Disclaimer: I own a truly ridiculous amount of student debt, but not Once Upon a Time or any of its characters. All errors are mine and mine alone.
A/N: A few people have asked about the scenes that Archie was not privy to in the previous chapter, (Regina with Mary Margaret and Gold) and while I have written those scenes, I doubt I will include them in any future chapters. Perhaps in flashbacks or as a bonus material chapter after all is said and done. Why write them and not include them, you ask? Well, with so many characters in this universe, it can be tough to remember what each character knows are any given point in the story. It's nice to have the scenes available to go back and reread. And for the super sleuths out there, I do drop hints as to what was discussed.
I'm really trying to follow the George R.R. Martin approach to storytelling. And by that, I mean the snails pace at which he writes... I kid. I kid. My goal is for everything you read to be completely influenced by the specific chapter's narrator and their unique opinions and biases. It makes things much harder on the reader because each character will only ever give you pieces of the bigger story and their conclusions may not be accurate. So basically, you are all on your own in figuring out what's going on... and Jon Snow's parentage.
There's a patch of old snow in the corner,
That I should have guessed
Was a blow-away paper the rain
Has brought to rest.
It is speckled with grime as if
Small print overspread it,
The news of the day I've forgotten-
If I ever read it.
Robert Frost
Mary Margaret
Monday October 24thth 3:42pm
Mary Margaret caught up with Henry's birth mother just as she was entering the stairwell a few doors down the hall from the Mayor's office. "I'm sorry about Regina," she said. "I wish I could tell you that she didn't mean to be rude, but..." The brunette sighed as she fell into step with the blonde. "Well, it's sort of her way." She extended a hand. "I'm Mary Margaret by the way. We were never formally introduced."
"Emma Swan," the other woman responded, returning the handshake. "Nice to meet you."
They descended the stairs quickly, stepping into the main hall that led past the newly renovated council chambers. Mary Margaret liked the refurbishments Regina had made to the old administrative building, though a part of her did miss the antique furniture and well-weathered oak floors that she'd spent so much time racing up and down as a child. She recalled many lazy summer afternoons spent playing hide-and-seek with her father's secretary, Johanna, while he was busy with his meetings.
"You're Henry's teacher, right?" the blonde asked, pulling the brunette from her recollections.
"I am," Mary Margaret confirmed. "He's in forth grade. He's one of the brightest students in my class."
"That's great." Emma smiled sadly at the compliment. They reached the first floor quickly and made their way out of City Hall. Once in the large building's expansive courtyard, the blonde slowed her pace. "How was he today? In class I mean. Was he alright?"
Mary Margaret considered the other woman. From what she'd pieced together from her conversation with Regina, Emma had only just met the boy yesterday. He'd arrived on her doorstep, completely out of the blue, and yet, the blonde had driven him all the way back from Boston. Then she'd stayed in town all day just to sit through a five minute meeting with his mother and therapist. "You care about him," she concluded.
"I just want to make sure the kid's okay," Emma looked embarrassed to admit.
Mary Margaret pondered Henry's behavior at school that day. He had seemed different; socializing with the other students during recess and participating more than normal during lessons. And, where most days he spent all his time with his nose buried in his storybook, today, 'Once Upon A Time' hadn't made a single appearance. If she was being completely honest, earlier in the day she'd been quite relieved. It had seemed like, finally, after two months, the boy had turned a corner. When she'd questioned him regarding how he was doing - prior to learning about his weekend adventure - he'd told her that his plan had worked; that his mom was going to fix everything.
Now, face to face with the boy's birth mother, Mary Margaret was starting to understand exactly what he'd meant by that. He'd brought this woman, his birth mother, to Storybrooke, given her his book, and tasked her with breaking a curse that didn't exist. It said a lot about Emma Swan, that she hadn't fled town already.
A jolt went through Mary Margaret. Quite suddenly, she realized exactly who Henry thought this woman was. The book's prophesied 'Savior.' Her...
No.
Snow's daughter.
She shook off that thought and looked at the blonde. Why was she lingering in town? Had she subconsciously taken up Henry's challenge? Not to break his curse, obviously, but perhaps to be a presence in his life... Did she want to build a relationship with the boy?
No wonder Regina's so angry.
"Are you okay?" Emma asked, clearly having noticed Mary Margaret staring at her for so long.
"Why don't I buy you a cup of coffee?" the brunette offered, in way of answering her question.
The other woman made a face. "One more cup and I'll launch into orbit."
"Maybe some cocoa then," Mary Margaret amended. "Granny's made a great cup."
"So I've heard," Emma sighed. She looked up at the overcast sky. "Yeah, might as well. It looks like rain anyway. My car doesn't handle wet roads very well."
The heavens opened up just as they reached the diner. Shuffling quickly inside, Mary Margaret grabbed a vacant booth near the exit while Emma leaned against the large front window, peering around painted jack-o-lanterns, to watch the rain. From her seat, the brunette just made out Dr. Hopper racing across the street, no doubt seeking shelter from the storm in his office.
"Hey Mary Margaret," Ruby called from behind the counter.
"Hi Ruby. Can we get a couple of hot cocoa's?" Mary Margaret asked, as she removed her jacket.
"Of course," the waitress replied, directing a smirk at Emma's back. "Whipped cream and cinnamon?"
"The works," she confirmed.
"Coming right up."
Emma pushed away from the window and took the seat opposite Mary Margaret. "Any idea how long it's going to rain?"
"I don't think very long," she answered with a shrug. "The forecast was for scattered showers all afternoon."
"Right." Emma removed her red leather jacket and tossed it down on the seat next to her. They sat in a reasonably comfortable silence for a few moments until Ruby returned with their beverages.
"Nice," Emma said, eying the cocoa that was just placed in front of her. She grabbed a spoon from the table and dug into the whipped topping.
"I told you," Ruby bragged. "Can I get you ladies anything else?"
The blonde shook her head, her mouth filled with delicious cream and cinnamon.
"No thank you, Ruby," Mary Margaret replied. She wrapped her hand around the mug. "I'm fine with just this."
A wolfish grin spread across the waitresses face. "I'm off in an hour. Want to hit the Rabbit Hole tonight?'
"School night," the teacher answered before sipping the cocoa.
Ruby rolled her eyes. "What about you Emma? Monday night special. Half priced drinks 'til nine!"
"Rain check?" the blonde asked as she took a small sip of her drink, testing the temperature.
That earned another eye roll from the tall brunette. "Hilarious," she called out on her way back to the kitchen.
Mary Margaret watched Emma smile as she blew on her cocoa. There was something about her that seemed so familiar. Boston was pretty close to Storybrooke... though was pretty sure the blonde had never made it into town before. "So what do you think of Storybrooke?"
"I like it so far. Haven't really seen that much though," Emma answered, setting down her mug.
"And you're from Boston?"
She shook her head. "All over actually. I move around a lot."
"For work?"
"Yes and no," the blonde replied with a smirk, as though she'd experienced this exact same interrogation many times before. "My job lets me be pretty flexible with where I live. I don't really like to stay in one place for too long." She took another small sip of her cocoa.
"We'll that's exciting. You're a nomad." Mary Margaret concluded, raising her own beverage to her lips. "It makes sense that you'd want to give up Henry."
Emma's eye's went wide.
Oh my God. Did I say that out loud?
An occasional sufferer of foot-in-mouth disease, Mary Margaret clamped a hand over her lips, nearly dropping her cocoa in the process. She imagined her face was now a shade or two darker than the fruit that grew in the back courtyard of City Hall. "Emma, I am so sorry! I can't believe I just said that. I shouldn't have assumed anything about your situation."
The blonde looked very uncomfortable, casting a quick glance toward the door. Mary Margaret could practically see the wheels turning inside her head; she was looking for the quickest path out of Dodge.
"Please don't leave," she said quickly, hoping it didn't sound like she was begging. "I really am sorry." When the blonde still looked unsure, Mary Margaret added, "We don't have to talk about this."
Emma didn't seem able to meet her eye, but she'd stopped eying the exit, which probably meant she wasn't going to bolt any second.
Maybe.
She took a rather large gulp of her cocoa, that surely must have burned the entirety of her throat, and then opened her mouth to speak. "I never really wanted to give him up."
"You don't have to explain yourself."
They sat in an uncomfortable silence. "You had questions about Henry?" Mary Margaret finally questioned, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere less awkward.
Emma sighed. "Why don't we start with something easier." She looked up. "What can you tell me about his mom?"
Mary Margaret nearly spit out a mouthful of cocoa. As one of the few people who had known the Mayor since childhood, she didn't think talking about Regina would be any easier. "What would you like to know?" she asked cautiously.
Emma sat back in her seat. "Well for starters, is she always so..." she struggled for the right words. "Yeah, there's no nice way to put this."
"I think I get the idea," Mary Margaret frowned. "I've actually known her for most of my life." The school teacher paused, collecting her thoughts. "And no, she wasn't always like this. I mean, she's always been distant, but never so... cold." The brunette could easily recall a time when Regina had been... well not carefree exactly... but certainly much softer. As children, they had spent a substantial amount of time together. Regina was several years older, but they'd developed a bond that Mary Margaret still looked back on quite fondly. She'd been a good friend once.
"Regina has had a rough go of it these last few years," she explained. More than a few if she was being completely honest.
"Because of Henry?" the blonde asked.
"More recently, yes." Mary Margaret hesitated to say more. She knew it probably wasn't a good idea to start spilling the Mayor's secrets to the blonde newcomer, but Emma really did seem to care about Henry. And he had seemed better today. Getting the blonde involved might be just what the boy needed, even though Regina would probably disagree.
"He's had some problems in school," she finally revealed.
"I thought you said he was a good student?"
"Not academic problems," Mary Margaret clarified. "The issue was with some of the other children."
Emma sighed. "Is that a nice way of saying he's been fighting?"
The brunette looked down at her mug. "I only started working at the elementary school last year, so this is all second hand information, but from what I was told, there were several altercations." She took a sip of cocoa, thinking back to the conversation she'd had with the school librarian during last summer's in-service.
"Did he hurt anyone?" Emma said to her mug.
"I'm sorry?" Mary Margaret asked quickly, eying the deflated blonde. Did Emma really think Henry could have been the aggressor?
"Oh, I assumed..." Emma trailed off.
"No," the school teacher shook her head. "Emma, no. It was a pair of fifth graders. Henry was in second grade then." She frowned, thinking of how the school had failed him. "It went on for a while before anyone figured it out." She paused. "Regina was furious. She wanted the boys expelled."
"Were they?" Emma asked, suddenly sounding a bit angry herself.
"No," Mary Margaret shook her head. "They were suspended and Henry was switched to a different class in another building..."
"But?"
"But, there were still problems." The brunette shrugged. "I really don't know the details. He did finish off second grade, but Regina decided to keep him home last year."
"She home schooled him?" Emma asked.
Mary Margaret nodded. "Yes. She was going to keep him home again this year, but at the last minute she changed her mind. He was added to my class list in late August."
"Wow." Emma let out a long breath. "That explains some of this." She thought for a moment. "How long has he been seeing the shrink?"
"That I don't know."
The blonde raked her fingers through her hair and leaned against the table. Suddenly she looked very sad. "I really hoped he wouldn't have to deal with crap like this." Emma looked up to meet Mary Margaret's eyes. "I wanted to give him his best chance."
Mary Margaret instinctively reached her hand across the table, but stopped just short of touching Emma's arm. The blonde didn't seem to notice. "You shouldn't doubt yourself Emma. Like I said before, I really don't know the circumstances of Henry's adoption, but I can assure you that he's in a good home. Regina is devoted to him."
"And she's a good mother?" The blonde was clearly looking for reassurance.
"I know she is," Mary Margaret said sincerely.
Emma considered that for a moment. "What about his curse 'theory'? How did that start?"
"Yea... that was my fault," the brunette said sheepishly.
"Because you gave him the book?"
She nodded. "I really wish I hadn't. I never dreamed he'd would think it was real."
"Did you write it?"
"Oh no," Mary Margaret replied. "I found it in the pawnshop down the street." She had been by the store looking for a replacement tea set, when she'd spotted the leather bound tome resting underneath a creepy pair of wooden dolls. For reasons beyond her comprehension, she had felt compelled to buy the book. Mr. Gold didn't tell her much about it at the time, only that it was written by a local author who hadn't been able to get the book published. He hadn't given her the authors name. After the purchase, Mary Margaret practically inhaled the stories.
"I'm not ashamed to say that I absolutely loved it," she told Emma. "I read it cover-to-cover over a weekend back in July." She sipped her quickly disappearing cocoa. "Did you get a chance to read it?"
Emma shook her head. "Henry gave me the Cliff's Notes on the ride up from Boston, but I did look at a few of the illustrations last night. I didn't get to see how it ended though. I doubt I will now."
Mary Margaret agreed. Now that the book was in Regina's possession, she didn't think it would see the light of day for quite some time. At least not while Henry believed her to be the Evil Queen.
"Well I suppose I could spoil it for you." Mary Margaret suggested. She went on when the blonde didn't object, "The story ends with the Evil Queen casting the curse."
"That's kind of a downer," Emma observed.
"Well it was more of a cliff-hanger," she hesitated before she went on, knowing Emma's supposed 'role.' "Just before the end, Rumpelstiltskin prophesied a 'Savior' who would break the curse."
"Huh," the blonde looked confused. "I wonder why Henry didn't mention that part?"
Mary Margaret shrugged, waiting for Emma to put the pieces together. It was a bit surprising that Henry hadn't mentioned his reason for collecting Emma, though she guessed, that he had been afraid of scaring her off. He really was very smart for his age.
"I assume there will be a sequel eventually," Mary Margaret added. She would have to remember to stop by Gold's shop and ask him about that.
"What confused me," Emma began, "was how Henry connected this town with the story. That curse sounded pretty vague. It was supposed to what? Take away all the happy endings or something like that? How does he associate the loss everyone's happiness, with being stuck in some poorly named New England fishing town?" Emma made a face. "You know, I think I just answered my own question."
"First of all, were a village not a town," the brunette corrected, feigning insult. She could tell the blonde was teasing her. "And I think Storybrooke is a fine name." She made a face as if she smelled something foul. "You're right about the fishing part though," One thing Mary Margaret never liked about her home town, was the constant lingering aroma of canned sardines. She wouldn't go anywhere near the docks in the summer, the stench simply unbearable.
Catching the look on the other woman's face, Emma quipped. "Are you sure you're not Ariel?"
"Oh, ha ha," Mary Margaret drawled. "It is actually kind of funny though. When I was a little girl, my mother would always dress me as Snow White for Halloween. The only brunette Disney princess." She smiled at the memory. "And I absolutely hated it. I wanted to be a hero and there I was, always dressed as this... damsel in distress. I remember watching that movie as a little girl and being so angry. Why didn't she throw that apple back at the Evil Queen, and take back her Kingdom?" She thought back to the first time she read Henry's book. "As much trouble as that book has caused... well, credit where it's due; this new version of Snow White is so much better."
Emma smiled at her. "Does is almost make you want to pull a sword on Madame Mayor?"
Mary Margaret laughed a little too loudly at that. "Oh God, could you imagine?" She gave a quick look around the diner to ensure no one was in earshot, then leaned across the table and said, "Please don't repeat this back to Henry, but when he first told me that I was Snow White, my first thought was how amazing it would be." She smiled at the thought. "To be the hero, a character so pure of heart that she was adored by an entire kingdom. Even though that's not me at all, it was certainly a nice ego boost." She blushed. "I'm embarrassed to say when he told me, the eleven year old in me wanted to grab a sword and ride off to find my Prince Charming."
"Doesn't that happen the other way around?"
"Not in the real world," Mary Margaret huffed, thinking of a certain blue eyed stable manager. She shook her head, "Anyway, it's always fun to imagine greatness... to pretend to be something more than we are." She finished the last of her cocoa.
Mary Margaret quickly lost track of time.
Ruby had refilled their cocoas while they continued their discussion on fairy tales. Emma had explained that she preferred Grimm's tales over the Disney adaptations - though she did say that, 'gun to her head,' Peter Pan was her favorite of the animated films. From there, the conversation meandered to talk of Emma's life in the real world. Mary Margaret leaned that the blonde was a bounty hunter who had spent time in Pittsburgh, Chicago, New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Tallahassee (She'd hated Philadelphia, but loved Baltimore). She'd only been in Boston for a little over six months.
Mary Margaret, in turn, explained how she'd always wanted to teach elementary school. She told Emma how most of her life had been spent in Storybrooke, except for four years of college at the University of Connecticut. She blushed when she mentioned that her father had been Mayor before Regina, and that some of the older citizens still treated her like royalty.
Almost an hour passed before Mary Margaret's eyes fell to the window behind Emma. The sun was once again visible, though extremely low in the sky. "Oh, it looks like the rain stopped."
The blonde reached into the pocket of her jacket and retrieved a cell phone, checking the display. "Yeah, I should probably head out soon."
Mary Margaret caught some motion by the front entrance of the diner. She smiled to herself, while Emma scrolled on her phone. "Are you going to say goodbye to Henry?"
"I don't think so," the blonde said without looking up. "Kid probably thinks I'm already go-"
"Emma!" Henry shouted from the door.
Emma jumped as the boy hurried over.
"You're still here! I knew you'd stay!"
When Henry reached them, Mary Margaret got a good look at his mud soaked clothing. He wore dark riding pants, a flannel shirt, brown boots that nearly reached his knees, and what appeared to be all of the dirt and grim in Storybrooke.
Emma took in his appearance. "Geez, what happened to you kid?"
Henry shrugged. "I had a lesson with David, but it started raining." He looked down at his clothing. "Then I slipped."
Mary Margaret looked at the door. "Did David drop you off?"
Henry nodded. "Yea, he had to go back and clean up the horses." He looked at Emma. "I rode Comet today, but I like Lenny better."
"Wait, horses? Your mom lets you ride horses?" The blonde looked surprised. Then incredulous. "Does she ride too?"
"Regina?" Mary Margaret snorted. "No. She hates riding. Her father bought the stables when she was just a girl, but she never took to it. I haven't seem her on a horse in..." she thought for a moment, "Wow, almost thirty years." Mary Margaret suddenly felt very old.
"I trust you're not giving away all my secrets, Ms. Blanchard."
It was Mary Margaret's turn to jump. Regina quickly materialized behind Henry. She had a small duffel bag strung over one shoulder and was eying the mud on her son's clothing with clear displeasure. "How was your lesson?"
"It was fine," the boy answered with a shrug.
"Did you wear your helmet?" she asked as she scrapped some dried mud from his hair.
"Duh, mom. Davi- Mr. Nolan, won't let you ride without it."
She handed him the bag. "You're a mess. Go change before Mrs. Lucas makes you clean the floors." She pushed him toward the bathroom. "And wash your hands, those nails are filthy." He turned to look at Emma for a moment, as if she would put a stop to this injustice, before quickly shuffling off under his mother's glare.
"Ms. Swan," Regina began, her eyes still locked on the retreating form of her son. "I thought you'd be half way to Boston by now."
"Decided to wait out the storm," Emma explained.
Regina settled her gaze on the blonde. "Well it's no longer raining. As they say, 'no time like the present.'"
When Emma didn't agree, Henry's mother continued. "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough. You should go. Now."
The blonde narrowed her eyes. "Or what?" She leaned back against her seat and crossed her arms in front of her.
"Oh, nothing like that dear." The Mayor's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "You misunderstand me. It's getting dark," she explained as she brushed some lint off her tailored black slacks. "I wouldn't want you to run into any trouble getting home."
Emma smiled right back at her. "Actually I was thinking of staying the night. Everyone's been so friendly here. And I'm a big fan of the coast. Maybe tomorrow I'll take a boat tour." She met the Mayor's eye. "This town's really growing on me."
"It is?" Mary Margaret blurted out. Neither woman acknowledged her.
Regina stared down at Emma, unamused. "It's time for you to leave, Ms. Swan."
"Is that a threat?" Emma demanded.
"If that's what is required to make you see reason," Regina volleyed back.
Emma stood up from the booth, stepping right up to the Mayor. For a split second, Mary Margaret thought the blonde was going to take a swing. Instead, she said, "Here's the thing, Madame Mayor. The more you try to push me out, the more I want to stay in town, just to piss you off."
Mary Margaret's eyes went wide. No one spoke to Regina like that.
Ever.
Regina scrutinized the blonde, her smile growing. She looked like she was enjoying Emma's defiance. "An admirable goal, surely. However, what you fail to see is that I'm acting in your best interest."
"How's that?" Emma crossed her arms. She clearly didn't plan on backing down.
"After you left this afternoon, I took a look through my son's little book," the Mayor explained. "Henry seems to have cast you as the hero of this tale. The 'Savior'."
Emma visibly deflated.
Regina continued, "That's quite the burden he's placed on the woman who so callously tossed him away." Emma opened her mouth to object, but the Mayor was on a roll. "So, my dear, unless you're somehow planning to break a nonexistent curse, you hold no value here. Eventually Henry will realize that and see you for who you really are." Regina didn't clarify what she meant by that, but Mary Margaret noticed Emma pale when she said it. The Mayor straightened her blazer and added, "Why get attached when soon enough you'll hold no more interest to him, than the drum set gathering dust in my basement? Wouldn't it be best to cut your losses now?"
Emma looked speechless, her mouth a gap.
"Close your mouth dear, you'll catch flies."
"Mom? Emma?" Henry had returned, now dressed in a clean blue tee-shirt and jeans. "Is everything okay?"
"Or course sweetheart," Regina replied, her voice much softer. She ran her fingers over his hair, straightening his bangs. "Ms. Swan and I were just discussing how beautiful coastal Maine can be this time a year." She turned back to Emma. "If you're really interested in that boat tour, you should try Portland. I hear Casco Bay is quite lovely." She dropped a hand on Henry's shoulder. "Well, we really shouldn't keep you any longer. You have a long drive ahead of you, after all. Say goodbye Henry."
"Emma? You're leaving?" The boy looked ready to panic.
Mary Margaret turned to the blonde. Any confidence she'd had in dealing with Regina seemed to have vanished after the Mayor's monologue. Emma looked down at Henry sadly. "Yeah, Kid." She knelt down to his level. "I probably won't see you again."
Henry launched himself at the blonde, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "But you have to stay!" He stopped short of explaining why, though based on Regina's eye roll, she'd understood his urgency. Emma, for her part, didn't look particularly comfortable with the unexpected hug. She patted Henry's on the back a few times, clearly unsure what else to do to make him feel better.
"Henry," Regina said, a slight edge to her voice. "It's time to go."
Emma released Henry and stood up. "You're a good kid. You're going to be fine."
Henry looked as though he wanted to protest, but Regina was already guiding him to the door. "Ms. Blanchard, Ms. Swan," she said over her shoulder, in lieu of a proper good bye. As the boy's mother pulled open the door to the diner, Mary Margaret heard her ask of her son, "So, what would you like for dinner tonight?"
She did not hear a reply.
Emma turned, watching them through the front window until they disappeared from sight behind the wall of the Storybrooke Pet Shelter. She dropped back onto the cushioned seat of the booth, her eyes locked on the red leather jacket next to her.
Mary Margaret really couldn't think of anything to say. Thankfully, Ruby didn't have that problem. She approached them, sans apron, now dressed in tight black leather pants and a red halter top. "You two look like you could use a drink." She wiggled her eyebrows.
Emma didn't react.
Mary Margaret looked up at Ruby. "I don't think so Ruby." She ignored the waitress' pout, adding, "You know I'm up early and Emma's driv-"
"Actually," Emma cut her off. The blonde looked up at Ruby. "Count me in."
"Really," Mary Margaret blurted. "You're sure?"
"Off course she is!" Ruby looked ecstatic. "Come on Mary Margaret. Now you have to come! It's just one night."
They were both looking at her.
Two against one.
So unfair.
Although, now that she thought about it, it had been a while since she'd gone out...
"Okay, but only one drink," Mary Margaret caved. "And I'm home by nine o'clock."
"Scouts honor," Ruby promised, grabbing Mary Margaret's arm and tugging her out of the booth before she could question whether or not the waitress had ever actually been a girl scout.
They took Ruby's vintage Camaro, with Emma and Mary Margaret sharing the back seat (the front was reserved for another friend of Ruby's; a foreign woman who had apparently just reopened the previously defunct clock tower library ).
Emma was quiet for the entire trip to the bar, making Mary Margaret wonder why she'd agreed to come at all. She didn't dwell on it for very long though. Once the first drinks arrived, the conversation and laughter flowed quite easily. When Mary Margaret left at nine-thirty, Ruby and Emma were still playing pool. They looked like old friends.
It had been a wonderful night, Mary Margaret concluded when she arrived home. Really, the most fun she'd had in a long time. While she doubted Emma would stay another day, she was happy to have met the blonde. In another world, they surely would have been great friends.
[to be continued]