Summary: "The truth is, Santana, you can dish it out but you can't take it. Okay, maybe you're right, maybe I am destined to play the title role in the Broadway Musical version of Willow, but the only job you're going to have is working on a pole!" –Rachel Berry
Or, Rachel Berry may have felt vindicated in finally cutting Santana down to size, but mom Shelby isn't very happy with her daughter's choice of words.
An Eye For An Eye
"Ah! Oohoo—Ouch! Ahahooww! MooOOM!" Rachel cried, sucking harsh breaths in through gritted teeth. She found herself face-down over her mother's lap, the woman's firm hand applying crisp swats all over her bare bottom. And there was nothing for Rachel to do but take it.
"Cut the dramatics, Rach—your bottom's barely even pink yet!" Shelby scolded, moving to her child's sit-spots. She peppered them with harder swats and watched her handprints bloom on olive-toned skin.
"But Mommy! It—Owwhow! It hurts!" Rachel whined, kicking her legs at the attention she was getting.
Shelby let out a bark of a laugh and shook her head. Her right hand wrapped more securely around her teenager's waist and she drew the girl in closer to her own body. She slapped her left down at a quicker pace. "Of course it does! What did you expect after your little outburst at practice?"
"I don't—Ow, ow—know! Not—Oohoo—THIS!"
"What do you mean, 'not this'?!" Shelby asked in disbelief. "Rachel, you told Santana the only thing she'll be good at is working as a stripper!"
"No, I—Mama, OW! I s-said that's the only job she could—OUCH—get! N–Not that she'll be good at it!"
"Rachel!" Shelby hissed, shaking her head in wonder at her child. Part of her wanted to laugh at the girl's sheer bravery—who else would argue semantics while ass-up over their parent's knee? "You are not helping, young lady!" Her hand further emphasized that point, making Rachel shriek and wriggle.
"Ow! Ow! Mom, s–stop! OWW!" The girl's tears had turned from crocodile to genuine now as her mother worked her way down untouched thighs, leaving a trail of stinging heat in her wake.
Shelby's hand fell once more, then stilled against rosy cheeks as she waited for Rachel to calm enough to listen.
Rachel took a shaky breath and swiped across her face, grimacing at the moisture now smearing the back of her hand. She gave a sad little sniffle and then twisted around in order to meet her mother's eyes. "Is it over n–now ?" she asked, chin quivering.
Shelby bit her lip—hard—to keep from folding at that sweet little face imploring her with big, wet eyes and wobbly, pouting lips. She shook her head.
"Mama—" New tears spilled from long lashes, streaking down flushed cheeks and piercing the mother's heart. Shelby pushed forward.
"What makes you think it was okay to say what you did to Santana today?" she asked as her hand worked to ease some of the sting she'd imparted.
"Santana's mean to everyone," Rachel said as if that explained everything. "And I wasn't the only one!"
"That may be true, but that doesn't give you the right to be mean back. You've only succeeded in stooping down to her level. And as for not being the only one, no, you weren't—but I'm not responsible for anyone else, Rachel. I'm responsible for you. And you crossed a line today, young lady."
"But it's not fair that I'm the only one in trouble! Lauren Zizes called her a bitch and no one batted an eye!"
"I know—I heard. And I told Mr. Schuester that he should call Lauren's mother and fill her in on her daughter's behavior. I can only deal with my daughter's behavior—"
"Mom—"
Shelby spoke right over Rachel's whining. "—and she is in trouble because her fathers have raised her to be a better person than that. And I am raising her to be a better person than that, too. I know your daddies don't tolerate such deliberately hurtful behavior and I certainly don't. So yes, you are in trouble, Rachel. You can be unhappy about that and whine and cry as much as you'd like, but it won't stop me from giving you every bit of this spanking you have earned yourself."
"So what, I'm just supposed to let Santana beat me down and walk all over me and I can't do anything to defend myself? That's bullsh—Ow! Ow, Mom, d-don't!" Rachel yelped as Shelby's hand clapped down smartly against tender skin. She threw her own behind her to block any further swats, but her mom had already stopped. She glared at the woman.
"That's not at all what I'm saying and you know it, Rachel," Shelby scolded, shooing her child's errant hand away. "And I'd watch the tone and language if I were you, young lady. You're not in any position to be speaking to me that way—" She patted the pink bottom meaningfully.
"Okaaay, I'm sorry," Rachel whined, squirming. "But Mama? Santana has said worse to me before. I'm just tired of it, that's all. I only wanted to stand up for myself for once."
Rachel heard her mother let out another long sigh—Shelby'd been doing that a lot this afternoon—and Rachel grimaced. Expecting another searing swat to land any second now, Rachel was instead taken aback. Shelby was helping her to her feet! She was then pulled down to sit on her mother's lap rather than over it. She stared with wide-eyed and blurry confusion.
Shelby brushed flyaway strands from Rachel's face, smoothing it back with the rest of her hair. She then used the pads of her thumbs to wipe tears from the girl's eyes as she stared deep into them. "I know Santana has said worse to you, love. And I understand being done with it all. You should stand up for yourself and I want you to always. What I don't want is for you to demean anyone. Your words were cruel and derogatory, Rach. It's not okay. And it's not standing up for yourself—you just did the very same thing Santana does to you and others. Did that make anything better? Did it take your hurt away? No—it just sent more pain out into the world. You are better than that, Rachel Barbra Berry, and I expect you to remember that."
Her mother's words hit harder than the flat of her palm ever could, and Rachel sucked in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry!" she cried, and then buried her face in her mother's shoulder. The hand that had built a fire on her rear end now rubbed up and down her back, filling her with a warmth that seeped down into her very soul.
Shelby sat and let her daughter cry her tears, rocking and humming gentle lullabies as the girl calmed. And when she did, Shelby sat her up and then stared into red-rimmed eyes. She offered a kiss to a sweaty forehead, once more brushing away hair and tears. Rachel's breath hitched with hiccups as she waited for her mother to speak.
"Do you understand now why I'm upset with your behavior today?" Shelby asked, her tone gentle. Sniffling and wiping at her eyes, Rachel nodded.
"I'm sorry, Mom," the girl said.
"And do you get why what you said was wrong? And why you shouldn't do it again?" Shelby went on. Again, Rachel nodded.
"Explain it," Shelby said.
"An eye for an eye only makes the whole world blind. I think Gandhi said that," Rachel answered.
Shelby couldn't help but laugh. "I'm not sure that was ever proven, but yes. Doing the same thing someone else has done to you doesn't fix your problems—it only creates more."
"Case in point," Rachel grumbled, shifting atop her mother's legs. A hand snuck back to try to rub, but Shelby set Rachel on her feet, effectively preventing that.
"Yes, case in point," Shelby echoed her child, standing the girl between her knees for the second time this afternoon. "Let's finish this, then," she said and began to tip Rachel forward once more.
"Wait! Mom—" Rachel cried, digging her feet into the carpet to keep her ground, "Do you—Do you have to spank me? I get it now and I'm sorry! I won't do anything like this again. I've learned my lesson!"
Shelby stared back into big, imploring eyes and let her arm go slack just enough to allow Rachel to stand up straight. "I can ground you instead?" she offered after a moment.
Rachel, whose heart had begun to swell with hope, deflated quickly. "What?! No! Mom!" she whined, her tone shrill. "Then I'll miss the Valentine's Day party at Breadstix! I don't want that!"
Shelby bit her lip to hide her smile. "Okay then," she answered.
"MooOOM!" Rachel screeched as she toppled back over her mother's lap, landing with a whoosh.
It took every scrap of strength and determination Shelby Corcoran had in her to keep her squealing child over her knees and finish the lesson she had started. Staring down at the pink bottom that had lost much of its color in the small interlude, part of Shelby hated the idea of painting it a fresh and glowing red. The bigger part of her knew that if she didn't, they'd only be prolonging the time it took before Rachel was right back where she started. No, it was better to teach this lesson right the first time. With any luck, it would be her last…