"All the single ladies, all the single ladies…"

Sheldon and Emily were in his basement, blasting Beyoncé and trying feverishly to learn the dance.

Emily had worn a leotard for the occasion, but Sheldon had opted for the manlier version – leggings and a vest over that leotard.

Many in glee had wondered if Sheldon even liked girls, given his unbridled flamboyance, but they soon realized that he was simply so comfortable with himself that he wasn't afraid to share his interests with anyone who would listen.

Emily was happy that she and Sheldon had agreed to be friends. He still felt a little skittish around her at times, given his residual crush and lingering guilt over busting her window, but they were getting along better than ever.

"We should record this for posterity," Sheldon suggested, but Emily shot that down quickly.

"You are not getting this ridiculousness on tape."

"Why? We're good." Sheldon was genuinely puzzled. "Why wouldn't you want your dance moves preserved for the ages?"

"Because, I look so clumsy next to you," Emily complained.

Sheldon made a disapproving sound. "Come here." He positioned her feet and arms where they should be and restarted the song. "Just follow my lead. You're wonderful."

Soon enough, they made it through the entire song without any (okay, many) mistakes.

Emily grabbed Sheldon around the neck. "That was so much fun!" He looked down at her, eyes twinkling, a little out of breath.

"It was," he said as he hugged her.

Just then, Sheldon's father walked into the basement, looking bewildered.

"Dad," Sheldon squeaked, immediately letting go of Emily. "You're home early."

"Rachel Maddow is on," he replied, frowning.

It was no secret that Mr. Shlepper disapproved of Sheldon's penchant for dramatics. He could acknowledge his son's talent, but that didn't mean he wanted him dancing up and down the school hallways. The Shleppers were all about high achievement, and although Sheldon got good grades, he could not possibly become class president, valedictorian, and all the other things his siblings had been, without concentrating on his studies. Glee was just not a good option for him. It wouldn't even help get him into any colleges, like sports would.

Mr. Shlepper looked his son up and down. "What are you wearing?"

Sheldon hid his discomfort. "Oh, this?" He motioned to his clothes. "Guys wear this to…uh, work out, nowadays."

Mr. Shlepper cocked his head, and his frown deepened.

"Football!" Emily cried, trying to be helpful. She saw how uncomfortable Sheldon was. It was the first thing that had come to her mind.

"Yeah, all the guys in football wear them," Sheldon said, giving Emily a grateful nod.

"Sheldon's on the football team now," Emily said before she could stop herself. Where had that come from? She could tell by Sheldon's surprised squeak that it was a mistake.

But, encouraged by his father's interested expression, Sheldon nodded. "Emily was just helping me with some…conditioning…uh, work." He glanced at his iPod, which had thankfully not gone right into the rest of his Beyoncé playlist after "Single Ladies" ended.

Mr. Shlepper shrugged. "Well, you know I'm not much for football, but it's great you're building up your resume. Just don't let your grades suffer." And as an afterthought, "Oh, and at least now you won't have time for that silly glee club."

Sheldon winced. "Uh-huh."

"Hey, are you his girlfriend?" Mr. Shlepper asked Emily.

Emily blushed. "N-no. Just friends."

Sheldon covered his face with his hands, but removed them quickly when his father turned back to him.

"Well, just keep that music down. I can't hear myself think upstairs."

So he had heard the song. Sheldon nodded a reply.

"Oh," Mr. Shlepper paused at the bottom of the stairs, "make sure to get me a ticket to your first game."

As soon as his father was upstairs, Sheldon groaned and flopped down on the couch. "Emily!"

"Sorry!" Emily squeaked.

"What am I gonna do now?"

~L~

Casey stared happily at the sheet music Paul had just handed everyone at the beginning of rehearsal.

But something caught her eye. "Excuse me, Paul, but this isn't the right key."

Paul had been anticipating this and was ready with his response: a cool, collected, "No, it's the right key."

Casey knitted her eyebrows. "But this is the alto part."

Paul nodded. "Yup. We're going to have Kendra try the solo."

Kendra looked up from studying the lyrics. "Really?"

Casey pouted. "I'm sorry, there must be some sort of mix-up. I thought I made it very clear that anything from West Side Story goes to me."

Paul sighed. "Casey."

"Maria is my part," she continued. "Natalie Wood was of Russian descent you know. I'm one-eighth Russian. I've always felt a sort of kinship to her." She looked pleadingly at Paul.

"I'm just trying to shake things up a bit. Get us out of our boxes," Paul explained.

"You're trying to punish me!"

Paul shrugged. "I think you're being irrational." He'd exorcise the diva out of her if it was the last thing he did.

"I think you're being unfair!"

Kendra held up a hand, tired of the arguing. Casey was such a brat. "I don't have to do the stupid song."

Paul turned to look at her. "Do you want to do it?"

Kendra pursed her lips. "Well, yeah. Casey's not the only one who loves West Side Story." She shot Casey a death glare as Paul turned away from her.

Casey stood firm. "But I'm sure Kendra knows she's not ready for such an iconic role as Maria…"

Kendra stepped forward, eyebrows arched. "Wanna bet?"

Paul got between the frosty stare-down. "Girls! We can settle this without getting rude about it, can't we?"

Casey turned on her heel and stomped away.

Noel and Sam exchanged exasperated looks. "The more times she storms out of rehearsal," Noel pointed to Casey's retreating form, "the less impact it has."

Emily threw up her hands. "I'll go talk to her." She followed Casey into the hall, but Casey was already out of sight.

Paul groaned. "This is going so well."

Kendra smirked at Sally, who quickly gave her a low high-five so the others couldn't see.

~L~

Sheldon begged the football coach for a spot on the team. Coach Fox only agreed to a tryout.

Sheldon stared at the football players, practicing impossible-looking drills out on the green. He put on his helmet and jogged over to the coach, trying to ignore his nausea. "I'm all ready, Coach. I just need my music."

"Music?" Coach Fox scoffed. "What do you mean? The guys don't practice to music."

"Look, Coach, with all due respect, my body is like a rum chocolate soufflé. If I don't warm it up right, it doesn't rise. I have to do this my way."

Coach Fox stood at the edge of the field, considering whether that was supposed to mean something dirty, as Sheldon set up his CD player.

The team trotted to the sidelines to see what all the fuss was about.

"Hey, I'm Max Miller," a friendly-looking player said to Sheldon.

They shook hands. "Sheldon Shlepper."

"Sophomore, right? You ever played before?"

"Yes. And no, I haven't played before."

"We're not very good, but you'll have fun. Good luck!" Max went over to where his team had huddled around their coach, and, to his horror, Sheldon realized that Ryan Sylvester gave Max a fist bump as he trotted up. Sheldon had totally forgotten about The Fridge. He was definitely not going to make the team if Ryan had any kind of say. And knowing Ryan, he did.

"Everyone take a knee," Coach Fox was saying as Sheldon hurried over to join the team. "Six games. Our kicker, Mr. Langenthal," he patted Langenthal's shoulder, "is zero for twelve in field goal attempts. As most of you statistically-minded people know," he took a step towards Langenthal and bellowed, "That! Sucks!"

Langenthal looked like he was about to cry.

"So Mr. Langenthal," Coach continued, "will thusly now be in charge of hydration services." Langenthal hung his head. "The next player to get a football between those uprights will get his job."

That was Sheldon's cue. "Hello, everyone. I'm Sheldon Shlepper, and I'll be auditioning for the role of kicker."

There were a few snickers, but no one said anything rude. Sheldon breathed a sigh of relief.

Of course, the tranquility didn't last. Ryan set up the first kick. "You'll never make it," Ryan taunted. "You're just a glee club loser. What makes you think you can play football, huh, pretty boy?"

Sheldon ignored him. He placed his CD player near where Ryan was squatting and pressed play.

"Up on him, he up on me. Don't pay him any attention…" Sheldon shook out his arms a little to loosen himself up. Then he began dancing the "Single Ladies" steps, all the way up to where Ryan was holding the ball. He could hear the laughter of the football players, as well as Ryan's cruel chuckle, but he didn't let anything distract him.

Before he knew it, he was up to the ball, and it was time to kick. In one swift motion, he brought his leg forward, connecting it solidly with the football.

Ryan followed the ball's trajectory in horror as soon as he felt it disappear from beneath his fingertips.

Sheldon was watching the ball, too. He held his breath as it sailed across the field and flew neatly between the two goal posts.

Every member of the football team dropped his helmet from his hands. The helmets landed with lots of thuds on the grass.

Sheldon could hear Emily cheering from the stands. He reached over and pressed the "stop" button on his player. Coach Fox ran over to him.

"That was good, right?" Sheldon asked, beaming.

Coach Fox put a hand on his shoulder and stared at him. "Can you do that with the game on the line, and ten gorillas bearing down on you, wanting nothing more than to taste your sweet virgin blood?"

Sheldon played it cool. "Sounds like fun. Can I have my music?"

"You kick like that, and you can wear a tutu for all I care!" Coach Fox held up Sheldon's arm for him and waved it. "Gentlemen!" he called to the rest of the team, "We have found ourselves a kicker!"

Sheldon turned to see a rage-filled Ryan stomping his helmet into the ground.

~L~

Sally sobbed into her open locker, hoping the hallways would be empty soon, and she could get some privacy.

No such luck.

"Sal?" Ralph ran up to her. She shut her locker and began walking away, keeping her face turned away from him.

"Sally! Hey! What's with the silent treatment?" Ralph grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to face him. "Whatever I did, I'm sor—" he caught sight of her tear-stained face. "Sal?"

Sally took a deep breath, and, looking deep into Ralph's eyes, announced shakily, "I'm pregnant."

Sally was saying something about drugstore tests and missed periods, but all Ralph could hear was his racing heart drumming up a storm in his chest.

He convinced himself that he wasn't sure he'd actually heard Sally say anything at all. Maybe he'd had a bad burrito at lunch or something and it was messing with his head.

"I just thought you should know," Sally continued, and Ralph snapped out of his denial.

"Mine?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth. Real smooth.

Sally recoiled as if she'd been slapped. "Of course. Who else's would it be?"

Ralph thought back. "But we never…" He definitely did not recall having sex. He would have remembered that.

"Last month…" Sally looked down. "Hot tub…"

Ralph glanced around wildly. He remembered that, alright. He and Sally had been going hot and heavy in her hot tub, clothed in bathing suits of course, and when she started to kiss down his neck, he got…excited. "Think of the mailman!" she'd cried, over and over, but it didn't do any good. He pictured that day in the car with his grandma, but it was too late, he'd lost the battle with his body.

Jerked back to the present by his now openly weeping girlfriend, Ralph confirmed, "But we were wearing our swimsuits."

"My O.B. said it's the perfect temperature for sperm…it helps it swim faster."

Ralph began to hyperventilate, finally convinced that this was really happening. What would his grandma say?! "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god." He took a deep breath. "Are you gonna get a…" He couldn't bring himself to say "abortion." He thought of his very pro-life grandma. "Oh my god."

"No, I'm not." Sally hung her head. "I really thought I had a shot of getting out of this town." A fresh batch of sobs wracked her frame, and Ralph wanted to hug her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Sally leaned into him, tears soaking his shoulder. He was vaguely aware that the bell had rung sometime during their conversation, and the hallway had emptied. He stared at the wall, trying to think of something, anything, to say to her. His mind was a total blank.

~L~

Ryan went to see Sandy Ryerson directly after football practice. He was a whiny, pathetic weasel of a man, but Ryan needed his help. Glee club was becoming more and more mainstream. Sheldon joining the football team was the last straw. He needed to make sure glee was disbanded for good, and Sandy needed his job at the school back: they could help each other out. So Ryan paid him a visit and convinced him that going back to teaching was the perfect way to get over Josh Groban. In turn, Sandy would help him destroy Paul and his sorry singing club.

"Absolutely not," Lassiter told him when Ryan asked for Sandy to be reinstated. "I'm never letting Sandy Ryerson back in this school."

Ryan put his laptop on Lassiter's desk. It was time to pull out all the stops. "Take a look at this." He clicked on a folder marked "Blackmail." It contained several documents. The one he opened contained a commercial for Lufthansa, featuring a much younger Lassiter wearing Lederhosen and sitting on a park bench.

"Vascular embolisms are a serious hazard on long distance flights," the on-screen Lassiter said in German. There were English subtitles at the bottom of the screen. "So make sure to stretch your legs every hour to prevent clotting. For additional protection," he began putting on flesh-colored pantyhose, "anti-embolism stockings can be purchased from your flight attendants."

Ryan grinned devilishly at Lassiter. "I would hate to see this video circulating around the school. Or better yet, YouTube."

Lassiter cringed, embarrassed. "What do you want?"

Ryan held up his fingers and ticked off his points. "I want Sandy—"

"Mr. Ryerson," Lassiter corrected.

Ryan ignored him. "—Sandy to become head of glee club. Paul is running it into the ground." Another finger tick. "I want Sandy to become head of the drama department. That mental patient Katrina you have running it is getting crazier every day." Last tick. "I want Casey McDonald out of glee. She's a menace."

Lassiter sighed. "I will only agree to give Sandy a position as vocal coach. I've already hired a new music teacher. He can work with the new teacher part-time. I refuse to let him become a full-fledged faculty member again."

Ryan shrugged. "That's more than I thought you'd give me. You're going soft, Lassie."

Lassiter's eyes widened as Ryan sauntered from his office. He had been played.

Ryan really was content. He had made his demands knowing that asking for more than he wanted would get him a better compromise than he would have gotten otherwise. Sandy answered to Ryan now, which meant he could help lure Casey away from glee, and hopefully help with the club's downfall.

~L~

Casey approached the notice board in the hallway. There was a flyer advertising a London Community Theater productionof Cabaret. Casey had been passing it all day, and finally, after classes, she decided to read the fine print.

There wasn't much of it. Be a Lead in our Community Theater! Audition for Cabaret! Must audition with Celine Dion song of your choice.

Casey loved Celine! And she was dying for a lead role. Glee these days was so depressing. She hated singing backup. She and Ralph had barely spoken in weeks, and Derek was his usual obnoxious self whenever she saw him. She needed a distraction. And this was the perfect one. Doing community theater wouldn't exactly bring the talent scouts, but she knew it was good experience for her resume.

Casey went to the community center that very day. She was going to audition with "Taking Chances," a song she knew would knock the judges' socks off. She was surprised to see that Mr. Ryerson seemed to be running things. She had never known him as a teacher, but she had heard him sing in Acafellas, and he was atrocious. But the other judges were more qualified, so Casey felt confident that this wasn't a waste of her time. She signed in, using her signature "ten" superscript at the end of her name, and stepped onto the stage.

"Wow," Mr. Ryerson said earnestly when she finished singing.

"What's next?" she asked. In hindsight she realized she should have thanked him, but she was too excited.

"Congratulations, Miss McDonald, you have just landed the lead," Mr. Ryerson told her.

Casey jumped up and down and giggled into her palm. Yes!

~L~

"This is a joke!" Paul cried as he entered Principal Lassiter's office. He had heard the disturbing news.

"Paul, Sandy's never been formally charged with anything. And the fact is, upon further reflection, my firing of him was rash."

Paul paced back and forth in front of the principal's desk. He glared at Lassiter.

"This is a wonderful thing, Paul. You're the one always complaining that the arts don't get enough attention around here!"

"This was Ryan's idea, I know it!" Paul cried. "He's always been out to get me!"

Just then, Ryan came through the door. "Paul, if I was out to get you, I'd have you pickling in a mason jar on my shelf by now."

"I heard Casey got the lead in Cabaret," Paul said accusingly to Ryan.

Ryan held up both hands in an "I'm innocent" gesture. "Hey, what kind of teacher are you, begrudging your students their success?"

Paul rounded on Lassiter. "What does he have on you?" When he didn't get an answer, Paul groaned and traipsed out of the office, defeated. For now.

~L~

Paul found Casey rehearsing backstage at the community center. He had one question. "Why?"

"An opportunity arose for me to showcase my talents and I took it," Casey told him matter-of-factly. "How's it any different from when you quit glee to form your boy band?" She put her leg up on the barre against the wall and stretched.

Paul put his hands in his pockets. "Because I didn't do it out of spite."

"I'm offended by that accusation. I've always been a team player." She paused. "Just admit it, Paul. You don't like me very much." She went back to her stretching, but the conversation was far from over.

Paul was offended she would even say that. She was hard to take sometimes, but he did like her. "That's not true. I am your biggest, and sometimes your only, fan."

Casey's head snapped up to look at him. She had never had a teacher so supportive of her ambitions, even in her all-girls school back in Chicago. It was nice to feel wanted. But she couldn't derail her future plans just because some teacher was nice to her. "Look. I know who I am, okay? I know I can be a little abrasive, bossy, and conceited. I'm just hurt that you chose to judge me on that rather than on my talent. I know it sounds awful, but I'm the best one in glee. I try the hardest, and I want it the most."

"Everyone knows that. And they're scared of it." Paul fudged this next part a little, because he knew that the others did work hard. But he needed Casey back, whatever it took. "They all think that they can slack off because you'll pick up their weight. We can't win regionals like that. We need everyone to be a perfect ten. Everyone needs to think they're a star."

"I'm not quitting glee, Paul. I'm just looking for a reason to stay."

"Oh, like me taking the solo away from Kendra and giving it to you?"

Casey's brow furrowed at the mention of Sally's friend. No good could come of her getting in the spotlight. "Everyone on the team has a reason for being there. You're doing a great job of getting them out of their shells. Look at Sam and Noel. The first day we met, they were both so nervous and awkward. Now, they're much more confident. But what about me? I'm still getting slushied once a week. The Cheerios flush my lipstick down the toilet. I still don't have a boyfriend." Her eyes welled up at the thought of Ralph. "Kendra's a great singer, but why do you have to hurt me to make her feel good?"

Paul was overcome with the emotional shockwaves coming off of her. Casey was in serious need of some support. Maybe she wasn't getting it at home, what with her mom spending so much time with her new boyfriend. She needed it from him, or she'd soon crack beyond repair. "Just come to rehearsal. And please, come visit me in my office if you're feeling bullied."

Casey didn't answer him. She simply grabbed her bag and walked out. She did a lot of walking away. Paul knew he needed to find some way for her to feel like she belonged. If not in glee, then somewhere. But he hoped it was glee.

~L~

Tinkles pounded away on the piano keys as Kendra belted out the lyrics to "Tonight."

Paul watched with a smile on his face. She was really good. Not Casey-good, but really good.

"…for here you are, and what was just a world is a star…tonight…" As Kendra held the last note, her voice faltered and she went totally off-key. Paul cringed.

"That was great, Kendra, good job." He clapped for her.

"You don't have to say that," Kendra said softly. To her surprise, she was actually disappointed that she hadn't hit that last "tonight." She had only joined glee out of solidarity for Sally, but she realized that singing was a lot of fun. She thought she might even stay in the club after Sally got her man out of Casey's clutches. "I was sharp. I can't do this." It killed her to say it, but she did anyway. "We need Casey."

"Hey, hey." Paul placed a comforting hand on each shoulder. "I need you to be great at regionals. To do that, you've got to know that you can do this."

"You have to give this song to Casey. She'll do it better. Besides, she'll quit if you don't."

Paul sighed. He knew she was right.

As Kendra left the stage, Ralph entered from the opposite direction. He had been crying, and he walked with his arms folded across his chest, shielding himself from the world. He stopped in front of Paul.

"Hey…" Paul said softly. Ralph broke down, and Paul pulled him into his arms. "It's okay."

Ralph cried, shuddering, against Paul, and Paul rubbed his back. He couldn't imagine what had upset happy-go-lucky Ralph so much.

~L~

Paul took Ralph to dinner, and over the seafood special, he heard the whole sordid tale.

Well, okay, not the whole tale. Just the facts: Sally was pregnant and Ralph was the father.

Damn.

Paul's heart was in his throat and his stomach had settled somewhere around his shins. Ralph did not deserve this. Sure, he had brought it on himself, but for some reason, he blamed Sally more. She should have taken responsibility for their sex life. Ralph was an innocent. He probably still thought babies came from storks. Besides, Sally was the president of the Celibacy Club. Though he was upset, Paul could still appreciate the irony.

"You should tell your grandmother," Paul told him.

"I can't talk to her about this," Ralph said sadly.

"How far along is she?"

"I don't know…a couple weeks, maybe. It's pretty recent, I guess."

Paul knew it was time to stop being a friend and start being a guidance counselor. "Would you like me to set you up with Planned Parenthood?"

Ralph shook his head vehemently. "No, no, it's not even a conversation. She's keeping it."

Paul was surprised. He knew a little about Sally's dreams of med school. This would seriously derail her plans.

"I've seen guys around town who had kids in high school," Ralph continued. "They work at restaurants, or at the supermarket, or pumping gas, or worse. They're caged. No future. I can't become one of those dudes, Paul."

Paul patted his hand. "I'll help you figure something out. You can still have a career."

"We don't have any money. I want to get a hockey scholarship to college. I can't get in with my grades." He looked like he was about to cry again.

"I'll try my best to help you, Ralph. I promise."

~L~

Sheldon was actually doing well at football practice. Most of the team didn't talk to him at all, and the coach tried not to play him very often, but he was talented enough that he didn't get tortured in the hallways. Even Derek had stopped his daily torments. (He didn't want to chance getting into trouble with the football team for any reason.)

They had a game coming up, and Sheldon felt the dread reverberating off the locker room walls. The team thought they had no chance to win.

At glee one day, Ralph inadvertently gave Sheldon a brilliant idea. Apparently Paul had taught Derek and Ralph to dance for Acafellas using a baseball metaphor. If Sheldon could help the football team with their agility, help them learn how to properly use their bodies, it might make them confident enough to play better. Ralph was stunned Sheldon had gotten all that from a simple story about swinging your hips while hitting a baseball. Sheldon just smiled.

He pitched the idea before a practice. Coach Fox was all for it. Anything to increase their chances of winning even one game.

"Listen up," Coach told the team as they gathered in the locker room. "Since Sheldon here seems to be the only one who can score on this team, I've decided to let him try some unorthodox training regimens."

Sheldon explained his idea.

Ryan punched a locker. "This is garbage! What does Beyoncé have to do with football? Why are we even listening to Justin Timberlake over here?"

"Quiet, Sylvester," Coach Fox barked. Ryan turned to Sheldon and made a slitting motion across his throat.

Sheldon didn't even flinch. He could handle Ryan…because the rest of the team actually looked somewhat interested.

"Yeah, I mean, look at Jim Brown, Dick Butkus, even O.J. All pretty tough guys, all performers," Max spoke up, and Sheldon gave him a grateful smile.

"Yeah, think about it," Sheldon agreed. "If you can sing and dance in front of people, everything else is easy."

"Coach!" Ryan whined. But Coach Fox held up a hand for him to be quiet.

"Ryan, we lost all respect when we lost to that school for the deaf. We literally have nowhere to go but up."

Ryan punched a locker again, but he stayed quiet. He knew if he kept disagreeing or walked out, Coach Fox could kick him off the team. And he didn't really have any blackmail on Fox that would force his hand.

"In The Art of War," Sheldon explained, "Sun Tzu says that you should never let the enemy know you. Our greatest weapon could be the element of surprise." He glared at Ryan. "Don't tell me you wouldn't be on your heels if the other team started busting a move on the field."

Coach Fox nodded. "Okay, that's enough talking. Let's go, gentlemen. In the choir room, in full pads, in five."

~L~

Paul was pretty busy, but he couldn't say no when Sheldon had asked him to teach the football team to dance. The idea was so ludicrous it just had to work. Besides, he was looking forward to having the upper hand with Ryan for once.

"Five, six, seven, eight. Step ball change, up…"

He was surprised to see that many of the players weren't half bad. A little rough and unpracticed, but they could handle simple combinations.

"Your hips are still a little tight, guys. It's like when you're playing football. It's all about the lateral movement." He was about to demonstrate when Sheldon stepped forward with a smile. Paul bowed to him and moved out of his way.

"Alright boys," Sheldon said. He caught Ryan's sneer and smirked at him. "Hand, hand, point to the ring finger…"

When he got to "Comb through the hair, then slap the butt," Ryan overturned a chair, muttering obscenities as he stormed out of the choir room.

Coach Fox shrugged. "Keep going. Ryan won't be playing in the next game, that's all."

Paul's eyes met Sheldon's and he winked discreetly. Sheldon could barely contain his laughter.

~L~

"What's going on with you, Ralph?" Derek asked after hockey practice that afternoon.

"I've just got a lot on my mind."

As usual, Derek didn't push for information. But he knew this time something was really wrong. Ralph's face was all blotchy, like he'd been crying. He wouldn't admit it, but Derek was worried.

"It's personal," Ralph reiterated when he caught Derek staring at him.

Just to tease him, Derek said in mock horror, "I knew it. Glee turned you gay."

Ralph didn't even crack a smile. "Sally's pregnant. She's keeping the baby."

Derek's eyes widened. He did some mental math. It was possible that he was…uh-oh.

Luckily, he didn't have to come up with a response, because Ralph had already walked away in a daze. Derek ran for the restroom, but puking didn't make him feel any better.

~L~

Sally wandered the empty McKinley halls after Cheerios practice, wondering how it was possible that everything in her life had changed in a split second. She almost bumped into Derek, who was waiting for her at her locker.

"Leave me alone," she said coldly.

"Who's the father?" Derek asked, more harshly than he had intended.

Sally's lip quivered, but she concentrated on remembering her combination and opening the locker door.

"I just think it's weird, you know, since Ralph thinks it's his baby, and you told me you were a virgin when we did it. And I know for a fact you and Ralph didn't…"

Sally gave him a withering glare. "How can you be so sure?"

Derek sighed. "Ralph's my friend. He would have told me." He was pretty confident that that was true.

"And tell me Derek, do you make a habit of sleeping with your friends' girlfriends?" Sally grabbed her books, shut her locker, and began walking towards the door.

"Hey!" He caught up to her and grabbed her arm. "Guess we should alert the Vatican."

"Huh?" Sally's eyes were glassy, and it jarred Derek to see her so upset.

"Well, we have another immaculate conception on our hands here, don't we?" Derek's joke didn't seem so funny when Sally burst into tears.

"Go to hell!" she screamed at him, and shoved him away.

He pulled her into an embrace and patted her hair as she cried. "I'd take care of it, Sal. You, too. I make good money with my pool cleaning business. I would never be a deadbeat dad." He swallowed, but the lump in his throat was still there. He really believed he could do it, even though the idea of having a kid scared the shit out of him. But he couldn't let Ralphie take the fall for his mistake.

Sally straightened up and pulled away from him. "I had sex with you because I was drunk on wine coolers, and I felt fat that day. But it was a mistake. You're a London loser, and you're always going to be a London loser. I don't want you."

That hurt. She knew about his dream of leaving town. It cut especially deep, because she shared the same dream. They had even talked about their plans the day they got drunk and, stupidly, had unprotected sex. Derek looked down at his shoes, unsure of what to say. By the time he looked up, Sally was gone.

~L~

The McKinley football field was illuminated by the stadium lights. Emily, Sam, and Noel filed onto the bleachers and found seats. They waved to Amy and Kendra, who were down on the field with the Cheerios. The girls waved back. Emily briefly wondered where Sally was, but she'd been quiet all day. Maybe she wasn't feeling well. Emily had invited Ralph to the game, but he hadn't shown either. Weird.

She recognized Sheldon's parents a few rows down. She tried to get their attention, but the crowd was too noisy. She also saw Paul sitting next to Ms. Zeldin, and wondered why his wife wasn't there. She was about to ask Noel and Sam their opinions about all the absences, but thought better of it; she had to break her gossip habit.

Noel started a wave, and it caught on. But it wasn't a very enthusiastic one. The fans on their side of the bleachers knew they would be watching another disappointment.

Out on the field, Max was giving the pep talk. "I really think we came together this week as a team."

"Yeah, a big gay team," Ryan snarked. "A big gay team of dancing gays."

A few of the other players murmured their agreement. "Yeah, Max, it was fun in practice, but we can't do this in front of everybody. It'll make us even more of a joke," one said.

Max shrugged. "Come on, guys. Either way, we have to go out there."

They broke up, and Ryan trudged over to the benches with the players who weren't starting. The rest of the team assembled on the field.

Max called the play. "Divert right, eighty-seven on one. Break!" The players clapped their agreement, and the ref blew the starting whistle.

"Yo, QB," a player on the other team called to Max. "Your mom's so fat the back of her neck look like a pack of hot dogs! Get me some ketchup!"

The play started, and the McKinley players got tackled right away.

They tried again. "Punch and Judy on one," Max called the play. "Break!"

Yet again, they were shut out of every chance for a touchdown. By the third quarter, McKinley was down by six to zero.

They lost ground left and right, and the crowd groaned as there was a pileup. McKinley just could not hold on to the ball.

With less than a minute left in the fourth quarter, Max called a time out.

In the huddle, he exclaimed, "We gotta do it!"

"We'll be jokes for the rest of our high school lives," someone griped.

"We're already jokes!" Max shot back.

"Yo left tackle, your mom's so fat her cereal bowl comes with its own lifeguard," came a taunt from the other team.

Max had had enough. "Yo, ankle grabber," he called as he made his way towards the enemy. "I had sex with your mother. Seriously. I delivered her a pizza, and then I had sex with her. In your bed. Nice Star Wars sheets!"

The player looked horrified and backed away. Max turned to his team. "I think we should do this." This time, they nodded. "Huddle up!" The team gathered one last time. It was all or nothing. "Ring On It on three! Break!"

Max counted to three, and then signaled the sound guys, who usually only had to be responsible for playing a tinny recording of "The Star-Spangled Banner." They started the song Sheldon had given them, and the familiar beat of "Single Ladies" rang out over the stadium.

"All the single ladies, all the single ladies…"

The team swayed their hips with pride.

"Now put your hands up! Up in the club, just broke up…"

Their hands went up, their hands went down, their legs kicked. The other team was speechless.

"If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it, if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it…"

Everyone in the stands was dancing along, awestruck. Even some of the players on the other team were tapping their feet.

"Uh uh oh, uh uh oh oh…"

As the song finished, Danny, one of Max's best guys, made a run for the end zone. The second the music stopped, Max grabbed the ball and winged it. Danny caught it and lunged across the white line, getting a touchdown. The crowd went wild!

Paul and Kathy were jumping up and down and hugging. They each paused when their faces got too close, but Paul quickly turned away before anything happened, and Kathy followed suit.

Emily had missed that. She was too busy cheering herself hoarse. She didn't care about football, though. She was so proud of Sheldon for helping the team. And now it looked like he would really save the day. The game was over, but the score was tied.

It was all up to Sheldon's field goal.

"Single Ladies" came on once more at Max's signal, and Sheldon danced into the kick, like he'd practiced so many times. The ball seemed to soar through the air in slow motion, and when it finally reached the goalposts, it sailed right between them. The ref signaled a goal, and the crowd began cheering again, even louder this time. McKinley had won, seven to six. The team picked Sheldon up and carried him around the field on their shoulders. He looked for Emily in the stands, and found her bouncing up and down, grinning from ear to ear. He waved. She waved both hands back.

After the game, Mr. Shlepper waited for Sheldon outside the locker room. "Well, son, I'm impressed. Guess there's something to your song-and-dance obsession after all."

"Thanks, Dad." Sheldon pulled him into a hug. "Just so you know, I had fun out there tonight, but I think I'm going to stick with glee."

His dad nodded. "I understand. I can't wait to see you up on that stage. I love you, Sheldon."

"I love you, t—" Sheldon barely got the words out because Emily had tackled him from behind.

"I'm so proud of you!" she giggled. "Oh, hi, Mr. Shlepper."

Sheldon's father greeted her warmly. From the way Sheldon was looking at her, he was probably saying hello to his future daughter-in-law. And that was okay with him. Emily was a nice girl.

Sam and Noel came forward next. The guys exchanged high-fives. "Celebratory pizza?" Noel suggested.

Sheldon looked to his dad, who nodded. "Fine by me. Go have fun with your friends."

"Thanks." Sheldon grabbed Emily's hand and ran after Sam and Noel.

~L~

The next morning, Sally closed her locker, trying to focus on getting through the day. Ralph met up with her in the hall.

"Hey, Sal." He smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Here."

He handed her a ratty old strip of fabric, and Sally recoiled. But as soon as Ralph began explaining what it was, she was touched.

"This is my old baby blanket. My dad got it for me the day I was born. It's the only thing I have to remember him by."

"Thank you," Sally said softly.

"I used to cry without it. I took it everywhere with me, so it's a little dirty. But I want our baby to have it."

"Oh, Ralph."

"Wait, let me finish. I'm going to do everything I can to be a good father."

Sally hugged him, and she had barely pulled away when she heard Derek stop by her locker.

"Hey guys. How ya doing?" He directed his question to Sally. But the hurt in his eyes told her he wasn't sincere. So she didn't answer.

"Are you gaining weight? Gee, you should really cut back on the carbs."

Ralph glared at him. "Don't talk to my girlfriend that way."

"You're right." Derek took a step back. "I was out of line. See you guys around," He sauntered off.

Ralph watched him go, wondering what all that was about. He had told him about Sally, right? Why would Derek go and call her fat, if he knew she was pregnant? That was mean. And uncalled for.

~L~

"Hey guys," Paul said with excitement at glee rehearsal that afternoon. "Let's give a warm welcome to our three new members, Max Miller, Derek Venturi, and Sandra Barker."

The glee members looked around at each other, confused.

"Max is fresh off his 'Single Ladies'-inspired football win. Sandra is a friend of Max's; she's got some tap-dancing experience. And Derek had so much fun in Acafellas, he just had to join," Paul explained, and Derek rolled his eyes at him. Paul wasn't exactly sure why Derek had decided to join, but he had a feeling that it wasn't all about his love of music. He had a feeling that girls had something to do with it.

Sandra and Max said hello to everyone, but Derek took a seat without saying a word. Sam and Noel exchanged worried glances. This was gonna be interesting!

Casey glared daggers at the back of Derek's head from her spot on one of the risers. How could he?! She had avoided him this long, why couldn't it last?

Derek smirked. He knew Casey was staring at him. Good. He snuck a glance at her: she looked hot when she was riled up. But then he glanced at Sally and Ralph, a knot forming in his stomach. They looked back at him warily, each for different reasons. He wasn't sure what had propelled him to join glee, but he knew he needed a change in his life. He was going to be a father. No more bullying. No more slacking off. He had to start thinking about his future. And if he managed to annoy the heck out of Little Miss Perfect Casey in the process, so be it.

"Let's start with 'Tonight'," Paul suggested. "Kendra?"

Casey's face fell. She was back in glee, wasn't she? That solo was hers.

~L~

"I thought you had glee practice, my little multi-tasking star," Sandy said as he looked up from painting a prop at the community center.

"I quit. I'm yours exclusively." Casey could not handle being in glee now. Between the lost solo and Derek, glee was not worth it, as much as she loved it.

Casey asked the pianist to play "Maybe This Time" in B flat. She had to concentrate on being her best at this place now. She could not afford to look back.