Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine…wish it was.

Author Notes: At the end of June, I decided to set myself a challenge. And the challenge is simple, every day in the month of July, I will post a piece of fanfiction or a piece of fanart (which coincides with one of the pieces of writing) to my tumblr related to my Glee OTPs and World War II.

Tripping through the Irish Jungle

County Kildare, 1943

"I don't belong on this side of the fence." Kurt yelled at the Irish guard.

"Are you German?" Was the reply.

"Well, yes." Kurt huffed out. His accent wasn't as thick as most of the other Nazi prisoners, after all, Kurt had been educated in England before the war and his mother had been English, so he had grown up speaking it.

"Then you stay on that side of the fence."

"What if I want to deflect? What if I don't want to be a Nazi anymore?" Kurt tried again.

"Not going to help you, buddy." The Irish man replied with a roll of his eyes. Their conversation wasn't new; it happened at least three times a week. The young German was desperate to be on the other side of the fence, but who could blame him. He wasn't much liked by the rest of his fellow Germans, hadn't been, since the moment he had entered the camp.

"What if you talk to the commanding officer on that side? What if he agrees? Could I switch sides then?" Kurt rambled out.

"Alright, kid. I'll do that. I'll talk to Schuester for you. But I make no promises."

"Where the hell are we?" Flight Lieutenant Sam Evans asked his radar tech Artie Abrams. Artie shrugged his shoulders, as he looked at Flight Lieutenant Blaine Anderson, who seemed to be in awe of their surroundings.

"Blaine, you with us?" Artie questioned, nudging the shorter man in the ribs with his elbow.

"Yeah. Sorry." Came his reply.

"Welcome to Ireland, gentlemen." An exuberant voice called out to the trio of RAF pilots. The men seemed to turn as one as they looked toward a man with slightly curly hair.

"Ireland?" Artie asked.

"Ireland." Noah Puckerman said with a grin. "Welcome to Irish neutrality. Please enjoy your stay, cause you ain't getting out of here until the war is over…de Valera's orders."

"Where in Ireland are we?" Blaine questioned, looking around.

"County Kildare." Another man said as he walked up to the group. "Dave Karofsky. This is Noah Puckerman, and over there is Finn Hudson." Dave said pointing at each of them in turn, especially at Finn, who seemed to be standing at one of the outer fences looking like a lost puppy.

"What's his problem?" Sam asked, his brow raised and his hand gesturing towards Finn.

"Misses home, so he says. But we all figure, he's pining for the adorable Nazi officer on the other side of the fence." Noah explained.

"Pining for an adorable Nazi officer?" Artie exclaimed.

"It's complicated." Dave remarked.

"Care to uncomplicated it?" Sam responded.

But Dave and Noah glanced at each other before shaking their heads no. "Colonel Schuester is expecting you. You'll report to him." Dave told the newcomers. "He's in that barrack."

"Reporting?" Blaine said with a frown.

"Just because we are stuck in an internment camp in the middle of Ireland, doesn't mean that we stopped being members of our respected military forces. We're prisoners, not deserters." Noah retorted, rolling his eyes and thinking silently to himself that these men were idiots.

"Ah right." Sam replied. "Of course, that makes perfect sense." With a glance to his companions, Sam turned and began walking towards the barrack that had been pointed out; he knew that Artie and Blaine would follow. They had been best friends since grammar school; they had followed each other into university and on into the RAF. So it stood to reason, that Artie and Blaine would follow him to report to their new commanding officer.

"I give them two weeks before they crack." Dave murmured to Noah as they watched the trio walk away.

Noah gave him a side glance, "Wager?"

"To be determined by the winner at the end." Dave replied, sticking his hand out to Puck.

"Deal." Puck agreed, returning the handshake. "I guess it's my turn to go and collect Hudson?"

"You know it."

"Poor lovesick sod." Puck mumbled to himself as he wondered over to where Finn stood with his body leaned against the metal fencing. "If you aren't careful, Hudson, you'll make yourself sick."

"He saved my life, Puck. And he didn't have to." Finn replied, turning his head to look at his friend in the eye. "He should have left me for dead, Puck. But he didn't. Now he's over there, at the mercy of his of his fellow Germans."

Puck clapped Finn on the back in sympathy. "Your heart is much too big for you, Finn. And Kurt Hummel is going to be just fine. In a few short months this war is going to be over, and you can get down on one knee and profess your undying love for the man."


"You know it." Puck smirked. "Come on, lunch will be on soon. I want to get a good seat."

"Why?" Finn asked, as the pair walked back towards to the mess hall.

"It's Wednesday. That pretty bird from the village will be in to help serve lunch while her father collects the laundry." Puck leered as he thought about how stacked she was; but it wasn't just her physical looks that he appreciated. She was witty and had a good sense of humor, Puck liked that in his women, liked it a lot.

Finn rolled his eyes at his friend, and with one last glance behind him, he entered the mess hall. The room masquerading as the dining hall wasn't that crowded yet as most of the internees were out in the common area playing a pick up game of football, and from what Finn had seen, it wasn't going very well. Both sides were horrible, and the one Irish guard had a gleam in his eye as he looked at the ball. It was only a mater of time before the ball had a hole and the game was finished; their keepers were bastards like that.

As the pair queued for lunch, Finn's eyes wondered across the dining hall, letting them take in the same four walls that he saw on average three times a day…breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even if he was in an Irish internment camp, Finn knew it was better than getting shot at by the Germans or winding up in a Nazi POW camp; he shuddered at the thought of that.

"The Colonel wants to see you after lunch is over, Hudson." Dave muttered in Finn's ear when he came to stand behind the taller man.

"Did he say what he wanted?" Finn questioned.

"No." Dave replied, honestly. "But I have a feeling it has something to do with your German across the fence."

"Why would you think that?"

"I saw an Irish guard talking to him, and I think he's the one usually assigned to the German side." Dave clarified for the other man.

"Thanks." Finn told the Russian man, smiling, hopefully it turn out to be the best news he had heard in a while.

"Move your ass, Hudson." A burly man yelled, "some of us would like to eat sometime this year."

"Keep your pants on, Strando." Dave yelled back. "We'll move when we are good and ready; the food isn't going any where."

The burly man snorted in reply, which Dave answered with a flick of his hand in the other man's direction. Finn laughed at the Russian; even though Strando was a member of the Red Army, Dave couldn't the other Slavic man, and nine times out of ten wanted to punch him in his ugly face. Plus, Strando was pissed because Dave spent more time with the American RAF pilots than with their own people. And honestly, Dave could care less, the rest of the Allied forces were a lot more fun than other Soviets…the non-Soviets liked to play pranks on their Irish keepers and Dave was all for that.

After getting their food with a smile and a nod at the launderer's daughter, Dave and Finn followed Puck back to their usual table, one that had an unobstructed view of the serving line. Usually, the trio of mismatched friends sat together and whoever wanted to could join them, and today, it was the newcomers.

"Does he always look like that?" Blaine asked, setting down is tray before sliding onto the bench next to Finn.

"Unfortunately, yes." Dave replied, answering for Finn. "He's been making eyes at her for weeks."

"She is gorgeous." Artie agreed then didn't waste a moment cutting to the chase. "So what's the deal with you and the fence?"

"What's the deal with you asking personal questions?" Dave shot back, jumping in to defend his friend.

"Sorry, sorry." Sam cut in, "Artie didn't mean anything by it. We're just curious; it's not every day that we meet someone on our side, who spends his time staring longingly at the enemy."

"He saved my life." Finn told the newcomers. "We spot each other down and when we somehow bailed out not far from each other. I was seriously injured and instead of killing me in that Irish field, he saved my life. It was hours before the Irish found us, and we talked…we got to know each other. He's English on his mother's side and German on his father."

"So you became infatuated with the German?" Blaine asked the taller man.


"And there's nothing wrong with that." Puck cut in, never taking his eyes off the young woman behind the serving counter.

"Of course not." Blaine quickly agreed, feeling that he needed to placate the other man. "We were just wondering what the story was. We didn't mean anything by it."

"Good." Puck grunted. "Otherwise, I was going to have to kick your ass and I didn't want to do that. Already spent a week in the hole cause I beat Azimio's face in."

"What for?" Sam prompted. He was curious about what could possibly set his fellow internee off, so he knew what not to do.

"He thought Azimio was checking him out." Dave supplied instead of Puck, who glared at him for his troubles. Dave smirked at the other man then turned back to eating his less than stellar lunch, looked like mashed turnips if he was completely honest and tasted ten times worse.

"I ain't got a problem with carriers or gays. I just didn't like him looking at me, besides I didn't like his remarks about the launderer's daughter. She's a lady, needs to be treated like one."

The newcomers nodded at Puck explanation before going back to eating their food. Eventually, the internees drifted back outside one by one or in small groups as lunch concluded. After busing his tray, Finn made his way to the Colonel's barrack; Colonel Will Schuester made it a point not to eat with the rest of the camp, instead one of the corporals brought his food and cleared it away. Their Irish guards didn't really care all that much, as long as someone else was dealing with the every day situations that seemed to arise between the Allied soldiers, they were more than happy to turn a blind eye to certain things.

"You wanted to see me, Sir." Finn asked, coming to attention before Schuester's desk.

"At ease." Will replied, waving Finn into a nearby chair. "I've been approached by one of the guards. It seems that the German officer"

"Kurt Hummel, sir." Finn cut in with.

"Kurt Hummel has requested to defect from his camp and join ours. Now the guard has talked to camp commander and then he came and talked to me. Commander O'Brien doesn't have a problem with him 'jumping the fence' as it were, but ultimately the decision is mine."

"Really, sir." Finn questioned. The young officer tried his best, but he couldn't seem to contain his excitement at the thought of seeing Kurt every day without a fence and ten feet of grass separating them.

"Really, Hudson. I know you're infatuated with him…hell, the whole camp knows. But I need to know that if I say I won't need to worry about him."

"Oh, no sir. You won't need to worry about him. I'll watch out for him, so with Puckerman and Karofsky." Finn assured the older man.

"Good to hear. I'll let O'Brien know. Dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." Finn said as he stood and all but fell out of the barrack in his rush to tell Dave and Puck the good news. Will smiled as he watched the younger man leave; he might seem heartless at times, but Will knew what it felt like to be in those beginning stages of first love. He was still felt that rush when he thought of his wife back in England.

"They're letting him jump the fence," Finn yelled once he was far enough from the Colonel's barrack and had set his sights on Dave and Puck.

"Really, man?" Puck exclaimed. "That's great. Do you know when he'll get over here?"

"No. But Colonel Schuester said he would talk to the Commander, so I figure in the next couple of days."

"That's really great, Hudson." Dave told the taller man, "Now, Puck and I have a wager going about the newbies…want in?"

"You sure you got everything, Hummel?" The guard asked for what felt like the fourth time. "Once you cross into Allied territory, there is no going back and what's left is gone."

Kurt nodded at the guard, smiling as much as he could at the moment. Once word had gotten out that Kurt was transferring sides, his fellow Germans had taken it upon themselves to show Kurt how they really felt. Now three days later after his attack, Kurt was finally leaving the Axis side; he wasn't feeling all that hot, not with his black eye and bruised ribs. Even in slight pain, Kurt couldn't stop his giddiness, it had been six months since he had spoken to Finn and Kurt had spent time dreaming about what he would say to the other man if he had ever gotten the opportunity to talk with him again. He was almost there, and there was no going back, not that Kurt would have chosen any different, black eye or not.

The walk between sides wasn't that long, but as Kurt and his guards got closer to the metal door of the Allied side, the young German could see a crowd had gathered in front it. Kurt watched as one of the guards unlocked the door, pushing it open as a few of his other comrades stood by, making sure the rest of the internees didn't escape.

"Welcome to the Allied forces!" Puck yelled, as Kurt walked forward into the new side of camp. "We would have had a band playing for you, but Strando's fat ass sat on Artie's harmonica and now he refuses to play it. Personally, I wouldn't either…don't know where Strando's ass has been."

Kurt smiled at the loud month America, letting his eyes wander across all the different and new faces of the Allied soldiers, until his eyes landed on the one face, the one set of eyes he had been searching for. Dropping his bag on the ground, Kurt walked toward those eyes, not caring about anything other than getting to the person they belonged too. And their owner was the same way, if the shoving of soldiers in Finn's way was any indication.

"Hello, Finn Hudson." Kurt said; his voice light, almost breathless as he spoke those words. They weren't the words he had dreamed of saying, but they were the words that wanted to say in that moment.

Finn grinned at the other man. His eyes crinkled at the corners as his mouth twisted into a goofy lopsided smile. "Hello, Kurt Hummel." The American said, before pulling the shorter man into a hug and kiss.

Accompanying Art: http:/ pics. livejournal .com/ lil_grl_lost/pic/ 0000pfxc/