The title kind of says it all. I decided it was Brittany's turn for a friendship story with Kurt. Please leave feedback if you enjoy it!

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"Kurt, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Brittany." He waited, but she said nothing. The blonde cheerleader shuffled from foot to foot, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Kurt gently asked her, "Did you forget where the girls' bathroom is again?"

Brittany considered that, but then smiled. "No, I remember."

He tried again. "You can't remember your locker combination, and all your stuff is in there?"

"It is?"

She looked alarmed and Kurt hastened to say, "I don't know if it is, I was just checking. Wouldn't want you to leave another live bird in your locker over the weekend or something."

"Oh . . . no, that's not it."

He waited some more, but still no more information was forthcoming.

Kurt sighed. He really didn't feel like playing 20 Questions today. Then, he noticed Brittany glancing toward the school exit with an unexpectedly nervous expression. The school day was over and he finally realized that Mercedes and Tina were waiting for him, easily within earshot. Whatever Brittany's problem was, it must be a private matter.

"You guys go ahead. I'll catch up with you tomorrow," he said, giving them a smile and a little wave. Clearly a bit disappointed, they waved back and went on their way, leaving the hallway mostly deserted. Students never lingering any longer than they had to on a Friday afternoon. "So, what did you want to ask?"

Brittany chewed the edge of her fingernail as she worked the question back up to the forefront of her mind. Kurt tried to be patient, knowing sometimes this could take awhile. Finally, she spoke. "You know how you're, like, gay?"

"I am aware of that, yes," he replied evenly.

"Well, when you found out, did you tell your mom?"

Shocked by this unexpected question, Kurt's mouth worked for a moment with no sound emerging. "Did I . . . you know my mom is dead, right?"

Sadness penetrated the vacancy of the girl's expression for a moment and she patted his arm. "I'm sorry, I forgot."

"It's okay. To answer your question, I would have told her if I could have. I sort of knew that I was different from other boys when Mom was alive, but I didn't understand why until long after she was gone. I told my dad, though."

"That's good."

Still not sure what she was getting at, but wondering if perhaps Brittany had finally made up her mind that she was more than just casual in her attraction to Santana Lopez, he ventured, "Are you wondering how to talk to your mom?"

"About what?" she asked, eyes blinking innocently.

Kurt was starting to get that weird Twilight-Zone feeling he often experienced when talking with Brittany for any length of time. "Being gay?"

Finally, she caught up. "Oh! No, my mom knows I like both boys and girls."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I'm worried about my friend. I just found out he's gay but, like, he never told me and that makes me feel bad. Like maybe he doesn't like me anymore."

Kurt was shocked. There was another struggling gay boy in Lima? It was a strange and somehow thrilling prospect. "I'm sure that's not it, Brittany. Sometimes being gay is just hard to talk about, especially if your friend isn't comfortable with his sexuality yet. Do you know if he's told anyone else?"

"Well, I guess he probably told Dave."

"Dave?"

She nodded. "His friend from down the street. That's how I found out. I went to call him for dinner and found him and Dave doing it in the back yard."

"Wait . . . your friend and his boyfriend were having sex in your back yard?"

Brittany nodded again, looking very sad. "I yelled at them, but they both ignored me."

Feeling a little faint with the possibilities of what Brittany might have witnessed tumbling through his brain, Kurt nearly whispered, "Ignored you?"

"Yeah. They didn't quit for, like, five whole minutes!"

Kurt whimpered, then cleared his throat in an attempt to disguise the embarrassing noise.

"I bet he's sorry now, though," Brittany decided. "When Dave was finished, he just jumped right over the fence without even kissing Sprinkles goodbye."

Kurt's train of torrid thoughts came to a screeching halt. He could almost smell the burning brakes. "Did you say, Sprinkles?"

Brittany blinked at him. "You know, my cat?"

"You . . . he . . . wait, you've been telling me that your cat is gay?"

"Uh, huh. I was hoping maybe you could, y'know, talk to him? And tell him that it's okay to trust me, 'cause you're gay and you trust me. You do, right?"

If it had been anyone but Brittany, Kurt would have assumed they had been playing some kind of nasty, mean-spirited joke on him. But it was Brittany, and Kurt had no doubt whatsoever that she was absolutely in earnest. After all, according to Mercedes the girl was convinced that this supposedly gay cat could read her diary, and that he was fascinated by Santana's exotic pet birds because they were good joke tellers!

Not sure whether he wanted to cry in disappointment – after all, it had been very nice to believe for a few seconds that he was not completely unique – or to laugh like a maniac at the sheer absurdity of this conversation, Kurt choked back both impulses and said in a strangely thick voice, "Sure, uh, I'd be glad to help."

Brittany squealed in delight and threw her arms around his neck, then grabbed him by the arm and hauled him toward the exit.

Kurt followed along more than willingly. He really wanted to see this one of a kind animal for himself.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Kurt did not have to wait for long. No sooner had he parked in front of Brittany's cheery little yellow and white residence and exited the vehicle than a pale gray cat appeared and began winding around his ankles.

Brittany scooped the cat up in her arms and hugged it, heedless of the hairs that were already matting themselves to her Cheerios uniform. Kurt frantically brushed the newly inflicted lint off the cuffs of his favorite pair of designer slacks.

"Sprinkles, this is Kurt, my friend that I was telling you about," Brittany said cheerfully. She waved the patient feline's paw at Kurt. "Sprinkles says hello."

More in deference to the girl's obvious love for the creature than out of any particular fondness of his own, Kurt allowed Sprinkles to examine his hand and then scratched him around the ears. Sprinkles purred approvingly and bumped against his hand, making Kurt smile in spite of himself. The Hummel family had not had a pet since his father's old dog had passed away when Kurt was eleven, but he suddenly remembered that his mother had owned a cat. A delicate little calico named Rainbow, which Kurt's toddler tongue had rechristened Bo-Bo. He suddenly wondered what had ever happened to it. He'd have to ask his dad.

"Hi, Sprinkles," Kurt cooed. "Aren't you just a cute little . . . girl!"

The way Brittany was holding the cat under its arms, belly up and legs splayed, the view was pretty clear.

"Huh?" Brittany said, her delicate eyebrows furrowing. "That's not very nice, Kurt. You don't like it when the other guys call you a girl."

"No, Brit, look," he said, taking the feline from her arms and hoping it would not scratch him. Sprinkles simply hung like a wet rag, purring all the while. "See? Look at the, um, parts. Sprinkles wasn't mating with your neighbor's cat because he's gay. He's a girl. I mean, she's a girl and she was apparently in heat. Hadn't you noticed anything strange about her behavior lately?"

Unsurprisingly, Brittany just looked confused.

Kurt tried to elaborate. "You know, yowling really loud, being bad tempered, maybe trying to get outside more often?"

Her face cleared. "Yeah! I thought he was just mad because I wouldn't let him watch TV."

"Uh, okay." Kurt shook off the comment and asked, "Why did you think Sprinkles was a boy? Didn't you ever check?"

Brittany shook her head, looking a little bit shamed.

"Well, never mind. Now you know so it doesn't really matter. Only . . . "

"What?"

Embarrassed and hoping to God he wasn't going to have to explain the particulars of animal husbandry to one of the most sexually active girls he'd ever met, Kurt said, "You said Sprinkles and Dave were . . . you know, friendly together. And cats don't exactly wear condoms. You do know what I'm saying, don't you?"

For a long uncomfortable moment, it was obvious that she did not. Then a struggling spark of electricity finally lit up her brain. "Sprinkles is like Quinn?"

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. "Right. Well, maybe. I don't know how many times she's gotten out but it's pretty likely."

Brittany reclaimed her furry friend. "Is he right, Sprinkles? Are you going to have a baby?" She looked at Kurt. "So, he'll have it next year?"

"She," he corrected again, "and, no. Cats don't take nine months to have babies like people do. I think it's more like two. And she'll probably have four or more kittens."

"Wow," Brittany breathed, suddenly delighted. "Four little baby Sprinkles!"

Kurt grinned, happy that she seemed to be taking it so well. "You should take her to see your Vet; they can let you know for sure."

"I'll go tell my mom!" she promised, hugging him excitedly again, cat and all. "Thanks, Kurt! You want to come with me?"

"No, this is kind of a family moment," he said, backing up a step as she released him and trying not to feel like a complete coward. He had a feeling that Brittany's mother would not be quite so thrilled and did not want to be there to witness the explosion. Besides, he had a horrible image in mind of Brittany trying to give him credit for Sprinkle's delicate condition! "I'll just go home now. You can tell me how it went later."

Brittany grinned widely. "Okay. Let's go tell Grandma the news, Sprinkles!"

Grandma? Oooh, yeah. Kurt was more than glad not to be in on that conversation.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Over the next two months, Kurt found himself in the very peculiar position of playing friend, supporter and general advice consultant on all things feline. Most of his information was coming from veterinary websites, but he knew better than to advise Brittany to use that method. She couldn't even figure out how to turn on her computer half the time.

It did not help that his friends all found the situation hilarious. They had taken to slipping pictures of kittens in his locker, calling him Uncle Kurt and asking stupid questions, like whether Sprinkles had asked him to be in the delivery room.

Sixty days had never passed so slowly.

`#~#~#~#~#~

Kurt was awakened at 5:15am on a Saturday morning by his cell phone blaring P!nk's "Stupid Girls" – hey, what Brit never knew wouldn't hurt her – and he groaned loudly. Groping for the obnoxiously loud device, he flipped it open and said, "Brit, I am not coming over to give your cat a belly rub. Do it yourself!"

As he started to hang up, his sleepy brain registered squealing and laughing and he put the phone to his ear again.

"Brittany?"

"There's four, Kurt, just like you said!"

With a gasp, he sat up. "Wait, it's already over? Sprinkles had her babies?"

"Last night! In my mom's underwear drawer!"

Kurt and Brittany had spent hours together putting together a perfect cozy little nest for the expectant mama and her babies. It was large and soft, lined with scraps of old blankets and tucked into a quiet, private corner of Brittany's bedroom. Perfect in every way, and the stupid cat had chosen a completely illogical location anyway. Sprinkles was definitely Brittany's cat.

"Congratulations," he said, grinning as he pictured the scene. "What have you got?"

There was a long pause, then a confused, "Kittens."

"No, I mean, boys or girls. Are they gray like their mom, or other colors?"

"Oh." There was another pause. "Mom says there's three girls and a boy. One of the girls is gray and the other two are white and yellow. The boy is black with some brown mixed in. He looks like Dave!"

He smiled, realizing from the description that Sprinkles had probably been playing the field, but he was not about to tell Brittany that. "Aww, cute!"

"They're so tiny! They can't even see yet!" He heard a buzzing sound. "I gotta go, Kurt. Santana is returning my text. I just wanted to call you first since you're their uncle!"

Feeling rather honored, he said, "Thanks, Brit. Congratulations again."

As he put the phone away and flopped back into his large comfy pillow, Kurt laughed, the soft snicker turning into a long hearty chuckle. Uncle to a transgender cat and her four mismatched kittens. Somehow, that seemed just about right.

~#~#~#~#~#~

By the time two more months had passed, Kurt had put Brittany's cat menagerie out of his mind. She had shown everyone in school, even kids she didn't actually know, photographs of the little feline family until people started turning in the hallways and ducking into lockers just to avoid her.

Finally Santana had flat out told her to quit it because nobody cared. Brittany had been quiet and upset for a day or so, and then seemed to snap back to her old self again, cats forgotten.

Kurt had remembered to ask his father about the long absent Bo-Bo and received the depressing news that the cat had been struck by a car when Kurt was five. Burt had seemed surprised that he even remembered it, but the query had led to some precious and previously unshared memories of Kurt's mother and how much Kurt himself, as a tiny boy, had loved that cat.

It was a little hard to believe. He had nothing against animals, but the knowledge that cats would shed hair and claw furniture and potentially hack hairballs over his possessions – not to mention the horror of cleaning a litter box every day – had always turned him away from the desire to own one.

It therefore came as a not-altogether-pleasant shock to find Brittany on his doorstep one morning, holding out a box with a mewling little black kitten inside. Her wide, happy smile made it clear that Brittany expected him to be overjoyed as she said, "Here's your kitten, Kurt! I thought you'd like Sprinkles, Jr. the best."

"Huh?" he said faintly, unable to come up with anything more intelligent.

"Mom says they're old enough to leave their mother now. Cream and Custard and Jelly have all been promised to other people, but I saved Sprinkles, Jr. just for you! I brought you a pan of kitty litter and some food, since Mom says you probably don't have any yet."

Struggling to wrap his mind around this unexpected gift, Kurt opened his mouth to tell her to take it back home with her and instead said, "You named them after doughnuts?"

Brittany just nodded, like that was the most normal thing in the world.

The logical half of his brain screeched in horror when the sentimental half, which seemed to be in complete control of his vocal chords today, said, "Is it okay if I change the name to something else?"

She frowned worriedly. "I don't know. What happens when I send him his Christmas card? Will he still know it's supposed to be for him?"

Fighting the desire to laugh, Kurt explained. "I'll make it easy for him. I was thinking his name could be Rainbow, after my mom's old cat, but I guess we could call him Rainbow Sprinkles. That way he's covered, either way."

"Yeah!" she agreed, beaming at him. "You're so smart, Kurt."

Accepting the box and wondering what the heck he was going to say to his dad, Kurt said, "Thanks, Brittany."

From a car on the curb, Brittany's mother honked to get her attention. "We have to deliver the girls," Brittany explained. "Mom's in kind of a hurry for some reason. She says after we drop off the kittens we're taking Sprinkles to get fixed, but I'm not really sure what's wrong with her."

"I understand completely."

Waving her hand to the little black kitten, Brittany cooed, "Bye bye, little Rainbow-Sprinkles! Be good for Uncle Kurt!" She paused, puzzlement clear in her eyes. "Wait. Are you, like, his daddy now?"

He grinned. "I guess, if I'm adopting him."

She nodded and waved again. "Bye Rainbow-Sprinkles Hummel. Bye Kitten-Daddy."

Kurt grimaced, really hoping that name would not be shared with anyone they knew. It was just awful enough to catch on.

Carrying the box inside the house, Kurt tentatively called out, "Uh, Dad? Could you come here a minute?"

~#~#~#~#~#~

To Kurt's surprise, his father had not objected to the new resident of Casa Hummel in the slightest. He had, in fact, found it hilarious that daffy, space-case Brittany had so neatly outmaneuvered his son into accepting custody of her last unwanted kitten. He had been a little taken aback when he heard the cat's name, but understood immediately why Kurt had chosen it.

Now, a few weeks later, Kurt could not help but melt a little whenever he watched his big, tough-guy father delightedly cooing and tickling the kitten's belly or teasing Bo with a pen-light or a piece of stray yarn.

That sight was worth a bit of unwanted litter box duty, and Kurt was discovering that little Bo was a pleasingly fastidious creature who enjoyed having his short dark fur brushed, leading to far fewer unwanted cat hairs on Kurt's clothing than he had feared. There were some, unfortunately, but not more than he could handle.

Plus, it was unexpectedly pleasant to have a warm purring bundle curled against his legs when he went to sleep each night.

Brittany regularly texted him for updates on Bo and sent him progress reports on Sprinkles. Kurt was laughing as he read the most recent one. The doctor had "fixed" whatever was wrong with Sprinkles and as a result, Sprinkles had broken up with neighbor Dave. Or at least, Brit no longer saw them hanging out together.

Kurt nodded. It should have been done sooner. She had been lucky this time, but it would have been a very bad thing if poor, dumb Brittany found herself with a second unexpected litter to take care of.

Gently scratching the ears of the warm furry visitor to his lap – he was wearing black jeans and a chocolate colored sweater today, so it was probably safe – Kurt smiled. "I'm really glad your Aunt Brittany didn't get your mom spayed sooner," he confessed softly, "but don't you go telling anyone I said so, okay?"

Rainbow simply purred. The secret was safe with him.

THE END