Chapter Pairings/Characters: Brittany/Santana, Quinn, Rachel, Kurt Hummel, Puck, Mercedes Jones, several OC's, pseudo-Ellen, pseudo_Portia, others mentioned
Important Note: Although this is not a RPF - The characters of Ellen and Portia are fictional characters based on real people. But other than names, occupations, and relationships, they are basically OC's and are not intended to be accurate representations of real persons, living or dead.
Word Count: 5,202 ( 2 of 9 )
Her show's opening theme playing in the background, Ellen hummed happily to herself as she danced into the audience and back. "Next week we're going to the beach!" she said excitedly, to cheers from her audience. "And not just any beach. Portia and I have been invited down to Cancun! These lovely ladies have invited us to introduce them to the world," she said, as pictures of Brittany, Santana, and Quinn in their Clan uniforms, and Rachel in the colorful, traditional Clan dress of a Memory, serious expressions on their faces, flashed by on the large screen behind her.
"We can't take you with us, you won't fit in our carry-ons," she said sadly, "but they've sent along traditional Mayan scarves and hats for everyone." The audience started cheering louder, as the show cut to a commercial. As soon as the cameras were off, a dozen interns and assistants rolled out large boxes and started handing out colorful woven scarves and hats to everyone.
Holding out her hand, Ellen gestured off-stage. The music came back on and Ellen danced over, out of view of the cameras, reappearing with Portia, waltzing her around the bright chaos her set had become, before plopping her down next to Ellen's chair.
"Excited?" Ellen asked, her eyes twinkling in that way of hers that was somewhere between childish glee and madness.
Portia smiled tightly. "Anywhere you go, I will follow," she sang softly.
"They're a cute bunch," Ellen said. "Can you believe they're aliens?"
"Hopefully, they're also fans," Portia said.
"They'll love us," Ellen said in a low voice, straightening her jacket, finishing just as the set lights brightened and the music died down. "Welcome back to the show," she said to the camera. "Next up, we thought we'd take you along as we go shopping for beachwear."
"Hey Kurt, what can I get you?" Puck asked, wiping the bar in front of him. "Surprise me," he said. He'd made a few extra dollars on the new line of makeup the cosmetic company he worked for between acting jobs was pushing. It was supposed to match the colors that the alien women supposedly wore, though it looked like the usual Chinese knock-offs to his expert eye. Hopefully he'd have a real job elsewhere before someone sued the company out of existence for the poor quality.
"A good week?" Puck asked, putting a tall glass down on the bar and picking up a bottle of Kurt's favorite liqueur.
"Not bad," Kurt said. "Could you turn that up?" He pointed at the TV at the end of the bar. It was showing one of the shuttles the aliens used to zip around in when they ventured out of their enclave in Mexico. He'd read on one of the gossip blogs that all of the aliens were women. Not a single male alien had been sighted. Shaking his head, he wondered who in the company had that territory, and if he could get a piece of it. The blaring TV caused him to jump.
[Speaking excitedly off camera, a loud reporter narrated as video of the alien shuttle landing at Camp David, and the aliens walking away from it in the distance, played in a loop.]
"Today, the President of the United States met with representatives of the Mayan Apocalypse aliens at Camp David. No details of their talks have emerged but the White House characterized them as a meaningful step forward. This is only the first official meeting between the aliens and the White House, though rumors have been swirling around for the last month that the White House has been in contact with them since they landed and set up their enclave on the Yucatan peninsula.
No word, as yet on when they plan to release any foreign nationals trapped in Cancun when the area was annexed. Or when vacationers can return to the beaches of Cancun. A communications blackout is still in effect across the entire area.
In other news, the aliens are scheduled to appear on a series of extra special Ellen shows next week. Join us nightly for the post show analysis. But first, a special report on the effect the sudden appearance of the aliens is having on the world economy."
"Oh my God!" Kurt said, staring at the TV. "Puck! Have you seen this?" He pointed at the TV.
"It's just the news," Puck said, as he wiped another glass.
"Who does that look like?" Kurt asked, pointing at the women on the TV.
"Two hot alien chicks," Puck said, briefly looking up before putting the glass away.
"They don't look familiar?" Kurt asked. "At all?"
"Nope," Puck said, as he continued to work his way through the glasses.
"You're no help!" Kurt muttered. Pulling out his phone, he quickly hit 1 on his speed dial.
"Mercedes! Are you near a TV?" Kurt asked quickly.
"Dammit, Kurt! I'm at work," Mercedes said, over 90's pop blaring in the background.
"Find a TV," he said. "Now, please."
"Hold on!" she said. "Got it," she said breathlessly, several rushed minutes later. "Now what?"
"Find a news channel," Kurt said.
"Okay," she said. "They're all showing some boring alien footage," she added in a puzzled voice.
"Good, good," he said. "Look really close. Do any of those aliens look familiar?"
"One's short, dressed in some kind of tacky alien dress. The other is rockin' a catsuit better than ScarJo as the Black Widow. And there are a couple others looking like refugees from some cartoon."
"Do they look familiar?" Kurt repeated. "Look really closely at the short one."
"No way!" Mercedes said. "I knew I was right. Jacob always claimed they was kidnapped by aliens."
"I think we need to take a trip down to Cancun, as soon as they open back up," Kurt said.
"Do we tell anyone?" she asked. "This time?"
"Definitely not," Kurt said, remembering the negative reaction the week before when Mercedes had called everyone claiming one of the aliens was Rachel Berry. "This is our scoop."
"Gotcha," Mercedes said. "I need to get back to work. Tomorrow at the Lima Bean? Usual table?"
"Tomorrow," Kurt agreed before hanging up.
"Cancun? I can do that," Puck said, smirking. "Hot alien babes. The Puckster is all over that."
"That was a private conversation," Kurt said, frowning at him.
Smirking, Puck pointed at a sign over the bar. It read 'This is a bar, not your home. Everyone can hear you.' "So, when are we leaving?" he asked.
"Argh!" Kurt banged his head on the bar. "You're paying your own way," he said.
"Got that covered," Puck said, holding up his phone. "Hey Artie!" he shouted into the phone. "You still planning on a show down in Cancun about the Apocalypse? No, it's still good. We've got an in. One of those aliens is the spitting image of Brittany. I bet she was already an alien. She'll talk with us. She was always a sucker for the Puckster. I'll get back to you on travel and stuff," he said, before hanging up. "There. All set."
"Brittany, if that is Brittany, isn't going to help," Kurt said. Puck just continued to smirk at him. Kurt took out his smartphone. "So, three of us and Artie and his camera crew. We'll need a large bus."
"Four and Artie," Puck said. "My bro Finn is coming with us."
"Why?" Kurt asked.
"He's still got a thing for Berry," Puck said. "He used to have her wrapped around his finger. If it's her, we've definitely got an in. And beaches and hot babes and gold. He's my bro. I can't leave him behind to miss all of that."
"Wasn't it the other way around?" Kurt said. "She had him wrapped around her fingers. And there's no gold. The Spanish got it all."
"Sure there's gold. Don't all aliens have tons of it? So they can buy slaves on every planet they visit?"
"Where do you get your ideas from," Kurt asked in disgust. "There's no gold. And that sounds like the plot to one of those SyFy Playboy B-movies."
"So it must be true," Puck said, laughing at his outraged expression. "If it's Berry and the Cheerios, they aren't gonna be happy to see us," Puck said, becoming serious for a moment. "If they're brainwashed they'll try to kill us. Or Satan will kill us for ruining their scam if they aren't."
"No one is killing anyone," Kurt said. "We're just going to visit some old school friends and check out the scene."
"And the hot alien babes," Puck said.
"I'll leave them all to you and Finn," Kurt said.
"We've got that covered," Puck said, grinning.
"Impressive," Ellen said, looking at the half dozen alien women meeting her and Portia outside the Miami airport. From there they would travel by some mysterious alien method to Cancun. But right now she was unable to stop looking at their escort, several of whom were dressed in the armor suits that everyone was talking about. "All this for us?"
"If you would come with us, Lady Ellen, Lady Portia," one of them, a tall blonde, said. "Our vehicle is waiting. Your luggage has already been loaded."
"She called me a Lady," Ellen whispered to her wife, with a wide grin. "I like these people."
Portia shook her head, muttering "It's going to be a long week," in a low voice to herself.
Together, Ellen tugging her forward, they followed their escort towards a side exit, away from the curious crowds.
"Welcome aboard," a short, dark skinned woman said, standing in the entrance of the odd looking vehicle. "As soon as you're seated we can leave."
"This is so amazing," Ellen said, bouncing in her seat. "A trip to the beach in a spaceship. With a model crew."
"You'll be staying in one of our beachside huts," the woman said. "We'll take you to your accommodations and an escort will be provided from there to your meeting with the Council after you've had time to freshen up."
"Excellent," Ellen said, leaning back in her seat, her eyes taking in everything, one hand gripping Portia's nearest.
Meeting the alien leaders later that afternoon, Ellen was all business, much to Portia's relief. The aliens hadn't allowed Ellen to bring any of her crew so Portia expected to spend the week keeping her wife on task, something that was hard enough to do in their private life.
"So, we'll need to see the studio, and I'd like to meet the crew," Ellen said. "And I'd like to spend some time getting to know you before we record anything. Likes, dislikes, anything you want to tell me. We usually film 4 hours of material and trim it down to an hour broadcast. I have some ideas but suggestions are welcome."
"So, five days? That's twenty hours. What kinds of things did you have in mind?" the short brunette said, who'd been introduced as Lady Memory.
"Well, Mem, you don't mind if I call you that?" Ellen said to her, "Something for local color. We are in Cancun so something at the beach. And a look at the nightlife. And you all claim to be descendants of the Mayans so we should probably look at some old buildings, meet some natives. And then the interviews. You can pick the order but I'd like to have all four of you together on the last day. And probably something romantic, like a waterfall. And some human interest stuff. With your people and with the locals. See how they're doing with all this."
"I think we can do that," Mem said, learning over to whisper to one of the others.
"Well, we're here in Cancun and I have to say, Portia has decided to stay on the beach all week, it's so lovely," Ellen said. "We've got a lovely audience, in fact one could say they're a model audience," she said as the camera panned across several hundred women in a jumble of styles of clothing, alien and tourist. "I was almost afraid to come out here," she said. "It's like having all of the models from New York Fashion week but none of the gossipy, catty designers. Portia and I may just stay down here."
"First up, to get us started, our first guest is Memory, the historian and ambassador of our wonderful hosts. She and her fellow aliens learned our language to save us money on an interpreter. Let's all give her a cheer!"
To the sound of applause and whistles, Lady Memory stepped out into the studio. Dancing over to her, Ellen grabbed her hands and waltzed her around the studio before ending at the chairs, an almost identical reproduction of the set in her own studio.
"So, Mem, you've graciously agreed to be my first interview," Ellen said. "And our viewers should know that I have a list of questions here that you haven't seen, that we got from the studio audience here and in Burbank before we left."
"Really?" she said, obviously nervous.
"Yes, really, though a few weren't family friendly and some didn't translate, so we had to throw those out," Ellen said, to the sounds of a disappointed audience. "A shame really. I'd like to know the answers to some of those myself." The audience yelled in agreement. "I've read as much as I could about what you're doing here, and about you and your fellow aliens, but frankly, there isn't much we do know. You're all very mysterious."
"Ellen, we're not really that exciting as a group," Lady Memory said, a faint accent giving her answer a slightly exotic feel.
"We'll see," Ellen said, turning to the audience and mock whispering, "Wait till you hear some of these questions. The paper practically caught fire with some of them." The audience burst into laughter.
"And they like my jokes," Ellen said to the camera. "Definitely looking into buying my own club down here."
"So, first question. Explain this whole ambassador thing. We know you and someone else met with the president and spoke at the UN, but why are you specifically the one we see the most of? Why did yo meet with the president?"
"I was railroaded," Lady Memory said, to laughter from the audience. "The explanation is simple. We have a leadership council, the Council of Nine. We all have our specific roles. The best description of mine is that I'm the equivalent of one of your old Welsh bards. I sing, I dance, tell jokes, and am in charge of all diplomatic efforts. So, meeting with your president is just part of my job."
"What about the others? You said Council of Nine but as far as we know there are only the four of you," Ellen said. She turned to the audience. "Am I right? Four is less than nine, right?" The audience laughed in agreement.
"You are correct. The rest of the Council will be joining us over the next few years as they are needed," Lady Memory said. "Right now we don't need the entire Council present."
"Is it true that there are no men in your society, your Clan?" Ellen said. "Are you Amazons? I know I wouldn't want to have to face one of your warriors."
"Amazons?" Lady Memory asked. "You mean like your Wonder Woman? Or do you mean those women who scared your ancient Greeks?"
"Wonder Woman came from an island of women," Ellen said. "Even with my belief in the inherent equality of genders, men do have their occasional uses. You must have a reason for being men free."
"It's a matter of history," Lady Memory said, nodding. "In our society, the men have always been the farmers, the builders and caretakers, and our women have been the fighters and leaders, which I believe is the not the norm for people on this planet. Right now we don't need farmers or builders. We needed to fill the roles that we've found our women do much better. High stress jobs that require a large amount of communication. Warriors, Pilots, and so on. So what you see are our best people for those roles."
Lady Memory answered a few more questions before Ellen found one that caused her to laugh.
"Okay," Ellen said, flipping through her stack of cards. "Here's a good one," she said. "Someone wants to know what's going on between you and Lady Q."
"I'm not sure where you came by that question, but Lady Q and I are just good friends," Lady Memory said, momentarily glaring off stage. "And that's all I have to say on that topic."
"We'll get the real story from Lady Q tomorrow, right gang?" Ellen said to the cheers of her boisterous audience.
"So, Lady Q, what is your role on the Council?" Ellen asked the scarily beautiful looking woman sitting across from her, perched on her chair like some kind of avenging angel. The interview was already off to a bad start, she thought, with her current guest's refusal to play along with her happy intro dance. And her refusal to answer any remotely personal questions.
"To put it simply, Ellen," she said, ice almost dripping from her voice, "I'm the one the others call in for the tough jobs. As the Hand of the Council, I'm in charge of our ground forces, something like your Marines. If you see one of our people in a hard suit here in the Zone, they most likely, with rare exception, work for me."
"So, you mean all these?" Ellen asked, pointing at the screen behind them that was showing several groups of armored figures patrolling through a tough looking neighborhood.
"Yes," Lady Q said.
"Portia pointed out the other day that they look like they're wearing armor from an old Japanese cartoon. Do you have to pay royalties?"
"Royalties?" Lady Q asked, appearing puzzled. "Oh. Payment for using some being's creative idea? No, though one of our intelligence sources says that sales of these cartoons have gone up 300% since we arrived. I will admit that we did attempt to give our hard suits a friendlier appearance than our traditional armor, and while some of these cartoons might have influenced our suit designers, I would like to say that though our suits may look like they came from your cartoons, their capabilities are much different."
"Like what?" Ellen asked. "Can they fly?" The scene on the screen changed to a cartoon with the armored characters leaping from building to building.
"I would prefer not to reveal their capabilities," Lady Q said.
"Do you think I could try one on?" Ellen asked eagerly.
"You would have to make a request through our ambassador's office," Lady Q said. "But I'm sure some arrangement can be made to see if you qualify to wear one, though the fitting process can take up to a week."
"I'll get right on that," Ellen said, frowning in obvious disappointment, before flipping through her cards for another question.
"When we were out there, visiting a local market here in Cancun and one in the old city of Chichen Itza, which looks amazing by the way," she waved at the screen again where pictures of herself and Portia at the market and city appeared, escorted by several armor clad aliens. "It was so peaceful. Do you still need all that armor since you still have the shield up?"
"It's much safer than it was when we started," Lady Q agreed. "We've eliminated most of the known drug gangs, and expelled all foreign troops, but we'd rather be cautious and have the people feel secure, so we're maintaining a heavy presence for now."
"Foreign troops?"
"The Mexican army was on maneuvers with a few foreign observers in the area," Lady Q said. "They were prepared to deal with a predicted apocalypse."
"And you got rid of them?" Ellen said.
"We sent them all home," Lady Q said. "Their presence was unnecessary."
"Yeah, because, look, no apocalypse," Ellen said, laughing.
"Exactly," Lady Q said with a straight face.
"So, the two of you are apparently an item," Ellen said, sitting across from Lady Air and Lady Shadow. "I was told you could be here together or not at all."
"Ellen, you're hot for an old lady but my lady and I are a package deal," Lady Air said.
"Well, I've got my own hottie," Ellen said with a smirk. "Though she does seem to prefer the beach to my show this week."
"At least one of you has your priorities straight," Lady Air said. "If my girl was at the beach, I'd be there too."
"That's sweet, San," Lady Shadow said, leaning over to kiss her.
"So what do the two of you do?" Ellen asked.
"Each other," Lady Air said, in a low voice Ellen wasn't sure she'd actually heard.
"San is in charge of our fleet," Lady Shadow said. "If it flies, it's hers."
"Really? So if I want a ride in one of your space ships I need to talk with her first?" Ellen asked.
"Yes, and if you're lucky, she'll fly it herself," Lady Shadow said. "She's really good."
"And you? Lady Shadow? What do you do?"
"All sorts of things," Lady Shadow said. "I'm in charge of all the paperwork, making sure all the reports are filed with the right people. A fleet doesn't travel on its stomach. It's bureaucrats that make it go."
"You do more than push paper around, babe," Lady Air said. "She's our 'Big Brain'. There isn't a plan she can't make better just by reading it."
"Wow," Ellen said. "Can I borrow her? Portia hates paperwork."
"So, you're going to join us at the beach this afternoon?" Lady Air asked. "Sea, sand, and beach babes. Just what the doctor ordered."
"I might be persuaded," Ellen said. "Portia packed my favorite bikini."
"That I have to see," Lady Air said, grinning.
"My favorite bikini on her," Ellen said with a smirk, to loud laughter from the audience.
"You're not allowed on the beach unless appropriately dressed," Lady Shadow said. "Or not, if you want to visit one of the local clothing optional beaches."
"Maybe some other time," Ellen said, to audience laughter. "So, what's it like in space?"
"Quiet. Really quiet," Lady Air said. "Sound doesn't travel very well in a vacuum."
"You know, the two of you look very familiar," Ellen said after a brief moment of stunned silence.
"I don't recall us meeting before," Lady Air said. "Either you or your lovely wife."
"It'll come to me," Ellen said. "I've got a photographic memory but some of the photos are a bit foggy and scratched."
"They say everyone has at least one double," Lady Shadow said. "I'm still looking for mine. I want to have words with her for pretending to be me."
"Sort of like twins?" Lady Air asked her. "Or clones?"
"Clones?" Ellen asked. "Is that why there are so many beautiful women running around here in your uniforms? You cloned them?"
"We don't do clones," Lady Shadow said. "It's against our beliefs. And can cause all sorts of legal headaches."
"Even aliens have lawyers?" Ellen asked. "I might need to change my mind about that comedy club franchise." The audience, a mix of alien women and stranded tourists laughed.
"So, you're the High Priestess of the Dragon Cult? The head of your religion?" Ellen asked the nervous young woman, a replacement since Lady Air and Lady Shadow had insisted on appearing together. "How did that happen?"
"It's an inherited position," Sophia said.
"Ah, job security," Ellen said. "I had that once. So, what do you do?"
"We celebrate the seasons. Communicate with our ancestors and gods," Sophia said. "Hold ceremonies in our ancient cities."
"This whole apocalypse thing must have come as a surprise," Ellen said. "How do you feel about these aliens claiming your land for themselves?"
"We are descended from their Clan," Sophia said. "It is still our land. They aren't taking it away from us like the Spanish did. They are giving it back. Our people are very happy."
"So they aren't really aliens? They're Mayan?" Ellen asked, looking surprised.
"That is not how I would put it," Sophia said. "The original Clan intermarried with the local tribes and their descendants are among the Mayan peoples of the Yucatan."
"Oh, that's right. You wrote your dissertation about the spread of Mayan beliefs and people to other continents due to the Spanish invasion."
"Yes," Sophia said. "Our diaspora. So many of our people were torn from their homes. We hope this may bring some of them home."
"So, any famous celebrities with Mayan roots?" Ellen asked eagerly.
"I cannot tell you. The records are almost non-existent," Sophia said. "Our gracious liberators have found a way to assist our efforts in identifying the children of our diaspora."
"Really? How?" Ellen asked.
"They used a term I am not familiar with," Sophia said. "We've lost so much of our original culture over the years. They have a way of checking a person's ancestral origins but it will take time."
"So, they could find out if I'm related to the Queen?" Ellen asked.
"I do not know," Sophia said. "I believe their machines only work on Clan descendants. If you both have Clan ancestors, it might be possible. Since a large portion of the local Mayan families intermarried with Clan descendants, they believe they can detect who is Clan and who is not."
"So, I can't just walk up to the wall and say I'm related to one of them?" Ellen asked. "Darn! They aren't going to let me buy that comedy club near the beach, are they." She exaggerated a pout for the benefit of her delighted audience.
"So, you all have been delightful guests on my show," Ellen said to the five women sitting across from her and Portia. "I want to thank you for allowing us to spend the week here."
Portia nodded, giving them a very faint smile.
"Well, we have something for the two of you," Lady Memory said, standing up, gesturing to the two older women to stay seated. "We have rules about who will be able to live here, in the Yucatan, as we transform it into a modern Clan enclave. The children of the Mayan Diaspora will have an opportunity to request permission to live on their ancestral lands, though we would quickly run out of room if everyone who could moved back.
Some of us wanted to kick the descendants of the Conquistadors off the lands their forefathers stole, but we discovered that less than ten percent of them hadn't intermarried into one of the original Mayan families, so they were grandfathered in, as you might say.
We don't mind tourists spending their money with us, but we don't plan to allow immigration except in extreme cases. We will have exceptions to these rules, so, if you can convince us we might allow you to open a small comedy club near one of our lovely beaches. Lady Shadow can help you with finding a location."
"I appreciate the offer," Ellen said. "I'll have to think of some suitable bribe. What's your favorite dessert?" she asked, rubbing her hands together maniacally. "None of us are that cheap," Lady Air told her. "It's going to take more than some fluffy pastry for us to break the rules."
"I don't know babe," Lady Shadow said. "Maybe if she lets us borrow Lady Portia for a few days? And some of that wonderful chocolate mousse cheesecake from that awesome bakery we stopped at in that New York City place?"
"We'd need a dozen," Lady Q said. "Of the cheesecakes," she quickly added. "We know your Portia is unique."
"I don't share," Ellen said, shaking her head. "I'll get you a truckload of the cheesecake, but Portia stays with me."
"As delightful as her presence has been this week," Lady Memory said, "they're just kidding. We would welcome Portia's presence but it isn't a requirement. And she needs no bribes."
"So, my wife is welcome to stay, but I'm not?" Ellen said, pouting.
"As long as she vouches for you, I suppose we can let you stay," Lady Air said. "Of course, since her grandmother was a childhood friend of Sophia's grandmother and she's been pinging our Clan radar all week she doesn't even have to ask."
"Did you hear that babe?" Ellen asked. "You're pinging!" Blushing, Portia just shook her head.
They watched the last audience member leave, after getting both Ellen and Portia to sign one of her breasts.
"You need to keep your people under better control Rach," Santana said in a low voice, watching one of her more rambunctious engineers leaving.
"My people? She works for you!" Rachel grumbled.
"It was probably a dare," Quinn said. "It's like a frat house up there some times."
"You're one to speak, oh wondrous Lady Q. That XO of yours convinced one of my pilots to take her up to ninety thousand so she could get some jump time in. On a Saturday night."
"Ladies!" Brittany said loudly. "We are not alone."
"Sorry," they all chorused, their voices blending together. Ellen and Portia watched in bemusement.
"Is it true," Ellen asked her wife. "Is that why you wanted to stay home?"
Portia nodded. "Nana always talked about what a wonderful place this was. I didn't want that memory to be ruined."
"The two of you are staying for a few more days?" Brittany asked.
"Yes," Ellen said. "This one got to work on her tan, which she didn't need, all week long. So, we're going exploring."
"Okay, though let us know before you leave your hotel and we'll provide you with escorts."
"I'm sure things will be fine," Ellen said. "Everyone we've met has been lovely."
"Because we've had someone nearby all the time," Brittany said. "Would you like to come to a party tomorrow? There are some people I think you might like to talk to. And we'll spill some secrets, though you can't tell anyone else."
"We'll have to see," Ellen said. "I'm not the keeper of our itinerary anymore."
"Has she said yes," Santana asked, wrapping an arm around Brittany's waist and nodding at Portia.
"Not yet," Brittany grumbled.
"You have to come," Santana told the two older women. "Short stuff's parents will be there. They're huge fans."
"And Q's sister. She's got some really funny stories from when Q was little. You wouldn't believe some of the things she got into," Brittany said. "Please?"
"No one says no to my B," Santana said.
"I did," Rachel said.
"And what happened?" Santana said, smirking.
"Oh, right," Rachel said. "Wouldn't want that to happen again."
"We'll pick you up at your beach hut and bring you to the party," Brittany said. "And it'll be a night to remember. In a good way. Casual dress, though Portia in that cute little red bikini from the other day would be a big hit."
"Alright," Ellen said. "We'll come to your party."