Blaine groaned when his alarm went off, cursing himself for forgetting to set the mood organ to wake him instead. He laid a heavy hand on the clock to silence the alarm and rolled out of the bed, his feet slamming onto the floor jarringly.

“Oh good, you're awake,” Tina said in that unusual, cheery voice she seemed to have adopted since yesterday.

Blaine blinked up at her from the console of the Penfield mood organ, scrolling through the two hundreds for something that would give him the appropriate level of awake and alert to face his meeting with Jake Puckerman.

“What can I get you for breakfast?” Tina asked with a smile. She was already dressed, again eschewing her typical black and grey for bright colors and light fabrics, the skirt swishing prettily around her legs as she twitched her hips in an almost unconscious dance.

He rubbed a hand over his face and said thickly, “I didn't know you owned anything that isn't black. First yesterday and now today…”

“I love bright colors,” Tina said, beaming as though Blaine's grumpy mood couldn't possibly get her down. “But you are right. My current wardrobe has way too many dull pieces. I might have done just a little bit of shopping yesterday.”

“But Tina, we can't afford – ”

“Don't worry, Blaine,” she practically sang the words, still swaying to a phantom rhythm. “I'm very good at finding a bargain. I hardly spent anything at all. Breakfast?”

“Coffee, for now,” Blaine said, his slow fingers still hovering over the Penfield dial. “What did you dial today?” Certainly whatever Tina used had worked wonders and following suit would save him the trouble of picking a setting for himself.

“Nothing, silly,” she said, twirling happily and then skipping out of the bedroom toward the kitchen. “I'll make you some eggs and toast.”

Blaine stared at the now empty doorway for a long time, bewildered by how much had changed in just two days. He was struck with a worrying thought, but quickly shook his head and huffed out a low chuckle. No, if someone had decided to replace his wife with an android, they would have tried a bit harder to imitate her personality. After all, such a drastic change would be suspicious. Drastic mood swings should be considered a proof of one's humanity. Reassured, he punched in 218 and smiled in relief as his body flooded with renewed energy. I hardly need that coffee now, he thought. But Tina is being so sweet. I really should try to eat something before I go.

He smiled and chatted pleasantly with Tina over breakfast, now that their moods were more closely aligned. When he promised to be home early and leaned in for a goodbye kiss, she flinched slightly and turned her head to the side, offering her cheek instead. At his puzzled frown she said, “Coffee breath.” Shrugging, he kissed her cheek and pulled away, rummaging in the closet for his protective outerwear.

“What does early mean, exactly?” Tina asked just before Blaine slipped out the door.

He sighed, a hint of annoyance starting to infringe upon the edges of his alert and businesslike mood. There was a hard edge to his voice as he said, “I don't know exactly. Just – earlier than normal.”

“I'd like to know when to start dinner,” Tina said, an edge creeping into her voice as well. She seemed almost anxious. “You know I hate trying to keep dinner warm for the hours between what you and I think is coming home early.”

“I'll text you,” Blaine said. “When I leave the office.”

“That's perfect,” Tina said, beaming once more.

When Blaine arrived at the police headquarters on Lombard, he walked with quick strides toward his office, avoiding eye contact with his colleagues. When he ignored Kitty's usual snide greeting, however, she darted in front of his office door and stood with her hands on her hips. Blaine sighed. “I'm really not in the mood today, Kitty. Just step aside, okay?”

“Is that what they said to you, then?” Kitty said snidely. “Step aside? You know that Shannon Beiste would never have let an andy get away.”

Blaine glared at her, counting his breaths until they were under control. “I didn't let anyone get away,” he said in clipped tones. “You weren't there. You have no idea what happened. Now please get out of my way so I can get into my office and do my job.”

“You should be out there looking for them right now,” Kitty said, taking a reluctant step out of the path to the door.

“Just do your job, Kitty,” Blaine practically growled at her. “And let me do mine.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding her hands up in a mocking gesture of surrender. “I didn't realize you were going to be so damn sensitive today. Usually you can take a little good natured teasing.”

Blaine ignored her and stepped into his office. Closing the door behind him firmly, he leaned against it for a moment and breathed, willing his heart rate to slow. He patted his jacket pockets, reassured by the crinkling of the paper inside and pulled it out to study it once more.

Clutching the paper like a lifeline, Blaine sighed heavily and crossed the room. He sat down at his computer, opened a lab report template, and began to type.

Forty minutes later, Blaine marched into Jake Puckerman's office, not even bothering to knock. Jake glanced up at him briefly, waving at him to take a seat while he continued a phone call. Blaine fidgeted restlessly as the call stretched on. The few businesslike phrases scattered amidst the joking and pleasantries were shreds of clues too tattered for Blaine to piece together who was on the other end of the conversation. Blaine suspected Jake had a host of people on speed dial that he could conveniently call whenever he had a meeting scheduled with a subordinate. After all, nothing says, “my time is more valuable than yours,” quite like holding someone hostage to one-half of a phone conversation.

“So,” Jake Puckerman said loudly, jolting Blaine out of his thoughts. Jake spun his chair away from the phone and focused his gaze on Blaine. “You've done pretty well. Shannon said you could handle it.” Jake stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. “Honestly, I was surprised. I really didn't think you could handle the pressure.”

“I can handle andys,” Blaine said. “Though I will say it gets a bit harder when my own boss stacks the deck against me.”

Jake raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

Blaine stared at him in silence.

After a moment, Jake forced out a laugh and walked around his desk to clap Blaine on the shoulder. “You must be really tired after all that hard work, Blaine,” Jake said slowly. “I think you're a bit loopy from lack of sleep. Why don't you go on home and – ”

“Cut the crap,” Blaine said flatly. “I know.”

“What exactly is it that you think you know?” Jake Puckerman said, returning Blaine's stare unflinchingly.

“I know that you're a pawn of the Sylvester-Hummel Association.”

“That's quite an accusation,” Jake said slowly.

“I should have suspected it from the beginning, with you sending me off to try to invalidate our testing apparatus before I could even begin to look for the escaped androids,” Blaine said. “And you sent Azimio right to me, after feeding me the lie that he was an officer with the Kenyan police.”

“That's preposterous,” Jake said. “Really, Blaine. Do you know how ridiculous you sound? Testing our apparatus before you killed any innocent human beings was the wise thing to do. And it gave you experience with the Nexus-6 unit, didn't it?” Jake stepped back and sat on the edge of his desk. “I honestly don't know what happened at the Sylvester-Hummel Association, Blaine. You weren't exactly brimming with details about that trip, were you? But I trusted you that you got the information you needed. And I was as shocked about Omondi turning out to be Azimio as you were.”  Jake smiled, his tone reminiscent of what you would use to calm a frightened animal. “Like I said, you must be tired. Why don't you get some more rest? I'm sure things will be clearer tomorrow.”

“You didn't seem all that concerned about me getting enough rest last night,” Blaine said. “In fact, you pushed me to go after those andys when I was utterly sleep deprived.”

“That's enough!” Puckerman shouted. “I'm trying to be patient with you, but I've reached my limit. I'm going to have to speak with Shannon about formal disciplinary measures.”

“You didn't want me to talk to Shannon,” Blaine said with sudden realization. “Did you set her up, too? Are you trying to get all of your bounty hunters killed?”

“Blaine, you do realize it's not wise to make a bunch of baseless accusations against your boss, don't you?” Jake said, his voice low and dangerous. “It's not particularly good for job security.”

“Having a boss who's actively trying to get me killed isn't very good for life security. And it's not baseless.” He pulls the wrinkled paper from his jacket pocket, unfolds it, and holds it up in Jake's line of sight. “I have phone records of your calls with Sue Sylvester. I've seen the transcripts, too.”

“Oh please,” Jake said derisively, rolling his eyes. “Of course I speak regularly with staff of the Sylvester-Hummel Association. They are the world's largest manufacturer of humanoid robots, after all. And anyone can type out a bunch of nonsense and tell you it's the phone transcript. Who gave that to you?”

Jake reached for the paper but Blaine jerked his hand back, clutching it to his body. “I have access to the recordings,” he said firmly.

Jake narrowed his eyes and tilted his head thoughtfully. “What is it that you want, Blaine?”

“I'll quit and emigrate to Mars and I'll keep your secret safe. You'll be free to collaborate with the Sylvester-Hummel Association for as long as you want.” Blaine leaned forward, his eyes boring into Jake's. “But I want a bonus – twenty thousand dollars at least.” Blaine rifled through the file folder balanced on his lap and pulled out a stack of papers. “Also, I need your clearance on these two lab reports, no questions asked.” He held the freshly printed sheets out toward Jake. “And I need your signature on this set of paperwork, too.”

In the long silence that follows, Blaine hears the ticking of the clock on the wall behind him, the clacking of heels against the floor of the hallway outside Jake's office. He was just beginning to wonder if he had made a monumental mistake when Jake sighed, rubbed a hand over his face, and reached out for the papers.

Jake walked back around the desk and sat heavily in the chair, flipping through the papers and examining each carefully. Finally, he said, “How can I give you a bonus without raising questions?”

“I'm the only bounty hunter to ever retire eight Nexus-6 andys in less than twenty-four hours. I should be getting the keys to the city, or your job. But I just want some cash – and your signature,” Blaine said dryly.

“But you didn't retire eight – ”

“Oh but I did,” said Blaine, gesturing toward the papers in Jake's hand. “And you can take all the glory for it, as long as you meet my demands.”

 “It's quite a list of demands,” Jake said, brows raised.

“It pales in comparison to list of infractions I have on you,” Blaine said. “And I'd be happy to give Channel Four an exclusive on a certain corrupt San Francisco Police Department official who puts his own interests above the safety of the people he is sworn to protect.” He wags his phone back and forth. “I have them on speed dial.”

“And why shouldn't I kill you right now?”

“Let's just say I have a friend who has a great interest in making sure I arrive safely on Mars and that all of my demands are met. You don't think I would be dumb enough to come in here without putting that kind of safeguard into place, do you?”

Jake stared at him for a long time saying nothing.

xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxxx

“Jake Puckerman tells me Mr. Anderson is planning to relocate to Mars,” Sue said. “I suppose I should congratulate you. I thought you screwed up this job royally since he obviously was able to continue annihilating escaped Nexus-6 models even after the supposedly life-changing experience of going to bed with you.”

“If all he wanted was sex, he would have taken me up on the offer the first time I offered,” Kurt said to his laptop screen.

“So what changed between last night and now?” Sue asked.

“I play the long game,” Kurt said airily. “He can't possibly bear the thought of retiring any more andys now that he's in love with me, so he's quite happy to slink off to Mars with his tail between his legs. As long as he has the proper companion.”

“Your deviousness is surpassed only by your loyalty,” Sue said proudly. “And I really thought he would fall for the owl. Jake told me about his obsession with rare animals.”

“Yes, but you forget that some humans have a moral code,” Kurt said, grinning coldly. “He needed romance – and emotional connection. I let him play the hero, rescuing me from an existential crisis. And what do you know? It turns out we both love show tunes.”

“I really didn't need to know that,” Sue said with a grimace. “But I will say I admire your talent. You always were a good actor.”

Kurt smiled lightly, proud of himself for not showing a trace of pain on his face when he squeezed the hard black tracking device into the shredded skin under the sleeve of his jacket. “I'm getting the paperwork ready for Mr. Anderson's android companion. I think I know just what he would like.”