They didn't tell him exactly how long they'd refrain from contacting him about his new mission, so he was forced to go back to 'normal'. Going back to his mundane life as a civilian without any contact at all with Blaine Anderson was one of the hardest transitions he remembered making. It apparently affected him more than he anticipated as when he went out to meet his friend for coffee, his behaviour was questioned. He had no good excuse, so all he did was shrug and say "I'm alright" in a slightly defeated tone, convincing no one of his well being.

Not only that, but the days were starting to become monotonous. Was it Tuesday? Or Sunday? Had it not been for his teachers constantly noting his class of an assignment coming up in x-many days, he'd probably just be drifting. It was quite the miracle he even got to class, really.

But at his current count, today was the weekend, a Sunday to be precise, and he was tired of being stuck in the funk he found himself in and wanted to get out of it. So he decided to go down to Broadway and explore- maybe a show had open seats that he could snag. Musicals always made him happy- ever since he was little. Maybe he could see Wicked. He loved that show, and fondly remembered the time that he and Rachel Berry sang For Good in the Gershwin theatre back in their junior year of high school when they were in New York for Nationals.

He fixed the blue tie he wore before leaving the apartment and into the cold windy New York street. Broadway was much too far for him to walk to so he flung out his arm to hail a cab. He didn't exactly expect it to take too long to get one to pick him up- his jacket, blue in one light and purple in the other, got many heads to turn in his direction while he walked.

Sure enough, a minute later, the iconic yellow taxi pulled up in front of him. Kurt pulled open the door and slipped inside, the heat blasting out of the vents warming his face instantly. His hands? A little slower.

"37th Street and 5th Avenue, please." He said, running his ands back and forth in front of his mouth, trying to heat them up.

There was no answer from the driver, but the car started moving anyway, so he paid it little mind. Kurt leaned his head back against the headrest and thought about that day in the Gershwin theatre. Sure, they had entered illegally, but the security guard was the nicest man he'd ever met and just let them in.

Both he and Rachel nailed their NYADA auditions, but Kurt just couldn't afford it. He got all the scholarships he applied for, but it wasn't enough. For a while, he was upset about it, as Rachel was ecstatic about her future alma mater. After a bit of time though, with some major consoling from Mercedes, he decided that he'd make a better impact in the world of fashion than in theatre.

It wasn't his proudest moment, realizing that he had to give up this thing he had been working towards. But he was content with it now, especially as the CIA was acting on their promise to employ him.

Even if his future employment depended on this guy he had to rescue a few months ago.

He looked out the window and watched the buildings pass by, slowly but faster than he would have thought for a Sunday morning. It wasn't an absurd happenstance, but it was a bit unusual. The word 'unusual' stuck in his head as they turned a corner and headed in the, rather clearly, opposite direction. He looked up to the front of the cab to see the driver, a man in a black suit and a white shirt, looking back at him through the rear view mirror, a grin on his face.

"It took you long enough, Hummel."

Kurt let out a rather loud groan and threw his head back against the headrest in mild frustration. It wasn't that he wasn't happy the driver picked him up, as it meant he could see Blaine again sometimes soon and he could start getting paid as well, but he was looking forward to that play. "So I take it Blaine's done?" He asked in a slightly depressed tone, looking out the window.

"Of course. He's in shape, which takes out half of the problem usually faced with new recruits. It takes closer to two months for those who are starting from scratch. He managed it in three weeks." So that's how long it had been. "We're glad we don't have to get you up to speed though, your time at the gym will do well."

He looked at the driver expectedly. "You followed me?"

The man threw his head back in laughter. "We're the CIA. We follow everyone." He sighed slightly- as absurd as it was, he knew it to be true.

However, as nice as the driver was, Kurt couldn't manage to warm up to him properly. The whole ride to the New York office was filled with chill conversation and dry laughter. When they finally got their destination, he was more than happy to leave the cab and disregard the man's plans or itinerary. In fact, he was more than happy just to walk around the main lobby and explore the place. He hadn't been in this building in ages, so he was more than happy to just wander, trying to blend in, or even get lost. His last visit here was only about one afternoon and then after his last mission, he spent most of his time in the D.C. building.

"Hummel!" The Commander's voice rang in his ears. It was unforgettable; the gruff sounds that the man produced while giving orders to dozens of agents. "Nice jacket."

Kurt didn't even crack a smile. The one time he truly just wanted to wander around, find his friend, he was pulled into a talk with boss. "Thank you, sir." He said, putting on a fake smile and turning around to face the man.

He was wearing a grey suit, which fit his personality much better than any black and white suit the cooperation could ever produce. "Come to my office. I've been waiting for you. Let's talk." Without another word, another glance, the Commander turned on his heel and started walking down the halls. With an almost defeated sigh, he dragged his feet, following the man through a series of semi-familiar corridors.

When the office appeared at the end of the hall, Kurt knew that it would always bring him a thought of despair. Not that the Commander was a bad man, but no good could come from, or to, anyone sitting on the other side of the Commander's desk. However, when they entered, the dreaded desk and the chair he was destined to sit in were blocked from his view as his head was shoved into a mess of black hair.

Strong arms encompassed him, pulling him close to a rock hard chest and into a hug. "God I've missed you so much." Blaine's hot breath tickled his ear, as Kurt wrapped his arms around the other boy, holding him tight. He ran his hands up and down Blaine's back, feeling the newly formed muscles that ran up and down.

"I've missed you too." Kurt said, refusing to be the one to break the hug. He had gone far too long without seeing Blaine. If he wasn't going to let go anytime soon, Kurt wasn't exactly going to complain.

But the Commander minded. He cleared his throat and took a seat behind the desk. "Please seat down and let's get started. I need you both to be out of here in a matter of hours. There will be time to chit chat then."

They didn't pull apart right away as Blaine ran his hand down the length of his arm before interweaving their fingers and holding onto his hand tightly. Just the feeling of the boy's skin against his own made Kurt's hair stand on end in the best way, making a small smile appear on the corners of his lips. Blaine reached over to the wall and pulled over a second chair, his arm muscles bulging slightly as he moved the decently sized chair over next to the one already set up singlehandedly.

He was dressed in biking shorts and a plain white v-neck t-shirt, as if he was just plucked from training and planted in the office. Something told him that wasn't exactly far from the truth.

When the two chairs were as close to each other as physics would allow, they both sat down, their hands still intertwined. For a moment the Commander stared at their hands, refusing to go on before they separated, as if having a possible relationship was a crime.

But Kurt knew it was dangerous. They had talked about it when he was going through training. Granted, it was so long ago and they were young so it barely fazed them at the time, but they were lectured nonetheless. They were lectured against being in a relationship and working at the same time, as it could create an unnecessary emotional attachment to something that could create a potential moment's hesitance and then cause something else to go wrong. There were a lot of ifs, but as much as he hated it, it made logical sense.

"Right. Now, we've gotten word that there is some illegal smuggling on the Florida coast. We want you two to go down, investigate and apprehend those involved." The Commander's voice had that authoritative air about it again- they weren't guests (as if they ever were), they were now agents. "We'll give you some gadgets to help you and some general coordinates, but we don't have much to go on other than that." He said.

Kurt eyed his new partner curiously to see how he was taking this news. Blaine sat stone-faced, nodding occasionally to the Commander's voice. It would be nice to go to Florida with him. Even if they get nowhere with the case, the vacation with the other boy could be rather enjoyable. By the look of Blaine's arms earlier, Kurt would be ensured, at the very least, a good view.

"I'm game." The boy's voice took him out of his daydream, causing him to look over to the well toned body beside him. Kurt nodded. He didn't really have a choice whether he wanted to go or not, in the long run. He wanted to protect his new job, after all.

Not that he'd decline a free trip to Florida.

"Perfect." The Commander smiled, giving Kurt a bad feeling in his stomach before looking at the two of them. "I'll send word to special tech, you'll head over there once you two change into something more... professional."

A small grin appeared on Kurt's face as he looked into his lap. So what if their attire wasn't exactly CIA-material? They were going undercover. The last thing they needed was to walk around Florida in black suits. Lima, Ohio in autumn was one thing- in Florida, no matter what the season, will be rather warm.

Without another word, the Commander looked down at his paperwork and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Blaine methodologically got up out of the chair and went to the door. Kurt bit his lip as he quickly followed suit. Did three weeks of hard core military training change him? He was broken going into the program and was cut off from his one source of therapy- anything could happen.

No.

He was the same boy that Kurt rescued from that building, the same boy that he spent weeks with after the fact, talking with and getting to know. A cold mechanical being wouldn't have taken him into a giant embrace at first sight and refused to let go. He just had different masks now, a different role to play in front of certain people.

Blaine could take it off whenever he wanted, like in the hall alone with Kurt, and do what he wanted, like slip his hand into Kurt's as they walked to, what Kurt would forever call the wardrobe department of the CIA. It was actually called the Locker Room, but the performer in him couldn't stay away from the term 'wardrobe'. Blaine gripped Kurt's hand a little harder as they travelled down the bland hallway.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, looking over at him. "You have a funny look on your face."

Kurt smiled fondly at his words and nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking." He said. It was a horrible excuse, but Blaine didn't really push it, letting the two of them walk in silence for a little. "How are you though? How was training?" He didn't know how different Blaine's training was from his own, but he couldn't imagine it was the same. Exercises for 8 year olds weren't the same for 20 year olds.

A small chuckle escaped Blaine's smirked lips. "Did you know on the first day, they say that only 1 in 20 of the recruits will make it through training?" Kurt shook his head- he knew the recruit class was small anyway, probably about 60 people. "So many people dropped out after the first few days. I met this guy, Dustin, who left about a week and a half in. He helped me through the beginning."

He knew what the other boy was talking about- the emotional toll that was still being paid since the warehouse. It had been two months, but you don't get over stuff like that too fast. The two of them had made amazing progress, alone in their apartments watching movies, but training probably halted whatever advancement Blaine tried on his own.

"I'm proud of you for making it, though. The odds were against you."

Blaine looked over, his bushy eyebrows surrounding his brightly lit eyes. "I thought of you." He admitted quietly. Kurt tried to hide the embarrassed and slightly flattered look on his face. "They said you said I could do it. I believe in you, Kurt."

Kurt was speechless, but luckily for him, he wasn't speechless for long. They reached Wardrobe and dropped their entwined hands, for appearances' sake. They both had to wear the mask, no matter how good the boy's rough hands felt in his. They'd just have to take each moment they had and savour it. The rarest moments, he heard, were always the sweetest.

Luckily for him, the agents behind the counter had their clothes picked out for them and it wasn't a black suit with a white shirt. Either they had the same logic about the weather that Kurt had, or they had a sense of style and thought that a suit in Florida screamed suspicious.

Instead, Kurt was dressed in blue button down shirt with a grey vest and pants. He decided to roll up the sleeves of the shirt to his elbows as he looked in the mirror. He certainly didn't look like a CIA agent, which was a good thing, but he couldn't think of what back story the Commander thought up for them.

He left the dressing room to see Blaine waiting for him in a chair. He was wearing a red collar shirt with a brown sweater over it with a pair of jeans. He seemed a little uncomfortable as he stood up. "What's wrong?" Kurt asked. "You look good."

Blaine turned to the mirror and looked at his reflection and tilted his head slightly. "It needs a bow tie." He said, rubbing his neck. The shirt wasn't buttoned all the way, so he couldn't think of why he thought a bow tie would bring it all together.

"A bow tie?" Kurt repeated skeptically.

The other boy put his hands in his pockets, letting his thumbs ride the edge, and shrugged a little. "Bow ties are cool."

Kurt laughed a little and pulled Blaine's arm, tugging the boy out of the Wardrobe and down the hall towards the special weaponry. It was a short trip, so Kurt merely leaned into Blaine as they walked. They only encountered one or two people in suits on their journey but they didn't bother putting on the masks for them.

They didn't seem to mind, so neither did the boys.

Special weaponry wasn't as amazing as it sounded, if you didn't work there. Kurt knew a little bit of the department, but it was all surface knowledge- things any agent knew. Since most of the weapon development was done behind closed doors, the special weaponry lobby was fairly plain, revealing nothing about upcoming discoveries.

Because of this, Kurt had to blink a few times as they entered the room, white paint glistening in the florescent lighting. There were no chairs, only a tan counter with a doorway behind it. There were no video cameras that he could detect and no window on the door to see into or out of. He realized why the Commander sent word ahead of their arrival- they wouldn't be able to tell otherwise.

"Do we do something?" Blaine whispered to Kurt, looking around.

While he understood why the other boy asked him what to do, he had no idea- the last time he was given gadgets, he was on an airplane to Lima, Ohio. Not exactly the CIA headquarters. "Hello?" He called out, walking up to the counter.

A compartment quickly opened on the top of the tan counter, flipping over and revealing a metal slate with a few enticing gadgets laying on top. A tile in the ceiling hissed opened and a snakelike tube came down, inspecting their faces before quickly retreating back, as if it never came out of its hiding place. Kurt only managed a half glance at Blaine to see if he knew what was going on before the door behind the counter opened.

A man in a lab coat came out and stood at the counter, his hands behind his back and his brown eyes inspecting the two boys in front of him. "Well?" The man's voice was impatient. "What are you waiting for? Let's get started."

He seemed to be in quite a rush, something that Kurt couldn't explain. Maybe the man was annoyed that he had to deal with the two boys, disrupting his work. He looked towards the lab coat, trying to spot any identifying badge that could be clipped on the breast pocket, or even sewn in. But there was nothing.

"The Commander told you we were coming?" Blaine asked, stepping forward, trying to act as if he knew what he was doing.

It was cute.

The man nodded. "Of course. That and we saw." He said, looking down at the spread of gadgets in front of him. That must have been the cable that came from the ceiling. It must have held a video camera. "Now pay attention, as I'll say this only once. I have things to do and you have places to go so why should we drag out this meeting?"

The two boys stepped up to the counter and looked at the small spread in front of them.

"We have your basic laser, goes about 50 feet, lethal at short range but nothing more than that. The pen and pill container go hand in hand. The pen shoots out a hook and has an end that's connected to the pill container." When each device was mentioned, the boys were given their own to carry on them for the mission. "That will reel in the hook letting you scale buildings. It can self retract, however it does have w eight limit so Blaine, please don't try this little trick."

Kurt looked up and smirked at Blaine. It was clear why the man called him out specifically for his weight. Not that Blaine was fat, heavens no, but he was more muscular. Clearly while he was in training, he focused on body building while Kurt always focused on cardio.

"For communications this round we have a simple, vintage Nokia phone." The man turned them both over in his hands before giving them to the boys. Kurt inspected it briefly, the grey casing yielding no clues to what made it special. It wasn't even a flip phone. And by the looks of it- it wasn't a colour screen either- black text on a neon green backlit background.

Old school.

To his surprise, Blaine started laughing, looking at the phone. He looked over and stared at the muscular boy curiously. "So this way it won't cop out on us, right?"

His comment made Kurt smile. Everyone knew, even slightly socially inept people like Kurt, that Nokias were famous for being able to withstand a beating. According to internet-lore, only Chuck Norris could destroy a Nokia phone. "Well, yes, that's the idea." The man smirked, putting his hands into his lab coat pockets. "Except for if you dial 999 followed by the pound sign."

He looked up at the man. "What happens then?" He asked.

"It explodes." The man was oddly cheery for such a bleak concept. Maybe he was happy that they were nearly done and he could go back to his work. "Don't worry about pocket dialling- it has a dial lock set to a default 1-2-3-4. You can change it if you want, but I don't think anyone's going to try to swipe those phones."

The boys nodded and pocketed the various tools. Kurt had to admit that he was a bit disappointed leaving without any sort of blatant weapon. Even the laser wasn't lethal past a good five feet, from what the man said. It seemed less lightsaber and more lightsaber-butter-knife.

But it didn't matter, not really. It'd probably only serve the purpose of opening doors and cutting things. That was fine. Even if a pocket knife could have produced the same results.

They probably just wanted to show off.

"The Commander says you're due to be at the hanger in 5 minutes. I'd hurry if I were you." The two boys exchanged a look before glancing back towards the man. But he had vanished, along with the gadgets on the counter top. Probably back into the back room to work on more experiments.

Scientists were like that.

They left special weaponry and walked down the hall in silence. Kurt switched between looking at his feet and looking at anything but Blaine. He didn't know why he was avoiding the boy's eye, after all, they were about to have an amazing vacation together, even if it was technically work...

"I hope it's sunny." Blaine's voice interrupted Kurt's mundane thoughts.

He smiled at the other boy and nodded. "It's Florida. I'm sure the weather will be great. After all, it's getting tolerable up here. Imagine what down there must feel like." He said, a genuine smile starting to break though.

Maybe they could take off for a few hours and just relax on the beach when they first get there. Or maybe take an actual vacation once their job was done. After a long exhausting mission, a Florida vacation on the beach would be an ideal thing.

The thought of them both lying on the beach under the hot Floridian sunbeams caused a smile to form on Kurt's face. He grabbed Blaine's hand and started pulling him down the hall, a devilish hint appearing in his eyes. "Come on, I can't wait to get started."