Stuck
Written by Miko-chan
Summary: My only advice...NEVER, ever rush off in a crowd with your umbrella.

Author's notes: This would be composed of five one-shot stories about various couples. It must have three main contents: a) The umbrella b) The darn rain sneeze and lastly, c) The romance...Make sure you have a blanket there. This fic is dedicated to those who continue to support any of these pairings.

The world outside was drenched, surrounded with a raging downpour of water. She was not touched by the darkness that settled it, for she was illuminated brightly with the flooding florescent light in the bus. As its wheels turned consistently, the view of the hazy buildings looming over the horizon moved gradually. It was making her head reel, as the slow movement was making her grip harder upon the small bible upon her lap.

The calming clattering of rain reverberated so soothingly in her ears. It calmed the deep trepidation in her heart as she sought to forget how the strange apprehension deep down inside her. As the drops of water began to trace themselves along the dim surroundings in the pane, she glanced herself briefly at the reflection of herself against the glass-streaked window. There was the burgundy eyes, which were filled with anticipation in some exhilarated notion. The silvery tresses were now reduced to a layered past shoulder-length cut. Each severed locks cascaded underneath the black bonnet in her head, mournfully shaping the contour of her face. It was still as magnificent as before, even with the loss of its length, with its dull metallic glint.

But it did not matter, as moist gathered in the unassuming reflection. She wiped it with her palm, prickled by the bitter cold. When she had cleared the clouded glass, it revealed the almost covered darkness of the city. Her features never mattered her, although this new appearance felt different.

She did not knew why, but the fact that they never met for years made the slight churning anticipation inside her make her fidget even more.

The shuttle bus halted suddenly, jerking her body an inch from the momentum. Her eyes trailed to the source of the opening hiss of the door. As the door widely gave way, a low muttering of passengers filled inside. She gradually shifted her position from the soft cushion in order to stand up. With careful movement, she silently descended towards the metal steps. With her small baggage on her one hand and the white, frail umbrella on the other, the young woman left the bus.

In the midst of the bustle of London streets in every afternoon, it would be no wonder to find such crowd even it is in the middle of the storm. The wind was blowing so fierce that the escaped silver tendrils hanging on every side of her chin was fluttering wildly. It was even somehow forcing her thin, little umbrella endangered to be blown away with one forceful blow. It was hard as she tried to take even a small glance at the piece of paper that was made like a bookmark on the thick black, hardbound book that she never failed to carry.

As the flaring lights of the gas-filled lanterns grew in the foggy-filled streets, the number of the parasols increased. It made her search rather hard, for the breezes were cruel and bitter and it drew coldness in her insides. If there will be a time that she could already sense that she was already getting lost, it would be right now.

The young woman gently gave a pliant smile, as her face crinkled with recollection at how old this sketch was. It was already past five years since she received this, after he described to her all the details of London in his best. He was describing her every nook and detail of his premises in his everyday life in college. At that time, she was merely waiting for her cream-colored robes to be delivered in order to go into the monastery .

With a sigh she stepped over the bridge overlooking the city, glancing over and over the map if there was something in the map that she recognized. The arch was one of the most beautiful structures she have ever seen now, being a bridge over the turbulent waters beneath them. The river was dark, yet churning against the rage of the weather. But even the waters doused a few splashes for a few turns, she still stopped in the middle of the bridge with a few of some people who decided to linger for a while. Her limbs were fairly going tired from moving, since the whipping of the breeze cannot outlast her. She leaned a little against the railings, her body slightly exhausted and languidly enjoying the scenery of London being in its moist weather. There were too many souls that roamed around, with the sounds of their foot falls resounding through her senses.

But then, a curious glance made her turn around for a while.

And saw in a great distance, beyond the direction a young man with a faint flick of light jaded hair was seen poking out the covering collar of his dark green frockcoat. There are few individuals who would posses such damp hues in their tresses...

Without any hesitation, she broke into a run. Her mind did not thought of the aggressive winds that made her swift ascent towards the other direction more difficult. A fervent hope that she would reach him, for it was impossible to get through the thickness of the crowd. It was beyond her skill to--

BUMP

She collided into someone, her mahogany hand-carried baggage suddenly unfastening the loose clasp. Its contents spilled upon the melancholic clay-tiled street, mixed with mud and dirt. Her grasp slipped from holding the ivory-colored handle of her umbrella. The stream of air began to increase in a rapid flow, and her umbrella, light as it was, followed the currents of breeze along the air. From what she can see in her aching position, it went past the boundaries of the bridge railings.

"Watch where you are going, lady!" came a gruff stranger's voice. He grumpily went on his way, with a notion on his mind about the 'clumsiness' of this incident.

"I'm sorry..."She said in a hush whisper. Her shaking hands gathered the fallen things with utmost speed she can muster. The black bonnet, along with her black wardrobe, began to soak underneath the gloom of the horizons. After gingerly picking all up of her things and clasped the silver fastening with a tight tug, her feet almost flew quickly. Yet, all her efforts were in vain. She had lost sight of him.

And as she take one good look around, she noticed that she was lost too.

The young woman sighed exasperatedly and inclined against the coolness of the gray lamp post. It was really unlucky for her to be seemingly drenched with the outpours of the rain. Quite an afternoon, lost and weary because of her carelessness.

Inside the trail of her mind, it was contemplating if she should rather go back, or just ask directions.

With a helpless shake of her head, she thought that the latter option was more probable.

She now turned towards a probable direction to her path earlier, which led to the Scotland Yard of this district. The aging building that was found to be glowing with a soft light as she presumed that the office still continues even from the rage of the storm. She settled her luggage on the tiles and assumed all her courage to face a probably bushy policeman with a scrutinizing glare for her to ask some instructions.

Deciding that she was ready, she was already trying to reach for her bag when she saw against the light that there was someone who was hovering over her shadow.

With an indistinct prayer to the heavens, she wished that it was not some rogue or...

"Excuse me," A pause. "I believe that this is yours?"

Her astounded stare turned to the young man in front of her, recognizing the sallow-colored parasol that he extended to shelter her right now. After which, she met with a pair of startled sea green orbs.

"Jeanne?"

He was wearing a half-unbuttoned, olive-shaded polo with his pale magenta band was untied and seemingly hurriedly placed on his collar. It well-suited with his dark half-drenched trousers and the ruffled green tresses, as if he was in a hurry to reach towards his place. She quickly noticed his increased height as her own umbrella was seem to elevate higher . The way his voice mentioned her name was low and a little abashed, yet deep and pleasant in the same way. Her mind could not even recognize the same young boy that constantly visited her in a friendly way in her earlier years.

It showed that time flies so fast.

And, sometimes, it slows down in certain moments.

"Ho-How did you--?" She stammered, as her eyes indicated the umbrella in his hands.

He warmly laughed, the first soothing sound that she heard since her flight. "I saw the umbrella drifting earlier. So I arrived here to my office, took off my wet coat and went to find the owner" He swiftly glanced at the center of the fair-colored inside of the object and inclined it her side a bit more.

Remind yourself, she thought wearily, that he did not inherit his dowsing abilities for nothing.

"Can I accompany you?" He obviously noticed the distress that she underwent from the soot that slightly smudged at the hem of her skirt, her roused breathing and the fatigue that crossed the lines of her features. She had changed a lot, from the black ensemble and the past-shoulder layered haircut that was noticed beneath her onyx biretta.

"I think you were rushing somewhere to..." She wanted to have a little talk, not to stall him in whatever he was supposed to do.

He waved off any protest that she began to make. His hand reached towards the load that she carried earlier in the ground and took it with ease. "Where were you going to?"

"I'm sorry I bothered you." She murmured and gave the piece of paper that contained an address.

"No, it's alright." As they walked, he began to lighten up the mood. He examined the piece of paper she still remains on her hands and gave a small chortle. It was the map that he had given her in the past, and it was well-kept from the less folds that was seen on the paper. "This five-year old map cannot help you, I'm afraid." Then he exuded an assuring beam, "But I guess the place is still there, derived from the address you gave me. Its a very old home, I guess."

"That's wonderful." She gave a sigh of relief, which she withheld for a long time.

"How were you inside the convent?"

"Huh?" She blinked. "Ah, I'm fine." It was somehow let her reminisced the times when he had the time, went to her in a certain place in her school to talk about anything, from lessons or mundane chores, over cups of hot drinks. " I think the sisters are going fond of me, and Marco was getting a little bit worried that I was maltreated. " She nearly wished that she can roll her eyes from her overly obsessive guardian.

"It really seems that you are quite enjoying yourself." He chortled with amusement. They settled into an comfortable relapse, listening to from the rustles of clothes, the flaps of umbrellas or the mindless chatters that filled the humid atmosphere. But there was an answer that she needs to know, the one inquiry that she needed to ask since she arrived at London. So with an authoritative voice that everyone who served her knew, she asked with a quiet voice.

"Why did you stopped visiting me?" .

The lady shivered at the sudden draft of wind from this stretching silence.

"I heard that next month that you'll be joining the congregation"

The words were released as if he heaved out a burden out of his back.

"You knew that?" She gave a astounded look.

"Yes." Even though that he did not visit her now in her place, the dowser made it a point to ask some of the news about his companion's well-doing in the convent.

He stopped going to see her at the time when she was already training to be a nun. It was the sight of her on the pew, alighted by the magnificent glass-stained colors of the church, made him breathless and witless in a flash. A small voice inside his head had triggered the alarm that saying that no matter how he tried to forget it, the fact will never change.

She will be eventually bound to the chambers of the church.

It was excruciating, to turn away and shun himself from her. The fact that there would be a strong, thick built wall around them, never could be torn apart. It was his agony for all his life that she might have never knew what he cherished underneath his chest strings. And living the rest of his days thinking on what could have been, and if that wistful dream would only break what's between them.

He could have admonished her to forsake her vows, and leave the massive barriers of her supposed world. However, he always revered and respected her decision. He did not had the heart to admonish her, even saying the faintest objections beneath his mind. For he started with fulfilling all of Jeanne's wishes, and he would not rather stop because of he was not rather important.

No. A small, nagging voice told him. You're afraid.

He snickered disdainfully. What could telling your sufferings would change a thing?

Why would don't you try?

"I'm sure that you would be perfect, Sister."

They continued on their walk, giving the impression that the rain had turned into frost in its coolness.

"How...How about you?" She decided to change the topic with a forced smile. Both of them looked on ahead the gas-lit streets, afraid of meeting in each others gazes.

"Me?" Then he condensed into a sigh. He tightly gripped upon the handle of her umbrella, struggling not to be carried away again by the valiant gust of the wind. "I'm working right now. You could have known earlier, but I guess that the job can always call you on anytime time of the day. I have to ask your pardon for that. "

"No, I understand." She nodded, comprehending the situation that he was in. The detective said that he was at his obligations, but as she can read his movements, there was something concealed in those tired gazes and the shrug of her shoulders.

Their feet kept on moving along the rattle of the fierce winds. The nostalgic air that brought the coldness was starting to falter as he savored this single moment. It was the feel of her near against him as the last remnants of her warmth continues to keep him in sanity and out of his mind at the same time. Both do not knew, that in intervals, crimson eyes discerned the male in front of her, as well as own jaded eyes observed her as stealthy a man could steal a gaze behind him.

Their foot falls was becoming placid, as their narrow turns and directions turned to a pleasant neighborhood. He perched the baggage at the floor and take a swift glance at the area.

"Oh, this might be the address." He said with an observing gaze at the place and a shrug towards the place, another to cut the silence. He saw the bronze-plated number that was attached to the iron gates. The house was not huge, but it was enough for someone to be comfortable enough to live in. From the unlighted lights inside, he could be sure that it was unoccupied. "You are here to visit someone, I presume?"

"I'll live here. My fellow nun told me I can have the house, and she recently replenished the whole supplies inside." She took out from her pocket two clinking silver keys and grabbed the luggage from the floor. " Do you want to come in? I think that there are still some tea leaves left in the counter. "

blink

"I...I think I will pass..." He shook himself from his reverie. "What do you mean?" If she would live here, instead of her convent in France then what about the rules in her--

"I already left the convent" she replied quietly.

There was an odd tranquility that had frozen his chest like piercing icicles.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He really did not sound happy, right? Or else that would sound so idiotic.

"You did not ask." He did not imagined the twinkle of teasing in her scarlet eyes as she amiably responded with a melting smile.

Yes, he was really stupid.

He was surprised by this. He knew that this young woman, had always dreamed for the chance of being hidden beneath the holy white veil of the heavens. But what had changed her mind?

"I love being there..." She continued, feeling the soft mixed gaze that the green-haired lad is giving her. "But it would always be a regret of mine..." She then turned her eyes to the face that was touched by astonishment. "..if I do not completely lived this life."

It might be only a trace of a memory, but she knew that centuries ago she have given up the life in repayment of her love the Almighty One. She loved God with all her mind, but it would be selfish if it would be given alone for Him. The world was not solely of solitude and closing yourself from others. In the passing of ages, offering ones life is not as same anymore in giving the right due to him. Nobody would condemn her for this decision and change her mind...

Her choice.

"Besides," Her scarlet eyes sparkled in a sort of merriment, as she opened the arduous door with a click of the key and a persisting shove. "I'm here to do some things for the church, after all."

"You're right." He was becoming aware of his breath becoming easy, even though someone could have suffered a constricting cough at this temperature.

She reached at him, with her touch seemingly a soothing balm to his simmering inner recesses, as it slowly diminish. "You look awful." her voice was inaudible, as her head lowered to conceal the faint coloring of her cheeks. With nimble fingers, she arranged the pale-colored ribbon on his neck and secured the buttons that were suspending from his shirt. "There."

"I guess...I must return this to you." He gave her the umbrella as soon as he found out that he was breathing.

He tried to forget the sweet aroma of jasmine that floated around her like a lingering cloud. And also the warmth of her smile. And yes, the touch that seems to flow back the thawing touch of her hands, renewing the lost zeal that he thought to be extinguished. It all returned back to him full force, as her nearness seemed to be impossibly true.

She opened the doors with creaking voice but before her feet crossed their boundaries...

"Lyserg?"

Hesitation.

"Yes?"

Expecting.

"Thank you."

It was more than gratefulness.

"You're welcome."

And as their eyes met, it was wielded something in its softness.
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I've read somewhere that Jeanne is actually the reincarnation of the Joan of Arc. (in French, Jeanne d' Arc) So you'll probably guess whom she wants to spend her present lifetime with. And Scotland Yard is what they called to a police station...I'm a Holmes fan, so sue me. Tsaka nga pala, lumalamig na ng kaunti. Yey!

Dedicated to the one who waited so long for this fic to be posted, Ate Apple.(Advance b-day!)