If all goes according to plan, this will end up as a series of oneshots, each centered on a certain aspect of Maureen's personality.
I own nothing.
Although Joanne Jefferson was relatively comfortable in the 'lesser' parts of NYC—as her parent's liked to call them—she still tightened the grip she had on her briefcase as she strode across the busy street.
Her attention was drawn to a particularly chaotic looking throng of people, all chattering excitedly.
Joanne peered closer.
In the center of their midst, talking animatedly, perfectly manicured fingers flashing through the air as she gestured was a certain brunette diva Joanne knew.
"Maureen?" Joanne forcibly pushed her way through the crowd, her hand latching onto a pale wrist.
"Jo! Pookie!" Maureen's face split into a too-wide smile, one suggestive of a person that may not have been in their right mind.
"Mo! What are you doing? I thought you were at home?" Joanne gently began leading Maureen away, mumbling apologies distractedly.
"I missed you, so I called Steven and he told me where you were heading! That's alright, right?" Maureen's smile faltered microscopically, but returned in all its brilliance when Joanne nodded.
"Can you go home, honey? Please?"
"But, pookie!" Maureen's face lapsed into its signature pout. "I came all the way here to find you! I even got dressed." Her eyebrows waggled suggestively, and Joanne suppressed a smile.
"Maureen…" Joanne groaned.
"We should go home together," Maureen whined, sounding much like a child.
Maureen planted a large kiss on Joanne's cheek and began to pull her girlfriend across the square, ignoring the many looks that were aimed that way.
Joanne sighed, giving in.
Although she may often lament it, there was no denying it. Her spontaneity was one of Maureen's best qualities.
Well? Should I continue?