Blaine was still waxing eloquent over the pancakse --having been doing so since his first bite-- when Rachel stood from the table and announced she was off to bed.

"Wait," Kurt frowned up at her in confusion. "What do you--"

"Please, Kurt, I've been up all night, remember?" she laughed and took her dishes over to the sink. "I need my beauty rest."

"You--wait. You were gonna tell me--"

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I really am tired," she sing-songed as she waltzed out of the kitchen and Kurt stood in affront.

"Rachel. We're supposed to talk."

"Goodnight, darling, I love you!"

"Rachel."

"Oh, and lovely to see you again, Blaine. Ta-ta!"

"Rachel!"

And suddenly he was all alone with Blaine, and he had no idea what to say. Any awkwardness from the night before had been pushed to the back of his mind while Rachel dominated the scene, but now that she was gone, he was at a loss. Did he bring up the subject himself? Did he pretend nothing had happened between the two of them? What really had happened, anyway? Just a small chat between friends, right? Admittedly, it was a rather emotional small chat, but what did it matter? Friends were allowed to get a little emotional now and then; it helped with the bonding experience.

He pushed aside the small voice that told him he was starting to sound like Quinn, and breathed in as he smiled across the table at his houseguest. And then spoke the same time as Blaine.

"So about last night--"

"And who is Brigitte?"

There was an awkward pause then, and Blaine smiled and rolled his eyes.

"No one to be jealous over, I assure you."

Kurt wasn't sure how red he turned, but judging by the smirk on the other boy's lips, it was probably pretty red, and he scowled and shook his head.

"I am not jealous. I just thought it was funny that you're apparently in love with some woman that you've never mentioned."

The smirk turned to full on grin before he schooled his features and shrugged.

"It's nothing so dramatic, Kurt. She's just my maid."

Kurt blinked; a part of him felt a spurt of relief. Even if Blaine was still in love with the woman, there was no way Kurt would lose to a maid. Not that he was competing, of course. Another part of him tried to picture Blaine as lord of the manner with maids waiting on him hand and foot and came up blank; it shouldn't have surprised him so much, what with Blaine's parents being who they were, and yet even with their elite social status, Blaine just seemed more the sweet neglected puppy than the pampered, spoiled poodle.

And now he was comparing his friend to a dog. He should probably apologize for that, but he shook off the thought as he looked at Blaine and tried to fit the image he had of him with this new information.

"You have a maid."

"Well, my parents do," he shrugged. "Sixteen maids, two cooks, a butler and a chauffeur, all at the beck and call of the great Theodore Anderson."

"And you're not bitter about that at all," Kurt began, starting to smile, and Blaine blushed, clearly unaware that the feeling had come through in his tone.

"Well, maybe a little. But Brigitte was all mine. She was more nanny than maid those first few years, and then I grew up and she was kind of my go-to confidant." He paused at the skeptic look on Kurt's face and gave a soft laugh. "Yeah, I know that's ridiculous. But she was all I had. My big brother skipped out the second he turned eighteen, and he's eight years older, so it's not like he was really up to spending time with a little kid like me."

"Big brother. That would be Cooper, right?" Kurt asked, recalling a conversation from earlier this week, and Blaine grinned.

"Yeah. He's a total nut, and we had a couple rough patches, but we're pretty tight these days. But back then, well...Brigitte was everything, and like I said before, I loved her."

"You loved her," he repeated, and Blaine shrugged.

"Well, she did introduce me to Disney movies."

Kurt grinned at that and nodded.

"Of course she did. Life makes perfect sense now."

"Well, I don't know about that..."

"And where is she now that you're in school?" he asked, and then added with a small frown, "Please don't tell me you brought a maid to school."

Blaine laughed again, the sound rolling through Kurt like a wave and he almost missed his reply.

"God, no. She's got her own family back in Ohio to attend to. And she would have never let me try to get away with a grilled cheese sandwich for Thanksgiving dinner."

"I'd like to know who would," Kurt retorted and he shrugged in reply.

"Well, it was kind of a tradition when I started going out to visit Cooper for the holidays."

"Oh god."

"He got married last year, so he's not completely starving these days," Blaine grinned. "Though it was close there for a bit. The first time Patience saved us from peanut butter and jelly on Christmas morning last year, I thought we'd died and gone to heaven."

"Peanut butter and jelly on Christmas?" Kurt gaped at him and Blaine blushed lightly.

"Well, it was Christmas morning, but I think I do prefer waffles." Kurt glanced down at the almost-empty plate of pancakes and raised a brow critically, and Blaine blushed an even brighter red. "Oh, no. I'm not saying I don't--I mean, I love these, they're really amazing, I mean--who knew vegan was so--I shouldn't have--I'm shutting up now," he ended on a mumble, and Kurt bit the inside of his lip so he wouldn't laugh.

If it wasn't so unnerving, Kurt would say it was cute, but as it was, he was pretty sure he preferred when Blaine was not being adorable.

"So are you seeing Cooper for Christmas again this year then?" he asked, moving them back to the previous subject.

"Probably," he nodded, his smile telling of his thanks for glossing over his misspoken words, and went on, "He's probably planning on getting me trashed since I'll be turning twenty-one this year."

"Ah, that's right," Kurt smiled in return. "You're a baby."

"Hey."

"So will this be your first drinking experience, or...?"

"I've had a few drinks here and there," he shrugged. "A couple dinner toasts on the rare occasion that my parents weren't out, and my roommates broke out champagne the first night at dinner to celebrate our cohabitation."

Kurt laughed out loud and grinned.

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Apparently it's tradition."

"By whose standards?"

"Some prep school in Indiana. Apparently Nick and Jeff went there for high school."

"And they served champagne in high school."

"Prep schools are pretty liberal. A little extra pocket money from Daddy's Swiss bank account and they'll overlook everything."

"So they did this at Dalton Academy, too, then."

"Well," he shrugged and smiled. "I tried to stay out of it. I'm not much of a drinker anyway."

"And your brother wants to get you trashed."

"He's a bit ridiculous. You should meet him next time he visits here."

Kurt blushed at the thought of meeting the other boy's family, and went silent, finding himself highly invested in the patterns he could make tracing his fork across the syrup that remained on his otherwise empty plate. Such was his attention to the flower design that was taking shape that he nearly fell out of his chair when Blaine spoke again.

"So about last night...oh, crap, are you okay?"

Kurt looked up to see Blaine reaching across the table to help him up, but he waved him off and stood, if a little shakily, and grabbed up the empty plates from the table and took them to the sink.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, Blaine? More tea?"

"Kurt..."

He gripped the edge of the sink and inhaled slowly before turning back to face the other boy. His face was open, caring, and Kurt knew he could count on him if he wanted to. But he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to.

"Can we just forget that happened, please?" he asked quietly, and a frown crossed Blaine's face.

"Kurt. This is serious business. Somebody vandalized your car."

He winced at the emphasis; he had been hoping that in his distraught state the other boy wouldn't have been able to understand all the things he had cried into his chest the night before.

"It's just a little paint, Blaine. It's not a big deal."

"The half hour you spent crying in my arms before you fell asleep tells me different."

Kurt scowled even as he flushed in embarrassment, and shook his head.

"So what? That was last night. Today is a brand new day, and I'm telling you, it's not a big deal."

"Kurt."

"What am I supposed to do, Blaine? I called the police, I watched the security videos, but I couldn't ID the guy. I don't know who hates me enough to do that. I mean, I'm living in freaking Montana. It's not like I'm going to be popular anyway, being what I am."

"Kurt, just because this isn't New York or San Francisco doesn't mean you should just expect--"

"That's the point, Blaine. This isn't New York or San Francisco or the mythical Castle in the Sky where everybody's gay and that's okay. It's Billings, Montana, and there is paint on my car. What am I supposed to do other than take it into a shop to remove it?"

His expression softened, and though Kurt jerked back at the contact, Blaine took his hands in his own, and started rubbing his thumbs lightly along the outside.

"You should let me give you some self-defense lessons."

Kurt inhaled slowly and if his smile was shaky, his snark was genuine as he asked, "What, you gonna teach me ninjitsu or something? I guess I am pretty handy with a pair of sai swords."

"Sai swords?" Blaine grinned. "Really?"

"I was bored freshman year so I ordered some off of eBay."

"Not freshman year of high school?"

"My dad learned pretty quickly that he was ill-equipped to shop for me, so he got me my own credit card. As long as I stuck to a budget, he didn't care what I bought. Or rather, he assumed that everything that came in the mail was just more clothes."

"And when he found out you were buying lethal instruments of death?"

"I don't know about lethal," he grinned, but went on, "He was pretty impressed actually, that I could handle them so well. I don't think he thought about where they came from."

Blaine grinned a moment before sobering.

"Well-handling aside, I was actually talking about getting you a little boxing training."

"Boxing?" he quirked a brow. "You're kidding."

"I learned after I got picked on my freshman year of high school. It's a good skill to have."

"If you're different, you mean," Kurt said flatly and Blaine shrugged.

"If you're too pretty to be roughed up," he countered and Kurt blushed.

"Um, thank you? But what is boxing going to do if someone's tagging my car?"

"Maybe nothing. But what if it escalates, Kurt? What if someone decides defacing your property isn't enough?"

"I could always start carrying mace."

"I can just see it," Blaine laughed, and squeezed his hands tighter. "But learning certainly won't hurt either way."

"Come on, I work in a coffee shop, not a bar. It's not like I'm going to be getting in fights on a regular basis. I just have to be careful and--what?"

Blaine was looking at him, his expression contemplative before shaking his head.

"Care to share your thoughts with the class?" Kurt asked archly, and Blaine blushed.

"Sorry. I was just trying to picture you working at a bar. It didn't quite work."

"No kidding?" Kurt rolled his eyes, almost sneering, and he blushed deeper.

"I just don't want you getting hurt, Kurt."

The soft words worked to soften his expression, and Kurt sighed.

"Thank you. And I promise I'll think about it. I just...I don't want to think about it today?"

He added a touch of pleading to his voice, hoping the other boy would drop the subject and though Blaine looked like he wanted to argue, he smiled instead and nodded, releasing Kurt's hands and sitting back down at the table. He picked up his teacup only to frown down into it.

"What's wrong?"

"It's empty."

Kurt laughed at the pouting expression on his face and turned to put the kettle on again. He picked up his own cup, noticing it was still half-full, and took a sip of the now-tepid liquid and grimaced. If he wasn't so against wasting things, he would throw it out, but as it was, he took another sip and told himself to enjoy the flavor if not the temperature.

"So what's on the agenda today?"

Kurt eyed Blaine over his tea, wondering how he could sound so calm and cheerful after such a serious subject, or even at this hour of the morning. A glance at his watch told him it was just eight, and he glanced toward the dishes in the sink, knowing he would probably be using a few of them very soon.

"Well," he began after a moment, "In about half an hour or so, I'm going to wake Brittany and Sunny for breakfast. Brittany, believe it or not, is a total morning person--"

"Okay, okay," Blaine cut in, shaking his head even as a smile crossed his lips. "So normally, I'd say yeah. That girl is kinda crazy."

"Excuse me?"

"In the best way, I promise," he said, hands up to ward off the angry look that crossed Kurt's face. "But it's eight in the morning on a Sunday. And it was almost two before she went to bed."

"Don't underestimate the girl who claims Britney Spears made her the greatest singer in the world."

Blaine laughed and shook his head.

"Really?"

"You'll have to ask her about that. She would hate if I stole her thunder," Kurt added in a stage whisper, grinning a little himself, and Blaine grinned right back.

"I will do that. So what's after breakfast?"

"Well, Brittany and Sunny usually take a quick shower together, and then I do their hair for church and--oh heck."

"Heck?" Blaine grinned, and Kurt blushed.

"I might need to ask you a favor, Blaine," he began, stopping only as the kettle started whistling and he removed it from the heat. He nearly jumped as Blaine appeared at his elbow with empty cup in hand, but he smiled down into those warm hazel eyes and brewed him a fresh cup.

"Ask me anything your heart desires, and I shall do my best to grant your request."

Kurt snickered a little at the flowery language and shook his head.

"Can the Prince Charming act and I will."

"Got it. So what's up?"

The smile grew at the casual 'translation' of his words, and Kurt reached for a clean spoon for Blaine to use, the other one having been tossed in the sink earlier. His smile fell before he turned to fully face the other boy, and asked, "Can I borrow your car this morning?" At the surprise in his eyes, Kurt rushed on, "It's just, I don't want Britt to see that...word. She'll worry too much. And Sunny's picking up her alphabet lately, and I can't stand the thought of her asking me what it says, what it means, or god, what if she actually reads it on her own? She doesn't need to know that word and--"

"Whoa, whoa, Kurt."

He came back to himself to find Blaine's hands on his arms and he started flushing as he realized he had been freaking out.

"Sorry."

"No, don't apologize. Your worries are totally legitimate. And yes, you can borrow my car. What'll you tell Brittany, though?"

"I'll just say it's having some engine troubles, and I'm going to take it in tomorrow. It's half true, anyway," he shrugged.

"Or you could tell her that I wanted to join you guys today and have it be a whole truth."

Kurt blinked in shock before cocking his head to the side.

"You want to come to church with us," he said, his voice full of skepticism, and Blaine nodded, smiling that beautiful smile that Kurt was starting to realize he was hard-pressed to resist. "You're serious?"

"Why not? I went into a church for Cooper's wedding; it was pretty cool. No lightning strikes or the voice of God casting me out." Kurt smiled, despite himself, at the description, and Blaine went on, "Plus I've spent time with you nearly every day this week. I wouldn't want to break my record."

Kurt felt himself blushing again, but tried to pass it off as nothing as he began casually, "You know, some people consider Sunday to be the first day of a new week."

"Um, hello? It's called a weekend, isn't it?"

Kurt laughed out loud at the fake affront on Blaine's face and grinned widely.

"Fine. You win. Though I might also point out that breakfast counts as spending time with me, too, you know."

Blaine only shrugged and smiled before taking a sip of his now-full teacup.

Kurt had a funny feeling that they had crossed over some lines in the friendship scheme, both last night and this morning, but as he basked in the warm glow of Blaine's happy-go-lucky aura, he decided it didn't really matter in the end. He liked Blaine, plain and simple, and if the other boy was so determined to fit himself into his life, then who was he to put him down?