A/N: Still not sure I'm totally happy with this chapter, but I'd already promised this to people yesterday, so here it is. Thanks again for all the comments, I wish I could say it was the biggest number of people who'd ever called me nauseating, but after the awful events of my 11th birthday party that just wouldn't be true. Hope you enjoy this.

"Hi, we're trying to find the McKinley High student who knows the most about American Idol, would you like to take our quiz and see if you could be the winner?"

Mike sighed. This was ridiculous. He'd been standing in the corridor all day asking people to fill out these stupid quizzes, and so far only eight had been completed - all by Brittany. He wasn't even sure how Rachel had persuaded him to do this, apart from the fact he was kind of terrified of her. He hadn't questioned why she wanted to find the most knowledgeable American Idol fan in the school either, because if he was honest, he really, really didn't want to know. Rachel had just mentioned something about handwriting samples and a survey that was "certain to entice Glee club members" and the next thing he knew he was standing next to a cardboard cut-out of Simon Cowell and asking people about a (in his opinion) totally boring TV show.

"Hi, we're trying to find the McKinley High - "

A hush fell over the halls, and Mike barely had time to turn around, or consider fleeing, when a voice rang out.

"Mike Chang."

He gasped, the quiz forms in his hands fluttering as his hands trembled. "You know my name?"

"I've been hearing a lot about you today, Mike. About you asking a few too many questions about a certain wildly popular television show. Well, there's a few questions I'd like to ask you."

Mike nodded frantically - he had never had the misfortune of crossing Sue Sylvester's path before, but...well, he'd heard the rumours.

"My office, right now." the Cheerio coach's lip curled in disgust, "And bring Cowell with you."

xxx

If she was honest, Rachel was a little annoyed. She appreciated that gathering information on the level of American Idol knowledge in the McKinley high student body wasn't the most interesting of tasks, but it wasn't as though it was difficult. In fact, she'd explained to Mike at length that she would be doing the hard part - comparing the handwriting of Glee club members to that on the note attached to the bear from her gift-giving groupie (not to mention assessing the quiz results and undoubtedly learning that she remained the undisputed champion of American Idol trivia). Mike, however, had abandoned his post at the quiz booth, taking the Simon Cowell cardboard cut-out with him, and hadn't replied to any of her numerous phone calls or text messages. The only sign that he'd been there at all was a competition form he'd dropped during his exit, in which Brittany stated that Kelly Clarkson was her mom's psychic.

She was surprised then, as she walked into Glee, to see the rest of the club gathered around Mike, who had his head in his hands.

"It was awful," he was saying, "She just wouldn't let me leave..."

Mr Schue looked up as Rachel entered and frowned, "Rachel, have you heard this? Coach Sylvester interrogated Mike in her office for four hours because of your little scheme."

Rachel gasped, "Mike, you refused to break under interrogation for that long?" she smiled, "I'm touched that you'd go to such lengths to avoid revealing my involvement."

Mike looked at her incredulously, "Are you kidding? I told her that after five minutes, she spent the rest of the time giving me a history lesson on music based-reality TV." he shuddered, "It was horrible."

"Rachel, why did you even want to hold an American Idol facts contest anyway? And why couldn't you do the dirty work yourself?"

Finding the eyes of the Glee club on her after Mr Schue's question, Rachel hesitated. On the one hand she could just admit to the attempt at revealing her MySpace fan, on the other hand, there was a good chance they were in the room just then, and telling them would stop her from pulling off another, similar plan in the future...

In a surprising moment of clarity though, Finn spoke up, "Wait a minute, is this about your internet boyfriend again?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow, "Her internet what?"

Rachel took a deep breath, preparing herself for the jokes which were sure to come, "Firstly, Finn, I do not have an internet boyfriend, although the American Idol quiz was indeed intended to reveal the identity of my internet fa- riend, my internet friend."

Mr Schuester sighed deeply, "Rachel, you have to be careful, okay? I know it's always nice to get compliments, but you're assuming this person is another student with good intentions. It could be anyone though, it could be..."

"...a fifty year-old paedophile who gets his kicks out of googling "excellent lobotomy candidates"", supplied Santana.

"Or a member of Vocal Adrenaline trying to gather information to sabotage our chances at Sectionals." suggested Artie.

"It could be my cat, he's been acting really shifty lately." Brittany said.

"Listen, guys, can we just - " Mr Schue attempted to interrupt, but Kurt stopped him.

"I still maintain it's a bored Cheerio trying to make fun of you, and since Santana denies it, that really only leaves - "

All eyes turned to Quinn, who had been watching the entire exchange quietly, "Yeah, because between Glee, Cheerios practice and a boyfriend, I really have time to stage a huge practical joke. You guys are idiots." she snapped out.

"Now that you mention it...where is Puck today?"

Quinn gave a long-suffering sigh, "He skipped school to take part in the first round of a hot-dog eating contest."

There were a few scoffs, and in a bored monotone that suggested she'd memorised the information against her will, she explained, "Lima Hot-Dog Eating Contest, Round One. If he gets through this round he has the chance to compete for the $500 prize available upon victory in the regional rounds, not to mention the unadulterated glory." she glanced at Mr Schue, "But you didn't hear it from me."

xxx

A message appeared the second Rachel logged into MSN that night.

MySpace Fan: I'm not a paedophile, I'm not in Vocal Adrenaline and I'm not just making fun of you.
Rachel: Is this your way of telling me that you're Brittany's cat?
MySpace Fan: No, but I do know the reason it's acting shifty is because Santana keeps giving it vodka.
Rachel: Why do you need to keep it a secret? Who you are, I mean, not the fact that Santana encourages alcoholism in pets.
MySpace Fan: I think if you found out you probably wouldn't want to be friends any more. You definitely wouldn't want to be more than that. I like being able to be nice to you.
Rachel: I don't understand.
MySpace Fan: It doesn't matter. But I'll prove I'm not a paedophile or anything, okay? Just give me a few days :)

xxx

A week. One week since her MySpace friend promised something in "a few days", and although she spoke to them almost every night and repeatedly demanded answers as to when this "proof" would arrive, the only answer she got was "just a few more days :)". She found this less than satisfactory and was, if she was honest, beginning to lose hope that the proof would ever appear.

So, when she opened her locker that morning, she was surprised to find a red rose sitting on top of her calculus text book. "Another cheesy gift." the card read, "Thanks for being patient - come to the auditorium after Glee this afternoon for your proof."

Smiling to herself, she debated how best to keep the rose from being flattened in her locker, when an immense shadow loomed over her.

"Hello, Finn." she said, without looking up.

"Hi, what's got you looking so happy?"

"Oh," she put the flower away carefully next to her books and turned to look at him, "nothing, how are you?"

He grinned, "Awesome! Me and Amy have been on two dates, I think it's going really well,"

She smiled, "I'm happy for you, Finn."

"Me too, she's really cool. Anyway, I was just looking for Puck, but apparently he got into the second round of that hot dog eating contest..."

xxx

She was going to be serenaded, she decided, as she washed her hands in the girls bathroom. Being asked to go to the auditorium? It was a serenade, that was the only option. Or, she grinned manically at herself in the mirror, perhaps they'd have written a song about her. She'd always wanted to have a song written about her - Finn had tried once, but the attempt had fallen apart when he couldn't find anything to rhyme with "Rachel".

"Stop talking to him."

She was broken from her thoughts by a dark haired girl pushing her roughly against the wall - she was wearing a Cheerios uniform, which went some way towards explaining it, but even the cheerleaders didn't normally go for violence (mental torment with the option of denial was more their thing).

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I saw you talking to Finn this morning, I know you dated all summer, and I'm telling you, he's mine now. So stop it."

This did nothing to help her confusion, "I spoke to Finn this morning?" a vague recollection of their conversation came back to her, "Oh! Yes, so I did. Who are you?"

The girl snarled, "I'm his fucking girlfriend. Now leave him alone. I know he's got a line of ex-girlfriends waiting to get their grubby little paws on him and - "

Amy stopped when she noticed Rachel trying to contain a smile (really, she was terrified, but the thought of Finn's ex-girlfriends being desperate to get back with him was hilarious under any circumstance).

"That's it." Amy almost yelled, drawing back her fist.

"Woah," someone said, "What's going on here?"

Amy turned around and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, Mercedes and Tina appeared to have inhumanly good timing.

"Okay, I know you're like, a cheerleader or whatever, but that doesn't mean you get to go around punching people in the face. " Mercedes said, "Especially if you're gonna say really lame things before you do it. So get lost."

Amy looked from Rachel to Mercedes and back again, and clearly deciding she couldn't take all three girls now standing in the bathroom, wisely got lost.

"Are you okay, Rachel?" Tina asked.

"No, I think I need to go to the emergency room."

Mercedes rolled her eyes, "You're fine."

Rachel's expression became the picture of a woman overcoming the odds, "I only hope Finn's other ex-girlfriends don't face the same challenges I have."

"Well, Quinn is Cheerios captain, so if Amy wants to keep her spot, no way would she mess with her."

"What about Santana?"

Mercedes and Tina laughed.

xxx

Rachel looked around the empty choir room slowly, "Is no-one here because they've all gone to visit Santana and Quinn after Amy hospitalised them?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "As I saw Quinn laughing in Amy's face earlier, I very much doubt it."

"Santana would definitely beat Amy in a fight," Brittany added, "She's an expert in kung fu panda."

Slightly mollified, Rachel took a seat, and Mr Schue arrived soon after, looking around at the barren room. "Where is everyone?" he asked the scant members, "Puck and Finn? Quinn and Santana?"

There were general shrugs and a few muttered comments of "hot dog eating contest", so Mr Schue just sighed, "I guess we'll start without them then. Okay, now today - "

He was interrupted, however, by a dramatic entrance into the choir room. Given that it was the Glee club, dramatic entrances weren't entirely uncommon, but it was unusual to see Finn panting in the doorway, "Sam! Mike!" he yelled, pointing at them each in turn, "Amy tried to fight Santana and now they're going crazy, you have to come help!"

Mr Schue looked at the remaining Glee club as the footballers rushed out of the room, "Why can I never get a full sentence - "

"Wait," Kurt said, "Santana Lopez and Amy Piper are fighting and we're not there watching? That is totally unacceptable - Mercedes, Tina, I hope your cell phones are charged because we need to get pictures."

It took Mr Schuester a few seconds, but in the end realisation dawned, "Wait, Santana and Amy are fighting? I should be stopping this."

xxx

At 5:00PM, half an hour after Glee club would normally end, Rachel sat in the auditorium staring at the empty stage.

She didn't look up as the door opened and closed loudly, and a voice said, "Where the hell is everyone?"

Rachel looked up in surprise as Puck sat down next to her heavily, "Does this mean you're the one I've been talking to on MySpace?"

He looked down at her in confusion, "What? Who still uses MySpace? No. I've been out eating hot dogs all day. I came back for this "special performance" or whatever the hell it was we were supposed to be doing."

"The what?"

He looked at her, "The song Mercedes wanted us to do. We were gonna sing "Stuck in the Middle With You", she sent us all our parts and told us to practice. You didn't know?"

"No, but I have to say it's somewhat surprising that Mercedes is a fan of early 70s British pop bands."

"Yeah, that did seem kind of weird."

Rachel sighed heavily, leaning her head against Puck's shoulder. She couldn't be sure if this performance had been meant for her or not, but either way, clearly nothing was going to happen - no serenade, no song written for her.

"I thought someone was going to sing to me."

He put his arm around her and smiled slightly, "Wouldn't you rather just hear your own voice anyway?"

She nodded glumly, and he sighed leaning his head back, "Not like things are going much better for me."

"Things aren't going well with Quinn?"

He shrugged, "Just seems like...I don't know. She was this uptight Christian girl who'd never date me, and I was like...a bad boy, and she couldn't date me because her parents would freak. So all the fun was in like, chasing each other or whatever. As soon as we got together it was just boring. Not to mention, she totally refuses to have sex with me, and if I'm honest, it's really starting to be a downer."

Rachel laughed, and they sat in silence for a little while longer.

I'm wondering what it is I should do,
It's so hard to keep this smile from my face,
Losing control, yeah, I'm all over the place,
Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right,
Here I am, stuck in the middle with you.