A/N: Before anything else, Happy and Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it! I hope everyone's having a lovely day. As a present, whether you celebrate or not, this chapter is extra lengthy!

Thank you once again for all the support! And, in case you didn't catch the updated Author's Note in the previous chapter - I accidentally forgot to publish an earlier chapter. Therefore, if you're craving ensemble interaction, learning more about our leading heroine, and a hint of mischief, check out "Conversations and Interrogations". Should be Chapter 5!

Also, in response to a guest reviewer - I certainly can agree that water has quite the impact. In regards to that "forgotten" something, I'm afraid we'll just have to wait and see ;) :)

_._

"Mrs. Hughes!" She had boxes of overflowing decorations held in her arms. Tinsel of all colours, garland that snaked out the boxes, lines of "fairy" lights intertwined with the contents, even fake holly and mistletoe seemed to be packed away in the containers she now carried."It's hardly Christmas, now is it?"

"Mr. Carson," Elsie began, taking him out of his reverie and bringing him to grab at least one box from her. "I noticed that closet in 403 is completely empty. Surely we could be putting it to good use by storing some decorations for the concert."

"But, Mrs. Hughes," She ducked out of his reach, determined to hold onto to every one of the boxes she held. "We don't decorate for our concert."

"What do you mean, you don't decorate?" It was a question that bordered on an impolite tone. However, he supposed one would be impolite when one's carting around so many boxes for who knows how long. "Why on Earth do you not decorate?"

Fortunately, fortunately for his chivalry that is, she allowed him to get the doors.

"We don't decorate because-" He could feel her eyebrow raise at this pause, awaiting his response, even though she was still hidden by those boxes. "Because it is simply unnecessary."

"Is it now?"

He sighed, having the urge to roll his eyes - just like he's caught her doing from time to time. And, with her back now to him, he decided to humor the urge.

He even stuck his tongue out for good measure.

'Where did you even get all of this, Mrs. Hughes?"

_._

"The Shepherd's heard the Angel's cry,"

"A merry song that night sung he."

"The Shepherd-"

"No, no, that's not quite right!"

The choir fell into a hush as Mrs. Hughes brought her hands to her sides. She wasn't frustrated, but the song was lacking and that much was clear.

But, she wasn't one to stop them in the middle of a piece. Stopping in the middle of a section, that was fine and dandy.

Halting them in the middle of a lyric was not quite her style.

"Who are you in this piece?" At this, they were simply confused.

"Students?" Came Daisy's hesitant response.

"While it is true that you are indeed students, I'd like to who know you are when singing this song."

"Do you mean to say who we are in regards to the context of the piece?" Edith asked from her section.

"Close. Context and your relation to it is important to keep in mind - it helps you to understand the song even more. But, what I'm asking is something that's a little different.

"Essentially, what is your driving force to perform this? What are the thoughts that push you to sing these words?"

They continued to blankly stare at her, absolutely silent in that typical fashion of teenagers.

"We can easily stop rehearsing today if nobody has an answer to that." Sybil immediately began to open her mouth, "That is, nobody who doesn't normally speak up."

The youngest of the Crawley sisters closed her mouth and proceeded to look around the room.

"Well," Gwen Dawson, a Second Soprano from Bel Canto, began to speak. "I like how there's an echo within the parts. And it's a traditional song, but I haven't heard this version before. Makes it different."

Elsie smiled at this short and sweet response.

"I certainly do prefer this one to Mathias's. And, I like the echo myself. " She confessed, sharing a smile with Gwen. "Anyone else?"

After a few moments, one student remarked that he liked the use of Latin in this arrangement - instead of just singing it all in English. Another soon spoke of how she enjoyed the big crescendo from everyone after the sopranos get their own form of a solo.

Soon, the whole group was becoming energized. Similar lines of thought were being thrown out, other ideas explored. And, after about ten minutes of discussion, Mrs. Hughes called for their attention once more.

"Now that you've taken note of why you enjoy singing this in the first place, I want you to look at one another's faces. What do you see?"

Silence fell once more, and Elsie refrained from rolling her eyes at the now blank stares re-emerging from the crowd.

"Well, it's not there now," Her voice coaxed some sheepish smiles. "But I do believe it is returning."

"Is it our smiles?" Sybil Crawley was not only kind, she was rather bright.

"Yes. While you were speaking of why you liked the song, you all glowed and smiled far more than I've ever seen from any of you while singing." This brought some nervous chuckles, but she wasn't done speaking. "And guess what?"

After about half a minute of silence, she decided to let them get away with not guessing this time.

"Your smiles are just as wonderful as your voices. And, in some ways, your facial expressions and stage presence are more important than your voices."

Blinks and dropping jaws greeted her now, and this time she really had to stop herself from looking up towards the ceiling - in an attempt to ask for further patience - before continuing on.

"When I was asking you earlier about 'who you are' in this song, I was referring to the fact that you are almost always storytellers with singing. And with storytelling comes the importance of not only singing with intention, but also showing said intention in your face and body.

"Let me show you what I mean." Elsie met all of their stares willingly, "If I were to sing like this,"

She let her shoulders slump, had her face fall into a bored sort of look, and even tilted her chin towards the ground for good measure before singing.

"The shepherds heard the angel's cry,"

It was a flat and droopy cry for what was normally a hushed whisper.

"A merry song that night sung he."

Personally, the "merry song" seemed more dull and banal than anything. Not only did her voice reflect a "zombie" like quality that was accurate but sounded like a flat tone, her posture simply held no excitement or anything for her audience to absorb.

Upon looking up at her students again, she could tell they were both taken aback and faintly amused by her rendition.

"Beautiful, am I right?" Was the sarcastic, rhetorical question that brought forth a few snickers.

"On the other hand, if I were to sing like so,"

Her back straightened will practiced ease, her head raised into a balanced position as her eyes glowed with a much stronger determination. And within her jawline, she now carried a hint of mirth as she began to bring forth intentional, accurate notes.

"The shepherd heard the angel's cry,"

She allowed the note to flow just a bit more than the previous version, as though her voice were carried by a powerful, purposeful wind. It had forward motion, it had delightful control and, for the soft dynamic, it sounded as clear as a bell.

"A merry song that night sung he."

A whisper, it still was.

A weak and wispy version of the lyric, it no longer could pretend to be.

"Now," She retrieved her pitch pipe from her pocket, "You try to mimic me. And, yes, you can even try singing with my brogue if it helps."

It didn't to sing with the brogue.

But it did provide immense amusement and more energy when they chose to sing the section once again.

_._

They'd accidentally crossed one another's path by pure accident - simply waiting for their friends in the same location after school.

But, after a minute of awkward silence, Sybil found she couldn't help but ask Thomas just one thing.

"I don't know why you don't just come to our rehearsals - it's just the sort of thing I think you'd like." She can't help but confess, after it's clear that no one they're waiting for will be arriving anytime soon.

"You really think so?"

She doesn't respond to his sarcasm with her own - instead, she looks at him imploringly.

"Really." Her earnest remark, combined with the accepting air she almost always managed to carry, made it difficult to throw a scathing response together. So, he settled for something that wouldn't be as eloquent, but would certainly sting.

"I don't see why any of this is your business. Or why you believe you have any right to talk to me like this." Her eyes narrowed a bit, and Thomas finally thought he got the Crawley sister to just leave him alone.

Honestly, even with the respect that he held for Sybil, he had no interest in discussing this with her.

"I feel I can speak this way because I think everyone deserves the chance to be happy. And, I think this will give you happiness."

He stared, not having expected that from her.

Though, in all honesty, he really should've.

"Sybil?"

"Tom," She smiled, starting to turn away from Thomas.

But, not before giving him one more piece of advice.

"Consider it. Please." She fixed him with another stare. "And, if you can't join now, consider joining in the spring."

_._

After the "Smoothing Iron" incident and the little "Secret Garden" scene, it seemed Mr. Carson was making more of an effort to listen in on the a cappella rehearsals.

Of course, that came to a halt once Elsie mentioned potentially bringing Journey into the fold, unlike her original plan.

After all, the song had been brought forth as per Cora Crawley's request.

And Cora Crawley was not a woman one said no to.

At the suggestion, the choir director had immediately ran back into his comfort zone - his own classroom. Of course, Elsie had no real intention of performing Journey this semester, even though she did want to have a bit of fun with at least one song.

In any case, it was hardly her fault if she actually fulfilled the promises she made to her students and their parents.

Speaking of...

_._

"Mrs. Hughes," Tom Branson was hardly the type to stay after-school just to make small chat with a teacher.

That meant she absolutely curious as to what he wanted to discuss.

"Yes, Tom?" The boy seemed to have ready himself for rejection, but soldiered on with his question nevertheless.

"Well, it's just that I was wondering if I could make a song request, since we still have a lot of time before the concert."

While nine weeks isn't exactly 'a lot of time', they are doing better than I anticipated. I suppose hearing him out won't hurt.

"What was it that you had in mind, Tom?" He hardly needed a quarter of a minute, let alone two seconds to bluntly state his request:

"Something Irish."

"Something Irish?" It felt stupid to repeat such a question, but she couldn't help but do so.

"Something Irish." He was absolutely serious in his request, that much was clear.

Even if it was rather vague.

Elsie glanced back at the cabinets filled with a system she still didn't quite fully understand, before looking back to see his earnest face staring her down.

She internally sighed.

"Did you have anything in mind? Something to narrow the search down?" He blinked a moment, but sheepishly shrugging.

"I didn't think I'd get this far, to be honest, Mrs. Hughes."

This time, she let her sigh emit itself with a hint of a snort soon following.

_._

"Now, as you may have noticed," It was one of their final pieces for the Mixed Choir that Mr. Carson was now passing out.

And there was a reason why the voice director had been refraining from bringing it into the fold just yet.

Both he and Elsie seemed to be quite calm but were in fact bracing themselves for the inevitable change in atmosphere once the ensemble before him actually looked at their music. "There is a soprano solo."

Please, allow this to be a smooth audition process instead of the normal mess. Mrs. Hughes thought darkly to herself, ready to do battle.

Immediately, dozens of young ladies bolted to attention at this - all in their own ways. Some stared more intently at the music, others piercingly gazed right at the two teachers, whilst a few stiffened in their seats and feigned disinterest. Few were not taken with the glamour of the idea, true, but many attentively focused on any word Mr. Carson now had to say.

"Auditions will be held after school tomorrow and Wednesday. If you are interested, you may drop by 402 during any of the lunch periods or after-school. The soloist will be announced by Thursday."

Whispers broke out at this, as she knew they would. And even the glare of the stern voice director couldn't silence the excitement.

Something told Mrs. Hughes that they would be going over the notes for this part many, many times over the next two days.

Fortunately, she had Ibuprofen for the inevitable migraine and Band-Aids if her fingers just so happened to start bleeding.

_._

"Well that went swimmingly," Sarah remarked caustically, having refrained from clutching her ears from the pain. Hearing the solo repeatedly rehearsed as a group by all able and willing girls - that is to say, almost everyone in the soprano section - meant that she was quite ready to leave at the ringing of the bell.

"Could have been worse," He snarked in response, "They could have had them sing it individually."

"Thomas," The sharp voice of their choir teacher made itself known over the din of so many students leaving.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes?"

"I'd like a word after-school." He resisted the urge to scowl, settling for a mild, "Yes, Mrs. Hughes." before he and the only tolerable singer in the crowd left the room.

"What do you suppose that's all about?"

"We'll just have to wait and see, now won't we?"

But, he was curious himself.

Only mildly curious, mind, but still.

_._

It had been a longer day than normal, the type where one wanted to retire from it all as soon as possible. The altos in Bel Canto were beautiful yet painfully shy - hindering the perfect notes they already held. The baritones in the Men's Ensemble were struggling for some reason to mesh with the basses and tenors quite as well as normal. The beginner women's ensemble seemed unusually out of sorts today - taking the whole class to go over only two of their songs. And it was clear as day that Advanced Mixed was far too distracted by the solo in "Breath of Heaven" to have properly focused on anything.

Still, Elsie was still hoping Thomas would actually drop by for that word she wanted.

And, soon enough, she heard the baritone in question approach the classroom.

"You wanted to have a word, Mrs. Hughes?" She nodded, observing him as he entered the classroom. If she were to look past the superficial demeanor he presented, she could almost see-

Well, it wouldn't hardly do to simply think about the matter, now would it?

"I did indeed." He waited a beat, faintly lifting an eyebrow as his features morphed into feigned patience.

"Is there something wrong, Mrs. Hughes?"

"Nothing is 'wrong', per se, Thomas," He hardly looked appeased by that. Still, who would be? "But I do have a question I'd like to put to you."

The eyebrow receded, and even more of a mask seemed to overtake the teen. Which meant that she'd hardly get a straight response if she attempted to beat around the bush.

Well, Elsie never really preferred to beat around the bush in any case - it was simply what the job called for at times.

"What do you like about a cappella singing?" If she didn't need to be so serious, she might've chuckled at Thomas's shock - a form of surprise that made itself unusually plain.

"I'm sorry?" He's inquisitive, but he's not drawing up walls at her question.

"Well, I've noticed you seemed interested in a cappella singing, and yet you never volunteered to be a part of the choir. So, I wanted to know why."

He regained a bit of that ghastly "neutral" attitude she'd seen since Day 1. The one that spoke of cynicism that she personally never wanted to see in any of her students.

"I'm not sure as to what you mean, Mrs. Hughes." She almost wanted to roll her eyes at this. His obstinacy was clearly as bad as Mr. Carson's. "And, I believe I need to be making my way back home now, so if you'll excuse me."

He turned away, walking purposefully back towards the door.

"You're a good singer, Thomas, one of the better baritones of the choir." Which was indeed a compliment, seeing as how he was in the Mixed Choir. "And you are always welcomed to sing in my choir."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes." He paused, clearly not convinced at all by the praise or the invitation. "I shall give the thought all the consideration it is due."

Impertinent and oily, that would really be the only way to classify that response.

Yet, he had stopped at her offer instead of pretending to not have heard a thing.

And, Thomas's exit allowed Elsie to see that it was indeed he who had been hiding just outside the door, listening to the audition of the a cappella choir.

Furthermore, she had caught him humming parts of "This is the Moment". Not only that, she knew he was picking up the songs they'd been starting to work on - just from hearing Jimmy rehearse, no doubt.

So, maybe, there was hope for this opportunity yet.

In any case, there wasn't time for contemplation. Not with another student waiting right outside the door.

"Mrs. Hughes," She hadn't been expecting to be approached by Edith Crawley - and certainly not at the end of a very, very long day. Still, even with it being a never-ending day, she didn't really mind being called upon one more time.

"Yes, Edith?"

The young lady stopped a moment, hesitantly meeting her teacher's eye.

"Well, I was wondering if you could help me a little with something."

_._

"You should try for it." They'd taken to walking home together, since they lived close by and in the same direction.

"What, the solo?" Anna couldn't help but guess the topic. After all, she'd been debating the same thing since Mr. Carson announced it.

"Yeah. I've heard you sing - you've got a nice voice."

"You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Bates." It was a little joke they'd shared, ever since Mr. Carson had accidentally called him that one day. Course, Alfred and Jimmy made the joke just a bit more vulgar, but it was still their little joke at the end of the day.

"Yes, well, I don't think my range is quite ready for such a solo." Especially seeing as how he could barely use his falsetto.

Which was of course something they both knew, and something that he now had to prove - to his now laughing audience - by belting out a very poor rendition of the solo.

Complete with as much over-the-top choreography as he possibly could.

_._

A/N: While I have my own ideas on who should receive the solo, I am open to suggestions :)

So long as they are a female in Advance, I'm down to consider anyone - even if it's an OC not previously mentioned. In any case, this list includes: Anna, Mary, Sybil, Edith, O'Brien, and Rose.

Normally, I'd be gender-neutral but, as a tenor will find out, this solo is one that Mr. Carson would be a stickler about.

And, if you'd like to listen to the solo, look at "Breath of Heaven *Arranged by Craig Courtney". The choir in particular should be wearing ball-gowns and suits. The solo is the first 60 seconds and the last 40 seconds.

In any case, have a great day!