A/N: Hey. I'm back. Here's a little fluff after the last two rather heavy chapters. Unfortunately, it's the only fluff in sight for quite some time as I predict things will go downhill fast and hard pretty soon. Don't say I didn't warn you. Hope you enjoy it. R&R. Alexandri

Frowning at his cell phone, Adam punched the call button once more, frustration evident in his every movement. When the line rang until the voice mail picked up yet again, he sighed and tried to figure out what this meant. Where was she? They'd barely talked all week and he'd been looking forward to their phone date. One whole hour of uninterrupted Jane time and she wasn't answering her phone. His last class was in forty-five minutes. If he didn't get a hold of Joan soon, there'd only be enough time for a quick "Hey, I love you." As far as he was concerned, he could send an email to say that.

After failing to get through again, Adam decided to call Joan's dorm room. Maybe Grace would be there and she'd know where Joan was. At the very least, he could leave a message for Joan to call him back.

Grace picked up on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, Grace."

"Hey."

"Is Jane there?"

"Good. How are you?"

"What?" Adam asked, frowning again.

"I said I'm good. How are you?"

"Cha, sorry, yo. I'm fine."

"Glad to hear it," Grace continued in the same dry tone she'd answered the phone with. "Is it asking too much to expect my lifelong friend to inquire after . . ."

A noise in the background cut Grace off, quickly followed by the sounds of a scuffle. Finally he heard, "Adam?"

"Jane?" Why was she in her dorm room?

"Adam!" Her excitement at the sound of his voice pleased him and he couldn't help grinning. "Where have you been?"

His grin vanished as his jaw dropped open in shock. Where had he been?

"I rushed all the way back here so I wouldn't miss your call and you forgot," she continued. "Honestly, how a boy with a photographic memory can be so forgetful is beyond me. But that doesn't matter now. How are you? How's New York?"

It took a moment for Adam to get his bearings. He took the time to search his photographic memory. He was sure he was supposed to call her cell, not her dorm. Mentally reviewing her last email, he concluded that he was right. Call me at 4. Prof. Weiner always keeps us late. Can't wait to hear your voice. Love ya, Jane. She must have meant for him to call her cell. Her class let out at 3:50.

"Adam, hello. Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he said slowly. "I've been calling for the last half-hour."

"I was here the whole time and the phone never rang. Okay, so I was seven minutes late and I was in the bathroom when Grace answered, but I've been here the rest of the time."

"I've been calling your cell. You told me to call at four, right after your last class. I assumed I was supposed to call your cell."

"Of course, you did," Joan said peevishly. "Because that was the sensible conclusion. Oh, Adam, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

"I turned it off for my classes—you know how anal teachers get about your phone going off—and I forgot to turn it back on. I could have talked to you all the way home." Joan sighed, rather dramatically in Adam's opinion. "I'm really sorry. I've been kind of scattered lately. Shut it, Grace."

Adam smiled. He assumed Grace made a disparaging remark. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. It's just getting used to everything, juggling classes and laundry and still trying to have an actual life. But enough about me. I want to hear about you. How's New York?"

"Awesome. It's so big, Jane. You can get just about anything you want here."

"Which implies it doesn't have everything," Joan stated. "So what doesn't New York have that you want?

"You."

"Aw. I know how you feel."

They fell into a comfortable conversation about classes—Adam loved most of his, Joan was mostly indifferent about hers—and the new people they'd met. He told her about his new roommate. She'd scoffed when he'd said the boy was weird. He didn't blame her. Adam had never thought he'd see the day when he called anyone weird. But when he told her about the chanting, the all-night role-playing (with some organization, not with Adam), and the preference for tights, she'd laughed out loud and clucked, "Poor Adam."

Soon it was time for him to go to class.

Joan groaned. "I'm sorry about the phone mix-up."

"It's all right, Jane."

"Yeah, but that wasn't nearly enough time."

He couldn't help agreeing.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asked.

"Nothing. Why?"

"I was thinking I could call you."

"Two phone calls in one day. Someone must really like me."

"Yeah, me," she giggled. "So what do say? Do you mind spending a Friday night talking to your girlfriend?"

"You're joking, right? Of course, I don't mind."

"Yay. I'll call you around eight?"

"Sure. And Jane?"

"Hmm?"

"Call my cell."

"Sure thing."

"How come every time you pick for movie night, we end up looking at a black and white film?" Joan asked as she, Adam, and Grace lounged in her parents' living room. The older Girardis were at a party and Kevin was out on a date with some girl Joan had never met.

"It's Christmas in Connecticut."

"What's your point?"

"It's Christmas in Connecticut," Adam repeated as if that should thoroughly explain his position. "It can't be in color. That'd be like looking at It's a Wonderful Life in color. If it were in color, it'd lose its charm."

"Whatever, Rove." Grace plucked a candy cane off of the nearby Christmas tree and unwrapped it. "We're looking at A Christmas Story next, Girardi, so hold tight. It'll be over soon."

"You aren't supposed to be looking at Christmas movies anyway," Adam told Grace pointedly. "It does go against the Jewish faith and all, doesn't it?"

"We're not looking at The Greatest Story Ever Told or King of Kings. In fact, not one of these movies mentions Jesus at all. So, I think it'll be okay as long as the rabbi doesn't find out. He'd have a coronary."

"No," Adam agreed, "we wouldn't want that. Though, if he hasn't had one by now after all the stuff you've pulled, I think it's safe to say he'd survive even if he knew."

Joan buried her face in Adam's neck and laughed.

"Shut it, Girardi."

Joan just laughed harder. Adam had gotten in earlier, but hadn't told Joan. When he'd shown up tonight, movie in hand and a huge grin on his face, she'd squealed with happiness and thrown herself in his arms. Grace had mocked them mercilessly. Joan didn't care. Seeing him again and holding him in her arms was the best Christmas present she could remember ever getting.

Now she lay curled into his side, breathing in the fresh, clean scent of his neck. She snuggled closer and closed her eyes, perfectly content for the first time since August.

Adam gave her a little squeeze and brushed his lips across her brow. "Wake up, Jane," he whispered.

"No," she said, burying her face deeper in his neck.

"Jane."

He sounded so reasonable when he said her name like that. She hated when he used that tone. Sighing, she stretched, surprised to find the two of them lying on her couch, and rubbed a hand over her face. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure, but it's definitely morning."

Joan glanced sharply at the living room window. Sure enough, sunlight filtered in through the curtains. She couldn't believe she'd slept the whole night through. At least, she'd spent the time in Adam's arms. Dropping her head on his chest, she settled back into her previous position.

"Jane?"

"Just a little longer," she murmured. She didn't see what difference it made now. Judging from the blanket covering them, her parents already knew they were on the couch. Funny how the first time she'd ever slept with her boyfriend would be accidental and on her parents' sofa.

"Come on, Jane," he insisted, patting her back. "It's time to get up."

"Why are you pushing this?"

"Because I have no desire to get shot by your dad for molesting his precious baby girl."

Clapping her hands over her mouth to hold back her laughter (after all, Grace was curled up in a nearby chair), Joan sat up and stared down at her boyfriend, her eyes twinkling. "First of all, he wouldn't shoot you. And secondly, 'precious baby girl?'"

He just shrugged.

"Besides, are you planning to molest me?"

Adam gave her a look that was both amused and suggestive. Joan's laughter faded and heat suffused her face. Her skin tingled all over and she was suddenly very aware of his hand resting on her hip. Breathing a little faster than a few moments ago, she dropped her voice to a bare whisper. "Are you?"

"Someday," he said, lacing their fingers together. "Eventually. With your consent, of course."

"So this is a distant-future thing?" She so couldn't believe they were having this conversation. On Christmas Eve morning. In her family's living room.

Pushing himself into a more upright position, Adam tugged her in back into his arms. "I think it should be. When we finally take our relationship to that level, I don't want to have to say goodbye to you or watch you leave a couple of days later."

"So after we graduate then, at the earliest."

"I think that's best, don't you?"

She had to admit that that sounded like the best course of action. However, before she got to say so, Grace said, "My ideal way of waking up is not listening to you two plan your sex life."

"You two are planning your sex life?"

Joan and Adam sprang apart. Will stood behind them, glaring down at Adam with a particularly murderous gleam in his eye before looking at his daughter. Adam shot Joan an "I-told-you-so" look before returning his apprehensive gaze to her father.

Will looked at his daughter the way he had the last time they'd attempted the sex talk. Joan didn't know what she'd do if he asked her about pony rides or carnivals right now.

"It's not what you think, Daddy," she quickly reassured. "We've decided that se . . . intimacy will be a future thing. A very distant future thing."

"Unchallenged," Adam stammered as Will turned his glare on him again. "I'm going to go home."

"I think that's a wise decision," Will said.

"Daddy," Joan hissed as she watched Adam hurriedly gather his belongings and leave. Grace had already disappeared. Pushing her hair off her face, she frowned at Will as she stuffed her feet into her shoes. "Was that necessary?"

"Are you thinking of having sex with that boy?"

"We just went over this, Daddy. Distant future. Distant, as in not near. And since when is he that boy?" Joan grabbed a coat and thrust her arms into it.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside to apologize to my boyfriend for my paranoid, insanely overprotective father's behavior. What do you think I'm going to do, jump him on the front porch?" Her mouth fell open at the expression on her father's face. It was like he didn't consider that an absurd possibility. "Daddy! First of all, it's cold out. And second of all, ew! On the front porch where all the neighbors can see? What kind of girl do you think I am?" she asked as she jerked the front door open.

"What's all the commotion about?" Helen asked sleepily as she came down the stairs.

"Ask your husband," Joan said as she slammed out of the house. She had been prepared to sprint after Adam so she was understandably surprised to find him and Grace locked in one of their silent conversations. Knowing better than to interrupt, she leaned against the house and waited for one of them to break.

Surprisingly enough, it was Grace who spoke first. "All right, I'm sorry. But, in my defense, I'd just woken up and hadn't even opened my eyes yet."

"Grace!" he exclaimed. Joan realized that Adam had conveying an entire statement when he said someone's name down to an art form.

"Why were you talking about it anyway, dude?" Grace asked. "You were in her family's house. Her dad's a cop."

"It's not like he's some trigger-happy bandit, you guys," Joan said.

"You're his 'precious baby girl,' Girardi. If he suspected Rove here was 'molesting' you, he'd be loading his Glock right now."

"Ay." Joan covered her face with her hands.

Adam stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It just came up. I was trying to wake her up and we ended up talking about it."

"Yeah, well, I've apologized," Grace said. "Don't expect this to become a habit. I'll see you guys later." With that, Grace trotted down the stairs, got in her car and drove off.

Joan peeked at him through her fingers. "My dad thought I was going to jump you on the porch." Adam's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. She began to giggle. She couldn't help it. He looked so shocked.

Then he opened his arms to her and she gladly stepped into them. "He'll get over it, you know."

"He's going to stop wanting to come after me with his Glock?" he half-teased.

"Yeah. Well," she amended, "he'll probably only think about it in the back of his mind."

He chuckled and rubbed his chin over her temple. His jaw was scruffy with stubble since he hadn't yet shaved. It was an odd sensation, she wasn't used to a stubbly Adam, but she decided she liked the feeling just the same. "I'm glad I'm home."

"So am I," she said, holding him tighter.

"I'll see you tonight?"

She nodded. "I'm sure he'll have calmed down by then."

"Okay." He leaned back and took her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Joan relaxed in his arms. How she missed Adam's kisses. He pulled back and rested his head against hers briefly before letting her go and jogging down the walk to his truck.

She watched him slide behind the wheel and then wave at her. She waved back and, as he drove off, she tried not to think of the last time they'd played out a similar scene. "You have until January," she muttered to herself. "Enjoy it while you can."

"This sucks." Joan frowned down at her hamburger like it was the source of every offensive thing in her life.

"I thought you liked Lou's hamburgers?"

"What?" She looked up to find Adam staring at her with a concerned smile. "Oh, right. Yes, I do like Lou's hamburgers. The burger's fine. That's not what sucks."

"So are you going to tell me?" he asked when she'd fallen back into resentful contemplation of the innocent sandwich.

Chin propped in hand, she asked dolefully, "Why couldn't our Spring Breaks overlap?"

Adam covered her hand with his then held it. She curled her fingers around his and squeezed. "I know how you feel. But at least we're getting to spend this time together." They were sitting in Lou's Diner in downtown Arcadia. They'd agreed to meet here instead of trying to hook up in Florida. He had decided to drop in and visit with his dad before going back to New York. She'd visit with her family before starting her break in Daytona with Grace.

"Yeah, I know," she said in the same glum tone as before. "It feels like a tease is all. I mean, we get to see each other two days here, a week there, and then it's goodbye all over again. I feel like all I ever say to you anymore is goodbye."

He beckoned her to his side of the booth with a tilt of his head. With a small smile, she slipped along the cushion and settled beside him. Adam wrapped an arm around her and stared in her eyes. "You're right. It does suck. We're going to get this. There are only a couple more months before summer break. I'm coming home and you are, too, right?"
"Yeah."

"We'll have all summer to spend time together."

Laying her head on his shoulder, Joan sighed. "I guess. I think I just miss you."

"I miss you, too."

They fell silent. Adam held her close, trying to let his confidence seep into her. When she began to sneak fries off his plate, he knew she was feeling better.

"I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"These little freak-outs I keep having," she said without meeting his eyes.

"I have them, too," he admitted.

Joan looked up at him, half surprised, half unbelieving. "When?"

"When I'm at school. Some days are okay, but others," he chuckled and shook his head. "Other days it's pure hell being away from you."

"Does it make me wicked that that makes me feel a little better?"

"No," he declared. "Let's not talk about this anymore."

"Okay. So what should I expect in Florida?"

"A lot of people who should know better doing things they'll be ashamed of when they're thirty."

"Sounds like fun."

Adam laughed and kissed her temple. "It is. Just promise me a few things, okay?"

"Okay."

"Number one – under no circumstances will you get drunk."

"Okay."

"Number two – no matter what you do, don't enter any wet t-shirt contests. It can't end well."

Shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, Joan squeaked. "No contests. Got it."

"And finally, don't flash anyone." She burst out laughing at this, but Adam knew better. He'd seen seemingly nice, quiet girls shake their bared chests at dozens of strangers as if it were normal behavior. "I mean it, Jane. I don't want to see you on some overplayed copy of Girls Gone Wild 59."

Tears were running down her face, she was laughing so hard. When she finally managed to control herself, she said, "I promise to be a perfect young lady while I'm in Florida."

"Thank you."

"However, all bets are off when I get back to Maryland."