Disclaimer: I own nothing, Faith belongs to Joss Whedon et al, and Joan is owned by Barbara Hall et. al. I'm making no money off of this. This is written for the Faith 20 minute challenge.


“I want you to help her,” God, in the guise of the little girl with large reddish locks and glasses, pointed to a woman in her early twenties. She sat under a tree

watching the kids playing on the playground. She wasn’t doing anything, just watching.

Joan blinked. “What?” she followed the little girl’s finger. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just go over there and sit down and start talking!”

The little girl cocked her head. “Why not Joan, what’s stopping you?”

“What’s stopping me?” Joan hissed. “I’ll look like a freak!”

God shrugged, “Freak is a relative term Joan. Just go and talk to her.” Bouncing the ball in her hands, the little girl smiled. “See you later.” She began to walk away.

“Wait, wait!” Joan called, the little girl turned. “What’s am I supposed to say?” God just smirked and went to go play.

Joan turned and began trudging towards the woman she was supposed to talk to.


“I remember used to playing on those,” Joan said, sitting down next to the dark haired woman; she spoke of the swing set. “That is, until I remember my

brother pushing me off and breaking my wrist. It gives me the wiggins to this day.” The woman nodded, but said nothing. “I’m Joan by the way,” Joan held out her

hand.

“Faith,” the woman shook Joan’s hand. “I haven’t been on one of those in the longest time.”

Joan nodded. “Fun weren’t they?” she asked. The two fell into a silence and Joan wracked her brain for something to talk about. She looked Faith over, dark

hair, straight, hung down her back. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top, really non descript if you think about it. “You’ve been in Arcadia long?” Joan

finally asked. That was a safe topic, right?

Faith shrugged, “A day or two. Just passing through. Thought it would be nice to see how the smaller ones lived.” She smiled softly. “They’re so innocent, so

free.”

Joan shrugged, “I don’t know. Being a kid is so overrated. I mean, you have to listen to your parents all the time, and there’s no way to get out of it. You don’t

have a license. Besides, whose really innocent these days?”

Faith shrugged, “But it still might be nice to be one of them.” But, she thought, being normal is so overrated. “Five by five either way, I guess.”