A/N: Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews! I did my best to respond to you all personally, excluding the people who have disabled private messaging (You're missing out! :-p). A couple of people I've talked to want me to include some Jesse/Rachel, but I'm not going to do that. Sorry. Since this is from Shelby's perspective, and she's part of the reason for any drama/relationship at all between the cute, over-achieving couple, I have a feeling she'd want to stay out of it. With that said, I present to you the next chapter: Let the mother/daughter relationship begin!

It was becoming another long Vocal Adrenaline practice after school that day. The kids seemed to have understood her point about theatricality, but they were still rough in portraying it in their dancing. She had no desire to work on their vocals if they were going to be accompanied by a sloppy routine. She stopped rehearsal about five different times to work individually with those who were having the most trouble with the movements, and it was nearly 45 minutes in before she acknowledged their improvements without following up with a critique.

"Yeah, looks better guys. Take five," she told them. And, because she had been told about it repeatedly for days and just didn't have the patience for it that particular afternoon, she added, "And ladies, I don't want to hear about chafing because you're being forced to wear metal underwear. Not my problem."

After sliding away the microphone, she picked up her pencil to write a few notes down on their progress. It was still rough, but they were getting there. She knew the kids would have the dance figured out in a couple of days and by then she would have the sheet music finalized for the vocal arrangements. By next week, this song would be perfected; another winning number to add to their ever-growing set list. Shelby hated the idea of not having options and vaguely remembered New Directions' near flop at their Sectionals when their songs were taken. That would never, ever happen to her.

"Mom?"

Shelby looked up at the unfamiliar name, her pulse increasing at the sound. Hearing the term wasn't odd for her, considering she worked with a bunch of children dependent on parents, but never in her life had she been called Mom, save for the few times her extremely flustered and stressed students called her that by mistake.

She wasn't sure if she was surprised to see Rachel approaching, not after how she had ended things the day before. If Rachel was anything like she was, which seemed more and more likely as Shelby came to know the girl, Rachel hadn't stopped thinking about their mess of a reunion since it occurred. If the teenager was here because she doubted whether her mother would actually call, then Shelby took offense. She was a woman of her word. She just needed some time to figure things out, including what her priorities and desires were and what they ought to be. If that was too much to ask for, then she had another reason to be mad at herself for causing further strain on Rachel.

Still, there would be cause for Principal Lancaster to be fussy if one of the members of a rival glee club kept showing up during her practices. That needed to be addressed.

"Honey, you gotta stop sneaking into these rehearsals."

"It's kind of important," Rachel replied timidly, and Shelby waited for elaboration.

She looked so young; maybe it was the way her hair was in flat pigtails or that out-of-place light blue cape she was wearing. It contradicted so greatly with the young woman she talked to in the auditorium yesterday who asked intelligent, levelheaded questions to the mother she had only just met and who had observed their similar intense postures and outlooks on life. Rachel began to carefully unbutton the cape she was wearing to ultimately reveal another, even more juvenile outfit underneath.

"Oh dear God."

What the hell was she wearing? Was that a costume? She really hoped so—she would love the girl no matter what, but if she had the desire to wear a bunch of deflated stuffed animals out of the house for no good reason then perhaps they did need to sit down and talk for a while. But she was going to give her the benefit of the doubt, assume it was an outfit for Glee Club, and question whether Will Schuester had any clue what he was doing. She fell back in her seat and continued to stare at the sight in front of her.

"My dads can't sew," Rachel explained, and as Shelby's eyes scanned the roughly attached dolls she felt some sympathy. She taught herself sewing from a young age because her mother never took the time to teach her. Most of her knowledge was from Home Ec. in high school, which many of the schools have since done away with in the budget cuts of the last few years. She knew that Carmel scrapped the class about eight years earlier (trading it instead for "culinary" and "interior design" classes meant to encourage careers in viable fields), and she wouldn't be surprised if Rachel's school had done the same. "I really need a mom right now. Do you think you can help?"

Her quiet question echoed in Shelby's head like bells in a church. She spent Rachel's entire life imagining the moment when she would be able to step up to the plate and be a mom to her, but she would have to admit it never played out in her head like this. At least, never in her life could she have cooked up that dress Rachel was wearing in her mind, but that was the least of her problems.

She never decided what the best course of action would be. She longed to have Rachel so badly, to support her and teach her everything she knew, but that was the trouble. She had been so preoccupied with her own desires that she hardly considered what was best for Rachel. It was vital that whatever decision she made in this moment was good for both of them. Or, at the very least, just for her daughter. One thing was absolutely certain, however, Shelby determined upon continued examination of Rachel's attire: her daughter desperately needed help. It simply worked out that she really wanted, and could, give it.

"I really can't cancel practice again," Shelby began carefully. She felt the terrible pang of sadness when Rachel's face fell further, and scrambled to clarify her point. "But you can wait in my office until we're finished."

When a smile spread across the girl's face, Shelby knew that the emotion she was feeling now was a thousand times better than the one that just fled her gut. It was worth it to do anything to make Rachel happy. Is this how parents normally felt?

"Okay," Rachel said cheerfully, and Shelby's lips turned up slightly to match her smile.

The older woman fished out her keys and held out the one for her office. "Head out the west door and make a left. My office is down the hall on the right; you can't miss it. I'll be there as soon as we finish up."

"Thank you," Rachel said, and when she reached forward to take the keys Shelby felt her fingers brush against her hand. She shuddered, knowing it was the first time they had ever touched. She hoped Rachel didn't notice her reaction.

Just as the teen was walking past her to leave the auditorium, her Glee kids began filtering back on stage. Shelby quickly turned in her chair and hissed at her daughter, "Button up your coat!" to which Rachel grinned over her shoulder, completely unabashed, and pulled her cape shut before walking out.

Shelby chuckled and knew she was becoming increasingly fond of the girl each time she saw her. She faced the stage again and saw all of her kids were just staring at her, perhaps confused at her smile after seeing her glower all day. They hadn't even bothered to pull the lace back over their faces so she wouldn't see them gaping. She wiped the look from her features and replaced it with a more expected firm one.

"What are you just standing there for?" Shelby barked into the microphone. Some of the students looked at each other before they rushed to take their places while others wasted no time. She smirked and waved her pencil in their direction. "That's more like it! Okay guys, start it from the top. Five, six, seven, eight!"