Forest Hills Gardens, Queens, New York – Mary-Jane Watson, having sufficiently recovered from the initial trauma of her fight with the mysterious interloper, cautiously stepped over the body, heading towards Jessica, who was largely out of sight. Or at least, she would have been, if not for the unseemly blood trail. MJ might have been rather bruised and battered, in addition to the open wound in her side from the would-be assassin's tendril, but she was far more concerned with Jessica. Please be okay, she thought, thinking about the time when Peter had received a gunshot wound from a cop, after the police had assumed he was responsible for a rash of robberies.

Steeling herself for the worst, MJ approached the desk and knelt down, peering into its recess.

"Jessica, are you…" MJ trailed off, the color draining from her face.

Oh man…

Pale and shivering, Jessica hadn't appeared to hear anything MJ had said yet. Her head was crammed up against the wall and the underside of the desk, her eyes closed, with erratic breathing. Her right hand was locked in a death grip with her left shoulder. It seemed as though her hand had staunched the wound, preventing any further bleeding, but MJ couldn't be certain. Not that it seemed to matter, since the entire sleeve seemed to be soaked in blood. In addition to the grisly sight, Jessica was also sweating, no doubt due to the shock of getting shot.

MJ took a deep breath and leaned in, careful to keep any blood from staining her own clothing.

"Jessica? I really need you come out now. It's okay now. We're going to get some help," MJ said, her arm reaching out to help Jessica up.

Upon hearing her name, Jessica opened her eyes, still shaking. Upon seeing MJ, her eyes widened in terror, causing her to recoil.

"Stay away!"

"What? But I'm just trying to—"

"Don't touch me! Please! I—I—"

MJ leaned in. "I just want to—"

Somehow, Jessica managed to squeeze herself into an even tighter ball. "GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU—YOU FREAK!"

MJ hesitated, but tried again. "I'm just trying to—"

Jessica's breathing was growing more erratic. "You—you're going to hurt me, aren't you? For—for what I saw?

"What? I don't—"

"Please. I just—I just…

Jessica didn't finish her line of thought, but instead just stared at MJ, eyes wide with terror. MJ knew that, no matter what she said, she wouldn't be able to convince her to come out from under that desk. Any notion of stoicism she was trying to project to set Jessica at ease vanished. Instead of trying to will Jessica out, she retracted her arm and stood up.

She thinks I'm a monster, MJ thought, looking downward. Great. Guess that confirms it.

Self-pity will not serve us now. We must take action.

Really? What if she doesn't want my 'action?' Or my help? You saw her, right? She's scared of me. She thinks I'm going to…hurt her.

She's in shock. The wound she received must be treated to prevent any further physical or emotional stress.

But she doesn't want my help. Don't you get it?

If we need some time to recalculate, than we must call in her death.

Excuse me? What are you talking about? That doesn't even make any—

I'm referring to our former opponent. He has a cell phone. Protocol dictates that after a kill has been completed, the asset must radio in. Doing so will give us more time.

Oh. MJ turned ever so slightly towards the body of the man who tried to kill both her and Jessica. She didn't want to look too closely, however, but only retained peripheral eye contact. She couldn't will herself to move any closer to this man.

Call it in.

I'm going, okay? God. MJ thought, taking a tentative step forward. But she had to stop again, because even if she was looking down at the floor more than the body, she knew that if she had approached him from this direction, she'd see his face. MJ began to feel herself beginning to seize up.

I can't do this.

You can. We can.

MJ clenched her hands into fists, carefully sidestepping the kitchen island, approaching from a different angle. The creature's words were actually encouraging her to go ahead, much to her surprise and relief. While it's true that MJ still was eager to rid herself of the symbiote that had latched onto her, she was quite comforted by its reassurances and support. It had saved her life, after all, allowing her to escape the chokehold the intruder had placed her in, and was now nudging her along ever so gently, giving her extra time to work up the courage to try and get help for Jessica.

All right, MJ thought, kneeling down, let's find a cell phone. She began by feeling out the pockets of his pants, finding nothing more than a wallet and some car keys. Careful to not leave any fingerprints, she reached up to the kitchen island and grabbed a napkin before slowly removing his keys and wallet, to see if she could find any sort of identification. However, she still couldn't find a cell phone, so she looked upward, her gaze accidentally ending up on the man's face.

MJ shut her eyes, turning her head away from the body. She may have only caught a glimpse, but it was enough for her, his eyes staring blankly upward, with no movement at all. What's happening to me? I actually killed someone.

It was self-defense.

It was murder! I can't believe I've been this stupid. I can't believe you let me think that it was better for me out here than with S.H.I.E.L.D. This was a mistake. All of it.

Are you certain of that? If we weren't here, how would she have protected herself?

It wouldn't have happened. Something else would've—

How do you know?

MJ couldn't think of a response. I don't—

What's done is done. Jessica may be injured, but she can survive. There was no other way to resolve this. He was programmed to kill.

Just like me, MJ thought with disgust. I can't go on like this if—if this is all it's going to be. Killing people…I can't do this. It has to stop. Now.

The creature didn't reply immediately, making MJ wonder if it was in silent agreement with her ultimatum, or if it was done arguing with her. Not that it matters now, MJ thought, turning to look back at the body. I guess this is who I am now, MJ thought with resignation. She might have been glum, but at the same time she felt a little more at ease, more capable of taking care of what needed to be done. While incarcerated at the Triskelion, MJ had an enormous amount of self-pity and resignation over the death of her mother, but she still had refused to accept her role in it. While she may not have said it when Peter had visited her, there was a small, rapidly receding section of her mind which had remained in denial over the killing of her mother. A part of her that blamed the creature more than herself, since she thought she wasn't conscious at the time. But seeing what she had done to this man, this would-be killer, MJ could no longer conceal it. She was responsible for what had happened to her mother, and what she had done to this man had proven that.

Gotcha, MJ thought, as she felt the familiar blocky shape of a cell phone in the man's jacket lining. She traced it up before finding the opening, carefully pulling the phone out. Flipping it open, she saw that a text message was already displayed on the screen.

ASSET LASHER HAS GREEN LIGHT. REPORT UPON COMPLETION.

MJ quickly hit the reply button.

What do I say?

Tell them the subject has been removed.

Removed? MJ thought, typing in the creature's suggestion. What's wrong with 'Eliminated?' Too much like 'The Terminator?'

Neither is acceptable. The connotation is too strongly associated with killing.

And we wouldn't want them to think that, MJ thought, hitting the send button. She had looked back over in Jessica's direction for only a few seconds before the phone had buzzed. She looked back down at the screen.

EXFILTRATE FROM LOCATION IMMEDIATELY WITH FILES. INCOMING GRAB TEAM WILL DO A FINAL SWEEP OF HOUSE AND REMOVAL OF SUBJECT. ETA IN TWENTY MINUTES.

After reading the text message, MJ just zoned out, staring intensely at the keypad on the cell phone, processing the , after a few seconds, MJ snapped the phone shut, dropped it, and walked back over to the desk.

"Uh, Jessica?"

Queens, New York – While MJ was reconciling her abilities with her recent history; Carter had been speedily cleared by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s medical staff, thanks in part to the director, and was back out in the field, heading toward the Parker household.

"So what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'm still sore," Carter replied. She had been unconscious for about twenty-four hours, and was trying to remember if she had hit her head on anything before the gas had knocked her out in Watson's cell. Plus there was still some stiffness from being stuck in bed for an entire day.

"I meant about Parker."

"Of course."

Woo smiled. He enjoyed bouncing off of Carter, much like they had done on prior assignments. And while it wasn't ideal that they were trying to track down another emotionally damaged, super-powered genetic anomaly, he could at least get some amusement out of the situation. Especially given what had happened to Carter.

"You sure you don't want me to take over? Give you a little longer to recover from your nap?"

Carter sipped her bottled water after popping another ibuprofen, courtesy of the Triskelion's medical wing. "Be my guest. You know about as much as I do."

"I'll think about it," he said, turning onto the street the Parkers were on. "But I think you get along much better with Danvers. Plus you wouldn't want to break your promise to the kid."

"I'm going to regret telling you that, aren't I?"

"Probably," Woo said with a grin, pulling up to the curb and shifting the black Town Car into park. "Although I do hope we have a game plan for going in there?"

"Of course we do," Carter said, opening the passenger side door and putting on her sunglasses. "Ask him if he knows where she was going."

"I hate this."

"I know what you mean, dude."

"I could've been out there helping her! Instead of getting babysat by S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Yeah, he seemed like a real putz."

Peter looked at Gwen. If he weren't so upset, he probably would've joked about how Gwen seemed to be picking up his Yiddish. But he had other things on his mind.

An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. had managed to intercept the two of them after their brief meeting with MJ. After he had introduced himself, he had then radioed in to headquarters and had then given them a ride to Aunt May's house. In Peter's eyes, everything this agent had done was counterproductive. Peter might have lost track of MJ when she had first ran off, but after a quick change into his costume, he would have easily been able to follow her. Of course, he still hadn't figured out what he would've done when he caught up to her, but it probably would've been better than what he was doing now, laying on the floor of his upstairs bedroom with Gwen by the windowsill.

"You have no idea," Peter replied.

"Really? Did you forget about the time I was over there? No one knew what they were doing," Gwen said, leaning back.

"Oh yeah," Peter replied. "My bad."

"It's cool. You've got a lot on your mind."

"No kidding," Peter said, staring up at the ceiling. If I just had those notes…

Peter saw Gwen look over at him. He looked up at her and caught that familiar mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Y'know Pete, if you wanted to, you could probably—"

Just then, the sound of a door opening downstairs put a stop to their conversation. They then heard a voice.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

Gwen got up off of the ledge she was on. "That's not—"

Peter sat up. "Aunt May? She isn't supposed to be home until six…"

Just then Peter realized who it probably was.

Wonderful.

That was Sharon Carter's first thought when she entered the Parker household. Peter was nowhere in sight. Or anyone else, for that matter. Sure, the guy who picked them up was watching the front door, but they didn't have anyone watching the back of the house. So if he had decided to skip out on them, they wouldn't even know it.

Carter was about to have her and Woo do a quick once-over to see if anyone was there when she heard footsteps on the stairs. When she saw Peter and Gwen reach the base of the staircase, she took off her sunglasses.

"Hey there kiddo. Let's have a chat."

Peter wasn't entirely happy about who was standing in his hallway. After all, if S.H.I.E.L.D. was so intent on getting MJ back, why didn't they pursue her immediately, instead of holding up him and Gwen? I guess that'd be too easy, Peter thought, leading Carter, Woo, and the agent who had picked them up to the kitchen.

Gwen followed alongside Peter.

"Gwen, you don't have to be here, y'know," Peter said, as they headed towards the table.

"You kidding? This is the most fun I'll have today. It's not like I have to go anywhere. Plus I'm a witness, aren't I?"

Peter sighed. Even though he was telling her she didn't need to be around for this, Peter was glad Gwen chose to stick around. He then turned to Woo and Carter. "If you're here, you may as well take a seat," Peter said, gesturing to the table and chairs.

"Thank you," Carter replied, sitting down, with Woo seated next to her. "So we'll make this quick. We need to know what you discussed with Mary-Jane at…"

Carter looked over at Woo, who was flipping through a notepad.

"Look," Peter said, interrupting. "Why are you here? If you're trying to find her, why didn't you just go to where we you told you she was going?"

Carter looked over at Peter. Woo stopped flipping through his notepad.

"Excuse me?"

"We told you where she was going," Gwen interjected, pointing towards the agent who was standing near the counter. "Or at least we told him. Didn't he pass it onto you?"

Carter, Woo, Peter, and Gwen all looked over at the agent standing near the counter. He still had his sunglasses on, acting as sentry. Carter had never worked with him before, but suspected he was new.

"What's your name, agent?"

"Pierson, ma'am."

"And why didn't you tell me or Agent Woo what they told you when you first intercepted them, Agent Pierson?"

"Strictly speaking, but I recall the orders at the time were to keep an eye on the Watson household and report if there were any persons who came near the property bearing the physical description of the suspect. Once I had radioed in, I was told to pursue, stopping after she had made contact with Mr. Parker and Ms. Stacy. It seemed as though any information they had should be passed along to you directly."

"So you thought it was out of protocol to pass along pertinent information?"

"It seemed to exceed the parameters of my mission, ma'am."

Carter blinked in disbelief before turning back around and covering her face with her hands. "Do me a favor, Agent Pierson, and wait outside."

"Yes ma'am."

Carter massaged her eyes as she heard Agent Pierson's footsteps recede down the hallway. After shaking her head, she snapped back to it.

"So you ran across her, right?"

"Yes."

"And where was she headed?"

"We told you," Gwen said, getting irritated with the way this conversation was going.

"I realize that," Carter shot back. "Although as you can tell, we're having some communication…issues which I have to sort out. So bear with me while I ask the questions. Where was she going?"

"To a friend's house," Peter replied. "Well, not really a friend—"

"Save it," Carter said. "Do you have a name or address?"

"Beats me," Gwen said. "Though I think she had some piercings."

"Got that?" Carter asked, looking towards Woo.

Woo nodded.

"I think it was Jessica something? Jonas, or—"

"Jones?" Gwen asked.

"That was it," Peter said, nodding.

"And do you know what she was doing out here in Queens? What she was looking for?" Woo asked, scribbling down notations furiously.

"She was looking for notes. Related to the…suit that's attached to her," Peter said. It's similar to the one that was on Gwen and me."

Carter sat there thinking while Woo was asking for more detail on the notes. They now had a location and a motive assigned to Watson. Now they needed to find the actual house. She turned to Woo.

"Let's see if we can get someone over at HQ to do a rundown of every Jessica Jones who lives in the area. Limit it to people who go to their high school."

"Got it," Woo said, getting up. He flipped open his cell phone and began dialing, heading towards the door.

"Thanks, Peter," Carter said, standing up, nodding towards Gwen. "You too." "If anything else happens, give me a call," she said, taking out a card and passing it to Peter.

Peter took the card, but still seemed doubtful. "You know, if you really wanted my help—"

"Save it," Carter replied, putting on her sunglasses. "We'll handle this one."

"But she's my—"

"Girlfriend? Yeah, we realize that. Which is why you can't be a part of this operation. We don't need any baggage. Plus you're still only in high school. Wait here, and give us a call if you hear or see anything, okay?"

Peter and Gwen just glared at Carter.

Carter just turned and walked out towards the front door, the same way she came in, intent on avoiding another prolonged argument.

Forest Hills Gardens, Queens, New York – After seeing the text message from the cell phone, MJ had recovered from her bout of self-doubt, and was moving at full-speed now. She was back at the desk again, and was trying to coax Jessica out.

"Jessica, I really need you to come out from under there."

No response. MJ could tell that whatever fight Jessica seemed to have in her had already faded. C'mon, we need to go, MJ thought, looking at her wristwatch.

Jessica was still under the desk, clutching her wound and breathing raggedly, with her eyes closed. She didn't look any better, and MJ was wondering if she'd be able to get Jessica out of the house in her current condition.

"Jessica. It's safe out here now. But it won't be safe in twenty minutes. We need to go so I can help you."

Jessica opened her eyes. Her breathing began to accelerate.

"What—what are you going to do to me?"

"I'm going…" MJ paused, mulling over her word choices. "I want to help you Jessica. I need to look at your shoulder."

"But—but—"

Talk her through what you are going to do.

MJ thought it over, trying to parse the creature's instructions.

What am I going to do?

Before the creature could respond, Jessica interrupted. "You—you're not going to…to turn into…a…a monster again, are you?"

MJ watched as Jessica shrank back, trying to merge with the wall. It wasn't much, but at least she had an opening to talk to her now.

MJ attempted a smile. It had been a while, but she hoped it looked convincing. "No, Jessica, I won't be turning into a monster."

"Do you—I mean, I saw you, with the claw…"

"That…was only because he was attacking me. It was…an instinct. It won't happen with you."

"Are you…sure?"

"Yes," she said, all the while fully aware that she had no idea what kind of stimulus activated the symbiote. "I promise I won't hurt you. Plus I'll take care of your arm. Trust me. I'm still MJ. The same one who works with you at Midtown's television station."

"It's…"

MJ waited. She was hoping it was working, bringing up familiar things they both had in common.

Finally, after another steadying breath, Jessica managed to finish her sentence. "…a newscast."

"Huh?"

"It's not a television station. We don't broadcast it out of the school. It's just a newscast."

MJ grinned. She had her.

After extending her hand out to help Jessica up, MJ moved Jessica over to the kitchen table, getting her wounded shoulder to face the window so she would have plenty of light. She wasn't looking forward to this, but MJ kept trying to reassure herself that it would be fine. I've already seen one bullet wound before. This is nothing different. I mean, Peter's gotten injured all the time. I'm practically a nurse now.

Try as she might, there was still one glaring discrepancy between Jessica's wound and Peter's. Something she couldn't wave away. Of course, Peter has super powers, she thought, all too aware that Peter's abilities might have done more to help him recover than any of MJ's amateur nursing treatments. Jessica had none of those advantages, which made her uneasy.

Here we go, she thought, as she gently moved Jessica's hand away from her left shoulder. Jessica's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, wincing and breathing through clenched teeth.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" MJ asked worriedly.

Jessica shook her head. "It just hurts. Are you…sure you know how to do this?"

MJ paused. "Yeah. I think you'll be a lot better afterwards."

Now that Jessica's shoulder was fully revealed, MJ took a closer look. It seemed as though the blood had clotted, but she couldn't be certain. The sleeve of her shirt was making it hard to find the exact location of the injury. Still, MJ could make one valid assessment.

She needs to go to a hospital.

She cannot. It's too dangerous for her to be admitted.

After hearing the creature's response, MJ couldn't handle her restraint any longer. What am I supposed to do? I've seen gunshot wounds before, but I've never treated them! The last time I helped, I only put a bandage over the top of it. I'm not trained in this, MJ thought, realizing that, even though she managed to convince Jessica that she could handle it, she was not prepared at all for actually treating the wound. Her prior reassurances were more useful for confronting the injury than dressing it.

Suddenly, as MJ straightened up to see how much time they had left, something clicked in MJ's head. Much like before, in her fight against the assassin, she knew exactly what to do. Turning away from Jessica, she began opening drawers, searching for something.

"Do you have any scissors, Jessica?"

"Yeah. In the drawer on the island."

MJ turned to face the kitchen island, looking for the handles. There were two. She pulled open one after the other, the second drawer being the one she had grasped during her fight. It had slid off the sliders, becoming jammed. MJ had to wrest it open with both hands.

There you are. The scissors were in the drawer, as bright and lustrous as the rest of the kitchen. She grabbed the scissors out of the drawer and then looked for a towel. She saw the one wrapped around the man's leg, and decided against it, finding another one hanging off the edge of the sink. MJ grabbed it and then crossed the kitchen, stepping over the body to get to the cupboard where they kept the wine and spirits. It was next to the entrance to the kitchen from the front door, with glass doors displaying the contents. MJ quickly yanked open the cupboard and scanned the bottles, picking out some vodka.

While MJ was running around gathering all of tools necessary, Jessica was watching out of the corner of her eye. She was still incredibly shaken by the events that had taken place, although the more analytical part of her mind was beginning to recover. She may not have known MJ too long, but she did have a feeling that whatever happened to MJ during her absence wasn't a normal sickness, claw-like appendages aside.

What happened to you?

MJ had found almost everything she knew was needed for sanitizing the wound, but she couldn't find any forceps for extracting the bullet. She looked at her watch again. Now she had only ten minutes left. Ugh. I don't have time for this, she thought, turning back to Jessica. She would just have to clean the wound and get her out of here. Therefore, MJ came back to Jessica's side with the scissors, and began to gently cut away the sleeve.

"Hold still."

It wasn't easy, but MJ managed to eventually cut the whole sleeve away, taking care to avoid prodding the wound. While the bloody sleeve was no longer obscuring the injury, there was still plenty of blood on the arm itself. Unscrewing the bottle of vodka, MJ grabbed a napkin from the table's napkin holder and soaked it slightly. She then applied it to Jessica's shoulder.

"Augh!"

"Sorry."

"Jesus! What is that?"

MJ looked at the bottle. "Skyy Vodka, although it's disinfectant for now."

Jessica took another breath, wincing. "Well could you hurry it up? Hurts pretty bad."

MJ quickly wiped down Jessica's arm with the vodka-soaked napkin. It was a lot cleaner now, and was looking far better. She could now pinpoint where the injury was, although that wasn't making things any better. It was in the front of her left shoulder, entering at a point that seemed to connect her arm to her shoulder. MJ couldn't be sure, but she had a bad feeling that the bullet hadn't entered cleanly. There might be bone fragments. She looked at her watch.

Eight minutes…

MJ grabbed the towel she had taken from the sink. She was about to splash some vodka on it, but realized that direct application of alcohol to the wound might do more harm than good. Therefore, she left it dry. Jessica wasn't looking at MJ, not wanting to see how bad it was.

"Jessica."

She turned her head to face MJ, careful not to look down.

"Is it bad?"

"Not really," MJ said, trying to make sure she didn't come across as disingenuous. "I need you to hold this towel right here, okay? Tightly. I have to go check something."

"Where are you going?" Jessica asked, concern tinting her voice. You're not—"

"I'll be right back," MJ said reassuringly. "I promise."

Jessica took the towel and winced again, but held it close. MJ walked briskly to the front door, peering through the front window. She didn't see anybody around. Okay. No one's around, but for all I know they're hiding behind those hedges. Please don't be outside.

MJ cautiously opened the door, waiting to see if she heard any car doors or voices. They couldn't possibly know that anything had gone wrong, so hopefully they wouldn't be waiting to ambush them. MJ clicked the key fob attached to the car keys she had lifted from the assassin. She heard the faint beep-beep of the car, locking all of its doors. MJ recalled the vehicle they had passed earlier, and guessed that it had belonged to the intruder. She quickly closed the door and opened a hall closet. Spotting a jacket that seemed to be Jessica's size, she grabbed it and hurried back into the kitchen. They now only had five minutes.

MJ quickly came back in and draped the jacket over Jessica's shoulders.

"Time to go."

Jessica looked up at her. "What? Why? I mean, didn't you—?"

"They're sending over some more people. We don't want to be here when they arrive."

"But my parents. What are they—"

"Don't worry about it. They'll be fine. They only want you. And the notes. You'll be safer coming with me instead of staying here."

Jessica looked around at the kitchen. It had been so neat and orderly. So familiar. But now of course it looked like a war zone, with blinds on the patio doors smashed and with Jessica's blood on the floor, not to mention the body near the kitchen island. MJ was right. She needed to leave. MJ quickly grabbed the gun, as Jessica got up. It was still lying near the trashcan, although MJ had now placed it in one of the pockets lining the interior of her jacket. She then quickly grabbed all of the notes that were scattered all over the floor. They had boot prints and a few brownish-red stains on them, but were still legible and worth keeping. MJ turned to Jessica, who was now standing near her former hiding spot.

"Did you make any copies of these?" MJ asked, holding the notes aloft.

"I—I was planning on it."

"But did you?"

"No. I didn't get a chance."

"Good," MJ said, doing a final sweep of the kitchen, making sure she didn't miss any notes. After she was satisfied, MJ ushered Jessica out through the patio doors, hoping to stay more inconspicuous than leaving through the front door.

No sooner had MJ closed the patio door and cut across to a neighbor's yard before she had heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up to a driveway. MJ felt her muscles tense, ready to run, but forced herself to continue walking at a normal pace. She looked over at Jessica, who looked behind her worriedly.

"Don't worry Jessica. You're doing fine."

"But what if someone sees—"

"They won't. Just don't look back, and keep walking forward. Don't run."

They were now on the sidewalk, rounding the corner from Dartmouth Street to Burns. MJ clicked the key fob once again and heard the car's horn. It was the same gray Honda Civic Sedan they had passed by earlier, with the license plate reading NSV 8321. The vehicle was parked in a neighbor's house, a few rows down the street from Jessica's house. She quickly unlocked the doors and gingerly helped Jessica into the passenger seat, trying to avoid aggravating the wound. MJ felt the weight of the gun in the breast pocket of her jacket as she glanced over at Jessica's house, her heart pounding.

"Is anyone coming?" Jessica asked.

MJ only had one response. "Not yet."

A silver-gray minivan was parked behind Jessica's car. No one was outside, and the front door was shut. If MJ were a neighbor, nothing would look amiss.

MJ got into the driver's seat of the car, and pulled the car out of the driveway, driving away as quickly as possible.

Writer's Note: I'm back in the saddle! It's been some time since I've written anything for this, so apologies if it's not up to snuff with the other chapters. Rest assured, however, that I will keep plugging away for the foreseeable future! There is a definite endgame, which is getting closer and closer. In the meantime, enjoy the trip while you can (provided any of the early readers still visit this site)! For any newcomers, welcome! There's a lot to read, and I hope you enjoy it. As always, a very special shout-out to KoishNoish, Nerdman3000, and OMAC001! I greatly appreciated your comments, and hope you'll drop by again real soon! Thanks for dropping by, and any readers are welcome to review! Until next time!