"Um..." Kurt paused as the awkward phrasing repeated in his head before nodding. "Yes, Coach Sue. That's exactly what I'm saying."

"And the idiots looks just like each other?"

Considering they were her nephews, he wondered a little at her question, but simply said, "Yes, ma'am."

The older lady looked like she wanted to protest at the title, but instead sat back in the chair in her office and nodded.

"I see. And Brittany saw Peter and...yes, that makes sense. Crazy sense, but then again this is Brittany we're talking about."

Kurt bristled at the insinuating note to her voice and started to call her out on it, rising halfway from his seat when she waved him back down.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Lady. I like Brittany. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but I like you, too. It takes guts to move halfway across the country when you're just starting a family. You almost remind me of a younger, gayer Sue Sylvester. Not that I would ever consider starting a family, that's ridiculous, and nonsense, to boot. I mean, honestly, can you see me playing Mommy? Ugh. And with stretch marks?"

"I--"

"Don't answer that," she cut him off, and the closest thing he'd ever seen to a smile crossed her lips as she added, "But you're alright, kid."

"Um, thanks?" He couldn't be sure that she was actually complimenting him, but from what he had seen of her in the past few months, he figured he would be better off giving thanks than not.

"So other than keeping that punk out of practice, is there anything else I can do to help?"

Part of Kurt wanted to laugh at the question; Sue Sylvester was a bitch through and through, and her offering to help was on par with pigs flying. But he only smiled and shook his head.

"Just do what you do, Coach. Brittany might be fragile sometimes, but she'll notice if you're pulling your punches with her."

"I know what you mean," she nodded. "My older sister was like that."

"Would that be Eddie and Peter's mother?"

Any openness that had been in her face closed off immediately as Sue stood, and Kurt somehow knew he had asked the wrong question.

"No," she said shortly, and walked to the door, her movement a clear gesture for him to leave. "I have to finish some prep-work before the girls finish their warm-up, Porcelain. Thanks for coming in."

"Uh, you're welcome," he began hesitantly as he rose and followed her to the door. "And please don't hesitate to call me if Brittany has another episode. I might be the only one that can help break her out of it."

The coach's expression softened at his helpless statement, and she nodded.

"I'll put you on speed dial, right after the President of the United States, and my attorney, Gloria Allred."

"Um..."

"Now get out of here. Your pale perfection is on the verge of giving me an inferiority complex, and Sue Sylvester doesn't get complexes."

He blinked at her and rushed out before she could say anything more. Sometimes, the things Coach Sue said, it was like talking to an older, scarier Brittany. The great spaghetti monster in the sky willing, she would stay the sweet girl he loved forever.

"That is one scary woman, dude."

Kurt turned in surprise at the voice behind him, and then grinned.

"Noah. What are you doing here? Do you have weight-training today?"

The tall, mohawked figure rolled his eyes, and shook his head.

"Come on, Kurt, seriously? It's cheer-practice," he gestured to the small gym behind them.

"Of course," Kurt grinned. "Got your eye on anybody in particular?"

"You're seriously talking girls with me, Kurt?" Noah raised a brow in surprise, and Kurt sighed.

"No. I'm just wondering who I should invite to the Christmas party."

"Wait, you're throwing a party?"

"Well, I used to every year back home. I figured I should keep up the tradition," he shrugged.

"Well count me in. Though I don't know where you think you're gonna hold a party in your dorm, but whatever."

"Why, Noah, I thought it'd be obvious," Kurt smiled as the other boy draped his arm over his shoulders. "We'll have the party at your place."

Noah paused, and then grinned.

"Damn right we will. I'll supply the booze if you decorate."

"Deal. And I get veto power on the guest list." When he started to protest, Kurt spoke over him, "Remember Halloween, Noah?"

"Yeah, it was bangin."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Half of your guests tried to 'bang' Brittany."

"Well, she is totally tappable."

"Ugh. Please, Noah, keep it in your pants." He laughed as they started toward the exit, and Kurt went on, "So shall I assume you're still with that Lopez girl?"

"Santana? Yeah, I guess you could say that," he muttered, easing away and forward, and Kurt shook his head as he understood his meaning.

"Trouble in paradise?" He said it with a little teasing lilt, but he knew the other boy knew he cared, and he continued, "Honestly, the two of you are like a roller-coaster and--"

"She's cheating on me again."

Kurt paused and raised a brow before asking, "She told you that?"

"No. She said she was 'expanding her repertoire.'" Kurt couldn't help but laugh as he went on, "I'd be pissed if I wasn't so turned on thinking about what she might be doing."

"You two are hopeless. Why don't you just break up?"

He shrugged and ran a hand over his mohawk.

"I don't know, man. It's just easier sticking with her, you know? And it's not like we don't have a good time. I mean, just last night, she--"

"No details, please," Kurt cut him off, frowning. "I'm still trying to get over the last time you waxed poetic over your sexual escapades."

Kurt shivered a little, and he couldn't be sure if it was from the images that conversation brought up, or the sudden chill in the air as they stepped outside and started walking the path toward his dorm.

"Don't be a prude, Hummel," Noah laughed, and Kurt just rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a prude. I'm a parent. I don't generally find myself engaging in x-rated conversations, especially not when I'm putting my little girl to bed," he added archly, reminding the other boy of where that last conversation had taken place.

Noah had the grace to flush before a smile crossed his lips, and he asked, "So where is the little monster anyway? Brittany's obviously at cheer-practice and you--"

"You did not just call Sunny a monster," Kurt dead-panned, and Noah laughed as he put his arm around him once more.

"Come on, Kurt. You're like the ultimate diva, and Brittany is, well, Brittany. If that doesn't mix to make a monster, I don't know what does."

"Noah Zechariah Puckerman," he growled, and Noah held up a hand.

"Hey, now, nobody ever said a monster couldn't be a princess, did they?"

"I'm pretty sure, in fact, somebody did."

"What? come on, you can't tell me you haven't seen Shrek."

"And now you're comparing my daughter to an ogre. That makes it all better. Thanks, Noah," he said icily as he let them into the dorm enclosure. "And Sunny had a playdate with one of her friends at church this afternoon."

Noah shook his head.

"That's kind of whack, dude. I mean, I know you love to play dress-up or whatever with Sunny, but you going to church? That's just..."

"Isn't playing dress-up enough?" he asked archly, and then sighed. "I know it's a little messed up. But Brittany believes in God, and she keeps telling me how much God loves everybody, even unicorns like me," he laughed a little as they turned the corner. "And it's not that I believe that God actually does, but, well, I believe in Brittany, so..."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Noah murmured. "I mean, Brittany would believe I was the president if I told her, and if Brittany can love you even when the rest of those Jesus freaks tell her she shouldn't, then maybe they're the ones that got it wrong."

"Uh-huh," Kurt frowned at him a moment as he started to open his door. "Though I think you're underestimating Brittany if you think you can convince her you're the president."

"You wound me, Kurt," Noah gasped, and Kurt started to retort when he stepped inside only to stop as he saw Rachel on the couch, in an animated conversation with Quinn, of all people.

"Quinn?"

They both snapped their gazes to him in surprise, and a wide smile crossed Rachel's face.

"Kurt--"

"Whoa."

Kurt turned back to see Noah gaping and he sighed as he made introductions.

"Rachel, this is my friend Noah Puckerman. Noah, this is Rachel Berry, my best friend from high school. And I'm assuming you two already know each other," he finished, gesturing to Quinn, and she smiled politely at him.

"Good to see you again, Noah."

"'Sup, Ms. Fabray? Kurt, can I see you in the kitchen for a minute?"

He frowned at the intensity behind his question, and almost pointed out the fact that the kitchen was completely open to the living room, but the words stalled at the look in his eyes and he sighed.

"Sure. Don't mind us, you too. I'm going to see about something for supper."

The two girls waved distractedly, already deep into their conversation again, and Kurt followed Noah into the kitchen area.

"Is something wrong, Noah?"

"She is so hot."

"What?" He frowned up at his friend, wondering where this was coming from, and said, "Come again?"

"The Jew. She is Jewish, right? My mind's not playing tricks on me?"

"Rachel?" He almost laughed, but he could tell the other boy was serious, and he shook his head. "Yeah, she is, but Noah, come on. You were just moaning about Santana's behavior. Don't you think you should give it a rest before you try to retaliate by cheating back?"

"Well, I--"

"Not to mention, she is very happily engaged," he said, wincing a little, but feeling good in that it was only a half lie. As far as he knew, Rachel hadn't called off the engagement. Yet.

"No way."

The devastated look on Noah's face almost broke Kurt, and he struggled to remain cool as he replied.

"Way. Besides. Rachel may be beautiful, but she's also crazy. You'll wanna light yourself on fire."

Noah's gaze was past him, clearly on the girl in question, and he grinned wide as he said, "She can light my fire any day."

"Ugh. Noah, you would strangle her in an hour."

"An hour's good," he nodded, and Kurt sighed.

"Noah. Stop. Just. No."

"Ah, Kurt..." he whined, and Kurt finally laughed.

"I mean it. You stay away from her."

The mohawked figure pouted, looking awkwardly childish, and Kurt almost laughed again, before the boy sighed and nodded.

"Fine. I'll be on my best behavior, I promise."

"I've seen your best behavior," Kurt frowned, and then shrugged, "But I'll accept it. Now was there a reason you followed me to my dorm or are you just here to annoy me?"

"What? A guy can't spend time with his boy?"

"I'm your boy, now, huh? I don't recall agreeing to that."

"But you--"

"Noah. Why don't you go home? Clearly you have no purpose here."

"Kurt..."

"Don't lie to me, Noah. You know you were only hanging around hoping Sunny would be here."

"Then why did I follow you after you said she was gone?" he challenged and Kurt raised a brow at him.

"Obviously you're desperate for attention. Look, I'll call you when she's back, okay? The Kuchins should be dropping her off about six or so, okay?"

"Kuchin? Isn't there a Kuchin girl in my history class?"

"Since it's your history class, I wouldn't know," Kurt replied drily. "But I believe the kid's mother does go here, yes. Her daughter, Hannah, she's a little younger than Sunny, but they seem to get along great, so I figure a year or so doesn't matter."

"Yeah...yeah. Okay," Noah nodded and backed toward the door. "You promise to call when she's back?"

"Cross my heart, Noah." His tone was long-suffering, but Kurt couldn't bite back the grin in response to the one that blossomed on his friend's face.

"Sweet." He turned and gave a smart salute to Rachel and Quinn. "Ladies. Good evening to you."

The two barely acknowledged him as he walked out, and Kurt laughed a little.

"I would say you're being rude, Rach, but Noah will be around enough I'm sure you'll get to know him plenty well."

Rachel looked up at him as if just realizing he was there and then blushed at his words.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt, I--"

"It's my fault," Quinn spoke over her, smiling at the girl, before aiming that same smile at Kurt. "Rachel and I were just getting to know each other better, is all."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you two met, anyway," he said, turning back to the kitchen and pulling the cookbook from the shelf above the stove. "Not because I think you need counseling, Rachel," he clarified, "Though you might, actually--"

"Hey!"

"But because you're two of my closest friends, and I want you to get to know each other," he finished, flipping to the vegetarian section of the book and sliding a finger along the list of recipes. "What do you think of a spinach lasagne, Rach? Though I don't know if we actually have spinach," he murmured, and reached up to open one of the cupboards and perused the cans inside. "God, what I wouldn't give for fresh vegetables. If you're here in the summer, Rachel, you have to come to the farmer's market with me. I bought some asparagus in August that about killed me, it was that good. The stuff at Albertson's or that organic food place on 24th, they just can't compare."

"I'll bet. But Kurt, isn't it a little early to start dinner?"

"What do you mean?" he frowned as he turned around and looked down at his watch. "It's almost--oh. Three-thirty."

"You hungry or something, Kurt?" Quinn teased and he scowled.

"No. I just got confused, with Sunny on her playdate, and it messed up my schedule."

"Aw," Rachel cooed. "You're going through Daddy withdrawal!"

"Can it, Rachel. Besides, it's not like this is the first time. It's just not a regular thing."

"Of course," she grinned, and he nearly flipped her the bird, but stopped when he remembered Quinn was sitting right there. They might be good friends, but there were still some illusions he had yet to shatter, and a cool attitude in front of others was one of them. Considering it was Rachel he had to remain cool in front of, he thought he had his work cut out for him, and he sighed before turning back to the kitchen.

"What if I baked something? Like a cake or pie or--"

"You really are messed up over this, aren't you?" Rachel asked, her voice calmer, more tender this time, and he shifted awkwardly on his feet, but said nothing. "How about chocolate chip cookies?"

He shot a glance at her over his shoulder and raised a brow.

"I don't have any vegan chocolate chips, Rach. The egg substitute, yes. The chips, no."

"A little won't kill me," she shrugged and he rolled his eyes.

"You never could say no to chocolate," he said and started pulling out bowls and utensils and ingredients. He set the oven to 350-degrees and started mixing the powdered ingredients in a smaller bowl while he softened the soy-butter in the microwave.

"You've always been a pro at multi-tasking," Rachel said fondly, and he grinned at her over his shoulder.

"I have many talents. Speaking of talents, Quinn, you seem to have one to be able to handle the great Rachel Berry for more than ten minutes."

"Hey, I'm not that bad."
"Yeah, you're worse," he laughed, and she sighed. "What did you come over for, anyway?"

"Oh," Quinn began, surprise lighting her eyes. "I almost forgot. I have your math book; you left it in my office."

"Math book?" he frowned, taking the soy-butter out of the microwave and mixing it into the sugar in the larger bowl. "I'm not taking math this semester."

"That's what I thought. Maybe it's Brittany's?"

"She has been carrying an extra book around lately," he nodded slowly. "She said something about it leading to true love. And it was a math book, huh?"

"Leading to true..."

Rachel laughed out loud as Quinn trailed off, and Kurt frowned at the both of them.

"So she thinks love is logical, so what?" He poured the flour mixture into the creamed sugar mix, tapping the bowl to make sure it all got out, and started stirring. "Anything's possible."

"Of course," Quinn nodded, and the look she gave Rachel could only be described as fond exasperation, and he wondered just how close they had gotten in the short time he had been out of the dorm. He'd walked Brittany over to cheer-practice five minutes early so he could talk to Coach Sue, so it wasn't even half an hour he'd been gone. Still, this was Quinn, who'd gotten Sunny talking to her in a single day, and gotten him out of his shell almost as quick. And Rachel didn't mind sharing her life's story (otherwise known as The Great Rachel Berry Tale, as she insisted she was naming her memoirs, no matter how many times he explained how cheesy that title was) with anybody who would listen, and even with some who wouldn't. Them getting along was a good thing, and besides, stranger things had happened.

"Did I ever tell you, Kurt?" Quinn asked after a moment when he had turned back to the counter-top, and flipped a few pages in the cookbook to check that his memory for this favorite recipe was as good as he thought.

"Tell me what?" he asked, mixing the chocolate chips into the batter.

"My first name."

"Um, it's Quinn, isn't it?" Had he remembered to add the salt? Forgetting salt, even to cut down on his sodium intake, was pure suicide when it came to making cookies. "Unless Quinn is short for something?"

"No, it's just Quinn. But, well, actually, that's my middle name."

"Oh?"

"My first name is Lucy."

"That's nice," he said distractedly as he tried to convince himself not to lick the spoon in his hand. And then the other shoe dropped, and he quite literally dropped the bowl of cookie dough on the floor. He didn't even register the crash, or think about the wasted ingredients, or how annoying of a clean-up job it was going to be. He whirled around to stare at Quinn--or Lucy, his mind corrected--halfway out of her chair to help, but held back by Rachel. Rachel. And he realized then, that the grasp wasn't casual. And that, had he been more focused, he might have seen that the two had been holding hands since probably before he came in.

"Oh dear," he said faintly, and dropped to his knees, careless of the glass and cookie dough beneath his favorite pair of jeans. "Oh dear."

"Um, surprise?" Rachel laughed, a new light in her eyes he had never seen before, and Kurt shut his own as he tried to take in the fact that his one of his best friends was holding hands with his school counselor.

"Oooooh...fuck."