A/N: It's good to be back, Gleeks! I wanted to post last night, but my wireless ran out on me, leaving me unable to update. Before we get started, I just want to thank my awesome reviewers—you guys keep me going when the writer's block gets tough. Please keep the reviews and chapter ideas coming!

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee, the Beatles, or a lime slushie. Wish I did, though. Except maybe the lime slushie. There's enough slush in New York as it is.

On to the story! This month takes us back in time a year, to the March before the Pilot (though we briefly spring forward five months or so). We're back to Tina's POV (I'm trying to alternate between the two).

Lucky Charm

History tells us one thing: Every society has its caste system. Everyone has their place. Medieval Europe had its serfs and nobles; industrial cities their millionaires' mansions mere miles from tenement-house slums. To coexist was to rub elbows with those of a different station in life.

High school was no different; in fact, one could say it was one of the last strongholds of the old system. Everyone knew their place: seniors asserted their dominance over freshmen, and the jocks and cheerleaders were inherently aware of their superiority over all. And they never hesitated to let it be known.

Tina Cohen-Chang was among the lowest of the low: a pitiful freshman, dressed in peculiar Gothic clothes, with an unmanageable stutter and a wheelchair-bound best friend. She was a social pariah, and as such, Tina's one goal for her freshman year was simple and clear: survival.

Tina's survival strategy had one basic tenet: Don't get noticed. Sure, the stutter and the clothes did attract some unwanted attention in addition to repelling people, but Tina endeavored to fade into the background as much as possible. Artie, however, made that difficult in ways Tina couldn't understand.

Sure, he attracted the sort of attention she wanted to circumvent. It was inevitable, really; you just couldn't avoid noticing the kid wheeling himself down the middle of the hall in a wheelchair, accompanied by the weird Gothic girl. Whether you chose to spare them a second thought after spotting them was another story altogether. But in his own, strange way, Artie camouflaged Tina. What jock would stick to teasing her with him around? He protected her in the only way he knew how: by being an infinitely better target. He was her great defender, her lucky charm.

By the time the green crêpe streamers and the tawdry paper shamrocks began appearing in classroom windows, Tina had adopted invisibility with a fervor nothing short of devout. Her days went by much easier when no one bothered her, and today was no exception. Tina had passed her morning playing tic-tac-toe with Mercedes in the back of her math class and doodling in her notebook in biology and English. By the time she was heading to her locker before lunch, Tina was in a surprisingly good mood. Even the weak sunshine that heralded early spring seemed to be cooperating.

"Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting…little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear…"

The song wasn't her usual style at all, but it reminded her of him, and maybe that's why it jumped to mind. This train of thought didn't help—Tina had enough confusion over her feelings for Artie without singing his songs.

"Hey, look who's not wearing green for St. Paddy's Day, boys! It's the stutterbug!"

Damn! Why can't they just ditch school and hang out at Murph's drinking green beer on St. Patrick's Day with the rest of the Lima losers? Tina debated walking faster but decided against it—the thrill of the chase would only egg the football players on, especially that one with the Mohawk, who seemed to see chasing down losers as a matter of pride. What was his name again? Aw, who cares…like that'll stop him from throwing me in a dumpster or something.

Tina maintained her leisurely pace as she heard the footsteps approach her, mentally trying to calculate how many were following her strictly from the sounds of their footfalls. Facing a dead end by the stairwell (and not wanting to provoke a shove down the stairs), she turned around to face a wall of letterman's jackets. Lime slushies…how original.

The jock with the Mohawk grinned as he swirled his slushie threateningly in the cup. "'S matter, Elvira? You shy? I thought you were gonna give us a show or something!"

The other jocks chuckled stupidly in appreciation of his lame attempt at humor. Tina just braced herself, waiting for the shower of icy high fructose corn syrup.

"As the Official McKinley Committee for the Wearin' of the Green, it's our job to make sure you're showing your colors on for this festive occasion," said another jock. This one was bigger than most of the others, and probably smarter as well. He does seem to have a more extensive vocabulary…

"I-I'm not Irish," Tina began, hoping to stall them long enough for a teacher to walk down the hall. She cast an eye around for the nearest girls' room…no self-respecting jock would follow her in there. Perhaps the slushie shower could be avoided altogether.

"E-e-everyone's Irish on S-St. Patrick's Day, S-s-stutterbug!" mocked what seemed to be the dumbest of the assembled jocks, and Tina felt herself take the tiniest step backward before she heard a very familiar voice coming from somewhere down the hall.

"Hey! What's the matter, you guys can't find anything better to do? I thought you usually spend lunch building towers out of food or something…"

Tina didn't know where Artie had come from or what he was doing there. She didn't hear what the jocks said in response to Artie's understated taunt, nor did she care. Her mind was entirely centered on one thought: What is he thinking?

No member of the McKinley High School's social underworld provoked the jocks. It was suicide. Perhaps Artie thought they would go easy on him, being in a wheelchair and all. Tina silently prayed he couldn't be that naïve. Her only consolation—small and meaningless as it was—was that Artie's intrusion seemed to have achieved what he was going for: every one of the jocks had turned his back on Tina. Could her good luck charm get them both out of this dry and unscathed?

"What's your problem, Wheels? Can't we have a little fun with your girlfriend? Who knows, maybe when we're done, she'll sing for us again!"

Tina didn't know why she smiled when she saw Artie's cheeks burn at this latest comment. There was nothing remotely funny about their current predicament, really…

"All right, I'm going to need to see hall passes from all of you. Standard biweekly midday hall sweeps, you understand."

It was that Spanish teacher, Schuester. Tina frowned slightly as he approached. Spanish wasn't her best subject, and she didn't really know what to expect from this man. He seemed almost too good-natured, and coming from someone who spent the majority of her waking hours with Artie Abrams, that was quite an achievement.

"Uh, just stopping at my locker on my way to math," said the Mohawked jock, and the sea of jerseys and letterman jackets parted and started to disperse.

The Spanish teacher fixed his gaze on the two remaining students.

"And do you two have a class to be heading off to as well?" he asked, though in a different sort of voice that led Tina to believe that maybe biweekly midday hall sweeps weren't so standard a procedure after all.

"L-lunch," she heard herself saying, and the teacher nodded. Tina began pushing Artie toward the cafeteria, looking over her shoulder once to see Mr. Schuester facing away from her, shaking his head slowly, as though to himself. She could only wonder what that was about.

"So," came Artie's voice from in front of Tina, "are you gonna finish it?"

"Finish what?" asked Tina, completely nonplussed.

"The song,"he insisted. "You were really good! I never knew you could sing like that."

Tina felt the blush creep straight to the roots of her hair. She hoped Artie wouldn't turn around and notice, but found that unlikely, as she always noticed it when he blushed. It was hard not to; it was inexplicably adorable.

"You should go out for Glee Club or something, with a voice like yours," he continued, and Tina jerked her mind back to the here-and-now. "Glee Club? S-seriously, Artie, d-don't they pick on me enough? Joining Glee Club would be like p-p-painting a target on my back!"

Artie raised an eyebrow. Tina could tell he was holding back a grin, so she continued. "If it's no big deal, w-why don't you join?"

He looked thoughtful, then challenging. "I would if you did," he said slyly, as though he were goading her into a response. His eyes danced like the blue center of a flame, and Tina closed her eyes as she shook her head adamantly. There was something about those cursed blue eyes that had some strange power over her, making her say things against her better judgment.

"Come on, what's the worst that can happen? I mean, sure, you'd probably get kicked off the Cheerios and I'd lose my football scholarship and therefore my shot at All-American. And we'd stop being incredibly popular, and I guess Homecoming court would be a bit of a longshot, but other than that…"

Tina laughed in spite of herself.

* * * * *

He was her great defender, her lucky charm. He protected her from her own doubts, her own uncertainty in a way she thought he wasn't even aware of. It was he who had spotted the sign-up sheet on the bulletin board, he who circumvented her last attempt at a refusal by loaning her a pen, and he who now sat behind the last row of seats in the auditorium, nodding encouragingly and waving as she stood towards the center of the dark and (in her opinion) rather desolate stage. It was his face and only his she focused on as Mr. Schuester signaled her to begin and she stepped forward.

He was the only one who she trusted herself to sing for. He was the only one she knew wouldn't judge.

"T-Tina C. 'I K-Kissed A Girl'."

He was her lucky charm. He would be her strength.

A/N: Wow, March was tricky! I'm still not sure if I'm thrilled with it. Some of these months are really pushing me to think outside the box. As per usual, I will have nothing but love for those of you that review and lots of long distance hugs for anyone who cares to suggest an idea for a future month. Next up: April. I'm not married to the idea yet, but we may see April showers leading into May flowers…