Chapter 7 added on 21 Dec 2001
Disclaimers are in part 1.
Rating: PG13
Kathryn paced. She had tried sitting, sleeping, eating, and even a 'soothing cup of herbal tea' as the Doctor had suggested but in the end she just paced. She wondered what it was about tense circumstances that brought that out in her, probably the need to be doing something, even if it was pointless, or maybe a childish hope that if she worried hard enough Seven would suddenly be restored to her. So she paced, and thought and ignored all callers.
The message had been sent over three hours ago, though for all she knew they hadn't even got it yet, as Harry had pointed out this wasn't an exact transfer, more a subprogram to be implanted and run when the main programme noticed it was waiting there. Chakotay had come in to see her three times, after firmly telling her to leave the bridge as she was putting everyone else on edge. So when the doorbell chimed Kathryn assumed it was her well meaning, and soon to be locked up in his quarters away from her, first officer.
"What?" she barked at the door, the door judged this to be the most civil invitation the occupant was capable of, so decided to open before this irrational human started throwing things at it again. It was only a door after all, it opened and closed that's what it did, life was simple.
"Captain, am I disturbing you?" Tuvok's rich tones broke into the stale atmosphere of the room.
Kathryn smiled wryly and took a seat, beckoning him over, "Yes, but then everyone is disturbing me today so what's one more nosy officer?" she suggested.
Tuvok of course didn't look offended, but his tone may have been fractionally more composed than it was before. "If you listened to your officers' advice the first time it was given you would not need to be continually disturbed by it." He said, arching an eyebrow, and tilting his head slightly to regard her better.
Janeway was a mess, she had no uniform tunic on, just an un-tucked grey undershirt, her hair was a mess, her shoes had been kicked off and he spotted one of them on the floor by the replicator. Her desk and table were both littered by dirty coffee cups and a less composed officer might have been tempted to point out to her she really could do with a shower.
Now, if you are friends with someone for long enough a certain 'vibe' develops which allows you to know when they are lying, when they need your help even if they aren't willing to ask. And when, if they were anything less of a friend they would embarrass you by stating loudly your flies were undone or you had lipstick on your teeth, rather than just subtly indicating it to you before you could further humiliate yourself.
As a result Kathryn was able to decipher Tuvok's analytical observation of the room, and the remote curling of his lip. "I look kind of a mess huh old friend?" said Kathryn, running her fingers through her hair in a vain effort to prevent it from sticking out at a right angle.
Tuvok refrained from commenting, barely. "Perhaps your time would be best spent by resting and then covering Commander Chakotay on the Beta shift as he has taken the alpha shift, unless our missing crewmates have been returned to us, in which case."
"In which case what?" asked Kathryn, intrigued by the sudden cessation in Tuvok's speech.
"In which case" he continued, "Perhaps you could spend some time developing better privacy locks for future holodeck use?" then with a swift nod he turned and left the room, leaving Kathryn with her mouth hanging open.
Half a ship away, as Kathryn finally followed the advice and headed back to her quarters for a bath and some fresh clothes, Tom was sitting on a table next to the window in the mess hall. A mug of hot chocolate was in his hands, still steaming gently, he took a sip and smiled, B'Elanna loved this blend so much, chocolate vanilla with mini marshmallows. He wondered where she was.
Having ascertained that the holodeck would be drawing from the most recent programs run to create the simulation in which Lana and Seven were now trapped Tom had called up the records and had a look.
In addition to his 1920's Chicago card lounge there was a café in Paris, a diner in 1950's America (Harry and his program) a medical simulation the Doc had been running. Tom had asked about and been told, "Sometimes technology is not always readily available Mr Paris. Even a physician of my considerable skill needs to practice utilising only the most elementary equipment to deal with highly complex problems." Then, a little too arrogantly Tom felt, the Doctor added, "Perhaps you could benefit from trying the program yourself."
There were various movies listed as having been shown there, then the last two programs were a prehistoric simulation a group of security officers had been running as a recreation program, (Tom had rolled his eyes a lot at that information) and most recently, whatever the Captain had been running. Which after some poking around he had decided was probably a medieval style dance hall.
With the exception of the whole 80ft vicious carnivore thing he wasn't too worried. Still, Tom realised he really missed B'Elanna.
"Mr Paris, can I get you another cup of chocolate?" inquired Neelix. Voyager's resident chef had headed over unnoticed to Tom's table and was now standing there expectantly. There was something about the Talaxian that always reminded Tom of a Golden Retriever, waiting eagerly for someone to play catch with him. Tom really did like him.
"No its OK Neelix, I think my blood's going to be replaced by chocolate if I drink anymore of this stuff" Tom grinned roguishly while Neelix chuckled.
"Well I'm sure the Doctor would have something to say about that" he joked, sitting down opposite Tom, "Mind you B'Elanna might quite enjoy it!" Tom grinned and then went back to staring into his cup.
"She's got to be all right Neelix," said Tom nervously, "I miss her" in a rare moment of levity Tom didn't try to hide behind sarcasm, "If she isn't OK it will all be my fault"
"Don't be silly," said Neelix firmly, pulling the orange and mint green harlequin checked hat (that matched the rest of clothes in a kind of psychedelic nightmare) of his head and twisting it between his hands. "Seven and B'Elanna are both very capable Tom, and this isn't your fault, but you can help, who knows more about holodecks than you?"
Tom seemed to buck up a bit at that, hopeful he could actually do something useful. "Maybe" he said thoughtfully, "I know that Harry's sorted out a lot of it, but perhaps I can help to give them a smooth ride back. Yeah, thanks Neelix." Tom bounded up and headed for the door, Neelix thought idly Tom always looked like a spaniel puppy, eager to please but very easily over excited. He snorted at the thought, and then turned his attention to Tuvok who was standing at the counter warily peering at his Crackus pod stew.
"Mr Vulcan" called out Neelix, "I'll be right there." Settling the hat back on his head he headed back to his kitchen.
They had found a cab; just sitting outside waiting for them, and after checking the address in the advert in the phone book they directed the obliging cabby to the card lounge.
Jerry's wasn't open yet, 1pm was still a little early for mobsters to be up and able to do anything that didn't involve guns sirens and running, at least according to waitress who harried them away from the shuttered front door before the bouncers came out to greet them.
So Seven and B'Elanna went for lunch, which involved 'super subs' in the park. The crispy sandwiches were perfect, stuffed full and chewy, eating them involved clever positioning of hands and mouths to prevent debris from falling all over them. When they could eat no more Seven started throwing leftovers to the ducks on the muddy artificial lake in front of them, while B'Elanna settled on baiting the grey squirrels. The squirrels ran up the trees leaping from branch to branch before perfectly executing a fall, to land them just out of reach of B'Elanna's outstretched hand, but potentially in the circle of all available food. Where as Seven's ducks just stayed still and demanded loudly when the flow of edibles stemmed. There was something gloriously domestic about the whole thing.
They talked of inconsequential things, What they would do first when they got back? (Seven wanted to wash her hair properly; B'Elanna smirked and threatened to provide detailed commentary on her preferred joint activity.) What was their idea of a perfect day?
Seven said smugly, "Facing a problem so complex only a Borg could solve, and then solving it for the benefit of the whole crew." Following that B'Elanna settled on "Proving said arrogant smart-ass half-mechanoid wrong!"
After that they contented themselves with general teasing and bizarre word games, such as 'Guess how many words your partner is capable of saying during sex (with you)?' (Seven declared stolidly that Kathryn could mange "Oh god" and "Seven" at various decibel levels. B'Elanna said that Tom could only manage, "Yes, Yes, Yes" but they decided that didn't mean B'Elanna had won, just that Tom was completely inarticulate all the time.
Then there was the fascinating, 'Find the engineering term with most syllables', B'Elanna won that narrowly with a word Seven wasn't convinced was real and sounded suspiciously like 'Hah-take-that-arrogant-slug' just said really fast with lots of Klingon hacking sounds.
Their favourite though was three rounds of 'Spot the most unusual irregularity'; winners were Boob tubes in neon blue, on men. A life-size cardboard Buffy cut out being carried through the park by a guy who could, according to B'Elanna, "Only have lived in the 80's." And finally a neon pink hover-board, which defied all explanation.
Still they managed to waste an hour and a half and by then they figured they could at least head to the lounge for a drink and try to figure out what the link between that and Voyager's message was.
So they had headed back to the lounge, walking slowly through the thinning Sunday traffic, as if both of them realised that this would never come again. The feeling of burning anticipation and utter contentment, the feeling of coming home, and having left a part of you behind, feeling weak and strong, lost and found, confused and certain. When they smiled at each other, no words could be used for they would inexcusably contract and limit the moment. It was bliss. It was agony.
They stopped briefly at two partially hidden stores off a small side street, first to pick up supplies, then to barter B'Elanna's com badge and gold pips for money, bundling her now bare uniform into a leather knapsack, but only after B'Elanna had surreptitiously slipped on the thin grey top under her other clothes.
As they resumed their course towards the card lounge, Seven at last asked the question both of them had been agonising over. Stopping B'Elanna before she could turn the corner and come in view of the club, Seven smoothed her long black suede jacket, before nervously stuffing her hand in her pockets, a completely unfamiliar gesture to both doer and viewer.
"B'Elanna" she asked, "What is happening between us?"
"I don't know" replied B'Elanna thoughtfully, scuffing the toe of her black ankle boots on the ground, and watching as they caught the edge of a puddle and splashed onto the bottom of her khaki trousers, darkening them almost to the coal black of her hooded top. "It's that this isn't real." B'Elanna finally said, "But nothing's ever been more real, at least not between us. Maybe we're seeing too much?" B'Elanna provided Seven with a way out, and a chance to confirm her own fears of inadequacy. There was no reply, seconds crawled by, and then shattering the cold, Seven smiled at her, a secretive half smile, and turned and walked towards the club. B'Elanna followed.
The lounge was dimly lit, casting gloomy shadows across the empty booths even though the sun shone bright outside. The lounge was almost deserted, there was a drunk propping up the bar, a worn brown suit marked his less than well off state, his sweaty red face portrayed his already advanced state of intoxication and he leered at Seven blatantly when she entered. Apart from him there was a waitress, bottle-blonde with a half-open white shirt and a practically invisible black skirt and a surly bartender. He was sporting a five o'clock shadow and red rimmed eyes that suggested he'd had a heavy night. His shirt was crumpled and un-tucked, his movements sluggish and laboured as he fixed the requested drinks for B'Elanna and Seven.
By 6pm it was another world. The room was now bustling, men in suits, women in cocktail dresses mingled while sipping cocktails, numerous waiters and waitresses ran around with plates of food, steaks, salads, chocolate desserts piled high with cream. The room was deafening with the ambient noise, though carefully arranged acoustics allowed the scantily clad lounge singer to display her assets to the room properly.
Through all of the B'Elanna and Seven sat unobtrusively, tucked away in a corner booth, they talked and 'grazed', drank and lingered over conversation. Their eyes however were not still, darting about the room watching for ...
"Jerry" whispered Seven, nodding slightly to her right, "He's just come in and is standing over by the bar."
"What's the plan then?" asked B'Elanna, wiping her mouth clean of chilli sauce and tensing as if to leap out of the chair and attack him.
Seven noticed the shift of her muscles and frowned slightly, wordlessly asking and ordering B'Elanna not to jump into the situation headfirst. "We drink with them" she said, sorting through her purse looking for money to pay the bill, "Then, I play cards with him, and you stay out of trouble!"
B'Elanna pulled a couple of crumpled notes out of her pocket and slapped them on the table, "Sounds like a plan" she smirked, "Except I'm not that good at staying out of trouble"
Seven smiled tolerantly, "Try"
An hour later and Seven was convinced of two things, one she was very glad they had both spent the last of their original supply of money on buying cocktail dresses and two, it wasn't B'Elanna that had to watch her temper it was her.
B'Elanna flirted like an expert, the batting eyes, the casual touches, the exuberant laughter making her audience putty in her hands. It was Seven who was most uneasy, she hated the lustful anonymous glances, the sweaty palms and bad breath, and it was all she could do to keep from hurting one of them.
Still she persevered and over a number of drinks (Seven was careful to sip and then discard as soon as possible) they learnt what they needed to. There were three guys at the bar, all of whom wished to play cards later for 'high stakes'; the first was Jerry, owner of the lounge.
Jerry was about 50, he was bald with a carefully positioned comb-over and a thick black moustache that looked like it was trying to take over his face. He wore a carefully pressed charcoal grey suit, and a simple gold watch, understating his wealth in a very appealing manner. He laughed often, and loudly, particularly at Seven's dry humour. Though he may have found her attractive, he kept his hands to himself. It was hard to imagine that this dignified, refined gentleman might be capable of acting in anything other than a civil manner. Still Seven suspected that much of his wealth didn't come from solely legitimate means, or people.
Standing next to him was the man nicknamed 'Domino' he however made no effort to disguise his massive inherited wealth, or restrain his wandering hands, they were everywhere, skittering up Seven's bare arms, wrapping around B'Elanna's shoulders, constantly pushing into their personal space. His expensive aftershave mixed with the smell of the whiskey he drank, and hung heavily in the air around them.
Domino was 32, or so he declared loudly along with the comment that he was "Young enough to have fun and old enough to know exactly what he was doing" with an accompanying leer. His thick brown hair hung down to his shoulders, atypical for the age, he was clean shaven and his unmarred features looked almost innocent, until he smiled, for that exaggerated motion looked much like a shark exposing its teeth before the kill. His black tailored suit was handmade as was the velvet red shirt he wore. B'Elanna wasn't sure what was more nauseous, his bragging, his constant shouting in a loud booming voice to anyone that walked passed, or the comment that his "pretty clueless little wife" was waiting at home. It was the leers, B'Elanna decided eventually, mainly because she was subjected to most of them.
In complete contrast as if that wasn't a universal necessity, was Bran Bonnington, he introduced himself quietly and then stayed towards the edge of the conversation, listening, observing, he spoke rarely, Seven found him tedious, B'Elanna however realised the sharp mind that hovered just beneath the circle of conversation. Taking the time to talk to him (and to try to hide from Domino) she discovered that Bran was a banker, 40, widowed, with short cut blonde hair and nails that were neatly trimmed and manicured. His wife had died in a car accident eight years ago, and his voice caught every once in a while when he said her name. The lack of a woman in his life showed in his clothing choices, a dowdy cut brown suit that did little to flatter his slight frame.
The evening passed swiftly in a cloud of cigar smoke, and posturing conversation, until at last Domino declared loudly, "I'm tired of all this waiting, show us to the game Jerry!" B'Elanna was invited as "my lucky prize" she rolled her eyes and edged away from Domino.
Seven on the other hand took a direct method, striding into the room, sitting at the semi-circled oak card table and picking the cards straight out of the dealers hands and shuffling them one handed with such speed no-one's eyes could follow. When they all stopped gaping she was invited to play, with a new deck of cards of course.
After the players were seated they were each presented with a pile of chips, each player having paid $5000 at the bar (Seven had done so when she and B'Elanna had first walked in, and just neglected to mention it to anyone). B'Elanna had grinned widely at that.
"Always thinking ahead huh?" she whispered into Seven's ear as she returned from the bathroom and took the seat next to her, and as far away from Domino as possible.
Seven smiled demurely, "Let us hope we can get what we came for?"
B'Elanna took a moment to think about that, "What are we here for?" she asked, Seven having remained cryptic on the meaning of Voyager's note.
"Those" said Seven, as the dealer laid the chips in front of them, each plastic circle adorned with an imprint of a nanoprobe.
"Oh" said B'Elanna quietly.
"Trust me Harry it I'll work" Tom looked up from where he was kneeling, into the disbelieving eyes of his best friend, "Does anyone know more about holodecks than me?" He asked grinning charmingly.
"Yes. ME, that's why you needed MY help Mr Paris." The Doctor looked disparagingly at the helmsman, "This might have been you're idea but it was my extensive understanding of holographic technology that allowed the modifications to be made."
Harry rolled his eyes; they had been at this for almost an hour. He had been working quietly in the holodeck, checking and rechecking to see if there was any indication whether or not the message he'd sent had got through when in a whirlwind Tom and the Doctor had swept in arguing loudly. They proceeded to tear the control panel apart scattering tools everywhere from his meticulously organised toolbox and at last declaring their success had both stood and revealed a box with a small pixel screen attached into the holodeck imaging circuitry. Harry prayed nothing had been broken.
"What is it?" he asked as Tom and The Doctor continued to grin inanely at him.
"It's a TV of course," they said, in almost perfect concert.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"A TV" Kathryn sat behind her desk in the now less cluttered ready room, having showered, changed and cleaned, if not slept. She tilted her head to the side slightly and continued to look slightly puzzled as the three men in front of her exchanged glares over who would get to break the news.
"Tom" Kathryn got bored, "What TV? What is a TV?" she asked, calmly.
It's a 20th Century invention Captain" Tom explained, as Kathryn rolled her eyes in understanding, "Its designed to show recreational or factual 'programmes' kind of a caveman version of a holodeck"
"But with electricity" pointed out Harry.
The Doctor cut in, determined to get a piece of the limelight. "My extensive holographic knowledge allowed Mr Paris to integrate his toy into the holodeck system," he explained.
"So we can see them." Jumped in Tom before the Doctor could finish. "The TV is receiving images from the holodeck, so we can look on at B'Elanna and Seven to see how they're doing, we might even be able to send them a better message then."
Kathryn grinned wildly at the prospect, ignoring the crack about the cryptic message she had sent. "When can you have it ready?" she asked.
"Its ready now" Tom grinned in anticipation, "Want to come see the premiere show?"
"Of course, good work gentlemen" Kathryn rushed from the room, a little to fast to still be considered dignified, the others scrambling after her.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing Seven?"
They had been playing for around an hour now and B'Elanna had in turn been both amazed and concerned by Seven's playing style. It was so bold, decisive though not reckless - uncompromising and even a little hardheaded, she didn't let go, she played each hand as if it was the last with gritted determination and profound concentration.
What concerned B'Elanna was not the passion with which Seven played - but the fact she was loosing, hand after hand that should have gone her way, was beaten, her bluffs, while inscrutable to the watching audience, were still called and now almost all the money had gone.
B'Elanna remembered then, with a sudden shocking clarity that just three days ago she had accused Seven of cheating at cards. She wandered if her assumption about her friend's lack of skill in cards was justified - even if her personality assassination was grossly unwarranted.
Seven was beginning to feel the strain, her face had become harder set, her grip on the cards was now vicious, almost curling them as she directed all her subconscious attention to not sweating - they were almost lost. Without this hand this game they could conceivably be stuck here for months - Kathryn's message in itself had revealed that the solution had to come from within the program.
Seven looked over her shoulder at the worried face of the Klingon, she tried to smile re-assuringly but somehow it just looked watery.
"Perhaps we should take a break" whispered B'Elanna surreptitiously into Seven's delicate coral ear - noting the slight shudder that ran through the ex-Borg's frame as her hot breath dusted over the delicate coral curve.
"Under what pretence?" whispered Seven in return, this time it was B'Elanna who shivered as Seven turned her face towards B'Elanna's neck, her breath caressing the slender tendons with aching gentleness.
"Huh look at the floor show!" Boomed Domino. Seven and B'Elanna looked up guiltily realising the intimacy of the scene playing out (Seven idly realised that intimate was a word she had used a lot in the last few days, particularly in reference to B'Elanna)
"Well boys" purred B'Elanna, "We can't give everything away before the finale." She ran her hand up Seven's arm and brushed the long blonde hair of her neck, bending down she paused with her lips just millimetres from the pale skin and tilted her face slightly towards Domino, "Perhaps you need to cool down?" she suggested.
"Indeed" said Jerry decisively - "An effective distraction my dear" he remarked dipping his head at B'Elanna and Seven, "I believe we should adjourn for five minutes until cooler heads and bodies prevail." With a smirk he rose and led the other two players out to the bar.
B'Elanna moved to take the seat next to Seven, but she grabbed the Klingon, using her strength to pull the unresisting form onto her lap. B'Elanna found herself straddling Seven's leg, her high heels just brushing the floor as Seven lifted her leg up slightly, resting it on the bar at the base of the chair, using the angle to allow B'Elanna to slide even closer too her. The tension between them was electric.
"Seven" breathed B'Elanna her face flushed, breathing heavily, "What about…" she trailed off unwilling to break the moment and deny herself this chance.
Seven reached forward and seized her mouth. Gentle lips playing against each other and silken tongues, molten heat and their hands roamed. Seven's long fingers entwined in B'Elanna's hair, forcing her head back so she could bend to kiss the elegant neck presented to her. Drawing the tender flesh into her mouth Seven sucked the delicate skin hard enough to leave a mark, driving B'Elanna mad…
The Klingon's hands gripped onto slender hips and without conscious thought she began to rock slightly - the passion overwhelming any control she had left. A strong hand sneaked under the hem of Seven's dress and this time it was the Borg who threw her head back in rapture, sliding her own hands down to rub B'Elanna's breasts as caramel fingers slipped closer to their goal…
Seven cried out, lost to all propriety, driven by instinct, and clouded by memory…"Kathryn" she breathed as the Klingon's mouth engulfed her earlobe sending a flood lower, "Oh Kathryn please..." Seven's voice cracked and B'Elanna's eyes shot open. The moment was broken.
"Seven" B'Elanna scrambled off the Borg - panting from desire - staring at her in a mixture of passion and horror, regret and fear.
"I'm sorry she stammered, I'm so-o sorry Seven, I…"
Seven rose up, ruffled and unsure - but reacting to the pain in her friend's voice.
"B'Elanna" she whispered, reaching to encircle the shaking engineer, "Shh, I am sorry too, you were so beautiful, you are so beautiful" Seven's voice was sincere, her touch gentle as she looked into watery brown eyes, struggling to calm herself enough to verbalise the emotions flowing through her.
"But your heart is Kathryn's" whispered B'Elanna brokenly.
Seven paused, knowing what a decision this was, her lover, her partner, her confidante was a lifetime away, her friend, her equal, her passionate and cherished companion stood offering her heart. How could she feel so much for a woman she had claimed to hate three days ago?
That was the key Seven realised she had never hated B'Elanna,
"I'm scared," whispered the fragile blonde
"Of what" asked B'Elanna locking onto eyes burning with blue fire?
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Huh?" Asked Tom as the picture faded in and he, Harry and the Doctor and Janeway took in the tender scene being played out in the card room.
Kathryn's face looked very pale - the Doctor who noticed was however wise enough not to comment. Tom's ears were going red.
"What are they doing he hissed?"
In hope, and fear Harry made a suggestion, "Listen"
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Of what?" repeated B'Elanna as Seven hesitated, trying to organise her thoughts - unaware that this choice was being watched by the two people out there who would have most to loose…
"That, that I am no longer the same" whispered Seven, tears threatening to roll from her eyes too, "That I have found what I was scared of - loosing myself, my control of the situation, of my life, of my loves. I am scared I can't go back to the world I left."
If B'Elanna doubted what she must do next - it was inevitable, but still she didn't hesitate, both for her friend and her honour and for the little voice inside her that whispered she could never trust a choice made here - so far from the real world.
"We can sort this out later." Said the Klingon - knowing in her heart that this might be her only chance, even if it was a falsely conceived one.
Seven knew it too, and also everything she would loose
She grinned ruefully, "I think, I think too much right now…"
"How do we win the game then Seven?" asked B'Elanna, focusing the conversation back on the necessities - pushing the memory of the blonde's lips and touch too the back of her mind.
"With love?" joked Seven - "It is meant to be the answer"
"Yeah and diamond's are a girl's best friend" chipped in B'Elanna, recalling the old adage from a movie she and Tom had watched.
"DIAMONDS" exclaimed Seven, hugging B'Elanna exuberantly, "That's the answer." Picking B'Elanna off her feet she swung the engineer around, as she emitted a startled squawk. Seven set her down, afraid she might have hurt B'Elanna, running her hand down the Klingon's sides and loosening her hold a little.
For a moment B'Elanna looked confused (and a little distracted), then a smile split her face, "The girl in the hospital" she exclaimed, "And the waitress!!!"
Seven smiled in memory - "I won every hand I played with Tom and Harry and the Doctor when I had diamonds"
"You did ch…" exclaimed B'Elanna, then stopped herself, "But you wouldn't would you?"
Seven smiled and wrapped her arms back around the Klingon, the obvious delight at B'Elanna's trust in her lighting up her features with joy.
"Let's go home," she whispered.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"God damn blasted technology" yelled Tom, banging the TV set as the picture started to go fuzzy.
"Its very delicate Mr Paris" snapped the Doctor, "you'll…" he trailed off as the picture disappeared into a little bright spot, then the screen went black,"…break it."
Kathryn gritted her teeth, her finger nails digging into her palms, wondering both what had happened before the screen came on, and what was now happening as it had gone off.
To be continued....