A/N: My apologies on the wait, folks, but unfortunately the real world rears it's ugly head once more.

Many thanks, once again, to my wonderful beta, Gan Xingba, who is freaking amazing, and I have no idea why you're here reading this mess when you could be reading his stuff. He's still in the process of looking this one over for me, but because this chapter is a special exception, I'm posting as is with only minor tweaking for the time being. BUT, as soon as he's finished with the rest of the edits, I'll be making a repost of this. So, look for more to come.

This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful brain-clone Moon Step, whom has just graduated! Here you are, my lovely, a present for you (yeah, I know, I'm cheap )! Congratulations, and thanks so much for listening to my pathetic fanfiction drivel on a regular basis. Don't know what I'd do without you!

Anyway, enough rambling. Hope you all enjoy!

EDIT: All revisions have now been made. Thanks so much to everyone taking the time to read and review, it is much appreciated! And thanks again to Gan Xingba, who pointed out some serious issues in this one that needed patching up. He is, as they say, the shit. Peace, all.

Chapter Eleven

Well, it was official: The Gods hated him—at least as far as Hiei was concerned. Not only was he being forced to travel with that infuriating human female, but now he had to endure the torturous, incessant prattling of a hyperactive, dim-witted, inarticulate, demon oaf, who wouldn't shut up about said female. The fire apparition was sorely tempted to invest in a muzzle. All day. The demon had been rattling on all day long, and Hiei was at the end of his rather abused last nerve. His only consolation in the matter came in the fact that the wind master's attentions were focused solely on the girl, whom he was coming to realize was nearly as tired of the clueless idiot's continual chattering as he was.

He smiled, ever so slightly, from his place in the trees. He supposed it was worth it if it brought her some measure of discomfort. It served her right, the way he saw it. Payback for the royal pain in the ass she was turning out to be.

He sighed; for the life of him, he still had no idea what had possessed Kurama to do something so foolish as bringing a human girl into Makai. Demon slayer or not, the whole situation was just asking for trouble. That girl was going to be nothing but a distraction for the lot of them. Jin was a perfect example of that, already, the damned fool. At least the girl was a quiet nuisance.

He hadn't realized that he'd been watching them until she stirred uncomfortably and met his gaze through the firelight. Had he been anyone else he might have jumped at having been caught so unaware in his own actions, but, stubborn as he was, he focused the intensity of his stare directly on her, engaging her in a silent battle of wills.

To her credit, she did not immediately back down. The girl's gaze sharpened and she raised an eyebrow questioningly, almost daring him to come down and prove his point to her. Regardless, she had certainly proven hers: She wasn't about to be intimidated by him.

Unfortunately, the overall dramatic impact of her unvoiced statement was totally destroyed when Jin burst out into uproarious laughter and clapped her on the back abruptly, causing the demon slayer to nearly jump out of her skin and squeak like a mouse, which, in turn, caused the wind apparition to break out in a renewed fit of laughter.

"Aye girl!" he agreed heartily, misunderstanding her reaction, "that's exactly how I felt about it!"

She offered him a half-hearted grin at the anecdote, and Jin continued his story happily, oblivious to the exchange, despite the frustrated snort and nasty glance she'd gifted the fire apparition with as he did.

Hiei smirked triumphantly, pushing aside his annoyance at having their little contest interrupted in favor of amusement. So long as it was at her expense, he could deal with it.

"You certainly seem interested in something."

Hiei did jump then. He turned to the intruder standing on a neighboring bough and pinned him with a scalding glare. "What do you want?" he barked hatefully.

The ice master seemed thoughtful for a moment, letting his gaze drift to the pair conversing somewhat amiably around the fire. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he focused once again on Hiei. "Maybe I should be asking you that."

The fire apparition set him in the heat of a rather condescending stare, the muscles of his face etched in stone except for the vein throbbing in annoyance at his temple. "Don't tell me you'd be stupid enough to believe that rubbish," he snorted. "She's human," he spoke, as though it were explanation enough, tone a careful mix of overall disinterest and blatant distaste.

Touya shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not my concern whom you lust after one way or another," he replied calmly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Besides, who said I was talking about her?"

Hiei's eyes widened and he sputtered angrily. "Don't be ridiculous, you fool!" he yelled, actually going so far as to draw his sword as he did. But Touya was gone before his katana had cleared its sheath. He did, at least, have the sense to know when it was in his best interests to leave, it seemed.

Granted, that wasn't going to save him from one, or more, of the rather colorful means of torture Hiei had in mind. Hmm…he wondered if he'd be able to pick up turpentine and thumbscrews in Akuma…


"You know, it isn't wise to get on his bad side," Kurama spoke, never looking up from the street schematics he'd been studying for the last hour. A coincidental acquisition from a run-in with a group of less than adept youkai bandits earlier in the previous day, but one he was certainly grateful for. Unfortunately, the charts also appeared to be about a hundred and fifty years old, and he was reasonably certain that more than a few things had changed since in that time. Still, he was satisfied. Beggars can't be choosers, or so the human saying went. "When were you in Akuma last?"

"About two months ago," Touya replied, taking a seat on the ground next to Kurama and peering over his shoulder. "And I'm not on anyone's side of anything," he responded smoothly, then added as an afterthought, "unless it's my own."

The fox looked up then, raising a skeptical brow. "From whose standpoint?" He shook his head, "I can assure you," he spoke absently, spreading the charts out in order on the ground before them. "He may be forbidden to shed human blood, but he has no such restrictions or qualms where demons are concerned…how much of this has changed?" he asked, gesturing to the maps.

The shinobi studied them intently for several minutes before picking up a page from the middle and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "This isn't even here anymore," he said laying it out to the side. "The North end of town is much the same as it was, but here," he pointed, "this has been overrun with gangs; we don't want to approach from there. The West side is still the quietest part of the city. I'd suggest coming in from here," he pointed again to another section of map, "around the old warehouse district…you know, I'm flattered, Kurama," the demon spoke with some amusement, "I didn't know you cared so much for my well-being."

"I don't." The reply wasn't malicious, just a simple statement of fact. "He does not work well with others as it is; things will be difficult enough without squabbling amongst ourselves."

"Well damn it, Kurama, you take the fun outta everythin'." Both demons paused, looking over their shoulders to find the source of the comment looming over them, a typically goofy grin set in place. "And 'ere I was lookin' forward to whippin' ol' shorty's arse a time or two."

"Not likely," came the sharp retort from across the campsite.

Jin chuckled, a mirthful gleam in his eyes despite the heated glare that he felt drilling through the back of his head. With mischief written all over his face, he leaned down and lowered his voice to speak in something of a hush. " Between you and me, I think he's just jealous cause my sword's bigger."

Kurama's eyes widened, and Touya erupted in a hearty laughter. It escaped no one's notice that Jin did not carry a sword. Kurama, however, was the first to shake it off. He peered around both sides of the demon's legs curiously, eyes scanning the rest of the site when apparently he did not find what he'd been searching for. The fox arched a curious brow and turned his attention back to the wind master, a frown etched into his face.

"Where is Sango?"

"Ah, she's just cleanin' up a bit before bed," he replied, crossing his legs and hovering in a seated position in the air.

"And you let her go alone?"

"Take it easy, man, ya ain't gotta worry 'bout that one none." He made a show of his left eye, which was still a rather vivid shade of purple and nearly swollen shut, to emphasize his point. "She can handle herself. Besides," he added when Kurama seemed as though he needed a bit more convincing, "she's got her kitty cat with her."

The fox sighed, knowing Jin was probably right yet still not entirely comfortable with the matter. He knew the slayer wouldn't have allowed anyone to follow her anyway, but he had rather hoped that after the last time she might have at least let someone linger at a safe distance. After all, there were demons capable of far more unpleasant things than death…

"Regretting our decision now, are we?"

"As I recall, Hiei, it wasn't our decision," Kurama thought matter of factly, "and I regret nothing. I am simply concerned for her safety."

"I'm insulted, Kurama," the demon taunted. "I can't remember the last time you worried for me like that."

"Do forgive me," he began, never missing a beat, "I was unaware you were so at risk for being raped and eaten. If it will ease your mind, I'll be sure to stand guard the next time you bathe."

He felt as much as heard the irritated snort in his mind, signaling the end of Hiei's patience with their conversation, and the fox allowed himself just a small smile at the fire demon's expense.

"If you follow me while I bathe I'll—"

"Kurama?" came the slightly sharper voice of the ice master, shaking him back into the conversation at hand mid-threat. "Are you listening?"

"Forgive me, I was…preoccupied," the kitsune offered by way of apology.

Touya focused on him sharply before letting his gaze travel to the taller branches of the tree in which Hiei was currently taking up residence with more than a hint of suspicion. "A contact," he spoke after a few moments, shaking it off and returning his attention to Kurama as though it was nothing, though the kitsune was certain that he didn't simply dismiss the incident. "Here, on the upper East end of the city. We can pass through the industrial tunnels; I think it's our best bet to go unnoticed."

"A contact? Really…" Kurama trailed off, tilting his head curiously and mulling it over. "And you think this contact will have useful information?"

Touya grinned, amusement clear in the frosted blue of his eyes. "Trust me, he always knows something."

The fox looked over their course for several moments before nodding his acceptance. "Alright," he said firmly, rolling up the charts and slipping them back into their container. "I'll take the first watch tonight. The rest of you get some sleep; we are going to need all the energy and strength we can get tomorrow."

Jin smiled pleasantly, offering a stiff, two-fingered salute and a "yes, sir!" in jest before excusing himself to the base of a nearby tree and plopping down in the dirt, arms folded behind his head. Touya stood and bid the fox a good evening with just a slight inclination of his head before making his way closer to the fire and stretching out on the ground in a similar fashion. Hiei, of course, stayed precisely where he was and said absolutely nothing.

Kurama stood and stretched, working the kinks out of his muscles from having been seated on the ground for so long, and then made his way over to his pack to put away the parchments he'd previously been studying. Similarly, he took the small, glass bottle from his pocket, rolling it over in his hand to watch the fragment glitter with the firelight from inside, and began to place it in a hidden pouch but then thought better of it. He pocketed the bottle once again, having wisely decided that he'd rather keep it on his person than out of immediate reach.

Arrangements made and cohorts settled, he slipped away to the edge of the clearing, preparing to take up watch from the point closest to the direction he suspected the slayer had gone. He wouldn't go so far as to follow her, but he could at least be readily available, within hearing distance, should she run into trouble.

He'd just stepped to the tree line when the girl in question emerged from the darkness and met him face to face rather abruptly, causing them both to jump in surprise.

"Gods!" Sango exclaimed before she could stop herself, bringing a hand to rest on her heart as though the action would slow it down. "Oh, Kurama! It's only you," she breathed, easing the blade she'd released from her sleeve back into place subtly. "You scared me to death!"

The fox let a relieved chuckle escape his lips, dropping the hand he'd slipped to the base of his neck with the same tact as she, though he hadn't missed her reaction for a second and doubted very seriously that she had missed his. "Forgive me, I did not hear your approach."

"Yes, well, I just wanted to get a bit more comfortable before I settled in," she explained. "Kirara found a bit of fresh water." The demon cat meowed at the mention of her name, tails swishing happily as she looked between the two. "It's not enough to bathe, but certainly enough to wash up a little…I could show you to it, if you like."

Kurama felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips, pleased with the ease of her tone. She was still minutely tense, but he didn't mind. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day. "No, thank you, that won't be necessary."

"Right," she breathed, turning to face him after she'd stepped by, putting her back toward camp and looking just slightly flushed. He turned to her as well, thinking perhaps to continue their conversation, but the words seemed to have left them, and they stood there for several long, silent moments, toeing the dirt and feeling awkward.

"Well," Sango finally continued. "Good night, then."

"Yes, good night," he responded.

The girl turned to leave, when the decidedly dissatisfied growling mewl from her feline companion stopped her mid-stride. She cast a sidelong glance at the neko, whom hadn't budged from her spot, and let out a heavy breath. "Okay, okay," she whispered heatedly, turning back to Kurama, who honestly wasn't certain what the whole exchange was about, but was no less amused by it.

"Look, I…" she trailed off, looking everywhere but at him as she searched for the words. "I'm…well…"

"It's all right," he intervened, suddenly realizing what she'd been going to do. "You don't have to say it," he said earnestly, moving past her in his way toward the fire.

"No!" she said hurriedly as her hand shot out to take his wrist on impulse, and she met his gaze for the first time that evening—maybe the first time ever. Kurama stopped short, surprised at the raw emotion he found there, the sincerity and the shame he'd never thought to be privy to. And the kitsune was touched in knowing that she'd deliberately dropped her guard to him, even for the most fleeting of moments, in the need to make him understand and the hope of making amends.

"No," she continued, looking away and releasing her grip on his wrist with flaming cheeks, though she plowed on, heedless of her embarrassment. "I owe you an apology. I'm sorry. For everything. You've been good to my friends and me—helped us when we've needed it most—and I've treated you terribly. Gods, I never even thanked you for healing me. Twice. Or the time you packed me inside when I was paralyzed. And then there was that whole taking you hostage thing…" the last was said with no small amount of annoyance at herself Kurama couldn't help but notice, and he might have stopped her here, but she kept going, rattling on nervously and determined not to let him get a word in edgewise. "…Implying that you were some sort of raging pervert, which honestly I should have known better. It's not like you're M—" she stopped suddenly and took a deep breath to collect her thoughts.

"Yes," Kurama grinned, thinking it over, "it seems you've been quite busy."

She smiled faintly at that, returning her focus to his eyes once again in spite of her shyness and exhaled deeply. "The point is, I'm truly sorry. My behavior has been inexcusable. And while I know that I am undeserving, I'd very much like to start over again. If it's alright with you, that is."

The fox smiled fully; there had been no need for apologies as far as he was concerned, but he realized what it must have meant for her to offer one. "I accept your apology, Sango," he replied, a little surprised at how good it felt to hear her say it and to openly accept the admission.

What slight tension she'd been harboring appeared to melt with his acceptance and Kurama couldn't help but smile even wider, if it was possible. It seemed that clearing the air had been what they both needed.

"Thank you, Kurama." She turned and left, then, without hesitation for a response or backward glance, though there was a certain lightness in her step that had him chuckling softly as he watched after her. He settled on the ground at the edge of camp, leaning his back against a particularly tall tree and looking up at the cosmos with a satisfied grin in place.

"Thank you, Sango."


"You'll need to put these on," Touya said, handing a set of robes over to Kurama, as Jin dropped another on the woman, letting it slip into place over her clothes…well, maybe not entirely into place. He circled the girl, scrutinizing the fit of the garment as she tried, unsuccessfully, to paw her way out of the hood with ten miles of excess fabric hanging from her arms. Oversized, it appeared, would have been a dire understatement.

Jin chuckled aloud and reached out to assist her, laying the hood back to expose her face, and Sango blew a steady stream of air straight up to remove the hair from her eyes, looking for all the world like a child in play clothes as she did. She held her arms out, looking down to examine herself.

"This isn't going to work like this," she said, only slightly annoyed with the way Jin kept pulling and tucking at the article, as though she couldn't handle the matter herself. Two days ago, he might have pulled back a bloody stub from reaching out to touch her like that—not that he was being entirely inappropriate, but given the way they had started their acquaintance, it was a miracle she was letting him stand next to her at all. However, if there was one thing Sango had come to understand about him in the very short time she'd known the wind master, it was that Jin, no matter how loud, brash, or…overzealous he might be, was impossible to stay mad at. He was simply too good-natured.

"I'm going to trip over my own feet."

"We could always cut them off." Unfortunately, she couldn't say the same for all her companions.

Sango fixed the fire apparition with a particularly harsh glare, which he returned, entirely unrepentant. Well, they were certainly in a good mood this morning.

"You know, that's not a bad idea."

"Hey!" she protested indignantly, redirecting her scowl to the fox.

"Cutting that is," Kurama amended, digging through the pack. He smiled, emerging with a pair of scissors that the Gods only knew why he had (though Sango was beginning to get the impression that no matter what the situation, Kurama would be prepared for it) and turned to him. "May I?"

The ice master clearly wasn't keen on the idea, though he did seem to be thinking it over. He looked to his fellow shinobi, who merely shrugged his shoulders, and let out a heavy sigh. "All right," he consented after a moment, "but only along the bottom. And mind the ornamentation."

The exterminator lifted a curious eyebrow at this, and Jin pulled up the hem of the robe, exposing the intricate design and obsidian beads woven into the layers underneath. "The Black Rosary," he explained quietly, running a reverent finger along each pattern. "Every bead is a demon blessing, and each design, a part o' Hell's Zodiac." He winked at her cheerfully and continued on, oblivious to the way she paled at his explanation; her father must be rolling in his grave right about now.

"It's a powerful magic, darlin'. Subtle. So long as you're wearin' that, you're safe. Ain't nobody gonna find ya that cha don't want."

He bent down closely then, too close for Sango's comfort, and hooked a finger under her chin, tilting it up so he might better meet her gaze. The demon slayer blushed right down to her toes; had it not been for the fact she'd have tripped over Kurama, who was making alterations, she'd have bolted fast enough to make even Hiei's head spin.

"No matter what you do," he began, a seriousness to his expression she'd not previously seen, "don't ever take it off, Love. Ever. Not so long as we're in the city. Just leave the hood up, be quiet, and stay close to me. Do ya understand?"

For a moment, Sango saw red. What the hell did he think she was, stupid or just weak? But just as she took a deep breath and prepared to tell him exactly what she understood, she noticed the look in his eyes, and her argument deflated. No condescension or spite burned in that deep, blue gaze, only anticipation and concern for her welfare, and Sango instantly felt guilty. One would think that after the situation with Kurama, she would have learned a little something about jumping to conclusions where demons were concerned.

Deliberately, she relaxed herself and offered him a slow nod in response. The wind master smiled brightly, eyes sparkling with mirth as he let go of her chin and stood upright, cuffing her playfully on the shoulder as he did. "That's my girl!"

Her cheeks colored again, and Sango glanced down to Kurama, who was on his knees before her, trimming up the last of the robe and looking up at her, amusement plainly written on his features. Now, just what was so damn funny? Her dark eyes narrowed on him but widened immediately in surprise and embarrassment as the wind master put an arm around her and proceeded to squeeze the stuffing out of her.

Kurama's smile, of course, only grew. Exponentially.


Shizuru watched the fire dance in her fingertips until the wood was nearly spent before she finally lit the end of her cigarette and then blew the flame into nonexistence. She took a long, slow drag, feeling the smoke curl into her lungs with satisfaction and made an inarticulate sound in the back of her throat as she slid down her bedroom wall and came to rest on her bottom, looking out the second floor picture window with unseeing eyes.

Four days. It had been four days since Shizuru had seen her brother, and while she knew the big lug could handle himself, that didn't stop the block of ice that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach from freezing her inside out. Something was wrong in the city. She would have known it even without the giant demon bug infestation. She could feel it; right down to her bones, Shizuru could feel it.

It didn't take a genius to know that Kazuma and Yusuke were right smack in the middle of it, either.

Shizuru sighed, a long steady stream of smoke drifting from between her lips. Why couldn't he just listen to her once in a while? He should be at home doing his homework right now, preparing to earn a place in the world, not saving it. Honestly, what did he think he was doing out there, anyway? He couldn't even do his own laundry much less prevent the apocalypse. And it wasn't like he could put 'Spirit Detective' down on a resume. 'The idiot…'

The shrill ringing of the telephone shattered the quietude, and Shizuru exhaled heavily, a thick cloud unfurling from her mouth as she lazily picked up the receiver, already knowing precisely who was on the line.

"Hey Keiko," she said, smashing the butt of her cigarette out in the overfilled ashtray at her side. The detective's girlfriend had finally broken down and called her the previous morning…and hadn't stopped calling since.

Shizuru toyed with the matchbook in her hand, seemingly more interested in that than the conversation she was having. "Un-uh," she answered in the negative. "…un-uh…no…nope…your guess is as good as mine," she spoke rather unenthusiastically, taking another cigarette from the pack.

"Look kid," she began after another lengthy pause, her voice muffled around her indulgence. She exhaled heavily as she removed the obstacle from her mouth. "Don't lose sleep over it, alright? I'm sure it's nothing they haven't handled before," she lied unflinchingly. Why tell her? Nothing they could do about it, anyway.

She paused, nodding every so often and finally let out a long sigh, realizing that Keiko was every bit as stubborn as Yusuke gave her credit for. She was apparently not going to let this drop.

"Alright, alright," she conceded. "Tell ya what: I'm off tomorrow. Come on over after school's out, and we'll see what we can't dig up."


A long, agonizing groan filled the air as Kuwabara pulled up from his knees, his stomach already protesting the movement and his vision speckled with gray pixels.

Damn, but he was beginning to hate the Spirit World.

"Hey," came the tired response from somewhere to his right. "Are you okay? You're looking a little peaked."

Kuwabara nodded weakly, knowing just as well as the monk that peaked didn't even begin to cover it. Granted, he was getting along better now than he had been when they'd first entered the realm; he did, at least, have his spirit awareness back, but Kuwabara was beginning to realize that his body may never fully adjust to their surroundings. Especially not after what he'd put it through back at the cave.

He suppressed a shudder and swallowed down the coil of fire building back up in his gut having just thought about it. "Yeah," he spoke, muffled through his palm, before spreading his fingers to stretch across his face and rub his chin. "Yeah, I'm fine. What about her?" he gestured to the girl curled into a ball by their belongings. "Any change?"

"No," Miroku replied, looking only slightly better off than Kuwabara, himself. "An invasion such as this one puts great stress on the body—even an immortal one; there is no way of knowing how long she'll be out."

Kuwabara sighed, turning his gaze to the distant river. He hadn't said it, but Kuwabara wasn't stupid. He'd heard the hesitation in his voice and knew what he'd been thinking...what they'd all been thinking, although none had yet given it a voice.

Botan might not ever wake up.

Kuwabara had hope, though. Even though it had been three days since the incident at the cave, he, himself, had been awake for just one. And he was a mere human; if he could come out of it, then Botan could, too. He was certain of it.

Still, it didn't change the fact that she looked so...small lying there; fragile—like she was cut from glass. He made his way over to the reaper, taking a seat by her in the dirt, and hoping that just being near might help his friend from the dark, because he knew for certain that she was there.

He'd seen it himself. In fact, Kuwabara would say he'd seen too many things...

He'd never be able to say exactly what had happened when he touched her; he knew nothing but blinding, excruciating pain, at first. Ice ran the gamut of his veins, freezing them solid and scalding him from the inside as though he'd swallowed lava. Kuwabara rather thought it something akin to the electric chair.

And then came the dark. A shroud of malcontent fell over his mind as he felt things there he'd never known. Places he'd never seen. People he'd never met. Snippets of times most horrific—all brutal and bloody and agonizingly familiar. A woman raped to death in the streets. A tiny child beaten until his last painful, blood-filled breath. A man disemboweled and his children burned... He'd sobbed in anguish and pain more intense than ever before, rending his heart in two as he felt each moment—each terror-induced scream and excruciating death as keenly as though it were his own. Kuwabara closed his eyes to the abyss and aged one hundred years in a single, ragged breath.

And when he opened them again, he was at home in bed, staring back at himself—a small boy once more—in the reflection of shattered glass as Shizuru read to him the stories of their youth. Of the world beyond and the birth of a God. It was a tale he only now understood. One hundred Hells: The price of a deity's soul.

He breathed heavily, and his stomach rolled over again as he brushed his fingertips through her hair. He'd known then, even before waking, that things would never be entirely the same for them after this. Their souls had touched. He'd been given a glimpse of what no mortal should know, and they were bound to one another, now, by more than just friendship.

And, if it meant saving her, he would do it all over again.

The shuffle of tall grass reached his ears, and Kuwabara stiffened. The monk shifted the grip on his staff from beside him, and they waited with tense shoulders and eyes of stone for the intruder to make himself known.

"The Eastern trace is clear."

Kuwabara found his breath again as the kitsune stepped out from the underbrush. It was about damned time. They'd sent him out hours ago.

"Come," he continued, dropping to his knees beside Botan and arranging her carefully for travel. "It's nearly dusk," he said as he swept her still form up onto his back. "The hounds will be upon us soon."

The Hell-Hounds. Ravenous, mindless creatures sent from the deepest pits of Spirit World, hoping to feed on the souls of living intruders. 'Spirit World Security,' Shippou had called them. Kuwabara had yet to see them, but Miroku had informed him all about them. It seemed that he and Shippou had had more than their share of trouble after they had fallen into the shadows.

"Can you form your spirit sword?" Shippou inquired, to which Kuwabara nodded in the affirmative. "Good. You're going to need it."


A/N: Thank you so much to all of you whom have been so very patient with me. Your reviews and kindness really brighten my day and keep me hanging with this one even when I'm not so sure I should. You've all been wonderful!

Now, I know I probably don't deserve it, but if you could all find it in yourselves to please feed the author, I'd very much appreciate it. I'd really like to know how you all felt about the chapter. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoyed this little tidbit of mine.

Peace, all.