The bloke near the door lumbered to his feet, pulled his gun from his holster, and tugged the door open cautiously. On the other side stood a small, pathetic looking boy whose eyes were focused solely on the pistol in the man's grasp. With a grunt the giant man grabbed the scruff of the boy's neck and tugged him into the room so forcefully that he fell to the ground with a soft cry, messing up the knees of his prep school slacks.

"You one of Spine's boys?" The head honcho hissed, lifting his thin eyebrows at the kid.

"Y-Yeah," The boy stammered, his eyes wide. He was new to the operation, this was obviously his initiation, poor kid.

Silence fell in the room and the boy staggered to his feet. He looked like all the other kids. Attractive but painfully innocent, the last kind of kid anyone would expect to be associated with this sort of crowd. Finally one of the men stood and held his hand out to the boy who seemed to light up a moment later with realization and tugged a folder from his back pack and handed it over. It was dark blue with the crest of a school emblazoned on the front.

The head honcho took it and skimmed through the papers with thinly veiled glee on his face. He snapped the folder shut and shoved it towards the smaller, but not least deadly looking of the group, who tucked it safely away in a briefcase. "Tell Spine he and his crew did a great job this time. Here's the first half of his money, he'll get the rest later,"

The boy took the packet of money with shaking hands and tucked it into a hidden pocket on the inside of his messenger bag. He bowed awkwardly at the men and waited for one of the cronies to open the door for him. The second he'd disappeared the head honcho looked to the thugs at his right and spoke evenly. "Follow him, you know the drill. If he does anything against Spine's plan, get rid of him,"

Both nodded in tandem and left the room, following the boy at a safe distance out of the warehouse and back to the docks.

He walked at a brisk pace, his steps almost a tick in his hurry to get back to the safety of crowds and the confines of his car. His father didn't know where he was and he hadn't told him about what he was doing. He'd planned on saying something after his initiation because he knew his father would be happy about him being admitted to one of the most prestigious secret clubs of Crawford Academy.

The only thing that he hadn't expected was being forced to do something illegal for initiation. He'd though it was going to be something simple, like hazing, not carrying information to a very rough looking bunch of guys. He found his mind straying back to the new dark haired kid in his Psych class who had encouraged him to talk to someone if he was scared. He'd even given him a card with a number to call.

The boy shoved his hand into his pants pocket and pulled his cell phone out, staring at the screen nervously. The number had already been programmed in; all he had to do was press 'send'. His thumb hovered over the green call button before twitching down to touch it. He got to his sleek car and slipped in, locking the doors as the phone rang and rang until finally he reached a pleasant male's voice saying. "Leave a message at the tone," there was a beep and he started speaking.

"I don't even know who I'm talking to but I was told I could call here if I needed help, and I do. My name is Seamus Roan and I think I just did something very bad. I don't want to really go into it right now, but I was hoping we could meet," He rambled off his number as there was a knock at the window. He looked up at the two men leering at him though the glass. He cursed loudly and dropped his phone on the passenger side and turned his car on, making his car's gears scream viciously. Throwing his car into reverse he tried to get away quickly.

Without blinking the men turn, took their stances and shot out the tires. The car veered dangerously and crashed into the wall of a cement building. Air bags deployed and they hurried to take care of the boy. He was still unconscious as they approached and stared up at them in terror as they lifted their guns and shot him through the glass.

"Should we leave it?" The shorter of the two asked.

"Make it look like a gang fight. They're everywhere here, just like cockroaches," The other replied dismissively, testing the handle in a tired fashion. When he found it was locked he went to work picking it while the other waited to get inside, idly staring at the body of the boy staring at his dashboard with empty eyes.

He grunted and murmured. "Too bad. He could have been one of Spine's best runners," the other laughed ruthlessly and started to set up the scene of the crime.

[x][x][x]

"I don't see why you're so set on using Kurt," Blaine grumbled, flinging himself into one of the plush chairs across from Wes's desk.

Wes folded his hands diplomatically. "He's the best choice. He fits their requirements and since you don't, he'll be a good way to wedge your way in. You know that I'm right Blaine,"

With a growl Blaine tugged off his tie and let it hand around his shoulders. "Kurt could die, just like Seamus,"

"You'll be there to keep that from happening. Seamus was a mistake, sure, but it had to happen. Now we have more reason to check the Bonekeepers out," Wes replied as David slid his way into the office, official looking papers tucked under his arm.

Blaine cast a mournful glance at the headline splashed across the front of the newspaper, 'LocalCrawfordBoykilledbyGangViolence,'. It showed the smashed up vehicle from behind, hiding the massive amount of blood that had been splattered across the front. "I was the one who encouraged him to talk," Blaine murmured, self-loathing evident in his voice.

"Yes, and because of that we have an incredible recording to use as evidence. We're lucky he decided it was bad enough to call your number. Yes, I am sorry that we had to lose an innocent in the process, but we've made progress," David replied evenly, touching his friend's shoulder.

Blaine shuddered and David's hand curled a little tighter around Blaine's shoulder as there was a soft knock on the door. "Enter," Wes called stately. Kurt poked his head through the opening in the door and grinned at the three men, striding his way to where Blaine was seated and coming to rest on the arm to the chair.

"You know, that Thayne," Kurt started and was quickly corrected by David.

"Thad,"

"Yes, him. He rules that reception area with an iron fist. I couldn't remember the password right off the top of my head and he sat there and glared at me until I got it correct,"

David cleared his throat softly. "Well, there was an incident with his predecessor and he's been determined to not let it happen again." Kurt's mouth formed a perfect 'O' and he nodded in understanding and let his eyes slide over and down to fall on Blaine.

Blaine gazed up at Kurt, taking in his whole attire. He was dressed from head to toe in designer flair, wearing clothes that Blaine was sure probably came straight from Paris or Milan. He grinned a little shyly at Blaine, seeming to realize that he should have asked if it was fine to be sitting there before he settled.

It had been almost two weeks since they'd seen each other face to face, but they had taken to texting one another constantly. It was a sort of comfort to them, to have someone else to talk to that was fairly sane. Sure, Blaine loved hanging out with the other guys from the 'Warblers' and often went out to get drinks with them, but Kurt was like a breath of fresh air with a great, snarky sense of humor.

Wes cleared his throat openly and broke them out of their moment. Both heads snapped forward to face the head of the Dalton Agency who looked all too amused with the interaction he had just witnessed, "Kurt, as you heard a few weeks ago when Blaine called you, we need you to do some undercover work for us,"

Kurt nodded and settled back a little against Blaine's shoulder and clasped his hand around his knee, settling in for a long description. Wes got up and circled around his desk to lean against the edge in front of the two men with David at his side. "You read about the boy that was in the headlines earlier?" Kurt nodded.

"The one killed by gang violence," Kurt supplied helpfully.

"Well, he wasn't involved in that sort of gang violence. Instead he was attempting to be a part of this secret society at Crawford Academy and decided to go against the rules that had been set out for him. You see, he was trying to get into this exclusive group called the Bonekeepers. Up until two or three years ago it was a club known for doing stupid stunts and causing problems. Now, a new regime has set in and we think that these boys are passing information to very bad people. Gun runners, drug gangs, mobs, the list goes on, and in return they get money. Their MO is to use innocent looking boys to run the information because they're least likely to get picked up,"

Kurt's brows scrunched together trying to piece all this information together. David decided to take pity on him and explain Wes's plan a little better. "We need you to go undercover as a student there," At Kurt's shocked expression Wes nodded and continued speaking.

"This is not the most ideal of circumstances but because of Mr. Roan's death a spot has opened up at Crawford and because it is such a high profile school people are scrambling to drop their kids off there. We have already signed you up and you start next Monday. You look very young for your age and will look even younger in a uniform,"

Kurt glanced over to Blaine then back at Wes. "Not that I'm not thrilled at the thought of being able to work with you lovely men again, but what about Blaine?"

Blaine took that moment to speak up. "I've been there two weeks already and I'm not their type of boy. What we need is someone who will be invaluable to them that will be able to use their leverage to get me into their circle,"

"That would be you. Once you find your way into the group we'll be able to get Blaine in and then go from there," Wes said as David handed over a couple full page glossy photos. "These are the three ring leaders; Billy Lenore, Jamie Melrose, Philip Jackson. Jamie and Billy have fathers high up in society but Jamie's dad is the only one with a slightly shady background and history with drugs. Philip is the wild card, but he's incredibly smart,"

Blaine sighed and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. "Those boys are nightmares to deal with. They rule the school and take no prisoners. I'm pretty sure none of them really know I exist yet because they go off of physical attributes before going in to look at personality,"

Kurt glanced down at Blaine and took in the handsome dip of his nose and remarkably long eyelashes. "And they' don't like your appearance?"

Blaine cracked one eye open. "Nope, too dark, too short, I stand out from the crowd a little too much in the wrong way."

"And I'm the complete opposite of Blaine so you want me to get their attention?" Kurt asked and Wes nodded once. "How am I supposed to get Blaine in?"

David crossed his legs slowly and looked down at his shiny shoes. He took a moment before looking up was the corner of his lips quirked. "You have a smart head on your shoulders and you'll be able to keep Blaine in check. Blaine doesn't work well with any of our other trained operatives," There was a grunt of annoyance from Blaine but Wes ignored him. "You're going to have to make yourself indispensable to the Bonekeepers so you can use that leverage to get Blaine in. He'll help you do what they ask without any problems,"

"Do you want us to, y'know, report to you?" Kurt asked, shifting slightly so his hip was resting firmly against Blaine's shoulder. Blaine didn't twitch away and even seemed to move closer slightly.

"You will. Blaine's going to be staying on the campus so you'll be able to leave without suspicion. I'll be coming by your house to get the reports from you because it'll be too suspicious for you to come here, just in case they decide to follow you once in a while," Wes replied as there was another knock on the door.

Jeff popped his head into the room and his eyes immediately settled upon Kurt and his face bloomed into an incredibly handsome grin. "Hey Kurt! Good seeing you again!" Kurt grinned back at the blond man as Wes's eyebrow lifted only slightly.

"Is there something you need Jeff?" Wes prompted.

Jeff nodded emphatically. "Trent's here from the D.C. branch. He wants to know where you want him to set up,"

Wes pushed off from the edge of the desk. "Tell him to wait just a few more minutes. I'll come and show him myself," Jeff nodded and looked back to Kurt.

"Hey, we're all planning on going out for drinks tonight? Wanna come?"

Kurt stared at Jeff blankly until he realized that Jeff wasn't joking. "Um, tonight I can't. I have to call Mercedes and talk to her about the spring styles,"

Jeff sighed and shrugged. "Too bad man. How 'bout when you finish up this assignment? We'll all go out," Kurt nodded once and Jeff disappeared.

"Well, that's about it. Blaine needs to return to the school because he has a test to study for." Blaine groaned softly and sunk his face into his hands but Wes ignored him and continued on. "Kurt, I'll come by your house tomorrow with your uniform and extra information. What time would be good?" Wes said, shrugging on his work jacket with the help of David.

"The house should be empty around noon if you want to come then?" Kurt offered. Wes nodded once and waited for the two men to get to their feet before shuffling them out of the office. David grinned at Kurt in parting and went to his desk to finish up some work and before Kurt knew it he was alone with Blaine.

Kurt looked around at the busy office anxiously. "So, Monday then?"

Blaine smiled affectionately at Kurt. "Are you nervous?" Kurt shook his head once and then corrected himself, nodding once awkwardly. "Don't worry. It won't be that bad. These undercover jobs are never that bad. I've been bored out of my mind the past couple weeks that I've been stationed there. We're dealing with preppy private school boys, how dangerous can they be?" Blaine laughed brilliantly and put his hand on the small of Kurt's back, propelling him through the maze of cubicles.

Kurt was wholly aware of the warmth of the hand on his back but didn't say anything in case it made Blaine take his hand away. They walked in silence all the way out of the office, through the hidden lift, and past the watchful eyes of Thad. Outside Blaine turned to Kurt and grinned at him. "I'll see you Monday at school," he took Kurt's hand, squeezed it and hurried off to his car which wasn't the one Kurt remembered seeing him drive. It was sleek and red and very obvious and just seemed wrong for Blaine to be driving it. His Porsche was his baby…

Kurt tossed the thought to the side and crawled into his Navigator. Once he was back home he had a few hours to himself before his father came home from the shop and only a matter of minutes before Carole arrived home. Finn wasn't going to be joining them for dinner because he was spending the day with his, in Kurt's opinion, incredibly high maintenance girlfriend. At the dinner table the conversation was light and cheery. Towards the end Carole brought up Blaine, or the 'Porsche guy' as his father called him.

"Have you heard from that lovely young man with the pretty silver car?" Carole asked pleasantly. Kurt swallowed hard and thought quickly.

"We text a lot. His work schedule keeps him insanely busy so we can't talk much," Kurt replied, a sweet but very cautious smile on his lips.

Burt stared at Kurt hard over his fork. "He drives a Porsche right? Did you know you can tell a lot from a person by what car they drive?" Kurt groaned but Burt continued to talk over him. "Where does he work that he can't come and pay more attention to you?"

Kurt felt his ears burn. "Dad, you know that I am no longer in high school right?" Burt didn't reply and continued to scare so Kurt felt obligated to murmur. "He does mainly freelance work and he's a singer in a local a cappella group. We're not even dating though dad. He just took me to one dinner-"

Burt rolled his eyes tiredly. "So he's a singer. Does he know you can sing too?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, it hasn't come up in our text conversations. I don't even know what he sounds like," Burt grunted and shoved a carrot forcefully into his mouth.

Carole watched her husband fondly and chuckled. "Well, when he gets the chance you should invite him to dinner," Kurt nodded once, giving them a tight smile as his phone went off.

"That's Mercedes. The fashion empire calls. Great dinner Carole," Kurt chirruped, picking up his phone and his plate and hurrying out of the dining room. He answered his phone and dumped his plate into the sink. "Hey Mercedes,"

"It's about time I heard your voice boo," Mercedes cooed into his ear. She was his right hand woman in New York, helping him keep his head while he was drowning in chiffon, synthetic materials, and unpleasant models. She was also the one who had requested he take time off to go and get out of New York for an undisclosed time, so Kurt guessed he had Mercedes to thank for his clandestine meeting with Blaine.

"You too! How goes the world?" Kurt asked as he mounted the steps, heading up to his old room.

"Tiring. I may need to switch places with you for a while. I can stay with your parents while you come back and deal with the new styles for this season. How is your break going? Meet anyone interesting?"

Kurt cleared his throat and shut his door soundly. "You could say that," He hedged.

Mercedes gasped on the other end. "Who is it? Is he hot? Spill everything,"

Kurt laughed and gave her the basics about Blaine, trying to stay honest but not give too much information. "His name is Blaine and he sings. We met at the train station and he's very gentlemanly in a short, dark, and handsome way. We've only been on one date, if you can even call it that, but we text constantly, I don't even know if he's being kind or if he's interested. I've met some of his friends who seem to all be from work but are incredibly accepting of his sexuality,"

Mercedes whistled appreciatively and Kurt settled at his desk to boot his computer up. "Well, if he's not interested then he's mad," Kurt didn't reply at first as he waited for his desktop to come up.

"We'll see. I'm not getting my hope up, we know how that ends up when I do, but I will tell you if there's any development," there was a soft muttered threat of "You'dbetter" as he went into his email. "Okay, so, talk to me about these sun dresses."

Wes arrived at precisely noon when the Hummel/Hudson household was empty with a box under one arm and a briefcase in the other hand. Kurt met him at the front door and showed him to the living room where Wes set the giant box on the coffee table and motioned for Kurt to open it. Inside was settled a uniform of dark blue and gold with a prestigious looked crest on the pocket of the blazer. Kurt wrinkled his nose at it.

"It looks incredibly stuffy," Kurt remarked snidely.

"It is. Blaine's been complaining about it for weeks. Make sure it fits. We had your measurements on file, but I just wanted to make sure that it achieves the effect we're looking for," Wes replied, reclining against the back of the chair he was in and taking his I-Phone from his pocket.

Kurt bundled up the outfit and trundled into a bathroom where he changed into the uniform. Glancing at himself in the full length mirror he was amazed to see that it actually made him look at least five years young, almost like a teenager. The whole thing was rather unnerving, but it fit Kurt perfectly. When he came back to the living room dressed in the uniform Wes looked him over with an appraising eye and nodded once.

"Perfect. Just what we were looking for, and your voice is high enough that it can easily pass off as still in the transition from puberty, no offence-" Wes amended but Kurt waved him off, checking his lapel.

"It's nothing I haven't heard before. So I just have to show up to school and try and get into this club? The Bonekeepers?"

Wes nodded and took out a piece of paper from his briefcase and handed it over. "We've tailored your classes so that they'll put you with Mr. Jackson and Mr. Melrose. You'll also have two classes with Blaine so you'll be able to converse without suspicion," Kurt took the paper and checked it over. The classes were all very reminiscent of his classes in high school. "Also, you'll need these too," Wes said as he tossed a ring of keys at Kurt.

"What are these?" Kurt asked, holding them up to inspect them.

"The keys to your apartment." Kurt's attention snapped up to the man who stared back placidly. "The agency has stock in a few homes and apartments just for this reason. We don't want anyone who might be suspicious of you following you here and ruining your covers by seeing for father or anyone else. For the next week or so you will stay there,"

Kurt quirked up an eyebrow. "And how am I supposed to explain this to my family?"

Wes shrugged unhelpfully. "You'll think of something. A fashion convention or something, it doesn't have to be big, just something that's going to take you out of the state for a while. We've also given you a new identity as Kurt Hudmel from New York State. Your parents are doctors who wanted to get you a chance for proper schooling before starting at Harvard. It'll all in here. Learn it, memorize it, then burn it all except for your school I.D. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the Agency. Have fun at school on Monday. We'll be in contact with you later to check your progress,"

He turned to leave and then stopped. "One more thing Kurt, it's about stage two." Kurt flipped open the folder Wes indicated and had him read over the procedure. Kurt felt the tips of his ears grow hot and looked up to Wes who had a very serious expression on his face. Wes quickly explained what the whole point of stage two was. When he finished Kurt nodded once after hesitating slightly. Wes gave Kurt a slight smile, grasped Kurt's had, and said farewell.

Kurt saw him to the door and then rushed up the stairs to change his outfit and pack some essentials. There were instructions to the apartment in the folder along with a few other papers about 'Kurt Hudmel from New York's' background. The profile matched Kurt incredibly well and unnerved him that the people at Dalton Agency had actually been able to come up with this much information about him. There were also plans for step by step instructions of what he wanted Kurt to do and how he wanted him to act around Blaine.

When his father got home he frowned at the suitcase at the base of the stairs. "But you just got home," He exclaimed.

"I know, and it should only be for a week, maybe a little more. Apparently Mercedes can't handle this next season's styles. They're pretty intricate that I need to head back to help. I promise I'll check in constantly,"

Burt crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "Do you have to leave now?"

"I had to get the first ticket back to New York. It's leaving in an hour. I just wanted to tell you what's happening," Kurt replied, flicking his jacket over his arm. "I promise, I'll be right back home once I finish up in New York," he hugged his dad tightly and grabbed up his stuff so that he could rush out to the taxi waiting outside that Wes had apparently sent for him.

There had been a note in the folder saying that he shouldn't drive the Navigator and there would be a car waiting for him at the apartment. He settled in the back seat, handed the address to the cabby and waved to his dad from the window.

They left the city fairly quickly after that and headed to the next town over where Crawford was located. The apartment that the cabby stopped in front of was a very fancy looking building, almost like a townhouse. It had gingerbread edging and looking incredibly wholesome. Kurt thanked the cabby and paid him with the money that Wes had supplied him, hurrying up the steps and trying the key. The lock clicked open and he let himself into the fully furnished house.

It was deathly silent inside the building and a set of instructions about how to care for the building had been left for Kurt against the refrigerator door. He unpacked his stuff quickly and ordered in pizza, settling down to watch Project Runway. Close to midnight his phone rang and displayed an unknown number. "Hello?" He asked carefully.

"Hey," Kurt felt his face immediately color at the sound of Blaine's voice. "I was just calling to make sure you were ready for tomorrow,"

"Yeah, all set. Excited even. Does this whole undercover thing usually make you this excited?" Kurt asked, switching off the television set and heading upstairs to the room he'd claimed as his.

"It used to, when I first started. Sometimes if it's a job I haven't done before I get that fluttery feeling. I don't know if you'll have time to get used to it though," Blaine breathed and Kurt wondered if he was hiding under the covers of his room.

"What do you mean not enough time?" Kurt asked, kicking off his slippers and turning off the light to the room.

"Well, this isn't your full time profession. You're a designer. You're going to have return to New York eventually," Blaine replied softly and Kurt wondered if he was imagining the slight note of regret in Blaine's voice.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he murmured, snuggling under the covers of the foreign bed.

"So, just enjoy this job. It's going to be an easy one, fun maybe. Then when it's over you'll get to experience the feeling that comes with a job well done," There was a pause on Blaine's end then he whispered, "I think my roomie's back. I'll see you tomorrow, good night Kurt. Sleep well," He whispered and Kurt let the voice wash over him before repeating Blaine's words to him and hanging up, curling into a ball and hugging his phone to him.

To say he was anxious for the next morning was an understatement.