You all wanted a longer chapter. Well, I'm giving you a long ass chapter! lol LOTS happens in this. Hope you enjoy!

Meetings

"Guys, Nationals is in two weeks. We need to come up with something. Now think, there has to be something that we're missing!" Mr. Schuester paced in front of the piano, running one hand through his hair. His newest side-kick, Holly Holiday, lounged on the piano's seat and turned languidly toward the club as she said, "What your crazed coach is trying to say is that the answer is right in front of you. It's probably so obvious that you'll laugh when you think about it. Any takers?"

"Don't worry," Santana said unexcitedly from her chair, not even bothering to look up as she spoke. Studying her nails she said, "The girls have it figured out."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Finn asked dejectedly. He crossed his arms over his chest with a banner look of discontent. Santana only smirked. "Hudson, it means exactly what it sounds like. We are going to solve this. So, no worries. Let's just sing another Journey song and you can awkwardly stalk around the room like you usually do in an attempt to appear sexy. Business as usual."

Despite Rachel's former undying love for Finn Hudson, she had to laugh at that remark.

"What do you mean the girls will figure it out?" Puck pressed, leaning forward in his seat. "I know a Santana scheme when I hear one."

This caught Santana's attention and she looked over at him with a withering look and sighed, "If that were true Puckerman, you would have never cheated with me last year. Because it was clearly a power play." He scowled. "And there is no scheme. Why we-" she gestured to the girls-"are going to find the song has a perfectly logical explanation. We have the prodigy." Beside her Brittany slowly raised her hand. Santana gave her one strange look and shook her head, "I mean we have Rachel."

"Technically Rachel is too old to be a prodigy," Holly pointed out from her perch on the bench. "But you have a point."

"Good, then it's decided," Santana announced, but she had the good sense to look to Schuester for approval. He deferred to Rachel and she nodded curtly. Yes, she could find them a song. Correction: Her and Jesse could find them a song.

Oh, the fine print on this one was problematic.

"Alright," Schuester said, nodding his head. "Good, um, I want you guys to report back to me by Friday."

"Easy peasy," Santana answered with a chesire grin.


Rachel sat at the Lima Bean, picking nervously at her cuticle. She was not an anxious person. In fact, she was accustomed to being collected, completely in control. This newfound anxiety which made her pick at her formerly smooth cuticles, was something entirely new. And he was all to blame for it. He made her pick at her cuticles; toss and turn; sing angsty songs in the shower. Even her fathers had noticed. They had said, "You're singing more Alanis than normal, sweetheart. Everything okay?"

He was ruining everything. This was supposed to her year. The never-ending story of her and Finn had finally come to a close and she had taken control of her life. She had refocused, reprioritized. And then he came and shook everything up.

"Shit," she said under her breath, blood blooming at the base of her nail bed. She pressed a napkin to it, gnawing on her lip.

"Since when do you pick your cuticles?"

She looked up and smiled at him. "Hello Kurt."

"You're going to ruin your nails, you know."

"Nice to see you, too."

He grinned and sat down, reaching across the table to squeeze her one not bleeding hand. "So, what's up?"

"Okay, I need to talk through something with you. But you can't judge." Kurt frowned and said, "I already don't like the sound of this."

"I need someone to talk to," Rachel pleaded. "And I can't talk about this with people from the team because they're already too biased. And my dads are sort of oblivious in this area."

"Please don't tell me you're pregnant."

Immediately she bristled and snapped, "Why would you think that?"

"Well, New Directions has a track record."

"I am not pregnant," she assured him. "I've just been talking to Jesse."

"Oh my God," Kurt droned. "That's even worse."

"Worse than an impending pregnancy?"

"Um yeah," Kurt said. "At least babies don't throw eggs at you."

"They spit peas."

"Yes, but they don't mean it."

"Okay, whatever!" Rachel said hurriedly, shaking her head. He went to say something else but she silenced him with one jerk of her hand. "You promised you would not judge. I just need you to listen."

"And I would agree to this why?"

"Because I am going insane," she said. She looked down at her finger, the blood dried at her cuticle. Pushing the napkin to the side she told him softly, "And I have no one else to talk with."

"Fine," he sighed. "Tell me."

She described how they met again. Rolling in the Deep. Sharp retorts. She told him all about Santana and the phone call. The ruse that she was becoming more and more determined would be the end of them all. Kurt nodded, doing relatively well at keeping a neutral visage. After she was finished he took a moment and said, "Well, I'll be damned."

"Huh?"

"Mercedes is right," Kurt said. "As far as I can tell, Jesse's intentions seem relatively genuine. Well, if you don't count him trying to get you back."

"He's not," Rachel said immediately, although the words sounded false even to her. "That would involve Jesse being able to actually experience emotion. Which we all saw wasn't true last year."

"Come on Rachel, you can't be that blind," Kurt said. "And as for last year, the guy was clearly into you. You just had Finn-Hudson-Goggles on."

"Then why did he screw me over?" she snapped, shaking her head. None of this made sense. In fact, nothing with him ever did and she was beginning to tire of the endless guessing. With Finn it had been easy. With Puck, even easier. This was too much for her.

"I don't know why he did what he did," Kurt said. "But I saw the way he looked after the whole Run Joey Run debacle. He was crushed."

"He was acting," Rachel said, still not willing to let herself fall into the obvious. If she actually accepted that Jesse did care for her, it made everything that happened even worse. It was more of a betrayal if what they shared was real.

"Maybe," Kurt admitted. "But if he was, why is he helping you now?"

Million dollar question, she thought.

"Now, on to the important part of all of this," Kurt said, gaining her attention. She looked at him oddly and he said, "I want in on this meeting."

"You're not in New Directions," she said slowly.

"Yeah, but this sounds too good to miss."

"Fine," she sighed. "Jesse being there will make it weird enough. Might as well bring in more former competition."

Kurt grinned. "Is it bad that I'm excited for this?"

"Yes, and completely unfair."

While Rachel looked positively morose, Kurt was beaming as he clapped his hands together and announced, "This will be fun!"


Wednesday.

Most people referred to the hump of the week by that name, Rachel preferred to call it D-Day. That's what it was, after all. It was the day that would start everything. Jesse would be hurled back in her life, no longer just an occasional text and foggy dream. He would be sitting in her living room, his eyes scanning over pictures and furniture that were the make-up of her world. He would weed his way into her very existence again and then everything would fall apart before it came together. Because Jesse St James only brought destruction and chaos. She would be a fool to think otherwise.

She was nervous and it made her act strangely. The entire day she remained silent, drawing the questioning glances of the male counterparts of New Directions.

"You have nothing to add, Rachel?" Mr. Schuester asked in confusion. Her hands folded demurely on her lap, fingers folded under to hide her ragged cuticles, she shook her head. No, she had nothing to say. Only that Jesse St James would be in her living room in just a few hours and it scared her more than she could admit. But they wouldn't want to hear that.

"You're giving us away," Quinn said, standing beside Rachel at her locker after rehearsal.

"I'm just tired," Rachel lied.

"You're never tired. In fact, you're annoyingly perky."

"Whatever."

"Finn thinks something is going on," Quinn told her, shifting uncomfortably beside her. "He's going to come and talk to you."

Rachel knew about the delicate state of Quinn and Finn's relationship. She also noticed the way he looked at her during rehearsal and thought that it was probably a Herculean effort on Quinn's part to even tell Rachel this. Still, she couldn't help herself asking, "Does it bother you that he's going to talk with me?"

A crease formed between Quinn's eyebrows as she frowned. "Just don't ruin this for us, okay?"

Rachel felt a stab of guilt as Quinn walked away. She knew what it felt like to be goaded, baited. After a slight hesitation she called after her. Quinn didn't want to turn, that much was evident by the stiffness of her back, but she did anyway. "I done with him," Rachel told her.

Quinn smiled then, a bitter smile, and said, "Of course you are."


Like clockwork, Finn appeared. He walked toward her at lunch, sitting opposite her. She thought of how just weeks ago this would have thrilled her. She would have been smiling into her salad, unable to stop herself from gabbling on about this or that. Now she was just sorry that his tall form was blocking the sunlight.

"Hello Finn," she said properly, giving him a tight grin.

"I know something's going on."

"Nothing is going on," she said immediately, meeting his eyes levelly. "The girls are just taking on a little extra for Nationals."

"We should pick out the song together," Finn held. "That's how we've always done it."

"And look how well that's been turning out lately," she shot back. "We've come up with nothing, Finn. Just let us try this."

He studied her face while he stayed silent for just a moment. He was never good at reading her but even he could pick up that something was off. "You're not telling me something," he accused. "I can see it."

"Well, then you're just seeing things," Rachel answered. "Because I have nothing to hide." He wasn't convinced and she sighed, gathering her long hair in her hand and drawing it over her left shoulder. "You still don't believe me."

"No, I don't."

"Well, that's just too bad. I have nothing left to tell you that will convince you that I am telling the truth."

"Maybe it's because you're not."

Rachel frowned. "You should take your own advice, Finn. Because it seems like all your attempts to convince Quinn you love her aren't working either."

He had no response to that and she stabbed at her salad irritably, tapping her foot on her chair beneath the table. "If you don't mind, Finn, I'd like to finish my lunch alone."

He stood grudgingly, pushing the chair back into the table. She watched him leave and sighed softly. Finn would no doubt mention his concerns to Puck who would be much harder to drive away. Keeping Jesse a secret was not going to be easy.


Kurt was the first to show up at her house, nearly bouncing with excitement. She hated him for being so damn happy about it all when she was one step away from locking herself in the bathroom and not coming out at all. She had decided that she didn't want to see Jesse. She didn't want to text him, either. She wanted him to go back to UCLA and be nothing but a bad memory, like before. That was how it was supposed to be, not him gallivanting around with his charm and innuendo.

It was maddening the way he just waltzed back in without even bothering to check if it was alright with her. And it wasn't. Not a bit.

"Your hair is different," Kurt remarked, eyeing her deeper side part. "And don't even try to say you didn't do it for him."

"I didn't," she answered. Yes, he had always liked the deeper side part. And yes, she had thought of him momentarily as she brushed her hair out. But these were merely coincidences.

"You also have more perfume on," Kurt noted. "Could you be anymore obvious, Rachel?"

"Oh shut up," she huffed, dropping onto the couch.

"When is everyone else getting here?"

"Soon, I had them come earlier so that I can give them them talk." He raised his eyebrows in question. "You know, no verbal assault. No slaps from Santana."

Kurt smiled slightly. "You're protective."

"I just don't want anymore drama today than there has to be," Rachel supplied.

There was a knock on the door and she rose from the couch, scurrying over to open the door and reveal Quinn, Santana, and Brittany. Behind them she saw Mercedes and Tina climbing from Mercedes' mother's car. Santana pushed past Rachel into her house, looking around as she remarked, "I never thought the day would come when I would be in Rachel Berry's house. It's sort of nauseating."

Rachel chose to ignore the remark as she ushered Tina and Mercedes in. "Alright, I need to talk to you all before Jesse gets here. We all need to be nice, okay? He offered to help and it is only fair that we behave accordingly."

Santana leaned forward a bit and scrunched her nose as she said, "Berry, did you bathe in your perfume or something?"

Rachel glared at her and said, "Let's just all play nice. He'll be here any minute so, um, prepare yourselves."

"Prepare yourself," Santana answered. "You're the only one freaking out."

A sharp knock on the door and Rachel set her face into a steady look of cool indifference and walked over, opening the door to reveal none other than the man of the hour. He offered her an alarmingly warm smile, one that even reached his eyes, but all she gave in return was a stiff hello. His lips pressed into a smirk as he remarked, "Aren't we formal?"

"Would you like to come in?"
"Yes," he answered slowly. "That is the general idea. Can't help you from the stoop, can I?"

She saw the stupidity of her question and stepped aside, blinking quickly as her cheeks flushed red. He sensed her embarrassment but had the good sense not to comment on it. Stepping into the living room he offered a proper hello to the rest of the group. Their only response was to stare.

"Tough crowd," he joked.

"Let's just get to work," Rachel said crisply, gesturing for him to sit on a kitchen table chair she had dragged in previously. He sat down after pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket.

"I have some ideas," Jesse said. Rachel noticed that he was the only one not on the couch, sitting alone before all of them. It resembled a sort of firing squad, all of New Directions (plus the former member) squaring off against the obvious intruder. Rachel almost felt bad for him in that respect.

Almost.

"Let's hear them," Mercedes said.

He read a number of songs off, to which nearly everyone shook their heads. They were primarily Broadway and after the fifth song hailing from the stage Quinn asked, "Do you have anything not with jazz hands?"

He flipped the sheet of paper over and said, "This is actually my favorite. You guys did rock before and it worked. A mash-up of The Beatle's Help and We Can Work It Out."

Kurt shook his head slowly as he thought through the arrangement. "You really are a genius," he said.

Jesse smiled contently at Kurt's comment, as if it were to no surprise to him, and then said, "It would take some work but it would be a showstopper."

"Meaning exactly what we need," Tina said, a slow smile spreading on her face. Around her, the rest of the girls began to talk among themselves. Above the din Jesse added, "And Rachel should take the lead."

"And why is that?" Santana snapped. "Despite you wanting to get back in her pants?"

Jesse didn't hesitate before logically stating, "Rachel has the best voice."

"He was never actually in my pants," Rachel interjected heatedly, turning on Santana who shot her a look and said, "Come on Berry, you had that whole talk with us last year. You're not kidding anyone."

Jesse's focus was pulled for a moment as he chuckled and asked, "You talked to them about me?"

"Besides the point," Rachel said dismissively.

"We all have good voices," Mercedes pressed. "We should be highlighted, too. This isn't the Rachel Berry show."

Jesse went to argue further but Rachel leaned forward and said, "I don't want the lead, okay? We will divide it evenly." He looked at her strangely, stepping forward and grabbing her elbow as he pulled her from the couch and over to the side. Behind them the other girls talked among themselves.

"Rachel, what are you doing?"

"I don't want the lead," she repeated. "We share more now."

"Rachel-"

"They deserve to have leads, too."

"Yeah, maybe in practice but not at Nationals," he said. "Think about all of your greatest performances. They have been because of you Rachel. Don't Stop Believing. Don't Rain On My Parade."

"Don't hog the spotlight," she finished levelly. "We're a team, Jesse. I want the solos spread evenly."

He frowned, clearly not wanting to budge but with a pointed jut of her chin he sighed and said, "Fine, it's your own funeral."

"Thank you."

He stepped back toward the group and said, "I need to rethink the song then. Rework the arrangement to accommodate all of your voices."

"Rachel is the best at arrangements. And she knows all of their voices better than they do," Kurt said from his perch on the couch, ignoring Rachel's pointed look of aggravation as the comment clearly led to Jesse saying, "Alright then, Rachel and I will work on that for our next meeting." He looked over at Rachel and asked, "Is that okay with you?"

"Fine," she answered tightly. "Perfectly fine."

Arranging a song took hours, particularly when blending a number of voices. Hours of work. Hours of Jesse.

As everyone filed out, Rachel jabbed Kurt's arm and said, "I should have never let you come."

"You'll thank me later," he said with a little wink. "The chemistry between you two? Off the charts."

"You've been with Blaine too long," Rachel griped. "He's made you all gushy. Do you not remember that Jesse is a soulless automaton?"

Kurt smirked and said, "Well, considering the hair and perfume, I'd say you don't."

A/N: So, a lot happened in this. Let me know what you think in your review!