Pairing(s): one-sided Kurtofsky, as much as it kills me to say it.

Rating: PG-13 for language

Word Count: (this chapter) 4,446

Warnings: Coarse language, allusions to sexy-times that Dave will hotly deny, Cousin Olive, pet yark and songs by unfamiliar artists.

Spoilers: Everythin'.

Summary:

Outside, he can hear Ollie and Kurt discussing maintenance and the new Hemi 265 engine she wants. When Kurt starts chattering brightly about working at his dad's shop and digging around under the hood of a similar Valiant, Dave bites his lip hard.

Ollie's sister Dora once informed them that the most common fantasy amongst women aged 25 to 40 was the hot-mechanic trope, and Dave's vivid imagination ensures that they are now not alone in that.

Hit the Open Road

"Is that a Valiant?"

"Hell yeah, it is."

Kurt clucks his approval. "Very nice. 1970, if I'm not much mistaken."

"1973 VJ, actually, but yeah," Ollie grins, "vintage." She digs her keys out her pocket and tossing them to Dave. "Your turn, Humbug."

Dave catches them, slides into the driver's seat and starts looking for his aviators in an attempt to get over the wash of godsoturnedon that had caught him the moment Kurt recognized the freaking car. Outside, he can hear Ollie and Kurt discussing maintenance and the new Hemi 265 engine she wants. When Kurt starts chattering brightly about working at his dad's shop and digging around under the hood of a similar Valiant, Dave bites his lip hard.

Ollie's sister Dora once informed them that the most common fantasy amongst women aged 25 to 40 was the hot-mechanic trope, and Dave's vivid imagination ensures that they are now not alone in that. Goddamn.

He gets himself under control not a moment too soon, because Kurt slips into shotgun, having apparently won the quick paper-scissors-rock tournament for the privilege, and says with elegant raised eyebrows, "'Humbug'?"

"S'a nickname," Dave says, offering a rueful smile while he sets up his iPod, plugging it into the radio tuner and then hanging it by its cord over the rear-view mirror so he can change songs without looking away from the road. "From when I was little, y'know."

"Everyone in our family has one," Ollie says from the back seat, where she's climbed in with Gumtree. "Aunt Lucy was good like that."

"Don't you dare," Dave growls at her, seeing the devious smile lighting up her face. "I'm serious, Ollie."

She blows a dismissive raspberry at him and leans forward. "Wanna hear how he got it?" she asks Kurt.

Kurt darts a look at Dave, who sends him a miserable look back, and yeah, there's a bit of that vindictiveness shining through the sweet smile when Kurt says to Ollie, "oh, definitely."

Dave plays it cool, heaves a bit of sigh, but just when Ollie's starting up with a juicy, "Well then," Dave throws the Valiant into first and roars out of the lot, smirking when Ollie shrieks and is thrown back in her seat.

"Screw you, yeti!"

"Should've been wearing your seatbelt then, shouldn't you?" Dave says loftily, shifting up into second and then third as they hit the open road. "Hey, Kurt?"

Kurt, who is wearing his seatbelt and a bright smile, looks at him. "Yeah?"

Dave flicks his iPod, swinging with the motion of the car. "Pick something off the Death Proof playlist."

Kurt pauses in the midst of pulling down the iPod. "Seriously? That's what you named it?"

Ollie has hauled herself up and pushed her hair out of her face. She glares at Dave and then says, "Yeah, its driving music."

Kurt shakes his head. "Why would you have a playlist of driving music called 'Death Proof'?"

"You know, after the movie."

Kurt stares blankly at him.

"The Quentin Tarantino movie? With Zoe Bell? And Mary Elizabeth Winstead? Kurt Russell? No?" Dave is horrified. "Dude. Dude, how can you not have seen that?"

Kurt is apparently unprepared for the sad-puppy look being thrown at him by Dave, while Ollie, who still isn't wearing her seatbelt, leans over the back of the front bench-seat to gaze at him and say, "Kurt Middlename Hummel, I am disappointed. It's a car movie! With stunt ladies! And hot cars!"

"Okay, you picked up the part where I'm gay, right?" Kurt tries.

Ollie snorts. "That's not an excuse; so's Dave, and he loves that movie."

Kurt gapes. Dave grins.

"Wait, you know?" Kurt demands of Ollie, and when she just laughs he turns back to Dave with, "She knows?" His eyes get this suspiciously sparkly quality to them and he breathes, "Dave, did you come out?"

From the back seat, Ollie gives one of those god-awful, dirty chuckles of hers that alarms and entrances straight males and briefly, that one time they met, Santana. Dave suppresses a shudder, because, just, no. Instead of full body quiver he shrugs at Kurt.

"Just to her. Kind of," he tells the other boy. "I mean, I was trying to, but apparently Ollie's got the 'dar. Only it's not really the 'dar; more like a rainbow dousing rod."

Kurt boggles. He looks so damn cute. "Are you serious?"

"I wish I weren't. But yes."

"You guys…" Kurt shakes his head. "You guys are just full of surprises." Then he's laughing and Dave grins again, and okay, yeah. Feels pretty good.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Ollie puts in from the back, "Button, are you gonna pick a song or do I have to?"

Kurt doesn't even seem to realize he's just been given a nickname. "Oh, right," he murmurs and spends a few seconds scrolling through the playlist. "Who's James Yuill?"

Dave smiles. "Hit it," he says.

"You put James Yuill on Death Proof?" Ollie says, as the opening tsh-tsk-tsh of the backbeat starts up, closely followed by acoustic guitar and James Yuill himself.

"Not all driving music is angst-ridden classic rock, Lollygag."

Kurt's listening to 'This Sweet Love' with this intent look on his face, like it's a revelation all on its own.

Dave smiles and settles in.

It's going to be a long road home.

"Wait," Kurt is saying over The Clash happily belting out 'Should I Stay or Should I Go', "wait, so…Santana wasn't the last person you slushied?"

Dave gives him a sidelong glance looking…embarrassed. Kurt is immediately intrigued.

"So who was it then?" he asks and, as if to legitimize the curiosity, Ollie starts cackling again. Dave flushes and Kurt finds himself making a half-laughing sound of excitement. He hasn't felt this wound up and silly since the night before Prom. "Spill!"

Dave groans. "Fiiiiine," he whines, drawing it out, "but this goes no further than this car. What happens on the road stays on the road, got it? I'm swearing you to secrecy, Fancy."

"Swear," he says, then listens eagerly. Dave sighs.

"Okay, so it was the week after I slushied San, and Zee had been getting all itchy fingered about this new kid he'd seen coming out of the choir room…"

"There she is again," Zee said, grinning, switching his slushy cup to his throwing hand. "You think they'd learn."

The girl in question was calling goodbye to someone in the choir room. Dave noted the long dark hair, round face and…rainbow knock-off Chucks. True, paired with jeans a green sweater it wasn't outstandingly weird, but the fact that she socialized with the glee-nerds and so damn cavalier about it was enough.

And here she was, striding towards them, completely oblivious with her attention focused on the folder of notes in her arms.

Dave and Zee swaggered towards her. Drew back, swung…SPLAT.

"That's terrible," Kurt says, "Although it doesn't explain that," he adds, pointing over the back to where Ollie is clinging to the right hand door and practically crying with laughter.

"Yeeeeeah," Dave says, "wait for it."

They got five feet from her before she recovered her powers of speech.

"Detention," she ground out, voice low, but pitched to carry and brimming with awful, awful rage. "You're going have detention until you graduate!"

Zee, who hadn't noticed the shocked and horrified looks of the other students around them, mouthed off. "Yeah? How'dya figure that, princess?"

"Because she's not a student, you big dumb douche-bags," said a voice from behind them.

They swung to see Santana leaning up against the nearest lockers, smirking.

"Oh, god," Dave breathed, stomach cramping in precognitive horror. "Who…?"

"I'm the Deputy Principal, Mr Karofsky," the girl – woman! – snarled, shaking ice and cordial from her arms and glowering at them as though she were considering taking them apart with her tiny bare hands. "And you two are in very – serious – trouble."

"Oh my god," Kurt says, one hand going to his mouth. "Oh my god, tell me you didn't."

Dave groans at the memory. "We totally did."

"And she actually sounded like that?"

"No joke. Just like that. I've never been so terrified in my entire freaking life."

Not strictly true, Kurt thinks, but pretty damn close. He knows for a fact there's something Dave's more afraid off, although…

He casts a look back at Ollie, who is truly in tears now, gasping and chortling. Kurt grins.

Maybe that's changing.

"How did you not recognise her?" he says.

Dave shakes his head. "Dude. I didn't even know we had a DP."

"Dude," Zee whispered, reaching over to jab Dave's leg. "Did you know we had a DP?"

Dave shook his head from his seat in one of the three chairs facing Deputy Taite's desk. The lady herself was sitting in the big leather chair behind her desk, hair still damp and up in a bun on the back of her head. No jeans and sweater now; this time she actually looked like a Deputy Principal – blouse and slacks and heels, even pearl-drop earrings.

She glowered at them over the folders spread across the blotter pad. "I'm right here, Mr Adams, I can hear you." Her voice was a whip-crack in the small room and both boys sank lower in their chairs. She eyed then for a few fraught seconds. "And I don't think either of you realize how serious your situation is."

"Miss," Zee tried, "we didn't mean to hit you with those slushies; we were just…"

"Going to hit a student? Or you did intend to hit me because you thought I was a student, hmm?"

"Uh…"

"I thought as much. Do you realize I could have the pair of you expelled for this?" She stood, looking down at their expressions of horror and crossing her arms. "This is something neither of you can afford, not with your records. Both of you have previous expulsions and you, Mr Karofsky, as of this year have a detention record competing in length with that of Noah Puckerman."

"Miss Taite," Dave said, very quietly.

"What?"

Dave swallowed. "What…what happens if we get expelled? I mean what…"

The DP drew herself up with a deep breath, eyeing then both. "It goes on your records. No decent college would touch you without substantial convincing and letters of recommendation, and you certainly won't be in the running for any of the scholarships McKinley gets offered."

Dave heard Azimio groan beside him. God, god, they were so, so very screwed. Taite was right; neither of them could afford something like this…

There was a long-suffering sigh from across the desk. "However."

Both boys looked up. The DP's face was still fierce as ever, but she didn't look like she was about to shoot lasers out of her eyes and incinerate them, so.

"Keeping you out of college does no one any good, least of all you juvenile asshats." Dave wasn't sure teachers were supposed to speak to students like that, but he really wasn't one to be throwing stones right now. "So. Both of you are on notice. Your parents will be called and informed of this and you'll be given appearance dates."

She settled back in her chair and picked up a pen, apparently going to work on the papers spread across her desk.

"Wait," Zee said, "on notice? Appearance dates? What does that mean?"

Taite locked her eyes on him. Zee shifted uncomfortably.

"What does that mean, miss?" he backtracked quickly.

"It means," she said, not taking her eyes off him, "that the pair of you repeat offenders and your parents will be appearing in a hearing before the Disciplinary Committee. Of which I am the chairwoman. We'll look at your records, discuss them with your parents and try and find a productive way dealing with you."

"So," Dave said tentatively, "we're not expelled."

The DP narrowed her eyes at him, and he could've sworn her mouth curled a little in a smile.

"Trust me, Mr Karofsky," she said, "expulsion is the last thing you should be worried about. Now get out of my office and get to class."

Kurt is not impressed. "That's it? A hearing?"

"Okay, see, you say that," Dave says earnestly, "but you totally wouldn't be if you'd seen her face. I'm scarred for life."

"She can't possibly be as bad a Coach Sylvester."

Dave groans. "Oh my god, yes she is, because the rest of the time she's actually nice, so when she's mad like that it's just… Okay, not helping, Ollie!"

In the back, Ollie continues to laugh. "Can't – can't help it – you're f-face – it just – it was –!" Followed by renewed peals of laughter.

"So, you got sentenced? At this hearing?"

Dave nods. "Taite made arrangements for sixty hours community service each, and if we didn't get positive feedback from our supervisors we'd get another fifty."

Kurt can't help a slightly smug grin at the thought. "Let me guess, picking up trash on the side of the highway?"

"Worse," says Dave, "animal crap."

This time it's Kurt clinging to his door and laughing uncontrollably.

"Who's it by?"

"Bloody Red Shoes, 'It's Getting Boring By the Sea.'"

"Damn it. Okay, this one!"

"MGMT, 'The Handshake'."

"…lucky guess. Next!"

"'So I Fall Again' from Phantom Planet. Ollie, this game doesn't work when you're quizzing me with my own iPod."

"You'll slip up eventually. Who sings it?"

"'Burn', by The Cure, from The Crow soundtrack, which I have on vinyl. Lollygag, give up, seriously."

"Nevaaar! Again!"

"It's…ah, crap."

"AHA, YUSS, I WIN!"

"It's 'Box' by Katy Perry, actually."

Pause.

"Dave, just wondering, why do you have Katy Perry on you iPod?"

"I swear it's not mine. Satan put it there."

"Wait, Santana?"

Awful cackling. "Love it how your brain instantly made that connection right there. And yes, Santana is totally responsible for this."

"I still don't know how she got the password for my laptop."

"Uh…"

"Ollie. Tell me you didn't."

"…I might have."

"You're so dead."

Raspberry. "Whatever. You're just cranky I was in cahoots with your beard and we hooked up that one time at that party."

"You're supposed to be on my… Hang on."

"Ollie, how do you know Santana?"

"Okay, well, there was the party Dave brought her to –"

"You hooked up with Santana?"

"We were drunk, she was bored, you weren't there. And it's not like you weren't getting your mack on, too, Mr I-got-mutual-jollies-with-Eli-Marriot."

"Who's Eli Marriot?"

"Oh, god. This is why you weren't surprised…"

"Alright, not to jump to conclusions here, but you've seen Queer as Folk, yeah?"

"Yes…"

"Picture Brian Kinney at seventeen. That's Eli Marriot."

"…O-oh."

"And Dave totally hit that. Oh my god, don't even try to deny it! Me and San SAW you sneaking off with him, ya big slut."

"OLLIE!"

Kurt is…Kurt is surprisingly comfortable, actually.

Okay, yeah, he's worried about Blaine. Of course he's worried about Blaine.

But the car is sun-warmed, even with the breeze coming in from the half open windows, and smells of leather and lemonade (and okay, dog, but that's hardly Gumtree's fault). Dave is the most at ease that Kurt has ever seen him – the most happy – and Kurt watches him, slumped comfortably back in the driver's seat with one hand at two on the wheel and the other on the doorsill, humming along to Snow Patrol with Ollie. He likes this version of Dave.

They make their way through Dave's iPod – and like the boy it's full of surprises. Snow Patrol, of course, and then The Killers, which probably isn't that surprising, but then Kurt finds a playlist called Smooth, filled with Melody Gardot and Michael Buble and someone called Bic Runga. He hits 'Ruby Nights' and a low, dreamy, sad beat finds its way to them from the Valiant's speakers.

The last that I saw
With eyes filled with rain
A waterfall of gold
It flickered on his face
(Flickered on his face)

It's slow, and melancholic, and nothing like he would usually pick for himself…but then it's nothing like he thought Dave would pick either.

Dave gives him a sidelong look, shifting a little in his seat. "Kind of heavy, don't you think? For now, I mean?"

Kurt looks over at him, a little entranced by the music. "I like it," he says, hearing the wonder in his voice.

Dave gives him a smile. "Okay, me too, but… try 'Get Some Sleep' instead. You'll like that as well, promise."

Kurt does.

They get to the chorus, and he can't stop smiling.

Stranded in June
Whistling the same old tune
But I do believe I might be having fun
I believe I might be having fun…

"…rainbow dousing rod?"

"Look, it's like I told Humbug; it's not like there's a screen in my head and a rotating green line and proximity alarms or whatever. It's more like intuition or something. And it's not like I can look at someone and instantly know they're gay or bi or that their cushions may not necessarily match their draping –"

"Cushions?"

"Okay, I was going for subtle euphemism for transgender there, but clearly I was being too clever for my own good."

"No, no. I got it."

"Thank God."

"You know trannies?"

"David, I will climb over this seat and hurt you. Don't give me that face. All the sensitivity of a golf ball, swear to god."

"For Christ sake – don't hit me! – you know transsexual people?"

"Two, for you information. You remember Matt Basinger, went to school with Dora?"

"Kelly's big brother, right?"

"Right. Well, as Facebook would have it, he's marrying Eddie Carson this fall."

"…Matt's gay?"

"No, but just after her eighteenth birthday Eddie became Adie."

"…holy crap."

"Okay, now I'm curious, who's number two?"

"…um."

"Spill it, Ollie."

"Dave's going to get really uncomfortable."

"Why? Why am I going to get uncomfortable?"

"Okay…so…there was this party, summer before sophomore year, and I distinctly remember you making out with a redhead girl, Cammie. I think you said later she was your first real kiss?"

"…"

"Yeah…so…talked to her 'bout five months later…and actually…"

"…but – but she had – she had boobs!"

"Hormone therapy's a wonderful thing, Dave…are you okay?"

"Dave? Humbug?"

"I'm just…okay, so I spent freaking forever trying real, real hard to be straight, right?"

"Uh-huh…"

"And yet despite this, I still managed to have my first kiss with someone with a penis."

"Is the irony smothering you?"

"I practically have irony-related-asthma right now."

They've three miles past Bourbon, Indiana when Ollie pipes with, "Peaches at ten!" and leans over the front seat to point to something on the side of the road.

"Oh, hell yes," Dave says, and smoothly draws the Valiant up onto the shoulder.

There's what looks like an untended stall there; open crates with pre-bagged fruit in them and a price list painted on a wide square of plywood leaning up against the table, the whole thing shaded by a deck umbrella. There's also a cast iron lock box with a slot in the top and 'no change given' in white letters on its front. When Kurt climbs out and joins Ollie and Dave examining the fruit, he can see, in smaller letters 'The Lord Thanks You For Your Honesty' on the lockbox's lid, around the slot.

"Hey, d'ya think if we got enough peaches and begged like fiends we could get your dad to make cobbler for tonight?" Ollie asks Dave. She's already digging through her wallet and pockets for change.

"Depends on how his case is going, but if he won't, Dora will."

"I know that," Ollie scoffs a little. "But it's not the same when Dora does it."

Dave laughs. "Yeah, that tone right there, use that and you'll never get cobbler again."

Kurt looks up. It's not just peaches available; there are blackberries, blueberries and handsome, if slightly small Honey Crisp apples. "You're dad bakes?"

"Yeah," Dave says, "I mean it's pretty much me and him most of the time, so…"

"Me too," Kurt murmurs. "I mean it was, until Dad and Carole got married. My dad can't really cook to save himself though – mom used to – so it was neighbor-casseroles and them me later on. Um…so your mom is…?"

"Somewhere on the east coast last time we checked," Dave gives him a rueful smile. "Which is kind of a relief, actually, since what I can remember about her cooking was that it mostly came out of cans or the freezer."

"I'm so sorry, Dave, that's…" Kurt trails off, not really sure how to react. His mom's gone – but she never wanted to leave him and his dad. What do you say to someone whose mother abandoned them?

Dave shakes his head, still smiling a little. Kurt is aware of Ollie watching them from the car as she digs through the glove-box, keeping one protective eye on Dave. "It's fine, really. I mean, she took off when I was eight, so…yeah." He scrubs one hand awkwardly over the back of neck. "Some people just aren't cut out to have kids, y'know? It's okay. My dad really was, but Mom just…wasn't."

It's the oddest thing. It's not like Dave is really defending the distant, far-removed woman, but he's not actively blaming her either. Kurt can't fathom it.

"You're okay with just your dad?" he asks, keen to steer the conversation away from absent mothers, and begins looking through the blackberries. "I know it was kind of hard for my dad, with just the two of us."

Dave offers up another smile. "Yeah. We're okay now, but he was pissed about…y'know, that stuff from school." Kurt catches the uncertain look darted at him and just nods. "It's better now, though. He was happy about the Bullywhips thing. And I think…I think he's starting to trust me like he used to."

There's a triumphant shout from the car, and Ollie emerges from the front seat bearing a twenty and a fistful of loose change.

"Cobbler is so on!" she crows. "Let's load her up, boys!"

Its evening and the sun is definitely in the west, slowly sinking towards the horizon. It's still light though, and Dave knows it will be 'til at least eight-thirty.

He's a little worried he and Ollie aren't going to manage dinner at this rate. They've still got the peaches they set aside for his dad's potential cobbler, but the blackberries, blueberries and the majority of the apples have gone the same way as the last of the lemonade…

Well, Dave will manage dinner. He's a bottomless pit. Ollie looks like she's going to drop off any minute, Gumtree groans in her sleep and Kurt is in the middle of a dreamy fructose-induced sugar high. He keeps going back to his Smooth playlist and playing stuff from Runga and Gardot and even some of the sweeter numbers from the Scott Pilgrim soundtrack and Snow Patrol. Dave smiles when he hears him singing along with 'Chasing Cars', so soft it's almost under his breath.

And then the calm is shattered.

"Dave," Ollie says with a rising note of warning in her voice. "Dave, we need to pull over right now."

"What? Why –?"

"Just do it!"

"What the hell, Ollie?"

"David Karofsky, you pull over right now, I am not going to have this dog vomit in my car!"

David wrenches the wheel and they come to a screaming stop on the shoulder, Kurt wide-eyed and clinging to the dash while the back door very nearly flies off its hinges and Ollie shoots out half-carrying a heaving Gumtree with her.

Dave is out a second later, hovering while Ollie croons to the old dog as her body bows, heaves again…and then there's a wheezing gag, wet noises and a pile of dog sick on the grass by Gumtree's feet.

Gumtree coughs once, then looks up and grins at them, tail wagging.

"What the hell what that all about?" Ollie asks her, hands on her hips. Gumtree replies by trying to lick Ollie's bare legs. "Oh, no you don't. Dave, can you hold her?"

Dave nods and grips Gummy's collar while Ollie digs under the seats and emerges with an old Frisbee. She fills it from her water bottle and leads the dog away from the puddle of puke, rubbing her side while she drinks.

"Is she okay?" Kurt asks, coming around the car.

Dave nods, and then something catches his eye. He hunts about for a second, then comes back to Kurt and begins prodding the puddle with a stick.

"David," Kurt says, voice a little higher with disgust, "what are you do– oh my god."

Dave lifts the stick, and clanking forlornly on the end is a set of keys. Unidentifiable goo drips from them, revealing the bedraggled remains of a Dior key ring.

"How…?"

Dave chews his lip. "Maybe she got them out of your bag while you were helping me pick up Blaine? Back at the Amphitheatre?"

Kurt is mortified. "Oh god, that has to be it. I remember leaving it unzipped too…" He shakes his head. "How does a spaniel manage to eat a set of keys? I mean it's not like it's a small bunch."

"That's nothing," Ollie calls over her shoulder from the rear of the car where Gumtree is lapping her way through another Frisbeeful of water. "When I was ten she ate ALL of my Barbie Picnic Van. We only figured out where it had gone when she started crapping pink and white plastic."

Dave shakes his head. "I'm real sorry about this, Kurt. I mean, we know she's always trying to eat weird stuff, and it I'd thought about it at the time…"

"No, Dave, really, this isn't your fault." He looks a little sadly at his keys. "I just hope they didn't hurt Gumtree internally or something."

"We'll get her checked out tomorrow morning," Ollie says, putting Gummy and the Frisbee back in the car. "I think she'll be okay though. Iron stomach, you know."

"I still feel like I should make this up to you," Dave mutters. Ollie rolls her eyes, and Kurt opens his mouth, but Dave continues quickly with, "do you want to stay for dinner tonight?"

Ollie stares at him, gobsmacked, but she smiles encouragingly when Kurt looks at her.

Kurt, who looks puzzled and uncertain and god, Dave wishes his mouth would just fall off sometimes.

He's about to blushingly retract the offer when Kurt, looking thoughtful now, says, "yes."

And all Dave can do is blush and smile and say back, "Cool."

AN: Okay, hoping for some feedback here, and for the love of god and rainbows and puppies with no legs, please tell me if I've mishandled some material, okay? I'd really love to not look like a douche on the internet. Or an oversensitive wally. Just an idiot in general, okay? So yeah, feedback would be awesome, if you're so inclined. And please let me know if you're confused about anything. The minimalist, only voices convos were something new for me and I tried to leave markers about who was speaking, but it's a little difficult with three voices.

Also, please forgive the rainbow shoes cameo, I just couldn't help myself.