A/N: I don't own Glee, or anything you might recognize here.
"Get out," David laughed, and lightly cuffed Wes' shoulder as he smiled at Blaine. "I can't believe either of you are even talking about this."
"Well, last year they spied on Vocal Adrenaline," Blaine reasoned, spreading his hands wide.
"How is it you know this, exactly?" Wes asked.
"Show choir blogs," Blaine reminded him, nodding.
David straightened in his chair and glanced at Wes. "Blaine, the Council appreciates your concern, but we don't think they would do that here."
Wes frowned, then nodded his agreement. "The Warblers' performances are available to anyone who searches for them online. Why take the risk?"
"They don't know our set list, or some of the changes this year," Blaine countered.
David and Wes shared a look. The Warblers had evolved somewhat since Blaine joined them, introducing more movement (some of which could even be called choreography). But the basic Warblers' recipe, of flawless a cappella harmonies, sung in their usual school uniforms, hadn't budged. They'd had a lead singer for a few years, though not one as charismatic as their newest one.
"If it happens, we'll know what to do," Wes stated.
"When they go low, we go high," David quoted.
"I guess you're right, guys. Thanks for listening." Blaine felt a bit disappointed that they hadn't shown much interest in countering the newest serious competition in their region.
"Any time, Blaine," David smiled. "See you at rehearsal."
a few days later …
Blaine rushed down the stairs, checking his watch needlessly; the bustle ahead of him told him he was in danger of running late for the special performance.
"Excuse me, um, can I ask you a question? I'm new here."
Blaine turned around, and saw the boy with the unfamiliar voice. His appearance was as unusual as his voice was: wearing what looked like a vintage Dalton uniform, beautiful eyes, and a lovely face to go with them. "My name is Blaine." He reached out to shake hands, unable to take his eyes off the … intruder! This guy wasn't new here, Blaine knew: all new students were assigned buddies, and any new student mid-year would have had the place buzzing hours ago. He cocked an eyebrow, and wondered if maybe his suspicions that McKinley's glee club would send out spies had come true. A quick glance confirmed that whoever this was, he was alone here.
"Kurt," the boy gave his name. "So, what exactly is going on?"
Blaine couldn't help but smile back. Kurt's smile was so cute, and he hoped to hear more of his voice. "The Warblers. Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the Senior Commons." He added with a wink, "tends to shut the school down for a while." Blaine glanced at his classmates as they headed that way.
"So, wait, the glee club here is kind of cool?" Kurt asked.
Blaine grinned, enjoying this exchange. "The Warblers are like … rock stars." Okay, he thought, maybe that was a bit strong, but they were a beloved institution at Dalton. He saw Kurt's eyebrows rise at this. While he wished he could have talked to Kurt longer, he knew he had run out of time. Chewing a bit on his lip, he decided to take an alternate route, to avoid leading Kurt through the school in a crowd. Wes had reminded him before to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Well, Kurt was adorable, alone, and didn't seem like a threat; but if he was right about him being a spy, he wanted him right where he could see him, and the inspiration that landed next made him smile. "Come on," he reached out and grabbed an incredulous-looking Kurt's hand, "I know a short cut."
He led an unprotesting Kurt down a deserted hallway; one he liked to read in when he wanted a quiet nook with natural light. In those few seconds, grasping Kurt's hand, he became aware of another thought: that it would be obvious to anyone from Dalton that the boy did not fit in, that he was vulnerable. Well, if his plan worked out, Kurt would be safe enough, he reasoned, arriving at the doorway with him just in time.
"Ooh, I stick out like a sore thumb," Kurt breathed, looking around at the crowd.
"Next time, don't forget your jacket, 'new kid'" he winked again, and reached over to straighten out Kurt's lapel. "You'll fit right in." He ducked towards the Warblers, nodded, and said quietly, "now, if you'll excuse me," and turned to take his place as their leader.
Blaine smiled broadly, as he sang the opening lines of their arrangement.
Before you met me, I was all right, but things were kinda heavy,
You brought me to life, now every February, you'll be my Valentine, Valentine.
Blaine made eye contact briefly with Wes, and wondered if Wes caught it: that he'd found an intruder to their school, who was probably a McKinley spy. He danced with his fellow Warblers, though in the crowded Common Room they had to scale it back a bit. Whenever possible, he gazed at Kurt, singing right at him. An invitation? A challenge? He smiled at himself as he realized he was flirting, but Kurt didn't seem to mind. Blaine noticed that his schoolmates were thoroughly into the performance, bopping around and dancing a bit as he performed. He didn't even care if they noticed that he seemed to be singing for Kurt alone.
Then David was singing beside him, and from his smile and knowing glance towards Kurt, Blaine wondered how much David had guessed. He preened, enjoying pointing at Kurt (and having to suppress a snigger at doing such a Coop move!).
I'ma get your heart racing in my skin tight jeans,
Be your teenage dream tonight
Blaine was pleased. The Warblers had never sounded so good, and if they had planned on intimidating the competition, they couldn't have picked a better piece. Singing a recent song, originally sung by girl, and totally owning it, he was proud of his team, and happy with his own performance. Kurt, he noticed, looked more relaxed as the song went on, noticing the crowd less, and (maybe?) getting lost in the performance, smiling back at him encouragingly. How, he wondered, did they find such a cute spy to send to Dalton?
He hammed it up on the last chorus, as the guys let loose with their fullest volume. He added in a double point at himself with the "look at me" line, nodding at Kurt as they finished, and happy that he applauded as enthusiastically as anyone else in the room.
Blaine almost lost sight of Kurt, surrounded by guys high-fiving him and the other Warblers, but hurried past his schoolmates, catching sight of him before he rounded the corner.
"Kurt!" he panted, running down the hallway to catch up. "Wait a minute!"
The boy turned around, and Blaine noticed he was blushing now, which somehow made him even cuter.
"Sorry I … I had to leave," Kurt stammered, "that was really great."
"Kurt," Blaine murmured, stepping closer to him, "can we talk for a minute?" Blaine's heart sunk as he noticed Kurt quickly became pale, and the boy was nervously looking past Blaine as they stood in the same hallway he'd taken Kurt down a few minutes before. "It's just me," he added in a near whisper.
"Okay," Kurt nodded.
"You're not really a new student here, are you?" Blaine asked, as gently as possible.
Kurt gulped, and looked all around again before answering. "No. I'm not."
Blaine watched as Kurt's spine stiffened, the boy standing tall and waiting now for him to speak. "I'm glad you found me, Kurt." He smiled at the boy. "I bet we have a lot in common. We should talk."
"Um, okay. Sure," Kurt answered him.
"How about we meet for coffee?" It dawned on him that Kurt wouldn't know his way around campus. "It's here, in this building, just down at the end of this hall."
Kurt smiled back at him shyly, and looked down at his outfit. "Maybe I could change first. I suddenly feel out of place."
Blaine wondered if this was it, if Kurt would just run, but figured he had to give him some space. "Sure. I'll grab us a table." He reached up to gently squeeze his shoulder. "I'll get us some coffee." He frowned as Kurt nodded and quickly walked away, and then he reached for his phone, to text Wes and David.
Moments later, he sat flanked by the older boys, who already had their coffees, as well as a medium drip for himself, and a latte for Kurt (while he wasn't a fan, the Dalton caf's lattes were legendary).
"You really think he'll show?" Wes asked.
"I do," he answered, looking down at the latte he'd bought for him. "Just a feeling I have, I guess."
David nodded sympathetically. "You did serenade him, after all," he teased.
"Oh God," Blaine groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"David," Wes hissed, "I see him coming. Knock it off."
David rolled his eyes at Wes, and pivoted so he could watch the boy's approach.
Blaine stared at him. Kurt had changed (how had he done it so quickly, he wondered?), and was now wearing an outfit fit for a fashion plate. Suddenly, he was more dressed up than they were. Kurt was also very pale now.
"Latte?" Blaine offered, sliding the cup across to Kurt. "This is Wes and David."
Kurt mouthed a silent 'thank you' and accepted it. He seemed to gather his courage before he spoke.
"It's very civilized of you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying."
Wes, Blaine noticed, was all business as he raised his hand to dispel that notion. "We are not going to beat you up."
David's smile was welcoming and friendly. "You were such a terrible spy, we thought it was sort of," and David grinned right at Blaine before turning back to Kurt, "endearing –"
Blaine cut in, not wanting to give his friends an opportunity to tease him, "which made me think that spying on us wasn't really the reason you came."
Back at his room, Blaine couldn't stop thinking about Kurt. Kurt, dressed like a fashionista, but not from a family that could just send him to Dalton. Who'd had to suffer at the hands of homophobic bullies, and had been heartbreakingly vulnerable as he shared what his experiences had been like.
He shook his head. No one should have to be that brave on a routine basis at school. And if his outfit at coffee had been any indicator, Kurt wasn't shy about owning who he was. He picked up his phone, unaware of the smile that lit up his face as he picked Kurt's number from his contacts. He wrote a message, obliterated it, then another, rolling his eyes at his own verbosity, and put down his phone for a moment. Then he remembered something his mom had told him about Dan Rather and his famous signoff, and typed in a single word. Courage. He hit 'send' and lay back on his bed, unable to get the unlikely spy out of his mind.
A/N: Of course, thanks go out to Katy Perry for Teenage Dream. It's been a long time, and I do plan on updating my loooong fic, but needed to stretch a bit first. On rewatching season two this "missing scene" came to me, and it did seem to fit. I hope you've enjoyed, and if you have comments or feedback, I'd love to hear from you. Courage!
