Author's Note: Don't know anything, don't know anyone, and certainly don't own anything. Please feel free to review with praise, constructive criticism, etc.

01 - Born This Way

Will Schuester walked through the open science classroom to the small office connecting the classroom to the science lab. He paused to knock on the door before swinging it open just slightly. "Hey, D, you got a sec?"

"Sure, Will," the science teacher answered, looking up from the papers he was grading. "Just trying to get these papers done so I can actually have a three day weekend this time. What's up?"

"Know that feeling!" Will said nodding as he fully entered the room. "Well, now that we've won Regionals, Figgins wants us to do another performance for the student body," Will said, scratching at the back of his head.

"Trying to top the alcohol awareness gig, huh?"

"Don't remind me!" Will said, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry," said the slightly younger man with a weak smile. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I know you're great with computers," Will began, "and the AV Club has all that gear in the auditorium that's computer controlled. Plus the kids say you've got some lasers in that lab of yours..."

"Maybe. Are we talking a simple light show, or going for all out shock and awe?" he asked with a grin.

"Well how do you top projectile vomiting?"

"Ah," he said, both of them grimacing. "I'll come over in a few and we'll see what we can come up with."

"Look, Santana, we really need to talk," Sam said frowning. He pulled her into the science classroom checking to see that it was deserted.

She pushed him up against the cabinet at the front of the room, slowly grinding against him and pinching his cheeks. "What is it my little guppy mou..."

"Santana, please!" he said pulling her hands away from his face. She frowned at him. "I ... Santana, I'm sorry, but this just isn't working."

"What?" she said, pulling away from him and crossing her arms over her chest. "Is this because of Trouty Mouth?"

"No ... yes ... sort of," he lowered his head, shaking it. "I just... Look, Santana," he said looking back up into her face, "I really do like you. I even love you in a way, even though this ... relationship mainly began just to make us both more popular."

"But?" she said, glaring at him and starting to tap her foot.

"But," he said, stepping forward and taking her hands in his. "I just can't do this anymore. I can't pretend anymore," he said shaking his head. "I've done all sorts of crap to try to make myself more popular, to make myself happier. I work out constantly to try and stay in shape. I try to watch what I say. I've completely changed my personality. Hell I even bleached my hair."

She snickered slightly.

Sam sighed and continued, "I've done just about everything that I could think of to be who and what people think I should be, but there are just some things that I can't change. And, yes, my big, guppy, trouty mouth lips are one of them. I was born this way." Santana opened her mouth to protest, but he put his hands up to quiet her and continued. "It's not just you saying stuff about my mouth; people have commented on it forever. You're my girlfriend, though, and when I tell you it bothers me ... you shouldn't tell me to shut up."

Her smirk finally became a frown. "Sam ... I. So you're dumping me because I tease you?"

"Santana, it's not the teasing, I just need ... more," Sam said, a pained expression on his face. "The physical stuff between us is great ... beyond great even, but I want someone that I can talk to about stuff. Someone who'll talk to me about stuff ... and you're just not ready for that."

The expression on her face was unreadable, somewhere between fury, shock and disbelief. "What is it with you and Brit and talking?"

"Look," he said, "you can tell everyone that you kicked me to the curb if it helps. I just can't pretend anymore. Being popular was supposed to make me feel better, but I'm just second guessing everything I say, everything I do, and the effort is just ... it's just too much to keep up with. I really don't want to hurt you, but I can't keep up the mask much longer. It's probably better that you break up with me now before I start babbling about comics and Star Wars in Na'vi again."

"I guess you are right there," she said, her face a bit less stony. "So, I am the one breaking up with your ass, right?"

Sam nodded solemnly.

"And I am the best you've ever had, right?"

"Without a doubt," he said, a slight grin spreading across his lips.

"Okay, but one last hug, froggy limbs," she said opening her arms. Sam smiled and obliged. "Not a word of this to anyone, or so help me..." she whispered in his ear.

"Not a word, I promise," he whispered back.

Her hands slid from his shoulders to his butt cheeks, and giving them both a sharp pinch, she pulled away. "Too bad ... you're gonna miss this!" she said, sliding her hands down her figure then smacking her own butt as she left the room.

Sam leaned back against the cabinet, shaking his head. Oh yeah, I will.

"Excuse me."

Sam shook himself from his reverie and looked toward the doorway. The visitor stood there, brushing back a few stray locks of dark blond hair. Sam noted that it was roughly the shade of his own natural color.

"I'm sorry, can I help you?" Sam said picking himself up and moving toward the doorway.

"Yeah, I'm looking for ... Mr. Deen," the stranger said.

"Uh, this is his room, but he doesn't seem to be here right now."

"Well at least I got the right room, huh?"

"Yeah," Sam laughed. "Wait, Mr. Schue said something about asking him for help with our next performance, so he may be over in the auditorium. I'm headed that way. I can take you over there if you'd like."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate it."

"No problem," Sam said grabbing his backpack and leading the way down the hall.

Sam entered the practice room to find the rest of the glee club milling around. The girls were gathered around the piano; Rachel and Tina seated on the bench playing various combinations of notes. The boys were huddled in chairs on the risers looking over sheet music.

"Hey guys!" Sam said, dumping his backpack on the nearest chair. "Has anyone seen Mr. Schue or Mr. D?"

"They were in the auditorium checking on that new AV stuff," Artie said, his eyes traveling up to the stranger standing behind Sam.

Actions ceased as they all, especially the girls, examined the sight before them. The stranger stood with his beige jacket thrown over his shoulder. The light plaid of his fitted shirt stretched over the toned muscle beneath.

"Who's your friend Sam?" Mercedes asked her eyes wide.

The stranger looked over toward the girls running his hand through his hair.

"He's looking for Mr. D," Sam said.

"Damn his eyes are blue!" Lauren said under her breath.

"You made it all the way up to his eyes?" Quinn asked, breathless.

The stranger arched an eyebrow and looked back toward Sam. Taking his jacket from his shoulder he folded it over his arm.

"Uh, the auditorium is this way," Finn said quickly ushering him toward Schuester's office, the most direct way from the practice room to the auditorium.

"Yeah, this way," said the rest of the boys. They looked over their shoulders to their ogling girlfriends as they put themselves between the girls and the 'invader'.

"So, you think it'll work?" Schuester asked, opening the outer door to his office.

"Yeah I think we can come up with something."

They both stopped as they realized that the glee boys were shoving someone in through the opposite door.

"Guys, whoa!" Schuester said.

"Danny?" said the stranger.

Deen looked at the stranger, his eyes growing wider. "Derrick! Oh my God, what are you doing here?"

"I was ... in the neighborhood?" Derrick said with a shrug. Dropping his jacket onto Schuester's desk he hugged Deen tightly.

"Okay, kinda creepy," Puck said, backing out of the office forcing the others to follow suit. They each quickly moved to intercept their female counterpart, determined to end the ogling and thus the threat to their territory.

The only one not being actively distracted by one of the boys, Santana inched closer to the door. "Damn! I know I've seen me some of that before, but I can't remember where. Oh man, looks like he might be taken though."

"Santana, be nice!" Sam whispered.

"Well they are awfully buddy, buddy, in there."

Sam watched as Deen and his visitor left Schuester's office through the outer door, their arms draped across one another's shoulders. Interesting, Sam thought.

"All right, guys!" Schuester said, clapping his hands. "Let's get some work done. We have some shows to prepare for."

Kurt sat in the Warbler practice room, distractedly flipping through his sheet music. He didn't even notice as Blaine walked in and sat on the sofa beside him.

"Kurt?" Blaine said eventually.

"Hmm?" Kurt said, finally looking up. "Oh, Blaine. When did you get here?"

"About five minutes ago."

"Really?" Kurt asked astonished.

"Are you alright?" Blaine said with a concerned smile.

"Yes, I just..." Kurt sighed.

"You know you just haven't seemed very happy since Regionals," Blaine said with concern. "Was it losing there ... or losing Pavarotti?"

"No. Oh, I don't know," Kurt said. "I'm just not feeling that with it anymore. I mean I loved Pavarotti, but ... he was just a bird."

Blaine looked at him, his beautiful triangular eyebrows bunching together.

Kurt sighed again. "Okay, it did remind me of losing my mom, he's the first ... 'person' I've lost since her, but that's not what's really getting to me."

"Is it losing at Regionals and not continuing on in competitions?" Blaine asked. "I'm mean, like I told you we'll still have other performances."

"Oh, gee, more Blaine and the Pips." Blaine looked at him with a hurt expression. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm just feeling a little ... stifled."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, placing his arm around Kurt and pulling him closer. "I didn't realize that it was this bad."

"Well I mean the blazers are great, the red piping really sets them off," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "But I would kill to throw down with Rachel or Mercedes in a diva-off!" Kurt huffed.

"I'm sorry."

"You said that."

Blaine pulled him over and kissed his temple.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. That was unfair."

"It's okay, I understand." Blaine kissed him again, this time on the lips.

There was a huge dopy grin plastered across Kurt's lips as they pulled apart. "I will never get tired of that."

"I certainly hope not," Blaine said smiling at him. "So, the question is, what do you want to do? What can we do to make you happier? More duets, a solo or two?"

"I really don't know, but I could get used to this," Kurt said as he leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder. "The duets aren't bad as long as I have a good partner."

Someone tapped Kurt on the shoulder and he turned to see who it was. When there was no one there, he shrugged and turned back toward Blaine, only to find Nick's face instead of Blaine's. He let out a little squeak.

"Hi!" Nick said grinning. "You guys really need to get a room!"

Jeff hopped over the back of the couch to land on the sofa cushion beside Blaine, his bleach blond hair landing in his eyes. Brushing it back, he said, "Yeah, you really need a room."

"Sorry guys," Kurt said as Nick came around to sit on the arm of the sofa beside him. "Does it really bother you that we're ... you know."

"Hell yes," Nick said. "Some of us don't have girlfriends and those of us who do ... uh it's an all boys school, so we don't get to see them until after practice!"

"So unfair!" Jeff said laughing.

Blaine shoved him playfully, "Well you're just going to have to deal ... or switch teams." Blaine winked at him.

"Only if I can have Kurt," Jeff said grinning.

"Sorry, he's taken," Blaine said quickly.

"Besides I'm a little more into ... dark and handsome than blonde and beachy keen," Kurt said.

"Hey what happened to tall?" Blaine said, a pout on his lips.

"Sweetie, you're shorter than me," Kurt said patting him on the shoulder.

"Hey, I was born this way! Besides I'm taller than most."

"You're shorter than me," Jeff said plainly.

"I'm taller than some then... I'm taller than Nick!"

"Hey leave me outta this!" Nick said throwing his hands up.

"Hey you can help a guy out. You know I've helped you out!" Blaine said laughing. "You never thanked me for those two phone numbers from the girls at the warehouse, by the way."

A dreamy grin spread across Nick's face. "Oh, thank you. Thank you very much."

"Which one did you end up going out with by the way?" Blaine asked smiling.

"Both of them," Jeff said, glaring over at Nick.

"What?" Blaine and Kurt both said.

"Hey, I just asked them both out," Nick said, "and they both just happened to say yes. I'm just waiting to see which one it works out with."

"Just," Blaine said. "Do not lead those poor girls on. I felt bad enough having to tell them I was on the wrong team."

"I'm not, we're just playing it by ear," Nick assured him.

"Ear my rear," Jeff said rolling his eyes.

They were interrupted by the chairman's gavel at the front of the room. They all looked over as Wes called them to order.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Wes began, "we have some business to discuss, and some of us have plans that we'd like to get to after this meeting."

"You mean your date," David said looking sideways at him.

"Well others of us could have had dates too," Wes told him slightly under his breath. "I did recommend flowers; you were the one who decided on poetry." Wes punctuated the last word with air quotes, gaining himself a kick in the ankle.

Blaine couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm so glad I have you," he whispered in Kurt's ear.

"Me too," Kurt whispered back.