Author's Note: Sorry I've been away so long. I got so busy that I didn't have the time to write the chapters (I don't pre-write an entire fiction before posting). That, and I'm trying to write chapters for about six other stories as well. Hopefully, there should be quite a few chapters up under my penname by the end of the week. Hope you guys enjoy this one.

Author's Note2: Re-posted due to minor errors in grammar and spelling.

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"What are you going to do to him?" Toby asked.

Jareth looked up from where he was gazing at the body on the floor and shrugged. "Burn him," he said, "Unless Gildred has other plans."

The mortal sighed and shook his head. "Not Madigh," he protested, "Luke. What are you going to do to Luke?"

Luke. Jareth took that as a very bad sign. Toby was back to calling his former lover by that ridiculous human name. It implied romance, it implied sympathy, it implied a closeness that might- conceivably- extend beyond just the bedroom. And yet the Goblin King knew for a fact that Toby had had no idea about this. It still puzzled him as to why Madigh would attempt something so obviously doomed to failure. As it stood, Jareth did not want to waste thinking time of Toby.

"Jareth, please. I know this looks bad for him but you have to understand that he does stupid things sometimes. I know he has to be punished, but not with death. Exile him if you must, but at least let him live."

"Exile him? Where exactly am I to exile him to?" the fae demanded, "Gildred is as likely to want his head as I am. Exiling him is out of the question."

"Does it even matter where he goes? Let Luka find his own place to stay. It will be punishment enough to ruin his life so completely."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. Toby was certainly learning manipulation. It was a good try, but Jareth was so used to pulling these tricks himself that he saw right through the smokescreen of words. "Hardly. Ten people are dead. My hall is in shambles. My potential peace with Gildred is on very shaky ground. And you think that a life of wandering will be enough of a punishment? For the planning of this fiasco Luka should die under law, let alone having carried it out."

The Goblin King stopped as he heard the steady tramp of feet, restraining himself from saying anything more. The conversation could wait. He had a few people in custody that he wanted a chance to interview. Gildred would have got to his assassins first, though, so Jareth had no real expectation of seeing any of them lucid or even alive by the end of the day. Which left him with Luka. Luka was the only one Jareth had reserved for himself. Mostly because it rankled him that this attack had almost slipped under his awareness.

The goblins entered, grim-faced and carrying a stretcher between them. Without a word, they hefted up the body of Gildred's lieutenant and carried it back out again.

Toby wondered if the blood would come out of the carpet. The stuff on the floor had already congealed, but stone washed easily. The carpet was another matter and the threads were stiff with blood. "I am not saying that he should not be punished. But try not to hurt him deliberately."

This was certainly a change. At the start of all this Toby Williams had refused to forgive the stealing of a few fairly valuable baubles. Just some jewellery here or there; just a gold ornament or two. Now? Jareth was watching him willingly forget that people had died because of that fae. It was too much of a change. Jareth didn't like this change.

"I know what he did was so very wrong." Toby didn't see those tightened lines softening an inch. It anything, Jareth looked even more implacably decisive than he had previously. No encouraging sign of hope in that sharp-featured face. "I have not forgotten what this mess costs you. But killing him is a little extreme."

Jareth said nothing. He simply turned away with no intention of allowing such an affecting performance to sway him. "Go to your room and lie down. You sound hysterical," came the mocking answer.

Toby gave up. He had not expected to change Jareth's mind, and it was clear from the stiff set of those broad shoulders that Jareth already had plans in his head. He walked with purpose. He wasn't listening to anyone else. His eyes didn't even see anyone else. And this time the axe would fall- Jareth was fully capable of putting someone through hell for this mix up.

The Goblin King wasn't of quite the same opinion. He was angry, yes, and ruthlessly determined to sacrifice whoever he needed to in order to make things right again, but he wasn't looking for a scapegoat. There were certain points that made no sense to him, that were hard to fit in properly with the general set of the puzzle. So he went to his one bargaining chip.

Luka was in a holding cell at the top of the Castle. These were different from Merilin's prison, being bare, sparse and completely designed to depress any person thrown in. Like oubliettes, the general purpose of a holding cell was to let someone stew in their own insecurities and doubts for as long as the King liked. In a few reigns, skeletons were discovered in the holding cells.

Luka was brought to an interrogation room and respectfully offered a chair at the table. A lot of the goblins remembered him. A lot of the guards keeping the cells had known Luka's father, King Hayle. It was all quite cosy until the Goblin King strode in, all black leather jacket and glittering eyes.

"Stand," he said simply.

Luka stood.

Jareth jerked his head at the fae and the guard instantly patted him down, looking for any concealed weapon. It was just a trick annoyance; Jareth didn't believe Luka had any weapons left that he would not have used to escape. Luka was annoyed. And a little offended. But that was okay. The more defensive he was, the better Jareth's prodding would work. Any little goblin child could have candidly told anyone who cared to listen that consistent prodding with a finger on a soft part of the body- usually the arm or the nose- would have the desired result of making the prodded person scream in a fury and capitulate in frustration. Jareth had always thought children were the cleverest torturers, even the goblin children.

So he prodded. "Sit down. Drink? No? I would have thought all the excitement would make you thirsty. Well, I would like a drink. Excuse me."

He left again.

Luka fumed in the room for exactly two minutes after which Jareth wandered back in again, looking thoroughly preoccupied with something else entirely. "Right," he said sitting down, "What was I going to say?"

Luka raised an eyebrow but bit his tongue to stay silent.

"My lamentable memory," Jareth mourned, tapping his head, "It just slips away. I could swear it was on the tip of my tongue to ask you something… oh yes! Oh, no. I left the letter in my study. Excuse me."

Now the Goblin King, to all intents and purposes, is perfectly within his rights to summon a servant or guard and have the entire Castle roused to the simple act of getting him a piece of paper from his study four floors down. Or, if he was the kind of person who did things himself, he could apparate from the room and be back in two blinks of Luka's brown eyes. Jareth being Jareth and a breed unto himself, he got up from the table and walked out the door once again. It would take him ten minutes at a good pace.

Luka's nerves tightened another notch and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Never mind the letter," Jareth growled, slamming back into the room, "Tell me why you involved Merilin in your plans."

Luka was taken off guard. Blinking as he looked up into that urgent face, he said plainly, "He was an easily manipulated person who could create trouble."

"Good! Now we seem to be getting somewhere." Jareth gave a Cheshire cat grin and took a casual stance just a distance away.

Luka flushed as he realized he had been tricked and obstinately blanked everything from his mind. It wouldn't do, he told himself, if he were to be cooperative. The Goblin King asked his questions, Luka twisted them around to smoke and mirrors, and the words went back and forth. Jareth had the advantage of cutting through the rubbish to the core, but Luka was far more subtle. The Goblin King affected complete personality changes. Luka just slyly tweaked his way of thinking.

How things might have ended was anyone's guess. Unfortunately, as with all situations in life, they did not have the time to match wits at their leisure. Gildred had finished with his assassins and he walked in, grey eyes so furious Jareth instantly readied himself for the disagreeable task of protecting someone he wouldn't mind seeing dead.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, hands clasped behind his back, chin still lifted in haughty nonchalance.

"One of my assassins confessed."

Luka laughed quietly to himself but was polite enough to smother it with the back of his hand.

Jareth ignored it. "How many are left?"

Gildred counted mentally before reciting the list- "Fifty came in total. More than sufficient to obliterate you and most other important people in the Castle. Dervina marshalled your guards and they took thirty. Twenty-three of those were killed outright, six were injured and one surrendered. Braan and four other of my retinue handled the higher assassins. They are all dead. The Lady Pandora killed Madigh and this… disease sitting before us is the only other one left."

"We were attacked by fifty plus two, we killed forty-three plus one and we have seven in the cells. How many have you spoken to?"

Luka laughed harder, this time rudely lowering his hand. Gildred hit him in the face as a matter of course, got him out of the chair and kicked him. Luka coughed and lay still on the floor. He wasn't laughing any more but the blank look of noncooperation was just as effective at giving his point of view.

Jareth waited until it was over and then silently tapped the Outlands King on his shoulder. He shook his head expressively and got down on one knee beside their captive. "What," he questioned mildly, "Was so very amusing."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but your sudden habit of asking questions. Not quite fitting with the image I always saw."

"That was funny?"

Luka didn't answer directly. "I can answer your questions for you. His Majesty King Gildred would have interviewed his most junior assassin first. He would have walked in and assaulted the assassin before saying a thing. And then he would have demanded the whole story. The minute he received it, he would have gone to the cell holding the only one to surrender and he would have killed him or her in a fit of violent disgust for that surrender alone."

Jareth was impressed. Luka certainly had an accurate reading on Gildred. Of course, it was understandable. Jareth put himself in Gildred's place and the burning shame of his infamous warrior surrendering was understandably worse than just a rogue soldier. Gildred would exact terrible revenge either way, but he had no respect for those he saw as cowards.

Which presented a large problem. Luka was capable of being a coward. Gildred would not wait to ask permission before snapping his neck.

"My Lord, if you could give me a time alone with my subject?"

"He is no longer in your power, Jareth. He had removed himself to outlaw status. Therefore," Gildred landed another kick, "Therefore he is mine."

"I have not exiled him yet," Jareth warned, "And he has no say in that matter. Besides which, he knows what to say to make you give him the reaction he wants. He will not find it as easy with me."

Luka giggled, though it was brief and painful.

"He knows you too, surely. You were getting nowhere with him a few minutes ago."

Jareth gave no answer but his unpleasant smile was telling. With no effort at all, he gave in to whatever persona it was that Luka expected from him. "You may have your turn after me," he purred. Long fingers caressed one smooth cheek before angry nails scoured four crimson lines in the flesh.

Gildred effectively stopped in surprise. The Goblin King had never struck him as the type to enjoy violence. Ruthless, yes; sadistic, no. Ye he knew a faux pas when he saw one and intruding on the Goblin King's territory was a very big one. He left.

For the briefest moment, wariness replaced the indifferent determination.

Jareth got off the floor and wandered to the nearest wall. He watched those eyes watch soft-hard fingers trailing on silken-skinned stone, circling the room in challenge. Those eyes never left him as far as was possible. That in itself cued him further. "To think you did all that," he mocked, "Only to get caught in the end? Careless, Luka, very careless. Or was this Madigh's idea?"

Luka didn't react. Instead he ignored it with relative ease, getting up and picking up his chair. He sat back on it with a sigh.

"My mother killed him," Jareth switched, "Did they tell you? It seems she learned to shoot from my father. A family trait, it would seem. All three of her children had varying degrees of success with swords but our aim was spectacular. I wonder if I still have remarkable accuracy."

Luka went stiff. The threat was too gleeful, too openly stated. He would have been a fool not to see it. His nerves jumped when stone cooled fingers circled the nape of his neck.

"I might aim for the neck. It would stifle any scream." The fingers went down to the chest. "Or the heart." To the stomach. "Or here." Lower still with a mockery of gentleness. "Or here. You could bleed to death from here."

Luka snorted and refused to react. But he had already given himself away.

"Not there?" Jareth breathed, "I agree it would be a shame. Toby would miss that sweet appendage quite a lot."

Luka grit his teeth and then forced his jaw to relax. He could wait out the teasing and the mocking. He just had to concentrate.

The fingers left as suddenly as they had arrived. Jareth took a seat across the table, pulling on his gloves without a smile as he shifted effortlessly into the next personality. "Explain all this," he demanded, "Why spend an afternoon with Toby before attacking the Castle?"

Luka didn't like that question. "Would you rather not know why I attacked at all?"

"Of course not! I know about your planning and I know perfectly well that you knew it too. You set Merilin up splendidly for the amusement it afforded you, and for revenge when he betrayed you. You also knew for a fact that Madigh would get nowhere near Jervohl."

"You seem to know a lot."

Jareth shrugged. "You only formed the plan of attack when Madigh informed you that he had wounded my ward in his attempt to escape. You expected to be caught."

Luka leaned forward, uneven hair over one shoulder. "How sure are you," he asked seriously.

"The thing to note, Luka, is that I not only react as people need me to, but I react as other people might. For the Council, I am decisive and derisive. For an ally I am charming and persuasive. For Toby, I become either practical or provoking. He responds to reasoning far better, but a little goading works faster in certain situations."

"You are a bastard," came a seething remark. No respect, no grudging fear. Luka quite simply hated him.

Jareth made a note of it and angled his behaviour accordingly. The trick was not to realize that he was even responding. But Luka wanted to see the villain in him so badly that Jareth's very nature provided it instantly.

"I could do worse," the Goblin King pointed out, "I could lie to him. We know how he hates lies, however, so I am not quite willing to… but wait! I did lie to him. I had not told him that you were the one to meet Merilin. Oh, dear! Oh, well, it can do no lasting harm. I could just tell him it was for his own good."

"For his good?" Luka was tired. Very tired. Giving up was unthinkable, but getting upset was stupid. "He is not gullible."

"Yes, but he trusts me. I would never lie to him, you see." It was the most delicious irony. Jareth savoured it even as he knew it would leave a bitter taste in his captive's mouth.

"So he did not know." It made more sense, now, to Luka. Toby had been so easily pacified that afternoon. Of course, he had also come from nowhere to kill Luka's main informant, but he had been oddly eager to listen to his former boyfriend. Luka had not mentioned the meeting with Meriling from sheer self-defence. He didn't want to jeopardize what had gone so well.

"No. If I had told him, he would be upset with me for lying, and then he would see clearly that the only person to blame is you. You set up the meeting, you set up the attempted assassination and you got him back."

"An old trick, Jareth. I will not fall for it." Luka put his head down on his arms and steadfastly refused to listen to such nonsense.

Jareth dropped the guise and fell into another. "You lost the plan," he guessed.

"I have nothing further to say to you."

The Goblin King considered that. The previous two personas had worked well but their uses were over. Luka would not respond to that any more. He tried once again, just to check, watching for some kind of response that he could exploit. "Toby calls you perceptive. He is an intelligent man, Toby Williams. Is that what set all this drama in motion? To save him from my wicked wiles?"

"You could not be more wrong. Toby is no reason to kill."

"Then I suppose you just want me dead."

"I have nothing more to say to you."

Jareth nodded and let him be. Luka didn't often stand on pride. The younger fae had a remarkable capacity for laughing at himself. He did not hesitate to be a coward when he was afraid. He did not hesitate to ask or even beg for whatever he wanted, or needed. Luka had his limits, though, and he would not talk before he was ready. So Jareth left. Gildred had vanished to sort out the remainder of his assassins and no one really expected the six injured people to try to recover. If they did, they would only be beheaded.

The Goblin King spent the rest of the day dealing with his Council members and arranging funerals for his dead soldiers. Too many of his soldiers were dead. The Goblin City was in an uproar and already there were murmurs against the Outlands.

Gonzo wrote up a suitably heartening message of reassurance and had it tacked up to the door of the biggest bar in the City. Copies were also pinned to the City gates, to the Castle door and the doors of frequently visited public establishments.

Pandora and Eloise were out, meeting the families of the dead and the injured on the Goblin King's behalf. The Lady had insisted. She had lost a husband and son to skirmishes with the outlaws and she was known and respected. Jareth would have said a few bland words of vague courage and been thoroughly frustrated with the situation. Charming, of course, but short tempered. He was happy to let her do it for him.

Toby helped Yava put the Castle back to order. Not an easy task, for the bodies needed to be moved to the mortuary at the barracks and identified. Blood and body bits needed to be scrubbed off the floor and walls, carpets rolled up and taken to the backyard for a thorough washing. At one point the mortal found himself on hands and knees, working on the horrendous mess in the entranceway. After thirty hostile assassins had tramped into a wall of soldiers, the place was a massacre site. And then the kitchens needed to be started up again and the everyday running of the household begun. The goblins were understandably shaken and they had to be coaxed and cajoled into not losing their heads.

For the most part Toby was too busy to think about Gildred attacking him or Jareth suspecting his loyalty. He repeated himself patiently as a matter of course and let Yava deal with the mundane things like laundry and cooking and hysterical servants that threw their mops down and burst into wild yelling. He didn't have the time to brood on things.

But he did think of Luke. He feared for his boyfriend's safety- and to some measure his sanity- and fretted that he shouldn't care that a traitor was being questioned. It was all that business of being more open to life. Emotions always compromised reason. Toby couldn't wait to blame Jareth for this. He couldn't really see that Jareth was to blame for anything that might befall Luka in custody though. They would not reach an agreement between them. How could they? Luke despised Jareth and the Goblin King had almost been killed by the fae. He didn't take kindly to being a marked male. What deal could they possibly make to sort this out?

He had the armour and weapons taken back to the armoury and took the opportunity to help clean them. It gave his hands something to do while he took the time to think more clearly.

Luka had certainly brought all the trouble on himself. Toby didn't deny that. But he had spoken to the fae, had heard his excuses, and even if he didn't believe a word out of Luka's pretty mouth a part of him still didn't want to think that his lover could be a monster.

But Luka wasn't his lover any more, was he? No, that had ended a little less than a year ago. Still, Toby missed him. He hadn't realized how much until he saw him again. He missed not hearing a word of light chatter and being the stodgy one. He missed taking care of Luka. Toby needed to feel of some use, to have a purpose. His whole life was based around other people and he felt safest when he could be the silent support to someone else. And now he couldn't. Because they had done things over the past year that had changed them both. Luka didn't need someone to care for him any more; he needed a miracle!

"Sir? Sir?" Yava was so harried she tugged on his sleeve. "Will you come with me, please?"

Toby didn't even wait to ask why. He just got up and followed her out. There was no time for questions and reasoning. Things just had to be done, orders had to be followed. On the way he noted that the elves were deep in a serious discussion in one of the rooms. A harried secretary came scurrying out just as he passed the door. The brief moment caught Merilin's eye and the cool appraisal made Toby feel even more tired of the confusion. Whatever had been left of his ordered existence was now temporarily torn apart. He didn't see it, or himself, returning any time soon.

Jareth was waiting for him in a small sitting room close by, moodily drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. He looked up when the door opened and beckoned the silent man in. "Sit down. Water?"

"Thank you." Toby took the glass and drained it.

Jareth filled it again without needing to ask. "You look heated. Do they have you chopping wood again?"

"No. Cleaning weapons. And I elected to do it. Someone has to," Toby added.

"Yes," his guardian agreed. Dual-coloured eyes looked suspiciously at the door for a moment and then turned back to Toby. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I am fine."

"You spent an afternoon with Luka after hearing of his plans and killing his informant. You did not rush back here to raise the alarm. Why? You refused to defend yourself against Gildred. He would have killed you and I would not have stopped him. Once again, why?"

"I have no answer."

Jareth waited but this time Toby refused to be intimidated into saying the first words in his head. The Goblin King sighed and got up. He tugged on the bellpull by the door and waited. Toby rose too, fully expecting to be sent back to the next job awaiting him somewhere in the Castle. Probably it would be chopping wood, too! The assassins' bodies would be burned instead of buried, as was the usual mark of respect for the dead in the Underground. However, when Ezreeka arrived, Jareth asked that food be brought for the both of them.

"We can do with a rest," the fae remarked, showing every ounce of the tiredness he felt. Operating on physical, magical and managerial levels simultaneously could make anyone exhausted. And Jareth's stamina had run its course. So the Goblin King sat down on the long couch and Toby sat down beside him. It seemed perfectly natural to the both of them to have Jareth lie down with his head in Toby's lap, murmuring nothing in particular as the mortal eased the tension hammering in his temples with a gentle hand. It seemed very natural.

When Ezreeka returned, Toby got the tray and pulled up a table. It was a very simple meal and neither of them used formal manners as they picked at it. Eventually, Toby got out from under Jareth and sat on the floor instead, resting his back against the couch as he reached for the wine apple lying conspicuously in the corner of the tray. Jareth didn't bother shifting.

They didn't say anything. They preferred the silence. Words were usually misinterpreted and neither wanted to argue. Not really, at any rate. They might lash out to relieve a little stress, but angry words between the two of them would be an argument. They didn't want to argue.

Jareth absently played with the grown-out strands of golden hair that curled at the back of Toby's neck. It really did remind him of Karen. It was the exact shade. He said so, not expecting a reply. Until it occurred to him that the End-of-Year Ball was almost upon them and, traditionally speaking, families exchanged gifts. Toby was soon to be family.

"I should write those adoption papers out," he said aloud, "Her Ladyship wants them signed before the Ball."

"It seems strange," Toby replied, "And wholly impossible."

"You are my mother's son as surely as I am."

"Only by chance. If my parents were alive I would live Aboveground. I would have finished school, gone to college and gotten a job. Somewhere along the way I would have met someone I was attracted to and made love to him. Maybe even loved him completely."

"It's not so different down here," Jareth said gently, "We all have a job. Everyone spends their lives growing from child to adult. The measure of an adult is to take his or her responsible place in society. And we all eventually find someone we are attracted to and we make love to them. Maybe even fall in love with them. It is the way of every single thinking race in existence. It has to be. There can be no other way."

"It feels pointless."

"Falling in love or getting a job?"

"Both."

"I think you should go out. Take Serenity out of her stall. She needs a good, long ride. Trust me, flying far above the reach of everyday life can put a lot of things in perspective."

Toby turned that over in his head. 'Trust me'. He had no reason to trust Jareth. Only, Jareth had an uncanny ability to see things from so many perspectives that he was undoubtedly right… again. And flying as far away as he could get for a while would be a good way to escape the cloying smell of soap and grease. Get away from harried servants and worried politicians and furious patriots. Even away from Jervohl and the way she automatically drifted to Gildred's side with no conscious thought. Get away from the looming question of 'what now'. "Have you spoken to Luke yet?"

Jareth sat up. "I have."

"May I?"

"What have you to say to him?"

Toby frowned. "That is private," he rebuked, "I am not going to tell you."

Jareth sighed and lifted a hand to his medallion. "Toby, Luka is not the person you want to spend the rest of your life regretting. And he will make you regret it if you persist in lying to yourself that he is something you need. Let him go. He will do you no good."

"When have emotions ever been subject to sense?" Toby challenged, "No one ever chooses someone to love. They just do."

"This is exactly what I have been trying to show you," Jareth exclaimed, his voice rising, "You cannot separate your emotions from your bloody reason, but you can bloody well stop giving in to them! All it requires is for you to balance the two! Is it so hard?"

"Stop shouting!" Toby made the considerable effort of lowering his voice. "Look, all I asked is to see my former lover. I just want an answer."

"Should it matter what I say?"

"Yeah. You are the King of the Goblins and Luka is your prisoner. You will not let just anyone see him without your permission?"

"Toby, if Luka had a wife, I would have let her see him. If he had had anyone in the world that desired to see him, I would allow it. Why? Because all he does in his cell right now is drive himself insane with his own thoughts. He is in solitary confinement, he is in a cheerless room with nothing to occupy his attention and he has just headed a massive failure of a plan that has placed him in the unenviable position of certainly being sentenced to execution. An insane prisoner is not going to make my job easier because he will combat that insanity in two ways- he will either be repentant, or he will be defiant. If he is repentant, I appear a monster. If he is defiant, he does. Do you see my point?"

"No."

Jareth stretched first. "Sending you in will make him predisposed to end this fiasco. He will talk, or he will not. But he will end it. And why? Because just now you look as though a horse has kicked you in the midsection and he will feel sorry for himself for hurting you and he will want it over with."

Toby tried to find his way through the twisting logic and gave up. "So I may see him?" he settled on.

"No." Jareth stared at the ceiling and ignored Toby for just a little while. When Toby eventually stopped exclaiming at the injustice of it all, he said, "I don't want you anywhere near there."

"Why not? You just said I could be of some help. You said I could make him end this."

"You could. But your reputation will suffer by relation and I cannot have my ward's honour questioned."

"Stuff my honour," Toby said bracingly, "I don't care for it."

Jareth smiled to himself and thought how different it was to the way Toby had behaved before. Before, Toby would have been scandalized, would have asked to see Luka, but only in order to ask him why he had committed this terrible crime. Now, Toby only wanted to see him again, just to make sure he was all right. And he didn't care what anyone else thought of him for doing it. The year had had effect, then. Jareth was glad.

"Jareth, please?"

This time the Goblin King looked back down from the ceiling in surprise, not certain that he had heard right. But Toby was honestly petitioning him in earnest for the right to see his former lover. "I cannot stop you," was all the fae allowed himself to say.

Toby took it as a positive answer and went instantly.

Jareth conjured up the crystal and watched only until the door of the holding cell was opened and Toby went in. He watched a little bit longer to see the way that large hand took a careful hold of Luka's pointed chin to better get a look at the four parallel scratches on his cheek, and the way that Luka favoured the bruises where Gildred had kicked him. Then he banished the crystal and got back to work.