Tim checked to make sure all his equipment was in the guitar case. Cords, pickup, guitar, of course. Yep, all ready to go. Strange job for a guy with a drawer full of AA chips, playing in a bar, but it's good money and babies aren't cheap. Gibson, the baby in his case, was almost two years old now.

He looked at his watch, 11:30. He called Alice to let her know he'd definitely be back in Lima by noon tomorrow. Right now it's too late but luckily there's an apartment over the bar and he crashes there when he's here for his twice a month gig.

He looked over at the man sitting at the bar. Tim has seen him before, a guy trying to drink away a memory. At least that's how the song Tim can't seem to finish writing starts out. He's usually gone by now, he doesn't leave with just anybody but he always leaves with somebody. Sully, the owner, brought Tim a bottle of water. "Thanks for coming down. Good night, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty good. Now we can afford to feed Gibson."

"Ha! Alice makes good money. You said so yourself."

"Okay, you caught me. Now I can afford to buy paint and canvasses."

"That's more like it." Sully said, turning to leave.

"Sully, what's his story?" Tim asked pointing to the guy at the bar.

"Blaine? Same old same old. Broken heart of the gay variety."

"His name is Blaine?"

"Yeah. In here 3-4 nights a week. Disappears for weeks at a time and then shows up again. Said he travels a lot. He's a writer, very amusing early in the night. Goes downhill fast."

"Hey Blaine!" he said sitting down on the next bar stool. "It's Tim, from McKinley."

"Hello Tim from McKinley." Blaine slurred.

Tim helped him to his feet. "You're coming with me tonight."

"'Pose I don't want to?"

"Trust me, you do."

Blaine giggled and complied.


Blaine work up in a strange place, a not unfamiliar position to find himself in. He hoped this guy had beer in the house, usually they do. He looked around the small dingy room. He heard a shower running. Should he go into the bathroom and see who he just slept with or wait for the guy to come out? He decided to check the refrigerator for beer instead. Kicking back the covers he was surprised to find himself fully dressed. Now that was different. He tripped on a guitar case, this really was a tiny apartment, and looked inside the small refrigerator. Bare. Damn.

The bathroom door opened and in walked the guy he'd evidently slept with last night. He's an Asian guy, long hair held back, who looks about Blaine's age, which is a good thing since he was starting to wonder if this was a college dorm room, it's that cramped.

"Tim, Tim DeCastro in case you don't remember."

"From high school?" Blaine tried to focus but he had a headache that he knew exactly how to fix.

"Yes."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Working. I've got a wife and baby now."

"And picking up guys at bars for sex?"

"We didn't have sex. I saw an old friend self-destructing and tried to do something about it, at least for one night. You live in Columbus now?"

"As much as I live anywhere."

"I'm headed back to Lima. You want a ride?"

"Hey, weren't you engaged to Mercedes? Mercedes Jones?"

"We never made it to engaged."

"She got married, you know."

"I know. I was there. I did her photos."

"Kurt got married too."

"I know, Mercedes did the stills, I did the video." Tim smiled about that. That was a great job, they're still getting referrals from that one. And at Manhattan rates, too!

"He had a baby."

"I know."

"And his son had a Bar Mitzvah."

"Yes."

"He's happy as hell."

"And you?"

"Happy. Deliriously happy." he said frowning.

"You look it." Tim was not particularly interested in the life and times of Kurt Bronstein Hummel.

"What's that supposed to mean?" And why is that his business anyway?

"Seen Mercedes lately?" Tim switched topics.

"Not in about a year."

"Come up with me." he smiled. "Let's visit her."

"Why?"

"I told her I ran into you. She wants to see you again. Said she misses you."

"Did you describe how you ran into me?"

"I said I was in Columbus working. She knows I play at bars so she probably figured out that much. How much more you want to tell her is your business."

"I thought you were gay."

"How many times are we going to go over that? I have a wife and baby." Tim started gathering his stuff. "A wife who's going to kill me if I don't show up in Lima before noon. Bring my guitar along, I have to get going."

"You'd be surprised how many men with wives and children I've slept with." he said picking up the guitar case.

"Okay, I'll give you that point. But you haven't slept with me. I definitely would have back in high school but you had Kurt and I had Ben, or at least I thought I had Ben. I sleep with Alice now, period."

"And Mercedes, you slept with her."

"Are you hungry?" he asked pulling the door closed behind them. He checked to make sure it was locked. "Do you want to eat here or in Lima?"

"We can eat here. I live around the corner. I may be a promiscuous alcoholic but I draw the line at drunk driving."


Blaine's home was a triplex, a house with three apartments. Blaine lived on the top floor, with a rooftop deck that overlooked the Ohio River and downtown Columbus. "That's why I bought this place, the view." he said rifling though his mail. "Plus the other apartments are easy to rent. Good schools, convenient location, etc, etc, etc."

"You own this building?"

"Yes, my uncle liked me. About the only member of my family that did. I take that back, everybody on my mother's side is cool. He was gay, my uncle, but couldn't come out cause this was 50 years ago. That's why he especially liked me. I'm taking a shower, go cook something. You cook, right?" Blaine grabbed a beer and headed to the bathroom without waiting for an answer.

Tim scrambled some eggs while he waited for Blaine to come out of the shower.

"Much better" he said, grabbing another beer. "You want?" he offered it to Tim.

"No thanks. I hope you like scrambled eggs."

"Thanks." he sat down to a plate of eggs. "So back to Mercedes. Why do you want to take me there?"

"I can leave you here if you want. I just didn't want you wandering the streets last night. But she did say she'd like to see you."

"You guys discussed me? When?"

"Last night, while you were passed out on the floor."

"You called her in the middle of the night?"

"It seemed important at the time. Now I'm thinking I over reacted and should have stayed out of it."

"And you just call her in the middle of the night?

"If it's important. I call her, she calls me." He started clearing the table. "She saved my life. Usually people are being melodramatic when they say that but in this case it's true. This was 7 years ago, when I broke up with Ben, my boyfriend of years and years if you don't remember. I started drinking and screwing my way back home from LA. We ran into each other at a bar."

"Well, I doubt that the love of a good woman's going to fix what ails me."

"What about the love of a good friend?" he asked looking Blaine in the eye. "She didn't drag me off the bar stool and into her bedroom, determined to convince me of the joys of heterosexuality. I was primarily into men then anyway. Falling in love with her came later. At the beginning she just listened. She's good at that. If that ass of a glee director taught her anything it was how to observe and listen." He watched Blaine open another beer. "Hurry up! I'm running late already."

Mercedes had been a very solitary person when he knew her back in high school but the last time he was there her house is a beehive of activity.

Flashback to 2 years back.

When Blaine woke up he was still laying on the sofa. Someone had thrown a blanket over him but other than that nothing had changed. Well, Sam and Mercedes must be home, there's a clatter coming from the kitchen. Blaine walked into the kitchen to find two men, four women and more children than he could count. The men were Sam and Tim. The women were Mercedes, Tina, Alice and a young blonde he didn't recognize. He paid no attention to the kids, except he did notice that Tina and the blonde were each holding a baby.

"Hey, sleeping beauty! Want breakfast?" Mercedes asked. "Tim's making pancakes." She jumped up a got a coffee cup. "There's coffee." She handed him a cup and let her hand rest on his for a few seconds. She smiled reassuringly. Kurt must have told her what happened.

Blaine smiled his, 'I'm going to be okay' smile. "You remember Sam's sister Stacey? Meet her new baby, Jake. Stacey, Blaine Anderson, old friend of the family. It's a good thing you're here, we need another big strong man. Stacey and Jake are moving in, to keep me company when Sam's deployed, and there's furniture to be moved. Can you stay for a few days? Please?"

"Thank you. And just coffee's fine."

The women and children went off to buy, or more accurately argue over, paint, leaving the men with orders to move furniture. Instead Sam, Blaine and Tim were laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"So how are you doing, really?" Sam asked.

"I'll survive. The world's full of good looking gay men."

"But you wanted a particular one." Tim said.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't the easiest guy in the world to live with. A little on the high maintenance side."

"But you'd be living with him still if it were up to you." Tim said.

"Is this what you call cheering somebody up?" Blaine asked. "You're really not very good at it."

"It's like mourning." Sam said. "There's no shortcuts, you just have to go through it. When Patrice died, I didn't exactly expect it but I knew it was possible. She was a Marine and we were in a war zone. I've seen lots of people die, at least I was there when she died, most military spouses don't get that. I love Mercedes but I haven't forgotten Patrice, I loved her too. Military counseling, it was a good thing. I'd be a wreck today without it. An unmarried wreck because I would have never gone to the reunion. An unmarried wreck with a dishonourable discharge the way I was headed."

"When Ben and I broke up it was more of a mutual thing. Music stole my man. He and Alice are so much better than I am. It was obvious here but once we got to LA, the competition was fierce and they're ridiculously good. Course I can sing, that helped because neither one of them can sing. Anyway, I just wasn't into it as much as they were. I decided to come home. Mercedes helped me out."

Blaine wondered if Sam knew that Tim and Mercedes had once been lovers. Hell, he must know. There are three portraits of he had painted of her hanging in the house. One when she was younger and heavier, probably back in high school. The second one must have been done during the period of time they were lovers, a nude on a beach with flowers in her hair. The third was a joint portrait of Mercedes and Sam, done around the time of their wedding.

"Hell, you both know about me and Mercedes, no secret there. Then Alice decided to get off the road and move back to Ohio and help at the coffeehouse. Funny, I've been in love with her since sixth grade and kept forgetting. No matter what, she was always there. Fate. She does session work now, short jobs that pay big. She travels but not a lot. I travel but usually it's local. It's good because when we start getting on each other nerves one of us leaves town for a few days. Works for us."

There was a knock on the door. "Come in!" called Sam.

"Hey," Mercedes said shutting the door behind her. "I wanted to go someplace child-free. They're fun in short doses." She looked sadder than her words implied. She sat on the bed and Sam started massaging her back. She smiled at him and continued. "So what's new in man land?"

"Broken hearts of one variety or another, voluntary and involuntary." Blaine said.

"You'll be okay, Blaine." Mercedes started. "I know it hurts like hell right now. Like you can't believe it's actually happening that way, like he's going to call you any minute and start begging you to come home. I talked to him, he's serious this time. You can stay here as long as you need to, you're family. You should be with family now." She turned to Sam, "And in a terrible coincidence of bad timing, we're invited to a wedding next Saturday."

"We are?" Sam asked.

"You're invited too, Blaine. Dress code is casual, shot-gun optional, isn't it Tim?"

"Only way I could get Miss 'It's just a piece of paper' to sign that piece of paper." he said with a grin. "Now it's important."

"Congratulations." Sam said. "When's her due date?"

"Three months from now. We would have said something earlier but she's superstitious and, well, you know."

"Tim, you know I'm happy for people who can have kids." Mercedes said. "If it bothered me I wouldn't be best friends with Tina 'be fruitful and multiply' Abrams. I saw three of her four kids being born. Alice asked me to coach her, I've done it so many times. I can't wait to see what your baby would look like."

Back to the present (ie two years from the previous scene)

Alice played the piece she wrote last week again. "Does that fit your lyrics?"

"I think I can make the lyrics fit." Mercedes said from the sofa. "It's pretty, especially the bridge. And you sold it already?"

"I need words, and can you record a demo tape of it? But yes, it's already half-sold. I made a lot of connections, all those years on the road." She put down her guitar, picked up and kissed the baby clinging to her knees. Gibson had jet-black hair that was curly like Alice's and brown, almond-shaped eyes. He was definitely the most exotic baby Mercedes knew, a title Tina's four girls previously held. "Yes, momma did! Can you believe Tim put up a fight about naming him Gibson? Lucky I didn't name him Fender."

"Even you aren't crazy enough to name a baby Fender."

"Actually Gibson was the compromise name. Anyway," She kissed the baby again. "Tim should be here soon. Unfortunately United Airlines runs on a different schedule than he does and momma's gotta pay the bills."

"No problem, Gibson's my favorite baby."

"Any baby in front of you is your favorite baby." Alice said with a laugh. "You're a sucker for the smell of talcum powder." As they reached the front door she hugged Mercedes, deftly transferring Gibson to the shorter woman's arms. He gladly started pulling Mercedes' hair, which was shorter than Alice's but he didn't mind reaching.

Blaine observed the two women standing by the open door, Alice was taller and thinner than Mercedes, and still wore her curly brown hair exactly the same as in high school, long and loose. Mercedes was several inches shorter than Alice and seemed heavier then when he last saw her, close to a year ago. He didn't pay that much attention but remembered she once had trouble with her weight, which is why he noticed now.

"Great! She's still here." Tim said jumping out of the car and running up the walkway. Alice ran down the steps to meet him. The baby Mercedes was holding tried to jump out of her arms but she tightened her grip. Alice and Tim kissed and hugged in the front yard like he'd been away for a week, not just overnight. Blaine remembered when Kurt used to greet him like that, when they where in love, how the breakup hadn't been sudden and unexpected the way Blaine liked to pretend it was. "And did you take care of momma while I was gone?" Tim asked the baby, taking him from Mercedes' arms. "And aren't you supposed to..." she ignored him to hug Blaine.

"Blaine! It's so great to see you again. And perfect timing, as usual. Alice left me with a project I could use your help with. How long can you stay?"

"Ummm, I'm not sure."

"Well, you can stay as long as you want. Tim, are you taking Gibson or is he staying with me?"

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" he asked.

"Nope. Went to the doctor last week and got a clean bill of health. Back in the day women plowed fields in the morning, had a baby at noon and made dinner for twelve that night."

"That's because they were slaves, serfs or sharecroppers, none of which you are. Listen, we're taking a ride to the airport, then I'll be back to talk to you about tonight. Blaine, make her sit down at least."

Alice straightened up from buckling Gibson in the child-seat. "Blaine, be here tomorrow because I need to talk to you. I need to throw another writer at this thing and get it done. No offense, Mercy, but they're breathing down my neck."

"None taken, maybe I'm just in too good a mood these days to write sad songs. Blaine," she said taking his arm and heading towards the house, "have you ever seen an Arangetram?"