Kurt's loft is quiet around them, with only the occasional hum of the refrigerator interrupting the silence every now and then. They're sitting at the dining room table, empty water glasses forgotten next to their elbows, and Kurt twirls a coin in his fingers, skillfully shifting it from one knuckle to the other as he reads the case file and worries his lower lip between his teeth in concentration.

Blaine should be concentrating on his own copy of the file, on trying to figure out how they could solve the case they're working on (insider trading, and the amount of money involved in the case means they should try to solve it as quick as possible) – but he can't help but follow the coin's movement over Kurt's knuckles with his eyes. Kurt's fingers are long and graceful, and the coin never stops or wobbles even though Kurt doesn't seem to pay any attention to it. The late evening sunlight catches on the coin every now and then, and Blaine knows he's not being exactly subtle in his staring, but he can't seem to make himself stop.

Elegance. Effortless elegance. That's what Blaine often thinks about these days when he watches the way Kurt moves, the way he weaves between people in New York's busy streets with his head held up high. Blaine knows he himself has always been good at faking confidence, at putting on a brave face and making everyone believe that he knows what he's doing. He doesn't have to fake that much anymore – he knows his own strengths and weaknesses now, or at least knows them better than he did years ago back in Ohio – but somehow Kurt just seems to... exude confidence in his fitting suits and impeccable hair, in his precise and skillful movements.

Blaine knows that Kurt can be insecure as well; he has seen Kurt's shoulders slumped and his eyes dull, but the difference between them is that Kurt seems to decide every morning that he's going to be confident, that he's going to beat whatever challenges the world throws in his way, and then he completely assimilates that decision until his whole body is thrumming with it.

As if he's deciding that he can face everything, and then actually faces it with his chin up.

"Lost in your thoughts?" Kurt asks suddenly.

Blaine startles, blinking his eyes until he realizes that Kurt is looking at him with his eyebrows raised in amusement, the coin still skipping over his knuckles.

"Um," Blaine stammers, trying to clear his head. "Yeah, just lost in my thoughts." He nods towards the coin. "And wondering how you're doing that."

"This?" The coin stops, and Kurt flips it on his thumb, tosses it in the air and then catches it with his hand. "Years of practice."

Blaine lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Y-yeah, sure. So you're telling me that you're not just a natural talent?"

Kurt shrugs. "I'm not. I... I used to be a bit of a klutz when I was a kid," he admits and smiles down at the coin. "I mean, most of the time I had perfect control over my movements, but every now and then I would trip over my own feet or stumble when I was practicing some move or just do something really awkward." He looks up, and his smile is almost a little wistful. "Con-men can't exactly be awkward, so... Years of practice."

Blaine stares at him, suddenly aware of his heartbeat. This has been happening more and more often recently – Kurt dropping tidbits of information about his past in the middle of a conversation, as if he's offering them for free at the exact right moments. They're never anything huge, never anything about his family or about where he grew up or what made him choose a life of crime, but they still paint a picture of who Kurt was before he became a con-man.

It started one morning when they were sitting in the conference room after a long stake-out – Blaine, Kurt, Sam and Tina, all of them in various states of tiredness. Somehow the conversation turned to the ridiculous Halloween costumes of their childhood, to Sam painting his skin blue so he could look like a Na'vi and Tina scaring her high school teacher with her vampire costume. Blaine told them about the year when he was around four or five and dressed up as young Anakin Skywalker from Star Wars Episode I. Cooper was young Obi-Wan Kenobi that year, and he almost poked out their neighbor's eye with his lightsaber.

Blaine was honestly a little surprised that he didn't feel any bangs of sadness when he finished the story. Those costumes had been years and years ago, back when he still idolized Cooper and Cooper still thought he was worthwhile, back when things were simpler, before... before everything, and Blaine was getting lost in his thoughts already, when Kurt suddenly straightened in his seat and opened his mouth.

"I dressed up as Lady Gaga in high school."

They all turned to look at him, Blaine's thoughts scattering everywhere all at once. Kurt was grinning, his posture relaxed, sitting there between three agents without a care in the world. Blaine stared at him, and then he realized – this was Kurt keeping his promise even though Blaine hadn't asked. This was Kurt opening up and offering something about himself, some ordinary piece of information that wouldn't matter that much to anyone else but that still somehow made Blaine feel weirdly... touched.

Because this was Kurt, the mystery he had been trying to solve for years, the man who grinned and hid behind blinding confidence; this was Kurt showing parts of himself that Blaine had never even dared to imagine.

"Dude, that sounds so cool," Sam gushed. "What did you wear?"

Kurt smiled, leaning back on his chair. "It was... That sequined silver dress from Bad Romance?"

Tina's eyes widened. "With the shoes?"

"With the shoes," Kurt confirmed, his smile widening when Tina winced. "They weren't that bad, they just took some getting used to. And my feet hurt like hell the next day, but it was worth it."

"Please tell me someone took pictures," Sam said with a grin.

Kurt winked. "Oh, naturally." There was a brief flash of something in his eyes, something Blaine would've missed if he hadn't been looking; something that looked a lot like longing, even though Kurt's smile was still as wide as it had been. "But I don't exactly carry old photos with me," he added with a small shrug.

The conversation moved to other things after that, but Blaine kept glancing at Kurt, still a little surprised by the story. Kurt met his eyes across the room and smiled at him, all him and no con-man, and Blaine smiled back, something warm unfurling inside of him.

After that the random little stories have been happening at least once a week, always when Blaine least expects them. Kurt has told him about the first bowtie he had as a kid, about the places he's been to, about the mundane everyday happenings of his past, things that everyone else sprinkles into conversation almost automatically. But with Kurt Blaine knows that they mean something else. They are about Kurt showing Blaine something not a lot of people have seen before him, something that demands trust.

It feels... nice, to know that Kurt feels like he can trust Blaine with this.

"Years of practice," Blaine repeats, looking away. He once told his superiors that every single new alias Kurt Hummel makes is a reinvention of the previous ones, with barely nothing surviving of the original. Perhaps Kurt himself is a reinvention as well; a boy who was a bit clumsy and dressed up as Lady Gaga at Halloween and who then turned into the man sitting in front of Blaine in his designer clothes and with the perfect air of confidence. Blaine's smile turns a little sadder. "That sounds... rough."

Kurt shrugs, turning the coin over in his hands. "It was a good distraction."

"From what?" Blaine asks.

Kurt doesn't look at him. "From the way things were back then."

Blaine can sense that this is starting to be too much, too personal, can see Kurt starting to dance around the topic, and he clears his throat softly, pushing away from the table and standing up. He takes his own empty water glass and reaches for Kurt's.

"I'm going to get some more water before we continue working on the case," he says. "Do you want some as well?"

Kurt does look at him now, and his smile is grateful. "Sure. Thanks."

In the kitchen Blaine fills the glasses with cold water and then stands still for a moment, leaning against the counter and taking deep breaths. They have been coming over to each other's apartments more and more since the Gilbert case, working on case files at Blaine's apartment or at Kurt's loft, and Blaine already knows his way around Kurt's apartment almost as well as he does his own. He knows that Kurt can't see him from the dining room when he stands right in this spot, trying to calm his heart and his mind.

The glimpses into Kurt's past not only make Blaine feel trusted and thankful, but they also make him want to reach over the table and take Kurt's hand in his own; to stand up, walk over to him and wrap his arms around him, the way he did all those weeks ago in his apartment when Kurt said he'd like them to be friends as if it was a question and not an actual possibility.

They make Blaine want to lean over the table and press his lips against Kurt's, to finally find out what Kurt's smile tastes like so he wouldn't have to imagine it anymore.

But there are some lines Blaine won't cross. Just Kurt's friendship is more than enough; it's quickly becoming the closest relationship Blaine's ever had with anyone, as bizarre as it sounds, and Blaine can't risk it. Not to mention that he can't risk his job or Kurt's job. Tina has told him that there are still agents at the Bureau who think that Kurt is conning him, and even if Kurt felt the same way about Blaine as Blaine feels about him, he can't... Blaine can't give those agents more ammunition against Kurt. He won't be that selfish.

(If someone would've told him years ago that he would fall this badly for his CI, for the Songbird, for Kurt Hummel, he would've probably...

Well. He probably wouldn't have been that surprised, actually.)

Blaine takes one more deep breath before he takes the now full glasses from the counter and walks back to the dining room. He smiles when he sees Kurt still sitting at the table, carefully adjusting the monitor around his ankle.

"I'm guessing that thing doesn't need any more getting used to," Blaine points out and puts Kurt's glass in front of him on the table. "Here."

"Thanks," Kurt replies, straightening and taking a sip of the water. "You took your time."

Blaine gives an apologetic smile and tries not to think about Kurt's lips. "I got lost in my thoughts again," he admits. "But this time it could be useful." He picks up the case file and starts scanning it, trying to find the right report. "We'll probably have to send someone undercover to the company –"

Kurt's eyes lights up, an excited grin practically breaking his face in half. "Undercover? Ooh."

Blaine laughs. "Yes, that someone will probably be you. But not just because you're our resident criminal informant." He finally finds the right report and pushes the file over the table to Kurt. "The name on the third line sounded familiar to me, but I placed it only now. It's probably familiar to you as well?"

"Natalie Arrow," Kurt reads, leaning back in his chair. "You're right, she most likely is connected to the insider trading," he muses. "It's right up her alley. I might have done some business with her once upon a time. Allegedly." He sniffs and lifts his chin a little.

Blaine raises his eyebrows.

"Fine, Curtis Lawrence might have done some business with her," Kurt corrects and rolls his eyes.

"I'm starting to feel glad that we didn't burn all of your aliases when we were closing in on you," Blaine says wryly.

"But you did burn a lot of them," Kurt mumbles and then looks at the file again. "So, what? You think Curtis should pay Natalie Arrow a visit after all these years?"

Blaine hums an affirmative and leans his elbows against the table. "Maybe he could ask her some questions..."

"... see if she would like to let him in on the scam to keep him quiet about whatever it is she's doing," Kurt finishes for him, flashing a smile. "I like the way you think, Anderson."

Blaine ducks his head with a laugh and scratches the back of his head. "Thanks. I'll talk to my superiors, and if they accept the undercover assignment, we'll start to spread the word about Curtis Lawrence's return tomorrow. If that's okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Kurt says. He sighs theatrically. "Oh, Curtis – I've missed him."

"You've missed him or missed being him?" Blaine asks, confused, as he starts to gather up all the files and papers strewn all over the table.

"Him," Kurt replies cheekily.

Blaine shakes his head in amusement. "Sometimes I really don't understand you." He stops when he picks up one of the papers underneath Kurt's files and sees that the previously blank sheet is full of light pencil sketches. "Kurt? Did you draw these?" he asks, confused.

"Hm? Oh, those." Kurt actually blushes, and Blaine stares at the way the color spreads over his cheeks. "It's kind of what I do? For stress relief. Or when I'm working on something. Just to have something to do with my hands, kind of like with the coin."

Blaine looks down at the paper again. The sketches are all of various articles of clothing, flowing lines of outfits blending together across the white paper – suits and dresses and coats and even a few bowties. They are clearly just rough sketches with minimal shading, and in some places the pencil lines are so faint that Blaine has to squint to see them. But even though Blaine's knowledge of fashion is obviously not as extensive as Kurt's, and the last time he saw sketches of clothes was when a designer dress was stolen six months ago and his team investigated the theft, he can still tell that these sketches are more than just stress relief or idle doodles.

"Kurt," he says in a low voice, following the lines of the clothes with his eyes. "These are beautiful."

Kurt waves his hand in the air, brushing the comment away. "No, no, they're just something I do. You've seen my forgeries, Blaine. These doodles can't even compare to any of those."

"But these aren't forgeries," Blaine counters, setting the paper carefully on the table, away from the case files and reports so it doesn't get lost. "These are your own work. Originals. And I think they're gorgeous." He looks up at Kurt with a small smile. "I wouldn't mind wearing one of these designs myself."

"Oh. Well." Kurt blushes an even deeper shade of red. "I've been drawing clothes ever since I can remember, so it's just... I've gotten used to it, that's all." He takes the sketches from the table and looks at them himself, his brows furrowing.

"Could I..." Blaine starts, hesitating as he puts a pile of case files on the table and then gestures at the sketches. "Could I keep them? I mean, if you don't want to have them yourself?"

"Blaine." Kurt sounds both confused and amused. "They're just some silly sketches I drew while I was trying to figure out the case, that's all. They're not exactly a masterpiece. I was just going to throw them away or something."

"I'd like to have a Kurt Hummel original," Blaine argues with a smile. "I mean, yes, your forgeries are amazing, but this is something you came up with on your own. That deserves to be kept."

Kurt stares at him, his eyebrows raised. "You really want to keep this?"

"Yes."

"You do realize I'll probably just draw some more the next time I'm working?" Kurt says but hands over the sketches to Blaine anyway.

"You shouldn't throw those away either." Blaine takes the paper and gently touches the sketch of a bowtie at the bottom of the page. "You might have use for them one day."

Kurt shakes his head in amusement. "You're being weirdly persistent about a bunch of silly doodles, Blaine."

"Not silly," Blaine objects. He slips the sketches between his own case files, making sure they won't get crumpled on his way home. "They're beautiful."

Kurt looks at him, tilting his head. He's quiet for a long while, as if he's considering Blaine's words, but eventually he shakes his head with a small smile and says, "Fine. Keep them. And I promise I won't throw them away anymore, if you really think I shouldn't."

"Thank you." Blaine thinks about the small wooden box he has on top of his bookshelf at home, the one where he keeps all the birthday cards and notes Kurt sent from prison or from the run. When he gets home, he's going to slip the sketches in the box with the others for safe-keeping – as a reminder of how far they've come.

He can feel a fond smile tugging at his lips, and when he looks up Kurt is still staring at him, something hiding right behind his eyes, something secretive in the curve of his own smile, and the urge to reach over the table and kiss that smile is even harder to resist this time.

The worst part of it all is that Blaine can read Kurt, can understand his emotions better than anyone else at the Bureau, and sometimes the secretive shade falling over Kurt's face looks a lot like a reflection of Blaine's own feelings, directed right at him – but even if Blaine can read Kurt, there are some things Kurt is exceptionally good at hiding, some things Blaine doesn't recognize for sure, some things that seem too good to be real, and the moment he starts to doubt is also always the moment he remembers what they are, who they are, and what kind of people are waiting for them at the office every day.

Blaine clears his throat and looks away. "I... I should get home. It's getting late."

"Oh." Kurt blinks, as if he was the one lost in his thoughts this time. "Right. Yes. Perry probably misses you already." He grins.

Blaine laughs. "She misses me even if I just go to the grocery store for five minutes."

Kurt's grin turns softer, the way the corners of his lips turn up catching Blaine's attention again.

"Of course she does," Kurt says in a quiet voice, and Blaine has no idea what to make of it.

---

Sam slams the door of the van closed, grins at Tina and then flops unceremoniously down on his seat in front of the computer. "Man, I love the van."

"Noted," Tina comments dryly, not even moving her eyes away from the screen.

"It makes me feel like we're actually doing something, you know?" Sam continues, turning to look at Blaine when it's clear that Tina isn't going to be captivated enough. "Like we're actually solving crimes! Yeah!"

He punches Blaine's shoulder lightly, and Blaine turns to look at him. His smile is probably a little long-suffering, but he can't exactly help it. "Sam," he says slowly. "You give this same speech every time we have a stake-out and have to spend time at the van. You love the van. We know."

Sam leans back in his chair, gesturing with his hands and ignoring Blaine's words. "Don't get me wrong, dude, I know writing reports is important and being out on the field is pretty awesome as well, but – the van. The van! There's just something about it."

Blaine shakes his head with a laugh. "Whatever you say, man." He is about to continue when he hears a scratching noise from the headphones dangling around his neck and quickly lifts them to his ears.

"I'm one block away from the company," Kurt's voice says in a whisper in his ear. "Just thought I'd let you know."

Blaine pulls the headphones back down. "Okay, people, we're on in a moment!" Everyone in the van straightens up, focusing on their equipment. "Kurt has a microphone and a GPS tracker, so we can hear everything that happens and track him if something goes wrong," Blaine reminds them. "Unfortunately we couldn't risk putting a camera on him, but there are a few agents with hidden cameras right outside the building, and we should have access to the security cameras inside the company, right?"

"Yep," Tina answers brightly, pulling up all the footage from the building's lobby on her screen. "Thank you, cooperative security firms," she trills.

"More like thank you, court orders." Blaine rubs his neck for a moment. "Tina, you keep your eyes on the cameras. Sam, if Natalie Arrow mentions any names or anything, check them from our database and see if we can get any clues from them."

"Got it." Sam turns back to his computer.

"Let's do this. I'm putting Kurt's microphone on speakers," Blaine says, clicks a few buttons until the hum from the microphone fills the van, and then moves his own chair closer to Tina so he can see the cameras as well. "Here we go," he whispers.

The cameras outside the building show Kurt walking to the entrance and stopping right in front of the doors for a moment, as if he's making sure he's in the right place. Blaine knows that Curtis Lawrence is different from the real Kurt, and as he watches Kurt from the monitor he can clearly see how. Curtis walks and moves in a more relaxed way than Kurt does as himself – his gestures are lazier, softer in some way, and even his clothes are more laid-back than what Kurt himself wears to the office. They're still high fashion, since this is the world of white collar workers with a lot of money to spend on clothes, but they're not exactly the cutting-edge articles of clothing Blaine is used to seeing on Kurt.

Kurt seemingly takes a deep breath outside the entrance, and then he opens the door and steps in, walking up to the reception desk. Tina quickly switches to the security cameras inside the lobby, and Blaine turns up the volume on the speakers.

"I'm here to see Natalie Arrow?" Kurt says to the woman sitting behind the desk, and even from the camera footage Blaine can see him flashing quick smile that makes the woman duck her head, obviously charmed by the famous Hummel smile.

"Yes sir, just a moment –" the woman starts, but the voice of another woman stops her.

"No need to call me, Celia, I'm already here." Natalie Arrow walks across the lobby, stops next to Kurt and offers him her hand. Her eyes seem to give Kurt a curious once-over, and Blaine hopes the few years Kurt – and therefore Curtis – has been out of business won't make her too suspicious. A lot of this case depends on Kurt, and on the way he acts today.

"Curtis Lawrence," Natalie continues, drawing out the name. "Long time no see. I heard from our mutual acquaintance that you were traveling through Europe."

Sam turns around to look at Blaine. "Mutual acquaintance?" he repeats, keeping his voice low so he doesn't disturb the speakers.

Blaine shrugs. "No idea who she's talking about. Let's keep it in mind in case it becomes relevant."

Kurt takes Natalie Arrow's hand and shakes it. He immediately pushes his hands in his pockets afterwards, and Blaine frowns at the gesture.

"Our mutual acquaintance," Kurt is saying over the microphone, his voice a little wistful, and Blaine focuses back on the conversation. "I haven't heard from her in a long time," Kurt continues. "Just like I haven't heard from you, Natalie. But you've obviously moved up in the world."

Natalie laughs and looks around the lobby. "Obviously," she repeats and then pauses, tilting her head at Kurt. "How was Europe?"

"Beautiful," Kurt answers and grins. "But boring, especially when compared to New York."

Natalie considers his words. "You were very cryptic in your message, Curtis. Why don't we take this conversation to my office?" She gestures towards the back of the lobby and slowly takes a step away from Kurt.

"I was hoping you'd suggest that," Kurt says, his grin widening. "Lead the way."

Blaine leans closer to Tina as Kurt and Natalie start walking towards the elevators. "Do we have access to the security cameras in her office?"

Tina shakes her head. "Unfortunately, no. The security firm refused to give us access to any of the footages coming from individual offices, and the court order doesn't cover them. We only have the lobby, the elevators and the open areas on each floor. Corridors and break rooms and such."

"Okay." Blaine leans away, resisting the urge to run his fingers through his hair. "We can still hear him, so keep monitoring the elevator and the hallway outside Natalie's office." When Tina nods, he turns to look at Sam. "Have you found anything new on Natalie Arrow?"

Sam shrugs. "Nothing we didn't already know."

"Let's keep listening, then." Blaine pushes his chair away from the monitors, trusting that Tina will let him know if something comes up. He lifts his headphones back over his ears and listens to the way Kurt and Natalie's voices fill his ears, focuses on the conversation so he can pick up any and all hesitations or slip-ups Natalie Arrow might make.

They are working, and Kurt isn't exactly himself right now, so it's almost surprisingly easy not to pay too much attention to the way Kurt's voice rises and falls, to the almost musical intonation of his words. Blaine does like Kurt's voice, loves how unique it is, how changeable and still completely under Kurt's control, but this time he is willing to ignore it. He still has a job to do, after all.

In the end they don't get much out of the cameras anyway, but when Kurt slips inside the van an hour later he swears that Natalie is a part of the insider trading. He knows her tells, knows the way she works, and he's certain that what they're investigating is in some way connected to her. They listen through the recording of the meeting once again, and Kurt points out moments where Natalie hesitated or accidentally gave something away, and when they're done, Blaine is pretty sure they are on their way to solving the case.

He lets everyone go home after that, even though it's not that late yet. Sam does love the van and Blaine himself doesn't mind it anymore, not after years and years of stake-outs and hours spent sitting on the uncomfortable chairs, but everyone else finds it suffocating and stuffy, and the stale air inside it practically makes anyone feel a little more tired than they normally would around this time of the day. It's no surprise that Tina practically dances out of the van when Blaine tells her to go home.

Blaine gives Kurt a ride home, just like he does almost every day, and as they discuss the case in the car he considers asking Kurt about the mutual acquaintance Natalie mentioned. In the end he decides not to. It doesn't seem relevant to the case, and if Kurt doesn't want to volunteer that information, it's even less relevant. Their relationship is still a careful balance of trust, and Blaine has silently promised himself not to ask Kurt about things that are not relevant to a case or to the terms of Kurt's deal. If Kurt wants to volunteer something, like those small stories of his childhood, Blaine is more than happy to listen.

But he won't ask for them.

He goes home, makes dinner for himself and Perry, watches the game for a while, and then, when his mind refuses to stop working, he switches the TV off and sits down at his dining room table, going through the evidence and reports they have on the case so far. Perry settles down next to his feet, falling asleep almost immediately, and Blaine glances at her with a smile when her paws start moving and her muzzle twitching as she dreams. His own eyelids are drooping as well after a few hours, and eventually he pushes the files away, resting his head on his hands and staring out of the dining room window, lost in his thoughts.

His phone starts ringing on the table after a while, and Blaine startles in surprise and glances at the clock. It's half past eleven, and when he looks down at the phone, he doesn't recognize the number flashing on the screen. Perry growls quietly and kicks his foot with her paw.

"Fine, fine, I'll answer it," Blaine mumbles and lifts the phone to his ear. "Agent Anderson."

"This is Matthews from the Marshal's office. Is your CI Kurt Hummel with you right now?"

Blaine straightens up, suddenly more awake. "Um, no. I dropped him off at his apartment a few hours ago. Is everything alright?"

The woman on the other end of the line, apparently the person responsible for Kurt's tracking anklet, sighs. "Well, you tell me, agent. Mr. Hummel just stepped outside his radius for a few seconds and then stepped right back in."

"W-what?" Blaine scrambles to his feet, reaching for his laptop on the other side of the table. Perry rolls over, woken up by the sudden movement, and looks at him from the floor. "Are you sure?" Blaine asks.

"Positive," Matthews says. "He seems to be heading back to his apartment now, but the data shows him standing right on the edge of his radius for almost thirty minutes until he stepped over and then stepped back in. I understand he has the permission to be outside his radius only when he has an agent with him?"

Blaine clicks the tracking data open on his laptop and waits for the program to load up. He rarely even checks Kurt's data, because there haven't been any problems since and before the Gilbert case, and even then it wasn't Kurt's fault.

"That's right," he answers. "He can go anywhere he wants to as long as me or someone else from the Bureau is with him. But I'm not with him, and neither is anyone else. At least as far as I know."

Matthews hums. "We have no information about any agents being with him either. It was just a brief step over the perimeter, but I thought I'd let you know since this hasn't happened before."

Blaine stares at the data of Kurt's anklet on his screen, and... There, just a few minutes ago – the little dot on the map that shows Kurt's location turns red for five seconds before it moves back inside the radius and turns green again. Blaine plays the same time frame again and again, getting more and more confused every time. Kurt has always stayed inside his radius. Even when he goes out for a walk or "reacquaints himself with the city", as he once told Blaine, he always stays carefully within the perimeter, skirting the areas where he could accidentally step outside. But now the tracking data clearly shows him walking to a certain spot, standing still for a long while and then stepping outside his radius for a few seconds before he steps back and walks away.

Perry lets out a low-pitched whine and butts her head against Blaine's calf.

"Agent Anderson? Are you still there?"

Blaine shakes his head when the voice from his phone startles him from his thoughts. "Y-yeah, sorry. I was just watching the tracking data myself. I have no idea what he's doing out there."

"Well, I'm afraid that's your problem. He's heading back to his apartment now, so I just thought I'd let you know."

"Yeah, I can see that. I'm sure there's an explanation for this slip," Blaine says more to himself than to the Marshal. "Thanks for calling."

"No problem. Have a nice evening."

There's a click on the other end of the line as the call disconnects, but Blaine doesn't lower his phone from his ear. He doesn't sit back down, doesn't react when Perry whines again and nudges his leg more insistently, doesn't take his eyes off the tracking data on his laptop screen where the green dot is slowly moving towards Kurt's apartment.

It's such a small thing, such a momentary slip, and Blaine would love to think that it's nothing, that this was just some random mistake of Kurt stepping outside his radius by accident, that perhaps he forgot the anklet for a moment, forgot the deal and everything it entails, and that's all it was. A small mistake. A tiny event in the grand scheme of things where Kurt has never stepped outside his perimeter and has always followed the terms of their deal. Blaine was the one who messed up last time, not Kurt. Kurt seems to actually enjoy his current life, even if it's probably far from ideal, and he knows that breaking the rules of their deal would bring consequences not only to him but to Blaine as well.

But that's the problem. In the grand scheme of Kurt Hummel there are no momentary slips. There are no details that don't matter, no accidents, and when Blaine finally sits down again, his hand unconsciously reaching down to pet Perry's head, he can't help but hope his gut instinct and knowledge of Kurt Hummel will be wrong just this once.