Little Author Notes: Ownership: Only copy right I have, is to my imagination. QAF, Glee, Robin Hood, Twilight, Books and other things, yeah, don't own them.

Music Inspiration: 1st: Save the last dance for me By: Ben E. King & The Drifters and then: Parce mihi domine by Christóbal de Morales.

This piece: Is going to be a collection of Tolerance and Love.

This chapter: Blends into mythology. We can thank our last reviewer for this. I'm aware only of the supposed country of origin, of that reviewer. And I love that country so much. Especially the chocolate factory.

Rating: M, mature subjects, language and stuff.

I don't have any association with anyone for music. I've purchased all that I listen to. I'm just letting you know about the music. If you want to listen, then do so. If not then don't. But if you're going to purchase anything, please don't go down the pirate road. Worst thing to do. I don't ship pirates.

These words today, are dedicated to the person who didn't like what I wrote in the last chapter. My little story here, is to help bridge tolerance and understanding, or love. Whatever the wording. And so, I have been pondering and digesting what that persons last review was, which you'll notice I did not publish. He/she and I know what was written. And I'll not fully understand whether it was intentionally aggressive or just 'lost in translation'. What is certain though, is it pushed my level of love, tolerance, acceptance to a new level. And I have that reviewer to thank. So thank you.

This chapter is also a mix of characters and situations. So please don't complain about who is doing what, with who.

~ Twinkle Toes to 42 ~

Have you been crying?

Yes, I have.

Why?

I could say reasons. But the truth is I'm a Gleek. There was a very emotional episode on last night, and it bought together all the sadness and happiness, of those who have left me.

~ X ~

He stands at the top of the staircase. Looking down at his family, who are made up of his Mum, Debbie, Mel, Lindsay and co.

It's prom night, he looks dapper in a white suit. And he's looking forward to dancing with Daphne. He'd invited and wanted Brian, but Brian wouldn't be in on it, just yet. Maybe another dance would come up.

As the night progressed, Justin and Daphne danced with love for their quality best friendship. They ignored the jostling and occasional negative comments. Justin was in love and Daphne was too. But not in the same way, but it was love and respect and adoration, the same.

No alcohol had been permitted, so no foolishness would come from loose thinkers. And there was no drunkenness, from alcohol or drugs.

But the instant he was aware of Brian being here, his smile was broad and his heart was full of loving pride. His body was euphoric, but his mind intact. Sense and sensibility.

The song played "Save the last dance for me, and in whose arms you're going to be. So darling, save the last dance for me."

~ X ~

Blaine and Kurt quick stepped, in time. Their dance routine blending with the music. They intertwined with the other dancers.

There were more men in the room and not enough ladies. Which didn't phase them one bit, they were together and a couple, tonight.

Like the blending of quality chocolate into a hot drink, or cake mix. Their dance moves, their legs blended with their bodies, strong arms and firm guiding hands.

Kurt took a dance step back, Blaine followed. To Kurt's right, Blaine's left. Left and right and around and back. Right, then left, around and back. Each dance partner a mirror image of the other. As he dipped his partner backward, the other wrapped a left leg around the others and leaned back with the movement. A dance of confident partnership, a dance of trusting.

~ X ~

After their dance Justin follows Brian back to his car, he isn't staying for more. They share a white satin scarf moment. Cuddle, smooch and whisper 'Later'.

What happens next is upsetting for all. For the cast and crew, and viewers alike.

~ X ~

Months go by, years even more.

The police make the discovery of two skulls in a shallow grave. Nothing around them, nothing inside them. Dry, solid and brittle two skulls. "I knew him well, Horatio." Is the memory instant to mind, of Shakespeare lovers.

But who do the skulls belong to? Which gender, what species or race? Whose thoughts were once inside? What colour hair and clothes would have been on the outside? Were either of them left handed 'Molly dukers'? Did either of them draw cartoons, paint walls, create advertising for products? Did either of them serve in a café, enjoy non-fat mochas or medium drip lattes?

Did one have a sports car with the number plate CHE 1200? Did one bare a baby to full term and give her away?

At first sight, the only recognizable understanding is species and age. Other than that, everything else is presumed, until full scientific investigations held.

Even after then, the personality, the thoughts, the memories, laughter, cries, smiles, heart felt adoration and love for others, the hurts, anguish and anger. All those human consuming emotions, will not be distinguishable as being male or female.

~ X ~

The brains left the skulls and rolled down the hill. Rolled under leaves and bumped into each other. When they finally came to rest, away from the bodies who wanted to possess them, they felt freedom at last.

Facing each other, pulses of blood vessels and vibrations of nerve endings. Neurons and finer details.

No snails, no slugs, no birds or bugs. No decaying matter, no sunlight, cloud covered sky. No rain, wind or snow.

Under the trees of Sherwood Forrest, foxes and other critters scamper. Horses rumble through, blood hounds run ahead.

I'm not Debbie, I'm JoBelle and add a 516. Review nice, if you dare?