"I dont know why she engraved those words there," tells Kurt. "I assume she means me, or maybe something symbolic that I absolutely dont understand."

But Blaine knew. Blaine knew how significant those words are on that charm. It was what everybody was after, dangling on the boys wrist right there was what had the potential of shaping the entire world as he knew it. That bracelet, the one just hanging off the boys slender wrist was what he was sent here for. There was no question about it. Once those doves are separated, it would reveal the flash drive, the one that had encryptions of her discovery. It dawned on him then, right when he pieced two and two together.

He couldnt tell the boy the truth. Not now, consumed by his greed to succeed this mission. He couldnt tell the boy, not when his objective was there. He needed to get it, secretly, discreetly, far from the boys knowledge, and then what? Leave? He could cross that bridge when he got to it, but for now- he needed to get that bracelet because not only would it withdraw Lucius and whoever his accomplice is, but it could possibly save the boys life.

"Blaine?" nudges the boy, gaining his attention. He had been too distracted by what that bracelet would conclude- this mission, their relationship, his extraction..everything would be over the second he got his hands on that thing, but was that really what he wanted? Did he want this mission to end? He was always hungry to successfully complete a mission, that was in his competitive nature, a drive he couldnt stop, but in his gut..he didnt want this to end. He wanted to be with the boy.

"Its nice," tells Blaine, although nice was an understatement to describe just how important that bracelet was.

"Thank you," smiles the boy. "Blaine, I feel the same way. I wont bore you with the details of my sorry excuse of a life again, but since Ive met you- everything has gotten..better. You brought me out of a really dark place, gave me someone I needed most- someone who listened, someone who cared. Ive even gotten braver since I met you because you just-- are the embodiment of someone I want to be, strong, unapologetic but kind and thoughtful. You might think meeting me was the best thing that has ever happened to you, but trust me, its the other way around," tells Kurt. He leans forward and catches Blaines unguarded lips, taking him into yet another dimension where everything and everyone was as insignificant as dust. Even the bracelet didnt matter.

How was he suppose to tell the boy now? He knew he held some form of important role in the boys life but he never actually understood the magnitude of it, but now he knew. He was the boys saviour from everything that was bad in his life. He was the lighthouse for the boy, guarding him to a safe haven.

"I love you," whispers Kurt as he takes Blaine away into one of their most passionate, extraterrestrial kiss.

As Blaine jumps into his car and heads back towards the headquarters, he knew only one thing in his head. He knew of the decision he made and it was final. He was not going to tell anyone about it, not Carl, not Marcus, not the director- no one, because in the wake of what happened earlier, of his realization of how much he meant to the boy, he knew the resolution to all of this.

Carl is startled when Blaine wakes him up from his nap on the computer desk. His cheeks have the shape of the keyboards temporarily tattooed on his skin. He looks in a daze, confused and taking in the sight around him before he realized who had been woken him up from a very deep slumber. "I havent slept in like- three days. Thank you so fucking much for waking me up," groans the man rather irritably.

"I found the discovery," tells Blaine, and this jolts Carl as if he had downed a gallon of caffeine.

"You have? Did you get it?" excitedly ask the man, his voice reaching a new height. Clearly he wants to go back to where the establishment was more professional, where he could breathe in the thick smell of urine in New York City because honestly, once youve lived in the city, suburbia cannot suffice for anything.

"No, I havent gotten it yet, but I have found it," explains Blaine. "Its a charm on the boys bracelet. I think I can get it."

"Well, thats terrific news!" shrieks Carl. "You can get it, we can get the hell out of here and leave it all to the director to call the next shots, youll have yet another successful mission in your record and we can get on with our lives!"

Blaine did not understand what life Carl was talking about. A life of secret missions and murders and conspiracies and terrorism? Blaine wondered how he ever felt a sense of admiration, an attraction for this life because at this very second, he only saw his life to be an obstacle to being with someone he really wanted to be with. After all, that was what the Agency was about- hijacking peoples personal lives.

"How soon can you get it, because Im missing me some nice Greys Papayas," babbles Carl. He was clearly envisioning himself back at the big apple where he not only thrived, but was seen as an important person in the agency even though the field agents picked on him constantly because of his Harry Potter glasses.

"Im not sure, but Ill have to get it when the boy is asleep or something. When he is unconscious," explains Blaine, which should he of obvious information to Carl. He sighs loudly because he knew it wouldnt be as soon as he would have wanted, but Blaine couldnt care less.

"Okay then. Get is as soon as you can. We have seven days before extraction," tells Carl in which Blaine nods and retreats to the bedroom, but not before walking pass Marcus, the under cover janitor at McKinley high who glances at him with vacant eyes before he turns his attention back to a book he was reading. Had the man really kept his words to himself? He very well should because it could jeopardize his own plans right now- the only one he has left.

He would tell no sole of the plot he had device himself, a plot that was maybe irrational but right now, in this moment where his feeling screamed louder than anything else, he could see it with clarity. He would retrieve the discovery, hand it over to the hands of the agency, and when everything is settled and no harm is left dangling over the boy, he would leave the life he once chose for himself. He would leave behind his life as a CIA operative, because he knew now, more so than ever before, that how he felt for the boy trumps this life of never ending schemes and mission. The boy was his silver lining.

And when this is all over, when he emerges from this dark storm, free from the tethers of the agency, he would only then mutter those words, those three simple words without guilt, without pretence, with liberation and with full sincerity.

----------

The hype of senior prom resembles quite closely to the hype of the Academy Awards. This night, as legendary as it is, holds a much more profounder symbol to it. It marked the end of a final term, it marked just how close they were to graduation.

It marked an ending to something that had been bitter-sweet.

They were just about three days away from the big day, and in the past, Kurt never really looked forward to this time of the year because it always reminded him of how alone he was, but this time- he jumped into the bandwagon. He too could feel the excitement practically fleeting around the school, admired the prom campaign posters which, in the past, he would tiredly roll his eyes at but this time almost applauded the girls for putting in so much effort to campaign themselves for Prom Queen- apparently the highest form of achievement for any teenage girl.

Kurt knew of course why he felt different this time round. It was because of Blaine- a new name hes been loving to speak. He just loved the way the name rolled down his tongue, the motion of his lips when he watched himself through the mirror, repeating that name like a mantra. He also loved calling the boy by that name because it made him feel special, which he very well was to the boy. Point is, this time Kurt could actually feel the excitement of prom because he was going- with a date. Music, dancing, no doubt romantic moments under twinkly lights- what could be better? There was virtually nothing that could ruin a night that seemed so foolproof in his head.

He was still a little surprised by the boys sudden appearance at his home just a few days ago. He came with the agenda of professing something off this chest and though he never actually said those three words Kurt had been waiting to hear, it was more than enough to take his heart to the moon. He wasnt going to just sit around waiting for the boy to say it as if it would dictate their relationship because it was not relevant. He knew he meant a great deal to the boy, and that was more than enough for him.

"Kurt, there you are," says a familiar voice. Kurt spins around and had almost not recognized the boy that was striding towards him. He still had the same whiny tone to his voice, but he looked slicked. He wore a simply light blue shirt, unbuttoned at the top, with fitting jeans that wrapped around toned legs because Blaine had trained him well enough to be well physiqued, and his hair- trimmed, textured and styled to perfection compliments of Kurt.

"Jacob, hey," greets Kurt, still a little dazed by how good the boy looked with just a few tweaks here and there. "Youre looking good."

"Well, you and Lance did this. I only have you guys to thank," tells the boy, doing a little proud spin. "I came to ask if you think flowers were a little too predictable in asking a girl to prom."

"Flowers are okay, but if you wanted to wow her, get a strong quartet. That would nail it," tells Kurt because even though Blaines prom proposal was simplistic yet so romantic, he always dreams of a strong quarter. Maybe marriage?

"I think my budget is more one stalk of a rose," shrugs Jacob. "But Lance is helping me ask Lauren, and seeing as how hes pretty much ridiculous and annoyingly good at everything, I have faith."

Even Kurt was a little surprised when Jacob had announced who he wanted to take to prom. Lauren Zizes was not exactly hideous, but she definitely had her own style at things. She is the caption of the wrestling team and has a history of being incredibly rude and straight forward. Definitely not a match he would have thought for someone so fragile as Jacob, but love is blind. Blaine was irritatingly good at a lot of things, Kurt couldnt lie, but that only fed his already full stomach of love for the boy.

"I hope to have a relationship like yours one day," tells Jacob.

"What do you mean like mine?" ask Kurt because it was an abstract idea of anyone wanting anything of their lives to resemble his. His life wasnt exactly sitting on thrones royalty.

"You and Lance balance each other so well. I see the way you look at him, and how he looks at you and I just wish somebody will look at me like that some day," tells Jacob. Arent we all the same? Secretly wishing somebody looked at us with love and care?

"Well Im sure youll find somebody someday," tells Kurt. The boy looked so handsome now it was flattering to just be in this proximity but of course Kurt knew the boy that lived behind these smoke and mirrors; an outcast with a massive brain.

"Oh look girls, its the queen with a penis!" bellows Quinn as she and her look-alike minions fall into a variation of laughter. He was really not in the mood to deal with a self-indulgent bitch like Quinn. He was far too content with his life to be around people who threaten to put a damper on him.

"Do something about your roots, Quinn. Now we all know youre not actually blond," stabs Kurt in which the girl grows crimson, practically red under these lights. Her blue eyes glance over to Jacob, treaded eyebrows raise and practically emitting a small growl akin to when animals come across a very delicious looking prey.

"And who are you?" ask the girl, intentionally fluttering her eye lashes. She needed to tone down the mascara by a notch-- and a half. Jacob looks at her as if she was crazy, which in actuality, she is. Only, hers was the untraditional kind of crazy.

"Its Jacob," tells the boy.

"Nice to meet you, Jacob. Im-"

"Quinn, its JBI," interjects Kurt because as much as he liked to see Quinn make a fool of herself, or as happy as it made him to see the look on Jacobs face for the first time being an interest to the female species- judging of course but the google eyes of the other cheerleader, Kurt knew Jacob deserved better than miss shallow ostentatious witch over here. Quinn looks absolutely baffled as she dismantles the new clothes, the contact lenses, the great pair of jeans and the tamed hair to discover it was Jacob Ben Israel after all.

"What the- what happened to you? Did you get a full body transplant or something," stupidly ask Quinn. Her manicured fingernails stretches to poke Jacob in his stomach before she retracts upon the slightest contact, letting out a loud shrill that catches the attention of the heavy stream of students in the hallway. "You have abs?"

"Been working out," nonchalantly shrugs Jacob as Kurt smiles to himself because it was not in Jacobs nature to be cool, calm and collected in the vicinity of pretty girls. This was Blaines doing no doubt, teaching Jacob on just how to be charming. The boy possessed that of course.

"I can see that. Wow, Jacob, you look-- decent. Datable even," tells Quinn, her eyes taking in the new form of man that stood in front of her. She was the embodiment of a 21st century kid- an obsession of getting everything that is new on the racks. It was pathetic, really.

"Thanks, I guess," says Jacob and this time practically assuring Kurt that this was all Blaines doing. The Jacob who once wore baggy chinos would propose to Quinn right there and then for saying how he was datable. Only Blaine knew how casual disregard could play so well to your allure.

"So, listen..prom is coming up and all," tries the girl but much to the entire humanitys surprise, Jacob simply snickers. "Whats so funny? I thought maybe we could go together. Thats what youve always wanted, right? Im a selfless person."

Was this how she caught guys in her fishing net? With the tease of arching her back, accentuating her non-existent perky ass, eyes blinking in a rapid motion. Any straight guy would be powerless against this Quinn Fabray speciality. Well, straight guys who didnt have Blaine as their flirting mentor.

"Thanks, Quinn, but I have someone else in mind," tells Jacob. He wondered if Blaine was actually programmed in the boys brain, guiding him and teaching Jacob the ropes of casual disregard because Jacob was incapable of staying cool- period. Quinn looks absolutely horrified, even a few of her carbon copies lets out a scoff at the complete and utter rejection. Most people should know that rejection and Quinn do not mesh well together. Quinn was the type of girl who get any guy she wanted.

The girl says nothing else as she tears her eyes away from the revamped version of Jacob and storms off, her slick pony tail swinging from left to right, steam practically blowing out of her ears. Yup, she is devastated before recognition. It was fun to be there when the mighty fell.

"You can unravel," tells Kurt to Jacob, and the boy releases a long, deep sigh of relief.

"That was hard," says the boy."Quinn Fabray just asked me to prom..and I turned her down."

"Should add that to your top five moments in your life," jokes Kurt. "Howd you do it? Stay so-- calm?"

"I just kept what Lance said replaying in my head- people want what they cant have," tells Jacob. "When they know that something so alluring, so attractive, so desirable is not within their reach, it only fuels their motivation to seize it. He says it makes people do crazy, sometimes even irrational things."

Was the boy just so wise for his age or was he, or did he ever experience such a thing? If those words were really from Blaines own mouth, it was so on point and in detail as if he has encountered the same feeling only..what was it? Has Kurt not yet fully uncovered this enigmatic, jigsaw puzzle boy? He was after all more than meets the eye, a complex individual. Maybe Kurt had more to learn than what he thought was sufficient information.

"Well, okay I guess," tells Kurt, too distracted by his own thoughts. Bidding the boy goodbye, Kurt makes his way to his next period- AP chemistry. As he enters the classroom, a wide smile spreads across his face when he sees the boy, Blaine, already in their usual bench, preoccupied with writing something.

"Hi Blaine," casually greets Kurt as he steps in. The boy is startled and quickly drags away whatever was on his desk, dumping it into his bag. Whatever it was, it clearly wasnt something the boy had wanted Kurt to see and even though the curiosity inside of him is killing him, he told himself not to be those typical clingy, always questioning type of partners. Whatever the boy didnt want him to see, he trust it was because of his own good.

"Hey baby," greets Blaine. It was a norm now, actually. Blaine had uttered that very endearing term a few days ago and although it should be patronizing and demeaning, it was just as flattering. "Hows your day going?"

"I just saw one of your crafts," tells Kurt, a playful smile on his face. "Jacob just shot Quinn down when she asked him to prom. Yes, she did. It was hilarious."

"He did? Always thought that boy had it in him to he a heart breaker, not that I condone that or anything. Its just nice to see the rejected become the rejector every now and then," shrugs the boy. "You did a pretty amazing job with his clothes, too. A good trade from his ugly, gigantic polo tees."

"I agree," tells Kurt. The shopping spree with those four boys was so tedious but, seeing as Kurt had a knack for style, it gave him great pleasure to dress up people who really needed it. It was amazing the stylish, affordable things you can find if you look hard enough in a thrift store. "So, are you excited for prom?"

A gleam befalls upon the boys naturally bright hazel optics. A sense of hopefulness settles in them and though all he does is pull a smile, Kurt knew that whatever he must be thinking or feeling must be something definitely positive.

"I am," smiles the boy. He slides his hand over Kurts, entwining their fingers together. "Im excited to finally- be with you."

Kurt did not quite understand the boy, though he assumed the boy meant to be publicly showing affection to each other, with the principals sort-of blessing, with them being dates to each other. Indeed, it was a night that dictated their relationship, the epitome of it all so you will. Kurt too was excited. He was excited to twirl around the dance floor in a tux he was already working on, to sip on the punch that everybody claims Puckermans always spikes and to just-- feel like an ordinary, teenager in love. He had never succumbed to the normal activities of a teenager, so prom was definitely his excuse.

"I hope youll be wearing something snazzy, because the outfit Im working on is to die for," tells Kurt, relishing and allowing himself to show his excitement.

"I know you will," says the boy. "You know, graduation entails next."

Here it was. The biggest elephant in the room they had tiptoeing around. The discussion of their future. Whether they were going to keep the bliss going through long distance maybe, or did this dream train finally has come to its last station. Was Kurt delusional to believe that good things in his life could go on forever? He should have learned that even the greatest of people met their demise.

"There is something I need to tell you," says the boy. "On prom night itself."

"Why not now?" frowns Kurt, his fear suddenly coursing through his veins. Was it something he should he anxious about? His stomach was practically hanging out of his butt. It must have registered in his face, and his quavering voice because the boy lets out a laugh and leans in, catching Kurt lips with his own.

"Dont worry, baby. Itll be good news. At least..I hope it will be," says the boy. Maybe whatever the boy wanted to tell was subjective, and even though he found it to be good news, Kurt would have think otherwise. Whatever it was, nerve-wrecking was the best description. He had never been too well with anticipating whether something is good or bad but the assuring smile on the boys face puts him at least a little at ease.

"I hope so," tells Kurt, because for right now, he had the worst possibilities in mind.

-----------

Blaine still wasnt sure how he was going to snatch that bracelet off the boys slender hand. He could of course tranquillize the boy, putting him into a state of unconsciousness and stealing the bracelet, but that would be hard to explain should the boy notice the absence on his wrist. Its funny how it sounded so easy on his head- get the bracelet and get our, not from the boys life, but the agency. That was his plan, and soon he would let the boy know-- everything. The whole ten yards.

And he planned to do so on prom night, when it all comes to a close. That was the night he chose, maybe because it was symbolic or maybe it was because the mission deadline is on that day itself. He still wasnt sure how was he going to tender his resignation from the agency, or whether or not the director would accept it. He barely remembered the contract that he signed years ago, but there definitely was something about retiring he couldnt actually recall.

Carl and the other minor agents are too busy today because apparently there was a small breach in the system. Blaine didnt know what was going on though. When he tried to ask, Carl snapped at him and told him to concentrate on the mission but Blaine reckon it must be something of magnitude otherwise they wouldnt be so preoccupied on their computers since morning. Maybe hell let everything settle into place before he asked again. He also wasnt sure if he should tell Carl of his decision to quit, not that the man actually had the right to know anything. Things like these should be dealt with straight with the director and everybody is legally restricted from private information. Then again, Carl, as aggravating as he could be, was still one of Blaines best mates in the agency. He secretly wished Sebastian was here, even though theyve always shared a love-hate relationship, he always thought of Sebastian as a brother.

After what felt like hours, Carl finally steps into the sanctuary of the bed room and settles onto a bed, letting out a deep and tired sigh. "Apparently somebody hacked into our confidential mission files."

Blaine did not know much about that. He knew of course that agents in the field needed to submit a daily report on the progression to the director. All files were confidential, in definitely. It was only for the eyes of the director. "Did you find out who? Or what information they were looking to retrieve?"

"Not a clue," dejectedly tells Carl. It was in the mans nature to not fail. He had a pretty decent track record for always coordinating successful missions. "They breached the fire and security walls, which is insane considering only people from the inside can do that."

"It was somebody from the inside?" ask Blaine, shocked.

"We dont know that yet, but generally the walls are in penetrable to the public because there are a lot of security codes only existing in the agency. Maybe whoever who did it was a computer whiz or something. Tucking Steven Hawkins shit," tells Carl. It was definitely peculiar. Not many can penetrate firewalls done by Carl himself. He practically lived and breathed computer software and all the other things that had to do with it.

"Do you think its Lucius accomplice?" ask Blaine because it was the clear suspect. Who else was a threat to this mission besides Lucius and his mysterious handy man.

"Probably. I still dont get what they want. They already know where the Hummels live evident from that prank call, and they know theyre being watched. What else is there to compile?" ask Carl, though it was more a question he was asking himself. Carl did come across as a person who questions to himself.

"Maybe- I dont know? Maybe theres something we missed. Either way it sounds like a plan of attack. We should be vigilant just in case," warns Blaine because in his protective nature, and his care for the boy, he would not let anyone hurt him.

"Vigilant, yeah. We needed the objective soon, Blaine. How soon do you think you can get it?" ask Carl. He looks genuinely exhausted.

"Ill try to get it as soon as I can but the bracelet pretty tricky to retrieve. The boy wears it everywhere he goes," tells Blaine. He never actually noticed the metallic chain dangling on the boys wrist, but now knowing that that is his mission, it was all he saw.

"This mission is different for you, isnt it?" ask Carl. The pit of Blaines stomach practically changed its molecules state. Had the man found out? Had Marcus let the office know of what he was doing?
His secret plans? For that short second, he could see everything go into a turmoil. "Being a teenager and all."

Blaine lets out of sigh of relief. He was so subconsciously scared that the agency would find out about everything before his plans succeeded now every little thing shook his wits. "I guess so," shrugs Blaine.

"I mean, I read your record that you were recruited at a pretty young age," tells Carl. "I know that CIA training is not the most orthodox thing in the world. How was it like?"

"What was what like?" ask Blaine, looking at the man whom just seems a little hesitant to proceed. Maybe he thought it was a touchy subject to talk about, but most of the operatives dont talk much about their past because the people who are recruited dont usually like to revisit their past lives.

"How was it like- leaving behind your life, for this," ask Carl. "I mean, joining the CIA was an easy decision for me because I dont really have anyone I have to leave behind. Im sorry if Im prying or anything, Im just curious."

"Nah, its fine," wavers Blaine because even though he, much like everyone else, hated to reminisce on what he left behind, he knew Carl was only trying to make conversation and seeing as how he was going to leave his post anyway, why not just share it with the man. "It was difficult, obviously- having to choose between a normal childhood and undertaking the a position in the CIA, but maybe I was obsessed with being a spy in the past. I watched all the Bond movies, you know. But yeah, it was difficult."

"Was?" frowns Carl. "Dont you like it anymore?"

Carl was attentive. Blaine forgot. He had to be, given his profession, which explains why he was able to pick up the slightest hint of something suspicious. It matter not what he said next because he already planted that vague notion in the mans head. Now hes going to be thinking about it no matter how well Blaine convinced him it was just a misuse of vocabulary.

"You know the toll this job can get in our lives," points out Blaine. Maybe if he played a more general card, it would put the man at ease. "I guess going into this mission, it sort of opened my eyes to just how much I missed out on, being a teenager, being in a club, studying, the stress of college applications, having a tight knit great group of friends, falling for someone-"

"Falling for someone?" frowns Carl. His eyes are intent on Blaines face, no doubt trying to catch every hint of discomfort to reassure his no doubt assumptions.

"Like-- a teenage dream," shrugs Blaine.

"Thats ridiculous. Besides, theres no point in dwelling over a life that you missed out on. CIA is your past, present and future the second they recruited you," tells Carl. He gives a gentle pat on Blaines shoulder before he exits the room, in his wake, leaving Blaine with an even more gut wrenching feeling.

What the man knew not was that soon, Blaine would be walking out of these doors, into the real world where he wouldnt have to comply with the rules and regulations of the agency. He would be free to pursue his guilty pleasures, free to travel, see the world from the eyes of the commoners and most importantly, free to love. Unconditionally, and irrevocably.

---------

The school is practically intoxicated in excitement. Everybody is buzzing, discussing their dresses, their dates, accessories for the girls, prices of hotel rooms for the guys. It was an uplifting spirit Kurt joined in on too. Tomorrow, when the sun sets, he would be entering the school compound, dressed in his best, with Blaine in his arms-- his teenage dream.

"I wonder how Artie and I are going to dance," ask Tina in yet her string of self-involved questions. "I mean, I could sit on his lap and he can wheel us around?"

"Or you can just like dance normally, Tina," says girl, secretly rolling his eyes because a person could only tolerate so much of Tina. She was a glass shattering illusion to the festivities of this school.

"Are you and Lance-- getting a hotel room?" ask Tina and Kurt practically choked on the apple slices he was munching on. What a breach of privacy. A persons sexual life should never be an auctioned topic for discussion. "What! I just was curious."

"Well, dont be," tells Kurt. He wasnt sure either. Was he going to jump the bandwagon like everyone else, rent a hotel for him and Blaine. It wasnt as if he hadnt had sex with Blaine. He did, once. And it was mind blowing. "Maybe I will, but to be honest I dont really care about that."

"Its prom tradition, hello!" snaps Tina. Clearly she was, much like everyone else, drunk with of mediocrity.

"Its a ritual. Rituals change," tells Kurt. It wasnt as if he didnt want to have sex with Blaine because only god knows how hungry his carnal was for the boy to enter him again, but what he and Blaine shared was more profound than just-- sex in a hotel after prom. It just felt very, typical, and he did not want that sort of relationship. He wanted something of more original substance.

"Well, if you say so. Artie tells me that he can still perform sexually," tells Tina and Kurt, yet again, spits out his apple dip. "He asked me if wanted to rent a hotel together and I said yeah."

"You said yeah? Just like that?" says Kurt. They way those words rolled down her tongue sounded so casual, as if she was a hooker and Artie was just one of her regular clients. "Dont you want your first time to be special? Memorable? And not with someone youre not going to prom with out of pity?"

"All I care right now is to win prom queen, hopefully, and get into Brown," tells Tina, wavering Kurt off in which he knew she didnt care that much. They were such parallel difference. As much as Kurt refused to admit it, not even to himself, he was a hopeless romantic, secretly still wishing for a Mister Big to whisk him off to Paris, of have Josh Cusack hold a boom box outside his window. He was a hopelessly romantic, but wanting an originality to his relationship with Lance. It was a hassle, really.

In that moment, Marley obstacles their path. She clearly has something to say but is nervous, clutching her books to her chest as if they were an armour or something. "I want to apologize."

"Come again?" says Kurt, taking a step closer not to be sarcastically obnoxious but he really didnt hear the girl. The students in the hallway were loudly talking about their prom plans they were like a colony of bees with deafening buzz.

"I want to apologize," repeats he girl, face riddled win defeat and humiliation. "It wasnt cool of me to diss your relationship just because I was jealous of you and Lance. Hes gay, after all. I never stood a chance even if he wasnt with you, but point is- Im sorry, and Im happy you found someone. You were also right. I was being greedy, and I do like Ryder, but I sort of had hoped for Lance but I get it now. Ryder is amazing, and I guess were both going to prom with amazing guys."

It wasnt necessarily the apology Kurt would have scripted for the girl. He imagined self-loathed, complete and utter regret an desperate for his forgiveness, but Kurt was not that writer for this little soap opera he called life, and so the girls little apology would have so suffice for his nature of always wanting more himself.

"Thats okay, Marley. I mean, we all do crazy things for love, right," shrugs Kurt. It was true. It wasnt as if he has done crazy or anything, but if he had to take a bullet for the boy, a part of him knew he would. That was, after all, the ultimate confession of love.

"I guess youre right," shrugs the girl, long and heavy raven hair bouncing slightly at the gesture. "So, can we go back to being friends, please? Prom is tomorrow and Im lost with you, and Tina of course."

"Yay! Besties again!" shrieks Tina as she wraps both Kurt and Marley into a hug. It was definitely a first on his life, to have two best girlfriends-- like the fast of Unfabulous or something, and although it did felt a little weird, it felt good just the same. He could see it then, graduation. Walking across the stage, accepting his high school Diploma with a hot sweet boyfriend cheering him on, graduating too, a small group of misfit friends- this was the life he always secretly wanted, and it felt amazing. "Now that were all cool again, I propose a pre-prom facial? We need to look absolutely breathtaking."

"Im in," shrugs Marley, and since Kurt knew Blaine was going to be with Jacob and the other three boys, working out, why not? Pampering himself was no crime. It was, after all, going to be one hell of a memorable night.

The final school bell finally goes off, and given the big event of tomorrow night, the school had allowed the students a day off, which meant tomorrow they only had to attend prom. The bell practically fuelled everybodys already to-the-brim excitement as everyone pours out, but Kurt waited outside the classroom, practically a dust speck in the flow of students until he catches sight of Blaine and grabs the boy by his arm, startling him momentarily before his face illuminates in a beautiful grin.

"Hello you," greets the boy. "I hate AP Math. I dont see anywhere close to you. Im glad its over."

Kurt says nothing in response but instead drags the boy along with him, to the bathroom on the third floor where nobody every goes, except maybe stoner Brent, a boy known for being high 24/7 and yet the teachers do nothing about. Seriously, it was as if he sprayed marijuana cologne on him before he comes to school. Blaine is surprised when Kurt locks the door behind them, and throws himself to the boy, kissing him and claiming him as his own.

"Whoa," says the boy, parting slightly. "This is unexpected."

"Do you want to stop?" ask Kurt, his insecurity practically on display but who cares. He stopped worrying about how vulnerable he was to the boy long ago because he knew he feared nothing when with the boy.

"Since when do I ever want to stop kissing you?" sardonically ask the boy. "What brought this on?"

"I just thought- prom is tomorrow, and I just-- am excited and I guess Im a little-- to excited if you know what I mean," tells Kurt, his cheeks burning crimson. He never really was the promiscuous, kinky person he was trying to be right now, but hed been wanting to kiss the boy since morning.

"I do know what you mean," smirks the boy. "But here?

"Well, I figured since prom is tomorrow, and graduation being not that far, Ive always wanted to-- have sex in a school bathroom," says Kurt because it truly was one of his secret desires. The whole thing was just exhilarating, to do it where you know for a fact is forbidden-- not that it has ever stopped the other students before. Santana, especially.

Of course, this wasnt a thought that just popped out in his head. It went back to what Tina said about renting a hotel for prom night. He didnt want to do that. It was too traditional, too ordinary and this relationship, the one he shared with the boy was extraterrestrial. Bathroom sex is definitely repulsive. The very thought was taboo, but in this moment- his carnal took the drivers seat of his mind.

"Bathroom sex?" says the boy, eyebrow raising. He seems to debate this to himself, contemplating whether it was a good idea before he glances over to the door, checking the lock, before his eyes drops an octave of colours and he cuts Kurts breath short by claiming his lips.

The boys touch was always so magical. It was the way his fingers danced on his body, how his hand always found a firm grasp on something, how his hands travelled along with so much experience, yet so much tenderness. It was as if he was treating a seed, gentle and patient. His breath was hot against Kurts neck, lips sheltering him with warmth, teeth sucking slightly on the bare flesh, finger skimming down Kurts spine. He knew he wanted this.

His whole life, he played everything by the book- studied really hard, stayed at home a lot, did not mix around with bad influence, he was always the poster, ideal child but not today. Today, he wanted to rebel, to shed away his wholesome coat not for the boy, but because prom will mark the end of something- end of a chapter, and this was him trying to ease into a new chapter of his life. A chapter that was exciting, thrilling, spontaneous, coquettish. A chapter far from himself.

Kurt hooks his fingers in the waistband of the boys jeans and rips it downwards, exposing his brief boxers before he slides the boys t-shirt slickly off his toned body. The sight of the boy shirtless was still very much appealing to Kurt. He could stare at it all day- apart from everything else.

"We could do this tomorrow, you know," says the boy, holding Kurts face in place, brown eyes to blue. "Im not particularly objecting taking you in this bathroom right now, but how about tomorrow?"

There was something the boy wasnt telling him. Kurt couldnt point out exactly what, but he sees it in the boys eyes- dark, mysterious, in such a way that made him curious, but he trusted the boy. Besides, he probably wanted to jump the bandwagon like everyone else- to do it on prom night, and though Kurt wanted it right now, in this bathroom, he realized that it was as cheesy as it could get. It stoop to Puckerman and Santanas level, and that was not how deep he wanted to sink. The idea did seem appealing to him just earlier, a secluded bathroom, somewhere sex is restricted based on rules and regulations. It was exhilarating to be breaking the rules, but it felt even more exhilarating being with the boy.

"Okay," says Kurt, pulling the boy towards him, their foreheads flushed together, breath sweet and intoxicating. "Tomorrow."

"Thank you," says the boy, leaning forward to steal one innocent, gentle kiss. Even though passion was exciting, this tenderness was just as exciting. "I promise, tomorrow-- everything will come into place.

----------

Blaine had always been good at stealing something of someone without them even noticing, which was why it was easy for him to unclipped the boys bracelet and slide if off of his wrist, especially when they were in a heat of passion in that bathroom at school. He felt horrible, but he needed to do it- this was the piece of the puzzle, the thing that brought him here in the first place. Now he held it in his hands- his exit. He wondered how long would the boy realize until it was gone, but he would place it back of course. All he needed to do was to move whatever files Elizabeth had in this little hard drive into another storage device, and give it back to the boy. It was a simple step, and once he hands the objective to Carl, it would be the end of the mission and they would be extracted, but Blaine needed more time.

This was how he planned tomorrow to go- He would surrender the discovery over, and ask Carl to at least schedule their extraction to be later in the night, where it would be quiet and deserted and they could make a clean getaway before any of the neighbours realize that there had been twenty over agents piled inside the house, but before any of this- he would tell the boy..everything. At prom..after prom. He would confess to the boy, of all the ten yards before he went back to New York, tender his resignation and be free...to be with the boy. That was his plan, now all he had to hope for was that everything ran smoothly.

In that instant, there was a quiet tap on the door. Blaine and Carl glance at each other in surprise. The only time that door would knock was when one of the agents ordered pizza, or when a salesman appeared but none of which could be possible. Sales people dont go knocking on peoples houses at this hour, and nobody had ordered pizza. When they did, it would usually be a mass over of about twenty over pizzas.

"Grab a gun," tells Blaine. He strides towards the boy, cursing the agency for not putting a little peep hole for their convenience, before he pulls it open, fist at the ready, but drops it instantly to find a very unexpected person standing on the front porch, wearing a smile. "Sebastian?"

"Hey," greets the man dressed in a dark t-shirt underneath a leather jacket, with denim jeans wrapping around his long legs.

"What the hell are you doing here," ask Blaine as he pulls the man in, slamming the door shut because having the door open felt too vulnerable for his liking. Sebastian scans the room, taking in the surroundings before he turns to smile at Blaine again.

"Ive almost forgotten how stakeouts look like," says the man. "The director sent me."

"I received no such news," tells Carl, which definitely made everything even more peculiar considering the director would never send a fellow agent to someone elses mission without informing the group.

"Thats because he sent me here to let you guys know the extraction is tomorrow. He wanted me to check on the circumstance, whether you guys should be allowed more time, or should he extract you guys when the sun comes up," tells Sebastian. He flows through his words.

"Thats-- odd," tells Carl, a deep frown line on his forehead.

"Go figure, four eyes," tells Sebastian. He always mocks Carl, but it was no surprised considering Carl is always the joke of the agency- young fellow, with big round spectacles. It was impossible not to make fun of him every now and then. "So, extension or extraction?"

"We havent retrieved the objective yet," tells Carl, but Blaine has. It was sitting in his pocket right now, but did he want to do that...surrender so quickly? If he did, there was no doubt in his mind that they would be extracted right this second. He needed time-- time to tell the boy the truth, but if he didnt surrender, either way they would be extracted. He needed to do something, say something to buy them more time.

"I can get it," tells Blaine, stepping forward. "I can get it by tomorrow."

"You can?" frowns Carl. "Weve been here for weeks, and suddenly youre so sure you can get it?"

"Now, now, rugrat, Im sure Blaine knows what hes doing," says Sebastian, in which Carl mutters an obscenity under his breath. "How are you sure you can get it, Blaine?"

"Its prom night at the school, and I know the subject will be there, wearing the bracelet. I can use my tranquillizer. Put him unconscious and get it," tells Blaine.

"Its a bracelet..on the boys wrist?" ask Sebastian.

"Yes," tells Blaine.

Sebastian takes a second to contemplate this, placing his chin in between his fingers as he hums before coming to a decision. He wondered why the director had place Sebastian with this job considering Sebastian wasnt that qualified for it-- and since when did agents needed to come down for this intention solely? What happened to video conference with the director, the most ordinary way. Maybe the director knew somebody outside the tight knit CIA family could access the database, therefore he felt it wasnt safe? Still peculiar.

"Okay then," tells Sebastian. "Extension it is. Ill tell the director."

"I can do that-" tries Carl, but Sebastian interjects.

"In case you havent noticed, its midnight, which means your deadline is up which means all communications you have with the headquaters is cut. Basic protocol. Only I had a direct lineto director Johnson, so if you excuse, pubescent, I think Ill let him know myself," tells Sebastian, and it was true. This was to protect the CIA from being exposed any more than it already has been. Any communications made through land wire poses a threat to the agency, so they try to keep it as minimized as possible, which meant all communications to the head agency will be cut the second the deadline is up. Sebastian excuses himself to the other room to make the call.

"That was-- sudden," tells Carl.

"Its Sebastian, relax," tells Blaine. Hed been friends with Sebastian since forever. It was insane not to trust him. Besides, even though he never really was as good an agent as Blaine was, he was still one of the agencys youngest and brightest.

"I never really liked that guy," tells Carl, rolling his eyes at the room Sebastian was in.

"Yeah, but you hate him because he makes you feel small," laughs Blaine.

As Blaine enters the room, Sebastian slides his phone back into his back pocket. It had been awhile since he saw Sebastian. The last was of course before this mission began, but even before that when Blaine had been assigned to trace a bomb threat made to the president, he had very little interaction with Sebastian. At CIA training, they were practically joined at the hip having been the two youngest. Sebastian was a little four years older than Blaine. Sebastian has never said it before, but Blaine knew the man was always a little envious of him and his endeavours, but truthfully most of the agents were.

"You have Carl all riled up," tells Blaine.

"That little child? Who cares. He should know the basic operation protocol. You know it, right?" ask Sebastian as he falls onto one of the single sofas, heaving a tired sigh.

"Of course I do," says Blaine, taking the place opposite from Sebastian. He couldnt help but to notice the heavy bags under the mans eyes, as if he hadnt been asleep for a long time. There was something different about his mannerisms too, a little fidgety.

"So, how have you been? Hows the mission been?" ask Sebastian.

"Ive well, the mission is a little behind schedule, obviously, but dont worry. I know for a fact that I can retrieve the discovery by tomorrow. Tell the director that," says Blaine, doing his best to convince Sebastian, even though the thing that everybody is after right now is sitting right in his pocket.

"Youve never been behind schedule before," tells Sebastian, pointing out something Blaine almost did not realize. "Youve always been at the top of the game, sometimes completing a mission two weeks before the extraction date. What was so difficult about this one?"

Blaine hesitates to tell. He did once told himself that he wished Sebastian was here because despite their rather complicated, competitive friendship, Sebastian was someone Blaine trusted in the agency, but did that mean he could trust the man with a secret to heavy as this one? He didnt know for sure. Besides, it wasnt as if Sebastian would do anything to jeopardize his plans. They were two of the same people after all, and this mission was coming to an end anyway. Why not? Blaine glances out of the room, where Carl is on his computer again- shocker!- before he reaches for the door and closes it gently. Sebastian frowns.

"I need to tell you something," says Blaine, mustering up his bravery, making sure hes breathing was stagnant. "I did something- bad."

"Holy shit. What?" ask the man, eyes wide and intent, waiting for Blaines next words like a child waiting for the next part of an exciting bed time story.

"I..got attached..to the subject," tells Blaine, and Sebastians eyes widen even more. "And Ive also..made a decision that might or might not be wise."

"Suddenly youre way more interesting to me," says Sebastian. "What decision are you talking about?"

Blaine inhales deeply again. This is it- this will be when we would find out whether it really was a good decision, or a decision he made out of his feelings for the boy. Either way, he wouldnt let Sebastian change his mind should the man try to. He was content, despite how scary it may be to voice the words out.

"Ive decided to resign- from the CIA," tells Blaine and watches Sebastian face grow even more taken aback by this facet of information.

"You-- want to resign?" ask Sebastian, though his tone did not necessary imply that he thought Blaine was crazy. "You want to resign because youve fallen for the subject?"

"Yes," tells Blaine, laying it out on the line. "Before you say Im crazy-- I thought this through-"

"I dont think youre crazy," interrupts Sebastian, much to Blaines surprise. He knew Sebastians passion and drive for being a CIA operative, his obsession with being a spy so to hear these words from someone with that description was definitely startling.

"You dont? How come?" ask Blaine.

"Well, I guess its because I understand how you might feel? We both were recruited at such a young age so we never really got to experience-- a normal life before. Its bound to happen, right? We go along with this ride until we realize..it never really was what we wanted," tells Sebastian. Blaine knew there was a reason he could talk to Sebastian. They were both practically the same person so it made sense that he would understand how Blaine felt, but if this was Blaines realization, he wondered what was, or will be Sebastians. "Tell me about him."

"Hes just- amazing," confesses Blaine because with Sebastian, he knew this was a judge free zone. "He makes me feel alive, but in a way that keeps me grounded as well, you know? Hes this fresh, fragile, innocent person that Ive never come across before. Someone who just young, and kind and..I dont know, Sebastian. Can someone actually explain love?"

"Love?" says Sebastian, genuinely surprised. "Youre in love with him?"

"I think I am," says Blaine. He would be honest, but did he knew what love actually felt like? He felt as though he would give the boy happiness, even if it came win his expense. Was that love? Because it damn well felt close.

"And youre sure about this- leaving, for the subject?" ask Sebastian.

"I am, and its not just that, you know? This whole mission sort of opened my eyes to what Ive missed out on, and I dont want to miss out on anything life has to offer anymore. The agency is great, but to live a life of a constant stream of life-risking mission? Thrilling, obviously, especially for an adrenaline junkie like me, but I think I want to live freely..and love freely," thoroughly explains Blaine. He wanted to get his point across to Sebastian because he deserved to know. Information like this should be kept confidential, only between the director and the agent in question, but Blaine trusted Sebastian whole heartedly.

"Its thats youre decision," shrugs Sebastian. "I sort of know what you mean too, you know? Missing out on what life has to offer. This job is a toll sometimes."

"Youre gonna be okay without me, right? Not gonna stray off and wander and be lost, right?" smirks Blaine.

"Oh, dont worry," assures Sebastian, with a contrived smile.

The night goes on as Blaine and Sebastian simply catch up, talking about old missions, experiences, what Blaine would miss, whats been going on lately. He would miss Sebastian, of course, and Blaine knew that should he be granted exit, he would never be able to communicate with the people inside anymore because the CIA strive to be invisible to people, yet keeping them safe. Once he left, all this would be gone so he wanted to savor up whatever moments he had left.

Day breaks with the sunlight streaming into the windows, rays bursting through the seams of the curtains. Blaine hadnt realized he had dozed off while he was talking to Sebastian. Maybe he never really was able to relax, and after telling Sebastian, a weight was lifted off his shoulders and maybe he felt a little bit more at ease. Like an elastic band, if you ease the pressure, it calms.

The day was here- today, everything would come to light. Today, he would let the boy know of everything, and hopefully, if Kurt saw through all these chaos, he would realize just how profound Blaines feelings were. He would hope for the best even though the uncertainty is there, but what is life without a risk.

But in that moment, a loud shriek of panic deafens the room, putting the people at a standstill with the information that came in the form. "We got him! We got Lucius!"

There was no shadow of doubt in Blaines mind who that voice belonged to- Carl. For the shortest of seconds, Blaine sits there, completely caught off guard by what was told to him until he found it in himself to swallow his shock and dashes out the room to find Carl busy on his keyboard.

"Where is he," ask Blaine, coming up behind the man who seems too distracted to answer questions- that is until Blaine smacks him hard at the back of his head.

"Lima train terminal security caught him. Apparently he slipped on the Lima express late last night, disguised with a moustache. I caught his face on camera and thought that scar was familiar, so I ran a comparison check and it was a 100% match," explains Carl, fingers so rapidly dancing back an across the keyboard. "We have eyes on him on the train. Take a look."

Carl clicks on something on his computer screen before a live recording appears of a train cabin, complete with three by three seats placed on either side with a long aisle running in between the rows. The camera zooms in on a particular person, donned in all black, head down, eyes behind thick frames with a scruffy beard on his chin area. The way he was dressed was making an effort of concealment but that scar, however, is so pronounce there was no mistaking who it belonged to. A surge of rage rises inside of Blaine as he piece two and two together. Lucius was probably on his way to Lima to--what? Force the Elizabeth discovery out of Kurts hands? The very thought of the man heading towards here with the sole intention of hurting Kurt was disturbing, and blood boiling.

"Where is he now," ask Blaine, trying to keep his voice at a steady level than to show just how raging he was.

"The train is scheduled to arrive here at four. Im sending a team down there, make sure he doesnt escape," tells Carl. "Im alerting the terminal security as well. There is no way he can run now."

It was true. How far can a person run in a moving train? No matter where you go, youre still stuck in a confined vehicle. It was hard to believe, but it was true. They finally have caught Lucius, but what was peculiar is that Lucius has tried with all his might to practically be non-existent to the CIA. He practically dropped out the face of the Earth, and now hes in a public transport with nothing but facial hair to disguise him? It seemed a little amateurish- almost as if this was his intention, to get caught but it couldnt be. They would know soon anyway.

"Im calling for extraction the second that train arrived," tells Carl, and this little information gets Blaines attention.

"What? Why? What about the objective?" ask Blaine, hiding his true agenda of wanting to stay here- until tonight where everything would unravel for the boy.

"We got Lucius. Main suspect. The director did tell is to either retrieve the discovery, or the murder suspect. We have him," tells Carl.

"But if we can get both-"

"Blaine, we caught Lucius. Did you not hear me? This means that the boy is in no threat at all, which means its safe go leave the objective with him for awhile. Place security detail, sure, but we can surrender this mission to the directors call already," tells Carl. This couldnt be happening. Everything was set in Blaines head- today was the day he would tell the boy. He couldnt tell the boy if he wasnt here.

"Im not trying to be greedy or anything, but if we can surrender the discovery and Lucius to the director, wouldnt that be more impressive? I already know where is it, I can get it-"
"We shouldnt waste anymore time-"

"Were not!" snaps Blaine oblivious to the fact that he had rose his voice, startling Carl but he wasnt going to let this mission be over before he could tell the boy. He wasnt going to up and leave with the lid still left ajar.

"Let him get it," says a voice coming from somewhere behind Blaine, but of course he recognize that voice. Blaine whirls around anyway, to find Sebastian leaning against the bed room door frame, looking calm and collects which is far fetched from how Blaine must have looked. "Blaines right. If you retrieve the objective, and capture the number one suspect, the directors probably going to reward you with gold bars."

Carl is basically the directors pet. He lives to please the man, and does every trick he knows to just get his hair scruff so naturally when Sebastian tells him this, his eyes gleam with a vision- probably himself being congratulated by the director himself. He practically lives for it, an with this-- Carl is sold.

"So how do we coordinate this?" timidly ask Carl, giving the illusion that he isnt excited to get a standing ovation from the director. The question was directed to no one in particular, but Sebastian answers.

"Simple- Blaine, you get the discovery by tonight. Send a team down there, covering all exits possible to ensure you get Lucius, and when you do, bring him here for custody so when Blaine comes with the discovery, we call extraction," explains Sebastian. He seems to have thought all this through, or maybe his mind worked at lightning speed and is able to brainstorm and device the perfect plan.

"Sounds good to me. Carl?" ask Blaine. He was on board, mainly because this meant he could attend prom with Kurt-- and whatever that entails with that he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

"Agreed," says Carl.

"Excellent," chimed Sebastian.

---------

"Holy crap its tonight!" shrieks Kurt, so loud that the entire population of the small shopping mall salon glared at him in annoyance. This is where housewives come for relaxation, so when somebody disturbs their peace, theyre arent too please.

But Kurt could not contain his excitement. The night was here. The night hed been secretly dreaming about. A night of endless possibilities. It still hasnt fully sunken in, but when he sits quiet, the realization comes to him and induces him with spastic sudden outburst. It was getting insane. Even Tina is annoyed by it since its been a repetitively thing since they arrive here two hours ago.

"I hope we get lucky tonight," says Marley, immediately covering her mouth with her hands. "Did I just say that out loud?" Marley was a very wholesome, conservative girl(well, at least she tried to be) so when she says things even remotely sexual, it would surprise herself more than anyone else.

"I know I am," says Tina, a cheeky grin on her face. Kurt was still trying to imagine how Artie and Tina would do the nasty. A lap dance probably, on Artie chair? It was a terrible thing to wonder, but Kurt wondered if Arties equipment was still functional or not considering he is dead from the waist down.

"How about you, Kurt?" ask Marley. To be honest, Kurt wasnt exactly sure. He knew the boy had postponed their impromptu suppose-to-be sex in the bathroom to today, but Kurt was nervous for something else. Blaine had mentioned that there was something they needed to talk about-- and it sounds like a game changer. Despite the boys assuring words that it wasnt something bad, Kurt still couldnt help feel in anxious.

What if it is something that would break them completely apart? Like-- moving states, or country even! What if Blaine is actually a butch-- that cant be. His tool was evidence he is all man. That obviously couldnt be it? Kurt had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with graduation. Did the boy make plans to move to New York as well? Because that would probably be the best news ever even if they announce the cure for cancer tomorrow. Whatever it was, Kurt wasnt going to dwell over it. Tonight was his fairy take come true.

"I cant believe were all graduating soon. I mean, I never thought I would end my year off with having more than just a handicap-able person as a friend. I have a girlfriend and a gayfriend now. This is the American dream," dreamily sighs Tina. Though once again they were self-involved and a little insensitive words, but flattering nonetheless. "Lets play a little game while we wait for out highlights to be done. What was your highlight of the year. Marley, you first."

"Hmm, let me see," hums Marley as she allows her thoughts to wander. The hairdresser arrives back to check on the aluminium foils on their heads before she tells them how long more, and retreats to attend other customers. "I think it would have to be Lances Defence Against The Dark Arts club. I never thought I would enjoy a boys club, let alone physical fighting but it surprised me how much I looked forward to it everyday."

"You sure it didnt have anything to do with your weirdo crush on Lance?" smirks Kurt, making the girl uncomfortable. You could see in her cheeks- how crimson they were. Practically flaming.

"Okay fine, for the first few weeks, yeah, but afterwards I just really loved being there- with everybody," says Marley, and Kurt had to admit-- it was a pretty good save. He wasnt necessarily mad any more, it was just comical how a girl crushed on Blaine-- not that Kurt could actually blame Marley. Blaine was the kind of guy both girls and guys could fall for. "Okay, enough about me. What about you?"

This question struck a chord in Kurts mind. Did he have a good year? Losing his mother was obviously the biggest let down since--since whatever else but he picked himself up..or rather, he was picked up, and there really only was one person to thank for that.

"As much as I love you girls, and I do, my highlight of the year has to be meeting Lance," tells Kurt.

"Of course it is-" sarcastically chimes Marley but Kurt wanted to elaborate because these girls just didnt understand the depths of how much Blaine meant to him.

"Im going to get awfully deep right now, so you girls have to bear with it, alright?" warns Kurt. "Losing my mother this year was the most awful thing that has ever happened to me, and for awhile I though I would never recover from it. It just got really bad to the point where it even drove my dad and I apart. I think I was suicidal at one point even, but when I met Lance...everything changed. He was a beacon of hope for me, you know? When I though the world didnt give a shit about me despite what I was going through, he was there and gave me something I needed the most- a friend. Thats why hes my highlight, because at a time where my life seemed like it was at the bottom of abyss, far from retrieve, he came and..saved me."

Kurt had gotten so lost to talking about the boy, he sort of had an out of body experience, watching himself from a far, eyes gleaming, mouth in a small smile as he rambled on about someone who meant the world to him- he didnt notice that both the girls were tearing up already but he couldnt actually blame them.

"Thats-- i want to feel like that with somebody one day," says Tina, wiping her tears away and checking in the mirror to make sure her heavy eye-liner is still intact.

"What happens when you both graduate?" ask Marley as the hairdresser returns, checking yet again on her hair. Kurt secretly hopes something went wrong because as much as he did not want to have some form of vendetta against the girl, he always was the king of holding grudges. "Are you going your separate ways, long distance?"

The question definitely left Kurt tongue tied. He would answer, fluently even with the utmost confidence, but he wasnt sure what would happen when they were handed diplomas and the tune of True Colours started to play- a McKinley High tradition. Was that the conclusion and he and the boys relationship? Would they hold on nonetheless, even when the world seemed against them? Kurt wasnt sure, but he was trying his best to be optimistic.

"I think they have what it takes to last," interjects Tina, smiling at the mirror reflection to Kurt. It was flattering again.

"Thanks, Tina, and I hope youre right," says Kurt.

The next couple of hours they spend getting their nails done, facial massages. It was fun to have an all pampering day out, to prep for the big night. He knew this wasnt what boys normally did prior to prom night, but Kurt was different. He actually cared for perfect nails and a clear complexion. By the time it was 3PM, they knew they had to get going, otherwise they wouldnt make it in time to get dress and only the Lord knows how long Kurt took just to get his hair to a decent level. As they exit out of the salon, Kurts phone vibrated in his pocket and cheks the dial to be Jacob calling in.

"Hello?" says Kurt, a little suspicious.

"Kurt, are you with Tina and Marley?" ask the boy.

"It depends on whats it about," says Kurt, the girls eyeing him curiously.

"The boys and I have a plan, and we need you three to be a part of it," declares the boy.

"A plan? For what?" ask Kurt, confused.

"For Lance," says Jacob.

---------------

Blaine waits anxiously at the headquarters, practically biting ever inch of his nails of waiting for the agents to arrive with Lucius Dame. The train had an early arrival of thirty minutes which meant they had to scramble out of there. Blaine had volunteered to partake, but given he had his own part of the mission to handle, Carl and Sebastian objected him to tag along. That was probably the first thing the had ever agreed on- together. Sebastian stays put as wel, twirling a pen with his long webbed fingers while Carl taps on his keyboard.

It was a dangerous thing to bring a possible murderer into these humble streets, but given they hadnt actually anticipated to capture Lucius here, they would have to make do. Sebastian had arranged an extraction, ironically at that clearing where Blaine had went to after the little movie screening of McKinley. Maybe it was symbolic in a way he did not understand. Blaine was honestly too preoccupied to carefully plan how all this would play out. It seemed to fundamental in his head- go to prom, tell Kurt, confess to him- everything- go back to New York, tender his resignation of course after completing this mission and then be free to caress the boy guilt free. It was something he was looking forward to whole-heartedly.

The sound of screeching tires entering the garage jolts all the three man. Carl is off his seat in a giff and sprints to the garage entrance from the house, Blaine following closely and Sebastian not far from their trails. The car pulls in, the garage door slides close, heavy metallic walls separating them from the cheery outside to the cold inside. Agent Marcus steps out of the solid black van, looking tough and rugged with his scruffy beard and sharp eyes. He looks more intimidating without his janitor jumpsuit on.

"We got him, sir," tells Marcus as two other agents step out of the vehicle. The seconds seem to drag on as Blaine waits impatiently to stare into the eyes of the man who killed Kurts mother. If these people werent here, he would seek vengeance right here and now, for avenge Kurt, but he knew otherwise. If he grabbed Carls pocket knife the man was always carrying, maybe he could at least leave the deep cut on the mans cheek?

"Bring him in," says Sebastian, his voice losing all its form of glory of life, and now is just the authoritative, strict tone of a fellow CIA operative. The two agents go round the back, pulls the door open and out stumbles a man adorned in all black, his clad muddy boots leaving footprints of the cement floor. The blindfold is ripped off his head and those eyes- cold, blooshot, lethal and eerie stare right into Blaine.

There really was no better way to describe him except that he radiate all forms of evil. His eyes seem to go on forward, but they were a vast of emptiness- like a clearing, but with dead Earth. His trademark scar travels down the side of his face and strangely, Blaine wonders the history behind it. He hoped somebody had gotten extremely pissy with him- and he would applaud said person. When his eyes catches Blaine, he pulls the absolutely most crook, Satanic smile a shudder runs down Blaines spine at the simple sight of it. He looked at no one else, just Blaine.

"Take him to the upstairs room. Chain him to the ceiling and blindfold him. Be ready to leave tonight. Blaine, you know whats next," orderly says Carl. Blaine does not tear his icy stare at the man, refusing to shrink just because the man was the epitome of death. He simply nodded at Carl, before the two agents roughly manoeuvre him, walking right by Blaine, those vacant eyes still latched to his own. "Cant believe we actually captured him. Sneaky little fucking bastard," curses Carl.

"Make sure two guards are with him all the time," tells Blaine. "Heavy armed."

"You think hes going to try an escape?" ask Carl. "I doubt he would take the chance. He would know hes in a house full of CIA operatives. To even attempt an escape would practically be signing a death sentence."

"We dont know that, do we? Like you said, sneaky little bastard," says Blaine, eyeing the man again as he is shoved up the stairs. He hoped the agents remained their rowdiness with Lucius. He deserved nothing but the worst treatment. Blaine could picture if then- the cold eyes of death,staring right into Elizabeths sweet motherly face as she accepts her demise and surrenders to the hands of God. This man was cruel, and he deserved whatever that would come to him-- and frankly, Blaine thought it wouldnt be justice until he was hanging by a tight rope on a metallic bar on the ceiling.

"Any words?" ask Carl, but this time the question was directed to a rather silent Sebastian, who stands at the corner, long arms crossed over his lean chest. He seemed to have been distracted until Carls voice brought him back to solid ground, eyes riddled with confusion. "Any word of congratulations? Maybe a pat on the shoulder for ol four eyes here?"

"Yeah, good job," says Sebastian. He was strangely weird. He never in his life over his mothers dead body would never send a compliment to Carls way. Maybe he was just as shaken up as Blaine was by the mere sight of Lucius alive but decomposing yellow teeth. Carl seemed to take notice at this too, glancing at Blaine quickly before he pulls an ostentatious smile.

"Okay, well, Blaine you better get going. We need that discovery latest by 9PM. Extraction will be at ten," says Carl, but Blaine runs for the man, wanting a private second with him, with Sebastian out of earshot. Carl is startled when he is pulled to the corner. "What is it?"

"Can I get just a little more time?" ask Blaine, timidly of course. He wondered if he could negotiate it to at least after midnight because Blaine knew he would need a longer time to fully convince the boy of his infatuation, of all this- despite it being a fecade, is as real as ever.

"You said you were sure you could get it," says Carl, eyebrows furrow in irritants.

"I do, but I just- need a little more time," says Blaine and this time, he decides to be truthful, except excluding the part about his complete attachment to the subject because rule breaking definitely was not on Carls its-okay list. "Its just, I made a few friends in this high school and I know I shouldnt have, but I couldnt help it. It was a community, and I did, and I dont think I can just up and leave without saying goodbye. Just goodbyes, nothing more. I promise. Please, Carl."

The man seemed to debate this within himself, which was understandable because if Blaine was a complex man, Carl was a fucking work of Picasso. His mind was always debating with facts and fiction and rules and outlaws. He had this constant thought process that should be draining but he does it so effortless because-- well, hes one of the CIAs best and brightest. "I can give you until midnight, but thats the latest, you hear me? Im sure Sebastian wont mind, considering hw pale he looks."

Thanking the man as much as he could, Carl retreats upstairs and changes to his wardrobe- his tux looks mighty fine he had to say. It wasnt his of course. One of the agents here apparently packed tuxedos on his mission which was frankly a little weird, but in this circumstance, Blaine was thankful. He started to feel all jittery all of a sudden. This would be it, not far from now the boy would know every single detail, and whether he chose to believe the truth- that Blaines feelings were true- or not, would be a risk, but it was better to know than to live his life wondering if Kurt was the one that got away. He needed to do this- man up and do it- for the boy, for himself even, for the sake of their feelings for each other.

As Blaine emerges out of the bedroom, he walks across the hallway and is about to descend the staircase when he stares straight ahead, where two agents are standing on either side of a door frame, the door left ajar and a man is standing there, his hands chained to mental rods on the ceiling, eyes blinded with a cloth. For some reason, Blaine is pulled towards what he knew was a bad idea, but he needed to do it anyway. The agents eye him cautiously, but they knew Blaines authority trumped theirs so they take a step to the left and allow Blaine entrance.

The sound of his footsteps must have alerted the man because his head falls to stare straight where Blaine is standing, despite him being blindfolded. His chains rustle slight at his weight, and Blaine notices that he is hanging from the ceiling, feet not touching the ground at all. Probably just a few inches off but still- it must have hurt to be dangling by just your wrist-- all the more. This is the man. This is the man that so heartlessly ripped Kurts mother away from him, who caused a man to be a widow, who caused a son to lose his mother, who caused a son to be so deep in sorrow for weeks and weeks. Who caused so much heartache. No, this man deserve no sympathy. He deserved to burn in Kurts rage fire should he know about this.

"Youre just gonna stand there and watch me, are you?" ask Lucius, in which Blaine is appalled by his audacity to even speak. Blaine clenches his fist tightly because as much as he would want to give a right hook to this man in honour of Kurt, he knew he should refrain, Torturing was never his forte. Somebody in the agency specialize in that, just not him. Blaine decides to ask the most basic, the most easiest straight forward question he could think of.

"Why did you murder her?" ask Blaine, though he knew the answer to that, he needed to hear it from the murderer himself. Lucius smiles to himself, filthy teeth on display.

"Pleasure," says the man before an evil laughter entails next. A surge of anger rises inside of Blaine. Before he could stop himself, he steps forward and throws the hardest punch he could muster, his whole body vibrating like a triangle instrument. Blood begins to gush out of the mans nose. He spits, before he laughs again. "Feel better?"

"Youre fucking asshole," says Blaine. He had never been this furious at a culprit before, but this man just irk every part of his body, his bones practically heavy and cold just at the simple sight of his half-face. "She was a mother, a wife, and you killed here- without a shadow of hesitance I bet."

"More than that. She was a good fuck too-" says Lucius, but his words are cut short when Blaine throws yet another right hook at the man, this time blood oozes out from a small cut on his lower lip courtesy of the metal ring Blaine was wearing. He wondered if Lucius was telling the truth considering forensics never said anything about rape. He laughs again. It was strange, even back at that van when he did not even try to struggle out of the other agents grasp. He followed obediently, but why though? You would think somebody who has been running from the law would be pissy when he finally gets caught, but this man actually seemed to want to be here.

"Youre done. Youre over. If you think life imprisonment will be bad, try execution. That is your fate," says Blaine, sure of himself. He would fight for it before he leaves. He would ensure Lucius receives the worst sentence ever, to compensate for what he did to Kurt and Burt Hummel. This was what he would do for them, for their suffering- this would be for them. Lucius laughs again, blood alll over his teeth and lips. His voice drops an octave and despite his eyes being hidden by the cloth, for some reason those eyes still send shudders down Blaines spine.

"Trust me, thats not my fate," says the man, a smile pulling across his face. Blaine makes to throw one last legendary right hook at the man, but his phone rings in that moment. He pulls it out and recognizes Kurts number. He answers it immediately, despite the circumstance.

"Kurt, hey," greets Blaine, still starring at the man. If only Kurt knew.

"Blaine- you need to come to McKinley quick. Something has happened. Please," says the boy, and a cold shudder runs down Blaines spine, and this time its not because of Lucius, but because of Kurts fearful tone of voice.