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Ain't No Fun (waitin' around for God to get His head in the game)

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It's a beautiful but unfortunate Sunday afternoon, perfect for a book-and-picnic-in-the-park, when CuteBoy!God tells Joan she needs to take a road trip to Kansas. Since this is quite possibly one of the less weird things God has asked her to do, and also because she has a little money leftover from her last paycheck for gas money, and also because it didn't seem to be a suggestion, Joan thinks, what the heck, and goes for it.

(By the time Lebanon, Kansas rolls around, Joan realizes her fuel tank hasn't dipped below three quarters. Hey, at least God gave her a break, just this once.)

There's a twitch somewhere inside her that turns the car where it needs to go and somehow she ends up out in The Middle Of Nowhere(TM) on a little dirt road that, had it rained in the past three months, her car might not have made it back to town. Well, thank God for summer. Literally.

Eventually she comes to the end of the road, where she finds a really old (but awfully nice) car and a door in the side of a hill. Joan turns off her engine and looks at the door for a while. It doesn't seem evil, or creepy--at least not terribly so--but neither did Ryan Hunter, and look where that got her. And probably someone is here. Possibly multiple someones. She sighs, hops out of the car, and knocks on the door.

Nothing happens for a few moments, and then the door slowly creaks open. "Uh--"

Joan stares. "No freakin' way," she says. "Oh, God, this is why you miracled my gas tank, isn't it. Because you could've just, like, zapped me here and instead you made waste like, two days of my time when I could've been actually working instead of driving out into the middle of nowhere just, like--and I'm rambling, aren't I," she finishes, scuffling her feet a little. God works in mysterious ways and all, but she's known Him for years. She thinks she's earned a little leeway in how mad she gets when she thinks He's led her on a wild goose chase.

God is standing in the doorway in His stocking feet. If Joan were to be honest, He looks a little shocked. He's wearing fifteen more layers than normal and that can't possibly be comfortable in Kansas in August, but maybe God's immune to sunstroke. "Uh," he says again.

"Exactly my thoughts." Joan shoves her way past him into the house-dugout-bunker-thing. Whatever this place is. It actually looks pretty cool on the inside, with bookcases and cool swords and comfy chairs everywhere. Awesome. "So I was wondering," she says, once God has closed the door and joined her in the massive room, "what you're doing in Kansas. What /I'm/ doing in Kansas."

God seems to have recovered from the shock of seeing Joan actually obey Him to the letter for once, but then He goes and says, "Do I know you?"

Joan rolls her eyes. "You've known me forever. Literally."

"I don't think so," God says, scrutinizing her with a little frown on His face.

"You're the one who told me to come here. Well, Kansas, anyway," Joan amends.

"I think you've mistaken me for someone else," God says, slowly, like He's talking to a three-year-old. And okay, maybe she acts like a three-year-old sometimes, but that's no excuse to treat her like one.

But before she can launch into another round of questions, a harsh voice barks, "Who the hell are you?"

She jumps like three feet in the air at the guy who just showed up out of nowhere. He's pretty tall, and really hot, and his voice has probably turned men gay, but the expression on his face is anything but welcoming. "Joan Girardi," she says, when it looks like he might carve her up for dinner. And wouldn't it be great if God paid for her gas only to have her converting cannibals in Kansas.

"Yeah, well, forgive me if I'm a little skeptical," the man says. He glares some more at her, then reaches for a glass sitting on the cabinet nearest him.

"Dean, she's okay," God says, and he and Dean share a look that could mean anything from 'let's humor Joan' to 'I'm God and I like Joan so suck it.' Joan really hopes it's the latter.

Dean sets the glass down and relaxes. "Where did you even come from?" he asks, and this time the question is directed to Joan.

Joan jerks a thumb at God, who shrinks back a bit and shoves His hands in His pockets. "On Sunday, He was just like, yo, Kansas trip, ASAP. And then I ended up here, and He still hasn't told me what I'm supposed to be doing yet."

If anything, Dean and God look more confused than before. "What?" God says, squinting at her. He shoots a terrified glance at Dean. "I swear, Dean, I've never seen her before in my life."

Okay, that's the last straw. Joan can understand playing dumb. She can even understand a little bit of denial. But for Pete's sake she's been the servant of God for half her life and she's not going to stop just because God doesn't feel like helping her out. "Look," she starts, feeling a match strike a little righteous indignation into flames, "just because you don't want Dean, or whoever he is, to know about me--"

"Know about who?" a female voice says, and then the reddest-haired woman she's ever seen walks into the room. When she sees Joan, her eyebrows race to her hairline. "So, you got here. Brilliant." And then she winks.

Joan stares.

"What?" says Dean.

"Uh," says apparently-not-God.

God smirks. "I'm glad you appreciate the gas, Joan. I know how hard it is to keep up the 'servant of the Lord' gig when you're paying off student loans."

Apparently Joan has recovered enough to sass back, "Well, you could just pay off the student loans and then everything would be brilliant!" before she can stop herself.

"That would be /intervening," God says.

Joan glances at Dean and not-God, who are currently attempting to pick their jaws off the ground, and wonders if she can talk God into giving the explanations this time, or if that would be intervening too.