Disclaimer: I do not own Frank Sinatra's 'Love Is a Many Splendored Thing', Grace Potter's rendition of 'Cortez: The Killer' by Neil Young, and Jesse's adorability factor.

Author's Note: Once again, I'd like to extend my deepest gratitude to those who took the time to give their feedback. You guys are the fuel to which this story runs on. Thank you, thank you, and thank you.

And we're back to Rachel's P.O.V.! I hope you guys missed her neuroticism, haha!

So, this chapter features Rachel getting a big, fat reality check. It's time for her (I think) to start realizing that Jesse is human and she needs to decide if she can accept that.

You guys asked for a long chapter, I delivered! BAM! It's over 5000 words long; filled with humour, awakening, a new character, and of course, your favourite: sexual tension.

This chapter is different in the sense that there is some MAJOR Jesse-Rachel interaction going on. With a twist.

Go on: Read, get flustered, enjoy and review!

Have fun, guys!

"Wait... you never even gave him your name?" Freddy's voice dripped with disbelief through the receiver of Rachel's telephone.

"I guess I took 'playing aloof' too far, huh?" she wrinkled her nose as she stared down at the pamphlet from the other night's showcase (the one with Jesse's face prominently displayed on).

"I'd say so, yes."

"Well, in my defence... he failed to introduce himself to me as well. Also he didn't even ask for my name. And he left with another girl."

"Clearly you've had some time to mull this over, Rachel. But, I'm afraid you took my advice in the completely wrong direction. Hence, I now deem you... a noob."

"That isn't fair, Freddy! Your first idea worked, so I thought (naturally) your suggestion in keeping my speech to a minimal level would as well."

"Of course my first idea worked. All I had to do was leave the room and let nature take its course. That silly boy's way too full of himself to follow original plans like the choreography. It was in his instinct to make the decision in taking my place. However, the second one went awry probably because I left you to your own devices."

Rachel smiled giddily at the thought of the dance class and the connection they had made (even if it was just for a few nanoseconds).

"I'll have you know that my 'somewhat relationship' with Jesse got along fine even before you came into the picture," Rachel shot back triumphantly, placing one hand on her hip.

"Mm-hm. Which part? The one where he doesn't even know who you are and still doesn't?"

Rachel paused.

Shoot.

She forgot that she had given Freddy a detailed play-by-play of what was up (or lack thereof) between her and the Vocal Adrenaline superstar.

"Fair enough. But it doesn't matter. I'm going to try this one more time and actually do it right."

"... How, Rachel?"

"I know for a fact that he'll be at the same pub he went to for the showcase I told you about this Friday night to 'hang out' with some friends."

"Wow. Did you get that from Stalker(dot)Net ?"

"No. FaceBook."

"It's the same concept."

Rachel rolled her eyes as she got up from her bed and moved to stand in front of her mirror.

"Anyway... if you're thinking I'm going to ambush him while he's with his friends, you're wrong. I'll just innocently be 'in the area' like an hour or two after the designated meeting time for the group," she explained thoroughly, her voice bright with enthusiasm.

"That actually sounds promising. I'm impressed."

"Told you I'm capable."

"Well, I for one can't wait to get to know your devious, little mind even better, Rachel. But for now, I've got a lecture on Criminal Law I need to be getting to. I'll see you around, pumpkin."

"Bye," Rachel smiled before hanging up.

She sighed to her reflection while running a finger through her dark locks, fixing her glossy hair. The brunette ingénue was going to let the chips fall as they may this Friday. If they were meant to be, they would be. If they weren't, then at least she would know.

No more crazy 007 action. She'll just get straight to the point and he was going to listen.

Because really, Rachel herself didn't like all these 'I-know-you-but-you-don't-know-me-and-yet-I'm-madly-in-love-with-you' shenanigans. She would like to establish something with Jesse, for goodness' sakes (so she could stop feeling like a loser).

Friday could not come quick enough.

The week came and gone at lightning speed and Rachel was panicking at the fact that Friday came out of nowhere.

She found herself sitting alone in her car (she had just gotten her license in the mail and had convinced her fathers in allowing her to take the car out for a spin... little did they know, to where exactly). The brunette kept thinking and rethinking the craziness of her plan.

Rachel twiddled with the hem of her black bell skirt.

What if he sees right through me? What if he thinks I'm just trying to be another notch on his belt? What if he turns out to be nothing more than a complete and utter douche bag who thinks he's superior to me?

The young sophomore fretted to herself as she leaned her head back against the headrest.

"Love is a many splendored thing!" her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by someone's loud, obnoxious singing. Snapping her eyes open, she furrowed her brow as the voice floated from the middle of the parking lot.

"It's the April rose that only grows in the early spring..." Rachel was about to get annoyed at the bellowing as it was seriously intruding her peace. She needed to be in a calm frame of mind to face Jesse and this disturbance was not helping.

"Love is nature's way of giving..." there was a dramatic pause of the said slurring voice as the brunette stuck her head out of the window of her car to see who was responsible. She caught sight of a lone figure a few feet away. There were people milling about in front of the pub around the area, so she didn't really feel the need to be scared of what might happen as she got out of the car for further inspection.

"The golden crown that makes a man a king!" Rachel slowly approached the said figure before stopping dead in her tracks.

Holy Mother of 'All That Is Pure and True In This World'.

Walking in a zigzag, the guy stumbled about with a bottle in his hand. There was a flash of mussed up brown hair as his tall figure tried to regain balance on his seemingly unsteady feet.

"Once on a high and windy hill!" he wailed theatrically, throwing his arms wide open for exaggeration value.

It figures. Only Jesse St. James could manage to stay relatively in pitch even when inebriated.

"In the morning mist... two lovers kissed... and the world stood still..." apparently, that high note on the previous line had tuckered him out enough, rendering his voice to a lazy slur as he slowed his steps to a stop. He stood there, feet apart and arms slumped to his sides.

Okay, what the hell?

This was not how she imagined her night would go.

AND this was not how the man of her dreams was supposed to behave.

"Sweet, fancy Moses," she mumbled gravely, breaking the deafening silence.

Jesse started, lifting his head before turning to look at her. "Whoa, hey, wait, what? You said something," he burst out with a flurry of words, squinting as he tried to capture her in his line of vision.

"Nothing. This was a total mistake," Rachel shook her head, just about ready to sink into depression as she whipped around to leave.

"Don't leave me, oh sweet angel!" his voice rose expressively, regaining his previously depleted energy once more. She stopped in her tracks, shutting her eyes with an impatient sigh.

"You can't leave... coz'... y'know..." Jesse began to slur yet again as he turned his bottle upside down, realizing it was already empty.

"The moon... we gotta... we gotta go there... for milk..." the devilishly handsome (and current) drunkard threw the said bottle to the ground unceremoniously. Rachel jumped at the sound of the sudden crash that exploded into the night.

Heaving another distressed noise from the base of her throat, she whirled around to face him. She found him staring blankly at the pieces of shattered glass beside him. Flipping her hair out of her face, the young diva marched right over to him.

"You're drunk," she stated with finality.

"You're cute," he smiled sleepily in return, towering over her petite figure.

Rachel faltered momentarily before reminding herself that he was thoroughly hammered and would not mean what he said for the remainder of the night.

"You're Jesse St. James!" she wailed, unwilling to believe that he was intoxicated beyond measure. She was dolled up for the night, had waited for this moment all week, and had been mentally preparing to face him... for WHAT? So, he could just forget about her the next day?

"I am?" Jesse screwed his eyebrows together at the sound of his name.

Rachel ignored his glazed stare and barrelled straight on, the immense annoyance clear in her voice. "You're not supposed to lose control! You're supposed to be charming the pants off of me! Don't you know that you're supposed to be playing the perfect gentleman right now as we speak?" she didn't care that she sounded like an insane loon. It wasn't like he was going to remember any of it anyway. So, she made the most out of the moment.

"I am," he uttered defiantly, only half-registering what she had just lashed out to him.

She let out a scoffing laugh. "'Swinging about like a crazy person'. Oh yeah. A definite check in the list of appealing traits," came her sarcastic reply as she took a step back from him, only just noticing that she had gotten all up in his space a moment ago.

Rachel tried her level best to ignore the dazed and yet determined expression on his face. He seemed determined to respond to her harshness with his own wit, but the effort was apparent in his expression as he tried to formulate words.

It was adorable.

But, she stopped herself from thinking too much into that considering that she was supposed to be disappointed in him.

Jesse's hands suddenly shot up in front of his face. The sudden motion took Rachel by surprise as she jumped backwards.

He began to wiggle said fingers. "I'm magic."

The impressionable, young girl stared at him in a mixture of horror and fascination. His "argument" actually succeeded in rendering her speechless.

His hands dropped to his sides as he gazed to her in confusion and apprehension.

"What's your problem, anyway?" he mumbled, his voice holding an almost child-like quality in the question he shot at her.

"You called me back over here!"

"Yea... well... I'm rubber, you're glue..."

Jesse turned to step back before Rachel quickly grabbed a handful of his jacket, yanking him back over to her. A car zoomed past, narrowly missing his foot.

There was no way in Hell she was going to let him meander around in his current state. It would be like trusting a chimpanzee with matches and dynamite.

"Oh my God, wow, are you okay?" he gasped as he turned to grasp her forearms, totally missing the fact that it was him that nearly got run down by a car. Not her.

"Jesse, you should go home," she grasped his own forearms as well, looking up to him (a little worried... not to mention, exasperated).

"How many cups of sugar does it take to get to the moon?" came his reply as they maintained their position that way.

Rachel didn't falter (she kind of expected a crazy response from him). "Do you even remember where you live?" she pressed on further.

He sighed, releasing her from his grasp. "Fine. You twisted my arm. It's twenty-three," he uttered in defeat, leaning on his side against the car beside them.

"Give me your wallet," she stuck her hand out expectantly, raising her eyebrows to the teasing smile that spread across his face.

"You'll have to frisk me for it, officer," his smile broadened cheekily, eyes half-closed.

Rachel scowled up to him. She went around him and dug through his back pocket, momentarily getting a head rush from actually touching him this way. But it would've been better if he wasn't semi-conscious and was able to fully enjoy the touch of a woman. He looked about ready to fall asleep there and then.

Very romantic.

She found the leather article and checked his license. Scanning it, she recognized the address. It wasn't far from where they were.

"Come on, I'm taking you home," the brunette declared, stuffing the wallet back into his pocket.

"Uh-uh... stranger danger, stranger danger..." he argued in a sing-song voice, refusing to a move a step.

"Jesse..." she tried to come off as firm with him, but ended up sounding like she was about to cry from the sheer impatience ready to explode within her. In the end, she ended up pushing him towards her car. Surprisingly, it didn't take much effort as he followed her lead without a struggle whatsoever.

"No. Wait. Stop," he mumbled dully as they made their way over to the said vehicle.

Rachel was beginning to think he was just arguing with her for the sake of arguing.

She pulled open the passenger door for him. Putting one foot inside, he turned to look at her at the last second.

"Is this where you start to take advantage of me? Coz' I can make it easier for you..." he began casually, dragging out his words as he blinked slowly. Rolling her eyes, Rachel shoved him into his seat before slamming the door shut.

Not how she pictured her night to be at all.

She ignored the excited tingle in the pit of her stomach at the realization that Jesse St. James was in her car and instead tried to focus all her energy in feeling let down by him.

He was still a charming drunk, though.

Shaking her head, the brunette slipped into the driver's seat. Ignoring his stare on her, she was about to turn the key in the ignition before Jesse broke the momentary lapse of silence.

"Are you supposed to be some random guardian angel or something? Coz' if you are, then... boy, you've got the wrong person here..." he chuckled lightly, getting comfortable in his seat.

Rachel looked over to him, her brow furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

The unfazed Carmel High senior inclined his head towards her, their gazes interlocked.

"There once was a moth that fell in love with a star," he uttered, leaning his head against the headrest as he watched her. She wasn't exactly sure where he was going with this... but, she stayed silent.

"All his friends and relatives mocked him, told him he was being unrealistic, and urged him to focus his efforts on some local, possible, attainable goal: a streetlamp or a lantern," his voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke to her, as if sharing a secret.

"But our Moth was in love with His Star, and he would not give up..." he grinned as he watched a smile form on the brunette's lips.

"So while all his pals and his family soon burned themselves out around the local, ready-made luminaries, and wound up as charred bits of ash on the sidewalks of the town, our Moth enjoyed a long and happy and healthy life in endless pursuit of his limitless Star," Rachel had no idea how someone as drunk as he was could even recall such a random story, but she found herself staring at his lips as he spoke. And no other thought seemed to enter her mind.

She had listened intently, not realizing that they're faces kept inching closer and closer as he had gone further into the story.

"And then?" she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from his full lips.

"And then..." he murmured huskily, his nose almost brushing against hers...

That was before he fell unconscious, head-first onto her lap.

Rachel squeaked in surprise, rudely awakened from the dazed state he had put her under.

Holy fuck.

Jesse St. James' head was in between her legs. And not in the way she had often daydreamed about.

The guy was out cold.

Just at that moment, a couple of girls had passed the side of her car. Coincidentally, they glanced inside while passing through. Taking in the scandalous sight before them, they whistled in approval.

As a series of "You go, girl!"(s) and "Make him work for it!"(s) drifted off into the night when the giggling group of women passed by, Rachel shut her eyes in embarrassment.

"Jesse!" she whispered harshly to the still figure, head lying face down in her lap.

"Mmmhpf..." came the muffled reply as his face maintained its position.

His voice vibrated through her like an electric shock from where his mouth coincidentally was situated and oh dear lord that felt too good to ever be deemed morally appropriate.

Grabbing his shoulders frantically (against her will), she pushed him back into his seat.

That actually snapped him out of his sleepy daze as the back of his head hit the headrest. Blinking rapidly, he shook his head.

"Do me a favour and stay awake. At least until I get you home," she muttered, starting the engine before pulling out of the parking space.

Jesse didn't say anything as he rubbed his eyes, not quite regaining consciousness yet.

Damn his stupid cuteness. Damn it to hell.

She drove in silence and after a few moments, he reached forward and turned the radio on. Clumsily switching through the stations, he finally stopped when an unfamiliar song (at least to Rachel) floated through the speakers.

"Ohh yeah... That's it..." he moaned in satisfaction whilst leaning back into his seat, eyes shut appreciatively.

Just ignore the fact that he's moaning. In your car. You can do it.

She steadied her breathing, focusing her attention on the road before her.

The song featured heavily on the trumpet and electric guitar as a woman sang amongst the hauntingly provocative instrumentals of the music.

Rachel had never heard it before, but began to enjoy the high of the song as it played on longer.

Jesse's eyes remained shut as he murmured along the lyrics.

"And the women all were beautiful... and the men stood straight and strong..." managing to stay in tune, he tapped his hand against his lap in time with the beat.

After a while, he looked over to the brunette who had been glancing to him, an unspoken question in her eyes.

"No..." he grinned in disbelief.

"'No' what?" she arched an eyebrow, as she looked in her rear view mirror to switch lanes.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Neil Young," his slur had improved a little as she listened to the obvious smile in his tone.

She smiled, shaking her head 'no'.

"This is a rendition of his song by Grace Potter and Joe Satriani. Just listen to those lyrics... that guitar... the trumpet. The music is purely designed to make love to your soul," Jesse spoke as passionately as a drunk could muster... which was pretty fiery enough.

Rachel giggled. "At the rate it's going, my soul's pretty much knocked up by now," she quipped, sending him an easy smile.

Laughing heartily, the Vocal Adrenaline lead leaned into his seat, appreciating her joke. Then again, everything seems hilarious when you're inebriated.

They let the song play until the end in silence.

He leaned his head against the window, watching the view go by before dozing off again.

Rachel's mind went into overdrive as she drove quietly, not really knowing what to make of the situation. Was this current predicament a sign that she was never going to really get to know him in the conventional way? Or was the fact that she actually enjoyed herself in his company (even when she knew full well that he wasn't going to remember any of this the next morning)... kind of scaring her?

She put her thoughts on hold as they approached the guardhouse of the gated community Jesse lived in. Rolling down the window, she smiled brightly to the man in the uniform as he walked up to her car.

"Just dropping off a friend," she explained casually as he shone his flashlight into the car.

Peering in, a look of realization dawned upon his face. "Oh, Mr. St. James..." he nodded, catching sight of the sleeping figure beside her. "And you are?" he shone the light in her face.

Squinting, Rachel scrunched up her face at the sudden brightness.

Internally, she was momentarily panicking. She didn't really want him to recollect this embarrassingly peculiar encounter with her. Especially considering he had no idea who she was. She quickly thought of an appropriate answer.

Time to put her drama workshops to good use.

"Barbra... Chenoweth," she spoke the first two names that came to mind.

"Barbra Chenoweth?" the guard raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out," Rachel laughed lightly, trying to hide any trace of nervousness in her demeanour.

"Oh-kay... I'll let Mr. St. James know that you were kind enough to send him home..." he began to scribble on his clipboard before the brunette interrupted him with a yelp. He looked up to her in exasperation.

"Oh, that won't be necessary. I did this out of the goodness of my heart, that's all. I'm not looking for eternal gratitude or anything," she immediately covered up her previous outburst with a dazzling smile as she gave a non-committal shrug.

The guard nodded, seemingly bored with the harmless teenager. "Go right in, miss."

As she drove in, Rachel smiled to herself.

Well... she was a better actress than she thought.

Then again, it wasn't really acting back there. She really was just a harmless teenager, after all.

Recognizing the number of the house on the mailbox (it matched the one in his license) that read 'St. James', she pulled into the driveway. Trying not to gawk at the massive house sprawled before her, she turned off her engine.

Taking a moment to look around from the fountain in the courtyard to the porch, Rachel then turned to look at her passenger.

She scooted closer to him and nudged his shoulder softly.

Jesse stirred and looked over to her, sleep in his eyes.

"Hi," she breathed with a soft smile.

"Hi," he returned the smile with his own.

"You're home," she stated, glancing to the house and back to him.

"Thanks to you."

"As random as that may be... yes."

"You really are an angel," he uttered whilst leaning forward towards her, his face becoming more apparent in the light.

God, he's so beautiful.

"I'm not," Rachel whispered, her heart pounding in her ears as he didn't stop leaning forward.

Just as his lips began to brush against hers, she regained rational thought and quickly pulled back.

"Jesse, no. This is a terrible idea," she shook her head breathlessly. No matter how much she pulled back, they were still in close proximity to each other and it was driving her closer and closer to 'Bad Decision-Ville'.

"Why?" Jesse frowned as his hazel eyes searched her face.

"Because a) we don't even know each other... b) you smell like a tequila factory and c)..." Rachel began listing off as her voice gained more confidence in her (in her opinion) wise decision before it trailed off. She studied his handsome features as he watched her.

"...I really, really want to make out with you too," she whimpered, shaking her head at how desirable one boy could be.

There was a brief pause before Jesse responded.

"What about how you smell?" he threw the question right back at her, totally missing the important points of her spiel.

I hate you, alcohol.

"No, I'm pretty sure that's all you," the brunette narrowed her eyes at him, trying to hold on to whatever last shred of patience she had with the night.

"Yeah... you smell nice, actually," he nodded with a shrug of his broad shoulders as he lowered his eyes to his lap.

"Thanks," Rachel sighed, staring at him.

Just at that moment, a face suddenly popped up by the passenger window. Letting out a shriek, it took Rachel a long while to realize it was just a girl about her age.

Unfazed, Jesse popped open the door and took an unsteady step out of the car. "Hey, Manson," he greeted the said girl who stood with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched him.

"Hey, Happy Hour Hal," she answered him, her voice tinged with amusement. The girl had dreads in her hair and was clad in a 'Rolling Stones' baby-tee and sweatpants. No doubt she was probably a fellow inhabitant of the St. James manor.

Ignoring her, Jesse continued on his way towards the house.

Looking over to the driver, the said girl arched an eyebrow. "Who the Hell are you?"

"I-I'm just a friend. I didn't get him drunk if that's what you're thinking," Rachel stumbled over her words slightly, thinking it was better to not lie to the girl standing by her car. She looked like she meant business.

"It's not," she replied, staring down at the innocent-looking brunette.

"Oh... well... that's good..." Rachel responded, trying to decipher the curtness of the girl's tone.

Staring up at the menacing figure, Rachel noticed that she was actually quite pretty. Heck, her features were gorgeous. The sophomore made out her defined cheekbones, the cleft in her chin, her full lips... she held a striking resemblance to Jesse. Minus the dreadlocks in her almost black hair. She had to be related to the guy.

A wretching noise suddenly caught their attention. Both girls turned to look at the direction the sound originated from. Jesse stood, hunched over the bushes by the steps leading up to the porch. He was in the midst of heaving his guts out.

"That's just gorgeous. Whenever he starts attacking the rose bushes, you know he's not going to remember a thing tomorrow," the obvious relative of Jesse cringed in disgust as she stared at the pitiful sight.

Rachel didn't know whether to take that as a blessing or a curse.

"Is he always like this?" the young ingenue asked tentatively as she too watched Jesse continue to throw up.

"No... he's a lightweight when it comes to booze. Only downs the stuff when he's in deep shit. He's a drama emperor that way."

"Is Jesse in trouble?" came the curious question as Rachel looked up to the other girl, eyes widened.

'Dreads' met her gaze. "My parents are coming back for the weekend and he... wait, why am I telling you this again?" she arched an eyebrow, obviously not wanting to get into the whole story.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to pry," Rachel hastily apologised, sitting up straighter in her seat.

The unknown girl raised her hand, shaking it off.

"Nahh... it's cool. Look, thanks again for bringing my brother home. But, I think I'd better go do some damage control now," she quirked a smile, jabbing a thumb in Jesse's direction.

Brother. She knew it.

"Yes, of course," Rachel returned her smile and stayed there, watching as the girl jogged over to help Jesse get inside.

Sitting there alone in the comfort of the silence that surrounded her, the brunette had a serious awakening.

Rachel realized that she had just witnessed Jesse St. James, knocked off the pedestal she had built for him inside her head.

He wasn't the perfect image of the guy who could do no wrong (granted, she had given him the title in the first place).

He was real and raw with a past and he certainly had his weaknesses.

She realized she was immensely naive in not noticing all that before.

She should just take this as a lesson learned and store her experience under the category of 'petty school girl crushes'. Then, she should just move on (because really, she didn't actually know the first thing about him besides the image he projected upon other people).

So, why did her heart still flutter when she thought about his eyes, his smile...

Him.

(Imperfections and all).