Yeah, you know how you all wanted me to update quickly? About that…

I'm a bad person who went ahead and wrote a chapter that takes place… a lot later. Also, I went through and decided that more characters were going to live than I originally had planned!

Aren't I bleak and depressing tonight.

At least I was writing?

Anyways, who saw Sexy? I… think I liked it? Maybe? I don't know. I enjoyed parts of the Britanna (Naya Rivera and Chris Colfer need BFFL scenes now please—must not write one-shot instead of this story); I spent Animal with my face embedded in my Teddy Bear (oh, Kurt); the mirror scene may be my long lost sibling, because I love it madly and inexplicably ("Kurt, you're blushing," Blaine, you're flirting); Blaine and Burt was wonderful and Burt and Kurt is always wonderful; Puck was hilarious; I wanted to strangle Quinn and Finn; I swear the scarf Kurt was wearing in the first scene was Blaine's in BIOTA; Emma, you are married to John Stamos, how do you even remember Will's name when you look at that face? Will… That is all; I so called it with Blaine's Dad not liking his sexuality! Watch unsupportive Mr. Anderson play a part in this story and make sense! Yes; Holly, please stay on this show forever and continue delivering you're ridiculous one-liners, but get out of Will's love-life, because nobody wants to be in that awful excuse for… anything; SUE, WHAT WERE YOU DOING TO YOUR COFFEE?

I have no opinions. Really.

4 things immediately struck Blaine when he woke up on the floor of the Hudmmel's brig. The first was that, yes, his back did hurt again, and perhaps he should stop sleeping on floors. The second was that his guard (the tiny girl- Rachel?) was ignoring him and furiously polishing a rather garish gold pin with stars and horses on it. Her skirt was frighteningly short. Like, arrested for public indecency if they were back in England short. The third was a beautiful, high and clear voice floating down from up on deck which Blaine had to stop and take a moment to listen to.

He had sung with his music teacher back home and a little bit in school—nothing serious, but he liked to imagine he had a nice voice and his teacher certainly seemed to think so—but he hadn't really burst into spontaneous musical numbers since his third year at Dalton (and those had involved a lot of furniture climbing). It was nice to listen to and sort of carefree. The fourth thing-

"Oh, you're awake?"

"Squawk! You're awake!"

Blaine shot to his feet and spun around, taking in Rachel's appearance one more. Perched on the truly atrocious bag at her feet was a familiar bundle of bright yellow and evil.

"No." Blaine shook his head. "This is not happening. I refuse."

"No?" Rachel looked amused. "No, you're not awake, because you don't want to be?"

"Why?" Blaine asked ignoring her. He threw his hands back and tilted his head to the ceiling, barely registering that the singing had stopped. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Is something wrong, Blaine?"

Blaine turned his head to see Kurt at the top of the stairs, arms crossed and smirking. Puck and Finn were on either side of him and Puck nodded at him. "Anderson. Sleep well?"

Blaine ignored him too. "Kurt, I get it. Really, I do. I've been kidnapped. I don't get a choice in the matter, but why in God's name is the Demon Bird from Hell on this ship?"

"You mean, Pav?" Kurt looked surprised. "Is he really that awful? He followed us. He wouldn't leave me alone on watch this morning. I think he's cute."

"Squawk! Think he's cute!"

Blaine stared blankly at him. "Cute?"

"Yes."

There was a moment of silence, before Rachel spoke up. "Kurt, do you want to switch shifts with me? Because if nobody's on deck and your Dad comes up-"

"Sure." Kurt pushed past the others before she could finish her sentence and shooed her from her seat, sliding into it himself. "Puck, Finn, you should head back up to. We can't just have an empty deck and- Finn, weren't you steering?"

Finn paled and bolted upstairs, Puck chasing after him and laughing while Rachel followed, lecturing about the importance of "paying attention to the tasks Captain Hummel gives us, Finn. We're role models for many of the crew."

Kurt snorted and shifted his stool closer to Blaine's cell, leaning against the bars and turning his head to make eye contact. Pavarotti hopped up onto his knee. "Sleep well?"

"Do you get some bizarre pleasure out of my misery," Blaine asked, "or are you always this irritating?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Mhmm." Blaine leaned against the cell door lazily, gripping the bars with his hands. "I'm sure you don't." He paused glancing down at the bird. "How did you know his name?"

"Pav?" Kurt stroked the bird's beak absently. "He told me." He smiled brightly. "I think he likes me."

"Squawk! Pav likes!"

"I think I'm the only one he doesn't like," sighed Blaine. "His real name is Pavarotti."

"Pavarotti," Kurt repeated. He smiled down at the bird. "It suits him. It's so…"

"Irritating?"

Kurt laughed. "You should come up on deck."

Blaine stared at him. "Uh, Kurt? Have you ever had a prisoner before?"

"Yes," said Kurt with a role of his grey eyes and—hey, no. Weren't those blue last night? "They were all drooling Neanderthals with enough combined brain cells to fill an eggcup. Unless you're an incredibly talented actor I'm just going to assume you're smarter than that."

"Um…"

"Or maybe I wont." Kurt got to his feet (Pavarotti squawked indignantly and flew into Blaine's cell) and turned to head up the stairs.

"Hey, wait, where are you going?"

Kurt turned back to him. "I'm going to ask my Dad if I can bring you up on deck with me. I'm going to practice sword-fighting again and you're—at least being awful looks good on you?" He winced sympathetically. "You might as well get something out of this whole being kidnapped experience."

Before Blaine had time to mull over either of the prominent issues in that statement (the unsaid insult and Kurt's bizarre idea that there could be anything beneficial about pirates holding you for ransom) the boy had disappeared onto the deck and Blaine was left alone in his cell with Satan's Worst Punishment.

"Squawk!" Pavarotti landed on Blaine's shoulder and nipped at his ear. "Looks good."

"Shut up," muttered Blaine, shrugging his shoulder in an effort to rid himself of his feathery tormentor.

Pavarotti squawked again and tugged on a curl.

That afternoon, standing on deck with the crew, Blaine was beginning to think that maybe he was the one who didn't understand what being kidnapped meant. Captain Hummel had (for some reason unbeknownst to him) agreed to let Kurt teach the prisoner how to handle a sword properly and was now seated on a bench on deck next to his wife (Carole Hudson, Blaine had been informed. Kurt's step-mother) and watching in amusement as Kurt attempted to show Blaine how one held a sword without flailing around like "Rachel if somebody gagged her and took all of her animal prints."

Blaine had been introduced to the remaining crew of the Hudmmel. The first was Tina, the quiet Asian girl from yesterday, who apparently hadn't been able to take his sword-fighting seriously enough to fight him.

"It would've been like killing a puppy," she'd informed him. "A puppy with Kurt's pout. That's how pathetic you were. I just couldn't do it morally."

Blaine hadn't really known how to respond to that.

There was also Mike, (the other Asian, who hadn't really said anything) and Mercedes, who had loudly presented herself as Kurt's best friend and, "Hell to the no," was he ever going to be better than him with a sword.

"I'm awful at this," said Blaine as his sword (taken from the Warbler) went flying out his hand for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Yes," said Kurt matter-of-factly, his own sword still raised and pointed at Blaine's chest. "At least it's-"

"Endearing?" Blaine tried, offering a grin.

Kurt rolled his eyes, but smiled back. "That too."

Someone (Blaine thought it might be Puck) snorted as Kurt lowered his sword and picked up Blaine's. "Don't worry. Rachel was worse."

"I was not!" Rachel called from up in the crowsnest. "I was looking for a challenge, and I faced it with the strength and determination of any great swordsman."

"Please, stop talking," Kurt called back to her. "You're just embarrassing yourself."

"I accept you're challenge, Kurt Hummel!" Rachel began climbing down from the nest, her brown hair whipping everywhere.

Blaine blinked at her as she switched places with Tina and walked over to Kurt taking Blaine's sword out of his hand. "Wait, what challenge?" Kurt shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"This is a Diva-Off!" Rachel announced whipping around and flailing her sword dangerously. Blaine jumped back a few feet.

"Most of the Diva-Offs have singing," Finn put in helpfully, "but Rachel and Kurt like theirs sharper, and with more pointy things."

"Right," said Blaine. "Sure. That makes total sense."

"Dude, nothing on this ship makes sense," Puck snorted patting the space next to him on the steps. "Come here. Berry's about to get smeared on the deck."

"I am not!" Rachel cried indignantly as Blaine moved nervously over to Puck. "I am just giving this ship what it wants!"

"Blood?" asked Kurt, removing his navy-colored jacket and handing it delicately to Mercedes. "Be careful with that. It's French."

"Entertainment." Rachel whipped her sword towards Kurt. "Let's go, Hummel. I have scales to practice."

Kurt raised his eyebrows quizzically before lifting his sword and lunging at her. Rachel yelped like a frightened puppy and jumped out of the way, bringing her sword down sharply towards Kurt who twirled and parried.

Blaine stared at them with his mouth hanging open as they whirled around the deck in a blur of glinting, clashing sword and laughter. "And you just do this for fun?"

"Yeah," said Puck with a grin. He whooped appreciatively as Kurt swiped particularly fast, tearing a whole in Rachel's vest (embroidered with kittens. Oh my God). "Nice, Hummel!"

Up at the wheel Finn was cheering for Rachel while Pavarotti squawked appreciatively. Burt and Carole were watching silently, arms cross and amusement written on their faces. Mike had joined Tina in the crowsnest and the two of them were clapping and laughing. Mercedes was across the deck from Blaine and Puck cheering loudly for "her boy" to "tear her to ribbons."

"Seriously," said Blaine as Rachel managed to get a swipe in herself, cutting a slit in Kurt's puffy white sleeve and exposing his arm. "You just chase each other around with deadly weapons and hope nothing goes wrong?"

"Dude," said Puck, "we're pirates. It's badass."

Blaine opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped himself. "I'll just let it go, I guess."

"You learn fast, rich boy."

A pair of high-pitched screeches broke through their conversation as Kurt flung his sword aside and tackled Rachel to the ground, wrenching her own blade from her hand and holding it to her throat. "Ha!"

"But- Fine! I still won last time!"

"Whatever, Berry. I have to go fix this shirt."

"Could you stitch my vest too?"

"No, because one: you lost and it's hilarious and two: that vest is a crime against nature. I'm sorry you ever had to wear it."

"So, where are we going anyways?" Blaine asked as he and Kurt sat on the rails of the ship watching the sunset. "Like, where are we making Port?"

"Tortuga." Kurt looked over at Blaine and smiled conspirationally. "I'm sure you've heard of it. You're parents are absolutely terrified of the place."

"They've mentioned it," said Blaine, "but I never really knew why they hated it so much. Is their something particularly wrong with it?"

"Piracey," Kurt paused, "and prostitutes."

Blaine blinked at him. "For real?"

Kurt nodded. "The French sent more than a thousand over in the 40s. To help with morale or something like that."

"They imported-"

"I know." Kurt shook his head, "but we do need to head there anyways. We have to tell April how to get a hold of us for your ransom."

"Speaking of the ransom, you're really not very good at this kidnapping thing, you know?" Blaine grinned and nudged Kurt's shoulder. "So far, you've let me hang out on deck with you, allowed me to sit on a place where I could just dive off the ship-"

"To be eaten by sharks?"

"-and stop you from getting any money out of this," Blaine continued shaking his head. "You've actually fed me the same food that you eat, because you worried about my complexion-"

"Puck's idea of prisoner's food isn't dry bread and water," said Kurt flatly. "There's grease everywhere, and that is just awful for your skin. I wouldn't subject anyone to that." He paused. "Maybe Rachel, if we were arguing again."

"Instead of having another sword fight?"

Kurt smiled impishly. "Maybe I'll force her to eat it and then fight me. I'll have even more of an advantage."

Blaine snorted. "The way Tina tells it, you two are almost evenly matched. I saw that fight today, Kurt Hummel, and you were pretty close until the last part."

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt drawled, placing emphasis on the full name, "are you mocking me?"

"Well, somebody has to." Blaine grinned. "Another reason that you're awful at kidnapping, actually. We're sitting here acting like best friends. Shouldn't you have thrown me back in the brig by now and yelled at me for doubting your skills?"

"Maybe." Kurt shook his head and looked back out to the sky, where the last traces of orange hung low on the horizon. "Except that you're terrible, so you really can't judge me."

"I resent that."

"But you can't deny it?"

"Well, no, actually." Blaine blushed. "I never really learned how to fight. It was never going to be part of my job. Wes and David know how, because Mr. Hughes thought they would need to know how to defend themselves, but my Dad has never really…" Blaine trailed off. "He left for Port Edward when I was twelve, I think, and my mom just went over there last year, but he never really, you know, got a chance to give me any lessons." Blaine frowned. "My mom did get me a music tutor though."

"Music?" Kurt swung a leg over the rail off the ship, sitting so that he was fully facing Blaine now. "Which instruments did you play?"

"Piano," Blaine said with a light smile, "and a little bit of violin. It was mostly singing though."

"You sing?" Blaine wasn't quite sure how to decipher the look Kurt was giving him. There was a smile tugging at his lips and his green eyes (okay, seriously, those were grey earlier) were shining. "We do that a lot here."

"Yeah?" asked Blaine.

"There are a lot of impromptu musical numbers." Kurt nodded. "You know, to express our emotions. I made Finn and Puck help me carry a piano onto the ship after one of our raids. Its in Dad's cabin, nailed to the floor."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "Nailed to the floor?"

"So that it doesn't slide around when the ship rocks," Kurt explained. "People have been crushed that way before. Our Commodore uses it as a battle technique. She once took down an entire fleet with nothing but a harpsichord."

"She sounds frightening."

"She is. She refuses to acknowledge me as anything other than Porcelain."

Before Blaine could question that (because, wow, did that ever require questioning) Mercedes was coming up behind them and tapping Kurt on the shoulder. "Boy, you need to get him down to the brig. There's going to be another storm tonight."

Blaine paled. "Another storm?"

Mercedes nodded and pointed in towards the East. There were thick dark clouds rolling in that certainly hadn't been there that afternoon. Lightning crackled in the distance and thunder rumbled ominously. Blaine felt his stomach drop.

"The weather's been ridiculous lately," murmured Kurt. He delicately swung his other leg over the bar and hopped gracefully onto the deck, extending a hand to Blaine who took it and awkwardly pulled himself over, nearly falling into the ocean. "That can't be natural."

"What else would it be?" asked Blaine curiously.

Kurt shot Mercedes a significant look and she shook her head. "You're crazy, Kurt. It's just springtime. The storms are always a little psycho."

Kurt frowned, but didn't say anything else. Instead he turned to Blaine, whose hand he was still holding. "Are you okay? You look terrified."

"The last time I was in a storm the mast nearly crushed me. If David hadn't shoved me out of the way-" Blaine winced. "I'm not really big on lightning right now."

Kurt looked at him seriously for a moment, before exchanging another glance with Mercedes who raised an eyebrow at him. "Come on. I'm on guard again. Mercedes, get Puckerman out of the nest. If he gets struck by lightning we'll start running out of eye-candy."

Mercedes snorted and before Blaine could register the odd feeling settling in his stomach Kurt was tugging him towards the door that led down to the brig, before he shut it behind him he could hear Mercedes yelling at Puck, "Get down from there. Your boy is taking my shift and I need somebody to duet with!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE REPRISE, BECAUSE THIS WASN'T POSTED IN TIME:

So, Original Song, guys.

Ahem.

OMFGAOISBOBSOBASFUBSF!

Yes. Right.

I may or may not have watched all of the Klaine scenes over and over and over and Blaine's face during Blackbird... "Hold on a minute. It's like… it's like these things that I am feeling are- are romantic or something. Oh, wait a minute. They're always romantic. Oh my God… I'm in love with Kurt."

Oh, Blaine. So clueless.

AND THEN THEY KISSED. Also, the Warblers are like the Blaine Anderson Appreciation Society or something. I swear. XD

Also, how did ND win with those songs? I mean, I liked LLM, but GIR was just… not memorable. At all. In any way.

Ever.

Quote of the episode, "Is it a gay school, or just a school that appears gay?"

:D

Also, if that is how everyone in the fandom reacted to just a bird dying (Oh, Pavi) you're all going to hate me by the end of this story.

Advanced apologies.

Also (last time, I swear) Puck ships Klaine! Oh, Candles (I lovedlovedloved that performance), aside from you're irritating tendency to cut to Finchel-with-the-Quinn block you were filled with such awesome.