Kurt had walked the hallways of McKinley High in a state of increasing hysteria as the day went on. The thought of any of Rachel's speeches was enough to put the fear of God into him, but one on an issue so personal and potentially embarrassing as this was, well, terrifying. The cringe factor alone was unimaginable approaching infinite. Spending the passing time between classes dodging Rachel Berry sized shadows had not helped matters for Kurt either; he was reasonably sure he had lost that just-moisturised glow around fifth period, and by the time he was working up the nerve to enter glee club he was sure he looked drab with a touch of frumpy thrown in for good measure.
Stood guard outside the choir room, like some sort of demented gargoyle, was a cheerfully determined Rachel Berry. Hands fisted at her sides, lips pressed thin and eyes darting about for signs of her prey, she made a formidable sight. The pinnacle of which being her truly appalling corn blue knitted sweater emblazoned with what Kurt could only assume were intended to be three puppies barking, but in fact looked more like a demonic Cerberus waiting to attack. The phrase dressed to kill flashed through Kurt's brain, though in Rachel's case it was more of a ritual suicide. Straightening an already impeccable posture, Kurt marched forwards. There was no way he could feel threatened by someone that fashion challenged.
Just as his feet had reached the threshold, safety just a single pace away, Rachel struck. Talon-like hands clawing Kurt's arm she manhandled him down the hallway before he had a chance to protest.
"We need to talk Kurt."
"Rachel…" Kurt struggled against Rachel's hold, but her surprisingly powerful grip held.
"I know what's going on with Matt, it's pointless denying it Kurt. I know everything."
While forming an answer that would sufficiently express his contempt for that fallacy, Kurt tried once again to squirm out of Rachel's death grip. No luck. Resigning himself captive to Rachel Berry's super-human upper body strength, (just what was that girl bench pressing anyway?), Kurt suddenly had a brainwave.
"We'll be late to glee. Mr. Schuester will have handed out all the solos."
Rachel's head snapped up at this, nose sniffing the air for the stench of leeched solos. "That would never happen Kurt. Not to be boastful," Kurt rolled his eyes, "But I am the star of New Directions."
Nevertheless, the seed of doubt had been successfully sown. Rachel's grip tightened for a second and she leaned in. "Don't worry, we'll talk after Glee."
Rachel bared her teeth in what she presumably thought was a smile as she swept into the choir room, hair whipping Kurt's face as she charged into the choir room in a pair of flats that belonged on a three year old. An unfortunate three year old.
Kurt felt a little shaky as he collapsed into his customary seat next to Mercedes – the seat farthest from Rachel. Unconsciously rubbing what was sure to become a massive claw shaped bruise on his arm, all Kurt could hear was white noise as Mr. Schuester started rambling on about the 'message' of this week's assignment.
Kurt's hearing suddenly kicked in and his heart dropped as Mr. Schuester enthused, "Rock music!"
While Kurt could appreciate the theatricality that rock music can employ, that admiration was at a distinct distance from his own performances. The idea of Kurt and rock music being mixed together was disturbing on so many levels. And it wasn't just him either. How many people in glee could actually pull off a rock number? Finn probably, what with all the drumming, Tina, with her whole goth thing and that was pretty much it. Added to their complete lack of a predisposition to rock as a group, this was show choir, not a mosh pit. Though the thought of Matt in tight leather pants and a mostly unbuttoned shirt, rasping along to Aerosmith was distracting enough to derail Kurt's internal monologue, meaning he wasn't the first to voice an objection as he was too busy surreptitiously glancing at Matt, picturing the leather pants.
"Mr. Shue, I can't express my objection to this idea of yours strongly enough."
Rachel straightened in her seat, hands in her lap smoothing out the wrinkles in her pleated skirt. All ten inches of it, Kurt thought critically. While the skirt wasn't a completely horrendous idea at its core, Kurt couldn't help think that the Catholic Schoolgirl Gone Bad look that Rachel seemed to be aiming for had been twisted into Catholic Schoolgirl Gone Blind by her complete disregard for colour schemes. The skirt was orange, and her sweater, dear Gucci that sweater, heinous puppies included, was blue. Biting back the insane compulsion to stand and scream at the fact that Rachel had single-handedly murdered fashion and was currently dancing on its grave, Kurt closed his eyes and prepared himself for the oncoming tirade.
"While I pride myself on being a versatile performer, the genre of rock being well within my reach, it's patently unfair to hold the rest of glee club to the same exacting standards to which I hold myself. The uncomfortable truth is that as a group we simply can't do rock. Besides, this is a show choir, not a mosh pit!"
The other glee clubbers shot Rachel annoyed glances, except for Finn who was still focused on her skirt, and Kurt who was too busy being horrified at his and Rachel's synchronicity of thought. Obviously his first impression had been overly judgmental and critical if it matched Rachel's; perhaps he ought to give rock another chance.
Mr. Schuester grimaced, his internal mantra of, 'but she can sing, she can sing, she can sing' almost audible as he argued back. "Rachel, glee club is about diversity and freedom of expression, and recently its come to my attention that while all the Broadway numbers we've been doing are great for the girls," Kurt coughed, "and Kurt. Perhaps the guys want to try something new."
"But we did Journey. That's rock isn't it?" Rachel remained undeterred.
"Journey represents only single aspect of rock, but you have a point Rachel." Rachel beamed. "We've already proven that we can do rock as a group, so all the solos I'm about to assign should come out great." Rachel's face dropped as she realised she'd trapped herself.
Ever graceless in defeat, Rachel still managed a list of demands. "While I reluctantly admit that Finn and I," the others all glared at her, "and everyone else, performed Journey with a level of professionalism that I can only describe as stunning, Mr. Shue is right in that rock has many different aspects, and that glee is about diversity. Therefore I think that we should be allowed to stretch the limits of rock in this assignment so that everyone," she looked condescendingly round the room, "can find a piece they feel comfortable performing."
Aware that this is the best that he is likely to get out of Rachel, and deciding to leave the subject before someone poured lighter fluid over her and struck a match, Mr. Schuester blithely smiled and started glee practice proper, choosing to go over one of their regular routines.
After having repeatedly stumbled through a simple routine, Kurt was almost glad that glee was over. At least the Rachel Rant would be done with in a few minutes, and if he survived, Kurt could pick up the pieces of his self-esteem and continue on with his life.
Wistfully watching the other glee clubbers leave, paying extra attention to Matt's exit, still picturing the leather pants, Kurt desperately hugged Mercedes, whispering in her ear, still trying to find an out. "Please 'Cedes, save me. She almost wrenched my arm off earlier, but you could totally take her."
"Kurt, that girl is ten kinds of crazy. I'm so not getting in her way." Mercedes squeezed him back before releasing her hold. "But you're right, I could totally take her."
Mercedes left, leaving Kurt and Rachel alone. Feeling slightly nervous, Kurt gravitated towards the piano, focusing on the sheet music for their last number that was still propped up.
Seeing Kurt staring determinedly at the sheet music and not at her, Rachel took a deep breath and began the pre-prepared speech. "I know you don't always like me Kurt, and I understand that you can't help the natural reaction to being around someone with the magnitude of talent that I possess. Feelings of insecurity are to be expected. However, I have been in three romantic relationships, and actually know more gay people than you do, what with my dads. So, if you can put aside your personal feelings for me for just a little while, I might be able to help you."
Somewhat shocked at Rachel's sudden empathy, albeit diluted with her usual boastful insensitivity, Kurt looked up, only to see her wrestling with several large and colourful graphs, trying to tack them to the glee notice board. Garish pinks that belonged solely in toddler pageants featured heavily. Kurt sighed. Pulling out a laser pointer dusted with an ungodly amount of glitter, Rachel began the visual part of her presentation.
"Graph 1 shows the mean progression of gay relationships in high school, each different bar represents different landmarks in a relationship. Graph 2 shows the projected percentages of success of a relationship between you and Matt."
Kurt zoned out as Rachel's glittering laser pointer flicked between graphs and she talked up a storm. Kurt's mind wondered as he saw Rachel's enthusiasm ratchet up through the gears, taking her concern, misplaced and terrifying as it was, as a gesture of friendship. An olive branch of sorts.
"And this point is the probability of reaching third base. Are you listening Kurt, there is a high chance of fellatio!" Kurt suddenly jerked up, staring at Rachel incredulously.
As if sensing that Kurt was becoming uncomfortable, Rachel abandoned her presentation and sank onto the piano stool next to Kurt, abruptly changing her method of attack. "When I asked my dads what it was like to be gay in high school and how their relationships progressed, they told me that even when it was difficult and uncomfortable, you just have to remember that being gay is just a fraction of your total personality." Rachel glanced at Kurt. "Admittedly in your case it seems to be a large fraction. But you just have to remember that at their core people are just people, anything else, sexuality, skin colour, nationality, all that is just surface stuff. And frankly Kurt, you're picky enough that anyone you crush on must be a good person, so even if they're not gay and you don't ride off into the sunset together, they're not going to turn on you either. I mean Finn is your half-step-brother-in-law now." Rachel added with a fond smile.
Clearing his throat, Kurt stared amazedly at Rachel as he began to speak. "I really appreciate the effort that you went to with all this Rachel. Its really… overwhelming." Rachel threw out a thousand megawatt smile. "And, I appreciate your wanting to help. I can see why Finn likes you so much." Rachel blushed. "Even though your sweater makes my soul cry."
Getting up and turning around, Rachel huffed as she rooted around in her handbag, making a noise of triumph as she grabbed a parcel wrapped in rainbow wrapping paper. "Here, you'll need this." Rachel declared, thrusting the parcel in Kurt's lap as she gathered up the pieces of her presentation before marching out.
Tearing the paper, Kurt screeched at the book it concealed, each successive word rising in pitch. "The Joy of Gay Sex! Rachel Berry you are so dead!"
A/N - Sorry this chapter was slightly delayed; real life is beginning to kick my ass and writing Rachel is almost as challenging as listening to her ;)
Reviews, ideas and constructive criticism appreciated as always.