Standing in his front yard, head tilted slightly to the right, eyes staring blankly at his once beautiful car, Johnny Depp chewed the inside of his cheek nervously. The gate was twisted, bent a little bit, but it was steel. Durable, thats why he had it put up. But if he had any idea what he was going to do today, he would have put the whole idea of gates out of his head.

The car, thats what had the most damage. His brand new car. He touched the hood of the car softly, trailing his fingers along the smooth metal, until he reached where the metal dipped down, mutilated by the steel gates. Sighing, he reached up and ran a hand across his forehead. Feeling something moist on his fingers, he looked at his hand.

Blood. Not much of it. He touched his fingers back up to his wounded forehead, smearing the blood a little, accidently. He hadnt been hurt badly in the crash...

He wasnt sure if that was a good thing, as he glanced behind him, at Vanessa Paradis, running towards him from the house, eyes wide. No doubt she heard the crash. And his scream when he had stepped out of the car, via the passenger side door, because the drivers side door was up against the wall, beside the gate, and saw the damage.

She was wearing tight hip hugging blue jeans, and a red sleeveless shirt, that said, "J'adore." In sparkly letters across the front. Her long blond hair was pulled into a twist on the back of her head, held in place with a large clip. She had no makeup on, except maybe the slightest amount of lip gloss.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as she came to a halt beside him, and grabbed his arm. She looked at him, as if to see if he was hurt, surveyed him very closely for a minute, and then wrinkled her nose, like she always does when shes angry, wound up and punched him in the chest.

It didnt hurt, really, it just pissed him off. He glared at her. He doesnt hit her, so why the FUCK does she hit him? She shook her head and pushed him a little bit, but he stood his ground.

"Que pensiez-vous?" She said loudly, watching him expectantly for an answer. He shook his head, his long hair bouncing around as he did so, he seemed more concerned with the car, than with her at the moment.

What the fuck does she mean, what was he thinking? Yeah... He just decided to ram his precious car into the gates outside his house today. Hello, it was an ACCIDENT!

"Nothing, Vanessa, go inside."

"Non, que passait par votre esprit?!" She demanded, pointing to the car with one hand, the other on her hip. He shrugged, nothing was really going through his mind, he didnt know what happened. He watched her sigh, exasperatedly, and shake her head. "Vous pourriez avoir �t� bless�!"

He shoved his hands in his pockets, and rocked back on his heels nervously, pursing his lips together. Does she think he doesnt know he could have been hurt? He was fine, it was his CAR he was worried about right now.

She turned on him, as if something had dawned on her, and asked increduously, "ETIEZ-VOUS IVRE?!"

"No!" He snapped, glaring at her. Great, she thought he was drunk. He looked at his car again, and then hung his head. Although, it was more believable that way, he was completely sober when this happened. He sighed and kicked a pebble across the driveway.

"Combien est-il dur pour ouvrir la porte avant que vous conduisiez � travers?" She asked, shaking her head, and looking at him in disgust.

She wanted to know how hard it was to open the gate. He shrugged. It wasnt hard to open the gate, you press a little button. Of course, he didnt MEAN TO DO THIS! She seemed to be overlooking this part of the ordeal.

"Vanessa," He rolled his eyes, "Go inside, its under control, its fine."

There was silence for a minute, only the sound of leaves rustling as the breeze blew through the trees. Johnny closed his eyes, feeling the cool air on his skin, and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes, and looked slightly out of the corner of his eye at Vanessa.

She glanced at the smashed up car, and then back at Johnny and sighed, shaking her head as she turned and walked slowly back towards the house, putting her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, glancing once back over her shoulder at him, and called, "Je biseaute vous crois!"

She didnt believe him. He nodded. He was pretty unbelievable sometimes. He watched her go into the house, and then looked back at his precious car. Shit, he thought, touching the hood again, sadly staring at the twisted metal. Accidents happen.