Fic: Lima City Heroes; Episode four: The Grand Diviner
Title: LimaCity Heroes; Episode 4: The Grand Diviner.
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairings: All the main cast; eventual Kurt/Mike, Brittany/Santana, among others. Episode 4 features Mike’s POV at the start, Kurt's all the rest.
Rating: R for the whole thing (might even reach NC-17), Fourth episode rated light, very light R for language, several mentions to sex and Mike being a (completely unintentional) pervert; also, Sue Sylvester.
Summary: Glee AU, New Directions is a secret government project of teenage superheroes; hilarity, adventures (and romance) ensue.
Episode 1: New Directions here
Episode 2: Grand Davina here
Episode 3: And now for someone completely different here
“Why…” Mike was staring; he didn’t know why, but he was definitely staring at Kurt’s ass. “Why are you using your hips so much?” It was not just paranoia, Mike was pretty sure that Kurt was deliberately swinging his hips more than he should.
It had started that morning when Kurt had, for once, come in search of him for some training; only this time, the singer wanted to practice using some weapons from Mike’s, admittedly impressive, collection. The dancer, of course, obliged; any time when he got to see the rookie overexert himself and blush adorably was time well spent, it helped if he could act all knowledgeable, too.
“These,” he had said as he presented a pair of sai swords at Kurt, “are called…”
“Sais,” The short singer interrupted him. “I know; I watched the ninja turtles.” Kurt then had grabbed the short swords aggressively; Mike had been about to warn him not to be too hasty, they were still real weapons, but the new recruit was surprisingly good with them; effortlessly twirling them in his hands. The Asian dancer was then the one staring with his mouth agape; the little one was apparently a natural.
So now they were practicing with spears; the dancer had given Kurt an elegant halberd (that actually was Quinn’s, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her), and the small singer was thrusting with his hips too much-whoa, Mike’s mind may have gone to the wrong (but very happy) place.
“You see,” The Asian dragon started, trying to regain his composure. “With a halberd you’re expected to slash, then thrust; but only thrust with your arms, otherwise you’re only bringing yourself closer to your enemy and getting into the perfect position,” bad choice of words, bad choice of words! “For him to grab you and then he’ll have you under his control…” That ended in a much different place than he wanted.
“Let’s…” he continued after giving some time for his last comment to clear off the air. “Why don’t we continue with throwing items? I may have some daggers around…” He was so busy thinking of anything but double entendres that had to do with the boy under him (god dammit! Stop!) that he remembered, a little too late, that Kurt’s aim sucked.
“You’ve…practiced your aim, right?” He asked as he tried to move behind something, anything; but Kurt was too fast for him and hurled one of the daggers straight ahead of him. Now, Mike was gaping for two reasons: first, the singer had actually hit the bullseye in the first try; second, he had done so almost effortlessly! Seriously, the dancer took a few seconds to aim, at least.
“How…” But this time Kurt interrupted him before he could even get it out… the question, get out the question.
“By-product of wind magic or something like that,” The lovely countertenor answered, hastily adding. “I don’t care what Artie says, I’m not using some-shit-kinesis for everything I do just because he can’t accept supernatural explanations.” Then he slyly smirked (at Mike? At himself?) “Or maybe I’m kind of a ninja and you never knew.”
Mike stared in confusion for about a minute before coming to his senses. “Yeah, right; I actually had to carry you away to save from two stupid thieves, I’m not buying that.”
Kurt just gave him the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen; honest, somewhat shy (without leaving off his permanent pride) and, even if the dancer didn’t think it possible, a little flirty. He was like a cherub caught doing something naughty, and a large part of him wanted to kiss those lips until that smile belonged solely to him; but the more rational part of his brain stopped him, the part that warned him that the countertenor looked at him as a mentor (or tormentor, if you asked Kurt), a friend at most, and he didn’t want to scare the shorter boy, or worse, force him into something they would both later regret.
***
“So, Princess,” Artie started as the blonde climbed down from the unusual machine. “What makes you think you’ll become a solo?” He asked without even turning away from the screens.
“No need to be so formal, Artie;” she responded with the calmest expression on her face. “And it’s that little tadpole I’m worried about; ever since the break-up, she’s been glued to Finn’s side. I mean, I can tolerate being paired-up with her but after you finish the upgrades on the super-suit she’s going to jump at the chance again.”
The former Cheerio sighed, she hadn’t told anyone yet but, right now, she trusted Artie more than she trusted anyone else. “And detective Sylvester kicked me out of the team so Brit and Santana will probably start shunning me.”
The young boy turned, obviously surprised. “What? Why?” He asked, not fully grasping what he had just heard.
Quinn couldn’t even look at him, averting his gaze by staring firmly at her fingernails. It was a couple of minutes until she sighed, more than said. “The fling with Noah…” she managed to glance at Artie, his face going from mad, to furious, to forcefully calm and, finally, to disappointment.
“I told you that would happen,” Oh, God, now he didn’t even dare look at her. “I guess you’ll want to rip your cape a little.”
That oddly brought a smile to the princess’ face. “Going for the fallen angel look?” the young boy known as Wheels sighed and turned to smile at his friend.
“You should be grateful,” He started, extending out his hand in support. “Hardly anyone is on your side, now.”
“After cheating on Finn with Puck, I’ll be surprised if anyone is.” Quinn said, her expression resigned as she took the offered hand and squeezed tightly. “And that’s not even the worst of it.”
“What? Are you pregnant?” Artie deadpanned, which the princess was starting to realize was something quite typical of him. “You got caught almost having sex with him, in public; how can it get worse?”
“No, I'm not pregnant.” Quinn answered thoughtlessly. “Sylvester is coming, tomorrow.”
***
What had tipped off Kurt that something was wrong wasn’t seeing his teammates running around from one place to the other, or detective Schuester yelling into either his radio or at the others, or even Dr. Pills shutting herself in her office (she actually did that twice a week, routine disinfections or something).
No; what really told Kurt that something was wrong, was Mike Chang cancelling his just-before-lunch workout and their afternoon training together.
Now he was worried (and angry, who the hell dared interrupt his Mike-viewing sessions? Even if he, quite probably, had no chance with the tall dancer); from what he had overheard from Mr. Schue something about another detective coming over, everyone in positions, training rooms in order (and something about Mike hiding the weapons) and a final faculty-wide order to “Hide!”
He was about to disregard the order and stay just out of sight when his roommate grabbed his wrist and dragged him along to their bedroom. Now; in any other situation, he would have welcomed such a bold move from the dancer but not when his curiosity was not yet satisfied.
The countertenor was about to complain loudly when Mike clamped his mouth shut, which would have made him throw a bigger tantrum, but then he whispered, “I’ll explain everything later, don’t make a sound.” Kurt rolled his eyes and headed towards his bed, conjuring a small ball of water from the bathroom sink and tossing it between his hands as he made his way to his bed; it seemed he’d have to wait (again) to get some answers around here, just when he thought people would stop being secretive…
Kurt had been tossing the ball between his fingers, turning it into ice, back into water and then into a large bubble when he heard some weird shouting from outside the room. Mike was against the door, attentively listening to whatever was happening out there; the short singer, turning the bubble back into water as he struggled to listen from his bed, whatever it was, it seemed to be getting closer.
Mike pressed a finger to his lips, warning Kurt not to say anything; the countertenor rolled his eyes, at the same time as he was trying to make out what they were saying. There was something about the “Cheerios,” which he knew three girls here were part of; “Figgins,” that was the mayor, and some hair mocking so, whoever it was, she (and it was totally a she) was yelling to Schuester. Kurt strained his ears to try and understand the whole conversation; there were four pairs of footsteps, though only one voice, so Schuester (and the two mystery people) was probably silent while the woman yelled some more.
Suddenly, Kurt let out a yelp as he felt something wet in his lap; his water ball had dissolved with the absence of the concentration holding it together. “Aw, F…!” the short singer didn’t have a chance to yell when he found himself below Mike, the dancer’s hand in his mouth, legs holding him in place. Kurt struggled, this was not part of his fantasies featuring the taller dancer (at least, none he’d publicly acknowledge), but Mike was not paying attention, he was attentively looking at the door. A few seconds passed and the dancer seemed to relax, letting out a sigh that ended up in the singer’s chest, getting out a blush out of him.
So of course the door was thrown open at that very moment, letting through a woman who looked like a cross between Florence Henderson in a tracksuit and a bound lioness tugging at her chains. “Other Asian, what are you doing?!” Behind her appeared Brittany and Santana, somewhat shamefaced and an almost breathless detective Schue, who seemed to have ran behind her.
“Wilma!” She seemed to be addressing the detective. “Is this sexual-harassment-suit-waiting-to-happen your new recruit? I expected something grander, not a lady-boy getting manhandled.”
Schuester turned to look at the dancer, “Mike, give me a good reason.” His tone was half-stern but mostly pleading, they were seriously afraid of whoever this woman was and, actually, so was Kurt.
Mike got off him with a string of excuses. “He was…going to scream…” Both he and the detective looked at the edge of despair, until Schue broke the silence. “…I said a good reason.”
But the woman in the tracksuit was looking a little too closely at Kurt, analyzing every little thing about him; then, as if a light bulb had suddenly turned on in her head, she looked at him with a feral grin. “He must be quite weak, if Other Asian here trapped him so easily.”
“Schuester,” she turned to look at the detective. “I’ve decided I should help you, I’ll take him under my wing so he knows what real team effort is all about.” Her smug smirk was actually somewhat scary.
“I’m sorry, Sue.” The detective took a decisive stance. “I’m not having him out in the public just yet; he’ll train with the best I’ve got and you will not interfere.”
Sue…Sylvester? The detective behind the Cheerios squad? Kurt had no idea whether to be awed or scared; he had no time, anyway, as detective Sylvester motioned Santana closer to her, and had the girl hand her something.
“This,” Sylvester told Kurt as she gave the rookie a card, right after scribbling something in it, first. “Is your exclusive invitation to the Cheerios, I’ll be back later for you.” She turned to Schuester. “And I’ll see you after I have a chat with Figgins, Wilma.”
And with that, she left as fast as she had entered; detective Schuester standing completely dumbfounded for a minute before rushing after her. Mike sighed deeply and crossed to his side of the room. “That was Sue Sylvester, when you hear the order to hide; you hide and don’t make a sound.”
“Still,” Kurt countered, “you were the one who leaped at me and that’s when the detectives found us.”
Mike instead rolled his eyes as he grabbed a towel from his drawers. “I’m taking a bath; you’re off the hook today, I’m patrolling with Cougar Hunter.”
The Dancer had barely crossed the room when it occurred to Kurt. “Why is he called-?”
“You don’t want to know.” Mike interrupted him without missing a beat; leaving Kurt alone in the room looking for spare clothes, his pants were still wet…
***
Kurt took the opportunity to visit Artie again, at least to see if he had the material to make his suit. Luckily, the teen genius was always free to check up on his teammates’ progress and already had a sheet-sized piece of fabric to show the singer.
The scientist covered a mannequin with the fabric and told Kurt to shoot a fireball at it. Kurt did as told and was slightly surprised (but only slightly, he knew better) as the fire reflected effortlessly from the material; he leaned closer, it wasn’t even hot…
“Carbon nanotubes,” Artie explained. “They’re the strongest material known today, though it’s a pain to string it together, let alone make fabric out of it or along .”
Kurt only stared for a minute, realizing Wheels was probably dumbing it down as much as possible.
“I hope you can make the patterns with other materials,” he then warned. “The only way to cut this fabric is with my laser or my titanium-alloy scissors which, no, you can’t have; I’ll lend you the diamond tipped needles, though”
“Will it shrug off water as easily as fire?” Kurt deadpanned, trying to sound the least amazed possible.
“It’s also machine washable.” Artie joked, probably, that was a very cheeky smirk.
***
Training today was kind of dull, though Kurt couldn’t blame it all on his new partner; Finn was sweet in a dumb jock kind of way (and certainly nice to look at) but he didn’t have Mike’s goofy charisma or really pay much attention; he was like a cute clothes-hook, only handing the short singer whatever he needed as Matt (in lion form, as always) only looked with mild interest.
Some good did come out of that session, though; Kurt learned he tired much less when he didn’t have to start the fire, since he was just keeping it alight and manipulating it, he wondered how Mike would react to the news; Finn even allowed the rookie to test how big a fireball he could control on him, donning the incomplete suit Artie lent them.
The newest recruit took the flames from the candle he had just lit, letting it grow large enough to look quite intimidating; he manipulated its shape next, forming a large Chinese dragon twirling in anticipation. Finn stood in position, giving Kurt the signal to let go.
The dragon crashed loudly against the suit and, for a moment, Kurt was worried about his teammate but Finn just stood his ground as if nothing had happened.
“Wow,” he heard from inside the suit as Frankenteen turned to the Lion. “Artie really did finish that cooling system.”
“Wait,” Kurt interrupted. “I could have killed you!?” Matt just hung his head low, as a silent way to acknowledge Finn’s lack of forethought; these things never happened with Mike around.
Wait a second… Why was he thinking about the very flexible dancer so much?
Oh, god. Kurt thought as he realized that maybe, sorta, possibly…he may be falling in love with Mike, or already had…
***
Well, that one took a while but it's still Monday! Mostly Kurt/Mike, too which I' not sure is a selling point or not. As always, comments: good, bad and in-between, are loved and appreciated.
P.S. for pacing issues, Kurt didn't even get revealed to the team as Grand Diviner, which depreses me since it was the whole point of this episode; mostly since the first and second scenes fit much more with the third than this one; said scene will be squeezed in next episode.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed and stay "tuned" for Episode 5: Defying Gravity
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairings: All the main cast; eventual Kurt/Mike, Brittany/Santana, among others. Episode 4 features Mike’s POV at the start, Kurt's all the rest.
Rating: R for the whole thing (might even reach NC-17), Fourth episode rated light, very light R for language, several mentions to sex and Mike being a (completely unintentional) pervert; also, Sue Sylvester.
Summary: Glee AU, New Directions is a secret government project of teenage superheroes; hilarity, adventures (and romance) ensue.
Episode 1: New Directions here
Episode 2: Grand Davina here
Episode 3: And now for someone completely different here
“Why…” Mike was staring; he didn’t know why, but he was definitely staring at Kurt’s ass. “Why are you using your hips so much?” It was not just paranoia, Mike was pretty sure that Kurt was deliberately swinging his hips more than he should.
It had started that morning when Kurt had, for once, come in search of him for some training; only this time, the singer wanted to practice using some weapons from Mike’s, admittedly impressive, collection. The dancer, of course, obliged; any time when he got to see the rookie overexert himself and blush adorably was time well spent, it helped if he could act all knowledgeable, too.
“These,” he had said as he presented a pair of sai swords at Kurt, “are called…”
“Sais,” The short singer interrupted him. “I know; I watched the ninja turtles.” Kurt then had grabbed the short swords aggressively; Mike had been about to warn him not to be too hasty, they were still real weapons, but the new recruit was surprisingly good with them; effortlessly twirling them in his hands. The Asian dancer was then the one staring with his mouth agape; the little one was apparently a natural.
So now they were practicing with spears; the dancer had given Kurt an elegant halberd (that actually was Quinn’s, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her), and the small singer was thrusting with his hips too much-whoa, Mike’s mind may have gone to the wrong (but very happy) place.
“You see,” The Asian dragon started, trying to regain his composure. “With a halberd you’re expected to slash, then thrust; but only thrust with your arms, otherwise you’re only bringing yourself closer to your enemy and getting into the perfect position,” bad choice of words, bad choice of words! “For him to grab you and then he’ll have you under his control…” That ended in a much different place than he wanted.
“Let’s…” he continued after giving some time for his last comment to clear off the air. “Why don’t we continue with throwing items? I may have some daggers around…” He was so busy thinking of anything but double entendres that had to do with the boy under him (god dammit! Stop!) that he remembered, a little too late, that Kurt’s aim sucked.
“You’ve…practiced your aim, right?” He asked as he tried to move behind something, anything; but Kurt was too fast for him and hurled one of the daggers straight ahead of him. Now, Mike was gaping for two reasons: first, the singer had actually hit the bullseye in the first try; second, he had done so almost effortlessly! Seriously, the dancer took a few seconds to aim, at least.
“How…” But this time Kurt interrupted him before he could even get it out… the question, get out the question.
“By-product of wind magic or something like that,” The lovely countertenor answered, hastily adding. “I don’t care what Artie says, I’m not using some-shit-kinesis for everything I do just because he can’t accept supernatural explanations.” Then he slyly smirked (at Mike? At himself?) “Or maybe I’m kind of a ninja and you never knew.”
Mike stared in confusion for about a minute before coming to his senses. “Yeah, right; I actually had to carry you away to save from two stupid thieves, I’m not buying that.”
Kurt just gave him the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen; honest, somewhat shy (without leaving off his permanent pride) and, even if the dancer didn’t think it possible, a little flirty. He was like a cherub caught doing something naughty, and a large part of him wanted to kiss those lips until that smile belonged solely to him; but the more rational part of his brain stopped him, the part that warned him that the countertenor looked at him as a mentor (or tormentor, if you asked Kurt), a friend at most, and he didn’t want to scare the shorter boy, or worse, force him into something they would both later regret.
***
“So, Princess,” Artie started as the blonde climbed down from the unusual machine. “What makes you think you’ll become a solo?” He asked without even turning away from the screens.
“No need to be so formal, Artie;” she responded with the calmest expression on her face. “And it’s that little tadpole I’m worried about; ever since the break-up, she’s been glued to Finn’s side. I mean, I can tolerate being paired-up with her but after you finish the upgrades on the super-suit she’s going to jump at the chance again.”
The former Cheerio sighed, she hadn’t told anyone yet but, right now, she trusted Artie more than she trusted anyone else. “And detective Sylvester kicked me out of the team so Brit and Santana will probably start shunning me.”
The young boy turned, obviously surprised. “What? Why?” He asked, not fully grasping what he had just heard.
Quinn couldn’t even look at him, averting his gaze by staring firmly at her fingernails. It was a couple of minutes until she sighed, more than said. “The fling with Noah…” she managed to glance at Artie, his face going from mad, to furious, to forcefully calm and, finally, to disappointment.
“I told you that would happen,” Oh, God, now he didn’t even dare look at her. “I guess you’ll want to rip your cape a little.”
That oddly brought a smile to the princess’ face. “Going for the fallen angel look?” the young boy known as Wheels sighed and turned to smile at his friend.
“You should be grateful,” He started, extending out his hand in support. “Hardly anyone is on your side, now.”
“After cheating on Finn with Puck, I’ll be surprised if anyone is.” Quinn said, her expression resigned as she took the offered hand and squeezed tightly. “And that’s not even the worst of it.”
“What? Are you pregnant?” Artie deadpanned, which the princess was starting to realize was something quite typical of him. “You got caught almost having sex with him, in public; how can it get worse?”
“No, I'm not pregnant.” Quinn answered thoughtlessly. “Sylvester is coming, tomorrow.”
***
What had tipped off Kurt that something was wrong wasn’t seeing his teammates running around from one place to the other, or detective Schuester yelling into either his radio or at the others, or even Dr. Pills shutting herself in her office (she actually did that twice a week, routine disinfections or something).
No; what really told Kurt that something was wrong, was Mike Chang cancelling his just-before-lunch workout and their afternoon training together.
Now he was worried (and angry, who the hell dared interrupt his Mike-viewing sessions? Even if he, quite probably, had no chance with the tall dancer); from what he had overheard from Mr. Schue something about another detective coming over, everyone in positions, training rooms in order (and something about Mike hiding the weapons) and a final faculty-wide order to “Hide!”
He was about to disregard the order and stay just out of sight when his roommate grabbed his wrist and dragged him along to their bedroom. Now; in any other situation, he would have welcomed such a bold move from the dancer but not when his curiosity was not yet satisfied.
The countertenor was about to complain loudly when Mike clamped his mouth shut, which would have made him throw a bigger tantrum, but then he whispered, “I’ll explain everything later, don’t make a sound.” Kurt rolled his eyes and headed towards his bed, conjuring a small ball of water from the bathroom sink and tossing it between his hands as he made his way to his bed; it seemed he’d have to wait (again) to get some answers around here, just when he thought people would stop being secretive…
Kurt had been tossing the ball between his fingers, turning it into ice, back into water and then into a large bubble when he heard some weird shouting from outside the room. Mike was against the door, attentively listening to whatever was happening out there; the short singer, turning the bubble back into water as he struggled to listen from his bed, whatever it was, it seemed to be getting closer.
Mike pressed a finger to his lips, warning Kurt not to say anything; the countertenor rolled his eyes, at the same time as he was trying to make out what they were saying. There was something about the “Cheerios,” which he knew three girls here were part of; “Figgins,” that was the mayor, and some hair mocking so, whoever it was, she (and it was totally a she) was yelling to Schuester. Kurt strained his ears to try and understand the whole conversation; there were four pairs of footsteps, though only one voice, so Schuester (and the two mystery people) was probably silent while the woman yelled some more.
Suddenly, Kurt let out a yelp as he felt something wet in his lap; his water ball had dissolved with the absence of the concentration holding it together. “Aw, F…!” the short singer didn’t have a chance to yell when he found himself below Mike, the dancer’s hand in his mouth, legs holding him in place. Kurt struggled, this was not part of his fantasies featuring the taller dancer (at least, none he’d publicly acknowledge), but Mike was not paying attention, he was attentively looking at the door. A few seconds passed and the dancer seemed to relax, letting out a sigh that ended up in the singer’s chest, getting out a blush out of him.
So of course the door was thrown open at that very moment, letting through a woman who looked like a cross between Florence Henderson in a tracksuit and a bound lioness tugging at her chains. “Other Asian, what are you doing?!” Behind her appeared Brittany and Santana, somewhat shamefaced and an almost breathless detective Schue, who seemed to have ran behind her.
“Wilma!” She seemed to be addressing the detective. “Is this sexual-harassment-suit-waiting-to-happen your new recruit? I expected something grander, not a lady-boy getting manhandled.”
Schuester turned to look at the dancer, “Mike, give me a good reason.” His tone was half-stern but mostly pleading, they were seriously afraid of whoever this woman was and, actually, so was Kurt.
Mike got off him with a string of excuses. “He was…going to scream…” Both he and the detective looked at the edge of despair, until Schue broke the silence. “…I said a good reason.”
But the woman in the tracksuit was looking a little too closely at Kurt, analyzing every little thing about him; then, as if a light bulb had suddenly turned on in her head, she looked at him with a feral grin. “He must be quite weak, if Other Asian here trapped him so easily.”
“Schuester,” she turned to look at the detective. “I’ve decided I should help you, I’ll take him under my wing so he knows what real team effort is all about.” Her smug smirk was actually somewhat scary.
“I’m sorry, Sue.” The detective took a decisive stance. “I’m not having him out in the public just yet; he’ll train with the best I’ve got and you will not interfere.”
Sue…Sylvester? The detective behind the Cheerios squad? Kurt had no idea whether to be awed or scared; he had no time, anyway, as detective Sylvester motioned Santana closer to her, and had the girl hand her something.
“This,” Sylvester told Kurt as she gave the rookie a card, right after scribbling something in it, first. “Is your exclusive invitation to the Cheerios, I’ll be back later for you.” She turned to Schuester. “And I’ll see you after I have a chat with Figgins, Wilma.”
And with that, she left as fast as she had entered; detective Schuester standing completely dumbfounded for a minute before rushing after her. Mike sighed deeply and crossed to his side of the room. “That was Sue Sylvester, when you hear the order to hide; you hide and don’t make a sound.”
“Still,” Kurt countered, “you were the one who leaped at me and that’s when the detectives found us.”
Mike instead rolled his eyes as he grabbed a towel from his drawers. “I’m taking a bath; you’re off the hook today, I’m patrolling with Cougar Hunter.”
The Dancer had barely crossed the room when it occurred to Kurt. “Why is he called-?”
“You don’t want to know.” Mike interrupted him without missing a beat; leaving Kurt alone in the room looking for spare clothes, his pants were still wet…
***
Kurt took the opportunity to visit Artie again, at least to see if he had the material to make his suit. Luckily, the teen genius was always free to check up on his teammates’ progress and already had a sheet-sized piece of fabric to show the singer.
The scientist covered a mannequin with the fabric and told Kurt to shoot a fireball at it. Kurt did as told and was slightly surprised (but only slightly, he knew better) as the fire reflected effortlessly from the material; he leaned closer, it wasn’t even hot…
“Carbon nanotubes,” Artie explained. “They’re the strongest material known today, though it’s a pain to string it together, let alone make fabric out of it or along .”
Kurt only stared for a minute, realizing Wheels was probably dumbing it down as much as possible.
“I hope you can make the patterns with other materials,” he then warned. “The only way to cut this fabric is with my laser or my titanium-alloy scissors which, no, you can’t have; I’ll lend you the diamond tipped needles, though”
“Will it shrug off water as easily as fire?” Kurt deadpanned, trying to sound the least amazed possible.
“It’s also machine washable.” Artie joked, probably, that was a very cheeky smirk.
***
Training today was kind of dull, though Kurt couldn’t blame it all on his new partner; Finn was sweet in a dumb jock kind of way (and certainly nice to look at) but he didn’t have Mike’s goofy charisma or really pay much attention; he was like a cute clothes-hook, only handing the short singer whatever he needed as Matt (in lion form, as always) only looked with mild interest.
Some good did come out of that session, though; Kurt learned he tired much less when he didn’t have to start the fire, since he was just keeping it alight and manipulating it, he wondered how Mike would react to the news; Finn even allowed the rookie to test how big a fireball he could control on him, donning the incomplete suit Artie lent them.
The newest recruit took the flames from the candle he had just lit, letting it grow large enough to look quite intimidating; he manipulated its shape next, forming a large Chinese dragon twirling in anticipation. Finn stood in position, giving Kurt the signal to let go.
The dragon crashed loudly against the suit and, for a moment, Kurt was worried about his teammate but Finn just stood his ground as if nothing had happened.
“Wow,” he heard from inside the suit as Frankenteen turned to the Lion. “Artie really did finish that cooling system.”
“Wait,” Kurt interrupted. “I could have killed you!?” Matt just hung his head low, as a silent way to acknowledge Finn’s lack of forethought; these things never happened with Mike around.
Wait a second… Why was he thinking about the very flexible dancer so much?
Oh, god. Kurt thought as he realized that maybe, sorta, possibly…he may be falling in love with Mike, or already had…
***
Well, that one took a while but it's still Monday! Mostly Kurt/Mike, too which I' not sure is a selling point or not. As always, comments: good, bad and in-between, are loved and appreciated.
P.S. for pacing issues, Kurt didn't even get revealed to the team as Grand Diviner, which depreses me since it was the whole point of this episode; mostly since the first and second scenes fit much more with the third than this one; said scene will be squeezed in next episode.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed and stay "tuned" for Episode 5: Defying Gravity