It had been three days since he had hung out with Kurt, and though he felt a little bad for the silence, he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage to text him until Friday afternoon. As Cooper had told him, he couldn't treat this as just some fling. Though he wanted Kurt, and even wanted Sunny, too, he'd forced himself to do some serious soul-searching before he let himself be ready for this. He had always jumped into things without thought, and he didn't want to screw this up.

Step one in not screwing up was sending a simple Hey, what are you up to this lovely Friday afternoon?

That was perfect. It was friendly, a little flirty, but not begging for anything if for some reason Kurt didn't reciprocate his feelings.

Except that had been at around three, and it was now almost nine-thirty, and he hadn't gotten a reply.

"Blainers! Are you in here?"

He jumped at the interruption and then sighed as Jake walked into the room.

"Jake, I thought you had a date with Santana?" he asked pointedly.

"He does," a smooth voice replied, and Blaine shut his eyes.

To be perfectly frank, Santana Lopez was the one thing that might have made Blaine heed his friends' comments and go back to Ohio for school, or, at the very least, find another place in Montana to go to. Though she was the soul of polite when in a crowd, she had, over the past semesters of his study, seemed to make it her life's goal to harass him on a regular basis, if only in private. The beautiful Latina had lived up to every stereotype he could think of concerning 'evil' cheerleaders and she had never missed an opportunity to make fun of his music, or his taste in clothes, or the way he wore his hair. He'd had a brief respite this semester as they had no classes together, but he should have known, when he heard that Jake was dating her, that he would be seeing her again sooner rather than later.

"Please, God, make it go away," he muttered, and she laughed, the sound one of cruel delight, if there were such a thing.

"Oh, pretty pony, you can't say you didn't miss me."

He opened hazel eyes to meet brown ones and scowled.

"Oh, I could say a lot, Santana. But I have more important things to do, so if you'll please just remove yourself from the premises..."

"Ah, Blaine, don't be like that," Jake laughed, and Blaine shot him a look of disbelief. While he couldn't deny that, for a girl, Santana was rather good looking, he had to wonder that her personality didn't register for the other boy. Or perhaps it did, and he simply chose to disregard it. It wouldn't be the first stupid thing his roommate had done, he knew. "San and I just stopped here so she could freshen up before we go out. The basketball team is throwing a party. It's gonna be tight. You interested?"

"Not remotely," he replied, and then sighed at the pouty look that took over his roommate's face. "Jake. Stop. You know me. I'm not a party guy."

"Well, that's obvious," Santana said, smiling sweetly, and Blaine's eyes narrowed.

"Come on, Blainers. It'll be fun. And there will be girls and--"

"Jake," he cut him off and laughed a little as he said, "I'm gay. Remember?"

"Oh." The boy looked dumbfounded a moment before his eyes lit up and he began, "Well, I'm sure we could still find you--"

"Not interested, Jake. Don't hurt yourself, okay? I'm just going to spend a quiet night in and relax."

"But it's Friday."

"Your point?"

Jake looked mutinous, his dark eyes flashing, and Blaine had to resist the urge to laugh again.

"Jacob?" They both turned to look at Santana, and Blaine mouthed the full name in surprise as she went on, "Why don't you go change into something more party-like? I'll keep Blaine here company."

"I don't need--" he started to protest when Jake smiled dopily and replied, "Sure thing, San. I'll be back in just a minute. Love you."

"Same here," she grinned, and waved him off.

Blaine was caught between staring after the traitor--how could he leave him alone with her like this?--and glaring at the cheerleader in suspicion.

"You love Jake?" he asked, and she laughed.

"Oh, hell, no."

"But you just--"

"He said he loved me, and I said 'same here.' What self-respecting girl doesn't love herself?" she asked frankly, and Blaine rolled his eyes and turned back to his desk.

He had tried to warn Jake, but there was no point explaining the finer points of love to someone so dumb. Still, he would be there to pick up the pieces when it all fell apart.

"So what you working on, Blainers?"

He jumped as Santana sat on the edge of his desk, and he was almost horrified as his gaze was drawn to her too-short skirt, and he scowled.

"Don't call me that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot; you prefer Twinkle-Toes, right?"

"Santana, you saw me dancing once," he snapped, flipping a page that he hadn't even read. "Do you not have anything better to do than give me stupid, inaccurate nicknames?"

"Why should I bother updating them when remembering the old ones is so much simpler?" she asked brightly, and he sighed.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Oh, pretty pony, you have no idea..."

"Please, Satan, I'm trying to study."

The grin was clear in her voice as she said, "So that's why you're staring at your phone, huh?"

He flushed and snapped his gaze up to hers, feeling guilty for reasons he couldn't quite explain, and she laughed in delight.

"Oh, Blanderson. Tell Auntie Tana all about it."

"You can't be serious."

"It's a boy, isn't it?"

Blaine shut the book on his desk; he really hadn't been reading it anyway, and turned to fully face her.

"Santana, I am not having this conversation with you. And whatever happened to your adamant stand on my sexuality? You seemed so sure I was straight," he sniped, and she shrugged.

"I've had several months to decide that you might be gay after all," she replied. "I mean, it is pretty ridiculous that you've never stared at my tits even once." Blaine choked and flushed as she went on, "And you never tried to call me once to finagle a date last summer, either."

"Santana," he managed weakly, "You're mean to me. I mean like, really horrible. The fact that you gave me your number in the first place is mind-boggling enough as it is. And you wanted me to call you for a date?"

She shrugged and flicked a dark strand over her shoulder.

"Eres caliente, soy caliente..."

He stared at her in confusion, and she sighed.

"The point is, when nothing came of it, I finally accepted your admission. So, since you and I are officially off the market, tell me about this boy you're waiting to call you."

He groaned and put his head in his hands.

"This is ridiculous. Why would you even want to help me?"

"Come on. You love who you love, right? Who am I to stand in the way?"

He looked up at her, taking in her for-once-sincere expression, and a small smile crossed his lips.

"You love who you love," he nodded, and then sighed. "I'm waiting for a text, not a call."

"Semantics," she waved his words away. "So who is he and what did you do wrong that he's not responding?"

"And what makes you think I did something wrong?" he asked, affronted, and she leveled a look at him.

"Blaine."

The fact that she said his name just by itself broke down any remaining reticence at their conversation, and he flushed and looked down awkwardly.

"I may have waited three days to contact him," he admitted, and then jumped as her hand was suddenly upon his cheek, bringing his gaze back up.

"Silly boy," she chided gently. "Knowing you, you've probably fallen for someone who doesn't understand playing hard to get."

"I wasn't playing anything," he retorted, jerking from her grasp, and when she just looked at him, he sighed. "I was trying to make sure I was ready for a real relationship."

"And it can't be a little winter romance?"

He rolled his eyes at her words, and shook his head. "Not with him. He has too much on his plate for me to offer anything less than the real thing."

"Oh? Do tell."

Blaine cast a glance toward his doorway, willing Jake to come back, and then shrugged as the way remained empty.

"He's got a three-year-old kid," he said. "A daughter. Sunny. And I can't in good conscious enter a relationship without knowing for sure that I'm--" He broke off as he took in the girl's wide-eyed expression. "Santana? What's wrong?"

"Tell me you're not after Britt's man, Anderson."

The words were fast and hushed, but they clicked immediately, and Blaine looked at her in surprise.

"You know Kurt?"

"I know Brittany," she corrected somewhat harshly, and he blinked, at the reminder that Brittany was a cheerleader, too, and also at the sudden venom in the Latina's expression. "That girl is beautiful and sweet and perfect, Anderson, and she does not deserve to have a shitty homewrecker like yourself come in and--"

"Whoa, hey, wait," he stood as her words seemed to turn into a tangent. He almost put a hand on her arm to calm her, but then thought better of it. The mood she was suddenly in, it was more likely she would take a bite out of him than anything else. "Santana, I think you're missing some facts here."

"Oh yeah? Please, enlighten me, Buddha," she snapped, and he raised a brow at the name, but shook his head and started to explain.

"Brittany and Kurt are not together, Santana, not like that. They're just friends."

"Friends with a kid?" She scoffed at him, whipping her hair off her shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous, Anderson. I am the queen of homewreckers, and I've used every excuse in the book, and if you think you're going to convince me to help you ruin something, you need to come up with something a hell of a lot better than the fucking 'just friends' bit," she spat.

"I am not a homewrecker," he said calmly, a little proud of himself for staying so in the face of her apparent wrath. "And if you want proof, you can just ask Brittany, and she'll explain."

"Explain what, exactly, hobbit?"

"That she and Kurt can't be more than friends because Kurt is gay."

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Kurt pulled on his vest and stood slowly from the bed, careful not to shake the mattress, and took one step before his arm was caught from behind, and he sighed.

"Brittany..."

"Come back to bed," the girl murmured and he rolled his eyes.

"Leaving aside how awkward that sounds, I have a meeting with Quinn in fifteen minutes, Britt."

She blinked, her blue eyes still a little bleary with sleep, and frowned.

"Is it Monday?"

"No, Britt," he laughed gently, and pushed her hair back out of her face. "It's Saturday. It's just a one-on-one between me and her, okay?"

"Mmm," she murmured, already shutting her eyes, and Kurt couldn't help but grin as her grip on his arm slackened.

After Rachel had fed her her supper, Sunny had come back into the room and they had slept straight through the night, both his girls in his arms, and Kurt had never been more worried. Brittany had been talking in her sleep, mostly about Eddie, and it killed him that she was hurting so bad, even four years later. Brittany was the type that never stopped loving people, though, so it only made sense. He half-wished she would find someone else to fill Eddie's place, even if it tore their little family apart, but he wasn't sure he could stand to see Sunny confused as she likely would be by such a situation, not to mention, he wasn't really sure he would be able to handle it himself.

With a small sigh, he stood straight and slid his phone off the bedside table and into his pocket. He cast a glance back toward his girls, snuggled into each other, before exiting the room and closing the door softly behind him. He stopped just outside the door, surprised to see Rachel sitting in the living room, a steaming cup in her hands, and he ran a hand across the back of his neck.

"Ah, hi. I didn't realize you were up."

"I heard you in the shower," she said simply, and he smiled, and then grinned as she gestured to the extra steaming cup on the coffee table before her. "You still like it loaded with chocolate, right?"

"Of course," he laughed softly, and took the cup and sat beside her.

"So," she began slowly, "How is Brittany?"

His smile shifted, and he sunk back into the cushions.

"She's okay," he answered before taking a drink, and sighed as the chocolate-infused coffee drink filtered through his system. "A little shell-shocked, but..."

"What happened?"

"She thought she saw Eddie."

Rachel's eyes widened almost comically, and her mouth dropped.

"No."

"It wasn't him," Kurt shook his head. "Ironically enough it was his brother."

"You're kidding me. How?"

"Apparently the cheer coach is their aunt or something."

"That's ridiculous."

"You're telling me," he sighed. "Luckily, that bitch of a coach will do anything for her girls so she threw him out. Still, the shock of seeing an almost exact copy..."

"God, that must have killed Brittany."

"She's okay," he shrugged. "I explained it to her when she finally stopped crying, and she got it. It might take awhile for the hurt to go away, though."

"Of course," Rachel nodded, and he took another drink before standing up.

"I have an appointment with the counselor this morning, so I have to get going. Will you watch over them for me?"

"Of course," she said again, smiling as she stood. "I'll even make breakfast."

"Just don't set the house on fire," he teased and gave her a hug.

"Kurt, come on, I know how to cook. I'll even make bacon," she said, grimacing slightly, and he laughed as he shrugged his coat on.

"They'll love you for it. I'll be back in an hour or so," he waved and walked out the door.