Rachel was beyond frustrated. She had glimpsed her haven in the pools of hazel that she'd always secretly called home, and as quickly as they'd appeared, they were gone. It had been ten days since she'd seen Quinn across the street. Ten days and she was exactly where she'd been eleven days ago. Nowhere.

Rachel combed the streets of New York every day hoping to find another sighting of the elusive blonde. She'd mapped out a six block radius from the point where she'd seen her, hoping that the blonde lived somewhere therein.

Her assistant, and pretty much everyone else she knew were furious at her for her stopping her entire life (and to some extent their own) to do 'absolutely nothing but walk in circles.' They didn't understand. They would probably never understand, particularly if Rachel couldn't find Quinn.

Rachel hoped that the girl hadn't run. Jumped a bus to another place which didn't have Rachel Berry in it.

Rachel's stomach growled loudly, so she decided she should take a break and eat something. She justified to herself that she had to in order to keep her energy levels up, so she could keep looking. She ducked into a little hole-in-the wall diner, and sat in an empty booth. She ordered a cheeseburger, extra fries and a chocolate milkshake. Satisfied for the moment, Rachel looked around.

There weren't a lot of people inside. There were two gentlemen at the bar. One was older, sipping on a coffee, and flipping through the New York Times. The other was younger. Rachel figured he was in high school, or more accurately, he was skipping out on high school. Two booths down, a redhead woman was tapping her fingernails on the table, and looking at her watch every so often. Rachel could tell she was annoyed. She figured she was probably being stood up.

The redhead's cell phone went off, and she snatched it up, answering with a harsh, "Where are you?"

She'd gotten so used to watching people. She had to, as she was always watching for any sight of Quinn. This woman, though, caught Rachel's attention. So, though she knew it was poor ettiquette, she listened in on the woman's conversation, or what she could of it.

"Damn it, Charlie, you promised you'd take this seriously."

"No, if you did, you would be here."

"I love you, Charlie, you know that, but if things don't start changing..."

"Listen, I know you mean well, I just don't think that..."

"I know you..."

"Charlie! Will you stop interrupting?"

Rachel could hear the woman's frustration with this Charlie guy, not just in her tone, or her words, but simply her breathing. She wondered what exactly Charlie had done.

"Son of a bitch!" The woman screamed, snapping her phone shut.

Rachel assumed that Charlie must have said something pretty bad.

"Daughter, actually," Rachel heard the voice come from behind her. Her eyes widened. She knew that voice. It had been so long since she'd heard it. The voice of an angel.

Rachel saw Quinn walk right past her to sit across from the redhead.

"I'm really sorry Scar, I really never intend to be late."

Rachel's couldn't breathe, but her feet moved of their own accord. Before she knew it she was standing two tables down, looking at the top of Quinn's head.

"Quinn?" she breathed.