AN: Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and/or happy holiday. I managed to finish this section before Christmas Eve, and I'm making extremely good progress on the next part, so I think I may be able to keep to the schedule for now. We'll see. Hope y'all enjoy...

"They're finally getting together? God, it's about time!"

The discussion stopped Kurt dead in his tracks, his foot still in the air, his hand still brushing the handle of the ajar music room door. He didn't quite recognize the voices inside, but knew that at this hour it had to be fellow Warblers. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have even bothered to pause, but something about this...

"Yeah, I... believe they lasted this... without..." The other voice was much quieter, resulting in gaps as background noise, or even the hum of the central air system, drowned it out. "Dav... been pining... weeks now!"

"Geez, tell me about it. But at least he's going big with this. Whose idea was the whole serenade surprise, anyway?"

"Dunno, but... Dav... said it... We're going... in two days."

"Well, at least it's something we've already rehearsed. Hey, do you think he'll..."

"Kurt?" The addressed teen spun around as smooth as a ballerina. Dave stood behind him with crossed arms and an amused look. "What are you doing?"

"Ummm..." The friendship between the two had thawed considerably since the championship game; Dave even came to Kurt's room one night not long after to apologize for "being such a dickwad," an apology quickly and warmly accepted. Still, Kurt couldn't help but feel a vague unease coming from his friend, an unease that translated into an equally vague tension in almost every aspect of their interactions. Like their conversations - still friendly, but with much less of the casual, easy feel that they used to. Like the way Dave was staring right now. What was he waiting for? Oh, right, an answer to his question. "Nothing."

"Oh, good. Because it looked like you were listening in on someone else's conversation like a creeper."

Kurt flushed. "Not at all." He pushed open the door; of course, the conversation stopped cold the instant he did so, if only so the Warblers talking could greet him and Dave as they walked in. Soon enough, they were deep in Regionals rehearsing, which was too bad, because Kurt really wanted to hear the rest of that discussion.

Not that he was assuming that it was about Dave, of course, not with another prominent "David" in the same group. And he had heard some discussion about the other David and his crush on a girl whose sister attended Crawford. Still, the very concept, the very idea, that it could refer to his Dave ("his"? Did he really just think that?) was a fascinating one. Especially fascinating was his own reactions to the possibility: intense curiosity, nervousness... hope?

His mind replayed the short discussion he had with his father at the dinner table the night before Finn's championship game. So far, he had put off a talk of that nature with Dave, partly because of the run-up to Regionals (yes, that was a fine excuse as far as he was concerned), but partly because... As he'd said to his father, it was complicated. Mostly because, well, he wasn't exactly sure what he'd say to Dave. How could he, when he was still mired in confusion over this whole friendship/admiration/maybe-kinda-sorta-love mix that felt like it shifted significantly each time he and Dave laid eyes on each other?

Still... maybe just saying it to Dave would help solidify things. It seemed that their friendship had been built and strengthened long enough to avoid awkwardness. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe...

"Next order of business!" Wes announced, slamming down his gavel. Kurt jumped a little in his seat; Wes did love using that thing a little too much. Then he realized, much to his surprise, that the council had started, and the agenda under way, all without his noticing. "We have a request for an off-campus performance." The room erupted in murmurs; such a thing hadn't been done by the Warblers in almost a hundred years! And this was requested by one of their own, no less! "The council has discussed this in depth, and we have decided that it will be granted." Wes began to turn. "Senior Warbler Dave..." Kurt found himself holding his breath for some reason. "...id Thompson?"

Kurt's heart sank. He knew that the chances weren't good (he still figured he knew Dave well enough that he'd have had some warning beforehand), but he was still disappointed. As David gave his thanks to the rest of the council and started describing what he had in mind, Kurt glanced over at Dave. To his surprise, the other boy was already giving him a rather odd, anticipatory look, one that dissolved into surprise, then quickly suppressed, once their eyes met. Ah, Kurt thought. Karofsky expression number 19: I have something to say, but I'll wait with barely contained impatience until the meeting is over. The hope, wild and hot, flared up once more.

The rest of the Warblers' business crawled; Kurt kept glancing at the clock, and a couple of times he could swear the hands had moved backward. Soon enough, Wes rapped his gavel to adjourn the meeting, and as expected, Dave immediately turned to Kurt, putting an arresting hand on his forearm. "Hey, you're helping out David with the serenade, aren't you?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I kind of remember what you said about Valentine's Day and all…"

"Oh, don't be silly, Dave. Just because I despise it and practically everything it stands for and has become doesn't mean I'm completely heartless. I'm doing it to help a friend."

Dave smiled. "Good, because I've got a surprise for you for after it's over."

Kurt's eyes twinkled. "Well, it's not a surprise anymore, is it?"

"It… I… Oh, come on, Kurt, of course it is. You'll just have to find out. I think you'll really like it."

Kurt nodded, not able to keep the smile off his face, the hope out of his heart. "I know I will."

I'm a fucking saint, Blaine Anderson thought. Why? He was trying, really trying, to at least look interested in what his "girlfriend" was talking about, especially considering it was about some sort of Glee Club drama that had taken place earlier in the day. Of course, it was easy for him; dozens of dates and almost as many girlfriends had allowed him to perfect the "smile, nod, and say 'uh huh' occasionally" routine. But with Santana, of course, one could never be sure. She had probably invented some of the techniques he was using. On the other hand, was she in any state to even notice fakery? Blaine was hoping not.

"... so I decided, they wanna screw with me? I'll screw with them, and fuck the..."

He wondered what would happen if he tried to interrupt at this point. Either she'd ignore him or slap him upside the head, most likely. He nodded and sipped at his coffee. "Uh huh."

"... went to the nurse's office, of course. Wes Fahey was..."

Blaine's mind wandered. Let's see, gotta call the tailor... Oh, and order the laptop, of course. Do I need any software? I'll have to ask Santana once she gets off her high horse. Maybe I should…?

"...kissed him." The blunt statement, though it barely reached his mind through his bored haze, snapped Blaine back to attention. "So once he kisses Quinn, and they both start getting sick, they'll..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Blaine interrupted. "You infected Hudson and Quinn?"

Santana sighed. "Yes, I said that. I knew you weren't listening." She grinned a little as Blaine scooted his chair back. "Oh, don't worry, I'm pretty much immune to mono. Anyway, I can't wait to watch what happens. Especially Quinn. God knows she needs it, with her shoving her 'single and loving it' status in our faces..."

"That's not what I meant! I thought we were gonna tell them about... you know..." Blaine rubbed his forehead. "You said we needed them. Why piss them off now?"

"Oh, stop worrying. We'll wait until Finn and Quinn are better. They'll never know I did it on purpose anyway." She leaned forward and stroked Blaine's cheek; he was amazed at how such an intimate gesture (deliberately played up to attract the attention of the Lima Bean patrons around them) could feel so... empty to him - empty of desire, heat. It had implications that Blaine tried very hard not to think about. "Relax. We've got everything under control."

"Famous last words," Blaine muttered.

"What the hell's up with you lately? You've been acting like an emo kid who just found out he won the lottery."

Blaine ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. It's just… everything, I guess. Things are happening…"

Santana rolled her eyes. "It'd be pretty fucking boring if they didn't."

"You know what I mean. Look at me! A few months ago, my life was perfect. I had everything. Just one stupid k… event, and everything falls apart. And it happened so fast…"

"When you're on top, you have a longer way to fall. Believe me, I know." A foreign note of understanding (of pity?) seemed to worm its way into Santana's face and tone. "Besides, the way I see it, you still got everything. You're a big-ass football hero, you wowed the championship game with your singing, you've got a blazing hot girlfriend, you're richer than 99% of Ohio just by yourself… Don't play the 'poor little rich boy' crap with me. Come on down to Lima Heights Adjacent sometime if you want to see real problems."

"Uh, don't you live in Sterling Hollow, that new development?"

"I used to live in Lima Heights Adjacent, before my dad's practice hit it big. Don't think I've forgotten my roots."

Blaine looked up at the fierce expression on Santana's face. "Don't worry, I won't." He sipped at his coffee, a startling realization coming over him. "But thanks. I think I actually feel a little bit better."

Santana smiled, an expression that skated the dangerous razor's edge of sincerity. "Of course you do. Leave it to Auntie Tana to put everything in perspective. Now. I'm gonna need you and your lovely, beautiful, gorgeous… credit card."

Blaine groaned. "Again? Just because it has a bigger limit than your entire family's net worth doesn't mean it's there at your beck and call to be abused."

"Oh, I know. It's just at my beck and call to be used wisely for official 'get Kurt back and Prom Queen' business."

"All right, all right…" Blaine sighed. "But if I see you glance at the Tiffany's at the mall one more time, I'm out."

"Have it your way. We'll just have to stop at the Victoria's Secret on the way to…" Blaine groaned again.

Kurt shuffled his feet nervously as Dave disappeared into The Gap. The thrice-damned Karofsky had been mum and coy about his big surprise for days, and it was starting to tick Kurt off. Trying to take his mind off the anticipation, he approached David, who looked like he was about to throw up. "Relax," Kurt said, "you'll be great."

David gave a weak smile. "Thanks. I just… God, what was I thinking? Why am I doing this? I couldn't just send her a card or some flowers…"

"But you're not. You're singing - something you love to do, something you do from the heart. Trust me: if I were her, I'd fall at your feet for something like this."

"Thanks, Kurt. I'm just so nervous…"

"Relax. Sing what you feel. You'll do fine." Kurt glanced at the Gap; he could see Dave near the front, talking with a young man with long blonde hair. The conversation seemed to come to a close; the blonde retreated into the bowels of the store while Dave rejoined the other Warblers outside.

"Bad news, guys. The assistant manager won't let us do it inside. He says his boss won't like it. Don't worry, though," he hastened to add, seeing the panicked look on David's face. "He's gonna bring her out here."

David turned even greener. "Places!" he shouted in a hoarse voice. "Places!" Everyone ran into position without an ounce of hesitation. Dave somehow ended up standing right next to Kurt; the former gave the latter a small smile.

"You ready?"

Kurt nodded, trying again not to think of surprises. "Of course."

In moments, the blonde returned to the store front, leading a young woman by the arm. Kurt, even with his homosexual sensibilities, could see that she was attractive: smooth dark skin highlighted her intense eyes, her tightly woven black hair tied up into a knot at the back of her head. She was dressed, in Kurt's expert opinion, far too fashionably to be wasted on a place like The Gap: a simple and flattering black ensemble with a wool sweater and silk scarf, which trailed behind her as the two exited the store. Her eyes widened at the sight that confronted her, her gaze flickering towards David, who stood front and center in front of them all.

"David? What are you… what's this…?"

David swallowed audibly. "Callie…" He paused, his throat rasping. "Look, I don't know how to put it into words, so…" He turned towards the other Warblers and gave a small nod. Immediately, their voices all raised in harmony as David began to sing:

I never needed love… like I need you...
And I never lived for nobody, but I live for you...
Oooh oooh babe… Lost in love is how I feel… when I'm with you…

The blonde man smiled as Callie gasped, her hands covering her mouth. Passers-by slowed their walk, and shoppers inside The Gap actually came outside, staring and listening as David's dulcet voice began to gain strength and confidence.

Baby-ee-yay-ee-yay-yay… Oh, I get chills when I'm with you…
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh…

The crowd was growing. Kurt stole a glance at Dave as they sang the harmonious backup; Dave was watching the whole scene with one of the most glowing smiles he'd ever seen. Kurt was glad that Dave could be so happy for his friend, but there was something else to it… A sort of anticipation of something similar…?

I never cared for nobody… Like I care for you...
And I never wanted to share the things I want to share with you...

Dave's smile was slipping; he was starting to get nervous. He didn't say so, of course, and the change in expression was minuscule, but Kurt knew. Dave was his friend; he knew.

Baby-ee-yay-yay-yay-yay…
My world stands still when I'm with you…
Whoa-oh, whoa-oh…

The song was starting to near its end, and David's eyes were starting to get nervous again. Kurt knew why; David had been fretting about the ending ever since he'd decided on this song over "How Do I Get You Alone." Don't worry. Kurt had no use for the idea of telepathic powers, but he almost wished they were real, if only so he could reassure his fellow Warbler. You can do it. You'll be great.

And indeed, David's face seemed to light up with confidence as he reached the last lines.

The world stands still when I'm with you…
When I'm with yooooooooouuuuuu…

He hit the falsetto notes perfectly, flawlessly, as he kneeled in front of Callie, whose hands were still frozen in front of her mouth, her cheeks streaked with tears. Even before the last notes faded away, the crowd exploded with applause, catcalls, and hollers, with the blonde man joining in just as enthusiastically. David looked up at her in anticipation.

"David… That was… was…" She laughed wetly. "Something." She sniffled, wiping her face dry with a trembling hand. "You could've just sent me a text, you know."

There were rumbles of laughter in the crowd. "I know," David replied quietly. "But… Well, I figure if you're going to ask the most beautiful girl you've ever met to be his Valentine… Might as well go big."

Kurt sniffled; he could see a couple of women in the crowd openly weeping. Another was glaring at the man next to her, obviously silently asking a question he didn't really want to answer.

Callie laughed. "If this… turns into anything, David… Your proposal had better be way better than this."

"Uh oh… I think I'm in trouble then." More laughter. "Does that mean you'll go out with me?"

"Of course I will, you idiot!" The two embraced, and the applause began in earnest, from crowd and Warblers alike.

As they dispersed to give David and Callie a little "alone" time, Kurt suddenly realized that Dave was no longer beside him. He looked around wildly. He finally saw Dave approaching from the parking lot, leading a tall, lean boy about their age. The stranger was dressed to the nines in fashionable labels that Kurt recognized immediately, short brown hair peeking out from under a wool cap. Who…?

"Hey, Kurt! There's someone I want you to meet." Dave was beaming with pride as he gave the stranger a gentle shove forward. "This is Gavroche. His cousin was a friend of mine back at my old middle school."

"Well, hell-o!" The other boy's voice was high-pitched and silky, much like Kurt's own.

"Ah… Hello." The two shook hands. Years ago, before he came out, Kurt remembered overhearing his father discussing handshakes with one of his employees. Burt Hummel had said that he judged people he'd just met by the firmness of their handshake; a limp or wet shake was the sign of someone who couldn't be trusted to have a spine. Of course, he would never have said that in front of his son knowingly, and Kurt knew that it was a stereotyped generalization based on somewhat homophobic (at the very least, sissy-phobic) cultural norms. Still, as he and Gavroche shook hands, he couldn't help but remember that remark; Kurt felt shame go through him. He tried to push it down. "So, uh… Gavroche?"

"That's right! Named after… well, I don't think I need to tell you, do I?" His eyes drank in Kurt's entire length, which he found a somewhat uncomfortable feeling. "'Cause Dave's told me so much about you."

"Has he?"

"Gav's between boyfriends right now," Dave said, clapping his hands on Gavroche's shoulders. "I'm still in touch with his cousin, and he lives not far from here, so I thought you two should meet. You guys have so much in common. Gav here performs a lot in musical theater himself."

"Oh. Do you?" Kurt said politely, but with little more emotion.

"Oh, yes! The stage is just such a thrilling experience, don't you think?" Kurt caught Dave nudging Gavroche in the back; the slimmer boy shot a "bitch, please!" look back at him before turning to Kurt with a smile. "Why don't we get some coffee at the Starbucks over there? Dave's told me all about your Glee Club. Please dish; don't leave a single detail out!"

In that moment, realization hit Kurt like a baseball bat to his face. Oh, God… This is Dave's surprise… He's setting me up with this guy! He glanced at Dave; he could see nothing but pride and hopeful anticipation. Is that… is that how he thinks of me? Is this what he wants? Is… Kurt could feel his stomach doing somersaults. Then his spirit hardened. Fine. If this is what Dave wants, why not? Why not see what happens, try to find some happiness for myself for once?

He gave Gavroche a big smile. "I would love to."

Behind him, Dave's face lit up with happiness. Kurt tried not to be upset by that as Gavroche took his arm and the two walked away together.

The minute Santana stepped up to the front of the choir room, the Glee Club knew that something was up. Especially with that small, knowing smile of hers.

"Santana?" Mr. Schuester asked, puzzled. "Do you have something to say?"

"Not me," she replied. The doors opened, and as if on cue (and it probably was), in came Blaine Anderson, followed by Principal Figgins, who was beaming like Jesus Himself had just told him he'd won the lottery via a giant sundae-gram. The hackles of the assembled gleeks rose even more; Figgins was well-known as being an… enthusiastic supporter of the wealthy and influential Anderson family from the day he'd managed to enroll their only son into his school. His happiness meant that Anderson's, and Anderson's happiness meant… Well, who knew what it meant? That was the worst part.

Mr. Schue's puzzlement deepened. "Ah… Principal Figgins… Blaine… To what do we owe the honor?"

Blaine stepped forward, his hands wringing. "I… have something I need to say to the Glee Club."

"Uh… Of course. Go right ahead."

He looked up at the gathered group; some looked hostile, some looked puzzled, some kept careful neutrality. Only Santana looked anywhere near pleased. "I wanted to apologize to you all."

There was a dead silence. "You what?" Mercedes asked flatly.

"Apologize. I've… been talking to Santana a lot lately. She really opened my eyes to how horribly I've been treating people I considered beneath me, to all the damage I've caused people, outside and in. I guess with my popularity, I never really let myself notice other people's feelings. I never realized how far I'd gone."

"Santana told you all this?" Tina asked doubtfully.

"And you're sorry?" Sam chimed in, skepticism written across his voice and features.

"I am," Blaine answered. "I never meant to go so far. I guess I just stopped seeing the forest for the trees. I lost perspective. I forgot that other people matter." The members of New Directions stared; he seemed completely, utterly sincere, sorrow and shame and regret written across his face. Still, the football team knew all too well his ease at faking sincerity. Principal Figgins apparently did not; he looked as pleased as punch while Mr. Schuester listened with his befuddled expression intact. "I know I haven't done much to some of you, but I have been inexcusably cruel to people you care about… and I can't tell you how sorry I am."

Wow, Santana thought, when he writes a speech, he writes a speech. She stepped forward, standing next to Blaine. "Well, I for one believe him," she said aloud. "Mr. Schue says the Glee Club is about second chances? I think he deserves one as much as anyone."

"You got him to do this," Tina repeated in the same flat, doubtful tone.

"Is that really so unbelievable?"

"Um, yes." The others nodded or muttered agreement. "Why would you care?"

Santana smiled at the perfect cue, taking Blaine's hand. "Wouldn't you want to help your boyfriend become a better person?"

That heavy, stifling silence fell upon the gathered group again. "Excuse me," Quinn sputtered, "did you say boyfriend?" Mercedes' jaw dropped as Sam turned green and Lauren made a decidedly non-sarcastic gagging sound. Brittany merely frowned a little.

"That's right: Blaine and I are dating."

"W-when did this happen?" Finn stammered.

Santana tossed her head, her hair flowing back. "I don't think that's any of your business. What's important here is that we've done a lot of talking, and we want to do something about the atmosphere here that's made good guys like Blaine think they have to push others around to be popular."

The stunned faces on the other teenagers were, Blaine had to admit to himself, priceless. "A-are you actually listening to yourself?" Artie asked in disbelief.

"And we have a plan," Santana continued, ignoring him entirely.

"Um," Mr. Schuester interrupted, "not that we don't appreciate the apology, but why are you telling us this?"

Blaine stepped in here. "Because we need you. All of you."

The silence deepened.

"If Saint Valentine were alive today, I'd stone him all over again," Kurt declared sourly. He sat on his bed, leaning back against the wall, staring off into space.

"C'mon, Kurt, have a heart," Dave chuckled from his seat at Kurt's desk. "Besides, this year you have someone to share it with…"

"Who, Gavroche? No offense to him or you, but we've only met for coffee twice. That's not exactly a Valentine's Day level of intimacy." Kurt shook his head. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm single on a holiday built entirely around couples. Again."

Dave sighed, as if coming to a momentous decision. "Fine, if misery loves company, then let me join you. We can cry on each other's shoulders, eat ice cream right from the carton, and watch Lifetime Movies of the Week so we can laugh and prove to ourselves that the single life is superior after all."

Kurt beamed. "Why, Dave, that's an excellent idea. Mint chocolate chip or rocky road?"

"What, you're serious? Okay, fine, but at least give Gavroche another chance. Last I heard, you guys sure sounded like you were getting along, the way you two were talking up a storm about musicals and fashion designers."

Kurt's mood soured. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

"What?"

"Please. I have enough on my mind without thinking about dates and boyfriends on Valentine's Day."

"But… it's the perfect time to…"

"Please, Dave," Kurt repeated, a pleading look entering his face. "Not now, okay?"

"O… okay…" Dave turned his gaze and drummed on his leg with his fingers. Kurt called this one "Karofsky expression 22: shame mixed with something that I haven't quite figured out yet."

Kurt would later realize just how differently things could've gone had he just opened his mouth and said what he wanted to say right then and there. But with the Gavroche issue still hanging over his head, he actively resisted the impulse, for which he would be kicking himself for years to come. Instead, he jumped off the bed, if only to break the tension. "But first… We have a performance to give."

Dave frowned. "We do?"

And so, after the "Lonely Hearts" performance at Breadstix and an invitation extended to fellow single Warblers, about half of the group ended up in the common lounge at Dalton, passing around the rocky road ice cream and making sarcastic remarks about the acting and caliber of stars being cast in Lifetime movies. Only once in the entire evening did Kurt even glance in Dave's direction; he certainly seemed happy.

For now, for Kurt, that almost felt like enough.