This is just a short fic that formed while watching the Blackhawks one night. After I think over a month or more of writing in my spare time (getting a Master's doesn't allow for a lot of that), it's finally finished. Hope it's enjoyable!
The first time he saw her he was in the middle of one of his favorite programs: Practice with Sky Crew. Bellamy was going on the seventh year of his professional ice hockey career and as much as he loved it, he was thinking about retiring. The more he helped with the program where a local kids' team got to practice with Arkadia's professional team, the more he thought being a kids' coach would be the best thing ever. Today his favorite, not that he'd ever voice it aloud, was a brown haired, blue eyed boy who got the most intense look of concentration every time he lined up a shot, as if sheer force of will could make the puck land in the goal.
It was nearing the end of the program when he looked to the glass and saw a beautiful blonde making faces, sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes. When she met his eyes across the ice, hers widened considerably as she blushed and smiled shyly at being caught. He flashed her a smile and waved. She lifted her hand in response, still clearly embarrassed. He chuckled to himself as he turned around and skated over to the goal where the kids were taking shots on the team's goalie, Miller.
The program always ended with a group picture of all the kids with the team. After a quick print in the manager's office, copies were handed out so the team could autograph them for the kids. Bellamy had just taken off his skates and was about to join the melee of kids and parents and even just some everyday fans, when the little brown haired boy with the big blue eyes came over, physically pulling none other than the beautiful blonde from earlier behind him.
Figures, he thought to himself. The beautiful women are always married with kids. Though he probably should have made the connection of her making faces at a kid earlier.
"Hi Mr. Blake, um Bellamy, you told us to call you by your first names. Except for Miller, he likes Miller," the boy rambled. "Um, I was wondering if you would please sign my picture." He held out the picture. And the quickly shoved a jersey forward too. "Oh, and this for my mom too. You're her favorite player. I heard her tell Raven you have a great ass."
The mom for her part quickly stepped in, a blush rising on her pale cheeks. "Don't believe a word he says. Okay, I guess you should, you are my favorite player." She tucked her hair behind her ear. And then she startled, remembering something, "And we don't say 'ass,' Charlie. We say, 'butt.'"
"You said, 'ass,'" he pointed out obstinately.
"That's because Raven is a bad influence."
Bellamy chuckled. "I'd be happy to sign both," he told them reaching for the outstretched objects. As soon as he finished with the picture, Charlie grabbed it and ran off toward the other players, leaving Bellamy with the mom. "Do you want me to sign this 'Bellamy with the great ass' or…" he trailed off.
"'Bellamy Blake' is fine," she told him, shaking her head.
He finished signing his name and handed the jersey back to her, noting that it was indeed one of his, a "BLAKE" and "99" filling the back. "Thanks," she took it back from him and stood awkwardly for a second. "I should probably go find Charlie," she added and turned to go.
As she walked away, Bellamy couldn't help but call after her, "You have a great ass yourself!"
He watched her throw her head back and laugh. With a twinkle in her eye, she turned over her shoulder. "Thanks," she chuckled, "I will definitely be telling Raven you said that."
She walked away and Bellamy believed that was the last he was ever going to see of her.
Clarke couldn't believe she let her mom set her up on a blind date. "'He basically breathes hockey, Clarke! You have so much in common!'" Clarke mocked her mother under her breath as she stood outside the locker rooms, waiting for Cage Wallace to return, so she could demand he take her home. She huffed unhappily, "Yeah, right. He's only the owner of the rival of my favorite team. Doesn't know a single fact about actually playing hockey. I'm so mad I let Raven talk me out of wearing my Sky Crew jersey; maybe if I had come to the door in that, he wouldn't have taken me on the date in the first place."
She debated with herself for a second, "Okay, bright side: at least I got to watch my Arkadia boys crush the Mountain Men in person. So that was neat."
She began pacing, checking her watch. She had promised Raven she would be back before midnight; it was 11:30. "Seriously, how long does it take to talk to a team you own? You're not a coach! You don't even know anything about hockey! Fucking hell!"
"Do I have to find Charlie and tell him I heard you say 'fuck?' Because I'm pretty sure that'd be on the list of words we don't say." Clarke turned abruptly at the deep voice that sounded behind her and was faced with none other than Bellamy Blake.
It was the second time in two weeks that she had come face to face with her hockey crush, and the second time didn't feel like it was going to be any easier. At least she wasn't making ridiculous faces through the glass this time. "Bellamy Blake," she squeaked.
"Most people just call me Bellamy," he responded easily. "I would respond with your name, but I don't actual know you as anything other than 'Charlie's mom' or 'the beautiful blonde with a great ass.'"
Clarke blushed furiously, "Clarke Griffin."
"Well, Clarke Griffin, what are you doing here? I would question if you're stalking your favorite hockey player with a great ass, but you're in front of the wrong locker room."
"Worked out okay, though, didn't it?" she somehow managed to tease.
He laughed, "Touché."
"I'm actually waiting for my horrible date to show his face again, so I can finally get home and end this night."
"Horrible date, eh? And he's in the Mountain Men's locker room?" Bellamy questioned.
"Blind date," Clarke specified. "Set up by my mother who is convinced I need to quote, unquote 'get out there more.' She knows the Wallaces through some convoluted high class, everyone whose anyone knows everyone whose anyone type of relationship. She heard 'hockey' and immediately thought that's all I needed to get along with someone. Not thinking that he is, one, a complete douchebag, and two, the owner of my team's rival. But anyway…"
Bellamy let out a hearty laugh. "You're on a date with Cage Wallace?" he asked before launching into another bout of laughter. "I am so sorry." He paused. "Do you need a ride home? Because I could give you a ride home."
"But you're Bellamy Blake," was Clarke's oh-so-intelligent response.
"Yes, and I have a car and am here and can give you a ride home."
Clarke stumbled to try to think up a good reason why she shouldn't take him up on his offer.
"It's not like I'm some random stranger offering. I'm Bellamy Blake, you said so yourself."
"But, uh—"
"You can't think of a good reason not to, can you?"
Clarke practically shouted the first semi-coherent argument that came to mind. "Being famous and a serial killer would be a good way to get victims to trust you. And as long as your victims aren't famous who would be wiser?"
"That's the best you've got?"
"Yeah," she replied defeatedly.
"Then let's go," Bellamy gestured for her to begin walking and strode along beside her.
After a moment of silence, Clarke spoke up. "I thought you guys had like a team bus or something."
"I pulled the 'my sister kept me, sorry I'm late, I'm on my way' card and drove myself. It was true which is the only reason I got away with it. Kane has met Octavia; he knows how she can be."
Clarke laughed. "My friend Raven is like that: always late for everything, making everyone else late, and then insisting she's on time. Speaking of Raven, she did not believe me when I told her you said I had a great ass." Clarke immediate regretted her words, wishing beyond hope she could rewind time or somehow take back that last sentence from ever existing.
"Well, I'll just have to tell her myself then won't I?" Bellamy shrugged it off easily, like it wasn't something completely embarrassing to say.
In minutes they arrived in front of a giant pick-up truck. "How in the world am I supposed to climb up into that thing?" Clarke mused.
"I could give you a boost if you need it," Bellamy suggested with a smirk as he slung his hockey bag easily into the back seat.
"You just want to get your hands on my great ass," Clarke quipped, surprising herself by how easy the banter with Bellamy had become in a matter of minutes.
"Not even going to bother lying about that one," he responded
Clarke reached up and grabbed the handle on the inside of the door, placing one foot on the step. "No touching," she instructed with a stern voice before hoisting herself up with effort.
Only once she was fully seated did Bellamy give her a full smirk. "No touching, but the view was great," he closed her door before she could respond. He walked around the truck and flawlessly climbed into his seat.
Conversation flowed smoothly as if this wasn't the second brief time they had ever interacted. They were almost to her house when her phone lit up with a text message from Cage:
Where are you?
11:46 pm
Don't worry about it.
I got a ride home.
11:47 pm
From Bellamy Blake.
11:47 pm
Don't bother calling.
11:47 pm
Ever.
11:48 pm
She tucked her phone back in her purse and hoped that would be enough to draw the line in the sand.
"Who was that?" Bellamy asked before quickly adding, "You don't have to answer that."
Clarke smiled even though he couldn't see it. "It was Cage. I told him I got a ride from you and that he shouldn't bother trying to call me again." She could have sworn she saw Bellamy's face smile in the glow of the dash. "Oh, and turn left up here at the stop sign. And then the second house on the right," she instructed.
Bellamy pulled into her driveway and parked, hovering over his keys before pulling his hand back in his lap. The move did not go unnoticed by Clarke and she wasn't exactly sure how she felt about it; whether she wanted him to turn off the engine or not.
"So, what was Charlie up to tonight?" Bellamy asked in the silence.
Clarke smiled jubilantly, she had spent the entire evening with Cage and not once had he asked about her son other than to confirm the child she had hugged good-bye was hers. And here was a man who she had spent maybe half an hour with and had mentioned her son twice.
"Knowing him, he watched the game on the television with Raven and convinced her to order pizza for dinner, no doubt with the chocolate lava cakes for dessert."
"Sounds like my kind of night," Bellamy agreed. "So should I come and tell Raven myself that I think you have a great ass, or would waving at the front window that she's peering out of be good enough?"
Clarke immediately looked at the front window and sure enough the curtain was pushed aside just enough that a face was clearly watching the pick-up. She sighed a laugh, "A wave should more than satisfy her."
Bellamy complied with a grin and Clarke found herself laughing when a hand sheepishly joined the head and waved back before the figure disappeared. As Clarke reached for the door handle, she felt Bellamy's hand gently grab her other elbow. She turned back toward him. "Clarke?" he started. "Um, would I be pushing things if I gave you my number?"
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "I'd really like that," she told him handing her phone over after she unlocked it.
He quickly typed his number in and handed it back. "Bye, Clarke Griffin. I hope to hear from you soon."
"Have a good night, Bellamy Blake. You most definitely will."
As she walked to the front door she schooled herself not to look back, but allowed one final look before she opened the door. His eyes were still on her. Only after she was safely inside did the truck pull away.
She didn't even have a full moment to sigh in sheer happiness before Raven was on her. "Was that Bellamy Blake? Like Bellamy Blake, left wing for Sky Crew? Didn't you go on a date with some other guy? What's-his-name?"
"Cage Wallace," Clarke supplied. "I had gone into the night assuming someone else with the name Cage, but no, the owner of the fu—freaking Mountain Men," she grimaced at the slip up. Good thing Charlie wasn't there to call her on it and put money in the swear jar.
Raven barked a laugh. "But that was Bellamy Blake that you got a ride home from right?" she asked excitedly.
"Yes," Clarke affirmed, trying to hide her blush and smile. "And he gave me his number too."
"Damn, girl. I take it back. I bet he really did say your ass was great."
"I told you!" Clarke exclaimed.
Raven proceeded to make Clarke divulge every detail of her encounter with Bellamy; neither got to bed until past 1:00.
A few weeks later Bellamy was over at his sisters helping his brother-in-law, Lincoln, cook dinner when Octavia came bursting in, kid on one hip, his phone in the other hand.
"Bellamy Blake!" she yelled. "Who is Clarke Griffin and why have you been texting and calling her for the past month and not telling me anything about it?"
"What are you even doing with my phone?" he asked taking it from her and sparing Lincoln a glance in hopes of support from his overzealous sister. The large, muscular man simply shrugged and went back to preparing dinner.
"I thought it was mine when it went off because you never talk to anyone, but it was a message from a Clarke Griffin. And then I looked through your phone and you two have been talking for a month. A month, Bellamy!" The child on her hip started to squirm. Octavia smiled at her daughter and set her on her feet, whence Rory padded promptly over to see what her dad was up to; she definitely got her quiet nature from her father.
Bellamy smiled at his niece before answering his sister. "Yes, I'm quite aware I've been talking to Clarke," he told his sister fighting a smile. "I still don't see why it's any of your business."
"Because I'm your sister and if you're dating someone I have the right to know! I need to meet her and vet her and make sure she's good enough for you; make sure she's not going out with your because you're some famous hockey player. Start from the beginning, tell me everything."
Bellamy chuckled. "Here's what I will tell you: I really like her, she's great, and I don't even know if we're technically dating."
Octavia physically barred him from going back to the other side of the island to finish cooking. "Nope. Not good enough. Do you take her on dates? Kiss her goodnight after them? That's dating and if you're dating, then by the sibling code I need to meet her."
"And how long were you and Lincoln dating before you told me, let alone introduced him to me."
Octavia at least had the good graces to turn a little red. "Not the same thing."
Bellamy raised an eyebrow and pulled the cutting board toward him, so he could continue chopping carrots from where he stood.
"Okay, fine," she relented. "I hid him from you for a little while. But, Bell," she broke out the puppy dog eyes, "I just want to meet your girlfriend."
He tried not to meet her gaze; damn him and his indulgent big brother ways. "I don't even know if she's 'my girlfriend,'" he tried.
"I bet she would be if you asked, you said you'd been dating for a month."
"I said we've been," he searched for the right words, "hanging out for a little over a month."
"Over a month?!" she exclaimed, before changing her tone, "Please, big brother. I want to meet her."
Bellamy rolled his eyes. "How do you ever win an argument with this one?" he asked Lincoln.
Lincoln chuckled good-naturedly. "I don't."
Bellamy heaved a sigh. "Alright, fine. I'll ask her if she'd be willing to meet you."
"Yay!" Octavia cheered, grabbing Rory's hands and dancing around the kitchen briefly. She grabbed Bellamy's phone from where he had set it and placed it in his hand. "Do it now."
He rolled his eyes, muttering, "Yes, making phone calls while you watch and listen intently, that's exactly my favorite thing to do." But like the dutiful brother he was, he walked a few steps into the living room and dialed Clarke's number, shaking his head, disbelieving he was actually doing this.
"Hello?" Clarke picked up on the third ring. "Hang on a second." The phone was muffled slightly but he could still hear her speaking, "Charlie, can you make sure Raven and Jasper don't burn down the kitchen. I'm going to take this call really quick." He heard two adults' shouts of indignation before it quieted. "Hi," she said shyly. "Sorry about that."
"Nope, it's all on me for calling out of the blue," he smiled to hear her voice. "So, anyway," he decided to get it over with, "my sister confiscated my phone earlier and noticed our call log. She's insisting that I introduce the two of you. And probably Lincoln, which would mean Rory, too. So, yeah, thoughts? No pressure, if you don't want to you don't have to. I just told her I'd ask."
Clarke laughed at his rambling. "I could meet your sister. Unless you think it's too soon," she added quickly.
"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't want you to," Bellamy told her.
"Um, okay," he could hear the smile in her voice. "How old is Rory? Maybe her and Charlie could get each other entertained."
"She's four."
"That's okay, Charlie loves hanging out with the littler ones. He always begs to stay for the Skating for Tots program after his practices."
"Hey that's an idea! We could meet at the local rink. I've been wanting to get you back to the ice since it's the place we first met. And I know Octavia has been bringing Rory there every once in a while in hopes of living her figure skater dreams vicariously through her daughter."
There was a long quiet pause on the other end of the line. "Um…I don't know how to skate," Clarke's embarrassed voice came through.
"Your son plays ice hockey and you've never gone out of the ice with him before?"
"Not really. I grew up in South Carolina, ice related activities weren't really that big. And the one time I went, it did not turn out in my favor. I just watched a lot of hockey with my dad and then when Charlie came along he joined us and decided at age four he was going to play ice hockey. So, when we moved back to my dad's hometown with the ice rink just down the street, I signed him up for lessons. Never thought to do it for myself too."
Bellamy shook his head. "Well, I'm just going have to teach you then. You can't be the mom of one ice hockey player and the girlfriend of another and not know how to skate." He bit his tongue upon realizing what he had said.
But she seemed completely unfazed and only let out a short laugh. "Okay, fine. But you're the one who has to make sure I don't spend the entire time with my butt on the ice."
"A task I will take seriously, I assure you," he smiled.
A couple minutes later he returned to the kitchen, phone tucked in his pocket. "So, it's set. Two weeks from Thursday, all of us meeting her and Charlie at the ice rink."
"Charlie?"
"Her son," Bellamy replied. "Actually the reason we met; he was one of the kids at the Practice with Sky Crew program."
"Somehow I knew adorable kids were the way to your heart," Octavia teased. "We will be there! I will write it on the calendar now."
Clarke was nervous to say the least. She would have been nervous to meet Octavia and her husband and kid, and she should have been nervous to go ice skating with a professional hockey player. So, combining the two, she was almost a wreck.
"Come on, Mom!" Charlie said, dragging her by her hand toward the building. She followed her ever-eager child.
As soon as she walked in the door, she saw Bellamy waving them and motioning for them to join him where he sat on a bench, with a gorgeous dark-haired woman, bulking man, and small girl, whom Clarke assumed to be his family. She and Charlie made their way over to the group, Clarke running her hand over Charlie's head to calm herself. Breathe, she reminded herself. You've only been going out for a little less than two months, it shouldn't feel like you're meeting who's going to be your family for the rest of your life.
No matter how many times Clarke tried to rationalize her feelings for Bellamy, she always came away with the slightly panicked worry that she was falling too hard, too fast. Her past relationships had not always ended well. Her first major relationship had ended in a huge blow-up and a rebound one-night stand. But, she had gotten Raven out of the first half, and Charlie out of the second half, so she couldn't count that one as a complete loss. Her second major relationship had left her devastated when after a year Lexa revealed she had never seen herself as a parent and never would.
The other night, Clarke confessed her worries to Raven; the woman had simply smiled and said, "Third times the charm." Clarke hoped she was right.
Bellamy stood to greet her, high-fiving Charlie as he raced to the spot on the bench before pulling his skates out of his bag.
"You can kiss him if you want," Charlie informed her, looking up from his skates. "I know you want to, but are embarrassed because I'm here. I don't mind."
"Yeah, kiss her, Uncle Bellamy!" the little girl encouraged. "That's what you do when you like someone a lot. Mommy says so."
And if Clarke was a little embarrassed before, she surely was now.
Bellamy chuckled good naturedly. "Well, if that's what your mommy said…" he tugged on Clarke's hand, bringing her closer before giving her a chaste kiss, which she couldn't help but smile into.
He kept hold of her hand when she turned to face his family. "Clarke, this is Octavia, Lincoln, and Rory," he introduced, gesturing to each in turn. "Octavia, Lincoln, Rory, I'd like you to meet Clarke. And of course, this guy, who looks like he he's going to on the ice as soon as I finish introducing him, is Charlie." He added, ruffling Charlie's hair a little.
Lincoln shook her hand. "It's good to meet you," he told her before turning to Charlie with his hand outstretched; Charlie, on his part looked over the moon at getting the adult greeting, which she suspected was Lincoln's ploy the entire time.
Charlie waved to Octavia and Rory before immediately turning to Clarke. "Mom, can I go?" he gestured to the ice and a boy who was grinning eagerly at him.
Clarke shook her head with a smile, "Yeah, I see Eric, too. Go ahead." Charlie took off toward the ice, or well, as fast as you can "take off" when you're in skates on that weird rubber carpeting. "Sorry about that; Eric is one of his friends on his hockey team. I don't know if it's a coincidence or if he told Eric to be here."
Bellamy chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll wander back when he sees us getting food later."
"All I'll have to do is reach for my wallet while thinking about food and he'll immediately know and come running. I think they program all boys like that."
Bellamy grinned. "I'm pretty sure all kids are like that. You should have seen Octavia when she was a kid—"
"And on that note, I'm stealing Clarke away to get skates," Octavia announced gleefully cutting off Bellamy and grabbing Clarke's free hand to start in the direction of the skate rental.
When they were a few feet away, Octavia turned to her slightly. "So, tell me about yourself. Bell wouldn't really tell me anything; something about me being a mom now and having to stop trying to use the puppy dog eyes on people, so I don't set a bad example for my daughter."
Clarke laughed, "Um, I'm a 28-year-old, single mother who works as a physical trainer at the public high school."
"Physical trainer, eh?" She waggled her eyebrows before making a disgusted face, "Ugh. I was about to make some joke about athletes and their physical training and then I realized it's my brother you're dating, so no, not going to go there."
"Probably not good for your mental health. My friend Fox is dating Wells, who is basically my brother, and anytime someone insists on girl talk with her I leave the room. No one could pay me enough to hear those details; as long as he's happy, I'm happy, no need to know anything else."
It was Octavia's turn to laugh. "Exactly." She turned to the guy behind the counter, "Size 9 girls', size 13 men's, and a 7 in women's"
"Make that two for the size 7," Clarke added. The high schooler mechanically brought the skates to the counter, while the women chatted and Clarke learned Octavia was a martial arts instructor and Lincoln was an art therapist, and that Bellamy had basically raised Octavia, but would never bring it up under the rouse that any brother would have done it.
When they returned with skates in hand, Bellamy stood and slid an arm around Clarke's waist, "She didn't ask too many personal questions or anything, right?" he asked worriedly.
"Nope, but she did tell me a few things about you," she teased.
"What did she say?" the worry taking on a stronger tone.
"Things that make me like you even more," she pecked him on the cheek and sat down to pull on her skates. He scrunched up his face concertedly before sitting down next to her and pulling his own skates out of his bag.
"And you remember what you promised?" Clarke asked tentatively several minutes later as she stood about to step onto the ice. "Because last time I did this I ended up with a broken arm and bruised tailbone."
"I've got you, Princess. Trust me?" he asked, holding out his hands.
"Yeah, I guess," she quipped off-handedly, a quiet smirk to make sure he knew she was teasing. She grasped his hands and took the step onto the slippery surface.
He beamed at her and began to skate backwards pulling her along. "Keep your knees slightly bent, lean a little bit forward," he coached. "And now push off with one foot, now the other."
She wobbled slightly as she tried to do as he instructed. He smiled at her, eyes barely leaving her for the first two painfully slow laps around the rink. Charlie had already lapped them three times.
"Want to try a little more independence?" Bellamy asked. Clarke gave him a panicked look. Bellamy chuckled quietly. "I'll still be right here, just next to you instead of in front."
"Okay," Clarke said warily, still unconvinced.
He glided over to her side, as simple as taking a step. "Did you just glare at me?"
"You make it look so easy," she complained. "Like you could skate this entire rink in the time it takes me to get around this curve."
"You do remember I do this for a living right?" he smirked.
She opened her mouth to respond, but only huffed. He did have a point.
Bellamy leaned over, pressing a kiss to her temple, "You'll get the hang of it."
And she did. Kind of. Twenty minutes later Bellamy finally convinced her she should try it by herself. She had made it a couple laps, faster than at the beginning and proudly announced, "I'm doing it!"
But no sooner had the words left her mouth, her hands triumphantly in the air that she lost her balance and started to fall. Bellamy reached out to steady her, but because she was reaching for him as well, she somehow managed to skate into his feet while taking out his torso and they ended up in a heap on the ice.
The chest underneath her head was rumbling with laughter. "What?" she demanded indignantly.
"You should have seen your face when you realized you were falling, like your own two feet had betrayed you."
"Yeah, well, you promised me you wouldn't let me fall, and here we are," she pointed out, gaining a seated position.
"Technically, I promised you wouldn't fall on your butt; you fell on top of me."
She narrowed her eyes at him and heard a voice call, "Get up, lovebirds. You're blocking the flow of traffic." Octavia came to a halt next to them.
Bellamy gained his feet easily and offered a hand to Clarke which she took and didn't let go even after she stood.
"I was actually just coming to let you guys know that we're going to get some food. Rory's starting to get that hangry look in her eye whenever she sees someone walk by with food."
"I wonder where she learned that," Bellamy teased.
"Shut up," she punched his arm. "So, food?"
"Let me just try to get Charlie's attention," Clarke started looking around.
"Oh, he's already getting off the ice with Lincoln and Rory. He was helping with the skating lessons after his friend left," Octavia explained
"Told you," Clarke smiled up at Bellamy, proud of how much her son liked helping the younger kids on the ice.
"Never said I doubted you," he replied.
With a quick glance and a smile at their joined hands, Octavia spoke again. "If you two wanted to do a few more laps, Lincoln and I are fine with getting the food and you guys can just meet us at the table. I think Rory's pretty taken with Charlie; she's not used to getting this much attention from older kids."
Clarke though about it for a moment, "If you're sure you guys don't mind. I want to get another few laps under my belt, just to say that I skated for a solid thirty minutes and only fell once. Bell?" she questioned, turning to him.
"I'd be down for a little more ice time," he nodded.
"No problem at all," Octavia enthused before skating off, a gleeful grin plaster on her face.
They began working on another lap, Clarke keeping Bellamy's hand firmly in her grasp. "I thought you were doing good on your own, or did the fall make you afraid of the ice again?" Bellamy teased.
"Maybe I just like it better this way," she told him with a blinding smile, giving his hand a squeeze.
He returned her smile with one of equal brilliance. "I think I like it better this way, too."