- Chapter Sixty-Two -

In This Bed, I Drown In The Sea And Hang From The Ledge

Cutlass nicking the flesh, three fat rubies spilled down the polished blade.

And then she woke up. Kinda.

Surrounded by a crushing darkness deeper than the purest ebony, her first thought was of Jonah, that she had been swallowed whole by some giant maritime monster that was now fodder for cheap sci-fi. Enveloped by a shimmering cobalt haze that masked what was in truth a smothering navy grave, inside the cavernous belly of the beast everything was indigo and midnight. Mold and despair, what wasn't rooted down by hours of agonizing digestion was carpeted in a silvery, slimy saliva. Death at a thousand depths, this was where hope went to die.

Immediately returned to those lost hours in pitch-black hell, the inflamed hole left in her shoulder seared beneath a screw that was no longer there yet never gone. Poked, prodded, and belittled, at least a dozen places on her body burned and ached, each simultaneously reliving the trauma. Steel kiss worse than drowning in toothy bile, the knife bit deep into the bone of her hand, carving Ashley's favorite name for her.

Help me! Voice stolen by a sea witch without a legally binding contract, her vocal chords froze beneath sandpapered pipes. Flesh broiling in the steam of an underwater pocket, the blankets were mildew thick as imitation velvet, a chain twisted serpentine around the prisoner.

Gasp preemptively choked off in her core, a wealth of pearls welled up in the corner of her eyes, a single drop rolling silently down her cheek in the gloom. Spilling noiselessly on the feather pillow, another threatened to follow suit. Desperate to safeguard her diamonds in the vault, Daniella shut her eyes before really opening them.

Part of her dream coming back in the color of a feeling, all the young woman could remember was a cloud; red and angry, it devoured everything in its path. Things had started out as they did, everyone on the island present on a sunken pirate ship. Ribs poking out and heart beating for all to see, Mr. Drake acted as the captain; more judgmental than usual, Cassie was the pet parakeet on his shoulder; coy and stunningly beautiful, Elena was a mermaid on the mast, offering riddles and rhymes. Rafael had been there too, but his role was a stolen mystery now.

Body covered in sweat, the heiress couldn't remember much more than that. Although she did recall Elena braiding her to a plank with a rope made of seaweed, sad that the girl hadn't been able to find her place among the crew. At another point, the heiress had been held at sword-point, but that was after the strange storm had appeared. After the islanders had offered her as a virgin sacrifice. She'd screamed that she wasn't a virgin anymore, that giving her to the celestial would only anger it further, but none of them were listening.

Except for Sam. Invisible to the rest, it was never made clear if he had been Puck or an angel of sorts, but that had been the second time he had appeared before the dreamer. Words spoken so that only she might hear, he had a message for the prisoner, yet that was the point where the details failed. There was a slim chance they had been hopeful, however it was more than likely they they had only spelled her doom.

Hmm, it seemed she retained more of the dream than she originally thought...

Please, not again. I can't...! Terrified of finding herself subject to more torture, whether it be at the hand of a heavenly body or two hipster psychos, the heiress reminded herself that she didn't need to be afraid. She was safe, because she wasn't alone. She had him.

Counting on a certain comforting presence to be there by her side, the heiress didn't actually see Sam when she woke.

Blinking slowly to acclimate to the light, or rather lack thereof, Daniella usually would stretch out, wiggling her fingers and toes. On cold days she might preface that by pulling the blankets tighter around her shoulders and retreating back to a soft space between waking and sleeping, drifting to a light doze.

When she'd had a nightmare, there was no better protection afforded than the security of a blanket. It worked when she was four and scared of the noises in the cold stone walls, and again some years later when the boogeyman came hunting for his prey. To a lesser degree, the covers had offered a different kind of shelter after her Daddy had died. Nothing could ever match the safety she felt in her father's arms, but her blankets had been infinitely better than Mama's anemic attempts.

Retreat seemed like the right answer now, but it was too hot to stayed covered. In fact, that might have been the reason why she had woken up in the first place. That, or the dream itself.

"Sam?" Voice very very quiet once she found it, the young woman took a deep breath and counted to three.

When there was no answer, her nerves flared like a spark trapped beneath a wet blanket. Absence slightly concerting, she supposed that he might have been in the bathroom. In the dark? Not so much as a hint of lighting coming through the cracks, the door was left wide open. A sense of heavy unease trickled over the edges of her mind at the alternative, however there wasn't enough room in her brain. I can't go back to that place again... I won't!

Cracked on every conceivable level, Daniella called out once more into the night, begging for an answer and not minding how loud. "Sam!"

"Hm? I'm up, I'm up." On the wrong side of the bed, Sam sprang up from within the mattress itself, clothes creased from sitting in one position too long and hair tousled from a deep nap. Clearly weary from standing such diligent guard, he ran his fingers alongside his graying locks. "Oh, you finally-" yawning loudly, he stretched, rolling his muscles shoulder-to-shoulder, "-woke up."

Relief washing over her, she sank back into the bed. He was still there. Still here with me.

"Hey, are you ok?" At first it appeared that he was simply checking in on her current status condition, which was understandable, all things considered. Then the old man took it a step further than expected and doubled down, sitting up straight to get a better read on his patient. Whatever all he had seen, Sam's first act was to wipe away the tears glittering in her eyes. "Hey, it was just a bad dream."

Overwhelmed by phobia and release, a trembling hand darted out from its hiding place in the cotton cocoon. Too overcome to hesitate, it rested on top of the man's, clutching tighter than tight. If he'd only known what had been going on in her head just a moment ago...

Too manly to sob further, she poured her heart out into that one gesture. Would even half of it reach him? Frankly Daniella neither knew nor cared - she simply needed to let it all out before she imploded. I'm so sorry that this is how you have to see me, weak and broken. I wish that I could be stronger, like my Daddy...

Daddy...?

Something about that line of thought troubled her, although she didn't have much room to dwell on it; forehead splitting open, there was a sharp, pinching pain smacking her frontal lobe in full.

Dream just the blur of a familiar (but none too friendly) face in a passing window, now that Sleeping Beauty was awake, it was probably time to get up and meet the day. Only... with the curtains drawn against the howling wind and the lights off, she couldn't be sure it was even day anymore.

Where had the time gone? The last thing she remembered... shutting her lids not against the natural blue light but the crushing pressure on her pounding skull, the heiress came up blank. It hurt too much to think. Her skin felt withered, dry lips cracked open, and marrow replaced with iron; it was a feeling she had known before.

Head weighing a good ton now that she paused long enough to notice, the room spun even as she laid there, tilting back and forth on a swaying deck lost at sea. Woozy from an empty stomach, the dizzy spell was more than low blood sugar - it was an old acquaintance. More enemy than friend truth be told.

Situation made clear to the young woman, between the lack of her anchor and roasting alive, the answer was obvious. Rum-soaked and feeling it, the heiress just wasn't thrilled, knowing from first-hand experience that it wouldn't feel particularly grand on her system. Still, that was probably a better thing to focus her mind on, rather than that unshakable sensation that Angel and Ashley were hiding in the wings, biding their time. Acting on instinct, Dells kicked the covers off. Legs obeying the command like a rubber band in jelly, they may as well have been made of damp sticks coated in crude iron for how weak she felt.

Nausea restricting all movement beyond that one simple action, in came her knight in shining armor to finish the job for her royal majesty. Much cooler without the brunt of the blankets bundled over her body, she thought that the selection in pajamas was a bit much for the weather. Also, when...? Without missing a beat, the historian one upped himself, reaching over to the nightstand to hand her a glass of lukewarm tap water.

Greedy in her suckling, the heiress downed the liquid almost as quickly as he had produced it, sloshing some down her lips and over her clothes. Messy, messy. "Whoa, slow down there baby girl."

Baby girl... Another trigger went off in her head, pointing at a target that remained hidden in the fog. Just what was she missing?

Aware of how blank the slate was, Sam knew that he had hit the end of the road, that it was past time to come clean with the girl. Her mother might have backed off for the time being, but she certainly wasn't going to keep quiet about any of this, and Dells would probably take it better if it came from him. Knowing that didn't make it any easier to face the music.

Empty, the glass was returned to the sender with the intention that it be filled again. With no insurance that she would heed his advice and relax, the thief set the precedent, getting to his feet in no great rush. Obviously taking his sweet time to fulfill the order, he flashed a crooked grin as he sauntered into the restroom, warning her with a single word before flipping the switch. Sure, he'd made the trip to the bathroom in the dark before this, but now that the power was back he was planning on making the most of it.

Scavenging through the cabinets for a nondescript bottle of acetylsalicylic acid while the facet was running, he gathered a new set of bandages while he was at it. Between the chill of the rain and how long the old ones had been left on, it was probably overdue. Like so many other things.

Fair maiden waiting yonder, he brought the supplies after delivering the young miss her medicine, just in case she decided to down an entire glass of water in one huge gulp again. Honestly he wasn't sure how many times he would refill her goblet (admittedly, just like if it had been Nathan, it would have been as many times as necessary, but she didn't need to know that) however it was her bladder that would pay the price first.

"Here," tossing her the pills and setting the wrappings down where the water had been, he moved around to the other side of the bed for the crackers he had had brought up once the phone decided to work again. Ideally he could talk her into something more substantial, such as toast or possibly even eggs.

Nah, not eggs... There wasn't enough cleavage to catch what her mouth inevitably would miss.

[No Time Like The Present, No One like...]

Midnight the cut-off time for fairy tales to lose their magic cheats, the duo were definitely sitting later into the night than the expiration of Cinderella's pumpkin. Hydrated, fed a nibble large enough for a mouse, and served a mild dosage of over-the-counter aspirin, the heiress was at last well enough to hear what it was he had to tell her. Rather, she was as close as luxury would allow.

Laid on the bed with their collective gaze on the ceiling and backs more or less to the headboard, he was resting his chin on her head; once they began, it would be more convenient to stare at the TV screen as opposed to the young woman. Eyes half on the menu, Dells was more interested in curling against Sam, one arm out to stroke the edge of his wife beater. Her knee kept bumping into his, but he chalked that up to her just trying to get comfortable.

Good luck, her jitters seemed keen to stay.

"So is that all of them?" Inquiring earnestly about his ink, her fingertip traced the fading outline of one of his first tattoos, catching at the northernmost point of the star. With how many times he had seen her body, it was almost unfair that she had never seen all of his.

Could she handle seeing the nasty bruise she had left on his torso? More green-ish brown than purple now, the mark on his cheek was a none-issue. After everything, the rampage seemed like a small enough thing, and they barely hurt any more. But no, if anything he was sparing her from that pesky sense of responsibility he'd heard tale of.

Cheeky, he dropped a variant of an old classic, "If you're good, I'll show you my other tattoos sometime."

Dazzled and dazzling, her eyes sparkled at the promise. "Maybe you can take me to get one sometime." Had she felt even a little bit better, this might have been the perfect moment to make a pass. Probably worth it in the end, her attempt to play the demure princess would have been awkward from her limited range of motion and held back by inexperience. Instead she settled on picking some old movie, shifting yet again for her stomach's sake. "Gotta cover up if I ever want to go to the beach like a normal person again."

Peeking down at the patient, he tried to guess what she might get to cover the nasty scar on her shoulder. Something girly, yet also dignified... Perhaps some kind of floral motif in the form of a plant? A cherry bloom sprig, perchance? No, that was far too cliche - if Dells went that route, he gave her enough credit to be more original than that and at least change it to something like a plum or orange blossom. Whatever it was, he had no doubt that she would agonize over the design for far too long. Or not nearly long enough, if her taste in men said anything.

Black and white title screen displaying old-fashioned credits, the music swelled as the color seeped into the picture. Stealing the remote from her lap, Sam turned the volume all the way down. "Screw normal."

"Right?" Chuckling her agreement, she looked as if she'd wanted to say more, but then had suddenly thought better of it.

Assuming was always a dangerous game, but if the man had had to guess, he would have said that depending on how the wounds healed, she might have considered bearing them for the world. Proof that she was brave, and a survivor. The hangup was probably one-third her mother and two-thirds having to face what had happened on a daily basis. With just a dash of luck, the marks might have been small and pale and only noticeable if you knew to look, but realistically that just wasn't Angel and Ashley's style. They wanted their work to be seen, to be known and remembered.

"Why the hell not?" Getting back to the request, if they were even still speaking at the end of this thing, it could be fun. Besides even if he didn't get anything new himself, he had some work that could use touching up.

Really smiling - there was no hiding it when the light reached the powdery blue in her eyes - the heiress snuggled closer to her protector and ally. Better savior it old man, snide even in his own mind, Sam knew that this moment wouldn't last much longer. Correction: couldn't.

"Dells," name sticking like glue on the roof of his mouth, that peanut butter taste lingered all the way back to the stem of his tongue, "how - uh, how much do you remember about today?"

Head tilting back so that she could get a better look at the man, while the change in trajectory had clearly caught her off-guard, she was immediately suspicious. And why shouldn't she be? Hedging around the fact that it obviously wasn't a whole hell of a lot, there was an obvious lack of desire to answer. Eyes conveying much and more in the way of doubt, he could scarcely blame her when she'd been under the impression that things were going so well.

"Why?" It was a simple enough question, on the surface.

As opposed to answering outright, the tatted traveler tried to warn her with a single look. Neither charming nor cocky nor any other thing that her mother might accuse him of, Sam snatched her wrist. Holding her in place to cease the fawning, his grip was steady, measured enough so as to not harm or scare the little one off. Words a lost currency, he didn't force her away, but he was no longer encouraging her either.

Like he used to tell his little brother, best to just rip the band-aid off.

"Your mother stopped by." Of the several places to start, Sam figured that he may as well just get the most recent drama out of the way. Bai was a disaster in her own right, but Rafe... That might take the rest of the night.

"Mama?" Identifier automatic, Daniella wanted to take it back the second it poured out of her mouth, however that would have expended too much energy on the woman. Besides, she really didn't have a terribly great name to replace their legal blood relation. "And you got rid of her?" The heiress wasn't horribly sad to hear that; in fact, she was impressed. Her mother was not the easiest person to shake.

Not really getting much out of that, the young woman realized that there must have been a damn good reason. Mulling over what she already knew, Dells pieced together that she had suffered a massive hangover for a reason. But what? Was it her mother that had driven her to get blackout drunk? No, that didn't seem right... The traitor had burned her last bridge, but at present that wasn't the kind of thing that would lead head-first into the bottle. Something wasn't quite adding up.

Virtually the closest thing she had to a paragon of truth, to her knowledge he hadn't lied to her. Not yet. It would be a poor time to start now. "Sam, that's not all that happened, is it?"

Facing his consequence like a man, the ex-con gave his head a firm shake, words rooted deep in certainty before coming out into the world. "No."

Pulling herself up into a sitting position, she discovered that this wasn't going to work if they couldn't see eye-to-eye. "Care to enlighten me?"

Jokes were the final defense he had left, and damn if he was going to go down without some kind of a fight. It just wasn't in him, not even for Nathan. Not even for his own sake (honestly, he couldn't even begin to count how many times his enemies should have just killed him). "Sure you don't want to cover the mother stuff some more?"

"Should we?" Being lost and confused was nothing new for the heiress, yet this felt like a rare opportunity for her to change that. So far as her mother went and what the visit had entailed, it was easy enough to imagine that the woman had only come sniffing around to mark what she thought was her territory. Based on her own feelings, Daniella figured that she had refused... assuming that she had been in a position to do so at that particular point.

In all seriousness, yeah. "Probably." He shrugged it off as some small thing, but there was potential for this to bite them both in the ass if Bai had anything to say about it. "She isn't very happy with us at the moment."

"Us?" The word caught in her throat, sounding more like a bad line reading from a shitty actor than something an actual human might say. Troubled, the heiress felt like she had slipped on a sheer cliff face, fingers unable to find purchase.

To Sam's ears, those two letters were strained, like the croak of a boy hitting puberty. Extracting a single rope, he grasped the only visible lifeline in his hand, "I may have told her... certain things." Gone up in smoke, the braided cord slipped away and fell into the ravine below.

"What things?" Thin, there was a new type of danger laced in her tone. Fair enough, given how they were stranded in place.

Silence: searching, searing, penetrating silence met her question. Scrabbling through the dark for a hold that didn't exist, he could only come up with one answer. One simple answer. The kind of things that mothers never want to hear about their children. If she had been anyone else, Sam might have put that sentiment into crude, uncaring words. But this wasn't just anyone else. This was his little brother, the orphan he had been trusted with, the little girl that he had gone to bat for, the young lady that he had made a woman. This was Dells.

This was Dells.

Daniella (pretty sure he never caught a middle name) Adler. Sleeping Beauty herself, the heiress, the daughter of a psycho and a shark, his baby girl.

This was the orphan he had been entrusted, the little girl he'd elected to defend. So on some level, it was fitting that when it came to her, Sam was as guilty as they they came.

Taking the Lord's name in vain (a lot), a little rub and tug, the use of one single contraceptive, and enough fornication to fill a smutty erotica. Simony and sacrilege intermarried; as did lying, cheating, and adultery. He'd felt hatred and envy, had incited scandal, and stooped to committing perjury. Much like sacrilege and simony, heresy and blasphemy, there'd also been encouragement of another's vices and ample endangerment of human life or safety. Some of these sins had been minor enough, if not indirect. Others, not so much...

This was the young lady I made a woman.

Flings were nothing new to the ex-con. Hell, one could even make the argument that they were his second drug of choice. Except, there was something about Dells that wasn't just a one-night stand. Not quite. All the ingredients were there, and it would be a wise move for everyone's greater benefit, yet... He didn't hate the idea of her sticking around a bit longer. She was good with his family, and Christ knows she was better behaved than Chloe. Maybe if he asked really nicely, they would let him keep her.

Dizzy spells kept at bay due to the crackers Sam had had the foresight to have ready and waiting, she still felt like the world was spinning out of her control. His refusal to answer her question only made it worse, like there was a pit under her feet that had been dug too close to the surface to hold her up much longer. "What did you tell her, exactly?"

Pre-falling sensation heightened by almost twenty years of built-up resentment, for as much as she claimed to be done with her mother, this was what made it feel real. If whatever Sam had told Mama was the catalyst that made her own feelings heard, she wanted to know how accurate the message was.

"Sam?" It wasn't as if he had to lie to her.

He knew that, right?

Palm landing just north of the knee, culpable eyes shown bright in the electric glow, dancing on the rim of contrition. A swinging rope bridge that had long ago fallen out of code - if indeed it had even been made to the standard - the arm connecting the pair was a faint ray of hope. Now was not the time for action, but it was plain to see that the same desire bound one to the other. That one single look said they might survive this mountain yet. Provided of course that there were no causalities.

Simple answer the first off the silver tongue, the historian knew how precarious these things could be. "Basically that you're an adult now. That she needs to trust in you." As they both knew Bai, they knew that that wasn't a good enough reason for her to just leave like nothing. No, if the businesswoman had taken the time to see to her child, she wouldn't go without speaking to Daniella. Taking it a step further than flimsy half-truths, the thief folded, laying his cards on the table. "And I may have mentioned some of your history. With your teacher... and me."

Blank space in the brain buzzing, the heiress cocked her head, "How did you know...?

"Common sense." Face a mixture of appalled and confused, he was kind enough to explain. After all, Dells had a thing for learning a lesson, didn't she? "No one is that good without practice."

Okay, she would admit that that answer might have held up in a court of law surrounded by their peers, but that didn't explain to her how he knew about her shadier extracurricular activities. If they had managed to find a way around her mother's anal security team, then there was zero chance anyone else knew. Right? If there were indeed little people living in her head, this was absolutely the time to press that red panic button.

"Jay, unless I'm mistaken?" Gruffer than he'd intended, Sam didn't leave much room for her to finish her train of thought. "Our Orange Tiger friends are keeping tabs on you. On all of us." Well, Logan and Chloe at least, and so far it seemed harmless enough. "He's cute. I can see why you would want be the teacher's pet."

Part of her brain just broke, hearing Sam say the word 'cute'. However, for the parts that were still functioning, the teen jumped right into the defense Jay had taught her to use in such a situation, "I don't know what you think happened, but I'm just a teacher's assistant." And she was hardly the only one.

Really? After all that they had gone through together, she was gonna try and play that game? Fine, if the snobby schoolgirl wanted it that way, he had no problem blowing the foundation sky high. "So much for honesty."

"I'm honest-"

Clutching for any rock that wasn't tumbling down into her face, he watched her squirm from above, nigh on the verge of being impassive about her fate. On the surface. "Not if you're sticking to that story."

"Excuse me?!" Now there was the princess, so quick to remind him who it was that had dropped the rope in the first place and left them stranded. "I'm not on trial here!"

Oh? Well wasn't he just so relieved to hear that when they were dangling over a precipice. "Look, I don't care that you learned the clarinet at school. For the uninitiated, such as yourself, that means sucking dick." Sam had enough partners for the both of them, and bitter snark. "I'm just disappointed that you're trying to lie to me after I told your mother that you were an adult." That Daniella had the potential to be one of the good ones.

Finally it was her turn to answer him with an abundance of silence. Dells might never know what precisely had happened while she was out, he had defended her to her mother. Sam had stood up to the evil fairy queen, and he did it for me. He did so much for her, and she had repaid him in such an ill manner. He should be disappointed.

Saying it like that, the heiress couldn't deny that she had fucked up. Quite possibly badly at that. "You're right."

About to combat whatever classic adolescent excuse she attempted to cook up, the thief had the air let out of his sails, "Sorry, what was that?" If he were being adorable, the man would have taunted her with those words, egging her on to repeat them so that he could savoir the sweet taste of vindication. But no, it was her turn to blindside him apparently.

"You're right." At the risk of sounding sappy and leaning too hard into something that had yet to be established, the young woman touched him lightly upon the arm, adding a much-needed support beneath the wooden beams and frayed rope. "I owe you better than that. I'm sorry." Apology sincere, when the excuses came it was without thinking, without considering that it was Sam. "You're not just anybody. You've saved my ass more times than I can count, and... I trust you, Sam."

It might have been better if she had just said she loved him. He could handle that song and dance, things like feelings and empty allegiances of devotion, but trust...? Trust wasn't something so easily given, and in his experience it was too easy to break. "You shouldn't." He wasn't the guy that you trusted. He was the guy that broke your trust and made you swear to never do something so stupid ever again. "When I told Mommy Dearest about us... it wasn't just implied. I told her in no uncertain terms that I fucked you good." Nothing seemed to break a heart faster than hearing that things weren't what they seemed, so maybe it worked that way for trust too.

If she had read more romance, it would have been painfully obvious that this was the part where he lied to illustrate that he was no good for her. But that wasn't the kind of thing the young woman buried herself in, so she didn't know any better than to believe the in poison apple.

Unfortunately for this trope, while it hurt like hell to hear the words said in such a manner, Daniella hadn't let herself think for a single minute that they had anything deeper than a fling. Maybe she might have dared to hope for a just a moment that they could keep this thing going into the real world, however she wasn't greedy. She would take whatever she got, because she was (as the cliche went) just lucky that he'd noticed her in the first place.

Having said that, that didn't mean that the heiress was thrilled to learn that her mother knew. "That wasn't for you to say."

Committed to the narrative he had began, the adventurer wanted her to rue those three words. "I told her so you didn't have to. Correction: try and fail to." Once again, he threw her hands off. "Really Dells, you should be thanking me for this too."

"Oh, fuck you!" Right wrong button (or wrong right button, depending how you wanted to look at it) pushed, Dells would have slapped Sam if she had had the strength. Wraps still laying on the table for later, for just a minute it crossed her mind to use them as a weapon. Lucky for the thief that the only thing she could do was feebly shove at him. Absolutely pathetic. "You did not just tell me to be grateful to you for being a selfish prick!"

Language not really an issue for him - clearly - it was her calling him a selfish prick that brought out the usual faux-outcry, "Hey! I'll have you know that I don't answer to that name." Sam was one of three selfish dickheads, but that was an old joke between work colleagues. Half-smiling at the memory, the man took a page out of Nate the Great's book and offered the vanished lifeline, "After all we've been through, it hurts that you-" Sam was going to say 'don't trust me', but he improvised like a pro, "-think so little of me. If I didn't care, would I tell you the reason why you tried to drink yourself into oblivion?"

Author's Notes:

Woot, party! Seriously, happy two-year anniversary!

It's been a hell of a long time getting to this point, from life and plans dying to natural evolution to what we have now. Hopefully there was a few collective titters at the least lol. For the anniversary (which I was admittedly concerned I'd have this chapter out too late or too soon), I think it would be fitting to give a little insight into things, or some other 'yay, you made it this far' gift, but alas, as I write this ending blurb at like three in the morning, I can't think of a single thing to give you, awesome reader.

The factoid that the prologue was called "Winds Of Her Whim" because the character names all began with the letter of a direction? And I lost the second thing... Rad. Oh! I remembered! That in some chapters if you read the first letter of each word it spells something out? Half the time that happens by accident, but by like the second or third letter I'm like, 'hey, that could/does spell a word'. Once or twice that's been intentional *cough* CLASSIC PAM *cough* (okay, so technically it's Pam classic, but I just saw Dirty Grandpa a month or so ago, and it's totally sticking with me). Anyways, yeah, nice little random facts. Fact? Dunno. What I do know is that THERE ARE PLANS FOR THIS TO GO FORWARD!

By that, I mean a potential sequel. If I make it remains to be seen, especially as I'd love to finish this first. Although, instead of calling it a sequel I could call it a spin-off? In addition to that little Halloween one I started... Which, another fun fact: that had two versions, a smutty one, and a "T-ish with a plot" one. You know, if I ever look at anything other than the three or so main stories I'm working on. Point is, I have a lot of ideas for this world.

Also also, this is a question that will probably go unanswered for one reason or another (my bet being lack of response or me just being too impatient to wait), but as there is a very specific number coming up, I'm wondering how mad y'all would be with a smutty little chapter? Not sure if it'll remotely make sense with the current trajectory of the story, so I'm hesitant... Hmm, guess we'll all be surprised in the coming chapters lol

Again, HAPPY TWO-YEAR ANNIVERSARY! AND THANK YOU FOR READING THE STORY SO FAR!