When New Direction landed on Westerville, Santana sighed and got up. She knew she would have to coordinate with Finn and Sam so that she was back from her clients before they had to go. No matter how meticulously they planned their jobs, they never seemed to go smoothly.

Thankfully, things here would definitely be going smoothly for her. She'd visited clients on this planet several times over the years, and knew exactly what she needed to do. Of course, that was also before Santana had started being honest with herself. Before she had taken Lady Danielle on as a client and admitted that she felt nothing for any men.

Santana could see the forms of Finn, Puck, Sam, and Kurt growing smaller and smaller as she flew to the center of the city in her shuttle. She had two days here, and was going to make every minute count. Her first client was the mayor's son. She greatly disliked the mayor, who had no qualms about insulting her and her line of work to her face. But she had hope for the son.

The man had entered her shuttle looking deeply uncomfortable and out of place. "I'm sorry you have to waste your time with me. I told my father that I don't need his help, but…"

"I understand," Santana said, putting on the act of the kind and understanding companion. The first time Kurt had seen her play the part, he had stood dumbfounded in place for ten minutes - that was how Santana knew she was good.

"No, you don't. My father doesn't know, but I have - I mean, I'm not … I'm not a virgin."

"Why are you ashamed to tell your father that? If that would get him off your back, it seems that it would only work in your favor."

"No, you see," the man struggled for words, "my father - he doesn't know, but I - I prefer the company of men. Last month, a male companion came through here and I saw him."

"Ah," Santana replied. "Well, Dave, in that case, I'm not going to force you into anything. We can sit here and talk, and when your father returns, we won't tell him what really happened."

"Thank you," Dave Karofsky replied.

"What do you want to talk about?" Santana let her calm, kind act drop slightly now that she didn't have to seduce this man.

"Well, um, I know that as companions, you see a lot of people, so it probably isn't very special, but -"

"It was special to you and you want to see this guy again?" Santana finished for Dave, smirking slightly when he looked up at her in shock.

"Yes," he whispered.

"What's his name? I'll see if I can track him down for you." It shocked Santana, but she wasn't saying those words just because Dave, or rather, Mayor Karofsky, was paying her. She really did want to help this man.

"Brody."

Mercedes and Mike were seated at the dining room table, ready to relax all afternoon and play cards while the rest went into town to pick up the cargo for their next job. Kurt was heading in to go shopping and pick up some much needed supplies. Finn lead Sam and Puck over to a local bar - small, cramped, and dirty. Perfect for a clandestine conversation, and perfect for their meeting with Jacob Ben Israel. He's probably Finn's least favorite of the people that they deal with regularly, but beggars can't be choosers, and JBI contacted them about the job. At least Finn did a better job at concealing his rage and dislike than Puck.

"What's the take this time?" Puck barked at the slight man sitting across from them.

Jacob seemed to quiver in his seat and Finn mused again how he'd managed to never get caught. It was probably because he was so weak and pathetic that most people didn't think to suspect him. Or because he always hid himself behind bigger, stronger, smarter men than himself. Really, JBI was nothing more than a messenger, an errands boy who knew too much and was too nosy for his own good.

"It's nothing much. Just a few antiquities from earth-that-was that Sylvester is interested in for her personal collection. I managed to track them down, but you all know I don't do the grabbing or smuggling," the man wheezed.

"And what's the catch?" Finn demanded.

"What? No, it's nothing big. It's just - well, it's kinda in one of Clarington's warehouses."

"So you're telling me that we have to go all the way across this city dragging some giant crate of crap which we'll have to take from directly under the nose of one of the most ruthless men in the system?" Finn asked, incredulous. Who would be stupid enough to take a job like that?

"Yes, but Clarington stores his own personal collection there. So you could get yourself something extra. Plus, Sue said she'd pay double for the effort."

Double. Well, that was certainly motivation enough. Finn looked to Sam, who had been silent for the whole exchange, for confirmation before shaking JBI's hand. Once the smaller man had scuttled out of the bar, Finn turned to Sam.

"Any idea how we're going to pull this off?"

It was early in the morning when Puck, Finn, and Sam left to cross the city and collect the contraband. Sam's plan had been solid and simple. Take the other shuttle and decorate it a bit. Find Clarington Steel guard's uniforms. Simply walk right into the campus, unload the stuff from the warehouse, and fly away. They'd stay one more night, Santana would rejoin them, and then they could all leave for McKinley to drop the stuff with Sue Sylvester.

The smoke from the hot fires inside the other warehouse and factory buildings blocked out the sun, giving the entire factory campus an eerie atmosphere of perpetual dusk. No one paid too close attention to the tired workers, many of whom were scarred with burnt tissue, who labored at the site. They couldn't afford to waste their time. In and out. Quick and easy.

Inside the factory, men stood in front of large furnaces as they watched the metal melt and boil in the hot flames. One man collapsed to the floor, the heat of the flames too much for him.

"Anderson! Up!" a foreman shouted at his weak form.

The man dragged himself on to his feet and resumed his work at a sluggish pace. The foreman's eyes narrowed as he watched his back.

When Blaine left the factory at six that evening, he was even more exhausted than usual. His sister's condition had only gotten worse in the past few weeks, and he had stayed up with her all night last night. All he wanted was some cool water and a pillow for his head, but he knew that he still had work to do at home. Ever since Cooper had been killed in the war, Blaine had taken over. He'd dropped out of school and gotten a job at the factory just so he could provide a better life for his little sister, and now he'd failed at that.

The last warehouse, one that most of the workers called "Clarington's Treasure Chest" was right along Blaine's route home. Usually it was locked up and mysterious as ever, but not today. The door was open just a crack, and Blaine's curiosity got the better of him as he peeked inside.

The large room was empty of people, but certainly not lacking any adornments. There were shelves of porcelain and glass figures, antiquated weapons, books, machinery, gold, anything a man could dream of. And all of it was unguarded.

Just one small trinket was probably worth more than the shack Blaine and his sister lived in. No one would have to know where he got it, and then he could pay to send Vi to a real hospital.

His mind was made up. Blaine darted into the building, grabbed a small silver jewelry box, and ran the rest of the way home.

Sam headed back to New Direction early that evening after the successful completion of the job, with an excuse that someone had to watch over the ship - but Finn and Puck both knew that it was only so he could spend a few minutes with Mercedes. Meanwhile, the two other men headed back to the bar and knocked back a couple of pints before each being pulled onto the dance floor by a woman.

At one point in the evening, Finn looked down at the woman he was dancing with - he barely remembered her name now, was it something with an R? - and marveled at the simplicity of the moment. He wasn't a smuggler or captain of a ship, he was just a man. And she, the beautiful, short, brunette woman was just that: a woman. He leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss, and she whispered in his ear, "Want to go somewhere more private?"

On the other side of the bar, Puck was pushed close to a woman with short, blonde hair. She'd refused to give her name, and he liked it better that way. Just like the woman with Finn, this woman turned on her charms and lured Puck to a room above the bar - but that was when things changed.

"I know who you are," she purred into his ear, slamming him up against a wall. "And I know exactly what you do. So," and suddenly any note of seduction was gone from her voice as she took a step back and pulled out a gun, "if you don't want me calling the feds on you, you better take me to your ship and convince me."

"Who are you?" Puck asked.

"Figures you wouldn't remember me," the woman said.

Seven years earlier when Puck was only 17 and Quinn was a bright-eyed, hopeful 15 year old, the older boy had seduced the younger girl. He'd been with a gang of his friends, traveling from planet to planet to get drugs and alcohol and have as much fun as possible without anyone watching over them. The next morning he was gone. Three months later, her stomach began to swell, and not long after that, she lost everything. After putting the child up for adoption, Quinn had trained to become one of the best bounty hunters in the system and swore revenge on Puck. Now she looked nothing like the innocent child she once had been, but she was better prepared. She wanted to strip Puck of his dignity first like he had done to her, and then she would call the feds.

Try as he might, Puck couldn't place the soft face in front of him. Quinn scowled and nudged him forward with her gun. He tried reaching for his own holster, but she was faster than him, her own reflexes not dulled by alcohol.

"Nice try," she said. "Now move."

Puck had no idea what to do. Finn was probably still somewhere with the chick he'd been hooking up with, and anyway, with Quinn so close to him, he wouldn't be able to go searching or chatting. But he didn't want to lead her to New Direction, either. So instead, he started slowly walking in a random direction, and hoped that a plan would come to him quick.

Finn and Rachel - he'd finally remembered the petite brunette's name - had decided to engage in some decidedly less exciting activities that evening. When Rachel had invited Finn somewhere private, he had not been expecting a walk in the nearby gardens, but there was something about the girl's innocence that was just so … endearing. He'd been living with his crude crew for too long, Finn decided. Rachel was a nice breath of fresh air.

"So what are you doing here on Lima?" Rachel asked. "We don't get too many travelers coming this way since it's mostly a manufacturing planet."

"I had a little business with an old friend to attend to," Finn vaguely answered. "My crew and I decided to stay the night before we take off tomorrow."

"Oh," Rachel said, obviously disappointed. "Will I ever get to see you again?"

"If business brings me back here, I'd like nothing more."

The grin that Finn got in reply to his statement motivated his next uncharacteristic and potentially dangerous action.

"Hey, here's an address that I sometimes check up on. I know it's kinda outdated and very earth-that-was, but maybe we could write?"

Rachel's eyes lit up. "It's just like in those old musicals!"

"Uh, sure."

"I'd love to. But - I'm really sorry, but my dads, they're a bit over-protective, and I have to be back home soon."

"Oh, sure. Of course."

"But I will write you. It was lovely to meet you, Finn." Rachel stood on her tiptoes so she could reach Finn's cheekbone and gave him a small kiss before hurrying off.

Deciding that his night was over too, Finn turned and headed towards New Direction.

Kurt was fiddling with the engine as Mike looked over his shoulder. He'd never learned many practical skills in his youth, but he was slowly learning.

"Now, if you ever hear her making this sort of noise," and here Kurt demonstrated a low grumbling, "it's probably coming from this piece here. It's a pretty easy fix, all you need to do it tighten her up and she'll be good to go."

"You know," Mike mused, "it's a lot like what I do. I mean, if you think of the engine as the internal organs."

"Um, sure. If it helps you to think that way, I guess so."

Kurt leaned back over the machinery and Mike looked on over his shoulder. They were in that same position ten minutes later when Finn reboarded the ship.

"Back so soon?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, I wasn't feeling up to bein' out late an' stuff."

"Well, Mercedes and Sam are 'talking' in Mercedes' bunk, but I think we all know what they're really doing. And Santana got back about half an hour ago."

"Great. Maybe we can leave earlier tomorrow morning, then. If Puck even comes home tonight."

Mike was clearly uncomfortable at the territory the conversation was about to enter, but Kurt had been living with the other two men long enough that he just laughed. "Ah, he met someone at the bar?"

"Doesn't he always?"

"You know, Finn, you look a little different tonight."

"What? How so?"

"I don't know. Just - happier, maybe? Calmer? Whatever. I'm going to patch this back up and then I'm heading to my bunk. Don't wake me unless you need to."

"Of course."

Things quieted down again as midnight approached. It seemed like New Direction's job had, for once, gone completely without hitch. But, of course, it was just the calm before the storm. Puck suddenly stumbled on the ship, followed by a woman who was holding on gun towards his head and the other out in front of her.

Seeing this, Finn jumped to action and pulled out his own weapon.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Quinn growled. "If you take one step closer to me, I'll blow your boy's brains out. So just do what I say, and then I'll be going.

"Hey, Finn, what's going o- Oh," Sam said, emerging on the main deck, closely followed by Mercedes. His words trailed off as he took in the scene in front of his eyes. "What's she want?"

"What I want," Quinn said slowly, emphasizing each word, "is whatever you've got. Anything of value. Just slide it my way, and I'll be going."

"You're going to need to put one of those guns down so you can take the stuff," Finn pointed out, trying to buy some time as he watched Mercedes scamper back into the ship, presumably to take up her position in front of the controls.

"All in due time."

"Let's just be calm and rational about this, okay? We don't need to resort to violence right now."

"I don't think you're in position to be negotiating," Quinn snapped back.

Sam stepped forward with a small crate that Finn recognized as one that was filled with some of the extra items they had taken from the warehouse that afternoon.

"Put it on the floor, blondie, and back off," Quinn ordered. Sam was quick to comply.

Quinn set down her guns, but kept them in close reach as she went to inspect her loot. Discreetly, she also sent a transmission from her pocket, alerting the feds that she had a few wanted folk. They'd be there moments after she left with her spoils.

Unbeknownst to Quinn, Kurt had quietly slipped behind her while she had still been holding the gun to Puck's head. As soon as she was in a vulnerable position, he took the opportunity. Kurt aimed a sharp kick at her midsection to slow her down, and then kicked both guns away.

In a flash, Quinn was back on her feet and aiming a sharp punch at Kurt. The lithe man was able to dodge the blow and lashed out at Quinn again. They both fell backwards over the crate, carried by the force of their blows and began wrestling for dominance on the ground. Finally, Kurt was able to overpower the deceptively strong woman, and he hovered above her.

"If you know what's best for you, you'll get off our ship and never bother us again."

Finn dragged Quinn to her feet and pushed her out of the ship before quickly raising the ramp and closing the airlock.

"Maybe we should get out of here now," he said.

Ten minutes later, the feds arrived at the spot where New Direction had been parked only moments before. They saw Quinn's bruised body and rolled their eyes.

"You know," one man said, stepping forward, "that transmitter we gave you isn't just so you can have backup when you get in your little arguments. Next false call come in and we're taking it away, got it?"

Across the city, Blaine walked nervously down a dark alleyway. He'd grown up in these dangerous streets, but it didn't make him any more comfortable there. The brick of the buildings surrounding him was so darkened by soot and smoke that they melted into the night. He turned a corner and entered a building that was lit with only a few candles.

"What do you want?" a harsh voice asked.

Blaine looked up at the man briefly before turning his head back down. Azimio Adams was the most feared man on the streets in Westerville, especially because he was friends with the mayor's son so he was basically given free reign as the mayor and his police looked the other way. In return, Azimio made sure that the only criminals working the streets were ones that reported back to him. It was corrupt, but it kept crime down.

"I - um - I have something to sell," Blaine said, voice quavering in the darkness.

"Oh? And what, pray tell, is that?"

Blaine carefully pulled the silver box from his pocket and held it out.

"Who did you steal this from, kid?"

"What - no, it's mine!" Even Blaine could tell that he was convincing no one.

"Come on, kid. If this was yours, you'd have sold it to me before when you sold everything else. So now you're going to tell me who you took this from and I'm going to decide if it's worth anything."

"Mr. Clarington."

"Clarington? You want to sell me property stolen from Clarington? You really must be out of your mind, kid. No one's going to want this if they think Clarington can trace it to them."

"Please," Blaine begged. "I'm desperate. My sister - she's getting worse. I just need enough to get her to a hospital -"

"Oh, and that won't be suspicious at all. Hows about this. I'll give you 100 credits. That's more than fair considering the trouble this is going to bring."

Blaine sadly nodded his head and accepted the deal, knowing better than to argue with the large man.

The next morning, Blaine bundled his sister up and walked with her to the doctor in the center of the town. The doctor admitted her to the small clinic and promised to treat her as best as he could. Blaine's 100 credits barely paid for it, but it was enough.

New Direction landed smoothly on McKinley several hours before they had planned to. The exhausted crew took a few hours to finally rest before bringing the cargo to Sue. The woman was just as pleasant as she usually was - which was not at all. She shouted at them for being late with the drop (they were early) and refused to pay them in full. Not wanting to get into another fight in such a short period of time, Finn accepted the money without argument and went back to the ship to pay his crew.