A startling flash of instant cold.

"Nerd!"

Rachel Berry froze in horror, red slushie dripping from her face and staining her sweater. She could hear the jocks laughing behind her as they continued onto practice.Plebeians, she thought to herself angrily, wiping slushie from her eyes with whatever dignity remained. Talentless plebeians.

She'd been fostering the hope of getting through the day unscathed, but even though last bell had rung and she'd been on her way out the door she knew it to be a mistake. Placing her hope in her untalented peers would only lead to disappointment. Shaking her head, Rachel hurried to the bathroom to wash away the slushie. Of course they had to strike this late today - a Thursday - a day on which she had somewhere else to be. Now, however, she was going to be late. Again.

As she scrubbed her face with damp paper towel, she allowed a moment of self-pity. She'd been hoping to give Finn a pep-talk before practice, but now she was almost certainly not going to make it. She'd grown to love the New Directions meetings infinitely more since she and Finn had started dating; she could still remember a time when the idea of ever falling in love had been virtually non-existent. Where was she to find someone like her? Someone she could trust with her secrets? And then there was New Directions. More specifically, then there was Finn. A boy just as secretive and 'unconventional' as herself.

She had almost allowed herself to get carried away in her luck until she heard a voice behind her:

"Need any help?"

She spun around, startled, before she recognised who it was. "Kurt," she said, "You're not supposed to be in here!"

"Everyone's gone home." He shrugged. "And it's not like I've never been in the girl's bathroom before."

"Yes, I am perfectly aware; but if we're seen together in it'll raise suspicions. Go away." Rachel turned back to the mirror and began wiping her face with a wet paper towel. They both knew she was right: they shouldn't be talking in public. There was plenty of time later for chatting and commiseration over the ills of slushies to the face (and to marvel over a certain boyfriend of hers), but in school especially, they may as well not know each other. They couldn't know each other. All they needed was one person to put two and two together and they were done for. Rachel knew she was right. But Kurt still looked troubled.

He turned his gaze to the floor for a moment, uncertain. After a moment he seemed to come to whatever decision he seemed to have been making and said conversationally: "You know, you're not going to get that dye off with just water."

Rachel just sniffed and continued scrubbing. She would have to ignore him until he left: I wonder if I can convince Finn to take me out on a date...Is it too soon? I fully realise it's a big step to agree to be seen together. If I were to be arrested I can't expect him to put himself under suspicion as an accessory. But Mike and Tina go out on dates. In public. So do Sam and Mercedes. Hell, even Santana and Brittany hold hands at school...

"I have some moist towelettes in my bag." Kurt continued, breaking her reverie. Rachel paused in her scrubbing and gave him a calculating stare in the mirror. Why hadn't he left already? What was he up to? Kurt stared back.

"Fine," She said finally, lifting her chin and returning her gaze back to her reflection. Kurt smiled slightly to himself in amusement and moved forward. The silence returned as Kurt pulled the towelettes from his messenger bag and began wiping the dye from her face. She watched him carefully, thinking. It wasn't until he'd almost finished that she spoke to him again.

"Why are you helping me?" She said softly.

"Why Rachel," he said, startled, "it's the right thing to do!"

Rachel didn't smile, "You know what I mean."

Kurt was quiet as he threw the last towelette into the bin. When he turned back to her, his expression was the same one he used when he passed her in the hallways. Distant. "We'd better hurry," he said, "I have it on good authority there's somewhere we both need to be."

And with that he was gone.

Finn Hudson stood in the centre of the room, staring at the door.

There were no windows in the painted cement walls. Only a stark white glow from the fluorescent ceiling lamps lit the scene. It could only be expected, for a room situated so firmly underground. It would look a little like a basement, or a bunker, were it not for the odd furnishings: plush couches slumped around a coffee table; an antique wooden dining suite and a candelabra; a grandfather clock stood ticking opposite the door; a glass cabinet filled with wooden collectables. Beside the door hung a large mirror. It almost appeared as though someone had transplanted an old woman's furniture into the middle of a government storage facility.

Above the door a loudspeaker crackled to life: "Get ready Finn. You know what to do. Once the door opens, your objective is to get the flag and get out the door in one piece. And remember, this is every man for himself."

Finn nodded, as though shaking off a fly. He bounced a little on the balls of his feet. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He was born ready. He looked up at the sound of hinged creaking.

The door opened.

The door closed.

Finn smiled. He didn't need to see her to know she was there. "Hey, Tina."

"Hey yourself." He could pinpoint her voice, somewhere beside the coffee table. Yet, of course, she was nowhere to be seen. He slowly began to move forward towards the sound, eyes straining for some hint of movement. He needed to find the flag, but he knew he couldn't do it with Tina snooping around invisible. Last time, she'd snatched the damn thing right from his hands and slipped past everyone straight to the door. If he wanted to win, he was going to have to take her down.

Suddenly, he was flying forward, as though pushed from behind. He stumbled and wheeled around to face what appeared to be thin air.

"Looking for me?"

He spun around again, to see a fully visible Tina Cohen-Chang sitting on the furthest of the couches, grinning in amusement, with no hint of how she'd gotten there.

"Will you stop moving around so much?" Finn said exasperatedly.

"Every man for himself." Tina replied, and with a grin, she melted once again into thin air. She was like that cat from Alice in Wonderland, Finn thought.

"Focus, Finn." crackled the loudspeaker.

"I know!" Finn said, frustrated, "But it's hard to focus on something you can't see!"

"I know the problem Finn. Find a solution."

Finn sighed in frustration. He hated finding solutions. It was one of those things he'd never been particularly good at. Logic. Solutions. It was why he was so terrible at math.

"Okay, focus," He muttered under his breath, eyes darting around the room. If only there where a way he could make Tina a little more visible...oh.

The members of New Directions sat around the observation room, watching Finn through the two-way mirror like a movie. Tina had just gone in, and, as usual, Finn was failing fast.

"As much as I love watching Finn bumbling his way around the arena every practice," Santana said, "can we please get on with this? Trouty Mouth and I have a bet going as to whether I'm going to get the flag this time, and I'm keen to prove his ass wrong."

"I'm keen to prove his ass wrong" Sam mimicked, his face turning into what was quite literally a perfect replication of the cheerleader's (ponytail and all). "You wish Santana," he scoffed, face returning to normal as he turned back to Mercedes.

"We have a roster, guys," said Mr. Schue from his desk in front of the mirror. "Finn versus Tina, then Rachel's up next against Kurt. Santana and Sam next. End of story."

"Rachel's not here." said Santana. "I am not waiting around for that hobbit to get her ass in gear, or Kurt for that matter."

"We got visual on Kurt," Artie chimed in, looking up from his computer, "he's coming down the stairs."

Right on cue, the door beeped and slid open, to reveal a fashionably late and slightly disgruntled looking Kurt Hummel. "Sorry I'm late," he said tiredly, "Rachel got slushied, she's right behind me."

He flopped down onto the couch next to Mercedes. "About time," she joked, before turning back to talk to Sam. Kurt could remember a time long gone when his appearance by her side would have granted him more than two words, but that was before hormones and high school and Oh my gosh Kurt, Sam just asked me out! I can't believe it, Kurt, what do I wear?

In fact, he thought dully, it seemed like that with all of them really.

"He seriously cannot be that stupid." Said Quinn disbelievingly, drawing their attention back to the mirror. "He knows she's not there, right?"

Finn was slowly approaching the couch where he'd last seen Tina. She had long since, disappeared, of course, and was surely waiting right behind him.

"Sorry, sorry!" Rachel burst into the room, dropping her bag by the door and hurrying across the room, "I haven't missed my slot, have I?"

Santana opened her mouth to make some catty response when Finn spun around from the couch and –

WHAM!

There was a ripping noise. Suddenly, feathers filled the air around him, clinging to every surface. Every surface.

Mike and Sam whooped as Tina shrieked, but it was too late. Finn dropped the couch cushion he'd been holding, the one he'd ripped in half like it were no more than tissue paper.

"Ha! Not so invisible now, are we?" He was backing away from the couches, waiting for the debris to settle. He could distinctly see now, the small, downy white feathers bobbing around of their own accord in the air. They were stuck to Tina's head, making her very clearly visible.

"Dammit, Finn!" she yelled.

Even Santana looked impressed.

It wasn't until the end of practice that Rachel brought it up.

Kurt had been hoping she'd forget; in all of the excitement of their meetings people tended not to notice when you were feeling miserable. Today alone Mike had stretched himself like rope and tied Mercedes' arms together. She in turn had glared so much she accidentally shot lasers from her eyes and destroyed the china cabinet.

Kurt knew the general perception of Rachel in school: A girl too obsessed with herself and her talent to ever make any friends, but he knew it wasn't true. As self-absorbed as Rachel could be, he knew better than to expect her not to notice his behaviour lately. That whole slushie incident earlier had been a bad idea and he cursed himself for being so transparent.

"Hey Kurt," she said as he picked up his messenger bag. "Leaving so soon?"

She looked so pitying, standing there. And apologetic. Ugh, the last thing he needed was anyone's apologies. It wasn't their fault they all got to live their Happily Ever Afters. Meanwhile, he was destined to be alone for the rest of his life.

Oh, dear. That sounded bitter.

"Dad's got some political gala in Westerville tomorrow night and his dragging us all with him." He sniffed instead, shouldering his bag and walking to the door. "I need to find him, Finn and I complete tux's. And I need to convince them both to wear 'em."

"Sounds fun," She said, trying to sound cheerful. Oh lord, was she going to follow him all the way home? He turned around.

"Look, Rach. I have to go. Finn's waiting for me, and we can't exactly walk out together. No hanging out in public, remember?" He'd hoped that didn't sound to scornful, but Rachel bit her lip and looked away.

"Look, Kurt," She said, her voice soft, "I get it, okay? I get why you'd be upset. I'd be upset too: Everyone's hooking up and you feel like a third wheel. But it's not forever, Kurt. You'll find someone, too –"

Kurt scoffed, "Yeah, Rachel. I'm sure there are plenty of guys who want to date a violent gay monster like me. I hear setting yourself on fire is a very attractive quality nowadays."

Rachel looked positively heartbroken. He gave her a pleading look, "I'm sorry, okay? I don't mean to make you feel bad, but we both know it's true."

"You just seem so miserable all the time, Kurt." She said, "and I know I get side-tracked easily but I should be spending more time with you than obsessing over Finn. In fact, when was the last time we had an actual conversation? You know, I honestly can't remember! How come you haven't started hating me yet? I'm being a terrible friend and I'm really very sorry-"

She was rambling. "It's fine, Rachel!' he hissed, placing his hands on her shoulders and shaking her. "Really."

He turned to walk away, and tried to convince himself that everything she'd said wasn't one hundred percent true.

It was getting late and almost everybody had left when Artie first saw it.

"Mr. Schue?" He called over his shoulder, face falling into a slight frown, "I think you should take a look at this."

Mr. Schuester turned from where he was talking to Brittany, who had casually started reciting the entire Periodic Table (he'd made the mistake of referencing Dmitri Mendeleev in passing). "What is it?" he asked, looking over Artie's shoulder.

"One of the opponents running against Mr. Hummel for Congress." He replied, hitting play.

The video onscreen began to play. The man on the screen was handsome, his dark hair, smattered with silver, and bright blue eyes. He had a sombre demeanour, his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he stared straight into the camera.

"This year alone, over three hundred mutants were discovered and arrested living in Ohio." He began, "posing threats to the lives of our children, our neighbours and our elderly. Three hundred this year alone."

"My grandma was arrested for being a mutant," said Brittany suddenly, "but she wasn't really. Her false teeth only looked pointy."

Artie and Mr. Schuester shushed her.

"Where is our government?" the video continued, "Where is our current representative Burt Hummel? Why are they not doing enough to protect our children?

"I'm Brom Anderson, and I'm here to say: It's time for change."