Santana groaned as she rolled over searching for the warmth of Charlie's body only to find that it was no longer there. She sighs, and opens her eyes, his side of the bed was still relatively warm which meant he hadn't left all that long ago. It takes her a moment to realize that she can hear the shower running. He probably had to get to work or something and she rolls over. It was probably a sign that she should get going herself but she can't help but pause at the Yale shirt that he had handed her the night previously.

The sound of running water suddenly dies down and she hears the shower door opening and she's unsure of how she wants to play this. She had questions, but that didn't mean that she was against a quick fuck before he had to go off to work. It was the dilemma to end all dilemmas.

Charlie steps out of the bathroom, clad in nothing but a towel and smirks around his toothbrush after noticing that she was awake. "Hey. I didn't think you'd be up for a while."

"Do you have to go to work?"

Charlie nods. "No rest for the wicked, or whatever that saying is—"

"You never told me you went to Yale." Santana interrupts narrowing her eyes at him. "That's something you probably should have mentioned. You're not some type of stalker, are you? What, you were just going to show up at my dorm room and what? Surprise me?"

"No. You never asked. It's not something I try and shoehorn into conversation, I was going to tell your parents when they asked but they simply assumed that I was just some dumb mechanic. In fact, if you want to believe that I'm just some mechanic, that's fine too." Charlie grunts as he bends down to pull out his uniform and some clean boxers.

Santana blinked at his response, "I don't think you're just some mechanic, but you've met my parents. I didn't want them making you feel bad about it. Maybe I shouldn't have rushed to conclusions but it's not like I thought you were an idiot or something. Or just some dumb mechanic." Santana frowns and shifts, she wasn't going to feel bad about this, she wasn't her parents.

"Right," Charlie agrees absentmindedly.

Santana scowled at him, "Even if I did ask you probably wouldn't have told me. I don't even know your last name and we've been dating for weeks now. Charlie like Madonna?"

Charlie sighs and drops his towel as he begins to put on his boxers. "It's nothing personal Santana, but I like to know that someone likes me before I start bringing my family name into things. I get it, you like someone, might think that they're the best thing in the world only to find out that they're only with you because of your last name? So, I'm Charlie like Madonna. It shouldn't matter to you because you really don't like me to begin with. In fact, it didn't matter to you until you found out that I go to Yale."

Santana bit her lip and looked away for a moment, she couldn't now admit that maybe he wasn't the worst person in the world. "You lied. About the boat, this is your boat isn't it?"

"I didn't lie to you, not really. I chose my words very carefully. If I remember correctly I said that the yacht 'belongs to the owner of North Sails. It's one of his boats, I live here in the summer.' Which I do. But before you get all weird about it. I inherited North Sails." Charlie shakes his head. "I might have implied that it was someone else's boat, but that's all."

Santana rolls her eyes. "You implied? Whatever. You knew you were being dishonest and before you try and get up on your high horse, you intentionally kept it from me. So, my question is: why? What are you hiding?"

"Look, can't we just admit that we're just having fun here?" Charlie says, trying to get this whole thing back on track. He enjoyed the fact that Santana had no idea who he was and though it would pain him to admit it, it hadn't been so bad being her boyfriend or whatever they were. It was almost—nice. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want this to be more complicated than it needed to be. Sure, the sex is great between us, but—I thought it would be easier if we both understood that this was just a summer thing."

She frowns and blows out a breath. After all, he had put up with her dad when he was being the epitome of an asshole. What did it matter if he owned the boat company instead of working as a mechanic? It wasn't like he was a Fabray or anything. Besides, what did it matter that he would be at Yale too? It wasn't like she was going to see him every day or anything. "Yeah. Just no more secrets. It makes you seem suspicious."

"I was under the impression that it made me seem mysterious. Girl's like that sort of thing, don't they? There are more than enough crappy romance books about it." Charlie comments pulling on his boxers.

Santana shakes her head, she wasn't even going to dignify that with a direct response. "Do you have any shorts or something that I could wear? I need to get home, and I'd prefer to home before my mom notices me and comments on my walk of shame." Charlie bends over and tosses a pair of gym shorts at her. "Thanks."

Charlie grunts as he puts his polo shirt on and grabs his phone and his giant set of keys. "I'll walk you to your car," he says after an awkward moment. Santana is still in just his shirt, and with her bedhead—she looked rather adorable. It was a conundrum. He fiddles with his keys for a moment. He's not sure what comes over him, later he'll claim it was sleep deprivation but the words practically fall from his mouth before he can stop them. "Maybe we can go out for dinner or something later tonight?"

Santana eyes him questioningly. He had just confirmed they were nothing more than a summer fling, but—"You mean like a date?"

"Sure?" Charlie shrugs. He doesn't know what he's doing, fuck he doesn't even know where this is coming from. He turns and pretends to look for his wallet so that he doesn't have to battle with whatever look Santana is giving him now.

It would be so easy, incredibly easy to tease the hell out of him, but she doesn't and instead nods letting the awkwardness fill the air. "Yeah—sure."

"Good."

"Okay." Santana said sliding off his bed and slipping on the shorts. "I'll swing by to pick you up around—?"

"Six?"

"Sure." She nods and smirks when he runs his hand through his hair. "Now let's go before my mom kills me."

Charlie nods firmly and leads the way to Santana's car. This he could handle. The whole date thing that just happened? That he had no idea how to handle.

~?~

"I should cancel." Charlie calls from his bathroom where he is showering again.

Brittany smirks and scrolls through her phone, debating whether she should text her sister about this interesting development. "You should not cancel because it's not a big deal, it's just a date." She insists. It is just a date, but now that Charlie like Madonna is getting his head out of his ass he's realizing that Santana is pretty awesome herself.

"It's a date with a girl that I am—we're literally—it's a damn summer fling. Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to ask her on a date?"

"Because you like her. It's okay Chuck, Santana is awesome. Which is why you need to impress her. Take her somewhere nice. Don't be a cheap-ass Chuck, spend a little money on the girl you like."

"I shouldn't have to buy a girlfriend."

"First, Santana's not like that. Second, you also don't want a girlfriend who is cool being homeless and living next to you in a cardboard box." Brittany points out. She thinks that they're almost perfect for each other, but if she says that then she's pretty sure Charlie would dump Santana on the spot. He's kind of an idiot that way.

"She doesn't let me fish," Charlie throws in as he finishes buttoning up his shirt. "I like fishing! And—and—well her parents hate me—"

"You're doing very dirty things to their daughter and they think you're a creepy old man, doing creepy perverted things to their daughter. Of course, they don't like you. If you mentioned that you were a Fabray, they'd already be planning the wedding. You like Santana, you've liked her since she decided to keep her end of the bargain. You wouldn't have taken her out on your boat to see the dolphin's otherwise. So, stop thinking of excuses, and just—enjoy it."

"But it might rain—"

"Do I need to call Frannie and tell her you're being a pansy?" Brittany threatens. She's done listening to him find ways to get out of this, especially when she knows that he's going to have a good time.

Charlie sighs and fiddles with his shirt for a moment, "This is just supposed to be fun," he says with a sigh.

"Then you shouldn't have slept with her multiple times. You remember what mom said when she sat us down and gave us the talk. Sex changes things, and this time it's good. You like spending time with her, you let her steer your ship. You don't let anyone steer this boat, and you let her do it. You like her a lot. So, I don't see why this is a problem."

"Because this is only supposed to last the summer—"

"Yeah, that's not happening. You're at Yale, she's going to be at Yale, it's not like it's super long distances or anything. So, stop being a baby, because women don't find that attractive."

"Women don't find what attractive?" Santana asked knocking on the door as she came below deck. She was slightly surprised to see Brittany there.

"Babies. He was being a—"

Charlie moved and shoved Brittany onto his bed, he needed her to stop talking. He immediately straightens up and flashes Santana what he assumed was his most charming smile, he felt silly. This was silly. "You ready?"

She glances back at Brittany skeptically but decides that she probably doesn't want to know. "Yeah, let's go. Where are we going exactly?"

Charlie shifts a bit, "I was thinking Dave & Buster's."

"Seriously? You're taking her to Dave & Buster's?" Brittany's jaw dropped. That sounded like a lot of fun. She glances over at Santana who looked confused at her expression.

Santana looked between Charlie and Brittany for a moment before shifting uncomfortably, "This seems to be a thing—a thing that I don't know about. What's Dave & Buster's?"

"It's basically an arcade, but with alcohol." Brittany explains, nudging her brother proudly for actually planning something moderately decent. "It's kind of like a fun sports bar with games?"

"If you want instead, I can take you to a big fancy restaurant." Charlie hedges self consciously. Originally, he had thought it would be a great idea. But if Brittany thought it was fun, maybe it was a bad idea after all.

"You're not dressed for a fancy restaurant, and I've been to hundreds of fancy restaurants. This actually sounds sort of cool."

"Sweet! Double date time." Brittany grins.

"No." Charlie disagrees. "No 'double date time'. This is how tonight is going to go: Santana and I are going to leave, I'm going to win some stupid prize and we're going to have fun. You can bug her about the details tomorrow."

"But—"

"Good night Brittany."

Santana bit her lip and shrugged when Brittany turned to her. "I'll give you the details tomorrow," she promises allowing Charlie to take her hand and tug her along.

"Win me something!" Brittany says after realizing that pouting was not going to change her brother's mind.

Charlie rolled his eyes before turning to Santana helping her on his boarding ramp, "You'll like it there. It's super fun."

Judging from Brittany's reaction she probably would have a decent time, and the idea of playing arcade games while under the influence did seem rather fun, but there was one small problem. "You do remember that I'm not twenty-one, right? And I didn't bring my fake ID."

"It'll be fine Santana, they don't really care to some extent, and you can have plenty of fun without the alcohol. It's really decent food and even better desserts. Besides the drinks are only there so you're drunk while playing, which means that you have to spend more money to get more tickets and so on, while you drink more. It's actually a rather sound business strategy, the easiest person to get money from is a drunk person." Charlie points out.

Santana snorts, "It's easy to get a lot of things out of a drunk person, but actually this is perfect."

"Oh?"

"Now we can have a rematch." You think I'm going to let you kick my ass again like you did when we played pool? I want my own party boat."

"You really want to clean my boats again? This time I won't be nice to you about it," Charlie asks trying not to smirk.

"Please I can think of a million things that you'd rather have me doing than cleaning your boats," Santana smirks at him reaching up and fixing his collar a bit. His brow twitches at the perceived implication and she grins she had him exactly where she wanted. It would be like taking candy from a baby.