When Quinn woke up, she was once again greeted by an empty spot besides her.

After she found the note in the kitchen she frowned deeply for a moment but then shrugged it off and got ready for a well-deserved relaxing bath with special scented oils her mother had once given her for some holiday; she could think of no better opportunity to use them.

As the hot water worked away all the tension in her body, Quinn allowed her mind to wonder and ponder about all kind of questions and what-if-scenarios.

What if Santana had just left her?

What if she wasn't coming back?

What if it was all some big prank?

No that couldn't be true, she had seen those wings, felt them, the muscles straining beneath the thin layer of feathers, Santana's heart pulsing in their veins.. they were real..

What if Quinn couldn't handle her girlfriend being an angel?

The blonde shook her hear furiously, she would not think such things, she loved Santana and if last night until early this morning was any indication then Santana loved her too, very much.

Those three words had been like a mantra, repeated over and over again, as they reached their climax: I love you, I love you, I love you..

A blush colored Quinn's cheeks as she distinctively remembered clawing at Santana's wings and biting her neck when a particularly hard orgasm had struck her.

Quinn decided that it was better to get out of the hot water, because she was all hot and bothered anyway.

Hastily drying her body, she threw on her favorite bra, a wife beater and some comfortable shorts before marching back into the kitchen and searching the cabinets for her favorite cereals.

Then, suddenly, she spotted movement in the living room, a shadow which disappeared in a flash.

The blonde strained her ears but she did not hear anything out of the ordinary, only the sound of cars rushing by and the elevator going up and down.

Remembering Santana's note, she tiptoed into their living room, inspecting every crack and corner, letting out a sigh when she found nothing.

"Quinn Fabray?"

"Holy Mother of-" the blonde shrieked and turned around, taking some very poor fighting stance while looking at the intruder: "Who the hell are you?"

"Such cursing, how indecent," the red-haired woman admonished, leaning against the doorframe while arching an eyebrow and inspecting the girl before her thoroughly: "You're her?"

Finally, Quinn's mind caught up and she noticed the out-of-this-world armor-like clothing: on the marble dark green breastplate tight muscles were engraved and a white robe was covering strong, toned legs.

But most of all, Quinn saw the weapon in the woman's hand, a long spear with a razorsharp tip, and her wings, one of the darkest grey yet still not black.

"Wh-what do you want?" the blonde couldn't keep the panic out of her voice as she stepped backwards.

"Ah," the woman snarled: "I see you've finally realized who I am," she pushed away from the door-frame, gripping her weapon more tightly in her hand and came forward.

"You're an angel," Quinn breathed out, her throat dry and hoarse: "Do you know Santana?"

"Santana?" the woman stopped her movements and seemed to vibrate with anger: "Santana does not exist!" she spat out: "Santana is just a mask, a lie!" she took a deep breath before locking eyes with Quinn, burning with hate: "There is only Gabriel," she hissed, her voice full venom.

Then everything seemed to slow down, mere second flowing into agonizing minutes.

The angel raised her spear, readied her attack, targeted Quinn,

She had nowhere to go, nowhere to run,

She was to die in that moment, on that spot,

And she prayed, prayed to God, prayed for forgiveness, prayed for salvation, prayed for her life.

The spear was flying through the room, coming closer, and closer, death on its mind,

She didn't want to die, not yet, not now, not here,

She had so many things still to do, still to see, to taste, to hear, to feel.

But the spear was coming, her impending death with it, her end.

Then she prayed, prayed to Gabriel, no, prayed to Santana, crying out for her to save her, telling her she loved her.

She closed her eyes, the spear was still coming, why would she keep them open, she didn't want to look at the sneer on that angel's face.

She pictured Santana, the first time they met, their first kiss, first night-long talk, first fight, first Valentine, first Christmas, first time making love…

Then there was the sound of glass shattering and she opened her eyes.

Santana was lunging at her, yelling something, but the spear was really close and Quinn feared that it would be faster than her girlfriend.

But then Santana suddenly rushed forward, her arms opening for an embrace, her wings enclosing them as some kind of shield and all Quinn could do was smile.

Her prayers had been answered.

Time sped up again and sound returned to the blonde.

"Quinn, are you okay?" Santana all but shouted at her, slightly shaking her shoulders before beginning to scan every part of her body.

"I'm fine," Quinn said with a teary smile: "I can't believe I'm alive," she cupped the Latina's cheek, forcing her to look up: "You came back."

"I'm so sorry," the brunette sighed, happy to have her girlfriend in her arms again, alive.

"Gabriel!"

Santana turned around slowly, the look in her eyes hardening, as she pulled Quinn even more into the protectiveness of her arms: "Michael."

"Why?" the other angel asked, accusingly.

"You had no right to attack a human, Michael," Santana gritted through clenched teeth.

"We were exposed, I came to clean up the mess," Michael fired back, her eyes momentarily darting to Quinn and the blonde shivered at the hate still there.

"It was not your mess to clean up," the Latina retorted, her façade hard and unyielding.

For a couple of moments they seemed to have a staring contest before Michael moved to pick up her spear and took on a battle position.

"You don't want to fight me, Michael, you know you cannot defeat me!" Santana shouted, giving Quinn the smallest push before drawing her weapon, a sword that looked like it was on fire, as well.

"I can always try!" Michael growled, muscles all over her body tensing and waiting for the first strike.

"Brothers, please, let's not fight amongst ourselves," another angel that suddenly had appeared in the window said.

"Uriel is right," yet another spoke up: "We are strongest together."

"Stay back, Raphael, Uriel," Santana said as one of the two came closer, raising her sword: "I will not let you harm her!"

"This is foolish, Gabriel! She is a mere human!" Raphael huffed, looking almost exasperated.

"I love her!" Santana defended.

Suddenly Uriel stepped forward and Santana tensed up but she didn't do anything as the other angel softly placed her hand upon her shoulder: "Gabriel, you know I would help you if I could but it is forbidden.."

Quinn saw Santana's shoulders sagging in defeat before she slowly turned around, locking eyes with the blonde as her grip around the sword handle tightened.

"Santana.." the blonde whispered as the angel invaded her private space, her eyes blank of emotions.

"I'm sorry," the Latina whispered, pressing her forehead against Quinn's, closing her eyes momentarily and taking a deep breath.

Then her eyes snapped back open and Quinn saw that spark as Santana spoke once more: "I'm sorry but I'm not giving up on her!"

She turned around in a flash and before any of the other three angels could react, a powerful blast of wind, formed by Santana's wings, send them all crashing into and even through the wall.

"Hold me tight," the brunette then ordered and quickly Quinn wrapped her arms around Santana's neck, nuzzling her face into said neck, closing her eyes tightly.

The next thing she knew, she was being dragged above the city, high in the sky, hunted by three Archangels who wanted her life.

"I will not give up on you," she heard Santana mutter, as if trying to convince herself and Quinn couldn't help but smile at having such a protector.