Circumstance and Luck, a glee fanfic

Circumstance and Luck

A/N: This was written as a part of the Glee Bang on livejournal. This is also a complete AU.

At twenty to ten, Dave Karofsky kicked up a booted foot to rest back against the brick and mortar building of the clinic he'd spent nearly ten hours at. He took a long, drawn out drag from his cigarette, and wiped at his forehead with his free hand. He was exhausted, nearly the point of double vision, and the single deli sandwich he'd had in the first half of his shift was a long and distant memory. Going home, turning up the heater against the chilly end of Autumn night, and climbing in bed, seemed the single greatest idea Dave cold imagine having.

And then he saw him. He saw them.

Dave took his breaks, unlike the rest of his coworkers who hoarded territory in the clinic's tiny break room, in the dingy alley that ran along the side of the building. Dave liked the free, open air, especially after hours of being cooped up. It was also the only place he could smoke. He was trying to quit, Quinn was on his ass about lung cancer and bronchitis and half a dozen other things, but when he stress levels built, Dave retreated to the alley to have a smoke. Sometimes he brought lunch with him, hopped up on a couple of boxes littered around and enjoyed himself, but mostly he sat around, smoked, and watched the people come and go. The alley provided an excellent vantage point of both the parking lot, and the bus stop directly in front of it.

Dave saw every type of person from his vantage spot. He saw the poorest of the poor and the sickest of the sickest. He saw mothers dragging their screaming children in by the arm, and the elderly scraping their way across the asphalt with a determined will to live. He'd become so good at people watching that Dave could see the truly desperate, and differentiate between the hardened, unhappy people, and the actual troublemakers. Dave had seem them all, treated them all and felt sorry for them all. Early into his stint at the clinic he'd tried to check his empathy at the door, most of the nurses and a good deal of the doctors did. Professional disinterest in anything but test results, that was the goal. But Dave had always been a little too sensitive to other people, even if he was exceptionally good at hiding it.

This man was different. Dave watched him step down from the bus, impossibly beautiful and fiercely determined. Tall and leggy and with a chin held high, he was exactly Dave's type. But there was something wrong, and it took Dave a moment to realize the determination on the man's face was overshadowed by a haggard fear. Dave supposed he would have been too, if his own child was laying limply against his chest like the man's appeared to be.

Dave snuffed out his cigarette as he continued to watch the man stride toward the door of the clinic. He was cutting it late. They close their doors at ten. Most of the doctors had already gone for the day, and Dave had left a still half full waiting room when he'd gone for his break. Dave wasn't confident the man would get in to see anyone tonight. There was a cutoff point, and no matter what Dave thought, rules were rules.

Still, there was something interesting about the man, beyond his appearance. Single mothers were all too common at the clinic, totting endless streams of children. But single fathers, men alone with children, were more rare. Fathers, at least in this part of the city, seemed to be an endangered species.

"Your break is over, numb nuts."

Dave tossed his cigarette butt into a nearby, open lidded trashcan. Then he gave a deep, lung clearing cough and told Santana, "I'm on my way. Don't get your balls all twisted."

Santana, a lusciously beautiful Latina, and the object of Dave's very bisexual urges for some time after starting at the clinic, grabbed her crotch lewdly and gave a pelvic thrust in his direction. Then she gave him the bird and headed back inside.

Dave laughed and followed after her.

So late into the end of his shift Dave set about cleaning up for the day. He rotated through his stock, took inventory, and began to sanitize his entire station. Dave shared a tiny cubical with Doctor Ray, a throat and nose specialist who worked three days a week and only with the clear intent of being able to cite it as her volunteer work. She was a bitch, in Dave's opinion, horrible with children, impatient with their older patients, and more concerned with keeping her appearance fresh, than fitting in another patient. She almost always bailed early. Dave couldn't remember the last time he hadn't pulled his full shift, and then some.

"Dave?"

Tina's head popped in and Dave gave her an honest smile. She was a little weird, he'd seen her once with fangs, but she was also caring and genuinely interested in helping people. She always said, the clinic held a special place in her heart. It was where she'd met her fiancé. And, if Dave wanted to believe the stories, and he really, really didn't, because gross, it was also where they'd conceived their child. Looking now, as he asked, "Yeah, Tina? What can I do for you?" he could see her bump, swelling gently and making her glow.

"I know you just got your last break, and you should have gotten it earlier, and I know it's the end of the night, and you're right in the middle of cleaning up, but-"

"Tina." Dave took a deep breath and mirrored for her to follow his example. "Who's left?"

Tina smiled appreciatively. "I turned away the ones that I could, but I couldn't bear to send this guy away, Dave. Not with his baby."

Oh. The man from earlier.

"Isn't Miller still here?" Dave asked. "He's the pediatrician around here."

Tina's soft looking hand cupped her stomach. "Miller just left, maybe five minutes ago. Plus, I think this guy, he's just a worried, new father. I've seen my fair share of sick babies, and this little guy just looks like he's got the sniffles. I bet you anything his father just needs some reassurance, and you can give that to him. Will you?"

Dave found himself nodding. The sniffles, especially in you babies, were never just simple, not like Tina said, but Dave understood her well enough. They got new parents in the clinic all the time, most of them fraught with worry over completely harmless things. Then again, Dave had seen the most innocuous of coughs become pneumonia.

"Send him on in, Tina." Dave set the tools he'd been sterilizing to the side. "I can fit a kid in. Any day, any time."

Tina smothered a laugh, then said, "You'll like his dad, too."

"Hm?" Dave's eyebrows were high.

Tina turned to leave, but called over her shoulder, "No wedding ring."

The first thing Dave decided, once he had Kurt Hummel in his bashfully small examination room, was that he wasn't just breathtakingly beautiful, he was … well, for a few moments Dave struggled to find the right words to describe him. Nothing seemed good enough.

"He started coughing his morning," Kurt said, rubbing a hand along the baby's back. The child, a young boy, rested limply against his father, and was quiet. Mostly Dave saw screaming children, or the ones that yelled and fought and bit. Dave really didn't like the ones that bit. But in all truth, the ones that were quiet, they scared Dave more than anything else in the world. "He's warm, and won't eat anything, and I'm really worried. He's never been like this before."

Dave took stock of the baby, and asked, "How old is he?" Dave looked for the resemblance in them, but it was hard to find. Kurt was porcelain, all white and creamy and delicate. The baby, who Kurt told him was six months, was darker, a bit more tan, and with angled features. Kurt's hair was brown, coifed, but straight, and the baby's was much darker, and very curly. Neither were their eyes a match, the baby's a striking hazel, and Kurt's a wonderful cross between green and blue.

"Do you mind if I take a look at him?" Dave asked. He waited patiently for Kurt's to be ready to give the baby to him.

"I know," Kurt rambled a bit, "that it's not unheard of for babies to run their course with natural fevers, but LB had never had one like this before. I tried everything to break it. My parents gave me all these natural remedies, but nothing worked. Please, can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Mr. Hummel," Dave said, voice a bit scratchy, "just calm down. I'm going to take care of you."

Kurt startled, turning a bit red, and Dave's eyes widened. "I meant, of course, that I'm going to take care of your son. Nothing to worry about. I have a lot of experience with babies."

The baby, LB, if Dave had heard Kurt correctly, have a small sniffle and Dave looked fondly down at him.

"Kurt."

"Huh?"

"Call me Kurt," Kurt insisted. "And thank you."

Dave balanced the baby expertly as he reached for his stethoscope. "I'm Dave. Dave Karofsky." And, Dave noted quickly as Kurt's attention turned back to the baby after a startled sneeze, Tina had been right, there was no wedding ring. There was, however, a curious tan line where it obviously had been. And a skin indentation. Both were evidence that Kurt had worn a wedding ring for quite some time, likely for years. Dave wondered if he was dealing with a widower or a divorcee.

Dave checked the baby over a thoroughly as he could. The clock on the far wall said his shift had been over for five minutes now, but there was something sweet and compelling about the father son pair. Kurt watched anxiously, but with clear hope, and the baby grinned sweetly at him from where he lay in Dave's arms.

"So," Dave said, shifting forward on his stool a bit, "his lungs are clear, which is a great sign. There isn't any inflammation, his reflexes are good, and I'd say, with confidence, that what we have here is a simple cold. And Kurt, it's a good thing."

Kurt's fingers were long, and Dave watched them as they stroked the baby's soft, rosy cheeks. "A good thing?"

"A good thing," Dave insisted. "We're building up his immune system right now. This isn't anything he can't handle. He's completely tired out, and he may have lost his appetite, but I bet in forty-eight hours this will all be a distant memory. And chances are, when he beats this thing off, he won't catch it again for a while, and he'll be much better equipped to deal with other colds that come his way."

All babies, in Dave's opinion, had something called a sweet spot. It was different for each one, though there were popular locations, and Dave's personal mission was to find each other. LB's, and Dave really wanted to know what that stood for, was located at the back of his right knee. When Dave hit that spot the baby's eyes came to life, he squirmed, and then he giggled.

"There you are," Dave laughed along with him. "I knew I'd find it." When Dave looked up from the baby he could only see Kurt, head tilted a little bit, a wide smile stretching across his face. The anxiety from only moments earlier seemed to have melted away, and Dave was left with how he knew Kurt was always supposed to look, carefree and content and beautiful. "What?"

"You're really good with him." Kurt tapped fingers against his crossed knee. "Granted, LB is good with most people, he's always been, but he's really taking a shine to you. I think he can sense you're taking care of him. Or maybe he just likes your hands."

Dave looked down. "My hands?"

Once more, Kurt was flush. "They're big. You … you can hold LB very securely. I know he likes that. Big hands are warm and they're his favorite kind." Kurt paused for a moment, then pushed his fingers through his hair and said, "I realize how that just sounded."

Dave handed the baby over. "It's late. You look tired. I bet you've been fussing over him the whole day."

Wordlessly, Kurt nodded. LB's fingers curled into Kurt's shirt and Dave watched them together, father and son, silent in their bond.

Strangely enough, as they sat in silence, there was no awkwardness between them. Dave had expected at least some, but the tension in the room was light, barely there, and Dave realized he was more content to sit there, and watch Kurt coo over his son, than he'd been with anything else in a long time. There was, he was absolutely convinced, something very special about Kurt. Something infinitely attractive. Something that pulled at his heart and refused to let go.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Kurt. I'm going to write down a couple of things you can pick up for him at your local pharmacy, no prescription needed. But for right now, I think you should go home, put him down for the night, and get some rest yourself. He may be quiet now, but I've got the feeling he's an active guy."

Resting the baby against his shoulder, Kurt smiled warmly. "He's crawling all over the place. We live on the top floor of our building. The apartment has access to the roof. Baby proofing has been a nightmare. But you're right, I am tired. I don't think I've had a proper night's sleep in a while. LB isn't fussy by any means, but he doesn't like to sleep through the night for some reason."

Delicately, Dave asked, "Isn't there anyone else? A wife? Girlfriend?"

Kurt scoffed, making Dave freeze, and one eyebrow arched. Kurt asked, "Mr. Karofsky-"

"Dave."

Kurt nodded, then amended, "Dave, I know you're trying to be delicate here, but do I really look the type to have a girlfriend? Do I look as if I'd be interested in the fairer sex at all?"

Honestly, no. Dave had pegged him as gay from the very start. Kurt was the obvious type, delicate looking, with a gentle nature, high pitched voice, and feminine qualities that Dave found attractive on either gender. But babies didn't come into being by themselves, and Dave had yet to find a pair of men who could do it without a female influence. LB took after Kurt in very few ways, and that meant to Dave, at least with his obviously spectacular detective skills, that there was a woman in Kurt's life somewhere. Someone had helped make LB, and it was only fair that she shoulder some of the burden.

Dave shook his head. "I just thought I'd … I was only curious."

"I'm not offended," Kurt offered. "As for LB's mother, she's not in the picture. She won't ever be. It's just us. Myself and LB. And I don't want you thinking I can't do it. I'm very capable. LB isn't too much for me. I'm doing just fine."

Dave nearly leapt up to his feet. "I never said … Kurt …"

Kurt sighed. "I didn't mean to go off on you. I apologize. Can I have the list of baby approved medicine I can pick up?"

Dave's hand shook slightly as he wrote out a well known medications. "You should be able to find these anywhere."

"Thank you," Kurt told him quietly, "Doctor Karofsky."

"Nurse." Dave beamed a bit, handing the slip of paper over.

"Excuse me?"

Dave let his hand rest briefly on LB's head. The baby was moments away from sleep, drifting in an out, still feverish, but working his way through it. "Nurse Karofsky. We've only got a couple of doctors around here, I can't imagine why more highly skilled and extensively educated specialists don't want to work in an inner city free clinic."

"Nurse?" Kurt broke into a grin. "You're a nurse?"

"Just call me Florence Nightingale."

Kurt regarded him for a moment, then said, "I prefer Nurse Karofsky."

Dave hedged carefully, "So you're not upset they gave you to a lowly nurse, and not a big brass doctor?"

Kurt shrugged, balancing the baby as he lifted up the baby bag and swung it up on his shoulder. "Why would I be? You can do the job just as well as any doctor, right? You took care of LB. You kept me from freaking out. That says enough right there. Plus, my stepmother is a nurse. I know exactly how important nurses are to the field of medicine. The doctors get all the credit, but I think a lot of people would be surprised to know it's the nurses who pull a lot of the weight."

Dave wondered if he was sort of in love a bit.

"So," Kurt continued, "thank you. For … for everything."

Startled by the idea that Kurt was leaving, and he'd be gone forever from Dave's life, he rushed to say, "I think you should come back in."

A flash of panic crossed Kurt's face. "I thought you said he'd be okay?"

Dave nodded, swallowing hard. "A follow up. I want to check up on him. I like to, with my younger patients. You should come back in a couple of days. Just to be safe. Just to be sure."

Slowly, Kurt tipped his head. "Okay. To be safe. I can come back on Wednesday?"

"Thursday," Dave insisted. Foolishly, he reached out and brushed a bit of Kurt's hair back. "I'm up at the main hospital on Wednesday. I'll be here on Thursday."

Kurt smiled bashfully. "Thursday, then. I'll, well, I guess I'll see you then."

There were tools that still needed to be sterilized, things that had to be put away, and half a dozen other things that Dave knew were his responsibility, but regardless, he found himself asking, "Can I walk you two out?" Kurt had come in on the bus, he remembered, the number ninety-two, which put him in a less than prestigious part of town, but one that Dave knew had the best family owned restaurants, and the closest communities. There were more dangerous parts of town, but also safer ones.

Kurt went pale, and seemed to close off before Dave's eyes. "No," the shorter male said, tone clipped. "We're fine. We're just … I'm going to leave now, okay? I need to go."

Dave shook his head. "It's past ten. I've worked here long enough to know there are a bunch of little punks that live around here and like to pick on easy targets."

"So you think I'm an easy target?" Kurt's eyes narrowed. "Why? Because of the way I look? The way I sound?"

"Because of this." Dave brushed his fingers through LB's curly hair. "Because you have a baby, and you're tired and it's not a personal attack. A liability is a liability. It doesn't mean you're weak, it just means some asshole is going to want to prey on you."

Kurt shifted on his feet. "I'm sorry. I am tired. I'm just going to go now."

Dave opened the door for him, and he could see the hallway deserted. Most everyone had gone home by now. "Just be careful, alright? We wouldn't want anything to happen, right?"

"Right," Kurt agreed. Then, with a lingering, final look, he was gone. Minutes after he left, Dave could still smell the lightly fragrant smell that had been all over Kurt.

"What are you doing?"

"Puck," Dave said simply, barely glancing at the tan man. Dave had promised himself he wouldn't trail out after Kurt, at least not into the parking lot. And instead he found himself in the waiting room, peering out through the blinds. From his position he could see Kurt, huddled down in his coat, tucked around LB as they waited in the cold for the last bus of the night. "You see this guy?"

Noah Puckerman moved to Dave's side. "I saw him earlier. Sex on legs."

Dave glanced at him. "Since when are you sexually ambiguous?"

Puck scoffed. "Since the day I wanked it. Sex is sex."

Dave couldn't say he was surprised. Dave had known Puck for what felt like forever, and in that time he'd seen the young man hit on more women that Dave had in his entire life. It seemed that Puck's preferences had been towards women exclusively, but then there was a lot Dave didn't know about him.

"His name is Kurt Hummel. He's got a son. Do me a favor and I'll do one for you."

"Hummel," Puck repeated, memorizing the name. "What kind of favor?"

It was too could out there, Dave decided. It wasn't winter yet, but the temperature fell quickly at night. They'd have their first snow of the season before the month was done, and sooner, rather than later, Dave would have to break out his parka. It was certainly too cold for a baby, especially with a cold. Dave could see his car, parked within eyesight, with a perfectly functioning heater. What would take Kurt half an hour on the bus, Dave was sure he could drive in ten minutes, maybe less.

"Karofsky?"

Dave cleared his throat. "How many hours do you need?"

"Total?" Puck asked. "A hundred. I figure I'll be here from now until the end of the world."

"And you spend three hours a day here?"

"Scrubbing toilets." Puck made a face. "I dated this chick once, all prim and proper and shit, and all she did was bitch about how I peed all over the floor." Puck smacked Dave on the bicep. "If a woman ever tries to tell you she doesn't pee on the floor, call her on her bullshit. I scrub more pee off the floor of the woman's bathroom, than the men's. And sometimes it's not just pee."

Dave thought he saw Kurt shiver. "Doctor Schue is busy with reviews right now. He might be for a while, months, even. And when he's that busy, a lot of the paperwork falls to me. I might even come in contact with your papers, Puckerman. Doctor Schue puts a lot of faith in me. My signature is representative of his when he's knee deep in reviews and our latest funding crisis."

Puck pulled a slat down on the blinds of the window. "Hummel is your boy?"

"No," Dave said right away. "But if anyone tries to mess with him, I want you to take care of it. He gets out of here safe and sound. Understand? There are too many idiots lurking around here, waiting for someone who's preoccupied and doesn't notice them. Kurt's that guy. He's preoccupied."

"I don't just get my sentence extended if I get in trouble with the law," Puck said. "I get jail time."

"No one is going to call the cops on you here, Puckerman."

The bus came into view and Dave breathed a sigh of relief. He watched Kurt clamber up the steep steps and didn't move until the bus was down the street, Kurt and LB safely on it.

"I'll take care of it," Puck said. "I've got your boy."

Dave meant to say once more that Kurt wasn't his boy, but it sounded to o good when Puck said it. And Dave thought, for one impossible second, that he'd work on it.

It was of Dave's opinion, one that he'd formulated years ago, that he'd probably need to spend the rest of his life doing good, to make up for the bad karma he'd inflicted on himself during his teenage years. It was why he'd gone to nursing school. It explained away his parents and his stagnate inheritance, and each and every thing that could have been a way to further being a tool. Dave was determined to make up for the stupidity of his teenage years.

At first, the clinic had been enough. But then Dave had started to like the long hours. He liked the commute in the morning, having to get up extra early to pull a shift at the hospital, and then a double at the clinic. He liked the screaming kids and the broken air conditioner and the drug addicts lurking in nearby dark allies. He liked everything about the clinic, including the stale coffee and the fact that there was never enough time to see everyone, never enough supplies or medication or kindness. He liked being able to fill a void, and make a difference, and change all of it.

And he'd probably gone and screwed himself over by liking it. Dave was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to like his penance. That wasn't how penance worked, right? Dave wasn't completely sure, none of his other friends were, either. And most of them thought he was crazy.

He added a soup kitchen every Sunday afternoon, the battered women's shelter every other week, and mentored at the Big Sisters Big Brothers foundation at least once a month.

And then there was Mrs. Fischer. Dave supposed she'd done a lot of good karma in her early years. That had to be the case. It was the only reason why he thought she was so comfortable yelling at people, causing a ruckus, and being a pain in everyone's ass. She was cantankerous and disruptive and honestly, Dave didn't like her at all. He really couldn't stand her. But she had a bum hip, osteoporosis, glaucoma of the eyes, and was deaf in one ear. She talked to him like she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be around, not that she seemed upset about it at all, and that was why Dave picked up fresh produce for her when the local farmer's market came around. She liked blueberries. They were her favorite. Dave got her a basket's worth at every opportunity.

He was out on Tuesday morning with the sole purpose of picking her up a basket or two when he saw Kurt.

Of course he saw Kurt. It had been two days since their meeting at the clinic, and Dave had barely had time to think about the intoxicatingly beautiful man. But every spare moment he had had, Kurt had been on his mind. Dave still remembered the way he smiled, coy but strong, and the way he smelled. Dave remembered what he'd been wearing, the way his hair had been coifed, how Kurt had held his chin high, even as scared as he'd been. In fact it seemed the only time Dave escaped Kurt was when he went to bed, or when he was swamped at work with no room for distraction.

Therefore, and because Dave reminded himself he'd been a total prick in high school, karma came around to bite him in the ass some more, and Dave saw Kurt not more than fifty feet ahead of him.

It wasn't like Dave hadn't expected him to look any less impeccable now, than he had at the clinic. Through the dozens of people standing between them, Dave could see Kurt's taunt, lean legs, encased in tight jeans. Dave's eyes traveled further up, bypassing Kurt's narrow waist to settle appreciatively on sloping shoulders highlighted by the cream colored button down Kurt wore. But this time Kurt's hair was different, parted to the side in a more natural style, and obviously with less product in it.

Then Kurt turned, haggling with a vender over something, and Dave could see the baby harness Kurt wore, and a happily held LB. The baby looked a million times better, his color returned and a bright smile on his face. His hands were waving madly, feet kicking, and Dave thought that it was how LB should have always looked. Healthy.

And, as luck would have it, there were blueberries right next to Kurt. Dave made his move. LB, of all people, gave him away.

"Nurse Karofsky," Kurt said, a hint of a tease in his tone. "I'm surprised."

LB wiggled even more ferociously, squealing happily.

Dave frowned. "He remembers me?"

Kurt caught one of the baby's tiny, shoe covered feet, and held it as it came dangerously close to hitting Dave. "I guess so. He does sound happy to see you. It's the loudest he's been all day." Kurt let the foot go, and leaned to press a kiss to his son's head. "Between you and me, LB doesn't really get worked up over much. Good or bad."

Dave pressed the back of his hand to LB's forehead. "He feels great. I take it he's back in fighting form?"

"Absolutely perfect," Kurt said, bouncing a little on his feet. "In fact, he seems completely back to normal. It was why we decided to come out for a little fresh air. It was a bit of a ride to get here, but well worth it. We're going to get some fresh fruit. LB loves fresh fruit."

Dave thought his mouth might split open. He couldn't help the size of the grin on his face as he listened to Kurt. Kurt might have been talking to him, but most, if not all of his attention was on LB.

"What?"

Dave startled a little. "Huh?"

Kurt looked up from LB. "You're starting at me. Do I have something on my face?"

LB blew a spit bubble.

"No." Dave smiled brighter. "You just … I like watching you with him. Does that sound creepy?" Dave laughed. "What I mean is, I can see how much you love him."

Kurt's mouth set in a firm line. "He's my world."

Dave nodded solemnly.

LB stretched out for Dave, drool dribbling down his chin even as Kurt retrieved a pocket square and wiped at it.

"He really likes you," Kurt observed. He hesitated for a moment, then took a step even closer. It was near enough for one of LB's chubby hands to reach out and snatch the loose fabric of Dave's shirt. "He must know what you did for him."

Dave brushed a hand across the back of his head. "I did what anyone would have done. He was sick. I just checked him over."

Kurt shook his head, but remained wordless.

"So," Dave said finally, breaking their silence. "Are the two of you just out to get some fruit, or do you have other plans?"

Dave hoped he was doing it right. Truth be told, he hadn't asked anyone out in years. He'd had a few quickies, and one long term relationship before those, but not much in the way of romance. Dave knew how it was done. He knew how to wine and dine … technically. The more practical aspect had his heart pumping and his palms sweating.

Kurt hitched LB up a little, not dislodging his son's hold on Dave's shirt, then said, "We were only going to pick up a few things. It's pretty hard to hold a baby, all the things he needs to go out, and a lot of groceries. I guess you could say we're here for the scenery, and the people, more than anything else. We've kept to ourselves for a while, and we agreed, it's time we saw the city."

"You're new to the city, then?" Dave asked. He brought one finger up to LB's line of sight and let the baby's hand leave his shirt, and curl around the finger instead.

"About two weeks now," Kurt revealed.

Dave thumbed at the blueberries. "I need to pick up a few baskets. I promised a friend that I would. She only lives about a block away, but she can't really leave her apartment. But, if you stick around and go with me, I'd be willing to treat you and the little guy to an early lunch for you effort." It was going out on a limb, and Dave was certain his heart skipped a beat as Kurt looked physically uneasy with the idea. "Or a late breakfast? Whichever you prefer?"

"Dave," Kurt said softly.

Acting on impulse, Dave let his free hand come up to the baby harness, and then to Kurt's wrist. It felt delicate under Dave's hand, a seemingly match to the image Kurt gave off. But something told Dave there was more than just fragility. Something nagged at him, and told him not to underestimate Kurt.

"Just," Dave sighed out, "let me buy my blueberries. And then come with me. I don't know what kind of food you like, but there are a lot of choices down here. I'll let you pick. Whatever you want, and we'll make sure it's a baby friendly place."

Quietly, Kurt said, "You don't even know me. I'm just this guy you met two days ago."

The sun hit just perfectly, and Kurt sort of looked like he was glowing. Dave wondered if this was what it felt like to be infatuated.

"That's the point of going to get something to eat. To talk. To get to know each other."

Dave could feel Kurt slipping away, retreating back, hesitant for a reason that Dave couldn't begin to dig at.

"I don't know you," Kurt pointed out. "How do I know you're one of the good guys?"

"Nurse." Dave pointed a finger at his own chest.

Kurt's hands went to his hips and he jutted them to the side. "I call myself a philanthropist, but really I'm just a bum. Titles are just words, Dave. A title or occupation can't tell me if you …"

"Would hurt you?" Dave asked, voice low. When Kurt was silent, Dave took it as conformation, which chilled him to the bone. Someone had hurt Kurt. Someone had made him wary.

LB smashed Dave's finger into his mouth and started gnawing on it.

"Hey!" Dave called out. "You've got teeth, buddy."

"A couple," Kurt laughed. "He was born with one, actually. And a couple others have come in recently. He's not teething, not completely, and I guess I should think of that as a good thing. No one wants to see their child in pain."

Dave realized he was still holding Kurt's wrist with one hand. Neither of them had made to pull away, and the action seemed forgotten by both parties. Dave squeezed gently, then let his hand fall away.

"Look," Dave said, "I've got great credentials. Ask any of my friends. I'm a grade A catch."

"Your friends?" Kurt arched an eyebrow. "I'm sure they'll be very objective."

When LB gave a high pitched squeal, Dave said, "Take a chance, Kurt Hummel. I promise, I'll take you to a well lit area, with lots of people around. I'll pay, and you don't have to tell me anything about you, or your mysterious background."

Kurt pursed his lips, then asked, "Blueberries."

Dave felt smitten. "They're in season."

Mrs. Fischer yelled at them as they dropped off the blueberries to her apartment. She called them hooligans. She said they were disrespectful ruffians. She shook her cane at them. But Kurt giggled, his tongue stained blue from the berries he'd tested, and LB had looked on curiously and silently as the whole thing went down.

"She never gets any nicer," Dave said honestly, leading Kurt down to the street below. He risked letting his fingers brush at the small of Kurt's back, and when the younger man didn't protest the touch, Dave was more confident. He applied pressure.

Kurt picked a café, ordered his coffee Americano, had a half Panini of ham and melted cheddar cheese, and a green salad with dressing on the side. Kurt held his fork and knife properly as he ate, had one leg crossed over the other, and laid his cloth napkin on his lap. Dave felt like a brute sitting across from him, digging into his overpriced burger. LB sucked happily on his bottle, fingers banging rhythmically on the table.

"Why did you become a nurse?" Kurt asked. "I told you, I appreciate the diligence of the profession, but doubt most parents want their children to become doctors." Kurt added carefully, "Neither are you a stereotypical nurse."

"I look good in nylon," Dave protested, chewing through a bite.

"No, really," Kurt pressed. "Why nursing? You're very good at it."

"I got out of high school," Dave said with a shrug, "and didn't know what to do with myself. I came from this shitty, podunk town."

Kurt hushed him at the curse, eyes flittering towards LB who couldn't have been paying less attention to them.

Dave cleared his throat. "I guess you could say I wasn't the nicest kid in high school. I did some questionable things. I wanted to make amends after it all came full circle. Honestly, I decided to enroll at the local community college at the last second. The only classes that were open were health related. I took a couple, and then I couldn't get enough. I don't like blood, Kurt. I don't want to cut people open, and I don't want to be the one to tell them their tests came back positive, or they're dying. I just want to give people a little bit of comfort, and help out where I can."

"And your parents were okay with your choices?" Kurt sipped his coffee.

"My mom died years ago, before I graduated high school."

Kurt set his fork and knife down. He reached across their tiny table to settle one soft, slightly cold hand over Dave's. "My mother died when I was young, too."

Dave turned his palm up, catching Kurt's fingers. "She would have approved. And my dad, I guess he was just glad I was doing something with my life. When she died, he wasted away. He wanted big things for me, even if he didn't want them for himself anymore."

Kurt smiled at him. "He sound like a good father."

Finishing his burger off in several more bites, Dave said, "He is. Now, you obviously know about me. Tell me something about you. What do you do for a living?"

Kurt teased, "I thought you said you weren't going to ask me any questions. I've very mysterious, remember?"

Dave guessed, "You're obviously an accountant. I could see it a mile away. I bet you have post-its all over your cubical in neurotic, perfectly symmetrical patterns. And they're all relevant to each other."

LB hiccupped suddenly and Kurt as poised with a napkin. The baby wavered for moment, then returned to his bottle, once against distracted by the people around him.

"Believe it or not," Kurt said, offering Dave a flirtatious wink, "I went to college for fashion design. I had it all worked out, I was going to be the next McQueen. But there was this stupid elective class I had to take, art appreciation." Kurt's chin settled into his palm and he said a bit dreamily, "Blaine was in that class. He sat right next to me, second chair in the third row, with a stupid purple sketch pad that he let his younger sister decorate. Stars and hearts and a unicorn. He had Mr. Blaine Anderson-Harris written in the corner." Kurt gave a low chuckle and rubbed his fingers through LB's hair adoringly. "He was so convinced he was going to marry Neal Patrick Harris."

Dave cleared his throat. "Kurt?"

Kurt looked up suddenly, almost surprised to see Dave there. He paused for a moment, then said, "Our final project was to paint a portrait of ourselves. Not … not like when you look in the mirror. Not what you see when you see your reflection. We were supposed to paint a picture of ourselves as we want to be seen. As we want others to see us, actually."

"What did you paint?" Dave took a long drink of his soda. He wanted to ask who Blaine Anderson was. But he didn't dare.

"It was horrible!" Kurt confessed. "I painted something that can only be best described as abstract. I was terribly in love by that point, and it ended up looking like the Pride Parade vomited up on cupid. I guess I wanted other people to see that I was in love, because it defined me at the time. I wanted them to look at me and see love. I think most of them just saw a headache."

"But it was abstract," Dave said kindly. "So really, it's not like you could have painted anything wrong."

"I got a B on it," Kurt said bluntly.

Dave did his best not to laugh.

"But!" Kurt held up a finger. "I really loved it. I loved painting. It made me feel free. There were no limits, and no boundaries. I loved it more than I had thought possible."

"Oh," Dave said, "you paint."

"I paint." Kurt nodded. "I've sold some work, but my paintings are obviously for a select clientele."

Dave said smugly, "I have a Rembrandt knockoff in my bathroom."

Kurt bent to retrieve a soft towel from LB's baby bag. He draped it over his shoulder expertly and then lifted the baby from his chair. He gave two, quick pats the back of his son's small back and soon after the baby was hiccupping, then burping. "That's very posh of you, Dave. In your bathroom."

"How did you know?" Dave asked, watching Kurt burp the baby. "How did you know it was time?"

"You have a baby," Kurt breathed out, like he was imparting the most wise words Dave would ever hear in his life, "and everything changes. You become in tune with every thing about them. They become your world. And you stat to pick up on the smallest nuances. LB fidgets when it's going to come up. Once you see it, you know it."

Their meal was almost done and all he could think about was how Kurt would leave him. Dave had waited patiently, earlier in the day, while Kurt perused through the fruit stands. It would be too cold for the more delicate fruits very soon, but for the moment, there was a lot to choose from. Hand tight around his own bag of blueberries, Dave had watched Kurt select on the best raspberries, the freshest strawberries, and one cantaloupe that he fussed over for minutes before deciding on.

Kurt would want to get home soon and put the fruit away. Kurt seemed like the kind of person who didn't like his fruit bruised.

But Dave had more questions, important ones, and as Kurt continued to burp LB, Dave asked, "What brought you to the city?"

LB shifted, and Dave could barely see Kurt's face as he said, "We needed to get away."

The bill came and Dave expertly stole it. "I had no idea the life of a painter was so stressful. To have to get away from it?"

They were on different wave lengths, suddenly. Dave felt it as he paid the bill. They weren't talking about the same thing, and if he was confused, Kurt was disappointed.

"Sometimes," Kurt said in a careful tone, "getting away from it all is the most you can do."

They left the café fifteen minutes later. Dave used a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and turned to Kurt. "I have a car. Do you mind if I drove the two of you home?"

"My father always taught me never to get into the cars of strangers."

"I'm hardly a stranger," Dave boasted. "You know more about me than most of my friends, but that's probably just because they're pretentious, self centered and shallow."

"Your friends?" Kurt asked. "You talk about your friends like that?"

Dave settled his hand back on the small of Kurt's back and watched as LB began to nod off, his head dropping fully onto Kurt's shoulder. "Not my clinic ones. Don't get me wrong, not everyone at the clinic is there for a good cause, but a lot of them are. There are a lot of good people who work there. I'm talking about my friends at the hospital. Just … just trust me on this. There's a difference, and it has absolutely everything to do with what makes the two places different. So, are you going to let me drive you home, or not?"

"Alright," Kurt said.

The pressure of Dave's hand was a bit heavier after that.

"Don't judge it," Kurt said snappishly when Dave parked and they were standing in front of Kurt's building. Like Dave had suspected, it wasn't in the best part of town, but he was pleased to see that the streets were predominantly clean, and there were only a couple of unsavory characters lurking around. "I didn't choose it for the location, or for what the building looks like."

"Okay." Sometime during it all, Dave had ended up with LB's baby bag slung over his shoulder, and Kurt's bags of fruits in his hands. It was all fine with Dave, but he wondered if Kurt noticed.

They took the elevator all the way up to the ninth floor, as high as it would go, and Dave tried not to be bothered by the sound of the elevator straining under their weight, or the way it shook, lights flickering a little.

"Sometimes I just take the stairs," Kurt confessed.

Kurt had the only apartment on the ninth floor, and the design seemed odd to Dave for a moment until Kurt opened his front door.

"Wow," Dave breathed out. "You've got an amazing view.

"You can come in." Kurt pushed the door open, large enough for Dave to squeeze in, and then shut it firmly behind him. "If you could drop the fruit off in the kitchen, that would be lovely. I'm going to go put LB down in his nursery.

Dave thought he could see his own apartment from Kurt's. With the fruit firmly in the kitchen, Dave moved through Kurt's apartment. Half the floor was normal, Dave could see a living room, had been to the kitchen, and knew that hall that Kurt had disappeared down likely branched off into at least two bedrooms. But the other half of the apartment was all balcony, a good deal of it shaded, but a lot of it left open. Dave pressed up against the glass that separated the balcony from the apartment and the balcony.

"I needed a place that I could paint, one that wasn't so enclosed. I couldn't risk the baby and the pain fumes."

Kurt stood suddenly behind him, and Dave could see where Kurt pointed out some of his painting supplies.

"I like to go out in the afternoon, when it's still warm enough, and be inspired by what I see. I even created a little place for LB, mostly to keep him from getting bored."

Dave followed Kurt's finger. There was a playpen under the balcony's cover, and a good deal of baby paraphernalia spread out. Dave could imagine Kurt in the warm sun, sleeves rolled up, painting out his emotions. He'd be barefoot, and there would be splashes of color on his clothes, the ones that were specially intended for painting. Kurt would never wear a smock.

It was all oddly erotic to think about.

Dave turned to Kurt and brushed some of Kurt's hair back. "I bet you're amazing when you paint. Total in a zone."

Kurt swallowed hard. Dave could see his throat moving. "It's an amazing feeling."

"You should paint for me some time," Dave said quietly. "I'll keep LB busy, and after, we'll tell you about how brilliant you are."

Kurt blinked up at him, eyes wide, almost in disbelief. "You …"

God, Dave wanted to kiss him so badly. He wanted to grab Kurt by the arms and kiss him with a maddening need. Dave had never felt this. He'd never felt such a need.

Kurt's fingers brushed against Dave's. "LB mostly sleeps when I bring him out. He's young, and he likes the warmth of the afternoon."

"Oh?"

He couldn't help himself. Dave couldn't. Kurt was there, next to him, touching him, and Dave couldn't help himself. He just really, really hoped that his karma held off for once, and that Kurt's knee didn't find its way inexplicably to his nuts.

Dave's hand caught the back of Kurt's neck and he dragged the shorter man into a breathless kiss. He wrapped the other of his hands around Kurt's jutting hip. He squeezed hard, and he waited for Kurt to respond.

Kurt was a spitfire. That was Dave's understanding of the moment. Because he knew what hands in his pants felt like, and that was most certainly a tongue meeting his own. Kurt was more than responding, Kurt was … Dave stopped thinking.

"LB," Kurt said, voice ragged as he worked down Dave's zipper. "He's asleep. Don't wake him."

Dave yanked Kurt's shirt over his head, his hand slipping from around the back of his neck to rest at Kurt's neck, working his mouth open wider.

Kurt was breathing hard as he said, "I don't normally do this."

But the tension between them, the attraction, it was so unlike anything Dave had felt before. He knew Kurt felt the same. They were drawn to each other, pulled by a force that didn't make any sense.

"You don't have to," Dave tried to say as Kurt sank to his knees. "I can … we can …"

Kurt took Dave in his mouth, throat relaxing, hands settling on powerful thighs.

"Oh god!" Dave jerked forward a bit, and that bought him a snap of Kurt's teeth, not strong enough to do more than hurt a bit. But it was a warning and Dave rested his hands gently on the top of Kurt's head. "God, Kurt. You're … you're so …"

Then they were on the floor. Kurt pulled off with a deep breath and Dave held firm, refusing to let him back down. "Don't," he said warningly, pulling at Kurt's pants. "This isn't just about me."

"I want to."

Kurt's lips were wet, shinny with a gloss that Dave thumbed at. "Let me, okay?"

Dave laid him down on the floor, cushioning the back of Kurt's head as it fell back on the hardwood surface. He stripped Kurt of his pants in one motion and kicked himself free of his own.

"Dave," Kurt mumbled, legs spreading as Dave settled in between them.

"Is this okay?" Dave asked, hitching Kurt up closer, feeling legs lock around his waist.

Kurt nodded silently, and Dave thrust forward.

The floor was thick, and Dave couldn't get the proper traction to really make his movement count, but it seemed enough. Kurt moaned below him, pawing at Dave's shoulders, kissing him as he could, meeting Dave with every push.

"I want …" Dave gasped out, trying to press harder, wondering what it would feel like to actually be in Kurt, instead of just jutting against him like a horny teenager, "I wanted you so bad, from the very beginning. You were … so beautiful."

Kurt laughed loudly, pupil blown. "You already have me." Kurt's back arched. "I'm here, we're … we're … you don't have to say those things."

Dave growled into his ear, "Maybe I want to. Maybe they're exactly how I feel."

Kurt felt impossibly hard against him, and Dave was reaching his limit. He could barely breathe, Kurt's fingers were digging into his skin, and Dave felt the telling shudder of pleasure run through his body.

"Come on," Dave said gruffly. He reached between them, leveled himself on a knee and wrapped his hand around Kurt's length. With one particularly hard thrust, an action that had Kurt sliding up a bit on the floor, Dave came against him, rutting desperately. "Come on, Kurt. Come on."

"I …" Kurt gasped out. "Dave!"

"Shh." Dave pushed at the hair that fell across Kurt's forehead. "You're okay. I've got you. Just relax."

Kurt was shaking, and Dave held him tight, pulling him into his arms, wholly sheltering him on the cold, hardwood floor of the apartment.

"Dave." Kurt pressed a kiss to his jaw line, slowly uncurling from the position his orgasm had brought him to. "Thank you."

"Thank me?" Dave said, confused. "For what? For what we both wanted? For what we both enjoyed?"

"For …" Kurt shook his head. "For looking at me the way you do. It reminds me of him."

Dave frowned. "Of him? Of who? Kurt, I don't understand."

Kurt gave him a soft push and sat up, hand wiping across his stomach. "We … Dave, we shouldn't have done this. I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Dave shot up abruptly, his hand catching Kurt's. "I know we just met, but what I feel for you is no joke. I'm serious. I want us to be serious. I want you to give us a chance."

Kurt pulled a knee up and let his forehead rest against it. Shoulders heaving a bit, he said, "I need you to leave. Please leave."

"Leave?" Dave's stomach dropped out from under him.

Kurt looked to him with eyes that looked suspiciously wet. "Please, Dave. I need you to give me some space. What we did was a mistake. I know you don't think that, but it's because you don't know. I'm being dishonest. And that's not fair to you."

It probably should have felt like a walk of shame. Gathering up his clothing, and hunting for his shoes, Dave knew he should have felt something. But he didn't. In fact there was nothing but numbness. He supposed that was better than heartbreak, which was what he'd feared when Kurt had started talking.

Dave took a deep breath. "You say it was a mistake," he began, "but you're only speaking for yourself. And that's fine, Kurt, you're a big boy. Obviously you can make your own choices. But don't presume to speak for me. This wasn't a mistake for me, because from the moment I saw you, I was attracted to you, and I wanted nothing more than to get to know you. Maybe we should have gone slower, and maybe I pushed you, or make a mistake, or made you fell uncomfortable."

"No," Kurt broke in harshly, looking up at him from the floor. "You didn't force me or push. That's not it at all."

"Then what?" Dave felt his fingers fist together. "Tell me what I did wrong."

"It's not you."

Dave buckled his belt. "I like you Kurt, I like you a lot. You're beautiful, and kind and easy to talk to. You're a great father and I think anyone would be lucky to have you. But I need you to decide what you want. If you like me too, then don't push me away. And if you don't, then stop dropping hints that you do."

Kurt watched him for a moment, and Dave felt the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. Then Kurt said, "I need to think."

And the thing was, Dave was so absolutely smitten, and so sure that Kurt was something special, that he found himself nodding. Dave told him, "I know I saw LB today, and spent a good deal of time with him, but I still want you to bring him by the clinic on Thursday. I want to look him over more closely, just to be safe. You don't have to … what I mean is, no matter what you decide, I can be professional. Anything we do, or don't do, won't affect how I treat him. I want you to know that."

Slowly, Kurt stood, and he looked impossibly young, naked and vulnerable. "I know that, Dave. You're a good man."

"Maybe not that good. You have no idea, Kurt. But if you want to get one, let me know. I'm interested."

Dave's heart was thundering in his chest as he nearly ran down stairwell of Kurt's apartment building. He was hardly ever so wordy, he wondered what had possessed him to be that way with Kurt. And now all he could think about was all of the unnecessary things he'd said, and how his mouth had run away from him.

He went home. Dave went him to his apartment and tried to think of anything and everything but Kurt. He looked through his mail, started a load of laundry, and then pulled a late shift at the hospital.

"You look like you'd rather be anywhere else in the world."

Dave switched out his casual shoes for his tennis shoes in the hospital's locker area. Across from him was Quinn Fabray, the single most popular nurse in the hospital. Dave had been working at the hospital for four years now, just about as long as her, and Dave was absolutely certain that she was in high demand for a singular reason.

"I could be channeling my inner fourteen year old girl," Dave admitted, "and there is a pint of rocky road ice cream in my freezer. Plus, I think Oxygen is showing a marathon of Grey's Anatomy tonight."

"Ah," Quinn said, "the single most realistic portrayal of hospital staff on TV. Great choice."

Quinn had a bit of an odd tone to her voice when she spoke, and it had taken Dave a bit to figure out it was completely natural, and a bit too elusive. It made things difficult to determine with her. Half the time Dave wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic, or just a bitch. She could be both. Not to say, however, that he didn't have a soft spot for her. She had her sweet moments, and the last time he'd been sick at work, stricken with food poisoning but still trying to power through his last shift, she'd covered for him, and picked up his slack.

"I just need to be here," Dave told her.

"Aww, you're like a lovesick little puppy."

"Excuse me?" Dave balked.

She tapped him on the chest. "You've got little hearts in your eyes. I've seen it a million times. Guys don't understand, we women are masters at picking up on it. You've got it bad for someone. The fact that you're moping around, means either she turned you down, or he broke your little heart. Which is it?"

"It's none of your business." Dave slammed his locker harder than he needed to, and relished a little when Quinn jumped.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Check your teenage angst at the door, Karofsky."

Straddling a nearby bench, Dave brought his foot up to tie his shoe. He wondered if he could risk saying anything to Quinn. But eventually he told her, "It's a guy, and I thought we were … well, something, at least. Now he wants space. He needs to think. I'm confused, okay? That's all."

She sat next to him. The lighting in the locker room was abysmal, but even under the florescent lights Dave could see the extent of her beauty. The man who married her, the one that could deal with her, was going to be the object of a great deal of jealousy.

"I've never seen you like this, Dave. You look …"

Dave cleared his throat. "I guess sometimes things just don't work out, and it doesn't matter that you really wanted them to."

"You know who talks like that?" Quinn brushed out a wrinkle on her pink scrubs. She'd always worn the color, maybe to stand out, maybe just because she liked it. He'd never seen her in anything but pink scrubs, but he guessed it worked for her. Quinn spent most of her time in the pediatrics ward, trying to make up for the mistakes of her youth, the same as him. He looked at her and saw repentance, the same as when he looked in the mirror. Maybe that was why he had always felt they were kindred spirits. She knew his demons, and he knew hers.

"Who?" Dave tied off his shoe and stood, ready for a night shift that would hopefully keep him from thinking about the way Kurt had felt pressed close to him, or the look on his face when Dave had made him come.

Quinn smirked. "Losers."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence."

She smacked him hard on the arm. "Well, what do you want me to say? That it's okay for you to craw in a hole and be pathetic and useless? Dave, either get over this guy or go after him. You don't get to be in the middle and feel sorry for yourself. Grow some balls."

"And what do you want me to do? Make him be interested in me?"

"No." Quinn shook her head. "Show him that you're worth him being interested in you. Do you understand what I'm saying? You should chase after him, obviously you're good at it, but you should make him want to chase you, too."

Dave mulled the thought over. Clearly Kurt had wanted it. He'd been a hundred percent on board when they'd been together. It was only after he'd started to have second thoughts. So clearly something had drawn Kurt to him. Something had made want Kurt want him. Kurt had been interested. And maybe he still was.

"Thinking it over, aren't you?"

"Shouldn't you be somewhere?" Dave demanded. "Annoying someone else?"

Quinn tucked her arms behind her back. "Sure, Davey."

"Well," Dave said with a sigh. "I am a glutton for punishment."

"Call him." Quinn shrugged. She headed to the door, but called over her shoulder, "And for god's sakes, try not to have sex with him again so soon."

Dave's eyes widened comically. "What?" he nearly screeched.

Quinn gave him a wink. "It was all over your face, Dave, and probably half the reason you freaked this guy out so much. Try and keep it in your pants this time, no matter how attracted you are to him. Just because your dick is really, doesn't mean your brain is, or your heart, for that matter."

"Quinn!" Dave laughed. "You're like the dick whisperer."

Quinn told him seriously, "Most of my boyfriends have told me that."

Dave got in from the hospital at two on the morning, showered, brushed his teeth, and fell into bed. His alarm woke him several hours later. Coffee was on the menu first, and then the usual drive up to the clinic. It was Wednesday, and Wednesdays meant an hour of paperwork at the clinic, but otherwise a free morning and afternoon. He didn't see patients on Wednesdays, not outside of emergency situations, and Dave planed to take advantage of that.

"Tina," Dave greeted, heading up to the front desk of the clinic. "Do you remember Kurt Hummel? He came in a few days ago, was about my age? Had the baby with him?"

"Of course." Tina winked at him. "I saved him for you, you know. He probably should have gone to Powell, or maybe even Gilbert, but I sent him your way instead."

"Don't look so smug." Dave leaned across the counter top to tap the computer in front of her. "He had to check in, right? Give you his contact information. I need to get in contact with him. Can you look his phone number for me?"

She leaned back in her chair, hands resting on the gentle swell of her stomach. "Dave, you know as well as I do that half the people here use fake names. And the other half give us fake contact information. This is a free clinic. The people who come here either don't have the health insurance for the regular hospitals, or they can't go there for a reason. You know what those kind of people look like. I know you saw it in Kurt."

He'd seen something that made him skittish. Dave had seen fear in Kurt, and not just for his sick son. Kurt was deliberately evasive, and always found a way to tip the topic of the conversation away from himself. He was hiding something, Dave wasn't stupid, but neither did he think that Kurt would be deliberately deceptive if LB was involved.

"Just look it up?" Dave asked. "Please. Something tells me he gave us a good contact number."

Tina tapped on the computer. "Calling him up for a booty call?"

Dave felt his neck heat. "Just give me the number. And considering your predicament, I wouldn't be talking about booty calls. You had one in the janitor's closet and look what happened."

Tina's eyes narrowed and Dave recoiled. "For your information," she said, and Dave wanted to take his words back right away, fearful for his tentacles, "Mike and I are engaged. But you already knew that. And you know how his mom and dad have been giving us hell over not being married first. They blame me, naturally, and they never liked me to begin with. They think I'm the reason Mike is working here, instead of some upscale, pretentious hospital. You know, like the one you work in."

"Tina," Dave said, apologetic in his tone, "I'm sorry."

She reached across her work space and retrieved a post-it pad and a pen. She scribbled down a phone number and said, "This is the number he gave us. Do you want the address?"

Dave shook his head. "No. I know where he lives."

Head tilting, Tina observed, "So you know where he lives, but you need his number?"

Dave snatched the post-it from here. "Thanks!" Then he high tailed it down to a free work space and spent the next hour and a half catching up on his back paperwork.

Dave called Kurt at half past nine, hoping it wasn't too early, or that Kurt wasn't out of the apartment just yet.

"Hello?" The voice was wary, and Dave had the feeling that Kurt had debated not picking up at all.

"Don't hang up on me. Please."

There was silence for a good while before Kurt said, "How did you get my number?"

"I … uh … I was highly unprofessional and used my work connections to gain access to it. And, considering I'm not calling for anything related to your visit, or concerning a future visit, I guess this could be construed as stalking. My boss really needs me at the clinic, so he probably won't fire me, but I could be in trouble if you reported me."

Dave could hear LB babbling away happily in the background as Kurt asked, more curious now than anything else, "Why are you calling me?"

In Dave's pocket there was a flier that he'd hastily stuffed in there that morning, ripped from the newspaper. Dave retrieved it quickly, smoothed out the creases and said, "I want to make up for yesterday. I want to … well, I guess I want to woo you. I want to give you a chance to see that I want more than just sex. I kind of think that's the impression you got of me yesterday."

"I kissed you first," Kurt said bluntly.

Dave braced his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he headed out to his car. "And I should have been a gentleman and kissed you back, but no more. I screwed up. Let me prove to you I'm better than that."

"Dave." There was the scraping of a chair and then Kurt continued, "You let me pick a fancy bistro for lunch. A café that I knew was overpriced, and had a menu filled with things that you probably couldn't pronounce, or figure out how to eat. I made you pay for a hamburger three times what it was worth, and had you suffering through my horrible back story for a good forty-five minutes."

"Well, yeah, but that wasn't a problem. Not like you think it was."

Kurt added, "You picked up the bill, and drove LB and I home. And I could see it on your face, you were only planning to drop us off. Dave, I've been on my fair share of dates. It's pretty easy to see which guys are expecting more, and which are trying to decide if they're going to make a play for it. You weren't. I know you're not that guy. And I'm not saying it wasn't consensual or wanted yesterday, what we did."

Dave climbed in his car. "You made me leave right away. Kurt, you made me feel dirty, or like I'd made you dirty."

"I told you it was a mistake," Kurt argued, "and I still believe it was. There are things that you don't know, Dave, things that you can't, and that's the reason I reacted the way I did. It wasn't your fault, and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. What we did was a mistake, but that doesn't mean I don't … that I don't like you. I do."

Relief flooded through Dave and some kind of burden lifted from his shoulders. "Then you'll let me take you and LB out today?"

"I don't know."

Dave looked down at the flier. With his car it would only take twenty minutes to get there, and he knew there was no chance of Kurt being able to go on his own, not with a baby and not with the city's bus system.

"Come on, Kurt, let me wine and dine you. Let me show you how it's done." Dave cleared his throat, gathered his courage, and said, "Or tell me to leave you alone. Tell me right now that you're not interested and you want me to leave you alone. I can refer you to an amazing pediatrician at the clinic for LB, and you never have to see me again. Sorry to put you on the spot, but I need to know."

Dave could hear Kurt huff a little, then laugh. "You're impossible, Nurse Karofsky."

A desperately wide grin spread across Dave's face. "I'll pick you up at eleven?"

"What should I dress like?"

A retort was on the edge of Dave's tongue, but he held back, fingers rubbing across the flier. "Shorts? Something … Kurt, dress for the last real day of summer we'll have. Dress for the last time you'll be too warm and want something cool to drink. Dress for the outdoors."

"And I don't suppose you'll tell me where we're going?"

"And make sure LB is in something cute. I'm bringing my camera. But Kurt, if you two match, and I don't, we're going to have words."

Finally Kurt was laughing real and loud and perfect. "Eleven then. Wear red and we won't mismatch."

Dave parked across from Kurt's building fifteen minutes earlier than he needed to. He looked down at himself, once more rethinking his brown khaki shorts and short sleeved red top. But it was the only red shirt that he owned, and Kurt had said to wear red. Kurt was probably going to look fabulous like usual, and Dave was going to look like a doufus.

Kurt was … he was wearing shorts and Dave felt his brain freeze up a bit. Kurt was wearing shorts that were cut flatteringly close to his long legs, and they went on for all kinds of days. Dave swallowed hard, barely able to take in the rest of him.

"You're going to have to help me here." Kurt spoke to him through the glass and Dave scrambled to get out of his car.

He told Kurt, "You look amazing." Then he awkwardly caught the baby carrying unit that Kurt thrust at him. "What's this?"

"I let it slide the first time," Kurt said, hefting LB up and fitting a wide brimmed hat over the baby's dark curls, "but if we're going to be in your car for more than five minutes, LB needs to be safe. It's his carrier. It's also designed to be properly installed in most cars. You get that in your car and we'll follow."

It only took five minutes, most of which were spent with Dave holding LB with an embarrassed look on his face while Kurt managed the baby seat. Dave purposely kept his eyes off Kurt's bent rear, and focused instead on LB who had latched onto the sleeve of his shirt and begun chewing. Maybe Kurt was wrong and he was starting to teethe.

"There!" Kurt announced, straightening up. "We're all good. Can you handle it from here?"

Dave squared his shoulders and put a hand protectively against the back of LB's head. "He's safe with me. I can handle it."

"I believe you." Kurt settled his hands on his hips. "So get to it."

"He really is a happy baby," Dave observed after they were all in the car, secure and on their way. He could see LB through his rearview mirror, and when he thought about it, he'd never really heard the baby cry, not even when he'd been sick. "Happy and quiet."

Kurt nodded. "Always has been. Right from the very start. Everything seems special to him, like it's all new and so wonderful and there's no reason to be upset. Even when something does happen that makes him unhappy or uncomfortable, he endures it. He'd rather suffer in silence nine times out of ten. It worries me, Dave. When will I know if he's really in trouble?"

Dave glanced over at Kurt who's hands were wringing in his lap. "Kurt." Dave reached over, catching them. "You are a fantastic father. You'll know if something is really wrong. But this is just your son's personality. He's the strong and silent type."

Kurt turned in his seat to look back at LB. "I'm afraid he probably won't be that big and strong, Dave." The twinkle in Kurt's eyes was something Dave couldn't follow, but he could tell the words were meant only in a good mannered teasing way. "No, he's going to be pretty small. Compact. Probably fierce, a little spitfire, but he won't be playing football."

"Hey now," Dave defended, "Do you know there are some pretty small guys who've played football. Professionally, even, and there are a couple of positions that are better suited for smaller guys. Kickers don't have to be big. And everyone assumes quarterbacks have to be big, hulking guys, but the fact is, the best quarterback is the kind that's smaller, light on his feet and maneuverable. He needs to be able to get around the bigger guys, the linebackers, and run like hell."

"You're … you're defending LB?" Kurt asked.

Dave gave Kurt a smile, but said, "Absolutely. Sorry, Kurt, but I'm looking out for him now, and no one, not even you, gets to make fun of him." Dave felt Kurt squeeze his fingers back. "So I guess his mom was pretty small? Because honestly, you're thin, Kurt, but you're not flimsy. You're not a waif. You're tall and strong."

"She was-" Kurt broke off. "Never mind. Dave, are you even going to give me a hint to where we're going?"

Dave reached for the radio, the best of the 80's soft rock flooding the car. Journey was playing, and it seemed instinctively that Kurt hummed along. "Nope."

They ended up just outside the city, in one of the smaller, associated neighborhoods. Kurt had never been, he said as much, and it made Dave wonder from how far away he really was.

Dave drove them to a recreational area, parked down a crowded street, and then said, "I hope you brought your baby sling, because we're going to have to walk for a bit."

Kurt crossed his arms. "I brought the extension straps."

"Extension straps?" Dave frowned. "For what?"

"There," Kurt said when Dave had LB strapped to his chest. "You both look great. Thanks, Dave. He's getting heavy. Carrying him around for long periods of time is actually getting difficult. I can't imagine what I'll do when he's older and heavier."

"He'll be walking by then," Dave said, trying to experiment with his balance, and how the baby threw it off. "Are you sure you trust me with him? Like this?"

Kurt gave him a confident look. "You said you had him. You said he was safe with you. I believe you."

Then Dave took Kurt's hand in his own and they started off down the street. There were dozens of other people with them, families and couples, making their way in the same direction. Kurt kept his comments to himself, all wide eyes and excitement.

"It's a fair!" Kurt exclaimed happily when the park came into view.

Dave was so pleased with Kurt's excitement that he could barely contain it. "Yeah," he said, hand pointing out the different areas. "I got a flier for it in the paper this morning. It's an art fair, specifically. Well, arts and crafts, I guess, but they're showing art exhibits, and there's a lot for kids LB's age to do and be stimulated by. Babies need lots of stimulation, right? So I figured we could look at the art, and then take him finger painting? Maybe get his face painted? Get some cotton candy?"

Kurt moved ahead, pulling Dave along by the hand. "Let's go!"

For the first time, Dave saw Kurt carefree. He saw him without burden and without worry. He saw Kurt happy, excited and absolutely enthralled with what was going on around them. They made their way through the people and the bright colors and loud sounds. LB continued to behave perfectly and even when Kurt's hand went sweaty in Dave's grip, he didn't let go.

They had a drink first, then toured the small petting zoo that had been set up. Dave was careful to let LB reach out and touch the baby lamb's fur, but watchful enough to pull back when the baby's fingers went too close to the animal's mouth. LB's face scrunched up at the smell of the animals, but otherwise remained impressed with the shapes and sizes of them. Interested, Kurt said. LB was interested.

There was a series of small, game booths set up, and Dave and Kurt played a few rounds, collectively winning LB a small, stuffed lamb to make up for the one he'd been force to abandon when they moved on.

"Think he'll sit still long enough?" Dave asked when they saw a man painting children's faces.

Kurt shrugged. "One way find out."

LB did sit still long enough, just barely, but by the end he had a little lamb drawn on the side of his cheek, and Dave supposed it was going to be a trend with LB. A nice one, though. Dave could imagine buying the baby a little lamb Halloween costume. The holiday was coming up on them in a few months.

Then, with LB distracted by his stuff animal, flinging it about in his hand, but never letting go of it, Dave took Kurt to the art exhibit.

"I know," Dave said a bit apologetic, "that you do mainly expressionist work, and abstract, and his is more … modern, I guess, but I was kind of hoping you'd like it. This is only art by amateur, local artists, but-"

Kurt cut him off with a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. "It's wonderful. Thank you for taking an interest in the things I like."

"I'm glad you like it." Dave beamed. "Let's go take a closer look."

By the time they saw all of the paintings it was past noon and LB was making unhappy noises.

"He's probably hungry," Kurt remarked, patting the baby bag he was never without. "Do you think we could find a place to settle down?"

"I think I saw a hotdog stand over by the shaved ice station. How do you feel about having some unhealthy hotdogs that barely pass as food?"

Kurt made a face. "I don't suppose they have organic?"

This time it was Dave's turn to kiss his cheek. "I'm pretty sure the answer is no, babe."

"Well," Kurt sighed dramatically, "if it's the only option."

Dave got them each a hotdog, a bag of popcorn and another round of drinks. Then they sat down on a patch of grass near where the other families were perched. Kurt put LB in his lap and spoon fed him a soft baby puree. It looked like carrots, but Dave couldn't say for sure.

"I bet you make your own baby food," Dave teased. "You seem the type."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I don't. Next you'll expect me to have a Baby Bullet. The nearest grocery story actually has a great selection of fresh, organic baby food. Honestly, LB likes the taste, and he can taste the difference in the quality."

Dave took a big bite out of his hotdog, chewed, and then said, "Kurt, I wanted to ask you a question. But I don't want you to get mad at me."

Kurt fed LB another bite and said, "I wondered how long you'd hold out before your curiosity got the best of you."

Dave wiped a hand across his forehead and said, "Who's Blaine Anderson?" Because Dave was pretty sure whoever he was, he was the reason Kurt had freaked out on his earlier. He was part of the reason Kurt was holding back. Dave just hoped he wasn't competition.

Kurt's head ducked and he kissed LB's head. His eyes closed and for a second Dave thought that he wouldn't say anything.

"Blaine was … he … Dave …"

"You said you met him in art class?" Dave reminded. "The art class that you discovered your love for painting in."

Kurt nodded, eyes opening. "I met him and he was unlike anyone I'd ever met. Dave, I've always been out. I'm obviously gay. It was never really an option to hide it, right? It was different with Blaine. He cold have blended in. He could have passed as straight so easily, and had the perfect girlfriend and made his parents happy. It was so different for him, because he choose not to be like that. He choose to be true to himself because he wanted to, not because he had to. He was out and proud and he wasn't going to take no for an answer with me. He wanted to date me and he didn't care what anyone else had to say on the matter, only what I did."

"Oh," Dave said quietly.

"You remind me of him," Kurt mumbled. "The determination."

"So you dated."

Kurt held up his hand and Dave could see the indent on his ring finger. "We got married."

Dave's stomach dropped out from under him. He froze and he knew he looked stupid, but he could barely breathe. Because Kurt was married. Wait, no, he had a ring mark, but no ring, so maybe he was only divorced. Oh, god, he was divorced but still so clearly in love with this Blaine Anderson. Dave was loosing Kurt to an ex husband.

Kurt continued on, "It wasn't legal in our state, obviously, so Blaine took me away. He make me pack one weekend, and he wouldn't tell me where we were going, and we went to New York. We got married that weekend, spent the entire weekend partying. It was the best moment of my life, Dave. I honestly had never thought I'd find the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I never thought that person would find me. But there he was, a giant dork, funny and brilliant and smart and he loved me."

"You still love him."

Dave felt his heart breaking as Kurt nodded. "He's the father of my son. How could I not love him?"

Wait. Dave looked suddenly to LB. "He's … but … LB."

Kurt leaned closer to Dave. "We would have done anything, Dave, anything to give each other children. But biologically, you know it's as much an impossibility as I do. So Blaine and I decided, we were going to have kids no matter what, even if we could only have them with the help of other people."

Kurt ran his fingers through LB's hair. "LB's mother was the closest match to me that we could find." Kurt's eyes crinkled up in fondness, "In appearance, naturally. There's a database that gay couples can register on. We provide all of the medical funding, take care of our surrogate, provide for her, and at the end of the nine months, she hands the baby over to us. I know, it sounds crude and it sounds so clinical, but it was really a wonderful process. She lived with us, and we put her through her doctrine program in exchange."

Stuttering a bit, Dave said, "That's majorly expensive."

"Blaine … the Anderson family is very well to do. He had access to a sizeable account, even after his parents disowned him for marrying me-for choosing me over them. He paid out of that money, and we had our baby. We had our family. He wanted to be a father so badly. Having LB was everything for him."

LB clapped his hands together and shied away from his lunch, indicating he was done. Kurt capped the food and set it aside, letting LB crawl free and explore his environment.

Struggling, Dave said, "I can't imagine that anyone would ever fall out of love with you, Kurt. This Blaine guy, for him to just leave you-"

"Dave," Kurt said sharply, eyes narrowed but wet. "He didn't … Blaine … god, we had all these plans. We were fresh out of college, and Blaine had just gotten a job with a production company. I was working on my first series, and we had LB. We were going to buy a house in the suburbs and enroll LB in the best daycare center around. We couldn't wait to brag about him being more advanced than all of the other parent's kids."

Kurt sniffled and watched LB rip up strands of grass, and stain his clothes.

"What happened?" Dave asked gently.

"And we were going to have more kids, too," Kurt said urgently. "After LB we wanted a girl. We even had our next surrogate picked out. But it was going to be my turn this time. We'd take a part of me and a part of someone else who looked like Blaine, curls and hazel eyes and everything. It was going to be perfect, Dave. It was perfect."

Dave had a sinking suspicion Kurt hadn't been left behind, at least not in the way Dave had first assumed.

"Something happened, didn't it?"

Kurt pressed a palm to his eye and wiped. "We started LB on this premium formula. It was supposed to be the best, our pediatrician told us so, and it was what we decided on. But it was so impossible to find at times. And with so much going on, we ran out. I was going to go to the store, I was already dressed and I needed to run some errands anyway." Tears slipped free and Dave felt his own face burn with the tell tale sign of tears. It hurt so badly to see Kurt crying.

"Blaine said he'd go for me," Kurt continued on. "I was getting over a cold and still a little dizzy on my feet. He didn't want anything to happen to me, so he went. And he didn't come back."

So that was it. Blaine Anderson, the love of Kurt Hummel's life, and the father of his child, was dead. Dave was jealous over a dead man.

LB toppled down from his knees after loosing his balance. He blinked rapidly and there seemed a chance he could cry, but then he was back on his way, the fall completely forgotten, and to the back of his mind.

"Car accident," Kurt finished. "Blaine stopped at the red light, the guy behind him didn't. He pushed Blaine's car into oncoming traffic. The doctors … I talked to them, they said Blaine didn't suffer. Small favors, I suppose. LB was only a few weeks old. Dave, he won't have any memories of him. He won't know who Blaine was. He won't remember. All he'll have is the memories that I do."

Slowly, Dave reached up, his fingers catching the small tears that rolled down Kurt's cheeks. "Then he is so lucky, Kurt. Because I can tell, you have the most wonderful memories of him. You've got all the love in the world for him, and because of that, LB will, too."

Kurt's fingers were so soft as they brushed against the growing stubble on Dave's chin. Kurt whispered to him, "You're impossible, Nurse Karofsky."

Dave felt Kurt's fingers shift as he smiled. "You're going to be saying that a lot from now on, aren't you?"

"Maybe." Kurt gave a tentative smile. "If you give me reason."

"Thank you, Kurt, for opening up to me."

Kurt blinked back the last of his tears. "You deserved to know. It's not a secret. I'm sure if you googled Blaine's name you'd get the news paper article they did on him. Blaine's parents made it front page news, and then spent the entire article slandering me and insinuating that I was somehow the cause of his death. They hate me."

"But I'm sure they have to be able to see what a good father you are to-LB!"

Dave scrambled to his feet and began to sprint as hard as he could the distance between where they'd been sitting and how far LB had crawled. He snatched the baby up and held him close as LB began to cry loudly. Panting heavily, Kurt came up behind him and all but tore LB out of Dave's grip and into his own.

"It's okay," Kurt soothed, rubbing the baby's back, bouncing him slightly. "You're okay."

Dave bent forward and let himself exhale loudly. LB was okay. He was. But the baby had gotten way too close to the parking lot. There were too many cars passing through and it would have been impossible for any motorist to see the baby if LB had crawled out too far.

The crook of Kurt's elbow hooked around Dave and he found himself being pulled into a crushingly tight hug. "Thank you," Kurt cried into his ear. "Thank you so much."

Dave drove them home after that. Kurt sat in the back seat with LB and fussed over him while Drave drove with a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

LB was passed out in Kurt's arms as they rode the elevator up and Dave stopped short of Kurt's door. He remembered all to vividly the last time he'd been in Kurt's apartment. He wasn't certain he could look in and not feel some kind of biological reaction. For all of the things that had been talked about between them that day, and despite the scare with LB, Dave was still hopelessly infatuated with Kurt. Completely turned on just being in his proximity.

"You can … if you want to, you can come in." Kurt kept a strong arm around LB's sleeping body and nudged the door open with his foot.

Dave shook his head, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "Actually, I've got a shift later tonight at the hospital. Maybe even a double, depending on how it goes. I should get home and start getting ready."

"Oh." Kurt let the baby bag slip down from his shoulder. "Okay. Um, Dave, I just wanted to say that, well, I had a great time today. I hope you weren't completely scared off, because I really enjoyed being with you."

"Didn't I tell you?" Dave reminded. "Back when we were sitting the grass. I told you, I couldn't imagine anyone ever leaving you. Who could walk away from you? Not me, that's for sure. I'm not coming in because I like you, and because I like being with you."

Kurt smiled at him and Dave smiled back.

"Don't forget." Dave tapped his temple. "You're going to bring LB in to see me tomorrow, right?"

Kurt glanced at the sleeping baby. "Do you think I need to?"

"I want you to," Dave said, plain and honest.

"Tomorrow," Kurt agreed with a nod.

Dave headed back to the elevator. "If you guys come around lunch, we can go out for a talk afterwards."

"Only if you let me buy." Kurt looked unmovable. "It's my turn."

Dave gave him a final wave before stepping into the elevator and taking the rickety thing down.

He managed to actually get to his car before squealing like a teenaged girl. It wasn't his finest moment, but it was one of his happiest.

Kurt and LB came by like clockwork the next day.

Dave was in the break room, filling up on another round of coffee when Tina's head poked in. She scanned the room, spotted him, and then nearly flew to his side. Hanging onto his arm, she gushed, "Guess who's back?

Dave kept a straight face and said, "Kurt Hummel?"

Tina scowled a him. "Cheater. You knew."

Dave laughed and nodded. "I asked him to come by today so I could get another look at his son. I'm confident he only had a simple cold, and he's fine by now, but I just wanted to be sure. You never can be too careful with babies."

Tina's hands cupped her stomach. "No. you're right."

His first year at the clinic Dave had lost two babies. Dave was never going to loose another because of his own lack of thoroughness. He was never going to dismiss anything as simple swelling and not have a follow up visit. He was absolutely never going to let a baby die because he assumed one thing, and expected it to be true. Never again, and especially not with LB.

"Want to know the best part?" Tina nearly squealed. "Puckerman was waiting for him at the bus stop!"

Dave remembered, he'd asked Noah Puckerman to look after Kurt if he ever saw him come around again, but Dave had been imagining a late night visit, and not one in broad daylight. But the weirder thing, by far, was the fact that Puck had to have looked up Kurt in Tina's appointment calendar and seen that he was scheduled to be in today. There was no way he'd perfectly guessed that Kurt would drop in.

"He walked him right in," Tina continued. "Hummel didn't look too happy, but he let Puck do it. He's in your usual room."

Dave took a drink of coffee and then set the mug in the nearby sink. "Thanks, Tina. Now, do me a favor and try and curb the gossip that is obviously about to run rampant in here."

"Well, then, clear some things up for me and I won't have to invent my own gossip."

"Two questions." Dave held up the appropriate number of fingers. "And you'd better keep them at an unborn baby friendly level."

She asked him, "Are you and Hummel dating?"

Dave thought about lying to her. He thought about respecting Kurt's privacy, and getting her off his back, and the fact that he still wasn't completely sure they were dating, rather than just testing the waters. But then he remembered Kurt opening up to him, and telling him about Blaine. He thought about getting LB's face painted, and the kisses they shared, and Kurt was here, now.

"Yeah. You could say I'm wooing him."

Tina gave a happy squeal and clapped her hands together. "That's great. You've been alone way too long." She turned on heel and headed towards the door.

"Wait!" he called after her. "I gave you two questions."

"I only needed the first," Tina said. "Now don't keep your boy waiting, or you know what could happen if Puck's involved. He may be completely smitten with the blond nurse friend of yours at the hospital, but Puck's dick has a mind of its own."

Dave nearly ran to the room he knew Kurt was in. And when he threw open the door he was pleased to find Kurt and the baby alone, sitting on a chair in the corner. They both looked up at him at the same time, LB reaching up for him immediately and Kurt's whole face lighting.

"You certainly kept us waiting long enough," Kurt said, his tone light. He handed LB over and Dave hugged him firmly while the baby began chewing on his scrubs.

"Hey, there," Dave told Kurt. He let his fingers cup the side of Kurt's face. "How're you guys doing today?"

Kurt's head turned and he pressed a kiss to Dave's palm. "Fine. We had a good morning. In fact, LB's a little excitable right now. He must have known we were coming to see you."

Dave pulled back a little to look at LB. He told the baby, "Alright, kid, let's take a look at you and then we'll get out of here."

Dave undressed LB carefully, raising an eyebrow to Kurt at the baby's little sailor outfit.

"It's adorable," Kurt defended.

Dave tossed Kurt the baby's sailor hat. "If you say so."

As Dave set to work, checking LB's lungs, Kurt slid up next to him and asked, "Who's Noah Puckerman?"

Dave startled a bit. "Oh. Him."

"Yes. Him."

Dave winced. "Don't be mad."

Kurt looked surprised. "I'm not mad. Noah said you asked him to make sure I got on and off the bus safely. How could I be mad at that?"

"Noah?" Dave questioned. "You're the only one who calls him that. He's just Puck to everyone else."

Defensively, Kurt said, "It's his name. And I've met his type before. He's just looking for a place, Dave. He just wants to be accepted, and when he isn't, he lashes out."

"Lashes out," Dave mumbled. "He drove his car through Memorial Hospital's back loading area at three in the morning. That's the part of the hospital where we get our supplies. He was drunk and high and then proceeded to stumble his way thought the hospital where he assaulted two doctors, and orderly, and caused a disturbance."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Dave lifted LB and checked his reflexes.

"Why did he do it?"

Dave sighed. "A girl. He's carrying a torch for one of the nurses at the hospital. Puck's pretty blue collared, and she's high society. They made it work for a little bit, but then things crumbled. Her parents wanted her to marry up, and Puck doesn't handle stress very well. They split and she moved on, he didn't."

"He said he's serving out his community service here."

Honestly, Dave told Kurt, "I let Puckerman know that I'm just as capable of signing his court mandated paperwork as my boss, Mr. Schue. And, if he promised to look out for you, and keep you and LB safe while you're here, I could make his time go a little faster."

Kurt's fingers were cool and soft as they brushed the back of Dave's neck. Then Kurt leaned in close and said, "That's simultaneously presumptuous and thoughtful of you. I have mixed feelings, honestly. Next time let me know you're going to have someone shadowing me, okay?"

Finished with LB, Dave passed him off the Kurt and nodded. "I promise. Now, we should go get lunch. There's this great steak house that I've been wanting to try forever."

Kurt made a face. "A steak house."

Boldly, Dave leaned down to Kurt and kissed him on the mouth. "I'm sure they have a salad on the menu somewhere."

Kurt only shook his head.

The steak house, in fact, did have a salad on the menu. While LB scratched across a children's placemat with a red crayon, Dave tried to decide between the cut of steak he wanted. Kurt told him, "It doesn't really count as a salad if it has slices of steak in it, David."

"Don't call me David." Dave nudged him gently under the stable. "My dad calls me David. It makes me feel like a little boy."

LB's red crayon scattered across the table and Dave replaced it with a blue color. LB banged it against the table and Dave took that to mean he wasn't a fan of the color.

"Hey," Dave said after they ordered, "there's something that's been bugging me. I just got sidetracked every time I wanted to ask."

Kurt settled his napkin on his lap. "Go ahead. I'm sure it will only be mildly evasive."

Dave nudged him again, this time harder, but let Kurt's fingers thread through his own. "What, exactly, does LB stand for? I looked at the paperwork you filed. You didn't write out his full name, just LB."

"Lucas," Kurt answered easily. "His name is Lucas. It's Lucas Brighton, but that's not actually how he got the nickname LB."

"How then?"

Kurt used his free hand to ruffle LB's curls. "Then next time you come over, if you actually want to come in, I'll show you a picture of Blaine. Suffice to say, he was pretty compact. Short, with his beautiful, lightly tanned skin, and hazel eyes. And he had the most amazing dark curls. Sometimes he'd gel his hair down, his parents preferred it that way, but when it was just us, he'd let his curls go and they were … they had a mind of their own. LB is his spitting image, Dave. It's like there wasn't any other genetic material that went into making him. Everything is Blaine."

Dave looked to LB. "Not everything."

"Everything," Kurt insisted. "LB's personality is just like Blaine's was. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't have it any other way. LB is the best reminder I could have. It's like I still have Blaine with me. Before Blaine … before he died, I started teasing him with LB. I started calling Lucas by the nick name. I was calling him Little Blaine. LB. Get it? It's just coincidence that LB stands for Lucas Brighton, too."

"Do you ever call him Lucas?" Dave wondered.

"Once in a while," Kurt shrugged. "LB is just natural now. I guess I keep waiting for him to be old enough to get into real trouble. Then I'll call him by his full name, like my dad did with me."

"I don't know." Dave reached over to tickle LB. "He doesn't really look like a trouble maker to me. He looks more like … an academic decathlon winner."

Kurt pinched Dave hard. "He's going to be a Nobel prize winning scientist. There's a difference."

Lunch was, much to Dave's relief, running smoothly. He and Kurt talked about anything and everything, and Dave had never met someone who made it so easily to open up to. He could bare his soul to Kurt, and it seemed endlessly easy. He hoped Kurt felt the same.

Afterward, Kurt asked, "What are you doing the rest of today?"

Dave felt awkward letting Kurt pick up the check, but didn't fight him on it.

"I've got a half shift at the hospital later tonight, but that's it. I really only have to be there for a few hours, but not until much later."

Kurt pulled LB up against his chest and offered, "Come back to our place. There's something I want to show you."

Reluctantly, Dave agreed.

This time around, Dave felt as if he had better self control. He stepped confidently into Kurt's apartment and held his ground as he watched Kurt place the baby down into a nearby playpen.

"He loves it in there," Kurt said, turning back for Dave. He held out his hand. "LB could play in there for hours, if I let him. Lots of colors, lots of shapes. Lots of toys. That's all he needs."

"Where are we going?" Dave asked, taking his hand.

Kurt led them through the apartment and out onto the terrace balcony. Dave could see artwork littered around, mostly unprotected, and a testament to how warm the weather had been over the past few weeks. Dave imagined Kurt would have to move it all inside in a few short days, the first rain of the season was scheduled to come in then.

"I painted something," Kurt said.

"I bet you paint a lot."

Kurt squeezed Dave's hand. "I painted something specific. I … well, I juts want you to look at it."

Kurt stopped them in front of an easel right on the edge of the balcony. It was set up to give Kurt a perfect view of his portion of the city, and Dave could even seen the clinic, way off in the distance.

The painting itself was mostly blue, different shades, different textures, and artfully crafted together in a away that reminded Dave of the ocean. Splashes of red crept their way in, and highlights of gold. It was a bit on the unnerving side, and Dave had to stare at it for several moments before the pinned down the emotion that the painting caused him.

"Well?" Kurt demanded. "I stayed up all last night. I couldn't even think about going to bed. It was so fresh in my mind, I had to paint it. I had to get it out of me."

"What is it?" Dave asked him. "I mean, what's it supposed to be?" Understanding Kurt's style was a challenge, but Dave truly wanted to know.

Kurt leaned against him, his forehead touching Dave's shoulder. "It's you. It's how I see you. It's what you are, to me."

"Blue?" Dave asked, a little stunned. "You see me as … a color?"

Guarded, Kurt said, "It's a metaphor, Dave. It's a representation of you through color. It's how you make me feel. I'm not asking you to understand it. Sometimes I don't even understand my own work. It's just that I wanted you to-" Kurt shook his head. "Never mind."

"I like it." Dave nodded. "It really makes you look twice at it."

"Really?" Kurt turned to him. "Because you don't have to lie to me. You won't hurt my feelings. People like different types of art for different reasons. You don't have to-"

Dave cut him off with a kiss. He framed Kurt's face gently and assured, "It's weird and amazing and complex and wonderful. I like it. Stop doubting yourself."

"I want to be able to sell here some day," Kurt confessed. "I want to have an art show, and put my name out there. I want it … I want it to be safe to do that."

Dave kissed him again, this time pressing his lips against Kurt's forehead. "What's got you so spooked?"

"Huh?"

Dave wrapped him up in his arms, tucking Kurt's head under his chin and looking out across the landscape. "You're always looking over your shoulder. You give basic information, pay cash, and you're so careful with who you let in your life. You said you came to this city abruptly, but never said why. I think … I think something scared you, and that's why you left your home. You came here to get away from something. I want you to trust me to have your back, and protect whatever secret it is that you have."

Kurt denied, "It's not a secret."

"Tell me," Dave urged. "Did someone hurt you? Is someone bothering you? Because I swear to god, you just tell me, and I'll-"

Kurt interrupted, "Beat up an old lady?"

"What?" Dave faltered. "No. No way."

"LB's grandmother, Dave, Blaine's mother." Kurt wet his lips and sighed. "She always hated me, and always let Blaine know that as long as he was with me, she hardly considered him her son. Blaine's father, well, I guess he didn't really care. Maybe he didn't know. I saw him twice in seven years. Twice. He was always away, business trips and company meetings and that kind of thing. I kind of got the feeling he didn't care about me at all, which was fine by me, considering the reception Blaine's mother gave me."

Dave frowned. "How does some old lady have you on the run?"

"She basically disowned Blaine," Kurt reminded, "but she adored LB. She adored him from the moment she knew he'd be conceived. She showered us with presents and baby gifts and thrust money at us. We didn't want any of it, we wanted her to go away, but Blaine hoped that we'd be able to use LB to mend some of the ties between us. No matter what she thought about Blaine and myself, LB was always an innocent party to her, and we were always so thankful for that."

Dave whispered, "Go on."

Kurt shook his head. "I never, ever, thought of LB as anything but my son. It never mattered to me that he wasn't of my blood. He's my baby, Dave, he's my son, and it doesn't matter that biologically he's Blaine's and not mine. We never thought that would be a problem, not at all. Then Blaine died, and that vulture of a woman who claims to be his mother, swooped right in."

Kurt turned in Dave's arms, frantic in the face. "She tried to take LB from me. I'm not his father, not biologically, and she is his grandmother. She's got money and influence and power. She served me with papers within forty-eight hours of Blaine being dead. I was planning my husband's funeral the day that a man showed up on our door step with papers."

"You're running from the law?" Dave stammered, loosing his grip on Kurt.

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "Of course not. I'm not stupid. I had my court date, and I have temporary custody."

"Temporary," Dave repeated.

"Temporary. The court is currently reevaluating the case. We're scheduled to meet for a ruling in less than a month. It's too hard to tell how the court will rule. She's done a lot to discredit me, and unfortunately, she's a fine, upstanding citizen."

Dave said, "But I don't get it, honestly. I don't get why you ran. You have custody, even if it's temporary."

Kurt's arms hugged around his own body. "She as visitation rights. She has the right to see him, if she's in the area. I'm afraid, Dave, that she'll come to see him, take him out for the afternoon, and they won't come back. I'm terrified that she'll get on the first flight out of the country, and I'll have absolutely no idea where they went, or how to follow after them. She's … she's made it clear to me, she could do it. She said it to me, trying to get me to back down from the case, but I believe her. I think she'd do it, too."

"She can't just take him!" Dave thundered.

"She could and she would, given the opportunity. That's why I came here. I packed up and I moved. I'm not saying it's going to be impossible for her to find me, but I'm trying to keep my name off of everything. I'm renting under an alias. I don't have any credit cards, and we don't do things that would require any kind of electronic tracking. I only have to keep us hidden for three weeks, Dave. Just until our court date. If she can't find LB, she can't see him, and that means she can't take him."

The idea of LB being gone from is something that Dave refused to recognize. The little boy had so quickly become an integral part of his life. Dave cared for the baby, damn near loved him, and without a doubt, understood how important he was to Kurt. If Kurt lost LB, then Dave lost Kurt. And Dave wasn't going to loose Kurt. He didn't know how far they'd go, or if they'd end up being as important to each other as Dave dared to hope, but he wasn't going to let anyone ruin the chance they had at it.

"She's not going to take him." Dave set his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "You won't let her, and neither will I. LB belongs here, with his father, and I'm going to do everything I can to keep it that way. Do you trust me to have your back? Do you trust me to have LB's?"

Mutely, Kurt nodded.

"Then let me take care of you. Let me take some of the worry. Can you do that?"

Kurt nodded. "I just don't want to push my problems on you. You've been so good to us, Dave. You've been better than anyone would have ever expected or hoped for. I don't want to scare you off. I don't want to run you off."

Dave glanced back over at the painting Kurt had done of him. Trust. That was what the painting made him feel. That was the emotion. Trust.

"You never have to worry about that, Kurt. Never."

Then all of the sudden, Kurt and LB became Dave's family. He started to think of them like that, and it was a weird feeling. Dave hadn't felt like he had a family in a long time. His mom had been dead forever, and his father barely qualified as a parent with the way he'd been for years now. Dave had friends, some more quality than others, but that was about it. Having someone who called him in the morning, talked to him over coffee, and actually cared about how his day was going, was a new experience.

Dave loved it.

The days passed slowly, wonderfully slow, and Dave soaked up the feeling of having Kurt and LB in his life.

Dave's job kept him busy most of the time, but it wasn't uncommon for Kurt and LB to show up on his lunch break, bringing with them cold-cuts and drinks. Sometimes after work Dave swung by Kurt's apartment and watched TV with him. And there were other days where they didn't see each other, but the next time they did, there was such a rush of pleasure in his chest that Dave was actually thankful for the separation.

Dave liked to take them out, not all affronted that they were a package deal, and probably would be for a very long time. He liked to take them out to lunch, and to the park, and to places that LB could be distracted, and Kurt would hold his hand.

His favorite part, however, was showing up in the morning on Kurt's doorstep, coffee in one hand, and a small trinket or gift in the other. His thoughtfulness always earned him a bright smile from Kurt, and appreciative kisses. Dave liked the kisses the best, and he was aiming for extra special ones the morning he brought Kurt flowers.

"Are you still trying to woo me?" Kurt asked with a suspicious smile.

Dave looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hands. "Yes?"

There was a flower shop less than a block from where Dave lived. In the summer, when it was hot and the flowers were in perfect bloom, Dave could actually smell the flowers all the way back at his apartment. Dave passed by the shop nearly every day, and never thought twice about the flowers, at least not until he saw a particularly beautiful arrangement of lilies.

"You don't have to," Kurt said, taking the flowers and inviting Dave in. "You already have the boy. You don't have to woo him."

Dave shrugged. "I like to keep him interested. You know, remind him that he's wanted."

Kurt fingered the soft material of the pretty blue bow tied around the lilies. "Oh, he knows. Trust me." Kurt headed toward the kitchen, calling back, "I'm going to put these in water. LB is in the nursery if you want to pop in."

"Take your time. I need to see my boy."

Dave found LB awake in his crib, chewing on the ear of his ever faithful stuffed lamb. Dave could say, he hadn't seen the baby without it since the day he and Kurt had pooled their spare change to win it for him.

"Hey, buddy." Dave leaned his elbows on the crib and leaned down to give the baby a wet kiss. "I know your daddy says you aren't teething yet, and you may be a little young for it by typical standards, but I say otherwise."

The lamb dropped out of LB's hands right away and he strained for Dave.

"Okay, okay," Dave laughed. "Up you go." He braced LB on his hip and bounced him a little.

LB babbled against him and Dave took that as a sign of happiness. Tiny hands beat against his shoulders and bright hazel eyes crinkled.

"Ugh," Dave exclaimed. "You're just way too adorable for your own good. Give me a break, LB. I can barely handle your daddy's adorableness. Don't kill me with it."

"Dave?"

Kurt's voice carried easily into the nursery.

"Here we go," Dave said.

When Dave reached the main area of the apartment he could see the flowers he'd brought Kurt off to the side, situated in a fancy vase. The vase made Dave pause, and then look around the apartment, noting the nicer things scattered about. Dave hadn't expected the apartment to be bare, but neither was he under the impression that Kurt had had a lot of time to pack up when he'd gone on the run.

"Kurt," Dave said slowly. "Can I ask you a question about one of those things you're not supposed to talk about while you're dating?"

Kurt frowned. "What?"

"You have a really nice apartment," Dave pointed out. "Expensive stuff. I know you've sold some of your artwork, and you-"

"Blaine," Kurt answered. "He was an Anderson, Dave. I know that doesn't matter here, but where LB and I came from, it meant something, namely money. Blaine's mother may have cut him off from her personal accounts when he married me, but even she couldn't cut him out the family fortune."

"So you're kind of like a kept boy?"

Kurt was not amused. "Blaine loved me, Dave. He loved me and he wanted me to be happy. He knew painting made me happy, and he had the money to let me do that, and not have to worry about our bills. If that makes me a kept boy, then okay, that's what I was. But Blaine made it clear from the beginning, he thought the money was pretty worthless if he couldn't spend it on the people who were important to him. That was LB and myself."

"Sorry," Dave mumbled. "I shouldn't have said that."

Kurt reached out for LB and Dave let him go. "Dave, it's not like I just sat back and let Blaine break out his credit card every time we went out. When we were just out of college, and in our first place on our own, I had a job. I worked full time, Dave, and painted on the side. I paid my half of the bills. I contributed."

Dave rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry, Kurt." God, he felt guilty.

Kurt kissed LB on the cheek. "I'm not ashamed of using Blaine's money. When he died, Dave, I thought I was going to die, too. I thought my whole world was ending, and not even LB was enough to get me through those first couple of days. I just cried. My dad had to take LB. I couldn't take care of myself, let alone my son."

The guilt was only continuing to mount . Dave slung a heavy arm around Kurt's shoulder and pulled him in tight. "I'll say it a million times if I have to."

"No. No." Kurt shook his head. "I just want you to understand. When Blaine died, and then when his mother tried to sue me for custody of LB, I couldn't go to work. I couldn't provide for LB. But Blaine was always the planner of the two of us. He had backup plans and contingency plans, and fail safes. He never wanted to leave, but he was prepared for the chance that it happened. He set us up. He made sure that in the event of his death, or mine for that matter, that LB would still have a strong, capable parent. He ensured that one of us would be there, and would be able to provide for LB. So yes, Blaine left a lot of money behind when he died, some of it in LB's name, but most of it in mine. And he had a hefty life insurance plan. I'm not saying we're rolling in the cash, but I'm going to give LB a good life, and he will be provided for."

Dave wondered, then why do you live in this part of town? Why don't you have a car? You've got the money, obviously, your home is beautiful, but outside of that, you live so frugally.

Kurt's nose nudged Dave's playfully, "I'm trying to lay low for a while, remember? And I told you when you first saw this place, I didn't rent because of the location. I rented for the view. I'm an artist. I go where the inspiration is. This was it for me."

Dave felt a sudden smack to the face and LB grinned up at him. "Yeah, yeah," he told the baby. "You'll have my full attention in a minute. Hold your horses."

"LB has health insurance," Kurt said. "The best money can buy, and that's a lot, but I went to the clinic because I knew that you wouldn't put his name down on file, or at the very least you wouldn't run his social security number or cross reference him in a larger database. You wouldn't be able to see that I wasn't giving you a name that matched his proper identification."

"Huh?" Dave questioned, "He's not a Lucas?"

LB was wiggling so aggressively that Kurt set him down on the hardwood floor. The baby pawed at Dave's pants for a second before crawling off. He was really moving, and Dave was sure it wouldn't be long before he was walking.

"He's a Lucas." Kurt crossed his arms. "He's just not a Hummel."

"He's … he's an Anderson?"

"He's a Hummel-Anderson," Kurt grinned as he spoke. "A mouthful, I know, but Blaine couldn't compromise his last name, and I didn't want to. So he's a Hummel-Anderson. But here, he's LB Mason."

Dave caught Kurt around the waist, fingers digging in against Kurt's hipbone. "Where'd you get that name from?"

"I figured any baby under the name Hummel or Anderson would be on Blaine's mother's watch list," Kurt explained. "My mother's name was Elizabeth Mason. I'm using her maiden name."

It took a moment for Dave's fingers to sneak under the hem of Kurt's shirt, and he stroked the soft skin. For a while now they'd shared chaste kisses and lingering looks. They'd hugged and snuggled and touched each other freely. It had bee enough for a while. But Dave had felt the sexual tension begin to build once more between them for several days. It was getting harder and harder to be in Kurt's proximity without wanting more. The last thing he knew he needed to do was push Kurt towards something he clearly wasn't ready for, but the urges were there.

Kurt added, "Also, I don't have a car because I don't like to drive. Blaine used to call me more snobby than him. He was always just kidding, of course, but I don't like to drive, I prefer to be driven around. It's just a preference, I guess."

And, Dave supposed, Kurt probably had some hang ups about cars to begin with. He'd lost his husband to a car accident. Dave couldn't blame him.

Dave caught LB from the corner of his eye and gestured. "Hey. Check him out. He's really moving." LB had made his way across the living room and was ducking under the coffee table.

"He's been a mover and a shaker since day one. I had to baby proof early."

"There's this place," Dave said abruptly. "It's downtown. I've never been, but I've got a couple of friends who take their kids there. It's like a play area for babies and toddlers. We should go."

"Jamboree?" Kurt asked

"Get dressed," Dave demanded. His hand lifted from Kurt's hip. "That's where we're going."

"I am dressed," Kurt protested, gesturing to his slacks and shirt. "Dressed very well, actually."

Dave gave him a playful leer. "Agreed, but we're about to go roll around with our kid for a few hours. I don't think your skin tight jeans are going to cut it." Dave paused as Kurt gave him an odd look. "What?"

"Nothing." Kurt grinned at him. "Let me go change."

Jamboree was an experience. They climbed and crawled and played for nearly two hours and the whole thing left Dave sweaty and tired. Kurt complained about the state of his hair. But neither could disagree that they'd never seen LB more outgoing, or louder. He laughed, shouted and was animated. Dave loved him even more in those hours.

But afterwards, as Kurt gathered up their things, Dave held LB in his arms and rubbed the boy's back as he slept.

"He's completely worn out," Kurt remarked.

"I think that's the point, right? This is just as much for the parents. They get the play time, and we get the nap time."

"I'm not complaining." Kurt brushed by him. "I'm sure you shouldn't be, either."

Dave's hand paused on LB's back. "How about we go back to my place? LB can crash there for a while, and it's closer from here than your place." It was a risky move. In the several weeks that they'd been seeing each other, Dave had never taken Kurt to his place. He'd always let Kurt call the shots, and decide where they were going, and where they ended up. They kept strictly to Kurt's apartment, a space that Dave knew he felt the most comfortable in. In fact Dave had made it a point not to offer his own place.

Kurt seemed on the cusp of saying no, Dave almost expected it, but then Kurt asked, "Is your apartment baby safe?"

"LB is sleeping," Dave pointed out. Then he felt smug and added, "But I'd like to inform you that I've appropriately altered my apartment. There are plug caps on all the outlets, ties on the cabinets, and all of the sharp edges have been removed. My apartment is LB safe. I'd never offer to bring him there if it wasn't."

"Oh, Dave." Kurt's face softened. "Come on." Regardless of the people around them, Dave wrapped an arm around him and led him out of the building.

It was a nerve wrecking experience, driving back to his apartment. Dave felt a little embarrassed, even after the admission on Kurt's part on the size of his bank account. Dave knew he was doing well. His job at the hospital allotted him a nice apartment in a better neighborhood than Kurt lived. And his apartment, while relatively small, was completely furnished, and filled with the finer things. Dave had always believed in working hard to play hard, and enjoyed the perks of what he'd worked for. It was something that karma, apparently, also approved of.

Kurt stopped just inside the apartment, and Dave was still closing the door behind him when he burst into laugher. "Dave," Kurt barely managed, "I hate to tell you this, but I really did think that you lived in some kind of bachelor pad."

Dave tried to look affronted. "I told you I have an actual job at the hospital. The clinic is just where I volunteer."

"I like it," Kurt said softly, "it looks lived in."

Dave actually had a guest bedroom. Sometimes he had friends from work crashing with him, and lately Doctor Schue had been the one to occupy the room for a few nights a week, his marriage falling apart before everyone's eyes. But it was vacant for the moment, nicely decorated and the perfect place for company.

But Dave led Kurt down to his bedroom instead. After brief hesitation he pushed the door open and said, "My bed is bigger than the one in the guest bedroom. I was figuring we could frame the bed with a ton of pillows and LB would be perfectly safe.

Kurt placed LB down on the bed gently and brushed at a tuff of hair laying across the baby's forehead. "He sleeps like the dead," Kurt said, helping Dave with the pillows. "He should give us at least an hour, probably more, of silence. But then I'm warning you, he'll be up and ready to go again. I get the feeling that he's going to run me ragged when he starts walking on his own, and then running."

"You'll manage somehow," Dave assured, "I'm certain. Now come on. Let him sleep. I'll make us some coffee."

A few minutes later Dave handed Kurt a steaming cup of coffee and sat down next to him on the sofa. He casually tucked an arm around Kurt's shoulders and pulled him closer. He reached for the remote and turned on a cooking show. Kurt hummed appreciatively against him and Dave knew he'd chosen right.

"What do you want to do when all of this is over?" Dave asked him quietly. "When the court grants you full custody and you don't have to lay low."

Kurt smiled from behind his coffee cup. "Optimistic."

Dave shook his head. "Are we willing to accept any other alternative?"

"No," Kurt admitted. "I want to walk down the street without having to look over my shoulder."

"Really, Kurt," Dave urged. "Be honest."

Kurt sighed and tucked his legs up closer to his body. "Well, honestly, I want to go back to school."

"Back to school?" Dave looked from the TV to Kurt. "You finished though, right? You got your art degree."

"But I was studying fashion, Dave. Art is my one true love, but really wanted to do that. I still design in my free time. It was my dream to debut in during fashion week, but I don't think my skills are strong enough as they are now. In an ideal world, I'd go back to school, get my fashion degree, and then co-design clothing to match my artwork."

"That sounds cool."

"I want to work full time," Kurt insisted, " even if it's from home. And I want to be able to put LB in the best day care center. There was one back where we lived, it was wonderful, but there's an even better one here. Their credentials are flawless, and they have a great track record for getting their attendees into the most prestigious preschool in the area. That means getting into a good elementary school. I want the best for him, Dave. I want him to have all the opportunity in the world to succeed. Blaine and I promised each other that when he was born."

"You'll get there." Dave kissed Kurt's temple. "You'll be able to do all that, Kurt. We just have to be patient."

Kurt leaned up to brush his lips against Dave's chin. "Mostly, I just want to be able to use LB's name again. To use my name. I was stupid at the clinic, I forgot myself for a moment. I used Hummel there, and if it ever got out … it was stupid. So stupid."

Dave hushed him with a kiss. "You're fine," Dave insisted. "We don't share our information with a larger database. Your name is completely confidential. Now, stop worrying, I think we're about to make out."

Kurt groaned and kissed him deeper, mouth parting easily. Kurt's hand sloped in to rest on Dave's thigh and the larger man rallied by pressing Kurt down on the sofa. It was so easy to overpower him, to tip Kurt backwards and use Dave's body weight to pin him in place. Too easy and just what Dave had been craving. Kissing was nice, but as Dave rutted against him, he could feel Kurt's hardness, and a promise of something better.

"Wait," Kurt breathed out. "Dave."

"No talking," Dave murmured. He worked his way down the long column of Kurt's throat, kissing and licking and sucking, before settling at the juncture at his collar bone. "Let me work." He was determined, absolutely determined, to suck his mark into Kurt's skin. The next time Kurt wore a simple shirt with an open neck, Dave wanted to be able to see his mark. He wanted to know that Kurt was his, and wanted him in return.

"Dave." Kurt arched up against him, back bowing out.

And then Dave was on the floor. Stunned, Dave braced himself on his hands and knees and looked up at Kurt. "Did I … did I hurt you?" The look on Kurt's face was horrible and Dave felt his stomach heave. Kurt was looking at him with a flushed face, wide eyes, and a look of sheer panic.

"I can't." Kurt threw his legs to the side and sat up. "I'm sorry, Dave. I can't."

"You seemed okay with it." Dave came up to his knees completely. "I don't think I imagined you getting hard, right?" He felt angry. He felt frustrated and angry and he didn't think he'd read Kurt wrong. Kurt had kissed him back. He'd let Dave lay him down. "What's going on?"

"I just can't," Kurt said, closing down before Dave's eyes.

"Well, you need to clue me in." Dave grumbled, "Because I feel like I'm getting jerked around, okay? You want to kiss me and hold my hand, and be a couple, but you don't want to go any further? I wouldn't think twice about that if we hadn't already done it, but you know that's not the case."

Kurt returned Dave's anger and said sharply, "And I said that was a mistake. Weren't you listening?"

"What's wrong with you?" Dave demanded. "Is this what I can continue to look forward to? Your conscience continuing to cock block us? Will you never want to go further?"

"My conscience?" Kurt stood and smoothed out his clothes. Dave knew immediately that meant they were done kissing for the day, maybe for a much longer time. "You know exactly what the matter is. Dave, you know what kind of baggage I'm coming into this with. You have to let me go as slow as I need!"

"You moaned!" Dave stood. "I kissed you. I gave you a hickey. I moaned, and you were okay with it. Don't give me that bullshit about wanting to go slow. I just hit a major roadblock with you. If you're not ready, then your not ready, but I'm not going to be constantly pushed aside because of a dead guy!"

Dave knew that was what it was. He knew without Kurt having to say anything.

"He's my husband!"

They were shouting at each other then, and Dave added, "He's dead, Kurt! He's dead. He's dead and you won't let yourself move on. You can't be sexual with me because you see it as some kind of betrayal to him."

Kurt rounded on his sharply. "You think I don't know that he's dead? I wake up to that fact every day. But you've never been in love before, I can see it on your face as plain as day, and it's evidence by the way you are with me. But I was in love with him. I would have died for him, in his place. I would have. I gave my virginity to him, Dave, my heart and my soul. I gave up everything for him, and was prepared to spend the rest of my life with him. That's the kind of love that doesn't just stop being there because one half of the equation is dead. I still love him Dave. I do, and I won't feel ashamed of that."

"I won't play second fiddle!"

LB began to cry sharply and Dave knew they'd been too loud. The shrieking was horrible and it made Dave wince.

"We've been going fast," Kurt said, his voice low and nearly a whisper. "We've been going too fast. We still don't understand each other. You don't understand me."

LB continued to scream and Dave felt his anger fading into exhaustion. "No, what I don't understand is how you can continue to live in the past. Not when I'm right here. I know I'm not your one true love. I know I'm just some guy who made sure your kid was safe and wanted to buy you lunch. I'm no one, Kurt, a reformed high school bully who volunteers in an attempt to make up for his shitty karma, and has never really accepted himself in the way that you have. I'm heavier than the average guy, I'm probably going to be bald by the time I'm forty, and I'm pretty much married to my job. I'm not Prince Charming, but I am here, and I'm caring for you, and for LB, and I'm probably going to love you very shortly. Why can't that be enough? I don't get it. I'm not the best catch out there, but I'm standing here, telling you I'll do anything for you, and you don't want it."

"You're a wonderful person, Dave, but-"

"But I'm not Blaine Anderson."

Kurt ran a hand through his hair. "I told you before, I'm still in love with him. I meant it."

"Then what is this?" Dave asked, gesturing between the two of them. "What are we? Am I a security blanket to you? Were you ever planning on letting us be more than casual?"

Kurt started off down the hall. "I need to go get him."

Dave found himself left standing alone in the living room. It was hard to breathe, and Dave felt his shoulders slump. He'd wanted so much from Kurt, maybe too much, but he'd never planned to take more than Kurt was willing to give. He'd been prepared to go as slow as Kurt wanted, but Dave hadn't expected them to be stagnate. Dave couldn't deal with being second best to Kurt. He couldn't be out shone by a dead guy. Dave needed a real relationship, and not what Kurt obviously wanted.

Kurt came back into the living room with a sniffling LB and the baby's things packed up in the ever faithful baby bag. "I think we're going to go now. We need some space from each other, Dave. We're not just having a miscommunication."

"We're not having any communication," Dave said darkly.

LB leaned out desperately for Dave but Kurt spun away, heading for the door. "We need to be apart. That's all. I'm sorry. Give me some space."

"Fine," Dave snapped. "I'll drive you home."

"Don't bother. We'll take the bus."

LB began screaming again as Kurt left through the door.

Dave wanted to run after them. He wanted to scoop LB up and shush him, and make it all better for him. He wanted to hug Kurt tightly, and promise they'd work out some kind of compromise. He didn't want to live with the reality that Kurt had just left him, and probably wouldn't be back. In fact he wanted to do anything but stand there dumbly, frozen in place and shaken to the core.

But that was what he did. He stood there. He watched the shut door, desperate to think that Kurt would change his mind and come back.

Kurt wasn't coming back. Dave tried the idea on for size. It sucked.

Pushing Kurt to the back of his mind was easy for the first forty-eight hours. The first day after Kurt had stormed out, there was a huge pileup on a nearby freeway. Dave found himself woken at an ungodly hour to a bus full of people needing his help. He pulled a double that day, wore himself thin, barely stopped to eat, and then crashed in the hospital's lounge area. The whole day was a blur.

The second day Dave had a full shift at the hospital, went straight to the clinic, and then spent the entire evening cleaning his apartment from head to toe. It was a habit of his, something he'd picked up from his mother, and obsessively cleaned the rim of his toilet with a spare toothbrush. Schue called him later that night, or maybe early the next morning, complaining again about his wife, and slept on Dave's couch while Dave dusted manically.

In the morning, on the third day, Dave sighed and told his boss, "If Terry makes you so crazy, why don't you get a divorce? You know Nurse Emma has been in love, or maybe just lust, with you for years."

Schue had the decency to look bashful as he said, "It's hard to explain, Dave. But it kind of comes down to this: the people that make you the most crazy, they're the ones you love the most, the ones you can't live without, the ones that make you the happiest. It doesn't make any sense, I know, but it comes with the territory. We're just working through a tough patch right now. It'll get better. She's my wife." They were trying for a baby, Dave knew that much. He thought it was a bad idea, but kept his thoughts to himself.

Day three was harder. Dave passed by the florist shop and thought of the flowers he'd bought Kurt. He grabbed a late morning coffee and remembered how Kurt liked his.
And then he saw a series of worried mothers at the clinic, all of them with babies that looked suspiciously too much like LB.

After that, Dave felt anxious. He worked his way through the rest of the week with a sense of unease. Everything reminded him of Kurt. Everything caused a pit of sadness in the pit of his stomach. Each moment of each day was more painful than the last, and he missed Kurt so terribly.

Tina said, "You're miserable."

Quinn remarked, "You're just a sad little lost puppy."

And Puck offered, "I can go get him. Just say the word. I saw him. I think I could get him over my shoulder and drag him in here kicking and screaming if you want. The baby is optional."

Sunday, a full week after the fallout, Dave headed to the main shopping area of the city to try and take his mind off everything. He caught a movie, had lunch, and was doing a little shopping when he heard a baby cry. He heard babies cry all day long, but this cry was different. Dave knew this cry. It was LB's cry. Dave had only heard it once, but it was engrained in his brain as the worst sound in the world.

When Dave turned the corner he expected to see Kurt, maybe shushing LB, maybe just letting him cry himself out, but certainly Kurt with LB. What he saw instead was an average looking teenager. It took Dave a few moments to realize there was a guy, maybe sixteen years old, dressed casually, with a baby bag slung over one shoulder and LB crying against the other. There was a man Dave didn't know holding LB, and Kurt was nowhere to be found.

He was dashing forward before he knew what he was doing. And the moment he saw LB, LB saw him. The baby continued to cry, sniffling ever so often, but he visibly calmed, and a tiny hand reached out for him.

"Hey!" the teen shrieked.

But Dave had LB. It had been easy to pluck the baby out of weary arms. LB smashed his face into Dave's side, hands fishing at Dave's shirt, and sobbed quietly. "I'm here," Dave told LB. "I'm here, little guy. Calm down. You're alright."

"Help!" Dave winced a bit as the teen began turning in a circle, shouting loudly. "Someone help! Kidnapping!"

Dave's eyes widened. The security officer rushing their way probably wasn't a good thing.

Dave did, for what little good it did, try and explain who he was to security. He tried to tell them that he was a friend of Kurt's, and he'd settled on that distinction after refusing to say that he was likely Kurt's ex now. But the teenager Dave had taken LB from was shrieking madly about Kurt having given the baby to him earlier that day, and how he'd never seen Dave before, and how there was no chance that Dave had any kind of valid claim to LB.

Dave did, however, have several pictures stuffed into his wallet. He showed them candidly, balancing a quiet but clearly unstable LB on one hip. They'd given the baby back to him the moment it had been clear that LB was prepared to scream and fistfight anyone who wasn't Dave.

"This is us at the playground," Dave said, tapping a picture of Dave's large form smashed into a tiny slide, LB on his lap. "And us finger painting, and last week, when we went to the supermarket and there was one of those stupid instant picture booths by the exit." LB munched happily on the collar of Dave's shirt. "Call Kurt," he said finally. "I'll give you his phone number if you didn't get it from the kid having a stroke over there. He'll tell you who I am. He'll tell you LB is safe with me."

While they called Kurt, Dave swayed with LB, so thankful to have the slight weight of the baby back in his arms.

The teenager watched him suspiciously, and kept the baby bag clutched to his chest.

When Kurt arrived at the shopping center's security station he was flustered, hair all pushed around and clearly not in a good mood. He moved directly to the teenager who said, "I'm really sorry. He just took LB from me. I tried to stop him, but he said … I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Kurt said, not yet meeting Dave's eyes. He bracketed the teens arms. "You did fine. It's okay, Jeremy. They already called your mother, right? Go ahead and wait for her out in the main office. I've got to talk with Dave."

Dave's mouth was impossibly dry. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage to say anything to Kurt.

"Well?" Kurt asked, hands on his hips as he turned to Dave. His mouth was set in a straight line and his eyes narrowed. Dave felt reprimanded already, and he'd hardly gotten to the start of what he knew as coming. "What's your excuse?"

"Umm." Dave looked down at LB who was batting his eyelashes sleepily. "I thought someone was trying to kidnap LB?"

"So you responded by also trying to kidnap him?"

"Look." Dave sighed. "I heard him crying. You know LB. This is one happy baby. If he's unhappy, he has this look, but not a cry. He hardly ever cries. So I heard him crying and I just acted on autopilot. I thought something was wrong. I thought he was in trouble. I was trying to help."

Kurt's fingers tapped against his hips. "So you ended up scaring my babysitter nearly into a heart attack? Jeremy is fifteen, Dave. He's a little shaky on his feet to begin with, but he's got a good head on his shoulders and he took looking after LB very seriously. He's LB's babysitter, Dave. That's who you snatched a baby from. You'll be lucky if there isn't a class action lawsuit around the corner waiting for you. Emotional damages, and all."

"I'm sorry," Dave said gruffly, "that I handled it the way I did. But I'm not sorry for reacting. You can't make me be sorry for that."

Kurt was quiet for a moment, then reached out to put a hand softly on LB's back. "I can't say I approve. But, I'm glad you reacted, too. I understand, and I'm not mad about that."

There was an odd awkwardness between them that hadn't existed before, and Dave hated it. He passed LB easily over to Kurt and then said, "Can I buy you a cup of coffee? I really want to talk to you. The truth is, I've been going crazy this past week without you. I really need to talk to you, actually."

Kurt held LB's bag out to Dave. "You can buy me a six dollar cup of coffee. I know a place."

"I knew you would," Dave said quietly.

"I bet you're wondering why Jeremy was watching LB, right?" It was the first thing Kurt said to them after they had their coffee.

Dave nodded. It seemed the biggest mystery. Kurt didn't work. He painted a lot, but there was nothing that Dave knew that took Kurt out of the apartment for long, or away from LB. "I did."

Kurt's long fingers curled around his coffee cup. He revealed, "Yesterday, and then again today, I've been meeting with a lawyer. The lawyer I expect with represent me in court, actually. I've been familiarizing him with my case. It's taking some time. I want him to be prepared."

"A lawyer," Dave parroted.

"I have to be in court in two weeks," Kurt said.

"For LB." Dave looked to the baby who was watching the coffee shop patrons with a slack jaw. "For custody of him."

"The determining court date," Kurt confirmed. "And I couldn't bring LB with me. I couldn't chance it, especially not the second day. I'm going on the record here with this lawyer. I'm easily traceable. If I brought LB with me, there was always the chance that she'd be there too."

She. Blaine's mother. The very woman who made Kurt shudder and Dave angry.

"I'm sorry!" Dave blurted out.

Kurt glanced around at the outburst. "Sorry?"

"Shit, Kurt, I'm sorry."

"Language," Kurt shushed him.

Dave ignored the reprimand and said, "I pushed you too hard. I made myself look like a fool when you weren't ready. I hurt you and I'm sorry."

Kurt shook his head. "You knew it wasn't about being ready. You knew and you were right when you pointed that out to me. I was trying to use it as a defense, but you saw through it. It was never about taking our relationship to a sexual level, we'd already done that."

"It was about Blaine." Dave's eyes settled on LB. Kurt often said that LB was a perfect reflection of Blaine, and Dave tried to imagine it. He tried to conjure up an idea of what LB would look like in twenty years, and then put Blaine's name to his face.

"Yes." Kurt traced the insignia on his coffee cup. "It'll always be about him. And that scares me."

Dave said slowly, "You know, it's not a betrayal to move on. It's not a shady move for you to want to be happy again."

"But how can I give you what you deserve if I'm still in love with him?" Then it was Kurt's turn to look at LB. "He was my husband. He's the father of my son. I will never stop loving him, Dave, and that isn't fair to you."

After a second, Dave asked, "When you kiss me, do you think you're kissing Blaine?" Kurt looked startled and Dave clarified, "Do you pretend that I'm Blaine? When I wrap you up in my arms, and hold you tight, can you just pretend I'm Blaine? When I kiss you, would you rather be kissing Blaine? When we go places and do things and people think we're a family, are you just using me as a substitute and trying to trick your heart into thinking I'm someone else?"

"Never," Kurt breathed out. "You've always been Dave, right from the beginning. There are a lot of things that you do that remind me of Blaine. There are some mannerisms, and mostly the way you treat me and LB, but I know you're not him."

Dave caught Kurt's hand. "I wasn't mad at you for loving Blaine, Kurt. I could never be mad at you for that."

"It's not fair to-"

"Why don't you let me decide what I think is fair." Dave shrugged. "After all, I'm the one who could get his feelings hurt. I just want you to understand, Kurt, I don't want to replace Blaine. I don't want his memories to fade from your mind. I don't want you to stop loving him. I just want you to give me a chance. I want you to tell me I have the potential to matter to you just as much."

"Maybe," Kurt hedged, "We could try this again?"

That was how, by some miraculous was, Dave ended up at Kurt's for the night. He had an early shift at the clinic the next morning, but he couldn't have passed up the opportunity for anything. He and Kurt made dinner side by side, played with LB until the baby was exhausted, and then cuddled together on the couch.

Then, as Dave was preparing to stretch out and settle in for the night on the sofa, Kurt held out a hand to him and said, "I think you'll be more comfortable with me."

Dave looked at his hand, then asked seriously, "Are you sure? Or do you just want to be?"

"Yes," Kurt said firmly. "Come to bed with me."

Crawling into Kurt's bed was better than Dave had imagined it could be. The mattress was firm, but plush, and Kurt had more than enough bedding that Dave could wrap himself into a cocoon of warmth. He tugged Kurt down next to him and then sighed contently as Kurt wiggled a moment, getting comfortable.

"I can't say I won't freak out like that again," Kurt said in the stillness of the bedroom. "I get these flashes, Dave, like memories, and they feel so real. I can really imaging that I'm back with Blaine, and it's him I'm kissing and him I'm with. I'm not saying I pretend he's you, I'm saying I really believe he's there. And then it's startling when I realize that he's gone, and it's you. It's hard, sometimes. So I'm not making any promises. In fact, I probably will freak on you again.

Dave draped an arm over his waist. "I'm an expert at people freaking out. Don't worry about it. You're worth it."

Kurt's mouth moved against his right away, soft and easy, kissing him without a hurry. Dave responded by leveling himself up, and pressing down on Kurt.

"I don't want to fight again," Kurt breathed against his lips. "It felt horrible."

"But we get to have sort of make up sex, without the sex."

Kurt caught Dave's wrist. "I'm not a prude. I'm not stringing you along. I will give it up to you."

Dave pecked him on the lips. "I'm an asshole for insinuating that you were. I don't care about the sex, Kurt. I mean, it would be nice, but I'd rather have the intimacy. I have my right hand if I'm feeling a little pent up. I just want you, right now, right here and with me. When you want to do it, I'm there in a second. Until then, I'm cool."

Kurt kissed him a final time, then pressed his head against Dave's chest. "I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

Dave wanted to hold him so tight neither could breathe. He wanted to wrap around Kurt and shield him and make him believe that Dave was in it for the long haul, and ready and willing to wait it out. He settled for kissing Kurt's head and sliding their feet together.

"I can't give you up, Kurt." Dave promised, "You're stuck with me."

Kurt burrowed in closer.

"Paint for me."

"Excuse me?"

Breakfast was not Dave's specialty. Dave's specialty was remembering Kurt's coffee order and knowing exactly when to pick it up to avoid the longer lines and keep it from getting cold before it got back to Kurt. But, on occasion, Dave had been known to make an okay plate of eggs. At least he'd been told, and it was a risk he was willing to take.

"Also," Dave added, "You have bed head."

Across from him at the kitchen table, Kurt gave an immature poke of his tongue and sat LB on his lap, handing off a recently warmed bottle to the baby. "I will not be judged on this hair."

Dave held up his hands in surrender. "Don't shoot me over an observation."

Kurt looked sour. "You know how I feel about my hair. Telling me I have bed head is like kicking a man when he's down. It's uncouth."

"Uncouth?" Dave wasn't completely sure he knew what the definition of the word was, but he could hazard a guess it wasn't a great reflection on Dave. "No, I think you're adorable. That's about it. And I meant what I said. I want you to paint for me."

Kurt hugged into the warmth of his coffee mug. "What? Like this very second?"

"No." Dave fluffed his eggs, then turned off the heat. "After breakfast."

Dave nudge his spatula toward the clear doors of the nearby patio. "It's going to be a nice, clear day. It's perfect for you to paint."

"I have been feeling the urge," Kurt admitted. "But Dave, I've already painted for you."

Setting a plate of yellow eggs in front of Kurt, Dave took his own seat. To him, Kurt really did look adorable. But he'd looked even better that morning, naked, folded up in Dave's arms and completely dead to the world.

Dave reached over and grabbed one of LB's tinny hands. The baby giggled loudly as he flung his hand around, trying to discharge Dave. He blew spit bubbles at Dave and the look on Kurt's face said he wasn't pleased by the wad of drool now sliding down the baby bib.

"You painted me. You haven't painted for me. There's a difference. I want to watch the master work. And I think it could be therapeutic for you. Maybe you should paint how the lawyer made you feel, or Blaine's mother. You know, get it out."

"I'd probably need a canvas the size of a garage door if I wanted to get it all out," Kurt said. "But it's not that I'm letting all my nervousness build up inside of me. I'm not keeping it down. I let it out like an average person. I just choose who I let see me doing that."

Dave leaned across the table and kissed the corner of Kurt's mouth. "Finish your breakfast, babe, and then we'll go paint something. You can show me how it's done."

"Don't kiss me again," Kurt warned, a finger up to add to his tone.

"Why not?" Dave asked, not affronted.

"You know," Kurt mumbled. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get it to lay down properly. "When you kiss me you make it very difficult for me to tell you no."

"Like my version of your puppy dog eyes?"

Kurt took a bite of his eggs, chewed thoroughly, and then said, "I do not have puppy dog eyes."

It took another forty-five minutes to talk Kurt into it. But by the time the morning was getting late, the three of them were out on the terrace balcony and Kurt was setting up.

"I should just put him in the corner?" Dave asked, LB in his arms. He thumbed towards a corner portion of the shaded area of the balcony that had several oversized pillows and a ridiculous amount of toys clustered around.

Kurt waved a hand in acknowledgement, sorting through his paints.

Dave deposited LB down onto a soft pillow and said, "Shouldn't there be a baby barricade out here or somewhere? Aren't you terrified something could happen?"

"Look around." Kurt arched an elbow. "LB is a crawling machine, but he's not walking yet. And even if he were, these walls are way too high. There's nowhere to go. And trust me, he'll be distracted for hours with his toys. Depending on how long we take, he could take a nap, too."

"Okay," Dave said slowly, making his way to Kurt. "So teach me, Picasso."

Kurt hummed. "I don't paint like Picasso. Then again, I'm not sure you weren't just name dropping there to try and sound smart."

"I took art appreciation in high school," Dave protested. "We learned the big names."

"Well," Kurt insisted, "I don't paint like him. I paint like me."

Dave moved directly behind Kurt. His big hands bracketed Kurt's slender hips and his mouth was on Kurt's ear as he asked, "How do you paint?"

Kurt's hand waved a little, and Dave felt a rush. He'd caused the shudder. His hands on Kurt's hips had done that, his thumb stroking under Kurt's shirt was responsible. He thought for a second that he could make Kurt come apart in front of him. He could make Kurt desperate and wonton. Only, he really did want to see Kurt paint. It hadn't been a front.

"It's all about the strokes." Kurt was breathy, and when Dave's fingers pressed harder against his skin, his voice hitched. He corrected, "Brush strokes. It's all about the brush strokes."

"Delicate or firm?" Dave asked into his ear.

"Dave," Kurt whined a little.

"No, tell me. Do you stroke delicate, or firm?"

And damn, this was not the way Dave had wanted thing to go. He hadn't meant to get so turned on. It had just happened, in part because Kurt was just so intoxicating. And all of the sudden painting seemed like a giant euphemism for sex.

The way that Kurt perky bottom pushed back on Dave's growing erection wasn't helpful in the least bit.

"I … I stroke firmly." Kurt's head tipped back on Dave' shoulder and any semblance of self control flew out of the window. He could see Kurt's long pale neck, and feel the intensity of Kurt as he pushed back on Dave.

"Kurt," he said seriously, "we have to stop this now."

"You want to?"

"No," Dave hissed. "You know I don't. But I don't want to … I won't push you. I …"

"I haven't freaked out yet."

"No." Dave said, voice leaving no room for disagreement. "I want you, Kurt. I want you so bad I think my balls are going to fall off in the near future. But I also want you when the time is right, and outside on your balcony, with LB twenty feet away, is not the perfect time. Now, no more teasing. I'm going to have to think about my eleventh grade math teacher to get my erection down."

Kurt's eyes closed and he sighed. "You're a good man, Dave."

"A fucking saint."

This time, Kurt didn't shush his language.

"Here," Kurt said, a few minutes later when they'd both calmed down. They were back in front of the canvas and once more Dave stood behind Kurt. This time, however, he had one hand loosely at Kurt's side, and was holding a paint brush with the other. Kurt's fingers curled around his and guided the brush to a jar of paint. "Like I was saying, Dave, for me, it's all about the strokes."

Dave bit his tongue this time.

"Some painters are about the overall aesthetic. Some of them are concerned with balance and color pallet and theme. For me, it's all about the method."

"Paint how we first met," Dave requested.

He was surprised when Kurt guided the brush over to the black paint. Then together they mad quick, strong brush strokes in jagged motions. The canvas filled quickly with angles and thick lines.

"It looks angry," Dave observed.

Kurt shook his head. "No. Scared. I was scared. I was scared for LB and I was scared for me. When I'm scared or uneasy or nervous, this is what my painting looks like. But wait, this is what happened."

Dave's hand dipped into water and Kurt handed him a new brush. The new brush was finer, and this time it was dipped in yellow.

"They say black is the hardest color to cover up," Kurt explained, "yet another reason for parents not to let their emo teenagers paint their rooms black during goth stages of adolescence. But for me, for what the black lines represent, I don't want to cover them up. They make me who I am. I'm not ashamed of my fears. And if you work at it long enough, if you take the time and energy, the yellow can compliment the black. It can make it so you don't have to cover the black up."

Kurt's fingers pushed Dave's hand with the brush along. Where the black had been jagged and forceful, the yellow comprised lazy, slow curves. The yellow blotted in between the black softly, winding around, dabbing and like Kurt had said, fitting in perfectly.

Dave asked, "What is the yellow?"

"Hope. Bravery. Courage. Take your pick. They all mean the same thing to me. They mean what you represented to me in that clinic. You couldn't get rid of my fears completely, I was still very worried, but you gave me hope that they would pass in time, and that things would be okay."

Dave sensed it the moment they were finished. By the time they had, a few lines of green had joined the canvas, and a splash of purple. Dave couldn't pretend to know what it all meant, but Kurt was obviously pleased with the way it had turned out. Dave's arms wrapped around him completely and Kurt melted back into the embrace.

"I think," Kurt said slowly, "it's my favorite."

"I want to buy it from you."

Kurt's head tilted so he could see him. "Buy it? Dave."

"Don't begrudge me, Kurt. I'm a playing client, and when I see something I like, I'll do whatever it takes to get it."

Kurt's hands settled over Dave's arms circling his waist. "What if I want to charge a million dollars for it? It's my favorite, after all. I may not want to part with it so easily."

Dave blanched. "A million dollars? Will you take a check?"

"Actually, I have the perfect, preferred method of payment."

"Now why does that worry me?"

The day really was beautiful, so they left LB outside after they'd packed up all of the painting supplies, and then washed up in the master bedroom. Kurt scrubbed paint out form under his nails and said, "I need you to come to dinner with me tomorrow night. Can you get it off from the hospital with such short notice?"

Dave supposed it sort of sounded like Kurt was asking him out for a casual dinner, but there was something in his tone that said otherwise.

"I can probably get Artie to switch with me. Or maybe Sam. It's not a big deal. I never take time off, I think I can manage tomorrow. Why? I know we can't have an anniversary already."

Kurt dabbed another glob of soap onto Dave's hands and scrubbed more firmly at his own. "My dad is coming to town."

That threw Dave for a loop. "Your dad?" Kurt had mentioned him a couple of times, said he owned a car shop, but Kurt had always been tight lipped about his family and where he came from. "As in-"

"As in my father, Dave. My dad. The man who raised me. He's coming into town tomorrow and I want us all to go out and eat. You're a part of my life now, and you're important to me. I want him to know that. I need him to."

Dave gulped. "I have to admit, I didn't think I'd be meeting the folks just yet."

"Just my dad. I'm pretty sure my stepmom is going to be up at OSU. My stepbrother coaches up there. He played there when he was a student. My stepmom goes up there every year around this time to make sure Finn's taking care of his players. Or maybe that the players are taking care of Finn. It's hard to say. It's a mom thing Or a nurse thing. Again, hard to say. The point is, she goes to stay with Finn, and my dad usually stays with me. This year, regardless of where I am, is no exception."

Dave hip checked Kurt gently out of the way and began to wash his hands free of the soap. "What's your dad like?"

"Like a dad?"

"Be serious."

Kurt stilled, and a smile crept up on his face. "The best dad in the world." He dismissed, "I know most kids think their dad is the best in the world, but really, mine is about a mile ahead of theirs."

"You guys are close," Dave observed.

Kurt retrieved a dry cloth from a nearby rack for himself, and then passed one to Dave. He told the male nurse, "When I say the best, I mean the best. He's the kind of dad that kids go their whole life wishing they had. You know, I was just a kid when he knew. About me, that is."

"About you being gay?"

Kurt nodded. "My dad is a Midwestern guy's guy. He's a blue collar, beer drinking, football watching, stereotypical guy. That's who he is. He has an auto shop and he spends a good portion his day covered in grease, loving every second of it. But for me, for his kid, he attended tea parties. He played dress up. He suffered awkwardly at the shoe store. And he never once asked me to compromise who I am to make it easier on him. He encouraged me to be happy, and to be myself. The truth is, he knew way before me. He knew I was gay. He didn't try and change me. Dave, he didn't even try and get me to admit it. He waited patiently, until I was ready. Then, when I told him, he hugged me, and he said he still loved me."

"That's pretty awesome," Dave remarked.

"He bought me a Maria bonnet. That's more than just awesome."

Dave followed Kurt out to pick up LB. He tipped his head back to soak up the warmth of the sun. It felt great.

"I've always been able to talk to him about anything," Kurt explained, bending to gather LB's toys back up into their designated basket. "He gave me advice when I thought I'd never have a boyfriend, and then gave me the talk when I finally had one. Dave, my father gave me the sex talk. I think it's safe to say it was the most traumatizing moment of my life, but the hardest of his. But he did it anyway, because he's my father."

Dave sighed. "I guess I know where you got it from, then. I'd love to meet him. But he's not … going to be … how do I say this delicately …"

"He's always been a little overprotective," Kurt said, instinctively picking up on Dave's train of thought. "I'm all he had for a while, and he had to watch for a long time as people tried to degrade me and hurt me and just make my life a living hell. He had Blaine terrified for a long time. But there's a secret to my dad, and I'm going to let you in on it. Top secret, actually."

Eyes a bit wide, Dave said, "I'm all ears. Anything to make this go well."

"Be honest. My dad will always be honest with you. You'll earn his respect by being honest back. And I don't really think that's such a big request, when you think about it."

Dave scoffed. "So when your shotgun wielding father asks me if I've deflowered his baby boy, I'm supposed to tell him yes?"

"He's far more likely to have his hunting rifle, Dave."

"That's not funny, Kurt."

Kurt carried LB inside and Dave trailed after them, hearing Kurt say, "And more importantly he won't ask you if we're having sex. He's on a need to know basis with that, and trust me, he doesn't need to know. Neither is it possible for you to have deflowered me. I'll also ignore the underlying assumption of my femininity or your implied chauvinism. Dave, he'll ask you the important stuff, but not what you're scared of. You'll be fine. I promise."

"Okay. But I want something in return."

Kurt thumbed back at the patio. "The painting, right? I'll part with it, in exchange for you enduring my father."

"No. Something else."

Kurt's eyebrows went high. LB dipped backwards and Dave moved instinctively to help right him in Kurt's arms. The baby was too wiggly for Dave's sanity. The first time LB had twisted around and Dave had been holding him, he'd been scared out of his mind he'd lose his grip. He was more confident now, but just as careful.

"And what's that?"

Dave had been debating asking Kurt for a while, long since before they'd taken their break. But he hadn't been as sure now, as then, that it was the right step for them to take. So he mustered his courage, and said, "Once a year, right before the weather goes bad, the hospital staff sponsor a charity picnic. We pick a new cause to raise money for each year. This year it's ovarian cancer. And every year I write the hospital a check and duck out." Dave awkwardly met Kurt's eyes. "It's a family picnic. You're supposed to bring you family with you and next to my dad, I don't have any family. But I want to … I want to ask you to come with me this year, Kurt. You and LB."

"For the hospital?"

Dave waved a hand. "It's this really uptight event, you know. Where all these people get together and try and see who can raise the most money, or write the biggest chest. Most of my coworkers are complete assholes when it comes to this sort of thing, and I kind of get snubbed by them every year. They write me off every year, and every year, I confirm their words by not showing up. I want it to be different this year. I want to have someone to bring, and to show up and show the hospital that I can be there to support the cause the same as anyone else."

Flatly, Kurt said, "So you want to use myself and LB to thumb your nose at your coworkers."

"No!" Dave brought his voice down right away. "I want to … god, this is so embarrassing. Kurt, I want to show you off."

Kurt's face shifted right away, and he was delighted as he teased, "You want to show us off? Why Dave, be careful, someone might think you actually like us."

Dave blushed. "I want to take you and LB to the picnic, and show you off. I want to call you my own, and show people that. I know that makes me sound selfish and juvenile, but it's what I want. So ,will you go with me?"

Kurt took a step closer to Dave and leaned up to kiss him. "Fair enough. You do for me, and I'll do for you."

"But for the record," Dave said, poking Kurt in the chest, "I'm asking you to play nice with a bunch of high society, completely pretentious doctors and nurses. You're asking me to handle your firearm carrying father. I think you can clearly see the difference."

LB gave a high squeal and immediately began to stink. Kurt cocked his head for a moment, then handing LB to Dave. "I think, Dave, if you can handle your coworkers, you can also handle a diaper change."

Dave held LB at arm's length. "Naturally. I guess karma wants to play nice for once and give me a boyfriend like you."

Kurt looked affronted for a moment, then questioned, "You mention that a lot."

"Mention what?"

"Karma."

Dave unfolded LB's portable changing table from his baby bag as he walked towards the guest bedroom. He set the baby down on the bed and turned to Kurt. "You have your secrets, and I have mine."

"But I told you my secret." Kurt helped scoot the baby down. "What's yours? You think you have bad karma?"

Unsnapping LB's onesie, Dave said awkwardly, "I guess I'm a nice guy now. I mean, I try to be. I don't get worked up over things, and I don't sweat the small stuff. I try not to judge people, and I keep my nose clean of everyone's business except for my own. But I wasn't always like this."

"People grow up," Kurt said easily.

Dave told him tersely, "I was a bully." When Kurt's jaw slackened, Dave added, "In high school, I was a complete asshole bully. I was on the football team and me and the other guys thought we were better than everyone else. We felt entitled. So we made it our business to pick on kids, and make them fear us. We did it for fun. We did it for the sake of causing someone else pain and sadness. That's the definition of an asshole, Kurt. Not a teenager. There's a difference."

"Oh," Kurt said quietly, letting LB tug on his fingers as Dave changed the diaper.

"There was one kid," Dave said, swallowing hard. "One kid who was like you are, Kurt. Out and not hiding it. He didn't dress flashy, or draw unwanted attention to himself, but he was honest about who he was. He had a boyfriend who was home schooled. We all knew, and we gave him extra shit just because of it."

Kurt bent to kiss LB's forehead. "I don't blame you for what you did as a teenager. I'm not holding that against you now, as an adult. I don't think you need to feel so guilty. Clearly you aren't the same person."

Dave finished quickly. "You don't understand, Kurt. I made this kid my personal victim. I teased and tormented and hurt him. I made him cry and I made him bleed."

"Why?" Kurt asked quietly, looking at him with suspiciously wet eyes.

"He was gay, Kurt. He was gay and he loved himself. I was less than heterosexual and hated myself. That's why. He was able to love exactly who he was, and I could barely accept the idea that I wanted to be intimate with a man. It drove me crazy and it drove me to hurt him."

Dave could see Kurt's hands shaking and he hated that he'd told him. It seemed a mistake all at once.

"I'm so sorry, Dave."

"Kurt!" Dave had his arms full of the other man suddenly. Kurt's arms were strong and unwavering around his neck as he hugged him tightly. Kurt's nose pressed into Dave's neck and he breathed deeply. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt repeated, voice muffled a little. "I'm sorry you never had anyone who told you that it was okay to just be yourself. I'm sorry you had to hate someone who had the courage to love themselves."

Dave's arms came up around Kurt and he placed them on his back gently. "I can never make up for what I did, Kurt. I can't. I'm going to have bad karma for the rest of my life."

"Nothing is unforgivable, Dave."

Dave felt his eyes stinging as he told Kurt, "That kid, Kurt, the one that I harassed, I pushed him to his limit. And then I pushed him past it."

"What happened?" Kurt whispered his question.

Dave felt the swift kick of LB's tiny foot against his thigh and he gathered Kurt up even tighter, terrified of what he was about to say.

"Dave?"

Rough and sharp, Dave's voice shook as he said, "He killed himself, Kurt. I pushed him into a bank of lockers, told him he should be ashamed of himself, that he didn't deserve to live, and he went home and hung himself in his closet. That's what happened, Kurt, and I'm never going to be able to make up for that. Never."

"Stop fidgeting." Kurt's fingers brushed through Dave's hair. "And bend down a little more. I'm wearing my flats today."

Dave huffed. "I still think I should wear a suit. Or a tie. Anything better than this."

Kurt's hands stilled. "You look great. I picked this outfit out for you myself. Have a little faith in my abilities."

"But I'm meeting your dad." Dave gestured to his polo shirt. "Your dad, Kurt."

"And he's more casual than you can imagine. You forget, I've already seen him today, when I gave him LB for the morning. He's wearing jeans and a shirt that I'm sure is at least a few years old. He won't care what you're wearing Dave."

"I care," Dave mumbled. "And if he doesn't care, why are you messing with my hair so much?"

Kurt arched an eyebrow an gave him a quick kiss. "Because I care. Now hold still. I made reservations for us at one. We need to leave soon if we're going to meet my Dad and LB there on time."

Kurt pulled away but Dave caught his wrist, keeping him close. With a frown, Dave asked, "What if he doesn't like me?"

"He will, don't worry."

"No." Dave gave a more serious tug on Kurt's wrist. "What if he doesn't? Kurt, you're important to me. I really want him to like me. And it's going to cause you nothing but anxiety if he doesn't."

Kurt's top teeth gnawed down on his bottom lip for a moment, then he told Dave firmly, "I know my dad better than anyone else. He may come off a little strong to you today, but he wants to like you. He'll want to like you automatically because he wants to see me happy. I told him you make me happy, and that means half your work is already done for you. Just be nice and be honest. If you do that, then you won't have anything to be afraid of."

Dave let his fingers fall from Kurt's wrist. "I'm bringing a tie."

Dave got his first real look at Burt Hummel less than an hour later. If Dave hadn't known who he was, he might have still guessed the man was Kurt's father. There were too many similarities, from their mutual height, to the air of confidence. Of course Kurt was far thinner, paler, and softer. But when they embraced, Dave watching with a smile, they embodied the very concept of father and son.

Like Kurt had said, Burt was wearing jeans and a tee. Dave was thankful Kurt had made him leave the tie in the car. And then Burt looked over to him, clearly sizing him up, and Dave wanted to go crawling back to the car himself.

Instead, he rallied himself and headed on over. He'd kind of expected LB to throw himself at Dave, like the baby usually did, but he was met with a surprise as LB hung tightly to Burt. It was almost disappointing, at least until Burt said roughly, "So you're the guy who's been schmoozing my kid up?" and then Dave stopped breathing for a bit.

"Dad!" Kurt said loudly, hands on his hips. "We talked about this."

Burt rolled his eyes. "I'm hungry, Kurt. Let's go eat."

Seated at a table in the restaurant, Dave clasped Kurt's hand almost desperately under the table. Burt Hummel had said all of a half dozen words to him, and Dave was terrified. He completely believed that Burt was a card carrying member of the NRA. He believed that the man was completely and utterly, fiercely protective of Kurt. And Dave damn well knew that if he so much as made Kurt cry, Burt would put him in the ground faster than Dave could even start to apologize. Burt had that look to him, and it made Dave both fear and respect him.

Trying to break the tension between them, Kurt said, "Dad, Dave's a nurse, just like Carole.

"A nurse, huh?" Burt asked skeptically. "Why not a doctor?"

"There's nothing wrong with being a nurse," Dave said, frown on his face. He hated it when people made it sound like it was less of a prestigious position, or that as male, it wasn't a career that he should have had. "And no offence, but that's like asking a guy why he became a deputy, and not the sheriff."

Kurt squeezed Dave's hand. "Dave was excellent with LB the first night we met. I was terrified something was wrong with him, but Dave assured me it was a simple cold. And less than a day later, LB was already better. Dave is great with kids."

Burt ordered a beer, something that Dave noticed Kurt frowning at, but drank a glass of water as he waited for it to arrive. He asked Dave, "How old are you?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "He's the same age as me, Dad."

Dave cleared his throat. "A year older, actually. Or more like nine months, but in school, if we'd gone to school together, I'd have been a grade higher." Every day Dave was thankful he hadn't gone to school with Kurt. Kurt could have easily been his victim. "I know I look a little older, but I guess it's because I pull long hours."

Boastfully, Kurt told his dad, "Dave had quite the job at a nearby hospital. And he still managed to volunteer his time at a clinic in one of the poorer parts of the city."

"And you have enough time for your career and Kurt?" Burt asked. When Kurt made a strangled noise, Burt pointed out, "You have a profession that keeps you at home most of the day. You get to see your kid as much as you want. I think it's only far that we realistically look at the situation and what Dave's limitations are."

"You'd think you were part of this relationship," Kurt grumbled. The look on Burt's face said he sort of did.

"I don't see Kurt or LB every day," Dave admitted. "When I do, sometimes it's only for lunch, or on my break. I try and make room for them as much as I can, but I'm not going to lie and say that I'm there all the time. My work is important to me, and Kurt understands that. Maybe we'll get to the point in our relationship where we'll have to make changes, or revaluated where my time goes, but for now, it works. I trust that Kurt would tell me if he was unhappy."

"I am happy," Kurt said with a ferocious nod.

Burt tapped his fingers against the table, then asked, "Do you often stay over at Kurt's place?"

And thus began twenty minutes of the most excruciatingly painful interrogation that Dave had ever endured. It was downright embarrassing, and not just for himself. He kept a close watch on Kurt from the corner of his eye, the man rapidly becoming more red as the moments passed.

But Dave went along with it all, mainly because for as embarrassing as the questions were, Dave knew they were the kind of things they'd ask anyone who wanted to take LB out, male or female. He'd be just as concerned. He'd love LB enough to deal with the consequences of asking them. Burt was a good father. Dave hoped to be as good of one in time.

"Dad," Kurt said sternly, nearly halfway into their meal, "Dave's a good guy. You should stop treating him like he's on trial."

Dave waved a hand and insisted, "No, it's okay, Kurt. I understand where he's coming from."

Burt's eyebrows went high. "You have children?"

"Well …" Dave trailed off. "No. But I …"

"Kurt is my only son." Burt nodded towards him. "I love Finn, my stepson, but Kurt is my child. Until you have one of your own, you won't understand."

Dave wanted to say something about LB, and his intentions with the baby, but he only nodded, keeping quiet. He'd let Burt warm up to him some more, and then he'd get to the harder hitting stuff.

"Oh, no," Kurt said, eyeing LB. "Mister, do I smell what I think I smell?" Kurt stood and set his napkin on the table. "Excuse us. We're going to go take care of business. Dad, don't think I don't know that this is because you were sneaking him snacks all morning long."

Burt crossed his arms but didn't deny the accusation.

When Kurt and LB were gone, Dave readied himself for round two. What he hadn't predicted, however, was that Burt would say to him, "Kurt's mother was my one true love. I love my wife Carole, but Elizabeth was … she was my everything. I want you to understand that, so you and properly grasp the fact that Kurt is all I have left of her."

Dave nodded slowly.

"I want the best for Kurt," Burt continued. "I won't take any less than that for him. And for a long time, I thought he'd found that in Blaine. Don't think you're so special, I didn't like him at first, either. Too much money. He was too quick to take Kurt off on whirlwind weekend getaways, and buy him all of those fancy clothes he likes so much. Blaine spoiled Kurt, and I couldn't figure out at first if it was because he really loved Kurt, or if he wanted more than a little hand holding."

"I think," Dave said quietly, "Blaine was Kurt's one true love. He talks about him from time to time. References him. Kurt still loves him. It's hard to deal with at times. Hard to stomach. No guy wants to be outclassed by, and second best to a ghost … to a memory."

"The day that Blaine died," Burt said, "Kurt went to his bedroom. He locked the door and he didn't come out for two days, not until Blaine's mother was there, serving him with court papers. And every day after that, Kurt was a complete mess. He was prepared to go to court to fight for LB and he couldn't even take care of himself. Kurt loved Blaine, as much as I loved Elizabeth, and when I realized that, it didn't matter if I liked him or not."

Dave looked down at his lap, fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in it. He hated talking about Blaine, absolutely hated it. He hated even more that Burt was validating what Dave had known to be true about Blaine.

"I never thought he'd get over Blaine."

"That's my point. I don't think he did."

Burt held up a finger. "So imagine my surprise when Kurt called me up and said he'd met someone. Imagine the bigger surprise when I heard in his voice the same tone that he always had when he talked about Blaine."

"Me?" Dave asked a bit dumbly.

Burt nodded. "He may always love Blaine. That's the father of his child. His husband. But I know first hand, it's okay to still love someone, and then move on. I did, and I think Kurt is now. That's why I want you to think about all of what's happening right now very closely. I know Kurt's told you his situation. You know everything you do has consequences."

"I'm not sure I understand," Dave shrugged.

Plainly, Burt said, "Kurt's falling in love with you. It's in the way he talks about you, the way he looks at you, how he holds your hand under the table, yes, I noticed, and most importantly, how he trusts you with his son. I see it, even if you can't. So listen up, kid. Kurt always goes hard and fast. When he commits to something, he commits, and it breaks him hard when something goes wrong. Kurt is about to invest in you one hundred percent. And if you can't return the favor, if you can't commit to him and to LB and the challenges that you'll have with them, then this is where you bow out."

"Excuse me?"

"Bow out." Burt elaborated, "End things. Because if you think this is going to get any easier when Kurt goes to court, regardless of the outcome, you're living in a delusional little world. Kurt is a challenge, and taking on a baby that isn't yours, may be an even bigger one. I don't want to hear that six months from now you think things are too hard. If you do that, you'll destroy Kurt. For him, it'll be like loosing Blaine all over again. I didn't know if I was going to loose Kurt too, when that happened, and I'll be damned if we have a repeat of that."

"No."

Burt met Dave's look completely. "No what?"

Dave leaned back in his seat, arms crossing. "No. I won't give them up. I'm not trying to pretend like it won't be hard. You think Kurt and I haven't already fought? It's not rainbows and kittens for us. It's hard to look at Kurt and think that sometimes he's imagining I'm Blaine, and not me. It's even harder to know that if we stay together for the long haul, and LB starts asking questions, I'm going to have to tell him that neither Kurt nor myself is actually his biological father. And what if Kurt looses LB? How am I going to balance trying to take care of Kurt, who'll be broken, and everything else in my life? But my answer is no. I won't give them up. I won't walk away. I won't abandon Kurt because I'm scared of the uncertainty with us."

"You …" Burt started to say.

Dave interrupted. "I don't love him. Not yet. But I will. I think I'm halfway down the rabbit hole. I don't know about Kurt, but I want to see how things end up. I want to let things play out the way they're supposed to. I want the good times and the bad times, and the hard times and the most rewarding of them all. Kurt's really special. There's something about him, and I'd be a fool to walk away. So please, Mr. Hummel, don't ask me to do something like that ever again."

It was the last thing Dave was expecting. But suddenly he saw Burt reaching across the table, his hand held out. It took Dave a moment to realize that Burt wanted to shake his hand.

"Call me Burt."

"Burt," Dave said slowly, testing it out.

"And for the record," Burt said, "you're the best thing to happen to Kurt in a long time."

"Is that why you spend the past half hour terrifying me?"

Burt scoffed. "I just had to be sure."

Across the restaurant Dave could see Kurt heading back their way. Dave quickly asked Burt, "Sure of what?"

Burt only took a long drink of his beer.

"Everyone okay?" Kurt asked, looking between the two men. "Dad? Dave?"

"Fine," Dave said, daring to lean over and kiss his cheek.

"Good."

They finished fairly quickly after that, and Burt said, "How about I take LB back to your place, Kurt, and we get to spend some time alone."

Kurt frowned. "You did that all this morning."

"For two hours," Burt scoffed. "I need a little more time with my grandson. I guess you two will just have to amuse yourselves."

Kurt looked suddenly to Dave, almost unsure of what he'd heard. Dave flashed him a smile. He advised Kurt, "Let's just go with it. It sounds good to me."

That was how Dave and Kurt ended up at Dave's place, and without the beloved, but constant company of LB.

Kurt took the opportunity to sprawl out on one of the lounge chairs situated on Dave's meager, but nice balcony. Dave sat by his feet, popped a shoe off and worked his fingers into the heel of Kurt's foot.

"You are the best," Kurt purred. "The absolute best."

Dave beamed, then said, "I'm sorry I put up such a fuss about today. I actually had a good time."

Kurt draped an arm across his forehead and asked in disbelief, "Really?"

"It was a little rough at first," Dave agreed. "But we reached an understanding. You were right about your dad. He's awesome."

Kurt peeked out from under his arm. "Dave, I know your family is a little bit of a touchy subject, but can I ask you about it?"

"Alright," Dave agreed. "I kind of figured you'd want to know more."

"But you have started opening up to me," Kurt said kindly, reminding Dave of their last heartfelt conversation. "I don't want to overstep."

Dave rubbed a little harder. "Ask whatever you want. I'll do my best to answer."

Kurt broached, "Your dad … was he supportive of you? When you came out?"

Dave gave Kurt an indescribable look. He told Kurt, "Yes? No? Kurt, it's hard to explain. My mom was already dead by the time I came out to my family. My dad was really just a shell of who he was. I told him and he said that was nice, and went back to organizing his office space, the same space he hadn't used for work in nearly two years, and had organized an hour earlier."

"And … and your mom?"

Dave asked Kurt, "Do you want to know how I came to terms with being gay?"

Kurt's arm dropped completely away and he nodded reverently.

Rubbing again, Dave said, "My senior year in high school my mom found a lump in her breast. There were a whole lot of tests after that, and it really brought us all closer as a family. I'd already knocked all that juvenile, asshole behavior off, but this really changed me. It made me realize how much I really needed her, how much I loved her, and how much she meant to me. I couldn't imagine loosing her, but just in case, I was determined to be with her as much as possible. My dad felt the same way."

Kurt wiggled his toes. "Go on."

Dave's shoulders slumped. "She didn't get better. She continued to get worse. We tried everything, Kurt. We tried chemo. We tried radiation. We tried surgery and all of these drug cocktails that made her sleepy and sick and unhappy. I guess after a while she realized that she wasn't going to get better in a hospital. My dad started looking for alternative medicine for her after that."

"What kind of alternative medicine?"

"Yoga," Dave laughed. "I know, it sounds stupid, but really. Yoga and herbal based teas, and meditation and even this new age stuff that no one really believed in, but we were really desperate. And my dad found this guy who was supposed to be a master at alternative medicine. Apparently he studied in Tibet for a couple of years and toured the Amazon and had a wealth of knowledge. His name was Alex Zimmerman and he was there for my mom. Kurt, I knew what he was doing was completely worthless, but he was there for her. He kind of became her best friend."

"That's nice," Kurt said a bit sleepily.

Dave nodded. "They painted each other's toenails. They did Pilates in the morning and then watched Richard Gere movies in the afternoon. He practically ate dinner at our house every night. Dad had to work all the time, but Alex stayed with her. He was a part of the family. He never lied to us, never tried to make us think he could cure her. He was just there to keep her company until her time came. I kind of fell in love with him. Or at least the idea of him."

At that, Kurt did sit up. "You fell in love with him?"

"My first gay crush."

Kurt questioned, "Was he even gay? Because my first gay crush was completely straight. Oddly enough, he ended up becoming my stepbrother, but that's another story altogether."

Dave reached for Kurt's other foot. "He was gay."

"Did he … did he like you back?"

Dave grinned. "My mom had a bad night one weekend. She was up getting sick forever. Alex stayed with her the whole time, and by the time she fell asleep, we were all exhausted. Alex went to the guest room and I guess I had a little too much of my dad's liquid courage. I went to him that night and I told him I was in love with him. I gave him my virginity that night. So yes, he liked me back."

Carefully, Kurt pointed out, "But you're not with him now. What happened?"

"My mom died," Dave answered. "She died and there was no reason for him to stay. We weren't really together anyway. We had sex to relieve tension. That was it. My mom died, I decided to start the nursing program, and he went to India. That was it. We talked once in a while after that, but I haven't heard from him in years."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Dave turned so he was straddling the lounger. "I guess it was a combination of my mom getting sick and me just not being able to deal with hiding who I was. It just sort of happened, but that's how I came out to myself. I didn't tell my dad it was Alex who helped me admit to liking boys, but I did tell him about my sexuality a couple years after that. That's how it happened."

Kurt pulled his feet from Dave's grip and moved them to either side of the lounger. He tugged gently on Dave's collar and pulled him in for a soft kiss. "Thank you for telling me."

Dave brought a big hand up to cradle the back of Kurt's head. "Thanks for listening."

There was another kiss exchanged before Kurt said, "Just in case you didn't know, my dad likes you."

"I know," Dave promised, hand sliding up the back of Kurt's head. "He let me leave with you. He let us have some alone time. You know we don't get much of that with LB. I love the kid, but he makes it hard."

"I know he talked to you when I went to change LB. How did he go from the threats to the acceptance of us?"

Dave kissed him deeper this time, coaxing his mouth open and pressing Kurt down on the lounger. He let his fingers brush against Kurt's jaw and felt the soft skin. He could never give Kurt up. Never. He knew now, Kurt was an addition. Kurt was everything that Dave had always daydreamed about having, and something he'd always known was worth protecting.

"Dave?" Kurt asked, head tipping back as Dave pulled his shirt buttons open and began to kiss the skin at his collarbone.

"We should talk about this later," Dave said, mouth hot against Kurt's skin. "Like when LB is sixteen and wants to start dating."

"Huh?"

Dave went in for the kill and there were no more questions from Kurt.

Very slowly, Dave said, "We're in agreement, at least partially, right, that I had a legitimate reason to be nervous to meet your father? Yes, Kurt?"

Shirtless, Kurt stood in front of his wardrobe, one hand on a jutting hip, and the other flipping through his expansive wardrobe. From the distance of the bed, Dave leaned back on his hands. He appreciated the curve of Kurt's back, the creamy skin and the subtle definition of muscle mass. Dave liked what he saw a lot, just not the situation in which he found himself admiring his boyfriend.

"Yes," Kurt said absently.

"Then we could equally agree, right, that this is mild in comparison?"

"Excuse me?" Kurt turned sharply and suddenly at the waist, eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"

Dave sighed. "I just don't get why you're all worked up." On the floor in front of them LB crawled by. The baby had been going for nearly twenty minutes, the entire time Kurt had been trying to decide on what to wear. Dave expected he'd nap for a while on the way to the picnic, but be awake and alert for the main event.

"These are your friends and your coworkers," Kurt said, selecting a shirt and holding it against him. "They're affluent, Dave, and I may just be some country hick, but I know what that means."

"Blaine left you everything, didn't he?"

Kurt paused. "What do you mean everything?"

"Money," Dave said easily. "He left you a lot of it, right?"

"Yes." Kurt nodded, fingers working on the shirt buttons. "He'd already come into his inheritance and he put it all in my name, in the event of his death. He also had a sizeable life insurance policy."

"So," Dave pointed out, "You probably have more money than most of the people there put together. But here's the kicker, Kurt. It's all about class. Most of them have to buy theirs. You don't. That's why you shouldn't be worried. You're already miles ahead of them. In fact, they'll be climbing all over each other to stand next to you. These people can smell power from a mile away, and they'll be your new best friend within minutes."

A small smile pulled at Kurt's features. "You don't have to try and make me feel less nervous." Kurt said dryly, "It won't work. Now, tell me if this looks good."

Dave fell back completely on the bed as Kurt slid the shirt on. "You'll look good no matter what you put on. I'm going to say that about everything. Asking me is a waste of time."

"Maybe," Kurt mused out loud, "I should go with a layered look."

Dave's voice was gruff as he agreed. "It's going to be sunny outside, but it's getting windy, too. Chilly, even. It's fall now. We should make sure LB had a coat, too."

"What's the itinerary look like?"

Dave laughed. "You're the only one who would say itinerary, instead of just asking what the game plan is."

Dave gave a loud groan as a heavy weight settled on top of him suddenly. He brought his hands up to awkwardly stabilize Kurt and accepted a quick kiss from him. "Are you making fun of the way I talk?"

Seriously Dave shook his head. "Absolutely not. I like the way you talk." Then he broke into a wide grin. "All sophisticated and such. We normal folk are mighty impressed with that there vocabulary."

Kurt smacked him on the arm. "Don't make fun of me. And don't laugh at the fact that I like to know where I'm going and what I'm doing. I have control issues, we've already discussed this. So just indulge me."

Dave sat up, his arms holding strong around Kurt as he kept him in his lap. "We'll only stay for a bit. I promise. The first hour is where we make our donations and people give speeches about how utterly important they are to this cause. It's boring, but the worst of it. Then we eat, and after that we can go. Maybe we could hit up that new science museum downtown? It's supposed to be super interactive for kids. I know LB is still pretty young, but we're both big kids."

"Okay." Kurt nodded. "Sounds good."

"Kurt." Dave frowned. "What's wrong?" There was something on Kurt's face, a hint of unhappiness, and a shadow of unease. Kurt was trying to play it off, Dave could tell, but something was wrong.

Slowly, Kurt climbed from Dave and then stood in front of him. "When we get back we should talk about something."

Wearily, Dave asked, "About what? Come on, Kurt. Be honest with me. What's bugging you?"

"I don't want to ruin the day."

"Tell me," Dave pressed. "You look really upset."

Kurt's eyes drifted to LB and Dave followed him. "Something with LB?"

"Yesterday," Kurt eased out, "there was a man watching our building. I know it sounds kind of crazy. I mean, there are fifty people in the building, at least. And it could just be some guy sitting in his car on his lunch break, looking around. But I saw him, Dave, and he made my skin crawl. I was afraid to leave my apartment. He made me so nervous."

Dave demanded, "How long was he there?"

"I'm not sure. He was there when I got up in the morning, but then I cleaned for a while, and painted, and then there was lunch I had to make for the both of us. When I checked after that, he was gone. He could have been there an hour, Dave, or six. It's too hard to say."

"Stay with me." Dave's throat was dry and he couldn't believe he'd gotten the words out. "Kurt, stay with me." Because all he could think about was someone watching Kurt's apartment building. Kurt was right, it could have been nothing, but if there was even the slightest bit chance that it wasn't dismissible … Dave didn't want to think about what could happen to Kurt.

"Stay with you?"

The look of disbelief on Kurt's face was predictable. Dave rushed to say, "At least for a couple of days? Look, if it's nothing, then at the very least we get to see if we could ever manage to live together at some point in the future. We'll call it a test run to something more serious. And if it isn't nothing, Kurt, if it's something bad, maybe we throw this guy off your trail. In any case, it gives both of us a peace of mind, and isn't that worth living out of a suitcase for a couple of days?"

Kurt turned on heel back to his wardrobe. He selected a cardigan that he slid over his shirt. "Are you sure you want to offer that to LB and I? You're not just getting a roomie who wants to cuddle with you at night, Dave. Living with a baby is difficult, especially one who's only a little over a half year old. He sleeps through the night most of the time, but not always."

"Stay with me," Dave repeated, sure of himself. "And if he wakes up while we're sleeping, I'll take care of it. I promise."

Kurt's shoulders slumped a little in relief and acceptance. "Okay. I guess I should pack some stuff now, then? And we'll go to your place after?"

Dave nodded. "We've got time. I'll wait."

They were on their way less than a half hour later, with three bags packed in the back of Dave's car, and LB sleeping in his car seat. Kurt had dressed him in a ridiculously military themed outfit, complete with beret that Dave didn't see LB keeping on his head for more than three seconds after he was awake. But then Dave had come to expect how eccentric Kurt could be when dressing himself and LB. It was probably going to break Kurt's heart the moment LB was old enough to decided what he wanted to wear for himself.

"Where is this park?" Kurt asked, fussing with his hair through a compact mirror.

"Cedar Heights? Heard of it? It's pretty much right across from the hospital. We'll be there in about fifteen minutes. You think LB will be up and going by then?"

"Hard to say." Kurt mused, "He's getting more active every day. Most babies are barely crawling at this age but he's been doing that for over a month. Still, it takes a lot out of him. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Want to go over who all the important people are again?" Dave asked Kurt once they'd parked and were making their way through the parking lot towards the festivities. Dave had offered to help Kurt feel more comfortable by explaining the more important people at the event, but the first time Kurt had been distracted and the second it had been Dave.

"I'll wing it," Kurt sighed. "And I'll have to hope the check in my pocket is big enough to make up for everything else."

Dave frowned. "Check? I already made my donation."

Kurt handed LB off to Dave easily and readjusted the strap of the baby bag on his shoulder. He told Dave, "I know you did, but you said this is for a good cause, right? Ovarian cancer? Dave, look at what you have in your arms. That's my son, and he was conceived and carried to term because the woman who agreed to do it was healthy. I want that for all women, ovarian cancer can take a chance at children away from a woman. That's why I made my donation."

Shrugging a little, Dave felt LB's steady, tiny puffs of breath against his neck. The baby was still out cold and it was nice to just hold him. Usually LB spent his time in Dave's arms squirming around and pulling at his hair, or mouthing drool into his shirt.

The charity event was already in full swing by the time they reached the main area. Dave let one of his hands slide around to Kurt's waist and he anchored the man firmly to his side. Kurt was nervous, but Dave didn't want to let him know that he was equally as nervous.

As they made their way through the people Dave quietly mumbled to Kurt who each person was, their occupation, and if they were on good terms. He told Kurt, "That's Quinn, she's a nurse in the NICU. She's a frigid bitch, but she treats those babies all like they're her own. And that's Artie, believe it or not, he's a physical therapist with the hospital."

Dave pointed out Tina, who was there with Mike already, and Santana who was making out with Brittany within eyesight of hospital supervisor Sylvester. Dave waved at Mercedes, and then mumbled to Kurt, "She just started dating Sam, he's the cute blond next to her. Sam's at the hospital, Mercedes just started a the clinic. I think you'll find that of most of the pairs here, it's one partner who's at the hospital, and another who's at the clinic. It's easier for couples to split their time that way, and the hospital is pretty strict about relationships between full time staff members. The clinic isn't."

"Hey," Kurt said, pointing across the field. "Is that Noah?"

Dave groaned. He recognized Puck's mohawk immediately. "He shouldn't be here." Puck seemed to be circling around, slipping through the crowd unnoticed for the most part. But Dave could see where he was headed. Puck really couldn't have been headed anywhere else.

"Why not?" Kurt asked, curiously.

Dave shifted LB a little on his shoulder. The baby was moments away from waking up. Dave had been around him long enough to recognize the small tremors in his body for what they were.

"Because of Quinn." Dave saw Kurt trying to place the two of them into something that made sense. He helped Kurt by saying, "Remember when I told you why Puck was doing his community service at the clinic?"

Kurt nodded. "Because he drove his car through the hospital?"

"Because of a girl," Dave clarified. "Because of Quinn. Quinn and Puck, they have all kinds of history. And now they have a restraining order. It's not that Puck shouldn't be here, it's that he can't. He could have his community service revoked for being here, and he could go back to jail."

LB was up then, blinking sleepily and looking around. Kurt reached for him instinctively and told Dave, "Go talk to Noah. I see a public bathroom that doesn't look like it's out of the middle ages. LB and I are going to make a quick stop there, freshen up, and then by the time you finish with Noah, we'll be back. Okay?"

Dave leaned down for a kiss. "You know you don't have to freshen up, babe. You look great."

"Go," Kurt shooed.

"Don't put LB down on the floor at any point?"

Kurt scoffed. "As if. Who do you take me for?"

Dave gave him another quick kiss. "Never doubted you for a second. Just … let me have my worries, the same as you."

"Fair enough." Kurt breathed deep. "Now go stop Noah from getting arrested."

Dave watched Kurt head off towards the bathroom for a long minute, then strode swiftly towards Puck. He caught the man around the elbow and demanded, "Come with me now."

"Get off!" Puck struggled, but Dave was bigger, and stronger, and had a height advantage. "Karofsky!"

"Shut up," Dave said. They reached the edge of the fundraiser and Dave demanded, "What's wrong with you? You know you can't be here."

Flustered, Puck was quiet for a moment, then said, "I just want to talk to her."

"So she can get you sent back to court for a restraining order violation?"

Puck crossed his arms. "Her old man got that restraining order put against me. Not her. Quinn's a bitch, no doubt, but she doesn't hate me."

"Are you serious?" Dave asked. "You drove your car through the hospital loading dock. Puckerman, you went on a witch hunt through the hospital for her and nearly cost her her job. You know what it means to her to be around those babies."

"I just …" Puck looked away, physically deflating. "I know what it means to her."

Dave told him, "You're not a bad guy, Puckerman. That's why you got community service instead of jail time. The judge understood, the same as the rest of us. And all of us at the clinic really do all that we can for you. How many times has Schue let you sit in on an evaluation and asked for you opinion? You know Tina doesn't rat you out when you leave early on Tuesdays. And me? Puckerman, I let you handle my kids. Do you think I'd let you touch any of the kids that come through my clinic if I didn't think you were a good guy who just lost his cool and did a stupid thing?"

Slowly, Puck shook his head. "I just want to talk to her. I want to … I don't know what I want, but being away from her is shitty."

"I thought being with her was painful? Isn't that why you stopped seeing each other?"

Dave looked back through the crowd for Quinn. He'd last seen her by what would later that day be the silent auction booth. But she was gone now, disappeared into the crowd.

"We broke up with each other," Puck clarified, "because we couldn't stand to be in the same room as each other. Because we looked at each other and felt nothing but shame and regret and disgust. We hated each other. As much as we loved each other, that's how much we hated each other, too."

"And you want to see her now?" Dave questioned. "You see why I think this is not such a great idea, right?"

Quietly, almost as if he was afraid to admit it, Puck said, "Working at the clinic helps, you know. I spend most of my time there cleaning up piss off the floor, but I get to be around kids and that helps. And then I have my Tuesdays."

Dave put a comforting hand on Puck's shoulder. "She's getting big, isn't she?"

Something lit up in Dave's face, and he supposed that was how he looked when he was with LB, or talked about him. It was the look of a parent-of a father. There was no mistaking that look.

"Huge," Puck said, sounding deliriously happy. "She's babbling now. It doesn't really make much sense, but she's making lots of noises. The same as your kid."

Dave froze. "My kid?"

"Kurt's kid," Puck dismissed. "Same thing."

But was it? Dave knew he'd lay his life down for LB in a second, but wouldn't he do that for any child? LB was very precious to him, but maybe it was insulting to Kurt, to reference LB as theirs jointly. He'd made tiny references before, and was trying to warm Kurt up to the idea of how Dave felt about LB, but honestly, Dave felt like he was standing on uneven ground.

Dave squared his shoulder and told Puck, "Go home. I know you want to talk to her, but this isn't the place. Quinn had a real part in planning this. This day means a lot to her. I'm not saying she won't want to see you, but I'm saying you should be mature and responsible here and realize that this isn't the time or place. Go home, Puck. Think about what you really want for her, and if talking to get is a good idea."

Unabashed, Puck said, "Is still love her. Even after Beth, I never stopped."

"I know," Dave soothed. "I know.

Puck thankfully, after that, took his advice and left. A weight lifted from Dave and he hoped that was the only hiccup of the day.

But then he saw Kurt. He could only tell it was Kurt because of the clothing, and the small form slung against his shoulder. Kurt was much too far away for Dave's comfort, and he was continuing to move away from the fund raiser at an incredible speed. Dave took off after him in an instant.

"Kurt!" He called after him endlessly, trying to make up the ground between them, running harder and faster than he ever had before. All that mattered was getting to Kurt, and figuring out why he hadn't stopped, or at the least, turned around.

"Goddamint, Kurt! Stop!"

Dave grabbed him hard, harder than he'd intended, and pulled Kurt around sharply. But he was out of breath, frantic, and he'd always been stronger than he knew what to do with himself. And maybe he was just to used to manhandling his male coworkers around. But Kurt was different. Kurt bruised easily and wasn't rough and was very male, but also very delicate.

"Sorry! Sorry. Kurt, I just wanted you to-" Dave stopped, body flushing cold when he got a good look at Kurt's face. Dave had never seen Kurt cry before, not like this. "What's wrong?"

Kurt sniffled, eyes red and face blotchy. "Nothing, okay. Nothing. Let go of me. You hurt me."

Dave's hand dropped away and he once again apologized, feeling faint.

"Why are you crying?" Dave asked, voice breathless.

"It's nothing," Kurt repeated. LB was fussy in his arms, squirming and face scrunched up in a way that sort of looked like he needed to have his diaper changed. There wasn't a bad smell, however, and Dave took it to mean that LB was simply reflecting Kurt's emotions. "You have great friends, Dave."

Dave's eyes narrowed. "Someone said something to you."

"It's-"

"Yeah, it's nothing. I've heard that twice from you now. So how about you tell me the truth, because if you don't, I'm liable to go back to the fund raiser, beat the crap out of all of my so called friends for making my boyfriend cry, which will probably mean I'll loose my job, and or get thrown in jail for the next twenty-four hours. It'll probably be longer, though, because I don't really have anyone who'd bail me out, next to you."

"How do you know that-"

"That I have asshole friends who probably said something to you about being here? Because, Kurt, I know how important it was for you to fit in with people I work with and socialize with, and I also know how a lot of them are total assholes. So fess up. Because I'm not letting you walk away from me."

LB mouthed at Kurt's cardigan and the man finally admitted, "There were accusations made."

"Accusations?" Dave felt his blood boil. "Who and what?"

"Just that … you know …" Kurt shrugged. "I guess they were only concerned for you."

Dave shook his head. "Doubtful."

"They caught me on the way to the bathroom," Kurt said, revealing that he and LB hadn't even gotten that far. "They said that I was … that I might be trapping you. With LB. With a baby, one that isn't yours."

Dave demanded, "Have I ever made you feel that way? Have I ever given you even the tiniest hint that I'm not exactly where I want to be with you and LB?"

"Well, no, but-"

"I know LB is your son," Dave interrupted. "He's your baby, but he's my baby too. We've bonded. I care so much about him. I'd do anything for him. That's not called being trapped. It's just a fact of love. I spend time with you guys because I want to. And we have breaks when we need them. There's nothing suffocating about LB. And I don't ever feel trapped. You don't let me feel trapped."

Kurt licked his dry lips, then swayed on his feet. He responded, "I asked about some of your coworkers. They're all … professional. They're professionals. Sam, he's an immunologist. Quinn? She's a specialist in her field, and so is Mike, Tina's fiancé. Rory's an oncologist. And Mercedes? She may be doing work at your clinic right now, but she's on the fast track to becoming a neurologist. Santana said-"

"That bitch."

Kurt started. "Excuse me?"

"It was her, wasn't it?" Dave fought the urge to go find her. He wasn't sure he could control himself right now, not now that he understood what she'd been implying to Kurt.

"They're doctors and nurses," Kurt said, sounding distressed. "Santana's girlfriend is a veterinarian. They say Schue is going to name you his predecessor to the clinic within five years. But what am I? An artist? I've had one showing in my life, Dave. I've sold four pieces of art. I spend my days at home having playtime with my son and cleaning my house almost obsessively. I have money because my dead husband left it to me. I'm nothing special and I'm probably never going to be. They're right, Dave, you're settling."

Dave took Kurt by the upper arms, careful of LB. "Listen to me," he demanded. "Listen to me, not those assholes. Listen to the guy who loves you. I am not settling. I'm not. I'm with the person that I want to be with. I'm with the person who makes me laugh and smile and feel good about myself. That's you, Kurt. You make me believe in myself. You make me think that I can have something good and nice in my life, and maybe that just because I was terrible as a teenager, I can still be a good man. You're patient with me and honest and everything that I ever wanted in a partner. I love you. Do I need to say it again, because I will. I love you, and if you try and leave, I'll just follow right after you."

A bit numbly, Kurt asked, "You love me?"

Dave nodded shakily. "I told your dad it wasn't love yet. It wasn't then. But I'm sure now. I'm absolutely sure. I'm head over heels in love with you."

Kurt had this habit, Dave had noticed, of pushing up in between his arms, and sinking his face into the juncture at Dave's neck and shoulder. It made Dave feel powerful. He wasn't sure what it made Kurt feel, maybe comfort, maybe just love, but it was one of his favorite moments. He cherished the moments in which Kurt pressed against him in that way, and this moment was no different.

LB squished pleasantly between them, Dave whispered into Kurt's ear, "You complete me."

Kurt laughed loudly, authentically, and said, "Don't ever quote that movie at me again."

"Then don't sell yourself short," Dave returned. "Let me tell you how I feel, and let that be the only thing that matters. Deal?"

Kurt nodded, then asked, "Want to go back? I'm done having a pity party, now."

"No way." Dave put an arm around his shoulder and began to lead him to the parking lot. "Screw them. We made our donation. Let's get out of here. We're way too good for them. And, I believe I promised a science museum to someone."

"Really? You still want to go?"

They made it back to the car quickly, and Dave defended, "Of course I still want to go. They have this gigantic metal ball that carries a charge, and when you touch it, all your hair stands up. LB and I can't wait to see that."

"I'm not touching it!" Kurt refused. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to get my hair perfect like this."

"I do," Dave said, quickly and confidently strapping LB in. "I'm there most mornings when you're getting ready. Dave ducked out of the backseat and came around to the driver's seat where he climbed in and asked Kurt, "How about we just go back to my place and get you guys settled in?"

"I like that idea best," Kurt admitted. "And when we get there, I think we need to talk about something."

"Again?" Dave turned the engine over. "Kurt, there are only so many talks I think I can take before I have a stroke."

"Not about us," Kurt said. His hands were once again twisting in his lap. "About my court date. It's next week."

"Oh," was all Dave could say.

From the backseat LB giggled, feet kicking up in the air. Dave could just barely make out a bit of him from the rearview mirror.

"This is it, then?"

Kurt only nodded.

"I used to think I wanted to live in New Work, in a penthouse, and sit in a yellow cab for several hours a day. I used to think being in a rush, and grabbing coffee on the go, and being in the fashion capital of America was my dream."

Dave was seated on the floor of his living room, and was helping LB crawl around. He looked across to the sofa where Kurt was sitting with one foot tucked under him, leaning on an armrest.

"Yeah?"

Kurt nodded. "When I was young. In college. When I first met Blaine and he told me his grandparents lived in the city. It seemed very romantic at the time. Of course, back then I didn't think Blaine and I would have children. We hadn't even begun to discuss the idea of surrogacy."

Blaine was easily Dave's least favorite subject. But he was willing to sit through Kurt's memories of the man if it meant Kurt was talking again. Kurt had spent a good portion of the last week too quiet for Dave's tastes. It had almost seemed like Kurt hadn't been there all the way, between the picnic's fallout, meeting with the lawyer once more, and receiving official summons for the court date.

Less than forty-eight hours away and Dave wasn't sure Kurt was going to make it without fracturing along the way. He looked tired, and Dave knew he wasn't sleeping as well has he could have been. Dave had invited them over for a few days, but when Dave had offered to extend their visit, Kurt hadn't fought him on the idea. Now, Dave lay awake in bed every night, sometimes listening to Kurt sniffle, sometimes feeling him fidget. It was absolutely horrible.

But now Kurt was talking candidly, and he seemed less guarded. Dave was going to go with it, even if it meant listening to stories about Blaine. Dave was still trying to work on being less resentful of a dead guy.

"I wanted to be Sarah Jessica Parker, I guess."

"But not anymore?" Dave asked. There was a hint of it in Kurt's voice.

Kurt smiled at LB as the baby toppled forward over one of Dave's powerful thighs. The baby looked shaken for a moment, like he might cry, but then he rallied himself up to his knees and began scaling the large man again.

"No," Kurt agreed. "Not anymore. I guess it was maybe more Blaine's dream, than mine. He's the one who got me excited about it. I'm not saying there was anything wrong with sharing his dream, I was happy to be wherever he was. But the more I think about it, the less I want to live in New York."

"Where do you want to live, then?" Dave blew a quick raspberry on LB's stomach.

"Here?" Kurt said with a shrug. "Maybe California? Honestly, I'm not thinking about a locations, per say. I'm thinking about what kind of home I want to have."

"Well?" Dave prompted.

"Big." Kurt's hands went out wide and he ignored Dave's laugh. "Not a mansion, but big. I want two floors, at least. I want the space. I want LB to have his own bedroom, and then a playroom. I want us to have a big kitchen to cook in, and a room just for me to paint in."

Dave froze as Kurt kept talking, explaining the large backyard he wanted, and maybe a pet for LB. He tried to move on, to follow Kurt as he talked, but he was caught on Kurt's declaration of the kitchen they would cook in together. Kurt wanted to … he wanted for them to live together. He expected that one day they'd have a house together. It was what Dave wanted too, but he hear Kurt say it was …

"I'll have dinner parties at all the major holidays," Kurt continued, "so the house will have to have a formal dinning room. And maybe a big front yard? I know I said the backyard was important, but a front yard is important, too."

Carefully, Dave hedged, "Would we need a guest room, too?" He spoke slowly enough to be completely understood.

"Two, maybe." Kurt held up the appropriate number of fingers. "My dad has been keeping his distance because of the situation with LB right now, but when all this is over, I wouldn't be surprised if he and Carole came for an extended visit. They like to visit Finn and myself a lot. I think they get lonely without children in the house."

Kurt blushed, leaning forward. He confided, "I want LB to have a brother or sister some day."

Dave recalled, it would have been Kurt's turn after LB to have a biological child from a surrogate. It was easy for Dave to forget that when Blaine had died, so had all of Kurt's plans for that.

Kurt slid down next to Dave and LB. He threw himself over Dave's lap and threaded his fingers easily through LB's thin hair. "We never wanted there to be a lot of age between our children. Now I think there might be a chance that LB could never have a brother or sister."

"Why not?" Dave toppled completely back on the carpet and pulled Kurt with him. "Why not, Kurt?"

"It just doesn't …"

"Do you think I don't want kids?"

Kurt stiffened against Dave. "We've only been dating a short while."

"But you're using a plural when you talk about getting a house. Obviously one day, not tomorrow, you'd want to get a house with me. You want to have a home with me. So why wouldn't I want to have children with you? I've already told you I love you. I think we have a long road ahead of us, but eventually, I think LB should have a little brother or sister. It would do him good. And there's no way you get to keep those eyes to yourself. Can you imagine what a heartbreaker our kid would be with your eyes?"

Kurt's ear settled over the steady beating of Dave's heart. "It's nice to think about."

Dave cupped the back of Kurt's neck, his thumb moving slowly over the skin. "It's not a betrayal to Blaine, to want to have a future with me."

"I know that." Kurt shifted a little, his fingers curling into Dave's shirt like LB did. "I know, but sometimes it feels like a betrayal."

"Kurt." Dave held him closer, ignoring the way LB pawed at him.

Kurt's head lifted and he startled Dave by saying, "Not for the reason you think." Kurt rose onto his hand and knees so he was leaning over Dave. He dipped forward to kiss Dave's forehead. "I know what you think, Dave Karofsky, and I know you think it because I let you."

"Tell me what I think." Dave leaned up for another kiss.

"You think I look at you and see Blaine. You think I'm replacing you."

"No," Dave said, maybe a little too quickly.

Kurt hushed him with a harder kiss. "The truth is, it feels like I'm betraying myself, and everything I thought I wanted. I feel ashamed, because I look at you and I don't see Blaine. I see you. Maybe it was him in the beginning, but it's just you now. It's only you. And there are these moments where I have to stop and think and remember what Blaine's smile was like, and how he used to take his coffee, and what side of the bed he slept on. There are days that I don't even think about him. I never thought I'd get to that point in my life, Dave. I feel like I'm betraying myself, and not you or Blaine."

"Come here." Dave dragged an arm around the back of Kurt's neck and pulled him back down. They twined together on the carpet as LB crawled over them. "It's so ridiculously easy to love you. You have no idea."

Kurt kissed his temple the same time as LB crawled up along side them, babbling excitedly as he dragged his stuffed lamb with him.

"I wanted to tell you something," Dave said, sitting up and pulling Kurt with him. He shifted his legs more comfortably and made room for LB, too. "I talked to your dad about Tuesday. He was going to drive up here and pick you up, right?"

Kurt nodded, one arm around Dave's shoulders to steady himself. "I told him I could rent a car just as well. It's only a two hour drive, but I don't see why my dad should have to make it every day for as long as this last."

"How long is it supposed to last?"

Kurt shrugged. "Mr. Hill," Kurt said, referencing his lawyer, "said it depends on the judge we get. It's either between Cooper and Drew right now. And it could be over in as few as two days, or it could stretch a week long, depending on how long the judge takes to decide."

"I asked for Tuesday off," Dave told Kurt. "And Wednesday. I'm going to drive you down there. I was hoping we could crash with your dad, but if not, at least we'll be carpooling together. Your dad said it was okay, as long as you agree."

Kurt's face scrunched a bit. "You want to come?"

Puzzled, Dave asked, "You thought I wouldn't? Someone is trying to take LB from us and you don't think I'm going to be there to fight for him? The same as you?"

Kurt's head tipped to rest on Dave's shoulder. "I wasn't sure. It's not going to be pretty. Edwina Anderson hates my guts. I can't stress that enough. I can't be clear enough. She's hated me from the moment she knew Blaine was serious about me and about being with me. She's always been convinced that Blaine being gay was a phase, at least until I came along. And she is going to drag me through the mud before this is through."

"Got a lot of skeletons in your closet?"

"Nothing of mine is in the closet," Kurt scoffed. "But she's going to pull out all the stops to make it look like I'm unfit to be LB's guardian. She's going to say stuff, and it's going to be horrible. It's going to be no place you want to be. That's why I didn't ask you to come with me. I don't want you to hear the things she'll say."

"I'll be there," Dave reinforced, shaking his head. "I'll be there for you every step of the way. I'll put a hit out on that bitch if you want."

"David." Kurt scowled and put his hands over LB's ears. "I hate her, but she's still LB's grandmother. We're not going to talk about putting hits out on people in front of him like this … especially since we both know something like that would be tracked too easily back to us."

Dave cracked a smile. "Okay. But you know I would, if I could."

Kurt released LB. "I know. Thank you."

"But I'm still driving us."

True to his word, Dave drove them the two hours to the town Kurt had grown up in.

Kurt explained, "The hearing isn't actually taking place here, the courthouse is one city over, but I thought we could relax for a bit. And I know my dad will answer the door with a shotgun in hand, if anyone comes looking for us."

"There's be no point in her trying to take LB from us now," Dave told Kurt. "And I was kind of thinking you could show me around. Maybe your high school? Where you used to hang out?"

Kurt made a face. "Maybe not. I grew up here, Dave. It doesn't mean there are a ton of wonderful memories."

"What's that mean?" Dave inquired. He had LB in his carrier held securely at the crook of his bent arm, and was trying to maneuver around Kurt to pull some of their bags from the trunk of his car. LB was fussing and Dave knew he hadn't slept properly on the way down from the city.

"Kurt!"

Dave sidestepped quickly as the front door to Kurt's childhood home opened and a mammoth man came tearing out. Finn. This had to be Finn. Kurt had described him as all height, wide shoulders and a childlike disposition. It seemed a true enough description as Dave watched Finn pick Kurt up and drag him around in a circle. It was adorable, actually.

"Stop it!" Kurt got his feet under him and pushed at Finn. "What are you, seven?"

Finn beamed and tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his feet. "Haven't seen you in months, dude. Chill."

Kurt sighed. He gestured to Dave and told his stepbrother, "Finn, this is Dave. Dave, meet my brother Finn. Try not to tear into each other, playful or otherwise."

Finn was much careful with Dave, the larger man noted. It likely had something to do with LB in Dave's hold, but instead of the greeting Kurt had gotten, Finn held his hand out to Dave. He said, "Burt told me to go easy on you. He says you're a good fit for Kurt. I'm gonna go with that, unless you prove otherwise."

"Thanks, man," Dave said, trying not to sound awkward as he shook Finn's hand.

"Now let me look at my nephew." Finn made grabby hands.

Dave looked to Kurt. "Is it actually safe to give him the baby."

"Yeah," Kurt said with a smile. "He's just trying to get some practice in."

"I'm going to have a baby!" Finn nearly burst.

Dave felt even more reluctant to hand LB over.

Less than five minutes later Dave was in the Hummel family living room, and he'd met Hannah, Finn's obviously pregnant wife.

"She's seven months," Kurt whispered to save as Burt and Carole and the rest of the family cooed over LB. "Finn's spent the past five that he's known freaking out. He's just excited now. I'm happy for them. They met Finn's freshman year at OSU. She's good for him, and he's lost without her."

"Finn looks like he's hyped up on about fifteen energy drinks."

"He's always like that," Kurt said seriously. "Hannah will reign him in. Give her a chance."

Dave's fingers caught Kurt's and he nodded.

The last thing Dave had expected was for Kurt Hummel to lead him down the hall after dinner. He pushed on the door at the end of the hallway, LB in his arms, and said, "This was my bedroom. We'll sleep here tonight."

Suspiciously, Dave asked, "Your father is going to let us share a room?"

"Finn and Hannah are sharing a room."

"They're married," Dave pointed out.

Kurt laughed over his shoulder, "What does that tell you about what my dad thinks of us?"

For the most part, the room was bare. There was a bed, and a dresser, and a crib in the far corner. But there were flashes of Kurt, small trinkets that had clearly been left behind when Kurt had left home, and splashes of color that couldn't have been the result of anyone but Kurt.

They kept each other company easily in the room for the next hour, Kurt unpacking their things and Dave settling LB into the unfamiliar crib. Then Dave got the bed that he'd share with Kurt ready, while Kurt hummed quietly from the attached bathroom. Kurt had a nighttime moisturizing routine. Dave didn't begin to understand why, but the results were appreciated.

Afterwards, while LB turned restlessly in his crib, slowly falling asleep, Dave drew Kurt to the bed and spooned behind him. He kept an arm firmly across his waist and asked, "Are you scared about tomorrow?"

"Terrified, actually."

Dave breathed out against the back of Kurt's neck. "It'll be okay."

"Please don't say stuff like that," Kurt begged. "If things go bad tomorrow …"

"They won't. And I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a liar. I'm here, telling you it will be okay. You just need to be honest with the judge. You need to make the judge see that you love LB, and you're the best person to raise him."

"If we get Judge Drew …."

"Bad?" Dave guessed from Kurt's tone of voice.

"Not worth showing up in court. If we get him, I'm going to take LB and we're going on an extended vacation in Russia, or somewhere else no one will ever find us."

Dave went up on an elbow. "You don't mean that."

"Judge Constance Drew has been Edwina Anderson's bridge partner for twenty years. My lawyers said Blaine's mother has been aiming for Judge Drew since this began. She's been trying to buy her choice of judge for months. If it's Drew, Dave, I'm not going in that court room."

"So what?" Dave demanded, "You'll just go on the run? Are you kidding me? With a six months old baby? How far do you think you'll get? Think about this, Kurt."

"I'm thinking," Kurt said, rolling to his back so he could look at Dave through the pale light of the room's one lamp, "that LB is my world. He's my everything. If I don't have him, I don't have anything."

"And if we get Cooper instead?" Dave hoped desperately for some kind of silver lining.

"I don't know." Kurt turned to him, tucking in tight.

"We'll be okay," Dave promised. "And that's why we're going to talk about what you're going to do when you gain full custody and all of this is over. Are you … Kurt, you moved because you had to lay low with LB. But when that's done, do you still want to … are you going to …"

"I'm not going anywhere." Kurt's lips were dry as they brushed against Dave's jaw. "I want to be with you. I want to be where your are. LB and I are coming back with you."

Dave slumped against Kurt. "Thank you."

"We talked about houses and babies," Kurt chuckled. "Did you think I was just going to leave you behind and pretend like none of this mattered?"

"Well …"

Kurt reached up and tapped Dave on the nose. "Dork."

LB's voice drifted up from his crib.

"He's not going to go to sleep, is he?" Dave asked. He was used to LB sleeping with them, even though he had his own room at Kurt's place, and Dave's spare room had quickly become LB's. It just seemed a comforting measure for Kurt to have LB close to them, and most nights the baby slept feet from them.

Kurt's head lifted just a little. "Probably not for a while. He slept in his carrier just after dinner, and he doesn't recognize the ceiling here. He probably doesn't feet comfortable, even if he knows we're right here."

"I think he's picking up on our nervousness, too."

"Maybe." Kurt closed his eyes. "Can you just … can you hold me? I want to try and pretend, just for a little while, that we're back at your place, and everything is normal and nothing bad is going to happen."

Dave gathered him close. "Okay. I can do that. Keep your eyes closed. We're good."

"Kurt, baby," Dave said softly, reaching for Kurt's hand in the car. "I think you should try and eat something. Anything." Dave nudged a white bag at Kurt, evidence that they'd been out early that morning, picking up coffee and donuts for everyone in the house, nerves too high strung to even think about cooking.

Kurt gripped his coffee thermos tightly. "Not hungry."

"Kurt."

"Dave." Kurt tore his eyes away from the courthouse. "I think if I eat anything I'll be sick. I know you don't want that for the upholstery."

"Deep breaths," Dave advised. "We're okay. We're going to be okay."

"Right. Let's go. We can't be late."

Dave met Kurt's lawyer for the first time twenty minutes later. He looked like he was good, if it was possible to determine that from appearance. Rather, he looked well put together and professional. He was probably one of the best money could buy, and Dave didn't doubt that Kurt would spend every penny Blaine had left him on the lawyer, if it meant keeping LB.

"It's Cooper," the lawyer said. "We just dodged a bullet, it's Dale Cooper."

Kurt visibly sagged in relief, and Dave hugged LB a little closer to his chest. The baby hadn't slept well the previous night. Dave had looked him over that morning, mostly at Kurt's urging, and hadn't been able to find anything seriously wrong, other than a mild case of exhaustion. All the same, it was evident that LB wasn't feeling up to par with how silent he was, and how he mouthed extra hard at whomever was holding him. Dave had had him in his arms for a good part of the morning, only parting for the car ride.

"So we have a chance?" Dave asked, speaking up for the first time.

The lawyer nodded. "Cooper isn't a complete homophobe, neither is he in Anderson's back pocket. If we play this right, it could go in our favor. At the very least, Kurt, you'll be getting some visitation right."

"Some?" Kurt shook his head. "I'm not going to share my son with that witch. I'm not going to let her poison LB, and let him think that there was something wrong with the fact that Blaine and I loved each other. She'll take him. She'll take him and run and I'll be lucky if he remembers me in a year."

"Calm down," the lawyer advised. "Let's not jump the gun on anything just yet."

There was a lot of talking after that. The lawyer ran through how the court proceedings would go, the types of questions that Kurt would be asked, and the kind of implications that would be made. Dave tried to follow, but even cop shows like Law and Order bored him, and the real life stuff, no matter how important, wasn't any better. Then there was LB, who refused to be held still.

Finally, Kurt took pity on him and said, "We're going to be a bit longer, we're not scheduled to start with the judge for another hour. How about you take LB out for some fresh air? And keep a look out for dad and Carole. They should be here shortly."

Dave nodded and stood, hefting LB's baby bag over one shoulder. "I think some fresh air will do him good."

Kurt wiggled his fingers at the baby and said, "Go ahead."

Dave took LB from the room that had been designated to Kurt and the lawyer. He shut the door quietly behind him and rubbed a hand along LB's back. "You're doing just great," he told the boy. "I know, this is completely stressful. It sucks, but we're going to make it through this just fine." It was hard for Dave to imagine, but a month earlier he'd been alone, without Kurt or LB in his life. It seemed such a lonely and cold notion now.

LB's face pressed into the juncture at Dave's neck and shoulder, like Kurt did sometimes, and Dave braced a hand under this bottom. "You're getting heavy, buddy."

He checked LB's diaper, and then took him out to the car where he was able to set LB down in the backseat while he reached for a small jar of baby food that had been packed by Kurt that morning.

LB made a face at the applesauce and Dave returned it. "I know, you'd rather have your bottle, but I don't have a spare microwave lying around here anywhere. You're going to have to settle for this until I can find a place to warm your formula. And it's not that bad. Really." Dave took a bite as an example. "Wow," Dave said with a forced smile, "this is honestly worse than dog food."

LB looked at the applesauce with constant hesitation. Dave didn't blame him.

Dave had to put a hat on LB, and change his shoes from the booties Finn had snuck on the baby, to the harder, more appropriate shoes Kurt had bought, and then they were ready to do. LB was just as sullen and quiet as he had been before.

Dave would have liked to have said that he saw her coming. But he didn't know what she looked like. Maybe he'd just assumed that she'd have a dark aura around her, or a neon flashing sign that said she had a loan out on her soul to the devil. In any case, Dave was certain Kurt would be the one to point her out. He never thought the first time he faced her he'd be alone.

But then there was Edwina Anderson in front of him, and Dave knew it was her by the way she was staring him down and demanded, "Who are you, and what are you doing with my grandson?" She was old and frail looking, but when she made an almost desperate lunge for LB, the baby reeled backwards. It was good enough for Dave.

"I don't think so lady." Dave shielded LB from her grabby hands. "Hands off."

She looked offended. "You have no right to tell me-"

"Kurt," Dave cut in smoothly, "wouldn't want you to touch him, and that's good enough for me. Don't pretend like he'd be okay with it."

"He is my grandson."

The horrible thing was, Dave could see the resemblance between them. They shared the same petite nose, the same skin coloring, and though her hair was now a gray color, the same curls. It was easy to see that they were related, but in Dave's book, that didn't give her the right to even breathe near LB.

"He's Kurt's son."

Edwina scoffed loudly and Dave's eyes narrowed.

"And who," she drawled out, sounding pretentious and entitled and everything Dave already hated, "are you?"

Kurt's boyfriend? No, that wasn't an answer he wanted to give her. It sounded too juvenile. But neither was he Kurt's partner, not yet. He settled on, "Someone who cares more about Kurt and LB than you can imagine. Someone who'll fight for them. That's all you need to know."

He didn't have her fooled. It was plain on her face that she knew he was connected to Kurt somehow. It didn't take her long to guess, "I might have suspected that Mr. Hummel would hardly mourn my beloved son's passing."

"Blaine died five months ago."

"Don't speak of my son!" she hissed at him and Dave saw the claws come out.

Dave held his ground. "And for your information, not that I think you care, but you should know, Kurt loved Blaine as much as one human being is capable of loving another. That much. And when Blaine died, Kurt almost died with him. Blaine was his world, and his world ended the day that Blaine died. So don't try and say that Kurt didn't care about him at all, and moved on right away. Kurt still hasn't moved on."

Her nose rose in the air as she declared, "He never deserved Blaine."

"I don't even know why you're talking to me." Dave shrugged. "I'm not going to give you LB, and I'm not going to stand here and listen to you trash the most important person in my life right now. Kurt and Blaine deserved each other. They loved each other. They made each other happy."

"It was a passing phase," Edwina insisted, "something all boys do in college, without proper supervision."

Dave asked her flatly, "You think all boys feel each other up in college? I think you have a pretty skewed view of college. And lady, I hate to break it to you, but even if Kurt had never come along, Blaine would have still wanted to take it up the ass."

She gasped and paled. "How dare you!"

"I dare," Dave assured her.

Edwina sputtered, "I have my grandson to think about. Mr. Hummel is a very sick man. His lifestyle choices are more than questionable. They're dangerous. I won't have my grandson exposed to the idea that it is acceptable to choose to be … to be such a vagrant homosexual."

LB's nose was leaking, Dave could feel it against his neck, but he made no move to shift the baby. The last time he'd tried, seconds earlier, LB had whined and clung tighter.

Dave took a deep breath. He hated her. He hated her ignorance and her intolerance. He hated that people like her existed, and refused to acknowledge diversity. But what he hated the most were her assumptions, and judgment and her pure, unadulterated stupidity.

"You don't choose to be gay." It was something Dave had wrangled with for years himself. "No one chooses to be gay. It's how you're born. It's who you are. And you can either embrace it, and love yourself, or you can deny it. But even if you deny it, it doesn't change the fact that it's how you're born, and you can't change it. Blaine was born gay, the same as Kurt, and that's reality."

She pursed her lips. "You're as much of a heathen as Hummel."

"Okay." Dave rolled his eyes. "Just keep in mind today, as you try and take Kurt's son away from him, and drag his name through the mud, and make other people think he's unfit to be a parent, that at the end of the day, he's coming home to me. And to his dad, and to everyone else who loves him. He's coming home to love, and to people who'll take care of him regardless of his sexual orientation or anything else. What do you go home to?"

Dave didn't wait for her answer. Across the way he saw Finn, and his wife, and Dave headed straight for them.

"Are you guys okay?" Finn asked.

"Yeah." Dave nodded. "We're good."

"So they won't let LB in the actual court room," Kurt said when they met back up a half hour later. He grinned bashfully. "I guess I should have figured that. It makes sense, right? He's just a baby."

Dave handed LB over to Kurt and wisely kept quiet about his run-in with Edwina Anderson. "So what are you going to do?"

"Actually …"

"I wanted to be in the room with you," Dave reminded "It was kind of the reason I volunteered to drive us down here."

"I saw Blaine's mother a few minutes ago," Kurt said quietly. "I think she was trying to set me on fire by glaring. I don't … I would feel much better if I knew someone I trusted was taking care of LB while I'm in there fighting to keep him."

Dave asked, "Can't your dad?"

"Dave." Kurt met his eyes and said honestly, "I know you want to be here for me. It means a lot that you do. It means everything. But I mean it when I say I don't actually want you in there. I don't want you to hear what she'll have her lawyers say. I don't want you being judged along with me. I don't want you feeling like you're on trial, too. I don't want you in there. Please, I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"Really?" Dave asked, grinning slightly.

"Really." Kurt kissed his cheek. "It's what I want."

So Dave took a four hour tour of Kurt's home town. LB slept most of the time, something Dave appreciated, and Dave drank a lot of coffee at the local café.

At lunch Dave went back to the courthouse. He found Burt lurking outside a men's restroom, and the sound of retching coming form inside, accompanied by Finn's voice. Carole stood nearby with Hannah, both looking equally as worried.

"What's going on?" Dave asked, LB playful once more and tugging on Burt's offered fingers.

"Kurt's inside, sweetie," Carole explained. "Things have been going rough so far. He's a little shaken."

Dave pushed LB into Burt's capable arms. "I should get in there and-"

"Wait." Burt cleared his throat. "Let Finn take care of him. That's his brother, Dave. Let Finn handle it."

Dave nodded slowly, not happy with the idea, but willing to refer to Burt's judgment. So he waited, and he tried not to worry too much.

When Kurt emerged from the bathroom he had Finn's arm around his shoulder, and a case of the sniffles, but wasn't crying. He gave Dave a small smile and accepted a big hug.

"There's more?" Dave asked him with a whisper.

Kurt huffed a little. "Yeah. Her lawyers haven't even begun to tear into me. I have to go back in in about forty-five minutes."

Dave wrapped him up right and kissed his temple. "Still sure you don't want me in there?"

Kurt sounded shaken as he said, "Even more sure."

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur. Dave took LB to a nearby park, they had naptime, and took several more trips through town, driving aimlessly, before it was time to pick up Kurt.

"Just take me home," Kurt said when Dave guided him into the back seat. Part of Dave had known instinctively to put Kurt back where LB was. And out the window went all of Dave's plans to drive them back to the city. Instead Dave followed Burt back to the house, and helped Kurt along as best he could.

"Want to talk about it?" Dave asked when they were in bed.

"Not supposed to," Kurt mumbled into his pillow. "But you'll be happy, you'll get what you want tomorrow."

"Huh?" Dave nudged Kurt a little. "What's that mean?"

"Judge Cooper wants to talk to you tomorrow."

"Me?" Dave reeled back a little. "Really?"

"Really," Kurt grunted.

On the other side of the room, LB slept soundly. Dave let the soft whistle of the baby's breathing guide him into a more relaxed state. "About what?" he inquired, fingers rubbing at the skin at Kurt's exposed hip.

"Us, I guess." Kurt pushed into Dave's fingers. "I don't know how anyone knew, but they brought you up after lunch."

Dave winced a bit. He wondered if this was the moment he was supposed to tell Kurt about his confrontation with Edwina Anderson. "Kurt … I … there's something I need to say. About that. I …"

Kurt gave a short snore.

"Kurt?"

Kurt snored a again.

Dave smiled and bent to press a kiss into Kurt's shoulder. "I love you," he told the sleeping man. "And tomorrow, I'm going to do whatever it takes to win."

When Kurt had told him that the Judge wanted to talk to him, Dave had expected to be put up on the witness stand. Maybe he'd seen too many episodes of Law and Order. Instead he ended up in the judge's private quarters, alone and filled with a mixture of dread and anxiety.

Judge Cooper was around Burt's age, already gray, with a receding hairline that said it would be gone before the decade was through. And when he'd shown Dave to the room, he'd been able to fairly judge that the man was even taller than Dave was, and broader in the shoulders. But he had a quiet nature to him, and Dave could tell he was thinking, even as he sat silently across from Dave at a large desk.

"Ummm … sir?" God, Dave felt uncomfortable. "Can I ask why I'm here?"

The judge said simply, "I've spoken with both Mrs. Anderson and Mr. Hummel. When both parties made it clear your participation in this case, I knew I needed to speak with you."

"Honestly," Dave said, souring a little, "you already know that I'm with Kurt. You know I'm going to speak on his behalf."

"Humor me," Cooper said. "Surprise me."

"Okay." Dave straightened up in his chair. "What did you want to know?"

"Is your impression of Mr. Hummel that he's a good father? Despite Lucas not being biologically his son."

"Lucas?" It took Dave a moment to place the name. "Oh! You mean LB. Sorry."

"LB?" Cooper asked, surprised but pleasantly so. "A nickname."

Dave nodded. "I always forget his first name. I know, that sounds awful, but no one calls him Lucas. He's always LB. It stands for Lucas Brighton. But Kurt told me maybe it's more for Little Blaine. LB is like Blaine's twin, as far as Kurt tells me. I guess it's Kurt's way of having Blaine still with him. But we can call him Lucas if you want."

"Do you think Mr. Hummel is using LB as a replacement for Mr. Anderson?"

Dave startled a little. "No. No way. LB is a reminder, like a memory, but Kurt knows that they're not the same person. Kurt would never try and make LB into Blaine. Never."

Copper seemed pleased with Dave's quick response, then prompted, "Your opinion on Mr. Hummel as a father?"

"Amazing," Dave said in one word. "When I met Kurt he was out of his mind with worry, and trying to desperately hide it. LB had a little cold, a sniffle, really, barely a fever. He held LB so carefully, and was so gentle with him, and even though I didn't know they weren't related, I believed that they were father and son. Then I started spending more time with them, and I realized that Kurt's the kind of father to LB that every boy should have."

"How so?"

Dave shrugged. "Kurt lets LB be who he is, and do what he wants. I don't mean he lets LB crawl into traffic or anything, but LB's personality is just starting to come out, and Kurt's trying to nurture that. He wants LB to grow up and be whatever he wants to be, or do whatever he wants to do. And I can tell, Kurt wants to protect him from the world so much, but he's not going to. He's going to let LB make his own mistakes, and learn his own lessons, and just be there for him, for when things go south or he needs someone to pull his butt out of the fire. LB is so lucky to have a father like Kurt."

Cooper pointed out, "But technically, Mr. Hummel isn't the father."

Dave scoffed dismissively and waved a hand. "Sure, Blaine's DNA is in LB, but that doesn't mean Kurt is an less his father. And don't forget, if Blaine was still alive, he and Kurt would be raising him together. Regardless, blood doesn't make up family. Family is unconditional love, and that's how Kurt loves LB. Kurt's been there since day one, since before that, since conception. Kurt feeds LB, plays with him, keeps him company, talks to him, loves him, and shelters him. That's what fathers do, right?" Dave shook his head in thought. "You have no idea how torn up Kurt is over the idea of loosing LB. LB is his world. I think if Kurt looses LB, I'm going to loose Kurt."

"Does Mr. Hummel strike you as that unstable? A danger to himself?"

"No." Dave nearly surged out of his chair. "That isn't what I meant, and you know it. You know what I meant. Kurt's a father who might have his son torn out of his arms. If it was you, how would you be doing? How would you react? I guess you're supposed to be impartial and all, but I see the pictures in here. I know you have kids. Imagine if you found out suddenly that one of them wasn't yours biologically. You wouldn't love them any less, would you? And you wouldn't let anyone take them away from you."

Cooper leaned back in his chair, hands folding over his stomach. "But Mr. Hummel hasn't just founds out that LB isn't his."

At that, Dave had to nod wearily.

"Don't you believe that Mrs. Anderson has certain rights to her grandson?" Cooper asked him. "Her only child is now deceased."

"Kurt think she'll hurt him."

"Excuse me?" Cooper popped up in his seat. "Hurt him?"

"Not physically," Dave assured. "I don't think she would ever hurt LB physically. But I agree with Kurt that she'd hurt him in a worse way. If LB grew up with her, or spent most of his time with her, he'd grow up thinking that there was something wrong with Kurt, or that he'd done something to Blaine to make him love him. She'd teach him that only some kinds of love are right, and that if you're a different way, it's bad. I think Edwina Anderson would teach LB intolerance and maybe hatred. That's the exact opposite of what Kurt would teach him."

Cooper started at him. He stared hard and for a while, and Dave fought the urge to shift around, or ask what the problem was. He hated be started at, and he was starting to hate the office space that was making him claustrophobic. It felt like he'd been in it forever.

Finally, Cooper posed, "Mrs. Anderson's main argument is that Mr. Hummel can't provide LB a healthy home because of his homosexuality. I assume you're invested in a serious relationship with him, or you wouldn't be here."

"I love Kurt," Dave said, feeling strong. "I love absolutely everything about him. I am in love with him. I can say it a million times, and a million different ways. He's the best person I've ever met in my life, and if he'll have me, I want to be there with him for decades and decades. I want to raise LB with him. I want us to be a family. Now, I'm not saying there won't be hard times, or bad times, but what I am saying is that I'm not going anywhere. LB is always going to have the both of us, and no matter what happens with Kurt and me, he's always going to know he's loved."

"You consider LB yours?"

"I want to be his father," Dave confirmed. "I want to go to father-son baseball games, and give him girl advice-or boy, whatever, and I want to write that first check for college. I want him to depend on me, and value me, and want me. That's how kids think of their fathers, and that's how I want LB to think of me. It's how he'll think of Kurt."

"And the fact that you and Kurt are homosex-"

"We're two people," Dave snapped, "who love each other, and just happen to be male. Our biological gender has nothing to do with how much we can love or provide for LB. Mrs. Anderson is a bigot. That's what she is in the simplest of terms. Being gay is not a bad thing, and this is what I'm talking about. Blaine was gay. LB's father was gay. But if she gets her hands on LB, he'll grow up to think there was something wrong with his father, or bad. I didn't know Blaine. And I never would have met Kurt if Blaine hadn't died. But I believe Kurt when he tells me that Blaine was amazing and wonderful and everything you could ask for in a parent. Because he loved Kurt, and gave Kurt LB, I won't let her ruin or besmirch his name."

"And what if I don't believe that a homosexual couple should raise a child?" Cooper asked.

His heart skipping a beat, Dave said, "Then I feel sorry for you. Being so narrow minded is a terrible way to go through life. We get one shot at life, you know? One chance to do good and be good and make a good impact. I'm healthy, I have a good job, I love Kurt, and together we can provide LB with a home filled with laughter and love. I just don't get how there could be a shadow of doubt in anyone's mind when you consider that. With us, LB will never need or want. He'll always have an ear ready to listen, or a shoulder to cry on. That's what Kurt and I will give him, and my sexual orientation has nothing to do with any of it."

The first thing Dave said to Kurt when he saw him after meeting with the judge was, "I'm sorry. I think I fucked up." Then he pressed his face into Kurt's shoulder and shuddered.

To his credit, Kurt didn't ask him how. He simply brought his hands up to cradle Dave to him, and hummed quietly.

"Another day?" Dave asked when Kurt informed him he had to go back to the courthouse the following morning. "I know you said this could go on forever, but how many times can lawyers tell the judge the same thing?"

They were together, back at Burt and Carole's house, sitting alone in the living room as the rest of the family prepared dinner together in the kitchen. Kurt balanced LB on his knees, trying to help the baby stand on his own. "It's the ruling," Kurt said. "The judge is going to make his decision tomorrow."

"Shit," Dave swore, sinking into the cushions. "I have to be back at work tomorrow morning. When's the ruling?"

"Noon. Or there about."

Dave swore again, this time quieter. "Maybe I could call and talk to Sylvester. I could-"

"Dave." Kurt leaned over the distance between them to kiss him gently. "You've been here for us during the worst of it. Tomorrow you go back to work. I'll call you the second I know."

"I'll come pick you up tomorrow," Dave insisted. "My shift ends at seven. I can be here by nine. LB can sleep in the car on the way home." Dave didn't miss the way Kurt's face shifted subtly as Dave mentioned them bringing LB home. "Can you have the both of you ready to go by then?"

"You don't have to."

Dave rolled his eyes. "I'll pick you up at nine."

"Thanks," Kurt whispered.

Dave waved a hand at Kurt, beckoning him closer, and then helped the man slide LB carefully to the floor. "We're going to be okay," Dave said. He let Kurt tip so he was laying on the sofa, his head on Dave's lap. "I swear to you." He allowed one hand rest on Kurt's head, fingers threading through hair. "And have I ever lied to you before?"

"No," Kurt admitted.

Dave could see Burt from the kitchen, watching them carefully. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if he ended up breaking his word to Kurt. He wasn't sure Kurt would ever forgive him, or the rest of the family.

"Rest," Dave urged. "It's been a long, crappy day. Rest before dinner."

Kurt's eyes closed and Burt mouthed a thank you at Dave.

Dave would never forgive himself if he couldn't keep his word.

Dave woke to Kurt's airy, high voice. It took him a minute to come to his sense, and recognize the painted walls of the room Kurt had grown up in. It took even longer to place himself on the bed, turned nearly sideways with the blankets kicked down to his feet. And there, across the room, was Kurt, still dressed in his pajamas and leaning over the crib's high railing. He was singing, something Dave could barely make out, and didn't recognize, but singing all the same. Sometimes Kurt sang LB to sleep at night, but this seemed different.

"Kurt?" Dave asked, voice scratchy from sleep. "What time is it?"

"Early," Kurt said quietly. "You can go back to sleep if you want."

"No. No. I'm up." Dave cleared his throat. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Is he even awake?"

Kurt nodded. "Woke me up about fifteen minutes ago."

Dave stood, and with a much better view of the crib he could see LB sitting up, still looking a little tried, but awake. "What were you singing?" Dave joined Kurt at the crib and kissed his temple. Long gone were the days that Dave was disappointed over a lack of morning kiss. Kurt rarely kissed in the morning, especially before breakfast.

"A song my mother used to sing me when I was little. It's a song about a mocking bird. I remember when I was little I tried so hard to get the lyrics just right. They're kind of tricky for a few verses. I didn't master the song until after she died. I sing it to LB sometimes. Mostly when I'm stressed out."

Dave kissed him once more, then said, "I know I called you crazy when you said you'd take LB and run if this didn't go our way … but now …" How could Dave be parted from the big, hazel eyes stating up at him? LB trusted him so much, it was clear on his innocent face. LB expected to see him every morning when he woke up, and every night before he went to bed. Dave expected the same. Anything different was …

"Not so crazy when you think about it?"

"When you think with your heart," Dave compromised. "And not with your head."

LB's arms came up for Kurt and the man lifted him accordingly.

"Breakfast?" Dave asked. If they had breakfast, they could pretend that everything was okay for just a little longer.

Kurt settled LB onto his hip. "I'll make pancakes."

Dave ate five. But in his defense, they were good. Kurt made them just right, completely fluffy, but with enough weight to satisfy. And he made a bunch of different kinds. Dave couldn't decide if the banana and walnut were his favorite, or the blueberry. And the chocolate chip wasn't to be discounted either. Even LB, who was still mainly on his formula, gnawed on a plain pancake.

Afterwards, they left LB with Burt and Carole, and sat out on the house's front steps. Dave tucked Kurt in close and refused to let go. When Dave kissed him, Kurt tasted like syrup, and fresh fruit, and all the best things.

"I like this," Kurt said, holding Dave's hand loosely. Cars drove past them at a leisurely pace, and it was shaping up to be a nice day, barely any clouds in sight. Dave figured he could sit outside with Kurt for hours, if he was allowed. He'd give anything for that option.

Finally, Kurt stood from the steps and turned back to Dave. He offered a hand and said, "It's time to get moving. We each have somewhere to be."

"Sure we can't just sit out here for the next two or three years?"

"If only," Kurt said wistfully, and in the morning light, he'd never looked more beautiful to Dave.

Everything went quickly after that. And there wasn't much Dave could do to delay the reality of where each of them needed to be. He wanted so badly to blow off work, but Sylvester was already ridding his ass hard, no doubt Santana had gone and bitched to her about the reaming Dave had given her for the things she'd said to Kurt. Santana, who was only volunteering at the clinic under pressure from her girlfriend, was Sylvester's gofer, as far as Dave was concerned.

"Give me a second with LB? Dave asked, bags by the door.

Kurt nodded. "I think my dad has him. Or maybe Carole. They're … I only ever stopped to think about what loosing LB would mean to me. But the truth is, he means just as much to them. He's their grandson. They love him too."

Dave kissed the corner of Kurt's mouth. "I'll only be a second, okay?"

Dave found LB with Burt, in the den, the older man leafing through a photo album. "Mr. Hummel?" Dave asked, unsure.

"Call me Burt."

"Uh … Burt." Dave coughed a little. "I was wondering if I could have LB for a little. I have to … I'm going to leave in a few minutes. I wanted to see him alone for a second."

Burt didn't look like he wanted to relinquish LB at all, but then he nodded slowly and beckoned Dave closer. "I was just looking at some pictures. Mostly of when Kurt was a baby, but there are others in here."

Dave settled LB against his shoulder and looked down at the pictures. And there was Kurt, small for his age, with even rosier cheeks than he had now, glassy eyes, and still perfectly styled hair. "Oh, god," Dave laughed, chest rumbling, "he even dressed like that as a baby."

"Since about two or three," Burt agreed with his own smile. "Kurt's always been assertive, and he knew what he wanted young. His fashion sense is something that he's had from the beginning. You know what he wanted for his birthday one year? A pair of sensible heels. Let me tell you, that was an awkward shopping trip."

Dave knew there was little time, but the pictures were so undeniably captivating. Burt turned a few more pages and Dave said, "Wait. Wait a second. Is that Blaine?" It was a picture, loose from the photo album, just floating in between pages. Burt picked it up so Dave could see more clearly the imagine of two boys, one of them Kurt, arms thrown around each other, at some kind of party.

"Yeah," Burt said. "That's Blaine. You haven't seen a picture before?"

Dave shook his head. "I spent … I guess you could say I spent a good portion of my relationship with Kurt being jealous of the guy. Jealous of a guy who wasn't there physically, but I felt was still taking Kurt from me. I know it sounds stupid, and Kurt has the biggest heart of anyone I know. But when that special someone comes around, you know, the one, it's hard to make room in your heart for anyone else. I was scared for a while that I wouldn't fit."

"What makes you think Blaine was the one?" Burt asked, curious.

Dave tapped the picture. "Look at Kurt's face. It sure looks like it. What was this picture from?"

Burt hesitated to answer, then said, "Their engagement party."

"Yeah," Dave said softly. "They look in love."

Burt closed the album, hiding the picture from view. "You're right. And it's the same way he looks at you."

LB was getting restless as Dave said, "I've told him I love him. I mean it, too. But he hasn't said it back yet."

"Kurt likes to be sure of things, before he says them." Burt shrugged. "Haven't you learned by now that you have to be patient with him?" Burt stood and headed to the door. "I'll go check on how Kurt's doing, maybe get your bags into the car. You take whatever time you need down here with LB."

When Burt was gone, Dave spun in a circle in the den. He'd never been down here, not in the two days he'd stayed. It looked like any other den might have, with a couch, a TV, and pictures littering the walls. Most of them were of Kurt, and another woman, not Carole, but then also how Dave knew their family to be now. There were some of Blaine, too, and he really was handsome.

"I have to go, buddy," Dave told LB softly, rubbing his back as the baby looked around. "But I want you to know, I'm going to see you soon. You'll probably be sleeping tonight, but you'll see me first thing in the morning. We'll have breakfast together, and finally get around to going to that science museum. And I think I owe you some finger painting."

Dave sighed. He needed to go, he still had to drive back, shower, and then get to work. But standing there, in Kurt's father's house, holding LB, nothing else felt more important.

"I love you," Dave said, dropping kisses to the baby's head. "I love you and I love your daddy and if … if something goes wrong. If I can't be there for you, I hope you know somehow that I love you, and I didn't give you up by choice." Dave paused, then added, "And if your daddy goes crazy and takes you to Mexico, well, I like Mexican food."

"I'm not going to go crazy and take him to Mexico."

"I like Mexican food," Dave repeated, looking over to find Kurt in the doorway.

"We'll get Mexican food for lunch tomorrow. Okay?"

"Trying to stay positive?" Dave asked, walking to his side.

"No." Kurt shook his head. "I don't have to. I know everything is going to be okay. I know."

"Sounds good."

Dave left after that. He had no choice. He left Kurt standing in the driveway, waving sadly to him. It was a wretched feeling in his stomach, one that said he was wrong, and he needed to go back, and get Kurt. But Dave kept driving. He drove because he wasn't sure what else he could do.

He was late to work. It was only a couple of minutes, but as Dave sat in the changing room, swapping out his shoes, he couldn't bring himself to rush. He couldn't stop thinking about Kurt, and of how much of a mistake it had been to leave. Going to work seemed stupid. Or maybe just a waste of time.

"I want to talk to you."

Dave looked up to see Quinn standing at the doorway. "You have this habit of cornering me in the locker room."

"I hope you don't think I haven't already seen your junk."

Dave rolled his eyes. "I hope you don't think I haven't seen your boobs."

Quinn moved closer. "I need to talk to you."

Dave eyed her for a moment, then said quietly, "I know how you got that bruising."

A small, delicate hand came up to brush against her left cheek. "You can see it? I put about a pound of foundation on this morning."

"I shared an apartment with a guy a couple years ago, back before I finished my program. His girlfriend had a pretty back temper. Didn't help matters that she was about his size, and she liked to kick box on the weekends for fun. She beat the crap out of him from time to time, and he was too much of a gentleman to ever hit back, or turn her in. He got pretty good at covering it up, but then I got pretty good at seeing through the makeup. My point is, I don't condone violence, but thank you."

Quinn nodded, and crossed her arms. "Santana had it coming. I didn't think she'd hit back half as hard as she did, but she got what she deserved. Kurt's good for you Dave. He's done more for you in a month than … he's just good for you. Okay? And what she did was mean and spiteful. She said what she said to him just to get at him, to rattle him, and to rattle you. Because that's who she is, and what she does."

"Still."

She shrugged. "You did for me, so I did for you."

Dave questioned, "I did for you?"

"Puck," she said simply. "That day, at the fundraiser. You stopped him from being an idiot, which he's more prone to than either of us would like."

Dave bent to finish tying his shoe and supposed, "You talked to him, then?"

"He called."

Dave wasn't sure how far go with the topic, he'd never known where the line was. It was too hard to tell with Quinn, who kept things closer to her heart, and Puck, who never said anything about the things that really mattered to him. But now seemed as good a time as ever to toe it, especially with how anxious he was over Kurt, and how involved he'd already gotten with Quinn and Puck. And Beth.

"What did you talk about? About her?"

Quinn shook her head. "About us. He's done some thinking, and so have I. Being apart has been good for us. We got to concentrate on ourselves and not on the other, or Beth."

"Puckerman really loves you, you know. He drove a car through a hospital for you. Don't get me wrong, it was wrong, and stupid, and he should be cleaning toilets for a century to make up for it, but I'm saying I understand why he did. The motivations behind it, I guess, aren't so hard to imagine. For Kurt, I'd do anything."

She sat gingerly on the edge of the bench Dave straddled. "He told me he went to see her. Actually, he goes all the time. Once a week."

"Tina always look the other way," Dave said with laugh. "She uncovered his dirty little secret two weeks into his visits. Tina covers for him because she can see what Puck's only just beginning to realize."

"What's what?"

Dave stood, smoothing out his scrubs. "Seeing Beth is good for Puck. He wasn't ready to be a father. That's the truth, no matter how you try and spin it. The same as you weren't ready to be a mother. He wasn't ready then, and he probably still isn't ready now, but seeing her, it makes him strive to be better. Creating a child is just about the best thing you'll ever do with your life. Puck's getting that. She's making him grow up. She's making him a better person. That's what you're seeing reflected back now."

Quinn frowned. "We agreed, when he placed her up for adoption, that we weren't going to go see her. We were going to make a clean break, and try and put ourselves back together again."

"It's not a bad thing that you aren't ready to see her," Dave told Quinn kindly. "Just because Puck is, doesn't mean you have to be."

"Maybe I just don't want to see her."

"Maybe not." Dave shrugged. "I'm just trying to tell you, Puck wants to be in her life. He's not going to raise her, but he's still going to be there for her in any way he can. That's making him responsible. He probably should have already grown up by now, but with Puck, we should take what we can get."

Quinn's eyes were downcast, and Dave thought for a minute that they were done talking. Sometimes she closed off in ways that he couldn't follow. She grew quiet in the least predictable moments, and it could be days more before Dave had a conversation more than a few moments with her. But she surprised him by saying, "I think he looks at Beth and sees what you were talking about. He sees the best thing he's ever done. But what does that make me, then? I know, without a doubt, if I looked at her, I'd see the biggest mistake of my life."

Dave's mouth ran dry. "I …"

"How could Noah and I even think about being together some day, if he wants to be in her life, and I don't?" Quinn asked.

"I don't know," Dave answered honestly. "But that's something you guys will figure out. You're pretty dysfunctional at your worst of times, but I've also seen you at your best. You're good when you're good. You forget, I knew you before the hospital incident."

Quinn's eyes narrowed suspiciously and she asked, "Did you get Noah his community service at the clinic? I've always suspected. The judge did want to send him down to Cyprus Hills. Noah would have lost his mind with the other loony's there, cleaning up after them. But I know for a fact, someone stepped in, and someone persuaded the judge to send him towards the clinic instead. It was you, wasn't it?"

Dave did something then, something he'd never felt comfortable enough to do with her. He'd known her for years and years, since their time together at school, but he'd never felt this close to her. Never this empathetic. So he leaned over, and he kissed her cheek. She smelled like peaches and her skin was soft like Kurt's.

"I thought he was just this punk who refused to grow up and act like the adult he was. I couldn't stand him, Quinn. But I knew he meant something to you, so I volunteered the clinic. That's all that it was."

"I'll break Santana's nose for you. I'll break it twice over."

Dave burst out laughing loudly, and it felt great. "Get back to work you slacker."

"I'm not the one who's late."

She held the door open for him and Dave passed through feeling just a bit better.

The good feeling, however, was gone by lunch time. Dave took his break outside, back by the loading ramp that Puck had once driven his car through. He was too nervous to eat anything, and instead he smoked a cigarette with a shaking hand. He'd tried to cut back almost completely the moment LB had come into his life. And it seemed like Kurt had a sixth sense for whenever he'd had a cigarette. Kurt hated the smell, and always gave him hell for it. So up until now, he'd smoked very irregularly. Now, all Dave wanted was a whole pack to himself and to be left alone for his lunch hour.

By the time his shift was three quarters of the way through Dave had snapped at three of his workers, been bitten twice by an angry toddler, had a thorough dressing down from Sylvester about being late, and still hadn't heard a word from Kurt.

It was near impossible for Dave to concentrate on his patients. Kurt would have already been to court. The judgment would have already passed. There was no reason that Kurt shouldn't have called by now. Well … there was one. And that made Dave stop. It made him stop and shiver a bit.

Dave called Kurt's cell first. With less than an hour left in his shift, calling was probably the wrong word. After he received no answer, and the phone went to voicemail, Dave called several more times in quick secession. Then he called the newly programmed number for Burt's house phone. And then Finn's cell phone. No one was answering. There was no response from Carole, either, and Dave felt lost. He didn't know what to do.

"I have to leave," Dave decided, and announced to Mike the moment he saw him.

Mike pointed at his chest. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I … I don't know." Dave grimace. "I don't know. I don't. But I have to go."

"Hey, Dave!" Artie wheeled himself around the corner.

"Not now," Dave said, waving him off. "I have to go. If Sylvester notices I'm gone, which she probably will, because she's been riding me all morning like she thinks we're at the rodeo, tell her that if she has a problem with me ducking out fort-five minutes early, she can shove it."

Mike's eyes widened. "I don't think you mean that."

"Dave," Artie tried again.

"I do," Dave insisted. Because something was wrong with Kurt. Something was wrong and Dave hated that he was two hours away. He had to get back to where Kurt was. He had to leave right away and find out why no one was answering their phones, and why Kurt hadn't called him hours ago to tell him what the judge had decided.

Dave barreled past the two of them as Artie called after him, "There's someone-"

Dave didn't stop to change his clothes. He bypassed the changing room altogether and headed towards the main doors of the hospital entrance. He had to pass by numerous patients, and a good deal of his co-workers, but he paid none of them any mind.

"Dave!"

"Busy!" He called out. It seemed like the world was turning against him, and everyone was trying to stop him from getting to his car.

"David Karofsky!"

Dave skidded to a halt. He knew that voice.

"Kurt?"

There was Kurt, standing right in the middle of the waiting room nearest the first bank of elevators. He was standing there, dressed more casually than Dave had left him that morning, and he looked almost forlorn. His eyes were red, his face puffy, and he was alone. Where Kurt went, LB went, but there was no baby now. There was only Kurt, and Dave felt his stomach drop out from under him.

"Kurt … I …" Dave didn't know what to say, but he felt his own eyes begin to burn. It was all too clear. Kurt had lost LB. LB was gone, and here was Kurt, about to break into a tiny pieces, and Dave wasn't any better. "Oh, Kurt. No, Kurt."

Then loudly, a baby giggled. Dave traced the sound across the nearly empty waiting room. And he saw Quinn. But more importantly, he saw the baby in her arms. He saw LB.

Woah!" Kurt said, at Dave's side a second later, looping an arm around his bigger torso. "Are you okay?" Dave couldn't quite get his legs to support him, and it felt good to have Kurt there, being strong for him.

"But … you … the baby … I …"

"I got him," Kurt breathed out, eyes tearing up in what Dave recognized suddenly to be happiness. Kurt had been crying, but not out of sadness. He'd only been happy. He'd been overjoyed. "I got him, Dave. I got full custody."

Kurt gasped loudly as Dave squeezed him into a tight hug. It was too much. Dave could barely breathe.

Quinn said loudly, "You forgot to mention how cute this little guy is." Dave couldn't quite understand, at least in that moment, how she doubted herself as a mother. LB looked so natural in her arms, and the baby was certainly happy. She was doing a great job of keeping him occupied while Dave squeezed Kurt to him.

"You got him?" Dave asked, voice wavering.

"I got him," Kurt said, this time stronger and louder. "I got full custody. I had to sign some paperwork, but he's mine. There's another review I have to go through, and a visit from a state worker, but he's mine. Adopted and completely legal."

"But what about Edwina Anderson?"

Dave could taste Kurt's tears as they kissed quickly, Kurt up on his tiptoes and Dave's hands now on his hips. "She got visitation rights."

"But she can't take him from you?" Dave clarified. When Kurt nodded, Dave nearly shouted, "Why didn't you call me?"

"I wanted to surprise you," Kurt said, his fingers wrapping around one of Dave's wrists. "I wanted to come here and surprise you, so I took one of the cars my dad is working on. He said it needed to be driven a bit to see if the kinks had all been worked out. I was coming to surprise you and I asked everyone not to pick up if you called."

"I tried for hours." Dave knew he sounded pitchy, and maybe frantic, but he couldn't help it. He'd been worried. He'd been more than worried.

Kurt's fingers tracked his pulse. "Dad did a great job on the engine. But LB and I got a flat tire on the way here. It took a while. Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just … I wanted to be the one to tell you. I wanted to tell you, so there wasn't even a shadow of a doubt."

"That he's ours?"

"He's ours," Kurt said definitively. And Dave cried.

That night, when Dave whispered to him, "Tell me and I'll stop," he never felt more complete. Kurt was under him, stretched out and pliant, panting for it, and nodding fearlessly. And then Dave was sliding home, careful and not nearly as fast as he wanted to, but at just the right pace for Kurt.

"I love you," Kurt said, angling up for a kiss as Dave struck deep in him. "I love you so much."

Dave heaved himself up on his haunches and leaned more powerfully into Kurt, striking his prostate, mouthing at his neck wantonly. "I love you too."

"I'm sorry," Kurt gasped out, one ankle hooking around Dave's waist. He used the other foot to anchor himself to the bed and thrust down more firmly into Dave's firm strokes. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Talking seemed madness, not when all Dave could concentrate on was working himself deeper into Kurt, and his hand on Kurt's hard length. "For what, baby?"

Kurt gave a strangled, sudden cry as Dave hit particularly deep. "For … for …" Dave grinned wickedly, biting into Kurt's skin, nibbling on the tender flesh. He hoped desperately for a mark by morning.

"For what?" Dave teased, moving fast, snapping his hips harder. He was determined for their first time to be quick and fast, passionate and mind blowing. The next round, that was when they would go slow, and Dave would shower him with romance. But for now, there was only desperate need.

Kurt's nails dug into Dave's shoulders. "For waiting to tell you!" He threw his head back and wailed, and Dave didn't care if LB woke in the next room.

"Kurt," Dave whispered once he'd come, and once he'd brought Kurt off, and they were laying together in the bed, sweaty and panting and sated.

"Hmm?" Kurt's head rolled lazily towards Dave.

"It was worth it."

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed. "Worth it?"

Dave kissed Kurt's shoulder, and then leaned up for a proper one. He explained, "It was worth waiting for the time to be right, for you to say you loved me."

"Oh," Kurt said, still sounding dazed. "Oh. Okay. Want to go again?"

Dave laughed, rolled over him and leaned in for another kiss. "Give me five minutes. I'll see what I can do."

Dave was a lot of things. Stupid wasn't one of them. So when an extended shift at the hospital had him missing dinner, a dinner that Kurt had told him not to be late for that morning, Dave brought a bottle of Kurt's favorite wine with him. And a basket of cherries. Kurt loved cherries, hopefully more than he liked yelling at Dave.

Carefully, very carefully, Dave slid the lock on the front door open and peeked his head in. "Hello?" There was no response. Dave frowned. It was unusual for there not to be a response. "Anyone here?"

Dave drifted towards the kitchen. Everything was perfect, not a dish in sight, the floor sparkling clean. It was hard to tell if Kurt had even cooked in the kitchen earlier. Dave set the cherries in the refrigerator and placed the wine on the table. "Kurt?"

There was sudden, thundering patter of feet and Dave had just enough time to brace himself before a war cry sounded and Dave's legs were being attacked.

"Woah!" Dave fought to keep his balance for a moment, then looked down at the figure hugging his legs. "Hey there, LB." He put a hand on shaggy brown hair affectionately.

"Hi, Dad. You're home."

Dave bent a little to lift the little boy up into a swinging hug. "It looks like you're all ready for bed."

LB beamed at the Iron Man pajamas he wore. Kurt hated the red and gold pajamas that LB wore almost obsessively to bed, but the boy would not be parted from them, and against Kurt's wishes, Dave had even bought him a second pair. The pajamas, however, made Dave realize just how late he was. He had been dark by the time he'd left the hospital, and making the detour to the market had taken even longer.

"I guess," LB said, feet kicking restlessly as they dangled.

Dave gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "You guess?" A quick look to the clock said LB's bedtime was only half an hour away. "Buddy, it's seven-thirty. It's late. Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

"No," LB laughed, small hands locking behind Dave's neck. "Daddy didn't say I had to."

"Well, I say you have to." Dave kissed him once more and set him down on the floor gently. "Go brush your teeth. Then I'll come read to you before bed. Does that sound good?"

"Okay," LB agreed easily. His fingers reached up to brush at the fringe on his forehead. "Okay, dad."

Dave looked around, then asked, "Where's daddy?"

LB made a face. "Outside. Boring." He gave Dave a quick wave and scampered down the hall, heading towards the bathroom closest to his bedroom.

"Outside," Dave repeated.

Kurt was, like LB had said, outside. He was sitting on a bench outside, a mug of some kind of steaming liquid, probably coffee, held between two hands. There was a book to the side, and Dave recognized it as one Kurt took each morning with him to school.

"Kurt?"

"I shouldn't be talking to you right now."

"Sorry," Dave sighed, shutting the door behind him and joining Kurt on the bench. "I tried to leave on time. I really did."

Kurt took a drink from his mug. "If you don't tell me that you were very heroic and saved lots of lives, I'm not going to reheat the dinner I had ready for you two hours ago."

Dave smiled slightly, head dipping to tip against Kurt's. "I was very heroic. I saved lots of lives. And I really am sorry. I brought you cherries and wine as a peace offering."

Dave knew he was forgiven when Kurt's head turned completely and they were kissing. Of everything Dave did with him, kissing Kurt was still his favorite.

"You studying out here, babe?" Dave asked, turning the book next to Kurt to get a better look at the title. He remembered Kurt had said something about midterms coming up soon. He knew Kurt was anxious to finish is degree.

"Thinking, actually," Kurt corrected. "You know, there was a reason I wanted you home for dinner tonight."

"Is this one of those moments where you say we need to talk and that's code for I've done something to piss you off?"

"Do I look mad?"

Dave took a moment to consider the question, then said firmly, "No." Kurt didn't. In fact, he looked excited about something. There was a poorly hidden grin on his face, and something electric was in the air. "What's going on?"

Kurt stood slowly, then turned to face Dave. Hands behind his back he rocked for a moment on his feet, then said, "Julie called his morning. Right after you left for work. That what when I called you and asked you to be home for dinner."

"Julie? Julie Hanson? Your friend I met at the coffee house last week?"

A full smile broke onto Kurt's face as he shook his head. "Julie Shaw."

Dave froze, eyes widening. "Julie Shaw?"

Kurt's smile stretched wider. "Julie Shaw."

"Kurt," Dave said slowly, "was she … did she …"

"We're pregnant!"

Dave was on his feet a second later, and he had Kurt in his arms just after that. "We're pregnant?" Dave asked, peppering Kurt's mouth with small kisses. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, no!" Kurt laughed and returned to kisses. "She called. She just confirmed it. She's five weeks in! We're going to be fathers!"

"That's amazing." Dave couldn't help himself. He scooped Kurt off his feet and spun them, overwhelmed with the idea that their surrogate was finally pregnant. Not to say that Dave hadn't felt like LB's father for years now, but there was something different about having a new baby. Dave couldn't pin it down, but it was important. It was life changing.

"It's crazy," Kurt breathed out, arms around Dave's neck like LB's had been five minutes earlier.

Dave asked, "Didn't I tell you?" He recalled the memory too easily. "I told you, Kurt. One day, LB would have a little brother or sister. I said that you'd get your chance, just like you and Blaine had planned, and this is it."

Kurt stilled a moment and said, "And you're next."

"Me?"

Kurt's arms were loose around him. "I know we said two, and two is a good number, but three is even better. Julie said she'd do it. For the both of us, and then this baby and the next one, they'll be half siblings. If you want to, she's game."

That caught Dave off guard. When they'd started trying for a baby with Julie, he'd been under the assumption that it was for one, and once they had their baby with Kurt's eyes, and his pale skin, and everything about Kurt that made Dave love him, they'd be set. The idea of a third child, one with Dave's genetic DNA, had never really been considered.

"Maybe," Dave said, and admitted honestly, "I'll have to think about it." He could be happy with LB and whatever baby they had in eight months. He didn't need a little person of his own. But with the way Kurt's eyes shone at the idea, Dave was willing to give it serious thought.

"Oh!" Kurt said suddenly. "Dave, we have to start preparing. We have to start a college fund, and get a bigger place, and tell LB. Oh, Dave, what if LB-"

"He'll be excited," Dave said. "Just as excited as us. How long as LB been begging for a little brother or sister?"

"Forever," Kurt admitted pleasantly.

"He'll be happy." Dave captured Kurt's mouth in a long, drawn out kiss that left them both wanting for air. "Just as happy as we are."

Kurt hummed in agreement. "Couldn't be happier.