Farris rolled off the edge of the lower bunk and landed on the floor flat on his back.

"Aww…dammit," he groaned rolling over onto his side. Standing up he stretched, cracked his back and peeked over onto the top bunk. It was empty.

"That's a relief," he muttered to no one in particular. The day he had found out that the infamous Richard B. Riddick was currently the new control operator on his ship had been so hectic that he had completely forgotten that the former operator had been his cabin-mate. It didn't hit him until he had walked back into his room and seen the unpacked bag sitting on the top bunk. His bunk.

He didn't sleep that night. Or the next. And for the next week when he actually did manage to fall asleep he had had nightmares of waking up and seeing his arms and legs severed and scattered around the room and Riddick sitting at the end of his bed smiling at him.

The past few nights had been a little better for him though. He had actually managed to exchange a few tentative words with his incognito roomie and had found that he wasn't that bad of a guy…a little on the sarcastic side…but not that bad.

Yeah, except for being a psychotic killer who – according to his rap sheet – has racked up a total of 32 life sentences, he thought. Sentences which he would probably kill everyone on this ship to avoid serving.

Letting Jack off the ship to raise hell in Veros had definitely put him on Davis's shit-list. Personally he couldn't give a shit less, but it meant that he had been receiving the hardest most tedious "housekeeping" jobs around the ship for the past two weeks. In between that, dealing with Jack being an un-holy bitch, and having the galaxy's most wanted felon sleeping four feet above him; Farris was so tense that he was sure if he shoved a piece of coal up his ass he'd have a diamond in two days tops. Shaking his head he decided to head to the galley for a late night snack and then maybe hit the gym and work out some tension.


Jack lay flat on her back on the gym floor with Riddick sitting hunched over her trying to figure out how to get her to the med bay without risking the rest of the crew noticing him carrying her lifeless body down the halls.

Fuck the crew, the beast roared, you will not let her die. We can have everyone else's blood on our hands…but not her. Not hers.

He prepared to pick her up gently and carry her to the med-bay; and he decided that if anyone tried to get in his way they would be dead before they hit the ground.

He did not notice her palms flattening out on the floor on either side of her body to give her extra leverage. So when her back bucked up of the floor he jerked his head back in surprise and Jacks knee connected solidly with the side of his face. He fell back onto his ass as she let the momentum of her attack flip her backwards. As soon as she was on her hands and knees she pushed herself up onto her feet and kicked him in his thigh as hard as she could.

He grunted but did not retaliate. He didn't even look at her. His eyes remained locked on the small puddle of her blood. She punched him in the face and his lip cut against his teeth, but he did not move. She yelled in frustration and grabbed her towel, heading for the door.

"You were dying," he said.

She stopped and turned towards him. "Wasn't that the point of slamming me into the fucking wall Riddick," she asked venomously.

"Well, wasn't it," she demanded as she pressed her towel to the side of her head to sop up the blood. She hated scalp wounds. Even if they were shallow; the scalp absolutely gushed blood.

"No," he answered as he stood up off the floor.

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline, "Oh no? That's funny because there's a two inch cut in my scalp that says otherwise."

"Not on purpose." He stepped closer to her and she backed away.

"Don't touch me," she said shaking her head, "I know you and I know that you don't make mistakes when you fight."

He seemed to consider this for a moment and then nodded. It hadn't been an accident. He knew exactly what he had been doing. That's what bothered him the most.

He wiped some blood from his lip and looked at it before looking back at her. "Gotta pretty good left hook."

"Yeah."

"C'mere , let me look at that cut," he said walking over to the bench and sitting down.

"Are you for real," she asked incredulously, "you just went all fucking psycho on me...and you expect me to come sit by you?"

"You asked for it," he replied calmly, "you've always like to fuck with that part of me Jack…and now you know what happens when you do."

"You're an asshole."

She started to turn back to the door when he spoke again, "I'm a killer, you know that…but I don't want you dead. Now sit your ass down."

They're eyes met for a long time. She searched his face for any sign that he was playing her, trying to bait her closer so he could do something. She couldn't find any.

Yeah right, she told herself, like you could ever tell what he's thinking. But if he wanted to hurt you again he already would've.

Finally she just shrugged, walked over and sat Indian style as his feet.

It reminded her of how years ago when he would be sitting on the couch watching the vidscreen, she would sit on the floor by him and lean against his legs. One time she had discreetly tied his shoe laces together and when he got up and tried to take a step he had gone tumbling face first onto the ground, snapping the laces as his legs jerked. She had watched in horror and fascination as his bulk hit the floor and shook the whole cabin. Imam had hollered at them to "stop acting like heathens" but she hadn't even heard him, her eyes were glued to her fallen hero. When he didn't move she began to get worried and crawled over to him; she got about a foot from his arm when it shot and grabbed her ankle in his vice like grip. She had screamed and wrenched her foot from his hand; and when he turned and looked at her with the Big Evil smile on his face she had taken off down the hallway screaming and laughing at the top of her lungs with him bounding after her. Sometimes she had sat there and he would reach down and take a lock of her hair and twirl it around his finger absently. Like he was petting her. Like he would pet a dog…

. a dog in heat…

"You quit breathing," he said as removed the towel.

"Yeah," she replied dryly, "I learned how to control that."

"And your heart?"

"Yup."

He tilted her head onto his knee, "Where'd you learn that?"

She shrugged, "You."

His hands stopped parting her hair for a second, "Me?"

She turned around to look at him, "Yeah. You started to show me before you –ah – had to go. I just continued the training by myself."

"Good."

She turned back around and he began his work again, "It's kinda dangerous for you not to remember all the things you taught me, you know?"

"Oh yeah," he asked reaching underneath the bench for the small first aid kit he'd seen there earlier.

"Yeah, Because I could use it against you someday."

He paused. "Why're you fightin' me so hard, Jack?"

"You called me a stupid bitch."

He nodded once behind her, "You were acting like one."

She tried to scoot away from him but he locked his legs around her, "Stay still."

"Let me go."

He pressed an alcohol pad to the gash on her head and she jumped, "Ahhh…what the hell is wrong with you? That burns!"

"Does it," he asked absently, "Hmmm."

"Yes. It does," she snapped pushing against his legs in a fruitless effort to get free, "and you done enough of that already." And not just physically.

"Like I said," he started, "you know you fuckin' asked for it."

"Do I," she interrupted.

"Yeah. You do. You also know that you've been pushing you luck with me since Sona and I suggest you cut that shit out because I'm not one of your little punk ass friends. I will put you in your place…"

"IN MY PLACE…"

"Yes. In. Your. Place. Don't fuck with me Jack."

She sat in silence for a long time before speaking.

"You said I was a dog in heat when I was younger."

"I didn't mean…"

"You also called me a whore."

He remained quiet. She turned around to face him only to see something akin to anger and something she couldn't put a name to.

Is that ...regret?

"I'm not his whore, Riddick," she whispered as she turned back around and slumped against his leg, "I'm not. I'm not anyone's whore…don't you ever fucking forget that. I'm not anything to him."

"Why do you fuck him then," he asked tightly.

"I don't," she laughed bitterly, "I just...lay there."

She fell into silence then and Riddick continued to clean her cut. After a while he noticed her shoulders shaking. He wasn't sure if she was laughing or crying but he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. He felt was unsure about this situation, hesitant... and that wasn't a feeling he was accustomed to and it made the beast uncomfortable as hell…which was also unusual. Godammit, this was ridiculous. He was deep in thought about how fucked up his situation was when she started talking again.

"I don't enjoy it you know," she said flatly, she felt so empty it scared her. "He likes it to hurt, I think. Sometimes he makes me tell him stuff, pretend that I like it…but I don't. I only do it to keep my position on this ship. It's a bitch tryin' to get onto a new crew."

She had no idea why she was telling him this, she knew she shouldn't be. But it felt like a dam had burst inside and all the things that had been running through her head flooded out of her mouth before she could stop it.

He was grateful to be sitting behind her. Where she couldn't see him. He wasn't sure how his face looked right then; but he was sure that if reflected how he felt inside…she would be scared. There was no word to describe that feeling. Lividness, rage, wrath, fury…they all fell pathetically short. Murderous was close, but it still didn't do this feeling justice. The thought of that man, that fuck, with his hands on her…on her skin…touching her…hurting her. He was going to enjoy killing him.

"You think I'm an idiot for leaving New Mecca, don't you," she asked him as she tried to stand. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down.

He had long finished cleaning her cut, but he didn't want to have to look at her right now. Not when he was this angry. Not when he had no idea of what to say to her.

"Jack..." he trailed off not exactly sure how to finish. He was acting like a goddamn teenage boy trying to ask a girl out for the first time and it pissed him off. How the fuck does she get in my skin like that?

"You always did shit like that," he said slowly as if he were picking his words carefully, " always doin' somethin' that could get you in trouble...drove me fuckin' nuts. But you ain't stupid. I'd call you crazy...but look who's talkin' right?"

"I just wanted to find you, Riddick. I didn't want any of this shit."

"I know it."

"Look," she sighed, leaning her head against the inside of his leg, "I'm tired of fighting with you okay. I've had a pretty fucked up week and I'm sure yours hasn't exactly been all shits and giggles either, so why don't we just call it a night. I could use some rest."

Having her face pressed up against the inside of his upper thigh was doing strange things to his body. Well, not strange, because he knew exactly what was happening. She shifted back again and her head back again and rubbed up against his crotch. He tried to scoot backwards but only succeeded in wacking his head against the wall behind him causing him to curse.

"You okay," she asked relaxing more against him.

"Uh, yeah," he replied awkwardly. Gotta tell her to move.

But when he looked down to talk to her he found that he had a perfect view down her loose shirt and his words died on his lips. Little beads of sweat had collected in the valley between her breasts; he had the insane urge to lean down and lick them away and he could feel himself stiffening even more. When she reached up to her chest and rubbed the skin right under her neck his breath hitched and he cursed himself for his lack of self control.

Her bra just barely covered her nipples which he knew just had to be rosy pink and he found himself having to clench his fists to keep from just reaching down and finding out for himself.

This is not the time, this is not the time, this is NOT the motherfucking time. But… damn, is she wearing my tank? Black…well used to be black, about four sizes too big for her…and is that a bullet hole? Yeah that's definitely my shirt.

For reasons beyond his understanding he found the thought of Jack wearing his clothes incredibly arousing and he could feel himself becoming painfully hard. He tried to close his legs a little to force her head forward but she chose that exact moment to lean her head back fully so she was peering up at him.

There's no fucking way she didn't feel that, he thought as he forced himself to look straight ahead avoid her gaze. After a minute had passed and he had accepted the fact that his body had pretty much gone on auto pilot and Jack still hadn't moved her head off of his lap he tilted his head down to look at her. She smirked at him and rubbed her head pointedly against his dick causing him to growl. That sneaky little bitch! She knows exactly what she's doing.

"Having fun Jack," he asked glaring at her, she only smirked wider. She had felt how he tensed up when she put her head on his thigh and had decided to have a little fun. When she had touched her chest and his breath hitched she knew that A) he was watching her and B) she was having the same affect on him as he had had on her for years. It was quite empowering and intoxicating. She had never been attracted to anyone as much as him, and the fact that she was sitting there with her head in between his legs aroused her to the point where she was willing to go out on a limb.

"I could ask you the same question," she replied sweetly, reaching her hands up behind her to run them up the insides of his thighs, "but I think I know the answer."

I can't believe I'm doing this, she giggled in her head…she was really quite giddy- I can't believe he's letting me do this.

"What d'ya think you're doin', kid," he questioned grabbing her hands in his.

She yanked her hands down, "I'm not a child anymore Riddick," she growled, "I haven't been a little kid for a long goddamn time. Why can't you get that through your head?"

"I know you're not a kid," he dragged his eyes up her legs and hips and came to rest on the mounds of soft flesh peeking up at him through her shirt, "that's pretty fuckin' obvious."

"Good."

"But Davis.,." He trailed off. He half expected her to relent to this; but instead she lifted herself up and turned so she was on her knees in front of him and ran her palm lightly over the head of his erection while she looked him dead in the eye, "Fuck Davis."

By now he was so hard that when she gripped him lightly he nearly came on the spot. He had never wanted a woman so bed in his life. Ever. And the fact that it was Jack, his Jack, kneeling there in front of him – WILLINGLY – looking like some kind of fallen angle with a blood spattered neck and a halo of unruly brown hair only made it better.

"You do not want to play games with me, Jackie," he whispered seductively in her ear as he stilled her hands, "you'll never win. Trust me."

She quirked an eyebrow. He was challenging her and she wasn't about to back down. The energy practically sizzled in the room and she fed off of it.

"S'that a challenge?" Her voice was thick with hunger and it made his blood boil.

"That's a fact."

He watched as her nipples hardened to the point that he could see them through her shirt. A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that this was wrong, that he was getting in over his head doing this. He told the voice to shut the fuck up. She was here willingly and after spending the better half of two weeks on this ship with her it was apparent that she wasn't 'kid' anymore. The way she moved, the way she talked, her curves, that scent...no...she was 100 percent woman if he had ever seen one. And he had seen lots. But none as perfect the one kneeling in front of him right then.

Jack was shivering with the sheer intensity of the moment. She really couldn't believe she was doing these things, acting this way…with him. No more than twenty minutes before they had been trying to kill each other and now she was kneeling in front of him, more turned on than she had been in her entire life.

He leaned forward so that he was directly in her face, looking straight in her eyes. His face was inches from hers and she could feel his breath fan over her face and chest. She could find nothing in his eyes. He was waiting for her to begin it; she was determined not to let him down.

Leaning in so that their lips barely touching she slowly pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and sucked it gently. His lips still had a hit of the apple he had eaten earlier and that combined with his natural heady flavor blew her mind. Soon she found herself greedily sucking and kissing his lips, occasionally nibbling when she felt like it. Riddick ,in the mean time was doing everything in his power to keep still and not throw her down onto the work out mat. She stopped and panted against his mouth for a second before pulling back to look at him as if to say 'your turn'.

This time there was definitely something in his eyes. Contacts or not she saw the desire written there plain and clear. She had only a moment to breathe before he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him in a scorching kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth danced with hers as he twisted his fingers into her hair . He licked slowly along the roof of her mouth and growled when she giggled and then moaned into his. Pulling her closer to him, he smoothed one hand down the side of her body and around the curve of her ass and squeezed.

She couldn't help the shudder that racked her and he smiled against her lips, "Like that?"

"Mmm," she replied. He leaned down to get on the floor with her, but was stopped by her hand on his chest. "Stay there…I've always wanted to do this…to you," she breathed, blushing slightly. He raised one eyebrow but said nothing. At this point Jack could've done anything she wanted to and it would've been fine with him. She pulled herself up off the floor, closed his legs with her hands and straddled his knees. She then scooted herself forward until she sat with her legs on either of his hips; he was beyond hard and when his dick brushed up against the apex of her thighs she felt a white hot bolt of pleasure shoot through her. Her eyes fluttered shut and she did it again. And again. And again until he grabbed her waist with both hands, forcing her to stop. "Don't."

He pointed his finger at her and she looked at him almost shyly becoming leaning forward and sucking that finger into her mouth as she twirled her tongue around it. All the air was slammed from his lungs as her groan of satisfaction vibrated up his arm. The image of his finger disappearing between those pouty kiss swollen lips was quite possibly the sexiest damn thing he'd ever seen. Lust so powerful swam through his body that his vision blurred a little and he had to lower his head and close his eyes for a moment. "Goddamn, Jack."

Part of him wanted nothing more than to press her face down into the floor and slam into her until she screamed and pleaded for release. He wanted to bite into the soft skin of her back and lick up the drops of blood that formed there; and when he had emptied his load once, he would flip her over onto her back and begin again. The beast wanted to see bruised, cut and bloody and covered in his sweat in cum. THEY would beat her, fuck her and force her into submission. THEY would know her soul. Then she would be theirs. The animal was so close to the surface that Riddick could feel his grip tightening on her waist.

No. Not like that. Not with her.

He forced those thoughts from his mind and distracted himself with devouring her neck. He kissed and bit and licked her along the neckline of her shirt and was rewarded by Jack thrusting her hips against him in response. The smell of her arousal was so strong to him he wasn't sure if he could stand it much longer. She was so damn uninhibited that it shamed him. Most of the women he had been with had been paid to lie underneath him and take it until he was finished. There was no passion in them, no hunger. But the way Jack was writhing around in his lap as if she were hooked up to a live wire had him thinking that if she could, she would devour him whole. And even if she couldn't …she would damn sure try.

He trailed his hands up her stomach and even though he tried he couldn't stop himself from caressing her breasts firmly as he tormented her taut nipples with his thumbs. He half way expected for her to recoil, maybe even get mad…but she pushed against him face twisted in agonized pleasure, "Oh god…Riddick."

The moment his name left her lips, all breathy and desperate like she was about to come right there, it was game over for him. He felt the familiar hum that always signaled the beast before it tore its way to the surface. But instead of starting in the back of his skull, the vibration started at the base of his dick and before it had even reached the head on his shoulders he had ripped off her shirt and pushed her onto her back on the mat ready to fuck her until she couldn't remember who she was when the door to the gym slid began to slide open.

Jack and Riddick flew apart as Farris strode in humming to himself. When he spotted them his mouth dropped. "Ho-ly shit."

"Farris," she shrieked, as she snatched her tattered shirt off the floor, "close the goddamn door."

His eyes never left them as he reached behind him and pressed the handpad. "Ho-ly SHIT!" He glanced between an irate Jack who was currently wrenching her hair back into a ponytail and Riddick who stood there silently, staring back at him.

"What the fuck are you doing here," she demanded angrily. She was beyond frustrated. She had been this close, THIS close to coming undone right there in Riddick's lap and Farris had fucked that up for her. Riddick was frustrated too, but more than that he was angry at himself for being so careless. He had gotten too caught up in her. The way she felt and tasted; had someone else walked into the room they could both be in serious shit.

"What am I doing," he asked incredulously, "what are you doing? And what happened to your face? Are you okay?Forget that...are you fuckin' nuts? Anyone coulda walked in here Jack…and I mean…well… SHIT."

She pointed at him threateningly and put on her best 'I-will-beat-you-to-within-an-inch-of-your-life-if-you-fuck-up face. "Keep your mouth shut Farris…"

"Oh yeah," he snapped back waving his hands in the air for dramatics, "because I'm really let it slip that I walked in on you and Riddick getting – oh shit." He clapped his hands over his mouth.

Riddick slowly turned to look at her and she shrunk down a little, smiling guiltily, "Oops."

Riddick sighed, shook his head, whipped his shiv out from behind his back and advanced on Farris who backed up rapidly looking terrified.

"Wait," she yelled jumping in between them and holding up her hands defensively, "he's not a threat, Riddick."

He effortlessly swept her aside, "Not taking that chance." She hung onto his arm and swung herself back in front of him, "He's my friend."

He continued walking.

"Riddick STOP! He can help us!" She didn't know why she said it, or what they even needed help with…she just didn't want Farris to end up with a shiv in the gut.

Riddick stopped and looked down at Jack who had her hands planted on his chest, "You trust this guy?"

"Yes. I do." She held no hesitation in her eyes or voice and for Riddick that was good enough…for now.

But still…

He nodded and pushed past her again, holding up his hand to silence her protests. When he was a foot away from the man who was now shrinking down the door he stopped.

"You know what sodium hydroxide; drain cleaner – like the kind they keep in the maintenance locker – does when it's swallowed, Farris," he asked conversationally, "pretty nasty shit. It burns up your throat, your lungs. Then you start to puke up piece of your stomach. The eyes burn up from the inside out. Blood vessels bust all up…you bleed out. Die slowly. And you can't even scream for help because by then your vocal cords have been melted."

Now it was Jacks turn to be happy that Riddick couldn't see her. She wasn't angry or frightened…she was kinda turned on. Seeing Riddick in full on intimidating-bad-ass mode made her hot. She felt a rush of wetness when Riddick turned around and gave her a knowing smirk over his shoulder before returning to Farris.

"We clear?"

"Perfectly," Farris gulped, eyes never leaving the shiv held in front of him.

Suddenly the intercom on the wall crackled to life and Riley's voice called out of it, "Hey Jack, wherever you are; Davis said to get your happy ass down to engine room and fix whatever's muckin' up the thrusters. Now."

She walked over to the intercom and pressed the send button, "Got it."

Sighing she turned around to face the two men who were now staring at her. Farris smirking, Riddick frowning. "Gotta run," she said to Riddick as he approached her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "We need to talk. Later." She nodded and suppressed the shiver that rushed up her spine as his breath fanned against her neck and down her tied together shirt.

She brushed past Farris who whispered, "I want to hear everything." She ducked her head and snorted in laughter, "You know he can hear you right?" And then sprinted off down the hallway intent on taking a shower before getting back to work.

Farris turned back to gym and was met with an amused – but deadly serious looking – Riddick. " I'm sure you'll get all the details," he said as he pulled on his shirt and began walking towards the door. Farris stepped aside but then changed his mind and grabbed his arm as he passed. Riddick stopped, looked at Farris's hand and then back at his now grim face.

"That girls been through hell and back," he said seriously, "she worked damn hard to get her head right…don't you fuck that up and hurt her."

Riddick jerked his arm out of the mans grip and continued to walk, "I'd be worried about myself if I were you."

"She's my friend," Farris snapped back angrily, "I care about her and I don't give a shit who you are, I'm going to look out for her. What is she to you anyways?"

Riddick stopped and seemed to consider this for a moment before turning back to Farris with a mysterious look on his face. "She's mine."

It was that simple, he realized. All those years she'd always been his, he was just too damn stubborn to accept it. Sure, he'd grudgingly admitted a long time ago that he had a soft-spot for the kid; but possession wasn't a term that he'd considered appropriate for a relationship between a fourteen year old girl and man in his mid-twenties. Now he realized that's exactly what it had been. He just needed to give her time to grow up. And damn had she grown.

Maybe I won't take her back to New Mecca right away, he thought as he entered his cabin and hauled himself up onto the top bunk that he'd stolen from Farris, maybe I'll keep her around for a while. Been a while since I traveled with someone. If she wants.

He concentrated on inhaling and exhaling until finally he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.


On the lower level of the ship, the small stuffy room directly next to the holding room where captured cons and smugglers were detained served as Davis's personal office. That "night" he had awoke to find his bed empty – it didn't bother him in the least. In fact it was a good thing; he had some business to do.

He, Gerod and Riley sat cramped around his beat up metal desk taking shots of whiskey and talking about the particulars of their next run.

"Got a readin' of vessels in our general area a couple hours ago," Davis said propping his feet up on the desk, "only turned up four. And two of 'em are shitty little skiffs probably out for a short run, so they're not even worth it."

"There ain't shit in this sector," Riley replied as he pulled his dreds back into a ponytail, "we're in the middle of fuckin' nowhere."

"Quit bitchin'," Davis snapped taking a swig, "we still got better than three weeks to secure more merchandise before we hit Trelios. That's not why I dragged your asses down here anyways. Couple'a days ago I get this transmission from Jagrian. He's Counsel contracted too, but his crew does runs for the Semorian family on the side…"

"Semorian," Gerod interrupted, "isn't that the ring that runs the slave trade in the Zef sector?"

"Yeah," Riley laughed, "they run for the young ones too. Boys, I think."

"Who gives a shit what they run for," Davis cut in impatiently, " the point is this: Jagrian sends me this message on my com – my personal com – and starts in on this shit about how he thinks that the Counsel is starting to suspect that some of its contracted crews are runnin' for smugglers and slave traders under the table…"

"Who? Us? Naww…," Riley interrupted again, joking.

Davis slammed his shot glass down onto the desk, "You think this shit is a joke," he demanded, "Jag say that the Counsel has started check every single fucking station that contracted ships have registered docking at for copies of the cargo and passenger manifest. They've started to audit financial logs…do you fucking get it? He told me that last week his cousin Samiel and the rest of his crew got sentenced to life on Ursa Luna for kidnapping, theft, murder…you name it, without any fucking trial! They just threw their asses in the slam to rot."

Gerod like out a low whistle, "Ho-ly shit. What're we going to do?"

Davis took a long swallow before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, "Dunno, but I do that the Counsel is gonna be lookin' to throw someone in the can…and I can tell you one thing: when the shit hits the fan, I ain't gonna be nowhere near it."

"Who's gonna be," Riley asked nervously. He had known Davis for fifteen years and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was the kind of man who would slit his own mother's throat to keep out of slam.

Davis smirked at them and pointed a finger up towards the level above them, "Who do you think?"


Thanks to those who've been R&R'ing! Comments and suggestions are always welcome (and pretty useful too)...let me know how you like this chapter ok!

-A.P.