#seeing the reflection of saga with her fbi jacket

[pinkomcranger]

@iloveyoudie WHEN I TELL YOU I'M STILL WAITING FOR THE FIC TDFFXFFGHHX KILLING ME EEEE

A crown befitting the Grandmaster.

Thank you to @redactedshapes for bringing my vision of Grandmaster Saga to life!! RIP Alan this was your fault.

[fieryghxul]

Margaritas, reunions and confessions. [a.h.]

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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warning(s): fem!reader – dom!hotch (well i tried) – last season’s spoilers – drinking – cursing – smut��–  unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it tho) – oral sex (fem receiving) – slight chocking – a bit fluff at the end.

A/N: hello everyone! this is super random but i came up with this in the middle of the night and i couldn't shake the idea out of my head. i am not a writer and english is not my first language so if there’s any mistake, i apologize in advance. also, this is my first hotch smut so i hope it’s good. enjoy!

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[March 14th, 2020. 8:30 pm.]

“I have to go but promise me that you’re going to stop thinking about work and that you’re going to have fun these days.” You heard the pleading voice of Penelope Garcia on the phone as you walked out of the bathroom.

“I promise. I love you and I’ll see you when I get back.” You smiled and you knew that she was smiling too.

“It’s a date, angel. Love you more.” And with that, the line went silent.

You put your cell phone aside and took a look at the open suitcases on the bed. You didn't have anything planned but you knew you have to go out to clear your head and relax, things at work have been very stressful lately so when Prentiss told the team about taking some vacation time, you didn't hesitate to get a ticket and get on the first plane you found.

And that's why you were currently in a hotel room in Santorini, Greece. Yes, it seems like a lot, but nothing you can't afford.

A few minutes later, you finished applying some mascara and lip gloss, and took a few steps back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The navy-blue self-tie slit dress hugged every curve of your body perfectly; you paired it with a pair of black heels and a black jacket, just in case it gets cold at night. After taking one last look and smiling slightly at the reflection, you turned to grab your bag and left the room, hoping to have a good night once you were out of the hotel.

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People flooded the streets and it was understandable, the night was really beautiful, there was a light breeze and the full moon was perfectly reflected in the sea. You have been walking for almost 2 hours, taking photos of almost everything and enjoying the night until you came across a bar, the word "cocktail" in the name of the place definitely caught your attention so you didn't think twice before walking into the place.

You walked to the bar and waited for the bartender to come up to you. While you were waiting, you could feel the back of your neck burning, someone was watching you but you didn’t want to deal with anyone yet, so you just ignored it, concentrating on reading the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order.

“Good evening, ma'am. Are you ready to order?” You look up from the menu, a brunette in her 20s is at the other side of the bar was smiling at you.

“Uh, yes, a margarita would be fine.” You ordered, mirroring her smile, and the girl gave you a little nod before walking away.

In the meantime you took your phone out of your bag and opened the ‘bau ladies’ group chat to send one or two of the photos you took a few hours ago with a “next time, i’m bringing all of your cute asses with me.” below them.

JJ was the first to reply, “oh my god, it’s gorgeous!”

Followed by Emily’s “look at that and some of us are still doing paperwork :( get drunk on my behalf please.”

You chuckled under your breath at her text and the margarita arrives just in time, “i’m on it, boss ;) isn't it a little late to be doing paperwork?"

Penelope replies next, “paperwork hahaha what a weird way to spell tara’s name“ and two “PENELOPE!” appear automatically in chat.

“you two are so obvious and spencer owns me 20 now.” You hit the send button before graving the margarita, taking a few sips of it. It takes about 3 minutes for your phone to vibrate again and you were about to answered but you are interrupted by the bartender.

“From the man at that table, ma'am.” She says placing another margarita in front of you and discreetly pointing at one of the tables that were on the patio of the place, you turned around but the only thing you see from the bar is his back. “Don’t worry; it doesn’t have anything weird on it.”

“Thank you...” The bartender walks away again and you stare at the drink, debating for a moment about whether or not to go and face the mysterious man. Fuck it. You decided before putting you phone back in your bag, forgetting about the messages and graving that and the drink before making your way to the table.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat once you reached said table, "can I seat here or are you waiting for someone?"

“Please.” He murmur in a low voice while gesturing toward the empty chair, indicating that you can sit down and a strange feeling of familiarity floods your body at that gesture. You shock your head trying to ignore that before placing your bag aside and sitting down in front of the man.

“I just wanted to thank you for the—“

The words got stuck on your throat and the world seemed to have stopped when you finally laid your eyes on the suited man that you thought you'd never see again.

Holy shit.

You stood still, a part of you fearing that if you moved he might disappear. Your face probably showing clear signs of confusion and shock as Aaron Hotchner sit right there in front of you.

He still looked serious and intimidating, his gaze reimaging cold to those who didn't know him and you remember all of those times you teased him about being a robot, there were times when you actually managed to make him laugh.

Yet at the same time there was something different about him. There was a different glow around him, he seems more relaxed and you could see it in his expressions, even in his posture.

“Hello, Y/N.” Hotchner said, voice still low but strong enough to bring you back to the present.

“Hey.” You said, still processing the fact that he was here with you and in the most unexpected place. “I, uh, it’s been a long time.”

“Almost 3 years.” He said before taking a sip of the glass that rested on his hand, you assumed that it was scotch.

3 years in 6 months, 13 days, 1 hour and 65 seconds. Give it or take.

“Almost, yeah… so what are you doing here?” You asked, “I mean, you were more a city type of guy.”

“I still am, Y/N, but Jack and Jessica insisted on me going on a little vacation because apparently it’s been a while since I had some ‘me-time’.”

Your face light up a bit at the mention of the kid, Hotch noticed it. “How’s Jack? I can barely remember when the last time I saw him was was but he must be so big now.”

“He’s 14 and almost as tall as me.” A smile appeared on Hotch's face, he didn't used to smile a lot and you thought it was a bit normal considering the work that you two shared, but those times that he did you used to felt butterflies in your stomach. Still do apparently. “What about you? What are you doing here? I mean, you were more a city type of girl.”

You chuckled softly when you heard him repeating your words and you shrugged slightly, “I'm having some vacation time, it's rare to have free time at the BAU, you know? So when you do, you take it without thinking twice.”

“How’s the team doing?”

“Good. We're working on some things, going through a few changes, the usual I guess.” This time it was you who drank, taking a long sip of the margarita that was still in your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you want to hear me talk about it?”

“Of course, unless, do you have somewhere else to be, Y/N?”

“Not anymore. We might need a few more of this though.” You pointed to the drinks on the table and flashing him a smile, catching a glimpse of his before calling the bartender and ordering another round of drinks.

And then you started talking, Hotch listening carefully to every word that came out of your mouth. You started with the cult that kidnapped Spencer and Garcia and then launching into the saga of the Everett Lynch a.k.a "The Chameleon", you mentioned how Emily is now shortlisted to be the next FBI director and how she would name JJ as the next unit chief of BAU unit, but that remains to be seen; you also talked about Garcia leaving the team to work in Silicon Valley and Hotch noticed the sad tone in your voice when you mentioned that but in part he was happy that everyone was moving forward with their lives, making new decisions and following different paths. You continued with Spencer being a consultant and teaching at the same time and finished with Rossi getting married again then talking about retirement but not fully doing it.

“That’s because Rossi’s never going to retired.” You and Hotch said in unison, laughing after noticing that.

“A lot of things had happened then.” He said, not very surprise and titling his head to one side, you nodded mutely. “But you forgot of someone, Y/N.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you. What about you? How are you?” He asked, his tone of voice changing to a concerned one.

“Oh… I, uh, I’m good.” You began but more hesitant this time, “I will never get used to the changes but its part of life so I just have to suck it up and live with it. I don’t have an outer motive yet so I'm not leaving the BAU, that's for sure. I always knew that that's where I belong and I can’t even bring myself to think about other options.”

“You have always been an important asset to the team, Y/N. The BAU is still lucky to have you.” Hotch said, still sounded like the boss but you didn’t comment anything out loud about it. Instead, you smiled kindly at him and both went silent after that, staring at each other every now and then and finishing the rest of your drinks. It was a comfortable and familiar silence, one of the many that you two used to share while working together in the office or in the long nights in the jet after finishing a case.

Your gaze swept over the bar, noticing the few people that was still there and the employees staring to clean up the place. You took at deep breath, pulling out your wallet.

“Well, Hotch, this was fun. Unexpected but fun.” You left some money under your empty cup, paying for your part of the drinks and Hotch did the same thing. “I should get going now, so—“

“Let me walk you over to your hotel.” He cut you off, grabbing his blazer from the chair and turning to look at you.

“Hotch you don’t ha—“

“Please, Y/N. I insist.” He said and his voice serious once again, just like when he used to get too bossy with the team but with a smile that contradicted that tone and you couldn’t say “no” to that.

“Alright, Sir. Let’s go.”

You grabbed your things and started walking out of the bar, Hotchner walking behind you.

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The walk back to the hotel was shorter than you thought; maybe it was because you were so focused on Hotchner and the small talk that you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You murmur while grabbing the room key from you bag, “But you didn’t have to come up here though.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

You could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't dare to do it and it doesn't feel good to pressure him, so you settled for just smiling at him.

And in that moment, standing in outside of you room and looking closely at him, you realized how much you missed him. You didn’t admitted that out loud after he left the BAU, you couldn’t do it because you also never fully admitted your feeling for him. Partially it was your fault, feelings were never your thing and you were afraid of what might happen if you confronted him about it so looking for excuses and reasons to not doing it always seemed easier.

For a while you truly did believed that it was just a stupid crush on your boss, something temporary, until the days turned into weeks and then months, years even, but then… he was gone.

You couldn’t really blame him for that though; he had a good reason for leaving so suddenly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Hotch finally mumbled.

You looked at him in confusion, “For what?”

“Leaving.”

“You did it to protect Jack; it was the right thing to do.” You reassure him with a smile, you unconsciously took his hand in yours. He didn’t pull away. “Don’t ever apologize for keeping your son safe, Hotch.”

“I know, choosing to be a full time dad to Jack is something I do not regret. It was something that we both needed it, especially after everything that happened with Haley.” You gulped at the mention of the name, remembering how devastated he was after her death. He took a deep breath, “But what I am trying to say is that I am sorry I didn't came back to you or the team, I should at least have called to let you know that we were fine but I got so caught up with the mundane life that it was a little too late by the time I realized about everything I left behind.”

To you.

Those two little words echoed in your head as you look at those chocolate eyes that used to drive you crazy without knowing it. You noticed that he was even closer now, slightly towering over you. It’s now or never, Y/N. You thought to yourself before speaking.

“I waited for you. I never told anyone but for a whole I waited for you to come back, hoping one day to see your demanding self in an expensive suit walking through the BAU doors again but deep down I knew that eventually I had to let you go.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding until now and smiled sadly, “That was easier said than done considering that I never stopped thing about it, about you. Because the true is that I loved you, Aaron. Maybe I still fucking do… but I doubt that this makes any difference now because maybe you never saw me in the same way that I saw you or just because it’s a little too late now.”

You finished and Hotch frowned, probably processing what you just admitted to him. He was silent for a few more seconds and you took it as your cue, letting go of his hand and turning around to open the door of you room. “I had an amazing night, thank you. See you around.”

But before you could even step foot in the room, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist and your chest hitting his. The next thing you knew after that was that his lips were on yours.

Aaron Hotchner was fucking kissing you after admitting your feelings for him.

He pulled away before you could react properly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours; this time he looked at you in a way that you had only fantasized about until now, there was love and lust on them and you could feel it, just all those feelings that you tried so hard to keep locked in the deepest part of you.

And that's all you needed before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, in a matter of seconds you two were inside the room. His lips were warm and the kiss quickly turned into a desperate one once the door was locked behind you, you could already feel yourself melting in his arms.

You didn’t even realize how it happened, but in one quick moment you were being totally pinned against the door with Aaron holding you by your thighs as your legs were wrapped around his waist. The position was now lifting your short dress, leaving your thighs even more naked but you didn't mind considering that now you could perfectly feel Aaron's hand caressing your hot skin. You move your hands from his shoulders to his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt and stripping him off it, dropping the piece of clothing somewhere in the room. As you were doing that, he broke the kiss and moved his lips to your neck, nipping and teasing the area just under your ear, turning you into a moaning mess almost immediately. The sounds being like music to his ears.

“Aaron , please.“ You moaned, this was good but you need it more. You needed him.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He asks, slightly biting the skin of your neck and you bite your bottom lip.

“Please, Sir. Fuck me.” You let out, noticing a sparkle in his eyes that you've never seen before and that only turned you on even more.

“Since you ask so nicely…” He said before walking to the other side of the room where the was a big bed in the center of it, Aaron kissed you lips and put you down in front of him, his hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You asked and Aaron stares deeply at you, the sudden seriousness on his eyes making you gulp. You nodded.

“Words, Y/N. I need words.”

“I’m sure of this, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Fuck, he was hot.

“Yes, sir.”

He bent down, his hands working on your zipper as he whisper “Good girl.” in your ear and you bite your lip once more, muffling down a moan.

He finally pulled down your dress, tossing it onto the floor completely and leaving you with only your red lace underwear; you weren't wearing a bra tonight, so you were much more exposed to him than you thought. He took one really good look at you before throwing you onto the bed, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Guess that we’re done playing around.

He kneels down on the bed, moving your legs with his knees and positioning himself between them. His hands are caressing your legs again, making their way up to the sides of your body and he leans in, kissing you again, your hands flew up to grab his hair, eagerly responding the kiss. You didn’t care how needy you seem right now, you’ve been waiting year for this, fantasizing about it, and now you had it, not really knowing for how long and that only gave you more reasons to enjoy every second of it.

“You know?,” Aaron began, his lips leaving yours and making his way down your neck, placing kisses all over your skin, “if I had know about how much you wanted me, I’ve would done something about it earlier.”

“Yeah?” You asked, arching your back as he bites one of your nipples gently, his other hand working on the other one.

“I would've pinned you down on my desk and take you right there on the office, baby. Not caring about anyone who could hear us.” He casually said, like he thought about it before and you moaned. You definitely thought about that particular situation too.

When he finally reached the place where you needed the most, he stopped and you were about to complain but Aaron shut you up by grabbing your ankles and yanking you down the end of the bed. He kneels again, parting your legs a bit more, placing one of your legs over his broad shoulders and kissing you inner thighs, slowly making his way to your soaked panties.

“I barely touch you and you’re so wet for me already?” Hotchner asked teasingly, rubbing circles with his thumb on your clit but over the fabric before taking a hold of them and ripping them out. And with no more words, Hotch held both your legs open and buried his face between them, making you moan in a matter of seconds.

He swept his tongue over you pussy swiftly, tasting my arousal first and groaning again your skin. A shiver ran through you as he stared circling your clit with his tongue and then moving down between your folds before going up again, alternating his speed and pressure.

When you thought that it couldn’t get better, Aaron proved you wrong by teasing your entrance with one of his finger and looking up at you, locking his eyes with yours. He wanted to see your reaction. You try to maintain the eye contact as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of you, curling them an hitting the right spot, a string of cursings leaving your mouth.

It didn’t take much for your legs to start shaking around his head, the knot forming on your lower stomach.

“I’m- fuck, I’m close.” You breathed betweens moans and just when you were about to reach your high, he pulled away.

“Hold that thought, sweetheart.” He shortly kissed your mouth and you tasted yourself in his before he got up off bed, his hands immediately went to unbuckle his belt and now you took your time to watch him. From his messy hair, to the red marks on his shoulders caused by your heels -oops- and then stopped at the large bulge formed in his pants, you groaned at the sight of that.

Fuck, he is big. God, if you weren't so desperate to feel him inside you, you wouldn't hesitate to drop on your knees and start sucking him.

“Do you like what you see, sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk on his face while taking off the rest of his clothes.

“Just fuck me already, please.” You begged and he positioned himself between your legs again, but he was hesitant. “Hotch?”

“I don’t have condom on me and I doubt that you have one, Y/N. I’m clean but if you—”

“I’m clean too and on the pill so don’t worry.” You smiled at him and gave a little nod.

And apparently he was as desperate as you because at all at once, Hotch took grip of your hips and pushed inside you. You immediately arched your back, moaning loudly in both pain and pleasure, your hands grabbing the sheets at your side. You were surprise that you didn’t ripped them apart yet.

“Fuck, Hotchner.” You screamed and he didn’t move for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his size. He really is big.

“You’re so thigh, baby.” He moaned in your ear, the raspy voice sending shocks straight to your core. He was capable of making you cum by just talking.

That’s how much power he had.

And then he finally started moving, pounding in and out of you slowly at first and working his way up, picking up a pace that had you both groaning and moaning.

“F-fuck, Y/N. I love hearing you scream my name.” His lips attacked your neck again and you threw your head back against the pillows, giving him all the space that he needed to play with your neck. And he took this as a perfect opportunity to sneak his hand around it, squeezing under your jaw around enough for your eyes to roll back in total pleasure as you instinctively wrapped your finger around his wrist, holding him in place. You didn’t expect him to be into chocking but you were definitely not against it.

“Harder, S-sir. Please.”

“You’re taking it so good, just like I expected it.” He growled, pulling away enough to look at the whimpering mess that you were right now, his hand never leaving your neck as he pounded even harder into you with every word. “Calling me ‘sir’ and everything, I didn’t even had to ask you to do that. You’re such a slutty responsive whore for me, aren’t you Y/N?”

The sudden dirty words coming out of your ex-boss’s mouth did nothing but to turn you on even more, if that was possible at this point. You weren’t able to form a proper sentence so you limited to nodding and moaning his name. He didn’t like that.

“I asked you a fucking question, sweetheart, answered it.”

“Y-yes, I am, S-sir.” You chocked, the knot on your stomach forming once more and by the way that his pace flickered you knew that he was close too. “I’m close, Aaron.”

“Then cum for me, baby.” He commanded, continuing his thrusts and you were already oversensitive from his earlier work so it didn’t took you long before you started clenching around him.

“Fuck, Aaron.”

“Say it louder, Y/N.”

“Aaron!” He bottom out inside of you again and you moaned loudly one last time as your body reached its limit, hitting your climax with every nerve in you tired body.

“That’s a good girl.” He said between moans, his dick twitching softly as he release himself inside of you with one last and hard thrust.

He let go of your throat but didn’t’ pull out immediately after that. His breathing was a little erratic, his lips were red and swollen, and there was a thin layer of sweat all over his body. He looked disturbingly hot.

Of course he did. He’s Aaron fucking Hotchner.

It was as if these last 3 years had never existed.

Neither of you said a word as he slowly got up and walked into the bathroom of the room to grabbed a wet towel to clean you up, doing the same thing on him before putting back his boxers, you didn’t have the strength to grab your clothes so you just put the sheets of the bed on top of you, covering you nudity.

“Oh, sp now you’re shy?” He snorted, chuckling softly and you smiled.

“Shut up and come here.” You patted the bed and he didn’t hesitate on laying next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You felt safe, like there’s was nowhere else you rather be in that moment.

“Thank you.” He whispered after a moment breaking the silence, his face resting on your shoulder.

“For what?”

“For all of… that.”

“You’ve always have such a ways with words, Hotch.” You chuckled as you looked down at him. “Thank you for ordering my margarita in the first place.”

“It was a pleasure.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a playful way.

“How long are you staying here, Y/N?” He finally asked and you let out a tiny sigh at the question.

You knew you weren't here for a long vacation and neither was Aaron, you two have your lives outside this room , but being here now felt so good and peaceful. So… right. This, also, was probably a one-time thing, something that was destined to happen eventually, no matter how long it took.

But you didn’t want- no, you couldn’t face the fact that you may have to let him go again. Especially not after what just happened. I mean, how could you?

And little did you know that Aaron was feeling the exact same thing.

“Enough not to have to worry about it right now.” You answered with a shrug while your fingertips trace invisible circles on his back.

“Good. I can live with that, for now at least.” And then he broke the comfortable embrace by getting up and out of the bed, you furrowed you eyebrows and he extended on his hands towards you, “Come on, let’s take a shower so we can sleep properly.”

“Yes, sir.” You took his hand, getting up with his help and trying your best not to limp as you made your way to the bathroom, “By the way, where are you staying while you’re here?”

He turned around at the question, pulling you closer to him and softly kissing your lips before using a more serious tone to say, “In the room above this one.”

Of course he was. You thought while you watched as he began to prepare the bath for the both of you.

Funny how destiny works sometimes.

[spaceorphan18]

The CrossRhodes Saga 2/?

40s Noir Klaine AU

Rating: Eventual M or E Warnings: None at the moment Word Count: 1907 Summary: FBI Agents Kurt and Brittany go undercover as a married couple to investigate the CrossRhodes Lounge - a jazz club with some mysterious things going on.  

Yup, It’s a total 40s Noir AU with undercover identities, black widow sham marriages, and Cooper fucking Anderson.

A/N: Thanks to @snarkyhag for betaing! :)  Yes, I know where this is going - but please note the ‘saga’ in the title.  Also - I don’t claim to be historically accurate.  

AO3 Link

[ Chapter 1 ]

/

Chapter 2

Sue acquired a place for them not too far from the lounge.   The apartment, which was modest in size for a New York living space, would double as a place for operations and as a place for them to stay while undercover.  Brittany spent the first hour they were there finding all the secret hiding places; false bottoms in the drawers, extra space behind the closet wall, a safe behind a landscape oil painting, and two hollowed places in the floor.  There was even a tiny secret room behind the bookcase in the living room that connected the living room to the bedroom.  A desk had been squished into the tiny space ‘for your convenience’ Sue had said.  

Although Sue hadn’t mentioned it, Kurt thought there was a pretty good chance that the whole place was probably bugged, too.  There was something about the apartment that felt as though someone was always watching you.  And knowing Sue, someone probably was.

He and Brittany would assume false identities, Mr. and Mrs. Richard and Betty Tubbington.  Something told Kurt that Brittany had helped Sue pick out the names.  They were a well-off couple, Richard Tubbington having a lavish women’s clothing line.

“Why just women’s clothing?” Kurt had asked.  

“Because something about you just screams blouse,” Sue had replied.

Kurt had blinked slowly then turned around and walked right out of her office.  He wasn’t sure why he bothered asking her these things.

Betty was a stay-at-home wife, who began looking for a hobby to get her out of the house every once in awhile. Richard would stand in as a manager, to make sure there was no funny business, and find her some interesting work.  Claiming that they were a friend of a friend of one of the regulars, Richard had heard about the opening  singer/dancer/waitress and called the lounge to set up an audition for her.

Kurt had been hoping to talk to Santana Lopez herself but instead he had a conversation with a woman named Quinn Fabray, who claimed to be the talent handler for the lounge.  Ms. Fabray sounded indifferent at best about the inquiry but didn’t question their interest.  They were able to secure the audition the next day.

The night of the audition was their first night in the apartment.  Kurt and Brittany spent the afternoon going over their plant to make sure they were on the same page going forward.   Brittany, despite her eccentricities, listened to his plan carefully.  Tonight would just be about scoping out the place, getting the feel for it and its people, and making sure Brittany acquired the position.

Getting ready for the evening, Kurt scoped out the closet and found that it was full of clothes for each of them.  Kurt picked out a navy suit, the only thing in the closet that looked freshly purchased, and not like Sue had found it at a flea market.  The jacket was a little too big, the pants slightly too small, and Kurt wished he had time to see his tailor because a few adjustments would make the whole ensemble work.  But this wasn’t for him, was it.  It was a part he had to play.  He vaguely thought back to a time when he loved to play different roles, acting out his stories for his mother in the kitchen.  That felt like a long time ago now, even if there was still something appealing about being someone who isn’t you.

Kurt put on his shoes and checked the mirror again to make sure his hair was still styled nicely.  He had finished before Brittany, who was locked in the bathroom, so he gave himself a moment to examine the apartment.  

There was something surreal about the whole ordeal, the entire place was set up as if they actually had a life there. They hadn’t been allowed any of their personal belongings, Sue had made sure they had all their necessities ready and waiting for them.  Despite the fact that they could return to their own places at any point, it felt like they were having an extended vacation at a very strange hotel.  

It was modestly furnished, though Sue’s gaudy taste in furniture did not match his own; there were books on the bookshelves (plenty of mystery novels, Kurt noted, completely Sue’s sense of humor), and there was even food in the fridge.  There were very few personal items, however, with the exception of a few photos he and Brittany had posed for a few days before, which included a mock wedding photo that sat on the nightstand.

Kurt took a moment to look at the wedding photo - two happy smiling people supposedly on the best day of their life.  It was amazing what good lighting and a nice angle will get you.  Even he bought that they were in love with each other.  But the photo wasn’t any more real than anything else in that apartment.  

Marriage was a goal he knew he would never achieve, and he had long ago made with his peace with that.  But still, it’d be nice to have someone to come home to, someone who could hold him at night, and kiss him good morning.  Someone he could grow old with.  Someone who would like him for just being him…

“Kurt - I need your help!” Brittany called from the bathroom.  

She was mostly ready, wearing a red dress that had a black and white polka dotted underlining, and black heels.  Her hair was done, barrette in the back, curls over her shoulders. Her make-up was flawless - dark red lipstick suited her well.  She was absolutely stunning.  It bemused him sometimes how often he was in the company of such wonderful women, and never found a single one of them attractive beyond objectively.  

“What can I do for you, Brit?”

“Can you put this necklace on me?”

“Sure?”

Kurt gently swept the hair off her neck, and clasped the necklace in place.  He then looked up and saw their reflection in the mirror.  They made a lovely couple, in the right costumes, under the right light.  The reflection looking back painted a nice picture, a loving husband and wife, but their images were just as mocking as the wedding photo.  It was only a facade.  It would always only be a facade.  

“Why are you being so mopey?” Brittany asked, giving him a frown.

“I not being mopey.”

“You’re totally being mopey.” She turned around and pointed a finger at him.  “If you’re going to be my husband you can’t be mopey like this.  Especially when you’re going to spend the evening with some as clearly amazing as I am.”

He couldn’t help but crack a smile.  “Alright, I’ll try not to be mopey.”

Her eyes lit up, and she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.  “This is going to be a lot of fun, Kurt Hummel.  Just you wait.”

//

By the time the arrived at the lounge, Kurt was in better spirits, and he and Brittany entered arm in arm.  The bouncer was a bald man name ‘Puck’ who had a bit of a bark to him.  Over the years Kurt had seen a lot of guys like these, and either he or Brittany could take him down with just a threat if need be.  The staircase was barely lit, and tight enough that he and Brittany had to descend in single file.  The stairs, however, were misleading.  The lounge itself was not what Kurt had expected.

The room was massive for New York City, sprawling about three sizes larger than the bars he was used to.  Christmas lights of gold, red, and orange lined the ceiling, creating a warm glow about the place.  There were sturdy wooden chairs and tables, each with a little candle in the middle, and to the right, along the wall, was a black, sleek, newly built bar.  The stage was to the left, and had a small walk way into the main part of the room, so the singers could participate with the audience at closer range if desired.  A small pit for the jazz band was located just off the side of the stage.  There was a far door on the opposite side of the room, most likely leading to bathrooms, backstage, and management offices.

Sue had said slinky, but he now doubted that she had stepped inside the place before giving them the assignment.  The place was, actually, quite welcoming and Kurt stopped at the bottom of the stairs for a moment to take it all in.  The place was only a quarter or so full - but it was early in the evening, surely the numbers would grow as the night went on. The band played a lively number, while an African-American woman sang and an Asian-American woman tap danced along.    Instead of loners sitting around drinking by themselves as he expected, most of the patrons were sitting in small groups, chatting happily as they sipped their colorful cocktails, a few of them dancing to the music in the aisles.  

“This place is magical,” Brittany said, just as the music wrapped up with an enthusiastic wail on the final note.  Kurt could only nod in agreement.  The place erupted into cheers as the women took their bow.  

Kurt and Brittany were slowly making their way to the bar across the room when the women made their way off stage.  The lounge grew quiet as the band began to play again, this time a slower number.  

The curtains parted and out strode a very gorgeous man up to the microphone.  He closed his eyes, and began to sing, slowly, carefully, the first few notes of the song.  Kurt became immediately transfixed, hanging onto every note.  Then, his eyes flew open, alive with delight as the song picked up tempo.  Kurt knew who he was - there was no doubt about it.  He had seen the file, maybe lingered on the photo a little too long while going through it, but photographs did not do him justice.  Blaine Anderson was breathtaking in person, and it took Kurt completely off guard.  

His voice was rich and inviting, his energy captivating, and sensuality just oozed from him.  He used the microphone as a partner, singing into it almost seductively.  He knew how to work the audience, how to use the music to his advantage to draw them in, make them watch, and try as he might, Kurt couldn’t look away.  He was frozen on the spot - just watching.  Blaine made a point to interact with the audience, reached out to them, winked at them, and for one brief second, made eye contact with Kurt and, damn, he even smirked.  

Kurt’s heart began to race.  This was a bad idea.  He couldn’t already be entwined with a subject’s fiance - he can’t.  But even worse, he couldn’t be this enamoured with a straight man.  This was a bad, bad idea.  

Still…

As the song wrapped up, Brittany grabbed his hand - anchoring him back to reality.  He looked to her, because he couldn’t look back up at the stage, and she gave him a kind smile.  For a moment, he wondered if she knew.  

The bar was tended by an Asian-American man with a friendly smile named Mike, according to his nametag.

“Ah, first timers?” he asked.  Kurt and Brittany exchanged looks and nodded.  “Well, welcome to CrossRhodes Lounge - first drink is on the house.  What can I get you?”

Behind Kurt, Blaine Anderson had gone into his second song, and it took every ounce he had not to turn around and look.  “Something sobering, actually,” Kurt said.  

Mike laughed. “And for the lady?”

“Oh, just some water,” Brittany said.  “I’m auditioning tonight - have to be my best!”

“Auditioning, huh?” Mike said.  “Oh! You must be here to fill in Sugar’s old spot.”

“Sugar?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah, she didn’t exactly leave in good graces.  But that’s about all I know.”  Mike took a step back and put his hands up as if he didn’t want to really talk about it.  Kurt made a mental note to look into that later.  “I’m guessing you wanna talk to Quinn.  She should be in the back, hold on.  Sam! Hey, Sam!” Mike called out to a blond man leaning against the wall watching the women who were performing earlier sing back up for Blaine.  “You’ll have to forgive him, he’s sweet on Mercedes up there.  Sam!” Mike gave Sam a whack on the arm to finally get his attention.

“Ouch, what?” Sam said, rubbing his arm.  

“We have a new hire prospect,” Mike said.  “Can you go grab Quinn?”

Sam lit up as he noticed Kurt and Brittany.  “Sure! It’d be nice to have a few new faces around here.”

Sam left towards the back.  

“So, is Santana Lopez here?” Kurt asked.  “I heard she owns the place.”

Mike gave a noncommittal shrug.  “I never know where she is.  Breezes in and out when she feels like it.  Why? Do you need me to pass a message along.”

“No, merely curious.”

Another minute passed and Sam returned with a woman Kurt supposed was Quinn Fabray.  Quinn’s blonde hair was tightly pulled up in a high bun, she wore a blouse and skirt, more appropriate of a secretary at an office than at a cocktail bar, and a scowl on her face.  

Kurt stepped forward to introduce himself.  “Hello, Ms. Fabray, my name is Richard Tubbington and this is my wife Betty.  I’m here representing her.  She’s quite the talented girl, and I’m sure she’ll be a good fit to your staff.”  Kurt attempted to throw in an overly fond smile but he wasn’t sure how well it played with Quinn, as she ignored him completely to talk with Brittany.

“Hi, I’m Betty,” Brittany said, maybe a little too overly sweet.

“Quinn.  What are your qualifications?”

“Oh,” Brittany tilted her head to think about it.  “I’m mostly self taught, but I know how to move so people like it.”  She unexpectedly wiggled her butt tauntingly close to Kurt, enough that it made him blush a little.  “See, even my husband likes it.”

Quinn gave her an odd look.  “Well, I’ll definitely audition you, but I’m afraid this job won’t pay much.”

“We won’t be asking for much,” Kurt said.  “We’re not in need of money.  Betty would just like to spread her wings a little, wouldn’t you, B?”

“Yes, I barely am able to get out of the house,” Brittany added.  “And I don’t think the world really appreciates just how unicorn I really am.”

Kurt pretended what Brittany said was completely normal.  “She really is fantastic.”

“Well, they’re almost done, so we’ll just get you up there to see how well you can sing,” Quinn said.  “Would you mind coming with me to the back? We’ll get you ready for the stage, and there’ll be a few more questions I’d like to ask.”

Quinn took Brittany’s arm to lead her to the back.  Kurt made a motion to leave with them, but Quinn stopped him dead in his tracks with a glare.  

“Do you really need to have that much control over your wife?” she asked.  Kurt noticed Quinn playing with the wedding ring on her left hand, an expensive gold band, large diamond, very new.  Huh.  

“I just assumed…”

“Well, she’s the one auditioning. Not you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Brittany gave him a kiss on the cheek.  “You worry too much about me.”

Kurt didn’t argue, and Brittany left with Quinn, leaving him alone at the bar.  

Mike came back in another minute with bright drink and the reassurance that if nothing else, it could lift his spirits.  He wasn’t so sure but took the drink anyway.  It had a sharp taste, bitter with a bit of a tang added to it.  He snacked on a few peanuts and took a few more sips, not sure if he liked it but he began to feel more relaxed and it was nice, for a moment, to feel unclenched.   His head began to feel a little fuzzy, not in a bad way though, and he smiled as the women on stage began another tap number.

“I really doubt the government could cover up something that big,” he heard Mike say to Sam behind the bar.

“It’s definitely aliens,” Sam said, slapping the back of his hand to the other to drive home his point.  “My cousin was down there, he knows.”

“Your cousin is also high ninety percent of the time,” Mike argued. “He also talks to cactuses on a regular basis.”

Kurt began to giggle, just a little.  He should tell Sue, she’d get such a big kick out of the conversation.  He then thought of work, and that he should start making a list of things to go on his report when he returned home, but his brain wouldn’t quite connect the thoughts.  

He was trying hard to concentrate when someone brushed, no cupped, his elbow.  Startled, Kurt looked up to see Blaine Anderson take the stool next to him.  

“Hi,” Blaine said.  At first Kurt thought maybe Blaine was talking to someone else, but other than a lone, elderly man at the far end of the bar, and a couple of young girls giggling with their heads together at the other end, no one else was there.  No, Blaine Anderson was definitely speaking to him; Blaine Anderson with his warm, honey-colored eyes and his charming smile.  “My name’s Blaine.”

“Kurt,” Shit.  “I mean Richard K. Tubbington.  I go by my middle name, Kurt.”

“Well, hello Richard K. Tubbington-I-actually-go-by-Kurt,” Blaine said.

There was something enchanting about the way he talked.  What was going on? Was there something in that drink?  Blaine rested his hand on the bar - his hand close to Kurt’s, close enough to reach out and touch.  Kurt’s hands became sweaty at the thought - when was the last time that had happened?  

“Santana said you’d be waiting for me during my set.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t say you were so, um, well,” Blaine turned away for a moment, almost nervously.  “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“It’s, um, nice to, uh, meet you, too,” he said, a little dumbly.  Words were becoming hard.  Blaine up close was almost too much to handle.  He noticed that Blaine’s hair began to curl at the ends where the gel was loosening.  Focus, Kurt, focus.   “I haven’t, um, met Ms. Lopez, only Ms. Fabray.”

“Oh?” Blaine looked confused.  “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

Blaine reached barely an inch further and brushed Kurt’s fingertips with his own.  Kurt was stunned, frozen in place, to dumbstruck to talk as Blaine ever-so-lightly caressed his fingers.  Was he flirting? Oh god - what was going on? Sue? There’s no way Sue did this, did she?  He didn’t really care, not when Blaine was back to looking at him with large, adoring eyes.  He was pretty sure that no man had ever looked at him like that before.  

There was a sharp, high pitch note coming from the jazz band that jolted Kurt back to reality.  Managing to break away from Blaine’s gaze, he glanced up at the stage, where Brittany was taking her place.  She waved at him as her number started up.

“Oh, it’s Br-Betty.  Betty’s starting now.” His head was still so hazy.

“Betty?”

“My, um, wife.  Betty, she’s on stage right now.”

Blaine retracted his hand immediately and whipped his head around to look.  “What? Santana didn’t mention...I mean, god, married? I… I…”

“Bla-aine!” The woman calling his name could only be Santana Lopez.  Kurt recognized her immediately from the file - only, as enthusiastic as she was about seeing Blaine, she seemed much more intimidating in person.   She was followed by another man, who looked like he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to be there.  “Blaine, I’m sorry we’re late.” She pushed between Kurt and Blaine, not really even noticing Kurt was there at first, and threw her arms around Blaine’s neck.  “And I brought someone to...” she threw a quick look around to Kurt and eyed him suspiciously.   “To wrap up those business negotiations.  His name is Jeremiah.  He runs the tux shop down the road, you guys, I’m sure, will have lively conversations about bowties in no time.  Feel free to use my office.”  

Blaine’s eyes grew wide, and he looked apologetically over at Kurt.  There had been a mix-up.  Of course this was some kind of mix-up.  Kurt deflated as that realization became clear.  He didn’t understand what all this business stuff was about, but Kurt had not been Blaine’s intended target.  That was for sure.  Still - was flirting standard practice with all possible business prospects? Something was fishy about the whole thing.  Kurt had a job to do, even if the job suddenly felt so much harder than it did a week ago.

As soon as Blaine left for the backroom with Jeremiah, Santana spun on her heel, and eyed him hard. “Hi, Santana Lopez.  We haven’t met.  What are you doing in my lounge talking with my fiance?” Her unexpected preditorialism caught him off guard, but only for a second.  Her fierceness rekindled his sense of purpose.  And he didn’t appreciate the condescension.  

“You haven’t seen me because I’ve never been here.  I’m Richard K. Tubbington.  And we were talking.”  Which is probably the only legal thing going on in this place, he wanted to add, but wisely did not.

Santana crossed her arms across her chest in disgust.  “Just what I need, another dick in my life.”  

“He’s also manager and husband of Betty Tubbington,” Quinn had come up behind Santana.  Her face was controlled, but underneath she was seething.  “Betty is auditioning tonight to take Sugar’s place - which you would know about if you ever showed up for work.”

“I’m trying to keep this business floating, which means sometimes I have to go outside and get help,” Santana said.  The animosity between the two women was tense.  “No one gave you permission to hire anyone.”

“Whatever help you’re trying to get is not working,” Quinn shot back.  “They inquired, they’re here, and they’re cheap.  You don’t really want another Sugar on your hands, do you?”

“You still need to talk to me.”

“Fine - you tell her to stop singing.”

Quinn held her hand out towards Brittany, was on her second song, and in the audience, leaning on one of the tables, flirting with a flustered Sam by pulling his tie.  Santana saw Brittany and became speechless.  She looked at Kurt, confused, then back to Brittany, who was doing a shoulder shimmie, then back to Kurt.  

“You are married to her?” Santana asked as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

“Yup.”

“As in you’ve actually had sex?”

“Santana!” Quinn snapped.  

Brittany spotted Kurt, pointed a finger at him, then crooked it towards her.  She danced her way to the bar, perfectly in time with the music, then gave a hip bump to Santana, who let out a little yelp, played with Quinn’s bun, then booped Kurt’s nose before heading back towards the stage.  Santana blinked slowly, not sure what just happened.  A twitch of a smile formed on Quinn’s lips.  

“I think we should hire her,” Quinn said, hands on her hips.  “God knows this place could use a little tension relief.”

Santana watched Brittany for a moment more, thinking hard.  “Alright fine,” she gave in.  “C’mon, Mr. Tubbington, let’s negotiate.”

They were in! Kurt felt a wave of relief wash over him, even if getting in was always the easy part.  

Santana motioned for him to follow her, and they made their way to what he suspected would be the office area.  Blaine and his ‘business associate’ were on the way out, Blaine laughing easily at something Jeremiah had just said.  The moment he saw Santana and Kurt, his face fell, and he quickly looked away, deliberately trying not to make eye contact with Kurt.  Kurt’s heart dropped.  Santana patted Blaine on the cheek as they passed, not noticing anything was wrong.  Kurt noticed, though.  And he hated that.  

He was not going to let Blaine get to him, he promised himself.  This assignment would remain completely professional.  It had to.  He followed Santana down the hallway, and tried hard to get Blaine’s enticing, hazel eyes out of his head.