Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

Kurt balked right before the automatic doors could swing open. "Can't we at least talk about this?" he wheedled.

"Kurt, we have talked about this," Burt said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to camp all summer long, and we agreed no designer clothes. I am not watching you wear all that fancy stuff just to ruin."

"But I don't wear clothes from Target," Kurt whined. "It's so…so plebian."

"I don't know what that means exactly, but dude, you've got to stop blocking the doors," Finn said, rolling up his sleeves and wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "If you're not going to move on your own, I'll do it for you. Come on."

"Or we can put you in the cart," Carole suggested, her eyes dancing. "We can push you around the store."

"No!" Kurt shrieked, kicking at Finn. "Put me down!"

Finn lugged Kurt into the store and deposited him on his feet, with Burt and Carole blocking his means of escape. "Maybe we should put him on one of those little kid leashes," Finn teased.

"Nah, we tried that once when he was two. He knew it was humiliating and refused to move till we took it off him," Burt said. He adjusted his baseball cap. "All right, Carole. What's the game plan?"

"I took the packing list the camp suggested and tweaked it a little," she said, pulling her reading glasses and a small notebook out of her purse. "It shouldn't be too hard to get everything, but the real question is…who's going to take Kurt clothes shopping?"

"Not it, not it!" Finn said quickly, raising his hands and backing away.

Burt sighed. "I guess it's up to me," he said.

Carole smiled. "Ah, I see I'm the only one who thought of this in advance," she said. She glanced over her shoulder. "There we go. Right on schedule."

Kurt broke into a smile. "Blaine!" he exclaimed.

Blaine waved, flanked by his mother on one side and his sister on the other. "Carole had to call for reinforcements," he grinned.

"It's so nice to see you again," Blaine's mother said, reaching to hug Carole. Petite, blonde, and chirrupy, Anna Anderson still retained her Louisiana accent despite living in Ohio for the past twenty years. Both of her children took more after their father, but there was still a resemblance in the delicacy of Francey's features and Blaine's golden hazel eyes. "Is this the first year y'all have gone shopping for camp?"

"Mom, I told you like twelve times, this is Kurt's first year at Pinnacle," Francey said, rolling her eyes. "Don't mind her. She's blonde."

"Be nice, Baby," Anna said mildly. She leaned over to kiss Kurt on the cheek. "How're you doing, honey lamb?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Kurt said, kissing her back. "A little overwhelmed, but fine."

"Don't worry, I've got this camp shopping thing under control," Blaine grinned, sliding an arm around Kurt's waist.

"Yeah, well, you've been shopping with him before, you know how he is," Burt said. "Good luck. You're going to need it."

"Here's a list to remind you of what to look for," Carole said, tearing out a sheet of notebook paper and handing it to Kurt. "And you know what your budget is, right?"

"I've got it," Kurt said.

Anna patted Blaine's cheek. "I'll be with your sister, precious darling," she said. "Call me if you need us or you get lost, all right?"

"I'll be fine, Mama," he said. "Have fun shopping with Francey."

"Oh, come on, I'm a delight," Francey scoffed.

"Wait, are you going to camp too?" Finn said, frowning. "But…you're old, right?"

"I am a sophomore in college," she corrected. "And I'm not a camper. I'm a junior counselor."

"And she won't tell me what cabin she's in," Blaine said, elbowing her.

"I told you,, it's going to be a surprise," Francey said, shoving him back.

"Baby, Babbie, stop it," Anna scolded, physically separating them with surprising ease. "You two boys go on ahead."

"We'll see you in a bit," Blaine said, taking Kurt by the hand.

Kurt grinned. "So your sister's going to be at camp with you all summer?" he teased.

"Yeah," Blaine said. "I hope to God she's not in my cabin." He tugged on Kurt's hand. "Come on. Let's get you dressed for camp."

"I don't see why everyone's insisting that I get new clothes for camp," Kurt complained. "My wardrobe is fantastic."

"Yes, it is, but it's all expensive designer stuff," Blaine reminded him gently. "You don't want to take that to camp."

"Why not?" Kurt grumbled, flicking angrily through a rack of plaid button up shirts.

"Because camp is outside, for the most part," Blaine said. "There is mud, and grass, and creek water, and insects, and it's hot. Now, just imagine…you're at camp, and you're wearing your white skinnies with your Doc Martens and your Marc Jacobs jacket."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Oh my god," he said. "I never thought I'd say this, but….Blaine, dress me."

Blaine laughed. "Let's start with shorts. You're going to need them," he said, tugging Kurt towards a rack festooned with a myriad of cargo shorts, all in various shades of khaki.

"But…but I can wear boots with them, right?" Kurt said.

"Don't worry, babe, we'll get into the wonderful world of sneakers in a minute," Blaine grinned. Kurt gulped audibly. He picked a pair of shorts off the rack and held them up to Kurt's waist. "Hm, that looks about your size. God, why are you so tiny?"

Kurt stared down at the shorts. "Why are there so many pockets on these things?" he asked.

"They're useful for holding things," Blaine said dryly, draping the shorts over his arm. "Okay, so you have to try these on. What do you think of denim shorts?"

"No," Kurt said flatly. "No. I would rather die before I put on a pair of jorts."

"Jorts?"

"Jean shorts."

Blaine laughed. "All right, jorts are out," he said. "What about these plaid ones?"

Kurt scrutinized them carefully. "They could be worse," he said. "But I'm not going to even consider the orange ones."

"Fair enough," Blaine said, picking up a pair of blue and brown plaid shorts. "Do you see anything else you like?"

Kurt sighed. "It's not a question of liking, Blaine," he said. "It's a question of what will be less painful to wear."

Blaine leaned over and kissed Kurt lightly on the cheek. "It won't be that bad," he reassured him. "Besides, a lot of the time you'll be in your cabin shirt like everyone else."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "My what?"

"See, everyone is put into a different cabin based on what they're studying," Blaine said, rifling through a rack of clothes. "And each cabin has their own color. We do a lot of individual study with our cabins in the mornings, so everyone wears their camp shirts. But you can change into whatever you want for free time."

"Wait, what's my color?" Kurt asked.

"I'm pretty sure it's purple, if I remember correctly," Blaine said.

Kurt relaxed. "Oh good," he said. "I look good in purple."

"That you do," Blaine grinned. They paused behind a rack of jeans to steal a kiss, lingering just a little as they hid from prying eyes. Blaine pulled back a little with a goofy smile playing on his lips, his hand still resting on Kurt's hip. "What should we look at next?"

Kurt smirked. "Well, I do need swim trunks, don't I?" he said.

Blaine coughed. "Uh…well…all right, then," he said.

Kurt breezed over to the rack and started flipping through them. "Oh…these are all so long," he said mournfully. "I like my swim trunks short…"

"All right, now you're just teasing me on purpose," Blaine said, swatting playfully at Kurt's butt. "Don't be mean."

"Seriously, though," Kurt said, holding up a pair and surveying it critically. "I think I might have to break out my sewing machine for some of these."

"You do whatever you'd like with them," Blaine said. "I'd rather you customized a lot of inexpensive Target things than take your nice designer things to camp and have them get ruined."

"You're very thoughtful," Kurt said, squeezing Blaine's fingertips. "What do you think of these?"

"I like them," Blaine said. He paused. "This wasn't a test, was it? You weren't holding up something ugly to see if I would notice?"

"No, I really do like these," Kurt smiled, tucking them under his arm. "You know, for common folk clothing. Should I go start trying things on?"

"I think that's an excellent plan," Blaine said. "Here, I'll stand outside the dressing room and wait. You can show me everything."

"Mm, that sounds naughty," Kurt teased. He took the clothes from Blaine's arms and flounced towards the dressing rooms.

"That's…that's not fair," Blaine protested.

Kurt disappeared into the dressing room while Blaine loitered near the doors. "Blaine?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I'm not coming out."

Blaine hid a smile. "Why not?" he asked.

"I look terrible."

"I'm sure you look fine."

"I look like a middle schooler."

"Just come out."

The door swung open and Kurt peeked out reluctantly. He wore a pair of khaki cargo shorts with his designer top, the waistband drooping around his hips. "I told you I look terrible," he said. "My body was not meant for this."

"Actually, you look…you look pretty adorable," Blaine admitted.

Kurt's ears turned pink. "Adorable, in mass-produced shorts with enough pockets for twelve people?" he said.

"Uh-huh," Blaine said.

Kurt tugged on the belt loops. "Well, maybe I can get these…" he said.

"I think you should," Blaine offered. "Now…go try on those swim trunks?"

Kurt smirked. "Yes, dear," he said, skipping back into his dressing room.

By the time they finished, Kurt had amassed several pairs of shorts, some tee shirts (mostly chosen by Blaine), a pair of swim trunks, and a new pair of sneakers that, while they didn't even come close to Kurt's usual standards in footwear, were deemed wearable for camp.

"I think this is good," Blaine said, draping the tee shirts over his arm.

Kurt sighed. "I can't believe I have to wear these things," he said. "Can't I bring anything nice?"

"Well, Sundays are free days, so I suppose you can wear something a little more exciting then," Blaine grinned. "Besides, we do have a few dress up events."

Kurt perked. "Dress up?"

"Oh, yeah," Blaine said. "Like the luau. And the hoedown. Oh! I forgot about the hoedown."

Kurt blanched. "A…a hoedown?" he repeated. "And I'm supposed to dress up for it?"

"Oh, it's fun," Blaine said. "You know. Plaid shirts and overalls and stuff. And the luau's great too. Last year I had this crazy Hawaiian shirt, it had all these hula girls on it and-"

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt said slowly, his eyebrows drawing down. "It is bad enough that I'm forced to wear things of this nature all summer." He shook his handful of hangers for emphasis. "But if you're going to make me wear oversized tacky tourist shirts or anything with a John Deere logo, you are sorely mistaken, sir."

"Fine, fine," Blaine said, squeezing his arm around Kurt's waist. "But you'll at least dress up a little bit? Just so I don't look stupid?" He squeezed his arm a little tighter. "Because you do realize that I'm going to ask you to be my date for all of these events."

Kurt smiled. "Oh, I'm sure I can come up with some kind of compromise," he said loftily.

They rounded the corner and nearly walked into their respective families. Finn was staring at a tube of toothpaste. "I don't remember if he likes peppermint or spearmint," he said. He held the box high above his head. "Kurt, do you like peppermint or spearmint?"

"Peppermint," he said, dumping his clothing choices in the shopping cart. "Spearmint is disgusting."

"Ha! Called it!" Finn said, tossing the box in after the clothes.

"How did the shopping go, blue eyes?" Carole asked.

"Oh, it was fine," Kurt said. "I'm not used to shopping at a big box store, but we made do."

"I think we found everything he needed, and we stayed under the budget," Blaine said.

Burt clapped a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Son, you need to stick around," he said. "This is the first time somebody took Kurt shopping and it didn't end in tears, a shouting match, or blood."

"That was only one time, Dad!" Kurt exclaimed.

Francey stuck her head out of a nearby aisle. "Ugh, I'm never going shopping with him," she said. "Hey, Blaine, catch."

A box of tampons soared through the air and smacked Blaine in the face. "Oh, jeez, seriously, Frances?" he said, tossing them back. "Grow up."

"Babbie's allergic to lady parts," Francey snickered.

Anna frowned. "Frances Meghan, don't tease your brother," she scolded. She unfolded her list and scanned. "Carole, honey, I don't know about you, but I think I'm almost done."

"It looks like we're good," Carole said.

"Thank God, let's go home," Burt said.

Suddenly a familiar, frantic, high-pitched voice spiraled upwards from further down the aisle. "Daddy, no, I need it, I need it!"

"Oh my god, Hurricane Berry approaches," Kurt said. Finn paled and stepped behind Carole; she reached up and patted his cheek.

Rachel barreled down the aisle, both of her fathers at her heels. "No, I told you, I'm out of gold star stickers," she said. "I need more."

"Rae Rae, baby, you have boxes of star stickers at home," her ginger-haired father said with a weary sigh.

"No, she's right, Hiram," Rachel's other father said. "She could use a new pack for camp."

Rachel was so intent on her quest that she nearly barreled into Blaine, stopping short just in time. "Oh! Blaine Warbler!" she exclaimed.

Francey snickered. "Blaine Warbler…"

"Hi, Rachel," Blaine said, pointedly ignoring his sister. "Shopping for camp."

"Buying out the store for camp is more like it," Kurt said, eying her overflowing shopping cart.

"I want to make the most of this summer," she said. "I need to be prepared." She paused and turned to the others. "Hi, Kurt. Hi, Finn. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel. Hello…"

"Oh, you can call me Mrs. Warbler if you want, it's awful cute," Anna chirped. "I'm Blaine's mama, sugar doll."

"Nice to meet you," Rachel said. "These are my dads, Hiram and Leroy. Daddy, Papa, this is-"

"We've gathered, baby girl," Hiram interrupted gently.

Leroy snapped his fingers. "Blaine Warbler! Rae Rae, is this the vaguely Eurasian boy you tried to seduce?" he said.

"Papa, now is not the time!" Rachel hissed as Blaine turned bright red. She turned back to the group. "Well, I'll…leave you to your shopping." Her smile suddenly brightened to distinctly hopeful. "So I'll see you at camp, Finn?"

"Uh…yeah," Finn stammered.

The hope in Rachel's smile migrated into megawatt joy. "Then I will see you there," she said. "This will be the best summer ever!"

Burt watched her skip towards the marker aisle, her fathers dutifully in tow. "That girl has more mood swings than should be physically possible," he said.

Francey grinned fiendishly. "God, I hope that girl's in my cabin," she said. "I would love to just mess with that mind of hers…"

Blaine turned on her. "Francey, how on earth did you possibly get a job at this camp?" he said.

She shrugged. "Charm and charisma, I suppose."

Author's Notes:

A shorter, slightly slow chapter, but necessary for the build-up to camp. Besides, don't lie...Kurt and Blaine shopping together at Target is an adorable mental image.

I hope you guys are still interested in this story! I'm trying to write as far ahead as I can, and the next chapter is going to be FUN. The next part will post on next Saturday, and that's when our illustrious crew will arrive at Pinnacle Heights! Will Karofsky be there? Whose cabin will Francey be in? How is everyone getting to camp?

And for the angry people, especially for the charming young lady who left a delightfully nasty review: of course this is entirely improbable. An exclusive performing arts camp that's audition only? And somehow everyone from New Directions gets in? And Karofsky is accepted? Of course it's improbable! That's what makes it fun!

And yeah, I know how entirely realistic and grounded the Glee episodes are, and I...WAIT LOL NOPE. GLEE IS SO NOT REALISTIC.

I have no delusions of grandeur, my dears. I'm just an average nerdy Glee fan like everyone else, whiling away the hiatus by writing a super fun summer camp story that'll stretch from now till August. Now, what's the problem with that?

Anyways, darling people, I hope you're having fun. Drop a line in my tumblr ask box if you want to chat!