A/N:- I know I suck at updating quickly but I've got a lot of the next chapter down already so hopefully it will be out soon. Sooner than the next episode of Glee at least. Thanks for reading.

3.

McKinley High school 11:00 am

In the now fixed time machine/car, Santana circled the school parking lot like a hawk ready to swoop down and snatch a free space parking spot at the first sign of one.

"Why do all these kid have cars? That's why they're so fat, they don't even walk to school."

"Look, there's a space out on the main street," Brittany pointed, waving her arm wildly to indicate it nearly poking Santana's eye out in the process.

"A space? It's the size of a golf cart. Hey, isn't that Fabray's car?" Santana eyed the car next to the so called 'space'. "She never could park," she huffed. "There'd be room if she could stay in the lines and this car wasn't the size of a tank. B, as soon as we get home this beast has got to go. I mean, does it even have power steering?"

"Do you want me to park it?" Brittany asked, as softly as if she were about to provoke a charging rhino.

"No! I'm doing it!" Santana exclaimed huffily as she began to execute a twelve point reverse parallel park being sure to hit the bumper of Quinn Fabray's baby blue coupé as many times as possible as she parked next to her.

"San."

"I'm not doing it deliberately, Britt. It's this stupid car!"

"Calm down."

"I do not need to cal- Hey!" Her voice turned to a high pitched scream of outrage. "You fucking asshat, what the actual fuck are you doing?" Santana wound down the window and screamed at the cop happily slapping a ticket down on the windshield to their time machine/car.

"You don't have a school issued parking permit."

"I haven't turned the engine off yet which means I haven't parked. I know my rights!"

"Don't make me book you," the cop warned with a frown.

"Ha! I'd like to se- mmmmmph!" Brittany slapped her palm over Santana's mouth before she could cause further aggravation and get them into unnecessary trouble.

"Santana," she muttered through gritted teeth. "We don't have ID, driving licences and even if we did they'd think they were fake. Please don't anger the nice cop, okay?" Santana glanced over to see Brittany chewing her bottom lip anxiously.

"Is that a Delorean?" The cop asked curiously.

"Uh... yeah," Santana's anger deflated after looking at Brittany. "It's my wife's. Gotta go find my kid. You deal with it, Britt."

Santana got out and opened the trunk, pulling out Brittany's old motocross gear while Britt got out and discussed cool old cars with the cop. She took his photo standing next to it and he went on his way leaving them with two warnings. One for parking and one "You really shouldn't have animals loose in your vehicle, get a carry basket or something. Its not safe. Have a nice day, ladies."

Santana looked up puzzled at his words but Brittany just nodded and smiled. "We will, thank you," she said while giving her well perfected 'Thank you, Officer' smile.

"What animal? What was he talking about?" Santana asked with bemusement.

"Why are you putting off finding Sugar?" Brittany non so subtley ignored her question.

"I'm not. Of course I'm, that's not... That would be ridiculous. I mean, look at me I'm even putting on this poor excuse for disguise." She pointed to the pink and white leather motocross jacket she had just shrugged onto her shoulders which had a striking streak of mud across the chest.

"…"

"Fine, alright. We may have had a slight disagreement before she... disappeared."

"What did you fight about?"

Santana sniffed slightly, heralding the promise of oncoming tears. "I promised her a driving lesson then I had to work so I couldn't take her and I guess she didn't take it too well and tried to take this car and something went wrong." She took a deep, shuddery breath. "And my baby, my poor baby!" Santana buried her face in Brittany's shoulder and sobbed.

"Oh baby, it's okay. We're here, she's here."

"What if she's mad and doesn't want to see me?"

"Shhhh, shhhh. She adores you as much as you do her. She's trapped here and will be so happy we've come to get her, I promise."

"She wont be mad?"

"You'll be her saviour, she loves you."

"I love her so much and I upset her."

"Shhhh." Brittany rubbed her back soothingly until the tears subsided and Santana pulled herself together.

"She doesn't even know we're here yet," she hiccuped.

Brittany chuckled. "Oh she'll know when she catches sight of this car."

"This is all my fault. If she knew how to work it properly she wouldn't have got stuck here in the first place."

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to teach her how to use it."

"If I had she wouldn't be stuck here. What the- Jesus, Britt, your duffel is moving!"

"No, it's not."

"It is!"

"It's not." Brittany tried to step in front of the bag but Santana pushed her to the side. She opened it carefully to find Lord Tubbington burrowing himself into a motocross boot in an attempt to hide.

"Holy fuck, why is that fat fuzzy furball in here? That's where he went!" Santana gasped. "He didn't go to Europe on vacation. You stole him and took him into the future!"

Brittany had the good grace to look guilty and scuffed her boots on the ground. "Do you ever wonder what other weird things happened because of the future? What about when Quinn came to school with her hair green? And where did those boxes of Breadstix' Breadsticks come from?" she frowned after seeing the stack of cardboard containers taking up half the trunk.

Santana gaped at her, jaw open until Brittany looked up from her feet and side eyed her hopefully. Santana looked up into the sky for inspiration then ran a hand through her hair.

"That was cos she went swimming and the chlorine reacted with her hair."

"Oh." Brittany was looking up now with a hesitant smile curling at the corner of her mouth. "How do you explain Puck's mohawk?"

"There is never going to be an explanation for that." Santana sighed in defeat and leaned back against the car.

"There's another five hours of school." Brittany mused, looking up at the clock over the entrance to the school building.

"We'll wait."

"You wont be able to sit still for that long."

"I'm not leaving that smelly gremlin in the car to pee all over the seats and eat my breadsticks. Plus, that parasite cop is still around. That's how they get paid you know, commission on tickets. And we cant leave our only means of getting back home unguarded."

""Whoa now, Lord Tubbington is highly trained to Cheerio's standards and only eats lean bacon. And our means of transportation is cunningly disguised as a car."

"The car thief wont know that."

"What car thief?" Brittany loked around in alarm as though expecting to find a gang of car jackers eyeing up their vehicle.

"The one who'll steal our car. Probably Puck."

Come on, Santana." Brittany slammed the doors shut. "We're both going to get the girl."

"I guess no one would serioiusl want to steal that pile of junk," Santana pondered, then grinned wickedly. "I love it when you take charge."

"I know you do." Brittany smirked as she took Santana's hand and they walked into McKinley High for the first time in 22 years.

Within seconds it went wrong. A painful 'Ooooof' emitted from Santana's lungs as she barrelled straight into the back of Brittany who had frozen in the middle of the hallway. She gasped for breath, momentarily winded, then looked up to see what had caught Brittany's abrupt attention.

"The piano dude!" Brittany squeaked in shock.

Brad frowned and looked into his coffee cup as though checking it for some kind of chemical residue. Brittany took initiative, grabbing Santana and running. Brad stared after them. "I hate those kids," he muttered.

"PSST. PSST."

Sugar looked around the local area between the bleachers and the entrance to the school building and then for a reason known only to herself lifted her foot to look at the sole of her right shoe. Seeing nothing untoward, she lifted the other, shrugged and then walked off.

Adult Brittany's shoulders slumped where she sat nearby, hidden away under the bleachers where she had been spying on the student body for the past hour hoping to catch a glimpse of her errant daughter. Santana had got antsy about 50 minutes ago and had muttered something about stardom and heads and swore she'd be back with a sandwich. Brittany wished she'd hurry up as her belly grumbled with hunger, stolen breadstix only went so far.

She let out one more frantic, "Psst!" before Sugar got out of earshot but all thoughts of communicating further with her daughter disappeared into a black hole of horrified oblivion. To her horror her own face appeared in front of her, her own face looking curiously under the bleachers from one of the seats, her own face looking twenty two years younger than usual. They stared at each other with identical expressions of surprise and mild terror. Eventually, teenage Brittany broke the silence.

"Hi."

"Hi," Brittany whispered back.

Teenage Brittany crawled under the bleachers to join... herself, and stared unabashedly at 40 year old Brittany who scooted back a bit nervously.

The sound of raucous laughter caught their attention and they both looked over to where Sugar was skipping along happily beside teenage Santana and laughing along with whatever Quinn and Santana were giggling about. They both turned back to stare at each other once more.

"I thought you were Lord Tubbington," teen Brittany said. "He doesn't like it when I go to school without him. Did I make a time machine?"

Brittany cleared her throat and then murmured, "What makes you ask that?" She was momentarily distracted as her eyes darted to Sugar as she disappeared into the building.

"Are you here for Sugar?" Brittany asked curiously, noticing the object of Brittany's attention.

"Uh. No? I'm not allowed to meet you or talk to you or tell you anything."

"Okay." Teen Brittany frowned in thought. "Who told you that?"

Santana was going to kill her. She was going to absolutely blow a gasket and be so, so mad. Brittany gulped. "Santana said not to tell you that."

There was a disembodied hiss and crackle and then came the words.

#B, come in. Over.#

Teen Brittany looked at Brittany with interest as she heard a voice come in a crackly whisper from between her older, but equally as fine, boobs. "I like your boobs," she grinned, admiringly.

Brittany hurriedly reached in and pulled out a kids walkie talkie she had liberated from the Pierce's garage the previous day. It screeched in her hands as she tried to work it.

#Santana, use the codenames!# There was a pause then Brittany sighed with frustration and spoke into the device again. #Over.#

There was another crackle and then came a rather unenthusiastic call.

#Crusty breadstix to Pepperoni nipples, over.#

Teenage Brittany enthusiastically snatched it out of her older persona's hands and pressed the transmit button.

#Hello? Santana?#

There was a crackle and then a hesitant.

#What happened to code names, Britt? Why do you sounds weird? Over.#

#I always sound like this! Santana, is that you? What are you doing? I just saw you with Quinn.#

#I haven't even seen Fabray yet. What are you talking about?#

Brittany took the hand held device back off her younger self and spoke into it.

#The babybird has been spotted.# She paused trying to think of a way to put this that wouldn't make Santana freak out. Ah, who was she kidding? There was no easy way to put this. #Also, that thing you said must absolutely never ever happen, the thing that's as big as Lord Tubbington's waistline? Well, it might have happened.# She waited for a reply then shook her head and spoke into the radio again. #Over.#

#What thing? Over.# Santana's reply seemed cool and somehow rather ominous.

#You should really see for yourself. Can you come to the bleachers, please? And bring me a blue slushy. Over.# She looked over at cheerio clad Brittany who was pointing to herself. #Make that two slushies, please. Over.#