Okay, yeah, this one is just silly. It's too hot for writing today and my brain went to a weird place.

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"Thanks for coming out here today, man. It was cool of you to help out."

Kurt rolled his eyes and hitched the heavy camera and small trunk full of lighting materials he was carrying a bit higher into his arms as he followed his friend's wheelchair up a path and into the sizable back yard of a large house in one of the wealthiest areas of Lima.

"Glad to be of service," he grunted, wondering how he had allowed himself to be talked into playing pack-mule as well as performer in Artie's latest directing extravaganza. Especially when Kurt could have been at home sorting through more of his belongings before his upcoming trip to New York. He was leaving Lima for good in just two more weeks, ready to make his way in that grand city in spite of the recent setbacks to his original life-plan.

He might not have made it into NYADA, but Kurt had refused to be kept away from the city of his dreams. He was starting to think that his future might not look so bad, however. He had applied and been granted late acceptance to a small but well-regarded fashion design school in Queens, and was seriously considering the possibility of becoming a costume designer. It would give him an In to the theater world and an occupation he could enjoy while auditioning for his own opportunity in front of the footlights.

In the mean time, Kurt had taken a couple of weekend trips to the city and had found an apartment and a part-time job. The area was a little seedier than he had hoped for, but his new roommate seemed like a nice woman, unlikely to go all serial killer in the night if she'd had a bad day.

That was more than he could have said for the original plan of living with Rachel Berry.

His new school was going to be far less expensive than NYADA, and the location meant that rent would cause considerably less of a drain to his budget as well. Kurt's dad had been funneling money into his college fund since the day he was born and he had made some pretty canny investments to pad that sum over the years. There was more than enough money for Kurt to attend school and not starve along the way, but he wanted to at least partially pay his own way.

The job he had found was at a restaurant that featured singing waiters by day and full-company cabaret shows by night. Lacking an impressive resume, Kurt had sent along with his application a DVD featuring edited recordings of himself performing in the dress rehearsals of "Rocky Horror" and "West Side Story" and the PBS production of New Directions Christmas show. He had been called back and asked to do a second, live audition one on of those weekend trips, where he had met the owners in person. Much to his delight, Kurt had been hired on the spot. It didn't even seem to matter that he had never waited a table in his life. He knew how to run a cash register after years spent working for his father, and he had proven that he could perform as both a soloist and ensemble member. The rest, they had assured him, was just a matter of training.

"Artie, come on," Kurt groaned, breaking out of the daydream of his New York future when his weighted arms twinged in protest. Kurt had been following his friend around a huge back yard, stopping every few feet to watch him make framing gestures with his hands and jot down a note in the pad he held in his lap. "Can you figure out the blocking later? This equipment weighs a ton!"

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Artie looked up at him in surprise, blinking as if he had forgotten that Kurt was even there. "Oh, sorry, man! Just put that stuff down over there on the table. We'll get it all set up as soon as the others arrive, then you can finish getting ready." He grinned and rubbed his hands together. "This event is going to be epic!"

He sighed. The event was going to be a pain in the ass. Artie's words had reminded him of exactly how he had gotten involved today.

Artie Abrams had been the man in charge of filming and editing all those production clips that had successfully filled out Kurt's resume. In return for all his hard work, Kurt had agreed to assist the other boy with putting on an 'Alice in Wonderland' party for a pack of third graders. Kurt Hummel would be spending today in the shoes of the Mad Hatter, while Artie filmed the entire show.

The birthday girl's father was some kind of local cable TV magnate and Artie intended to impress him with his "mad directorial skills".

Brittany (Alice), Sugar (the Door-mouse), Joe (the March Hare - the guy did terrific crazy eyes) and Blaine (the White Rabbit) had also agreed to participate, either for fun or because they knew it would not hurt their own college resumes next year.

Kurt still wasn't sure why he was the only one 'lucky' enough to be hauling camera equipment, though.

"You sure the birthday girl won't throw a tantrum when she doesn't get to be Alice?" Kurt asked, rubbing his aching shoulder and trying to coax some feeling back into his right hand as he set the heavy equipment box down. "Most kids would."

Artie shrugged. "No, I asked but apparently she just wants to have tea with the whole Wonderland gang and be Alice's best friend today. She's turning nine today. Who was I to argue?"

A smile tilted Kurt's lips. "I must admit, I wouldn't have minded either at her age. Especially if I got all the presents. How are we doing that, by the way? You said you had an idea?"

The other boy's grin could have lit up a stadium. "It's gonna be wicked. Her parents will bring the gifts out here and each time somebody in costume arrives for tea and birthday cake, they'll present her with one of the gifts from some secret location. Brittany's pinafore pockets, Joe's waistcoat, your hat, and so on. Actually, we can probably stuff three or four things up in that hat," he laughed. "It's huge!"

Unlike the others, who would be dressing when they arrived, Kurt had arrived in his own self-created costume. It was a perfect, artistically threadbare recreation of a Victorian gentleman's ensemble, from the white spats covering his polished black shoes to the high starched collar around his throat. There was a tattered hem here, a missing button there, a kaleidoscope of colors and fabrics that did not quite match each other, and best of all, a hat. It was a deep green velveteen topper that added a least a foot to his height and flared out at the top. He had found it in an antique store and refurbished it with brass buttons and gold braid coiled in artistic patterns all over the fabric.

Kurt smiled, patting his waistcoat pockets, from which a pair of miniature scissors and a fat, decorative pincushion hung. He may not have been overly excited when Artie asked him to do this, but nobody was going to say that he did not give his all to the part. He had even purchased these accessories for the event, knowing the moment he saw them that they would be absolutely perfect. He had spent the last couple of days practicing mentally unbalanced expressions in the mirror, intending to add Artie's footage to his collection of audition materials.

If he had his way, this performance would serve him well in both the acting and costuming areas of his future.

Soon enough, the others arrived and were made up to look their parts. Sugar and Brittany were happily invested in their characters and Kurt knew that the young party-goers would adore them. Brittany had even brought her cat along, explaining that he wanted to play the part of the Cheshire Cat. Sadly, she had not been able to coax a smile out of him all morning.

From what Kurt could see, Tubbington's acting method mostly included testing any food item left in his vicinity. To make sure it wasn't poisoned, or so Brittany claimed.

Blaine had given Joe a ride to the house and once they were in their outfits, Kurt could not help cooing a little over how cute they both looked. Blaine was covered head to toe in a snow-white bunny costume, his nose covered in black makeup with a pair of tiny round spectacles perched upon the bridge. Over the costume, he wore Kurt's gray and black plaid waistcoat and one of his own bright and colorful bow ties, also carrying an antique pocket watch that he told them had belonged to his great grandfather. It no longer ran, but it definitely added flair to his image.

Joe was also in a full costume, this one brown, but his had no hood. Sugar had managed, in some mysterious manner that shouldn't have worked and yet totally did, to twist his long dreadlocks up into a perfect approximation of rabbit ears. One was even flopping forward over his eyes, giving him an appropriately deranged air. Joe himself seemed to be into the fun of the occasion, hiding presents inside his long black frock coat, and keeping his usual laid-back manner intact when their young guests arrived. He barely made a sound until about five minutes into the party, when he randomly screamed and threw a plastic butter dish at Blaine, then settled right back down to sip his tea again.

It scared the crap out of his friends, but the dozen little boys and girls surrounding the long table just giggled and begged him to do it again. And ten minutes later, when nobody was expecting it, he did, firing a cookie at Kurt and nearly knocking his hat off.

The kids were utterly charmed by all five of them.

Throughout the party, Blaine kept fidgeting and shaking his watch, muttering "Oh, dear. . ." at regular intervals and nervously rattling his teacup in its saucer, then asking a random child for the time.

Brittany did not really give a performance. She just acted like her usual self, seriously informing all of the kids that the Cheshire Cat was feeling offended today and preferred to be addressed by his proper name. Since 'Lord Tubbington' fit quite well within the whole Victorian theme, nobody batted an eye. They simply offered the visiting dignitary a cup of milk-diluted tea and a piece of cake, which to Kurt's total lack of surprise, the beast snapped down in about two bites.

Sugar charmed every child around. Her long hair was piled up inside a miniature black-lace-decorated top hat - Kurt recognized it as one of Tina's - and her ears were covered in furry little caps. She pretended to fall asleep on whoever was closest to her, 'waking' every so often to stand up and give a dramatic recitation of some song or poem.

Kurt was another crowd favorite. From the way he periodically produced a gift or trinket from his coat and hat, to the way he drew every child present into nonsensical conversation (three years of friendship with Brittany came in handy sometimes), singing mixes of songs that had nothing whatsoever to do with one another (Thank you, Mr. Shue and your insane love of mash-ups!) and reciting nursery rhymes whenever the mood took him.

Finally, all of the teenagers stood together to sing Happy Birthday to the girl of honor, each producing one final gift from his or her costume as they did so, and then they all retreated as the celebration dissolved into a frenzy of paper and ribbon tearing and the squealing of 3rd graders.

"That was epic, yo!" Artie cheered, wheeling forward and offering each of them a joyful fist-bump and a small handful of cash. "Spoils of the day, my friends. We should totally start our own party business. Imagine how much green we' could rake in before summer ends!"

Whipping a large paisley handkerchief from his coat, Kurt dabbed his sweating face. "Not me, thank you. This was fun, but frock coats and ninety degree heat do not mix. Get me to some air conditioning, stat!"

The others agreed eagerly. The parents had set up large circulating fans all around the area to keep everyone as cool as they could but these costumes still left the performers less than comfortable. They waved and called goodbye to the party-goers, many of whom rushed over for goodbye hugs, and Brittany collected her cat, who protested noisily over being made to leave his 3rd slice of birthday cake

"Man, I never thought I'd actually long for a Slushie facial, but bring it on," Blaine groaned, fanning his face with both hands and removing his hood as they entered the house and headed into the two guest rooms where their clothing was laid out.

Kurt nodded agreement, taking off his hat, coat and vest with relief. He had worn his outfit over so he could not, unfortunately, change into cool clothes until he got home, but just losing a couple of layers helped immensely. Still, it had been fun and it would be worth it when he added this performance to his video resume.

Suddenly, Kurt was distracted by a trickle of sweat trekking slowly down Blaine's cheek and neck, disappearing under the low collar of the tank top he had been wearing beneath his costume. Leaning closer so that Joe, who was grumbling as he attempted to find all the wires Sugar had threaded through his hair, would not overhear him, Kurt asked Blaine, "Want to come back to my house and find if I have any more presents hidden under my costume?"

"Is everyone out today?" he asked, eyes lighting up.

He was a rather comical sight with the black bunny nose and glasses, but Kurt did not hesitate to swoop in for a quick kiss. Opportunities like this were precious with only a couple of weeks of daily togetherness left.

"Yes, they are. We should have the place to ourselves for at least two hours." Flicking Blaine's pocket watch, now dangling rather suggestively at the front of his waist, Kurt grinned. "I believe you and I have a very important date that we don't want to be late for."

He laughed, fluttering his long lashes teasingly. "Surely you aren't implying that you'd like to go down the rabbit hole. Sounds a little crazy."

Kurt nipped his earlobe and murmured,"Of course it is, my dear. Fortunately, as it happens, I am completely and totally mad . . . for you."

"Yo!" Artie called out suddenly, wheeling into the room and causing them to remember where they were and that there was an audience present. "Kurt, I'm all packed up. Can you help me load my equipment back into the car? We got to get started editing this puppy so all y'all can have a copy."

Kurt groaned, partly because of the interruption and partly over the idea of lugging that heavy camera and box back into Artie's van. Mr. Abrams had had the vehicle automated last year when Artie turned 16 so that he could operate it on his own, and stow his wheelchair without help, but he still required assistance when it came to transporting heavy materials.

"I rode in with him," he sighed, meeting Blaine's equally disappointed gaze. "I better get to it. It'll take a while to get everything loaded back inside his house."

"Yeah," Blaine agreed reluctantly, "and I need to get Joe back to his place."

Joe's eyes tracked back and forth from one to the other, a thoughtful expression on his face. The dreadlocked boy smiled. "Or, I can help Artie with his equipment in exchange for a ride home, and you can ride back with Blaine." They looked at him in surprise and he shrugged one well-muscled shoulder. "Seems only fair after Kurt put these costumes together and carried everything in. I don't mind."

Kurt was touched. Ever since the day he had decided that his religious beliefs should not force him to condemn other people for who they loved, Joe had subtly become one of Kurt and Blaine's biggest supporters. "Thanks, Joe," he said sincerely, shaking the boy's offered hand.

"It's cool. You gotta make the most of the time you have. I get it."

Artie finally seemed to catch up, a surprised look stealing over his features. "Oh, hey, absolutely! I'll email you the MP3 when its finished."

Blaine, not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, grinned at them both and grabbed Kurt's arm. Without another word, he took off toward the front door at a determined pace, his laughing boyfriend stumbling along behind him and carefully snatching up discarded costume pieces along the way.

After all, just because there were no plans for clothing in his immediate future was no reason to treat these with disrespect.

As today's events had proved, one just never knew when the right ensemble might come in handy.

THE END

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