Greetings. One reviewer asked in the last chapter for further clarification of Jesse's role back in McKinley. So just to confirm the status of things, Jesse is still acting as a hired consultant for ND. Now, without further ado, here's the next episode.


Getting It Right - Fractures


First days were always rough.

It was hard not to get swept along in the tide of students that surged through the labyrinth of strange new corridors in the morning rush hour, and Rory found himself side-stepping one student only to accidently knock into another. Uttering a stream of unheard apologies, he ducked into another hallway and tried to get his bearings, glancing down again at the class schedule that had been thrust unceremoniously into his hands by a harassed young woman in the school office he had just vacated. Squinting to try and read the sign on the nearest door, he resisted the urge to sigh as he felt this attempt at orientation slipping further into dismal failure. Maybe he should have asked Britt to accompany him to get his registration papers after all – but then that might have shattered the illusion just a little bit.

The ruckus of brash, foreign accents that flew about him felt a little disorienting, and a sudden swell of homesickness washed over him. Everything was so much bigger and louder over here… it would take a bit of getting used to. His fingers drifted longingly towards the phone in his pocket, aching for the comfort of a familiar voice, but then he caught himself and quickly quelled the impulse. Setting his jaw, he raised his head and set off again in search of his first lesson.

Edging his way into the crowd of bodies once more, he twisted about in vain for some hint of useful signage, before stumbling back a step as another stray shoulder bumped into his.

"Oh, excuse me," he mumbled automatically.

"Excuse you."

Looking up in surprise at the frosty retort, he glimpsed a flick of short blonde hair as the girl in question promptly returned to ignoring his existence, pushing past him and striding away without a backward glance. Stunned by her rude reaction, he turned around and watched her cut a path through the crowd with a direction of purpose that he couldn't help but envy. Barely aware of the passing students who buffered his temporarily inert body in the middle of the hallway, he found himself wondering who she was and just what status she held in this school to move with such authority and confidence. Or maybe, she simply didn't care.

It was then Rory caught sight of the boy standing at the doors just up ahead, slouched back with an unhurried ease that seemed out of place in the bustling corridor and yet utterly natural at the same time. There was an assurance in the student's stance that made him seem older than his peers somehow, an air of experience that extended beyond his expensive fashion style and dark, unapologetic eyes. Arms crossed expectantly over his chest as if he were waiting for her, he seemed to have observed the fleetingly hostile exchange with an amused expression, only the corners of his mouth giving him away. As Rory watched, the girl reached their silent onlooker and brushed by him, turning the corner into a connecting hallway. Without a word or look exchanged between them that he could see, the boy sent one last faint, almost-sympathetic-if-you-squinted smile in his direction, before pushing off the wall and following after her.

Rory's gaze followed the strangers curiously for a moment as they disappeared from view. Shaking his head, he sighed under his breath. Didn't matter where in the world you were, the new kid was always the pariah.

However this theory was debunked barely a moment later when he was practically accosted by a bubbling whirlwind of colourful energy, one that talked so fast he struggled to separate out the words.

"Vote Rachel Berry!" she chirped brightly, pushing a button and leaflet into his hands before he could react to her sudden appearance with anything other than dumb surprise. The petite brunette seemed to cast her gaze over him at lightening speed, eyeing him appraisingly. She apparently had little concept of personal space and Rory found himself leaning back slightly as she chatted away cheerily.

"You're new, huh?" she declared, looking positively thrilled at the concept. "Welcome to McKinley!"

"Uh, thanks," he stuttered, thrown off by the contrast in attitudes he had experienced in less than a few minutes. He smiled back, unable not to be affected by her enthusiasm. It was nice to know there was someone at this school capable of being friendly, no matter how politically motivated the gesture may be. He pulled up the papers that were still gripped in his other hand, figuring he might as well seize to opportunity. "Um, actually, do you know where classroom 12A is?"

"Oh that's great," she interrupted distractedly, her eyes darting over his shoulder and lighting up happily, clearly not taking in a word he had said. "Will you excuse me?"

Rory turned around just in time to see her bound up and grab the arm of a tall gangly boy who looked vaguely familiar. However before he could place the kid's face, both were lost in the crush a moment later, the small brunette babbling away as she pulled the weary looking boy down the hallway to corner some more students on her campaign rally.

Shrugging his shoulders, he turned back and walked on. Yet he had barely taken half a dozen steps before he was confronted by another smiling face and propaganda pin, the surprise almost causing him to back into a locker. This boy was just as eager and unrelentingly optimistic as his rival, with an almost blinding sense of fashion, and once again Rory struggled to get a word in edgeways. Did everyone in this school speak in monologues?

"I hope I can count on your vote," the presidential hopeful announced finally, flashing a dazzling smile before his attention was suddenly diverted by the sight of someone behind them. "Oh, Blaine, wait up!"

He blinked as the boy called out over the heads of the crowd, sparing him only a quick nod of acknowledgment before dashing off in blur of sparkles and sheen. Bloody hell, he was getting a crick in his neck from the speed these kids moved at. Left standing there rather bemused, Rory frowned down at the two campaign pins in his hand. It seemed a bit too early to be claiming allegiances and so he stuck them both into his pocket.

Looking up again, he smiled in relief as he finally saw a familiar face. Pulling on his bag strap and adjusting his specially purchased hat to a suitably jaunty angle, one befitting of a mythical mischief maker, he put all thoughts of actually locating his class to one side and made his way over to her side.

"Top of the morning, Brittany."

She grinned and turned around, her eyes sparkling as she twirled the pen top between her fingers the way a wood nymph would play with a flower. "Okay, first of all, you look magical and amazing," she breathed in awe before fixing him with a serious look of concern. "But I don't understand what you're saying. So if you want to make it in this land, you really need to speak English."

Rory smiled in gentle amusement. She was possibly the sweetest, not to mention hottest, girl he'd ever met in his life. And that was one hell of a combination. So if it took pretending to be a magical creature of Irish folklore to impress her, he was more than willing to indulge the stereotype.

After all, what was the worst that could happen?

/o/

"The point is right now we shouldn't be turning on each other."

That made him raise a subtle eyebrow, pausing for a second to shake his head incredulously before returning his attention back to the sketch he was currently doodling on the bottom of his notepad. This was their idea of a team at war? A few passing shots of blame and a little name-calling? Please, this was child's play. When someone had a grudge with you in VA, they'd try and back over you in the parking lot, or at least have the ambition to hack into your school records. These kids really had no imagination.

Tuning out the inane chatter as best he could, Jesse rode out his boredom with a professional silence. He had learned it was quickest to simply let them get their whining out the way first before attempting to impart any constructive insight to how they should actually be spending this time. Any interruption would only drag it all out longer. It never ceased to amaze him how the hell New Directions had ever managed to win any competitions at all when their so-called practices consisted more of long-winded speeches and petty sniping than any form of physical or vocal training, not to mention any hint of forward planning. This wasn't a fucking town meeting – this was supposed to be an established team that hoped to somehow compete and win at National level. He rolled his eyes, the frustrated gesture hidden behind the fall of his curls. They really took coasting, to a whole new definition.

It took him a moment to realise the Dalton kid had stood up and added his voice to the debate.

"I agree. No show choir is just one person –"

"Depends on the one," Jesse murmured. He glimpsed Schuester send him an exasperated look and reluctantly waved his hand in submission, dropping the point. He sighed. Their choir room, their rules, and god forbid anyone rocked their precious boat.

Blaine was soon speaking again and Jesse noticed to his amusement that Finn appeared less than happy about it.

"Dude, I know you're a big deal at Dalton or whatever," the jock gibed sarcastically, "but we don't wear blazers here so have a seat, I'm trying to give a pep talk."

Jesse smiled to himself, lowering his gaze once more with a chuckle. It was interesting to see Finn vent his inferiority complex on someone else for a change, trying so desperately to cling onto his top position within the group. Envy really brought out the worst of Finn's already overindulged childish behaviour. However it was still entertaining to watch him scowl and sulk every time their newest member opened his mouth, fumbling to try and re-exert his pitiful stance of authority over the team.

And he should be worried. Blaine may be nowhere near Jesse's level, but he was still undoubtedly far superior to Finn – exceeding him in all terms of talent, personality and the charisma of leadership. The kid definitely had something about him. And while Jesse could concede and respect that, he knew from first hand experience that Finn had never been capable of handling the threat of competition with any dignity or skill. A thin smile crossed his lips as his thoughts stirred forth memories of the days when he had been in this club as a member rather than a consultant, and the déjà vu was uncanny. Finn's brooding jealousy really was all too familiar broken record.

Truth be told, Jesse wished it could still be him – that he was still in a position to compete so openly and claim the spotlight that was rightfully his. It was a sacrifice he took willingly, but some days were so much harder than others. Jesse hated being on the sidelines, painfully resented curbing his competitive instincts, and he missed the exhilaration and pure freedom of performing so much it often kept him awake at night. Consultancy was not his chosen vocation – he belonged on the stage, not in the wings – but it was a necessity right now and there were higher stakes at play this time than the next starring solo. Not to mention, it was all a very valuable creative experience to have in your armoury.

And yet as much as he enjoyed seeing Hudson displaying his immature ego for all to see – the fact remained that if Jesse had to listen to another one of the jock's woefully pathetic 'pep talks', he might just have to walk out in front of a bus. He sighed. If only some people would see such behaviour for what it was, he thought irritably as Finn sat back down only for Rachel to bury her head in his shoulder, clinging to him despondently while mumbling something about changing her name to Maria as she despaired at the fresh peril of her musical.

A frown passed over his face as he turned his thoughts in a similar direction. This campaign vendetta was proving to be a nuisance he could do without. As far as Jesse was concerned, politics had no place interfering in the arts – the arts were there to hold a mirror up to politics, to explore the human condition, and that was a right that couldn't be broken. Sure, lack of funding might be a problem but it was hardly the disaster they were all envisaging, there were always ways around it. They may not have Carmel's enviable budget at their disposal but they were by no means without options.

There was a familiar clatter of feet and chairs around him as the group finally split up, armed with some optimistic plans about canvassing the neighbourhood for ad revenue. Jesse took his time gathering up his stuff, waiting for Schuester to finish talking to the kids before stepping up to run over the week's schedule with him. While it was well known that Jesse did not see eye to eye with the teacher on the way he ran the club, with a great deal of restraint and skilful manoeuvring on his part, the two of them were gradually managing to work out a middle ground. A grudging compromise that took into account a long term game plan this time around.

A touch on his shoulder distracted him however, a small but deliberate caress of fingers that made him still and the corners of his lips quirk knowingly. Cool fingertips skimmed ever so lightly up his neck, lingering just long enough to ensure she had his attention, before he heard the scrape of a chair as someone stood up behind him. Tilting his head an inch he took in the elegant curves of her figure as she stepped down, her hand trailing lazily along his arm as she drifted past him, her gaze flickering in his direction with an almost invisible smile.

Across the room, a pair of hazel eyes quickly tore themselves away from the silent exchange, hating herself for watching even as she pretended not to.

/o/

She knew he would follow her.

Quinn smiled but didn't look back as they all filtered noisily out of the choir room when the meeting was called to an end, aware only that he was close enough to be felt but not enough to be overtly conspicuous. Not yet. He caught up to her in the next corridor, pressing close behind her within the shadow of a doorframe, and she shivered as she felt his knuckles glide down her back.

"That was mean," he reprimanded teasingly, his voice hot and soft in her ear.

She arched a perfectly pencilled eyebrow, a sly glint in her eyes even though she didn't turn to face him. "Isn't that the point?"

Jesse smirked, letting his hand wander over her waist with a light squeeze before disappearing once more, melting back into the crowded hallway like a ghost. Quinn looked after him with an expression of reluctant admiration as she contemplated the needling burn in the pit of her stomach that he had managed to stoke in barely half a minute of contact. Damn, that boy had skills. She cocked a thoughtful eyebrow, a small smile on her lips. This could prove to be very interesting indeed.

/o/

The door to the restrooms swung back into place behind her as Rachel re-emerged into the bustling restaurant. She paused for a moment, letting her gaze sweep over the room in absent contemplation, tucking the waves of her hair back behind her ear. It was busier than she had expected for a week night, but Breadstix had always been the most popular local haunt. It was one of the few quality bistros in the neighbourhood, conveniently close by and the prices were reasonable enough to enjoy a dinner out without having to make the trip into the city hub.

She was just about to turn and head back to her seat when her eyes fell on something that made her start in place. Or rather, someone.

She squinted uncertainly for a moment, due to the fact that she could only glimpse his profile from across the room, yet there was no mistaking that particular stance of quiet arrogance that he embodied so easily. He was standing at the counter, leaning over his elbows with a mildly irritated expression of boredom on his angled features – one that usually meant he was being made to wait for something. He was dressed in his usual dark dress code, his black denim jacket tight across his hunched shoulders, the stillness of his figure standing in stark contract to the hum of activity that surrounded them.

Rachel hesitated and cast a quick glance back over to her table, but her dads were in deep conversation and probably wouldn't miss her absence for a few more minutes. Looking over, she chewed her lip as she debated with herself, arguing her better judgement into submission with the same stubbornness she used on her teammates. She was just being friendly, sociable. There was no harm in just saying hello after all. She was offering the olive branch, being the bigger person. At least, that was what she told herself as she straightened up and made her way over to him.

She could think of half a dozen snide comments to greet him with, any attempt to make a bid for the upper hand, but as she approached his side of the restaurant she reluctantly put them all aside. She was tired of always being on the defensive. Instead, she drew a deep breath and offered only a tentative smile as she came to stand next to him.

"Hi."

He looked round. If he was startled at all by her appearance, he didn't show it. If anything, he appeared almost unsure what to make of the conciliatory pitch of her voice. There was a slight crease to his guarded eyes, as if decoding the tone of her greeting, his gaze all the more heavy in the beat of silence he took to answer her.

"Hi," he said at last.

Rachel fidgeted for a second before catching herself and forcing herself to be still. She longed to interrogate him on Quinn, but somehow managed to restrain herself. It shouldn't matter to her anyway she told herself sternly, and she was not about to give him the impression that she spared any thoughts whatsoever about the state of his personal life.

Grasping for a safe subject, she gestured vaguely over the counter they were currently standing beside.

"Picking up some takeout?" She mentally grimaced at the embarrassment of stating the obvious, but he gave a wry smile in response.

"Yeah." He shrugged carelessly. "Forgot to do the whole food shopping thing, so it seemed like a valid alternative."

"Oh sure, like you ever actually cook," she teased, a glimmer of their old sparring banter resurfacing between them, much to her relief.

Jesse quirked a playful eyebrow. "I have many hidden talents."

She scoffed but then faltered as she saw his smile fade all too quickly, a strain of tension returning to his features. "And what about you?" He glanced away across the counter once more, his tone hardening distinctly with a bitterness that echoed the shadow of his lips. "Date night?"

She frowned, feeling her defensiveness stirring again. Jesse's moods were so damn mercurial these days that she often struggled to keep up. Why could he never just say what he was thinking outright? Why did they always have to talk in layers of code? Maybe it was a guy thing. And yet, she never had this problem with Finn.

"Family dinner," she said after a moment.

Jesse turned his head to where she gestured, quickly picking out the familiar figures of her dads across the restaurant. "Oh," he murmured under his breath. Rachel watched curiously as the edge of hostility retreated from his eyes, softening his expression into something almost like weariness, though he still didn't quite meet her gaze. She wondered if that was meant to count as an apology.

Lifting her head, Rachel swallowed down her reservations and made a concerted effort. They hadn't spoken properly since he chewed her out over the auditions after all, and she didn't like it. "Yeah," she offered a little awkwardly. "I think they're trying to cheer me up."

He finally met her eyes again and she gave a half shrug in explanation, making no attempt to hide the abject disappointment in her voice. "Since it looks like the musical is going under and the world will never get the chance to see my inspiring interpretation of Maria."

Jesse smiled. "That won't happen."

"What makes you so sure?" she retorted, pouting glumly.

"Because you're you," he replied easily, his eyes warm with amusement. "And if the very stages of Broadway collapsed, you would just find an even bigger platform to shine on."

Rachel felt a heat creep up her neck as she stared at him, caught at an uncharacteristic loss for words, which only made Jesse smirk more. Why did she only ever lose her voice around him? Quickly looking away, she turned her gaze out into the restaurant once more, searching for a change of topic to spare her from having to think up a response. It was strange but as much as Rachel lived and thrived on praise and accolades, it was only ever Jesse's cuttingly honest and often backhanded compliments that left her speechless, that made her feel somehow humbled. Maybe because she knew just how rarely his approval was bestowed.

Thankfully, her wish for a subject of avoidance was answered as her eyes fell upon another table not far away from them.

"Is that Britt and Santana?" she muttered to no-one in particular, tilting her head in curiosity.

"Looks like it."

Jesse turned his gaze in the same direction, taking in the scene with a needle sharp perception that lasted all of half a second. Rachel was fidgeting again, grasping for a pretext to make her excuses.

"Maybe I'll just go and say hi –"

"I wouldn't if I were you."

Rachel frowned at the blunt comment, throwing an irritable glare at him, but Jesse merely cast his eyes over the menu he had pulled into his hands, unconcerned. He spoke without looking up.

"They won't thank you for the interruption."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded.

Finally meeting her face again, Jesse studied her with an almost sceptical expression for a moment before flicking his eyes pointedly back at the cheerleaders' table. Confused, Rachel followed his gaze back to Brittany and Santana, not sure just what he was getting at. But then her eyes widened an inch as she saw the girls reach across the table and link hands shyly, the intimacy in their expressions impossible to mistake. There was a tenderness in the way they looked at each other that Rachel had never witnessed before, especially in the Latina. Santana almost seemed to glow in the happiness such a simple touch elicited. The realisation clicked into place so abruptly that she felt more than mildly foolish "Oh," she murmured quietly.

Jesse observed her reaction with an amused smile. "What, you didn't know?"

"Well, sure, I knew there was something between them," Rachel stuttered, embarrassed. "But I didn't think it was serious. I didn't know they were together, together."

He grinned, shaking his head slightly. Her complete obliviousness to anything outside of her own drama was ridiculously endearing. "Come on, it was so obvious. I'm disappointed, Rach. I would have figured you of all people would have a finely tuned gaydar."

"Jesse!" she scolded, smacking him lightly in the chest. Returning her attention to the other table again, her brow creased as she saw the couple furtively cover their entwined hands under a napkin. They didn't think they had anything to be ashamed of, surely? Rachel felt something drop down into the pit of her stomach, cold and painful. That was just wrong. If they were happy then they had every right to share it with all the world if they wanted to. True happiness was something so rare and fragile after all, it deserved to be celebrated whenever it could.

She was distracted from her thoughts as she heard Jesse speak up from beside her, his tone thoughtful and sombre once more.

"Good for them," he muttered softly. "At least there are some people brave enough to go for what they want."

Rachel frowned but before she could turn to him and raise a question in retort, they were interrupted by a young girl in a neatly pressed uniform who popped up on the other side of the counter. The smiling waitress handed over a bag that smelled of all kinds of delicious things, flashing a set of perfect white teeth and flirting so blatantly with Jesse that Rachel felt a scowl settle over her features despite herself. The former lead of Vocal Adrenaline offered a polite half smile to his young admirer in return, before picking up his dinner and heading out of the restaurant without a word of farewell, leaving Rachel battling a fresh wave of frustration in his wake.

/o/

"This is to remind us what glee is all about, which is just fun."

Oh, silly him, he thought it was about winning Nationals. Jesse sighed again at their skewed sense of priorities. Fair enough, he could see the logic in letting off steam now and again, his brief alliance with this club a few years ago had taught him the reluctant value of that at least, but you could never afford to take your eye off the ball when you were in the throws of ruthless competition. Not if you were serious about winning.

Blaine clearly came from a background with a similar ethos to New Directions, which is exactly why his former team hadn't ever made it to Nationals before. Jesse had always made a point of keeping tabs on their rivals, and while the Warblers had never registered as anything worth noting during his time at Carmel, that didn't mean he wasn't aware of their potential or unable to respect their talent. Recently they had been making more noise, making it through to Regionals last year in that curious result and gaining a growing recognition. Yet there was no dignity in a draw as far as Jesse was concerned, and it was beyond him how they could all embrace it so happily. Further proof that they really were worlds apart from him and Vocal Adrenaline.

He grimaced as the music started up. Did this guy have a Katy Perry fetish or something? Yet as Blaine began singing away to the opening lyrics of TGIF, bopping about so enthusiastically that he drew a smile even from Jesse, the energy of his good mood proved surprising infectious. Grudging truth be told, he actually kind of liked Blaine. Anyone who annoyed Finn that much automatically went up in Jesse's estimation. He didn't even mind him starring opposite Rachel in their newly rekindled West Side Story production. Well, he certainly minded it the least out of the alternative options for her fellow romantic lead.

The whole room was soon on their feet, skipping about and climbing on the furniture like kids at recess. Jesse raised an eyebrow as Quinn appeared in front of him, flashing him a teasing smile before reaching for his hands and pulling him up to join the dance before he could object. The music was blaring as Blaine belted out the vocals over the backing chorus of his team, the floor full of pumping fists and twirling bodies, smiles and laughter running riot as New Directions gave themselves over to the frivolity of the moment as only they ever could.

Rachel giggled as Blaine lifted her down from the tabletop, spinning her briefly before putting her back on her ground and dashing off to chase after Kurt. Dancing around Artie, she grinned and twirled nimbly on her toes, turning to search out her boyfriend in the crowd, only to frown as she glimpsed another couple from across the room.

She couldn't remember the last time she had seen Jesse laugh so opening, a grin spreading across his lips that was echoed by the girl in his arms as she spun smoothly back into his embrace. Rachel felt her throat close up sickeningly, distracting her so much that she lost the beat of the song, slipping out of the rhythm. She didn't know why she couldn't look away, why such a sight bothered her so much when it had no right to. She watched as Jesse's hand slid across the former cheerleader's stomach, the gesture slow and soft and subtle, but it made Rachel narrow her eyes all the same. He turned his head and spoke something into her ear, something that made Quinn's eyes lower, a smile tug her lips. Something secret.

Rachel hated secrets.

However before she could contemplate the scene any further, she was abruptly distracted by Blaine's smiling face as he popped up beside her, driving all other thoughts from her mind as he grinned and pulled her away into a dance. Laughing, Rachel dived in gratefully, losing herself in the frantic energy of the music once more. When she finally emerged from his twirling arms again, she noticed that Jesse had since moved off to the side of the floor, preferring to observe from a distance, but his attention was no longer focused on Quinn. Rachel quickly looked away from the lock of his eyes, gritting her teeth, not knowing which one drove her crazier.

Jesse watched with amusement as Rachel practically rushed over into the safety of Finn's embrace a moment later, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing close with a smile, before dropping back into her seat and clapping exuberantly as the song drew to an end.

"You guys, that song is amazing! I think we should do it for Sectionals!"

Jesse threw a dubious look across the room at her exclamation. He knew that Rachel got swept up in their performances sometimes, but she should know by now that they were not going to win Sectionals with that song. Chick rock would only get you so far. He was entirely unsurprised however when Santana piped up irritably a moment later, airing her brewing discontent with all her usual tact. He could have pre-empted this disgruntled confrontation a mile off. Jesse knew Shelby's tactics. He'd seen Mercedes whispering away in Santana's ear recently, and it was only a matter of time before further fractures appeared. His dear mentor always did get other people to do her dirty work, he thought bitterly.

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as the Latina stalked off though. The Blaine and Rachel show, huh? Well, that certainly beat the Finn and Rachel gag-a-thon they were currently being forced to endure.

/o/

Tapping her pencil against the textbook, she cast her eyes over the equations that covered the pages, a satisfied smile brushing her lips as she quickly deduced the correct formulas to use. It wouldn't take her more than half an hour to finish the last of her homework assignments and then she could finally break out of here. While she was still a little behind in English and chemistry, it hadn't been hard at all for her to catch up, and even skip ahead, with all the math lessons she had skipped out on at the start of term. In fact, the truth was that she had never had a problem grasping the finer points of mathematics. She honestly didn't know why she found numbers so easy, why the logic and rules of even the most complex equations just seemed to click inside her mind, but it wasn't a skill she was about to share with the world.

The thump of a bag dropping onto her table pulled her from her thoughts, though she didn't bother to look up in greeting.

"I'm impressed," remarked a softly mocking voice from over her shoulder. "I didn't think you knew where the library even was."

When she pointedly ignored his comment, he merely turned and sat down on the table top beside her, propping his feet up in the plastic chair and making himself at home with all the ease as if he had been invited. Quinn finally looked up with a sigh, eyeing him irritably, though the slight curve of her lips betrayed her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked impatiently. "Do you just hang around the school all day in between rehearsals? That's pretty lame."

"Research," he explained with a smile, leaning back on his hands. "Someone has to actually put in the prep time for you lazy lot."

Quinn glanced to his side and saw the bulging folder of music sheets and notes poking out of his bag. She cocked a thoughtful eyebrow. "Huh. So you actually care about New Directions?"

"I care about my reputation," he corrected. "As long as my name is associated with you guys, it's in my interests to give you the benefit of my winning expertise."

"Just seems a little odd." He raised an eyebrow in question and Quinn waved a vague hand. "You hardly seem overly concerned about the recent spate of defections over to your former coach."

"Why would I be?"

"Well, as the hired consultant you would think it would be of some cause of interest to you. We're bleeding members left and right at the moment. Any great strategy to deal with that?"

Jesse shrugged. "What's senior year without a little drama? A few temporarily wayward members is nothing to cry about, and you can't lose your head at a time like this. Trust me, you have to bide your time with Shelby. It's a game of nerve and subtleties." Leaning down, he plucked a book out of her open bag that sat at his feet. "Speaking of which…" He drew his eyes over the title with a dry smile. Basics of Baby Sacrifice. "A little extracurricular reading?"

Quinn scowled as she snatched it away from him, thrusting the book back into her bag and casting her eyes about in case any nosy students or staff were lurking anywhere near their secluded corner. "You're not the only one with a plan," she muttered, making an effort to keep her voice low enough not to attract attention, even though there was no-one else in their direct vicinity.

A frown settled over his face as he regarded her. "You're really sure about this?"

She shot him an icy glare to which he didn't even flinch. "We've had this conversation before, remember. I have to get her back. I need her back." She shuddered, her voice dropping so low he almost didn't hear her next words. "Have you seen her?"

Jesse was silent as he shook his head. Quinn sighed, closing her eyes as if the memory somehow pained her. "She's… perfect. And I made her. The only thing I may ever do right in my life."

"So you figure you can just break into Shelby's apartment and plant implicating evidence? That's pretty fucked up, even for you."

A mirthless smile touched her lips. "Actually I figure I can do it legitimately. Offer to babysit."

"There's no way Shelby will allow you to be alone with Beth yet," Jesse pointed out, instantly dismissing the idea. "After all, you were McKinley's poster rebel child only a few weeks ago. Soulful transformations are meant to take a little more time," he added with a knowing smirk before retuning to the conviction of his argument. "No matter what she says about wanting you in her life, Shelby's too smart to invite you in unsupervised, just like that. You have to play this sincerely, box clever. Talk to a lawyer first, learn your options and prove your commitment. I'm not saying it'll be easy, you've got a year's lapse after all, but you won't know until you find out."

She sent him a sceptical look but Jesse just shrugged. "You can't outmanoeuvre a pro. Bottom line is that you're her birth mom. Play to your strengths."

Without another word, he gave a tight smile and slipped off the table, sweeping up his satchel and walking off. Quinn looked after his retreating back for a long moment, before returning her attention to her bag on the seat. After a moment of reluctant hesitation, she finally stood up and followed suit, pausing only to drop the book into the nearest trash bin as she headed out of the library.

/o/

The bright sunlight flashed off the bejeweled lid of the pink cell as Rachel twirled it restlessly between her fingers. Glancing down, she flipped it open and stared at the screen for a long moment, the pads of her fingers hovering over the keys, before snapping it shut again. Slumping back against the brick wall of the school, she blew some hair off her forehead with a frustrated huff and tried to listen to the sounds of the birds and traffic. This was why she hated loitering about and waiting; it gave her too much time alone with unwanted thoughts.

She knew about Burt entering into the Senatorial race from Finn, but she was still hurt that Kurt hadn't been the one to tell her first. Normally he would have been on the phone all evening with her, sharing his excitement and misgivings and trading fashion tips for candidate debates. To be honest, Rachel still felt at a bit of a loss about what to do about their rift. She didn't know how to make him see reason and things felt unbearably lonely without her best friend butting into her life every two minutes.

"You should call him."

She looked up in surprise at the familiar voice, only to see Jesse cross the parking lot in front of her as he emerged out of the school. She blinked, realising too late that she was standing less than a few feet from his car. Rachel watched as he threw his bag and some various folders into the trunk of the Porsche before pulling it shut and turning around to lean against vehicle, crossing his arms loosely as he met her gaze.

Jesse nodded an inch towards the phone she was still fiddling with in her hands. "You know you miss him."

She sighed, unable to refute the truth of his observations. "He's still cold-shouldering me over the election campaign."

"You two really are as stubborn as each other."

"Pot calling kettle," she retorted, smiling up at him reluctantly.

He flashed a quick grin in acknowledgment but seemed unwilling to drop the point. She wondered why he cared about fixing her relationship with Kurt at all.

"Maybe you need to be the one to take the initiative. Make the first move."

"But I didn't do anything wrong," she protested sulkily.

"Doesn't matter," he continued, brushing aside her objections. "Blame is all subjective anyway. Regardless of bad feelings, sooner or later you're going to have to weigh your pride against what really matters to you."

Rachel frowned as she studied him for a long moment, both all too aware of just how much misplaced loyalties could cost you, and sometimes it was a price you could regret paying. Finally dropping her eyes, she heaved a deep breath, slumping further against the wall as if momentarily crushed by the pressure on her shoulders.

"Well, pretty soon he won't be the only one not speaking to me anyway," she muttered. "The guys already think it's my fault that people are deserting the glee club like a sinking ship."

Jesse took in her dejected expression with a sharp gaze, fighting to contain the irritated anger that soured his temper. Why did she think everything was her fault all of a sudden? Since when was her fierce spirit so easily crushed and undermined? The frustration snapped at his insides like a caged animal until he had to clench his fists against the almost physical urge to shake her back to her senses, to snatch her up and take her as far away from this poisoned trap of a town as possible.

Blaming the most hard-working and talented member of their team for the recent desertions in New Directions was beyond pathetic. The girls were throwing their toys out of the pram, simple as that – all because they couldn't hack the realities of the showbiz industry. He could understand Rachel's fears of the glee club breaking up, the next few months would certainly be rocky, but he would be damned if he let her think it was somehow her doing.

"Then they're wrong," he returned firmly. "It's nothing to do with you. Let them screw up their lives with their own issues."

There was the sound of a whistle blowing from the playing fields behind the school, signalling the end of football practice, and drawing the attention of both their gazes. Jesse's eyes hardened and Rachel faltered as she cast a look back at him. The silence seemed to stretch for a taught heartbeat, both knowing one of them had to leave but somehow unwilling to take the first step, each waiting for the other.

Finally Jesse set his jaw and straightened up. "Your boyfriend's waiting," he said curtly, before striding around and pulling open the car door, turning the engine over and disappearing out of the parking lot before she could answer him. Rachel gritted her teeth. She really wished he would stop doing that – taking off with the last word before she could call him out on it. It was so infuriating.

/o/

"I got your message," he said casually, meeting her waiting gaze with a small smirk. "Feeling a little bored?"

Quinn smiled, stepping up to him with a coy flick of her golden locks. "Let's just say I'm taking advantage," she amended, reaching out to grasp a fistful of his shirt and winding it tight around her fingers.

Jesse laughed as she pulled him close, wrapping a hand over her hip before casting a curious glance around the empty stairwell.

"Little quiet isn't it?"

"You underestimate the grapevine at our school."

"On the contrary," he murmured hotly against her jaw. "I just want to make sure we use it to optimum effect."

She raised an eyebrow. "Can't perform without an audience, huh?"

Jesse grinned, backing her against the wall so quickly she sucked in a breath, a toying smile spreading across her lips in anticipation. "Cheeky bitch," he smiled in her ear. "Is that a challenge?"

"Afraid you won't measure up?" she goaded mischievously, digging her teeth into her lip as his leg slipped between hers, his hand circling her waist.

"Forgive me for keeping in mind the primarily objective of this little escapade."

"You're forgetting the secondary objective."

"Which is?" he pushed teasingly.

Quinn's hands travelled up his chest to lock into his hair, the tug of her fingers dangerously tempting. "Fun."

He drew his mouth ever so lightly over hers, pressing smile to smile. "Well, since we have a little time to kill…"

There was nothing gentle about the burning kiss he dragged her into, nothing tentative about the exploration of their hands as they plunged recklessly into each other, driven by a twisted sense of frustration that no-one else could understand. Quinn's hands slid down his shoulder blades, pulling up the hem of his shirt to dig into his skin, her chest heaving from lack of air. Jesse drew back an inch as her nails scraped and stung in raw scratches across his back, his breath hissing through his teeth even as his lips curved against her ear.

"Kitty's got claws, huh?" he drawled playfully.

Quinn smiled in response to the wry words but was soon distracted as she felt him drop his mouth down to her neck. Not to be outdone, Jesse wasted no time in leaving his own mark, biting and drawing on the soft skin until her grip became painful, bruising hard enough to make her gasp sharply. His hand was pressed flat against her stomach as she found his mouth again, fingers creeping under her top and pinning her back into the wall.

"Think we did enough damage?" she mumbled when they finally broke apart a few minutes later.

"For now," he agreed, smiling against her lips.

They were interrupted by the sudden clamour of the bell, the shrill sound echoing up and down the school and signalling that they had about twenty seconds until a stream of students flooded into the stairwell. Yet neither made any effort to disentangle themselves, indeed they almost seemed to lean closer in anticipation.

Jesse groaned quietly as his phone beeped inside his pocket, chirping insistently with an alarm that sounded like a message or reminder. He pulled back and she saw him turn away to look at it.

"Don't let me keep you."

"Errand," he replied, shoving the cell back into his pocket.

"Skipping out on school?" she teased.

"You're forgetting, I'm already a dropout. I have a certain reputation to uphold."

He grinned and caught her hand as the first wave of hurrying teenagers banged through the doors and rushed past them, smirking at the furtive looks that were cast their way and the growing current of whispers that followed. "Quinn, as ever," he brushed a theatrical kiss over her knuckles that made her laugh, "always a pleasure." Then he was gone, disappearing into the flow of bodies that moved down the steps.

Quinn smiled to herself as she fought her way against the tide and to her next class. This was proving to be even more enjoyable than she had anticipated. And the best hadn't even come yet. Rachel Berry could only ever keep her thoughts to herself for so long.

/o/

Jeez, for a school that complained endlessly about finance problems, they had an apparently bottomless budget when it came to staging shows in empty auditoriums. Jesse shook his head at the glaring contradiction of this inconsistency but then let it pass, as seemed to be the norm around here.

Further down the rows of seats he could see Mr. Schuester and Finn sitting in dumb-struck despair at the slick, stylish performance they were bearing witness to. No doubt they would respond to such an obvious threat by desperately recruiting in anyone and everyone who showed an interest in the club, and he would bet good money that the first bout of fresh blood would come in the form of that new foreign exchange student who had taken to hanging around in Finn's shadow for some godforsaken reason. Jesse sighed, slouching heavily against the back wall. He didn't particularly want to isolate any new members they might receive, especially with the precarious balance in numbers, but if he had to hear the Irish kid gushing about Finn and Rachel and the infamous 'kiss that missed' one more time, he might have to "accidently" break the junior's jaw.

Shelby was sitting at the table that he himself had sat at many times during the West Side Story auditions, familiar dark hair curling over her shoulders as she cast a critical eye over her new group. The uniforms were a nice tribute and the whole set up had his former coach's unmistakable flair on it, the routine surprisingly tight and smooth, considering what she had to work with. But then again, she always did know how to work their best assets.

"There's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm."

He noticed Santana glance up in his direction, catching his eyes with a wink. Jesse smirked. Trouble Tones indeed.

Oh, Shelby was good.

~o~


AN Okay, I was expecting this chapter to be a lot shorter than it actually turned out, because I honestly thought 'Pot O Gold' was a very hard episode to work with. But then the scenes ended up being long and many rather than short and few. Anyway, I hope it didn't come across as too... well, fractured, lol! As for Jesse and Quinn, lovely St. Berrians, I'm afraid you will just have to bear with me. You should know by now that I'm a self-confessed angst junkie! But I promise that my heart is true ;) I just love giving my characters a bloody hard time! Thank you for reading (and reviews make the flowers grow!) Next stop, 'First Time'...