A/N: Here is your next chapter. A little late, but considering I'm writing as I go now, not too too bad. Plus, my internet was down for the entire weekend, so I didn't have access to the movie this was based on.


Kurt knocked for a third time on the wide doors to Blaine's apartment, this time thrilled. The first time he'd been nervous, the second time happy with hints of being apprehensive, this time he was floating on air. Well, it felt like that. He wasn't actually floating on air, he'd checked.

The door didn't open. Annoyed, he knocked again. Did Blaine even have a peephole? Yes, apparently, and he wasn't happy to see Kurt again.

"Blaine, open up." Nothing. Rolling his eyes, Kurt tried again. "Blaine! I have good news! Please open the door!" Still nothing. Annoyed with his still-husband, Kurt absolutely battered his fist against the door, ignoring the sharp shocks of pain from his knuckles. "I'm not leaving until you open the door!" Kurt yelled, not caring who heard him.

"Go away," Blaine sounded as miserable as he had when Sebastian had sent him those pictures. Kurt just continued to slam on the door, ignoring as one of his knuckles, chafed by winter, started to bleed. He was suspicious the others would soon follow suit. "Kurt, I don't want to talk to you."

"Well, I want to talk to you, and I have something important to say, so open the door!" Kurt yelled, continuing to bang on the door as another knuckle split and bled. Kurt noticed the blood streaks on Blaine's oak door with satisfaction. Unfortunately, this insistent knocking lead to Kurt almost punching Blaine in the face when he flung the door open.

"What?" Blaine snarled, obviously on a short temper and upset about seeing the man who'd broken his heart in multiple ways.

"I love you." Kurt had an eloquent speech that he'd planned on the taxi ride over, with build up and an explanation that he and Sam had decided to part ways. The speech was so much more articulate and careful than the first words that popped into his head, which, of course, were the ones that tumbled out of his mouth.

"I know that. You told me that the last time you were here. It doesn't make a damn bit of difference." Blaine was obviously preparing to slam the door in Kurt's face.

"It makes a difference now," Kurt said quickly, and Blaine paused. "Can I come in?" Blaine sighed, but left the door open as he walked into the kitchen.

"What are you talking about?" Blaine asked, something akin to rage in his voice. Kurt realized that he thought the fashion critic was taking revenge on him now that he had the annulment papers, or something equally as dumb.

"I called off my wedding... or it got called off on me. Let's call it what it is: I got dumped." Blaine looked cataclysmically shocked. It was almost funny. "I realized I was more in love with you than I was with Sam, even though it didn't make a lot of sense. He already knew, because he knows me, and he wished us happiness." Blaine's face closed off in a second.

"Do you think this is funny? Torture the tycoon that made your life miserable by dangling the one thing he wants but can't have over his head," Blaine seethed angrily, obviously not thinking clearly. Kurt sighed.

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Well, I'm not. Go ahead, call him. Call my dad, who helped me make the decision to choose you. Call Rachel, who'll castrate you for ruining my wedding plans. I'm not kidding Blaine. I. Chose. You." Kurt didn't have a moment to react before Blaine pushed him up against the counter and was kissing him like his life depended on it. Kurt moaned, caught off guard, as colors burst beneath his eyelids and a fire was set under his skin, Blaine's hands far, far too warm on his waist.

Blaine pulled away far too soon for Kurt's liking. "You didn't push me away." Kurt just smiled.

"I think my husband is allowed to kiss me." Shoot, where had he dropped those papers? "Crap, this would be a movie-perfect moment if I hadn't left those damn papers in the hall." For some reason, this simple memory fail was hilarious to both of them, and the couple doubled over with laughter.

"I think this is pretty movie-perfect already," Blaine was with a smile. "I can't believe you didn't file those."

"Neither can I," Kurt admitted. "I meant to for so long, but somehow that felt like letting go of you, and I realized that wasn't something I wanted to do. I never want to let go of you," Kurt promised, looking into Blaine's hazel eyes, which were bursting with happiness. Kurt was sure his eyes looked the same.

"Spend the night with me," Blaine blurted out unexpectedly, and Kurt raised both of his eyebrows.

"Well, someone's certainly looking to get the rebound sex," Kurt teased, not quite sure how Blaine would react, but he knew it would be great. Hell, he didn't care if Blaine dragged him into the bedroom right then to have his wicked way with the him.

"I didn't mean it like that. Just.. stay. Please?" There was an air of vulnerability in Blaine's voice, familiar but rare, as if Blaine was expecting to be rejected. Kurt nodded, having planned to do so anyway.

"Can my clothes not end up on a balcony this time?" Kurt asked, trying to lighten the mood, and the couple cracked up again.


Kurt hadn't brought any of his moisturizing products, or even pajamas, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. He'd taken a quick shower, not having done so in the past three days he was so stressed, and there was a pile of clothes resting on the bathroom counter when he was done. The fashion critic had the sneaking suspicion that his husband had also taken a peek at him in the shower. He didn't mind terribly.

When Kurt came out of the bathroom, dressed in clothes that he was sure were Sebastian's, Blaine was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, staring at the door expectantly in a Dalton t-shirt and boxers. The way Blaine was looking at him was making him feel remarkably shy, more exposed than he'd ever felt even though he was clothed.

"Hi," Kurt said quietly, not sure what else he was supposed to say. For Pete's sake, he wasn't some timid virgin, he shouldn't be acting like this. Why did everything seem so new with Blaine?

"Hi," Blaine replied, just as quietly, and Kurt realized the tycoon had no idea what he was doing either. It gave him confidence, enough confidence to climb on the opposite side of the bed and take the hand Blaine offered him. They must have looked like five-year-old's, lying on a bed holding hands, but Kurt couldn't bring himself to care.

Blaine was the one who made the first move eventually. Well, it wouldn't really be classified as a 'move'. The tycoon pulled his husband close, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and nuzzling into his chest, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and designer perfume. Holding Blaine felt so familiar, even though he'd only ever held Blaine on that one night.

"Did you know I had a dream about doing exactly this last night?" Kurt didn't reply, because there was obviously no way he would have known what Blaine dreamed of the previous night. "This, and nothing else. For several horrible moments I thought you had completely ruined my libido." Blaine's words should have been an insult, but they were so Blaine that they were funny.

"Well, I certainly do hope you rediscovered it. Perhaps when you spied on me in the shower..." Kurt said, letting his voice sound perfectly blank.

"Guilty as charged," Blaine commented, no remorse in his tone. "I just couldn't help myself." Kurt giggled, not at all concerned by his husband's minor voyeurism.

"I don't mind," he whispered, pressing his lips to his husband's, thrilled that he could kiss Blaine without guilt (well, he shouldn't be guilty. He still was though. Sam was far too nice for his own good). Blaine moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer and rolling them so the tycoon was on top. "Blaine... we're getting... carried away," Kurt gasped out against his husband's lips between kisses.

"You're right," Blaine replied, rolling off of Kurt. The fashion critic frowned at the lack of contact, even though he was technically the one who'd asked him to stop. He had discovered he preferred the state of kissing-Blaine to any state of not-kissing-Blaine.

"I didn't say you had to stop," Kurt murmured, but the moment was rather broken. Now that the two were separated, awkwardness hung in the air. "It's cold in here," Kurt said under his breath, and Blaine immediately hopped into action, grabbing the same blanket they used on their excursion to the roof and draping it over Kurt. The act held a kind of tenderness that Kurt knew Blaine had in him, yet surprised him every time. "Thank you."

Blaine offered no response, hopping back into the bed beside Kurt and making him bounce a little. The tycoon draped the checked blanket over himself as well, bringing them closer again. Somehow, whenever they were touching, Kurt forgot all his nerves and uncertainties.

Blaine reached for Kurt's hand again, and as they twined Blaine's thumb ran over Kurt's engagement ring from Sam, which he hadn't yet thought to take off. "You know..." Blaine began in a drawled tone, and Kurt was scared for one horrible second that Blaine would accuse him of trying to trick him again, or be angry, "we should probably get new rings, considering we're both wearing the one's our ex-fiancé's gave us." Kurt was surprised to hear Blaine was still wearing Sebastian's ring, but he realized it truly hadn't been that long since his life had been irrevocably changed by some idiot at the marriage bureau.

"We should,' Kurt whispered, excited about the prospect. Call him shallow, but there was nothing bad he could see about being in love with someone who happened to be incredibly rich. Speaking of which... "I'm quitting Vanity Fair."

"Are you?" Blaine sounded uninterested, but Kurt knew he wanted to hear the story.

"I hate it there. My creativity is stifled beyond belief. I'm restarting on my blog." Kurt waited patiently for far too long to hear Blaine's response.

"Is there a reason you're telling me this? Not, of course, that I'm not interested in what you've decided, because I am, but that seemed kind of.. random." Probably to the outside observer Kurt's sudden statement would seem random. However, Kurt didn't exactly want to tell Blaine that the connection had been his money.

"No, not really. I just wanted to get it out there." Clearing the air would have been a better lie. After all, it had been Kurt's blog that started all of this. There was big chance that Blaine never wanted to hear of it or see it again.

"All right," Blaine replied, but something still seemed a little off.

"Blaine...?" Kurt started to ask, but Blaine began talking before he could finish his question.

"You want me to fund the very blog that ended my engagement, and you don't even have the guts to say it." Blaine sounded unreasonably angry, and Kurt was taken aback. Where did that come from?

"I don't want you to fund it. My blog funds itself. I really did just want you to know," Kurt murmured, wondering where all the anger had come from.

Blaine sighed. "I'm sorry. I know your blog is perfectly self-sufficient. I guess it's just kind of a touchy subject. Having money's always been a big attraction to guys, and for one horrible moment I thought you were just another gold digger. I should have known better, of course, but it's happened in the past." Kurt placed a gentle hand on Blaine's shoulder, but didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry I got angry. I had anger issues... a long time ago, and whenever you're around they always seem to be worse. Example: almost getting myself killed à la Sam while we were chatting in the bathroom." Kurt nodded in understanding, still having no words to console the other man.

The two sat like that before it occurred to Kurt that the annulment papers were still in the hallway. This would be fine, of course, if there was only the possibility they would be trampled. However, there was always the possibility someone would find them, notice they were signed, and turn them in. "I'll be right back," Kurt said quickly, rushing out of the bathroom and wondering why a sigh followed in his wake.

Kurt quickly grabbed the stack of papers where it had slumped against the wall. Happy that they were there, he quickly carried them back into the bedroom, where Blaine had curled up in a little ball under the blanket. "I though you'd left. For good," Blaine said in explanation.

"Of course not," Kurt said, a little offended that Blaine would think some old anger issues would make him run for the hills. "I just had to get these, because I had the horrible thought that someone would find them and turn them in."

Blaine just shrugged. "We could always get remarried," he pointed out, his head obviously far more logical than Kurt's.

"True, but I think we should do something with them. Burn them, or the like." A grin that could only be described as evil crossed Blaine's face (okay, that's a lie. It could also be described as sexy, but that wasn't exactly specific when it came to anything about Blaine).

"I have an idea."


This time, instead of politely following, Kurt was being dragged by the hand after Blaine up the stairs. Of course, only his idiotic husband would grab the wrong hand and therefore be pulling his shoulder out of it's socket at the same time. Kurt forgot that, though, when they reached the entrance to the roof, remembering the last time he'd been up here.

"Come on. I know the perfect way to get rid of the papers," Blaine said with far too much excitement, dragging Kurt over to the edge before wrapping the same blanket around both of their shoulders. Blaine picked one of the papers off the top and threw it off the edge, watching it blow away on the breeze.

"Blaine! That's littering!" His husband just chuckled.

"Kurt!" he mocked the fashion critic. "This is New York City!" Touché. Kurt grabbed a handful of the papers and threw them off the building, watching as they intermingled with the snow falling that was getting caught in their hair.

"Okay, this is way too fun," Kurt said with a giggle as Blaine tossed a few more papers over the edge. "I definitely don't think anyone would take the time to find all of these scattered papers and file them." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Kurt, this is New York City. The likelihood that anyone would have filed them if they were in a stack two feet from the desk is slim to none." Kurt only laughed because it was so true. Not that he couldn't be NYC rude with the rest of them, but when he'd first gotten to the city it had shocked him how blunt and brusque the people were. "You can tell you grew up in Lima."

"Oh, hush. That's not something that I'm proud of." Kurt threw another few papers off the edge as they talked, and Blaine was doing the same, their fingers occasionally brushing in the most innocent but electrified of ways.

Kurt looked over at his husband to see Blaine giving him a look under his lashes. He knew what the tycoon was thinking, but he was still surprised when Blaine just tossed the stack over the edge, grabbing Kurt and kissing the hell out of him right there. Blaine's kisses sent warmth all throughout Kurt's body despite the cold air, and when the fashion critic pulled away, Blaine's brilliant eyes were there, the flecks of green enchanting Kurt. He giggled at the snowflakes stuck in his husband's eyelashes.

"Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes," Blaine sang what he was thinking, pressing a quick kiss to Kurt's lips before leaning back over the edge of the roof to watch the annulment papers fall. They were still floating a few feet below the roof, a few being snatched away by the wind. They fell slowly, drifting from side to side and being lit from underneath by the city. The sheets almost looked like comically too large snowflakes, but it was amazing to watch them fall anyway.

"We should have cut them into snowflakes like you do in fifth grade art class," Kurt commented, watching the annulment papers fall with his amazing husband, watching the very thing that brought them together float away to be crumpled under New Yorker's feet and run over by taxi cabs. Blaine just chuckled at his husband's reply.

"Then they would have looked even sillier," Blaine answered, and Kurt had to agree. He felt like he was about sixteen up here, young and carefree, and he'd never felt so alive... not even when he was sixteen.

"I don't think I've ever seen New York look so beautiful," Kurt whispered quietly. When he had first come to the city senior year, he was amazed by the opportunities, the glitz, and the acceptance. Everything else he took in stride, and he thought that meant he loved New York. Now he understood what it really meant. He is a New Yorker. Every pore, every hair on his body is a New Yorker. He loves the noise. He loves the dirt. He loves the smell. He loves crazy people. He loves every single thing about New York. It made him.

"You know what they say," Blaine muttered in his ear, and Kurt didn't even have to answer before the tycoon knew that he didn't know, and that was just... crazy. "It depends on who you're with."

Kurt smiled brightly at his husband and leaned up to kiss him, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck as Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, ignoring the height difference and the way the blanket fell from their shoulders, leaving Blaine in jeans and a sweatshirt and Kurt wearing too-big clothes of Blaine's ex-fiancé, both of them exposed to the cold. They spent a few minutes just staring into each others' eyes and sharing breaths before Kurt spoke.

"As romantic as this is, we're both going to get hypothermia." That broke the moment but Blaine just laughed, gathering up the blanket and ushering him back off the roof.


"Kurt?" Blaine asked from where he was half-cocooned in blankets. Kurt had just gotten back from brushing his teeth. "You're staying here, right?"

"But of course," Kurt said, trying to keep the mood light. He wouldn't leave Blaine right now. He didn't want to leave Blaine ever. As crazy as it seemed, what he'd had with Sam wasn't love. It was affection to the point of insanity, but it wasn't like this. There were different ways of loving people, he supposed.

"No, I don't just mean tonight. I mean... permanently." Kurt was struck for a moment by Blaine's word choice, barely second to 'forever'. For a second it seemed absolutely ridiculous that they were making these huge commitments to each other when Blaine had never met his father and he didn't even know if Blaine had siblings.

"Yeah. Yes. I think Sam's selling our old apartment anyway, but I'd love to.. move in here." Kurt was hesitant to mention Sam, but Blaine didn't react and didn't seem bothered. Kurt guessed it was easier for him now that he had Kurt, in the same way Sam hadn't minded him mentioning Blaine when they were still engaged... well, at the beginning anyway.

"We don't have to move so fast, you know," Blaine said quietly, as if reading his mind. "We can take this slow, move in together on our own time. We could even go out and find those papers if you really wanted to." His husband didn't sound like he wanted to do any of those things, but he would do them for Kurt.

"No, I don't. I guess I'm just worried. What happens if something goes wrong, or.. I don't know, we discover initial chemistry isn't enough? That's both of our lives then Blaine." Blaine just chuckled, which made Kurt purse his lips in annoyance. He was in no hurry to climb into bed with his husband now, literally or otherwise.

"You worry too much, love. We actually know quite a bit about each other, and we can hammer out all the details later if you want to. I still vote we stay married. I know things will work out for us, Kurt." It was amazing to Kurt the absolute faith Blaine had in this, as crazy as it seemed. Relationships seemingly weren't Blaine's strong point (see: the bitch he was going to marry and the gold diggers he'd mentioned before), but if the tycoon believed that this would happen, Kurt believed in him.

"You're right, of course," Kurt concurred, climbing into the warm tycoon Blaine had made for himself and sighing in contentment as Blaine snuggled into him. "All this arguing about moving is silly. I haven't even moved in! I shouldn't be worried about moving out." Neither of them protested ignoring the very real issue.

"You shouldn't worry about our marriage either," Blaine said quietly. "People have made it on a lot less than what we have. See Cinderella and Prince Charming, Snow White and Prince No-name," Kurt giggled, "and Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip."

"Do you have a thing for the Grimm Brothers? They were kind of violent, you know." When Blaine didn't reply, Kurt asked, "Does that make you my Prince Charming?"

"Of course. Oh, and I love you too, by the way. I never got the chance to say it back, because I was too busy being skeptical at first, and then taking advantage of the fact you weren't pushing me away by kissing the hell out of you." Kurt couldn't help but smile at hearing his husband say the words for the first time, and Blaine grinned against Kurt's chest.

"I love you too... too," Kurt said awkwardly before he realized Blaine's statement needed no reply. Thankfully, Blaine just chuckled. "This is crazy, you know?" Blaine pulled away from his spot snuggled into Kurt to give his husband a questioning glance. "Everything that's happened to us," Kurt explained. "What's the chance that we were married by computer mistake and no one has realized it by now?" Kurt wasn't angry about the error, couldn't be with the way it had turned out, but he was curious.

"I guess we're just destined to beat the odds," Blaine replied, both answering Kurt's mostly rhetorical question and reassuring him about their earlier topic.

A yawn punctuated the end of Blaine's sentence, and Kurt hadn't even realized how late it was. He was flooded with energy and happiness and love to the point that he wasn't the least bit tired. Blaine, though (hopefully) happy and relieved at the news that Kurt was insanely in love with him, had figured this out much earlier that Kurt himself had, and didn't have the same type of adrenaline.

"You should sleep," Kurt murmured, but Blaine shook his head, his curls tickling against the fashion critic's chin.

"You'll get bored,' Blaine tried to argue. Kurt could head the unsaid 'and leave me at the end'. Another huge yawn interrupted Blaine's speech, and the tycoon sighed, knowing there was no way Kurt would let him win this.

"Go to bed," Kurt whispered, pulling Blaine close again (as he'd pulled away to argue against sleeping. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

"Good," Blaine replied quietly, not having the energy to keep the conversation going. He was asleep within moments.

Kurt smiled as his husband went lax in his arms, clearly a heavy sleeper, able to fall asleep anywhere and quickly at that, an ability that the fashion critic had always envied. Blaine looked more relaxed than Kurt had ever seen him, almost childlike in unconsciousness, and unbearably adorable.

How had he gotten so lucky? That's what Kurt was really curious about. An amazing man, one he never would have come in contact with if the marriage bureau hadn't erred, just fell into his lap. Well, it wasn't exactly that simple, but they'd managed, hadn't they? And he couldn't be happier. Kurt giggled a bit at the memory of his drunken Wicked rendition before falling into a contented sleep, husband in his arms.


Blaine woke once again to the smell of a wonderful breakfast cooked by Kurt. Reminding himself to tell Kurt that he didn't have to wake up at five every morning to make him breakfast (as much as he appreciated), rolling out of bed and realizing that the reason it seemed unusually warm in his apartment was because he'd slept in more clothes than usual.

Smiling at the memories of the previous night, Blaine headed for the kitchen. "Good morning there, sunshine!" Kurt was still dressed in Sebastian's too-big clothes, his hair rumpled, but he still looked like the sexiest thing Blaine had ever seen.

"Good morning." Kurt turned from the grill (yum, bacon) with a big smile, walking very quickly across the cold tile floor to give Blaine a quick kiss. The whole routine (well, not that it was a routine yet, but Blaine certainly hoped it would be soon) felt so domestic.

"As wonderful as this is, you don't have to make breakfast every morning you spend here. Or get up at five in the freakin' morning either," Blaine said, secretly appreciating it.

"I've never had to get up at five in the morning. I choose to. It's relaxing, having some time to look out over the beautiful city with the newspaper and some coffee." The picture Kurt painted in Blaine's head did sound rather wonderful, especially with his husband by his side, and Blaine decided there and then to share some of those mornings with Kurt.

"So, what's on the docket for today, besides quitting your job." Blaine didn't have any objections to Kurt leaving Vanity Fair. The whole fashion industry bothered him, to be honest. Too many 100-pound, 5'10" models with fake breasts for his taste. Kurt's cutting and famous blog was more... wholesome.

"I have to get at least some of my stuff from Sam's. Clothes and the like. We'll figure out what we're doing with everything else later." Kurt didn't sound saddened by this at all, and Blaine smiled at his word choice.

"You look like the cat that got the proverbial cream," Kurt commented, raising an eyebrow at Blaine's almost comically large smile.

"You called your old apartment 'Sam's'. That means this is your home now." That sounded absolutely wonderful to Blaine, and Kurt smiled right back, realizing that his mind has unconsciously shifted housing situations without his consent.

"I guess so." Kurt turned as the timer on the grill rang, and very soon Blaine had his pile of bacon in front of him, digging into it with gusto. "I don't suppose that means I can go through that giant pile of mail of yours? It's been bothering me all morning." Kurt frowned at the mile-high stack of letters Blaine had neglected over the past few weeks.

"Knock yourself out. I'm sure it will be very boring for you." All that was in that pile was bills, advertisements, and desperate pleas from washed-up companies that needed loans Blaine couldn't afford.

Kurt started sorting through letters and ripping some open as Blaine ate. The focus Kurt gave each individual letter was rather entertaining, and Blaine found himself watching as Kurt's eyes shifted from blue to green in the early morning lighting.

"You're staring at me," Kurt said teasingly. He didn't sound very bothered, so Blaine wasn't inclined to stop doing exactly that.

"You're beautiful, what do you expect?" Kurt blushed at that, and Blaine had to wonder exactly how many times Sam had told him those exact words. It couldn't be very many with the way Kurt flushed.

It seemed as if the air suddenly got ten degrees colder with the next letter Kurt picked up. The remnants of his blush seeped out of his face and a certain hardness entered his now blue-gray eyes. "Blaine, what is this?" Kurt sounded unreasonably angry, a dragon tensed to strike.

"What is what?" What could possibly be in his never-ending pile of mail that evoked such a reaction from his husband? Kurt got pissy, he got frustrated, he got insulted, but he rarely every got angry. He looked very, very angry.

"This letter from the marriage bureau informing you of their computer error and sending you error-fix papers!" Kurt asked, rage coloring his voice. There was a slight quiver to his.. well, entire body, and Blaine knew he was in deep trouble.

"Kurt, I've never seen that letter before in my life!" Blaine defended himself, hoping that hadn't been one of the letters he ripped and tore open in an angry rage when he'd first gotten the letter from Sebastian.

"It's open!" Kurt yelled. "This is dated the day before you met me! You knew! You knew that the marriage bureau had messed up and instead of trying to fix it you decided to torture me! This wasn't a mistake! This wasn't unavoidable! You did this on purpose to make my life a living hell! This was premeditated! You probably paid them off! How dare you pretend that this happened to both of us! I even asked you about it last night and you lied to me!" Kurt was on a rage, flushed red with anger and shaking.

"Kurt, no, listen, I didn't really open that, well, I didn't look at it!" Blaine hadn't finished his half-formed defense before the door slammed behind Kurt. "Why do I keep junk mail?" Blaine asked himself angrily as he put down his fork.


A/N: Did you seriously think I was done torturing them? Psh. You're all too trusting. A little more to write at any rate. This inevitably brings up this question: do you want this story to get a little more... M-rated. I'm not a crazy good smut writer, but I'm not horrible either (or people lie to me to make me feel better. This is also possible). It's all up to you guys, so let me know. So, one more story chapter (I think), an epilogue to take care of loose ends, and possibly some smut. That's all that remains of this story.

Songs used briefly:
'
My Favorite Things' from The Sound of Music (this was too cute on the show. Best friends and holiday roommates. I had to).
'Thank Goodness' from Wicked (yes, again).

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