THREE HUNDRED REVIEWS OMG

It's kind of sad, though. My mom got the three-hundredth review, and it's so pathetic. Go read it. xDDD

You guys make me so, so, so happy. I'm making sure all my chapters are longer and less spaced-out in update time to thank you! :D

My birthday is on May 6th, so this week is my gift to all you. I'll be sixteen, and you'll be spending more time reading fanfiction~

CHAPTER STATS

Word Count (excluding A/N): 1756

Date Updated: 4-30-11

Current Review Count: 300

A cold wind blew through the trees, knocking some snow off their branches. Claire padded her way through the foot-deep snow on the ground of her farm, trying to shield her face from the stinging barrages of the winter air. She had made sure the barn was shut tightly, remembering their last winter on the Mineral Town farm when one of the lambs got out and nearly died of pneumonia, the poor thing.

She looked up ahead of her and noticed the flag up on the mailbox. Her mind processed this sight before she sprinted to the red box, nearly tripping a few times. She ripped open the door and pulled out one clean envelope. Her eyes welled up slightly as she saw that there was no return address. Quickly, she put it under her scarf and hurried inside.

"Gray!" She called, pushing her stringy blonde hair out of her face, "Gray, there's a letter!"

"What?" Gray asked, walking out of the kitchen. He eyed his wife strangely as she ran up to him in a frenzy. "What are you talking about?"

"I just got a letter out of the mailbox," Claire said, catching her breath, "and there's no return address."

"So—" He stopped, and, realizing what Claire was getting at, set his hands on her shoulders. "Claire, open it."

"I am, I am!" She said, struggling to tear at the envelope with her numbed fingers. Gray waited beside her, impatiently. She frowned up at him. "Hey, I'm working on it!"

"Let me—" He started, reaching for the letter. Claire jerked it away from him.

"I can do it fine," she scowled, finally opening the envelope. She pulled out its contents triumphantly and began to read it. Gray read over her shoulder. An eerie silence filled the room.

"Gray," Claire said quietly, turning away from the letter. He frowned at her worried expression.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I'm worried, too."

"But we can't just leave her there to freeze, can we?" Claire asked, trying to blink back tears. She could see her baby huddled up in a corner, all alone, shivering in sub-zero temperatures. "It even sounds like that best friend of hers isn't being very nice to her!"

"There's nothing we can do, Claire," Gray sighed, rubbing his forehead. "She didn't give us a return address. And besides, she would hate us if we came to get her."

"Maybe she would, but at least she'd be alive!" Claire croaked, unable to hold back the tears any longer. Gray put his arm around her, scanning over the letter again.

"It is almost spring," he said, trying to cheer her up. "Chelsea sure seems optimistic about it. She'll be fine—she has other friends, too, right?"

"Yeah," Claire sniffed, wiping at her eyes. She took a deep breath, calming herself down and regaining control. "And she sure seems to like that Vaughn guy, hm?"

"What do you mean?" Gray asked, his arm dropping.

"She wrote almost half her letter about him," Claire giggled, pointing at the paper. "Did you even read it all?"

"I did," Gray said, his eyebrows knotting together. "But she didn't…"

"It's so obvious, Gray," Claire smiled, shaking her head at her husband. "She's totally smitten with him."

"No," Gray said, looking from Claire to the letter and back again. "How do you get that out of what she wrote?"

"She's always been like this." Claire smiled softly, "But the poor thing probably doesn't even realize how she feels yet."

"But—If—What do we do?" Gray sputtered, frowning. Claire raised an eyebrow at him.

"Nothing," she said, leaning back against the dining table. "I thought you wanted to leave her be for a while."

"You're telling me that this Vaughn guy doesn't bother you?" Gray asked, his eyebrows shooting up. Claire shook her head.

"Not really. Does he bother you?"

"We don't know a thing about him!" Gray exclaimed, disbelieving his wife's sudden stupidity. "What if he's—he's—"

"A good guy, like Chelsea thinks he is?" Claire supplied, smirking. Gray rolled his eyes, frustrated. Claire's smirk faded into a more sympathetic smile as she stepped closer to him. "Chelsea's always been a good judge of character. Sure, she's a bit too optimistic, but she's smart. We can trust her."

Gray was silent for several moments before he let out a sigh. "Fine."

"Alright," Claire smiled, kissing his cheek. He blushed lightly, making her giggle. He pulled down slightly on his cap.

"What do we do now?" He asked, looking back down at the letter in his daughter's handwriting. Claire leaned her head on his shoulder, looking at the paper, too.

"I guess we just wait."

Ooo

"Happy New Year's Eve, Chelsea!"

Chelsea whipped her head in the direction of the voice. Denny waved at her from behind, his feet sinking in the cool sand as he walked towards her. She smiled and waved back, deciding not to get up from her spot sitting on the beach. Denny sat down next to her.

"You ready for the festival tonight?" He asked. Chelsea smiled and nodded, thinking of all the hot, free noodles she'd get to eat.

"I can't wait!" She sighed, enjoying the chilled sensation of her feet buried in the cold sand. Denny laughed.

"It's going to be great," He nodded, then tilted his head at her. "But what're you doing out here? You don't have a fishing pole, and…"

"Oh, I'm just sitting," Chelsea blushed lightly. She didn't really know why she was there, to be perfectly honest. She didn't have anything else to do, and she would normally be at Mirabelle's shop, but something made her want to come to the beach instead. She had been there for hours, just watching the horizon. It was incredibly calming.

"Just sitting, eh?" Denny asked, a new twinkle in his eye. "You aren't waiting for anyone?"

"Waiting?" Chelsea repeated, confused. "Waiting for who?"

"Oh, no one," Denny said, smirking and looking up at the sky. "Well, I promised Lanna I'd meet her at the Diner before the festival. I'll see you there!"

"See you," Chelsea called after him as he walked away his fishing pole swinging behind him from his shoulder.

Chelsea turned back to face the ocean, pulling her knees in to her chest. Hugging them closer, she rested her chin on them and sighed as the tide pulled in and out, the shimmering sound of the waves lulling her into a sleeplike state. The sun wasn't halfway through the sky, but the clouds made it seem darker than it would be on a normal morning. Her eyelids pulled down, but she fought the urge to close them. She didn't want to sleep through the festival and miss the noodles.

After one long, slow blink, she thought she could see a dark shape on the ocean. She opened her eyes a little wider. What was that? A ship? She yawned, the sound of waves crashing nearby flooding her ears. What day was it? It was the thirtieth… A week after the twenty-fourth, which was a Wednesday…

Her eyelids tugged down, and her head felt heavy. She yawned again, realizing it shouldn't be this difficult to figure out the day of the week. And then she felt like she was flying and eating noodles, which was a clue that she had fallen asleep.

Ooo

Vaughn stepped off the boat, taking a deep breath of the salty island air. He wasn't exactly dreading coming to the island this week—which was actually a first for him—but he wasn't really looking forward to it, either. It was surprising, then, when he felt almost happy to be on the dock of Sunny Island. He wasn't really expecting that.

He started down the dock, watching his feet on the worn wood and holding his small bag in his hand. He'd arrived a bit late due to a little mix-up in Flowerbud Village. The boat captain there had wanted the day off due to it being a festival. Vaughn couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes as he remembered the fiasco. Vaughn didn't take vacations, and there was no way in hell that he was going to be spending New Year's and New Year's Eve in Flowerbud Village, where everyone treated him like he was a plague-infested alien.

And that was what he'd told the captain, who then promptly stopped complaining and boarded the ship.

So now Vaughn was spending the two holidays on Sunny Island, which was something he wasn't expecting would make him feel this relieved.

The dock ran out and Vaughn's boots hit the sand of the beach. He saw something out of the corner of his eye and looked up, did a double-take, and rolled his eyes before walking across the sand a few yards.

He stopped and looked down at the dozing farmer at his feet. She seemed to have fallen asleep sitting up. Her head was bowed and her breathing was deep and even. Vaughn wondered if he should wake her up, and, if he was going to, how.

But just as he thought that, she surprised him by snapping her head up and rubbing her eyes, letting out a huge, tired yawn. Vaughn tried not to think about how adorable she looked when she did that. She brought her gaze over to his boots, then slowly up to his face. They stared at each other for a few long, silent moments. He could feel a small shiver crawl from his neck down his back. What was he supposed to say?

Just then, her face broke into a grin, allowing him to let out the breath he'd been holding. He didn't even know he was holding his breath until then.

"Hey, Vaughn," Chelsea said, pulling herself up. "Today's Wednesday, huh?"

"Yeah," he nodded, adjusting his hat. "Any particular reason y'were sleepin' here?"

Chelsea's forehead scrunched up lightly as she thought. "Nope, not really."

"Alright then," Vaughn nodded once and started walking towards town. Chelsea caught up and they walked up the path together. As he listened to Chelsea talk about the island's happening that last week, he realized that he really didn't mind having her as a friend.

"What did you do this week?" Chelsea asked, her blue eyes focused on him, waiting for his answer—waiting like she cared.

"Not much," Vaughn said, his lips pulling up slightly at the corners. He actually kind of liked talking to Chelsea. Maybe having friends wasn't so bad after all.

It's so long! I went to Barnes&Noble and wrote for almost three hours and this lovely chapter (which I like way better than the last one) and others. BD

Enjoy! I hope you liked it, and I'd love to hear from you. Unfortunately, tomorrow is my dedicated homework day, so no writing then. But I still have Sunday! ...Then school. Then my birthday!

Oh, and I'm going to buy a used cop car.