Music Inspiration: If I Had You, by Adam Lambert.

Ownership: I don't own Glee and have nothing to do with Vogue or Vogue dot com. But I own my sometimes crazy and funn imagination. And this one, is from left field. Don't own other shows mentioned, like Catweazle. But I love him so, so much.

Rating: M, 16 plus Baby. Mentions of mature older stuff. Suddenly find it might be sad and triggering. BUT I'm an OPTIMIST, so only a little bit. It gets really good. Like, really, really good.

Dedication: This is for 'RainySunnyEnding', my LuLuBear. Her stories mentioned are: 'Tears and Cookies', 'It Just Sort of Happened', 'The Crash', 'Give Me Strength'. These are just some of her stories, she's written a few more here in fan fic land and also in fic press land. This is also for my LuLuBear's friends, some who write and some who read.

Also / And: I'm a little affected/effected by the other great story 'He Sounds Like a Drag', which is by the great imagination of 'obsessivekumpulsivereadr'.

Molly Meldrum Moment: Do yourself a favour, and check these out. Copy and paste thier name into the Writers section. Or go to my favourite authors, 'cause I ticked the box to add them.

Sometimes the most wonderful support comes from the most unexpected places. The same is said of inspirations. I got a pm from my LuLuBear, I dwelled on it, I had some Glee and Adam Lambert and fan fic other stories bubbling in my veins when I was trying to shop. Up and down the street, I was so happy. This song and others came on, I went back to this one, saw a flower shoppe, thought of my LuLuBear, Sam and Kurt, came home, slept, woke up and saw I'd written this. Prrffrrr the things I do in my sleep. Also the cover art, is a photo of a birthday gift from my Caterpillar.

The Title: Kurt was so right when he said these words. And as a writer/typist, our finger tips connect us. And some stuff is really sexy.

a little more a/n it's important too. mwah, enjoy. Just a smidge smut and mooshy.


~ The Touch of the Finger Tips, is as sexy as it gets. ~

Kurt looked at the bottle floating toward him. He and Sam had been walking along the beach, looking for sand roughened glass. They'd found some beautiful green ones, blue and clear. Lots of odd drift wood.

Sam wanted sea shells and star fish, but Kurt had to remind him that those were protected and even dangerous.

When Kurt and Sebastian had been visiting Victoria, Australia, they'd wanted to spend more time on the beaches, but Kurt's work schedule wouldn't allow it. Now, it did. And he wanted Sam to enjoy what he could, like the sand between his toes.

He stood waiting for the bottle to come closer. "Come on little bottle. That's it, just a little closer." Although he had rolled his sailor pants up to his knees, he didn't want to get his legs wet.

Finally, he bent down and picked it up. It was like an old slender medicine bottle. Not unlike the earlier century soft drink bottles, only holding enough liquid for a dose or two. The glass was fairly weathered. The cork in the top was pushed in tight, and taped around.

Memories of shower scenes and Sam finding a cork made Kurt blush, really deep red. "What's bought that look on?" Sam called from a few steps away.

Kurt held up the bottle for Sam to see. "Ok, but why are you blushing?" Kurt threw it to him. Sam caught it, he could still catch, that was a good sign. He examined it thoroughly, feeling every edge, every bump. He looked at the finer details in the glazier works.

He rubbed it furiously on his pants. Sat cross legged down in the wet sand, Kurt stood to cast a shadow on him, from the bright Aussie sun. "Thanks. Hmmm, there's a note inside. When we get back we'll have to use the cork unscrew. …. Oh! OOOOH!" And he fell back laughing, into the wet beach. "Ha di ha, ha di friggin har."

He got the hiccups, rolled over to his right and just basically lost the plot. Kurt fell down alongside him and laughed too. "Oh God, Sam, will we ever forget those days?"

"I hope not Kurt, I really,…. really….hope not."

~ Kurt loves Sam, Sam loves Kurt ~

Back in the beach house, in the lovely seaside suburb of Brighton, Sam puts the bottle on the kitchen bench and fetches the cork unscrewer.

"Well, this isn't how I remember getting one of these out." Sam glances up at Kurt, winks and smiles as the love of his life relaxes on their summer futon.

Kurt rolls onto his front, swings his legs behind so his heels tap his backside. His chin is supported by his hands and he starts softly singing more sexy Adam Lambert songs, "What do you want from me, oh Sam, what do you want from me? I'm here for your enterrrr….tainnnnn…ment, Sammmmm."

Sam comes down to the futon, gives Kurt a peck, and sits down in front of Kurt, on the floor. Looking over Sam's right shoulder, he starts nuzzling his neck. Then he grabs him for support as he nibbles on Sam.

"Nnnng, Kurt you want me to open this now?"

"Hmm, Nnnng or open? Decisions, decisions." He nips a little more, leaving a quality mark. "Open it now, lets see what it is. And then …."

Sam puts it in and pulls out the cork. A quality little POP, sounds! Turns the bottle up and a thin piece of paper comes out. It's scrolled up tightly. He unravels it.

Kurt hurriedly sits up and takes the intriguing paper from Sam's hold.

"This is really eerie Sam. I mean honestly, this is spooky stuff."

"When and where do you suppose it is from?"

"Um, ok you are not going to believe what I think." Kurt gives it to Sam to check out, gets up to ring Blaine. He dials, the phone rings, and rings, and rings. "No answer, two rings he normally answers or the machine kicks in. Three rings and nothing. Have you noticed that Sam, three rings now? And he doesn't even phone me back. Does he phone you back?"

Sam won't hurt Kurt ever, and that now involves not telling the full truth. "No he doesn't call me back either," sighs "and yeah three rings and no answering machine."

"Well, what do you make of it?"

"I'm thinking Dr Who…ish. May be some Catweazle sort of thing, considering the water." He's bobbing his head around, shrugging his shoulders, hands it back to Kurt.

"Well, it's the weirdest thing. Like it has his name and Carrie Bradshaw's, well Sarah Jessica Parker as Carrie Bradshaw. And my photo and Isabelle Wrights photo. Why would someone swap names and images like that?"

He takes the cold glass of punch Sam's poured and offered him. "hmmmm, that's good for my throat thanks?"

~ Kurt loves Sam, Sam loves Kurt ~

They snuggle up under a really heavy woolen blankie, on the now opened futon. 'Cause even though it's really sunny, the temperature is cold. The open fireplace with mallee root burning hasn't warmed the whole room.

Sam spoons behind Kurt and enjoys the scent of his hair. "Sam you tickle when you do that. Oh, no don't stop, I love it." And he pushes backward some, and Sam pushes forward some.

Kurt reads their treasure as Sam drifts off to sleep…..

~ Kurt loves Sam, Sam loves Kurt ~

And here is what the computer printed paper from a different time line / continuem reads:

Dearest LuLuBear,

I think Chris Colfer and Carrie Bradshaw are ideal for casting.

Look here's my statistics and a fun scenario. Can you let me know soonish, 'cause our window of opportunity might close too soon.

I'm trying to think like Carrie Bradshaw. When she went to work for vogue and got paid 40cents a word, I think that's how much she was getting.

So for all my stories: I would have: 32,144 words x 40cents = $12,857.60. Of course I'm including my author notes. And then a dollar a view: 1,157 just this month + words = $14,014.60. Of course, they wouldn't pay a $1 per view really, 'cause that's $1 a page. I think that's how I'm understanding the viewing thing.

I'll change back to the visitors then, we charge 'em $1 to walk through the door ($1,977 since I started uploading here perff those stats suck, something wrong I forgot the 40cents per word, so we rake in: $14,834.60. Looks better. looks more. don't worry about it. we make a bucket). Miss Amy grabs all the coats, ….and …. I get 'em drinks, you serve the cheese platters. We sit 'em down in the auditorium, giving 'em print outs of my stories, to take home. You, Miss Amy, …, and all your other friends are in the very centre rows or seats. But not taking up all the area, 'cause the audience are kind of around you all. My small contingent of friends are working the lighting display. But you're in the very immediate, centre seat.

I start with a boring conversation with my man Adam Lambert.. Him and I do a few numbers. I grab his guitarist, T and we get comfy elsewhere. Adam does a few more numbers. The show is wonderful, 'cause it just is.

A surprise guest starts reading/talking from a big chair, centre stage. The chair is not facing the audience, they are looking at the back of it. He's talking of his inspiration to write.

"Well, I came across some fan fiction and decided I wanted to do that too. I was bored, had lots of time on my hands and was reading all these great stories.

I'd seen some pieces at other sites, it was the cover art to some that caught my eye. Brilliant and beautiful. A few stories just took my breath away."

I stop pashing on with T and turn my microphone on: "Could you mention your favourite stories, or the ones that grabbed your fancy first?" Turn microphone off, don't listen and go back to what we were doing.

"Certainly, well I'd been eating cookies and got a tooth ache that made me cry, the computer unfroze and 'Tears and Cookies' came up. 48 chapters, very impressive. Then I rummaged around for some oil of cloves, applied that, sat back down and my computer was frozen on 'It Just Sort of Happened'. Oh, my I was in stitches of laughter. I could so imagine that really happening. When those two kiss and cuddle, oh my gets my heart a racing and Hmmm. I'm getting off topic, sorry folks."

Some rude audience members yawn loudly, I stand up and (nothing comes to mind on what to do), I sit back down and ...

"After reading that piece, I went for a drive, nearly had an accident and when I got to the coffee shop, the computer was stuck on 'The Crash'. After my favourite non-fat mocha, my boy-friend had a medium drip latte, I packed up and we drove to a nearby motel. When I turned on the telly, 'Give Me Strength' was on. Did you know that started as a fan fic story?"

The room is quiet, no one is daring to move or say anything. "Hello, can you hear me?"

Um, cue me "Yes, yes we are all enthralled in ... something, oh yes, in what you're saying. Please do continue. Yes I knew it started out that way. Did you know that most stories for the tv have probably been pinched from fan fic? But 'cause we don't own the copy right, we miss out on recognition?..." There's a lot of rustling sounds, 'cause T grabs my arms, pulls me back to him and I rush to turn the microphone off.

"No, I didn't. I'll continue with my wonderful story of how I got here. Well, I was wanting to join in the fun and I started writing what my heart and mind had been thinking about lately.

I wanted to start with the word 'The' and end with the word 'good-bye'. So that was my first book finished in a matter of weeks. I dedicated that to my Grandma. The cover art was exactly what I wanted. But the artist that I want for my next cover art, well I'm not sure how to get a hold of him/her. But I have hope for my next book. So story book one down, the next one was to start with 'The' and end with 'over'. Well actually I've done other books, but these one's are the only ones that the person writing this pm has." cough, cough, cough, ahem. "Any way, that's how I got started. Hello?"

T lovingly pries me off him and I sook then turn my microphone back on. I tidy me up, like Star Trek style. T tidies himself up, like Kurt does.

"Well that's lovely to know. Ladies and Gentlemen, please stay seated whilst I join our guest on stage."

T and I make our way back on stage. I'm facing you all, just behind the man in the chair. T holds my hand tight, he's so shy all of a sudden. I could dunk him in my coffee, that's how cute he is.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I really want to thank you for coming tonight. Please stand and thank our special guest, oh but first, RainySunnyEnding, my LuLuBear, please stand up." And you do and everyone else does too. "You are an exceptionally talented young lady. Please accept this as the beginning of your blind date with our guest here." And I gesture our guest to stand up and face you. He does and then walks down the steps, holds your hand, kisses it gently, kisses you softly on your cheek. And sits down with you to enjoy a few more performances of your favourite artists, that Miss Amy is yet to fill me in on. And we all applaud you. And you gesture to applaud him and me and T, and I applaud T too. Yay, we all applaud, eventually it quietens down.

He leans into you and asks "Have you ever been to Paris? My boyfriend and I have two spare flight seats and our chalet has room for two more to join us." You're still surprised, but aren't stage frightened at all. You're very comfortable and happy.

"I'll just have to check my schedule, and passport and ask (insert name). Are you sure about this?"

"Oh yeah! I'm very certain." He turns toward you and scrunches up his legs, leans in more, pulls you around to face him. "Hmm, let me put it to you this way. I kind of remember meeting you one time. I think you were very brave, but didn't hear what I said that first time." You blink a bit, and blush. "JoBelle, up there, gave me your copy of the book I signed for you, she got it off your shelf when her and Amy visited. Look inside the cover." And you do, you read it, tears are forming and you trace your fingers over the words. You look up at him apologetically, and mouth "I'm sorry." He takes the book and shows it to you. "I don't write things I don't mean. Look, it says, 'Please call me, here's my number ...'. "

The band are playing a mixture of Glee.

"Do you like making snowmen, who melt into freaky looking things? Well, there's a lot of snow at the chalet. Do you like Moulin Rouge, the movie I mean? Well..."

Lu, I'll send you this much now. And tweak it, see what it looks like. And call it 'The Touch Of The Finger Tips', or something else. Or not at all, if you don't like it. Oh wait I have to add a final inclusion. I have to write about not liking Courvoisier, yuk.

Jake is going to sing to Marley, on my telly right now. So you have to send me a list of your favourite songs and artists.

If you really look in your book, I scrubbed out what was written above and magic marked the original words he wrote for you, back in place. Sorry to get your hopes up.

At the end of the performance, cheerleader cannons boom out purple confetti, and the band, you and your friends, me and my friends. We all go back to my Penthouse 'till midnight. Then there's a fireworks display, and the grand announcement that I've bought the rights to Glee and Dalton by CP Coulter. Dalton will be coming to life, and Fox studios turn to you to bring your stories to life.

mwah for now.

Jo-gets-inspired-by-you-Belle FIVE ONE SIX

~ Kurt loves Sam, Sam loves Kurt ~

Over the back page was some hand written notes from LuLuBear to JoBelle516: "Look so and so, who saw him before me, asked about the illustrations on TLOS. They talked about the artist, and he said how much he loved him and what a good job he'd done. Also, he often sent him some ideas, which the artist brought to life, and some of them he discarded, some of them the author discarded. So, the author helped design those beautiful covers. Betcha didn't know that ;)"

~ Kurt loves Sam, Sam loves Kurt ~


little author notes, ('cause I'm a cute little author): This is imaginary funn, 'till I win some money.

Pst: Did you notice how Kurt and Sam can't and didn't say Chris's name and Chris didn't say Kurt's name. Well you can't do that in a freaky way, 'cause they'd disintegrate. Kind of like when we go back and forth in the time machine, and if we come across ourselves. We have to hide, kind of like when Harry P characters did. They'd have imploded and the world would hate me so much. But I didn't do it, I didn't do it!

Not a diary entry, 'cause honestly my life is soooo boring. Open page, look at page, write entry "I opened the page, looked at the page and this is what I wrote."

So many viewers, so many visitors, so much moula I could be making. But so much moula we can't waste. So don't waste the opportunity to put a little comment or review.

And for opportunities: I'll keep you informed of my changes in my profile.

PM me, if there's any opportunities I'm missing out on. 'K loves S, S loves K', and I love everything I've been reading. thumbs up and winks.