Chapter Six: Hits and Misses

Kurt critically examined himself in the mirror for what had to be the millionth time that night. He had spent the entire day preparing for his date with Blaine. He'd promised his hair stylist Angelina his first born and gotten her to agree to squeeze him in for an emergency appointment. Then he'd made his way to Lima's Petite Retreat Day Spa and splurged on himself. One manicure, pedicure, and European facial later, he left feeling positive that he was well on his way to putting his best foot forward.

Upon his arrival home he immediately locked himself in his room and began getting into his preselected outfit. Kurt had chosen carefully, wanting to make sure he was perfectly coordinated from pocket square to patterned sock.

When he finished dressing Kurt took a final look in the mirror and smiled. He couldn't deny he was nervous but if he was confident in anything, it was his fashion sense.

Kurt had outfitted himself in a light tangerine colored single breasted suit jacket that he'd paired with a mocha colored v-neck cashmere sweater and a white pin striped dress shirt. He'd selected a tie with a plaid mocha, tangerine and turquoise pattern and accessorized his purple skinny wool trousers with a slim brown belt. He lightly cuffed the hem of his jeans to display his tartan patterned socks and shiny washed leather lace ups. Kurt adjusted his pocket square, took one final look in the mirror and made his way upstairs.

Burt Hummel was seated in his recliner, watching an episode of Top Gear and waiting to put the fear of both God and Hummel in Kurt's date.

"Dad!" Kurt accused, "You promised you'd be on your best behavior."

Burt grunted. "What?" He asked innocently. "I'm just watching tv waiting to meet your, uh, date."

"Do you often watch tv with your shotgun lying across your lap?" Kurt asked reproachfully.

"It needed cleaning," Burt defended.

"You cleaned it last week."

"Kurt," Burt sighed, "Don't push your luck. I'm letting you go God knows where to do God knows what with some pu-, uh kid, that I don't even know, and this is after I let you cut out early on family dinner night to hang out with Mercedes. Be grateful I'm not sitting out on the front porch, loading the damn thing and waiting on him to pull up."

Kurt gave his father his best bitch face. "You are aware that this is insane? And more than a little insulting seeing as how you're acting as if I'm daddy's little girl and you're defending my virtue."

Burt whipped his head around to face Kurt. "Does your virtue need defending?" He demanded harshly.

"DAD! Oh my…Blaine and I just met. He's taking me to dinner, not the No Tell Motel over on east Belmont."

"How the hell do you know about the motel over on Belmont?" Burt thundered.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Dad, I work at the garage three days a week. You know how the guys talk around there. I hear a lot of things you probably wish I didn't."

"Like what?" Burt demanded with his eyes narrowed.

"Like you had an Egg McMuffin for breakfast Tuesday instead of the Tofu Scramble I left for you." Kurt said crossing his arms.

Burt flushed. "Yeah well…I better not hear about you and this Wayne going to that motel!"

"Blaine, dad. His name is Blaine."

"His name will be mud if you go anywhere near that hotel."

"This is not happening. I have eaten another one of Puck's pot cupcakes and I'm hallucinating," Kurt moaned.

"YOU ATE POT CUPCAKES?" Burt roared.

"Not on purpose!" Kurt screeched.

"Kurt, I will make you pee in a cup right now if you-"

The doorbell rang before Burt could finish his sentence.

"Dad please, I'll explain about the cupcakes later. I promise I don't need to go on Intervention. Just please, please, please don't embarrass me in front of Blaine," Kurt begged as he went to answer the door.

Kurt opened the door and felt his breath get stolen away.

Blaine had ditched his regular Dalton attire in favor of a dark, navy blue cardigan paired with a butterscotch colored long sleeved dress shirt. He had a funky navy blue and white checkered tie loosely knotted around his neck and his slim white corduroy pants were slung low around his hips.

"You look…your hair," Kurt breathed, transfixed by the softly tousled mass of ebony curls atop Blaine's head.

"This is the first time you've seen it not gelled into submission, isn't it?" Blaine asked with a smile. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," Kurt answered quickly. "Not that I don't like your hair the other way too…it's just this…um, come in."

Blaine laughed easily before stepping inside and Kurt closed the door behind him. "Here, these are for you." Blaine said.

Kurt breathed out a nearly silent "oh" as he accepted the flower arrangement. Blaine hadn't gone with traditional roses, opting instead to gift Kurt with yellow cymbidium orchids accented with amaranthus and equisetum in a simple rectangular glass vase.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured.

"You're most welcome. You look magnificent, by the way."

"So do you."

Blaine and Kurt locked eyes and Kurt felt his heart begin to race.

"Kurt? You gonna introduce me to your friend, son?" Burt's voice broke the moment and Kurt tore his gaze away from Blaine.

"Blaine, this is my dad," Kurt introduced. "Dad, this is Blaine."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hummel." Blaine said, shaking Burt's hand. He winced slightly at Burt's tighter than necessary grip but met the elder man's intimidating gaze steadily.

"So you're the kid who thinks he's taking my boy to dinner tonight," Burt said, a bit of a challenge in his tone.

So that's how it's going to be…

"Yes sir. I was hoping to." Blaine replied calmly.

"And just where are you planning on taking him?" Burt demanded, his eyes sliding to the shotgun he'd left lying on the coffee table.

Blaine followed Burt's gaze and his eyes widened slightly but he didn't back down.

"Well Mr. Hummel I –"

"Dad," Kurt broke in, "Stop it. You know the only decent place for dinner around here is Breadstix."

Blaine smirked. "Actually Kurt, I was planning on taking you to The Ashbury-"

"You're taking me to Ashbury Dinner Theater?" Kurt squealed

Blaine smiled. "I know dinner theater is a bit…pass� but they're doing Hairspray and you mentioned it was one of your favorite musicals so-,"

"Isn't that place in Bowling Green?" Burt broke in. "I don't know if I'm entirely comfortable with you doing so much driving in one night."

Kurt shot his father a positively murderous look. "Dad, I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Just what kind of car do you drive?" Burt ignored Kurt in favor of questioning Blaine.

Don't tell him about the jag, don't tell him about the jag, Kurt mentally chanted.

"Well, my personal vehicle is a 1956 Jaguar XK 140 –"

Kurt's heart plummeted. There was no way Burt was going to let Blaine take him anywhere in a sports car.

"But I was concerned that you wouldn't be entirely comfortable with a boy you just met driving off with Kurt in such a …high performance vehicle," Blaine continued.

"Is that so?" Burt questioned.

"Yes sir. Kurt's explained to me that your approval means a great deal to him and I wanted to make certain I had anticipated any potential objections you might have to my plans for our evening so Kurt and I are going to be using the limo tonight. I assure you Roark is an excellent driver and Kurt will be perfectly safe with him behind the wheel."

Kurt's jaw dropped and he turned pleading eyes on his father. "Dad?"

Burt Hummel sighed. He didn't want to ruin the first date Kurt ever had but Blaine was just a little too smooth for Burt's liking. "Call me when you get there and call me when you're leaving," He said gruffly.

"Thank you dad! I promise I will. Come on, Blaine." Kurt grabbed Blaine, ready to drag him out to the car before Burt changed his mind.

"It was nice meeting you Mr. Hummel," Blaine called back as Kurt hustled him out the door.

Blaine noticed the small, fabric case in Kurt's hand and frowned. It resembled a makeup bag of some sort and Blaine was curious as to what Kurt could have in it.

"Plan on putting your face on in the car?" Blaine teased.

Kurt began to answer him but stopped short once they got outside and he saw the snow white Chrysler 300 Stretch limo in the driveway.

"Blaine, I think I've changed my mind," Kurt said quietly.

"What?" Blaine asked worriedly. "You changed your mind?"

"Yes," Kurt nodded emphatically."I'm going to have a passionate affair with the red dress from Christian's winter collection, but this car…this car is the one I'm going to have babies with."

Blaine laughed. "Oh my god, you're a total gearhead."

"Yes, yes I am," Kurt agreed, entering the door that Roark was holding open for him. Blaine climbed in beside him and watched as Kurt took in his surroundings.

"Where have you been all my life?" Kurt wondered aloud, fingering the interior.

Blaine rolled his eyes and shifted to face Kurt. "Should I leave the two of you alone?"

Kurt backhanded Blaine's upper arm. "Shut up. I'm just appreciating the ambiance here."

"In the workplace that kind of appreciation is known as sexual harassment," Blaine smirked.

"You're just jealous that I'm not appreciating you."

Blaine quirked an eyebrow and Kurt flushed fire engine red. "I...what I meant was, um, ah-"

"Shh," Blaine murmured taking a hand and gently caressing Kurt's cheek, "I was teasing."

Blaine tilted Kurt's head up and began to close the distance between their lips. His eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted in anticipation.

"Blaine," Kurt said, placing his hands on Blaine's shoulders and pulling back slightly, "I like you. I really do and I...I think I would like kissing you too but I think we should take things a little slower."

Blaine nearly howled in frustration. He wanted to kiss Kurt so badly he ached. He knew Kurt didn't have a lot of experience but surely a kiss wasn't asking for too much.

It's not as if I'm asking him to blow me for Christ's sake, Blaine thought crossly.

Kurt bit his lip in apprehension. He hoped he hadn't upset Blaine by putting the brakes but if he ended up kissing Blaine he wanted it to mean something. As much as he liked Blaine, he didn't really know him yet. Kurt had already thrown away his first kiss on a meaningless make out session with Brittney; he wasn't going to make the same mistake with Blaine.

"A-are you upset?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine exhaled harshly then gave Kurt a rueful smile. "Kurt, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. You're …spectacular and I've wanted to kiss you…and more, since the moment I saw you. But if you're not ready, then it's not right. I can wait. You set the pace here."

Kurt smiled in relief and Blaine patted his hand. "We've still got a bit of a drive ahead of us. Why don't we take advantage of that time and get to know each other a bit better?"

Kurt settled in next to Blaine. "I'm not quite sure what to say." He confessed.

Blaine shrugged. "Tell me anything. Ask me anything."

Kurt began to talk. He told Blaine about his love of scarves and his loathing of pork rinds and his plans to go to New York and attend college after graduation.

"…I know Rachel has her heart set on the two of us going to Julliard but more and more lately I'm wondering if that's really where I want to be. I mean, they don't have a musical theatre department and even if they did it's…complicated. I mean, I literally lose my breath when I hear "Defying Gravity" and I'd die to play the Master of Ceremonies in Cabaret but with my voice being so…unique my prospects on Broadway are limited. And I really love fashion. I watch Project Runway or pick up Vogue and I can see myself at Parsons and from there I have visions of Paris internships and New York Fashion Week filling my head. I just…I have these two incredible passions and I want them both and I just can't choose and since this isn't the WB and I'm not Felicity I know I have to eventually but I honestly have no clue how to do that."

Kurt grimaced when he noticed that Blaine hadn't said a word. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling," he apologized.

"No, don't apologize," Blaine said, shaking his head. "It was…hearing you planning your future, talking about your passions, trying to find your path it was inspiring."

"Inspiring? I would think at Dalton you're surrounded by guys who've planned all the way to their golden parachutes," Kurt joked.

"Kurt," Blaine said gently," It's different. You're right, most of my friends know exactly what school they're going to and exactly what industry they're going into. Most of them know where they're going to work and what they're going to be but…very few of them actually got to choose anything."

"I don't quite understand."

"With great privilege comes great responsibility," Blaine quoted scornfully. "Kurt, when the family business is a multi-million or billion dollar corporation, you grow up knowing that you're expected to have a part in it. And if not, you grow up knowing that you have to choose something…suitable like law or politics. Most of the people I grew up could have told you at four what they were going to be when they grew up."

"Oh." Kurt didn't really know what to think. He didn't want to sound judgmental but something about the picture Blaine had just painted sounded incredibly stifling to Kurt.

"So what are you going to be when you grow up?" Kurt asked

Blaine was momentarily taken aback. He had assumed that Kurt would have looked him up. A simple Google search of Blaine's name would have answered most of Kurt's questions. Blaine was used to dealing with people who knew exactly who Blaine was, exactly what he had and were willing to do any number of things to get a piece of him and his fortune.

"I…I'll be going into the family business." Blaine answered. It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the complete truth either. Just because Kurt seemed sincere and appeared to be in the dark about Blaine's status didn't mean that he was.

Blaine had enough experience with gold diggers to know that the illusion of ignorance was one of the more effective tricks of the trade.

Blaine decided it was time to change the subject. "I've got a question, does your dad usually leave his guns lying around the house or was that strictly for my benefit?"

Kurt groaned. "You remember that conversation we had about me not being a girl? I think I need to have a similar one with my father."

Blaine laughed. "Remind me to be nowhere close to Lima when that conversation happens."

"He wouldn't really shoot you, you know."

Blaine smirked remembering every fantasy he'd had about Kurt and how badly he wanted to make them come true.

"He just might," Blaine said lacing his fingers through Kurt's.

"Blaine-"

"Just don't, ok Kurt?"

Kurt gave Blaine a hopeful smile, "But-"

Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. "Please don't try and make this ok. There is nothing that would make this ok."

Dinner had been going fabulously until Kurt had begun to feel a tingling sensation in the back of his throat. He'd made several embarrassing attempts to clear his throat and waved off Blaine's concern in favor of a glass of water.

It wasn't until the coughing fit started that realization dawned on Kurt. There had to have been some sort of peanut product somewhere on his plate. Kurt had the felt panic well up in his as he felt his tongue begin to swell and he began wheezing.

"Kurt?" Blaine had asked his face tight with worry. "What's wrong? Are you sick?" Kurt had choked out a raspy, "Allergy. Peanuts. My case. The car….hurry."

Blaine had taken off like a shot, running out of the restaurant to retrieve the case he'd seen Kurt with earlier.

As concerned diners had crowded around him, Kurt had struggled to pull air into his lungs and ignore the growing circle of concerned strangers forming around him.

After what felt to Kurt like an eternity, Blaine had burst back in and shoved his way through the crowd, Kurt's case in hand.

"I got it, Kurt! Tell me what to do, please, how do I help?" Blaine had babbled.

Kurt had clutched at the case, badly shaking hands pulling open the zipper and withdrawing the Epipen. He'd immediately flipped off the cap and jabbed the pen into the outside of his thigh.

Blaine had turned pale, not knowing what to make of the entire scene.

As it became easier for him to breath, somewhere in the back of his mind Kurt had been humiliated that he'd turned their first date into such a horror story but he was too busy battling residual waves of dizziness and being grateful that the worst was over to concentrate on his embarrassment.

Now they were in a too bright, too cold, too small hospital room waiting for Burt Hummel to come collect his son and probably exact a pound of flesh from Blaine.

"Blaine, this wasn't your fault," Kurt tried again.

"Kurt, I planned every detail of tonight. I should have at least checked to make sure you wouldn't die from eating the food."

"Blaine-"

"Your father is going to kill me."

"No he won't," Kurt said firmly. "How do you think we found out I was allergic to peanuts? My dad took me a baseball game when I was four, brought me a bag of peanuts and ended up spending the seventh inning stretch in the emergency room with me learning about the wonderful world of anaphylaxis." Kurt reached over and grabbed Blaine's hand. "My dad will understand and even if he doesn't, I do."

Blaine stared at Kurt. "I'm sorry. I just wanted this to be amazing for you."

"It was," Kurt insisted. "I…enjoyed most of tonight."

"So did I," Blaine admitted. Medical emergency aside, Blaine had had a surprisingly good time on their date. Kurt was witty and engaging and refreshingly outspoken. Kurt hadn't been afraid to disagree with or challenge Blaine and their conversation had run the gamut from the legalization of gay marriage to arguing over whether Thundercats or Transformers was the greatest cartoon ever made.

"Do you think that maybe we could try this again sometime?" Kurt asked shyly.

Blaine got up and sat next to Kurt on the bed, covering his hand with his. "I would love nothing more."

Blaine and Kurt exchanged a tender look until the moment was shattered by the slightly panicked, incredibly pissed off voice of Burt Hummel demanding to know who he needed to kill.

Kurt rolled his eyes and Blaine turned to face the music.

"Sir? If you'll give me a moment to explain…"

Blaine was going to keep Burt from killing him if was the last thing he did. There was no way he was missing out on his second date with Kurt.

It took the remainder of the week end, countless lectures and several undignified hissy fits for Burt to agree to let Kurt go to school on Monday. Despite the disaster their dinner turned into Burt had also relented and given Kurt permission to keep dating Blaine. There were restrictions, such as they had to stay close to Lima for the time being and Kurt had to be more careful about double checking his food choices but Kurt wasn't going to complain if it meant he could keep seeing Blaine.

Mr. Schue's voice drew Kurt back into his current reality. "Ok you guys, I've been working really hard on our new set list for sectionals and I think I've come up with something guaranteed to knock everybody's socks off."

Kurt straightened up in his chair and leaned forward. Even though he knew Mr. Schue was going to be handing the leads over to Finn and Rachel, he was curious to see what they would be performing.

"As you guys know, this year's theme is "Soulmates" and with that in mind we're going to be doing a Motown inspired mash up. I believe that with Finn and Rachel singing lead and this set list we're going to be a force to be reckoned with," Mr. Schue continued. "So the songs I selected are Ain't No Mountain High Enough, Endless Love, and You're All I Need.

You could hear a pin drop in the choir room. All duets, all guaranteed to showcase Finn and Rachel and shove the rest of them into the shadows.

An idea formed in Kurt's mind but he was reluctant to voice it. It had rarely gone well when Kurt had spoken up in Glee. Kurt surveyed the unhappy faces of his gleemates and decided to take one for the team.

"Mr. Schue, if I may," Kurt began. "These are amazing song selections and while I have no doubt that Finn and Rachel would do an marvelous job with Endless Love," at this Rachel preened and Mr. Schue beamed, "I think I speak for everyone when I say that you might want to reconsider having them as leads on Ain't No Mountain High Enough and You're All I Need as well.

Rachel glowered at Kurt and Mr. Schue sighed. "Kurt, I realize you are probably disappointed that you didn't get a solo-," Mr. Schue began.

"Actually Mr. Schue," Kurt cut in, "I wasn't suggesting that I sing the lead." Rachel's jaw dropped in shock and Mr. Schue looked stunned. Kurt shrugged. "I know my strengths and as much as it pains me to admit it, with the exception of a few songs, classic Motown isn't really in my wheelhouse. I was actually thinking the set list might work better if Finn and Rachel did Endless Love and Ain't No Mountain High Enough was a group number."

"I see. And what about You're All I Need?" Mr. Schue asked.

Kurt bounced in his seat a bit. "I was thinking of mixing that one up a bit. We could have Puck and Santana sing the first verses of the original and then after the chorus Artie and Mercedes could come in with the Method Man and Mary J Blige remix."

"That would be off the hook, yo!" Artie said.

"Kurt that is brilliant." Quinn praised.

Emboldened by the support Kurt rushed on. "Think about it Mr. Schue! Santana and Puck are a really good compliment to Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. Mercedes could do Mary J in her sleep and Artie can totally rock the mic and drop a few of Method Man's bars."

"Mr. Schue-"Rachel began.

"Zip it, fun size. Kurt's talking." Santana snapped.

"As I was saying," Kurt continued, "We could end with Ain't No Mountain High Enough as a group number. That way, the rest of us also get a chance to be highlighted and we can show the judges our depth. And I'm sure Brittney and Mike could come up with some killer choreography and-"

"Mr. SCHUE HAS ALREADY MADE HIS DECSION!" Rachel screeched. "As the co-captains and most talented members of New Directions, Finn and I whole heartedly support-"

"Of course you and Finn support it," snorted Quinn. "You two are, once again, front and center and the rest of us are treated like red headed stepchildren and pushed off to the side."

"But I'm a blonde. And none of us have red hair," Brittney pointed out. "Is Mr. Schue colorblind?"

"No, he just has selective memory loss. Whenever a competition comes around he forgets about everyone NOT named Rachel or Finn," Santana answered.

"Seriously, Rachel what is your malfunction?" Mercedes asked. "If we follow Kurt's suggestion, you STILL get a solo. Are you so selfish that you need every single one?"

"Honestly, Rachel, you need to get over yourself," Tina remarked.

"Finn!" Rachel cried, "Say something!"

Finn shrugged. "It does seem fair…and that whole Method Man, Mary J, Motown Mix idea is kinda cool."

"Judas." Rachel hissed.

"Ok, ok, enough." Mr. Schue said. "Kurt…you've given me something to think about. I have to admit it didn't occur to me to do a group number or use the Mary J remake and you've certainly gotten your teammates excited. Give me a couple of days to work on the arrangements and we'll try it your way."

New Directions exploded in applause. Kurt found himself the recipient of more than one heartfelt thanks and even Puck gave him a brief, one armed hug.

"Awesome save, bro." Sam said, holding out a fist.

Kurt eyed Sam critically before slowly raising his hand gingerly bumping Sam's fist. Sam laughed and put an arm around Mercedes. "We'll work on that, Hunter." He said with a wink. "Topanga and I are gonna get out of here."

"Boy, why the hell are you calling me Topanga?" Mercedes asked as she and Sam exited the room.

Rachel marched up to Kurt. "I won't soon forgive or forget this treachery," She said, jabbing a finger into Kurt's chest. "Finn, take me home now." Rachel demanded.

Finn sighed and rose out of his seat. As Kurt grabbed his bag and made to follow the duo Rachel stopped and glared at him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "While I can assure you I have no desire to prolong my exposure to your particular brand of insanity, my car is being serviced and since he doesn't have football practice Finn's giving me a ride home today. You and I will just have to peacefully co-exist for at least fifteen more minutes." Kurt exhaled and adjusted the strap on his messenger bag. "I only hope I've built up the necessary antibodies required for extended close contact with the certifiable."

"Finn, are you just going to stand there while he insults me?" Rachel demanded.

"When did he insult you?" Finn asked, confusion etching lines into his face.

"He insulted me just now, Finn. Didn't you hear him?"

"Yeah but I didn't really-"

"It's ok Finn, next time I'll clap the syllables when I use the big words," Kurt sighed.

"Now he's insulting you!" Rachel yelled. "I'm not getting in the car with him," She said crossing her arms.

"Rachel," Finn whined, "I promised my mom I'd get Kurt home."

Kurt shifted from foot to foot. "For Pete's sake Rachel, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

"I. Am. Not. Riding. With. Him." Rachel declared.

Finn turned to Kurt. "Dude, just let me take her home and I'll come right back and get you ok?"

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Don't call me dude," Kurt snapped then pursed his lips. "Go Finn. Take her home. And while you're there, make sure to get your balls back. I believe they've been bronzed and are currently occupying a prime position on the mantle."

"Rachel does not have my balls!" Finn yelled.

Kurt shrugged. "I call them like I see them."

"Come on Finn, let's go. He's just jealous of my immense talent and that you chose me."

Kurt laughed. "Rachel, you just went to the pet cemetery, resurrected Seabiscuit and then beat him to death. In case you haven't noticed, I've moved on."

Finn was blushing and Rachel was fuming as she stomped away. "Good grief. Finn, just go. I'll wait in the library." Kurt sighed with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Thanks," Finn said, hurrying to catch up with Rachel.

"Don't take all day!" Kurt yelled after him.

"Twenty minutes tops!" Finn called back.

Kurt had been waiting for Finn for over an hour. He finally gave up and tried to call his father, but found out that Burt had driven out of town to pick up a part for a customer.

Kurt was stuck. Mercedes was at work and he didn't feel like he could call Sam and ask him to come all the way back to the school to pick him up. Britney, Santana and Quinn were at Cheerios practice, Tina and Mike were probably somewhere making out, and Kurt didn't feel right about asking Mr. Abrams to come pick him up. He certainly couldn't call Noah. Puck was probably knocking over a liquor store, running an illegal dice game or doing something equally unsavory.

Kurt cringed as he faced the facts. Kurt Hummel was being forced to take the bus.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Kurt mumbled as he left the library.

One minute he was walking down the hall, the next he was on the ground so suddenly he bit his tongue and the copper tang of blood began filling his mouth.