The work on the house was finished by mid-August.

The crews packed up and left, taking the couch that Kurt hated so much with them, leaving nothing but gleaming new appliances, fresh paint, and a beautifully refinished floor behind. When Blaine had done his final walk-through with Kurt, the emptiness had reminded him that the end of their time together was drawing near. Kurt had been giddy about finally seeing everything done, but Blaine had been forced to fake his enthusiasm.

Kurt busily began the process of moving furniture back in and decorating. Blaine wasn't able to see him very often anymore during the day, since he and his crew had moved onto a new project, but each night he left the Anderson and Sons parking lot and turned left towards Kurt's house instead of right towards his apartment. Their nightly routine remained the same, but it felt different. Each night he crawled into bed beside Kurt and swore he could hear the ticking of a clock, counting down to the time when Kurt would have to leave.

Every once in a while, Blaine caught a glimpse of Kurt staring into space with a sad expression and knew that he, too, was noticing and dreading the passage of time, but by unspoken agreement they didn't talk about it.

After a week and a half of puttering around, Kurt finally declared the house finished and decided to throw an impromptu house warming party for the friends he and Blaine had made in town. An hour before the party, Blaine went back to his apartment to change and at the last second decided to put on a gorgeous suit that Kurt had designed just for him. He'd had his people in New York whip it up from a sketch he emailed them and had given it to Blaine "just because."

He walked up to the front door, holding a wrapped gift in one hand and rubbing the other against his pant leg to wipe away the moisture. He had news to tell Kurt, but he didn't know how to bring it up.

The party was in full swing when he arrived and it was an hour or so before he was able to pull Kurt aside to give him his gift.

"For you."

Kurt took the awkwardly wrapped bundle. "You didn't have to."

"Of course I did," Blaine said softly. "You might be selling this place, but it's still a housewarming party and what's a housewarming party without a housewarming gift?"

It took Kurt only a few seconds to rip away the paper to unveil a weathervane in the shape of a whale spouting water from his blowhole.

"It's perfect!" Kurt cried, running his hands over the upraised tail. "It's just what I was looking for."

"One of the guys will come out tomorrow and put it up. Then the house will really be complete."

They were interrupted by a new arrival who wanted a tour of the house, which Kurt was only too happy to give. In the living room, Blaine could see Emily and Jyoti whispering as they ran their hands over the built-in bookcase, the real estate agents in them unable to resist trying to assign a monetary value to the improvements Kurt had made. Blaine had the uncharitable thought that they were like ambulance chasing lawyers, not even waiting until the body was cold before swooping in to offer up their services. He sighed sadly and tried to think happy thoughts. It wasn't their fault Kurt was leaving. It was no one's fault.

The party petered out around midnight and Kurt and Blaine stayed out on the front porch after they'd walked the last person out, enjoying the respite from the slightly stuffy house.

"Okay, spill." Kurt crossed his arms and looked at Blaine with a crooked eyebrow. Blaine's only answer was a questioning look. "I could tell all night that you've got something to say. Don't ever play poker. You don't have the face for it."

Blaine drew in a deep breath to hide his aching heart. "I got information today on my next assignment for work. It looks like I'm going to be going to St. Louis after this." He remembered how the bottom had dropped out of his stomach at hearing the news. He'd been so certain that he would be going to New York in January.

At first, there was only silence. "Why?"

"The manager there has to retire at the end of the year for health reasons and dad wants to take the opportunity to revamp the whole office." Blaine tried to sound halfway excited about the plan.

"St. Louis isn't that far from New York." The slump of Kurt's normally so straight shoulders said it all. "I bet there are some cheap flights."

"Sure." They'd already talked about how long distance relationships didn't work. They both knew they were grasping at straws. "So, are you still going to sell? You looked torn in there when someone mentioned it."

Kurt pulled a dead leaf from a bush beside the porch and crushed it between his fingers. "I'd love to keep it, but I'd get out here maybe one week a year at most. A house this gorgeous deserves to be lived in and loved. It needs a full time family."

The subtext was painted in neon colors.

"You could rent it out."

"No, I think a clean break is best. I'll hurt less, in the long run."

Bright pink neon.

=^..^=

Kurt was packed up and ready to go. He would probably have to spend an hour or more in line for the ferry, but he and Blaine had both agreed to say goodbye at the house and not make a spectacle of themselves in front of all the campers and tourists who'd be waiting with him.

"Have you got everything?" Blaine asked, eyeing the back of the car, which only held one large suitcase and a carry-on, doubtfully.

"I shipped the rest home yesterday. Mail's cheaper than airline extra baggage fees."

Blaine rubbed a hand absently back-and-forth over Kurt's back. "Make sure to get lots of sleep on the plane. You don't want to be cranky for your first day back in the office tomorrow."

"I will." Kurt could feel the emotion bubbling up, so he pursed his lips together and bit in the inside of his cheek. He wanted to wait until he was back in his apartment before he fell apart. "Text me, okay? Maybe you can come out to New York over the holidays. New York is magic at Christmas."

"Okay." Blaine's jaw was clenched as he stared down at the pavement. "Sounds great. Maybe we'll go see the Rockettes."

Kurt nodded and turned towards the car. He'd taken only a few steps before he dropped his messenger bag to the ground and spun around. He flung his arms around Blaine's neck and held on for dear life. "Come with me. Please."

He felt Blaine breathe deeply into his hair. "I can't, Kurt. My father…"

"I know, I know." Kurt sniffed and straightened his shoulders. "Sorry. Passing moment of weakness. Don't mind me."

He opened the car door and threw his bag into the passenger seat. He turned, resting his back against the roof, his arms braced on the top of the door. "You know, your father got to follow his dreams. I know you love him and want to make him proud, but you can't live your life for him. You're allowed your own dreams." Blaine just stood still, looking sad, so Kurt rushed on. "I'm so, so glad I met you and I don't regret my decision to stay for one second. I would rather have 30 minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special."

Blaine let out a sound that was part laugh and part sob. "Kurt Hummel, did you just quote Steel Magnolias to me during our touching farewell?"

Kurt wiped away a tear with the back of his hand as he grinned. "I do declare, I don't know what you're talking about," he said in a horrible Southern accent.

The alarm sounded on Kurt's phone, telling him it was time to leave for the ferry line. There was one last kiss and one last hug and suddenly he was driving away, watching as Blaine got smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror until finally he could no longer see him at all.

=^..^=

It was good to be back in New York.

The city had felt like home since the first time Kurt had visited in high school and it still did, though it wasn't quite the same since he'd returned from Washington. The bagels didn't taste quite as delicious, the streets seemed extra crowded with tourists, and the always present energy seemed a little dimmed.

Everything seemed a little…less without Blaine.

They spoke at least several times a week and texted each other often, but after being together almost every day for six months being alone again had been a big adjustment.

To his great relief, Kurt found that his design muse was still with him (in fact, he'd been so prolific since he'd returned that he'd decided to go ahead with the second clothing line), but in every other area of his life he felt mopey and listless.

The house sold in late September, after less than a month on the market. Kurt cried the day he signed the paperwork. Irrationally he'd felt that as long as he still owned it, he had an extra connection to Blaine.

In the three months since they'd last been together, Kurt had been one button click away from buying a plane ticket to Seattle more than once, but something always held him back. Like an alcoholic who wanted just one more drink, he knew that if he broke down and saw Blaine he would have to start the detox process all over again. It might help his momentary craving, but it wouldn't be worth it in the long run. Maybe after more time passed they would be over the worst and might be able to be just friends.

Kurt knew that Santana had noticed his ennui, but it wasn't until late November that she actually said something. He was sitting in his office, erasing the collar on the sketch of a jacket for the umpteenth time, when she came in and shut the door.

"Okay, I've left you alone to do the lovelorn wallow, but this is the second time this week that you've worn that outfit, so I think it's time for an intervention." She sat down on the edge of his desk and pulled the pencil from his hand so that she had his undivided attention. "I read on the internet that I need to do this using 'I' statements, so here goes. I think that job security aside," she gestured to the stack of designs he was working on, "you're actually in a worse place than when you left. I feel like I've been working with a ghost for the past three months, so now I'm seriously considering hiring you a companion for the evening to take the edge off."

"If you do, then I'm going to have find another office manager." Kurt snatched the pencil back and returned to working on the stubborn collar.

"Hey, how about if we go out on the town tonight? It's been too long since I've had the chance to get my groove on. Come on," she coaxed, "you know I'm an amazing wing man. Let's go find you a hot piece of ass to take your mind off things."

Kurt tossed the pencil down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Santana, I'm just not ready, okay? Blaine was more than a little fling and it's going to take a while to get over this. That's just the way it is and there's nothing you can do to change that."

Santana hung her head, her hair swinging forward to hide part of her face. "I'm sorry, I guess the whole 'take a trip to get your life in order' thing was a bad idea. I shouldn't have forced you to leave. It wasn't worth it."

"No, it was totally worth it." He looked over at his computer, which even now had a tab open to an airline page with Seattle set as the destination, and sighed.

=^..^=

It was December 23rd and the first snow of the year was falling softly outside. Kurt couldn't remember the last time they'd had a white Christmas in New York, so he hoped it would stick around and not melt away too quickly. Maybe he'd grab a few friends in the morning and try and go for a walk in Central Park before the dogs (and other's best left unmentioned) yellowed the pristine landscape.

He was in the middle of cooking dinner (something he rarely did anymore, since cooking for one was just no fun and only resulted in leftovers that would get thrown away) when the image of his little crockpot back in Port Townsend and all the meals he'd made for Blaine popped into his mind.

He hoped salty tears didn't ruin the flavor of his chicken.

He was just about to sit down to eat when the doorbell rang. Thinking that it was his neighbor, who was always asking to borrow milk or eggs because she was too lazy to go to the store, Kurt stomped over to the door, grumbling the whole way. He pulled the door open to find a red poinsettia where he would have expected a face to be. The plant, with its festive bow, lowered down to reveal Blaine, who was looking damp, but happy.

"Blaine! What are you doing here?" Kurt gasped in surprise.

Blaine grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way that Kurt loved. "I heard New York was the place to be at the holidays, so I thought I'd check it out."

Snowflakes were melting in Blaine's hair and on his eyelashes, making Kurt's fingers itch to brush them away. He stepped back into the apartment and ushered for Blaine to follow. "But are you…I mean, how long…"

Blaine dropped his bag at his feet and nudged the door closed with his toe. "I decided to take your advice. I'm following my own dream. I decided to quit my job and had just about worked up the courage to go through with it when my dad called. We were talking about something else when out of nowhere he casually said that he has this new manager at corporate headquarters who's a real go-getter and how he'd be such a great second in command, if I ever wanted to leave the company. He gave me an out, Kurt. I don't know why, but…"

Kurt thought about the look he'd seen on Douglas' face as he'd watched Blaine sing at the party back in July. "Maybe he just realized that he has an amazing son who can set the world on fire, if given the chance to shine."

A flush crept over Blaine's cheeks at the compliment. "I thought that maybe I'd try to get back into performing. I've got a few friends from high school in the music business here in New York. Who knows what could happen."

"Connections are good," Kurt said breathlessly, his heart beating so loudly in his chest he was surprised the walls weren't vibrating in time.

"Speaking of which," Blaine glanced up at Kurt through his eyelashes, "do you know anyone who might have a spare room I could stay in while I look for a place here in the city?"

"No." Blaine looked dismayed at Kurt's response. He opened his mouth to respond, but Kurt laid a finger across his lips to stop him. "But I know someone who has a room that you can have forever."