Chapter Nine

All things considered – namely that Finn was turning into Einstein so quickly that Kurt half expected him to sprout crazy white hair – it had been a pretty normal day for Kurt. His classes had been uneventful, lunchtime with his entourage had been filled with gossip, and during Glee he and Rachel had gotten into a rather loud spat about who got to sing the lead in Boogie Wonderland.

He supposed the normalcy could last for only so long, though.

As he shut off the engine of his Navigator and walked inside, exhausted after an extended Cheerios practice, he entered the living room to find Finn hunched over a notebook on the coffee table, scribbling away amidst leaves of paper that had been covered with diagrams, notes and equations. And sitting across the coffee table, scrutinizing a second notebook and a science textbook simultaneously, was Artie.

"See, the problem is to get the strength of the magnets right," Finn was saying to the wheelchair-bound boy. "You get it too strong and the guy can't lift his leg and you might muck up the guy's body by pulling on all the iron. Probably kill him in a day or two. But if you get it too weak, then he'd have bone deterioration and they'd have to have a cycling machine or something to keep his legs healthy."

"Well, they already have that," Artie stated.

"Exactly," Finn said. "So, get it too strong and you might kill the guy, but get it too weak and there's no point in using it." He sighed, chewing on the end of his pencil. "Damn, I wish we could get our hands on the blueprints of an actual shuttle."

"Hey, Kurt," Artie said, looking up with a smile.

Finn turned around to see his stepbrother standing in the doorway, staring at them with his jaw hanging open. "Hey, man, what's up?"

"What are you working on?"

"Oh, we're developing some ideas for artificial gravity," Artie piped up.

Kurt blinked once, very slowly. "I'm…going to go change," he said, turning and striding quickly out of the room.

"What's his problem?" Artie said.

Finn shrugged. "He's been a little weirded out by me lately. Guess most of you guys have."

"What do you mean?"

"You know…me dancing, getting things, understanding them…" Finn said, a little awkwardly. "Rachel almost flipped a shit when I corrected some metaphor she used yesterday."

Artie laughed. "What I would have given to see that. Well, the dancing was a little freaky, I'll give you that, but I don't get why someone being smart is such a big deal."

Finn gave him the Hudson Goofy Grin®. "Thanks, man."

"Do you know why it's happening, though?" Artie asked.

Finn probably would have bristled at the question, but Artie hadn't said it in a who-are-you-and-what-did-you-do-with-Finn way. It was just simple curiosity rather than concern. Finn shook his head. "No, no idea. I've been in and out of the doctors' offices, though, and they're doing all sorts of tests and stuff, but none of them know anything either. Apparently I've got an IQ of like, two hundred or something."

Artie coughed. "Two hundred?" he cried. "Are you serious?"

"You are not allowed to tell anyone I said that."

"Then…why did you say it?" Artie asked, frowning.

Finn sighed, dropping the notebook onto the table and sinking back into the couch cushions. "I dunno, man. I guess I just wanted to be able to tell someone who isn't Kurt or my mom."

"And…Puck—?

Finn shrugged. "He's been giving me the same weird looks everyone else has. He won't say so, but he's pretty freaked out."

"Oh." Artie paused, evaluating Finn's stressed expression. Finally, he spoke again. "Well, I have an extra pair of glasses in my bag if you need them."

Finn frowned. "What? Why would I need those?"

Artie shrugged. "I just figured that since you're the smartest guy in school, you might want to complete the nerd image."

"…You have a really weird sense of humor, you know that?"

"I've been told once or twice, yeah," Artie admitted, grinning from ear to ear. "You want 'em?"

Finn laughed. "I'm not a nerd, man."

"No, of course you're not. All the McKinley jocks spend their free time analyzing magnetic responses to develop artificial gravity. You know, Dave Karofsky's also got three terrariums in his basement."

"Shut up and help me figure this out, will you?"

"FINN CHARLES JAMES HUDSON! YOU GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE IN FIVE SECONDS OR SO HELP ME I WILL BREAK EVERY VAN MORRISSON CD YOU OWN IN HALF!"

"Jesus Christ, Kurt," Finn said as he walked into the garage. Kurt looked like he'd blown a fuse. "What?"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY BABY?" Kurt screeched, an arm flailing towards where his Navigator sat in the back of the shop, its hood open and several tubes running into the engine.

"Volume, man," Finn begged with a wince. "I'm in the room; I can hear you."

"ANSWER THE GODDAMN QUESTION!"

"All right! All right! Jeez," Finn said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "Relax. I'm fixing your mileage."

"My what!"

"Look, c'mere," Finn said, striding over to Kurt's baby. "See these tubes? They're attached to this pump over here, and it's running a cleaning fluid through your engine. Once it's done, I'll take the engine apart, replace a few bits and pieces here and there, reroute the exhaust and gas lines, and you'll get maybe ninety miles to the gallon 'stead of the thirty you get now."

Kurt stared at him, agape. "And what the hell made you think you could experiment on my car?"

"Burt said I could!" Finn defended himself.

Kurt threw up his hands and turned around, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying very hard not to grab Finn by the lapels and shake him until his IQ dropped back to 109. Then the garage door opened and Burt entered, carrying a box of donuts under one arm and whistling.

"You!" Kurt bellowed in a surprisingly deep register. Burt froze like a deer in headlights. "You let Finn experiment on my car!"

"He's not experimenting," Burt said slowly. As the only man in the room who was fully used to Kurt's periodic bitch-fits, he knew it was his job to maintain the calm as much as he could. "He did the same thing for that Puckerman kid's truck yesterday. It works."

Kurt whipped back to see Finn smirking slightly. "You're ganging up on me. I hate you both."

"Aw, come on, Kurt," Finn said, still smirking. "Think about it – if you get ninety miles to the gallon, then you'll have more money for clothes."

Kurt's fingers curled. "You so owe me a shopping trip."

"Huh?"

"Your fixation with plaid has got to go."

Finn suddenly looked scared. Burt grinned to himself and slipped into the office unnoticed – he'd leave the boys to gripe it out amongst themselves. "Dude, you mean you want—?"

"To give you a makeover, yes."

"No. No frikkin' way."

Now it was Kurt's turn to smirk. "You're a smart guy, Finn. Your wardrobe should match. And trust me, right now, it doesn't."

"Get away from me!"

"Come on, Finn, denim jackets are so last century."

Finn made a break for it, dashing back into the house. Kurt bounded after him, shouting about how fantastic he'd look in a Valentino tux. Kurt found that Finn was not in the kitchen and, determined to corner his gargantuan stepbrother and torture him with promises of fashion and flair, went on the hunt for him, calling taunts of the Marc Jacobs and Gabbana variety throughout the house.

He found Finn in the upstairs hallway, bent over with one hand braced against the wall, and rushed to his side. "Finn. Finn, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Finn said, his voice strained and his eyes squeezed shut. "Just don't…don't feel good."

"Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah – well, no… It's just…I feel really dizzy."

A/N: Whee! That one was fun to write! I love writing devious!Kurt. Now, quick message: I just got an order for a bunch of scarves that need to be made, which means that I'm probably gonna be working on my loom full-time for the next day or two. So, don't worry if the updates suddenly stop for a bit - I'm just working, and I'll be back VERY soon. That being said, leave a review!