A/N: Hey.  First, thank you all for your reviews.  They're wonderful for my ego.  I hope I can continue to live up to such praise.  Second, I want to apologize for this chapter taking so long.  I've known for days what happens but this is the time when my mind starts to wander all over the story and so I haven't been very focused.  BTW, Admiral Lily, I can promise number four, after all.

Now, for the acknowledgements.  Brie, I should have thanked you for your offer of help in my late update.  Sorry.  I've never been good with the electric communication thing.  This story is a sort of personal project: I'm trying to see if I can plot and write a story begin to end without giving up on it, so I won't take you up it for this story.  But I am thinking of a Grace and Luke-based sequel and I could definitely use help on that one.  So, thanks a bunch.

Finally (yes, I know, really long author's notes), I promise to do better with the next chapter.  I'm just tired of piddling with this one.  Hope it's okay.

Danielle

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in connection with Joan of Arcadia.  Though, now that I think about, I think Luke has been shafted.  Not nearly as many people want to own him as Adam, and he's so adorable.  Oh, well.  On with the story.

            She smelled like crisp, ripe apples on an autumn breeze.  Adam wondered how Jane always managed to smell like fall.  Not that it mattered.  She was here, not ten feet away from him.  He could tell by her rigid posture that she was nervous.  Though he hated the thought of causing her heartache, Adam was glad to know he wasn't the only one feeling insecure.

            "Jane?"

            "Hmm?"  She didn't look at him but fiddled with a wire on the wall.

            "Why are you here?"

            Jane stilled.  Adam's stomach clinched.  He hadn't realized how important her answer was until he asked.  What if all she wanted was closure?  She could still be hurt and angry with him for being so selfish.  So thoughtless.  What if this was good-bye?

            "I missed you."

            Adam was certain he misheard her.  She shook her head.  Of course, he'd misheard.  He opened his mouth to ask for clarification when she lifted her lead.  She was in profile, a slight smile on her perfect lips.

            "I miss you."

            Stunned, Adam watched as Jane turned to face him.  Never had she been lovelier, a heartbroken angel with a brave smile.  "I have to go."

            He let her pass.  He wanted to stop her but her words played over in his mind.  For the life of him, he couldn't move.  She missed him.

            "Good night, Adam."  Good night, not good-bye.

            She left then, her footsteps echoing in the night and Adam's ears.

            The scent of apples on an autumn breeze lingered in the shed.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

             Joan hurried up the steps of Arcadia High School juggling her briefcase, a stack of files, her purse, and a travel mug.  Today was not going to be a good day.  She could tell by the sense of strangeness she felt passing through the school's double doors.  Even though she'd worked at Arcadia High for almost a year, it often struck her as bizarre.  After all, she had spent three years desperately looking forward to the day when she'd never have to come here again. 

            As if to emphasize her thoughts, Joan's foot twisted beneath her, throwing her off balance.  But, instead of ending up sprawled on the floor like she expected, she found herself wrapped in a pair of protective, familiar arms.  Adam smiled down at her as he steadied her on her feet.  Surely, she was hallucinating.  Just wishful thinking.  There was no other reason for his presence.

            The illusion took the files out of her arms.  She blinked; okay, maybe she wasn't imagining him.  "Adam?"

            "Yeah?"  He glanced at her, obviously confused by her reaction.

            "I—what are you doing here?"  They started down the hall toward her office.

            "I came to see your mom.  You know, about the arts festival.  It's this weekend."

            "Oh."  She didn't quite manage to keep the disappointment out of her voice.  "Right.  Yes.  Of course.  The festival."  Joan turned into her office to hide her embarrassed flush.  He wasn't here to see her. 

            Adam hovered in the doorway.   "Uh, Jane?  Why are we in the counselor's office?"

            Joan opened her mouth to answer, then closed it.  "I'm the counselor."

            His mouth forming a silent "oh," he came into the office and put her files on her desk.  Adam wandered over to the wall with her degrees—B.A in psychology, M.A. in school psychology.   He hadn't known, hadn't kept tabs on her.  It'd been too painful.  "How long?"

            "This is my first year here.  Last year, I worked at a school in California."

            He hadn't known that either.     "Why were you in California?"

            "I did my grad work there.  When I finished, I thought I'd settle there, but I missed home." 

            Adam thought of the mess his life in New York had become.  I miss home, too, he thought as he looked at her.  "Are you happy?"

            "That I came back?  Yes."

            "Overall, are you happy?"

            Joan blinked, surprised.  "I . . . yeah, I suppose.  I mean I have a good life.  What about you?"

            He shrugged.  "Haven't decided yet."

            "Adam," Joan started toward him, "is there something . . ." The first homeroom bell sounded, interrupting her.

            He started like he was coming out of a dream.  "I should go," he said as he headed for the door.

            "Adam . . . ."  She reached out toward him.  Something wasn't right with Adam and Joan didn't want to let him leave.

            He stopped in the doorway and looked back at her.  "Are you coming to the festival?"

            Joan sighed in resignation.  He'd changed the subject; he wasn't going to tell her now.  "With you and my mom in it?  Of course."

            "You were coming to see my work?"  Adam sounded surprised.

            "Of course.  Just because . . . things are awkward between us, doesn't mean . . . ."  Joan stopped.  She didn't know how to finish the sentence because she didn't know where they stood any more than Adam did.

            They stared at each other.  Both were acutely aware of the discomfort of Joan's uncompleted statement.  Neither knew what to do next.

            Adam broke the silence first.  "Well, I'll see you then, okay?"

            "Okay."

            Joan watched Adam leave.  Slowly, she sank into her chair.  Was it really this difficult to be in each other's presence or were they just making things harder than necessary?  She didn't know.  With a sigh, Joan began to shuffle through her files and organize her schedule.

            No, today was not going to be a good day.