Santana's fresh from the hospital and is persuaded to see a chiropractor by Quinn. Begrudgingly, she makes her way to the building to meet this new chiropractor, Doctor Pierce.

"I don't want to do this."

"So?"

"Let me rephrase that. I'm not going to do this."

"It's too late to back out now," Quinn shrugs as they pull up to the building, "We're here and they're waiting on you."

"It looks like a retirement home." Santana states, staring at brick walls and neatly trimmed hedges, "I mean, I know I have to use the stupid cane but come on.."

"Well, it's not. Dr. Pierce is the best chiropractor in town and if you want to get back out on that stage alongside Mercedes in time for the summer tour you need to get in there."

"But I don't want to."

Quinn rolls her eyes at her best friend's stubbornness, "Do you want to lose the cane or not?"

Santana bites her lip and stares down at the black stick between her legs, wanky.

"Fine!" She huffs and pushes open the car door, slowly making her way out. She knows Quinn's only looking out for her and wants her to heal properly and the only way that can happen is if Santana goes along with whatever Quinn has lined up for her.

"Do you want help to the door, granny?" Quinn calls after her as Santana groans when she has both feet on the concrete.

"Fuck you." She grumbles but Quinn can see the smile behind the pained expression.

"No thanks, I'll pick you up in an hour though!"

"Wait, you're not-" Quinn drives off before Santana can even finish her sentence. She shrugs and walks inside anyway.

She sits in the waiting room flipping through old magazines, trying to distract herself from the thoughts of creepy old men feeling her up with the excuse of being a chiropractor and it's their job. Santana cringes and scrunches up her face in disgust and flips the page as the nurse calls for her.

Santana hasn't even been sitting for more than five minutes before a flash of blonde hair dances into the room. Her eyes can barely adjust before she's assaulted with how strikingly beautiful the woman is; long blonde hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head with a pencil sticking out, reading glasses resting on the tip of her nose, pretty pink lips, cute freckles, and a smile that could probably cure cancer.

"Hi Miss Lopez," The blonde smiles politely, her voice low and soothing, then sticks out her hand to Santana, "I'm Brittany Pierce, I'll be checking you out today."

Santana gulps and heat flares at the back of her neck and slowly works its way down between her legs. The brunette reins in her hormones and shakes the extended hand as she smiles back, "Call me Santana."

"You got it!" Brittany winks then reaches for Santana's chart and begins to flip through the pages. It sounds like she's mumbling to herself, maybe reading aloud, but Santana doesn't care. She's too busy admiring long, slender fingers and imagining them going deep insi-

"So how long have you been out of the hospital?" Brittany asks and Santana's cheeks redden, feeling like she's just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Uhh, a day? Maybe less than that." She answers, "My manager wants me to be ready by the summer tour."

"Ah yes, I knew you looked familiar." Brittany smirks as she pulls out her pen and scribbles something down on the chart before putting it up, "Well, it's a good thing you came to me because I happen to be super awesome at getting people back on their feet." She then lifts her hands and wiggles her fingers almost like she's teasing Santana with the possibilities of them, "I hear these babies work wonders."

"I bet they do." Santana smirks, surprising herself with how smooth that sounded. Brittany's grin is small and reserved but there's a glimmer in her eye of something Santana's not sure of.

In the next ten minutes, she has Santana on her back with her legs extended out in front of her while she works her fingers along Santana's thigh tenderly. They really do work wonders because Santana's sort of feeling relaxed despite the little tingle she gets every so often when Brittany's fingers press against her sore muscles at the inside of her thigh.

"You're so tight, Santana." Brittany says like it's a bad thing and Santana's eyes bulge and she bites her lip but Brittany just smiles a playful grin like the innuendo goes completely over her head, "That's normal, if you're just getting out of the hospital, you haven't gotten a chance to really loosen up yet."

"Yeah." Santana says shakily, she'll agree to anything at this point, "That's what you're for though, right?"

"Right," She winks again as she presses her fingers higher on Santana's thigh, "Don't worry, I'll have you stretched in no time."

An hour goes by quickly and Quinn's a little confused to see Santana limping out with a smug grin on her face. She gets into the car and instantly fills the space with this weird buzzing happiness, "I have the hottest chiropractor ever."

"Please tell me you did not bang her because I know that dumb grin plastered to your face right now and if you didn't bang her then you banged someone in there, was it the receptionist?"

"Rude." Santana teases, buckling herself in, "I didn't bang anyone." Quinn narrows her eyes, unbelieving, "I did however schedule another appointment and sign up for water yoga."

"Water yoga? That's a thing?"

"Apparently." Santana shrugs, "I signed up for jazzercise too, you know, once I'm healed up. Actually, I signed up for everything she teaches so clear my schedule."

"What the hell? Why?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm in love, if not in love with her then definitely her fingers and you can't get in the way of a lesbian and her love of beautiful, sexy fingers belonging to a beautiful, sexy blonde."

Quinn can't do anything but shake her head and drive Santana home.