Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty Questions

WEEK 16
SEPTEMBER 21ST, 2001

2030 EST
APARTMENT OF SARAH MACKENZIE
GEORGETOWN, VIRGINIA

One thing that remained unchanged about Mac's life after the events of September 11th was her baby's appetite (if it was up to Mac, she would barely be eating).

"Here's your Beltway Burger, per your request," Harm said, plopping the greasy paper bag onto Mac's lap. She was sitting cross legged on the sofa, case files spread out around her. She was thankful for the cravings, for once, because she could now distract herself from the fact that her country had completely turned upside down with the fact that she would absolutely die if she didn't get her hands on some Beltway Burger.

Mac beamed, opening up the bag with eagerness. "Thank you," she said sweetly, taking a huge bite out of the burger. Harm watched Mac tear into the greasy, beefy confection with relish and grimaced.

"I don't know how you could eat that stuff," Harm said as he took off his jacket. He gingerly picked up some of the files surrounding Mac and moved them to the side, sitting down beside her on her sofa.

"I don't know how you couldn't." Mac said through a mouthful.

Harm shook her head in disbelief as he watched Mac devour her burger. It was the third one she'd eaten that week. "It would serve you right if our kid's a vegetarian."

"In your dreams," Mac replied. "The baby's the one making me crave this."

"The baby?" Harm raised his eyebrows. "The baby's the reason?"

"Yep," Mac nodded, reaching into the bag for a fry.

"Mac," Harm said. She looked up at him innocently. "You've gotten Beltway Burger at least once a week since I've known you. This isn't the baby, it's you."

Mac rolled her eyes. She sat her burger down on a napkin on her lap. "Harm," she said. "I'm gonna get fat either way, I may as well have fun while doing it."

"You're not gonna get fat-"

"Yes I am!"

"Mac," Harm gave her a wry look. "I looked it up. The average woman gains thirty to forty pounds during pregnancy. That's not fat."

"Says you!" Mac shot back, "You could probably run an extra mile a day for a week and lose thirty pounds. Women retain more fat than men."

"You'll lose the bulk of it breastfeeding."

"If I can breastfeed," Mac corrected. "Some women can't."

Even now, when they weren't even working together anymore, they still found ways to disagree. Harm didn't mind; he liked to think of their casual bickering as their way of expressing their love.

"I have an idea," Harm said as he watched Mac finish eating. She'd eaten the entire thing in nine minutes-a new record by Harm's standards.

"What's that?" Mac peeked into the paper bag to see if she missed any stray frys.

"Well, Friday's usually our date night."

Mac nodded in agreement. "It is."

Usually, work schedules permitting, they tried to go out every Friday, but that hadn't happened for the past two weeks. The Friday before last they were with Little AJ and then everything changed, so they spent last Friday in. They decided to spend this Friday at home as well, just because.

"I was thinking, since we didn't want to go out, we could do something fun here," Harm said.

"Harm, if you want to have sex you don't need to beat around the bush anymore," Mac told him. "Plus I just ate a cheeseburger, I'm not exactly...in the mood right now."

"I wasn't talking about that!" Harm said indignantly.

"Then what were you talking about?" Mac asked.

"Let's see, I put it around here somewhere…" Harm scanned over the sea of files Mac had spread out over the coffee table. His eyes soon landed on the glossy corner of a magazine. "Here!"

He pulled out the magazine, and Mac frowned at her files being disrupted.

"You read magazines?" she asked, watching Harm flip the page he had dogeared with bemusement.

Harm smirked, shrugging. "I get bored sometimes. Here, look at it," he handed her the magazine.

Mac read the article title and snorted. "Twenty questions For You and Your Significant Other," she read aloud. "Harm, you can't be serious?"

"What?"

"We've known each other six years," Mac said. "We already know each other."

"I bet there's some stuff we don't know about each other. Read the first question," Harm reclined back, folding his arms behind his head.

Mac rolled her eyes. "Alright, What's your favorite color? That's easy, your favorite color's blue."

Harm smirked. "Nope."

"What?" Mac looked up at him, taken aback. "Your favorite color is blue!"

"No it's not."

"It has to be blue! You're in the Navy!" Mac exclaimed. Harm chuckled.

"It's not blue," he insisted. "See, we don't know everything about each other."

Mac shook her head. "You're messing with me. Your favorite color's blue."

Harm smiled, finding Mac's trademark stubbornness incredibly amusing when used to defend her knowledge on his favorite color. "I'm not messing with you."

"Fine," Mac sat the magazine down. "If it's not blue, then what is it?"

"Orange."

"Orange?" Mac wrinkled her nose. "That's an awful color."

"It is not! It's a good color!" Harm said, frowning. "Sunsets are orange. Oranges are orange."

"It doesn't go with anything."

"It goes with...other shades of orange. Plus, it stands out," Harm added. "I like things that stand out."

Mac noticed Harm's eyes were on her when he said that, and she smiled, blushing a little. Only Harm could make her turn to mush with a simple compliment.

"What's your favorite color?" Harm asked.

"You know my favorite color," Mac answered. "It's red," she grinned. "I like things that stand out, too."

She used to like green before she went into the Corps, then her entire life turned Marine-green and she found that she didn't enjoy the color too much-in her off hours, at least. Red was striking, attention grabbing, bold qualities Mac liked in general, not just for a color.

"What's your second favorite color?" Harm asked.

"People have second favorite colors?" Mac eyed Harm apprehensively.

"Sure they do," he said. "Mine's blue."

Harm grinned as Mac swatted at him playfully. "Umm...I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "I've always liked yellow, I guess. I was thinking we could paint the baby's room that color, since we're not finding out the gender."

"Yellow…" Harm repeated. "That's nice...for a baby's room."

"You don't like it?" Mac's eyebrows shot up. "Yellow's a pretty color! The sun's yellow."

Harm shrugged. "It's just not one of my favorites."

"Says the guy that likes orange," Mac grimaced. "You wouldn't have orange sunsets without the yellow sun."

Harm shook his head at the smug look he received from Mac. He put his hands up in surrender. "Alright, I yield," he said. "What's the next question?"

Mac cleared her throat, picking up the magazine from where she'd discarded it on the sofa. "What's one thing I do that you find gross?"

"That's easy," Harm said. "you eat meat."

Mac rolled her eyes. It took her a minute to think, because she didn't exactly think of Harm as gross, but it wasn't impossible for her to come up with something. "Sometimes, on the weekend after you run, you get back in bed without showering first."

"How is that gross?" Harm asked. Mac's mouth dropped open.

"How is eating meat gross?" she countered.

"You're eating a dead anima! That's disgusting!"

Mac scoffed. "A dietary preference is not gross. You climbing back into bed after running ten miles, and then trying to cuddle up to me with your sweaty body-that's gross."

Harm frowned. "I just wanna be there with you when you wake up," he said, pouting. He personally believed the affection he wanted to show Mac was more important than the necessity for clean sheets-and Mac not getting nauseous from his smell.

Mac rolled her eyes at Harm's petulant expression. "That's sweet of you, but I'll stay in bed until after you shower if it means that much to you."

"I get your drift. Next question."

"What's one thing you wish you could unsee?"

"Easy. You with Brumby."

"Harm!" Mac swatted at him again.

"What?" Harm asked innocently. "It's a valid answer."

"I know," she said. "But tell me something I don't know."

Harm paused for a moment to think, and Mac watched his expression intently. She noticed his cheeks suddenly turned pink. "What is it?" she asked. "What do you wish you could unsee?"

Harm ran his fingers through his hair. "It's-it's nothing," he said, shifting his position on the couch.

Mac raised her eyebrows at him. "Seriously? Why are you blushing that hard?"

"I'm blushing?" Harm's hand darted up to his face. Once he found out he was blushing, he only blushed harder.

"Looks like you left your poker face at Beltway Burger, hon," Mac nudged him with her foot. "Come on, tell me."

Harm smiled, his blush deepening. "Um, when I was teenager I...walked in on my mom and Frank."

Mac gasped and Harm's blush reached a fever pitch. He glowered at her as she giggled. "In my defense, they didn't lock the door," he said Mac kept laughing.

"Why were you even going into their room at night?" she asked.

"It wasn't at night. It was the middle of the afternoon."

"Oh my god-it was in broad daylight?" Mac exclaimed. "You walked in on your parents in broad daylight?"

Harm nodded grimly. "I'm just grateful they were under the covers."

Mac laughed harder at Harm's expression. He pursed his lips and waited for her laughter to die down. Finally he asked. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, I'm good," she said through a few final giggles. "Sorry, I'm just picturing your face when you opened that door and-"

"Okay, okay," Harm cut her off. "I get it. What's one thing you wish you could unsee?"

"The first time I saw a guy naked."

Harm froze. "What?"

Mac shrugged, smirking. "You heard me. I would unsee the first time I saw a guy naked. It's true. I'm not lying."

"Mac," Harm said, narrowing his eyes. "Don't you think that's a little bit dramatic?"

"Dramatic?"

"It was a penis, Mac."

"Easy for you to say!" Mac said. "You have one. Imagine having never seen one in person before, and Chris Ragle just unzips his pants in the cab of his truck and that thing just jumps out at you-"

"Wait a minute," Harm said. "Your first time was Chirs Ragle?"

"Next question."

"Hold on-"

"Next question, Harm."

"You're the one with the article!"

"Fine, fine," Mac hastily turned the page. "If I was a breed of dog, what breed would I be?"

Harm breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for a question that wouldn't lead to dredging up anymore awkward experiences. "Bulldog," he said.

"Bulldog?"

"It's the Marine mascot!"

Mac smirked. "You've gotta come up with some more original answers, Flyboy," she said. "I think you'd be a dachshund."

"A dachshund? As in a wiener dog?" Harm looked at Mac in disbelief. She nodded. "Why, pray tell, would I be a dachshund of all dog breeds?"

"You're…." Mac paused, trying to find the perfect description. "Annoyingly underfoot sometimes, but you make for it by being endearing and entertaining...and you have a tendency to be unnecessarily aggressive."

Mac could immediately tell by Harm's expression that he did not like being labeled a dachshund. Inwardly, she cringed. "You know what," she said. "If this is gonna lead to us breaking up, why don't we just-"

"Next question."

"You can be a Labrador if you want-"

"Mac, read the next question."

"I love you, honey," she said sweetly, scooting closer to place a kiss on his cheek. She nuzzled her face into his neck. "What's the weirdest dream you've ever had?"

Harm turned his head to glare at her, but when he saw the impish grin Mac had on her face, he couldn't help but smile.

"Also, can you rub my feet?" she asked, propping her feet into his lap.

"Only as long as you never call me dachshund again."

Mac settled into her foot rub, with a pillow to prop herself up and the magazine in her hand. "What's the weirdest dream you've ever had?" she repeated the question, sighing in contentment as Harm began to rub her feet. Her work heels never used to bother her before she got pregnant, but now her feet were screaming at the end of every day. Harm had come to rescue with his foot rubs on multiple occasions.

"Well," Harm started. "I always get weird dreams when I sleep in a strange place. So, the first week I was stationed on a carrier I had this dream that I was in a classroom back at the Academy, and I was naked-"

"This should be interesting."

Harm smiled. "And all my ex-girlfriends were there."

"All 100 of them?" Mac asked dryly.

"No, it was only about fifty. The other half couldn't make it," Harm corrected. "But yeah, that's probably the weirdest dream I've ever had."

Harm thought about telling Mac about the dream he had where her and Renee were in the boxing ring, and he had to break them up. However, he decided against it. "What about you?" he asked.

Mac opened her eyes "Do my visions count?"

"Nope. It has to be a normal person's dream."

Mac scowled. "A lot of people have intuition!"

"Intuitions aren't dreams."

"Let's see…the weirdest dream I ever had," Mac paused for a minute to think. It didn't take long for her to come up with one.

"Do you remember that lecture I gave a few months ago at the Academy?" she asked. "About the mutiny on the USS Somers?"

Harm nodded. "Yeah. Was the dream about that?"

"Not exactly," Mac said. "Well, kind of. Basically, I had a dream that Mic was the captain of the ship and you were one of the mutineers."

"So you had a dream that Mic had me executed for mutiny?"

"Yeah" Mac nodded. "I consider it a manifestation of my conflicted feelings about the two of you," she explained. "But don't worry, I'm no longer conflicted.

Harm smiled. "That's good."

"Let's see…" Mac scanned the article to find her place. "Have you ever been skinny dipping?"

"Yes," Harm answered. It was the only thing he remembered from the night he graduated high school. "Have you?"

"Yep."

"We should go sometime."

Mac smirked. "Yeah, next summer can work...if we can find a babysitter."

"I can call in a few favors," Harm winked.

"If you could swap bodies with your significant other for a day, what's one thing you would do?" Mac read. "That's easy. I'd masturbate."

Harm's eyes widened and he stopped rubbing her feet. "Masturbate?"

Mac shrugged, finding Harm's shock hilarious. "I wanna know if it feels different with a penis."

"Mac, our kid has ears."

"It can't hear for another two weeks though," Mac replied. "What's one thing you'd do if you were me for a day?"

"I'd have sex."

"Really?" Mac asked dryly.

"Yeah," Harm shrugged. "I've always wondered what my technique felt like from the other perspective."

"Wow." Mac scoffed. "Narcissistic, much?"

"Seriously, though," Harm insisted. "What's it like?"

"Well, it's good-"

She stopped herself when she saw Harm's expression. Mac blushed a little, hiding her face behind the magazine. "Next question?" she asked, her voice muffled by the glossy magazine pages.

All Harm did was nod. "Next question," he said, tickling the bottom of Mac's feet. She shrieked, jerking her feet away from him.

"What's the most embarrassing thing that happened to you in middle school?"

"Middle school?" Harm wrinkled his nose. "I don't even remember middle school. I only remember about five things from before I turned sixteen."

"Surely you remember something," Mac said.

"Nope," Harm shook his head. "I blocked out everything a long time ago."

"Why?" Mac asked coyly, gently prodding his thigh with her foot. "Were you awkward?"

"Wasn't everyone?" Harm asked, trying to ignore the blush rising to his cheeks for the second time during this questionnaire. He really should've read the questions beforehand, because if he knew the questions would be this...invasive, he would've rented a movie for him and Mac to watch instead.

"Yeah," Mac said. "But I'm not interested in everyone. I'm interested in what kind of awkward, gangly pre-teen boy you were."

"It's a long story."

"I bet it isn't."

Harm huffed, glowering at Mac, who had a wide shit-eating grin on her face. "It was in the eighth grade."

"Uh-huh," Mac nodded. "Go on."

"I was kissing a girl for the first time, and I uh..."

"You what?" Mac sat up in anticipation.

"I cut my bottom lip on her braces and it bled everywhere," Harm finished. "There. You happy?"

Mac snickered. "Wow, Flyboy."

"I was thirteen. Like your story is any better."

"Oh it's not," Mac said, smiling ruefully at the memory. "I was in math class, and I was wearing this brand new, white skirt that I got at the mall."

"That's not bad-"

Mac held up her hand. "You didn't let me finish," she said. "I was on my period."

Harm's expression fell as he put two-and-two together. "Oh…"

"Yep," Mac nodded, remembering vividly how mortified she was when she stood up at the end of that class. "That's another reason I chose the Marines over the Navy; I'm still a little traumatized by white skirts."

Harm laughed. He found it hard to believe that Sarah Mackenzie had once been anything other than the squared-way Marine sitting before him. Hard to believe, but adorable all the same.

"What's the next question?"

"If you could date a celebrity for a day, who would it be?"

"Julia Roberts," Harm answered right away.

"Wow, someone has a crush."

Harm shrugged, ignoring Mac's smug expression. "I loved her in Notting Hill. What about you?"

"Brad Pitt. Loved him in Legends of the Fall," Mac looked down at the magazine. "What's your middle name? Oh that's easy. Your middle name is…" her voice trailed off as she realized she didn't actually know Harm's middle name.

"James," Harm supplied. "And yours is?"

"Elizabeth."

"Well, that was easy enough. Next question."

"What's the worst lie you ever told?"

Harm smirked. "One time, in high school, I borrowed Frank's car and I ended up denting the bumper because I backed into a tree. When he found out about it, I lied and said I didn't know what happened."

"In college, I lied and told one of my friends that her bleached hair looked good when it really looked awful."

"Oh come on!" Harm said. "That's not that bad."

"She was getting married that weekend," Mac deadpanned.

"Do you have pictures?"

Mac rolled her eyes. "I'll have to look," she answered. She read the next question to herself before reading it aloud and laughed. "You'll like this one."

"Why?" Harm sat up. "What is it?"

"If you could create a law that everyone had to follow, what would it be?"

Harm grinned. He did like that question. "That's easy. Everyone would have to do exactly what I say," he announced, absurdly proud of his completely absurd answer.

"Well, if I made a law, it would say that you would have to do exactly what I said."

"Just me?" Harm asked. "Why not everyone?"

Mac shrugged. "I only want to terrorize you, I'm not selfish enough to want everyone in the world to bend over backwards for me."

"What makes you think I can bend over backwards?"

"I've seen what you can do in between the sheets," Mac said. "Bending over backwards wouldn't be impossible for you."

Harm's grin widened. "Are you saying I have-"

"Sexual prowess?" Mac finished. "Maybe. I've taught you well."

"Taught me? You taught me?"

"Don't get so arrogant. I rock your world."

Harm couldn't say anything to refute. Mac did have a penance for rocking his world, and his ego had no problem admitting to it.

"What can I say?" he shrugged. "I don't call you 'Ninja Girl' for nothing."

Mac bolstered at the complement of her sexual prowess as she read the next question. "What's your favorite band and/or singer?"

"Elton John."

"Really?" Mac was surprised: "I would've pinned you for a Beetles guy."

Harm shook his head. "Nah, they were never really my thing. When Frank first married my mom and he moved in with us, it was all he would play, so I think I got a little sick of them. The Eagles are pretty good, too."

"I like Fleetwood Mac," Mac said casually, as if the pun went right over her head.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"Your name is Mac and your favorite band is Fleetwood Mac," Harm said. "You've got to admit there's some humor there."

Harm wasn't the first person who thought he was the funniest person alive to make the pun between Mac's name and her favorite band. It got old about ten years ago, but Mac would make an allowance for the father of her child.

"Well, if you want to get technical, my name is Sarah," Mac said. "And I liked Fleetwood Mac before I got the nickname 'Mac.' And anyway, who doesn't like Fleetwood Mac?"

She's right, Harm thought, everyone likes Fleetwood Mac.

"When was your first kiss?"

Harm groaned. "What's with all these awkward questions?"

"I don't know," Mac shrugged. "I guess it's so we can get to know each other better."

"You can get to know me well enough without knowing all my awkward teenage stories. Next question."

"How'd you lose your virginity?"

"Next question."

Mac snickered at Harm's disdain for sharing stories from his teenage years. Someday she'd pry those stories out of Harm. Someday.

"If you could go back and relive one experience in your life, what would it be?" Mac read.

"Flying for the first time. You?"

"The time I spent at Red Rock Mesa."

Harm looked at Mac, his brow furrowed. "Weren't you drying out there with your uncle?"

"Yeah," Mac nodded. "but it had its moments. Like watching the sun rise. The sun rising over the desert is one of the most gorgeous things I've ever seen."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Harm made a mental note of that. A trip out west might be a good idea for him and Mac, maybe as a little post-baby getaway just for the two of them. He wouldn't like it too much (he never really saw the appeal of the desert), but Mac would enjoy it, and that would be good enough for Harm.

"What's your worst fear?"

"Legitimate fear or a silly fear?" Harm asked.

"Hmmm…" Mac chewed her lip in thought. "Silly fear. I don't feel like turning this into a therapy session."

"I hate snakes. They give me the creeps," Harm said, shuddering at the thought of the reptile. Usually he was all for animal rights, but if all snakes dropped off the face of the earth, he wouldn't complain.

"I hate needles," Mac said. This was the first he'd heard of it, but he'd picked up on it. Mac had gotten her blood taken at some appointments, and Harm noticed how she screwed her eyes shut and almost seemed to hold her breath (which wasn't a good idea when you're losing blood, but Harm didn't say anything) until it was over.

"If you could have any other job, what job would you have?"

"I don't know," Harm said. "I never really pictured myself doing anything other than the military. Well, becoming a lawyer was kind of a surprise."

"You never dreamed about being anything else?" Mac asked. Harm shook his head.

"I always wanted to be like my dad," Harm answered. "What about you? What did Little Mac want to be when she grew up?"

Mac smiled. "I don't know, I always liked science. I guess being an anthropologist would be cool. Or a paleontologist," she flashed him an impish grin.

"You and your dinosaurs," Harm said teasingly. "What's the next question? Are we almost done?"

Mac smirked. "For this being your idea, you certainly are impatient to get this over with."

"Just eager to get this over with so you can rock my world."

"At ease, soldier. What's something you always wanted to tell me? Uh-oh," she looked up at Harm. "Sharing our feelings, that's dicey territory for us."

Harm frowned. "We're getting better," he said.

Mac leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. "Fine then. You go first."

Harm really wasn't expecting to go first. It wasn't that he couldn't find anything he liked about Mac. There were a million things that he liked-loved about Sarah Mackenzie, and he discovered new things everyday. However, he wasn't good with words outside of the courtroom, and articulating those feelings was easier said than done.

He figured he could start off small.

"I love your laugh," he said finally. Mac looked up in surprise.

Harm knew he could end it there, but he didn't want to. He would have to grow up and start confessing his feelings sooner or later. Not being a sap was kind of overrated.

"You have a really great laugh," he continued. "Like, when you really laugh, it's great, It's like a shot of pure serotonin for me."

Mac smiled, completely flattered and taken aback by Harm's admission. Personally, she thought her laugh was obnoxious.

"You have a great voice," she said. "It's like honey. I could listen to you talk all day."

"And all night?"

Mac grabbed the throw pillow from behind her back and swatted it at Harm. "See? This is what I mean," she said. "We can't have a moment without you making a joke."

"I'm sorry, babe. What's the last question?"

"If we had a kid, what would they be like?"

Harm's head jerked up. "You made that up! There's no way that's actually one of the questions-"

Mac held out the magazine for Harm to read. He read it, and sure enough, question 20 was If we had a kid, what would they be like?

"Well," he said, looking up at her with a smile. "What do you think our little guy or gal is gonna be like?" he reached out and placed a hand on Mac's stomach.

"I don't know," Mac mused, looking down at her bump. It was still small enough that Harm's hand nearly covered it all, but Mac swore it got bigger everyday. "Whenever I picture a boy I keep picturing a miniature Harmon Rabb running around."

Harm grinned. Of course he liked the idea of having a mini-me, but he could see how Mac-and everyone else for that matter-would find that prospect terrifying. "What if it's a girl?"

"I hope she's not like me," Mac stated frankly.

"Why not?" Harm asked. "I'd love a little Mini-Mac running around."

Mac snorted. "Of course you would."

"So you want a boy. Very 17th century of you."

"No, I never said that," Mac clarified. "I just hope that, if it's a girl, she'll be better than me, you know? She won't make the same mistakes I did, she won't have my faults, stuff like that."

"Isn't that what every good parent wants for their kid?"

Mac paused. "Yeah-I guess it is."

She yawned, checking the clock mounted on the wall. It was 2145-not even ten o'clock on a Friday night and she was yawning.

"I miss the time before I got pregnant when I could stay up past 2200 without worrying about falling asleep on my feet," she said wistfully.

Harm smiled. "You ready for bed, Ninja Girl?"

"I'm not eight Flyboy, don't ask me if I'm ready for bed," Mac said as she got to her feet. She yawned again. Dammit. "I am, however, ready to put on my pajamas and curl up in bed and watch some really terribly reality TV. You can join me if you want."

Harm made a face as Mac walked into her bedroom. He couldn't imagine how Mac could have a TV in her apartment, let alone in her bedroom. Mac was even able to fall asleep while it was still on, something Harm thought was utter insanity.

"So, no world-rocking tonight?" Harm teased from the doorway of Mac's bedroom.

"You try being pregnant. See how tired you get after a full day," Mac said as she pulled her Marine Corps sweatshirt over her head.

Harm walked over to the dresser, where he stashed his clothes for when he spent the night at Mac's place. She kept the majority of her clothes in her closet with the exception of her jeans and sweatpants, so most of the dresser real estate was open for Harm's taking.

"We still have the whole weekend, though," Mac said as Harm turned around to sift through one of the drawers. Unbeknownst to him, she was still holding the magazine in her hand. She rolled it up into a cylinder shape and snuck up behind him, swatting his six with it.

Harm jumped and slowly looked over his shoulder, giving Mac a dry expression.

"Gotcha," she told him belatedly.

"I thought you said we had the whole weekend," he said.

Mac shrugged. "That was just a preview."