"Sue you wanted to see me?" Kurt asked, lingering in the doorway of her office.

Sue flipped the file that she was flicking through closed and hid it away in her desk drawer, replacing it with a new one. Without looking up, she gestured to the seat opposite hers – she didn't have to glance up, only one person was ever allowed to call her by her real name.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, slipping into her office and shutting the door behind him, walking over and sitting down on the chair directly opposite of Sue on the other side of her desk. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it again when Sue held her hand up at him.

"I have another case for you," Sue said, sliding the file across the desk and placing it in front of Kurt, who glanced down at it with a raised eyebrow before picking it up and flipping through it. She leaned back against her chair and sighed a little, glancing around the room.

"Peter Jamesfield?" Kurt questioned, his eyes scanning over the information on the file.

At first glance it all seemed to be along the lines of a normal case, middle-aged man (maybe in his mid-thirties, or early forties judging from the picture attached to the documents), a near non-existent criminal record – aside from a few parking and speeding tickets that dated back to the years when Kurt was just a child, and a stable family upbringing.

"Why does that sound so familiar?" he asked, glancing up from the file.

"He was recently declared the one hundred-and-seventh wealthiest men in the United States. Made his fortune through investing and buying shares in small businesses, I'm pretty sure that he has some shares here in Lima too," Sue informed him, watching his eyes scan over the next page on the file. "Born and raised in Ohio, moved to New York when he was seventeen, graduated from Yale a year early with a PHD in accounting and business – an exceptional student all around really," she added.

"Okay so, aside from the whole money fiasco, why would anybody want him dead?" Kurt asked, reviewing Peter's old school reports and grades.

"You're not here to ask questions, Porcelain," Sue muttered, folding her arms over her chest, before sighing softly. "What I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room, and you will tell nobody, understand?" she said, her voice stern.

Kurt nodded.

"His wife submitted the request two or three days back," Sue started. "The wife – Emily Jamesfield, found her husband in bed with another man, she says that he's always been unfaithful and abusive, and she's tired of if… she wants something done about it. There's a decent amount of cash in it for us if we carry it out quickly and we keep it clean," she explained.

Kurt nodded his head again. "When does she want it done?" he questioned, closing the file again and folding his hands in his lap.

"By the end of the week," Sue answered. "If it takes any longer than that, then she cuts the pay in half.

Kurt nodded in understanding and picked up the file; slipping it into his bag and zipping it back up. "Don't worry, I'll get it done on time," he said, standing up and walking over towards the door.

"Porcelain," Sue said, her tone stern but with a little more softness than before.

"Yeah?" Kurt said, turning back to face her.

"I understand that your father is out of the hospital now… and I also hear that you have quite a large sum of hospital bills, am I right?" Sue uttered.

Kurt just nodded, swallowing hard.

"If you pull this off, then a chunk of the money is yours, you can pay off your father's bills and still have some left over for yourself," Sue said, unable to stop the way the corner of her lips quirked up into a small smile. "Maybe put it away for college or something."

Kurt's face lit up. "Thank you, Sue! I won't let you down!" he beamed.

"I know you won't," Sue said, a few moments after Kurt practically skipped out of her office. She picked up her glasses from the desk slipping them back on and positioning them correctly on the tip of her nose. She pulled out the file that she was originally looking at from the desk drawer, jotting down a few notes about the case in her diary.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, it's never an easy part of this job," the doctor murmured, scribbling a few things down on the chart that was attached to a fancy looking clipboard. "You have cancer, Mr. Hummel – specifically Hodgkin lymphoma… your heart attack actually saved your life, if you had not been brought in because of it, the cancer would have gone unnoticed."

Kurt felt his entire world crash around him at that. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the ticking of the clock that hung on the wall, and the murmured chatter between his Dad and the doctor – who, by one glance at the door had discovered his name to be Dr. James Franklin.

"No," he whispered, snapping him out of his trance as the two other men looked his way. "No this can't be happening!" he snapped, standing up and feeling a little dizzy.

Burt was just about to stand up and reassure his son when Dr. Franklin started speaking again. "The good thing is that we caught it early, and so it's only in the first stages," he said, hoping to provide a small sense of hope for the young boy. "This cancer is very rare, but has one of the highest cure rates – standing at about ninety-per cent. Usually I would just recommend a healthy dosage of chemotherapy, but in this case I believe that it would be best to try radiotherapy too."

Kurt's eyes widened a little. "T-that's a lot of treatment."

"But it's necessary," Dr. Franklin informed him, glancing up at Kurt with a look of pity in his eyes. That's what Kurt hated the most… the pity.

"How much is all of this going to cost?" Burt asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"It's not going to come cheap, but it is necessary Mr. Hummel. Without this treatment, you're just going to get worse," Dr. Franklin said.

"How much?" Burt asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

The doctor sighed and jotted a six-figure number down on his clipboard, turning to face both Burt and his son.

Burt nearly fainted. "W-we can't afford this!" he exclaimed, shaking his head.

Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat, and rested a hand on his dad's knee, trying to calm him down. "We'll do it," He murmured, earning a strange look from his father. "We'll find the money, Dad. It's for your health… we have to do it."

Burt just sighed and nodded his head after a good half an hour of arguing with Kurt. Once his son was set on something there was no trying to change his mind.

Kurt skipped the rest of the day's lessons, opting for heading around towards under the bleachers. He tugged out the file that Sue had given him and spent a good few hours figuring out their course of action. He called up a few of his sources and was able to find out that Peter Jamesfield would be at one of Lima's only gay bars that night.

From then on, he pulled out his notebook and started devising a plan. This wasn't like any other case; he had to get this right. If he was going to do it in the middle of the bar, there was no way that Mike would be able to take his gun with him. Kurt didn't plan on telling many other people, keeping the information restricted to only those that were necessary.

In the end, he ended up deciding on only Mike and Puck just in case he needed the muscle. That was it, the only two people that he was intent on telling. He internally debated for hours with himself on telling Puck, the boy could hardly be trusted to be discreet when it came to secrets. Eventually, though he came to the conclusion that it would be better to tell him just in case something did happen and he needed back up, sure Mike might have been able to take care of it, but he didn't have that intimidating presence that Puck did.

So, he pulled his phone out and sent the two boys a text message, telling them to skip last period and meet him under the bleachers, and then he waited, confident in his plan.

As usual, Mike arrived on time, asking him what the emergency was, but he decided to wait for Puck – despite his record at being terrible with punctuality. They once had to put an entire mission on hold because the so called 'muscle' of the group was busy.

Eventually though, about fifteen minutes later Puck arrived and leaned back against the wall, cigarette stuck in his mouth.

"Those things will kill you y'know," Kurt mumbled, gesturing towards the cigarette.

"Bite me, Hummel," Puck scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What's so important anyway?" he asked.

Kurt started informing them about their mission, keeping some information on a strictly need to know basis. He held back the fact that the guy was a millionaire and the information that Sue told him in confidence.

"Basically, Puck you'll be there if anything goes wrong and I need some assistance, same goes for you Mike," Kurt explained. "Not that I'm expecting things to go wrong."

Puck and Mike both nodded in unison.

"I don't want the rest of the group knowing about this mission just yet, if things go right then we'll tell them, but until then it's just us three," Kurt explained. "Don't get distracted, and remember your positions," he said, glaring at Puck. "That means no hitting on the girls!"

Puck rolled his eyes. "As if I would."

Kurt chuckled and folded his arms over his chest, glancing between the two boys. "So are you in?"

Puck and Mike both exchanged glances with one another before nodding again.

"We're in."