Hi everyone! So here's where the story begins. Please remember that Santana is the one who is telling the story to a 5 years old blonde boy in a nursing home. =)

I hope you enjoy it!

I'm not calling you a liar

Well, I guess it all began with the bank. Yes, it did. I was quite excited that day. I knew we were going to make money. Big time. We were gonna get rich, at least. What did I say about hands on my knees? Get out of here! So.. where was I? Oh, yes. The bank. Me and my friends, we were about 24 years old, I think. We were pretty young and life was already too hard on us. Why? Oh, many reasons, I guess. People already see us as basket cases. We were helpless, they would say. And maybe we were, I don't know. But the fact is, we manage to live as we could. We didn't have much money and we needed to eat, you know? We also needed some place to stay, that kind of stuff. Why do you always have to ask why? Let me put this way: we grew up going to one foster home to another and, you see, people don't like to adopt older children because they already have their ways to survive and it doesn't often fits the rules of the parents. I mean, I got in the system when I was ten, after my drunk father killed my mother and my brother. Since he was arrested and there was no one else to take care of me, I went to an orphanage. Do you know what that means? It's a place where they keep the children who don't have a family. Like me.

It was good, though. I mean, I life wasn't easy, but at least I didn't have to run away from my own father and pray to stay alive till the next morning. And I made quite a few friends in there. Like Puck and Quinn. They were already there when I arrived. Puck had run from his mother when she tried to put her drugs on him. And Quinn, well, she lost her folks in a car accident, quite a sad story, actually. Anyway, we hooked up right away. We were inseparable. It wasn't a surprise to anyone when we stood together after we got out. We used to get in a lot of trouble and it was complicated for us to just settle. So we started to do a few... uh, how can I say, illicit... uh... jobs, to, you know, raise a few bucks. Oh, you don't know what illicit means? Okay, better this way.

Well, as we got more and more into the, uh... business of... well, of getting money, our paths crossed with some other people and soon we were a nice group of five people who wanted some action in their lives. And we were getting better and better. Quinn, Puck and I were always in the front line. We were the ones who had to use some disguises, because our faces were the ones the cops would recognize. Artie was our tech guy, which means that he was the one behind all the tecnology involved, like cameras, lights, gates, alarms, that kind of stuff. And Mercedes was our PR, our public relations. She worked on a big newpaper and could always get the investigations away from us. We were good. We could even present ourselves as witnesses of our own robberies. And we had many faces, so it was hard for the cops to get their hands on us. But lets get back to the bank.

It was the chance of our lives. Mercedes had just found out about this rich (really rich) old man who died and let his fortune to no one since he didn't have a family. We figured we could be his lovely family. Yes, I know that that's not true, go tell your momma. Could you please just pay attention and be quiet for a while? Good. As I was saying, this was the chance of our lives. Artie could get us fake documents and ID's and we also did a background check on this guy. Everyone would be suspicious over any relative that came out of nowhere. It took us months to prepare everything. But we did. And eventually, the day had come.

Mr. Ferrera, Artie found out, had a sister who used to live in Puerto Rico until a few years before, when she died from a misterious and unimportant disease. She didn't have any kids, but that was not a problem to us. The important thing was: she was Mr. Ferrera's last known family and she would be our link to him. To his fortune. They didn't speak to each other when alive, and that's why people around Mr. Ferrera didn't know about his sister. The city she lived was so small that people knew each other well enough and it was easy for us to dig everything we could about his sister, Ms. Castillo. She had been married and her husband was dead as well. The perfect scenario for us. Since Mr. Ferrera was from Puerto Rico as well, we decided I would be the one to play his long lost niece. It was even more perfect since the manager of Mr. Ferrera's bank was male.

"It's time for a quick snack, Miss Lopez." The voice of the nurse made Santana and the little boy nearly jump for they were so concentrated on the story that they didn't see her coming.

"Yes, yes, I'll be right there", she said trying to dismiss the nurse. It was useless, however, since the nurse started to push her wheelchair across the room. The boy followed them.

"Why was it perfect that the manager was male?", he asked as he paced along the old woman. She didn't reply at first. She was trying to avoid being placed on the same table that some gossip old ladies were. They didn't like Santana very much. She, as they would say, used to have a bad life.

"Not that table!" She warned the nurse, who just smiled and kept pushing the wheelchair.

"I know, Miss Lopez, I know", she said in a soft voice.

"Why was it perfect that the manager was male?", the boy asked once again, but was again ignored by the old woman. When the nurse set her in a pretty empty table, the boy took a sit by her side. His gaze was persistent. The whole room started to notice that Santana Lopez wasn't alone, as usually. It was even more uncommon that she was sitting with a child. One of the teachers saw them and came along quickly.

"Johnny!" she called the blonde boy. Santana realized then that until that moment she didn't know his name. "I hope he is not bothering you, Miss Lopez", the young woman said as she approached their table.

"She's telling me the story of the love of her life!" Johnny said happily, his voice a little too high. The teacher looked at the old lady with surprise. Santana shrugged, but nodded, to show that the boy wasn't lying.

"Oh, that's wonderful!", the teacher said. "Do you mind if I join you guys?", she asked, looking anxiously to the old woman. Santana didn't like it. Why does everyone treats you like you're a child when you're old? That teacher could have been her daughter. Hell, she could have been her grandaughter! Yet, there she was, sitting on a chair, awaiting for the story to be told.

"Whatever", Santana replied, sipping her tea and finally looking back at the boy. Johnny.

"So", the boy started "why was it perfect that the manager was male?", he insisted. Santana almost smiled at him. He was too cute to be true. Well, actually, he reminded her of the love of her life.

"Well, because men can be easily persuaded when there's a nice pair of boobs in from of them. Specially if they came along with a short red dress", she explained. "I mean, if the man in question is not gay, obviously", she added, grinning. The teacher, however, was not grinning. She looked horrified.

"Miss Lopez!", she yelled with a sharp voice.

"What?"

"You're talking to a child!", said the teacher. Santana frowned, as if she couldn't see the problem. "Please, do not talk like that", the teacher insisted.

"You can leave, if you like", the old woman replied, sarcastically. The teacher didn't seem comfortable. She looked at her knees for a while, trying to decide what she was going to say.

"At least watch the way you talk. Don't teach him bad things", she pleaded. Santana shrugged again.

"Whatever."

Anyway, my body at the time was to drive a man crazy – though I wasn't much into men. What? This is not a bad thing! It was great, actually. We had rehearsed that day over and over again, going through every possibility to avoid anything getting wrong. I had this red dress that was just gorgeous and we all agreed it would be better if I wore it. It would make the... uh... transactions go much easier. I was also wearing sunglasses, a long black coat and black boots. I was simply ready to kill. No, not really kill. It's just an expression! Christ!

It was almost 4 pm when we got there. I walked straight ahead, with Puck by my side, dressed as a bodyguard. It was quite impressive, since he was strong and all big and stuff. The hall wasn't crowded, but in the moment we got in, every single pair of eyes was staring at me. At us. Not, at me, really.

"Where is the manager?", I asked just loud enough for everyone to hear me. I forced my accent to make it look even more real. In that moment, people needed to believe in me. I was posing as if I was someone powerful and rich. No one doubted it. In a few seconds a fat bald man came jogging to us, sweating through his skin. We waited as he approached. When he was close enough, Puck put his hand on the man's shoulder, preventing him to get to me.

"I am the manager", said the bald man. "I am!", he insisted. Puck still hadn't let him go. I put my hand over Pucks and merely nodded for him to back off. The bald man smiled. "Thank you. May I help you ma'm?"

"I'd rather talk somewhere more... private", I said in a low voice, taking my sunglasses off and looking straight to his eyes.

"Yes, of course", he said as if he were apologising. "Please, follow me."

We did. Everything was going exactly as planned. The manager led us to his office and closed the door behind him as soon as we got in. He gestured to us, pointing the chairs in front of his table and we had just sat when he offered us some coffee.

"No, thank you, Mr..."

"Thompson", he said quickly.

"Mr. Thompson. Thank you very much, but I don't drink coffee in the middle of the day", I explained. "It's impossible for me to sleep later and I just keep rolling over my sheets and I get really frustrated."

Mr. Thompson gulped as he looked at my bo- at me. "Alright, no coffee", he said. "Now tell me, Miss..."

"Castillo", I said. "Maria Castillo."

"Miss Castillo. How can I help you?", Mr. Thompson asked with a smile.

"Well, Mr. Thompson, I'm really hoping you can help me. I've just heard that my uncle has died and that his... uhm... his small fortune is still being held by your bank. And I'd really like to take it with me", I said it all at once, so that he wouldn't have much time to think.

"Okay... what's the name of you uncle?", he asked, sounding a little suspicious.

"Mr. Ferrera. Carlos Ferrera", I said firmly. The color on Mr. Thompson's skin was gone the second he heard that name. As we had predicted, the bank was aware of the possible thieves that would came after Mr. Ferrera's money.

"Mr... uh... Mr. Ferrera, you said?" the manager asked.

"Yes."

"Uh, well, you see, Miss Castillo, we've gotta problem here, for Mr. Ferrera didn't have a family to leave his money to. In fact, we have done a research through his family and there isn't even a niece in the picture", he explained. It looked as if he was sorry to say those things to me, which was quite funny, if I may add. And because it was funny, I laughed. I laughed and I put my hand over Mr. Thompson's hand.

"You're a funny man, Mr. Thompson", I said to him, still laughing. He tried to smile back, but he was too nervous to do so. That's when I got serious. "Wait. Are you serious?", I asked, putting even more accent to my words.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Miss Castillo, but you must've got the wrong Carlos Ferrera", he said.

"I'm afraid not. I'm quite sure that he's my uncle", I insisted. And then, I glanced to Puck, who immediately nodded, got up and left the office. I put both my hands on top of his. "Don't you worry, Mr. Thompson. I'm quite aware of those thieves trying to steal my uncle's money. Now tell me, Mr. Thompson, are you calling my a liar?", I asked with a smile.

"N-no, I'm not calling you a liar, Miss Castillo. But you must understand that we haven't heard of you when Mr. Thompson died", he tried to explain.

"Right. Okay. Now, look at me, Mr. Thompson", I said, getting closer to him. "Do you think I look like a thief?"

"Uh-well, no..."

"Good. Then we must not have any complications", I saind, grinning lovely at him.

"But Miss Castillo-"

"Here are all my documents, Mr. Thompson", I cut him off and handed him a folder full of paper. "As you may see, Mr. Thompson, my mother, Ms. Julieta Castillo, was Mr. Thompson's sister and she still lived in Puerto Rico until three years ago, when she died. I understand that my uncle wasn't aware of my existance because he and my mother haven't spoken in years! Infierno, I even think he didn't even know she was dead. They didn't get along, see?" Mr. Thompson slowly nodded to me. His eyes fixed on my lips. In that moment, I knew I had him. "Take a look, go on!" I said cheerfully.

"Oh, yes, of course", he said, taking the papers with his hands and looking over and over, reading all the certificates and documents. In my mind I was praying that Artie didn't miss anywhing. We knew that they would check and double check everything if they needed to.

"And did it work?", Johnny asked expectantly, his eyes locked on her. She grinned at him and she was about to answer whe she realized that Johnny and his teacher weren't the only ones paying fully attention on her story. In fact, even some of the gossip old women were looking at her. Most of the children were sitting around her, listening carefully. Santana rolled her eyes. So much for a day of peace. She decided to ignore them all and look back at Johnny, the only one she actually cared about right now.

"Well, yes. Artie was pretty good at his job and I wasn't that bad, myself", she said, grinning at him. "Half an hour later we were exiting the bank with a case full of money. So much money that we couldn't have manage to share without fighting each other..."

"What do you mean, 'we can't share this equally'?", Mercedes asked, looking angrily at Puck. We were at our hangar, the one we used to meet and drink and share the money. But we had never had so much in our hands.

"I'm just saying, I think we should give more to those of us who did more for it", he explained, as if it was a simple math question.

"Now tell me, Puckerman, what exactly have you done that you deserve so much of the share?", Quinn asked, also wanting to hit Puck in the face.

"Actually, if we were going to follow Puck's crazy plan, I'd say the most part you be mine", I said calmly, making everyone stare at me at once. I've been quiet all along the fighting and I was getting annoyed already. "And you Puck, who has done nothing but stay by my side as we entered the bank, would receive something close to nothing!"

"Let's not do this to ourselves, guys", Artie said, raising his hand. "My job was the most important, otherwise, we wouldn't even be here discussing this". He had a point. But it didn't matter. In two seconds, everyone was screaming at each other, something we'd never done before.

Later that night, we've only decided to leave it be until we could find a solution. It was obvious that we should share equally, but you see, humans are greedy. And apart from Artie, we had never been anything close to rich people. It was hard for us to have so much money with us and not wanting some more.

"I need a drink", I said to myself. But Quinn was standing right next to me and decided to come with me to the closest bar. Since she was my best friend, I didn't feel like fighting her. But everything was so confused in my head that I didn't even know if I could trust her.

"I say we cut Puck off and share it equally between us four", she said suddenly, when we were at the second bottle of beer. "I mean, he's the one who started this shit. We would be just fine if it wasn't for him", she explained. She was right and I knew it, but I wasn't in the mood to discuss it anymore. I just wanted to get really drunk and take a girl to my place and have crazy sex- I mean, and talk to her. Yes, talk.

Well, the first part of my plan was going just fine. I was already pretty drunk and trying to convince some random girl to go home with me when Quinn appeared and took me away. "Let me go, Q!", I said. "I need to get laid tonight!" And get laid, children, means talk with someone.

"Just shut up and look", Quinn said, pushing me off the bar and pointing at the parking lot. There was a lot of fancy cars parked in there, reflecting the moonlight. Since I still wasn't getting what she meant, Quinn continued. "Let's have fun. Pick a car, anyone, and let's take it with us. A little gift to cheer as up."

"Since when do we steal cars?", I asked her, still quite drunk and slow.

"We don't, but they say there's a first time for everything, so... come on, San, just pick one!", she insisted. I must say that I can't remember much of that night, but Quinn told me it happened this way. I looked over the cars and only one of them called my attention. A yellow one. "Yellow?" Quinn asked. "A little too much, don't you think?"

"Did you want me to pick one or not?", I replied, a little angry at her.

"Alright, let's take it!", she said. And I swear to God I have no idea how she got into it and made it start running. Damn, she was good! In a few minutes, we were at a highway, driving like crazy, too fast for our own good. We were singing and screaming, unaware that that was probably the most stupid thing we've ever done. But believe me or not, it was the most important thing I've ever done in my life. We had just stopped at a red light when I heard a little groan coming from the back seat. Quinn didn't heard it. She was paying attention to the driving. But I immediately looked back and what I saw made my chin fall hard. Lying on the back seat, moving as if she had just been waked up, was the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen in my life. And in that moment she could only mean one thing: trouble.

"Visiting is over, guys", said the nurse, interrupting the story once again and making everyone a little disapointed at her. The teachers got the children and they were slowly heading towards the exit when Johnny got up and came closer to Santana, who was actually feeling quite tired after so much time of story-telling.

"She was the love of your life?", the little boy asked, his blue eyes wide opened. Santana grinned at him.

"Yes, she was", she said. "But we can continue next time."

"What was her name?", he insisted, still not leaving. She smiled once again.

"Brittany."

Okay, guys, that's it for today.

Let me know what you think! =)