Note: Ok, so this little thing will be a series…I know three at once, hopefully I'll survive it haha. But yeah. This came from a rp site, which had a Maureen/Mark pairing so Joanne needed a lady friend. I just created her as a favor, but now I love their relationship and I wanted to share the love. Also, none of this is mine cept Caroline. And a huge thank you to anyone who has ever rped Caroline with me. The title comes from a song called "Recessional" by Vienna Teng.

Joanne stood on the balcony of her apartment, letting the smoke she inhaled out of her lips slowly. She flicked the embers of her cigarette into an ashtray on the cream-colored patio table. The cigarette had been a gift from Collins. It was five months since she and Maureen had officially called it off. And it was five years since she quit smoking…at least for the first time.

The NYC breeze reminded her that she was improperly clothed. Only a spaghetti strap tee that couldn't decide if it was red or orange and a pair of pink satin shorts. She ran her free hand along her arm expecting warmth from the motion. She brought the cigarette back to her lips and inhaled, that was how she really warmed up. Inside out. She wasn't really sure what happened to her and Maureen. It seemed like an even stupider fight than usual. Something involving dinner reservations. Frankly, Joanne didn't even remember the specifics. But they fought and they ended it. This time no one extended a sorry or a tear. Just a 'how are you?' Not even a 'have you meet someone new?' which perhaps would be a hint of jealousy. Nothing, they were finally done. And now Joanne seemed to be looking for answers from the moon. No questions were posed, only glances and smoke. So much for quitting.

The phone rang inside of Joanne's apartment. She thought about answering it. She even motioned towards the ashtray, but then she realized it could be work asking her to come in at 10 PM. And she knew if she answered, she would go. Not out of loyalty or a want for a good name, only to keep her busy. It was time to move on. Change, Joanne despised change. More than Republicans, which was saying something. Maybe that's was why she welcomed Maureen back time and time again. Maybe that was why.

"This is Joanne Jefferson, please leave a message after the tone," Her voice orated over the answering machine. Joanne winced remembering how Maureen had insisted to add her name to the message. For reasons unknown, Joanne always refused her. Maybe she always knew that it wouldn't last.

"Hey, Joanne, it's me. Collins. Just checking up on you, baby girl. You seemed a little…distant tonight. You know you can talk to me whenever you want, right? I hope so. Well, I have late classes tomorrow so if you wanna meet in the morning…just let me know. If you wanna talk give me a call, okay? Love ya, night." Joanne smiled gently listening to the message. Ever since Angel's death Collins told his friends constantly that he loved them. As if he knew something that they didn't. It made Joanne nervous and glad simultaneously. She knew he was there for her.

"Love you too," Joanne whispered to herself.

She took one last inhale from the cigarette before blotting it out in the ashtray. Then she slipped into her apartment. Sometimes, after visiting the loft, Joanne felt horrible coming home. Her apartment looked like something out of an Ethan Allen catalogue. Black leather sofas, modern art on the walls, a king-size bed with a plain tan comforter. And that was only her bedroom. Maureen always complained that the apartment it was too empty and bland. Only one piece of vague art in each room. And the rooms themselves only contained variations of the colors black, white, and tan. Her silver refrigerator was the most colorful object in her apartment.

Joanne sat on her bed and leaned over to open her night table drawer and find her face mask. If she didn't use the mask every night she would never stop thinking. Never stop making lists. Her hand fumbled around the drawer searching for the familiar satin feel. After a few moments of failure, she grasped a piece of paper. It all came back then. Memories that she wanted to forget. At first she thought about not reading it at all. She remembered what it said. But she pulled out the paper, nonetheless and her eyes scanned the familiar handwriting. Even her large almost bubble letters were attractive to her once upon a time, way before she meet the beautiful wreak that was known as Maureen Johnson.

"JoJo,

Before I write anything else, I have to write that I love you. And I do. Far more than I ever imagined possible. I know…corny right? Well now that you know that…I have to go away for a while. I got a job in Pennsylvania. The place is an all impressionist gallery. Just impressionists! I never mentioned it because I knew what you happen. You'd pack your bags and come with me. Which isn't fair. Not when you're up for partner at your firm. I couldn't do that to you. And this job..it's my dream, JoJo. A gallery that loves impressionist work. And it's such an opportunity. Believe me, it's better for our careers. Our love lives, no way in hell. But our careers. I still love you and I'm quite aware that I'll never be able to stop loving you. I'm sorry.

-Caroline"

Three years together. Two years living together, all erased with one letter. Joanne balled the paper up and threw it at the garbage can. It bounced off the rim and rolled a few inches away. "Shit," She muttered as she lay down and pulled her comforter over her body. She'd known about Caroline. Maureen that is, but only vaguely. Only that Joanne's heart was once broken by a hippie throw back with green eyes who believed in giggle fests and art. Above all impressionist art. But Maureen had no interest in the woman she never met. It was the past and it was over, Maureen took change in stride.

Joanne pulled the covers to her chin and closed her eyes. Maybe when she opened them Maureen or Caroline would be there. Maybe.

A woman in her early thirties walked leisurely down the streets of Manhattan at midnight. The NYC breeze fluttered through her loose dirty blonde curls that framed her face. She carried a suitcase in one hand with the bumper sticker that said "3 white women, 1 woman of color, and no men of color out of 71 artists?!". A sigh escaped her pink colored lips as she headed towards a phone booth.

"I'm gonna cry if I don't have a quarter," She told a pigeon who was minding his own business on the curb. Luckily she did have a quarter in her back pocket. She pulled over the phone book and graced her bright orange colored nails along the page. "There we go," She whispered dropping the coin into the slot and then punching in the number. "Please…please answer…" After twelve rings the answering machine picked up.

"This is Joanne Jefferson, please leave a message after the tone."

The woman's face lit up when she heared the voice of the lawyer. When the promised tone sounded, the woman licked her lips and said, "JoJo…it's Caroline. I'm…I'm back in town. You don't have to call me back…I know it's late. But I just…I'd like to see you. Maybe for a lunch or something. I'm not asking or expecting anything. Just…I want to see how you are. See if you made partner. Found a partner. You know, catching up stuff. If not I understand…" Caroline paused and then added, "I hope you're okay. I'm actually just going to hang out here for a bit…the pigeons seem friendly…so the number is..555-6347. So call or don't…but I'd rather you call of course or I wouldn't have called you-" Caroline cut off her words and then continued quietly, "Hope to hear from you soon. Bye, JoJo." She hung up the phone and left the booth.

Dropping her suitcase by the curb, she sat down beside it with a sigh. The pigeons raised their heads to look at her and then continued their search for food as if they knew she was harmless. "So guys…what's new?"

Joanne stared at the answering machine with wide eyes. "You are kidding me. You are…freaking kidding me…" She mumbled to the answering machine as if it was her ex, "Three years Caroline, and you decide to show up now! Now of all times. I don't think there could be a worse time….well at least you didn't show up at the engagement party. I guess I should be thankful for that," The lawyer rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "Caroline, you…make me talk to myself."

With a groan, Joanne leaned over and punched in the number that Caroline left her. The pay phone only ran once before an eager voice picked up on the other line. "Hello!" Caroline practically yelled into the phone. "Oh sorry…"

"What?"

"Oh just apologizing to the pigeons…they flew off."

Joanne raised her brow. Caroline was always odd. That was one of those things about her. Some would say that she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic…Joanne preferred to think that Caroline was a picnic with a candelabra and sushi. Different, but still amazing. But that was back before…everything. "Well, after you're done apologizing to the fowl of the city where are you heading? For the night?"

"Oh," Caroline voice faded as if she realized that she didn't have this all planned out like she thought she did. "I…well maybe a Central park bench or you know…I'll just walk around all night. I don't need much sleep."

"I knew it," Joanne rubbed her forehead more vigorously. "Caroline, you can't sleep on the streets of New York City. Apparently you forgot that when you went to Hicksville, PA."

"Actually it was New Hope, PA. Not really hickey but plenty of cows," Caroline pointed out.

Joanne pushed herself to sit on the edge of the bed. "Where ever you were…you can't sleep on the streets. Do you have any money? Or is that a silly question?" Just like Maureen, Caroline always had a problem with keeping money in her pocket. And it wasn't because she didn't have a job. It was because she had a fascination with seeing every movie in the theatre and having the most expensive gourmet ice cream she could find. When they were dating, it got on Joanne's nerves more than once.

"That would go under the silly question category," Caroline admitted with a frown. "But really JoJo-"

"Don't call me that, Caroline," Joanne snapped. It used to be charming. Even cute and romantic. Now, it seemed like a mockery of what they used to be. The good times and how they were all ruined by that damn note that didn't want to be thrown away.

"I…I'm sorry. No, I don't have any money. I used it all to hop the train back here. It's ok, though, Joanne. You don't have to worry about that," Caroline replied as she breathed in and out deeply. "I just wanted to see you once…but now I'm starting to think that that's out of the question. It is isn't it?"

Joanne paused at her question. Her first gut reaction was "hell yeah it is!" Her second and more thoughtful reaction was "I haven't seen you in three years…" In the end, she replied in a mix of the two, "I didn't say that, Caroline. Now…if it was earlier I could set you up with a room at a hotel, but truthfully I'm too tired. So you can crash at my place for the night. Okay?"

"Oh…oh ok," Caroline's voice picked up as if she was a little girl again. "I suppose you moved out of our old place."

"Ha," Joanne snorted, "I always hated that place, you even had to ask? I'm not very fond of cockroaches."

Caroline giggled quietly into Joanne's ear. "I remember the way that you use to jump up on the bed and scream at the top of your lungs. You'd think that it was going to eat you little by little or something. Big bad New York Lawyer scared of little old bugs. The only time I ever got to feel all manly was when I got the cockroaches."

"Manly?" Joanne asked with a slight smirk growing on her face, "Caroline, you let the cockroaches out on the fire escape. They were just going to come back. And your little 'find a new home' speech to every cockroach…while amusing was probably not very effective."

"Hey, I never recognized the same cockroach…" Caroline continued to talk, brushing off dust of old memories. Amusing thoughts. Not everything had been horrible with Caroline. If they had been, Joanne never would have stayed with her for three years. No, there were good times. Amazing times. But Joanne couldn't remember them now. It was too late in the day.

"Caroline," Joanne interrupted her ex, "My apartment is on west and 34th. Can you get there by your own?"

"Oh, oh yeah," The artist assured her, "I'll find you. Should I just buzz you or something? You need to drop your keys?"

Joanne opened her dresser drawer and took out her bottle of pain relievers. "Nope, just tell Ralph that you're a friend of mine and he'll let you up."

"Wait…you have a butler? Or like a doorman dude?" Caroline asked.

"Caroline, it's late. I'll set up the couch for you," Joanne explained then hanging up the phone without any warning. "What the hell am I doing?" She asked herself as she popped a few pills and drank it down with her saliva. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the crumpled up piece of paper. How could she face her now? How could she?

Next Chapter: The couch, A flashback to when they first met, breakfast with Collins and Mark.