At around three in the morning Layla gave up entirely on sleep. Nervous excitement and impatient anticipation barely permitted her to close her eyes. Jotaro, her Jojo, would be arriving at the airport in eight hours. Those hours seemed so long and so short all at the same time.

Tying her comfy but worn pink terrycloth robe, she exited the bedroom she had moved into at the Joestar's apartment. She had moved in according to their employment agreement, but only partially. Choosing to keep her apartment, she knew she would require a haven to take a break from Joseph occasionally. Although she loved him, the man could be a bit much. Plus she wanted a place where she and Jotaro could have a bit of privacy away from his grandparents when he visited.

Her room was located beside theirs on the second floor. Pausing at their door, she pressed her ear to the thin wood and listened. All was quiet except for Joseph's chainsaw like snores. She wondered how in the world Grandma Suzi slept through that racket. Earplugs maybe?

Smiling to herself, Layla continued down the curved open staircase to the living room and then to the kitchen. Should she have coffee or tea? Her nerves were on edge and insomnia was already a problem so she certainly did not need the caffeine. Tea? No. The thought of tea only made her yearn for Jotaro's arrival more.

Hot milk is supposed to be good for inducing sleep. She grimaced while scanning the cabinets. But hot milk is gross. There was a canister of powdered cocoa by the glass jars of loose tea. Hot cocoa sounded good so she gathered the milk, powdered cocoa, and sugar to begin making it from scratch.

While the cocoa simmered, Layla opened the bag of pillowy soft big marshmallows. Popping one in her mouth, she chewed the sugary treat while absentmindedly stirring the chocolatey mixture in the pot.

"Can't sleep?" Joseph asked behind her almost scaring her out of her wits.

Thankfully the marshmallow in her mouth kept her from screaming from the fright but did not keep her from turning and flinging the wooden spoon at him like a throwing knife. The spoon smacked him square in the forehead leaving a red spot and chocolate smears.

"Ow! Holy shit," Joseph muttered, rubbing his sore forehead.

Droplets of brown milk speckled the white floor and counter as well as Joseph's face and royal blue silk pajamas. Although he often acted rough around the edges and did not care for too many frills in life, occasionally Joseph liked to indulge in the better things. Or rather his wife did. Suzi Q. had bought him those fancy silky PJs in Japan on one of their many shopping trips during their extended visit.

"I'm not sorry, you know," Layla snapped, ripping off a paper towel to begin mopping up the spots before they dried to become sticky residue. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Have you slept at all?" he asked her, handing her the spoon as he straddled one of the stools on the other side of the counter from her.

"Not one bit," she sighed, placing the spoon in the sink in favor of grabbing a ladle to serve up the hot cocoa. "Want some?"

"Sure. No marshmallows for me though," he said as she picked up the bag. "Gotta watch my girlish figure."

"Good. I didn't want to share anyway," she returned with a playful smile, handing him the chunky black mug. "You have a very nice figure Grandpa Joe."

"Well, thank you, my dear," he returned, puffing out his chest with pride. He could not hide the little lopsided smirk on his face before he raised his mug to his lips.

"For a man your age," she added to quickly put his ego in check.

"Oh," he grunted, pressing his hand to his chest as if she had shot him with an arrow. Then he smiled a sincere, sweet smile, his green eyes sparkling in the dim light from over the stove. "That's one of the things I like about you, Layla, you keep me grounded."

"Someone has to." She giggled as she poked her fingers into the bag to grab another marshmallow. Rather than dropping the marshmallow in her cup, she tossed it in her mouth. "What are you doing up? Did I wake you? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Joseph waved a dismissive hand. "No. It wasn't you. I just don't sleep as well as I used to."

Guilty conscience?, Layla thought but refrained from saying it. She did not want to take a mean spirited stab at him about the affair when he had been trying to deal with it in his own way.

"Have you thought anymore about using your psychic photography to find out if you have another child in Japan?" she inquired gently, genuinely curious. She would like to know if there is another Joestar out there since she was almost a Joestar child herself.

"Not yet. I'm just afraid of knowing the truth I guess. I mean..." He exhaled a long breath, holding the mug between both of his hands as if he had caught a sudden chill. "What would I do? What would I say to Suzi? To Tomoko?"

Well, good on him for actually remembering the woman's name. Once again, she chose silence as the best and least injurious option, and sipped her hot cocoa. It tasted like liquid dark chocolate since she did not use much sugar.

"I don't know. Do you like the cocoa?" she asked to swiftly change subjects as a tense and heavy silence pressed in around them.

He nodded. "It's good. Everything you do is good."

Layla felt herself blush with pleasure and a little embarrassment at his overreaching compliment. She was no saint. She had no illusions about that. Her intent was not to keep hammering him with guilt about the affair but to understand why he did it. However, no one can truly understand unless they were a party directly involved in the situation and experienced the circumstances leading up to it.

"Don't think too highly of me. I'm still human. I still make mistakes. Give me time. I'm sure I will make some big ones in the future," she said as an attempt to alleviate the inner turmoil she could clearly see on his drawn face that had paled. She pressed her hand to his forearm. "We all make mistakes."

"Yeah."

The pervasive tension lifted but the silence remained. Their occasional noisy slurps of the hot liquid was the only sound puncturing the quiet.

"Come with me," Joseph ordered her in a low voice. "There's something I want to show you."

Snagging one last marshmallow, Layla took her mug with her to follow him to his study. Study is a loose term for the room where Joseph stored all of his artifacts, documents, and tons of random crap he had collected through his years of exploring the weird, wonderful, and often terrifying things this world had to offer.

Floor to ceiling bookshelves on two of the walls held hundreds, possibly thousands of books, as well as masks, statues, and other items both found and gifted to him. Framed plaques and certificates covered another wall. The third wall was a window that looked out over the nearby park offering a better view than the high rise buildings, constant traffic, and city light she saw from her loft.

"Sit down," he invited her, pointing to the mahogany brown leather couch.

Layla sank into the cool, smooth leather to watch him unstack a column of boxes to reach the bottom one. She quietly observed him rifling through the white box, pondering what in the world he could be looking for because of the expression of serious concentration on his face. When his eyebrows parted and the corners of his mouth lifted into a wistful smile, she assumed he had found what he was searching for.

With the thick photo album in hand, Joseph came to sit down beside her. For a moment, he stared at the giant brown leather bound book. His wide fingertips brushed lovingly over the cover before he finally turned to look at her.

"Would you like to see your grandfather?" he inquired, his voice a low rumble from his chest.

Layla eagerly nodded her head as a knot of emotion formed in her throat.

"I met your grandfather in January of nineteen thirty-nine," he began opening the cover to reveal a black white photo of the two of them.

The two men were standing in front of a fountain in Rome, Italy. They had their arms draped around each other's necks and grinned huge cheesy grins at the camera.

"We first met at this fountain," he said, giving her a sidelong glance. "You look a lot like him."

Layla stared in awe at her grandfather. Since the photo was black and white, she could only assume she got his blond hair since it appeared almost white. His eyes appeared to be a light color as well because of the grey shading in the photograph.

"What color were his eyes?" she asked, studying his handsome face. She did share a lot of his facial features. Her eyes kept going back to the almost triangular shaped birthmarks at the corners of his eyes.

"Green," Joseph replied, turning the page.

"Like yours?"

"No. A lighter green. More of a lime green I guess. They kind of..." He paused, sighing with the nostalgia that washed over him. "Glowed."

Layla swallowed as the lump in her throat grew bigger. The soft, breathy manner in which Joseph spoke sounded like the way a man talked about someone he deeply loved - possibly someone he was in love with. Her eyes followed his fingers as they traced her grandfather's face in the picture where the two of them flanked a beautiful young woman with long black hair. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her hot cocoa.

"Who is that?" she inquired noticing how he reluctantly drew his fingers away.

"That was your grandfather's Ripple teacher. She became my Ripple teacher as well. I knew her at first as Lisa Lisa. I met Suzi Q there. She was her assistant. Later, I found out, Lisa Lisa was my mother," he told her, reaching for Layla's hand.

"Your mother was gorgeous," she said, placing her hand inside his much bigger one. She felt like a child being comforted by her father, although he was probably the one needing comforting. "She looks so young."

Layla glanced at Joseph's face and the wrinkles that seemed to have suddenly gotten deeper. He had lost so many people he loved. She wondered why he had not used Ripple to preserve his youthful appearance. Maybe he did not use it to prolong his life because he did not want Suzi Q to grow old alone. Joseph really did love his wife.

"I guess you could say it's an interesting side effect of using Ripple. It revitalizes the user and makes them age slower," Joseph explained. "Your grandfather was a powerful Ripple user. I wonder what he would look like now if..."

A melancholic smile tilted her lips as she gazed at Joseph whose face tensed when he started reliving the events of that moment like a waking nightmare. His facial muscles slowly unwound as his heartbreaking recollection of his friend's death morphed into full fledged mourning.

Layla lay her head on his giant bicep. Her fingers tightened around his hand holding hers. His muscle flexed under her cheek when he turned the page of the album.

"We met the Pillar Men there and battled them," he said although she already knew from the documents she had read like an adventure novel in the Speedwagon archives.

Despite all of the written documentation, Layla had never seen a photograph of her grandfather before. She stared at each one with rapt attention, listening to Joseph's story behind each one like a child listening to a bedtime story while she sipped her hot cocoa.

She laughed at the picture of the two of them standing beside an airplane. Their arms were hooked around each other's necks, their cheeks pressed together, as if they had caught each other in a mutual headlock. Joseph was wearing a leather aviator's hat and googles on his head, and Caesar wore his usual headband and feathers decorating his fluffy blond hair. Both men had one eye closed in a wink and had held up their fingers in victory sign.

"You sure were a handsome devil, Joseph Joestar," she remarked, her eyes drawn away from his broad toothy smile to her grandfather's birthmarks.

"Why are you saying it like it's all in the past, girl? I'm damn good looking now," he quipped, thumping himself on his broad chest as if to congratulate himself on his appearance.

Layla exhaled noisily. Despite his lack of humility, he was not wrong.

"Yes, yes you are," she agreed, patting him on the chest.

"You know we Joestar's have our star," he said, leaning forward and pulling down his collar as if she had not seen it a hundred times before during health examinations. "Do you have the Zeppeli birthmarks like Caesar?"

"You've shown me yours so you expect me to show you mine?" she questioned him, being purposely suggestive to add a little levity to the atmosphere.

"Well..." Joseph massaged the back of his neck over his distinctive purple star birthmark. "I've never seen a birthmark on you so I can't help but be curious as to where - "

"If you really want to know where they are, ask your grandson," she cut him off, giving him a wink.

"Oh, my god," he murmured, his cheeks turning pink.

She almost spit out her sip of cocoa but forced it down her throat with an audible and painful gulp.

"There not anywhere exotic like that, you goof. They're on my shoulder blades."

"Your shoulder blades?" He sounded a little disappointed.

"As a little girl, I imagined I should have had wings."

"Wings?" he returned, with a good naturedly mocking smile on his face.

"Hey, I was a child," she rejoined to defend her silly, childish fantasy. "Not angel's wings though. I have no illusions about myself. After seeing my grandfather's affinity for feathers, I'm tempted to get a tattoo of wings coming out of the birthmarks in his honor."

"Tattoos huh? Are you sure that's not one of those decisions you'd regret. Good girls don't get tattoos," he teased her.

"I never claimed to be a good girl," she rejoined, flipping the page to avoid looking at what she was sure was a lecherous grin on his face.

Joseph Joestar was a shameless and apologetic flirt. Probably always had been his entire life. Honestly, she could not really blame Tomoko for falling for this lovable idiot's charms.

"Should I ask Jotaro about that?" he joked in return.

Layla giggled and elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

"Not unless you want him to punch your lights out."

"Yeah," he agreed, rubbing his jaw as if considering how much it would hurt. "I'm sure you're right."

"Want some more hot cocoa?" she asked, standing up from the couch.

As much as she enjoyed hearing about her grandfather and taking the trip down memory lane with him to reminisce about their wacky and wonderful adventures, Layla could tell Joseph needed a break. He looked tired and looked a little pale still.

"No, thank you," he said, his voice breathy, almost weak as his eyes went back to the photo album.

"Do you need a minute?"

"Yeah." He gave her a sad but appreciative smile, his green irises shining brightly under his tears.

"I love you, Granddaddy," she said, giving him an impish smile.

Joseph laughed loudly then caught himself and quieted down before he woke Suzi Q. He smiled broadly up at Layla giving her that huge, cheesy grin she had seen in so many of the photos. That was the reaction she had been hoping for to banish his sadness.

"I like it when you call me Daddy."

Layla did not take his statement as something dirty or flirty especially considering the pained expression on his face. He almost was her adoptive father after all.

"Thank you for telling me about my grandfather. I know it wasn't easy for you." She bent to press a kiss to his forehead. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

She left him to be alone with his memories, the good and the bad, and to grieve for his best friend.

~\'/~

Layla bounced excitedly on her tiptoes as she stood in the middle of the airport terminal near the indicated gate. Joseph had given Jotaro a ticket for a commercial flight at his grandson's request. First class of course. Only the best for his grandson despite his refusal of a private flight courtesy of the Speedwagon Foundation.

Standing head and shoulders above everyone else, she easily spotted Jotaro coming down the boarding bridge. Her heart galloped away from her, and she reminded herself to breathe. She wanted to run to him, to fling herself into his arms, but she stayed rooted to the spot, shaking from the inside out as he approached her.

The first shocking thing she noted about his appearance was that he was not wearing his hat. Once he appeared at the end of the tunnel, she saw he had ditched the school uniform at last in favor of a white button down shirt and black slacks with a long black blazer of it. Not much of a difference really except he appeared to have upgraded his look from juvenile delinquent high school student to exhausted businessman. He still wore the same shoes though.

"Hi," Jotaro greeted her, gazing down at her.

"Hi," Layla whispered in return, tears of joy leaking from her eyes and racing down her cheeks to drip off her jaw.

"Well, is that anyway to greet the man you love?" he questioned her, dropping his carry-on bags at his feet.

"It's not," she agreed, jumping up to put her arms around his brawny neck.

His powerful arms circled her waist, holding her against his chest as she embraced him. Pulling her head back with a tug on her ponytail, he kissed her lips. The first kiss was brief, tentative, a little bit shy considering they were in public. Then, onlookers be damned, he smashed his lips against hers giving her a long hard kiss as if to make up for the many he had missed in the time they had been separated.

"Jojo," she whispered when he lifted his mouth from hers. But it was only a short break in the kiss before he pressed his lips back to hers. She pled with him between pecks, "Jojo...please...we...should...go."

When Jotaro ducked his head, diving back down for another kiss, Layla pressed her hand against his mouth to block him. She drew in air noisily, having had her breath completely stolen by his insistent, amorous kisses.

"I have my father's car. It goes a hundred thirty miles an hour. My apartment is fifteen minutes away," she panted, her eyes flickering between his tempting lips and half closed ocean blue eyes. "I called ahead before coming to the airport to have your luggage delivered there."

"So I'll be staying with you at your place?" He embraced her tightly.

"Uh huh. We can have a lot of privacy there," she whispered in his ear, nipping his earlobe.

"Let's go," he said, setting her down on her feet .

Layla took Jotaro by the hand to lead the way to the exit. Although she was almost running, he only had to walk a little faster to keep up with her. The car waited for them in a reserved space right outside one of the sets of automatic doors that opened to allow them to leave the terminal. Being a well respected doctor's daughter had its perks.

"How is Grandma Suzi?" he asked as she opened the trunk for him to throw in his bags.

"She's doing great," she replied, closing the lid and trotting to the driver's side door. "Just as cheerful as ever. I wish I could be that happy and positive all the time. That's where your mother gets it for sure. How's your Mom?"

"The same. Annoyingly chipper and doting like always. So how's the old man?" Jotaro asked her, sliding into the passenger's seat as she cranked the car.

"He's really good. We had a nice discussion about my grandfather this morning," she said, stepping on the gas before he even had his door closed.

"Holy shit," he muttered, slamming the door. "Did you sleep at all? You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks, sweetie. It's your fault because I was missing you so much and couldn't wait for you to get here," she retorted, sliding him sidelong glimpse. "You look great. I like the new look."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I'm only trying it out," he said, running his fingers through his uncapped hair self-consciously.

"Mother fucker," she muttered.

Layla slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting the taxi that cut her off, throwing both of them forward. She rolled down her window and raised a middle finger to the impatient cabbie who moved over right on top of her to merge into traffic. When they stopped at the red light, she rolled down her window and poked her head out of the car.

"You nearly hit me, asshole!" she shrieked at him.

"Ah fuck you lady," the man shouted back at her, giving her a one finger salute this time.

"NO! Fuck you, asshole!" she screamed back at the man who waved at her as he drove off when the light turned green.

"You're charming as ever," Jotaro chuckled when she leaned on the horn.

"I'm sleep deprived so I will admit my personality is not at its best," she said, stomping on the gas pedal. The tires screeched as the car lurched forward.

"Whoa," he gasped, grabbing his seatbelt and putting it on. "Do you always drive this badly?"

"I'm finally with the man I love after a month and half so I'm in a little bit of a hurry."

The rest of the drive to her apartment building did not involve any more near misses or confrontations with fellow drivers. Layla parked in a space near the elevator of the underground garage.

"I thought you were supposed to be living with my grandparents," Jotaro said as they rode up the rickety freight elevator closed in only by an accordion gate.

"I am, and I do...but I wanted to keep my apartment for a little while. Especially for your visit," she explained, grabbing the lapels of his jacket to pull him toward her. She pressed her face into his chest, crying happy and relieved tears. "I've missed you so much."

Jotaro smoothed his hand across her hair back to her ponytail then gliding his hand down the back of her head to her neck. He put his other arm around her shoulders to embrace her tightly. It felt so good to hold her again. However, there was a nagging ache in his chest he could not ignore.

He tried not to think about the long separations looming ahead of them. He would be staying for two weeks before he had to return home to go to the university for a campus tour in addition to finalizing his classes and living arrangements. Another trip to the US was already planned for the end of summer before his classes began.

Christmas would definitely require another visit. Perhaps she and his grandparents would come to Japan to celebrate Christmas and New Years. He could not think of a better way to start a new year than kissing her then making love to her.

Then there was their already scheduled meeting in February, a year from when they first met. Although the time was mostly set, the place still had yet to be determined. He would have to get her another protection omamori to replace the one he had given her. Perhaps he should buy an en-musubi as well to strengthen their bond while separated and ensure their continued relationship.

Jotaro did not believe in all of that romantic red string of fate crap but based on their family history he had indeed been destined to meet her. His heartstrings told him he was already tied to her. His hand took hold of hers, squeezing it possessively. She was his. He had no idea what the future held for them exactly, but he knew he wanted Layla to be a part of his life, his friend and lover, as long as he lived. Hoping against hope, flying in the face of cold hard, logic, he prayed the mystical red cord would never break no matter how far it had to stretch or twisted it became to keep them connected.

"We're here," she said, pulling him forward. She noticed the slightly dazed and far away look in his eyes when she pulled her hand from his to unlock the door of her apartment. "Are you okay?"

"Tired. Jet lag, I guess," he excused his behavior away.

Layla opened the door and walked inside, leaving Jotaro to close it and lock it behind them. She tossed her keys onto the counter and opened the refrigerator to grab bottles of water.

Jotaro turned in a circle taking in the whole apartment in that short glance. It wasn't difficult to see everything considering it was a completely open floor plan with no walls except for the boxed in space upstairs in the loft bedroom which he assumed to be the bathroom. He dropped his bags in the living room beside the beige suede couch the back of which was only five feet from the barstools at the kitchen counter.

"Nice place," he complimented, taking the bottle of water from her.

"Since you're jet lagged, do you want to take a nap?" she inquired, heading up the metal stairs before he could answer.

"Not yet," he replied, following her up.

Layla sat on the edge on the her king sized bed that took up most of the loft platform.

Jotaro stood at the end of the gigantic bed without a headboard or footboard. He had expected her to have prissy, ornate furniture; perhaps Louis the fourteenth style and all in white. Her home decorating style was surprisingly minimalist and plain lacking frills and unnecessary decorative elements.

Taking off his jacket, he tossed it onto the dark purple cushion of the papasan chair in the corner. Sitting down on the bed beside her, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and cradled the back of her head in his palm.

Layla leaned into him, resting her cheek against his chest. She felt so warm and protected in his strong arms. When he held her, she was sure no harm would come to her.

"I've missed this. I've missed...us," he added tentatively.

"Us," she repeated, closing her eyes. "I like the sound of there being an us."

Jotaro could feel her muscles loosening even more, her body becoming limp in his arms. Her face pressed more firmly against his heart when he began stroking her back. Enclosing her shoulders with his arms, he lay back on the bed while cuddling her close to his body. Her breathing deepened, becoming more regularly paced.

"One day I want to marry you," he whispered, staring up at the bare metal beams across her ceiling.

"You have to graduate from the university first," she mumbled sleepily.

"I thought you were asleep." He smiled, hugging her to him with the arm around her shoulders. "Are you always gong to keep me waiting?"

"Hey, it's not like I want to wait either, but it's in your best interests."

"You know, the old man was nineteen when he married Grandma Suzi. Look how long they've been together. They're just as in love now as when they first got married."

Suddenly Layla found herself wide awake and feeling a little queasy.

"Nineteen, huh. Well, in that case, you'd still have to wait a year," she said, propping up on her elbow to look at his face.

His eyes shifted to meet hers. "A year then. Is that a promise?"

Layla's head felt like it was spinning. These Joestar men had a tendency to move fast - too fast for her. Being around them made her head swim. She couldn't keep up with their pace. They lived life on fast forward as if desperate to outrun their curse. They made decisions far too quickly and without much forethought of the far reaching implications. Surely it was this same rashness that caused Joseph Joestar to fall into the temptation that resulted in his infidelity.

How could they not live fast seeking to squeeze every drop of happiness out of life? Her grandfather lived life quickly too. Caesar Zeppili had died at twenty after all yet he left four children behind. One of those children had been her mother. If he had not been a bit of a horny devil, getting busy having a family so young, she would not exist. However, she could not bring herself to be so impulsive or careless. It wasn't just her future she had to consider.

"No, that is most definitely not a promise," she chuckled lightly as if to banish the dark cloud that wanted to engulf her. Leaning down, she placed a gentle peck on his lips. "How about this? You graduate, then we can get married. You can take me a on sailing trip around the world for our honeymoon."

"Okay," he agreed, cupping her jaw to pull her head down to kiss her. "That sounds like a plan."

Layla preferred making plans. They had four years to think this through. She liked well thought out, carefully laid plans.