A/N - Alrighty, and now the fun starts! We're picking up the pace a bit from here on out. I'm excited! Are you excited?

As always, this was co-written by the immensely talented Loki Firefox.

Enjoy!

Despite his injury, and Sam's insistence that he not go to practice this week, Blaine found himself in high spirits as he stood in front of the postings for the cast of West Side Story. As Sam had predicted, he'd been balloted as Tony, the blond himself cast as Bernardo. Mike was Riff, Kurt snagged Baby John, Unique landed Rosalia with Santana Lopez earning and deserving the role of Anita. He frowned when he saw that Maria had been double cast. Rachel's audition had owned that role! Mercedes Jones, while a fine singer, just wasn't right for the part. Somehow he knew that was a drama that would end in tears.

Pulling out his phone, he stepped aside and sent Sam a text, asking if he'd seen the bulletin yet, before a loud voice caught his attention.

"What the hell?" The tall boy -Finn Hudson, Blaine recalled from their one meeting the day he'd been slushied- was scowling as he read the list of names, directing his complaint to the dark skinned girl at his side. "Krupke? Freaking Krupke? I'm the lead male soloist for New Directions! They've gotta be wrong. Who got Tony?" He scanned the list again, not realising that his competition was the boy standing a few away. "Anderson?" He asked, incredulous. "What? He's not even in glee!"

Mercedes wasn't paying attention, too focused on her own name being placed beside a pint sized diva's. She looked apoplectic. "Forget your whining, white boy. Look at what they've done to me." She gestured wildly, slapping the offending piece of paper. "I ain't second to no one! I'm no understudy, and I'm not sharing a role with that...that..." She struggled for a creative insult. "Hobbit!" Reaching out, she tore the sheet from the wall and stormed towards Miss Pillsbury's office. "They're gonna fix this mess!" She announced, before turning back to glare at Finn. "You comin' or what?"

The tall jock, thankfully only on the football team (because he apparently had very little in the way of coordination), ambled after the girl, still muttering to himself about the unfairness of it all.

Blaine watched them leave with a frown. This was not going to end well, he just knew it.

"Hey! Don't make that face! You'll give yourself wrinkles. You're far too pretty for wrinkles." Kurt told him, snapping his finger's in Blaine's face when he failed to get a reaction. "Uh, hello! Earth to Handsome!"

Blaine blinked, then blushed, embarrassed more by being caught up in his thoughts than by the nicknames. "Sorry, Kurt." He brightened. "Hey! Congrats on Baby John! You'll be awesome!"

"I got Baby John?" Kurt considered this for a moment and then nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I can work with that." He furrowed his brow and looked over towards the empty bulletin board. "How'd you know that?"

"Oh. Uh, there was a list. But, um, someone took it away." Blaine fidgeted and averted his gaze. He knew Kurt was bound to ask who and he really didn't want to start trouble, especially not between the glee kids. He'd only just managed to convince Rachel that he wasn't a spy.

"Someone, huh? Oh, sweetie, I'm not going to let this rest now." He reached out and patted Blaine's back condescendingly, "Tell your friend Kurt what happened."

Blaine sighed, "I'd really rather-"

"Blaine. I have a nose for a scandal. And underneath that divine aftershave of yours...no, seriously, is it Paco Rabanne?" Blaine nodded. "Right, well, under that I smell drama. Now spill!"

"Rachel and Mercedes were double cast for Maria. I don't know how Rachel's taking it, but Mercedes...well, she wasn't happy. So she, uh, she grabbed the cast list and said she was going to go talk to Miss P." He didn't feel the need to mention Finn at this point, seeing as the guy hadn't really done anything other than be vocal about his disappointment.

Kurt rolled his eyes and looped his arm in Blaine's, leading him down the hall, keeping an eye out for Rachel in particular. "Seriously? You know, 'Cedes and I used to be friends. She had this really cute crush on me-" Blaine looked at him incredulously and he snorted, "I know, right? So, we were like besties for most of last year."

"What happened?"

Kurt shrugged. "We both joined the Cheerios. And, no," he smirked slyly, "I don't have the uniform anymore." Blaine snorted and the taller boy smiled. "She and Santana hit it off and then...well, she changed."

Blaine noticed the droop in Kurt's tone and nudged him with his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

The countertenor smiled. "Don't be. It's high school B, and I'm too fabulous to let another diva bring me down. Besides," he squeezed Blaine's forearm, "I've got better arm candy now."

"Still not gonna happen, Kurt."

With a dramatic sigh, Kurt replied, "You can't blame a guy for trying."

"Trying what?" Rachel asked, sidling up to Blaine's other side as she joined the conversation.

"Shamelessly hitting on me."

"Kurt!

"What?" Kurt asked, completely unabashedly. "It would all be so much easier if he'd just give in to my charms already." He winked at Blaine and they waited for the inevitable tirade to begin.

Rachel didn't disappoint.

"Kurt Hummel, I am so disappointed in you. I'd have thought after what happened last year you would be the last person to harass-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Blaine pulled up short, suddenly serious. "What happened last year?"

"Nothing." Kurt shot an exasperated glare across at Rachel.

The former Warbler arched an eyebrow. "Kurt."

"Ugh. Rachel, do you see what you've done?" Kurt shook his head. "Last year there was this jock. Dave. He gave me a bit of a hard time. And then I found out it was because he was gay. And kind of obsessed. With me. It, uh, it didn't end well for him. He changed schools." Kurt shrugged. "We email from time to time, he's doing pretty well now."

"You email your former bully?" Blaine blinked. "That's...unexpected."

Kurt's grin turned coy again, "There's a lot about me that's unexpected."

Rachel's eyes widened. "Kurt!"

"Oh, fine. Spoil my fun." The coy grin morphed into a knowing smirk. "Or is this just a Rachel Berry ploy to have me back off only for you to sink your claws into your Tony here?"

"I do not have claws, Kurt and...wait. My Tony? Mine?" Rachel's smile could light up the Eastern seaboard.

Blaine groaned. "Nice one, Kurt." He turned to Rachel. "Not yours exactly..."

Her face fell. "I don't understand."

"Rach, Maria was double cast."

The look she gave them was akin to the one she might have worn if someone told her Streisand had died. "What?"

Kurt moved to her side, giving her a consoling hug. "Breathe, Rachel."

"Who?" She demanded. "Who am I sharing my role with?"

"Does it matter?" Blaine asked, only to be glared at by both of his friends. He held up his hands in surrender. "Shutting up now."

"Mercedes," Kurt supplied, ignoring Blaine's commentary in favour of making sure Rachel was completely up to speed. "And, from what I hear, her reaction was worse than yours."

"I don't want to share Maria, Kurt." She stated petulantly. "I was born to play Maria. I'm perfect for Maria. Just like Blaine is perfect for Tony."

"I know, Rach." Kurt sighed. "But this happens sometimes, even in the real world. Especially in the real world. Actresses sometimes have to share stage roles. And you're a professional, right?" He smiled encouragingly as she nodded (albeit reluctantly). "So you're going to accept their decision and be the bigger person. And you're gonna rehearse and show everyone that you were the right choice all along."

"Right choice?" Another familiar voice joined the conversation, "Sounds like you can only be talking about me." Blaine rolled his eyes but grinned at Sam as he meandered over, slinging his arm across Blaine's shoulders. "What's happening people? Give me the four one one."

"Miss P posted the cast list for the musical," Blaine supplied. "You're Bernardo-"

"Really? Sweet!"

"Kurt's Baby John -"

"Aww, dude, awesome!"

"I'm Tony-"

"Totally told you so!"

"And Rachel-"

"Wait! Don't tell me!" Sam closed his eyes and held his fingers to his temples. "Maria!"

Rachel's lower lip quivered and Blaine sighed. "Not quite. They double cast her alongside Mercedes."

Sam frowned, despite the fact that Mercedes was his ex and he respected her talent, he knew that Rachel had killed her audition. "That sucks!" He stepped away from Blaine and toward Rachel, arms extended for a hug. "C'mere. Let Sam make it all better."

Kurt pouted at him as Rachel giggled into his embrace. "Do I get a hug, Samuel?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You don't need one, Kurt. You're just trying to feel up my abs again."

Kurt's pout became more pronounced. "But-"

"Wait," Blaine interrupted. "Again?" He felt a momentary pang of what he'd probably call jealousy if he were going to acknowledge it at all.

Sam just laughed. "You've gotta watch yourself around Hummel, man. He seems all polite and sweet, but he's pretty handsy..."

Blaine reminded himself that he liked Kurt. That Kurt was a friend. That ripping his arms from his sockets was probably an overreaction. Especially when he had no reason to feel the need to do so. Like, at all. Nope.

"So, yeah, Mercedes," he said, clearing his throat. "Not who I was expecting to see cast as Maria."

Finn emerged from his and Mercedes' impromptu visit to Miss P's office, feeling as though he hadn't accomplished anything. In fact, he just felt more frustrated. Miss P had told him that she thought Krupke was a great part for him, and then had turned to Mercedes and told her in no uncertain terms that she and Rachel would share the role like mature adults.

Mercedes had thrown an epic bitch fit, stamping her feet and proclaiming that she was a star -the star- and that she'd rather have no part at all than have to share the spotlight with Rachel freaking Berry of all people. Miss P had watched her calmly, waiting until the tirade was over, her hands neatly folded atop her desk.

Once Mercedes was silent, a smug smile ghosting across her lips, Emma had leaned forward and said, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Mercedes, but it would be unfair to take the chance away from Rachel just because you tried to blackmail me into it." She waved her hand across the room. "You don't see her telling me to get rid of you, do you? And even if she did, I would tell her the exact same thing."

Finn had watched with wide eyes as Mercedes stood and scowled at the Guidance Counsellor, informing her that she was standing by her threat. "It's either her or me, Miss P. Mercedes Jones doesn't share her part with anybody."

Miss P had nodded. "I understand, Mercedes. We'll be sorry to lose you from our cast." She'd then turned her bambi eyes on Finn, effectively dismissing the loud diva. "I hope you don't feel the same way about your role, Finn. Officer Krupke is a very good part. And there's not as much dancing..."

He'd shaken his head and found himself ushered out into the hall, which was where he now found himself, staring down the hall at the others, his frustration mounting ever higher. Rachel was laughing, her back against Sam's torso, his arms draped over her shoulders. To her left stood Blaine Anderson, looking all proud of himself, and to her right...Kurt?

Finn felt betrayed. Kurt was his brother. He should be supporting Finn, not the competition! And why was Sam all over Rachel? She was supposed to be mooning all over him, not the blond. Sam didn't even get solos in glee!

And he didn't even want to get started on Anderson.

Finn frowned at the group as they horsed around. It wasn't fair! Why did all the other guys get everything he wanted? Sam had come in last year and stolen the quarterback position out from under him, now Blaine was doing the same with the musical, and Sam was all over Rachel. Not that Rachel was Finn's.

No, he was with Quinn. She'd started dating Sam last year and Finn had realised that he'd made a mistake by staying angry with her over baby-gate. People made mistakes, right? And she'd given the baby away, so there wouldn't be any reminder of her infidelity. So he'd pursued her, seducing her away from Sam in the same fashion that he'd taken quarterback. And it had felt good. Great even. She was the Captain of the Cheerios again, and he was proud to have her on his arm. And, despite the fact that she was back in the Celibacy Club, she'd let him round third base when they were making out in the back of her car on date nights, which he found super awesome.

And then Rachel had started crushing on him, singing him songs and throwing herself at him, and things had been perfect.

But now they were all falling apart. Quinn didn't want to mess around as often, Blaine had gotten the lead in the musical, and Rachel—dependable, loyal, crazy Rachel—had lost interest and moved on to Sam.

Little did Finn know, as he huffed and walked in the opposite direction, that his day was going to get worse.

"So, Samuel," Rachel beamed up at the blond, her perfectly manicured little hands clinging to his bicep, "Will you celebrate our casting with me in true showman style? I'd ask my Tony," she cast a pointed look at Blaine, which he deliberately ignored, "but someone refuses to join glee..."

Sam pretended to be affronted. "I dunno, Rach. Are you saying I'm your second choice?"

"I think that's exactly what Miss Berry is saying," Kurt supplied with a satisfied smirk. "Why, a fine specimen like you shouldn't settle for runner up, Sam."

Rachel's eyes were wide and she hurried to apologise for the unintentional insult, only to realise that the boys were stirring her. She huffed and folded her arms. "Never mind," she told them haughtily, "I'll just perform a solo with my usual award-worthy flair."

"Awww, c'mon, Rach, don't be like that. I'd love to sing with you."

Kurt face-palmed at Sam's gullible nature while Rachel's eyes lit up, the latter already rabbiting on about song choices and possible costumes, despite the fact that glee was that very afternoon.

-?-

"Hey Blaine," Will said as he came upon the former Dalton student during a free period, "Em...Miss Pillsbury told me that you got Tony in West Side Story. Congratulations."

Blaine smiled, making a concerted effort to give this guy the benefit of the doubt. Sam really enjoyed being on the New Directions, so the man had to be doing something right. "Thank you Mr Schuester," he replied, "I'm looking forward to rehearsals."

The teacher fell into step beside him. "I bet you miss performing, right? I overheard Sam telling Mike about your job..."

"Well, yeah...I guess."

Blaine refrained from flinching as Schuester placed his hand on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. "I think you'll be a good fit in New Directions, Blaine. I'm sure you'll make lots of new, special friends."

Blaine sighed and subtly removed himself from the man's grasp. "Well, my schedule is still pretty full...and with the musical it'll be even crazier."

"Blaine, half the cast are in New Directions. It would help you get closer with everyone, I'm sure."

"But-"

"You'll see, Blaine," Will said, cutting him off, starting to walk away with a smile on his face. He threw a wink back over his shoulder at the bemused teen. "We'll get you in the end!"

-?-

Sam spun Rachel around the front of the choir room as they sang, genuine smiles on their faces. He dipped her in an impromptu flourish to their simple choreography during a break in the lyrics, and she clutched at his arms, giggling.

Mr Schue watched with contemplation: pairing Rachel with Sam as the lead hadn't ever occurred to him until now. But they were good, they had chemistry, and they seemed to enjoy performing together.

Kurt and Unique were the first to applaud when the song came to a close, both wolf-whistling and causing a fuss. Mike applauded with the same sort of grace with which he did everything, and a few of the others clapped halfheartedly, used to Rachel's behaviour but surprised by the inclusion of Sam.

Mercedes and Finn sat in the back row of the risers, their arms folded stiffly across their chests, scowls on their faces. On Finn's other side, Quinn just looked perplexed. She was glad that Rachel seemed to have backed off chasing her boyfriend, but wasn't pleased that the tiny brunette had apparently moved on to the blond object of Quinn's affections. Still, she had no claim over him, she'd chosen Finn, and it was probably better this way.

"...was great, guys." Mr Schue was saying as he stood up to take control of the class again.

"Thank you," Rachel curtsied -actually curtsied- and beamed at the group. "Sam and I just wanted to celebrate the casting of the musical. Not only for our own parts, but everyone in this room who worked hard and received a role."

Mercedes scoffed but it went largely unnoticed.

Will clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Well it was excellent and we all appreciated it," he said, "In fact, seeing you guys sing together was really inspiring. You've given me a lot to think about for Regionals..."

Finn sat up straighter at that, tensing. He'd hated watching Rachel moon over Sam earlier, then watching her do her crazy-eyes at him in song had been torturous...but Mr Schue had just suggested that he was thinking about making Sam lead for Regionals and that was the last straw! "Uh, Mr Schue," he said, intent on reminding the man that he was Rachel's lead. He was the only male lead of New Directions. "What about that ballad you had Rachel and I working on?"

He sent Sam a smug grin when Mr Schue agreed that they should go back to working on that.

-?-

"Uh, Sam?" Blaine asked as they drove home that evening, "Where are we going?" They'd left school as Blaine normally would, but Sam took a right where he should have gone straight. "You picked me up just fine this morning, which makes me think that you're going the wrong way deliberately."

The blond kept his eyes glued to the road and debated on playing dumb, but knew that Blaine was on to him. "Umm...home?" He still offered weakly. He could feel the glare being leveled at him from the passenger seat.

"Sam," the curly haired boy said in warning, arms now folded across his chest. "Whose home?"

Sam sighed and looked at his friend apologetically. "Mine. Mom's making me bring you home for dinner."

Blaine's eyes widened. "What? Sam! Some warning would have been nice! I can't come over for dinner empty-handed!" He showed his frustration when he blew a stray curl that escaped his otherwise slicked-back hair. Sam could see something else was bothering Blaine, though.

"It's not coming empty-handed, is it?" Sam asked gently.

Blaine let out a breath. Sam stole a look and he saw Blaine was looking out the window. While waiting for his answer, Sam could see his reflection and idly thought that with the one spit curl dangling from his gelled hair, he kinda looked like Superman. Sam was startled from his thoughts when Blaine finally answered.

"I know I said it was okay for you to tell them," Blaine said. "But I still sort of wish that you didn't."

Sam had the grace to look even more apologetic. "Well, I came home with a car, B, which I haven't given back and it's been a while. They were kinda curious."

Blaine nodded. Yeah, he realised, there was that, too. "It's fine, Sam," he eventually replied, watching trees and picket fences blur by, "I just...knowing they know is one thing. Knowing they know and then having to face them is another. Just, a little warning would be better next time, okay?"

"But it's not as successful a kidnapping if you give your target advanced warning," Sam told him matter-of-factly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Spy School 101."

Blaine found himself snorting at that. Sam was such a strange mix of jock and nerd...it was endearing. "Right. So, I've been kidnapped, then. Do you make it a habit to leave your kidnappees free to do whatever the want in the passenger seat? My hands aren't even tied! And there's no blindfold."

Sam's attention was still on the road, but it was obvious that he was delighted that Blaine was playing along. His eyes lit up and his smile stretched across his face before he schooled himself back into character, adding his Sean Connery accent for emphasis. "Well, I determined that you weren't a threat, Mr Anderson. You've been incapacitated and are unlikely to make a successful escape."

"I see." Blaine sighed dramatically. "I'm afraid you've got me there. But I think you're underestimating my intelligence, ingenuity, ability to improvise and..." he lowered his voice, "other talents."

Sam laughed, and Blaine pouted. He'd thought his seductive voice was very convincing. Obviously Agent Samuel Evans was a tougher nut to crack.

And, no, he wasn't going to delve into the inadvertent sexual innuendo or puns he could make with that last thought.

Sam, meanwhile, looked thoroughly amused. "You're not exactly MacGyver, Blainers." He shook his head. "You'll just have to deal with your fate: dinner with my family."

They pulled in to a driveway of a small but inviting brick home a few minutes later and Blaine steeled himself for the inevitable interrogation. He pasted on his most charming smile and smoothed down his hair. Sam was laughing at him—although he was disappointed that the spit curl was now slicked-back—as he opened the passenger side door and helped him to his feet. He'd noticed that Blaine had been trying to walk as he normally would all day, and that, as the day wore on, his limp had become more pronounced. Without allowing Blaine a second to walk towards the door, Sam wrapped his arm around the shorter boy and tried to shoulder some of his weight.

Blaine struggled against him. "Sam, I'm fine. I can walk the ten feet to the door."

"I know you can, B. But the easier you take it now, the less pain you'll be in tomorrow when you try to act like there's nothing wrong again." Sam's tone spoke volumes about how he felt about that.

The shorter boy frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but they were already at the front door and it swung open to reveal a miniature version of Sam. "Hi!" the little doppelgänger chirped, grinning and putting his gap teeth on display, "I'm Stevie! You're Blaine, right? Mom said you were coming to dinner. Wanna come play Pokemon?"

Blaine blinked at the rapid fire way the boy spoke, feeling a little overwhelmed. "Um, yeah, I'm Blaine," he nodded, "It's nice to meet you Stevie." The little boy beamed at him. "But I might take a rain-check on the Pokemon for now."

"Oh," Stevie looked crestfallen and it made Blaine feel instantly guilty. He couldn't help but think that the miniature version of his friend had the unfortunate advantage of being able to wield the same expressions as Sam.

Blaine sighed. "Maybe after dinner, okay?"

The little boy brightened immediately and Blaine had the feeling that he'd just been played by an eight year old. Sam chuckled at his expression before gently nudging his kid brother out of the way. "C'mon, Stevie, let us in already."

"Sorry Sammy," the smaller Evans boy stepped aside and Sam helped Blaine into the foyer.

Blaine smiled as he took in the living space. The house had an open plan, the lounge, dining and kitchen areas all stretched out one after the other, not a partition in sight. The furniture, like Blaine's, was mismatched but homely, and there were photographs everywhere: on the walls, on shelves and side tables, even propped up beside the TV.

Beside Blaine, Sam shifted awkwardly, "It's not much..." He said quietly, forgetting, for a moment, about Blaine's own living situation.

"Sam, your house is awesome." Blaine hobbled forward to inspect an obviously recent photograph of Sam and his two siblings rough housing, the taller boy's head thrown back as he was caught in a bout of raucous laughter. He found himself almost a little jealous of the obvious closeness of the Evans family. Blaine had never experienced that. Cooper was ten years his senior and they'd never really gotten along. He didn't even know if Cooper was aware that he'd left their home and their parents. Blaine shook his head and another photo caught his eye. He grinned, "Is that you dressed as the Pink Power Ranger?"

Sam actually turned pink. "I was six," he defended, then, "Shut up."

"Sammy!" Another small Evans, this one female, came hurtling in from somewhere down the hallway that Blaine assumed housed the bathroom, laundry and bedrooms. She wrapped her arms around Sam's legs then, spying Blaine, blushed adorably.

"Stace," Sam said, prying her face away from his hip. "This is Blaine. B, this little Princess is Stacy."

"Hi!" Blaine said, bowing as best he could, causing her to giggle. "Princess Stacy, it is an honour to meet you."

She grinned up at her brother. "He's funny," she confided in what Blaine would normally call a stage whisper, "I like him."

Sam laughed and hoisted her onto his hip effortlessly. "I'll tell you a secret," he replied in the same sort of whisper, winking at Blaine. "So do I."

"Blaine!" An older feminine voice called and Blaine looked past Sam to follow the sound. A middle aged woman with a warm smile was striding into the room, making a beeline for him. She wrapped him in a hug and he closed his eyes, breathing in her perfume and sinking in to the most maternal embrace he'd ever experienced.

Yeah, he decided, he was definitely jealous of Sam's family dynamic.

The woman (who was obviously Sam's Mom) pulled back and placed her hand on Blaine's cheek, inspecting him with her green eyes. "I've heard so much about you," she said, eventually letting him go and pushing him down onto the couch. "Now, sit. Your ankle should stay elevated as much as possible."

Blaine felt a little bit overwhelmed again as he complied. "Thank you, Mrs Evans. Your home is lovely. I'm sorry I didn't bring anything for dinner...I didn't know I was joining you."

She snorted inelegantly at the accusing look he shot her eldest. "Firstly, Blaine, Mrs Evans is my mother in law." She made a face as she lowered herself into the seat beside him, and he found himself smiling, "So you can call me Mary. Secondly, you're our guest: you don't need to bring anything to dinner."

"But-"

"Sweetheart, you've obviously been raised with impeccable manners, but we're not all that formal here." As if illustrating her point, Stevie came tearing back into the room yelling, a dog hot on his heels. She sighed. "No running inside, Stevie."

The miniature version of Sam looked a little sheepish and ducked his head at the admonishment. "Sorry Mom. But Pearl and I were playin'."

Blaine was eyeing the dog wearily. It was a pit bull, dark grey with a white chest, and it was now sniffing at him intently. "Pearl?" He echoed, and the ears of the creature perked up. He willed himself to not be afraid. Dogs could smell fear.

The collected Evans family members were oblivious to Blaine's discomfort, Sam even putting his sister back down so he could reach out and scratch between the dog's ears. "Yeah," he said. "Mom named her. I wanted to call her Samantha, but Mom said-"

"No more 'S' names." The two young children finished, chorusing the words in unison.

Pearl was now pressing her nose right up against Blaine's thigh. He tentatively reached down a hand and allowed her to sniff it, proud of himself for not flinching when she licked him happily. Tension slowly evaporating, he slowly shifted his hand to her head—careful to approach from the side and not directly over her face—and gave her a gentle pat. She nuzzled at him, and Sam laughed.

"She wants a scratch, dude," the blond teen told him, "And she's not gonna let you go until she gets it."

Blaine smiled and scratched over one furred ear, enjoying the happy whine she let out as he obviously reached an itchy spot. She dropped her head onto his thigh and her tongue lolled out, her eyes closed as she reveled in the attention.

Sam scoffed playfully. "Spoilt brat dog."

-?-

Dinner itself turned out to be a casual affair, with the family passing plates of food and talking with their mouths full. Even Pearl was allowed to stay inside, sitting at Blaine's feet and sending him longing looks, begging to be slipped a treat or ten.

Dwight Evans, Sam's Dad, had arrived just before the table had been set, and he'd introduced himself just as casually as Mary had, shaking Blaine's hand and telling him to call him Dwight.

Over the meal, Dwight and Mary had been not-so-subtly asking Blaine about his apartment, his job and how he was liking McKinley. He knew that they were just being polite and concerned, but he hated being pitied and didn't particularly like the concept of anyone assuming that he was struggling.

"Mmm," he'd said, trying to take the conversation in a completely different direction. "Mary, is there fennel in this chicken? It's so good."

Sam rolled his eyes good-naturedly and kicked him under the table to get his attention, mouthing the words 'suck up' when nobody else was watching. Blaine kicked back and stuck out his tongue.

Mary watched the interaction but said nothing, choosing, instead, to gush over Blaine's question. She didn't often have anyone eat her meals who had much of an affinity for the culinary arts. "Yes! And there's a touch extra in the stuffing as well."

Blaine beamed and complimented the meal again, ignoring the next knock to his left shin. Then he and Mary launched into deep discussion about the different uses of fennel and Sam laughed out loud, earning himself a reproachful glare from his mother and a disappointed sigh from his friend.

"Oh, come on," the oldest of the Evans children moaned playfully, "Fennel? That's what we're going to talk about? How about the musical? Blaine's got the lead, you know."

Dwight leaned across and clapped Blaine on the shoulder. "Congratulations! You'll make a fine Tony if even half of what Sam has told us about your talent is true."

"Dad!" Mary's lips quirked as she watched her eldest blush. He was clearly quite enthralled by Blaine Anderson.

"What?" Dwight asked, "Didn't you come home only a few days ago and tell us that Blaine's singing was amazing?"

Blaine, by this stage, was also blushing, "You said that?"

Sam threw his hands in the air. "Well, yeah. I said it when you auditioned, too."

Blaine bit his lip and studied his chicken to avoid meeting the blond's eyes. "I know...but...you told your parents? That's just...really nice of you, Sam." He licked his lips and looked at Dwight, "Did he tell you that he was also really good? So good that he got Bernardo?"

Sam groaned as the attention shifted back on to him, his mother declaring that they should celebrate with ice cream. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, "Can we talk about something else now?"

He really should have known better than to tempt fate. His mother nodded, looking back at their guest eagerly, her grin similar to that of the Disney Cheshire Cat.

"Do the boys in McKinley rate to the ones in Dalton?" Mary asked Blaine with a twinkle in her eyes. "I remember some of them during some of the school events. I have to admit the blazers do give them a certain-"

"Mom!" Sam interrupted, cheeks blazing with embarrassment.

"What?" Mary asked innocently. "I thought you looked very dapper in yours, Sam."

"To be honest, I really haven't been thinking about it," Blaine jumped in, hoping to spare his friend (and himself) further embarrassment.

"Well, what about Sam here?" Mary asked to Sam's horror. "Granted he is from Dalton so it doesn't really carry the argument, but don't you think my son is, how do you kids say it? Hot?"

"I can't believe you just asked that," Sam said, his face shocked, Dwight laughing into his glass of wine.

Blaine blinked at Mary his mouth opening and then closing, not knowing what to say.

Mary sighed, "It's a pity. Maybe we'll get lucky and Sam'll discover he's bi-curious."

"MOM!"

"Of all the people you've brought home for dinner," Mary said with a sniff, completely ignoring his indignant outburst, "Blaine is by far the best one of the bunch."

"I didn't bring him home for dinner, you threatened to smother him with maternal death if I didn't bring him over," Sam muttered.

Stevie leaned over to Blaine and whispered in a voice that could be heard all the way to China, "Mom didn't like Sam's girlfriends one bit."

"Does that mean you're Sam's girlfriend?" Stacy asked with an innocence only a six-year old can pull off.

"Would you all please just STOP TALKING?" Sam groaned, head in his hands. He shot an apologetic glance at Blaine from between his fingers. "I'm so, so sorry," he informed his flabbergasted friend. "They're not usually this crazy."

"You're the one that wanted us to change the topic, Sam," Dwight pointed out, smirking with amusement.

"To something, oh, I don't know...sane and not uncomfortable."

"Why is Sam mad?" Stacy whispered to Stevie with the same volume as a rocket hitting escape velocity.

"Because Mom is teasing his new girlfriend," Stevie whispered back in the same volume.

"Hey Dad," Stevie asked, "Is Blaine still a girlfriend if he's a boy?"

"Blaine isn't anyone's girlfriend," Sam answered. "Or boyfriend. He's a boy who is my friend...why am I justifying this to an eight year old?" He turned to Blaine. "Now would be a good time to MacGyver your way out of here..."

Blaine shook his head with a laugh. Truthfully? He was enjoying the scene. Despite the awkwardness of being questioned by Sam's mother about how attractive he found the straight boy, it was nice to be included in such a familial moment. He'd never really shared this sort of experience before. Sure, there had been times with Cooper that had almost resembled this warm, haphazard sort of banter, but it hadn't come easily and he'd been worried of his father's wrath for behaving in an uncouth manner...

Also Cooper's banter always had a bite to it, an edge that hurt Blaine. Cooper was an only child for a long time and he didn't appreciate being taken out of the limelight, even by his younger brother. And when that younger brother proved to be as talented and charismatic as Cooper at eight to Cooper's eighteen, well, it didn't really engender familial love.

Blaine mentally shrugged at the memory. He had long since accepted that he and Cooper were not close and probably never would be.

But this? This was how he'd always thought what a family should be.

"Oh, no," he said with a cheeky grin, "Incapacitated, remember? Accepting my fate."