Joan's eyes fluttered open and she rolled on to her back, looking unfocusedly at the ceiling. "That's it, time to do some research. I need to know who this is." She thought and got up. Joan quickly grabbed a notebook and pencil and drove over to the library.

She stood in the doorway unsure of where to start and decided to go to the front desk and see if the librarian could help. After explaining what she wanted, Joan was sitting in front of a microfiche machine going through spools from the 1860s. She was scanning the obituaries of April 1863 when something caught her eye. Joan flicked back to it and began to read.

Kristopher Spencer born August 19, 1843, died today from wounds gotten in a small skirmish outside of Lon Sophia, Virginia.

Joan stopped breathing as those words jumped out at her, grabbing a hold of her mind.

There was a knock at the door and a letter, the envelope wrinkled and stained with dirt, was brought to me. I opened in and out fell a lock of hair tied with a bit of string, a ring and a short letter. All it said was:

Miss Braddock,

I'm sorry to tell you this but Kris Spencer is dead. He died of two gun shot wounds to the chest and stomach. I took care of him as best I could and he told me of you and that the two of you were to be married, regardless of what your father said. Before he died, he asked me to send you these. Please take some solace in the fact that he died safe and warm and wanted nothing but to see you again and the fact that you were always with him until her died. Your name was the last thing he said.

Sincerely,

Rosaline Stanford.

I put down the letter; tears threatening to fail as I clutched the ring and hair in my hands. They finally did fall as the cold metal slowly warmed in my hand.

Joan sat at the machine shaking, her nails digging into her palms. She closed her eyes to keep back the tears as more slid though her mind. Their first kiss, when they first met and the start of wedding plans.

"I need you" she whispered, opening her eyes. "You better be there."

Joan left the library and began to head towards home. About half way home, near the cemetery she saw him.

"Hi."

Joan stopped dead in her tracks in front of him. "Is it true?" she whispered. "Was Kris real?"

God slowly nodded. "Yes. You were too."

Joan swallowed and asked "Are you him? Were we together then?"

God remained silent for a moment "I can't answer that Joan." He replied softly.

Joan sniffled and grabbed his hands, looking up into his eyes. "Can't or won't.?" she demanded. "Answer me! Please."

God stared at her, were those tears in his eyes? "Both." He growled; his jaw and hands tightening.

Joan stared back at him, startled; she had never seen him angry before.

"I'm not angry with you; I just can't and won't answer."

God was starting to walk away when Joan grabbed him by the elbow. "I've never really asked you for anything, just please answer me."

He said nothing, just looked at her, noting the determined and serious look she had on and knew that she wouldn't stop until she had an answer. He sighed in defeat and took her hand and led her into the cemetery and sat down on one of the benches.

"You and Kris were real. You really were together."

"Why do you look like him? Were you him?"

"Yes."

Joan was speechless for a moment.

"I loved you so much Joan when I was human. I wanted to stay with you then and I've waited since then for you."

"You died." Joan whispered. "I missed you so much."

"I know and I'm sorry I had to leave, I wanted to stay."

Joan smiled at that. "Why didn't you?"

"I couldn't. I was needed in the world."

"What about now? Do you think that we could try again?"