Jesse St. James never needs help when it comes to performing. Even backup singers and dancers are generally unnecessary, considering how easy it would be for him to carry a show all on his own.

But for some reason, there's one song that he just can't get down. Despite all his best efforts, there is one song whose iconic dance he cannot seem to master, even with the almost unhealthy amount of time he's spent studying it, and rehearsing it, and even taking lessons for it. (Lessons from Giselle, anyway; she at least knows the full extent of his talent, and more importantly, his rage, so she keeps the snarky comments to a minimum for fear of backlash.)

And if there's one thing that Jesse St. James is – aside from the obvious answers of multitalented, suave, dashing, and clever – it's tenacious. And so, it was with a heavy heart and the bitter taste of his swallowed pride in his mouth that he contacted several people whose names he had never completely learned (they were irrelevant), and who he had hoped he would never have to see again (because it's not like their paths would ever cross; he was on the road to greatness, after all).

"Hello?" the first voice on the other end asks, sounding not quite as timid as Jesse recalls, but more so confused. Understandably so, Jesse will submit, although he's more than a little disappointed that the small Asian girl from McKinley has seemingly grown a backbone as of late.

Scribbling "Intimidation" off the notepad of coercive means in front of him, Jesse smiles his most charming smile into the phone (for no reason other than simply getting better into character) and greets amiably, "Tina-Cohen Chang?"

There's a slight pause, which Jesse assumes is because of the girl identifying his voice – she must, of course, since Jesse can't see how anyone would be able to forget his smooth tones – before the female replies cautiously, "Who is this?"

Her apparent density – or maybe an automatically uncertain demeanor - is reassuring, and Jesse underlines "Outwit" and "Endear" on his list with a smug grin. "Jesse – St. James. We were in the William McKinley High School Glee Club together for a short period, before I transferred back to Carmel High, just in time to win my third consecutive Regionals Championship with Vocal Adrenaline before departing to UCLA?" he introduces politely, while absentmindedly letting himself wonder if what he did was as douchey as it sounds when he says it out loud.

It must have been, because Tina's glare is practically tangible, even over the phone, and Jesse begins to think that his plan might not be as foolproof and easily taken care of as he'd anticipated. "Yeah, I remember. You broke Rachel's heart, and gave her nightmares for months about vengeful mother hens," Tina spits.

Jesse cringes. He'd almost managed to repress all of those memories of his less-flattering moment towards the soprano he'd allowed himself to fall in love with, against Shelby's warnings for him not to, and now – hearing them said with such venom from one of Rachel's…perhaps not friends, but at least one of her teammates – he thinks that maybe what he did really was that douchey.

That makes things much more difficult indeed. He almost feels the need to clear his throat before answering – but he doesn't, because that's a universal sign of nervousness, and Jesse St. James does not get nervous – but instead says, "Yes, that was me. I really do regret hurting her like that, but it had to be done. Vocal Adrenaline was my Glee Club, through and through – rather like my family, considering that I saw them more often than I saw my parents." Tina makes some sort of noise at this point – Jesse thinks that it's a sympathetic noise, which frustrates him only for a moment, before he reminds himself of the point of the phone call, and doesn't go off on her for the compassion he does not need. "Wouldn't you do anything for your Glee family?" he adds, going on a hunch he has that the girl's terrifying outer appearance is a front for her oversensitive nature.

Tina's silent for a moment, before asking quietly, "Why are you calling me?"

Jesse resists the urge to pump his fist into the air at the sound of victory in Tina's willing and understanding tone, and instead just smirks. "I was hoping that you could help me with something."

xox

The second person is more difficult to get in contact with, Jesse finds as he tries the number he still has saved in his contacts from his time with New Directions (Rachel had made a point of making sure that everyone had everyone else's phone numbers, in case of musical emergencies) for a third time, only to yield the same result – an instant voicemail redirection, indicating that the phone is off.

Facebook is, naturally, the next logical place to look, and Jesse wastes no time in pulling up the profile of his target – only to find it filled with incoherent wall post ramblings about cats, dolphins, birds, ducks, and elf slaves. The post reading "how do you turn on a computer?" is enough to make Jesse think that Facebook was a really bad idea, and he closes out the browser with a final disturbed glance at the blonde girl's profile picture – which shows her wearing a large brown sack of sorts, with red splotches painted on her face while she holds out an orange jack o'lantern basket.

His extensive preparation having never failed him, Jesse turns to Plan C, and again picks up his cell phone. This time, his call is answered - on the second ring – and he can't help but smile at the voice on the other end, simply because it's exactly the same as he remembers it to be.

"If this is someone else wanting to tell me that I'm going to burn in Hell, you forgot to dial star-six-seven, and I can now take your phone number, find you, and sue your ass with the help of Misters Hiram and Leroy Berry," the countertenor voice says, sounding bored, and actually pulling a sort of sorrow from Jesse's heart as he realizes that the particular type of phone call depicted must happen regularly, for that to be the singer's default greeting.

"I'm not going to tell you that at all; I'm very sensitive to the LGBT cause," Jesse responds pleasantly enough, while trying not to laugh at the gasp that he hears on the other end. "In fact, I –"

Kurt cuts Jesse off very abruptly, and very rudely, and Jesse frowns and wishes that he didn't need the boy's help, so that he could fully express his irritation at being interrupted. "Jesse St. James?" Kurt demands, an action which does lessen Jesse's frustrations, considering the way that the other male recognizes his voice without hesitation, or doubt – the questioning lilt at the end of the declaration was obviously added for the sake of adding it, as Kurt doesn't even let Jesse answer before letting in, in a very Rachel-esque way. (Which makes Jesse wonder for a moment if the two divas have finally realized that they're actually quite similar, and have allied themselves with one another.)

"Listen up, St. Douche," (the term of address makes Jesse wonder if Kurt's managed to ally himself with the Puckerman character, as well, as it's a very delinquent-friendly word that Jesse's startled to hear the admittedly enchanting brunette use) "Whatever you're going to try and pull, don't. I don't know anything about the New Directions' or the Warblers' set-lists, or performance set-ups, or anything, so I can't be of any help to you."

The statement's enough for Jesse to raise an eyebrow, as he hadn't been aware that Kurt had transferred to the quote-unquotable prestigious Dalton Academy, home of the (incredibly bland) Warblers, whom Vocal Adrenaline had beaten at Sectionals four years in a row. Then again, his UCLA activities had kept him fairly busy, and it was true that he hadn't had much time to peruse the Ohio Show Choir discussion forums like he used to.

"I'm not going to try anything," he says in his best attempt at sincerity. "I just needed to know how I could get in contact with the blonde cheerleader from New Directions – not the pregnant hussy, the daft bimbo," he clarifies, as Kurt makes some sort of irritated noise that sounds rather like a chipmunk.

Jesse is made absolutely positive that Kurt and Rachel are now some sort of unstoppable diva tag-team by the way that Kurt doesn't waste a moment, before responding sharply, "Firstly, they're not a hussy or a bimbo. Secondly, she's not daft, either, she's just not as generically intelligent as most other people." (Jesse could laugh at the way that Kurt talks about the girls so protectively – almost like Jesse insulted Kurt's girlfriends, which he supposes he did, in a way – but decides not to, as he isn't interested in unleashing any more of the very prominent bitchy side Kurt has.) "Thirdly, their names are Quinn Fabray and Brittany Pierce. Fourthly, what do you need Brittany for? And fifthly, why the hell would I help you after what you did last year?"

Rolling his eyes, Jesse begins with the standard fallback of "I'm sorry," and takes pride in the way that Kurt makes an interested noise that Jesse can only assume means he should continue. "I don't need her help with anything Glee Club related; I just need her assistance with a dance number. I remember that she and Tina were the best – female - modern dancers that New Directions had."

Kurt makes the intrigued noise again, though this time it has more of an Is that so? Do tell inflection, as opposed to the prior, slightly sarcastic Oh really? one. Jesse sighs when Kurt remains silent, and it becomes apparent that he's not going to be of any aid whatsoever unless Jesse tells him specifically what dance number it is that he isn't able to tackle on his own.

"You're familiar with Beyonce, I assume?" Jesse says finally, his voice laced with loathing and a small amount of appreciation for the way that Kurt's managed to make him admit his failure to him, without doing a damn thing.

Of course Kurt's familiar with the artist, and he acknowledges as much with an Mmhm that sounds highly obscene – which Jesse assures himself is only because he hasn't had time to "get any" in an uncharacteristically long time, due to his aggravation with the dance.

Kurt seems to be very familiar with the artist, as a moment later, he gasps again – sounding even more obscene, making Jesse hope to whatever god may be out there that the boy's not in the midst of receiving a blowjob or something equally inappropriate while he's on the phone – before squealing, "Oh my Gaga. It's "Single Ladies," isn't it?"

Jesse's stunned silence must be answer enough, as Kurt makes a point of laughing in clear entertainment at Jesse's plight, and continues to do so for several minutes. Several minutes during which Jesse feels the burning shame of failure and utter embarrassment, and begins to question whether "Single Ladies" is worth all the stress he's being put under.

He quickly finds the answer to be absolutely, not so much because of the number itself, but because of the principle of the matter – Jesse St. James is Jesse St. James, and he can't let himself be bested by a pop song.

When Kurt finally settles, the countertenor's grin is still audible, and Jesse purses his lips in annoyance. "I'll help you, St. James, under one condition."

Jesse's reply of, "Anything," comes too hastily, and is too eager, and the college man chastises himself immediately for showing just how desperate he is for the help. Kurt seems to notice his desperation, as he makes yet another thoughtful noise – this one more along the lines of Oh, so that's how it is – before specifying, "I want to join. I realize that it throws off the entire dynamic of the number, but I do have a long history with "Single Ladies," and I've missed it a lot."

The first instinct Jesse has is to laugh, because the condition is incredibly simple – he's not concerned about the dynamic at this point, so much as he is just mastering the damn thing – and because Kurt's wasted the opportunity he had, which could have easily been used to extort sexual favors from an older, handsome male experienced in sexual relations of the hetero and homosexual natures.

Jesse's second instinct is most certainly not to be offended and slightly disappointed that Kurt didn't request sexual favors, and to clarify incredulously, "That's it?"

Such a second instinct seems to offend Kurt, who makes a noise that sounds suspiciously sulky before mumbling, "The Warblers don't exactly dance…they certainly wouldn't be able to take on Beyonce…they're – we're – more the bob in pace type…"

Shaking his head, Jesse interrupts, "Fine, whatever. And you'll help me with Quinn?"

"Brittany," Kurt corrects dryly, as Jesse pictures the brunette rolling his eyes and tapping his fingers along the side of his phone in exasperation.

"Brittany," Jesse amends civilly, simply to appease the other boy.

Appeased he seems, as Kurt proceeds to respond, "I'll get in touch with her for you. Do you have a specific time and place in mind?"

Jesse doesn't bother trying to keep the sound of his triumphant grin out of his voice as he answers, "The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, this Saturday at 10 AM sharp." Kurt says nothing instantly to argue the point, and Jesse wastes no time in hanging up, and smiling broadly up at his ceiling.

xox

Three days later, Jesse departs from his parent's empty house in Ohio for McKinley High School, and blasts the Beyonce and Jay-Z playlist of his iPod all the while.

When he arrives, at a prompt 9:58, he sees that Tina's already there, and is stretching on the stage while wearing a very appropriate black leotard. She greets him with a wary glance, a nod, and a curt, "Jesse." He responds with a showface and a cheerful, "Good morning, Miss Cohen-Chang."

Four minutes later, Kurt arrives, pulling Brittany behind him as the girl asks something curious about where she is, and how it can't possibly be the school – even though it really looks like it – because it's Saturday; even she knows that. Kurt just kisses her cheek lovingly as he guides her towards Tina – who greets the blonde girl with an even warier look, unexpectedly enough, and immediately goes back to stretching. Brittany soon begins following suit, after slipping off her Cheerios jacket to reveal a matching leotard.

"I'm sorry, is your unitard sparkling?" is the first thing Jesse hears coming out of his mouth as Kurt approaches him, looking very…Kurt in what Jesse can see is indeed a sequined black unitard.

Kurt rolls his eyes, and rests a very bitchy hand on his hip before replying, "They wick sweat from the body, and it's similar to the costume for the original video." The once-over that he gives Jesse's outfit – though it seems more directed to Jesse, rather than the generic black garments from his ballet classes – is disdainful, and entirely unsurprising. (Though it is slightly unnerving, for reasons that Jesse can't begin to fathom, considering that he's Jesse St. James.)

"Yours isn't too bad," Kurt approves, flushing a slight pink color as he quickly turns away and goes towards the other girls, who begin to stand up and exchange giddy smiles with the boy who holds the iPod dock.

"Ready, St. James?" Kurt calls over his shoulder, after setting said dock down on the piano and taking up a place behind the two girls, leaving Jesse the space in the front center. (As he should have, as Jesse St. James is backup for no one.)

xox

Ten hours later, nine of which consisted of drilling the routine over and over and over, and the final one being a short lunch break (during which time the four of them went out to the only decent restaurant in Lima, BreadstiX, for lunch, and actually chatted friendlily with one another), Jesse considers himself to have finally mastered the art of "Single Ladies."

"You're really good, actually," Tina assures him with a kind smile as she pats his arm, before picking up her black duffel bag and draping it over her shoulder.

Brittany, who holds Kurt's hand fondly as she and he stand in the doorway, nods eagerly, and adds, "Yeah, you're way better than Finn. He was kinda gross."

Kurt and Tina share stifled giggles at the memory – to which Jesse can only stare, and try to think of any situation in which Finn Hudson would let himself be witnessed dancing to any Beyonce song, much less the iconic "Put a Ring On It."

"It wasn't as painful a day as it could have been," Kurt submits with a warm expression, despite speaking with a deceivingly snarky inflection. Jesse responds with a slight – sincere - chuckle of his own, and a silence falls over the auditorium for a brief and entirely-too-uncomfortable moment.

"Do you have a hotel room or something?" Kurt inquires in what is probably innocent curiosity, though it comes off a bit pushy and irritating as the male uses his free hand to take up Tina's. The Asian girl standing next to Kurt watches Jesse awkwardly, awaiting his answer with a concerned expression consisting of her biting her lower lip.

Jesse briefly considers falsely confirming as much, for the sake of avoiding receiving further unwarranted and unwanted pity from the empathetic dark-haired girl who had seemed to sincerely care when he'd talked of his parents, but decides instead to give honesty a try – after all, he is a fantastic personality, without ever having to fake it. "No," he admits as casually as he can. "My parents are in Bermuda at the moment, but I still have my key to the house."

His worries about arousing sympathy are revealed to be spot-on, as Tina proceeds to make a sort of cooing Aw noise, and even Brittany looks as though she understands what he said about his situation as she makes a point of gripping Kurt's hand tighter.

Frowning lightly, though it doesn't actually seem to be out of distaste or loathing, Kurt asks quietly, "So you'll be all alone?" Jesse gives a short, intended-to-be flippant nod, but he reasons that it must have actually looked pitiful, as Kurt also bites his lip and gives Jesse a sad kind of longing look – the type that people give to homeless puppies on ASPCA adverts.

Kurt looks out the doorway to the parking lot, where his "baby" – a very nice Navigator, to rival the beauty of Jesse's own Range Rover – is parked and waiting. He seems to be considering something very intently, and Jesse doesn't dare to think about what it is that the brunette's considering, for fear of feeling strangely disappointed should he be wrong.

In the end, it turns out that his fears of feeling disappointed were unnecessary, as Kurt finally speaks up, "My dad and Carole –my stepmother – are away for the weekend, so Tee and Britt are going to spend the night tonight. Feel like tagging along? We could always use a tenor for karaoke, preferably one that doesn't only want to do 80's rock." The last, teasing statement is transparently meant to make Jesse feel like he's not being invited out of mercy, and it almost works.

Except it doesn't, because Jesse St. James knows that old trick. But instead of feeling indignant and affronted, like he usually would, he actually feels touched. And before he can stop himself (or before he can wonder what other tenor hangs out with Kurt and chooses 80's rock), he finds himself smiling, and accepting with a friendly, "All right – but I have to caution you, I have horrible bed head in the morning."

And instead of giving uncomfortable smiles that say they really don't want Jesse there, Tina, Kurt, and Brittany all actually smile affectionately at him, and Brittany extends a tender hand to him. He hesitates a moment before taking it, because he's still that douche who made them lose Sectionals last year.

But as Tina leads their human chain outside, and Kurt begins to warn that "Britt's amazing at DDR – amazing; I still can't beat any of her scores," Jesse thinks that maybe, show choir doesn't matter as much as he's always thought that it does. That maybe, there are more important things in the world.

Like "Single Ladies."

xoxox

AN: So I've had writer's block lately, and decided to draw slips of paper from a hat to try and stimulate my brain. So blame the hat for this, because I ended up drawing Jesse, Brittany, and Tina. (It was either this, or Quinn, Flint, and Sue, anyway.)

AN (2): I had to slip some St. Hummel in there, because it's terribly underrated. (Read: pimping!)

AN (3): I know a whole of nothing about the technical aspects of music, so I have no idea if Groffles and Monteith are actually. I vaguely recall Rachel helping Finn in one episode, and saying that he hit a note that was like a Holy Grail for tenors…?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for weird slips of paper and an olive green pageboy cap.