Ami barreled down the stairs of her modest home, her eyes blurry from the hot tears welling in her eyes. With every few steps, the devastated young girl emitted a sniffle or two, barely even perceptible. So imperceptible, in fact, that the average, untrained human ear, would not have even picked up on the sound, but Henri Dubois was far from an average man. No, he was a father. From the very moment Henri had held his brand new, baby girl in his arms, he had vowed to protect the dear child down to his dieing breath. As a result, Monsieur Dubois had trained his mere human ears to recognize the slightest strain of distress in his darling Ami's voice. That was why, his daughter's sniffling did not go unnoticed.

The girl rushed past her father, nearly spinning him, around completely, but before Ami had a chance to escape, Monsieur Dubois gently grabbed his daughter by her delicate arm.

"Ami?" Henri furrowed his dark brows, "Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?"

"Ce n'est pas grave, Papa," Ami answer with surprising composure, "It's only my allergies acting up again. Those darn dandelions!"

"But it isn't even dandelion season..."

Monsieur Dubois' sentence was cut off by his very impatient looking daughter, "Excusez-moi, Papa," Ami begged, "but I still have a few chores to attend to before church begins. Father Bastien says that sloth is one of the seven deadly sins, you know. Now, you wouldn't want to be responsible for my sinning on a Sunday, would you, Papa?"

Before Henri Dubois could wrap his head around his daughter's words, Ami had effortlessly wrenched her arm from his gentle grip, and headed straight towards the door. Monsieur Dubois watched has Ami twisted the knob, and hurriedly opened the door, but she had one last thing to say before she closed the door behind her.

"Oh, Papa," Ami gave one of her covert sniffles, "Monsieur Stoddard is looking for you. He needs to borrow some Sunday clothing... I invited him to church."

With that, Ami shut the door with an unnaturally loud slam, and disappeared outside.

Monsieur Dubois turned to his wife in alarm, "What has gotten into that girl lately?"

Paulette answered with a smug little smile, as if she had knowledge of some kind of secret, "Oh, Henri, she's only a teenage girl... always unpredictable."

"Oui," Henri agreed, "yesterday, Ami referred ton our tenant by his name, Marshall, and today she is back to calling him by the more formal, Monsieur Stoddard!"

As soon as Monsieur Dubois had finished his sentence, his wife let out an audible gasp.

"What is it Paulette?" Henri asked, concern creeping into his voice.

"Oh, ce n'est pas grave, Henri," Madame Dubois reused their daughter's exact words from earlier, "pardonnez-moi, but I too have some... chores to attend to before mass, this morning."

Paulette lovingly kissed her husband on his cheek, and quickly followed Ami outside. When his wife was gone, Henri Dubois ran his fingers through his black hair, and sat in his favorite chair in the parlor. The poor man had no idea as to what was going on in his own home, anymore.

Upon stepping outside, Paulette immediately spotted her daughter sitting underneath an apple tree that grew right in their front yard. A smile unconsciously spread across her lips; she and Henri had planted that tree when their family had first moved into their home. It certainly had grown since then. However, Madame Dubois' smile quickly vanished from her face, when she noticed Ami's forlorn demeanor. The poor dear was sitting cross legged under the shade of the apple tree, picking at the green grass with her fingers.

Paulette quietly sat by her daughter's side, "Do your chores include sitting underneath the family apple tree, ma chérie?"

Ami sighed, "Non, I forgot... I finished all my chores already."

"I see," Madame Dubois began thoughtfully, "it is strange then, that you seem so downhearted."

"Mama," Ami looked up at her, "why does Claire Mercier get everything... anything at all that she desires is hers at the snap of a finger!"

Ami emphasized her words by snapping her own fingers, and Paulette laughed in spite of herself.

"Since when are you jealous of Claire's money, Ami?"

Her daughter frowned, "I'm not jealous of her money, Mama... just, you know... other things."

"Other things?" Madame Dubois arched an eyebrow.

"Forget it, Mama," Ami sighed again, "you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, no," Paulette Dubois giggled, "I wouldn't know the first thing about being a sixteen year old girl. It wasn't that long ago for me, ma chérie!"

"It's just... Marshall..."

"You like him," the mother finished.

"Oui," Ami sheepishly admitted with a blush, "but he admires another girl..."

"Claire?" Paulette interrupted, "Did Monsieur Stoddard say as much to you?"

"Well, no," Ami said perking up a bit.

"Interesting," Madame Dubois remarked, "now, where exactly did they meet. He has only been in town for three days, and most of that time, Monsieur spent with us."

"At the market," answered her daughter.

Paulette Dubois laughed lightheartedly at this, "The market! Why their encounter couldn't have lasted more than three minutes, Ami!"

"I didn't really consider that," Ami mused, "but still... Claire is so beautiful!"

"Oui, Claire is a pretty girl," Madame Dubois lifted the girl's chin in her gentle hands, "but she is no more pretty than you. A little competition never hurt anyone. Why give up so easily?"

"But, Mama..."

"I may not know Monsieur that well, Ami, but he doesn't seem like the type that falls for a pretty face alone. Claire hardly seems like a girl who knows the meaning of hard work... and Monsieur... well, I'm nearly forced to beat him down with a wooden spoon just to get him to stop fixing things around the house, or he'd work his fingers to the bone!"

"Well, that's true," Ami sat a little straighter, apparently considering her mother's sage advice.

"Now, Ami," Madame Dubois added somewhat sternly, "get up before you ruin your Sunday Dress. We can't have you wearing a soiled dress to Church. We'd be the laughing stalk of all Le Mans!"

"Oui, Mama," her daughter answered obediently, a rare occurrence for the girl, indeed.

Paulette suppressed a thin smile, as Ami stood to brush some dust from her white dress. Did the girl really have to sit in the dirt, in a white dress!

When Ami looked at least presentable, Madame Dubois added, "Now, let's go into the house, and after mass we're going to have to have a talk about your behavior at the market, yesterday. Madame Dupont, and Madame Cloutier gave me some very distressing news... harassing poor Pierre again..."

"Oh, no," groaned Ami.

"Oh, yes," Paulette clicked her tongue at her daughter, "but, now we must round up the menfolk before we're late for church. Father Bastien would not be pleased."

Quick French Lesson

Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? = What's wrong?

Ce n'est pas grave = It's nothing/ It's no big deal

Ultra Special Blah Blah Blah

So, I totally had a different scene planned for this chapter, but Converse suggested something similar to this. Is this what you had in mind, dear? Sorry, that i couldn't quite fir in the bit about the spaceship, though... maybe some other time...

Oh, man... I just love the stereotypical father types. SO overprotective, yet clueless at the same time!

I tried to make Ami seem like the typical lovestruck girl in this chapter. She's all like, 'OMG! It's the end of the world because Marshall is in love with CLAIRE! It's totally not fair, because I saw him first! Hussy!' and then her mother is all like, 'Calm down, Ami. They barely even had time to speak with each other. Give the girl a run for her money!'

Anyway, I'm tired. time to sleep, now. Catch you on the flip side!

Turtles in a half shell,

xJadeRainx