“Kurt? Can I ask you something?”

Kurt doesn't look up from the sauce he's stirring. The spices need to be folded in perfectly, or otherwise the whole thing will be ruined. “Of course you can, Blaine. You don't have to ask for permission,” he answers distractedly.

“I know,” Blaine says slowly. Kurt can hear him put down the knife he's been using the chop the vegetables. “It's just...”

He trails off, and that makes Kurt look up from the sauce. Blaine is staring at the kitchen counter, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. He's still wearing the worn-out Quantico t-shirt he pulled on this morning for his rare day off, the fabric stretched over his chest in a way that shows that the shirt is a little small on him these days. It's definitely different from the well-fitting suits Blaine wears to the office – or from the even more well-fitting suits Kurt himself wears for work – and sometimes Kurt still feels a small thrill for getting to see Blaine like this, getting to see him outside of who he is at the FBI.

“Blaine,” he says, moving the sauce pan away from the stove and turning to face his fiancé. “I'm getting worried here. Is everything alright?”

Blaine blinks his eyes, coming out of his thoughts. “Yes. Yes! Everything's fine, I just...” He turns around and leans his hip against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. It's one of his tells, one of the easiest ones, and even if Blaine himself is aware of it as well, Kurt has still seen him do it every time he feels uncomfortable. “It's just that the... The annual FBI year report dinner is coming up.”

“The annual what?” Kurt frowns in confusion. A dinner doesn't sound like something that would make Blaine nervous.

“The annual FBI year report dinner,” Blaine repeats. “The yearly report on the New York office will be published in a few weeks, and traditionally the FBI throws a dinner party to celebrate the past year,” he explains. “It's an actual fancy event, with an expensive dinner and dancing...”

“Until all the old agents leave for home and the younger ones can get the party started,” Kurt finishes for him, smiling when Blaine gives a laugh.

“Well, yeah,” he agrees sheepishly. “But anyway... Um. I've gone to the party every year since I joined the Bureau,” he continues, scratching his arm (another tell), “but I've usually left early since the hustle and bustle can be a bit too much when you don't have a plus-one, and as a team leader it's a bit awkward to see your team members getting drunk in the after party and singing karaoke and–”

Kurt gasps in surprise. “There's karaoke? Oh god, I need to see this.”

Blaine gives a small smile. “That's actually sort of why I brought this up.” He straightens his back, uncrossing and re-crossing his arms. “As the ASAC I'm obviously expected to attend the dinner and preferably the after party as well, and... Would you– accompany me?”

He grins bashfully, batting his eyelashes, and Kurt giggles before playing along. “You mean as your plus-one, Agent Anderson?” he asks, looking at Blaine under his own lashes.

“Okay, that's just–” Blaine huffs out a laugh, dropping his arms down. “You know what that does to me, that's so not fair. But yes, of course as my plus-one.”

Kurt can feel his own cheeks straining with the sheer force of his smile. “Of course I will be your plus-one, Blaine.” He leans in to kiss his fiancé's cheek, still grinning. “You had me at dinner party, to be honest. Why on earth were you so nervous, honey? You had to know I would say yes.”

Blaine shrugs, looking down with a small smile of his own. “I've never brought a plus-one to an FBI dinner before. To any FBI event, for that matter. I just thought that... I don't know. It's a big step, in a way.”

“Oh?” Kurt asks, tilting his head.

“Agents usually only bring their wives or husbands to these things,” Blaine explains, looking up at Kurt with a soft look. “There are no rules about it or anything, but it's generally expected that you have to be pretty serious with the person you bring with you. Peterson used to say that your plus-one should be someone who knows what... what being an agent is like. Someone who accepts it and loves you anyway.”

Kurt steps closer and reaches out to take Blaine's hand, slotting their fingers together. “Well then it's a good thing I already knew what I was getting myself into when I asked you to marry me.”

“I was the one who asked you,” Blaine counters, teasingly.

“No, you just thought about it and made vague references to it after I came back,” Kurt corrects him. “I was the one who actually brought it up first and who got down on one knee and proposed.”

“Fine.” Blaine whispers, leaning in to brush his lips gently over Kurt's. “I can live with that.”

---

The room is full of agents and their spouses, full of people Kurt has never even met, let alone talked to. He can see a few agents he remembers working with back when he was still a CI, but most of the people are completely unfamiliar to him, even though Blaine has been nodding greetings to them ever since they got here and left their coats in the lobby.

“Ohhh, I stick out like a sore thumb,” Kurt whispers, looking around the brightly-lit room. A waiter with a drink tray passes them, looking harried, and Kurt feels a small bang of sympathy. It must be agonizing to serve drinks to a bunch of FBI agents.

Blaine stops mid-step, turning to face Kurt with his face scrunched up in both confusion and barely concealed amusement. “What? No, you don't. You're not even the only one wearing a designer tux,” he adds. “I'm wearing one, and I think Agent Cole's been complaining for weeks about the tux his wife's forcing him to wear for this dinner.”

Kurt keeps staring at all the agents milling around the hall, gripping Blaine's arm tightly. “I didn't mean that," he explains. "I just meant that the last time I saw any of these people was when I was a criminal informant – and let's face it, outside of the White Collar Division, not a lot of people liked working with me.”

“Kurt,” Blaine says gently, moving to stand in front of him and taking both of his hands in his. “Do you know how many CIs agents generally work with during their career? Hundreds,” he emphasizes. “And as unforgettable as you are, I doubt the random agents we worked with once or twice over a year ago even remember you. You're here as my plus-one, as my fiancé, and if anyone has a problem with that, they can bring their complaints to my office next Monday morning where they will be dealt with proper care and consideration.”

Kurt blinks at him.

“Meaning that I will tell them to mind their own flipping business,” Blaine finishes, leaning in to kiss Kurt's cheek.

Kurt laughs, swatting at Blaine's arm. “How are you so calm about this? You were a bundle of nerves when you were just asking me to be your plus-one.”

“I'm not calm, I'm freaking out.” Blaine leans back and lets Kurt straighten his tie, and now Kurt notices the small nervous movements of Blaine's own hands. “But it's going to be fine. Right?”

“Right,” Kurt repeats, smoothing his hands down the lapels of Blaine's jacket. “And you're sure your superiors won't have a problem with your plus-one being a... You know, a man?”

“They made me the ASAC,” Blaine says decisively. “If they still have a problem with my sexuality, they'll just have to deal with it for one night.”

Kurt smiles, feeling a sudden surge of love for Blaine. “Alright then. Let's go show your agent friends how to properly rock a tux.”

He offers his arm to Blaine, and Blaine takes it, laughing in a way that makes the nervous twitching of his hands stop.

It's a nice party, all in all – everyone from Blaine's old team comes to talk to them for a while, Sam even pulling Kurt in for a hug even though they do still see each other every now and then. Kurt is introduced to Tina's fiancé, a tall man who says he's a dancer and who looks even more lost in the middle of all the agents than Kurt feels. Even Peterson comes over to clap Kurt's shoulder and ask him how he's doing, listening surprisingly attentively to Kurt's answers, and then leaving with another clap on his shoulder and a word of congratulations on their engagement.

After the dinner Blaine is pulled away by one of his superiors, and Kurt watches him go with an amused smile. Blaine's posture seems to straighten immediately, his whole demeanor changing into something stricter and more official, but he still keeps glancing at Kurt over his shoulder while he's talking to a few older agents, as if he can't wait to get back to him. Kurt looks away from him after a few moments, letting his eyes take in the other agents milling about and giving a small nod to Sam, who seems to be talking to a very pretty female agent.

This could've been Kurt's life if he had stayed with the Bureau. But Kurt knows it's not for him, no matter how interesting working with Blaine was. Besides, it was always more about Blaine than the work itself; more about redeeming himself than actually working for the FBI for the rest of his life. He is perfectly content with being the Vogue columnist plus-one to an FBI agent instead of an employee for the FBI.

“Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt turns his head at the voice. There's a man standing next to him, staring at him confusion, and something about his face stirs something in Kurt's memory.

“That's me,” he replies easily. “And you are...?”

“Oh, sorry – Agent John Collins.” The man extends his hand to Kurt, still eyeing him as if there's something weird going on. “We worked together on a case a long time ago?”

“Ah, right.” Kurt shakes the mans hand, suddenly remembering why he looked so familiar. He was from the Kidnapping and Missing Persons Division, assigned to help Blaine's team with a case that involved the kidnapping of a small child. The case ended happily, but Kurt can still remember that he didn't particularly like Agent Collins. “How have you been, Agent?”

“Good, good,” Collins answers distractedly. “Look, Hummel, I don't want to be rude or anything, but... What exactly are you doing here?”

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“I thought you quit your job as a CI,” Collins explains, gesturing at Kurt's ankle, as if he's still tied to the tracking anklet. “And I know for a fact that the Bureau doesn't usually invite its CIs to these dinners, for obvious reasons. So what... How did you even get in?” The suspicious way he narrows his eyes speaks volumes about how he himself thinks Kurt got in.

Yeah, Kurt definitely doesn't like Agent Collins that much.

Kurt bristles, but before he gets the chance to answer Blaine comes back, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist and pressing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Sorry,” he breathes once he leans away, squeezing Kurt's waist. “Peterson wanted to introduce me to some older agents – I think he did it just to rub our conviction rate in their faces – and it took longer than I expected.” He finally seems to notice Agent Collins staring at them and flashes him a polite smile. “Hello, John. I hope the familys doing alright?”

“What... What?” Agent Collins says, staring at Blaine's arm around Kurt's waist.

“As I was just about to tell Agent Collins here,” Kurt explains, leaning a little into Blaine's touch, just to make Collins even more confused, “I'm here as Blaine's plus-one.”

“He didn't know were engaged?” Blaine asks, looking genuinely disconcerted. “I thought everyone at the Bureau knew about it already.”

“You're engaged to your CI?” Collins asks, something snide in his voice, looking between them.

“Yes?” Blaine answers, frowning. Oh poor, gullible Blaine, Kurt thinks, taking a sip of his drink. “Kurt hasn't been my CI for a long time, so I don't really understand what's so weird about it.”

“We got together after my sentence was commuted,” Kurt adds with a tight smile, because that's the story they stick to if anyone who doesn't know the truth asks about them. “I guess we just realized there was something stronger than just work between us.”

“But isn't it...” Collins tries, gesturing at them with his hands. “Isn't it against some rules to...?”

Kurt can see the moment Collins's insinuations make sense in Blaine's brain. His grip around Kurt's waist tightens a little, and something dark passes over his features, making his frown seem a lot more annoyed than perplexed.

“As Kurt just said, we got together after his sentence was commuted,” Blaine repeats, his voice making a shiver run down Kurt's back. “Kurt was cleared of all charges against him, and he hasn't worked for the FBI for months. So no, Agent Collins, it's not against any rules. Agent Peterson and everyone else who's opinion actually matters knows about our engagement already, and while they were a little surprised at first, theyve had no objections.”

Collins doesn't seem to hear the underlying suggestion of dropping the topic and just narrows his eyes at them. “But Hummel was your CI? I mean, hes a criminal. Aren't the bosses worried that he'll... corrupt you or something? Because I know I...”

“Apologize to him.”

Collins stops mid-sentence, blinks his eyes and stares at Blaine. “What?” he asks incredulously.

“Apologize to him,” Blaine repeats, his tone low and dangerous, full of all the authority he has in the FBI. “Apologize to Kurt and then get out of our sight. You're not on my team, I don't work with you, and while you're free to have your own opinion, that opinion doesn't interest me or my fiancé at all. So apologize to him for calling him a criminal when he was cleared of all charges months ago and then leave. You might not work for me, but as an ASAC I'm still your superior.”

Collins splutters for a moment, but eventually he manages to spit out a “I'm sorry” from the corner of his mouth before skulking off and disappearing into the crowd. Kurt can feel Blaine relaxing against him as soon as Collins is gone, the tension in his back slipping away and the dark cloud disappearing from his face.

“Well that was impressing,” Kurt says eventually, turning to look at Blaine.

Blaine sighs, running his hand down his face. “I'm sorry. I know you could've handled it yourself, but I just... I just get so mad when some random agent thinks it's okay to come up to us and start–”

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts him, resting his hand on Blaine's arm with an amused smile. Honestly, he's heard much worse during the years than whatever Agent Collins had to say, and while it was annoying and out of line, he isn't surprised that some agents will always see him as a criminal. “It's okay. I could've handled it, but I'm flattered that you felt the need to defend my honor.”

Blaine looks up at him, his expression so earnest and desperate that it makes Kurt's heart skip a beat. “It's just not right. We're supposed to be the people who put offenders in jail in the hope that they will change for the better, and then when someone actually does redeem themselves and builds a new life, they just...” He sighs. “I just think it's not fair for him to treat you like that.”

“I know,” Kurt says, nodding. “I don't like it either. But his opinion doesn't matter. Do you know how many people have congratulated us on our engagement during this evening?” he asks, grinning at Blaine. “Because I think I lost count somewhere after the fifteenth person.”

Blaine gives a laugh, ducking his head with a small blush.

“Their opinion and the opinion of our friends matter a whole lot more than the opinion of some random person we'll only going to see once a year in some fancy dinner party,” Kurt continues with a smile of his own. “And what matters even more is just... us. This is our engagement, our relationship. No one else has a say in it.”

Blaine's eyes soften, and he leans in to kiss Kurt, right there in the middle of all of FBI's New York office. Kurt lets his eyes flutter closed, the sounds of the people around them fading away for a moment, as if he gets transported into some ridiculous romantic comedy every time Blaine kisses him. Kurt sometimes still can't believe this is actually his life.

“I love you,” Blaine says in a low voice when they break apart. “And I have no idea how I'm going to be able to stay here for the after party when youre so amazing and that suit youre wearing looks so gorgeous and all I want to do is just go home with you and spend the rest of the night worshipping every single part of you,” he adds, lowering his voice so that no one else can hear them.

Kurt blushes and laughs, stroking his hand up and down Blaine's arm. “Aw, but Tina said she was going to sing Total Eclipse of the Heart in the karaoke later tonight. I was really looking forward to it,” he teases.

“You're choosing Tina's singing over sex? I'm hurt,” Blaine deadpans.

“I'm kidding, obviously.” Kurt rolls his eyes and lets his fingers slide lower until he can take Blaine's hand in his. “Would it be okay for us to leave already, though? I thought you were expected to stay at least until the after party.”

Blaine looks around the room, biting his lower lip in consideration for a moment. “You know what? Maybe we should stay and show Agent Collins just exactly how little we care about his opinion. The dancing's going to start soon anyway. We could rehearse our wedding waltz.”

Kurt smiles. “Deal. But I'm still getting all that worshipping later tonight?”

“Obviously,” Blaine answers with a grin and pulls him towards the dance floor.