WOW! I've been blown away by the response to the first chapter. I'm excited about this fic and can't wait for you to read more. Here's the next chapter. Please know that I don't want to keep you guys waiting, but I've got quite a few things on my plate over the next week. In addition to winding down on my maternity leave, starting a new job in two weeks, my husband, kids, and I are moving about 100 miles away next week. So I am writing this amongst the boxes. I can't promise frequent updates, but I hope to get a schedule going once things get settled a bit.
The Rabbit Hole was crowded, but that was to be expected on a Friday evening where most establishments closed at 7 and everything was family oriented. Taking a deep breath, Emma reached for Killian's hand and threaded her fingers between his, smiling slightly at the intimacy of holding his hand in public. She was not much for that kind of thing, even the one time she had been in a relationship. Maybe it is too much, she thought as she wove through the crowd toward the two pool tables in the back. Ruby might call her out on the out of character behavior, knowing that she was not the type.
"Emma!" the dark haired woman said, sounding fake in her surprise. "I didn't realize you'd be here."
The blonde smiled sweetly, nodding at the two admirers flanking Ruby. "Well there aren't too many places to grab a drink," she said, feeling the odd squeeze from Killian that felt slightly comforting as they stood so clearly on display. "It was here or Granny's."
She nodded slowly, pretending that she hadn't had the same conversation with herself when she decided to come out and find out about this mystery guy. Whatever shame she felt over ruining her friend's date passed quickly as she flashed a smile at the quiet Killian. Pitching forward, she smiled at him in her appraisal that let her eyes linger along his body. "Ruby Lucas," she said brightly. "And you are…"
"Killian Jones," he said, sticking his free hand out to her. "A friend of Emma's I presume?"
Ruby's eyes flashed over to Emma with obvious approval for a guy with an accent. It was not something easily found in Storybrooke unless you counted Robin, Will, or Marco. "One of her besties," Ruby declared, wrinkling her nose as if the two of them had slumber parties or shared matching tattoos. "I didn't mean to intrude on your date?" The word hung there, a challenge of sorts.
"No bother, lass," Killian said smiling back just as brightly. "Emma and I are getting to know each other. What better way than meeting her 'bestie?'"
Emma laughed at his poor imitation of an American accent. "We'll let you get back to your game," Emma said, trying not to gasp as Killian stepped closer to let one of the waitresses pass, his body flush against hers and their entwined hands now on her hip. He didn't move back into his former spot. "Just wanted to say hi."
"Why don't you stay?" she said, her voice bordering on sickeningly sweet. "I'd love to get to know Killian a little. We're about to rack 'em up. Join us?" She flashed her flirtiest smile at Killian and motioned to one of the guys – Victor something or other. "We can play against each other."
"We kind of…" Emma began, her palms sweating with the idea that she was going to have to actually play this off. She wanted to just parade the cute guy in front of Ruby, leave with him, say goodbye in the parking lot and that would be that. Ruby would let her dirty mind fill in the blanks.
"We'd love to, but I must insist on having Emma on my team," he said, matching Ruby's smile with one of her own. "It wouldn't seem quite right for me to compete against her since we are on a date." He winked at Emma conspiratorially, as though they had known each other long enough to have flirty secrets and inside jokes.
"Sure," Ruby said, lighting up that her invitation was being accepted. "I'll play with…" She paused and looked at the man on her left. Emma was reminded that she had threatened to get the girl name tags for all her men. "Victor. We'll be a team."
Emma felt ill as Ruby and Killian began to banter back and forth about American versus British rules for pool. He seemed to be turning on the charm, not exactly flirting, but more like trying to impress her. No, it definitely wasn't flirting. Flirting was more like what Killian was doing with Emma. There were saucy looks, smiles that lit up the room, and his lilting voice calling her love or once he found out her last name, Swan. She couldn't really put the brakes on the situation without Ruby realizing that this was a complete stranger and hardly an acceptable dating partner.
"You're quite talented," he said to Emma as Ruby appraised her next shot, eyeing each angle carefully. Emma jumped at the sound of his voice or maybe it was the close proximity to her ear with his breath warm and his accent melodic. "Did you learn to play from some criminal you took down?"
Emma rolled her eyes at his obvious attempt to learn more about her. Ruby had already dominated much of the conversation, even telling him more than a few tidbits about Emma. She had been questioning where on earth they had met since she knew Emma never went out anywhere without her friends. "Work," Emma had responded, the lie coming easily. "I was answering a call about a disturbance down at the docks and Killian was there to sell a boat."
Ruby pursed her painted lips together at that answer, trying to find the fault in it. "Was he the one making the disturbance?" she asked, probably picturing Emma meeting him while putting him in handcuffs.
"I'm a law abiding citizen of this town," Killian said, nudging Emma to remind her of her own turn to shoot. "Emma was just so enticing that I had to know more about her. Simply brilliant lass, and such a great conversationalist. I couldn't resist the urge to contact her at the first opportunity to see if she might have a drink with me."
"And when was this?" Ruby asked, ignoring the fact that Emma had never been described in such a way. Beautiful, yes. Guarded, most definitely. But brilliant and a conversationalist? Never.
"A few days ago," Emma answered, smiling as she sunk the ball into the pocket she had called out. "He was persistent." She tried to throw him her own flirtatious look, but she worried it came off as more sour than sweet.
"Aye, that I was," Killian answered, giving her a congratulatory side hug. "I just knew I had to see her again. I couldn't keep her off my mind."
Victor cleared his throat, obviously not pleased that Ruby was paying more attention to her friend and Killian than him. "I should be getting back to the hospital. Friday nights are busy." His arm wound around Ruby's waist as he pulled her back into his orbit and focus. "Maybe we can continue this another time?"
The dark haired woman looked a bit confused, her eyes scanning his face as though she was just remembering that he was even there. "Hospital?" she half asked, turning her gaze back to Emma who offered no help for the riddle. "Oh you're a doctor, right. Well, have a good shift or whatever. Talk to you soon." She pulled back, gave him a little wave, and rounded the table toward Killian and Emma. "Looks like I'm partnerless."
"Good timing," Emma muttered, pointing to the chalkboard where Ruby's team score was nothing to brag about. "Good thing you didn't play for cash." Seeing her escape within range, she felt herself relax a bit.
"Yes, well, I don't want to be a third wheel," Ruby said, moving the pool cue from hand to hand. "Where are you guys headed?"
Emma wanted to scream out to her friend to shut up, as this fake date had lasted long enough already. She knew more about Killian Jones than her one night stands put together. He was in sales, held a degree in environmental studies with an ocean specialization. He loved Mexican and Italian foods. And his free time was spent on his boat or watching soccer. She even knew that he had a Labrador named Smee because he had fallen in love with the stories of Peter Pan, Captain Hook and Neverland. She felt like she was only lacking his blood type, but he'd probably have given that to her too if she asked.
"I hadn't asked yet, as I didn't want to push my luck." His smile matched his words, seeming less confident as he shifted his weight a bit. "I was hoping you would maybe join me for dinner. I know that it is customary to say drinks first and see how it goes, but I'm hopeful you've been having a good time, love?" He took a step in her direction, trying to catch her eye as she shifted her gaze between him and Ruby.
"I'd say she is," Ruby enthused, leaning against the table in her black skirt and sheer black top over a red tank that she had cut to hit above her waist. "Emma rarely spends this much time with a guy she just met. It's pretty impressive that you have her this interested."
All the air in Emma's body exited through her nose, pushing out in a rush. "I was planning on calling it an early night," she said to no one in particular. "Maybe…"
"I was thinking something light," he continued as if he wasn't hearing her protests and excuses. "We could get take out if you would prefer. Perhaps eat down at the docks."
She blinked back at him, realizing he was trying to make it sound like something he had planned. He was taking her back to the place where they had met. Was it romantic since the story was that she met him while trying to arrest someone else? She could hear the gasp from Ruby, who was clearly impressed by the guy's thoughtfulness and sweetness.
"Maybe some other…"
"I'll call Granny," Ruby interrupted, playfully tapping Emma on the shoulder. "She'll make up a picnic basket for you. You know she'll love to do it." Ruby wasn't lying. The old woman was as gruff and cantankerous as they came, but she loved being part of a romantic story. That it was a friend of Ruby's made it all the better. Ruby hid herself in the alcove by the restrooms to call her grandmother, grinning at Emma the entire time.
"I'm sorry," Emma blurted out once they were out of Ruby's earshot. "I just wanted you to say hi and pretend like we hadn't just met." Her face became pink as she watched her friend animatedly talking. "If you want, I'll buy the dinner and you can take it home. You know? Leftovers can be good."
He glanced toward Emma's friend and then back at Emma, his eyes skimming over her flushed cheeks and the nervous way she was fisting her hands inside the sleeves of the asymmetrical sweater she was wearing. "Are you turning me down for dinner, love? I thought I earned at least that with our little ruse."
She whipped her head around to look at him, her eyes narrowing with judgment. "Are you serious?" she asked. "I'm just a girl you suggested a drink to in a bar. You want to have dinner?"
"Sure," he said nonchalantly, as if it did not really matter to him. "I talked to you because I wanted to get to know you. And so far I haven't been disappointed. So I'm willing to take the risk. Dinner?" He held out his hand toward her, reaching for one of her closed fists. She looked at him as if he might have a weapon concealed in it.
"Why don't I just give you my number? We can see how it goes?"
He chuckled. "Because, love, I have no doubt that you'll ignore my texts and calls and hope that I'll give up. This way at least we can actually call it a date. You won't have lied to your friends?" His dimples flashed in a hopeful smile as she worried over her bottom lip. "I'm not good at rejection so be gentle, please?"
"A picnic dinner at the docks?" she said more to herself, shaking her head at the absurdity. "I guess. Just this once though. I'm not doing this again." She glanced down at his hand now grazing hers. "At least not without a proper invitation."
"Of course, milady," he teased back. "We can hammer out the specifics of this relationship over the meal." She looked panicked at that word, which he could not help noticing. "It's fine, Emma. It's just dinner."
***AAA***
Emma threw her earrings into the silver dish on her bedside table and slid out of her shoes as she sank onto the bed. Killian had been right. It was just a dinner. A simple, but over abundant dinner meal, with a guy she barely knew had not really been part of her plans. Stranger was a perfect word to describe Killian Jones, she decided. He was nice enough and certainly nice to look at, but that was just the surface. The man oozed with sexuality and a quirkiness that she couldn't quite fathom.
Their walk from Granny's to the docks had been laced with talk of movies and musical genres. He had been friendly and a little flirty, but there were no blatant attempts at anything more than just a shared meal. He kept the conversations light and backed off at any sign that she might have an issue with what they were discussing.
Even when the last bite of dessert was eaten and the meal was obviously over, he had not even attempted to invite himself back to her apartment when they walked back to their parked cars. Instead he had gently lifted her phone out of her hand and typed in his number. "Just in case you need another excuse to avoid a blind date," he had told her. She could have deleted it, ignored his invitation and moved on with her life. He probably expected that out of her. But for some reason she hadn't yet. There on her phone was his number in her contacts.
Still fully clothed and lying on her bed, Emma stared at the ceiling. Her mind was racing with replays of the evening. She'd thought she was just going to get a drink, a simple diversion from her usual day and a way to perpetuate the lie she had told her friends. He'd been someone to talk to, someone to make her ignore the way that the drinks sat in her stomach and did not fill the ache.
Her phone buzzed and startled her.
Ruby: Hope I'm not interrupting. Or maybe I hope I am. Good job. He's a hottie.
Emma stared at the words from her friend, a bit proud that she had so easily manipulated the woman into thinking she had been on a date. Like Emma, Ruby was certain she could detect a manipulation a mile away. However, she had seemed none the wiser about the status of Emma's dating life. That had been a little too easy. So while she still felt proud, she also had a little guilt over the lies.
Emma held her phone up and stared at the words from her friend, groaning as she realized she had not answered. That was probably just adding to Ruby's imagination and assumptions about what exactly was occurring. She certainly did not want to think about this guy in her bed. So with her thumbs flying across the screen, Emma typed out a response to her friend.
Emma: Glad you approve.
Hitting the send button sent her back to her list of contacts and there front and center was Killian's name. It was a short list. Just a few friends and one or two take out places that she wanted to keep at the ready were on the list. Tapping his name, she stared at his phone number for a moment, tracing the digits with her mind. It was too late for a phone call. He had probably already gone to bed, as few suffered from insomnia like she did. Or maybe he had gone back to the Rabbit Hole to try to find someone who would have gone back to his place with him. That was why he was there, wasn't it? Why else did men go to bars? He had probably determined that she was too neurotic or demented for him. He wanted someone simple.
So why couldn't she just delete his number and ignore him? Sighing, she stared harder at the number as if it might offer the answer with numerology. Maybe there was some mystic answer to her question. There wasn't.
Emma: Thanks again for being my "date."
She tapped the send button before she could really consider the consequences of it. So what if it wasn't the best line ever? It was simple and to the point. She didn't expect an answer back. That wasn't the point, she told herself. She was just being polite. He had foregone his plans for the evening just to play a part in her scheme. He deserved thanks. Thinking of all the reasons he would not respond, Emma felt a small jolt as her phone lit up again with his response.
Killian: Anytime. Perhaps you would be agreeable to another?
He could not see her smile as she rolled her eyes at his too quick response that she was not trying to read anything into. Instead she typed a vague we'll see.
Killian: We could try to fool more of your friends. Or some of mine? We could pull the wool over the entire town's eyes if you like.
Emma: Ruby's a gossip. I'm sure everyone will have heard about our "date" by morning.
Killian: Then now I feel guilty. You should let me take you out to assuage that awkward feeling. That way it isn't a total lie.
Emma: I'd say our dinner together was as close to dating as I do these days.
She blinked at her words, realizing again that he seemed to pull out honesty in her that was otherwise uncomfortable. She was not sure how she felt about that, given that she liked the masks she wore and the way that people never truly knew the real her.
Killian: It was quite lovely. Or perhaps it was the company that was lovely?
Emma: Calling yourself lovely?
Killian: I was speaking of you, love. But I was a little hopeful you might have liked my company as well.
***AAA***
Emma threw the envelope on the desk of one of the other deputies and sneered. "Are you serious?" she asked. "You put in for a transfer?"
Graham, who had been with the department longer than the rest of the deputies, scratched his fingers at his beard and sighed. "I just don't feel like I'm doing anything here," he admitted. "It's the same old thing all the time. David, you, and the guys are nice enough, but does it really take four of us to track down Pongo when Archie loses him? That has been our most exciting case in months. I didn't go through the academy and all this training to be a night watchman for the pawn shop. I wanted to…"
"Help people," Emma finished, flopping into the seat across from him. Graham was probably one of the quieter men in the department. Robin was loud and playful, bordering on obnoxious. David was fatherly and concerned about everyone and everything. John was always laughing, never taking anything seriously. Graham did his job and moved on to the next task. It wasn't that big of a leap for him.
"Well, yeah," he answered. Graham's accent was a soothing and melodic treat. Where Robin's was more of a charming thing. He could get any woman to see his way of thinking by just a tinge of a word, Graham seemed not to notice the effect he had on people. "I'm not doing that here."
The creases in Emma's forehead deepened as she stared at the way Graham held the envelope in his hand and flipped it from side to side. "Well," she said, "open the damn thing. See what you got."
He grinned a bit as he tugged at the sealed edges, no doubt imagining better assignments and locations. Unfolding the sheets of paper. "Transfer pending an opening in another department," he said flatly, throwing down the page. "Guess that settles it."
Emma looked sympathetic as she lifted put the page and read it herself. "Something will open up. Something always does."
***AAA***
When the girls met for lunch that Saturday, Emma was happy to see a much calmer Mary Margaret than she had on Thursday night. The friendly and optimistic teacher was back with her approachable demeanor and bright outlook. She was recounting her favorite recipe to Emma, explaining than even an idiot could make these muffins that only required three ingredients. Emma was doubtful but pretended to take note of the instructions.
"We're all young and vibrant women in our 20s," Ruby complained as she sat down at one of the patio tables at Granny's with her sunglasses covering her face as though someone wouldn't actually recognize her. "Why are we eating here and talking about recipes. We're not 80."
Emma laughed, as this lunch was a standing appointment between the women since high school. They always recapped the week and made plans for the next. When Emma took a job at the sheriff's station, the two had promised to schedule the lunches around her work. So far they always had.
"My week hasn't been that exciting," Mary Margaret confessed. "Other than the Katherine and David thing, I'm kind of in a rut." She toyed with her napkin and ignored the feigned shock from Ruby.
"You should get advice from Emma," Ruby said, unfolding her own napkin in her lap as though they were eating somewhere much more upscale than the diner. "I'm actually impressed. If it wasn't for the fact that she carries a gun, cusses like a sailor, and can body slam any of us, I'd think she was considering becoming a nun. But last night our little nun had a date with the hottest guy I've seen in Storybrooke in a while."
"I'd look horrible in the habit," Emma said, taking a sip of her soda. "You also forget that I drink like a fish."
Mary Margaret scooted her chair a little closer to Emma, whether because of the sun in her eyes or to make sure she missed none of the details. "You met him?" she asked Ruby, as though she had not been privy to the other woman's plans to spy.
"Met and had the pleasure of talking to before they snuck off for a quiet dinner by themselves. I'm talking hot, Mary Margaret. The kind of man who would make your hair curl." Ruby smiled proudly as Emma looked distressed.
"He's pretty cute," Emma said, wrinkling her nose as both women stared at her for some sort of comment. "Really cute." She felt like a fool as both of her friends smiled like loons and looked at each other knowingly. "Would you two quit it?"
Mary Margaret slumped back against the iron chair, folding her arms over her chest. "Will you tell me about him, Ruby? I need details that are more interesting than Emma can provide. But leave out the sex stuff, okay?"
"I didn't have sex with him," Ruby said just as primly. "But did Emma?"
Emma fixated on the menu though she almost always ordered the same thing. She was nothing if not predictable and dependable. "We had dinner. We walked back to our cars. It was the end of the date. Nobody went to bed with anyone."
Ruby proceeded to fill Mary Margaret in on some of the details like what he was wearing and that he took her for a late night dinner in the spot where they met. That was the sort of stuff the teacher ate up with a spoon. Ruby even brandished her phone where she had taken a few photos of him covertly. Mary Margaret gushed over the photos, proclaiming him a dream come true for their friend.
"I just wonder," Mary Margaret said stealing a look at the door to see if their food was coming. "He seems perfect. I haven't met him, but from what Ruby says and the fact that you yourself have smiled while talking about him, he's sound perfect." She giggled. "But I'm waiting on the but here. What's wrong with him? You always find something wrong with people."
"I do not," Emma said defensively, hoping that the arrival of their food would distract her friends. "I just have high standards."
"Ruby, what's wrong with him?" Mary Margaret said. "He's dumb right? A complete idiot?"
"No, he's actually very smart," Emma said softly, unbelieving that she was participating in this witch hunt for flaws.
"Body odor?" the teacher suggested. "Smells like peppers and garlic?"
"I can answer that," Ruby said with a wry smile. "He smelled like sandalwood and leather. Heavenly." She tapped the side of the glass as she thought. "I've got it. He's married, right? Wife, kids, dog, and he just wants you on the side?"
"He's single," Emma said automatically. "There's nothing wrong with him. He's just not my type."
Mary Margaret's jaw dropped to protest, but Ruby spoke first. "Oh totally not your type," she said, waving away the idea as crazy. "I can't believe I would think such a thing. He's way too perfect for you."
***AAA***
When Emma returned from lunch David was in his office, his relaxed stance indicating that he was not in the middle of a case. Emma hung her leather jacket on the coat rack and paused just outside the glass door to his space. She knocked tentatively. "Can we talk?" she asked when he spun in his chair to face her.
"Sure," he said, motioning toward the empty chair on the side of his desk. "Take a seat."
Emma sat toward the edge of the chair, placing her hands on her knees and leaning forward. "I wanted to know if you're going to go to Regina about the budget request," she said. Regina Mills was the town's mayor. While the city council actually voted on the budget, Regina was known to rule that council with an iron fist.
"You're wanting that new equipment," he said with a sigh. "I can request it, but you know the council doesn't think it's needed. We have been getting by all this time going into Portland for those things."
"And it takes a full 48 hours minimum for results. If we had our own, we could speed that along." She was not one to beg and plead. Her tactics were usually based on logic and reason.
"We haven't had a need for it in over a year," David protested lightly. "I don't think that argument of yours is going to fly. We're a nice quiet town. Let's not pretend we're one of the big boys."
Emma's boot covered foot tapped an erratic pattern on the floor. "It might help keep some of our better officers here," she said pointedly. "We could quit playing cops and actually be a real law enforcement department instead of being like Mayberry."
He chuckled. "So this is about Graham," he said knowingly. "I figured that would piss you off."
She sighed as he explained that he just couldn't give deputies the cases or pay of the bigger towns. It was a matter of money and resources, he told her. There was a limit and they had hit it.
"Is that what you told Mary Margaret?" she asked. "Is that why you won't stand up to your father?"
He looked wary, his hands raking over his face and the heels of his palms digging into his eyes. "My father has always liked Katherine. He invited her without consulting me. It would be awkward for Mary Margaret. I thought it best if I just played along and made it up to her with a weekend trip of our own."
Emma rolled her eyes and let out the breath she was holding. "You are a coward when it comes to your father. Your mother would have said something to him."
She knew she was hitting him where it hurt. His mother had died a year earlier, an unexpected complication from surgery stealing her from her family. David rarely spoke of it or her. She could tell by his expression that he wasn't happy with her for bringing it up now.
"I'll make it up to her," he repeated. "What about you? Dad said you didn't call his secretary back about joining us."
She fidgeted in her chair a bit. "I wasn't invited. A call from your father's secretary isn't an invitation." She paused. "I wouldn't want to go."
There was some levity in David's eyes as she said that. "Really?" he asked. "Got a hot date?"
She pushed herself off the chair and marched out of his office, muttering slanderous things about Ruby as she left.
***AAA***
Mary Margaret called Emma as the blonde drove the few blocks from the station home, asking if David had already left for the evening and if Emma had any plans. "I made too much food," she said, as was code for she didn't want her friend eating peanut butter out of a jar with a spoon. "You're welcome to join us."
Emma fidgeted, looking both ways before turning her Volkswagen Bug onto another street. "I sort of have plans already," she said sheepishly, "but thanks for the invite."
"Leftovers it is then," the teacher said cheerily. "Wait? You have plans? Or you have PLANS?"
Emma sighed, having not told her friends that she had agreed to see Killian again that night. He'd been sweetly insistent and texted her several times to ask if she would join him. Her no's turned into I don't know's and then to maybe's and finally to and okay. It was as close as Emma came to gushing. "Killian asked me to dinner."
"Killian!" Mary Margaret said enthusiastically. She had no such rules about not gushing. "Oh my God." Are you serious? Dinner with him twice in one weekend? And it's Saturday! That's big, Emma. Really, really, big."
"It's dinner," Emma said with a small but nervous laugh. "It's just a chance for me to find out what's wrong with him."
"You do know that you're bound to find something wrong with him if you keep searching?" the teacher warned, the sounds of pans clanging in the background. "Emma, please, honey, don't screw this up. He's a nice guy. He's not Neal."
"I don't compare every guy to Neal," Emma reminded her. "I'm not like that. I can tell the difference." She pulled into her parking spot outside her building. There sat Killian in his jeep, looking up at her apartment building with apprehension evident on his face. "I have to go. Bye."
She climbed out of the ancient but reliable car and tapped on his window. "You're early," she said accusingly. "I just got off work."
"Sorry," he said, his hand automatically reaching to that spot behind his ear that she was starting to notice as a nervous tic. "I was just so shocked you said yes. Then I wanted to make sure I was ready and well…I'm 30 minutes early. I guess you must think poorly of me now."
She laughed, which seemed to brighten his mood. "I'm actually impressed that you are willing to admit to being a dork," she said. "Not many guys would confess to that."
"I'm not confessing to that title," he said, relaxing a little at her obvious teasing. "I merely confessed to being overly punctual." He grinned. "And prepared." There on the seat next to him was an array of flowers. She wasn't even sure if any guy had ever given her flowers before except that old man who came in the station sometimes and gave her one for being a pretty little thing.
"Wow," she said, shaking her head. "You really are a dork. A nice one, but a dork. Come on. You can wait upstairs while I get ready. I'm not going to dinner in this." She waved her hands over the jeans and button down she wore as part of her uniform – she had refused the wear the polyester monstrosity that David had handed her on the first day.
"You're inviting me into your private lair?" he asked, sliding out from behind the steering wheel with his hand clutching the flowers. "I'm not sure that I'm ready for that, love."
"You," she said, pointing at him with flair, "are going to sit on the couch and maybe have a soda while I change. There is no funny business going on." She gives him one more look before marching straight into the building and up the stairs, trusting that he is following her.
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