Just a girl whose intentions are good

Jo grunted as she heaved yet another shovelful of dirt out of the grave, narrowly missing Jet who stood by the side of the hole, tail wagging, paws caked with mud from 'helping' her earlier.

"You reached it yet?"

She took a moment to wipe the sweat off her forehead before replying "Not yet, Mom."

"Well hurry it up," Ellen said, glancing down into the grave. "We want to be out of here before sun-up."

"I'm going as fast as I can, so unless you've got a backhoe in your pocket it's not going to get dug up any faster."

"Don't you sass me, Joanna Beth Harvelle." It was never a good sign when Ellen broke out the full name, even when she wasn't armed. "You're the one who insisted on this damn fool idea."

"You're the one who insisted on coming along," Jo muttered, just loud enough for her mother to hear.

"That's because someone has to keep you from getting killed."

Any reply Jo made was lost in the cracking and splintering as Jo's shovel hit wood instead of dirt. "Found it."

"Here." Ellen handed Jo down a carton and a bottle. "And I'd like to point out that if you'd listened to me we'd be drinking that instead of using it as accelerant."

After checking herself in the mirror one final time, Jo busied herself with carefully laying a rug out on the floor. A task made somewhat harder by the fact Jet considered putting himself under it and on top of it a great game, but finally the rug was on the floor, the dog wasn't on the rug, and the tv was facing the rug.

Now Jo need just one more thing, and she most certainly didn't keep glancing towards the clock as she waited for him to arrive.

[For the Narnian King.]