A/N: Maybe it's because I've spent the last three weeks in Shelby's head, but I wonder if I'm the only person who isn't harshly judging her for her treatment of Rachel. I guess maybe I'm preaching to the choir right now though. Also, I just want to say I totally called it about her adopting Beth! The moment I finished watching Theatricality I ran up to my sister's room, told her my theory and said to her, "Just wait, I'm going to be right!" Well, my sister's already heard it a bunch and no one else I know cares, so I hope you don't mind if I say really quickly, "I WAS SO RIGHT!" God, this is a great feeling. Now, back to the story. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter; I think it was one of the most important because it looked a little deeper at Shelby, and this chapter does as well to a lesser degree. If you ever feel it is necessary, you may send her virtual hugs via the review link at the bottom of this page. I also like virtual hugs. Just sayin'.

One might never know it by looking at Shelby Corcoran, but she never made her bed. It was a habit she had acquired as soon as she started living on her own. Whenever she washed the linens or knew someone was visiting, sure, she would make it look presentable, but otherwise she left it the way she climbed out of it every morning. Needless to say, she was a bit self-conscious when Rachel followed her into her bedroom.

"I'm sorry it's a mess, I didn't expect anyone over," she said, kicking the pajamas left on her floor that morning in the direction of her hamper.

"No, it's okay. It's more real this way," Rachel said. She fingered with some of Shelby's jewelry in the box on the vanity while the latter fished out some workout clothes for her to wear.

"Whatever I have might be a little long on you, but I'm sure they'll fit…" Shelby muttered, mostly to herself, as she pushed things aside in a dresser drawer. She found an old pair of draw-string pants and a t-shirt and was about to hand them to Rachel when she saw the girl closely inspecting a heart-shaped pendant.

"Have you ever been in love?" Rachel asked wistfully, her sad eyes focused on the tiny, glittering diamonds set into the gold heart.

She didn't answer immediately. It was a surprising question; though this was one of the many topics that she had assumed took place between a mother and a daughter, she had given up on having any more expectations in view of how everything else had gone so far. After a couple of beats Rachel turned her attention to Shelby's unreadable face, where it remained focused, awaiting a response.

"Once," she finally said, straightforward as usual. She had no reason to lie about it. "Are you? Is that why you're asking?" If so, she was going to have to sit down and have a talk with Jesse.

"I don't know," Rachel replied truthfully, putting the necklace back in the box. "How would I know for sure? What is it like to really be in love, not to just feel attraction or infatuation?"

"It is miserable." Shelby watched Rachel's brow furrow in uncertainty and noticed it crinkled exactly how her own did. She frowned as she continued. "It's agonizing and staggering and wonderful all at once. It's when you feel so strongly for someone that without them life ceases to exist and when you're around them your heart goes a mile a minute. No one in the world can make you angrier or happier than that one person."

"Who was he?" Rachel asked carefully, and over her small form Shelby could see the contents of her open jewelry case and the glint of an engagement ring. She sighed forlornly, having no desire to disclose this part of her past but willing to do so in order to connect with her daughter.

"Try these on," Shelby told her first, handing her the articles of clothing that had been folded over her arm. She turned around, allowing Rachel to change out of what she imagined was an uncomfortable outfit and giving herself a chance to prepare a response. It was easier to share her deep secrets when she didn't have to look anyone in the eye.

"His name was Scott," she said, picking at the sleeve of her coat. She may as well remove it altogether, she decided, and pulled it off before tossing it aimlessly into her walk-in closet and kicking her heels in after it. "We had been together for nearly four years. I had met him through a mutual friend and we hit it off right away. He loved music and he loved me."

"Why did it end?"

"Sometimes love isn't enough," Shelby said, grimacing in remembrance. "We were at different places in our lives and we knew it. By the end we stayed together because we simply couldn't leave. It was extremely unhealthy."

What Shelby was neglecting to mention was that Scott wanted children and she, of course, couldn't have them. They had been together through her health crises, and he stayed by her side despite knowing the consequences of necessary treatments and surgery. For a time Shelby believed that they would persevere, but in the end the fact that she couldn't have his kids was a deal-breaker for him. The day that he informed her he had found someone else to marry was the day she kicked him out and never looked back.

She had a few guys come and go in the couple years after that but it was never serious. Then, when she and Vocal Adrenaline started to figure things out, she chose to focus on that rather than more unfulfilling romantic relationships. In the last three years, she satisfied her lust by making out with gay men and going home from time to time with the straight ones she would encounter. It was pretty pathetic. Not the making out – the gay guys tended to know what they were doing – but rather her worthless personal life.

She assumed she had given Rachel enough time to change, and when she turned around she found herself gaping at the young lady in front of her. Her developed form was dressed in Shelby's well-worn clothing, she had pulled out her hair bands and was running her fingers through the dark tresses that were so similar to her mother's, and when the girl's dark eyes met her own, the older woman was completely dumbfounded: Rachel really did look just like her.

She wasn't feeling elation or pride at this, however, at least not as much as she would have anticipated. Now that Rachel was wearing regular clothes and her dark waves weren't pulled back into a childish hairstyle, Shelby was back to thinking about how mature the girl seemed. She reminded Shelby of herself, as she was now; she wasn't seeing the child she had always wanted. It was a harsh reminder that she was years too late to be a mother to Rachel.

"Is it okay that I ask you these things?" Rachel asked hesitantly, her arms wrapping around herself self-consciously in reaction to Shelby's inscrutable gaze. "There's some stuff that I just don't feel comfortable asking my dads about."

Shelby was scared of this. She yearned for it so much, yet she had no idea how to handle it. Longing and constant rumination were no match for experience for situations like this, of which she had none.

She had an aversion to opening up unless she felt it was necessary, but when prompted she would never lie. She had no regrets in her life, other than the shamefully large one that was right in front of her: the disconnection between herself and her daughter. Unfortunately for them both, it was in that regret that she had the most trouble expressing herself…excluding the occasions when she yielded to too much wine.

Maybe it was too late for them to have their slow-motion moment. Maybe their relationship wouldn't even work out. But if she was going to spend this one night with her daughter, she wasn't going to allow herself any more regrets. Shelby's throat constricted, and, unable to articulate an answer, she nodded.

Rachel's mouth curved into a grateful smile, and Shelby's eyes glinted down at her. She angled her head towards the bedroom door and said, "Come on. I'll let you look at the Gaga outfit I have in mind while I pull out the material and my sewing machine."

As they walked down the hallway together towards Shelby's study, she was careful not to touch Rachel. Her continual restraint wasn't so much of a preference as it was a developed tendency from years of solitude; aside from that, she did not know the girl well enough nor merit the right to touch her even affectionately. But she cared so much, and though it was so hard to show that, she was going to try.

"Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat if you want," she asked. The more time she wasted the less likely they'd be able to finish the costume, but frankly she didn't care. This mattered so much more. She wanted to try and take care of her daughter.

"Wow, I have a parent who can cook," Rachel said with astonishment, and Shelby smiled lightly. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm fine."

"If you're sure…"

"Yes. I'm a bit of a picky eater anyway. I'm a vegan."

"You're what? Well, that's not genetic…"

She may have been kidding, but Shelby was perturbed. Rachel's dads hadn't been vegetarians, let alone vegans when Shelby knew them 16 years ago and unless they made the big leap sometime in Rachel's childhood, she made the decision herself to change to this lifestyle. And veganism was a big choice that an adult makes, not a child.

What had Shelby been doing in her life when this occurred? Had she been too busy thinking about winning trophies for Vocal Adrenaline and the shelves in her study? What about when Rachel reached the age when it probably wouldn't have been appropriate for one of her parents to sing her to sleep anymore? It was something Shelby had always dreamed of doing: tucking her daughter in to bed and singing her a sweet lullaby. She had probably been sitting by herself in her home, watching The Wizard of Oz with the remote in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other. And when her daughter began menstruating for the first time and thinking about all of the overwhelming changes her body was making, was Shelby sitting at a bar with an ordinary iced tea, craving alcohol and wallowing in self-pity?

There was little left for her to do. Apparently, she could help with things that required domestic skills that her dads obviously did not possess, and once in a while she could answer questions about sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll that Rachel was too apprehensive to ask her sensitive fathers. But beyond that, what could she give to her little girl?

A distraction from her depressing thoughts came in the form of Rachel's true personality beginning to show through. When Rachel stepped into Shelby's study for the first time and saw the countless awards, plaques and trophies decorating the room, she was not shocked, but rather stated bluntly that she expected nothing less of the woman who was her mother. She wasn't joking. It was unfortunate for Shelby's weary conscience that she loved her girl even more because of this.