A/N: I'm back. I needed a break. As a result, I've gone back to my fan fiction roots: writing about Joan and Adam. Hope you enjoy it.

I'm working on chapter twelve of "The Space Between." I haven't abandoned it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to the show as we all know.

April 1, 2016

Adam sat at the dining room table doing what he always did when he felt lost: he sketched Joan. It wasn't a conscious decision on his part. He couldn't explain it but, even when they weren't speaking, thinking about her centered him.

She had barely spoken to him for a week. He understood her anger. They'd made a plan. They were going to live in Arcadia. She'd continue working at the high school and he'd continue doing his freelance work while establishing a reputation in the local art community. They'd spend weekends with their families and friends. In a few years, they'd buy a house and start a family of their own. Then he'd gone back to New York for a week and returned with news that could mean totally changing everything. If the situation were reversed, he'd be upset, too.

Burying his hand in his hair, Adam focused on shading the nose in his drawing. Though he understood Joan's mood, the silence was beginning to get to him. He didn't how much longer he could hold out before forcing the conversation he knew they needed to have.

Suddenly, the table rocked. He looked up to find Joan sitting across from him. "I assume you have some papers or something with the details on it," she said.

"Marcus sent them to me the other day."

When he didn't speak or move, Joan raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Can I see them?"

Adam chuckled nervously at his slowness. He'd been surprised that she'd spoken to him, especially about the offer. "Sure," he said and went to get the packet Marcus had mailed him. He handed it to her, then sat and watched her go through it page by page.

Finally, she looked up, a neutral expression on her face. "Do you want this?"

"It's a great opportunity," he answered. "I think we should at least consider it bef—"

"Adam," she interrupted, shaking her head, "do you want to do this?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Things are good here."

"But?"

"But it's a steady income. I won't have to worry about taking care of us."

Joan smiled. "You've done a pretty good job so far."

"I'm serious, Jane. I want . . . I need to be able to take care of you." He reached across the table and brushed his hand over her cheek. "I can if take the job."

She sobered and took his hand in hers. "Is that the only reason you'd do this?"

"It's not like I ever considered teaching before, especially not at the university level. But there was something about standing in front of those classes, talking to Marcus's students, answering their questions. I enjoyed it, Jane. And I'd still get to do my art."

"Sounds to me like you want the job."

Adam shrugged and stared at her hand stroking his arm. He knew she didn't realize she was doing it. "What do you think about this?"

Joan took a deep breath and slowly released it before answering. "If it's what you want, then you should go for it."

"You'd come with me, right?" he asked, concerning by her phrasing.

She laughed and nodded. "Where you go, I go."

"Thank you," he said as he kissed the back of her hand.

"You're welcome." She stood and headed for their bathroom. "Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"We take care of each other."

April 3, 2016

Dearest Jane,

I used to think that I knew you—that there was very little about you that could surprise me anymore. A year married to you has proven me wrong. I am discovering you in the most mundane things: grocery shopping, paying our bills, spending lazy Saturdays on the couch flipping through the channels. My love, you are fascinating and your mystique only grows with each day that passes and every new thing I learn about you.

I've always believed that we were meant to be together. Even so, I'm only now beginning to realize what life is meant to be and you are at the center of it. Before you, I saw the world as hard and cruel, something to be endured. After I met you, everything became more bearable. But it wasn't until you accepted my ring and my name that it all began to make sense. I may have discovered you in the day-to-day things, but I'm finding life in your arms and your kisses, your smiles and your frowns, your eyes and your words. This past year has only been a taste, a glimpse of what's to come and what can be.

But the reality of marriage is that it's a dance of compromise and sacrifice. I've asked you to give up our plan for the job at NYU. And I know you only agreed because you love me and want me to be happy. Thank you. I don't pretend to know how moving to New York will turn out, but I think it'll be good. Just as compromise is a fact of marriage, unexpected change is a fact of living.

I want to leave you with this thought. In college, I'd lie awake watching you sleep. I'd imagine what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep beside you every night. I thought it would be a thrilling, heightened experience like watching Fourth of July fireworks. Instead, it's quiet, subtle. Exhilarating, but also profound. A sense of rightness has permeated every second of our marriage from the moment we took our vows. Yet nothing feels more right than wrapping my arms around you as you nestle into me at night and kissing you awake in the mornings.

Happy anniversary, Jane.

All my love,

Adam