My recovery from an almost mute to my regular self seems to take an eternity, until finally I am sitting in the reception area of the hospital waiting for the doctor. I twiddle my thumbs and check the clock again, anxiously waiting to hear my name called. The receptionist, who so far has been filing her nails for the past hour, hasn't acknowledged my presence since I walked through the door. My patience is waning by the second.

I pull a little at my brace, eager to take off the offending object and impatient to finally be able to take it off for good. The miraculous goo that Santana left me did wonders for my bruises and skin, cutting in half my recovery time and making sure the pain faded away. I puff out a large breath of air and look pointedly at the receptionist again, tapping my foot loudly against the floor and internally grinding my teeth. I clear my throat loudly and finally gift the receptionist with a piercing look before making my intention clear by standing and walking towards her.

"Excuse me I've been waiting here for-"

"Ah Ms. Pierce. So glad to hear you're doing well, quite literally hear you that is. Sorry for the wait. Are you ready for your final checkup?"

I look quickly to the side, relieved and exasperated that Dr. Chang finally has the time to see me. Normally my mood stays at a happy medium but an onslaught of Quinn's protective self, Rachel's overly loud renditions of her entire play and the seemingly quick Houdini act that Santana pulled has left me tired, exhausted and ready to snap. I take a deep breath, reining in my aggravation and smile instead, following along after the good doctor into another room.

I sit down, settling into the cold chair and watch Dr. Chang flip through a few files, probably pertaining to my injuries. Why is the doctor's office always cold anyway? I follow along, answering questions about my health, any lingering pains and finally having the feeling of the stuffy material of the neck brace taken off. This time I smile genuinely at the doctor and I rub along my neck, not even remotely wincing or cringing from pain.

"Well Ms. Pierce, everything seems to check out and your bruises seem to have almost completely vanished. You're either a vampire or you have super healing abilities."

"Please, call me Brittany. After making sure I was okay and taking time out to look me over I feel like I owe you. Plus, I have Quinn and Rachel on my side and they've been treating me like a ticking time bomb, not even letting me out of their sight for a second before being fussy and annoying."

"Well I'm glad you have such great friends, and call me Tina please. I think the fact that we have a mutual friend makes us at least good acquaintances. But really, I've never seen anyone heal so fast before even with an unnecessary amount of TLC. I'm a bit surprised at your recovery time."

"Yeah…well about that Tina. I kind of had a little help. I guess. Sort of."

"Brittany, I'm not going to penalize you for seeing another doctor and getting a different kind of prescription if that's what you did. Actually I'd rather you get more help if that's what you need to get better. I mean according to your great results, this other doctor must have years of experience. Would you mind telling me who they are? I would love to speak with them if that is possible."

I fidget a little under Tina's kind gaze and I wring my hands in nervousness, unsure of what to say or how to go about telling the doctor. I shift my eyes back onto the table, moving my gaze over the various medical supplies placed neatly on the side and I contemplate what to do. Debating internally about whether to tell the doctor about Santana and her magical goo or lying poorly about some random physician, puts me ill at ease and I sink further into the seat.

"Brittany?"

"I'm sorry, it's the goo!"

"What?"

Unable to withstand Tina's gentle smile, I succumb easily to her questioning and pick up my bag from the floor. Rifling through my purse, I grab hold of the nondescript jar of goo given to me by Santana and roll it gently onto the table top and over to Tina's fingertips. I see her stop the jar and lift it up, turning it around and shaking it a little, thoroughly confused about what I just handed her.

"What is this?"

"The goo. I don't know what it is or what is in it but a friend gave it to me and it's worked wonders for me."

Watching the doctor unscrew the cap and sniff at the paste, I sit silently, assessing and trying to read her face for any inkling as to her upcoming comments. My eyes widen when I see Tina swipe a bit of the goo and rub it onto her own hand, every so often sniffing the spot and furrowing her eyebrows in consternation. Unable to take the silence anymore, I make a quick squeak and give her an apologetic smile, unsure about what to say.

"Where did you get this Brittany?"

"Am I in trouble?"

"No, but, who gave this to you?"

"A friend."

Tina looks at me quizzically and I shift nervously again, unable to lie but unwilling to give up my personal encounter with the woman who saved my life. She frowns a little, aware of my obvious attempts at being vague about the origins of the goo.

"Brittany, would you mind if I take this cream to test? I just want to make sure whatever it is, isn't going to harm you in the long run. Is that alright?"

"But I'm better! Isn't that a good thing? If the cream is going to hurt me wouldn't it already have affected me in some way? I mean I have been using the same thing these past few weeks and so far so good. I thought you were nice to your patients. Why are you asking me all these questions? You know what, whatever. Just give me my cream back!"

"Okay relax. Take a deep breath, Brittany. Good. Look, I honestly don't think there is anything wrong with the cream. It seems like any other topical agent. I just want to make sure there isn't anything else in there, just in case. I mean, it doesn't have a label on it and I don't know where or how your friend obtained this product. As your doctor I'm just looking out for your health. Tell you what, let me take a sample of it and find out. That way you can keep the jar and I'll let you know if I find anything out of the ordinary about it. Alright?"

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, I nod vigorously at Tina's proposal and flash her a smile when she returns my jar back after swabbing a sample and I stuff it safely back in my bag. We go over any lasting medical logistics and I let her press my neck a few times, checking over any area that was affected from the incident. I proudly clap my hands when I get the all clear and smile, hugging Tina all the more tightly for being so kind to me and fixing me up right as rain. I skip out the door, managing to cop a few candies from a bowl near the receptionist while sticking my tongue out at her and leaving quickly with the sound of Tina's laughter drifting behind me.

I sit quietly and enjoy the nice night, alone in the apartment for once considering Quinn is unwilling to leave me by myself after my last rendezvous with Santana. Leaving the doctor with a full bill of health kept me in a great mood all day long and my energy finally dies after cleaning the entire apartment and restocking any and all supplies. I even take a few secret twirls down the aisles in the supermarket, enjoying the freedom of my limbs and the music playing over the loud speaker. I twist and turn my neck, now unfamiliar with the weight of the brace gone, but overall happy that I can move without producing pain.

Santana's cream really did work wonders. After a week I was able to speak without my throat causing me any pain and by the week after my neck could already move within the brace without a lot of difficulty. I finally return to the apartment from my appointment with Tina with a skip in my step, enjoying the last of my candy and bringing back three cups of coffee in celebration.

"One for Quinn, one for Rachel and one for me! Drink up guys, it's a great day!"

I take in the quizzical looks from the couple before giggling and walking past them towards the guest room, shedding my clothes and tidying up everything in sight. Another great thing about finally getting better is my freedom to return to my own humble abode. Not that I wasn't grateful for the 24 hour care Quinn provided me but the need for my personal space and home has been itching for days and I was dying to get back to my apartment. Plus, I can only take so much of being a third wheel in the Fabray and Berry maelstrom they call everyday life.

So now I sit, quietly watching and laughing at the outrageous trashy reality shows late at night with my suitcase already packed and sitting by the door. I breathe a sigh of relief, ready for a few more days of rest and then I can go back to work and regular daily life. Rachel and Quinn had wanted to celebrate my clean bill of health tonight but I wheedled them into another date night, knowing that Quinn wanted to spend more time with her girlfriend with the days numbered before we both had to leave.

Happy that my life is returning back to normal and generally content that the ordeal I went through is over, I still feel a niggling dissatisfaction with my encounters with Santana. I frown at the two drunken girls on television getting their mack on and I think back to the events from the hotel room. So many mysteries surround Santana and I still am unable to find some way to contact the woman. Puck managed to contact us a week later about his search but came up with the name of some random 65 year old woman. Definitely not a match for San so, dead end there. It sucks. I blow a raspberry at the smooching girls on TV and am reminded of the conversation about my knight with the resident couple.

"Quinn, isn't there anyway I can find out about San?"

"Britt, you know I want to help but I don't know what else I can do. All I have is her first name and description. That's not much to go by, you know?"

"But Rachel said we were spontaneity and-"

"Serendipity, Brittany."

"Right, that. Thanks Rach. I don't believe there isn't a way we can find Santana. I mean come on; there were tons of people around. Doesn't anyone know who she is?"

"Apparently not B. And I'm really not so sure we should be looking for her…"

"What do you mean? She saved my life and helped me out at the hotel. I have to find her!"

"Brittany, listen. This woman obviously doesn't want anyone to find her; why else would she use an alias to get on board our flight? And why hasn't she ever contacted you? You said it yourself that she seemed a bit paranoid when you bumped into her on the street. People like that are big trouble B, and I really don't think its smart for us to get involved."

"I don't believe it. Yes, I admit everything about her is mysterious and a bit shady but she's not a bad person. There is no way she would have gone to the trouble of saving me and then offering to help with my injuries unless she has a heart."

"Having a heart doesn't necessarily mean they are a good person Britt."

"I don't care. I just need to find her, with or without your help, Quinn."

Normally I would crumble under the full weight of Quinn's stare but this time I hold strong, building upon my resolve and willfully refusing to back down. We glare at each other for a while with Rachel glancing between us every few seconds until I see Quinn finally sigh and shake her head at me, relinquishing her harsh look and ultimately allowing me to go home. I wheedle Rachel into taking her girl out for the night, which wasn't that hard really, and begin packing my belongings and going through my mental checklist in preparation.

I hear a light knock on my door and turn around, bracing myself for another lecture from Quinn when I see Rachel poke her head in and walk over to my suitcase. I watch her shift through my clothes and begin meticulously color coding all my shirts when I open my mouth to ask what she came in for.

"Rach, its okay. The yellows like to be next to the reds, you don't have to separate them. Did you need something?"

"I hope you understand Quinn isn't mad at you Brittany. She's just concerned for your wellbeing. Please don't be angry with her."

"I'm not. I just wish she'd let me make my own decisions. I'm not a child Rachel. I get things mixed up sometimes but I know what is right and wrong. And I can feel it all the way down to my toes that Santana is definitely right for me."

"I admire that about you. I envy that part of you too; being completely honest about your emotions is a very rare thing to see these days. I know Quinn and how guarded she becomes, holding in the things she really needs to say instead and taking it out on others. I understand and love everything about her, along with everything else she's shared with me. I just wanted you to know that she's only like this because she cares so much and doesn't particularly know how to show it."

"I know Rach. And I'm not angry with her. I guess I'm just a little frustrated about the situation. I haven't lost hope and for Quinn to tell me to give up on my search for Santana just makes me a little disappointed I guess."

"I know I know…just give her some time. She'll come around, I promise. Maybe I'll have some leeway with her tonight. Quinn usually can't refuse me when I ask something of her. She can be such a sweetheart sometimes."

We casually talk about what I plan to do with my rest time at home and I sketch a few stories about keeping myself busy, checking in with work but most likely spending all my time and energy in finding the ever elusive woman called Santana. We chat some more about our jobs and my own personal feelings about going back to a profession after experiencing such a traumatic incident, along with how Quinn is also returning with me and leaving for the long run.

"I'll be fine Rachel. No need to worry, once I get my sky legs again everything will just fall back into place."

"I know, but I wish you and Quinn will be more careful this time. Who knows what kind of people they let onto planes. Security at the airports should be a bit tougher on who flies these days."

"Don't worry. Q. and I will watch each other's backs like we always do. No sweat."

"Well that doesn't make it any easier for my heart. I'll have you know I was terrified when I received news of your attack."

We laugh and joke to lighten up the mood after our serious talk and I let Rachel continue sorting my clothes out, passing along any other articles of clothing that I may need. I reach the final pieces of clothing and rub the fabric of my blazer and dress pants in nostalgia, grinning at the weird feeling of not wearing my uniform. I trace the crisp lines on the neatly folded jacket and smooth over any leftover wrinkles from the dry cleaner.

"Thanks for cleaning my uniform for me Rach. I really appreciate it."

"Definitely not a problem. I had to take Quinn's out so I thought I might as well clean yours. After the harried way that day turned out I was willing to bet you both would appreciate a nice clean uniform to come back to."

"I do. It looks almost brand new. Thank you."

"Of course, I had them sent along with my other costumes and wardrobes from the show."

"That's great. Hey; did you see my lucky pin anywhere? You know the one that looks like a set of flying wings? I always had it clipped above my breast pocket and now it's missing."

"Oh, it's not there? I'll have my people look into it. Don't worry; it probably just fell off at the dry cleaners. Someone will find it."

"Oh okay, thanks Rachel. If you find it let me know. Its nothing special, I just bought it when I first started out at the job and its kind of stayed with me until now so I consider it a bit of a good luck charm."

"Ah I know the one you're talking about. Its golden, about the width of my finger, am I correct?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"I'm unsure if I remember seeing it when I had your uniform cleaned but I'll ask Quinn later if she knows where it is."

"Thanks a lot Rachel. I mean it. For everything you've done for me and more. Both you and Quinn are the bestest friends I've ever had and I'm super blessed to know I can count on you guys."

"The feeling is mutual, Ms. Pierce."

Lying down on my mattress, I wriggle a bit to situate myself better under the covers and inhale the musty scent of my apartment. Albeit a bit small and not as well furnished as Quinn and Rachel's, I still love it best when I return home after a long time in the air. The comfort of my own home and the familiarity of everything surrounding me bring solace and peace to my tired soul. After a tumultuous and eventful couple of months, I am ready for a bit of rest and relaxation. Plus I need to gather myself and prepare for another long bout of searching for my knight.

I sigh heavily and turn over, snuggling into my body pillow, closing my eyes and imagining a beautiful face staring back at me. Warm hazel eyes crinkling in laughter, small button sized dimple on her cheek, sharply raised eyebrows and full moist lips pout back at me in my mind's eye and I smile, imagining what life would be like if my imagination came true. It's been a few days since I've returned home and yet no matter how hard I look I never seem to find anything about my dream girl. I've tried all sorts of search engines, checked with eyewitnesses, phone books, directories, airlines and even security personnel. Still nothing. No one seems to know of Santana.

Apparently people distinctly remember her but no one could ever pin point the exact moment she went missing. I don't have access to security cameras and hiring a private investigator would cost me an arm and a leg so I really have only a few options left. So far I've exhausted almost all of them, although I did try to search out a sketch artist to stencil San's face but after showing the mediocre drawing around and gathering no answers I threw it in the trash instead. The drawing didn't do the woman justice anyhow.

Throwing my arms out and kicking my legs, I throw a little tantrum to ward off the uneasy feeling of failure and loss before shaking my head profusely and gathering up the rest of my motivation. I have to find San. I don't care if it'll take me a lifetime. With time running out and my impending free days drying up I make a few more mental notes to try harder and raise my fist in the air, shaking it with new determination and willpower. Wherever you are Santana, I am coming for you! Do you hear me world? Brittany Pierce is going to get her knight in shining armor. Screw waiting in the tower for a kiss, I'm going to leave the castle and get it myself!

The silence in my room is broken by the beeping of my cellphone signaling a phone call and I scramble over to my nightstand to see who it is. The words 'Unknown Number' blink back at me and I suck in a quick breath, could this perhaps be who I think it is? I don't remember giving San my number but it doesn't mean she couldn't have found it anyway. Hastily shoving my thoughts away and preparing myself for the phone call, I hit the answer button and bring it close to my ear to see if I could discern any telltale signs of who the caller is.

"Hello..?"

"Hello? Brittany?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"Oh it's Tina. You know, Dr. Chang."

"Oh gosh right. Sorry Tina thought you were someone else. Is something wrong?"

"No problem, just something interesting about your mysterious substance."

"Is it poisonous? I don't feel bad though. Are you sure? I can't believe it would be toxic or anything…"

"No, no, nothing like that, rest assured. The chemical actually turns out to be a higher quality of arnica cream for hematomas, bumps and bruises. The interesting thing about your cream though is the components. I've never seen one that had the thermal quality yours gives. Either it's a new pharmaceutical product or something the military uses. Who did you say your friend was again?"

"Umm I'm not sure really…they don't talk much about their job."

"Oh well… Sorry to bother you so late Brittany, just thought you should know about my findings."

"That's okay Tina. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem. Have a good night, Brittany."

"Night."

Stuck in Colorado. Perfect. What a great way to start off my first few days of work. I teeter precariously back towards the safety of the airport parking garage, waiting patiently for a free taxi to reach the company's hotel nearby but the enormous amount of rain and peals of lightning shimmer across the sky, forcing everyone to rush and fight for any transportation available. I am so stupid for thinking a few days back on the job without incidents is a foreshadowing of a good week ahead. Nope, luck is definitely not on my side. I should've known when my time was up and I still hadn't found Santana yet, forcing me to temporarily abandon my efforts on finding the woman and going back to work.

As I jump back again from an onslaught of splashing puddles and raging winds, I pull my jacket and drag my luggage closer to my body, protecting myself from the chill and the pouring rain. Unfortunately, I don't have Quinn on my side this time as she opted to stay in Chicago during the layover so I'm stuck with flight attendants I'm not familiar with, along with having my flight to L.A. delayed overnight. My smile wavers slightly when I catch a group of my fellow flight attendants cramming into a cab, leaving me alone with the two pilots waiting for the next free car. I crack a grin and wave them off, assuring that I will see them later or tomorrow at the airport.

I bounce a bit on my heels, nodding to the pilots near me and wait for the next free taxi to come pick us up. I turn my head sharply when I hear a screeching sound from around the corner and I spot a vehicle hurtling towards our direction. I watch with wide eyes as the car careens around a pillar, splashing pools of rain water left and right, speeding closer and closer towards us. I hear quick footsteps receding in the background and shouts for me to run, but all I can see are the blinding headlights and it traps me like a frozen deer in the path of the oncoming car. I can almost feel the roar of it's engine before the oxygen residing in my lungs is literally knocked out of me as I fly away from my rooted position and hit the wet pavement hard, tumbling through puddles of water and rolling to a stop near a parked van.

I lay face down on the floor, uncaring about the heavy rain now dousing me as I groan and try to assess what just happened. Taking a minute to feel the aches and pains in my body, I am not surprised when I hiss loudly at the sting on my knees and elbows. The rolling must've completely scraped my skin. The thunderous sound of the rain pelts the floor around me and I almost don't hear the faint popping noises going off nearby until one goes off near me and I realize they are gun shots. My breaths become a little quicker and I try to calm my raging heartbeat, fearing that whoever is shooting will notice me moving. I whimper a little, trying hard to stifle any noises coming out of my mouth and echoing into the car garage. Quick successive footsteps continue to run around my perimeter but I focus on staying still, blocking out the various screams, grunts, gunshots and loud noises dancing around me.

I lie still, unsure of how much time has passed but after a while I notice that the noises have ceased. There are no more gun noises and the loud car engine from before has been silenced. I crack open an eyelid and peer behind a pillar, trying to gauge the safety of the situation before I decide to move. Cautious of the suddenly quiet atmosphere, I try pinpointing where my luggage landed when I was thrown away. Spotting it a few yards in front of me I look around, hoping no one is nearby and start to creep towards it, trying to get to my phone and call the police. I lay low, using my knees to slowly inch towards the direction of my bags without making much noise. I get only a few feet away when I suddenly feel a hard and painful yank on my hair.

The pull is so strong on my head that I can feel strands of hair fall out as I scream and quickly move up to a kneeling position to ease the pain. Reaching back at the offending hand, I try scratching and pulling away from it's grip only to be towered over by a large man wearing all black. I let out a huge scream and try to twist away only to feel the weight of a hammer slam into my cheek and I almost tumble back to the ground in shock. The man's hand is still raised to strike me so I prepare to scream again; hoping someone around will hear and save me.

The scream is lodged in my throat and I bite my tongue accidentally when the man's hand comes down faster than I can open my mouth and this time my vision becomes blurry. I slump a little, aware of the remaining tight grip on my hair but unable to make out the words the man is saying to me. The ringing in my ear continues and I try to shake it off, hoping to clarify and hear what is being said. A loud explosion behind me clears up my hearing in time for me to focus on the man as he lets go of my hair and stumbles back, falling to the ground and gurgling up blood from his mouth. I watch in horror as his body convulses, more blood frothing out between his lips until he trembles for a few more seconds and then ceases altogether.

I see the man's dead white eyes glaring in my direction, piercing me with its soulless gaze, accusing me of his death. Uncaring of how dirty I am I throw my fist into my mouth, biting down hard on my knuckles and stifling a sob. I can't stop the terrifying whine that slips through and I shiver in fear and shock. My own mortality and the man's death scare me so much I am unable to move. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I cry out in fear, huddling forward and letting loose a barrage of random unintelligible words. I squeeze out the word 'No' when I feel the hands try to lift me up and I shy away from them in fear.

"Brittany! Brittany! Come on, we have to go! We have to leave!"

I widen my eyes when I hear a familiar voice and I finally look behind me to see Santana, also dressed all in black. Her long black trench coat hides her figure but there is no mistaking the wave of dark black hair surrounding her tanned face.

"San?"

"Yeah, look, we really have to go, I don't know if there are more of them coming back so we need to run now!"

"Yeah okay…wait my bag is over-"

"Leave it! Britt, let's go!"

"Wait, were you the one that shoved me over-"

"Questions and answers later. More running, less talking!"

Santana grabs my hands and swiftly pulls me off the floor, dragging me off further into the parking lot. I stumble and teeter every so often, trying to keep up with her pace but she steadfastly keeps moving forward, looking back only once in a while to check the surrounding area. I keep my head down, trying to follow her quickly when I notice her hand holding onto a gun. I make the connection between the man hurting me before and his timely death to the slightly smaller woman dragging me forwards and I contemplate about my feelings. I feel relieved and excited over meeting my savior again but the coincidence of painful events linking me to San seems to come with a painful pattern of events.

I keep my focus in front of me, trying to get through a myriad of thoughts when I notice something odd about Santana's hand holding onto the gun. The gun certainly looks heavy but the way her left hand holds onto it now seems a bit stiff, her arm unmoving in our fast past trek across the lot. We finally stop near the back end of the garage and I bend over, placing my hands on my knees and gulping in a huge lungful of air. Santana releases my hand and I sigh a bit in frustration until I watch her use her freehand to liberate the gun from her left hand and pocket it safely in her coat. A loud 'Beep Beep' startles me and I almost fall over again, only stabilizing when I feel Santana's strong arm wrap around my waist.

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me."

"What? What's wrong with my baby?"

"Baby? It's a death machine, San!"

She throws me a cheeky grin and straddles a lean, toned leg over the monstrosity she calls her baby. As much as I love a beautiful woman on a bike, the idea of riding one for the first time scares me a little. Tempted to grasp Santana's hand and ride behind her, I doubt the safety of the contraption and dubiously eye the hunk of metal sitting under the gorgeous woman.

"Is that even safe?"

"It's a Ducati, Brittany. Don't you trust me?"

Trust is definitely becoming something that I'm learning has different meanings with the russet eyed beauty. With a heavy sigh I close my eyes and throw caution to the winds, letting Santana pull me onto her maniac metal contraption she calls a motorcycle.

A/N: So sorry about the long wait...things have been hectic in real life. No excuses though I know, I do hope you enjoy this chapter, I have no idea why it took so long to write to be honest. Oh well, remember to read and review, let me know what you think and all, I do read all the comments and try to respond. To the wonderful readers who I'm unable to respond to because I can't pm you for whatever reason, just know I appreciate your kind words and thank you for your support. Drop me a line on tumblr or just say hello so I can respond back to you on my page :) Thanks again to my beta killercereal who obviously must be tired of reading my work when its clear that I lack sleep and have such horrible grammar lol Until next time Brittana fandom!