Mr. Saturday Night Special

02

Commissioned by alethiophile.

"Urp, sorry."

Shinji sighed, holding Taylor's hair back as she threw up. Thankfully, she hadn't had breakfast yet, so it was just stomach acid. Still gross though. "It's fine. That you were willing to keep going until you threw up is good. Good determination. Bad though, because you need to know your limits and when to stop. You're still learning those, so it's fine. Here."

Taylor accepted the bottle of water he offered and washed her mouth out, before draining half of it. "My chest feels like a bruise."

"That happens," Shinji nodded. "Come on. Keep going. We're almost back. We can walk the rest of the way."

Taylor fell into step with him as they walked back to her house. "Why are you helping me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I mean… You're the first one to actually listen. You're going out of your way to help me with this. Normally, adults just… ignore me."

Shinji sent her a look. Taking a sip from his water bottle, he considered for a moment. "I was your age when we came to America from Japan. A lot of the kids weren't really nice. It was hard to fit in. I'm sure you've seen it, but girls and boys bully differently. Girls tend to be more verbal and emotional, where boys tend to just call each other 'faggot' and start throwing punches."

In Shinji's case, this had been in Brockton Bay, right after Leviathan sank Kyushu, during the influx of Asian refugees just before Lung forced the ABB into being. So for Shinji, it was also a bunch of 'FOB' for Fresh Off the Boat and other creative slurs. Even at Arcadia, he hadn't been exempt from it. Of course, that had lasted until he had gotten one of the members of the football team into a hold and threatened to tear his arm out of the socket and ruin any hopes he had of a professional career…

With boys, dealing with bullying was easier in some ways. They understand brute force—it's a language all boys speak. It's how they establish a pecking order between themselves, and even people who had treated someone like crap one day would make friends with their former victim, the moment they proved they weren't going to just lie down and take it.

"I hate people who abuse whatever power they have against others. Be that bullies, corrupt government, domestic abusers, capes—doesn't matter. The duty of the strong is to protect the weak, not take advantage of them. That's how I was raised. So you could say it's a vested personal interest to see you grow more self-confident and find the strength to confront the people abusing you."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Hm?"

Taylor sighed. "What if I don't want to confront them? What if I just want to be left alone?"

Humming, Shinji asked, "Do you think they will?"

"…No. But I don't want to sink to their level."

"What gave you that idea?"

The girl looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"What makes you think that defending yourself would be 'sinking to their level?'"

"I mean, it is—"

"It's not." They turned the corner and Shinji spotted her house up ahead, with his car parked in their driveway—Danny having left for work already. "Listen. Legally and morally, you have the right to defend yourself. We don't arrest people for self-defense unless it's very obvious that it was less 'self-defense' and more 'murdered someone and claimed self-defense.' You aren't morally stooping to their level. You teach people how you want to be treated and they teach you how they want to be treated. Right now, by just taking the abuse, you are teaching them that you won't do anything and they're justified in doing it because if they weren't allowed to, you would have done something about it. If you let people walk all over you, they will. Because they can. So unless you have some sort of martyr complex, you have to actually do something about it. If you want to be left alone, you need to both have the strength to force people to do so, and demonstrate a willingness to use that strength."

Taylor fell silent at that and they made their way up to the house. Glancing at his watch and leaning against his car, Shinji asked, "Do you have school today?"

"I've been excused until the end of the month."

"Alright. Good. Take the time to decompress. In the meantime, I need to do some snooping around the school. Do you know Emma, Madison, and Sophia's schedules? Specifically, when they're in P.E.?"

"Yeah. Madison has P.E. with me at two, Sophia and Emma have P.E. at one."

"Do you know what lockers they use?"

"Only Madison. She always picks the one in the back left corner, on the bottom. Why?"

"I need access to their phones. If you know know where Madison puts hers, that's fine. I'll make do." Opening the door and reaching in to turn the engine on and get it started warming up, he said, "I'll be by again about six. We'll start the self-defense training then. Your dad gave you the new grocery list?" When she nodded, Shinji asked, "What's your number? I'll text you a basic meal plan and some recipes."

"I uh, I don't have a cell phone." When Shinji raised an eyebrow, she quickly explained, "It's how my mom died. Texting while driving."

Shinji nodded. "That's awful. It really is. However. You're a teenage girl in Brockton Bay. The most dangerous city in the United States. One with a known human trafficking ring, a group of drug dealers who think it's funny to get kids addicted by holding them down and injecting them, and parahuman neo-Nazis. And you specifically are the target of a harassment campaign. It's awful that that happened, but as we've already seen, you having a cell phone would be damn handy the next time you get shoved in a locker."

"We can't afford one…"

Sending her a deadpan look, Shinji slid into his car. "I'll see you this afternoon."

"Wait, what about—"

Shinji cut her off with the thump of his door closing, before he pulled away to head home and get ready to go into the office. He knew her type—her and her father both. They would find every excuse in the book not to do something if they were against it, so if you wanted to make them to something, you pretty much had to do part of it for them to get them started. In this case, Shinji would be stopping by the local super mart and buying a couple of cheap pay-as-you-go phones.

"Kusanagi."

"Yeah, sarge?"

"How's that case coming along?"

Shinji looked up from his desk, frowning as he met Sergeant Baker's eyes. The sergeant didn't ask stupid questions and generally didn't micro-manage those under him. So having him ask Shinji for a status update barely twenty-four hours after handing over the files was… worrisome. "I've gone over all of the files. Spoke to the Heberts yesterday for some follow-up questions."

"Good, good. Anything stand out?"

"A few things. The girl's a good kid. Doesn't fit the profile for 'attention seeking,' 'narcissistic,' or 'compulsive liar' as witness testimony from the school would indicate. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell it's obviously a case of a bunch of kids all ganging up on one kid in particular. Question is, why's the faculty supporting it? My best guess is because of Barnes and her lawyer daddy and the school not wanting to get sued, but that's just a theory based on the notes. I'm going today to start doing interviews."

Baker nodded. "Nothing else?"

"Went by Smith's apartment to make sure he didn't leave any notes at home. Didn't find anything, but then his computer was locked. Think we can have it brought in and have the techies take a crack at getting the files out? Might be something important in there."

"I'll see what we can do," his sergeant agreed, but Shinji had a gut feeling that nothing would come of it. "You didn't find anything that might point to why someone might put a bullet in his head while you were there, did you?"

"No, sir. If I had, I'd have turned it in."

"Right. Alright," Baker frowned, before shaking his head. "In the meantime, see what you can dig up at Winslow. Let me know the minute you have something."

Shinji considered his superior for a moment before quietly asking, "Is there something I should know about?"

Just as quietly, the man answered. "No, son. Don't worry about it. Just pressure from up top to see this thing dead and buried."

"I'll do what I can. I was just taking care of paperwork and then I'm going to head to the school—"

"Forget that. I'll assign it to one of the rookies. You focus on this, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

The older man left and Shinji did as he'd been instructed—putting away his paperwork, making sure his desk was tidy, and gathering his things before heading down to the motor pool to pick up his vehicle. Shinji's car was an older model, black 1989 Ford LTD Crown Victoria LX. It had been parked in the back of the motor pool and mostly forgotten for years, when Shinji was promoted to detective and set to be assigned a car. Shinji had made friends in the motor pool and other key areas by then, so when it came time to get his new car, he had his pick of the litter—and he'd fallen in love with it immediately.

It was a beat up, dusty, rusted out, filthy piece of shit at the time but the car screamed 'classic Fed car' and that model just oozed class. Moreover, because everyone was using the new model 2009 to 2011 Crown Vics, anyone could spot one on sight. An older car like this? They were something your grandparents drove, these days. They blended into the background and were overlooked. So, Shinji had claimed it as his, spent some time and department funds getting it tuned up, repaired, and cleaned, had it repainted, and then outfitted with all the modern kit that went into the new Crown Vics.

Between the car, his suit and trench coat, and the snub-nosed .38 he kept on his ankle Shinji felt, and looked, like an old school detective out of those old movies and TV shows. He even had a fedora—though he preferred not to wear it most days. And with all of that… like his car, he just sort of blended in. He couldn't be a cop because he looked too much like an old school 'movie cop' to be a real cop. At least, until he pulled out the badge and made it real. It was kind of hilarious, when he thought about it.

Thankfully, the heater and air worked very well, so it didn't take long to warm up on the way to Winslow. After parking, he gathered his notepad, lockpick, and data dog and made his way inside.

No security guard or resource officer posted in the school? That seems like a hilariously bad idea, given everything with this shithole.

Shaking his head, he followed the signs to the office. Finding the door open, he knocked on the door frame twice, making the aging woman sitting at a desk clicking absently at her computer look up. Shinji smiled and pulled out his badge and ID as he walked in and stood in front of her desk, before putting them away. "Detective Kusanagi, BBPD. I'll be replacing Detective Smith. I need to go back and question all of the witnesses to the locker incident."

"Ah," the older woman frowned. Picking up the phone beside her desk, she hit a speed dial key and Shinji heard a phone ring behind the door bearing a brass nameplate, proclaiming it to belong to 'Principal Blackwell.' Quietly, she said, "A police officer is here, Ms. Blackwell. … No, not Mr. Smith. A new one. … Alright." She hung up and gestured towards the door. "Go on in."

Shinji nodded and went inside, finding a short, blonde woman inside sitting behind a desk. She stood and offered her hand across the desk, which Shinji shook. "Good morning, officer…?"

"Detective Kusanagi."

"Please, have a seat. What brings you, detective?"

"I'll be taking over the case from Detective Smith. As such, I need to see about scheduling new interviews with faculty and students. Also, I'm going to need a list of classes taking place immediately before and during the event, student rosters for those classes, and the name of every teacher in the vicinity."

"Are you… Do you suspect one of the students may have shut Ms. Hebert in the locker?" Blackwell asked, sounding incredulous.

"Are you suggesting she somehow broke into the school over the break, filled her own locker with trash and used feminine hygiene products, allowed it to fester over a break, then decided to go swimming inside and put a lock on the door behind herself?" he countered.

Blackwell frowned. "I've seen students do stranger things. Ms. Hebert has been known to make things up in the past. She's exhibited attention-seeking behavior and is a compulsive liar."

"Perhaps, but I prefer to be thorough. If that turns out to be the case, I'm sure it won't take long to sort things out. Now, that list? And if we could begin working out a schedule for interviews that causes as few disruptions to your classes as possible? Also, I'm going to need a room to conduct interviews out of."

"And how long do you expect this process to take? The other officer was at it over a week. We'd like to get this resolved as soon as possible. Perhaps you should consult with him for his findings?"

Shinji smiled. "It will take as long as it will take. As for Detective Smith, I'm afraid that isn't possible—all I have to go on are his notes."

"Oh? Was he terminated?"

"You could say that." Blackwell raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in her seat unconsciously. "He was killed, night before last—presumably on his way home from work. We aren't releasing any further details on the matter."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Frowning, Principal Blackwell began typing. "I'll have my secretary take care of that for you. Now, if you'll excuse me?"

"Certainly."

Leaving the office, Shinji waited while the secretary got his list of suspects together. That woman is even more of an insufferable cunt than I was expecting. She's absolutely complicit in this madness. Ritual abuse and appeasement, probably in exchange for money. But we'll see. Haven't seen any cameras so far, so that's good and bad news. I can use it, at least.

Shinji checked his watch. Finding it was about fifteen minutes after two, he left the interview room and made his way to the gymnasium. Let's see. If I remember correctly from the blueprints, the fastest way into the girls' locker room is through here…

He took a moment to check the gym and found the girls inside, doing exercises. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he opened the locker room door and took a quick sweep of the room. Seeing no one inside, he walked in like he was supposed to be there. Back left, bottom.

Finding the locker in question, he found a padlock on it. His auto-pick cracked it in all of three seconds and he was in. Checking the backpack he found inside, he grinned as he found papers with the girl's name on it. Jackpot. Now, where's that phone?

The phone had been tucked away in one of the backpack pockets and it was the work of a few seconds to plug the data dog in, tell it to copy, let it run, then put everything back where he'd found it. After that, he left the locker room and made his way back to his borrowed empty classroom. Alright, let's see what we've got.

Plugging the cracking tool into his laptop, he transferred the data over and started going over it.

About what I expected on contacts. Emma and Sophia, a bunch of classmates, and her family. Now, text logs. Sort this by date…

Shinji hummed as the program he was using worked, before spitting out results—a calendar view with text conversations sorted by day. Going back a ways, he raised an eyebrow at the immediate pattern. So she starts school a year and a half ago and a little less than a month later, volume in texts spike. A lot. And it just grows over time, to today. Before that, a few friends when she was in middle school and a fairly consistent volume of texts back to when the records start.

Having an idea of where to start looking, he began speed reading through individual conversations. A lot of it was typical teenager garbage that he skipped over. Short text responses—a whole lot of lol's, lmao's, and emojis. Before too long however, he struck pay dirt. A conversation between Madison, Emma, and Sophia discussing how they were going to 'destroy Hebert.' Emma suggesting that they start spreading rumors and Madison agreeing. Sophia suggesting she just 'push the bitch down the stairs.' Emma wanting to get into deep emotional damage by telling everyone about how Taylor cried after her mom died.

Shinji sighed, leaning over his laptop and resting his head in his hand. 'Your mom died and you came crying to me about it. I'll tell the school and everyone will make fun of you for being sad that your mom died.' What kind of heartless, sociopathic shit wouldn't be upset at a parent dying? Fuck sake, mom and dad here weren't my first parents and I still cried when they died, because family is more than blood. And this little cunt… Christ.

From there, the volume of texts and number of conversations increased as the girls apparently put together their own little 'fuck over Taylor' mean girls brigade and coordinated how they were going to go after her. What rumors to spread and to whom, what teachers to talk to and what to say (Gladly for one, and how if the cuter girls paid him attention he would ignore Taylor) to gaslight her, a slowly escalating campaign of sabotaging Taylor's academic career, vandalization, destruction of property, harassment via email and in person, assault, and more.

Even better, he supposed, was that cell phones—while not quite as ubiquitous as they were back on his old Earth—had cameras and kids were mean, petty, and stupid enough to record a bunch of shit. Madison had more than one recording of Taylor being bullied in various ways. From her and other girls pouring drinks in Taylor's seat, bag, or on her directly, to girls surrounding her in the hall and calling her names while refusing to let her leave and shoving her if she tried to move out of their circle, destroying her clothes in gym class, even destroying her homework and occasionally tests.

God I love the digital age. This shit makes my job so much easier.

Then, of course, was the big one. The Locker Incident. Unfortunately, there was actually surprisingly little on that. Emma and Sophia bragging that they had a huge surprise planned, but nothing beyond that, aside from a text from Emma telling Madison to get her camera ready on the morning of. There was, however, a video. A video that clearly showed Sophia Hess shoving Taylor Hebert into a locker full of filth, closing it, and locking it behind her while other students looked on and laughed, catcalled, whistled, and clapped. The video quality wasn't great, but it was better than 'potato.' Good enough that he could pick out individual faces. Other students who had their cameras out.

Students whom he had photos of from the school and could put names to faces. Which Shinji did, making notes of exactly who was where and doing what as he saved a few stills from the video, made copies, broke out the image editor, and began circling faces, phones, and then writing out names to faces above their heads.

And in the background of it all? Gladly. Barely visible when the camera panned away when someone said there was a teacher looking. The video did show him look, then deliberately turn away and walk back into his class.

Your asses are mine now and we're all out of lube for the fucking this school is about to get.

A vicious grin spread across Shinji's face. Checking the time, he saw it was just before school ended. Humming, he began packing up his things as he considered his next move.

He had evidence now—a place to work from. But it was obtained without a search warrant and thus inadmissible in court.

That's fine though. It's a starting point and I can work backwards from here. So, focus in on Gladly and Madison, then go after digital records. If I go after him first, without solid, admissible evidence, he could squeal and people will start deleting things if they haven't already. Need to hit him hard and fast, with something he can't fucking deny. Then I need a warrant to pull the servers and have the techies go over everything—and a whole bunch of other warrants to pull cell phones and start getting data there too. I just need one domino to fall into place before I can move on all of it.

Madison. You are the weakest link. Let's apply pressure and see what happens.

Taylor panted, her face red where Shinji pressed her into the carpeted floor of her living room, his knee planted in her back.

"Did you see how I did that?" he asked, easing off of her and helping her to her feet.

"No! I didn't see anything. You were all… whoopah! then I was eating carpet."

The man chuckled, nodding. "Alright. Grab my collar." Taylor nodded and moved forward, grabbing his collar.

At 6'2, Shinji was well above average height—especially for a Japanese man. Taylor's 5'8 frame was lanky and thin, but she was average height for an adult man, let alone a woman. She was not a small girl, when she wasn't hunched in on herself. It gave her a significant reach advantage over her peers, if she would just learn to use it. Which Shinji was trying to teach her now.

"Watch my footing," he instructed, and she nodded, watching as he lowered his center of gravity and spread his feet, as he reached up and grabbed her arm. "Alright. The rest is all about using your opponent's body against them. Turning their own weight and momentum against them. Which is about half of martial arts. You aren't trying to combat their force with your force, usually—you're trying to turn their own force against them. Pop quiz. What's the third law of motion?"

"Newton's third law?" she asked, and he nodded. "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction."

"Right. So if you and your opponent are equally matched in strength and you shove each other, nothing much is going to happen. But if, instead of pushing, you pull… you're adding force and directing where it goes. Much of martial arts is just learning how to use your body and your opponent's body as a lever to apply force how you want it. Like so." He slid his left foot back slowly as he pulled her arm, throwing her over his hip and supporting her weight to keep her from slamming into the ground. Once she was down, he came down as well and planted his knee in her chest. "Feel where my knee is?"

"Y-yeah," she nodded.

"That's the solar plexus. If the throw didn't wind them, coming down like I did right there and putting your weight into it will. They aren't going to want to do anything but curl up and hold their chest, as instincts tell them to protect vital organs. This is where you roll them over," he did so quickly, "pull their arm up behind their back," he followed through by demonstrating, "then pull it up until they howl. You feel how hard it is to move like this?"

"Yeah. It's really uncomfortable."

"That's the point. This is going to hurt a bit. Let me know when it gets to be too much."

Taylor winced as he pulled her arm slowly up before finally hissing. "Too much!"

Shinji let off on the pressure. "It doesn't take much, as you can see. And once you have someone in this position, they aren't going anywhere you don't want them to, without risking hurting themselves. Most people can't or won't fight through the pain to get you off of them. From here? That's where zip ties come in. I bought you a pack. Carry them with you. Grab their other hand, pull it up, then zip their wrists together. Then the ankles."

Once more, Shinji put actions to words and pulled out a zip tie of his own and zipped her wrists together. "These are heavy-duty, 12mm, 250lb zip ties. You aren't getting out of this without a knife. Go ahead, give it a try."

Taylor flexed her arms and wrists, twisting them this way and that for a few moments, before huffing and giving up. "Can I get up?"

"Sure," Shinji agreed. Pulling out his multi-tool, he cut the tie and helped her back up. "Wrists are best, but you can zip their thumbs together if you have to because their arms won't reach that far. If you need to, you can use multiple ties, but I don't recommend it—makes it easier to break them."

"What do I do if there's more than one of them? Or if they have me surrounded?" the girl asked.

"Alright, stand in front of me," Shinji instructed. "Act like you're trying to pen me in." He tried to move forward and she reached out and shoved him back. She wasn't very strong, but this was a demonstration, so Shinji let her rock him backwards. "Now, let's try it again. Your first option. Shove me again." He moved forward and she reached out to push. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in, before stepping around her, effectively trading places. "See what I did there?"

Taylor hummed as she considered it for a moment. "You used my weight and motion against me?"

"Exactly. Now, pick a method and you try. Either trade places or throw me." He reached out and made to grab her by the collar of her over-sized gray hoodie. Biting her lip nervously, Taylor grabbed his arm, slid back half a step and tried to rotate her hips. Shinji stumbled, but didn't fall. "Close. Give it a bit more oompf next time. And roll your hip as you pull, while planting your forward foot. Weight on your front foot, pull, transition weight to your back foot."

It took a few more tries, but eventually, Taylor put him on the floor. The girl beamed a smile, green eyes wide as she looked down into Shinji's blue. He didn't want to burst her bubble—kids were sensitive to criticism, especially girls. So, instead of telling her what she'd done wrong, he instead asked, "Are you forgetting something?"

"Oh!" Taylor nodded and brought her knee down into his chest, grabbing his hands with her own, lacing their fingers together.

"Good job. But don't do that," he shook his head, before squeezing her fingers. Taylor quickly let go and he continued, "Grab the wrists, not the fingers."

"Right."

Shinji's watch beeped and he pushed at her knee. "Alright, let me up. I need to head home and then go out and question a couple of people."

Taylor got off of him, looking curious as she asked, "You're working overtime?"

"Job isn't done until it's done," Shinji shrugged, rolling to his feet. "I don't mind pulling some extra time for it, and there are some people I can't really talk to during school hours."

Taylor stared at him for a moment before looking away. "Thank you. For everything."

Reaching out, Shinji patted her shoulder. "It'll get better soon. I promise."

"Mm."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow."

They said their goodbyes and Shinji headed home to eat and get cleaned up.

Sitting in his car in a fresh suit, Shinji debated with himself over who to reach out to tonight. On the one hand, he wanted to get a move on with Madison Clements—push that domino over to knock down the rest. On the other hand, if he got in touch with Amy Dallon and could get her to answer a few questions and make a few sworn statements, then he'd have more leverage. More evidence to bury the school and everyone involved under.

In the end, he decided that having all of his ducks in a row was the best move. So, he looked up the Dallons' address and drove over.

Parking behind the small car in the driveway, he made his way up to the front door and knocked. A moment later, the door cracked open and a surly looking blonde woman peered out at him from through the crack in the door. "Yes?"

Shinji took out his badge and ID, holding it up for her to see. "Mrs. Dallon? Detective Kusanagi, BBPD."

Raising an eyebrow, she opened the door a bit wider, and he saw she was dressed in a set of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She was a bit red and sweaty—apparently, he caught her in the middle of her own evening exercise routine. Despite being a mother in her 30s, Carol was a good looking woman and Shinji had to fight to keep his eyes from wandering below her face.

"How can I help you, Detective?"

"Well, if she's got a few minutes, I need to ask your daughter some questions."

Frowning, Carol asked, "Vicky?"

"No ma'am. Amy." At her look that said 'get on with it,' he explained. "There was an incident at Winslow High when school started up again after the break, on the third. It was bad. Bad enough to warrant calling in Panacea, in fact. I'm building a case against the school, faculty, and some students for negligence and several other charges and I'd like to get any details I can from her."

Crossing her arms under her breasts, she leaned against the door frame, a frown pulling her lips down. "Can you share any of the details? Call it professional curiosity."

"As a cape or as a lawyer?"

The woman's lips twitched upwards. "Yes."

"Short version? A girl was shoved into a locker full of used feminine hygiene products that had been left to fester over the break," Carol made a disgusted face, "and was shut in there for hours, until the janitor got her out. She injured herself in her attempts to get out and it was bad enough that your daughter was required to come fix it—so I want to know just how bad. Everything I've seen says it's an extreme case of bullying, but depending on your daughter's testimony, that could escalate to a case of attempted murder. Either way, the faculty should've stepped in a long time ago, well before it got to this point, but for some reason they didn't. The family doesn't really have the money to fight any kind of protracted legal battle and one of the prime suspects has family ties to a lawyer who would presumably handle it for free. So, I'm hoping to gather enough evidence that it's a slam dunk case against the school—so much so that even without a lawyer the girl's father could represent himself and bury the school under it."

"Mm. I see," she murmured. Studying him for a moment, she nodded. "Wait here."

Shinji waited while she went back into the house. Carol returned a few moments later, writing out something on the back of a business card. When she finished writing, she offered the card to him. "I like a feel-good, pro-bono case every now and then, so you've got my interest. That's my private number, if you wouldn't mind passing it along to them. As for Amy, she's at Brockton General doing some volunteer work tonight. If you'll give me your number, I'll text her and let her know to expect you."

"Thanks. I'll see that it gets to them," Shinji nodded, then told her the number from memory.

With that, they parted ways and Shinji took off for the hospital. Halfway there, his phone chimed a text alert. He pulled it out and gave it a read.

Unknown Number: this is Panacea. is this the detective my mom talked to

Shinji: Yes.

Panacea: when do you want to do this?

Shinji: On my way to the hospital now if you have time.

Panacea: kk will be on the roof

Shinji tucked away his phone. Didn't have to go through Crystal after all. That's good news.