disclaimer: Glee does not belong to us. If it did, it would look like this.
dedication: to twisted fairy tales, but not being sick, because being sick sucks.
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It was a quiet day in the record shop.
Rachel stood behind the counter, hair tucked behind her ear, minding the till. The sun was only up an hour (Rachel was a morning person—not that that was a surprise), and the early-morning sunlight filtered in through the scratched, dusty windows like soft liquid gold. It fell in slats along the racks of CDs and records in a fine layer of happiness.
Rachel hummed along to Stevie Nicks playing in the background as she obsessively wiped the counter until it shined streak-free.
(Had she taken her meds this morning? Rachel didn't even need to think about it. Of course she had.)
The bell over the door jangled.
Rachel looked up and smiled.
He was cute. She didn't normally like redheads, but he was just blonde enough that she could deal with it. He was always in the shop. She thought he must swing by there before school or work or wherever he spent his days. She liked to think it was school. If he was working, then he was probably too old for her.
Then again, she was older than sixteen. According to the state of Ohio, she was old enough to consent and so his age really didn't matter.
Well, it did. If he was too old it would throw off the balance and-she paused. She had taken her meds, hadn't she?
(Of course she had. She never forgot, not even if she wanted to.)
"So you decided to come back again?" she called over. She cringed immediately after, hearing the echo of Santana's voice in her head. There might have been a little of Quinn in there too, actually. They were the nasty voices that told her to shut up and to not try. They were the ones that told her she was—no, bad Rachel. Don't go there. Because she was better than that—she was better than them all and they would not bring her down.
"Yeah, I keep hoping you guys will get some more Duran Duran," he answered.
She smiled. Maybe she wasn't so awkward? She started tugging on the rag, blunt-cut nails catching on the frayed edges, and said, "I think that there's a shipment coming in sometime this week. I can check, if you'd like?"
"That'd be nice," he stepped toward the counter, "In the meantime, I suppose I could look for something else."
She tilted her head a little, brown hair falling into the sides of her vision. Brown. Brown was so boring. Why couldn't it have been something other than brown? "What do you like? Maybe I can suggest something?"
"What do I like? Let's see: Duran Duran, Big Country, Men at Work, Simple Minds, Crowded House, and a lot of other things."
"I know we have some Big Country. If you look over in the corner, you should find them," she tried to ignore the way his hands on the counter left marks, because all she could think was don't clean, don't clean, don't clean, and, "Can I ask what songs you like? Crowded House, I mean. Which songs of theirs do you like?"
Mercedes's voice joined the scolding in her mind. She knew she was being awkward, but he was smiling and being nice, so clearly she wasn't being too strange.
"Do you like Crowded House?"
Rachel actually almost laughed, but stopped herself. No, he wouldn't like you, you're boring and crazy and obsessive and remember Finn? Remember what he said?
"My boss played one of their songs in a rare break from Fleetwood Mac. I really liked it."
"Start with Recurring Dream. It's a greatest hits album and it has pretty much all of their best music on it. What was the song you heard?"
"I think the boss said it was called Private Universe?" she blinked, unsure.
He nodded, "Yeah, that's on there. So is Into Temptation, which is kind of similar sound-wise."
Rachel tucked strands of hair (brown hair, why did it have to be brown? Why couldn't it be something pretty, like blonde or red or black or anything except dull, limp brown) and smiled at him. "I'll look into it. The Crowded House and the Duran Duran, that is."
"How long have you been working here?"
"It shows that I'm new, doesn't it?"
"Just a little."
She sighed, and tucked another errant strand away. Why wouldn't her hair stay down? He probably thought she was some sort of freak, and really, she couldn't blame him—she could still see his hand prints on the counter, and it was taking every last bit of her willpower not to scrub at them. "I've been here for about two months now. I was the only recruit willing to take the early shift. Do you work around here?"
"Mmhmm. I work at the nursery down the road."
"Nursery? Like, little children?"
"Like plants," he clarified, "I used to work at the GAP downtown until a friend got me fired."
"What?" Rachel blinked. Fired? He didn't look like the type to get fired. He looked... sweet. Cute. Unable to hurt someone. Exactly the type of guy she wanted to date. Then again, the last guy she'd dated like that... well. That was different story, and not one to dwell on. Rachel wasn't in the mood to start crying. She pushed Finn to the back of her mind, and tuned back in to what the boy was saying.
"—flash mob, pissed off manager, awkward moment," he shrugged, "It was a rather bizarre day. It was sweet, though I always figured Blaine had a thing for my brother, so it was kind of random."
Something clicked in her mind at the description, "Blaine Anderson?"
He grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, you know him?"
Rachel paused. How to describe Blaine? There was her awkward not-relationship with him. There was his very awkward not-relationship with Kurt. There was... She didn't want to describe her relationship with Blaine, because it made her obsess, and her therapist had said that she shouldn't do that anymore, Rachel, dear, it's going to make you crazy. Obsessing is bad.
(Rachel had never been very good at following directions.)
"He's a friend. Sort of," she pulled over the stool she usually sat in and climbed up into it, "I'm Rachel, by the way."
"Jeremiah," he gave, "How do you know Blaine?"
"Mutual friend. You?"
"Before he switched to Dalton we went to the same high school."
The cogs in her mind click-click-clicked away, "You said something about your brother?"
"Before high school I only really knew him as one of James's best friends."
"James and Jeremiah, huh?" she smiled.
"Jonathan, Jeremiah, and James. Our parents thought they were being cute given our last name. It was an accident that James ended up being the baby of the family, though he is aiming to become a professor, so I guess it all works out."
She thought for a moment before she realized what he was saying, "Please tell me your last name isn't Moriarty."
"You actually got the reference. Now I'm scared."
"I had a lot of free time as a kid," she admitted, and don't tell him about everything. Don't tell him about the everything and the nothing because no one should have to handle what goes on in your head, "So was Blaine the Sherlock to your brother's Professor?"
He shook his head, "Blaine was Watson. Believe it or not, there was actually a girl named Holmes involved in their various adventures."
"Are you serious?" Rachel asked, and this time, she couldn't restrain the silly little laugh that escaped. That—that was pretty special. It sounded like they'd been close.
"Yeah, I've actually been trying to get ahold of them for some time now. Do you talk to Blaine any?"
"Not really. But that mutual friend I mentioned, he does."
"Do you think you could pass on a message for me? I'd really like to see them now that they're speaking to each other again. James said something about Blaine finally coming to terms with stuff and is apparently now dating Holmes. I mean, I'm not surprised. Even as a little kid Blaine gave off vibes that said 'pansexual' more than-hey, are you okay?"
No, she was not okay. No, no, no, she was not okay, she was obsessing and could he move, she needed to think and I need to clean to think and you left hand prints on my perfect shining counter-top why'd you do that it was to be mean, wasn't it—
But Rachel shook her head, and said none of that.
"I'm fine. I promise to talk to Kurt about telling Blaine you'd like to see him."
He smiled at her, and Rachel nodded a little mechanically. She spoke, and the words came out, halting and shaking and wrong. "I—um, I need to go—clean. I'll be—right back."
He seemed concerned, but Rachel didn't have the time to compute that. She waved a little as she watched him turn to leave, and locked the shop's front door behind him. And then she rushed to the back room, fingers shaking, and barricaded herself in the bathroom with a week's worth of cleaning supplies.
As she wiped the mirror, she thought her way through the conversation.
Blaine is dating someone who is not Kurt who is going to get hurt ohmygod what do I do this is going to be ridiculously painful ohmygod why me who do I even tell?
Rachel took a deep breath of air in through her nose, and went back to wiping the mirror. Not Mercedes. She'd just go on a rant and try to kill people. Obviously not Kurt. Finn—no, not even going there. I don't know Sam well enough, and Santana is just—no. Just no. Not Quinn, she despises me, and definitely not Puck because he'd just laugh. Not Lauren, she scares me, and not Mike, I don't know—
And then the answer came, as she was scrubbing the floor tiles.
Tina.
How she'd missed the quiet girl was a mystery. Tina was likely the only girl (only person, really) that might have actually considered Rachel a friend.
She was hyperventilating, she was sure.
She listened to the dial tone twice before she managed to dial Tina's number.
"Hello?"
Rachel bit her lip. "Hi, Tina. It's, um, it's Rachel. Can we—talk?"
She was halfway through episode 24 of Ouran when she got the call. She had no idea why Rachel would be calling her at 9 AM on a Saturday, nor did she particularly care to know why. She almost didn't answer the call, the temptation to spend her day shipping Tamaki and Kyouya (and eventually John and Sherlock because BBC's new series was just gorgeous and so fucking brilliant and oh the day so needed a good dose of Doctor Who geekery). She had no plans beyond her couch, her day filled with geekgasms, Nutella, and not changing out of her pajamas. Those plans did not include talking to anyone who was not named Mike.
She really should call him.
In the meantime, though, there was Rachel to deal with. She didn't like it, but Rachel never called her and that she was likely meant that there was some kind of emergency. Tina might have been apathetic and looking forward to her day of geek, but her conscience was deafening.
She sighed and answered the phone, "Hello?"
"Hi, Tina. It's, um, it's Rachel. Can we-talk?"
"Okay?" She wasn't entirely sure of this. Rachel didn't talk to anyone who wasn't Kurt, Mercedes, Finn-okay, not so much on that last one. Not since last year and the Breakup From Hell.
"Look, I just—found something out, and I need to—rationalize. Are you doing anything today? If you are, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, and you can ignore me, but..."
She twitched, just a little, "You're rambling."
"Oh, um. Right. Okay. So. I just heard that—you remember Blaine, right? Kurt's—yeah, him. Well, I just talked to...someone who said that Blaine was dating someone who wasn't Kurt and I'm pretty sure I'm having a panic attack."
Yeah, she was definitely twitching. She did not need this shit. Couldn't Rachel have taken this to Mercedes or someone Kurt actually spoke to/acknowledged the existence of? Well, no, now that she thought about it, she could imagine what Rachel's line of thinking was. Kurt getting hurt would lead to Mercedes being homicidal. Everyone else either hated or avoided Rachel and so Tina was the neutral party.
Like always.
She sighed again, "Breathe, Rachel, breathe."
"Right. Breathe. Breathing. Breathing. Sort of breathing."
Tina pinched the bridge of her nose, a sense of tragedy setting in as she eyed the stack of DVDs on top of the television. She was the neutral one, the calm one. She hadn't asked for that designation and yet she had it, which meant Rachel's current freak-out was her responsibility.
Well, fuck. It looked like she was going to have to get a shower and leave the house after all.
"Okay, look, just cool your tits. Do you know where Addy's is?"
"Yes, I'm two blocks from there."
She nodded to herself, standing up and holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she gathered up her Nutella and turned off the television, "Good. Go there, get a giant cup of caffeine and some chocolate. I'll be there in about thirty minutes and then we can talk. Sound good?"
She could hear Rachel's nervous laughter, "Caffeine? No, I can't have caffeine, it'll—chocolate will be great. I'll be okay. Thanks Tine. You don't have to come."
Tina nearly facepalmed. She chose to ignore the nickname and focus on the caffeine issue. A part of her wasn't surprised by the little diva's inability to consume it. Rachel Barry had redefined the words "perky" and "hyperactive" in the collective vocabulary of New Directions. As she thought about it, the more she realized that Rachel plus caffeine was very like a Very Bad Idea.
"Rachel, shut up. If you can't have caffeine, then make it a shit-ton of chocolate. I will be there in fifteen minutes and we are going to talk. Understand?" She put her Nutella away and started walking towards the bathroom.
"Oh. Okay."
She shut the door, resisting the urge to snap at Rachel. The girl had chosen to call her and she was sounding defeated when she agreed to meet up with her to talk? She knew Rachel had some issues. Anyone who had ever been within fifty feet of Rachel knew that. Tina, as a general rule, only liked seriously fucked up people when they were fictional and existed only for her entertainment. Dealing with Issues in real life was generally very painful because then feelings got involved and made everything messy.
"Okay, then. I'll see you in a bit," she replied, "Bye."
"Yeah. Bye."
Someone was going to have to talk to that girl and explain the proper treatment of not-friends who were doing things that normally only friends would do. She showered quickly and dressed even faster, tying her hair back with a pencil while it was still dripping wet. She'd told Rachel she'd be at Addy's in fifteen minutes and dammit, she was going to be there in fifteen minutes. That was the new plan: talk to Rachel, go to Mike's, waste the day away in bliss.
Fifteen minutes later, as promised, she walked into Addy's. It wasn't hard to find Rachel in the cafe, and when she did see her, she made a beeline for the counter.
"Hi, the largest, strongest coffee you have and something very chocolatey to eat."
The barista gave her a strange look, but gave her what she ordered. It took a total of three minutes and so at seventeen minutes after she promised Rachel to meet her at the cafe, Tina took the seat across from Rachel.
"Okay, now start from the beginning," she ordered. Then she took a closer look. Rachel didn't look like Rachel, almost. She hadn't been joking about the panic attack, then. The poor girl was shaking and looked like she was on the verge of a second attack. Tina reached across the table and placed her hand on Rachel's wrist.
Rachel took a deep, shuddering breath, "So I was... You know I'm working at Blank Slate, right? Well, I was watching the shop, and this—guy came in. I—don't know who he is, but I've seen him a few times, and he's fairly attractive, and so I was talking to him about—well, a lot of things. Music and everything. Just life."
Tina nodded, "And?"
"And he—he somehow mentioned... Blaine. Like, Blaine-as-in-Kurt's-Blaine. Blaine, as in Blaine-who-is-apparently-dating-a-girl-Blaine."
She paused, thankful that her coffee was on its way to her mouth and not actually there, "I'm sorry, what?"
"That's what he—his name is Jeremiah—that's what he said. He said that—that Blaine was dating some girl."
...that was not what she had been expecting.
"Are you sure that's what he said? I thought Blaine was gay and very open and proud about that fact."
Rachel pulled away from her, motioning with her hands, "There was something about Blaine's pansexuality and Jeremiah's brother, James, and this girl, but he didn't say her name except that her last name was Holmes and that—that Blaine was Watson."
Tina sat in silence for a moment before counted off on her fingers, "One: you're lucky I know Santana or I'd be asking what 'pansexual' is. Two: what the fuck did you just say?"
"That's when the panic attack hit."
"Right," she nodded, "Okay, can we rewind this conversation because I'm pretty sure you just made a Sherlock reference that I didn't completely understand."
Rachel started flapping her arms in what, to Tina, looked like a bad imitation of Angry Birds. Her second thought was that Rachel was genuinely freaking out about this and need to calm down.
"Right, sorry, I forgot. Jeremiah said that his last name was Moriarty. His youngest brother is James. This girl is Holmes, and Blaine was—Blaine was Watson."
Tina fought the urge to smile at the oh-so-perfect alignment there (because, really? Moriarty/Sherlock/Watson was the only way to ship the new series, even if she was eagerly awaiting the arrival of Irene Adler in the hopefully upcoming episodes). She needed to focus on the reality of what Rachel was saying. Assuming the dynamics between the trio were the same as their fictional associations, then it was only natural that Watson and Sherlock would end up together. That Sherlock just happened to be female and Watson proudly gay...
Well, that was going to cause some problems.
"Okay, I think I understand. So what are you going to do about Kurt?"
The look of dread was almost comical, "I have no idea."
"Have you thought about calling him?"
Rachel didn't take that suggestion too well, she realized belatedly, "But I—no! How on earth could I ever even approach that subject? I—Tina, look at me. I can barely keep my head when I'm talking to you, and we've known each other... a while, right? Blaine's almost a stranger, and I just... I don't think it would turn out at all well."
"I meant calling Kurt," she took a big drink of her coffee, flinching slightly at the bitterness.
Rachel sank in her seat, "It would kill him."
"But he needs to know."
"How would you tell him, then."
Tina thought for a moment before blanching, "That's a very good question."
She didn't really know Kurt all that well. They rarely, if ever, interacted with one another. She knew from watching him swoon over Finn that he fell hard when it came to guys he liked. If Blaine were the one who made him feel the way she felt with Mike, then everything was doomed. It would give them a better shot at finally beating Dalton at Nationals if their new lead was heartbroken, but Kurt was still very much one of them and-
Fuck.
"Then what about Mercedes?" she suggested, quietly sipping her coffee.
"She'd kill me."
"No, she wouldn't," she reasoned, "Does she even like this Blaine?"
"Yes, she would," Rachel argued, "And I don't know—I don't think so, but I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"She... well, sometimes she sneers when Kurt mentions him. It's only happened a few times that I know of, but I'm pretty sure she grits her teeth whenever he's mentioned... But how would I tell her?"
Tina got what Rachel was trying to say. Mercedes was terrifying when pissed off and this was bound to do the trick.
She took a deep breath and put on her best Cheerio face, "'Hi, Mercedes, a friend of Blaine's just told me that Blaine is dating a girl and not Kurt. Happy killing!'"
Rachel looked like Tina had just told her that there was no more Nutella, "You tell her, then! I could—I could never say that, Tina! I nearly had another panic attack just trying to get the whole story out to you! And I—I spent half an hour cleaning before I called, because it took me that long to sort of get myself calm. I would just end up—it probably wouldn't be pretty."
"And if I do tell her?" she reasoned, "She's going to want to know how I heard about this."
"Then... then you can tell her to talk to me. But I'm—I'm bad at this kind of thing," Rachel mumbled.
"I can tell."
The other girl looked like she was about to cry, "Thanks."
Tina cringed, "Sorry?"
"I'm bad at friendships. I know that. I don't need it rubbed in my face," she really was starting to cry, Tina saw.
"Fuck," she swore, "Look, Rachel, I really am sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
Her mind was racing for a solution. She didn't particularly like Rachel, but she didn't like the idea of making the girl cry and feel like shit. She was well aware of the fact that Rachel had no friends.
"No, it's okay. I know you didn't. Sometimes I just—yeah, don't worry about it."
Tina was screwed.
"Look, I promise to talk to Mercedes. Why don't you go back to your job in the meantime? I'll call you sometime tonight so we can maybe make some plans to hang out?"
A part of her really did want Rachel to agree, though she knew it was highly improbable. Rachel knew they weren't friends just as well as Tina did.
"I'll go back to work," Rachel smiled weakly, "But, you know, it's okay. I'll be okay."
It was a pathetic end to a pathetic conversation and Tina groaned audibly when Rachel walked out the door of the cafe. She sighed, taking out her cellphone and finding the number in her contacts list.
It was answered on the third ring and she greeted, "Hi, Mercedes. Can we talk?"
"Hey babe. Sup?"
Tina grimaced. Mercedes sounded so happy and here Tina was, little ball of darkness ready to kickstart the hatefest.
"The shit's hit the fan and it's a pretty spectacular mess," she explained.
She could hear Mercedes's hesitation, "Oh? Who, what when where, how, and why?"
"Rachel got to talking with a friend of Blaine's at her job."
The pause was more violent in it's silence this time, she noted with a chill.
"Talk to me."
Tina shivered. Mercedes sounded dangerous. This was-this wasn't good. On any level. If Rachel was right (and she thought she was because she'd never heard Mercedes to from curious to assassin!bitch so quickly before) then Mercedes already really hated this guy and what Tina had to tell her would only add gas to the fire.
She could draw it out and explain it with all the details Rachel gave her...
"Tina. Talk."
Short and sweet it was.
"Apparently Blaine's got a girlfriend."
There was a long pause, "What?"
Tina sighed, "Old friend of Blaine's told Rachel that Blaine's pansexual and has a girlfriend. Apparently the girl's name is Holmes. She wants to tell Kurt but doesn't want to destroy him. She's afraid of you, so I'm the one who got to make this call. Rachel, that is. She's the one that wants to tell Kurt."
"Oi. That's a bother," Mercedes snapped, "Rachel should know better, she knows how much I dislike that moron. But this... doesn't make sense. Kurt talked to that moron yesterday, he said. But... hm. I dunno. I'll have to talk to him. Thanks, Tina, I owe you one."
Tina smiled weakly, "You're very welcome Mercedes. Happy hunting."
"Thanks, darling. You hunt some on your own, yeah?"
"I'll try. I'm a little out of the loop on this, though."
"Just keep Rachel from jumping off a cliff."
Tina nodded, "That I can do. Talk to you later."
"Aight. Love you, byeeeeee!"
Tina closed her phone, letting her head fall to the table for a moment. She swore under her breath for a few minutes, cursing boys and girls and friends and gossip before she sat up, drank her coffee and left. She was going to spend the rest of her day curled up in bed and she sincerely hoped her boyfriend would be there with her.
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Extra thoughts:
Sara loves spring flowers: there is still snow where I am. THIS IS SO UNCOOL. Also, next chapter, Mike gets a personality!
Emily loves summer flowers: it was summer-like weather when I was home and now I'm freezing in the north again. NOT COOL. Also, next chapter, Kurt appears!
