AN: Had this in my mind for some time now, and I finally wrote it down. Let me know if I should continue!

"Santana, you need to get a job. I can't pay everything for you,"

Santana's father watched her with careful eyes, he knew that his beautiful baby girl could get a little… feisty.
"At least work nights, I'll still pay for your rent… but you need to take responsibility at some point, and you're going to finish med school in a year and you need to learn how to take care of yourself."

Santana scoffed at him, she knew she was really spoiled. Sure, she'd had jobs in the past…once as a waitress… and once at a nightclub. Long story short- her temper got in the way, and since then her father had paid everything for her; med school, apartment, clothes, groceries, partying… the list could go on for miles.

"I can pay for your food, but if you want any clothes or go do some," he didn't seem to know the right word, but he let a little smile play on his lips as he continued, "activates; you'll have to pay for it yourself."

Santana rolled her eyes, what the fuck was that supposed to mean?

"What do you mean by, 'activities'? she hissed, glaring at him so hard that her eyes started to hurt.

"Clothes, and what you do at your free time." He looked pleased with himself, and it made her angrier.

"I need to study dad, like all the time!" the tiny latina protested while crossing her arms.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," he smiled down at her before he enveloped her in a bear hug.

She did not uncross her arms.

"So, Santana- I see here that you're a med student?" The slightly over-weighted man asked her. His name was Bjorn Stevens, and possibly her future boss. She believed he was in his fifties maybe, he had brown hair with grey stripes in it and kind, green eyes. He must have been quite handsome at some point in his life, she thought.

"Uh-huh," she replied while he looked over her papers.

"And you say you only need to work Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturday nights?" he glazed up from the papers and studied her.

She nodded and licked her lips, "The other days I have school," Santana added and smiled a little.

He nodded and gave her a little smile before he eyed her papers briefly, then gave her his full attention.

"Can you work tomorrow?" he asked, huge smile on his lips- yep definitely handsome at some point in life.

The latina let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, and smiled. "Yeah,"

"Then the job is yours."

Santana never, ever thought she would have a job as a taxi driver in Miami. Not in a million years. But here she was, on her first night-shift on a Friday night, on her way over to pick up some party people. She'd slept most of the day, even studied a little before she got ready for work.

It seemed like a decent job so far, if they got any orders to pick someone up, Bjorn gave her the info on a walkie-talkie and sent the address on her display.

If they hadn't got any pick-ups, she simply drove around the city until someone stopped her.

It was mostly people in her own age that called a cab home after a hard night of partying, she had drove a group of four or three, ten times this night. It was almost 4 pm now, and this was her last pick-up before heading home.

The latina pulled up outside of a club called 'Misson' and waited. A few minutes later three girls in her age hopped into the backseat, giggling like little children. The one in the middle leaned forward and smiled drunkenly at her, and asked her if this was her cab.

"I don't know, do you live at this address?" she asked a little annoyed and pointed at her screen.

The girl nodded, but didn't lean back. Santana frowned.

"You're pretty," the brunette girl stated and leaned back against the backseat again, giggling like a four year old, the other two joining her.

Yeah, Santana loved this job.

On her way over to the taxi station, she turned the radio on and smiled as she recognized the song; Lady Gaga's Americano was blaring out the speakers, and she started singing along.

A couple of blocks away from her destination, she stopped at a red light and signed, how could it turn red when there was no car to be seen but her, of course. All she wanted was to go home, lay down in her bed and sleep. The latina used the steering wheel as her drum set as she looked around the neighborhood. It was a quiet one; she guessed that many families lived here. Santana continued to explore her surroundings, when something caught her eye; a beautiful, beautiful blonde running out of a door and started running down the street, towards the latinas direction. She held her hand over a bleeding nose, and she… she was crying. The blonde looked so lost; she turned her head from where she came from, like someone was chasing her.

Santana's heart cracked a little, and was just about to get out of the car and shout something. Then she saw another figure coming out the door, running after the blonde. A man. He cradled his right hand, and looked around the street for something, then saw the running blonde and started to run after her, screaming something the latina couldn't make out.

The blonde turned her head, nearly tripping over her running feet doing so; trying to get away from him.

That was the last straw; Santana got out of the car and stood up, trying to get the blondes attention by slamming her car door shut, but failed.

"HEY!" The latina shouted, her word echoed down the neighborhood. That caught the blondes attention, and she stopped for a second, taking in the latina.

"GET OVER HERE!" Santana shouted, a little frustrated. The man was closing in, and the blonde just stared.

Finally, she seemed to snap out of her daze, and starting running towards the cab. Santana quickly got in, fastened her seatbelt as the blonde threw the door open and dashed into the passenger seat, and Santana speeded off.

The man who had been chasing the blonde reached the car while they were driving, and this time Santana could clearly make out his words; "If I ever get a hold of you, I'll kill you!" he screamed as they drove past him.

Silence took over the car, Santana watched carefully as the brown haired man disappeared in the distance through the rearview.

Then the latina turned to the blonde, who was sobbing quietly; tears streaming down her cheeks and blended together with the blood that was dripping down her and nose. Her 'Peace' t-shirt was ruined, and her jeans shorts had little blood stains on them.

"What's your name?" Santana asked, almost whispered to the blonde. The beauty turned to her and met her eyes. Before she knew it, Santana was drowning in ocean blue. Those blue orbs was the most breathtaking she'd ever seen, they pierced into her soul. Santana swallowed thickly and glazed at the road, then back at her passenger.

"Brittany," the blonde managed to say, and the latina broke a little, when more tears welled up into those broken eyes.

"I'm Santana," The latina said, and started looking for napkins in her jeans jacket that hung over her seat. "Here, take this," she pulled out all the napkins and handed them to the sobbing blonde.

"Phanks," the signed and put the napkins against her bleeding nose, still watching the latina in the corner of her eye, a smile tugging on her lips.

Santana briefly looked back at the blonde, "tilt you head back," she said gently.

Brittany did as she was told, and soon she stopped sobbing. "I'm taking you to the hospital," Santana added and the blonde nodded and seemed to relax. "Phank you Santana," Brittany said and looked out the window.

'What the fuck happened?' Santana thought.