Author's Notes: Click

Quinn was lying on her bed in a pair of men's boxers and an oversized t-shirt while Blaine was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at the ground. Quinn looked at how her friend's features were twisted in a mask of concern and something else entirely, and sighed.

She ran her fingers through her hair and then shifted her glaze back to the TV. Quinn wouldn't force Blaine to talk. She knew something was wrong and that it was eating him inside out. Blaine had showed up without warning hours ago, with the excuse that he wanted to hang out, but until now he had barely said a world. It was obvious he wanted to talk.

But it wasn't until Blaine opened and then closed his mouth again, wanting to say something and then changing his mind that Quinn gave up her "let him talk when he's ready" attitude.

"Oh my God, just tell me what's wrong with you," she said, sitting up. "Is this about what you would have done if Sam hadn't been such a fucking cock blocker on Santana's balcony?"

"What?" Blaine gasped, making Quinn pretty sure that it was definitely about just that. "W-what the hell are you talking about?" Blaine shouted.

"Seriously Blaine?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are you really trying to pull the stupid card on me? Me?"

Blaine didn't reply.

"I know what happened that night. Sam told me that he caught you almost kissing Kurt. And I know you well enough that if you had kissed him it wouldn't be a drunken mistake, a onetime thing induced by alcohol… It would-"

"Don't-" Blaine pleaded, looking away. "Just don't finish that, okay?"

Quinn sighed, supporting her chin on her friend's shoulder. "Okay," She murmured, nodding, "I'll stay quiet… You don't have to admit anything to me. But isn't it about time you begin to admit some things to yourself?"

Blaine remained silent.

"Are you avoiding him?" She asked in a hushed voice. "Is that why you're here?"

Blaine still didn't look at her.

"There's nothing to ashamed of, B," She said, placing her hand on his chin and forcing him to look at her. "Maybe a little embarrassed, but ya' know, the good kind of embarrassed, the one that comes with butterflies in your stomach. But not shame B, never feel ashamed of how you feel."

"Look at me Q," He murmured looking at her.

Quinn frowned. "And…?" She raised an eyebrow. Blaine looked at her. "Look at me and then look at him," Blaine said, lunching his shoulders, his eyes filled with such resignation that it broke Quinn's heart. She finally understood what Blaine meant every time he said that Kurt wasn't like them. Blaine thought Kurt wasn't like him. Blaine thought that Kurt was better and too good for him. And just like anything else good in his life, Blaine preferred to push it away in fear of losing it later when he became too attached to it.

It just seemed easier that way.

"You should talk to him," Quinn murmured.

Blaine shook his head. "No."

"But Blaine-"

"No!" Blaine interrupted her, a little too loudly. His fists were clenched tightly at his side. "There's nothing to talk about, okay?" He looked away. "I was drunk, and nothing happened. Nothing."

"Okay," Quinn replied, her lips twisting into a bitter smile. "But tell me this, when was the last time you looked at a boy and felt butterflies in your stomach?" She inquired, standing up. "Do you even remember? Because I don't! But let me tell you this, I wouldn't waste the chance of being with someone with who I can share more than just cheap alcohol and meaningless sex."

******************


Days went by before Artie finally allowed Eugene to step into his lab again.

In the meantime, he had designed a new security system and made sure of updating it regularly. He couldn't take any risks. Whoever had hacked his computer was dangerous; it wasn't just another hacker trying to prove he was better than Artie. If that was the case, minutes after the attack, news about how the best hacker in the country had been hacked would be all over the cyberspace.

But there was nothing.

It been days since the attack and no one had bragged about it. In fact, no one seemed to have heard about what happened. Whoever hacked Artie's system didn't do it for the recognition. This person had a much more obscure intent. And that was what scared Artie the most. Not only that, but it also pissed off him, because he wouldn't let anyone mess with Kurt and Genie and then just walk away.

This hacker was good, maybe even the best, but this person gave Artie motivation and more than anything, he wanted to make whoever had hurt Genie pay.

"I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON SOMETHING," Eugene announced, entering Artie's lab with heavy steps.

The hacker raised an eyebrow and wheeled around. "What do you mean you've been working on something?"

Eugene shrugged and sat beside Artie. "YOU GAVE ME A LAPTOP."

"But we haven't had internet for the past few days," Artie stated.

"I COULDN'T HELP IT. I WAS BORED AND YOUR NEIGHBOR'S WI-FI PASSWORD IS 123456," Eugene said and scoffed, slinging his notebook open. "IT'S LIKE HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW THAT HE LIVES NEXT TO THE GREATEST HACKER IN THE COUNTRY."

Artie sighed. "I'm not the greatest hacker in the country," he murmured, almost inaudibly and looking down at his lap.

Eugene titled his head to the side. "OF COURSE YOU ARE."

"No, I'm not," Artie growled quickly. "Someone got past my security system, hacked my computer and hurt you, so obviously I'm not the best hacker in the country."

Eugene looked at Artie. "YES YOU ARE. YOU FIXED ME, DIDN'T YOU?"

Artie looked away. "Yeah, but it was because of me you got damaged in the first place."

Eugene gripped Artie's shoulders. "BUT YOU FIXED ME. AND YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND. TO ME YOU WILL ALWAYS BE THE BEST HACKER IN THE WHOLE WORLD, SO STOP ARGUING WITH ME, IT'S POINTLESS."

Artie smiled, rubbing his neck. He wasn't used to being considered someone's best friend. Years of unstoppable activism and frequent arrests made Artie a quite lonely person.

"Okay, okay… I won't argue…" He smiled, fixing his eyes on the screen of Eugene's laptop. Its background was a picture of Osamu Tezuka's Astroboy. "So what have you been working on? An Aymara dictionary?"

"NO, I ACTUALLY HAVE BEEN ANALYZING SANDRA JORDAN'S SOCIAL NETWORKS-" the robot said as he pulled up Sandra Jordan's Facebook page.

"Wait- What?" Artie gasped, eyes filled with worry. "I told you to not connect yourself to a center of processing again. It's dangerous Genie! W-what if you got hurt again?"

"I DID NOT CONNECT MYSELF TO ANY CENTER OF PROCESSING," Eugene interrupted. "I DID IT ALL THE OLD FASHIONED WAY," he explained, turning his attention back to his laptop.

"ACCORDING TO YOUR STUDIES, KURT'S CONSTRUCTION STARTED ABOUT 10 YEARS AGO. SO I LOOKED FOR EVIDENCE IN WHAT, IN THEORY, SANDRA POSTED WHILE SHE WAS WORKING ON KURT'S PROJECT," Eugene explained.

Artie's eyes sparkled. "Did you find anything?"

"SHE WAS A PRETTY RESERVED PERSON. NONE OF THE PEOPLE ON HER FRIENDS LIST SEEMED TO BE CONNECTED TO THE TECHNOLOGY INDUSTRY AND MOST OF HER POSTS WERE OF SONG LYRICS OR PICTURES THAT DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH HER WORK." Eugene showed Artie some pictures of Sandra with coffee mugs in her hands and two white cats in her lap.

"BUT THEN I FOUND THIS," Eugene said excitedly, showing a picture of Sandra smiling beside a coffee machine in with a purple mug between her hands. She was wearing a black over-the-shoulder long sleeved top that had a pair of sunglasses hanging on it.

Not exactly much of an enlightening picture if you ask Artie.

"Okay, so you found a picture of her beside a coffee machine…?" Artie said, raising an eyebrow. Besides confirming the fact that Sandra really enjoyed coffee, that picture didn't seem any more relevant than the pictures of Sandra with her cats.

Eugene huffed, and Artie was pretty sure if the robot could he would be rolling his eyes at him. "IT'S NOT ONLY A PICTURE OF HER BESIDE A COFFEE MACHINE. CHECK IT OUT," he said, before began to expand and then adjust and then expand the picture again so the final result wouldn't end up pixilated.

"AND THERE YOU GO, NOW WE'RE LOOKING AT AN IMAGE OF A WINDOW THAT WAS REFLECTED BY SANDRA'S SUNGLASSES WHEN SHE TOOK THIS PICTURE."

"Oh my God…" Artie murmured, covering his hand with his mouth. "This seems to be the outside of an old industrial park. Look at this." He pointed to the slightly blurry image of a three-phase transformer. "You're a fucking genius. I mean, of course we don't know where this place is or, if in fact, she was working there, but I think this is a start"

"I THINK WE SHOULD SEND THIS TO WALTER," Eugene stated, already opening his e-mail account.

"But we still don't know where this place is. We have to confirm if it is, in fact, an industrial park and where the hell it's located," Artie argued.

"WALTER'S BEEN WORKING WITH ILLEGAL TECHNOLOGY FOR YEARS. MAYBE HE'LL BE ABLE TO RECOGNIZE THIS PLACE…"

"I guess you're right," Artie said.

******************

"So tell me again what we're baking?" Tina asked, slipping a white apron on before lining two cake boxes on the table.

"Apple and walnut cake with treacle icing," Kurt said and smiled, putting flour, cinnamon and baking soda in a big bowl.

"Sounds delicious." Tina chuckled, handing him the sugar.

"It tastes like Autumn…" Kurt grinned, stirring the sugar and making sure there weren't any lumps. "Hand me the oil, and please stop eating the chopped apples!"

Tina laughed, letting go of the bowl of chopped apples, but not before earning another stern look from Kurt as she popped a piece into her mouth.

"Sorry," she murmured, turning around to get the oil. "Here," she said before gaze shifted to the back of Kurt's neck.

"Where'd you get this scar?" She asked, touching the almost imperceptibly rectilinear scar following the line of Kurt's spine.

Kurt flustered. "I-I uh… I don't remember… I was really young when it happened," He rushed. "Can I get the eggs?! And the apples! That is, if you haven't eaten everything…" He trailed off with a nervous laugh.

Tina laughed as well and handed Kurt the small bowl with the chopped apples. Maybe if the android wasn't so nervous himself, he would have noticed how forced her laugh sounded.

******************

Tina's apartment smelled sweet, like apples… like her childhood…

It made her sick.

The apartment wasn't supposed to smell or feel like home. Tina wasn't supposed to feel comfortable inside those walls. This was temporary. Everything that surrounded her was artificial and false. Her clothes, the furniture, all the things she had bought from flea markets to make her cover more believable. She was there with a goal, which was to disable Project Metempsychosis and then leave without looking back.

She opened the windows and felt shivers running down her spine as the cool air invaded the room. She didn't mind though. The cold was good; it made the atmosphere feel much more appropriate.

Tina threw the leftovers of the apple and walnut cake in the garbage. She threw her hair up in a ponytail and sat down on the couch.

She opened her black laptop and a flash of light hit her eyes.

"You're late."

"I was busy," She replied, staring at her laptop's screen.

"You said that in one week you would have an prognosis of Project Metempsychosis's situation, it's been two weeks already."

Tina bit her lower lip, looking away before looking back up at the screen again. "The malware that you infected Project Metempsychosis with was removed and the bug in his programming was corrected. There's no other way of accessing and disabling Project Metempsychosis's system, besides connecting a peripheral device to it," she said quietly, almost mechanically.

"You're sure one of those FDTC Human Assurance Devices wouldn't work? It would be so much easier."

Tina rolled her eyes and huffed. "You know very well that Project Metempsychosis's endoskeleton is shelled against those kinds of devices."

"Well I guess we're going to have to do it the hard way then…"

Tina felt guilt rise in her throat. Kurt's laugh as they baked echoed inside of her mind. "A-are you sure there's no other way?" she murmured, looking down at her hands.

"Unless you want death Tina, we-"

"No!" Tina gasped, looking up. "Of course not, but maybe if we-"

"Do I have to remind you about what happened in Berlin? Didn't I already send you the pictures?"

Tina felt a knot in her stomach. She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "You're right," She murmured, her voice coming out scratchy. She cleared her throat and swallowed, trying to get her voice back to normal. "You're right," she repeated catching a glimpse of how the familiar eyes on her screen sharpened with smugness.

"As always."

"So when are we going to do it? We still have to need a place to do it but we already have the necessary equipment…" She trailed off nervously.

"Oh sweetheart, believe me, I want this to end just as much as you do, but we have to be careful. After all, we don't want those federal agents after our asses later, do we? And you weren't exactly subtle in approaching Project Metempsychosis…"

"So what are you saying?" Tina gritted. She just wanted to get this over with, the whole situation was already becoming too much for her. "I'll have to keep lying? You don't understand, Kurt's going to-"

"Project Metempsychosis."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Project Metempsychosis is-"

"No, you said Kurt, and we agreed we wouldn't address Project Metempsychosis like that."

Tina sighed heavily. "This situation is obviously affecting me," she said burying her face between her hands. She swallowed hard before taking a few deep breaths. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"You'll do exactly what this situation demands of you. Do you understand me, Tina? Until we find a way of getting our hands on Project Metempsychosis and disabling him permanently, you'll keep smiling and making him believe you're a fucking angel, and I don't care if I have to send you daily pictures of what happened in Berlin to remind you why we are doing this."

Tina nodded, heavily sighing.

Sometimes she just felt like disappearing.

If only things were that easy.

******************

I'm bored, was written inside the paper ball that that was thrown at Walter's head.

Walter rolled his eyes and looked up at the desk across his own.

"Don't you have reports to finish?" He asked, taking a sip of his black sugarless coffee.

Penny wheeled her chair, rolling around until she was besides Walter. "I already did, and now I'm bored," she sighed.

"Boss is watching us," Walter murmured, adjusting his reading glasses as he looked over to where Mr. Johnson, an older man with grey hair, a big nose, and a large mustache, was standing and glaring at them.

"If he asks, I'm helping you with these reports." Penny grabbed a pen and began to write on the papers on Walter's desk. "Look at me, helping you with your reports..." she murmured in melodious tone.

Walter chuckled. "Penny, you're not helping me with them, you're drawing little ducks on them."

"First of all, these are swans, and these are drafts anyway," She dismissed, before furrowing her eyebrows together in concentration. "Drafts that look much better with graceful swans on them," she murmured.

"Graceful swans?" Walter raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"Shut up." Penny bumped her fist on his shoulder before an email notification popped up on Walter's computer's screen. "Oh look, you have a message!" She looked up with her brown eyes wide and excited.

"And you're going to stand here while I check my emails?"

Penny lunched her shoulders, supporting her chin in her palm. "What? It's not like you have anything to hide besides your registration in single mom's forums where you look for tips on how deal with Blaine."

Walter blushed. "I don't-"

Penny rolled her eyes. "Walter, please, I saw it. Remember last week when you left your email account open on my computer? Yeah buddy, I know about the Star Trek forum as well."

"Just turn around!" Walter cried, mortified.

"Seriously?"

"Turn around!" Walter hissed, gripping Penny's chair and spinning the girl until she was facing Andrew, the agent who worked in the desk behind Walter. "Hi there," she laughed, blowing at the lock of her ginger hair her that fell on her face.

Andrew didn't even look up from his computer.

"Oh my freaking God…" Walter gasped, gripping Penny's chair and spinning her around again so that she was facing the computer screen.

"Wow," The ginger woman said and laughed. "Make your mind, Walter! Do you want to share your love for Star Trek with me or not?" She mocked.

"Look at this." Walter pointed to the screen where a picture of what seemed to be an industrial complex was being displayed.

"And what am I looking at exactly?" Penny murmured, pushing loose locks of hair behind her ear and moving closer to Walter.

"This is a picture of a window that was reflected in Sandra Jordan's sunglasses. It's dated to the time period in which Artie Project Metempsychosis was being built," Walter explained. "It seems to be an industrial complex."

Penny squinted her eyes. "But that doesn't mean anything… she could be visiting someone or-"

"I know this place," Walter interrupted, fingers typing in a rush as several FDTC files were open on his computer. "Look at this. These are pictures of Angelus Complex-"

"Where Avalon built the humanoid androids before the anti-humanization laws," Penny completed, looking wide eyed at Walter.

"Yep! And do you see this blurry symbol over here?" He murmured, expanding the image Artie sent to him. "It doesn't look like this one?" He pointed to a picture of Angelus Complex where the Avalon's logo was visible.

"But that's not why I think that it's the Angelus Complex." Walter grinned, hazel eyes sparkling.

"No?" Penny frowned.

"No! Just because this place has the Avalon logo doesn't mean that it's The Angelus Complex. Avalon's logos are everywhere," Walter explained. "The thing is, seven years ago, abnormal levels of energy use were registered in the Angelus Complex. And in theory, this place was supposed to be inactive since the anti-humanization laws, so a FDTC agent was sent to check it out."

"And it would be too much of a coincidence if Sandra Jordan, who was directly involved in Project Metempsychosis, took a picture in a place looking exactly like the building that would be perfect to produce illegal forms of technology, and that years later registered abnormal levels of energy's use," Penny said, the smallest small tugging the corners of her lips. "We just have to find the name of the agent involved."

"Exactly." Water smiled accessing the FDTC case registers. "Just give me a minute."

******************

Kurt had freckles.

They were almost imperceptible, and if you didn't look close enough or not really pay attention, you probably wouldn't notice them.

But Blaine did.

He kind of hated himself for it, because he shouldn't be noticing. These little details shouldn't be catching his attention; that was the opposite of what he had promised himself he would do. Blaine had promised himself he would gain control over this thing (yes, thing: he refused to name what he was feeling towards Kurt), and as the days went by, Blaine had convinced himself that what he was feeling towards Kurt was just a side effect of the fact he hadn't had sex in ages.

So Blaine had a plan: he would distance himself from Kurt, and get laid. And his plan would've be perfect; fucking perfect, if it wasn't for Kurt's fucking freckles.

Blaine didn't even know that freckles were a turn-on for him, but there he was, lying on his bed and pretending to be on his phone. Really, he was stealing glimpses of Kurt's perfect face and those almost imperceptible freckles.

It gave Blaine an uncomfortable feeling. It made his skin feel tight and caused him to feel tense. Every time he caught sight of one of those little details which made Kurt so damn unique, his heart thumped a little more forcefully against his ribcage.

Blaine's cell phone buzzed, bringing him back to reality.

Hey gorgeous, how bout u come over tonight? -Ethan

Blaine read and re-read the message over and over again. This was it. It was the opportunity he was waiting for, and he needed to get this need out of his system…

So why didn't he feel excited about it?

He looked up, his eyes immediately drawn back to Kurt. He felt his stomach flip, and sighing, he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Ethan wasn't that hot, anyway, he lied to himself. Ethan was hot. He just didn't have freckles, piercing blue eyes or an adorable nose…

Hearing another buzzing noise. Blaine reached into his pocket, and then furrowed his eyebrow. It wasn't his phone.

Then he heard Kurt chuckling, and turned around to see the boy's blue eyes fixed on what was apparently a cell phone.

Blaine frowned. Since when did Kurt have a phone?

"I thought you didn't have a cell phone," He said before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth. He cringed on the inside a little when he realized how sharp they sounded.

Kurt glanced up, right into Blaine's eyes. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting that I need to update you on everything that happens in my life," he retorted coldly.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Did Walter give you that phone?"

Kurt made a face.

Blaine cleared his throat uneasily. "What? He's my father," he said, trying to mask the fact that he was just genuinely curious about when Kurt had acquired a phone, and who was texting him.

"No, it wasn't your father. Penny gave me the phone," Kurt explained. He wasn't looking at Blaine and was more focused on replying to the text Tina had sent to him.

"Penny is kind of rich, isn't she?" Blaine wondered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Kurt looked up. "I suppose so. I mean the clothes she bought me weren't exactly cheap, and neither is this phone…"

"Why the hell is she working with the FDTC then? No one wants to work in FDTC," Blaine said, frowning. "They don't even have a cool vest like the FBI or CIA!"

Kurt chuckled at Blaine's remark, and Blaine couldn't help but shiver as the boy's laugh reverberated through him.

Their eyes locked for a second, and they both forgot what they were talking about. It wasn't until Kurt's phone buzzed again that they were brought back to reality, the eye contact breaking. Blaine looked away as Kurt nervously looked back at his phone's screen.

"So, already texting then, huh? And I thought you weren't popular," Blaine murmured, ignoring the small twinge of jealousy in his chest. Who was Kurt was texting? Did he meet someone? Maybe the girl he had been hanging out with had introduced him to a cute boy… Blaine wouldn't know. It wasn't like they were actually friends.

"It's only Tina." Kurt shrugged, almost reassuringly, as if he somehow could read Blaine's mind.

"Is she the girl from 214?" Blaine inquired, trying to ignore the relief flowing inside of him.

"Yeah, she's like the only contact I have besides Walter and Penny," Kurt said and sighed, supporting his chin on his knee. "It's kind of pathetic, isn't it? I have only three contacts in my phone."

Blaine bit his lip. The worst idea he could possibly have was creeping inside of his head. But he couldn't, it would be stupid; he was trying to distance himself from Kurt for God's sake and-

"You can have my number," He blurted out before he could give them any further thought.

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed together in a confused expression; he didn't quite believe what he just heard. No, he must be imagining things. Blaine would never offer his number to him…

Blaine looked away. "I mean, we live together," He said. "It's only normal that we have each numbers right? You know, in case I need you to cover for me when I sneak out or something like that…"

"Oh," Kurt murmured, managing to mask his disappointment. So that was why Blaine wanted his number, just so Kurt could help him when he snuck out to meet his friends, or even his fuck buddies. "Fine, but don't expect me to get up at daybreak to open the door for you," he murmured quietly, not really looking at Blaine as he held out his phone.

There was a silence, in which Blaine stared at Kurt.

"I won't," he finally said, grabbing Kurt's phone. He really wouldn't.

He quickly typed his number, but he didn't feel comfortable enough to take a picture of himself to go with it, so he gave it back to Kurt. "Here," he said, before his own phone buzzed with a new message.

Are you coming or not? – Ethan

Blaine read the message, and then glanced up at Kurt.

It was too much all at once; the panic rising within him, the text from Ethan, Kurt's freckles, the boy's blue eyes, the knot in Blaine's stomach, the heat burning inside of him as his instincts screamed at him to run. It was too much; Blaine couldn't process it properly, not while standing only a few feet from Kurt.

He needed to get away.

"I have to go," Blaine spluttered, flailing his arms, as if he was tossing all his feelings aside. He clenched his fists and turned his back to Kurt, who called his name. Against all instinct, Blaine turned around.

Click.

The sound echoed softly in the room, and before Blaine was able to process what was happening, Kurt was already lowering his phone.

"It would be weird if you were the only contact without a picture," Kurt said, looking down at Blaine's picture for moment before meeting Blaine's eyes again.

And just like that, Blaine pulled himself back, unable to leave or run away.

"Weren't you leaving?" Kurt titled his head in confusion as Blaine crossed the room and collapsed on his bed.

Blaine sighed heavily, his eyes glued to the roof. "Apparently not," he said and lowered his gaze, catching the way the corners of Kurt's lips lifted just a little.


**********

"Ah-ha!" Walter grinned. "We have to look for Agent Caleb Thompson," He read off of a FDTC file. "Apparently, he's retired… but he was the one responsible for the investigation of the abnormal levels of energy use on the Angelus Complex." He took note of Caleb's address.

"Let's go after him then." Penny smiled, already standing up.

"No, wait." Walter grabbed her arm. "It's best if you stay," he concluded, looking at how Johnson was watching them with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What? Why?" Penny cried.

"Because Johnson already said that there is no need for both of us to go to the robot flea market and I don't want him to get suspicious…" Walter murmured, grabbing his things.

"Maybe if someone had kept their mouth shut about Mr. Johnson's weight, he wouldn't be so tough on us," Penny retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know, and I'm sorry! But only one of us can go, and I am the only one with the interrogatory experience here," he tried to explain, running his hand through his curly hair.

Penny rolled her eyes, turning around and meeting her boss's sharp glare before sitting down in her chair. "Fine! But call me soon you get there," she hissed, wheeling around back to her desk. "I'm serious!" she held out a pen. "Call me!"

TBC...