A/N: This IS rated M for the reasons you're hoping it is (I see you, pervs. Takes one to know one), but there is plot in this story, so read through it and see what you think!

Split up for easier reading (:

I owe inspiration for this fic to thelonehufflepuff who was kind enough to brainstorm through it with me. Thanks to her!

The sun was unforgiving. It was only ten in the morning and it was already beginning to feel like the hottest day of the summer by far.

Kurt wiped the streaks of sweat running down his face with the back of his hand. He'd probably left a smudges of dirt behind, not that he had time to think about that right now. He was knee-deep in mud that was threatening to rise higher than his boots and stain the legs of his jeans.

The humidity levels were so high lately that there'd been a thunderstorm the night before, soaking every acre of the Hummel's property with fresh rain. While that was good news for the growing crops, the soil had been flooded from the showers - too much of a good thing.

Burt had sent Kurt out early in the morning to begin tilling the soil. Clad in his worn jeans - the ones with holes all over the thighs and thin strings of fabric threatening to rip apart – and a green, plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he'd gone out to the fields armed only with a shovel, a jug of water, and his own determination.

It'd been six hours since he'd began and only a few rows of the plants were starting to resemble anything normal again. His arms were sore with the familiar ache of a hard morning's work as he gripped the shovel tightly. His fingers were calloused and full new of splinters from the wooden handle.

He squinted into the bright sunlight, shielding his eyes with his hand. He regretted leaving his hat back at the house, but it was too late and too far to go back and get it now. The Hummel Ranch was the biggest in the county, and they prided themselves on its size and success. Getting around it on foot would probably take all day long.

He took a swig of water and swished it around his mouth before downing almost half of the container. It was so hot that he could practically see the heat waves coming up from the dirt and swirling around the thick air.

The flannel shirt sticking to his back and arms was starting to feel unbearably heavy as he continued his daunting task. He wasn't usually one for showing skin, but after another hour of labor, he had to undo the topmost buttons of his shirt. A warm breeze was drifting by and took the flaps of his shirt and blew them open. The relief of air on his drenched skin was nothing short of glorious.

He spent the whole afternoon in the same fashion, his legs aching from trudging through the thick, brown mud and his arms feeling like they were a second from falling off. His shirt and was soaked through with sweat and the collar was turning brown from it. The back of his neck felt sunburned if his red-tinged arms were any indication. The worst part was that the day wasn't even over yet.

"Hey, kiddo," called a nearby voice.

There was the thud of hooves on dirt as Kurt turned around to find his father upon a brown horse.

"Hey, Dad," he greeted, welcoming the break from his work. "What brings you this far away from the barn? Weren't you supposed to be rebuilding the fencing?"

Unfortunately, the storm had come with some high winds that had knocked down the fences that usually kept in the herds of animals they housed there. It'd been a mess when Kurt had seen it in the morning as he headed out

"Yeah, I got most of it back up, the most important parts anyways. It'll do for now, at least. I came over to see if you needed my help, but it looks like you got it covered." Burt looked impressed. He dismounted his horse.

"I don't know why you doubt me," Kurt sassed. "I've only been doing this my entire life. A little manual work never hurt anyone." In actuality, he'd surprised himself. The entire field was looking much better and he was just about wrapping it up.

"Well it's getting late. Carole's making a big dinner - you know how she gets. She's cooked for everyone tonight."

Kurt nodded. He did know how enthusiastic Carole got about cooking and "feeding her men" as she liked to put it.

"I'd tell her she's being a housewife again, but I have to say that after working all day without taking a lunch break, that sounds really good right about now," Kurt admitted.

"Leave the rest for tomorrow," Burt told him. "Lord knows it'll still be here."

"Yeah, you're right," Kurt said, shouldering his tool. "I managed to save most of the crop at least." He wiped his brow for what was conceivably the hundredth time all day.

"What would I do without you, kid?" Burt asked, patting his son on the back.

Kurt laughed. "There's Finn, Dad. You'd get by. Not to mention Puck, Brittany, Santana, Sam…" He ticked off the names of the other employees on his fingers. "And countless others."

"Ah, Finn and Carole are new to this life," Burt commented. "Finn's built for hard labor, but we had to teach him the ropes. The rest are pretty good, but you? You're a natural."

"It's all I've known," Kurt corrected him. "Finn will turn out better than me, you just wait and see."

"That'll be the day," Burt joked. "Ah, I'm only joking, you know that. Now let's get back to the house. I'll ride ahead and let Carole know you're on your way."

"Sounds good," Kurt told him as he bent down to retrieve his water and readjust his boots.

Burt gave him a nod before remounting his horse and snapping the reigns. Like an expert horseman, he sped away, a cloud of dust on his horse's back hooves.

Kurt marched through the dirt and wandered over to the field a little ways away where he'd left Charlie, his horse, to graze in the morning. The animal was loyal and never wandered, so Kurt never had to worry about tying him up. He clicked his tongue twice before he heard hooves moving through the long grass.

The horse was black with white fur around its hooves and markings on its face.

"Hey, Charlie," Kurt spoke softly, stroking the colt by its ears. "Did you have a good day?"

The horse neighed and bucked its head happily.

Kurt laughed as he grabbed the reigns to steady him. "I'm glad to hear that."

There was a satchel attached to the saddle where he stored his water jug and makeshift straps to tie around both ends of his shovel and secure best as he could – something of his own invention. It wasn't perfect, but if he didn't push Charlie to run too fast, it got the job done.

He hoisted a foot up into the nearest stirrup and used his arms to pull himself up and over the horse until he was sitting atop it. When he was settled, he nudged the horse gently with the heels of his boots and they were speeding off towards the house.

Kurt was shoveling food into his mouth at lightning speed. He always made fun of Finn for scarfing down meals, but after his long day of work, he was beginning to understand the feeling.

The table was laden with golden fried chicken, sweet bread rolls, steaming vegetables of every kind, mashed potatoes, and fresh milk. But the lovely spread wouldn't be complete without people to share it with. There was the Hummel-Hudson family joined by a few of their closest friends who also happened to be the ranch hands.

Pleasant chatter was passed around the table while everyone was relishing their first serving. Kurt, on the other hand was taking the opposite approach.

He bit off a huge chunk of piping hot chicken and chased it down with the cold milk.

"Slow down," Burt laughed. "Where's the fire?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized, not really sorry at all, "I'm just starving." He turned to face his stepmother. "Carole, I honestly don't remember how I even survived before my dad married you. You are the best cook in all of Ohio and I'm not just saying that either."

"Seriously," Santana seconded. "This is delicious, Mrs. Hummel."

There were mutters of agreement from all.

"Well thank you," she accepted the praise. "I've never had so many mouths to feed, so I'm just glad you like it."

"Trust me, Dad's idea of dinner is reheated pancakes," Kurt said, spearing some green beans with his fork.

"That is not true," Burt protested from across the table.

"Just telling the truth, Dad." Kurt shrugged as he continued to eat.

Finn was starting in on his third helping when he finally spoke for the first time.

"So, Burt…" he began.

"Dad," Burt interrupted. "I told you to call me 'Dad' son."

"Dad," Finn said with a small smile. "What's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

But instead of Burt being the one to answer, Puck rudely interjected. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, Burt. We might have run into a little problem."

"Problem?" Kurt's voice rose to a high pitch. "With the ranch, you mean?"

"Yeah," Puck continued to eat, seeming to be unbothered. "I was out talking to Mr. Jenson at the marketplace and asking him how much he was going to buy this week and he cut down his usual order by half."

All of the scraping forks were silenced. No one said a word, no one even breathed.

"By half?" Burt asked as if he couldn't believe his ears. "Why would he do that?"

"He said something about another ranch nearby – someplace new – that sold their produce for cheaper, at least that's the rumor."

"What?" Kurt furrowed his brow in confusion. "We're the only supplier for miles. All the markets buy from us. This has to be a mistake."

"No, it's true. The other buyers were talking about it too. Lots of people cut back their usual orders because they were going to check out this new supplier."

"A…new ranch?" Kurt repeated. "Maybe they're a specialty farm, maybe they're a dairy or they raise cattle for slaughter. It can't be that bad…"

"I've heard rumors about that too, but I'd hoped they weren't true," Burt admitted. "A lot of it is hearsay, mind you. They're about as big as us from what I hear and they have a lot more workers to tend the land." The man's eyes were bleak with fear. Kurt knew just how much this farm and this business meant to his father.

"How could you hear about that and just…keep it from us?" Finn asked, looking extremely upset. "Don't you think we'd be interested in that information?"

Brittany drummed her fingers against the tabletop nervously. "What are we going to do?" she fretted.

"Well it's obvious, isn't it?" Puck shrugged. All eyes turned to him. "Someone's gotta go over there and check them out…Kurt…" Puck shifted to face him. "Why don't you, uh, go make yourself useful and go spy on the competition?"

Kurt thought it over for a second, "Fine," he snapped, pursing his lips. "Since no one else is willing to do it, I will. I'll just go over there tomorrow, put on the old Hummel charm, dig up what dirt I can and come back."

Burt nodded his approval. "That just might work," he conceded.

"Yeah, like going behind enemy lines," Finn agreed.

"So it's settled," Kurt said, still not entirely pleased with the turn of events. "I'll go find out everything I can while you guys come up with some new ideas to keep the Hummel Ranch on the map. We're not keen on sharing," he smirked.

"But I like sharing," Brittany said. "It's my favorite thing to do, just ask Santana."

Everyone laughed as they resumed their meal, effectively diffusing any leftover tension.

So they were decided.

The mixed family finished their meal in even higher spirits than they'd begun. Tomorrow would be an interesting day indeed.

A/N: Alright, are you ready for what's next? (;