A high-pitched shrieking of some sort rattles obnoxiously against her eardrum and her body instinctively jumps off the warm mattress in search of the sound, ignoring her pounding temples and inability to actually open her eyes. That's when she realizes she's falling, and she's fucked.
"Oooooof," she groans involuntarily as her bare back smacks brutally against the ice-cold wooden floor.
Her eyes tightly squeeze together as the shooting pain disperses violently against her spine all while that damn shrieking still rings loudly through the room. She scrambles quickly to her knees and finally pries open her eyes, squinting terribly against the warm morning sun beating through the windows.
Her very naked breasts press into the mattress as her hands drag against the cool white linen in search for her phone that insists on screaming just to agitate her deadly hangover. She lifts the thin sheet and locates her phone lighting up against a smooth pale back. The long-exposed flesh is still rhythmically rising and falling at a slow and steady pace, informing her that her one-night stand is still very much asleep.
Her nose crinkles out of fear of being caught as she slowly reaches out and snatches her phone back. She quickly answers the call to ensure that the person won't call back immediately. She pulls away from the bed and abruptly jumps to her feet, cradling the phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she rummages the hardwood floor for her discarded clothes from the previous night.
"Hello? Hold on one sec," she whispers into the phone as she gathers her sundress and flimsy flip flops, wincing at the hoarseness disrupting her voice.
She glances over her shoulder to find the messy blonde bun still firmly pressed into the pillow, drawing out a slow and deep exhale from her lips. The sheet is barely clinging to the woman's prominent hip bone, covering up her cute little bottom. Her spine is slowly making itself known with every breath she takes.
Thank god she's still asleep.
"Why are you whispering? What is going on over there? Are you behaving or am I going to have to drag you back home?" Her father's stern voice interrupts her trance that's so fixated on the cute blonde still miraculously asleep.
She smiles one last time in Tink's direction before she slips out of her bedroom and softly closes the door behind her. Now that she's completely sober, she's fairly certain that woman faked named her. Honestly, what the hell kind of name is Tink anyhow?
"I'm fine dad," she insists as she slips her legs back into her dress and wiggles her body hazardously until she's fully dressed. "Why are you calling so early?" She demands as she tosses her sandals onto the floor and slides her feet into position.
From the other side of the door, she hears a groan informing her that the blonde is beginning to wake up causing her eyes to double in size as her feet instinctively scurry toward the front door. She knows her father is on one of his rants in her ear, but all she can comprehend is the pounding of blood in her ears from the fear of being caught sneaking out at six o'clock in the morning.
Her hand slowly reaches out for the doorknob and at a snail like pace, she opens the door just far enough for her slim frame to slip out. She softly closes the front door, jumps off the deck and runs as fast as her lazy feet can carry her.
"Dammit Emma, answer me!"
"What?" She snaps back, fully annoyed from her nosy father and his insistent ways while she's practically dying from a hangover.
Her temples are beating harder than any drum in a rock band and her mouth tastes as though she inhaled a dumpster truck last night. Her heart is racing faster than her feet, in a marathon to her first heart attack. She can smell the alcohol seeping through her pours along with sweat and sex from her one-night stand and she can only assume what her hair looks like right now. Instantly, her hand reaches out to force her unruly waves back down, even though she knows there is no taming those locks after the wild sex she encountered last night.
"Emma, I don't feel comfortable with this trip, will you please come home now?" Her dad tenderly requests once again, persuading a heavy sigh to escape her lips as she slows down her pace.
She glances up through her thick eyelashes and stares out into the ocean. She kicks off her flip flops and bends down to pick them up with her free hand. She steps cautiously over the thick ropes and allows her feet to sink into the sand, still cool from the night.
"Dad, it's only been two weeks since I left. I told you this is something I need to do," she explains for what feels like the millionth time since she left home. "I mean it, I'm staying for the entire summer."
Her feet absorb the tiny sand particles as she drags them lazily across the beach, memorizing the comforting texture. The tranquil sounds of the waves crashing against the shore is enough to wash away all her stress. Her shoulders slump as she exhales slowly and finally relaxes for the first time since she was rudely awoken fifteen minutes ago.
Her father's frustrated sigh resonates loudly through the line and despite their many miles apart, she feels as though he's right there with her.
"Neal stopped by," he announces with a hint of hope perking up his depressing tone.
"Why?" She deadpans and furrows her eyebrows as she approaches the shoreline.
"He misses you, Emma. You two have been together since you were sixteen," her father softly speaks, and she knows it's to keep her from lashing out irrationally.
"Correction, we were together. Both of you should probably come to terms with this by now. We are no longer together," she scoffs as she drops to her bottom, molding her ass into the sand below.
She pulls her knees to her chest and buries her toes into the wet sand. She drops her sandals next to her and watches intently as the waves roll in. The white caps slowly riding the top of the lazy wave, the ocean still calm from the night. The warm sun is just hovering above the horizon, the rays kissing her face gently and sending a rush of heat to warm up her tired limbs.
"I don't see why you just didn't take him along on the trip," her dad replies with his annoyance lacing each word, further agitating her.
"I told you why. I needed time and space. I needed to see the world and explore my freedom before I settle down. I-I don't want to..." she pauses and swallows hard to clear the lump slowly building in the back of her throat. Her vision immediately blurs as thick tears fill her eyes, but she fights them back while she finds a stick nearby and distracts herself with drawing random patterns into the sand. "I'm done explaining myself, dad. Either you get it or you don't, but I'm done trying to convince you this is the right choice for me."
"I understand, Emma. I do...I'm sorry, I shouldn't be relying on you so much. You're twenty-four years old, you should experience life while you are young and free."
She smiles in response even though he can't see her face through the phone while her hand drags the stick against the wet sand as another wave creeps toward her feet. The water tickles her toes as it pulls back and sweeps away some of the sand beneath her feet.
"Just please tell me you are safe," her father pleads when the silence has finally stretched on too far.
Her hand releases the stick before her arms wrap around her knees and she drops her chin to her forearm and sharply inhales the salty morning air.
"I promise I'm safe. I'm in Greece right now, but I think I'm leaving later this morning to Sicily," she reiterates her schedule, yet again.
Even though she cannot see her father's face, she can hear the smile breaking across his lips. "How was Greece? Your mother and I always wanted to go."
Her chest tightens, but she ignores the unwanted pain and buries her face into her lap. "It's beautiful," she admits and allows her eyes to flutter closed.
"I'm proud of you, Emma," he whispers into the phone, sending a warm tingle to fill her broken heart, mending all those cracked pieces back together...for now.
"I love you dad, but I really need to get a move on if I'm going to make that ferry."
"Alright. Stay safe and have fun. I love you, Ems."
"I'll talk to you soon. Bye."
Her dad mutters his goodbye as well before she hangs up the phone. A warm gentle breeze blows around her and she swears it wraps around her body like an old familiar hug. Her throat tightens and those damn tears are back again because she knows she can feel her. She's whispering into the wind that everything is going to be just fine, but more importantly, she's there, with her.
She closes her eyes once more and allows the presence to engulf her in a loving hug. When the wind finally dies down and her messy locks stop blowing, she pushes herself up and begins walking back to her hotel room.
XXXXXXXXX
"What do you mean?" She whines as she stands in front of the ticket booth, glancing at the rather small ferry rocking slowly against the dock. "There's absolutely no ferries from here to Sicily?"
"Like I said, if you want to go to Sicily, you have to take this ferry to Italy and then another one from Italy to Sicily."
"Ugh," she groans and stomps her foot against the wooden planks below like a toddler. "Dammit!"
With every purchase she makes on this spontaneous trip, she has to be well aware of her money. She only has so much, and she really needs it to last as long as possible, she already knows sometime during this vacation she will need to find a part time job to continue until the middle of August. So, having to purchase two ferry tickets instead of one does not bode well for her right now.
"Excuse me," a sweet, familiar voice murmurs behind her shoulder, stirring an unsettling sensation in her chest. She quickly whips around and instantly panics when she discovers Tink lingering behind her. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she chuckles softly with a shy smile gracing her lips.
Emma swallows her anxious nerves because she truly thought she'd never have to see this woman again. "Tink," she screeches in a tone that expresses just how uncomfortable she is. Her cheeks flush from embarrassment and she tries desperately to maintain eye contact so she doesn't further embarrass herself. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to say goodbye...you did tell me you were leaving to Sicily this afternoon. Besides, you snuck off rather early this morning," the girl calls her out without a moment for Emma to even breathe through her initial shock of just her presence alone.
"I...well...yes, um..." she fumbles through her words to her own mortification and scrapes the back of her mind for some coherent sentence.
"Relax," Tink drawls through her thick Australian accent that does more to Emma's body than she cares to admit. "I'm just teasing, you look like a runner anyways, especially after you confessed it was your first time with a woman right before...well you know," she smirks proudly as a burst of heat surges through Emma's chest, up her neck, paints her cheeks and burns the very tips of her ears.
Green eyes shift nervously around to make sure nobody heard the carefree admission and of course there are a few strangers gawking with amusement dancing in their eyes. She clears her throat and tries her very best to seem unaffected even though she's sure her body is about to burst into flames from this uncomfortable heat.
"I just needed to go back to my hotel and pack so I could make this ferry." She nods her head toward the end of the dock and watches as Tink's stunning blue eyes drift in the direction of the ferry.
The woman smirks and breathes out a small laugh through her nose. "You mean the ferry that's already leaving?" Her blue irises dance mischievously as she nods her head toward the end of the dock.
Emma's head snaps to its own accord to find that her ride is in fact leaving without her. "No!" She whines again and drops her duffel bag to the dock below. "This is just my luck! Why am I jinxed?" Her head falls back just staring aimlessly at the blue sky above, hoping to keep any tears from springing to life and further embarrassing her.
Suddenly she feels a soft caress against her bicep. "Hey, don't worry." The gentle hand sweeps up her arm and squeezes with purpose. "I know a guy."
"You know a guy," she breathes out, but keeps her eyes strained to the endless blue above.
"Yeah, he's a bit annoying and comes on too strong, but I promise he's a nice guy and he will take you to Sicily."
"Just like that?" She questions suspiciously, her head slowly falling to meet the woman's concerned gaze.
"I mean you'll probably owe him a blowy, but.." Emma's face instantly scrunches painfully in distaste. "I'm kidding!" Tink shrieks with a playful grin while her thumb strokes across Emma's heated flesh. "Come on, his boat is just on the other side of the dock."
Tink's hand falls from her arm as she spins around, barefoot, and begins leading Emma toward her friend. She reluctantly snatches her bag and hoists it over her shoulder as she stomps behind her one-night fling.
She doesn't normally sleep with random strangers, in fact she's only ever been with Neal, her high school sweetheart, since she was sixteen. Now she's twenty-four and can't help but feel like maybe she missed out on life. There was always a nagging, whispering thought in the back of her mind, wondering what it would feel like to be tangled up with a cute girl. So, last night when Tink approached her in some dive bar, she easily flirted back and followed the woman home like a lost puppy.
She never thought an adorable girl like Tink would ever give her the time of day, but the blonde offered her full attention, with those gorgeous blue eyes staring deeply into hers as she spoke, and Emma was putty in her hands. Especially that accent, the moment Tink mumbled her first word, a switch was flipped in Emma's head, turning on her arousal state to its max potential and forcing her thighs to clench painfully together.
Even though Emma found Tink utterly attractive, that's all the fling was, attraction. They both were searching for a good time, knowing they would both be leaving Greece the very next day. Tink was headed to New Zealand and Emma was deporting to her next destination on her bucket list, Sicily.
"So, are you okay?" Tink sheepishly questions when the silence has stretched on for far longer than socially appropriate.
They pad across the dock as the water crashes below them and Emma sighs heavily. "I'm just fine," she lies and hikes her bag higher upon her shoulder.
"Are you confused about last night? Being your first time and all?"
"No," she quickly blurts out because she's truthfully not. "I just wasn't expecting to see you again."
"No worries, I won't be stalking you or anything. I leave for New Zealand tonight," she casually explains as they approach a rather small looking boat.
Emma stops dead in her tracks and examines this rickety boat that's supposed to travel six hours in the ocean with her aboard. The small white boat bobs up and down with each motion of the ocean while the large white sails are flapping in the wind causing the ropes to slap against the poles.
"Killy!" Tink yells playfully to summon her friend as she steps onto the boat, except Emma's feet remain glued to the dock as she attempts to hold down her sundress that's blowing obnoxiously in the wind.
"Aye! Tink, is that you?" A man with an adorable British accent pops his head out from under his deck below.
Emma's first response is for her jaw to pop open from his obvious, handsome, good looks, but she refrains. His bright blue eyes sparkle, matching the ocean behind him. His jet-black hair contrasts beautifully against the thin white button down that's overly see through and barely clasped together. The moment he spots her standing awkwardly behind Tink, he flashes his most charming smile.
"Killian," Tink begins with a smug smirk, "This is my friend, Emma Swan. She needs a ride to Sicily, you think you can help her out?"
Killian climbs out from his hole and instantly engulfs the tiny blonde into a friendly hug. She squeezes him tight, showing off her affection for the man and quickly pecks his cheek. He sets Tink down gently and hooks an arm around her shoulders casually.
"This your friend, mate?" He questions through a wide goofy grin, his eyes scanning over Emma's body shamelessly causing her to squirm under his scrutiny and wishing she had chosen shorts instead of a flowing dress.
"Yup," Tink confirms and slaps her palm against his scruffy chest.
"She's cute. How friendly were you with her last night?" He asks teasingly, earning himself a sharp slap from the smaller woman. "Hey, I'm just teasing," he laughs as he rubs the inflicted area. He untangles himself from his friend and takes a few steps toward the edge of his boat. His hand pokes out toward Emma and he smiles kindly in her direction. "Killian Jones."
Her lips twist as she eyes the man suspiciously, deciding if she wants to trust not only him, but his shitty boat as well. She rolls her eyes at her own hesitation, because this is her vacation and she promised herself that she was going to live it up to the fullest. Her hand quickly jerks outward and accepts his gesture, shaking his hand firmly.
"Emma Swan."
"Nice to meet you, Emma." She quickly retracts her hand, but his palm is still open and waiting for something. "Your bag," he kindly requests, but she shakes her head, rejecting his offer.
"I got it," she confirms and carefully steps onto his boat, provoking Killian to take a step back.
"And this here is the Jolly Roger," he smiles proudly as he gestures around the boat.
Her lips press firmly together to keep her snarky comments at bay. She nods along, but she doesn't trust herself to open her mouth, knowing her luck, she'll say something stupid and be kicked to the curb before she even has a chance at her ride.
"Alright, well I should be heading back," Tink announces, her bare feet padding across the boat. She leans into Emma's personal space and quickly pecks her cheek. "Nice meeting you," she whispers seductively in her ear, instantly creating a blush from Emma's pale cheeks once again.
"You too," she croaks out before Tink hops off the boat and waves goodbye to Killian one last time. "So," Emma drags out the simple word and nervously hitches the bag higher upon her shoulder again.
"So," he smirks and spins around on his tiptoes. "Right this way, Swan, you can put your bag down here."
She gulps down all her trepidation about this awkward situation and takes a deep steady breath before she follows the stranger. She cautiously steps down the wooden stairs into a very tight area with only one bed and a door jammed into the corner.
"Bed," Killian blatantly points out. "Bathroom," he says as he points to the door, she knows she will have to squeeze through to fit inside. "My humble abode," he states happily. "Toss your bag next to the bed and make yourself at home while I set sail."
"Okay," she whispers as he begins climbing the stairs again. "Thanks Killian," she quickly shouts, suddenly remembering her manners.
"Don't mention it," he winks before he completely disappears.
She tosses her bag aimlessly to the floor as she was instructed to do and slumps down onto the strange man's bed. She did exactly what every parent and teacher beats into every child's head, never follow a stranger into their creepy van, except this time it's a rickety boat. She didn't even ask if this man is a pervert, she just blindly followed him onto his boat. A boat in which will probably fall apart the moment they hit a small wave.
She groans and falls back onto the bed, berating herself for her naive thoughts. She slings her arm over her face and hides her shame because she just promised her dad, she was going to be safe.
Idiot!
XXXXXXXXX
After some convincing, she joined Killian up top for lunch. She sat quietly with her legs crisscrossed, near the front of the boat while Killian sat across from her. His baby blue eyes were burning a hole right through her and she honestly couldn't take his longing looks anymore. She recklessly tossed her sandwich down onto her plate and brushed her hands to clear the crumbs.
"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" He quickly defends, but proceeds to hold her stern gaze.
"You know..." she gestures toward his face hoping he will understand what she's trying to explain. "Like that," she demands coldly causing him to burst out into laughter.
"You're a feisty one, aren't you, Swan?" He smiles, too proud and too full of himself, inspiring her eyes to roll in annoyance. He takes a giant bite out of his sandwich and continues to stare.
"You're annoying," she snaps as she picks up her sandwich and takes a generous bite.
"So I'm told," he laughs, completely unaffected by her words. "And you're cute." He takes another bite as she fights every desire itching in her fingertips to push him overboard. "So, tell me little pirate, how come Sicily?"
"Pirate?" She flatly questions as she quirks up one eyebrow.
"Yeah," he chuckles to himself and leans in dangerously close. "You made yourself at home on my ship and stole the precious jewel," she continues to stare in confusion, never responding verbally as his face grows serious. "You stole my heart."
She dramatically rolls her eyes again and throws her sandwich at his face. "You are so cheesy. Tink was right about you. You come on way too strong."
Killian only laughs in response while he gathers her lunch that fell apart in his face and quickly stacks the ingredients back together, kindly placing it gently back upon her plate.
"So, little pirate, how come Sicily?" He asks again.
"I don't know," she shrugs because truthfully, she hasn't a clue. "I just need a break from home, and I knew I wanted to travel around these little islands. I started off in England which was was fun, Greece was beautiful, but Sicily," she shrugs again still unsure where she's headed with this conversation. "It just calls to me."
"I understand. These parts are absolutely breathtaking," he softly admits, grasping her full attention from the sincerity in his voice. Her eyes flick toward his, but he's no longer staring like a creep, his gaze is fixated on the endless ocean that surrounds them. "I'm from England, but ever since I turned eighteen, I have been traveling all around by my boat."
"Is that why you were so willing to take me?"
"Yeah, I take people all around. I never decline an opportunity to set sail to a new destination."
"That must be so..." the words die on her tongue as she tries to come up with a word that would justify the feeling warming her heart.
"Exhilarating. Freeing. Satisfying," Killian rambles off his choice of words as he continues to stare off into the distance.
"Yes, all of those things."
XXXXXXXX
She takes a shaky step off the boat and groans from the ache between her legs. Two nights in a row, each with a different person...welp, she's officially a slut and this secret shall die with her, she vows to herself.
She stumbles onto the dock, because of the klutz that she is and flushes crimson, hoping Killian didn't just witness her almost eating shit.
"You alright there, Swan?" He asks in a concerned tone, eliciting another groan from her throat.
"Yeah...I'm all good," she mumbles as she turns around to face him.
She winces when she notices his appearance in broad daylight. His bathing suit bottoms are hanging rather low off the side of his hip while his button up shirt is only being held together by one button that's so obviously in the wrong spot. Her eyes wander up to his jet-black hair that is sticking out in every which way and anyone would be stupid, if they didn't know that was "just fucked" hair.
"Well, I wish you luck, Swan. I have to be heading back before the storms roll in."
"Storms?" She questions, peering up into the baby blue sky with not a cloud above. "Uh Killian, the sky is clear."
"Just you wait," he smiles confidently and begins steering his boat away from the dock. "Nice meeting you, Swan," he shouts with a proud smile, just like Tink.
She should probably just throw herself off this dock right now to hide away from another embarrassing one night stand.
"Bye Killian," she says instead of drowning herself and turn on her heels because she really wants to see Sicily.
She's surrounded by the most stunning blue-green ocean that allows her to see straight to the bottom, but her eyes are somehow drawn to the old cream colored buildings, hovering over her. Her breath actually floats away and she's caught in a trance of pure beauty.
Her lips slowly curl into a smile as a warm gentle breeze passes by her and she knows she's where she needs to be. An overwhelming amount of energy surges through her body and her feet take off toward the quant little town.
She treks through the village of Catania, completely enthralled by all the old buildings and the buzz of people shuffling around. She's not exactly sure how long she walks for, before she finds a place that appears to be a hotel of some sort.
"Excuse me," she softly speaks as she enters a rundown building. An elderly, Sicilian woman, with big brown eyes and a head full of silver hair, glances up from behind the counter. Emma timidly places her hands down on the counter and smiles sweetly because the stranger is eyeing her very suspiciously. "Do you have any available rooms here?"
"Scusami," the woman replies with one eyebrow scaling high in questioning.
She twists her lips wondering if the woman even speaks English at all. "Um..." she nervously bites her lip as the cold-hard gaze stares upon her and she feels like she's about to crack under the pressure and dart out of the building.
"Do you only speak English, dear?" A soft voice drifts sweetly from behind her.
Emma quickly whips around to discover a rather small woman peering up at her. The stranger is old enough to be her mother, she notices right away, from the very few gray hairs peeking through the thick chestnut tresses. The woman's brown eyes are watching her carefully, waiting patiently for Emma to find her voice again.
"Uh yes," she weakly answers, completely ashamed by her American culture and now she knows why they call them, stupid Americans.
"Most people speak English here, but Rosalie is very old and set in her ways," the older woman smiles as her eyes drift passed Emma and land fondly upon the very old woman. Emma peeks over her shoulder and watches with great interest as both women speak beautifully in Italian. The foreign language rolling graciously off their tongues in what only sounds like music to her ears. The younger of the two, smiles and turns her attention toward Emma yet again. "Rosalie's son usually runs this bed and breakfast, but he's not in today. A room is about sixty-five dollars a night."
"Oh...uh, that's a little bit much for me right now," she nervously answers, but the kind woman is still smiling, making her feel a little more at ease in this strange land. "You're American," she comments, the woman nodding slowly in response. "Do you know any places I could work part time for the summer?"
The woman's grin spreads from ear to ear and reaches her big, enchanting eyes. "I do," she concedes, spinning around and heading toward the door with her finger curling, motioning for Emma to follow. "This way, dear."
Emma sighs in relief and turns back around to Rosalie, "thank you," she mutters even though the woman probably doesn't understand a damn word.
"Medigan," Rosalie mutters under her breath, provoking Emma's nose to crinkle in confusion, but she ignores the older woman and follows the strange lady out the door.
Another stranger she's so blindly following.
She stumbles back outside into the warm evening air and rushes to follow along. "Um, excuse me? What's your name?"
"It's Cora Mills, my dear," the woman replies as her little legs walk at a pace that Emma cannot possibly believe is actually walking. "I have a barn up the hill, above the village. I need someone to help around the farm for the summer because my daughter isn't coming home like I anticipated to help out."
"Oh, cool." Emma picks up her pace upon the gravel pathway that's leading up a very steep hill. Green eyes follow the beaten path and she inhales sharply as she realizes the path is going to be a bitch to climb.
"Are you alright back there?" Cora calls over her shoulder casually, practically jogging with ease up the hill.
"Yeah, I'm good," she lies and pushes her body to climb the damn thing, so she doesn't appear as a total idiot. This strange woman is probably double her age and is breathing like she's sitting down sipping tea. Fuck she's out of shape. "So, how old is your daughter?" She heaves, attempting small talk.
If Cora doesn't want Emma to hear her or not, she still hears the soft sound of a giggle. "She's twenty-six. Regina is in New York right now studying to be a doctor," the woman proudly states as they continue this path that the devil himself must have created.
"That's...nice," she pants mindlessly as she gasps for air. "So...you live here, now...where are you originally...from," she stammers through her winded pipes.
"Maine." Cora abruptly stops and spins around, appearing calm and collective while Emma's struggling for a single breath and sweat is starting to soak the back of her shirt. "Are you sure you are alright, dear?"
"Yeah," she fibs again and waves off the woman's concern, prompting the older woman to spin around and continue their journey.
"My husband and I traveled Europe when Regina turned eighteen, it was our twentieth wedding anniversary trip. We spent the entire summer visiting every country until our passports were full," she giggles softly as she reminisces about her past. "Anyway, I realized that life was too short, and I wanted the simple life. Regina was moving to New York for school and our house was empty. At first, we moved to Greece, but my ancestors are from Sicily and I simply just fell in love."
"I totally...understand..." she gasps as they reach the top of the hill. Her arm drags across her forehead, wiping away the sticky sweat that's clinging to her hairline.
"You'll get used to the climb dear, it just takes time. This way, I will show you to the barn and the attached room you will be staying in."
A/N: Yes, I am rewriting this story. Its 31 chapters in total and I will slowly add chapters as I finish editing them. I have added an extra chapter and extended some scenes if anyone is interested in reading this story again! Thanks again for all the support.