Chapter two: Tension

"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness."-Joseph Conrad.

Tessa and Spencer walked into the round table room an hour later, having changed out of their nightclothes that they'd already been in and she in a dark red, long sleeve, button down shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt with black pantyhose and pumps- he in a regular button down and corduroys, his tie not crooked for once, and minus the sweater vest because she told him it was the color of baby barf and the texture of an old lady's wig.

"Tuck that in," she fussed.

He slapped her hands away. "Leave it alone, it's fine."

"Charlie-"

"Are you two arguing again?" She stopped to look up at Derek, smirking with one side of his mouth and drinking a cup of coffee.

"Where is every one?" Spencer asked, looking around. Only JJ and Derek were there.

JJ was putting together some files. "Hotch is on his way, and Gideon is speaking downstairs."

"I'll go see if I can get anything from him," Spencer said, jumping at the chance. Tessa knew he admired the man greatly, damn near worshiping him, and she hoped Gideon didn't hurt him.

JJ handed him a file as well as she and Derek. Spencer left for Gideon as Hotch entered the room, receiving his own file. JJ started. "They're calling him the Seattle Strangler. He keeps his victims alive for seven days. The handle you'll see in the pictures is used as a bit of a crank."

"To better control the suffocation," Tessa commented.

Derek flipped to the picture she was on, but looked over her shoulder. "Is he looking to make it last?"

"He's wanting to enjoy it," Hotch answered before she could.

"Yeah, well, physical evidence is non existent, there are no real leads, and another girl just went missing."

"Well," Hotch said, tucking the file under his arm, "let's get up in the air. Where's Gideon and Reid?" No one said anything and he rolled his eyes. "The other Reid."

"He went to go ask Gideon his opinion."

"No, we need him to come with us."

Derek tensed beside her. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Is he ready?"

Spencer had told her about Boston, and she felt guilty about being thankful it hadn't been him. He hadn't been there. Luckily, none of the BAU had been. But six agents. She couldn't imagine what was going through Gideon's mind right now.

She and Derek followed Hotch down to where Gideon and Spencer were. Gideon was the only one she had yet to meet. Derek handed Gideon a picture of the newest victim, twenty-two year old Heather Woodland. She downloaded an email right before lunch that had a time-delayed virus attached. It wiped her hard drive, leaving behind a message. For heavens sake catch me before I kill more I cannot control myself. William Heirens, The Lipstick Killer, 1945.

"He never catches them for more than seven days which means we have less than thirty-six hours to find her.

"Then we'd better get started."

"His first victim was 26 year old, Melissa Kirsh. Stab wounds, strangulation-"

Derek stopped him. "Wait a second, hold up. He stabbed her... and then strangled her to finish her off?"

"Other way around."

"Why do you think he started using the belt with the second murder?" Gideon asked.

Tessa was able to watch her brother answer, being in his element. "Strangulation with your bare hands is not as easy as one would believe. He tried, probably found that it took too long..."

"So he stabbed her instead."

"And realized it would be hours cleaning up the blood."

Derek nodded, glancing to Tessa sitting beside Spencer. "Next time, our boy's got a method- the belt."

Tessa frowned. "That can't make him very happy."

"What do you mean?" Gideon asked her.

"He can't feel their life leave them. The amount of pain and torture he inflicts would suggest he gets off on that sort of thing, but now he has to compromise for efficiency. That could cause him to lash out, either by killing more brutally or by acting different in his life that could help us. Making a mistake."

He held his hand out. "Jason Gideon."

"Elisabeth Reid. Please, call me Tessa."

Derek nudged Spencer on the way in to talk about Gideon. Tessa could tell that the man in question knew he was being questioned, but said nothing. She did, however, give Derek a look that she hoped he understood as 'cool it'.

"This is Special Agent Gideon, Special Agent Morgan, our expert on obsessional crimes, Doctors Reid and, uh, Reid, our experts on everything else."

Derek smirked. "Doctor?"

"Ancient Cultures. I asked him not to introduce me like that."

"They do with Reid so-"

She interrupted. "So people take him seriously. I know. I'm fine to let them think what they want. It will be that much more satisfying when I overcome their expectations."

"He's comfortable traveling with the body," Gideon said, looking at the pictures on the board.

Hotch finished his statement. "And owns a vehicle capable of concealing one."

Spencer spoke next. "1 in 7.4 drivers in Seattle owns an SUV."

"Explorer with tinted windows." Derek suggested.

Tessa shook her head. "Explorers rate higher with women."

"But how do we know it's his car? Ted Bundy drove a VW Bug."

"What about a Jeep Cherokee?"

"Jeeps are more masculine," Spencer agreed.

"And we know how the unsubs feel about asserting their masculinity."

Tessa turned from the board. "When did the bureau become part of the investigation?"

The man, she couldn't remember his name, answered with crossed arms. "After the fourth body."

That was the one dumped over state lines.

"Do you think he did that on purpose?"

"If so, knowledge of law enforcement does suggest a criminal record."

Tessa moved to lean against a desk facing the boards. "Except, that's fairly common knowledge. Especially with the rise in procedural television."

"Do you want to see our suspect list?"

"No, we won't look at a suspect list until we come up with the profile. It keeps our perspective unbiased."

Gideon nodded toward everyone. "When do we sit down with your task force?"

"Four o clock."

"An accurate profile by four o clock today?" Derek questioned.

Obviously Gideon was less concerned by it, which Tessa could tell made Derek more concerned. "Agent Gideon," Hotch said, "where would you like to start?"

He pointed to a picture. "At the site of the last murder."

As soon as Spencer stepped into the house behind Tessa, the dog barked at him and he jumped. Tessa chuckled and even Hotch smirked. The blonde man pulled her back.

"Sandy. No, no, no, no. I'm so sorry."

Hotch motioned. "Oh, it's okay. It's what we call the Reid Effect. Happens with children too. I'm Agent Hotchner. This is Doctors Spencer and Elisabeth Reid."

"Oh. You both look too young to have gone to medical school."

Spencer held his jacket against him in protection as he moved closer and around the beautiful dog, who walked up to Tessa with a sloppy tongue hanging out and begging for pets. Spencer glared at her as she knelt to scruffle his ears.

"They're PhD's," Spencer said. "Three of them. She has one."

"What are you two, some kind of genius' or something?"

Tessa stood from petting Sandy as her brother explained himself. "I don't believe intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute."

There was the ticking of a particularly loud clock somewhere and Tessa jumped in. "Yes, he's a genius."

Hotch smirked at his own resident genius and Tessa made a face at him when no one was looking. "Sandy, you get a lot of attention don't you?"

"Yeah, Heather loves this dog. I feed her when Heather's away and usually she's fine, but lately she won't eat it's almost like she can sense something's wrong."

"Not sense," Spencer said. "Smell. Our apocrine sweat glands releases secretions in response to emotional stress."

Tessa moved over to a stack of magazines and flipped through the covers. "Sandy's worried because she knows you are," she said to clear up the feeling of confusion he was no doubt feeling. "Charlie, come look at these."

Spencer didn't tell her again not to call him that at work, for which she was grateful because she wouldn't have obliged. He looked at them too. "David, does your sister own a Datsun Z?"

"No, but she's in the market for one. How'd you know?"

Tessa held up the magazine. Sandy barked again, either at Spencer or to get Tessa's attention, and the brother took her outside.

"There's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller," Spencer said. "A level of trust. If I want to coax a young woman into my car..."

"You'd offer her a test drive."

They left after that and in the car, from the front seat, Tessa looked back with a smirk. "The Reid Effect?"

"We may have to come up with a better name," Hotch muttered. "It seems you are the opposite."

"Tessa always gets along with the animals," Spencer said. "I have yet to meet one that didn't to tear my leg off."

"That's not true," Tessa said. "Jack loves you."

Hotch frowned. "Jack. I like that."

Derek and Gideon were already there when they got back to the room they were set up in. They all sat in their seats around a table, with the exception of Derek who was pacing and tossing a ball up to catch. Spencer had his legs up in the seat with him, spinning around in it, and Tessa was sitting on hers.

"Okay," Derek said. "Then how 'bout the fact that on one hand, we have paranoid psychosis... but the autopsy protocol says what?"

"Adhesive residue shows he put layer after layer of duct tape over his victims eyes."

Tessa put her hand out to stop his spinning and he pouted a bit.

"He knows he wants to kill them, but he still covers their eyes. He doesn't want them looking at him, apparently."

"That could suggest that he's in a position where he doesn't want anyone to be able to get a description. Maybe his job is one of authority." Tessa said.

"Okay," Derek conceded, "but then he takes the body and dumps it right out in the open, murder weapon nearby."

"Not the M.O. Of a paranoid convinced he's being watched or under surveillance."

"Paranoid psychosis, but behavior that's not paranoid."

"Maybe he's schizophrenic," Spencer suggested.

Tessa frowned. "Maybe we're looking for two different people."

Hotch jumped on the trail of thought and she caught a smile from Derek. "The one killing would be the dominant one, the one afraid of being identified. The one dumping the body would be the younger one, unconcerned that he may be caught."

"Or he thinks the other will be able to save him."

"This suggests the older one killing may have a criminal record."

Gideon, who had been zoned out the entire time over by the board, interrupted. "Let's tell them we're ready."

Derek disagreed right away. "We don't have enough for a profile. We just started looking at this with two unsubs."

Gideon left without answering or commenting to what Derek said and Tessa sighed, standing up out of her chair and smoothing out her skirt. Derek stared at the door, his mouth open but not gaping and Spencer leaned forward to write something. Probably a comment about Gideon's behavior.

"Reid," he said. "You're good with this? Tessa? We've got a woman who's only got a few hours left to live, an incomplete profile, and a Unit Chief on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

"They don't call them nervous breakdowns anymore," Tessa told him at the same time as Gideon, who came in to pick something up off of the table. Derek glared at nothing and looked over at Tessa, who blushed and ducked her head, her hand on her brother's shoulder.

"It's called a major depressive episode," Spencer informed him and Tessa bit back a grin.

"I know, Reid."

"We have two unidentified subjects, both white males. One will be in his late twenties, this will be the over confident one. He'll most likely be the one dealing with the bodies after their death and the submissive in this dynamic. The dominant will most likely be in his mid to late thirties, more cautious and our killer.

"Neither are someone you would notice at first glance. They both blend in to any crowd. The violent natures of the crime suggests a previous criminal record for either or both unsubs. Petty crimes. Maybe auto theft. We've classified them as organized killers. Careful as a whole. Psychopathic as opposed to psychotic. He follows the news, has good hygiene. He's smart. We're loathe to say one is the brains over the other. It appears to be fairly even, which means the only physical evidence you'll find is what they wanted you to.

"Mobile. It's more likely our submissive unsub is not, relying perhaps on a public transport or another, but the dominant has a car in good condition. Our guess- Jeep Cherokee, tinted windows. The murders have all involved rapes. But rape without penetration. The one killing, the dominant, is likely doing this as a show for the other. This likely tells us that he is sexually inadequate. Psychiatric evaluations or the submissive will show a history of paranoia stemming from a childhood trauma- death of a parent or family member. And now he feels persecuted and watched. Murder gives them both a combined sense of power..."

Watching Gideon give their profile, Spencer continued jotting down things in his little notebook. He'd always carried one around in his pocket. She usually wrote on the back of her hands and the insides of her wrist. Spencer always hated this, buying her little notebooks that he hid in opportune locations around her house, in her car, her purse, that she kept for doodling.

Elle Greenway. Tessa waited in the house down the street for the girl, who was said to be starting the BAU as well soon, walked to one of the unsubs house to lure him out for an arrest. Richard Slessman. Tessa waited in the dark between Spencer and Derek, closer to the latter. Then they heard the voices.

"Are you sure you locked it?" That had to be Slessman.

"Yeah."

The door creaked open and Tessa felt like she could feel the heaviness of her breath in front of her lips. "Hello?" The footsteps got closer. "Hello!"

"FBI! Freeze!"

They all came out and trained their guns on him as Elle took him down to arrest him. Gideon came in from the back and Tessa caught the conceited smirk Slessman gave him.

"All is riddle, and the key to a riddle... is another riddle." -Emerson

"There's no sign of the girl here," Spencer told Gideon. "We can arrest him with probable cause, but we won't be able to hold him. Slessman's been at the top of the suspect list."

"Is that the mother?"

"Grandmother," Elle answered. "The mother died in a fire when he was thirteen."

Gideon passed Tessa and Derek, "Probably not the only fire in his childhood."

Spencer leaned against the open door frame and laid placed a comforting hand on Tessa's back. "Before his Son of Sam murders, David Berkowitz set a multitude of fires."

"Exactly how many is a multitude?"

Tessa moved to follow Gideon with Derek moving right behind her, like a magnet. "One thousand, four hundred and eighty eight," she answered.

"Luring him out was your idea, right? Greenway?"

"Elle," she corrected. "I don't send a SWAT team into a house with children."

"Hotch says your background is in sex offender cases. What can you tell us?"

Tessa caught Derek glancing at her in the corner of her eye and she looked over to see him wink at her. She smiled and rolled her eyes. "You think you're cute," she accused in a whisper.

"Princess, I am cute," he told her, leaning his arm on the door frame and giving her a side grin. "And any other adjective you can think of."

Spencer, who was standing beside them, frowned. "I don't think I'm comfortable with you calling my sister Princess."

"Why not?" Derek asked.

"Because the next step, like you and Garcia, will be flirting constantly and making innuendos and I'm not okay with that. Her name is Elisabeth. Or Tessa."

Tessa smirked and shared a look with Derek as they moved towards the stairs. "Oh, you handsome devil, who else would I be but your princess?"

Then she leaned on him playfully as they went upstairs, chuckling. Spencer glared at Derek before going back downstairs. She sobered and followed Derek to Slessman's room where two officers were trying to get into the computer. Derek frowned.

"Something's not right," he said. "This is a boy's room. Not a man's."

She glanced around with a bit of an agreement. Then one of the officers held up a slip of paper. "Log in password."

"No!" Tessa and Derek both said. Too late. There was a beep and a whir and then it was off. The officer sitting typed in a few keys and frowned.

"It's not coming back on."

"And it won't." Derek told them. "It was a false password."

Elle, Gideon, and Spencer joined them in Slessman's room and Tessa and Derek were both thinking. They needed a password as Derek was able to get the screen back up.

"What's the number six at the bottom of the screen?"

Derek answered irritably. "Number of password attempts before the program wipes the hard drive."

"There could be an email or a journal in the computer, something that tells us who the partner is or where Heather is being kept. Do you think you can break in?"

"In six tries?" Tessa asked.

Gideon quoted, "Try again. Fail again. Fail better."

Samuel Beckett. "Samuel Beckett," Spencer told Derek. She loved seeing her brother's dynamic in the team. Especially as the middle, explaining things to either side.

Derek stared and quoted his own to contradict. "Try not. Do or do not."

Tessa answered this one. "Yoda."

Gideon grabbed a book off of the shelf and flipped through, stopping on a page and leaving to go talk to Slessman.

"You've reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI's office of Supreme Genius."

"You're on speaker. You got me and Kitten."

The person on the other side of the call gasped excitedly. "Does our new Dr. Reid have a new nickname? I shall be vigilant with it. What do you need?"

"We got a program called Deadbolt Defense and a girl with only a couple hours to live, so what do you know?"

"Then you got a problem. Deadbolt's the number one password crack resistant software there is. You're gonna have to get inside this guy's head to get the password."

Derek sighed and Tessa collapsed onto the bed on her back. The sides were almost coming undone. He tossed a lot and the little time she saw him, he had dark circles so he must have trouble sleeping.

"I thought I was calling the Office of Supreme Genius."

"Well, gorgeous, you've been rerouted to the office of Too Friggin' Bad."

"Thanks anyway." He hung up and looked over at Tessa. "What are you doing?"

She patted the spot beside her. "Trying to get inside his head. He's an insomniac."

She angled herself to look above her and found a CD player in the headboard. So he listened to music. There were CD's and Derek grabbed those, getting up and going over to a CD stand- calling the other officers for help in going through them.

"We're going through everyone of these CD's. Scratches, wear and tear. I wanna know which CD he plays the most. Let's go."

Spencer entered the room with them and soon it was just the three of them, Spencer sitting in the middle of the bed spinning a CD case that was empty, Derek walking back and forth by the door, and Tessa with her legs piled in the computer chair and herself sitting on them.

"Empty," Spencer said.

"Like the Sinatra case I had." She said.

"You never found the disk?" He asked. They would listen to Frank Sinatra while they talked. Forever ago now, she lost her favorite of his CD's and had to buy a new one until she found it.

"Yeah, it was-" Tessa stopped and began to laugh, sitting up straighter from her slouch and moving over to open the disk tray, holding up the CD within. "It was in the radio. I never took it out."

Spencer climbed up out of the bed and over to where she was, he and Derek both moving to stand behind her. "Beetle, you are amazing."

"Beetle?" Derek questioned.

"Thanks, but what song?"

Spencer looked at the song list on the case. "Enter Sandman."

Tessa typed it in quickly and the screen came up. She gasped softly in shock and Derek sighed, dropping his head and moving to call Gideon. Heather was alive, in a cage with duct tape over her eyes. There was something about it though.

"Tessa," Spencer said. "Show the last twelve images lined up next to each other."

She typed the command and hit enter. Spencer pointed to the screen. "There, do you see the hanging light fixture?"

"What about it?" Then, a breath of realization. "It's shifting positions like it's swaying. Derek, she's on a boat. A pier or a dock. Otherwise they wouldn't be able to transmit the video."

"I'll call Hotch."

Tessa looked up at Spencer and he kissed her forehead, pausing as he pulled away, looking at the screen. "Morgan, he's back."

By the time they got to the shipyard, Gideon had been shot, and the medics were on the scene patching him up. Heather was alive. Gideon was in his concentrated silence. Tessa confident that Elle would be soon joining the BAU.

"You did good," Derek said, walking up behind her, watching the scene of red and blue lights from afar.

"Thank you," she said. "We make a good team."

"I agree, though maybe not as good a team as you and Reid. It's strange to think of him having a sister."

She rubbed her hands up her arms. "He's my best friend. Really, he's my only friend. He and I have always been close."

"What would you say if I said I wanted to be your best friend?"

Tessa turned around. "I'd say that that sounds very... doable." She smiled and put her hand out like he had when they met. "Hi, I'm Tessa. We're best friends now and there's nothing you can do about it."

He shook her hand. "I'm Derek and I'm more likely to use my own name for you than any other you may prefer."

"Am I to be dubbed 'princess' then?"

"If you don't mind."

"I like it. In that case, I may call you 'Charming'. I mean, you think you are anyway."

She heard Spencer call her and moved away. "I'm being summoned."

"Milady," he joked, bowing.

"My liege," she quipped back, going off to find Spencer.

When she did, he looked agitated. "Where were you?" He asked upon seeing her, taking off his jacket to place on her shoulders.

"I was talking to Derek."

He made a face. "I don't like that. He flirts with you."

"Charlie, he flirts with everyone."

"Not everyone is my little sister."

"Charlie-"

"Speaking of," he cut her off. "I think you should leave the FBI."

Tessa groaned. "Spencer, stop it."

He looked startled that she called him by his name. "Elisabeth, seeing Gideon hurt-"

"That's Gideon, not me."

"But one day it could be you. This is dangerous and I don't want you in it."

She glared. "I don't remember asking."

"You didn't have to. I'm telling you to leave because I love you and I worry about you."

"You're telling me?" She asked in a shrill whisper. "You aren't my boss, you're my brother. If you think it's so dangerous, why don't you leave? That's a bit hypocritical for you to tell me to leave because I could get hurt and stay yourself when you're more likely to be targeted in a close range by a gun than I am. Statistically, you know that."

"Why are you being so stubborn about this?" He asked angrily, his hands in his hair and then holding her face gently.

"Why are you being so difficult?" She asked with just as much anger, pulling harshly away from him. "I'm good at my job, Charlie. You know I am. I can do this. Why can't you just accept that?"

He didn't say anything else, choosing to walk away the way he did when he knew that anything else he could say he wouldn't be able to take back. Their mother had instilled that habit with them both, but she always hated when one of them had to.

Neither of them spoke to each other until they boarded the jet and then they both sat on opposite ends of it, the unspoken tension between them clear to the rest. She opened her purse to get her music player out and found one of the little notebooks he hid and pushed it aside, putting one earbud in her ear and pressing play. She hadn't done or said anything she should apologize for and she was determined to stand her ground. She had worked hard to get here.

This had been hers and Spencer's dream since they were little, the Behavioral Analysis Unit and catching killers as an unstoppable duo. When he graduated high school at twelve, they made their plan of action to get there. When she graduated high school three years later, They moved it up. He proceeded to get three PhD's in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering. She her own in psychology as well as a bachelor in both theology and philosophy. She'd followed her brother into the FBI and then the BAU just as they planned. When he entered first, that was when they began this train of disagreement.

"What are you and Pretty Boy being all angry at each other for?"

Tessa broke from her thoughts and looked to Derek, who stole the seat across from her with his own headphones on and and crooked smile. "Nothing," she said.

"Wow. That's a serious nothing for the amount of tension in this jet."

"Derek, please. It was just a disagreement."

He sighed. "Let me guess, he's afraid of you getting hurt with this job." She glanced over at him. "I have two younger sisters of my own. I can't tell you the trouble I would have if they wanted to do this job."

"This has been our dream together since we were kids though. Fighting crime side by side. Then he changed his mind. I just, I wish I could make him understand that this is all I've ever wanted- we wanted. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. I wouldn't want to."

"He'll come around. He's just being a big brother."

"Five minutes," she muttered. "Just five minutes."

Spencer didn't ride home with her, instead going off with Derek in his car before Tessa had even caught up. She sighed and walked to her old yellow jeep that she and Spencer had always nicknamed The School Bus. That's what it looked like. Tessa laid her forehead against the steering wheel and started the car.

Jack jumped in excitement when she was home. She'd asked a kid down the street to watch him for a few days, pet him, play with him, make sure he had food and water. She missed her puppy. Spencer always said it was ridiculous that she called him her puppy when he was four years old and no longer a puppy.

"Hey, Jackie. I missed you. Were you good for Mackenzie?"

Of course her only answer was a tilted head and whine. She sighed and set her keys in the smoking stand beside the door that she used for random things. She loved going to old flea markets and finding smoking stands, using them for small tables which drove Spencer insane as they were not meant to be multi-functional household devices.

It was late, or early, depending on how you wanted to look at it as it was currently ten minutes to three in the morning. She'd been up for almost thirty-six hours. Tessa moved to her room and changed into her night clothes, an old T-shirt and shorts and turned the television on. A Monster in Paris was on, an old favorite and one of the few movies she could fall asleep to. She was almost asleep when she heard her front door open.

Instantly her eyes were open and she sat up, careful to stay quiet. She was sure that she locked the door. Tessa quietly moved to the small safe behind a painting and opened it, pulling her gun out and moving towards the door.

It was just Spencer.

"Jesus, Charlie, I almost shot you!"

"I, uh, look. I know I'm being overly dramatic and I'm sorry. I just, it's you and me, Beetle. It's always been you and me. I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you, you're my best friend, my sister, my favorite person in the world. I will try not to argue about you being in the BAU with me, but you have to promise not to put yourself in any unnecessary danger. Please."

Tessa launched herself at him in a tight hug. "I love you, Charlie. Of course I promise. You're my brother, and I'm just as worried about you. I'll be careful if you are."

He pulled away after hugging her back. "I, uh, I brought you a smoothie, strawberry, just like you like it. And a candy bar."

She grinned and took them from him. "Do you wanna watch A Monster In Paris with me?"

"You know I hate that movie," he told her. "It's ridiculous that they think a few random chemicals can make a flea eight feet tall, and an additional set of chemicals to make it sing." Then, "Of course I want to watch it with you."

"There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love" -Bryant H. McGill

A/N: Sooo, let me know what you think of her argument with Spencer and her interactions with Derek. A Monster in Paris is a real movie, though its from 2011. I love it and yes, it really is about a singing flea. I feel like you guys probably think I'm on drugs by now. I have a younger brother, but a really good friend I consider my brother who is older. Though neither are really like this at all.

I love coffee and I probably use AT LEAST as much sugar as Spencer, but I LOVE strawberry smoothies, especially the minute maid ones. They're my favorite. Blah blah blah, sorry I talk so much. Anyway. Let me know what you all think. I love all the comments. I am also always open to ideas and suggestions if you have an idea for a direction this or any other of my stories can go. Love always, Skye.