One hour later, promptly at 7pm, Kurt Hummel sat in his truck looking up at the rather imposing home of Santana Lopez with a mixed feeling of excitement and nervousness. Somewhere during the course of his preparations for tonight, he had started having fun with the whole role-playing aspect of it. It had been sort of like rehearsing for a play, but now came the hard part.

"Show time," he murmured.

Straightening his borrowed tie in the reflection of his rearview mirror, Kurt smiled. For someone who typically favored flannel shirts and denim, his father had surprisingly good taste when it came to formal wear. Kurt had grown a little taller and a little leaner over the year since that family wedding, making the fit of the suit even more flattering, and he had happily agreed with Dad's suggestion to pair it with his black dress shirt and the sapphire vest. Accented by a thin, subtly patterned blue and gold silk tie that Burt admitted to not having worn since he was courting Kurt's late mother, and polished black shoes, the outfit looked both handsome and classy. With his hair brushed back so that it drooped down in a high, attractively tumbled wave over his right eyebrow, Kurt thought that he actually looked his age for once. Maybe even as old as seventeen! It was thrilling.

Picking up a small box and a bouquet of flowers from his passenger seat, Kurt got out of the truck, smoothed his lapels and held his head high as he walked to the front door and rang the bell.

The door opened almost immediately and a beaming woman who looked exactly like a future snapshot of Santana greeted him with, "You must be Kurt. Please, come in."

Flashing his best smile, he said, "Thank you, Mrs. Lopez." Noting that his date was nowhere in sight as he was led to a family room and gestured to sit upon a sofa, he added, "I hope I'm not too early."

"You're fine. Santana will be down in a minute," a man's voice said brusquely from behind him, bringing Kurt springing back up to his feet. The man, burly with a graying moustache and the same sharp dark eyes as his daughter, waved him back down. "So, Kurt, how long have you known our daughter?"

"Um, a few months," he replied, shifting a little nervously when Mr. and Mrs. Lopez sat down, flanking him rather uncomfortably close on the small sofa. "I met her when she joined the glee club at our school."

Mrs. Lopez smiled. "I was so happy when she did that. She has a beautiful voice, doesn't she? But she's always been so shy."

Kurt struggled to keep his sharp tongue sheathed. Shy was the last word he would ever have chosen to describe Santana. "W-well, I guess maybe cheerleading has helped some."

Mr. Lopez nodded. "It's good for her. Bringing her out of her shell. We were pleased when she told us you'd asked her out tonight. Heading to the mall with a group of friends is all well and good, but young people don't seem to have real dates anymore."

"A pretty young girl should go out sometimes, with a nice boy who knows how to treat her right," the mother said, patting his arm.

The weirdness of this situation was getting stronger by the moment. This seemingly nice, average, middle class couple did not know the first thing about their daughter. Or him. It was obvious that they did not realize the nature of this date, or that he was gay, and he'd bet his entire collection of Mark Jacobs jackets that they actually believed Santana was still a virgin.

"You have nothing to worry about, ma'am. I have nothing but the highest respect for your daughter," he said truthfully, not sure he could trust himself to say anything else without bursting into giggles.

Fortunately, Santana chose that moment to enter the room, thereby saving him. Kurt stood at once, his smile genuine as he got a good look at her. Other than a few costumes for New Directions, he had never seen Santana wear anything other than her cheerleading uniform and he was pleasantly surprised by her red satin dress with spaghetti straps and a flared skirt, her long hair loose around her shoulders.

Handing her the bouquet, he said, "You look beautiful."

Apparently pleased by the sincerity in his tone, she accepted the flowers. "Thank you. You look very nice too." Her eyes twinkled. "More GQ than Cosmo."

He grinned. "A deal's a deal." Ignoring the puzzled looks that Santana's parents were exchanging, he pulled out the box in his pocket. "This is for you, too. I wanted to give you something to remember this by."

Genuine surprise flashed in her eyes. Accepting the slim white box, she opened it and laughed. "Thanks, Kurt."

"What is it, darling?" her mother asked eagerly.

Santana pulled out a delicate gold bracelet with several charms hanging from the links. There were two musical notes, a tiny gold pompom and a pair of miniature boxing gloves.

"It's perfect," she said, handing the bracelet back to Kurt and holding out her wrist.

He fastened the chain deftly, then offered Santana his arm. "Shall we?"

She nodded but they were stopped by Mr. Lopez's exclamation of, "Wait! I want to take a picture!"

"Dad!" Santana groaned. "That's lame."

Undeterred by the protest, the proud parents bustled the teenagers up against the nearest wall and grabbed the waiting camera, apparently already having planned this moment.

"My baby's first real date," Mrs. Lopez said with a rapturous sigh.

Santana groaned and elbowed Kurt in the ribs when he started shaking with suppressed laughter. "One wisecrack and you're a dead man," she hissed through her smiling teeth.

Kurt did not reply, but as the flash went off he suspected that he had never taken a more cheerful looking photo in his entire life.