Blaine dug his toes into the hard dirt under the swing set, shifting in the too small swing. For some reason, his parents, who were meticulous about the house, weren't all that concerned about the fenced in yard and despite the fact that Blaine had been too big for the slightly weather beaten swing set for years, they had never taken it down.

He pushed himself back in the swing and lifted his legs, letting himself swing forward just a little ways before stopping himself again.

Today was the perfect first day of summer vacation. Everything about today had been practically designed for lying in the grass with his headphones on and picking shapes out of the clouds, being blissfully unoccupied for a day. That was almost exactly how Blaine had spent his first day of summer vacation for years. It was a ritual.

Once it had started to get warm, he had started having little fantasies about that ritual including Kurt. The two of them lying together in the backyard, Kurt's head resting on his arm or chest, while they talked, maybe kissing lazily in the sunshine with, their bare arms brushing over each other. Taking a little break when Blaine's mom brought out lemonade, and sipping it while they discussed their epic victory at Nationals and whispered about all the perfect romantic things they had done together in New York.

None of the details of the fantasy were really all that realistic. Getting Kurt to lie in the grass was out of the question. And Blaine had never (even the time Mr. Hummel and Carol hadn't realized Blaine was in the house and had left the boys alone for a couple hours) ever seen Kurt in less than a long sleeve, collared shirt with two buttons undone.

Then obviously if they were going to be together it would have to be in Kurt's back yard, not in Blaine's. Carol was more likely to bring them Kool-Aid than lemonade, unless Kurt had made some earlier.

But laying on a blanket, with Kurt fully covered up, possibly griping about sun damage and spraying himself with sunscreen while they drank Kool-Aid would have been a perfect summer day too.

But Kurt was currently at Nationals without him, and would be until The New Directions got back Tuesday night. And Kurt was at McKinley now, and they still had school until Thursday.

Blaine's phone buzzed in his pocket and he jumped and pulled it out immediately, grinning to himself when he saw the picture of Kurt on the screen.

You are going to shit a brick when you find out who Rachel met. At Sardies. WITH FINN.

Blaine quirks his head.

Since when do you say things like shit a brick?

A moment passes

When I calm down enough to tell you, you'll realize why I'm justified.

Blaine waits for a minute, but Kurt has apparently been swept off into something exciting enough to justify the use of scatological phrasing.

He slumps a little bit in his swing, then turns his ringer volume up and goes inside to get his Ipod so that he can lay in the grass and look at the clouds.

He's done this alone every year, and there's a whole summer ahead for him and Kurt.

"I'm going to have another crab rangoon," Burt said triumphantly, plucking the sodium and fat soaked treat from the little wax paper bag it had come in and dropping it right into equally greasy, sodium-y lo mien.

"Kurt keeps you on a pretty short leash with this diet thing," Carol laughed.

"Well, he's right. I mean, Chinese every once in a while isn't gonna finish me off, but I should have been listening to him before it ever happened… the heart attack. Which the little shit makes sure to remind me whenever he gets a chance." Burt was exasperated, but fond.

"Don't worry. We'll keep this our little secret. When the boys get back from New York it'll go right back to fruit, oatmeal and skinless chicken with rice," Carol smiles and squeezes Burt's hand.

"It's weird having the kids gone like this. I was starting to get used to having the three of them running all over the place, instead of just having Kurt skulking around in the basement."

Carol chuckles, "Did you just refer to Blaine as our third kid?"

"I just mean he's around a lot."

"And you like having him around," Carol teases, "You like Kurt's boyfriend, you approve."

Burt sinks back into his chair, grinning reluctantly. "Well, you know, he doesn't exactly make a great first impression… but he's an okay kid. But maybe I don't want to go into summer vacation with him knowing I think that. We don't need a house full of seventeen year olds thinking they get away with things while we're at work."

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry about Kurt and Blaine."

"Yeah, well, I remember how much trouble I got into the summer before my senior year. And I remember being a hormonal seventeen year old with a car."

"And do you remember how many rules your parents set up that you broke anyway?"

"Well… at that point, and considering the guys I knew? It was more like "don't crash a car or knock anybody up, see you at dinner"."

"And Kurt's already got that covered."

"That's not funny, Carol."

"It is when you spent a chunk of the last year thinking you were going to be a grandmother."

Burt nodded in sort of a touche gesture.

"They're seventeen. We can't babysit them all the time. I think we can trust our kids," she cracked a smile. "All three of them. And we could set up some ground rules. I'd like to see Finn working at the shop with you a couple days a week, just so he doesn't sit around playing video games and emptying the fridge. Unless that's going to be a sore spot with Kurt?

"I can take Finn to the shop." Burt shrugged. "A guy should know how to do some basic car stuff, and Kurt grew up in that shop. He can change a tire in his sleep- without getting his clothes dirty. I don't think he'll care, and if he does… there's still a ton of heart healthy stuff he wants to teach me to make."

"Maybe we should have Blaine's parents over for dinner or something," Carol said. "I mean Blaine practically lives here. And the closest we've come to meeting his parents is talking to Diane on the phone to let her know the kids were home from prom. Plus it sounds like Diane is home during the day. I mean, if you're that worried about things getting out of hand, maybe the rules could just be that they stay over there during the day."

Burt cleared his throat, "Uh… I'm not sure about that."

"Why not? I bet Kurt has the perfect fancy meal for meeting the parents planned out already, and I always wished I had known Quinn Fabre's or Rachel Berry's parents better when Finn was dating those girls. Especially considering everything that happened with Quinn. It would have been easier to talk to them if I'd spoken to them for more than five seconds at a PTA meeting one time. I once talked to Rachel Berry's father in line at the grocery store for five minutes before she ran up and I realized who he was because I didn't expect her father to be black. And then it got awkward. I've never even heard anything about her mother."

Burt chuckled. "Rachel Berry has two fathers."

Carol's eyebrows jumped. "Oh." She shook her head. "See, I didn't even know that. The next time Finn starts dating Rachel we should have them over too."

"I'm not so sure about Blaine's parents."

"I know they're probably… you know… a little hoighty toighty, but Blaine's a good kid, I'm sure they're nice people and if Blaine's going to be here all summer I'd like to know them, at least a little."

Burt stabbed a fork into his lo-mien, "I think… I mean I get the impression, that uh… Blaine doesn't have it real easy at home?"

"What do you mean?"

Burt shrugged uncomfortably, "Blaine came by the shop a couple months ago to talk to me about giving Kurt, you know… the talk."

Carol snorted. "Really? Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Because it was awkward enough. And then I actually did talk to Kurt and it was even worse. So I was kinda done with the whole mess. Anyway, the gist was that Blaine told me he didn't really get along with his father and his dad made him help build a car in the driveway to make him…straight. So basically I needed to talk to Kurt because… I could."

"Oh." Carol said softly. "Poor kid."

"That's… why I don't mind them being here all of the time. I'd rather have them both here, singing show tunes all of the way through sports center," Burt rolls his eyes, "than have Kurt… around that."

Carol leaned over in her chair and kissed Burt just at the corner of his mouth, "Have I told you lately that you're a good man and that I am so glad I married you?"

"You've mentioned it, yeah." Burt smiled.

"I don't remember the last time I mentioned it when we didn't have three teenagers in the house though."

"That's true."

"Finish your crab rangoon and brush your teeth. I'll meet you upstairs."

"Yes. Absolutely. You are right. A meeting with Patti Lupone being wasted on Finn is totally worth the phrase "shit a brick"," Blaine laughed.

"I knew you'd see it that way. Have you ever been to New York before?" Kurt asked, with a little bit of a yawn. It had been a longer day than expected.

"Not unless watching Breakfast at Tiffany's four times in a row counts," Blaine laughed.

Kurt laughed and huddled his knees a little closer to his chest, the leather of the chair squeaking underneath him. After his disastrous attempt to talk to Blaine over the girls kissing and cooing noises two nights ago, and the entirely unnerving way three members of rival choirs (two girls, one guy) had raked their eyes over him when he'd been sitting outside his room in his pajamas last night, Kurt had found a little public lounge on the other side of the hallway. It was over air conditioned though, and his summer pajamas weren't quite enough to keep him warm.

"Why did you once watch Breakfast at Tiffany's four times in a row?"

"My mom put it in for me when I had my wisdom teeth out and I was too drugged up to get off the couch and change it myself, so I watched it over and over again until she came home. So no. Not really? What's it like?"

"Loud," Kurt answered, "Bright. A little scary, but just completely amazing. I think I've seen everything in every movie…ever. There's just… theater and art everywhere. I snuck out to the fashion district today- you wouldn't even believe the fabric stores here Blaine. It's insane. I mean really, truly, completely insane."

"Aren't you guys supposed to be staying in the hotel?"

"Yeah. Mr. Shue's ex high school crush, that according to Coach Sylvester, keeps winding up in his apartment all night, is trying to tempt him to stay and do a Broadway show about what a lush she is, and he and Vocal Adrenaline coach keep having this wannabe macho showdowns, so it's like he's completely forgotten we're even here. We can get away with anything. Puck and Lauren are downstairs drinking their third Manhattan as we speak."

"Awesome. So you're having a good time?"

"It's… I feel like I'm in every fairy tale I ever told myself," Kurt said, feeling his cheeks flush at the admission , suddenly embarrassed that he had said it. "Is that stupid?"

"No," Blaine answered immediately, "That's not stupid at all."

"I'm thinking about checking out NYU or Julliard before we go back."

"Wow. Really?"

"Yeah. I mean… I'm here… and, really, Blaine it's incredible here."

"I could see myself at NYU."

"Really?" Kurt yawned, louder this time.

"Should I let you go?" Blaine asked.

"No, not yet," Kurt said, "Is anything interested happening in Ohio?"

Blaine laughed, "See, if I tell you that you will fall asleep."

"Come one, there must be something."

"Okay… I lined up an audition for six flags."

Kurt chuckled. "Is there an outfit with that?"

"There might be," Blaine allowed.

"I'll have to google it."

"You want to help me pick out audition songs when you get back?"

"Of course," Kurt yawned louder this time.

"Okay, you're exhausted, you've got amazing fairy-tale fun to have in the morning. Go to bed Kurt, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay," Kurt sighed, hauling himself out of the chair and stretching his legs a little bit, "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Blaine said, sounding strangely breathless.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Kurt said, stopping in front of his and the girl's door and digging into his robe pocket for his key.

"Wait, Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"I… I miss you."

Kurt smiled to himself, "You just said that."

"I know. I just…"

"Miss me?"

"Yeah. I need to go to bed too. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Blaine."

The team, minus Rachel, who was too much of a mess, Finn who was too much of a guilty mess, and Santana who was too much of a hot angry mess, went directly to Breadstix after the bus dropped them off at school. They ordered a bunch of appetizers to share, passing them around the table in circles as they fumed about how upset they were, how much better they were than Vocal Adrenaline this year, how much they deserved this, and just how many asses they would kick and names they would take next year.

Quinn left first, after staring blankly at the ravioli on her plate and gnawing listlessly on a breadstick for about 10 minutes.

Then Kurt, eager to talk to Blaine and annoyed that no one would join in on his attempts to lighten the conversation by pointing out that they were probably the only losers in Lima that had ever even been to New York, had gotten up, pointedly brushed off his clothes, which Mercedes had noticed were new, but hadn't yet complimented him on, and left, humming.

Then Artie's dad picked him, Puck and Lauren up. Then Mike had to be home, and offered Sam a ride home with him, Brittany and Tina.

Sam and Mercedes flicked each other a look over the table and Sam told Mike he was just going to finish off the chicken strips. Mercedes said she would take him home.

Mercedes watched Sam's eyes track Mike and the girls out of the door, waiting until the door closed behind Brittany before he looked back at her and let out a breath through his grin, which Mercedes echoed.

"Wow," Sam laughed. "You were right."

"Yeah. Glee Club didn't need any more drama during competition," Mercedes sighed. "I think, for the sake of sanity, next year we should require that Rachel stay single for the month before after competition."

"Yeah, we'll make Blaine and Kurt escort her everywhere," Sam chuckled quietly.

"See, now I thought you liked Kurt and Blaine," Mercedes agreed.

Sam scoffs and there's a small pause.

"So… can we talk about it now, or do you want to get some sleep and talk at school tomorrow?" Sam asked cautiously.

Mercedes considered for a moment. She was exhausted, and expected to be home soon, and this might be a long conversation, but they would never get a moment alone at school tomorrow.

"I've got curfew soon," she told him, "Let's talk about it in the car?"

"Okay."

They paid their respective bills on the way out and walked to Mercedes's car in the slightly chilly, humid May air. Mercedes lead, surprised at how quickly her feet seemed to be carrying her to her car.

She shouldn't have been surprised though, not with as long as they had been putting this conversation off. It would have taken a miracle for Rachel, or Finn, or Kurt, or any of the rest of them to go as much as five seconds after kissing someone to assume they were dating and then tell everyone and get all… theatrical about it. She and Sam had agreed five days ago to just wait until after competition to talk about this.

Sam grabbed her hand as she reached the car, and spun her playfully.

"So," he asked, before leaning in and kissing her, the smell of a peppermint she hadn't noticed him eat surprisingly sharp on his mouth.

It wasn't quite like the kiss in New York, in the alcove of the stage door, when he had moved in really slowly, as though purposefully giving her time to decide whether or not she was going to let him kiss her, giving her time to stop him if she wanted to, before lightly pressed his mouth to hers, tipping his head up a little bit, so that even though his mouth stayed closed it wasn't a totally chaste, platonic type of kiss. It was an asking sort of kiss.

He grinned his wide grin at her and Mercedes echoed it but still didn't answer his unasked question.

"I like you," Sam told her.

Her grin stayed on her face, but she pulled her teeth over her bottom lip. It had been unexpected at the time, and it was almost surreal now, after a totally amicable, mature, five day hiatus.

She just wasn't that girl. Not born for the rose and pearl and everything. Sam's previous girlfriends were Quinn, the Barbie blond, and Santana, the stick thin firecracker. Mercedes didn't seem to be Sam's type. And apparently her type was super gay. Absolutely nothing about this seemed to be on the level.

Sam's innocent grin started to fade.

"I like you too," she replied.

Except for that part. She and Sam just sort of clicked, in this easy… no pressure way. After Jesse St. James had swept back into down in a whirlwind of predatory smiles and hipster scarves and Rachel's three way date had become Rachel bringing Jesse to Prom and Mercedes still being the only girl without a real date, it hadn't been awkward between her and Sam. They had hung out. Had fun.

She had wondered, briefly, when Sam had come up to her and told her she was beautiful and asked her to dance, if Rachel had put him up to it. But only briefly, because it was what she wanted, and Sam was being sweet about it, not like he was obligated but like, even if he had been told about the fantasy, he just wanted to give it to her. And then he had walked her home like a gentleman, even though once they got there her father had insisted on giving him a ride back to the hotel.

"So… maybe sometime I could take you on a date that we actually… you know. Plan out. One that doesn't just…happen."

Like it had in New York… another gently, innocently fulfilled fantasy. They had crossed paths in the lobby. She had been over the damn glee girl drama, and Sam was looking for a few hours to not be crammed in a hotel room with too many people. They had sat in the lobby for a while, trying to write songs and not freak out about the fact that their club still didn't have songs written, but New York had been calling.

They hadn't meant to go that far from the hotel.

Sam brushed her bangs casually away from her face and she considered asking, coyly, like in the movies, if what happened in New York was really a date, but it clearly had been, or at least had somehow turned into one halfway through the night. Plus- she didn't do coy. Coy required a kind of fakeness she associated with the Cheerios. Coy was Quinn's defense mechanism, and she didn't want to be like that.

"I'd like that," Mercedes finally said. Sam's grin spread even further across his face.

"Awesome. I'll think of something really good."

"Okay," Mercedes says, a laugh bubbling unexpectedly out of her, which Sam returned.

"But you don't have to go overboard," Mercedes continued, trying to convey that he didn't have to… well… he didn't have to live up to anything after that first time had been so incredible. She was also trying to not make it sound like she was telling him he didn't have to spend any money, but Sam didn't seem to read into it that far.

"I won't," he promised, tugging open the passenger side door of her car. "Maybe… sometime later this week? Once school's out? We could just come back here?" he continued as Mercedes walked over to the driver's side. "Or maybe that coffee shop on the other side of town? Something casual?"

"Okay," she agreed as she put the car in drive.

"Okay."

After a couple years of failing, of watching everyone else somehow magically make this happen (even someone as annoying as Rachel), she couldn't figure out if she was shocked or disappointed that it had been this easy.

She had never thought it would be this easy, having someone ask you out just because they liked you. Not when asking Kurt to confirm they were dating had been so hard, no matter how much nonchalance she had faked, or when giving into Puck so he could use her popularity had been so lackluster.

This was just…nice, she felt warm and excited all over from this. And she didn't want the Glee club to wreck it like they had for Quinn and Finn. Or Rachel and Finn. Or to a lesser extent Artie and Brittany. Or Finn and Rachel the second time. Or Finn and Quinn… the third time?

"So…" Sam started again, "Does this mean that we're dating?"

"You know what? Let's not decide on that now," Mercedes said, "I mean… these last couple days have been-"

"Nice," Sam finished.

"Yeah."

"Mercedes, if I ask you something, do you promise to not get mad until I explain?"

"Of course," Mercedes said softly, realizing how obvious it was that Sam had only ever dated Quinn and Santana.

"Do you mind if… we don't tell the Glee Club for a while?"

Mercedes laughed, "That's actually exactly what I was just thinking."

"Okay. Good. Cause I was just thinking, the only two couples we know who are still together right now are Kurt and Blaine, and Mike and Tina, and they both started dating outside of the whole… glee club mess."

"What about Puck and Lauren?"

Sam pursed his lips for a second, "I think I'm going to count them as "started dating outside of glee club" because I think the whole port-a-potty thing… got into Puck's head."

"Plus Lauren's not really into Glee Club like the rest of us are."

"Yeah. I suppose when you're the state champ in Greco-roman wrestling and no one is stupid enough to slushie you, you do what you want."

Mercedes laughs.

Sam sunk back against the seat, staring out the window for a few minutes before leaning forward and turning the radio on.

Usher's "Yeah" came on, loudly, and Mercedes reached over to turn it down.

"Do you think that Rachel and Finn really dropped us out of the top ten?" Sam asked.

Mercedes, like the entire rest of the team, had been thinking about this since she saw the results.

"I don't think there is any reason to blame them if we don't know for sure," she replied.

"Hmm," Sam said, "That sounds like a 'yes'."

"Well, I know if I'd gotten that solo, there would have been no onstage nookie, that's for sure." Mercedes went on, after Sam's quiet laugh. "They just need to figure out how to separate things. They don't have to sing everything in class while they give each other longing looks from over the piano. No wonder Quinn and Rachel go so crazy every time Finn swaps them, they get it rubbed in their faces so bad."

"Yeah. I always felt bad when Quinn and Finn were doing that," Sam says, then starts. "Sorry… I don't mean-"

"Don't even worry about it," Mercedes shrugged. "I was there. I know you were together. It's stupid for us to pretend that you didn't date Quinn or that you didn't date Santana, or that I didn't date Puck for like… two days."

"You dated Puck?"

"Oh, yeah. Last year, but it wasn't really dating. He wanted to date a popular girl for the week that I was popular and he wasn't."

"Puck never mentioned that," Sam said as they pulled into the hotel parking lot.

"Yeah, well, once I quit the Cheerios I don't think we ever brought the whole crazy mess up again," Mercedes shrugged, not quite able to stop herself from gazing around the parking lot, trying to spot a car she recognized. People had staked out this hotel in the past.

"You were a Cheerio?" Sam laughed.

Mercedes nods, as though embarrassed. "I sometimes forget that you missed a whole year of all the glee club's crazy."

"Me too." He reached over and set his hand on top of Mercedes's, where it was resting on the console. "This is all the crazy stuff you can catch me up on. On our date."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Mercedes cleared her throat at the look on Sam's face. "Okay, I have to be home in like ten minutes."

"Can I kiss you good night?" Sam asked. All she could do was nod.

It was just like the other two times, sweet and short, and he didn't pull back right away, he just held their faces close, before saying, "Goodnight, Mercedes" and getting out of the car.

Normally Mercedes would be blasting the radio on the drive home, right up until she got a couple blocks away from her house, so that she wouldn't annoy her neighbors, but tonight she just let it be a quiet hum in the background while she carefully ran over that entire night in New York, her first date with Sam, over again in her mind.

It was the rose that had made it into a date, she had decided. She and Sam had only left the lobby to escape their song-writing frustration. They were only going to go across the street and get a Danish and cup of coffee. And then everything had just been so alive. There were still people on the streets, spots of fog rising up out of the streets. They walked while they ate, peeking in the windows of the little stores everywhere, all still open past nine, which was just weird. They had talked about whether Sam missed his old school, how his siblings were doing. They had gone all the way over to Times Square, marveling at how it was so bright it was like daylight.

Then someone had yelled loudly into their cell phone, right behind them, and Mercedes had jumped and grabbed Sam's arm, and he'd chuckled, because he'd jumped too, and he had grabbed her hand. A few blocks further along, someone had been throwing old flowers out of their flower stand, and Sam had just sort of swiped one out of the discard pile as they walked by, and handed it to her.

And suddenly it was a date. His hand was warmer in hers. His smile was directed at her more than it had been. They had wound up at the Gershwin, and Mercedes had mentioned how badly she had wanted to try to get into Wicked while they were in New York, and Sam had told her to give him her phone and stand by the stage door, and he had taken her picture. Then he had paused, looked at her, stepped forward, slowed down, and kissed her.

It had been like fireworks in the distance, not so close that the noise shook your chest and popped your ears, but like a soft rumble across a distance, with the light bursting above the tree line.

He had smiled at her, handed her the phone, then taken her hand in his again. They had walked calmly back to the hotel, calmly agreeing along the way to not worry about this until after Nationals, and not to tell anyone else.

Her mom was waiting up for her when she stepped into the living room. Mercedes hugged her and told her the trip was amazing before yawning hugely and heading up for bed.

She couldn't quite help herself, as she flipped through the songs in her Ipod, finding the one that had been running in her mind all week, almost like a warning, and sliding the Ipod into her speakers.

Hands touch, eyes meet

Sudden silence, sudden heat

Hearts leap in a giddy whirl

He could be that boy

But I'm not that girl

It had been amazing trip. That night had been an amazing night. Tonight had been an amazing night.

Don't dream too far,

Don't lose sight of who you are

Don't remember that rush of joy

He could be that boy

I'm not that girl

But…

Blithe smile, lithe limbed

She is winsome, she wins him

Gold hair with a gentle curl

That's the girl he chose

And heaven knows,

I'm not that girl

And it wasn't just that Quinn was beautiful… it was that Mercedes saw how Sam went after Quinn when he had first transferred. And what she didn't see, she had heard about from Kurt, who had given up on being Sam's duet competition partner, but hadn't given up on Sam, not totally, until… Kurt had gotten distracted by everything else.

She knew how Sam had felt about his reputation. How he wanted to beat Finn out for king of the school, when everyone knew that Karofsky had proven that was his title.

Despite the magic

Don't wish, Don't start

Despite the warmth

Wishing only wounds the heart

It was just a little hard to make herself really believe that this was as good as it seemed.

I wasn't born for the rose and pearl

I'm not that girl