Mini-dedication: Unusual as it is, I must dedicate the last half of this chapter to the soundtrack to the movie 50 First Dates. The soundtrack just kicks major ass and has been the source of ammo against the writer's block I had while writing this chapter.

Chapter Eleven: ... The Impending Storm

She had forgotten that this whole thing had started because of a simple little suggestion. God had asked if she could visit Mr. Price in the hospital... so she did. She made a one time visit, actually benefited from it because she had gotten to see a side to Price that she never knew existed, and that was it. God then made another little suggestion; continue to visit Price. God wasn't specific as to the when, but made a point to suggest that it should be as often as possible before Price was to leave its grounds. So, with as much reluctance and guilt, she did.

And though Joan Giradi will not verbally admit it, she was glad that God made the suggestions. Joan couldn't quite figure out the relief that came with doing this task until she found herself sitting alone in Mr. Price's private quarters. She had asked Doctor Wyatt's permission if she could wait for Price in his room during his time in recovery. Wyatt had approved, thinking that it would do no harm and that his patient could probably benefit from the company awaiting him in his room.

So Joan sat in Price's room, thinking about the past few days and wondering why she seemed so determined to separate this part of her life to everything else. Maybe it had to do with the fact that this was a welcomed distraction from the everyday drama she normally had to endure. Upon reflection, Joan realized that as she woke up this morning, she never woke up to feel the anxiety she had to face once more seeing Adam with Iris, or the impending doom of another chemistry class, or even dread at the thought of God showing up.

Or maybe... fear? Joan wouldn't deny that she was afraid to tell Adam and Grace about her first visit with Price. What would they say? How would they react?... questions that otherwise continued to plague Joan with each moment passed as she found herself getting away with keeping this secret. Like a ticking bomb just waiting to explode and Joan was merely on borrowed time. This caused Joan to ponder Kevin's lecture from the night before... could there be some truth to his words?

Joan was caught up in such reflection that she never noticed as the weather began to shift. She had barely taken the time to notice the skies, except maybe to glance up and curse a certain being. Which is why she was startled at the beginning sounds of patter, as the rain slowly descended upon the earth. Joan turned, then standing as she began to part the drapes and stare as the tears from heaven fell. She would have normally cursed at such luck, to be stuck in a certain place because of the dour weather. However, considering that Joan had wanted to be here in the first place, she smiled.

She sat right down, softly watching the rain, and enjoying the relative peace of it all. She surprisingly let out a yawn, realizing that the quiet was having a tiring affect on her. Joan placed her head on her arms, stretched her body a bit, slipped on her earphones and allowed the mixture of soft rock and the rhythmic rain falling to lull her into slumber.

The hour quickly came and went as Joan was still softly napping as Doctor Wyatt, assisted by a nurse and an orderly, wheeled Price back from observation. Gavin Price was considerably awake, despite being a bit drowsy from the anesthesia. At the sight of the young student sleeping in the chair next to his bed, a warm smile played on his lips. He gave a questioning glance at his physician, to which Wyatt replied, "She wanted to be here when you got out of recovery."

Price nodded, allowing them to help him into his bed. His eyes were on Joan while Wyatt began explaining what he was to expect the next few weeks and what needs to be done in order to fully recover. Wyatt also added, something that he hadn't mentioned to Joan, that there was a chance that though he will walk again, he might need a support.

"You mean, like a cane?" Price asked, though trying his best to savor the mere fact that he's still capable of walking.

"Yes, at first. Considering that surgery was done on both of your legs, the extra support would take the weight off your ligaments. This doesn't essentially mean that you'll need such device for the rest of your years, but don't be surprised to find it becoming an necessity. It all depends on therapy and how fast the healing in your legs progress."

Price fell his head back on the pillows, chuckling at his situation. "Great, so basically I could be the next Johnny Smith?"

Doctor Wyatt smiled, relieved that of his patient's sense of humor. "Without the added paranormal sensory, I would say so."

"Okay, so what now? I could leave the hospital..."

"Two weeks from now I'll be administrating an examination. From there, depending on the results, we'll see. As for now, I suggest that you rest. Your lower half is still under the affects of the regional anesthesia we administered during operation, which is why you're unable to produce any feeling in your legs. However, it should wear off later in the evening."

Price gave a worried glance, prompting the doctor to confirm his fear. "Yes, there will be some residual pain. Which is why I'm prescribing medications and I'll be having a nurse come in to give them to you. Starting tonight. Is there any other questions that I could answer for you, Mr. Price? Anything that we can do for you?"

"Actually..." Price glanced over at Joan, who was still asleep and unaware of her surroundings. With an amused, somewhat fatherly concern, "Can I request a blanket for my young friend over here?"

Doctor Wyatt gave a glance in the orderly's direction, causing the young man to exit the room. To Price, "That's not a problem. Anything else?"

Shaking his head, "No, that's about it."

The orderly reentered the room, handing the folded blanket to the nurse. From there, she gently placed it over Joan, smiling softly at the young lady. Price's eyes never left Joan as Doctor Wyatt began speaking again. "Well, you know where the call button is, and if there's anything else, just let us know. Tomorrow morning I'll be back for a check up, to see if there was any unnecessary side-affects or changes."

This had caught Price's attention, once more giving a worried look towards the doctor. Wyatt, however, began reassuring his patient, "It's pretty unlikely that there will be side-affects, but it's just a precautionary measure. Nothing to worry about. It's a required procedure."

"Okay, doctor. Whatever you say... thank you." He nodded, though not as confident as he'd have like to appear. His gaze shifted back onto Joan's sleeping form as Wyatt and the others let themselves out.

Price watched Joan for a while, a gentle smile on his face. This had caused a fond memory to emerge and his own eyes to glisten sadly. Refusing to give in to nostalgia, Price quickly wiped his eyes, shook his head to possibly erase the reminiscence, and looked around to find a distraction. He reached over for the Stephen King novel and began continuing where he left off.

Alone in his thoughts, Price began quickly being filling his head with mental imagery of scenes being read in The Green Mile. Until a surprised, yet pleased voice broke his concentration.

"Hey... you're back."

His eyes turned towards the soft voice, smiling fondly at her. "Same could be said to you. Morning, young miss."

Joan removed her ear phones, stretched her arms a bit, and allowed another yawn to escape her lips as she blinked her eyes. She looked down, noticing the blanket, then turned curious eyes up on him.

Price laughed quietly, "I had an orderly fetch one for you. You were sleeping like a baby when I got in."

A faint blush appeared on her face, causing her eyes to down cast. Mumbling, "Fell asleep watching the rain."

His gaze turned towards the window, noticing the gloomy skies. "Yes... it's quite a down pour." Concerned, he turned to her, "You do have a ride home, right?"

Teasing, "Is that your subtle way of asking me to leave?"

Retorting, "Is that your subtle way of saying that you want to leave?"

Joan laughed as she got up and began dragging her chair closer to his bed. "The weather sucks, what do you think?"

Price placed his book aside, intertwining his hands together as his eyes regarded Joan's every move. Watching her settling back down, "Have you been hiding out in my room the whole time?"

"Not the whole time. Doctor Wyatt had let me stay here while you were in recovery. I spent most of the day in the waiting room."

"Joan," He had tossed her a kind smile, "Thank you for being here. I really appreciate the company."

Giving him a sad smile, "I just wish your family could have been here for you... but, other than that, I'm glad that I could be here for you... and I mean, hey," giving a timid laugh, "I was able to get out of school."

Raising a brow at her, "Don't make that a habit, Miss Giradi. Despite the circumstances." He regarded her bag, "So, tell me that you at least got some studying done."

"Well, I'm afraid not..." She tossed him a helpless shrug, "A friend had asked if I could keep an eye on a little boy. His twin brother was admitted in the children's ward."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Price replied, sincerity evident.

Joan gave a small nod, "Me too. But this kid is just..." With awe, "Amazing. Very smart and he's had to deal with..." She looked up at Price, "His brother is deaf and this nine year old kid has been talking in signs even before he could ride a bike! It's incredible, actually. I mean, he even tried to teach me..."

Price regarded Joan silently, surprised by this news. More so wondering if maybe...

"Check this out;" Excited to show him what she's learn, Joan began slowly signing, "Hi! My name is Joan--" Her look was intense was she concentrated on spelling out each letter, "Gi-ra-di. What is your name?" She placed her hands down, "Neat, huh? I can even spell your name!"

Joan raised her right hand and just as she began to spell his name, Price had beaten her to it with uncanny ease.

"P-R-I-C-E." He spoke softly, surprising Joan. Her eyes widened, stunned, as he began speaking to her both verbally and with his hands, much like Kris. "It's nice to meet you, Joan."

Her mouth gaped, her eyes blinked, "You-- you know how to talk in sign?"

He nodded modestly, "Yes..." His voice trailed off, hesitant before adding, "I had to learn... it's a long story..."

Joan propped her elbows on his bed, regarding him. Price began shifting his gaze around as he played with his hands timidly. She didn't know why he was being nervous, but with the impending awkward silence close ahead, Joan decided to lighten the mood. A smile played on her lips as she said, "Y'know, I was going to ask Kris how to sign 'Shut-up', because I can spell Friedman's name alright and just figured I'd go the whole nine yards..."

Price tried to stifle a laugh, though his mouth twitched into a grin that couldn't be contained. He tried to give Joan a serious, somber look, but found that he couldn't stop smiling. "I'm not going to teach you profanity in any language, Miss Giradi."

"Okay, fine." Joan huffed, pouting in a mock fashion. "Guess I'll just have to spell it out, then. S-h-u-t-u-p." She spelled out the phrase with her hands, though upon the final letter, Price was giving her a wise look and seemed to be holding back a snicker. "What?"

"You... uh, you got your Q's and your P's mixed up, Joan." He informed her. "Unless there really is such an expression as 'Shut U Q'."

Sincerely confused, with her right hand, she held out her thumb and pointer finger, curling the rest of her hand while facing them downwards. "I though this was a P."

He shook his head, "The P's and the Q's are almost the same, except there's an additional finger involved with the letter P." Price held out his own hand, extending his pointer finger, allowing the middle finger and thumb to touch while the others curled inward. From there, he motioned his hand down as if pointing towards the floor. "P..." Then, he simply curled the middle finger in, allowing just the pointer and the thumb to remain. "Q."

Joan chagrined, "Wow... and here I was about to spell your name."

"Q- Rice?" He snickered, causing Joan to giggle. "That sounds like a lean cuisine... So, you get the difference? Try it."

"I didn't think I'd confuse the two!" She groaned, embarrassed.

He shook his head, "It's okay, Joan. This is technically your first time signing. No one is perfect..."

"'To err is human'?" She gave a slight shrug, though glancing casually upward.

"Exactly. So..." He held up his hand again, demonstrating, "P... Q. P... Q." Price placed his hand down, looking at her expectantly, "Your turn, Joan."

JoA~~JoA

There were two things that Adam Rove hadn't counted on today. One was the unexpected rain showing down on them. The second thing was having Joan absent from school. It's not that his whole existence revolved around Jane... at least that's what his head kept telling his emotions.

The spontaneous burst of afternoon showers had created a conflict for Adam and Iris's planned visitation. With the exception of taking the bus, they had no other mode of transportation. That was when Helen Giradi volunteered her service to her well-intentioned art students. Luke himself was merely following because he had no other ride home. Plus curiosity had gotten the better of the young scientist, wondering-- along with the rest of the student body-- as to Price's state and the cause for it. There was one other person accompanying them, and her motives for following were quite mysterious... especially as she masked it with her usual morose behavior.

"Damnit, Rove." Grace Polk growled at her childhood friend. Sending daggers his way, "I had better things to do this afternoon than play Scooby Do Mysterious with you..." Pointing at Iris, who was helping Adam carry the rolled up banner, "Daphne..." Then glancing at Luke, who was watching the doors for his mother to join them in the hospital lobby, "And Velma."

"Breathe, Grace." Adam sighed, briefly glancing heavenward.

Ignoring him, "So what do we do now, Scrappy? Wait until Shaggy parks the Mystery Van and then we can raid the nearest fridge?"

Iris rolled her eyes, tired of Grace's incessant raving. With a smirk on her face, "So does that make you Scooby?"

Grace snarled, "Wait a minute! You're not Daphne! Let me just rip off your face to reveal who you really. Are!" She took a step towards Iris, who had instinctively taken a step behind Adam. Luke jumped right in, grabbing Grace's arm and tugging her aside.

"Step back, Giradi!" Grace warned Luke, "This isn't your fight..."

"And this isn't Adam's either... remember?"

"I don't recall establishing a truce."

Not helping the situation, Iris remarked, "I'm surprised you even know what a truce is! Given your thirst for senseless acts of violence!"

"Iris!" Adam snapped, giving his girlfriend, for the first time ever, a reproaching glare. Softly, he added, "You're not helping."

Grace threw her hands up in exasperation. "Fine! You can let go of my arm, Giradi. I'm not going to kill her... or hurt her... or step on her tail..." She moved away from Luke, rubbing the part of her arm where his hand had grasped her.

"Really?" He looked her over, suspicious.

She nodded, though there was a twinkle in her eye as she continued glaring, "Yeah... it's pointless to try anyway. We're in a hospital... they'll have no choice but to revive her..."

Luke and Adam shared a tired look before rolling their eyes. "Grace," Adam began, walking towards his friend, "Can we talk?"

As Adam ushered Grace to the side, Luke walked over to Iris, giving her a kind smile. Iris returned the smile, though her gaze quickly followed Adam and Grace. Suspicious and doubtful.

"Look, Rove," Grace started with a frustrated sigh, "If it's about the infestation..."

"Quit it." Adam glared, his voice soft yet warning. "Grace... look, I'm glad that you're here. You and I have always hung out... but if you're just going to start picking fights with Iris--"

Grace's eyes narrowed, "As I stated before, I had better things to do. Who invited the other, Rove? And why don't you ask Pinky over there to be civil instead of giving me the ultimatum?"

"Because she's not the one always trying to provoke the other."

"I don't exactly see her extending the olive branch either, A." She growled, which further frustrated Adam.

"Why don't you like her?" Adam asked, wanting to solve this situation between the two girls before any blood was shed. "I know you, Grace. There's more to your anger."

Being coy, she smirked, "Anger is such a... soft word, Rove. There's contempt, disdain... scorn, fury..."

"Grace..." His voice dropped to a plea, which aggravated Grace because, as much as she'll never admit to it, she had a soft spot for Adam Rove.

Her eyes dropped away from his gaze, looking down at the floor before reluctantly admitting, "She's not... Iris isn't..." A sigh, "She's not Joan."

"What do you mean?" He looked at her softly, his voice encouraging.

"It's bad enough that I have to share you with Giradi, but... Joan is one of us. She's got her moments, but what it all comes down to is; Joan makes sense. The three of us makes sense... we fit." Grace began to shift uncomfortably, her eyes down cast and refusing to look up into his eyes. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, "Giradi with her over the top antics and way too teenaged personality, me with my own convictions and personal vendettas, and you with your soft even tempered innocence... I mean, we have our differences... but that's why we make sense..." Grace's voice suddenly rose defensively as she continued. "And that's why I don't like having an outsider coming in and screwing with this formula that we have going! That-- that It comes in and suddenly if she's not trying to drag you away, she's shifting powers and adding more weight into our group than needed! Either way, she's knocking the balance! She's like this-- this extra body part that we don't need and I just want it amputated as quickly as possible."

Adam regarded his friend with sadness and understanding. "Grace... I didn't know..."

She sniffed as her eyes were glistening. A scowl formed on her face upon realizing her vulnerability as she forced herself to create the 'tough girl' facade. "Yeah, well, no one else knows and I'd like to keep it that way..." Grace shook her head, "Just forget it, Rove. I'll-- crap, I'll be the better person and try to get along with Minnie-- I mean, Iris. For you..."

He gave her a smile, though he wanted to talk further about her apparent ill-feelings towards Iris. "Grace, you don't--"

"Just drop it." Grace snapped, her eyes now looking past Adam. "Mrs. Giradi's here." With that, she moved on over to join Luke's side. Adam himself watched Grace walk away with a heavy-hearted expression on his face. He knew he had to help his old friend out... but how? More importantly, Adam realized he didn't want to do this alone...

JoA~~JoA

"Are you sure?"

Price closed his eyes, allowing a small frustrated sigh. "Yes, Joan, I'm pretty sure. In fact, I'm about seventeen years of experienced signing sure that this means 'beautiful' and not 'face'." He demonstrated the movement again, his hand beginning in the and position (fingertips curved somewhat touching the thumb) and first placed next to his chin as he continues to opens and fluidly close his hand as it circles counterclockwise around his face.

Joan, watching and still unsure, "That means 'beautiful'?"

Signing and verbally speaking, "Yes."

"So what's the sign for 'face'?"

With the same fluid motion, the only exception being that Price was using his right index finger instead of his whole hand. "This means 'face'." Demonstrating once more, "Face... beautiful..." Slower, "Face... beautiful." He paused, raised brow, "Do you understand now?"

Joan laughed, "God, you must think I'm a complete moron... a nine year old could understand this a lot better than me... wait, there is a nine year old that understands sign language better than me!"

Price smiled softly at her, "Give it a try, Joan. You don't give yourself enough credit... which is odd especially coming from a young woman that was once convinced that her true calling in life was boat building."

She gave him a slight glare. "Okay... face..." Joan spoke while exhibiting the 'face' motion perfectly.

Noting the near flawless execution, "That was perfect, Miss Giradi. Now... try beautiful."

Sighing, yet uncertain, Joan wearily waved her hand over her face. Price slightly narrowed his eyes, observing her dismissive behavior. "Okay, I know that wasn't what you wanted, but I still don't understand how that can't not stand for 'face'!"

"Joan," He refrained from snapping, though his voice was tight. "Try not to think too much about the word's motion, but understanding the word itself. Try it again."

Sitting straight, Joan began holding up her right hand in a rigid position. This unexpectedly caused Price to reach and place his right hand over her's. Unaware that the movement slightly startled Joan, he gave a tired sigh and explained, "Your hand looks prepared to project claws... think fluid, think less tense... think beautiful..."

Upon the last word spoken, Price was suddenly aware of her silence and refusal to move. Seeing that his hand was now faintly twined with Joan's, his gazed moved from their hands to her eyes. He noticed that she was looking at him with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and even fear... which automatically caused him to drop not just his gaze, but his own hand.

"My God... I'm sorry, Joan... I didn't mean to just-- I'm sorry." He began, inching away from her and now refusing to look at her.

She blinked her eyes, still stunned by what had transpired. "No... no, that's was fine... that was okay, Mr. Price, I--" With a nervous laugh, "I mean... God, why are you sorry?" Joan knew that a ramble was about to unearth from her lips. "You were just trying to teach me. Don't apologize because you didn't do anything wrong, right? You were giving me a lesson... you're my teacher-- no, you're more than that. You're my vice principal, so don't apologize..."

Price was looking down at his own hands, intertwined and sitting on his lap. He spoke softly and as the words poured from his mouth, his gaze reluctantly met her's. "Because I'm your vice principal, I have to apologize."

"Oh..." Joan replied, startled and even more confused. An uncomfortable silence fell upon them before she realized that, "I think I should go."

He quietly nodded, though apparent guilt and pain shone in his eyes. As Joan started up, grabbing her bags and casting him a timid smile, Price took a reflective pause before calling her name. She turned around, giving him a questioning look.

"I..." Price looked down, still quite unsure what to say despite wanting to say everything in his head. He stammered a bit, an act that Joan slightly watched with amusement. It was not every day that she could render someone of high authority speechless... and since she can't very well do that with God yet, Mr. Price comes close.

Joan decided to put him out of his misery, "Mr. Price... it's okay. Honestly it's okay... but I think I should be going."

He cast her a helpless nod as she turned the knob to open the door and step out--

"Oh God..."

JoA~~JoA~~JoA