A/N: So, this is part of the Expect The Unexpected series I'm working on, which is, frankly, exactly what it sounds like. As part of my everlasting quest to defy any and all possible cliches, something completely unfathomable occurs with one member of the Glee club in each fic of the series. The goal? To have each character put so far out of their league that they should be OUT of character, but still remain IN character. This is installment number thirteen, but none of them are connected plot-wise, so there aren't any prequels you have to read for any of them. Some will be tragic, some scary, some mysterious, some humorous. Enough jabber - please enjoy!

Smiling Is For Losers

In the doorway to his seven-year-old son's upstairs bedroom, Burt Hummel leaned in to check that Kurt was sleeping soundly, and smiled when he saw that a tousled mop of brown hair was the only part of his son that was visible. Kurt was burrowed beneath a mountain of blankets, shying away from the cool January air that somehow seeped into the house even with the heat turned all the way up. It was snowing outside, and spidery tendrils of frost crept across the windowpane by Kurt's little desk.

"Oh, look at him," sighed Linda from beside him. She smiled, leaning against him. "What do you think he's dreaming about?"

"Barbie dolls, probably."

Linda chuckled, and there was a tiny snore from the bed. "Well, one thing's for sure," she said softly, trying not to wake him. "He's gotten your snoring gene. Whoever he ends up marrying, I hope they've got a good set of earplugs."

Burt nudged her with his shoulder. "You've never needed earplugs."

"That's because I'm practically deaf already," she deadpanned. She looped an arm around his back, watching the blankets shift slightly as Kurt moved underneath them. "We should have another kid," she said.

Burt considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

Linda smiled up at him, tugging on his belt. "Well, then? Come on."

Burt gave her a quick kiss before quietly shutting the bedroom door and following her down the hall.

Only a few minutes later, the frosty window pane next to Kurt's desk creaked slightly, and a pair of hands appeared on the other side, trying to push it upwards. When the window didn't budge, a face materialized out of the darkness and glared through the glass, searching for whatever was keeping the window in place. When the pair of eyes spotted the small lock on the inside of the window, they rolled in annoyance. In the next blink, the lock clicked open on its own, as easily as someone flipping a light switch, and the hands pushed the pane upwards again.

As the window opened, a cold gust of air, carrying a couple of stray snowflakes, floated into the room, making the boy in the bed squirm and roll over. The person on the other side easily slid through the opening, standing up and shutting the window once inside. Quietly approaching the bed, the stranger reached under the pillow and lifted slightly, trying not to wake the boy up. When she peered underneath the pillow to see a tiny white tooth lying on the sheet, her upper lip curled in disgust, and she dropped the pillow. Giving an irritated huff through her nose, she planted her hands on her hips, and said loudly, "Hey, kid. Wake up."

The boy stirred and rolled over. "Mo-oom, I need my beauty sleep," he half-mumbled, half-whined.

The stranger rolled her eyes. "I'm not your mother, kid, now wake the hell up."

Startled, the boy's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright. "Who are you?" The stranger was a woman who stood well over six feet tall, with blonde hair cropped short and jagged, and a severe grimace etched into her harsh features. Kurt disliked her instantly, partly because she was wearing a sky blue polyester tracksuit that didn't suit her skin color at all. He was about to yell for his parents, but then he caught a glimpse of light reflecting off something behind her, and he was able to make out the faint outline of what looked like a giant dragonfly's wing shimmering in the glow from his nightlight.

Kurt's eyes swelled to twice their size and his mouth opened in a huge O. "Are... are you the Tooth Fairy?" he asked breathlessly.

The winged woman rolled her eyes again. "I hate that term," she spat. "For your information, my actual title is Extractor. And what are you? A Christmas elf?"

Kurt ignored what was probably meant to be an insult; he was busy staring at the woman's shiny wings. "I thought that the Tooth Fairy wasn't supposed to wake kids up," he said, still in awe.

She crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, we're not. And if you'd had the common courtesy to put your tooth in an envelope or one of those stupid little treasure chests that you get from the dentist, then I wouldn't have had to."

He tilted his head to the side. "Huh?"

She sighed. "Okay, let me explain something to you, Hermey-"

"My name's Kurt."

"Whatever. There's these teensy tiny things called germs and if they get into your body, they make you sick-"

"I know about germs."

"Would you let me talk?" The woman glared down at him harshly enough to make him shrink back. "There are germs in your mouth, which means there's germs on your teeth, and I am not going to touch your tooth, because I vowed after I survived a serious case of malaria in the jungles of the Congo that I would never get sick again."

"I'm confused."

"Listen, Hermey-"


"-you are not the only kid I have to extract teeth from tonight, and I have a Cheerios routine to work out once I get home, so before you waste any more of my time, please take your disgusting little fang out from underneath your pillow, stick it in an envelope or a doggy bag or something, and give it to me."

The miraculousness of the idea that he was actually talking to the Tooth Fairy was quickly wearing off by this point. Unlike every portrayal Kurt had ever seen of the beloved Fairy, this woman was rude and mean, and for the record, there was a BIG difference between the graceful wings of a fairy that Kurt had expected to sprout from the woman's back, and the wings of a bug that she actually had. He also failed to see what cereal had to do with the responsibilities of the Tooth Fairy, but as much as she was starting to annoy him, she was also starting to scare him a little bit, so he quickly got up and went over to his desk. He pulled a piece of colored construction paper out of his paper drawer and quickly folded it into the shape of an envelope like he'd learned in Arts & Crafts at summer camp, then retrieved his tooth from under his pillow and sealed it inside.

"A thank you would be nice," he snapped after she'd taken it and stuck it into the waistband of her tracksuit.

"You're absolutely right, Hermey, thank you for reminding me why I never wanted kids." She turned back and slid the window open again, ducking outside.

"Wait!" Kurt called.

The woman's head popped back into view - she was hovering at least twenty feet off the ground, her insect wings buzzing faintly.

"What about my money?" he asked.

She scoffed. "I'm not giving you money." With that, she dropped out of sight and vanished into the snow.

Years later, as fourteen-year-old Kurt walked down the hallway of his new high school on the first day of the semester, he froze when he heard a familiar voice yelling from behind the gym doors. "You're all babies! You think this is hard, try living with malaria for three months in the Congo; that's hard!"

A/N: I've actually known for a really, really long time (like, since before Kurt's installment was published) that Sue's Unexpected self was going to be the Tooth Fairy, so I had quite a significant fangirl flail when she referred to herself as "Sue Sylvester: DDS". Anyways, I FINALLY figured out how to execute it, so I just sat down and wrote this in an hour. Any and all feedback is much appreciated. And, of course, check out the other Unexpected installments if you haven't already, and vote for your favorite one on my profile!

And lastly - anyone who can figure out why Sue was calling Kurt "Hermey"? You win at life.