“I have an appointment downtown in a little over two hours,” Kurt announces, not particularly aware of how his husband jumps straight up a foot when he enters the room. “So I have to be out the door in forty-five minutes at the latest.”

“Oh…okay,” Blaine says, scooting awkwardly around the kitchen table in opposition to Kurt, hands behind his back.

“Now, I don’t know if it’s going to go over or not, so I need you to pick up Tracy from daycare.”

“Yeah, sure, alright,” Blaine says. “I figured as much. That’s…that’s no problem.”

Kurt peeks up as he lifts the coffee carafe off the table. Blaine has made his way to the center island, but when he catches Kurt watching, he simply stands still, back pressed against it, looking vaguely nervous. Though what Blaine could have to feel nervous about at ten in the morning, Kurt has no idea. Blaine’s a morning person, but he’s not often this jittery. Still, he did get up before Kurt. From his tapping toe and the lip he’s chewing raw, Kurt suspects that Blaine’s probably on his fifth cup of coffee himself. He’s become absolutely addicted to the Organic Fair Trade Dark Ethiopian Yirgacheffe that Rachel got them for their anniversary. Blaine’s made his way through half the bag of beans all on his own.

They both have their vices. Kurt’s trying not to judge.

Kurt gives a mental shrug and goes back to pouring his second cup, satisfied that he and his husband are both in sync.

“So, what do you have planned for your day off?” Kurt asks, sitting at the table and opening the newspaper.

“Uh, nothing…really,” Blaine answers, taking a step to the right, then another. “I’m just…you know…puttering…around. Thought I’d run an errand…or two.”

“I thought you’d be kicking back and watching Orange Is the New Black,” Kurt says, overlooking Blaine’s bizarre speech pattern, “but you’ve been busy since you got up this morning.”

“Have I?” Blaine asks, sliding down the length of the counter.

“Yes, you have.” Kurt peeks up again, and Blaine shakes his head, his expression morphing from nervous to oddly suspicious. Kurt narrows his eyes.

“What’s going on with you? You seem strangely anxious about something.”

“Uh, no. I’m not…nothing,” Blaine says. “I’m not anxious. Why would I seem anxious? I’m not…hmm?”

Kurt stares curiously at Blaine. Blaine looks everywhere but at Kurt, and Kurt can’t help the feeling that his husband is hiding something from him. Kurt doesn’t like secrets, but he decides to let it go. He and Blaine have been married for a while. He’d like to believe he knows Blaine well. He has faith that whatever it is, Blaine will tell him eventually. If it were something serious, something that involved close friends and family, Kurt would know about it by now.

Besides, if Blaine is planning something, some sort of a surprise, Kurt would feel awful pressing him for details and ruining it.

“Alrighty then,” Kurt says, and flips quickly through the paper to the local ads. “Mercedes told me the Toddler Expo’s coming back to the convention center. Maybe we can take Tracy.”

“Yeah, that…that sounds like a great idea,” Blaine agrees, scooching, not too casually, toward the kitchen door. “It should be a lot of fun. Look, let’s talk about it later. I have…uh…somewhere I have to be…”

“Oh, okay,” Kurt pouts, tilting his head up, waiting for a kiss from his husband.

Blaine just stares like a frightened animal.

“Well, give me a hug and kiss before you go.” Kurt gets up from the table and approaches his husband with arms open, but Blaine freezes. Kurt wraps his arms around his reluctant husband and gives him a squeeze. Blaine’s arms remain stiff, unyielding.

“Blaine! Put your arms around me.”

Blaine shudders, arms staying relatively in place with his body shifting in Kurt’s embrace. Kurt can tell that Blaine’s obviously putting too much thought into this hug. In the end, Blaine hooks his chin onto Kurt’s shoulder and blows him a kiss, but that’s all.

“Blaine!” Kurt tugs his husband away from the counter he’s anchored to. “You’re not hugging me, you’re not kissing me. You’re acting really weird. What the heck is…” Kurt’s hands slide down Blaine’s arms, searching for his hands to hold. Instead, he feels a bulky wad of cloth. “What the…”

“Kurt…wait…please,” Blaine objects, but Kurt grabs the cloth out of Blaine’s hands. Kurt turns it over to look at the front, but he already knows what it is. It’s Blaine’s blue canvas tote, with the phrase, “The Happily Ever After Life’s a Pile of Scrap…books!” silk screened on the front in thick, white letters. Kurt frowns.

“Why do you have this?” he asks. He looks questioningly at his husband.

“Well, I…” Blaine starts, stammering as if he hasn’t figured out what to say yet. “I was going to stop by the store, you know…pick up a few things.”

“But, you only use this when we go…” Kurt’s entire face pops in surprise. “Blaine Devon Anderson-Hummel! Do not tell me you’re going to go buy more scrapbooking supplies!”

“Um…well, I…uh…” Blaine doesn’t get out a word in his defense. He just snatches the bag out of Kurt’s hands and bolts for the door.

“Blaine!” Kurt calls after him, racing around the kitchen island in pursuit. “Blaine! We talked about this! Between the fifty rolls of wrapping paper we got after Christmas and the new cutting table, we don’t have any more room!”

“It’s a clearance sale, Kurt! I’ll make room!” Blaine yells back, zipping out the front door, down the block, and around the corner before Kurt can get anywhere near him. Kurt watches a few of the neighbor moms lean heads together and giggle at the sight of Blaine flying down the sidewalk, blue canvas bag flapping behind him, and he sighs. He heads back to the kitchen to turn off the coffee machine and grab his keys. With any luck, maybe he can catch Blaine at the subway.

“God,” Kurt mumbles, shoving his wallet in his pocket. “I’d better make sure he doesn’t max out his card on beads and tape…like the man needs anymore beads and tape…”