A/N:Happy three day weekend everyone!!! I think we all can agree, Columbus is WILD!! I know I haven't updated "My Friends" for a while but I could not get this one story out of my head! I hope to get the next chapter up soon but first a little Coraline/Wybie fic courtesy of me. I hope you like it!

DISCLAIMER:I only own the DVD, and the plot so PLEASE DON'T SUE

~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~


*Midnight, not a sound from the pavement. Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone*

From the waterlogged sky fell a drizzle of rain, coating the small town of Ashland in a light silver mist. It was late so most of the shops were closed and all the houses were dark and secure. Despite the ungodly hour the old-fashioned street lamps had not yet been put out, but the only one up and about to witness their fatalistic glow was a young women named Coraline Jones.

The 20 year old's too small rain boots squeaked under the wet sidewalk, as she strolled aimlessly down the deserted street. She stopped only once at the crosswalk, stuffing her hand in her rain coat's pocket, contemplating if the small wad of cash was enough for a room at the town's inn. The orphanage was always an option, a small voice in the back of her mind reminded her. For despite the first few rebellious and disrespectful years the owners would always be happy to see her and welcome her with open arms.

During her visits she ignored the awe-struck looks from the little children and the boasting praise she received whenever the owners pointed out the bulletin board, tacked with newspaper clippings and pictures all about her and the mark she left on the, once gloomy place. If you ever wander into the modest establishment and inquire about young Coraline, watch how the two middle-aged women swell with pride and make a dramatic gesture out one of the story high windows. Outside, if the glass is not foggy with condensation you just might see a beautiful and colorful garden, full of wild flowers and a large dark blue gardening shed.

The owners will say how they still remember the day she came to the orphanage, dressed in her rain gear and carrying her floral suitcase. Now many young orphaned children carry pictures, a stuffed animal, or some kind of memorabilia from their past life but Miss. Jones had only her bus stop hat and her gardening tools.

Coraline remembers the barrier she established between her and the other children, the plight of loneliness she brought onto herself and how any attempts at socialization would be fitted with a dry humored or sarcastic tone. The only time that she did seem happy was when she was gathering wild flowers from the park development or drawing on bits of scrap paper, which most of the time was the case because of the terrible weather in the small town.

Late at night, the other children would watch intently from the doorway of Coraline's room as the strange girl drew on the back of soup labels or sticky notes late into the night. In the light of the single bedside lamp they would study her stern and relieved facial expression as she tacked her newest creation above her desk and under the one lone window that allowed moonlight into the small room. Even with the lamp turned off the peeping kids could still admire the drawing in the light of the full moon. One particular night Coraline drew a large picture of a perfectly square building made of grey limestone and with a muddy, almost bare lawn. Her new home, the Ashland town orphanage.

The crowd of spectators at her door were puzzled at her sudden change in style for her art. The new drawing looked dull next to all the other small and colorful doodles of the sun, the moon, bugs, and flowers. They decided it was because the other drawings were colored in. "She must not be finished with it." They said.

And boy were they right, for the very next day Coraline tore the drawing down from the wall and erased all of ground, replacing it with flowers. Lilies, roses, and daffodils were drawn all over the sketch and colored in later that night. The children were still confused at her antics. They would whisper late at night while the odd child slept in her bed. "Its a lovely drawing but what does it mean?"

All became clear the very next day when the young artist went out in the pouring rain with her gardening tools and a small bag of seeds she collected during all those trips to the park. Some scoffed and others, mostly her admirers watched as she planted her dream deep into the soggy earth. She resembled some sort of blue-haired nymph fluttering about the property, tending to her garden. She even did extra chores around the house so that at she could raise money for more flowers, and grass seed.

She seemed more down to earth, and inspired than she had been throughout her entire stay. She would wake up earlier than everyone else just so that she could get out before anyone else and in any kind of weather. Most of the time she would come back soaked to the bone and poison oak all down her arms but no body objected to her extended recess, not even the owners. They would invite Coraline to their office and treat her skin irritation as they listened to her excited chatter about the small sprouts that had begun to show.

By mid-spring the garden was in full bloom and the children's curiosity peaked. They joined Coraline outside. The yard was large enough for all the children to vent their boredom and unused creativity. Coraline didn't seem to mind though, she continued along, and over the years gardening became a yearlong event at the establishment. The owners put money towards buying gardening tools for everyone, they gave kids seeds as prizes for good behavior, and they held garden parties for the charities that donated money towards the orphanage.

The orphanage soon became the greenest place in all of Ashland and members of the the press were drawn to it like lost nails to a magnet. The children and owners had never seen such a proud expression on Coraline round face as she answered the reporter's questions and posed happily as they snapped pictures of her cutting the ribbon to the new gardening shed. Bright lights and the sound of pencils writing rapidly on the reporters small pads of paper filled the garden for a long time but as winter rolled around, the crowds died along with the flowers.

But this didn't faze Coraline. She returned to her drawing corner as soon as the first frost set in, but this time with a large scrapbook filled with flowers she pressed and preserved. Using the book as a guide she drew blue prints for next year's garden for everyone to admire and as soon as spring began they all started on her beautifully drawn plan.

The gardening tradition lived on even when Coraline left on her own free will, on her eighteenth birthday. She was an adult and she felt more than ready to travel beyond the orphanages iron gates so she packed up her things (She left all of her drawings) and headed down the path. As she strolled through the garden, her garden for the last time she looked back at one little girl who was trying to plant a tulipbulb with a small hoe and failing miserably.

"Use a shovel," She suggested to the wide-eyed child. "I'm sure you will have a much easier time." The young girl picked up the small gardening tool and looked up to thank her but when she did, she saw that Coraline had already left. A cool early spring breeze traveled through the property and it whispered as it ran through the curtains of ivy. Good bye.

Coraline's luck hadn't improved much since then. She travel all over town from busy main streets and big corporations to small town squares and suburbs, taking small jobs as she moved along. Now the young women was, quite literally standing at the crossroads wondering, "Well what now?"

She was brought out of her trip down memory lane by a few drops of moisture that had landed on the back of her hand. She looked up at the darkening sky and another drop landed on the bridge of her nose. Wiping it away she ran for cover from the rain that had started to come down in sheets. Luckily she found a small store that had forgotten to retract the large awning that stretched over the sidewalk.

Dry and under the protection of the cloth canopy, Coraline placed her suitcase next to her and she sat, leaning against the brick wall behind her. She watched as the heavy rain drops fell around her and pelted the flames of the streetlamps. As the light around her dimmed she listened to the steady plop-plop of water hitting the pavement. The sound was serene and comforting and like everything else in the young women's life, gone in an instant when a crash echoed down the dark alley next to her.

Coraline's eyes widened as a trash can lid rolled out from the alley on its side and collapsed right in front of her. Grasping her things and the lid she ventured into the dark alley alone. A flickering floodlight showed her a long row of metal trash cans and a pile of boxes thrown haphazardly against the wall but there was no perpetrator to the loud crash that still rang in Coraline's ear. Traveling further into the alley she heard a low growling that made her skin crawl. She was just about to place the lid on the ground and leave when out of the mountain of boxes jumped a gaunt black cat. He meowed lowly making Coraline turn and lock eyes with him. Now feeling relieved, Coraline waved airily and regarded him with a smile.

"Hello." She said taking a step towards him but as soon as she did he tensed and jumped off the large box he was sitting upon. "Wait!" She called after him as he bolted down the alley. "Its ok, I wont hurt you." He was almost out of the alley when she asked him "Are you lost?" His battered ears perked up and he turned around. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a packet of pepperoni, her only food, and offered him a slice.

"Its ok, I'm lost too." The black cat slinked towards her and sniffed the food between her fingers before taking it into his mouth. She popped a piece into her own mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. It was then, she saw a dirty piece of string tied around his neck and a small name tag dangling from it. The friendly feline allowed Coraline to reach under him and bring the flat, metal disk into the light. She raised her eyebrows as she read his name.

"CAT"

Cat nuzzled her hand affectionately and Coraline smiled at the creatures sudden warmness towards her and from the fact that the tag also had an address printed on the back. "Well come on." she held out her arms to him and he allowed her to pick him up. The odd pair traveled out of the alley and much to their delight, the rain had lessened during their introduction to each other. Coraline had a small smile on her face as she carried the warm bundle of fur in her arms. She pointed one finger out in front of them.

"Onward!" She laughed at her own antics and read off the tag. "To 146 Applegate Drive." Otherwise known as The Pink Palace.

*Someone mutters in the street lamp's gutters and soon it will be morning*

~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~(^.,.^)/~

My gawds! This chapter has to be the longest thing I have ever published. So I hope you get the main idea. Coraline's parents didn't survive "the accident" and now shes off to the Pink Palace. Wybie will be in the next chapter, which I hope to finish by next week but you never know. :D Please read and review and I hope everyone has a wonderful week!

Autumn Eve 333