Disclaimer: See pervious chapter
Pairings/Characters: Brittany/Santana, Quinn, Rachel, Sue Sylvester, Kurt Hummel, Artie Abrams, Finn Hudson, Puck, Mercedes Jones, our OC lady spies from Book I, other OC's
Word Count: 6,209 ( 4 of 9 )
Kurt looked around at the other passengers. It was the last Captain's Dinner before they docked in Cancun, and attendance had been declared mandatory for all passengers, going ashore or not. There were people at tables he hadn't seen since the first Captain's Dinner a week ago.
"What do you think is going on?" Mercedes asked, taking a sip from her wine glass. They seemed to be waiting for something before dinner was served.
Kurt shrugged. They couldn't ask Artie, who seemed to know everything. He was sitting at the Captain's table, one of the few semi-celebrities on board. Finn and Puck were at another table across the room. There was the sound of a horn and the captain stood up.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, tomorrow begins our first day back in Cancun after the arrival of the Clan of the Dragon. They have graciously allowed us to resume our visits to the area but their representatives wish to say a few things before we dock tomorrow. Afterward, we will continue with the meal our excellent chefs have prepared for us." As he sat down, the lights dimmed in all parts of the dinning room, except in front of the small stage normally used for dinner entertainment.
"Welcome to Cancun, the gateway to the protectorate of the Dragon Clan of the Pan-Galactic Confederation," a woman's voice said. Kurt gasped involuntarily as she appeared, dressed in a dark Armani suit. It was the woman Mercedes had faced by the pool that afternoon. "I am Lady Black, the US Emissary, on special assignment, to the Clan of the Dragon. All official communication to Clan authorities is through myself and my associates. If you must contact an embassy in the local area, for any reason involving Clan related persons, they will contact us for assistance.
You are all guests of the Dragon Clan and are expected to behave as guests. Anyone who does not will be returned to the ship, or if the misbehavior involves breaking any local laws, the perpetrators will be handed over to the local authorities.
And so that you can't claim mistaken identity, I've brought several members of the Clan for you to meet."
"Oh my God!" Mercedes said, "I called her a spy this afternoon!"
"Still might be," Kurt murmured. "She just might be a very important one. I'd suggest staying away from her until she forgets you."
"Is that who I think it is?" Mercedes asked, drawing his attention back to the stage.
"Umm..." Kurt could only stare.
"We thought it would be helpful if you all could identify the Clan members you may run into during your time in the Yucatan," Lady Black continued. "For those of you who might consider misbehaving, Lady Sylvester, our host's Director of LandSec has graciously honored us with her presence." A red and black clad Sue Sylvester stepped forward. Another figure, dressed in light armor in the same colors appeared next to her. "She and her officers enforce the laws of the Clan in the protectorate as impartially as possible. If you see anyone in this uniform, you are expected to follow their directions for your own safety. Thank you, Director." Not speaking, Sue nodded and she and her officer left the stage.
"We also have several members of the Clan Ground Forces and Fleet with us for identification purposes," Lady Black said. "If you see anyone in any of these uniforms, please do not bother them. If they are wearing their uniforms they are on official business. Although they are quite able to defend themselves, the paperwork involved if you attempt to interfere or assist gives new meaning to the word headache." Two tall women in distinctive uniforms of different colors stepped forward and nodded to the passengers.
"And lastly, we are honored to have the Hand of the Clan Council of Nine with us. For those who have not yet read the materials provided when you entered the dining room this evening, the Lady of the Hand is the Clan's War Leader. Lady Sylvester reports to her. If you see armor like hers it is best to get as far away as possible."
"Always good advice," the Lady of the Hand said, after lowering her helmet. From her faint accent it appeared that English was not her native language. "We try our best to avoid collateral damage but the ones who go out of their way to test our abilities rarely bother. Also, a word to the wise. We do not tolerate addictive drugs and drug dealers in our territory. The pamphlets you were given earlier contain a list of acceptable mind altering substances that may be purchased legally in our territory and where." Nodding, she closed her helmet and disappeared back into the shadows.
"If you have any questions, you received appropriate phone numbers and urls in your information packets," Lady Black said after a brief silence. "Enjoy your dinner and your visit to the Yucatan."
"And her!" Kurt said, leaning forward. "It didn't sound like our Quinn Fabray but that was her face!"
"Right? That just means Satan is missing," Mercedes said. "And if Coach Sylvester is here, I bet she's here somewhere."
"Sue Sylvester in charge of the police? That's almost as scary as Quinn being in charge of an army," Kurt said. Some feeling in the air, or possibly Mercedes' wide-eyed look behind him, had him turning around, to find a grim faced Sue Sylvester standing next to their table.
"I'm not fooled by your baby face, Porcelain," Sue said, "or by your friends. I'll be watching you closely. So, stay out of trouble."
"Yes, Coach!" they both said, shrinking down into their seats.
"I need a drink," Kurt said, after she stepped away into the surrounding shadows.
"Me too," Mercedes said, gulping down what was left in her glass. "That woman gets scarier by the year. So, what are we going to do?"
"I think we're going to enjoy the beach, and let Artie do his own thing," he said. "And then go home and forget we ever came here."
"You don't want to find Rachel?"
"If we run into her, I won't complain," Kurt said, nodding thanks at the waitress putting a plate on the table in front of him. "I don't think we thought this through completely."
"Coach Sylvester and Stepford Quinn were a bit of a shock," Mercedes murmured, sawing away at the thick steak on her plate. "Let's spend tomorrow at the beach and then check out some ruins and Mayan culture the day after."
"Sounds like a plan," Kurt said, waving over a hovering waitress to refill his wineglass.
"So, do you think Sue Sylvester has cloned Quinn and the others and is running some sort of scam?" Artie asked, joining the others on the dock.
"Possible," Mercedes said, nodding. "It looked like Quinn's face but didn't sound at all like her."
"So, where are you all off to this morning?" Artie asked.
"Beach," Kurt said.
"Beach," Mercedes added.
"Checking out some ruins," Puck said. "And some babes at the beach this afternoon."
"What Puck said," Finn said.
"Where are you going?" Kurt asked, waving at Artie and his camera crew of one.
"I've heard some interesting things about one of the old Mayan cities," Artie said. "We've hired a car if you want to join us," he said to Puck and Finn.
"We can do that," Puck said. Finn nodded.
"You might want to be careful," Kurt said. "Sylvester said she was watching us like a hawk."
"I'm not scared of that old bat," Puck said. "I can handle her police babes."
"If you say so," Kurt said, shaking his head. Hearing an engine, he looked over to see the bus to the beach opening its doors. "Well, our ride is here. Finn, don't get into trouble, your mother wouldn't be too happy."
"Right," Finn mumbled. "We'll see you at the beach after lunch."
Nodding, Kurt picked up his beach bag and followed Mercedes onto the bus. Sliding into the seat next to her he sighed. "I worry about him," he told her. "He just seems to be floating through life."
"Maybe Berry really is his soulmate, like he thinks," Mercedes said.
"No, just no," Kurt said, grimacing. "The world would implode with the implausibility. Let's not think about that," he said.
"Guess who was on that cruise ship full of pseudo spies?" Quinn said, sitting down at their table in the Chichen Itza commissary's dining room, with a tray of breakfast burritos. "Anyone who isn't Brittany," she quickly added.
"Not fair!" Brittany grumbled.
"Brit, you probably have novels of data on everyone who came in on that ship," Santana said, rubbing her girlfriend's shoulder. "And Sylvester was there."
"But I still wanted to guess!" Brittany said, pouting. "Maybe someone stowed away."
"It must be one of our old Glee club members," Rachel guessed. "Is that one of those new vegan burritos the cooks have been experimenting with?" she asked, pointing at Quinn's tray.
"Five of them, actually," she said, putting two burritos in front of Rachel. "Artie, Puck, Finn, Mercedes, and Kurt."
"That's an odd combination," Rachel said, taking a bite of burrito and humming in delight. "We need to have these at our beach hotel."
"Which one?" Quinn asked.
"The one with the avocado," Rachel said, taking another bite.
"No, which beach hotel," Quinn said.
"We own more than one?" Rachel asked in surprise.
"We own several management companies that own most of the hotels on Clan lands," Brittany said. "And we should own the rest by the end of the year. And one near Cedar Point and one in London, and one in New York," she quickly added with a smirk.
"When did we decided to branch out into hotel ownership?" Rachel said.
"When you were kidnapped," Brittany said.
"You were kidnapped also," Rachel said.
"Doesn't matter," Brittany said. "Security is easier to control if you own the hotel. And we'll probably spend quite a bit of time in New York and London."
"I can see that," Rachel said, nodding in agreement. "New York so we can deal with the UN. London so Quinn can have a place to stay when the Queen wants to have tea."
"Hey!" Quinn said. "I'm not a Queen groupie!"
"No, the Queen is a Quinn groupie," Santana said, laughing loudly.
"What about DC?" Quinn asked. "The President seems to like dragging you into meetings. Maybe he's a Brittany Groupie?"
"I'm looking but I think we really need an embassy in Washington, and eventually several others in Beijing, Moscow, and Australia."
"Australia?" Rachel asked.
"Lots of empty land we can use for planetary based defenses, just like we'll have in New Mexico," Brittany said. "That gives us Northern and Southern hemisphere coverage."
"What about my fleet?" Santana said.
"That is for the Fleet," Brittany said. "You were asking for land for bases last month."
"Right," Santana mumbled, grabbing a burrito off of Quinn's tray.
"Hey! Get your own," Quinn protested.
"Brittany? Why do we need a hotel near Cedar Point?" Rachel asked.
"You caught that? Because I like the rides there?" Brittany said. She smiled to herself.
"Recreation is good," Rachel said, approvingly. "I hope you plan to share, I haven't been there in years."
"So, what are we doing about our visitors?" Rachel said.
"Kurt and Mercedes are at the beach," Brittany said. "Sue scared them last night so they're following her advice to stay out of trouble."
"Should we point them at the family?" Rachel said. "Kurt once said he saw my dads as honorary uncles. On one of his nicer days."
"Sure," Brittany said. "I can arrange that. When do you want him to see them?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe dinner tonight or lunch tomorrow? How long are they going to be here?" she asked.
"The cruise ship is here until Friday," Brittany said.
"What are the boring bros doing today, since you appear to have them bugged," Santana asked Brittany.
"Tagged, not bugged," Brittany said. "Finn and Puck are hanging out with Artie and his cameraman. I wonder if Artie knows his cameraman is with the Russian mob?"
"We have the Russian mob poking around?" Quinn said. "Are we going to just let them in?"
"Don't worry, I have a plan," Brittany said. "Artie and the gang should be here by lunch."
"Do they know this is our base?" Santana said.
"Nobody knows," Brittany said. "Everyone thinks the old cities are still ruins. Boy are they going to be surprised."
"How are you handling all of those spies using the cruise ship as a distraction?" Quinn asked Brittany.
"Everyone on the cruise ship has been tagged," Brittany said. "If they do anything suspicious we'll pick them up. We've also tagged a dozen agents who snuck in with the ship. We're keeping an eye on them. As soon as they reported in we put them under blackout. If they cause trouble we'll pick them up. If they contact any sleepers we'll pick those up also. If they go near any embassies, we'll pick them up then."
"Thorough," Quinn said. "Good."
"What are we doing with them after we pick them up?" Rachel asked, envisioning a dozen international incidents for holding foreign agents against their will.
"Depends on who they work for," Brittany said. "Case by case. We really don't need uncontrolled info leaks."
"I understand that," Rachel said. "Just checking."
"Don't worry, Rach," Brittany said. "We're keeping our fingers clean."
"It's not your fingers I'm worried about," she said. "But that's good to know. I'm sure Santana appreciates it."
"Ooh… sexual innuendo," Santana said. "You're learning shorty."
"Just because I don't say things with double meaning, doesn't mean I can't," Rachel grumbled. "And what's the plan to deal with Artie?"
"Leave that to me," Quinn said. "Unless you have an urge to talk with Finn?"
"Finn?" Rachel said.
"Ex-boyfriend Finn," Quinn reminded her.
"That was years ago," Rachel said. "I haven't thought of him in that way in years."
"Good," Quinn said under her breath, jumping at a kick directed her way by Santana. Glaring at her, she looked down to find out her breakfast was gone. "I need to get going."
"Please don't kill them," Rachel said. "Just spank them, metaphorically speaking, and send them on their way."
"Yes, ma'am," Quinn said, smirking. "Spank and release."
"Kinky," Santana said. "I think I'll watch. You coming Brit?"
"I think I'll head to the beach with Rachel," Brittany said. "Haven't seen Kurt or Mercedes in a while."
"Okay, you and Rach are on Kurt patrol," Santana said. "Meet up at the Berry Dads for dinner?"
"That sounds like a good plan," Rachel said. "Artie? Could you please inform my Dads that they're hosting tonight and we might have a few extra guests?"
"Yes, Lady Rachel," Artie said.
"Not that I don't enjoy spending time with your fathers, but isn't that a lot for them to take care of?" Quinn asked. The implied 'they're getting old' was clearly heard by the others.
"It's their turn," Rachel said. "They insisted on being part of the weekly dinner hosting. They would feel insulted if we took this chance to host away from them."
"And your sister and Rachel's mother are going to be there," Brittany said. "They've got it covered."
"Yeah, Handsey, let's go mess with some gleeks," Santana said. "I have this urge to freak them out."
"Be nice," Rachel said, Brittany winking at them behind her back.
"So, how do you want to do this?" Santana asked, after they'd put on their hard suits. Santana's wasn't a full combat model like Quinn's but thanks to Brittany it was close, if more subtle in appearance. But still intimidating to the uninitiated. "Do you want them to know it's us?"
"Unless they think we're clones or brain washed, they'll know it's us," Quinn said. "They were on the cruise ship last night. Treat them like we always have."
"Right. So, don't deny we're us, and put the fear of us into them to remind them," Santana said.
"Exactly," Quinn said. "According to Schultz, they weren't exactly complimentary."
"Brit thinks Kurt is the only one who came down here for the right reasons," Santana said, her voice echoing as she pulled on her helmet. "He was one of the ones who objected to the whole Ellen disaster, saying Ohio wasn't ready for that kind of exposure."
"He was right," Quinn said. "Rachel showed me some of the reaction to that. I can't believe anyone thought that was a good idea. Have to wonder what 'phobe agitator fooled Ellen into doing that."
"Yea, Ellen reminds me of what's her name, our old school counselor. Smart, but too nice."
"I thought you were still angry at her?" Quinn said.
"She's apparently family now, according to my mother, and family are allowed to do the occasional stupid," Santana said, shrugging. "And she's more than made up for it since."
"You're the one in the target zone on that one," Quinn said. "However you want to handle it."
"No time to worry about it," Santana said. "The clock's ticking."
Quinn nodded. "Frighten the neighbors, pose number 10?" she said, pointing at the top of the central pyramid.
"Just us and our babysitters at the top of the world looking scary?" Santana said. "Sounds good to me. Meet you at the top." Putting on a burst of speed, she was a black blur crossing the inner courtyard. Her usual dirt-side bodyguards, Penny and Roni, followed close behind.
"Show off," Quinn muttered. "Let's take the high road," she said to her own bodyguards, Pip and Squeak. With a quick hop and then jump, the three of them soared high over the old city, landing at the top with low thumps.
"You have to show me how to do that someday," Santana said. "That looks so awesome."
"It's a secret," Quinn said. "Requires special training."
"Bull," Santana grumbled. "I bet Brit can show me."
"Possibly," Quinn said. "She does seem to know everything. And her suits have some special features we don't have."
"For example?" Santana said.
"Private channels even Artie can't get to," Quinn said. "And I think she can access every other suit's comm channels without anyone knowing."
"Brit was born sneaky," Santana said proudly.
"Darn tootin," Brittany said with a giggle on the command channel.
"Brit!" Santana said.
"Sh…" her voice whispered through the channel. "I'm trying to sneak up on Kurt. He looks kind of sad. Need to cheer him up."
"We'll let you get to your cheering up," Quinn said. "Santana and I have some puppies to deal with."
"Roger Dogger," Brittany said, loudly disconnecting from the command channel.
"I wonder what other channels she's listening to us on?" Quinn said.
"Don't know. Won't ask," Santana said.
"Knowing she's keeping an eye on us…"
"Nice warm fuzzies," Santana finished for her.
"Exactly," Quinn said. "But don't tell Rachel. She'd write a song about it."
"You mean, write another song about it," Santana said. "I wonder when they're going to get here. I do have other things to do today."
"Artie's a bit slow with that chair," Quinn said. "And that's not going to be too confusing, two Arties."
"A spare for rainy days," Santana said. "That's what Brit said. I think she's over estimating boy-Artie."
"Do you miss Lima?" Quinn asked, switching over to their private channel.
"Nothing to miss," Santana said. "My parents are here, Britt is here, more cousins than I can count, and I get to fly spaceships and order people around. If I want to see family, I can. Lima was a place to escape, why would I miss it?"
"I don't know," Quinn said. "But I feel like I should."
"You're the one who had the crappy childhood," Santana said. "I'd forget as much of it as possible."
"It wasn't all crappy," Quinn said. "Some parts weren't bad."
"Berry got picked on by everyone, even us, and I bet if you asked her, she had a happier childhood than you."
"You've got Brittany," Quinn said. "I don't have anyone here. At least in Lima I had a boyfriend."
"And good riddance to those juvie boys," Santana said. "And, you don't have to be lonely. If you look around there are so many options. And you have Frannie."
"I don't want another boy," Quinn said. "More trouble than they were worth. And Frannie's too busy playing house with Rachel's mother."
"Good, because I wasn't talking about boys," Santana said. "Besides, when was the last time you enjoyed being with one of those Lima boys?"
"I can't remember," Quinn admitted. "Lima seems so long ago."
"So get off the nostalgia train," Santana said. "Speaking of which." Santana pointed towards a moving column of dust approaching the city.
"They won't get past the gate," Quinn said. "They'll be able to see us from there."
"So let them stew? For how long?"
"Not too long," Quinn said. "I have things to do today also. Thirty clicks?"
"You're more patient than I am," Santana said. "Let me know when." With a faint hum, Santana's suit went into standby.
Quinn didn't need to monitor Santana's suit to know that she was projecting back to her flagship to get some work done. Being able to project miles away as a semi-solid hologram took more processing power than her own suit had available but thanks to some of Brittany's special toys Santana's suit was able to tap into the processing power of her flagship. Unfortunately, it could only handle one suit linked in at a time, even in normal conditions. Quinn wasn't a fan of holographic projection but it did have limited use. The AI's, like Artie, could easily handle it but Santana preferred her own, trusted, methods.
Quinn watched as the dust cloud got nearer. She didn't actually have a plan, but telling Brittany and Rachel that she was going to 'wing it' would not have gone over too well. Santana would have laughed and given her a thumbs up. She tended to plan small engagements like this on the fly. Her renowned meticulous planning tended to be absent when it wasn't a life or death situation.
The dust cloud came to a halt, quickly clearing away in the light breeze. Quinn watched and listened in on the sentry channels as Artie, Puck, and Finn tried to talk their way into the city.
"Are we sure these ruins are open?" Puck asked. "Didn't someone say that these aliens were using some of them for bases?"
"Chichen Itza is one of the largest archeological sites on the peninsula," Artie said. "They wouldn't do anything to it."
"These are aliens, bro," Puck said. "Maybe they won't care. It's just a bunch of old rocks."
"No one's said anything," Artie said. His cameraman nodded, spitting out his window. "Someone would have noticed."
"So, why are we going there if you don't think the aliens will be there," Puck said.
"Makes a great starting place," Artie said. "There are some carvings and hieroglyphs that look like aliens. According to some Ancient Alien theorists," he added with a laugh, repeating the refrain from the reality show his absent producer had started out on.
"That's a bunch of crap," Puck said. "Watched some of those shows for that history class Finn and I took in high school."
"Slept through," Finn interjected. "I watched, you slept."
"Okay, slept. If any of that ancient alien crap was real, there wouldn't have been enough room for actual people to use the things these aliens were supposed to have built."
"It sells," Artie said. "Almost as much as all that Bigfoot and UFO junk. But at least we have proof now that aliens visited in the past, and are back. Every time someone claims to have found Bigfoot it turns out to be someone in a gorilla suit."
"Gorilla suits are hot in the summer," Finn mumbled. "And dangerous during hunting season."
The van slowed down as it approached a high gate made out of some kind of white material.
"That doesn't look like ancient rock," Puck said, as the driver stopped.
"No, no it doesn't," Artie said. "Time to get out and look around." Unhooking his wheelchair from the railing, he wheeled to the ramp. "Chuck, don't forget your extra batteries."
"On it, Boss," Artie's cameraman said, digging through a large equipment bag.
Exiting the van, they headed towards the gate. Before they could reach it, two tall, armor wearing figures stepping in front of them.
"Entrance is prohibited," one of them said, in a flat female voice.
"We just want to look around," Puck said. "We won't touch anything."
"We won't touch anything?" Artie said disbelievingly, in a low voice. "We just want to take some pictures," he said.
"Entrance is prohibited," the voice said, again.
"I bet they don't speak English," Puck said. "That's probably a recording."
"What do they speak," Finn asked. "Alien?"
"Duh!" Puck said. "Not very friendly, are they," he muttered.
"They aren't shooting at us," Finn said.
"Shooting at us?" the cameraman said, looking around nervously.
"That's what aliens do in most of those movies we watched before coming down here," Finn said. "They say 'take me to your leader' and as soon as you do that they start shooting."
"That's why we brought you along Finn. Someone to hide behind," Artie said.
"We're being watched," Puck said, pointing towards a tall pyramid they could see through the gate.
"Can we go in and talk to them?" Artie asked, pointing at the same pyramid.
"Entrance is prohibited," the first gate guard said, for the third time.
"Maybe they're robots," Finn said. "They keep repeating that."
"Hey!" Puck shouted towards the gate.
"Entrance is…"
"Prohibited," Artie said. "We get the message. Is there someone we can speak to? We've come a long way."
"Entrance is by invitation only," another, more vibrant, female voice said, from behind them.
Turning, they were surprised at the almost normal looking appearance of the woman now standing by their van. Dressed like a native, in a brightly colored cape, strange looking cap, and sandals, she could have just stepped out of a Yucatan tourist magazine, Artie thought, if she didn't have blonde hair.
"Isn't this public property?" he asked.
"The previous occupants did not renew the lease," the woman said, with a straight face, "so it reverted to the original owners.
"How do we get an invitation to look around?" Artie asked.
"You have to know someone," she said. "Or be important."
"I'm a TV show host," Artie said. "Letting us look around could be good publicity."
"I suspect your show would not be seen as good publicity, Mr Abrahms," she said.
"She must have seen your last show," Puck said, laughing.
"I would like to see the pyramids," Finn said. "We came all this way for answers."
"I can't promise that you'll like the answers you get," she said, "but let me get you someone who can answer them." Turning to the armored figure to her right, she said, loudly, "Hey Hailey, tell your boss to get down here. She has visitors."
"Yes, Lady F," the figure answered.
"Who are you?" Puck asked, looking at her suspiciously.
"I know someone," she said, smirking, before walking away.
"She looks familiar," Finn said. "I've seen her somewhere before."
"Kidnapped by aliens? Didn't know you had it in you," Puck said.
"I was never kidnapped by aliens," Finn grumbled.
"If they looked like the Roswell Greys, they were probably afraid you would step on one of them."
"Never change Puckerman, that would be a true sign of the Apocalypse," an accented voice said as they were suddenly inundated by more armored figures.
"Who said that," Puck asked the faceless armored figures.
"How you managed to buy your own bar is a mystery," another voice said. "We should probably look into that. I bet he's been skimming the orphanage money again. Or finally managed to steal an ATM with getting caught."
"I didn't touch any orphan money," Puck said, trying to figure out who was speaking.
"They can come in as far as the courtyard," the first voice said, "but any recording devices stay behind."
"But…" Artie attempted to object.
"No exceptions," the voice said. "Put anything electronic in the van that you want to keep."
Grumbling, Puck walked around to the back of the van, and grabbed his small haversack from his seat. Going through his pockets, he pulled out his phone and stuffed it into his haversack. "Finn?" he shouted, "give me your stuff." Finn lumbered over to him and gave him his phone, and watch. He then stuffed the bag under his seat.
"What if someone calls me," Finn said.
"Call them back," Puck told him. Going back around to the front of the van, they rejoined the others. Puck didn't bother asking where Artie and his cameraman had hidden their cameras. He couldn't see them not attempting to record what they saw.
"Is that everything," the second voice asked. Puck looked around, still unable to figure out who was talking. It was like some movie special effect.
As soon as they were all together, the gate opened, though Puck thought it looked like it dissolved, which, while not as cool as the anime armor they were all wearing, was still fancy alien tech.
As they stepped, or in Artie's case rolled, through the gate, there were a couple snapping sounds, and Artie's cameraman shouted, and started digging at a pocket. No one said anything as they followed the aliens inside stopping in a large empty space.
"Someone didn't follow orders," the second voice said. "Naughty puppy."
"Why are you here," the first voice said. "This is no longer a tourist site."
"I'm a TV host," Artie said. "I investigate unusual events."
"We know what you do, Artie," the second voice, that Puck had finally identified as coming from the shortest of the aliens. "That doesn't explain why you think it's a good idea to wander around in the jungle with a volunteer fireman, a bartender, and a spy."
"Spy?" Artie said. "Who? Our driver?" he asked in the sudden silence.
The helmets of several of the aliens lowered, revealing two familiar faces. "I can't believe you didn't check," the shorter one, wearing the face of Santana Lopez, said, in a strange accent. "Your cameraman works for the Russian mob," she said. "And when we said no electronics, we meant it. And no reimbursements for damaged equipment."
"I'm not in the Russian mob," Artie's cameraman protested. "They're making it up."
"We have some of the best data techs on this planet," Santana said. "If they say you're Russian mob, then you are. Just be glad we're letting you go."
"Did you get your answers, Finn?" the Quinn look-alike asked.
"Why don't you guys come home," Finn asked. "Everybody misses you. I'm sure the aliens would let you go."
"Everyone who matters is down here," she said. "And they don't need to let us go. They are us."
"Yeah," Santana said. "This is the place to be, not Loser-ville Ohio."
"If you're aliens, you aren't who you look like," Puck said. "What'd you do with the real Quinn and Santana, and where are Brittany and Rachel?"
"We are the real us," Quinn said. "We just grew up. And got some really cool toys."
"Britt and Berry decided to spend the day at the beach," Santana said. "Catch a few rays, break a few hearts."
"Are you going to let us look around?" Artie asked.
"If you're here for the ruins, there isn't much left," Quinn said. "We live here now."
"What about all of the archeological artifacts?" Artie asked.
"Gone," Quinn said. "Recorded and rebuilt for us."
"What about your families?" Puck asked. "Don't they deserve to know you're still alive?"
"Ah, Puckerman, nice bit of concern showing there," Santana said. "But don't worry about our families. We have things under control."
"So, no filming," Artie said.
"Not here," Quinn said. "If you really need to look at collapsing ruins for your show, I'm sure we can work out some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement."
"How about you let us film and we don't tell people this is all a fraud."
"No can do Wheels," Santana said. "This isn't a fraud, it's the real deal."
"I have a responsibility to my viewers," Artie said. "They expect hard hitting investigative journalism."
"You do shows about dust covered caves and pyramids, and tell everyone you are discovering new alien artifacts," Quinn said. "If that's what you call journalism, I'm not surprised your show was cancelled."
"Where'd you hear that?" Artie asked. "It's not cancelled, we're just renegotiating a new production deal."
"Like I said," Santana said, "we have some really talented cyber people. I can read your cancellation notice to everyone else if you want me do."
"No, that's okay," he said, grimacing.
"So, why are you here, Puck?" Santana said. "We know why Finn and Artie came to our fair land, but what about you?"
"Moral support? I figured Kurt needed some bro-power on this trip, and we hooked up with Artie to make it easier to get down here," Puck said.
"Huh," Quinn said. "That sounded suspiciously too mature. Maybe you're impersonating the real Puck."
"What can I say," Puck said. "I've been a grown-up for a while." "Well gang, time to pack it up and head back to town," Santana said abruptly, shutting down the discussion. "Artie, if you honestly want to do some filming down here, Brit will be contacting you before your ride leaves. Until then, go enjoy the beach, and stay out of trouble."
"What about me?" Finn asked.
"I think you rate a 'mostly harmless'," Santana said. "Go to the beach, enjoy the clubs, stay out of trouble."
"Do I get to see Rachel?" he asked. "We have some unfinished business."
"I suspect she considers it finished. It's been a while for us," Quinn said.
"Ancient history," Santana added. "No time for high school romances when you have an invasion to keep an eye on."
"Hailey and Jack will see you back to your van," Quinn said, ignoring Finn's question, "and make sure you get back to Cancun. And, no telling people you knew us back in Lima, or anywhere, for that matter."
"And Mob boy, we're keeping an eye on you. We don't like organized crime," Santana said. "Later losers," she said, reengaging her helmet and disappearing along with her bodyguards.
Quinn shook her head, pulled her helmet back in place, and left without another word.
"Alien Quinn is scary, just like regular old Quinn," Finn said. "And I never got to tell her about Mr. Schue, like he asked me to."
"Let's go to the beach," Puck said. "Maybe Kurt saved us a spot."
"How do you think that went?" Quinn said, as she watched the van disappear back into the forest from the top of the main pyramid.
"Not enough spanking," Santana said over their private channel. She was already headed back to the Fleet.
"Rachel wants to see Finn," Brittany said. "She needs closure."
"Well, He can sing but he doesn't really fit the Clan ideal of the mythic hero or leading man," Quinn said. "But I don't think it would hurt."
"Everyone will be at the beach tonight," Brittany said. "Family dinner tomorrow."
"I can do beach," Santana said. "Just dress right."
"Beach bunny dressage?" Brittany asked with a giggle.
"I have to sit this one out," Quinn said. "You guys have fun."
"I'm sure we can arrange something," Brittany said.
"If I'm getting sand up my ass, you are too, Q," Santana said. "And no arguments." "Oops, gotta go," Brittany said. "Need to rescue Kurt from some clingy beach babes."
"I'm gonna marry that woman," Santana said, with a laugh.
"Better talk with Berry first," Quinn said.
"Why?"
"Who do you think approves and performs important marriages in the Clans?"
"She won't say no," Santana said. "What if she wants to get married herself?"
"To who?" Quinn asked, frowning.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Santana said. "Later, Q-babe, see yah at the Berry beach."
"To who?" Quinn repeated to herself. Rachel didn't seem to spend much time with anyone else. Certainly not enough time for a relationship to develop. "Artie?" Quinn asked. "Does Rachel have a close friend she hasn't told any of us about?"
"I am unable to answer that," Artie said.
"You know everything," Quinn said. "You must know who she spends most of her time with."
"The Memory's personal activities are not accessible during her lifetime," Artie said.
"Really?" Quinn said. "I thought that was only her personal memories?"
"Yes. All personal facets of the Memory's life are off limits except to entities designated by the Memory."
"Which would be who," Quinn asked. Sometimes, extracting information from Artie was like keeping secrets from Brittany.
"No known entities," Artie said.
"Even Brittany?" Quinn asked.
"Unknown at this time," Artie said.
"Of course not," Quinn said, keeping her frustration to herself.