There comes a moment in every senior's life when, on a chilly Saturday morning in November, one really doesn't want to be woken up in the early morning by a rapid knocking on one's front door.

The same could be said about Mercedes Jones. The self-proclaimed (and proven), diva slipped off her sleep mask with an irritated groan, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. Glancing over at her bedside table, she gave a low growl at the digital clock.

6:45.

She nearly cursed under her breath until her overly-sensitive ears caught the sound of her mother's voice, mixed with another, softer voice.

"Kurt Hummel, is that you?" Mrs. Jones asked, her voice excited. Then, she paused momentarily. "Where's your . . . sparkle?"

Kurt Hummel? No sparkle? Not even glittered lapels? Mercedes shot out of bed and immediately felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

"I know it's early . . . " Kurt began, his voice unsure.

"Ungodly hour," the older woman replied.

"And, I know I could've called, but I just really need to talk to Mercedes. Or, I could go home, and she can call me when she gets up. Or, I could wait here and make some pancakes for you. My mom had the best recipe."

Mercedes groaned. That boy never shut up.

Apparently, Mrs. Jones thought the same. "Now you march yourself into that room and wake that girl up. Pancakes later."

What did Blaine do?

Did they break up?

Who died?

Millions of questions flashed across Mercedes' mind and then, she thought, why was he coming to her? Neither had been the greatest of friends to each other, what with different Glee Clubs and Shane and Blaine.

After the countertenor gave a thank-you, Mercedes heard the soft footsteps leading to her bedroom. She got herself out of bed, opening the door for him.

"Hi," he half-whispered, surprised. And, for the first time since she didn't know when, Mercedes agreed with her mother. Kurt Hummel was not at all like himself. His hair looked like he hadn't even used his own hair products, and Mercedes then became worried even more than before. Yes, he was wearing his skinny jeans, as per usual; but the most frightening thing about his choice of clothing was the red and black sweatshirt that was a size too big.

"What are you wearing?" she demanded, choosing to skip the formalities. And, as if Kurt wasn't quite sure what he was wearing (and he always did), he looked down at his odd choice of raiment.

"Oh, it's Blaine's. You'd think with him being so short, he'd be a smaller size. Does that make him fat, or me thin?" the countertenor asked, speaking much too quickly, which he always did when he felt guilty about something.

Mercedes nodded, and for a split-second, she saw nothing wrong with this statement. Once this second passed, however, questions flooded her mind. Why was Kurt wearing Blaine's sweatshirt (which, in all reality, was quite reminiscent of the Dalton Academy uniform). Once Kurt turned around and unintentionally sported the name "Anderson" on the back of the jacket.

"Where were you just now?"

When the boy's eyes widened considerably, the diva knew that he was hiding something. "I was at home. Doing laundry."

"Mmmm-hmmm. Before that?"

"The highway."

"Keep going."

Kurt bit his lip. He was never that great of a liar, as his emotions always seemed to show on his childlike face. But now, Mercedes figured, this boy was going to fight the truth until he was blue in the face. "I was . . . at Blaine's."

Bingo.

"Is that why you two weren't at the after party?" she asked. Truthfully, she hadn't gone, either, but frequent texts from Brittany kept her updated. And, the blonde had texted, 'No unicorns.'

The countertenor nodded. "Blaine asked me, but I asked him if we could go to his house. I've never really been there."

"What did you two do while you were at Blaine's house?" Mercedes prodded. She folded her arms across her chest, lips pursing in a silent understanding. But she had to know from the direct source before freaking out.

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. "Well, we started kissing, and he's a really good kisses, not that I've ever kissed anyone else, but it was really good. And then, we were on the bed, and he has a really soft bed. His parents are rich. I swear, it was a mansion! It was actually kind of romantic. Only, there weren't any rose pet-"

"Get on with it," Mercedes groaned.

"Right. So, we started kissing even more passionately, and he started pulling off all my layers of clothing which, believe me, took longer than you would expect. And I was really nervous, but then his fingers were shaking, so I think that he was nervous, too."

The diva nodded, though she felt as if Blaine's fingers were shaking merely from excitement.

"And I said that I loved him-"

Mercedes grunted.

"He said that I was beautiful-"

She smiled slightly.

"And, while it was slightly uncomfortable, and I can't sit now, it was amazing, 'Cedes! I-I don't know, I thought of Finn in that weird boyfriend sort of way, but I don't think of Blaine that way. I just want to sit with him and have coffee and talk about all the things that we love. And I love him. He's just . . . so perfect. For me."

Seeing that look in Kurt's eyes, that hopelessly in love, dazed look, warmed Mercedes' heart. This would last, of course, until Blaine would somehow screw up (and she was quite certain that he would), and she would threaten to cut the former Warbler until he showed up on Kurt's front lawn (or fly to New York), begging for a second chance.

"Wait, you promised we'd coordinate our first times!" she teased, playfully shoving the boy in the shoulder.

"Okay, it would take a lot of self-restraint to keep from having sex with Blaine Anderson," Kurt countered.

The two laughed quietly, eventually sitting on the edge of her bed. They got to talking about Blaine and his oversized sweatshirt. "That thing is too big on you, boo," she giggled.

"Yeah, but I've never borrowed my boyfriend's clothes! That's so scandalous!" And, like that, Mercedes was pretty sure that the only thing on Kurt's mind was how movie-esque this was. "We're not going to have a passionate kiss in the rain after a heated argument, are we?" he asked. Then a gasp. "We already had a heated argument, and the only thing he did was walk away angrily."

"Did you cut him?"

Kurt laughed. "No, but I was really upset. I spent an entire day without talking to him once! And that's really hard when you're in the Glee Club!"

Mercedes nodded in agreement, giggling lightly until a thought occurred to her.

"If you two did it last night, why are you here now? You had to have left at, like, five in the morning!"

The countertenor raised his eyebrows slightly. "Yeah, his parents were supposed to be gone until the morning, and Blaine wanted to make sure that they didn't know what went on. They didn't know I was coming over, and I figured that Rachel and Finn had my house occupied."

While something about that seemed rather fishy, Mercedes decided not to act upon that inkling of a thought at the moment. Instead, she found it better to watch Kurt gush about how much love he was in with Blaine. And she let him chatter about his boyfriend until her mother walked in, asking what happened to those promised pancakes.

A.N.: Just a quickie I thought would be quite fitting. I obviously don't own GLEE, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this. I'd be having Chris Colfer and Amber Riley shooting this scene as we speak. Reviews and favorites are very much appreciated and welcome! Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed!