~Chapter 3~

Maggie stopped just outside of the RecRoom, a nervous hand smoothing the blonde hair twisted into an elegant French braid, then dropping down to finger the pearl choker at her throat. She was ready, she could do this. Just smile at everyone, stick with Mikaela and avoid Prime at all costs.

Maggie took a deep breath and stepped inside. The party was already in full swing, what looked like an entire army base of guys had shown up, and… she was vastly overdressed.

Maggie felt her brain hit the mental desk in her head with a dull thunk. Damn. Just- Damn. She was sure Jazz said it was a special occasion, but apparently she couldn't even get that right.

Honestly, if she could just get her feet under her for more than five minutes at a time, and at least look like she was competent, that would be something. Starting a new job was nerve-wracking enough. Starting a new job with giant alien robots was like getting blind-sided constantly. She'd spent more time mentally picking herself up off of the floor this week, than actually working.

Her first week on her dream job and it had been a straight-up, total disaster from start to finish. And now this.

Maggie went over to one of the snack tables and poured some wine into a cup, glaring at it before taking a sip. Of course it was a plastic cup, a big, red plastic cup. Why the hell had she been thinking 'cocktail party with real wine glasses and trays of elegant appetizers floating around the room'? She looked over the array of drinks and snacks on the table. Wine, beer, soda, pretzels, popcorn, an assortment of chips. Standard party fare. Figured. All that was missing was the-

A cheer went up, and Maggie turned to see a couple of army guys carrying in stacks of boxes. Right. Pizza was here. Game on.

Maggie gave up. She didn't stand a chance fitting in with this crowd. She snagged one of the bowls of popcorn, and made a beeline for the couch to the side of the room where she could watch all the action and remain relatively unnoticed.

She finally spotted Mikaela in the crowd of camouflage, and was tempted to join her, but no, there was Sam, and they were arguing, or about to start arguing. No way, not going near that. She saw Bumblebee walk in, and head for them immediately. Maybe he could buffer things a bit. Mikaela looked like she was ready to hit something. Possibly Sam.

Ratchet was near the large outer doors, holding a deep fluorescent pink cube, talking to some of the men. Jazz was in the middle of the room, down on one knee, surrounded by a small crowd. He looked good. Really good, with the way his armor glowed under all the lights. Of all the mechs, the men seemed most comfortable with him, laughing and chatting easily. Some spoke earnestly, reaching out to shake the finger Jazz extended to them, others openly admired the gleaming armor and the large gun he displayed for them. One man daringly touched it and received a smirk. Jazz said something, and the man flushed bright red while his companions roared with laughter.

She noticed Mikaela had left Sam and joined Ratchet. Maggie fingered the pearls around her throat. Should she join her? Maybe she should join her. This was a party; she should really circulate and at least pretend like she was having a good time. She looked down at her little black dress again, the one that was supposed to go with any occasion, like mingling in a room full of guys in fatigues who hadn't been let loose in god knew how long. Heh, right. No way.

She had yet to meet the Lennox family, but there was no sign of them or their guardian. What was his name again? Ironskin… Ironshell… Iron-… something. God, it would be so nice if she had even two brain cells to rub together and call her very own.

Maggie looked back at Sam. He wasn't moving, just staring at the army guys around him with the most peculiar expression. Bumblebee was crouched next to him. He reached one large hand out to touch his shoulder, and Sam flinched and whirled around to face him. Bee's hand dropped. His head reared back in surprise.

Maggie frowned. That was strange, definitely-

She jumped when Mikaela flopped onto the couch next to her.
"Oh god, don't do that to me! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry. Thought you saw me coming." Mikaela looked her up and down. "Wow, Maggie. Okay, I'm officially jealous and no longer your friend. And who'd you get all dressed up for anyway? The cute rangers over there?"

"No, Jazz said-"

"You did it for Jazz?"

"Well, Jazz told me it was a special occasion, so I just thought-"

"Aww, Maggie that's so nice of you to dress up for his big Welcome Back party. Jazz notices those kinds of things, too. Trust me, he'll love it."

Oh and she could just feel her brain pounce on all the implications in those statements. Like, why was Jazz gettingwelcomed back and why would he love what she was wearing and how could an alien robot ever appreciate clothing anyway since they didn't wear clothes, but maybe the armor was clothing, it did come in different colors, but if it wasn't clothing then technically they were all walking around nak-.

Maggie smacked her brain, telling it to shut the hell up. Really, it deserved it. If her brain had paid more attention to her work this week instead of who she was working with, all would have been well. Great. Fantastic even. Instead, she looked like an idiot. She failed. Life sucked.

Maggie took another sip of wine, wondering morosely if there was any possible way to redeem herself.

Mikaela reached a hand towards Maggie's bowl of popcorn.

"Share?"

"What? Oh, sure, help yourself."

"Thanks." Mikaela scooped up a handful. "Glad you finally got here. I don't know how much more testosterone I can take with all these army guys, plus Sam's doing his best to stomp on my last nerve."

"Yeah, I saw that. You did seem a little tense," Maggie said.

Mikaela gave an inelegant snort. "Tense? I was ready to throw my soda at his head." She popped a few kernels in her mouth and chewed, staring moodily across the room to where Bumblebee was standing now, gazing down at Sam who was looking at the floor.

"We really need to girl-talk later, Maggie. I'm about at my wits end with Sam. I don't know what's going on with him. All I do know is we fight all the time, about everything, and I don't even know how the arguments get started."

"Sure, but no MedBay talk."

"Okay. No signals talk either."

"Deal."

A minor commotion near the door drew everyone's attention, and then the crowd near the door swirled and parted and Optimus Prime entered, striding slowly and majestically across the room. Slowly, to allow the crowd of much smaller humans time to move out of his way. Majestically, because the imposing mech easily dwarfed everyone and everything around him. The very act of having to look up at a being so tall, the enormous size and sheer power of him, inspired feelings of awed respect. Even the cavernous RecRoom seemed smaller with his presence.

Mikaela poked Maggie with an elbow to her ribs. "Awesome, isn't he? I can't wait until Ratchet lets me work on him."

'Awesome' was not the word Maggie would have used, so she made a noncommittal noise instead, watching as the huge mech straightened from greeting a dozen or more men who had come forward to meet him. Prime's gaze swept the room. Maggie tensed when it landed on her and stopped. Prime's intense blue optics pinned her and another little noise came out, this one with a distinctly panicked edge to it. Prime had taken two long strides towards her when his much smaller Second stepped into his path.

She watched Prime stop and say something to Jazz, and Jazz reply in turn. Then they both looked at her. Maggie commenced looking longingly towards the doors. If she ran really, really fast-

Mikaela poked her again. "Nice try, but I knew he'd spot you hiding over here.

"I wasn't hiding."

"Sure you were."

"No I wasn't.

"Yes you were."

"Are they still looking?"

"Yup."

"Damn."

"Come on, Optimus, this is a party. You'll get her eventually, but now's not the time ta be arrangin' that. Here. Enjoy."

Prime accepted the cube of high-grade with a nod of thanks. "I had no intention of bringing that up with her, Jazz."

"Uh-huh, sure ya didn't. I saw the gleam in your optic. Your last chance ta practice on the latest of the fresh recruits. I think the others have finally stopped groanin', by the way."

Laughter rumbled through the Prime's massive chest. "Really. And I even shortened the duration of our time together, too, just for their comfort. But as far as our newest recruit is concerned, I only wanted to ask how she was settling in. However…"

The Prime paused, his optics resting on the young femme with mild amusement. Maggie seemed to be trying to disappear into the furniture.

"…Miss Madsen does not appear to be in the mood to welcome any advances from me tonight, Jazz. Perhaps you could speak with her and arrange a time."

"I'll do that. Oh, and a word ta the wise, Prime. Ratchet's gonna clobber ya, if ya don't get your head outta your office once in a while."

The amusement vanished. A frown gathered the optic ridges. The towering mech looked over to where the medic was talking with Captain William Lennox.

"You can't put it off forever, Maggie. You're the last."

Oh no, not the last. That meant she would be the only one. Just her. Alone. With the Prime. Maggie could feel a whimper threatening to break free, looking at the enormous mech again. Even from clear across the large room, she had to look way, way up to see his face.

Mikaela watched Maggie sink lower in her seat. "Maggie, Prime knows how big he is, and how overwhelming he can be to us. He'll make it as comfortable as possible for you. He's very gentle, really, once you get used to him."

Maggie plucked nervously at her strand of pearls and took another sip of wine. "How long did it take you?"

"Oh, not that long. After I rode on his hand—twice—then rode on his shoulder, then fell off his shoulder, then bounced off his foot, it was like we were good friends. All that's left now is for me to introduce myself to his insides, and that will probably make us best friends forever."

Maggie sputtered on her wine. "Do you have any idea how strange that sounds?"

Mikaela gave her a droll look. "Like any of this is normal? And hey, you're already one up on me. At least the Autobots know your name. No one even bothered to ask mine until we were all heading for debriefing. They just kept calling me 'the femme' or 'the female.' I found out that was short for, 'the-female-Sam-wants-to-mate-with.'"

Okay. How did alien robots know Sam wanted to- Never mind. Don't even go there. Was it time for more wine? Yeah. More wine. Definitely.

Maggie sighed. "Well, that's still better than 'Oh-you're-Maggie-the-female-who-screamed-and-ran-away-from-Prime.' God, that was just so incredibly embarrassing."

"You didn't scream that loud."

"Yes I did. I can't even look him in the eye now."

"Optics."

"Right, those."

Prime looked back at his Second with a lingering frown.

"You did tell Ratchet why I was delayed."

"I did.

"And?"

"And he was really lookin' forward ta seein' ya," Jazz said.

"I see." Prime paused and looked towards Ratchet again.

"I'd better go apologize."

"Right. And I'll just go say 'hi' ta the girls hidin' away over there."

"Certainly. But before you go, Jazz, I should warn you that the C.O. will be giving a speech shortly, and then wishes to give you an award on behalf of the President for your bravery and sacrifice in defense of their country."

Jazz stilled, his smile fading. "Sort of pointless, isn't it? Now that I'm back from the dead an' all."

"This award seems to mean a great deal to them."

"The party was enough, Optimus. Ya know I didn't want any big fuss."

"It was the humans' idea, Jazz," Prime said. "Cooperating with them will cost nothing and gain us good will in the process. It's a small enough thing, compared to some of what they're asking of us."

Jazz's visor swirled with color and shaded into black. Prime clicked concern.

"Is something wrong?"

The visor shimmered to silver. Jazz shrugged.

"Naw, I'm fine. And I take it your conference call didn't go well."

"Not very, no. The results were inconclusive, and our status here remains undefined."

"Too bad. Would've been good to get that nailed down."

"Agreed. If we cannot, we may need to consider alternatives."

"Understood. Okay, go apologize, and then relax a little, Prime. This is a party, after all."

Prime glanced towards Ratchet once again. "Hmm. Relax. I'll try to remember how to do that."

"Huh. Looks like Jazz ran interference for you, Maggie."

Maggie's sigh of relief was audible. Mikaela snickered.

Jazz joined them, squatting down in front of the couch with his hands draped casually over his knee joints.

"You two havin' fun?" he asked. "And wow, Maggie." His gaze on her lingered, moving down, then up again in a slow once over. "Ya look gorgeous tonight."

Did he just do what I think he did? No. No, of course he didn't.

Uhhh, said her brain. Maggie kicked it into gear.

"Oh. Thank you, Jazz. You look… very nice."

"Aww, I was hopin' for 'handsome,'" Jazz replied with a grin, "but I'll take 'very nice'."

Maggie's brain gave a small meep. She looked down at her bowl of popcorn, completely flustered, while Mikaela laughed outright. "Well, I'll say it. You look very handsome tonight, Jazz. And just how long did you spend polishing all that armor, anyway?"

"Not that long. 'Bee helped me buff up."

"He did a great job. Shiny, Jazz, very shiny. Oh, and Maggie told me she got all dressed up just for you, didn't you, Maggie? She wanted to look nice for your party."

Maggie's head jerked up; she stared open-mouthed. "What? Mikaela I-"

Jazz whistled softly. "Ya did? Wow, again. Thanks, Maggie. I'm flattered."

Mikaela beamed. "See? I told you he'd like that you got all dressed up." Jazz rumbled a pleased agreement, and just as the heat started climbing up into Maggie's cheeks, he reached out and gave her popcorn bowl a playful tap.

"Hey. I know you're still gettin' used ta bein' here, and you're nervous and all, but ya did good this week."

Jazz watched Maggie's mouth open and close a couple of times. Interesting reaction, but she didn't seem to be reassured. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the part about being nervous.

"I- I- I did?" she finally squeaked out. "Really? Because I know I haven't been paying enough attention and I'm sorry I've been so distracted and I'm usually much better at-"

"Maggie," Jazz said, "ya did good. Really." Half his visor dimmed down and lit up again in a wink.

A shy smile curved Maggie's lips. "Thanks, Jazz. You just made my week."

His head tipped slightly, his smile deepened. "You're welcome, Maggie. Anytime."

Mikaela's hand tapped Maggie's in the popcorn bowl.

"Hey, Ironhide and Sarah just got here. We should go say hi."

"Wait a minute." Jazz stood up, turning towards Ironhide. The black mech snapped a glare in his direction but made no other acknowledgement.

Jazz gestured to the girls to stay put. "Hold that thought; he's not real happy right now. Lemme go make sure his cannons are locked down. I'll catch up with ya later."

Silver armor flashed and gleamed as he moved away, and Maggie watched him a moment, wondering how he planned on managing an angry mech twice his size.

She eyed the enormous black mech nervously. He was definitely a bit too close for her comfort. He looked bigger than Prime right now. Jazz joined him, but Ironhide never glanced away from the pale, blonde woman standing quietly next to him, holding a baby.

"So that's Sarah?" Maggie asked.

"Uh-huh. She doesn't seem very happy either. I really need to nag Ratchet into telling me- Oh, there's Will."

The tall, handsome, dark-haired man greeted Ironhide, then took the baby from Sarah. Will turned away with his daughter in his arms, flashing a proud smile to the soldiers nearest him. An attractive, muscular black man reached for Annabelle and cuddled her close, cooing at her and tickling her stomach.

Sarah was left alone. Her look of shock turned to hurt, and she reached up to place a hand on Ironhide's leg, still staring after her husband.

"Oh hell," Mikaela said. "I cannot believe he just did that to her."

Maggie heard a low rumble of sound, and Sarah looked up at Ironhide. Then she shook her head and went out the same door she had just walked through not five minutes earlier.

Jazz put a hand on Ironhide's arm but was brushed aside. Maggie startled as a sound like thunder rolled through the room.

"Shit!" Mikaela breathed next to her, and all eyes turned towards the black behemoth glowering down at Will. The man flinched and froze, and the entire room stilled. Time hung suspended, the moment stretching out longer and longer, balanced precariously on a razor's edge, threatening at any instant to topple over and explode into violence.

Large metallic hands fisted. Ironhide was bristling up, menace in every line of his frame. Maggie's mind was screaming warnings to Run! Run!, tension shrilled along every last one of her nerves, and then Ironhide's huge armored head suddenly snapped up and swiveled towards the Prime, along with the other Autobots' in the room.

Prime never moved or even uttered a sound that Maggie could hear, but after a moment, Ironhide turned abruptly with a clash of heavy plates and stomped out the door after Sarah.

Maggie grabbed her glass of wine and tried to remember how to breathe.

"Oh hell," Mikaela said. "Ironhide growled at Will. That is so not good. Will should know better than to piss off 'Hide like that."

Maggie almost choked on her wine.

"Pissed off? That was him being pissed off? I thought Ironhide was going to kill him!"

"Huh? No, of course 'Hide wouldn't kill him, he's their guardian. But still, Ironhide's not exactly what you'd call patient, and he's got enough firepower to take out a platoon of tanks. I sure wouldn't want to make him mad."

Maggie heartily agreed.

The two girls watched the crowd of soldiers stirring restlessly, some casting uneasy glances towards Will Lennox, others towards the large open double doors where Ironhide could be seen standing outside with Sarah. From the low buzz of hushed voices, mutters of 'guardian' and 'threatened' and 'not good' and 'wrong' could be heard.

Prime's deep baritone drew everyone's attention.

"At this time, I would ask that Lieutenant Colonel Wolf please come forward to make his presentation."

An air of relief rippled through the room; a distraction from the disturbing scene they had witnessed was more than welcome. The C.O. stepped forward to a smattering of applause and whistles, glaring briefly towards some of the rowdier soldiers, who grinned and subsided into respectful silence.

"Good evening. It is my great pleasure to be here tonight, both as a representative of the United States Army, and on behalf of the President of our country. Many of us here were present at the events that occurred just a few months ago…"

Ironhide followed Sarah out from the Base.

He knelt beside her, his scanners measuring her increased heart rate and rapid ventilations, analyzing the moisture on her face. She was in pain.

Sarah's frame shook, and Ironhide reached out cautiously, ready to carefully soothe the small, trembling femme when she turned to him for comfort.

He waited.

Sarah didn't turn.

Ironhide withdrew his hand with a puzzled frown. Her behavior was perplexing. She did not seem to understand his role as her guardian.

He briefly considered searching the internet for the protocols of this world, then dismissed the thought. The internet contained so much contradictory information, he had long ago given up making sense of it. Best to let mechs who were built for the task deal with that mess. A conversation with Jazz might be useful, but for now, he had no clear idea how to approach her.

His guardian protocols protested his inaction, urging him to comfort her.

Ironhide silenced them. He knew what he should do, just not how to do it. This world, these humans, were so different.

Some things though, cut across all worlds and species.

Ironhide continued to watch over Sarah, wishing he could ease her pain.

"…The Presidential Medal of Freedom has its roots in the Medal of Freedom established by President Harry S. Truman in 1945 to honor civilian service during World War II…"

Prime shifted slightly as Ratchet moved up beside him.

:I will have to speak with Ironhide. He's become very protective of Sarah, I'm afraid, to the point of losing perspective. He should not be taking sides in this:

:Agreed, but that was a risk when you assigned him. You knew that. His guardian protocols will focus on the weaker members of any group:

:True, but I had not envisioned the potential dissolution of this group, a basic unit of their society. It is disturbing:

:It is, and equally disturbing to Ironhide. His systems are displaying signs of stress:

:Serious enough to reassign him?:

:Not yet. Nothing I can't handle for the time being:

:Then I will allow Ironhide to continue as guardian. If, as Jazz predicts, the pair does dissolve their bond, then the femme and her offspring will need him:

"…Since 1963, this medal has been bestowed in recognition of individuals who have made an especially meritorious contribution to the security or national interests of the United States, world peace, cultural or other significant public or private endeavors..."

:And Jazz? His progress continues to be satisfactory?:

:Well enough that I've cleared him for full duty:

:Good:

Prime's head turned slightly. Deep blue optics slanted down to the smaller mech beside him.

:I'm sorry I couldn't meet you as planned, Ratchet. There were urgent matters requiring my attention:

The barest flicker of optics acknowledged him.

:Jazz told me. Any progress?:

:Not enough. The humans need more time to adjust to our presence. We will have to be patient with them:

"… outstanding courage, sacrificing his own safety in order to ensure the safety of others…"

:And if they never adjust? We leave then?:

:No. We find another way to help them. I owe them that, and more, for bringing our war to their world:

:Not everything is your fault, Optimus:

:This is. I, and I alone, am responsible for sending the Allspark out from Cybertron. It landed here, on this planet, and brought our war with it:

:But now that Megatron is dead, and the Allspark destroyed, our war is over:

"… Our nation, our world, rests easier, safe in the knowledge that we have strong, new allies…"

:No. Starscream will summon the Decepticon forces, just as I have summoned ours. We have too much to do before they return, and not enough time to do it. Earth is our home now, and its people, my responsibility. I cannot abandon them to the Decepticons who would murder and enslave them, and strip away every resource this world has to offer. I wish this war were over, but I'm afraid it is not:

A complex tone was Ratchet's reply, a layered burst of harmonics encompassing frustrated longing, hungry desire, the need for so much more than what they had in the past, what they had now.

Prime's concurring tone spoke volumes. His hand lifted, about to caress the pale face turned up to his. He paused, and Ratchet's optics widened. It was rare for the Prime to forget himself. His hand dropped slowly, settling for the briefest of touches on Ratchet's shoulder armor, then withdrew. A small hint of regret lingered in his optics, and then that too, was gone.

The barest sigh of air slipped through Ratchet's vents.

"…and on behalf of the President of the United States, and a grateful nation, I am proud to present to you, the Presidential Medal of Freedom."

Jazz stepped forward to receive the award. Cheers and applause erupted from the watching crowd.

:I'd better run a systems check on Ironhide before he leaves:

Prime pinged acknowledgment and Ratchet turned and left. Prime's optics followed him as he slowly moved away.

The party was finally over. The last of the celebrants were waved off into the night or tucked up in their quarters, asleep or recharging. The Base was quiet.

Jazz sat on the edge of his berth, visor flickering through shades of purple and red. Moody, discontent, disturbed, restless, unhappy - none of these were words he normally associated with himself.

He unsubspaced his award and opened the case. The humans, the soldiers, the ones he protected, so happy to see him, so proud to give him their highest honor.

"You're okay. It's really you. Welcome back!"

His finger touched the medal nestled into its bed of white silk. Cold, inert, lifeless.

"What's wrong, Jazz?" he asked himself softly.

He closed the case and laid it on his desk.

"I'm convinced. You're fine. Glad you're back."

"Welcome back, Jazz. You were missed, deeply," said Prime.

Jazz exited the base and transformed, rolling out quietly until he passed the perimeter fence.

Engine revving, radio blasting, the silver Solstice leaped out into the night.

-o- -o-

Bullets ricocheted around him. Shouts and screams, agonized wails, the groans of the dying. Not his people, the others. The fascinating, exciting, wondrous organics-humans-that populated this planet.

:Ironhide! Where's Prime?:

:He's on his way!:

An echoing crash and boom as the monster landed in the street ahead of them.

"It's Megatron! Retreat! Fall back!:

Hushed voices behind him as he left the girls and headed for his quarters.

"Mikaela, what did Jazz do to get that medal?"

"He died, Maggie."

"He died? Jazz- died?"

The gas pedal pressed down. The engine roared. The speedometer climbed past 100.

-o- -o-

A monstrous silver foot stepped carelessly on an organic that fell in its path, crushing the human instantly. Enraged, he leaped recklessly into the path of the monster, shielding a group of fleeing humans, firing shot after shot, watching them bounce uselessly off of plating too thick for his weapon to breach.

:Jazz! Fall back! That's an order!:

:Jazz!:

The monster turned towards him, leveling its own huge gun at him. Proximity alarms screamed. Tactical readouts spat decreasing odds until they zeroed out. No chance. He had no chance. He continued firing, giving the humans behind him time to escape.

"Where? How?"

"Mission City. Jazz was protecting us. He tried to slow Megatron down. Megatron killed him."

:Jazz, where are you?:

Errors crowded his displays. Plates separating, metal rending, frame ripping. Pain.

Structure, compromised. Initiating regenerative systems.

Screaming.

Regenerative systems, offline.

Searing pain.

:Jazz! Respond!:

Main systems, failing.

Coolant lines burst, spraying wildly. Wires shredded and ripped. Sparks shot into the air. His tanks purged.

Initiating emergency stasis. Emergency stasis, inoperative.

:Jazz!:

Energon poured from his mouth, choking his screams.

Catastrophic failure in 10, 9, 8…

painpainpainpain

5, 4, 3, 2…

painpainpainpa-

The gas pedal slammed down to the floorboard. The engine screamed. The speedometer shot past 200.

-o- -o-

No clouds to cover the stars. Rain was rare in this region. The desert breeze stirred around him.

He sat silently, intakes drawing in the night air, listening to the skittering of small things that crawled and hopped and scurried through the brush and dry, packed earth, leaving tiny flashes of red on his heat sensors.

His AI pinged for his attention, feeding information into his displays. Diplomat to strange new worlds, alien specialist, cultural liaison, bridge-builder extraordinaire. His second duty called.

Jazz glanced over the specs listlessly.

"Is there more?" he asked.

The AI pinged negative. This was the recommended procedure for organic sentient species.

Jazz gazed out over the nighttime desert, that same disturbed, restless feeling stirring inside again. Something was wrong, something was missing.

"You're fine, Jazz. You're cleared for full duty."

He looked back down the long stretch of his lifecycle and saw fighting and chaos and death and destruction. Probability equations predicted more of the same for his future.

His homeworld was dark and dead, but the energies of this planet sang to him. Deep under the crust, the lifeblood of the planet churned hot. His home now, his world. Life in a million different forms swarmed around him.

"No," he told his AI. "I want to try something different."

A/N: In the midst of several RL crises, I finally managed to get this chapter out. Whew! Thank you once again to my lovely betas, Lady Dragon2 and LB82. You both have been so wonderfully supportive! And thank you to everyone who has reviewed, fav'd and alerted this story. I try to respond to every review; sorry if I missed anyone. I love the interest, feedback and encouragement. It helps, it really does. ;)