Author: 3.14 (pi)
Summary: Joan turns to an old friend after the death of someone close to
her.
Spoilers: none really (only small references), this is a somewhat AU future fic with little reference to current goings on. This was almost all written before State of Grace, so no references past there.
Disclaimer: Duh, none of the stuff you recognise is mine – it belongs to CBS, Hall, et al. Anyone you don't recognise is a product of my so called imagination.
Reviews: please, I don't normally write, so any criticism is appreciated. If you have any suggestions to improve this chapter - tell me. Also- I seem to have lost all motivation to write, so reviews might prompt something in that department (or at least get me working harder on typing what I have written). This was both written and typed in the wee hours of the morning, so I apologise for any glaring errors of the spelling or grammar variety. As well as for my utter lack of style, wit, or writing ability of any kind (don't know how I pulled off that A on my English final).
Authors notes: Sorry bout the formatting or lack thereof. Hope you enjoy this chapter, cause I think it's my favourite, and due to drastic changes in direction, it's now the end of what I have written. This means that you basically know as well as I do where this story is going. It will probably be a while till I write more because a) I'm not a writer and b) I lack motivation or direction (although reviews could change that). I do intend to finish the story though, so don't give up on it yet, I can't go leaving my one and only foray into the writing world incomplete. (Especially since my friend, with little writing skill, is churning out the best story I've ever read. I'm green with evil envy). Thanks again for reading this far, now on to the story:
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The large mastiff tore wildly through the park, his leash trailing behind in the wind. The playground was quite full for this time of year, owing to unseasonably warm weather coupled with the fact that there were always more kids there during school holidays. There were even some kids playing baseball and a clown selling balloons, both of which were usually left to the summer months, and not the middle of March. The dog weaved frantically around several children on his mad dash to god knows where. He had been sitting calmly just moments ago, when a small child nearby fell and popped the large bright red balloon she'd been holding. The big chicken of a dog got spooked by the sound and took off on his rampage through the sandbox and the flower beds (or former flower beds), pulling his owner right off her feet as he went.
"Linc! STOP! Come Linc! ...Lincoln – come here right now!"
The dog began to slow his run through the park, turning his ears back toward the voice. Slowly, he turned around, and began calmly loping back to where he had stood only moments before. His petite owner had picked herself up from the ground, and proceeded to wipe one of her dirty palms on the dog while grabbing his lead firmly in the other. She looked around sheepishly at the kids and their parents, all of whom were staring at her and Linc.
"Linc, you big goof, It was just a balloon!" Joan Girardi joked, laughing as she scratched behind her dog's big floppy ear. She was so focused on petting the dog, praising him for coming when she called, that she didn't even notice a little girl coming to stand behind her, watching. It was the young balloon owner. A young girl who looked to be about six years old, with pigtails and mismatched clothes. None of the mothers sitting on the near-by benches paid her any mind. She didn't belong to one of them, and despite the fact that she was too young to be there alone, she seemed to have no one with her. The child suddenly spoke, startling Joan and causing her to turn in surprise and recognition. "It's good to laugh, Joan. You haven't really done that in a while." The voice sounded wise beyond it's very few years, something that seemed to anger Joan. "This is a new look for you, well, a really old one really. Haven't seen you in a while. And in case you weren't paying attention, I don't mean the little girl." Joan glared down at the child, who just stared back through large eyes framed by goofy glasses. As her anger level grew at the lack of response, Joan's volume level increased to a very muted shout. "Where were you when I needed you?" she hissed, "I'm finally putting my life back together so you decide to show up?"
"Now, Joan, I've been around and you know it. Not just in an omnipresent kinda way either."
"Sure, you showed up once, after the fact, and only to give me another of your missions, quests, whatever you want to call 'ems. You didn't even try to help me with my pain – Snippy Bastard!" This last bit was especially hushed to keep from corrupting the young minds of the parks other occupants, too young to know how to swear.
"Of course I helped, Joan. You wrote Adam, like I said. That helped a lot, didn't it? Plus, I helped old Lincoln here give you a good laugh just now, didn't I? Speaking of Linc, he really is a great dog. Really boosts your spirits, having him around. You're not the only one who's spirits could use a lift, Joan. Kevin's kids could use a little cheering up. Spending time with their only aunt and a great dog like Linc could really help that."
"So, what – you kill their Dad but you still want them to be happy? You're The almighty being, you couldn't have saved Kevin and spared them the pain to start with? You..."
Joan stopped talking as she realised that the little girl, who only she knew to be god, was already walking away. As she left, littlegirlgod called back, "have fun Joan," and waved casually over her shoulder. She left without so much as a glance back at the young woman or her canine companion. Sighing exasperatedly, Joan patted her dog on the head and began walking home. Apparently, she had a trip back home to Arcadia to pack for. Something told her she shouldn't pack light – she might be staying for a while.
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A.N: In case you wondered, Lincoln was the result of a task Joan was assigned a while back, and thus is a direct result of her communicating with the almighty. He, as a dog, was instantly a necessary character, as all good stories have pets. Plus, his name is the same as one of my (6) pet rats and Joan of Arc's best friend in the excellent but little seen cartoon Clone High. This is cause my rat Lincoln is my BF, Abe is Clone Joan's (my little homage to obscure tv) and doggies are man's, so in my crazy logic it makes perfect sense for that to be the dog's name (plus it looked cool).
A.N2: ooh, two in one day (well, overnight technically- I had to stay up to reset my system so I can start getting up like three hours earlier for Co-op). I'll try to get some more chapters typed as fast as I can and in the meantime I can hopefully start to write Ch. 7 on paper - anyone got any ideas on where this should go? Seriously, I totally lost my train of thought as to where this was going (all I remember was I wanted to do a chapter with Janey) so e-mail any ideas to lemonlymandotcom@hotmail.com thanx.
Spoilers: none really (only small references), this is a somewhat AU future fic with little reference to current goings on. This was almost all written before State of Grace, so no references past there.
Disclaimer: Duh, none of the stuff you recognise is mine – it belongs to CBS, Hall, et al. Anyone you don't recognise is a product of my so called imagination.
Reviews: please, I don't normally write, so any criticism is appreciated. If you have any suggestions to improve this chapter - tell me. Also- I seem to have lost all motivation to write, so reviews might prompt something in that department (or at least get me working harder on typing what I have written). This was both written and typed in the wee hours of the morning, so I apologise for any glaring errors of the spelling or grammar variety. As well as for my utter lack of style, wit, or writing ability of any kind (don't know how I pulled off that A on my English final).
Authors notes: Sorry bout the formatting or lack thereof. Hope you enjoy this chapter, cause I think it's my favourite, and due to drastic changes in direction, it's now the end of what I have written. This means that you basically know as well as I do where this story is going. It will probably be a while till I write more because a) I'm not a writer and b) I lack motivation or direction (although reviews could change that). I do intend to finish the story though, so don't give up on it yet, I can't go leaving my one and only foray into the writing world incomplete. (Especially since my friend, with little writing skill, is churning out the best story I've ever read. I'm green with evil envy). Thanks again for reading this far, now on to the story:
-------------------
The large mastiff tore wildly through the park, his leash trailing behind in the wind. The playground was quite full for this time of year, owing to unseasonably warm weather coupled with the fact that there were always more kids there during school holidays. There were even some kids playing baseball and a clown selling balloons, both of which were usually left to the summer months, and not the middle of March. The dog weaved frantically around several children on his mad dash to god knows where. He had been sitting calmly just moments ago, when a small child nearby fell and popped the large bright red balloon she'd been holding. The big chicken of a dog got spooked by the sound and took off on his rampage through the sandbox and the flower beds (or former flower beds), pulling his owner right off her feet as he went.
"Linc! STOP! Come Linc! ...Lincoln – come here right now!"
The dog began to slow his run through the park, turning his ears back toward the voice. Slowly, he turned around, and began calmly loping back to where he had stood only moments before. His petite owner had picked herself up from the ground, and proceeded to wipe one of her dirty palms on the dog while grabbing his lead firmly in the other. She looked around sheepishly at the kids and their parents, all of whom were staring at her and Linc.
"Linc, you big goof, It was just a balloon!" Joan Girardi joked, laughing as she scratched behind her dog's big floppy ear. She was so focused on petting the dog, praising him for coming when she called, that she didn't even notice a little girl coming to stand behind her, watching. It was the young balloon owner. A young girl who looked to be about six years old, with pigtails and mismatched clothes. None of the mothers sitting on the near-by benches paid her any mind. She didn't belong to one of them, and despite the fact that she was too young to be there alone, she seemed to have no one with her. The child suddenly spoke, startling Joan and causing her to turn in surprise and recognition. "It's good to laugh, Joan. You haven't really done that in a while." The voice sounded wise beyond it's very few years, something that seemed to anger Joan. "This is a new look for you, well, a really old one really. Haven't seen you in a while. And in case you weren't paying attention, I don't mean the little girl." Joan glared down at the child, who just stared back through large eyes framed by goofy glasses. As her anger level grew at the lack of response, Joan's volume level increased to a very muted shout. "Where were you when I needed you?" she hissed, "I'm finally putting my life back together so you decide to show up?"
"Now, Joan, I've been around and you know it. Not just in an omnipresent kinda way either."
"Sure, you showed up once, after the fact, and only to give me another of your missions, quests, whatever you want to call 'ems. You didn't even try to help me with my pain – Snippy Bastard!" This last bit was especially hushed to keep from corrupting the young minds of the parks other occupants, too young to know how to swear.
"Of course I helped, Joan. You wrote Adam, like I said. That helped a lot, didn't it? Plus, I helped old Lincoln here give you a good laugh just now, didn't I? Speaking of Linc, he really is a great dog. Really boosts your spirits, having him around. You're not the only one who's spirits could use a lift, Joan. Kevin's kids could use a little cheering up. Spending time with their only aunt and a great dog like Linc could really help that."
"So, what – you kill their Dad but you still want them to be happy? You're The almighty being, you couldn't have saved Kevin and spared them the pain to start with? You..."
Joan stopped talking as she realised that the little girl, who only she knew to be god, was already walking away. As she left, littlegirlgod called back, "have fun Joan," and waved casually over her shoulder. She left without so much as a glance back at the young woman or her canine companion. Sighing exasperatedly, Joan patted her dog on the head and began walking home. Apparently, she had a trip back home to Arcadia to pack for. Something told her she shouldn't pack light – she might be staying for a while.
------------------
A.N: In case you wondered, Lincoln was the result of a task Joan was assigned a while back, and thus is a direct result of her communicating with the almighty. He, as a dog, was instantly a necessary character, as all good stories have pets. Plus, his name is the same as one of my (6) pet rats and Joan of Arc's best friend in the excellent but little seen cartoon Clone High. This is cause my rat Lincoln is my BF, Abe is Clone Joan's (my little homage to obscure tv) and doggies are man's, so in my crazy logic it makes perfect sense for that to be the dog's name (plus it looked cool).
A.N2: ooh, two in one day (well, overnight technically- I had to stay up to reset my system so I can start getting up like three hours earlier for Co-op). I'll try to get some more chapters typed as fast as I can and in the meantime I can hopefully start to write Ch. 7 on paper - anyone got any ideas on where this should go? Seriously, I totally lost my train of thought as to where this was going (all I remember was I wanted to do a chapter with Janey) so e-mail any ideas to lemonlymandotcom@hotmail.com thanx.