A/N: This was written for the Annual Romance contest on the fanfiction board. There was a limit of 1500 words and whether I win or not, it feels good to stretch my fingers over the keyboard once more.

The Brave One with the Sword

February 14, 1950

"Dammit," she cursed, pulling into the breakdown lane. "I'm going to kill you Walter!"

Walter was the mechanic who told her he'd have her '43 Chevy running smoothly by the time she was ready to leave Cincinnati. Less than twelve hours into the trip the engine started sputtering and before long it began to run like a horse trying to cross a muddy swamp.

Winter's wind howled against the broken vehicle, belting the windows with snow as though Father Winter himself were having a fun time of her predicament. Lucy groaned as she pulled her wool jacket tighter and stepped out of the car to see what the trouble was. When she lifted the trunk a cloud of smoke leapt into the night sky followed by the hiss of the radiator.

It was almost one in the morning. With a groan, Lucy went into the backseat and retrieved her overnight bag and suitcase. There was bound to be a gas station or a diner where she could get help. Though she was bundled up warmly the wind still stung, making her wish she had just stayed home.

No, she told herself. I'm going to make that audition and soon the whole family is going to see Lucy Windham's name on the marquee.

At times the snow came down like a white sheet so that it didn't seem like she was going anywhere. She clung to the side of the road, praying for someone to find her on this godforsaken night and to not run her over in the process.

In the seventh grade she played the part of St. Joan for a school play. Lucy recited her lines to bring on feelings of warmth and confidence. And as if the character Joan's prayers touched someone upstairs, a pair of lights shined from behind followed by a dirt brown town car that slowed to a stop beside her.

Lucy was cautious, but hopeful. The driver stepped out and looked in her direction. With the snow billowing around the car and the lights reflecting off of it, it was hard to make out his face at first.

"Oh, miss. I can't believe anyone could be out here in this and not be frozen to death. Can I offer you a lift?"

Something about this man told her that he wasn't some maniac out to harm her. His voice was warm and concerned.

"Please and thank you," Lucy replied, heaving a sigh of relief.

He came around the car and held the door open for her. "I'll take your bags."

Lucy slipped into the passenger seat, grateful to be out of the wind and snow. A moment later they were back on the road and Lucy was able to get a better look at her knight in shining armor. He wore a long brown overcoat and gray woolen mittens. Beneath the hat was a full head of chestnut brown hair. He must have noticed her watching him, because he smiled awkwardly as he tried to keep his eye on the road.

"I'm Marco," he said.

Lucy blushed and introduced herself.

They made small talk most of the night. Dawn was nearly approaching when they found a diner next door to a garage. The mechanic brought the Chevy in and promised to have it ready in a few hours.

"I hate to just leave you here," Marco said. "Can I buy you breakfast?"

Lucy hesitated. Marco was all ready kind enough to help her out and she didn't want to jinx it by taking further advantage of him. "I could do with a cup of coffee."

"So what's bringing you to the Windy City?" He asked after the waitress brought them their coffee.

"Oh, I have some relatives out there." She lied. As tired as she was she was certain she'd fail the audition. There was no point in bringing someone else down with her false hope. "I just wanted to get away from it all."

"I know the feeling. With my kind of life I'm always on the move. I can never stay in one place for too long."

"Well, I'm glad you were on the move tonight. I could have frozen to death out there."

"I doubt that." Marco said, with a smile that was warmer than the coffee.

Lucy returned the smile. "What makes you say that?"

"About a mile from your car in the freezing wind, you were like Joan of Arc facing the English army. Not many women could have gotten as far as you did tonight."

In that moment, Lucy was certain God had answered her prayers. Maybe this was a good sign after all.

Chicago

The hours since they parted ways seemed like days as she waited in the dressing room with about thirty other women. Lucy was still tired from her ordeal, only managing a few hours of sleep before she had to get to the theater. Coffee kept her awake and makeup kept her from looking like Frankenstein's monster as she rehearsed the monologue she had prepared.

After watching several of the girls go home disappointed, she finally heard her name.

"Lucy Windham, you're next."

Lucy finished her coffee and took a deep breath.

Win or lose, Lucy. Here's your chance.

She followed the director's assistant to the spot on the stage and faced her toughest audience yet; three strangers whom she could barely make out in the dimness. There was some whispering.

"Good afternoon Ms. Windham," an unfamiliar voice called out. "I understand you had a bit of difficulty getting into town this morning."

How did he know that? She wondered.

"Well, you know how these roads can get." She said.

"I hope it won't affect your audition." The last remark was followed by more whispering.

"No sir."

"Whenever you're ready."

"I have chosen the monologue from Joan of Arc, act two, scene two."

Lucy remembered Marco's words and how the monologue had brought her strength the night before. She threw her entire body into the audition, combining her small amount of suffering, strength and confidence to sell the image of a lonely peasant girl who was ready to take on an entire kingdom all by herself. In the end she wasn't even sure she had passed the audition but somehow it didn't matter. This was what she loved and it was what she worked for.

"Absolutely perfect!" Came a more familiar voice accompanied with applause.

"Marco?"

Marco left his seat and came into the light, grinning sheepishly.

"Small world," he said. "I guess I was right about you."

The director had his assistant send the other girls home. Although he had his doubts, it was Marco who was in charge of the casting and clearly the choice had been made long ago.

"I wrote this play a while ago," Marco explained as they sat on the stage, side by side. "It's about certain…parts of my life, with a little embellishment of course. I needed a strong woman to play the character I had in mind and none of these girls quite fit the bill."

"I don't know if I should feel flattered, or not." Lucy said. She didn't want to jinx it, but she had to know. "Did you give me the part based on my talent or because you thought I was a damsel in distress who needed a break?"

"You were hardly a damsel in distress last night. I saw real determination in you and I couldn't believe my luck when you came onto the stage. I'd be honored if you accepted the part."