The bank was still a mess. Shards of glass were everywhere, being avoided by the many feet pounding around the room. All of the hostages were gone by now, having spoken to the officers already. The police had taken away the caught bandits, and all that was left was taking a look around. 

In the corner of the room, leaning against an undamaged wall, two men lurked in the shadows, trying to remain unnoticed. It wasn't as though they weren't supposed to be there, they were authorized, they just preferred to not be seen.

A younger, shorter figure approached them. He moved carefully, wanting to not be seen just as much as the pair covered by the shadows did. 

"Anything useful left behind then?" the taller of the two in the shadows asked.

The younger boy shook his head. "This guy's got his hand's covered so no prints. His voice wasn't recorded and his face is hidden too much for it to be set to any match. He's completely covered his tracks."

"Damn," the man sneered, pulling out his cigar. The boy watched but didn't speak, keeping his face neutral. "He's too clever..."

"Was that a compliment?" the second boy laughed, leaning next to the man smoking his cigar. He was taller than the other boy, but still young himself. He seemed much more amused than any of them, and the older man pretended not to notice the entertainment he seemed to be getting from the situation.

"That was a complaint," the man corrected him bitterly, but the bitterness wasn't directed towards the boy. The younger boy knew it was directed towards Silver. He looked between the two boys, his brow furrowed, and his eyes showing his frustration. He scowled to himself, "I need this dealt with," he sneered. "I want the two of you on this. Always on this. I want you following this guy around; I want you to be where he is when he strikes. I want to know who he is and you aren't doing anything else until we figure this out."

The younger one glanced over at the other boy against the wall. He was still smirking his stupid, cocky grin. He wanted to argue against this, but that was more because he didn't want to have to work with him. Still, he kept his face composed and nodded. "We'll track him down," he assured the older man confidently. 

"Not a problem," the taller boy grinned. "Kiddo here and I will get this guy."

The boy scowled, but the man didn't catch it and the taller boy winked. "I don't care what you're doing, just be there," the man said and nodded. He examined the room and huffed before starting for the door.

"This'll be fun then," the taller boy whispered as they followed after him. 

This would be anything but fun.

"Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine lazily raised his hand, his head against the cool surface of the desk. His eyes flicked up to the clock as he suppressed a yawn. It had only been five minutes and yet somehow detention felt like it should already be over. He wanted to sleep through it, but that probably wouldn't go over well with anyone. 

His eyes felt heavy again today, but this time it really was because of Cooper. His brother had been there first thing in the morning to wake him up and drive him to school, keeping a close eye on him all through the morning until he was right at the doors to school and walking inside. Only then did he seem content enough to drive off, smirking proudly. Blaine, however, didn't usually wake up before the sun, and despite going to sleep early he still felt exhausted.

Luckily for him, the day had gone a little better though. Blaine told himself that it was due to the lack of trouble he managed to put himself in, but Wes had stated plainly otherwise. The true reason that the day seemed brighter was probably due to one thing: Kurt Hummel.

First thing in the morning Kurt was in his seat, scribbling away in a notebook, his one hand hovering over his phone beside him. He looked tired himself, and there was a coffee cup on the edge of his desk. Blaine smiled and sat down in the desk directly in front of him, the day before seeming to be washed from his mind in an instant-all but the parts with Kurt.

"Good morning, Kurt," he said with a smile.

Kurt lifted his head and his mouth turned up at the corners. When Kurt Hummel smiled it lit up his entire face, and made his eyes look brighter. He just had a very genuine smile. "Morning."

Blaine regarded the coffee cup. "Lima bean?" he asked, referring to the logo on the mug.

Kurt glanced up again and it seemed to take him a moment to realize what Blaine was talking about. He laughed to himself-making Blaine's heart race once more-and shrugged. "Local coffee place, quite the hang out."

"You seem to be a fan," Blaine said jokingly. "I'm assuming that's coffee?"

"Grande non-fat mocha," Kurt muttered absently. "Obviously," he added, just as joking, a small smile playing around his lips. 

Blaine mentally noted the order in his head. Maybe they could get coffee sometime together? He tried to form the words on his lips as Kurt bent his head, taking a sip from the mug, but they just wouldn't work on his lips. Kurt brushed a loose hair out of his face just as Wes took a seat beside Blaine, snickering quietly.

"Puppy," Wes whispered and Blaine blushed, turning away from Kurt to stare at Wes. "You're doing it again," he said quietly, grinning.

He didn't reply, but turned away and hid the smile that was forming on his lips.

Blaine found Kurt around at lunch again and they sat together, Wes conveniently disappearing, claiming that he had work to do elsewhere. Blaine still had the worry that he would mess up and say something wrong, but whenever he seemed to stumble with his words Kurt only smiled that gorgeous smile and acted as though it was nothing. He was falling hard, and yet it didn't seem to bother him. If this was what it felt like, this floating-on-clouds-when -we're-together type of feeling, then Blaine really only wanted to fall faster.

The day, however, came to too quick an end and he was surprised to be wishing that school could go on longer just so he could talk to Kurt Hummel again.

Blaine raised his head again, and yet the clock only seemed to be going slower. The room was quiet but for the ticking of the clock, the scraping of pencils on paper, and the heavy sighs that came and went from various parts of the room. Blaine was already fighting the urge to sleep once more and decided to busy himself with work for as long as he could, but his mind was still on Kurt. His work was only done with half of him really there, and when he glanced at it before finishing he realized this and had to do it over again. He needed to get his grades back up, and he couldn't do that with work produced from a mushy-brained Blaine.

"Alright, you're all free to leave." When those words left the professors mouth the entire room practically jumped up and headed for the door. Blaine slipped through the other people, his fuzzy mind wanting to go home and rest some more.

The halls were empty again, everyone already having gone home by now, and Blaine barely looked up as he went to leave. 

"Hey, Blaine."

Blaine lifted his head at the familiar voice to see Kurt walking towards him. He straightened and smiled broadly. "Pleasant surprise," he said. "What brings you to the empty halls of Dalton Academy so late?"

"Extra work, finishing up some assignments," Kurt shrugged. "And you?"

"Paying for my punishable crimes," Blaine said dramatically. He rolled his eyes and Kurt laughed. He did love making him laugh. "Future fugitive in disguise as a teenage troublemaker, at your service,” he said, giving a little mock bow.

"Should I be afraid?" Kurt asked jokingly.

Blaine shook his head, "I'm still a gentleman, even if I am going to be a fugitive."

They made their way towards the parking lot. Kurt had his bag hoisted over his shoulder, his other hand swinging between the two of them. Blaine wanted so badly to reach over and take that hand in his own. Instead, he kept his free hand stuffed in his pocket, flexing his fingers absently as he listened to Kurt talk. He liked to listen to his voice, too.

Outside, they leaned against the side of Kurt's car, the light reflecting off the surface and keeping them warm. "Were you going to walk home or...?" Kurt trailed away, glancing at the car. 

"Its fine, I can walk," Blaine said, smiling.

"No really, it wouldn't be any trouble at all," Kurt insisted, opening the passenger side door. 

Blaine smiled and set his hand on the door, "Thanks," he said quickly and ducked inside as Kurt rounded the vehicle and got inside from the driver's side. Blaine watched him take the keys out of his pocket and close the door. He started the car then looked over at Blaine, a small smile playing around his lips. "What's wrong?" Blaine asked.

"You know the door's open?" Kurt grinned.

Blaine turned his head and realized that it was, his cheeks flushing, closed it carefully, and then smiled. "All good." 

Kurt laughed and pulled out of the parking lot. Blaine couldn't take his eyes off him, and he paused in his thoughts, realizing that he was in a notably confined space with Kurt Hummel. He watched his steady eyes as he stared out at the road, his hands relaxed against the wheel. How was it that every little thing Kurt did made Blaine's heart feel like it was dancing a fox trot in his chest?

"So how long are you stuck in detention?" Kurt asked casually, glancing over. "You know...if you don't mind me asking..."

"A month," Blaine replied glumly, "and it's alright, I'm a pretty open person."

"A month?" Kurt echoed. "That sounds pretty drastic."

"Apparently missing class for a while costs a lot of make-up time," Blaine said, shrugging. "I guess I deserve it though, I mean I have missed a lot of classes..."

"Mostly your brother's fault though, right?" Kurt asked, his lip turned slightly upwards at the corner. 

Blaine told Kurt the directions to his house, and then Kurt reached out and turned on the radio. The sound hummed out of the speakers, filling the car with music. He twisted to sound knob down a little so that it was playing quietly in the background. With the windows slightly down and the soft sound of music-along with the company of Kurt-Blaine felt like the world was at peace. The music filled the pauses of silence between conversations, which weren't exactly awkward, but nice, and just sat there, enjoying the moment.

At one point the music faded away into commercials and then a DJ's voice drifted through. "Did any of you hear of another spotting of Silver yesterday?"

He bit down on his lip, attempting to look as though he was hardly listening to the broadcast. Blaine shifted nervously, pretending to be distracted by something beyond the window.

"Our local hero was seen aiding the local forces at the William Bank where a break-in had occurred. Several heavily armed men-all taken down by the coolest of heroes. Silver surely has local baddies on edge." The DJ gave a laugh. "Some are calling him 'nothing more than a crazy guy in a weird suit' but if you've seen the guy in action, I'm pretty sure you'd eat those words then and there."

"Silver Spark," Kurt mumbled. He sounded distracted, almost as though he wasn't conscience that he was speaking aloud. He blinked and looked over at Blaine, "Have you heard of him?"

"Who hasn't?" Blaine said, swallowing hard. The hand that was resting against his knee was tense and he tried to tap his fingers, but that only looked even more anxious. 

Kurt smiled, "Guess you're right. He is the local hero."

Blaine tried to find the meaning behind his words-if there was any-feeling unsteady. He didn't sound too interested in Silver. Maybe that was better, though. 'Stop worrying,' he told himself, tapping his fingers against his knee again, 'He doesn't suspect anything and doesn't have any reason to.' Still, the words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them, sounding much too nervous, "So...what do you think of him?"

He shrugged. "He's doing good things, isn't he?"

"Yeah..." Blaine didn't know exactly how to respond. He didn't exactly feel right arguing for himself. 

Kurt looked at him out of the corner of his eye, raising a brow. "What do you think of our city's masked hero?" he asked. "Are you on the side of the 'he's just a crazy guy in a mask' team?"

"No," Blaine said a little too quickly. He bit down on his lip again, forcing himself to choose his words carefully before he spoke. "I think that he's helping out and maybe some people are just not ready for something that feels like a character out of a comic book." His mind wandered back to the day before, thinking about the terrified look on the woman's face as she held her son close, and how all he'd wanted to do was help her. "He's probably a good guy under all that armor."

The music started again on the station and they were nearly at Blaine's house. Blaine rested his other hand against the dashboard, his fingers tapping quietly along to the song.

The car pulled into the driveway.

"Thanks for the ride," Blaine smiled, stepping out.

"No problem," Kurt replied, "See you tomorrow?"

Blaine caught the uncertainty in his voice and his hand froze on the open door. "Why so unsure of that?" he asked, keeping his voice as level as he could. Was it possible he gave himself away...?

Kurt raised his brows, "You are a delinquent, aren't you? Who knows if you'll come on time."

He exhaled slightly and laughed. "I'll make an entrance tomorrow, just to show that I am. A large sign reading 'I am here' sounds about right, don't you think?" he said with a grin. "They can't say that I've ditched then." His hand loosened from the door and he looked towards the house. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Kurt. Thanks again for the ride!"

Blaine hurried into the house, the sound of the car fading as it disappeared away down the street. Once inside, he stood in the doorway, his back against the closed door, his eyes closed. 'You're falling hard,' he told himself, 'and yet it feels so right.'