A sequel to The Exchange, featuring Simon and the boys having lived in Lima for a few weeks now. It is the final days of term and Simon is in for a big shock!

I was reading an article on TV tropes and they say that fanfiction disclaimers are actually counterproductive from a legal point of view, so I'll keep zipped up on that score!

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Will! Simon! Get back to work!"

Terri DelMonico's voice brought the two of them back into focus. They'd been hiding in the secluded part of the shop floor, making obscene jokes about the people who shopped at Sheets n' Things.

"Sorry, Terri," said Simon sheepishly as he headed back out into the main foyer. Will grabbed the pallet truck of mattresses he'd been carrying and kept rolling it along.

"I thought you Europeans were supposed to be good workers," Mr Shuester's ex wife said, waspishly.

"You're thinking of the Polish," Will retorted under his breath. He heaved the pallet truck all the way to the stock room, trying not to let on how heavy a pile of mattresses could be when stacked up. When the job was finished, he wiped the sweat from his brow and checked his watch. Three in the afternoon. It was time for a break.

He headed up the small stairs into the employee lounge upstairs and saw Jay on the couch, reading a Playboy magazine. His friend was gazing at it fascination, giving no thought to how depraved he looked.

"Expanding your cultural horizons, I see?" Will asked, dryly.

"Actually, I'm expanding my cock!"

"Yes, yes, I set you up there. Your break's over, by the way. It's gone three." He indicated to the magazine. "And put that away. Terri will go mental if she sees it."

Jay yawned, then checked his own watch as if in disbelief and fixed his work shirt. "Sure you don't want to borrow it? Have a cheeky little tug before you get back?"

"No thanks. I don't feel the compulsive need to spend my life erect."

"Cause we'll all find out you're not a grower or a shower?"

"Brilliant. Now get back to work." Will sat in the employee lounge and did feel the urge to grab Jay's porn mag, but he resisted that urge. Anyone could walk in. He stretched out, wondering whether he could get away with taking a nap on his break. He decided against it.

Simon came up after a few minutes. He'd obviously been spoken to by Terri because his face was slightly red. Will thought it was unfair to blame them for hanging out; he'd barely seen his friend for the last few weeks. Simon and Neil were living with Santana and Brittany (respectively, of course) whereas Will and Jay had pooled their money to getting a small, run-down apartment downtown. They had faced some issues getting the place before they were eighteen, but with a quick fax from Will's mum and Jay's dad, they convinced the landlord they wouldn't face any legal problem in renting to them. Jay's dad had even written a brief PS of 'Glad to be shot of the little wanker, to be fair'. They'd considered trying to remove it when the fax arrived, but had given up.

Will would have preferred anyone else to share an apartment. Jay left the toilet, the shower and the kitchen (Will usually made breakfast) in an abysmal state, in addition to there being very little on his mind apart from sex. But it had to be done for now; Burt Hummel had been fine with Jay staying there for the time he did, but any more and he was understandably reluctant.

"You fancy going to the pictures next Saturday, Si?" Will asked.

"Sorry mate, me and Santana are hanging out most of the time, I-"

"Beepetybeepetybeep!"

"Not you as well!"

"Sorry, Jay got me doing it," Will replied, grinning. "Okay, how about tonight? We can decide on what to see when we get there."

"Sounds good. Oh, we have to make it a late one, though. My dad's ringing me tonight. This is, like, the third time he's done it. He likes calling me every week or so. I don't have the heart to tell him to fuck off."

"You're lucky. My mum just says to ring if I've been attacked or if someone stole all my money."

"That's because of all the action your mum will be getting while you're not there. Right now, the whole Chelsea team's probably round your house."

"Shut up!"

"She's probably why Drogba always looks so knackered!"

"I will kill you where you stand. But yeah, let's go to the flicks. Pick me up at about eight?"

"Yeah, that sounds like enough time."

Simon had been at home for roughly twenty minutes when his dad rang. It had proved a long, tiresome day at Sheets n' Things.

"Hi honey, I'm home," he had said tiredly to Santana as he got in, and they kissed briefly. He smiled and waved at her father as they sat down in the front room. Santana had been enjoying a lazy Saturday.

"How was your day?" she asked as they sat down together. She tried to pat down his quiff but the gel wouldn't budge. Simon was, in her own words, totally hot except for his terrible hair. She would, she hoped, convince him to go for something more stylish.

"Was alright. Mr Shue's ex wife is still a bitch. That's one thing I'm kind of dreading about the summer, to be honest. I'll be working for her full time."

"You still get vacation time, right? I am so hooking up with Brittany if you're away working all summer."

"I'll still have some time for you," Simon said amorously.

"Don't do that," said Santana. "It's creepy. I get to make sexy talk, you don't."

"Right. Sorry." Simon shrugged. They talked idly for the next few minutes before the inevitable call came. Santana picked the phone and smiled.

"Hey, Alan," she said. Santana didn't usually remember names; as a rule, people remembered hers, not the other way round. Before she dated Simon she'd written his name on her hand to remember it. But she'd remembered Simon's dad's name. After around a minute or so of conversation she passed the phone over to Simon.

"Alright, dad?" said Simon, friendly. "How's London."

"Rainy, cold and shite," said Alan Cooper. "How are you, Si?"

"I'm alright. Working hard. Spending time with my special lady." He saw Santana stick her tongue out, imitating disgust.

"We're missing you a lot down here," said Alan.

"No we're not!" came a voice from further away.

"Sorry, that was your brother. Of course we miss you. Your mum's out, otherwise she'd talk to you as well." His dad sighed. "I still can't believe it, you know, Si? Only a while ago you were abusing Neil's dad, bunking off school and generally being a right arse. Now look at you! You're working, you're living with a bird, and you're in America!"

"Shocks me too, dad," said Simon, indignantly. That was one time after all.

The phone went silent for a few moments, as if Alan was struggling with how to say something. As if he wasn't sure how to tell Simon something. "You know, it's a shame my brother George isn't alive. You could have gone down to see him."

"You had a brother?" Simon asked, suddenly alert. "How come you never mentioned anything?"

"Well, it's a bit of a weird one, you see," said Alan. "I never even realised until a few years ago. See, my old man did a bit of, shall we say, playing around before he met your nan. Back when he was a lad, he met this bird who was over from Texas. She was living in London. Cracking bird she was as well, Si, we're talking tits out to here…"

"Yeah, it's alright, you can spare me the gory details. So, what, she was kind of a bit on the side?"

"Not at all. They were actually married. This was before he met your nan, of course. The kid they had even got christened to his name. They only divorced when he said he didn't want to follow her to Texas. Wanted to stay in the UK, you see."

"So there's another Cooper, your half brother, in Texas? How come granddad never told you about him?"

"He did, a couple of years ago. I traced George Cooper and sent him a letter. We were even talking about meeting; he wanted to invite me over for a chilli cook-off, whatever that is. I was dead keen. Problem was-"

"He died," said Simon, his brain working overtime. On the sofa next to him, Santana watched and listened with interest.

"Exactly. His wife's still alive, but I don't think I'd go out there. It would be a bit weird with his widow. And he had a son, so I've technically got a nephew, but-"

"He had a son?" said Simon, alert. "So I've got a cousin? You could have told me!"

"What use was it?" I didn't think you'd ever be here. You've got an auntie as well, but they don't live together anymore. Mary, that's his wife's name, she lives in Texas. Her son Sheldon lives in California."

"My cousin's name is Sheldon?" Simon asked. He was still struggling to come to terms with the big news.

"Sheldon Cooper. He lives out in California. I'm not too sure where."

"Jesus, dad. You really should have told me all of this!" Simon was amazed. He'd never thought there was this much to his family history.

"I've got his address somewhere, but I can't find it at all. Lost it a few months back. Can't even check my old post for them because the bloody missus deletes them after a while! Says they take up space! Bloody cheek, right? I mean-"

"What about my cousin?" asked Simon, cutting him off. "Do you have any idea where he is in California?"

"Not a Dickey Bird. Sorry, mate. I know he works at a university there but that's about it."

"That's okay, it'd be pretty implausible for me to get to either Texas or California."

"Fair enough. Anyway, Si, I have to go. Give my love to your special lady."

"Say hi to mum for me. And Andrew, I guess. The little shit."

He was silent for a while after his dad hung up. Santana, who prided herself on being too above the problems of others, decided to at least try to comfort him, cuddling up on the sofa. When he was in speaking mode again, he told her about his father's part of the conversation and that he'd lost all record of his family in America.

"Maybe, got to be loads of them though. Sheldon Coopers, I mean."

"Maybe we should look out for a terrible hairdo," she said as she once again tried to smooth down his abysmal quiff. He gently brushed her hand away, grinning.