When Fan and Excrement Collide

A/N: Yay! I finally got around to writing the next chapter, with much help from BillAtWork/Virgil, who is actually responsible, not only for making this 1,000 times better than was originally, but for the title also! Muchas gracias, Bill!

Oh, and just FYI, this chapter is a much more action orientated than the previous… And contains 72% more profanities... FACT.

Chuck finally felt like he had a sense of purpose for the first time in two years. Sure, he was the intersect, the most important piece of government intelligence in the whole United States, but that was something that was thrust upon him and something that he had never really gotten used to. Even with his download of the good for nothing intersect 2.0 at a time when he was just about ready to give up on life, the spy world was still something he felt an outsider to, as though he was on one side of a glass barrier, only millimetres thick, with the likes of Casey and Cole on the other… So why did it feel like light years?

But helping Sarah, through the confusion and pain Morocco brought with it, that was something he was comfortable with. In fact, it was something Chuck felt he needed to do, if not for Sarah, then for himself.

Chuck mulled last night's meeting over in his head whilst pulling the Nerd Herder off the Interstate just before Sarah's apartment. It's not that he hadn't had a great time; it was probably the most alive he had felt in a long while, but some of the things Sarah did…

'No…' Chuck corrected mentally as he turned the Herder right at the intersection, 'what she was going to do...'

Simply put, it wasn't her. At least, not the Sarah Walker that had left two years ago – she definitely would never have done something so bold, so compromising. But maybe that was a good thing? After all, wasn't that what he had wanted since the first time he laid eyes on her?

Chuck banged his forehead on the steering wheel in frustration, setting off the horn in one long, screeching burst. When had things gotten so complicated?

'The second I opened that bloody e-mail from Bryce fucking Larkin.' Chuck spat, instantly berating himself for the manner in which he had addressed the dead.

Chuck sighed. He'd said to Sarah that tomorrow was a new dawn, a new day – one of his favourite lyrics from the legendary Nina Simone - and he was going to treat it as such.

'A new start', Chuck whispered to himself. And this one came bearing coffee and chocolate croissants.

Making the final turning onto Sarah's street, the low 0900 o'clock sun dazzling his eyes, Chuck blinked through the haze, his eyes pulled towards the unmistakable form of Sarah's black Porsche 911.

The Porsche, that just so happened to have three thuggish skin heads clad in identical black t-shirts and trousers scattered conspicuously around it. One, Chuck glimpsed as the one of the figures turned, his back now towards Chuck, judging from the odd bulge at the small of his back, was obviously packing.

'Shit', Chuck thought, panic spreading through his body as his knuckles whitened upon the steering wheel. He had been in and around this business too long to know that three men, looking like they did, surrounding the car of super spy Sarah Walker, was definitely more than a coincidence.

"Shit." Chuck repeated into the silence of the Herder. "Shit, shit, SHIT."

Keeping the herder cruising at around 30 mph to avoid suspicion, Chuck casually turned left around corner immediately after the Maison23 complex, slamming on the brakes as if a toddler had made a bid for freedom into the road immediately after the manoeuvre was complete.

Shutting off the engine, and pulling his keys swiftly from the ignition, Chuck attempted to stay calm. If there were three outside, how many were inside? Were there even any inside?

Chuck quashed that thought immediately. Of course there were going to be more inside. Three men like that didn't just stand around a car; no matter how nice it was, just because they felt like it. No.

'Those must be sentries…', Chuck surmised, hoping that the basics regarding surveillance, interrogation and self-defence that Casey had almost forcefully pummelled into him, proved themselves helpful.

"The key is to know your enemy", Chuck could almost hear Casey lecturing.

"If you don't know their motivations, their strengths, their weaknesses, what makes them tick", Chuck's inner Casey continued, providing a surprisingly soothing sensation, "You might as well kiss your pansy ass goodbye."

"Who the fuck are you?" Chuck said to himself, checking his mirrors fervently to ensure that he hadn't been made before he'd turned the corner. "And what do you want with Sarah?"

Chuck decided he needed to get a closer look. Stepping tentatively out of the Herder, the coffee and croissants long forgotten, Chuck scoped the street, checking for any potential threat before he left his only point of safety. Empty, save for what looked to be a truanting pre-teen, who, misdemeanour aside, didn't seem to pose any danger.

'Maybe the intersect might actually work for once', Chuck scoffed as he began to wander back towards the complex entrance as inconspicuously as was possible in his Nerd Herder uniform, the voice in his head dripping with sarcasm.

Peeking over a conveniently placed and conveniently tall bush, just perpendicular to the apartment entrance, Chuck held his stride and was once again met with the view of Sarah's Porsche. And it's newly acquired posse.

'Casey may look like a G-man', Chuck mused, his eyes narrowing whilst never leaving the burly sentry closest to his position, 'but these guys take the biscuit.'

Just as Chuck finished an errant, and totally inappropriate at this juncture, thought about biscuits and the argument of whether Jaffa Cakes were indeed cakes or biscuits (Morgan was adamant they were the latter), a faded blob of a tattoo - which looked as though it may once have been a coiled snake - on one of the G-man's necks sent a flurry of images pouring into his head.

A cat.

A dead bird.

Nuclear weapons testing.

Emaciated corpses.

The name Roberto Forlan.

Fulcrum.

A cat.

"Shit", Chuck repeated, his new favourite word emanating from his mouth overly loudly, causing him to duck back behind the bush and out of the sight of the three Fulcrum agents.

This was pretty much as bad as things could get. Fulcrum had been pretty quiet of late, maybe due to the fact that Casey and himself had managed to destroy the majority of their intersect research facility nearly a year ago, through the creative use of C-4 and fishing wire. But to be honest, their lack of presence had both him and Casey more than a little uneasy.

Chuck ran a clammy palm through his hair. It's not even as though he could call his partner for back-up either. Casey was conveniently on his way back to Fort Meade – all the way in Maryland – to begin his annual weapons recertification this week. Although, Chuck surmised, that probably wasn't a coincidence either.

Chuck took a deep breath and closed his eyes in an attempt to sooth his fraying nerves. But the images that greeted him under the cover of his eyelids did just the opposite. He envisioned Sarah, face mashed unrecognisably, blood pouring profusely from her nose, her mouth, the deep inch long gouges that now made up her cheeks, lying broken on the floor whilst the bastards that had dared lay a hand on his angel kicked the broken figure, smoked cigarettes and joked with each other as if this was all just a walk in the park.

Chuck's eyes shot open, a steely resolve sweeping across them, his hands beginning to shake in anger at the mere thought of anyone laying a hand to Sarah.

Swiftly leaving the cover of the towering bushes, Chuck kept his head low - staring straight at the sidewalk, all the while determinedly directing his feet towards the front entrance of the apartment block, all thoughts banished from his mind, save for that of Sarah's broken body.

It was at that point, Chuck almost stumbled over his own feet. He wasn't frightened, didn't fear the guards who looked as though they could kill him with their pinky fingers – a novel experience for Chuck.

'Isn't this the part where I usually scream like a girl in terror?' Chuck mused, continuing on his path, slightly more carefully this time.

'So why aren't I?'

But as soon as Chuck had posed the question, it was answered.

Sarah.

Everything and anything always came down to her. He'd lived two years without her presence, barely scraping through, but he'd managed it. But coming face to face with the possibility that he could lose her, forever…

He needed to concentrate on protecting Sarah; everything else was secondary to that. And for once in his life, Chuck's heart and mind were united when it came to the enigma that was Sarah Walker. That Sarah Walker was, and is, everything in his universe. And he would stop at nothing to protect her.

Ignoring his initial misstep, Chuck managed to get into the lobby without a hiccup. A lanky, curly haired guy in a Nerd Herder get-up obviously wasn't on their top ten list of suspicious persons. Scanning his eyes quickly through the quiet lobby, Chuck immediately returned to his determined pacing, heading straight for the stairs, and Sarah's apartment.

Reaching the stairs, Chuck gulped. Using one hand to steady himself on the hand-rail, Chuck leaned his free hand on his knee, distorting his body into an almost question mark like pose. Letting out a long whistle of air, Chuck steeled himself before finally allowing Chuck Taylor to meet stair.

"Really Miss Walker", the voice of what Sarah assumed to be the ring leader of this little band of merry men boomed directly behind her ear.

"You're making this more and more difficult for us to do this the easy way." The last two words accompanied by a sharp yank on Sarah's golden tresses, that caused her eyes to water in agony, bringing her face to face with her captor.

"And I think you know what will happen if we do this the hard way." The invader continued, flicking a switchblade in the hand not currently attached to Sarah's hair, his stale breath above her so pungent, it almost made Sarah gag.

The man threw Sarah's head forward, hair flowing freely around her face, the back legs of the chair they'd attached her to rocking at the force. From her new position, Sarah could see her legs, attached to the front legs of the chair by plastic cable ties, which Sarah assumed was the device also used to secure her hands behind her.

'Bugger', Sarah cursed inwardly. There was no give in cable ties, not like rope. She'd need to cut herself out of her bonds, and the guys that had put her here in the first place, of whom Sarah had counted four, had taken all of her usual knives. Except the one in her right boot... Not that she would be able to reach it from here, anyway.

"Now," the ring leader began again, feeling that enough silence had passed for Sarah to fully understand the implications of non-cooperation.

"Where is The Codex?"

'What the fuck?', Sarah said to herself, refusing to allow these brutes the satisfaction of hearing her the confusion in her voice. She'd never heard of anything referred to as 'The Codex' in all her time at the CIA.

"I have no idea what you are talking about", Sarah answered nonchalantly, her sapphire eyes burning into the large man's.

Sarah was immediately rewarded with a pistol butt to the face so hard, it caused Sarah's chair to come crashing down to the floor, the side of her head impacting with the plush carpet with a thud.

"CUT THE BULLSHIT", her captor, who Sarah decided looked distinctly like a Bub, shouted, rotting flecks of food and saliva spewing from between his blackened teeth, his face mere inches from Sarah's.

"I know that you know what The Codex is, and its link to The Intersect Project", Bub continued, backing away from Sarah, but placing a swift kick to her abdomen in compensation.

'WHAT?' Sarah's mind shouted to itself, 'This has something to do with Chuck?'

"And I know that you know where it is", Bub's voice cutting through her internal monologue, a calmer, yet more sinister tone in its possession.

Sarah laughed out loud. She truly had no fucking clue where this Codex thing was, let alone what it was. As if she'd even tell them if she did know.

"Oh Bub", Sarah smirked, her laughter, which had escalated into full-fledged hysteria making it hard for her form a coherent sentence.

"Did your momma drop you on the head when you were a teeny tiny baby? Because you're one of the stupidest people I've ever met." Sarah jibed in a high pitched mocking tone, a mischievous smirk taking over her face as her captor's head suddenly turned into a plum.

"I told you already, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"SILENCE!" Bub roared the veins and arteries in his neck bulging dangerously beneath his skin. Delivering a bone shattering kick to the same place in Sarah's abdomen, Bub reached for the Browning at his back, cocking it the instant it was level with Sarah's fallen form.

"Boss!" One of Bub's cronies gasped stepping away from the door he had been guarding, this was not part of their devious plan.

"The Ring guy said he wanted her alive. You know what happens when someone disobeys his orders…"

'The Ring…", Sarah thought, still coughing, blood splattering the carpet in an artistic fanned pattern, from the earlier kick. She'd heard that name before, but she couldn't put her finger on where exactly, frustrating her to no end.

"FUCK HIM." Bub bellowed, turning his eyes in a death stare towards his terrified colleague.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS BLONDE CIA WHORE! SHE INSULTS ME, INSULTS MY MOTHER!" Upon the last word of the sentence, Bub once again turned his eyes downwards towards Sarah, a blood lust barely disguised behind those pupils she had seen many times before.

This guy wasn't kidding around.

"I'LL KILL THAT WORM DANIEL SHAW MYSELF IF I HAVE TO! I DIDN'T JOIN FULCRUM TO TAKE ORDERS FROM SOME JUMPED UP PRICK LIKE SHAW."

'So it's Fulcrum…' Sarah mused from her position on the floor, the crimson fluid no longer oozing from her nose and mouth.

'But they're working for these people … The Ring, whoever they are… more specifically a guy named Daniel Shaw…' Sarah documented the facts in her head, storing them for later when all of this could become vital intelligence.

That was, if she was ever to get out of this alive.

Suddenly, Sarah felt herself being lifted off the ground, her chair set, wobbling, back on four legs before she felt the cool metal of Bub's Browning digging into her forehead.

Her mind was racing, thoughts of her childhood, the yearly Salvation Army scam, the rocky road ice-cream reward at the end of a job well done, flooding her mind, to be eagerly replaced by that of the CIA, the CAT squad, the countless people she'd killed in the name of the greater good. Then Chuck.

Sarah clamped her eyes shut. Her coming back had potentially put Chuck in danger from these people, these murderers… Clamping her fists behind her back, a lone tear forged its path down her battered cheek.

'This', Sarah's mind wailed, the complete antithesis of her seemingly calm exterior, 'is why spy's can't fall in love. Why didn't I listen? Why did I think I could have it all?'

Sarah shook her head. She couldn't change anything, however much she would have liked, now. Besides, she'd played Morocco by the book, word for word, and look what had happened there…

Another single tear added its salty trail to its fallen brethren's, although neither was for her. These tears were for one person only. One, for the man she had left without a second glance all those years ago, the second, for the one who welcomed her back with open arms despite her betrayal.

"Boss", the smaller voice from across the room repeated, obviously anxious at his boss' actions. "We need her, the information…"

"There is another." Bub interrupted, annoyance rife in his tone, "Bukowski or Bartowski or something… He has the information too…"

Sarah's stomach dropped, her heart momentarily paralysed. It was as though her worst nightmare was coming true. They were going to kill her and then go after Chuck, with nobody to protect him…

'Oh God', Sarah panicked; the sudden urge to vomit almost over powering her. She couldn't even think about what they might do to Chuck.

"So, Agent Walker", Bub began, that black toothed grin that Sarah had come to so despise twisting his grimy face.

"Any last words before I send you to hell?"

Sarah remained completely silent. The words that Bub had spoken seemed to reach her as if they'd travelled through miles of water – garbled and unrecognisable as speech. The thought of her not being there to protect Chuck when he needed her more than ever the only thing she could put her mind to. That, and the fact that she'd blown the only chance she might ever have to tell Chuck how she truly felt.

If there was one thing she could go back and change…

"Well…" Bub continued after a pregnant pause. "I guess this is goodbye, Agent Walker. I would say it was a pleasure meeting you, but that would be a lie. And everyone knows that it's a sin to tell a lie."

Chuck made his way quickly and quietly towards the door of Sarah's apartment, using the stealth techniques Casey had taught him to avoid being caught sneaking off to Castle from the Buy More, but it was totally unnecessary. Everything seemed normal... The apartment building looked exactly as Chuck remembered it two years ago, bland and inoffensive – a strange contrast to the lime feeling of the rooms themselves, if Sarah's apartment was anything to go by.

Checking one last time for any sign of proximity alarms or cameras, Chuck sidled up to the door of Sarah's apartment, making sure to keep his body out of the way of the door itself. He'd seen enough spy movies to know what could happen when someone did that.

Getting his ear as close as possible to the door without putting it in peril, Chuck could faintly distinguish two very distinct voices. The first, a man's judging by its depth, sounded impatient, angry almost, demanding. The female voice on the other hand was nonchalant for the most part, calm and slick. Moments later, an unmistakable, angelic laugh from the female confirming to Chuck that it was indeed Sarah, was cut short with the crunch of metal on bone.

Chuck flinched backwards, the images of Sarah being tortured running rampant through his head once again were accompanied by the cacophony his heart had started to thump into his ears. It was exactly what he had envisioned down by the bush, as if the intersect had given him some magical power of foresight like those old sages in fantasy novels.

The unmistakable sound of a gun cocking brought Chuck from his reverie, replacing his fear with an anger, tinged with panic, and the unmistakable cooling sensation that accompanied a rush of adrenaline. Quivering with anger, Chuck stared at the door. He needed to get in there, to save Sarah, but he'd never done anything like this in his life. Sure, he'd seen plenty of guys do it on Cops and had seen Casey do it quite a few times, but he'd never actually done it himself.

Frantically peering around the door to look for any clue as to any structural weaknesses he could exploit, Chuck's eyes suddenly became glazed, darting back and forth in his head as his eyes met the door knob. Chuck felt winded, but powerful at the same time.

'So…' Chuck smirked, elated that something was finally going his way to help rescue Sarah, 'this is what the 2.0 feels like…'

Slamming his foot directly between the door knob and the frame, Chuck almost sent the door flying off its hinges, splinters of wood flying through the air, into Sarah's apartment.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Chuck heard the man standing nearest to Sarah, holding a gun to her, scream in anger. Three other men in the room simply stared at him in shock.

Chuck locked eyes with Sarah's. She was a mess; her face was severely swollen, with blood streaked like war paint covering her. Her hair was bloodied also, the dark crimson a stark contrast to Sarah's silky golden locks.

But her eyes. When he looked into them they told him something that her body couldn't convey. Yes, there was pain, they appeared slightly bloodshot, perhaps from tears, and there was definitely shock and fear, but there was something else also. Hidden deep within Sarah's azure eyes, behind those layers upon layers of meaning, of feeling, was something so precious to Chuck, he almost smiled in spite of himself at its presence. And that, was hope.

Within seconds, Chuck had flashed, a rush of strength surging through his body as a mixture of kick boxing and kung fu knowledge pounded through his veins. Seemingly floating from his position at the door, Chuck found himself standing directly in front of Sarah's tormentor, his right leg smashing into the man's face in a roundhouse kick Chuck wasn't even aware that he had performed, before sending him, out cold, with a palm thrust to the solar plexus, the man's Browning, which had switched its focus from Sarah to Chuck, somehow finding its way into Chuck's palm in the process.

It was the oddest sensation, and one that was completely different to that of the 1.0. An out of body type experience, Chuck would later describe to Sarah when he'd had time to analyse and recollect. But for now, he rode out the sensation, letting it take him where he needed to go in order to ensure Sarah was safe, that none of these men were going to lay a hand on her any time soon.

Awakening from what seemed to be some form of temporary paralysis, the remaining captors sprang into action, attempting to encircle Chuck and swarm him, but the Intersect was having none of it. Flashing once again, Chuck lobbed his newly acquired piece at the man directly in front of him, the butt of the gun hitting him squarely in the third eye, bringing him to his knees.

The captor to Chuck's left took this moment of weakness to strike. Chuck's right arm, still extended from throwing the gun, was met forcefully at the wrist by the black boot of the man.

Chuck screamed out as an intense shooting pain sped its way up his arm and into the back of his head. But the Intersect continued regardless. Appearing to calculate this new parameter in Chuck's fighting capability, the Intersect halted use of Chuck's right hand, in favour of the left, bringing it crashing across the neck of boot-man, now gasping for breath, who toppled backwards, his legs swept from under him almost invisibly by Chuck and causing him to fall over the back of his already incapacitated colleague. The unanticipated weight of another on top of him bringing gun-guy's chin crashing with a sickening thud into the floor, leaving him unconscious.

The last guy was a bit harder to take down. He'd obviously had some experience fighting hand-to-hand, and wasn't so easily duped as his previous cronies.

'Time to see what you can really do, 2.0', Chuck mused, the bones in his neck cracking theatrically as he crunched it to the side.

Chuck's opponent was the first to make a move. He went for right upper cut, but it was badly telegraphed, and Chuck had ample time to weave himself out of danger, setting himself up for the counter. Laying his fist into his opponents ribs, Chuck felt the air leaving his opponent's chest, causing the man to gasp. Chuck took this opportunity to strike again, attempting an attack to the solar plexus similar to that he'd administered to boot-man, but his fist was caught before it hit the target and twisted violently, causing Chuck to stumble to the side.

Now it was Chuck's turn to defend, a flurry of punches concentrated around his face causing Chuck to take the blows on his arms, unable to perform any counter strikes. Luckily, Chuck had had years of experience dealing with bullies, usually having some sort of beef with Morgan, allowing him to realise the potential devastation that could be wreaked on his aggressor due to his wide legged stance.

'Bingo', Chuck grinned, bringing his foot to meet the man's groin in a tear jerking kick. Winded, with eyes indeed watering, Chuck's opponent seemed to crumple over, hands firmly planted on his thighs as he attempted to catch his breath.

Using the Intersect to put the poor guy out of his misery, his eyes now fully streaming from the force of Chuck's kick, Chuck performed an axe kick, his heel impacting the back of the man's head, right at the brain stem, before sending him crashing limply to the floor.

Chuck stood completely still, his shoulders raising and lowering with exertion, the unconscious bodies of his fallen enemies strewn on the floor around him.

"Chuck..?" A small voice from the corner of the room greeted him, causing him to turn instantly on his heels, sprinting in the direction of the voice.

"Sarah…" Chuck replied frantically, snapping Sarah's bonds with surprising strength once he reached her before falling to his knees in front of his broken angel.

"Chuck… Where..? What..?" Sarah began, licking her dry, blood caked lips. "How did you..?"

"It's the 2.0", Chuck explained soothingly, his hands gently cradling the side of her face so as not to hurt her.

"A new version of the Intersect that's supposed to teach skills to the user on top of its data recall facilities."

"A new Intersect?" Sarah replied slowly, her head still a little fuzzy from being pistol whipped, her eyes full of shock.

"Yeah…" Chuck whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair softly behind Sarah's ear, the blow to his wrist long forgotten.

"But it's never worked before. Ever. Not properly, anyway… Nothing like what it did just now..."

Chuck glanced behind him into the carnage he, or rather the Intersect, had caused, before returning his gaze to Sarah. The odd lumps of swelling now beginning to paint her face almost breaking his heart.

"Which one did this to you?" Chuck asked, his hands ghosting over her wounds whilst his voice remained quiet despite the anger rising inside of him.

Sarah pointed feebly around Chuck to the man he had disarmed whilst remaining completely silent. Chuck turned on his heels, his eyes boring holes into the face down, limp body of the man who had dared touch Sarah Walker. Delivering two swift, yet strong kicks into the man's ribcage, safe in the knowledge that at least one rib would be broken as a result.

Turning back to Sarah, Chuck turned his features into a sombre grimace, his voice still low and secretory.

"I don't think he'll be hitting anyone else anytime soon. I've heard waking up with broken ribs can be quite painful…"

Sarah agreed a mischievous grin coming to grace her swollen features. If she'd had the energy to get up and give that guy what for, she would have done. Heck, she would have done more than kick him in the ribs, that was for sure. Turning her thoughts back over what Bub had revealed to her before his unfortunate meeting with Chuck's fist, Sarah's expression soon mellowed, a look of cold steel replacing her grin in an instant.

"They wanted something to do with the Intersect, Chuck", her voice also a whisper, a strange intimacy passing between the two as she spoke, Sarah slumped on a chair, with Chuck kneeling before her.

"They were Fulcrum…" Sarah recalled, searching her brain for the name of the other organisation Bub had mentioned.

"But they worked for something called The Ring? Someone named Daniel Shaw..?"

"Fuck", Chuck swore lightly, rubbing his hand across his face, suddenly weary.

"I know him. He's supposedly a CIA Ring expert. Casey and I worked a couple cases with him via video conference a while back…"

"Well, I guess we know where he got his expertise from", Sarah quipped humourlessly, her head sagging between her shoulders.

"Yeah…" Chuck replied absently, getting from his knees to stand at the window.

"We can't stay here, Chuck." Sarah said, breaking the tense silence that had overcome the apartment for the last couple of minutes.

"What?" Chuck replied, turning away from the window and to Sarah, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"They want you, Chuck." Sarah grimaced, the statement coming off slightly more forcefully than she'd intended.

"When these guys don't report in, they'll assume I… Dealt with them… Which means they'll be after you next. Shit, Chuck, if Daniel Shaw is CIA… This means that they know all about you…"

Panic suddenly coursed its way through Sarah's body, almost a reprieve from the constant, dull, numbing pain she felt all over her body. Almost.

"What about Ellie? What about Morgan? I can't just leave them, Sarah!" Chuck almost shouted, surprising himself, and Sarah, at the ferocity of his objection, the atmosphere suddenly becoming uncomfortably edgy.

"Chuck," Sarah stammered into the silence, tears beginning to pool in the corner of her eyes. " We have to get out of here… I don't want to…. I can't lose…"

"Shh… It's okay…", Chuck interrupted softly, his voice as soft and warm to her ears as his hands were to her face. "Where are we going to go?"

"Anywhere." Sarah stated, gently lifting herself to her, now unbound, feet, Chuck's arms instinctively encircling her in case she fell.

"Anywhere but here."

A/N 2: So what did you think? I haven't really written any action stuff before, so any feedback, good or bad, would be great! But more importantly than that, as always, make sure you have a great day :)