A/N: Hi everyone! I know it's been a while, but this story is not abandoned I promise! Things have been pretty busy for me and I've also had some trouble with how I want to write this next chapter. Anyhow, you all have been so amazing and supportive that I've decided to give everyone a little teaser of what's to come while I get my act together:

"Look!" Azimio urged his boss, pointing a dark, beefy finger at the headline in the newspaper spread out on the table of the ostentatious dining room.

Dave swallowed his bite of bacon to read the print before him.

UNSANCTIONED NUCLEAR BOMB TESTINGS IN NEW MEXICO—SHOULD METROPOLIS BE CONCERNED?

Needless to say, the billionaire was unsettled by the article, but it wasn't the fact that the inner-workings of the biggest, most important endeavor of his life was being exposed to the most-read newspaper in the world, it was the byline. There, staring him back in the face—practically taunting him—in small, neat font were the words "by Louis Lane".

0-0-0

"I'll never get tired of that, 'by Louis Lane'." Kurt exhaled dreamily as he studied with article with wide, adoring eyes. When he found that Artie was fixing him with a critical look, he snapped exasperatedly, "What? Like you don't get a kick out of seeing 'Photo Credit: Jimmy Olsen' on all of those front page covers."

"You got me there," Artie conceded, "It is pretty baller. If only I could actually tell people those were my shots."

"Yeah, well, it's the downside of pennames, I guess," Kurt shrugged. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you or waste your time or anything, I just wanted to thank you for coming with me to do some recon with me a couple weeks ago, it seems like it wasn't for naught."

0-0-0

"Fuck, he doesn't quit, does he?" Dave asked no one in particular as he scanned through the piece for the fourth time. "Whether its snooping around my test sites or harassing his spandex-wearing midget fuck-buddy at press conferences, he will not get off my ass!"

"Ironic, seeing as how much you want to be on his ass," Santana chimed in from her place at the table.

"Shut up, Santana," Dave growled before letting out a sigh of exhaustion and frustration. He scrubbed a hand over his face and paused for a few moments to think. "Something needs to be done," he said quietly after a minute so. "If we don't do something about this soon, he's just going to blow the lid off the whole thing and ruin everything. We can't let him keep this up."

"So what are you going to do?" Santana pressed cautiously, frightened as to what her boss could have come up with. Dave was unstable, and even worse, these past days he had been vulnerable, a trait he over-compensated for with brash decisions and violence. She had always thought she knew what he was capable of, but lately with this West Coast nightmare and their "wedding", it downright terrified Santana to imagine what Dave could use his power and influence to perpetrate.

Dave's face split into a sickeningly satisfied grin. "Well, if it's the story he wants, we'll give it to him. He'll get a front row seat to my own personal little act of God, but it will be on my terms, that's for damn sure."

A/N: As you can see, these next few chapters are going to be biggies, hence my trouble with writing them. But fear not, I have recently broken through a bout of writer's block/laziness and hopefully I can get the full chapter out to you sometime soon. Thank you all so much again for supporting this story. By the way, since I've last updated BeccaColfer has done some great fanart for the story so many thanks to her, be sure to go check it out on her profile!

-youngandobsessed