This isn't ModelBehavior!Blaine, although I've used the same name for his mother, and it certainly isn't the Model Behavior universe.

I don't speak Tagalog. I am very grateful to sheenamarieanne for correcting my usage. Also, this is a story wherein someone tells a story, and I'm not sure I have it formatted the best way. I hope it isn't too confusing.

"It's really great to be back in good old Westerville for a few days," Blaine sighed, relaxing into his mother's embrace. The hug had gone on for quite a while, but Blaine made no attempt to pull away, perfectly content to bask in her warmth for as long as she wanted, her joined hands pressing tightly into his back. "You give the best hugs in the world," he added. "It must be some kind of mother thing. I always feel renewed after one of your hugs. I love touring and the fans are great, but no one hugs as well as you do."

Tamera drew back so she could look him in the eye, examining his face carefully. Perhaps he was ready. "Come sit down," she said, taking him by the hand and drawing him into the living room. "I want to tell you a story."

He gazed at her curiously. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course," she replied serenely. She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion until he sank down beside her. "Many generations ago, your many-times-great-grandmother Tala, whose name means Morning Star, had a dream. It was a dark dream, very mysterious. In the dream she was tired and knew she had traveled a long way because her feet were sore, but she felt compelled to continue on, always in pursuit of something just ahead, out of sight. She didn't know what she was chasing, but she knew she had to have it or she would surely die."

"I've never heard this story before, have I?" Blaine asked softly.

Tamera shook her head. "Tradition holds that this story not be told until the listener is ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?"

"You'll see," she replied somewhat cryptically. "For now, just listen." Blaine nodded and she continued, dropping back into the lilting tones she used for storytelling. "When Tala woke in the morning she was a little uneasy but didn't feel the need to mention her dream to anyone. She went about her daily chores helping her mother with the household as usual, filling the air with song as she worked. Everyone in the village said Tala had the most beautiful voice they had ever heard, so beautiful that even the birds would stop singing to listen. Whenever they told her she had a rare gift, she thought they were teasing her or just trying to flatter her influential father, but she loved music of all kinds and was truly unable to remain quiet for long. By the time night fell, she had forgotten all about the dream. She bade her family goodnight and lay down on her mat, falling asleep almost immediately. Again she dreamed, more vividly than the night before. When she woke in the morning her legs ached just as if she had been walking all night. When she told her parents about her dream, they agreed that it might be an omen and if it happened again, she would need to consult the old woman who lived in a cave high on the slope of the mountain. Of course she dreamed for a third time that night."

"This sounds like it could be a Disney movie," Blaine interjected, "dreaming three times and wise women who live in caves. All it needs is a villain and a faithful companion."

"Fairy tales draw from life, Blaine. There's a reason things always come in threes in the old tales," Tamera replied seriously. "There's more to the world than most people know. Now, do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Hey, I love Disney movies. I wasn't criticizing or poking fun."

Mollified by his obvious sincerity, Tamera continued. "According to tradition, persons seeking the advice of Lola sa Bundok, the Grandmother on the Mountain, must come alone bearing a gift entirely of their own making. The gift didn't need to be large or valuable but it must come from the heart. There were numerous stories of querents being unceremoniously turned away either for coming with an entourage or bringing a gift that someone else had crafted. Tala's parents were very sad. Their beautiful daughter was only fifteen years old, very young to be traveling such a distance alone, but like all parents, they wanted her happiness and safety more than anything and so they set their fears aside and made preparations for her journey. They well knew the power of dreams and how difficult they were to interpret correctly. Tala's dream seemed to foretell danger, but only the old woman would be able to tell the true meaning and what action, if any, they should take."

"They let their fifteen-year-old daughter travel all by herself because of a dream?" Blaine exclaimed incredulously. "Just like that? You guys didn't let me go to Columbus by myself until I was seventeen."

"It's a story, Blaine. Just go with it," Tamera said patiently. "Anyway, this was a long time ago, and things were different then." She extended an arm in invitation and Blaine snuggled into her side as he had done so many times before, not without a little difficulty since he was quite a bit taller at twenty-six than he had been at eight. When he was settled, she continued. "It wasn't as daunting to set off on a journey alone in that place and time. She could carry dried fish with her and there would be fruit to pick along the way. There were sparkling streams for water and the weather would be kind, so her main concerns would be loneliness and the occasional wild animal. The mountainous terrain would be a challenge but she was strong and had the confidence of youth. If all went well, she would be back home with an answer in three or four days. She took the bag of food her mother prepared and the staff her father had cut for her and bade her family goodbye. 'Be safe my daughter,' her father said, clasping her around the shoulders. Her mother hugged her fiercely, hiding her tears. 'Stay strong and do not falter. When you are weary,' she said almost like a blessing, 'use my strength. Let my love carry you forward and smooth your path.' Tala gave a crooked smile, forcing back tears of her own. 'I love you both', she said. Then she gathered her belongings and headed out.

"It was easy at first, even pleasant. There was a well-worn path to follow and the ground was mostly flat. As she walked, she kept an eye out for things to fill the basket she was bringing as her gift. She had gathered the vines alone and made the basket in secret, intending it to be a gift for her mother. She lined it with fragrant leaves and gathered the choicest of fruit that grew at the lower altitudes, covering it with more leaves to keep it fresh until the following day, being careful to thank the trees for their help. She just hoped the Lola would find it worthy. She spent the first hour or so going over the dream in her head, trying to recall every detail. The Lola would expect a full description, and something that seemed insignificant to Tala might be the key to the whole thing. After that she tried to walk in silence, for the area contained predators both feline and canine and attracting their attention was never a good idea, but she soon found herself singing as she went, the music somehow making her steps lighter.

"She didn't stop to eat, preferring instead to nibble as she went. As the afternoon wore on, the slope of the land gradually increased and she was glad when it began to get dark and she could stop for the night. Clouds heavy with rain had gathered but Tala found a fallen log with a hollowed-out space under it that had clearly been used by other travelers for shelter. One side was against a large rock and the ground was slightly elevated. She took her staff and gouged a channel to encourage the rain to run away from the opening, crawled inside and fell into an exhausted sleep."

"Is this where the villain comes in?" Blaine asked excitedly, completely caught up in the story, "or maybe she tames a lion to be her faithful companion."

"It would have to be a tiger. This is Asia, not Africa," Tamera chided gently, "but no, no villain and no companion, I'm afraid. The night was quiet except for the dream which returned yet again. She wasn't sure what it meant to have a dream four times. After all, three was the mystical number. Four was just four. Maybe she should go home. Maybe the Lola would say her dream was nothing special after all. Maybe the Lola would even be angry at being disturbed for such a trivial reason. There were those who said that the Lola had certain powers - the power to grant wishes and bestow blessings if she was pleased, the power to lay a curse if she was angered. Tala wasn't sure she believed this. It seemed more likely that the Lola was just a very wise old woman who gave good advice, but magical or not, Tala didn't want to bother the old woman. She was all set to turn back when she remembered her mother's words. Squaring her shoulders, she emerged from under the log and started onward again.

"She could tell from her surroundings that she was getting closer. The air was a little cooler and the vegetation had changed to plants she didn't recognize, branches heavy with unfamiliar fruit dripping from the rain that had fallen in the night. Rather than risk making herself sick, she decided to eat only the foods her mother had provided unless she saw something she recognized. Perhaps if she pleased the Lola, she would tell her what was safe to eat. If not, she could certainly go hungry for a day or two if necessary.

"The path was much more rocky and uneven now, and slick with rain. She proceeded carefully, for if she injured herself and was unable to go on, it would be days before anyone started to look for her. Afterwards, she was never sure what had happened. She was scaling a small cliff, not really very high at all. Maybe her foot slipped. Perhaps a rock, loosened by the rain, shifted under her weight. Whatever the reason, she lost her grip and suddenly found herself falling. She tumbled several yards before coming to rest against a large boulder. Her clothes were ripped and muddy and there was a long scrape on her right leg, but she was relieved to find that nothing was broken, at least no part of her body. The basket, however, hadn't fared as well." She paused, just as she always had when Blaine was little.

"Was it ruined?" he asked breathlessly.

"It wasn't ruined, but one side was crushed and the fruit was bruised. There wasn't any way to repair it or replace the fruit and she had come too far to give up now, so she cleaned herself as best she could and continued on. Her leg hurt so her progress was slower. She was forced to find a way around some of the larger rocks and that made the journey longer, but she kept going. Whenever she felt like it was too much, she would picture her mother's face, imagine her arms surrounding her and keeping her safe, and soon she would feel well enough to go on.

"To Tala, it felt like hours and hours had gone by, but the sun had barely passed its zenith when she came upon the mouth of the cave. Outside was an old woman, a crone really. Her hair was long and white, and her skin was a maze of wrinkles but all Tala could focus on was her eyes. They were the most amazing eyes she had ever seen. They were blue, and then they weren't. She would have sworn they were green, but then they were gray."

"Wait a minute," Blaine interrupted, sitting up to face his mother. "Wasn't she Pinoy? How could she have blue eyes or green or gray ones, especially if this was hundreds of years ago when the people were isolated from outsiders?"

"Blue eyes are rare, but not unknown," Tamera replied calmly. "Believe or not, as you choose. I'm telling you the story the way my ina, my mother, told it to me, and her mother, and her mother before her. Perhaps you will tell it to your own child one day."

Blaine held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, willing suspension of disbelief engaged. Please continue."

"Tala approached and bowed low. 'Magandang hapon po. Good afternoon, Lola,' she said politely. 'I hope the day finds you well.' The old woman looked at Tala for a long moment. Tala was frightened, but she did her best not to show it. After all, the Lola never hurt anyone, unless of course the cursing stories were true. The worst that could happen would be that she was sent away without an answer. Finally, the Lola nodded. 'I've been expecting you, Child. Ano ang pangalan mo, iha?' Tala blushed. Not introducing herself immediately was rude. 'Ako po si Tala.I have come to ask your advice.' The Lola continued to level those fascinating blue eyes on the girl. 'Tell me something I do not know,' she replied at last. Of course, thought Tala. Everyone who comes here wants advice about something. 'I dreamed the same dream two nights in a row,' she explained. 'I told my mother and father. They said I must seek your advice if the dream came again.' The Lola held up a hand in an abrupt gesture. 'So you have dreamed this dream three times now? It is about a young man, I suppose.'

"Tala shook her head. 'I dreamed that night and last night as well, so it's four times. Does that mean that it's just a dream and nothing more? There's no young man in my dream, at least not as far as I know.' The Lola straightened her spine, suddenly taking more of an interest. 'Three is powerful, but three of three is more so. We must wait to see if you dream again to know for sure. However, I will say no more until I have received your gift.' Tala extracted the battered basket from her bundle and held it out, repeating the words she had rehearsed on the first day of the trek. 'With my two hands, I plucked the vines. I stripped them of their leaves and dried them with care in the sun, for this was a gift for my mother. In secret, I wove the basket, putting all the love I have for her into the design. As I journeyed, I sought out the most fragrant leaves and succulent fruit from the lowlands to please you.' Here her voice faltered a little, but she continued bravely. 'As I scaled a rock slippery with rain, I lost my footing and fell. I was uninjured, but the basket was crushed and the fruit bruised. I know it is not worthy of you, but it is all I have. I beg that you will accept it and see what it once was, and not what it is now.' She waited, head bowed, for the Lola's verdict.

"The Lola sighed. She could see the long scrape on Tala's leg and the way she was somewhat stiff in her movements. It was clear the girl had been hurt more than she was admitting, but the Lola had to admire her fortitude. 'The basket is beautifully crafted and made with love,' she said gently, 'but it is not your gift. If you want my help, I must receive your gift.' Tala's face fell. 'Then I must go,' she replied. 'I have nothing else.' She turned away, defeated, but was stopped by a withered hand. 'Come inside,' the Lola said. 'I will tend to your leg and the other bruises you surely have. Perhaps something will occur to you.'

"Tala did as she was told, thanking the Lola for her kindness, little realizing that supplicants were never invited inside. The cave was surprisingly light and airy, with a high ceiling of rock. The floor had been swept clean of dirt and covered with fresh leaves that gave off a crisp scent when she stepped on them. Her voice, although she spoke softly, echoed around the space, and Tala looked up in delight. 'My words come back!' she exclaimed.' The Lola busied herself with water and some herbs. 'All words come back, one way or another,' she said. 'That's why it is important to speak only kindness, lest your words return to cause you grief.' She bathed Tala's leg, cleaning away the dirt and blood, and Tala was surprised to find that it felt much better. 'Now that the pain has diminished, think upon your gift. You do have a gift, my dear. You have only to realize it.' Maybe it was the way the sound bounced around the cave, or maybe the Lola's words triggered a memory as she had intended, but suddenly Tala brightened. 'My gift! May I sing to you?'"

"The Lola isn't named Ursula, is she?" Blaine asked suspiciously. "Because if she is, I've already seen the movie."

"Blaine Devon, you need to show some respect," Tamera snapped, perhaps a little more forcefully than she intended. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you aren't ready to hear this story."

"Okay, gee! I'm sorry. I was just joking. I didn't mean to insult you. I want to hear it, and I'll listen politely and not make any more comments."

"See that you do," his mother replied with a frown before she relented and continued her tale. "As I'm sure you've figured out by now, Tala sang and it was glorious. The acoustics (although I'm sure neither of them had any idea what acoustics were) in the cave were nearly perfect, and Tala's voice soared as it never had before. She sang of love lost and love found, of courage and fear, of sorrow and of happiness. When the last note died away, the Lola had tears running down her face.

"When she told the story later, Tala always said she couldn't imagine why she did what she did. She had been raised to treat her elders with respect, and the older the individual, the more respect was given. Under no circumstance would anyone touch an elder without permission. The Lola was ancient, far older than the oldest person in the village, and if touching a village elder was frowned upon, touching the Lola was unthinkable, yet Tala found herself wrapping her arms around the withered frame, trying to impart some comfort to the woman whose tears she did not understand.

"The moment Tala's two hands came together, they both let out a gasp. Tala called it the fire that does not burn, but we'd probably describe it more as a painless electrical shock. I see what you're thinking, Blaine," she added with a smile, dropping the lilt for a moment, "and I thank you for not saying it."

"I'm pretending you're J. K. Rowling and I'm willing to accept whatever happens in this world you're creating," he said. "Besides, this is a really good story."

"Thank you. I think you'll find that it gets even better. Now where was I?" Tamera paused to collect her thoughts. "Oh, yes, their first hug. 'Did you feel that?' Tala exclaimed. 'Did it hurt you? What was it?' The Lola laughed. 'It seems you have a second gift, my dear,' she said joyfully, 'one I never thought I'd see again. Have you ever felt that before?' Tala shook her head. 'No, Lola,' she replied. 'Never.' The Lola gazed off into the distance, lost in thought. 'Have you ever felt really tired or sad, and then someone gave you a hug and you felt better?' Tala stared at her in disbelief. 'Of course,' she replied. 'That's the magic of hugs. No matter what happens, whether you're sick or tired or sad, no matter what's wrong and how bad it is, a hug will always make you feel better. It was wrong of me to touch you without your permission, though, and for that I am sorry.' Now it was the Lola's turn to shake her head. 'Don't be sorry, child. If you hadn't acted so impulsively, we would never have known about your other gift.'

"Tala looked puzzled. 'I don't understand. Everyone can give hugs. How is that a gift?' The old woman smiled gently. 'Come sit down,' she said, pulling Tala by the hand, 'and I'll explain. For most people, a hug makes them feel loved and cared for. It's a pleasant feeling, and it can alleviate some of the misery they may be experiencing at the time. However, there are a few people, maybe one in a village, maybe less, who can actually take energy from the person who is hugging them. The other person is drained slightly, but he usually doesn't notice because the hug has given him a warm feeling and it all balances out. The Takers tend to be enthusiastic huggers because they enjoy it so much, and the warm feeling is a little better than it would be from a neutral person.' The Lola stopped speaking when she saw Tala's horrified expression. She seized the girl's hand and gave it a squeeze.''Oh, no, child, you aren't doing anything wrong. None of the Takers are. They don't even know they're doing it, and the amount of energy transferred is so tiny that it isn't even noticeable. It isn't possible for a Taker to cause someone to die. They can't even make them a little bit ill.'

"Tala bit her lip. 'So I'm a Taker? I've never felt anything like that before. Why did it happen when I hugged you?' Much to Tala's surprise, the Lola giggled. 'It's a little more complicated than that. First of all, your own hands must meet during the hug to complete the transfer, so if a child is hugging an adult, or the Taker is hugging a much larger person, it's not as likely to happen, and if you chose to, you can prevent it by simply not allowing your own hands to touch during the hug. But there's more. There's a much rarer type I call a Sharer, the opposite of a Taker. During a hug, the Sharer unconsciously or consciously transfers some of her energy to the other person. Unlike the Taker, the Sharer's own hands do not need to touch each other during the hug to trigger the process, although the effect is stronger if they do. A Sharer needs to be a little more careful because she, and a Sharer is most often female, can end up giving too much energy without realizing it. There's a certain satisfaction to making other people feel good, and the Sharer can end up ignoring her own needs. She can also end up with a lot of unwanted attention if she isn't careful who she hugs.'"

"Uh, Mom?" Blaine asked hesitantly, not wanting to invoke her wrath once more. "I'm getting the feeling this isn't just a story."

Tamera smiled and her eyes twinkled. "Why don't you let me finish, and then you can decide," she suggested. Blaine nodded and she picked up the story once again. "The Lola could tell that Tala was quite intelligent, so she waited to see how much the girl would figure out. 'You're a Sharer and you isolated yourself up here because people were taking too much from you?' Tala guessed. 'The ... the fire we felt was because you're a Sharer and I'm a Taker?' The old woman wiggled her hand. 'Almost. I'm a Sharer, but I isolated myself up here because I'm a grumpy old woman who doesn't like people. And I'm not sure you're a Taker.'

"Now Tala was really confused. She wanted to be respectful, but the Lola wasn't making much sense. The whole idea of Sharers and Takers was a little far-fetched to begin with, but Tala had an open mind and was doing her best to believe. Now, however, the old woman seemed to be contradicting herself. She glanced at the mouth of the cave, wondering if it would be necessary to make a quick exit. The Lola shook her finger. 'Ah, ah, ah. I know what you're thinking. You're wondering if I'm crazy, and if maybe I'll hurt you. You can move away if you want. Go stand by the door if it will make you feel better.' Tala raised her chin defiantly. 'I'll stay. I felt something when we hugged, and I want to know what happened. Besides,' she said teasingly, 'I'm pretty sure I can outrun you any day.'

"The Lola erupted in laughter. 'That you can, child. That you can,' she agreed. 'Now I said I wasn't entirely sure you were a Taker and you're wondering what I meant. There's a third type. This person can change back and forth at will, sometimes being a Sharer and sometimes being a Taker.' Tala giggled. 'You mean I'm a Shaker?' she asked. The Lola raised an eyebrow. 'That's as good a name for it as any, I suppose,' she replied. 'A Shaker ... ' - and here she let out an undignified snort - 'a Shaker can never be depleted. Even if he Shares constantly and never Takes, in my limited experience, he can continue to Share whenever it is needed. It's been said that the most powerful Shaker can transfer energy by other means, but I don't know about that. I've only met one other Shaker in my entire life,' she continued, a soft smile stealing across her face as she became lost in her memories. 'Where is she?' Tala asked eagerly. 'Can I meet her? What would happen if we hugged?' The Lola shook her head. 'He died a long time ago,' she said quietly, closing the eyes which had become a stormy grey.

"Tala sat quietly, respecting the Lola's grief. Finally the old woman sighed and shook her head ruefully. 'Enough of that,' she said briskly. 'Let's talk about this dream you've been having.' Skillfully she extracted the details from the girl. 'Given everything else we've discussed, this is going to sound a little silly,' she said after a few moments thought, 'but that sounds like a One True Love dream. Some people would call this a blessing, and some would call it a curse, but unlike most people who have numerous potential mates, there is only one person in the world with whom you will be truly happy. It's a curse because you may never find that person, but it's a blessing because if you do, the two of you will have a love like no other and all your daughters unto the ninety-ninth generation will be forever blessed.'"

"Hey!' Blaine objected. "That's so not fair. Why do only the daughters get blessed?"

"You know, that's a very good question," Tamera replied thoughtfully. "That's the way my mother told the story, and I suppose she got it from her mother the same way, but who knows? Maybe the Lola actually said children instead of daughters. Or maybe it was daughters for the first ninety-nine generations, and sons for the next ninety-nine."

"Or maybe daughters was a euphemism for people who want husbands, which would include me."

Tamera giggled. Blaine was so ridiculous sometimes, but it was wonderful to see how comfortable he was with his sexuality. Now if only he would find that husband and settle down and give her a grandchild or two. She sighed and got back to the story. "The Lola explained that the dream indicated that Tala must seek her life partner, going from village to village until she found him, or her I suppose, although that isn't the way my mother told it."

"How was she supposed to recognize him?" Blaine asked curiously, causing Tamera to smile.

"You always wanted to know the details, every time I told a story. You never let me get away with anything," she laughed. "All the Lola would say was that Tala would know, that both of them would know. There would be an undeniable connection between them that nothing short of death could break."

"So what was the blessing that I may or may not be eligible for?" Blaine demanded. "I assume Tala found her true love or you wouldn't be telling me this story because it would be really depressing otherwise."

Tamera looked at him speculatively. "Funny you should ask," she said. "In every generation, the daughters inherited some version of one of the gifts. If you look back through my line, you'll see quite a few gifted musicians. Of the ones I know about, if they weren't musically inclined, they seemed to be unusually caring people, very tactile and prone to giving hugs. I don't know for sure, of course, but I'd suspect they inherited some form of the second gift. My mother claimed that there were more Sharers than Takers, but she didn't know of any Shakers or anyone who got both gifts."

"You're musical," Blaine said slowly, "and so am I."

Tamera shook her head. "No, Son. I dabble, but I'm not truly gifted. But whether it's because of the blessing or not, you are. You sing, you play multiple instruments and you compose. That level of musicality is rare."

"So you're a Sharer?" It wasn't actually a question. If he bought into the whole story, then it was really the only conclusion he could reach. She nodded. "What about the one true love part? Does that apply to everyone?"

"I don't think so. The Lola said that only a person who had the full version of both gifts would have the third part. It may have happened over the years, but if it did, it was forgotten by the time I heard the story."

Blaine narrowed his eyes. "There's something else, something you're not telling me."

"Well, I haven't told you the ending yet," Tamera agreed. "As you can imagine, her parents were not pleased to hear the news but in the end, they agreed to let her go. She had the dream a total of nine times, and no one could argue with that. As the Lola said, three is powerful, but three of three is more so. Tala traveled from village to village, usually alone, but sometimes with friends she met along the way. Everywhere she went, she earned her living by singing. Remember, this was a long time ago, so there were no microphones or keyboards, or many instruments at all, really. Most of the time, it was just Tala and her voice. She would sing for maybe twenty or thirty people at a time, hug everyone who listened to her performance, eat a meal or two, sleep in whatever space was offered her, and move on to the next village. It should have been a little lonely, but every bit of energy she shared came back to her tenfold. Now scientists would probably say it was just the adrenaline rush from performing, but we know better."

"I think you're right," Blaine agreed. "When I do a meet-and-greet before the show, I feel fantastic long before I start performing. It's not just the adrenaline." A slow smile broke across Tamera's face as Blaine's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my God! I'm some kind of energy vampire! I'm a Taker. I'm feeding off my fans."

Tamera seized his chin firmly in one hand. "Breathe, Blaine," she instructed calmly. "Let's think about this for a minute. Do you hug the way I taught you?"

"Yes. I always bring my hands up and place them over the person's shoulder blades. You said it was to avoid any suggestion of impropriety. That wasn't it at all, was it?"

"I was never absolutely sure, especially since your musical talent manifested so early, but I thought I detected it when you were about three. You threw your arms around my leg, joined your hands and squeezed really tight. We both felt the shock, but you didn't have any idea what it was, and as curious as you were, you were also easily distracted. All I had to do was mention ice cream and you forgot all about it. Of course, it could have just been static electricity."

"So as long as I don't join my hands, I'm not hurting anyone?"

Tamera shook her head and sighed. Blaine wasn't usually this dense, but it was a lot to take in. "I think we got distracted again. Let me finish the story and then we'll talk about it. The ending is rather sweet." Blaine huffed, but settled down to listen. "Tala continued going from town to town, performing anywhere she could get someone to listen, which, given that they had no other form of entertainment, was pretty easy to do. She was just finishing up her last song - none of those fake spontaneous encores that you all seem to be so fond of today ..."

"Mom!" Blaine whined. "You know my manager says we have to do it that way. Everyone expects it. If I ended a concert and didn't do an encore, there'd be a riot."

"Yes, I know," his mother said patiently. "Anyway, Tala was just about to leave when the most beautiful man she'd ever seen showed up. According to the legend, he was tall and slim. His skin was very pale, which was odd in itself, but the most remarkable thing was his eyes. They were the most amazing eyes she had ever seen. They were blue, and then they weren't. She would have sworn they were green, but then they were gray. She smiled shyly at him, he crossed the room and took her hand, and the rest, as they say, is history."

Blaine sighed happily. "That is nice. Maybe there's hope for me, too. Do you think my One True Love is out there somewhere?"

"Oh, I'm sure of it," Tamera replied. "Somewhere out there is a pair of beautiful eyes just waiting for you." Blaine still didn't seem to have figured it out, so she decided to give him another hint. "You know, when you were little you were so determined. Some might even say you were stubborn, but you knew exactly what you wanted and you did whatever it took to reach your goal. Your dad used to say that you were sure to be one of the Movers and Shakers when you grew up. I always had to bite my tongue not to laugh when he said that. He didn't know how half-right he was."

Blaine cocked his head as he considered the implications of her rather broad hint. "I'm a Shaker? I'm giving my fans energy?"

"You have both gifts, so you're likely to have the strongest version of each. And from what I've felt at your concerts, you're Sharing whenever you hug a fan, but you're also Sharing when you perform. It's more diluted because it's going out to everyone at once, but it's there, and if you make eye contact during a song, that person gets a very strong blast." And that explains why most of them are at least a little in love with you, but I'll let you figure that out on your own, she thought to herself. Maybe that's not such a bad thing for a musician anyway.

Blaine bounced on his toes, unable to stay seated any longer. "Maybe it'll be the next concert. We sold extra meet-and-greet tickets in Lima since Westerville is so close and there's not much travel time involved. Maybe I'll look up and the next guy in line will be tall and slim and pale, with the most amazing eyes I've ever seen."

Things have been rough in the Glee-verse lately. Think of this little one-shot as my hug for all of you. I hope it makes you feel a little better. And just so you know, Darren Criss gives the best hugs in the world.

Update: I really wasn't planning to write another chapter of this, but some of the reviewers have asked and now I have IDEAS, so I've changed the status. There will probably be one more chapter if there's enough interest. Maybe two.