Sorry for the long wait! Again…

Birkhoff trailed behind Michael as he strode through the hallways of Division. He was moving as fast as he could without breaking into an all out run to keep up with Michael. He only caught up with him when he paused next to a door and waited for him to open it. Michael couldn't open it himself because he held the only part of Birkhoff's life that he cared about. He was carrying Claire.

Michael led Birkhoff to the Medical wing and Birkhoff entered the pass code to gain entry. Inside a doctor and two technicians stood waiting already dressed in gowns, hairnets, masks, and gloves.

"Put her on the table" The doctor directed Michael. Birkhoff stopped near the door. "I'll give you status updates hourly." The doctor said as Michael stepped away from the table and the technicians moved toward Claire. He saw one of the technicians fasten a hand cuff around Claire's wrist. It was overkill Birkhoff thought, did a girl who had been unconscious for nearly two hours really need to be handcuffed? Where would she go?

"Alright" Michael said and he turned his back to the doctors. He grabbed Birkhoff's shoulder as he left the room and dragged him along. Birkhoff allowed him to pull him, he knew he needed to leave, there was nothing he could do if the Doctor's couldn't work their magic. Birkhoff stumbled down the short staircase that led to his work room. He sat down on his couch and waited. He knew Michael was about to turn on him, he'd figure since he couldn't get Claire to crack he'd try him. It was only a matter of seconds before the interrogation would begin. He heard Michael in the hallway above his the tech room shutting and locking doors. When he came back into view his face was serious, back to the stoic Michael that he usually dealt with.

"Tell me everything!" he barked as he bounded down the stairs toward Birkhoff.

Too predictable.Thought Birkhoff. "There's nothing to tell… I just didn't want you to let that girl die." He said. "I mean come on, she's kinda hot, right? Before Roan beat her to a pulp…" He said trying his hardest to find the acerbic personality he used at Division and suppress everything inside of him that was Claire's.

"Fine," Michael said. "I heard too much today, its going into my report. You'll have to answer to Amanda."

"Screw Amanda…"

"I'll put that in the report too." Michael said as he turned to leave.

As much as Birkhoff wanted to stay silent and to keep his relationship with Claire a secret he couldn't have Michael putting it into a report and sending it to Amanda. Michael knowing the truth was bad, but Amanda or Percy knowing the truth was much, much worse. "I thought we had an understanding!" Birkhoff shouted and Michael turned around slightly. "I kept my mouth shut with Nikita! Everything I heard over the coms, security footage, even that night in Russia when you almost slept with her! You two never learned to shut down your coms. I didn't report a thing." Birkhoff growled as he stood up and got in Michael's face. "And I never told anyone that you hacked the mission's database and tried to reroute the cleaner the night Daniel was killed." Michael pulled back slightly from Birkhoff. "I never told Percy those nights you went out looking for her, I just rerouted your tracker and hid the evidence." Michael's eyes narrowed, Birkhoff had never said a word to anyone, not even Michael about what he had done to keep his friend safe. "Even now." He whispered. "I know you won't pull the trigger on Nikita… and so does Percy. But only I heard you give her the 'headstart' just outside the congressional party three months ago. Just before she shot you." Birkhoff saw Michael's eyes flare and his hand go instinctually to his gun. It was what Birkhoff wanted, to show Michael the lengths he had gone to in order to keep him, and Nikita out of trouble.

"That never happened!" Michael snapped. "I pursued her outside of the party where she shot me."

"Yea, alright fine… but you're cell phone's bugged and has been for the last two upgrades. I know, Percy forgot to mention that."

Michael took his hand from his gun and shoved it into his pocket for his phone. "I disabled it back at the safehouse, no one heard us tonight." Birkhoff said "If you'd had any other opp support agent assigned to you all these years, you and Nikita would both be dead."

"The 'understanding' goes both ways. I know what you do in the conference room after hours."

"Dude, everyone knows what I do in the conference room after hours! No one cares!" Birkhoff shouted.

"Then tell me what's going on now, cause if that girl talks, and you know eventually she will. She's gonna say something about you."

"There's nothing going on." Birkhoff said.

"Bull." Michael answered. "She's the girl you 'thanked' me for saving in the museum."

Birkhoff stayed a stoic as possible. "That doesn't prove anything." He hissed.

"No but your behavior tonight forms a pattern." Michael said. "before I had a suspicion, I don't need to report suspicions. But patterns… Patterns are reported to Amanda." Michael watched as Birkhoff backed away from him slowly, clearly contemplating his options.

"Damit!" Birkhoff shouted finally as he collapsed back down on the couch. "We went out a couple times a few months back. I put an end to it when I discovered she was an agent. After I ended it I checked everything, I couldn't find any evidence that she'd gotten any intelligence from me so I let it be. I haven't seen her in at least four months but I knew what Division would do if I reported it."

Michael took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "And what do you know about the hard drives?"

"Nothing." Birkhoff said. "I swear Michael, nothing but what I found on her phone."

Michael watched his reaction, nothing in Birkhoff's face indicated he was lying. He was bad at lying, well at least Michael thought he was bad at lying. The recruits and agents never seemed to be able to tell. He either got twitchy or overly confident, it was always one extreme or the other. Tonight Birkhoff was exhausted but still running on high. He wasn't twichey or confident, he was just on edge. Michael knew from Birkhoff's reaction that he was hiding much more about Lena. But He didn't need the details, he needed to get a broader sense of Birkhoff and Lena's connection.

"Why is she after Division?" Michael asked after a long pause.

"I don't know." Birkhoff answered quietly.

"Stop lying to me!" Michael accused

"I'm not!"

"Yeah you are, you're trying to protect her." Michael said and Birkhoff shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He pulled over the desk chair and sat across from him. "Or maybe, you're trying to protect yourself."

"Fuck you." Birkhoff snapped.

"Look, I don't want to kill her Birkhoff, maybe if you tell me the truth we can find a way to get her out."

"Have you ever seen Division 'let' a prisoner go?" He questioned angrily

"No, not let her go but… recruit her." Michael said. Birkhoff rolled his eyes dramatically. "I've seen her work, she'd pass training with flying colors. Then when its all said and done, fake her death, or she just disappears."

Birkhoff shook his head back and forth. "You're playing me…" he growled. "we both know that's not possible."

"maybe not, but it might be your only shot." Michael said calmly, and Birkhoff didn't openly object. "Why is she after Division?"

"When we broke up," he said "she mentioned that Division had taken stuff from her….stuff she could never get back...and she said that she wanted to get back whatever she could."

"Get back? What?"

"I don't know...she said that during an argument. I wasn't interested at the time."

Michael leaned back and thought about the possibility of putting him in the interrogation room with her, maybe he could get her to tell him everything and then he could watch the tape. He played with the idea for a moment before he decided it wouldn't work. He kept forgetting that even though Birkhoff was cooperating now it was unlikely he would cooperate under different circumstances. Birkhoff was smart and if he gave him the opportunity to sit back and analyze the situation, he'd poke holes in whatever intricately designed scenario he conceived. He'd never go along with it. Then there was the other glaring hole... Lena might not live out the night. Finally he abandoned the idea, "what else?"

"That's all I know, I swear, we never talked about Division except during our very last argument." Michael believed him.

"How did you meet her?" he asked

"On a flight." Birkhoff said. "It was random Michael, I looked it up after I broke up with her, she bought her ticket before I bought mine. She wasn't marking me…"

"what was the destination?"

"South Africa."

Michael inhaled sharply and Birkhoff winced. He knew Claire had killed a Division agent while they were in South Africa, but he managed to cover that up as a weapons malfunction. "The hard drive stored in South Africa was the first drive she acquired."

"Michael, I had no idea!" Birkhoff pleaded

"She stole it two months after your initial trip."

"No that can't be… she was in New York!" birkhoff said, but shut his mouth immediately. "I mean… ok.. that was when I saw her a lot. I don't think she jetted off to South Africa and back during those two months."

"Then she had an accomplice…" Michael said dismissively "It doesn't change the fact she procured it. Did she ever have access to your laptop… maybe while you slept… or showered?" He watched as the man on the couch unconsciously ran his hand through his shaggy hair.

"Yes, but, You can't hack my laptop. Its not possible, the security on that thing is tighter than any network in the world. Without a series of my own pass codes, that I constantly change you can't access anything."

"But its possible."

"No, no its not. I checked and rechecked that laptop, nothing was compromised. Anyway, I didn't even have access to the hard drives so what information would she have gotten from me?"

"Well you're laptop also outlines Division's security systems. If she wanted the rest of the boxes then maybe she was planning to hack the Division network and get the information."

"No, you can't hack Division, the only person who even has a chance of doing that is me."

"Maybe she was going to convince you to do just that for her."

"She never asked…" He answered

"And Nikita…" Michael questioned.

"She never once mentioned Nikita." he said forcefully, and Michael let the subject rest he didn't want to talk about Nikita.

"Ok" Michael said quickly, changing the subject. "What was her cover?"

"I don't see why you need to know all this…" Birkhoff started

"you need to report everything let me decide what is relevant."

Birkhoff sat back further into the couch, he hated when people assumed he was stupid. They never gave him credit for making them look like James Bond. But he handed them almost every move. There wasn't even one agent at Division that he hadn't bailed out at least once but no one appreciated that. "Security," he said finally. "Her father ran a private security company and she designed some of the systems."

"Did you ever meet this father?"

"No."

"Security…" Michael said as he contemplated the possibilities. "And when did you end it?"

"I saw her on the security footage during the Lauriet mission." He answered. "I ended it that night. I know I should have reported her but… I didn't. She told me she was CIA and I guess I hoped she was telling the truth."

"I think she is CIA." Michael said. "Not officially, and not exclusively. But there is some truth to that statement."

Michael watched as Birkhoff seemed to shrivel back into the couch cushions. He was upset with the situation Birkhoff had gotten himself into, but he knew that the day would come. It happened with so many agents. They met someone on the outside and they compromised their cover. Nikita had done it and now so had Birkhoff. Unfortunately the woman that Birkhoff met wasn't an innocent bystander like Nikita's Daniel had been. This time she was involved. Exactly how and why she was involved wasn't quite clear to him. He'd need to keep digging. What was becoming clear was that Birkhoff didn't know much more.

"And you haven't seen her since you broke up?"

"No."

"Or had any contact."

"Not until tonight."

Michael knew this wouldn't end well, even if Michael could conceal his involvement, Birkhoff wouldn't be able to stay neutral when Lena was cancelled. He'd expose himself in grief and he'd end up dead. Or worse, Amanda would interrogate him and he would expose them both. But if Michael put Birkhoff's information in his report, he'd be cancelled immediately. There was no way Birkhoff would get out of this alive.

As if he was reading his mind he changed the subject. "Michael, if she lives out the night, just give me a couple days to come up with something..."

Michael shook his head and stood up from his chair. He started to walk away then turned back sharply. "I can't do that."

"please," Birkhoff begged, "Whatever you want! Name your price."

"there is no price-"

"Tariq" he shouted. "I'll find him."

"You can't." Birkhoff shouting Tariq's name took him aback, that wasn't what they were talking about.

"I will find a way, just give me Cl- Lena."

"And if she dies tonight?"

"then I start looking for Tariq tomorrow." Michael marched across the room but stopped when he reached the stairs.

"No." Michael said with finality but he could tell Birkhoff didn't believe him. "No!" He shouted louder.

"I've never asked you for anything." Birkhoff said quietly. Michael shook his head back and forth as he started up the stairs,

"I'm going to follow protocol." Michael said, repeating his position on the matter. But he stopped at the top of the stairs, there was one question he hadn't answered and he wanted a truthful answer. "Birkhoff, what name did she give you?"

He hesitated, he always had a suspicion that Claire had been her real name, he didn't want to give up that last secret. "Lena Ross." He said finally.

"Ah-" she gasped as she tried to move. A sharp pain coursed through her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut and laid rigid until it subsided. "oww." She breathed as it stopped. She stayed still for a moment, letting her mind clear before she took in her surroundings. She opened her eyes to the glow florescent lights in a solid cement room. She shut them as quickly as she'd opened them, the light was too much. The only sound she could hear was the subtle hum of the air exchange system. She tried to move her left arm to wipe her eyes, but something held it down to the bed. She slowly turned her head just enough to see her hand. She opened her eyes for just a second, long enough to see the dark purple bruises covering her wrist under the restraint. She tried to wiggle her fingers in her left hand but when she did another sharp pain shot up her arm. She squeezed her eyes shut tight to keep from crying out. When that pain stopped she turned her head to look at her right hand. This hand was bound to the bed by a standard hand cuff and wasn't nearly as bruised as the other, but this hand also had an IV attached. Oh, that's not good. She thought.

She thought back how she got in this mess. Birkhoff's attempt to rescue her hadn't worked. The tiny window that they had slammed shut too quickly. It hadn't taken long for the man with the glasses to arrive. She didn't remember much after that, but whatever that man had done had left her here in this bed with a sharp pain in her chest, face, and left wrist. She prayed Birkhoff hadn't met a similar fate.

This must be Division, she thought, it was the only logical conclusion. She shut her eyes again, the bright lights were making her dizzy, but when she shut her eyes the dizziness didn't subside. Neither did the nauseous feeling that she was beginning to notice. She tried to lay as still as possible, moving was only making things worse. She couldn't tell if she'd fallen back asleep but eventually a soft click at the door caught her attention. She heard someone take four slow steps inside the room and door clicked shut behind them. She forced her eyes back open.

Birkhoff stood nervously next to the door. "Claire?" he said quietly.

"You should go." She whispered finding her voice wasn't nearly as strong as she wanted it to be. "If they catch you..."

"They won't." he said as he stepped more confidently across the room. "The cameras in this area are looped. And anyone who would care is gone for the night." He said as he began to untie the restraints on her arm.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he moved on to the restraints on her feet. She was exhausted and the lights were making her dizzy again.

"I.. I don't know." He said as he finished untying the restraints and got to the handcuff. He didn't have the key.

"B. I can't." she sighed. She could hardly move and it was already difficult to stay awake. "It's too soon."

"You've been here three days" he whispered. But Claire didn't argue again she simply closed her eyes and for a second he thought she was asleep again. "Claire, wake up you have to move." He pulled a small screwdriver from his pocket and carefully leaned over Claire to pick the hand cuff. "Amanda's scheduled to question you today." Birkhoff said "We should get you out before that happens."

"I can't." she repeated but Birkhoff didn't relent.

"I know they've got you on a lot of drugs so you could heal, but they're tapering you off them so you are lucid enough to talk to Amanda today. I think I can get you out if we run now."

She shook her head slightly but Birkhoff didn't notice, he struggled with the handcuff. "Stay awake." He instructed as he focused on the little key hole on the cuff. Claire tried to keep her eyes open but it was difficult. She let them close again as he worked.

The screwdriver slipped and Birkhoff fell forward a few inches before catching himself on the bed, but he brushed against Claire in the process. She yelped sharply in pain.

He pulled back away from the handcuff. He couldn't believe after all this time inside Division he couldn't even pick a simple lock on a handcuff. He pushed back the sheet gently then waited for her to stop him, she stayed quiet. "Claire, can I look" He asked, she nodded slightly and he pushed the cotton tank top up slightly so he could see her stomach. Dark purple bruises bloched across her entire abdomen, higher up he saw a wound dressing that was covering where the doctors entered to work on her ribs.

"It's bad…" she whispered.

"No," He lied as he looked back up at her battered face. "No…It hurts cause you haven't tried to move in days. That's all."

"You're a bad liar."

"Here, lets just try to sit up ok? Then I'll finish with that handcuff." He slid a hand behind her and tried to get her to sit up. She shook her head back and forth but he ignored her and tried to sit her up himself. She cried out and he was forced to let her lie back down. "Ok, I'm sorry." He said after a moment of letting her recover from his attempt to move her.

He let her catch her breath, but he didn't allow her to go back to sleep. "Ok listen." He began and her eyes fluttered open slightly. "Amanda is serious shit. Alright, don't mess with her like you played Michael."

Claire nodded slightly showing she was listening so he kept talking. "You have to give her what she wants, answer her questions and answer them as truthfully as you can. She's like a human lie detector and if she suspects you're lying she'll get the FMRI in here to test you." He pushed her hair away from her face and she focused her eyes on him again. "You have to give her enough information to keep her content, but hold back just enough that she has to keep you around." Birkhoff whispered. "As soon as you're well enough to move, we're out of here."

"Both of us?" Claire questioned quietly.

"Yea," he said. "You're my world now Claire, where you go, I go."

"I love you." She said and Birkhoff bent down and kissed her softly and she closed her eyes again.

"I love you too."

All day Birkhoff sat waiting nervously in his lab, he drank one can of redbull before he decided he didn't need it today. His hands were already shaking violently. He didn't know why he was letting this go on, everything inside of him told him he needed to get her out before Amanda interrogated her. But there was no way to get her out when Division was fully awake, their only chance had been early in the morning before everyone arrived. He'd missed his window. Now all he could do was hope he would find another before it was too late.

Next to his chair was his messenger bag. He could be gone in a moment. His laptop and tablet were already secured along with a frequency jammer for his tracking device, two hand guns he'd checked out from ammunitions with absolutely no intention of returning, extra ammo and a new phone that wasn't assigned by Division. He still had a little room left. He glanced around the room, no there was nothing else he needed or wanted to take. Some of his computer equipment would be useful but it was all technology he could get on the outside.

The monitor infront of him showed the live feed to Claire's room. She was stirring slightly andhe could tell the drugs had worn off. She was still trying not to move, he guessed the pain hadn't subsided much.

He split the screen on his monitor between Claire's room and new window. In the new window he opened the page that controlled the individual user security settings. After about ten minutes of constant typing he'd invisibly hacked Michael's account. He wasn't online, he left for the night a few minutes ago. He opened the folder of his operation reports and found the submitted report for the last mission, Birkhoff's actions after the mission were not recorded. He backed out of that folder and opened another folder that contained interrogation reports. He looked through the submitted reports but there still wasn't a report on Claire. He opened the draft section of the folder and found the early draft of the report on Claire. It was incomplete. Michael hadn't written anything on what he'd told him, in fact there was hardly anything written at all. He was slightly relieved, so far, Michael was choosing to stick to their bargain. He minimized the screen and began to type in the codes to access his private network outside of Division. He opened the program he'd designed to find Tariq, in three days his program had located six shell companies, two known money laundering contacts, four dead end untraceable bank accounts and one blaring connection to gogle. It was a start.

He started to edit the encryption code of the program when suddenly the window in the upper left hand corner went black.

"what the.." he said to himself as he watched the camera in Claire's room flash back on. "huh..." he thought that shouldn't happen.He decided, the camera in that room was replaced five months ago with all the other cameras on that floor. He should know, he ordered all the new cameras.

"amateur." he said as he opened the feed to the other hidden camera he'd left in the room, the camera that only fed to his computers. "I own you bi-yoch!" he taunted as he typed in his own access code.

A new window opened on his desktop and there was different version of Claire's room. On the old camera Claire was laying quietly in her bed alone.

In the new, accurate window Claire was still laying in the bed but Amanda stood a few feet away.

He dove for his earbuds that we're tangled in the mess of gadgets on his desk. He turned up the volume until he could hear the click of Amanda's heels on the concrete floor.

Both women were watching each other in a standoff, both were trying to size the other up without speaking. Finally Amanda spoke.

"we haven't been formally introduced." Amanda said in her typical slightly apathetic, but deceptively kind voice.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"not yet, but I suspect that will change."

"So tell me Claire..." she trailed off as she watched the girls reaction. "Yes, I know exactly who you are." She smiled slightly as she watched Claire's confused and nervous face. "what have you told Michael? And, please, I would appreciate it if you were truthful with me as I intend to be honest with you." Claire remained silent in the bed, she wasn't even looking at Amanda any more. After a long pause Amanda spoke again. "I wonder." She mused. "It must have been traumatic, watching your parents die in front of you... and at such a young age." She walked slightly away from Claire, "That must take quite a toll on a person."

"But you're a smart girl and I thought you rebounded quite nicely. Top of your class in explosives, arabic, russian, and tech, with the Alliance, the only area of concern of course was hand to hand combat. And even that was a relative low, still above average when compared with your peers. But who can blame you, you really are quite...tiny. Even so, you were poised to become a premier agent." She stopped walking and turned back to Claire. "That is, until you began to decided to pursue Division. Very, poor career choice."

"who are you?" Claire asked

She smiled slightly as she tapped her heels closer to Claire, she leaned down and whispered in a voice so quiet that Birkhoff's cameras could barely pick up the audio. "I am the person that will torture and kill your brother, if you attempt to deceive me."

After a few seconds Amanda spoke again. "You should know I am prepared to go to any extent necessary to procure the information I desire." She said. "How far I go is really up to you. Cooperate, and this will all be quite painless. Or, if you prefer, hold out, it really makes little difference to me. I'm eager to tryout some new techniques, and I could do these on either you or… if you don't talk—"

"No." Claire cut her off. "You can't hurt him. I've seen the way you all rely on him, you need him." She said.

"No, I really don't. He is weak, naive, and compromised. He has outlived his usefulness to me and while, its true, I would prefer not to train someone to take his role make no mistake Claire, he is entirely dispensable."

"How did you know all this?" Claire asked

Amanda half smiled again but she didn't answer the question.

"you're going to kill me." Claire said. "I won't tell you anything so just go ahead and do it." Claire taunted. Back in his office Birkhoff swore under his breath,

"don't tempt her!" he whispered angrily.

"correct. You are a threat to Division and to its agents and I can't allow such a threat to exist." she said shortly. "I thought we had already established that the bargain we are striking here is not for your own life, but your brother's." There was another long silence in the room but this time Claire broke it.

"Fine." Claire whispered "Just don't hurt him."

Amanda waited a second longer for Claire to answer her original question, and when she didn't she pulled out her phone. She stared directly at Claire as she dialed the phone and put it up to her ear, "Michael," she said kindly. Even from across the room Claire could hear his unmistakable smokey voice on the other end of the phone. "You're needed back at operations, I'm going to try an angle with questioning Lena Ross, I'll need your help." She pressed a button on the phone to end the call, "Do you think I'm bluffing, little girl?"

"Nothing!" She yelled. "I didn't tell him anything. He doesn't have a clue who I am!"

Amanda smiled softly, "well that was the first intelligent thing you've done." She said without emotion "Now you're going to tell me where the black boxes are." She said

"Go to hell." Claire snapped.

"If that's how you feel." Amanda said. She pulled out her phone again and began to type a few numbers into it, a few seconds later there was a pounding on the door. Amanda stepped aside as the three men rolled in a chair with restraints. A second later two of the men had roughly removed her restraints and hand cuffs and were dragging her toward the chair.

When they dropped her in the chair she cried out in pain, but it didn't stop them, they pulled both wrists and ankles into restraints and fastened a leather strap around her chest. When they were finished they filed out of the room.

"This, is what is affectionately known as 'truth serum'" she said.

"Stop!" Claire screamed. "Our bargain? I answered your question, I'll tell you more! Don't hurt him!"

"Change of plans." Amanda answered. "I won't tolerate half truths."

"NO!" Claire yelled. "Get out! Get out! Leave me! You'll never get another chance!" She screamed as loud as her voice would go. Amanda turned back to her with just a hint of confusion crossing her eyes but she didn't address it.

"Sodium pentothyal, is of course the main active ingredient but we had a fabulous chemist here a few years back who altered the drug for us." She walked to the other side of the chair where she began to hook up a bag of clear liquid to Claire's IV. Claire didn't look at the woman, she stared directly at the wall on the other side of the room. "See, while sodium pentothyal is quite useful on my own agents, those agents who have undergone more extensive training have developed some sort of tolerance for the drug. So, while I use the traditional form with Divisions own recruits its had proven to be unreliable in other interrogations. I suspect, Claire, that you have been exposed to Sodium Pentothyal dozens of times during your training and you too have developed a tolerance." Claire heard a series of beeps as Amanda activated the IV. "What you will be getting is a hybrid. A cocktail containing sodium pentothyal, sodium amytal, various other barbiturates, and just a touch of amphetamine."

Amanda stepped away to the other end of the room and allowed her drug to take effect. Birkhoff and Amanda watched Claire as she squeezed her eyes shut, gripped the chair with her only good hand, and squirmed in the chair.

Birkhoff gripped his own chair, and tried to keep himself upright. He couldn't watch, but he couldn't turn away.

Then he heard her scream.

Ok, So does the last scene work written sort of from Birkhoff's perspective. I tried writing it from Amanda's perspective and abandonded it about 1/10 of the way through... way to difficult. Then I started writing from Claires and it got long and kinda reflective (and thats not what I wanted in the first Amanda scene), so I liked Birkhoff's perspective the best but I'm still not sold on it. Is it too confusing?

Thanks for reading! Please Review (I love reviews they make me sooo happy!)