"Did you do it?" Six eyes had been locked on Kurt the second he entered the lab.

Kurt was completly devastated over loosing Rachel and Santanas third degree was the last thing he needed. "Yes, she wont be a problem anymore." He mourned, looking away. Two arms wrapped around his waist and he could smell Lucky Charms and fondue; Brittany.

Arties wheel chair sulked over to his computer and turned it on. "Okay, are we ready to do this?" Nobody looked at Kurt, but he knew they were asking him.

"Yeah, go ahead."

A fist slammed down on the desk, evoking a loud crack and a distressed squeak from the rickety table. "What the hell is this?"

"I dont know, sir." The small intern cowered. "I-I think its a message." 

"Well, what does it mean?" The big man bellowed. The intern stammered, glancing from the screen to his bored doodles and back to his boss. An interns job is to watch the monitor for any illegal activity in the country, someone traversing to other universes or back in time, which is signified by a green dot. If he sees anything, he just records the address and presses the button, sending the information to the important people without cubicles. Decoding was not in his job title, but he had a feeling today would be a little different.

"I think it says, hi Mr. Barrow..." 

"But why?" Steve Barrow, bureau head and founder, demanded.

The small college kid shrunk in his roller chair. "I dont know." Mr. Barrows hand slammed down on the table again.

"Dammit." He muttered. Without any warning, the screen changed. All of the green dots vanished and new ones reappeared. They were, much like the first ones, strategically placed through out the city in a way that formed letters when the dots were connected.

We need to talk. -BAKS

Barrow ran a hand down his face. "Not them again." He huffed. Then all the dots vanished, leaving one blinking green light. "Press the button." Barrow barked at the intern, turning to leave and assemble a group to investigate. A shaking pale hand pressed down on the large black button.

"How long do we have?" Kurt asked, gearing up. The notorious gang of outlaws, nicknamed BAKS (Brittany, Artie, Kurt, Santana), were mastering the art of playing with fire. It had been a drawn out scheme, keeping them quite for years as they set it up. A hundred portals placed around the United States, like band kids on a marching field. They were all programmed to send a dozen red and yellow roses to specific points in history—the holocaust, slave trade, 9/11— when Artie keyed in the command. They knew it wouldnt be long until the bureau, led by Barrow, would be at their door. The final portal theyd set off was from their very own lab. It was the only bouquet of both red and yellow roses.

Artie looked at the large screen. "Not long." Kurt glanced at the clock and tucked a sia sword into each boot. He watched Santana reach for a dagger. The sound of footsteps pounding on the ground outside made the two glance nervously at each other. Here we go, Kurt thought, while Artie and Brittany took cover. They might be the brains of the operations, but Kurt and Santana were the faces.

The door was kicked open, the knob splintering off, and at least twenty armed men marched in, followed by Barrow. The group surrounded Kurt and Santana, guns aimed at them. Like theyd planned, the two put their hands up in surrender. They werent looking for a fight, but they were prepared if it came to that.

"I thought youd come alone." Santana tested him.

Barrow rolled his bulging eyes. They always looked like they were about to pop out of his head, especially when he was dealing with a BAKS case. "You wanted to talk?"

"We want to make a bit of trade." Kurt said, retrieving the small box from his pocket. All of the guns darted to him, fingers poised over the triggers at his slightest move. He held it up to show them it posed no threat, then tossed it to Barrow. It was barley bigger than his thumb. Inside the box was a chip programmed for the first time machine ever built. It also contained the only blueprints that the bureau hadnt confiscated or destroyed. "Its yours, if youre willing to trade us for it."

"Whats stopping me from taking it and running?" Barrow threatened. 

Kurt resisted the urge to grab his swords, but Santana had it under control. "Because youre curious. You want to know what we are asking for." The truth was they didnt know that. If he left now theyd be out of barter. "And youre going to give it to us."

Barrow raised a large eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I believe you mean, who is it."