Title: Four Ways Burt Hummel Surprised People (and one way he didn't)

Author: Spider/Crawler

Pairing,Character(s): Gen, Burt, Kurt, Figgins, Will, Quinn, Rachel, Karofsky, Mercedes

Rating: PG for a couple naughty words

Word Count: 5505

Spoilers: Season 1, nothing major.

Disclaimer: DEFINITELY not mine.

Summary: Burt doesn't look like the type of dad who'd love his flamboyantly gay son unconditionally.

Notes: This is my first foray into the Glee fandom, and of course, I have to start with one of my favorite characters. This is a response to a prompt on the Glee fluff meme.

Can I get the reaction of several people to finding out (separately) that This Huge Guy is Kurt's dad and ok with him being gay? Like, what did Mr Shuester and Principal Figgins think when Burt came to complain? I wouldn't mind 5+1 format (5 time they were surprised, 1 time they knew?) or such.

Will Schuester

I'm not gay.

Will sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't meant to overhear, but Kurt and Finn's conversation had been right there in the middle of the choir room. He couldn't not hear, packing up the music they had used in practice. That one line of Kurt's really stood out, echoing in Will's mind.

I'm not gay.

Please. Kurt wasn't gay, and Sue didn't have it out for the Glee Club.

Will was obsessing over this conversation between two of his students that had happened weeks ago, before Kurt had somehow wound up on the football team (and even more shockingly, won the game for them) because he was about to do something that terrified him.

He was about to meet Burt Hummel.

The message from Figgins hadn't been very detailed. Mr. Hummel was upset about something involving Kurt, and Will was supposed to meet them in Figgins' office right now (Brittany had told him that she was supposed to make sure he knew that right now meant it was important before bopping off to her next class). Will was just taking a few moments to compose himself before getting up.

He had seen Burt Hummel once before, at the one winning football game. Kurt had been waving enthusiastically from the bench, and Will had followed his gestures to find a giant of a man sitting in the bleachers, rather reluctantly (embarrassingly, it seemed) lifting his hand to return the gesture before covering it with a cough and adjustment of his hat. Will had winced then. Kurt was a bright kid, small and flaming, but genuinely smart and talented (he was among the best of Will's Spanish students, at least, though, to be fair, the competition wasn't tricky). From his antics at the game, his dad's approval meant a lot to him—and Burt Hummel did not look like the kind of guy who would approve of a very gay son dancing and singing in his wonderfully high voice in front of an entire auditorium of people. Kurt was a son you could be proud of, Will thought to himself, but only if you could ignore his sexuality. And his cattiness.

Figgins' office was just at the end of the hall, and Will took a deep breath. Please, please don't make it be about taking Kurt out of Glee. We need him. With that silent prayer, he stepped into view of the windows, knocked once, and entered at Principal Figgins' wave.

"Mr. Schuester, this is Burt Hummel, the father of one of your students, Kurt," Figgins said. "Mr. Hummel, this is William Schuester, head of the Glee Club."

Will gave Burt a nod and what he hoped was a friendly smile, but he could already feel the tightness in his face. It was about Glee, and Hummel looked pissed. It didn't take long for the older man to work himself into a righteous tirade.

"You can't discriminate against my kid based on his sex, religion, political affiliation, or the fact that he's queer as a three dollar bill!"

Will's mind stuttered to a halt. Wait, what?

"And I won't accept it." Hummel's voice was steady and quieter as he said that, his pale eyes fixed on the principal. It was as if Will wasn't even in the same room as him. Aside from a glance and a nod when they met, Hummel hadn't even spared Will a look. Will could only nod along to Principal Figgins as he tried to calm Hummel, floundering. So Hummel... knew the same thing everyone else did? And... and he was fighting for Kurt? So very few people ever took Kurt's side...

"You put on a blindfold and listen to my kid sing, and you will swear you're hearing Ronnie Spector."

Hummel turned and looked at Will as he spoke, for only a moment, but their eyes locked and Will felt suddenly humbled. "Wait, I..." he began, reaching out for Kurt's father.

"Don't try to backpedal on this, Schuester," Hummel said, lifting a hand to press Will away, his eyes not leaving the principal's face again, and Will's silent prayer changed.

Please let me be even half as good of a father to my little girl...

Quinn Fabray

"Oh, sorry." Quinn looked up at the man standing behind her, an open can in his hand. "Didn't realize any of you were still left."

"I'm just waiting for my ride," Quinn answered, turning back to look at the street. She was sitting on the front porch of Kurt's home, after a party for the Glee girls. Well. Glee girls and Kurt. It had been Rachel's idea, actually, but once Mercedes got the idea of a party, things could quickly spiral out of hand. Rachel didn't have room enough for all of them to meet. None of them had, but then Mercedes mentioned Kurt's basement room (which really was practically a basement apartment. All it was lacking was a kitchen). Not only was it big enough for all the girls, but it was also practically soundproof (if Kurt remembered to close the door). That was why he had moved to the basement in the first place—his dad had grown tired of his late-night rehearsals.

Of course, the only catch to have a Glee girls party at Kurt's house was that Kurt had to be invited. Quinn hadn't been sure how that would work at first—sure, Kurt was gay, but he was still a guy, but it turned out she didn't need to worry. The effeminate singer had easily kept up as they chattered about fashion and music and tried out various new ways of making up their faces. Kurt had even given Quinn the most lovely Gaga look (though he had bemoaned his lack of false lashes to really perfect things) and Santana had talked him into letting her wear his Gucci trench for a dance she taught them.

Kurt had even managed to keep up when their talk turned to guys, though there had been a slight sheen of pink covering his face. Poor boy had probably never had any chance to talk about guys in a group before, Quinn realized. It must be hard to be one of so few gay guys in the town. Even Britt and Santana didn't have it so hard—it was much more acceptable to be cuddly with another girl.

Burt Hummel had come home a few hours into the party, not doing much more than coming down a few steps just to let Kurt know he was back before beating a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him with an audible click. The girls and Kurt had looked at each other in silence for a moment before dissolving into giggles.

Burt was now taking a seat on the porch swing, pushing himself with one foot as he looked out at the dusky sky. Quinn sighed and shifted, wrapping her arms around her baby bump, wondering what the hell was taking Finn so long. Probably lost. Maybe she should call him again.

"You're Quinn, right?" Burt asked after a while. Quinn glanced up at him, startled, and Burt shrugged. "Glee's pretty much all Kurt talks about these days. Two blondes, Brittany and Quinn, and we've known Brittany for a while. That must make you Quinn."

"Yes," Quinn said, and then, bitterly, added, "the pregnant one." Her lips twisted down as she saw Burt's eyes flick to her belly and then back up.

"It's not Kurt's?"

Quinn gave a laugh at that, shaking her head. "Of course not!"

"Didn't think so," Burt said, taking another swig of his drink. "But he tried to make a joke once about getting someone pregnant. Just had to check."

Quinn smiled a little, leaning over to rest her head on the railing as she waited. The crickets were chirping, a few late-season fireflies flickering around in the yard, and the steady creeeeak, creeeeak of the porch swing giving rhythm to her thoughts.

It was strange, really, that she didn't feel too uncomfortable sitting alone with a strange man. Sure, Burt was Kurt's dad, but he was also an adult with a can of beer, and she was a quite attractive blonde. He probably thought she was really easy, since she had gotten herself knocked up. Quinn sighed, curling a leg up as best she could. The bump wasn't too annoying. Yet. Most of her clothes still fit, at least.

"You okay?"

Burt had a nice, fatherly voice. Like her father. It had just the right levels of maturity and warmth and protection. Quinn closed her eyes, resting her cheek on her knee. "Yeah." She missed her dad. Until just a few weeks ago, she had always, always been her daddy's little girl, his princess, and he had always been her hero. How could that have gone so wrong? How could he have thrown her out? She had always feared her parents' reaction, if they had found out, but she had never, not even once in her darkest nightmares, thought that they would just... just abandon her...

A hand on her back, between her shoulders, startled her out of her thoughts, and she quickly raised a hand to wipe away the tears she hadn't meant to shed. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I really am okay. Just a bit tired, I suppose..."

"Come on," Burt said, rubbing her back lightly. "The swing's more comfortable, anyway, and easier to get up from." He took Quinn's hand, helping her to her feet, and didn't let go until she was sitting on the swing. He was standing now, his beer can on the railing.

Root beer can, Quinn now realized, and she had to give a little laugh at that. She thought...

Oh, never mind what she had thought. All she had known about Burt was what Kurt had told her, that he was a mechanic and he had no taste in music. She had just assumed everything else. Were mechanics supposed to be good fathers? "I miss my dad," she murmured, setting the swing rocking with a push from her foot.

"What happened to him?" Burt asked, leaning against the wall of the house beside the swing, arms crossed loosely over his chest, looking out at the yard instead of down at Quinn. Somehow, that made it easier to talk.

"He... he threw me out," she said, twisting her hands together over her belly. "When he found out about... the baby." Burt's hand fell on her shoulder, and Quinn looked up, but the older man was still staring out at the yard. She swallowed and continued. "I'm living with Finn—my boyfriend—now. Finn and his mom. But I just... I wish my dad had..."

"He will," Burt said, after a few minutes. "You're his daughter. He can't not."

"You don't know him," Quinn muttered darkly.

"No," Burt said. "But I do know what it's like to be a dad. And to have your kid... not be what you were hoping for." He looked down at Quinn now. His eyes, she realized, were almost identical to Kurt's. "Kurt is very different from the son I imagined when he was born. And the life he's living is going to be a hard one. It's not what I wanted for him. But..." Burt's hand tightened just a little on Quinn's shoulder. "But that doesn't mean I stopped loving him. Not ever. I was... lucky enough to be able to come to terms with Kurt before he came out and told me. Your dad..." He gave a shake of his head, looking sadly at Quinn. "He didn't have that luxury, from what I've heard from Kurt. You surprised him, and he's still reeling. But you're a good kid—you Glee kids are all good kids—and he's still your dad. He's never going to stop loving you, Quinn. And he will accept you again. He just needs time."

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing around the lump in her throat. "Thank you," she whispered. Burt said nothing more, just stood with her until Finn finally pulled up.

Rachel Berry

"No, no Baby, not now, come on…" Rachel Berry pounded the palm of her hand against the steering wheel as her car continued to make that odd squealing sound. What if her Baby exploded (Baby was the car's name, after Baby Spice. The Spice Girls were created the same year Rachel was born, after all, and the things they did for female performers were simply amazing. Girl power! Spice up your life!)? It would make the headlines, for sure: Local teen star killed by exploding car. Or maybe exploding Bug. It was a much more dramatic headline, and her bright yellow VW Beetle certainly could be called a Bug. Would Finn cry? He most certainly would. Finn would miss her. And the Glee club would be horrible without her. Jesse… would Jesse cry at her funeral? Surely he'd come. She could just see him, standing beside her casket, tears sparkling in those gorgeous eyes of his. If only I hadn't left her…

A honk behind her startled Rachel out of her daydreams. The light had turned green. Hesitantly, she shifted her foot to the gas and Baby started down the road with another wail of protest. "Come on, Baby…"

There! On the left! An auto shop! Rachel whispered a quick prayer to any gods listening and eased into the lot. Okay. Auto shop. She could do this. She knew how things were run in these places. She was a girl, a young girl, and they would most certainly try to rip her off, and probably some of them would be cat-calling at her. Rachel closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and thrust her chin forward. She turned off her car, flung the door open, and stepped out.

Shoulders back, chest out, head up… Rachel set her jaw and looked squarely at the tall man approaching her. He was wiping his hands on a rag, wearing beat-up blue coveralls and a ball cap on his head. "You need some help there, Miss?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Rachel said. You're in charge here, keep the momentum going! "My car is making alarming squeals, and I would like you to look at it."

"Sure thing," the mechanic said, reaching up with a grimy hand to adjust his hat. "It'll just be…"

"And another thing!" Rachel said quickly, cutting him off. "While I may just be a young girl, I will have you know that I have not one but two dads, and if you even so much as think of giving me a bad deal or making me pay for more work than is truly necessary, you will most certainly be regretting it! We are very friendly with the local chapter of the ACLU, and my dads know some of the best lawyers in the area. Any funny business on your end, and we will take full and immediate action against you! So, Mr…" She paused to read the name off his coveralls, "Burt, you'd better just play it straight with me!"

Burt had a funny expression on his face, like he was trying to force his mouth to stay in a straight line, but Rachel didn't like that look in his eyes. It looked almost like he was laughing at her. The burly mechanic tugged his hat off, ran his hand over his shorn head, and resettled it into place. "You go to McKinley High, Miss…?"

"Rachel," Rachel said. "Rachel Berry. And yes, I do."

And now Burt was grinning. "Thought so. My son's mentioned you a few times. No one else can make the same impression as you, he says."

"Your son knows me?" Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. A secret admirer, perhaps? "He thinks I make a great impression!"

"Unforgettable," Burt said, but Rachel's mind was already whirling away. Of course! Someone at McKinley High, pining after her, too awed by her stardom and connections to get close, loving her from afar… she did have Finn already, but fans were always good things.

"Who?" she asked breathlessly, clasping her hands to her chest starry-eyed.

Burt just gestured up to the shop sign, and Rachel turned to look at it for the first time. Hummel Auto and Tire.

Hummel.

Burt Hummel.

Kurt Hummel.

"You're Kurt's dad!" Rachel stared up at the mechanic in surprise. "But you're so… and he's so…"

"He's so what?" Burt asked, raising an eyebrow (it looked so odd, coming from not-Kurt, but Rachel could see the resemblance even more now).

"He's… well… he's so gay," Rachel said. "And I mean that in a totally non-offensive way. I have two gay dads, you know. I am 110% non-homophobic." She felt something in her chest tighten as she stared up at Burt, trying to gauge his reaction. "But that's okay, because he's a fabulous singer, and you should be proud he's your son. His sexuality should not color your impression of him at all!" She didn't know why she was suddenly trying to defend Kurt, but she felt… was it pity? Her dads were so lucky to have three very accepting parents, but Rachel knew how hard it was on Dad James that his father still wouldn't talk to him after all these years of being out. Burt looked like he'd be the same way with Kurt, and much as she hated how Kurt kept trying to steal her solos and insulted her clothes and manipulated his way closer to Finn and insisted he get a share of her spotlight, she didn't want him to feel like that. He was also one of only eleven other students who would exchange smiles with her in the hall, and he did compliment her voice more frequently than any of the others (except Finn), even if he did always preface it with 'as much as it kills me to say this…'

"I thought I heard your voice. Hoped I hadn't, but thought I had."

Rachel turned quickly to see Kurt Hummel himself approaching her. He had one hand on his hip as he walked, and, like his father, was dressed in grubby blue coveralls with a cap on his head. Unlike his dad, he was also wearing what looked like extremely-well-fitting work gloves and had a bandana tied around his throat. He looked almost masculine. "What are you doing here, Rachel?"

"Car troubles," Burt said, reaching out to clap Kurt on the shoulder. "Whaddya say we give her the family discount, eh? We'll call it a… a Glee Gift sale or something."

Rachel looked between the older and younger Hummel. Burt was every inch the sort of mechanic she had expected to find, the sort who'd try to rip her off and insist her car was about to explode unless she paid him thousands of dollars… except he wasn't. And that look on his face as he looked down at Kurt… that was how her dads looked at her. Love. Acceptance. And not at all what she had been expecting. "Oh," she said quietly, taking a step back. "Oh, you didn't… you already…"

Kurt frowned at Rachel, looking puzzled but Burt just gave her a nod. "We'll take care of your car, and don't worry. No rip offs." Rachel had the decency to deflate a little, giving a sheepish smile.

"Well, you know, mechanics… young girl…"

Kurt just rolled his eyes. "We don't ever cheat people, Rachel."

"Come on," Burt said. "You need a ride?"

"I'll call my dads," Rachel said, digging out her phone. "Thanks, though."

"Come wait inside. It's too hot to stand around out here for long," Burt said, gesturing toward the shop. "Kurt, open a file, willya?"

"In a minute," Kurt said, waving his hand. "You get a space ready. I'll bring'er in."

Rachel stood awkwardly by her car, Kurt tipping his face up and squinting at the sun, as Burt headed back toward the shop. After Burt was halfway back, Kurt dropped his chin and looked at Rachel again, defiance in his blue eyes. "Are you really just here for car problems?"

"What? Yes, of course I am! I didn't... didn't even realize the name..." Rachel trailed off, shaking her head. "We usually go to Lima Car and Trucks, but..."

Kurt made a face, scrunching up his nose as if someone had just gifted him with clothing from Wal-Mart. "Ugh, LCT's just a bunch of middle-school dropouts with over-inflated prices. They don't know a torque—sorry. Yeah. They're the ones ripping you off."

Rachel giggled a little, shaking her head. "Your dad seems nice," she said, watching as Kurt seemed to lose some of his hostility. The hand on his hip was now just resting there as opposed to being firmly planted.

"Yeah, he's cool," Kurt said lightly. "So... come on. Keys. Let's get your car fixed."

Dave Karofsky

"Someone will be right with you!"

Dave's eyes widened at the sound of the familiar lilting voice in a very unfamiliar setting. What the hell was that faggot doing in an auto shop? He slammed the door to his mother's car and looked around, his eyes finally settling on the smallest of the mechanics, bent over the engine of a Toyota. Even with his back to them, there was no mistaking Kurt Hummel's flamboyance. The stupid queer had even dressed up his jumpsuit with a belt and scarf and gloves, and just the way he was standing, like he was so much better than everyone around him... definitely not standing like a proper guy would, like that big dude beside him. Karofsky sneered as the big guy reached over to ruffle Hummel's hair. Ah. That explained things. Hummel was kept around as a bit of fun for all the rest of the mechanics. A chick would be out of place here, but Hummel was practically a girl already. Probably blew 'em all in the back room during their breaks. Fucking faggot.

"Sorry for the delay." A proper mechanic was coming up beside Dave now, adjust his hat. "What's the problem?" This guy was a bit taller than Dave, but not quite so broadly built. Older, too, a real geezer.

"Karofsky," Dave said, tossing the keys over to the older guy, giving him an approving nod as the mechanic snatched them out of the air one-handed with hardly a glance. "Called you guys earlier."

"Ah, yes, problems with the brakes?"

Dave nodded. "They're just being noisy. My mom can't stand it."

"Anything else?" The mechanic's name was Bert, Dave read on his shirt. No, Burt. With a u. He shook his head.

"Nah, not with the car." He grinned suddenly, though, giving a nod toward Hummel. "Hey, you know your little shop boy over there's a fag, right?" Just in case they didn't, and Hummel was actually getting paid for this. Hummel didn't deserve to have a proper after-school job if Dave couldn't find one. He glanced over at Burt again with a grin, but his smile froze. Everything felt frozen between the older man and himself. Dave found himself scowling. This wasn't how the exchange was supposed to go. They were supposed to be properly manly about the faggot, not get the mechanic pissed off at him. "What, are you one too? Fuck in him the back during your break? Does he make it good for you?"

It was funny how, despite the noise of the garage, everything seemed to be eerily still. Dave's eyes slid back to Hummel to see the other boy was staring at him now. Even from here, he could see just how white Hummel's face was, the way his lips were parted just slightly, a look of horror on his face. That's right, Hummel. You're getting fired today! The mechanic beside Hummel was glancing between Hummel and Burt with a look of worry, and Burt...

Burt's hand was suddenly tangled in the shoulder of Dave's shirt, and he felt his back slam against the side of the car. "That faggot," Burt growled, his eyes flashing angrily, "is my son, and you will do well not to talk about him like that." As quick as Burt was in his face, he was gone, three feet away, the keys pressed back in Dave's hand. "I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do for you. You've got thirty seconds to get your car out before it needs more than just a brake job."

One last glance at Hummel showed the boy had his gloved hands over his mouth, but his eyes were still wide and staring at Dave across the garage. The guy beside him, though, was hefting his wrench in what definitely looked like a threatening manner, and Burt was cracking his knuckles.

Dave knew he was stupid, but he wasn't an idiot. He all but threw himself back into the car, swearing to himself that he'd make Hummel pay for this later.

Mercedes Jones

Hummel Auto and Tire was the best place to go if you needed anything done car-wise in Lima, and they were just around the corner from Mercedes' house. Sure, they weren't a big name-brand chain with massive markdowns in the windows, but the blue-clad mechanics were always happy to find ways to make their work affordable.

Mercedes had passed Hummel A&T every day on her way to school ever since the Hummels moved in and set up shop, but she had never thought to connect the name of the garage with Kurt Hummel, her best friend, until he had explained how his dad had gotten him his baby at a fantastic deal.

And now Kurt's baby had been taken away. He claimed it was because of the tiaras in his hope chest, but Mercedes suspected it had more to do with the massive hole she had left in the windshield. It wasn't like Kurt wore his tiaras to school the way he did his form-fitting sweaters. Kurt had adored his car, for the little time she had known them both, and Mercedes would hardly be a good friend, deserving of Kurt's deepest secret, if she didn't at least try to get it back for him.

Picking a day when Kurt was sure to not be at the garage, Mercedes dressed in her most conservative clothes, brushed her hair back, and walked down the block to the Hummels' shop. "Excuse me," she said, tapping the nearest mechanic (his name patch read 'Jason') on the elbow. "I'm looking for Mr. Hummel?"

"Big B or Junior?" Jason asked, grinning around a wad of something white.

"Uh..." Junior was probably Kurt, Mercedes figured. "Big B? Kurt's dad?"

Jason nodded. "That'd be Burt. He's inside, in the office. Just knock on the door." He gestured toward the garage and returned to his work.

The office was behind the counter, and Mercedes could make out a big guy sitting behind the desk, rubbing his forehead and twirling a pencil between his fingers as he studied some papers in front of him. He was... everything Mercedes had feared, from how Kurt came out to her. Never told anyone before? Not even his dad? Burt had to be intimidating for Kurt to keep his sexuality a secret even at home. And the man was intimidating, big and brawny and nothing at all like the sophisticated Kurt Hummel.

Still, Kurt adored his father. There had to be something good in the man. And he did give Kurt a Lincoln Navigator for his sweet sixteen. Mercedes just got a karaoke machine, a cheap one. It wasn't like Burt could possible be blind to the possibility of Kurt being gay. No one could be blind to that. Mercedes couldn't possibly find it in herself to be afraid of someone her friend loved so thoroughly.

Mercedes eased up to the door and rapped her knuckles on the frame. "Excuse me? Mr. Hummel?"

Burt looked up, raising an eyebrow, and Mercedes had to grin at the familiar gesture over familiar eyes. Yep, this was Kurt's dad. "Hi. I'm Mercedes Jones. I'm in Glee with Kurt..."

"Ah," Burt said, getting to his feet and shaking Mercedes offered hand. "Kurt's told me all about you."

"Nothing good, I'm sure," Mercedes teased, before sobering up. "Actually, probably nothing good. Did he tell you I'm the one who busted his window?"

"No..." Burt said slowly, raising his other eyebrow. "He told me someone threw a rock at him."

"Well, it was a rock," Mercedes said, dropping her gaze. "But he wasn't in the car, he was beside it. I wasn't trying to hurt him. Well, I was, but not, you know, like hit him or anything. I... kinda sorta thought he'd been leading me on... hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and all that, you know?" She sighed, shaking her head. "Look... I wanted to apologize. I already apologized to him, and he forgave me, but... he said you took his car away."

Burt gave a nod, and Mercedes soldiered on. "Sir, if you took his car away because I smashed in the window, please, that wasn't his fault. I was being stupid and petty, and I'm willing to pay for a replacement, full price."

"Did he tell you that?" Burt asked slowly.

Mercedes shook her head. "No, he said you took his baby away because of his tiaras, but really, Kurt would never wear a tiara in public. They're lovely and all, but really only appropriate for wedding attire. Or beauty pagents. Kurt's classier than that." She watched as Burt sat back down again, rubbing his face. "And if you did take his car away because of the tiaras, that's a pretty stupid reason to do so..."

"It wasn't the tiaras," Burt said, pulling his hand over his face and looking tired. "It's just not safe."

"For what? Kurt to have his own car? He's a great driver. He told us you taught him when he was thirteen, and he works here sometimes, so he knows how to fix it himself, right?"

Burt shook his head. "It's not that. It's... Kurt said someone had thrown a rock at him-"

"I told you, that was me, at it wasn't at him, just at his car, and I'll never, ever do something that stupid again!"

Burt held up his hand. "Doesn't matter who threw it, or at what. Fact is, it's not unreasonable to think that people'd throw things at him. Especially in this town." His voice was dark with memories, Mercedes was sure. You and your friends threw pee balloons at me. She winced at little, remembering Kurt's tone when he said that to Finn. "It was you this time. Not trying to hurt him. But next time? What if he's driving, and gets a brick thrown at his face? Or if someone messes with his brakes... Yeah, he can fix it, but he has to know it's wrong, first." Burt shook his head again, looking over at Mercedes. "Look. I'm not happy that you busted my kid's windshield, but he's not getting it back because you apologized. There's too much to risk."

"No chance at all?" Mercedes asked quietly.

"No chance at all," Burt repeated.

Mercedes sighed, her shoulders slumping. So much for getting Kurt his car back.

"Look... Mercedes?" Burt waited for her nod before continuing. "Thanks for stopping by. For telling me what happened. I'm still not happy you busted his window, but I'm glad it was just over a spat between the two of you, and not... not something else. If Kurt set you up for this,"

"He didn't," Mercedes protested. "I came myself. Had to do something to deserve his friendship."

Burt smiled a little. "If Kurt hears about this," he amended, "go ahead and tell him that he'll get his car back when I decide he can get his car back, and not sooner."

"I'll do that, Mr. Hummel," Mercedes said, turning toward the door. She hesitated, one foot out of the office, and looked back at Burt. "Mr. H?" Burt glanced over, and Mercedes offered him a tiny smile. "You're a good dad." Burt just huffed and waved her out of his office.