fic: Back Home [Pt.3]
TITLE: Back Home - Pt. 3
AUTHOR: renisanz
SUMMARY: Settling down won't be easy for either of them. Ronon/Keller.
CATEGORY: romance/drama
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 2,375
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.
NOTES: This chapter is quite a bit longer than the others. There was a lot to say. Enjoy. :)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Back Home - Pt. 2
Jennifer entered the lab to see Dr. Marc Pedersen peering into a microscope. He was stationed on the opposite side of her work area. After dinner, she had decided to stop by the lab to check on his progress before heading, thankfully, to bed.
“Find anything new-“
She stopped mid-sentence as he jumped, startling her in turn.
So it wasn't so hard to sneak up on people after all, she mused. “I'm so sorry,” she said, smiling a bit to break the tension. She slid onto her stool across from him.
He shyly ran a hair through his shaggy, dark brown hair. He slid a pair of black-rimmed glasses onto his face (Jennifer thought they gave him a slight emo look) and then regarded her. “I've made a bit of progress,” he began. To Jennifer he looked as though he was trying to contain his excitement.
However, she couldn't get past the emo thing. She didn't realized she was staring until he asked, “What?”
Her eyes widened as her cheeks flushed. “Nothing, you just-I didn't know you wore glasses,” she finished, lamely.
“Ah,” he smirked, lifting an eyebrow in dubiety. “I'm on my last pair of contacts. I put off requesting new ones in time for the next supply shipment, so it's gonna be a while,” he sighed. “I think they make me look smarter,” he quipped.
Jennifer dimpled at the last comment. “Try pretentious,” she countered.
“Touché,” he allowed, his eyes sparkling in mirth.
She had to admit, the glasses somehow made his blue eyes stand out even more. In person, he looked so much different than the crappy photo in his personnel file. What had stood out to her most was that he was actually around her age (she being one of the youngest people on the expedition), and that had piqued her interest him, apart from his academic attributes. He had most likely skipped a grade or two himself during his formative years, and he had possibly shared some of her experiences in being an outsider, never quite fitting in with her much older peers. Of course, he was quite accomplished in the field of medicine, biochemistry being a specialty of his that was proving advantageous at this moment.
And yet, Jennifer had not gotten to know him until very recently, shortly before she had become pregnant actually. He was cute and she liked his quirky sense of humor . . . but he was no Ronon Dex. Ronon was, well, he was Ronon, and amazing didn't begin to encompass what he had proved to be these past few weeks. That alone put to rest any lingering thoughts she may have had of what-might-have-been-if-only.
Refocusing her attention on the problem at hand she asked, “So what did you find?”
“I think I've isolated one of the compounds in the sample that contributes to fertility. It has a structure very similar to clomid . . . but it works like clomid on crack.”
Jennifer was both amused and slightly frightened by the analogy. Clomid was a fertility drug used to stimulate ovulation. “Wait . . . clomid takes a few weeks to work. I only had the wine and got pregnant the same night.”
“Yes, hence the 'on crack' reference,” Dr. Pedersen nodded. “But this clomid-like substance is only one of the components. They probably all work in tandem to increase fertility. There are still many other factors to consider. Either way, this is an incredible breakthrough. You were right to look into this more. If we could acquire more of this,” he didn't quite know what to call it, “this drug, and find a way to reproduce it . . . It has amazing potential to treat people suffering from infertility.”
“Absolutely,” Jennifer agreed. Still, she knew it wouldn't be that simple. “However, there may be unforeseen side effects. For example, it might have worked differently on me because I'm not a native of the planet, or this galaxy for that matter.” Jennifer's mind was working overtime with all the possibilities. “Maybe that's why I couldn't remember anything,” she mumbled.
“What do you mean?”
Jennifer looked up at Marc and blushed. Had she said that out loud? She figured she might as well tell him, since he had kept her confidence thus far. “The day after me and Ronon . . . yeah. I couldn't remember anything from the night before.”
“But nothing showed up on your tox screen.” He stated. She was glad he kept his tone professional.
“No. Ronon's memory was affected as well. That's why I initially thought he had drugged us.”
“Who's 'he'?” Marc's brow furrowed in ignorance of the situation.
Oh, crap. Jennifer hadn't told Marc the story of her ordeal on Ferra. She figured he knew that it had been bad, but he had never asked her for details, a fact of which she was immensely glad.
Her uncertainty was apparent, for he then said, “It's ok. I didn't mean to pry-“
“No, no,” she interjected, putting a hand up, indicating him to be silent. “I think it's important for you to know all the facts.”
“Alright,” he said in a measured tone.
Jennifer took a deep breath, looking away as she prepared to relay the facts when Marc interrupted, “Wait . . . is there kissing in this story?”
She looked up to see his face scrunched in an expression of faux repulsion. Her mouth hung open for a moment, allowing an astonished laugh to bubble forth. She fought hard against the urge to chuck a nearby test tube at his head. Jennifer supposed she would have to get used to a bit of teasing about her relationship with Ronon. She could pretty much take anything after the exceedingly awkward experience she'd had at dinner.
A rueful smirk was her only reply to his inquiry as she began to recount the fateful events of that night.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Jennifer glanced her watch once again as she waved her hand over the control crystals to open the door to her room. Crap! It was nearly a quarter to ten. She had told Ronon that she would only be a few minutes in the lab, and that was nearly two hours ago. Crap, crap, crap.
Quickly, she stripped off her clothes, leaving a trail behind her on the way to the bathroom.
Wait, why am I freaking out? she wondered as she stepped under the warm spray of the shower. Ronon would understand. She just got carried away a bit in the lab. Ok, maybe she wouldn't use those exact words when explaining her tardiness to him, especially with the wary looks he'd given Marc in the past. But Ronon wasn't really the jealous type, was he? She figured they might have to talk about this very soon. Like, tonight even, if Ronon made it an issue.
Ten minutes later, Jennifer emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing in her wake. She felt refreshed, at least. She crossed the room and sat down at her desk, where her laptop was stationed. She hadn't checked her email all day, and she needed to see if there were any messages that warranted an immediate reply. There were none, thankfully. However, she was slightly disheartened to see that her father had not emailed her today. He had been emailing her every Tuesday for a while now. Well, she still had to tell him about Ronon, so she decided to take tomorrow morning to compose a message breaking him into the news, save for her pregnancy.
She pulled down the towel from her atop her head that held up her mess of damp hair, pulling the terrycloth fabric across the length to dry it. At the same time, she rummaged through her drawers for something to wear to bed. She decided on a pale yellow tank top, and dark green pajama pants with orange, blue and yellow vertical pinstripes. After checking her reflection in the mirror, she decided to put on a dark blue hoodie as much for the protect against the chilly air in the halls as to cover up her growing bump during her walk to Ronon's room.
Jennifer had just pulled the garment over her head when she heard the door chime. She had a pretty good idea of who it was. “Come in,” she called, as she pulled the hoodie down over the small swell of her abdomen.
She turned to see Ronon walk into her room. “Hey,” she smiled. “I was just about to come by.”
He simply nodded. He shifted his weight on his feet in a way Jennifer had come to recognize as a sign that he was nervous, uncertain.
“Is everything ok?” she asked, stepping to him.
“Yeah,” his voice was a whisper. “I just . . . I didn't know if you were sick again or something.”
Oh my . . . he'd been really worried about me, Jennifer realized. “I'm sorry. I just took longer than I thought with Marc at the lab.”
Jennifer caught Ronon's jaw clench at the mention of her colleague. She was becoming frustrated with this reaction from him, so she decided to finally ask him about it.
“Ronon, do you have a problem with Marc?”
“Nope.”
Jennifer wasn't going to back down. It was obvious there was some conflict going on inside him. She crossed her arms and looked up at him incredulously. “Really?”
He just gave her a noncommittal shrug.
“I'm not going to bed until you tell me.”
Ronon shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and stared down at her, yet he did not meet her eyes. He looked over her head, and then down at the floor, and then glanced back at her again.
“Ronon,” she stepped forward, resting a hand on his upper arm. She waited for him to look up at her. She look of uncertainty in his eyes made her heart twist.
“You've been spending time with him lately. . .a lot,” he started.
Jennifer nodded. Yeah, they worked together.
“I-I overheard people talking and stuff. People you worked with. But I came by the lab a few times. . . saw you together.”
Jennifer was speechless. Oh my God, he is jealous.
But Ronon wasn't finished. “I mean-he's a lot like you. . . from Earth.” He seemed to want to say more, but couldn’t quite find the words to express what he feared, but Jennifer knew.
He had it completely wrong.
“Ronon, we work together. I'm his boss. Oh yeah, and I'm kinda attached to someone else-you,” emphasized.
“Yeah. But if maybe if you weren't pregnant-“
“Then what? I'd be with Marc?” She couldn't believe they were having this conversation, that this was even an issue. She would never have imagined Ronon being insecure of his place in her heart. All the while, she had questioned what he saw in her, whether he would eventually lose interest. In the back of her mind, there was the terrifying thought that the only reason he was still with her now was because of her pregnancy. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, all things considered, but she didn't want that type of commitment from anyone.
Amidst all the uncertainty and emotional turmoil of the moment, Jennifer felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Ronon,” she pleaded. “I love you.” She'd finally said it. Though, she resolved, she'd obviously have to do a better job of reassuring him. “I don't want to be with anyone else, and I'm not looking for anyone else.” God, she hated these hormones, because it was hard for her to keep from turning into a sobbing mess before making him understand how she felt. She failed to choke back a sob, wiping at her eyes in frustration.
She saw his countenance transform and soften before her eyes blurred with tears, and then Ronon's arms were around her, and she sniffled against his chest. She hated being such a wimp.
“I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you,” he murmured, stroking her still damp hair.
She let out a bitter laugh against his shirt. “Yes, you suck,” she agreed. She looked up at him, “Seriously, Marc over you?”
Ronon smirked down at her, a bit of sheepishness remaining him as his hand stroked her back. “What?” he shrugged. “He's 'cute', right?”
Jennifer merely rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up,” she laughed.
She exhaled, squeezed him to her and relished the warmth of him. “I'm just really glad you didn't beat him up or anything.”
“Thought about it.”
“Ronon!” she gaped.
“I said I 'thought about it,'” he clarified. “'Sides . . . Teyla said it would make you mad if I did.”
Jennifer's head jerked up to see the mischievous twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You're serious?”
Ronon just shrugged before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Jennifer smiled and pulled away from him. She walked over to pick up her hair towel, running it through her hair once more. “Let me just put up my hair and then we can go to your room.” She waited for Ronon to nod before turning her dresser to retrieve a comb. When she turned back around, Ronon was right in front of her, and he seemed to be studying her hair.
“What is it?” She was curious.
He brought his gaze from her hair down to her face. “Let me do it.”
“Do what?” Her brow furrowed.
“Your hair. Let me do it.”
Jennifer just stared at him like he was speaking Czech.
“Trust me,” he stated. He held his hand out, indicated for her to give him the comb. Slowly, she placed the plastic hair utensil against the palm of his hand, and he flashed her a wicked grin in return.
It was the middle of the night, and Jennifer had no idea what she had in mind. Yet, when Ronon asked her to trust him, she always did.
He gestured for her to sit down, and after she obeyed, he turned her chair away from the mirror. So, it's was going to be a surprise. Like I haven't had enough of those tonight, she mused.
As Ronon gently worked the comb through the tangles of her hair and then began his work, she seemed to fall into a trance. The last thing she was aware of were his fingers moving against her scalp, nimbly weaving together the strands of her hair.
TBC.
Back Home - Pt. 4
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A/N: I hope you guys heart Dr. Pedersen, now. :) Or, at least, you like how I used him as a plot device. I didn't know it when I first wrote it, but now I'm imagining him looking kinda like the character of Riley Poole (Justin Bartha) in the two National Treasure movies, but a bit less cynical. Or maybe not. More specifically, think of a cross between Riley Poole and Carter Webb, a character played by Adam Brody in In The Land of Women. Yeah. Perfect.
The second half of this chapter was really difficult to write, with having to find the right emotional place and all. Hope it worked. Comments are appreciated and encouraged. : )
Thanks to
tardiscalling84and
journeyman07for ßetaing.
AUTHOR: renisanz
SUMMARY: Settling down won't be easy for either of them. Ronon/Keller.
CATEGORY: romance/drama
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 2,375
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em, but they're fun to play.
NOTES: This chapter is quite a bit longer than the others. There was a lot to say. Enjoy. :)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Back Home - Pt. 2
Jennifer entered the lab to see Dr. Marc Pedersen peering into a microscope. He was stationed on the opposite side of her work area. After dinner, she had decided to stop by the lab to check on his progress before heading, thankfully, to bed.
“Find anything new-“
She stopped mid-sentence as he jumped, startling her in turn.
So it wasn't so hard to sneak up on people after all, she mused. “I'm so sorry,” she said, smiling a bit to break the tension. She slid onto her stool across from him.
He shyly ran a hair through his shaggy, dark brown hair. He slid a pair of black-rimmed glasses onto his face (Jennifer thought they gave him a slight emo look) and then regarded her. “I've made a bit of progress,” he began. To Jennifer he looked as though he was trying to contain his excitement.
However, she couldn't get past the emo thing. She didn't realized she was staring until he asked, “What?”
Her eyes widened as her cheeks flushed. “Nothing, you just-I didn't know you wore glasses,” she finished, lamely.
“Ah,” he smirked, lifting an eyebrow in dubiety. “I'm on my last pair of contacts. I put off requesting new ones in time for the next supply shipment, so it's gonna be a while,” he sighed. “I think they make me look smarter,” he quipped.
Jennifer dimpled at the last comment. “Try pretentious,” she countered.
“Touché,” he allowed, his eyes sparkling in mirth.
She had to admit, the glasses somehow made his blue eyes stand out even more. In person, he looked so much different than the crappy photo in his personnel file. What had stood out to her most was that he was actually around her age (she being one of the youngest people on the expedition), and that had piqued her interest him, apart from his academic attributes. He had most likely skipped a grade or two himself during his formative years, and he had possibly shared some of her experiences in being an outsider, never quite fitting in with her much older peers. Of course, he was quite accomplished in the field of medicine, biochemistry being a specialty of his that was proving advantageous at this moment.
And yet, Jennifer had not gotten to know him until very recently, shortly before she had become pregnant actually. He was cute and she liked his quirky sense of humor . . . but he was no Ronon Dex. Ronon was, well, he was Ronon, and amazing didn't begin to encompass what he had proved to be these past few weeks. That alone put to rest any lingering thoughts she may have had of what-might-have-been-if-only.
Refocusing her attention on the problem at hand she asked, “So what did you find?”
“I think I've isolated one of the compounds in the sample that contributes to fertility. It has a structure very similar to clomid . . . but it works like clomid on crack.”
Jennifer was both amused and slightly frightened by the analogy. Clomid was a fertility drug used to stimulate ovulation. “Wait . . . clomid takes a few weeks to work. I only had the wine and got pregnant the same night.”
“Yes, hence the 'on crack' reference,” Dr. Pedersen nodded. “But this clomid-like substance is only one of the components. They probably all work in tandem to increase fertility. There are still many other factors to consider. Either way, this is an incredible breakthrough. You were right to look into this more. If we could acquire more of this,” he didn't quite know what to call it, “this drug, and find a way to reproduce it . . . It has amazing potential to treat people suffering from infertility.”
“Absolutely,” Jennifer agreed. Still, she knew it wouldn't be that simple. “However, there may be unforeseen side effects. For example, it might have worked differently on me because I'm not a native of the planet, or this galaxy for that matter.” Jennifer's mind was working overtime with all the possibilities. “Maybe that's why I couldn't remember anything,” she mumbled.
“What do you mean?”
Jennifer looked up at Marc and blushed. Had she said that out loud? She figured she might as well tell him, since he had kept her confidence thus far. “The day after me and Ronon . . . yeah. I couldn't remember anything from the night before.”
“But nothing showed up on your tox screen.” He stated. She was glad he kept his tone professional.
“No. Ronon's memory was affected as well. That's why I initially thought he had drugged us.”
“Who's 'he'?” Marc's brow furrowed in ignorance of the situation.
Oh, crap. Jennifer hadn't told Marc the story of her ordeal on Ferra. She figured he knew that it had been bad, but he had never asked her for details, a fact of which she was immensely glad.
Her uncertainty was apparent, for he then said, “It's ok. I didn't mean to pry-“
“No, no,” she interjected, putting a hand up, indicating him to be silent. “I think it's important for you to know all the facts.”
“Alright,” he said in a measured tone.
Jennifer took a deep breath, looking away as she prepared to relay the facts when Marc interrupted, “Wait . . . is there kissing in this story?”
She looked up to see his face scrunched in an expression of faux repulsion. Her mouth hung open for a moment, allowing an astonished laugh to bubble forth. She fought hard against the urge to chuck a nearby test tube at his head. Jennifer supposed she would have to get used to a bit of teasing about her relationship with Ronon. She could pretty much take anything after the exceedingly awkward experience she'd had at dinner.
A rueful smirk was her only reply to his inquiry as she began to recount the fateful events of that night.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Jennifer glanced her watch once again as she waved her hand over the control crystals to open the door to her room. Crap! It was nearly a quarter to ten. She had told Ronon that she would only be a few minutes in the lab, and that was nearly two hours ago. Crap, crap, crap.
Quickly, she stripped off her clothes, leaving a trail behind her on the way to the bathroom.
Wait, why am I freaking out? she wondered as she stepped under the warm spray of the shower. Ronon would understand. She just got carried away a bit in the lab. Ok, maybe she wouldn't use those exact words when explaining her tardiness to him, especially with the wary looks he'd given Marc in the past. But Ronon wasn't really the jealous type, was he? She figured they might have to talk about this very soon. Like, tonight even, if Ronon made it an issue.
Ten minutes later, Jennifer emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam billowing in her wake. She felt refreshed, at least. She crossed the room and sat down at her desk, where her laptop was stationed. She hadn't checked her email all day, and she needed to see if there were any messages that warranted an immediate reply. There were none, thankfully. However, she was slightly disheartened to see that her father had not emailed her today. He had been emailing her every Tuesday for a while now. Well, she still had to tell him about Ronon, so she decided to take tomorrow morning to compose a message breaking him into the news, save for her pregnancy.
She pulled down the towel from her atop her head that held up her mess of damp hair, pulling the terrycloth fabric across the length to dry it. At the same time, she rummaged through her drawers for something to wear to bed. She decided on a pale yellow tank top, and dark green pajama pants with orange, blue and yellow vertical pinstripes. After checking her reflection in the mirror, she decided to put on a dark blue hoodie as much for the protect against the chilly air in the halls as to cover up her growing bump during her walk to Ronon's room.
Jennifer had just pulled the garment over her head when she heard the door chime. She had a pretty good idea of who it was. “Come in,” she called, as she pulled the hoodie down over the small swell of her abdomen.
She turned to see Ronon walk into her room. “Hey,” she smiled. “I was just about to come by.”
He simply nodded. He shifted his weight on his feet in a way Jennifer had come to recognize as a sign that he was nervous, uncertain.
“Is everything ok?” she asked, stepping to him.
“Yeah,” his voice was a whisper. “I just . . . I didn't know if you were sick again or something.”
Oh my . . . he'd been really worried about me, Jennifer realized. “I'm sorry. I just took longer than I thought with Marc at the lab.”
Jennifer caught Ronon's jaw clench at the mention of her colleague. She was becoming frustrated with this reaction from him, so she decided to finally ask him about it.
“Ronon, do you have a problem with Marc?”
“Nope.”
Jennifer wasn't going to back down. It was obvious there was some conflict going on inside him. She crossed her arms and looked up at him incredulously. “Really?”
He just gave her a noncommittal shrug.
“I'm not going to bed until you tell me.”
Ronon shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and stared down at her, yet he did not meet her eyes. He looked over her head, and then down at the floor, and then glanced back at her again.
“Ronon,” she stepped forward, resting a hand on his upper arm. She waited for him to look up at her. She look of uncertainty in his eyes made her heart twist.
“You've been spending time with him lately. . .a lot,” he started.
Jennifer nodded. Yeah, they worked together.
“I-I overheard people talking and stuff. People you worked with. But I came by the lab a few times. . . saw you together.”
Jennifer was speechless. Oh my God, he is jealous.
But Ronon wasn't finished. “I mean-he's a lot like you. . . from Earth.” He seemed to want to say more, but couldn’t quite find the words to express what he feared, but Jennifer knew.
He had it completely wrong.
“Ronon, we work together. I'm his boss. Oh yeah, and I'm kinda attached to someone else-you,” emphasized.
“Yeah. But if maybe if you weren't pregnant-“
“Then what? I'd be with Marc?” She couldn't believe they were having this conversation, that this was even an issue. She would never have imagined Ronon being insecure of his place in her heart. All the while, she had questioned what he saw in her, whether he would eventually lose interest. In the back of her mind, there was the terrifying thought that the only reason he was still with her now was because of her pregnancy. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, all things considered, but she didn't want that type of commitment from anyone.
Amidst all the uncertainty and emotional turmoil of the moment, Jennifer felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Ronon,” she pleaded. “I love you.” She'd finally said it. Though, she resolved, she'd obviously have to do a better job of reassuring him. “I don't want to be with anyone else, and I'm not looking for anyone else.” God, she hated these hormones, because it was hard for her to keep from turning into a sobbing mess before making him understand how she felt. She failed to choke back a sob, wiping at her eyes in frustration.
She saw his countenance transform and soften before her eyes blurred with tears, and then Ronon's arms were around her, and she sniffled against his chest. She hated being such a wimp.
“I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you,” he murmured, stroking her still damp hair.
She let out a bitter laugh against his shirt. “Yes, you suck,” she agreed. She looked up at him, “Seriously, Marc over you?”
Ronon smirked down at her, a bit of sheepishness remaining him as his hand stroked her back. “What?” he shrugged. “He's 'cute', right?”
Jennifer merely rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up,” she laughed.
She exhaled, squeezed him to her and relished the warmth of him. “I'm just really glad you didn't beat him up or anything.”
“Thought about it.”
“Ronon!” she gaped.
“I said I 'thought about it,'” he clarified. “'Sides . . . Teyla said it would make you mad if I did.”
Jennifer's head jerked up to see the mischievous twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You're serious?”
Ronon just shrugged before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Jennifer smiled and pulled away from him. She walked over to pick up her hair towel, running it through her hair once more. “Let me just put up my hair and then we can go to your room.” She waited for Ronon to nod before turning her dresser to retrieve a comb. When she turned back around, Ronon was right in front of her, and he seemed to be studying her hair.
“What is it?” She was curious.
He brought his gaze from her hair down to her face. “Let me do it.”
“Do what?” Her brow furrowed.
“Your hair. Let me do it.”
Jennifer just stared at him like he was speaking Czech.
“Trust me,” he stated. He held his hand out, indicated for her to give him the comb. Slowly, she placed the plastic hair utensil against the palm of his hand, and he flashed her a wicked grin in return.
It was the middle of the night, and Jennifer had no idea what she had in mind. Yet, when Ronon asked her to trust him, she always did.
He gestured for her to sit down, and after she obeyed, he turned her chair away from the mirror. So, it's was going to be a surprise. Like I haven't had enough of those tonight, she mused.
As Ronon gently worked the comb through the tangles of her hair and then began his work, she seemed to fall into a trance. The last thing she was aware of were his fingers moving against her scalp, nimbly weaving together the strands of her hair.
TBC.
Back Home - Pt. 4
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A/N: I hope you guys heart Dr. Pedersen, now. :) Or, at least, you like how I used him as a plot device. I didn't know it when I first wrote it, but now I'm imagining him looking kinda like the character of Riley Poole (Justin Bartha) in the two National Treasure movies, but a bit less cynical. Or maybe not. More specifically, think of a cross between Riley Poole and Carter Webb, a character played by Adam Brody in In The Land of Women. Yeah. Perfect.
The second half of this chapter was really difficult to write, with having to find the right emotional place and all. Hope it worked. Comments are appreciated and encouraged. : )
Thanks to
tardiscalling84and
journeyman07for ßetaing.