Blaine feels a little awkward when he walks into the kitchen that morning. He's not sure if he knows how to act around Kurt anymore. How are you supposed to act around someone who suddenly knows all your darkest secrets, your biggest regrets and the things you keep hidden from most of the world? Especially when said someone also happens to be your client?

Blaine has never been in a situation like this before, never opened himself up like this, and he hesitates in the hallway, wringing his hands and thinking about a strategy. It almost feels like all of his old fears and insecurities are brimming inside of him, filling all the places they'd already vacated, like talking about them after all that time made them more real suddenly, more evident.

He can hear Kurt humming in the kitchen as he makes coffee. Is Blaine supposed to act like nothing happened, like this is just an average morning, or is he supposed to acknowledge last night somehow? Or what if Kurt's supposed to do that? What if Kurt doesn't trust him anymore, not after everything Blaine confessed, not when he now knows all of his failures, all the dark corners in the cage inside his heart?

Oh god, why are there no guidebooks or references for situations like this? Why are there no appropriate songs Blaine could sing instead of figuring out how words are supposed to work?

His thoughts are cut short when Kurt strolls into the hallway, nearly bumping into him.

"There you are. I was just coming to see if you were still sleeping."

Blaine clears his throat. "No, I... I just woke up." He studies Kurt's face, looking for signs, any kind of signs to decipher this situation. Kurt's eyes are still, smiling at Blaine in the same way they always do. There's no hesitation, no awkwardness, no... Nothing out of the ordinary. He doesn't look at Blaine with pity or like he's expecting him to break. And when Blaine himself looks at Kurt he doesn't expect him to break either, no matter what they've gone through. Kurt isn't fragile, and Blaine himself doesn't want to be.

"Have you been awake for long?" he manages to ask.

Kurt doesn't answer, just looks at him with a quizzical expression, his head tilted as if he's debating something.

"Oh, screw it," he finally mutters, and then he takes a step into Blaine's personal space and wraps his arms around Blaine, sure and strong, gripping him tightly in a hug. Kurt buries his face in the crook of Blaine's neck, and Blaine can feel Kurt breathing him in, the warm air tickling his skin.

It takes a moment, just a short second of surprise, but then Blaine's arms instinctively wrap themselves around Kurt, holding him against him. It's pleasant and comforting, and Blaine closes his eyes just to feel Kurt, feel his warmth and the length of his arms. They haven't hugged before – they've woken up curled up around each other several times, they've danced and they've practically cuddled, but they haven't hugged, not like this, and Blaine is starting to regret not doing this sooner. Kurt's body is perfect for hugging; he's a little taller than Blaine, not much but enough, his broad and wonderfully flat and masculine back feels like it was made for Blaine's hands that are splayed open against the soft material of his shirt, and his neck curves in just the right way, making a fitting place for Blaine's chin.

"No awkwardness?" Kurt asks, his voice ghosting over Blaine's ear. Just those two words, said with an audible gentleness, but Blaine knows the meaning behind them.

He smiles. "No awkwardness."

"Good." Kurt lets go of Blaine slowly, his hands lingering on Blaine's sides. "Did you pick up the mail already?"

"Oh, shoot, I forgot." Blaine shakes his head and then gives Kurt a reassuring smile. "I'll go get it now."

Kurt smiles and retreats back to the kitchen, his fingers brushing Blaine's arm as he goes. Maybe there are no rules or assumptions about how they should act after last night. If they need or want to they can acknowledge it, but they don't have to dwell on it. They can just go on, as usual, but without walking on eggshells around each other anymore.

Blaine smiles to himself and goes to get the mail. He riffles through it in the hallway like he does every morning – there's a magazine, a letter from the Backstage Talent Association and another postcard from someone called Mercedes, who Blaine now knows is one of Kurt’s friends. That's all. There hasn't been a new letter in several days, not since the last one that Blaine didn't read. The charity concert is in a few days, and Blaine sees every day without a new letter as a good sign, as a faint hope that the anonymous fan has backed off.

Kurt is placing two mugs of coffee on the table when Blaine walks in, and he looks up, meeting Blaine's eyes with apprehension. When Blaine smiles and shakes his head Kurt exhales, his features relaxing. Blaine gives the mail to Kurt and sits down, and they start their breakfast in silence. It's not awkward, it's just comfortable, and Blaine feels relief wash all over him again.

"We have to go out today," Kurt says as he's skimming through the Backstage Talent letter. He lifts his head and looks at Blaine apologetically. "I forgot to mention it yesterday, what with everything..." He gestures vaguely with his hand.

"No, it's okay. Where are we going?" Blaine takes a sip of his coffee and hums, pleasantly surprised when he notices it's just the way he likes it. Again.

Kurt waves the letter in the air, munching on his toast. "I have to go check some things with the people that are organizing the concert. At the venue. They probably want to know if I've made the final decision on what I'm going to sing and make sure I know where the backstage is and so on..."

They've talked about the concert already, gone through the basics and where Blaine's place is, discussed it with the police and with Wes when everyone had realized that Kurt was not going to skip the concert. The organizers are aware of Kurt's situation, mostly because Wes thought it might ease some things – they know that Blaine is not just an assistant following Kurt around and they know that Blaine needs to keep an eye on Kurt at all times, even if nothing would happen. Things with the concert are going relatively well, but Blaine still knows that seeing the actual venue before the event itself is just a good thing. It's a matter of being prepared, now that things could be more serious.

"What are you going to sing then?" Blaine asks.

Kurt looks at him with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "That's a surprise," he sing-songs.

Blaine mock-gasps. "No! That's unfair! But wait, you're going to have to rehearse them? So I'm going to hear you singing the songs in the apartment at some point! A-hah!" He grins victoriously.

Kurt laughs. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not actually going to rehearse them that much. I picked songs that I already know. And you can stop that pouting, it's not going to work," he adds when Blaine juts his lower lip out.

Blaine rolls his eyes and leans back to take an apple from the bowl in the counter.

"So... We can go there today?" Kurt asks after a moment, when he's already moved on to reading the postcard.

"Yes, of course. Why couldn't we?" Blaine frowns and bites on his apple.

Kurt smiles at him over his coffee. "No reason."

-

The concert venue, where Kurt is meeting the organizers, is a small concert hall near Broadway. It reminds Blaine a little of the ballroom where Geoffrey's birthday party was held. The concert isn't big enough for one of the actual theaters – "and where would all the tables and the bar go?" – but still big enough to need several people organizing it, from the organization itself to the charity and to the actual performers.

Kurt waltzes through the hall with determination, Blaine following him, and nods a greeting to the people they pass by. They all smile back at him and spare a quick curious glance at Blaine. They must know who he is, but they haven't seen him before, and naturally he's going to attract attention and whispers.

A bodyguard who looks like that? Kurt Hummel's bodyguard? Didn't you hear about his anonymous stalker...

Blaine can already imagine what everyone is saying about him behind his back, and he tries to ignore the prickling feeling on the back of his neck. Kurt must be aware of the whispers as well, but he looks strong and gorgeous, his head held up high and his shoulders squared, wearing skin-tight jeans and a light jacket. (Blaine is most definitely not checking out Kurt's back and ass. Blaine is not doing that right now. Or ever.)

An older woman who's standing at the side of the room, wearing a skirt that matches the color of her hair perfectly, approaches Kurt with a notepad, and after genial greetings they start to go through the program, pointing here and there and asking questions. Blaine stays close but lets his eyes wander. The concert hall is obviously not finished yet: the stage is still empty of instruments and microphone stands, and a few workers are installing a temporary bar at the back, another few adjusting the spotlights over the hall, but it definitely looks like it's going to be ready in a few days. Blaine calculates the rough distance between the stage and the door and asks the woman talking to Kurt if he can see the floor plan. He tries to memorize most of it, but everything seems fine. The space between the tables isn't too small, and there seems to be enough room so that people won't get clustered together. Clusters are always difficult.

"Blaine?"

Kurt's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. The woman has flipped her notepad closed and she and Kurt are obviously finished, so Blaine flashes a smile and gives the floor plan back.

"Felicia and I managed to cover everything. Do you still need to...?" Kurt asks.

Blaine looks around the hall. "I could take a look at the backstage? If that's possible?"

The woman – Felicia – nods. "Of course. It's right this way."

There are less people roaming the backstage, and Felicia shows them where the dressing and storage rooms are. There's a spot right next to the stage, hidden behind the thick curtains, where the stage and even most of the hall can be see in their entirety. Blaine makes a mental note of it. He does need to see Kurt at all times, but he can't exactly stand next to him on the stage when he's singing. He wouldn't even want to. This concert is Kurt's shining moment, and Blaine's not going to steal any of his spotlight.

"I guess that's all," Kurt says and shakes Felicia's hand with a smile when their little tour is over. "I'll see you in a few days then."

Blaine shakes her hand as well. They're already making their leave when Felicia suddenly gasps and runs after them, her heels clinking against the floor. Kurt and Blaine stop and turn to look at her.

"I almost forgot – too many things on my mind and so on – but there's still one more thing," she says, starting to riffle through her purse. "We received this letter…"

Blaine can practically feel Kurt tensing next to him. "A letter?" he asks.

"Yes." Felicia lifts her hand, holding a discreet white envelope in it. "It was addressed to the organization, so we opened it. It didn't have a return address and... Well." Her eyes flick between Kurt and Blaine. "It's about you. Both of you, actually."

Blaine raises his eyebrows. Both of them? Kurt sighs next to him and puts out his hand. "Can I read it?"

"Yes, of course. We would have ignored it otherwise, but since we know about your, er, situation..." Felicia gives the letter to Kurt with a sad expression. "I'm sorry."

Kurt nods and opens the envelope, his fingers not shaking even the tiniest bit. As he folds the letter open Blaine leans over to read it as well. Thick black typed words spread from one margin to the other, saying over and over again how 'Mr. Kurt Hummel' is too talented for this concert, how the organizers clearly don't have the faintest idea of the immensity of his talent and how they don't deserve to have him gracing their stupid charity with his presence. The words are the same they've been in the previous letters, but when Blaine reaches the end of the letter he feels his breath catch in his throat:

You should also not let that dark-haired man that is always following Mr. Hummel around anywhere near him if you still decide to go on with your ridiculous concert. Mr. Hummel is too good for that man, for that sad pathetic little man – who also has violent tendencies. I saw him the other day, attacking a man right in front of Mr. Hummel. He is dangerous and we need to protect Mr. Hummel from him –

Blaine feels Kurt reach down between their bodies, thread their fingers together and give Blaine's hand a firm squeeze. When Blaine manages to tear his eyes from the letter and look at Kurt, something cold circling around his body, something that resembles a lot like failure, he has the sudden desire to apologize, to retreat back to professionalism, because isn't this what happened the last time? Isn't Blaine always making the situation worse with his actions?

Kurt stares back at him, his eyes steady but obviously searching Blaine's face for his emotions, and then he squeezes his hand again. "Hey, stop that. This is not your fault. You didn't fail."

Kurt's voice is silent and tender, even if he's obviously upset about the letter as well; the hand holding the letter has started to tremble minutely, and Blaine knows Kurt, knows his face, knows what he looks like when he's trying to stay together. He's trying to stay together for Blaine, and that's just wrong, in so many ways. Blaine blinks and squeezes Kurt's hand. He didn't fail. He can do this. Kurt needs him. He banishes the thoughts of retreating and of old regrets rising to surface out of his mind for now and gives Kurt a reassuring smile.

"I'm okay. Sorry." He is okay, in a way. It feels good that Kurt knows what makes his eyebrows furrow, knows why he says he's sorry without further explanations. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Kurt sighs. "I... Yeah." He throws a dirty look at the letter. "This just means that my anonymous fan has actually moved into stalking. Which also means that he probably has been at those previous events instead of scouring the Internet for photos. How delightful."

Blaine lets his thumb smooth over Kurt's knuckles. "We should probably call Wes."

Kurt nods and then suddenly seems to realize that Felicia is still standing awkwardly in front of them. She had acted a bit distant around Blaine before, but now she smiles at them both in a motherly way, and Blaine can feel his cheeks reddening. Kurt gives Blaine's hand one last squeeze and then lets go, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry you got involved in this, Felicia. If you want me to withdraw from the concert..." Kurt starts, but Felicia just waves her hand in the air.

"Nonsense, Kurt. You're one of the best costume designers this city has ever seen and people want to see your other talents as well. They want to see you sing." Felicia smiles brightly. "Besides, people like you are a prime example of what art programs can actually achieve in schools. We'd be refuting our own cause if we made you withdraw."

Blaine takes the letter from Kurt when he sees the moistness in Kurt's eyes, and Kurt crosses the distance to give Felicia a brief hug. "Thank you," he says softly.

Felicia pats his back. "Don't thank me. Just make sure you sing one hell of a song and that you're safe at our concert," she says and winks at Blaine. Blaine smiles and gives her a salute.

When Felicia leaves them, Kurt digs into his pocket for his phone, dialing Wes as Blaine starts to fold the letter back together. Felicia had evidently sliced the envelope open, and when Blaine tries to slip the letter neatly back into the envelope, he notices something under the flab, something stuck on the glue and barely visible against the white paper. He frowns and lifts the envelope closer to his eyes, trying to see what it is in the dim lighting of the hall.

Kurt starts talking next to him. "Hi Wes, it’s me..."

Blaine squints his eyes. It looks like there's a small... hair stuck between the flap and the envelope. It's light and short, definitely not one of Blaine's own dark curls or one of Kurt's brown hairs. It can't even be Felicia's – her hair is bright red with wavy curls – and the hair seems to have slipped under the flap before the envelope was closed. Which means...

Oh. Oh.

Blaine nearly drops the envelope when the realization hits him. He turns to Kurt quickly, tugging at his arm, and Kurt looks at him with his eyebrows raised. "Wes, hold on... Blaine? What is it?"

Blaine grins triumphantly. "I think... I think your anonymous fan might have made a mistake."

-

The cliché about police station coffee tasting stale is depressingly true. Kurt stares into his coffee mug, stirring the brown liquid with a plastic spoon. Blaine is sitting next to Kurt with his own coffee, and Wes is nursing a cup of tea in the corner of the office room they're currently waiting in while Levinson talks with his colleagues.

The letter had been whisked away to evidence. If the hair actually belongs to Kurt's anonymous fan, if it still has some DNA in it and if the anonymous fan-slash-stalker is in the police database, they have him. There are too many ifs in that equation, but they could actually have him. Kurt can't believe that he almost accidentally dropped the envelope at one point when he was reading it. He can't believe that Blaine actually noticed the tiny hair.

"Did you read the letter?" Wes asks in a low voice, leaning against the wall.

"Yeah, we did." Blaine puts his coffee down on the table. "It mentioned that I, um, detained a man when we were having lunch the other day. So the fan has definitely been stalking Kurt."

Wes is silent for a while. "Detained?" he finally asks, but his voice isn't judgmental or angry, and when Kurt turns to look at him there's actually a small smile playing on Wes' lips.

"He was being a homophobic idiot," Blaine explains. He looks embarrassed. "I... I didn't hurt him or anything, at least I don't think I did..."

"He didn't," Kurt adds.

Wes shakes his head fondly. "Relax, Blaine. I know you wouldn't hurt a fly."

Blaine glances to Wes with a grateful smile, and Kurt is once again reminded that his agent and bodyguard are actually friends. Amongst all the professionalism and anonymous letters he forgets it sometimes, but the way Blaine and Wes talk to each other, even look at each other, reminds Kurt of his and Rachel's friendship, the easiness of it. It makes him happy that Blaine has someone like Wes during all of this. Kurt feels like giving a grateful smile to Wes himself.

He would much rather think about things like that – about coffee and the way Blaine smiles and the no-nonsense presence Wes has – than about the too confusing aspects of his own anonymous fan situation. Because on one hand, his worst fears were just confirmed: his fan actually is a stalker who doesn't just spend hours searching for his pictures on the Internet (a depressing thought) but actually follows him around and watched him when he was having lunch (an even more depressing thought). But on the other hand, this is also the first time Levinson's eyes have almost bulged out of his head, the first time there's been a sliver of possible evidence on the letters. It's too overwhelming, all the bad and good feelings blending together inside Kurt, muddled and confusing, and he would much rather analyze the bland taste of his coffee than concentrate on the mess inside of him.

Blaine reaches out and gives Kurt's shoulder a small squeeze, shaking him out of his thoughts. "Hey," Blaine says softly. "Are you alright?"

Blaine's eyes are bright and worried, and Kurt feels the mess fade away a little when he looks into them. It's the Blaine effect, the way he always manages to make Kurt feel safe and not alone.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Just... too many thoughts running through my head."

Blaine looks sympathetic. "Same here, if it makes you feel any better."

"Me too, if either one of you cares to know," Wes quips, and Kurt gives a laugh.

Levinson comes back at that moment, nods at them in greeting and then sits behind his desk with a sigh. He looks at a picture on his desk with a fond smile, a photo of a younger man with his arm around a smiling woman. The man's hair is the same color as Levinson's, the same grey-brown, and Kurt thinks that maybe the man in the photo is the detective's son.

It takes a while, but eventually Levinson meets their expectant eyes.

"Well. I have news. I wouldn't say that they're good news, but they aren't necessarily bad news either, so..." He scratches the back of his neck. "We sent the hair to our lab, and one of the guys said that it seemed to have its root still intact, so we might get a DNA from it and cross-reference it against our own database. So that's a good thing."

"I sense a but coming," Wes says.

"Not really a but per se. We've been going through the previous letters and we gave them to this forensic linguist that sometimes consults us..." When Levinson seems to notice the confusion on Kurt's face he explains, "She has helped us determine whether different ransom notes were written by the same person, analyzing textual patterns and stuff like that. I don't really understand much about it, but we gave her your letters for analysis because she has worked on a few stalking cases before and she... She thinks you're not the first person this guy has harassed like this."

Kurt can see Blaine sit up straighter from the corner of his eye, but he can't tear his own eyes away from Levinson, not really understanding what he means. "What?"

Levinson clasps his hands over the table. "She thought the letters felt familiar so she compared them to these other unsolved harassment cases we have. Apparently the formal language and the font and the... syntactical features were similar, so it's very likely that your anonymous fan is the same person responsible for stalking three other people as well – a scriptwriter, a director and an actor. He seems to target people working on Broadway, for some bizarre reason."

"So... I'm not the only one he has sent anonymous letters to?" Kurt asks carefully. There are even more thoughts running around in his head, bumping into each other and not making any sense. It's almost too much, but he knows that he needs to focus, that this is important.

Levinson nods. "Yeah. It always starts with letters, first all polite, and then they get more demanding, and we think he – or she, but he is more likely, statistically speaking – we think he has committed some vandalism as well with his previous targets. And stalking, of course, finding out where the people he's harassing are going to be and so on."

"How does he find out about it all?" Wes asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We think he calls different people and organizations, sneaks into offices and pretends to be a journalist or someone from the business. But..." Levinson averts his eyes for a moment and then turns his gaze back, clearly choosing his words carefully. "If your stalker is the same guy, this is the first time he has sent letters to someone else besides the person he's harassing. The first time he has... escalated this quickly."

Blaine sucks in a quick breath next to Kurt. "Because this time his target hired a bodyguard. Because he saw me and got annoyed."

Kurt turns to look at Blaine so quickly that he can practically hear his neck snap. "What?" he exclaims, the sudden loud voice making Wes flinch in the corner.

Blaine keeps staring at Levinson, his eyes expressionless. "He turned aggressive in the first letter that mentioned me. I must have been the trigger that caused him to snap."

"Blaine..." Kurt breathes. He feels like he's about to be sick – not because he blames Blaine, but because he knows that Blaine blames himself, because Blaine is going to think he failed, and god, Kurt really hates his stalker for several reasons right now.

Levinson shrugs. "It's possible. Before it seems to have taken him months to become this insistent, and even then he's been very careful about never mentioning anything revealing and fading away just when we thought we had found something incriminating." He leans forward on his chair. "Look, forensic linguistics isn't really something we can build a case on, but it does give us a possibility. And we... We do have a possible suspect. This one guy, we suspected him for stalking those other people, but we never had enough evidence to get him. But he is a suspect. And that means we have his DNA."

Wes frowns. "So if that hair Blaine noticed has some DNA..."

Levinson nods. "Then we know for sure that we're dealing with the same stalker. We can build a case on that."

Kurt can't look at Blaine's expression anymore, not when it's obvious to Kurt himself that Blaine has actually made things better – Blaine's appearance made the anonymous fan screw up, Blaine noticed the hair, Blaine has made Kurt’s whole life better. So he reaches out and takes Blaine's hand, not caring that Levinson and Wes are right next to them. Blaine turns to look at him, and Kurt tries to convey everything with his eyes (this is not your fault, you didn't fail, trust me Blaine, you can care, you don't have to shut yourself out, I need you right now).

Blaine blinks once, and then his face softens, like some silent conversation or understanding has passed between them. Kurt mentally pats himself on the back, letting himself focus back on the conversation but not letting go of Blaine's hand. They need to talk about this all, of course they do, but knowing that Blaine isn't going to retreat back to professionalism will always be a relief.

Levinson doesn't even bat an eye at Kurt and Blaine's joined hands. "Of course we don't know for sure whether this stalker is the same one we've been investigating. We'll have to wait for the DNA tests for that, but the linguistics and the pattern do seem familiar."

"Do you have a picture of that suspect for those previous cases?" Wes asks, ever the professional. "It could be a long-shot, but maybe one of us might recognize him."

Levinson starts to go through the files on his desk. "Yes, of course. I was actually going to ask you to take a look..."

Kurt swallows. What if it's a picture of someone he knows? The anonymous fan could be anyone, but before this he has always been a faceless abstract thing in Kurt's mind, someone that doesn't actually exist outside the letters. Kurt has believed in best case scenarios and ignored the worst, perhaps a little innocently, but that's how he has kept going. What if he recognizes the person in the photo? What if the anonymous fan, the stalker, has been sitting in the next table every time Kurt and Blaine have gone out for lunch, what if he has taken Kurt's coat at different events, what if he has always been there and Kurt just hasn't noticed him?

His heart is beating loudly in his chest when Levinson finally finds a large photograph from one of the files and leans over to hand it to Kurt first. Blaine's hand is still holding Kurt’s, a comforting pressure on his palm, and Kurt takes a deep breath before he lifts his eyes and takes the photo.

He had sort of been expecting a mug shot, but the large photograph is clearly from a surveillance camera, the empty hallway of an office building with a lone man staring straight into the camera. Kurt doesn't recognize him. The photo is black and white, but the man still clearly has light hair, the messy locks pointing in every direction, and his face looks completely ordinary, the kind that wouldn't make Kurt look twice if the man walked past him on the street. Somehow that's even worse than the thought of him being someone Kurt knows. If the DNA matches, it means that some complete stranger decided to stalk Kurt, that some completely random person saw his costumes in a play and decided that hey, here's someone I will send anonymous letters to, this will be great!

Kurt swallows again and shakes his head. "I don't recognize him."

"You sure?" Levinson asks, his eyes gentle and concerned. He must be a great dad, the kind that listens to his kids' problems, and Kurt finds himself suddenly missing his own dad.

He takes one more look at the photo, but the man's face is still completely unfamiliar, a combination of features he can't remember seeing before. "I'm sure," he says and hands over the photo to Blaine. He doesn't want to touch it any longer than necessary.

Wes leans over to look at the photo over Blaine's shoulder, furrows his brows for a moment, but then he shakes his head as well. "I can't say that I recognize him either. He could be anyone."

Levinson sighs. "Well, it was a long-shot in any case. It could have pointed us in the right direction, but..."

"Wait."

Blaine's voice is small and a little unsure, but it makes the whole room stop, makes Kurt turn to look at him with surprise. Blaine is staring at the photo, and he gently disentangles his hand from Kurt's and holds the picture in front of his face with both hands, his face concentrated and thoughtful. There are no sounds; Kurt doesn't even think he's breathing right now, too focused on the tiny wrinkles between Blaine's eyebrows and the way his eyes are moving as he takes in everything in the grainy photograph.

"I've seen him before," Blaine finally says as he lowers the picture back to his lap.

"Where?" Levinson asks, flipping his notepad open.

"I... I remember seeing him at the first party I went to with Kurt – that fundraiser your friend organized?" Blaine glances quickly at Kurt and then turns his eyes back to the picture, scrunching up his face in thought. "He walked towards the bar when we were standing there, and I thought he looked a bit shady, so I steered Kurt a few steps further away from him."

"How can you –" Kurt starts but Blaine interrupts him.

"And I saw him at Geoffrey's birthday party as well. He was... He was sitting at the table next to ours, not talking to anyone. He looked familiar, but since the theater circles aren't that big I just thought that he knew the organizers of both events, like Kurt." Blaine frowns. "I didn't realize he was there to..."

Blaine trails off, not wanting to say what everyone already knows. Wes is staring at him with a surprisingly proud look, as if he always knew getting Blaine to be Kurt's bodyguard was a good choice and now everyone can suddenly see how right he was. Levinson's pen is hovering above his notepad, and Kurt feels like he should laugh, break the sudden stunned surprise that has fallen over the small office. He feels like laughing because Blaine – the man who thought he would fail, who was so sure that he couldn't keep Kurt safe – has done a better job than anybody else could have. And Kurt knew it already. He knew it from the first moment he saw Blaine.

"Well then." Levinson smiles and puts his pen down. "That makes our theory about the stalker being this guy seem even more likely. That's good."

Kurt finally manages to find his own voice again, still staring at Blaine. "How can you remember him after only seeing him briefly two times?"

Blaine turns to look at him and shrugs like it's not a big deal. "I just... I have a good face memory. It's useful if you want to be a teacher."

Kurt gives a laugh. It's a bit overwhelmed and astonished, but Blaine grins at him uncertainly anyway.

The rest of the day is a blur. They're all interviewed again, separately and together, and at Kurt's insistence Levinson tells them more about the previous cases. Not too many details, but a few additional facts, and everything sounds so familiar, like Kurt has been there himself – but then again he kind of has, kind of still is. The facts, however, do make Kurt feel even more grateful for Blaine. Apparently the other victims hadn't hired a bodyguard and had tried to deal with it by themselves. The stalker might have turned angrier because of Blaine, because he has a stupid fixation that Kurt is too good for everyone, but Kurt can't imagine doing this alone. He can't imagine doing this without Blaine, without Blaine's comforting presence always next to him.

It's already late in the evening when they finally get home, both Wes and Levinson promising to call Kurt if something changes. Kurt calls his dad, spends almost two hours on the phone with him and with Carole as well, convincing them that everything is alright and that yes, he's going to perform at the concert, and no, they don't have to take the next flight to New York, Kurt has Blaine and he doesn't want his dad to leave the tire shop because of this. He doesn't want to complicate anyone else's life any further.

He can hear Blaine talking in the guest room, probably calling his brother or his parents as well and explaining the situation to them. Kurt thinks about the teacher Blaine could be, reassuring and calm, smiling and supportive, and maybe Blaine can finally go back to college if they catch the stalker. If he feels ready after all of this. As good as Blaine is as a bodyguard, Kurt can see it's not something he particularly loves to do, and the thought of Blaine getting to move on gives Kurt more strength.

They don't talk about the stalker that night, not yet, avoiding the topic to hold on to the fragile hope that has started to grow in both their hearts. Kurt makes dinner, Blaine does the dishes, and then they watch some old musical from the television until Kurt can feel his eyelids starting to droop, his shoulder leaning closer and closer to Blaine on the sofa. Blaine practically carries him to the bedroom, and Kurt falls asleep with Blaine's fingers stroking his hair, his voice humming silently to a song Kurt doesn't recognize.

-

The next afternoon Blaine finds Kurt sitting on the sofa in his office, a blank expression on his face and his fingers fiddling nervously with his phone. The room is dim, curtains halfway closed and the lights flicked off, and Blaine stops to look at Kurt for a moment. He doesn't like it when Kurt looks like this, this unsure and nervous, and he would do anything to make him smile again, make his eyes and face light up like they so often do. Blaine has never liked to see people sad and it always gives him an insufferable urge to do something, anything, to help somehow. But with Kurt those feelings seem almost unbearable – like he can't exist properly if Kurt is sad, like Kurt's sadness makes Blaine feel empty and hollow as well.

He steps into the room and sits down next to Kurt on the sofa, so close that their thighs are touching. Kurt doesn't flinch away, doesn't say anything, just stares at the phone that is still moving restlessly in his hands, a flicker of movement in the otherwise still moment.

"What's wrong?" Blaine asks softly.

Kurt blinks, his eyes focusing first until he glances at Blaine. "Levinson called," he murmurs. "The results came back."

Blaine doesn't have to ask what results Kurt is talking about. He gently takes the phone from Kurt, setting it on the armrest, and then holds Kurt's hands in his own. Instinctively his thumb starts rubbing over Kurt's knuckles in a slow rhythm. "And?" he prompts.

Kurt stares at their joined hands. "It's a match." He takes a shuddering breath. "The... That man you recognized from that photo? His DNA matches the hair's DNA. It's him."

Blaine inches closer to Kurt on the sofa and leans to rest his cheek against Kurt's shoulder, breathing in his scent as his thumb never stops its movement. "Did Levinson say anything else?"

"He said that the fan... That the stalker doesn't have a regular address. Or a phone number. He doesn't even have a P.O. box, he doesn't have anything." Kurt shivers. "So we know who he is, we know what he looks like, but we can't..."

"We can't catch him," Blaine finishes for him. The small hope that had started to grow inside of him with Kurt's previous words starts to fade, turning into something cold and bitter, and he closes his eyes. It's not fair. From the moment he noticed the hair on the envelope Blaine has been thinking that maybe this is it, maybe they can get rid of the stalker and maybe Kurt can continue his life without fear. But of course things are never that easy – Blaine should know that by now, but he's still a hopeless optimist at heart, always hoping for the best.

There's still a small part of him, the bodyguard part, that is already preparing for the worst.

"But he's coming to the charity concert the day after tomorrow," Kurt continues. "Levinson thinks he won't break his pattern."

Blaine opens his eyes and turns to look at Kurt. "Are you going to withdraw?" he asks carefully. He knows how much the concert means to Kurt, has seen the smile on his face when he talks about it, has seen the design he made for the suit he's going to wear ("because, Blaine, costume design is my passion and I want to incorporate it into this concert"), has seen how annoyed he's been when anyone has suggested that he should just lay low and hope the anonymous fan goes away. But maybe things have changed now that the fan isn't so anonymous anymore.

Kurt shakes his head. "No. I'm going to perform." He inhales, sitting up a little straighter. "And we're going to catch that stalker if he shows up."

Blaine lifts his head. "Wait, what?"

"Levinson asked the organizers if it would be okay to have more guards and undercover police officers at the concert, and they agreed. So I'm going to perform. And the stalker is probably going to show up because that's what he does whenever I attend anything. And when he shows up..."

"They're going to arrest him?" Blaine stares at Kurt, his mind suddenly a whirring mess of thoughts and feelings and doubts and reassures. "So it's like... I don't know, like a set-up?"

Kurt nods. "Yeah. A set-up. Because they can't find him any other way. He's sneaky like that."

Kurt's short laugh is bitter and angry, and the sound of it hurts Blaine almost physically, like he wants to flinch or like someone has slapped him in the face. It's not fair. It just isn't.

"Levinson had called Wes first and Wes had... He said that he'll agree as long as I do. That it's my choice." Kurt looks down on his hands again, on Blaine's fingers still entwined around his own. He looks a bit baffled, like he had already forgotten the touch. "And I agreed."

Blaine swallows. "Why?"

"Because I want this whole... mess to be over with. This anonymous fan, stalker, whatever – he has brought nothing but bad things into my life. Nothing but misery and messiness and fear, and I just want to leave it all behind and move on. And if the police catch him, I can do that."

Kurt turns to look at Blaine, an unreadable emotion shining behind his eyes, and no matter how hard Blaine tries, he can't read it. He can't understand what Kurt is trying to say behind his words and with his eyes.

"We both can move on," Kurt whispers.

Blaine startles and looks away, something crumpling inside of him. "Oh."

Move on.

He doesn't know how he feels about moving on. It's hard to imagine it, imagine leaving New York and leaving the bodyguard duties behind. Leaving Kurt behind, after everything they've been through. The thought seems almost impossible. But Kurt has a chance to be free now, to live his life fully again, to move on. To be happy again. He deserves it. And perhaps having a bodyguard, having Blaine constantly around him is one of those things that's keeping him still, dragging him down, one of those bad things the anonymous fan has brought with him.

The doubts are starting to creep back into Blaine's head, the ones that all of his failures have imprinted on his mind, the ones he was reminded of just a few days ago, and he swallows again, more roughly this time, before he shifts on the sofa to put a little distance between himself and Kurt.

"Are you... nervous?" he asks.

Kurt laughs, but it doesn't sound bitter this time; it's watery and amused, and Blaine feels something tighten inside of his chest with it. "No, not at all – I perform in front of audiences every day, especially in front of audiences with my anonymous stalker in them. Who might or might not try to hurt me because you never quite know what makes a stalker snap."

Blaine ducks his head. "Sorry. That was a pretty stupid question."

"No, it's okay." Kurt sighs. "It just... It was somehow easier when the anonymous fan was just that. Anonymous. When he was just a blurry face without any features. It was almost like he wasn't real, like I could pretend that he didn't exist outside his letters." He shakes his head. "But now he has a face, he has a body, he has a name, and I just... He's a person, Blaine. And I just can't stop thinking about why he's doing this, what made him this way, what triggered him to start stalking people working on Broadway. It's so much more real now that he's an actual person, and I don't... I don't understand it, Blaine, I don't. Why did he choose me? I'm just a costume designer. I mean, a fabulous costume designer, but still."

Blaine could crack a joke to loosen the tension, could say something deep and meaningful, but what comes out if his mouth instead is the only thing he can think of right now, the only truth he knows: "I don't know."

Kurt turns to look at him, his eyes soft and a little sad. "Me neither."

That night Blaine hits his punching bag harder than he usually does, frustrated because he doesn't have all the answers, anxious because his emotions are a mess, angry because the world is so unfair, disappointed because he didn't manage to completely erase the sad look from Kurt's eyes. Terrified because the cage he had almost forgotten about is shaking inside of him, rattling his feelings around.

He has the earbuds of his iPod in his ears, the old playlist he made when he was younger and started to box playing almost too loudly. His shoulders ache a little, his fists hit the bag with a satisfying sound and his feet dance with his punches. He can feel sweat trailing down his back and his breath is coming out in harsh gasps – and then suddenly there's a hand on his shoulder, long fingers squeezing it gently.

He startles, arms still raised in a fighting stance until he turns around and sees Kurt standing behind him, his arms immediately dropping. Kurt looks determined for some reason, strong and gorgeous as always, and when Blaine searches his face he doesn't find any traces of sadness, like they've somehow evaporated in the last few hours.

Blaine flicks the earbuds off and tries to control his breathing. "Sorry," he gasps out. "Was it... Was I too loud?"

"What? No, nothing like that." Kurt waves his hand in the air. "I just wanted to tell you that... Um. Wes called."

Blaine gets the boxing gloves off and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. "He did? Why?"

"He asked me if I wanted to hire another bodyguard for the concert." Kurt hesitates for a moment. "A professional one."

Blaine blinks. "Oh."

"It's not that he doesn't trust you or anything like that," Kurt hastens to say, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "He just said that with the stalker showing up and with the police officers and all I might want someone more trained and..." Kurt cringes. "That doesn't sound any better."

Blaine shakes his head. "Kurt, relax. I know Wes. I know he didn't mean it as a no-confidence vote." He turns away to put his gloves down and takes his towel from the chair. "He probably just wants to make sure that you're as safe as you can be. And let's face it, apart from a few self-defense lessons I don't really have any kind of training. If you want to hire someone else –"

"But I don't," Kurt interrupts him.

Blaine turns back to look at Kurt. The determination is still there, in the way Kurt's chin is jutting out just a little, in the way his eyes seem so steady. Blaine on the other hand doesn't think he has ever felt less determined. "You... What?"

"I told Wes that I don't want another bodyguard, professional or not. I want someone I trust. Someone who trusts me." Kurt straightens his back. "I want you."

Blaine almost drops the towel. He knows that Kurt is just saying that he wants him as his bodyguard, but the words make something spark inside of him, something warm and exciting and huge, something he's tried to suppress ever since he saw Kurt for the first time. Blaine has a vivid imagination, and suddenly he can't help picturing Kurt saying those three words in a different way, in a different context, and his heart starts beating faster with just the thought of it.

Blaine isn't used to his body betraying him like this; he prides himself on being in control most of time, on keeping himself together, on allowing himself to slip as little as possible. There's something about Kurt that makes him want to ignore all those regulations, right here and right now. He wants to let go, let loose, allow his feelings and his body to guide him no matter the consequences.

But he's still a bodyguard, and the doubts from a few hours ago start stomping their feet, becoming louder and clearer, his feelings shaking in their cage, scared of the sudden noise.

What if the trust he and Kurt have between them is just a way to make their professional relationship work in this exceptional situation? What if Blaine is feeling too much, what if he has misunderstood everything, what if his fears are right? Kurt did just say that he wants Blaine to be a bodyguard, he talks about moving on and leaving everything behind, he deserves to be happier than this – and with a startle Blaine realizes that he has to let Kurt move on one day.

He has to let go of Kurt someday very soon if everything works out. He has to let himself be left behind.

Blaine ducks his head and scratches his neck. "That's a lot of trust you have in me," he says with a soft laugh. It feels fake, but maybe Kurt won't notice it.

Kurt bends his head until he can look into Blaine's eyes. "It is. And I know you won't let me down."

Blaine swallows. He has his doubts, his fears of failing once again, but this isn't just a job anymore, not just a distraction, not for Blaine. It's Kurt, and Blaine wants to, no, needs to keep him safe. So that Kurt, gorgeous and brilliant and breath-taking Kurt, can move on and be happy and have the life he deserves. No matter what it takes.

Saying that all out loud seems a bit too much, so he just says, "Okay."

Kurt smiles. "I'm going to bed soon, so... Um." He blushes, and Blaine has to wonder why. "My room or your room tonight?"

Blaine looks around the guest room. He can smell his own sweat in the air, can practically feel how stuffy the room is. "Yours?"

Kurt nods. "I'll leave you to your boxing then. Just don't stay up too long." He turns around, and with one last look at Blaine over his shoulder, walks out of the room.

Blaine leans against the wall when the door closes quietly behind Kurt. His own heart is beating loudly inside his chest, and he doubts it has anything to do with the boxing. The feelings are shaking inside of him, threatening to reach out because Kurt is amazing, because Kurt always bounces back, because Kurt picks himself up and refuses to be the victim. Because Kurt trusts him more than anyone ever has, because Blaine just caught himself watching the subtle movements of Kurt's back when he walked away, because Kurt is somehow one of his best friends, maybe even something a bit more, and because Blaine has fought this feeling for too long and now it's suddenly coming back to haunt him.

Because Kurt wants him. But not in the way Blaine desperately hopes he would. The fear hits him like a train wreck, and Blaine tugs at his hair with a frustrated sigh. It hurts, the thought of letting Kurt go hurts, and Blaine suddenly just wishes, oh, how he wishes that he could touch Kurt at least once without the anonymous stalker or their professional relationship hanging in the air between them.

Without the words move on hanging between them.

Blaine lowers his hands and breathes slowly in and out until he can feel his head being in control again, until he can fight the feelings again. He pushes himself off the wall and goes to take a shower, lets the warm water soothe his muscles and his mind. He dries his curls meticulously and pulls on his pajamas before padding down the hallway to Kurt's bedroom. Kurt gives him a smile and scoots over, and Blaine climbs on to the bed, rearranges his limbs until he feels comfortable and pulls the comforter over himself. Kurt curls up next to him, wishing him goodnight with a sleepy voice and sighing contently against the pillow.

Blaine tenses, the words professional and move on chanting through his head, but he still moves a little closer until he can feel the warmth of Kurt's body against his own. That's all he can do. That's all he can settle for. He lets himself forget bodyguards and anonymous stalkers for a moment, for one night. These are the only moments when they aren't standing between him and Kurt so starkly, when he can be just Blaine and Kurt can be just Kurt, and nothing can touch them – before the morning light brings everything back and Blaine has to put on a calming smile once again even if he knows his heart is about to break.