Le Mur was a dimly lit place, more quaint than divey, but small and out of the way. It used to be that A.D.A. Rafael Barba would only come here when Forlini's was overcrowded, or after a particularly draining (or publicized) case didn't result in a guilty verdict. However, he found himself coming here more and more. It was a quiet place, with bartenders that weren't different faces every time he went, and good wine that wasn't overpriced: the benefits of a place that was so…distant from Manhattan's spectacles. How this bar stayed open, he had no idea. Each time he came, there were always seven people at the very most.

It seemed like this was a place for regulars. He always sat at the bar and never really bothered to get a good look at other patrons until one night a gentleman took a seat a few stools down. At first all he noticed was the platinum blond hair and the business casual attire. They weren't three-piece suits up to Barba's standards, but he wasn't judging. Just evaluating. And he did so more each time he came by; he always brought a laptop and worked on it. Typed at 80 -90 words per minute, judging by the rapid fire tapping of the keyboard. Would speak to the bartender in French from time to time. Ordered one of three drinks: a pint of some IPA, an old fashioned, or a shot of Chartreuse on ice. Typically, he'd start with beer, then he'd choose between the harder of the three.

On this night, the pattern changed. Barba was already sitting at the bar in his usual spot. He became accustomed to the sound of the door opening- the sliding of the door sweep against the hardwood, the light jingle of small bells that hung from the doorknob. He knew it'd be him, and right he was. He was wrong, however, to expect him to take his normal seat…or to order beer first. He acted like it was no big deal to take the seat right next to Barba.

« Puis-je avoir une verre de…de ce qu'il a ? »

« C'est 'whiskey sour'…c'est similaire d'old fashioned.' »

That sentence- that he understood. Barba suddenly felt self-conscious for the first time in…god knows how long. He wasn't very good with French anymore. Use it or lose it, as they say. He wasn't exactly focused on their dialogue anymore until, for the first time in all his nights spent here, the man addressed him.

"You come here quite often, but I've never introduced myself," he sounded much, much younger in English; his voice was just a bit shaky. Perhaps that's why he was starting with whiskey. "Asa Comtois," he extended his hand for a shake. "It's nice to finally…talk."

Rafael accepted the hand cordially. "Rafael Barba. I suppose it was inevitable that we speak sooner or later." He earned a small smile from the other man.

"Yes. I've never quite had the time to do anything other than work while I've been here. I'm a translator…you?"

"I'm a lawyer," he offered. It was true. Anything with more detail would be frivolous or invite more questions…maybe scorn. He didn't need it. He was just a lawyer right now. A bad one, at that. It was nice to be in a place without a TV, god knows Buchanan's victory laps would be on every channel. He wondered if his omission was a point of hubris. The extra whiskey sour was placed next to the man, and he wasted no time taking a rather impressive sip.

"You must be a good one to have such refined taste," he smirked, gesturing lazily to Rafael's outfit. Rafael responded with a beat of silence; he didn't know how to respond, but fortunately he didn't have to. Asa quickly followed up, "What type of law do you practice?"

Good lord, he sounded like a nervous college student. "That's a loaded question, I'm afraid. You mentioned you're a translator: in what capacity would that be?" Dial it back. He's not testifying to anything except his inability to watch the news.

"It's a little complicated," he smiled, looking down at the drink in his hands. "I'm a literary translator right now but I'm currently undergoing certification to be a judicial interpreter in French and Chinese."

"Sounds like you're up for competition. Spanish, French, and Chinese are the most competitive positions in Manhattan. Do you have any background in law?"

"Most of my work before has been in translating select federal and state laws of this country into French, and some Chinese, for academic use. I think I'm well-read enough. I finished my written and oral exams, so now I have to wait for my formal certification to go through…but I know I did well."

Yes, along with the hundreds of other. "What kind of educational background do you have?"

Asa chuckled and downed the remainder of his drink. "I wasn't expecting an interview, Mr. Barba."

"Then what were you expecting?"

Asa dropped his gaze and looked away, focusing on the bartender taking his glass. After a beat of silence, Rafael was starting to regret his word choice. Typically, he was deflective, but this time he wanted to humor whatever…this was. Here was someone just being hospitable and open, just looking for conversation. It felt like they've known each other for so long, given each night they both found each other taking a seat at the bar. Seemed like a natural progression…but Rafael was never very good at making friends nowadays.

"You can call me Rafael."

Asa looked back at him and offered a small smile and slight nod. Barba tried to read him from a side-eye, but all he could see was a bit of pensiveness.

"…Can I buy you a drink?" Asa asked.

"I'll have what you'll have."

If Asa stuck with whatever he usually ordered sans beer, there'd be no problem. Rafael appreciated an occasional old fashioned or Chartreuse. The blond broke pattern again by ordering one of Barba's other go-to drinks: scotch on the rocks.

"How did you guess?" he asked facetiously.

"I've seen you order it a couple of times."

"Do you know every regulars' orders?"

"No," he chuckled, sounding just a bit embarrassed. Definitely not a casanova. The bartender had wasted no time and set them both down in front of the men. Asa opened his mouth to say something, shut it again, opened again, shut, before finally speaking. "…Just the orders of handsome regulars that sit at the bar every time I'm here."

Barba blanked for a minute. Maybe it was because he was having two drinks for dinner, or maybe it was because he hadn't been flirted with in quite some time…except by drunken, boisterous nobodies at Forlini's, or the occasional wink from a juror. He looked back on all these encounters bitterly, but this was different. It wasn't annoying, at least. Not in a dark, unbearably loud restaurant. The blond also didn't seem to know who Rafael was, which he considered a bit odd for someone who was looking to work law-adjacent in Manhattan. Rafael was skeptical, but not hindered.

"Then how about chartreuse next?" Barba offered, sipping steadily on his scotch.

"That- that sounds very nice, Raphael," Asa couldn't hide the smile on his face. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Yes. Perhaps I should enjoy it more often."

"It is a bit expensive, but I like to order it whenever I'm finishing up a particularly long assignment. I was translating Georgia v. Randolph, 2006. I had to provide a bit of context for it and detail the history, so…that means also translating United States v. Matlock, all the context with that, and…there's a lot to it. But I finished it this evening before I came here and now I have time to celebrate," he said, clinking his glass to Barba's.

"Congratulations. Do you translate all supreme court rulings?"

"Just what's commissioned. I studied in Lyon and Grenoble, and after I left I was able to get some contracts from them. I'm fast and easy to work with, so that's what I've been up to…until I started getting interested in law in a professional capacity."

Before Rafael could respond, his phone vibrated. He excused himself to check and found a text waiting from Olivia. He loved Olivia, she was his dearest friend, but he was not in the mood to be thrusted back into his everyday reality, not now. The conversation he was having with Asa felt suspended from the rapists, the pedophiles, the pimps…it was nice. Quiet. One-on-one. Innocent and respectfully flippant, with the other few patrons in the bar involved in their own conversation, and the bartender either on his phone or cleaning shelves. Nobody was watching him or listening to him; he was just a person having drinks with an attractive young man who thought the same of him.

"If I'm distracting you, I apologize..."

"No, it's just business," Barba sighed, placing his phone back into his pocket, "after hours. Would you like a shot of chartreuse with ice, Asa?"

"With ice? Do you know every regulars' orders, Rafael?"

"No," he answered before hailing the bartender and ordering half with his words and half with his fingers. "Just the orders of handsome regulars that sit at the bar," he parried.

Asa couldn't help but laugh, and a bit loudly at that. Perhaps the chartreuse would be the last drink of the night- Rafael knew it'd be best to cut it off after this one anyway if he planned on not being incapacitated in the morning. At any rate, Barba was still alarmed at how quick he was to take the tone of conversation and run with it. Maybe it was time to indulge in some recreational romance; it'd been a few years since the last time he bothered with anything resembling intimacy. If he kept letting the alcohol speak for him, perhaps that'd change.

"Are you okay?" Asa asked, leaning in just a tad as a gesture of privacy.

"Yes. I had a particularly rough trial today and I'm trying to forget about it, to be quite honest. You want a bitch of a ruling, look at Salinas v. Texas," he muttered, knocking back a sip. Asa gave pause for a moment.

"I'm sorry to hear that about the trial…but I'm sure I could help you forget should you want help," he said, voice descending to a whisper with each word. When Barba could finally parse together what Asa was saying, he felt the other man's knee rub lightly against his thigh, and he realized there was something on the table to be had right now.

"Then, perhaps…" Tread carefully. "Perhaps we should finish our drinks. I'll settle the tabs if you'd call the cab."

"No, no, no, I'll take care of this." Asa laughed, whipping out his wallet. He hailed the bartender over and spoke in rapid fire French that started to sound like white noise in Barba's head.

He scheduled a pickup at the bar in ten minutes. Ten minutes. He still had condoms and lube at home in one of the drawers of his bureau. His cleaning lady came by a few days ago, so it was still presentable aside from his home office. He'd have to clean out his refrigerator at some point. He hadn't used the kitchen since it was last cleaned, so it may be good to use tomorrow morning. He made his bed this morning, however haphazardly. There were a few suits that were set to go to dry cleaning hanging over the couch, but they wouldn't be spending too much time in the living room. He still had the option to back out. He didn't want to, but maybe it'd be better if he did. Better for who?

"How long until the cab comes?"

"Eight minutes. Plenty of time to finish up here."

"Way ahead of you," Asa chortled, pushing his empty glass towards the center of the bar. He leaned in a bit more, incrementally dismantling Barba's confidence. "Your place or mine?"

"Mine, if you don't mind," Barba spoke into his glass.

"I wouldn't mind that at all…ah, unless you don't want me to stay the night. In that case, my place would be better."

"I won't force you out through upper east at an ungodly hour in the morning. I have a bit more courtesy than that, Asa."

Asa smiled, quite drunkenly, and stood. Rafael offered a hand to quell his swaying. "You're so noble. Let me run to the restroom first," he said, voice still carried by quiet, breathy laughs all the way to the back of the bar.

Asa was beyond nervous. This had been his first time going home with someone since moving to Manhattan. A stranger, no less. To his place. He whipped his phone out and texted his sister. She was thousands of miles away, sure, but it was good to notify someone. Just in case. Maybe if she knew where he was, who he was going with, what time it was here… Stop it. You're going to get plowed and go home alive tomorrow morning. He splashed his face with cold water and rubbed his eyes to provide some sense of sobriety. It didn't work. When he stepped out of the bathroom, Barba was standing at the bar and putting his blazer on. Asa made his way back to the bar, resolute.

"She's waiting outside, if you're ready," Barba said.

"She…?"

"The driver."

Asa nodded wordlessly and followed Rafael outside. He sent a nod to the bartender before the door closed behind him and he was reminded of how cold it was outside. It was only October but the wind was unforgiving, and the post-rain humidity was bone-chill cold.

He found a bit of his confidence again in pressing himself against Barba for warmth once they took their seats in the back. Past the basic pleasantries with the driver and her low volume pop music, the ride was silent. Asa took his intimate proximity a step further and slipped his hand onto Barba's thigh. Adding fuel to fire, Barba reciprocated in kind, slipping his hand just a bit further along the younger man's thigh and stroking the inner side with his thumb. Asa straightened up a bit but gave no indication that he was paying attention to the gesture…aside from the poorly restrained smile dancing on his lips.

At the same time, Barba was trying to focus on the fact that this was a normal thing that many men his age were apt to do. He'd been to benefit galas, yacht parties, luxury excursions with people who either wanted his favor or had favor he wanted; this was normal for them…not for him, but he didn't exactly hold himself to a personal standard of ethics. Today was rough. He earned an affair. He let his body relax under the hand on his thigh. Only minutes later were they dropped off at his building.

Just walking through the lobby, Asa suspected there may have been some truth to his 'date' being a state prosecutor. There were multiple guards in the lobby. Not ESU, but they looked more adept than your average mall cop. Asa kept his head down until they entered the elevator.

"Do you always have such well-equipped guards?"

"This building sees high profile tenants that demand extra security."

Asa nodded in response, but his body moved beyond his control after that. He turned to him, taking that suited figure in, the curve of his ass in those slacks- black? Intense navy? It went marvelously with his tawny skin. He glanced up to take in the lips, but instead overshot to meet Raphael's gaze. In a moment of drunken impatience, Asa leaned in and kissed him, arm trailing up to cup one side of his face. He had no time or inclination to pull away because Rafael was holding his arms and kissing him back with only a millisecond on the clock before the doors opened.

They walked quickly. The door was unlocked within seconds of coming in sight of it and behind them, the door locked again.

Rafael had not had sex with a man in a long time. It was different with men: it was closer, involved feeling less breath on skin and more skin on skin: more intimate. He had missed the feeling of a hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer into some sloppy high school tier liplock. The closeness. Asa held onto him, didn't let a space separate their bodies, kept one hand on Barba's neck and the other holding his waist, and Barba gripped his hips in response. Women liked to look at their partners, but men liked to feel them, and Asa adored how the other man's body felt.

So much so that he couldn't bare to have it covered in layers of clothes. He pushed off the man's blazer and worked on the buttons of his waistcoat with fevered desperation. Once more confident with trusting his hands to work the buttons of the vest and the shirt underneath, he nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder and neck, smattering drunken kisses down to the clavicle and up to behind his ear before pulling back to focus on Barba's tie. The older man untucked Asa's tie from his sweater, unknotted it, and slipped it off along with his onto the floor, now accompanied by his shirt, vest, and blazer. Asa pulled his sweater and shirt over and off, giving Rafael and good look at the lithe, finely toned body before him.

Asa took his time running his hands up and down Rafael's chest, gentle and slow, hypnotized by the pepper chest hair that trailed down beneath the waist of his slacks. He attacked his neck once more, following an invisible route down to his right nipple, tickling it with his tongue, teasing it with his teeth, just enough to make the man sigh contentedly.

"The bedroom is this way," Rafael said, gently pulling Asa's head back up by the hair and leading him towards the room.

Asa turned his partner around in front of the foot of the bed, lowering himself to his knees, eyes locked, kissing all the way down his stomach and undoing the belt and button of Rafael's pants. He ran his fingertips along the 'v' of Rafael's hips and hummed contentedly; the sight was enough to make his cock twitch in his pants. His kisses dragged down further, along the concentration of hair above his rapidly hardening prick, breathing in the mesmerizing musk. Asa moaned softly and coupled it with a gentle kiss to his balls, much to Rafael's satisfaction.

"I love your body, chéri…you smell amazing," he muttered between kisses. Barba sighed. His hands found Asa's hair again and gently pressed him against his abdomen, relishing in the heat building up from the wet trail of kisses. Asa tugged the offending clothes all the way off and laughed loudly.

"What is it?"

"You have sock suspenders!"

"…Yes? You're hooking up with a 45 year old man, Asa," Barba said with an unimpressed tone, kicking his remaining clothes out of the way.

"No, I- I think it's sexy. I like older men."

It was Barba's turn to laugh aloud (at the audacity more than anything), but it turned into a choked moan when Asa ran his tongue flush up the underside of his dick. He kissed and lapped at the tip until he could taste the precum, feel it leaking onto his tongue, letting it drip onto his lips, his chin. It was relentless, he was still staring back up at Rafael- slapping his cock against his lips now- fuck, he's obscene.

"How long have you wanted my cock in your mouth, Asa?" he asked, oh so conversationally, despite his breathlessness.

"About as long as I've wanted you to fuck me, chéri," Asa grinned up at him before taking Barba's entire length, deep into his throat.

Rafael's mouth dropped in a silent moan, which may have not been so silent since Asa reacted by pushing him down onto the bed. He climbed after him and smothered the junction between cock and thigh with kisses, inhaling deeply, gently sucking on his sack, running his hands up and down Rafael's chest and stomach. His stomach wasn't the first thing Rafael would consider to be an attractive feature of his (he wasn't exactly toned, but oh well) so as surprising as the affectionate touching and attention was, it was pleasing in a way that went straight to his groin.

Asa worshipped his cock, trailing his tongue along that strong vein, lapping the precum from that pretty little slit, then he finally took him in his mouth again and set an unrelenting pace, meeting a twisting hand with every bob of his head. Rafael brushed the blond hair from his forehead and took in the delicious sight of the young man so rapt, an impeccable rouge blush spreading from his cheeks to his shoulders. The frumpy sweaters the man typically wore to the bar had led much to the imagination. He hadn't been expecting such a pretty body: Asa was a slim but toned thing, pale when he wasn't blushing, and the faintest freckles dusted his shoulders.

Asa pulled off him with a slick pop and climbed upward to capture Rafael's mouth again with ferocity and selfishness, but his hands glided along the older man's sides with the lightest touches, then caressing his pecs with a primal kind of adoration, the kind that made people covet people instead of things.

"Are you- would you- I, um, I'm a bottom," he said after a brief pause, taking a second to catch his breath.

"Believe it or not Asa, it's not hard to tell," he smirked, emphasizing his words with a slap to Asa's ass and a firm grip.

The younger man responded by setting a slow, hard grind, giving Rafael a feel of just how hard Asa was. The blond's hands went to his belt, but Barba grabbed his wrists and bucked him off and onto the mattress. It was the older man's turn to take the initiative. He worked the belt and pants open, sliding them down and onto the floor. Asa's cock strained against the remaining cloth, now sporting a wet spot that made Rafael drool and tear the briefs off. Asa's cock was near purple from arousal and shining with smeared precum, and while Rafael wanted to give him a taste of his own teasing, he had something else in mind.

"Touch yourself for me, cariño," he ordered, retrieving his lube and condoms.

"I'll finish before you have the chance to, chéri, but we have all night…as long as you can keep up," he snorted, biting his lip for added 'I'm totally joking please don't throw me out' effect.

Rafael raised his eyebrows at him and made his way over and throw a leg over his shoulder. He flicked the bottle open; the feeling of cold, slick lube running down his hole made Asa shiver and speed up the pace of his hand. Rafael focused on a single finger massaging the rim, lightly pressing down, slipping inside to the knuckle. Once he reached a rhythm, he watched Asa's face to revel in how unraveled he had become with a curl of his finger.

"Please, please Rafael, just fuck me already, I'm getting close."

"You're still tight, I'll need to work you open…you can handle a bit more, I'm sure."

Asa's face was turning a beautiful shade of red, and more beautiful than that were those noises that spilled from his lips- the gasping and whimpering with each brush of his prostate. A second finger joined in the ministrations. Asa started pushing back, his thighs shaking, gasps and moans coming together, louder, until he seized up, eyes shut and mouth open.

"Ooh my god, Rafael I'm cumming-" he finally choked out a groan as white spatter settled on his stomach and chest. Rafael leaned upward and peppered small kisses on Asa's sweat dampened brow, keeping his fingers in the tight heat but still.

"Would you like to stop, cariño?" he murmured into his ear.

Asa took a minute to quell his panting before swallowing hard and shaking his head.

"Are you sure?"

"If you keep calling me pet names, we'll never be done, Rafael…and I still want you to fuck me."

Rafael scoffed humorously and backed up a bit more, resuming the pace of his fingers and giving some gentle attention to the softened dick lying against Asa's stomach. His body twitched with stimulation, but deep breaths brought him back down and let him enjoy the touches once more.

"Rafael," he began, tapping onto the man's shoulders, "bring that dick up here."

The older man rolled his eyes. He was starting to feel his age in his knees as he swept a leg over Asa and backed up until he could feel warm lips wrap around the head and- again with the surprise deepthroat. He groaned, low and rough, and set a punishing pace of his fingers to match the vigorous speed Asa was taking, licking along the veins, dragging his tongue from his balls back to the tip before going down again. Rafael pushed another finger inside and worked him open, using his other hand on Asa's rapidly hardening dick. God knows if Asa kept it up with his tongue, he wouldn't be able to last long, so he decided to keep his fingers pressed down and rubbed that special spot until Asa couldn't focus on attending to Rafael's aching dick. Confident in his work, he pulled himself out, off, and climbed off the bed, grabbing Asa's legs and pulling him to the edge.

"I- uh, be…gentle," Asa said, "It's been a while for me."

Rafael leaned forward and kissed him gently, maybe a bit more affectionate than was typical for a one-night stand with a stranger, but 'it's been a while' applied to him as well. With a lot of things. There was something quite endearing about this young man- throwing himself at him one moment and demure the next…despite the age comments. He lined himself up with his hole and, before pushing in, offered another kiss to Asa's temple.

"Let me know the moment you want to stop, Asa," he murmured, rocking just a bit forward, centimeters further at a time. Suddenly the man underneath him lifted his hips off the bed and pushed himself against Rafael.

"I know I said be gentle but fuck I really need you, please," he groaned.

The look of wanton lust on Asa's face, those hooded lids and slightly parted lips- it wrenched a groan from deep inside Rafael's chest. He had only glanced down to watch him slip inside further for a second, but when he looked back up, Asa had a sloppy smile on his face.

"You like it when I beg, yeah?" he chuckled. Asa sure liked the effect it had on Mr. Lawyer, at least.

"Keep it up and you'll find out," he said, pushing in with a bit more force.

Once he bottomed out, Rafael was finally able to release the breath he was holding. Asa didn't offer a second of respite and was rocking onto him again. Rafael's hands gripped at Asa's hips and pressed them firm into the mattress, effectively pinning him. He straightened up, pulled back enough to make Asa whine, and jerked his hips forward hard enough to make him curse.

"Oh my god," he gasped, "Rafael, please…"

"What was that?"

Rafael picked up the pace, but not enough to satiate either of them; just enough to get Asa to speak up. Just enough to make him earn it.

"Are you hard of hearing as well, chéri?"

Okay. Asa wanted it harder. Rafael could do harder. He pulled out without warning and spun Asa onto his stomach, gripping his hips and pulling his ass up to meet him. He wasted no time filling Asa's hole, roughly massaging the meat of his ass, supplying a light slap to let Asa know that he was going to get what he wanted. Rafael set a cruel rhythm and laid into him.

Asa was seeing stars, hands reaching out for anything to hold onto- the unforgiving pace and the power behind each thrust was so intensely overwhelming, noises spilled from him that he had no control over. Every 'yes' and 'please' and expletive being sharply interrupted by the slap of sweaty skin on skin. His English started rolling into French, and oh god, Rafael wasn't relenting. Asa hoped he was okay with stained sheets; precum dripped from his twitching cock with each slam onto his prostate. The friction of the sheets against his dick was going to be the end of it, he was sure, but he wasn't teetering off the brink. He was there, now limp on the sheets, ready to plummet into white hot pleasure, ready to feel everything and nothing, but no matter how much he tried to relax, he couldn't release the heat, the wound pressure, it was too much- too much-

"P-Please-"

"Speak up, cariño," Rafael panted, accentuating his teasing with another light smack to Asa's ass.

"Please let me cum," he cried, "I- I need it, I can't take this," he managed to choke out.

"Hmm? Not able to keep up?"

"Rafael!"

Rafael had his fun, and he was too close to keep playing games. He folded over Asa, chest-to-back, and grabbed one hand, interlacing their fingers to keep him still beneath the older man. His other hand reached underneath Asa's hips and gripped his aching cock, hot and leaking in his hand. As much as he liked hearing the snarky twink beg, he wanted to push him over the edge more. Rafael's hand picked up the feverish pace of his hips in time with the pace of his hand.

"Oh god," he keened, "oh god, oh Raf-!" he could not hope to say anything more.

Nerves alight and vision swimming, Asa came into Rafael's hand with a long, hoarse sob, dropping onto the mattress to muffle his cries of overstimulation into the pillow. Rafael chased his bliss, pushed over into euphoria by each post-climax clench of Asa's body. A guttural groan escaped his throat, ringing in Asa's ears, the most saccharine sound that would've gotten him up and running again if he wasn't about to pass out.

Rafael took his time pulling out and tiredly caressing the young man laying limp beneath him. He snapped the condom off and tied it to throw away. As much as he wanted to stay in bed, he knew if he did, there'd be no hope of him getting back up again. He trashed the condom and grabbed a dampened cloth from the bathroom, walking back in on Asa rolled on his side, partially propped up on one elbow, and eyes serenely shut. He could barely open them at the sensation of his cum being wiped from his stomach, and barely chuckle at the attempt to wipe off as much cum from the sheets as possible. After it was done and he could feel the added weight to the other side of the bed, he blindly reached out a hand until he could get a feel for Rafael's now languid biceps.

« C'était incroyable, chéri. Tu étais incroyable. »

« De hecho fue, mocoso. »

"Mocoso! I'm sorry, Rafael. I just wanted to light your fires. 45 is not old, chéri, c'est juste ce que j'aime, yeah? Forgive me," he purred, letting his hand stray to play in the hairs adorning Rafael's chest.

"Mm. I have to leave by ten tomorrow morning, so I'm setting an alarm for eight. That should give us both time to shower. Your mouth can make it up to me then," he smirked, propping an arm behind his head. Rafael hadn't brought someone back to his place in a long time. He forgot the fun in it, but Asa has established a delightful precedence.