AN: Enjoy your filler chapter, mostly ladies and some gentleman! It sets up some stuff, though.

Just know that Blaine's dad owns where Sam's dad works. And he and Sam are both aware of that. I didn't write as much detail as I'd like because my keyboard is a dick.

And not like, Blaine's dick that you all want him to whip out, but like, a bad one nobody wants around, like Sebastian's. Cause dude, could you be more obnoxious? (No offense Seb-lovers. I get the appeal in theory, but he bothers me.)

Christmas went about as well as Blaine had expected. Burt had made him sleep on the couch (it was bareable with Hamilton there to snuggle with), Kurt had thrown a fit over his father's new idea to use his shotgun as a centerpiece (Blaine had watched the entire thing with grand amusement, eventually getting to put his hand on Kurt's lower back and steer him into a hug, smirking at Burt when Kurt calmed down), and Kurt had gone out of his way to make everything perfect (Blaine has officially decided that Kurt shall be forced to make him hot chocolate every year, a declaration he proclaimed right in front of Burt, not missing the way his face got red when Kurt giggled and agreed). It was kind of fun actually, rubbing how dedicated they were in the face of Kurt's father. It was a pleasent upside to the unfortunate situation.

Of course, there was a setback.

It seems that Burt still happens to be dating the mother of one Finn Hudson, and they just had to stop by.

Kurt had been upset, he could tell. He'd refrained from telling off his father, because if the idiot mechanic couldn't tell he'd done something wrong, Blaine certainly wasn't going to help out. Instead, he'd focussed on never letting Kurt out of his sight, monitoring and trying to figure out what exactly his problem was.

It turned out that he didn't appreciate having to see one of the kids who abandoned him. The moment Finn walked in, his eyes were right on Kurt.

Blaine didn't care for it, havig some other boy's eyes freaking stalking his boyfriend, but the fact that Kurt was pretty determined to keep them attatched at the hip quelled his anger a bit. Finn and Kurt never exchange a word, not unless it was absolutely necessary, and the ridiculously tall boy sent the pair of them glares whenever he wasn't kissing Burt's ass. (And Blaine knows ass-kissing when he ses it. People do it to him all the time.)

The entire ordeal was, at best, uncomfortable, but it was worth it to have Kurt basically refuse to let go of him. So, so worth it.

Blaine smirked as he checked his reflection in his dorm-room mirror. Kurt was right, it had been better then it would have been to mope about Dalton.

Still, he was glad the holiday was over and they were back to their shared bed and the predictability of the mostly rich and smarmy. It would allow Blaine easier control, with Kurt on his turf instead of the other way around.

He walked over to Hamilton's cage, picking up his little companion and setting him in his lap as he plopped hiself down in his desk chair. He had a meeting today, and it had the potntial to be extremely stressful. He tickled under Hammy's (and he will never be caught calling the little guy that outside of his head) chin, grinning when he nuzzled back. His eyes darted to the clock.

He had time.

"Hey, little guy, you wanna know a secret?" Blaine sing-songed, grinning down at the small rodent. (Well, actually, he was pretty large as far as rodents go, but generally small for a furry mammal, so whatever.) Hammy just blinked, and Blaine's come to recognize his blinks as a polite 'go on', usually given with a slightly obnoxious air. He had the feeling that, if Hamilton could talk, he'd have an incredibly posh British accent. "I, my little friend, have a plan."

Blaine opens his desk drawer, shuffling through papers until he found what he was looking for. He pulled it out grandly, holding it up in front of Hamilton.

"See this? It's what I'm getting Kurt, for the day he fially decides to spread those legs." Hamilton made a small squealing sound, which could probably be attributed to the fact that Blaine had grabbe his foot (somethig that always freaked him out, for reasons unknown), but he'd take it as excitment.

The collar was beautiful, after all.

Sam Evans doesn't have too much going for him.

Well, that's sort of a lie. He's pretty hot, and good at sports. He's decent at guitar and an above-average singe, though that was always more about girls then an actual desire to be a musician. Little kids love him. He's a pretty nice guy, not very judgemental, and despite his dislexia, he's got a knack for picking up languages. (Mostly fantasy languages, though he does know a fair bit of Dutch and Spanish.)

Still though, none of that was enough. He's never been able to be more then an average student, no matter how much he tries to study. His all-American charm couldn't keep his father's job, and his ability to connect with children isn't strong enough to keep him from resenting his little brother and sister for needing him to watch them all of the time, which makes him feel like a terrible person in all honesty, because who the hell resents little children for existing?

It doesn't matter how good he is at sports or music if he has to give them both up to focus on crappy jobs delivering pizza, and pizza delivery in itself is freaking dangerous. (He's already been an unintentional drug-runner, and nearly got shot.)

That's why he's where he is, pulling in to the parking lot of the prestegious Dalton Academy.

Man, he'd give just about anything to be able to go somewhere like Dalton. It's got a no-bullying policy, he knows, because he checked it out as soon as Kurt transferred. (They weren't super-close, but he got the feeling he was as close to a guy-friend as Kurt got, and i was therefor his job to have his back.) Not only that, but just what going there would mean for his future...

Nobody graduated Dalton and went off to community college. There wasn'a single boy from Dalton that didn't have a good job, if not a downright fantastic one. He'd love the security, to know that, atleast eventually, he'd have the ability to take care of his entire family.

And, if everything went well, he'd get that opprotunity.

A tall, reitively handsome black man is standing at Dalton's enterance. He nods to Sam, and opens the door.

"I take it you're Sam Evans?"

"Yeah," Sam nods. "You Blaine?"

The other boy laughs, shaking his head.

"Oh no. I don't have the, um, drive Blaine posesses. I'm just here to show you to his dorm."

It's all very sketchy. This guy seems to know why he's here, but he obviously has no intention of telling him. He follows the other boy through numerous halls and stairwells, eventually giving up and letting the awe show on his face. The building is super-fancy, to put it simply.

"Right," David announces, breaking the silence. They've stopped at the ed of a lon hallway, lined with doors. "Blaine's in 152, down on the left. Be sure to knock."

"Cool, thanks man," Sam replies. He walks to the room slowly. He's a bit nervous, because honestly, he feels like he's doing bussiness with the mob.

There's a knock on the door. Blaine smiles, replacing the picture of Kurt's gift carefully in the drawer.

"Come in."

Sam looks a bit worse for wear, Blaine will admit. There are bags under his eyes and the hair...the hair needs some work.

He's still cute though.

"Hello, Sam."

"Hey," the other boy responds carefully. "So, look, the only reason I'm here is because I really, really need the money, but I'm telling you now, if drugs are involved-"

"Samuel, please," Blaine interrupts. "Do I look like a drug dealer?"

"You kinda look like a mini-version of Al Capone. Only, instead of a cat, you have a hamster."

"He's a guinea pig," Blaine snaps, and really, the nerve of this kid. He needs him though, and he's dealt with some pompous people. Sam probably doesn't even realize he's being rude. "But no, this doesn't involve drugs." He sighs. "Look, Sam, let's be frank. You need money, fo your family. I admire that, really, I consider myself to be a family man at heart. So, I wanted to help you out."

Sam nods, crossing his arms.

"Go on."

Blaine smiles at him.

"You see, I'm in the chior here at Dalton, and you, my friend, are in the one at McKinley."

"Woah, woah. I'm not spying."

"I didn't ask you to, Sam. Listen to me." Blaine sighs. Thank God Kut doesn't question him like that, it would be awful to try ad break him of it. "I don't want information about song choices or whatever. New Directions doesn't concern me, competition wise. I'm more interested in the members outside of the club."

Sam frowns, but doesn't interupt.

"What I want," Blaine emphasizes, "is to know the history."

"The history of the members? Like, birthdays and where they went to middleshool?"

"Kind of. Well, not really." Blaine curses himself. He should have picked one of the Asians, or that Latino girl, she seemed like she'd be good at this kind of thing. But Sam just seemed easy to convince. "What I want, is to know about Kurt. I need to know how the others treated him, all ofthe big events in Ne Directions history that envolved him."

Sam seems to understand.

"Okay, I guess that won't hurt anyone on my side, but what about Kurt? Why are you so interested in him?"

Blane just smiles, gesturing to the picture heand Kurt had hung on oe of the walls. The picture is of him grinning, and Kurt kissing his cheek, acting like a complete cliche of a couple. Sam's reaction is petty undestated, just a raise of an eyebrow and a surprise quirk of his lips.

"So, you're Kurt's boyfriend?"

"I am," Blaine admits proudly.

"Then why don't you just ask him?"

Hm. Fair enough, though he could do without having yet another one of the people from Kurt's old life questioning him.

"Kurt has walls up, Sam. He doesn't trust many people, and he doesn't like to talk about those who've issapointed him i the past. That's always been fine with me. But, we were at his for Christmas, and one of the other members of yourcub was there. Tall guy, bit of a jerk?"

"Finn."

"Yeah, Finn. And, after feeling the tension, I'd really like to know what the hell these kids did. That's why I chose you, actually. You're new, so I doubt you were the problem."

Sam wa silent for a minute.

"What's in it for me?"

"I'll personally make sure your father is given his job back. He can even have a premotion."

Sam looked at him for a moment, before offering his hand.

"Deal."

Later, when he's making out with Kurt, (with Kurt having liteally sat himself on top of the notes he was studying at his desk, giving him all sorts of lovely thoughts about doing other things to Kurt on his desk in his future office), he gets a text from David.

"Ignore it," he mumbles againstKurt's lips, but Kurt pushes him back.

"Honey, what if it's important?"

He would have argued, but Kurt didn't call him petnames often, so he was swayed.

"Fine, baby, but if it isn't it's all your fault."

Blaine, we've got trouble.

He frowns at the phone, wonderig what th hell that could mean. Really, he's ivolved in alot that culd turn out wrong. Sam could have called up Kurt's father, or another sophmore could be talking crap about how Kurt was a slutty gold-digger (and oh, Thomas Jefferies' broken nose was just a warning to others, he's lucky Blaine didn't get him kicked out.), or something equally as infuriating.

He was about to text back when there was a knock on the door.

"I wonder who that is," Kurt said with honest confusion, and fuck, this can't be good at all.

"Baby, don't open-"

Too late. Kurt had already unlatched the door, and a hand flew ou and smacked the side of his face before Blaine could even get to him.

"Kurt!" He was atthe door in a flash, pulling Kurt behind him and glaring at...

At some girl. Some fucking little girl, who had the audacity to hurt him, and-

"'Cedes?" Kurt asked from somewhere behind him with a cold voice to hide his emotion.

Blaine froze, his mouth closing before he he'd even begun to threaten this bitch with expulsion from wherever the hell she went. Oh God, pease don't let this be the Mercedes.

"Hello, Kurt," she said angrily. "I see you've found yourself a man." She looked Blaine up and down. "Or maybe just a boy."

He doesn't like her.

Te girl gets pushed aside by a smaller girl, more his size, who smiles brightly at him.

"Hello. I'm Rachel Berry, and I'm sure you're very manly. We'd like to speak to Kurt now, if that's alright?"

He slams the door in her face.

AN: AHHH, this chapter. My keyboard is a dick, and keeps leaving out letters I type. So, if I didn't fill some of tem in, I'm sorry. t happens, like, every couple of words. I almost gave up, I swear to Jon Stewart.

Also, it didn't end with the word perfect. It was supposed to, but I'm sving what I had for the next chapter, because my keyboard is going to give me a stress-induced heart attack if I keep this up.

Anyway, Mercedes is a bit bitchier then Rachel, because I think she is in general.

Question: Jon Stewart or Steven Colbert? I'm kinda equal, I might find Colbert funnier in general, but Jon just has subtle moments of awesome.