Second Date

"You live on a houseboat! You live on a houseboat! Why didn't I know about this? This is so cool," Sugar squealed with excitement and ran inside, disappearing into the depths of the boat.

"I'm sorry about her," said Santana, standing on the floating pontoon with her shiny new girlfriend with Brittany's boat tethered next to them.

"It's fine," Brittany chuckled. "I was just as excited when I first saw it. Do you like it?" She asked hopefully as Santana looked over the catamaran twin hulled river cruiser.

"It's amazing, Britt. I love it."

"The water makes it hard for people to creep up without getting wet. Or caught. There are all sorts of sensors, waters a great conductor." Brittany hopped onto the deck then reached her hand out to assist Santana in stepping onto the boat. Once aboard neither of them let go of the other's hand. Brittany opened a steel door and led Santana into a large open space used as the main living area.

"It's like an apartment on water," Sugar's head popped up randomly from the floor like a whack-a-mole from what turned out to be stairs leading down to a lower deck.

"I'd like you both to meet my tech guy," Brittany waved her free hand towards a wooden desk upon which sat a laptop hooked up via many tangled cables to some black boxes emitting flashing lights and whirring noises. "This is Lord Tubbington."

"Are... you talking about the cat sitting next to the laptop?" Santana asked, tilting her head to the side like a curious puppy while Sugar ran over to scratch behind his ears.

"Of course I am," Brittany grinned. "I don't see anyone else here. He's a tech whizz and big time hacker, what he doesn't know about technological subterfuge isn't worth knowing. Plus, no one ever suspects the cat."

"How does he type without any fingers?" Santana stared at the cat with reluctant respect.

"Shhh," Brittany tugged Santana closer and murmured quietly. "He doesn't like his methods questioned."

"Okay," Santana slipped an arm around Brittany's waist. "So when can I see the bedroom?"

"Why, Ms Lopez. Not before the third date, at least."

"What, seriously?"

Brittany giggled and pulled Santana flush against her, hip to hip breast to breast. "Hi."

"Hi," she breathed back. "I wish we knew each other earlier. So we'd have spent more time together already."

"Ahem." They turned their heads keeping their heads touching to look at Sugar standing watching them, eyebrows raised, with Lord Tubbington tucked under her arm. "We are here to work. So cut that out, you two."

Reluctantly the women untangled themselves and sat down around the large desk. Brittany pulled out a roll of paper from under the desk and unfurled a large technical drawing. Before she could say anything Sugar interrupted.

"Lord Tubbington and I have been talking and we've agreed that we don't want to be called the 'Tech Guys' any more. He's 'Lord and Master of the Technological Highway' and I am 'Director of Communications', or just 'The Director' for short. It'll look better on my resume."

"Director of- You patched into an open-" Santana spluttered. "I'm not..." she sighed then muttered to herself. "Let it go. Sure, Sug's. You just call yourself whatever."

"Do thieves have resumes?" Sugar asked.

"I think they're called criminal records. Please rescue me from this conversation, Brittany," Santana pleaded.

"So," Brittany said with a chuckle. "You know how you said that Starry Night is your favourite Van Gogh painting? I did a thing. How much do you want that painting?"

"I don't. That's the thing. It's my favourite but, it shouldn't belong to me. It's a pure masterpiece and the whole world should be able to see it."

"Oh-kay..." Brittany and Sugar exchanged a glance. "Well, here's a funny thing because, I already stole it."

"You what now?"

"Aww," Sugar muttered. Brittany and Santana looked over at her. "I was looking forward to stealing it. We could be shopping right now instead. LT wants a diamond studded collar."

Santana gave her a bemused look. "How do you know that?"

"Well, duh, it's obvious. Who wouldn't?"

Out of the corner of her eye Santana could see Brittany nodding in agreement.

"Well you seemed really excited about going to the exhibition," Brittany began wringing her hands anxiously.

"Yes, with you," Santana reached over and squeezed Brittany's hands gently. "We don't have to steal anything every time we go on a date."

"I didn't want you to get distracted again. I don't want you to go to prison. I mean, you were so cute getting the diamonds. Like when you stick your tongue out when you're concentrating really hard, it's adorable. So I-"

"You stole me a painting because I said I liked it?"

Sugar rolled her eyes as Santana's eyes glazed over and she gazed at Brittany with adoration.

"Yes, but-"

"That's so romantic."

"I'm glad you think so because then I put it back," Brittany gulped, worried she'd screwed this date up before it had even begun.

"You stole a painting and then put it back? I'm getting confused."

"Yes, because I had a better idea. And I tweeted you and Sugar said that's what you'd say about everyone being able to see it."

"She did? Wait, we have Twitter?"

"Hello, Director of Communications here," Sugar emphasised the communications part while pointing to herself with both hands. "Do you know Quinn follows us? Uh, no. Forget I said that."

Brittany took Santana by both hands and took a deep steadying breath.

"Santana, will you do me the honour of accompanying me to the VIP charity gala of the Van Gogh exhibition this weekend to see your painting? And it is yours, because I stole it for you... And then put it back because you want everyone to be able to see it. But know that it is yours."

Sugar rolled her eyes as Santana giggled and said, "I would love to."

"Even though the FBI will be watching every move," Sugar interrupted the googly eyes going on in front of her.

"Quinn will think were going to steal something," Brittany snapped out of her Santana induced haze. "So, let her think that while we have a good night. She really shouldn't arrest people when they're in the middle of a date. I didn't like that." Brittany's face darkened into an expression neither Santana or Sugar had witnessed before the complete opposite of her usually sunny disposition.

"These are the blueprints for the art museum." Brittany explained the papers she had rolled out previously. "Exits are located here here and here. Fire exits and alarm stations are here. We need to work out the security detail for the event. Lord Tubbington already got us unofficial genuine tickets. We are good to go."

"What about the paintings?" Santana asked. "Quinn will be expecting us from when they arrive in the country until the second they leave."

"Quinn will be paranoid so no matter what we do she'll think we're going to steal them. But I thought you might like it if... never mind. It'll be a surprise. Let's just say Lord Tubbington knows a guy who knows a guy and we did a thing."

"You did a thing with a guy?" Santana looked mildly stricken.

"Not like that!" Brittany protested. "I only want to do the thing with you," she smirked leaning in drawn to Santana's pouty lips.

Sugar began to tap away on the tablet laid on the table top between her and Lord Tubbington. "I want a pay rise," Sugar sighed as her boss and Brittany locked lips in front of her. "We need to work out what we would do to protect the paintings then half the amount of genius and effort that would take to get the FBI standards."

"Fabray is sharp as a tack we also need to factor in her unpredictable temper tantrums," Santana's voice was muffled by Brittany's lips.

"This is going to be some much fun," Sugar giggled as she worked away at the tablet. "Oooh, lets add some false alarms as well just to piss her off. And intercept their comms. Oh my god, someone should wear some diamonds. She will flip a shit."

"So I was thinking," Brittany sat back all of a sudden. "These dates are awesome. First diamonds and then paintings. What do you want to do next?"

"Well, we've done 40 million worth of diamonds, 100 millions worth of paintings," Santana mused.

"What about drugs? They're like, billions."

"Gross, Sugar. Drugs are tacky as hell. How about something priceless?"

"Like what?" Brittany asked.

"You. You stole my heart in the first second I saw you. I'm going to steal you away to a deserted beach and lay you down in the sand and-"

They both ignored the gagging noise coming from Sugar's vicinity. Sugar looked away from the kissing scene to Lord Tubbington.

"I've a feeling this is going to happen a lot from now on. Want to order pizza?" He blinked at her. "No anchovies on my side though." She scratched his ears and he purred contentedly. "How do you get your fur that soft? You can tell me your secret. We've got our own tech union now."

Art Museum on date night

"FBI, freeze!"

FBI Special Agent Rachel Berry tried to hold up her badge and gun at the same time, dropping both in the process, as she attempted to arrest the door to the security office in the Art Museum. It was fortunate that she didn't have her gun in her hand as the door opened without a knock and she jumped in fright.

"I got you falafel," said Quinn as she pushed the door open with her fine ass, her arms full of papers and a large take-out bag.

"Thank you, Quinn. That's very thoughtful of you," said her partner, overly cheerily as she tried to casually pick her gun off the floor.

"Uh, you're welcome," Quinn eyed her curiously but thought it better not to ask. "What's the latest?"

"Nothing to report. Not even someone suspicious or in disguise."

"You sound disappointed. How would you know if someone was in disguise?"

"I can tell when someone's nose is fake. It's like my superpower," Rachel said with a cocky smile.

"Ahem, okay," Quinn rubbed her own nose discretely. "Well, anyway. This is the last night of the exhibition. They'll make their move tonight, I'm sure of it." Quinn scanned the monitors Rachel had been watching. "Puckerman, report in."

~Nothing to report.~ Puckerman's voice came in over the comm. ~Museums are boring as hell~

"Where's Hudson?"

~Oh uh, he went to the... bathroom~

"Again? That's not even possible, he would be in hospital if he had to go that often. Where is he really?"

~He's in the little shop~ Came Puck's reluctant reply.

"Rachel, I thought I told you not to put him near the café or the shop, he's too easily distracted. I bet he's playing with plastic dinosaurs as we speak. Why did you move him?" Quinn demanded.

"He has a direct view of the main entrance now. And he asked so nicely, he was really cute about it," Rachel answered hopefully.

"Exactly, now he's in view of the entrance. What if Santana sees him? She'll probably shoot him with his own taser."

"Rather that than a real gun."

"That's why he's banned from carrying a gun. In case she shoots him with it!"

~I'm bored.~ Sugar whined into her headset. To her displeasure she was shut up in the back of a van which smelled like it had spent a previous life as a burger van before Santana had bought it at an auction. Santana and Sugar at an auction, now that's a tale for another day. She was monitoring the event from the street behind the impressive old building hosting the art museum.

~You're supposed to be pretending to do re-con. Santana. Stop staring at Brittany's ass.~

"I cant help it, my eyes are drawn to it like a moth to a flame," Santana drooled. "This isn't re-con. This is annoying Quinn con."

~In that case, I'm going shopping~

"No, you cant! You have to keep an eye on the Fumbling Bureau of Incompetent fuckups," Santana hissed into the mic hidden in her bracelet. She prayed no one was looking or she'd look very strange talking to herself while Brittany was off getting them drinks.

~They're not doing anything. Hudson's playing dinosaurs with some kids, Puckerman's chatting up some museum lady. She's got the librarian look going on, it's kinda hot~

"Focus, Sugar."

~And Quinn and the loud one are eating what looks like fossilised animal droppings. LT is playing online poker~

"Don't you dare desert your post, Motta."

~I'm not. I'm simply opening a window to another world. A better world. An electronic shopping world. To ebay. Ohmygod vintage Prada handbag. Time runs out in thirteen minutes, I have to have it! That's it, I'm using the company credit card~

"What company credit card? We don't have a- Hey wait, are you in my purse? Shit. Don't you buy anything."

~This is an emergency, Santana. It's in mint condition~ Sugar squealed. ~Mint condition. I must make it mine~

"What's happening?" asked Brittany as she returned to her date with two glasses of champagne. "You look like you're arguing with your hand."

"That's coming out of your pay," Santana said into her mic than smiled at Brittany and took the proffered drink. "Thanks. Oh, Sugar is testing me. The kid is hard work sometimes."

"You love her really," Brittany smiled at her.

~I heard that. Yes, she does!~ Came the voice over their comm., much to Brittany's amusement.

"Santana," said Brittany waving over a handsome young man with a twinkle in his eye. "I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. Santana, this is Mike Chang and over there buttering up the suits is his wife Tina. They're what you could call...art enthusiasts."

"How did they get in there? I didn't see them arrive." Quinn watched the monitor in amazement, and as always, suspicion, as Santana exchanged pleasantries with the stranger. "Find out who he is," she ordered Rachel.

"But there they are, lets go get them!" Rachel jumped up, chomping at the bit to arrest them... In front of all those rich powerful people. She would march in there calling for calm while laying down the law and-

"No wait, Rachel." Quinn's voice snapped her out of her Super Agent fantasy. "They're not doing anything but looking sickeningly in love."

The muscles in Quinn's jaw clenched as Santana blew the security camera a kiss from where it was watching, eagle eyed, as the couple moved from picture to picture admiring the amazing artwork.

"If they're not going to steal anything I can at the very least give them a caution for over zealous PDA on the verge of indecent exposure. Did you see where Suspect Pierce just put her hand?" Rachel squeaked, outraged. "You cant even see it!"

"Rachel, don't you dare-" The door slammed shut. Quinn groaned as she saw Rachel had left her badge and gun behind on the desk in her enthusiasm.

"Oh god, no," Santana hid her face in Brittany's neck at the sight of the oncoming blustering Agent.

"Who are you?" Brittany asked, holding Santana close to her protectively.

Before Rachel could open her mouth to speak Santana cut her off.

"Agent Booby, also known as Rachel Berry. Are you aware you're impersonating a federal Agent? You're too short to be a fed. I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Don't you usually save that kinky dressing up shit for behind closed doors with Quinn?"

"Agent Fabray and I do not have that kind of- What business is it of yours?"

"Rachel!" Quinn appeared from the side and grabbed Rachel by the arm.

"Quinnie the Pooh. What a complete and utter shocking occurrence to find you here," Santana said smoothly with a smirk. "You'll be no doubt infuriated to know we're leaving now and as your no doubt suspicious mind is working overtime, allow me to show you that we are not concealing any paintings." She did a twirl in her tight and revealing dress which hid nothing to the imagination and certainly not any paintings. "You wanna frisk me?" Santana smirked.

"Where did you get those diamonds?" Rachel blurted out, referring to the sparkling necklace around Brittany's neck.

"Santana gave them to me," Brittany grinned. "You like them, Quinn?"

Quinn growled and pulled Rachel away. She took a quick look at the paintings all accounted for hanging on the walls with hundreds of people milling around looking at them. "This isn't over, Santana."

"By no means."

Back in the van Sugar yelped as she got a smack around the back of the head and pouted unhappily as she watched Santana snap her own credit card in half.

"Wait, I still have your surprise for you." Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and pulled her onto her lap. "Are you ready?" Santana nodded happily.

"Hit it, Tubbs," said Sugar over the comm to Lord Tubbington back at the houseboat.

The gang watched with interest at the live feed coming from inside the museum as the fire alarm started up.

~The fire system is malfunctioning~

Frantic chatter from the museum staff could be heard over Quinn and Rachel's feed.

~Get everyone out~

"How is it malfunctioning?" Rachel asked Quinn as they watched the guests exit hurriedly, trying not to trip over their fancy clothes. The agents had to remain and guard the paintings until the last possible second before they burnt to a crisp.

"There are shutters which come down to cover the paintings. They must be stuck. They're fire retardant and water res-"

The sprinklers burst into action and sprayed everything with a surface area.

"They stop the sprinklers from reaching the artwork," Quinn finished with a whisper as water trickled down every object in the room, including the exhibition.

"Save the paintings," Rachel screamed and threw herself at Van Gogh's self portrait. "Quinn look!"

"Sugar, I want screen shots of every single moment of this," Santana cackled with glee.

"What is it?" Quinn asked.

"Paint... the paint is coming off the picture!"

"Let me see that... what? How? … They're fakes!" The blood could be seen draining from Quinn's face even through the hacked security feed.

"Fakes... Director Sylvester is going to murder us and hide our bodies." Rachel let a huge broken sob. "I'm too talented to die."

Quinn looked around for Santana and Brittany but they were long gone along with the crowd of people who had been quickly evacuated by more competent members of museum staff. She watched in dismay as the paint on every single picture began to run, the colours dripping over the frames and down the walls.
Death would be too good for those two. Maybe Quinn could murder them, bury them, dig them up again, bring them back to life then murder them again.

"Wait!" Rachel screeched in Quinn's ear rudely shaking her from her daydream. "There's more paint underneath. Another layer. What's... happening?"

They watched as under the unrelenting spray of water the paintings which had turned from originals to fakes now turned back to the originals as the paint washed away revealing the underlying original masterpieces.

"Ooooh," Rachel breathed out in awe.

Quinn began to breathe again as the situation in front of her began to sink in. The relief she felt was eclipsed by shaking fury as she spluttered with incandescent rage.

"Those sons of sly, conniving, cheating, lying, two faced, no good, manipulative, thieving-"

In the back alley behind the museum the van shook as Santana rocked with laughter at the array of expressions running across Quinn's face. "Britt," she gasped through tears of laughter. "Britt, you're an evil genius. I love you."

Brittany wiped away Santana's tears and sat staring at the woman on her lap, stunned by her words. Santana almost didn't seem to realise what she had said as she began to hiccup from laughing so much. Brittany hugged Santana tighter to her where they still sat on the same seat, Santana with one arm around Brittany's neck holding herself steady.

Sugar smirked into her microphone. "Okay LT. Turn off the fire shizzle. The job is done."

Inside the museum the alarm stopped blaring, the lights stopped flashing and the sprinklers stopped spraying.

"Damn," Rachel, whispered reverently. She stood next to a now silent Quinn, both staring at the Van Gogh collection looking down at them from the walls in pristine condition. "They're good."

Water could be heard dripping everywhere. Rachel wiped the drops from her face and tried to wring out her shirt. It was all Quinn could do to blink away the water drops from her eyelashes.

"Agent Fabray?" An unlucky rookie had got the job of approaching the almost catatonic agent. He hesitantly made his way over to the Agent who was staring at Starry Night with murder in her eyes. "There was a note for you at the front desk."

Quinn pushed her soaked hair back off her face water dripped down onto the piece of paper in her hand. 2-0, it read. She scrunched it up in her fist and threw it at the approaching Agent Puckerman.

"What happened this time?" she sighed with exhaustion at the sight in front of her.

Puck shifted the dead weight in his arms and coughed. "Umm, found him unconscious in a cubicle in the bathroom. He's been tasered." When there was no response from Quinn for more than sixty seconds Puck asked, "Umm, Quinn- I mean, Agent Fabray, are you okay?"

"This is the worst night of my life."

Puck wisely kept quiet as Quinn came over to help him, taking the unconscious Finn Hudson's other arm and helping Puck carry him outside. On Finn's face, in black marker pen, someone had drawn a crude penis on his forehead, given him two black eyes and a Hitler moustache.

"Your report made absolutely no sense whatsoever. I do not speak Hebrew, Berry. Someone explain, in English this time."

"Well, you see, Director-"

Director Sylvester held up her palm for silence. "I've heard more than enough from you, Agent Berry. Fabray, make it good."

"Lopez was at the VIP event. And that's it. She didn't do anything that we saw but it turned out the whole time the paintings had been compromised."

"Are you telling me that these women intercepted the paintings before they got here, painted over them so they'd look like the real ones pretending to be fake when they were actually real the whole time, put them back and then came to the opening and did nothing but wind you up?"

"That sounds about right, I think."

"Although, we don't have any evidence it was them," Rachel added hesitantly, fidgeting under the dark look Quinn gave her.

Director Sylvester exchanged a look with her assistant who rolled her eyes and looked disgusted. "There are serious threats to our nation every day. People are killed, murdered, jailed, harmed, abused and these women are playing with my agents! Why does Lopez have it in for you?"

"I ruined her date."

"The only reason you are not inspecting the sewers for suspicious activity right now is because those paintings were not actually stolen."

"Yes, Director Sylvester," Quinn murmured faintly.

"Fabray, get those women in my office by this time next week or I will have all your heads on pikes at the entrance to this building and use that as a deterrent against crime and it will be more effective than your results so far!"

"Yes, Director Sylvester."

Santana snorted as she cut out an article from the newspaper. The caption under the main photograph read: 'Hero Agent Thwarts Art Thieves'

In the accompanying photo a bedraggled looking and thoroughly miserable Agent Quinn Fabray stood next to Van Gogh's Starry Night'.

"Put that up on the wall, Sugar loaf. That's one for the wall of shame."