Napalm and Novocain

By: Lara Winner

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Inuyasha or its characters.

(Warning: this story contains scenes of verbal/physical domestic violence)

Chapter 2: Shattered Reflection

BANG!

"Open the fucking door!"

The door knob jiggles violently and the loud cracking sound of his fists pounding against the thick wood grows louder.

"Kagome! Open this fucking door now!"

I slide down the wall and into a huddled ball on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. Putting my hands over my ears I squeeze my eyes shut and try to block out the sound of Suikotsu's furious voice. "Please…" I whimper, "please go away… go away… please…"

"Fuck you then! You're not worth this damn shit! You hear me! You're a worthless fucking cunt!"

Another loud bang punctuates his shout before his stomping footsteps retreat. A moment later the front door slams loud enough to echo through his now quiet apartment.

I give into my relieved tears, the choking sobs wracking my small frame as I hug my knees to my chest. My cheek is still smarting where his back-handed slap hit its mark with ruthless accuracy. I wince at the metallic taste of blood in my mouth where the impact caused me to bite the inside of my lip.

I remain on the floor until there are no more tears to be shed. Then I pull myself to my feet and face my hideous reflection in the mirror. My face is puffy and my skin is red and blotchy. I poke at my cheek and hiss at the soreness.

The evening had started out well enough. We had gone to his parent's house for dinner to celebrate our engagement. Everything was fine until we had gotten in the car to return to his apartment. Suikotsu casually said that his mother was going to enjoy planning the wedding. I had laughed dryly and replied as long she remembered that it wasn't her wedding.

I'd meant it as a joke but Suikotsu hadn't taken it that way. He got defensive and then started accusing me of hating his mother. By the time we'd gotten back to his apartment he was working himself into a fine state. Only able to take so much belittling from him I'd finally snapped back that he was being unreasonable and that was when he'd shoved me into the wall and slapped me hard enough to make my jaw go numb.

I don't remember running into the bathroom or closing the door but I do remember locking it and praying that he wouldn't manage to kick the door down in his rage. Then the panic had set in. It didn't ease until I heard him leave.

Now, facing the mirror in the aftermath, the turmoil inside me explodes.

"Look at you… so pathetic!" I hiss at my pitiful reflection, "Just had to say the wrong thing didn't you? Had to get him all riled up! You're so stupid! And you take it because you're weak! You deserve it, all of it! I hate you! I HATE YOU!"

I can't catch my breath as something wild and irrational fills me with pent up rage and it is all self-directed. Lashing out I smash my fist repeatedly against the tear blotched reflection in the mirror until it gives way under my relentless assault. I relish in the sharp cracking sound and the quick pain as a shard of glass cuts into the soft flesh of my palm while the rest fall in a tinkling clamor onto the counter.

For a very long time I stand there; watching the sluggish drip of crimson splatter onto the floor while my chest heaves as I waver on the brink of hyperventilating, my mind a chaotic tumble of conflicting thoughts and feelings. There is nothing to hold onto, there is no consolation to find purchase in the torrent pulling me in opposing directions. So I drift, caught in the grips of anguish, until finally a single thought manages to pull me back into the moment. He will return soon and I sure as hell do not want to be here when he does.

I grimace at the distorted face in the cracked mirror. He's going to be pissed about this as well, but at the moment I'm more concerned about how I'm going to get home. It's too far to walk, I don't have money for a bus and I can't take the tram looking like a horror movie extra. My face is a mess, my make up is smeared and small flecks of blood dot my pale blue dress… No, it's definitely best not to take the public route.

While the cut on my palm is thankfully shallow, it's long and continues to trickle blood. Working hastily, I wrap my hand in a clean towel from under the cabinet and try to formulate an excuse. It needs to be something simple like… like… washing dishes. The glass I was cleaning broke and it cut my hand. That sort of thing happens all the time. It sounds totally plausible.

Listening carefully for any sound, I hurry to the living room and quickly find my purse. Pulling out my cell phone I call Miroku. After nine rings and no answer I give up. Reluctantly I resort to my second option. This time it only takes three rings and then I'm greeted with a gruff, "Hey?"

"Inuysaha… it's me," despite the effort my voice trembles.

Naturally he notices. "What's wrong?"

"Are you busy right now?"

I could practically hear his frown as he answers, "No. Why? What the hell's going on?"

"I need a ride home. I hate to bother you, I really-"

"Where are you?" He asks, cutting me off impatiently.

"At Suikotsu's apartment," There's a hesitation on his end and I'm not sure I want to know what's going through his mind. Before he can ask what he must be thinking, I explain, "Long story short, we had another fight and he stormed out. I'm not staying here tonight. I tried Miroku but he didn't answer. If you can't come it's okay. I'll call Ayumi."

"Look, I'm coming all right. Don't get your knickers in a twist wench," he grouses mildly, "Just sit tight. I'm on my way."

"Do you know how to get here?"

"Yeah, unfortunately I know where money bags lives. I'll be there in twenty." And with that he ends the call.

The swanky apartment building is located in the upscale section of downtown. Rather than have Inuyasha go through the process of bypassing the doorman and take the chance of Suikotsu finding out I'd had a male visitor not long after he left, I wait for Inuyasha on the corner. I'm far too shaken and upset to find the strange stares of passers-by remotely amusing, though as disheveled as I must appear I can only imagine what they are thinking.

Of course, the look on Inuysha's face as he takes in my appearance makes me wonder if I should have taken my chances with public transit after all.

"What the fuck happened?" He snarls before I even have the car door all the way open. "You're bleeding…"

I flinch away from the fury that contorts his handsome features into an expression inherently chilling.

"Did he do that? I'll fucking gut the son of a bitch! I swear I'll rip his goddamn head off."

I get in the passenger seat careful to hide my tender cheek. When Inuyasha begins to growl I squeeze my eyes shut in a gesture of frustration. "If you'd chill out for a minute I'll tell you what happened," It is harder to lie if I look at him and his temper is the last thing I'm in the mood to deal with tonight. "Will you drive already."

But the car remains idling at the curb. He doesn't move a muscle as he glares at me out of the corner of his eye, his hands locked in a white knuckled grip around the steering wheel.

I sigh, my hand falling to my lap a I lean my head back and look up to the ceiling. "It was a stupid argument. I was washing a glass and he had me so upset that I dropped it in the sink. I cut myself cleaning it up. No big deal. I don't even need stitches. I just want to go home before he comes back. Please…"

I didn't add that I'd rather not be seen sitting in his car.

"Keh, no stitches? I'll be the judge of that." He says, only slightly mollified by my improvisational lie. I don't resist as he takes my hand and gently pries the towel loose. After a quick examination he grunts, "Not as bad as I thought, considering."

"Yeah well you know me, clumsy with a capitol C." I joke, pulling my hand free of his light grip. It sounds lame even to me. I don't miss his skeptical glance.

"Oi, you sure you want to go home? If your dad sees you looking like that…" He trails off, worried.

"Yeah right," I scoff, "He'll blame me for being obstinate, tell me I should make amends and then insist I beg the ancestors that Suikotsu will take me back even though I don't deserve it because he's been more than patient." I shake my head, flashing him a rueful grin. "On second thought, maybe I won't go home."

If Inuyasha is surprised by what I admit he doesn't show it. Instead he smirks as if he's known my answer all along. "Where to then?"

"Don't know," I shrugged, "Some place quiet."

Nothing more is said as Inuyasha begins to drive. I keep my gaze on the passing street lights, letting my brain soak in the ever changing colors of the city lit up just after dark. It's easier not to think, my insides don't feel quite so jittery if I just watch out of the window and enjoy the silence. And I don't really care about our destination. It's more than enough just to be with him.

He doesn't judge me and even though he worries about me, he doesn't make things worse by sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. He just lets me be myself and that's a comfort I don't get very often.

If I used such comparisons to justify my feelings for Inuyasha then it's easy to see why I crave his presence. He is a good friend, maybe my very best friend. And he's honest. Egotistical, definitely. Rude, sometimes. Hot headed, more than ever. But despite his forgivable flaws, he's real. More real than most of the people I associate with, even more real than my other so-called friends.

The part that isn't so simple goes far deeper than companionship. And still it confuses me because I don't want to care about Inuysaha. I've tried, goodness how I've tried to let the past go. But it seems as if I can't forget that I'd once adored him with all my young heart. And it had been crushed to pieces when he'd left.

Still to this day I don't know the details about what had happened six years ago. Even Miroku won't talk about that night. The little I do know is that it involved the police and two boys in Miroku and Inuysaha's circle of friends had ended up in a juvenile center. My father had been so angry he'd nearly disowned Miroku. Apparently Inuyasha's mother didn't have the same qualms abut her sixteen year old son and had sent him packing to live with his father less than a week later.

After that I hadn't seen Inuyasha again for four years.

At the time I'd been heart broke that he was leaving but I naively assumed he'd keep in touch. When he'd come to my window the night before his morning flight, I'd been ecstatic and had given into his heated attentions without hesitation. I gave him my virginity because I'd thought he loved me. Now I can look back and see our first and only time for what it was. He was driven by hormones and I'd been too willing.

Looking back, I could hardly blame him for taking advantage of the situation. I'd practically thrown myself at him. That was the only time I've completely broken the rules. Of course, at fourteen I'd been convinced I was in love. I refuse to use that excuse now.

But there is no now. He's just one of my best friends. Nothing more.

"You know," I whisper, "I'll hardly see you once I'm married."

He doesn't respond at first. I almost fear he won't comment, but then he sighs, "I kinda figured that."

"Will you miss me?" I ask. A heated blush suffuses my face and I wish more than anything I'd kept my mouth shut. It's a stupid question. It's an answer I'm better off not knowing.

"Yeah." His eyes never stray from the road.

"Poor you. Whatever will you do without me aggravating you all the time?" I quip. It is easier to hide the vulnerability eating at me if I make light of it. I would rather die before admitting that I'll miss him more.

"Guess I'll have to get hitched too," he shoots back, "Kikyou would just love that."

Stupid! You just had to ask didn't you!

A horrible feeling settles in my stomach. Suddenly his presence isn't a comfort anymore.

"Are you going to ask her?" The words burn my throat.

He snorts, "Not tonight."

"I'm being serious, are you?"

I watch him intently from the corner of my eye. He's frowning, staring at the road ahead as if it's a complicated maze. All traces of teasing are gone and I can tell my question has unsettled him.

"She's hinted at it…" he admits, obviously choosing his words carefully, "But we… I don't think… it's a good idea. I mean, we fight all the time. And I'm not sure I want that… ya know?" He hesitates, as if debating on saying more, and then growls, "You shouldn't marry him Kagome. I don't like him. Never did. He's not good for you and you're not happy. I don't care how much money he's got, or how many blue-bloods he knows, the douchebag doesn't deserve you. And that's the honest truth so don't get pissed at me for saying it."

"Inuyasha…?"

"What?" He snaps defensively, "I can't pass my goddamn opinion!"

I shake my head, more than a little confused, and look down at the sparkly diamond on my left hand, "I wish it were that simple."

"It is that simple. Give the bastard the ring back. Tell him to shove it up his ass. And that's that. No more money bags." He insists. There's a sharp edge to his words, a note in the clipped way he speaks that hints at something more than just defensiveness. It's more like desperation.

I long to ask him why. Why does he sound so certain? How can he be so sure? It's true, he'd never liked Suikotsu, but no one else seems to share his views. And certainly not about our engagement. Did he feel that way because he was worried? Or was it more…

Was he jealous?

Don't be an idiot. You're the only one who's jealous and you have no right to be.

I want to hope. Despite everything I want Inuyasha to want me. I want to know that he can't forget the past either. And because I want it, I fear it. He's not free and I refuse to be his distraction. I can't afford to play games with him. There isn't enough of me left intact to even try.

Tracing my fingertip over the glittering diamond, I shiver. Memories of earlier this evening dance in the jewel's surface. I'm bound. There's no getting out of it now.

Unable to hide the defeat creeping into my voice, I don't dare look at Inuyasha as I say, "I think you better bring me home."

It's getting harder for me to lie to myself. Usually it isn't a problem. What I can't acknowledge I simply omit, even from my own recollections. But the unwelcome conversation with Inuyasha refuses to drift away into the obscure.

He hadn't broached the subject again on rest of the drive to my house. In fact, he'd said nothing more at all and now I wonder if he felt he'd said too much. He'd never spoken so strongly against Suikotsu before, at least not where my future was concerned.

I tell myself it doesn't matter, push the wayward thoughts away and allow myself to recall the pain I'd felt at Inuyasha's absence. And still those foolish little "why's" and "what if's" keep creeping into my awareness undermining my comfortable numbness. I don't want to imagine a different future than one already set for me. Why would I, when I shudder to imagine the future at all?

But I can change it, can't I? That's what Inuyasha was trying to tell me. I can live my own life. I really can.

But to what purpose? Inuyasha will never be a part of my life the way I hopelessly want him to be. At least with the way things stand now I won't be alone.

Besides, Suikotsu would never in a million years allow me to walk away. I'm afraid he might end up really hurting me this time. Is taking that kind of risk worth the possible danger? Then again, how long before his anger goes too far and he ends my wretched existence anyway?

I just don't have the heart to rise above the lie. The truth can hurt far worse than my precious little illusions.

No matter how I look at it, I lose.

Miroku has eyed me curiously all through dinner. Sometimes I forget that my brother can be exceptionally observant and his curious looks have been grating on my nerves all evening. He and Sango came the house tonight to visit the family and usually it's a non momentous affair but the topic of conversation tonight is my recent engagement and I've been uneasy the whole time.

I thought I was hiding it rather well until I caught Miroku watching me.

When Sango offers to help Mama with the dishes and Dad ushers Souta into the living room to continue going over his homework, Miroku takes me by the arm and leads me outside. We take a seat facing each other, my expression wary and his filled with concern.

"Spill it Sis, what's wrong?"

I feign ignorance. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't bullshit me," he warns in his big brother tone. "The wedding has you upset and I'm worried about you."

I love my brother dearly. I trust him implicitly. The little girl in me wants to cry into his shoulder and tell him everything because he'll make it better just like he used to when we were kids. The adult that I am, however, knows that this is something that I have to keep to myself.

"I'm just overwhelmed, you know. It's a lot to think about," I offer, admitting that partial truth.

"No it's not just the wedding. This has been going on for a while now," he insists, his dark blue eyes flashing, "Whatever is going on, I'm there for you. You can tell me anything."

"I know…" I hate the sting of hot tears that well in my eyes.

"So talk to me," he grins encouragingly.

"I don't love him."

Even as the words leave my lips I feel stark panic overtake me. I hadn't really meant to say that… or maybe I did. I'm scared to say more because I might just confess everything that I've kept bottled up for so long.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Miroku says sadly.

"But I should because he's prefect for me," I force out the words, "Everyone knows that."

"Doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. If you don't love him then you shouldn't marry him. It's that simple."

He sounds like Inuyasha and my heart twists painfully. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"No it's really not. Trust me, it's better to call off the engagement now than to deal with a messy divorce in a few years because you made yourself settle for less," he reasons, thinking of financial and emotional upheaval.

I'm thinking blood and pain.

Suddenly something occurs to me that I'd never really contemplated before. If I told Miroku the truth, if he knew how much Suikotsu had hurt me, he would go after my fiancé. My brother is that loyal and protective. It's not for Suikotsu's sake that I'm afraid, it's Miroku's.

Playing up a different perspective, with a nervous laugh I ask, "Can you imagine the drama that would blow out of proportion if I were to back out now? Not to mention Dad would have a coronary."

"With all due respect, fuck what Dad wants. This is your life. You should make the choices that are best for you."

He makes it seem easy. Even more frightening, he makes the idea feel possible.

"Wow, now you sound like you're quoting a self help book," I tease to diffuse the tension of the conversation.

"Maybe I should write one. Seems like all I do is give advice lately," Miroku chuckles. "Now that I think about it, I had a similar conversation with Inuyasha last week. Apparently he and Kikyou are on the rocks again. I told him the same thing. If you're not happy then find what will make you happy and go for it."

It's none of my business. I shouldn't ask…

"Are they splitting up?"

He shrugs, "Hell if I know. Sometimes I think he really cares about Kikyou but then sometimes I wonder of he's just killing time with her, waiting for something better."

Killing time and waiting for something better… Those words don't sit well for a multitude of reasons.

"He told me about the fight you had with Suikotsu and giving you a lift home," Miroku says bringing the subject back full circle, "He's worried about you too."

I don't want to be reminded of Inuyasha's platonic affections. My lips turn down in a sour smile, "I guess we all have our problems to deal with, don't we?"

"Yeah, I suppose," Miroku gives me a pointed glare. "Think about your options okay. You have a lot of people who love you and would back you up in a heartbeat. Do what you need to do, alright."

I nod, but despite Miroku's well-meaning I know that sometimes all the love in the world just isn't enough.

I receive a text from Inuyasha in the middle of my only class of the day.

Picking u up. Don't be late.

Instantly I get the feeling that something is wrong and it progressively worsens as the clock ticks away the minutes with exaggerated slowness. I ignore the questioning glances that Yuka casts my way and when the professor finally dismisses the class I gather my things in such a rush that Yuka has to hurry to keep up.

"Slow down, Kagome!" she complains loudly as she meets up with me outside the lecture hall.

"Sorry," I amend, slowing my pace enough for her to walk beside me. "I'm going to pass on coffee today. Something's come up."

"Oh, okay. No big deal," she replies breezily, her expression avidly curious, "Everything alright?"

"Yup." I spot Inuyasha's car idling by the curb and wave her off absently. "I'll catch up with you later."

I climb into the passenger seat and turn my attention from Yuka's suspicious scrutiny to the glowering hanyou sitting beside me. My stomach drops as I take in the way his fists are clenching the steering wheel and his furry ears are flicking back and forth in obvious agitation. The faint growl rumbling in his chest tells me all I needed to know.

Inuyasha is furious.

"Want me to drive?" I ask cautiously.

"No. Buckle up," he snarls as he pulls the car into traffic with a slight squeal of the tires.

I keep quiet and worry my lip between my teeth as a million guesses as to why he's so angry float across my mind. The one common denominator in almost all scenarios is Kikyou.

When he begins taking a back road that leads toward the mountains I finally give in and ask, "So what did she do this time?"

"The goddamn fucking bitch-" he snarls viciously but cuts short to concentrate as he takes a steep curve a bit faster than I'd like. Taking a deep breath he eases off the gas a little as relaxes his death grip on the wheel. "I wasn't going to dump this crap on you. I just need you to keep me company until I calm down so I don't do something stupid."

Neither of us says anything else and after nearly a half an hour of driving Inuyasha stops the car at a tourist rest area that is the central hub for several popular hiking paths. He ignores the people with cameras and fanny-packs milling about and steers me away from the actual trails as we head off into the brush and foliage. There are several spots around the base of this slope that are frequented by the local youth that you won't find on any commercial map but I have a feeling he's just walking aimlessly until we find someplace away from everything.

After a time we finally come to a small outcropping of boulders and bushes that overlook a picturesque view of the city below. I take a seat on one of the rocks and look out over the midday horizon as Inuyasha takes to pacing to relieve his frustration. I wait for him to speak.

"She's been cheating on me."

For a moment I'm stunned, then comes the rush of sympathy at his distress and then the traitorous twinge of hope that he might let her go. I smother the last emotion before I even fully acknowledge it.

"I'm so sorry," I offer gently.

"Feh! I knew something was up. I'm not completely stupid but I guess I didn't think she'd lie to me like that. I mean, if you really give a damn about someone then how can you look that person in the eye and straight up fucking lie?"

I swallow hard thinking of my clever little deceptions and realize that it's not that hard when properly motivated. I feel guilty that he's venting about one lair to another.

I'm careful to keep the waver from my voice and answer as honestly as I dare, "Some people can, I guess. I assume she gave you reasons."

"It's all my fault, of course," he growls harshly, "I took her for granted. I didn't give her enough attention. I didn't want to settle down. The usual bullshit that we fought about. Yet she was the one that didn't want to get a place together. She was the one that kept putting off introducing me to her family." He flops down beside me, his expression a full on pout as he rakes a clawed hand through his messy hair, "It was her fucking idea to take night classes when she knew damn well I fucking work all day, but I never had time for her. Is that fucked up or what?"

I give his shoulder a squeeze in a gesture of comfort. "Sounds to me like she was looking for excuses."

He nods, staring at the ground thoughtfully and then huffs, raising his troubled amber gaze to meet mine, "You know what's even more fucked up?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm pissed because she lied and made an ass out of me. But if she'd just sucked it up and said she wanted out I could've respected that. Hell, I would've agreed with her. It wasn't working and we both knew it. But I kept trying because she wanted to. And now I find out it's all been a waste of fucking time."

I understand his sentiment but it would be the ultimate hypocrisy on my part if I were to condemn Kikyou for being a coward when she and I are apparently not so different. Instead of agreeing, I take the masochistic route and hope my voice doesn't betray my bitterness. "If you loved her then it wasn't a complete waste."

"I care about her but it's not love. I thought that maybe with time…" Inuyasha looks away, his own bitterness betrayed in his grimace, "You can't make yourself love someone. Now I know."

I hate the miserable slump of his shoulders and the tiredness seeping into his golden eyes. He seems so much older than his twenty-two years. It's like looking at myself.

Sadly, I admit, "Sometimes I wonder if I know what love is. I thought I did once…" I let the words trail off as his gaze slants back to mine, measuring. Fighting a blush, I tuck my hair behind my ear and muster all my courage to ask, "Have you ever been in love?"

Something crosses his face, an emotion I can almost name, and for some reason it sends my heart racing as his eyes skitter away from my face. "Yeah," he says softly, "Once."

I wish he would look at me again because I need to know what I saw there, lurking in his expression. I need to know because I swear I've seen that look on my own face. "Inuya-"

My cell phone rings interrupting what I was going to say, ruining the moment and my sense of calm as I instantly recognize the ring tone. "It's Suikotsu," I wince apologetically as I extricate the offending phone from my jean pocket. Inuyasha snarls a string of colorful curses and takes to pacing again as I answer reluctantly, "Hello."

"Hey sweetheart," Suikotsu greets pleasantly, "Everything alright?"

"Um, yes… yes I'm fine. What's up?"

He ignores my question. "Where are you?"

A knot of fear begins to curl in my gut. "I'm visiting with a friend."

"Ahh, I see," he replies calmly. Too calmly. "Does this friend have a name?"

It might be better if I don't lie so for once I tell the truth. "I'm with Inuyasha. He and Kikyou are having issues and he needed to talk to someone."

"Oh, well that explains things," he laughs dryly. "See, funny thing is, I ran into Yuka here at the hospital- her father is a colleague of mine if you recall- and she told me you had left the university today in quite a rush and rode off with a strange man. I can see why she would refer to that delinquent as strange."

"You know Yuka exaggerates," I reply lightly, ignoring Inuyasha's offended "I heard that fucker," in the back ground because he can hear every bit of our conversation with his enhanced hearing.

"Yes, but she was right to be concerned. A woman with a fiancé shouldn't be gallivanting around with another man, but we can discuss that in more detail later."

There is a great deal of threat in what he doesn't say and my hands begin to shake. "Okay."

"How much longer will you be occupied? I'm looking forward to seeing you."

Swallowing hard, I acquiesce, "I'll be over in little while, promise."

"Don't keep me waiting, love."

My movements are robotic as I end the call and place the phone back in my pocket. I don't want to think about what Suikotsu is going to do when he gets his hands on me. I can't handle that right now. I have an image to uphold.

Forcing a smile, I look up at Inuyasha only to find him watching me with a worried frown marring his brow and his nose is wrinkled as if he smells something bad. Cocking his head slightly, he demands, "Why do you smell afraid?"

Just like with Miroku, the urge to tell him everything is right there beneath the surface clawing to come out. I know without a doubt I could start at the beginning and let all the poison spill out of me and finally be done with this festering void of lies and hurt that is slowly consuming me. I wonder if he would think less of me for sinking this low. But I know Inuyasha and his only thought would be to protect me.

Tell him, idiot! Tell him everything…

But I can't. Inuyasha has enough on his mind with his own problems. I won't become another one, not if I can help it.

"Kagome?"

"I'm fine. I'm not afraid, I'm just worried about you. Are you going to be okay?" I ask out of both genuine concern and a need to redirect his attention.

His intense expression softens at the edges as he sighs, "Keh, I'm not going to cause anyone bodily harm, so yeah, I'll be okay."

"I hate to leave you," I admit ruefully, since Inuyasha doesn't understand the many ways in which I mean that.

"Don't worry about it," he says, brushing off my regret impatiently. "Come on, we don't want to keep money bags waiting."

A.N.- I'm dedicating this chapter to Wenchster. She sent me a nice little pm which in turn prompted me to finally finish this chapter. Thanks honey for being so totally awesome.