Welcome to the Agent Development Program. Since 1987 and under strict secrecy, the CIA has been recruiting juvenile agents the nation over. As soon as we received word that a potential candidate had been spotted, we approached them with undercover agents and brought them into our facilities under the guise of summer camps. And their parents had no idea of their real activities. There they were trained to the highest standards in all forms of combat defense, navigational techniques, and of course, explosives diffusion. Our fully-trained juvenile agents are stationed all over the nation. They meticulously maintain the façades of normal childhoods as they await their call for duty...
Hudson-Hummel Residence, 415 Whitman Avenue, Lima, OH 05:59:19
Kurt woke up a minute before his alarm clock as usual. It wasn't his fault, it was his training. Sadly, not the training one would expect either. The nuisance on the other side of the wall had trained him this way, because whenever his alarm clock went off at what Finn called "an absolutely ridiculous hour," Finn would be cranky for the rest of the day. Thus, an alarm-less awakening.
Kurt turned off his alarm clock before it could annoy his brother and headed for the shower, making sure to moisturize thoroughly in preparation for the day. Not that it was any special day, but he really didn't want wrinkles at thirty.
After he was showered and dressed, he headed downstairs, his future step-mother sitting at the kitchen table with a mildly-lucid smile and a cup of coffee. "Good morning, sweetie," she said, her usual greeting.
"Good morning," Kurt said in reply. He made coffee for himself (the first of his three or four cups), and started in on breakfast for himself, her, and his father, who would be down shortly, tired and grumpy. Finn could make his own breakfast, for all Kurt cared. "Are you working the early shift today?" The fact that she was awake at this hour wasn't indicative of anything.
"Yep. I get to be at the hospital bright and early," Carole said with a smile. She worked as a nurse, and his commanding officer would categorize her as a 'valuable resource.'
"Too damn early," his father mumbled as he entered the kitchen. Kurt placed a cup of coffee in front of him, used to this routine. "Morning, kiddo."
"Good morning, dad." His father didn't believe in the concept of the greeting, saying that no morning was a good morning when he had to be awake early enough for people to be saying that without checking the clock.
"Is Finn awake yet?" Carole asked, and Kurt replied with a simple shake of his head. He had spent almost an hour in the bathroom without disturbing his soon-to-be step-brother. "He's going to be late for school," Carole said with a huff, standing to go wake her son up with a look of motherly irritation on her face.
"How's your day look, kiddo?" his dad asked as she left the room. His father tried his hardest to be involved in Kurt's life, but there were so many aspects of it that he wasn't allowed to know about, for one reason or another, that there was a definite separation between the two of them. It almost made Kurt miss elementary school.
"Average and boring as usual." William McKinley High School provided no challenges for Kurt except for the daily struggle to avoid all bullies and other imbeciles.
"Dude, you totally could have woken me up," Finn said crankily as he sat down. Kurt placed eggs in front of Carole (who had returned to her coffee), his father, and kept a plate for himself. "What, no eggs?"
"You snooze, you lose, and it's not my place to wake you up. It's not even your mother's, but she's too nice for her own good." Carole was one of the genuinely sweetest women he had ever met. He was glad his dad had found her. "Make a poptart or something." Kurt wrinkled his nose at the idea of the disgusting processed food.
"Bitch," Finn muttered under his breath, passing Kurt on the way to the junk food cabinet (Kurt's iron-fist over the contents of the kitchen had been subverted when Finn and Carole moved in. Finn liked processed garbage, and Carole liked making her son happy. It was a bad combination).
"We're leaving for school in fifteen minutes," Kurt announced, being the one with the car and thus being the person in charge of getting them there on time. "Be ready or stay home." Not that Finn didn't want to stay home, but Carole would force him to walk to school... and it was a long way.
William McKinley High School, 1 Titan Way, Lima, OH 7:44:32
Finn had showered and scoffed down his poptart before getting in the Navigator (there was absolutely no eating in Kurt's baby. Ever), so they made it to school on time with a fair bit of grumbling from Finn. Because Finn was so annoyed with Kurt's unwillingness to wake him up (which was totally reasonable, because Finn was a bear in the mornings and he didn't want to be hit in the face any more than considered absolutely necessary for his sexuality) and desire to be at school on time, he stalked out of the car with no regard for walking Kurt into the school. Not that Kurt really needed the help, but he didn't know that. He couldn't know that.
"Hey, faggot," was the usual greeting the jocks gave him before tossing him in the dumpster, and he sighed. He couldn't put these idiots in their place, like he wanted to, but he could surely avoid the dumpster on one occasion, right?
"Hey, plebeians," he responded as normal, turning around to face them. Azimio and Rashad. Two typical knuckle-draggers. Excellent. They took a moment to look at each other, trying to figure out if either of them know what that word meant, and then turned to look back at Kurt, but he was long gone.
He expected the morning to go smoothly for then on, but the jocks had gotten some new tricks, apparently, like the concept of following. So, when whichever idiot it was grabbed his arm, Kurt reacted automatically, driving his elbow into the solar plexus behind him and spinning, Azimio's hand still on upper arm, Azimio being thrown off-balance and crashing into Rashad. Letting a smug smirk cross his face, Kurt looked around to make sure no one had noticed, dusted off his hands, and continued walking.
William McKinley High School, 1 Titan Way, Lima, OH 12:37:48
"Go back to the girls' locker room," someone shouted at him after gym class, slamming him into the lockers with a shoulder. "That's where you belong."
"Yeah, none of us want your faggot ass, so go jump off a cliff," Azimio jeered. Clearly, he hadn't learned his lesson that morning.
Kurt could feel the blood rising in his face. After a long moment, he said "Fine," heading to leave. It didn't really matter what they thought. They certainly didn't know him, and that was about to be proven, judging by the woman standing at the door.
She was Latina, with her dark hair flowing over her shoulder. She was wearing an entirely red, extremely revealing, skin-tight suit with black heels and sunglasses. He was pretty sure he recognized that suit from 'summer camp' as something female agents wore to distract men. It was definitely working. Even Azimio had stopped talking, preferring to gape and letting out a wolf-whistle that earned him a look. Even through the sunglasses, everyone in the room could tell that look was a glare.
"Kurt Hummel?"
"Yes," Kurt replied. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time.
"What the hell is she doing here for him?" he heard Rashad murmur, but the woman's gaze snapped to the cruel jock who had been a monumental douchebag today. So much so, in fact, that Kurt didn't even feel bad about what was going to happen next.
"Quiet," she snapped, quieting the laughter following Rashad's comment immediately. "Or you'll all be in trouble." Bad choice of words. Really bad. "Come with me." That was directed towards Kurt, and he prepared to leave with her.
"Hey, pretty lady," Azimio said, sliding over to block the doorway. "I want to be in trouble." Did Azimio really think this was going to go over well?
"Hold this," she said, handing the black briefcase Kurt hadn't noticed until then to Karofsky. She reached over and took a football. "I really," she threw it perfectly, hitting Azimio between the eyes, "hate," she reached out and grabbed her briefcase from Karofsky, hitting his shoulder so hard he spun backwards and fell in the process, "guys who talk back," she finished, standing over Azimio and placing one stiletto heel over his throat. "Thank you," she said, picking her briefcase up from where Karofsky had dropped it, "for nothing." It was very pointed, just like everything else about her. "Let's go," she said to Kurt, and he didn't bother to argue, following. "Grab your things, you won't be coming back here."
"So where are we headed?" Kurt asked as they stopped by his locker. Physical education was technically a class, meaning it was the middle of the day, and there was no one in the hallway. "New York, California, Mexico, Europe?" he asked, excited by the prospect. He had been waiting to get out of Lima for so long, and it was finally happening. This wasn't exactly his ideal way, but it would work.
"Downtown Columbus," she replied, not seeming affected by Kurt's disappointment. "My name is Agent Lopez, you will never call me Santana, and we will never mention the incident during which I assaulted two minors within a hundred miles of headquarters, understand?"
If the headquarters was in Columbus... "We're already within a hundred miles of-"
"Exactly," Agent Lopez said coldly, shutting his locker with a slap of her hand once she had decided she had waited there long enough, and stalked off to the parking lot. Kurt had to hurry to catch her.
They took a SUV (Kurt had tried, but Agent Lopez insisted he leave his Navigator in the parking lot, promising agents would return it to his house) to Dayton, and then got on a helicopter to Columbus. Kurt was highly, if quickly, trained, and he knew what an odd route meant. They were trying to avoid being followed.
"Can you brief me even a little?" Kurt asked as they were hurried aboard the helicopter in downtown Dayton, closer to Kettering than the main city.
"I can brief you on exactly how you're going to react as the director of the Central Intelligence Agency briefs you on the most important mission you will ever be a part of, even if you continue to be a part of the agency as an adult," Agent Lopez answered, seeming doubtful of that possibility. "You will speak only when spoken to, you will follow orders completely and without question," she continued, raising her voice as the helicopter took off (they got earpieces and microphones once they were fully in the air), "you will address everyone as sir or madam, and under no circumstances will you say anything upsetting or touch any gadgets, understand?"
"Yes," Kurt said. She continued to stare him down for a minute until he added, "madam."
"Not exactly as quick a learner as you sounded on your reports," was all she said in reply. This wasn't going to be as much fun as he had hoped.
Kurt got a great view of Ohio as they traveled from Dayton to Columbus (not that Ohio looked any more impressive from the air, but still), and Columbus almost looked like a respectable city to a bird. Agent Lopez looked unimpressed by how enthralled Kurt was with the view, but he really didn't care. She had probably traveled to Washington D.C. by helicopter, he had never even seen one in real life before.
CIA Headquarters, Downtown Columbus, Columbus, OH 14:35:40
The Columbus HQ of the CIA looked formidable, covered with American flags and people racing around on Segways. The main building itself looked like elevated barracks surrounding a courtyard, which consisted mostly of a lake covered by a stone path. Agent Lopez led him halfway across the path before stopping, staring at the water expectantly. Kurt heard the familiar shriek of machinery, and a metallic step appeared before her in the water. "Hold your breath," was all she said before walking down the steps, not seeming concerned by the water that must be drenching her and her suit. Kurt followed quickly when he saw a door open in front of her. The water level hadn't moved an inch. It was very odd. Kurt stepped onto the first step, noticing his toes get a little wet, and then stepped onto the second, and froze. His feet weren't wet. It was dry underneath the water. Kurt would have stopped and asked someone about this, but Agent Lopez was standing at the bottom of the staircase, in the doorframe, and staring up at him, unimpressed.
Kurt quickly walked down the stairs, still kind of in awe. There was water above him, and around him on all sides, even under the staircase, but he was perfectly dry. He walked through the door and decided this must be mission control. It was entirely dark metal and glass, barely lit by fluorescent lights. There was a desk to Kurt's left, and a wall full of metals to Kurt's right, but he was more interested in the doors that opened straight ahead. The fifteen feet between the underwater door and this automatically sliding door was covered by a CIA logo, intimidating and shined. The room directly inside those doors was amazing. Six chairs on each side of a raised panel, twelve computer screens on the panel adjacent to each seat. There were fluorescent lights between the seats, and a map of the world rested on the wall behind the two chairs that looked upon the panel and other chairs, obviously for commanders or the like. They had florescent lights resting directly above their heads.
Agent Lopez walked straight through the doors and took a sharp left. Kurt paused to take a look at the wall to his right, which consisted of a lot of stars on the wall (way more than fifty) and some sort of book on a light display, between two American flags.
"Hey," a hand grabbed at Kurt's shoulder, and he spun, grabbing the hand and pressing the pressure point at the thumb automatically, forcing the man who had grabbed him (a security guard) to his knees with little effort on Kurt's part.
"Very impressive," a voice behind the security guard said, and Kurt looked up from his captive to see a man in a suit standing there. He had dark blonde, curly hair that he had slicked to his head, green eyes, and a welcoming smile. Kurt looked him quickly up and down, determining that he was about six feet, and seemed pretty in shape. "Though I would prefer it if you didn't incapacitate my security guards." Kurt let the idiot go.
"Hello." Agent Lopez stared him down again. "Sir."
"Sir, this trespasser-"
"Is a loyal and very important juvenile agent," the man finished the guard's sentence. "Yes, very good catch," he continued, oblivious to the look of shock on the man's face. "I'm Director Schuester. Come along. Welcome to the CIA, Agent Kurt Hummel."
Kurt had lied. The room he had seen couldn't be mission control, because this was so much cooler. They turned left inside the sliding door, and walked down a wide set of stairs to the epicenter of the building. There was another map of the world on the wall, but it was red and navy and computerized. A bunch of men were gathered around a circular table, tapping at computers and discussing in low tones. There were staircases leading up in the opposite direction, and doors to the far side. It was an amazing place to be.
Kurt, Agent Lopez, and Director Schuester took the empty seats at the circular table, the men around it either clearing seats of exiting the table. "Agent Hummel, we've prepared you a brief presentation on the advanced concept of neutrinos," a short, brunette lady in a suit top and skirt said in a very condescending voice, passing a stack of papers towards him.
"Agent Rachel Berry," Agent Lopez whispered to him helpfully.
"Neutrinos? I know what those are. They're elementary, neutrally charged, weak interacting subatomic particles. Their mass presumed to be beyond microscopic, small even by the standard of subatomic particles. They're not effected by electromagnetic forces, only affected by weak subatomic forces and gravity, though gravity doesn't have as pronounced an effect on them as it does other particles. They can pass through matter and travel through air in large distances. Scientists still doubt their existence at all," Kurt rattled off, glad that he still remembered everything from summer camp. Director Schuester looked impressed.
"Neutrinos are real, Agent Hummel," Agent Berry said in a grave tone. "Very real."
"And so are their opposite. The antineutrino." Director Schuester hit a button on the computer screen in front of him, and a computerized model of what Kurt presumed was an antineutrino replaced the map of the world. "This is a lepton particle emitted during beta particle emissions. They're essentially the same as neutrinos, but these tiny particles have great potential. Dangerous potential. Not only can antineutrinos be used for reactor monitoring in nuclear weapons, which is a whole other issue being solved by the FBI working closely with M16 and several federal governments who requested we, 'the assassin force,' not be involved," Director Schuester's nose wrinkled, "they are also powerful tools in communication. They can potentially be used to probe light and radio waves due to their weak interaction with other particles. They are able to travel along the paths of any signal without detection, and a mass of neutrinos could provide interference. Communications are at stake, and this mission is based in our homeland." Director Schuester didn't say anything else.
"Sir, if the issue isn't global, why is it under your... our jurisdiction?" Kurt asked, ignoring his little slip-up and the glare he was getting from Agent Lopez for not following her orders.
"Good question, Agent Hummel," the director said proudly. "The control of antineutrinos in communications, also known as Operation Atlas Shrugged, was given to the CIA because of this man." Director Schuester hit another button, and a man showed up on the screen. Kurt would guess him to be in his mid-40s, slight but not weak. Wiry would be his best guess. Glasses covered his bright blue eyes, and his coal black hair was arranged wildly. "Doctor Michael Anderson, leading expert in the field of neutrinos... but he is not your assignment either."
"Then what is?" Kurt finally asked, and Agent Lopez cleared her throat with a disapproving look.
"Doctor Michael Anderson has two sons, two gateways to his research. One, Cooper Anderson," a movie star Kurt vaguely recognized showed up on the screen, a red-carpet picture that didn't fit in with the image the CIA HQ gave him, "lives in Los Angeles and is under close supervision as a punishment job to three agents." Kurt tried and failed not to laugh. Director Schuester gave him a disapproving look. Agent Lopez face-palmed. "Your target is Blaine Anderson." Kurt looked expectantly at the screen, but it was blank. "Unfortunately, there are no current pictures of him available, as he is kept extremely safe by his school."
"So, what's my job?" What was he supposed to be doing with Doctor Anderson's son?
"Blaine Anderson, sixteen, hair black, eyes hazel, loves music, especially 70s and 80s, popular, and Broadway music, books, preferably Jonathan Keates, and coffee, a medium drip, to be exact. Learn everything you possibly can about this boy, get close to him. You're perfect for this assignment. You two are of similar ages, have similar interests, and share one very important bonding trait, I presume." Kurt stared at the director expectantly. "It took us a long time to learn this, because his family works hard to cover it up, but Blaine Anderson is gay, and you are our bait."
"Your requirements," Agent Berry added, "are to attend Dalton Academy, join their Glee club, the Warblers, and befriend Doctor Anderson's son. Your assignment is to use your friendship with this boy to find out what his father is planning with Stheno."
"Exactly. Stheno is a corporation we've had our eye on for a while, and now that it's becoming involved in the affairs of Doctor Anderson, we have a reason to nab them."
"You will be sent to Dalton Academy, you've been placed in all of his classes-"
"Isn't that a little creepy?" Then a thought occurred to him. "Wait, you want me to date this guy?"
"Kurt," why was she the only one who didn't call him Agent Hummel? he wondered as she slid her chair closer to his, "under no circumstances are you to date your target. Doctor Anderson is an extremely homophobic man, and he will never allow you anywhere near his project if he thinks you're interested in his son. Do anything else, but do not date Blaine Anderson. The first step is to get yourself invited to the Anderson family Halloween party. Simple enough?" she asked sarcastically, sliding her chair away again.
"Be careful. Stheno Corporations hires dangerous people. They will not hesitate to kill you." Kurt swallowed heavily. Yikes. "Can you handle this assignment?"
"You can count on me," Kurt said decisively, and the board of directors (he assumed that's who they were) left. Agent Rachel Berry came over with a smile.
"Would you like me to brief you on Stheno, so you know what you're going up again?" she asked softly, not as intimidating without the directors around. Kurt nodded. "Stheno Corporation is named after one of Medusa's sisters, who was named after the Greek word for 'forceful,' and the name is appropriate. Stheno, the monster, was known for being independent, vicious, and immortal, with brass hands and sharp fangs. Stheno Corporation is all of these things. It's spent the last fifteen years eating smaller companies for breakfast, expanding into the metal-making industries and communications. Vertical integration is not lost on the company. It controls the process from the ground to the iPhone about to fall out of your pocket," Kurt grabbed it just before it fell, "and it's very dangerous."
"The leader of Stheno," Agent Lopez added, obviously tired of this part, "is named Sue Sylvester." The woman she put up on screen was almost as terrifying as the mythological Gorgons. Short cropped blond hair, blue eyes, and a fierce expression. "Six feet tall, one hundred and sixty-one pounds, fifty-two years old. She doesn't seem like a force to be reckoned with, but you do not want to meet this woman if you can avoid it."
"Since she's not a physical force to be reckoned with," Agent Berry added, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted, "there's Dustin Goolsby." When Agent Berry put his picture up on the screen, he didn't look like much of a physical force to be reckoned with either. Dark brown hair cut short, blue eyes, and a generally unhappy looking face. "Six four, two hundred and thirty pounds, tenth degree black belt in various forms of martial arts... you will not beat this man. Don't attempt it," Agent Berry said, her voice a mixture of firmness and concern.
"Anything else I should know?" Kurt asked, a pinch sarcastically.
"We will take care of your parents' concern about your sudden desire to switch schools. Dalton Academy, located in Westerville, is about two hours away from your home, so you will be boarding there. You may not see them for months, even years."
"Wait, Westerville?" he asked. "That's-"
"Less than half an hour away from here? Yes," Agent Lopez added. "We'll be keeping a close eye on you, Agent Kurt." Still not 'Agent Hummel' but close enough. "Come along." Agent Lopez led him up the stairs on the opposite side from where they had come in, through a series of panel-sliding doors that led into a laboratory better than anything Kurt had ever seen in one of the ridiculous science fiction movies Finn secretly loved. There were computers everywhere, monitoring the testing of various pieces of equipment. There was some sort of flying device that seemed similar to a helicopter, but was open and designed for one person, standing up. There was a jet-propelled snowboard, and a ton of other gadgets. Some of them looked painful. "Don't touch anything. And shut your mouth, you look enough like a Japanese blow-up sex doll already," Agent Lopez said as she led him over to a desk. The man standing on the other side was exactly the way Kurt pictured an eccentric government scientist.
"Mister Hummel," the man said, standing next to a scrawny assistant who was dressed like a Mormon, with the addition of a pocket protector. "Did you like my little stair trick?" Kurt nodded eagerly, because the stairs they had walked down into the nerve center of the headquarters were awesome. "Classic comic book, underwater lair stuff. Relatively new technology, but definitely fascinating. We still have to work a little bit on that line of water, but that's beside the point. Agents, and the gadgets they carry, can't get wet. Speaking of gadgets..."
"What do you have for me?" Kurt asked, ignoring another glare from Agent Lopez.
"Give me your iPhone." Kurt handed it over immediately and let out an embarrassing squeak when the man dropped it and stepped on it. "You won't need that. This is your new cell phone, a state of the art mobile command center, with holograms, GPS, and all sorts of functions you'll need on a traditional mission." How, exactly, did they define a traditional mission? "Here's a pair of X-ray sunglasses. Always handy, but beware... they have parental control on them, and she's in charge of it. No checking out anything you shouldn't be seeing." The man winked at him. "Here's a CIA shock watch. Anyone, even you, that presses the silver button will get quite a shock. Don't push it, even if you think it'll be fun, because it won't." The scientist handed it over. "Here's five thousand dollars in cash, and the agents who grabbed your car tricked it out, government style. Good luck, kid." The man turned around abruptly, and Agent Lopez began to walk away.
"That's it?" he asked the agent as she pulled him away. "That's all the help I'm getting."
"Of course not," she said coldly. "You get me. I'm your handler, this is my case too. You won't screw it up, or I'll kick your ass, Alphabet City style." Kurt didn't quite understand the threat, but he wasn't stupid enough to say anything.
Hudson-Hummel Residence, 415 Whitman Avenue, Lima, OH 17:29:36
"You want to transfer where?" his dad asked him again. It must have been the sixth time his dad had asked him that question, and Kurt had the same answer every time.
"Dalton Academy."
"Sweetie, you know how much we love you, but schools like that are expensive," Carole said gently. "More expensive than we can handle right now."
"Dalton's giving me a full scholarship for Glee club," Kurt tried again, knowing this was the lie the CIA wanted him to go with. He felt bad lying to his father, but it was for the sake of the country!
"Why do you want to go to Dalton Academy?" his dad asked, and Kurt had known he would be the more suspicious of the two. Carole looked thrilled.
"Dad..." Kurt said with a not-entirely-fake sigh, sitting next to his father on the couch, "you know how hard things are for me at McKinley... and I'll admit to having kept some of it from you." His dad looked furious, but that wasn't the point. "Dalton Academy has a zero-tolerance bullying policy." His dad went from so mad that he was turning red to sympathetic in a heart beat.
"Kurt, we don't know how official-" The door bell cut his father off.
"I'll get it," Kurt said, hoping it was someone coming to help him. When he opened up the door it was Agent Lopez, and she pushed right to him into the house, still wearing that red suit.
"Mr. Hummel?" she asked, holding out a hand for him to shake. "My name is Santana Lopez, and I'm the Dean of Admissions at Dalton Academy for Talented Boys."
"Wait a second," his dad said, shaking Agent Lopez's hand and then turning to Kurt. "This is an all boys school?" he asked, and Kurt tried his best not to look sheepish. This wasn't going to go over well.
"Just because it's all boys, it doesn't mean... that's not why I want to go there, dad." His father still looked unimpressed.
"And that's not why we want him at our school," Agent Lopez said with a smile. "Kurt is an extraordinary student, who shines inside the classroom and out. Our show choir, the Dalton Academy Warblers, is well known and extremely successful, and we only recruit the most talented students in the country. Kurt is at the top of our list, considering countertenors are so rare."
"What the..." his dad paused, looking at Agent Lopez, "heck," he censored himself, "is a countertenor?"
"A countertenor is a unique vocal range-" Agent Lopez began, but since she couldn't throttle him in front of his parents, Kurt cut her off.
"A guy that sings like a girl, dad," he simplified, and his father nodded, adjusting his baseball cap like he did when he was nervous.
"This," Agent Lopez continued, "is Dalton Academy." She shot Kurt a glare while his parents were busy looking at the paperwork. Kurt took a peek himself, knowing almost nothing about the school he was supposed to attend... and gaped. It was gorgeous, a stone castle reminiscent of Harry Potter. There were a ton of buildings on a wide open, forest-filled campus. Kurt spotted sports fields, a lake, dormitories... the school was incredible.
"Wow," his dad said, readjusting his baseball cap. "This looks like an amazing school."
"And we would like Kurt to join our community as soon as possible," Agent Lopez said with a winning smile. It was the first time Kurt had ever seen her smile.
"Yeah, your community is what I'm worried about," his dad said with a look at Kurt. Kurt couldn't read the expression in his father's eyes.
"Since the school is a boarding school, we do our best to monitor the kids. There are rules, extensive ones, ensuring the safety and... shall we say 'chastity,' of our students. We have never had an issue involving relationships among students." Agent Lopez was pulling this all right out of her butt, Kurt could tell.
"It's a boarding school?" Carole asked, sounding disappointed.
"It is two hours away," Kurt added.
"Students are matched up with their roommate through an extensive system, and we take any concerns regarding roommates very seriously. As I said, the boys are well monitored, and although the campus is mostly open, there are regulations to ensure they're not having too much fun." She threw a look at Kurt that clearly said 'you won't be having any fun at all, unless it's with Doctor Anderson's son.' "Students are more than welcome to leave on weekends, though that can become difficult with the academic challenges presented by our school's award-winning curriculum." She really sounded like an administrator.
"We'll discuss as a family, but thank you, Mrs. Lopez."
"Miss Lopez," she corrected, shaking his father's hand again. "It was an honor to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel," Kurt probably should have told her about that, "and we look forward to having your son at Dalton Academy."
His dad waited until she had left. "You really want to go to this school?"
"Yes, Dad."
"Promise me if you get a boyfriend, I get to meet him that weekend?"
"Dad," Kurt complained.
"Promise me-"
"Yes, yes, I promise."
"And if you're having any trouble with your roommate-"
"I'll report it."
"If you have too much trouble with the schoolwork-"
"I'll get a tutor," Kurt finished his dad's sentence. "Dad, I'll be fine."
"Call her back," his dad said with a sigh as Kurt mentally cheered. "You're going to Dalton Academy tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow is Saturday, Dad," Kurt said with a smile, giving his dad a hug before racing upstairs to call Agent Lopez and confirm that her plan had worked.
A/N: Welcome to my new story. This story fills a prompt given to me months ago by , and I'm very excited to be fulfilling it. It's completely written, so it will be posted every week (on Friday. I meant to post this one yesterday, but time got away from me. That tends to happen). So, I hope you guys enjoy! I promise after this chapter it won't be so parallel to the movie Agent Cody Banks (which is what it's based on, if you can't tell).
Reviews are Love.