Here I Am, Honey (3/15ish) - Klaine Dirty Dancing AU
Title: Here I Am, Honey (3/15ish)
Rating: PG-13 this section, increasing to R or NC-17 in later chapters
Pairings: Klaine, background Finchel (with very little focus)
Word Count: 5,409 this chapter / 15,154 overall (so far)
Spoilers: I'll be making nods to canon throughout, so I'll say "all aired" just to be safe, but this is very AU
Warnings: As with the movie, this story does include significant allusions to abortion. Also mild angst and slow burn/buildup.
Previous Chapters: One / Two
Summary: When Blaine Anderson visits Kellerman's Mountain Home with his family in the summer of 1963, he isn't expecting anything more than days in the sun and games of croquet, but when he and his cousin Rachel meet the staff dance instructors, his plans get thrown for a loop. Blaine's family vacation might just end up being the time of his life. A Klaine Dirty Dancing AU.
Author's Notes: Title from Solomon Burke's "Cry to Me." Many thanks to my wonderful beta shandyall!
After lunch the next day, Rachel and Blaine were on their way to the lake, magazines and a blanket to spread on the grass in hand, when she called his attention to a tent set up along the edge of the small strip of beach. “Is that the wig show?” she asked, shading her eyes.
Blaine furrowed his brow. “The wig show? What’s a wig show?”
“Don’t you ever listen to the announcements?” she asked, veering toward the tent.
Truth be told, Blaine had been annoyed with the man who wandered the grounds shouting the day’s events through a bullhorn since the day they’d arrived. “I must have missed that one.”
Rachel continued beelining toward the tent, and Blaine looked dubiously at the rows of women lined up along both sides of the table underneath, each fussing with her hair in a mirror. “Really, Rachel, what’s a wig show?”
“They set out all different kinds of wigs,” Rachel explained, her voice excited, “and you can try them on.”
They were getting close to the table now, and Blaine started dragging his heels. “Rachel, I love you, but I draw the line at trying on wigs.” A few of the women looked up and tittered.
“Oh, Blaine, you don’t have to do anything. It’s finishing up soon. Just sit here while I try one on.”
Rachel pushed him down into a chair and plopped into the one beside it, reaching at once for a short blonde wig. One of the women who’d watched their approach caught Blaine’s eye and gave him a sympathetic smile. Blaine returned it out of politeness but turned quickly away, and it was then that he noticed that Quinn was presiding over the events at the head of the table. He glanced suspiciously back at Rachel, but she was absorbed with peering into a mirror and fluffing the wig. “How do I look?” she asked.
“Just like Sandra Dee,” Blaine mumbled, looking away at the lake.
Rachel didn’t turn away from the mirror. “You’re just saying that.”
Luckily, Blaine was saved from having to lie by Quinn calling out, “Ladies, I’m afraid we have to start packing up. Please remove your wigs and return them to the stands at the center of the table.”
While the other women began following Quinn’s instructions, Rachel dawdled. She left the wig on and continued staring into the mirror, tilting her head first one way and then the other. “Rach, come on,” Blaine prodded her. “It’s time to go.”
“I know,” Rachel said innocently. She tipped her chin up, then down.
“I don’t think they’re going to let you take the wig with you,” Blaine said.
“Probably not,” Rachel agreed. By then, most of the women had left the table. Blaine fidgeted nervously as Quinn started packing the mirrors and wigs into boxes, moving slowly but surely down the table in their direction. Rachel took one more critical look in the mirror and said, “I don’t think this look is for me anyway.” She pulled the wig off, set it on the lone remaining empty stand, and quickly smoothed her own hair.
“Are you almost done?” a voice said, polite but cool. Blaine looked up to see Quinn waiting beside Rachel’s chair.
“Oh, yes,” Rachel said. “All finished. Thank you.” She clambered to her feet and fixed Quinn with a sunny smile. “Were you really a Rockette?”
“Yes,” Quinn said shortly, reaching for the mirror that Rachel had been using and transferring it to a box.
Rachel clasped her hands together. “Oh, on stage in New York! I envy you.”
Quinn gave a quiet snort, shifting the contents of the box around. “Yeah, well, my parents kicked me out when I was sixteen. Dancing was all I ever wanted to do, and I’m just lucky I got a job as good as that one, or who knows where I might have wound up.” She slammed the lid shut and looked up suddenly. “Don’t pretend to know anything about my life,” she snapped, “because if you did, you wouldn’t want it.” With that, she picked up the box and stalked away.
Rachel gaped after her, then snapped her mouth shut and crossed her arms. “Well! That was rude.”
Forcing his expression into something a little less shocked, Blaine came to stand beside her. “Forget about it,” he said. It was advice that Blaine wished that he could take to heart. All morning, he’d been haunted by the way the previous night had ended, the way he’d felt laid bare by Kurt’s eyes, the way he’d let them chase him from the room. What must Kurt be thinking? Could he suspect? He had to suspect.
Blaine shuddered away from his thoughts, starting to walk toward the water as though he could physically leave them behind at the table. “Come on. Let’s just get down to the lake.”
With a haughty little sniff, Rachel turned to follow.
- / / -
Blaine spent most of the day dreading the evening. He already knew that his family would be attending the second social dance of the weekend, this time at the gazebo. His chances of escape were slim. Even Rachel was excited about it, despite the potential of having to dance with Jacob, because she knew that Finn would be there. And that was the crux of the situation - Blaine was well aware that the dance instructors would be in attendance, trying to convince the guests to buy lessons. When he thought through the situation, which he did again and again, he could only come to the conclusion that he should be downright worried to see Kurt again. Still, it was all he could do to quash the part of him deep down that felt completely the opposite.
A quick look around the gazebo upon his family’s arrival revealed that he didn’t have cause to be anxious yet. Kurt, Finn, and Quinn were nowhere to be seen. For the first twenty minutes, Blaine kept up regular, nervous sweeps of the dance floor and came up empty every time. It seemed that Rachel was doing the same, although she spent an equal amount of time staying aware of Jacob, who was strutting around the gazebo with supreme pride at having planned the evening, so that she could give him wide berth. It wasn’t until Blaine looked over the shoulder of the woman he was dutifully dancing with - one half of the couple with whom Hiram and Shelby now had a standing tennis date - and saw Finn dance by with one of the guests that he realized that they’d even turned up. It had certainly happened with less fanfare than the night before.
Of course, neither Kurt nor Finn gave any indication that they had ever spoken to Blaine or Rachel before in their lives. They couldn’t, Blaine knew, but it didn’t stop Rachel from making a rapid transition from starry-eyed to stony-faced when Finn barely looked in her direction. Kurt, for his part, had briefly and unexpectedly met Blaine’s eyes a handful of times - over the shoulders of their dance partners, across the floor as they stood on opposite sides of the gazebo.
Which was where Blaine was now, leaning against the railing, watching as Kurt’s eyes lightly flicked away from him again. Just like the past three times, it set Blaine on edge, made him want to fidget or demand an explanation, even though Kurt’s face remained all but blank. Hiram and Shelby were standing nearby with Mr. Kellerman, chatting and laughing. Rachel, who was all but plastered to Blaine’s side while she kept a wary eye on Jacob, had switched over to pretending like she wasn’t watching Finn dance with a middle-aged woman in a tight, revealing dress just a few feet away.
“Max!” the woman called suddenly. “Look! Aren’t my dance lessons paying off?”
“You look great, Terri. Just terrific!” Mr. Kellerman replied. “Is Will here for the weekend?”
“For the weekend!” she said. “But he got roped into one of the card games, so no doubt he’s losing all our hard-earned money as we speak.”
“I’ll have to stop by and say hello later. Make sure they’re not taking him for a ride.” The woman nodded and turned her face back to Finn. Rachel stiffened.
“That’s Terri Schuester,” Blaine heard Mr. Kellerman say quietly to Hiram and Shelby. “She’s one of the bungalow bunnies. That’s what we call the women who stay here all week. Their husbands only come up on the weekends. And I don’t want to speak ill of my guests, but if you do join one of the card games, Will Schuester’s table isn’t a bad one to be at.”
Blaine turned back to the woman speculatively. She had only had time to wrap her hands around Finn’s neck - which surely wasn’t proper dance technique, Blaine thought - when they were both interrupted by the sudden appearance of Jacob Ben Israel. “Where’s Quinn?” he demanded, looking up at Finn. “People are asking for her.”
A hard look dropped over Finn’s face immediately. He stepped back from Terri, who watched both men with a miffed expression. “She’s tired and she’s taking a break. She needs a break.”
Jacob frowned severely. “It better not be an all-night break.”
Finn sighed and looked away. “Just give her a few minutes. She’ll be here.”
“She’d better.” Jacob turned away and headed straight for the Berrys. Rachel gasped quietly, but there was no escape. “Rachel, you look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice tense.
“May I have the next dance?” he asked.
“Um… I’m very flattered, of course, but I think that I’m… starting to get tired. It must be all the fresh air.” She smiled apologetically.
“Well, I’d be happy to escort you to your cabin, if you need to lie down,” he said eagerly.
“Oh!” Rachel exclaimed. “Oh, no. Thank you. I’m… hungry. So I don’t want to go to bed just yet.”
“A snack!” Jacob beamed. “I can walk with you to the kitchen.”
At Rachel’s pained expression, Blaine sighed. “A snack sounds good, actually,” he interjected. “Do you mind if I tag along?”
The look on Jacob’s face indicated that he minded very much, but he had only gotten as far as, “We can bring you -” when Rachel spoke eagerly over him. “No, please do join us!”
“So, Blaine,” Jacob asked as the three of them made their way toward the main house, his voice all false politeness, “do you often have to serve as Rachel’s chaperone?”
“Um, sometimes, I guess,” he replied. Rachel frowned, but said nothing.
“Because, Rachel, you really don’t need to worry about that here. If your parents think you’re with me, they’ll be the happiest ones at Kellerman’s. I’m known as the catch of the county.”
Blaine saw Rachel’s eyebrows shoot up and her lips twitch. “I’m sure you are,” she said.
“Last month, I took a girl away from Sam - he’s one of the lifeguards, and he actually might not be so bad, but he spends all his time with the entertainment staff.” Blaine noticed that he gave the words the exact same inflection as his uncle. “And he said to her ‘What does he have that I don’t have?’ And you know what she said? ‘Two hotels.’”
“How… charming,” Rachel intoned, stepping aside and wrinkling her nose at Blaine as Jacob opened the door. He held it for Rachel, but somehow managed to scoot through right after, leaving Blaine to catch the door before it closed in his face.
In the kitchen, Jacob led them to one of the large refrigerators and started looking through the contents. “Let’s see… there’s some cheese, some gherkins… I could make a sandwich…” Since he wasn’t actually hungry, Blaine tuned Jacob out as he continued to list their options. He looked up at the slice of light the refrigerator carved across ceiling, but his eyes were brought down sharply as he heard what sounded very much like someone trying to silence a sniffle. Frowning, he shifted back nonchalantly to peer around a counter. In the darkness on the other side, he could just make out Quinn huddled on the floor, back pressed against the wall and knees to her chest, face wet and distraught.
Blaine leaned slowly forward again to find Rachel watching him suspiciously while Jacob continued to rifle through the refrigerator. She sneaked a glance around the corner as well, then exchanged a calculating look with Blaine. He nodded. “That sounds good; I’ll have that,” she said, cutting off Jacob’s rambling catalog.
Jacob gave her a confused look. “Salad dressing?”
“What? No, oh no… what did you say before that?”
“Grapes?”
“Yes!” Rachel exclaimed. She reached into the refrigerator herself and broke off two small bunches, thrusting one at Blaine. “Weren’t you hungry, Blaine?”
“Oh, yeah. I mean, yes, I am. Thank you.”
As they made their way back toward the gazebo, Blaine and Rachel made fast work of eating their grapes and tossed away the stems, walking quickly despite Jacob’s protests. When they got close, Blaine leaned down to hiss in Rachel’s ear, “Keep him occupied.”
She made a sour face but nodded. After a fortifying breath, she forced a smile onto her face and turned toward Jacob. “Would you still be up for that dance?”
His face lit up. “Of course!” As he led Rachel to the dance floor, Jacob shot a haughty look back over his shoulder at Blaine.
Blaine ignored it, already moving along the edge of the gazebo to try to spot either Finn or Kurt. He saw Finn first, but he was dancing with another middle-aged, female guest. Blaine didn’t want to make a scene by interrupting, so he searched for a moment longer and was relieved to see Kurt watching from the edge of the crowd, sipping a drink. Ignoring the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat, Blaine approached him and leaned against the railing, keeping a cautious distance between them.
Kurt cut him a sidelong glance. “Good evening, Blaine.”
“Hello, Kurt.”
“If you’re looking for a dance lesson, Quinn’s taking a break, but she should be here soon.”
“I’m not so sure about that, actually.”
That caught Kurt’s attention, and he actually turned to look at Blaine directly. “What?”
Blaine faced him, dropping all pretense. “Rachel and I just went to the kitchen to find a snack. Quinn’s in there. She’s crying, and she seems really upset.”
Something in Kurt’s expression crumbled at the words. “Did she say anything?” he asked, and even his voice seemed a little smaller.
“No. She was hiding, and I don’t think she even realized that we saw her. I just… wanted one of you to know.”
Kurt nodded, his face continuing to give way to genuine concern. “Wait here,” he said, stepping onto the dance floor and weaving his way toward Finn. After Kurt took a moment to speak into his stepbrother’s ear, Finn excused himself from his partner, and both men hastened toward the path leading to the main house. Without thinking, Blaine hurried to follow. He rushed noisily down the steps just after Kurt, who gave him a confused, curious look, but kept quiet as they fell into step together, moving quickly to keep up with Finn’s long stride.
“Quinn wouldn’t do anything stupid, would she?” Finn called over his shoulder.
“I don’t think so,” Kurt said, but he didn’t sound like he entirely believed his own words.
“What’s - what’s the matter?” Blaine asked.
Finn started at the sound of his voice and looked back for a moment. “What’s he doing here?”
“I just want to make sure she’s okay,” Blaine said falteringly.
Finn shook his head and kept walking.
“But - what’s wrong?” Blaine asked again, glancing over at Kurt.
Kurt was quiet for a moment, his lips tightening a little. “It’s not my place to tell,” he said finally.
They were at the doors then, and conversation was forgotten in favor of rushing to the kitchen. Quinn hadn’t moved, and Finn knelt beside her at once. She leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck, sobbing anew. Finn spoke to her in a low soothing voice. “It’s okay. I’m here. Kurt’s here. We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Ssshhh. We’ve got to go; hang on.” He slid one arm under her knees and another around her back, lifting her easily while she buried her face in his shoulder.
Moving in a tight group, they exited the main house through a door at the back of the building and started back toward the staff area of the resort. Blaine felt out of place now, but it didn’t seem right to just turn around and leave, either. He could hear Quinn and Finn’s voices carrying back to him on the quiet night air.
“Why didn’t you come and find me? I’m always here to help you,” Finn was saying.
“Forget it, Finn. I’m not taking what’s left of your salary,” she replied, her voice thick.
“Don’t you worry about me.”
“It wouldn’t be enough anyway,” Quinn said. “It’s hopeless! What am I going to do with a baby?”
Blaine’s eyes rounded, and he looked over at Kurt. “A baby?” he mouthed. Kurt’s mouth twisted and he looked at the ground.
Finn carried Quinn into the same large cabin from the night before, which seemed barren when it was empty of music and dancing, and deposited her on a worn couch, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. Only then did she look up and notice Blaine. “You!” she said in surprise. “You heard?”
“I’m - I’m sorry,” Blaine whispered.
“Fantastic,” Quinn muttered. “Now he’ll tell his cousin, and she’ll tell her management boyfriend, and we’ll all get fired.” Wearily, she accepted a drink from Finn.
“I’m not going to -” Blaine started, but Quinn had started in again as though he hadn’t spoken.
“Geez, at this rate, everyone here is gonna know before long. Why not just skywrite it? Quinn got knocked up by Noah the creep!” she finished dramatically, waving her hand.
Blaine found his eyes turning to Finn as he asked, “Noah?”
“So right away, you think it’s mine?” Finn challenged him.
“But I thought…” Blaine started, his voice trailing away. It was obvious what he’d thought.
“They haven’t been a couple since we were in high school,” Kurt volunteered quietly.
Blaine shook his head, trying to absorb the situation. “Is there - is there anything I can do?”
“Do you have $250?” Quinn asked mirthlessly. She took a swig from her glass.
“What?”
Again, it was Kurt who spoke up, his voice still low. “One of the guys knows a doctor,” he said. “A real M.D. He’s going to be in town the week after next. We can get an appointment, but we’re $250 short.”
A weighty silence fell over the room. Blaine blinked at Kurt for a moment before the realization hit him - oh, he means - and he looked back at Quinn. She was staring sullenly into her glass, while both Finn and Kurt were looking at Blaine as though they were daring him to make a comment or turn them into the police.
Of course, they had no idea the sorts of things that he’d overheard while living in a doctor’s home for the past four years. There was the night last fall, for example, when Hiram had gotten home late after dealing with an emergency patient, and he and Shelby had huddled in the kitchen and spoken in hushed tones about a botched procedure done by an untrained practitioner, unaware that Blaine was sitting in the next room with his math homework spread all over the coffee table, shamelessly eavesdropping. He’d listened wide-eyed as they’d both agreed that it shouldn’t have to be that way.
It shouldn’t have to be that way, not for Quinn, he thought, and it was accompanied by a rush of fear - is that what Quinn would do if she couldn’t get this appointment? Would she be another emergency? A botched procedure? She was suddenly so real, sitting small on the couch with her shoulders curled delicately in, a girl with friends that didn’t want to see her hurt and who had only ever wanted to be a dancer. A real M.D., Kurt had said. Not an untrained practitioner.
“Have you asked Noah?” Blaine said carefully. “Maybe he could... if you tell him -”
“He knows,” Quinn cut him off, her face grim.
“But -”
“You want to know what you can do for me?” Quinn said, hard and angry. “Go back to your fancy family vacation and leave me alone. This isn’t any of your business.”
Blaine reeled back a little and looked helplessly over at Kurt. His face was stern, but his eyes were sympathetic. “Maybe it would be best if you just go,” he said softly.
“I - okay,” Blaine said, shifting backwards and then nearly tripping over his feet as he turned to hurry out of the room. Outside, he met Rachel as she crested the stairs that led up the hill.
“Jacob and Mr. Kellerman left to go talk to the men playing cards,” she said breathlessly. “We’re in the clear. Is everything okay?”
“It’ll be fine,” he said, continuing past her and starting back down the staircase.
Rachel paused for a moment and then followed. “What’s wrong? Is Quinn okay?”
Blaine’s feet moved along the path in even steps. It felt like he wasn’t controlling them at all. “She’s… sick. She’s sick and she needs surgery and they don’t have the money.”
“How awful!” Rachel exclaimed, hurrying to catch up. “I wonder if Daddy -”
“No!” Blaine cut her off sharply. He stopped and turned to face her. “We can’t meddle like that and drag everyone into everyone else’s business.”
“But -”
Blaine reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m going to take care of it, Rachel. Please, trust me.”
Rachel’s eyes were big and confused, but she nodded. “Okay, Blaine.”
They returned to the gazebo in silence.
- / / -
Blaine managed to slip away from his family the following day and steal into the dining hall while the waiters were preparing it for the lunch service. He found Noah filling water glasses and approached him cautiously, suddenly nervous even though he’d been planning his words since the night before. He paused beside the table and cleared his throat.
“Oh,” Noah said, looking up in surprise. “Hey. You’re Rachel’s brother, right?”
“Cousin, actually. I -”
“What can I do for you, Rachel’s cousin?” He continued to circle the table and pour.
Blaine took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you about Quinn Fabray.”
Noah glanced up sharply, then returned to his work, a little smirk on his face. “Oh, you think she’s a real doll, huh?”
“No, I -”
“Well, let me give you some advice. You do not want to get messed up with that one. If you want to know who to spend time with around here, I can give you a few names.”
“No!” Blaine exclaimed, then lowered his voice again. “It’s not that. It’s just… you know she needs money, right?”
Noah startled, water splashing out of a glass and onto the tablecloth. He cursed and thumped the pitcher down on the table. “She told you?”
“I found out,” Blaine said evenly.
“So?” Noah raised an eyebrow.
“So I want to know what you plan to do about it,” Blaine said. He tried to sound stern, but Noah’s impregnable expression made him quake a little.
Noah only looked more foreboding when an impressive frown bloomed on his features. “First of all, do not try to talk to me like you’re my father. I may not know where he is, but I know you’re not him. Second, I didn’t blow a summer hauling bagels just to bail out some chick who probably slept with every guy in the place.”
Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. “But she said -”
“Of course she said. I’d like to see her prove it,” Noah said smugly.
Blaine felt a sudden wash of fury so strong that he was surprised he wasn’t actually seeing red. Drawing strength from it, he stepped forward a little and fixed Noah with a hard look. “You’re disgusting,” he seethed. “You stay far, far away from my cousin, or I’ll have you fired.” For one wild moment, Blaine considered grabbing the pitcher of water and splashing it in Noah’s self-satisfied face - or somewhere else. Instead, he spun and stormed out of the room before Noah could say another word.
- / / -
After lunch, Blaine walked with Hiram back to the cabin through a fine drizzle fell from the thick bank of clouds overhead. Shelby and Rachel had managed to commandeer the dance studio for an hour so that Rachel could practice and do a few vocal runs, and all four planned to head to the indoor pool afterwards, even though it promised to be crowded.
When he and Hiram had settled into chairs on the porch, Blaine spoke up. “Uncle Hiram, I have to ask you a favor.”
“What’s that?”
Blaine took a deep breath. He’d been mulling it over since his conversation with Noah, and he just didn’t see any other options. “I met someone here, one of the staff members, and I found out they need $250.”
Hiram’s eyebrows arched behind his glasses. “That’s a lot of money, Blaine.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “I just… I really want to help. And I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can; I promise.”
Hiram watched him, his gaze searching. “It’s not for anything illegal, is it?”
Blaine forced himself to keep breathing evenly. “No,” he said, surprising even himself at how easily the lie came out.
“Of course not,” Hiram said at once. “That was a silly thing to ask. I trust your judgment. I’ll have it for you before dinner.”
Blaine’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably, but he kept his gaze steady. “And you won’t… I mean... it’s kind of a secret, and I don’t want it to get out. So you won’t mention it to Shelby? Or anyone?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
Blaine nodded. “Thank you,” he said, unable to keep the relief from his voice entirely as Hiram clapped his shoulder.
Later that evening, Blaine’s family retired early to their cabin because Rachel had implored them all to stay in and work on the puzzle. Blaine, however, had pulled her aside to let her know that he’d gotten the money for Quinn, and she’d given him a hug and her special dispensation to run the errand.
Blaine had initially considered making the excuse that he wanted to go for a run now that the rain had stopped, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of showing up in the staff quarters in his running shorts. Instead, he actually dressed with some care, selecting the best-looking pair of jeans he owned and a dark t-shirt, buttoning a long-sleeved shirt up over the top. He jammed the money down into his pocket and headed out to the main room. “I think I left my wristwatch down at the pool this afternoon,” he announced. “I’m going to go see if anyone found it.”
“Oh dear!” Rachel exclaimed. “And just when we were sitting down to work on the puzzle!”
Blaine thought that she was, perhaps, laying it on a little thick and shook his head at her discreetly. “I don’t think I’ll be gone long.”
Hiram glanced up and gave him a knowing look. “I hope it turns up,” he said with a nod.
“Thank you. I’ll be back soon.”
Blaine paused on the porch. The next step had always been part of a plan, but it was making him feel ridiculous when it actually came down following through. With a sigh, he forced himself to remember how out of place he’d felt the night of the first staff party, standing there in his collared shirt and suit pants. Before he could change his mind, he removed the long-sleeved shirt, stuffed it under a blanket on one of the chairs, and all but ran down the cabin steps. It was silly - he wore t-shirts to run in all the time at home. He had been far more on display at every one of his cross country meets than he was now, and although the uniform had made him uncomfortable at first, he’d long since stopped caring whether anyone was looking at him. There was no reason to feel like he was walking across the grounds in his underwear. But he did.
When Blaine arrived at the staff cabin, another party appeared to be in full swing. The mood was a little more subdued than he’d seen previously - Stay by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs was playing, and couples were rocking together in clinging pairs. Blaine saw Kurt dancing with one of the women not far from where he’d come in, but he looked quickly away and spotted Finn and Quinn locked together on the other side of the room. He wended his way through the crowd and tapped Finn on the shoulder, his excitement overriding his fears about being rude. When the pair separated to look at him in surprise, Blaine held up the cash and grinned.
Quinn looked at him in disbelief, a slow smile spreading over her face as she tentatively took the bills. “You mean Noah…?” she asked.
“Oh… no,” Blaine said. “You were right about him.”
“Then where…?”
Blaine shrugged. “You said you needed it.”
Laughing a little, Quinn looked up at Finn. “What is this kid, some kind of saint?”
It wasn’t until then that Blaine saw Finn’s expression, which was hard and unamused. “Yeah, Prep School here is a real saint for asking for an advance on next week’s allowance.”
Blaine sputtered for a moment, which gave Kurt - whose approach had gone unnoticed - the chance to admonish, “Finn!”
“I only went to prep school for half a year,” Blaine finally retorted, recovering his voice. “And we’re not rich!”
Kurt gave him a skeptical look that bordered on amused. “Your uncle is Doctor Berry, right?” Blaine nodded. “So then he treats his patients pro bono?”
“Pro what?” Finn asked.
“That’s enough, boys,” Quinn interjected. She shoved the stack of bills back into Blaine’s hand. “Thank you, but I can’t take this.” Then she turned to drag a protesting Finn back to dancing. Blaine heard him hiss, “you should take the money” as they began swaying again.
Kurt sighed, watching them, his face troubled. “I can only get her an appointment for Thursday,” he explained, “but that’s when we’re scheduled to do the mambo act at the Sheldrake. I choreograph; they dance.”
“What’s the Sheldrake?” Blaine asked.
“It’s another hotel. If we cancel now, we lose this year’s salary and next year’s gig.”
“Can’t somebody else just fill in?”
Finn, who was evidently still listening to their conversation, broke away from Quinn. “Who else is going to fill in? Everyone else is busy all day and wouldn’t have time to learn the routine. This isn’t a vacation for us. Everybody works here.”
Blaine looked at Finn for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. “What if I could find someone?”
“Who?” Quinn asked suspiciously.
“Rachel,” Blaine said. “She’s been taking dance lessons for practically her entire life.”
“She has?” Kurt asked, sounding doubtful.
“Ballet,” Blaine clarified.
“Well, I still think it’s the dumbest idea I ever heard of,” Finn said petulantly, looking away.
“Just let her try,” Blaine cajoled. “I’m sure she would want to.”
To his surprise, Quinn looked thoughtful. “Finn, you’re a strong partner and a good lead. And we’d have over a week to teach her.”
“It wouldn’t be as difficult as starting from scratch,” Kurt mused. “At the very least, she’s used to moving and learning choreography.”
All three of them looked at Finn expectantly. He continued to scowl, and Blaine wondered if he would actually say no just for the sake of it, or just because Blaine had made the suggestion. Finally, he grumbled, “We can give it a try. At least until we come up with a better solution.”
Blaine smiled and extended the money to Quinn. “I’ll ask her as soon as I can get her alone.”
Chapter Notes:
Rating: PG-13 this section, increasing to R or NC-17 in later chapters
Pairings: Klaine, background Finchel (with very little focus)
Word Count: 5,409 this chapter / 15,154 overall (so far)
Spoilers: I'll be making nods to canon throughout, so I'll say "all aired" just to be safe, but this is very AU
Warnings: As with the movie, this story does include significant allusions to abortion. Also mild angst and slow burn/buildup.
Previous Chapters: One / Two
Summary: When Blaine Anderson visits Kellerman's Mountain Home with his family in the summer of 1963, he isn't expecting anything more than days in the sun and games of croquet, but when he and his cousin Rachel meet the staff dance instructors, his plans get thrown for a loop. Blaine's family vacation might just end up being the time of his life. A Klaine Dirty Dancing AU.
Author's Notes: Title from Solomon Burke's "Cry to Me." Many thanks to my wonderful beta shandyall!
After lunch the next day, Rachel and Blaine were on their way to the lake, magazines and a blanket to spread on the grass in hand, when she called his attention to a tent set up along the edge of the small strip of beach. “Is that the wig show?” she asked, shading her eyes.
Blaine furrowed his brow. “The wig show? What’s a wig show?”
“Don’t you ever listen to the announcements?” she asked, veering toward the tent.
Truth be told, Blaine had been annoyed with the man who wandered the grounds shouting the day’s events through a bullhorn since the day they’d arrived. “I must have missed that one.”
Rachel continued beelining toward the tent, and Blaine looked dubiously at the rows of women lined up along both sides of the table underneath, each fussing with her hair in a mirror. “Really, Rachel, what’s a wig show?”
“They set out all different kinds of wigs,” Rachel explained, her voice excited, “and you can try them on.”
They were getting close to the table now, and Blaine started dragging his heels. “Rachel, I love you, but I draw the line at trying on wigs.” A few of the women looked up and tittered.
“Oh, Blaine, you don’t have to do anything. It’s finishing up soon. Just sit here while I try one on.”
Rachel pushed him down into a chair and plopped into the one beside it, reaching at once for a short blonde wig. One of the women who’d watched their approach caught Blaine’s eye and gave him a sympathetic smile. Blaine returned it out of politeness but turned quickly away, and it was then that he noticed that Quinn was presiding over the events at the head of the table. He glanced suspiciously back at Rachel, but she was absorbed with peering into a mirror and fluffing the wig. “How do I look?” she asked.
“Just like Sandra Dee,” Blaine mumbled, looking away at the lake.
Rachel didn’t turn away from the mirror. “You’re just saying that.”
Luckily, Blaine was saved from having to lie by Quinn calling out, “Ladies, I’m afraid we have to start packing up. Please remove your wigs and return them to the stands at the center of the table.”
While the other women began following Quinn’s instructions, Rachel dawdled. She left the wig on and continued staring into the mirror, tilting her head first one way and then the other. “Rach, come on,” Blaine prodded her. “It’s time to go.”
“I know,” Rachel said innocently. She tipped her chin up, then down.
“I don’t think they’re going to let you take the wig with you,” Blaine said.
“Probably not,” Rachel agreed. By then, most of the women had left the table. Blaine fidgeted nervously as Quinn started packing the mirrors and wigs into boxes, moving slowly but surely down the table in their direction. Rachel took one more critical look in the mirror and said, “I don’t think this look is for me anyway.” She pulled the wig off, set it on the lone remaining empty stand, and quickly smoothed her own hair.
“Are you almost done?” a voice said, polite but cool. Blaine looked up to see Quinn waiting beside Rachel’s chair.
“Oh, yes,” Rachel said. “All finished. Thank you.” She clambered to her feet and fixed Quinn with a sunny smile. “Were you really a Rockette?”
“Yes,” Quinn said shortly, reaching for the mirror that Rachel had been using and transferring it to a box.
Rachel clasped her hands together. “Oh, on stage in New York! I envy you.”
Quinn gave a quiet snort, shifting the contents of the box around. “Yeah, well, my parents kicked me out when I was sixteen. Dancing was all I ever wanted to do, and I’m just lucky I got a job as good as that one, or who knows where I might have wound up.” She slammed the lid shut and looked up suddenly. “Don’t pretend to know anything about my life,” she snapped, “because if you did, you wouldn’t want it.” With that, she picked up the box and stalked away.
Rachel gaped after her, then snapped her mouth shut and crossed her arms. “Well! That was rude.”
Forcing his expression into something a little less shocked, Blaine came to stand beside her. “Forget about it,” he said. It was advice that Blaine wished that he could take to heart. All morning, he’d been haunted by the way the previous night had ended, the way he’d felt laid bare by Kurt’s eyes, the way he’d let them chase him from the room. What must Kurt be thinking? Could he suspect? He had to suspect.
Blaine shuddered away from his thoughts, starting to walk toward the water as though he could physically leave them behind at the table. “Come on. Let’s just get down to the lake.”
With a haughty little sniff, Rachel turned to follow.
- / / -
Blaine spent most of the day dreading the evening. He already knew that his family would be attending the second social dance of the weekend, this time at the gazebo. His chances of escape were slim. Even Rachel was excited about it, despite the potential of having to dance with Jacob, because she knew that Finn would be there. And that was the crux of the situation - Blaine was well aware that the dance instructors would be in attendance, trying to convince the guests to buy lessons. When he thought through the situation, which he did again and again, he could only come to the conclusion that he should be downright worried to see Kurt again. Still, it was all he could do to quash the part of him deep down that felt completely the opposite.
A quick look around the gazebo upon his family’s arrival revealed that he didn’t have cause to be anxious yet. Kurt, Finn, and Quinn were nowhere to be seen. For the first twenty minutes, Blaine kept up regular, nervous sweeps of the dance floor and came up empty every time. It seemed that Rachel was doing the same, although she spent an equal amount of time staying aware of Jacob, who was strutting around the gazebo with supreme pride at having planned the evening, so that she could give him wide berth. It wasn’t until Blaine looked over the shoulder of the woman he was dutifully dancing with - one half of the couple with whom Hiram and Shelby now had a standing tennis date - and saw Finn dance by with one of the guests that he realized that they’d even turned up. It had certainly happened with less fanfare than the night before.
Of course, neither Kurt nor Finn gave any indication that they had ever spoken to Blaine or Rachel before in their lives. They couldn’t, Blaine knew, but it didn’t stop Rachel from making a rapid transition from starry-eyed to stony-faced when Finn barely looked in her direction. Kurt, for his part, had briefly and unexpectedly met Blaine’s eyes a handful of times - over the shoulders of their dance partners, across the floor as they stood on opposite sides of the gazebo.
Which was where Blaine was now, leaning against the railing, watching as Kurt’s eyes lightly flicked away from him again. Just like the past three times, it set Blaine on edge, made him want to fidget or demand an explanation, even though Kurt’s face remained all but blank. Hiram and Shelby were standing nearby with Mr. Kellerman, chatting and laughing. Rachel, who was all but plastered to Blaine’s side while she kept a wary eye on Jacob, had switched over to pretending like she wasn’t watching Finn dance with a middle-aged woman in a tight, revealing dress just a few feet away.
“Max!” the woman called suddenly. “Look! Aren’t my dance lessons paying off?”
“You look great, Terri. Just terrific!” Mr. Kellerman replied. “Is Will here for the weekend?”
“For the weekend!” she said. “But he got roped into one of the card games, so no doubt he’s losing all our hard-earned money as we speak.”
“I’ll have to stop by and say hello later. Make sure they’re not taking him for a ride.” The woman nodded and turned her face back to Finn. Rachel stiffened.
“That’s Terri Schuester,” Blaine heard Mr. Kellerman say quietly to Hiram and Shelby. “She’s one of the bungalow bunnies. That’s what we call the women who stay here all week. Their husbands only come up on the weekends. And I don’t want to speak ill of my guests, but if you do join one of the card games, Will Schuester’s table isn’t a bad one to be at.”
Blaine turned back to the woman speculatively. She had only had time to wrap her hands around Finn’s neck - which surely wasn’t proper dance technique, Blaine thought - when they were both interrupted by the sudden appearance of Jacob Ben Israel. “Where’s Quinn?” he demanded, looking up at Finn. “People are asking for her.”
A hard look dropped over Finn’s face immediately. He stepped back from Terri, who watched both men with a miffed expression. “She’s tired and she’s taking a break. She needs a break.”
Jacob frowned severely. “It better not be an all-night break.”
Finn sighed and looked away. “Just give her a few minutes. She’ll be here.”
“She’d better.” Jacob turned away and headed straight for the Berrys. Rachel gasped quietly, but there was no escape. “Rachel, you look lovely tonight.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice tense.
“May I have the next dance?” he asked.
“Um… I’m very flattered, of course, but I think that I’m… starting to get tired. It must be all the fresh air.” She smiled apologetically.
“Well, I’d be happy to escort you to your cabin, if you need to lie down,” he said eagerly.
“Oh!” Rachel exclaimed. “Oh, no. Thank you. I’m… hungry. So I don’t want to go to bed just yet.”
“A snack!” Jacob beamed. “I can walk with you to the kitchen.”
At Rachel’s pained expression, Blaine sighed. “A snack sounds good, actually,” he interjected. “Do you mind if I tag along?”
The look on Jacob’s face indicated that he minded very much, but he had only gotten as far as, “We can bring you -” when Rachel spoke eagerly over him. “No, please do join us!”
“So, Blaine,” Jacob asked as the three of them made their way toward the main house, his voice all false politeness, “do you often have to serve as Rachel’s chaperone?”
“Um, sometimes, I guess,” he replied. Rachel frowned, but said nothing.
“Because, Rachel, you really don’t need to worry about that here. If your parents think you’re with me, they’ll be the happiest ones at Kellerman’s. I’m known as the catch of the county.”
Blaine saw Rachel’s eyebrows shoot up and her lips twitch. “I’m sure you are,” she said.
“Last month, I took a girl away from Sam - he’s one of the lifeguards, and he actually might not be so bad, but he spends all his time with the entertainment staff.” Blaine noticed that he gave the words the exact same inflection as his uncle. “And he said to her ‘What does he have that I don’t have?’ And you know what she said? ‘Two hotels.’”
“How… charming,” Rachel intoned, stepping aside and wrinkling her nose at Blaine as Jacob opened the door. He held it for Rachel, but somehow managed to scoot through right after, leaving Blaine to catch the door before it closed in his face.
In the kitchen, Jacob led them to one of the large refrigerators and started looking through the contents. “Let’s see… there’s some cheese, some gherkins… I could make a sandwich…” Since he wasn’t actually hungry, Blaine tuned Jacob out as he continued to list their options. He looked up at the slice of light the refrigerator carved across ceiling, but his eyes were brought down sharply as he heard what sounded very much like someone trying to silence a sniffle. Frowning, he shifted back nonchalantly to peer around a counter. In the darkness on the other side, he could just make out Quinn huddled on the floor, back pressed against the wall and knees to her chest, face wet and distraught.
Blaine leaned slowly forward again to find Rachel watching him suspiciously while Jacob continued to rifle through the refrigerator. She sneaked a glance around the corner as well, then exchanged a calculating look with Blaine. He nodded. “That sounds good; I’ll have that,” she said, cutting off Jacob’s rambling catalog.
Jacob gave her a confused look. “Salad dressing?”
“What? No, oh no… what did you say before that?”
“Grapes?”
“Yes!” Rachel exclaimed. She reached into the refrigerator herself and broke off two small bunches, thrusting one at Blaine. “Weren’t you hungry, Blaine?”
“Oh, yeah. I mean, yes, I am. Thank you.”
As they made their way back toward the gazebo, Blaine and Rachel made fast work of eating their grapes and tossed away the stems, walking quickly despite Jacob’s protests. When they got close, Blaine leaned down to hiss in Rachel’s ear, “Keep him occupied.”
She made a sour face but nodded. After a fortifying breath, she forced a smile onto her face and turned toward Jacob. “Would you still be up for that dance?”
His face lit up. “Of course!” As he led Rachel to the dance floor, Jacob shot a haughty look back over his shoulder at Blaine.
Blaine ignored it, already moving along the edge of the gazebo to try to spot either Finn or Kurt. He saw Finn first, but he was dancing with another middle-aged, female guest. Blaine didn’t want to make a scene by interrupting, so he searched for a moment longer and was relieved to see Kurt watching from the edge of the crowd, sipping a drink. Ignoring the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat, Blaine approached him and leaned against the railing, keeping a cautious distance between them.
Kurt cut him a sidelong glance. “Good evening, Blaine.”
“Hello, Kurt.”
“If you’re looking for a dance lesson, Quinn’s taking a break, but she should be here soon.”
“I’m not so sure about that, actually.”
That caught Kurt’s attention, and he actually turned to look at Blaine directly. “What?”
Blaine faced him, dropping all pretense. “Rachel and I just went to the kitchen to find a snack. Quinn’s in there. She’s crying, and she seems really upset.”
Something in Kurt’s expression crumbled at the words. “Did she say anything?” he asked, and even his voice seemed a little smaller.
“No. She was hiding, and I don’t think she even realized that we saw her. I just… wanted one of you to know.”
Kurt nodded, his face continuing to give way to genuine concern. “Wait here,” he said, stepping onto the dance floor and weaving his way toward Finn. After Kurt took a moment to speak into his stepbrother’s ear, Finn excused himself from his partner, and both men hastened toward the path leading to the main house. Without thinking, Blaine hurried to follow. He rushed noisily down the steps just after Kurt, who gave him a confused, curious look, but kept quiet as they fell into step together, moving quickly to keep up with Finn’s long stride.
“Quinn wouldn’t do anything stupid, would she?” Finn called over his shoulder.
“I don’t think so,” Kurt said, but he didn’t sound like he entirely believed his own words.
“What’s - what’s the matter?” Blaine asked.
Finn started at the sound of his voice and looked back for a moment. “What’s he doing here?”
“I just want to make sure she’s okay,” Blaine said falteringly.
Finn shook his head and kept walking.
“But - what’s wrong?” Blaine asked again, glancing over at Kurt.
Kurt was quiet for a moment, his lips tightening a little. “It’s not my place to tell,” he said finally.
They were at the doors then, and conversation was forgotten in favor of rushing to the kitchen. Quinn hadn’t moved, and Finn knelt beside her at once. She leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck, sobbing anew. Finn spoke to her in a low soothing voice. “It’s okay. I’m here. Kurt’s here. We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Ssshhh. We’ve got to go; hang on.” He slid one arm under her knees and another around her back, lifting her easily while she buried her face in his shoulder.
Moving in a tight group, they exited the main house through a door at the back of the building and started back toward the staff area of the resort. Blaine felt out of place now, but it didn’t seem right to just turn around and leave, either. He could hear Quinn and Finn’s voices carrying back to him on the quiet night air.
“Why didn’t you come and find me? I’m always here to help you,” Finn was saying.
“Forget it, Finn. I’m not taking what’s left of your salary,” she replied, her voice thick.
“Don’t you worry about me.”
“It wouldn’t be enough anyway,” Quinn said. “It’s hopeless! What am I going to do with a baby?”
Blaine’s eyes rounded, and he looked over at Kurt. “A baby?” he mouthed. Kurt’s mouth twisted and he looked at the ground.
Finn carried Quinn into the same large cabin from the night before, which seemed barren when it was empty of music and dancing, and deposited her on a worn couch, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. Only then did she look up and notice Blaine. “You!” she said in surprise. “You heard?”
“I’m - I’m sorry,” Blaine whispered.
“Fantastic,” Quinn muttered. “Now he’ll tell his cousin, and she’ll tell her management boyfriend, and we’ll all get fired.” Wearily, she accepted a drink from Finn.
“I’m not going to -” Blaine started, but Quinn had started in again as though he hadn’t spoken.
“Geez, at this rate, everyone here is gonna know before long. Why not just skywrite it? Quinn got knocked up by Noah the creep!” she finished dramatically, waving her hand.
Blaine found his eyes turning to Finn as he asked, “Noah?”
“So right away, you think it’s mine?” Finn challenged him.
“But I thought…” Blaine started, his voice trailing away. It was obvious what he’d thought.
“They haven’t been a couple since we were in high school,” Kurt volunteered quietly.
Blaine shook his head, trying to absorb the situation. “Is there - is there anything I can do?”
“Do you have $250?” Quinn asked mirthlessly. She took a swig from her glass.
“What?”
Again, it was Kurt who spoke up, his voice still low. “One of the guys knows a doctor,” he said. “A real M.D. He’s going to be in town the week after next. We can get an appointment, but we’re $250 short.”
A weighty silence fell over the room. Blaine blinked at Kurt for a moment before the realization hit him - oh, he means - and he looked back at Quinn. She was staring sullenly into her glass, while both Finn and Kurt were looking at Blaine as though they were daring him to make a comment or turn them into the police.
Of course, they had no idea the sorts of things that he’d overheard while living in a doctor’s home for the past four years. There was the night last fall, for example, when Hiram had gotten home late after dealing with an emergency patient, and he and Shelby had huddled in the kitchen and spoken in hushed tones about a botched procedure done by an untrained practitioner, unaware that Blaine was sitting in the next room with his math homework spread all over the coffee table, shamelessly eavesdropping. He’d listened wide-eyed as they’d both agreed that it shouldn’t have to be that way.
It shouldn’t have to be that way, not for Quinn, he thought, and it was accompanied by a rush of fear - is that what Quinn would do if she couldn’t get this appointment? Would she be another emergency? A botched procedure? She was suddenly so real, sitting small on the couch with her shoulders curled delicately in, a girl with friends that didn’t want to see her hurt and who had only ever wanted to be a dancer. A real M.D., Kurt had said. Not an untrained practitioner.
“Have you asked Noah?” Blaine said carefully. “Maybe he could... if you tell him -”
“He knows,” Quinn cut him off, her face grim.
“But -”
“You want to know what you can do for me?” Quinn said, hard and angry. “Go back to your fancy family vacation and leave me alone. This isn’t any of your business.”
Blaine reeled back a little and looked helplessly over at Kurt. His face was stern, but his eyes were sympathetic. “Maybe it would be best if you just go,” he said softly.
“I - okay,” Blaine said, shifting backwards and then nearly tripping over his feet as he turned to hurry out of the room. Outside, he met Rachel as she crested the stairs that led up the hill.
“Jacob and Mr. Kellerman left to go talk to the men playing cards,” she said breathlessly. “We’re in the clear. Is everything okay?”
“It’ll be fine,” he said, continuing past her and starting back down the staircase.
Rachel paused for a moment and then followed. “What’s wrong? Is Quinn okay?”
Blaine’s feet moved along the path in even steps. It felt like he wasn’t controlling them at all. “She’s… sick. She’s sick and she needs surgery and they don’t have the money.”
“How awful!” Rachel exclaimed, hurrying to catch up. “I wonder if Daddy -”
“No!” Blaine cut her off sharply. He stopped and turned to face her. “We can’t meddle like that and drag everyone into everyone else’s business.”
“But -”
Blaine reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m going to take care of it, Rachel. Please, trust me.”
Rachel’s eyes were big and confused, but she nodded. “Okay, Blaine.”
They returned to the gazebo in silence.
- / / -
Blaine managed to slip away from his family the following day and steal into the dining hall while the waiters were preparing it for the lunch service. He found Noah filling water glasses and approached him cautiously, suddenly nervous even though he’d been planning his words since the night before. He paused beside the table and cleared his throat.
“Oh,” Noah said, looking up in surprise. “Hey. You’re Rachel’s brother, right?”
“Cousin, actually. I -”
“What can I do for you, Rachel’s cousin?” He continued to circle the table and pour.
Blaine took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you about Quinn Fabray.”
Noah glanced up sharply, then returned to his work, a little smirk on his face. “Oh, you think she’s a real doll, huh?”
“No, I -”
“Well, let me give you some advice. You do not want to get messed up with that one. If you want to know who to spend time with around here, I can give you a few names.”
“No!” Blaine exclaimed, then lowered his voice again. “It’s not that. It’s just… you know she needs money, right?”
Noah startled, water splashing out of a glass and onto the tablecloth. He cursed and thumped the pitcher down on the table. “She told you?”
“I found out,” Blaine said evenly.
“So?” Noah raised an eyebrow.
“So I want to know what you plan to do about it,” Blaine said. He tried to sound stern, but Noah’s impregnable expression made him quake a little.
Noah only looked more foreboding when an impressive frown bloomed on his features. “First of all, do not try to talk to me like you’re my father. I may not know where he is, but I know you’re not him. Second, I didn’t blow a summer hauling bagels just to bail out some chick who probably slept with every guy in the place.”
Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. “But she said -”
“Of course she said. I’d like to see her prove it,” Noah said smugly.
Blaine felt a sudden wash of fury so strong that he was surprised he wasn’t actually seeing red. Drawing strength from it, he stepped forward a little and fixed Noah with a hard look. “You’re disgusting,” he seethed. “You stay far, far away from my cousin, or I’ll have you fired.” For one wild moment, Blaine considered grabbing the pitcher of water and splashing it in Noah’s self-satisfied face - or somewhere else. Instead, he spun and stormed out of the room before Noah could say another word.
- / / -
After lunch, Blaine walked with Hiram back to the cabin through a fine drizzle fell from the thick bank of clouds overhead. Shelby and Rachel had managed to commandeer the dance studio for an hour so that Rachel could practice and do a few vocal runs, and all four planned to head to the indoor pool afterwards, even though it promised to be crowded.
When he and Hiram had settled into chairs on the porch, Blaine spoke up. “Uncle Hiram, I have to ask you a favor.”
“What’s that?”
Blaine took a deep breath. He’d been mulling it over since his conversation with Noah, and he just didn’t see any other options. “I met someone here, one of the staff members, and I found out they need $250.”
Hiram’s eyebrows arched behind his glasses. “That’s a lot of money, Blaine.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “I just… I really want to help. And I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can; I promise.”
Hiram watched him, his gaze searching. “It’s not for anything illegal, is it?”
Blaine forced himself to keep breathing evenly. “No,” he said, surprising even himself at how easily the lie came out.
“Of course not,” Hiram said at once. “That was a silly thing to ask. I trust your judgment. I’ll have it for you before dinner.”
Blaine’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably, but he kept his gaze steady. “And you won’t… I mean... it’s kind of a secret, and I don’t want it to get out. So you won’t mention it to Shelby? Or anyone?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
Blaine nodded. “Thank you,” he said, unable to keep the relief from his voice entirely as Hiram clapped his shoulder.
Later that evening, Blaine’s family retired early to their cabin because Rachel had implored them all to stay in and work on the puzzle. Blaine, however, had pulled her aside to let her know that he’d gotten the money for Quinn, and she’d given him a hug and her special dispensation to run the errand.
Blaine had initially considered making the excuse that he wanted to go for a run now that the rain had stopped, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of showing up in the staff quarters in his running shorts. Instead, he actually dressed with some care, selecting the best-looking pair of jeans he owned and a dark t-shirt, buttoning a long-sleeved shirt up over the top. He jammed the money down into his pocket and headed out to the main room. “I think I left my wristwatch down at the pool this afternoon,” he announced. “I’m going to go see if anyone found it.”
“Oh dear!” Rachel exclaimed. “And just when we were sitting down to work on the puzzle!”
Blaine thought that she was, perhaps, laying it on a little thick and shook his head at her discreetly. “I don’t think I’ll be gone long.”
Hiram glanced up and gave him a knowing look. “I hope it turns up,” he said with a nod.
“Thank you. I’ll be back soon.”
Blaine paused on the porch. The next step had always been part of a plan, but it was making him feel ridiculous when it actually came down following through. With a sigh, he forced himself to remember how out of place he’d felt the night of the first staff party, standing there in his collared shirt and suit pants. Before he could change his mind, he removed the long-sleeved shirt, stuffed it under a blanket on one of the chairs, and all but ran down the cabin steps. It was silly - he wore t-shirts to run in all the time at home. He had been far more on display at every one of his cross country meets than he was now, and although the uniform had made him uncomfortable at first, he’d long since stopped caring whether anyone was looking at him. There was no reason to feel like he was walking across the grounds in his underwear. But he did.
When Blaine arrived at the staff cabin, another party appeared to be in full swing. The mood was a little more subdued than he’d seen previously - Stay by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs was playing, and couples were rocking together in clinging pairs. Blaine saw Kurt dancing with one of the women not far from where he’d come in, but he looked quickly away and spotted Finn and Quinn locked together on the other side of the room. He wended his way through the crowd and tapped Finn on the shoulder, his excitement overriding his fears about being rude. When the pair separated to look at him in surprise, Blaine held up the cash and grinned.
Quinn looked at him in disbelief, a slow smile spreading over her face as she tentatively took the bills. “You mean Noah…?” she asked.
“Oh… no,” Blaine said. “You were right about him.”
“Then where…?”
Blaine shrugged. “You said you needed it.”
Laughing a little, Quinn looked up at Finn. “What is this kid, some kind of saint?”
It wasn’t until then that Blaine saw Finn’s expression, which was hard and unamused. “Yeah, Prep School here is a real saint for asking for an advance on next week’s allowance.”
Blaine sputtered for a moment, which gave Kurt - whose approach had gone unnoticed - the chance to admonish, “Finn!”
“I only went to prep school for half a year,” Blaine finally retorted, recovering his voice. “And we’re not rich!”
Kurt gave him a skeptical look that bordered on amused. “Your uncle is Doctor Berry, right?” Blaine nodded. “So then he treats his patients pro bono?”
“Pro what?” Finn asked.
“That’s enough, boys,” Quinn interjected. She shoved the stack of bills back into Blaine’s hand. “Thank you, but I can’t take this.” Then she turned to drag a protesting Finn back to dancing. Blaine heard him hiss, “you should take the money” as they began swaying again.
Kurt sighed, watching them, his face troubled. “I can only get her an appointment for Thursday,” he explained, “but that’s when we’re scheduled to do the mambo act at the Sheldrake. I choreograph; they dance.”
“What’s the Sheldrake?” Blaine asked.
“It’s another hotel. If we cancel now, we lose this year’s salary and next year’s gig.”
“Can’t somebody else just fill in?”
Finn, who was evidently still listening to their conversation, broke away from Quinn. “Who else is going to fill in? Everyone else is busy all day and wouldn’t have time to learn the routine. This isn’t a vacation for us. Everybody works here.”
Blaine looked at Finn for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. “What if I could find someone?”
“Who?” Quinn asked suspiciously.
“Rachel,” Blaine said. “She’s been taking dance lessons for practically her entire life.”
“She has?” Kurt asked, sounding doubtful.
“Ballet,” Blaine clarified.
“Well, I still think it’s the dumbest idea I ever heard of,” Finn said petulantly, looking away.
“Just let her try,” Blaine cajoled. “I’m sure she would want to.”
To his surprise, Quinn looked thoughtful. “Finn, you’re a strong partner and a good lead. And we’d have over a week to teach her.”
“It wouldn’t be as difficult as starting from scratch,” Kurt mused. “At the very least, she’s used to moving and learning choreography.”
All three of them looked at Finn expectantly. He continued to scowl, and Blaine wondered if he would actually say no just for the sake of it, or just because Blaine had made the suggestion. Finally, he grumbled, “We can give it a try. At least until we come up with a better solution.”
Blaine smiled and extended the money to Quinn. “I’ll ask her as soon as I can get her alone.”
Chapter Notes:
- Sandra Dee was a model and actress, best known for playing ingenues. This is a still from her 1962 film If A Man Answers: http://www.art.com/products/p15362483-sa-i3710366/if-a-man-answers-sandra-dee-1962.htm
- For reference, when Blaine is mulling over the cross country uniform that he used to wear, here are a couple of pictures from a 1963 boys' high school cross country team: http://www.glcrosscountry.com/CC1963.html (note the second one, specifically)