Chapter Text
Cover art by Ripaille on tumblr.
Prologue:
“Agent 007, report.”
“White King is secure.”
“Excellent. And what is the status of the Crown?”
“I have it.”
“And when will you be returning to base?”
“I won’t.”
Carmen blinked in surprise as she leaned in close to the microphone. “Would you care to repeat that, 007?”
“I’m pretty sure that you understood me the first time, ma’am.”
“007—”
“I’m taking the crown with me stateside. Do drop a line if you’re ever in the area.”
“Anderson!”
The line went dead.
Chapter 1:
Adam rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he turned to the whiteboard and wrote his name neatly in black marker. “Hello class, I’m Mr. Adam Crawford and I’ll be your new English teacher,” he said in a flawless American accent.
Turning back to the class, he was met with absent chatter, inattentiveness, and two cases of texting under the desk, with only one student appearing to actually pay attention to anything he was saying—a very put-together boy dressed in pale blue and pink sitting in the third row who had just taken a pair of fashionable white glasses out of his satchel and perched them on the tip of his nose as he leaned forward, pen poised to take notes.
Adam immediately started directing the rest of his speech to the boy, glad that his cover was at least benefitting one civilian despite them not being a resident of his motherland.
It had been two weeks since he, Agent 005, had received the assignment of assessing the stance of rouge Agent 007, Blaine Anderson, and retrieving the Crown from him. Q Branch had tracked Anderson to a small town in the middle of rural Ohio state in America, known as Lima, and Adam had made a move stateside in order to find Anderson and report back. He’d been chosen specifically for the job, because he was the one Double-O agent that Anderson had never met, nor knew the alias of, which made him more optimal than say, 006 who’d be sure to send 007 back into hiding again.
Which led to him becoming the new English teacher at William McKinley High School.
“Our curriculum this semester deals with higher-level English literature, including Jane Eyre, The Sound and The Fury, The Once and Future King…”
Anderson was enrolled as a student, under the name of Devon Cooper. He wasn’t even trying.
“Mr. Crawford?”
Adam blinked, straightening against his desk. “Yes Mr. …?”
“Hummel, sir. Kurt Hummel,” the pastel boy said clearly as he sat up straight in his seat. “I was just wondering which grammar components we’d cover this semester.”
“Ah, yes,” Adam said, surprised as he launched into a long speech about gerundives and declensions and the passive paraphrastic, all of which Kurt Hummel took studious notes on.
The hour went by quickly, Adam noted in surprise. Much faster than the first two periods had gone when he’d droned at the prior five inattentive classes. The bell rang to signify the end of the school day and he called out a homework assignment, which only Mr. Hummel seemed to note before turning to straighten his desk.
“Mr. Crawford?”
He turned and there was Mr. Hummel, taking off his glasses and tucking them into the side of his satchel bag.
“Yes Mr. Hummel?”
Kurt fiddled with the strap of his bag, biting his lip nervously. “Um…Mr. Matthews, the old English teacher used to facilitate the chess club every Friday afternoon, and we can’t continue on without an adult—”
“I’d be happy to, Mr. Hummel,” Adam smiled with a nod. “I was actually captain of the chess team at Oxford, when I attended.”
“Oxford?” Kurt questioned lightly, his eyebrows raising.
“Yes,” Adam replied. “I could even offer the club some pointers, if necessary.”
“That sounds interesting,” Kurt smiled sweetly. “I look forward to beating you.” He promptly turned on his heel and left the classroom, head held high.
Adam smirked, the presumption of youth never failing to amuse him.
***
He got everything he needed out of the glee club teacher, William Schuester, and his fiance, the guidance counselor, Emma Pillsbury.
“I just don’t want to stir the pot, so to speak,” he sighed mournfully the next day at them over coffee in the teacher’s lounge. “Being new can be rough and I don’t want people to assume that I’m going to try and cause trouble or be difficult, just because I’m not from around here.”
“Oh trust me,” William assured him. “You’re a saint compared to Devon.”
“Will,” Emma said admonishingly.
“Devon?” Adam questioned, his brows furrowing.
Emma sighed. “Devon Cooper. He’s a new student here, just moved from New York. He’s…a bit troubled—”
“He sent one of the football players to the hospital for touching his laptop!” William burst out. “And I’ve tried reaching out to him—I mean, he’s in the glee club—but he doesn’t seem to care about any repercussions, not to mention—”
“It’s really none of our business,” Emma cut him off. “Devon is dealing with his own problems, but he is a good student—”
“When he shows up to class,” William muttered.
“And besides, he isn’t throwing slushies in kids’ faces like the other jocks,” Emma said diplomatically. “He could be much worse.”
Adam briefly wondered if all schools in America were this messed-up.
***
“Get me Q Branch.”
“Aw, want to talk to your little brother?”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Smythe, what are you even doing back? Aren’t you supposed to be in Stockholm right now?”
“Finished early. And why are you stateside?”
“007 went rogue.”
“Oh that’s right, I heard about Blainey boy. Good for him, he needs a break.”
“He stole the Crown!”
“Who cares? That entire mission was suspect and you know it—”
“Another word, 006, and I’ll report you to Carmen,” Adam snapped.
“Oh you would go crying to mum. Anyways, have fun with the sibling.”
Adam sighed as he waited for the transfer. Everyone in the office made fun of the resemblance between him and the head of Q Branch, Chandler Kiehl. They weren’t related in any way, but that didn’t stop the office snickers.
“Q Branch.”
“Q, it’s 005.”
“Oh, hey Crawford. What can I do for you?”
“I’m going to need a hack dot.”
***
Friday dawned bright and Adam had his plan in motion. He just needed to find Anderson’s locker.
The six classes he had to teach droned on and he expertly hid his frustration as he remained chipper and cool-headed. At lunch he managed to wrangle the location of Anderson’s locker out of a cheerleader. His last class ended and he headed for the locker.
“Mr. Crawford?”
Adam turned, nearly jumping at the sudden voice that was right behind him. Kurt Hummel stood, looking innocent in pale peach and goldish cream, and for a second Adam’s throat went slightly dry as he stared at the way Kurt’s pink lips went so well with the peach of his collar, before he blinked, squaring his shoulders. “Mr. Hummel?”
“You said that you’d facilitate the chess club?” Kurt asked quietly. “That’s in your room.”
Adam paused, briefly considering. This was his last chance before the week was out for him to tap Anderson’s laptop. But he also couldn’t afford to not appear as the perfect teacher and besides, there was something about Kurt that made him not want to blow off his promise. So he smiled and nodded and said, “Of course, lead the way.”
The chess club turned out to be seven kids, all of varying nerd and dork and geek status. The six besides Kurt automatically paired up and started their own games. Kurt sat by himself in the middle of the room, white glasses perched once more upon the tip of his nose, as took out a laptop and began typing.
Adam slid in the chair across from him. “Someone’s not popular.”
“They’re just tired of me always beating them,” Kurt said evenly, not lifting his eyes from the screen. “They think if they train together separately, one of them will eventually beat me, but it’s been three years and that’s yet to happen. I’m just here in case they need a judge, or to see if something’s really stalemate. None of them want to play me.”
“I’ll play you,” Adam offered with a smile.
Kurt’s fingers paused as he raised his eyes. “Really?”
“Set up the board,” Adam said, gesturing with his hand. “I’ll even let you be white.”
Kurt’s lips curled into a much-too attractive smile. “You may regret that later.” He slid his laptop back into his bag and plucked up the cardboard chessboard, fingers quickly placing pieces upon it, setting up the board.
He moved his rook-pawn first.
Adam raised his eyebrows at the unorthodox move before staring with the game.
Six minutes later, Adam allowed himself a smile. Because he had Kurt.
“Check,” he said evenly, waiting for Kurt to make the move that would allow him to claim checkmate, from three different pieces. He had the game.
“Checkmate,” Kurt said evenly, knocking the black queen away with his white rook.
Adam stared at the board. That couldn’t be possible, there was no way…
“Well, you lasted longer than any of them, so I’ll give you that,” Kurt said, tucking a stray lock behind his ear. “But if you want a rematch and a chance to reclaim your honor…”
“I wouldn’t take that offer, if I were you,” a low voice said behind Adam as another student pulled up a chair to observe the game and sat in it backwards, leaning his arms against the back of the chair.
Adam’s shoulders set as he turned, recognizing the first voice from countless transmissions that he’d heard in preparation for this mission.
Looking on at the game’s end on the chessboard in strappy leather boots, tight black jeans, a loose tank top with a leather jacket over it, hair in disarray as well as sporting fresh piercings in his lip, ears, and eyebrow was Blaine Anderson, sending a lazy crooked smile over to Kurt Hummel as played with the little black queen that had rolled off to the side.
“So he didn’t come close to my record?” Blaine grinned.
Kurt’s face dropped. “No, Devon. No one’s beaten your eight minute stalemate.”
Blaine placed the piece back on the board with a smirk before turning to Adam. “You’re playing it wrong,” he informed him lightly. “You think you can beat him, but you can’t beat Kurt. Don’t play to win. Play to draw. That’s the only way to not lose to him. Oh, and never let him take white first, because he’ll kill you.”
“As you learned in every other game that I annihilated you in,” Kurt fumed quietly.
Blaine just smiled serenely at him. “You get scary when you get angry. I love it.” He turned back to Adam. “Don’t challenge him to a rematch. He goes easy on you for the first round, but it just gets worse and worse as he goes on because he learns how you play and then he uses it against you. This game was the best that you’ll ever do against him, trust me.”
“Devon, you’re ruining my fun,” Kurt pouted.
“It’s what I live for,” Blaine grinned, ruffling Kurt’s hair. Kurt sent him a scowl. Adam felt an illogical surge of jealousy. “Though, I promise I’ll stop warning people off of your devious ways…if you can win one hand of poker against me.”
“Deal,” Kurt said, eyes blazing.
Blaine grinned. “Strip poker.”
Kurt bit his lip. “Can I still use my whole closet?”
“If that gives you some measure of security. I mean, I already have half of it.”
“Leaving me with the pastels,” Kurt grumbled, looking down at his sweater. “Fine, you’re on.”
“Excellent,” Blaine said, standing.
Adam saw his laptop poking out of his back and stood as well, hand moving surreptitiously to place the dot upon it. Then he moved to straighten up the chessboard.
“Ready to go, babe?”
Adam looked up in surprise as Kurt smiled, standing as he stowed away his things and allowed Blaine to wrap his arm around his shoulders. The odd pair walked out.
Adam sighed. Well, that complicated matters.
***
That night, he rang up Chandler for a hack on Anderson’s laptop. He kicked back with a glass of scotch as his laptop screen blurred and glitched until it showed Anderson’s and what he was up to at the moment.
It was a chat screen, an extremely secure one at that, between two people. The IP addresses were blurred as were the local points of origin—someone had done an excellent job with keeping their identities obscure.
But once he read the domain names, he smiled. Because he knew exactly who they were.
Black Queen: So I was thinking.
White Rook: Yes?
Black Queen: You should hide the Crown.
White Rook: And where am I supposed to hide it? I don’t have anywhere secure.
Black Queen: Yes, but there’s a problem that’s arisen.
White Rook: Are you okay?
Black Queen: I’m fine, it’s just I think you should hold onto it, at least for a little while.
White Rook: Alright, if that’s what you want. Are we still on for dinner tonight?
Black Queen: Dinner and poker. Prepared to be stripped.
White Rook: Oh, in your dreams.
Black Queen: Why yes, I do dream about it sometimes.
White Rook: Well, why don’t you come over and make it a reality then?
Adam smiled at the screen.
He had them.