Blaine sighed and closed the door behind the officers. While they seemed sympathetic to the situation, they didn't feel the situation was a promising one. All they had to go on was a soiled picture and a virtually nameless internet fan. It wasn't much to go on, but they promised to do their best to get to the bottom of the situation.

Kurt believed that the officers would do their best, but he also knew that it was a long shot. That, coupled with the fact that he now had to explain the entire situation to his boyfriend put him on edge. "So...do you want to tell me what all this was about?" The professor asked. The frantic phone call earlier that evening provided minimal details.

"Not really." Kurt whispered. Blaine sighed and plopped down on the couch next to his boyfriend. When he realized that his boyfriend was not going to look away from the empty spot on the wall, he scooted closer. They were going to talk whether Kurt wanted to or not.

After an extended silence, Blaine grew restless and spoke up. "You need to tell me what's going on. All you told me on the phone was that some guy gave you crap during your show and that someone broke into your house. I know there's a story behind all this and I would really like to hear it."

The professor watched anxiously as his boyfriend drew his knees up onto the couch and towards his chest. The performer wrapped his arms around his calves and propped his head on his knees. Once he was completely curled into himself, he allowed himself to meet his boyfriend's gaze. "It's stupid." He whispered.

Blaine couldn't believe his ears. The situation wasn't stupid; it was serious. As quickly as he could, the professor stood from his seat and relocated to the coffee table spot in front of his boyfriend. He knew Kurt hated it –'Furniture tables are meant to be used for eating and holding things. Since I'm not eating or holding your ass, keep it off my table'- but he didn't care. Kurt was shutting down. That was never a good sign.

"Kurt," He began. "It's not stupid. This is serious and I wish you'd talk to me about it."

Kurt sighed. "Fine. There is a guy, on the site, and he has been harassing me for months. He wants me to do a private session for him; arealprivate session. I always refuse and now he's-" The performer slung his arm around the room. "-yeah."

"Have you told anyone about him?" His boyfriend asked a moment later. Kurt shook his head. He'd kept the entire situation to himself. "You should have. You should have told me. We could have worked through this together."

The performer shook his head violently. "No! I was trying to handle it myself. I didn't want to freak you out, so I handled it....kind of."

Blaine was taken aback by his boyfriend's words. "Freak me out? Kurt! I'm your boyfriend; I'm supposed to freak out over you."

"I didn't want you to get so freaked out that you decided to leave me." Blaine groaned.We're back at thisagain. "And before you say it, I know this would have turned you off to the idea of being with me. Who wants to be with a guy that has some weirdo messing with him?"

"ME!" The professor insisted. "Listen, I know you have issues with people leaving, but not me. I'm not going anywhere. So, stop worrying and start talking!"

Shyly, Kurt smiled up at his boyfriend. "Promise?" He needed to know. He was hardwired to believe that everyone left from time to time.

Blaine smirked and slid his arms around his boyfriend's body. "Promise. Now...explain; properly this time." Kurt took a deep breath and told his boyfriend everything. From start to finish, he explained the entire sordid tale of his interactions with NEPats. By the end, the performer was crying and his boyfriend was shaking from rage. It took every ounce of restraint Blaine had not to storm out of the house and go find his boyfriend's 'fan' himself.

"I just hope they can figure out who he is." Kurt whispered as he wiped the pooling tears from his eyes. Blaine hoped so too because, if they didn't, he would.

After a few loose ends were tied, the couple packed Kurt's clothes and headed to Blaine's house. It was a no brainer that Kurt would be staying with his boyfriend until the situation was taken care of. It was also a no brainer that Kurt would not be working until the situation was taken care of. Thus, he was going to be broke and homeless before he knew it.Exciting!

Against his better judgment, he contacted his father and let him know that there was a possibility that he would need money in the future. "Someone made a disrespectful comment to me and I yelled back. Work didn't like that, so I'm suspended indefinitely." He lied. After a back and forth between each of the Hummels – Burt looking for any and every reason to crack heads at Kurt's imaginary job and Kurt insisting that the situation was handled- the performer hung up and grabbed his bags. It was time to head to Blaine's house.

That night, after what was an incredibly emotional day, the couple made love. It was slow, sweet, and just what the pair needed to come down from a pressing day. The two became one mind, body, and spirit as they poured every ounce of trust, love, and passion they had for each other into the intimate pleasures of the night. The pair came together before falling asleep in each other's arms. The stress from recent events was lifted and both men slept peacefully. It was the perfect ending to a less than perfect day.

Early the next morning, Blaine was awoken by the ringing of his phone. It was becoming a constant occurrence in his house. Twice in the past week he'd been woken up by a phone call, unsettling was the fact that both calls were unusual.

"Hello." He mumbled into his phone; voice laced with sleep. "Yeah. Yeah. I'll be there shortly." Blaine disconnected the call and rolled over in his bed. Curled with his back facing his boyfriend was Kurt. He was lucky enough to find the serenity in sleep that had eluded him the day before. "Baby." Blaine whispered as he shook his boyfriend's shoulder.

Kurt groaned but did not make an actual attempt to wake from his slumber. Blaine continued to try until his boyfriend announced that he was awake. "Kurt, I have to go. I'll be back soon, okay?" Kurt mumbled and nodded cuddled closer to his pillow. It was just as well. Blaine saw no reason to wake Kurt up when he was about to leave.

As quickly and quietly as possible, Blaine dressed and dashed out the front door. He had a meeting with the Dean of Faculty and he didn't want to be late.

Dean Prichard. Richard Prichard. That's a stupid name.The thought continued to run through Blaine's head as he pulled his car into the faculty parking lot. With a few weeks until the start of school, the professor couldn't figure out why his superior needed to see him.Shit. It's probably because I skipped that full staff meeting a few months back. What was I supposed to do though? Sex with my boyfriend or a boring staff meeting? There's no comparison. Besides, Kurt stuck his tongue in my...

"The Dean will see you now." The secretary, Sarah, advised when the professor walked into the waiting room. Startled that he hadn't realized that he was in the office, Blaine nodded dumbly. He quickly made his way through the room and into the professor's office; the door was always open.

The room was so traditional that it hurt. Often times Blaine and a fellow professor, Wes, joked that the room didn't belong at a design school because there was no design to it. It was just a room with stuffy, brown couches and an ugly desk. He remembered the time he told Kurt about the desk and the student nearly passed out in horror. It was that ugly.

"Ahhh...Professor Anderson. Why don't you have a seat?" Dean Prichard motioned to one of the chairs that sat directly in front of his desk. Dean Prichard –or Richard as Blaine's father so defiantly called him- was a stodgy, older man with a donut gut and the face of a bulldog.

Blaine sighed and took a seat. He wasn't in the mood to have a meeting with his superior; not in the slightest. "Do you know why I've called you here, Professor Anderson?" The Dean asked.

"No, sir." The young man promptly replied. It's probably because you like pissing me off AND because you're mad that I get some regularly and your wife is fucking your pool boy. "I have no idea why you've called me here."

Dean Prichard grunted and sat back in his chair. "Well, Professor Anderson," Blaine did his best not to roll his eyes. The office staff had some unspoken pact to refer to all teachers as Professor. They acted as if the instructors weren't their colleagues –as if the teachers were borderline peasants- by calling each of them Professor. Sure, Blaine loved it when his students called him Professor Anderson, but he really wished the office staff would just call him Blaine. "There have been some.....allegations made." There was a dramatic pause.

"Allegations of....?" Blaine questioned. Dean Prichard raised an accusing eyebrow. It was as if he was suggesting that Blaine should have known the allegations were about. He did –you tend to know which rules you're breaking when you're breaking them intentionally- but he didn't want to make the Dean privy to that information.

"Listen, I like you, Professor Anderson."Blaine."And I'm going to give you a chance to tell me the truth. The allegations regard you and a possible romantic relationship with a student. Is this true, Professor Anderson? Are you romantically involved with a student?"

Blaine sat back and met the Dean's glare. He knew that 'I'm going to give you a chance to tell me the truth' actually meant'I know the truth and I want to see if you're going to lie to me'. He needed to make a decision. Should he tell the truth and try to bullshit himself out of trouble or should he lie and hope the feeling of impending dread in his stomach was wrong? One look at the smug expression on Dean Prichard's face gave Blaine his answer. "So, Professor Anderson?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Blaine advised. He then sat back in his chair and studied the man. He looked contemplative. He obviously hadn't expected that answer, so he was trying to find another way to make the professor confess to a misdoing. Emily and David Anderson taught their baby boy better than that though. They taught him to always have a leg up on the competition and to never give up, even when backed into a corner. So, until they had a video that clearly showed him pile driving Kurt on top of his desk, Blaine wasn't confessing to anything.

"Really, Professor Anderson? Because we got a complaint from an anonymous source stating that such a relationship exists." The Dean shot the young man an accusing look.He knows I'm lying, but I don't care. He doesn't have anything if I don't confess.

"Andrea tells me I'm her favorite teacher." Blaine began. The Dean shot him a confused look. "She's very lovely. She has a passion for History. She's a lovelystudent." It was a stretch, but Blaine had to make it work. He'd heard the rumors about the Dean and his barely legal girlfriend and he needed them to be true in that moment. It was the only way he saw out of his mess. Fight or flight. "She said you guys met in the parking lot on her first day of classes. That's so cute!" Dean Prichard paled.Bingo.

"Now, I'm not confirming anything, I'm just saying that I know Andrea. Do you see what I'm saying?" Blaine asked. Dean Prichard cleared his throat. He was caught.

"I read you loud and clear." The man hastily grumbled. "Please try to keep your private lifeprivate, Professor Anderson. You don't have tenure at this university yet and I'd hate to see you tangled up by a technicality." Blaine nodded.

"Am I free to go?" He asked after a pregnant silence. Dean Prichard nodded and watched as the young professor scurried out of the room. Thank God that went well.