"He's always right. Wait who was right?"

"Hummel. We took the botched money down to the lab. Lemon juice did the trick. The entire bureau wants to know how the hell you knew to do that. I, of course, told them that you were the boss for a reason, but you and I both know that it was Hummel."

"Yes, well, Hummel is marvelous isn't he? Why doesn't he just come in and take my place. He can solve all these crimes and then commit some himself!" Blaine shouted, losing his cool. Good god, it wasn't even 10 o'clock yet, and he was already losing his cool. Maybe he needed a vacation.

"Why are you meeting with him today?" she asked him, arching an eyebrow at him. "I mean, if he makes you this angry?"

"Don't give me that look Lopez; it was part of the deal."

"You made a deal with a con man?"

"He was right wasn't he?"

"Touch�."

"Right, so I want this guy. I want every single file that we have on The Banker, we're going to catch this son of a bitch," Blaine grumbled, really not wanting to talk about Hummel after his little stint that morning.

"The Banker? That's his alias? You're slipping Anderson."

"Files!" Blaine growled, snapping his fingers at the female agent.
It was going to be one long ass day, that much Blaine was sure of. He felt angry, and ashamed. He couldn't believe he had allowed his... his hormones to get the best of him. This guy was a criminal. This guy was by definition a bad person. Sure, he was the least violent person Agent Anderson had ever dealt with, but still.

"It's just your body playing by its own rules," Blaine grumbled to himself, "you can't deny he's an attractive man. That's not your fault."

The thing was, Kurt was stunning. Any person in their right mind could see that. That's probably how he conned half of the people he did; with his blue eyes and award winning smile. And besides, Blaine was a young gay man, he was allowed to appreciate a fine specimen when the occasion arouse. And good god was Kurt fine. His broad chest and perfect brown hair. His thick toned legs and smooth hard abdomen. Everything about him screamed sexual tension.

"It really isn't fair."

He was talking out loud to himself. Again.

Man it was a good thing they gave him his own office.

Blaine groaned, rubbing his fists into his closed eyes, and managed to sneak a quick peak at his phone.

"Shit!" he swore. It was 5:30 on the dot. He'd have to leave the office that moment if he wanted to make his meeting on time.

"Not like he's got anywhere to be," Blaine snickered to himself. Oh Agent humor, it would never get old.

"Listen up;" Blaine called from his post on the upper deck of the office," I'm heading out for my meeting. I want ever viable agent here working on the current Banker case. This guy is stealing millions from the government and not to mention, he's a suspect in three different murders. He's dangerous and he needs to be stopped. Let's do our job people!"

"Aye aye captain!" a gruff voice shouted back.

"Can it Puckerman, and get me some coffee to go while you're at it."

The whole office snickered lightly as Agent Puckerman pouted, but did as he was told.

Coffee in hand, Blaine made his way out to his car to make good on his deal with the proverbial devil.

A lot of people we're probably wondering why in the world Agent Anderson would even make good on his promise. He could have just used the information and left Kurt in prison to rot. Most people probably would have done that if they were him. But, the thing is, Blaine was a man of his word. When he said he was going to do something, he did it. No matter what. He had said he would be a first class F.B.I agent, and he was He had said he would catch Hummel, and he did. He had promised he would meet Kurt, so he would. He didn't go back on promises. Even if they were promises made to con men.

But, Kurt wasn't any con man. He might have been bad, but he wasn't evil. Blaine could tell by looking in his eyes, he didn't do the things he did to maliciously hurt people, and that, for some unexplained reason, gave him a few extra points in Blaine's book.

"Agent Blaine Anderson, I'm here to meet Mr. Kurt Hummel," Blaine announced to the guard, flashing his badge.

"Yes, hello Agent. Right this way."

Blaine followed the large security guard down the concrete hallway, to a small, dingy yellow room

"Agent Anderson, long time no see," A soft and silky voice ran out.

"Hello Hummel," Blaine scowled at him, trying to compose his face into something menacing.

"Oh wipe that look off your face Anderson, you look like your kid just struck out at T-Ball, come on sit down, talk to me," Kurt giggled, waving the guard off.

The security guard looked to Blaine, asking permission to go back to his post. Nodding, Blaine sat down in the chair opposite Kurt.

"Alone at last," Kurt cooed, smiling his thousand watt smile.

"Why am I here Kurt?" Blaine asked, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide the thick arousal in his voice.

"Ohhh straight to the point kinda guy, I like that. Well not so much the straight part, but you aren't a pitcher for that team, are you Agent?" Kurt asked in a low voice, looking up at Blaine through his eyelashes.

Blaine swallowed thickly. He must be dreaming, again. He subtly skimmed his hand down to his thigh and pinched harshly. Shit, nope, he was awake.

"Did you demand a meeting with me to discuss my sexuality?" Blaine asked him kin a strained voice.

"No, no I guess I didn't."

"Then what exactly is it that you want?"

Kurt took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and looked Blaine dead in the eye.

"I want to help you."

Blaine arched an eyebrow at him, (a trick he'd picked up from Santana over the years) as if to say "You must be joking."

"You have precedent, Blaine. There are laws and programs and a myriad of things we could do. See right here," Kurt exclaimed, pulling out a Manila folder full of documents, "Right here! I could be released into your custody for the remainder of my sentence!"

"You would just run as soon as they let you out," Blaine said critically.

"No, no I wouldn't because there is a GPS tracker that the state would attach to me. It's never been able to be tampered with," Kurt explained.

"There's always a first time for everything," Blaine said pointedly.

"Not with this, Blaine."

"If you think I'm going to take you on as my, what is this, what is this called?" Blaine asked, standing up.

"Criminal consultant," Kurt supplied.

"As my criminal consultant, well you must be crazy!"

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, "Blaine please."

Blaine looked down at where Kurt was sitting. He seemed so helpless in that moment. So small and so damn young.

"Why Kurt?"

"Somebody murdered my father. The only person I had left in this world. I can't do anything about it behind bars. But you and I, together, we could figure out who did it," Kurt explained quietly, his voice breaking, "Besides, this pasty yellow is doing nothing to bring out my skin tones."

There it was. The harsh, sarcastic shell that Kurt had created to keep the world out. Blaine could see right through it, though, to the young helpless boy who had lost his father.

"I- okay. I'll see what I can do," Blaine said finally, turning to leave.

"Blaine!" Kurt called to him.

Turning, Blaine came face to chest with Kurt.

Winding his arms around the shorter agent, Kurt hugged him closely, almost tenderly.

"Thank you," he whispered brokenly.

This time, Blaine let himself hug back without a second thought.