This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it was starting to get really long, so I decided to cut it in half. I was trying to tie up some of of the loose ends (like Quinn's motivations for telling Brittany and Sam's anger at the break up) and realized there were other loose ends I didn't even realize needed to be tied up/addressed, and then there were canon events I kind of wanted to address/touch on, and then I randomly decided to make my life harder by throwing a bit of an obstacle in the way of their reunion (no third party or anything, promise), and yeah. It got a bit out of hand. I have about two or three scenes until I'm done, I think, but I still haven't quite decided on how I want to end it, so I decided to cut the chapter in half and post the first part now, and hopefully get the ending up by midweek.

Thanks again to anyone that reviewed the first two chapters, and I hope you enjoy this one as well. Let me know what you think!

Santana isn't in the habit of answering Rachel's phone calls (honestly, she's not), but when her phone rings while she's in the shower, and Santana notices the name flashing on the screen, she doesn't hesitate to pick it up.

"You gay yet?" she asks in way of greeting.

There's a moment of hesitation on the other end, the caller thrown by the unexpected voice and blunt question. "Santana?"

"Obviously."

"Why are you answering Rachel's phone?"

"She's in the shower," she explains, glancing in the direction as speaks. "Can't you hear her obnoxious singing?"

"Thankfully not," Quinn replies, settling down on her bed. "Is she almost out? Because she's left me at least five messages in the last week, and I'm finally giving in and calling her back, since I know she won't stop until I do."

Santana checks her watch, trying to remember how long the other girl has been in there. She wasn't really paying too much attention earlier. "Not sure. Depends on if she's taming the forest growing on her stumps or not. But don't you worry, I can keep you company until Berry is done."

"Do you have to?" the blonde groans. It was hard enough to work up the will power to talk to Rachel. She doesn't think she has the energy for a conversation with Santana. "I can always just hang up and change my number, and hope she doesn't spend a week dialing at random to find the new one."

"No, no, it's no problem at all," Santana assures, her voice dripping with fake kindness. "We do have a long overdue conversation to have, after all."

Quinn raises an eyebrow, genuinely not sure what Santana means. They haven't talked since the night of Mr. Schue's wedding. "We do?"

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Jesus Christ, Fabray," the brunette exclaims, rolling her eyes. "How dense are you? Why did you tell Brittany about what happened between us?"

"Oh," she responds in understanding. "That."

"Yes, that." Rachel switches over to a new song, so Santana knows she's got some time. She's been meaning to bitch Quinn out since it happened, but they don't really go out of their way to keep in contact with each other, so this is the first chance she's really gotten. "Was it really necessary for you to rub it in Britt's face like that?"

Quinn considers her answer, but decides she wants one of her own first. "How do you even know about it?"

"Brittany came over to ask me about it that day," Santana explains, remembering the conversation they had that day, and how it changed everything. "She actually thought I had been pining over you or some shit. Why the fuck would you try to make her think that?"

"Because you two morons were never going to talk otherwise."

"Don't call Brittany a moron!"

"Jesus," Quinn laughs, pulling her phone away from her ear at the volume, not the least bit surprised that Santana immediately jumped to defend Brittany while ignoring her own insult. "Calm down, Lopez, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?"

"I meant that you two are the most stubborn, selfless people I know," she explains, pulling her legs up and folding them underneath her. "You were both obviously hurting and still in love with each other, but had both let each other go because you thought it was what was best for the other and all of that other cliché, romantic bullshit. You guys were never going to sort it out without a push, so I helped you out. You're welcome."

Santana tries to process this information. She had always known it was a possibility that Quinn was trying to help in her own Quinn Fabray way, but there was also a bigger possibility that she was just being a destructive bitch. "You were trying to help?"

"Mmm," the blonde hums in affirmation.

"By making Brittany think I had a thing for you?"

"You two are so predictable," she explains like it was obvious. "Just look at you. You regretted breaking up with Brittany since the moment you did it, but it wasn't until you found out she was dating Sam that you even tried to get her back. I didn't see you talk to her once when we were home for Thanksgiving. So I knew the best way to get her to talk to you would be to make her jealous."

Santana hates that she was played by Quinn Fabray, and she hates it even more that she's grateful for it. "You could have just told her to talk to me. You didn't have to put that disgusting idea out into the universe."

"It wouldn't have worked," she answers with a shrug. "And it would've been less fun."

"Who says it did work?"

"Well, obviously she talked to you," Quinn points out. "Or else you wouldn't even know the conversation happened in the first place."

"Just because we talked, doesn't mean we resolved anything," the brunette tries to argue, not wanting Quinn to have the satisfaction of being right.

Quinn laughs knowingly. "But you did. Mercedes told me that Brittany's planning on breaking up with Sam and moving to New York after graduation."

"She already dumped his White Chocolate ass," Santana corrects without thinking. She only knows this because of Ashley's texts (and a random voicemail message from Tina), because Brittany still hasn't told her herself yet, despite the fact that they've talked everyday since it happened a few weeks ago.

"Ha, see, it did work," Quinn gloats, loving the fact that Santana owes her big time. "Nothing works as well as some good old fashioned jealousy."

Santana rolls her eyes, and thinks it over. She remembers Quinn flirting with her, and coming on really strong that night. "God, please tell me you didn't sleep with me just to put this little plan in motion. Because if so, you could've just spared me the humiliation and regret, and just lied to Britt about it."

"Guess you'll never know," she teases, just wanting to torture her friend. She really had just been genuinely curious about it, after finding out her roommate was bisexual, and having the misfortune of being awake when she brought her girlfriend back to the dorm one night. They seemed to really enjoy it, more than she had with guys in her past, and she thought maybe it was the guy that was the problem. But something about sleeping with Santana hadn't felt right either. She still didn't know what it means, but she's decided to stop stressing about it.

"You're the worst, Fabray," she mumbles, though she figures that's not the case. She knows Quinn isn't the type to use sex that way. She had a reason, but whatever her reasons were, were her business. She wouldn't exactly turn her away if she asked her for advice, but she's not about to go out of her way to give it, either. "I have to live the rest of my life with the knowledge that that night happened."

"Can't be any worse than knowing that you slept with Finn."

Santana gags, genuinely having blocked that horrific experience from her memory. "Fuck, thanks for the reminder."

"Besides, it got you your girl back," the other girl points out, not at all bothered by her friend's overdramatic whining. "So I'm sure it was worth it."

Santana lets out a happy sigh, knowing she's right. "Anything would be worth that. Even though I don't technically have her back yet."

"But you will," Quinn assures her. "And this time, don't fuck it up if some chick smiles at you, okay? I know sleeping with one girl doesn't make me an expert, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't qualify as lesbian sex."

"Shut up," Santana grumbles, still embarrassed by that whole thing. Sure, it wasn't the real reason she broke up with Brittany, but just the fact that she used the term 'energy exchange' is embarrassing enough. She's about to continue when she spots Rachel walking by in her towel, on her way to get changed. She hadn't even noticed the shower turn off. "I'd make you pay for that, but Berry is almost done, and I know having to talk to her for an hour will be punishment enough."

The blonde cringes, but accepts her fate. "But I'm serious, Santana. You and Britt are getting a second chance here, in no small part thanks to yours truly, so don't fuck it up this time. I'm not taking another one for the team."

"You wish you could get all up on this again," she throws back as Rachel makes her way towards her. She's so glad that her and Quinn can joke about that mistake of an evening and there isn't any weirdness there. They don't talk often, but when they do, it's usually pretty easy and pleasant, insults aside, so it's nice that hasn't been ruined. "The troll has come to collect her phone, so I have to go. But you know, thanks, I guess. You helped in your own fucked up way."

"Bye, Lopez."

Rachel raises a questioning eyebrow, wondering why her roommate is on her phone and who she's talking to. "Santana, I thought we had this discussion after the last time. You are under no circumstances, allowed to answer my phone, or go through my text messages."

"Unclench, Barbra," she scoffs, handing her phone over to the smaller girl as she stands up. "I saw it was Quinn and I had a few bones to pick with her. No harm, no foul. I didn't look for any dick pics your new Ken Doll might have sent or anything."

"I would never…"

"Don't care," she cuts her off, brushing past her and moving towards the kitchen to start making lunch. "And keep your phone sex to a minimum while I'm eating, please."

Santana is at work when she hears the news.

She's been regulated to the day shift (which consists of cleaning up the mess left from the previous night, and making sure everything is ready and stocked for later and it's awful and boring and she hates it), after her manager discovered she had used a fake ID when she applied for the job. She didn't need to be of age to work there, but she did need to be if she wanted to take customers up on their offers to buy her a shot. It had been going well, once she learned to answer to the name Rosario, but then Gayberry had come in one night and they blew her cover. Luckily for her, she was one of the more popular dancers there, so her boss let it slide, as long as she worked the day shift for a couple of weeks as punishment.

She's wiping down a sticky table in disgust when one of her co-workers, Natalie, gets her attention. "Yo, Lopez! Aren't you from Lima, Ohio?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You might want to check this out." Santana glances over towards the bar, where a couple of other girls have joined to watch whatever is playing on the television overhead. As she starts to walk over, Natalie turns the volume up so she can hear what the news reporter is saying.

"We're still waiting for an update, but as of now, we've been told that police don't know how many gunmen there are, or if there have been any injuries or fatalities. They don't believe that there have been more shots fired since the initial round, but we can confirm that there are still students in the building, and no suspects have been named at this time, so police are hesitant to move in. We hope to have more very soon."

Santana's breathing stops as she hears the words and sees the aerial image of her old high school on the screen. She's frozen in place, all of her thoughts on Brittany. She can feel the panic starting to claw its way to the surface, as trembling hands automatically reach for the phone she turned off earlier, after Rachel texted her for the third time about something completely pointless.

"Santana?" one of the girls asks, but she can't tell which one. Her voice is muffled, barely heard over the pounding in her ears. "Did you go there?"

Santana ignores them as she desperately tries to control the shaking of her hands enough to turn her phone on. She takes deep breathes as it lights up, before a lump forms in her throat when she finds she has multiple messages waiting for her. She scrolls passed the few texts from her roommates and stops when she gets to two unread ones from Brittany. Her stomach drops as she reads the words.

I'm so sorry.

I love you.

They were sent six minutes ago. Her immediate instinct is to call Brittany and demand to know that she's okay, but realizing how dangerous that could be for the girl, and instead calls Kurt.

"Santana?"

"What the fuck is going on?" she demands, getting right to the point, assuming Kurt has heard the news. She can feel the tears starting to build up as her panic increases.

He wastes no time filling her in with everything he knows. "I was able to get a hold of Blaine. Almost everyone was in the choir room when the shoots went off, they're still in there now. He said Tina hadn't gotten to school yet and Brittany…"

"And Brittany what, Kurt?"

"He said Brittany went to the washroom," he sighs, his heart breaking for his friend when he hears her let out a whimper. He blindly reaches over to hold Rachel's hand, needing something to help keep him together as he breaks the news. They had been desperately trying to find out all they could on the girl, wanting to have something to reassure Santana with when they finally got a hold of her, but they hadn't been successful. "She's not with everyone else, and Tina told him that she hasn't seen her outside, either, and she's not answering her phone… Santana, I'm so sorry, but they don't know where she is."

A million different scenarios run through Santana's head, and none of them are good. She can't believe this is happening, that there's some crazy person roaming the halls of McKinley with a gun, that Brittany's alone, and most importantly, that she's not there to protect her. She wishes more than anything that she could be there right now, frantically searching for Brittany herself, sociopathic gunman be damned. "I'm coming home."

"I'll text Blaine again for an update," is all Kurt can offer, before she hangs up on him. She spins around and finds all of her coworkers watching her. She had forgotten they were even there.

"Are you okay?" Natalie asks, noticing the tears starting to well up in her friend's eyes. She wasn't able to follow the conversation, but it obviously wasn't good. "What's going on?"

"My girlfriend," Santana stutters out, the reality of everything just starting to hit her as she tries to explain what's going on. She knows Brittany's not technically her girlfriend, but she'll never not think of her as such, and fuck, if this situation didn't call for a bit of emotional embellishment. "She, she's in there right now and nobody knows where she is. She's… she's alone in there, and she texted me, and I have to go."

"Whoa, wait." Natalie pushes passed the other girls and chases after Santana, who has rushed towards the back room to find her coat and purse so she can leave. "You mean Brittany? She's in there?" Santana isn't super close with the girls she works with, but after she made Natalie pretend to be her girlfriend to finally get that one chick to stop coming around and hitting on her, she ended up telling her the whole Brittany/sexuality saga over drinks one night after closing. So if there's anyone there that gets out terrifying this is for Santana, it's her.

Santana brushes passed and rips her jacket off the hanger and roughly tugs it on. "Kurt said our friends are all together in the choir room, but Brittany's not with them, and they don't think she got out, so yeah, she's in there. And she's alone and probably terrified and I'm not fucking there."

"Hey, slow down," the other brunette orders, grabbing her friend by the shoulders to get her to take a breath. "Hey, hey. This isn't your fault, okay? It's not your fault you're not there. Brittany understands that, and I'm sure she's okay."

"No," Santana argues, pulling away and checking her phone for an update. Nothing. "No, you don't get it. It would be just our fucking luck that something like this would happen now. We're so close to being together again and then this, of fucking course."

"You don't know that anything has happened," Natalie reasons, feeling helpless as she watches the other girl breakdown right in front of her. She knows how much Santana loves Brittany, and how excited she was for them to be able to start over after she graduates, so she can only imagine what Santana is feeling right now.

Santana shakes her head. "She's not answering her phone. And I know she has it, because she texted me."

Natalie reads the messages on the screen that Santana's holding up and the words seem so ominous to her for some reason, but she sure as hell isn't going to share that thought with Santana. "She probably has it off. She probably knows people are going to be calling her, and if she's hiding somewhere, she can't have her phone going off, right?"

"Oh, God." The image of Brittany huddled in a corner, hiding in wait for some kid with a gun to find her, makes her feel physically ill. A whole new wave of panic shoots through her, and just as she's about to loose it, her phone vibrates, alerting her of a new message.

It's over. Brittany's with everyone now. She's okay.

The relief she feels almost knocks her off her feet. She can feel her knees wobbling, and she knows she'd be on the floor right now, if she wasn't rushing to the washroom to throw up. She dry heaves into the sinks, and tries to catch her breath at the same time. She lets herself fall apart for a moment, before she sucks in a calming breath and stands up, coming face to face with her reflection. Her eyes are blood shoot, there are tear tracks on her cheeks, and she's paler than she ever remembers looking. She just went through five minutes of absolute hell, and she looks it.

"You're getting a call," Natalie says from the doorway, breaking her out of her trance. The girl has a kind smile on her face, and is holding out the buzzing phone she had shoved into her hands. "It's Brittany."

Santana's eyes widen, and she immediately grabs the phone, her heart swelling up when she sees the blonde's face lighting up her screen. She answers, and brings it to her ear, and all she can chock out is, "Britt?"

"I broke up with Sam!" the blonde immediately informs her, barely waiting for her name to finish. "I did it like a month ago, and I never told you. I was going to, but then I didn't want you to think I was expecting something back. I didn't know if you were seeing someone or were interested in someone because we never talk about that kind of stuff, and I didn't want you to feel like you had to stop doing or seeing somebody, too." Her explanation is rushed, her words going a mile a minute, and she has to take a breath before continuing. "But I was in that bathroom, and I thought I might die, and I hated the idea of possibly dying with you thinking I belonged to someone else still. I don't, I belong to you, I always have. I'm yours, proudly so. And I just needed to make sure you know that."

Santana nods to Natalie, who signals that she's going to give them some privacy, and tries to process everything that's happened in the last five minutes. "Britt, I…"

"I know," the blonde sighs, trying to catch her own breath. She was terrified out of her mind in that stall, but she knows she would've been even more scared if someone told her Santana was in that kind of danger. So she made sure the first thing she did when Mr. Schue got her back to the choir room, was call Santana. "I'm okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Brittany swears, her eyes welling up again when she hears the tremble in Santana's voice. "Mr. Schue came and got me, I'm okay. They don't think it was a real shooting, they think it was some kind of accident or something."

"How does someone accidently bring a fucking gun to school?"

Brittany knows she would have smiled at the beginning of a Santana rant, if she wasn't still so shaken. "I don't know, they're still trying to figure everything out. But I just really had to call you, especially when Blaine told me he had talked to Kurt, and that you knew. I knew you'd be freaking out."

"You're damn right I was." Santana finally leaves the washroom, and strolls back over towards the coat she dropped on floor. She bends down to pick it up, and then lets herself fall backwards on the old leather couch that's back there for breaks. "I was fucking terrified, Britt. Those were the scariest three minutes of my life. Don't ever do that to me again."

"I'll try not to," is the best she can do.

They're both quiet for a moment, taking comfort in the sound of each other's breathing, a reminder that they're both still there. "I don't know what I would have done if…"

"You don't have to," Brittany interrupts, wanting to stop Santana's train of thought as fast as possible. She knows Santana has a tendency to overthink things, and she hates the idea of Santana thinking about something so horrible when she can't physically be there to calm her down. "Nothing happened, I'm okay. Don't even think about it."

Santana knows there's no way that's happening, but she doesn't want to worry Brittany about it. Instead, she runs a hand through her hair to try to calm herself, and changes the subject. "So, did Trouty Mouth cry when you dumped his sorry ass?"

"Santana."

"Sorry," she relents. "I know that probably wasn't fun for you."

"It wasn't, but I felt a lot better after I did it," she admits, glancing over at the boy from across the room. He's talking with Blaine and Tina, but keeps glancing over at her. "He got really mad and has been avoiding me since. I feel bad that I hurt him, but I know I did the right thing. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just…"

"No, I get it," Santana assures her, leaning back on the couch a little. "Besides, I already knew."

Brittany's surprised to hear that. It's not like she swore anyone to secrecy or anything, but she figures if Santana had known, she would've asked her about it. "You did?"

"Yeah, since the night you did it," she informs her, laughing a bit at Brittany's reaction.

"How?"

"I'm not at liberty to reveal my sources."

Brittany thinks for a moment, and the answer smacks her in the face. "That brat! What a little traitor."

"You know she was always Team Santana."

"Only because she's like in love with you," Brittany scoffs, rolling her eyes. She feels foolish for stressing about this secret every time she talked to Santana, only to find out she knew all along. Though Santana is right, she really should have known that her sister would spill the beans.

"Obviously I'm a Pierce magnet."

"Obviously," she repeats sarcastically, though there's a clear hint of fondness in her tone. "You really are, though. I think my mom is even a little bit in love with you."

"There's only one Pierce I'm interested in, though." Santana thinks back to what Brittany said earlier, and she figures she owes her some honesty back. "Actually, there's only one girl at all."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, Britt," she admits, softly. "There's nobody else. You're the only one."

"Really? The only one?"

Santana draws her bottom lip between her teeth, debating on how to answer that. Technically, there has been other girls; in Louisville, in New York, that time with Quinn in Lima, but they didn't mean anything. Not like Brittany was implying in her rant. "The only one that matters."

"Gotcha." Brittany understands what that means, and immediately decides not to continue that line of conversation. She glances across the room again and it looks like Sam is about to make his way over to her. "Look, I better go. I know you're at work, and I'm technically still in school."

"Call me as soon as you get home," Santana demands, anxiety creeping up in her at the thought of losing her connection with Brittany right now. "I think my manager will understand if I leave, and I really need to hear your voice right now."

"I will, I promise." She bites her lip nervously as Sam starts to approach her. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Britt." She's thankful when the other girl hangs up first, because she doesn't think she would have been able to do it. She cradles her phone in her hand and stares at the picture of Brittany that's still on display. Before her emotions can get the better of her, she hears footsteps enter the room, and she looks up to find Natalie hesitantly hovering by the door. "Hey."

"Everything okay?"

Santana gives her a small smile and nods her head. "Yeah, she's okay, she's gonna call again when she gets home." Natalie returns the smile, and is visibly relieved to hear that. "Thank you, for earlier. For calming me down, for caring."

"Of course," she waves off with a flick of her wrist.

She's incredibly thankful, and she does consider Natalie to be a friend, but she still feels a little weird around her, after being so vulnerable in front of her not too long ago. It was hard enough to open up and share her story with the other girl, but this was a whole other level, and now she's feeling a bit uncomfortable with it. "Uh, do you think Kat would mind if I ducked out early?"

"We'll cover for you," Natalie assures her, nodding her head in the direction of the bar, where the other girls are still gathered around and watching the news. "Go home and relax. We'll be okay without you for the day."

Santana sighs in relief and stands up, her legs a bit sturdier than they were before. She slips on her jacket and walks towards the other girl, stopping to give her an awkward hug on the way. "Thanks, again. For everything."

"I'm just glad your girl is okay," she tells her, letting out a laugh at how obvious Santana's discomfort is. The girl is a hard one to get through to, but something tells her that it's worth the effort. "Now go wait by the phone for her to call."

"Yeah," Santana laughs, pulling away. "I'll see you tomorrow." Natalie just nods, and Santana quickly leaves, throwing a quick wave at the other girls as she passes the bar.

She passes countless strangers on the street, and wonders if any of them came as close to losing everything as she did today. She hopes not, because she doesn't wish that pain on anyone.

"Brittany?"

The blonde offers Sam a smile as he approaches. "Hey."

"Are you, uh, are you okay?" he asks tentatively, like he doesn't want to talk to her, but really does want to know if she's okay, so he kind of has to.

"Yeah," she answers back, feeling a bit weird. Which is weird in itself, because she almost never feels weird or awkward, even when she knows she probably should. "It was a bit scary, but I'm okay now."

"Good," he says, nodding firmly. He rubs the back of his neck, not liking the awkwardness between them, before he sighs, giving in. "I'm glad you're okay, Britt."

Brittany feels a little bit of the tension leave, and she relaxes a bit. "Thanks, Sam. I'm glad you're okay, too."

"Your parents?" he asks, motioning towards the phone in his hand. Everyone else in the room has been frantically calling or answering calls from their parents since the threat was over.

"Oh, uh, no." She actually hasn't even thought of calling her parents. She should probably do that. She hesitates to answer for a moment. "Santana, actually."

"Right, of course," he mumbles, but there's a surprising lack of bitterness in his words. He kind of regrets asking, but it gives him the perfect opportunity to broach the topic. "Look, I'm sorry about the way I reacted that night. I was just hurt, and surprised. Though looking back, and after talking with everyone else, I guess I shouldn't have been. Apparently it was obvious to everyone but me that you were never that into me."

She wants to deny it, to make him feel better, because he looks so sad right now, but she can't. It's true, she never really was that into him. "I'm sorry, too. I never should have started dating you when I was still in love with Santana. It's just that you really did make me feel better, and you helped me forget for a bit, but it wasn't fair to you. You should be with someone that can love you the way I love Santana. And that you can love back the same way."

"Thanks," he tells her, for lack of anything else to say. That still hurts to hear, and he's not sure he was ready to have this conversation yet. But when he realized Brittany wasn't in the choir room, all he could think about was that she might die before he could make things right with her and he hated that thought. He's still hurt, but he's not mad at her anymore, and he wants her to know that. "Well, I better get back to Blaine, he's still freaking out. I just, after everything that happened, I didn't want to…"

"I get it," Brittany says softly, understanding how today's events can affect someone. She knows that everything with them isn't fixed or back to normal, but it's a good first step. She knows they're probably never going to be friends again, and that after high school is done, they likely won't see each other outside of New Directions reunions, but she would hate to end things so badly with anyone in glee club. They're her family. "Thank you."

He just offers her another smile, before he turns and heads back across the room. Brittany watches him for a moment, before her eyes drift to the rest of her friends, everyone embracing and offering words of comfort. Even though, thank God, nobody was hurt, it still feels like an ending somehow. Or, the beginning of an end, at least. She might not have left these people today, but she will. Some day really soon, this room and all of these wonderful people, will just be a memory to her.

She thinks she should be sad, but she's not. She's excited. Where she's going and who she'll be with, is so much more important than anything, and anyone, she'll be leaving behind.

Next chapter is the last one, I promise! And while I won't make promises on when it will be up, I'm really going to try for Wednesday at the latest. It's half done already, so fingers crossed. And to anyone reading my other fic (My Girlfriend's Sister's Keeper), I'm still planning on updating that eventually, it's not abandoned yet! Again, thanks for reading, and I'd love any feedback! PS: Anyone worried or hoping for Faberry based on the ambiguous Quinn sexuality stuff and the Faberry joke from Santana, it's not gonna happen. I just didn't want to make any one comment on Quinn's sexuality since this isn't about her and Santana has made jokes about their relationship in the past, so I just threw it in there. No hinting intended.