"You're late, Lopez!" Frank shouted over his mug of coffee.

It was the third time that week that Santana had strolled into the dispatch a few minutes after she was supposed to, and Frank didn't seem to be too keen on it.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I got held up."

Her voice, which usually matched her boss' gruff roar, was quieter than usual. If Frank noticed, he didn't say anything, but did give her a sympathetic look as he passed her an iPad mini that contained all of the day's deliveries. She looked over them with glazed eyes, as she tried to come up with the perfect route.

She'd spent many days riding her bike through the city, and knew all of the side streets, alleys and alternate routes like the back of her hand. It only took her a few minutes before she was gearing up with her first package of the day.

What she hadn't told Frank was the reason she'd been so late, and the reason that she couldn't seem to muster up her normal enthusiasm for the job. That morning Kara, her roommate, had decided that she didn't want to stay apart from her boyfriend any longer than usual, and that she was moving out. Living in NYC wasn't cheap, especially in their neighborhood. And though bike deliveries paid well, they didn't pay enough to completely take over Kara's half of the rent. Well, that and being able to afford to eat.

Santana was lost in her own thoughts when she heard a voice booming behind her.

"Hey, Lopez, think fast!"

She turned just in time to see a soccer ball fly towards her, and then thump harmlessly off of her helmet.

If the person who threw it wasn't Mike Chang, one of her best friends, and the person who had gotten her this gig in the first place, she certainly would have laid into him. But as it stood, she'd let him off easy.

"What the hell, Chang?" she snapped, scooping up the ball, and slamming it hard into his chest.

Mike started before putting his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, my bad. You just looked so out of it. What's up?

Santana sighed. "Bro, I'm in deep. Kara's moving out, and I dunno if I'm going to be able to afford my place for much longer."

"Seriously? I thought she was just considering leaving. I didn't think she'd do it for real."

"I know! And she didn't even give me any notice. I just woke up this morning to her packing her stuff."

Mike nodded sadly, "Well, that's pretty shitty. Sorry to hear it."

Santana grimaced.

"I'd let you move in with me, but I doubt Tina'd even consider it. We only got on our own a few months ago…"

Santana cut him off. She couldn't be mad at the guy, or his girlfriend. Plus, she wouldn't feel right imposing on their private time. "No worries. I'll figure something out."

Both Santana and Mike quietly walked towards their bikes, as Santana secured a few packages in her bag.

"I just have a bad feeling about today, is all."

Mike chuckled. "That's not a good sign."

"No it's not" she said, shifting her bag on her shoulder, and hopping on the street bike. "Anyway, here's to things getting better from here."

With that, the two knocked their bike locks together and headed out in separate directions.

'At least I hope so.' Santana mumbled under her breath.

\

Santana couldn't have been more wrong. The day went from bad to worse. Not only did she have to go back to the depot twice more than usual because she had forgotten some packages, she almost got kicked out of a building for tracking horse poo in, got into it with an old lady who had forgotten she'd needed something delivered, popped the chain off of her bike, and just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, the skies opened up and it began to pour. Not a piddling little rain either, but an actual downpour. She thought she saw some people going by in a row boat at one point.

As she took refuge under an awning and waited for the storm to pass, she was already soaked through the skin. Her teeth chattered as she took a mental assessment of her life. With Kara moving out, her year had officially gone from bad to worse, and it was only April. Her girlfriend had dumped her in January. In February, the band that she had been singing with (that was supposed to be her big break) had gone on hiatus, and she hadn't had any shows since then. After that her parents had told her that they would be cutting her off because she needed to "find her place, and really start supporting herself for once." She didn't bother to tell them that she had been working since she moved into the city, and had mostly used the money they'd given her for a rainy day fund. One that she'd have to start cracking into if she didn't find another roommate soon.

And to top it all off, she'd been late three times that week (and it was only Wednesday), and was really worried that if she were late again, Frank would fire her. She couldn't help it really. She'd started bartending a few weeks before, and her body was still trying to figure out how to run on only about four hours of sleep at night. It wasn't the greatest feeling, but it put some more numbers in her bank account, and of that she was eternally grateful.

Looking up, Santana could see the rain start to slack off, so she tightened her messenger bag, and mounted her bike. As she pushed off from the curb, a sudden movement to her left caught her eye. There was a flash of blonde hair, and before she knew it, she'd crashed head first into a car door. The world upended, spun, and suddenly all the air was forced out of her body. She closed her eyes and cursed this terrible day, while waiting for the spinning and buzzing in her ears to stop.

"Oh my god! I'm so, so sorry!" A voice squeaked.

Santana didn't say anything, and didn't bother opening her eyes. She did a quick mental inventory to make sure she could feel all of her limbs. The voice got a bit closer.

"Are you okay?" it breathed.

Santana could make out now that it was a woman, and she seemed to be very close to her face. Slowly opening one eye, she made sure that the world had gone back to being stationary, and then opened the other. Gorgeous blue eyes stared back at her, and now Santana's world was spinning for a completely different reason. Those eyes seemed as though they were staring into her soul, and they were filled with such kindness and empathy that she momentarily couldn't breathe.

"I, uh… I" was all she could manage.

Suddenly the eyes shifted further down Santana's body. "Can you move your toes?"

Without the blue eyes focusing so closely on her face, Santana found herself able to breathe, and even think again.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine." With that she sat up, and rubbed her hands over her arms and legs. Her eyes went to her bike, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Fuck." Was all she could manage.

At her feet lay her bike, the front rim twisted sharply, almost all the way off the frame. Santana was on her knees in a second, kneeling before the broken bicycle. Before she knew it, the world was swimming again, and not just because of the rain that still gently fell around her.

This bike had been keeping her afloat. Without it, she only had her bartending money. And as she had no car, she wasn't sure how she'd even get around. She still had deliveries to make that day, and the whole week after, and she couldn't take that hit to her finances.

As the tears began to roll down her cheeks, she hoped that the blue eyed stranger wouldn't notice.

Suddenly her thoughts turned. It was this blue eyed chick's fault. She'd been minding her own business and following the traffic laws (a rare break from form for her), when this woman had opened her car door, out of nowhere, and caused all this. Santana went from heartbroken to furious. She rounded quickly to give the woman a piece of her mind, but was immediately taken aback to find the woman kneeling beside her on the road, beside the bike.

"It's ruined, isn't it?" The woman's voice seemed to catch. It was almost as if she were as heartbroken as Santana was at that moment. It almost didn't seem real.

Santana's anger vanished as quickly as it rose, but the sadness that had been there before returned as well.

"Would you like to call the police?"

Santana was taken aback at the question. It hadn't occurred to her that this might be a matter for the police. And she wasn't quite sure of the other woman's angle.

"Um, huh?"

"I mean, so we can file a proper report. I want you to know I'll pay to get your bike fixed. It doesn't matter how much."

Santana was shocked again. Usually when she got into it with drivers they were always trying to tell her it was her fault. She'd never have anyone so readily admit they were wrong before. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach. She was looking at the woman closely for the first time. Not just her eyes, but all of her. She was slender, but not skinny. Taller than Santana by a few inches with striking blonde hair that was now collected at the top of her head in a messy bun. She was wearing one of the most ridiculous outfits that Santana had ever seen (mismatched colors and patterns, with cowboy boots), but somehow it all seemed to work. But what struck Santana the most was the sincerity in the woman's voice and her eyes. She was hot, but there was more than that, something that tugged at her in ways that she couldn't readily explain.

"Uh, no, I don't think that'll be necessary." She said quickly. "I mean, if you're willing to take care of the rim. I'm fine. No broken bones or anything."

She stood up quickly, flexing her arms and legs to prove her point. The other woman looked at her quizzically, squinting hard and studying her closely. Santana felt her face grow hot under the gaze.

"Are you sure? You could have some sort of head injury. We should at least get you to a hospital."

Santana smiled softly. She'd gone from being bowled over on the street to admiring what she thought was the sweetest woman on the planet.

"No, seriously." She knocked on her helmet with her knuckles. "This thing took the brunt of it. Not even a scratch."

The other woman seemed unsure until Santana stuck out her hand.

"Santana Lopez. Sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

Smiling the blonde took her hand. "Brittany Pierce. Nice to meet you."

Santana faltered for a moment. The smile was such focused brilliance that she felt like she should have been wearing sunglasses. As soon as it happened, she knew that she'd do anything to see that smile again. It was beautiful and sweet and innocent and amazing, and she felt more alive seeing it than she'd felt all year. She must have been staring because Brittany cleared her throat and looked down at their hands. They were still clasped, and Santana realized that she'd been pumping for a bit longer than was socially acceptable. She quickly took back her hand and rubbed the back of her neck.

She was determined to look anywhere but at Brittany Pierce's gorgeous smile, lest she get distracted again, and found herself looking back at her damaged bike. The feelings of hopelessness rose back up into her, and she sighed deeply. Brittany followed her gaze, and gave a sigh as well.

"Have you finished with your deliveries today? Do you have a place we can take it? To get fixed, I mean."

Santana was going to ask how Brittany knew she was a bike messenger, but figured her messenger pack, heavy duty bike lock and knee high socks with knee pads might have given it away.

"I've only got a few to go, actually. And I know a guy not too far from here, but it'll take at least a few days to get this mess fixed." She gestured towards the bike, sadly shaking her head.

"No problem!" Brittany chirped.

Santana turned to her and found herself on the receiving end of another one of those gorgeous smiles. She couldn't help but feel a little infected by the other woman's optimism.

"We'll get those last packages delivered, take your bike to the shop, and find you a replacement."

Santana couldn't help but smile. "We're going to do all that, huh?"

"Yep, and I'm going to help. Luckily, I'm done with class for the day, so the rest of the day, I'm spending with you."

Santana could feel her smile getting wider. The thought of spending the rest of the day with Brittany wasn't the worst idea she'd ever heard. Before she knew it, Brittany had opened the back of her hatchback and was attempting to maneuver her mangled bike inside. Santana shook herself and rushed to help. Between the two of them they got the bike in rather easily, though Brittany barely needed her help, and in a few moments, Santana found herself strapped into the front seat of Brittany's car.

Brittany started the car, and after waiting a moment, cleared her throat and turned to Santana.

"Where to first?"

Starting, Santana realized that she'd gotten lost staring at the other woman for a moment, and shook herself. Looking down at her iPad mini, she figured the best route to drop off the remaining packages.

"Just drive straight here, and I'll tell you when to turn."

"Yes ma'am." Brittany responded, complete with a mock salute, pulling away from the curb, and checking carefully in the bike lane before she did so.

Santana couldn't help but giggle a little to herself. Now she was quite sure that she was going to enjoy the rest of her day in Brittany's company. Maybe this day wouldn't turn out so badly after all.