Title: Flight Of The Phoenix

Author: TheMastersDaughter

Summary: A young woman, plagued by dreams of a green code… what can it mean? And more importantly, who is the mysterious man looking for her?

Rating: T. Some language so beware!

Disclaimer: Much as I would love to own the Matrix, I don't. They are the property of the Wachowski Brothers, the Warner Brothers and Village Roadshow Pictures.

Again. That dream again. Green light, numbers and symbols… what could it mean?

Rubbing her eyes, Jenna kicked the covers off her bed to form a large, crumpled heap on the floor. She had the same dream every night, at least, when she actually slept. It was rare that she managed more than a couple of hours of rest before she woke, sweat pouring off her body and her breathing harsh and rapid as if she had been running from some inescapable nightmare fiend. Even in waking the strange green visage played in front of her eyes, tormenting her.

Wiping her dripping forehead on her sleeve, Jenna slowly pulled herself off the bed and slumped towards the gloomy kitchen to make a cup of tea. Little that it would help.

Glancing at the luminous clock fixed to the microwave, she briefly registered the time before drawing her eyes away quickly as they began to once again fill with the incessant green digits she saw every waking hour. Five am. 3 hours of sleep. Well, it was longer than she usually had.

She let out a soft sigh before wearily turning to the kettle, filling it with water, and turning the small red switch to the 'on' position. This was her morning routine. Her boss was always pleased to see his employee arrive early to work, little did he know the reasons for her punctuality.

The kettle boiled, the piercing whistle screeching in Jenna's head, further exasperating her volatile mood. Slamming a hand onto the innocent switch, she cursed as a few droplets of boiling water landed on her arm, scorching her skin. Ignoring the pain and fixing a worried frown on her face, Jenna carefully poured the water into a mug before wandering back to her bedroom and sinking down to sit on her lumpy, coverless bed. Clasping the hot cup between her hands, she let the comforting heat seep up her arms as she pensively watched the twirling wisp of steam gradually drift up to the ceiling.

What was happening to her? For months now, she had experienced vivid dreams of a dark, black emptiness penetrated only by an eerie assortment of undistinguishable swirling green digits. For months, she had barely slept, let alone enjoyed her life. Ever since… ever since Thomas had disappeared.

Jenna thought back, remembering the quiet, dark-haired and sparkling-eyed young man who had been renting the flat opposite her until two months ago. In a sudden turn of fate, he had abruptly disappeared from her life without a trace. No one knew where, or how. Everything in his flat had been left just as it was when he lived there. Rumour was that he had been kidnapped. Jenna disagreed. True, there was something distinctly odd about the entire situation, but kidnappings? No.

Jenna had known Thomas for barely six months before he disappeared. She smiled as she sipped her tea, remembering the circumstances under which they had encountered.

Six months ago, Jenna had been an eager young reporter with her entire career ahead of her. She had recently moved to America and was staying in a small, but decent apartment in a block of flats owned by her aunt. Although her aunt had offered to let her take the flat for free, Jenna had declined, telling her aunt that she would rather learn to live her own life and take care of her responsibilities. After all, how does anyone learn if they are given everything?

Jenna quickly procured a job writing for the local newspaper. It was a menial, minimal source of income, but it was money all the same. After working there for a week, she was swiftly promoted and sent out to do interviews along with other thinking-on-her feet tasks. That was how she met Thomas.

Metacortex, a well-known software company, had just released a big-hit computer game and Jenna was swiftly dispatched to interview the successful multimillionaire boss. She had taken an immediate dislike to the man, but as was her job, she suppressed her feelings and asked the necessary questions before preparing herself to leave. The boss had appeared a manipulative, sad little man and Jenna was convinced that he had barely participated in any part of the design or creation of the program. It was always the way. Lazy bosses took credit for all the work while the poor employees were simply left in shadow and forgotten about. She hated such injustice.

A frown of annoyance was plastered to her face as she swept hastily from the despicable man's office. One day, she decided, she would write exactly what she wanted – the truth - instead of the rubbish she was forced to write, praising the non-existent skills of undeserving millionaires. In the end, they were nothing.

In her rush to escape the building, she only just swerved in time to avoid knocking over a tall, dark-haired young man. His unaffected expression was distinctly gloomy and his deep brown eyes devoid of hope. His hair was messy as if he had not had chance to comb it before leaving the house and purple bags hung under his eyes to give an accurate dictionary definition of 'depressed employee'.

"Oh God, I'm sorry." Jenna apologised immediately, a light blush tingeing her cheeks as she clumsily pulled aside to let him pass. He looked up briefly, oblivious to the fact she had only just avoided bumping into him. After a moment, his blank face switched to an expression of mild confusion before breaking into a small smile.

"Don't worry."

Jenna smiled back and dipped her head slightly before turning away from the tired-looking young man and continuing her journey to the door.

Returning to her previous train of thought, Jenna began to map the article in her mind. The result was entirely unsatisfactory, but that was nothing unusual. There was an infinite number of corrupt, powerful people in her city, and it was her job to write about them in a good light.

Later that evening, Jenna's mind was plagued with a mixture of thoughts as she drove back to her apartment. The bright yellow eyes of passing cars glared at her as she wove carefully through the night traffic. She did not enjoy driving by night but she often did not have a choice. Especially as it was not uncommon to get stuck in the traffic jams that occurred on a regular basis.

Eventually, she pulled into a narrow grotty side-street lit only by a few dim streetlamps. Parking her car in one of the tiny spaces outside the block of flats lining the alley, Jenna sighed as she clambered out of her car, then locked it with a reassuring twitter accompanied by a quick indicator flash. Turning to the entrance door, she wrestled it open, desperate to get back to her apartment and dose up on alcohol to relieve the day's stresses. Just as she began to stride, two steps at a time up the stairs, she encountered a tall, thin figure in her path. Instinctively swerving to avoid the apparition, Jenna only succeeded in tripping over an unidentifiable object and slamming, face-first into the hard-tiled floor.

"Jeeeeesus!"

Jenna subsequently uttered a stream of curses as she attempted to lift herself from the ground. Her knees stung, her grazed arms twinged with pain, and her chest ached ominously with a pre-warning to the nice collection of bruises she would acquire the following morning.

Instinctively, she flinched away as a large pale hand entered her vision. Her eyes following the white arm to its owner, Jenna quickly registered the gentle concern before accepting the extended hand.

As the hand's owner pulled Jenna to her feet, she groaned slightly in pain. "Oww..." She moaned, rubbing her chest where she sensed a bruise was beginning to form. "That hurt." The woman straightened up and compulsively brushed the flecks of dust from her dark clothes, before glancing up to look straight in the eye of the figure towering above her.

"I'm sorry." A soft voice apologised guiltily as the figure helped her off the floor. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but Jenna squinted to conclude that the man was fairly young and a considerable few feet taller than her.

"Oh, don't worry, it's these damn lights, they're always not working. You can blame my aunt for that." Jenna said casually, wincing as her scraped arm brushed the cold metal hand railing. She smiled up at the figure and began to make her way up the stairs, fixing her mind on an image of her sideboard where she kept all her drink.

"Well, yeah…" Pensively, he paused for a moment before deciding to follow the young woman as she progressed up the stairs. "Sorry, who actually is your aunt?"

Jenna laughed lightly and turned back to the figure whose features were still indistinguishable in the lack of light. Her eyes traced his shape and she guessed he was roughly the same age as her.

"My auntie's Holly Ravensworth. If you're living here - which I'm presuming you are - then she's your landlady." Jenna elaborated.

"Oh, right. Okay." The young man watched Jenna as she reached her floor and strode into the hall before turning back to the stairs as if unsure what to do with himself.

Vaguely aware of his absent behaviour, Jenna looked over her shoulder to see him sigh glumly before leaning against the metal hand-railing as if there was nothing else to do in life. But that's not true, Jenna told herself. There's always something to do.

"Hey, look, do you want to come in and have a cup of tea? You never know, it might be more interesting than looking down the stairs." Jenna joked. She was not quite sure herself why she had invited him in. Perhaps she felt a mutual connection with him. Perhaps it was fate… ha. Fate. No such thing.

"It's hard to beat looking down the stairs, but yeah, thanks." The man said quietly, abandoning his slumping position before promptly joining the young woman at her door. He waited patiently as Jenna fumbled in her bag for keys.

Her hand brushing the muck and grime accumulated in the bottom of her bag; Jenna promptly remembered that the keys were in the pocket of her trousers, typical to her nature. Her companion remained silent and indifferent as she continued to struggle, this time with fitting her key into the barely visible lock. It was like he was in another world, completely oblivious to everything happening around him.

After a few moments, the lock clicked and the door creaked inwards welcomingly. Allowing her guest to enter first, Jenna reached in to switch the lights on.

Her apartment was reasonably tidy, excusing the odd bottle of wine and half-empty glasses lying around. There was a small television in the lounge, along with a large bookshelf, a coffee table and a sofa suite. Running a hand through her dark locks, she sighed and gestured for the man to sit on her settee.

A frown creased her face as she met the man's eyes while he sat himself onto the couch, she suddenly realised why he seemed so familiar.

"I know you! You're the guy I almost bumped into earlier!" She exclaimed, a small blush appearing on her face as she remembered.

The man's serious, pensive expression transformed into a smile as he recognised her. "Oh yeah…" Mimicking her action of only moments ago, he also ran a hand over his head, apparently embarrassed.

Attempting to lighten the mood from awkward matters, Jenna tactfully changed the subject as she walked over to the sideboard, reaching inside in an attempt to find two wine-glasses.

"So whereabouts are you staying? I mean, what number?" She asked, having completed her quest for glasses, she began to search for a cheap bottle of wine.

"Just at the end of this floor actually. I never really talk to people round here. Just work." He replied, uneasily shifting on the sofa and clasping his hands on his lap like a guilty child. "Only been here for a few months since I got chucked out of my last place for rent."

Unsure how to reply to this, Jenna smiled lightly and closed her hand around a bottle, realising that she didn't care what wine it was, as long as she could drink it and forget the day's stresses. Sitting on the spare lounger, Jenna pulled the coffee table towards her and poured herself, and after a nod of consent from her companion, another glass, then handed it to the tired-looking young man.

The young man sipped the wine nervously, his eyes darting fleetingly around the room as if he expected something to leap out and attack him at any moment. Observing his curious behaviour, Jenna frowned, wondering if he had some sort of paranoia which prevented him from relaxing. Of course, she could not ask him because that would just be too direct, not to mention rude.

Taking a large gulp of her own wine to sooth her nerves, Jenna sighed relishing the feeling of the crimson liquid sliding down her throat.

"This stuff's good." The man told her, swilling the wine with his tongue as it tingled in his mouth, "What is it?"

"Er, Rosé? I think. Not sure, whatever I happened to buy last time I went to the supermarket." Jenna told him honestly, handing him the bottle so he could read the label. She watched him for a few moments until he glanced up, his dark brown eyes meeting her grey ones. "What did you say your name was?"

"Oh, I didn't. My name's Thomas, I work at Metacortex as you know." He told her, reaching out to give the wine bottle back to her. "You?"

Jenna's cheeks coloured slightly as his hand brushed hers in the exchange. Quickly composing herself, she nodded pensively and carefully put the wine bottle back on the table, its cool glass chilling her hot hand.

"I'm Jenna. I work for a local newspaper which basically no one reads. But it's a job, and I mostly enjoy it so…" She smiled at Thomas before draining the rest of her glass and refilling it with a light 'clink'. A stressful day required a lot of alcohol.

"Whoa, journalism? I suppose you were writing about that new program I – er, we developed?"

Raising her eyebrow at his slight blunder, Jenna nodded. So that's how it went. He developed the program. "Yeah, personally – and no offense – but I don't reckon much to your boss." She immediately regretted what she had said as Thomas's eyebrows joined in a V.

Seeing her expression of concern, Thomas allowed a small smile to cross his lips. "It's alright. Nor me." He reassured her. "But I-" He was cut off as Jenna indicated the wine bottle, asking him if he wanted a refill. Nodding his consent, Thomas watched in silence as the glass filled with brilliant red liquid, casting eerie crimson shadows over the mahogany of her coffee table.

"Continue?" Jenna prompted, seeing that her companion was falling into another state of irresponsiveness. She concealed a smile as his head jerked up and his expression resembled one of someone just awoken from a deep sleep.

"I'm not great at getting to work." He finished slowly, choosing his words carefully as he laid his half-empty wineglass on the table then leaned back into the sofa, folding his arms behind his head.

Jenna smiled encouragingly. "I know what you mean, I hate getting up early, especially when I've had a bad sleep." She cut herself off before she began to ramble.

"Mmm. Yeah. I get these really… weird dreams. I don't understand it." Thomas replied uncertainly, looking off into the distance as if there was something there that Jenna was unable to see.

Taking another swig of her wine, Jenna nodded. "Some things the brain can't explain. Especially dreams. I read some of Freud's interpretation of dreams once, but I found it pretty heavy. Personally I think that I can come to my own conclusions from dreams, namely that I'm crazy!" Thomas chuckled slightly as Jenna smiled. "So what do you tend to dream about then?"

He shrugged his shoulders, the smile fading from his face. "I don't know."

Concluding that he didn't wish to talk about it, Jenna decided to lapse into silence, unsure what to say next. Perhaps Thomas just preferred silence and computers to human company.

The dim light above the coffee table sent long shadows across the room. Jenna finished her second glass of wine in one swallow then roe to her feet, rummaged in a drawer under the sideboard and produced a box of matches. She slowly wandered around her lounge, lighting any candles she found in the process. Jenna loved candles, they reminded her of life. Unpredictable and uncontrollable. Beautiful, but dangerous in equal measure.

"So er… how long have you been making computer programs for? I mean, you must be pretty efficient at it to be working for a big shot company like you do." Jenna asked lamely, finally breaking the awkward silence. The golden candlelight sent flickering, dancing shadows over the walls and bathed her skin in a soft luminescence while slightly increasing the heat in the room.

"Since I was twelve. I've always been good with computers, just not much else." Thomas replied simply as his gaze fixed on the candle, finding its dancing shape hypnotic. His eyes briefly flicked to Jenna as she replaced the matches in their draw and moved back to sit in her chair, promptly pouring herself another glass of wine.

"Oh, right. So what do you do in your spare time when you're not making programs then?" Jenna asked persistently, clasping her glass between her hands and leaning forward fractionally to show that she was interested to hear his reply.

Thomas paused for a moment, unsure how to respond. He decided on a half-truth. "Mainly working with computers. Sad it may seem, computers are my life. I just spend all day working on stuff for people." Jenna raised an eyebrow sceptically, he was deliberately avoiding the question. It was obvious he was used to keeping a lot of secrets, he didn't talk to a lot of people. But once Jenna wanted to know something, she would stop at nothing to get there.

"…Stuff?" She asked innocently, smiling gently at the young man, trying her charm to lure the truth from him. After all, she was not a reporter for nothing.

"Just er… stuff… you know…" He trailed off, avoiding her eyes as they trailed to her wine glass; the crimson liquid had turned a strange pink colour in the candlelight,, dying Jenna's pale skin a fiery orange. "Like websites for people." …And big-ass hacks for punks who pay enough. He added silently.

"Ah. Personally I like travelling, and the good thing is that it comes with the job." Jenna lifted her wine glass to inspect the liquid before taking another swig. "Have you travelled much?"

Thomas shook his head slightly. "No. Mostly America. That's it." He paused for a moment, then looked up to meet Jenna's inquiring eyes. "What countries have you been to?"

God, I've never known someone who finds it so difficult to communicate. Jenna thought. "Well, too many to name probably. I'm lucky cause I'm pretty well travelled. Let's see…" She put her wine glass down on the table and ran a hand through her fringe which had fallen over her eyes. "Well, I originally came from England, then moved here with my aunt, but before that I went to India, Australia, New Zealand, Spain, France… those sort of places." She grinned, "Oh, and Italy – that was good, but I loved Japan and Norway, they're fascinating countries."

"Wow." Thomas replied, his eyes widening slightly at her long list.

Jenna nodded. "Yeah, it's a long list and I could go on forever telling you all the pros and cons of each country." She looked up to meet his shining eyes and smiled then offered the bottle of wine to him again, seeing that his glass was once again empty.

Thomas looked blankly at the bottle for a moment, then realised she was offering him more wine. Passing a hand across his forehead, his eyes wandered until they fell on Jenna's clock, fixed above the sideboard.

"Thanks Jenna, but I'd better get back to my place. I gotta get to work on time tomorrow." He declined politely, groaning slightly as he rose off the settee and stretched with a loud yawn.

Jenna laughed lightly and smiled. "Would you like me to show you out?" She asked friendlily as she reached for her glass and swigged down the remaining crimson liquid, her eyes resting wistfully on the last quarter of wine left in the bottle.

Thomas smiled at her expression and shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm sure I can remember. I'll see you around." He began to walk towards the door, then changed his mind and looked back. "And try not to drink too much 'k? You'd better not be late either."

Jenna lifted an eyebrow at his sudden boldness, finding it almost patronising, but she thought about it for a moment. Considering that he wasn't a very talkative person, perhaps his concern was more valid than it was undermining. Jenna nodded.

"Sure, okay Thomas." However nice he was trying to be, she still found it slightly patronising, but maybe it was just his way.

He looked awkward for a moment, then opened his mouth to say something before changing his mind. This was not lost on Jenna.

"Yes?" She asked teasingly.

Realising he was not going to get away with saying 'nothing', Thomas sighed. "I was just gonna say thanks for inviting me round, I don't normally so…" He trailed off sounding embarrassed and in the soft candlelight Jenna was sure a slight blush coloured his cheeks.

"Anytime you want to come around or go out and get drunk, I'm the one to call!" Jenna told him enthusiastically. Perhaps the wine was taking effect, because she wasn't usually quite as blasé.

Looking even more embarrassed, Thomas gave a dignified nod and reached for the door handle before striding out with a last, shy, 'Bye.'

Jenna smiled, he was sweet and rather amusing. Hopefully they'd meet up again. Little did she know that they would, a lot, over the next few months.

Smiling to herself, Jenna sipped her tea. It was funny how she had thought that, because through those few months, she and Thomas had become good friends. They met up at least two nights a week to talk about anything interesting that had happened in their lives. Thomas had become more friendly with her aunt too, to the point of helping her with her rubbish every morning. Yes, he made her laugh.

They'd helped one another a lot. Jenna had reduced the amount she drunk, substituting alcohol for caffeine and Thomas had slowly come out of his shell to become a more forthcoming person, but she doubted he would ever be classified as social.

There had been a lot of talk in the neighbourhood, and of course by her aunt, about Jenna and Thomas becoming an item. Rumours of romance between them had flown like swallows, always hovering but never settling. They were good friends, and neither wanted to ruin what they had, it was as simple as that.

But now there was no chance of anything happening because Thomas had inexplicably disappeared off the face of the planet. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could explain his absence, his sudden disappearance. She would have noticed if her friend had a stalker, equally, she was sure that if he was going on holiday, he would have told her. She had been his best friend.

Enough reminiscing. Jenna thought to herself as she drained the last of her tea and unwillingly set down her mug. Slowly drawing herself up from the bed, she reached a conclusion. Thinking back to the circumstances in which she and Thomas had met had triggered something in Jenna. A decision.

It was worth taking one last look at Thomas's apartment, whatever the police said. Perhaps they'd missed something. Something that she could find. It was, after all, her nature to be inquiring.

Slipping the hair band out of her long, unruly hair, Jenna let her long locks fall into her face as she pulled on some clothes and shoved a pair of trainers on her feet. Reaching into her pocket for her key, she pulled open her door then locked it behind her. She wasn't planning to be long, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

As she reached the door to Thomas's apartment, Jenna briefly considered if this was a good idea. What if she got caught? What if it was emptied by the police? What if…? No.

Jenna knew that if she didn't look, she would never be satisfied, and either way, it was too late to turn back now.

Pulling out the apartment key Thomas had given her a few weeks ago, Jenna quickly turned it in the lock and swiftly shut door 101 behind her. She had to be careful not to leave fingerprints or the police could get suspicious.

She felt a sinking relief as the usual pile of mess that was Thomas's apartment greeted her. They hadn't moved his stuff – yet.

Jenna smiled, remembering how many times she had playfully nagged Thomas about tidying it up. He never listened. A few times she had even cleared it up for him because she couldn't stand it, he'd threatened to take the key back from her then. So she had complied with his wishes and left it a mess.

Glancing up and breaking out of her thoughts, Jenna's eyes fell on a large pile of sheets stacked carelessly on the desk, striding over to them she quickly began riffling through the papers. Maybe there was something there.

Scan-reading the fine print, Jenna made out three recurring words. Dream, Morpheus, Matrix.

"What?" Jenna whispered to herself, a frown creasing her face. Thomas had never mentioned anything about a Morpheus, nor a Matrix… but the dreams…? Could it be that Thomas had been having the same living nightmares that she was now experiencing? Perhaps there was something here to explain it… or maybe his disappearance explained it…

Could it be that Matrix and Morpheus were some sort of government secret conspiracy? That maybe Thomas had been taken away for finding out something he shouldn't know? After all, he had hinted there was something he wasn't letting on about. Something secret, important.

Brushing the first pile of papers aside, Jenna discovered a yet larger pile, however these were handwritten. Her eyes widened in surprise as she leafed through the identical sheets of white paper covered in scruffy black marker pen. Over and over, the same words were written.

'What is the Matrix?' Hardly a square inch of paper was spared that was not covered in those words, that question. Glancing down, Jenna found more papers, exactly the same as the ones in her hands.

She could not believe it. Thomas, her friend. He was insane. Paranoid. Perhaps that was why he had gone. Perhaps he was in a mental institute…

She shook her head. No, that was not possible. Something was wrong. Very wrong. But how could she find out what? What was this all about? Why hadn't he told her?

Turning around, Jenna scanned the bookshelf behind her, pondering the idea of searching it. Some people hid important information in the strangest places.

Idly running her hand along the bookshelf, Jenna suddenly found her hand resting on a dark green book called 'Simulacra And Simulation' but it didn't feel like a book. It was cold, metallic, And, Jenna thought, really not very bookish.

Frowning, she recklessly yanked the lid off the disguised book-cum-metal tin, Jenna's eyebrows lowered into a deep frown as she reached inside, running her fingers through the various disks until she finally fished one out.

Hacking? Is that what he was up to? I have to say, I thought he was smart… but breaking the law on this level is something else.

As she squinted at the labels on the disks, a sudden flash of light caught her eye. Instinctively glancing up, Jenna's eyes were immediately drawn to Thomas's computer screen. It's still on? Why would the police have left it on? How odd… She thought, drawing closer. Suddenly, her eyes refocused and she registered the symbols on the computer screen, the glowing green figures, swirling around in a chaotic maelstrom. As if in a trance, she drew closer to the flashing green monitor, hypnotised by the emerald storm of dancing digits.

"What is the Matrix?" Jenna whispered to his silent flat. It was as if the very words she had been reading repeatedly over the last few minutes had embedded themselves into the fabric of her mind.

Suddenly, the trance-inducing flashing ceased and was replaced by a plain black screen. Jenna's heart beat faster as suddenly green letters began to appear on the monitor, slowly forming words to produce a message. 'The Matrix is everywhere.'

Instinctively, Jenna spun around. Someone had to be watching her. Perhaps they had come for her now.

Her eyes darted around the room, scanning it for movement, a hidden camera - anything that could be used to observe her. The only source of light crept through the slim crack beneath the door, reflecting off the scattered sheets of information which flooded the floor like a strange interpretation of snow. Sighing in relief and silently cursing herself for being paranoid, Jenna fixed her gaze back onto the computer screen.

'They are here.'

Before Jenna had chance to react, a strong hand grasped the back of her neck while another roughly forced a foul-smelling grey cloth in front of her nose. Panicking, Jenna desperately tried to free herself from the iron grip. But it was impossible. Her captor had a grip of pure steel.

Squirming and wriggling, she struggled to squeeze out of their unyielding grasp, but as she thrashed in resistance to the restraining force, she only inhaled more of the odorous chemical permeating the rag. Realising her error too late as she gagged on the repugnant material, Jenna's eyes quickly flicked back to the flashing monitor.

'Help is coming…' The message was the last thing Jenna saw before collapsing, unconscious on the floor before a tall, dark figure stepped out of the shadows. His shiny, polished black shoes made no more sound than the soft pads of a cat's feet as he strode purposefully towards the computer and mercilessly yanked the plug from its socket causing the emerald display to cease. The figure allowed a small, satisfied smirk to cross its face before swiftly turning back to the unconscious woman's limp form.

"Well, pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Ravensworth."

Okay, so first chapter, not a lot happens and it's mainly introductions but I do promise more will happen in the next chapter. Please forgive the slow start, but I'll update as soon as possible – especially if you review!!!

Hope you like it so far,

~ TheMastersDaughter