I have no idea what this is. It just came to me. I'm not really happy with it, but its 2am and I have to work tomorrow, so I hope you like it anyway.

And if you're reading my WIP Darklings and Glee Clubs, I'm really, really, really, super sorry I haven't updated in forever, I know, I'm just suffering the worst case of writer's block with that one. It's killing me, but I am working on it! I'm so sorry! Please don't kill me. In the mean time, please enjoy this.

Now, this story really doesn't make any sense, its pure crack, with (I hope) little bits of fluff. I suck terribly at fluff, so it might just suck. Either way, tell me what you think!

I don't own Glee and most likely never will. Sigh.

.o0O.O0o.

The Dalton Siege

Kurt Hummel was immersed in ancient history. Papers piled high all over the desk in front of him and Blaine, so much so the rest of the Dalton study room was hidden from view. Kurt looked over at his studying friend and smiled. It'd been months since they'd broken up, but they'd managed to keep the closeness they'd had before their ill fated relationship. And despite the way things had gone, Kurt was very glad. Blaine was his best friend, right after Mercedes, and it was better this way. Plus, it hadn't taken either of them long to move on. Blaine was in a loving relationship with Bret, a musician just starting out who sang occasionally at the Lima Bean. Kurt had to admit, Bret was pretty perfect for Blaine. And of course, Kurt had… wait no, he wasn't thinking about that any more. That was dangerous thought territory.

Of course, it would be easier to not think about the reason he was currently hiding at Dalton, even though he hadn't attended the school in almost a year, if the reason didn't keep showing up with his jock lackeys.

"Blaine!" Jeff yelled, skidding into the study hall and sending papers flying. "Blaine! They're back again!"

"Close the gates! Battle stations everyone!" Blaine leapt up from his seat, sprinting out the door as the Dalton boys scattered. Kurt didn't move for a minute. He just sat there, watching papers flutter slowly to the floor, a gentle burning rage building in his chest. With a frustrated sigh, he wandered after Blaine, ignoring the solid steel bars that thundered into place over the windows as he walked down the corridor. He came to an impressive marble balcony that looked out over the front lawn of the school, stopping at the doorway, so as to stay out of sight. From here, he could see the gates clearly as well as the large group of boys in red jackets that lurked there, a familiar muscular frame standing proudly before them. Blaine lent casually against the balcony rail, flanked by Wes and David, staring arrogantly down at the intruding army.

"Get lost, Karofsky! We're not letting you in!"

"Where is he, Anderson?" Came the answering yell. Kurt twitched. Although it'd been awhile since he'd heard that voice, it still sent shivers down his spine.

"You're not getting anywhere near him, so just give up and go home!"

"Not going to happen!"

"Then get ready for a long wait! We're completely stocked and self sufficient in here! We can hold out indefinitely! Can you?" Kurt could hear the smirk in Blaine's tone, even if he couldn't see it.

"Heads up!" Wes shouted, tackling Blaine and David. The water balloon sailed over their heads, bursting on the marble wall next to Kurt, the countertenor having dove to dry safety.

"Eww, that smells like…" David muttered.

"Ugh! That's disgusting!" Wes scrambled away from the wall.

"They'll pay for that. Open fire, Warblers!" Blaine yelled. Suddenly, the air was filled with speeding paint balls as the Warblers on the roof pelted the front gate and McKinley jocks with their air rifles. The sports players quickly retreated to a safe distance, aiming pee balloons over their shoulders as they ran, Karofsky's yells of "Bring it on, Anderson! We can last as long as you can!" drifting back to the private school boys.

Cautiously, the four singers crawled to the railing and poked their heads above the edge.

Out of range of the paint guns, the McKinley boys were setting up a rough camp. I suppose it was lucky for them that Dalton was sitting in the middle of a forest, the only way out the road that the jocks were currently occupying.

"Is that – ? Do they have a catapult?" David asked.

"A small one. No better then our roof based one." Wes answered.

"Does nothing about this situation strike anyone as strange?" Kurt said. The three Dalton boys stared at him.

"No." they said in unison.

"I thought not." Kurt shook his head. "Maybe I should just go down there. This could get bad, and I'm already causing an inter-school feud. I don't want this to escalate anymore."

"Kurt, don't be ridiculous. You'll stay here as long as you need to. We won't sell you out, and who cares about an inter-school feud. I think this is the most fun we've had since we ran the teachers out of here and set up our own internet based courses." Blaine clapped his friend on the back. "You're safe here as long as you need us."

Grinning, Kurt embraced his friends. "I love you guys."

"Look out! He's getting emotional!" Wes screamed, flailing.

"Run for it!" David wriggled out of Kurt's grasp, grabbed Wes and scampered away as fast as they could.

Laughing at their antics, Blaine put his arm around his friend and they wandered off. Plans needed to be made if they were in for a siege.

.oO0.0Oo.

It'd been ten long days, twelve paint-ball battles, six water balloon fights, eighteen shouting matches, twenty-seven facebook spamming, hacking and slandering incidents and one extremely dirty game of capture the flag, but finally they had reached an understanding. The jocks understood that Kurt was not coming down, and the Dalton boys understood that Karofsky and his boys could be just as stubborn as they were. This was not an understanding that helped anyone. Clearly, more drastic measures had to be taken.

Blaine and the rest of the Warblers had been watching Kurt closely over the last week and a half, noticing his more and more miserable looks and haggard appearance. Dark bags under his eyes, wrinkles in his clothes, mismatched colours, longer and longer times spent staring into space. Kurt would never have let himself look so run down if the situation wasn't getting to him. Sighing deeply, Blaine sat down heavily next to the countertenor, shocking Kurt out of his day dream.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"They're not that interesting." Kurt sighed.

"You're not looking so good, buddy."

"I'm fine. Just frustrated." Glaring at the ground, he pouted. "Why the hell won't he just give up?"

"Well, I'm no expert, but maybe because –"

"Don't say it!" He snapped.

Blaine smirked. "You know we've got your back, and we can keep this up for months. We've still got some tricks up our sleaves. Jeff and Trent have been working on some pretty awesome pranks we can use at any time, but, are you absolutely sure that's what you want?"

"Of course I'm sure. What else would I want? There's no way in hell I'm giving up now! There is nothing else I want more then to send those little boys crying home to their mommies."

"Well, okay then. If you're positive."

"I am." The fashionista crossed his arms and stared stubbornly out the window.

Shaking his head, the prep boy wandered back towards the common room, almost walking straight into Jeff, running the other way.

"Blaine! There you are! Come quick!"

"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, hurrying after the blond boy.

"You won't believe this. Hurry up!"

They reached the balcony and looked down at the front gate. The camp was abandoned, not a single letterman jacket to be seen. And there, sitting right at the front gate, was a large wooden horse.

For about five minutes, Blaine could only stare.

"Are they kidding with this. Really?"

"That's what we said. What do you want us to do with it? Roll it down the hill?" Jeff asked.

"No, someone might get hurt." Blaine carefully considered the extremely obvious attempt at infiltrating his school. His mind flashing back to how miserable Kurt had been since he'd arrived, let alone since the siege had begun, a calculating smirk crossed his handsome features. "Bring it inside. And get your rifles ready boys, it's going to be a hell of a fight."

.o0O.O0o.

David Karofsky ran down the classy hallway of Dalton academy, air-rifle in hand. He'd just managed to make it through the epic battle on the front lawn of the fancy pants school. Somehow, breaking though the fight had been surprisingly easy. It had seemed too good to be true when the stuck-up prep school boys, who had admittedly been worthy opponents in this on going battle, had started to roll the hollow horse into the school yard. And, sure enough, it had been. As soon as the jocks had popped open the various hatches to scramble from their hollow transport, they had been set upon by what seemed to be every student of Dalton academy. Even know, rushing through the corridors, Dave couldn't see a single other person. Stupid private school idiots, didn't they know to defend inside as well as outside in a fight like this?

But it didn't matter now. He knew Fancy was around here somewhere. They'd been hiding him way too long. This had to stop.

Bursting into a common room, Dave finally found him.

Kurt had jumped out of his skin when Dave slammed into the room, leaping up from the couch, he could only stare in shock as Dave threw down his gun and stalked towards him, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"H-how the hell did you get in here?" Kurt stuttered.

Dave didn't answer. Finally reaching his prey, he pulled Kurt into his arms and kissed him.

Kurt didn't even bother to fight, melting immediately into his boyfriend's embrace, kissing him back like a starved man falling on a feast. Gaga, how he'd missed him.

Dave pulled back just enough to whisper against Kurt's lips. "I'm sorry I missed your Glee competition."

"I'm sorry I taped over your sports shows with modelling competitions."

"I'm sorry I cancelled your vogue subscription."

"I'm sorry I soaked your shirts in itching powder."

"I never should have spray painted your car."

"I shouldn't have made a bonfire with your hockey sticks."

"I'm sorry I cut up your scarves."

"Sweet Gaga, how did we let it get to here?" Kurt clutched tighter to Dave's shirt, pressing his face into his boyfriend's delicious smelling neck.

"I don't know, Fancy. But let's never do it again." Dave stroked gently down Kurt's back, like he'd never let go again.

"From now on, we talk our problems out."

"Agreed."

"Good, now kiss me again."

"Yes, Sir." Dave grinned.

.o0O.O0o.

Finally, it was over. Dave and Kurt walked together out Dalton's front doors to see both their 'armies' facing them, arms folded and stubborn glares on their faces. Blaine and Azimio stepped towards their friends.

"Well?" Blaine demanded. "Did you work it out?"

"Yes Blaine." Dave grinned. "We worked it out. The fight is over. We're all better now."

"FINALLY!" both sides threw up their arms and cheered.

"It's about bloody time!" Azimio clapped Kurt on the back. "You have no idea what he's been like. It's been hell! If you two ever do this again, we're just locking you in a room to deal with it." His face fell and he stared beseechingly at the two boys. "Please don't ever do this again."

"We won't, Az. It was hell for us too." Kurt said, patting the football player's arm comfortingly.

Dave just grinned and pulled his boyfriend into another deep kiss, much to the cheers and catcalling of their friends.

And, at last, there was some semblance of peace.

The End

.o0O.O0o.

So, what did you think? I hope it was okay. I don't know, I'm not really good with a lot of dialogue . Hope you found it funny.

Anyway, liked it, hated it?

Reviews are love! 3

You guys rock!