebastian had almost had enough.

"What exactly is going on here?" Sebastian asked.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, focused on his burger, and not Sebastian.

"Well, first off, you're acting really goofy..."

Blaine chuckled and shook his head.

"Annnd..." Sebastian continued, "I've never really known you to volunteer for philanthropy, so why don't you tell me exactly why you're doing this."

Blaine's phone chimed. Sebastian looked down when Blaine did and noticed his text message alert...an abbreviated version of 'Defying Gravity'. On the screen was a message, and beside it a thumbnail picture of Kurt, taken on the beach during Blaine's stay in San Diego. Blaine smiled automatically and picked up the phone to read the message. Then, with an almost girlish giggle, he quickly typed a response. Sebastian looked at his friend's display with obvious disgust.

"So, this isn't about philanthropy," Sebastian said, focusing on his fries. "This is about Hummel."

Blaine swallowed thickly and nodded, toying absently with his own fries.

"I thought you were over that," Sebastian said curtly. "You don't mention him anymore."

Blaine texted Kurt from the set constantly, but he kept their relationship mostly to himself, to avoid the rude comments that Sebastian and Mia loved to make at Kurt's expense.

"And this isn't really a date, is it?" Sebastian asked, "At least, not with me, is it?"

Blaine looked at Sebastian, mildly confused.

"Well, that's great." Sebastian stabbed his fry into the ketchup, and then tossed it down.

"What?" Blaine asked.

"Only that you've been sticking your dick up my ass for the better part of a year, trying to "find yourself", trying to "figure things out"..." Sebastian growled out with exaggerated air quotes, "And for what? To decide you're in love with this little twink in San Diego?"

"Sebastian!" Blaine admonished, eyes wide, looking around at the disapproving glares of the people in the booth next to them.

"Oh, fuck them!" Sebastian gestured at the other patrons angrily. "I have invested time in us! You don't think that our relationship mattered to me?" Sebastian had a glimmer of what looked like hurt on his face. "You don't think that I care!?"

Blaine looked at Sebastian like he was going nuts.

"No, I honestly didn't think you would care!" Blaine said. "You're the one that said from the beginning that this...this...whatever this was between us was just about sex. No love, no commitment, not even any emotion. And I agreed."

Sebastian looked passed Blaine, out the window at the cars lined up in the drive thru. Blaine looked at the emotions playing across his face. Blaine felt a little sorry for Sebastian. Had he taken Sebastian for granted? Blaine couldn't imagine how. Sebastian was always very clear with regard to the nature of their relationship, and Sebastian used Blaine for sex just as much as Blaine used Sebastian. When did Blaine all of a sudden become responsible for every one else's wants and needs? Why couldn't he just focus on his own?

"Look," Blaine said diplomatically, "we started out as friends, right?"

Sebastian kept his gaze fixed out the window.

"Can we just get through tonight without killing each other? Can't we play nice?"

"Fine." Sebastian picked up his tray and tossed out what was left of his food. He had lost his appetite. "Let's go play nice."