A/N: I can do nothing but apologise for how stupidly long it's taken to write this chapter and upload it. I completely lost my way this story but I hope it's starting to come back to me in one way or another. This basically ties together a few loose ends and hopefully you kind people haven't been put off by my extremely long delay in updating. Also, warning for one word's worth of bad language towards the end. (In the words of Cory Monteith: someone said the 's-h- word'. If you haven't seen that video, WATCH IT.) Anyway, I hope to goodness that this is okay and readable, I, again, apologise profusely for the lack of chapters and more importantly, I hope you enjoy :)

-StB-

"Too much for you, was I?" Jesse's voice is low as he appears from nowhere and starts walking behind her. Rachel blushes but doesn't look round – she doesn't want him to see her looking so flushed. "I mean, why else would you leave so suddenly?"

"I have a lot going on this week and I'm sure you're as aware as I am of the necessity of a good night's sleep." She's quick to retort because she knew this conversation was coming.

"And how did you sleep?" He's making any excuse just to get her to talk to him, mainly because he likes how flustered he makes her, but also just because he likes her. Really likes her. And sometimes, he just wants them to talk until the sun sets because there is never enough time and life is too short.

"Fine, thank you Jesse. I slept perfectly well in fact."

"Thanks to my vigorous workout, no doubt." Jesse must be the most self-assured man to live, Rachel decides. He manages to creep up alongside her and waggles his eyebrows in what he hopes is a seductively suggestive manner. It's no lie Jesse practices many (show) faces in front of his mirror but seductive is not usually one of them. But it seems to do the trick because Rachel quickly stares at the path ahead (anywhere but at him.) "It's nothing to be embarrassed about Rach; we're two young, healthy, beautiful people. It's practically an inevitability."

"Jesse, I've got places to be, so if you'll excuse me," She tries to speed up but Jesse's one step ahead and manages to block her path.

"Like glee club rehearsals?" He smirks at her reaction to his knowledge but it only infuriates her further.

"Stalk me, much?"

"Blair Waldorf now, are we? Role play, eh Rach? Didn't think you had it in you." He's so smug and self righteous Rachel honestly doesn't know what she sees in him but there's something about him that keeps her running back.

"What do you want, Jesse?" She stop walking altogether and Jesse sidles directly in front of her, letting his hands snake round her waist and meet at the small of her back. She quickly rips his hands apart and takes a step away from him, looking over both shoulders to ensure no one's seen them. "Jesse, not here!" She whispers, brows meeting in the middle of her face in half-hearted frustration.

He ignores her protests but makes no further attempt to touch her. "I was merely going to offer you a lift to rehearsals tonight but if this is your attitude, I think I'll be withdrawing it."

"You can't withdraw an offer you haven't actually offered yet," she counteracts, pouting just slightly as she answers because technically, she's right. "But I wouldn't take it anyway," she adds loftily, beginning to walk home again, making her way around Jesse who merely raises an eyebrow before following her again.

"Of course you wouldn't."

"Then why would you offer?"

"Because I'm gentleman," he tells her simply but she scoffs and quickens her pace. But of course, Jesse matches it firmly and she's not about to shake him.

"Right, because all gentlemen deposit edible substance on young girls heads." It's a bit of a low blow because against her better judgement, Rachel's forgiven (but not quite forgotten) Jesse for that fateful day, but it's always there for ammunition should she need to employ it. It shakes him for a minute or two but he's quickly back into his stride until they reach her front door and makes it clear he's not invited in.

"I'll see you tonight then," he shouts through her letterbox, a sense of smug satisfaction reaping through his every pore because only he can rile Rachel enough to render her silent.

"Jesse, you never said – why weren't you at rehearsals the other night?" She has one last ditch attempt to regain some dignity and influence over this conversation but Jesse's never one to bow down. He doesn't even look back as she comes back outside to stand on her doorstep.

"I'll see you tonight," he shouts back, refusing to give anything else away. He watches her involuntarily stamp her foot in frustration as he walks away, a soft smirk delicately draping over the bottom half of his face.

-StB-

"Hey," Jesse hears a breathless voice approach him as he waits for Rachel in the car park. Rehearsals are over and the cast have finally used up all rehearsal time available. The local press are printing the photos of Rachel and Jimmy as Lola and Ricardo and come Monday, the performances start. "We're going out for a pre-performance dinner, one last night of alcohol-fuelled fun before two weeks of soberness. You two coming?" Cara, the other girl with her own dressing room, hovers on the spot waiting for Jesse and Rachel to catch her up.

"Sure," Jesse answers for the both of them, not even giving Rachel a moment to protest. "Where were you thinking?"

"Lazelli's, on the corner?" She glances back to the car, where Jimmy sits flashing his lights at her to hurry up. She rolls her eyes as she turns back to Rachel and Jesse and promptly grins. She's not the type to hurry for anyone.

"I know it. We'll meet you there, say 9?"

"Half past," Cara replies with a wink, "They only serve minors after nine."

Jesse grins – she's a woman after his own heart – and agrees to meet at half nine. Rachel's positively fuming behind him but Jesse does a grand job of ignoring it, at least until Cara's out of the way.

"And what would possess you to make arrangements for me?" Rachel demands, hands on hips and eyes wide and glaring. "For all you know, I might have immovable plans for this evening"

"You don't have plans," he smirks knowingly, heading towards his car. "Need a ride?"

When he doesn't hear an answer, he turns and sees Rachel stood in the middle of the car park, arms folded and bag on the floor.

"How do you know I don't have plans? Just because you chose furthering your selfish, egoistical career over me doesn't mean all other boys do too, Jesse. I might have a date."

"You do," Jesse walks towards her, picks up her bags and chucks them in his car, holding the passenger door open for when (not if) she decides to climb in. "With me and the rest of the cast."

"How do you know I don't have a date with Noah? O-or Mike?"

"Because I know you," he replies simply, checking his watch in an effort to try and make her get in the car. "You wouldn't be able to help but broadcast such an event to us all at regular intervals and since you haven't, I believe I'm right to assume you're free to spend the evening with me."

Finally she stalks towards the car, manoeuvring herself around his smug self to climb into the car. "Just to clarify, I'm not spending the evening with you, St. James. I'm spending it with the cast who, with the exception of you, are perfectly acceptable people."

He waits until he's buckled up and pulling out the car park to retort, a grin emerging before he's even uttered the words because he knows it's going to rile her to the heavens.

"That's not what you said the other night, Rachel." He quickly locks the doors forcing her to remain in his company and he emits the shortest of laughs at the pure face of poison she's painted over her features.

-StB-

She turns up, a little late, but Jesse stands up and pulls out her chair for her. She huffs, instructs him to sit down and stop making a scene (only she's allowed to do that but not somewhere like this.) The rest of the cast – minus Esmeralda – are here and Rachel promptly orders, easing herself into the conversations being batted around the table. That is until one becomes a little too close to home.

"So why did you two break up?" Cara asks, biting a breadstick in half.

"What two?" A blonde boy asks, and Cara flicks a few crumbs in his direction.

"Jesse and Rachel, idiot."

"Oh," the boy – Alfie – giggles (he's a little tipsy) and turns to Rachel and Jesse. "So why was it? Was he shit in bed?"

"It was artistic differences," Rachel quickly ushers her answer in before Jesse can even steal a glance in her direction, ignoring Alfie's lewd comments as she goes. Cara scoffs at Alfie with a smile and Rachel raises a quiet, understated eyebrow.

"Only you two would break up over something so regal and dramatic," Cara laughs and Rachel forces herself to smile along. "Then again, there's only room for one drama queen in a relationship and we've all seen Jesse's more than a rival for that role."

Jesse forgets to laugh because he's so centred on the way Rachel's just saved his bacon (theoretically speaking of course, he hasn't forgotten her vegan lifestyle.)

"That and his shameful obsession with Chicago. It'd never last," Rachel adds, trying to take the focus off of Jesse, who seems to have been rendered incapable of speech.

"Think himself as a bit of a Billy Flynn, does he?"

"More of a Velma Kelly," Rachel bats back, a genuine grin blossoming below her nose. Cara ripples off into girlish laughter and Jesse finally manages to regain some sort of consciousness, emitting a strained chuckle before hastily sipping at his drink. "What about your Jimmy?" Rachel, of course, has noticed the way Jimmy drapes his arm around Cara's shoulders. "Think of himself as the school stud, or something?"

"First off, he's not my Jimmy."

"Well he's certainly under the impression you're his Cara." Rachel's eyes flicker over to Jimmy who's watching the two girls converse with an air of unease.

"Well, more fool him," Cara smirks back and Rachel finds herself smiling because Jimmy doesn't quite know what he's let himself in for. He didn't get anywhere with Rachel, so he's moved down the ranks but it seems Cara's more than a match for him. The girls ripple off into girlish giggles opposite each other and Jesse, still preoccupied from Rachel's conversation earlier, smiles along oblivious, willing this meal to end so he can get Rachel on her own.

"Well, it's been great and I want to thank you all for coming. And if it wasn't for the fact we've all got two weeks of performances to get through, we could totally have killed La Vie Boheme right now." Cara gets a chorus of cheers and the waiters glance at the table nervously. It's just not that kind of restaurant. She raises her (empty) glass and toasts them all as they begin to disperse one by one, until only Jesse and Rachel are left at the table, sat beside each other in silence.

"You didn't have to do that earlier, Rachel."

"Do what?" Rachel feigns innocence because she doesn't really want to have this conversation.

"I would have told them what I did – well, what I wish I hadn't done." He's stumbling a little over his words and he really can't blame the alcohol.

"And what would that have achieved, Jesse? Nothing," she presses her lips together in a sad sort of smile and lets her eye line drift up to his forlorn ones, taking in the colour of his eyes. "It's fine, honestly. I've moved on Jesse; let's just forget it ever happened."

But he can't forget; he can't forget any encounter he's ever had with her. He replays them in his mind over and over, willing himself to go back, to do it differently because contrary to popular belief, he actually really liked her. (He still does.)

"Do you want to forget everything?" He needs to ask, because it's been twice now and he still doesn't know where he stands.

"Jesse – " She starts but he stops her just as quickly.

"I need to know Rachel, I just – " he breathes out because, yet again, words are failing him profusely.

"I don't know who I am when I'm with you, Jesse." And the way she admits it shows just how lost she's become. "I don't know what to remember or what to forget. I don't know how to be around you anymore." She sighs and she's praying so hard that she doesn't cry. "I'm turning into the girl I never wanted to be."

"You're just a girl in love with a guy, Rachel." And the way he speaks, so simple and plain, is a far cry away from his usual witty embellishments and it almost makes Rachel believe it to be true.

"How can you possibly know that, Jesse?" She's lost the will to find the answer because the question's been plaguing her for months.

"Because I'm just a guy in love with a girl."

She doesn't question him, she doesn't mock him or tell him he's wrong; she just sits there and looks at him, relishing the feeling of his warm hand resting gently on her knee. They stay seated for a little while longer, mostly in silence because neither one can think of anything to say to follow such a declaration of love.

But it's not painful or awkward – it's necessary and comforting and then when they leave a good half an hour later, he drives her home and walks her to her door and she hugs him gently before entering her house. Because she can't ignore that he told her he loves her and she can't ignore the fact that there are bits of her that love him too. But love, for what it's worth, messes with her head and right now, her only focus is on the next two weeks of performances (because when she's a star on Broadway and she's being interviewed about her early performances, she doesn't want to be haunted by shameful slip ups. It's just not they way to go.)

And on Monday night, when the cast are all in Jesse's dressing room (they would be, he hogs the limelight) and they're psyching each other on, she catches a glance from Jesse and his big, boyish grin brings a spark to her stomach.

"Let's do this!" Cara grins, punching her fist in the air as everyone mimics her actions.

"You ready?" Jesse asks, trying to ask a million questions all at once. Are you ready for the biggest buzz of your life? Are you ready to do that scene with Jimmy? Are you ready to fall in love with performing more than you thought possible? Are you ready to make me proud?

"As I'll ever be," Rachel grins back, a bad bout of butterflies erupting deep within and making her elicit a childish chuckle. And she would be completely ready if the whole of New Directions weren't sat in the middle of the audience, ready to analyse everything she (and Jesse) does. She just doesn't know they're there yet and when the curtain rises and she and Jesse begin their first scene, their faces fall in perfect timing as a gaudy Finn waves from the seats.

It was about to be a long, memorable performance (for all the wrong reasons.)