AN: Hi everyone! :)

If you haven't read the EN to the last chapter of my story " The Orange Relationship", I am currently taking a much needed break from fanfiction. Anyway without getting too much into it I am trying to update as much as I can.

Thank you all for the reviews and messages I have recieved. It meants a lot. :)

Anyway, on to the story. Here we are with Dave/Maxine with a brief appearence from Maggie.

I wanted to focus on Paul Karofsky and his son. In this story its been a week since last chapter. I kinda wanted a drama free chapter for a change of pace. There's still drama... But not as much.

Paul is different here than he was on the show or in my story "A Long Time Coming".

The song is 'Green Grass And High Tides' by The Outlaws.

All I'll say for now. I don't want to spoil anymore. Lol :)

Thank you ALL for the support.

Please review. Please be kind.

Have a nice day!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3

Chapter 21

"I said he's fine!"

Maggie twirled away from him with the grace she once had in her youth. She practically marched through the kitchen into the living room and realized she was being followed. She didn't care.

"I know he's fine, Maggie," Paul said, standing upright with his tall stature, "but I still want to take him out for dinner and…reconnect with my son."

"Oh sure!" she said, throwing her hands up, "Oh sure! I'm sure YOU want to reconnect with OUR son and you don't even give a shit about me!"

"You made your choice, Maggie." Paul said with gritted teeth. "And you will not stop me. I'm taking my son out for-"

"Your son?!" She stood up. "You listen here, you son of a bitch! YOU'RE the one that left me, so don't you DARE say a fucking thing about him being YOUR son! I'm the one that struggled through twenty-one hours of labor because of YOUR son!"

Paul sighed. "I know, I know…" He slowly advanced towards her. He looked at her with a kindness he hadn't done in quite a while. "What happened between us?"

For just an instant, she stared at him, admiring his stoic features, the protruded belly, and the intensity of his stare that used to hypnotize her. And then, she remembered his stubbornness, his inflexibility, his obtuseness.

"Just go, Paul. Go!"

Dave pretended that he didn't hear all of this from the top of the stairs. Instead, he clambered down like a typical teenager. The clomp, clomp, clomp noise announced he was coming and instantly, Paul and Maggie went silent. And when Dave arrived, he came to a sudden stop, knowing he was interrupting a typical argument of a divorced couple. No one said a word and Dave didn't know exactly what to do.

"C'mon Dave." Paul said, steering his son through the kitchen. "Let's go have dinner."

"Remember your carbs, Dave!" Maggie yelled from the living room.

Dave didn't slow down, but his teeth did grit a little. Instead, Paul escorted his son through the kitchen door and out the side door of what was once his house.

They got in the car and drove towards Lima. They rode in mostly silence. Paul asked about Dave's day. The boy said it was OK. The boy asked about his dad's day. Paul said it was OK. Dave considered turning on the radio but opted for opening the window. The cool breeze felt nice and he began to wonder what it was doing to his hair. He wondered if he'd need some kind of spritz or even some kind of perm after all the wind damage. It felt good, but was surely doing some kind of damage to his brown locks. He even considered asking if Kurt would like to go along with him, just to give him advice and encouragement. After all, what's a girl to do when you need help?

Dave shook his head just as Paul turned into the Olive Garden. And when they entered, Dave thought he was Maxine for just a long moment…

In a place you only dream of

Where your soul is always free

Silver stages, golden curtains

Filled my head, plain as can be

As a rainbow grew around the sun

All the stars above who died came from

Somewhere beyond the scene you see

These lovely people played just for me

Now if I let you see this place

Where stories all ring true

Will you let me past your face

To see what's really you

It's not for me I ask this question

As though I were a king

For you have to love, believe, and feel

Before the burst of tambourines take you there

Dave didn't hear his dad put them on the list. He didn't hear anything his dad said. He even didn't hear his dad ask him questions. Instead, he simply heard the wonderful, southern rock song that spoke to him in a VERY different way now. He couldn't believe the Olive Garden, of all places, was playing southern rock, but this was Lima, Ohio. You have to please your audience. Dave half-smiled and Maxine agreed with him as they were finally escorted to their table.

Green grass and high tides forever

Castles of stone, souls and glory

Lost faces say we adore you

As kings and queens bow and play for you

"Are you really OK, son?"

Dave finally snapped out of it. "W-what?"

"I asked, are you really OK?" Paul opened up his menu.

"Oh. Yeah. I'm fine."

Dave forced himself to ignore the music, ignore his existence, and ignore his life as he put his gameface on and perused the menu. The waitress showed up.

"Would you like to start with any appetizers?" she automatically asked.

Dave looked at his dad but he didn't look up from his menu.

"No, we're fine." The burly boy said. "But we'd like some water, please."

"Of course." With that, she left.

Dave took a moment to look around the Olive Garden. Thankfully, he didn't see anybody he knew, which heavily relieved him. He took another look at his dad. Paul had a bit more gray in his hair and his goatee was thick and strong. His double chin made Dave realize this was something he'd have to deal with eventually and the gray suit Paul wore was the wrong color for his complexion. Regardless, Dave thought his dad's presence was strong, protective, and secure – something he'd want to have in his life and perhaps for a future partner. Nevertheless, Dave returned his eyes to the menu, deftly ignoring his mom's warning about carbohydrates.

"I think the shrimp carbonara looks good." Paul muttered.

"Yeah."

"Or maybe the pasta salad?"

"I guess."

Nobody spoke for several minutes. The song over the loudspeakers that Dave desperately tried to ignore kicked into high gear and he grooved in his seat for a bit. The smashing guitars and firm bass stuck to him and he couldn't sit still! In the end, it was the waitress that saved the day.

"Here are your waters." She dropped them off in front of them. "Now, do you both know what you would like to order?"

"Not yet, dear." Paul eloquently said. Dave was momentarily speechless. He'd never heard his dad speak so kindly before.

"Alright then." She said. "I'll be back." She left.

Dave stared at him, admiring his manicured hands, his strong chin, his steely eyes that commanded strength and obedience. Dave had long been accustomed to that and he should've known he'd had this response. But then again, he hadn't seen his dad in a while and he was a bit out of practice. Besides, Maxine just wasn't Dave.

"So!" Paul suddenly began, placing his menu on the table. "Do you have any new friends?"

Dave chewed his thumbnail. "M-maybe."

"Well, who?"

"Ummmm…. What do you think of this tortellini, dad?"

Paul eyed him carefully. "I think it's fine. But what of your new friends?"

This was tempting. Oh, so tempting for Dave to reveal who his new friends meant to him. Or, her. Regardless, Dave had practiced his gameface too often and decided to go with it.

"Just a couple of dudes." Dave casually said.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

Dave bit another thumbnail. Paul looked at him but didn't pursue it any further. Instead, he grabbed his cloth napkin and delicately pulled it out of its metal binder and deliberately placed it over his lap. Dave watched all of this, absolutely fascinated and confused by this man who professed to be his biological father. The boy acted like he didn't know what was really happening.

"His name is Matt." Dave suddenly said.

"Matt?" Paul asked.

"Yeah."

"Matt what?"

"His name is Matt-"

"Have you guys decided what you'd like to order?" the waitress asked, abruptly interrupting.

Both Dave and Paul looked annoyed.

"Yes," Paul congenially began. "I'll take the shrimp carbonara." The waitress speedily wrote it down.

"You, young man?"

YOUNG MAN. Dave balked at the term, knowing she meant well, but she couldn't be addressing…HER, could she?

"I'll just take the antipasto salad."

She wrote it down, took their menus, and assured them she'd place their orders. When she left, Paul looked at his son curiously – something that bothered the young lad.

"What?" Dave asked.

"Antipasto? That's…not like you."

"What? I like it."

"I just hope…" Paul began, but stopped. Finally he found the courage to continue "I just hope your mother hasn't influenced you to order things you really don't want."

"I'm fine, Dad. One of my friends introduced me to antipasto and I like it."

THAT got Paul's interest. "Oh really? Which one?"

Dave looked away. As his thoughts drifted, he couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Matt." Dave confidently said. "Matt Rutherford. He's awesome. He's fun and funny and smart and God, dad! You'd love him!" As he spoke, the pitch in his voice got higher. "And he's soooo awesome! He stands up for himself and he knows how to say what he feels! He knows right from wrong and he's really good at video games and he's so, so cool! He's the kind of guy you'd want to bring home to your mother!"

Dave came to an abrupt halt. He hadn't realized he'd said all of those things. And when he saw the confused, surprised expression on his dad's face, Dave's heartrate skyrocketed. Abruptly, Dave took over.

"I mean," he cleared his throat. "he's cool."

Paul smiled. "Sounds like a good kid."

Dave fondly smiled. "Oh…yeah…"

Paul narrowed his eyes a bit, but said nothing.

Breadsticks and salsa were suddenly dropped off and the guys dug in. Dave chewed the hard bread while his father tore at it like a wolf. Around them, people ate very appropriately for fine dining in Lima, Ohio – dignified, with style, with grace. Meanwhile, the Karofskys tore into their breadsticks like a couple of eighteenth century Russians. Bread flakes flew around them and salsa was spilled on the table. They smiled as they chewed and it was a truly fun moment for father and son.

Or father and daughter.

Dave looked away.

"So," Paul began, "do you have any other friends?"

"Well, there's Azimio, who you know."

"Oh yes," he dipped bread into his mouth and talked with his mouth full. "I remember him. He…seemed like a good boy."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Anyone…" Paul dipped another piece of bread in the salsa, "else?"

"Wll," Dave began with his mouth full, "I spose thres anuder one."

"What? Chew and swallow Dave."

He did as he was told and said, "Well, I suppose there's another one." And then, he scrated his cheek, "But he's not who you would guess would be a friend."

"Ohhhhh?!" Paul enthusiastically asked.

"Um, yeah." Suddenly, Dave wasn't as excited to talk about this as his dad. So, he just shoved more bread in his mouth.

"Don't leave me hanging, Dave! Who is it?"

Dave swallowed his bread and took a huge gulp of water, like a shot of courage. Finally he looked up into the hopeful eyes of his dad.

"It's…before I answer that, do you know Burt Hummel?"

"Burt Hummel…" Paul looked away for a bit, scratching his goatee. "Name's familiar…"

"He owns Hummel Tire And-"

"Oh yeah, yeah, yeah!" Paul wiped his mouth. "I've wanted to go there for some time. I need a tuneup on my Mercedes and I thought about going there. I went to school with him." Suddenly, Paul looked at his son. "Why?"

"Well," Dave started, scratching his left arm, "I'm kinda, sorta friends with his…s-son."

Paul looked at him a bit. "But…that kid is gay…"

"Yeah," Dave defiantly started, "so what?"

"I just mean…" Paul shifted in his seat. "Nothing. I meant nothing by it, son. I'm glad he's your friend and you have varied friends. I know you've been missing…" he cleared his throat, "real friends."

Dave looked down, pretending the crumbs on his table were the most fascinating thing in the world. Magically, the waitress showed up with their entrees and the men were absorbed with their food.

Dinner went much more smoothly after that. Dave wound up ordering a Diet Coke (remembering Kurt loved that drink) and Paul ordered a Bud Light. The Karofskys ate their meals in silence, noting things around the dining room once in a while to each other. Dave even managed a smile once when Paul noticed the waitress had a nice ass. Paul winked at his son and tore into his shrimp. Dave picked at his antipasto and seemed to be having fun.

As the night wore on, patrons left and the southern rock was replaced with smooth jazz. Strange for that community, but there it was. It didn't take long for the check to be placed in front of Paul and he deftly paid for it. Dave tried to see how much the dinner cost, but Paul was much more clever. Lawyers often are.

Soon, they were in the parking lot and headed home. Dave considered opening the window again, but wasn't sure he should wind-damage his hair again. Paul didn't seem to care and enjoyed the silence, a strange, almost satisfied smile on his face. Dave surmised good food can do that, but he wasn't sure.

They pulled up onto the driveway of the house that once belonged to Paul. He put the car in Park and looked at his son.

"Dave?" Paul gravely asked.

"Y-yeah?" Dave answered.

"If…" Paul hoisted his big belly, shifting his aching hip towards his only son. "If anything EVER bothers you, I want you to know you can talk to me. Whether it's school or your mother or even girls," Dave looked away, "I just want you to know you have my full support and I'll listen to you and help you in any way I can."

"Thanks, Dad." Dave quickly reached for the door handle, only to be stopped by feeling his father's strong hand on his bicep.

"I mean it, son." Paul confidently said. "I MEAN it. I won't ever judge you and you can come to me with anything. You understand?"

Dave said nothing, staring at the air conditioner vents, wondering if his dad would ever accept who he truly was. Thoughts vanished into a maelstrom of nails, Matt, skirts, carbohydrates, Matt again, emerald necklaces, and…Matt.

"Yeah, dad."

Before Paul could say anything further, Dave escaped from the car, slamming the door shut. With a sigh, Paul watched his son practically run into the house without a goodbye wave or anything. So, Paul had no choice but to sigh and put the car in reverse. He left soon after that.

Dave ignored his mom's inquiries.

He locked his bedroom door.

She banged on it for quite a while, screaming questions on top of questions about the dinner. But they all went unanswered.

Instead, Dave simply crawled in bed and couldn't stop shaking.

.

AN: Again THANK YOU ALL for reading! :)

If you have questions, let me know. Have a great day!-ILOVESMESOMEGLEEX3