Disclaimer: Don't own the show nor am I affiliated with it in any fashion, unfortunately.
Chapter One
Sue Sylvester was at the top of her game. Founder and controlling partner of the winningest, most aggressive and ruthless (she prided herself on the ruthless) law firm in Dallas, Texas, she approached all things as a contest to be won. Competition made her blood rush; it was the reason she woke up before dawn, donned one of many dark, immaculately-tailored power suits, and ran her firm with an iron fist. Just the name Sylvester,Bieste,andSchuester struck fear and awe in the hearts of seasoned lawyers and rookies alike. Life was an elaborate game filled with winners and losers, and Sue Sylvester was a winner. She did not lose. Ever.
On a bright, Monday morning, Sue sat behind a large dark mahogany desk, eyeglasses sitting low on her nose and a draw sheet in one hand. She reviewed the paper intently, cursing under her breath as she followed the brackets. She punched the intercom button on her phone. "Becky! Get Schuester and Bieste in here ASAP!"
"Right away, Ms Sylvester!"
The imposing blonde picked up another sheet with a list of all the lawyers and interns working for her firm. She threw her glasses on the desk in disgust. Nothing but overweight old men, fragile, uncoordinated nerds, women much too concerned about their manicures and overly pampered skin, and one guy in a wheelchair.
There was a timid knock on her office door.
"Come!" she called out briskly, leaning back in her large wingback chair and propping her legs up on the edge of her desk.
Shannon Bieste and Will Schuester entered the office quietly and took seats across the imposing figure. Neither spoke, overly familiar with how Sue ran things. Although their names graced the office walls, albeit under and in lettering two-sizes smaller than "Sylvester," the two senior partners held no illusions about who was in charge.
After a long, increasingly uncomfortable silence—Sue never missed an opportunity to exert her power over the pair—the commanding blonde finally spoke. "What are we doing about this?" she asked coldly, flinging the draw sheet at the two lawyers.
Will picked it up and looked it over with Bieste leaning in at his side. He sighed when he finally figured out why they were summoned. The annual, Dallas Law Association softball tournament was upcoming and he was not looking forward to the added stress she was about to place on the firm.
"Sue," Will started cautiously, "we're in the middle of a really big class action lawsuit. We really don't have the time to focus on this kind of thing now. Let's just go out there and have fun. It's about team-building anyway."
"Nonsense," she scoffed. She kicked her legs off the desk, stood and leaned forward, her palms flat against the polished wood. "See, this is the difference between you and me, William," she said slowly. "Where you see distraction, I see opportunity. Now please, remind me, what place did we come in last year?"
"It was a very respectable third. We made it to the playoff games at least," he responded.
"I think for the amount of practice we had, that was pretty darn good," Shannon offered.
"Third!" Sue admonished, continuing to glare at the two partners. "The number one law firm in the state, the state, and we came in third! How does that look to potential clients? Or potential new recruits? I want winners!"
"Sue, I really don't think-" Will was cut off abruptly.
"Call an emergency meeting in the large conference room. I want every associate, intern, paralegal, barista, and maintenance man in there in five." She sat back down and picked up another stacks of papers. When neither Bieste nor Schuester moved, she looked up pointedly. "You're dismissed."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Sylvester, Bieste, and Schuester was a mid-size law firm for Dallas, employing about 20 lawyers at any given time. Adding in all of the additional workers, however, their largest conference room was so overfilled that many of their employees were left standing shoulder-to-shoulder around the edges of the room. Junior associates Quinn Fabray, Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones, Artie Abrams, and Brittany Pierce were high-level enough to earn places around the immense table across from Bieste, Schuester and the rest of the upper-ranking attorneys.
Sue entered a full ten minutes after she told the team to arrive, taking the oversized chair at the head of the table and sizing up exactly what she had to work with. She laced her fingers together and leaned forward on her elbows.
"I have just received some distressing news," she began seriously. "I have been reviewing payroll and it seems this firm only employs geriatrics, fatties, sissies, and the less than able-bodied." She cocked her head at Artie who swallowed visibly.
"Sue!" Will cut in.
"Not now, William. And if you're wondering, I still haven't decided what category you fill at the moment. I'd like to call your attention to the screen." Suddenly the lights dimmed and a graphic of the tournament brackets appeared on the far wall. There was a collective groan before Sue's glare silenced the room.
"I need not remind you of the embarrassment of last year's showing. I do not intend to lose again." She picked up a laser pointer and used the red dot to circle their first opponent: Ben Israel, Tanaka, and Ryerson. "As you can see, we open with what should be a cakewalk, but looking around the room now," she gestured broadly with her hands, "I'm not so sure."
After a pointed pause that made everyone fidget and shuffle around anxiously, she continued, "but our greatest threats come in the fourth and fifth rounds, right before the playoffs." She drew red trails under the names Figgins and Associates, and Corcoran and St. James. "I don't need to remind all of you what Corcoran did to us last year," she growled. Not only had they beat them in the first playoff game; they also stole (at least in Sylvester's mind) a large client that Sue had been personally pursuing. She still seethed at the losses, her anger fueling her drive to win the tournament this year.
"Lights," she called out to Becky who flipped a switch that illuminated the room once again. "So, I'm opening the floor to ideas. I expect us to emerge victorious. There is no second place. There is no losing. So what's our plan?"
"We could increase practices. Make them mandatory," Bieste offered. There was another groan at her suggestion.
"I like it. Strict, disciplined practices daily. What else?" Sue said quickly, unmoved by the mumbles of disapproval. After a lengthy silence, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and daring her employees to meet her chilling stare. When she spoke again, her voice was low and menacing. "I cannot believe the collective brain power of the most successful law firm in Texas cannot come up with a single strategy to win a simple softball tournament." She shook her head. "I'm beginning to think I've been overpaying for your services."
"We could hire someone," Artie interjected hesitantly. "Someone who's really good, and maybe he could help carry the team."
Sue picked up her eyeglasses and chewed on the end. "A ringer," she said slowly, pulling the glasses from her lips and pointing it towards Artie. "Fantastic idea, Wheels."
"It's Artie-"
"We need new blood. Someone who can handle themselves on the field and maybe whip this sorry mass of flab into shape." There was a glint in Sue's eyes that made everyone in the room shudder. She rubbed her chin slowly.
"Um," Will began, "I don't think that's appropriate, Sue. It's certainly not in line with the spirit of the game, and I'm sure it's against the rules."
"Not necessarily," Quinn piped up. "As long as we employed them in the office somehow, it should adhere to all the eligibility requirements."
"Outstanding, Fabray. Now, all we have to do is find this ringer. Suggestions!" she demanded.
Kurt raised his hand.
"Porcelain, go!" Sue directed.
"We could stake out ballparks or colleges. Maybe find some college athlete that's willing to make a few extra bucks."
"This is not a dating opportunity. The ringer can't be too obvious. Next!"
From the back of the room, Rachel Berry's hand shot up. "Barbra, go!"
"We could put an ad on Craigslist. I have it on good authority that the internet abounds with any number of odd or unsavory requests, so ours would probably not raise any suspicions, and in this current economic climate I am sure there is an overabundance of potential athletic talent out there just waiting to be snapped up and thrust into the exciting, and cutthroat world of-"
"Okay, okay, we get the idea." Sue waved her hand around dismissively. "Your naiveté and lung capacity is astounding. But trolling the depths of the internet is not something this firm will engage in. We are not pinning our victory on some meth-brewing, basement-dwelling, out of work escort. Again, this is not a dating opportunity. Next!"
Quinn sighed. She had a desk piled high with case files and past due paperwork waiting for her and all of this scheming was a supreme waste of time. She really didn't want to get involved and she really, really didn't want to involve her friend, but she needed this meeting to end to save her sanity. Reluctantly, she spoke up. "I know someone."
Sue raised an eyebrow at her, implicitly encouraging her to continue.
Quinn sighed heavily. "She's an overall great athlete and I'm sure she'd be a gold star softball player." She smirked at her own inside joke.
"She? A woman." Sue tapped her lips with her index finger. "Genius, Fabray! There's nothing better than using the inherent sexism that plagues the industry to our advantage. No one would think that a ringer would be female. She wouldn't happen to be East German would she?" Sue turned steely eyes to Quinn.
Mercedes looked down the table at Sue, confused. "Hasn't it just been Germany since like 1988?"
"That was nothing but a great vandalism perpetrated by a bunch of hippie hooligans and miscreants. The falling of that wall was a global travesty," Sue replied, shaking her head.
"Well, she's not any kind of German," Quinn responded. "She's Hispanic, if it matters."
"A fiery Latina, huh?" Sue bit the end of her glasses once again. "Promising. Okay," she slapped her hands on the table, causing the room to jump back startled. "Fabray, get on the phone now. I want to meet this ringer today." Quinn stood and exited the conference room. Sue turned her eyes to the group. "I want each of you to get a personal profile to Becky by the end of the day. I want height, weight, body fat percentages, former or current experience with individual or team sports—disco does not count, Porcelain—and a copy of your latest vision exam. Softball boot camp starts tomorrow with a physical fitness test. Junior and senior associates stay put," Sue continued. "The rest of you get out of my face, and try not to eat anything for the rest of the day."
When Quinn returned, only a dozen people remained. She took her seat and looked up to see everyone staring at her expectedly. She sighed. "I couldn't reach her, but I got her mom. She said she was out playing basketball but should be reachable in an hour or so." She shrugged.
"Outstanding. Where's the game?" Sue inquired.
"Probably at the public courts on Harrington and 8th."
"Well what are we waiting for? Saddle up people!"
"Wait, what? We're going down to the basketball courts?" Quinn asked.
"Of course! This is the perfect opportunity to assess her athleticism and see if she's worth our time. Will, Bieste, you're with me." Sue stood and walked out without another word.
Quinn blew out an exasperated breath. "Come on, Britt. We better get out there." She pulled the tall woman's arm and tugged her out of the conference room with her.
"Why do I have to go?" Brittany whined. "Quinn, I've got a big case I need to get back to and-." At the other woman's hazel glare, the tall blonde's shoulders slumped and she resigned herself to being dragged out on this little reconnaissance mission.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
After a quick drive to the local park, Quinn, Brittany, Sue, Will, and Shannon stepped out of their vehicles and walked down a short hill towards the basketball courts. There were two courts, each enclosed by a high fence, but only one was in use at the time. The group stood next to a small set of bleachers just outside the cage, eager to catch sight of their potential ringer.
She was actually easy to spot. She was the shortest person on the court and the only woman. Brittany was actually a little frightened for her at first as all of the men towered over the small woman. It looked to be an intense game of three on three. Brittany's breath caught suddenly as the tiny brunette bumped a giant of a man on the hip and stole the ball, streaking down court before leaping up into a perfectly executed layup. Damn.
"You may have just earned yourself a raise, Fabray," Sue informed the small blonde.
All eyes were on the young woman on the court who turned towards her teammates and thumped her chest with a fist before throwing a dazzling, pearly white smile at the guys jogging up to her. Brittany swore her heart stopped beating at the sight.
The petite basketballer was beautiful, her dark bronze skin glistening with sweat under the blazing sun. She had long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail with a blue handkerchief tied tightly around her head, keeping the long strands from blinding her as she moved. She wore a black sports bra and long mesh shorts that fell below her knees. All of her teammates were bare-chested and Brittany assumed she must have fallen into the skins side of a shirts and skins game. The girl's stomach muscles twisted and tensed as she jockeyed with one of the opposing players, pushing a bare shoulder into his chest. For the first time ever, Brittany actually found herself looking forward to the upcoming softball tournament.
After only about another ten minutes the game was over and the players bumped chests and clasped hands jovially. Their potential ringer chugged a bottle of Gatorade, and grabbed a towel from her duffel bag. She pulled on a tight tank top before slinging the bag over her shoulder. The brunette elbowed a muscular, mohawked boy in the chest, cocking her head towards a group of girls sitting in the grass. The two friends made their way over to the group and the brunette plopped down next to a cute blonde in a pretty pink sundress. The sweaty basketballer whispered something into the girl's ear and she giggled, shoving the other woman playfully on the shoulder. The two women stood and the brunette grabbed the girl's hand, leading her up the hill to the parking lot, leaving Mohawk and two other girls lounging in the grass.
"Yo, Lopez!" Quinn bellowed, startling Brittany who had become entranced by the scene.
The brunette turned at her name. When the girl met Quinn's eyes, Brittany was blinded by her full smile once again. The dark-haired woman held up a finger to her companion, gesturing her to stay put before jogging over to their group.
"Quinny!" she cried out, picking the attorney up in her strong arms and spinning her around.
"Ugh, Lopez, you're all sweaty!" Quinn exclaimed, pushing against the other woman's shoulders.
The brunette set the other girl on her feet, making sure to rub her wet face against Quinn's.
"Gross! You suck!"
"Serves you right for being such a stranger, Fabray," her broad grin taking the sting out of her words. "God, it's been too long! How'd you find me here anyway?"
"I called your mom. The number I had for you was no longer in service."
"Yea," the athlete said bashfully. "Had to change a few numbers for, you know, personal reasons." Even through her dark complexion, Brittany could make out a faint blush to the girl's cheeks. She was really cute.
Quinn scoffed. "Why do I think it has something to do with you being unable to keep it in your pants, Lopez?"
The other girl just shrugged and grinned. "So last I heard you were picked up by some big time law firm, raking in the big bucks."
It was Quinn's turn to blush. "Yea, about that, that's actually why we're here," she gestured back to the group of suits behind her.
The young basketball player finally took in the people surrounding Quinn. She scanned their professional attire and swallowed hard.
"Oh shit, I'm not getting sued am I? I swear to God Quinn, I didn't know she was married! She came on to me and I swear I ended it as soon as I found out. Fuck!" she said in a rush.
"What? No, no, you're not getting sued. Calm down." Quinn took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. "These are my colleagues and we actually have a proposition for you, you got a minute?"
"Um," the brunette looked over her shoulder to the blonde she left behind. "I kinda got my hands full right now. Or at least I hope to anyway," she winked at Quinn. "Can we get together at like," she thought for a second, "six?"
"That's four hours from now!" Quinn replied, exasperated. "You can't possibly need four hours to-." She looked up into a saucy grin and glittering brown eyes. "Never mind. I don't want to know. Six, then?"
"Great! Let's meet at Joe Jack's."
"Alright," the attorney sighed in defeat. "Don't be late."
"See you then, Quinny!" she pulled the attorney into another damp embrace before taking off towards the girl in the sundress, picking her up and kissing her hard on the lips. When she set the girl down, Brittany could see the pink heat on the blonde's cheeks and the girl's heavy breathing. She felt an unfamiliar flutter in the pit of her stomach.
"Guess we got a date at six," Quinn said, turning back to the group with a shrug.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Back in Quinn's BMW X3, Brittany fiddled with her fingers in her lap. She was nervous and she didn't quite know why. She turned in her seat to look at Quinn. "So that's your friend?" she asked as nonchalantly as she could.
"Yea, that was Santana."
Santana. Brittany rolled the name around in her head. Santana. She nodded to herself. She liked it. It fit the beautiful brunette. "So, how do you know her?" Brittany turned to look out the window, trying to appear uninterested.
Quinn smiled, getting temporarily lost in her memories. "Our families are actually really close and we basically grew up together. We went to the same schools until Santana dropped out when she was 14."
That caught Brittany's attention. "She dropped out? Why?"
Quinn's grip on the wheel tightened. "Well, Santana's really smart, but school stuff just didn't keep her interest. She gets bored easily and a bored Santana is trouble." Quinn turned to the tall blonde and smiled. Her smile faltered though when she started speaking once again. "Then she started getting into fights every day, like real, bloody brawls, and I guess her mom got sick of her being pulled out of classes and getting suspended all the time."
Brittany's brow furrowed. She replayed the image of the smiling, carefree-seeming woman in her head. "She doesn't seem like much of a fighter. What were the fights about?"
Quinn gave a quick chuckle. "You don't know Santana. She can be really hot-headed and she doesn't back down for anything. Most of what she got into was because of the gay thing though. Honestly, I don't think it would've been half as bad if she would've just stayed away from the jocks' girlfriends. But Santana never could say no to a pretty face."
Brittany mulled over the information she was receiving. She didn't quite know why, but the striking brunette piqued her curiosity. There was just something about her that drew the blonde in. She jumped a bit when Quinn continued speaking, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"So when she was 14, her mom let her leave school and spend her days with her uncle. He was a roughneck with one of the bigger oil rigs in Dallas. She took to it real quick and has been working on a rig ever since."
"She's a roughneck?" Brittany exclaimed, surprise evident in her voice and wide eyes. Sure, Santana looked strong and well-muscled, but those rigs were so big. Brittany had only ever seen one from a distance, its scaffolding and large metal pipes towering up into the sky. She couldn't imagine what the tiny woman would be doing on one of those dirty, metal beasts out in the middle of the Texas desert. Although, the more she thought about it, the more she tried to envision the beautiful girl covered in grease and sweat, and working with heavy machinery, the faster her heart raced and the hotter her cheeks burned.
"Britt, are you okay?" Quinn asked, concerned. When she glanced over at the tall blonde and she saw bright red patches creeping up the other girl's neck and cheeks.
Brittany ducked her head, embarrassed by her unexpected thoughts. She cleared her throat nervously. "Yea, I'm fine. Just too much sun, I guess."
Quinn reached over and adjusted the AC for her.
"So do you think she'll agree to play for us?" Brittany asked once she composed herself again.
"Heh, San's super competitive and she loves sports, so I think she'll do it if she can make it work with her schedule. Her work's not exactly nine to five, Monday through Friday."
Brittany nodded. "Well, I hope she does. Lord knows we could use it. Last year was awful and now that we don't have Keith and Ben, I think we're pretty much sunk. I do not want to face Sue if we lose again."
"You're telling me," Quinn agreed, trembling a bit at the thought of an enraged Sue Sylvester.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Joe Jack's was a typical Texas honky-tonk bar that catered to the roughnecks and other blue collar workers who lived and worked nearby. It was loud, divey, and cheap; everything the hardworking laborers were looking for after a long, arduous day. The bar was actually quite large with a long, wooden bar in the back and several sets of wobbly tables arranged around the floor. Up to the left there was another raised area with more seating, two pool tables, and a set of dart boards hanging on the wall.
When the gang from Sylvester, Bieste, and Schuester arrived, the place was jumping, a loud, country tune blaring from the jukebox and boisterous voices filling the space. Kurt and Mercedes had decided to join the original group who had watched the basketball game, and they had to pull a couple of tables together to make room for everyone.
Sue tapped her fingers impatiently on the scuffed wood surface of their table. "I do not like to be kept waiting, Fabray."
Quinn glanced at her watch. "It's not even six yet." At Sue's glare, she assured her, "she'll be here."
Just as Sue was readying to say something about punctuality and her body clock being perfectly adjusted to Greenwich Mean Time, the roughneck entered and Quinn waved her over.
Santana had changed into a pair of tight, skinny jeans that hung low on her hips. She wore a blue, checkered shirt that she tied off at the waist, exposing well-toned abs that rippled as she moved towards the group. She cast a stunning smile at them and Brittany had to look away, sudden heat making her skin flush. What's wrong with me?
"Hey guys! Been waiting long?" Santana asked as she took a seat next to Quinn, ruffling the small blonde's hair playfully.
Quinn batted her hands away and rolled her eyes. "Just sit, Lopez. Let me introduce everyone."
Santana leaned back in her chair. She scanned the group carefully. They were certainly an intimidating bunch in their dark suits and perfectly coiffed hair. Quinn introduced Sue and the founding partners first, each nodding towards Santana at their name. When her friend gestured to the tall, long-haired blonde next to her, the corner of Santana's lips raised into a sexy half grin. Hot. She met brilliant blue eyes and lingered. As if from a distance, she heard the name "Brittany" uttered and filed the information away for later.
Quinn had moved on to introduce Kurt and Mercedes but the roughneck had tuned her out.
The woman beside Quinn was gorgeous. Her long blonde hair fell in soft waves around her face, settling delicately on her shoulders. Santana took in the adorably freckled nose, the slightly pouty lips, and the impossibly long neck that was turning increasingly red under her gaze. Like her peers, the blonde was dressed smartly in a dark blue blazer, modest skirt, and buttoned down white blouse. The shirt was open at the neck and Santana traced the long column down to the edge of the blouse, catching the other girl swallowing hard. When she moved up to the woman's eyes once again, Santana turned on her most charming smile and gave her a quick wink.
Brittany knew she was blushing profusely, but she kept up her polite smile until Santana's eyes left hers to move on to the rest of the table. Brittany exhaled slowly, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.
"So what's this all about?" Santana started. "If I'm not getting sued, which I'm totally happy about by the way, why are y'all here?" She waved a scantily clad waitress over. "Mind if I grab a beer?" she asked, not waiting for a response. The waitress was at her side in an instant and Santana threw an around the buxom girl's waist.
"The usual, Santana?" she asked with a flirty smile.
"That would be perfect, beautiful," Santana replied, grinning up at the girl and patting her playfully on the butt as she moved on to take orders from the rest of the table.
When the waitress made it to Sue, the menacing attorney began grilling the poor girl about German lagers and Belgium wheats, and admonishing the "domestic swill" they had on tap. Bieste and Schuester tried to step in and corral Sue before the young woman burst into tears.
Quinn shook her head at the scene and decided to take control of the conversation and just cut to the chase.
"Look, Santana," she started. "We have kind of an unusual proposal for you. See every year law firms from all over Dallas compete in this big softball tournament. It's basically for bragging rights and, well, we didn't do so great last year. Sue," the two friends raised their eyes up just in time to see Sue storm off after the fleeing barmaid with Will and Shannon fast on her heels. Quinn shook her head. "Sue's got it in her head that in order to be the best firm in Dallas we have to be the best in all things. Softball included. Unfortunately, we're not a very athletic bunch."
"Preach, girl," Kurt interjected.
"And we need some help." Quinn paused, looking up into confused brown eyes. "We want you to join our team and maybe help out during practices so we can win the tournament." She sighed. It sounded ridiculous and unless you knew Sue Sylvester it probably seemed like a completely insane idea.
"You want me to play softball with you?" Santana asked slowly, not completely understanding what was happening.
"I know how it sounds." Quinn took a quick look around to see the founding partners now engaged in some kind of dispute with the bartender. "Look, Sue's kind of a nut. I mean she's brilliant and an amazing lawyer but she's kind of a loose cannon when it comes to competitions. We need to win this thing and we need you to do that."
"Please," Brittany said, reaching across Quinn to grab Santana's arm. "We're really awful."
Santana looked up into bright, sapphire eyes, her forearm tingling under the heat of Brittany's hand.
"Like totally inept," Mercedes jumped in.
"Like newborn foals learning to walk in a gravel quarry." Everyone turned confused eyes on Kurt. "What?" he shrugged.
Brittany remained leaning forward awkwardly, eyes caught in Santana's gaze, her hand on the soft, smooth skin of the roughneck. She didn't remember making a conscious decision to do so, but she found her fingers rubbing the girl's arm gently.
Santana's skin shivered under the contact, tiny goose bumps appearing in the wake of Brittany's fingertips. The roughneck shook her head, finally breaking the other girl's stare. "Wait, is this like legal and stuff?"
Quinn leaned forward, forcing Brittany to release the Santana's arm reluctantly. "There's no like law against it. It's not necessarily something the tournament allows and we certainly can't tell anyone you're a hired gun, so to speak, but you won't get in trouble or anything. You will have to become part of the payroll, though. So we'd need to hire you as a temporary worker and you'd have to put in a couple hours a week at the office."
Kurt jumped in to clarify. "Artie worked out that you'd have to put in at least ten hours a week. But we'd pay you, of course."
"Wait," Santana turned to Quinn. "Your law firm is like really going to hire me? Quinn," she leaned in to her friend and lowered her voice, "you know I don't really have the…education for something like that, right?" Santana was a proud person, and she was especially proud of all she had achieved at 25. But surrounded by this group of incredibly accomplished professionals, she couldn't help feeling a little self-conscious and a little bit embarrassed about her lack of formal education.
But Quinn dismissed the thought quickly. "It's not like that. You'd basically be doing gopher work—getting coffee, setting up conference rooms, maybe a little light filing. It's not glamorous, but we'd pay you twenty bucks an hour for it."
"Holy shit, no way!" Santana exclaimed, her eyes wide at the thought of raking in so much for doing so little.
Quinn smiled at her friend. "So is that a yes?" she asked hopefully.
Santana leaned back and rubbed her chin. "I assume these games are on the weekends?"
"Saturdays," Quinn confirmed.
"And I could come in whenever to put in the ten hours?"
"Sure," Quinn shrugged, "as long as someone's in the office to verify your hours. But we have pretty broad schedules. There's usually at least one person there from at least six in the morning to ten at night."
Sue, Will and Shannon had finally extracted themselves from the bar and were making their way back to the table, a hulking, heavily tattooed barback following with a tray of drinks, the curvy barmaid having been moved out of their section.
Once everyone was seated and all eyes were on the roughneck, Santana retrieved her beer and replied, "Alright. I'm in."
A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. If you have the chance, please review. I'd love to hear what you think. Also, if you're interested in a non-AU story, check out my other one, "The Quarterback" (.net/s/7277285/1/The_Quarterback). Just a warning though, it's Santana-centric and involves her with an OC. But Brittana's always on, of course.