Hey everyone! Third chapter going up! I want to thank Midnight Jazz, for her great comments. She's being very helpful. You guys should so go check out her stories, and if you have any questions then feel free to ask me.

Chad stared as the city whipped past him. He’d never physically moved this fast in his entire life, and everything was a bit overwhelming. Joan had made a point of forcing a helmet over his head, giving him hers to protect him, but it doing nothing to keep her hair from dreadfully tangling itself around his face. Chad wanted to push it away, but was too afraid to move his arms from where they rested on his knees. He had tried to hold onto Joan, but every time he touched her, she moved his hand back. It had been throwing her off balance.

Finally they screeched to a halt that almost sent Chad flipping over his new companion. Instead, he gripped the seat of the bike between his legs and grunted. Joan paid him no heed and dismounted the machine easily, somehow managing not to kick him in the process. Reaching over, she unbuckled and removed Chad’s helmet from his head.

Chad stepped off of the bike rather clumsily and flinched as it started to tip. Joan caught it though, and turned. She rolled it like a bicycle up to an old wooden door in the back of a building he did not recognize immediately. On the top of the door was a red cross; painted in what he assumed was spray paint. No one would use blood nowadays, but nevertheless, it was an ominous touch. Chad found himself staring as she touched the cross in respect before unlocking the door and stepping inside- bringing the motorized bike with her…

This needless to say, confused Chad. But he managed to shrug it off and follow, standing in the doorway for a moment before he felt he was allowed to close the door behind him. Sighing, he looked around the dimly lit room. It was lit by a tiny light bulb with a pull string in the center of the ceiling. Chad looked around. The place was sparsely furnished, with a computer missing all of its casing at one end on a desk, and a television at the other end. There was one door which he supposed led to a bathroom, and next to it was a half-sized refrigerator, atop which sat an old looking microwave. The entire room held one chair, which collapsed and was easily moved from TV to computer.

Chad wondered how she had managed to keep herself looking so happy and healthy while living in a place like this. Even his own home felt nicer- and he’d been living off of minimum wage for the past four years. Joan was taking off her jacket and hanging it on a hook in the wall he had not noticed before. The bright white contrasted greatly with the gloom of the tiny room, and Chad found himself wondering how her clothes had not seemed to have gathered a speck of dirt.

Joan took a seat on the old carpet and pointed to the chair that currently sat at her desk. Chad declined the offer and sat across from her on the floor, leaning forward. The girl did not seem to care one way or another, though.

“You were going to kill him.” She said at last.

“He was going to kill the other man.” Chad replied, slightly startled that she would be scolding him for trying to save another human’s life.

“That makes you no better. If you can, you must find any way possible to prevent pain. Or at the very least, prevent death.” Joan lectured, not removing her sunglasses, and staring at him through the shaded lenses. Chad swallowed.

“Never go looking to kill, Chad. I don’t care if you don’t believe. You should have better ethics.” She said at last, before standing. Chad blinked, and tried to retort, but she still intimidated him. He could not speak, because deep down, he knew that she was right.

The woman stepped to the door that Chad had originally guessed was a restroom, and opened the door. Light poured into the room. Joan removed her sunglasses and tossed them onto her desk before stepping inside. When she removed the glasses, Chad gasped. She still looked as though she was going to cry, and Chad could almost see the pain of the world reflected in her crystal blue gaze. As she shut the door, an echo resounded through the building. There was something more there than a toilet.

Chad found himself scrambling to his feet to follow her. His curiosity was killing him, and he would be incredibly embarrassed if it was just a bathroom, and he’d misjudged the sound. But for some reason, just an earthly task as relieving herself seemed below her. He opened the door.

Before him lay a long hallway, lit by small lights on the walls, with exactly five doors on the sides, and one at the end. Joan was nowhere to be found. He did not feel that he had the right to go snooping, so instead he walked straight down the hallway and opened the door to the far end by a small crack.

He should have known.

Before him lay the familiar pews and cross of the Cathedral he had found himself in so long ago, but from a much different angle. He watched Joan as she ran her fingertips over one of the pews, looking in the back for what he could only assume was a bible. He was right. She plucked the book up gingerly and opened it, reading a page for herself before snapping it shut. The whole while, Chad could not take his eyes off of hers.

But she was not crying. Her clothes were so white that they glowed, and he was almost sure that she was not human. But she had to be, and she was probably the most perfect human being in existence. Chad stepped back quietly and shut the door before turning back to the room she had left him in to sit on the chair and wait for her return. He watched the door patiently.

How long he sat there he was not sure, but he had closed his eyes and rested his head on the desk. Surely he had heard her before he saw her.

“Chad?” He snapped up and turned to her before grinning sheepishly. She was not looking up at him, but pulled her glasses up from where they sat, close to his fingertips. Replacing them to her face, she faced him. “You can’t go home.”

This threw the man off guard.

“WHAT?” He shouted. What was she going to do now? Hold him captive? Though she was a slim woman, he had no doubt that she had the capability of doing so. Something crept up his spine as he thought about how it would probably only take her looking at him with those pained eyes to keep him stuck to his chair.

“You can’t. It was never your home and you know it. They’ve seen your face. Seen your eyes. Seen your very soul. I’ll take you back to your apartment tomorrow. We can grab whatever you can carry and think you need and bring it back here.” The reference to his eyes made him flinch. Was that what he was seeing when he looked into the blue orbs of hers? Her soul?

“But everything I ever knew is there. You expect me to just leave it?” She did not respond, but let her previous words sink in. Finally, it struck him. If he went back, they would be waiting, and they would kill him. Soul or not. He swallowed hard, and nodded reluctantly. A smile graced the woman’s features, and she tossed a book into his lap.

“I would suggest you read that.” But Chad groaned.

He hated the Bible.

It was nothing personal, but it just bored him. He could not understand a thing it said, and every time he looked at it, his understanding of the world was compromised. Joan knelt down in front of him and flipped the book open, skipping the New Testament entirely.

“Read the stories.” She murmured, and his heart skipped a beat. “They’re good for you.”

Chad looked down and began to read, reluctantly at first, but eventually picking it up and attempting to fall into it. But eventually he was able to decipher the strange way of speaking and convert it to modern English. He did not know what Joan was doing, but occasionally he would see the light of her white clothing as she moved around the room.

Finally Chad put the book down and saw Joan lying in the floor in front of the TV, wrapped in a tan blanket, and chewing on her thumbnail. He watched her for a moment, hearing only the low fuzz and slightly annoying words of the television before hearing her mutter something that he could only guess was some sort of angry word. But what it meant did not even slightly register in his mind.

Then it hit him.

She was speaking French! Before he had never realized her accent, too preoccupied with her clothing, odd ways, and mysterious eyes. Something made him very happy about this discovery, making him feel closer to her for some odd reason. Every little thing made him feel less intimidated, and more like he was looking at a human being rather than some Archangel that had become obsessed with fixing the human race.

He closed the book quietly and set it on the desk before standing and striding over to sit next to her and lean against the wall. He dared not look at the television. He was in no mood to be put through watching 

the evils of the world. He had no clue why she stared so. Her sunglasses reflected the pictures on the screen and he turned to look away from her face and directly above the object of his current hate. He fixed his eyes on an elaborate cross that hung above the mechanical device, as though attempting to make it holy.

Joan spoke. “I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?” replied the startled Chad, glancing over to the girl that sat curled into a ball and almost shielding herself with the blanket.

“How people can do this to other people. What would cause them to be so cold?” And for a moment, Chad thought he could see her eyes through her glasses. He was feeling bold, and found no reason to not treat Joan as a friend after she had decided to let him stay with her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Not everyone is.” He reassured her. “I guess some people are too afraid.”

“Of what?” She asked.

“The end, I suppose. I mean, they only do things like this to make sure they live happy lives, and power and wealth have come to equal happiness, and once you take a thing too far and convince yourself that you are happy with it, there’s no going back.” Chad had no idea where this sudden information was coming from, but it made sense to him, and he smiled at her reassuringly.

He guessed everyone needed someone to lean on, and he had no clue as to if Joan had someone. So he would be here for her, now that he was sure she was not too inhuman to touch. He smiled as Joan leaned into him, and continued to watch the bloody newscast.

“Thank you Chad.”

“Not a problem. Let’s just say we’re even now.”

They stayed sitting like that for hours, now a couple of the best friends anyone could have.

Now, I hope you guys don't mind the ending. I think it's fitting. I mean, sure, in real life it would take a while to make a friend like that, but Joan is a very special character- as you may have guessed. So she's able to pick up friends fast. So deal with it. Hehe. Sorry. Review! Thanks!