On Saturday, nothing happened. Not really. Kurt spent most of the day beating himself up for how he had pressured Blaine. God, he couldn't believe he had become that guy. Blaine was sweet and pure, and Kurt cherished him, but he hadn't treated him like the blessed presence that he was.

The only other thing that had happened were the Valentines. There were two in the mail. One was a gushy, bright red and silver Hallmark card that was simply signed from your secret admirer. The second was hand-written and beautiful in a folksy artsy way, showing a bee hovering over a rose. The prose read your secret honey wants you to bee mine. It was cheesy but also very endearing, and Kurt's heart ached for the football player who had fixated on him and whose affection Kurt could never return, even if Blaine weren't part of the picture. Karofsky just wasn't for him.

There were also flowers—a giant bouquet of tulips and carnations and lilies in a profusion of colors. There was no card with these. The delivery girl at the door simply said, “These are for Kurt.”

On Sunday, nothing happened either. There was no mail and no florists' delivery, so there were no Valentines, either, and Kurt was grateful for the respite. Burt and Finn lazed around watching college basketball, and Kurt pretended to watch with them, Vogue open on his lap, secretly thinking of all the ways that he might save Finn.

Monday was equally uneventful. There were more Valentines, and Kurt also jumped out of his skin when a spate of hearts fell from the ceiling into his hair, but he soon discovered that he was just collateral in the fall-out from two fellow Glee members fighting to outdo their Valentine's gestures in order to win the affection of Glees least melodious songstress, Sugar. Sugar had reminded Kurt at least six times that he had to come to the Valentine's Day party her dad was throwing at Breadstix and to “bring a date, because singles are just too sad.”

Sighing, Kurt had texted Sebastian.

Kurt: I need a date.

Sebastian: Cinco de Mayo, the fourth of July, December 7, 1941—a day that will live in infamy.

Kurt: Has anyone ever told you that you're a smart ass? I need a DATE date for a stupid Valentine's party.

Sebastian: Why Kurt Hummel, are you asking me out? I do declare.

Kurt: Listen, Scarlet, just show up and try not to be yourself.

Sebastian: Ah, Hummel, you move me with your honeyed words. Why not Blaine? I know you're warm for his form.

Kurt: You did NOT just say that. What are you, twelve?

Sebastian: You didn't answer the question.

Kurt: I need to stop coming after Blaine. It's not fair.

Sebastian: All's fair in love and war, honey.

Kurt: It turns out that's not true at all.

Sebastian's next text was unexpectedly insightful and kind.

Sebastian: Always happy to help out a bro. Name the time and place.

On Tuesday there were four (four!) teddy bears in Kurt's locker. Kurt wondered why they even had locks on their lockers if someone could easily pick the lock four times. Then Kurt mentally made fun of himself for using the word “lock” so many times in the same sentence, even in his head. And that made him think of an old tongue twister: if you stick a stock of liquor in your locker, it is slick to put a lock upon your stock…

Kurt groaned and ran a hand over his face. He was clearly losing it.

Finn walked by and gave him a strange look, “You okay, buddy?”

Kurt smiled, “Sure, little brother. Just thinking about stuff.”

Finn gave him his patented smirk, “I thought I smelled smoke.”

Kurt gave Finn a playful shove, and Finn wrapped one arm around Kurt's neck and dragged him down the hall toward class. Kurt's heart exploded with love and sadness at the gesture. He had to keep Finn safe. He just had to.

Kurt arrived early at Breadstix. The older blonde woman who usually waited on them but whose name now escaped Kurt (was it Brenda?) told Kurt that they were closed for a private party. Kurt showed her his invitation and said, “I know; I'm just here early.”

He hadn't wanted to come early, but he had come early last time to meet his secret admirer who turned out to be Karofsky, not Blaine. Everything within Kurt rebelled against having to relive the scene where he told Karofsky he didn't like him, but he needed to do it again and do it better this time. Certainly he needed to do it more privately.

Kurt scanned the room. Because of the party, Breadstix wasn't letting in any new customers, but there was still a smattering of late lunch customers finishing up at various tables. Kurt's eyes fell on the blonde weasel who had cruelly outed Karofsky to his whole school the last time around. For a moment Kurt was confused. In this time frame, Karofsky didn't transfer schools, so what was this guy doing here? Then Kurt realized that the guy was going to be here in all dimensions, but whether or not he could hurt Karofsky mattered only depending on what Kurt did and what Karofsky did. Blonde weasel was essentially innocent in this dimension. Still, Kurt had to squelch the urge to kick him in the balls.

Kurt felt a huge, hairy paw on his shoulder, and he turned around reluctantly, already knowing what he would see. Sure enough, when he pirouetted a giant gorilla stood in front of him holding a card, a box of chocolates, and some balloons. The gorilla thrust the three items at Kurt, and when Kurt took them, he moved his hands up to remove his headpiece.

“No!” Kurt shouted, and the entire restaurant turned around and looked at him. “I mean,” Kurt said in a more reasonable voice, the color rising in his cheeks, “keep the gorilla head on.”

Kurt grabbed the arm of the ape that he assumed was Karofsky and led him closer to the bar. In a low voice he said, “Do you see the guy at the table by the window?”

The gorilla tilted his head back a little to see better through the mask, then he nodded. In a muffled voice he said, “He plays football for East.”

Kurt nodded, “I thought so. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want to make an appearance in front of that guy, so just leave your gorilla head on, okay?”

The gorilla made a gesture that Kurt assumed was a shrug, and he was about to suggest that they find an out of the way table when Kurt felt a different hand on his shoulder blade. Turning, Kurt saw another gorilla, only this one was much shorter than the first. He, too, (at least, Kurt assumed it was a he) was holding chocolates, balloons, and a card, which Kurt also took.

Then another gorilla appeared. And then another one.