Blaine's getting his coffee from the barista when he sees her. Santana, sitting all alone in the corner booth of the Lima Bean, staring down into a cup of coffee. He checks his watch – Kurt is due in a little bit, and he can't wait. The whole summer is now stretched out before them, an endless stretch of time when they will have nothing to do but be with each other – when he's not working for Six Flags and Kurt's not writing his musical, of course – and Blaine can't wait.

And he can't just let Santana sit in the corner all by herself, either.

“Hi, Santana,” Blaine gets her attention, approaching her.

“Blaine Warbler,” she says, looking up from her cup. “Almost didn't recognize you without the uniform. Guess that blows my theory about Kurt's tie fetish.”

He really doesn't want to blush (he does it so much in her presence), but he feels his cheeks inevitably grow hot as he avoids her growing smirk.

"Unless you're the one with the tie fetish, which is equally, if not more possible. I can give you tips, you know."

"No, thank you," he immediately responds, like the proper gentleman he is. "I'm surprised you have any 'tips' – the average Lima guy would rather subject themselves to torture than dress beyond sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt," he continues with raised eyebrows, taking off the top of his coffee to let it cool down.

She blinks in surprise before replying with, "Touch�," and another smirk. He adds some cinnamon to his coffee and stirs it with a stir stick before putting the stick in his mouth and sucking the remains of the coffee off of it. “Well,” Santana speaks again. “That explains a few things.” Blaine blinks at her for a second, and then he gets it (oh, God). He's really blushing now.

“How come you're here by yourself?” he asks, desperate to change the subject – though with Santana he's found the topic almost always comes back to sex. Blaine's not entirely sure why that is.

"I'm waiting for Dave – as if I'd be here by myself," she answers with a scoff, as if the idea is so outside of her comprehension.

He's tempted to point out that she technically was here by herself before he showed up, but she's wearing heels at least four inches high – he doesn't want one of them embedded in his foot, thank you very much.

Wait.

"Wait…Dave Karofsky? He's meeting you right now?" Blaine asks, suddenly wary.

"Yes…" She looks at him like he's suddenly lost fifty IQ points within the last five seconds. “Is that a problem, Warbler?”

“Not exactly,” Blaine replies, ignoring the threatening tone of her voice.

“I think you'd best be explaining yourself then,” she snaps, and Blaine's momentarily worried by the look in her eyes.

“Kurt's on his way,” Blaine finally spits out. “Here, now.”

“You know that Dave has been better with Kurt,” she tells him. “Why is it such a big deal?” Blaine gives her a look.

“You know how he feels about Kurt, don't you?” Blaine asks the question like he's begging to be wrong. He doesn't want Karofsky anywhere near Kurt if he can help it, regardless of how safe Santana and Kurt say Karofsky is now.

Santana is about to respond, but then her mouth forms an "O" in realization. Just when he's about to sigh in relief, assuming that she'll understand and leave, she starts grinning dangerously.

"Oh, this is gonna be good." She sighs. "I almost wish I could take credit for this, but I suppose it's just a gift to me from the universe."

Just when he's about to ask what that means, the door chimes. He whips his head to see not only Kurt walk through, but Karofsky as well, who looks distinctly uncomfortable while Kurt seems as poised and graceful as ever.

Santana is practically cackling with delight behind her coffee cup. "I love my life right now." Blaine's stomach curls up in knots, seeing them standing there together. He hates it, all of it. Kurt's giving his order now, Dave having just gave his. The barista says something to Kurt, who smiles. Blaine can't help but feel the corners of his mouth twitch even though Kurt isn't looking his way. Kurt's smile is a beautiful thing.

“If you wanted to eye-sex your boyfriend, Warbler, you should have just said so,” Santana's still grinning like she's won the lottery. “I'd have gotten Dave and left you two alone.” Blaine wishes he could come up with something half as clever to reply with – Kurt would have some kind of response just waiting to let loose.

“Are you being punished, Satan?” Speak of the devil. Blaine turns around to see Kurt standing there, a cup of coffee clutched in his hand.

“Excuse me, Ladylips,” Santana snaps at him. “But nobody puts baby in the corner.”

"You are no Jennifer Grey."

"That's true – my surgery didn't make me a nobody," Santana retorts with a triumphant smirk.

Kurt is about to continue their banter, but Blaine interrupts it with, "I like Dirty Dancing! A classic coming of age story," in the most awkward way possible.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Please. Patrick Swayze was definitely your first wet dream."

"For your information, my first crush was Ferris Bueller," Blaine counters.

She shoots Karofsky a large grin. He looks like he's tempted to make a beeline for the exit thought he's just sat down and joined them, even if it means pushing over the elderly couple that Kurt and Blaine always seem to see here. "Hey, would you look at that – you and Blainers –"

"Please don't finish that sentence!" Kurt cries out, closing his eyes and his hands twitching, as if fighting the urge to put his fingers in his ears. At this point, Blaine's not sure who's more embarrassed – him, Kurt or Karofsky. Santana's just sitting there all smug, like the cat that ate the canary. “How did your audition go?” Kurt asks Blaine, clearly attempting a change of subject. Blaine is grateful.

“I can look forward to horrible polyester outfits and singing six days a week,” Blaine answers, smiling. Kurt lets out an excited squeal.

“So it'll be just like singing with the Gaybirds?” Santana takes a sip of her coffee, and Karofsky nearly chokes on the drink he's just taken.

“Explain to me why we hang out with you again?” Kurt snaps.

“Because even though I'm a bitch, I tell it like it is, and you love me for it,” Santana replies. “And there's the little matter of me making your transfer happen.”

“Please.” Kurt looks at her disdainfully. “New Directions was floundering without me.” He turns to Blaine. “Have you given any more thought about transferring?”

“You’re transferring to McKinley?” Dave interrupts, staring at Blaine in shock.

“It’s under consideration,” Blaine says carefully, not wanting to give too much away. The last thing Blaine wants is for Karofsky to know how much he worries about Kurt being alone with him.

“Why would you do that?” Santana wants to know, staring at him like he’s insane. “You go to school in Utopia or something. Why would you descend into hell?”

“Because that’s where Kurt is,” Blaine answers, meeting Kurt’s gaze and smiling brightly.

“Excuse me,” Santana mutters, “I’m going to go vomit.”

“Just because your love life is a mess, doesn’t mean you get to bash mine,” Kurt snaps.

“Listen up, lady,” Santana replies angrily. “You don’t know the first thing about me or my love life.” She rises from her chair. “My coffee’s cold. You coming?” She barks at Dave, but doesn’t give them a backwards glance as she stalks toward the door.

Dave shrugs and Kurt sighs, and then Dave is following her out.

“I suppose I’m lucky she didn’t drive the heel of her shoe into my foot,” Kurt smiles a little.

“She’s a little intense,” Blaine agrees mildly. Truthfully, Santana scares the crap out of him, but he’s not about to admit that. He’s pretty sure Santana knows it, anyway.

“So, about you transferring….” Kurt lets that dangle, and he’s smiling at Blaine now, and Blaine wants to say yes. He’s still working on convincing his parents though and the thought of actually leaving the Warblers sends an ache through his chest.

“I’ll let you know by the time school starts?” Blaine suggests. “For now, can we just enjoy the summer?”

“Deal,” Kurt agrees, taking Blaine’s hand in his on top of the table.

“Deal,” Blaine echoes, grinning. This would be the best summer ever.