They're all gathered in Kurt's living room, in the middle of the dark furniture and framed Broadway posters and photographs. Rachel is sitting next to Kurt on the sofa, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly while Kurt massages his temples and stares at his feet. Wes is talking with someone on the phone, trying to find out how an anonymous fan can know Kurt's address – whereas Blaine is just standing still, reading the letter over and over again, trying to make sense of everything and feeling like he's failing in his efforts.

Everything is suddenly more serious, more threatening, more real, and Blaine isn't sure if he’s ready for something like this yet. He had seen New York and protecting Kurt Hummel as easy and simple distractions, similar to the events he's been to with Cooper, had seen the anonymous fan as an innocent and shy person who just appreciates Kurt's talent. But this? This isn't innocent and easy and simple anymore; this is someone, some complete stranger finding out Kurt's address and sending him a letter just to show off.

Blaine can see Kurt's eyes darting to the door, and he feels his heart constrict painfully in his chest. He's not ready for something like this, something this serious. He's not ready to protect Kurt from someone who has invaded his privacy and his home. Blaine is used to fans who know their distance and only go crazy during events, screaming next to the red carpet and reaching over the security rope. He is used to grabbing hands and wild eyes. He isn't used to someone taking their time, staying anonymous and slowly starting to unravel a person's privacy with seemingly kind messages.

Wes hangs up and drags his fingers through his short hair. "I called the office, and they have no idea how anyone could have gotten your address. They haven't given it to anyone, so it must've been someone you know, perhaps accidentally mentioning your address in a conversation or something."

Kurt doesn't lift his head. "I can't believe this is happening. I came here to escape things like this," he mumbles.

Rachel wraps her arm around him, and Blaine wants to do the same, wants to say or do anything comforting. The Kurt currently sitting on the sofa is such a stark difference to the Kurt he met a few days ago, the man who was obviously tired after a long day but who still put up a fight, who yelled at his friend and spoke his mind, and Blaine wants to help. He always wants to help people, but this time all he can do is to stay still, staring at Kurt's fingertips moving across his temples in small circles.

Wes takes the letter from Blaine and reads it through once again. "Well, if we have to find a bright side from this whole mess, at least the note itself isn't more threatening than the previous ones. But I still think we should tell the police."

Kurt finally lifts his head, clasping his hands in his lap. "Yeah. That might be a good idea. They might not take it seriously since the letters aren't that threatening, but at least they know about them in case something... more serious happens."

Rachel makes a miserable, choked sound and Blaine swallows loudly, everyone trying to erase the worst case scenarios from their heads, trying to remind themselves that nothing violent has happened, that there are no real signs of danger. Not yet, at least.

"How are you doing?" Wes asks after a moment, his smile gentle in a way that reminds Blaine of his first day at Dalton, of bruises still healing under his uniform and Wes sitting next to him in the cafeteria, asking him who he was and if he liked singing.

Kurt takes a deep breath and straightens his back. "As well as possible, I guess. Mostly I'm just annoyed,” he mutters, and Blaine is surprised to notice that his voice doesn't sound tired or dull anymore, that there's a hint of the defiance from a few days ago seeping back into his voice.

Rachel hasn't said a lot since they arrived but now she lifts her eyebrow curiously. "Annoyed?"

"Annoyed that I have to deal with something like this on top of everything. Annoyed that someone out there knows where I live, that someone out there probably thinks it's fun to send me anonymous letters and watch me dance. Well, screw them. I'm not going to change my whole life because of some stupid nameless fan. Fuck him. Or her."

Blaine can see Wes trying to hide a smile, and Rachel smirks against Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt, on the other hand, turns his gaze to Blaine and looks at him with so much determination that Blaine wants to turn away and hide.

"So if your offer still stands," Kurt continues, "I'd like you to be my, ugh, my bodyguard, even though I still really hate that word." He shudders. "Anyway – I know this is kind of sudden, but since the anonymous fan knows my address I thought that... Maybe with you keeping me safe I could continue living the way I want to?"

Blaine swallows again when he sees Kurt's hopeful smile, and he has to conjure up every ounce of Dalton-Blaine still hiding inside him. "Perhaps you should hire a professional bodyguard instead? Since the situation has changed, you might feel safer with someone who actually..." knows what he's doing, Blaine wants to admit, but instead he says, "... who actually has more experience and who's been doing this professionally for a longer period of time."

Kurt stares at him. "So... You don't want to be my bodyguard?"

"No, it's not that, I just – I think you'd be better off with someone who has protected other people besides his own brother and who is perhaps more willing to beat people up." Blaine shrugs awkwardly.

"But I don’t want my bodyguard to beat people up." Kurt keeps looking at him, as if he's searching his face for something. "And like I said, I want my life to continue as normally as possible and I don't want to give that idiotic anonymous fan the pleasure of seeing me coming to events with a bulky bodyguard who looks like he'll crush anyone who comes close to me. I have a feeling you wouldn't crush anyone," he jokes.

Blaine feels his heart constrict again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

"I talked about it earlier with Wes, and I think you're professional enough for me. Alright?" Kurt finishes, not once averting his eyes.

Blaine glances to Wes, wondering when they had gotten a chance to talk about him and what Wes had exactly told to Kurt. Wes gives him a reassuring smile, like he's wordlessly saying that he didn't tell anything too personal. Blaine knows he can trust him. He always does, and the few times he went against his instincts and didn't trust Wes didn't end up that well.

He looks back to Kurt and Rachel who are both staring at him, waiting for his answer. Distraction. Distance. Those were the reasons Blaine had come to New York, but the distraction is proving out to be a bit larger than he expected. He can feel himself falling for Kurt already, for his brave smile and quick words, but Blaine can't allow it, can't let himself feel too much for someone. There's a part of him that wants to turn and run away, fly back to LA and forget everything about Kurt Hummel – but there's a stronger feeling growing inside of him, stronger than his silly romantic feelings, stronger than his fears of failure.

The urge to protect, to help people, to keep them safe.

Blaine has always believed in the best in people, even after Sadie Hawkins, even after his failed relationships in college and even after his ultimate failure, but he's not stupid; he knows that people can be cruel and violent as well, and he likes to keep the best people away from the cruel and violent people. He takes a deep breath, lets the feelings of protecting and helping drown the romantic feelings, lets the memory of how he felt when he first saw Kurt sink somewhere deep and dark inside his mind, lets Kurt become Mr. Hummel again.

"You're absolutely sure that you want me to be your bodyguard?" he asks.

Kurt stares at his face, seeing something that makes him frown, but after a few seconds he nods anyway.

Blaine chances another quick glance to Wes, who is following the conversation quietly. Wes catches Blaine's gaze and gives him a small sincere nod.

Blaine exhales. "Okay. Alright. I'll be your... Your bodyguard." He furrows his eyebrows on the last word, unable to come up with a better synonym.

Like a few months ago in Cooper's living room, there are no excited screams or jumps, no fist bumps or high fives – not that Blaine even expected any. Rachel releases the breath she'd apparently been holding, and both Kurt and Wes smile at Blaine.

Blaine's answer also seems to bring Rachel back from her quiet apathy. She suddenly claps her hands together, and her eyes gleam with excitement, even if it seems a bit forced. "Now that that's settled, there are so many other things we need to settle as well, right, Kurt? The terms or conditions or arrangements; after all, it's not a simple matter to have a bodyguard, and while I don't really have much experience from it, not personally, I have watched enough movies to know that there have to be certain rules in this kind of relationship..."

Kurt laughs softly, and Blaine feels relieved that Kurt's already smiling and seeming more like the Kurt he first met. His feelings are still trying to rise to the surface, trying to break free from their cage, but Blaine keeps thinking about Dalton-Blaine, the teenager who tried to help everyone even though he didn't really know anything and was just as confused and scared as everyone else, possibly even more so – he just was better at hiding it. If he's going to be Kurt's bodyguard, he needs to become Dalton-Blaine, the person who didn't wear his heart on his sleeve. He needs to focus.

Wes' phone beeps, making everyone startle. He glances at his phone and then sighs. "I have to get back to the office. I'm sure you can work out the arrangement without me here, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Kurt says, nodding understandingly.

"Alright. I'll see you later, Blaine." Wes reaches out to pat Blaine's shoulder.

"Oh, do you two have plans for the evening?" Rachel perks up. "Because I have a show tonight and I just wanted you to know that there are still a few seats left and..."

"Er, no?" Wes looks confused. "I just assumed that Blaine would be staying at my place or..." His voice trails off when he sees the contemplative look on Kurt's face.

"Could he... I know this sounds really weird, but could you perhaps stay here?" Kurt looks to Blaine who can only blink back at him. "I mean, I have a guest room, and since you're now my bodyguard and this anonymous fan knows my address I would probably feel safer if you were here all the time, but if it makes you uncomfortable in any way, you can of course stay at Wes' place – I know it's probably a weird suggestion but I just thought that it would make everything a lot easier and we could get to know each other since I do sort of need to trust you for this thing to work and..."

"Sure," Blaine interrupts Kurt's babbling. Inside he's half excited and half terrified – or maybe one third excited and two thirds terrified – but logically he knows that what Kurt is saying is a good idea. If he's supposed to actually protect Kurt, he's supposed to protect him twenty-four-seven, not just during business hours. There are no business hours or commute if he's a bodyguard. He remembers the way Kurt's eyes had darted to the door only a few minutes earlier and knows that he needs to stay here.

He should probably say that out loud as well, since Kurt is still staring at him, his fingers moving over his knuckles in a nervous way.

Blaine lets his mouth turn into a calming smile. At least he can behave like a professional. "Of course I will stay here if it makes you feel safer."

"It does, Blaine, it really does. Thank you." Kurt's shoulders relax, and Blaine has to resist the sudden urge to slap himself. The way Kurt says his name somehow manages to sound different from all the ways other people say it, softer and more tender, and damn it, he really shouldn't be thinking about things like that right now.

"Alright then. I'll swing by the police station on my way and let them know about these letters." Wes waves the note in his hand and Kurt almost glares at it. "I'll call you if they need to talk to you as well or anything."

Kurt nods and gives Wes a thankful smile. "Thanks, Wes. You're truly the best agent I could ask for."

Rachel coughs. "After I almost forced him..."

"Yes, thank you for your input, Rachel." Wes rolls his eyes and then looks to Blaine. "I can send your stuff here when I get home tonight, if that's okay? Sarah will probably want to send you all cookies or something anyway."

"Sure, that sounds fine."

Wes leaves with a nod and a wave, and when the door closes behind him Blaine feels as if he should take charge. Kurt and Rachel are both looking at him with expecting eyes, and Blaine frantically tries to remember what he had asked from Cooper's friends when he'd been their bodyguard. This is a completely different situation – he's protecting a gorgeous costume designer from a possibly crazy fan for who knows how long, no big deal – and usual arrangements can only get him so far. But at least so far is somewhere.

-

Blaine still looks kind – Kurt wonders if it's his default expression, if Blaine is just one of those people who always look like they are ready to help or lend an ear – but when Blaine had asked if Kurt really wanted him to be his bodyguard something had clouded his face, like a shadow falling over his features. Perhaps it's the same curtain Kurt had seen in Blaine's eyes a few days earlier, but now it's suddenly over his whole face, dimming his soft features and making him seem more detached, more distant.

It's a shame, it really is; a part of why Kurt found himself wanting Blaine to be his bodyguard was because he could see the emotions so clearly on Blaine's face. He could immediately, after just a few minutes in the same room with him, see when he was feeling uncomfortable or when he was thinking about something too hard. Kurt could feel like he could trust Blaine. He almost wishes he could smooth the current worry lines away from Blaine's forehead with his thumb, and wow, where did that completely inappropriate thought come from? Blaine's still his bodyguard, not a guy he can have an awkward crush for. Get a grip, Hummel.

Blaine clears his throat. "So, Mr. Hummel, could you tell me –"

"Oh god!" Kurt squeaks, his eyes widening as he jumps up from the sofa. "I just realized that I don't know your last name! This is so awkward. I just hired you to be my bodyguard and I don't even know your full name." He holds out his hand. "Why don’t we try this again? Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel, 24 years old and a costume designer. Enchanté."

Blaine stares at his hand for a moment and then takes it, smiling a little. His handshake is warm and firm, but not too warm or too firm – it's fitting, in a way. "Hi. Blaine Anderson, also 24 years old and a part-time bodyguard," he jokes. "It’s nice to meet you."

Rachel is looking at them both with a curious expression, and Kurt lets go of Blaine's hand, even though a part of him wants to keep holding on. Blaine's touch seems to have the same calming effect as his smile.

Kurt shakes his head to clear his mind. "Sorry, you were saying something before I interrupted."

Blaine blinks, the curtain falling back to its place. "Oh, right. As I was saying, Mr. Hummel..." he starts, but then Kurt shakes his head again, stopping Blaine with a raised hand before he gets any further.

When Kurt was waiting for everyone to get to his apartment, he reached a conclusion: if Blaine was going to be his bodyguard, Kurt would do his very best to keep living the same way he always had. Kurt Hummel is nothing if determined, and he's not going to let a few anonymous letters scare him into hiding. He's going to work as usual, go to events as usual, occasionally go out and have fun with his friends as usual – but with a bodyguard. It's not exactly ideal, it's not exactly what Kurt dreamed his life would be like after he got his big break, but he's going to make it work. He's going to feel safe again. Blaine doesn't look like a traditional bodyguard, which is a huge advantage for his plan.

And his plan involves them being on a first name basis.

"Look, Blaine," he says pointedly, "this whole thing is already weird enough – I don't think I've ever heard of a costume designer who needed a bodyguard before. So I honestly think it would be best if we pretended that you're my assistant instead of my bodyguard. At least in public. You can follow me around, live here with me and protect me from angry mobs, but if anyone asks, I'll just introduce you as my assistant." Kurt looks to Rachel before turning his attention back to Blaine, to give her some credit for the original idea. "And that means you'll call me by my first name and I'll call you Blaine."

Blaine's expression doesn’t change, but he blinks his eyes again, the curtain staying in place, hiding whatever thoughts are going through his head. It's starting to annoy Kurt.

"Blaine?" he ventures, testing the name in his mouth.

"I prefer Mr. Hummel." Blaine doesn't say it like he's trying to pick up a fight, doesn't say it to get on anyone's nerves – he just states it as a fact, and Kurt thinks it's a bit ridiculous. They've already established that they are the same age, and it seems almost like Blaine is purposefully distancing himself for whatever reason. Maybe that's how he's done things during his previous bodyguard jobs, but Kurt knows it won't work with him.

So he sighs exasperatedly and crosses his arms over his chest. "And I prefer Kurt. Seriously Blaine, it sounds like you're talking to my dad if you call me Mr. Hummel. Or do you want me to call you Mr. Anderson? That sounds a bit too much like The Matrix to me."

"You can call me whatever you want. I'll use Mr. Hummel," Blaine responds, with a note of finality in his voice. His phone beeps suddenly, and while he's digging it out of his pocket and reading the message, Kurt shoots Rachel a confused look, one that he hopes conveys what he doesn't want to say out loud.

What the hell, is he actually serious? I thought this was going well!

Rachel shrugs, as if she's saying, don't look at me, he's not my bodyguard, and Kurt hates her a little for that because this whole thing was Rachel's idea, and now he's the one who has to deal with a bodyguard that seemed completely nice a few moments ago but is suddenly acting strange and distant.

Blaine coughs to get Kurt's attention and seems to ignore their silent conversation. "So, Mr. Hummel, as I was saying, I think I need your schedule. And a... key to your apartment? If that's okay?"

Kurt ends up having to ask his spare key back from Rachel to give it to Blaine. Rachel, naturally, looks indignant but complies after Kurt gives her a stern look. Kurt doesn't have a fixed schedule, so he just lets Blaine browse through his calendar for a moment, as weird as it seems (thank goodness he keeps his random thoughts and feelings away from his calendar, because this could get really awkward really fast), and suggests that they talk about specific plans for every day each morning.

Blaine simply nods.

Kurt shows Blaine around the apartment, shows him the guest room where he'll be staying. It's not much, just a double-sized bed, a closet, a chair and a small bedside table. The big window doesn't exactly have a nice view, since the only thing it shows is the wall of the building opposite it, but at least the window makes up for the view in its size. Kurt says that Blaine can decorate the room in any way he wants to, make himself comfortable, and they can go out today or tomorrow to buy some better beddings. Kurt hasn't had any overnight guests yet, not after moving in.

Blaine simply nods. Again.

Kurt shows him the guest room bathroom, the kitchen, his own bedroom and the room that's still somewhat unfinished, the one he calls his office because it makes him feel old and professional. Rachel follows them, her hands behind her back and her eyes flitting between them, like she sees something that Kurt doesn't.

"Well, I guess that's all for now." They are standing in Kurt's kitchen, and Kurt swears that if Blaine nods one more time, he can't be held responsible for his reaction. Blaine's been subdued and overly professional ever since Wes left, and Kurt isn't sure how much longer he can take it. He wants back the Blaine who stood in his kitchen doorway and smiled kindly. He doesn't want this, he doesn't want Bodyguard-Blaine, as he calls him in his mind; he wants just Blaine.

Blaine doesn't nod, thankfully. Instead he says, "I need to call my brother to let him know that I'm staying. Will you be okay if..."

Kurt waves his hand, although his interest is piqued. (A brother?) "Yes, I'm sure Rachel can keep me safe while you make one phone call."

Rachel makes a mock salute. "I swear by my incredible talent."

Blaine smiles, a flash of just Blaine showing through, and retreats to the living room.

Kurt sighs and runs a hand through his hair the moment he thinks Blaine can't hear him anymore. "What the hell happened? He was so nice and alive and now he just..." Not finding suitable words he only gestures towards the living room. Rachel bites her lip. "I think... I think he likes you."

"Please, Rachel, like that's even a remotely possible explanation," Kurt snorts. "He's probably not even gay."

"But he is!" Rachel insists. "When he first came here he told me that he boxes and has taken a few self-defense courses, and when I asked him if he had any anger issues, he just said that he's gay and took up boxing because he was bullied so much."

"... Oh." Kurt stops for a moment, biting his lip, and then shakes his head to clear his mind. "Well, I still think he could stop being so... guarded. I liked him more when he was talking and smiling in my kitchen doorway."

"Kurt, he's your bodyguard," Rachel reminds him. "You can hardly expect him to be jumping on furniture and singing about his feelings like we're in glee club."

Kurt sighs dramatically. "I guess so."

He can hear Blaine's muffled voice coming from the living room, not well enough to make out what he's saying, but he can swear he hears him smiling. Then Blaine laughs, quick and carefree and soft, and oh, how much Kurt wishes he could hear Bodyguard-Blaine laugh like that in front of him.

Rachel sees the look on his face and pats his arm. "Just give yourself some time. Give him some time. This situation is new to both of you."

-

The phone rings several times before Cooper answers, and when he does he sounds out of breath, like he has run to the phone.

"Blainey! Finally!"

Blaine smiles, feeling more like himself immediately after hearing his brother's voice. "Hey Coop. How's LA?"

"Who cares about LA, tell me about New York! How's the job? Is the guy cute and your type?"

Blaine splutters. "C-Coop!" He lowers his voice. "He's my client – I'm supposed to protect him, not develop feelings for him!"

"Can't you do both? Do him?" Cooper shoots back, and Blaine swears he can almost hear him winking.

"Stop it!" Blaine tries not to sound so scandalized, but he can't help it, not with the ways his cheeks are probably burning already. "I don't even know if he's gay, and even if he was, there's no way I'm going to fall for him."

"B, he's a costume designer on Broadway. Of course he's gay."

"Jesus, Cooper, talk about stereotypes," Blaine hisses, looking over his shoulder even though Kurt couldn't have possibly heard what Cooper just said.

"No, you're right, I'm just joking. But I take it you're staying there?" Cooper says, and suddenly he sounds serious, doing his famous one eighty once again.

"Yeah." Blaine sighs, running his fingers through his curls. He doesn't wear gel everyday anymore, only on special occasions and when he wants to look more presentable. His first boyfriend had liked his short curls, and he sort of likes them too these days. They're good for nervous gestures. "I don't know for how long yet, but the... The anonymous fan is just a bit more than I thought, and so is this whole job."

"Is everything alright?" Cooper asks, his voice concerned, and god, Blaine misses his brother already. He hadn't even realized it before this phone call, but he's grown used to Cooper, to his apartment and his way of living in the months he lived with him.

"Yeah, I think everything's fine. I just don't know if I'm qualified enough for a job like this."

"Bullshit, Blainey. You have a good head and strong fists, of course you're qualified. Did you know that Mark was heartbroken when I told him that you were in New York and couldn't be his bodyguard to some gala next week? Heart. Broken. He says that you owe him a new suit if a crazy old lady grabs his sleeve."

Blaine laughs. "Thanks, Coop. But that's the thing. With this job I might not be just steering a person away from over-excited fans, I might actually... Cooper." His voice breaks a little, and he doesn't even know why, and he feels so confused and has no idea what he's doing. He sits down on the sofa, rubbing the back of his neck. "That anonymous fan sent a letter to Mr. Hummel's – to Kurt's – home address. To an address strangers aren't supposed to know."

Cooper is silent for a while. "That's... Ouch. Was the letter threatening or something?"

"No, not really, but just imagine it: someone goes through all that trouble to find out a costume designer's home address to send him an anonymous letter and just... Isn't that stalkerish? Scary? What if there's an actual crazy stalker out there and I'm the only thing protecting Kurt Hummel? He said he wanted me to be his bodyguard, but what if I'm not enough, Coop, what if I fa–"

"Hey hey hey," Cooper interrupts him. "Blaine, Blaine, calm down, okay? Everything's going to be fine."

Blaine laughs again, the sound bitter and quick this time. "You don’t know that."

"Yes, I do, you idiot." Cooper's voice is serious, severe even. "I know it because you're my little brother and you always make things better. I know you believe in that everything gets better stuff, but sometimes you need to make things better yourself. Remember that time I was going to audition for that Michael Bay movie and they cancelled my audition? You convinced me to make that audition tape anyway, and even though I didn't get the part I auditioned for, I did get the chance to play Guard Number 3, and it was the best role I have ever played."

Blaine gives a laugh, remembering how Cooper had called him, screaming like a mad man about shaking Michael Bay's hand. "What's that got to do with..."

"That's just one example of the numerous times you've made things better, either for someone else or for yourself. So just... Stop freaking out and blaming yourself for everything, take it one day at a time and let yourself help people. I know you like it, I know you're good at it, so – calm down and tell me if this Kurt Hummel is hot."

Cooper clicks this tongue suggestively, and Blaine laughs again, feeling like he hasn't laughed enough for days, even though it was just this morning that he was sitting in Wes and Sarah's kitchen without a care in the world. Apparently a lot can happen in a few hours.

"Well? Is he?" Cooper presses on.

"I think I'm going to hang up now," Blaine answers.

"Aw, come on, B, it's high time you got some!"

"Bye, Cooper..."

"No, no no no, don't, I'm sorry, I'm just joking." Cooper's voice turns worried again. "But are you okay? Seriously?"

Blaine stares at the ceiling for a moment. He can hear Kurt and Rachel talking in the kitchen, can feel the soft sofa cushions pressed against his back, and though he still feels anxious, he's willing to give this job a try. He just needs to detach himself, remember that this is just work, and stop... feeling too much. If he does that, everything will be fine.

"Yeah. I think I am," he answers truthfully. "Thanks. I miss you already, Coop."

"Stop it, you softie. We used to go for months without talking to each other. I'm sure we'll manage now."

"Yeah, but that was when I hated you."

"You could never hate me and you know it."

Blaine smiles. "True."