Klaine-Creative Rights

"Blaine, honey, do we need anything else?" Kurt called from the kitchen, where he was hunched over a yellow legal pad, scribbling last minute items on their grocery list.

His husband sauntered into the kitchen, their five-year-old daughter, Molly, was sitting on his shoulders, giggling like crazy and tugging on Blaine's dark hair; the hair that she'd inherited herself."No, I think that's it," Blaine said, swinging Molly off his shoulders and putting her back on the ground, much to her protests.

Kurt scrunched up his face. "I swear there was something else we needed..."

"Oh well," Blaine said, grabbing the yellow jacket draped over the chair. He throws it over Kurt's shoulders, and helps him slide his arms in. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Yeah," Molly pipes in. "Nothing." She currently had a habit of repeating just about everything Blaine said, not that her dads were complaining. They found it adorable.

Kurt sighs. "Alright I'm off, then," he leaned over and kissed his husband on the cheek. "Try not to make a mess while I'm gone, okay?"

"Psshh," Blaine smirked, and turned to his daughter, who was now sitting on the floor, closely inspecting her toes. "Molly, have we ever made mess while daddy was gone?"

Molly smirked as well, another attempt to copy him, though she looked more like Kurt when she smiled. "No, I don't think so," she said, shaking her head.

"That's what I thought," Blaine said, laughing slightly. They both turned to Kurt in their idea of triumph.

Kurt rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh. "Okay, whatever you say. Bye then, love," Kurt said, then he spun on his heel and walked out of the room towards the front door. Blaine and Molly looked at each other, and waited for the clear, crisp sound of the clicking of Kurt's shoes to go away.

When they finally heard the door click shut, Blaine dropped down to his knees to get to Molly's level. "Alright, munchkin, what should we do?"

Molly's eyes grew wide, an idea growing large in her pupils. She then walked over to the fridge, and pointed to the top of it, which was out of her reach. "Paint?" she asked.

"Sounds good to me! Here," he dragged a chair over from the table, because it was out of Blaine's reach as well, climbed on top, and handed her the bin of paint supplies.

Molly, looking ridiculous carrying a bin that was about as big as she was, skipped over to the table, and plopped the supplies on the surface.

Blaine turned on their oh-so-broken blue radio that roared to life with a rather unhealthy moan before actually starting to play any music. He then sat down at the table next to Molly, and opened all the assorted tubes and bottles for her. She pulled out an enormous sheet of blank paper, and set it in on the table as well.

"Alright, what are we painting?" Blaine asked.

She took a second to ponder this, as this was an extremely hard decision in a child's eyes. "I don't know," she finally said. "Let's just make it up as we go."

"Okay!" Blaine said, as he was just about as excited about the idea of painting as she was.

Molly had started painting what looked like a yellow canary, and Blaine was trying to paint a picture of Molly, when the radio, which had been working quite well up until that moment, became very loud, and then a very quiet again just as quickly, making Katy Perry yell just one word in the middle of a sentence.

It made her sound quite funny, though it had come as a surprise to Molly, causing her to jump, thus knocking over a bottle of red paint, and splattering all over Blaine.

They both froze. But then took the event into account, and broke down laughing.

"Here," Molly said, still giggling. "I can fix it!" She grabbed her paintbrush, and began spreading the smooth, slick substance across Blaine's arm.

She obviously found this much more interesting than painting on the paper, because she then proceeded to cover both of Blaine's arms, and start on his face, getting a large portion on herself in the process.The paint ended up all over every visible patch of Blaine's skin, and even some on his clothes, ranging from blues to yellows to black. Molly, satisfied with her work, sat back in her chair, laughing under her breath. A loud gasp escaped her when her ears picked up a familiar melody coming from the speakers of the radio, and, without thinking, started singing along with Florence and the Machine.

"The dog days are over, the dog days are done!"

Blaine chuckled at her. There was no doubt she had a voice, what with either Kurt or Blaine's genes mixed with the wickedly talented Rachel Berry's, it was a no brainer that her vocals would be able to stop a train one day. Blaine couldn't hold it back any longer, and joined in with her, hoping the neighbors in the apartment upstairs were out at the moment.

"The horses are coming, so you'd better run!" they both belted, standing up on their chairs. Both got so into their own melodies, they hadn't notice that Kurt had returned home.

The pair continued to sing until they hit the last note, when they looked out of the corner of their eye, and saw Kurt standing in the door frame. The note they were holding then went from powerhouse, to subtle, and then became more and more quiet, their sound dying away, until it was completely silent.

"KurtIcanexplaintheradioweneedtofixitand," Blaine tried to say, but it comes out in a jumbled mess of words, the sounds mushed together, making him basically inaudible. Molly gave her father a look that told him to be quiet, and then she ran over to Kurt with open arms, yelling, "Daddy! You're back!"

"Hi sweety," he smiled at her, then looked over at Blaine. "Mind explaining what happened?"

Blaine simply shrugged his shoulders, and said, "I couldn't deny her of her creative rights."

He could see Kurt trying not to burst out laughing at his dorky husband, but then his shoulders slumped."Paper towels," Kurt said, holding his head in his hand, with Molly hugging his legs. "That's what we forgot we needed."

"Oh," Blaine groaned, finally looking around at the mess they'd made. "Whoops."

Kurt sighed. "I'll go get them. I'll be five minutes-try not to touch the furniture, please. The neighbors already know we're gay, I don't need a rainbow couch to prove it," and with that, ran back out the door.

Molly looked up at her dad with a mischievous grin. "Paper mache?"

"Eh," Blaine said, "I don't see why not."

And that's what you missed on Glee.

(SMASH TO BLACK)