AN: Warning- long one. Note: In America, "jumper" refers to a pinafore dress, not a sweater. Most denim jumpers tend to be rather unflattering to women, making them look simultaneously flat-chested and thick-waisted. Though the trend is finally dying out, middle-aged American primary school teachers used to wear them a lot. My mom still does. *Shudder.* Now, let's sort out the drama with Rachel Berry's mama.

Tap-tap-tap. Someone was tapping on my door, leaving smudges on the glass. I looked up to see Tina Cohen-Chang, looking distraught. I had a soft spot for Tina. On one level, she was so shy, yet her appearance was so bold. Today, instead of her usual goth or punk clothes, she was in a puffy babydoll dress, harajuku-Lolita style. I opened the door.

"How can I help you, Tina?"

"Ms. P., you have to come to the choir room!"

"Oh, well, gosh…the choir room?" That was the last place I wanted to go.

"Ms. Pilsbury, Rachel and Jesse broke up, so Rachel called his old coach from Vocal Adrenaline, and now she's here, only it turns out she's Rachel's mother, only Rachel didn't know that, and Mr. Shue tried to send everyone home, only Rachel wouldn't let them go, because she said she doesn't want to shirk her duties as Glee club president, and she just wants to deal with the Jesse issue, and no one knows what to do."

Tina was out of breath from delivering that information, and I'd felt my eyes widen at each revelation. The woman Will fooled around with was Rachel's biological mother? That's just...messy.

Looking into Tina's bewildered face, I knew that I needed to go to the choir room—Not for Will, but for Rachel. She was apparently in denial. I quickly looked up her contact information on my computer and tried to call her fathers, but no one answered.

"Okay," I said with a sigh, "Let's go."

When we reached the choir room, the students were perched awkwardly on the edges of their seats. A woman who looked remarkably like Rachel sat on the piano bench. Will was pacing, and trying to convince Rachel that they should cancel practice for the day. None of the students looked eager to leave: half of them looked concerned for their classmate, and half looked unabashedly curious.

"Look," Rachel said, "This biology issue is irrelevant! Ms. Corcoran, I appreciate your role in my creation. Apparently, I received my lovely hair from you, and perhaps your genetics played a role in my musical abilities, but that's really not relevant to the issue at hand."

"Berry," Noah Puckerman said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "You can pretend you don't care about this mom stuff, but you and I both know that…"

"Noah," she snapped, "Don't. Please, I can't." Her voice broke, and she began to whisper. "I just can't do this. I can't. Please, just…please?"

I cleared my throat, and fifteen sets of eyes turned to me at the door. "Will, could I speak to you for a moment?"

"Emma, er, Ms. Pilsbury, it's not the best time."

Why did he think I was here? I just raised an eyebrow incredulously, and we went into the hall.

"Emma, I know it must be strange for you, having Shelby here, but it's more complicated than that."

"I know," I said. "Tina told me what's going on, so I'm here to help Rachel."

Will sighed with relief. He thought I'd come to make a scene. Well, after my Sue-induced rant in the teacher's lounge, I couldn't entirely blame him. The problem with teaching is you spend so much time with kids that you start to act like them. It's why some elementary school teachers end up wearing seasonal sweaters and denim jumpers. In high school teachers, it results in cliques, gossip, and excessive emotional displays.

"Em, I seriously don't know what to do. The kids won't leave, but we can't really ignore this, right?"

"Why don't we humor Rachel, to put her at ease? Then we can send the other kids home and deal with the real issue?"

He nodded in agreement, and we went back into the choir room. Will gestured to his stool so I could sit down. I did so and cleared my throat again.

"Rachel, as I understand it, you would prefer to focus on glee club issues: is that right?"

"Yes, Ms. Pilsbury. With regional's coming up, we need to start finalizing our set list and choreography. As such, if Jesse is going to return to Vocal Adrenaline, he needs to do so as soon as possible."

I turned to Shelby. "Ms…"

"Corcoran."

"Ms. Corcoran, would it be possible for Jesse to return to Vocal Adrenaline?"

"Technically, if he either moved back to the district or filed open enrollment papers, yes. However, I have some concerns about his return. How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"Why would it be a trick?" Rachel asked, looking wounded. "Jesse moved here for me. He gave up his home, his popularity, and his starring role in a national champion show choir. I wrecked things between us, and I can't undo it. I just thought maybe I could help Jesse get back those things he sacrificed for me. I already explained it! Why…"

"Because she thinks you're like her," Jesse said, softly. "Because it's what she would do."

"I tol…OUCH!" Quinn had pinched Finn mid-word and was now furiously whispering in his ear. He looked more sheepish than usual.

Rachel's normally erect posture slumped. "Jesse, what do you mean?"

"When I first saw you at sectionals? I was there because Mr. C sent me. She sent members of Vocal Adrenaline to every sectionals competition in our region. We were supposed to evaluate the competition." Rachel's eyes shone with tears. I knew the other members of New Directions had warned her that Jesse was using her, and she had proclaimed that he actually wanted her. Now, it seemed that she'd been wrong. I wondered whether Rachel's ego could handle the blow. (Sometimes the biggest egos are the most fragile.)

"When I saw you in the music store, it was just a coincidence. I asked you out because I liked you," Jesse said, trying to convince Rachel of his sincerity. "But when Shelby saw us together in the auditorium, she encouraged me to use our relationship to find out more about New Directions: your strengths and weaknesses. Maybe your set list. I agreed because 'love is love, and business is business.' That's what I thought then, but I know now that's not true."

Rachel's face was a mask put in place to hide her hurt at Jesse's words.

He continued: "You want to know what I told Shelby? That you don't even have a set list, and you probably won't until the week of Regionals. That it wouldn't matter if she did have your set list, since you could just throw together a new one like you did at Sectionals. Your choir's strength is its weakness. Every other choir in the state picks out their set and rehearses it until they could perform it in their sleep. You guys just go wherever your emotions take you: new songs and choreography every week. You cook up all of this love and hate and drama in your personal lives, and you use it like fuel."

"Rachel," Shelby began, cautiously, "I didn't tell Jesse to transfer to McKinley. In fact, I was pissed!"

I saw a glimmer of life in Rachel's eyes at the woman's genuine tone of annoyance.

"But Jesse," Shelby continued, in a professional tone, "if you want to come back, you can. I can't promise you the lead: you'll have to audition on a song-by-song basis, to be fair to the others who picked up the slack in your absence."

"Stay," Brittany exclaimed, "Your voice is pretty!"

"Britt," Santana replied with a chastising tone.

"Brittany's right," Will said. "You're talented, and we love having you. If you'd like to stay, you're welcome to, right guys?" The students nodded or murmured their assent (though with varying levels of enthusiasm.) "We appreciate your honesty. And you're right: sometimes we let our personal drama get in our own way." His eyes tried to catch mine. "But we put our hearts into everything we do, and that's what makes us great."

I saw doubt flicker across Jesse's face. It was the only time I'd seen the boy look less than completely confident. That flash of humanity made me like him more. "Can I think about it?" he asked.

"Of course," Will replied.

"But not too long," Shelby added. "I would have to know in time to order the customized costumes and adjust blocking."

"Well, it sounds like that's as settled as it's going to get for now," I said. "Jesse can return to Vocal Adrenaline or stay in New Directions. Either choir would be glad to have him. So why don't we dismiss practice. And Rachel, we can have a talk."

"But…" her eyes widened, and the poor girl looked terrified. "But it's so close to regionals. We can't just blow off practice!"

"How about this," Will said, "Everyone, do you promise to go home and practice your parts?" Everyone nodded. As the students filed out of the room, Kurt and Mercedes looked like missing out on whatever was coming next was physically painful. Jesse surprised Rachel by kissing her cheek.

"You know Vocal Adrenaline will be harder to beat if I go back," he said. "I don't know if I would be so generous in your position."

"Of course you would," she replied. "You gave up everything for me, remember? You're a better person than you seem to think."

Rachel's words shocked me. I'd never seen this side of her before. I'd heard a bit about it. During a session with Finn after the Babygate scandal broke, he'd said that besides his mom and Will— Rachel was the only one who believed there was more to Finn than football and popularity. Recently, I had called Quinn to my office to talk, and she'd cried about how the girl she'd been so cruel to took her in and treated her lovingly.

After a night janitor discovered the fight club operating in the parking lot, I'd asked Puck about his role in it. He'd said, "I know it's dumb, Ms. P., but I gotta do something. Since I knocked Quinn up, I've been trying to give up cougars and banging random cheerios, but it's hard. It makes me want to mess somebody up. With fight club, at least it's kids who want to get hit. I mean, I could go back to throwing slushies, running geeks up flagpoles or throwing them in dumpsters. But then I hear Berry's voice in my head: 'You're a better man than that, Noah.' It's annoying, but I kinda want it to be true, you know?"

"I'm not going unless you want me to," Quinn told Rachel.

"I don't care if you do want me to, I'm not going," Puck added. "This witch abandoned you, then tried to get your boyfriend to spy on you, and now she wants to pretend everything's awesome because you both like Streisand? Hell, no!"

"Noah, stop projecting. She didn't abandon me. She merely…fulfilled her role in the contract."

"You're not a contract, Rachel, you're her kid! You can't just have a kid and walk away!"

Quinn's chin started to tremble.

"You can," Shelby piped up. "You can if it's better for the kid than having you around. Maybe you're too young, or too messed up to be good for anyone, let alone a baby." Subconsciously, her hand rested on her belly. "You try not to love it: it's stretched your body out of shape, made you puke your guts out or pee every five minutes, and it almost tore you in two during labor. But you end up loving her anyway, because she's a part of you. She was there when you felt alone. Then you hand her off to these people who you just know will love her more than anyone has ever loved anything. More than anyone has ever loved you. So you walk away, because she's better off."

When Shelby switched from "it" to "her," Rachel dropped her stoic mask and cried. Quinn was crying, too, though probably for different reasons.

"They do, you know." Rachel said softly. "They love me more than anyone has ever loved anything."

"Yeah?" Shelby asked with a big smile as one tear fell.

"Yes. But if I'm being honest? I missed having a mom. I wondered why you didn't want to be in my life. Where were you when I needed you?"

"Look, I was young and broke, dreaming of making it big on Broadway, when I saw your dads' add in Back Stage. I thought, 'Make some money, help some nice guys have a kid. Why not?' I didn't sign on for motherhood. I couldn't stay here! I was moving to New York as soon as I lost the baby weight. That was the plan. I tried, but I never made it big. Eventually, I gave up and came home to Ohio. I didn't want to confuse things, or make it harder for you and your dads, though, so I stayed away. Besides, I'm a perfectionist—hypercritical. What could I give you advice on, boys? My love life's a disaster. Trust me, your daddy's a better mom than I ever would have been."

Will had blushed when Shelby characterized her love life as a disaster, and I had to stop myself from laughing.

"But we're both here now, for whatever reason. It doesn't feel like an accident. I know it sounds crazy, but I had a dream about you last night," Shelby said. "I was standing outside your house..."

"Holy fuck!" Puck exclaimed.

"NOAH!" Rachel admonished.

I wondered about their exchange, but neither seemed likely to explain just then. Shelby took a card out of her wallet and jotted on the back.

"That's my cell number," she said, handing Rachel the card. "Call me if you need anything. Um…if you're okay, I'm going to go. Are you okay?"

She scrutinized Rachel's face. Rachel nodded, and Shelby headed for the door.

"Wait!" Rachel exclaimed. Then she slowly crossed the room and wrapped her birthmother in a hug. Shelby held her arms up awkwardly, then gingerly patted the small brunette's back. When Rachel let her go, Shelby squeezed Rachel's hand briefly and dashed away, her high heels clacking on the linoleum.

"Let's go home," Quinn said softly, a protective hand on her own swollen belly, and she and Noah Puckermen guided Rachel away, leaving me alone with Will and my thoughts.

AN- Thanks for reading. Drop a line to tell me what you thought, or to make any comments or requests.