Anderson Residence, 90 West College Avenue, Westerville, OH 13:47:52
The Anderson residence was gorgeous and huge, which was exactly what Kurt had been expecting. The agency hadn't been able to get a full floor plan, because apparently the architect that designed it was dead and all the copies rested with Doctor Anderson, but they had given him an idea of what to expect. He was kind of knocked off his feet by the grandeur, however. He knew kids at Dalton were well off (it was a preparatory school), but this was... wow. Kurt could see almost two miles of well-decorated driveway, but he had to past the first test, which was the gates. Huge, wrought-iron, with a golden 'A', and four security guards. A quick check with Kurt's X-Ray sunglasses confirmed that they were all armed with at least two guns. Also, most of them preferred boxer-briefs. When had Agent Lopez turned off the parental control?

"You're welcome," Agent Puck said through his earpiece (which was now disguised as a headphone, thanks to Sam's ingenuity and apparent mechanical skills), and Kurt chuckled in response.

"You got a bag?"

"In the trunk," Kurt lied. His bag was tucked firmly under his seat, because he couldn't actually allow them to go through it. He had to rely on his instinct that these people were too lazy to actually bother checking the trunk.

"Nice wheels," another guard added, eying Kurt's rims.

"Thanks."

"You're free to go," the first guard said. Apparently, he had taken a good look at Kurt and decided he was fairly harmless. What an idiot.

It was about two and a half miles of extremely-well-decorated driveway, he re-evaluated by the time he reached the house. It was still light, only about two on Saturday afternoon, but Kurt had a feeling when the sun went down, the house would look absolutely haunting. It was old in a classy way, all stone and smooth-wood paneling. The outside look of the house contrasted wildly with the developing technology Kurt knew was inside.

The party was mostly out on the lawn, and it was covered in all sorts of tacky Halloween decorations, skeletons and pumpkins and fake graves galore. Not very many people were dressed in costumes, most preferring the black tie attire which Blaine had recommended to Kurt on Thursday. Kurt thankfully got the opportunity to park his car himself (although there was a very helpful, if very bored-looking valet waiting at the end of the driveway), and he stuffed his pockets and suit with all of his gadgets, placing the Bouncer on his phone and storing the Spidy Feet in the compartments of his specially designed shoes. Since spying in a tuxedo was not as easy as James Bond made it look, Kurt was wearing a black and gray stealth suit underneath his name-brand tux, and he also had on the bulletproof vest Agent Berry had insisted on. It was all rip-away clothing. He put on his watch and his sunglasses, storing his Spidy Gloves in his waistband. He made sure to grab the present the agency had insisted he give Blaine. This was going to be an interesting party.

Blaine's house was right on the waterfront. Kurt had absolutely no idea what waterfront it was, but either way it gave the house extra elegance. No one was on the beach, presumably because the water was cold, but the scenery was beautiful.

Kurt began scanning for Blaine, also keeping an eye out for Dustin Goolsby, who was almost guaranteed to be at the party. Sue Sylvester would be the less conspicuous one, as she had no need to enter through the party area, but Dustin Goolsby still thought the FBI was on their tail.

Kurt, a highly-trained field agent, burst out laughing when he saw Blaine. Although he had suggested black tie to almost everyone he had invited, Blaine was wearing a costume, and seemed to be attempting a Marlon Brando look. It fit with the amount of gel he wore on a regular basis, but the leather jacket was just all wrong.

"Laugh it up, Hummel, but I look good," Blaine said with a grin, doing a little twirl to show off his outfit.

"No, I look good," Kurt argued, smiling in return. He was wearing black-tie, as Blaine had suggested, and since the government had dressed him, his tuxedo was custom-designed and perfectly fitted.

"You do," Blaine agreed, and Kurt tried hard not to blush when Blaine gave him the up-and-down. His expression suggested he approved. "You look like you're here to pick me up for prom." If only.

"Isn't this what you meant by black tie?" Kurt asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of how dressed up he was.

"Most people just wear suits, but..." Blaine shrugged. "You look like James Bond." Even though it was eerily similar to what Kurt had thought to himself earlier, it still kind of made him nervous. Plus, there was definitely a possibility that his cover was blown, but it was a risk everyone had to take at this point.

"Which one?" he asked, trying to swallow the sudden lump in his throat.

"George Lazenby with the hair, and Timothy Dalton with the eyes," Blaine replied, and suddenly he was looking directly into Kurt's eyes, and he was very, very close.

"I... I brought you something."

"This is a Halloween party," Blaine replied, his lips twitching.

"Really?" Blaine looked at him in surprise. "I thought you just dressed like that in your spare time." Blaine cracked up laughing.

"Well, if I'm secretly Marlon Brando and you're secretly James Bond, there's really nothing we can't do." Blaine was eyeing the box in Kurt's hand nonetheless, so Kurt handed it to him, and Blaine ripped open the blue paper on the box eagerly. "You really are weird. Jonathan Keates?" Blaine asked in surprise as he pulled out 'Soon to Be a Major Motion Picture.' "How did you know?"

"He's one of my favorite authors," Kurt lied, hoping he wasn't about to be quizzed on the man, because he knew absolutely nothing about Keates. Or much about Keats, for that matter.

"Mine too," Blaine said with a warm smile, pulling out the box within the box, a think, black jewelry case. "Jewelry?"

"I think you'll like it," Kurt said honestly, because it had been hand-picked by Wes, who was apparently one of Blaine's best friends, and a very good Junior Snitch.

"I... wow," Blaine said. The box held a necklace which was a simple guitar pick on a silver chain. The guitar pick was something special. Wes had explained to him that Blaine, while not a big rock fan, secretly loved Pink Floyd. The pick was black, with a silver mark of the band's name on it, and was apparently a collectable. "This is awesome! Where did you get it?"

"Flee market," Kurt said, lying through his teeth again.

"Cool." Of course, the guitar pick had it's other uses, including the fact that within the space of the 'D' in Pink Floyd, there was a small chip that could be used to locate Blaine at any time. Blaine was doing his best to clip it around his neck, but didn't seem to be having much luck doing so blind.

"Here, let me." Okay, this was a bad idea, Kurt mused as Blaine turned around, and not just because Blaine had a rather nice butt. Blaine drew in a sharp breath when Kurt's fingers brushed the back of his neck, and they were both completely still for a moment after Kurt had clipped it, until Blaine turned back around.

"I think this just completes the look," Blaine commented, looking down. "Though Pink Floyd was technically futuristic to Marlon Brando."

"Semantics."

Anderson Residence, 90 West College Avenue, Westerville, OH 14:28:33
Blaine was an excellent party host, Kurt had decided as he sat on the beach observing his charge. Blaine was nice to everyone, even people he didn't appear to know, and he kept hopping into various dying conversations in order to keep them alive. He was funny, charming, charismatic, and definitely seemed enjoyable to be around. If only he wasn't Kurt's assignment, he would definitely be meeting Burt Hummel very shortly.

"You look bored," Wes said with a sigh as he sat down next to Kurt in a lawn chair. David seemed just as at home at Blaine's house as Blaine was, and he was fetching drinks and playing games and acting like it was his party rather than the Anderson's.

"I'm not. I'm... absorbed." Kurt was choosing his words carefully around the Snitch he didn't really know.

"So the agency decided not to comment?" Wes asked, taking a sip of what looked and smelled like beer. Technically, Wes was underage, and shouldn't be drinking on assignment, but Kurt let it slide. Wes didn't have much to do tonight that he needed quick wits for. He just had to keep up his everyday charade.

"I think the Director sympathized," Kurt replied, and Wes nodded.

"He's had his own share of romance issues in the past few months. Apparently he doesn't want to be the cause of anyone else's." That made Kurt curious.

"Do you know what went on between Agents Puckerman and Lopez?" Kurt asked, and some of Wes' beer came out his nose he started laughing so quickly.

"Dear God, you really are new. Everyone knows that Puck and Santana have been so weirdly on-again-off-again for... it has to be ten years at this point. It's a 'will they? won't they?' situation right off a sit-com, and the director took Puck off the field in an attempt to separate them. It didn't actually work when Puck proved to be adaptable, and now they're back on the same team." Kurt stared at him in confusion. "Yours," Wes explained with a roll of his eyes.

"Right." Kurt's mobile command center beeped. He pressed the side button to view the message, but all he saw was a GPS map of the Anderson residence. "What the..." Then he saw it. Blaine's name was on there, beeping steadily about twenty feet from Kurt. Kurt took a quick look up to confirm that Blaine was still within sight, running the roulette table, and then looked back. Two new dots were on his map, marked SS and DG. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know what was going on. Stheno had arrived at the party. "I have to go to Blaine," he said, not bothering to explain what was going on to Wes. He was a Snitch, he didn't really need to know.

"Hey," Blaine said brightly as Kurt approached him at the roulette table. "Want to play a few numbers?" he asked, offering Kurt some chips.

"I'm good," Kurt replied, quickly scanning the area and taking some time to observe the scenery for exit routes. There was an wide, intricate path mostly composed of white rose petals leading from the edge of the beach into the house, but most of the party guests were clustered around the edges at various casino games or childish activities. Many of the upper-class guests of Blaine's father were in the ball room, which Kurt had yet to visit because Blaine was on the opposite side of the party. Sue Sylvester was in there, probably socializing and picking out new targets for corporate takeovers. Dustin Goolsby was on the other side of the path, talking to the very few adults that were outside. It was mostly Dalton boys who were there for Blaine and high-class children that had been dragged along by their parents. There was next-to-no cover, the ground was flat and open, and they were far from Blaine's house. Awesome. Very defensible. "Your house is beautiful."

"Do you want a tour?" Blaine asked, and it seemed like an opportunity to be seized. "Technically party guests aren't supposed to be inside the house except for the ballroom, but I seriously doubt you're going to rob me or be looking for my father's secrets." Blaine grinned at him, and Kurt returned the smile, but oh how wrong Blaine was.

"I would love one." Kurt took Blaine's hand, trying to see it as a strategic move rather than an action that made his heart beat quicken. If Stheno even knew about Blaine's preferences, which was a big if, they would make the assumption no agent would be stupid enough to get romantically involved with a target with homophobic parents. If Stheno didn't know, they would focus more on the 'what' than the 'who.' It made perfect sense, in theory.

Blaine clearly approved, tightening his grip on Kurt's hand as he led him towards the house. They stayed off the beaten path, for which Kurt was thankful, weaving through the masses of high school boys and staying mostly out of Dustin Goolsby's line of sight. Kurt, following Blaine and thus invisible to him, had pulled out his mobile command center and was keeping a careful eye on both of the Stheno executives. Sue Sylvester had been wandering around in the ballroom to socialize, but Dustin Goolsby had stayed put. Maybe he was waiting for something, especially since he was so close to the driveway. A delivery, perhaps? Kurt made a mental note.

Kurt caught his first glimpse of Sue Sylvester as he walked into the ballroom of Blaine's house, and he was more than ready to admit that she was terrifying. Her expression was cold, the lines on her face harsh, as if they had been chiseled by a shaky hand into stone. She was Medusa's victim, not her sister. She was across the room, and as someone who was clearly a professional, she didn't even blink as Blaine and Kurt walked into the room, but Kurt noticed her earpiece. She had to know they were there. She didn't look over though, so Kurt was in the clear as much as possible.

"Where do you want to start?" Blaine asked, and they were kind of in the middle of the ballroom.

"I don't care," Kurt answered, because he knew there was no way that Blaine would show him his father's labs, and he was only accepting the tour to learn escape routes and keep Blaine away from the Stheno executives as much as possible. A quick look around confirmed that Sue Sylvester still wasn't looking their way, but Dustin Goolsby was visible from the doorway. He was coming into the ballroom. "Let's go in here," Kurt said, picking a random door, hauling it open and dragging Blaine in before he looked to see what the room was.

"This is a closet," Blaine objected as Kurt closed the door behind them. Kurt's eyes adjusted quickly from the bright lights of the ballroom (which was absolutely stunning, with perfectly waxed wooden floors, a grand piano in the corner, high ceilings with dangling crystal chandeliers, and walls with pillars carefully carved. It was the picture of wealth and elegance) to the dull light from the tiny window in the closet. There was that, plus the fact that the closet was small and cramped, Blaine and Kurt pushed together by the shelves on the wall.

"Whoops," Kurt said, clearly having chosen the wrong door, but too relieved that they had gotten out of the ballroom before Dustin Goolsby had entered to really care that they were now in a rather... awkward position. A quick look at his phone showed Dustin Goolsby still in the ballroom. Fuck. Improvisation time. "Anyway to get into the house from here?"

"No... unless you want to go through the air duct system?" Blaine asked, and Kurt was about ninety percent sure he was kidding. However, the fact that there was an air duct system was useful knowledge. He was really tempted to take Blaine up on that offer, but they would eventually have to go outside and face the Stheno executives. One other option then.

"You really shouldn't wear that much gel," Kurt said, pretending that he was wiping away the thick coat of gel, while really mussing Blaine's hair and trying to ignore the gunk his hand was now covered in. "Your hair must get really dry."

"You have no idea what my hair looks like without it," Blaine said with a laugh, but he obviously hadn't figured out what Kurt was doing.

"Fair enough," Kurt said once Blaine's hair looked reasonably messy, wiping off the gel very obviously on his pants. "Come on, we should go outside. After you," he said, holding the door for Blaine. As Blaine left, Kurt loosened his tie, bit his lips, and mussed up his own hair.

When they walked out of the closet, they were probably the perfect picture of debauchery, and while Dustin Goolsby's eyes snapped right to Blaine, they skated right over Kurt. Perfect. "Let's go upstairs," Blaine said, which were unintentionally (on his part) the perfect words to go with the picture Kurt had painted.

"I think you should lead the way this time," Kurt said, making Blaine laugh.

Anderson Residence, 90 West College Avenue, Westerville, OH 14:46:53
"How is your house even more stunning inside?" Kurt asked as Blaine led him out of the ballroom and into what was clearly a formal dining room. It looked very similar to the ballroom, but it was smaller, with only one chandelier, and the room was dominated by a gigantic, dark wood table surrounded by chairs that matched in elegance and looked horribly uncomfortable.

"Westerville is full of old, expensive, ornately decorated mansions," Blaine said with a shrug. "Whatever it is that my father actually does to earn money with science, he obviously makes a lot of it. We were actually pretty poor when I was young." Well, that was helpful. How long had Dr. Anderson been partnered with Stheno?

"When did that change?" Kurt asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"About two years ago," Blaine answered. "I used to go to public high school, but the money... made things easier." Blaine didn't elaborate, and Kurt didn't ask. "This house is really a little bit too big, though."

"What do you mean?" Kurt had to ask. He was just too curious.

"My father spends most of his time in the laboratory, my brother lives in California, and my mother... well, I don't wanna talk about her." Kurt could definitely understand that. "This house is just a little big for me, considering I'm the only person who ever spends any real time in it." Blaine hadn't reached to talk Kurt's hand when they walked into the house; Kurt was the one who reached for him this time. It looked like he needed the comfort.

"I was wondering how much of this house you actually use," Kurt said, fishing for information again.

"A lot of the house is empty." Blaine hadn't let go of Kurt's hand, but he was leading Kurt out of the dining room. "Most of the east wing is, except that's where the stairs to my father's laboratory are. He spends most of his time down there, so much so that he moved a bed into the basement. The west wing is where my room is, my brother's well-preserved room, and my mother's quarters." Again, Blaine didn't elaborate.

"So are you taking me through the west wing, or..." Kurt was hoping that Blaine would take him through the empty wing, but if the house was symmetrical enough, the tour would help him anyway. Otherwise he probably wouldn't be able to get out... or in, for that matter. He would have to scout the outside of the house if he got a chance.

"Probably the east wing," Blaine said, and Kurt resisted the urge to do a little victory dance. "All the servants are in the west wing, and they'll report to my father if I have someone up there. Plus, bringing you to my room would be a little... inappropriate."

"What a gentleman," Kurt teased.

"Oh shut up." They had been talking in a ridiculously ostentatious foyer, but Blaine led Kurt up a set of stairs curling to the right, clearly leading to the east wing.

Anderson Residence, 90 West College Avenue, Westerville, OH 15:23:49
Blaine had taken Kurt all throughout the empty side of his house, making small talk as Kurt did his best to make a mental floor plan. Blaine even showed Kurt the stairway to the laboratory, pointing out all of his father's security measures (that he knew of), and he really was way too trusting. The trick to getting into the basement was that the stairs actually descended two flights, there being no entrance on the first floor. Someone would have to climb up the side of the house to get into the basement. It was rather ingenious, and very helpful for Blaine to point this out to him.

Most of the empty rooms were clearly intended to be bedrooms, and most of them had four-poster beds in them that were covered in a thin layer of dust. Every single one of them was unique and beautiful, and Blaine revealed that the house was in fact symmetric, pointing out the room that mirrored his.

"The only other thing to see is the ballroom, but there are too many stuffy people in there for you to truly appreciate the room," Blaine teased, and Kurt had a feeling that his outfit was very much commentary on what he thought of these parties. He didn't seem to appreciate all of the high-class people that he was associated with through his father's wealth. "Wanna go down by the beach? It's a little cool, but it's nice and quiet."

"Sounds great," Kurt said. They had circled through the east wing and ended up back in the foyer.

Blaine took Kurt's hand again (he seemed to love doing that), and he led Kurt out through the wide, intimidating front doors. Since Blaine seemed to be doing his best to make Kurt's life easy, he led Kurt around the east side of the house, allowing Kurt to surreptitiously check out the siding and figure out exactly how he could get into the basement. By the time they had rounded the back of the house and the party was in view, Kurt was pretty sure he had a game plan for later. However, getting into the basement was of no use to him until Sue Sylvester abandoned socializing and headed down to talk to Dr. Anderson. Hopefully, that would be a little longer, or else he would have to make some hurried excuse as to why he had to decline Blaine's invitation and stick Blaine with Wes (who, he had learned a few days ago, would be important to the plan later. Somehow).

Kurt and Blaine stayed pretty far away from the party as Blaine led Kurt down to the water. A quick look at his mobile command center confirmed that Sue Sylvester was near the doors of the ballroom, apparently consulting with her hit man. "Careful," Blaine said softly, and Kurt released they were descending on a rocky path from the green area to the beach. Kurt followed, not wearing the appropriate footwear at all, but managing on the slippery rocks. "Sorry," Blaine said as they reached the beach and Kurt pretty much gave up on keeping his shoes in tact. Besides, they were technically the government's. "People don't come down here very often."

"Then why is there a blanket and food?" Kurt asked, eying the picnic supplies on the beach.

"Well..."

"Did you plan this?" Kurt was trying to sound accusatory, but he was too flattered.

"Yeah. I was just hoping we could get some time alone," Blaine said, and he was the cutest thing in the world. He really was. "Shall we sit?"

This was a bad idea. This was an absolutely horrible idea. "Absolutely," Kurt said, returning Blaine's tentative smile. A lake side (and he was forced to assume the water was some sort of lake) picnic was very romantic, and the perfect place for Dr. Anderson's son to spill secrets. At least, that's how he would sell this to the agency later if necessary.

"Kurt, I know you're not... that you clearly don't think of me like... don't think about me the way I think about you, but I really like you, regardless of how weird you can be sometimes," Blaine said with a rather sincere smile that proved he was clearly trying to lighten the atmosphere, "and if there's any chance that you feel the same way-"

"Blaine, you don't understand," Kurt interrupted. Crap, this is not where he was hoping the conversation would go. Blaine was being much more direct that he had planned on. "It's not that I don't like you, that I'm not... attracted to you, it's just-"

"Just what, Kurt?" Blaine asked, earnest and nervous and completely adorable. "I don't understand. If you think that it's too soon, that we don't know each other well enough, just... come out to dinner with me. We'll get to know each other."

"Blaine-" Blaine cut him off in what was simultaneously the best and worst way of all time, kissing him quiet. Kurt did his best not to melt into Blaine's embrace, but God, Blaine was a good kisser, and Kurt couldn't deny how much he liked his assignment. There was still a microphone on him, but he didn't even care. Blaine was cupping his face with his hands, kissing him softly, sweetly, not pushing to make the kiss deeper. Kurt could have kissed him forever... if it wasn't for the need to breathe.

Blaine broke away first, resting his forehead against Kurt's and staring deep into his eyes. "Kurt..."

Kurt's mobile command center beeped urgently. A quick look down (without moving his head) revealed that Sylvester and Goolsby were on the move. "I have to go," Kurt said suddenly, standing up and wishing that this had happened at a better moment. "I'm sorry, Blaine."

"Kurt, wait." He couldn't, but oh, how he wanted to. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have done that, it was too pushy, but I just-"

"Blaine, I have to go," Kurt said again, practically running up the rocky embankment towards the house. While Blaine was definitely important to him, finding out what was going on in Dr. Anderson's laboratory with Stheno was important to the country. "Ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country," Kurt muttered to himself, a little bit bitterly, texting Wes as he walked across the lawn to find Blaine on the beach.

Hopefully Blaine could forgive him.

A/N: It's been over a week since I was supposed to post this and I'm sorry. It wasn't that the chapter wasn't written, and it wasn't that I didn't have access to a computer. If I had posted on Saturday, July 13 (because I did forget about it on Friday, my birthday), I would have had to say something that at the time I didn't know how to articulate. I still don't.

The entire Glee world, not only the fans, but also the actors and producers and writers, suffered a terrible loss on that July 13, 2013. Cory Monteith was well-loved, and he will always be missed. My deepest condolences go out to Lea, to his castmates and coworkers, family and friends.

R.I.P Cory Monteith
1982-2013