As much as Kurt loves him, Santana had a point, that was a lot of money, and who knows what they could do with it. No! Blaine thought harshly. Kurt is mine! He can't be with some other guy. No matter what the price!

Standing from his desk, Blaine made up his mind. He was gonna make sure no one would ever buy Kurt ever again.

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Blaine swore if he was ever to have a meeting with the mafia, it wouldn't be have as nerve racking as meeting the one Sue Sylvester. Her office was small and dark; filled with awards and pictures all from her past achievements. Her assistant, Becky, was standing behind his chair, her clipboard tucked perfectly under her arms.

"Well, Mr. Curley Q, how can I be of service today?" Sue asked, linking her fingers together as she reclined in her chair.

Blaine cleared his throat, leaning forward. "Well, you see Ms. Sylvester."

"Stop right there Brown Carrot Top," Sue lifted a hand, stopping him. "You don't know me or my family, and you do not work for me. So if you're going to address me, do it by either just Sylvester, Caption Doom, or Lieutenant Whiplash."

"Only I can call her Coach." Becky says aloud.

"That's right, Becky."

"Well . . . Sylvester . . . It just so happens that I'm dating one of your performers. Kurt Hummel?"

"Ahh, so you're Porcelains piece of man candy. I always thought he was more into the rough, bad boy type. Instead he goes with a pretty boy." Sue shook her head, disappointed.

"Yes . . . Well, its come to my attention that, although he refuses any . . . sexual contact, with any of the clients, that someone as offered to pay triple the normal rate for a night."

"That's classified information," Sue says. "Who told this to you."

"Is it true or not, Sylvester?"

Sue sighed, standing from her chair and walking around her office, looking longingly at her awards. "It just so happens a certain client of mine as requested to have Porcelain all to himself to the night. The amount, well that's none of your business."

"Well, what if Por-Kurt, doesn't want to do it?"

"That, my little hobbit, would be simply impossible. You see all my girls sign a contract, saying unless they were in a certain danger, they must do everything the boss; i.e. me, tells them to do. And since the man is willing to pay so high, it would be foolish to turn it down."

"Sylvester, I don't mean to be rude, but Kurt and I, we're in a committed relationship."

"Awe, that's sweet. But it just so happens that Porcelain and I have had a committed relationship before you even stepped your gel head into my club. So when it really comes down to it, I'm the one he's going to choose."

"Is there anyway I can get you to change your mind?"

"Unless you can top my first offer, there's nothing you can do. Now, if you'd please excuse me, I have to go talk to a girl about losing five pounds in one week. She has a great body, but her legs jiggle faster then jelly whenever she's dancing around a pole. Disgusting."

And then the small lit bulb went on above Blaine's head. It wasn't a full proof plan and he was about sixty percent sure it'd blow up in his face, but it would work.

"What would you say to getting twenty-five thousand dollars?"

Sue stopped and thought about it. "Keep talking."

"You get all of it, but, you have to take Kurt off everything. No dancing with clients. No chit chatting. No flirting. Just perform on stage and that's it."

"What is the point of him working here if that's all he's gonna do?" Sue questioned.

"Lemme see what they can't have. They'll keep coming back if they can see him perform. You know that."

"Do you have any idea what kind of deal you're making?"

"I love him, and I will do anything for him. Even keep him to myself. Do we have a deal?"

Sue was silent for a moment, her eyes never leaving Blaine's.

"Come back in three days with the cash and I'll have a contract worked up for you to sign."

Blaine smiled from ear to ear, coming to his feet. "Thank you so much!"

"Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here. I have things to do and girls to make cry." Blaine stood and reached for Sue's head. "Not yet, Shorty. Not until the paper has been filed and I'm rolling in my wade of cash."

Retracting his hand, Blaine nods his head, bidding the ladies goodbye. Once outside, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the number. It rang twice before picking up.

"Hello, Ernie? Yeah, its Blaine Anderson, from Metro? Its nice to talk to you too. Look, remember that guitar you had your eye on? Well, I think I can make you a deal you just can't refuse."