A/N: I just want to thank everybody for continuing to review this story. They make my day. Depudor, I must admit that I am indeed a Pretender. I know nothing about the art world. By the way, I love Weird Science. But that's neither here nor there. Enjoy the chapter. With any luck, chapter thirteen will be up later today. Alexandri

Adam didn't even bother to open his eyes as he fumbled for the phone. "Hello?" he said when he finally brought it to his ear.

"We're homeless."

"What?" His eyes flew open in concern at the frantic tone of his caller's voice. "Jane?"

"We're homeless, Adam," Joan repeated, the panic-stricken note rising in her voice.

"Are you all right?" he asked, tossing back the covers and hunting for his shoes. "What happened? Where's Grace?"

"She's in bed. What does she have to do with it?"

Adam stopped shoving his foot in his sneaker. "Didn't you just say you were homeless?"

"You and me," she exclaimed, clearly annoyed, "not me and Grace."

Groaning, he kicked off his shoe and flopped back on the bed. "It's three in the morning, Jane. You sound hysterical. I thought there'd been a fire or something."

"Sorry," came her slightly embarrassed reply.

"It's okay, Jane." He didn't know why he was surprised by her late-night call, but he was nevertheless. With the wedding just under a week away, he figured he'd be receiving more of them. "Now what's this about us being homeless?"

"Where are we going to live after we're married, Adam? In all my planning, I hadn't thought of that."

"Oh." He didn't try to say anything else; he knew better. She was in panicked rant mode. She wouldn't hear him anyway.

"I love my parents, but we can't live with them. That's more closeness than I want, thank you. I guess we could live with your dad, but then there's the same closeness problem. We could live here, I suppose, but there's something icky about the thought of Grace being in the next room. She's like a sister or something. She feels too much like family. Is that why you never spent the night at our apartment in college?"

"Probably."

"Oh. We have to do something about this, Adam. I don't want to spend our honeymoon worrying about where we're going to live. Do you?"

"No," he answered, trying not to laugh.

"So what are we going to do?" she demanded. "How are we going to handle this?"

"Have lunch with me later."

"What? Adam, this is serious. We're . . ."

"Homeless. I know. Can you get away?"

Her heavy, agitated sigh echoed over the phone. "Yes."

"Good. I'll pick you up around eleven-thirty. We'll talk about it then."

"But, Adam . . ."

"Get some sleep, Jane. Everything'll be fine. I promise, okay?"

She didn't answer immediately. Finally, she said, "Okay."

"Okay. Good night. I love you."

"I love you, too. Good night."

Now that Joan realized their dire housing situation, she could hardly think of anything else. With all the other details weighing on her, this new development wasn't helping her state of mind. By the time Adam knocked on her office door promptly at eleven-thirty, she was a tightly wound bundle of nerves.

"I thought you were exaggerating when you said the students were excited about our wedding," he said as he came in. "I don't think I've been congratulated that much since the engagement party Rodney and Kat threw for us."

"That's nice, sweetie," she said absently as she got her keys and purse. "Let's go." She saw Adam thrust his hands in his pockets and bite back a smile as he escorted her to his car. "You wouldn't be laughing at me, would you? Because that wouldn't be very nice."

His shoulders shook. "Sorry," he managed eventually. "You're just so cute when you're on a mission."

"Oh, please," she said as she got in the car, but some of her tension eased.

Getting in, Adam took Joan's hand. "Ready?"

"Very."

Joan tried to devise a feasible game plan while Adam drove. Finding a place to live wasn't something you could do in an afternoon. It took time and they didn't have much to spare for this. Maybe they should postpone the honeymoon. Surely they could wait until the end of May. It was just two months. She was positive Adam could rearrange the plans. Frowning, Joan sought an alternative to the postponement but came up empty. As much as she hated to admit it, it was the best plan. On the bright side, if they waited until May, she and Adam could take as much time away as they wanted.

"Jane. We're here."

Adam got out of the car as Joan glanced out the window. He'd brought her to an apartment complex. "What are we doing here?" she asked as he helped her out of the car. "Are we here to see an apartment?"

"Mm-hmm."

She followed him, puzzled. Shouldn't they have stopped at the leasing office first? It had been some time since she'd last done this, but she was sure that a property manager should be with them. Her confusion grew as Adam flipped through his keys before selecting one and fitting it in the lock of a ground floor apartment. He opened the door and stepped back to let her past. "After you."

Joan stepped into the apartment. The kitchen was to her immediate right. Straight ahead were the living areas. There was hardly any furniture, just a couple of plastic chairs and a gorgeous oak dining table. Boxes were stacked throughout the room. But it was the walls that grabbed her attention. New apartment walls were white. These were a warm butter-yellow with soft cream trim. Maybe this used to be a model apartment. She turned back to Adam.

He lounged against the wall by the door holding out a key ring with two keys dangling from it. Heart pounding, she glanced around the apartment, then back at him. She raised her eyebrows in question. Was he serious? Pushing off the wall Adam smiled as he approached and placed the keys in her hand.

"Is this ours?"

"Yup."

"But how? When?" she asked, her bewildered gaze sweeping over the room yet again. "When did you do all this?"

"Last month," he answered. "I realized a while ago that we needed a place of our own. I've been looking since December, but we chose this apartment last month. The couple who used to live here moved out a few weeks ago and the painters just finished last week."

"We?"

"Your mom, Grace, Rebecca, and I." He grinned at her astonished expression. "I thought I could use some feminine input."

"You were all in on this and nobody said a word?"

Adam shrugged. "I swore them to secrecy. Do you like it?"

"Are you kidding?" Joan exclaimed with a laugh. "This is amazing. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Between the holidays and the plans, you were so stressed out that I decided to do it myself. Spare you the headache of adding something else to your list. Would you like a tour?"

"Yes, please."

"This is obviously the kitchen," he began. "Do you want to look in the cabinets?"

"Why would I want to look in the cabinets?"

"Your mom and Rebecca examined the cabinets in every apartment we looked at. Even Grace looked. I thought it was a woman thing."

Laughing, she said, "I'll trust their judgment."

"The laundry is through there." Adam pointed at the door at the back of the kitchen. "I don't know why they put it there, but it's a whole room, not a little closet, so I didn't question it."

"Wise man."

"The bathroom's across the hall," he said as he led her through the apartment and pointed out the various rooms. "It's connected to our bedroom. I made sure we had plenty of closet space. Living room and dining room and there's a second bedroom with its own bathroom. I thought it could be a guest room/home office. What do you think?"

"It's perfect," she said as she came to a stop in the middle of the living room.

"The rest of the furniture should be here tomorrow. Rodney said he'd help me arrange it and I'm sure Kat will tell us where to put everything." Adam came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "So, you see, you have nothing to worry about. We're not homeless."

"No, we're not." Joan turned in Adam's arms and hugged him. "Thank you so much."

"It was my pleasure."

"You didn't have to do this," she murmured as she kissed his neck.

He chuckled. "Jane," he said, pulling back so he could see her face, "you're giving me a beautiful wedding. I'm giving you a home. That's the way it works, isn't it?"

She brushed her knuckles over his cheek. "You can't say things like that, Adam."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm trying not to cry and, when you say things like that, it's hard not to."

With an understanding smile, Adam kissed the tip of Joan's nose. "I don't think it matters what I say."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you cry at the drop of a hat, Jane."

Joan gasped. "This is so mean."

Grinning, he shook his head at her. "No, it's not. It's true. I think you get it from your mom."

Clamping her hand over her mouth, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and laughed.

When she regained her composure, Adam said, "I wish I didn't have to take you back to work."

"Me, too."

"You could always call in," he suggested hopefully. "Tell Price something came up and you can't get back today."

Joan shook her head. "No. Gavin's been very understanding, which is kind of strange. Besides, I'm taking all of Friday off for the wedding. It wouldn't be right."

"You're right," he sighed begrudgingly. "I don't like it, but you're right."

Smiling, she kissed his chin. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Oh, you're definitely making it up to me," Adam announced cockily, making her laugh again. "But, right now, I need to feed you."

"I do remember an early-morning offer of lunch."

Adam opened his mouth to say something, but a knock at the door interrupted him. He grinned. "I'll be right back."

Seconds later, he came back with a pizza, a two-liter of Coke, and an order of breadsticks. "Lunch has arrived," he said as set everything on the table. "I got pepperoni, green peppers and sausage with extra garlic the way you like it."

"You really are the perfect man, aren't you?"

Laughing, he said, "Hardly," as he went to the kitchen. He took two plastic-covered bowls filled with salad out of the refrigerator and passed them to her over the snack bar. He waved her off and turned back to the fridge. A minute later, he brought out two cups of ice, plastic forks and salad dressing. "Ready to eat?

Nodding, she pulled out one of the chairs she'd brought to the table and prepared to sit.

"Jane."

She looked up at him and he shook his head. He turned her toward him, put his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the table. "Adam!"

"Just go with it." He sat on the opposite side of the pizza box, legs folded Indian-style in front of him.

Joan followed suit. "Should I even ask?" she said as he filled their cups.

He simply handed her a cup and raised his. "To us."

"To us." She took a sip and set her cup down. "Thank you for this, for all of it."

"Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, puzzled.

Adam shrugged. "Just for being you, I guess." Blushing, he nodded toward the pizza. "You get first choice."

She was halfway through her first slice before she looked up at him and gasped. "You watched it."

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice," he muttered as he put down his salad fork.

"Well?" she demanded when he didn't continue. "What did you think?"

"It was funny," he admitted with a huff.

"Ha! You liked it."

"No one likes a gloater, Jane."

"Um, excuse me, but I distinctly remember a certain someone gloating for days after I admitted to liking The Third Man."

"That was different," he said.

"How?"

"The Third Man is a classic."

"So is Sixteen Candles." Adam snorted. "Oh, come on. It's right up there with Ferris Bueller's Day Off and The Breakfast Club."

"I'm going to end up watching every movie ever made in the '80s, aren't I?" he asked, his shoulders slumped by the prospect.

Joan nodded. "Most of them, yes, but only because you love me. And I do watch those awful artsy films you like."

"They're not awful."

"Whatever."

"They're not," he insisted.

"Okay. If you say so." She smiled. "You know, you forgot one thing."

He frowned at her. "What?"

"You have to kiss me over the pizza."

Laughing, he reached over to cup her cheek, surprised when she shook her head. "What now?"

"You have to put your hands behind you and push up. I keep my hands in my lap and lean forward because I'm more flexible than you since I'm a girl." Tears came to Joan's eyes as she tried not to laugh.

"Sure, Jane," he said, rolling his eyes and doing as she directed.

Joan leaned forward, stopping just short of kissing him. "Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"Friday can't come fast enough."

"I know," he whispered. "Now kiss me."

She happily obliged.