Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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Okay, I made the mistake of looking up the definition of a 'Mary-Sue,' on wikipedia... Now I have a new paranoid obsession to dwell on. And it probably wouldn't matter if every reader here wrote and told me I was being silly. Which they might not, for all I know. The point is, that's just how my mind works. And the true irony is, if irony is the word, that for a change, I'm actually pretty happy with how this chapter turned out... But that doesn't mean I still won't be picking it apart until the next one goes up. Maybe longer. Neuroses are wonderful things... Lol. Ah well, if this is the worst I have to deal with... All that... I'm doing pretty well.

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That had gone well.

Lydia wasn't so much surprised that her parents hadn't had a ready answer to her suddenly rebellious attitude, as she was certain that they'd think of one soon. So on her escape to her room, the first thing she did was cross to her dresser, pull her camera out of the top drawer, and face the mirror with an expression of frustrated defiance, ready to get as far from any of them as she could go.

"Babes… Not that I like being the voice of reason…" Beetlejuice began, popping in behind her with a look on his face that wondered what the hell he was doing, even trying, "Hell, can't stand it myself… But don't you think this is just gonna…?"

She turned on him shortly, no longer angry, just desperate beyond all reason to escape her problems for a while. "What's the furthest spot in the neitherworld, from here?" She demanded, not even letting him try to think of what he ought to be saying, which in its own way, was more than a little relieving for the poltergeist. Hell, he'd neverliked the voice of reason in his afterlife! Always spoiling people's fun.

Beetlejuice wrinkled his brow, trying to figure out how to answer that question. "Well hell, Lyds. The neitherworld don't work that way. It's all parallel… Nothing in it's any further from anything else." A pause then, "Come to think of it, that don't make shit for sense, does it? The whole thing can't be all side by side at once… But hell, I never was any good at math."

Math? Lydia gazed at him without understanding for a moment, before she came to her own conclusion. "So one spot's as good as another," She agreed, turning back to the mirror, "Thanks."

Before she could jump through though, he noted, not entirely willingly, "Running from your problems don't solve shit, babes. Trust me on this one. Hell knows I've tried enough times." And god knew he didn't expect her to listen to him, but to his surprise, she stayed in that position, hands dipped into the frame, foot on the handle of the bottom drawer, ready to push herself up and through… And just sort of waiting.

Then she turned, regarding him with what could only be called confliction, as well as a bit of puzzlement, and prompted suddenly, "You wanna run away with me, Beej?"

"Well hell, you put it that way!" He grinned, giving up his attempt at a responsible role model, which didn't do shit for him anyway. "I say we head somewhere with sun, surf, and hard liquor! Not to mention nude sunbathing, mandatory of course…" She smirked a little at this, before he paused, and in one last effort to do the damn right thing, he added, "Preferably in the living world. There sure as fuck ain't nothing that good in the neitherworld." Death ain't the way out, babes… He could remember her mother asking kind of the same thing, all those years ago… How to get 'in…'

"Doesn't matter to me." She agreed flippantly, obediently drawing from the mirror, and tucking her arm around his side instead. "Someplace I won't be carded, right? Mexico, maybe."

"Now you're talking, babes!" He agreed with a little cackle, trying not to notice how she was kind of avoiding his gaze, or the stiffness of her arm where she held him. "Tijuana, now that's the place to get good tequila!" He dropped his arm over her shoulder, and again, against his will, he noticed how she went slightly tense against him. And against every instinct he had to get her drunk and willing, now that she'd pretty much given him permission to do just this, he paused, and frowned. The girl was acting straight weird… For her, anyway.

"All right," He grumbled, eyeing her suspiciously, "What's the catch?" He wasn't one to offer comfort, or be all cajoling and know the right thing to say… But he just didn't like seeing her like this!

Lydia blinked, looked up at him, and considered him at length, with those same cold eyes she'd turned to her father. She'd gone numb, he realized with a little twist of his gut, she really was running away, from everything. Even him, and she was inviting him to go with her. Fuck that. "Snap the fuck out of it!" He growled, grabbing her by the arm, and giving her a good shake. "I want my babes back!" Like she was fucking possessed or something… Pissy moods though, he knew, could be just as damaging.

At first she just looked surprised, then slowly, angry. He didn't care, he shook her again. In situations like this in the movies, the broad would snap out of it better if you gave them a smack on the head, but for the death of him, he couldn't bring himself to hit her. And it was probably just shit anyway. So every time she opened her mouth to talk, to argue, he gave her another shake, until she was clearly finally, truly pissed.

And she showed it by decking him in the jaw, without warning. Rather hard.

He stepped back with a grunt, surprised at the force of the blow her tiny fist could inflict. He rubbed his chin with a frown… Damn, that hurt. But now the girl looked appropriately horrified, her jaw dropped, her eyes wide… Hell if he wasn't milking this for all it was worth.

His green eyes insulted, he retreated to the ceiling of her room, tipped back in a lounging position, giving her a dirty look. She probably wasn't done venting… Fine. Let her take it out on him then. Bottling that stuff up was poison for the dead, much less the living. She could make it up to him later. And getting yelled at was better than trying to be all touchy-feely with that emotion shit… He wouldn't even know where to start.

Weird how the last few days had been treating her though… Ever since he came back from hanging around with that what's-her-name. He'd only been gone for fucking three days, and she'd been fine before he left… And he was fucking here now… But who could figure out women? He rubbed his jaw again, making clear she knew she'd done damage, even though the pain had truthfully already receded. Not much hurt him for long…

"Beej…" She no longer looked the least bit angry, still just horrified. "I'm sorry, I didn't…" Of course, then the confusion welled up, and with a soft sigh, she folded, right there on the floor. "Damn. What is with me lately?" She protested softly. "When did I turn into such a bitch?"

Hmm, self pity. Also not the Lyds he was looking for. But at least a step forward from not giving a shit about nothing. "So how many personalities you got in that head now, Cybil?" He demanded, pretending to be angrier than he was. That just made her wilt a little…

Before she lifted her head, still unhappy looking, but with a trace of her old self in her eyes again. "I've had a shitty week," She said matter-of-factly, "And no one wants to give me time to get over it. What is with everyone attacking me from every side like this?"

Beetlejuice snorted. "I ain't attacked you for shit!" He denied vehemently.

"No…" She agreed with a sigh, folding her legs to her chest. "You've just been acting like I have some kind of new sign on my forehead… 'Interested in hot young jailbait? Look here!'"

He cackled at the idea, and couldn't resist snapping his fingers to produce a fitting plywood sign, to wrap her like a sandwich. She blinked, looking down at herself, and read the lazy, upside down scrawl, covering her own bold print words. 'Like you don't eat it up…'

It finally had the effect of making her giggle, and then, sigh, looking like maybe, for now, whatever bizarre moods had gripped her lately, were passed. Her lips twisted in a little amused moue, she noted softly, "I still wanna get the hell out of here for a while."

Beetlejuice shrugged, banishing the sign with a flick, and rolled up to a sitting position, resting his elbows in his lap. "So pick a den of sin, babes… New Orleans, Las Vegas, Tijuana… Fuck, you wanna talk seedy, there's spots in New York that can make all of them look tame!" He drifted down a little, curling his fingers at her with a smirk. "Come on babes, board the B-train for trouble, we'll have a blast… Or at least blow something up in the process! It'll be fun!"

Getting to her feet a little awkwardly, she eyed him with a smile as he patted his knee, waggling his eyebrows at her lecherously. "I am sorry, you know." She said softly, reflecting that she was saying it, again, when the words had to be pretty much alien to him. He just looked puzzled, and impatient, like he'd already forgotten what she was talking about.

Then he grunted, apparently remembering, and ran his fingers along his chin again, working his jaw in a sort of exaggerated way. "Could make it up to me…" He mused, in a slow drawl, all manner of ideas flicking across his gaze again. "Sure I could think of something…"

"I'm sure you could." She agreed, grimacing, but amused. It felt better not to be crazy pissed… But Beej could make pretty much any situation better, couldn't he? "Look, I got like twenty bucks saved up… Can I just buy you a halfway decent bottle of booze, or something?"

"Halfway decent?" He grunted, eyeing her with a frown. "Who the hell wants halfway decent? Look, save your money babes, I want whiskey, I'll steal it. Nah, got something else in mind for you…" His gaze got a thoughtful sort of look, as he now considered the 'problem' with a bit more seriousness.

It was a little strange then, when just as abruptly, his eyes flicked down to her, narrowed for a moment, and then, oddly, he seemed ready to dismiss the whole thing. "Naw babes, I'll tell you what. I'll take a rain check on that little favor you owe me. Wait until you're in a better mood."

Lydia made no mistake that this was Beetlejuice scheming, and wasn't sure how to take it. Sure, they'd joked around a lot over the years, pulled pranks on each other and all that, but she wasn't sure she'd ever been the center of his schemes before… Well, with the exception of the one binding, which was really her own damn fault anyway. "I don't trust you." She informed him matter-of-factly, just making him cackle away, like it was funny, or something. "Yeah, laugh your ass off…" She shook her head, still not upset anymore. "You just like keeping me on my toes…"

This was so close to what he'd thought of her, a dozen times or so over the years, that it just made him laugh harder. Then he clapped his hand down on his knee again, smirked at her, and reminded the girl smoothly, "Now what was that you were saying, about running away together, Lyds? 'Cause I solemnly swear," And he held up his hand, like he'd ever been a boy scout, "You and me? We will have fun, babes."

She giggled, and was about to answer, when she heard someone clearing their throat from the mirror, to gain her attention. Her head spun that way, her heart dropping somewhere in the depths of her guts, as she thought for one wild minute that Prince Vince was back to reintroduce even more unwanted drama into her life… When she saw Ginger leaning against the frame, considering her with a thoughtful pursing to her large, normally smiling mouth.

"Well hon, are you coming?" She asked, with a wave of her hand, like they'd had some plans Lydia had simply forgotten. "The Monster's party is gonna start any minute… Remember? Bad music, weird neitherworld treats…" She paused as she saw Beetlejuice in the background, his face breaking into a slow grin. "Uh-oh," She murmured, clearly seeing this as trouble, "Didn't know you had company, sugar. Maybe this can wait for another time, right?" Which made no sense at all, if the party was starting now

Unless of course, she took Beetlejuice's reputation into account. A grin, almost as sinister as her best friend's, spread itself across Lydia's face, and the girl looked from one to the other, with their matching trouble-making smiles, and looked a bit like she was now considering sitting the party out herself. "Oh, that poor Monster…" She murmured under her breath, "I just know he's gonna be mad at me for this…"

Lydia reached out, snagged Beetlejuice from midair, and cast him a look that on anyone but her, would have made him nervous. Instead he felt like he'd just won the beetle-bucks lottery, and it was all he could do, not to go off on one of his more maniacal laughs. Save that for later

All he said aloud, was, "B-words, babes."

Just as she was opening her mouth to say it the first time though, there was a low knock on the door, followed by the last voice she wanted to hear just then… Her father. "Lydia?" Something in his voice sounded, different. Not quite as certain as before. But she still didn't want to talk to him. "Can I come in?"

"Hell, no." She muttered under her breath, grasping to Beetlejuice with both hands now. "Get us out of here… Beetlejuice-Beetlejuice-Beetlejuice!" All almost in one word.

And like that, her dad became a problem she could deal with later… And meanwhile, maybe things in her life could get back to normal …

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"Goll-durn-it, Beetlejuice!" The Monster-Across-The-Street roared, every hair of his impressive ruff standing on end as he faced off against the poltergeist, brandishing his broken banjo. "I know it was you that put neither-mites in the salad! Now they're eatin' everything in sight, and- What have you done to mah Poopsie?"

All around them, the local ghosts and ghouls of the neighborhood were running around like madman, scratching themselves silly, jumping into punch bowls, and fighting over the garden hose. Beetlejuice just grinned his 'I-didn't-do-shit' grin, holding a large black and white cat out of sight behind him, as said dog went crazy at the temptation. "Me? Just trying to enjoy the party, pard'ner!"

About at this point, the Monster and his dog seemed to suddenly be bit by whatever was making everyone else itch. Poopsie went crazy, while the Monster tackled the closest cactus like a backscratcher, both momentarily forgetting Beetlejuice.

The only ones who seemed unaffected were himself, the cat, and Lydia. The last of which, couldn't decide whether to be pissed off at him, or piss herself laughing. She settled for an insane little sound, which could have been taken either as a giggle, or a sound of outrage. "What are you doing with Loki?" She demanded, lips pursed in an effort not to laugh. These were her friends he was tormenting… Well, some of them anyway. She didn't really give a damn either way about the rest.

Beetlejuice tipped his head, as if in thought, drew the cat, which looked utterly unimpressed, from behind his back, and considered him as if only now noticing just whose cat it was. "Dunno." He shrugged, still playing innocent. "Damn thing just showed up, so I decided to have a little fun." He held the annoyed looking feline in Poopsie's direction again, making the, ah, dog, go mad at the end of his leash. He seemed to think it was damn funny…

Snagging Loki from Beetlejuice's arm, if not in time to prevent the cat from giving the ghost a good solid taste of his claws in parting, Lydia sighed bemusedly, looked around, and wondered again what had everyone up in panic. "Beej…" She prompted slowly, softly, "What else did you do?"

"Why," He stood stiffly, trying to look dignified… And spoiling it with the way his lip kept twitching, "I am offended by the very suggestion. Clearly the Monster's devoted canine is merely suffering from a case of spectral fleas… And of course, they only affect those from the neitherworld…"

"Which doesn't explain why you're not scratching." Ginger noted, combing four of her eight 'arms' over her back in an attempt to reach her itch. "Besides, everyone knows there's no such things as spectral fleas… They're just a story!"

"Hmm." Beetlejuice was next to Lydia now, considering the cat that had caught him on the chin as well, drawing his fingers across the tiny drops of blood. In a tone only loud enough for Lydia to hear, he murmured matter-of-factly, "Spectral fleas, itching powder from 'Gags 'N Chains…' Hey, I'm working on a budget here!" He pointed at the cat, adding, "You're next, tabby!"

She'd rarely seen Beetlejuice quite so thoroughly enjoying such small-time pranks, and considered him curiously, wondering what he was up to. It was solved a moment later though, when he made a sweeping gesture with his arm around them, grinned at her, and inquired innocently, "Great party, huh babes? Feeling better yet? You know I am…"

Lydia made a small sound of annoyance with her tongue, and even managed to suppress her smile. "Stop torturing my friends to try to cheer me up." She ordered him sternly, certain that wouldn't really end the pranks… Just make him more careful who he pulled them on. "I'm in a perfectly good mood already." She pointed at the spider girl, adding, "Fix what you did to her, Beej."

"Huh." He looked annoyed at her lack of appreciation for his genius, gave an absent wave of his hand, and abruptly, a bucket of water appeared over her friend, tipping, and drenching her in lavender-colored suds. "That better?"

Ginger gave a little shriek of surprise, but broke off abruptly, her eyes growing wide. "I don't itch anymore!" She noted in puzzlement, droplets hanging from her long dark lashes, her pink silks clinging to her quite…

An odd fury swept Lydia as she realized Beetlejuice was now staring at the spider, quite bemused. She yanked off her own poncho, before she could question it any further, and threw it over her small pink friend, effectively blotting whatever image Beetlejuice was currently musing over, from his sight. The surprising thing was that when she did, he actually looked out of sorts, and wandered away, muttering under his breath.

Damn him! Couldn't he keep his brains out of his pants for two minutes? Lydia fumed as she led away Ginger, who didn't seem to understand the girl's sudden frustration. "You're not gonna get me dry that way, hon!" She protested, trying to hand the poncho back to Lydia. "And you need that to keep you warm!"

Lydia paused, crouched down a little, and whispered to Ginger softly, "I hate to tell you this… But, you can kind of see right through that outfit when it's wet, Ging."

The spider's eyes grew wide, and she made a little sound of horrified outrage, grabbing the poncho to her harder. It took her a moment longer to regain her composure enough to speak. "I- I got some dry clothes back at the apartment, sugar… Will you come with me? Even if I hate to leave Beetlejuice without anyone who can keep an eye on him…"

"It's just as well," Lydia admitted, in that same quiet voice, "I think most of what he's been pulling was to try to impress me, anyway." Ginger gave a little, embarrassed laugh, nodded, and took the goth girl by the hand, leading her to the building across the street.

Lydia had been in Ginger's place before, just not often. Because it was, well, small. She had to bend her knees to keep from hitting her head, and after just about a minute of that, decided to just sit down while Ginger got her things instead. So the spider fished around in her little pink chest of drawers, while Lydia sat holding the, now purring, Loki.

"So that's your cat, huh, hon?" Ginger prompted, stripping out of her clothes unabashedly before her friend… Who despite her curiosity, turned her gaze away. Her friend was not a freak show. "'Spose if Beetlejuice was telling the truth, he must be at least on his seventh life, then!"

The words caught Lydia briefly off guard, and then just as suddenly, she realized that here was a chance to have her earlier question about the animals answered. "Seventh life?" She echoed, a bit slowly. "So you mean that whole thing about cats having nine lives is true?"

Ginger made a small sound of distain, squeezing into a skirt that was really too tight, even dry. "Course not, sugar… Cats have thirteen lives, not nine. I mean, sure, some hang around with their humans until they're done with their haunting, you know, keeping them company… But then they're just born again and again, until they fill their quota. After seven times, they can come and go in the neitherworld pretty much as they please… But not many do."

Lydia pondered this. "And then what happens?" She asked softly, rolling over the fact that the cat in her arms had lived his life, and died, at least six times. "When they fill their quota, I mean?"

At this, Ginger paused briefly, turned to look at her living friend, and gave a small frown. "Funny thing… No one talks about that much. Guess 'cause no one knows… No one I've ever met, anyway. Maybe they go somewhere else… Someplace even further away than the living world."

"But I heard," And her voice dropped marginally here, like what she was about to say just wasn't intended for other ears, "That they're not the same, when they're done. You know, that they stop being either alive, or dead. That they're something else." A pause, and then a shake of her head. "But like I said hon, no one knows where they go. These days, no one even asks much, unless they're new. And no one likes talking about it… I don't know why."

When not much in life struck Lydia as eerie anymore, Ginger's words, accompanied by the look Loki was currently giving her, like he knew the secrets of life and death even better than she did… Well, it kind of creeped her out. And a small smile pursed her lips, as she enjoyed the slight chill that the idea of some even bigger unknown brought her…

Leaning close to Loki, she whispered for the cat alone, "When you figure out what's waiting, you come back and tell me, all right?" Loki though, just flipped his ears, looked suddenly bored, and stretched lazily. Any illusion of great mystery, gone.

Oh well. She scratched him under the chin, kind of liking the idea of some mystery even she couldn't solve, and only turned her attention away once Ginger was suitably dressed again… Currently considering her from the ceiling, which left them about at eye level, as she started to stand, assuming they were leaving.

"Hon, since that Beetle-fellah pretty much spoiled all the Monster's drinks out there, how about I get you a glass of spider cider, before we head back?" The light-hearted tap dancer offered, holding two hands under her chin in a way that just enhanced her wide lipped grin. "It's really good!"

Lydia considered her with an answering twist to her lips. "You know, I always wanted to try that stuff," She mused slowly, wondering again what it tasted like, "But I was never sure if it was made for spiders, or from spiders, so…" She paused at a look of slow horror spreading on her friend's face, and looked appropriately concerned. "What is it, Ging?"

"I just- I never thought about that before." The spider whispered, clearly horrified by the idea. "I always just figured…" She cast a thoroughly unhappy glance towards her little fridge in the corner, clearly cast into some sort of guilt consumed crisis by Lydia's innocent observation. "Oh my…" She murmured, in quite possible the smallest voice that Lydia had ever heard from the girl. "What have I been doing?"

The goth girl was left wanting to reassure her friend, to make up for her blunder, and utterly unsure how to do it. "I bet we could ask Beej," She offered at last, managing a smile she didn't really feel, as much as anything at the suggestion, "I mean, he eats spiders all the time, I bet he'd…"

But of course, this just brought a new horrified look from Ginger, who was now considering her as if she'd just confessed that her best friend routinely ate babies. "Come on, Ging," She murmured, unable to escape the sense that she was just digging herself in deeper and deeper, "It's not like you're a real spider, right? I mean, you were human once…"

"That was a very long time ago." Ginger informed her, with a look of clearly pressed patience, "And I been a spider for a lot longer than I was ever human, sugar. And even if I'm not a real spider, they're still like cute little versions of me, you know?" She shook her head slowly. "Like pixies, with eight little legs, and cute little threads."

Lydia decided that this wasn't the best time to point out that most spiders had cannibalistic tendencies anyway… "Just look at the ingredients," She advised instead, avoiding the previous line of discussion as thoroughly as possible. "I mean, they have a list, right?"

The spider girl just gave her living friend a long look. "Sugar," She said at last, sounding tired, if no longer quite as annoyed, "If you think people in the neitherworld want to know what's in the food they're eating, you obviously don't know the kinds of things we eat down here." This left Lydia, quite effectively, without anything to say.

"And I'm worrying too much about a little cider," Ginger went on, the set of her lips suddenly becoming annoyed, "When I've still got to go back out there and deal with that trouble-making poltergeist of yours. I'm really not surprised he tried to see me in my skivvies… What surprises me is that for a change, he ain't been hitting on me all day, like he usually does! That ghost can't usually keep his hands to himself for two minutes!"

Come to think of it, Beetlejuice really had been on his best behavior… sort of. Well, aside from the pranks. Usually he ended up with his arm halfway down someone's blouse by now, or his head up someone's skirt. It bothered her a little, reflecting that she might actually be having a good influence on him… He just wouldn't be Beetlejuice without being a lecherous pig… Until she reflected that it was probably just in an effort to get in her pants instead, and her world abruptly righted itself again.

But she had to give some sort of answer to Ginger, who was now giving her an odd little look, like she'd suddenly gained the ability to read minds… Or at least, tell when someone wasn't saying something. Lydia decided honesty was the best policy… At least in this case. "He's probably too busy trying to think how to get me all soft and willing at the moment," She muttered, with a little, oddly satisfied smile, "He'll wait until he's given up on that score, before he starts chasing random skirts again."

Ginger, oddly enough, looked horrified at Lydia's confession, her eyes wide, and her mouth opening and closing several times before she summoned the ability to speak. "But hon, he's known you since you were just a kid… Ain't that kind of disturbing?"

"Not really." Lydia confessed, sparing just one brief moment to wonder why that was so, before dismissing it. "Beej is Beej… He was bound to notice I grew up sooner or later. Anyway, I'm not gonna let it get in the way of us having fun." At Ginger's slightly wider eyes, she cast her a chastising glance, and added, "Not like that."

"But… he ain't gonna give up, sugar!" Ginger protested, as if this were really the worst thing the goth girl had to worry about, a little innuendo and lewd suggestions from someone who'd never gone out of his way to shield her from them before. "He ain't the type!"

"He also isn't the type to wait around indefinitely for me to give it up." Lydia pointed out, absolutely unmortified by the blunt way she was putting it, unlike her friend. "When I don't put out for long enough, he'll go off chasing some other skirt, and settle for just the occasional inappropriate comment instead. And he's always been inappropriate." A small smile. "I'm really not that worried, Ging. It's just a matter of waiting out his libido." She wondered at just what point she'd decided it would be that easy…

"Huh." Ginger didn't look too convinced, but with some difficulty, seemed to be trying to accept her friend's words. "So, um, you wanna go back to the party? That is, if your Beetle-fellah ain't completely destroyed it by now…"

"He'd probably wait until I got back to do that." Lydia noted dryly. A pause, then, guiltily, "I know I came looking for trouble, but I still feel kind of like an ass now, ruining everybody's fun."

"Oh, you didn't do that, sugar!" Ginger assured her quickly, looking only marginally out of sorts now. "Everyone knows you're not responsible for Beetlejuice!" And of course, Lydia just smiled, sort of going along with it…

But the truth was, she'd kind of been responsible for him now, since the first time she let him out… And she knew it.

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