Getting It Right - Deal Me In


Purple pianos.

Didn't that just so completely sum up the flamboyant ethos of New Directions? Outdated, ridiculously random, unnecessarily distracting, misplaced and misguided and utterly nonsensical. This was their plan? This was their grand attempt to salvage the shreds of their reputation and rebuild a force capable of taking the trophy from Vocal Adrenaline? Oh please. Did Schuester honestly think spontaneously bursting into cheesy song around McKinley, à la High School Musical, was going to in any way encourage anyone without a death wish to join their merry band of rejects?

It would have made him laugh if it wasn't so pitifully tragic.

Jesse sighed and slumped back in his seat. He was nearly biting through his tongue in an effort to stop his scornful thoughts from passing his lips, managing to merely roll his eyes as the eager divas of New Directions ran over to practically sprawl themselves over the offending objects as if they were coveting tips from an audience of drunk businessmen in the middle of a sleazy hotel bar. Normally he wouldn't have bothered to temper his tongue, to sheath his brutally caustic opinions, and he certainly wasn't doing it in an attempt to endear himself to this motley crew. He had just learned to save his energy. He had learned it wasn't worth the effort to waste his time on the everyday battles of frivolity they seemed intent on subjecting themselves to. It was beyond infuriating and deeply depressing, but he had finally come to the weary acceptance that this was simply the way they operated. So he had taught himself to endure. Well, mostly.

He had intended to start this new school year with a fresh strategy of dealing with his wayward and eccentric clients. The passing summer had involved a lot of rethinking and evolving game plans. Jesse was nothing if not adaptable and dedicated, and the stakes of victory were so much higher this time than they had ever been before.

Yet it was only the first day of term and already they were testing his resolve to breaking point. Clearly they required an alternate approach than that which had defined the success of Vocal Adrenaline and he had soon realised that the normal rules didn't seem to apply here, much to his chagrin. A level of childish indulgence was needed and expected, and since he was now in the minority in regards to his views on hard work and professionalism, it was a concession he was forced to adhere to. Gritting his teeth so hard it made his jaw ache, Jesse held his silence and waited as Schuester went on to explain the assignment for that week, clearly as enraptured with his own idea as the rest of the club.

The mention of the embarrassing debacle that had ensued in New York was not a surprise, nor was the flurry of side glances that darted across the room, wavering between the three players in question. A familiar knot of tension clenched in his stomach at the bitter memory, but his outward façade revealed no hint of an emotional response, adverse or otherwise. He sensed her gaze flicker in his direction, those soft warm eyes skimming over his expression with a vague apprehension, but she quickly glanced away again, returning her attention to the boy beside her with a bright smile and the awkwardness was soon lifted as the Glee kids took to their assignment with a giddy enthusiasm that could only spell disaster.

Yep, this year was going to be… interesting.

/o/

Time seemed to stretch into slow motion for one hideous moment, the dreaded yell echoing around the cafeteria like a battle cry, sealing their fate.

Rachel barely had time to blink before the room erupted in an assault of flying food stuffs. Screams and shouts pierced the air along with the barrage of slimy missiles and various projectiles that were hurled in their direction. Hands shot over heads and feet stumbled across the slippery floor as the cheerleaders and other respective students attempted to make a dash for it. People were trying to hide and clumsily falling back while still more leapt into the fray, showering the air with hot and cold debris that proceeded to find their targets with a depressing accuracy.

It was like a bad dream. In fact, she was sure she'd had this particular nightmare before – so maybe she should be grateful that at least she wasn't naked this time. But as a spray of damp cabbage hit her chest, Rachel realised that the reality of such a cruel humiliation was so much worse.

She was still reeling in horror, almost frozen on the spot, numbly resigned to the utter misery of the situation. Suddenly she flinched as a dinner tray abruptly obscured her vision, nearly slamming into her but managing to intercept the fistful of spaghetti that had been hurtling towards her face. Rachel recoiled backwards, fingers flying to her nose protectively, blinking in disorientation even as a hand shot out and grabbed hers through the commotion, holding fast and tugging strongly. She stumbled and ducked through the noise and mess, unable to do anything but follow after the commanding grip that seized her fingers and dragged her along. The tray was still held over her head, shielding her from the worst of the onslaught, their grip shifting to gather her in firmly under a sheltering arm. As Rachel tucked her head against a warm chest and huddled in tight, as she breathed in the subtle tang of citrus that lingered under the array of food stains, she suddenly realised that she knew this particular aftershave – she knew this shirt, this hand, this touch.

And it made no sense.

Emerging, blinking and dazed into the fresh air of the quad once more, Rachel quickly disentangled herself from his embrace and attempted to catch her breath.

"Jesse?"

A frown furrowed her brow as she looked back at her unexpected rescuer, squinting as if it was a trick of the sunlight, her face full of doubt even as she tried to pick the crumbs and lettuce off her dress. She would have worn white today, she thought with a grimace.

He spared her a glance in silent answer, humour dancing in his eyes despite the distaste that coloured his expression as he ran a hand through his hair and shook the food off his own clothes. Her gaze flickered down and she was aggrieved, but unsurprised, to notice that he appeared to have come off relatively unscathed from the fight – the worst of the stains easily disguised thanks to his usual dark dress code. She huffed under her breath. How typical.

She made a face, a cool note of sarcasm in her voice. "Why is it, whenever there is food being thrown – you always seem to appear?"

He didn't appear remotely fazed by her words, waving them away with an easy arrogance she had come to expect. "You're welcome," he replied dryly.

Rachel straightened up and crossed her arms as primly as she could with chilli sauce and spaghetti splotched down her dress. "Still trying to make amends, huh?"

He caught her eyes, the edge of his mouth tugging with an infuriating smugness. "I never apologise more than once."

If that.

Rachel scoffed and looked away, an irritable sigh on her lips. She was hot and sticky and had green beans down her bra, but she wasn't about to attempt to retrieve them in front of Jesse. She winced uncomfortably and he smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes that made a prickling heat creep up her neck. Rachel quickly forced herself to still, shooting him a disapproving scowl that hid her embarrassment.

"You do realise that was really, really stupid," he said at last.

She rolled her eyes, lifting her chin in the air defiantly. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"I'll certainly never understand why you guys insist on putting yourselves in the gallows of public humiliation," he quipped back. "This is a common Midwest high school with a cut-throat hierarchy, not a fucking Disney channel movie. You're not going to get a standing ovation in the middle of a lunch cafeteria."

"Well, we're never going to get any new recruits if we don't try," she pointed out, shrugging her shoulders stubbornly. "It's what the glee club does. And we need to recruit more members if we're to even qualify for Nationals. We can't be afraid of the wrath of the unenlightened masses."

"I know," he said impatiently. "But you have to earn the status to pull off stunts like that. It's simple politics. Until you can make the glee club a viable threat and trade on a decent reputation, you need to appeal to the ones who don't care about such things under the radar." He eyed her closely with a gentle frown. "Why are you so keen to put yourself on the firing line just because Schuester says so? Your self respect is worth more than that."

Rachel looked up to meet his eyes, her expression caught on the cusp of a rare uncertainty that only ever seemed to surface in his presence. She wanted to argue with him, wanted the safety of temper and scorn, but she suddenly didn't have the energy or clarity of conviction anymore. Jesse smiled in amusement, a softening in his features and darkening of his gaze that was so familiar it sent a hot ache pounding through her chest.

"You have macaroni in your hair," he murmured with a smirk.

Rachel couldn't stop the grudging curve of her lips as she was forcibly reminded of the ridiculousness of their appearance. Here they were, coated in the contents of volleyed lunch trays, having just escaped the most epic food fight McKinley had seen in years, and they were still debating the merits of her performance. She rolled her eyes. Trust him to see the funny side.

Jesse raised his hand to her head, running his fingers through her hair as he carefully picked the pasta out of the tumble of her dark locks. Rachel faltered as she violently forced down the dangerous tingle that stirred in her stomach. Her eyes quickly dropped from his, unsure what to make of the surge of butterflies that fluttered through her ribcage at the strangely tender touch.

"Not your best look," he teased, stroking his thumb so very lightly over her temple before slowly withdrawing his hand. Rachel untensed a few knots, unaware that she had been holding her breath.

She sighed wearily and sagged against the wall, closing her eyes. "They really hate us," she mumbled.

"Jealousy is an ugly emotion."

She opened her eyes and glanced over at him. There was a faint shadow to his expression, tightening the edge of his eyes and tilt of his mouth almost invisibly. She blinked and it was gone. Her gaze moved over him, an unconscious smile of laughter crossing her lips as she took in the sight of his attire again.

"What?"

"It's just…" Rachel shook her head, the grin widening as a giggle broke from her. "I think this is the most unkempt I've ever seen you. I never thought I'd see the immaculate Jesse St. James with mushy peas down his waistcoat."

Jesse gave a reluctant laugh, and the warm sound made Rachel smile as she skimmed her hand over his chest, picking off the errant shreds of food almost absently – repaying his earlier gesture.

"Things are certainly never boring around you guys," he admitted. "You just seem to attract trouble, don't you?"

"I suppose you would know," she said softly, looking up to meet his eyes. She was barely aware of her fingers as they lingered against the buttons of his shirt, not sure if she only imagined the feel of his heartbeat under her palm.

There was a fresh assault of shrieks and yells from the cafeteria behind them, and the cacophony of noise seemed to abruptly crash down on them both like shattered glass. She hastily pulled away from him, blinking down at her hands as if her body had betrayed her on purpose. Her gaze darted to the doorway, to the chaos that was still raging beyond.

Rachel chewed her lip guiltily, unsure if she had had a lucky escape or not.

/o/

It had been twenty minutes since Kurt had dropped her off at home and she had not stopped pacing the entire time. She couldn't get that damn performance out of her head. How, how, had they managed to underestimate their competitors so badly? Their arrogance had completely blinded them – they had gotten complacent. They weren't unique in their dreams or ambition and they certainly weren't the undisputed best talent of their generation. They didn't have the experience; they didn't have the credits… What if they just didn't have what it took to be a star? What if she didn't have what it took? The thought was so hopelessly frightening it cramped her stomach in pain. Crossing the floor of her bedroom one more time, she brushed a hand across her puffy eyes and sniffed loudly.

No. Kurt had been right. Enough with the pity party.

Crumpling the tissue in her hand, she flung it into her desk bin and whipped out her cell instead. As the ringtone filled her ear, her hand clenching around the phone, she tried to convince herself her finger had slipped. After all, Finn was the one she usually called in these circumstances – the one she turned to in times of crisis and who always knew what to say to make her feel better. Right? But as she pressed the phone harder to her ear, grinding her teeth as she waited for him to answer, she couldn't bring herself to disconnect.

She bitterly resented it, but she couldn't deny that he was the only person who was capable of truly understanding her fear right now.

"They were absolutely amazing!" she blurted out angrily the moment she heard him pick up. "No, they were fucking phenomenal. I've never been so humiliated in my life, and that's really saying something. Why didn't you tell me they were that good?"

He didn't seem the least bit perturbed by her furious outburst.

"Because you wouldn't have believed me," he replied calmly. "You needed to see it for yourself. Welcome to the big wide world, Rachel. Consider it a long overdue wake up call."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"Look, you're an exceptionally talented performer. I've never said otherwise." She thought she heard him sigh quietly, and when he spoke again it was with a crushing conviction that struck right through her heart, settling down into the marrow of her bones. "But you're also extremely deluded and sheltered and it's made you vulnerable. You're used to being a big fish in a small pond. But that, what you saw tonight – that's real competition. Those are the people who want it just as much, who work even harder, who make every sacrifice and spend every minute of every day honing their talents until they are razor sharp enough to tear their rivals to shreds."

Rachel felt a swell of defensive anger break over her, burning through the tears that stung her eyes. She knew he was speaking the truth, that there was no maliciousness in his harsh words, but that didn't do anything to appease her grief or temper. "How the hell would you know?" she shot back scornfully.

"Because I auditioned for that school, Rachel."

There was a heavy pause as his reply sunk in. She blinked slowly, her mind scrambling to grasp the connotations and put a voice to them, her emotions struggling to keep up. Jesse was still the only one who could ever take the wind out of her sails.

"And you didn't…"

"Missed out by one place."

His answer was flat and blunt and she swallowed thickly. Rachel felt the mattress at the back of her knees and numbly sank down onto her bed. "Oh," she breathed quietly, a soft note of incredulity in her voice. It seemed almost impossible to comprehend. This was Jesse after all. Jesse St. James didn't fail. Well, unless you count flunking out of UCLA. But Rachel wasn't entirely sure she did, suspecting that there had been other factors involved in that academic retreat, the one that had ultimately brought him back into her orbit.

She wanted to say that she was sorry, to ask him if he had plans to try again, but she couldn't quite bring herself to, knowing all too well that he didn't want to hear such condolences. Not from her. Apology had never been an easy bridge between them. Not after all they had been through.

"Rejection is something you have to accept and get used to," he went on at last, a gentle but firm edge to his tone. "You can't let it break you or get the better of you. Competition is hard and rough and relentless, and it's only going to get tougher as you move up the ranks. Schuester is doing you guys no favours by shielding you from all of that. You have to know the extent of what you are up against in order to make sure you are ready for it. I know it sucks but you have to use it to your advantage, use it to make you stronger, because you won't survive if you can't handle yourself in the face of that kind of fight." The beat of hesitation was brief but loaded. "Some things you have to learn the hard way, Rachel."

She took a deep breath, clenching a hand into the covers of her bed and closing her eyes. The question escaped her before she could stop it, soft and barely audible. "What if I'm not good enough?" she whispered brokenly, hating the waver of tears in her voice, the knot of fear in her chest threatening to choke her. The secret insecurity that haunted her every day, locked away in silence in a very dark corner of her mind. "Not everyone is cut out to be a star."

There was a moment before he answered her.

"True," he admitted slowly. There was an indefinable note of tenderness in his voice, tinged with the usual affectionate amusement that always came at her expense. "But some people are born to be."

Rachel felt a fresh dampness upon her cheeks, yet the cool streaks were warmed by the trembling smile that graced her lips. Kurt had said almost the same thing, and yet she didn't know why Jesse's words plunged so much deeper, held so much more power. She knew the doubt wouldn't be so quickly assuaged and that she still had a rocky road ahead of her. This school was her path into New York, into her future and the bright lights of her dreams. Yet if Jesse, with all his extra curricular credits and Vocal Adrenaline clout, if he had still been turned away – what did that say about their impossible standards? She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, wanting to ask him more questions but forcing herself to keep quiet. They could wait until another day.

The silence was easy and undemanding as it stretched between them, both parties taking a moment to let the whisper of the unspoken fill the air. Jesse was the first to speak, breaking the quiet with the melodic timbre of his voice once more.

"How did Kurt take it?"

"About as well as me."

"Cried like a girl?" he teased, though not unkindly.

Rachel gave a watery laugh. "Pretty much." She rubbed the back of her hand over her face before shuffling along to let herself fall back flat against the bed, sinking into the pillows that gathered under her head. "But at least he's still got something to celebrate this week. I imagine Blaine is comforting him as we speak."

"Oh yeah, I heard his beau had transferred over to your team." He sighed dramatically. "All very sweet but rather unoriginal if you ask me. Kinda stole my thunder a bit."

"Yeah," Rachel said with a touch of bitterness, rolling her eyes. "Except he actually did it for love."

She could hear him smiling through the phone.

/o/

The shock of pink hair was clearly visible through the shadows of the stands.

She was lighting up another cigarette as he approached, the smoke curling around the silver hoop of her nose ring as she exhaled a deep breath. The slashed crop of her shirt revealed a glimpse of her celebrity tattoo as she moved to speak to another girl with an equally bored expression; one who looked like her face would fracture if she ever cracked a smile. She had definitely thoroughly researched the grunge look, and in a way, it was oddly working for her. Sure, it wasn't his thing, but who was he to judge.

Quinn Fabray certainly didn't do anything by halves, and he respected that at least.

The other girls noticed him first and they all straightened up, stiffening in unwelcome, their gazes a cautious mixture of hostility and intrigue. He didn't spare them a look of acknowledgement, merely slouching back against the metal stand as he waited for the former head cheerleader to sense the intrusion to her inner circle.

Those heavily black lined eyes briefly widened in surprise as she turned around to see what had drawn the attention of her friends. She had expected it to be another misguided member of her old team, maybe Rachel again, or even Mr. Schue – and she was fully prepared to scorn their attempts at reconciliation all over again. She was certainly not expecting the silent figure of Jesse St. James to be the one to greet her.

Well, this was new. She couldn't remember him ever bothering to go out of his way to speak to her during any of his past encounters with New Directions – why the hell would he be seeking her out now? Her gaze abruptly narrowed as it alighted upon his face, their eyes locking equally unflinchingly, her expression rife with distain.

This was the lamest attempt yet to get her back on side.

"What do you want?" she demanded in a bored drawl, her lips twisting mockingly. "Come to try and talk me into going back to glee club too? Didn't figure you for a messenger boy."

His mouth curved in an arrogant smirk though his eyes were just as hard as her own. "Actually, I'm more curious than anything else. I wanted to see it for myself." He nodded his head towards her dismissively. "After all, this is possibly the most note-worthy thing you've done since going into labour in the middle of a Regionals competition."

She scowled darkly at his smug condescension. He was still a conceited asshole.

Jesse was completely nonplussed at the array of glares levelled at him. He held Quinn's gaze with an unnerving coolness, a shadow of a smile on his lips. "Agreeing to torch the piano was a nice touch," he went on, a hint of almost pride in his voice. "I think you made your point."

"And what point is that?"

He was quiet for a moment as he studied her before lifting his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug, glancing away with disinterest. "You're fed up of it all. You're fucked and frustrated and pissed off – I get it." A tight smile quirked his lips for the briefest moment as he gazed out into the empty shadows. "Believe me, I get it. And you're doing the rebellious thing. Fine, but trust me – it gets old quick." His eyes turned back to hers and regarded the wary suspicion they found there. "But there are better ways of playing the game."

"I'm not playing any game," she replied stiffly.

"Everyone is," he interrupted, ignoring her objection. "Such is life. There are no outs 'til the final hand. And you're going to have to learn to deal with it."

She was quiet for a long moment. The skanks were silent behind her, strangely captivated by the tense exchange going on before them. Quinn rolled the cigarette between her knuckles as she regarded the boy in front of her, unsure what exactly he was trying to tell her, undecided about whether to listen.

"How?" she asked at last, her tone still unfriendly and deeply sceptical.

"By finding something worth fighting for."

She raised an eyebrow, a scoff on her lips. "And that's glee club is it?"

Jesse shrugged, a wry humour in his eyes. "Only you can make that call. Only you can decide the priorities of your own life. But if you don't look out for yourself first, if you're not prepared to fight your own corner, no one will. It's very easy to fall by the wayside, and I can tell you now – apathy is the ultimate downer."

Quinn frowned as they exchanged stony stares for a moment longer, trying to gauge the sincerity and truth to be found in such advice, still struggling to comprehend the unexpected source it had come from. After a beat of strained silence, Jesse finally straightened up and made to turn around, exiting the scene just as inexplicably as he had entered it.

She called out before she could help herself, her own curiosity getting the better of her.

"Why are you still here then? Don't you have better things to do than tutor some hopeless misfits?" she asked sarcastically. "I thought you had bigger plans than hanging around this dead-end town for another year?"

Jesse turned back to meet her, a taunting smirk on his face. "Who says I don't?"

Quinn watched him for a moment, eyes narrowed in thought. "You won't win, you know." She swung her gaze away, a creeping resentment breaking through her words as she lowered her voice almost tiredly. "No one ever wins with those two."

"The war isn't over until the final showdown. And who knows," he added with a twitch of his lips as she met his eyes again. "That alone might be worth sticking around for."

"You really believe she's worth it?"

Jesse smiled. "See you around, Quinn."

/o/

"These pianos are still making music. And so are we."

Jesse groaned. He didn't just say that, did he? With a straight face? This guy really should be fronting after school specials or something if he's going to insist on coming out with lines as wooden as that.

The sorry states of the purple pianos were sat upon the choir room floor, burnt and broken and trashed and yet still standing as symbols of inspiration in the eyes of New Directions. Casting a glance over the team who sat in the chairs behind him, Jesse considered again the sanity of his decision to stay. Towards the middle of the row, Finn had a gangly arm slung over Rachel's shoulders as she perched happily by his side – the club's woefully inadequate 'power couple' back on their thrones. Feeling a familiar wrench of disgust in his gut, Jesse was just about to return his attention back to his notes when she tilted her head an inch in his direction and caught his eyes shyly, a tentative smile of truce on her lips.

It was a fleeting connection and one broken far too quickly but it was enough to make him smirk to himself as he lowered his eyes to his notepad once more. He was under no illusions – he knew he had his work cut out for him this year, in more ways than one. But Jesse St. James was never one to throw his hand in, and the game had only just begun.

~o~


AN I can't believe I'm attempting to start another multi-chap when I can't even update the ones I have going! *headdesk* But with the return of Glee to our screens, the prevalence of Finchel and no Jesse in sight to offer hope – the St. Berry love needs all the help it can get. Also, I blame AlexisLovesGlee for putting the idea of a Season Three rewrite into my head! ;) I have honestly no clue how this is going to work or pan out, but we'll see.

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed. As ever, reviews make my day shiny :)