Santana entered her office with a cup of coffee in hand and a bag of her usual greasy BLT bagel sandwich in the other. The lights of her office were already on the shutters open. Passing through the hallway, leading to her office, from the doorway she can see Marley sleeping at her desk with her face on a pile of papers and books. She put her cup and paper bag down on a filing cabinet and approached Marley. She smiled, holding back a laugh as she heard Marley lightly snoring and a small puddle of drool on her hand. Santana cleared her throat, which did little to rouse Marley.

She folded her arms over her chest, smiling, and tapped the desk with her foot. "Marley!"

She bolted out of her chair screaming. A flurry of papers scattered the floor and Marley topped over her chair and smacked the ground. Santana burst out laughing.

"Uh… Huh?" Marley blinked a few times, cringing as the sunlight filtered the room, and gazed up to Santana. "Jesus, Santana. You asshole!"

Santana continued to laugh, walking away from Marley to return to her coffee. "I couldn't help myself."

Marley glared, grumbling as she twisted herself around to find leverage and push herself off the ground. She stood her chair back up on its legs and yawned. Santana took a noisy sip from her cup, watching Marley stretch and cringe as she pinched a nerve in her neck.

"What are you doing sleeping at the office anyway? Overtime isn't possible on my payroll, just so we're clear."

"I got caught up in translating the books," Marley said, picking up the fallen sheets of paper.

Santana leaned against the cabinet, her interest piqued. "Any luck?"

"Hardly. It's only been twelve hours. Ugh, my head. I need coffee." Marley went over to their coffee maker.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again. You're one hell of an overachiever," Santana said.

"Yeah and with little thanks from the likes of you," Marley replied, turning on the machine. "A cheapskate."

She put the coffee pot under the spout of the coffee maker and filled it with bottled water from their mini-fridge. The machine beeped and the power light lit green before going red and blinking.

"Rude. I am not a cheapskate."

Marley pressed the button a few more times and the coffee maker beeps repeatedly and she groaned hitting it. "Yeah? Say that to our wonky coffee maker you refuse to replace. It's been giving us problems for the last year and a half. You've had this for who knows how long."

Marley huffed and walked away once it buzzed and the power turned off on its own. Santana chuckled and approached her. "It's not broken it just needs a few hits."

Marley eyed her, irritated. "Oh really? Enlighten me, would you?"

Santana came over her coffee cup casually in her left hand. She pressed a few buttons and the maker beeped again. Four more tries and frustrated, Santana hit it on the side three times then pressed another button and the machine whizzed to life. Grinning proudly, Santana faced Marley as the coffee maker began to heat up the water until a spray of coffee water shot out and all over the counter. Santana jumped. The machine fizzed and cracked then steam emitted from the top of it.

"Uh-huh, not broken?" Marley asked.

"So we need a new coffee maker." Santana handed Marley her cup of coffee. "I'll work on it."

Marley took it and took a sip, pausing with it in her hand.

"What?" Santana groaned.

Marley smiled. "Nothing. You know, normally it's me coming in with your order of coffee before you arrive. It's a nice change for once."

"Yeah, well don't get too used to it. Why else would I hire a secretary?"

Marley blew over the rim of the cup, hoping to cool down the beverage. "And here I thought I was hired because of my business finance and a business law degree."

"Yes, degrees that make you overqualified for this position might I add, but you continue to stick around," Santana clarified. "Besides, it's just coffee. I can get more until I get a new coffee maker in the office."

Marley took a sip. Santana normally drank the coffee from their office with no sugar. She didn't always have time or make time to stop at the cafe for her coffee of choice, a caramel latte.

Marley sighed, content with the warm sweet contents of her drink. "Admit it, you need me."

"Now you're pushing it. When did your head get this big, Kid?" Santana said.

Marley shrugged, taking another sip, and yawned. "If it's one thing I'm confident about it is numbers, finance, money, math, and law."

"And you wonder why you're single," Santana retorted.

Marley jabbed her in the ribs and returned to Santana's desk with her cup. "Normal people would be offended, but luckily for you, I find your insecurities cute. Anyway, do you have any plans to get back on your case?"

Santana was flabbergasted. "I–I am not… Whatever, I do have a plan. I may know a guy that can give us an idea of where to find a Chimera in the city."

"Do share," Marley said.

"Grab your clubbing shoes. We're heading to a nightclub. Do you have anything skimpy to wear?"

Marley choked on her coffee and turned away from the desk just as she started spewing out coffee and coughing. She was red in the face during her entire fit until she started wheezing and settled down to be able to talk again. "You're kidding about that, right?"

Santana smiled. "Oh cheer up. I can lend you something of mine."

"That does not make me feel any better."

Santana pat her on the shoulder, grinning, "Don't worry. Stick with me and we'll get through this. I just need you there to see if you smell anything that's from the crime scene."

"And how exactly could I defend myself if you decided to get into a brawl?"

There had been times Santana insisted on Marley learning self-defense and knowing how to handle a gun, but she wasn't a fighter type. She spent most of her time at the office with calls, emails, cleaning up the office. The times she was around it was for legal purposes with clients.

Santana shrugged. "That's a fair point, but I can't make promises it won't happen. Look, just stay close and I'll handle everything. In the meantime, you can head home, sleep, shower, and get ready for tonight."

Marley gathered napkins from the table to wipe the traces of coffee on her face and floor before leaving. Santana decided to stay behind to answer calls.

"You really should have borrowed one of my dresses," Santana said, settling into the driver seat of her car.

Marley shifted in the passenger seat, fiddling with the button of her cardigan and collar of her blouse. "I think not."

She looked Santana over in her red low cut skin-tight dress. She didn't always dress up this way as her work required her to move around quickly. But Santana put a great deal on fashion when she had a chance to dress up.

"You know, the idea is to blend in. The librarian look totally kills the vibe," Santana sighed. "Such a gayby."

Marley frowned. "What? This has nothing to do with… You know what, I'm here aren't I? Can we please get this over with?"

Santana started the car. They sat in silence, Marley scowling and clenching her hands the closer they got to the clubbing district of LA. She checked on Marley a few times during their ride, wondering if it was best if she stayed in the car while she did this, but they needed to be sure the Chimera handler wasn't there. It would save them the hassle of tracking them down if it were possible.

"Try to relax," Santana said. "You can't act suspicious or this won't work."

"You just told me I look like a librarian."

Santana turned the corner and pulled into a parking lot next to a club with flashing neon lights. The bass of the music filtering from several open windows on the third floor. They exited the car and Santana grabbed Marley by her wrist.

"I was being a jerk," Santana said. "It isn't that bad."

That was the closest Marley was going to get to an apology, but she didn't press it. Santana looked her over and nodded. She pushed Marley's pink soft cardigan down her shoulders and she removed it.

"See, I have something," Santana said.

She undid the first two buttons of her crimson blouse. She tucked it into Marley's fitted black jeans. Then loosened her hair from its tight bun. Santana raked her fingers through brown locks a few times and smiled. She rummaged through her clutch and applied red lipstick on Marley's lips.

"You don't need these do you?" Santana asked, picking up the glasses that dangled on Marley's neck.

"Uh, no, just for reading."

Santana took it and put it into her purse. "I'll hold these for you."

Marley gulped as Santana studied her for a moment, "W–What?"

"You don't look that bad. Very baby butch vibes, but it'll do," Santana said.

"Thanks?"

Santana chuckled and beckoned Marley to follow her inside the nightclub. She spoke to the bouncer at the door, cutting a line of party-goers that stretched down the block. The guy nodded and let them pass. The inside of the club was dark and disorienting with the psychedelic strobe lights and pounding bass. Santana guided Marley with a hand clutched around her wrist. They pushed through the crowd, making their way to the bar table.

A slender man with curly brown hair was serving drinks and waved when he spotted Santana. "Santana! It's good to see you again. What can I get you and your friend? She's not your usual type I see, but a cutie."

Marley blushed as he grinned at her with a knowing look.

"Marley is my assistant. I'm here for business, Mason. Is Puck around?" Santana answered.

"Oh, I am so sorry I thought you two were..." Mason said. "Puck is in today, in the back. You sure you don't want a drink?"

Santana declined and headed up the second-floor stairs. This area was still packed and the music just as deafening until they reached the door in the back labeled: Staff Only

It was much more quiet and well lit. Two men in denim jackets with horns attached to it stood outside the last door at the end of the hall.

"I'm here to speak to Puck," Santana said.

They looked at each other and opened the door. Inside the room, it was dim with a cloud of smoke and a strong smell of weed. Marley cringed. A round table in the middle of the room were three guys and one in the middle with a mohawk hairstyle sat smoking a cigar.

"Puckerman," Santana announced.

The three men turned around, clutching their cards. They dropped them before getting up to leave, except one guy with short brown hair that looked similar to Puck, but with browner skin. He took a seat on one of the couches.

Puck sat up, smiling, and approached her. "Well if it isn't Satan herself."

"Have a seat," Santana whispered, before leaving Marley. "LA's biggest man whore. I would say I'm glad to be here, but I am not the type to tell such lies."

Puck tapped his deck of cards against the table shakily, "What do you need this time?"

Santana joined him at the table, taking an empty cup and filled it with the bottle of whiskey left on top of a pile of cash. She helped herself to a glass while Puck looked displeased about it.

"You never beat around the bush. It's probably the only trait I like about you," Santana said, knocking back her shot of whiskey.

"It isn't me trying to be thoughtful. You ruined my winning streak."

Pouring herself another drink, Santana glared, her elbow propped on the table. "I'm about to ruin your whole night."

Puck slouched back in his chair, hands resting on his neck. Santana knew how to ruffle his feathers and it was something she enjoyed too much. Puck's smug smile was stoic.

"You have nothing on me, Lopez."

"I'm sure Jake's job would be understanding then that he's around illegal gamblers and pot smokers," Santana said.

Puck glanced at the guy sitting on the couch. Marley giggled and Santana looked over to see her enjoying her talk with Jake and smiling.

"Leave him out of this," Puck's gaze hardened, his shoulders tense. "He's only here to visit and just joined LAPD a month ago."

Santan remained collected. She knew Puck's reputation. He knew the streets and he didn't have a clean record, but to believe he knew nothing about anything black market related wasn't true.

"I need a favor." Santana put her cup down. "I'm looking for any leads about a Chimera handler. One that might be near the ocean shore, possibly."

"Do I look like a fucking zookeeper?" Puck hissed. "Besides, Chimeras are like dead."

Santana glared, crossing her arms. She didn't want to spend more time here than she needed smelling like cigarettes and weed. She hated this place. And this wasn't a scene that suited her for a dozen years."I'm not going to give you specifics but they are alive. I need to find someone who deals with them."

"And I would tell a cop, why?" Puck said.

"Puck now is not the time to have morals. Just last week you tried to swindle a fucking high schooler into buying what you claimed to be magical PCP," Santana scoffed. "And you promised him he could actually fly."

"Hey, I wasn't lying. It's magical."

"Humans ingesting vampire blood is against the King's law," Santa said. "Not to mention putting us at risk of exposure and not even our kind could fly by drinking it. You wanted to see that poor kid splatter himself on the sidewalk."

Puck groaned and reached over for his whiskey bottle. "I can't turn down easy money. It's a business move."

Santana can attest to his attraction to money, growing up many of his years poor and sometimes homeless. She helped him out years ago as a favor for his services years ago. He was still a useful contact if she could get what she needed out of him.

"The only thing keeping you open is that you're neutral territory. Which is also a great place for smugglers. So spill."

Puck filled his cup and took a gulp. "Okay, say I know a guy. What's in it for me?"

Santana groaned. "I won't punch you in the face."

Marley let out another laugh, louder this time, and got both their attention. Santana glared, seeing Jake sitting closer to Marley, leaning toward her. She knew little about Jake, but word traveled quickly. He was a Puckerman that was no doubt. He was charming. A womanizer, much like Puck, Santana was sure although she never knew him.

"Come on, I can't just give you stuff for free," Puck coaxed.

"Call it a favor."

Puck grimaced. She knew he wouldn't go for that. How he was always thinking of his chance for profit. That was one of a bunch of downfalls, but Santana needed him. The connections were important.

"Look Puckerman, I help you and you help me. I've let a bunch of things slide in the past. I won't report Jake and he can remain one of the guards," Santana offered.

Puck sighed. "In that case, if I need something I have your word?"

"I swear Puck, if you have me kill someone I'll take you out in your sleep before I ever do that."

"Dude, cool it, murder and assassinations aren't my styles. I have hard limits too," Puck said.

She thought it over. The possibilities of what Puck could ask her was endless. She knew from experience he dealt in smuggling. He hated the law, regardless of Santana being a private investigator. Yet, he kept their connections, he had some sort of intention, she was sure of it.

"Okay, since we agreed to that I'll do you a favor," Santana said.

Puck smiled. "Awesome. I have a guy coming in with some goods. He refuses to come to LA without any protection."

"You want me to be a babysitter for a drug dealer?"

Puck served himself another drink and chuckled, "I think the word you're looking for is a bodyguard. Secondly, he's not that type of seller. He just needs someplace to lay low for a bit then move out."

"God Puck, can't you just use your own connections for that?"

"No one suspects him to deal with a cop, okay? It's just to pick him up from the airport. I'll have guys take it from there."

"And when is this? I have a case far more important than a drop-off job and one that's paying me," Santana countered.

Puck nodded. Santana knew not to ask much about it. The least she knew about what this guy carried the better. That she learned from experience.

"I know. Call us even once you get him to his location," Puck said. "He'll come in two months. I'm sure you'll have that case sorted out before then. So, do we have a deal?"

"Alright, but if he decides to rob me I'll kill him before he can blink."

Puck laughed. He lifted his glass of whiskey. "Cool. I'll toast to that."

Santana rolled her eyes and picked up her half-empty glass and tapped it with Puck's. They both finished their drinks.

Puck fished through his denim jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. He scribbled on the back of it before handing it to Santana. "Here is the address of the auction house. It deals in exoctic animals. The guy who owns it and runs it goes by Smythe."

"What does he look like?"

Puck shrugged. "I have no idea. The dude has other people do his business for him and when he is around he wears a goddamn mask. He's probably a freak."

Santana took the card he slid across to her.

"Be careful, San. He's a dick. Talks like some stuck up the rich boy and he has one hell of a temper. Also, he's killed a few people. He's a known trigger-happy type of dude."

"Thanks for the heads up," Santana said, stuffing the card into her clutch. "Well Puckerman, I hope we never cross paths again."

Puck grinned. "But you have that favor I'll definitely call in. Just don't get yourself killed looking for this guy. It would be a bummer on my plans."

Santana kept a steely smile and said, "Go to hell."

She approached Jake and Marley, who was in the midst of a deep conversation. Santana glared, seeing Jake had an arm on the back of the couch, behind Marley. "Beat it Man-Whore the second."

Jake looked at her, his jaw clenched. He looked to Puck before sighing and stood up. "Whatever."

He walked away and Marley stood, her hands clasped together. Santana took a hold of her by her bicep and led her out of the room.

"You didn't have to be so mean him. Jake's a nice guy," Marley said.

Santana had no interest in hearing any of that or what they talked about. "He's a Puckerman. Do yourself a favor and don't bother."

They made their way to the exits. The thump of the bass washing away when they step outside again.

"I think I'm old enough to know who to speak with or not, " Marley countered. "And, aren't we supposed to be looking for our suspect here? Why are we leaving?"

They reached Santana's car and she got into the driver seat. "We only showed up hoping to catch Puck and we got lucky. What I really needed was information and we have it."

She started the car once Marley settled in next to her struggling with her seatbelt.

"So, does that mean we're doing a stake-out?!" Marley asked.

Santana glanced over to her as she paused at a red light. "Okay, you're going near that. It's my job."

Marley frowned. "But, you said we're in this case together."

"I never said those exact words. Don't you have to translate to do?"

Marley sulked in her seat, arms folded over her chest. Santana could see she was bothered by this, probably thinking she would spend her hours out for this case rather than at the office. She was still just an assistant. Santana had the experience. It wasn't safe for her to tag along. That was the logical aspect of this.

"Marley looks," Santana started, getting her attention. "This is serious. I'm about to enter a black market auction house. How can you protect yourself in this situation?"

"I get it," Marley said. "But you can't go in alone either. What if things get dangerous?"

That was a genuine concern on Santana's end too. She had no idea what to expect. They would be armed that was sure, but going into a building with twenty armed men, didn't increase her odds.

"Alright, maybe we can come up with something. I'll be going to this auction house tomorrow night," Santana said. "We'll work something out together."

Marley looked less upset about this outcome. She sighed. Santana kept her eyes on the road and nodded. "I just need you to keep translating those books."

"I get that. I'll still work on that," Marley said.

"I just can't risk you getting hurt. There will be cases that are dangerous and this is turning out to be one of those cases."

"So, I'll learn self-defense or how to hold a gun," Marley said.

Santana chuckled. "I think self-defense will do. I can teach you a thing or two some time. Right now, we need a plan."

Marley smiled. "I have an idea. Can we stop at the office first? I need to grab some things."

"You have a nice place," Santana said, pulling up to Marley's apartment complex.

Marley laughed. "It's a shit hole. But it's what I can afford right now."

Santana shrugged and looked over the six-floor apartment complex and the neighborhood. The streets were cleared of any trash, it didn't stink and it was quiet. A lot of the buildings around them were in decent shape and the bridge they drove over to get here was covered in graffiti. Santana was never invited to Marley's place before. They often kept their work relationship separate and somewhat private. Marley knew more about Santana's drinking and one-night stands than Marley's non-existent dating life.

"It's better than where I live. I spend half my nights in the office anyway," Santana said.

Marley stepped out. A laptop in hand and her purse. Santana followed her, leaving her clutch in the car. Marley unlocked the first door that led to the hallway and a set of staircases.

"Why are we here?" Santana asked.

"My roommate knows a way to get info on this auction house and the guy who runs it."

They walk up four flights of stairs. Santana can't see how her roommate would be able to help, but anything was useful and better than going in blind. When they reached the top Marley was fishing through her bag for her keys. She unlocked the second door to their left and Santana can hear the sound of a blaring TV.

"Marley?"

"Hey, I'm home. I brought over company," Marley said.

"Company? Did you bring over a guy? Is he cute?" Marley's roommate asked.

They move through the apartment, passing through a narrow kitchen and into the living room, where a woman with a darker complexion on the couch sat. She got up, seeing Santana come in after Marley, and grinned.

"Hi! Oh, she's gorgeous, Marley. Where did you meet her?"

Santana watched Marley glance over her, red-faced and with a timid smile. "She's not… Santana is my boss, Unique."

Unique got up, extending her hand and greeting Santana. "A boss that wears… That? Okay."

"We were… Nevermind, can you help us or not?" Marley said.

"Of course." Unique greed. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

She gave Santana a second look, seeing the matching lipstick, and grinned. Marley furiously wiped her lips. Santana didn't change from when they were at the club. Marley's face deepened in shade and up to her neck. Santana wasn't bothered by it.

"Can we get straight to the point?" Santana asked.

"Right, Santana, Unique is good with computers and records." Marley took a seat on the couch, putting down her laptop. "I was hoping she can help us look for someone."

Unique scoffed. "If there is some sort of digital trace I can get it." She got up, beckoning them to follow her. "Step into my lair."

The bedroom they entered was covered in glam shot posters of singers, but besides the tiny twin side bed was a large desk with a glowing computer tower and LCD screen. Unique took a seat, before turning on the computer.

"She's a hacker?" Santana questioned.

Marley bashfully nodded and rubbed the back of her neck. "Uh, yeah. But she's… She's a good one?"

Santana wasn't pleased. She didn't work with people of this nature for many reasons, one being her moral code and technically being an enforcer of the law. "I can't work with her. This is–"

Marley moved aside, coaxing Santana over to her and away from Unique. They were already here. She had no intention of leaving, but Santana had the final say as her boss. "I know that but just hear me out on this?"

Santana was agitated. She had no reason to be here. She didn't have an interest in working with a lawbreaker. She already had to deal with Puck for that. It was a complex relationship she would rather not deal with unless needed.

"This can get real dangerous Santana," Marley started. "What better way to be prepared than knowing what you're up against?"

That was logical. Santana knew it. It was something she didn't always practice. She was the ballsy type, bordering on reckless. That she can not deny. It was also why she deemed she worked best alone. Paired with her years of gun training and combat, she could get out of any situation, provided there were no advantages against her. The risk was part of the job.

"Okay, but we can't rely on a–"

"If you two are done bickering I have a question. Who are you looking for?" Unique asked.

Santana handed her the card she stuffed into her dress.

"Give me a few hours," Unique said.