I'd Tell You I Love You, But Then I'd Have To Kill You 8/?
Title: I'd Tell You I Love You, But Then I'd Have To Kill You 8/?
Author: K-Lee
Rating: R
Pairing: OC Zack/Kurt/Puck, Blaine/Finn
Spoilers: Season 2 spoilers
Warnings: Sex, heartache, and spies. Kurt's POV
Summary: Dalton Academy is an all-boys school that specializes in only
geniuses. Every person outside of its walls believes it's a snooty,
rich school, but really, it trains smarticles to be spies. Kurt Hummel
is not only the principal's son, but funds himself trapped in a love triangle and a secret plot to destroy the soon to be president. What will happen when he finds that his on and off boyfriend, Zack, may have a part in it?
Author's Notes: The title and the plot is from a book I read about
spies, and most of the questions, answers, and lists (because im not a real spy and i dont know what really goes on on every secret agency).The only difference is the characters, the school, and the fact that it's all-boys and not all-girls. Link to previous chapter on the bottom of the chapter.
~Chapter 8~
I wasn't feeling myself that night. When I woke up, I felt Zack's arms around me and thought how wrong it seemed. There was absolutely no spark. What happened last night was an equevalent to a pity fuck. It made me want to cry again.
Climbing out of the school was easy, considering I got in without difficulty. It was sneaking back into Dalton that was difficult. I used to call me dad "Spiderman" because I always thought he had "spider sense" when Blaine and I would do something wrong. He always knew.
Especially since he caught me the first time, I doubt he'd be okay with a second time.
But once I was seated in the dining hall (Blaine has fortunately helped me get in without attracting anyone), I realized my dad wasn't there.
"où est papa?" (Where's dad?), I asked in French, our language of the day.
Blaine shrugged. "Je ne sais pas. Il a dit qu'il allait sortir, mais n'a pas précisé où." (I don't know. He said he was going out, but didn't say where.)
I sighed. " Vous savez qui nous devons aller, non?" (You know who we have to go to, right?)
I mentally gave myself a pat on the back for that one. My French accent was getting better. Maybe not as good as my Norwegian one, but still. Improvement is good.
Blaine grinned. "Mike."
00--00--00--00--00--00--00--00--
"How may I help you two?" asked Mike.
We were in his dorm, Mike sitting on the chair in front of his computer, Blaine sitting on one end of the desk, and I was perched at the edge of his bed.
We came to Mike because he was a tracker. You see, Sam is the computer wiz that can hack any database (he once hacked the FBI when he was nine to see if his mom's boyfriend was a serial killer). Mike, on the other hand, is also a computer wiz, but he specializes in tracking where a person goes.
Very effecient for our problem at the time. "We need to see where my dad is. You think you could do that?"
Mike grinned and cracked his fingers, "Watch this." Mike had imported his computer from Japan (it was the fastest computer ever made), so each page popped up in literally less than a second.
"Ok, so Burt Hummel ordered for a private jet to meet him at the airport here in Lima at........3:00 p.m. He landed at Honolulu in Hawaii at 6:00 a.m. then set off two hours later. He flew towards Canada, but it says he landed at Hearthrow Airport in Britian."
I looked over at Blaine. "How does that make sense? Why did it say he went to Canada but landed in Britain?"
Blaine shrugged. "Wait, remember that story dad used to tell us? The one in Venezuela?"
I shrugged. "Dad tells us a million stories about when he was in Venezuela."
Blaine rolled his eyes. "Anyway, he said when the Bolivarian Intelligence Service, their secret intelligence agency, was tracking him down when they were tipped off by someone framing dad with stealing the Queen of Britian's family necklace, he used a false passport and found a way to lead them to Japan instead of Barbados, which was where he really landed. Maybe you should look up a passport that looks like something dad would use."
My eyes widened. "I really need to pay more attention." Blaine chuckled. "Dad usually uses the date on birth between 1957 and 1960. His favorite nationality is French, so it might be on his passport, and 'James' is a last name he usually uses as well."
I sighed. "Is that from another story?"
"No, he said it in CoveOps class last week."
"Got it!"
We turned to Mike to see a picture of a passport. The name was Kennedy James and it looked like a slightly younger version of dad. His nationality did indeed say "French" and the date of birth was May 19, 1958.
"Kennedy James" landed in Winnipeg, Canada, while "Burt Hummel" landed in Great Britian. "What's dad doing in Canada? Blackthorne is located a couple blocks away."
Blaine shook his head, his dark curls flying everywhere. "I honestly do not want to know how you know that, but if it's not Blackthorne, then that means there is something else he isn't telling us."
Mike shrugged. He looked over to me. "Another Operation?"
I nodded. "Call Sam. Blaine's in on it now. We need to help dad."
00--00--00--00--00--00--00--00--
Operation: Figure Out What Dad Is Hiding (And Why)
Operatives: Kurt Hummel, Blaine Hummel, Sam Evans, Mike Chang
Mission: Find out what made dad decide to keep secrets (again).
I flipped through the files inside Dad's file cabinet. Not much help was offered there. Sam was trying to hack into Dad's computer without setting off the alarm he programed to it. We covered the camera on thr computer with duct tape. You never know when it comes to my dad.
Sam successfully got into dad's account. He scrolled quickly through his saved files and info. "Wait, go back."
Sam followed my instructions. This is what we found:
Name: Jane Gallagher
Age: 32
Nationality: Chinese, Swedish
DOB: February 21, 1979
Languages: English, Swedish,Japanese(?)
Family: Trevor Taylor (Husband), Zechariah Taylor (Son), Martina Taylor (daughter)
Ages of Family: Trevor - 43, Zechariah - 17, Martina - 16
Residence: Winnipeg, Canada
Occupation: Secretary of publishing company ( Agent for MI6)
There was more, but my eyes could only focus on "Family". Dad wasn't looking into the school. He was looking into my boyfriend.
I sat on the opposite of the desk. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn't meet them. Why was my dad looking into Zack? Was it being on overprotective dad, or was it something else?
I felt Blaine's hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him. "What's going on?" I asked, hoping Blaine could have some kind of answer. Instead he said, "I don't know, but we need to figure it out. It says Zack is going to be there as well."
00--00--00--00--00--00--00--00--
I forgot that dad would need a replacement principal. Unfortunately it was Uncle David, one of the greatest spies in history. But, with the help of his son, Joey, we were able to sneak out. Almost.
"Where do you think you are going?"
It was late, about 1:00 a.m. And definatly past our curfew. We look back. Standing in the foyer with us was Uncle David. He was wearing bright pink, silk pajamas and matching pants. His slippers were fuzzy pink and he look pissed.
"To the store?" I punched Sam in the arm. "We need to do something very important."
"Like?"
It took a minute for me to think up a good excuse. But, I don't think any excuse would have gotten past Uncle David. "Dad's mission has something to do with my boyfriend. I need to figure out what my boyfriend has to do with this."
Uncle David stared at us, his hands on his hips. "If I said no?"
I stood up straighter. "I'd find a way to leave, no matter what you say." Uncle David smiled. "You know, if you didn't remind me of me, I'd have locked you up in your bedroom with no way out."
Sam moved closer to me. "Does that mean we can go?" he whispered in my ear. "Yes, you can go, Mr. Evans," Uncle David said. Sam eyes widened, because Uncle Davd was more than eight feet away, making it almost impossible for him to hear.
"Oh, I could hear you, Mr. Evans. And no, I can't read mind," Uncle David said with a wink before he turned. "Better get a move on before the cameras turn back on."
00--00--00--00--00--00--00--00--
Uncle David had helped by calling his husband, Ryan. Ryan, a former MI6 agent, let us borrow his private jet (it was so fucking awsome!). I'm pretty sure Sam was jumping on the water bed. Mike was staring intently at the 56'' screen as the ninjas from Kung Fu Hustle flew across the TV.
Blaine, being the awsome big brother, sat next to me. He read to me like he used to when we were little, even if ge was only a year or so older than me. He read "The Girl Who Played With Fire" to me. I didn't understand the mathimetical terms Lisbeth Salander was so easily able to figure out. So we spent the plane ride figuring out Fermat's thereom. I won't lie, it's pretty hard, considering it drove matemiticians over the edge.
Even when we landed, not only was I deprived of sleep, but I had a migraine and still hadn't found the proof.
We drove through the town to the suburbs. I looked out the window and watched children play on their front yards.
Mike had given the directions to a small white house, a light grey porch wrapped around it. The window panes were the same color as the porch and I noticed that all of the curtains on the windows were closed.
We payed the taxi and the others looked at me expectantly. "What? You expect me to go up to them and ask, 'Hey, do you by any chance know why my dad is investigating you'?"
Blaine shrugged. "Well, Blackthorne is on vacation from school, you could say your his boyfriend and he invited us," Sam said. I sighed and rolled my eyes as we walked up to the front door.
A woman about thirty-two years-old answer after the second ring. Her hair was blonde like Zack's. He had her facial features as well. "May I help you?" She had a very strong British accent, making it a little hard to understand to non-spies.
"Yes, is Zack here? He invited us for a sleepover."
She looked a little confused. "He never spoke to me about that. Excuse me."
She closed the door and I counted the seconds until she came back. 200 seconds later the door opened, but it was Zack. "Kurt? What the hell? Why are you here?"
I shrugged. "We need to talk."
TBC....
Previous Chapter
Author: K-Lee
Rating: R
Pairing: OC Zack/Kurt/Puck, Blaine/Finn
Spoilers: Season 2 spoilers
Warnings: Sex, heartache, and spies. Kurt's POV
Summary: Dalton Academy is an all-boys school that specializes in only
geniuses. Every person outside of its walls believes it's a snooty,
rich school, but really, it trains smarticles to be spies. Kurt Hummel
is not only the principal's son, but funds himself trapped in a love triangle and a secret plot to destroy the soon to be president. What will happen when he finds that his on and off boyfriend, Zack, may have a part in it?
Author's Notes: The title and the plot is from a book I read about
spies, and most of the questions, answers, and lists (because im not a real spy and i dont know what really goes on on every secret agency).The only difference is the characters, the school, and the fact that it's all-boys and not all-girls. Link to previous chapter on the bottom of the chapter.
~Chapter 8~
I wasn't feeling myself that night. When I woke up, I felt Zack's arms around me and thought how wrong it seemed. There was absolutely no spark. What happened last night was an equevalent to a pity fuck. It made me want to cry again.
Climbing out of the school was easy, considering I got in without difficulty. It was sneaking back into Dalton that was difficult. I used to call me dad "Spiderman" because I always thought he had "spider sense" when Blaine and I would do something wrong. He always knew.
Especially since he caught me the first time, I doubt he'd be okay with a second time.
But once I was seated in the dining hall (Blaine has fortunately helped me get in without attracting anyone), I realized my dad wasn't there.
"où est papa?" (Where's dad?), I asked in French, our language of the day.
Blaine shrugged. "Je ne sais pas. Il a dit qu'il allait sortir, mais n'a pas précisé où." (I don't know. He said he was going out, but didn't say where.)
I sighed. " Vous savez qui nous devons aller, non?" (You know who we have to go to, right?)
I mentally gave myself a pat on the back for that one. My French accent was getting better. Maybe not as good as my Norwegian one, but still. Improvement is good.
Blaine grinned. "Mike."
00--00--00--00--00--00--00--00--
"How may I help you two?" asked Mike.
We were in his dorm, Mike sitting on the chair in front of his computer, Blaine sitting on one end of the desk, and I was perched at the edge of his bed.
We came to Mike because he was a tracker. You see, Sam is the computer wiz that can hack any database (he once hacked the FBI when he was nine to see if his mom's boyfriend was a serial killer). Mike, on the other hand, is also a computer wiz, but he specializes in tracking where a person goes.
Very effecient for our problem at the time. "We need to see where my dad is. You think you could do that?"
Mike grinned and cracked his fingers, "Watch this." Mike had imported his computer from Japan (it was the fastest computer ever made), so each page popped up in literally less than a second.
"Ok, so Burt Hummel ordered for a private jet to meet him at the airport here in Lima at........3:00 p.m. He landed at Honolulu in Hawaii at 6:00 a.m. then set off two hours later. He flew towards Canada, but it says he landed at Hearthrow Airport in Britian."
I looked over at Blaine. "How does that make sense? Why did it say he went to Canada but landed in Britain?"
Blaine shrugged. "Wait, remember that story dad used to tell us? The one in Venezuela?"
I shrugged. "Dad tells us a million stories about when he was in Venezuela."
Blaine rolled his eyes. "Anyway, he said when the Bolivarian Intelligence Service, their secret intelligence agency, was tracking him down when they were tipped off by someone framing dad with stealing the Queen of Britian's family necklace, he used a false passport and found a way to lead them to Japan instead of Barbados, which was where he really landed. Maybe you should look up a passport that looks like something dad would use."
My eyes widened. "I really need to pay more attention." Blaine chuckled. "Dad usually uses the date on birth between 1957 and 1960. His favorite nationality is French, so it might be on his passport, and 'James' is a last name he usually uses as well."
I sighed. "Is that from another story?"
"No, he said it in CoveOps class last week."
"Got it!"
We turned to Mike to see a picture of a passport. The name was Kennedy James and it looked like a slightly younger version of dad. His nationality did indeed say "French" and the date of birth was May 19, 1958.
"Kennedy James" landed in Winnipeg, Canada, while "Burt Hummel" landed in Great Britian. "What's dad doing in Canada? Blackthorne is located a couple blocks away."
Blaine shook his head, his dark curls flying everywhere. "I honestly do not want to know how you know that, but if it's not Blackthorne, then that means there is something else he isn't telling us."
Mike shrugged. He looked over to me. "Another Operation?"
I nodded. "Call Sam. Blaine's in on it now. We need to help dad."
00--00--00--00--00--00--00--00--
Operation: Figure Out What Dad Is Hiding (And Why)
Operatives: Kurt Hummel, Blaine Hummel, Sam Evans, Mike Chang
Mission: Find out what made dad decide to keep secrets (again).
I flipped through the files inside Dad's file cabinet. Not much help was offered there. Sam was trying to hack into Dad's computer without setting off the alarm he programed to it. We covered the camera on thr computer with duct tape. You never know when it comes to my dad.
Sam successfully got into dad's account. He scrolled quickly through his saved files and info. "Wait, go back."
Sam followed my instructions. This is what we found:
Name: Jane Gallagher
Age: 32
Nationality: Chinese, Swedish
DOB: February 21, 1979
Languages: English, Swedish,Japanese(?)
Family: Trevor Taylor (Husband), Zechariah Taylor (Son), Martina Taylor (daughter)
Ages of Family: Trevor - 43, Zechariah - 17, Martina - 16
Residence: Winnipeg, Canada
Occupation: Secretary of publishing company ( Agent for MI6)
There was more, but my eyes could only focus on "Family". Dad wasn't looking into the school. He was looking into my boyfriend.
I sat on the opposite of the desk. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn't meet them. Why was my dad looking into Zack? Was it being on overprotective dad, or was it something else?
I felt Blaine's hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him. "What's going on?" I asked, hoping Blaine could have some kind of answer. Instead he said, "I don't know, but we need to figure it out. It says Zack is going to be there as well."
00--00--00--00--00--00--00--00--
I forgot that dad would need a replacement principal. Unfortunately it was Uncle David, one of the greatest spies in history. But, with the help of his son, Joey, we were able to sneak out. Almost.
"Where do you think you are going?"
It was late, about 1:00 a.m. And definatly past our curfew. We look back. Standing in the foyer with us was Uncle David. He was wearing bright pink, silk pajamas and matching pants. His slippers were fuzzy pink and he look pissed.
"To the store?" I punched Sam in the arm. "We need to do something very important."
"Like?"
It took a minute for me to think up a good excuse. But, I don't think any excuse would have gotten past Uncle David. "Dad's mission has something to do with my boyfriend. I need to figure out what my boyfriend has to do with this."
Uncle David stared at us, his hands on his hips. "If I said no?"
I stood up straighter. "I'd find a way to leave, no matter what you say." Uncle David smiled. "You know, if you didn't remind me of me, I'd have locked you up in your bedroom with no way out."
Sam moved closer to me. "Does that mean we can go?" he whispered in my ear. "Yes, you can go, Mr. Evans," Uncle David said. Sam eyes widened, because Uncle Davd was more than eight feet away, making it almost impossible for him to hear.
"Oh, I could hear you, Mr. Evans. And no, I can't read mind," Uncle David said with a wink before he turned. "Better get a move on before the cameras turn back on."
00--00--00--00--00--00--00--00--
Uncle David had helped by calling his husband, Ryan. Ryan, a former MI6 agent, let us borrow his private jet (it was so fucking awsome!). I'm pretty sure Sam was jumping on the water bed. Mike was staring intently at the 56'' screen as the ninjas from Kung Fu Hustle flew across the TV.
Blaine, being the awsome big brother, sat next to me. He read to me like he used to when we were little, even if ge was only a year or so older than me. He read "The Girl Who Played With Fire" to me. I didn't understand the mathimetical terms Lisbeth Salander was so easily able to figure out. So we spent the plane ride figuring out Fermat's thereom. I won't lie, it's pretty hard, considering it drove matemiticians over the edge.
Even when we landed, not only was I deprived of sleep, but I had a migraine and still hadn't found the proof.
We drove through the town to the suburbs. I looked out the window and watched children play on their front yards.
Mike had given the directions to a small white house, a light grey porch wrapped around it. The window panes were the same color as the porch and I noticed that all of the curtains on the windows were closed.
We payed the taxi and the others looked at me expectantly. "What? You expect me to go up to them and ask, 'Hey, do you by any chance know why my dad is investigating you'?"
Blaine shrugged. "Well, Blackthorne is on vacation from school, you could say your his boyfriend and he invited us," Sam said. I sighed and rolled my eyes as we walked up to the front door.
A woman about thirty-two years-old answer after the second ring. Her hair was blonde like Zack's. He had her facial features as well. "May I help you?" She had a very strong British accent, making it a little hard to understand to non-spies.
"Yes, is Zack here? He invited us for a sleepover."
She looked a little confused. "He never spoke to me about that. Excuse me."
She closed the door and I counted the seconds until she came back. 200 seconds later the door opened, but it was Zack. "Kurt? What the hell? Why are you here?"
I shrugged. "We need to talk."
TBC....
Previous Chapter