Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the delayed update! September hit and made everything 100% crazier around here! Hopefully, next time won't take me so long. :)

Many thanks to Rubyhair, my beta, for giving this a look over. And to all of you who are following/faving/reviewing this story? I LOVE YOU ALL. I mean that. It's unbelievably motivational. You have no idea. THANK YOU!

oOo

And if I stand next to you

Chapter Two

(will you hear what i'm not saying)

oOo

Bones made a sharp turn into the driveway to the farmhouse. Not bothering to lift his head from his pillow, Jim squinted out the shaded window of the rental craft that Bones had secured before they'd arrived in Atlanta. The sunny day was nothing like Jim's mood, and even though the window was tinted, he almost didn't want to look out.

But he did, and the ever-present ache lodged in his chest. Mrs. McCoy's house seemed larger than he remembered but that wasn't saying much. Most things appeared bigger to him now simply because his life seemed so insignificant, or so small. Or so fragile. Bones had risked his career for Jim and although he would never forget that, he couldn't stop thinking the way he did about himself. And if Bones knew? He exhaled a slow rush of air as he thought of the consequences. His friend would feel like something had slugged him. It would be the worst wound, and he couldn't hurt Bones that way, not the very man who'd put himself in the line of fire. So, as always, Jim stuffed it inside like he always did and swallowed back his fear as if his life depended upon it. And it did. He'd rather die than Bones know any of these messed up, twisted ideas of his that made no sense.

The craft shut off, the sudden stillness shattering his self-loathing musings.

Jim was with the doctor, at Bones' childhood home, away from reminders of their troubles and nowhere near San Francisco, and that was all that mattered, he told himself.

"You're awake," the voice beside him said, sounding happy.

Why did Bones have to be so damn cheerful? Happy Bones only made him feel even smaller.

"Sorry," Jim mumbled, instantly berating himself for wishing Bones' happiness away. He might as well get it over with and take the "shittiest friend award" for the year. Hell, he'd probably already earned one for lifetime achievement.

"Sorry? For sleeping all that time?" Bones said. "Jim, recovering from what you went through isn't easy. When you look at the big picture, it's been a relatively short time."

"Seven weeks," he muttered. That wasn't a short time. Other than treatments and sleeping and PT and OT, he had nothing to do. No one allowed him to do anything, especially Bones and Spock, which made it longer. Seven weeks on the Enterprise was busy. It was his home. It was full. Here, without his command but always worrying about what he was doing and whether or not the doctor allowed it? Without anything constructive to do? Time went by at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Only five of which you've been awake, recovering, like I said..."

Jim shook his head and glanced at his friend. It was the same old story, and Bones was giving him the same piteous look. "Bones...maybe...I shouldn't have asked to do this." He turned his head back to the big farmhouse outside the craft. If it seemed this large to him out here, he couldn't imagine what he'd feel like trying to climb the front porch steps.

"You didn't necessarily ask. I volunteered to do this because this, what you're going through, isn't a journey you take on your own," Bones said. "You need people, Jim, to make the best recovery possible. Your therapists, Spock and Ny, even house cleaning. I see the way that you perk up when people are around to talk to ya, and while I'm taking care of a few things, my mama will be one of those people, Jim."

The words weren't exactly what he wanted to hear. Jim swallowed with difficulty, the cool speech of the doctor threatening his composure. Maybe what he needed wasn't people. He needed...he wanted...his friend, the one who didn't worry that he was going to break when someone breathed on him funny.

"Is that Joce's hovercraft?" Jim asked, finding himself a little awed at the craft in front of them.

Something sleek and expensive sat at Eleanor's front door. His fascination quickly vanished when he realized that it took the best spot to gain access to the house. The small hill that they'd have to use instead to get to the front steps loomed ahead like a mountain.

Bones groaned. "I told her I'd meet her there."

"The school?" Jim forced his head up and leaned it back against the seat.

"Yeah." Bones didn't look at him. "Jim, I'm going to get you set up in one of the bedrooms before I go. I will have to run an IV line or two, including electrolytes and replacement fluids, just to be on the safe side. I don't want to start this trip off with you dehydrated."

"I ate." Jim hated to constantly be on the defense, but it was hard when Bones was always speaking to him like a doctor and picking apart all that he did.

"A piece of toast," Bones said with a dry smile. "Half of one, and you gagged down only a little of the water."

Jim's stomach churned with the mere mention of the toast. "I just...I can't."

"It's probably the meds, both the injections last night and the meds this morning," Bones admitted.

Jim clenched his jaw until it hurt. God, he hated those injections. The pills. This endless cycle.

"Tomorrow will be better," Bones said, probably to assure him, but Jim wasn't sure a day would make a difference. "Maybe even tonight."

"Okay." Jim nodded, glancing over at Jocelyn's hovercar. "Let's get this over with."

Bones snorted. "With Jocelyn, nothing is just over with. I apologize now for anything she may say to ya, Jim."

Bones got out of the craft and came to Jim's door a minute later, two bags slung on his shoulder and looking more energetic than any singular person Jim had seen all week. Jim wondered how long it would actually take for him to have the same amount of energy. As it stood now...never.

The doctor looked down at him, his expression clearly concerned. Jim looked back up at him, hating himself.

"I'll give you a hand the entire way into the house, alright?" Bones said. Jim was pushing himself out of the seat without too much trouble but the doctor reached for him gave him a hand the entire way.

But after the first few steps, he realized that walking sucked, especially up this incline. Medication sucked. Sleepless nights need, too, and absolutely everything bothered him, especially the sweat pouring off his face like a bucket of it had been dumped on his head. He stopped and took a moment to wipe his forehead, grimacing at the sweat under his arms that he couldn't do anything about. "I think I need a second shower."

"I'll be able to help you with that when I get back. I shouldn't be too long." Bones locked his grip on Jim's arm as they maneuvered around Jocelyn's craft. "Jim, if you don't think..."

He had to move, that's what he thought. He knew he had to get off his ass. His physical therapist was relentless about that. He had to move to maintain any type of progress. "It's fine. I'll get there, just not in the form of running."

"Your fever is gone," Bones said, as if that made everything better, and from the doctor's point of view, it probably was a win. The doctor's hand pressed against Jim's back, supporting him as he took the porch steps with extreme care. "There'll be a bed set up for you on the first floor, Jim," Bones murmured in his ear. "So it's just little bit and then twenty meters or so into the house."

If he could make it to the damn door. "Jesus, Bones, what did you put in those hypos this morning," Jim sucked in a deep breath before taking the next step. His legs felt like bricks.

"I believe the drug therapy from last night has worn you out," Bones said, then hesitated. "Quite frankly, Jim, I can see a lot of sleeping in your future."

Jim really didn't mind being tired now, because even if Bones wasn't around all that much during this little visit, his mom would be around. If anyone reminded him of Bones, it was her. He took two more steps, then closed his eyes when he stood on the porch, noticing something different. Bones' mother had planted something new since the last time Jim was here. What was it? Something fresh and almost invigorating, something Jim hadn't experienced for a long time. The doctor kept his hand at the small of his back as he hesitated. Without it, Jim would have simply fallen back off the step. Without it, he would have never stepped forward when Eleanora McCoy beamed widely from the opened door.

She rushed out, a smile for both of them, but her eyes first swept over Bones. "Oh, my boys," she exclaimed, the emotion in her eyes strong but changing, especially when she looked at Jim.

As soon as he saw the concern in her eyes, his mouth felt like cotton was stuck to it. The same worry was in her eyes that he'd seen in Bones', but a hundred times greater. Nora moved towards him with ease and her opened arms folded around Jim first, thanks to Bones' forward nudge. She embraced him just as warmly as she always had but with a little more caution. "It's so good to see you, James."

Jim's eyes began to burn as she let go of him. James. The only other person who'd called him was now dead.

Dead.

"It's..." Jim couldn't believe he was gone, that he'd missed his funeral. He'd never gotten to pay his respects. He shouldn't even have to pay his respects. Pike should be here. He should be alive and... Jim had been too late and... "It's good to..." Jim let out a shaky breath, liquid seeping from his eyes anyway and trailing down his face. He wouldn't call them tears. He had no business crying, did he? Not when he was alive and fragile.

The hand that was supporting Jim's back now gripped his shoulder. Jim turned his head to hide his face as a few tears fell, and his cheek brushed against the top of the doctor's knuckles. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then cleared his throat. He had to compose himself, and he did, but barely.

"It's okay," Eleanora whispered, clutching Jim's now shaking hands. "You can let it out right here, with us, or you can wait. Whatever you want."

Remembering he was only a tag-along for this visit and that Jocelyn lurked somewhere in the house, he shook his head.

"That's just fine," Nora murmured. "Once Leonard has you settled in your room, I'll stop by with some tea, if you want."

Something cold sounded good, but he wasn't sure if Bones would want him to stay awake. He didn't know if he would be able to stay awake. So he looked at the doctor before he could stop himself.

Jim swallowed. This was what he was now. A patient completely dependent on the doctor standing in front of him.

Bones nodded. "If he can keep his eyes open, I imagine something to cool to quench his thirst may hit the spot. We had a little bit of a detour coming up to the steps."

Nora sighed as she saw the craft. "I didn't know she'd parked there," she said, "or I would have asked her to move."

"I'm not sure asking her for anything right now is too smart," Bones groused.

"Leonard," Nora breathed, as she wrapped her arms around her son. She hugged him, then looked him in the eye. "Maybe this visit will help."

"It's not necessarily a 'visit,'" Bones said, eyes averted from Jim.

Jim frowned. Why was Bones here? He really hadn't explained anything about it to Jim.

"You're late," a low-toned, feminine voice said.

Jim inwardly cringed. He'd hoped he'd make a clean entrance into the house before seeing Bones' ex.

The clipped words made him cringe even more when he peered past Nora and saw who'd spoken them. Jocelyn stood right at the door with her arms crossed as if she'd owned the doorway, her mouth pulled tightly down into a frown.

"I'm right on time," Bones said evenly. "Actually, ten minutes ahead of schedule."

"We should get moving," she said, lifting her chin.

"After I settle Jim into his room," Bones replied with an edge to his voice.

Jocelyn's gaze went to Jim as if she was seeing him for the first time. Jim's body stiffened on its own as she literally inspected him head to toe, sweaty hair and clothes and all.

"You look like death warmed over," Jocelyn commented, her eyes still sweeping over him. "Maybe you should've stayed in bed, so you don't put yourself in a grave."

Nora inhaled sharply, and the not tears that Jim had just shed, threatened to spill again. Had she always been this bitchy? He didn't remember her being quite like this, so something must be bothering her. He owed Bones big time so he kept his mouth shut...well, almost. "Nice to see you, too, Jocelyn," he proudly managed with only one crack to his voice.

"Joce, could you just...for once..." Bones' voice was close to snarling.

"For once...what? He doesn't look well, Leonard," she said, looking put out, as if she was the one who had the medical degree.

"You just don't say something like that to someone who did - " Jim's heart jumped to his throat as Bones almost revealed classified information about his death and subsequent resurrection, but Bones clamped his mouth shut just in time.

Jocelyn directed a frown at Bones. The doctor inhaled a large breath, only to exhale it with gusto.

"Never mind," Bones said, scowling.

When Jocelyn's gaze darted back to Jim, he briefly through he'd do anything to be able to run and hide in one of the nooks and crannies of the old farmhouse. His face had to look horrible. Red. Puffy. Showing signs of his tears. He was also too thin, basically a shell of his former self, because the depression he felt now wasn't something he really remembered ever feeling before. He didn't have life in him, but it wasn't because he wasn't trying. He tried hard, especially when he had PT. He just didn't try very hard on days like the one he was having.

But then he'd had it with the ex's blatant staring and her rudeness to Bones. Who told her she could rule the conversation? He turned back to his best friend, ignoring her.

"Bones? You can help me get settled, then you and the bi- " Jim stopped himself before he said what he wanted to and made things a million times worse. "... two of you can get going."

Bones certainly did not look at Jim carefully and arch his brow at him as if he'd heard what Jim didn't say. "Right," he said, turning to scowling woman in the doorway. "Joce, if you don't mind, I have most of that ten minutes left and I do need to get Jim comfortable in the spare room on the first floor."

"Fine. I'd prefer for us to ride together so we can talk. I'll wait in my hovercraft, while you make Jim all cozy and at home in the room we used on our wedding night," Jocelyn said, without another look at any of them. Her heels clicked rapidly down the front steps towards her expensive craft, her suit and satchel gleaming just like her craft in the sun.

Jim had nothing to say in reply to that. Neither did Bones. The doctor stood, his face darkening like a storm was rolling in.

Jim looked closer at his best friend and saw, maybe for the first time, the strain of all these weeks in those hazel eyes. He also, but not for the first time, wanted to punch a woman. Lenore Karidian was at the top of that list. Jocelyn may now be coming in at a close second.

"What a welcome, huh?" Jim said to his two silent companions. "I don't know about you, but I think this calls for some booze. I call dibs on the first toast to exes, of marriage or otherwise."

Jim inwardly shivered. As bad as Jocelyn was, he didn't think she'd ever tried to kill Bones like Lenore had Jim.

"There'll be no alcoholic drinks for you, you moron," Bones scowled as Nora's mouth twitched with quiet laughter. "And most certainly not on your diet."

"It was worth a shot," Jim said, then when no one said a word, "Get it? Shot?"

"I think you need some shut eye. That was the worst joke you've ever told," Bones groaned. "It hurt my ears, kid.

It had been pretty lame, but Jim would've said anything to break the tension after that fucked up awkwardness. "Your complaining is hurting my ears," Jim quipped back.

"Come on," Bones sighed, but there was maybe a smile on his lips as he put his arm around Jim's waist. "Let's get inside."

The doctor urged him to take a step. He obeyed and tried not to lean so much against Bones this time, but it turned out he really couldn't help it. His back screamed with pain, the ache radiating from side to side at every movement.

His body pitched forward of its own accord. "Bones," he whispered, panicked that he was falling.

But a second pair of arms slipped around him. Barely hearing the words spoken over him, Jim couldn't find the strength or willpower to stay on his feet.

"Hold on for a few more steps, Jim," Bones murmured. "Almost there."

oOo

McCoy and his mother all but carried Jim into the spare bedroom and onto the bed.

Jim's eyes closed as he sat slumped on the edge of the bed. His hands shook as he pulled at the shirt sticking to his skin. Eleanora glanced at McCoy in question.

"He's not feverish. He just got a little overheated walking up to the door," he said quietly to his mother. She looked pointedly at Jim's hands. McCoy sighed and ran his hands over his face. Only for the intervention of his mother had Jocelyn not seen the tremors.

"That conversation certainly didn't help matters, did it?" Eleanora said in a low voice.

That conversation had come at the worst time possible.

"Jim, I think you'll feel better if we remove your shirt," McCoy said a little louder.

"Okay," Jim mumbled.

McCoy first took hold of the bottom of Jim's sweat-drenched shirt. He was ready to ask him to raise his arms, but stopped when the captain leaned his head up against his chest. Perspiration from Jim's forehead seeped through McCoy's shirt and onto his own skin, and he quickly realized Jim's exhaustion had reached a new level. He let go of the shirt and pulled one of Jim's arms out of an armhole instead. With the shirt half-off, Jim's head pressed into McCoy's chest again like a weight, his breathing just as heavy.

"Jimbo, you have to help me out a little, alright?" McCoy asked in a soft voice.

Jim made a small noise in his throat and moved back a hairsbreadth. McCoy tugged the shirt off the other arm with a little difficulty and carefully guided it over the younger man's head. When he was done, Jim was leaning on him as before.

"He needs a nice, long bath," his mother whispered in his ear. Yet, out of nowhere, she handed him a soft, warm cloth that smelled clean and fresh. "It would make a world of difference for him, Leonard."

"When I get back," he said quietly as he wiped the rest of the sweat off of Jim Kirk's face and neck. The younger man's lashes fluttered a bit, and his shoulders curved inward. "He needs intravenous therapy."

His mother gave him a sideways glance and shook her head as she took off Jim's shoes, the left one first. A look of mortification stole over Jim's face and he opened his eyes wide.

"Sorry," Jim said weakly to Nora with what seemed to be an adrenaline-induced desire to speak. "I swear. Yesterday, I was able to take off my own shoes...and tell better jokes."

"Shh, son, don't you worry," she said, hushing him. "I've seen and heard a lot over the years. Did Leonard ever tell you I was a nurse for ten years, when his dad and I were first married?"

Jim's eyes turned bright with curiosity. "No," he murmured.

"Well, I was, and I've also been volunteering at a local clinic for the past six months. I know a thing or two about caring for independent, strong men like you," his mother said. "And I also know you don't need to wear those pants under the covers, but you're too exhausted to take them off yourself. Lie down, Jim."

Jim's face froze for a split second. McCoy held his breath, expecting a sour remark from Jim, but then the captain's shoulders relaxed and he did as she asked.

"You see, Jim," she said, unbuttoning and tugging the captain's pants down his hips. Jim's eyes never left her face. "It's okay to heal, and it's okay to take the time that you need to come back to yourself. You're not weak, you're learning how to handle yourself in the world again and see where you fit in." She paused and straightened and looked at him square in the eye. "It takes a pretty strong man do that, don't you think?"

Jim blinked several times, but then gave her one, slow nod.

McCoy stood back as she single-handedly managed the situation, allowing him the time to set up Jim's IV. The delivery from Starfleet medical was already set up in the corner, but he still double-checked everything. Jim's life was still in his hands and he wasn't about to screw something up during a simple visit. In fact, he had a mind to make it a week, to give themselves both the rest and relaxation they needed away from San Francisco.

"I'm taking a lot of time," he heard Jim say in a rasp lined with fatigue. "I'm not...strong."

"We all deal with trauma differently, and then we deal with each trauma a little bit differently than we handle others," Nora replied softly. "I suspect that a day will come when you will look back at this and see how resilient and determined you really were through it all and how proud we are of you."

McCoy paused. Had he ever told Jim he was proud of him?

He turned around just in time to see Jim's brow crease. The captain didn't say a word as he observed Nora's every move. Now much cooler and wearing only his boxers, he did look more comfortable than even five minutes ago. His mother swiftly pulled the covers up over him, the blue quilt exactly what Jim liked in a blanket. Jim closed his eyes, a look of happiness crossing his face as he settled in under the quilt.

"Don't fall asleep yet. Arms out, captain," she said. "Your doctor needs access to those veins."

Jim raised his arms a bit, allowing her to tuck the blanket under his arms.

McCoy came beside Jim and prepped his left arm. Jim stared right at him with a growing anxiety in his eyes. McCoy tried not to notice when the happiness all but disappeared. His hand stilled, and he gently squeezed the younger man's arm. "My mama will check on these while I'm gone, and when I come back, I will draw you a bath, alright?"

"Okay," Jim said thinly.

"How's the pain in your back?" McCoy murmured without looking up. "On a scale of one to ten, with five being somewhat bearable and ten, off the charts," he added, though he knew a four or five from Jim Kirk usually meant anything from an eight to a ten.

"Five," Jim mumbled. McCoy glanced at him then, softening his gaze. Jim almost looked embarrassed at the admission.

"It's okay, Jim. We did a lot of traveling today," McCoy assured him. "I'll add a slow drip of a mild pain medication to keep you comfortable. I'll be able to keep an eye on it from my PADD."

Jim's eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks," he whispered.

"I want you to be able to sleep," McCoy said quietly. "And be at ease while I'm gone."

Jim nodded. His eyes were already closing.

"Okay, this will pinch," he explained, although Jim knew very well how this worked.

Nora tucked in another edge of the quilt around Jim's body. Jim was a very tactile person, which was why the quilt at this point in time was a miracle and a perfect distraction. Jim burrowed his face in its softness right before McCoy inserted the needle.

Jim's face practically disappeared under the quilt as McCoy worked. Another moment and he had three lines with fluids or medication coursing into his patient that would continue on through the the next few hours, with his mother's help.

McCoy finished taping the tubing to Jim's arm. He sighed and gently laid Jim's hand back on the quilt. Somehow in the middle of it all, Jim had fallen right to sleep.

McCoy pulled the quilt away from the captain's face. "Needs to be able to breathe, at least," he muttered when his mother cocked her head at him.

"Captain Kirk likes to snuggle with blankets," Eleanora said softly with a smile. "How very sweet."

"If he heard you say that," he warned.

Eleanora's eyes twinkled. "He'd let me say it. Maybe he would get mad at you, but mothers of doctors have privileges." She paused. "I asked Jocelyn if Joanna could stay with us for a few days, knowing Jim was coming. She agreed, and Joanna can come after school."

At that, McCoy's heart couldn't help but burst. It would be just the thing Jim needed. "Thanks, mama," he said and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.

"Mama. You still call me mama," she whispered, smiling. "Something about you being here makes my heart full, but when you bring Jim, it's twice as good."

McCoy led her out of the room and closed the door behind him partway. "He's having a hard time," he said. "Things were...worse than what you've heard in the media."

"They always are," Eleanora mused.

He wished he could explain, but orders were orders. His mother must have seen his hesitation.

"I have a feeling that something beyond my imagination happened, Leonard. I saw both your reaction and Jim's when Jocelyn forgot to use tact, but I won't ask questions. I'm your mother, not a detective," she said gently.

"No matter what happened, he still saved his ship and his crew," he said in a murmur.

"He saved you," she breathed, her eyes getting wet. "I'm honored to help in this way. Whatever you two need, don't hesitate to ask."

"Do what you do best," he said and offered her a small smile. "Listen and give advice when needed."

After giving his mother instructions regarding Jim and the sleeping man one last peek. McCoy walked out of the house and slipped into Jocelyn's hovercraft. His ex was silent as he expected, until the second they'd turned out of Eleanora McCoy's driveway.

"You just can't leave work alone, can you?" She muttered darkly, tapping her manicured hands on the wheel.

"Jim isn't work, Joce," he said, biting back his own accusations.

"He's your patient, a sick patient, obviously, who should be in the hospital, not here in Atlanta, Len," Joce spouted.

"What does it matter to you if I needed to bring a patient with me?" McCoy asked.

He didn't bother to explain that Jim had been released from the hospital but undergoing traumatizing treatments that left him exhausted. Jocelyn knew just as much as anyone else, and McCoy would make certain it stayed that way. Neither did he explain that there was something between himself and Jim that they needed to resolve, and McCoy's hope was that Georgia would fix it.

"I need your complete, undivided attention, Len," she gritted.

"I am giving my complete attention, beginning right now, as you requested. What I do outside that time is my business," McCoy stressed. "I love our daughter, and I came here to discuss her."

If it hadn't been for Jim, for the presence of a Starfleet captain come back from the dead, McCoy had no doubt that he would've lost his cool earlier on the porch. Jim was the only reason he decided to give Jocelyn a chance to explain herself.

"Fine," she said. "We'll talk about it as soon as we get there."

While Jocelyn redirected the conversation, McCoy thought again of Jim, who was moving forward in his recovery although he would swear that he wasn't. Jim was the reason for a lot of things, McCoy decided. Bringing Jim here to Georgia? It was the only thing McCoy could do, to help each other and hopefully, their friendship.

But something told him, that like the situation with his daughter, it might not be as easy as he'd hoped it would be.

He sighed and leaned with his elbow against the door. There was something at the surface, an unspoken, emotional pain that he wanted to heal for Jim but couldn't. The man sleeping at his mother's house simply held it too close to his chest. While he was gone for a few hours, his hope was that somehow, his mother would find a way to begin to do what he and Jim's therapists couldn't - loosen Jim's grasp on the hurt he shouldn't be dealing with alone in the first place.

"Len?"

Jocelyn's sharp tone pulled him back although he was far from being ready to speak with her again. "Yeah," he said in a rough voice.

"It's Jim, isn't it?" She asked.

Something like ice coursed through his veins when he looked over at her. "He's my best friend, Joce. I'd never turn my back on him, never, especially not after what he did for all of us. This has been harder on him than anyone will ever know."

Jocelyn's eyes widened as if she'd forgotten in her own ambition what had been heralded throughout Federation space. Captain Kirk, hero. Captain Kirk, near death.

He felt a grim satisfaction when she didn't speak another word the rest of the way.

Author's Note: Just a small note... In my very first fanfic two years ago, which coincidentally was also for Star Trek, Lenore Karidian played a minor character. In that story, she was kind and a little unsure of herself, though she did show spirit later on in the story. Here, in this verse, I'm going for a vastly different Lenore Karidian. I am placing Lenore on Tarsus at the time Jim was there. I am also inferring in this chapter that sometime later, for one reason or another, Jim and Lenore had some sort of (brief and unstable) relationship. Obviously, Lenore would have been drastically affected by the massacre and her father's actions, hence the insanity Jim recalls, causing him to shiver.

Anyway, it's crazy no matter how you look at it, but this is Jim you're talking about.

Again, many thanks to all of you who are reading/commenting. It is very motivating! I am striving for a quicker update next time! Meanwhile, I really appreciate your patience. :)