A/N: A long while ago I went on a tangent on tumblr about Rich Dotcom being there at the hospital for (nonsensical) reasons after Jane gives birth to her and Kurt's first child—and, of course, my mind couldn't resist immediately picturing another criminal acquaintance of theirs visiting, too. A number of people mentioned (a long while back, I apologize!) that they'd want to see James' visit in fic form. So, here's this: yet another AU with an OC. (For those of you on tumblr who've read What's Mine Is Yours, this is a part of that AU.) Enjoy! x)

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If he had been asked even a day ago, Kurt would've said it was impossible to render someone like James Harding speechless. He was the type that talked—and talked and talked and talked—even, and especially when, he should know better and keep his mouth shut. Kurt was used to tuning him out, used to ignoring him when he could manage it, but today—for the first time—there was nothing to ignore. There was nothing to hear.

James was so completely distracted—enchanted?—by the baby he was holding that he hadn't spoken for many minutes. He held Benjamin carefully in his arms, taking care to support both his head and his lower body. The newborn was sleeping for the moment, and despite the oddness of their unexpected and uninvited guest, neither Kurt nor Jane was eager to interrupt. This was the first time Benjamin had slept since he'd been born, just four hours ago.

After a good five minutes, though, Jane finally cleared her throat and murmured something about her son needing feeding. It wasn't exactly true—she'd fed him less than an hour ago—but she couldn't think of another excuse to get her baby back. James Harding wasn't the sort of person you ordered around—he wasn't the sort of person you even hinted at ordering around.

And he was holding her son.

But he gave up Benjamin without a word when asked, passing the infant carefully back to his mother.

"He's really something, huh?"

James kept his eyes on the newborn when he spoke, not looking at Jane or Kurt, and the new parents glanced at each other while Jane quickly adjusted Benjamin back into the safety of her arms. They still weren't exactly clear on why James was here, or how he'd found out their location. They wondered if maybe he'd paid off one of their doctors or nurses for information—or perhaps he'd been keeping an eye on them since they'd last parted ways. Neither wanted to believe the latter possibility, but it unfortunately seemed the most likely. Given the business he was in, he couldn't just let a couple federal employees out of his sight without monitoring their activities afterwards.

Kurt was just trying to figure out a way to wade as carefully as possible into that topic when James suddenly turned and offered his hand. For a second Kurt wasn't sure what to do, until James grinned and grabbed Kurt's hand himself and shook it hard.

"Congratulations, fed. You made a damn cute kid."

"Uh… Thanks—"

"And as a token of goodwill..." James reached into the breast pocket of his suit, and immediately Kurt backed away, putting himself between his family and their visitor. "Oh, calm down, would you?" James complained with a roll of his eyes. "I didn't bring a gun with me. I'm not going to shoot you while you're celebrating your son's birth."

"You threatened to shoot me when I was trying to propose to my wife."

"Yeah, well, you were in my way then," James muttered. He withdrew his hand from his pocket, producing a plain white envelope that he handed to Kurt. "Best of luck," he said, and with a nod for Jane and a smile for Benjamin and not a word more, he stepped out the door.

"What is it?" Jane asked the second he was gone, peering at the unmarked envelope in her husband's hands with interest just before Benjamin fussed and started crying again.

"Probably just a stupid card," Kurt muttered, tearing the envelope open, as Jane adjusted their baby in her arms, and started to nurse again. "I bet it's some awful joke about when we were..."

Jane was busy with their son, and so she didn't notice, at first, the look of disbelief that spread across her husband's face as he inspected the contents of the envelope. She didn't see the way his mouth opened and closed, the way he failed to draw breath, or speak. She didn't see his hand go rigid around the piece of paper in his hands, nor did she see him blink, hard, as if trying to clear a hallucination and return to reality.

When she did look up a few seconds later, however, she was greeted by the sight of her husband gripping the edge of her hospital bed very hard, looking like he was about to pass out.

She sat up immediately, reaching for him with one hand as she held Benjamin close with the other. "Kurt," she called, grabbing his wrist. "Kurt, what is it? What's wrong? What did he write, what does the card say?"

"It's not…" Kurt swallowed, searching for words. He could not stop staring at the flimsy piece of paper in his hands. He couldn't make his brain work. He could not begin to fathom…

"It's not a card," he finally managed to say.

"Okay, then—what is it?"

Kurt shook his head, not having the words to explain.

"Kurt, talk to me." Jane's voice took on a desperate edge, and her hand finally pried his from the bed, and twined their fingers together. "Talk to me, you're scaring me. What does he want?"

"Wants nothing," Kurt forced out, shaking his head. "He doesn't want…" Kurt closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. It was easier to speak with his eyes closed, easier to imagine in the darkness that this wasn't quite real.

"It's a check," he managed to whisper finally.

"A check?" Jane frowned, fear evaporating all at once as curious confusion took its place. "What's he giving us money for? We're fine."

"Fine," Kurt repeated, hardly hearing her. His opened his eyes again, and focused on the check once more. He couldn't stop staring at all the zeros written there. Or the full amount spelled out in neat, practiced cursive, on the second line. Or the signature in the bottom right corner.

"Kurt…" Jane pushed herself up further in bed, feeling his wonder spread to her, too. It must be a lot, for him to look like this. It must be a hell of a lot. "Kurt, how much money is it for?"

Kurt stared at the second line of the check. He closed his eyes, opened them. But the words were still there. They still matched the amount written in the small box off to the side. They were still validated by the neat signature in the bottom corner.

"It's…"

He took a breath. It would sound like a joke. It was a joke; it had to be.

"It's for one million, five hundred thousand dollars. And—ten cents."

Jane didn't say anything immediately. She just stared at her husband, and listened to him speak, and waited for him to say the real amount. Waited for him to grin and say—Ha, just kidding, got you! But he stood and stared. He could not take his eyes off the check.

"Let me see," Jane whispered finally.

He gave it to her readily, happy to no longer be the sole person responsible for such an enormous amount of wealth in such a precarious form. He watched Jane's face as she stared at the check. She inspected the same corners he did. She turned it over. She held it up to the light. Finally, she set it back down on her bedspread. She looked up at her husband.

"We can't take it," they said at the same time.

"Of course not," Jane added firmly.

"It'd be impossible—not to mention unethical," Kurt pointed out.

He was preaching to the choir, reasoning with the air.

Jane passed the check to him. "You have to give it back. Now. Go find him and give it back."

And though Kurt in no way wanted to and face James again—let alone to give him his extremely generous gift back—he did as his wife bid. She, after all, had just spent the better part of today and yesterday laboring to bring their son into the world. He could do this one tiny, physically painless thing for her.

When Kurt stepped out into the hall, James was standing a few yards away, checking his phone. He didn't look up immediately, but Kurt got the sense he had been waiting here for this conversation. And why not? Kurt thought. How could James expect that he and Jane would take his money? How could anyone take his money, knowing where it came from?

"Harding."

James glanced up at the sound of Kurt's voice, a smile already on his face as he tucked his phone away. "Ah, there's the new dad. How's it feel?"

"Fine," Kurt replied, not caring to bother with pleasantries anymore. He held up the envelope, brandishing it in the light where it could clearly be seen that the check was inside. "We can't take this."

"Oh, no?" James sounded amused. "And why not? What's wrong? Is the amount insufficient?"

"It's not the amount—" Kurt's voice was starting to rise, and so he forced himself to break off, to take a breath. He wouldn't make a scene in this hospital, not with his wife and baby son just feet away. Not with security guards downstairs, and cops just a phone call away. "You know what's wrong," he told James quietly, taking a few steps forward so he could be heard. "We can't take your—your—"

"What? My blood money?" James grinned. "Thought you might say that." He pushed the outstretched check back towards Kurt, and then tucked his hands in his pockets. "That's why that money is very special. It doesn't come from work."

Far from looking relieved, Kurt's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Where does it come from then?"

James laughed. "You're looking at me like you think I stole it."

"Well—didn't you?"

"No, I—" He broke off, and snapped his fingers quickly, chasing after a word. "What's the phrase you all would use in a dossier? I am—ah, right—I am independently wealthy, as they say. Work's more of a hobby than a necessity. That money—" he nodded at the check "—has been in my possession as long as I've been your new son's age. It hasn't been earned through my professional exploits. So you're safe to use it in good conscience however you like."

"So it..." Kurt frowned, trying to catch up. "It's an inheritance or something?"

"Yes, and it's been mine since the day I was born." He paused, eyeing Kurt carefully. "If you'd like to check, I'll permit a fed to look at my finances just this once—but only because I don't want you to scorn the money simply because it comes from me. It's meant in good faith," he added, and Kurt couldn't help but believe the sincerity in his would-be benefactor's voice.

He looked back down at the envelope again, and studied the check once more. He frowned.

"What's with the ten cents, though?"

"Oh." James smirked, proud. "Gwennie threw that in. Said congrats on the squealing bundle of debt."

Kurt couldn't help it—he burst out laughing. All of this was just too surreal to be believed. It was like a fever dream, or a reality television joke. He almost started to look for the hidden cameras.

"This is ridiculous," he whispered. "Absolutely ridiculous. I can't…" He walked a few feet away and sank into one of the chairs set up in the hallway. James remained standing where Kurt had left him. "I can't take this, you know," Kurt whispered, meeting his eyes. "Even if it isn't from your work—"

"Why can't you take it?" James' voice was surprisingly gentle when he interrupted. He took a couple steps forward, and then took a seat next to the new father. "I mean, yeah, we're not the best of friends, but come on. Money is money, and I've already told you it was earned legally. You won't be a war profiteer if you spend it; you won't be furthering any arms trades. It's just a gift. You needn't have this moral dilemma over a little gift, trust me."

"A little gift? It's for one-point-five million dollars!"

"Well, 'little' is relative, I suppose. I can make that much in a weekend. As for you… How many lifetimes would it take again?"

Kurt closed his eyes. "I will never understand you. I swear to God, I'll never understand."

"Well, good thing I'm not asking you to." James tapped the envelope. "I'm just asking you to keep the check, and put it to good use where your son is concerned. That's it."

Kurt nodded to that, and for the moment, thought better of asking any questions. He stared down at the envelope, and carefully drew the check out and inspected it one more time. He wasn't looking for errors this time, he was simply curious. And increasingly thankful, if this was actually a legitimate offer. If they were actually going to keep it.

Again, his eyes returned back to the ten cents, still hung up on it, and who was behind it.

"Where is she, by the way? Your wife?" Kurt glanced down either end of the hallway carefully, as if expecting her to materialize like a demon when called. He wouldn't put it past her. "Didn't she come with you? From—wherever it is you came from?"

James smiled and shook his head, laughing at a joke no one else got. "Kurt, my wife would quite literally rather take a bullet to the head than meet your newborn. No offense," he added quickly, tipping his head at their hospital room. "Ben's cute. How many more do you think you're gonna have?"

"Oh, uh…" Kurt faltered, caught off-guard. "I'm… not sure." He cleared his throat for a moment's reprieve. "We haven't—Jane and I haven't really talked about it yet."

"Ah." James grinned knowingly, seeing through the awkwardness easily. "Bit of an accident, was he? Well—" He got to his feet with a shrug. "Nothing to be ashamed of. We're all accidents in one way or another, aren't we?"

Kurt didn't really know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything at all. He got to his feet as well.

For a moment they stood facing each other, and Kurt hesitated. Despite earlier in the hospital room, he and James weren't exactly the type of acquaintances that shook hands. Then again, a simple "Bye" seemed like a cold thank-you after a gift of a million and a half dollars.

James smiled at his dilemma, and tipped his head. "See you around, fed. Congrats on the kid."

He was halfway down the hall by the time Kurt finally found his voice. He knew from years of experience, from all the futile months spent searching, that it was impossible to find James Harding once he walked off into the world. If Kurt wanted to say something to him, he had to say it now.

"Harding—what's this really about? The check?"

James turned and stared a moment. Kurt stared back, and did his best not to flinch. He didn't know what James was looking for, what he was thinking about. But he knew he didn't want to falter in front of him. For his family's sake and his own sake, he would stand straight and tall.

"You seem like you'd make a good dad," James said finally. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. "I don't want you let work or money get in the way of that."

"But this much?" Kurt pressed. "You didn't need to give us this much."

James waved a dismissive hand, the seriousness gone from him now. "Ah, well, chalk it up to human error, then. I'm a bit out of touch with the average American, as I'm sure you can imagine. I rounded up to be safe."

Rounded up from what? Kurt wanted to ask, but refrained. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Once he deposited this check, he and Jane wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again. They could pay for Ben's college, no matter which he chose. They could put him through private school, prep school, whatever he wanted, whatever he needed. They could buy a house, a real house. They wouldn't have to work late nights or weekends or holidays anymore.

James chuckled at the look of relief slowly spreading its way across Kurt's face. "Freeing, isn't it?"

He turned back to the exit, lifting his hand in a final wave as he called over his shoulder, "Let me know when you want it to be your regular salary. Gwennie and I could always use a few more employees—especially if that wife of yours can get us back into China."

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A/N: Thank you for reading! I know this update is very random, but I've had this story in my WIP file for a while, and I really loved this little plot and wanted to share it with you guys. :) Reviews would be lovely if you have thoughts.

PS - If you're interested, you can discover more about James (and Gwen) through the link on my profile. You'll also find the link to my tumblr there, where you can read more stories those two and Jane and Kurt under the 'crossover' tag.

Thank you for reading! :)