Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.
The members of New Directions sat in the music room, it was a brand new year and the sun was high to quote Dr. Horrible, and they were waiting patiently for Mr. Schuester.
"Do you think we should send out a search party?" Rachel Berry asked, antsier than ever.
"Why would we have to do that?" Her boyfriend, Finn Hudson, asked, looking over at the door.
"Simple," Rachel said. "Mr. Schue is never late and he wouldn't be late unless he had a good reason."
Everyone looked her, knowing the diva's tendency toward over-exaggeration.
"Which means that he was probably ambushed by Coach Sylvester, and she's locked in some dark room because she is so insecure…"
"Or," Noah Puckerman, better known as Puck, interrupted, "he's busy making out with Miss Pillsbury."
Rachel drew a deep breath, turning her attention to Puck.
"Noah, just because you think with your," she paused for a moment, looking for the right word, "…Robin Goodfellow doesn't mean every other man does."
Puck raised an eyebrow at that comment. He'd never heard it called that and he had heard a lot of nicknames for it.
He was just about to voice that observation when the door of the music room opened and Mr. Schue walked in, flanked by Jack Harmon and Quinn Fabray, the former carrying a guitar case slung over his shoulder.
"I am so sorry that I'm late, guys," Mr. Schue apologized, handing off the sheet music to Brad, the ubiquitous and silent pianist. "Okay. I've taken into consideration that Mr. Figgins angry with us. So, I think that we'll have to be on our toes when it comes to making him mad as a group."
"Meaning?" Rachel asked.
"Meaning that we can't have the disasters that we had last year," the teacher answered. "That's why I've been talking with Jack and Quinn about the things we should avoid."
"But, Mr. Schue," Rachel whined, "you should discuss these things with Finn and I. We're the team captains, we should actually be involved in any decisions that affect Glee."
"However, you and Finn do not have the track records of these two," Mr. Schue explained.
"I don't understand," Rachel said, sitting down and grabbing Finn's hand.
"He means that neither one of you got knocked up or tried to bring down the entire gymnasium because you hate the Cheerios," Kurt Hummel whispered to Rachel of the corner of his mouth.
"Valid point," Rachel said. "Go on, Mr. Schue."
"Actually," he said, "I was going to turn the floor over to these guys."
Jack stepped in front of the group, a smug look on his face.
"As Mr. Hair was saying," Jack began, "we've been discussing ways to keep us out of the crosshairs of Figgins. Rachel told me about your issues with Le Freak. While I don't disagree with the fact that you'd all rather gargle on razor blades than perform that song, you went about the wrong way."
The original members of the group groaned. He wouldn't let this one day, would he?
"I mean, Push It? Were you all very, very stoned when you came with that? Not only did you ruin any chance for us to have anything seem remotely sexual, you cut our song list in half."
Jack seemed ready to chew out the group when Quinn interfered.
"That being said," she began, "Jack and I have come up a song that can help us avoid that kind of a disaster again."
"Well, avoid a disaster that blanket offends everyone," Jack said. "Because if everyone's offended, who gets to laugh."
"Can you two just get this over with?" Mercedes asked. "We'd actually like some time to rehearse."
"Yes, Buick," Jack replied causally, "we're getting there."
He turned to Quinn.
"Come, Pregnoid," he said to Quinn. "We need to show these guys what not to do with the second chance we've been given."
Jack retrieved an acoustic guitar from the case. He tuned it, giving Brad the signal to play the music. He strummed on a few chords before turning to Quinn.
"Hello, Quinn," Jack said in his deepest Johnny Cash voice.
'Now he remembers my names," Quinn thought, trying her best to smile at the prankster.
"Hello, Mr. Harmon." She said.
"Are you ready to sing one?" he asked.
"I'm always ready."
"Alright," Jack strummed his guitar before singing, "In my dreams you're blowing me…" he paused, "…some kisses."
He craned his head to kiss the tiny blond on the cheek. She did not seem as scared as the other girls would have been in the same situation.
"That's one of my favorite things to do," Quinn added, trying not to laugh.
"You and I could go down…" Jack deadpanned, the students groaning at the pun "…in history."
Quinn sang, with equal an equal deadpan. "That's what I'm praying to do with you."
"Let's duet…" Jack and Quinn sang, "…in ways that make us feel good." Quinn folded her hands, as if praying. "Let's duet," Jack popped up behind her, "and make that sacred sound, put two and two together, perfect harmony we found," the duo split, returning to their song. "We know it's only natural, lets duet!
Mr. Schue tried not to laugh, this was supposed to be a lesson to the others about what they could not do anymore, but it was still funny.
"I'm going to beat off…" Jack paused again to play a few chords, "…all my demons.
Puck snorted at that one and so did Artie.
"Nice save," the paraplegic performer admitted.
"Guys," Mr. Schue said. "Pay attention."
"That's what loving Jesus' all about," Quinn harmonized.
Jack looked back at Quinn. "Looking in your eyes, I start believing."
She winked at him. "Let's bring this whisper to shout."
Puck did start to pay attention, his girlfriend was definitely enjoying herself with Rachel Berry with testosterone. Maybe a little too much.
"Let's duet…" they declared, "…in ways that make us feel good. Let's duet, and make that sacred sound," Jack and Quinn trilled. "Put two and two together, perfect harmony we found. We know it's only natural. Let's duet."
"Did I hear you sighing?"Jack moved around the piano.
"What are you implying?" Quinn added, dancing around her friend.
"Look a little tired," Jack stated.
"Music's got me wired," she sang.
"Pretty good looking," he voiced, spinning her into his arms.
"Boy, we're really cooking," she countered before singing with him. "Now!"
They held that final note, letting Jack and Brad have their fun with their guitar and piano respectively.
"I just want to make out…" Jack let go of Quinn, "…what you're saying.
"Read my lips," she sang, her lips moving closer to his, "it's what you're looking for."
"Here I am a sneaking up…" Jack sang, wrapping his arms around Quinn again, "…behind ya."
Their hips mirrored the movement that Finn and Rachel had used the year before at the disastrous debut for New Directions.
"You can always come in my backdoor," Quinn put emphasis on the word "come."
"Let's duet…" they sang again, "…in ways that make us feel good. Lets duet, and make that sacred sound. Put two and two together, perfect harmony we found," Jack and Quinn moved around the piano. "We know it's only natural," they slipped back into the beginning of the refrain, "of course it's only natural," they repeated the process, "God knows it's only natural. Lets duet!"
"And this," Jack stated, his hands showing the contact between him and Quinn, "along with other crap is what we should avoid if we want Figgins off our asses this year."
Quinn nodded, letting go of Jack.
"Along with putting Santana, Puck, and Jack's mouths through a carwash," she stated.
The two went back the first available seats, Quinn by Puck, who wrapped his arm around in a way that was both protective and possessive.
"We all that know that carwash idea is never going to happen," Jack said. "Considering that if we take profanity away from Mohawk Jew and Shore Leave they wouldn't have a vocabulary at all."
"Now that I think about it, that wouldn't be such a bad thing."
Quinn turned to Jack.
"You are not drugging them and running their mouths through a carwash," she said, slapping him playfully.
Jack laughed that rare laugh of genuine happiness. Puck watched the scene and realized that Quinn was getting a little too close to this guy. This was something he had to fix or he would lose the girl. And Noah Puckerman never lost.
A/N: And here is another one-shot involving Mr. Harmon. I hope you guys are enjoying this little series. I know I am.