The house was empty when Hiram, LeRoy, and Blaine arrived with a car full of bags from The Gap. "Sweetie, did you double check the delivery time?" LeRoy asked Hiram as they exited the car. Blaine opened his own door and climbed out of the backseat, his ears suddenly perked at the change in conversation.

"Of course, Sweetpea," he said, though not without a bit of tension in his voice. "Blaine," he said, turning his attention on the teen. Blaine, who'd begun to make his way around the car to the back where LeRoy had already started to grab bags, stopped and looked up, his brow arching questioningly. "I've got some things to do around the house this afternoon, and LeRoy and I thought it would be nice for you to spend some time together, you know – ride around Lima, get to know the place," he told the teenager with a smile. Blaine's heartbeat quickened and his eyes widened slightly. He turned his head to look at LeRoy, who was smiling gently, too.

It wasn't that he didn't want to drive around Lima – but after two hours of shopping he was kind of tired, and more than that, Blaine didn't like when people sprung things on him like this. It made him suspicious of their motives. It wasn't that the Berrys had given him any reason not to trust them yet, but Blaine had been burned enough to want to keep his hand away from the flame.

He faltered, unsure of what to say, and considered turning them down just to see how adamantly they insisted. He didn't have a chance, though, because LeRoy offered him an out before he could even speak. "Of course, if you're tired," he told Blaine gently, "we don't have to go. Or we could just stop for some burgers and shakes instead."

Blaine relaxed a little, but not completely. He glanced over at Hiram, then back at LeRoy. Feeling awkward and unsure of what to do with his hands, he buried them in the front pocket of his hoodie. Then, Blaine shrugged. "Yeah, sure," he murmured, acquiescing. The Berrys' smiles widened.

"Great," replied LeRoy, genuinely pleased by Blaine's response. "Do you want to freshen up or anything? Don't worry about the bags, Hiram and I have got them." He resumed sliding the Gap bags onto his arms. Hiram had already moved around the car and sidled up beside his husband to start collecting the bags LeRoy couldn't carry. Hiram started whistling something Blaine didn't recognize, and even though he didn't really think he needed to, the teenager took the opportunity to go inside and splash some water on his face.

"That. Was. Epic!" Sam hollered, grinning, as he slapped Mike a high five.

Beaming, Mike replied in kind, "That's what I'm talkin' about."

Kurt – or Riff Raff, rather – noticed the exchange as he pulled a smoking hot Mercedes into a side-hug. Boys, he thought, but at the same time that he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he felt a slight longing. He was happy, sure. Their performance really had been epic, and Kurt was grinning for it. But sometimes Kurt wished his instinct was to grunt and bump a fist instead of squeal and hug his best girl in his excitement. There was a reason the guys didn't want him around, and as much as he was proud of who he was, and didn't really like the way the other guys interacted with one another, Kurt understood that he would always be the "Lady" of the group, and sometimes all he wanted was to fit in and be liked, to be recognized for what he was instead of marginalized because of it.

After slipping away from Mercedes and giving Rachel a quick hug, Kurt continued on past the glee guys and straight for the dressing area right behind the stage. It was empty except for him, and as he headed for the mirror he'd claimed as his, where both his makeup and his skin care products were waiting for him, the teen locked eyes with his own reflection. With a soft resigned sigh, his smile began to fade and the adrenaline high he always got from performing started to dissipate. He reached up a hand and pulled the wig off his head. Then, from the small drawer in the vanity, Kurt retrieved a moist towellette to wipe his makeup off.

He pulled out the vanity chair and sat, then started with the makeup on his forehead. He's mad it halfway down his left cheek when he heard his name. "Hey Kurt!"

The countertenor looked up, surprised, to see a set of perfect abs, and above them, a smiling blond head. Sam started to make his way over. "I was looking for you," he said in a normal voice, still smiling. "We're all getting ready to head to Breadstix. You coming?" He looked so excited and genuinely eager. Kurt only then realized how shellshocked he must look and consciously relaxed his eyelids so his eyes were no longer wide. He forced himself to focus on Sam's face because God, those abs…

"Oh," he choked out, "right." He forced a light laugh and smiled, "Actually, I really need to get this make-up off, so…" For a second Sam's brows furrowed as he tried to make out Kurt's meaning, but he puzzled it out within seconds.

"Oh, yeah, ok, sure! So you're going to meet us there," he responded, nodding.

Or not.

Kurt didn't want to kill Sam's enthusiasm. He honestly hadn't planned to go to Breadstix, or anywhere tonight. But then, he honestly hadn't expected anyone to actually care if he was there or not. "Um, right, exactly," he found himself agreeing. The way Sam's smile widened made Kurt's heart do a tiny sommersault. And it was

Just then, though, a figure appeared a few yards behind Sam. It had on an absurdly wide skirt, and there was only one Magenta that would have any reason to come and look backstage.

Kurt glanced at the shadowy figure to Sam's right, just as a familiar, nasally voice called out, "Sam! Come on – everyone's waiting."

Sam whipped around to look at Quinn, standing there in her full costume, both hands on her hips. "Oh! right, sure, be right there," he responded, turning back to Kurt. "So I'll see you there, then. Later, Kurt," Sam said with a friendly pat on the brunet's arm. Kurt was struck, first by the physical contact and then, by the physical proximity of the abs he'd once again noticed, and then, because Sam wasted no time in turning away and jogging over to Quinn, his perfectly round ass in those gold shorts which, although more modest than the original costume design, were about as form-fitting as one could get.

He snapped out of it though, when he realized Quinn was still standing there, her hands on her hips, glaring at him. Crap, he thought, his eyes widening and his cheeks flushing, even as Quinn turned and stormed away in the direction of the exit. Kurt turned back to the mirror, half-used moist towellette still in hand. He looked into his reflection's eyes and thought maybe, it really would be better if he just went home for Halloween and watched Carrie for the fifteenth time like he'd originally planned.

Blaine abandoned the straw and tipped his glass up to get at the last bits of milkshake in the glass. He'd already wolfed down a double cheeseburger, an order of large fries, and a few extra fries that LeRoy insisted he wasn't going to eat.

"Ready for dessert?" LeRoy joked, a crooked smile on his lips. Blaine lowered the glass and looked across the diner table, eyes slightly wide as he felt suddenly embarrassed by how much he'd eaten. "I'm kidding with you – but seriously if you want dessert – they make an apple crumble here that is absolutely to die for," the older man raved, leaning slightly forward, his eyes rolling, and his voice lowering slightly as if he were sharing a little known secret.

Blaine smiled tentatively, fighting the urge to look around him to see if anyone noticed the little show of flamboyance. "Uh, no. No, it's cool," he responded quietly. In fact, as much as he enjoyed finishing every last bit of the chocolate milkshake he was starting to feel uncomfortably full. The waitress stopped by to check on them and LeRoy asked for the bill with a friendly smile. He reached for his wallet, and Blaine suddenly felt guilty again.

"You don't have to do this, you know – pay for everything. I can get a job. I had a job – back… I can get another one," he told the older man. LeRoy just looked at him surprised.

"Nonsense. We do the same for Rachel. I mean – I'm not saying, Blaine, that you can't have a job. We can discuss it, you, Hiram, and I, if that's what you want, but buying things like food and clothes and backpacks – that's our job," he told the boy with a smile and a few hand gestures to emphasize the point. "Hiram and I are happy to do it." LeRoy slipped his credit card into the billfold without even looking at the bill and handed it right back to the waitress with a polite thank you, and Blaine, unsure of what to even think, just watched him, his brows furrowed slightly as he tried to understand that. He wanted to ask him 'why,' certain there had to be a catch somewhere, but now, in public, was not the time to do that… Not that Blaine believed the man would ever fess up to there being a catch to begin with.

LeRoy, who was wiping his hands on a napkin, just continued on into the next conversation. "Now, if you're up for it, I think it will be a good idea to drive around the neighborhood a bit. You'll be starting school soon and I wouldn't want you accidentally getting lost. Hiram or I can take you in the mornings, but we'll both be going back to work next week so you'll need to walk home or take the bus. Rachel usually walks – its close enough – or gets a ride with someone in Glee. You can wait for her and walk together, I'm sure, if you'd rather not be home alone."

Blaine's mind felt like it had short-circuited somewhere. He hadn't considered that Hiram and LeRoy would be at work, that he wouldn't actually be under 24 hour watch. He could skip school and run away to Columbus as early as Monday if he wanted to, hitchhike there if he had to. Surely LeRoy was simply trying to set him up, but his smile seemed so genuine, Blaine wasn't really sure of it. It seemed so foreign – any adult being nice to him. He was used to sneers or suspicion, and Hiram and LeRoy were nothing but smiles and patience. It was uncomfortable and hard to simply accept, but try as he might, he couldn't find a single flaw in LeRoy's delivery, or any hint at all that the offers and suggestions were less than genuine.

Except…

"Does that mean I get my own key?" he asked. Did they really trust him to come and go as he pleased? LeRoy accepted the receipt from the waitress with a polite 'thank you' and glanced back over at Blaine.

"Of course," LeRoy responded easily with a smile as he affixed his loopy signature on the receipt. "Hiram and I keep meaning to get another set of keys made but with everything going on this week," he explained, shaking his head in mild exasperation, neither of us has had the chance. There's a Walmart by the high school though," he suggested cheerily as he closed the bill fold again and started to slide his way out of the both. "We can stop there after I show you McKinley if you're not too beaten up."

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed further and he winced involuntarily at the phrase. LeRoy, who'd already turned away from Blaine, hadn't seen it or noticed either the wince or the anxious energy that suddenly surrounded the teen, who crossed his arms over his chest and stalked wordlessly after LeRoy, his suspicious gaze passing over the other patrons around him as he walked.

Blaine kept his arms crossed tightly over his chest even after he buckled into the front seat of the Prius, and had to struggle hard to focus on anything LeRoy was pointing out. He acknowledged the other man only in monosyllabic grunts and hums, but even LeRoy seemed to tell that something was distracting him.

"Is everything OK, Blaine?" The teen, who'd been watching a woman sitting and reading at the busstop bench outside his window while they waited at the red light, turned to look at the driver, surprised. If he'd expected anything, it would have been annoyance, but all he saw there was concern. His cheeks flushed slightly and he looked away. "Yeah, fine," he said, shaking his head and refocusing out the window, but for some reason the fact that LeRoy had asked brought him back to the present, if even just a little.

LeRoy accepted his answer, and after another few minutes of silence, LeRoy broke it. "Up here's McKinley High," he told Blaine. Blaine snapped out of his trance and raised his eyes, suddenly interested. Only a small amount of apprehension still tugged at the base of his spine. The parking lot was almost completely empty. There was a strange antique-looking thing in cherry red and a black SUV a little farther away. As they pulled into the lot, LeRoy pointed out the football field, the gym. "That's the auditorium there," he said. Blaine perked up slightly. He read the sign on the side of the building and wondered briefly who April Rhodes was before deciding it didn't really matter.

He actually felt relief upon seeing McKinley High. It wasn't much, but it didn't seem to look anything like his last high school, or the high school he'd attended before that. He hadn't even realized how worried he'd been that he'd be going back to a place like Lincoln – or that even reminded him of Lincoln. Though the fact that he was in Lima didn't give him much hope about the tolerance level, he felt at least a mild bit of hope that this place might be as different from his old schools inside as it was outside.

LeRoy mentioned a courtyard they couldn't see from the parking lot before turning around and heading out of the lot again, but Blaine didn't need to see any more. This was enough. It was more than enough for him, for now.