Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the film Blended – I just loved the film and thought it would be interesting if it was Klaine. I've changed four out of five of the kids' names from the film; the only one I kept was Espn, because I think that name is awesome XD

Blended

"Yeah, you'll never believe where he brought me – Breadstix! The food is disgusting here, Rachel, and half of it's not even cooked; and he…well, he looks like the love child of Borat and a hobbit! My first date since the divorce, and I end up with this class act!"

Pulling the chain, Kurt Hummel nudged open the cubicle door with his phone tucked between his left shoulder and his ear. He approached the sink and gave a heavy sigh.

"Anyway, how are the boys doing? Is Berkley asleep?"

On the other end of the line, Rachel bit her lip. "Well…not all the way."

"THIS…T-SHIRT'S ON FIRREEE!"

Kurt frowned to himself. "Wait, hold up: why is he singing that, Rachel?"

"It's nothing," She tried to convince him down the phone, shooting a glare at the eleven year old boy who had done so; Berkley Hummel was roller-blading around the tidy kitchen with a stick in his hands, a t-shirt in flames on the end of it. "Berkley, put that out right now!"

"It's okay!" A voice said from behind Rachel; thirteen year old Oliver Hummel was standing in the doorway armed with a fire extinguisher. "I got it!" And he aimed it at the fire his brother had created.

Rachel gave a smile to herself in relief. "No, you know what, Kurt? It's all good; it's out now."

Kurt paused as he washed his hands. "What's out now? Rachel?"

Oliver turned to Rachel with the fire extinguisher. "INTRUDER ALERT!"

And he opened fire at her.

"Rachel?" Kurt repeated down the phone. "Alright, you know what, I'm coming home; can you call me back in ten minutes and pretend there's an emergency? That should get me out of this date."

There was a moment of silence from down the phone. "Kurt?...Can we make that five minutes?"

Blaine Anderson sighed as he looked around the restaurant again; his date hadn't returned from the bathroom yet. Should he have been worried?

Good riddance, he thought to himself. This date was going pretty poorly anyway. Blaine briefly decided that he'd wait another few minutes, and if the other man hadn't returned then he'd just pay the bill and leave.

No such luck.

"Sorry about that," Kurt breathed, flinging himself back into his seat. "Had to take a phone-call…what is this?"

Blaine gave a shrug. "You seemed to be taking forever and I got hungry again, so…" He pointed to the dishes on the table between them. "Shrimp with spicy sauce on the side, breadsticks in the shape of a heart and then two beers to take the edge off."

Kurt couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in distaste. "Uh, I don't drink beer – at least, not during the week or when I have work the next morning."

"Oh." The dark-haired man gave a small nod. "Right. Okay…so…what is it that you do?"

The other man straightened up proudly. "I run a fashion line with a few of my friends for teenagers and adults; we design, make and model the clothing ourselves. It's all very modern and fashionable with the time of course."

"Cool," Blaine said unenthusiastically. "I'm pretty into fashion, though, and I've never heard your name before…maybe because I'm more of a men's fashion guy?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes slightly. "Oh? And what is it that you do, Blaine?"

"I actually do two jobs," He answered pointedly, trying to maintain dignity. "I do morning shifts at a sports store during the week and then I teach kids music on the weekend."

"That explains your clothes," Kurt bit out under his breath – and he wasn't wrong: his date was wearing a Buckeyes tee for Gucci's sake!

Blaine bristled at this. "Unlike some people, I don't have the luxury of spending a great deal of cash on something as meaningless as clothes – I know that there are more important things."

"Clearly," Kurt muttered dryly, reaching for his beer and taking a gulp – at the rate this was going, he was going to need it.

Blaine closed his eyes and gave a sigh. "Look, I'm sorry, I know this isn't going well. I just…I haven't been on a date in twenty years."

Though annoyed, Kurt gave a small nod in agreement. "Neither have I; I haven't been on a date since senior year of high school."

"Married in college?" Blaine prompted, and when the other man nodded he gave a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, me too. Isn't that weird? Then again, I suppose that's pretty common in this place, right? One of a statistic?"

Clearly, Kurt did not like being referred to as 'one of a statistic'. "You know, I'm curious," He gritted out icily. "With so many possible reasons, which one's the one your husband left you for?"

Blaine's grin disappeared. "Cancer."

Kurt's icy façade melted at this. "O-Oh."

"And it was my wife," The shorter man corrected in a clipped tone. "I came out after she…well."

"I'm sorry," The brunette apologized sincerely; he could understand, as his own mother had passed away of cancer when he was little. "I didn't know…I just naturally assumed that you were divorced."

"It's okay," Blaine muttered, trying to crack a joke. "I naturally assumed that your husband – or wife – shot themselves, so we're even."

Before Kurt could say anything scathing to that remark, a ringtone sounded. Blaine looked up from his plate and fished a mobile from his trouser pocket.

"Hello?" He paused, and his eyes went wide. "No! An avalanche! In our back yard? I'll be there right away!" He hung up and looked at Kurt quickly. "I have to go," He lied obviously. "Family emergency." Blaine reached into his pocket as he stood up and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "That should cover my half – keep the change."

"He used the emergency excuse on you?!" Rachel questioned, looking livid as she helped Kurt pin their newest creation.

"As if he had to escape?!" Mercedes agreed. "Like you were the horrible one? Ah, hell to the no, white boy; what a jerk!"

Kurt just gave a snort. "You were right, girls; blind dates are terrible. Everyone has a bad blind date story, and that loser is mine. I don't know why I let Santana hook me up that guy: you have to meet this guy, he's perfect for you my ass!"

Rachel's pocket buzzed, and she quickly dropped the cloth she was holding to answer it; immediately a coy smile spread across her face. "Hi, Jesse!...No, I'm just at work, nothing important…I know, it was two nights ago and I'm still sore!"

Mercedes and Kurt shared a disgusted look with one another.

"Anyway, I should probably…oh, I 'l-word' you too!"

Kurt did a double take as she hung up on the phone. "Hold on, Rach; did you just say it to someone? The 'l-word'?"

Rachel went bright pink.

"So, the 'l-word'?" Mercedes questioned teasingly. "Jesse, huh?"

"That's great!" Kurt exclaimed enthusiastically. "Why didn't you tell us?"

She shrugged. "Well, first of all your love life isn't going too well so I thought I wouldn't rub it in…that and I wasn't sure if you'd be mad at me."

It took him a moment to realize what she meant. "Oh, Rach…Of course I'm not mad. It's been over twenty years – Finn would want you to be happy."

"Rachel has a point though, Kurt," Mercedes agreed. "You finally went on a date and it was so awful…she probably didn't want you to feel lonely."

"Yeah; lonelier than you already feel," Rachel added.

Kurt just smiled good-naturedly. "I'm not lonely. I don't need a man in my life to be happy. Besides I already have two wonderful guys in my life: Oliver and Berkley."

Rachel's smile dropped at the mention of the two boys she had babysat the night before. "Oliver needs a girlfriend, and Berkley needs ADHD medication."

"You're suggesting sex and drugs as a remedy for my children's behaviour?" Kurt asked, raising a brow.

"Enough about the kids," Mercedes interrupted eagerly. "Tell me about this Jesse guy!"

As the two girls continued to talk, Kurt turned back to the blazer he'd been pinning; for some reason, the colour he'd chosen reminded him of Adam - his ex-husband. Perhaps it was because it was the same colour as Adam's eyes…

"Kurt? Are you crying?"

Mercedes was suddenly wrapping her arms around him comfortingly. "Boo? What's the matter?"

"It's nothing," Kurt brushed off, ignoring the tears stinging his eyes. "I was just…this blazer is wrong, all wrong; it should be sexy and sleek and dark and…and…" He bit his lip. "I should have been exactly that."

"He cheated on you because he's an absolute idiot," Mercedes stated firmly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Kurt; it's him that did the wrong thing, not you."

"But….maybe if I had tried to be a bit sexier or…or something…"

Rachel also wrapped her arms around him. "Kurt, he's not worth your tears – he made his decision to do that, and he's the problem. Not you."

"He's a pig," Mercedes agreed.

Kurt bit his lip. "But the boys don't know that. They just…" His face screwed up with the effort of not crying. "They want us to get back together, a-and I don't know how to explain it to them!"

"Well it's time for them to learn that their other dad is a big pile of crap!" Rachel stated seriously, and Mercedes nodded.

"It's okay Boo," Mercedes assured him in a hushed tone. "We've got your back."

Honestly? Blaine hated his job at the sports store. But, truth be told, he needed the money more than anything else; ever since his wife had died years ago, it had been him alone supporting the bills for the house, the food, everything that they had built together.

"So?" Sam questioned, tapping his fingers on the check-out desk where Blaine was based. "How did the date go?"

"It was dreadful," Blaine said bluntly. "There was no connection at all; definitely one of my worst dates. I was so happy when you came up with the avalanche thing – it saved my life!" The blonde chuckled. "He was full of himself and such an airhead; and the way he dressed was like…an assistant principal or something. I don't think I'm ready to start dating again yet anyway."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "So you didn't even think of banging him?"

"No!" Blaine scoffed, starting to chuckle. "I'm out of the dating anyway; it's time and money I should be spending with my kids."

The blonde gave his friend a shove and grinned as he looked over his shoulder. "Speaking of: Anderson girl number one is approaching!"

Sure enough, Blaine recognized the short bright red hair belonging to his eldest daughter coming up to the counter, clutching a binder to her chest and looking around at the mostly-male customers with a sharp look.

"Hey, Sammi!" Blaine called cheerfully, and he raised his hand in a fist.

His daughter rolled her eyes at him. "Samantha, Dad, which is bad enough."

"Okay, Samantha," Blaine gave her a look. "You gonna leave me hanging, Samantha?" Samantha relented after a moment and fist bumped him, a hint of a smile on her face. "Awesome. Anyway, that new camping equipment should be in soon enough, just in time for Spring Break-"

"We're going camping in our back yard again this year?" Samantha asked incredously, groaning slightly.

"Is there a problem with that?" Her dad asked, raising a brow. "You too old or something?"

She shuffled on the spot and bit her lip. "No," She lied, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "It's just that some of the other kids in my year are going to nice places, like…Florida…or Colorado or…even Switzerland."

"Okay…so you got a lot of rich kids in your school," Blaine shrugged off, looking somewhat apologetic. "Sammi, you know that we don't have that kind of money, sweetie."

"I know," Samantha sighed, turning away. "I just thought it'd be nice to go someplace, that's all."

As Blaine watched her walk off, he couldn't help but sigh to himself; he tried to do the best by his kids, he really did, but he wasn't earning that kind of money. He knew it wasn't fair on them, especially fifteen-year-old Samantha, who really needed to be doing that kind of thing.

"You know where you can take her that's cheap?" Sam started jokingly, giving Blaine a nudge out of his thoughts. "My strip class!"

Blaine rolled his eyes and shoved the blonde away. "Ah, piss off!"

Samantha sighed as she shoved her rucksack onto the counter and took a moment for a breather; she had to keep it calm. After all, her dad was trying his best, and that was what mattered; she should have been supporting him, not nagging.

"Excuse me, sir? I'm here to pick up my basketball uniform."

Samantha blinked at the guy who had approached the counter in disbelief. "Did you just call me sir?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

"I'm a girl."

The other teen did a double take. "Oh…er…"

She shook her head, shouldered her bag and strutted away; she knew that her hair was short and she was wearing a tracksuit – and she was skinny as anything – but did she really look like a boy?

At the Hummel house, Kurt was preparing dinner while Oliver sat at the counter; his eldest son was meant to be doing Math homework on Algebra, though Kurt knew that he struggled with that subject.

"How's the tutoring coming on?" He asked lightly, chopping some onions. "Is he helping?"

Oliver looked up from his book and paused for a moment. "Did you go on a date last night?"

"A date?" Kurt pretended to scoff, hoping to throw his son off. "Who told you I went on a date?"

Oliver smirked knowingly. "You should really change your password, Dad – or should I say, Mr 'one-one-nine-nine'."

The brunette immediately halted his chopping, mouth falling open. "That's the last time I use your birthday as a password…I can't believe that you read my e-mails, Oliver Finn Hummel!" He frowned at his son sternly. "I love you, but you know the rules about respecting each other's privacy in this household, young man!"

The teen just looked at his father coolly. "Who's Blaine?"

"Nobody," Kurt answered honestly. "A buffoon if anything. Trust me, hun, it was nothing."

Oliver hesitated. "Promise?"

"Promise," He agreed.

The back door to the kitchen opened and a tiny figure came skating into the kitchen yelling at the top of his lungs. "I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD! WEEEEEEE!"

Kurt straightened up. "Hey, no wheels in the house, Berkley!" He exclaimed sternly, moving to try and catch his youngest son. "I've told you before!"

Oliver, thankful for the distraction from his homework, grinned. "Tackle him, Dad! Take him down!"

"Did your dad take you for ice-cream on the way home from school?!" Kurt questioned, unsuccessfully trying to grab Berkley.

"Spank him!"

Berkley laughed. "Vanilla, cookie dough and chocolate chip!" He dodged past his father. "I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!"

He ran over to his brother, reached over the counter and grabbed Oliver's homework before running out of the kitchen in the direction of the stairs. "HEY! GIVE ME THAT BACK!"

Kurt, feeling useless, watched after them. "No fighting!" He tried to order weakly. "We respect family, remember!"

"I always did."

He spun around and found himself face to face with Adam; in an attempt to appear cool-headed and calm, he frowned and started towards his ex-husband. "How many times do I have to tell you not to pump Berkley full of sugar before you drop him home?"

Adam, looking ever so relaxed with his slumped posture and Berkley's schoolbag on his back, rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Kurt," He said in his British accent. "I thought going out for ice-cream with dad was meant to be a lasting memory for kids – at least in America."

"Yes," Kurt allowed. "Well, maybe if dad spent more time with him then the memories wouldn't have to be so lasting."

The older man sighed. "It's so great spending time with you, Kurt," He muttered sarcastically, dropping Berkley's bag to the floor.

Taking a deep breath, the brunette rubbed at his temples before putting a smile on his face. "Hi."

"Hi," Adam repeated, also smiling coyly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Kurt said pleasantly. "Are you going to Berkley's game on Saturday?"

Adam looked offended by this. "Yes! Of course!"

"Great," Kurt said, still in a falsely pleasant voice. "I'll put you down."

As he moved across the kitchen to the refrigerator, Adam quipped, "Well, that is what you do best."

"On the board, Adam," The other man stressed, rolling his eyes.

"They don't need a board," His ex-husband stated firmly. "A list? Come on, Kurt, they know that they can count on me."

"DAD?!" That was Berkley's voice. "CAN YOU HELP ME DO MY HOMEWORK?!"

Adam started to back away. "Uh…sorry, bud, I can't: I have to go to a thing! Ask your dad…" As he opened the door and slipped out, and side-eyed Kurt. "This is not an example of my behaviour, by the way!"

Kurt watched him leave, arms folded, and sighed to himself; great, just what the boys needed – why couldn't Adam just be there for them for one afternoon?

"Dad?...Did you leave?"

Meanwhile in the Anderson household, Samantha was in the upstairs bathroom; shirt off and standing in her sports bra, she examined her chest in the mirror critically. It was official: she had to do something about her chest if she wanted to be seen as a girl.

Mind made up, she reached for the packet of gel shoe liners and opened it to grab one. Ignoring the sticky feel of it, she folded it up and stuffed it into her bra before examining herself once again in the mirror – it was a far better improvement, and she grinned in satisfaction. She reached to pick up the other one, again folding it and moving to put it into her other bra cup.

Just as she was positioning it, the bathroom door opened.

"Hey, Sammi, do you want to- OH MY GOD!"

Samantha hurriedly reached into her bra and pulled out both of the shoe liners, throwing them at the mirror, where they stuck. "DAAD! GET OUT!"

"OH MY-"

"GET OUT!"

Blaine hurriedly exited, slamming the door behind him and burning red in the face.

"Jesus, Dad! Why didn't you knock?!"

"I'm sorry, honey," Blaine called through the door, rubbing at his neck awkwardly. "I didn't see anything!"

Samantha, on the other side of the door, buried her face in her hands. "OH! Thanks a lot!"

Realizing what she meant, Blaine went even redder. "NO! No, I mean…there was plenty to see…NO! No, I…I didn't see any gelling going on…" Knowing he was just making it worse, he went with his only back-up. "How about a fist bump?"

"NO!"

"Sammi," Blaine said seriously. "We both need this fist bump."

After a moment, the door opened a fraction and his daughter's hand appeared; Blaine quickly bumped it before the hand retreated and the door slammed shut.

Well, that could have gone a lot better.

In the sudden silence, Blaine heard a voice talking; turning around, he realized it was coming from Espn's room and decided to see what was going on. Having learnt his lesson not five minutes previously, he made sure to knock on the door before opening it.

"Hey, how we doing today?"

Espn – his second oldest daughter – was sat on her bed, facing an empty chair; when he entered, she looked up at him. "I'm talking to Mom."

"Great," Blaine muttered, giving a small nod of the head – she'd been doing this for quite some time now. "What are you guys talking about?"

Espn bit her lip, looking at the chair and back again. "Girl stuff."

"Oh. Cool." He hesitated. "You know, I'm pretty good with girl stuff too, you know."

Espn sighed and turned to the chair. "Excuse me a second." She stood up and walked over to Blaine, looking somewhat apologetic and awkward. "Thanks, Dad," She said sincerely, putting a hand on the door and starting to shut it again. "But I really just want to talk to Mom."

Blaine nodded. "Okay. Sure. Say hi from me."

He seriously wasn't doing well today with his kids.

"DADDY!"

At least there was still Allie; she was only five years old, and so she was still particularly close to him – which he didn't mind at all.

As she reached the top of the stairs, she gestured to herself. "I'm all out of stickers."

Blaine looked over her and grinned to himself; she was absolutely covered in stickers of all kinds, from Disney princesses to dinosaurs. "You're all out of face. What happened to you?"

She giggled as he reached down to pick her up. "Can I play with Espn now?"

"Espn is having her quiet time."

Allie gave a serious nod. "Oh. With invincible Mommy?" She whispered so that her sister wouldn't overhear.

Also dropping his voice to a whisper, Blaine nodded. "Invisible, yes."

Allie gave a small sigh. "It's not fair that only Espn gets to see her. I wish I could see her."

"I know," Blaine agreed quietly. "Me too. Tell you what, how about we get you some mac and cheese?"

Allie grinned and nodded. "Mac and Cheese!"

Though the day was sunny that Saturday and the air warm, Berkley wasn't smiling – his team was winning, he was up next and Kurt was in the stands watching…but his other dad wasn't, and that was what mattered.

Kurt, at the point, was distraught and on the phone with Adam. "He's looking around here, trying to find you!" He hissed. "You knew it was today, I've sent you reminders every day this week!"

"The meeting went on longer than expected," He heard Adam argue. "What do you want from me?"

Pissed off, Kurt growled, "I just want you to be a dad!" before hanging up all together. He knew he couldn't count on Adam…but Berkley was so looking forward to him coming…

One of the guys sitting behind Kurt gave a chuckle. "Why don't you hop over to the snack truck, see if they have any chill pills?"

"Chill pills?" They both turned to see Rachel and Mercedes walking arm-in-arm to the stands to sit with Kurt. "Why don't you 'bust a move' back to the nineteen-seventies?"

"What are you guys doing here?" Kurt asked, though he was pleased. "You're both at a baseball game?"

Mercedes laughed. "Berry's got some exciting news!"

As they sat down, Rachel beamed. "I'm going on a mystery trip with Jesse!"

"Oh. That's great!" Kurt added, giving her a smile. "Where's he taking you?"

"I have no idea – he's so much fun!" Rachel gushed. "I'm so excited though!"

"Now for batter twenty…Berkley Hummel!"

Kurt sat up, turning his attention back to the game at this announcement. "Oh, that's him-… COME ON BERKLEY!" The three of them cheered as the eleven year old approached the base, looking somewhat nervous.

Another man – sitting next to the one from earlier – looked appalled. "They're putting this kid in?"

The first guy nodded. "It's a league rule; every kid has to play two innings… Even kids like him."

The three friends turned around immediately, severely annoyed.

"-You better shut your mouth!-"

"-You asshole, he's only eleven-"

"-Go invade a disco or something, loser-"

The two guys looked at each other wordlessly, both speechless by this.

"Hey," Mercedes pitched in, turning back to the game. "How old is that pitcher? He's got a moustache."

Come on, Berkley, Kurt thought desperately. You can do it.

The pitcher aimed and threw it in; Berkley closed his eyes and swung the bat – he missed.

"STRIKE ONE!"

"That's okay, honey!" Kurt called, clapping to try and encourage his son. "You can do it! Shake it off!"

Rachel and Mercedes didn't look so convinced. "Kurt, he's not going to have one of his meltdowns, is he?" Mercedes asked nervously.

"No," Kurt said, slightly sharp. "He's got two more swings; he'll be fine."

"Okay…well, I think I'll go now just in case," Rachel announced, standing up; a moment later, she sat down again. "Oh, by the way: I need a week off."

Kurt gave a small nod, still watching the game. "Sure…when's the vacation?"

"Two weeks from today."

"Okay…wait," Kurt realized, groaning slightly to himself. "That won't work, Rach; it's Spring Break so I'll be off to take care of the boys."

The pitcher threw the ball again – and, again, Buckley missed, completely swinging out of time.

"STRIKE TWO!"

"It's okay, Berk, you've got this!" Kurt shouted across the field, although he was starting to feel nervous now.

One of the guys from behind snorted to his friend. "Check out what happens when this kid strikes out!"

All three of them spun around at once.

"-You have been warned, you rat!-"

"-One more comment like that and I will throw this bag in your face, accessories and all-"

"-Can't you keep your mouth shut, you absolute scumbag?!-"

The guy sat back once again, looking somewhat terrified.

Turning back, Rachel looked at Kurt curiously. "I thought Adam was taking the kids water rafting or something."

"Shocker: he cancelled," Kurt muttered sarcastically, quite bitter over it. "Business trip or something. Now I'm tearing my hair out trying to come up with something that'll compete with that."

Mercedes gave him an apologetic look. "I don't think you will, Kurt."

"Exactly," Rachel agreed, leaning into him. "And why should we both be miserable?"

Before Kurt could answer that, the pitcher threw the ball in one final time – and, of course, Berkley missed.

The eleven year old gave a yell of frustration. "I HATE THIS I HATE THIS! I SUCK AT THIS!" He screamed, banging his baseball bat against the ground.

"Oh no," Kurt sighed sadly.

Berkley's temper tantrum continued with him kicking the floor angrily, still screaming and yelling. After a moment he lifted up the base and threw it across the field at a nearby team-mate.

"Oh boy, here we go again," The girl commentating groaned.

Kurt couldn't help but drop his head in his hands as his son began to roll around on the floor – this was not how he had wanted the match to go.

The man sitting behind them leaned over and smirked. "Maybe he should try badminton!"

This was it – the final straw.

"Maybe you should try mouthwash!" Kurt snapped, standing up and glaring at the man.

"And deodorant!" Rachel added.

"And some testosterone supplement!" Mercedes agreed hotly.

"And Cialis! I'm just assuming !"

The two men sat in silence for a moment, looking stunned. Finally, the man's friend quickly added, "And shave your neck!" When his friend looked at him, he shrugged. "What? It's very hairy!"

Kurt, Rachel and Mercedes shared looks of agreement.

Later that night, Kurt was tasked with having to calm down a tearful Berkley; it broke his heart to hear his eleven year old son sob about his other dad not turning up, and Kurt desperately wished that Adam was there just so that he could slap him.

Once he'd finally calmed his son down, he sent his youngest off to bed and decided to get a start on the household chores – night time was the only time he got the time to do those, what with the full-time job and kids. That night was laundry duty; this involved going into the boys' bedrooms and collecting all of their dirty clothes.

Out of the two of them, Oliver was definitely the messiest; entering his room was like entering a battleground. Stepping over Lego spacecrafts, DVDs and shoes, Kurt began collecting the t-shirts strewn across the floor; he could see one sticking out from under his son's bed, so Kurt bent to retrieve it.

This, of course, led to the discovery of many other dirty clothes, and Kurt hastily retrieved them all. It was only when the area was cleared that he noticed a page from a magazine lying there. Curious, he reached for it and straightened it out.

He immediately wished he hadn't.

His son had a centrefold of some naked woman, clearly taken from a porn magazine; besides the fact he was gay, it was disturbing for Kurt to see this in his son's room…and then he noticed that his son had posted a familiar face over the model's.

Rachel's face, to be exact.

Kurt shuddered and closed his eyes; when he opened them it was still there. Disgusted, he acted on instinct and tore the image to shreds – over and over again in the hopes that maybe it would also eliminate the image of it from his mind.

It was only when he was finished that he remembered what he'd said to Oliver at the beginning of the week.

"I love you, but you know the rules about respecting each other's privacy in this household, young man!"

"Great," Kurt muttered to himself, sighing.

He was going to have to replace it.

Though Allie had her own room, she far preferred to sit with Blaine in his bed, falling asleep alongside him, because he was warm and cuddly. So that was where the two found themselves that evening; lying in Blaine's bed together, snuggled up and watching late night re-runs of Looney Tunes on the television.

"Daddy?" Allie asked suddenly, breaking the silence between them.

Blaine looked at her briefly, engrossed in the cartoon. "Yeah?"

"What do you miss about Mommy?"

He hesitated slightly. "What do I miss about Mommy?" He repeated, looking at his youngest seriously. "Well…everything. I mean, I miss her laugh, her smile, and her little nose – which she gave to you." Allie gave a small giggle. "I miss having to watch The Wizard of Oz because of her…"

"I love that movie," Allie agreed, pleased by this.

"I know," Blaine chuckled lowly. "She'd always sing the songs to us – especially Over the Rainbow. That one was her favourite." He gave a small sigh. "But you know what I miss the most about her?"

"What?"

"Getting to tell her how much I love her."

This was no lie; deep down, he had loved her. Louise had been a kind and caring woman, and she had loved him too; even when he realized he was gay, she was supportive. It was love, but a different kind of love.

"Are you allowed to do that with anyone else?" His daughter asked quietly.

"Am I allowed?" Blaine repeated slowly. "Well…before your mother left, all she could talk about was me finding somebody else but I told her that…that I can't, because she's my one and only." He tried not to tear up at the memory.

Allie looked up at him, entranced. "And what did Mommy say?"

"Mommy said…Your Mommy said, 'My heart is so big that it has room for two'." He tried to crack a grin. "That's another thing that I miss about her, Al; she actually thought I was pretty awesome."

Allie grinned. "I think you're awesome, Daddy."

"Aw, thanks sweetheart."

As he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, there was a knock on the open bedroom door; when he looked up, he saw Samantha standing there looking rather awkward.

"Hey, Dad?" She started nervously. "I…uhh…have a personal errand that I need to run, and I need to borrow the car."

"Well, you can't drive without me yet," Blaine pointed out. "And someone's got to stay here with your sisters."

Samantha rolled her eyes and went pink. "Dad. I have a personal errand."

"What does that mean?" He questioned, looking confused; by this point, he had no idea what was going on.

Allie's mouth opened in understanding and she turned her head to him. "Dad, she's monsterating."

Blaine raised a brow. "What?"

"I HAVE MY PERIOD!" Samantha exclaimed, now bright red as she threw her hands in the air and walked away.

"Oh!" Blaine went red too. "I'm sorry…I…err…forgot that you get those!"

The feminine hygiene section at the grocery store just plain baffled Blaine, to say the least; why were there so many different brands? So many different types? He couldn't wrap his head around it. "Tampax heavy flow? Poise feminine wash?...What the heck's a diva cup?!" Not quite knowing what to do, he picked up the closest packet and examined it.

Meanwhile, Kurt was only a few feet away; in his arms was a stack of something he never thought he'd ever have – porn magazines for straight males. Of course, he wasn't sure which magazine the centrefold he had torn apart had belonged to, so his only option was to pick up one of every different magazine.

And then he saw the very last person in the world that he wanted to see: the bad-date-guy Blaine. He quickly ducked out of sight, hoping he hadn't been seen.

But he was a second too late; Blaine grinned as he noticed Kurt and made his way over to the other man.

"Hi!" He greeted in a mock-cheerful voice, just as Kurt hid the magazines under the flap of his coat. "Don't tell me…"

"Kurt."

He nodded. "Yeah, that's it! Kurt!"

"And you're Mister Breadstix," Kurt replied dryly.

"Blaine." He pointed to Kurt's chest. "What's going on with them then? Changing teams? Reading for the articles? Don't tell me; you're going to make a mood board and stick clothes on the naked bodies?"

Kurt bit his lip and sighed as he removed the magazines again. "No. These are for my son actually."

Blaine gave a rather dirty grin. "Oh. I see."

"No," The other man said sharply. "I found a centrefold under his bed and I…I tore it up."

"Why?"

"Because…because he pasted a picture of one of my best friends' face on it," Kurt admitted, grimacing to himself.

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. "Woah. That's just…sick and weird…Is she hot?"

"Oh, very funny," Kurt muttered. "But if you had kids I bet you'd underst-"

"Three daughters," Blaine interrupted smoothly.

Kurt stopped speaking. "You have three daughters?"

He nodded. "Yeah. And what about you? Any other kids, or is it just the one?"

"No...he has a younger brother."

Blaine gave another nod. "Alright. So, what, are you here to replace it before the kid finds out?"

"Yes, but I don't know which magazine it's from," Kurt admitted, looking down at the ones in his arms. "I mean, I've never read this stuff in my life…"

"Do you have any remnants of it left?"

Kurt looked around quickly, making sure that no one else was watching. "Yes. I do." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Blaine. "I tried to tape it back together, but…I don't know…"

The other man opened up the paper and examined it carefully. "Okay…Snapper magazine."

The brunette shot him a suspicious look. "How can you tell?"

"My friend at work showed me this copy last week," Blaine said simply.

Sighing, Kurt dumped the pile in his arms on the shelf and picked up the identified magazine. "Right, well, thank you…"

"Well, actually," Blaine hurriedly started, stopping him from escaping. "I do kind of need a bit of help…actually, no, you know what, you probably won't-"

"What is it?" Kurt questioned impatiently.

Blaine meekly held out the box of tampons in his hand. "My daughter needs…these. Have I…you know…"

Kurt looked at it and snorted humorously, taking the box in his hand. "These are for your daughter?"

"Yeah. She's fifteen and her…friend just paid a visit."

The brunette couldn't help but laugh to himself. "Yeah, well, these are for a much older friend…a much heavier friend staying in a much bigger room than your daughter has."

Blaine looked puzzled – and then it hit him. "Oh! Oh gross!"

Kurt just smirked and re-placed the box on the shelf before picking up another one. "Here."

"How do you know so much about tampons anyway?" Blaine questioned, somewhat suspicious.

"My friends have all gone through it," Kurt said easily, shaking his head as they approached the counter. "Trust me, it's more than I want to know."

"You know, I can't believe that you have three girls," Kurt said derisively as they left the shop. "I can't even imagine you with three girls."

Blaine sent him a sharp look. "Don't then."

Realizing he'd been slightly rude, Kurt gave a small sigh. "Sorry. So, what are their names?"

"Samantha, Allie and Espn."

Kurt wrinkled his brow. "Espn? That's…unique. Is it biblical?"

"No," Blaine said, starting to chuckle. "Named after me and my brother's favourite network."

"What are you…" And then it clicked. "No," Kurt said in disbelief. "God, your wife must have been a saint!"

Blaine's chuckles disappeared. "Yeah. She was." He looked Kurt up and down. "Then again, I suppose your ex must have been pretty patient having to deal with the jerk-off."

"Hey, watch it!" Kurt snapped quickly. "That's my son you're talking about! At least I don't bring my dates to cheap places like Breadstix!"

"That place was too good for you," The shorter man shot at him, turning away and heading for his car. "You know what, I'm done with this. Good luck with the chronic masturbator!"

Kurt honestly didn't want to be the one to deliver this news – but who else was going to do it?

"Unfortunately, your dad has had to cancel the water rafting trip," He told Oliver and Berkley, and they both immediately looked distraught. "A business trip came up, so he's going to have to postpone it until the summer."

"What?" Berkley cried.

"So we're stuck here doing nothing again?" Oliver questioned angrily.

Kurt hurriedly raised his hands in an attempt to calm them down. "Don't worry, I have plans-"

"Like what?" Berkley asked, slumping back on the sofa. "Like going bowling and to the mall for more clothes?"

The doorbell rang, and both of the boys suddenly leapt up out of their seats. "I bet that's dad!" Oliver announced excitedly.

"Maybe he'll take us on his business trip!"

Oliver threw open the door, ready to see their father; instead they were met face-to-face with a short man with gelled hair, wearing a bowtie and patterned cardigan, on their door step.

"Is your dad home?" He asked.

Oliver frowned at him. "What do you mean? Who are you?"

"I'm Blaine…?"

"Blaine?" Oliver repeated, narrowing his eyes. "As in, 'blaine669'?"

"Yes? Why? How do you know my e-mail?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

Berkley crossed his arms. "What do you want?"

"I need to talk to your dad for a minute-"

"Well, he's not interested in you," Oliver interrupted sharply. "So you can back off!"

Blaine gave a small laugh. "Right. Okay. Believe me, I don't like him either, so you don't have to worry. Unfortunately I have to sort something out with him."

"Boys! Who's at the…oh." Kurt stopped when he saw Blaine. "What do you want now?"

Oliver looked up at his father angrily. "You lied! You do like him, don't you?!"

"What? Honey, I didn't lie, I don't like him!" Kurt argued, outraged by this. "He's a buffoon, just like I told you."

"You know what, don't talk to me right now!" And with that, Oliver stormed away towards the stairs with Berkley following after him.

"Great," Kurt muttered to himself before turning to the man on his doorstep. "Right. What do you want?"

Blaine lifted up a credit card. "The cashier at the pharmacy mixed up our cards. I take it you are Kurt Hummel?"

Kurt blinked and stepped back to let him in. "Oh. God, I've been losing it lately – what's wrong with me?" As he led the way to the kitchen, he halted suddenly. "Hang on; how do you know where I live?"

Blaine shrugged. "Searched you up on Google; just typed in, 'fashion designer Kurt' and you popped up."

The back door to the kitchen slammed open, and Rachel stormed into the house; her face was red and tear-stained. "Kurt? We have to talk!"

"Rach!" Kurt immediately put his arm around her, forgetting about Blaine entirely. "Rachel, what's wrong?"

She gave a loud sniff. "It's over between me and Jesse!"

"Over?! What do you mean 'over'?" Kurt asked, rather confused. "You just started using the 'l-word'."

Blaine raised a triangular eyebrow. "The 'l-word'? Are you gay too?"

"Who is this?" Rachel asked, gesturing to him.

"I'm Blaine."

Rachel looked at Kurt unsurely. "Blaine? The bad-date-guy?"

Kurt gave a grave nod. "Unfortunately."

"But you said that that was a disaster!"

"It was."

"And that he was a hobbit!"

"He is."

Blaine cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm right here."

"Our cards got switched," Kurt explained. "Anyway, what happened with Jesse?"

"He just dropped a major bomb on me-"

"He's married," Kurt finished, giving an understanding nod.

Rachel sighed. "No – worse. He's got kids!"

Kurt and Blaine both stared at her for a moment – and then they both laughed pityingly. It was only when he heard Blaine's deep chuckles that Kurt remembered he was still there.

"You're still here – why?" Kurt asked icily.

Blaine raised another brow. "You still have my card – why?"

The brunette shook his head for a moment before turning back to his friend. "Wait, so you're going to break it off with him just because he has children?"

"Five children, Kurt. Five. He asked me if I wanted to be a part of 'the team' – no I don't!" She stated, looking appalled at the idea. "I mean, yes, it would make me rather like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music and Lord knows how much I love that musical, but I'm not ready for that kind of commitment!"

"Well, why don't you go on the trip?" Kurt suggested. "Spend some alone time with him and-"

"Oh no," Rachel interrupted. "He wanted the kids to come with us on the trip. He wanted me to 'get to know them'."

Blaine paused for a moment. "Hang on…five kids…is his last name 'St. James' by any chance?"

Rachel eyed him up. "Yes."

He gave a laugh. "Woah, that's weird! See, Jesse St. James owns the company I work for that run music lessons; I teach under his guidance and rules!"

"Where was he going to take you?" Kurt asked, ignoring the other man completely.

Rachel gave a sigh and pulled out a pamphlet from her handbag. "Africa. It was going to be incredible, see? Sun, sand, safaris…"

Kurt flicked through it, with Blaine looking over his shoulder. "Oh my God…"

"He must really like you a lot," Blaine muttered in agreement.

Kurt gave an annoyed huff and reached for his wallet; he pulled one of the cards out and held it for Blaine to take. "And this concludes our business, goodbye."

They swapped cards, and Blaine headed for the door as he muttered a 'thank you'.

Once he had gone, Kurt turned back to Rachel – and idea was forming on his mind. "So…so is he going to go to Africa all by himself with his kids now?"

"No," Rachel sighed, heading for the fridge. "He's heartbroken, so now nobody gets to go. Damn, why does it have to be joint custody?!"

"This is a week away, Rach," Kurt pointed out carefully. "I hope he can get his money back." He paused, pretending to have gotten an idea before approaching Rachel with a pleading look. "Rachel, my boys would give anything to go on a vacation like this…"

Outside, Blaine had hurriedly dialled the number of Jesse St. James and was walking down the garden path with the phone pressed against his ear.

"Mr St. James, hi!" He greeted. "It's Blaine Anderson…"

"I don't mean to be a vulture picking at the carcass of your dead relationship," Kurt said breathlessly. "But I wonder.."

"-If you'd be willing to sell me the tickets to the vacation you were going to go on?" Blaine asked tentatively.

"I mean, I've been saving and saving but I could never give them full value for it-"

"-But something's better than nothing, sir!"

"It would just be the three of us, of course," Kurt hurriedly added.

"It'd just be the four of us," Blaine explained. "We'd only need one room…"

"Wait until I tell the boys!"

"Wait until I tell the girls!"

"WE'RE GOING TO AFRICA!"