February 14th, Valentines Day

14:19 hours

Using his arms to push himself up, Blaine plopped his butt down on the kitchen counter in his condo, scrubbing his fingers through his sleep-mussed curls. The rich aroma of the coffee brewing filled the air and he inhaled deeply, anxious for his first cup. His eyes shuttered against the early afternoon sun, he felt Kurt nudge his knees apart, before arms wrapped themselves snuggly around his waist.

"Hey babe," rasped Blaine, reaching out to rest his arms on Kurts shoulders and nuzzling into the soft hair of Kurts head.

Kurt hummed a response, fingers tugging at the thick cloth of Blaines t-shirt until they could slip underneath to the heated flesh beneath.

Dropping his chin to the top of Kurts head, Blaine sighed. "Still coming with me tonight?"

"Mmmhmm," Kurt answered sleepily.

Yawning widely, Blaine shook his head trying to wake up. "Do you suppose when our kids ask how we spent our first Valentines Day together, theyll end up laughing when we tell them you went to work with me?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow at Blaine, but kept silent while he stepped back and filled a large coffee mug with the steamy dark liquid. Taking a long sip, he passed it to Blaine who blew on it gently before taking his own drink. "I think," Kurt began thoughtfully, "that our kids are going to roll their eyes at us no matter what were telling them."

Eyes catching Kurts gaze, Blaine offered a shy smile. "Probably." Blaine hesitated for a moment before finding the courage to ask, "Kurt? Do you … do you want kids? I mean, in general. Not with me. I mean, I wouldnt mind if it were with me – you know later down the road. Maybe not too much later, but I was just wondering. About kids. About how you feel."

When the wheat toast in the toaster popped up, Kurt spread peanut butter on Blaines pieces before adding a drizzle of honey to his own. Listening to Blaines nervous ramblings, Kurts smile grew until he couldnt contain a snort. "Am I really that intimidating that I still make you this nervous, honey?" he asked quietly, handing Blaine his breakfast.

Looking sheepish, Blaine placed his toast back on the counter and took Kurts chin in his fingers, rubbing them against Kurts stubble. Taking a deep, settling breath, he explained, "I say shit, and then I think to myself, Fuck, Blaine, what if he hates kids? What if every time you mention the future, it makes him want to run for the hills?"

A couple flippant remarks went through Kurts mind, but he realized at the same time that Blaine was opening himself up in a manner that wasnt typical. "Do you – in your heart – do you really feel like Id run away from you? From us? In all seriousness."

Blaine shook his head, staring at the floor. "No," he whispered, "no, I dont. I just … I worry."

Kurt leaned up to kiss Blaine softly. "Do you remember me telling you that my dreams have shifted since coming home to Lima? I dated guys when I was in New York. But after a couple years of only finding Mr. Right Now, instead of Mr. Right – I closed the door on that chapter of my life. Then, I met you. And youve handed me a whole new book, full of blank pages just waiting to be filled. I never imagined settling down and having a family."

"Oh," sighed Blaine, slipping down from the counter.

"Let me finish, handsome," Kurt insisted, blocking Blaine in with his arms. "I never imagined it – until you. The idea of kids is kinda scary – but the idea of you as a dad … kinda hot. And I think its a path that I wouldnt want to take with anyone else but you."

A million butterflies in Blaines stomach took flight. Wrapping his arms tight around Kurt, he buried his face in the crook of Kurts neck, rocking the back and forth. Lifting his head, Blaine kissed the side of Kurts neck. "Love you," he murmured. "How long do you need to get ready?

"Since I only have to impress you – and we both know youre most impressed when Im naked, covered with a light sheen of sweat – twenty minutes," teased Kurt, grinding himself lightly against Blaine.

"You do know you have to wear clothes on the ride-along, right?" snickered Blaine.

"Spoil-sport."

15:33 hours

Blaine punched the code into the key pad and opened the back door to the station house, gesturing Kurt to enter before him. "Follow me," he instructed, leading Kurt through a confusing series of hallways until they reached the locker room.

Once he was standing in front of his locker, Blaine began pulling out pieces of his uniform. "Here," he said with a wicked grin, "hold this for a moment."

Kurt took the bullet proof vest from Blaine, feeling the hefty weight. On one hand, he thought it was fairly heavy, but on the other, for as important of a job as it had, it seemed infinitely too light. "Can I try it on?" he asked Blaine quietly.

"Yeah," Blaine agreed, brushing some powder over his chest before yanking a t-shirt over his naked chest. "Let me help." The front and back of the vest were connected by large Velcro straps, so he helped Kurt swing the vest over his head on to his shoulders. Carefully, Blaine wrapped the straps around Kurts chest. "Hows that feel?" he asked.

"Weird, I guess," Kurt admitted using his knuckles to rap against the plates.

A voice from behind them called out, "You get used to it pretty quickly, Hummel. Mostly because youre too busy worrying about everything else."

Kurts eyes widened substantially. Spinning on his heel, he managed to whisper, "Dave," despite his throat tightening.

Feeling the tension in the room ratchet up exponentially, Blaine moved closer to Kurt. "Hey, Karofsky," he acknowledged, fiddling with the straps of the vest before removing it and placing it over his own chest. "How do you two know each other?" Blaine asked, hoping that one of them would answer.

Clearing his throat, Kurt turned back to Blaine, moving to the other side of Blaines locker to keep extra distance between him and the other deputy. "Dave and I went to high school together. He … played football with Finn. Among other things." The last comment was said under his breath.

Furrowing his forehead, Blaine continued to change into his uniform.

Dave walked closer to Blaine and Kurt, biting on his lower lip nervously. "Is Kurt the guy youve been talking about, Anderson?"

Nodding, Blaine toed off his shoes, kicked them into the lower part of the locker and stepped into his steel-toed uniform boots, zipping up the sides. He glanced at Kurt, noticing that Kurt was studiously reading every poster, flyer and piece of paper hung in the locker room rather than making eye contact with Karofsky.

"Look, what Hummel isnt telling you … is that I was a grade A douche bag to him in high school," Dave explained softly. At Blaines sharp glance, Dave shrugged. "He was out and proud. And I was … fucking buried in the closet with the moth balls. I hated myself and I hated that he had so much confidence in himself."

Dave glanced over at Kurt. "I owe you a hell of a lot more than just an apology, Kurt. Im sorry. More sorry than I could ever begin to express in words, especially here and right now. I just … Id like you to know that … that Im not like that anymore. Im not that person. Im sorry for every mean comment I said, every name I called you and for throwing you into the dumpsters and slamming you into lockers."

Kurt could feel the other mens eyes on him as he leaned against the cool metal of this locker room and thought about Daves apology. After some time, he raised his eyes carefully. "Its been fifteen years. I dont know about the statute of limitations on bullying, Dave, but Im sure its run out by now."

Taking a deep breath, Kurt let it out slowly, "I forgave you a long time ago, because I realized that if I didnt, Id only continue wasting energy on circumstances I couldnt change. So I chose to move on. Thank you, though. I appreciate your apology and I accept it." Holding out his hand, Kurt gave Dave an unsure smile as they shook.

"Ill, um, see you in briefing, Anderson," Dave said quietly before leaving Blaine and Kurt alone.

Full dressed, Blaine shut the locker, before tugging Kurt into his embrace. "Everything okay?" he asked against Kurts ear.

"Water under the bridge," Kurt shrugged, taking in the awkwardness of hugging Blaine in uniform, given the bullet proof vest and gun belt that poked him in strange places.

"Clearly I dont know everything that went down between you two, and of course, if you feel like sharing, Im here to listen. That being said, I want you to know that Dave Karofsky is one of the finest deputies Ive had the pleasure of working with."

Taking a step back, Kurt gave Blaine a small smile while he tugged his shirt back into place. "That makes me feel better. I think. That you think so highly of him. So Dave has your back?"

Giving Kurt a serious look, Blaine answered emphatically, "Always. And I have his."

"Good."

Blaine started to lead Kurt out of the locker room, looking over his shoulder to add, "Hes the one I was covering for at Christmas so he could be with his husband and two boys. Im surprised I didnt mention his name."

Following closely, Kurt shook his head. "No. I mean, maybe you mentioned covering for a Dave but I know I would have remembered if youd have said Karofsky. Too much history between us. Well, behind us. So hes married with kids? Two? Wow."

"Yup," Blaine answered, popping his p. "I was thinking we could have four or five."

Kurt actually stumbled at the comment, catching himself before he tumbled to the floor. Giving Blaine an incredulous look, Kurt mumbled, "Youre certifiable. 5150 and all that."

Taking Kurt by the elbow, Blaine lowered the register of his voice. "Youre the one that said picturing me as a dad was, and I quote, hot."

"Well talk about it," Kurt offered.

Blaine offered a smoldering smirk. "Talk? Sounds ... good. Im sure I can convince you ... using my amazing oralabilities." Waggling his eyebrows, he chuckled for a moment as Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaines gentle teasing.

As his hand reached for the door handle to the briefing room, Blaines complete demeanor shifted into a serious work-mode. "Just take a seat in the back. Ive got to pick up some stuff and then Ill be right there. If anyone asks, just tell them youre riding along with me tonight.

"Okay."

16:12 hours

Blaine held out a silver key on a strange key ring. "Its the spare to the patrol car. Just in case," he explained as they settled into the seats.

Picking it up from Blaines palm, Kurts brow furrowed. "In case…?" Kurt paused, curious.

Shrugging has he typed on the laptop resting between the two seats, Blaine answered distractedly, "Call goes too long and you want to sit; call goes to shit and you need to safely remove yourself from the vicinity. Just in case."

Kurt sighed and shoved the key deep inside the pocket of his wool coat. Both his dad and Finn had been out on ride-alongs with Blaine in the past several months. Neither of them had anything too crazy go down. Certainly it would be the same with Kurt. Suddenly, Blaine slapped a laminated card against Kurts chest.

"Here," he said, eyes still on the computer, "This has all the 10-codes listed and a lot of the penal codes youll hear from dispatch."

"Ah, a cheat sheet of sorts," Kurt said slyly.

At that Blaine looked up and grinned. "Therell be a test later, so you better pay attention." Keying his shoulder radio, Blaine began speaking rapid fire to dispatch.

"Control, 3 Paul Twenty-One."

"3 Paul Twenty-One, Control. Go ahead."

"Control, please log me 10-8 with 10-14 for the duration. Well be heading out to serve a bench warrant, address to follow, break."

Using his finger to track the codes listed on his chart, Kurt learned that 10-8 meant Blaine was on-duty and 10-14 meant escort so he assumed that meant that Blaine was escorting him around for the evening. By the time hed figured out those two things, Blaine and the dispatcher had finished their conversation and Blaine was pulling the patrol car out of the parking lot.

"How long did it take you to learn all these? Seriously, theres a code for a Deceased Animal, Loose Livestock … and a Ballgame in Street?" Kurts tone betrayed his shock at this last violation. "Seriously? A ballgame? Isnt that unpatriotic or something?"

Blaine grinned. "11-13, 11-12 and 11-15, right? The sheriffs academy is six months long – and you do a lot of studying. I use them 40 hours a week, 48 weeks a year, for the past ten years. They just … stick. I have to stop myself from using them when I with you or your family because Im so used to talking in code, and being around people who understand what Im saying when I do. Youve even picked up some – remember you told me I was 5150 because I think we should have six kids."

"You, Blaine Anderson, said five kids. And you are crazy if youre thinking that."

Snorting, Blaine began singing, "Craaazy, Im craaaazy for loving yooouuu," while waggling his eyebrows.

"Dork!" Kurt teased, crossing his arms protectively across his chest.

"Thats Deputy Dork to you right now, sir."

Kurt caught himself before the snarky remark he was thinking flew out of his mouth. Really, he did need to remember that he was at Blaines job right now, and as much as the two of them often fell into playful teasing, Blaine was working. There was a time and place … and this might not be it. Or, at least, maybe he needed to tone it down just a bit.

Sensing Kurts hesitation, Blaine reached out to squeeze Kurts arm gently. "Its just us here."

"Reading minds now?" With affection, Kurt placed his hand on top of Blaines. "Yeah, it is just us, but youre working. Tell me it wasnt a little more difficult to get approval to take me out than it was to take my dad or Finn."

Blaine shrugged and placed both hands back on the steering wheel. "Everyone takes their family out. Everyone. When I pointed that out to the Lieutenant, it made your ride along a non-issue. Mostly the concern was that were going out on Valentines Day."

"So they were worried that we might … get our groove on? While youre working? Ewww."

"Yeah, well, it happens. Ive been told. Repeatedly," Blaine replied quietly.

They were both quiet as they considered the implications. Kurt was able to shake off the mood first. "Fine,Deputy Anderson, teach me some more. What does your snazzy lap top do, for example?" Kurt asked, waving his hand in front of the bright monitor.

"Um, okay this section here, tells me everyone whos working right now. Were 3 Paul Twenty-One, right … there. The 3 designates the swing shift. Anyone with a 2 is day shift, 1 is midnights. Paul designates Patrol, Sam or S designates the sergeants. There should be at least 3 up right now. Mary or M are the motorcycle units. The V – Victor units are the parking officers."

Kurt nodded, starting to make sense of the letter and number conversations. "There are so many of them. I had no idea. And dispatch keeps track of them all?"

Blaine smiled. "Yeah, dispatch watches over all of us. But the number of units on–duty will shrink considerably in the next hour. The shifts overlap on purpose, so what youre seeing is all the day shift deputies and all the swing shift deputies on one screen. If the unit is on the left side, theyre available. If the unit is on the right side, theyre on a call. Those codes that follow should correspond to whats on your card. Um, looks like 3 Paul Twenty-Three – thats Daves beat – has been assigned a 415v. Thats a verbal fight – probably domestic."

"Makes sense," Kurt responded, glancing between his cheat sheet and the screen to see what he could decipher.

"This box down here allows me to communicate with dispatch – not unlike instant messaging, except that everything we type is recorded and subpoenable. If they dont want something going out over the radio, theyd send it here. I can do the same thing."

Considering what Blaine said, Kurt was curious, "Like, what might they not want to put out over the radio channel?"

Blaine made an adjustment to the heat registers before answering. "I had to arrest one of our sergeants daughters for DUI once. We didnt want the entire force to know what was going down, so we kept it over the system. Also, if we were concerned we might be listened to - maybe a bank robbery or, god forbid, something that went down at the high school … wed use this system instead."

Kurt nodded to show his understanding. "So were in the right hand column – which you said means were assigned to something. Whats on our agenda, Deputy?

"Serving a $35,000 bench warrant. A woman who allegedly committed felony battery on her domestic partner failed to show up to court to answer to those charges. The judge issued a warrant for her arrest. We are going to pay a visit to her place of employment. If shes there, I am going to arrest her and we will take her to jail."

"Do not pass go … do not collect $200," Kurt added with a smile.

Blaine smiled back. "No get out of jail free card either."

Listening to the tinny voice of the dispatchers coming through the radio, Kurt stared at the lap top, glancing down frequently at his laminated card, doing his best to follow along with the various calls and conversations. "You know, Blaine," he said quietly, "I dont think youve ever told me how you ended up here."

Blaine looked over at Kurt, surprise showing on his face. "I thought we talked about it at Thanksgiving? When you first asked if I was spending the holiday with my family or if I could spend it with you and yours."

Tilting his head to the side, Kurt gave an affectionate smile. "No, honey. We talked about how your parents dont approve of your career choice – or your brothers – and how youve managed to shift trade so you could work the holiday as an excuse so you didnt have to go home and deal with your parents talking about how much money they wasted on your education since you decided to pick up a job playing cops and robbers."

"What I want to know," Kurt explained, "is how you decided Oh, there you are, Career As a Cop, Ive been looking for you forever."

Blaine couldnt help the laughter that burst forth. "And you call me the dork?"

"Pot," Kurt said, gesturing towards himself, "Kettle," he finished, pointing towards Blaine.

"Goof," Blaine said with a grin. "I was in my second year at Stanford."

"Have I told you how much your intelligence turns me on?" Kurt interrupted.

"As long as something about me does," Blaine replied dryly. "Anyway, I had taken a couple psych classes to meet some gen ed requirements – thinking I was going to end up at law school somewhere – and I realized I reallyenjoyed them. More than my other classes. I liked learning about why people behave the way they do."

Blaine slowed down as he turned into an area containing a lot of commercial buildings, clearly searching for a particular address. "I took a class in criminology and was hooked. It truly was an A-ha moment, where I realized I wanted this to be my career path. So without telling Mom and Dad, I switched my major. Graduated with honors with degrees in criminal justice and psychology while minoring in Spanish. Came home and enrolled in the sheriffs academy and havent looked back."

Pulling the cruiser over to the curb, Blaine shut off the engine and turned fully to look at Kurt. "Every day is different. Im helping people. I know what I do makes a difference. Its stupid, but I have a whole scrapbook at home with letters and cards from the people I help. Wes and Nick started it for me when I was having a particularly tough time. I bring it out to remind me that people do care and are thankful for what I do."

"The amusing thing is, Mom and Dad would be perfectly content if I were using my degrees to put people away in jail as a lawyer. Its the uniform and gun they object to. Too blue collar for their tastes. At least, thats what I think, when I try to separate my emotions from the situation."

Shaking his head to clear it, Blaine went back into his instructor role. "That building," he began, pointing to a large brick structure slightly up the street, "is where our client works. I called back when we were in the police station, and the office manager says shes here today. If she didnt run her mouth, I should be able to go in and escort her outside without it becoming a huge deal."

Kurt licked his dry lips. "And what should I do?"

"Do you want to come with me?" Blaine asked.

"Um, I dont want to be in the way," Kurt admitted quietly.

"You wouldnt be. Why dont you stay here and wait, then."

Blaine climbed out of the cruiser and set off for the front of the building, carefully avoiding the dirty snow that was still melting away. Knowing it was going to be a long shift inside the patrol car, Kurt got out and walked towards the brick building, where a wooden picnic table sat – the snow dusted off as if someone had eaten lunch outside today.

Taking a seat, Kurt pulled out his cell phone sending a few text messages to Rachel and Santana with a picture of Blaines patrol car so theyd know he wasnt kidding about what he was doing for Valentines day. When a side door behind him opened up, Kurt startled.

"Excuse me," asked a tall brunette, "are you Lane Anders?"

Kurt pointed at himself. "Me?"

"Yeah."

"Um, no. Im Kurt."

"Oh. My office manager said some guy named Lane Anders was here looking for me. Did you see anyone else around?"

"No. I wasnt really paying attention, though. Just checking my messages, waiting for my friend to be done with his business," Kurt improvised. Keep it close to the truth, he thought to himself as he subtly pressed the speed dial for Blaines cell phone. "Oh, Im sorry," he said to the woman, "I really have to take this."

As Kurt lifted the cell to his ear, the woman began to walk down the street, clearly looking for Lane Anders. Kurt began whispering into the phone, "Shes out here with me. Came out the side door and is looking for you. Should I stall her?"

"Are you in the patrol car?" Blaine asked sharply.

"No. Picnic bench next to the building."

"Is she trying to flee?"

"No. Shes just really wanting to find this Lane Anders guy."

"Okay. Im gonna come out. If she looks like shes getting in a car, call me back. Otherwise, play it cool. She doesnt know youre with me."

Kurt wasnt totally surprised when Blaine ended the call abruptly.

Watching the woman walking back towards him, Kurt continued the charade of talking on the phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Blaine approach her. It all happened fairly quickly. Blaine had a short conversation, she deflated. He took her arm and moved it behind her back, hand cuffing her in short order.

Another woman came to the side door, and held out a red purse. "Kurt, can you take that please?" Blaine called out as he opened the back door to his patrol car and helped the woman inside, buckling her seatbelt since she clearly could not.

Kurt took the purse and walked over to the car, climbing in to the passenger seat. Blaine lifted the purse from his hands, explaining to the woman that hed place it in the trunk for safe transport.

Once hed done that, Blaine slid into his seat and radioed dispatch that 3 Paul Twenty-One had one in custody to transport to County. Kurt could have sworn at that point Blaine read off his odometer, but when he asked Blaine about it, Blaine just shook his head. "Later," he said quietly.

To be expected, the woman in the back wasnt in the best spirits. She continually asked Blaine to give her a second chance or at least to listen to her side of the story. Blaine, for his part, kept gently, but firmly, explaining that his arresting her wasnt a choice on his part. A judge had signed a warrant for her arrest, and shed be given a chance to explain her actions in front of a judge the next morning.

From the revving of the engine, Kurt could tell Blaine wasnt wasting any time traveling to the county jail. When they arrived, Blaine radioed dispatch as he pulled up to an electric gate that rolled up and down. He waved his police ID against a scanner, and the gate rolled up so they could proceed into an underground tunnel. Blaine parked, and shut off the engine.

"Stay here. You cant go in the jail. Ill be 10-15 minutes and then be back."

"Kay," Kurt replied quietly.

While Blaine was inside the jail, Kurt watched anxiously as the entrance gate rolled back up and a large white bus rolled inside. Several deputies filed out of the jail entrance and off the bus as a large group of prisoners was transported back inside the jail. Part of Kurt was fascinated by all of this, while a smaller part was constantly wondering what he would do if one of them broke free – if there was a sudden riot inside this gated tunnel. There was nowhere to go.

Just as Kurts nerves were about to get the best of him, Blaine reappeared. "Back again. You saw the work crew come back in?"

"Thats what they are?"

"Yeah," Blaine commented, backing the patrol car up and driving towards the exit gate where he used his ID to get the gate to roll up again. "Control. 3 Paul Twenty-One, 10-8. Theyre guys whore in for non-violent offenses who work at some of the farms or on construction sites. It counts as extra time served."

"I figured it was a bunch of guys coming from a courthouse," Kurt said.

"Oh, no. The main courthouse is right next door. Theres a tunnel that runs between them, so we dont even have to transport the prisoners. They walk right over, see the judge, and then come right back. There are special elevators and hallways to protect the judges and jury members as well as the prisoners."

"The prisoners? Really? They need protection?"

Blaine nodded. "Look, I say this with as little judgment as possible, but the worst – most tense – times, working at the courthouse, is when a jury is about to come back with a verdict on a murder trial. Then we have to be extra vigilant, because what happens when the victims family doesnt get a guilty verdict they so desperately want? As a law enforcement officer, Im still honor bound to protect the accused. Even if, in listening to the evidence, I personally think hes guilty as fuck."

"Thats happened to you?" Kurt asked in amazement.

"Everyone has to work courts. I did a three year stint before requesting patrol. Its really interesting to watch the legal process from that angle. But its also a lot less action than I see on a day to day basis. And yes, I had to hold back a guy Finns size from going after the guy accused of raping then murdering his sister. And if Im being completely honest, all I wanted to do was help the brother kick the defendant until he was dead. But Deputy Anderson doesnt get that choice. Plus, because Id been in the courtroom when the judge and lawyers were arguing what evidence was going to be allowed to be presented to the jury, I had more information than those twelve men and women."

"So they found him not guilty? Even though he was?

Blaine shrugged. "They returned the verdict they felt was correct based on the evidence theyd been allowed to hear. They did their duty. And if more people would stand up and serve as jury members, instead of trying to get out of it with piss-poor excuses, maybe our justice system would work a little better. Its no use complaining about a problem if you could be part of the solution but choose not to be. Sorry. Dont mean to shout from my soap box."

Kurt ruffled Blaines curls. "Shout away, honey. Youre adorably hot when youre indignant."

Blaine rolled his eyes, but failed to keep the smile from his face.

"So do you know what happened to the defendant in that case?"

Blaine sighed deeply. "About a week after he was released, we found his body. Floating. In Silvas Quarry. The rains washed away any evidence. No one thinks it was an accident."

"Wow."

"Okay, last tip before we find something else to talk about. Next time youre serving on a jury, look at the defendants socks. A lot of times the lawyer will have the family bring in a nice suit and shoes for the defendant to wear at trial. But for some reason, hardly anyone remembers to bring socks. So if hes wearing a nice suit, but bright orange socks – hes a guest at County and not released on bail."

"Youre just full of information tonight," Kurt teased.

"Just you wait, Hummel. Just you wait."

20:00 hours

Stomach growling, Blaine backed his police cruiser into a parking space in the strip mall that had seen better days and shut the engine off, before radioing in to dispatch. "Control, 3 Paul Twenty-One."

"3 Paul Twenty-One, go ahead."

"Control, please log me 10-7D."

"10-4, 3 Paul Twenty-One. Enjoy your dinner."

"Thank you, control."

Unbuckling his seat belt, Kurt tucked the laminated chart Blaine had given him back above the sun visor on his side of the car. It had been educational to read over all the types of calls the deputies responded to and he hadnt had to interrupt Blaine to ask for a translation of the lingo.

For his part, Blaine just naturally seemed to explain everything he was doing while he was doing it. When Kurt commented on this, Blaine had explained that hed worked as a Field Training Officer for several years, and he often started out the recruits fresh out of the sheriffs academy by doing the same thing.

Blaine finished typing something into his laptop computer and shut the cover prior to looking over at Kurt. "We should have about thirty minutes for dinner – uninterrupted. Its pretty slow tonight so far, but I just want you to know that if we get a call, were gonna have to get up and go. So I recommend using the bathroom first thing."

After they climbed out of the patrol car, Kurt asked, "Does that mean you have to dine and dash sometimes?"

Chuckling, Blaine shrugged. "We dont exactly call it that – but yes, I have had to get up mid-meal and book it to a scene."

Kurt raised an eyebrow as Blaine reached the door to a tiny restaurant and pulled the door open. "So what happens then?"

"It depends," Blaine replied honestly. "If its something that will clear quickly, well ask dispatch to call and let the restaurant know well be back to pay later that evening or the next day. Sometimes dispatch pays over the phone and we pay the dispatchers back. A lot of times we eat at the same places, so they know us, so it isnt a problem."

Blaine held the door open to Lucky Gardens Chinese restaurant, his stomach tightening at eh delicious smells that assaulted him. After theyd used the bathroom, Blaine ushered Kurt over to a round table with the other deputies. "Guys, this is Kurt. Kurt, this is Nathan, Casey and you already know Dave."

Removing his coat and draping it over the back of his chair, Kurt slipped into the seat between Blaine and Nathan after shaking everyones hands. Blaine had already poured tea into the small porcelain cup next to his plate. Almost immediately, the wait staff began bringing out piles of steaming food.

As they all began scooping up the food onto their plates, Nathan asked Kurt, "Hows it going so far?"

"The ride along?" Kurt confirmed. "Its been really interesting watching Blaine deal with people. I mean, Im not sure what I expected … but I dont think I expected so much of his job to be mediating the public, if that makes sense."

"Oh, it totally does. So what have you done so far?" Nathan used his fork to stab several dumplings and force them onto his plate.

"We successfully served a $35,000 bench warrant. Went to jail – where I wasnt allowed in – which, for the record, Im totally fine with," Kurt laughed with the deputies. "Then, not too long after we left the jail, we were waiting at this double left hand turn signal, and this guy three cars up decides to completely run the red light and make a U-turn, from the outside turn lane."

"Moron," muttered Dave, helping himself to some more of the beef noodles.

"I know. So Blaine turns on the lights and siren, and the other drivers are all giving him thumbs up and we follow him and pull him over so Blaine can give him a much deserved ticket."

Nathan looked pointedly between Kurt and Blaine. "Okay, but isnt that pretty much how the two of you met?"

Kurt pointed his chopsticks at Nathan. "Yes, and no. Because I was the idiot who was in too much of a hurry to wait behind the train gates. And as Deputy Anderson often tells me, that was the stupidest choice I ever made … although the end result has been pretty incredible."

Watching Blaine blush in front of his friends made Kurt happy.

"Well, dont let anyone on the force give you crap for how you met, Kurt," offered Casey. "I met my wife at an accident scene. Chain reaction rear-ending. She was the third of five cars. Best accident report I ever took."

"Then theres Daves story," Nathan added pointedly.

Dave flushed bright red, sputtering, "Thats so unfair."

Nathan placed a hand over his heart and batted his eyes, "Come on Karofsky, its straight out of a romance novel. Cop meets firefighter. Bids on said firefighter at a charity auction. Wins date with firefighter. They fall in loooove. Get married, and live happily ever after with two kids."

"Three," Dave said quietly, using his chopsticks to scoop more noodles into his mouth.

Everyone looked over at Dave in shock.

Grinning slyly, he shrugged with one shoulder. "Shell be here in late May. The boys are so excited to have a sister this time." He seemed to withdraw into himself after saying that.

"And how do you feel about it, Dave?" Kurt asked cautiously.

Dave looked up, a grin splitting his face. "Totally excited. And freaking intimidated. What do I know about girls?Christ."

"Its just indoor plumbing instead of outdoor," Nathan scoffed. He wasnt quite fast enough in ducking as Dave bounced a candied pecan off of his head.

After everyone had congratulated Dave on his good news, Nathan turned his attention back to Kurt. "Anything else happen?"

"We got called to transport a shoplifter. Well, there were two, but one was an adult and the other was a juvenile – so when Blaine asked which we would take, I said the juvenile, because Id already been to jail once today."

Laughter filled the table once again.

"Didnt you guys also respond to a 415?" asked Casey, dishing more steamed rice onto his plate.

Blaine leaned over to Kurt, "A 415-"

Kurt held up his finger. "A 415 is a fight. In this case, it was a 415v – victor – for a verbal fight. I was paying attention, Deputy Anderson. You did say there would be a test," he sassed, snagging one of Blaines eggrolls off his plate and biting into it with a smirk.

"So proud," Blaine teased, pretending to wipe away to tear.

"It was a disagreement between a teenager and his parents," Kurt explained to the others. "They … didnt agree with some of the choices he was making in terms of dress and hair color."

This time Blaine didnt need to look at the house numbers to find the address of the family dispute. The combatants were all standing in the driveway shouting at each other while the neighbors looked on from their porches and windows. Pulling to the side of the road, Blaine put a hand on Kurts arm. "Just sit here for a couple minutes. Ill wave you over when its clear."

Kurt murmured, "Yeah, okay," before rolling down the window just a smidge so he could hear better.

As soon as Blaine exited the vehicle the father came storming up. "Thank God youre here, Officer. I need you to haul Jensen to juvenile hall," he shouted waving his arm back towards a young man with exceptionally colorful hair and clothes. "There is no way hes welcome to live in this house acting the way he is. We have rules and expectations. His mother and I didnt raise him to be like this."

"I see, Mr. -?" Blaine kept his tone firm but calm.

"Billings. Richard Billings. My wife was the one who called 911."

"Okay. Mr. Billings, Id like to hear more about whats going on, but Ill need you to lower your voice, thank you."

Mr. Billings looked a bit sheepish. "I apologize, Officer. Im just … just so …"

"I can see youre upset, sir. I need to check on your wife and son. Please stay here. Ill be back in just a moment to talk to you."

Blaine walked over to the young boy who looked all of fourteen. The clothes the kid was wearing reminded Blaine of that older brother from The Brady Bunch, during the episodes when he was trying to be hip or groovy. Far out, man. Wide bottomed olive colored jeans with a paisley-print plum colored shirt.

The outfit clashed rather violently with his hair – hair as colorful as the rainbow jello his grandmother used to make.

"Im Officer Anderson. Youre Jensen?"

The young man crossed his arms. "Yes. Are you even going to listen to my side? Or are you just going to take his side and arrest me?"

Blaine maintained eye contact with Jensen. "Im going to listen to what everyone has to say and see if we can resolve this without further yelling. Jensen, are you hurt at all? Physically, I mean."

Jensen shook his head violently from side to side before he swiped his lengthy bangs off his forehead.

"You need a haircut and you can change your hair back to its original color or so help me, Ill allow your father to shave you bald, Jensen," the mother began to yell.

"Mom, just shut up!" Jensen screamed, his cheeks flushing a bright pink.

Putting himself physically between the mother and her son, Blaine shifted his position each time Jensen tried to look around him. "Look, Id like to move you to the back of my cruiser-"

"GOD, this is just perfect! Youre just like them! You said youd listen to me and now-"

"AND NOW," Blaine raised his voice over the boys tantrum. When he saw he had the boys full attention, he continued, "and now, what Id like to do is have you go sit in the back of the cruiser. Id have you sit in the front, but I have a ride-along tonight whos already in the passenger seat. All I want to do, Jensen, is give you all a few minutes to calm down."

"Fine. Sorry," the teen muttered begrudgingly.

Blaine pulled the back door to the cruiser open and allowed Jensen to flop down onto the uncomfortable plastic seat. "Jensen? Id like to introduce you to Kurt, my ride-along. Kurt? This is Jensen. Im just having him sit here while I go speak with his parents."

After Blaine moved away from the cruiser, Kurt spun in his seat and stared at Jensen for a moment. "Did you color your hair yourself, or have it done?"

Jensen startled at the question. "I … I did it myself," he admitted quietly.

"I know a whole bunch of women – and a few guys – who would pay good money to have someone work color like youve done," Kurt said. "And I realize you dont know me from anyone, but I do have to say, while I respect your fashion choices – we might want to work more on not having our hair clash with our clothing."

Jensen raised his hand to his bangs, touching them self-consciously. "Youre not from around here," Jensen observed.

"Well, kinda. Im from Lima, born and raised. Until I graduated high school. Then I moved to New York City."

"Wow. So what the hell are you doing back here?" Jensen seemed surprised that the question came out of his mouth as he immediately tried to backtrack, "Im sorry. That was too personal."

Kurt laughed. "That was hardly personal. My dad was hospitalized. My family needed help running his business. I didnt even think twice. Hell, I didnt even think once. I took a leave of absence and came home. That was almost six months ago."

"Is your dad still sick, then?"

"No. No, hes better. Retired now and watching entirely too much television," Kurt said with a smile.

"So then why are you still here? In Lima?" Jensen was incredulous.

Kurt bit his lower lip. "Its where my heart is," he answered simply.

Blaine was digging deep, trying to find his last reserves of patience while dealing with Mr. and Mrs. Billings. "Look, Mr. Billings, I realize you are very frustrated with your son right now, but as I keep saying, sending him to juvenile hall isnt an option. He hasnt committed any crimes to warrant an arrest." Well, outside his crime against fashion, Blaine thought to himself.

The evening chill cut through him, so he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. "Are you concerned with the friends your son is hanging out with? Are you worried he might be getting into drugs or alcohol? Have his grades dropped recently?" Blaine gave the parents a pointed look.

Mr. Billings glanced over at his wife before returning his gaze to Blaine. "Um, no. No to all of it. Hes been a good kid. But recently …" his voice petered out.

Blaine nodded his understanding. This wasnt the first time hed had a conversation like this with a parent over their teens behavior. "Recently hes not quite the little boy youve known. Hes trying to find a way to express himself – to make himself stand out a little from everyone else. I get it. I mean, Im not a parent myself, but Id like to think that if my son came home with … hair as colorful as Jensens – Id probably be shocked too."

"Were just trying to instill in him a sense of decency. Clearly your parents did the same for you. You can understand that, right?" Mr. Billings seemed almost desperate to have Blaine agree with him.

Taking a deep breath, Blaine let it out slowly. "Mr. Billings, my parents enrolled me in boarding school when I entered the sixth grade so they could travel overseas without worrying about who would watch me. The man I am today, thats a result of the amazing support I received at Dalton Academy, from my teachers, my guidance advisors, and my peers."

"Looking back now, as an adult, I can tell you the biggest component to my success in life was the feeling of love and support they managed to engender in me. I didnt get that from home. I still dont. My parents hate my career choice. They feel Ive wasted my education and Im wasting my life doing what I love."

"Mr. and Mrs. Billings, Im not a family counselor and I cant tell you how to parent your son, because thats your responsibility. But what I know is … I havent spoken to my parents in over two years. The schism between us started long before I chose law enforcement as a career. Whether he realizes it or not, Jensen really does need his parents in his life. Talk to him. Listen to him. And as much as you can, remind him every day that you love and support him – maybe not his choices, but him."

Blaine didnt have much more to say, but what was left went out his head when Jensen and Kurt came walking up the driveway.

Unprompted, Jensen stood in front of his parents, and voice shaking, began to speak. "Im sorry I yelled. Im sorry I didnt talk with you before I … did my hair. Id …" he hesitated and looked over at Kurt, who nodded gently, before continuing. "Can … can we go inside and … talk?"

As they watched Jensen lead his parents back into the house, Blaine nudged Kurt with his shoulder. "Thanks."

"Youre welcome?" Kurt brushed his fingers against Blaines. "Mostly I just listened. Its weird seeing some near-vision of myself fifteen years later. Although I never would have done that to my hair."

Blaine slung his arm around Kurts shoulders. "No, I dont imagine you would have." When they reached the patrol car, Blaine opened the door for Kurt. "Did I ever tell you about the extensive bow tie collection I accrued during high school?"

"Do tell, Blaine Anderson. Do tell."

By the time he finished relating the story, Kurt was breaking apart a fortune cookie to read the message inside. "Truthfully, I never would have imagined something like that going down as a normal part of Blaines job." He shifted in his chair to look more directly at Blaine, lacing their fingers together under the table.

"Watching you defuse that situation was beautiful. Im not sure you realize how much everything you do affects others – but I know Jensen has a better chance of finding the support hes going to need thanks to you."

Blaine shrugged, embarrassed to be at the center of attention because of all of this. "Remind me to call your dad later," he said, pulling out his wallet and handing several bills over to Dave.

"Any particular reason?" Kurt asked.

"To say thank you."

0042 hours

The radio let out three piercing tones before the dispatchers voice intoned, "All available units, we have a report of an 11-80 off of Rural Route 4 near Kingsley Road. RPs daughter called to report the 10-50, but was cut off. RP has been unable to reach the daughter since."

"3 Paul Twenty-Three, responding in 15, Code 2."

"3 Paul Twenty-Six, responding in 20, Code 2."

"3 Paul Twenty-One, responding in 10, Code 2."

"Copy that Twenty-Three, Twenty-Six, Twenty-One. We have an ambulance unit responding to your location as well as fire."

Blaine slowed the cruiser down enough that he could make a quick U-turn in the empty street before pushing down on the gas pedal. "Its a possible traffic accident with major injuries. Well be the first ones on scene. I need you to stay in the car until I call you out, understood?"

"Um, yeah, of course Blaine."

"If you see blood are you going to pass out or get sick?" Blaine was all business.

"No."

"Okay, theres a first aid bag in the trunk. The first thing I have to do is assess the safety of the situation and the condition of the people involved. If its safe, I may have you bring out the first aid bag – its red with a giant white cross on it, so youre not going to miss it. But thats if its safe. So stay here in the car until I say so."

"Yeah, I got that part, Blaine."

"Its important, Kurt."

"I get it, Blaine."

Blaine chewed on his lower lip, fearing in his heart that Kurt really didnt get it yet. Well, theyd both find out sooner rather than later.

A few short minutes later, Blaine located the accident scene.

Gruesome didnt begin to describe it.

"Control, 3 Paul Twenty-One. 10-97.

"10-4. 3 Paul Twenty-One, on scene."

"Control, please call out the coroner and have the responding ambulance units go Code 3."

"10-4. 3 Paul Twenty-One, EMTs request a count of the victims."

"Control, at least four. Going to assess the situation now. Stand-by."

Swallowing around his dry throat, Blaine didnt look at Kurt as he opened his door. "Just … just stay here, babe."

Blaine had positioned the cruiser so that Kurt couldnt look directly at the accident scene, so he had to crane his neck to watch Blaine walk closer to what was left of the car. There was a pedestrian walkway over the four-lane road. Near the bottom of the walkway, a small four-door sedan had hit the retaining wall meant to protect any walkers from injury. It was at least ten or twelve feet off the road.

From the little Kurt could see, the car had compacted like an accordion.

"Control, whats the ETA on fire? We have two who need immediate transport – but theyll need to be cut out of the car. Is Lifeflight an option?

"Negative, 3 Paul Twenty-One. The helicopters grounded for maintenance. ETA on ambulance is 3; fire is 8."

Kurt shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and slid down in the seat. He still didnt believe in God –but if there was some higher power, he certainly hoped the victims in the car didnt suffer – werent suffering now.

The door flung open and Blaine sat down long enough to begin typing frantically on the laptop. He was holding two wallets and a purse. That was all Kurt was able to process before Blaine leapt back out and began fumbling in the trunk for something. Then he was back once more.

"Stay,"

"Here," Kurt finished for him.

Kurt did stay in the patrol car for a very long time. He watched as the other sheriff deputies arrived and then the ambulances and fire trucks. It all seemed to be quite a bit of equipment and man-power for one tiny car. Eventually though, Kurt couldnt sit still any longer. Cautiously, waiting for someone to yell at him to get back in the vehicle, Kurt emerged and stood near the hood of the cruiser.

It was then the full impact of the car crash hit him.

It was one of those moments where the brain has difficulty processing the visual input, because the input is just so … horrifyingly different.

Before it had met the wall, the car had clearly been a four-door. Only now, the back seats had violently become the front seats. Shutting his eyes tightly, Kurt knew – knew – that whoever had been in those front seats hadnt made it.

Fuck.

The firefighters had managed to rip the roof off and theyd extracted one person – just a teenager from the looks of it, and were working on getting a second person out. Kurt could see the remnants of a nice dress on the young woman being strapped to a gurney, and the dress shirt and tie on the young man still trapped. Just a couple of kids out for a Valentines dinner.

Fuck.

In the time hed worked for his dads shop, hed towed a crushed car or two. But hed never really thought about how they got that way. Not anything as violent as this.

Blaine was busy writing down information that would be needed for the accident report, when Dave Karofsky grabbed his elbow lightly. "Look, Anderson, I dont want to tell you what to do … but Kurts watching all of this." Subtly he jerked his head back towards the police cruisers.

"Fuck!" Blaine blurted. "I told him to stay in the car." His head whipped around to find Kurt staring at the wreckage, tears streaming down his face.

"Well, Hummels always marched to his own drummer. Maybe you could have someone come pick him up? Youknow were not clearing this scene before daylight."

"Thanks, Dave."

"Anytime, Blaine."

Kurt was so engrossed with the activities of the men and women around him that he didnt realize that Finn had driven up and parked next to where he was standing. It wasnt until Finn wrapped an arm around his shoulder that Kurt startled back to reality.

"Finn! What are you doing here?" Kurt asked, stunned.

Finn held up a hand, waving at both Blaine and Dave Karofsky. "Blaine called and asked me to pick you up."

"But why would he do that?"

"Because he loves you," Blaine said softly walking up behind Kurt and Finn. "Because I love you and you dont need to sit and watch all this. Were not gonna finish until way after shift, babe. I want Finn to take you over to your dads place."

Kurt looked disappointed at being sent away. "He can take me to my place. Its closer to his house anyway."

"No!" Blaine argued. "Finn, you take him to your dads place, understood. Kurt, youve been watching us process this scene for over an hour. This is … bad stuff. Baby, please go home to your dads place, so if and when you wake up, I dont have to worry about you being alone. Ill at least know that your dad and Carole are there."

Ever aware he was wearing protective gloves, Blaine just leaned closer to Kurt, pressing their foreheads together but not taking Kurt in his arms like he most wanted to. "Please,

Kurt, please do this for me. Please," he whispered.

"Alright. I love you. Stay safe," Kurt answered just as softly.

"Love you, too."

Blaine brushed their lips together, then pulled back to look at Finn. "Thanks for doing this, man. Sorry to haul your ass out of bed at three in the morning."

"No worries. Youre taking good care of my little brother, so were square."

Blaine shot a glance at Kurt, "I thought you were older than Finn."

"I am," Kurt huffed out, faking annoyance.

Shaking his head, Blaine smiled wanly. "Ill be over as soon as I can."

"Ill be waiting."

"See that you do."

February 15th

0900 hours

Blaine let himself into the Hummels home, toeing off his shoes in the hallway and peeking into the kitchen. Waving at Burt and Carol, he smiled in appreciation when Burt just pointed to the ceiling, letting Blaine know where Kurt was. He took the stairs that led to Kurts former bedroom, which served as the guest room now. Cautiously he opened the door, smiling to himself when he found Kurt sprawled out across the bed, his left arm wrapped tightly around a pillow – a pillow, because Blaine wasnt there.

Yanking his t-shirt over his head, Blaine tossed it on the dresser that sat against the wall before removing his sweat pants. If theyd been at one of their places, Blaine would have foregone his boxers too, but since this was Kurts parents house, this was as naked as Blaine was willing to get. He might be a deputy sheriff, but that didnt stop him from knowing that Burt Hummel wasnt a man to mess with.

Tugging the pillow from Kurts arms, Blaine slid between the sheets and into Kurts arms. In the course of his job, Blaine saw many horribly disturbing things. In the six months since hed taken Kurt out for breakfast, Blaine had almost forgotten how he used to decompress after the bad days. He had adrenaline junkie co-workers who jumped out of airplanes or climbed mountains without safety gear; others chose to forget their days in a bottle.

Like a lucky few, Blaine had come to realize that solace could be found in the arms of the man he loved without reservation.

"Time is it?" Kurt managed to snuffle out from the pillow his face was buried in.

"Little after nine. Sorry, babe. Didnt mean to wake you," Blaine whispered, dropping kisses along Kurts neck as he pulled his boyfriend closer.

"Havent been able to sleep. Not really. I think I dozed off a couple times. Vaguely remember something about blue cats wearing red boots. Pretty sure that was a dream," Kurt murmured sleepily as he opened his eyes. Reaching up he ran his fingers through Blaines curls. "Do you need to talk about it?" he asked with concern.

"No," Blaine answered immediately. Kissing Kurt softly, he pulled back and stared into the swirling blue-green depths of Kurts eyes. "Unless you need to talk about it. Ive … Ive learned to deal with stuff like we saw tonight. I guess, from the outside, it must make me seem cold … indifferent."

"I dont think that at all, Blaine Anderson," Kurt answered emphatically. "And Id like to think I know you pretty well by now."

Blaine dropped his gaze and smiled shyly. "Yeah." He laid back down in the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Kurt snuggled into Blaines side and traced random patterns on his chest and stomach with his fingertips. "Did they … did any of them make it?"

Swallowing hard, Blaine shook his head. "Its one of the hardest things about this job – seeing lives wasted like that. So much potential – just … gone. Gone because of stupid choices. One of my favorite teachers at Dalton had a sign up behind his desk that read: You have freedom of choice. You dont have the freedom to choose your consequences. Every time I roll up on a scene like tonights, I hear his voice in my head."

They were quiet for a long time, allowing the stresses of the evening to melt away. Finally, Kurt asked, "What are our plans for today, anyway?"

Considering for a moment, Blaine finally answered truthfully. "Id like to catch some sleep here, since were already undressed and in a bed. Then we could move downstairs, watch some t.v. with your dad. Nap on his couch until he starts throwing peanuts at us - again. Placate him by ordering pizza and allowing him a slice of pepperoni. Then go home and have a fine dinner of Cheerios and toast by the fireplace, after which Id like to spend a couple hours worshiping your body with my own."

Kurt hummed low in his throat. "Like the way you think. If I choose do follow your plan, what do you think theconsequences might be?"

Blaine snorted. "You dont get to choose the consequences, remember? How hard and how often you come is my decision. Where we make love and in what positions – my decision. The pleasant ache youll feel in your muscles, and other places, all day on Sunday – part of those consequences of choosing to be well-loved by your boyfriend."

Kurt replied by kissing Blaine slowly and deeply. "I always feel well-loved by you. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for sharing a bit of your world with me last night. Thank you for being brave enough to do what you do."

"I love you, too. So much," whispered Blaine before tugging Kurt into place across his body. It wasnt long before both of them were sound asleep.

When Burt came up to check on them several hours later, they were still asleep, huffing out deep breaths, bodies wrapped around each other. It filled Burts heart with so much joy to see Kurt had finally found someone worthy of his heart. After retrieving a throw blanket from the linen closet, he carefully covered his two boys and went downstairs to make some popcorn.