The following day arises as Blaine wakes up to the sound of heavy footsteps running back and forth somewhere in the house. He checks his time and almost wanted to curse somebody because he had a good thirty minutes at least before having to get up and continue with the mission. Pulling on a jacket over just boxers, he opens the bedroom door to find most of the CIA team in a hasty, intense situation.

"Whats going on?" ask Blaine as he approaches Carl, who is typing something on his keyboard in a very quick pace.

"We might have possibly found the whereabouts of Lucius Dame," tells Carl.

"Really? Where is he?"

"Airport security said they saw him at one of the bars but he was gone before they could intercept," tells Carl.

"Have you run the CCTV cameras?" ask Blaine as he zips up his jacket, watching the screen in which Carl clicks on an icon and a number of small pop outs appear.

The camera focuses on all the faces that walk by the camera, comparing it with the picture of the man with the downward travelling scar. He has dark eyes that were practically screamed lethality.

"Where the hell is he," mutters Carl to himself.

"Try the parking lot, or the drop off point," tells Blaine, and the screen quickly switched to one that shows the airports carpark and another screen showing the taxi drop off point. The camera does its focusing again but nobody comes close to that face.

"Hes nowhere to he seen," tells Carl. "I think we lost him."

"If he has left the airport, he cant be far away. Try the traffic cameras as well, and make sure to get the immigration extra vigilant. Security needs to ask passengers to take off their glasses, hats or any head gear."

"Got it," tells Carl as he rushes for the phone. "Meanwhile, you have to go. School should be starting soon, and I need you to sign a report for the director."

"What report?" ask Blaine.

"An update on the mission. Hes getting impatient. I saw from the Hummels residence camera that you dropped the boy off last night. Getting closer?"

"You could say that. Yes," tells Blaine. "Make sure you check every camera, alright? And get the team in New York to set up a perimeter leading up to JFK."

"Yes, Blaine," tells Carl. "Focus on your part of the mission for now, alright? Ill get that son of a bitch."

As Blaine retreats to the bathroom, he could not help but to get frustrated. They had come close to catching Elizabeths murderer, but the man slipped through their fingers as if he knew he was being watched. But if he knew, why would he have gone to such a public place, with the strictest security in the world? That didnt make sense. It was as if he wanted to be seen, as if mocking the CIA team.

He allows the water to run over his head as his thoughts wander off, trying to piece this puzzle. Who was this Lucius Dame, and how did he find out about Elizabeths creation in the first place? Maybe the man was a janitor, working in secret as he keeps tabs on the daily progression of said creation? What would he want to do with Elizabeths discovery anyway? Something was not right, something just did not click. It couldnt be just anybody that was after such a valuable discovery. The man, Lucius Dame had to have a bigger agenda.

"Find anything?" ask Blaine as he emerges out of the bathroom.

"Nothing," tells Carl. "I think he managed to slip out before airport security could call us."

"Thats odd, isnt it? That he came out in public after clearing out his apartment?"

"Maybe he was just trying to catch a flight out, and when security advanced for him, he freaked and ran."

"I dont know, its just is a little off to me- that he knew to clear out his entire apartment, and then knew the exact time to run."

"It is a little weird," tells Carl.

"Have you guys got anything on him? Aside from his records and his face?"

"Im trying to find out what he does for a living, but for now- yeah, thats all that we have," tells Carl. "Hows the progress with the kid?"

"Ive only just established a friendship with him, I doubt hes jumping up and own to let me in on his mothers secrets," says Blaine.

"Well make sure you get a move on things. The faster we retrieve, the faster you can get that well needed break of yours," tells Carl.

Blaine can only smile in response. Before this mission, he had dreaded going back into the field, especially since just coming back from one. Now that he is here, a part of him wanted to prolong it for some reason- and that was most definitely dangerous.

"Get to school, youre going to be late, and listen- no more fights with teenagers, alright? I managed to get rid of that video completely so now were safe again, but if anything else like that happens, Im reporting it to the director. Got it?"

"Yes, dad," teases Blaine.

---------

As Blaine enters the school front doors, he is greeted with a few pair of eyes watching him as he makes his way down the halls. Surely they still cant be talking about him and the altercation with the football team, right? Dont trends change like lightning speed with teenagers?

Just as Blaine makes a corner for his locker, he stops abruptly in his tracks when the cheerleader, Quinn Fabray adorned in her very revealing cheerleading attire, stands in his way, lips painted an alluring pink and eyelashes practically dipped in mascara.

"Hi sexy," she says with a cunning tone.

"Could you get out of my way please? Im kinda in a hurry," tells Blaine as he serpents around the girl, whom follows him like they had a tether.

"Listen, I know we sort of got off on the wrong foot with me manipulating you and then throwing you into a pit for the football team to maul, but you definitely proved yourself man enough to be my next boy toy," tells the girl with a salacious smirk. "So how about it, you and me?"

"Youre kidding, right?" ask Blaine, in utter disbelief of this girls level of delusion.

"Im willing to look past your rather off choices of clothes, and trust me-- Im not very difficult, if you know what I mean," says the girl as she gives a wink to Blaine.

"Do you know where you stand, Quinn? When you step outside those doors?" ask Blaine as he shuts his locker with a slam and faces the girl, whom is startled by the loud thud for a moment. "Youre going to be rich, indefinitely. Youre going to marry someone who will make you rich and youre going to live in a lavish, penthouse somewhere overlooking a lake, but in your thirties probably, that womanising future husband of yours will leave you because by thirty you would have lost all the charms and wit that attracts rich bachelors, and then you will realize that you were merely an object of lust- for any man. Never an equal, simply just a piece of meat to satisfy someones carnal hunger. My advice? Get some self-respect. Crack open those books and actually make something of yourself, because beauty can only get you so far."

The girl looks positively speechless. Her sharp blue eyes are vacant as she allows the harsh reality to sink in. She knows it is true, and it was. Blaine has seen a lot of woman like her in his line of career as he tackles millionaires who dabbled with the wrong people, only to land in prison and their trophy wives- young, blond and beautiful- leave and look for other bachelors to surrender their services to. It was pathetic.

"Have a nice day," smiles Blaine as he leave the speechless girl to where she stands in her roots.

He could not help but to notice the football team still shooting him hateful glares as he strides past them. He wondered briefly why they hadnt attacked him yet, as a full pack. You would think theyd want revenge for absolutely humiliating them. Maybe they were scared, or devising a much bigger plan.

Blaine enters his first period- AP chemistry, to find the boy, Kurt Hummel already in their bench, his books opened in front of him and a slight frown on his face. He looks fresh today, his hair styled and his outfit with brighter hues. Something about seeing the boy looking less like a dark cloud made him smile.

"Are you always the first to arrive?" ask Blaine as he approaches the boy. He looks up and a shy smile pulls across that feminine face of his.

"I prefer to avoid the hustle and bustle of the school hallway," tells the boy.

"Make sense. Its a jungle out there, I barely made it out alive."

"Im glad you did," says the boy in a very timid tone. He resumes his work, with a deep frown on his face yet again, tapping his pen on the table too with much frustration.

"Something I can help with?" offers Blaine.

"I just- dont understand this question," whines Kurt as he slides his book in between him and Blaine. "What do limestones do in the blast furnace process," he reads it a lot.

"Well, thats actually pretty easy," tells Blaine. "Limestones are added to remove impurities in the furnace"

"What do you mean?"

"How do I put this," thinks Blaine. "Its sort of like filtering somebody fake? To see their true colours?"

"So- sort of like wiping away a girls make up to see her natural self?" ask Kurt with eyes riddled with curiosity.

"Yeah," says Blaine, smiling encouragingly at the boy.

"I dont know how you find this so easy. Chemistry can slap me in the face and Id still wont know it was it," tells Kurt.

"Its pretty easy when you get the concept of it," tells Blaine.

"You would think Id have science knowledge coursing through my veins," says the boy.

"What do you mean?" ask Blaine, tilting his head slightly in the direction of the boy. He knows the answer to his own question of course.

"She was-- really into science," tells the boy. "Practically lived and breathed it."

"Really? Thats interesting," says Blaine. "Was she a scientist?"

"The best in my eyes," says the boy, his cyan eyes alight with a certain glimmer. "She was a scientist at a university in New York."

"New York? An amazing place, or so Ive heard."

"I hope to go there someday," says the boy, his eyes in a wander as if envisioning his future in the big apple.

"And be a scientist like your late mother?" ask Blaine.

"Thats what my dad wants me to be," says the boy, but there was a slight doubt in his tone- almost as if he was programmed to say that.

Just as Blaine is about to respond and ask further, the door burst open and in comes the chemistry teacher dressed sloppily in an untucked shirt with little mustard stains on them. His spectacles smudged with fingerprints. The army of students fall in the second the bell goes off. It was very systematic, and when the bell dies away, the door is shut.

"Good morning class," says the teacher in a monotonous intonation. "Today I will be assigning you your final term assignments. Bear in mind this will factor a lot into your final GPA so I advise you take it seriously. In the past, I allowed the students to choose their own partners and as a result, it backfired so I will not be making that same mistake. I will be choosing your partners this year- no arguments."

The students begin to groan aloud in protest of the teachers decision. Clearly they all had specific people in mind which makes it all the more frustrating.

"First, miss Rachel Berry, you will be partnered up with Artie Abrams-"

"The cripple?" shrieks a beautiful brunette girl with maybe too much eye make-up. Her clothes are a little too tight for her, obviously for the sole purpose of giving boys something to feast their eyes on. She looks positively enraged.

"Mister Abrams is one of the brightest in the class. Maybe hes knowledge would rub off on you-"

"Im sure thats not all he wants to rub on me," says the girl, in which the students laugh and the boy, Artie Abrams, who is in a wheelchair drops his head in shame.

"Quiet, Miss Berry," warns the teacher. "Mister Ryder Lynn, you will be partnered with Marley Rose."

The girl, who has long raven hair blushes slightly. She is a pretty girl, someone who definitely is sweet than sultry judging from the multiple layers she is dressed in. The boy looks bored as the teacher announces his decision.

"Nice decision to pair the manslut with the nun," remarks the same girl, Rachel Berry. She is beginning to become a real pain. The teacher shoots her a warning glare before he continues his pacing.

"Mister Lance Jackson?" calls the teacher. Blaine straightens in his chair and looks at him. "You will be with your current partner, mister Kurt Hummel."

Blaine had nearly wanted to leapt off his chair, or throw his fist up in the air in victory. This would make his mission so much easier, but also a part of him is excited he will have to spend some mandatory extra time with the boy probably outside this classroom. He glances over at the boy, who is looking out the window, his face hidden from Blaines view.

"Gaylord must be thrilled to be partners with the hottest guy in school as of late. New kid, I should warn you hes gonna try and grope you in your study sessions," says the girl in which the rows of students burst out in a variation of obnoxious laughter. The teacher, however, says nor does anything to stop the girl.

"Are you just gonna stand there and let her insult Kurt like that?" ask Blaine to the teacher, in which the class is momentarily stunned.

"Id watch your tone, mister Jackson, unless you wouldnt mind spending the whole afternoon in detention," glares the teacher.

"So when she makes vile remarks about straight people, its wrong but insulting a gay student is okay? Arent you suppose to be an educator?" ask Blaine.

You could almost see the fire burn in the pupils of Mister Montgomery. His nose practically flaring at being called out like that. The students watch him in silence, waiting for his response as Blaine sits there, tilting his head, refusing to be intimidated by such double standard.

"You just bought yourself a weeks worth of detention. Another sound, and Ill make that two," says the teacher. Blaine fights the urge to argue. Carl wouldnt be too pleased to hear that.

"Someones just a tad protective of the fag-"

"You know, people have snouts like a pig really shouldnt be tearing other people down, or is that how you boost your own self-esteem? Newsflash, your nose is bigger than Russia," interjects Blaine.

The girl wears a face plastered with defeat. She is tongue tied as the students chuckle under their breath, including the boy, Artie Abrams. She glares at Blaine with big brown eyes before flipping her hair with attitude and looking up front to the board. The teacher resumes assigning people with partners they are less than pleased with, except for Blaine. He couldnt be more pleased with his partner.

"Thank you," whispers Kurt. "For sticking up for me- again."

"Thats what lab partners do," smirks Blaine.

"Im sorry you got partnered with me- a very hopeless case in AP chemistry," tells the boy.

"Well, its lucky Im better at this subject than you then."

"Lucky for me," says the boy.

"Lucky for you," smiles Blaine.

"Okay then," says the teacher, clapping his hands together. "Now that youre all partnered, I will assign you a project and three weeks from now, you will have to submit it. Understood?"

A lifeless groan responds the teacher as he begins to hand out worksheets to the different benches. Kurt takes the paper from him and stares at it as if it was the Da Vinci Code. He drops it on the counter top and sighs heavily.

"Im so glad youre my partner," says Kurt, in which Blaine couldnt help but to smile widely at.

---------

"Hey Carl," says Blaine into his phone as he slides into an empty classroom shortly after history class ended. "Any updates?"

"Well, I did find out that he was a janitor at Columbia University," tells Carl.

"That is a big facet of the case, right?"

"I guess, but it doesnt explain why he would kill her for it. Money, sure, but if he was only a janitor, who was he going to sell it to?"

"When was he hired?" ask Blaine, leaning against the back of the door.

"About- two months ago."

"That is no coincidence. He lands the job and shortly after, Elizabeth Hummel is murdered? I bet he knew before he took the job. I bet that was his plan all along."

"It does make sense," tells Carl. "Wanna hear the most interesting part though? I got the results from forensics and they said that Lucius was not the only one who hurt her that night. They said that they found a couple of bruises inflicted around seven PM of the day. Lucius murdered her around ten oclock at night."

"Somebody else was there?" ask Blaine, his inside turning cold all of a sudden. "Have you checked security tapes?"

"Thats another interesting part. From seven to eight, all the cameras at the campus stopped recording for an hour."

"What the hell?"

"My reaction exactly," tells Carl.

"We need to send somebody down there, see if they can interview a few students and find out if Elizabeth had any enemies amongst her colleagues, seeing as how she had bruises even before Lucius."

"Got it," says Carl. "Hows it going with the kid?"

"I did get partnered up with him for our AP chemistry assignment, which means more time having to spend with him," tells Blaine, smiling at that simple fact.

"Great. Hurry, okay? Somethings up with this mission that does not give me an easy feeling. The faster we surrender Elizabeths discovery to the government, the faster they can introduce it to the world, the safer the family will be."

"I still dont understand why we shouldnt just ask them," says Blaine because even he knew telling the family would save them an abundance of time.

"The director already said he does not want to cause a panic, and what if they refuse to surrender it to us because its their familys legacy? Its safer this way, keeping an eye on them from afar."

"Whatever you say," shrugs Blaine. "I have to go, and keep me posted."

Storing his phone into his pocket, Blaine pulls the door open and continues down the hallway, down to the cafeteria where it was lunchtime. There were barely anybody in the halls, just a few couples snuggled in the corners with each other, making out.

He couldnt help but to wonder who else was in that office on that same night. Was the man having an affair with Elizabeth? Did he want the creation to himself, or was he working with Lucius? There is also the bit about how the cameras did not work. That could not be just be coincidence. He started to play the scene in his head- a beautiful woman with long brown hair, so focused on her work that she did not hear the footsteps of a man as he slid into the laboratory. He pulls out his knife, no doubt because crooks like these are nothing without their weapons, and holds it on her throat. She wrestles to get free-

"Excuse me," says an Asian girl irritably as she serpents around Blaine into the cafeteria. It was a simple place with benches and long tables placed in neat rows, and students already filling them.

You could see the segregation of clubs and sports teams from how they sat. The football team are seated the most glorious table, on a platform and next to the window that faces the courtyard. The cheerleaders are with them too. A few other groups of students are scattered everywhere. Blaine notices the boy, Jacob Ben Israel and his group of friends who are dressed in baggy trousers and plaid shirts seated at the far corner of the cafeteria, almost hidden behind a vending machine an a trash can. They look deep and invested in their conversation.

Blaine searches the crowd again for that familiar hairstyle, those unique set of eyes, that feminine boy face because those are just some of the boys best traits. He falls in the queue of students waiting to buy their food, and soon it was his turn.

"What can I get you, son?" ask a very large woman who has a sweet, motherly face and a hairnet.

"Urm- what is that?" ask Blaine, pointing to a pot full of something that resembles poo.

"Pork stew," tells the woman.

"Ill just have a salad then," says Blaine, almost wanting to barf. He hated eating pork. "And coffee."

"Sorry kid, principal Sue banned coffee to be sold to students. She claims it makes the students even more sexually active, and racist," tells the woman.

"That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."

"Tell me about it. So, some salad and a juice box?" offers the woman.

"Thank you," smiles Blaine to the very sweet woman who seems very down to Earth.

She grabs a bowl and starts dumping a bunch of vegetables on it before coating it with thousand island sauce. "You know, Ive never seen you hear before. I would remember a handsome boy like you."

"Awe sharks, thank you," blushes Blaine. "Im new here."

"New? Its almost the end of the year already."

"Does the term - better late than never - fit with the situation?"

"I guess. Youre a senior?" ask the woman as she places the salad and a juice box on the counter for Blaine to pick up and load onto his tray.

"I am," tells Blaine.

"My daughter is a senior too. Marley Rose."

"I think I have a class with her," says Blaine, remembering the raven haired girl in his chemistry class.

"Shes a shy one. Full of talent, but shy."

"Well, Id say hi to her when I see her again."

"You do that," smiles the woman before Blaine leaves the queue. So the lunch lady was way sweeter than any of the teachers in this school. How funny.

He searches the crowd again for that sandy blond hair, and finds him sitting alone at a long table at the far back of the cafeteria. He seems too invested in drawing something in a notebook to realize that he has food in front of him.

"This seat taken?" ask Blaine as he approaches the boy, whom is startled momentarily as he stares up at Blaine with big, round saucers.

"Oh- no," stammers the boy.

"Thank you," says Blaine as he falls into his seat. "So are you doing there?" ask Blaine as he tries to sneak a peek at the boys notebook. He quickly snatches it away and shoves it into his satchel.

"Nothing," he says with a mysterious edge to his tone. The boy looks positively embarrassed, almost as if it would have given his whole list of secrets away. It was, in a way, adorable to Blaine. "Ive never actually seen you in the cafeteria before."

"I always eat outside at the courtyard," tells Blaine, even though it was such a lie. He normally would hide out in an empty classroom and get updates from Carl back in base.

"Oh, okay. So listen, when do you wanna get started on the assignment?" ask the boy as he picks up his fork and stabs on the sweet potato on his tray.

"I dont know? Whenever you want to, I guess," says Blaine but before the boy can respond, a loud shrill of terror deafens the cafeteria. They turn to the direction of the commotion and the boy, Jacob Ben Israel is being carried out through the back exit by three laughing jocks. "Whats going on there?"

"The usual lunch hour dumpster toss," says Kurt, rolling his eyes. "Its usually the computer geeks that get it."

"Computer geeks?"

"Theyre pretty handy with computers. Theyre actually in the AVA club but everyone calls them computer geeks. They once hacked into the schools data frame to change the lunch menu for the following day," tells Kurt.

"Thats- really impressive," says Blaine, in truthfulness. That sounds like something the CIA could do, people who worked in the office like Carl- a behind the scenes hero.

"Theyre hardly appreciated even though they are the people to thank for all the major school events like the Sadie Hawkins dance, graduation, movies under the stars, Prom. Theyre the ones who made it possible," tells Kurt. "But the school deems them losers because they dont look the best."

"That is just- sad," says Blaine, frustrated at this schools ridiculous dynamic.

"Tell me about it," says Kurt. In the moment, the three jocks enter the cafeteria again, wearing self-indulgent smirks and congratulating each other with pretentious high-fives.

"Victory!" yells one of them, in which the football team and the cheerleaders cheer on for them.

"Give me a sec," says Blaine as he jumps off his seat and runs out the exit to where the trash bins are. The back of the school where there are three huge vessels of trash reeks really bad and is infested with flies and bugs residing on the small cracks of the graffiti walls.

"Jacob!" calls out Blaine as he hoist himself up and stands on the small ledge looking into the mountain of trash of the first vessel. A dejected groan comes from the one at the far end, so Blaine jumps to the ground and leaps to look into the third one. "Jacob?"

"Help me," he says in a monotonous surrender. The boy is lying on top of a pile of garbage, his big auburn Afro has banana skins stuck in them, his clothes stained with whatever the heck was in there and his glasses smudged with what looks like the pork stew.

"Are you alright? Broken bones or anything?" ask Blaine as he carefully steps into the garbage, making sure he doesnt fall.

"No broken bones, just a broken pride," he says.

"Come on," says Blaine as he offers his hand to the boy, who takes it and is hoisted up to his feet. He dust whatever garbage that clung on to him following his fall as the two of them slowly clamber out of the pit of waste. "You sure youre alright?"

"Im fine. Just hate those guys. Awe man, they broke my glasses," says Jacob as he pulls off his moon spectacles and studies the small cracked on the left lens.

"Better your glasses than your eye, right?" offers Blaine, wanting to look on the brighter side though the boy looks really dejected. You could see in those dark eyes of his that as the days go by, hes slowly becoming intolerable of the football team. Blaine couldnt blame him. He had been here no less than two weeks and he himself has become intolerable of those baboons.

"I cant wait till you teach us how to fight. Im going to punch Puckerman square in his face like this!" exclaims the boy as a throws a punch to the metallic vessel. His face drains of colour before a deafening cry emits from him. "My knuckles!"

"That was a stupid move, Im not going to lie," says Blaine. "Come on, lets go back in."

The boy rubs his knuckles as he follows Blaines shadows through the thresholds of the exit door and back into the cafeteria. A few pair of eyes watch them as they made their way to the AVA clubs table, including a set of cyan eyes.

"Look who came to the rescue," says a familiar voice as the jock, Noah Puckerman, slides in front of Blaine.

"Oh- I didnt rescue him. I merely did the humane thing to do and helped him out of the garbage you animals dumped him into," says Blaine.

"You know, I really hate when somebody talks back to me-"

"You dont hate it, Puckerman. Youre just not used to somebody standing up to you because you think youre some sort of high school king-"

"Oh, I am king, little hobbit. Frankly, I am sick and tired of that mouth of yours. Clearly you havent understood the status quo of this school, and where you stand so I guess were gonna have to show you," says the jock, his pupils practically burning red.

"Really? It didnt work out so well for you the last time you tried to show me, right? Or is your intellect really that low you cant even remember recent events?" ask Blaine, taking a step closer to the boy who is clutching his fist together.

"You got lucky the first time. Id like to see you try to beat us- on our turf."

"Pardon?"

"The football field," says the boy.

"You want to fight me on a football field? I dont see how that will help you considering it was your lack of fighting skills that had you on your ass the first time," says Blaine. He notices the AVA club watching him, eyes wide with amazement as they watched somebody standing up to Puckerman. The same could be said for the boy seated at the far end.

"I want you to tryout for the football team. Lets see whose the tougher man here," says the jock.

"Like I would ever tryout out to be one of you idiots. Not everyone aspires to be an air headed jock, in case you were delusional."

"Did you hear that, guys? Hes scared," says Puckerman. He turns to his herd of animals and they all wear annoying smirks on their faces. "Someone is a little chicken shit."

"Hardly. I have better things to do than run around carrying a stupid football. Get out of my way please."

"Alright, Ill get out of your way- but you heard it first everyone!" says the jock as he climbs on the table of the AVA team, kicking their trays to the ground. "I challenged Lance to a game, but hes a little scary puss to tryout."

The football team burst into chuckles and snickers, clutching their generic letterman jackets. Blaine loved being challenged because it was an opportunity for him to show what he was made of, but in this circumstance- he couldnt be bothered with it. He had much important things to do. The jock jumps from the table and goes right into Blaines face, eyes narrowing at him.

"If you had any balls at all, youd show up tomorrow- three oclock at the football field. Ill show you whos king," says the jock. The bell goes off in that moment, silencing Blaine from responding. "Lets go guys."

The football team disperse out of the cafeteria with the cheerleaders clinging on their belts basically. Everybody is set in a soft murmur as they pour out of the cafeteria, no doubt talking about how he was just called out in front of everyone.

"Are you gonna do it?" ask Jacob. He turns around to find the four boys staring at him patiently.

"Of course not," says Blaine. "Im not going to stoop to Puckermans level."

The boys exchange glances for a second. They really do look identical, almost as if they have the same mother who bought the exact same clothes for them. Blaine notices the boy, Kurt Hummel, at the other end of the cafeteria packing his things away.

"So, after school today?" ask Jacob.

"What?" says Blaine irritably as he is about to go after the boy.

"Fighting lessons," whispers Jacob so quietly it was almost as if he was talking to a mouse.

"Oh- yeah. After school, and do not let anyone know. Got it?"

"Yes boss," says Jacob, his smile wide with excitement that resembles his friends as well.

"Dont call me that. See you guys," wavers Blaine as he rushes back to the table where Kurt has just only stood up. He pulls a small smile as Blaine arrives back at the table.

"Sorry," says Blaine. "Couldnt just sit back and watch the show like everyone else."

"No, I get it. You like to help people," tells Kurt. "I should take a few tips from you actually. Everyone should, in fact."

"Or the jocks could stop being a destructive force to the universe," shrugs Blaine.

"That too. Are you gonna do it? Tryout?"

"Why would I?" ask Blaine.

"I dont know? Seems like youd be good at something like that-- tackling people."

"I dont have anything to prove to those assholes," says Blaine.

"Sure, maybe you dont-- but maybe something to prove to them? That theyre not the toughest guys in school. Im of course not pressuring you or anything, but its just- theyve never actually challenged anyone to a game before for Puck to prove something to the student body. I think he feels that he has lost his rank when everybody saw that video. This was clearly his way of showing to the school that hes still a bad ass. Maybe somebody ought to slap him back to reality..or tackle him back to reality rather," says the boy.

Blaine considers those words for awhile-- to bring the harsh reality back to the jocks. It was so tempting to smack that kid Puckerman again. That boy irked him like nobody has ever before, but was it really wise given the time span he had with this mission? All his time hear should be focused on getting closer to the kid. He did not want to stray away from the objective, but by the same token his intuition was always to stick up and protect the good and innocent people. This challenged proposed by Puckerman held the best opportunity.

"I dont know what Im saying. Sorry," says the boy in embarrassment. "I have to get going. See you later."

He waves at the boy as he scurries out the door and to his next class, which was ridiculous considering he too had the same class as the boy. He glanced over to the AVA club who were now packing away their books and laptops and what looks like an alien communication device. The boy, Jacob notices him staring so he approaches Blaine.

"Thanks again- for pulling me out of the trash," says the boy.

"No problem," smiles Blaine.

"Well see you later? At the garage behind the school?"

"Yeah, and remember-"

"Dont let anyone know. Got it," says Jacob.

-----------

As Blaine makes his way to the garage when the dismissal bell goes off, he feels the vibration in his pocket and quickly slides into an empty classroom, knowing full well it is Carl. "Whats up?" ask Blaine as he shuts the door behind him, checking through the blinders to make sure nobody saw or is eavesdropping on him.

"I have some rather-- interesting information," says Carl.

"Go on with it," says Blaine.

"Well, I checked through the medical records of Lucius Dame, you know for further intel on the man, and it writes here that he was warded into the General Hospital of Lima, Ohio a few weeks before Elizabeth was murdered," tells Carl.

"What? He was here even before she was killed?" says Blaine, his voice riddled with disbelief and shock.

"Yes, but whats interesting though was the person who signed his release form. He was admitted from a broken finger or whatever, but his sister came down and sign the release forms."

"How is that even remotely interesting? Hospitals need family members to sign off for their patients."

"Yes, but his sisters name is Lucinda Belle Puckerman."

"Wait- Puckerman?" says Blaine, his insides once again turning cold as ice as he remembers that name.

"And as I see in my records here, there is a kid that goes to McKinley High School by the name of Noah Puckerman-- nephew to Lucius."

"Youre kidding."

"Im not," says Carl. "You dont happen to know the boy, would you?"

In that second, Noah Puckerman himself walks by the room and heads for his locker. Blaine watches the kid, his eyebrows furrow, eyes dark and full of mystery, his bad guy bravado intact. Clearly the apple did not fall far from the tree.

"Oh yeah, I know him alright," says Blaine, clenching his fist at the simply sight of someone who could be involved in Elizabeth murder.

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