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Dakota opened the envelope, looked at the check, then smiled. "It's time for business. Everyone line up. You two," he gestured to Tina and Artie, "Over there. Girls together, and you, Paul Bunyan at the end." Santana chuckled as Dakota waited for Finn to move. Rachel nudged him and he went to the other end of the line.
Brad stopped in the hallway, a sense that something was wrong. Walking back he halted before entering the choir room watching from the open door. Mark stood outside as well listening. "He just started. I thought you have practice?" He whispered, surprised.
"It can wait. I feel I need to be here." He whispered back, watching.
"I have the video feed from the camera if you want." He replied still whispering, showing the Ipad sized tablet in his hand. With a finger gesture, he resized the image.
It showed. Dakota with a dour expression as he began to hand out named folders to each person expect Artie who he faked out. Artie threw up his hands then look as he continued down the row. "OK. Please examine your personalize menus. This is what you will be eating for the next six months."
Brad frowned. Mark shook his head, irritation on his face.
Mercedes stared at the stylized print out. "Um, mine just says 'coffee'"
Dakota, who was walking back down the row, looks over at her. "Um hmm." His expression was dark, mean, filled with 'isn't that obvious'.
Rachel grimaced at hers. "What's smelt?"
"A pungent, lo-carb freshwater fish." Dakota responded snarkily approaching her with a wave of his hand. It was obvious, that he was actually shorter than her.
Brad looked over at Mark, who seemed disgusted and looking at a clock in the corner. "Smelt is using in Dim Sum and sushi. Tiny fish. He's being an ass."
"Is he a little person?" Brad asked softly, curious.
"Don't know. Probably. Doesn't matter."
Rachel looked horrified.
"Alright, let's start with today's business. Artie, you're cut. You're not trying hard enough." He remarked.
"At what?" Artie asked, confused. Tina looked shocked. Mercedes looked dour. Rachel sighed, disappointed. Finn continued to stare at his menu with was in French. He looked up, annoyed. Quinn seemed amused as did Santana. Brittany was blank. The only one who was happy was Mark. He shut of the clock. "One minute. New record there, buddy," he whispered. Brad looked hat him horrified.
"I told Rachel he would cull someone in the first three minutes. She said she would fire him if she did." He seemed pleased with himself.
Brad blew a sigh of relief.
"At walking," Dakota said, staring annoyance. "Can't be wheeling you around every number. It throws off the whole dynamic and its depressing." He looked disgusted. Mark and Brad missed the explanation with their talk coming in at 'it's depressing'.
"So you're kicking him out?" Mercedes asked with her characteristic swagger. She threw a thumb at his direction.
"Um hmm," Dakota responded, hands on hips, black folder tucked beside one. "Also you has got to go, FF."
She looked shocked, her head whipping around.
"No, no," he dodged back as she whipped a fist by but was nowhere near him.
Kurt shouted angrily. "You can't kick people out of Glee club because of the way they look." Mercedes looked over at him, pleased.
Dakota halted in front of him, leaning his hand on his chin briefly. "Why don't you shut your face gash and stay away from aerosol cans because you could burst into flames at any second."
Tina looked horrified. Disappointment echoed on Artie and Mercedes faces. Quinn was amused, trying not to laugh. Brittany stood silently, but was smiling as well. Santana sniffed, trying to hide the chuckle.
Rachel was horrified and disgusted as was Finn. Yet, she remained silent. Brad noticed she had that 'I really messed this up' look. He pointed to it on the pad. "When you see that, she believes she messed it up. Don't confront her. Let her fix it."
"You three, you're great. You're perfect. Don't change a thing." He said as he walked by, with a hand wave.
"Uh, you, nose job." He said as he moved. Finn had enough.
"Now, hold on a second," he shouted.
"What," he said, interrupting him. "What was that Frankenteen? Why don't you wipe that dopey look off your face and get some lotion for those knuckles you're dragging on the ground" Dakota said, after making a hand to the ear gesture.
"What's wrong with you?" Finn retorted, indignant. He looked to Rachel then back.
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" Dakota responded, mirroring the indignation. "What's wrong with me is that you're freakishly tall. I feel like a woodland creature." He bellowed, gesturing with his hands.
Mark and Brittany said at the same time, "He looks like one too." Santana laughed, covering her face.
Rachel looked at Quinn, Santana and Brittany. Quinn's smugness and Santana's laughter bothered her. She looked to Finn worry and fear obvious.
Dakota shifted and looked out at all of them, raising his hands in placating gesture. "Am I hurting your feelings? Did I say something wrong because I thought you wanted someone who respected you enough to tell you the truth?" As he walked forward, he patted himself then made the ok hand gesture. "But maybe you don't have the confidence to hear it, hmmh?"
Quinn's joy evaporated as he said 'confidence'. Her countenance fell. Santana still held her smile. Everyone seemed tired of him; disgusted, angry, frustrated. Brittany was distracted, noticing Brad at the doorway before he vanished back around.
The hesitation in Rachel perplexed Mark. He scrubbed his chin. "She's not freaked out enough. She still thinks everyone will stay. But they won't. Watch," Brad said softly.
"Maybe you need someone who'll lie to you, tell you things like 'You got what it takes,'" He paced the distance of three people in the line pausing near Santana and Rachel. The disquiet Rachel echoed caught Mark as well. "Do it." He whispered. "Kick him to the curb." Brad looked at him, his eyebrows furrowed, displeased. Rachel glanced around, searching. "That's my girl. You can figure it out." Mark cheered privately.
"But you know what? As far as I can see," Dakota continued; his hands out in mock shock, "you don't. So why don't you take a little second, that a breather and ask yourself," He paused in front of a saddened, apprehensive Rachel, "do I want to be a winner or not."
As he said that, Rachel looked at Quinn, Brittany and Santana who all smiled darkly at her. Dakota was smiling, expecting her to agree with him.
Brad frowned. "Do what's in your heart not in your mind. Listen to your heart." Mark looked at him and realized that he might be reading her wrong and the speech was designed to have her do his dirty work. Disgust rolled across his face. Brad glanced quickly. "You either have faith in her or you are using her for your own goals. Will believes the second, I the first so which is it?" If came out matter of fact, quickly while the pause hung in the air.
"The first. She will not abandon them. Will they abandon her?
Brad frowned, "Yes. See."
"Screw this, I quit," Finn said to Rachel's horror. "Me, tttt-too," Tina followed. Brittany smiled, eminently pleased. Quinn seemed disappointed, Santana silent, distant.
"Let's roll, Artie," Mercedes said as she threw her folder on his lap.
Dakota seemed shocked. "That's great, separate the wheat from the chaff. Perfect!"
"Wait!" Rachel begged as Kurt walked by. Finn paused at the door, turning. Everyone else turned as well. "Barbara Streisand," she said, rapidly thinking of something. "When Barbara was a young ingénue, everyone told her in order to be a star she would have to have a nose job." She turned from them to stare at Dakota with a more haughty posture. The folder was at her waist still. Quinn watched silently realizing Rachel was right. Brittany seemed disappointed as did Santana.
"Where is this going, Yentl?" Dakota asked sharply.
"Where this is going is that," she looked over at everyone standing by the door, "We don't need you." She shook her head softly as she said it. She glanced up and around the choir room. "Let's face it." She grinned. "We will never as good as dancers as Vocal Adrenaline. We are going to win because we are different." She connected to Finn, smiling at him. He caught it and smiled back. "And that's makes us special." She nodded, annunciating it.
"They told J-lo her booty was too big," Mercedes remarked then returned to her spot.
"Curtis Mayfield was more successful after he became paralyzed," Artie said as he wheeled him back over.
"Jim Abbot," Finn said as he walked back over beside her.
"I have no idea who that is," Kurt said watching him.
"He was a one armed pitcher for the Yankees. He pitched a no-hitter." Pride filled his words as he spoke. He grinned at Rachel who smiled brightly back.
Brad looked at Mark. "Looks like we were both right. She managed to pull them back in."
"She hasn't fired him yet," Mark reminded.
"She will. She realizes what she did was wrong for the team even if it was right for her and Quinn." Mark looked at him, differently. "How do you know so much about her? You act as if she's your niece or something."
Dakota looked at them all. He was clearly disappointed, rubbing his left temple with his hand. "So misfits and spaz-heads and cripples can make it too. That's great. What's your point?" He looked at Finn.
Rachel wheeled around, irritation filled her words. "Our point is…" she walked over to him and stopped right in his face. "You're fired. And I'm taller than you."
"Barely," Dakota grumbles before storming out with his paperwork. Mark looked over at Brad, smiled and said 'Got to go. I need my money back." And he tucked the viewer under his arm as he sprinted off.
Finn walked back over to Rachel as everyone looked pleased. "So should we rehearse today or what?" He asked as everyone smiled, pleased. She nodded. Brad walked back in looking like he had left his notes. Looking around, he smiled at them. "Where's Dakota?"
"I fired him," Rachel bubbled, delighted.
"He decided Artie and Mercedes weren't worthy so he kicked them out. Rachel convinced us to stay?" Kurt said. Brad eyed him. "Really. So I gather you want to practice?"
Everyone nodded. Finn can you go out to the field and let Janna know I'm staying here?"
He nodded then left. Walking down the hall, he saw Mark talking to Dakota. Pausing, he listened. "Did I not tell not to ever be in the same place as me if you wanted to continue this sham of a business?" he said, sharply without raised voice. "So you decide to find the latest person I signed and tell her she's no good. That's what I heard."
Dakota leaned back from the words, his hands in a defensive posture. "I didn't know. She didn't mention this."
"You didn't ask. You just assumed. So I suggest you disappear before I decide to inform the media that you steal routines. Money!" He held out his hand.
Dakota hung his head. "I need that."
"Where do you think she got it from?" Mark remarked.
He slapped the envelope into Mark's palm. Mark opened the envelope, verified the check was still there. He noticed Finn as he slid the envelope back into his blazer pocket. He grinned like a shark devouring prey. I think I need to be elsewhere. Finn nodded and hustled down another hall to the field and Janna.
An hour later, Finn walked over to Rachel. She was flushed and sweaty yet still overjoyed by their victory. Everyone else has exited except Quinn who was standing at the other door talking to Santana. "What are you doing tonight?"
Quinn sighed loudly, wounded. "At least you could have the decency to ask her, out of my presence."
Finn blushed, looked over at her. "I know what Mr. Schuester had been doing with his time." He paused, looked back to Rachel with a half-smile as she wiped the sweat from her brow with golden towel. "I was wondering if you wanted to see me…"
"What?" they both asked hastily.
"Accafellas! It's the boy band Mr. Schuester founded. We are performing for the PTA tonight at the performing arts center."
Rachel's face fell. "I can't go. Forest Hills is having a ceremony celebrating our first cheerleading win in five years. Since I am a lieutenant, I am expected."
Quinn chuckled. Rachel glared at her, her jaw set, hands on hips. "It's the first of three. Take Quinn. Otherwise, she might get another cake facial."
Quinn marched over to her position, all mirth drained away. "You ruined a $500 dress. And I got blamed for it. You're a bitch." She took the Gatorade® she had been drinking and threw it into her face.
Rachel wiped her eyes with the towel. "You're a cliché. You're Lindsey Lohan."
"You're a succubus!" Quinn screamed. Rachel slapped her.
"Enough!" Finn shouted, stepping between them. They were both shocked silent, staring at him. Rachel folded her arms under her bust while Quinn rested hers on her hips. Both held a defiant pose. "Look. I understand. Please, can you both quit attacking each other? It's old and not fun."
He raised his hand when Rachel when to speak, simply locking compassionate eyes with her. Quinn stood staring blank, wounded fury in her eyes. "Be civil, please?" he pleaded.
The sound of a single person clapping caught them all off guard. Finn looked rapidly over. Puck stood at the back doorway amused. Rachel stared, annoyed. Quinn watched, amused with sad eyes. "So you finally are doing something, huh?"
Rachel shifted her gaze to Quinn, focused. Then she turned to Puck. "Go away, Puck. This is the Choir room."
"I know what it is. I'm just here to pick up Finn here." He said with a smarmy grin.
"Then you don't mind us practicing." Rachel retorted. He glanced at Quinn who was acting peculiar but ignored it.
Rachel groaned inwardly. Why are you here? Really? A soft shake of her head and she focused on the lines again. The music arranged itself in her head, yet Quinn kept acting odd. This mixture of anger, fear and sorrow radiated. What to do? That song is perfect, accapella. A final glance at Quinn who still stared at Puck whose smarmy smirk disgusted her more than Jacob. He knows something because lately he won't leave me alone. I hope he doesn't know I have a contract yet.
She cleared her throat, inhaled, letting it flow.
"Don't try to explain your mind
I know what's happening here
One minute it's 'love',
And suddenly it's like a battlefield,"
Quinn shot a look at Rachel who winked. She turned from staring at Puck to watching her. Yes, follow my cues. As much as I don't like you, I like him less. Quinn placed her hand on Finn, turning him to face her.
"One word turns into a war
Why is it the smallest things that tear us down?
My world's nothing when you don't
I'm not here without a shield
Can't go back now,"
Jealousy crept across Rachel's face when surprised joy crossed Finn's. Glancing away, she caught Puck nearly fall off the door frame, from the shock. Apparently he didn't know we could sing. Stepping over to Finn, she connected with him briefly as Quinn finished her last line.
Together:
"Both hands, tied behind my back with nothing
Oh no, these times when we climb so fast to fall again
Why we gotta fall for it now,
I never meant to start a war
You know I never wanna hurt you
Don't even know what we're fighting for,"
"Why does love always feel like a battlefield?"
Quinn: "A battlefield," Rachel: "a battlefield?"
"Why does love always feel like a battlefield?"
Quinn: "A battlefield," Rachel: "a battlefield?
Why does love always feel like…?"
She caught a glance of Mark running down the hall, and smiled broadly. Finn seemed pleased yet befuddled by the attention. A glance at Quinn showed the gaze she shot at Puck. There is something between them. Something like what me and Finn have? Quinn looked to Rachel then back to Finn, emotions guarded.
"Can't swallow our pride
Neither of us wanna raise that flag
If we can't surrender then we both gonna lose
What we had, oh no,"
Rachel looked at the three of them. She then took Finn's hand staring into his chocolate brown eyes.
"Both hands tied behind my back with nothing
Oh no, these times when we climb so fast to fall again
I don't wanna fall for it now,
"I never meant to start a war
You know I never wanna hurt you
Don't even know what we're fighting for,"
"Why does love always feel like a battlefield?"
Quinn: "A battlefield," Rachel: "a battlefield?"
"Why does love always feel like a battlefield?"
Quinn: "A battlefield," Rachel: "a battlefield?
I guess you better go and get your armor."
Get your armor, Get your armor."
Rachel flashed an easy smile at Quinn and nodded her head as the cue. She then smiled at Puck before turning back to Finn and sliding beside him, leaning her head on his shoulders. He looked at her, delight and fear on his face. Puck's grin held laughter.
Quinn stared at her, brow furrowed. Eyes filled with jealousy, she continued.
"I guess you better go and get your armor
Get your armor, Get your armor
I guess you better go and get your armor…"
Her gaze moved to Finn, the jealousy dissipating to sorrow and pain. He caught her and smiled. Her breath caught and hung inside her chest. It was an easy smile, full of good humor.
"We could pretend that we are friends tonight,
Oh, oh, oh,
And in the morning we'll wake up and we'll be alright
'Cause baby, we don't have to fight,
And I don't want this love to feel like
A battlefield, a battlefield, a battlefield
Why does love always feel like a battlefield?
A battlefield, a battlefield.
Quinn's gaze fell back on Puck briefly as she sang the chorus, yet it didn't stay. It fell on Rachel, as she halted in front of her. She pushed off of Finn. Jealousy echoed in her eyes.
"I guess you better go and get your armor…
Why does love always feel like a battlefield?"
Quinn: "A battlefield," Rachel: "a battlefield?"
"Why does love always feel like a battlefield?"
Quinn: "A battlefield," Rachel: "a battlefield?
I guess you better go and get your armor.
Get your armor, Get your armor."
Quinn: "Why does love always feel like a battlefield?
Rachel: "Why does love always feel like a battlefield?
Quinn, out of breath, stared down Rachel with all her frustration and jealousy, yet she finished with:
"I never meant to start a war,
Don't even know what we're fighting for"
Rachel, amused, finished as loud as she started.
"I never meant to start a war,
Don't even know what we're fighting for."
"Him," Rachel whispered to herself, as she glared at Puck. "Enjoy the show?" She retorted with short breaths.
He clapped softly. "A lot."
Quinn stepped in front of her gaze. Still short of breath herself, she paused before speaking. "Look. I don't like you. But I can respect you."
"I can too," she said as she wiped the sheen of sweat that misted her forehead.
"See you tomorrow?" she asked. Rachel shook her head as Puck did the same. "Thank you very much but I won't be here. It's Rosh Hashanah, so I won't be going to school. However, since I am hosting our feast at Wolverettes CheerHouse I will be over there. It's a professional day there." She grinned, pleased. Puck seemed surprised.
Quinn looked to Finn, pouting. "You'll be there?"
"Yes," he said, unsure. Rachel shot him a sharp look.
"Can I come?" Puck asked out of the blue.
A deep sigh echoed from Rachel. She stared at him then said, "Yes. Dress up. Famous people will be there. And," She gave him a look that conveyed that this was a serious matter, "DON'T EMBARRASS ME. This isn't here. You are a guest. Understand, Noah?"
He bristled when she said his given name. Yet amongst the frown there was the tall and lean physique, complete with whipcord muscles. He wore faded and well-worn Levi's® jeans with a T-shirt that looked like it had once been black, but now was more a soft charcoal. I see why Quinn is attracted but he's still the bully who slushied me daily. "Ok, done. But I'm taking Quinn with me."
"Why?" she yelled as if stuck. Quinn looked at him like he slapped her. She shook her head vigorously.
"Because I think she should experience it correctly. Or do you have a problem with that?"
"I won't be welcome, Puck. Her dads hate me." She stared at Rachel daring her to deny in. Rachel threw her arms up, then folded them in silent protest.
He looked at her. "I don't care. If it's real, they'll let it pass." He looked at the wall clock then at Finn, "We need to go. We'll be late." Finn looked at Quinn. She shrugged. "I'll be there." He smiled at Rachel, "see you tomorrow?"
She grinned back. "Tomorrow." And she watched them leave following out a different door.
Quinn walked towards Coach Sylvester's office after she met up with Brittany and Santana. On the way, Mark passed by them, stopped then turned around. "Ladies?" He called out.
Quinn stopped and turned around. What does he want? She droned to herself. It's bad enough that Rachel keeps winning but this is too much. Yet I have to keep the peace if I want anyone out of my life. She pasted on a fake smile. "Yes?"
"Now that Dakota Stanley is gone, you have your glee club back. That's which your facility advisor as well. I'm not supporting that album he made and neither is anyone else I talked to. Frankly, they thought it was hilarious. It'll be the highlight of the next 'Interscope 'How not to make an album'' conference next month. So he'll be back, Monday. Tell your coach that. Got to run."
Santana shouted as he turned away. "What about the money?"
"Taken care of. Breadstix on me." He said, tossing a business card in the air as he ran.
She ran up, scooping up the card. It had his signature on it. She clutched it like it was a hundred dollars. Quinn frowned at her. "Shall we?" They nodded, continuing on to Coach Sylvester's office.
"What can I do for you ladies? I expected a late night." Coach Sylvester said, surprised. She stood, polishing a trophy, in a bright blue Addias tracksuit.
Quinn frowned, her mood solemn. "Rachel fired him after he kicked out Artie and Mercedes. Mr. Schuester will be back on Monday because no one will support his album. And the club is strong as a result."
Coach Sylvester sat the trophy back in its spot, dropped the rag on the floor and sat down frowning. She looked at Santana, who nodded. Brittany remained outside. I will never understand how she does that. Just vanishes.
"So let me get this straight. The club got rid of Dakota Stanley. Mr. Schuester is back and they're busy at work on a new number more confident than ever? This is what we call a total disaster, ladies. I'm going to ask you to smell your armpits."
Quinn and Santana look at each other and hesitantly do so.
"That's the smell of failure. And it's stinking up my office," she said after they finished. She stared at them disappointed, grabbed her glasses off her desk and began to write on official stationary. "I am revoking your tanning privileges for the rest of the season."
Santana broke down in sobs as Quinn looked on at her. She rose and rushed out. Quinn got up as well and walked to the door. This isn't right. If I am losing, I want, at least, my dignity. "Ms. Sylvester, I want to thank you," she said in a bright tone.
Coach Sylvester looked up, taking off her glasses. "For what?" she said gruffly.
"For teaching me a valuable life lesson," snark floated under the words as she stood there, poised. Confidence buoyed her. "When you really believe in yourself, you don't have to bring other people down." Then she turned and walked out, pleased. Monday, He'll be back. Do I believe in myself? Yes. That one girl who I didn't even know gave Rachel keys because she believed in her. That guy believed in Finn enough to give me free clothes. The Graverobber believed in me enough to save me as did Finn, even if he doesn't love me anymore. I need to believe in me. There's a baby here so I need to make a choice.
She stopped at her locker, the halls empty. A note to the local 'Planned Parenthood' fluttered out. She crushed it in her hands. I am pregnant. Two doctors said so. Graverobber knew it. "I know you are there. I didn't want you. I didn't plan on you but I won't kill you either. I can't. I'm not like that."
A '40 days for life' flyer fluttered down as she pulled out her books for the homework assignments. She shoved it back it. "God, I need your help." She rubbed her stomach. "What am I going to do?" Shutting the locker door, she walked out silently, wondering. I can't tell Puck. Never. He's such a Lima loser. Finn will help. But he's with Rachel. Unless it's his. The hot tub! He went off in the hot tub. And he will believe it."