Chapter Eleven: A Leap of Faith

He didn't know what to do with his hands.

In fact, he couldn't waver much of a reaction at all. Not because the thought of kissing Clara Oswald hadn't crossed his mind before, but because she was all he could think about from that moment forward. The sweet scent of her hair, the warmth of her lips as they gently pressed against his in an act of sheer impulse. The feeling that she might mean more to him than he ever thought possible. It was a moment that began as abruptly as it ended, for when she pulled away, he couldn't help but wish that she hadn't.

Her deep brown eyes, quiet and curious, peered into his. His lack of an actual response led them to immediately fill with apprehension. "I didn't—"

He cut her off this time, meeting her lips in an answer that rendered her both surprised and relieved. Good, she thought to herself, reaching up to rake her hands through his hair. Because she didn't know how she was going to finish that sentence. And quite frankly, they were both at a loss for words.

While their first kiss had been like asking a question, their second was devoid of any sort of indecision as The Doctor reached down to grasp her hips without a moment's hesitation. Clara arched her back beneath his touch, moaning slightly as he turned them so that he could press her body against the metal of the hood, the bite of cold steel searing through her satin dress. Wrapping her legs around his waist so she could pull him closer, she knew that this was the absolute last thing she should be doing right now. But every thought that previously occupied her mind had now been replaced by the warmth of his hands as they gently caressed her thighs, the feeling of his tongue against hers.

She parted only when her attention had been caught by a faint churring noise coming from over his shoulder. Breathless, she tried to regain her sight as it focused in and out on the blurry figure standing just meters away from where they were.

"...Doctor?" she asked, trying her best not to be distracted as his lips trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He stopped upon hearing the hesitation in her voice. Pointing behind him, Clara watched as he pivoted slowly and met her line of vision. She didn't know whether to be bewildered or amused by the pair of glassy black eyes staring back at them. "Is that a...beaver?"

The animal crouching on the perimeter of the headlights blinked at them curiously. Steadying his hands on her waist, The Doctor turned to shoot her a glare.

"A beaver—?" he protested, gesturing towards the creature in disbelief. He was still trying to regain his breath. "That's a...that's a badger! They're the cleanliest nocturnal omnivores known to man, and they have an excellent sense of smell." He paused flash a quick smile at the small mammal, as if it could hear every word they were saying. "If I'm not mistaken, they're Wisconsin's state animal. We're lucky to even see one in person."

"Right." Her eyes still trained on the badger, Clara leaned in and lowered her voice. "And are they known for attacking people?"

He mashed his lips together thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, I did read a rather gruesome article in the Daily Mail once—"

They both flinched as the badger curled back its lip and hissed, revealing a set of canines that were elfin but incredibly sharp. The Doctor swallowed, trying to locate his words without further provoking the creature.

"—and maybe it's best we don't find out."

Carefully helping Clara down from the hood of the vehicle, The Doctor squeezed her hand twice before letting go. They tip-toed to their doors on opposing sides of the TARDIS, exchanging uneasy glances beneath the badger's passive stare. Once they were safely inside, he flashed the headlights twice before watching the animal scurry off into the grass, never to be seen again. He let out a faint breath, leaning back against his seat.

Clara turned to give him a sidelong glance. It wasn't long before they started laughing, the absurdity of their situation slowly catching up to them. She had kissed him. And it was everything she had expected it to be, and then some. Sans the omnivore, she didn't know how far they might have gone, snogging restlessly on the side of the road. It was certainly a first for her, and as she raised her fingertips to trace the path his lips had taken on her skin, she had a feeling it wouldn't be her last.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that," The Doctor murmured after several minutes of silence. She shot him a cheeky grin in reply.

"My guess is one day, tops." Pushing back the stray hairs that had fallen from her ponytail, the young writer buckled her seat-belt, and urged her passenger to do the same. These past few minutes were certainly enough to get her mind off of things. In fact, she felt more awake than ever as she shifted the gear into drive and said, "Come on. We have a country to cross."

Clara bit into her soft pretzel, the taste of batter and salt lingering on her lips as she tried to focus on her book. The Westroads Mall in Omaha, Nebraska was anything but quiet, but the young traveler had managed to secure a bench just outside of Macy's, afternoon shoppers meandering the brightly-lit commercial corridors, ogling at the storefront windows. Clara brushed the crumbs from her fingertips and turned the page.

"I don't matter much down there," Rose murmured in dismay as they sat side-by-side on the edge of the time machine, the doors propped wide-open, their legs dangling into a pool of nothingness above Earth's solar system. Hardly anything existed in the spaces between them and the planets below. There was no gravity, no air. She wondered how anyone could cope knowing that they were completely alone.

"Sure you do," the man beside her replied, sounding incredulous. "Your mum seems to worry about you a whole lot, which she ought to, since she's your mum. And you must have friends back home that miss you. I can't go a full day without you, imagine what it must be like for them!"

Rose laughed, her dimples appearing on either side of her cheeks. "They're much too busy birthing kids or establishing careers to spare a thought for me. If anything, they're just happy I'm out traveling. I had nothing going for me there."

"Well, just because you had nothing going for you there doesn't mean you won't anywhere else," he replied. "Some people become lawyers or prime ministers, others...defend the universe in a daft blue box."

They were both laughing this time. The police telephone box, with its ability to displace itself throughout time and space, had become her new sense of normalcy. Not to mention it was bigger on the inside. Often times Rose considered whether the knowledge she had gained these past few months had made her more intellectual or mad. Perhaps a little bit of both.

A child dropped their ice cream cone onto the tile and began crying. Clara watched distractedly as the mother picked him up by the armpits, rubbing soothing circles on his back until his sobs subsided into a few weepy tears. It wasn't often that she felt homesick, but as the young traveler watched the two from afar, she couldn't help but wish that her own mother were still alive to guide her in the right direction. To reassure her that this, that New York, was where she needed to go. Traveling alone had taught her a lot about herself, but it also deprived her of what it felt like to matter to someone as deeply as a child did to their mother, or as the characters of her novel did to each other.

Her mind wandered towards The Doctor and the innumerable amount of questions he presented. Was it possible to feel this intimately towards a person only having known them for thirty-six hours? She had some difficulty discerning the parts of her that were infatuated with him from those that felt something else, something more meaningful and unfamiliar. Was a relationship with him even practical at this point?

And where was he, anyway?

Clara checked her phone. 1:32 p.m. The Doctor was supposed to meet her back here twelve minutes ago. After nearly fourteen hours of driving in a dress, she was in dire need of fresh clothes, so they had split up to use the facilities and grab a bite to eat. Twenty minutes had given her more than enough time to change into a pair of jeans, find an Auntie Anne's, and do a bit of shopping—because while punctuality was never her strong suit, checklists were.

He's probably out buying a hover-board or something, she thought to herself. She had seen a family of four take turns riding around on one earlier. While her interest had piqued at the contraption, she couldn't see the long-term appeal, only that The Doctor would love it and immediately want one for himself. The thought made her laugh as she envisioned him trying to balance on the contraption.

If he was off doing other things, Clara thought, then she had every right to do the same. Finishing her pretzel and setting her book aside, she looked around for another shop to peruse. While she had planned several possible outfits for tomorrow's interview, it wouldn't hurt to add another. Something floral, perhaps. There was Macy's, and a Banana Republic. Or maybe a new pair of heels—

Her eyes latched onto the hair salon just across the square.

Biting her lip in thought, the young woman unlocked her phone. The Doctor had helped her install a messaging app than ran on wifi—after all her time spent online, she still didn't know these types of things existed.

Slight change of plans, she wrote to him. I'm going to the hair salon. Meet me there?

He replied not a minute later.

Gotcha! Don't get anything too crazy.

And then:

Actually, ignore that. I'd love to see you with purple fringe.

Smiling foolishly to herself, Clara turned off her phone and grabbed her backpack from the bench. They had a few hours to spare after pulling another all-nighter, and after all, those nine hundred miles hadn't driven themselves. She was more than willing to pamper herself as she approached the counter of the salon and requested an appointment. It had been years since she had done anything remotely interesting to her hair, the long locks of brown grown halfway down her back by now.

Some of her hair was already wrapped in tin foil by the time The Doctor found her, an impish grin on his face. It took one look at him for Clara to realize that a part of his quiff was now unnaturally shorter than the rest, as if it had been severed off by a pair of child's scissors. She gaped.

"Oh my stars," she said, pushing the tin foil out of her eyes. "What happened to you?"

"What, you mean this?" The Doctor asked, pointing to his singed quiff as if it wasn't apparent at all. "My hair got caught in a flat iron at JCPenney! This saleswoman was trying to demonstrate something to me and I wanted to try it out for myself." He rocked back and forth on his heels. "Management kindly asked me to leave afterwards."

"Can't imagine why," she mumbled to herself. As if this day could get any crazier.

"Anyways, I thought to myself, 'Clara's at a hair salon right now! Might as well join her.' I thought I could get a trim while we're at it. Unless you think it suits me?" He turned his head to the side so she could examine his profile. "Eh? I think it brings out my eyes."

"Makes my eyes hurt."

The Doctor slumped his shoulders in disappointment.

"May I have a trim? My hair has seemed to develop a fault," he informed Clara's hairdresser when she returned with a new bowl of hair dye. The middle-aged woman peered at him over her glasses and jabbed her brush towards a folding chair in the corner.

"You can sit over there and wait your turn," she told him, eyeing his singed hair with a suspicious look. He retired immediately to the designated spot, giving Clara a big thumbs-up as he crossed his ankles and sat patiently. The hairdresser returned to teasing Clara's hair, brushing the product in before adding another layer of tin foil. It was beginning to feel like a dome.

"Is he with you?" she asked between layers. Clara nodded. The woman sighed heavily through her nose. "Dare I ask what happened?"

"I think you best wait until it's his turn," she told her. "It sounds funnier when it comes from him."

Clara was nearly finished by the time The Doctor took the seat adjacent from hers. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she beheld her new appearance as she ran her fingers through her short hair, the dark brown now feathering out into a myriad of honeys and blondes. The last and only other time she had dyed her hair was in sixth form—she had gone from a normal brunette to a slightly lighter one with a kit she had bought from Tesco, and barely anyone noticed until she mentioned it. Now, staring back at herself, she liked what she saw. It was different and charming and entirely her.

The Doctor seemed to like it as well, because she caught him staring in the mirror with a kiddish grin on his face.

Frowning, she confessed, "You make me nervous sometimes."

"You make me nervous lots of times, so at least we're even," he replied, thanking the hairdresser as she tied a nylon cape around his neck. He noticed the way she carried herself more confidently—her shoulders back, her posture straightened ever so slightly. "I dunno—it's like you've become more of yourself." He paused to laugh. "Does that even make sense?"

"Yeah, it does," she answered quietly, cupping her reddening face with her hands.

The hairdresser leveled each strand of The Doctor's hair between her fingertips before cutting, the remnants drifting to the ground with each passing snip. She had maintained his hair's overall shape but refined the parts that were severely overgrown, evening out the aftermath of his mishap without leaving him completely bald. Clara certainly approved of it, because when he stood from his chair twenty minutes later, she reached up and pushed it out of his eyes with a smile.

"Now you'll be ready for your remaining residency interviews," she said as they walked out of the salon. He released a shaky breath in return.

"You know that was my first time at a salon in fifteen years?"

"What? No."

"I'm serious! My mum always used to cut it for me, or Amy, when she visits. There's not many people I trust coming near me with a pair of scissors." He rubbed the back of his neck and shivered, as if the feeling of being in that chair still made him uneasy. "And besides, I couldn't show weakness when I was in there, else you would have laughed at me."

"I would not have laughed at you," she promised him, though she bit back an amused smile. "So is that it, then? The one thing that makes you quake is the idea of your hair being separated from your head?"

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds silly," he mumbled. "Hair loss is a tragic pattern in my family. Getting it cut is like...throwing a boomerang. You don't know if it's going to come back, but you hope it does!"

"I'm pretty sure boomerangs are made to come back."

"You don't know that! Have you ever thrown a boomerang?"

"You're right. I haven't," Clara frowned, lingering behind a few steps to inspect the back of his head. "And come to think of it, it is starting to look a bit patchy in places..."

The Doctor spun around so quickly she ran straight into him.

"You're kidding," he said, gripping her shoulders in desperation. "You're kidding, aren't you? I'm only twenty-six, Clara. This can't be happening to me at twenty-six; I'm still young!" She shot him a strange look as he drew a hand to cover his mouth. "Oh god...I knew I should have taken up those posh meditation classes when I was in medical school. Did you know that stress can lead to premature hair loss—?"

"Please calm down," she told him, reaching for her phone in her back pocket as it vibrated. She might have been joking, but it still didn't mitigate her concern for him. "You really should've been more careful then before singing your hair off like that. It's a fire hazard."

The Doctor continued to pace as Clara unlocked her cell phone and read the e-mail that had been sent to her, her eyes scanning each line with an excruciating slowness. She must have looked disturbed, because The Doctor stopped pacing and asked, "Are you alright?"

He looked pointedly at the thumbnail she had stuck between her teeth. She didn't even notice she was doing it until she tasted blood. Making a fist, she replied, "Yes, everything's fine. I just...can I borrow your cell phone? I need to make a call."

It was in her hands not a second later.

"I'll start the car, okay?" he asked, Clara nodding as he cupped her cheek and smiled. She had been so preoccupied with gaining distance that she almost forgot that moments like these were now allowed between them, moments in which she could just let her guard down and submit herself to The Doctor's consolation. Leaning in to his touch, she smiled back at him, her eyes still trained on his retreating figure as he left her to her own devices. Their phones felt like dead weight in her hands.

"Hello, this is Wayfarer Industries, Martha speaking. How may I help you today?"

"Hi, yes, my name is Clara Oswald. I have an interview scheduled for Wednesday at six o'clock p.m.—I just wanted to confirm that everything was still good to go?" It was now her turn to pace as she walked back and forth the length of the vending machines, a fussy infant in a stroller wailing as he and his mother passed by. The young writer pressed the phone harder to her ear, her raw thumbnail back between her teeth.

"Let me check the calendar for you ma'am," Martha reassured her, the distant sound of typing echoing through the line. "Yes, your appointment with Mrs. Tasha Lem still stands for tomorrow at six—we tried contacting you on your cell phone but received no answer. We just wanted to make sure you were still coming."

"Yes! I am, and sorry about that. I flew in from London about a week ago, and I still haven't invested in an international data plan. I should probably get on that."

Despite the young writer's ramblings, Martha laughed softly. "That's quite alright, ma'am. How are you liking the city so far? Have you gone sight-seeing yet?"

It took a while for Clara to realize that it was New York the receptionist was referring to. A panicked expression crossed her face, for she wasn't particularly interested in explaining why she was in Omaha, Nebraska instead of the place where she was supposed to be. She pictured herself in the most ideal of circumstances: lounging in her hotel room, scanning through potential interview questions on her laptop. Ordering a New York-style pizza pie. Nina's words rang in her ear. Fake it 'till you make it, honey.

"Yes, I have! I can certainly see the appeal," she said from about a thousand miles away. She found it rather easy to lie when the other person couldn't see her face. "Bit noisy though. Is it always like this?" Of course it is, you idiot. Cities are perpetually loud.

"I'm afraid so," the receptionist said, a hint of amusement in her tone. "You should be used to it though, being from London and all."

"Right! Yes, of course," Clara replied, suppressing a sigh as she shut her eyes tight and willed this entire debacle to be over already. Not for her and The Doctor's sake, but for that of her career. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"See you tomorrow, Miss Oswald. Have a nice day," Martha said before hanging up.

Clara exhaled in exasperation, pressing the edge of The Doctor's phone into the space between her eyes. It didn't sit well with her, lying to the people she was seeking a sponsorship from. But she needed to put her best foot forward.

Even if it wasn't the most candid one.

"Are you sure you're turning your back on me?" she hollered over her shoulder. The sound of birds and a bubbling stream a few meters ahead were the last things she wanted to hear right now. Where had civilization gone? The buildings, the gas stations? A simple porta-potty would have sufficed. But as Clara stood on the side of the road with the white sunshine warming her skin, there was nothing but trees and grass for hundreds and hundreds of miles. She hadn't been in the middle of nowhere before. This was a first.

"Yes, I'm sure! My eyes are closed and everything!" The Doctor replied from the other side of the road, his voice echoing beneath the verdant canopy of beech and American elk. He had killed the engine and was now leaning on the hood of the TARDIS; they hadn't passed another vehicle in the past hour. "You know, you really shouldn't have drank that iced coffee before we left."

"Oh, I know!" she called back, still unable to move an inch. "I regret it! My bladder regrets it!" She paused to chew on her thumbnail, which had been reduced to a nail-bed in the past fifteen minutes. That's how deeply she loathed the idea of weeing without the luxury of restroom stalls. Or scented soap. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Oh, I dunno," he mused, craning his neck to get a good look at the sky. Not a cloud in sight. "Illinois? Or Iowa, maybe. I always get the 'I's' mixed up."

A mosquito landed on the sleeve of her yellow blouse. She smacked it away and felt a shiver run the course of her spine. "I can't—I can't do it. I don't care if I get a UTI, or my bladder explodes—I am not peeing in a bed of grass!"

Swiveling on her heel, she maintained her stubborn disposition, despite The Doctor's pointed look towards her squirming figure from across the highway. She may have sounded cowardly, but when she agreed to go on this road trip, she'd anticipated being in control of where she went to relieve herself. She didn't anticipate being formally acquainted with the great outdoors.

"Do you want me to plug my ears?" The Doctor offered helpfully. "Because I can!"

"No, no—" she shook her head, shooing away another mosquito. "It's not just the idea of you hearing me that's bothersome, it's the idea of everything hearing me! Insects, birds, the TARDIS—"

"The TARDIS?"

"And maybe I'm going a bit mad!" she snapped, pulling at her roots as she bounced uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. "Maybe it's the chemicals from the hair dye, or the venti vanilla coffee I inhaled—why did I have to buy a venti?"

He didn't have an answer to that question. "You know, going for a wee in the wild isn't so bad, if you think about it," he said instead, trying his best to put her at ease. "Urine's main component is nitrogen, which is an essential plant nutrient. So in a way, it's like you're giving back to the environment!"

His words of encouragement didn't seem to help. In fact, Clara's state-of-mind only seemed to worsen as she crouched down and closed her eyes tightly, as if doubling over would somehow help her hold it in. What was the record for the longest duration of time gone without peeing? Because if she couldn't muster the pluck to attend to her basic needs, she may as well beat it. The red behind her eyelids vanished as The Doctor's shadow shielded her from the sun.

"Okay, come on, let me help you." He helped her stand and steadied her by the shoulders. Clara made a face.

"I get that you're a doctor and all, but I really don't need—"

"No, no, not like that," he laughed. "You can go a little ways further into the forest, do what you need to do, and I'll...take a walk. Whistle a tune. I won't be able to hear a thing, I promise."

Clara sighed, leaning her head on his chest in exhaustion. "Why are you being so nice? People aren't structured to be this nice."

The Doctor shrugged, resting a hand on the back of her head. "Better get used to it then, because you're stuck with me."

She knew he wouldn't be far, but as he distanced himself from her, her stomach twisted into knots. They were amassed in a sea of green, where the only other life forms were hidden in the leafy concealment of the trees. In the day and a half she had known him, it wasn't often she left his immediate side to venture completely alone. Westroads had been different; she had been surrounded by people and shops and man-made walls. Out here, the only trace of mankind was the road that cleaved the forest in half, snaking in both directions for as far as the eye could see. The young writer released a shaky breath.

Quit overreacting, she told herself sternly, making an effort to turn the other way and begin walking. Swatting away branches to make a path for herself, she felt the crisp grass crunch beneath her boots, tufts of dandelion flowers grazing her ankles as she meandered away from the road and further into the woodlands. Being engulfed by so many unfamiliar things felt an awful lot like getting lost, and it reminded Clara of a time when she was six. It was bank holiday Monday at Blackpool Beach, and she had been swallowed by a throng of at least ten billion people, or at least that's what it felt like. Strange, towering figures loomed above her, much like the trees did now. The only recognizable sensation had been the sting of summer sunshine on her face. She never remembered being so scared. And then her mum found her.

Yanked from the crowd like a fish out of water, she remembered the surge of joy that came from seeing her mother's face again, the culmination of relief and security so overwhelming it had urged her to tears. They had fish and chips, and then they drove home, Ellie Oswald tucking her daughter in and making a promise that Clara would carry for years after her passing.

"It doesn't matter where you are, in the jungle or the desert or on the moon. However lost you may feel, you'll never really be lost. Not really. Because I will always be here, and I will always come and find you. Every single time."

Clara felt a pang in the place where her heart sat. Even now, eight years after her mother died, there were instances where she sat still, waiting to be found by the one person whose promise uplifted her child-like hope. Often times, that hope was her main source of strength. Perhaps it was the fact that she missed her mother now more than ever, or that she was so far from home, but as Clara thought about her upcoming Wayfarer Interview and the decisions she took to arrive here, she tried to believe that she would be guided to the right place.

With that in mind, she drew herself to a halt in a patch of forest that appeared a little more secluded than most (she didn't know how this was possible; it was just a gut feeling) and relieved herself as quickly as possible, unable to keep herself from shuddering out of sheer discomfort. Guided by the distant rush of running water, she continued to navigate through the body of trees until she eventually reached a clearing, where a lake reflected the blinding sunlight like a mirror.

"What song were you whistling?" she called out to The Doctor, who was sitting near the edge of the water with his elbows propped up against his knees. He craned his neck to look back at her and smiled as she approached. Plopping down beside him on the grass, she watched as a leaf tumbled down to rest atop the surface of the lake, ripples of water fanning out from its light impact.

She strained to hear the tune that escaped his lips amid the noisy birds that warbled above-head. "Is it 'Mr. Blue Sky' by Electric Light Orchestra?"

"Correctamundo!" he exclaimed, immediately making a face. "Oh, that's a strange word. I'm never saying that again."

He plucked a dandelion from the ground and rewarded it to his fellow traveler, who grinned as she accepted it and began picking at its petals. Teardrops of vibrant yellow rolled off her fingertips with oncoming gusts of wind.

"I don't think I've ever gone this long feeling so disconnected from everything," she admitted once the flower was but a bare stem in her hands. "Whenever I travel for work, it's usually someplace busy, like a city, or a tourist attraction. I've never experienced...this." She gestured to the tall trees that surrounded them. Laughing to herself, she said,"I guess it's because I always thought I'd feel lost."

The Doctor stretched out his legs. He found it amusing how much longer they were compared to hers. Nudging her shoulder, he asked, "Well, do you feel lost now?"

She shook her head, surprised to find that she was strangely at ease with herself, and all that was around her. Interviews aside, she was willing to enjoy this moment for the time being.

"No. In fact, I'm feeling more spontaneous than anything right now." She chuckled and inspected a lock of her hair. "Chopped off five inches. Went a bit blonde. Peed in a forest." They were both laughing now.

"Well, don't get too comfortable, because we're not in New York yet," he warned her, picking himself up off the ground and kicking his shoes off. Staring at them in dubiety, Clara watched as he backed himself up from the edge of the water, that glint of excitement in his eye brightening with each step. The young writer pulled her lips into a frown.

"Doctor, what are you doing—?"

"GERONIMO!" he bellowed into the open air of the clearing, his ganging limbs flailing as he ran and took a gigantic leap. Clara's eyes went wide as he catapulted into the lake and sent sprays of water flying in all directions. Flecks of water now dotting her shirt and jeans, she stood from her place on the ground and watched as his contagious smile bobbed up from the surface of the water. She shook her head in disbelief.

"You're fully clothed!"

"Are you joining me?" he asked in return, pushing back the wet hair that was plastered to his forehead. He then proceeded to mimic Lenny Kravitz's guitar solo in 'Are You Gonna Go My Way,' an act that had her both amused and stupefied as she crossed her arms and seriously considered jumping in after him. She was feeling a bit spontaneous, after all.

Prying her boots off and dropping them into the grass, Clara felt her heart pick up speed as she took a few steps from the edge of the lake to get a running start. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She couldn't believe she was doing this in the middle of nowhere. But most of all, she couldn't believe how secure she felt. She may have had no clue as to where they were, but she felt anything but lost.

So with a big grin on her face, Clara sprinted towards the water, and took a leap of faith.

A/N: There are a lot of deleted scenes that I've acquired from writing these previous chapters, and I've been considering posting them on my Tumblr once this story is finished. Is that something you would be interested in? My writing playlist for this fic may also be on there in due time, as music has served a large inspiration for this journey as a whole. It includes the songs that are mentioned in the chapters as well as a few others, and I've enjoyed listening to it these past few months!