Of Perspiration and Gun-Powder
Summary: On his seventeenth birthday, Blaine Anderson enlists in the US Military. But with his wild curls, an outrageous old army helmet from the last century and a ditzy, excitable demeanor … no one seems to be taking him seriously. Especially not the colonel of his troops… Kurt Hummel.
Klaine AU.
-xx-
"Hey Colonel… what'd you think of the newbies?"
"They're second-rate. No one stood out."
"No need to be so harsh on 'em, sir. And that Anderson kid sure stood out!"
"Who?"
"Blaine Anderson."
"I don't remember him."
"He was the restless one with the cabbage patch curls and that dopey old helmet. He blitzed the APFT…almost got a perfect score, he did."
"Oh him. He had that sparkle in his eyes."
"Aha! I knew you'd like at least one of them."
"No. I didn't like him. He doesn't have what it takes… not at all."
-xx-
"Blaine Anderson!" A young female first lieutenant bellowed. Blaine recognized her from Army Physical Fitness Test. Stephanie Watkins… she was the one who had run his events. She was unforgettable with her poker-faced front and slicked back blonde hair. Blaine noticed she'd missed a single strand that was left lingering on her forehead. She had impassive hazel eyes and was immeasurably pretty. Despite the casual setting of the US Army meeting room, she held a Taurus Protector Polymer revolver tightly in her hands, the barrel tilted ever so slightly towards another enlister who sat beside Blaine. This process had been repeated several times. Lieutenant Watkins would announce one of their names and then inform them of their results. Even if he was expecting it, Blaine froze involuntarily when he heard his called.
"You…" She paused, consulting her clipboard which was bustling with forms. "…topped the fitness test. The multiple choice test, the ASVAB, is a test that no one passes or fails. However in your case, you certainly passed." Blaine bit his lip giddily. The results were sounding wonderful so far, he just couldn't contain himself.
"It should also be noted that within the test you selected that you only wished to work in the combat field, is that correct?"
"Yes… ma'am."
"The report for your high school academic achievements provided us with an abundance of evidence of your intelligence… Are you sure you wouldn't want to re-consider your choices?"
"I just want to join the troops. Ma'am."
"Then I suppose there's no point dragging this out. You made the cut, Anderson. You'll begin the white phase of your army training immediately. And get a damn hair-cut would you? I don't know how you got away with that mop during reception week…"
"With all due respect, miss I-"
"Miss?"
"Lieutenant Watkins, I mean I just, uh, think my hair won't affect m-my performance." Blaine stuttered nervously, his hand flinging to his loose-hanging curls. They were half-concealed by a battered old helmet he'd been wearing the entire duration of his tests. No one bothered to ask why he insisted on wearing the thing. In fact, he doubted anyone knew how seriously he was taking the entire affair.
"It's standard protocol, Anderson. Leave it if you wish you… but I won't be responsible if one of the Majors hacks it off in phase two while you sleep. BCT lasts for at least seven more weeks, as you are well aware, if you ever want to become a soldier the hair has to go."
"Has anyone's hairstyle ever caused an accident, Lieutenant?" Blaine mumbled. A few other enlisters at the table snickered.
"No it has not. Because no one else refused to have their hair-cut," She responded edgily. "Don't be foolish and talk back either."
"Sorry ma'am."
"The helmet's next to go," She muttered. "This is a conference room not a battlefield. Not that that ragged thing would do anything to preserve your head. Your curls would act as a better protection than that thing."
"Yes ma'am…uh sorry ma'am."
She smirked, "Congratulations though."
"Oh!" He beamed up at her. "Thank you so much"
She purposefully shifted the hand where her firearm sat, "Please don't make me re-consider your position here."
"S-sorry Lieutenant Watkins!"
-xx-
"This- here, sir- is the list of new recruits. We've got a pretty impressive bunch undergoing the White Phase next week."
"Why is Blaine Anderson on this list?"
"Uh… he was our best enlister. He outshone all of the other recruits… Forgive me Colonel, we simply couldn't let him go."
"He's complacent! He doesn't want to be here. I specifically told you not to take him on."
"Please sir… you have to see him in action before you judge him."
"I've seen all I want to see. Get him out."
"But sir… Stephanie's already given him the news. Give him another chance. You won't regret it."
"He's seventeen… he's dense and unfocused."
"He was on top of his academic class."
"He has nothing to offer us."
"Why are you so caught up on him? Everyone else got a chance."
"Why are you questioning my decisions?"
"I'm sorry, Colonel. It's just we conferred with some of the big guns. Bigger than you, even. They seemed to like him. They think he has some optimism that we could use around here."
"Optimism has no place in a military force."
"Can't you just give him a chance?"
"…He has two weeks to substantially improve. If I'm disappointed he's out of here."
"The combat training still has seven weeks to go."
"Have him learn it in two. I won't budge on this, Major."
"I understand… sir."
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