Blaine spent most of Sunday morning in his bedroom, working on the song he was writing. It was beginning to come together, but he wasn't sure it was good enough to perform, especially not in front of Kurt, who would know if it were musically lacking. He concentrated on adding complexity, both to the melody and the accompaniment. He was using the keyboard at the moment because he could play with one hand and take notes with the other, but he was pretty sure he would end up performing it on the guitar. He wanted a second song, in case the first one didn't work out or if Sandy needed him to fill more time. After quite a bit of thought, he settled on Scotch and Soda. Although it wasn't well known at present, he liked the sultry, bluesy tone and it suited his voice. Blaine's maternal grandparents had been big fans of the Kingston Trio, and his mom had grown up listening to their music, so it was natural for her to share it with Blaine. His earliest musical memories included Tom Dooley and Scarlet Ribbons along with Chopin and Bach.

I need to take a break! He looked around the room with a sigh. He didn't mind that his apartment was small. Since they had moved so often, his family tended not to accumulate all the we-can't-throw-this-away-because-someone-might-need-it kind of junk that other people did, and the minimalistic habit had stayed with Blaine. He loved to read, but preferred library books that could be returned after he had enjoyed them. He downloaded the majority of the music he bought; it took up less room and was more environmentally friendly than buying CDs. He didn't save the birthday cards his parents sent, and most of their other correspondence took the form of texts and e-mails. He liked clothes and needed to dress well for his job, but he would rather have a few good pieces than numerous cheap ones.

On his dresser was a carved wooden box his grandfather had made for his grandmother for their first anniversary. His mother gave it to him when he turned 10, calling it his 'treasure box'. If there was anything he couldn't bear to throw away, he was allowed to keep it, as long as it would fit in the box. If the box got full, he would have to reevaluate its contents. The box was quite large, and he was very selective about what he placed in it, so even after ten years, it was only half full. He knew he could keep anything he wanted now, regardless of size, but he still put his most valued possessions in the treasure box. He ran his finger around the large center heart with its entwined initials, marveling at the quality of the carving, before lifting the lid. When he was very little and the box still belonged to his mother, 'Katie' and 'Bill' weren't real people to him, and he couldn't imagine that the young people in the faded photograph taken at their wedding had any relation to his beloved grandparents.

There had been more items added to the box in the last month than in the entire previous year. He gently touched the signed Playbill and ticket stub from How to Succeed, remembering how happy Burt and Kurt had both been. He opened the 'cake' note and read it again before extracting the item he needed. The letter was nothing fancy, written on lined notebook paper in a somewhat messy scrawl.

Dear Blaine,

I'd like to apologize again for putting you to the trouble of having to arrange a Christmas present from me to Kurt. You took good care of us when we were there in November, and this seems like a poor way to repay you. I also want to say how glad I am to know that you are in New York to keep an eye on Kurt. I know he'll be in good hands as long as you are around. Kurt's been dreaming about New York for a long time. I'm enclosing a report he wrote when he was eight. Maybe it will give you an idea. Please use the enclosed check to buy his present and for any other expenses. I think he'd probably enjoy an experience more than an object. He usually ends up telling me what to buy him, but maybe you'll be better at picking out presents than I am.

Burt

Along with the letter, Blaine found a much older piece of paper -- the kind used for children who are still learning to write. The handwriting was childish, but very neat.

The Brooklyn Bridge
by Kurt Hummel

The Brooklyn Bridge was finished in 1883. It goes from Manhattan to Brooklyn. It is 1,595 feet long. It is a suspension bridge. One day I will go to New York. I will walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. I will look out and see the Statue of Liberty. I will eat Chinese food.

There was also a check for $300, made out to Blaine Anderson. That's quite a bit to work with. I should be able to do something really nice with this! I remember something about the Brooklyn Bridge. What was it? He opened his computer and went to Google. I think this will work, and it will actually solve another problem at the same time! I just have to get it approved and then run it by Burt.

The coffee bar was almost deserted; evidently Sunday afternoon wasn't a busy time for them. Blaine reached for his wallet, but Kurt waved him away. "You can get it next time."

"How about Mockingbird? That's another Carole King/James Taylor song, and it's a great duet," Blaine suggested as they settled in at a corner table. One day, we'll have coffee together and it will be a real date. And I'll reach across the table and take your hand.

"Um, Blaine? Carly Simon," Kurt said, suppressing a smile.

He's so cute when he does that! "What?"

"It was Carly Simon, not Carole King."

I'll bet his hands are soft. His lips, too. "Darn. That's right. I always get them mixed up." He took a sip from his cup. "This is good."

"We'd need Marcel. For sax."

Blaine's eyes grew wide and he nearly choked on his coffee. For what? Where did that come from? We don't need Marcel for anything. I don't want a Ménage à trois! How much experience has Kurt had, anyway?… Oh, he said sax. Blaine felt his ears turning red. Get a grip, Blaine. Breathe. "You're right, Kurt. Annie, too." He paused, listening to the song in his head. "We don't have enough instrumentation for Mockingbird. We'd better think of something else." I couldn't sing it without cringing now, anyway. "If you want to stay with James Taylor, you could do Shower the People."

"That's a pretty song, but I think we should do something more upbeat. How about something Christmas-y? Maybe we can get people to sing along. But nothing depressing. I'll Be Home for Christmas is not what everyone needs to hear right now."

I hope he likes his Christmas present from Burt. "It'll be hard for everyone to be away from their families during the holidays."

"What about you, Blaine? What do you have planned? Does your family live here?"

We'll be spending it together if I have anything to say about it. "I'm here for the duration, just like all of you. I'll have some time with my parents later. My dad's job causes them to relocate quite a bit. It's nice for visiting -- I get to see new towns. They're in Minnesota at the moment."

"So 'home' isn't a specific place to you?"

"No, it's people. Whenever I'm with people I love, then I'm home. It might be my parents or just good friends, but the physical location has never mattered to me."

"What about your girlfriend's family?" Kurt bit his lip. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

One day, I'll tell you the only person I'm interested in is you. "Hey, we're friends, right? It's not prying to want to get to know a friend better. I'm not in a relationship. I've been focused on school and work for so long, it just hasn't happened."

They sat in comfortable silence, drinking their coffee and listening to the carols playing in the background, until Kurt put his hand on Blaine's arm. "Can I ask you something, Blaine?"

He looks nervous. "Sure. I don't know if I'll have an answer, though."

"You know how people talk about 'love at first sight', where you meet someone and you just know that's the person you want to spend the rest of your life with? Do you believe in … well, not exactly 'love at first sight', but … do you believe that we're meant to be with a certain person, and that life or fate or whatever will bring the two of you together eventually?"

It already has. "You mean, like soul mates? Yes, I do. I don't think it happens for everyone, or maybe it does, but some people never recognize it. I think it might take getting to know the person to realize that you've met him. Or her. And I think that it might take one of the people a little longer to figure it out. The important thing is not to give up." And you're worth waiting for. Blaine took another sip of coffee before continuing. "My parents met in college, in a class neither of them needed for their degree. It was strange, really. I mean who takes a computer programming course for fun? Dad says he knew the first time he laid eyes on her. He went home that weekend and told his parents he had met the woman he was going to marry. It took her a little more time; in fact, he had to work pretty hard to get her to go out with him. Later, after they started dating, they compared notes and realized that they had almost met several times before." I wonder if our paths ever crossed. "Why, did you meet someone?" Please say 'no'. Please say 'no'.

"Not exactly." Kurt took a deep breath before saying in a rush, "Do you think it works like that for friendship? That sometimes you meet someone and it's like you've known him forever and you can tell him anything, even though you don't know much about each other and you've hardly spent any time together, and maybe there's even an age difference."

"Instant best friends? I know it does. And I think age would be immaterial." And if I'm really lucky, that best friend will also be the person I spend my life with.

Kurt looked down at the table for a moment before raising his eyes to meet Blaine's once again. A faint blush began to spread across his cheeks. "You're going to think this is weird."

Just tell me. It's okay, whatever it is. "No, I won't. You can tell me anything, Kurt. I won't judge you. I'm here for you."

Kurt smiled. "That's just it, Blaine. I feel like I can tell you anything, like we have a connection, even though we barely know each other. I realize this is your job, and I'll probably never see you again after this is over, and I won't be stalking you or anything creepy like that, and I'm talking about friendship, not romance. I'm not trying to convert you or anything …." His voice trailed off, and he broke eye contact to look down at the table again.

He feels it too! "Gee, I thought it was just me," Blaine said lightly. Kurt looked up in surprise. "I have a feeling we'll stay in touch when this is over. Who knows, you might even end up in New York some day. And just for the record, I'm completely comfortable with my sexuality. I don't have any anxiety about being 'converted', not that it's possible in the first place."

Annie crossed the room, moving to the beat of Christmas Wrapping. "Hi, guys! Ready to run through the song a few times?"

"Hey, Annie! I can tell that you are enjoying the music. Do you like that song, Blaine?"

"I do. I hadn't considered it because it's meant for a girl to sing, but it's a great song and you could change the lyrics."

"Or not. The lyrics are fine the way they are. Besides, didn't you tell me your glee club sang girls' songs all the time?"

Blaine smiled at the memory. "Yes, we did. I went to a beautiful private school for my junior and senior years of high school. Long curving staircases, marble floors, artwork everywhere. Our practice room had a chandelier and elegant leather couches. I shouldn't admit this, but I was really bad about climbing on the furniture while I was singing."

"Didn't your teacher say anything?"

"We didn't have a teacher, Annie. The Warblers were run by an elected council of three students, usually seniors, and we voted on everything."

Kurt was suddenly very still. "The Warblers?"

What's wrong? Why does he look like that? "Yes, the Dalton Academy Warblers."

"The Dalton Academy Warblers from Westerville, Ohio."

That wasn't a question. "How did you know that, Kurt?"

Kurt pulled out his iPod, located the photo he wanted and passed it to Blaine, who stared at it in disbelief for several seconds before speaking. "So Wes finally got his gavel," he said slowly.

"And you're the 'Blaine' we were never quite good enough to live up to."