Show: General Hospital

Title: Change is Good 2

Disclaimer: I own them all... really I do! Hmm... I guess it's also time to admit I'm a pathological liar.

A/N: I know it's been a while, as I've been a bit blocked for my other story, but I recognise that the fanbase for this story is a little different and you shouldn't have to suffer for my shortcoming. Thanks a bunch for the spectacular reviews this story has been getting. I'm happy to see you're enjoying it.

X-X-X-X-X

CHAPTER SIX

Port Charles, New York

The shrill ring of his cellphone broke the monotony of sifting through an expense report for Elizabeth's latest New York showing for Zander as he sat at the desk in his office at the gallery that they equally co-owned. He reached for it quickly and said, "Hello?" almost gratefully.

"Why didn't you tell me Emily Quartermaine was coming to town?" the person on the other line launched in immediately without the courtesy of a hello.

Zander's brow wrinkled as he tried to place the voice. "Gia?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes," she huffed impatiently.

"Hey," Zander said with a smile, leaning back in his chair. "Where are you?"

Gia looked around irately. "I'm in the bathroom at Kelly's. Quit trying to change the subject. Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded again.

"First of all, hello, Gia, nice to hear from you after so many weeks of absolutely no correspondence; secondly, I didn't know that she was coming, she just showed up at the party."

"First of all, I didn't talk to you for those few weeks because I was buried in studying for the Bar exam, which I kicked ass in, if I do say so myself. Secondly, oh," she huffed in annoyance.

"Did you see her?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Hmmm..."

"What's that 'hmmm' for?" Gia asked. She was sitting on the toilet seat in one of the stalls, her cellphone clutched to her ear.

"Nothing."

"Don't do that, Z, it annoys the crap out of me."

"I'm just wondering why you're hiding out in the bathroom sneaking this phone call from your cell."

"I am not sneaking," she replied indignantly.

"Hmmm..."

Gia said nothing and only confirmed his speculation that she was jealous.

"Why does she always make me feel this way?" Gia asked, her voice mildly dejected. "Like I'm some classless social-mountaineer who's not good enough to coexist in the same universe as she does," she explained, her voice filled with dejection. "I mean, I graduated fucking Harvard Law School magna cum laude and yet she, who never even finished freshman year at PCU, has me feeling lower than an amoeba."

"Well, now you know how I feel when Prince Charming's around," Zander answered quietly.

For a while, neither said anything. "We're a pair, aren't we?" Gia asked, smirking ruefully, after the pregnant pause.

"I guess." Gia sighed heavily over the phone. "Listen, G," Zander said softly, mindful of his friend's insecurity. "Don't get all bent out of shape. You're smart and beautiful and," he was loathe to do anything in Nik's favour, "Nikolas loves you. It'll be fine. She's only here for a few weeks... you'll be with Nikolas the rest of your life. After she's gone, this mini-meltdown in the john will be nothing but a distant memory..."

Gia smiled. "Thanks." She paused thoughtfully. "So, how did she look to you?"

"Beautiful," Zander said after a brief soul-searching pause.

Gia's eyes closed. She didn't like what she heard, but she'd been expecting it. "You're doomed," she said matter-of-factly.

"Hey."

Zander looked up to see none other than Emily leaning against the doorjamb. "I'll call you back." He flipped the phone closed before Gia could say anything more, leaving her staring at her phone in disbelief as the dial tone registered in her ears. Emily was smiling at him. "Hi," he replied.

X-X-X-X-X

Portland, Oregon

Carly sat on the bench in the park, keeping a mindful eye out for the two boys. Admittedly, this was the first time she'd truly been alone when she'd taken the boys to the park. Back in her old life in Port Charles, a guard, Leticia or some other person had usually been present. Now, it was her complete responsibility to be watchful... the feeling of independence was strangely exhilarating.

Knowing one's body is as important as say, knowing one's children. Looking at the joy on her children's faces as they played, Carly realised that she knew very little of either. In hindsight, she realised that her body had been trying to tell her something was wrong but, as with most things, she was unable to read the signs. When she'd finally decided to take things in hand, it was too late... far, far too late.

Her cramping had been worst than ever recently. She'd relieved the pressure by taking Tylenol, an effort that failed miserably. Tylenol had proceeded to Advil then to Cataflam, which worked for a while but, two months later, she'd built up immunity to. Midol had been next on the list and, when that had stopped working a morning when she couldn't even get of bed, Midol and gin, Leticia's suggestion, a remedy she swore all the women in her family lived by. Three Midol, room-temperature gin, a hot water bottle and peace and quiet for a few hours... it worked for a while - she drank so much gin she passed out - but when next she woke, she had a serious bitch of a headache on top of the cramps.

At this time, they were living in San Francisco and, while the boys were out with Leticia, she'd taken herself to the hospital and, at a woman's clinic, made an appointment with a gynecologist. Dr. Tanya Jacobson was not what she'd expected at all - she was an absolutely gorgeous thirty-nine year old who'd graduated early from Harvard Medical School - but despite her youthful appearance she managed to instill a sense of security in Carly. After a brief explanation of her plights, the doctor had frowned thoughtfully before speaking, "Have you had an annual checkup, Carly?" she asked. "Pap smear and mammogram?"

"Yes," Carly nodded. She'd disciplined herself to this after her accident. She'd become slightly paranoid, hoping her amnesia or mild damage didn't put her at risk for any illnesses.

"Ok," Dr. Jacobson nodded. "It's possible you might have a condition known as endometriosis. Just to make sure, I'd like to schedule an abdominal and pelvic ultrasound."

"Endo - what?" asked Carly confused.

"Endometriosis," the doctor explained patiently. "It's a common cause of painful cramps - some of the lining from your uterus gets out of the uterus, into say your ovaries, and develops implants which can bleed into the abdominal cavity."

"Oh," Carly blanched. "Can this cause miscarriages?" she asked softly.

"Not exactly, because of the lack of lining in the uterus it mostly causes infertility because the fallopian tubes can become blocked. Have you had a miscarriage before?" she asked gently.

"Yeah... I fell," she explained, remembering when she'd lost Sonny's child when she'd fallen down the stairs whilst fighting with A.J Quartermaine.

"I'm sorry. But," she continued seriously, "some cases of endometriosis can be so terrible that a hysterectomy is necessary to save the woman's life."

Carly's eyes widened and a fear took hold of her heart. "Will it hurt? The ultrasound, I mean."

"No," Dr. Lawrence smiled encouragingly. "Nor does it take very long. I'll schedule an appointment for you at a radiology facility," she handed Carly a card. "Dr. Knight, is an excellent radiologist. She'll take good care of you."

Carly had been out of sorts the rest of the day - she hadn't told Leticia and the boys where she'd gone, not wanting to worry them - and she'd gone to her appointment two days later and returned home as though nothing had happened.

She'd continued to thank God that none of them were home that afternoon the telephone rang - she didn't think she'd have been able to act normally.

"Mrs. Corinthos, it's Miranda Knight. I have the results of your ultrasound."

"Dr. Knight," Carly said, her voice falsely bright. "So, doc, what's the diagnosis? Do I have endometri - whatever?" she asked, her voice deliberately light, almost flippant.

"No, there was no sign of it."

Carly's breath was full of relief. "Oh, that's wonderful. Right...?" she asked, when the Dr. Knight said nothing to share in her enthusiasm.

"There were some signs of an enlarged pancreas, Mrs. Corinthos," Dr. Knight said, feeling very much like a pin that had pricked a bubble.

"Whoa... what does that mean? I've never heard of your pancreas causing cramps."

"Well... there's no connection," Dr. Knight began.

"I don't get it," Carly said, her temper beginning to show. "What's the point? What the hell is going on with my body?"

"I'd like you to come in for a CT, Mrs. Corinthos. It might also be prudent to do a biopsy as well."

"Biopsy?" her voice was breathless and, if she hadn't already been seated, she would have slipped to the floor in shock. "A biopsy on what?"

"Your pancreas."

Tears pricked the back of her lids, but she kept her voice level. "Why? I come in for cramps, next thing you want me to get a goddamned biopsy?" she was failing miserably at keeping her voice level, her fear causing her to lash out at the doctor.

"I can only tell you the results of your ultrasound, Mrs. Corinthos," Miranda Knight replied evenly, "and what I saw is reason for concern."

"It seems like a bunch of hot air. It's like you doctors get off on ordering test after test, which I have to pay for. What if I don't go? What's gonna happen, you gonna call CDC on me?" she snarled sarcastically.

"Of course not, Mrs. Corinthos. Something is wrong with you, I can't know what for sure unless you have a CT. You're entitled to your opinion, of course, but I think you should discuss this with Dr. Jacobson before you make any rash decisions."

"Damn right, I will!" Carly slammed the phone down. "Fucking doctors!" she cursed, even as hot tears slid down her cheeks.

Five minutes later, when she'd deemed herself composed enough, she'd dialed the doctor's office. Tanya had endorsed Dr. Knight's suggestion and the next day, when she usually got her nails done, she'd gone back to the radiology clinic to have the CT and biopsy performed.

It was a few days later when, at dinnertime, the telephone rang. Leticia, who was in the kitchen scooping ice cream into bowls, answered it. "Corinthos residence."

"Good evening, this is Dr. Tanya Jacobson, is Mrs. Corinthos there?"

"Yes, one second, please," Leticia said with a mild frown. "Mrs. C," she called, "there's a Dr. Jacobson on the phone for you."

Carly bounded to her feet and grabbed the cordless phone, hurrying up the steps to her bedroom. Leticia frowned, finding her actions suspicious but, at the moaning of Michael and Morgan to hurry up with their dessert, she promptly forgot about it.

Upstairs in her room, Carly answered shakily. "Hello?"

"Carly, it's Dr. Jacobson. I've gone over the results of your CT and, I know you're not going to like it but, I'd like you to see another doctor."

"Jesus Christ!" Carly exploded.

"I understand you're upset -"

"You haven't a clue, doc," Carly interrupted. "What kind of doctor now, cause I tell ya, I'm all doctored up. Neurologists, gynecologists, radiologists - you name them, I've seen them."

"Dr. Landry is an oncologist."

She'd said the word that Carly had been dreading. The word that could be the only viable explanation as to why they couldn't find out exactly what was wrong. It scared her, but pissed her off even more.

"An oncologist... a fricking cancer doctor for cramps? Now I am convinced you're skinning me for my money! It's a conspiracy - you're passing me out to every damn doctor in the city!"

Tanya allowed her patient to rant before interjecting. "You know that's not true, Carly, but, whether you like it or not, you need to see someone who knows more than I do. Julian Landry is one of the country's most respected doctors. I pulled a few strings, and managed to get you an appointment tomorrow morning at ten."

"Tomorrow morning? That's awfully short notice, doc," Carly hedged, struggling desperately to get through the rest of the conversation.

"I know, but he's a busy man, Carly, so you're fortunate he could fit you in." Her voice softened, "I know the mere thought is overwhelming but you need to see him as soon as possible. He's a good man."

"I'm sure."

"Tomorrow."

"I heard you the first time, doc." She set the phone on the hook, went into her bathroom and promptly lost her dinner.

Julian Landry was a surprise. At forty-six, he looked as though he belonged in the pages of a GQ magazine wearing an Armani suit instead of in a stark white lab-coat and worn blue jeans. Under any other circumstances, she might have flirted but, whilst he was attractive, she wasn't about to think of pursuing something with the man that could bear news that would wreck her life.

He'd kept her waiting and she'd gazed around his office uncomfortably. By the end of five minutes, she knew he'd gone to Medical School at Yale, liked some team called Arsenal and was a bit of a slob. She was counting his diplomas when he breezed into his office. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs. Corinthos," he said, smiling professionally, his British intonation crisp. "We're a little short-staffed today and I was needed on a consultation."

Carly blinked, aware that she was staring but damn, he was hot! "No problem. Call me Carly, please."

"Of course and call me, Julian," he conceded taking a seat across from her. "I wager it'll make you feel a mite more comfortable than calling me 'doctor' every two seconds."

They exchanged a few pleasantries - minor small-talk like what part of England he was from (Kent), who Arsenal was (a football/soccer team), why did he choose to come to America (he needed better weather) - before Carly cut to the heart of the matter. "So, doc, what's wrong with me?" she asked, her voice much bolder and stronger than she truly felt inside.

Julian had been wondering when she'd finally broach the subject that had brought her to him in the first place. Often times, his profession was a very bleak existence; breakthrough and joy were many times nonexistent, despite his 'success' in the field. He had a feeling this case was going to be like this. Caroline Corinthos was so young, so vibrant, a mother, a wife... and she was dying.

"I've taken a look at your scripts from radiology as well as the results of your biopsy," he said, taking her file from a pile on his desk. He looked up at her, sitting so small on the other side of his desk. "I'm afraid they indicate a tumour in your pancreas."

Carly sobbed and looked away. Fear was suffocating her and it actually felt as though her throat was closing on her. She placed her head between her knees and tried to catch her breath. Julian hurried over to her and held her behind her neck, rubbing his hand along her back.

"Deep breaths, Carly," he instructed. "Deep breaths." His voice was strangely soothing and before long, she was breathing easier.

Carly finally raised her head and met his dark blue eyes, filled with sympathy. God, sometimes he really hated his job!

"Tumour," Carly repeated, her voice almost a squeak.

Julian nodded. He perched on the edge of the desk, keeping eye contact with her.

"Tumour... as in cancer?" she repeated as if to be sure.

"Yes."

Carly's eyes closed, and she felt tears pricking behind her eyelids. A keening moan escaped and her head dropped into her hands. Her shoulders began to shake with her sobs. Oh, God, she felt as though she would faint.

Julian, recognising the signs after many years of being the messenger, acted quickly. "Head between your knees again, Carly." He stroked her hair. "Long, deep breaths... keep doing it until you feel ready."

Five more minutes passed before she lifted her head again. Julian's hands cupped her shoulders, steadying her. She wiped the tears from her face feeling, of all things, embarrassed. He reached into his pocket and passed her a surprisingly snowy white handkerchief, which she accepted gratefully. "I'm sorry."

Carly took a shuddering breath, wiped the last of the tears from her face and squared her shoulders. "So tell me, doc, where's my pancreas?"

Julian smiled inwardly. Carly was being remarkable strong. He stood up and pointed to a chart on the far side of his wall. "The pancreas is that odd-looking thing there - it looks almost like a horizontal liver, thick on one end, thin on the other. This is the duodenum, the liver, spleen, stomach," he pointed each one out, Carly paying close attention. "Your tumour is here, at the thin end of the organ."

"So, what does it do?" she asked.

"It secretes pancreatic juice which aids in food digestion and also produces your body's insulin."

"Do I need it or can I get rid of it?"

"Well, it's not entirely indispensable," he explained. "It can be surgically removed. It's a procedure called a pancreaticduodenectomy or, quite simply, the Whipple procedure, but then the patient, well, they would have to receive artificial pancreatic fluid and insulin for the rest of their lives."

"You say 'they'," said Carly, her voice direct. "Does that include me?" she asked, unable to disguise the hope in her voice.

"No," Julian replied, shaking his head. "There is a certain amount of time - what we doctors like to call 'resectable' time - during which it's safe to operate when the tumour is confined to the pancreas. Unfortunately, Carly, yours is not." Carly looked away, but Julian pressed on. "The problem with this type of tumour is that is causes no symptoms at an early stage, so it's very difficult to be caught when surgery is a viable option. In fact, if Dr. Jacobson hadn't sent you to Radiology, you wouldn't be here talking to me right now."

"Wait," Carly said, shaking her head in disbelief, "Are you telling me that if I hadn't seen Dr. Knight, I never would have known I had cancer?"

"That's correct."

"Oh, my God," Carly whispered.

When next her gaze met her doctor's he continued. "Your cancer's spread to some lymph nodes known as the celiac nodes. Yours are enlarged - a further sign that operation is impossible."

Her next breath was deep. "Ok," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "You can't remove the pancreas, so what can you do? Chemo?"

"That's one of the options," Julian answered, returning to his perch at the end of the desk. "There are options for pancreatic cancer which can prolong life."

"'Prolong life'?" Carly asked confused. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, results differ with each case," Julian replied delicately.

"Jesus, Julian, I'm not a child, don't sugarcoat this! Not this!" she implored. "Tell me, say I take every treatment there is available, how much time do I have?"

Julian frowned. "Two years... perhaps three," he answered frankly.

Carly was frozen in shock. "No..." she whispered. So soon? She would not see her sons grow up... "Is that the longest?" she asked desperately.

"There're no guarantees... my projections could be off a few months maybe even years... but, Carly," he said, reaching for her hand, "there is no cure for pancreatic cancer."

Carly looked into his eyes and knew that he knew she understood what he'd been saying. That, no matter how much treatment she received, the cancer would eventually take her life. She'd needed him to boil it down to those simple terms and, now that he had, she was beyond frightened. But, she would not cry. She didn't have the strength to cry.

Now in the park, she sat and watched her sons playing, not surprised to realise that tears were running down her face. She hastily wiped them away knowing that, if Michael saw her crying, he'd want to know why, and she couldn't tell him. She didn't know what to tell him... how to tell him. And Morgan... her sweet beautiful boy. She would never see them grow up and for Carly, who'd gone through so pain her entire life, so much struggle to even have her children, that was the harshest wound of them all.

X-X-X-X-X

Port Charles, New York

"I was looking for Elizabeth," Emily explained, stepping fully into Zander's office. "Your assistant," she jerked her thumb in the direction of the actual showroom, "told me she wasn't here, but that you were, so I decided to drop in."

By this time, she had made it over to his desk and stood smiling down at him, one hand clasping the shoulder strap of her handbag.

"How nice of you," Zander replied, with a small smile. He picked up a silver pen from his cluttered desk and leaned back in his chair trying, but failing miserably, not to notice how pretty she looked today. Emily wore a lilac sleeveless Tee in that silky stretchy fabric women adored, dark denim jeans and black slides. Designer sunglasses sat framed on the top of her head and her chin-length hair was free around her face. Zander cleared his throat and set his pen down. "So, how was your night?"

Emily's gaze dimmed, but she managed to answer without raising Zander's suspicions. "It was alright. Yours?" she asked, internally cringing at the half-hearted attempt at conversation.

"Long. I had to finish some reports which, as you can see," he indicated the files spread out before him, "I haven't been very successful at completing."

Emily frowned thoughtfully as she picked one of the files up and perused it. "Would you like some help?" she asked, after skimming over the contents.

Zander frowned skeptically. "Could you?"

Emily smiled and shrugged as she sat in the chair opposite Zander's desk. "Well I am a CPA, you know."

Zander's mouth fell open. "You're kidding, right?"

She shook her head good-naturedly. "I had to do something with my time in England and I'll admit I got Grandfather's zest for working with numbers."

Zander grimaced in mock pain and clutched his chest. "Say it ain't so."

X-X-X-X-X

Kelly's

Nikolas looked up in concern as Gia made her way back to their table. "I was beginning to think you'd fallen in," he said in an attempt to thaw the frosty mood she'd adopted toward him since they'd bumped into Emily.

The look she leveled him clearly stated that she was in no mood for jokes.

"Oookkkk," Nikolas drawled, taking a hesitant sip of his soft drink.

Gia sighed, realising she was acting childishly and, drawing on Zander's words in the bathroom for inspiration, she said, "I'm sorry."

Nikolas looked surprised. "You're sorry?" he echoed incredulously.

"Yes," Gia huffed, rolling her eyes, hoping he wouldn't make her repeat. "I shouldn't take my dislike of Emily Quartermaine out on you and I did, so I apologise." Her explanation was abrupt and she didn't look at him again until Georgie had set their food on the table and he reached for her hand.

"Why does Emily bother you so much?"

Gia held his gaze. "The same reason why Zander bothers you so much," she replied truthfully.

At the mere mention of the other man's name, Nikolas's fingers tightened reflexively around Gia's. He nodded in understanding and simply let go of her hand.

They finished their meal in silence.

X-X-X-X-X

Portland, Oregon

Carly was maneuvering her car through downtown Portland when her cellphone rang. She had it set on hands-free so, after the first ring, the connection was open and Julian's crisp English accent came over the speakers.

"Carly, it's me -"

As soon as she recognised the voice, she snatched the phone from its holder. "Hi," she said, not wanting the boys, especially Michael, to know who she was talking to.

"Hallo, love," Julian replied.

Carly smiled reflexively. She could imagine him lounging in his beat up chair in his office repeatedly tossing a ratty beanbag ball into the air. He was the reason she'd moved to Portland. Not long after her treatment had started, Julian had admitted that he'd accepted a rather cushy job offer from one of the top hospitals in the country. By then, Carly had instilled such trust in him not only as a doctor but as a friend that she'd not wanted to part so, when he'd left California to head North, she did too. "Hey."

"Where are you?" he asked, hearing the busy sounds of traffic in the background.

"On the way home from the park."

"Oh, that's nice. Listen, have you got some free time today? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Really?" Carly frowned and instinctively looked into the rearview mirror at her older son. Luckily, he was engrossed in a video game. "What?"

"Some treatment options. An old school friend from Yale is in town. He's been doing some very interesting things down at Johns Hopkins and I was discussing the elements of your case - he thinks he might be able to offer you another option."

"Are you serious?"

"What is it you Americans say... as a heart attack?"

"That's great!" Carly said, as she turned off at the stoplights and proceeded down the long road that eventually led to her gated community.

"So, have you got that free time?"

Carly looked up in the rearview mirror again. Morgan was slumped in his booster seat and Michael's head now lolled against the headrest in the backseat. They'd eaten in the park and the heat had liquefied their bones and they wallowed in lassitude. Once she got them home and Leticia set them in bed, they would be out for at least two to three hours. "Yes. Where?"

Julian rattled off the address of a bar in town and Carly promised to meet them there at in an hour and half for a drink. She signed off from the call just as she swung through the neighbourhood gates and, two minutes later, into her driveway.

Hearing the car, Leticia opened the door and stepped into the sunlight. Her eyes were red but she managed a seemingly good-natured smile as she opened the back door of the SUV. She unbuckled Michael from his seatbelt and gently lifted him from his side. He moaned a little and maintained a death-grip on his videogame but he didn't wake. On the other side, Carly did the same for Morgan, who didn't even stir. Quickly, both women took the boys into the air-conditioned cool of the house and up the stairs into their bedroom. They stripped off their shoes and socks, pulled the light sheets over them and quietly shut the door behind them.

Now that the two adults were alone, Carly was sure Leticia would want the answers to the questions she couldn't bear to ask that morning. She wasn't sure she was up to the task. Just telling the younger woman had been emotionally taxing.

At the foot of the stairs, Leticia caught Carly's arm. When she turned to face her employee, Carly was surprised to see anger coupled with the despair in the other woman's eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me? I mean, if you hadn't had some semi-breakdown this morning, would you have said something? Or was I going to walk into your bedroom one morning and find you dead?"

Carly looked away at the hurt in Leticia's voice and tried to fuel her guilt into anger. "It's none of your damned business!"

"I have worked for you for ten years, Mrs. Corinthos. I have seen you become a shadow of yourself; I have seen you push away everyone that loves you, including your children. I held this family together, I kept your children sane! So, don't you dare tell me it's none of my damned business when I'm the one who's going to have to pick up after you're gone!"

Carly was shocked at Leticia's outburst. Leticia was too. Her hand was lifted to her mouth and her eyes wide with surprise. Carly took a deep breath. "You're right..."

"No, I was out of line," Leticia hastened to apologise. "I shouldn't speak to you like that, especially now..."

"I'm not dead yet, and I deserved it." She heaved a sigh and raked her hand through her chestnut hair. "I can't give you an answer to that question, Leticia." She met the other woman's eyes. "I'm so used to keeping everything inside... so used to having someone take care of me... if it wasn't my stepfather, it was," she paused and took a breath before saying his name, "Sonny, now you and Julian, my doctor. I couldn't say anything."

They had wandered over to the sofa and they sat on opposite sides.

"Do you ever think about him?" Leticia asked softly, hesitantly. "Mr. Corinthos, I mean."

Yes, Carly nodded her head. "More now especially."

"Are you going to tell him?" Leticia knew he would find out sooner or later - it was just a matter of who would do the telling that was important.

"I don't want to. But I have to, I know that." Carly's dark eyes misted with tears. "If I tell him, it's all over - he'll want me to go back to Port Charles, he'll... smother me. I don't think I can handle that."

"He loves you," Leticia pointed out in Sonny's defence.

"I know," Carly whispered.

"What about you? Do you love him?" she asked the question tentatively, knowing that that particular question was why they were constantly moving from place to place.

Carly looked away. "I don't know, Leticia," she finally whispered in reply, "I just don't know anything anymore."

TBC...

A/N: Another long chapter. I hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to drop me a line or two.