Kurt has been acting weird for the last two weeks. Well, weirder than he usually does, and even though Blaine is quite good at reading Kurt's emotions, he has no idea what's going on this time. It's as if Kurt gets lost in his thoughts more often than usual, his brows furrowing and eyes staring into the distance – and sometimes he flinches noticeably when Blaine pats his shoulder but doesn't even twitch when Sam claps him on the back. More than once Blaine has looked up from his case files to see Kurt staring at him, apparently completely lost in thought, and when their eyes have met Kurt has immediately flashed a grin, one of those false smiles Blaine used to see targeted at unsuspecting victims of Kurt's crimes, the one that seems to say, "you will regret this, but you should still trust me".

It bugs Blaine. It makes him feel unsure about things he used to be so sure about, makes him question those mornings when Kurt knocks on his door with two coffee cups and plays with his dog, makes him reconsider those doubts he has already put to rest. He doesn't know if he's seeing signs of Kurt plotting an escape plan or of Kurt getting used to his new life; or perhaps even of both, of some third option Blaine hasn't even considered.

It doesn't affect their work and everyone else at the office doesn't even seem to notice it. Tina is still a little suspicious – perfectly polite and good-natured around Kurt, but Blaine can see the glances Tina sometimes directs at them, like she's making sure that Blaine isn't getting in too deep. Sam on the other hand is completely himself, accepting Kurt and his input easily and always making sure that Kurt feels like a part of team. Sam even goes as far as asking Kurt to join him and some of the probies for a beer once. Kurt's horrified expression made his answer clear.

So Blaine keeps going like before, enjoying the connection that has developed between him and Kurt during the little over a month they've been working together. He keeps solving crimes with his team and going home to Perry every night, keeps feeling like the morning comes too soon every day for his mind to put everything that happens during the day in the right order.

(At the same time in the back of his mind he's mentally cataloguing every offbeat reaction, every moment when Kurt does something out of the ordinary, or at least out of Kurt's scope of ordinary. He is practically waiting for the other shoe to drop.)

"I still think the culprit used the ventilation shafts to get out of the gallery," Blaine says and opens the office door for Kurt. It's a little over noon, and they're going to get a quick lunch from the deli down the street before coming back to the office to continue working on the art gallery theft that happened yesterday.

Kurt slips through the doorway, shaking his head. "Have you ever tried to get out of a building through its ventilation shafts? It's not exactly easy, Blaine." He pushes the button of the elevator and stops to watch the numbers go up. "Besides, I took a look at the gallery's shafts, and they were pretty small. The culprit would have to be on the smaller side to fit into them."

It's moments like these when everything feels normal, when they're discussing a case and Kurt is sharing valuable information and there are no awkward looks or unnatural reactions. Blaine ducks his head and smiles to himself, stopping to stand next to Kurt.

"Alright," he concedes after a moment, "even if escaping through the ventilation shafts still sounds really cool to me."

Kurt snorts. "Dork. This is real life, not an action movie."

"You should know, I suppose," Blaine continues, still grinning. "This whole crime has a very Kurt Hummel-esque feeling, if you ask me."

Kurt glances at him with a matching grin. "Why? Because the target was an art gallery and the culprit managed to charm the security guard to let him in after closing time and then disappeared without a trace, leaving nothing behind – except a missing sculpture?"

Blaine gives out a laugh. "Pretty much." The elevator's numbers stop at the 21st floor, and eventually the doors slide open. "I bet the security guard has something to do with the whole thing," Blaine adds as he steps into the elevator. "I know that the cameras show him sitting in his office when the sculpture disappeared, but why else would he have let the culprit in and then given a very general description of him that won't lead us anywhere?"

"Never underestimate the charm of a good con-man," Kurt says plainly, his eyes looking somewhere far away once again.

Blaine stops, his finger hovering over the button of the ground floor. "Right," he answers after a while, clearing his throat and pushing the button. "We can talk about it more after lunch. I'm starving."

Kurt almost bumps into Sam when he steps out of the elevator on the ground floor, but he quickly corrects his movement and steps aside, flashing an apologetic smile at Sam. Sam grins at them both and apparently doesn't even notice the weird atmosphere between them, even though Blaine feels like it's suddenly suffocating him, the not-knowing what's exactly going on inside Kurt's head.

"Back from your lunch already?" Blaine asks, mock-punching Sam in the shoulder as they pass each other.

"Yeah, I got a call from one of the techs," Sam says, slipping into the elevator but keeping his hand between the doors so they can keep talking. "They found a fingerprint on the glass surrounding the sculpture. It's just a partial print and apparently it's really smudgy, but I'm gonna go run it and wait for the results."

"Great!" Blaine exclaims. "Let's hope we're lucky. Call me if you get the results before we get back?"

"Will do," Sam says in his best Sean Connery impression before giving a salute and letting the elevator doors close between them.

Blaine turns around, suddenly feeling better and more hopeful about everything, only to notice that Kurt is standing almost right behind him, a curious look in his eyes. "What?" Blaine asks, frowning in confusion.

"He never calls you boss or anything like that," Kurt points out, his eyes searching Blaine's face.

"Who, Sam?" Blaine scratches the back of his head. "We worked together for years before I got my own team and we're the same age. It'd be weird if he called me boss." He starts towards the front door, gesturing for Kurt to follow.

"None of them call you boss, though," Kurt adds. He straightens his bowtie, dark green today, and glances at Blaine, the curious look still present. "I heard some of the youngest probies call you boss for a few days right after they joined the team but then they started to call you by your first name as well."

Blaine shrugs. "We're a team. Everything we do is a team effort, whether we succeed or fail. I don't really think of us as a group of individuals, but as a team with several different people who are all good at something but even better together." He tilts his head, squinting his eyes in thought as he stops to open the front door for Kurt. "I know I'm technically the leader of this team, but... It'd be weird to be called the boss. I mean, I have superiors too, you know?"

Kurt pushes his hands into his pockets and turns to look at Blaine when they start walking towards the deli. "That makes sense." He almost seems to hesitate before the next question, but then he gets it out. "Are you friends? You and Sam, I mean?"

Blaine falters in his steps. Friends. He used to have dozens of so-called friends in high school and in college, but they all usually wanted something from him, his skills or his help or something else, and he has never really had a friend he could call in the middle of the night if he needed to, someone who would understand him from half a word and share almost every aspect of his life, from good days to bad. He was always popular, but even now he only has a few casual acquaintances outside the Bureau. He's used to it, used to the way his life tends to work out, but Kurt's question still surprises him. A few years ago he would've shrugged and said no, he and Agent Evans are just colleagues, but now...

"I guess we are," he admits quietly after a while, surprising himself. "We do sometimes hang out outside the Bureau and we talk about other things than work as well, so..." He pauses when he suddenly realizes that he's baring his soul to Kurt once again. "Why do you ask?"

Kurt averts his eyes, absent-mindedly flashing a small smile. "Just curious, that's all."

Lunch is quiet. Kurt stares into space again, eating his sandwich slowly, and Blaine tries not to drop any of his salad on the suit he's wearing, the one he just got back from the dry cleaner's yesterday. He flicks through the newspaper the previous customer left on the table as he eats, and one of the advertisements on the front page catches his eye.

"Huh," he says out loud, noticing from the corner of his eyes how Kurt startles from his thoughts. "I didn't know there was going to be a new revival of West Side Story."

Kurt hums and takes a bite of his sandwich. "It has gotten good reviews so far."

"Oh?" Blaine takes a better look at the advertisement. "This ad especially seems to praise the actress playing Maria, a... Rachel Berry? I don't think I've heard of her before."

Kurt swallows his food. "She's good."

Blaine looks up at Kurt, at the way Kurt is staring at something over Blaine's shoulder, his fingers tapping against the table almost nervously. "Have you seen her in something before?" Blaine asks.

"Yes." Kurt shrugs. "It was years ago, but she was already good. She's probably gotten even better since then."

Blaine tilts his head. There's something odd in Kurt's voice, something hiding beneath the surface, as if he's avoiding something about his past more than he usually does. They talk about Blaine's personal life probably more than Blaine even realizes, talk about Blaine's past and their shared past, about Kurt's alleged crimes and all the exciting adventures he's had, but they never even scratch the surface of Kurt's personal history. When Blaine thinks about the slump in Kurt's shoulders when he was caught the second time, he's not sure if he even wants to ask, if he wants to push Kurt to open up.

"Are you going to go see this new revival then?" he asks, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

Kurt meets his eyes and gives a small grin. "I can't even if I wanted to." He gestures at his anklet. "The theatre is outside my radius."

"I could go with you?" Blaine suggests, pointing at the newspaper with his fork.

Kurt stops and stares at Blaine, his eyes wide open in surprise.

"I mean," Blaine explains when his mind catches up with his mouth, "you need to have an agent with you if you're going somewhere outside your radius. And I could go see West Side Story anyway. It's one of my favorites. And I know how you feel about musicals."

Kurt blinks, and for a long moment his face is completely expressionless, a careful mask of nothing, until his lips slowly turn into that awkward false smile that always makes Blaine feel uncomfortable. It makes him feel like Kurt is playing him, or at least trying to, like Kurt doesn't realize that all Blaine wants is what's best for Kurt. He fought against his superiors to make this partnership a reality partly because of horribly selfish reasons, but also because he wanted Kurt to have another chance. He wanted Kurt to see something else than the gray prison walls for the next four years.

"I'll think about it," Kurt finally says and pushes the newspaper away. "Now, Blaine, do you want me to tell you a completely hypothetical story about how a certain con-man once got out of a building through its ventilation shafts? Just to give you an idea of the reality?"

Blaine forces a smile on his face, forces the doubts out of his mind for the rest of his lunch. "Sure."

---

Blaine has just sat down behind his desk, flexed his fingers and started to go through the e-mails he has received during his lunch break, when Sam practically runs into his office, shuts the door behind him with a loud clunk and then slumps back to lean against it. Blaine startles and blinks his eyes at him, surprised by the sudden appearance.

"What's up?" he asks, standing up and taking a step towards Sam.

"I got the results back," Sam says, his voice sounding thin. He waves the file he's holding in the air, his movements jerky and nervous. "From that partial fingerprint."

"And you found a match? Was it in the database?" Blaine asks, extending his hand towards the file.

Sam pulls his own hand back. "Well, yeah, but I..." He bites his lip. "It's not really a... Um."

"Sam." Blaine tilts his head until he can meet Sam's eyes. He has never seen Sam this unsure before. "What is it?"

"I just..." Sam gestures helplessly with his hands and then finally gives the file to Blaine. "Just – take a look at it yourself."

Blaine frowns but takes the file, opening it and scanning the papers quickly, his eyes stopping at a name underneath the picture of the fingerprint. He sucks in a surprised breath, and suddenly the office feels quieter, the usual chatter and noise muffled like he's under water and the only thing that's left is the loud beat of his heart echoing in his ears. He stares at the name, thinking that it can't be true, it can't, but at the same time he knows it could be true, the fingerprints say it's true, the M.O. matches, the doubts he's had for weeks match, but it can't be, he wouldn't, not after everything –

"Hey, Blaine? Blaine!"

Sam is snapping his fingers in front of Blaine's face, and when Blaine finally manages to look up from the file he's met with Sam's concerned gaze.

"Dude, are you okay?" Sam asks, carefully resting a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "You totally zoned out for a moment."

"Y-yeah," Blaine stutters. He lets out a shuddering breath, his eyes flicking back to the file one last time before he forces himself to look away. He pushes the file into Sam's hands, steps away from him and runs his fingers through his hair, taking another deep breath. "I'm fine. Did you... Did you check the tracking anklet?"

Sam nods. "It shows him sitting at home around the time of the theft, but there's a weird little blip in the data that the techs are trying to solve." He furrows his brows and looks at Blaine. "Are you sure you're fine? You look really pale, Blaine."

"I'm fine," Blaine repeats, dragging his hand down his face. His skin feels weirdly clammy. "I just... I don't know what to think. I don't..." He trails off, stopping to stare out of the glass wall of his office, down at the lower level and at one particular desk by the doors, at the person sitting behind it.

Sam shifts on his feet. "You do realize that his deal says he can't –"

"– that he can't commit any crimes when he's working with us or he goes straight back to prison. I know. I know." Blaine looks at the ceiling for a moment, trying to calm himself. "I just... I can't believe he would..."

He's still a con-man, Blaine, Tina's voice says in his head.

Sam squeezes his shoulder with a sympathetic expression. "I can't either, if that helps at all. Do you want me to...?" He gestures towards the office with his hand, and it takes a moment for Blaine to realize what he means.

"No," he says immediately. "No, it should... I should be the one to do it."

He takes the file from Sam and opens the door before his courage runs out, before he shoves the file back into Sam's hands and tells him to do it instead. When he walks down the few steps to the lower level and starts making his way towards the desk near the doors he can feel Tina's eyes on him, and he wonders if Sam told her already, if Sam said something to Tina or to some of the probies before he came to see Blaine – but Sam wouldn't, that's the thing, so Blaine ignores the eyes following him and stops right in front of the desk they only put in its place about a month ago.

Kurt looks up from the paperwork he's writing and smiles at Blaine. "Blaine, hi! What is it?"

And isn't that just a cruel twist of irony, because right now, right at this moment, Kurt is the most Kurt he's been for weeks, his smile easy and his gaze bright and excited, the dark green bowtie fitting perfectly below his Adam's apple. He's not staring into space or flashing a false smile at Blaine, his voice doesn't seem to be hiding anything, and Blaine hates the way he can clearly see Kurt's smile falter when he notices Blaine's expression and realizes something's wrong.

"Kurt, can you come with me?" Blaine asks in a low voice, hoping that none of the other agents hear him. He's not going to turn this into a spectacle.

Kurt frowns, but he puts his papers down and gets up. "Is something wrong or...?"

"You're under arrest," Blaine explains, his own voice sounding hollow in his ears. "We found your fingerprint in the glass from the gallery."

Kurt's eyes widen and he takes a step back. "What?" he exclaims, and Blaine winces when he notices a few of the other agents turn to look at them.

"Kurt..." he starts.

"What the hell, Blaine," Kurt interrupts vehemently, lowering his voice and clenching his hands into fists. "I didn't steal that sculpture. I didn't take it, just check the tracking anklet. I was at home when it happened, honestly, this must be –"

"Kurt!" Blaine stops him. "I don't want to put handcuffs on you in front of the whole office. Can you just come with me? Please?"

"I didn't steal it!" Kurt says, his voice rising again. Blaine meets his eyes, and there's a whole range of emotions shining from them, anger and desperation and sadness, and Blaine can't take this; it feels like he can't breathe and Kurt is practically shaking now, pleading with his eyes for Blaine to stop this, and it's almost hysterical, the mess inside Blaine's head right now, and he can only imagine what sort of a mess Kurt's head is.

Sam steps forward at that moment, taking Kurt's arm gently and leading him out of the office and into the lobby, away from the prying eyes. Kurt doesn't fight him; he just keeps staring at Blaine, his eyes boring holes into Blaine's heart, his face the epitome of desperate confusion. Blaine himself feels so confused that he can't even tell if Kurt's surprise is genuine or not, if he's doing the right thing or ruining something beyond repair.

He looks back at the office, at all the agents that are now staring at the scene with curiosity.

"Get back to work," he tells them tiredly, meeting Tina's eyes across the room for a brief moment. He can't stand to look at her right now, so he turns his back quickly on the room and follows Sam and Kurt, trying to make sense of the confusion his life has suddenly turned into.