April 22, 2012, 6:48 p.m.
The Proposal: Chapter 2
K - Words: 2,097 - Last Updated: Apr 22, 2012 Story: Complete - Chapters: 6/6 - Created: Apr 22, 2012 - Updated: Apr 22, 2012 1,093 0 0 0 1
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Blaine hissed as Kurt dragged him down the hallway, into his office. “Why are we--what is happening--”
“They were going to deport me,” Kurt said, sitting down at his desk and burying his face in his hands. “Because I went to Mexico to sign Santana when my visa was being processed.”
“Fuck,” Blaine breathed. “I knew that was going to come back and bite us in the ass, I knew it--”
“Well it has,” Kurt said, lifting his head and glaring at Blaine. “And the only way I’m going to be able to stay here and keep my job is if you pretend to be my husband, got it?”
“No way,” Blaine exclaimed. “Kurt, you can’t seriously expect--”
“It’s as much for your good as it is mine,” Kurt said, shrugging.�
“And how is that?” Blaine asked, crossing his arms.
“They were going to replace me with Sandy, Blaine,” Kurt explained, shuddering at the thought of it. “Sandy. And as soon as he was in charge, you know what he’d do? He’d fire you because you’re much too close to me.” Kurt leaned forward, going in for the kill, “Think about it, Blaine. All those late nights, all those coffee orders, all your missed family parties . . . All down the drain.”
Blaine paled. Kurt smirked - he had Blaine exactly where he wanted him now. There was no way Blaine would give up all the hard work he’d put into being Kurt’s secretary.�
“Don’t worry, as soon as the allotted time is over, we can get a nice and quick divorce,” Kurt said. He watched Blaine’s face closely. “I hope you weren’t waiting on someone special?”
“N-no!” Blaine stammered. “No, but--this is illegal, Kurt--”
Kurt waved a hand. “They’re looking for terrorists, not music producers. So, we have a deal? Because if I go down, Anderson, you’re going down with me, and all your dreams of touching millions of lives with music are down the drain. Right now, your wagon is hitched to mine, understood?”
Blaine looked like he wanted to protest, but he thought better of it. Kurt approved. He’d always thought Blaine had a better brain than he showed sometimes.�
“Alright,” Blaine agreed reluctantly. “But if we get arrested and thrown in jail, I’m blaming you.”
Kurt rolled his eyes.
-
There was a line that stretched back to the doors. That was not acceptable.
“Excuse me,” Kurt said as he cut all the way to the front, Blaine hurrying at his heels and apologizing.
“Kurt, you can’t--there’s a line, Kurt--”
Kurt got to the window just as the person already there was moving away, so he shoved himself of the next person, ignoring their angry yelling, and smiled charmingly at the man behind the counter.�
“I’m here for a fiancee visa,” he said.
The man behind the counter - large, black, unimpressed, with a name tag that said Azimio - gave him a look.�
“Hummel, right?”
Kurt blinked in surprise. “Well, yes, but--”
“Ms. Sylvester will see you around back,” Azimio said, sounding bored.�
Kurt paused, brow furrowing. “But I’m just applying for a visa, why does she--”
Azimio gave him a look. “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Come, Blaine.”
Blaine, much like the good minion he sometimes was, trotted obediently after him.
They managed to find an office for Ms. Sue Sylvester easily enough. Kurt rapped sharply on the door and opened it when someone barked, “Come in,” from inside. He hurried inside, Blaine still right behind him, and paused upon seeing Ms. Sylvester.
She was tall, even sitting down, with cropped blonde hair and a sneer. She was also wearing a pantsuit - a pantsuit, for crying out loud.�
“Ms. Sylvester,” Kurt said, holding out his hand and letting none of his horror show on his face. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Kurt Hummel and this is my fiance, Blaine Anderson.” The word fiance still felt odd in his mouth - odder still when it was placed next to Blaine’s name.
Ms. Sylvester eyed them and didn’t take Kurt’s hand. “Sit down,” she said brusquely. “Alright, I have one question for you two idiots: are you committing fraud so Lady Face here doesn’t deported back to Maple Land?”
Kurt and Blaine’s jaws dropped in unison. Kurt, however, managed to recover more quickly.
“No,” he said, taking Blaine’s hand and ignoring how clammy it felt. “Of course not. We’re in love, Ms. Sylvester, and I’m shocked that you’d think otherwise.”
Ms. Sylvester raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh?” she asked. “So you don’t think it’s suspicious that days before your deportation, you pull out a fiance from nowhere?”
Kurt sniffed imperiously. “Blaine and I were keeping it under wraps due to our working situation,” he explained.
Blaine, to Kurt’s surprise, suddenly jumped in the conversation. “Especially because of the promotion I’m receiving next month,” he added, even throwing in a charming, aw shucks grin.
Kurt raised an eyebrow, wondering what Blaine was dithering on about. “Don’t tell her about the promotion, darling,” he said, gritting his teeth.
Blaine flashed a mischievous grin at him, then turned back to Ms. Sylvester. “Oh, but it’s such good news! Next month, I’m being promoted to producer. That way it isn’t awkward, what with me being Kurt’s secretary and all.”
“I see,” Ms. Sylvester said, looking between them. “The problem is, you see, is that we received a tip off from a Mr. Sandy Ryerson that you two are not a real couple.”
“Sandy Ryerson is a man we fired today, and he probably has some sort of grudge,” Kurt cut in quickly.
Ms. Sylvester rolled her eyes. “Don’t interrupt me while I’m speaking, Porcelain. Now, the fact of the matter is that I don’t give a damn if you two are a real couple or not, but my bosses do and unfortunately they take it very seriously. Which means this: this Monday, I will be giving you two an interview, in separate rooms, where you will answer a series of questions that any committed couple should know about each other. Should you get even a single question wrong, your visa application will be denied and Tickle Me Dough Face here will be deported back to the Land of Reindeer, capiche?” Ms. Sylvester leaned forward, a smirk on her face. “And let’s not forget the 250,000 dollar fine young Burt Reynolds here will be facing, as well as a five year stint in jail.”
Kurt could hear Blaine taking in deep breaths beside him, possibly on the point of hyperventilating, and said, “Of course, we understand. We’ll be in bright and early Monday morning.” Remembering Blaine’s comment earlier that day, he added, “Of course, we’ll be attending Blaine’s grandmother’s 90th birthday this weekend . . . Do you think we’ll be back in time, sweetheart?”
“The plane ride from Alaska isn’t that long,” Blaine answered.
Kurt blinked in surprise: first, at Blaine being able to gracefully tell Kurt where he lived and second because, Alaska, really? Kurt’s first thought probably would have been Iowa or Ohio, because goddamn if Blaine didn’t sometimes act like an all-American boy with his manners and his aw shucks smiles.
“So we’ll be here at nine, let’s say?” Kurt told Ms. Sylvester sweetly.
Ms. Sylvester gave them a long, hard look, then sighed. “Alright,” she muttered. “But I’ll be keeping an eye on you two. If you’re up to anything, and I mean anything, I’ll find out!” She opened her desk and pulled out two thick books. “Here is a list of questions we’ll be asking you. Look over them in advance, make sure you know the answers.” She pushed the books over at them. “Now get out of my office.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Kurt said and stood, taking Blaine’s elbow and grabbing the books with his free hand.
They made it out of the building without saying a word to each other before Kurt sighed heavily.
“Well that woman was not what I was expecting,” he said. “I can’t believe she’s actually working with other people. And did you hear what she called us? How on earth does she still have her job? I’m thinking of writing a complaint to her manager--”
He turned to see Blaine glaring at him with furious eyes. Kurt blinked in surprise. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Blaine angry before.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Were you not in the same room, Kurt?” Blaine asked incredulously. “Did you not hear the things I did?!”
Kurt waved a hand. “Oh, come now--”
“We’re not doing this, Kurt,” Blaine announced, pronouncing every word carefully.
“Don’t be silly, of course we are,” Kurt said, moving past Blaine.
Blaine grabbed Kurt’s arm and spun him around. “No, we’re not. Five years in prison. A 250,000 dollar fine. No, we’re going to go back in and tell Ms. Sylvester we lied and beg for mercy.”
Kurt glared at Blaine. “It’s only five years of jail if we get caught, Blaine,” he said. “We won’t get caught. We’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” He smiled. “And that thing you said about the promotion! Flawless, she completely bought it.”
“Oh, I was serious about that,” Blaine snapped.
Kurt rolled his eyes, “As if--”
“Kurt, I am looking at a 250,000 dollar fine and five years of jail time, you are giving me a promotion for this.” Blaine paused, then added, “And you’ll lay down some demos with my artist.”
Kurt made a face. “No, not until he gives us another CD with better material on it--”
“Fine, then I’ll walk away right now and you’ll be screwed, Kurt,” Blaine exclaimed.
Kurt considered Blaine’s angry face and the tight grip he had on Kurt’s arm. “Fine, fine, I’ll work with your second-rate amateur and you’ll get a promotion.” Kurt sighed. Blaine relaxed a little. “Now, where exactly in Alaska do you live?”
“Sitka,” Blaine answered, pulling his hand from Kurt’s elbow entirely, looking much more relaxed and much less angry. Kurt, for some reason, almost felt disappointed. He so rarely saw Blaine angry that getting a face full of it was rather--
Kurt cleared his throat. Best not to think about it.
“Sitka,” he repeated slowly, tasting the sound of it. He’d never heard of Sitka before. “Alright. We’ll fly up tomorrow morning then at around eight, shall we? And I’ll spring us for first class, even though the only improvement they have is a little more room. We’ll spend the weekend with your parents study the book Sylvester gave us, come back on Monday, ace the test, have a quick ceremony, then--”
“I want you to ask me nicely,” Blaine interrupted.
Kurt frowned. “Ask you nicely?” he asked, nonplussed.
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Ask me nicely to marry you, Kurt,” he explained, with a hint of impatience.
Kurt scoffed, “Is this really necessary--”
Blaine smirked, an expression so foreign to his face that Kurt did a double-take upon seeing it. “Yes. If we’re doing this, I want you to ask me nicely”
Kurt looked at the ground, then at the pants of his Armani suit, then at Blaine’s face. Sighing, he bent to one knee and looked up at Blaine, who was staring down at him with frank amusement. One day, Kurt thought, one day, I will get you back for this, Blaine Anderson, even if you are helping me out of a sticky situation right now.
“Will you, Blaine Anderson, be my husband?” he asked flatly, ignoring the looks they were getting from the nearby people.
Blaine considered it. “Not if you’re going to ask like that,” he decided. “A little more enthusiasm, please?”
Kurt rolled his eyes. “Will you, Blaine Anderson, pretty please with cherries on top, marry me?”
Blaine laughed a little. “I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but yes, I will.”
“Good,” Kurt said, standing and dusting off his pants. “I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow then.”
Blaine sighed heavily. “See you tomorrow,” he said, and walked away.