Catch Me If You Can
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Catch Me If You Can: Chapter 9


T - Words: 4,767 - Last Updated: Sep 05, 2013
Story: Complete - Chapters: 23/23 - Created: Jun 20, 2013 - Updated: Sep 05, 2013
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Author's Notes: The updates might be a bit slower from now on because of real life messing with my writing, but I'm not going to abandon this fic. That's a promise.

Kurt expects to see Blaine and his FBI issued car when he steps out of the prison, straightening his jacket and checking his pockets to make sure everything he had with him when he was brought here is still there (phone, wallet, lock picks – yep, all there). It has been weird, trusting someone else to get him out of prison when Kurt is used to working things out on his own. He did come up with one or two escape plans himself, just in case, but he wanted to trust Blaine. He wanted to take that risk and see if Blaine would be worth it, and while he doesn't exactly want to call it a test, it probably was a test after all.

But when he lifts his gaze and sees Sam leaning against a dark blue car instead, fiddling with his phone before he looks up and waves, Kurt doesn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. He plasters a smile on his face anyway, waving back at Sam and crossing the parking lot.

He has been battling against his feelings for Blaine for weeks, trying to ignore them or drive them away. It will never work, he knows it – he's a criminal and Blaine is an agent, and even if they work well together and have moments when it almost feels like they're friends, when Kurt is struck by how right Blaine feels, fitting into his life like he has always been there, they are still from two different worlds. Con-men don't fall in love, and people don't fall in love with con-men. They only fall in love with the idea of a con-man, the excitement and intrigue; not with the actual person.

Kurt thought he had hidden his feelings and his inner battle well, but of course he forgot that Blaine seems to read him better than anyone else, seeing through the masks and bright smiles like they're only a too thin a layer of stage make-up. Except Blaine saw the glances Kurt had stolen and the number of times he had gotten lost in his head as signs of some criminal scheme, and Kurt thought that here was his chance – he would give Blaine this one opportunity to fix something, and Blaine would let him down, just like people did, and then his feelings could go away and he could continue with his life without wondering what Agent Anderson's lips would taste like against his own.

Except apparently Blaine Anderson has the habit of keeping his promises, and Kurt is still feeling things he shouldn't feel.

"Hey man, it's good to see you!" Sam exclaims when Kurt reaches the car. He claps Kurt's shoulder with a wide grin. "The office wasn't the same without you."

Kurt smiles, surprised by the reaction. "Thanks? I thought... I thought Blaine would come and get me?" he asks, looking around a little. It's not that he doesn't like Sam, but Blaine was the one who picked him up the last time, and a part of him wants to see Blaine as soon as possible, wants to see how he behaves after this mess. Kurt judges people by their behavior, what can he say.

"Oh. Um." Sam scratches the back of his head. "He was going to come, but then he said he needs to think for a while and told me to come get you. He's probably planning on giving some sort of a speech to the team or something – he was really upset when he found out that one of our own had framed you."

Kurt blinks. He hadn't even thought about that. Of course he himself is upset that someone at the FBI disliked him so much that they were willing to frame him for theft, but Kurt knows not every agent is as trusting as Blaine. But the agent was a part of Blaine's team, and that must be difficult for Blaine as well.

They're already driving towards the city, Sam sometimes quietly humming along to the radio and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, when Kurt has finally gathered enough courage to ask, "How is he?"

He keeps his voice deliberately indifferent and stares out of the window, like the perfect picture of disinterest. The tracking anklet is an oddly familiar weight around his ankle again, and he bends down to scratch the skin underneath it for a distraction. Oh what an actor Broadway lost in him.

"Blaine?" Sam clarifies, and continues after Kurt's affirmative hum. "He's good. You know, just a bit shocked about Gilbert, I suppose." Kurt can see him shrug from the corner of his eye. "I'm just glad this whole case is over and he can finally get a good night's sleep."

Kurt expects there to be a chuckle, a small laugh or something light after that sentence, something to indicate that it was a joke, but when he hears nothing, he has to turn his head and look at Sam. "A good night's sleep?" he repeats.

"Yeah," Sam says. "Me and Tina had to force him to go home a couple times when he was working on your release. And even then he only went home to shower and change and take care of Perry, and then he was back at the office again." This time Sam does chuckle. "I mean, he took a nap in the conference room a few times, but he hasn't really been resting that much."

Something that feels suspiciously like guilt starts gnawing at Kurt's heart, and he looks away. "Oh."

Sam hums, apparently not sensing the change in Kurt's mood. "Yeah, he's always like that when he screws up. Whenever he makes a mistake he just forgets everything else until he has fixed it. It's what he does."

"I guess we have that in common," Kurt murmurs.

"What was that?" Sam asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Nothing." Kurt flashes a quick grin. "I was just wondering if you could take me to the office instead of my apartment?"

---

There is clearly something going on when they step out of the elevator on the 21st floor. Practically every agent in the White Collar Division is standing in a group at the bottom of the stairs in the office, staring at Blaine who is leaning against the railing of the upper level and saying something, his hand gestures calm and collected in a way that clearly shows that he's the one running this team, even if no one calls him the boss.

Sam opens the door, and Kurt catches the tail end of Blaine's sentence.

"– they're still people," Blaine is saying. "Even if they have committed crimes, even if they have served time or are currently serving it, I refuse to see them just as hardened criminals. Being a criminal is only a part of a person. They are not the crimes they have committed. They are people who have made bad choices."

He pauses and looks around the room, his eyes stopping when they meet Kurt's, and even from the other side of the room Kurt can see the way Blaine's eyes seem to light up for a moment.

"Maybe thinking like that makes me naive or idealistic," Blaine continues, "but I'm going to keep that belief. And I hope that everyone in my team at least tries to remember it as well. We catch people who have done something wrong, but sometimes those people deserve a second chance as well. What Agent Gilbert did wasn't wrong only because it broke the law, but because he refused to see the person behind the criminal. And if you think like him..."

Blaine's eyes move away from Kurt, flicking around the room. Next to him Kurt can hear Sam swallow loudly, as if he knows what Blaine is going to say next.

"If you think like him," Blaine repeats, his voice sounding suddenly a little tired, at least to Kurt, "you should probably consider whether my team is the right team for you after all."

The room is completely silent. Blaine glances at Kurt one last time, and then he turns his back and walks to his own office, closing the door behind him. The other agents stand still for a while, and then they slowly start to shuffle towards their own desks, a few of them nodding a greeting to Kurt when they notice him.

Tina makes her way through the crowd to Kurt and Sam, shaking her head. "I told him it might be a bit too radical, but he wanted to, quote unquote, 'clear some air'", she explains to Sam before turning to look at Kurt with a smile. "Hey Kurt. It's good to have you back."

Kurt flashes a smile of his own, surprised by Tina's greeting. "Thanks. It's good to be back." He surreptitiously glances towards Blaine's office. The curtains are drawn over the glass walls, and he can't see inside the office, can't see Blaine. "Orange isn't exactly my color," he adds to Tina, shrugging his shoulders a little.

Tina grins. "Orange isn't exactly anyone's color."

"Oh, some inmates do make it work." Kurt sniffs a little. "Did Blaine say anything about not being disturbed?"

Tina and Sam share a glance. "No, I'm sure he'd be happy to see you," Tina finally says. "I have to get back to work. Welcome back, Kurt." She reaches out her hand, pauses, and then after a moment pats Kurt's shoulder rather clumsily, before she heads back to her own desk.

"Yeah, same here," Sam adds with a smile. "If you need a ride to your apartment later on, let me know."

Kurt nods, and once Sam moves away, he slowly crosses the office space, feeling the way some of the agents glance at him as he passes. Kurt takes a deep breath, lifts his chin and straightens his back, ignoring the looks until he has climbed the stairs to the upper level and the agents' eyes can't follow him anymore. Sometimes he does wonder if some of the agents think working in an office space is just like being back in high school, with the same set of unwritten rules and the same amount of gossip.

He knocks on the door of Blaine's office and then opens it without waiting for an answer, peeking in and expecting to see Blaine sitting at his desk as usual. Instead Blaine is standing, leaning against the back wall of the room, his shoulders slumped and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. The lights are off, and only the weak sunlight of the cloudy day outside shines through the window, making the whole room seem more shadowy and gray.

"Blaine?" Kurt asks hesitantly, stepping in and closing the door behind him.

Blaine looks up, breathing out slowly when he sees Kurt. He pushes himself away from the wall and takes a hesitating step forward. "Kurt. Hi."

"Hi," Kurt answers. "That was an impressive speech you gave there."

Blaine gives out a laugh and massages the back of his neck. "Tina said it wasn't necessarily a very good idea, but I just... I had to make some things clear." He meets Kurt's eyes, his voice gaining more determination. "We're supposed to be a team, and you're a part of that team, and I... I won't allow anyone to make you feel like you don't matter because of your past."

Kurt's heart thumps painfully in his chest, loud in the stillness of the room. You matter. He looks away, shaking his head.

"You're an impressively good person, Blaine," he says softly.

"I... I try my best." Blaine frowns. "But if I am, then so are you."

"Well, I did just get out of prison, but..." Kurt jokes, trying to steer the conversation away from something too serious.

Blaine's frown only deepens, and he takes another step towards Kurt. "Didn't you listen to what I was saying out there? None of that makes you a bad person. I know you never stole from anyone who couldn't afford it, and you never used guns or violence, and..." He sighs and gestures with his hands at Kurt. "I mean, yes, you made some mistakes, Kurt, but you're still a good person."

Kurt can't remember the last time someone called him a good person, and he surprisedly realizes that it feels somehow even better than the rush after a successful con or the thrill of getting away with a priceless painting. He digs his hands into his pockets, trying to ignore the stupid feelings fluttering inside of him, and looks out of the window. The clouds hang heavily over New York, like splotches of paint on a canvas, and Kurt suddenly wishes he had a paint brush so he could memorize the way Blaine looks right now against the background of New York City's bleak skyline, the way his eyes seem to be the only source of light in this dim room.

"Thanks," he says after a moment. "I'm glad you think that way."

Blaine nods. "I do. And I'm... I'm sorry that I just put you back in prison like that. That was wrong, and I should have talked to you at first. I mean, hacking isn't even your thing, but I still assumed that you..." He gestures with his hands again, his shoulders slumping back down as he sighs. "I'm just... I'm sorry."

Kurt moves his eyes from the window to Blaine. If Blaine is good at reading Kurt, then Kurt knows he himself is pretty good at reading Blaine as well, and right now he can clearly see the guilt in Blaine's eyes; guilt and sadness and just an overall tiredness – he has dark circles around his eyes, and Kurt can see that the gel in his hair isn't as rigid or impeccable as it usually is. There are even some small wrinkles in his clothes, signs of too many hours spent at the office.

"It's okay," he says. "You did what you had to do. Besides, you did get me out of prison, so..."

Blaine's mouth twists into a small smile. "Well, that seems to be my thing. I put you in prison and then I get you out as well."

Kurt gives out a laugh. "Don't get cocky, Anderson. I did have an escape plan ready."

Blaine's smile widens. "You did? Why doesn't that surprise me? How many escape plans did you make?"

"One," Kurt says defiantly.

Blaine raises his eyebrows.

"Okay, maybe two or three," Kurt admits after a moment. As if he could lie to Blaine.

Blaine grins. "I knew it." He takes another step towards Kurt and opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly he sways a little, closing his eyes and lifting his hand to his forehead. "Huh," he breathes out, steadying himself.

Kurt immediately steps into Blaine's personal space and, after a brief moment of hesitation, rests his own hand on Blaine's shoulder for support.

"Sam told me you haven't been sleeping properly," he says, and his voice sounds surprisingly gentle in his own ears. It's been years since he last took care of someone other than himself, but apparently old instincts are hard to get rid of, especially when it comes to ridiculously dutiful FBI agents.

Blaine blinks his eyes a few times. "I didn't have time to sleep," he says sheepishly, lowering his own hand and leaning into Kurt's touch almost unconsciously. "I had to get you out of prison, didn't I?"

I had to fix what I'd done wrong, Kurt hears, and something tightens around his heart. He unconsciously rubs Blaine's shoulder with his hand, furrowing his brows when Blaine doesn't react to the touch in any way and just keeps staring at the floor, his eyes blinking slowly.

"Blaine?" Kurt says eventually, squeezing Blaine's arm. "Why don't we get you home?"

Blaine startles, lifting his head and looking at Kurt. "What? No, it's just..." He glances at his wristwatch, squinting his eyes to tell the time. "It's just a little after five, I should still finish that report about..."

Kurt shakes his head with an amused laugh. "Blaine, no. You look like you're about to fall asleep, and you'd probably end up writing gibberish in that report. Give me your car keys, I'm driving you home."

Blaine frowns at him. "You're driving me?"

"I do have a driver's license," Kurt reminds him. He gives Blaine's shoulder one last pat and then turns around, his hand somehow missing the warmth of Blaine's arm as soon as it's gone. He shakes his head to focus, walking to the desk to check that Blaine's computer is shut off and straightening a few piles of papers in passing.

"You have several driver's licenses, actually," Blaine corrects. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Checking that your office doesn't look like a mess so we can leave," Kurt answers. "Obviously," he adds and glances back just in time to see Blaine roll his eyes in amusement. The gesture feels familiar and friendly, as does the whole conversation, and Kurt can't even be bothered to pull back, to act like whatever this is between them doesn't make him feel oddly at home and more like himself than he has for years.

After the few lonely days in prison all of this just feels too precious for him to turn it into a con.

"Do you have your keys and your phone?" he asks, snatching an empty take-away coffee cup from the side table and throwing it into the waste paper basket.

Blaine starts patting down his pockets, his face scrunching up in tired concentration. "Um, yeah, I seem to have everything – wait, my keys are not..."

Kurt dangles the keys in front of Blaine's face with a grin. "I've got them."

Blaine stares. "How did you – They were in my pocket. Did you just pick my pocket?" He probably tries to sound scolding, but it comes out more amused than anything.

"I told you I'm driving," Kurt reminds him.

"But I –"

"No." Kurt fixes Blaine with a stare. "You're going to go home and sleep and just... Not think about work for a few hours. And I'm not going to let you drive when you look that tired."

Blaine huffs out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now I understand how you charmed all those people you conned. You just bossed them around like this."

His eyes are twinkling, not looking as guilty or sad anymore, and Kurt calls that a success. He twirls Blaine's keys in his hand and shrugs, letting a grin tug at his own lips. "That's just one of my many talents," he says, winking at Blaine.

Blaine ducks his head, a tinge of a blush on his cheeks. "I can see that."

Kurt stares at Blaine, at the way his eyelashes fan over his cheeks and the way his lips turn into a small smile, and feels his own chest tighten with all the feelings locked inside of him. He has no idea why Blaine is blushing, but the sight of it and the tone of Blaine's voice make him feel warm all over – even though they shouldn't, even though Kurt knows he can never have more than this, that this banter between them is all he can have and even that's more than he deserves. It doesn't matter that Blaine is kind and clever and trust-worthy, it doesn't matter that Kurt's heart instinctively skips a beat when Blaine smiles at him like he's the only person in the room. He can never have more than this, and that's the end of it.

"I'm just returning the favor," he finally says. "You worked hard to get me out of prison, so it's only fair that I get you home."

Blaine lifts his head, surprised. "I..." He stops and then shakes his head with a small smile. "Never mind. Let's go then."

---

It's been a while since Kurt has driven in New York, but like he said, he does still have a driver's license, and he has also always been observant. He knows how to get to Blaine's apartment on foot and by car, and he manages the streets and the late afternoon traffic easily. He glances at Blaine sitting in the passenger seat every now and then as he drives, checking if he's still awake. Blaine had seemed relatively awake when they left the office, but ever since Kurt started the car his eyes have been blinking more and more slowly, his body relaxing against the seat and the stiffness disappearing from his muscles.

He looks somehow younger than usually, almost in the same way as he does in those mornings when Kurt wakes him up at half past six and gets to see him all sleep-mussed and barely awake. The strict and authoritative features of agent Anderson turn softer and less worried, and Kurt tries very hard to keep his eyes on the road and not in the man almost dozing next to him, suddenly feeling like this Blaine is some private version of him, something that not a lot of people get to see.

They don't speak much during the ride, Blaine only occasionally making sure that Kurt knows which street to turn to. The radio is on, but Kurt had turned the volume down when he started the car, and he can barely hear the low murmur of the songs as he drives. Blaine hums quietly along at one point, apparently recognizing the song, and Kurt glances at him from the corner of his eye, seeing that Blaine's eyes are halfway closed already and that he has practically melted against the seat.

For some reason the sight makes him smile.

Blaine does still straighten up when they pull into his street. He tells Kurt where to leave the car, and then slowly gets out when Kurt has parked the vehicle, leaning against it and taking a deep breath of fresh air while Kurt locks the doors. The air feels a little colder than it did when Kurt left the prison earlier that day, and he sees how Blaine pulls his coat more tightly around himself.

Blaine doesn't seem to be too sleepy yet since he manages the stairs to his apartment on the second floor just fine. Kurt still stays close to him, watching as Blaine yawns a few times. Perry meets them at the door and goes crazy when she realizes it's Blaine stepping into the apartment – she whines and pushes her muzzle against Blaine's leg, her tail wagging rapidly, and Kurt smiles amusedly as she practically tries to wrap herself around Blaine.

"Hey girl," Blaine coos, scratching behind her ears. "I missed you too. And I'm sorry you were stuck with Ms. Avninder for so many days. I bet she gave you more treats than I do, though, didn't she?"

"Ms. Avninder?" Kurt can't help but ask. Perry seems to realize his presence at that moment, and she turns to look at him, her tongue lolling from her smiling mouth, before she focuses back on Blaine again.

"Oh, she's my neighbor," Blaine explains, looking up at Kurt from the floor where he's crouched with his hands buried in Perry's fur. "She takes care of Perry if I'm caught up in a case or something."

"That's convenient," Kurt mentions and bends down to pet Perry's back.

"Oh yeah, she's a real sweetheart," Blaine says. "And so are you," he adds to Perry, kissing the top of her head.

Kurt laughs as he steps further into the apartment. There is a rumpled shirt on the backrest of Blaine's sofa, obviously left there some time ago, and Kurt clucks his tongue when he sees it. A part of him wants to take the shirt and fold it neatly, but that would be a bit too domestic, a bit too everything, so he just turns around and watches as Blaine finally gets up from the floor, patting Perry one last time.

"Oh!" Blaine suddenly exclaims when his eyes meet Kurt's. "How are you going to get back to your own apartment? I can call Sam if –"

Kurt waves his hand in the air. "It's fine, I can just walk or take the subway. Or call a cab."

Blaine frowns and shrugs out of his coat, hanging it by the door. "Still. I'm sorry you had to drive me home." He yawns again and rubs his eyes with his hand. "Though I have to admit that I probably wouldn't have been a very safe driver in this state."

"Like I said, it's fine," Kurt assures him. "Are you good now or...?"

Blaine blinks a few times and then nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. I'm just..." He gestures with his hand towards the direction where Kurt suspects his bedroom is. "I'm just going to go to bed with my dog and get some sleep. Even if it's not that late yet. Would you like some coffee or something –"

Kurt shakes his head. "No, I'm okay. I think I'm going to head home as well."

They stand still for a moment, awkwardly looking at each other, both of them suddenly hesitant about what to say and what to do. Perry sits down near Blaine's feet, staring at them with apparent curiosity. Kurt smiles at her and shuffles his feet, and he has just opened his mouth to say goodnight and make his leave, when Blaine suddenly speaks up.

"Kurt," he starts, his eyes weirdly serious. "Are we... I know we work together and we're practically partners, but we... We're friends too, right?"

Kurt startles, blinking in surprise. His heart starts beating wildly inside his chest, almost hammering against his ribcage, and it takes every ounce of his con-man persona to keep his face as neutral as possible. He looks at Blaine, at the painfully honest and hopeful expression on his face – on the face of the FBI agent who caught him twice and put him in prison three times, of the man who for some reason trusts him and wants to keep him around and doesn't break his promises. Kurt remembers his own promise to Blaine, how he said he would work on trusting him, and he might not be ready to tell Blaine everything yet, but he can tell him something.

"I... I think we are," he ventures, averting his eyes. "At least I'd like us to be?"

There's a sharp intake of breath, and then there are suddenly arms around him, wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and Kurt freezes automatically. It's been a long time since someone hugged him, too long a time, but Blaine holds him carefully, like he's trying his hardest not to scare him away, his chin hooked over Kurt's shoulder and his hands resting gently on his shoulder blades. Blaine feels warm against him, and a part of Kurt just wants to wrap himself around Blaine and never let go, cling to him and tell him everything – but it's just not how he works. He hasn't worked like that for years, so he only takes a deep breath and carefully lifts his own arms around Blaine, squeezing a little to show that he's okay. That this, whatever it is, is okay.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you and just put you back in prison like that," Blaine murmurs.

Kurt swallows, hoping that Blaine can't hear his heartbeat. "I'm sorry I can't trust you completely yet."

Blaine leans away from Kurt, looking into his eyes with a serious expression. "It's okay," he says slowly, like he's considering his every word. "You said that you're working on it, and... And that's more than enough."

Kurt searches his face, feeling like he has shown more of himself than he ever has before, even if he hasn't even said that much. But Blaine's eyes are bright and trusting, void of disappointment or judgment.

"Okay," Kurt breathes out. He takes a step away from Blaine, suddenly feeling a little claustrophobic, and Blaine lets him, dropping down his hands. "I think I'm going to go now and let you sleep," Kurt continues. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Blaine nods with a small smile. "I'll pick you up in the morning."

"Good." Kurt nods as well and then walks past Blaine, bending down to pet Perry's head on his way. "Bye, Perry," he whispers with a smile, and the dog looks up at him, her tail giving a few lazy wags.

"Kurt," Blaine calls after him, and Kurt turns around at the door, his hand already resting on the door handle.

"Yes?" he asks when Blaine just looks at him, the small smile still lingering on his lips.

"It's good to have you back," Blaine says simply.

Kurt smiles slowly back at him. "It's good to be back."

He said the exact same words to Tina earlier that same day, but when he reaches the street and starts walking towards his own apartment he realizes that he meant them a lot more this second time.

For some reason that thought makes him hum along to the song inside his head for the first time in years.


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