Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

AN: Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, or reviewed. The support is very much appreciated! I have responded to guest reviews from the first chapter at the end of this one. And now, I present the next installment of The Trickster and the Lionheart :)

The Day After the Museum

Roy Mustang poured himself a cup of coffee and groaned when he noticed the time on the clock in the kitchen. He did not arrive in Washington, D.C. until 2400 hours and still had several tasks to finish, after which he went to check on Havoc, who had been taken to a military hospital in D.C. True to her word, Loki had hit nothing vital and his partner would make a full recovery. But that made him no less irritated about his friend having been shot by the thief.

He made it back to his apartment around 0200 and found an abandoned wine bottle with glasses on the table. That jogged his memory and as he iced his balls he remembered promising his girlfriend in no uncertain terms that he would not miss her father's birthday dinner. And now, as he furiously stared at the clock declaring the time to be 0700, he could hear her stomping around as she got ready for work.

This always happens, he reminded himself when she joined him in the kitchen, slamming her purse on the counter with a glare firmly in place. At first, they always say they understand: your work is important, you catch crooks, I would never want to get in the way of that. But inevitably, after an unfixed number of missed parties, skipped anniversaries, and forgotten birthdays, that feeling would change. He always wondered if they expected him to fall madly in love with them and morph into someone that would suddenly put birthday dinners before chasing criminals. Granted, a part of him understood the fact that his priorities did not shift at all was significant.

"Seriously, what the fuck, Roy? Again?" Katie stared at him, pixie-cut brown hair perfectly styled, hand on her hip.

"Listen, babe, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you…" He tried his charming smile, and a grin started to quirk her lips. "…but you know I'm on a new case. And it's a big one. This could make or break my career." It wasn't like he could explain his obsession to Katie; she would never understand. It was difficult to tell if he was finding the wrong women, or was just a shitty guy.

"Oh yes, your career...the third member of this relationship. You've been researching this 'new' case nonstop for two months, Roy. You know more about this fucking thief than you do about me," she angrily gestured toward herself with the last word and then angrily poured coffee.

"That is not even remotely true," he responded, trying to fight back an amused chuckle at the thought of how little he knew about Loki and her crew.

"What's my middle name, Roy?" Katie watched him, head cocked to the side, her face saying she believed she'd already won.

He shrugged, briefly searching the ceiling for the answer. "I don't know. Ok? But that doesn't mean shit. Do you know mine?"

"No, that's part of my point. We've been seeing each other for months, and I hardly know anything about you. It's all flirting and jokes with you…nothing serious. So I guess I should have realized. Have you even noticed that I spend most nights at my apartment anyway? The sex is great, don't get me wrong, but I don't think you realize when I leave."

No…it's ok…and no, he thought. That probably means something.

Katie put the lid on her to-go cup quite forcefully and looked at him again. "And, I don't know what your deal is, but you need a life. For real. Your only friends are your partner and that Interpol guy Hughes.

He sighed and said, "Look, I get it. You deserve to be with someone that makes time for you. My priority has to be work right now, and I believe I made that clear. What did you expect? That I would change for you?"

"I don't know, Roy," she shrugged. "I guess I thought I'd be more interesting than a damn case file." Katie picked up her purse, along with another bag by her feet that he had not noticed before. "I have all my stuff. I won't be coming back." She exhaled. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're actually a decent guy, Roy, really. But you're fucking useless in the boyfriend department." She took a few steps away, and then something occurred to her. "Maybe you just need to find someone, I don't know…more like you…like, incapable of human emotion."

At that his mouth fell open slightly and he shook his head, hands raised in a 'what the hell' gesture. Katie was out the door with a huff before he could reply and Roy ran out the door a few minutes later when he saw the time. Jumping into his car, he took out his phone, turned it to speaker, and dialed Interpol Agent Maes Hughes' cell phone number. It rang a few times, stopped, and he said, "I am not incapable of human emotion."

Maes' response was to cackle. "Katie's gone, then?"

He ran his free hand over his chin and sighed with a chuckle. "Yes." Taking a drink of his coffee he added, "But, silver lining, we found the crew. They use code-names from Norse mythology."

"You're shitting me! God, I hate you sometimes. You put this case together, make breakthroughs no one else managed. Freaking golden boy." Maes had been his closest friend since childhood, and he'd lived with the Hughes family for a short time after the death of his parents. They went to the same university and had even served in the military together.

Roy laughed. "I am no golden boy…but do you want to know the kicker?"

"Hell yes. It gets better?"

"Havoc and I got a glimpse of Loki, and I think she's the leader."

"Nicely done. Any photos?"

"No, but I'm thinking we'll do a sketch." Roy sighed before gulping more liquid caffeine. "These people are good, Maes. I've never seen anything like this crew."

"Well, I think we knew they had to be good. I mean, the thefts you potentially linked go back two years."

"I know. But I'm saying it called Zeus to mind. As in holy shit."

"Damn. Do you think that's why you're on the case?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But since it was my team that made the connections, I would have raised hell if we weren't given the case."

"Fair enough." Maes paused, and Roy heard him take a breath. "Hey, man. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I should have done the right thing and ended it with Katie before. I learned." Roy pulled into the parking lot and showed his badge to the security guard who then let him through.

Maes chuckled. "I'm sure you did. But that's not what I was talking about. You know what day it is, right?"

Suddenly Roy felt a familiar dread settle in the pit of his stomach and he glanced at the date that appeared on his phone. He parked the car, white-knuckling the steering wheel, and for a moment was back in his old house with his mouth open in a silent scream, eyes like saucers. The brick wall before him disappeared, and instead he saw his parents' bodies on the kitchen floor, dark red pools fanned out around their heads. He could still smell the blood, and his own shouts reverberated as if from a distance, calling their names. His initial scream must not have been so silent because then he remembered Mr. Hughes running into the house.

He never found out what really happened to them because, when he was a kid, no one told him anything. And ever since he'd been in law enforcement, the records had been sealed. Part of him feared that it would remain a mystery forever, and his other half worried about what would happen if he actually found out. It was part of what drove him in his career, however, because perhaps the more villains he put away, the fewer nine-year-olds would find their parents dead.

Maes voice slowly called him back to the present. "Roy? Hey, you still there?"

"Yeah…" He cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry. I'm here. I just dazed off for a minute."

"Shit, man. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, it's fine. I would have noticed the date eventually. Better now than later." He grabbed for his coffee, wishing briefly that it was spiked.

"Ok. Drinks tonight, right?" Hughes' voice still conveyed concern and apprehension, but Roy was truly glad he'd brought it up when he did.

"Yeah, definitely. Breda and I were gonna go to Bluto's."

"Wait, what's up with Havoc?"

"Oh, shit. I didn't tell you? He got shot…he's in the hospital."

"What the hell? By who?"

"By Loki."

"There is clearly more of this story that I have to hear."

"I'll fill you in later. But I'm at work."

"Sounds good. See ya."

"See ya, man."

Roy exited his vehicle and strode through the garage toward the elevator, once more thinking about the case and feeling moderately better about his day. He swiped his key card over the pad and after a short elevator ride stepped into a hall that was all beige walls, glass-doored offices, and fluorescent lighting. The scent of brewing coffee filled the air and the office was already bustling with other agents. Rather than enter his own office he walked directly toward that of his boss, Gene Raven, Assistant Director of the Criminal Investigative Division. Plopping down into a chair across the desk from the older man he greeted, "Morning, sir."

"Mornin', kid. You're looking chipper." He chuckled at something he was reading. "Last night went well?"

Roy shrugged a shoulder. "I'm sure it could have gone better, but the crew was there and we got a look at one of them. So, I'm not too disappointed." His lips curved upward as he drank.

"Not bad," Raven replied as he moved papers about his desk. The man was all sharp angles, with hands the size of bear's paws and close-shorn silver hair. "We didn't know there was a crew to find until you and your team linked those unsolved thefts. Now you've proven they're out there. What else have you got?"

"It's a five-person crew, two women and three men. They use codenames based in Norse mythology: Loki, Odin, Freya, Freyr, and Sig, which I think is short for Sigurd or Sigmund. Some hi-profile thefts, some not. It's difficult to get an exact read, but I think we've found several cases that can safely be attributed to them."

"Alright. But I think your gender ratio is off, or my recollection of Norse deities is. I believe I heard the names of three gods, one hero, and one goddess."

"Oh, yes. This team's Loki is a woman."

"Ahh…the trickster," Raven chuckled as he focused his attention on a document for an instant.

"I suppose so, yes." After a sip he asked, "Sir, am I on this case because of Zeus?"

The older man set the paper down, laced his hands together on top of the desk, and watched Roy unblinking. "If I say yes, is that a problem?"

"Not at all, sir. I was merely curious. This is a major case and I appreciate the opportunity."

"Good. You figured out Zeus on your own, after only a couple years. And your team made this discovery. You earned this chance." He resumed his paper-pushing and added, "How's Agent Havoc?"

"He's fine, sir. Milking the injury for all it's worth." Roy chuckled.

"I would expect nothing less," he grinned. "I've got to make a call, kid. Nice work, and keep me posted on the case."

"Of course, sir." He nodded his head and then left the office, stopping into his own to grab a file and then returning to his vehicle.

He rolled down the windows as he left the garage, considering various routes before selecting the most efficient. Leaning his head back he exhaled, tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel as he stared ahead. He'd had to put memories of his parents on the back burner for his meeting with Raven, but now they could resurface. That intense sadness returned as he pictured them, thinking about how different his life might have been. He was grateful to the Hughes family and his Aunt for taking him in, but he missed out on so many moments with his parents. As the years passed, memories of them faded, and whenever he thought of them, the image that came to mind most quickly was that scene in the kitchen. He always felt a sharp tug in his chest because he deeply wished for a different memory of them to be at the forefront. They deserved happier recollections.

He continued to drive, letting the music relax him and approximately a half-hour later he reached the hospital. Breda had sent him a text message with the room number so he went directly to the elevator and managed to slip into a car that was just about to close. Once on the fourth floor Roy strolled down the hallway, checking the signs next to rooms as he went, and had just located Havoc's door when he collided with a nurse. His hands reflexively grasped her arms to keep her from losing balance and he felt one of her hands grab his upper arm while the other gripped the lapel of his suit jacket. "Excuse me," he began with a small smile. "I wasn't watching where I was going." He noticed she wore blue scrubs and had short, black hair.

She chuckled with a grin, one hand moving over her chest. "Whew...you startled me."

"Sorry." His laugh was slightly self-conscious.

"Oh no, sir. You're alright...I should have been paying more attention." She bent to pick up something she'd dropped. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, thank you, I found the room I was looking for." He gestured toward Havoc's room as he spoke.

"Alright." She gave him a friendly smile. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too."

He watched her for a second and then turned into the room, where he was met with Hughes' expression of amused disbelief. "She kicked your ass?!" His friend laughed and continued, "You failed to mention that earlier."

As he strolled further into the room, he said, "Seriously, Havoc? Are you telling everyone?"

"Only everyone who will listen," the patient responded, doubled over, failing to contain his mirth.

"And Maes? Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Boss, we wouldn't be true friends if we didn't throw this in your face repeatedly for at least three months." Breda turned to the man in the bed. "Right, Havoc?"

"That sounds like the minimum requirement, yes."

"Alright, alright," Roy waved them off. "Hughes, you're distracting my team, and we need to have a meeting." They shook hands and with a final wave Maes left and he turned back to his team. "Is the room clean?" He visually examined the glaringly white walls and tiled floors as he awaited a reply.

"Indeed it is," Breda replied as Maria Ross closed the door to the private hospital room. "I swept this and the two adjacent rooms…bug free."

"Good. What do we have from last night?"

"You mean, besides Havoc's deeply pathetic crush on our target?" Breda asked, laughing at their injured friend's glare. "I have some stills for you to look at and see what you think. But they looped footage pretty early so I'm not sure how much we got them on tape."

"The tactical equipment on the roof is a dead end," Ross took over. "All serial numbers are gone. The tech was able to narrow it down to a particular manufacturer, but there was no way to isolate a batch number or point of sale."

"We recovered the bullet that grazed Havoc's leg," Falman added. "The round was nothing special, and the most the ballistics analyst could determine was that it may have been fired from a Smith and Wesson M&P9. Thus, nothing unique or traceable there. Both the firearm and ammo are quite common, even widely used in the FBI."

"Law enforcement or military training could make sense," Havoc nodded thoughtfully. "The way she fought…she definitely had training, and lots of practice. Also, after she apparently rappelled down the side of a building...awesome by the way...she ran to a parking lot which is where we lose her. No video surveillance."

Breda once more picked up the thread. "We don't have anything from the office yet, and the guy that works there is on his way home from a vacation in the Bahamas. He'll be able to tell us what's missing but, in the meantime, they're dusting for prints and I'll take a look at the computer."

Roy suppressed a wry snicker and stood with his hands on his hips, giving a shake of the head. "It's hard to believe they left us with so little." Pacing toward the window, he inhaled slowly. "Ok, Breda, I want you and Havoc to create a composite sketch of Loki." He turned around, his back to the window. "Run it through mug-shot, law enforcement, and military databases. And send it to Hughes so he can compare it to databases he has access to."

"Will do, Boss," Breda confirmed.

"Also, I want you to get stills of people from last night that are looking away from the camera. Looking down, to the side, hand shielding the face, whatever. Everyone else, go over all info from the scene last night and files of past thefts. Look for any similarities."

The morning after their fun at the museum, Riza relaxed in the General's safe house in the city, enjoying a warm cup of coffee along with the excellent view. She had a particularly important meeting today and had decided to spend the night in the city rather than return to their base of operations. The fact that she had such a luxurious apartment to herself for the evening was a bonus. While she loved her team, she needed time alone on occasion.

Pleased with the outcome of their mission the night before, she was not surprised that federal agents had finally found them. Over the past few years they had pulled numerous jobs and it was only a matter of time before someone put them together. She would naturally do more research, but at the outset the FBI group seemed capable. Still, she had complete faith in her team; they were the best.

It was just around 0700 as she took another drink, in the midst of turning the page in her book, when her phone buzzed. Fuery: He just left his apartment. She responded with a quick 'Thanks' and then drained her coffee, cleaning up her breakfast before moving into her bedroom. Riza showered and got ready, covering her hair with a black wig and dressing in a set of blue scrubs she'd taken the time to borrow from the hospital the night before. By the time she'd driven to the facility where Agent Havoc had been taken she received another update. Fuery: He's nearly there.

She approached the building, clipping a borrowed ID badge to her scrub top and once inside grabbed a clipboard. As she took the stairs up to the fourth floor she placed a small, adhesive listening device between two fingers of her left hand. At the door she carefully looked through the window, a pleased smirk on her features when she saw Agent Mustang rounding the corner from the bank of elevators. Perfect timing.

Riza exited the stairwell, moving quickly and looking like nothing more than a hospital employee hard at work. She jotted a few meaningless things down before 'accidentally' running into Agent Mustang just outside of Agent Havoc's room. The clipboard fell to the floor and she let her balance falter so he would catch her. When he grabbed her arms, her right hand grasped his arm while her left deftly attached the listening device to his lapel. She had the thought that it would be fun to lift something of his: like his badge, or his wallet, for instance. But she resisted the temptation.

"Excuse me," he said, keeping a hold of her until she was steady. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

She grinned widely and gave a laugh, placing one hand on her chest as if recovering from a surprise. "Whew...you startled me."

He smiled somewhat self-consciously and accompanied it with a chuckle. "Sorry."

"Oh no, sir. You're alright...I should have been paying more attention." She bent to pick up the clipboard and then looked at him. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, thank you, I found the room I was looking for." He pointed a thumb at the room nearest them, which she knew to be Agent Havoc's.

"Alright." She smiled again and gave a small wave. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too."

She walked away and laughed to herself when, from within the room, she heard someone loudly say, "She kicked your ass?!" Riza continued to distance herself from the room and returned directly to her car, depositing the clipboard on a random counter along the way. On the way out of town, her phone buzzed again. Fuery: Device transmitting perfectly. After a forty-five minute drive she reached a nature preserve and found a secluded parking space. Grabbing her tea and her bag, she followed the agreed-upon trail, feeling the damp chill that hung in the air.

She strolled for fifteen minutes, relieved to find little foot traffic present on the trail. The silence was comforting, and at the same time almost eerie as innumerable trees rose around her like sentinels. Not a breeze disturbed the forest calm, and the only audible noise was the crunch of her shoes meeting the dirt trail. Riza focused on the lake up ahead and did not start when running footfalls came from behind.

Her long-time friend Olivier Armstrong, Director of Counterintelligence for the CIA, fell into step beside her, re-securing her long golden strands with a hair tie. Her ice-blue eyes found Riza's mocha browns for an instant and she asked, "Are we clear?"

"It's the strangest thing, but any cameras maintained by this park seem to be having some technical difficulties at the moment," she replied, bringing her mug to her curved lips.

"How odd," Olivier rejoined with a smirk, mirth carrying in her voice. "And based on my phone you're carrying a signal jammer as well."

"I suppose you're right, I'm too cautious."

"As your friend, I'd say you are. But as your handler, it's one of my favorite things about you." She examined her out of the corner of her eye. "Did you make a career change since we last spoke?"

Riza chuckled, glancing down at the scrubs she still wore. "No, I had to plant a bug on someone at a hospital and didn't stop to change." They reached the lake and began to follow the shoreline along the curving body of water. Riza reached into a jacket pocket and produced the USB drive she'd taken from the office at the museum, handing it to Olivier. "The system we found the files on was destroyed…it will look like a virus from a porn site. The files were limited to that system on a hidden partition and, as far as I can tell, no information had yet been sold."

"Good," the other woman replied. "I have other people bringing the man in for questioning. We know who he was working for but we need to find out if there are any more individuals in the network already stateside." After taking a deep breath she added, "And good work with the files. Had those gotten into anyone else's hands…"

"Bad news."

"Precisely." She nodded, looking out over the lake. "Any complications?"

"Nothing we can't handle. There's an FBI agent that's linked some of the jobs we've pulled…he and his team were at the museum. They saw me near the office, but they don't know what we were really after and won't be able to find me." She wrapped her hands around her tea to warm them as she watched the mostly calm surface.

"Alright. Keep me posted. If you need anything…" They glanced at each other.

"Thank you. But we'll do our best not to." Riza paused to take a sip. "Would you like to hear the icing on the cake?" Seeing Olivier's reluctant nod, she continued, "The FBI agent that's on our tail is the same one that discovered my Dad…I recalled my father talking about him."

"Well, that's interesting. I can't say I expected that."

She chuckled. "Neither did I." She then asked, "Do you have anything else for me?"

"Not right now, but I will soon."

"Sounds good. How are things?"

"Not bad. The same as usual, honestly. Meetings, dealing with people…I miss the field."

"We miss you too," Riza replied with a nudge to her friend's side. "What happened with that guy? Ya know…tall, muscly, sandy brown hair…he was a lawyer or something."

"Oh, right. He was…great. But I've realized that normal men are boring for me. If I know I can beat them to a pulp without breaking a sweat I'm just not interested." She shrugged a shoulder. "So, we'll see."

"Good luck," she laughed.

"Oh, FYI, I am looking into another arms dealer. He calls himself the Duke…it's most likely one of the jobs I'll be having for you in the near future."

"Alright. We'll be pulling a few retrievals in the meantime…to conserve our cover, of course."

"Of course." Olivier turned to face her and handed her a small bag of a material similar to velvet. "Your payment. Untraceable, as usual." She took another deep breath, a modest smile breaking onto her features. "I'm off…have to get to work." She stretched. "We'll be in touch. It was nice seeing you, Riz."

"Thanks, Liv. You too...and have fun," she told her friend, tucking the bag into a secure pocket.

"I always do." With a final shared grin, the other blonde was gone, running up the trail at a speed that would be extremely challenging for anyone else.

Riza waited a few minutes and then turned to follow the trail back to the parking lot. Just before reaching it, she tossed the car keys with one gloved hand into the trees. From the edge of the woods, she surveyed the sparsely occupied lot before her until she found the vehicle she was looking for and strode toward it.

Once there, Riza opened the front passenger door and took a seat, throwing her bag in the back and fastening her seat-belt in the process. Glancing at the driver, she smiled in greeting and said, "Hey Bec. We're good to go…I wiped down the other car."

"Hey," her friend replied, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the space, directing the car toward the road. "Have a nice night?"

"It was relaxing, yes. And you?"

"Quiet. Everyone is accounted for…But the old man already jetted off to some unknown, and I assume remote, locale." She turned the steering wheel, leaving the park in favor of the road beyond.

"He has a habit of doing that. He'll be back…" She took a sip. "I could use a trip myself."

"That he does, and so could I." Her friend glanced at her, mischievous smirk blossoming on her face. "We could disappear in Brazil for a little while…I mean, my birthday is coming up."

"I'm in."

"Good, we're leaving tomorrow. I already called to have the jet ready."

Riza chuckled. "I didn't realize you'd already made plans…but I'm in."

"Oh, we've been monitoring the bug you placed on Mustang. We listened to their meeting in the hospital. They don't know anything, but we'll keep observing until the device dies...or is found. Is there another job for us?"

"Not yet. Probably in a few weeks, so we have plenty of time for Brazil."

"That's good. Whatever will we do there?"

Smiling, she responded, "I can think of an item or two we might acquire." The two women shared a pleased, and slightly sly, grin.

A couple hours later, Riza strolled into their safe-house and home-base along with Rebecca, dropping her bag at the foot of the stairs. It was a three-story domicile situated on an ocean front property along Virginia's coast. Their base was secluded, at a sufficient distance from any neighbors, and in an area that happened to be populated by the wealthy that enjoyed their privacy. In addition, there were sensors and other security measures located at strategic points throughout the property. The area surrounding the house was largely wooded, save the beachfront, and as she walked through the kitchen to the open family room she noticed the ocean looked a steely gray.

She paused for a moment behind Fuery, who was playing a video game on his impressive computer set-up, giving him a smile when he glanced at her. He returned the silent greeting and nodded his head in thanks when she placed a package on his desk that had arrived for him, likely containing the bubble gum which he ordered in bulk. She half removed his headphones to say, "Becca and I are going to Brazil tomorrow if you'd like to join."

"Maybe…" His head tilted thoughtfully as he considered the invitation. "I'll let you know."

Riza nodded and then walked to the bar at one end of the room, pouring two glasses of chardonnay for herself and Rebecca. As they took seats in the screened-in sunroom, the sea breeze drifting lazily through, she asked, "Did Fuery keep a copy of the files?"

Rebecca took the proffered glass and sipped, replying, "Of course. You never know what might be useful, right?"

"Right," she dipped her head in agreement. "I thought you said everyone was accounted for. Where's Denny?"

"Oh, he went off to see that girl he drops in on occasionally. Stacey or something."

"That was fast." She took a sip, savoring the delightfully dry wine with hints of citrus and vanilla.

"I don't think they've been able to meet for a while." After a drink she added, "She gave you our payment?"

Riza bobbed her head. "I'll have grandfather contact his friend when he returns from his impromptu vacation." She handed the small bag to the brunette who opened it, letting a small pile of exquisite diamonds fall onto her palm like glittering raindrops.

"I never get tired of these." A soft giggle escaped her as she returned the gems to the fabric bag. They clinked glasses, their toast to a successful job, and settled back to watch the storm roll-in over the water. "So…these things we could acquire…?"

"Mmm…Yes. In Brazil there's a painting, and then I was thinking Santiago, L.A., and Paris…to name a few."

"I do love Paris. What will be there?"

"Well, I thought soon we'd pay a visit to a Duke friend of mine."

Rebecca glanced at her, eyes somewhat wider than usual. "Wait, the Duke? That's what our next target might be?"

"Yes."

"I would love to take that ass-hat down."

"I didn't think you'd mind." Riza chuckled, noticing the water was getting a bit rougher.

"Well, the entitled prick has been supplying terrorist organizations."

"I know. And I've heard he's started dealing in information as well."

"Which makes him of interest to our department." Her friend's pleasure at the turn of events was clear in her voice.

"Exactly."

AN: Hello! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and have a great day! :)

Responses to guest reviews (in order of posting):

Guest: I'm glad to hear you liked the first chapter, and I hope you like the update!

Hermit Crab: I'm so happy to hear it was fun to read! I really enjoyed writing their banter.

Guest: I'm having so much fun with this AU, so I'm glad it's caught your interest.