“Shit...” Blaine groaned and sat up, running a hand through his dark curls. He had to be over at McKinley State Prison by seven and it was an hour drive away. No time to shower it looked like. Today was going to suck.

Not being required to wear anything fancy, Blaine threw on a fading pair of jeans and a black collared button up shirt. He quickly brushed his teeth and attempted to comb through his unruly curls, then grabbed his leather jacket and keys and was out the door.

Going without a shower for the morning he could manage, but going without his coffee was another thing entirely. He was not giving up his coffee. So he stopped at his favorite coffee shop located just down the street from his apartment building and picked up something a bit stronger than what he was used to getting. He had a feeling he was going to need it today. Thankfully it did not take him long to get his coffee and he was out the door again. If he drove slightly faster than the speed limit when he could he might just make it in time.

Blaine was a musician. He had started out when he was younger, giving small performances at coffee shops and at occasional social events. His parents, wanting him to do more with his life, told him if he was going to waste his life away with music then at least try to go somewhere with it. They would have preferred it if he had just stayed in school and studied to be a lawyer.

So after all the constant pressure, Blaine caved and made a CD. Half of the tracks were covers and the other half was actual stuff he had written his self. At first nothing much came of it, but over one random night it seemed interest exploded and suddenly he was being asked to do concerts and more. Blaine had been thrilled, though the sudden lack of having a private life was a bit of a downer. The fan letters were fun to read, the random phone calls in the middle of the night were a pain – how did they get his number anyway? – and the few marriage proposals he had gotten from crazy fan girls were always great for a laugh later in private. Blaine had never been with a girl in his life and he was not changing that fact any time soon.

It was not like people did not know he was gay. After all, he plainly said it himself while turning down a chance to star in a romance movie – there was no way he was going to even pretend to have sex with a girl. Those really crazy fan girls apparently just did not get it.

A week ago Blaine got a call from the main head at McKinley. Sue Slyvester was her name; sounded rather tough on the phone. She explained to Blaine that on occasion if the inmates behaved themselves the prison would get some live entertainment in. They were interested in booking Blaine to perform. The prison was only an hour drive from where Blaine currently lived, and the performance was only scheduled for an hour. He would get there in the morning, around seven, to get everything set up in the prison’s main, huge gathering area – a lot of group counseling sessions were held in there – and then he would get warmed up around four to perform at five.

Blaine thought it was ridiculous to have to get up so early to get over there and get set up, but at least he knew what he was going to do in between that and when he had to be back for warm up. Some good friends of his lived over in that area and he was going to drop in for a surprise visit.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

It seemed like he made it just in time. In fact he had just about ten minutes to spare. Blaine rolled down the tinted window of his car to talk to the guy stationed at the gate, letting him know who he was. His car was thoroughly checked through just in case, and then he was finally let through. There was a pretty good open parking spot in the visitor’s lot which he grabbed and then got out to unload his car.

There was not much for him to set up. A lot of his music was just acoustic. All he really needed was his guitar. Ms. Sylvester had told him he could use their microphone system, so he had not had to bring his own. Rather convenient really.

Speaking of Ms. Sylvester, Blaine figured that must be her who was walking towards his car. The woman was not super tall, but she was strong looking. Blaine could tell just by looking at her that this was not a woman you wanted to piss off.

“Mr. Anderson?” The woman approached him, hand outstretched.

Blaine took her hand, shaking it firmly. “Yes, ma’am. Ms. Sylvester, I presume?”

Ms. Sylvester nodded. “Correct. Call me Sue. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m quite a big fan of your music. I’ll deny it otherwise.” She laughed. “Though I have to admit, you yourself, well, that crazy mop on top of your head always gave me the willies. Like a male Shirley Temple only with a voice a lot less annoying and looks that aren’t so sweet they give my perfectly straight teeth cavities.”

Blaine blinked, self consciously running a hand through his curls. Well, that was unexpected and some what rude. “Er...thanks for inviting me to perform here, Sue. I just hope your inmates appreciate my visit as much as you...do.”

“Ah, well they can be a tough crowd, but I think you’ll win most of them over easily.” Ms. Sylvester grinned lightly. “Music’s a big thing around here, oddly enough. Our head counselor here uses music heavily during group sessions. He seems to think it’ll help the guys, and gals, express their emotions or whatever other ‘my life sucks’ stuff they want to say. I think it’s a bunch of bologna with cheddar,” she waved her hand dismissively, “but, hey, whatever helps them think their worthless lives are gonna get better.”

Okay...Ms. Sylvester was definitely starting to scare him a bit.

“Oh...well, shall I set my stuff up?” Blaine asked. “I wanted to check out your microphone system before warm up this afternoon.”

“Sure, slick. Get that wooden box with strings of yours into the main room and we’ll get you all set up.” Sue did not wait but turned and headed off to the front entrance.

Blaine silently sent an apology to his guitar for Sue’s sad description of it, and then followed her into the building.

The main room was set up with a small raised wooden stage off to the one end, and then several rows of metal folding chairs facing it. There were not any windows in this room so the only light came from the several fading light panels above them on the ceiling. One of the lights in one of the corners was flicking oddly.

Sue let him head over to the stage to check out the microphone system and set his stuff up. Blaine was glad to see that, despite the rather decrepit appearance of the room and its furnishings, the microphone system and the speakers were actually really good. Almost as good as the stuff he tended to use for his little performances at the coffee shop down the street from his apartment building.

As he was testing out the one microphone, he heard someone else enter the room. Looking up he noticed Sue was gone. The new person in the room was a somewhat tall man, with neatly styled hair. He was dressed casually and looked rather laid back and friendly.

“Hey, you’re Blaine Anderson, right?” The man asked, hopping up onto the stage and walking over to join Blaine.

“Yeah.” Blaine nodded, holding his hand out to the taller man.

“Will Schuester, head counselor here.” The man introduced himself. “I’m looking forward to seeing you perform later this afternoon. Need any help setting up?”

Oh, so this was the guy who liked to have all the inmates performing stuff. Well, Will looked like a performer himself. Blaine wondered how Will had ended up here at McKinley counseling criminals...and teaching them how to express themselves with music. Not entirely a bad idea, but definitely not something one would think about when it came to helping inmates.

“I’m good.” Blaine grinned. “Honestly it didn’t take very long. Just had to get my guitar tuned up and check the microphone system and speakers. You guys have a great set up. I heard you have the inmates here perform songs during counseling sessions.”

Will nodded, grinning a bit. “Yeah. I just think it helps them open up more and express what they’re thinking or feeling. A lot of them think it is stupid and won’t participate, but we have a few guys and girls here who really take up the opportunity. It’s just a shame they’re wasting their talent, being locked up in here and all. We’re having practice around eleven if you’re interested in watching.” Will looked somewhat hopeful for a second.

Blaine felt bad saying no, but he had already made plans to invite Wes and David for lunch around eleven thirty. “I would love to, but I’m meeting some friends for lunch. They live in this town and I rarely get to see them. Maybe I could come back sometime and sit in on a practice? I really do like how you have these guys using music as a means of expression. Music has helped me with a lot of things throughout my life and I’m sure it helps them too.”

“That would be great.” Will agreed. “Leave me your number before you go this evening and I’ll get in touch.”

Blaine promised he would. Then Will excused himself, saying he had to go take care of getting some sheet music. Blaine waved farewell then decided he would head on off into town.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Wes and David, two of Blaine’s old friends from back in high school, were happily surprised to see him. The two themselves were best friends and, therefore, had decided to stay living near one another. Blaine stopped at Wes’ first and then dragged him along to surprise David. The three spent the morning conversing and catching up before heading off to lunch around twelve.

After their three hour lunch and after promising the two that he would come back to visit soon, Blaine headed back to the prison to get ready for warm up.

The prison seemed a bit more active now that it was later in the day. Will was the one to escort Blaine back to the main room this time, and it seemed like there were a lot more people roaming about than before. As the two went along, some of the inmates even called out to Blaine. Some of the comments were not so friendly. There were even a few odd looks and whistles sent in his direction. Not normally one to let himself be bothered by that sort of thing, Blaine could not help but feel a little uncomfortable in this setting. After all, it was a prison.

A man slightly taller than Blaine, and definitely more muscular, bumped roughly into him on his way past. “Watch it, pretty boy.” The man leered. And then he rather obviously let his eyes roam Blaine’s body, which made Blaine feel extremely self conscious.

“Hey, Karofsky, I didn’t see you at the last group meeting.” Will commented loudly over Blaine’s shoulder.

Karofsky snorted, giving Will an ‘are you kidding me’ look. “No way I’m going to go waste my time with your little bunch of homo freaks, singing little campfire songs and holding hands.” And with that he turned and walked off, making a point to glare at Blaine before going.

Wait a minute. Blaine was confused. This dude just made a rather rude homophobic comment, yet only a second ago he was quite obviously checking him out. That did not make any sense at all.

Will sighed next to him and tugged on Blaine’s arm, leading him onward towards the main room. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.” Blaine shrugged. He knew the people in here were going to be tough and, on occasion, rather rude. It was to be expected here.

The main room was almost as empty as the first time Blaine entered it. Except a few inmates were milling about here and there and some were even sitting in small groups through out the room. The neat rows of metal chairs from before were now disorganized and spread about. The room looked in chaos. The only part of the room seemingly untouched by the madness was the stage and Blaine’s stuff.

Thank god. He thought, heading on over with Will to the stage.

“You have an hour to warm up.” Will brought the stool that was on the stage over towards the center for Blaine to sit.

“Oh, I think I’ll be good.” Blaine replied, sitting down on the edge of the stage. He did not think he would be able to warm up even if he tried. Blaine did not normally get nervous around crowds, but, for some reason, he was nervous right now.

Maybe it was because he knew that probably over half the people in this room were capable of murdering him without a second thought. Yeah. That could be it.

So Blaine sat out the hour until five, just sitting and tuning up his guitar. The inmates mostly ignored him though some gave him a few looks now and then.

Shortly before five though a tall girl, with tanned skin and black hair held up in a ponytail, came on over and sat right on down next to him. “Hey there.” She gave him a rather charming smile.

Blaine had to admit she was pretty, but the fact that she was leaning so close to him and resting her hand on his knee was more of a fright than a turn on. “Er...hi.”

“So...I hear you’re gonna play us a little something soon. I’ll have you know that guys with guitars are quite a turn on for me.” She purred, batting her long eye lashes as she looked up at him.

Her hand had moved up his leg a tiny bit and when she gave his thigh a slight squeeze he jumped and attempted to move her hand away. “Uh, well, that’s...nice. I can honestly say you’re not my type though, sorry.”He spoke in a rush, really hoping Will or even Sue would return soon.

The girl grinned, licking her lips as she leaned in even closer to his ear. “Baby, I can be any type you’d like...”

Blaine was about to respond to that but before he could a tall, thin and muscular guy with a mohawk came over and glared down at them.

“Yo, Santana, what the fuck?” The guy sounded rather pissed off.

Blaine was starting to wish he had just stayed home that morning.

The girl, Santana, rolled her eyes. “Is there a problem, Puck?”

“Yeah, there is.” Puck replied angrily. “Why do you always have to drape yourself over every living being that walks into this hell hole? Especially losers like this?”

Okay, Blaine really did not like being called a loser. Nor did he enjoy being talked about as if he was not in the room...when he really was. “Er, excuse me, but-“

“Shut it, man-“

“Puckerman, Lopez, leave Mr. Anderson alone.” Will called out as he headed over towards them. “Don’t make me remind you what’ll happen if you two get caught fighting with visitors again.”

Puck swore and turned to walk off. Santana stood, winking down at Blaine and blowing him a kiss before walking off herself.

“Sorry about that.” Will sighed.

“Again, no problem.” Blaine laughed. “And you can tell Puck later that there was no competition. Ms. Lopez is really not my type; unless she’s really a he.”

Will chuckled, shaking his head. Sue entered the room then, which led to a lot of the inmates quieting down, and she came over to join Will and Blaine.

“Well, hi there, Schuester. Glad to see Shirley locks and hedge head together already so I don’t have to do any searching. Honestly, how much hair gel did you use this morning? Stuff’s so thick it looks like candle wax. Could probably put a wick on the top and use your head as a birthday candle. Which, by the way, mine’s coming up soon. So you better have your little choir angels sing me happy birthday or I won’t be bringing you good coffee anymore and you’ll have to drink that toxic sludge large Marge makes in the morning.”

Blaine was really starting to wonder how Sue Sylvester came up with all these insults. They were weird.

“I’m sure the guys would be thrilled to put on a little birthday performance for you, Sue.” Will told her, his smile a bit strained.

Deciding it be best to just get this over with, Blaine cleared his throat and stood. “So, I suppose we should get this show started then?”

Sue turned to him, nodding. “Great idea.” Turning out to face everyone else in the room, Sue grabbed the microphone. “HEY. LOSERS. SHUT UP.”

Okay, that was being a bit harsh. Blaine winced at the loudness. Everyone in the room had shut up.

“Now I know half of you don’t even care, so get up and leave now for god’s sake. You’re wasting my time.” Sue paused for a second. Blaine was not surprised to actually see a few inmates actually get up and leave.

That was when he caught a glimpse of a pair of bright blue eyes gazing back at him. It was only for a brief second, but that second seemed to last for a lifetime. It was as if those eyes were staring through him, gazing down into his soul. A slight shiver ran down his spine and it had nothing to do with the sudden chill as the air conditioning kicked on.

All the inmates were sort of moving and grabbing chairs to sit closer to the stage now and whoever the blue eyes had belonged to disappeared within the crowd.

“Great...” Sue continued on, “now, Mr. Anderson’s here to put on a little show for you all.”

A few guys whistled in the back, and Blaine cursed his face for getting red.

“No, not that kind of show, you morons.” Sue glared. “Now if there’s any sort of disruption during this musical performance, I’ll drag the culprits out of the room by their ears and make them do garden duty for the next month.”

There were quite a few groans at this threat. Blaine wondered what exactly was in this garden. Thinking ‘garden’ and ‘Sue’ in his head at the same time conjured up images of weird looking plants that consisted of bones and poisonous flowers...okay, maybe he should just stop thinking about it. And maybe he should have just said no to Sue’s request to perform here in the first place. He was nervous beyond belief.

Courage, Blaine. He silently told himself. He would get through this and then he would never have to come back again. Well, unless Will Schuester really contacted him to have him come back for one of his little music practices.

The next thing he knew, Sue was handing him the microphone and suddenly he had to talk. Alright. He could do this. After all, he had performed in front of hundreds before, right? Forty some inmates at a prison could not be much worse.

“Alright...evening everyone.” He started out, hoping to god that they did not start ‘booing’ or worse. “I think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a few of you already...” Yeah, but it was definitely not a pleasure entirely. “And I’ve also heard that there’s quite a bit of you who rather enjoy singing during Mr. Schuester’s little group sessions. That may come in handy later, because I’d love it if I could get a person or two to help me sing a few songs. So without further ado, let’s get started.” He smiled, hoping their silence was at least a good thing for now.

He started off with one of his favorites, a more upbeat and fun song than one of the slower ones he tended to do. And he was rather pleased that a few of the people in the crowd actually clapped for him after he was finished.

Going on from there he did a few cover songs and a few of his own songs. After a bit into the performance Blaine started to feel a bit more at ease. Especially since none of the inmates had started being disruptive yet. Probably thanks to Sue’s threat hanging over their heads. Wanting to get them more involved, he got a few of the inmates up to the stage to help him out to sing a few songs.

One of the girls, Brittany, flounced right up onto the stage and about knocked Blaine off his stool as she giggled and hugged him, saying something about how she had always used to do sing-a-longs with her little gnome friends when she was little and how it was nice to be doing one again. Santana even strutted up onto the stage to sing with Brittany and Blaine. When they finished and Santana blew Blaine a kiss before getting off the stage, Blaine caught Puckerman standing off in the back glaring at him. Oh dear.

Thankfully the time went by fast and it was not long before Blaine was saying goodnight to everyone. He could feel tension drifting away as the room slowly emptied of inmates.

“Great performance.” Will complimented him, getting up onto the stage to help Blaine pack up his guitar.

“Thanks. I’m glad they all mostly seemed to have enjoyed it.” Blaine smiled tiredly. He could not wait to make the drive home and just collapse onto his bed. Nothing to do for the next week. He was going to sleep and maybe get drunk. That sounded like a good plan.

“Not bad, not bad at all, Shorty.” Sue came up, grinning at Blaine. “Might have to get you back here sometime.”

Oh goodness. At least he was getting paid well for this. “Ah, well, just call me up.” Blaine managed to give what he hoped was a sincere smile.

The three talked for a bit longer before Blaine finally told them he had to head on home. He made up some lame excuse, because he was just too tired to care.

A guard searched him on his way out and then he was allowed to head off to his car. Blaine wearily packed his stuff into the back seat and then drove on out to the gate. The car itself was not searched, the guard there just flagging him through and complimenting his great show.

Maybe if his car had been searched then he would not have gotten home to find himself in a whole lot of trouble.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

It rained the whole drive home and Blaine swore quite a bit at all the stupid drivers around him. Honestly, who would think it was a great idea to drive super fast when you could barely see in front of you? Blaine was surprised he was not killed.

Between the loudness of his stereo and the heavy pounding of rain upon his car roof, Blaine never heard the sneeze coming from the trunk of his car.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

When Blaine finally made it back to his apartment, he thanked his landlady for having that really nice covered parking garage built next to the apartment building. Otherwise getting out of the car would have meant getting drenched.

He got his guitar out of the back seat and shut the car door. Walking around the back of the car, he was about halfway past the trunk when he heard a knocking coming from the inside. Freezing, Blaine turned wide eyes down to the closed trunk.

What the hell was that? There was nothing in there that he could remember. Especially nothing that would be knocking.

Against his better judgment, Blaine slowly placed his car key into the lock on the trunk. His other hand went into his jacket pocket where he kept a small pocket knife. Just in case.

When he hesitated a second longer a small, muffled voice came from the trunk. “You know, you could let me out any day now. Sheesh.”

There was a person, a person, in the trunk of his car. Oh shit.

Blaine unlocked the trunk quickly and threw it open.

A pair of bright blue eyes gazed up at him brightly, mischievously. “About time, god.”

Oh shit.