It was a quarter to four and the party had finally wound down. The cleaning staff was moving about the house. The host and the few friends staying the night were bedding down, either alone or with a guest. No one noticed the small, lithe figure flitted through the hallways of the mansion, keeping to the shadows. He wore a wonderfully fitted tuxedo with his hair slicked back against his head in a suave manner, "Okay Cagebird. You'll reach the study at the end of the hallway," a smart and stilted voice said in his ear. "When Backflip was there earlier he should have left it open for you."

"Gotcha," Cagebird replied, touching his fingers to the piece hidden in his ear. "What's the combo to the safe?"

The man's voice in his ear rambled off a set of numbers as Cagebird reached the study doors. They were open like he'd been promised and he slipped in quietly. He moved to the back of the study and plugged the numbers into the safe hidden behind the painting of a man in a football jersey.

Immediately the lock clicked open and Cagebird sighed happily as he took the package from its place. It was very small and light and wrapped in brown paper to give it a very boring quality. It was amazing that they'd been able to track it down given its generic appearance. "Gavel? I've got it. See you in a bit."

Gavel laughed in his ear but Cagebird missed his reply. Instead, a different voice spoke up behind him, "I wouldn't count on that Mr. Cagebird. Turn around."

Cagebird lifted his hands slightly and did as he was told, keeping a strong grip on the package. What met him then was a group of five heavily armed men, all with guns pointing at him, "How may I help you lovely young men today?" Cagebird asked, an unperturbed smile on his face.

"You can start by handing over that package," The front man said, taking a step forward with his hand extended. The front man was a tall and stocky thing with big neck and muscles. He looked like an older version of the football player in the painting.

"Now, I just cannot do that Karofsky. This was originally the property of the United States government. I'm doing my duty to return it," Cagebird replied simply, with a rather smarmy shrug and quirk to his lips.

Karofsky looked to his goons and simply ordered, "Get him."

Cagebird took that second's distraction to jolt forward, disarm the bigger of the men and barreled out of the room. He'd spent the majority of his time in high school on the track team and ran constantly, needless to say, he was fast.

An alarm sounded above him and he knew he had only a few moments to get out before backup arrived. Spotting a door leading to a balcony he jumped out onto the roof just below the opening and began crawling down the singled surface. Above him were shouts and a moment a bullet whizzed past his head, "Shit," He hissed, realizing he'd put himself in a position where he was a sitting duck.

Another shot rang out and grazed his shoulder, "Shit!" He hissed once more and out of reflex grabbed his shoulder and immediately slipped farther down the roof. There was blood but the shot wasn't anywhere near fatal. He'd had worse before.

Cagebird sped up and hopped down to the patio below as the front doors opened and men started to pour out. They were shouting at one another in deep, grunting voices and that confusion gave Cagebird the chance to sprint away to where the valet had parked his car several hours earlier.

As he started his car and pealed out of the driveway he contacted Gavel, "I was spotted."

Gavel cursed softly, "I knew things were going too smoothly. Were you injured?"

"They were apparently crappy shots because they grazed my shoulder and ruined my Dior tuxedo. I still have the package though," Cagebird replied hastily, checking his rearview mirror, "And they're following me."

"Lose them, clean up your shoulder, and once you've done that continue to the train station. Our contact should hopefully be getting off soon."

"Hopefully?"

"We haven't been able to reach her. Backflip is afraid that something may have happened."

Cage bird applied pressure to his shoulder and found blood already crusting around the edges. Good, that meant it wasn't very bad. "And if she isn't there?"

There was silence on Gavel's end for a moment, "Come up with something. Isn't thinking on the fly one of your strong suits?"

Cagebird snorted derisively, "No."

"Well then we'd better pray that luck is on your side my friend." Gavel said unhelpfully. Cagebird confirmed the message and turned his lights off to run dark, one of his specialties. He had a little over hours to lose them and treat his shoulder. Piece of cake.

Two hours later the train stopped at the depot and passengers began unloading. One of those passengers was on his cell phone, talking tiredly into the receiver, "Yes dad. I'm thrilled to be back too. But it'll be better once I actually get home," he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed softly. "Yes dad, I should be home in an hour or so. No, you don't need to come get me. I will get a taxi. Okay, listen dad; I need both my hands to carry all my stuff so I will talk to you when I get home. Love you too."

He closed his phone with another tired sigh and shot a look at the man across from him. "Dads, what can you do with them?"

The other man laughed roughly but didn't reply. Kurt followed him off the train but not before checking his bangs in the window. It was far too early for him to be up and he really had not gotten his beauty rest on that nasty old train. The platform was very empty for 6 in the morning. It was a Sunday so there weren't many commuters waiting to leave.

He was one of the last people off the train and settled his bags on the ground to call a taxi, "Hi, my name is Kurt Hummel and I need a taxi to come get me," he gave the cab company his location and settled on a bench to wait. A little farther down the track a man caught his eye.

A man was striding towards him wearing a tuxedo with a sports jacket over his shoulders and his hair a curly mess on the top of his head. He was attractive enough with odd triangular shaped eyebrows, tan skin, and bright eyes. His eyes were roving the crowd, looking frantically for someone while he hurried down the platform. At one point he stopped to talk to the conductor who shook his head and the man's shoulders visibly crumpled.

The man turned slowly, eyes still searching and then their eyes met. The tuxedoed man's face lit up and he suddenly sped forward to approach Kurt. "Hey! There you are!" his voice was smooth and Kurt found himself glancing around the station for the person he could possibly be talking to. "I'm so sorry I'm late, forgive me?"

The man stopped in front of Kurt with a smile on his lips. Kurt stared up at him for a moment, "I'm sorry. You have the wrong person."

The stranger continued to smile but when he spoke again his voice was hurried and rough, "I need you to not make a scene." Before Kurt could reply the man had grabbed his elbow and bags and started to drag him farther down the track, casting a careful glance over his shoulder.

"Excuse me!" Kurt intoned, a bubble of panic rising in his throat. "What do you think you're doing?"

The man glanced wildly behind them and stiffened. He glanced to the side and found a sheltered kiosk between two vending machines and tugged them into the confined space. "I need your help. Take this package and keep it hidden for a day or two. Then I need you to take it to this address," He took a wallet out of the inside of his jacket and placed a simple white business card in Kurt's hand, "And give it to the person out front and tell them Cagebird sent you and the password is Pavarotti."

Kurt shook his head wildly, "No, no, no, no!"

The man, presumably Cagebird, took both Kurt's elbows and held him fast; staring deep into Kurt's ever changing blue ones, his own hazel eyes appearing genuine. "Please!"

Again Kurt shook his head trying to break the spell the stranger was casting over him. "No!" The man shook him, but not roughly, and Kurt found himself looking into those sincere eyes once more,

"Please!" Before Kurt knew what he was doing he nodded slowly,

"O-Okay," The relief on the man's face was like a ray of sunlight and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Cagebird placed the package in Kurt's hands, momentarily clasping his warm, tanned, and callused hands on top of Kurt's. "Thank you. Courage," After a reassuring squeeze Cagebird peeked around the corner and then disappeared.

Kurt stood in stunned silence for a moment until he remembered he was holding something that was probably illegal and thrust it into his bag and stared impatiently out into the street, waiting for his cab. A car pulled up to the side of the platform and three burly and truly intimidating looking men jumped out. They pushed past Kurt and he turned to berate him, but then he saw it, the ominous flash of a gun barrel. "Watch it," One of the men grunted and took off and Kurt had the horrible, sinking feeling that they were after the man from earlier, Cagebird.

He stood stock still, rooted to the spot, wanting to go back to the platform and somehow help the man with the triangular eyebrows, and staying here and waiting for his cab. Mercifully, a few moments later a cab pulled up and Kurt flew into the back seat, rambling his address to the man up front. Once the car was in motion and had left the train station behind did Kurt allow himself to relax.

When Kurt got home he was frighteningly calm as the cabby helped him get his stuff out of the back. Kurt paid him and the next thing Kurt knew was his entire family flying at him. Burt got to him first and wrapped him in a bear hug that knocked the breath right out of him, "It's about time you got here!"

Next was Carole whose entire face was lit up like the fourth of July, "I'm so glad you're home sweetheart! We have so much shopping to do!"

Finally Finn deigned to hug him in a brotherly way, "Dude, it's really awesome that you're here."

Kurt grinned at all of them, feeling better than he had in months back in New York. Cagebird and his package were pushed fully to the back of his mind and Kurt allowed himself to bask in the familial warmth. Carole immediately took him by the arm and into the kitchen where she could show off her new cooking skills, "I've been watching this new cooking show on TV that's wonderful! It's even local, can you believe that? Apparently they shoot it at this old barn that your father said you used to visit with your mom. The lady that does the show had the most amazing recipe for Apple Pie. It's very light, I'm sure you'll love it." She crooned as she settled him in the kitchen chair while Burt and Finn lugged his baggage upstairs.

Kurt beamed at her and settled farther into the chair as she puttered around. God, it was good to be home.

"You did what?" The thin Asian man fumed at Cagebird.

Cagebird held up his hands, "You told me to figure something out. I stood on that platform as long as I felt safe and the entire train had emptied so I pulled a Soul Sister. It worked in Moscow," He primly crossed his legs and winced slightly as he moved his recently treated shoulder.

"Barely, it barely worked. God Blaine-" The man groaned, grasping at his hair. "You gave the package to the man three, three days ago Blaine and he still hasn't brought it here!"

Blaine opened his mouth to reply but the door opened and another man slipped in. He had a naturally cool manner and a soft smile on his lips, "Wes, you need to calm down or you're going to have a heart attack."

Wes flapped his lips like he was trying to figure out what to say but Blaine beat him to it. "David's right. Calm down. I've been doing some snooping and I figured out who I gave the package to. I'm going to his family's home and try to track him down there. His name is Kurt Hummel and his family lives here but he moved to New York right after high school, I don't know if he's visiting or staying for a while. He had a massive number of bags with him."

David settled the pile of papers on Wes's desk. "And I finally got a confirmation of our contact. The people in Florida said that she never got to the train station. She's been missing for a few days. It's a good thing that Blaine handed off the package. At least it's not in their hands right now. When are you going to call him?"

Blaine nodded to Wes, who was still looking somewhere between pissed and flabbergasted, "As soon as Wes decides to stop yelling at me."

Wes looked like he was getting ready to really start yelling once more but after a glance at the glare on David's face he visibly deflated. With a tired wave of his hand he dismissed Blaine who hurried out of the office before Wes could work himself into another rage. He made a stop at his desk to grab the folded piece of paper with Kurt Hummel written across the top and the address underneath.

Blaine settled at his desk chair and dialed the number, twirling the paper between his fingertips. The phone rang a multitude of times until finally a familiar voice answered, "Hummel residence."

"May I please speak with Kurt?" Blaine had put on his best phone voice and made sure to smile as he talked.

"This is him," Kurt replied and Blaine felt a literal weight life off his shoulders. "Who's this?"

Blaine made sure to tread carefully as he spoke, "You may not remember me, we met a few mornings ago at the train station, I gave you a package to deliver-"

Kurt interrupted him by shrieking. "You!" into the phone and causing Blaine to wince but proceed with the conversation he'd planned earlier in his mind.

"I'm calling here on business and would rather-" Kurt cut him off.

"What are you doing calling my home? There were guys after you earlier! This call could be traced by them and now my entire family could be in trouble!"

Blaine sighed, "This is a secure line. I'm with a branch of the FBI. I'm just calling for the package. You failed to do as I asked."

Kurt waited a moment and spoke confusedly, "The package? Oh! The package!" Blaine had to force himself not to roll his eyes, "Well I didn't know if wherever I was supposed to take it was safe so I just left it in my bag."

Blaine sighed and decided it wasn't a good idea to antagonize him when he was in possession of something so vital, "Is there any way I could meet with you to get the package personally? This is a matter of national security."

"I don't-" Kurt murmured but Blaine stopped him before he could overthink anything.

"People could die if I don't get that package. It contains some highly important information that will save many lives. But first I need to get it from you."

Kurt remained silent on the other end for a few terror inducing moments until finally Kurt whispered, "Okay. Where do you want to meet?"

Blaine's smile was so wide that it hurt his cheeks, "There is a lovely coffee shop near the center of the city if you would like to meet there. It's called the Lima Bean, do you know of it?" Kurt made a noise that Blaine took as a 'yes'. "Great, then I will see you there in thirty minutes; I look forward to meeting you once more."

Kurt sighed, "I'll see you then," and hung up. Blaine put down his phone and leapt up, pumping his fist into the air.

David peeked out of Wes's office, "Got a meeting?"

Blaine started to tidy up his desk space and shut down his computer, "Heading to get the package right now. See you when I get back," David waved at Blaine for luck and went back into Wes's office, shutting the door.

Kurt was waiting at the Lima Bean thirty minutes later, looking around furtively at the lacking number of people in the coffee shop. He was seated next to a window, watching the parking lot. Finally, a sleek and simply gorgeous silver car pulled up into the parking lot. Next, an equally gorgeous man stepped out of the car, running a hand over his slicked back curls.

Kurt recognized him immediately as the man from the train platform (Cagebird?) He was in much better shape this time. His black hair was parted at the side and slicked back against his head with a slight 50's wave. He had a healthier pallor to his skin and was dressed impeccably well. He caught Kurt's gaze and smiled serenely, waving a hand in acknowledgement and stepping into the coffee shop.

Immediately Cagebird hurried over to Kurt's side and Kurt stood. The man was close enough that Kurt could smell his intoxicating cologne and notice that Kurt was approximately two or three inches taller than the other man, "Hello Kurt, it's wonderful to see you again, you look ravishing today." Kurt blushed slightly and held out his hand,

"Mr. Cagebird."

Both those triangular eyebrows rose in amusement, "You can just call me Blaine if you want."

"Blaine?" Kurt asked. "Is that your real name or just a cover?" Blaine's response was a well-trained smirked. He glanced at Kurt's empty hand,

"Let me get you a drink. What do you usually get?"

Kurt blinked at Blaine before realizing that Blaine was sincere about getting him the drink, "Oh, um, Grande nonfat mocha."

Blaine grinned, "Great," He hurried over to the counter and ordered, "A Grande nonfat mocha and a medium drip. Thank you." Kurt waited patiently, looking over the man who claimed to be an agent, a special agent probably. He knew he was out of his mind to be doing anything with this person who could easily be lying to him.

Minutes later Blaine returned and settled the coffee in front of Kurt and reclined in his chair, "Thank you. How much do I owe you?" Kurt asked.

Blaine waved his hand in front of his face pleasantly, "Don't even think about, it's my treat. I do need to get that package from you and soon or my boss may possibly explode. And while that could be an interesting sight, I don't want to deal with the aftermath."

Kurt glanced down at the coffee cup in his hands, "I left the package at my house," Blaine went deathly silent in front of him and Kurt hurried to plead his case. "See, I thought that a coffee shop wouldn't be a safe place to exchange something that you said was of National security."

Blaine pursed his lips momentarily, "So, how did you expect to get the package to me?"

"I-" He stopped to think of a non-idiotic sounding way of saying, "I didn't think about that."

Blaine closed his eyes and massaged his temples, "Okay, here's what we'll do. We'll go to your house and pick it up and then I'll take it back to the Agency and then that will be that. Do you want me to follow you in your car?"

"I walked, my house isn't that far from here and I didn't feel like getting my car from my dad's shop," Kurt replied softly. Blaine took his hand to make him look up,

"Then we'll take my car. Ready?" Kurt nodded and ignored the empty warmth that Blaine's hand left on his skin.

Blaine led the way out to his car and opened the door for Kurt who slid into the sleek interior and almost melted against the seat. When Blaine got in on the other side he chuckled at Kurt's expression, "Like it?"

"OhGodyes. What is it?" Kurt replied, touching the dashboard daintily.

"An original Porsche 365," Blaine replied in something akin to adoration in his voice. He glanced over to Kurt's form reclining in the chair and a smile tilted his lips up. "Where to?" Kurt gave him the directions distractedly and Blaine took off.

Blaine liked to drive with music playing softly in the background. He had his obviously not original radio set on Top 40's. About five minutes away from Kurt's house Blaine murmured, "I need you to slide down in your seat."

Kurt slid first and then asked, "Why?"

"We're being tailed and I don't think they've spotted you yet," Kurt stayed down and Blaine drove a little farther and then asked, "Is there any place that I can drop you off other than your house?"

"My dad's shop. It's a few blocks away from here," He gave Blaine the directions and told him where to park so he could get out of the car without being seen. Before he got out of the car Blaine grabbed him by the back of the neck, sliding his fingers into the hairs at the base and whispered furiously, "Do what I told you to originally and tell Wes 'Pilgrim's Peach Puff." Immediately after that Blaine got out of the car with Kurt and waited until Kurt had slipped into the darkened shop and locked the door behind him.

Kurt listened carefully at the doorway and froze just as a two car doors slammed outside and gravel crunched beneath giant feet. "Good evening Mr. Cagebird," The man hissed, a manic lilt to his voice. "Quite the little mess you made of my men. How's your shoulder?"

"Healing," Blaine hissed. "How can I help you Mr. Karofsky?"

Mr. Karofsky sighed, "You can help me by giving me my package."

Blaine's voice was even as he replied, "I don't have it," Kurt felt his blood run cold as he heard the click of something heavy and steel sounding, most likely a gun. "It's at a secure location."

Karofsky's laugh sounded incredulous, "You want me to believe that tale Mr. Cagebird?"

Blaine's laugh was both hollow and sultry as his entire demeanor changed before both men's eyes. "It's the only tale I can give you, especially because it's true. It hasn't been in my possession in days. I'm off duty at the moment and just finished dropping my date off at his home." Kurt's blush reached all the way to the base of his hairline; thankfully it was still very dark in the house.

Karofsky's laugh was humorless and tinged with hysteria, "Him? You're a fag Mr. Cagebird? Who would have known?" Once his ringing laugh subsided he went on, "Well then, I'm sorry to have to ruined the end of your date, but I'm going to need you to take me to your 'secure location'. Let's get moving. You'll lead the way in your car."

Kurt knew he should feel idiotic about being so enthralled by the fact that Blaine said date and had most likely just made some comment about his sexual orientation, that he didn't realize he was alone until the sounds of cars on gravel faded away. Shaking himself out of his thoughts he ran to his Navigator which was parked in a far loading dock. He pulled up the door and drove the hulking thing out to the driveway. It was strange driving his car once more after getting used to walking and taking cabs in New York.

Back home everything was quiet and dark, thankfully. He sprinted up the stairs to his room and dug through his bag and found the package lying peacefully at the bottom. Tucking that under his arm he hurried back to his car, trying to figure out what Blaine had meant about "Pilgrim's Peach Puff". After he was out on the road again he plugged the address into the GPS which came up with the response of "Dalton Warbler Music Studios". Kurt stared at the address that he'd typed in and then to the address on the paper.

His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck and a moment later the lingering sensation of Blaine's fingers there propelled him to start driving. Hopefully he wasn't being led into any more trouble. Ten minutes later Kurt's car pulled up to the entrance which was guarded by a boy a little younger than Kurt. He looked incredibly dopey but eager as he spoke to Kurt through the window, "How can I help you?"

Kurt tentatively handed the card to the guy and before he could get the words out the boy handed the card back, "Oh, you need to give that to Thad, he's inside. Hey! This is Blaine's card, he's great. I love his voice."

"H-his voice?" Kurt squeaked out.

"Yeah, you know this is the headquarter for the Warblers? They're an a cappella singing group. They're still small and not that popular, but just wait, they're going to be amazing! Hey! Are you a singer?" The boy was looking at him so expectantly that Kurt found himself nodding before thinking of the ramifications. "Sweet! Okay, head on in."

Kurt's head whirled as he drove into a parking spot near the front. The building was an old red brick institution and he wondered if it had once been used as an academy or something. A brass plaque near the front of the building read the same as it had on his GPS and Kurt pushed the doors open to a small waiting room where a dark haired man sat behind a desk with a laptop and statue of a bird as his only decorations.

The man didn't glance up as Kurt hurried to the desk, cradling the package against his chest. Kurt placed the card on the desk and asked, "Are you Thad?" The man, presumably Thad, took the paper in his hands and finally looked up at Kurt, an expectant expression on his face. "Oh! Um, the password right?" Thad nodded. "Well, you see, when Cagebird, Blaine, gave me that card he told me the password in a rush and see it's been a really stressful evening and Blaine, Cagebird, whatever the hell you call him, he's in trouble and- Oh wait! Pavoratti." The man narrowed his eyes and then nodded to the door on the wall near the desk,

"Go through." Kurt hurried to the door and opened it, only to find himself facing a closet. He glanced at Thad who prompted, "Step inside." Kurt did as he was told and turned to stare at Thad who sighed and said, "Close the door." Kurt, feeling thoroughly foolish, closed the door and the next thing he knew the wall behind the jackets hanging in the closet opened onto a room filled with bustling men and crowded with desks.

Carefully Kurt slipped into the office and glanced around. A man a little taller than Kurt with blond hair wandered up to him with a pleasant expression on his face, "You looking for someone?"

"Wes?" Kurt ventured. The man nodded and led Kurt silently into another office with a glass window looking into the office. Two men could be seen inside talking. With a smile Kurt's guide knocked on the door and opened it,

"Hey, sorry to intrude but this guy was looking for you."

The taller man sitting in a chair on the other side of the desk got up, "Thank you Nick." Nick nodded, smiled once at Kurt and disappeared into the office. "Come in. I'm David and this is Wes. How can we help you?" David asked, the corner of his eyes crinkling kindly.

Kurt hurried and suddenly felt very intimidated as he set the car and the package on the desk, "Blaine told me to bring this to you-"

Wes's eyes opened a little, "So you're Mr. Hummel then?" Kurt nodded. "Well thank you, we can't express enough gratitude to you for bringing this back," He paused then asked, "Where is Blaine?"

Kurt took a nervous breath, "See, that's the thing, Blaine knew we were being tailed after coffee so he dropped me at my dad's shop and let me hide. A few moments later some guys with guns cornered him and I think one was named Karofsky, he may have been the ringleader. He told Blaine to take him to where he was hiding this package. Blaine told me before he left to tell you… Pilgrim's Peach Puff." The two men were immediately on their feet and pulling their jackets. "Wait! Do you know where they were taking him?"

"Yes, thank you for telling us, we'll go and recover him now, hoping he's still alive," Wes replied.

"But-" Kurt murmured and both men stopped to look at him inquisitively, "I want to go with you. I got him into this mess by not delivering the package earlier; I want to make sure he's okay."

Wes shook his head and started to say, "Kurt, you're a civilian-" but David cut him off,

"Fine, you can ride with me. You drove here right?" Kurt nodded and described his car and where he parked. Wes shot his companion a withering look but didn't say anything more as they left the office. David glanced to Nick and another man and called, "Nick, Jeff, with us. Follow behind." Without asking questions the two men followed quickly, passed Thad. David stopped at Thad's desk and said,

"Can you please have someone take Mr. Hummel's car to his house?" Thad nodded and David steered Kurt out to the parking lot. Wes got into his own sleek looking car while Kurt slid into David's car and Nick and Jeff disappeared into a car farther away from the other men.

They drove in silence, David following Wes through the darkening streets with Nick and Jeff right behind. Finally Kurt broke the silence, "What did Blaine mean by-"

"Pilgrim's Peach Puff? It's all a part of our latest way of sending coded messages. We own a TV program that's shot here but displayed all around the world. Only we and the people we're sending messages to know about it being sent as codes. It's a cooking channel with the instructions and messages hidden as recipes," David replied simply. "Hopefully Blaine will have been smart enough to give us some extra time. The only good thing is that we're obviously dealing with either an idiot or a very overconfident man."

The rest of the ride was silent until they came to the outskirts of town to a converted barn. Kurt's eyes opened wide when he realized, "I've been here before! I was here before you guys took over; it used to be an apple barn that I used to visit with my mom before she died. The people who owned the place used to give tours." David grunted and drove silently to the area near the barn where there was still pavement and they could drive soundlessly.

Blaine's signature car was outside and as David and Kurt pulled up Wes was already out of his car with gun drawn and Kurt could see the figures of Nick and Jeff skirting around the edges of the building. Wes waited for them at the barn's partially opened door. David slunk to Wes's side with his gun drawn and Kurt suddenly felt horribly ill-equipped.

A few moments later Kurt heard grunts and soft flumps to his right as one of the men were subdued from Nick's side.

Voices could be heard through the door, "-me's almost up Mr. Cagebird. Now, since you're unable to help me I'll have to kill you."

"The information is already with my superiors and they know where we are and they'll be here any moment," Blaine replied evenly and there was a slight rustling. David glanced at Kurt with a raised eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"You're bluffing, there's no way they would know, I made sure your GPS device was disengaged before we left," Kurt couldn't help but feel like he was listening to an incredibly cheesy bad guy dialogue from a spy flic.

"Please, the F.B.I. has other ways of tracking its agents," Blaine replied loftily.

Wes pulled away from the door and leaned in close to David and Kurt, "They're at an angle from us, Blaine has his back to me but the guys inside can't see. There's at least five of them in there, big guys," Kurt leaned around Wes to take in the scene. It was basically the same as Wes had described, there was a stage set up to look like a country kitchen with television equipment facing the stage. There were seats on the other side for viewing. On the far side was a black metal box that had 'high voltage' written across it. "We need to figure out a way to get in there."

A thought struck Kurt and he whispered frantically to David, "I need you to give me as much time as you're able to and then create a distraction out here to draw his goons out of the barn. I know there's a cellar door that leads down below the barn. If I can get in there and find the trap door back into the barn I can kill the power supply and then you guys can whirl in and save the day or whatever it is you do."

"Kurt, we can't allow you to go in alone," David hissed.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "We're going to need the guys with the guns out here to go after the big guys with guns in there."

Wes sighed, "He has a point, but find Nick or Jeff and have one of them go with you," Kurt saluted him and slid off into the shadows. He felt a rush of adrenalin run through him as he slipped off down a shadowed side of the barn. Heading towards him on the other side was the willowy figure of someone coming towards him.

"Wes?" Jeff asked,

"No, Kurt, but I need you to follow me," Kurt instructed, walking passed Jeff purposefully.

"Why?" Jeff asked, dumbstruck.

"Because; I'm apparently not allowed to break into the back of this building alone, c'mon." Jeff followed dutifully and Kurt mentally patted himself on the back for being able to pull off commanding so easily.

Kurt drew on old memories of the multiple tours he took to the barn to find the old cellar door which was now covered over in crates. Jeff moved forward help carefully push over the crates and pull open the doors for Kurt. It squeaked precariously and Kurt wondered how long it had been since anyone had opened the cellar. They slipped down the rotting stairs and Jeff pulled out his cell phone which had a light attached.

"The trap door is at the end of the cellar." Kurt whispered. Above them they could hear Karofsky alternating between talking to his goons and interrogating Blaine, who was doing a good job of holding his own.

"How do you know?" Jeff hissed in disbelief.

"I have a mind like an elephant. Now, are you going to help me or keep taking up precious time?" Kurt growled back and thankfully Jeff shut up after that. After a few excruciating minutes they found the stairs leading up to the trap door and climbed to the top. Kurt leaned close to whisper into Jeff's ear, "Do you have a way of silently contacting Wes to tell him to create a diversion?"

Jeff wordlessly sent a text to Wes and almost instantaneously there were loud bangs coming from outside and the men upstairs grew deathly quiet. "Go see what that is, I can deal with Mr. Cagebird," Karofsky commanded and multiple pairs of feet clomped off and out of the barn.

Karofsky's feet traveled around in a circle near the doorway of the barn. Kurt forced himself to focus on keeping his breathing even and focus on carefully pushing the trap door open. He waited for a cue from Wes but nothing came, instead Karofsky moved to the door and called out into the night, "What are you fools doing out there?"

Kurt took that as his moment and threw the trap door open, and sprinted to the power box, tugging it open. Behind him Karofsky turned at the tremendous thump that came from the trap door and yelled at Kurt, but Kurt didn't stop. He began flipping switches and pushing buttons at random making the light system above them go crazy.

Jeff pulled himself out behind Kurt and charged at Karofsky to stop him from getting to Kurt, somewhere in there Blaine was calling for Kurt to press the black button at the bottom. Even in Kurt's frenzy he heard Blaine's instructions and a moment later everything went dark.

The next thing Kurt knew was multiple gun shots ringing out in the night and someone grabbing him from behind. He felt himself being dragged to the open doorway and fought hard, not sure who it was. When he was pulled out into the evening air he saw Karofsky pulling him bodily into the open, flailing around psychotically. Once his eyes focused on Kurt they glinted brilliantly and his hands shot out to take Kurt by the neck.

"Blaine!" He called, not knowing what else to do. He was not physically strong enough to push of the bully of a man. Kurt was a fashion designer for goodness sakes! He wasn't trained in the art of fighting off oafish brutes attempting to strangle him.

A moment later a swift blow was delivered to the back of Karofsky's head and he fell with a mighty thump back on Kurt causing him to exhale the little breath left in his lungs. Karofsky was rolled off of Kurt and a figure crouched beside him, "It's about time you helped out." Kurt hissed, extending his hand to Blaine and ignoring the prone figure of Karofsky next to him.

"I was a little tied up." Blaine said, gesturing to the ropes still wrapped around his shoulders. He helped Kurt to his feet and dusted him off, standing awfully close. Kurt flushed slightly and allowed himself to grin at Blaine lightly, tugging the ropes from around his neck. "Thank you for getting the message to Wes, how did you convince them to allow you to come with?"

Kurt shrugged and wrapped the rope around his arm in loops, "I told them I felt responsible for you getting caught."

"I wasn't in much danger with him. He's not much of a bad guy, more of a bully with goons," Blaine replied, fixing the lapel of Kurt's jacket. Jeff wandered out of the barn behind Blaine looking a little confused as to what had just gone down. Wes, David, and Nick were a settle a little farther away, placing a few of Karofsky's cronies into handcuffs.

David passed his man to Wes and went to tie up Karofsky. "Blaine, take Kurt home and then we'll meet you back at the agency," Blaine tipped his head to his superior in acknowledgement. "And Kurt, it was wonderful meeting you, that was some incredible fast thinking and footwork you did back there. I look forward to meeting you again," Kurt grinned brightly at David, suddenly feeling an inexplicable pride well up in his chest.

As they were getting ready to leave Jeff looked up at Kurt and called cheerfully, "Bye Kurt! See ya 'round!" Kurt returned the smile and wave and hurried to catch up to Blaine.

Blaine took Kurt by the arm and let him to the Porsche, opening the door for Kurt to slip into. Once Blaine had settled in the driver's seat he commented lightly, "You acted very professionally today, almost like a real agent," Blaine commented lightly.

"Really?" Kurt asked, eyes lighting up.

"Mm-hmm," Blaine replied switching into reverse and purring out of the driveway. The drive was quiet and Blaine was infuriatingly serene the entire way, finally Kurt couldn't stop himself anymore and asked why he wasn't freaking out. Blaine grinned at Kurt in a rather heart stopping way, "I've been through worse before honestly. Try being taken hostage during an undercover job with the Russian Mafia," Kurt's jaw dropped. "I have to say though, you're taking this amazingly well yourself."

"Shock, it has to be shock. I'm usually a bit of a drama queen and the usual me would be flipping out right now." Blaine laughed and set his hand on Kurt's knee, giving it a lingering squeeze. That immediately brought Kurt back to the way Blaine had been acting earlier. "Um, Blaine, I know this is probably incredibly inappropriate to ask under the current circumstances but are-are you gay?

Blaine's grin widened, "One hundred percent. You?" Kurt nodded slightly, feeling a tingle in his gut at the thought that such an interesting and attractive man would be so sure in his sexuality.

"And your coworkers don't mind?" Kurt could remember how some people had acted around him at the studio before he rose to the level of designer and they all worked for him.

"Wes runs a tight ship and his predecessor enforced a 'no tolerance for bullying' policy as we like to call it. Plus, we all honor one another and run as a well-oiled team."

"And this 'agency's' cover? As a music group?"

Blaine chuckled, pulling the Porsche into the driveway of Kurt's house, right next to Kurt's car which was in the driveway as promised. There were lights on in the house, meaning someone was home; that was about the time when Kurt started panicking. Blaine leaned back against the seat and watched Kurt carefully, "We found that we could sing when we were hanging out together getting drunk one night and decided 'hey, that's a great cover'. So we put out a few singles every so often under the name Dalton Warblers and no one is none the wiser."

He got out of the car suddenly and before Kurt could move had opened the door to him. He closed the door and instead of saying goodbye there he turned towards the door, "What are you doing?" Kurt asked carefully.

"Walking you to the door. C'mon," He took Kurt's arm and dragged him up the steps. Before Kurt could protest the door flew open and there Burt stood, towering over them, staring pointedly at Blaine's hand on Kurt's arm.

"Kurt! Where have you been? Your car was in the driveway and you weren't here and you weren't answering your phone-"

Blaine threw on a brilliant smile, "I'm sorry Mr. Hummel. My name is Blaine Anderson. Your son and I were out this evening on a date. It hadn't exactly been premeditated," He held out his hand assuredly and Burt left him waiting a while before taking his hand and giving it an authoritative squeeze.

Burt's glance slid to Kurt who attempted to look like he'd just finished a date with Blaine and was incredibly annoyed at his father for interrupting, which was hard to do. Kurt hadn't dated in high school and had barely done anything in New York, he'd been far too busy. "Dad, if you would, we'd like a few minutes alone," Kurt managed, feeling proud of how incredibly annoyed he sounded. With another grunt Burt closed the door and stepped away from the window.

Blaine laughed, "You know. I've faced Russian Mafia and Italian Mobsters with guns and knives, but none of them have intimidated me quite as much as he just did," The smile he gave Kurt made his stomach do strange flip-flops and he forced himself to smile.

"So is this where we say goodbye, you thank me for my contributions to the world or whatever, and then you disappear into your sexy car and out of my life forever?" Kurt asked, mentally hitting himself seconds after the words were out of his mouth.

Blaine chuckled, "Or-"

Kurt immediately brightened, "Or? There's an or?

Blaine touched his hand to Kurt's shoulder, "Or we say goodnight, I get in my sexy car and go back to the agency and sort a few things out and then I call you later?"

Kurt nodded quickly, "I like that idea. A lot actually."

"Good. I'm glad." He glanced at the pocket watch he'd just drawn from the inside of his jacket, "And I'm sure Wes will kill me if I don't get back soon…" He trailed off, tucking the pocket watch back. With another grin he leaned up and pressed a soft and lingering kiss at the corner of Kurt's lips again. "Goodnight Kurt. Despite the crazy man and the guns I think tonight was actually incredibly successful," Kurt laughed breathlessly as Blaine trotted off the porch and waited until the Porsche disappeared into the night to go inside.

His entire family was waiting for him in the foyer when he closed the door. Finn and his father were staring murderously at the door and Carole had a soft smile on her lips as she said, "He was just as pretty as his car."

Kurt didn't hear from Blaine again for another week. After the first three days passed Kurt started to worry that Blaine wasn't going to call him, then two days later Kurt began to get annoyed at Blaine, finally he got to the point where he was determined to either do something or forget about it. When he'd just about made up his mind, the phone rang.

"Hummel residence." He answered primly.

"Kurt, I presume?" Blaine's voice purred in his ear.

Kurt immediately bristled at the light and suave tone to Blaine's voice, "I thought you weren't going to call me."

Blaine had the good presence of mind to sound ashamed, "I didn't mean to take so long. Filing reports with the American Government and playing the national cover story game does tend to take time. As an apology I'd like to take you to get dinner."

"Fine. Because I have something to talk to you about." Kurt replied, determined to get what he wanted.

Blaine's laugh warmed a spot in Kurt's gut, "I'll be there in about a half an hour. Dress nice." Then he hung up. Kurt huffed at his phone and threw it onto the bed, falling back against the cushions. He huffed once more then realized that Blaine had instructed him to 'dress nice'. How nice? Kurt had a ton of nice clothes. He wrenched himself away from the softness of the comforter and began digging through the contents of the bag he still hadn't been able to bring himself to unpack.

Blaine was annoyingly prompt and pulled up into Kurt's driveway half an hour later. Kurt was waiting in an outfit that he thought would work for every occasion. Blaine got out to open the door for him, "You look wonderful." Blaine exclaimed, he was dressed in casual chic and Kurt felt victorious that he'd dressed well enough to match him.

"Knowing how to dress for every occasion is an ability every fashion designer needs to survive." Kurt replied loftily, settling in his seat.

Blaine gave Kurt a look of surprise but didn't say much else until they reached Breadstixx. It was a very nice establishment that Blaine wrinkled his nose at. Kurt had to agree that it was like one of those restaurants that attempted to be classy but ended up being bogged down by small town reality. Once they were seated in a private corner booth, (by Blaine's request) Blaine leveled Kurt with a gaze, "So, fashion designer. In New York?"

"Yes. I had a bit of a rough time there for a while and had to take a much needed break. For the moment the girls are going to run the office area and field calls and take messages. I'm planning on staying here for some time and work on my designs and basically telecommute," Kurt said slightly, trying to play it off as indifference. This was something he didn't want to go into right now, "Which brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about, may I?" Kurt asked and Blaine gave him a sighing laugh.

"Can it wait until we've actually ordered dinner?" Kurt leveled Blaine with a determined glare, "Alright, fine. Proceed," Blaine sat back with an amused grin on his face and waved for Kurt to proceed.

Ever the business man Kurt straightened his back and tilted his chin up, "I want to work for Dalton agency. With you."

Blaine coughed and stared at Kurt for a few moments, "What?"

"I want to work there. Look, you saw how well I handled that thing with Karofsky, and I didn't even go into shock. You have to admit that has to mean something."

Blaine laughed awkwardly, "It means that you're crazy. Kurt, you can't possibly mean this. You're a fashion designer. Not a trained operative. I've been doing this stuff for years."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I know I won't be expected to do anything big, but I just thought that I could help."

Blaine seemed speechless at the idea that Kurt was actually serious about this. "You want to be an agent."

One lithe shoulder lifted and Kurt smiled at Blaine, "Well, who wouldn't? I happen to find secret agents sexy," A moment later Kurt could have sworn he saw a blush color Blaine's cheeks before Blaine murmured back,

"I happen to find fashion designers sexy," Their waitress came at that moment and restrained their conversation for the time being. Their conversation after that was awkward and meant as a way for them to avoid the obvious. They were both standing on the edge of something that they didn't know how to control. Both men knew there was attraction there but they didn't know how to proceed.

When dessert came around they'd managed to talk about many subjects and learn basically nothing about one another. In the end they had a wonderful evening that was overshadowed by so many unsaid things. Kurt decided to wait until Blaine had driven him back to his home that evening to bring up the subject once more.

"I want to work with you Blaine," Kurt said stubbornly turning to Blaine who resolutely stared back, "I think I could be good to help. We obviously work well together and you can't deny that we have chemistry."

Blaine sighed tiredly, "And that chemistry is precisely what could get us into some serious trouble," He stared at Kurt's hand, which was lying near his, and after a moment picked it up to run his fingers down the blue veins found there. "I will talk to Wes, I promise. All right?" Kurt, feeling vindicated, smiled and allowed Blaine to walk him to his door. This time Burt wasn't looming on the other side and Blaine turned to Kurt and took his hands.

"So you promise you will talk to Wes?" Kurt asked.

Blaine inclined his head just a little, "Yes, I promise I will talk to him but I cannot promise whether anything will come of it," Kurt beamed at Blaine and they stood like that until a chill ran up Kurt's back, "Go inside. Goodnight Kurt." Before Kurt could think about the ramifications he leaned forward to press his lips to the exact same place that Blaine had kissed him earlier. It was quick and chaste and thoroughly teasing.

"Two can play that game Mr. Cagebird. Goodnight." He closed the door quickly behind him and fell against the wood paneling, his heart hammering. In the distance he swore he could hear Blaine's deep rolling chuckle behind him.

Kurt had prepared himself to wait for Blaine to call him again and was surprised when two days later an unknown call came through his cell phone, "Hello?" He asked.

"You know that chemistry that you claim we have?" Blaine announced without preamble, "Well, apparently Wes and David noticed that too and have decided to allow you to work with us on this next case on a purely freelance basis. You apparently fit the look for undercover work that we need."

Kurt's eyes grew wide and he leaned close to the receiver, "What is it? Do we get to fly anywhere exotic? Or are we going to be stealing international intel? Or saving some damsel in distress?"

Blaine laughed tiredly, "Nothing like that. No, this case involves going deep undercover." He took a breath and continued, "We are going undercover as students at a private all boys' boarding school for genius wonders. Apparently some boys are smuggling information and it will be our job to target and detain those boys. Pack your bags Mr. Hummel, and welcome to the Dalton Warblers."