Guess who's back?

Okay, so I guess it wasn't really all that long of a break when you include "The Pridelanders" too, but I'm referring more to the fact that it's been nearly three months since I updated this particular story. And quite honestly...I don't think this chapter is as good as the previous one. I mean, it's got a few lines I'm proud of, but there wasn't really any opportunity to get a really long conversation going, so there isn't really any of what was popular in the previous chapter. But then again, I didn't think the last chapter was any good either, and that one turned out pretty good, so...yeah. You should probably just ignore my ramblings in the future.

So, this is where an actual plot beings to take shape (which is good). And I suppose it's also worth mentioning that this chapter marks the first time I have ever actually used the word "sex" in one of my stories! That means I'm mature or something, right? Let's go with that.

Chapter 2: An Awkward Morning

Daybreak arrived with a flourish of red and gold, the sunlight lazily stretching over the faded grasses of the African savannah and casting long shadows behind everything it touched. As the sun began to crest over the horizon, the Pridelands gradually came to life. Herds of animals tall and small emerged from their respective dens and burrows, yawning and squinting in the bright morning light. But one creature in particular, a wiry baboon with sleek gray hair and a face streaked with bold hues of blue and red, showed no signs of early morning fatigue. In fact, he had already been awake for almost an hour.

Rafiki set a lively pace through the grasslands, humming a lively tune to himself and keeping a tight grip on the thick wooden staff in his right hand. Tied to the end of the stick were the fruits of the previous night's labors: a varied assortment of natural herbs and berries destined to be made into ingredients for his medicines and accompaniments to his next meal. He had only meant to be gone for an hour or two before sunset, but he'd happened upon a massive bush that was heavy with the deliciously ripe berries he now had stored in a pouch tied to his staff, and he simply couldn't resist their alluring scent. And then, the evening weather had been so delightfully warm that he had decided to go ahead and spend the whole night lying out under the stars. If anyone were to ever accuse Rafiki of being an impulsive creature, he would be the first to agree.

But now it was time to return to his tree and get ready for the coming day. After all, he was the only medicine monkey for ten miles, and certainly the only creature within fifty who knew as much about the healing powers of the earth and its natural gifts. He didn't get many chances to relax; come to think of it, that was probably why he had been so quick to do so the night before. Life worked in mysterious ways, he supposed, and that was just fine with him.

It wasn't a long walk back to the twisted and homely baobab tree that Rafiki called home, and so it was just a few minutes later when the eccentric shaman found himself at its base. As he gripped his staff in his teeth and flexed the fingers on all four of his hands, Rafiki noticed a series of rough gouges in the gnarled bark. The newly exposed wood beneath was still fresh; someone had obviously paid him an unscheduled visit last night. A lion, by the size of the scuff marks, perhaps even two. A wry smile flitted across the monkey's face as he identified the source of the scratches. He only knew of one lion likely to take matters into his own paws like that. Simba may have changed a lot in the last four years, but one thing he certainly still retained from his cubhood was his impatience. And if Simba had been here, Nala couldn't have been far behind. Which meant they'd probably both been up in the top of the tree at one point or another.

And which also meant that he probably had one hell of a mess to clean up in the top of the tree.

Rafiki's suspicions were confirmed a moment later as he shimmied up the trunk and entered the loft perched at its very center. The damage wasn't as bad as he'd feared, but the shattered remnants of one of his prized bowls lay in plain sight near the far corner. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Rafiki propped up his staff against a sturdy branch and got to work cleaning up the mess.

As Rafiki swept away what was once an intricately carved resin-stained container, he began to wonder what had become of its contents. There was nothing left of it that he could see…it must have been one of the powders he had ground up last week. Rafiki sighed again. It had taken him two entire days to make those powders. Well, at least it was only one gone. Seeing as he'd had two full-grown lions poking around his living space, he was lucky the baobab was even still standing.

Once the bowl was cleared away, Rafiki stood up and began to turn around. He'd have to take inventory of his remaining medicines to see which one had gone missing. But before he could make his way over to the spiraling branches that contained his life's work, an odd feeling swept over him and made him stop dead in his tracks. There was something peculiar about the tree, something he couldn't quite identify. A strange smell, familiar but somehow utterly foreign as well. He inhaled deeply, and the scent of fresh sap flooded his senses. His tree was much too old to be producing enough sap to make that strong of a smell. Where was it coming from?

Rafiki looked down at the wood between his lower hands. He saw it immediately: a few inches in front of the fourth finger on his right hand was an irregular white spot of fresh, young wood surrounded by the ancient wood of the baobab that had been sanded smooth by years of wear and tear. A puzzled grimace overtook the baboon's face. The spot cut right through the numerous rings of the tree's trunk, and there was no sign that the sections covered by the blemish had ever been there at all. How was this possible?

The answer hit Rafiki like a punch in the stomach. He'd only ever seen something like this happen once: he had eaten one too many miracle berries and drank a little too much of a delightful concoction he'd made from them, and the next thing he knew it was morning and he had a sore back, a splitting headache, and a whole bowlful of gooey translucent liquid, the origins of which he could only guess at. A few tests on local plants and bugs had shown the substance's horrifying power in vivid detail, and that very same day he'd hidden the bowl away at the very top of his tree, so that no creature, including himself, would ever be able to reach it. In a flash, Rafiki clambered up the rough boughs of the tree until he could see the lofty branch where he had last seen the bowl of mysterious liquid. The liquid and the bowl were gone.

The branch was empty.

For the first time in a long time, Rafiki swore. No wonder the bowl had broken; it must have fallen all the way down from the very top of the tree. And the gods only knew where the rest of the potion inside had gotten to. All he had been able to find were just a few drops in his tree.

Rafiki took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. The wind probably knocked the bowl off the top of the tree, so the wind had probably carried the droplets all across the Pridelands. That wasn't too bad. It wasn't as if a single drop of the stuff could do any real harm…

Then, a second realization nearly caused Rafiki's legs to fall out from under him. The wind couldn't have blown the bowl down. It was much too heavy, and he'd made sure to wedge it tightly into a crook in the branch. It would've taken a force much more powerful than the wind to dislodge…like the weight of an adult lion.

Or the weight of two very specific adult lions that just so happened to make up the entire royal family of the Pridelands.

Rafiki swore again and slid down the baobab's trunk all the way to the ground, grabbing the staff along the way. He had to see for himself whether his fears about the final resting place of the potion were right. If they weren't, he could rest easy knowing that Simba and Nala were safe. But if they were…Aiheu help them. Aiheu help the kingdom.

And most of all, Aiheu help him.

• • •

Nala awoke slowly, though it was more out of enjoyment of the morning than reluctance to get up. This was her favorite part of the day; it always has been. The den would still be warm from all of the sleeping bodies contained in it, the air outside would be cold but refreshing, and the sun would be cresting over the horizon in an elaborate and spectacular display of the earth's natural beauty. It was in these few precious moments that she felt completely at peace. The hassles of the day wouldn't begin for a few more seconds, and she could lie here and savor that innocent sense of well-being without having to give any thought to any of them. It was wonderful.

Sometimes, Simba would still be asleep beside her, and she would be able to nestle herself back into his chest and drift back off as a sluggish spark of devotion danced down her spine. But most of the time, he would be up with or even before the sun. He had always been an early riser, and ever since he became king it seemed like there was always something for him to take care of. But he hadn't faltered under the pressure; in fact, he seemed to enjoy it. Nala guessed it was because he wanted to make up for all the years he'd wasted out in the jungle with Timon and Pumbaa.

This was one of those mornings. As soon as she became aware of the smooth rock beneath her, she also became aware of the significant lack of body heat that would have revealed the presence of her mate. Well, that couldn't be helped. She should be glad that her lifelong partner cared as much about his royal duties as he did his mate. She should be grateful that he was so dedicated to his job.

But as usual, the little voice inside her head telling her what she should be grateful for wasn't very convincing.

Nala yawned and tried to stretch, but quickly discovered that her front legs were weighed down by something warm and fuzzy. She glanced down toward her toes and saw a furry, yellow-tinged head draped across her ankles. It was a lion cub, a boy by the looks of the messy tuft on top of his head, with black-rimmed ears and a tiny nose currently embedded in the downy fur lining her neck. He must have fallen asleep there during the night.

Nala smiled to herself and gave the cub a gentle lick on the forehead. He seemed familiar somehow; he probably belonged to one of the other lionesses in the hunting party. Scar hadn't devoted much thought to keeping rogues out of the Pridelands during his reign, and as a result many of the lionesses had borne litters of cubs over the past few years. Simba hadn't minded the cubs when he took over; he knew from experience what it was like to be separated from your parents at such a young age, so he had been quite happy to let all the cubs stay around. And because of the close bonds the lionesses had formed with each other under Scar's oppressive rule, their cubs generally thought of all the lionesses as their mothers. Nowadays, the cubs slept almost anywhere they wanted to. It wasn't uncommon to wake up with a cub or even two or three cuddled up next to you.

Nala yawned again. She was fully awake now. Might as well get up. After gently freeing her paws from the grasp of the cub, the queen of Pride Rock got to her feet and took a deep breath, shivering a bit as the crisp morning air reached her lungs. It was colder than usual, had been all week. There wasn't much Nala hated more than being cold. Except for cramping up during a hunt. And maybe spiders.

The fluffy white clouds that had dominated the horizon the day before had dissipated overnight. As Nala stepped out of the den and onto the base of the giant promontory that distinguished her lifelong home from the surrounding landscape, all she could see above her was a sea of seamless blue and gold sky. With nothing to obscure it, the light from the rising sun was intense, but the beige lioness could still see well enough to make it out to the tip of the promontory, where she gingerly lied down on the chilly rust-colored rock. Maybe she could see where Simba went off to from up here.

Nala's gaze drifted lazily around the Pridelands. Bountiful green and yellow grasses stretched into the horizon as far as she could see, but nowhere among them could she spot a flash of red mane or golden fur. The watering hole was empty as well, with only a few straggling members of the nearby zebra and wildebeest herds languishing by the edge of the rippling blue-tinted lake.

Nala tried to hold in her disappointed sigh, and gave up on the effort a few moments later. If Simba was this far away already, he'd probably be gone the whole day. And when or possibly even if he got back that night, he'd probably fall asleep right away. And after a whole day of hunting and dealing with the responsibilities of being queen…well, wasn't it fair to want to unwind a little bit? A tiny voice in he back of Nala's mind told her she was being selfish, but a much bigger voice was beyond caring about that right now. She'd already lost him once; now, she didn't ever want him to leave.

Nala sighed again. Come on, girl, she told herself. It's all in the past now. He's not going anywhere…he'll be back tonight. Think about something else. Like…hunting. Think about hunting. Think about crouching down and being one with the earth, and that split second before the kill where you and your prey are the only things left on earth. Think about taking that nice, big zebra back home, and watching all the cubs' faces light up, and watching his eyes twinkle as you try not to look…

Screw it. I'm hopeless. He better get back soon.

The pattering of little paws behind her brought Nala out of her reverie. As she glanced back towards the noise, she saw the cub that had been sleeping beside her step out of the den, blinking and yawning in the glow of the morning sun. Seemingly without noticing her, he meandered out of the tip of the promontory and lied down by her side. Out here in the light, he looked even more familiar. Nala tried to connect a name with the stocky but still innocent face beside her, but came up blank.

After a moment of silence, the cub turned to look at her. "You know, I've seen this sunrise a million times, and it still never gets old," he said warmly, his voice bold and slightly raspy with a definite twang to it. Nala nodded, but her attention was still focused on her mental search for the cub's identity. That voice sounded so familiar, but she couldn't have come up with the child's name if her life had depended on it. He had kind of a cheeky air about him…maybe he was one of Hima's cubs? No, hers were older than this one…this cub couldn't have been more than nine months.

"Of course, I'll probably be bored out of my mind in ten minutes anyway," the cub continued with a smile. "Guess some things never change, huh?"

"I guess so," Nala replied. He definitely belonged to Sikiva. He was too well-spoken to have anyone but her as his mother. But then again, she was so uptight, and he seemed like such a free spirit...

"You remember when you used to spend all morning trying to drag me out to see this?" the cub asked. Before he saw Nala's quizzical stare, he was talking again. "Gods, you drove me insane doing that…"

Doing what now?

"And then all of a sudden, I couldn't get enough of it. Now I feel like the sunrise is…it's different, y'know? I mean, before it just meant it was time to get up, but now it's how I know I'm home. It's how I know I get to come outside and see the Pridelands, and all the herds and the grasses and the watering holes." The cub glanced up at Nala, and smiled again. "It's how I know I get to come outside and see you."

Nala chuckled and returned the cub's smile. Despite how strange his previous statement had been, she couldn't help but be a little flattered. She had an admirer. She must be a better queen that she'd thought.

"But I gotta say, I think I like the sunset better," said her companion out on the promontory as he turned back towards the radiant horizon. "It's when everything comes alive again one last time. It's warm, it's calming, it's beautiful...and then, of course, there's the night life."

The cub swiveled his head around and gazed straight into her eyes, an eerily knowing look spilling out of his own auburn pair. "Like last night's night life."

A tiny pang of apprehension flashed through Nala's belly, and she shifted uncomfortably. Why was he looking at her like that?

"What do you mean?" she asked.

An impish grin spread across the cub's face. "Oh, come on, don't tell me you forgot already," he laughed as he gave Nala a playful nudge in the shoulder. "I thought you were having fun?"

The knot in the elder lioness's stomach grew. "What…"

"No?" the cub went on. "Well, that can be fixed easily enough…" he added in a sultry voice.

Oh, gods above, he is not talking about…

"What d'you say, babe?" the cub finished. "You feel like having some more fun today?"

Oh, gods above, he is.

"Excuse me?" Nala nearly shouted. Half of her was shocked at how twisted the little cub's brain, but the other half was just pissed off at what he had taken her for. Did he really think she could be seduced that easily?

A look of utter confusion overtook the cub's face. "What?" he asked in a puzzled voice. "What did I say?"

"You know exactly what you said! Don't you know better than that?"

"What, asking for sex is bad?"

"Yes!"

Now the cub was more incredulous than confused. "Since when?"

"Since…just forget it! Where's your mother?"

"Probably still asleep. What d'you need to see her for?"

"I'm going to inform her of what her son has been thinking about doing to the queen of Pride Rock."

The cub rolled his eyes. "Well, considering I'm married to the queen of Pride Rock, I doubt she'll be very surprised."

Another wave of shock briefly silenced the lioness, but revulsion quickly overrode it. "You're…what?"

"Married, Nala. To you. At a big, gigantic ceremony with every lion within twenty miles in attendance, where I forgot my vows and Timon got into the bug juice and spent the whole night singing "Kumbaya" at the top of his lungs. That wedding?"

"And you really expect me to believe that you were the groom?"

"Well…yeah," the cub said in a tone one would normally reserve for someone with slight brain damage. "'Cause I kinda was."

"I can't believe you! What would possibly make you think we're married?"

"Oh, for the love of the gods, Nala…" the cub growled. "This isn't funny. I'm sorry, okay? Now will you please stop playing around?"

All right. That's it. He dies now.

Nala narrowed her gaze and leaned toward the cub until nose was less than an inch away from his. "Let's get one thing straight, okay?" she hissed in a slow, dangerous tone that usually made Simba's voice rise a couple octaves wherever she used it around him. "You are a cub, and I am an adult. I am not married to you, and you are not married to me. You are out of line, and by the end of this I am going to make sure that you know that."

"Think that was three things, actually…"

"You are asking for it, mister!"

"Define 'it' again?"

Instead of replying, Nala just growled deep in her throat. She was done trying to reason with this indignant little bastard. He didn't need to be reasoned with; he needed to be castrated. She opened her jaws and clamped them around the nape of the cub's neck, intending to take him straight to his mother, or to the edge of the nearest cliff. Preferably the latter. But before she could get a good grip, the cub squirmed away, stumbling and rolling onto his back in the process.

"What are hell are you doing?" he shouted, his patience clearly taxed.

"Well, assuming I don't kill you first, I'm taking you straight to your mother, and I don't care if she's in a damn coma. She's going to hear about this," she answered as she stalked toward him, the cub scooting away with his back legs all the while. Finally, she caught up to him and pinned him down with a forepaw to the chest. "And after that, I think the king might want to hear what you've said to his wife," she added with a malicious smirk. With that, she bent down and grabbed the cub around the neck again, this time making sure to bite hard enough to keep his neck sore for weeks. This little punk had no idea who he was getting into. Simba got worried when she stubbed a toe hunting; if he knew what this disrespectful rat had said to her, he'd…

Okay, he'd probably throw up laughing first. But then he'd be angry. Or else.

"Just wait till Simba gets home…" she murmured through the cub's fur as she began to lift him off the ground.

The cub coughed, stuttered, then finally got one last sentence out. "Wha…Nala!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "I am Simba!"

He was lying, of course. He had to be lying. He'd been lying this whole time. But at that exact moment, right when Nala should've just kept walking, she hesitated. Because at that exact moment, she finally recognized the cub's voice. It bubbled up from deep within her memories, from when she was a young cub: a raspy, twangy voice shouting at her to wait up, whispering in her ear once everyone else was asleep, yelling for the hyenas chasing after her to leave her alone. The voice she'd grown up with. The voice she'd once sworn she would never forget.

Simba's voice.

Nala opened her jaws and let the cub crumple onto the rocky surface of the promontory. She stared down at his prone form with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief, which he returned with a much harsher look of annoyance.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about, Nala?" he growled.

"You're Simba," she said quietly, through it was really more of a question than a statement.

The cub let his head fall back onto the stone beneath him and drug a forepaw across his eyes. "Yes, Nala," he replied. "I'm Simba."

A gut-wrenching bolt of fear shot through Nala's heart. This was Simba? How could this have happened? What was she going to do? Was she really married to a nine-month-old cub?

Okay, just…just calm down for a minute, the beige lioness thought to herself as she sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He might still be lying. Maybe I should…test him or something. Yeah, that's a good idea. And in the meantime, stop panicking. It's…unbecoming. Or whatever Mom really called it.

Nala locked eyes with the cub and stared him down as best she could. "What's my favorite color?" she asked forcefully.

The cub's eyebrows drooped into a deadpan expression. "Are you serious?"

"Answer the question!"

The cub let out a loud, frustrated sigh. "Red," he answered apathetically. "But it used to be blue until I pushed you into the watering hole and you couldn't get out for ten minutes."

Damnit. "What's your grandfather's name?"

"Ahadi. Married to Uru, father of Mufasa and Taka, also known as Scar. You want your side of the family too?"

Damnit. "What's your favorite kind of meat?"

"Impala, because it was only thing I could manage to catch when I was living with Timon and Pumbaa." Nala faltered, and the cub cocked an eyebrow. "Are we done now?"

Damnit, damnit, damnit!

Nala wracked her brains, desperately trying to think of something that only Simba could ever possibly know. Something that he never would've told anyone, and that no one but her would have ever found out about. Something that they had only shared with each other.

She needed something special. She needed a secret.

And just a few seconds later, she came up with a perfect one. Nala steadied herself and steeled her gaze. He would never be able to fake an answer to this.

"When we were cubs, what was the song we used to sing about Zazu behind his back?" she said, intensity blazing in her eyes.

For a brief moment, the cub looked confused. "What?"

"The song. We sang it a million times when he wasn't looking. You made it up just a couple weeks before your father died. What were the words?"

The cub glanced away, deep in thought. "Umm…yeah, it was, uh…something about a banana…"

"Yeah…" Nala confirmed, her heart pounding.

For a few agonizing seconds, the cub remained silent, his eyes shut and his brow tensed. Then, with some hesitation, he started to speak.

"Zazu had a banana beak, yellow as can be…"

"…and if you buried it in the ground, it'd grow into a tree. Oh, gods above, it is you," Nala finished in a single breath, stumbling back in shock. It was him. It was really him. This little, tiny cub was her husband.

She was married to a cub.

Nala sat down hard, her eyes as big as mangoes and her forepaw clamped tightly over her open mouth. A dizzying wave shock and confusion flowed down her spine and back again, and her paws felt like they were filled with sand. Her head, too, for that matter. How was this possible? Was this even possible?

Hey, maybe I'm insane. That might be it. Ha ha! I'm insane, right? Because only nutcases see things like this, right?

The cub stood up. No, Simba stood up. But he couldn't be Simba…Simba was bigger than her. Simba had a mane. Simba was strong and muscular and heavy…

Wait, she had picked him up just a second ago. With nothing but her teeth. She had picked Simba up for a second, and he wasn't heavy at all. He was light. Light as a feather.

Light as a cub.

Crap. I'm not insane.

"Nala, what the hell is wrong with you?" the cub—no, Simba—asked, still annoyed. "Why are you acting like this? What happened to you? When…"

Suddenly, he trailed off, as if something had just occurred to him. "…did you get so tall?" he finished in a bewildered mumble as he gaped up at the bottom of Nala's chin, which hung several inches above his head even when he was standing up.

Nala shook her head slowly and dropped her paw down from her mouth. She couldn't decide whether to let it fall all the way down to the ground or snap it back up over her muzzle, so she ended up letting it hover in front of her. "Simba…" she stuttered. "I-I don't really know how to tell you this, but…"

Simba's brow furrowed, then shot up back up again. He glanced to either side of his face, then down at his chest, and finally back behind him. His eyes went wide.

"Oh, gods…" he whispered, frantically rubbing the back of his neck with his paw. "It did fall out…"

Nala cringed. "Not exactly…"

Simba looked up at Nala, and for a few seconds both lioness and cub stared at each other with equally wide eyes. Then, Simba practically flew off Pride Rock, taking off in the direction of the watering hole in a full sprint. Nala had a hunch as to why he was going there: it was the only place nearby where you could see your reflection.

She considered going after him, but quickly realized that she had no chance of catching him before he reached the water. Not to mention, she was still more than a little freaked out herself. At some point during the night, the world had apparently decided to stop making sense, and now her husband was a nine-month-old cub. Aiheu only knew what was going to happen next. What if everyone else in the pride was a cub too? What if she turned into a cub?

Paralyzed by that horrible thought, Nala didn't even notice the brightly-hued monkey approaching Pride Rock just as quickly as Simba was leaving it until he skidded to a halt a few feet away from her.

"Nala!" he shouted. "Oh, thank de gods…"

"Rafiki?" Nala replied. Now Rafiki was here. Rafiki never came to Pride Rock unless someone was sick or dead.

Or pregnant.

Oh, please let someone be knocked up. Please let it just be that…

In two bounds, Rafiki was right beside her, poking and prodding her and muttering to himself. "Ow! Hey, what are you…" she began to protest before Rafiki grabbed her by the jaw and forcefully turned her head to the side.

"Do you feel nauseous? Any headaches, back pain, loss of muscle tone? How's your memory?" he asked without ever giving her a chance to answer.

"What is going on, Rafiki?" Nala screamed. Half of her wanted to beat the living daylights out of him, and the other half wanted to cry. All she wanted was a peaceful, relaxing, normal morning. Was that so much to ask for? "First I can't remember who the cub next to me is, and then he starts hitting on me, and then I find out he's my freaking husband…and now you're acting like I've got the plague!" she continued. "What is going…"

"What did you say?" Rafiki interrupted, alarm creeping into his voice. "What happened to Simba?"

"Oh, Simba. Funny you should mention Simba. You see, I went to bed last night with a nice, handsome, loving lion next to me, and when I wake up this morning, he's a foot and half tall. I don't know what it means. I don't know what any of this means. All I know is that I'm confused, I'm scared, and I would really love for someone to explain exactly how it would be possible for an adult lion to turn into a small child overnight!"

"Hey!" Rafiki shouted, grabbing the back of her neck and stroking it in what was supposed to be a pacifying gesture. So far, it wasn't working. "Where is Simba?" he asked loudly and slowly.

Nala forced another gulp of air into her lungs. "He's at the watering hole. I think he wanted to see if he was really a…"

At that exact moment, an ear-piercing scream ripped through the picturesque image around her. If it had been a normal day, Nala's first guess would've been that a young lioness had just found a giant hairy tarantula crawling up her leg, but today she knew that there was only one mouth it could've come from. Both she and Rafiki turned around towards the noise. It was coming from the watering hole.

With a heavy sigh, Rafiki turned back around and eyed Nala, a look of silent resignation crumpling his face into a scowl. "Go get Simba," he muttered. "We need to talk."

...it was rushed, wasn't it? It felt rushed...

Do I say that about everything I write, or am I imagining that? Meh, whatever. I'll be shutting up now.

As always, reviews are appreciated. If my current balance of lessening workload/dedication to writing continues at its current rate, I should have the first portion of the Pridelanders three-shot done soon.

("Soon"...what a delightfully nondescript word. I could publish that next update next year and call it "soon", couldn't I? But I wouldn't do that to you guys. Probably.)