Lois regained consciousness without opening her eyes. Her head was pounding, her mouth felt like it had been home to something dead, and she hurt in places she'd forgotten she could hurt. But she wasn't nauseous and her headache felt more like a hangover than a head injury. That was the positive part.

She tested her muscles and discovered her hands were tethered. So were her feet. She was spread-eagled on a bed with only a sheet covering her. After a quick mental appraisal, she realized she was also completely naked beneath that sheet. She searched her memory for an explanation. What bits and pieces she found horrified her. Watching the deadly orgy at the art gallery and Superman trying to help the uncooperative victims. She remembered Nigel Smith spraying her with something and… oh my God…

She tried to swallow, but her throat and mouth were too dry. Please don't let this be as bad as it seems. Dear God…

She slowly opened her eyes – a high vaulted white ceiling. She turned her head slowly – as quietly as she could manage – to look around. She was in the room at the B&B. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Clark was slumped in one of the wing chairs in the window nook, one long leg thrown over the chair arm, his laptop computer open on the little table. He was wearing a t-shirt and he had a quilt over his lap and legs. His chin was resting on his chest, eyes closed, chest rising and falling gently. He looked positively haggard. Considering what her night had to have been like, his had to have been pure hell.

"Uh, Clark…?" Her voice sounded more like a croak. She saw his head come up as he tried to identify the sound. He blinked, owl-like, and finally focused on her.

"Lois? Uh, how are you feeling?"

"Like I'm naked and tied to the bed," she responded and promptly felt guilty at the pain she saw in his face. "And thirsty as hell. Clark, if I promise not to attack you, will you let me loose?"

He untangled himself from the chair and padded over to her. He untied one of her hands. "How much do you remember?" he asked.

"Enough to know you probably saved my life, if not my sanity. We didn't… you know… did we? Not that I would blame you, considering what I do remember. God, I can't believe how… how can you even look at me?"

He shook his head as he undid her other hand and helped her sit up. "We… we didn't go that far," he said. He went to the bathroom sink and filled a glass for her. He handed the glass to her and she guzzled it down greedily.

Clark sat down on the edge of the bed, but his eyes were dark with worry as he watched her. She had the feeling he was about ready to bolt. There were times he was so incredibly wise and knowing and other times, like now, he seemed like a boy trapped in a man's body trying to figure out how everything worked. He was Superman, the near god. He was Clark Kent, the farm boy overwhelmed by the enormity of the world. A study in contradictions.

She waited for him to gather the courage to speak again.

"I knew you weren't in control of yourself, not really," he said finally. "You're not angry?"

"With you? Why should I be?" she asked, untying her feet. "Aside from the fact that you used my good silk stockings to tie me up with and I wasn't awake when you did it."

He turned his face away from her and she was afraid he was embarrassed to see her naked, or maybe he was embarrassed at her comment about preferring to be awake when spread-eagled on a bed. That is downright dumb after last night. I cannot believe what we did last night, assuming I wasn't imagining it. She pulled the sheet up and wrapped it around herself. "Like I said the night we got here, there's nothing here you haven't seen before…" she joked, trying to break through to him. She was reasonably certain the poison was out of her system, but she found herself studying his body underneath the t-shirt and shorts, remembering the sight of his naked body beside hers as they…

She forced herself to breathe slowly. Now wasn't the time to revisit those feelings, but her body wasn't listening to her brain. She needed a shower – a cold shower. She was completely sober and conscious and she wanted to jump him. He looked good. He smelled good. Oh God, he looked good.

He studied his hands, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Clark, what else happened? I didn't run off and start turning tricks, did I?" She was reasonably sure she hadn't, but there were holes in her memories of last night. She did recall leaving the B&B dressed only in her dress and shoes, intent on finding someone, anyone, who would be willing to 'scratch her itch'. She knew Clark had come to her rescue yet again.

He shook his head. "No, but I did tell a couple police officers you were drunk," he said.

"Was I so awful to you…?"

"No, it was kind of flattering, actually," he told her, finally meeting her eyes. "I should be used to people throwing themselves at Superman. I should be, but I'm not really. But I kinda' think maybe you were throwing yourself at Superman and Clark."

"I do recall trying to get somebody out of a red cape and blue tights, and I also remember trying to get my partner out of his pants," she admitted, studying his face. A blush had climbed into his cheeks and she had to force herself not to laugh. "Are you upset that you had to spend last night worrying about me instead of hunting Miller down or tending to a catastrophe somewhere?"

"I like worrying about you, Lois," he said simply. "It's just that I did something… to you."

She did a quick inventory – every thing appeared to be in its correct place and in proper working order. "So what did you do that you're afraid I'll be upset about? Considering what I do remember, I can't begin to imagine what it might be."

"I led you on, for one," he admitted.

"Under the circumstances, I think anything you may have said or done would fall under the category of self-preservation," she told him. "That was 'one'. What was 'two'?"

"I was afraid that if it went on any longer, I would lose control. I was afraid to risk that. I knew we'd end up doing things you wouldn't want. Plus I didn't know how healthy it was for you to stay like you were. How long… You were scaring me," he said. He had gone back to studying his hands again. "I talked the ER doctor into letting me have some of the drugs they were using to treat the other victims. I kind of tricked you into taking them."

She was silent for a long moment, trying to gauge what he meant, what he was feeling. He was good at keeping people at bay, hiding his feelings both as Clark and as Superman. "Clark, I promise you, I'm not angry. You did what you had to do."

"I should have taken you to the hospital when I realized you'd been affected," he said.

"Why didn't you?"

It was his turn to be silent. She watched his mouth pull thin as he considered his answer. Finally he took a deep breath, blowing it out his nose. "Lois, we are the only known witnesses as to what happened. We are the only ones who can positively state that Miranda Miller was orchestrating the perfume being sprayed on the people in the gallery. We're also the only ones who can positively identify Nigel Smith as having been there at the time. If I'd taken you to the hospital, nothing you said about what happened would be believed. Your statement would not be accepted as evidence. In fact, it could be used against you if you were called in the Church trial."

"But you weren't affected," she reminded him. "And you were a witness too."

"But I would have been the only witness," he reminded her. "Well, me and Superman, and he wasn't there when it started. So it becomes my word against hers and maybe Smith's. Hardly good enough to base a court case on."

She moved closer to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He was stiff, muscles like stone. She felt him relax beneath her hand, the muscles of his shoulder softening to a more normal suppleness.

"You want to get cleaned up first, or shall I?" she asked.

Lois and Clark were the only couple seated in a breakfast room. Not surprising considering the time. It was now brunch rather than breakfast. Sunlight streamed though the French doors, playing over the pastel flowered tablecloth and the dark tiles of the floor.

They'd missed breakfast the day before, but looking at the selection on the menu, that had been a definite mistake. Lois knew that the place served an exquisite cup of coffee. The coffee was in porcelain cups instead of mugs this time and the fresh orange juice was served in wine goblets. The first course was fresh strawberries with whipped cream, followed by French toast with fruit compote. Clark ordered the banana pancakes with cashews and caramel sauce.

They split each dish in half so they could share. It was something she and Richard had done frequently. It wasn't something she'd ever done with Clark. She found herself smiling at his bewilderment when she had suggested sharing the different dishes. He was so 'innocent' sometimes.

Her croissant French toast was simply unbelievable. "Do I taste Gran Marnier in here somewhere?" she asked.

"Yep," Clark answered. "And real maple syrup in the fruit."

"Do you think Perry would let us just move in here?"

"I doubt it," Clark told her. He'd finally relaxed enough to chuckle along with her. "But we can take home the recipes."

"Like that would help," Lois joked, spearing the last piece of her French toast. She made a show of savoring it, watching the color rise in Clark's face again. He is so fun to tease.

The third course arrived. The only offering that didn't have meat was the egg puff with artichokes and roasted red peppers served with thick cut 'home fries'. They both chose that.

"You know, Lois, you never have told me why you became a vegetarian," Clark began. She took a bite of her egg puff, savoring it.

"I did a series on the meat industry, and between that, the mad cow scare, and wanting to be a better example for Jason, it seemed the right thing to do," she said, waving her fork around. "You know more methane and greenhouse gases are produced by cows than by cars, and just raising the crops to feed sheep and cattle uses nearly a third of the arable land on the planet. Not to mention that more than a quarter of the Earth's land surface is used for grazing. What about you? Why don't you eat meat?"

Clark shrugged. "It's hard to turn around and eat something that was once living and feeling. It used to drive my grandfather crazy. A kid raised on a farm, raised around cattle, who refused to eat beef."

"Why do I think there's more to it than that?"

"Because there is. I can see the aura that surrounds living things," he explained softly. "It was one of the first things that made me know I was really different. I could see things most other people couldn't. I don't have words to describe it, but it's beautiful, the way it changes, fluctuates. It's almost alive in itself. But when something dies, the aura disappears, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, and what's left is gray and dead and not beautiful at all. Just a mass of chemicals, all ugly and nasty."

He stopped talking and started playing with the food on his plate in much the same way Jason did when he was upset. She waited, knowing he would continue soon enough. She was right.

"When I was about ten, the school bus I was riding on hit a neighbor's dog," Clark continued. "It was nobody's fault. Tim was old, almost blind and nearly deaf. He'd wandered into the road and the bus driver just couldn't stop in time. The other kids just went 'poor thing', and went on to school. Me? I saw Tim trying to get away, trying to make his body work. I saw the light go out, literally, and it was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen. I was so freaked out the school called my parents to take me home for the rest of the day. Scared Mom and Dad half to death. They had no idea what was wrong and I couldn't really explain it."

"Do you think Jason will see these auras too?"

Clark nodded. "He already does. But being a city boy, I don't think he's made the connection yet between meat and things that are alive, yet. Plants have auras too, but they're not nearly as vibrant. I think it has something to do with having a nervous system."

"Oh, the joys of parenthood," Lois said, trying to make her tone light in an attempt to cheer her partner up. "Most parents just have to worry about explaining that the goldfish died and won't just wake up. We have to explain why the goldfish stopped glowing and turned into an ugly bag of chemicals. Clark, is that also why…?"

He nodded. "Power carries with it responsibilities. It doesn't make a lot of sense to cherish life and then take it away just because you can, just because the other person's made some seriously bad choices or has a mental problem."

"Even Luthor?"

He snorted. "I might have made an exception in his case," he admitted. "Except you got there first."

Lois checked her watch. "Maybe we should get going, make our statements, then decide what we're going to do with the rest of our day."

Clark nodded. "I've already sent the first part of the story off to Perry. Did that while you were still asleep. He's holding off on anything that implicates Miller, though. No sign of her yet, but Nigel Smith was spotted at Metropolis International this morning."

"He tried to spray me deliberately, you know," she told him. "He seemed to think I'd just fall into his arms. He was surprised when I didn't, when I took back my cell phone and called 9-1-1."

"Unfortunately, we can't claim he tried to assault you, because if you weren't sprayed with the poison, you can't have been harmed," Clark reminded her.

"Oh, don't worry," Lois told him, finishing her coffee. "Lane and Kent will get him."

"I have no doubt of that," Clark agreed with a chuckle.

The Napa detectives were as efficient as those in Metropolis, although Detective Greer admitted that this was the largest crime they'd ever had to deal with. Napa normally dealt with an average of one murder a year (two in a bad one), twenty-five rapes and around three hundred assaults. Napa wasn't exactly a quiet little burg, but it certainly wasn't as busy as Metropolis.

The murders in the gallery at American Center for Wine, Food and the Arts was going to take most of their resources for some time, even with the aid of the Napa County sheriff's department and the California State Police.

If Greer was impressed at the ease and professionalism with which the two Daily Planet reporters gave their statements, he didn't say it. He curtly dismissed them as soon as they had signed their reports. "Make sure we have a way to contact you," he ordered as they were leaving.

"Pleasant fellow," Lois commented as soon as they were out of the building.

"Our presence coincides with one of the worst crimes in the county's history," Clark reminded her. "One serious enough to get Superman's attention. Not to mention the load it's put on healthcare in the area. The detectives are going to be a little touchy."

"So, what do you want to do today?" she asked.

"Well, in the package Perry got for us, we can have a picnic lunch, a hot air balloon ride and there's horse back riding. And since we're in wine country, we can always tour a winery. I remember seeing some passes in our room for a couple of those. And then they do offer the spa special, aromatherapy massages in the room."

"After last night, I'm not sure those are a good idea," Lois commented. "Then again…" She grinned at him, marching her fingers up his chest.

"Uh, Lois, are you sure you're okay?" Clark asked. He was blushing again. "I mean, you're acting a little…?"

"I'm fine," she told him. "It's just that last night reminded me of something I haven't had in a long time."

"Oh?"

"Oh, don't worry so much Clark. What happens in Napa stays in Napa," she said with a little laugh. She watched him out of the corners of her eyes as they walked down the sidewalk side by side. She grabbed his hand, noticing how his body stiffened then relaxed at her touch. "I was wondering, though, what would it take to make you say 'yes'?"

He stopped and looked down at her, hesitation, worry, in his blue eyes. "You're teasing me again," he said flatly.

"No, I'm not," she assured him. "You're the most honorable man I know. So I want to know, what would it take?"

His dark eyelashes seemed frozen as he stared at her. "A wedding ring. My ring on your hand."

"Oh, I see," she murmured. She wasn't really surprised at his answer. Only surprised that he'd finally admitted it to her. He stopped walking and took his hand back. She looked back to see him staring at his shoes, hands in his pockets.

"I shouldn't have said that," he said, so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "Now I've ruined everything again. It's too soon. And…"

She wondered if he was talking to himself or to her. She wondered if he knew which one. Lois put one finger under his chin and raised his head, looking into his eyes. "Clark, you're babbling," she intoned, fighting to keep from smiling at him.

"I am?" His eyes went wide as he thought about it. "I am."

"Uh huh." She slipped her arm through his and urged him to start moving again. "You know, Reno's only about two hundred miles from here."

He stopped again. "Lois, please don't tease me like that."

"Who's teasing?" she asked. This time she couldn't hold back and started giggling as his mouth dropped open in complete astonishment.

"There's a jewelry store right there," she continued cheerily. "Reno's a hop, skip, and a jump away, and I will do anything to keep my mother from getting involved in my wedding plans, up to and including grabbing Superman's cute ass and making him fly me off to… someplace like this."

"I thought you hated small towns."

"Napa isn't exactly a small town. It has seven Starbucks," she told him. "So, are we going to Reno?"

"Lois, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. His eyes were dark with worry again. "I mean, are you sure it's not the poison still talking? I can understand…"

"Clark, you've already left me once, and it hurt like hell 'cause I couldn't do anything about it," she told him, her eyes searching his face. "More than once I've come too close to losing you, even if I didn't know it was you at the time. I don't want to go through that again…" She felt him pull away and she grabbed his arm. "I don't want to go through that again," she repeated, "but I know that's a risk I have to take. It's a risk we both have to take. I want you. I need you. I'm not going to let you go this time."

"There's one thing you didn't say…" he said. There was an ineffable sadness in his voice.

A song came into her mind. I want you, I need you, but there ain't no way I'm ever gonna' love you… "I want you, I need you, and yes, I love you, Clark Kent."

"I love you, Lois Lane. Will you marry me?"

"I thought you'd never ask." She pulled him down into a sensual, devouring, soul-searing kiss, completely ignoring the fact that they were still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. "That meant 'yes', by the way."

"Uh, maybe we'd better get moving," he said. "Otherwise we're going to get arrested for indecent exposure."

The nearest jeweler had suitable rings – simple gold bands in sizes for each of them.

"Are you sure you don't want an engagement ring, too?" Clark asked.

"I had one of those. And I wore if far longer than I probably should have," she told him. "But the important one is this one. This is the one I intend to wear for the rest of my life."

Surprisingly, there wasn't much of a wait at the Reno Marriage Bureau office. They even took credit cards. Fifty-five dollars and five minutes for the paper work. The Civil Marriage office was all of four blocks away. $50.00, first come first serve, no appointment necessary.

It was over almost before it began.

"If I'd known it was this easy, I would have made us come here before heading up to the ice palace last time," Lois chuckled, inspecting the gold band on her finger.

"But my dear Missus Kent, we hardly knew each other then," Clark joked back. He was having a hard time believing it was all real. He was afraid he would wake up and it would all be a dream.

"And did that stop us?" Lois shot back with a grin. "And I'm not changing my name."

"I didn't expect you would."

"And I'm still top banana."

"I do remember you like to be on top."

"You are incorrigible," she laughed.

"I've been taking lessons from the best," he laughed back. "And I think we'd better get back to our room before we get in trouble for indecent exposure."

"Pity we have to fly back to Metropolis Sunday," she said. "Maybe we can talk Perry into giving us another week?"

"I seriously doubt it."

"Then we'd better enjoy it while we can."

This time she was conscious and in control of herself – at least she was reasonably sure she was. She was married, to Clark. It was something she'd had tumbling around the back of her mind even before she realized that Clark Kent was Superman. Superman had been a fantasy – the perfect man, a god, someone to be adored but never bedded. To bring him to the level of mere mortals was to clip an angel's wings. Gods should not be forced to walk on earth.

Clark, on the other hand – she needed him and he needed her in ways no other man had. Despite a quiet reserve that some people mistook for timidity, he was one of the few men who had ever stood up to her professionally and personally, even though most of the time he needed a keeper. It didn't hurt that he was eminently beddable.

But was being married to Clark a good thing for Clark? Half an hour ago she would have said yes without any hesitation. Now? It wasn't exactly second thoughts, but had the poison clouded her thinking before? She had convinced herself that they both needed more time to grieve for Richard. Time to put their lives back together after everything that happened in the weeks after Superman returned to Metropolis after an absence of more than five years. Time for Jason to get used to the fact that Clark, rather than Richard, was his real father.

In an instant she had thrown all of her rationally thought out plans and concerns away. Was she going to clip an angel's wings in her desperation to have him with her?

They landed among the tall trees behind the inn and Superman changed back into Clark once again.

"A penny for your thoughts," Clark offered, pushing his glasses up his nose in that familiar way of his. He took her hand and led the way to the path out of the trees.

"I doubt they're worth that much," Lois admitted. "I'm just wondering what I did to deserve you."

"Lois, you are brilliant, domineering, uncompromising, pig-headed, and beautiful," he told her.

"You left out arrogant," she said. "Remember, you're talking to the woman who won a Pulitzer for telling Superman, loudly and publicly, that she didn't need him. That the world didn't need him."

"I haven't forgotten," Clark told her. "Never apologize for being right."

She stopped, placing a hand on his chest, studying his face again. He was so earnest, so innocent – not a child's inexperience, but the purity of spirit that insisted the world was a good place and that virtue really was something to be sought after, fought for. "Clark, I just want you to know that I'm still jealous of the world for having Superman at its beck and call," she said. His forehead creased in a frown once again.

"Luckily, I married you instead of him," she added and was gladdened when his expression cleared.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. He knew her too well. They'd managed to miss lunch in all the flurry.

"Yes," she said. "And I think there are a couple gift certificates upstairs for local restaurants."

Dinner at the Ristorante Allegria over on First and Main was excellent, even though they didn't have much in the way of vegetarian dishes. The zinfandel was nice as well, rich and lively with a slightly acidic finish.

The gift certificate didn't quite cover the entire meal. "My turn," Lois announced, handing over her credit card.

"Now what?" Clark asked as soon as they were out of the restaurant.

"Well, you did promise me something…" she reminded him with a smirk.

"Did I?" This was a game two could play, although he knew she had far more experience and flair at it.

"Yes, you did," she said, taking his elbow as they walked back to the B&B. "And I expect to hold you to it."

She hadn't been a virgin the first time she and Clark made love in the crystal fortress so many years before.

The 'honor' of her 'deflowering' had gone to a boy named Paul. He was the editor of the student newspaper at Columbia. He was a senior, already accepted to the graduate school of his choice, while she was a sophomore, although she was on the president's list for the third time in a row and she knew she'd get it a fourth time as well.

She'd had such a school girl crush on him. He was tall and blond with Aryan good looks. When he offered to take her out drinking and dancing after putting the paper to bed late one Friday night, she had gladly accepted. She hadn't told him she was a virgin and doubted it would have made a difference if she had.

Neither of them had been exactly sober when they made it back to his apartment. His roommates were gone for the weekend, scoping out the campuses were they would attend school the next year.

She was nervous and tried not to show it. She'd read the books, more out of curiosity that anything else. She knew the biology. She at least had an idea of what to expect.

His mouth was hard and rough when he kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue, then sticking it in her mouth. She hadn't expected that, but went along with it anyway. It was interesting. Paul was already hard when pushed her into his room and pulled his trousers down. She'd started giggling when she saw it pop out of his pants, more out of nervousness than anything else. Her reading hadn't really prepared her for the reality before her.

He hurriedly unzipped the back of her dress, pulling it down over her hips. She pushed her panties down and kicked them away, lying back on his bed, watching him. She was naked in his room, her nipples puckering up from the chill. Paul was wearing his shirt and hadn't taken his socks off.

"Oh, shit, where's the condom?" he was muttering to himself. He found it and she watched him roll the latex down his shaft. He pushed her legs apart.

She'd read the first time might be painful, but it wasn't, really. She simply wondered where the pleasure was as he thrust into her. She could actually taste the latex of the condom on her breath. She felt him shudder, his breath fast and hard, sweat glistening on his face. He pulled out of her with out a word and padded to the bathroom in stocking feet.

She heard the toilet flush and he came back, picking up her clothes and handing them to her.

"I'd give you a ride home, but Joe's got my car," he told her.

"I'll be okay," she told him, pulling on her dress and panties. "I'll see you Monday at the paper?"

"Sure."

But that Monday, Paul had walked into the newspaper arm and arm with Lois's roommate, Linda King. She was devastated by and swore to never be taken in by a man again.

Claude Roberge had fooled her. He'd come to the Daily Planet from a paper in Quebec and was suave, sophisticated. He'd traveled the world and to a woman just beginning her career at a major newspaper, it was like meeting James Bond in the flesh. And he had said he loved her, loved her spark, her intelligence. And she had believed him, flattered by his attention.

He had wined and dined her, taking her to the theater, to concerts. They talked about life and work over dinner and wine. Lois was working on a major story on issues with the food procurement in the New Troy prison system. She'd done her homework, had her sources, her evidence. She had finished the article and was just waiting for one additional confirmation of her facts before turning it in to Perry White. It would be her first published investigation.

Claude had taken her back to her apartment. She'd wanted to make love to him. He was older, more experienced, someone to learn from. He'd started by kissing her breasts, massaging them with his hands. His hands were surprisingly dainty for a man his size. He had explored her body, laid her gently on her bed, but she had the sense he wasn't really interested.

His lovemaking had been slow and languorous, teasing, tempting. But she felt very little as he thrust against her. It didn't hurt. It just didn't do anything for her. And he made no attempt to make it more interesting for her.

He seemed disappointed when he left her apartment. She fell asleep alone, crying. The next morning she discovered her article and her notes were missing. Claude had turned her story into Perry with his name on it and there was nothing she could do about it.

Then she found out what Claude had said about her, making sure every one in the newsroom knew that he'd 'taken' her the night before. He also made sure they knew she was frigid, unable to enjoy sex between a man and a woman. He told them in the most unflattering terms that he thought she was an emasculating dyke.

Claude was gone from the Planet the next day. Later she found out that while Perry had been unable to change the byline on the story Claude had stolen from her, he could fire him for sexual harassment, for telling tales about her. It didn't make her feel any better.

Her sister Lucy had told her once that she had interviews, not dates. The problem was that Lois couldn't tell the difference.

Then Lois met Superman, a god come to Earth from another planet. He was beautiful, unattainable, and he seemed to like her in a tantalizingly impersonal way.

That same day she had Clark Kent thrust into her life. He was tall, good-looking in a geeky sort of way, despite the fact that he was so shy and nervous that he tripped over his own feet. Perry had been impressed by his credentials as well by his talents.

While Superman wowed and wooed the city, the world, Clark Kent had slowly, gently, inexorably wooed Lois Lane. Not with flowers or jewelry, but with cups of coffee when she was dragging, pizza, hot dogs and take-out from places Lois had never heard of. He listened to her, followed her lead, and protected her even though she hadn't known it at the time.

When she finally realized the sweet, self-effacing fellow sitting at the desk opposite hers was also Superman, she was elated, triumphant. He was terrified. Of her, of them.

He turned out to be the gentlest, kindest lover she had ever hoped to find. And, contrary to her expectations, she had responded to his touch, finding ecstasy she had only read about, only imagined.

And now, here, he was hers.

A/N: Paul and Claude were introduced in Lois & Clark.

Real life is coming up fast so it may be a while before I finish this. But I will. Also. if you want the complete MA version, email me (assuring me you are over 18) and I will send along nfic copy.