The Occupational Hazzards of Matchmaking

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Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, and I can't help but think that they're all off somewhere, laughing at me over ice cream.

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Summary: Kurt has had it up to here with these damn matchmakers. Gina has one more ace up her sleeve.

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Gina had never seen Kurt angry before.

Silent, of course. Stand-offish, even cold; that was just Kurt. But his eyes had never flashed fire like this, jaw tight, voice raised almost to a shout, and cracking slightly, because after all, it had probably been years since he had been this angry. Slender, callused hands balled into fists, lanky frame shaking with anger and towering by far enough to terrify weak little girl-women who were only trying to help.

Gina had never seen Kurt angry before.

And she felt as though she could live quite happily never seeing it again.

Particularly when he was angry with her. In addition to a distinctly uneasy feeling that he might throw something if she made him too angry, it hurt her to know that she had upset him, and the thought that he might just wash his hands of her made her feel a little sick.

"What's—wrong?" she gasped, instinctively backing up and trying to avoid that terrible, piercing gaze.

He rolled his eyes, a hint of scorn sneaking into his voice.

"I don't know what kind of game you're trying to play here, Gina, but you can stop it now."

Smarting under the sting of this implied questioning of her character, Gina lifted her chin and tossed her long blue braids.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, Kurt," she said every bit as coolly as he himself could have. "If you're angry about something, you'll have to be more specific before we can do anything to resolve the issue."

There. That sounded dignified and grown-uppish.

He only snorted.

"The issue," he said coldly, "is your stupid little matchmaker game."

She stared blankly.

"Er…what?"

"Dia thinks it's funny, and kind of touching that her best friend is worried about her, but it's just pissing me off, so any time you want to let it go, it's fine with me. Just do it soon."

"You—you mean you and Dia, don't you?" she asked hesitantly, fidgeting nervously with your apron. "What have I done wrong?"

"You mean, besides disappearing whenever I show up and dragging Dia downstairs before you go? Or sending her on those stupid errands to the Workshop?"

"We really did need a new side table," Gina protested hotly. "And Dia needed the fresh air."

"And of course, someone would have to deliver it," Kurt finished, glaring darkly. "Which would give someone else a great opportuinty to send Dia to walk me back."

"You're not exactly a martyr, Kurt. I thought you liked her."

"I do like her. She's nice. It's rare to find a girl who doesn't talk a mile a minute and come up with stupid schemes. I thought you were one of them too, but—"

"Where is she, anyway?" Gina broke in, trying to hurry past Kurt. He shot out an arm to stop her, and as his palm landed at her shoulder, she glared as viciously as she could at him, thus attaining the approximate intimidation factor of a basket of cute, snuggly kittens. "I hope you didn't leave her alone somewhere in the mountains, just because you've decided out of the blue that you're not interested in her!"

"I didn't decide out of the blue," he huffed. "You're not listening. And anyway, she's fine." He smiled slightly. "We stopped by Jack's. I think she's still there."

She blinked.

"Jack? The farmer? Why is she—oh!"

Kurt's smile widened.

"See? We're good friends. Judging from your reaction, I'm the only person she's told about it."

"Why didn't she tell me?" Gina wondered, crestfallen.

Kurt shrugged uneasily, wondering vaguely how he could go from wanting to strangle her one minute to wanting to pat her head comfortingly the next.

"Maybe she just didn't want to hurt your feelings by telling you to stay out of her love life."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, squaring her shoulders, she smiled resolutely up at him.

"Kurt, I am really and truly sorry for this. I honestly thought I was hepling."

He touched her shoulder briefly.

"I know. For someone so good at listening to other people to find out what they need, you sure missed the point here."

"I'm such a fool," she moaned despairingly, dropping into one of the chairs at the little round table and resting her face in her hands. "All three of you probably hate me, and think I'm stupid, and when Jack and Dia get married she'll move out, and you'll never come to visit anymore, and I'll be here all alone for the rest of my life."

He chuckled softly.

"You're missing the point again. Or maybe you're not," he continued quickly when she looked up and began to interrupt. "Maybe you've got the point perfectly. Maybe you're just doing this because of the doctor."

"He—he has mentioned marriage a few times," Gina confessed, blushing miserably, and looking away just in time to miss Kurt's distinctly unhappy expression. "He hasn't exactly asked me, though. I think he's trying to get me to accept an implied proposal. But…" She hesitated.

"But what?"

"I-I don't know that I really want to marry him."

"You got someone else in mind?" Kurt tried to ask lightly, and as indifferently as if the question was her favourite summer dessert.

She flushed more brightly and looked away.

"Oh, I gotcha," Kurt said grimly. "It's Jack. That's what this is about. You were trying to nudge Dia in a different direction so you could—"

"Kurt!" she exclaimed, outraged. "I would never do that, even if I had feelings for Jack, which I don't. It's…someone else."

"Can I ask who?" That feigned casual tone again.

"Just tell me one more thing, Kurt," Gina said explosively, nervously ignoring his question. "If you don't like her, why did you keep coming by? It wasn't all my fault; I wouldn't have done anything if I hadn't thought you were starting to like her."

"Why did I have to be coming to see her?" Kurt snorted, taking the chair next to hers.

Gina frowned.

"Who else would you be coming to see?"

With a valiant effort, Kurt resisted the effort to slam his forehead into his palm.

"Think, Gina. Who else lives at the Sanitarium?"

"W-well, Dia's the only patient just now," she said slowly. "Do you have a suggestion for someone else that might benefit from some rest and care? You know, we really do want to help the people in town—"

"Dia's the only patient," Kurt agreed, waving off the rest of her prepared promotional speech. "But there's a girl living here to take care of her. Really nice girl, cute glasses, pretty smile, wouldn't catch a hint if it fell on her."

By now, Gina's blush was nearly phosphorescent.

"I-I thought it might be too forward to assume—"

"What I've been trying to tell you for the last three seasons?" he suggested teasingly. "I know I'm not one to talk, but it wouldn't hurt you to be more forward."

"Alright," she agreed shyly, leaning closer to his chair and taking his hand carefully, before brushing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. "Is that better?"

"Y-yeah," Kurt replied, slightly stunned. "That's—that's good."

She fidgeted slightly in her chair, rolling her apron between her fingers.

"Um, Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a confession."

"Okay," he said warily. "Go ahead."

"I lied before; Dia did tell me about Jack. It was her idea, my continuing to try to push you two together, because if you kept coming even after she told you about Jack, it meant you liked me, and eventually you would tell me so instead of just going around looking like your favourite goldfish died. And if you didn't like me, you would stop coming to visit, so I would know."

Kurt stared.

"Was that supposed to make sense?"

"I think so," Gina replied, pondering this very carefully.

He shook his head.

"I don't understand women."

Gina giggled.

"I don't know if I can honestly claim that I do." She peeked at him sideways with a mischeivous smile. "But at least I know that you'repredictable; you did exactly what Dia said you would!"

He glared playfully, and then rose slowly from his chair as she bolted from hers and around the table, and advanced on her, intent upon discovering if Dia was right when she said that Gina's sides were intensely ticklish…

And just outside the Sanitarium, a little white rabbit stopped and listened, head tilted to the side and ears alert, as shrieks of laughter drifted from the big, squarish building.

The creature shook his little bunny-head before hopping off to go about its bunny-business.

Humans.

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End Notes: Frankly, I have no idea. I just saw someone comment that this pairing would be cute, so I took it and ran with it. And this is the result. I hope it managed to amuse for a few moments, and feedback is always appreciated. :)