[mood music]

"Kurt, isnt this exciting?" Rachel enthused as they stepped off the plane in Boise.  Kurt rolled his eyes.  Kurt had decided that forcing Rachel go with him was a fitting punishment for making him enter the stupid drawing in the first place, but she was determined to ruin it by being excited about the prize.  She had chatted non-stop about how much fun it would be travel out West and see the mountains, and how it might be perfect research if they ever did a revival of Annie Get Your Gun.  She even went so far as to look up history and factoids about Idaho, and then she trotted them out when Kurt was trying to read The New York Times or do push-ups in his room. 

Thanks to Rachel, he now knew that Idaho was the Gem State (not the potato state), that 80 percent of the states one million residents lived along the Snake River, and that potatoes (which most Idahoans did not call spuds) were the states major agricultural crop, and that what made Idaho potatoes great was volcanic soil.  Kurt also learned that the state had several distinctive topologies, from the high desert plains in the South to the rolling hills of the Palouse to the tree covered mountains of the north.  Kurt was sure this information would be important to him...never. 

It was nighttime when they landed, so the airports windows revealed nothing but dots of light as they navigated the halls, people movers, and escalators to baggage claim.  "I wish we could see something," Rachel lamented, and Kurt figured one Hell looked pretty much like the next, so he just grunted in reply. 

As they gathered their luggage, they saw a tall Latina woman standing next to the luggage conveyer holding a sign reading, "KB Ranch," and as they walked up to her Rachel announced, "Hi, Im Rachel Berry, and this is Kurt Hummel."

"Santana Lopez," the woman replied, juggling the sign so that she could shake their hands.  "Welcome to Boise." She pronounced it boy-see, and Kurt filed that away with the other useless Idaho trivia he was compiling in a dark, tumbleweed strewn, corner of his brain. 

Santana continued, "Were waiting on a couple more guests--nine in total--and then well head out.  Theres a coffee stand around the corner, if you need a fix."  She said this like it wasnt ten oclock at night.  Later Kurt would discover to his amazement that the locals who drank coffee drank it practically non-stop from morning until bedtime, and the caffeine didnt seem to faze them.  It was kind of impressive, actually. 

"Can we get something for you?" Rachel asked sweetly, and Santana suddenly looked at Rachel with more than professional curiosity.  Kurt, who had a well-developed sense of these things, realized that, like him, Santana batted for the other team. He wondered how hard it was to be gay in Idaho, which Rachel had told him was one of the most conservative states in the country; it was a nightmare growing up gay in Ohio, which had more than ten times the people, and, presumably, ten times the number of gay people.  

"A short, double-shot Americano with a splash of cream.  Thanks." 

Kurts eyebrow rose.  Somehow, he had imagined that Idaho was a place where coffee was made by boiling grounds over a camp fire.  The fact that there was real coffee--at least in the airport--was a good sign.  Rachel and he rounded the corner, and Kurt spotted a kiosk marked "Moxie Java."  He ordered a decaf mocha, Rachel ordered a decaf frozen caramel latte, and Kurt placed Santanas order.  When their drinks arrived, Kurt took a sip and sighed.  Maybe this wouldnt be so bad, after all. 

When they returned to Santana and handed her the coffee--for which she gave a grateful nod--several more people had joined the group.  Santana herded them outside to a large passenger van where a blonde man with a wide mouth and a big grin greeted them as he loaded their luggage.  He was well-toned and handsome, but the look was spoiled somewhat by his outfit, which included a snap-front Western shirt in pink and turquoise plaid and a huge cowboy hat.  Kurt could get on board with his butt-hugging jeans, but everything else had to go. 

"Everyone," Santana announced, "this is Sam.  Hes the assistant ranch foreman, but usually everyone around here wears two or three hats, so hes also the chauffeur tonight."  She pulled Sams cowboy hat off his head and put it on her own, where it looked decidedly better.  Everyone laughed, including Sam, who attempted and failed to remedy his hat hair by running a hand through his golden locks.

After Santana introduced each of the passengers to Sam, he shook their hands in turn, clasping their hands in his warm, calloused one.  Finally, however, they all made to get into the vehicle, and Kurt sagged with relief and exhaustion. 

Kurt piled into the back of the van with Rachel and a blonde girl named Brittany.  Brittany introduced Kurt and Rachel to her parents, Dr. Pierce and Dr. Preston-Pierce, who each looked up from their respective e-readers just long enough to nod perfunctory acknowledgements to Kurt and Rachel.  According to Brittany, the Drs. Pierce were both college professors, and they insisted on a family holiday to some place new every summer, just the three of them. 

"What do you do on these holidays?" Rachel asked. 

Brittany shrugged, "Mostly my parents just read or work on their latest books.  Your hair is shiny like a pony," she said to Rachel, reaching out to stroke it.    

Kurt thought it was a joke at first, but as they rode into the night Brittany made a few comments involving unicorns and rainbows that convinced Kurt that she might be just the littlest bit slow.  Then Brittany revealed that she was a junior at MIT majoring in math, which caused Kurt and Rachel to exchange puzzled glances. 

After driving for three hours in which the two hour time difference caught up with an already exhausted Kurt, his head was nodding when they finally pulled into the ranch.  Kurt caught the barest glimpse of lodge poles and stone before Sam and Santana ushered the entire group into a tastefully appointed central room in the main lodge with cathedral ceilings and massive windows.  Santana called each person by name, handed them a room key, and directed them to their rooms.  She also announced that breakfast service would begin at 7 am, and that she hoped everyone would have a good night. 

Even exhausted, Kurt managed to notice that Santanas eyes lingered a little longer on Brittanys retreating form than was strictly necessary; however, Kurt didnt have much time to think about it.  He barely glanced at his own room before collapsing on his bed and passing out cold.