Santana and Cara pushed through the crowd, the music pulsing all around them. They were in a small field, a stage set up at one end and metal tree like sculptures around the perimeter. Flames shot out of the top of each of them in time with the beat and smoke leaked out of the trunks, lending the makeshift arena an ethereal feel.
"Hey ladies." A creepy middle aged guy popped up in front of them and held up two joints. "A little gift for you. From Weyland. Enjoy the show."
He handed them over and disappeared into the crowd. Santana turned to Cara and raised an eyebrow.
"I think it's safe to say he knows we're here." Cara pointed out.
"Oh well," Santana shrugged. "May as well just do as the man says then." She pulled out a lighter and sparked up.
"Cool." Cara followed suit and together they turned to the stage and watched the show. "So. What's the plan?"
Santana looked over at her questioningly.
"When we meet Weyland. What's the plan? We don't exactly have much to trade for them."
Santana shrugged. "We'll figure something out."
Cara snorted. "Yeah, cos that went so well last time, right?"
"This is Weyland, not Sebastian." She took a drag and turned back to the stage. "His motivations are much clearer."
"Well." Cara smirked. "You're the boss, boss."
"And don't you forget it." She smiled.
They stood there in silence for a while, letting the music wrap around them, enjoying the feel of the crowd. Cara thought back to the last time she had smoked. It was about a month before everything fell apart. She and Santana had been out with some of the Cheerios when they had come across a bunch of guys too stupid or too stoned to know not to mess with them. The other girls had kicked the crap out of them and taken whatever they had, handing it all over to Santana, of course. She had kept hold of one of the bags and given the rest back to the girls, warning them not to let Quinn know they were high, then the two of them had snuck up to the roof. In hindsight it was the calm before the storm. She wondered if Santana was thinking the same.
"So, you and Puck, huh?" Santana asked, breaking her reverie.
"Shut up."
"Oh, come on!" Santana shoved her gently. "You have to tell me what's going on. It's not like if you tell me I might accidentally let it slip and get the two of you killed, right?"
Cara glared at her and kept quiet.
"Alright, look." Santana turned fully to face her. "You don't have to tell me anything. Just, you know. I'm here if you want to. S'all I'm saying." She took a drag and blew the smoke straight into Cara's face before shooting her a huge smile.
"Bitch." Cara laughed and coughed at the same time, waving the smoke away. "It's just...Puck is...you know, it's all just really new. And different." She finished softly. Her head dropping slightly.
"Yeah, I know." Santana squeezed her shoulder gently. "I guess I'm just...well, I just want to see you happy again, you know? After Dev…"
"Alright, I get it." Cara snapped and shrugged her hand off. "Yay! Cara's finally getting some action again! It's only taken her four years to get over the murder of her ex. Can we drop it now?"
"Hey." Santana frowned at her slightly before softening her expression and continuing gently. "Look, I'm sorry. I just meant...well, I worry about you, 'kay? Just don't, you know, tell anyone."
"Please," Cara tried to smile, her buzz effectively ruined. "As if everyone doesn't already know what an enormous wuss you are."
"Whatever. I'm a badass and everyone can kiss my ass."
"Yeah, right." She snorted. "It's totally badass when you look at Rachel with those adorable puppy dog eyes. You have people quaking in their boots when they see the pair of you together. It's actually terrifying how loved up you are."
"Shut up." Santana elbowed her, looking completely embarrassed. "I can still smack you all down if I wanted to."
"Aw, so cute."
"Woah!" She snapped, glaring at her. "Too far, Cara. Too fucking far."
Cara laughed. "Aw, what's the matter? Does big, bad Santana Lopez not..."
"Don't fucking call me that!" Santana spun round and shoved her roughly, the tip of her joint burning her upper arm.
"What the fuck?" Cara glared at her and rubbed her arm.
"Ladies." Creepy guy draped an arm over each of their shoulders. "Mr Weyland will see you now. Follow me."
Santana's eyes softened and she rubbed Cara's arm gently as she pushed past. "Come on, let's get this over with."
Cara turned and followed her through the crowd. What the fuck had that all been about? Santana had always been a major league bitch but she had never actually hit her before. As if she could feel eyes on her Santana glanced back over her shoulder and frowned slightly. Something was going on with her, Cara could feel it. She was too close to the edge for comfort, and they needed her to be in control. If Santana went postal they were all dead, and going up against Sue when she wasn't a hundred per cent? Well, that was just suicide.
"Ladies!" Weyland greeted them warmly as they entered the trailer at the back of the field. "So lovely to see you again. I take it this meeting will be more productive than the last?"
"Well that depends on you, Weyland." Santana chuckled. "You going to set your dogs on me again?"
"You know I had a good reason for that." He smiled tightly and rubbed his moustache. "So, what do you have for me?"
"Information."
"What kind?"
"About Sue Sylvester. About where she's getting her supplies from."
Cara shot her a sideways glance.
Weyland chuckled and folded his hands in front of himself. "I already know where she gets her supplies from. Everyone knows that."
"Hmm," Santana smiled up at him, a glint in her eyes. "Well, what if I told you that I was out front of her place yesterday and saw a van leaving." Cara's stare got a little more blatant at this statement. There would definitely be a discussion around that revelation later. "A black van with a red symbol on it. Kind of like a little cog?"
Weyland's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."
Santana shrugged. "Get your boys to check it out if you don't believe me. It was around 3am. I doubt she'll be needing another one til...Thursday?"
He turned and spoke briefly to one of his men. The guy shrugged and turned to the laptop set up on the table next to him. The pair of them huddled over it and concentrated on whatever he was pulling up on the screen.
"Zoom in on that." Weyland said, pointing at something. The guy tapped on the keypad and Weyland punched the table. "That little japanese prick."
Santana crossed her arms and glanced at Cara. Cara pulled her hands into fists, knowing this was going one of two ways.
"Risky move, that. You show up quite clearly on her cameras." Weyland turned back to them. "I'm impressed. What exactly were you hoping to achieve, I wonder?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Santana smirked. "So, you going to give me what I asked for now?"
He looked at her with an amused expression. "Do you know, I believe I will. David. Get the ladies what they came here for. Please."
The guy from the laptop walked out of the trailer and Weyland sat on the edge of the table, folding his arms and eyeing her suspiciously.
"You know, Ms Cruz, usually I would ask for a great deal more when handing over a cache of this value but I find myself intrigued by you."
"Yeah," Santana scoffed. "I get that a lot recently."
"Yes, I bet." He stroked his moustache again and eyed her appreciatively. "You know how Sue Sylvester feels about people being near her compound. Do you really think she didn't notice?"
"She'd have to find me first." She shrugged.
"Hmm. Or she could just pay someone a large amount of money to bring you in?"
David returned, his large form filling the doorway. Santana glanced at him but her expression stayed neutral.
"That's a good point, British." She said evenly. "Let's just hope she's not that interested, huh?"
"Yes," Weyland smiled. "That would be very unfortunate. For you. To have people looking for you, digging into your past. You might as well paint a target on your back. Right?"
"Right." She smiled. "Fortunately there's not that much to find out."
"Hmm. Your request would suggest otherwise." He gestured to David who walked fully into the room with two kit bags and handed them over to them.
"Just a bitch who doesn't like getting dumped is all." She shrugged, opening up her bag and checking out her prize.
"The contents of that bag suggest a little more than that," Weyland smirked. "But, just to be on the safe side, remind me never to dump you."
"Please." She shot him a withering look. "You're not really my type, Dr Who."
"Pity." He smiled, standing up and offering his hand. "A pleasure doing business with you, Ms Cruz. Enjoy your vendetta. No doubt we will meet again."
"God, I hope not." She replied, shaking his hand. "No offence."
"None taken. David, show the ladies out would you?"
Cara tugged the bag onto her shoulder and followed the guy out and back through the crowd. She said nothing until they had reached the exit and were walking towards Santana's bike.
"So, you want to tell me what the fuck you were doing at Sue's compound? Other than trying to get yourself killed?"
"Pipe down, Red." Santana snapped, grabbing her helmet and shoving the other towards Cara. "It got us what we needed, didn't it?"
"But you had no way of knowing that when you went out there. Alone. If you had gotten caught…"
"But I didn't."
"But you could have. If Rachel knew…"
"Hey!" Santana grabbed her coat, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Rachel doesn't know, and she doesn't need to. Ever."
"You know," Cara grabbed her wrists and pulled them roughly from her jacket. "That's the second time in an hour that you've put your hands on me and I'm officially not a fan. What's up with you?"
"Nothing." Santana scowled and shoved her helmet on. "I'm fine. Get on."
Cara stayed where she was, holding the helmet in front of her. Santana swung her leg over the bike and kicked the stand up. After a few seconds she seemed to notice Cara hadn't moved and looked back at her.
"What the hell are you doing? Get on the bike."
"We need you, Santana." She said quietly. "So even if you don't want to talk about it you need to figure it out, fast, and get your head in the fucking game." She pulled her helmet on and jumped on the bike, angling her hands round the kit bag on her back to grab hold of the handle as Santana started up the engine and headed home.