(no subject)
Title: The Best Intentions.
Author: Iby.
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance.
Characters and Pairings: The Tenth Doctor, Rose, Martha and Donna; Rose/Ten.
Rating: G.
Author's Note: For once, something not drenched in fluff. Post reunion, in which Ten, Rose, Donna and Martha all travel together.
Summary: Trying to keep Rose safe and out of trouble, the Doctor ends up hurting her deeply, possibly irreparably. Can he repair the damage and convince her to stay?
With a deep breath that she almost choked on, Rose tried to push down her hysteria and melt away into the crowd. She hated crying in front of strangers and the last thing she needed to do was draw attention to herself.
She was so focused on not crying, not remembering and not making a scene, that she didn’t notice that the crowd had thinned around her until the ground beneath her feet became dirt instead of concrete. She’d reached the outskirts of the city; the decrepit buildings to her left and right spoke volumes on the financial status of their inhabitants.
Memory flashed through her. I suppose this is where I belong. With a deep, bracing breath, she pushed such thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t going to be self-indulgent, wasn’t going to wallow.
Two little girls, both interesting shades of purple, ran out onto the street in front of her chasing a spiky ball. On the corner up ahead, an old man was sat down at a stool, playing something that oddly resembled a guitar. The wind picked up the tune and carried it through the many open windows of the buildings around them. No air-conditioning.
The girls skipped their way to the man and, hands clasped, began to dance around in front of him.
Rose felt like she’d slipped into the pages of A Streetcar Named Desire.
Sighing, she turned to look behind her. Giant skyscrapers pierced the sky, impossibly tall and impressive. They glinted in the evening suns, their angles and glass edges ablaze, golden and beautiful. The slightly rotted but carefully tended to roofs by her side framed the bottom of her view, just skimming along the towers’ lower levels. A stark contrast.
It reminded her of her old home, the old flat, from which one could glimpse the beauty of the city.
She’d come so far, too far, to be ashamed of her past. She was a traveller in time and space. The fact that this was all facilitated by the person who’d made her feel so awful tainted the shine slightly.
Everything had been going swimmingly the past few months. Initial hesitation and jealousy had given way to friendship; yes, she considered Martha Jones and Donna Noble her friends. Three very different women, all united by a sense of adventure. Even Donna, though sometimes grumbly, was always eager to see what lay beyond the TARDIS doors.
She couldn’t understand why he’d said what he’d said.
We don’t need you! Stay there!
Shutting her eyes against the words, though it did little to actually control her thoughts, Rose felt the hysteria rise again. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Some finished their unhappy journey by dripping off the curve of her jaw and onto her shirt, but others clung to her skin and rolled down her neck. Angrily, she pushed them away. Good thing she’s started laying off on the mascara.
When Rose opened her eyes again, the two purple girls were in front of her, looking up at her imploringly. Rose never ceased to be amazed at how different places could be. Some poor areas were harsh, dangerous, where everybody watched only their own back. In others, the sense of community, of helping others, was so strong.
“Are you alright, miss?’
Blinking owlishly to clear her eyes, Rose smiled at them. “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. I’m Rose.” She held her hand out but quickly remembered that it might not be the local custom.
The girls looked delighted. “You’re from Earth!” They enthusiastically shook her hand.
Rose nodded and chuckled at their excitement. “Yeah, how can you tell?”
The taller of the girls beamed at her. “Earthlings love to shake hands. We know, because Tally’s,” she pointed at the girl beside her, “mum works at the space port. She sees all sorts of people come through. Oh, I’m Bess, by the way.” All of this was said very quickly, as was the way of young children the universe over.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Rose said around a grin. “So, your mum works at the space port! That must be exciting?”
Tally nodded, somewhat hesitantly. “She works in Baxter’s Diner. She’s a bartri…baristra…er, she makes coffee.” She looked up at Rose, as if hoping this was ok.
Rose smiled. “Coffee, it makes the world go around, eh?”
Tally looked immensely pleased by her response. “So, are you looking for the space port, then, if you’re not from around here?”
Rose was about to reply that no, she was here with friends, when she stopped, the words on the tip of her tongue.
You can’t help us!
There was no hysteria. No anger. No tears. She fingered the credit stick in her pocket. Just to get me going, and then I’ll ditch it. Breathing in deeply, she squared her shoulders. “Yes, I am.”
. . . .
Worriedly, Martha looked at Donna; only to have a similar look thrown back at her. They were practically jogging to keep up with the Doctor, who was cutting a determined path through the crowd. Following in his wake seemed the only way to actually move.
“Try again,” Martha mouthed, nodding at the Doctor.
Donna shook her head and nearly tripped when someone going in the opposite direction cut into her path. Martha grabbed her arm and righted her, tugging her closer. “Try again,” this time she whispered. “I think you were getting to him.” They’d discovered it was best to keep their conversation quiet, so that the Doctor didn’t hear.
“It’s no bloody good. He’s so stubborn, the git.”
Martha nodded ruefully. “I know.” She looked at the Doctor to make sure he wasn’t listening before continuing. “I can’t believe he said all that to her.”
Donna glared holes into the Doctor’s back before sniffing and turning to the woman beside her. “What’s that smell? You smell funny.”
Martha sighed, but she was so used to Donna that she wasn’t at all offended. “Gasoline. You know, from the chemical cocktail we just whipped together as part of the distraction. Spilt some on my sleeve.”
Donna snorted. “Wasn’t particularly bright of you. Surprised you made it out of there alive, what with all that fire everywhere.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Come on, this is useless! We need to find her!” Resolutely, she stopped walking and grabbed Donna’s arm, stopping her also. “Doctor. Stop!” She yelled so loudly that the crowd skittered away from them, giving them a little space. “We need to look for her!” She crossed her arms and Donna followed suit.
Frantically, the Doctor span around to face them. His hair defied each and every one of the gravities that affected the planet they were on. He ran his hands through it again for good measure. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m looking! I’m looking for her! I can’t find her! Especially with this,” he whipped out half of his sonic screwdriver, “snapped in two!”
“We need to get to the TARDIS then,” Donna offered. She tried to smile comfortingly at him. “That way, we’ll find her in no time.”
“No,” the Doctor shook his head. “I just need to find a terminal. Even without the sonic screwdriver, I can hack into the city’s security feeds and orchestrate a search for Rose.”
For a second, Martha’s gaze landed on a small purple girl who was watching them with interest, but she quickly returned her attention to their argument. “What if Rose isn’t in the city? What if she’s in the poor district? No cameras there!”
Donna was about to add to this when she felt something tug on her sleeve. Whipping around, thinking she was being robbed, she was surprised to find a small girl hovering around her elbow, looking up at her.
“Did you say you were looking for Rose?” the little girl asked.
The Doctor practically pounced on the girl, bombarding her with questions and Donna had to physically push him back. “Relax. Not everybody likes having their personal bubble invaded. So,” she turned to the girl, “have you see Rose? Pretty? Wearing a Union Jack t-shirt, god knows why.”
Martha, feeling that a rant was imminent, hastily began to speak. “She’s human, white, blonde, about my height. Do you know where she is?”
The little girl nodded. “Yeah, we gave her directions for the space port. She’s on flight 102 to the fourth moon of Prax.”
At this, the Doctor dashed off, Martha and Donna in tow.
. . . .
A tad amused, Rose held out her wrist for the guard to inspect. Apparently, hidden pockets on ones’ arm for carrying illicit goods were all the rage. She had just been about to drop her arm to her side, upon the guard’s nod of approval, when she heard him.
“Rose!”
She jumped, so obviously that pretending she hadn’t heard him wasn’t an option.
“Rose! Please! Wait!”
The last time he’d yelled at her, he hadn’t been nearly as polite.
We don’t need you! Stay there! What’re you going to do? You don’t know a thing about chemistry, probably never took it in school. Get back to the TARDIS, you can’t help us! You can’t help!
With his customary flair, he vaulted over the barrier that separated the queue she was in from the general crowds. The guard didn’t appreciate this one jot.
“Get out!” he thundered. “This is a restricted area, for ticket holders only.”
The Doctor whipped out the psychic paper and Rose didn’t fail to notice that its leather pouch was slightly singed. “No! See, that’s me, I’m a ticket holder! See!” He stuck the paper in front of the guard’s face.
“Brilliant,” the guard drawled, “but do you see them?” He pointed at the queue, which was collectively glaring at the Doctor. “They’re ticket holders too.”
The Doctor dropped his hand to his side. “Would it be too late to change my ticket to first class?” He smiled winningly.
The guard was having none of it. “Out!”
Faced with expulsion, the Doctor turned to Rose. “Rose, please, come with me. Come on, just give me a minute. If you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll get you a first class ticket and you can skip the queue, eh?”
Rose turned to look at the terminal lounges that lay beyond, then back to him, his hand outstretched. Her gaze caught on Martha and Donna, who had run into view. They saw her and waved, smiling, and their happiness at seeing her softened her resolve to leave.
“Yeah, yeah, alright.”
. . . .
The Doctor flopped down onto one of the soft, orange couches that littered the arrivals area, but when Rose didn’t follow he hastily stood back up. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
Rose, resolved to not let him see how hurt she was, looked him straight in the eye. “What do you want?”
He looked right back at her. “I want to apologize.”
His swiftness at getting to his point, especially considering what that point was, startled her. “I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t need you to apologize.”
The Doctor nodded, sadly. “Yes, I know. Still, I wanted to all the same.”
Rose didn’t reply.
“But!” the Doctor exclaimed, “this isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want. Which is, I’m guessing, to know if I believe what I said. About you. If I believe what I said about you.”
The tension that Rose had coiled tightly inside her chest wound a little tighter. Internally, she struggled; keep pretending that she wasn’t affected, or ask for the truth. In the end, he didn’t give her a choice.
“No. No. Absolutely not, not at all,” he spoke with such vehemence that she looked him, properly looked at him and saw more than just his eyes, but the person behind them. “No. I don’t believe we don’t need you. I don’t believe you can’t help us. You help me in more ways than I think you realize.” He drew in a deep breath. “Not to mention the fact that I need you so much it’s bordering on the ridiculous.”
It would have been so easy, so incredibly easy, to melt at his words, but her hurt was so deep. Still though, she gathered the courage to question him.
“What about the fact that I know nothing about chemistry?” She tried to make it sound like a joke, but in all honesty, it wasn’t. She’d never seriously compared herself to her companions, because she’d thought before now that the Doctor hadn’t either. Now though, she felt the weight of the fact that she wasn’t a Doctor like Martha and she hadn’t lived in a working environment like Donna. She’d gone from retail to the universe, and skipped everything in between.
“That’s not lack of ability, Rose, that’s lack of exposure. You’ve got the smarts, and even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You've got the heart.” He reached forward and tucked a stray few strands of hair behind her ear.
She leant into him, before scrabbling away in confusion. “Then why? Why did you say those things?”
“Because!” The Doctor fairly exploded, before calming himself down with a few steady, deep breaths. “Because. I wanted to keep you safe. So far, everything we’ve done since you’ve gotten back has been a doddle, but this was serious, Rose. This was life and death, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t…”
She knew he didn’t want to finish his sentence and, armed with knowing what it was he wanted to say, she stepped towards him. She wanted to tell him that she understood, but she chose instead to slip her hand in his. “Ok.”
He gripped her hand tightly. “Ok?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Never again though, ok? We’re going to find death and danger and destruction, and even though I want you looking out for me, just like I’d look out for you, there’re still things that need to be done, people that need to be saved. I can make myself useful, but you have to let me. You can’t shield me, and you can’t hurt me to keep me away. Not again.”
He blinked, taking all this in, taking in the warning in her final words, before nodding slowly. “Can I hug you?” He was so quiet, so hesitant in his request that she felt her heart swell.
“Yeah, you can hug me.”
He wrapped his arms around her, gently, slowly, much more carefully than he normally would. Feeling that is was her turn to offer him something, she squashed him to her so fiercely that they toppled over onto the couch.
A few passers-by stared at them oddly, but they were so wrapped up in each other that they barely noticed.
. . . .
Does it seem in character to you? I'm a little out of practice at writing fights, spending as much time as I do in the land of fluff.
Anyway, I hope you liked it!
Author: Iby.
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance.
Characters and Pairings: The Tenth Doctor, Rose, Martha and Donna; Rose/Ten.
Rating: G.
Author's Note: For once, something not drenched in fluff. Post reunion, in which Ten, Rose, Donna and Martha all travel together.
Summary: Trying to keep Rose safe and out of trouble, the Doctor ends up hurting her deeply, possibly irreparably. Can he repair the damage and convince her to stay?
With a deep breath that she almost choked on, Rose tried to push down her hysteria and melt away into the crowd. She hated crying in front of strangers and the last thing she needed to do was draw attention to herself.
She was so focused on not crying, not remembering and not making a scene, that she didn’t notice that the crowd had thinned around her until the ground beneath her feet became dirt instead of concrete. She’d reached the outskirts of the city; the decrepit buildings to her left and right spoke volumes on the financial status of their inhabitants.
Memory flashed through her. I suppose this is where I belong. With a deep, bracing breath, she pushed such thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t going to be self-indulgent, wasn’t going to wallow.
Two little girls, both interesting shades of purple, ran out onto the street in front of her chasing a spiky ball. On the corner up ahead, an old man was sat down at a stool, playing something that oddly resembled a guitar. The wind picked up the tune and carried it through the many open windows of the buildings around them. No air-conditioning.
The girls skipped their way to the man and, hands clasped, began to dance around in front of him.
Rose felt like she’d slipped into the pages of A Streetcar Named Desire.
Sighing, she turned to look behind her. Giant skyscrapers pierced the sky, impossibly tall and impressive. They glinted in the evening suns, their angles and glass edges ablaze, golden and beautiful. The slightly rotted but carefully tended to roofs by her side framed the bottom of her view, just skimming along the towers’ lower levels. A stark contrast.
It reminded her of her old home, the old flat, from which one could glimpse the beauty of the city.
She’d come so far, too far, to be ashamed of her past. She was a traveller in time and space. The fact that this was all facilitated by the person who’d made her feel so awful tainted the shine slightly.
Everything had been going swimmingly the past few months. Initial hesitation and jealousy had given way to friendship; yes, she considered Martha Jones and Donna Noble her friends. Three very different women, all united by a sense of adventure. Even Donna, though sometimes grumbly, was always eager to see what lay beyond the TARDIS doors.
She couldn’t understand why he’d said what he’d said.
We don’t need you! Stay there!
Shutting her eyes against the words, though it did little to actually control her thoughts, Rose felt the hysteria rise again. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Some finished their unhappy journey by dripping off the curve of her jaw and onto her shirt, but others clung to her skin and rolled down her neck. Angrily, she pushed them away. Good thing she’s started laying off on the mascara.
When Rose opened her eyes again, the two purple girls were in front of her, looking up at her imploringly. Rose never ceased to be amazed at how different places could be. Some poor areas were harsh, dangerous, where everybody watched only their own back. In others, the sense of community, of helping others, was so strong.
“Are you alright, miss?’
Blinking owlishly to clear her eyes, Rose smiled at them. “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. I’m Rose.” She held her hand out but quickly remembered that it might not be the local custom.
The girls looked delighted. “You’re from Earth!” They enthusiastically shook her hand.
Rose nodded and chuckled at their excitement. “Yeah, how can you tell?”
The taller of the girls beamed at her. “Earthlings love to shake hands. We know, because Tally’s,” she pointed at the girl beside her, “mum works at the space port. She sees all sorts of people come through. Oh, I’m Bess, by the way.” All of this was said very quickly, as was the way of young children the universe over.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Rose said around a grin. “So, your mum works at the space port! That must be exciting?”
Tally nodded, somewhat hesitantly. “She works in Baxter’s Diner. She’s a bartri…baristra…er, she makes coffee.” She looked up at Rose, as if hoping this was ok.
Rose smiled. “Coffee, it makes the world go around, eh?”
Tally looked immensely pleased by her response. “So, are you looking for the space port, then, if you’re not from around here?”
Rose was about to reply that no, she was here with friends, when she stopped, the words on the tip of her tongue.
You can’t help us!
There was no hysteria. No anger. No tears. She fingered the credit stick in her pocket. Just to get me going, and then I’ll ditch it. Breathing in deeply, she squared her shoulders. “Yes, I am.”
. . . .
Worriedly, Martha looked at Donna; only to have a similar look thrown back at her. They were practically jogging to keep up with the Doctor, who was cutting a determined path through the crowd. Following in his wake seemed the only way to actually move.
“Try again,” Martha mouthed, nodding at the Doctor.
Donna shook her head and nearly tripped when someone going in the opposite direction cut into her path. Martha grabbed her arm and righted her, tugging her closer. “Try again,” this time she whispered. “I think you were getting to him.” They’d discovered it was best to keep their conversation quiet, so that the Doctor didn’t hear.
“It’s no bloody good. He’s so stubborn, the git.”
Martha nodded ruefully. “I know.” She looked at the Doctor to make sure he wasn’t listening before continuing. “I can’t believe he said all that to her.”
Donna glared holes into the Doctor’s back before sniffing and turning to the woman beside her. “What’s that smell? You smell funny.”
Martha sighed, but she was so used to Donna that she wasn’t at all offended. “Gasoline. You know, from the chemical cocktail we just whipped together as part of the distraction. Spilt some on my sleeve.”
Donna snorted. “Wasn’t particularly bright of you. Surprised you made it out of there alive, what with all that fire everywhere.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Come on, this is useless! We need to find her!” Resolutely, she stopped walking and grabbed Donna’s arm, stopping her also. “Doctor. Stop!” She yelled so loudly that the crowd skittered away from them, giving them a little space. “We need to look for her!” She crossed her arms and Donna followed suit.
Frantically, the Doctor span around to face them. His hair defied each and every one of the gravities that affected the planet they were on. He ran his hands through it again for good measure. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m looking! I’m looking for her! I can’t find her! Especially with this,” he whipped out half of his sonic screwdriver, “snapped in two!”
“We need to get to the TARDIS then,” Donna offered. She tried to smile comfortingly at him. “That way, we’ll find her in no time.”
“No,” the Doctor shook his head. “I just need to find a terminal. Even without the sonic screwdriver, I can hack into the city’s security feeds and orchestrate a search for Rose.”
For a second, Martha’s gaze landed on a small purple girl who was watching them with interest, but she quickly returned her attention to their argument. “What if Rose isn’t in the city? What if she’s in the poor district? No cameras there!”
Donna was about to add to this when she felt something tug on her sleeve. Whipping around, thinking she was being robbed, she was surprised to find a small girl hovering around her elbow, looking up at her.
“Did you say you were looking for Rose?” the little girl asked.
The Doctor practically pounced on the girl, bombarding her with questions and Donna had to physically push him back. “Relax. Not everybody likes having their personal bubble invaded. So,” she turned to the girl, “have you see Rose? Pretty? Wearing a Union Jack t-shirt, god knows why.”
Martha, feeling that a rant was imminent, hastily began to speak. “She’s human, white, blonde, about my height. Do you know where she is?”
The little girl nodded. “Yeah, we gave her directions for the space port. She’s on flight 102 to the fourth moon of Prax.”
At this, the Doctor dashed off, Martha and Donna in tow.
. . . .
A tad amused, Rose held out her wrist for the guard to inspect. Apparently, hidden pockets on ones’ arm for carrying illicit goods were all the rage. She had just been about to drop her arm to her side, upon the guard’s nod of approval, when she heard him.
“Rose!”
She jumped, so obviously that pretending she hadn’t heard him wasn’t an option.
“Rose! Please! Wait!”
The last time he’d yelled at her, he hadn’t been nearly as polite.
We don’t need you! Stay there! What’re you going to do? You don’t know a thing about chemistry, probably never took it in school. Get back to the TARDIS, you can’t help us! You can’t help!
With his customary flair, he vaulted over the barrier that separated the queue she was in from the general crowds. The guard didn’t appreciate this one jot.
“Get out!” he thundered. “This is a restricted area, for ticket holders only.”
The Doctor whipped out the psychic paper and Rose didn’t fail to notice that its leather pouch was slightly singed. “No! See, that’s me, I’m a ticket holder! See!” He stuck the paper in front of the guard’s face.
“Brilliant,” the guard drawled, “but do you see them?” He pointed at the queue, which was collectively glaring at the Doctor. “They’re ticket holders too.”
The Doctor dropped his hand to his side. “Would it be too late to change my ticket to first class?” He smiled winningly.
The guard was having none of it. “Out!”
Faced with expulsion, the Doctor turned to Rose. “Rose, please, come with me. Come on, just give me a minute. If you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll get you a first class ticket and you can skip the queue, eh?”
Rose turned to look at the terminal lounges that lay beyond, then back to him, his hand outstretched. Her gaze caught on Martha and Donna, who had run into view. They saw her and waved, smiling, and their happiness at seeing her softened her resolve to leave.
“Yeah, yeah, alright.”
. . . .
The Doctor flopped down onto one of the soft, orange couches that littered the arrivals area, but when Rose didn’t follow he hastily stood back up. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
Rose, resolved to not let him see how hurt she was, looked him straight in the eye. “What do you want?”
He looked right back at her. “I want to apologize.”
His swiftness at getting to his point, especially considering what that point was, startled her. “I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t need you to apologize.”
The Doctor nodded, sadly. “Yes, I know. Still, I wanted to all the same.”
Rose didn’t reply.
“But!” the Doctor exclaimed, “this isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want. Which is, I’m guessing, to know if I believe what I said. About you. If I believe what I said about you.”
The tension that Rose had coiled tightly inside her chest wound a little tighter. Internally, she struggled; keep pretending that she wasn’t affected, or ask for the truth. In the end, he didn’t give her a choice.
“No. No. Absolutely not, not at all,” he spoke with such vehemence that she looked him, properly looked at him and saw more than just his eyes, but the person behind them. “No. I don’t believe we don’t need you. I don’t believe you can’t help us. You help me in more ways than I think you realize.” He drew in a deep breath. “Not to mention the fact that I need you so much it’s bordering on the ridiculous.”
It would have been so easy, so incredibly easy, to melt at his words, but her hurt was so deep. Still though, she gathered the courage to question him.
“What about the fact that I know nothing about chemistry?” She tried to make it sound like a joke, but in all honesty, it wasn’t. She’d never seriously compared herself to her companions, because she’d thought before now that the Doctor hadn’t either. Now though, she felt the weight of the fact that she wasn’t a Doctor like Martha and she hadn’t lived in a working environment like Donna. She’d gone from retail to the universe, and skipped everything in between.
“That’s not lack of ability, Rose, that’s lack of exposure. You’ve got the smarts, and even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You've got the heart.” He reached forward and tucked a stray few strands of hair behind her ear.
She leant into him, before scrabbling away in confusion. “Then why? Why did you say those things?”
“Because!” The Doctor fairly exploded, before calming himself down with a few steady, deep breaths. “Because. I wanted to keep you safe. So far, everything we’ve done since you’ve gotten back has been a doddle, but this was serious, Rose. This was life and death, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t…”
She knew he didn’t want to finish his sentence and, armed with knowing what it was he wanted to say, she stepped towards him. She wanted to tell him that she understood, but she chose instead to slip her hand in his. “Ok.”
He gripped her hand tightly. “Ok?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Never again though, ok? We’re going to find death and danger and destruction, and even though I want you looking out for me, just like I’d look out for you, there’re still things that need to be done, people that need to be saved. I can make myself useful, but you have to let me. You can’t shield me, and you can’t hurt me to keep me away. Not again.”
He blinked, taking all this in, taking in the warning in her final words, before nodding slowly. “Can I hug you?” He was so quiet, so hesitant in his request that she felt her heart swell.
“Yeah, you can hug me.”
He wrapped his arms around her, gently, slowly, much more carefully than he normally would. Feeling that is was her turn to offer him something, she squashed him to her so fiercely that they toppled over onto the couch.
A few passers-by stared at them oddly, but they were so wrapped up in each other that they barely noticed.
. . . .
Does it seem in character to you? I'm a little out of practice at writing fights, spending as much time as I do in the land of fluff.
Anyway, I hope you liked it!