It was not desire that forced Leila to the Brightside Shopping Center, but rather necessity. Her mother had been harping on her for an entire week about the upcoming Casino Night fundraiser at Gotham Municipal Hospital, reminding her, urging her, imploring her to go purchase a dress to wear to the event, using very careful phrasing to note that many young, wealthy bachelors would be in attendance. Although she was careful not to convey it in her body language or verbal replies, Leila viewed the entire affair with a high level of contempt and was grumbling aloud to herself as she climbed begrudgingly out of her car at the far end of the mall's parking lot.

"-stupid...I shouldn't even be going...I won't know anyone.. stand there like an idiot..."

Fortunately, the weather had managed to cool down during the past week, making her long trek to the front doors a little less unbearable than it had been on prior trips. August was rapidly approaching, which Leila knew to be a good thing. Less humidity and cooler temperatures were prime conditions for her hair, although that didn't really matter anymore; she was now making plenty of money to visit the salon on a regular basis. Her stomach churned at this idea but she pushed through it, even going so far as to shake her head slightly. Distracting, paranoia-inducing thoughts of her 'boss' could not be allowed, not while she was on a mission. It already difficult enough to sleep at night; she could not permit the fear of him to invade her day-to-day activities.

Immediately upon stepping through the front doors of the shopping center, Leila felt a flood of regret surge through her. Irritated, weary brown eyes took in the masses of shop-goers scuttling here and there, laden heavily with their purchases and she sighed, wondering how she had managed to procrastinate this badly. The fundraiser was the following night and her mother had already warned her that bad things would surely come her way if she did not show up dressed to impress. Gritting her teeth and deciding that she would visit one store, Leila moved forward into the rushing throngs, patting the left strap of her bra to be sure the small black phone was there.

It had been one week, one solid, blissfully quiet week since her last encounter with the man she now hated more than any other person walking the Earth. For days following the incident at the garage, Leila had been through a tumultuous range of emotions, stemming from his one, relatively small act of pulling her further onto his lap, forcing her to feel something that had both surprised and repulsed her. She had been through guilt, anger, even some odd, misplaced sense of curiosity, all mingled with an underlying feeling of shame. Several times over the past month of encounters with him, Leila had noted to herself how bizarre she found his more natural traits, such as the goosebumps coating his skin, the fact that his blood ran red, even down to the trail of hair beneath his navel. However, not only seeing but feeling his erection pushing against her more private areas through her uniform pants had been the ultimate display of just how human he was. He had stared at her, teeth gritted tight, watching her, drinking in every drop of emotion displayed on her face. And Leila had stared back, unable to look away, despite how badly she wanted to. There was something in the darkness of his eyes, something deep and intense, something not entirely sexual, but rather primal, raw, so powerful that merely reliving that instant in time sent fresh ripples of fear and apprehension down her spine. She hoped to never see that expression in his face again; it was too hungry.

As expected, the one store she had selected to visit was absolutely packed to overflowing with men and women around her age, some clutching the hands of small children, all of whom seemed determined to make the most amount of noise possible. Normally, Leila was not averse to crowds or unexpected screeches, but there was something about the whole affair that was rubbing her the wrong way. With her eyes trained on the back racks of the store where the clearance items were hung, she gently shouldered her way through the people, mumbling 'excuse me's' and 'sorry's' as she went.

It was without really seeing them that Leila began flipping through the hanging clothes, her face expressionless and flat as she idly paused every few seconds to stare vacantly at a particular dress or top. Some were too flashy, some were too plain, but not a single one caught her eye as something she would want to wear to the fund raiser. Shopping for clothes was never something she had been crazy about, though a few weeks ago, she could remember wishing beyond anything she could go to the mall and spend money. However, now that she was there, with plenty of money to buy herself a nice outfit, she could think of about twenty different places she would rather be at that moment in time. The grass is always greener right? With a heavy sigh, she shifted to the other side of the rack, hoping and praying something would jump out at her.

The metal hooks on the hangers slid across the rack with a grating 'shing', repetitive, annoying, as she passed several pink dresses in succession, thinking that she would rather be dead than show up to a somewhat formal event in fuchsia. That could probably be arranged, she thought miserably, allowing herself a quiet, mirthless laugh as she pushed a forest green top out of her way.

"Hmm," contemplated a sudden male voice from beside her. "You don't think green would look nice on you?"

Chills crept up and down her arms as a split second of panic flowed over her. There was no way. He could not be here...not in such a crowded place...Leila blinked. No, the voice was wrong. It was familiar, but not clowny and obnoxious the way his was. Turning her head to the right, she gasped when she found a pair of wonderfully blue, immediately recognizable eyes blinking at her, wrinkled slightly in the corners with his smile.

"MATT!" she nearly shouted as she threw her arms around his neck, her utter happiness to see a friend amongst all the strangers making it seem as though she had not worked an eight hour shift with him only the night before. "What are you doing here?"

Matt shrugged, glancing over his shoulder as he motioned toward the men's half of the store with his thumb. "Same thing you are, I'm betting," he answered. "Getting something to wear to the Casino Night tomorrow."

Leila rolled her eyes heavily, nodding as she swatted aimlessly at the dresses next to her. "Yep, same here," she said dismally, but then hesitated. Her entire countenance brightened a moment later and a weight lifted from inside her as she realized what he had said. "Wait, you're going to that?"

He nodded, smiling as she heaved a breath of relief. "Yeah, my buddy, Mark, is a nurse on the cardiac surgery wing and told me I should come check it out. I'm guessing your dad invited you to go?"

A loud 'tut' of a laugh escaped Leila as she turned toward the hanging dresses again. "More like 'making' me go," she corrected Matt, flipping back a few hangers to the satiny green top he had commented on when he first walked up. "Hey!" she suddenly exclaimed, looking up at her coworker. "If you're going, we should go together! I won't know anyone besides my parents and-" Long before she had finished her sentence, Leila felt her heart sink.

Matt's face had formed a carefully apologetic expression and he fidgeted awkwardly with a price tag on the sleeve of the dress closest to him. "Well, I'm kinda already bringing Melissa..." he answered slowly, but Leila was already nodding.

"The M.E, right?" she asked, only for the sake of steering the conversation away from how pathetic she was going to look showing up to the event alone.

Matt was quick to reply, and with more enthusiasm than Leila thought was absolutely necessary. He must have felt sorry for her. "Yeah, but I mean...you're going to be there and it's not like I can't talk to you with her there," he argued, laughing. "So you can hang out with Melissa and I, plus Mark is bringing a girl too so-"

Leila smiled, nodding, but had to wonder if Matt really thought he was making her feel better by saying all that.

…...

The normally bustling hospital was absolutely roaring with activity as Leila walked through the darkening, crowded parking lot, her feet already aching within the confines of her tall heels. Expensive cars filled the spaces, glimmering black limousines lined the narrow surrounding streets, their occupants dressed in their finest evening wear, shining and sparkling with ornate, gaudy jewelry and cufflinks. It was the very definition of pretentious and even before getting out of her modest Camry, she had formulated a plan of escape, plotting a perfectly timed 'phone call' to save her from the hassle of meeting and greeting a bunch of people she did not know.

However, there was one small silver lining, she reminded herself, glancing down at her satiny, green top to smooth out a wrinkle from her seat belt. Matt was going to be there. True, he would have a date but if it came down to a worst case scenario, Leila could simply hover around the couple, perhaps strike up a very involved conversation...Assuming, of course, that she was not about to be dragged around by her mother all evening.

As the automatic, sliding doors opened, a completely transformed hospital was revealed to her, the entire lobby having been made to look like the inside of a swanky casino. High-top poker tables, roulette wheels and Black Jack bars littered the concourse as far as her eye could see, rich older men in crisp black tuxedos crowded around each of them, chattering loudly and sipping on drinks, placing massive, 'for charity' bets. Women in long, elegant dresses were scattered through the room, clutching wine glasses and champagne flutes, laughing politely or otherwise silently comparing themselves to one another. Leila glanced down at her tight, knee-length pencil skirt and green top, cursing inwardly; she knew she would be under dressed. Great, Mom's gonna have a field day... she thought, looking around nervously. Any moment, she was sure to hear-

"LEILA!" Came her mother's characteristic squeal from her left. Turning and hitching a smile to her face, she spotted Cindy Hawkin, dressed to the nines in a long, admittedly beautiful black dress. She was holding her arms wide, one hand gripping the stem of a champagne glass, her face beaming radiantly as her daughter approached. "I'm so glad you came! Your father will be delighted!"

Leila nodded, smiling, noting privately how funny she found the way her mom tried to appeal to her wealthy friends by using a more garish vocabulary. "Of course I came!" she replied, forcing a brighter note into her tone as she leaned in to peck Cindy on the cheek. Lowering her voice and glancing sideways at the snotty-looking woman on her right, she murmured, "You told me you'd kill me if I didn't, remember?"

Cindy let out a very squeal-like laugh, flashing her daughter a warning look as the two women leaned away from their short embrace. "Well, I don't know where your dad went! He was just here a minute ago..." she exclaimed, glancing around in a clear effort to steer the focus away from what Leila had just said in her ear. "Anyway, do you remember Catherine?" she then asked, motioning to the woman with whom she had previously been speaking and whom Leila thought had the expression of a person who had recently smelled something distasteful.

Leila spared a charming smile and extended her hand, shaking her head politely. "I can't say I do, but it's nice to meet you!"

Catherine took her hand, giving her a very wimpy, limp shake as she forced a lame attempt at a grin onto her sharp features. "Catherine Teufel," she introduced herself haughtily, as though the very mention of her name should strike awe and respect into the heart of anyone in the room. "It's been a long time since we've met, so I wouldn't expect you to remember me. I think you were only about sixteen." A simpering, fake laugh followed her words, sending a wave of uncharacteristic repulsion down Leila's spine. Why did these people bother her so much? Weren't her own parents considered members of this tier of society?

"Well, that explains it," Leila answered, giving her own fake chuckle. "I haven't been sixteen for a longtime."

From the loud laugh Cindy gave off and the way she had just gripped her elbow, Leila could tell she had said something stupid, but at the moment, cared very little. "Excuse us, Catherine, I'm going to try and find Ed before he gambles away a fortune!" More forced laughter filled the air as her mother steered her away, her expression and giggles faltering immediately once they had moved out of ear shot. "Leila, what are you wearing?" she asked in a low voice, turning her head this way and that, searching for her husband as the two women squeezed through the crowds and gambling tables. "Didn't I tell you to get a dress?"

Leila shrugged, again casting a downward glance at her obviously understated attire. "I couldn't find one!" she lied. "I thought this would be fine."

A huff of annoyance hissed from between Cindy's teeth. "Fine for a job interview maybe, not for a formal charity event-"

"Leila!"

Her heart leaped. She knew that voice, and if there was one person who did not care what she was wearing, it was her father. Turning and wrenching her arm away from Cindy's grip, a genuine smile found her face at last; Edward Hawkin was walking toward them, his dark-skinned face beaming and his hands extended to take those of his daughter.

"Hey, Daddy," she breathed in relief, leaning up slightly to kiss him on the cheek. "Please tell Mom that my outfit is fine. She won't stop going on about it-"

Cindy tutted, stepping over to her husband's side. "I barely said anything. I just asked why she hadn't worn a dress-" Her voice faded as Edward calmly held up a hand.

"Cindy, dear..." He began, once his wife had quieted and Leila grinned, loving the way her dad's deep voice took on that familiar tone of authority. "She looks fine. Leave it alone." He turned, displaying his dazzling white teeth as he patted his daughter on the shoulder lightly. "Besides, I'm just glad you decided to come! Do you want something to drink?"

"No," Leila declined, shaking her head and placing a highly apologetic expression on her face. "I don't plan on staying that long."

"Ah, well, that's alright," Edward assured her, reaching out to take her hand in his much larger one. "Come, I want you to meet a few people."

Despite whatever happiness she had felt upon seeing her father, this was exactly the reason she had been hesitant to show up to the event in the first place; she had never finished medical school, a rather embarrassing fact Edward did not mind sharing with whoever would listen. Whenever she asked him, pleaded with him not to tell his colleagues and friends about her failure, he merely shook his head and waved his hand, assuring her that it was nothing to be ashamed of...even though, to that day, he liked to remind her of what she had missed out on by dropping out. There was always a carefully disguised but unmistakable hint of disappointment in his voice that Leila could not get past. As she followed him, she noticed her cheeks were beginning to ache from the fraudulent smile she had adopted the moment the doors had slid open.

A small group of older white men were standing nearby, holding glasses of amber brown liquor and looking as though it was no extraordinary thing to lose a few thousand dollars that night. As Edward walked up, they turned to see who was approacing and smiled once they noticed that their friend had returned to the discussion. Leila could not help but notice the way their judgmental gazes flickered down over her outfit. She struggled against the urge to roll her eyes. Yeah...I'm under dressed. Get over it.

"Ah, Edward, this must be Leila!" one of the men spoke before she could be introduced, shifting his glass of scotch from one hand to the other so he could reach out for a shake. "We've heard so much about you. It's a pleasure to finally put a face with the name!" Leila extended her hand, but remained quiet while her father spoke.

"Leila, this is Dr. Markenson, head of the cardiac unit," he said, inclining his head slightly and motioning to the man who had just spoken. "And this is-"

On around the half-ring of doctors, Leila was introduced, enduring much hand-shaking and 'nice to meet you's', her attention drifting in and out as her desire to be elsewhere reached a peak. She had yet to locate Matt and his date and was wondering in disappointment if perhaps they had decided not to attend, when she heard her mentioned.

"So, Leila, what do you do for work? Your father mentioned something about medical school not working out. What did you end up doing?" Dr. Markenson asked, his aged face reading plainly of the fact that he did not necessarily find his inquiry rude, which made Leila question whether she was simply too sensitive.

Once again, she hitched her most cordial smile in place, ignoring a twitch of protest from the muscles along her cheekbone. "I'm a paramedic with the Gotham fire department," she replied, dripping as much pride into her voice as possible. The surprised look on the doctors' faces seemed to portray that they had picked up on this.

"A noble profession indeed!" Dr. Markenson said, raising his glass in her direction; some random, rather alarming wave of irritation made Leila want to smack the tumbler out of his hand. She cleared her throat, blinking a few times as she looked off into the crowds. What is wrong with me?

At that moment, Leila felt her stomach flip with excitement when her eyes fell onto the side profile of her saving grace, standing across the large room at the bar, raising a frosty bottle of beer to his lips and looking as awkward as she felt. Turning quickly back to her father's colleagues, she interrupted.

"Excuse me, but I just saw my friend."

Without waiting for any sort of reply or dismissal, she walked away, not sparing a single thought to whether they found her departure abrupt or rude. Matt was there and if anyone in that hospital could help put her at ease, it was him.

"Hey!" she exclaimed once she had gotten close enough to speak without having to shout. The smile on her face had finally transformed from something forced, to a natural display of happiness.

Matt turned his head and gave a start, choking on a swig of beer, and swallowing hard as he motioned at her with one hand. "Hey! I was wondering where you were!" he answered, clearing his throat.

Leila rolled her eyes with a sigh, not altogether surprised to find how much more relaxed she felt in the presence of a friend. "Yeah, Dad was putting me through my paces and Mom was bitching about my outfit like it's a burlap sack," she explained, jerking a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her parents and grinning when Matt let out a snort of a laugh from behind the mouth of his beer bottle. "Where's Melissa?" Leila then asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she leaned to the side as though expecting to find the petite blonde hiding behind him.

He shrugged, his blue eyes flickering up to the ceiling. "She got called into work tonight. Couldn't make it," he answered, sliding his free hand into the pocket of his black slacks where she was almost positive he was gripping his phone, hoping to feel it vibrate with a text from the medical examiner.

Leila felt another layer of apprehension peel away, though she maintained a remorseful expression as she clicked her tongue behind her teeth. "Aw, that sucks, I was looking forward to meeting her," she said, glancing over her shoulder to check where her mom was. If both she and Matt were there without dates, keeping her champagne-tainted mother away from them was crucial. Awkward, embarrassing questions from Cindy was truly the last thing Leila needed.

For a while, the colleagues stood at the small bar, Matt sipping his beer, Leila finally giving in to a glass of white wine, chatting and laughing between themselves as they commented on different guests at the event. At one point, he had pointed discreetly across the room at an older blonde woman in a black dress, saying how absolutely gorgeous she was and how he would love nothing better than to have a woman like that, even going so far as to wonder aloud whether he might be able to get her to come home with him. Leila was still squinting over at the Black Jack table he had motioned to, attempting to locate the woman he had been describing when she realized-

"That's my mom," she grumbled, rolling her eyes as she took a hearty swig of her wine and Matt doubled slightly in laughter. "You're a pervert."

It might have been the fact that she had not been seen in a while, or the fact that she was standing there next to her attractive friend, laughing and joking lightheartedly, but as Leila noticed the object of Matt's recent joke approaching them, beaming, she turned quickly to the bar, looking over at him with widened eyes. "She's coming over here," she murmured, tipping her head back and hastily swallowing the rest of her wine in one. "Whatever she says, I'm sorry ahead of time. She's-"

"Hey, you two!" Cindy called, waving one heavily jeweled hand in a silly up and down motion as she drew to within a few feet of the pair. "Matt, it's so nice to see you again! I'm so glad you could make it!" she squealed, hugging him lightly as though she, personally, had invited him. Leila gritted her teeth in the back of her mouth, praying to whatever god she believed in that her mother would keep her malformed ideas of budding romance to herself. She loved her mom, honestly, she did. But damn, she could be embarrassing.

Matt leaned down slightly to return Mrs. Hawkin's light hug, smiling that eternally charming grin of his as he pulled back. "It's nice to see you again too!" he gushed, lacing a heavy dose of sincerity into his voice. Leila noticed his ears turning a bit pink, likely from the joke he had made only a few minutes prior. She withheld a giggle. "And I'm glad to see you're feeling better, too!"

Leila's smile disappeared abruptly, along with all of her internal organs, as a politely confused expression formed on her mother's face. "Sorry? Feeling better?" Cindy asked, cocking her head to the side in a very ditsy sort of way.

"Uh- He means-" Leila cut in, shaking her head and giving a dismissive wave of her hand, hoping to diffuse the sudden tension and play to her mother's empty champagne glass. "You know, that migraine you had the other day? I was telling the guys at work about it, you know..."

Matt turned to look at Leila, arching an eyebrow in obvious bewilderment. Her stomach clenched; this was going from bad to worse with dizzying rapidity. "No, I'm talking about the food poisoning," he corrected, staring at the side of her face while she blinked stupidly, feeling remarkably like she was about to faint. She had never been so helplessly caught in a lie before. Luckily, Matt seemed sense this, took it in stride and instead of pushing the issue, simply shrugged, displaying his sparkling smile once again. "Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Either way, it's nice to see you, Mrs. Hawkin."

After a few minutes of carefully tiptoeing through a conversation with Matt and her mother, Leila had finally managed to catch a break and was stepping outside onto the pavement beyond the sliding doors with Matt. She exhaled heavily, finally feeling as though she could breathe, but also painfully aware that any moment, he was going to ask-

"So, that wasn't your mom calling with food poisoning last week, was it?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against a pillar, grinning as Leila fidgeted awkwardly with a button on her shirt, looking remarkably like a child in trouble for stealing a piece of candy.

It had been obvious from the beginning that eventually, she would be caught in this lie and yes, she would feel horrible for it, just as she had when she had first done it. A very strong part of her felt compelled to tell Matt everything, even call her parents outside and tell them every single thing that had happened over the past month, how the Joker had cornered her, bribed and manipulated her into accepting a job that would likely end her life. She wanted to tell them how the money had been her motivation, beg them to see that she had accepted it out of fear for her own life and theirs as well. Her father would be upset, her mother would likely cry and Matt would stand there with a stunned, horrified look on his face making Leila feel, if possible, even worse than she did lying to them in the first place. No, she had to play along, keep at it. She could not go back to living in poverty, especially not when so many lives were at risk by doing so.

She shook her head solemnly, lifting only her eyes to look over at him. "No," she admitted sheepishly. "Please don't tell Jay or Mitchell?"

Across from her, Matt frowned, tossing his hands in the air and allowing them to slap against his legs. "Would I do that?" he asked rhetorically, causing Leila to grin at his helpfulness as she focused on crushing a random leaf on the concrete with the pointed heel of her shoe. "But if that wasn't your mom calling, and you had to leave so suddenly-" Her head snapped up so quickly that her already loose hairstyle gave a precarious wobble, her eyes widening as she looked over at him, her stomach suddenly full of knots. "-then who was it?"

Faking an itch underneath the loose, carefully constructed bun at the back of her head, Leila tried to look as nonchalant as possible as she allowed her eyes to roll upward toward the carport overhead. "Someone that needed my immediate help," she answered after a few moments, not purposely choosing to be vague, but at the moment, she was otherwise unable to come up with a good answer. A stab of regret caught her somewhere around the middle when Matt's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Who though?" he urged her, taking a step closer out of what she could only assume was curiosity. When Leila did not immediately answer, he gasped as though something had recently dawned on him and he pointed one finger at her, grinning cheekily. "You do have a new boyfriend, don't you?!"

For a split second, Leila weighed her options. On one hand, she could tell yet another lie, say yes, and have all of her mysterious and often poorly timed phone calls accounted for. While on the other, she could say no and give both Matt and Jay reason to continue growing suspicious, prying into the deepest parts of her personal life for information, until they finally found the ugly, grease-painted truth. There was no question which option she ought to go with, so she nodded, grinning halfheartedly when Matt laughed and clapped his hands together in triumph.

"But you have to swear not to tell Jay!" she added hastily, holding up one finger in his face while he continued to chuckle. "I mean it, Matt! Don't tell him or he'll never let me live it down."

Taking a step away toward the doors, he shook his head, continuing to laugh as he checked his reflection in the highly polished glass. "Don't worry, I won't say anything," he replied consolingly. "I just think it's funny that you tried so hard to hide it from us, like-"

At that moment, both Leila and Matt suddenly looked at each other when the shrill, high-pitched ringing of a cell phone interrupted the conversation, splitting the night air like a tiny fog horn. Her stomach sank down to her ankles and familiar fear bubbled at the pit of her stomach as she quickly fumbled to open the clasp on her clutch handbag. She had not heard that horrible sound in over a week but her reaction was as crisp and alert as always; her heart was suddenly racing. Holding up a finger, she rolled her eyes to, once again, make it seem as though answering this call was more of an annoyance than a call to action.

"Hello?" she answered only once she had taken a step away from Matt, who was watching her, still grinning with a twinkle in his eye, obviously assuming that this was her supposed 'new boyfriend' calling.

There was rustling, crackling of a noise like static in her ear, followed by a distant moan, echoing as though the sound had originated in a very large room. Then, a hated voice could be heard, sending a thrill of foreboding, crushing anxiety throughout Leila's body. She took another cautionary step away from Matt, to prevent him from hearing the clowny, unmistakable tone.

"Got a little uh-" the Joker paused to clear his throat, sounding strangely winded. "-situation here, Doc." There was more rustling, followed by a loud shout of pain, and more distant voices in the background.

Leila frowned, pausing before she answered, to listen to the ambient noises, hoping to get some sort of idea of what was happening, since the odds of Joker divulging that information over the phone seemed particularly slim. There was a rusty, oddly familiar groan of a door opening before a deafening shout into the speaker caused her to jump.

"HELLO?!"

"Sorry!" she squealed, shaking her head and attempting to focus her attention on what she needed to ask and how she needed to ask it while in the presence of her colleague. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder to find Matt distracted by his reflection in the window again, she continued, more quietly. "Where do you need me? Your, uh- house?"

"No, that's too far," Joker replied quickly, followed by more of the static-like noise, which Leila realized was the sound of the speaker of his phone brushing against the fabric of his clothing. Goosebumps washed over her; there was no clowniness to his voice, only business with perhaps a slight edge of urgency. Was the 'situation' really that dire?

Frowning in confusion and holding the phone between her ear and shoulder to begin digging her keys from the tiny confines of the clutch bag, she asked, "Where then?"

"I'm already at your place," came a swift, raspy response. "Get here, now."

Click.

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A/N: A long wait. I suck.

BUT ANYWAYS, believe it or not, chapter 14 is already half-written and IT IS A DOOZY. So the wait will not be nearly as long for the next one, I PROMISE! I would like to personally thank every single person who reads and reviews this story. It truly means so much to me when my phone dings and I look down to see an email containing a review, no matter what it says. So I really and truly want to thank all of you for being so supportive of this story and leaving me such excellent feedback. I am so proud of the direction it is headed and how popular it is thus far. So THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART! I MEAN IT! As always, feel free to message me, add me on Facebook or any of the usual methods of internet communication as I do love answering questions and giving advice or whatever. Links for my facebook and email can be found on my profile page. I look forward to hearing from you! -QoM