The rating goes back to the original T rating. Hee hee.

I struggled GREATLY with this chapter…I'm still not sure if this is the direction I want to go in but….it is what it is…eeeeehhhhhhh.

Before the chapter, though, is a small character bio on Laura. I thought I'd give some minor details and stuff, kinda to help summarize her character all neat and tidy like.

Anyway, here it is!

Eating oatmeal and watching Cars 2 past midnight,

Kelsey

CHARACTER BIO

Name: Laura Haris

Gender: Female

Age: 18

Birthday: January 8th

Heritage: English and German

Personality: Reserved, introverted; clever and sarcastic; rejects emotion; skeptical on most topics

Family: Lives with father (Derek) and mother (Gretchen); also had a brother, Liam (deceased)

Likes: Mathematics, corned beef sandwiches, quiet, winter, cotton, wild birds, playing piano, solving puzzles, cold drinks (including tea and coffee), chewing things (even pencils), clear-cut lines, black and white.

Dislikes: Illogical things, cold hands, history, hot beverages, purple, talking, calamari, archaeology, dust, whipped cream, emotions, fried food.

Idiosyncrasies/Weird habits: Laura is obsessive-compulsive; it may not be apparent in the story, but she obsesses over things to an excessive degree and occasionally gets weird impulses. Additionally, she can not fathom wearing another's clothing, as fibrous materials irk her, and feels awkward should she step on cracks in the sidewalk or the ending hem of rugs/carpets. Laura never skips a meal, only uses toilet paper that hangs over the roll rather than under, and makes a mental note of which foot she starts walking up a staircase with (as she strives to use the opposite foot the next time, to make it 'even').

History: In the beginning of the story, Laura lives with her wealthy parents in a large cottage-style home. She attends the Grissom's College for Women just outside of London, a prestigious academy for only the most intelligent women. Laura achieves a mathematics/engineering academic scholarship during her first semester of college.

When she was 12, she lost her brother, Liam, to leukemia (he was 5). She was very close to him and remains psychologically scarred from the event. For almost an entire year she would only find the energy to play piano (something her brother loved listening to), sometimes non-stop for almost 24 hours. This allowed her piano skills to develop with unheard of haste, yet she will play only when there is no audience.

Laura's father is extremely overprotective, and has unattainable expectations. Without a son, he raised his daughter as a boy-as well as a girl-to make up for the lack of a son, that is, until Laura was 7 (Liam was born). After the death of his son, he forced his daughter into extracurricular activities due to her unhealthy obsession with the piano. She was forced to engage in martial arts, mathematics and engineering exposure courses, and academic lectures throughout her regular schooling career. Upon choosing a college, Laura's father would allow no college to be considered other than Grissom's.

Laura's mother is frail and weak mentally, as well as unsupportive. She never opposes her husband. She is a socialite, and only expects the best of manners from her daughter. She never lets her daughter deviate from societal expectations, even in the slightest, and requires her to behave as any "woman of class" should; this is only contrasted with when Laura has to obey her father's expectations of a son (knowing martial arts, learning mechanical know-how, etc.).

In conclusion, Laura has very little opportunities to express herself personally, and is considered "antisocial" by her parents, as well as many of her peers. She has no friends, and suppresses her feelings. She prizes logic and order to everything else, and prefers methodical, mundane activities, especially over hip or typical ones. This seems to contrast her mental genius, as she rarely pursues goals that truly put her brain to work.

During Laura's first year at college, she meets Professor Layton at Grissom's, as he is her archaeology professor. She is forced to take archaeology as an elective. Although only an assistant, visiting professor, Layton teaches at Grissom's while maintaining a position at Gressenheller University as well.

Laura naturally shies away from anyone or anything that does not pertain to her personal goals, and initially sees little to no use in archaeology. However, as she finds that her professor and her have more in common, she also finds herself making more and more appointments with Layton, unintentionally developing feelings for him. Going against his better judgment, Layton also finds himself wanting to spend more time with Laura, although a student, and invites her to several various events around London, including studying at his home. Neither mentions specifically their true feelings for the other, although both find it obvious and both naturally see to it that no one suspects that the two spend more time together than teachers and students normally do. However, after almost two semesters of bottling up his feelings, Layton confesses to Laura that she's much more than a student, and after going too far, decides that it's best if he leaves Grissom's and stops having a hidden relationship that would threaten getting both of them in serious social trouble. Laura's distraught, and vows to hate Layton forever for making her feel loved and wanted, and then throwing it all away without so much as an apology.

And...that's it for now. Enjoy Chapter 24!

CHAPTER 24: BITTERSWEET

In a dimly lit, uncommonly quiet hallway, Professor Layton locked up his office just as the night shift janitors began their cleaning. Other than the delicate splok of the water sodden mop hitting the tile floor repeatedly, there was no sound to be heard, and he was grateful for the silence.

Exhaustion slowly inched through his limbs as he slipped into his car and headed home. It was typical—the boring, daily grind—but his mental state was anything but. His afternoon rattled, he decided it wasn't for the best, such affairs coming up, especially when he was supposed to be going through thesis papers and preparing for excavation presentations.

'Of all people to spring such things upon me…why someone serving as an emotional catalyst? Why not someone with no past, no…baggage? Why do I feel a sense of relief, but simultaneously, a grave burden being forced upon me?

Truly, I'm thankful that such a word exists to sum up my feelings: bittersweet.'

Tiredly, he knocked on the door to his flat, knowing it'd be quicker to be let in by those inside than to look around his person for his keys. A light set of footsteps could be heard from the inside, prancing up to the door.

"Who is it?" came a small feminine voice.

"It's me…"

Flora opened the door quickly. "You're back so late, Professor! Luke saved you some dinner, but I'm sure it's not as good warmed up as it was right from the oven!"

"It'll do, either way." Layton hung up his belongings, even his hat, and made his way to the kitchen, finding Luke finishing up with dishes. "Thank you, Luke, for your hard work."

"Ah, Professor! I left you some dinner in the refrigerator. Should be a little warm still, if you hurry with it," the boy suggested cheerily. "Oh, by the way, Laura stopped by. Said she has something important to tell you, and she'll be in room 307, if you would stop by the hotel later. I told her she should just stick around since you'd be back and all, but—"

'Oh yes, just where I want to go,' the Professor grumbled internally. 'But, it must be done, I fear.'

"Luke, I'd like for you and Flora to get yourselves to bed soon. I don't mind if you catch a program or two before falling asleep, but I want you to get a good night's rest. I expect you in bed before 9."

"Absolutely, Professor!" the boy said, pulling off a pair of rubber gloves. "I'll let Flora know. Oh, and give this to Laura, would you?" He handed Layton a small paper bag. "I thought I'd get her a little gift."

"You really shouldn't leave the house to be getting gifts!" Layton admonished him with a slight whine. "How many times must I tell you not to leave by yourself? I'm going to have to bring you along when I go to the University if you keep sneaking off. Besides, you shouldn't be spending your money either."

Rubbing his hands together, Luke smiled awkwardly, his mouth in a guilty tilt. "Well, it wasn't exactly my money…"

"Or spending mine either!"

In what seemed like a matter of moments, Professor Layton finally stood outside of hotel room #307, working up the courage to knock on the door. The time from home to his current location was a blur, his thoughts elsewhere. Had he really just walked the block, fought the blustery wind for his hat, and waved off the incessant woman at the hotel counter ("Professor Layton! A pleasant surprise! Look, Linda, it's the Hershel Layton, in our quaint hotel! I wonder why he's here anyway…")?

The typical without-fail questions started pouring through his mind ("What if it's not the correct room?", "What if it's a trap of some sort?", etc.). Finally, with a heavy sigh, he tapped his knuckles against the thick wooden door, his resolve still thin.

The door pulled away from the frame, a golden chain bridging the small opening. A voice spoke but no physical body was to be seen. "May I ask who it is?"

"Professor Hershel Layton of Gressenheller University. I wish to speak with Laura Haris. I believe she's staying in this room?"

A light giggle came from the other side. "Such a grand title! Professor Hershel Layton of Gressenheller University…" The door quickly closed and the chain was removed, Laura walking away as she left the door cracked. "So sad, you don't even recognize my voice anymore."

Layton cautiously entered, eyes lazily moving left and right to analyze the room. "I didn't want to assume..."

"First things first, I don't want this to erupt into—"

"No, let me start." He cleared his throat, cheeks reddening. "I'd like to apologize for earlier. I wasn't…exactly myself. I guess I was a little bit overwhelmed with everything, all at once. Screaming at you was uncalled for."

He followed the girl to a set of plush recliner chairs. Sitting back with a weak grin, Laura chuckled. "Half accepted. For the sake of getting my real problems out into the open, I'll accept your apology…only for right now. It's really not good enough. No, it's not. I have a lot to say to you, but, for now…" She folded her hands. "Please, take a seat."

"It'll have to suffice. It's hardly all I want to say to you either, but yes, for the sake of the current situation… Although, I wish I didn't feel so apprehensive about all this," he said admittedly with some reluctance.

"That's your intuition acting up!" she laughed. "Good to see you've still got it. You'll need it. Because you should be a bit apprehensive. After all, I am. Tea?"

Layton smiled effortlessly. "Of course. Hot, even! Did you make this yourself?"

"No one else here, is there? See if you can tell what it is. I had Luke go buy me some things in town. I'm sure he already told you it was a gift, but it was really my request…" She halfheartedly tossed a wad of paper bills into his lap. "Payment."

"Really, it's nothing, you don't need to pay." The Professor poured himself a cup of the hot tea, breathing in the golden liquid's scent. "Ah, it's Gingersnap tea. How did you manage to recall the recipe? It's rather difficult…"

"Good memory."

"I gave you another recipe as well. Why not memorize the one I knew you'd personally care for?"

"Well, I figured you'd be coming here tonight, and I'm the one requesting your aid, so I might as well make you feel comfortable," she said with a small shrug. "I don't have much trouble with memorizing things, you know. Not hard to recall, really… Anyway, enjoy the stuff."

After several sips, Layton looked at her over the rim of his cup. "Requesting my aid? If you'd be so kind as to shed some light on your troubles, I'd be happy to offer my assistance wherever necessary. However, if it involves taking up my entire evening, I may need to continue another time…"

"I'll have an overview laid out within minutes. The 'helping me' part…may take months." She grinned sheepishly as he sighed and gave an obvious reaction of disapproval.

"Months?"

"Don't worry. After it's over, I'll be out of your hair. Again. Forever."

Layton shook his head. "That's…that's not what I meant but—"

"Well what else could that sigh and your drab expression mean? I'm not an idiot, you know!" She rolled her eyes, rubbing her knees out of habit. "I'm not trying to kill your social life or anything...not that you have one…"

"That is true, but—Hey! That's not what I'm concerned about!—It's just that…well…" He shook the dregs in his cup, the remaining contents swirling around like an unenthused cyclone. "I've already taken quite a bit of time off, solving other things, offering my help to others recently, and—"

"That how you picked up that little girl?" Laura quipped, a snide smile stretched across her face. "Getting them younger and younger, aren't you, Hershel?"

"Now that is not funny," the man huffed angrily, clearly offended. "She has no where else to go. It's not a matter of choice: it's a matter of necessity. I'm giving her a place to stay for the time being, it's a rather lengthy story, and—"

"—and it's one I really don't need to hear right now!" she interrupted quickly, sensing an elaborate explanation coming on. "I was just giving you a hard time, as you hadn't mentioned Flora before, and I find her there when I happen to stop by. It's just a bit random, is all. Not every day you find your former professor with two random children in his flat!"

"Well, if you put it that way…"

A silence tore through the conversation. Layton shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the pause. Laura finally exhaled audibly.

"I guess, when it comes down to it, you've done quite a bit, since back then… I'm almost jealous. I missed out on a lot, didn't I?" she said feebly, giving a wry smile.

"Unless you care for archaeological discoveries and extensive research in the field, I doubt you've missed anything."

"I mean, you keep having all these stories. There's so much history lost. I regret it being gone. I regret it being lived, but…not experienced. At least not by me." Shaking her head, she laughed nervously. "I'm sorry. I'm exercising my emotions a bit too much. To business."

Layton frowned, understanding her feelings, but not knowing how to respond. The past was indeed still the past. There was no way to review and redo, but he felt the memories tangible enough to jump back into them, a pool of yesteryear at his feet. His stomach felt as if it had collapsed, his heart falling into it endlessly, a hyperbolic, visceral black hole."Yes, if you will continue."

"I'll try to be quick about it, as I really need to make a phone call before 10, if you don't mind my rushing. As I mentioned earlier, I work at Petrolite. I have been for…well, I suppose technically it's been five years."

The Professor looked at her curiously. "Technically?"

"Yes. That is to say, I wasn't really aware that I was working for this company. That's one curious bit about this entire thing," she said with a shake of her head. "I hope you find this worth your while. My intuition is rather sharp, if I may say so, and I feel the whole thing is odd, but I don't have much in the way of proof. It might sound odd to an outsider…"

"Laura," Layton said softly, setting his cup on the table, "I don't need any proof right now. Explain your situation, and I'll see to it that the feeling that's causing you unrest gets straightened out. Now, some background, if you will."

She didn't know why it was so awkward explaining her problem. She wasn't sure if it was because she was merely speculating, guessing at her plight, or because she felt the need to figure out her problems on her own. Or perhaps, it was because she had to break from a ten-year period of no communication with the man in front of her, one who'd caused her to feel every emotion in the book, including genuine, passionate (if not awkward) love accompanied with murderous rage. She looked briefly into his face, accepting his eagerness as genuine rather than a façade in order to hurry her along. She decided he'd aged a bit, his eyes deeper, his smile more practiced. A smile that could be trusted, even years later. Even if it had led her astray once before, it was now renewed and infallible.

With a strong sigh, she gripped the arms of her chair. "Alright. Here goes.

"I received a letter in the post five years ago. It wasn't addressed to me personally. As for the content of the letter, it merely was seeking the attention of those who had been in engineering or archaeology courses at Gressenheller or Grissom's. It was almost like a general advertisement or brochure, mailed to those who had attended or were attending either school. According to the paper, they wanted help with archaeological excavations. They were building a research group, and engineers were wanted. Immediately, I responded. It would be easy, and it was an opportunity to possibly get some money, or at least brush up on my engineering skills again.

"I met with the head of the group, and he was impressed with my knowledge. He claimed to have heard of me, which helped a bit, I believe, as I was quickly made manager of his main project, no questions asked. My task was to build a drill capable of obliterating the earth's crust and drilling several hundred feet deep, even in large bodies of water. It was apparent the guy was obsessed with oceans, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was searching for Atlantis or something, as ludicrous as I think that sounds."

Layton lifted his hand, signaling for her to stop for a moment. "My feelings about Atlantis aside, did he give any reason as to why he gave you such specifications for your machine?" he asked, interest piqued. "The oceans bit seems quite specific."

"None, no reasoning. I assumed it was for archaeological purposes, but who am I to question what those might be? He wanted a machine, I built it. Everyone on the team was a somebody in the field of archaeology. They were all pretty knowledgeable. A few were professors from various institutions around Britain. I figured if they were all in on it, it was all fine and dandy.

"However, things became a bit…off, when my employer began to shift his focus from excavations to oil. It was then that I learned that he was also the co-owner and head manager of Petrolite Industries. It was odd that he would all of a sudden be more interested in pounds per oil barrel than how the research was coming along. Not long after, most of those who were working with me were let go, and everything research oriented came to a halt. It all became about oil. I was one of a small group that helped keep the drills in check and make sure they continued to be in good working order. Ensure a smooth performance and whatnot. What for, I didn't really know at the time.

"Things got even more curious when my employer kept alluding to some "great plan". It wasn't long after when he became so powerful in the oil industry that he essentially was only one of few making the rules. England fell into a slump with the outrageous prices, and the rest is history."

The Professor tapped his fingers against his leg thoughtfully. "This merely sounds like an egotistical tycoon capitalizing on some black gold," he muttered, enthused. "What do you need my help with? Leaving the company without being hassled and or harassed?"

"Ha ha," said Laura sardonically, reducing her eyes to slits. "If this were only that, we'd be done here and you'd be absentmindedly grading some obtuse report from some snot-nosed prat instead of talking with me right now. And although I can guess which you'd rather be doing, I still require your brains and second-opinions."

"As I've already graded all of my snot-nosed, obtuse reports, I think I still might choose a witty conversation and some tea with my old student, if it's alright with you," he stated with a daring smile. He poured himself another cup of tea, feeling more open and comfortable than when he first entered the bright hotel room. He noticed Laura relaxing a bit as well, her demeanor settling into its default of sharp cleverness with a playful dash of sarcasm.

'Has it really been ten years…?'

Laura let out a short laugh. "I daresay you would choose that. Anyway, I don't think it's merely one bloke getting a lucky break and running with it. The way he talks, the way he mentioned his 'grand scheme'…it's not just eccentricity. It's almost an obsession. I don't think taking over England's petrol prices was his 'grand scheme' or 'plan'; that's not grandiose enough, if you get my meaning. He's still driven. I get the feeling he's a megalomaniac. I think it's something else that he's , it's as if he's not the same person as when I first met him. Who shifts their focus in such a way? Archaeology to oil? And now he's not giving us—the few he's kept along for the ride—a clear agenda? I mean, I've had some projects, but… I don't know, it's just strange, any way you look at it. And why was I kept around, out of all the people out there who are available, much brighter than I am, by far? It's very odd. Why am I keeping some obnoxious drills working, going around placing them at oil reserves, when he might as well just do it himself? I stand around all day doing nothing but watching Tom and Jerry or the news, whichever kills my boredom first."

Layton nodded. "Indeed, it does sound strange, after all. There's one thing you failed to mention that might be of importance. Laura, what is your employer's name?"

"Leopold Chancey," she said with minor displeasure, as if the name left her mouth sour. "Stuck up brat with slick hair and a slick car to match."

"Chancey?" Layton asked with a confused expression. "As in, he's related to the Chancey's?"

Laura shrugged, her long hair rippling as she shook her head slowly. "As far as I know, he's a nephew to Edward Chancey II. I guess Leopold works alongside his uncle in the family oil business. But that's hearsay. I don't know for certain on who is related to whom."

The Professor sat quietly for a moment, his eyes boring holes into the air as he gazed across the room. He swallowed and then sighed, his brain failing him for the time being. "Leopold, Leopold… I can't say I know anything of him. If he is indeed a nephew, I wonder where Mr. Chancey's son, Edward III, is painted into the picture, if he is in it at all. The Chancey family has not been in the limelight for years now, despite the elder Edward's former involvement in archaeology and engineering. They seem to have fallen into obscurity, perhaps fortunately…"

"Rumor has it that Edward III felt out of favor with his father years ago. Apparently isn't much of an engineer, or a businessman. Pretty much useless to the man now running an empire. Anyway, that's all I know."

"I haven't seen Edward senior in years. I suppose now I know why, as such an enterprise would prove to be quite the undertaking." Layton rubbed his eyes and looked back at his former student, as if doing so would make the situation disappear, and he could be free to return to stagnancy. "Do you have any clues, any leads on anything? What is your agenda like specifically, other than catching daily cartoons? And why were you supposed to be recorded yesterday, if I may ask?"

"Oh," the girl said with a chuckle, ending in a snort. "Yes, that. That's another thing. Leopold got a bit paranoid recently. Said he feels that someone's trying to sell company secrets. In reality, I think he suspects me of something. Perhaps he can sense that I am on to him, in some way."

"How do you know this?"

"Simple: I'm the only one being monitored," she said, showing off her disabled watch, tapping it while looking at it affectionately. "Too bad for you, little watch. As for my most recent agenda, that's where you can start helping me!"

She rose from her seat with an energy from a past long gone, forgetting that she couldn't move as she once was able to. Layton called out as she almost tripped from her own knees locking up. "Are you alright?"

She giggled embarrassedly as she stumbled over to a suitcase. "Sometimes I forget I can't just shoot up and amble about! My adrenaline still moves me a bit faster than my legs can…"

The Professor stood over her as she searched her bags, rummaging through them hurriedly. "Don't you have some sort of cane or walking device to assist you? It would be to your benefit. Perhaps we should get you something—"

"And look like a dependent, 70 year old granny? If I fall from my own idiocy, then I guess it will teach me, won't it? Or not. I have quite a few scars. I don't learn." She stood up as straight as she could, handing him a small stack of folded papers. "Been to Italy?"

"But of course," he said proudly, opening the top most fold of the stack. "Wait, is this a ticket—"

"Well, you get to visit again, because you're going with me."

"I'm—what? No, I have classes to attend, to teach, I have lectures and—"

"Teach? Or, do your classes end up teaching you? I hear some of those girls have taken a fancy to you…"

He gripped the plane ticket tightly, the paper cracking underneath his fingers as it bent. "Well, that's quite debatable, I—"

"Look at those pink cheeks!" Laura laughed, in hysterics. "I bet the students run circles around you and that hat of yours! Anyone as forthright as Millie was? It's rather difficult to beat that."

The Professor groaned, tossing his hands up animatedly, revolted at the mention of his 'fans'. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, there're two of them, blatantly and unabashedly enamored. I don't have the foggiest notion of why, they pay attention to nothing but when my weekly office hours are announced, they are all ears," Layton rattled off grudgingly. "I'd almost beg to have them settle down to double of what Millie was. She was practically a saint compared to these two…"

"A Teresa and a Lily, if I'm not mistaken. Lily has a fondness for keys, if you catch my meaning…"

With a puzzled expression, Layton opened his mouth as if to ask a question, then gasped. "You don't mean—"

"I overheard a couple of girls talking when I left your office earlier. Mentioning about how next time they won't lock the keys inside your office, they'll just hold on to them until you give them some sort of favor. I didn't hang about to hear what that was supposed to mean… But regardless, it wasn't hard to figure out who the mastermind was. Luke told me about your locked office fiasco, and my ears perked up when I heard two loudmouths blabbering about in the halls."

"Indeed," he said with a slight snarl. "I swear, I never knew teaching college age women would be so difficult. Young people these days, there's very little couth."

"Oh indeed." She walked slowly to the door, declining the Professor's hand as he offered to prop her up. "Who would have thought young girls would find such a boring old professor to be so attractive?"

"Yes, who would have thought such a boring old professor would have to fight off such brazen young ladies?" he chuckled with a fleeting grin. "Yourself included."

Removing the chain to the door, Laura looked at him scornfully, trying to hide a grin. "Don't try flirting with me. I've noticed you slipping into your old mannerisms."

"Well, if you want me to accompany you and solve your little mysteries, you might try to humor me with your old mannerisms as well. I see you still harbor them; guess they just need fished out of you."

"That means you'll help me?"

"If you continue to forgive me for the time being, and perhaps smile." He straightened his hat. "You seem to have warmed back up a lot quicker than I would have expected, given earlier. And I must admit, I have as well. I was a bit worried at first, coming here tonight, but…" He looked at his feet, briefly jotting a mental note to shine his loafers before fighting off an embarrassed grin. "I'm…I'm glad you contacted me, regardless of what you might still feel. I'm not lying when I say I missed you. Terribly."

As Laura opened the door, she stared at the knob, her reflection fish-eyed and distorted in the brass. She fought herself momentarily, a battle of growing trust yet with gripping pain. "I…still have my reservations, but…I think it was the best option, yes. I need to get this sorted out, so…really, my only option, yes… Do you have to be so emotional, honestly!"

Professor Layton stepped out of the door, chuckling. "You're still very readable. You suppress your feelings so forcefully, you end up fermenting them for so long that eventually they just consume you. Inside, you're still fighting an emotional storm."

"Thank you, Dr. Layton," she muttered in a low growl, leaning against the door frame. "I believe that was our last counseling session. How much do I owe you?"

"Just a light fee, against my better judgment, but..." He bent forward quickly, his hand at the back of her neck, pulling her forward and placing a short kiss to her lips in the blink of an eye. "Next time, I'll charge the entire amount."

Laura almost fell over, barely catching herself on the door frame's molding as she jolted backward, attempting to avoid what was inevitably going to happen. "Y-You…you can't do that! Next time? Entire amount? There won't be a 'next time', you dolt! Don't think you can just waltz right back into my life as if—"

"—as if you wanted me to kiss you? I'm only acquiescing to the request of a beautiful lady. Is that not part and parcel of my creed?"

"I didn't…I didn't request anything…You are a downright, dirty rascal…" She fumed to herself as Layton walked down the hall with a laugh. "You are not a gentleman, and I haven't thought so for the past 10 years!"

With a tip of his hat, the Professor turned to face her and winked as he prepared to turn the corner. "I'll prove I'm more a gentleman than you remember. I'm just as different now as you are. And definitely for the better. I told you once before, you'd better stop that scowl. It's much too charming."

"Charming? I'll give you—"

"I'll speak with you further tomorrow!" he shouted, chuckling to himself softly.

And with that, followed by a slam of the door (courtesy of Laura), he was gone.

END.