A/N - Welcome to chapter 11! This chapter is a slightly different style to our usual and, again, it's largely written by Loki Firefox. It's quite lengthy at almost 10,000 words and we cover a fair amount of ground. It was fun to write (as always) and I hope you find it fun to read.
A quick reminder: this is AU fanfiction...and some of our characters are going to appear quite OOC from canon from this point. It's deliberate, and I'm keen for your reactions.
And now, for a week or so in the life of Blam...buckle up, there's a lot going on for our boys.
Finn fumbled another dance step with a groan, trying not to cuss Mike out for making the routine a little more complicated than it needed to be. "I'm sorry," he apologised lamely as Artie called out for them to take it from the top again.
Mike waved him off. "It's fine," he said simply. "You'll get it."
The tall boy shrugged and looked around the rehearsal space, watching as others went about learning their lines, got measured up for costumes, practiced their own complex dance moves...and then his gaze landed on Blaine-freaking-Anderson.
The short guy was sitting against the far wall, legs crossed, his eyes closed. At first Finn thought he was asleep, but the subtle bobbing of Blaine's head said otherwise. Closer inspection revealed that he was listening to music; the telltale white cord running from his ear and down under the collar of his shirt bringing a smirk to Finn's lips. Busted, he thought. They were still technically in school hours and Mr Perfect wasn't working hard at keeping his leading role; he was slacking off and listening to his iPod!
Ignoring the music that had started up with his cue to start dancing again, Finn strode across the room and loomed over the boy on the floor, bending down and plucking the earbud straight out of Blaine's right ear.
"Hey!" The former Warbler exclaimed, snatching the item back instantly and scrambling to his feet. "What the hell?"
Rehearsals ground to a halt around them. Good, Finn decided. He liked the idea of everyone knowing that Blaine wasn't pulling his weight. "Look around you, dude," he said, gesturing widely at the room. "We're all working on our parts."
Blaine arched an eyebrow, waiting for the rest of Finn's explanation. "And?" He prompted.
"And you're not. You're our Tony," Finn sneered the words, "And instead of working twice as hard, you're chilling on the floor listening to your iPod. Which I thought we weren't allowed to do." He folded his arms across his chest, quite proud of himself.
"Blaine?" Miss Pillsbury asked, coming to stand between them, her doe eyes wide and surprised. "Is this true?"
Finn's smugness grew as Blaine took a deep breath. He started mentally preparing his acceptance of the Tony role, because the teachers wouldn't let Blaine keep it now, right? Not after Blaine had broken the rules and been so disrespectful of everyone else's hard work.
"I was listening to my iPod, yes," Blaine answered, and Finn only just managed to prevent a self-congratulatory fist pump, "But I've only got Tony's songs on here." He fished the MP3 player from his pocket and handed it over to the guidance counsellor with a sheepishly apologetic smile that made the girl beside Finn sigh quietly, much to his annoyance.
Blaine was still talking. "I find it's easier to learn the lyrics by listening to them. I mean, I already know them, obviously, but it's helping me get into character as well...It's silly, isn't it?"
Finn nodded to himself, looking expectantly at Miss P for her corresponding reaction. What he saw instead, however, was a delighted smile.
"Oh, wow, Blaine. No, I don't think you're being silly at all. This shows great dedication and initiative." She gave the iPod back to him happily. "I am impressed."
"That's all you've got on your iPod?" Artie asked from Finn's side, making the taller boy jump a little. He hadn't heard him roll up! Blaine nodded and Artie whistled, shaking his head. "I could not do that. I'd go nuts. Way to be dedicated, bro. I'm with Miss P; totally impressed."
"Yes, Blaine," Rachel agreed, effortlessly emerging from the gathered crowd and sliding in beside her co-star, linking her arm in his. "I don't know why I didn't think of doing so myself sooner! I feel like such an amateur. You're definitely destined to be leading man material."
Finn wanted to throw his arms in the air and scream. What the hell was wrong with these people?
"Finn?" Rachel asked expectantly, and, instead of her usual look of adoration, Finn noticed that she just looked annoyed. "Aren't you going to apologise to Blaine? You've made a spectacle of him today for nothing."
He wanted to argue. He wanted to stomp his feet and demand that she start seeing things his way again, like she had done before the gay wonderboy ever walked down the halls of McKinley, but everyone was looking at him now, and even he knew when he was beaten. He sighed and glared at the floor. "Sorry, man," he mumbled half-heartedly at best.
Blaine just shrugged. "It's okay," he replied, "You thought I was doing wrong by everyone. It was sort of commendable of you to take a stand."
This time, a bunch of girls did swoon. Including Rachel.
"Oh, Blaine!" She gushed, making Finn feel ten kinds of shitty, "You're such a good sport!"
Unable to take it anymore, Finn looked for Mike. "Come on, dude," he sighed. "From the top again."
-?-
Rehearsals were fun but tiring. Mike took his job as lead choreographer and dance captain seriously. While the New Directions were National Champions, not all of them were dancers. Only Rachel, Blaine and Brittany had formal training, and Quinn, Santana and Tina at least had some dance experience because of being Cheerios. But the others, while some were lucky enough to possess some natural grace, just weren't used to the pace that more dedicated dancers, like Mike, were used to. Surprisingly, it was Kurt who broke first.
"Mike!" Kurt's voice cut through the auditorium like a hot knife through butter. "I would like to remind you that unlike your abstastic self, we aren't robots. The rest of us actually have to breathe between steps!"
Mike raised one eyebrow at Kurt.
"Don't give me that! I practice at home every day without fail! So much so that my father now knows the entire score by heart!"
Mike tilted his head to one side.
"Fine! You win, but just so you know, I'm only putting up with your fascist dance schedule because when all this is over you'll be able to bounce a quarter off my ass!"
Quick as a whip, from the other side of the stage, Unique called back, "Like that's what you'd want him to do to your ass!"
There was a moment of silence before Sam's guffawing laughter echoed through the auditorium. "Dude," he broke line and held up his hand to the dark skinned diva for a high five.
"Samuel!" Rachel shook her head, her hands now on her hips. "What have I told you about encouraging them?" She gestured towards Mike. "Poor Michael is trying to teach some very complicated choreography and you are not helping him."
The blond grinned, completely unrepentant. "But Mike loves me."
Mike arched an eyebrow at him, arms now folded across his chest, his disapproval obvious.
Rachel sighed. "I hate to say I told you so, Sam."
"Who are you kidding, honey?" Unique laughed, "You love to say it."
Rachel rolled her eyes, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips."Regardless," she pressed on, turning back to Sam, "We're all waiting on you."
Sam shrugged, winked at Mike, and, with one final "You know you love me," took his place back in line.
-?-
Blaine grunted when he got a sharp pain from his ankle. He powered through it so he could move into place. Puck had signalled to him -to him- to get into position and he wasn't going to miss this chance. He faked the defender, although that meant putting all his weight on his right ankle for a moment. The pain almost made him pass out, almost but not quite, but he succeeded and got around the guy just as Puck was in the right place to pass him the ball. He caught it and, with an almost negligent flick, sent it rocketing into the goal.
The crowd roared as the Titans' lead grew. Blaine let the crowd's approval and adulation fill him up and for a minute he could forget the pain.
He heard the substitution whistle and he saw that Coach was replacing him. For a second he was worried that Beiste noticed him favoring his right ankle, but as he drew near, all she said was, "Great job Anderson, we're going to win this even if we don't score another goal tonight. You rest. I'll need you in tip-top shape for qualifiers."
Blaine just nodded and sat on the bench, relieved that he didn't get caught.
Much later in the gym, Blaine ignored the hollering and shouts of the team as they celebrated another win. Blaine kept his head down as he put away his equipment, quietly wondering if he should just pack up and shower at home or fiddle around with his stuff and wait until everyone else was done showering. He really wanted a shower.
"Hey Ollie! What time will you be at Kitty's place?"
Ah yes, the celebratory party at Kitty Wilde's house. He didn't get an invite, no surprise there, but at least that meant that the guys would hurry, so he probably wouldn't have to wait long to shower after all.
"Good job, Anderson."
Blaine blinked and looked up. It was Rutherford. He stared at the guy and the guy, Matt, blushed but seemed to gather his resolve. He nodded at Blaine and then walked out of the gym.
Blaine was shocked. While Rutherford kept his distance and wasn't one of the guys who shoved him around or called him names, he didn't defend Blaine either and he did join in when they used to play keep-away.
Blaine just shrugged and, noticing that the showers were clear, went and took his well-earned reward. When he got back, the locker rooms were well and truly empty and his bag was emptied onto the wet floor.
Blaine cursed himself. A kind word from Rutherford had made him careless. He sighed, telling himself that at least they hadn't run off with it or sprayed the inside of his bag with shaving cream like last time.
-?-
The weekend found Blaine reorganizing the CD racks at work. It was an hour before the store opened and it was the first time that Alex was letting him mind the store on his own. He'd let Blaine in earlier but told him that he was having brunch with his family, simply instructing Blaine to "make him plenty of the money".
Blaine was proud that he had earned Alex's trust but he was also a little apprehensive. The store generally saw light traffic -its customer base was small but dedicated- but early Saturday and Sunday afternoons could often see the little store get completely swamped.
Once he'd asked his boss how he had used to manage on his own. Alex's reply had made him equally pleased and embarrassed.
"You think store was always this full? Perhaps you were thinking old Alexei was feeling sorry for young Blaine, hmm?" Alex had asked with a twinkle in his eye. "I have, how you say, loyal customers but not very big. But you, boychik, you bring in new people. Did I not say you are good for business?"
Blaine had blushed and Alex had waved him back to work, but the words continued to play on Blaine's mind, even a week or so after the fact.
Sam was coming by after lunch to help out. He'd taken to doing that on weekends where the DQ failed to roster him on, and Alex was very well pleased. Sam didn't know as much about music as Blaine but he knew enough. He also flirted outrageously with the customers, in the way only Sam Evans could that was fun and harmless. Only Sam could get away with flirting with a girl in front of her boyfriend and have the boyfriend smile and grin in response, maybe because Sam happily interacted with the boyfriend as well.
The morning went quickly. Blaine even got to play some piano when a customer couldn't decide between the classic bridalmarch or Pachelbel's Canon for her wedding, prompting Blaine to play both for her. Blaine eventually made a sale when he suggested "Song to the Moon" from Dvořak's Rusalka.
She loved it so much that she bought three CDs of different versions of the opera.
Following her enthusiastic reply, Blaine was approached by a couple of Saturday browsers if he had any suggestions on which opera they should listen to and Blaine spent a lovely hour discussing it with them, with several regulars throwing in their own ideas.
As Blaine was closing for lunch, he thought he saw a familiar mohawk duck into a nearby alley, but he chalked it up to paranoia after what had happened after the last game.
He started when he heard someone knock on the door, turning to see a grinning Sam holding up a basket. Blaine grinned and unlocked the door, letting Sam in.
"Sam, your mom is totally spoiling me."
"Whoa there Anderson," Sam interrupted. "How do you know that she didn't make me a packed lunch and I just brought it over to share with you?"
Blaine just gave Sam a look and Sam grinned. "Yeah, you're right, it's for you. You're totally her favorite," headmitted without a trace of rancor.
"That's because I actually know which fork to use on the table," Blaine said as he put a cloth on the counter while Sam unpacked their lunch.
"'Mary, is there fennel in this chicken? It's so good.'" Sam mimicked Blaine exactly and Blaine blushed. "Way to make me look bad, Anderson."
"I couldn't help it!" Blaine exclaimed laughing, "It was really good and I wanted to make sure I got the herb right!"
Sam snorted, "Whatever, but you totally won her over that night, B."
Blaine grinned as Sam muttered "fennel" under his breath good-naturedly.
"Um, Sam, there's only one fork and knife here," Blaine said.
"Are you sure?" Sam asked as he searched through the basket. "Huh, I guess when I was packing your lunch I forgot that I was joining you." Sam shrugged, "You don't mind sharing, do you? I promise I don't have cooties."
"Are you sure, Sam?" Blaine asked with a cheeky grin as he handed the fork over. "Because I kinda know where that mouth has been...cough-Santana-cough."
"Dude!" Sam tried hard to keep his mouth from smiling, "That's low!"
"But true," Blaine said unrepentantly.
"Promise you won't bring up the dreaded ex and I'll let you have the drumstick."
"God you're easy," Blaine said as he grabbed the offered piece. "Deal."
The rest of their lunch went by and soon they reopened and the store was doing brisk business. Blaine was relieved to see Alex show up an hour later because, even with Sam's help,things were fairly hectic.
Alex was grinning when he approached Blaine. "Boychik! I am being happy to see many customers today."
"I'm so glad you're here, Alex, even with Sam's help we're having a hard time keeping up."
"Ah, these are kinds of problems I like," Alex said rubbing his hands together. "I will take care of register, you charm customers, da?"
"Da," Blaine shot back cheekily.
"Oh, and Blaine," Alex calls out to him, "my granddaughter is here. She is parking car. I will introduce you two later. Make sure Samuel is busy with customers? He is good boy but he likes girls. I do not trust him with my chavaleh."
"Don't worry Alex," Blaine answered, "I'll take care of it."
Keeping one eye out for what he assumed would be a raven-haired or blonde beauty, Blaine kept himself busy dealing with the customers. When he finally got a moment free he heard a husky voice behind him.
"So you're the big deal Gramps keeps talking about."
Blaine turned around and couldn't keep the shock from his face. He knew her, he saw her around school, and while Blaine prided himself on having a wider range than most people on what was considered beautiful, Lauren Zizes certainly wasn't what he was expecting based on what Alex had said.
Lauren smirked at him, and he realized she knew exactly what he was thinking. Blaine felt himself blush in embarrassment.
"Surprised, Anderson?" Lauren asked him with a note of challenge in her voice.
Blaine took a deep breath and looked directly into her eyes. "Yes, but I shouldn't have been." When Lauren's eyebrows rose in disbelief, Blaine shrugged and continued, "I should have known better. Alex told me he spent quite a few years growing up in Siberia. I should have realized that he would appreciate a different kind of beauty. Strength is beautiful to him."
Lauren looked searchingly into Blaine's eyes and, for a minute, Blaine was afraid she'd deck him. But she seemed to have found something she liked because she nodded once.
"Not bad, Anderson," she said, and Blaine could hear the hostility leave her voice. "Not bad at all."
With that she turned around and walked out into the back, whipping out her cell phone.
"Isn't she magnificent?"
Blaine started; he hadn't heard Alex approach. "She is something else," he agreed.
About an hour later, Blaine found himself struggling with two large garbage bags to dump outside in the alley. He should have done this hours ago, but with the amount of customers that had overrun the shop, he just hadn't found the time.
When he opened the back door, he received the second shock of the day. There was Lauren Zizes, the unexpected granddaughter of his boss, locking lips with no one else but Noah Puckerman, self-proclaimed Badass of McKinley High. He was sure he was standing there with his mouth open; his brain couldn't finish making the connection.
Then Lauren saw him. Her eyes narrowed and Blaine suddenly felt like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a wolf.
"Anderson," she growled out. Puck looked up and saw Blaine standing there. His eyes narrowed and he suddenly looked angry, but Blaine could also read the fear in his eyes.
Blaine felt righteous indignation flood through him. He's ashamed of being with Lauren! he thought. He's afraid of what other people would think about him dating someone who doesn't look like Santana or Quinn! No wonder he's sneaking around!
Blaine was now sure that it was Puckerman he saw earlier on, probably coming over to see Lauren. He turned back to the girl and tried to keep the pity from showing in his eyes or in his voice. Blaine tried to think of a way to break it to her without meddling. He owed it to Alex.
Lauren sighed and walked towards Blaine.
"Cool it, hot shot," she said. "I know what you're thinking and I can tell you now to drop it."
Blaine got a momentary flashback to when he had spoken the same words to Sam. He realized that there could be more than one way to look at this and Lauren didn't look the type that anyone took advantage of. He decided to hear her out first.
"Yes I'm seeing Puck, not that it's any of your business, but we are dating and we are keeping it on the down-low," she affirmed, then her eyes grew even more steely. "But that's because I said so. Got it, sport?"
Blaine blinked and looked over at Puck. Blaine received his third shock of the day when he saw how hurt Puck looked. Blaine didn't know what the hell was going on but Lauren obviously knew what she was doing and Puck wasn't really a friend so it wasn't really his business. Better to leave this well enough alone. He had enough problems of his own.
"It's your business, Lauren," Blaine said, "I don't want any trouble from you, Puckerman or your grandfather, okay?"
"See that's what I'm worried about, cupcake. Gramps finding out. He obviously doesn't know about this and I know that he won't approve. Not that it will stop me from seeing Puck whether I get Gramps' approval or not, but I don't really want to fight my grandfather. Plus think of my reputation if it got around that I'm dating Puckerman."
Blaine's head was reeling. Wait, she was the one who was ashamed of Puck?
"Um, whatever you say Lauren," He answered. He refused to look at Puck. Blaine was worried that whatever his expression was, it couldn't be good, and he didn't want to risk Puck getting the wrong idea. Hell, Blaine didn't even know what to think of this!
He threw the bags into the dumpster quickly and was about to walk back inside when Alex came out, calling for him. Blaine swore under his breath.
"Blaine? Who is this boy?" Alex asked with a suspicious tone.
"Oh," Blaine said, thinking quickly, "This is Puck. He's, uh, a friend of mine" Don't kill me, he thought at the mohawked jock. "We're on the lacrosse team together. He's, uh, here to see me." Then it took all of Blaine's willpower to stifle a groan and to keep eye contact with Alex. Why did I say that? he asked himself. Covering up other people's bullshit is what got me into trouble in the first place!
"Is this right, chavaleh?" He asked Lauren.
"Sure Gramps," Lauren replied as if nothing at all was wrong. Blaine thought she must have ice water for blood.
"Why is he out here? Why not come inside store?"
"Um, that's because..." Blaine looked helplessly at Lauren and Puck.
Lauren rolled her eyes, "That's because Puck is seeing Blaine but he's not out yet. It's their only time for some tongue-on-tongue action and, Gramps, you are totally cramping their style."
"Hmph," Blaine could see Alex wasn't buying it. "Why are you out here then, hmm?"
"I was totally watching," Lauren said, "it's hot. Go ahead boys, don't let us stop you."
Blaine's eyes grew big and he saw that Lauren was totally serious. No way would Puck ever go for it. Hell, no way did he want to go for it, Puckerman's sex appeal be damned. The mohawked jock looked at his secret girlfriend for a moment and then at Blaine. This is why I should just shut the hell up! Blaine silently chastised himself. I so don't need this right now!
To Blaine's surprise -and horror- the other boy started advancing on him. "I'm not comfortable with an audience, Lauren," Puck said, doing a surprisingly good job of looking shy and unsure, "So, no, An-Blaine and I won't be putting on a show for you." He was right in front of Blaine now, close enough for the shorter boy to breathe in his cologne, a heady mix of spice and musk and cinnamon.
Blaine swallowed and tensed only marginally as the taller boy closed the space between them and wrapped him in a convincing hug. Puck's breath ghosted over Blaine's ear as he whispered, "You breathe a word of this to anyone, Anderson, and your life won't be worth living. Got me?"
Blaine licked his lips and made a sound of agreement, which, to Alex, probably just looked like the boys were whispering sweet nothings to each other.
Puck pulled back and gave Blaine an intense look. "So, I'll see you in school, babe."
Blaine nodded, getting the message loud and clear, and made the decision to stay far, far away from Lauren Zizes wherever and whenever possible. He turned to his employer and delved deep into his acting repertoire. "I'm sorry, Alex, for wasting work time on a boy. It won't happen again." He made sure to send a pointed look towards the others for emphasis. He hoped that Puck and Zizes got the message. He was not covering up for anyone ever again.
"What won't happen again?" Sam's voice asked, having snuck up on them all. He looked a little surprised to see Puck and Lauren but shrugged it off, at least until Alex spoke.
"Blaine has been sneaking around with this boy with bad haircut," Alex gestured towards Puck and Sam wanted to question him because he had to be mistaken.
But Puck was standing so close to Blaine but Blaine, who to Sam's trained eye to anything Blaine could see was obviously uncomfortable, still wasn't making any move to back away...
Filled with some emotion that he didn't really want to name, Sam clenched his jaw and looked at Alex determinedly. "Okay, well, there's a customer asking questions about Rachmaninov," and he was so proud of himself for pronouncing it right, "and I can't help her. And I'm kind of beat, so I was thinking I'd head home early. Is that okay?"
Blaine frowned at that. He and Sam usually closed up and went back to his apartment to talk nonsense and just hang out. But, if Sam really was too tired, Blaine guessed he understood. It didn't prevent the pang of bitter disappointment from stabbing at him, though. Nothing good ever comes from lying to your friends, I have got to remember that, he told himself firmly.
Alex agreed and sent Lauren inside, pointedly wishing Puck a good day and then gesturing for Blaine to run ahead. "You go help customer," he urged, "Samuel, wait a moment."
Sam nodded and waited by the door, refusing to look at Blaine as he passed. How could his friend -his best friend, even- have kept something as monumental as dating his former bully from him?
"What is that saying you have here in America, about appearances?"
Sam was taken aback by the question but decided to answer it. "Um, the one about appearances can be deceiving?"
"Yes, that is the one," Alex said with a sad smile, "where I grew up, we did not have that luxury. Everything that we saw, that is what it was. Snow was snow, wood was wood, if Bubeh said to come inside, you go inside. We could not afford to have appearances."
Sam nodded, not quite understanding where Alex was going but willing to listen to him. He would rather stay out there for another hour than see Blaine right then (although why that was he wasn't willing to face yet).
"Here in America life is easier," Alex continued as if he had all the time in the world, "and so people respect other things. They admire appearances. My granddaughter, she is strong. She is beautiful because she is strong. Where I grew up, my chavaleh would be prized but here, here she is not prized."
Sam wished that Alex would get to the point and Alex seemed to sense his impatience.
"Boy with bad haircut was not here for boychik, he was here for my chavaleh. They think that Old Alexei does not see but I do see. Boy with bad haircut must be worthy of her strength, do you see?"
"Um, Puck is actually seeing Lauren on the sly and to keep it from you they're pretending that he's actually seeing Blaine?"
"Appearances can be deceiving," Alex says with a shrug.
"Um, with all due respect Alex," Sam responded exasperatedly, "why didn't you just say so?"
"Ah the young these days! They don't see!" Alex threw his hands in the air as he walked past Sam. "And how do you know that story was just about my chavaleh and her suitor, hmm? Appearances, hah!"
Sam shook himself and muttered about cryptic, old men. "Crazy he is," Sam spoke under his breath in his best Yoda-voice. "Mysterious he tries to be. Fail he does. Irritation all he accomplishes."
As he walked back inside he felt better knowing that Blaine wasn't seeing Puck. Because it wouldn't have been healthy, that's all. It wouldn't be a good thing for Blaine to be seeing someone who used to bully him. And with that final thought, Sam approached Blaine with a lighter heart.
"Irritation leads to anger."
"What, Sam?" Blaine asked, puzzled.
"Anger leads to hate."
"Sam? Are you okay? I thought you were going home?"
"Hate leads to suffering."
"Okay Yoda," Blaine said, rolling his eyes, "you're obviously feeling better. Can you bring in another guitar from storage?"
"Do. Or do not. There is no try."
"You're such a dweeb," Blaine chuckled as Sam quickly moved to the back of the store, answering Blaine's laugh with one of his own.
-?-
It was Monday again before he knew it, and Blaine had spent his entire day looking forward to his rehearsal period. It had arrived quickly enough, though, and he currently stoodsmiling at Rachel and she was grinning right back at him. Their last notes still hung in the air but Blaine knew they killed Tonight.
"Oh. My. God," Kurt had his hands clasped in front of his chest, his eyes were suspiciously bright. "I feel...that was...I just can't...oh my God!"
"Okay, maybe you can be Maria after all," Unique said off-handedly, but no one missed her surreptitiously wiping her eye.
Blaine had a huge smile as everyone continued complimenting him and Rachel on the duet. He saw Sam standing in the back with an expression on his face that Blaine could read all too well. He excused himself and walked to his friend.
"Fine, you were right," he said with a smile. "Go ahead, say it. You've earned it."
Sam's face broke out into an impossibly wide grin. "I told you so! I knew you were going to love this! I told you! I told you!"
Blaine laughed and let him gloat. He was feeling too good to feel annoyed.
-?-
"Oh. Em. Gee, guys!" Sugar exclaimed, taking her seat at the glee lunch table across from Rachel. "That last rehearsal, like, blew my mind. You and Mr Hottie McHotpants were, like, meant to play star-crossed lovers, Rach."
Rachel preened under the praise, shaking her head at the newest nickname for Blaine. "Hottie McHotpants, Sugar? Really?"
Sugar shrugged. "He's hot," she extrapolated, as though that explained everything. Leaning forward on her elbows, she swooned. "When you guys sang Tonight Tonight, I almost ran on stage and threw myself at him. I don't know how you do it, Rach. You're the perfect Maria."
A strangled noise came from further down the table and the girls turned their heads to see Mercedes standing up and snatching her lunch tray up, slamming it on top of the trash can on her way out the door.
Sugar frowned and cocked her head to the side. "What'd I say?" She asked, genuinely perplexed.
Rachel sighed. "It's okay, Sugar," she said, "Mercedes has yet to come to terms with the consequences of her own actions. That is, she's upset that she's thrown away what was more than likely her only chance to have a leading role in a production like this." The dark skinned diva's failed ultimatum had become common knowledge by now, though Rachel had (on a few occasions) found herself labelled the villain in the retelling. But, as with her entire high school career, she held her head high and reminded herself that she was destined for greatness and this little cow town would one day rue the day they ever crossed Rachel Barbra Berry.
Santana scoffed and made a pointed effort to push Rachel as she sauntered past, heading in the same direction Mercedes had left. "Watch it, RuPaul," she spat, sneering at Blaine as he approached from the cafeteria line. "You too, Frodo."
He looked bewildered. "What was that all about?" He asked as he slid into place beside Rachel.
She shook her head. "The usual, I suppose. Though why she's upset with you, I can only put to pure conjecture at this point. I'm assuming it has something to do with your decision to befriend me...and Sam. She's rather territorial about her conquests."
Blaine nodded, accepting that as valid an explanation as any. "Well, I can't help that you guys are awesome friends," he told her, stealing a celery stick from her tray.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Blaine Anderson, but not into my lunch," she informed him, stealing it back before he could bite into it.
-?-
"Can you believe the nerve of them?" Mercedes ranted to Finn as they filed into their elective art class, "Making those digs at me like that? In the cafeteria where everyone could hear?" She screwed up her face, sourly mimicking Sugar. "'Oh Rachel, you're a better Maria than Mercedes'."
Finn frowned. "I don't think she actually said those words..."
His companion waved dismissively. "She might as well have! It's humiliating! I should be Maria, not her. Just like you should be Tony. Not that hairy little gay boy. That's pretty insulting, too, you know," she goaded, knowing just which buttons to push to bring Finn up to her level, "I mean, you're the tall, strong, male lead in New Directions...and instead they give Tony to some short furry little-"
"Hey guys," the object of her ranting cut in, taking his seat in front of them, oblivious to what she'd been saying.
Finn scowled at the back of his gel helmet. "Dude, why are you even in this class?" He asked, not bothering to couch the resentment in his voice. Mercedes' nagging had done as she'd intended, making him focus on all the negatives about Blaine's presence.
The former Warbler turned back around to face the glee members. "I'm sorry, what?" He asked, somewhat confused. "What's wrong with me taking an art elective?"
"You know we don't do Life Drawing in this class, right?" Mercedes asked, her tone saccharine sweet, not bothering to answer his question. "Like, there won't be any naked men or anything, if that's why you joined."
"I really don't-"
Finn caught up and looked at Mercedes, a little revolted. "Oh, gross."
Blaine rolled his eyes. So that was how it was going to be? He didn't need this. Whatever their problem was, he wasn't going to play along. "You're right," he told them with a liberal dose of sarcasm, "So, if you don't mind, I'm going to turn back around and forget we even had this conversation." He faced the front of the classroom again, wondering what it was, exactly, that he'd done to suddenly spark so much hostility from various members of the glee club. Part of him wanted to ask Sam, but he thought that a) that might make things worse and b) this was his issue, nobody else's.
-?-
Finn didn't realize how thunderous his expression was as he looked at Blaine, Sam and Mike moving like lightning on the stage. Fortunately for him, everyone was too busy looking at the same three boys to notice his sour face. Mike had choreographed a pretty impressive piece involving jumps, kicks and almost acrobatic moves to represent the climactic fight between Tony, Bernardo and Riff. Granted, the lion's share of the difficult moves rested on Mike, but Blaine had several tricky ones as well. Even Sam wasn't spared, although his relied more on his strength than on his agility.
Finn had to admit to himself that there was no way he would have been able to pull that off. Even Sam's part would have stumped him. Instead of calming him though, this realisation only fed his resentment. If he were Tony, Finn thought that they wouldn't have had to resort to cheap gimmicks. He would've made the love thing with Rachel work. And there wouldn't be any of this Mercedes drama because, if he were Tony, everyone would see how perfect he and Rachel were together that no one would question it, not even Mercedes. Which was a good thing, too, because as much as he liked Mercedes as a friend, he didn't know if he could act like he was attracted to her. Mercedes wasn't his type, she was too ... loud, but not in a Rachel way which would have been okay.
And Blaine was gay! How would anyone find it romantic when the lead actor liked dick? Who would believe it? Finn was positive that they only cast Blaine so they could prove that they weren't against gay people but how was that fair to him? Finn's step-brother was gay, that should qualify him as a gay ally or something. Right?
He twirled his baton, which he had to admit was kinda cool, and then quickly picked it off the floor when he dropped it. He looked around and was relieved when no one noticed. He could do this, twirl a baton. Eventually. See, if he was Tony he wouldn't have to worry about twirling a baton and he could just focus on making everyone believe that he loved Rachel. Everyone but Quinn, of course, because it was just acting.
Finn looked at Rachel who was arguing with Brad the Piano Guy about him being off. She looked hot in her dance outfit. Speaking of dance outfits...he glanced over at Santana and Brittany who were going over some dance moves. His appreciation of Brittany's legs and Santana's ass was interrupted by Tina's and Quinn's voices as they fought over a stupid detail on one of the costumes.
Finn noticed that he was all alone. This couldn't be right; he was the co-captain of the glee club, not some outsider. He looked around to see who he could join: Kurt was gossiping with Unique and Sugar: no. Rachel? No, Quinn would kill him. Artie was with Miss P, and Joe and Rory had gone to pick up something, Finn didn't remember. He'd heard the word "volunteer" and made himself scarce. He was sorry about it now.
As he was looking around he saw that the Three Musketeers -no, wait, that's too cool- Alvin and the Chipmunks? But then which one was Alvin? Mike? He didn't look like an Alvin, he looked like a Simon, but he was leading the trio, so...
Never mind, THEY were done. Mike pulled Sam aside to go over some steps and Blaine put on his ear buds. Finn frowned (again) remembering putting up a stink on the first day of rehearsal when he saw Blaine in those ear buds, hoping to get him in trouble, only to be embarrassed when Blaine proved that he was listening to Tony's songs. Finn grimaced recalling when both Artie and Miss P praised Blaine for his dedication. And when Rachel affirmed that that was what a true leading man would do.
He was watching Blaine, who was all gross and sweaty. The short dude was stretching and then suddenly lifted his shirt to wipe his face. And then Finn heard it. Silence. He looked around and saw everyone had stopped what they were doing and the girls were just staring at Blaine with hungry expressions.
Even Quinn!
What the fuck? The dude likes dudes!
Finn's scowl turned murderous as he looked at Blaine trying to figure out what the big deal was. Okay, so the guy had abs, he'd give him that. But, as far as he could see, that was it. He was darker than Finn and, sure, he had a bigger chest despite being shorter, but he was, like, hairy like an old dude! He even had a trail of hair going down his stomach past the garter of his sweat-shorts!
How can that be attractive?
Did he just hear Unique growl?
When Blaine pulled his shirt in front of him and looked at it with intense concentration, Finn began to wonder if he was doing this on purpose, because he saw how the action caused Blaine's arm muscles to bunch up. Somewhere across the room, Sugar let out a "woof". Seeing how wet his shirt was, Blaine shrugged and in one smooth motion took it off.
Finn then heard a low moan from Kurt.
From Kurt! His own brother! Dude, this was just wrong.
As Blaine was struggling to free his shirt from his headphone cords (now Finn was sure the guy was showing off, because if he just took off his ear buds he'd get it untangled in a jiffy), Sam walked up to Blaine with a knowing smirk on his face. He reached over and pulled a bud from Blaine's ear.
"Put that away Romeo, there are children present," Sam said in the very quiet auditorium. Finn was not happy when he saw that Quinn -his girlfriend!- had a thoughtful look on her face and a smirk on her lips as she looked Blaine up and down appraisingly.
"Wait, what?" Blaine turned to Sam with a puzzled expression. He finally got his shirt free and pulled out a fresh one from his bag.
"C'mon," Sam said with a laugh, putting his arm around Blaine's shoulders and steering him towards the exit, "we're out of bottled water and nobody else needs the distraction."
"What distraction?" Blaine asked, allowing himself to be led away, apparently not hearing the murmurs of disappointment or the mutters of promised pain for Sam.
Finn, however, heard it all, but what really made him stalk off in a huff was when he turned to find Rachel blushing furiously, her eyes glued to Blaine's retreating form.
-?-
Blaine arrived early to rehearsal as was his habit. He came in from the back and was working his way towards the stage when he heard silvery voices filling the air. He recognized it as Sous le dôme épais: the Flower Duet from the opera Lakmé. He wondered who could the singers be because they were singing it really well.
As he silently walked up to the wings, there on the stage were Rachel and, shockingly, Sugar. Sugar was seated at the piano, her fingers dancing skillfully over the ivory, and Rachel was standing by her. Rachel was singing the soprano part and Sugar the mezzo-soprano. Blaine was entranced.
Soon they were done. Sugar nodded at Rachel.
"That was better, Rachel," she said. "Remember that this duet? It's, like, supposed to be silvery and light and stuff? So you have to imagine that you're on a cloud or in Tiffany's, okay?"
"Got it," Rachel said making notations on a music sheet. "Thanks again for helping me work on this, Sugar."
"Hey, no problem," Sugar waved her hand nonchalantly, "When you're really up to it we should totally drop the French dudes and hit Verdi. He's really hot."
Blaine blinked at the thought that Sugar Motta was not only apparently classically trained but was knowledgeable about opera. Then again, she was in glee, she should be able to sing. Who would take in someone who couldn't sing into a show choir? He wondered, though, why he hadn't heard more about her talent being utilised. Did Will Schuester not know what he was working with?
Blaine shook his head and joined the ladies, greeting them enthusiastically and complimented them on their performance. When the others started trickling in, they saw Sugar and Blaine sitting in a corner talking animatedly in what sounded like Italian.
-?-
Mary Evans swore when she looked at the clock. Her family would be shocked to hear it, but Mary was frustrated and angry and she had no one to blame but herself. She promised to put a dollar in the Swear Jar and indulged by cussing three more times for good measure.
She worked part-time for Petal Attraction arranging and designing floral arrangements. The store couldn't afford to hire her full-time but this was okay with her as it allowed for extra income but still gave her time to be with her kids, especially the two younger ones.
She normally came in three times a week for four hours, but was on call for weddings and other special events, planned out in advance in meticulous detail by her boss, Ricardo. Today, however, another supplier could not meet the demand for a wedding and they were booked at the last minute to make up the difference. Ricardo could not afford to turn down this opportunity and Mary found herself designing and arranging fifty pieces by herself while Ricardo and his assistant, Troy, were out sourcing more blooms.
She had lost track of time. Between manning the store and trying to finish as many arrangements as she could with the available flowers, she was at the end of her rope. She needed to pick up her two youngest in ten minutes and Troy wasn't back yet. She checked her phone and saw two missed calls and a message from Troy telling her he had the flowers but wouldn't be back in time to relieve her. She couldn't close the store either, because, in the chaos, Troy had left his keys behind.
Dwight was doing inventory and wouldn't be home until almost dinner and now it was too late to call Sam to come over and get the car from her. Why didn't Dwight let Sam take his car when he knew he'd be in the store the whole day? She quickly squelched that thought as unfair of her; no one had expected this wedding emergency to happen. She didn't even remember if Sam had football, glee or musical practice today, or whether he could even pick up Stevie and Stacy if he did have the car. Throwing a prayer on high, she called her eldest anyway and prayed that he wasn't on the field. Her heart lifted when he answered after the second ring.
"Hi Mom, what can I do for you?"
"Oh Sam!" Mary sighed in relief, "Thank God you answered! You don't have practice today, do you?"
"Mom, are you okay?" Sam asked, concern coloring his voice.
"Yes," she answered, not wanting to alarm her son, "things got crazy here at the flower shop and I lost track of time. Can you pick up your brother and sister? Do you have money for cab fare? I'll pay you when I get home." Mary made a quick calculation and figured they could afford the expense. Besides she'd be getting a bonus for this wedding and the peace of mind was worth it.
"Mom, calm down it's alright," Sam reassured her. "I have Blaine's car, remember? I'm already at the school waiting for them to come out. Everything's totally under control."
Mary sagged against the counter, tension dissipating immediately from her had forgotten that Sam's friend had pretty much given him his car to use. "Oh Sam, you have no idea how relieved I am! I completely forgot."
"It's cool, Mom," her son said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Um, since I'm taking them home and it sounds like you're going to be working late and I have to keep an eye on the rugrats, can Blaine stay for dinner?"
Mary smiled as she heard Blaine's chagrinned shout of "Sam!" over the phone. That boy was so just so proper, sometimes to a fault. "Of course," she replied. "We're about due for another dinner anyway."
She could hear her son telling his friend to "Relax, dude, Mom already said yes, so chill."
"I'll think we still have some chops in the freezer, can you lay them out to thaw?"
"I got it, we'll be fine...gotta go! I see the unholy terrors. Bye Mom!"
"Goodbye Sam," she answerd and gratefully hung up the phone. She took a deep breath and allowed herself to finally relax. Maybe she and Dwight should revisit their rule about not letting their two younger kids take the bus before they were ten? Granted it had been a year since Stevie had almost been run over but...well,that was a thought for later with Dwight.
"Mary! I'm so, so sorry!" Mary turned to see Troy coming in with a crate of fresh purple begonias. "You can go, I'll man the fort."
"It's okay, Troy, I completely forgot that Sam had a car today. He was already at the school," Mary reassured him and Troy relaxed immediately.
"You are so lucky," Troy smiled in relief at her, "You've got the sweetest kids. I hope Belinda and I will be as lucky as you and Dwight."
Mary smiled in pleasure at the compliment. As Troy put down the crate, he grabbed a stool and sat down, wiping his forehead. "It's been crazy here today! I'd forget my own name if Ricardo wasn't shouting it at me for the past hour."
"That bad?" Mary asked and Troy just rolled his eyes. "Well, the sooner we can get this done, the sooner I can go home."
"Let me grab the other crates, I got everything except for the foxgloves, and Ricardo was able to find those."
And with a smile and a lighter heart, Mary got back to work.
-?-
Mary pulled into her driveway, seeing the now familiar Corolla on the curb. She got out of the car and grabbed the bag of groceries from the trunk. She didn't get much, just a few ingredients to make a salad to accompany the pork chops.
Before she shut the trunkthe front door opened and Sam appeared, shouting back over his shoulder, "Mom's home!" before striding out to meet her. After kissing her by way of greeting, he took the groceries from her, which she relinquished gratefully.
Feeling exhausted after her long day, Mary braced herself for cooking dinner. Sam, bless him, had many talents but cooking wasn't one of them. At least the chops and salad should be easy. But, as soon as she walked in the front door, a wonderful aroma greeted her.
She turned to her eldest, "Sam?" Sam just smiled and walked into the kitchen as she suddenly had to deal with an energetic eight year-old and a hyper six year-old.
"Mom! Guess what! Blaine is here and he let me make dessert!"
"No! WE made dessert!"
"You just mixed the bowl!"
"Did not! I also-"
Mary intervened before it escalated into one of their usual fights. "Well, I'm sure it's going to taste good. Why don't you two clean up and help Sam set the table, okay?"
Twin cries of "Yes Mom!" filled the house as they ran to the bathroom down the shook her head and walked into the kitchen. Inside she found Blaine stirring a pot, the chops laid out ready to be cooked, some bread cooling under a cloth and Sam at the counter emptying the grocery bags.
"What's all this?"
Blaine turned around and smiled at her a little nervously. "Well Mrs. Evans...sorry, Mary, Sam mentioned that you had a killer day today so we figured you might be too tired to actually cook. Sam said you banned him from operating anything more complicated than a microwave-"
"Hey! That's not what I said!" Sam interrupted with an indignant expression but Blaine went on as if Sam hadn't said anything at all.
"So I thought maybe I could help out? It's the least I could do after letting me eat here so often."
Mary smiled at the curly haired boy, barely resisting the urge to wrap him in a bear hug. "Oh Blaine, if that soup tastes even half as good as it smells, I may lock you in here and never let you go."
Blaine blushed and Mary came forward to see what he was making. She saw the thick creamy soup and gratefully received the wooden spoon that Blaine handed her. She tasted it and smiled in surprise. "Is this potato?"
"Potato and ham. And it's good cold, too, so if there are any leftovers you don't even have to heat it."
"This is excellent, Blaine, thank you. Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to cooking tonight."
"It was Sam's idea, Mrs...Mary."
She patted him on the cheek. "You'll get there," she told him with a laugh, referring to his inability to call her or her husband by their given names.
Mary turned to her son, who was grinning as he carried some vegetables to the sink to be washed.
"The table is already set, Mom, why don't you grab a seat? Take a load off. We'll have the salad ready in no time. The chops are ready, all we're waiting for is for Dad to text us that he's on his way and we'll get that done in a jiffy."
"Careful, Son," Mary teased as she sat on one of the tools, "I can get used to this."
Instead of witty rejoinder, Sam surprised her by coming over and kissing her on the cheek. "Well you deserve it. What do you say we kidnap Blaine so we can have him cook every night?"
"Let's see what your father thinks," she said with a wink at Blaine who just rolled his eyes at Sam.
"Awesome! Then he's as good as ours!" Sam exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air and making his way back to the sink to continue washing the vegetables.
"The kids mentioned dessert?"
Blaine grinned a little bashfully. "It's an eclair cake. Found the recipe online. It's basically a pudding mix and some graham crackers. No baking needed. Stevie and Stacy wanted to help, so..."
"It sounds delicious," she reassured him. She really wanted for Blaine to get comfortable in their house and the fact that he took the initiative made her feel that he was slowly getting there. She got up and helped herself to a glass of wine. After the day she'd had, she really needed one. She smiled sheepishly at Sam when he caught her putting her promised dollar in the Swear Jar. Fortunately, Blaine's back was turned. "Speaking of the two little devils, I better see why they're so quiet."
As she turned to leave, Sam's phone beeped to let them know that Dwight was on his way home. She left the kitchen in Blaine and Sam's capable hands and searched out her two youngest.
-?-
Sam was driving Blaine home, trying to fend off the drowsiness of having a full stomach. He had totally gorged himself over dinner. He promised himself that he'd work it all off in the coming week.
"Um, Sam?"
Sam turned to Blaine surprised to see him looking uncertain. He frowned, then looked back at the road, "Yeah?"
"You don't think," Blaine started and stopped. He took a breath and started again, "You don't think it was presumptuous of me...about cooking dinner tonight?"
"What?" Sam asked, incredulous. "That's crazy talk man! Before you forget I was the one who suggested we cook dinner."
"Yeah...but your mom just wanted something simple," Blaine insisted. "I was the one who raided your pantry to make the cake and the soup."
Sam stopped and thought for a bit. Spending almost every day with Blaine had given him a better idea about who he was and how he was raised. Blaine was fun and outgoing with his friends but, with people he didn't know, especially with adults, he could be almost painfully formal.
With information that Blaine had let drop, Sam figured that even before he came out to them it didn't sound like he'd had a warm relationship with his parents. Plus, even Sam had heard the stories about Blaine's older brother, Cooper, and how wild he was. Blaine's parents had probably been extra strict with Blaine to keep him from turning out like their eldest.
Sam took a deep breath. He reached over and squeezed Blaine's knee to give him some reassurance.
"Mom was totally grateful that you cooked tonight because she really was exhausted," Sam tried very hard to convey the truth, "and trust me, that pudding mix would have sat in that pantry for a year if you didn't use it. And that eclair cake was a hit! Mom wouldn't have asked for the recipe out of politeness, B. Trust me, you're cool."
Blaine nodded and Sam was glad that he seemed to believe him.
"By the way," he added, unable to keep himself from teasing his friend, "I heard Dad planning to give you Stevie's room while they convert the space above the garage into a loft for you. You are officially an Evans now, we are so not letting you go."
Blaine laughed and turned to face Sam, "Thanks. That means a lot to me."
Sam flitted his eyes back off the road to reply, "Anytime."