"Right this way you guys, come on, move along." Blaine Anderson was happily strolling through the Los Angeles mall, on a bright summer day.
"Papa." Evangeline cast a pleading look up at her father, Kurt. "Please don't let daddy do this. Please."
Kurt shook his head slowly. "Hush Evangeline. I don't like this anymore then you do." He grimaced. "Maybe if we go along with it, he'll lose interest sooner."
Evangeline groaned, and bowed her head in shame; refusing to look up at the people she passed by with her fathers.
"We hit Aerie first, they are having a sale, and have the cutest vintage selection," Blaine said decidedly. "And then we go to Victoria's Secret, because that's a classic. We might be able to pop in H & M too, if their selection isn't too gaudy."
Evangeline Anderson, age twelve, was going bra shopping with her dads. Both her and her father Kurt, the oldest of the couple, were rightly mortified at her other father Blaine, who seemed to have a fixation on buying her as much underwear, and humiliation, as possible.
It had all started yesterday, when Blaine had found an older, slightly beat up, white bra in their dirty laundry.
"Honey," Blaine had said, dangling the contraption from one of his fingers. "When did you start wearing these?"
Kurt looked up, and rolled his eyes at his husband. "That's not mine sweetheart. Obviously." He returned his attention to his book.
"Then whose is it?" Blaine asked, bewildered.
"Why don't you ask your daughter?" Kurt replied absent-mindedly, eyes moving across his page.
"But… but why would Evangeline need a bra?" Blaine started to sound panicked.
Kurt forced his eyes away from his book. "For a better reason then my needing a bra." He scoffed. "She is twelve now. She's starting to develop."
Blaine looked horrified. "How could she have bought a bra without telling us?"
"She didn't buy it." Kurt shrugged. "She got it as a hand me down from a friend."
"WHAT?"
The next day at breakfast, while Kurt and Evangeline were sitting at the table, eating cereal, Blaine had cleared his throat. "I hope you two don't have plans for today."
"I'm off work." Kurt said.
"I might meet some friends later." Evangeline piped up.
"Why?" Kurt drawled out, suddenly suspicious.
"Because." Blaine said proudly. "Today we are taking Evangeline bra shopping."
Kurt nearly chocked on his coffee, and Evangeline nearly spit her cereal all over their family's marble counter.
"Thank you daddy, but that's ok. Really." Evangeline said worriedly. "I already have one."
"I know." Blaine said seriously. "You got is as a hand me down. And no one who goes by the Anderson family name, is allowed to wear hand me downs."
Evangeline looks horror struck.
"And honestly honey, I'm embarrassed you didn't tell us you needed one! Just because I'm a male, doesn't mean I can't help you!" Blaine had cried passionately.
"Papa." Evangeline whispered meekly.
"I know sweetie, I know." Kurt muttered back.
"So it's been decided!" Blaine moaned, still in a passionate mood as he finished his speech. "We will go to the mall, and find my lovely daughter some wonderful underwear!"
Blaine's husband and daughter looked as if they would rather put a bullet through their heads.
So that's how the three ended up at the mall, Blaine boldly strolling at the front of the group, Kurt keeping a level-headed stride, and Evangeline shuffling in the back.
"Can't we just go to Walmart?" Evangeline called up, loudly enough for her father to hear, but not anyone else around her. "No one I know will be there."
"No." Blaine frowned. "No daughter of mine is wearing cheap underwear; it won't give you any style or proper support, even if Fruit Of The Loom gets decent reviews."
"I only wear an A cup." She replied meekly. "Papa…?"
"I know your father is ridiculous. But he's your father. He doesn't buy underwear that cost less then twenty-five dollars." Kurt stated flatly.
"Ah, here it is!" Blaine exclaimed happily, grabbing his daughter's hand and dragging her into Aerie, while Kurt followed mutely.
"Hello," a salesgirl said kindly. "Can I help you today?"
"Yes." Blaine nodded, pushing Evangeline in front of him. "Please help my daughter find a bra that you think would fit her properly, and also maybe have a nice print, or a color that would help her complexion be brightened."
Evangeline's face was so red, her complexion didn't need brightening.
"Of course." The salesgirl said, grabbing a blue push-up. "Right this way."
After five hours of insufferably bra shopping ("Please honey," Kurt had begged. "We have more then enough bras." Blaine ignored him), twenty-five different stores ("So may varieties!" Blaine exclaimed more then once), and several threats to make Blaine evacuate the store ("I'm gay," Blaine said. "I should be allowed back into the dressing rooms to see my only daughter try on her bras."), the Andersons returned home with six bags filled with every shape, size, style, and colors of bras Evangeline would ever need.
"Wasn't that great?" Blaine said excitedly. "That's been our best bonding experience so far!"
"Yeah," Evangeline collapsed on the family's coach. "Great."
"Just wait till you are picking out your wedding dress," Kurt said, sitting next to her. "Or when you are shopping for maternity clothes."
His daughter groaned, burying her head into his shoulder.
Kurt took a moment to look at the bags of bras on the floor. He moved his gaze to his husband, who still buzzing around the kitchen, and then looked at his daughter, his beautiful daughter, who was starting to doze off on his shoulder.
Yes, Kurt decided, his husband was a tad ridiculous, and yes, his daughter was starting to turn into an embarrassed teenager, but Kurt wouldn't have it any other way.
