A/N: I'm loving all the feedback and support I'm getting on this one. Thank you so much to all of you. Like I said before, I have big plans for this story, and I hope you will all stick around to find out what they are. I'm extremely excited to write more of this.
Note-I'm not at all familiar with many details of pregnancy. Never been pregnant, never had a pregnant friend, and all my adult relatives had kids when I was still pretty much a kid myself. My mother isn't much help in remembering how things were eighteen years ago either, haha. So, I'm left with research, and I hope I'm doing it well enough. To avoid getting things really wrong, though, I am probably going to avoid most of the details about the technical stuff as I go along. If anyone would like to give me advice, or share personal insight as the story goes on, I would LOVE to have your help.
Chapter 4
May 29th, 2011
"Alright, so there's really no need for me to see you again for at least another month," Dr. Tabatha Lee informed them, smiling widely at them and showing two perfect rows of white teeth. Her glasses sat neatly on her nose, perched so that she could peer over the top of them, which she did as she reached forward to shake both of their hands. "Congratulations again," she added.
Brennan thanked her, tucking her prescriptions for the vitamins she would need into her purse and standing up. The paper from the exam chair crinkled as the furniture returned to its original shape behind her.
Booth stood idly, hands in his pockets once they were back in the main office, as Brennan spoke with the receptionist and set up a date for her next appointment. July 2nd, he heard her say, and he made a mental note to write that down on his own calendar just in case she tried to get away with going alone. He wanted to make sure she was aware of just how much he wanted to be involved. And if she kept him in the dark about the dates for the appointments... it would be a bad start.
"Well, that was easy," he commented casually as they entered the elevator. He wanted to say something more, but a nurse caught the doors before they shut, smiling apologetically and hitting the button for her floor before moving to stand in the far corner. They stood in silence as they lowered. And when the nurse departed, two more people entered, and his chance was gone yet again.
He wasn't even sure what he would say to her, but he knew he had to say something, before they got out of here. Back out there, they were solving a murder. But in here... the focus was undeniably upon her pregnancy. There was no way she could avoid him if he brought it up.
Heading back to the car, she walked ahead of him for the first time that morning, her jaw set sharply and her eyes firmly on her destination.
"Bones," he said, and she stopped short, turning to meet his eyes with widened blue ones. He came level with her, and halted as well so he could face her. "You know I want to do this with you, right? Every step of the way."
She opened her mouth, and then closed it again, darting her eyes away before she nodded. "I know, Booth."
He allowed himself a small smile. "Alright, good. Just... know that I'm not going anywhere."
Something surprised him in the way her eyes suddenly shifted, but he couldn't put his finger on just what it was that he saw change in her expression. A moment later, whatever it was had gone, and she was just nodding again.
"How about we get lunch at the Diner before returning to the lab?" she suggested, slowly starting to walk again, so he could keep right by her side. He was glad that she wasn't pulling away again, but still unsure of why she would want to, to begin with. What was going on in that pretty head of hers, that would make her seem so eager to cling to him one second, and then run the next?
It was easy to believe she hated him for what was happening, but he was starting to see flaws in that reasoning. There was something else going on, that he couldn't grasp just yet. And he didn't dare ask, because something told him it would only make things worse between them.
They climbed into the vehicle together, and Booth set a course for their favorite eatery, trying to keep the conversation light with discussion about how Angela was doing, and how he had gone to a baseball game with Parker a few nights ago. She seemed relieved at this, and eagerly joined in, offering remarks and questions. By the time they arrived at the Diner, they were engaged in a debate over whether or not baseball was a more challenging sport than football. Brennan was supplying statistics to support the theory that football was more dangerous but baseball required more focused skills, while Booth was firmly sticking to the football end of the argument.
Once inside, though, it died down and Booth found himself staring over his menu at her, watching the way her brow furrowed as she scanned the options for lunch even though she was probably just going to get her usual, like always.
He wished he could just tell her how pretty she was, like he'd been dying to do for years now. There had only ever been a few occasions when he had gotten the opportunity to say it, and they had all involved her dressing up for some event or for an undercover mission. He had never gotten the chance to say it just because, with no special occasion attached.
She wouldn't react well if he said it now, though, and he knew it. If she hated him, or at the very least regretted everything that had happened between them recently... then she didn't need to hear how he felt about her. He'd already been down that road once before, and it hadn't ended well. In fact, every time he bore his heart with any woman, it didn't end well. This time, he wasn't going to go with his gut; he was going to go with his brain. And his brain was telling him to hold off for as long as was necessary. Maybe someday he'd be able to tell her how he felt, when he was sure it wouldn't upset her.
He didn't deserve her anymore, though, anyways. She would have every right to turn him down, what with how he had treated her, and what she was going through now because of him.
So, he wasn't going to put himself out there to face the inevitable rejection. Especially with how much she needed someone with her right now. She didn't want a relationship. She wanted the partner he was supposed to be for her. She wanted a friend and shoulder to lean on. That was why she had invited him to the doctor's appointment; because she trusted him and wanted him with her. Not because he had given her any reason to return the feelings he still possessed for her.
She glanced up from her menu, and caught him staring. But her gaze dropped immediately, before he had to avert his. A blush rose in her cheeks, and he almost commented. His mouth opened, but then he shut it again and returned his attention to his own menu. He was getting the BLT burger, but still, he scanned the other options as if he was actually interested. Anything to keep his gaze occupied while he waited for the waitress to return—but still, he found his gaze straying up to take her in every now and then.
After his gaze caught hers more than once, he wondered if she wasn't doing the same thing.
"What can I get you two? The usual?" their cheerful waitress questioned, glancing between them and smiling widely, her pen ready on the pad of paper she clutched in one hand.
He glanced across at Brennan and gave a nod. "Yes, please," she answered the woman's question, folding her menu.
"You're going to have to start eating more than just a salad soon," he pointed out after she had collected the menus and moved on to another table, smiling teasingly.
She twisted her lip between her teeth, and just gave a sharp nod, her gaze swiftly settling on the street outside their window. He sighed softly to himself, fiddling with the edge of his napkin and resigning himself to the fact that the subject was, again, off limits.
"Sorry," she said at last, and he frowned, glancing up in surprise... and confusion.
"For what?"
She took a heavy breath, her eyes staying far away on the world outside for a moment before she swung it over to meet his. Her eyes were steely blue, but they shimmered with emotion.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted softly. "I... want you to be involved. Of course I want you to be involved. I just..."
"Hey, hey," he assured quickly, reaching across to rest a hand on top of hers. She glanced down at the contact, not looking up until he spoke again. "I understand, Bones. I do, really. This is... still a lot to process, and of course you have every right to do things as you see fit. Don't do anything just for my benefit, okay?"
"But you—"
"I'm here when you need me," he said at once, dipping his head so he was looking coaxingly upwards at her. "Do you understand?"
"I... yes. Thank you."
He nodded, satisfied, and pulled back, letting his hand slide off of hers and across the table until it rested on the edge of his napkin once again.
They didn't speak much until the food finally arrived, and then they focused mainly on what was in front of them, using it as a distraction from each other. For a long while, Booth was certain she didn't plan to interact with him at all until they were back on the case. But then she reached across and hesitantly took a fry from his plate. He glanced up in surprise, and then grinned as he watched her pop it into her mouth. Her eyes were locked on his, and she offered a smile in return before reaching across and snatching another.
He laughed. "Hey, hey, don't take them all, Bones."
"I won't," she promised innocently, hesitating for only a moment before she took another, this time dipping it into his own ketchup.
"One of these days, you're going to have to get fries with your salad."
"Actually," she said, reaching across only to have him pull the dish away, "I find I prefer this situation." Swiftly, she caught another between her slender fingers before he could slide the dish in another direction. "Although I may need my own ketchup," she commented, noting how he had pulled the dish away again.
"Nice, Bones. Real nice."
She shrugged, grinning mischievously and finally turning her attention back to her own plate.
"You know, you don't see me stealing your food."
"That's because you don't like my food."
He scowled, but couldn't argue with that. She smirked.
"So, who do you like for this murder?" he asked, guarding his plate possessively as he picked up his burger to take a large bite.
"I don't like to make assumptions without the evidence," she reminded him. "But... I agree with the neighbor's assessment, that one of his dalliances might have had it in for him."
Booth nodded. "My thoughts exactly. And the girl down the end freaked me out a little, too."
"How so?"
He launched into an explanation of Selena's behavior, and by the time he was wrapping up the story she was nodding slowly in agreement.
"Her behavior does seem odd," she acknowledged. "Are we going to go back and re-question her?"
"Later. I want to get some more info before I return to any of the neighbors... I need something I can use on them, to see if I can tangle any of them up. For now, they've got all the right answers. But in a building like that... someone always sees something they don't think is important. Or they know how important it is, and they don't bother to report it. It's what happens when you live in the city; you run the risk of getting in trouble and just having no one care enough to do anything about it."
Brennan nodded. "There was a case in New York that I read an article about, quite some time ago. A woman, raped and murdered in the middle of the day. Dozens of witnesses—all of them assumed someone else would call 911, and no one did."
"Sick world," Booth murmured, sighing and shuffling his fries around in his dish.
"It really is," Brennan responded softly. He watched as her hand shifted from the edge of the table to land across her abdomen. It was subconscious and he knew it, but he felt his gut twist. She had asked him, years ago, if he had any regrets about Parker, knowing what he did about how dangerous the world was. Now, he wondered if she felt like that again. Like she was bringing their child into a cruel and unpredictable world.
Yet another reason for her to hate what had happened between them.
They finished their meals at relatively the same time, and the waitress came by with the check. Booth suspected Brennan didn't want him paying because it would assume something about their relationship, and so he relented and allowed her to handle things the way she wanted to. Which meant splitting the bill fifty-fifty.
The ride to the lab, much like the ride to the Diner itself, was quiet. He drove, every now and then glancing over to check on her. She was deep in thought, that familiar crease between her eyebrows as she stared out her window. A strand of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail billowed across her face uncontrollably in the air that gushed through the open windows.
As Booth put the vehicle into park in the garage under the Jeffersonian, Brennan brought the case back up, and they discussed her preliminary findings together as they made their way to the elevator and then through the doors and up onto the platform.
The body wasn't present, but the victim's clothing was, and it was spread out evenly on one of the lit examination tables. Brennan cut across to her office, returning quickly with her lab coat and a fresh pair of gloves, her hair in the process of being wrapped in a fresh ponytail.
"Cam is working with the remaining flesh and organs?" she questioned as she stepped up to join Wendell and Hodgins.
The intern was the first to respond. "Yes. She found something that might interest you..." he used a pair of tweezers to pick up what appeared to be a soggy piece of paper from the table. He gave her a raised-eyebrow look and set it down again.
"What is it?" she asked, bending closer.
Booth had the same question, and he leant over it as well, frowning.
"A note, maybe. From the amount of material, probably not on a full sheet of paper... more like something from a small pad. Normally, we'd leave it up to Angela..."
"But," Hodgins picked up for him, "Under the circumstances, we're on our own."
"How is she?" Brennan asked at once.
"Perfect," Hodgins replied eagerly, beaming. "And the baby... well, the baby is keeping us up at all hours, but he's perfect, too."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Should you be at home with them?" she queried with concern.
"I would be, but she insisted that one of us spend some time at the lab. I'm not here for the full day, don't worry. We just... don't want to leave you guys short-handed. We remember what happened the last time the team split up."
Booth cleared his throat, and the bug man raised his gaze.
"Right," he said with a nod. "The note. I called Angie, and she told me she could talk you guys through it via webcam. After what happened when we tried to work her equipment last time... she told me that she wanted Brennan to be in charge of it. Apparently, you're the only one she trusts with the Angelatron, Dr. B.," he intoned, his gaze switching from Booth over to the anthropologist.
"Did you damage it last time?" she questioned, frowning.
"Not me," he said, raising his hands up in front of him and then motioning at Wendell.
"Hey, hey, it wasn't all me," the intern argued.
"Right, it was partially Cam," Hodgins agreed with a wave of his hand. "But the fact remains that you nearly wiped her system, and you probably saw some things you shouldn't have."
At that last comment, Wendell swallowed and looked away.
"I'll be happy to look into it," Brennan agreed, cutting into the discussion and dragging it back to the ground it had started on. "When will Cam be ready to let us look at the body?"
"I already collected my samples; right now she's finishing up with hers... getting the stomach contents, the toxicology... all of that coroner stuff. She'll hand it over soon, she said."
Brennan nodded, turning her attention fully to the crumpled note.
"Where did you find that?" Booth questioned.
"In the pants' pocket," Hodgins answered, nodding towards the nearly unrecognizable pair of pants lying on the table. "Turns out our vic fell on them, and then proceeded to decompose into them."
"That explains the damage," Brennan murmured, frowning as she picked up a set of tools from the nearest tray and began to cautiously pry apart one of the folds.
"You think you'll be able to reconstruct it?" Booth asked, leaning over her shoulder.
She cast him a glance that told him to step back and stop hovering so close, and then answered, "Hopefully. Angela is very capable; with her instruction, I should be able to gain a fairly good idea of what the note looked like originally."
"Actually, Angela said it would be good if Booth could work on it as well. She said she'd like if two people were involved. Something about not wanting to re-explain things, and not trusting anyone else..." Hodgins waved off the rest of what he'd been saying, and shrugged, "Whatever her reasons... you both should be in on it."
"My priority should be on the body," Brennan pointed out, straightening up. "When that is ready... I'll need to give it all my attention."
"Wendell's capable of doing that," Jack pointed out. At Brennan's raised eyebrow, he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Her words, again, not mine."
Sighing to herself, Brennan bit her lip and glanced towards Cam's office.
"Alright, Mr. Bray, I want regular reports. And let me know the moment you begin to examine the skeleton."
"Of course, Dr. Brennan."
She transferred the note to an empty tray, and stepped away from the table, motioning with a nod of her head for Booth to follow her in the direction of Angela's office. He had to agree, it made the most sense to work in there.
He also suspected that Angela had more in mind than the job when she 'insisted' he work with Brennan on this. Angela knew he could be running down other leads; she was trying to keep him around Brennan.
He found himself wondering, suddenly, if Angela knew about the pregnancy. Brennan had been very insistent on keeping things quiet, but she had never said specifically whether or not anyone else knew. And he was aware that she had slipped away to visit her best friend alone at the hospital. He wouldn't hold it against her for a moment if she had gone to Angela before him. After all, she was scared and freaked out—Angela was the natural selection when it came to who she would want to discuss it with first. He wasn't even slightly objective in the matter, whereas Angela could provide valuable insight and advice.
Brennan started up the Angelatron, and the screen hummed to life, lighting up and asking for a password. She provided it without hesitation, which didn't surprise him at all, and then proceeded to load up the proper software.
Clearly she had been paying attention to her friend's work all these years. She knew far more about how to run this stuff than he did.
Only a moment later, though, she stopped short, blinking at the screen and then nodding to herself with one quick jerk before she pulled up another screen beside the first. A moment later, a loading circle appeared and rounded about itself continuously in the middle of the new page.
"Hey," Angela said the minute she appeared on the screen. She looked flushed and exhausted, but she was smiling warmly, and seemed more than thrilled to see them. Being away from work was clearly a blessing and a curse for her. She needed the time away, for certain, but the isolation was probably getting to her.
"Hi, Ange," Brennan answered, grinning. Her eyes were lit up now, and the next words out her mouth were, "How's the baby?"
He glanced at her in mild surprise, but then quickly masked his expressions and tried to focus on the conversation. He didn't need to start misinterpreting her feelings about Angela's baby, and applying them to her own pregnancy. Her excitement for her friend might have nothing to do with her feelings about their future child.
There was every possibility she still hated him for the situation, and wished it had never happened. In fact, all the evidence besides this seemed to point right to that answer. And he had been trained to always believe the simplest answer was the one that was most likely correct.
"He'd doing really well. He's hungry all the time, and those lessons in diaper changing don't even put a dent in the real thing... but it's great. It's really, really great. Although, I'm dying for a full-night's sleep," she added ruefully, laughing to herself.
Brennan's tongue ran over her lips, and she nodded quickly, her mouth opening but then shutting quickly once more. She swallowed heavily. "If you need any help, I'll be glad to come over. Whenever you need me."
"Thank you," Angela said with a heavy sigh. "I'm not sure when, but I'm thinking I'll probably take you up on that at some point. Besides, he needs to spend time with his godmother. And his godfather," she added, raising an eyebrow and turning to acknowledge Booth for the first time.
"Sure," Booth agreed with a grin. "I'm a pro; I got a lot of practice with Parker."
"Excellent," Angela said, a sparkle in her eyes. "After a few more weeks of this... I'll need some cooperative babysitters. And you two are at the top of my list."
"Glad to help," Booth said, shifting uncomfortably. He got the distinct impression that Angela was still in the dark about the pregnancy, but that she was aware of at least something that had changed. She was a great judge of people; it wasn't surprising that she'd have picked up on a difference in their relationship. Especially if Brennan had told her that they'd slept together, and that was far more likely than her having told her friend about the baby.
"Alright, so, I hear you've got something from this new case that could use my expertise?"
"Hold on, I'll beam it to you," Brennan said, moving away and shifting the tray so it was under the special camera lens. She adjusted the neck on the device and fitted the zoom properly. The image appeared in the bottom corner of the Angelatron, and Booth knew it was probably filling half the screen on Angela's computer back at her house.
"Alright, so you've got a damaged piece of paper... any signs of ink?"
"Some traces here..." Brennan murmured, adjusting the camera and prying apart another section of the folds with her tweezers.
"Okay, so it's definitely got writing on it. The first thing you're going to want to do is get the rest of it unfolded. Bren, why don't you do that. Booth," she returned her attention to him once more, "I think it would be best if you set up the program. I assume Brennan's already got it open and ready to run?"
"I... yeah, I think so," he said, moving to pick up the tablet that controlled the complex machinery, but not without glancing over his shoulder to find that Brennan had already fully immersed herself in the task her friend had given her.
"Alright, I'm going to give you some basic data to put into the program. Do you think you can handle that?"
"Parker taught me how to use his school's website. I think I can handle anything after that."
She smirked. "Alright. First, I want you to open the tab labeled 'Tools'..."
~BxBxBxBxBxB~
It was over an hour later when Wendell poked his head into the office and interrupted their process. Both Booth and Brennan were hunched over the small tray, rearranging the camera, when he cleared his throat in the doorway.
They both jumped as one, and turned to him with raised eyebrows.
"I've discovered cause of death, Dr. Brennan," he informed her.
He had come in earlier in the hour, to inform them that he now had access to the body, but they had barely listened to him. Angela had been explaining how to lock the image into the program for analysis at that time, and they had both been absorbed in the task. She hadn't even been bothered about being left out of the examination of the body.
This, though, had her full interest.
She stepped away from the note and snapped off her gloves. "I'll be right out," she assured him, glancing at the empty chair on the web-chat that showed where Angela had been. The baby had started crying not long ago, and Angela had left them to their own devices.
She hesitated, her eyes straying over the progress they had made. The lines were adjusting and focusing with their minor fixes to the camera, and a silent scan was running across in the bottom corner, trying to identify commonalities as they worked.
The ink had run, and the lines were barely recognizable, having moved and dulled after the contact with the bodily fluids and decay juice, but she was sure, now, that they would be able to pull the original message from the mess that they were left with.
As she was standing there, surveying what they had done and considering to herself what they still had left to do, a cell phone went off. Her hand went to her pocket on instinct, but it was Booth's cell, not hers.
"Yeah," he said, pressing it to his ear. He nodded to himself, turning away. "Right. Okay... thanks." He snapped it shut again, and turned to her.
"I know we don't have a positive ID yet, but Kaminski's sister is at the Hoover waiting to be interviewed." He paused, a question in his expression.
"I should probably check in on Wendell's work, and then finish up with the note," Brennan suggested carefully. He nodded in understanding.
"Alright. I'll... see you later."
"Yes. See you later. Keep me in the loop with the interview?"
"Of course. Keep me updated on the evidence?"
She smiled, "You know I will."
"Yeah, I know. Good luck."
"Same to you."
He stood in her doorway for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but then he just nodded and let the door shut behind him.
She stood for a long moment, alone in the office, just staring at the door.
"Sweetie?" Angela's voice said from behind her, startling her back into reality.
"Sorry," she said, turning to face her friend. "I was just... thinking."
"...Right," Ange responded, a crease in her brow that said she didn't quite believe that. "Are you ready to get back to work on the note? Where did Booth go?"
"He got a lead on the investigation. And I need to go check on the body; Wendell's found something. But... I think I've got the hang of this. Thanks for your help. We... we miss you around here, you know."
"It hasn't been that long," Angela reminded her teasingly. "And I'll be back before you know it... Hodgins is already talking about staying home half the time so I'm not trapped in the house by myself. But... I can't really imagine leaving Michael. I just... can't be without him. I don't know how I'm ever going to get back to working normal hours," she added with an amazed shake of her head.
"Everything changes, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Angela responded, her eyes narrowing. "Yeah, it does."
She was putting two and two together, and Brennan swallowed. "Alright, I should get going. It was great, getting to see you again. I'll drop by sometime soon and visit. Promise."
"If you don't, I'll call," Angela assured. "I might not be able to go anywhere without him yet, but I could use someone to talk to around here. Someone to keep me from getting addicted to some mind-numbing soap opera. God, save me."
Brennan laughed. "In that case, I'll come by every day if you like."
"You're a great friend, sweetie," Angela answered after a pause, her tone suddenly serious. "...You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"Of course," Brennan answered too quickly. "I... need to go, though."
"See you soon," Angela murmured, her eyes still narrowed. She cut off the feed, and Brennan was left staring at the black screen. Running her tongue over her lips, she bit into the pink flesh as her thoughts raced.
She still couldn't tell Angela. Not yet. Soon, though, she promised herself. She would tell her soon. Before she figured it out for herself... although her friend was probably already on that thought track by now.
Sighing to herself, she turned and headed back out onto the platform, where Wendell, Cam, and Hodgins were waiting for her. She had been expecting Wendell, but not the other two.
"What do you have for me?" she asked as she pulled on a clean pair of gloves.
Wendell waited until she was close enough, and then pointed out what he had found.
His gloved finger hovered over the bones as he traced the air and indicated each of the wounds he had located. Three deep cuts into the ribs; obvious evidence of a stabbing.
"This was the fatal blow," he said, indicating a blow that would have gone the closest to the heart. "It would have severed an artery."
"And the other wounds?"
"They were inflicted first; clear evidence that blood was still flowing. Here... and here."
She nodded at each of his identifications.
"Excellent work," she praised, and he beamed. "Is there anything else?"
"Defensive wounds that you noted in your original analysis," he added, pointing out each injury in turn. "Nothing much to suggest he fought back very hard. A blow to the back of the head," he turned the skull to show the cracking, "Suggests he was knocked to the ground. The striations on the bone, and the force that would have been required, also suggest that the stabbing injuries were inflicted while the victim was lying face-up on the floor.
She nodded thoughtfully, and turned expectantly to Cam, who had clearly been awaiting her turn to contribute.
"We've got an ID," she said, tapping a file in her palm. She gestured to it, "Dentals match Nathan Kaminski."
"Booth needs—"
"I already called him," Cam assured her.
"Oh," she said, her eyebrows shooting upwards. "Oh. That's... that's good. Was he... at the Hoover yet?"
"Just pulling in. He was grateful; it will simplify his interview with the sister."
"I'm sure it will," she said, keeping her tone level to hide her disappointment. She had wanted to be the one to call and inform him once the ID went through, and now she felt strangely upset that it had been taken away from her. It was completely irrational, but that didn't seem to be of much consequence as far as her emotions went.
She closed her eyes for a second, grounding herself, and then focused her attention on Hodgins.
"I'm still working on the cat excrement," he informed her. "The laxative started working a little while ago. The ants, on the other hand, told me there was no trace of poison."
"Which toxicology confirms," Cam added. "Not that it matters, what with the fact that he was stabbed to death."
"Alright," she said, glancing back towards the office and suddenly craving solitude. "I should... get back to work on the note. It might provide more information about motive or suspects."
Her team members nodded in agreement, but she could tell they were watching her with concern when she turned her back and walked quickly away. They all looked away when she glanced back as she shut the office door behind her, and she felt her face flush before she moved out of view of the windows and settled herself back into the sanctuary of one of Angela's comfortable chairs with the tablet controls in her lap and the software running on the computer in front of her.
Once she had something definitive on this, she could call it in to Booth.
I hope to keep my chapters pretty much this length as the story goes on. I love writing long chapters, as my other stories show. Like I said before, though, I'm not ahead on this one. I've barely started Chapter 5, which stresses me out. I'm graduating tomorrow night, however, so that should give me more time to work on this.
Share your thoughts with me; they urge me onwards and often give me new ideas for directions I want to take the story in.
