Part 1: The Angel, 1998

Brittany shifted uncomfortably in her car seat, staring at the unending line of vehicles in front of her. She took another sip of her hot cocoa, thinking to herself how come she decided to practice medicine in New York. If she lived in some small town she'd be at work by now.

Her mind wondered back to the stranger she left in her bed that very same morning. She barely remembered his name, and that was, of course, because she had too much to drink at the bar right in the corner of the streets near her building. The sex was bad, he smelled like a wastepipe rat and he wasn't that good looking. She only took him in because she was lonely. Living on a big city, having a great job and incredible looks weren't enough for her. Truth was, her entire life, she could've gotten any kinds of company she wanted, and she did, in fact, but it never truly worked. When it ended, the whole inside her chest was still as big as it was before.

A wasted hour later, Brittany finally got to the St. James Hospital where she worked as a general surgeon for the past three years. Jesse, the owner of the hospital, a neurologist and her boss gave her a written warning. Usually, he was nice and caring towards his employees but it was the fifth time Brittany was late for work that month and he wouldn't have that anymore. Another two written warnings and she'd be on the streets looking for a job.

For the first three hours of the day, Brittany filled some charges and checked on some post-operated patients, eventually hiding her face on the insides of her medical coat and yawning. If she knew that was she'd be doing all day, she would've just stayed home, kicked the gross man out and called sick.

However, dangerously near to her dinner break, her pager went crazy with an emergency; the beeps making her head ache. She rushed to the patient's room, having the nurses telling her the inner stitches of a heart transplant she had done two days back had broken. They soon rushed into surgery and she made sure she prepared herself as quickly as she could. She knew she was the best in her job, and she would not lose a patient over something silly as inner stitches.

The surgery begun well, Brittany managed to control the bleedings quickly and repair most of the stitches easily. Unfortunately, the stitches near the main artery were broken as well, and repairing those wasn't so easy. When she was sweating on her cap, her hands aching and begging for a break, her work halfway done, one of the new stitches broke as well from the blood pressure. Her staff quickly supported her, controlling the pressure as well as they could and monitoring the patient, lowering the oxygen charge hoping it'd help lowering the heartbeats, but it was no use. The blood was escaping the wound too quickly and no matter from how softly Brittany pumped the heart between her hands, she could feel the life of the ill man slipping through her fingers as her eyes randomly fell on an empty corner of the operation room.

She let out a small gasp of shock as she spotted a young woman around her age, Latina looking, staring at her with a small smile playing on her very kissable lips. Everything about the woman dressed in a black dress was delicate, and at the same time, so attractive she didn't seem human at all. Her dark eyes, smooth skin, dark hair and lovely smirk brought some kind of peace to Brittany she couldn't seem to remember when was the last time she felt so relaxed in her life. All she could do what stare, and when the woman's smile grew wider, she knew that no one else in the room was seeing her.

"Brittany." Her name fell from the Latina's mouth so easily it seemed like she was singing. The woman approached her, putting her gloveless hand on top of hers and sighed. "Let him go." She told her calmly.

The surgeon blinked softly at her, wanting so badly to do what she was telling her to, but she couldn't. She still had a tight grip on reality. She shook her head lightly, but the woman repeated. "Let him go, Brittany." She repeated. "He doesn't belong here anymore. His time has come."

When the grip of her hands softened around the organ and she finally let go, the woman in front of her had disappeared.

Brittany only had time to take a deep breath before speaking.

"Time of death, seven fifty three."

"Do you believe in ghosts, Jenny?" Brittany questioned her dog, throwing her a dog biscuit and watching as the golden retriever chewed on it and barked at her question. The woman shrugged it off and walked towards the fridge, opening it. "Yeah, neither do I."

She sighed as she opened herself a can of soda, sipping the liquid quietly as she rubbed her eyes. "I think I haven't been sleeping well." She whispered to herself. "That's the only reasonable answer."

Convincing herself she was just stressed and overwhelmed, Brittany brushed her teeth after watching some crappy television and lied down, looking at the ceiling of her bedroom from her rented apartment. She was tired, of course, she always was, but each time she closed her eyes, her mind wondered back to the woman dressed in black, and the beautiful tone of her voice, the soft touch of her hand...

She eventually fell asleep, dreaming of fallen angels and spirits.

For the next couple of weeks, Brittany made sure to check each operation's room empty corner during the procedures, a part of her fearing seeing the gorgeous woman in black, and another bit of her hoping she'd eventually appear, but she didn't.

Eventually, her life got back into places. She even started going to the same bar again, looking for strangers, but for some bizarre reason, she brushed every flirt she got off, something she never did.

After nearly four months she had spotted the woman, Brittany had just finished an exhausting day at work; it was late at night, around nine, but she dressed up in her gym clothes and went out for a jog, wanting to get some fresh air before she went straight home. She headed to a place near her building, an abandoned, old helicopter runaway. Her dad used to take her there whenever they went to New York, telling her there was where the angels landed once they came to Earth.

Since then, Brittany always visited the place, figuring she'd get closer to her father when she missed him. She sat by the edge of the runaway, her body shivering as the cold wind blew; the place only had a few light poles, and other than that, the runaway was dark; Brittany always feared being alone, that was something that always seemed to overtake her personality in every single sense, but something inside her made her believe she wasn't.

And she wasn't, indeed.

A light coming from the other edge of the runaway, the place exactly her dad used to say the angels landed, irradiated through the place for a few seconds, a small, weak light. It only got smaller and smaller until it basically disappeared, nestling itself in the middle of a woman's neck, tied up to what seemed a necklace. The woman, however, was illuminated enough by the light poles for Brittany to see: She was the delicate woman dressed in black from the operation room.

She was still dressed in black, Brittany noticed, and she was as beautiful as ever, like she assumed she would be. Her dark, shiny hair was tied up into a ponytail and her face seemed tired, but tender. The blonde quickly turned around, pretending she wasn't staring, her heart pounding hard in her chest; what if she was indeed seeing things? She was a doctor; she could name a thousand of mental diseases that included hallucinating as a symptom.

The Latina looking young woman, however, seemed to have another plans. The noise of her high heels hit the stone ground as Brittany froze, hugging her own knees as she sat, whispering to herself for her to calm down. Maybe she was going insane.

"Miss, are you alright?"

The voice called up at her, and she couldn't help but look. Oh God, no, Brittany thought to herself as her eyes met the gorgeous, unreal face of the woman, and yes, it was the same woman… The same woman who touched her hand so softly, who spoke to her and looked at her so lovingly… And she was staring down at her at that very moment the same way, her iris filled with love and compassion.

"You seem lost." She spoke. "Do you need help? A cellphone, maybe?"

Brittany didn't nod; she was too occupied staring in awe at the loving lady, as if she was sinking in every detail of her perfection, breathing in the scent coming out from her… At her question, she nearly said yes… Yes, she was so lost, and maybe she just needed a hug, or a cuddle…

"No." The word fell from Brittany's lips harshly as she got up, tugging in her own jacket. The blonde took a moment to examine the Latina once more. She was still dressed in black indeed, now only with black social pants and a heavy, fancy coat on top of her skinny frame as the cold wind blew on her perfect, tied up hair. "I'm just cold, I was jogging –

Brittany interrupted herself as the young woman smiled again, tenderly as she had done in the operation room, bringing to the blonde's body a feeling of peace once more. "You look like you could really use a hand." Santana grinned, taking Brittany's cold hand in hers.

The blonde's body was taken by unbelievable warmth, just as she had fever, but with a nice, burning feeling coming from the inside to out. She wondered how come she was feeling it… Maybe, she was really sick… Maybe, she was dreaming…

"My name is Santana." The woman grinned and gave her hand a squeeze. "It's nice to meet you, Brittany."

Santana. The name echoed itself through Brittany's mind; it was a powerful, strong, yet sweet name, and she couldn't help but think it fit the girl in front of her. She was once more overtaken, until her mind snapped, bringing her back to reality. How come she knew her name?

"What are you doing here?" The Latina questioned her with a small smile, looking around the helicopter runaway, bringing Brittany once more inside the perfect, bittersweet fantasy.

She couldn't bring herself to answer the truth. "Jogging. I've been doing it since I moved here." She told Santana; she'd never tell the beautiful woman in front of her the real reasons, of course… She still had a tight grip on what was real. "What about you?" Brittany asked with a small frown, nearly angrily.

Santana threw her head back, her smile wider as she looked at Brittany with those big, dark eyes. "My father used to say angels land here." She spoke, letting go of Brittany's hand and clearing her throat. "But it's getting late, I must go. If you insist you're not lost…"

Brittany was overtaken once more with the cold, too shocked by her tricky mind and only managing one more question. "How did you know my name?"

The Latina grinned, tapping Brittany's name tag she didn't remove after she leaved the hospital attached to her chest. With a small nod, she winked at Brittany before she walked away towards the nearest street.

The blonde was too star struck to realize the name tag she was wearing only had her picture and her last name, watching as Santana disappeared into the darkness.

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