*** Thank you so much to ohvalerievalerie on tumblr for making that movie poster for this fic. Came across it so randomly and it is seriously way too cool. I love it!

A/N: Hey y'all! Thanks for all the reviews ;) I hope I can help bring a smile your way!

Disclaimer: Not intended for copyright infringement. Only amusement and creative output.

That Awkward Moment When

Brittany frowned when she couldn't find her cell phone nearby her. She got down on her knees and looked under Santana's cherry wood bed thinking it might be down there. Somewhere.

"Um…" She heard Santana behind her and smirked to herself because considering she was still naked, Brittany knew why her girlfriend was speechless. The view was pretty explicit.

She stood up and turned around, pouting that Santana wasn't going to make a move on her again any time soon because Santana was facing the other way to distract herself with her closet of clothes.

Taking the initiative into her own hands, Brittany sauntered up to her girlfriend from behind who was wrapped in nothing but a towel, and pressed a kiss to a rounded shoulder that smelt real nice and was very smooth and had her bite marks from last night when she tried not to scream…

Good times.

"Why don't you go in late today, or not at all? Then we can…" She made a smutty noise.

"Well I…" Santana swallowed as Brittany's arms came over her shoulders, holding her loosely. Being seduced was awesome but she really had to go to work which was not awesome.

"I mean, we're having dinner tonight with my parents and we just kind of got engaged… I think a day spent fucking— oh! There's my phone!"

The hot moment was over in an instant as Brittany stepped away from her to pick up the spotted iPhone.

"Huh?" Santana turned her head to see Brittany start scolding Lord Tubbington who had been the culprit who sat on Brittany's phone, thus forgetting to finish the seduction attempt.

"He always butt-dials people," Brittany said adoringly as she lifted him up and nuzzled his face. She browsed her phone history with her other hands and said, "but looks like there was only one call he made… hours ago to my house. No big deal. One time he phoned a stockbroker and I had to help the guy refinance his shit. I thought everybody knew J.C. Penny dropped fifty-seven percent."

"Babe," Santana turned back to her clothes, "I would love to spend the day with you but I'm meeting a very important client and I better, you know, meet them. It's not like I can impress your Dad anymore than I already have, but it helps. I like being the best and I can't just ditch work all the time."

"Fine," Brittany carried her cat to the bed and sat down on the edge, watching Santana go about her morning clothe-picking ritual. "Then I will just masturbate thinking about you all day."

Santana groaned, knowing Brittany was just playing dirty to change her mind.

"I got a better idea, why don't you take your new car out for a spin? The guys at the dealership are expecting you and will give you the full low-down of the car."

"You're no fun today."

"I'm sorry," Santana wisely stayed far away from Brittany as she started changing into her clothes. "But hey, you agreed to test it out before making me get rid of it."

"Only because your tongue knows how to persuade me."

Santana emerged from her closet with a bashful smile, finishing tucking her blouse into her skirt.

After she had successfully gotten it all tucked, she leaned down to put her hands on either side of Brittany's hips (ignoring the fat cat between them) and dipped her body with the mattress for as chaste of a kiss as she cold muster after last night's much more savage behaviour.

Standing back up and returning the gorgeous, love struck smile Brittany was giving her she offered, "how about I make it up to you tomorrow? I'm sure I can take the day off-"

"Because it's a Saturday?" Brittany rolled her eyes.

"No…" Santana defended lamely before shrugging, "Well I thought I can start officially taking all Saturday's off since you have them off. And then we can do whatever you want every Saturday… like, together. That's what you want, right?"

"I can deal with that," Brittany agreed with a giggle, pressing her shy grin into Tubbington's furry head because Santana looked at her like she was exceptional and took off work for her and it was all so overwhelmingly sweet.

And it wasn't like Brittany needed any more reasons to believe Santana loved her because she treated her like she was a Goddess twenty-four-seven after all, but it really was incredibly heartwarming to know Santana loved her enough to willingly spend time with her instead of money. She listened and was finally getting it.

Letting out an embarrassed laugh at her own sappiness, Santana then cleared her throat and pointed behind her.

"So I better go, yeah… I'll try to be um, quick."

"Okay. Love you." Brittany said softly before averting her eyes back to her cat and blushing prettily at this whole sentimental moment.

"Love you too." Santana said with one lingering kiss on Brittany's forehead before swiftly exiting the room.

Only to rush back in and grab her leather satchel and then rush back out again.

Brittany squealed after the front door shut and landed backwards on the bed, holding Tubbs above her to make him dance out her happiness.

This was awesome. This kind of attention made her feel much more giddy and comfortable than she had ever been in a relationship before. Clearly Santana was 'the one.'


Susan Pierce was enjoying the sunny afternoon she had to herself. It was nice to be back home in her house instead of an odd night at her daughter's girlfriend's apartment because of the worst robbery ever, or a hotel room with terrible room service at the Dalton because the bellboys were too busy hooking up in the storage room behind the customer service counter to do their jobs.

Most things that had been stolen from the house were now replaced and the police seemed to have hit a dead end with their investigative trail. She and Horton both agreed that some extra home security wouldn't hurt so there were now cameras and special burglar alarms set up surrounding their house. Many of their neighbours copied the idea because of the robbery that took place in their neighbourhood, which was unheard of before, and even though they didn't know who was behind it the area felt secure.

It was nice to be home after all that excitement.

So, Susan had brewed herself her usual afternoon tea and was ready to relax for an hour or so before getting dinner started. Santana would be over in a more welcoming way this time because Susan and Horton had talked and decided Brittany knew what she was doing after all and it did no good being the bad guys when Santana was clearly quite smitten and keen to treat their daughter well.

Susan's day had been productive so far with some gardening, shopping, church charity hours, and consulting on a friend's case that had the delicate issue of a racist slur. It was the perfect time to unwind by sipping on a nice warm beverage and reading.

These days she often missed her kids and their energy as the house was much quieter without it. Sometimes she especially missed Gracie and Brittany laughing and running around the mansion and destroying everything as young girls more than their teenage-angst-holed-up-in-their-room days when the house tended to be cleaner.

Alas, they were grown up now and working and even though Gracie now lived with them in the house after finishing law school and Brittany was nearby in the city and always making time for her, it was lonely.

Susan noticed the blinking voicemails on the home phone and played them before sitting down and stretching out her legs. Hopefully nothing important would be on there that required a change of evening plans because she'd rather stay in with her family tonight over a hot meal, formal acceptance of Santana as Brittany's girlfriend, and a thriller movie. She particularly enjoyed the eye-candy that was Daniel Craig and the action that came in his James Bond package.

She was personally also excited to return the cooking favour and wow Santana with her own culinary skills, as well as show off the home improvements and other things.

With a happy sigh, she put her mug down on the coffee table and fiddled with her tablet to simultaneously read the news and play online scrabble with her sister Judy as the messages played out in the background.

"Hi Susan it's Meg here. Thank you for the birthday flowers, it was so nice of you to remember! We really must get together sometime and catch up. Max is seventeen now, can you believe it? Anyways, I'll call you on Monday and maybe we can grab lunch sometime. Hope you and the family are all doing well!"

"Hi Sir or Madame, this is Rajesh calling from MTS please consider a new cable plan and visit our website-"

"Ugh, Telemarketers," Susan griped, picking up her mug and taking a sip.

She smiled at the soothing sensation and put it back down, ignoring the rest of the message and zoning out until an odd sound on the machine caught her attention.

"uhn… mmm…"

Susan blinked and stopped what she was doing to look pointlessly around in horror as gasping moans filtered the peaceful afternoon and disturbed her poise.

Moans of pleasure. And yes, those were moans of… of…

"mmmm you're so good at that… YES…Santana, fuc-"

Susan felt her face turn bright red and she cringed before tossing her tablet aside to turn to the machine and cut it off before the rest of a bad word from her daughter's mouth could be heard.

"Would you like to delete all messages?" The machine-voice asked.

"Fuck yes," Susan deleted them, face bright red.

(That was so not something she needed to hear. Ever.)


"Shall we?" Brittany emerged from Santana's kitchen, only to find Gracie flicking through Santana's television channels and no Santana. "Where's San? Isn't she ready yet?"

"Here, I'm good to go." Santana rushed in, overhearing Brittany. She was fixing the loose black v-neck sweater she had on over a white collared shirt and dark, loose slacks. With added black flats and an odd hairstyle of a bun.

She fiddled with the collar and then frowned as she noticed Gracie. "What are you doing here? Don't you live where we're going?"

Gracie gaped at her, "I was in the area. Rude."

"What are you wearing?" Brittany said slowly, eyeing up Santana's uncharacteristically nerdy and loose attire.

"I'm trying to be conservative looking. This is dinner with your parents and…yeah. I thought skin-tight would be too… skin tight? This sweater is from college study-days and these pants I bought to paint my room before I decided to hire a painter…"

Brittany and Gracie started giggling at her so Santana blushed, suddenly very uncomfortable.

"Should I ditch the sweater and just go with the shirt?"

Brittany snorted into her hand and shook her head, unable to form words as she tried to stifle her bubbling laughter.

"Am I trying too hard?" Santana finally asked, exasperated with the response she was getting from the giggle-twins.

"That's not conservative, that's Ellen DeGeneres meets Hillary Clinton in Goth-Town. You're too young for that shit." Gracie gasps after her laughter has halted from Brittany slapping her arm. "But on the plus side your hair is flawless."

"Oh honey," Brittany coos gently (now that she's done being amused), "just be yourself. Plus my parents already know that you dress sexy… I mean, Dad works with you and mom's already seen you a few times… this is… I mean, you're adorable and look more lesbian than ever but yes, you are trying too hard."

With a frustrated (but grateful) groan, Santana twirls on her heel and heads back to her room to change into something more her flavour.

"So… I heard you, Miss Adamant on refusing to accept The Car, has now accepted The Car," Gracie wiggled her eyebrows and enunciated 'The Car' with a doom voice now that Santana was out of earshot. "What made you do this one-eighty? Convincing sex from your Sannie Bear?"

"No. And only I can call her that. Just… Santana was right. I need a car…"

"You're not telling me something," Gracie taunted. "Did you finally wake up and realize that she's buying you things out of looooove?"

Brittany lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, "Okay fine! Last night she made my body her plaything and every single second was glorious. She was insatiable. I can barely move."

Gracie's eyes widen drastically and her jaw drops open.

"Just kidding," Brittany leaned back, enjoying her nosy sister's inability to speak. "Or not…"

"Ho-bag!" Gracie finally managed to say while smacking Brittany's shoulder. "I think it's good you finally accepted the car. It's a nice car and she got it with love even though it was only your one year anniversary and worth more than your salary. And I'll totally drive it for you whenever you don't want it."

Gracie smirks as Brittany gives her an unimpressed older-sister stare.

"Look, I can't not accept a car that she already wasted money on. That's a sunk cost," Brittany adds as an afterthought, defending her change of decision.

"Love has changed you, hypocrite! Now you're making excuses for compromising yourself," Gracie teases, shaking her shoulders dramatically.

"Oh I was very compromising last night," Brittany recalls fondly.

Arriving from her change and now looking more ironically comfortable in her tighter clothes, Santana says, "Okay I'm ready now… where's the cat? He better not be in my room."

Santana was now donning tight black leather pants with a sheer white blouse that had a black collar and high-heeled suede black ankle boots.

Brittany bit her bottom lip while admiring the much more Santana-esque clothing and forgetting that her cat was, in essence, Santana's new roommate these days. Both of them were.

(On account of the whole random engagement through a car-fight thing.)

"He's sleeping in your bathtub." Gracie tells Santana while poking her sister in the ribs to get her to stop leering. "Like, seriously. Enough with the sexual chemistry already!"

Confused with the reasoning behind Brittany and Gracie starting a shoving match, Santana shook her head.

"We can't leave him in there," Brittany says, stopping her side of the shoving in worry of her number one cat. "I cleaned his Royal Pussy-Couch - he can use that now."

Santana made a face at her fiancé's words. "Gross."

"Well he loves bathtubs," Gracie explains, "and it's not like he can lift his own weight out of there so why can't we just leave him? I do it all the time. He likes sleeping in there."

"He eats the soap," Santana cuts in like it was obvious while making sure her hair, now down and loose, was set nicely in the hall mirror.

"He does?" Brittany looked shocked at this revelation about her cat. She knew he liked to scratch faucets and that was why she didn't want to leave him in Santana's expensive luxury tub. But eating soap? That was not something she knew.

"Yeah I mean, he totally ate mine before," Santana supplies while cutely scratching her nose. She then shook her head in memory, "he stayed in there when we went to go see that mime-theater thing a few months ago, and my lavender soap bar from Maui disappeared."


"What? I thought you knew."

"He could die! The vet told me he has unknown allergic reactions to practically everything and I told you that."

"Well… he didn't die…" Santana tried to calm Brittany down, "he's fine."

"When was this?" Brittany demanded.

"Months ago. He's clearly digested the stuff."

"And you never told me?"

"Um… he was fine? It was organic or something. I had Becky make sure he was okay, she took him to the vet."

"I can't believe we just talked about how I keep things from you…"

"Did you guys take a break or something?" Gracie asks, pointing between them. "There's something different… you're…"

(Actually communicating, she wanted to say.)

"No," Santana enthuses happily, forgetting she was in trouble. "Opposite. We're engaged."

"WHAT!" Gracie shrieks.

"I was going to tell her the same time as my parents," Brittany said to Santana playfully (forgetting to continue discussing Lord Tubbington's foray into soap feasts), but smiled nonetheless because Gracie was engulfing her in a large hug and dancing on the spot and it was nice to be able to finally declare it and celebrate. The anticipation of the evening was making her nervous because she had a feeling her parents would not react so positively to the news and so she thought Gracie's deferred excitement could have helped that situation at a later time.

But, like. Yeah. It was awesome to brag about the status.

"Oh where's the ring?" Gracie grabbed for Brittany's hands expectedly and then stared at Santana who shrugged and waved her own ring-free hands.

"Rings are stupid ways of forcing monetary exchange into a decision that is made from love. I'm offended." Brittany scolded her sister.

"The car," Santana shared with Gracie after a while of Gracie's pout from Brittany's answer. "That's her ring."

"The car?" Gracie snapped her fingers at Brittany, "What about all that compromising crap?"

"Go big or go home," Brittany shrugged one shoulder up and down. "I'm pretty sure no one else got proposed to with a car so that's totally what happened."

"Oookay, come on Weird Sisters, let's bounce. I don't want to be late." Santana gestured to the door with a smile, forever amused by Brittany's way of twisting things to suit her.

Brittany and Gracie high-fived and Santana felt equal parts hopeful and nervous about this new relationship status. It was something she honestly wanted, to be that kind of ultimate exclusive person to Brittany. But damn if it didn't make her feel anxious.

Of course, before they left Brittany quickly turned around and ran to the bedroom-bathroom to move Tubbs out of the bathtub and to his Royal Pussy-Couch.


Santana sat somewhat less uncomfortably than usual with Horton because ever since they shared a jail cell with a prostitute and he witnessed her getting stereotypically misjudged firsthand, things weren't as awkward as they had been when he first found out she was his little Bree's lady lover.

After a few moments of lulled silence (they had already said 'hi'), Santana cleared her throat gently and then said, "so… Sebastian Smith, huh? Thanks for the referral."

"Yeah, he's…" Horton sighed exasperatedly at his sentence failures. "How did it go?"

They were both referring to the important client Horton had referred to Santana to deal with. Sebastian was a young rich boy whose dad was old friends with Horton. Work was their safe-zone for discussions, it would seem.

"He made a bunch of sexist jokes and then I billed him," Santana replies. "He was speechless, totally should have seen the look on his face when I told him the invoice would be in the mail and he could go find someone else."

Horton looked taken aback, "what?"

Santana suddenly realized she was talking to someone who didn't know or play mind games quite like hers. "That's how he'll come back and stop making this thing a joke. And he was wasting my time."

"I hope so… Well, Donald was pretty tight lipped about what happened," Horton hinted his lack of knowledge at why Sebastian needed a lawyer, "Is it criminal?"

Santana nodded, "their pool boy is suing him for sexual solicitation."

"Pool boy?"

"Sebastian is… that way," Santana leans back, "you didn't know? I thought that was why you referred him."

"No, no… I didn't know…" Horton blinks his shock away quickly. "His dad's a friend, and you have the, um, best end results."

Santana enjoyed that a compliment a little too much, but hey. If your boss compliments you being the best and he's also the father of your fiancée aka future in-law, that's a damn good thing.

"Here's some scotch on the rocks," Brittany waltzed into the room with a drink for her father.

"Thanks hun," Horton gulped a big swallow of his drink and then let out a breath, probably still processing the fact that now he knew another gay person.

Santana was elated to notice a glass of red wine in Brittany's other hand as it was offered to her.

"Thanks," she too took the glass and then took a big gulp.

Brittany raises her eyebrows curiously as her father and girlfriend-fiancée chugged back their drinks before visibly relaxing.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Santana says "work" just as Horton responds with "a case."

Brittany wasn't in the mood for that and would rather watch her mom finish dinner while she sat in the kitchen and did a crossword, but Santana's lips were pursed and she looked like she might faint so Brittany did the good 'significant other' thing and sat down next to her with a gentle smile to join the boring lawyers.

"Gracie told me she's been learning a lot form you," Brittany points out. "That's nice."

"Uh, yeah…" Santana said before draining the last of her wine. "Yeah she's a natural."

Horton's eyes light up, "she's very excited about sitting with you in trial next week. Should be a good learning experience for her."

"Should be. I'm letting her do cross-examination."

"Really?" Horton looked torn between delighted for his daughter and unsure if she was ready for that.

"Yeah. I have this bit set aside to really prove our case at the end so Gracie just has to do the lighter stuff. She'll be perfect and it'll build up her verbal skills."

Brittany smiled at her dad who smiled at Santana who was smiling at Brittany's smile.


Santana poked her head into the kitchen later, finding Susan pulling something out of the oven and waving at her with her oven mitts.

"Dinner is ready, I hope you're hungry."

"Smells delicious," Santana crossed her arms and looked at the massive feast spread out on the counter. She felt a sudden ache in her heart. This family of Brittany's was… suffocating, but in a pleasant way.

"Can I help?" She asked tentatively.

Susan spun around quickly and slipped on her heel, so Santana moved forward to catch her. She held her by the arms and helped her stand steady.

"Gosh I slipped," Susan said, red in the face from her embarrassing trip up. She then moved forward to grab a glass of wine and drank it all in three swallows.

"Um… Mrs. Pierce, are you okay?" Santana asked at her odd behaviour of breathing wine.

"I'm fine," Susan enunciated loudly.

Santana quickly understood she was drunk.

"I mean, Santana, you're a great girl. You know? I really, really, really approve after getting to know you."


"But by heavens this afternoon I literally heard my daughter moaning like some harlot because you were having SEX with her!"

Santana was great at dealing with things. Confrontation? No problem. She reveled in confrontation. She was a corporate lawyer most days of the week with the occasional criminal tango meaning she confronted with some shady ass people all time and she confronted well.

(Sometimes with more anger than necessary but hey, anger management was her friend.)

This situation, however, just made her jaw drop. She did not know what to do.

Brittany walked into the kitchen like the saving angel she was saying, "is dinner ready mom? I'm starving."

Susan had already poured herself more wine and then put on a nonchalant face for her daughter.

"Yes honey," she said kindly. "Will you start carrying these things out to the table? I'm just going to show Santana my new stove top."

"Sure!" Brittany grabbed some boiled vegetables, kissed Santana's cheek on instinct, and then left.

"Um…" Santana blinked and tried to form words, but ended up just leaving her mouth slack open again because she didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry," Susan looked regretful as she whispered in a sudden rush of words. "I just drank too much too fast and forgot my manners."

Brittany entered the kitchen again, sending a beaming smile at her mother and fiancée before grabbing the salad bowl this time.

"Can we just keep that between us?" Susan asked Santana, looking wild-eyed and drunk again.

Santana was kind of impressed with how well Susan could switch her crazy off as Brittany came and went, but she was mostly very uncomfortable and at a loss with how she should respond.

Thankfully, she was saved from responding (or acknowledging that such an occurrence occurred) as a large crash caused both of them to stare out of the kitchen window.

"Mom? Santana?" Brittany had now run in, "are you okay? What was that?"

"Gracie?" Horton joined them in the kitchen and looked around oddly, "was that Gracie? Upstairs?"

Santana is not that old but she has experiences. When she was seven she was the neighbourhood detective. She found her grandmother's diamond earrings in the neighbour's dog's shit because she was able to deduce that the dog ate them.

Her grandmother never wore them again, but ever since then Santana understood she was capable of figuring shit out.

One example was her current (and first) girlfriend. She totally figured out Brittany wanted to swing the Santana Lopez swing by following the clues of Brittany's bedroom eyes and lip-licking and leering and all of that classic porn-plot stuff at the gym. Similarly she found her missing case-file a few days ago by realizing she had to have misplaced it somewhere she recently visited and took it out in and eventually found it being held at the hospital by the nurse who helped the doctor who treated her broken nose because she had worked on it there and forgotten it.

And just seconds ago? She clearly figured out Lord Tubbington butt-dialed the Pierce residence while she was having sexy relations with Brittany which resulted in the voicemail that caused Susan to chug wine. From the way Susan reacted, it was probably the round that had Brittany clawing at her back in seventh heaven.

She was quite good at mysteries, if she could say so herself. So she was pretty sure that sound was of a sixth party, not of Gracie.

"That sounded a lot like it came from outside because it was muffled by the bricks of our old house," Brittany said like genius she was. "Gracie is upstairs, right? Not outside?"

Santana looked out the window and pointed to get everyone's attention, "there's a guy running in your backyard!"

"There's a creeper outside my WINDOW!" Gracie entered the kitchen in her towel to tell everyone and then headed for the back door that went from the kitchen to the backyard. "That guy!"

Brittany ran after her sister, then Susan grabbed a wooden spoon and ran after Brittany, and then Horton followed his wife's example and grabbed a weapon of his own which was a steel spatula.

Leaving Santana alone in the kitchen to watch the chase-train from the window.

The man who was dressed in creeper-black attire as he dashed across the yard to get away from the Pierces and their weapons of mass cooking.

She saw him start to climb the wired fence to jump it so she realized this was a good opportunity to run around from the front of the house and cut him off when he tried to pop out the other side of the bay.

Running in her high heels, Santana stumbled on the grass before hitting the pavement in a good stride. She went left to curve onto the next street and sure enough the man was popping out of the backyard of the house behind the Pierce's and onto the front-lawn.

He seemed to be catching his breath and pausing now so she'd probably be able surprise-tackle the shit out of him, except Brittany popped out behind him (apparently the only Pierce to make it over the fence) and then he shrieked in surprise and ran right at Santana without realizing she was there and Santana's mending nose was easily broken again as they rammed into one another.

"Nice Santana!" Brittany said as she approached.

"Ow!" Santana clutched her re-injured nose and moaned in pain because it hurt much more this time than it did last time. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW."

She looked up to see Brittany wield her arm back to punch the guy in his nose causing him to pass out from the force of her fist.

"You alright baby?" Brittany crawled next to her since the man was knocked out cold.


"I know that guy," Santana said as they all huddled in the hospital at the wierdo's room entrance with a few police officers to see if they knew him now that the mask he had been wearing was off.

Gracie was now in clothes. Apparently her towel had gotten stuck on the fence when she gave chase, and Horton hopped the fence in time to see his older daughter right hook the mystery man's face, as Susan was too drunk to climb the fences and doubled back to the house to call the police.

"You know him?" Susan asked in a demanding tone before the policemen taking their statement could ask for elaboration.

"Wu-I-uh…" Santana realized it probably sounded like she was the cause of the trouble which she didn't want to be right after Susan's last outburst in the kitchen so she quickly explained, "no, I recognize him is what I mean."

She turned to Gracie, wincing because talking was a serious pain with her double feature broken nose, "he was behind us in the Starbucks line the other day."

Gracie looked confused as she glanced back at the man handcuffed to the hospital bed and then back at Santana who was beseeching her to remember.

"He's not wearing glasses but," Santana said back to the police officer, "I'm pretty sure this man has been um… following Gracie Pierce."

"Oh. My. God." Gracie suddenly realized this man has been stalking her. She turns to her mother with frightened eyes, "Santana's right! I… there's always this familiar guy in the corner of my eye and-and OH MY GOD! OH. MY. GOD!"

"He's stalking her?" Horton states furiously, stepping forward as if to strangle the guy lying on the hospitable bed. "A STALKER?"

"Please calm down-" the police try to calm down the family and Brittany comforts Gracie while looking equally furious and shocked.

It's Susan who still has the wooden spoon in her clutches that actually ends up freaking out by running into the room and starting to smack the shit out of the unconscious stalker to wake him up and yell, "you sick bastard!"

"Get off me crazy lady!" He's awake now and frightened of the mother bear rampage.

"We'll be charging you with criminal stalking and trespassing! I'll make you sorry!" Horton threatens as he holds back Susan because the police are forcing them back out of the room.

"Please, calm down!" The officer shuts the door, leaving his comrade inside with the man. "He will be arrested but we don't want him pressing charges on you either Mrs. Pierce. This is a police matter, I'm sorry but it looks like obstruction of justice."

"No wait just a minute," Horton said to the man. "We're lawyers and you can not go around charging my wife with this insane notion!"

"She beat a suspect with a wooden spoon," the police man said tersely.

"Look," Santana puts a hand on the officer's shoulder and pulls him away from the Pierces to help them out with her skills since she was the most calm one there, "nobody brings a wooden spoon to a hospital, right? It doesn't make sense. Therefore why would someone attack someone with a wooden spoon in a hospital?"

The officer stutters so Santana adds, "also I don't know if you've been notified but the Pierces here had their house robbed recently and Mr. Pierce was also wrongly arrested which can be constituted as police brutality and explains their lack of faith in the policing ways as of late. They also happen to be close friends of the Chief of Police Shannon Beiste so we'll be contacting her if we're unsatisfied with what you're doing and so far we are unsatisfied with what you're doing. That man was caught red-handed trespassing private property and he was probably jerking off over their daughter's shower. You understand why, if there was a wooden spoon involved, it would be bashed against his perverted head, don't you?"

The officer tries to process all that Santana said and is clearly a little perturbed by her words and how they affect his course of action.

"I would bribe you but I can tell it won't work because you're such a stand-up policeman," Santana compliments him so he doesn't think she condescended him with her earlier speech.

"And who are you?" He asked her finally, after dealing with her case.

"I'm their lawyer and that guy broke my nose. So there will also be a battery charge."

"But you see, he's also got a broken nose. The man gardening across the street told me you two collided and the um… blonde woman punched him."

"She performed a citizen's arrest," Santana defended Brittany's actions. "And I should tell you that the last time I broke my nose and police didn't listen to my side of the story seriously they regretted it. Just saying."

The officer looked unsure and said to Santana, "M'am are you threatening me? Because the facts are she allegedly chased him and attacked him."

"If you found out a guy was peeping-tom to your little sister in a towel would you tell him to carry on or punch him in the face?"

"Look," the officer groans, "I want to be on her side-"

Santana frowns. Did she hear that right? Was he talking about Brittany?

"but if your story is true-"

"Which it is."

"-the man committed a misdemeanor and the citizen's arrest was extreme."

Santana pointed her finger into his chest, "investigate him dipshit! I just told you about a burglary, connect the fucking dots! That's a felony not a misdemeanor!"

"Santana!" Brittany interrupted her yelling at the young man.

"What is it with all cops being idiots! Just once can I meet a cop who isn't a fucking IDIOT!"

Santana felt a hand on her shoulder and she caught herself from saying anything further. She was surprised to see Horton was the one calming her by standing next to her.

"I'll just take a walk," she said to them. She needed to cool off.

Brittany watched in worry as her Santana stormed off.

"Um… If I was too um… assault-ey then I'll pay a fine or whatever. It was worth punching his face."

With a shy grin, the police man scratched his head and cleared his throat, "If your lawyer is right about the burglary though then um… the details of this arrest can be uh… negligible."

Horton looked relieved, glad Santana had made a point even though she seemed like she was going to throw her own punch a moment ago.

"Wait," Brittany raised an eyebrow at the guy, "my lawyer?"

"Yeah, she's good. I'm uh Scott by the way," the guy lifted his hand up to shake Brittany's while puffing out his chest. She was confused but shook it nonetheless to be polite.

"Brittany. Nice to meet you... Guess you don't see cases like this often, huh? Lawyers chasing pervs."

"No, not often." He smiled kindly and flirtatiously, before shyly looking at his feet.

Horton and Susan shared a look of surprise. Leave it to Brittany to simply admit to a crime to get out of it.

"Well…" Brittany nodded slowly, realizing suddenly why he was being so nice to her. He liked her. "I'm going to go make sure my fiancée sees someone because her nose is mushed. So, yeah…" she gestures to where Santana had walked off.

"Your um… hmmm… uh… she?" He doesn't know what to say and darts his eyes between Brittany and her parents repeatedly.

"Yeah. And she didn't mean to blow up at you like that, honest. She's just had a lot of bad luck with police officers and broken noses and, well, when she was younger police harassed her a lot then too. She's not fond of bad investigations."

Brittany turns to her speechless parents and says (once the policeman walks away in shame), "I didn't just say that to make him leave. Santana proposed with a car."

Santana is back, now with a bag of ice on her face. She is unaware that Brittany has dropped the engagement bomb and says to them with a regretful sigh, "Sorry about my um… temper with that cop."

"It's okay honey," Brittany rubs her shoulder. "I punched that guy, Dad threatened him, and Mom beat him with a wooden spoon. We should probably go home and eat dinner now."

Gracie watches them from afar and mutters under her breath, "they totally forgot about me."