A/N: Hello, all. I'm back with a new chapter. I warn you now that there is much angst. Sorry this took so long. Hopefully, chapter four won't take a week to write. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Because I'm supposed put this in the story somewhere, nothing affiliated with Joan of Arcadia belongs to me. I'm just borrowing. All new characters, however, as well as the plot are mine. Okay, that's it. I'm not doing this again.

In the four years he'd lived in New York City, Adam had only been to the Empire State Building once. Now as he watched Joan, he wondered why that was. She stood with her face raised to the sun, her eyes closed. A cool, gentle breeze fingered her hair. She looked serene, yet almost jubilant. He had to admit it was peaceful here. He felt removed from the worries and obligations and deadlines that made up his life.

"This is beautiful," Joan whispered almost reverently.

Of course, it could just be Joan's presence that made everything else seem faraway. "What exactly?"

Eyes still closed, she threw out her arms as if she intended to embrace the entire city. "All of this."

With a teasing smirk, he asked, "You do realize your eyes have been closed the entire time we've been up here, don't you?"

Her eyes fluttered open as she faced him. "Yes," she answered, laughter bubbling to her lips. "But this," she gave a vague, encompassing wave, "this moment is perfect. Well, almost."

"What's missing?"

"You aren't kissing me."

Adam pulled Joan into his arms. "I can see where that would diminish the moment."

She came closer still. "So what are you going to do about it?"

He leaned in, pleased to see her lips part in anticipation, and caught her sigh as they kissed. Initially soft and gentle, Joan was soon clinging to his shoulders while Adam held her as close as possible, one hand buried in her hair. When they finally parted, both were panting for air. "How was that?" he managed.

"Wow." Joan wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "I can't believe this is really happening."

"What?"

"This," she whispered. "Me being here with you in New York."

Adam knew what she meant. From the moment she'd accepted his spontaneous invitation to the minute he saw her come through the gate at La Guardia that morning, he had been certain something would come up and she wouldn't come. The possibility that he wouldn't see her for three whole months (he really couldn't afford to take any more time away from his work) had distressed him. Given the current state of their relationship, he knew his misgivings were unfounded. But he also knew that things didn't always go as planned, especially not with Joan. Standing on the deck of the Empire State Building, arguably one of the most historically romantic buildings in the city, with her in his arms was pretty amazing.

"Adam?" she murmured against his neck.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you invited me."

He gave her a little squeeze. "I'm glad you came."

Joan pulled back just enough to see his face. "Promise me we'll come back here before I have to leave."

"I promise," he said and kissed her temple. "We'll come at night when the city's all lit up."

"Perfect." She took a deep breath before pulling out of his arms and holding her hand out to him.

Taking her hand and leading her to the observation deck's elevator, he asked, "Where do you want to go now?"

She scrunched her nose as she considered her options. "I want to see what I missed."

"And that would be?"

"NYU." She narrowed her eyes as if reassessing her statement, then nodded. "Yes. I want to see NYU."

"Okay." They stepped onto the elevator as Adam tried to sift through his unexpectedly chaotic emotions. Throughout his time at school, he'd wished she were there to share the experience with him. That single, inescapable wish had haunted him since coming to New York. Its futility had fueled his anger his first year there. His subsequent disappointment had spiraled into emotional withdrawal, at least romantically.

The idea of showing her the campus scared him. What if the anger and resentment he'd felt resurfaced? What if he vented those feelings? Did he even still feel that way or were these thoughts just memories rearing their ugly heads at the least opportune time?

Adam mechanically guided Joan to the subway and headed for campus. Subconsciously, he realized that she was strangely quiet. For that, he was both grateful and saddened: grateful because it allowed him to focus on controlling his volatile emotions and saddened because this was her first day in the city and a problem had already popped up. Stop trying to make things difficult, he reprimanded. You're in love, you're engaged and you're supposed to be happy. Dredging up the past won't help anything. Keeping his advice in mind, Adam put his arm around her shoulders.

Much to his relief, the campus tour didn't bring up any undue issues for him. He pointed out buildings, told amusing stories about how he'd met a friend here or had pseudo-deep artistic discussions there. He showed her his former classrooms (the ones that weren't occupied anyway) and the sites of his first and last student exhibitions. She didn't say much, just laughed or asked questions at the proper times. Adam wondered at her somber air. Just as he decided to comment on it, Joan looked up at him. "What were you like here?"

Surprised, he discovered he hadn't a clue how to answer her question. "I don't know."

"Who would?"

Most of his friends would, Rodney especially. But Rodney and Kat were in Savannah visiting her family and the rest of his friends were probably working. It was the middle of the week and, as far as he knew, no one was going through a creative crisis. The only other person he could think of was his mentor. "Dr. Riley."

"Your old teacher, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Can I meet him?"

Adam looked at her with searching eyes. She gave away nothing. He didn't think this was a good idea and briefly considered saying no. But he had promised they'd do whatever she wanted to do today, so he checked his watch. Dr. Riley had his office hours now. "Sure," he said, hoping he'd masked the depth of his reluctance. "Let's go."

Dr. Marcus Riley looked up, startled by the unexpected knock on his office door. It was too early in the summer term for student visits. Hoping it wasn't the department chair (he couldn't stomach the arrogant bastard), he said, "Come in."

Relief and pleasure washed through the professor when he saw his former student peeking into his office. "Are you busy?"

"Adam!" he exclaimed. "It's good to see you. Come in. Come in. Close the door behind you." He had just seen Adam a little over a month ago, so he was more than a little surprised to see the girl he brought in with him. The pretty brunette clutched Adam's hand while quickly taking in Riley's office. "And who is this lovely lady?"

Her eyes snapped to him, full of approval, respect, and amusement. Riley liked her instantly.

"This is my fiancée, Joan Girardi."

Both men turned to her, concerned when she winced. "What is it?" Adam asked.

"I still hate it when you call me that. We're going to have to work something out for introductions."

Adam snorted. "I call her Jane," he explained, "unless I'm mad at her."

"Then it's . . ." she shuddered, "Joan."

She said her name with such disdain that Riley roared with laughter while he waved his visitors into the two armchairs in front of his desk. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Joan," he said when his laughter subsided.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too."

"So, this is unexpected. Congratulations are in order. How did you two meet?"

"We went to high school together," Adam said.

Riley noticed the way his hand tightened around hers. Her thumb stroked his and her lips curved upward. "High school sweethearts?"

The couple gazed at each other. "Yeah," Joan replied.

"Something like that."

The look in Adam's eyes, and mirrored in Joan's, spoke of something much deeper than high school sweethearts. Deeper than soul mates. There was joy, love, confusion, and serenity in his eyes all at once; a sort of satisfied surrender that Riley had never witnessed in his young protégé before. No one and nothing had ever made Adam look like that since Riley had met him. Joan rose immeasurably in Riley's estimation. Congratulations were definitely in order. Clearing his throat to gain their attention, Riley asked, "When's the big day?"

The pair shared a secret, almost stunned look. "We haven't talked about it yet," Adam admitted.

"But we'll definitely send you an invitation when we do," Joan added.

"Wonderful. I'll look forward to it," Riley said. "So, what brings you two here?"

"Well," Joan began when Adam didn't answer, "Adam was showing me the campus and I realized I wanted to get a better sense of who he was when he was here. So, he suggested I talk to you."

Riley's eyebrows shot toward his hairline. "Well, now. That's quite a request." He paced before his desk a bit, trying to think of the best way to describe his favorite ex-student. "Moody," he declared finally. "He was awful his first year."

Joan giggled at her fianc's slack-jawed expression. Riley shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. You were moody and sullen and pissed at the world in general. But talented." He turned to a suddenly serious Joan with a confidential air. "He was the most talented, hardest working student I'd had in ages. His work that first year wasn't always polished, but it was aggressive, passionate, emotional. Raw.

"His second year, it was like he'd excised whatever demons he had. His work became much more cerebral. Thoughtful, sophisticated. The emotion was still there; it just took a backseat to whatever was on Adam's mind as opposed to in his heart. He's continued in that vein ever since."

Joan and Adam sat back in their seats, each obviously lost in thought. Riley wondered if he'd been too honest when Joan glanced at Adam with teary eyes. Before he could think of something to lighten the mood, she sat up and said, "Where's the lady's room?"

"Down the hall to the left," he answered, a bit dejected by the couple's downcast expressions. "You can't miss it."

"Thank you." She gently pulled her hand out of Adam's and excused herself. "I'll be right back."

The men watched her go, then faced each other. "I said too much, didn't I?"

Adam shook his head. "I think maybe you said just enough."

Riley frowned at Adam. He wasn't sure if that meant he'd said enough for Joan or for Adam.

Madison pulled back from Dr. Riley's office door, relieved to hear the faint murmur of voices inside. She was late and the last thing she wanted was to confront an irritated boss. True, her schedule was pretty relaxed. He wouldn't be too upset with her since she'd just come from a callback, but she did have a lot of work to do for him and not a lot of time to do it in.

She put away her purse and jacket and sat at her desk, ready to attack a mountain of correspondences that needed to go out tomorrow. As she worked, a self-satisfied grin broke out on her face. The callback had gone well. With any luck, she'd get a call in a couple days offering her the role of Nora in an Off-Broadway revival of Ibsen's A Doll's House. Playing the part would be a dream come true. She'd aspired to the part since she'd first discovered it in high school. Work now, she reminded herself. Fantasize later.

"You look happy," a voice said wistfully, interrupting Madison's attempt to focus on her task.

An unknown brunette walked down the hall toward her. She cast a fleeting look at Professor Riley's door before returning her attention to Madison. "Dr. Riley's with someone right now. Would you like to leave a message for him or wait?" Madison asked pleasantly.

The woman looked at the door again and absently twisted the ring on her left ring finger, clearly uncertain. Madison took in the woman's stylish vintage sundress. She didn't look like any of the art students Madison was used to seeing. Maybe she was the professor's daughter. The woman abruptly turned back to her and shook her head. "Do you mind if I sit out here for a while?"

"Be my guest."

She sat, still twisting her ring. Nervous energy rolled off of her in waves. Madison tried to work in spite of the mounting tension, but found her own shoulders tightening up with anxiety. In an act of self-preservation, Madison set aside the envelope she'd just stuffed and determined to either help the woman calm down or get her out of the office. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" the woman asked.

"Whatever's bothering you." She stifled a laugh at the woman's startled look. "It's pretty obvious you're upset about something. Maybe talking about it will make it easier to deal with."

The woman thought about it for a moment before waving dismissively. "It's just that I recently found out something about my fiancé, that's all."

"Something bad?" Madison asked sympathetically.

"No, just sad." She waved again. "I'd rather not talk about it. My name's Joan, by the way."

"Madison." Since Joan made no move to shake hands, Madison decided not to either.

They sat quietly—Joan alternately glancing at the door and watching Madison stuff envelopes. When the silence became too much for her, Madison looked up to find Joan staring back at her. "Did you say something earlier?"

Joan nodded gratefully. "I said that you looked happy."

"I w—am." Madison blushed as she realized she almost said "was." That was plain mean, like she was blaming Joan for making her uncomfortable when Joan herself had much heavier things on her mind. Once she noticed Joan looking at her expectantly, she began to tell her about her audition and her hopes for getting the part.

Reaching over, Joan patted Madison's arm. "I hope you get the part," she said before frowning. "Is it bad luck to wish you 'good luck' or is that only before performances?"

Madison laughed. "I don't know. But thanks anyway." She liked this woman, whoever she was, in spite of herself.

"You're welcome."

"Jane?"

Madison's heart stopped at the sound of the familiar voice. Adam Rove came out of Professor Riley's office, eyes trained on the woman sitting in front of her desk. Frowning in confusion, she watched Joan stand and approach him, before taking his hand.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "Are you all right?"

Joan leaned in and gave him a light kiss. "I'm fine. I just thought you two might like to talk alone for a while."

Madison averted her eyes. She felt trapped. Even though it had been almost a year since she and Adam had dated, it still hurt to see him. She'd thought they would make a good couple. Instead, she realized in horror, he was engaged to Joan. Was this the woman he'd been unable to rebound from? She ducked her head, hoping to escape his notice.

Joan continued, "You didn't need to worry. Madison's been keeping me company."

Wanting to sink through the floor, she swallowed her groan and repressed a cringe as she looked up at her ex-boyfriend. "Hello, Adam." She was thankful her voice didn't tremble when she said it. His "oh my God, I can't believe this is happening" look didn't help though.

"Hi, Madison." He averted his eyes, too, and blushed. She wondered if he was still embarrassed to run into her. She also wondered what kind of conversation he and Joan (why had he called her Jane?) were going to have when they left. Madison was certain that Joan had both noticed and understood the discomfort between her and Adam.

"Well, um . . . I have to . . ." Madison grimaced and stood. For an aspiring actress, she seemed to suffer from an extreme lack of composure in her personal life. "Excuse me." She fled the reception area, not caring that she hadn't made a clean, dignified exit. Blindly entering the restroom, Madison went into the first empty stall she found and sagged against the partition. One day the torch she carried for Adam would go out, she knew that. Her thoughts turned back to that gentle, mutual kiss she'd witnessed. One day couldn't come soon enough.

Poor Adam, Joan thought as his shoulders slumped and he looked after Madison with sad eyes. Between the run-in with Madison, Dr. Riley's unexpected comments and whatever emotional onslaught he'd endured on their way to campus, she knew he was not having a good day. Slipping her arms around his waist, she gave him a quick hug. "I'm going to say good-bye to Dr. Riley, okay?"

He simply nodded.

"I hope I didn't distress you," Riley declared as he shook her hand between both of his. "I should have thought before I spoke."

"No," she assured him. "I appreciate your honesty."

"So everything is all right between you two?"

She patted his hand to ease his worry. "It will be. Thank you again. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"The pleasure was all mine, dear."

There was still no sign of Madison when she joined Adam. Silently, she slid her arm through his and let him take her to the elevator. They strolled about campus, Adam deep in his thoughts. Joan let him. She remembered his bouts of quiet after he'd broken up with Iris. At the time, she had been dreadfully insecure, not wanting him to think about his ex. She'd been afraid that if he did, he'd realized that, for all her issues, Iris was much more normal than Joan was. Now, she knew that this was his way of working through things. When he was ready, he'd let her in.

They had just entered Washington Square Park when Adam said, "Are you hungry?" He gestured toward a hot dog vendor.

"No."

"Are you sure? It's been a while since you've eaten."

"Adam, it's time." One look into his eyes told her that he understood. "We've put it off long enough, don't you think?"

He nodded. "Let's sit."

She followed him to a nearby bench and sat beside him. Now that they were going to have the "talk," neither of them seemed to know where to begin. The same thing happened the last time they'd tried to do this, so they'd let it go. Joan suspected the delayed conversation would loom over them until they got it over with.

"I knew," Adam began in a small voice, "that I was messed up that first year. I just never realized how bad I had been."

She took his hand in hers and silently encouraged him to go on.

"Everything Riley said is true, especially about me being pissed. At the time, I convinced myself that the universe was conspiring against me. Why else would everyone I love be taken away from me?" He ran his free hand through his hair and stared at his lap. Joan's heart thumped painfully in her chest as she listened because she knew that he was reliving it as he spoke.

"Somewhere in the middle of my first semester I realized that I was exaggerating. I still had my dad and Grace. You may not know this but I kept in touch with your mom. It just wasn't enough. Without you, I felt alone. I was furious with you because I blamed you for how I felt. Not matter how hard I tried, I couldn't understand why you refused to take a chance on us, take that leap of faith.

"Unlike the first time I was mad at you, I immersed myself in my art. It wasn't pretty; I was in such an ugly place. I'm surprised Rodney could tolerate me. Or anyone else for that matter, I was so awful."

Joan swiped at the tears on her cheek and smirked at him. "I always told you you were a pain in the ass when you were cranky."

Adam chuckled and squeezed her hand in thanks, then sniffed. "This was beyond cranky. I wasn't just a pain in the ass. I was an ass. I'm surprised Rodney and I are friends at all."

"What changed?"

"Kat moved in. Allison, our first roommate, was a party girl. She, Rodney and I pretty much stayed out of each other's way. When she graduated at the end of my first semester, we needed a new roommate and found Kat. She'd been living with us for two weeks before she told me that she'd . . . let's just say she threatened to injury me very creatively if I didn't straighten up. That led to a huge argument which turned into me pouring my heart out to her which led to a major revelation for me."

"What was that?"

"That I wasn't really mad at you. I was mad at myself." He looked at her and wiped her cheeks with his handkerchief. "The thing is I knew why you didn't come with me. It was in your eyes when I asked you. And I understood. But I didn't want to admit to myself that I'd screwed things up with you. That the way we were was my fault. It all sounds very dramatic and overblown but there it is."

It was all Joan could do to not break down and sob. Hearing what he'd gone through and comparing it to how she'd felt broke her heart. It all seemed so pointless even though she knew that they'd needed to go through it to get to where they were. She raised her gaze to his. He was staring off into the distance and she knew he was embarrassed. Tucking her feet under her, she took a breath. It was her turn for confession. "I thought you'd stopped loving me."

"What?" He looked at her as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

"At the airport when you left, you didn't call me anything. If you'd called me Jane, I would've known I was forgiven. If you'd said Joan, I'd have hoped that there was the possibility of forgiveness. But you didn't call me anything. You just said good-bye like I was some stranger who'd given you a lift.

"Some time after you left, I think it was around Thanksgiving, I asked Grace if you ever asked about me. She said you didn't. That's when I knew we were over. There was no mending 'us.' I don't think anything hurt as much as knowing you hated me."

Adam lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I never hated you. Ever."

"I know that now, but then . . ." she trailed off. There was one more thing she had to confess. Summoning all of her strength, she said, "I thought about coming here."

"To New York?"

"To NYU. I applied to make my advisor happy. I never thought they'd accept me."

"Why?" he whispered, surprised.

Joan shrugged. "I don't know. But they did accept me. I thought about attending, but . . ."

"You didn't because of me."

"I thought you'd look at me the way you did at the airport. I couldn't . . . I didn't think I could handle that."

Adam collapsed back on the bench and sighed. After a long moment, he said, "We're idiots."

A startled laugh escaped before Joan could stop it. "I think you may be right," she said as she laid her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "But that's behind us now."

"Thank God."

"So, tell me about Madison," she said, snuggling deeper into his arms.

Adam shrugged. She could feel the reluctance ripple through his body. "I wasn't very good to her,' he said simply.

"What did you do?"

"I chose the wrong girl." Joan frowned up at him, confused. "I convinced myself that I was over you."

"Still not getting it."

"Madison wanted the one thing I couldn't give: my heart. Of all the girls I've dated, I think she's the only one who really wanted me and I hurt her by not reciprocating."

Joan was proud of herself for not demanding he tell her how many girls there had been. She really didn't want to know. Instead, she tortured herself with another stupid question. "Were they all as beautiful as she is?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't tell me you didn't notice that Madison should be on a catwalk somewhere." He stared blankly at her. "The girl should be a supermodel."

"She's nowhere near as beautiful as you are."

"Sure," she deadpanned.

"I mean it."

She looked into his sincere eyes and realized that he did. He honestly thought that she was more beautiful than golden-haired, ocean-eyed, all-American Madison. "You are amazing, Adam Rove."

"No," he countered with a shake of his head. "I'm just in love."

"Me, too." Joan put her head back down and watched the children play in front of them. She felt like an enormous shroud had been taken off of their relationship. Everything else, including their future residence, would fall into place. They could do this. They were ready now. Suddenly, her head popped up and she turned to her emotional exhausted fiancé. "Did you say something about hot dogs earlier? I'm starving."