AN: More proof that I'm not dead. XD

I' m about the ONLY one that has EVER thought of this pairing, and I'm pretty sure I'll be either a) shunned, b) flamed, or c) stoned by gigantic boulders for ever having THOUGHT of this pairing.

So, be forwarned. Plenty of Saint Dane X Bobby Pendragon smutty-smut ahead. Not enough to be M-rated, but enough to scar a young child. Hell, I've read WORSE T-rated stuff.

Another warning: This is FULL of spoilers. This was my own personal book 8 until the actual thing came out. So, if you haven't read to book 7, don't go further!! Unless, that is, you don't CARE about being spoiled.

So, venture at your own risk. I know I did. XD

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the "Pendragon" series characters. T.T

Dear Pendragon,

Yes, ever since that fateful journey to Second Earth to meet you for the first time, I have been mesmerized.

It began as a tick, a twitch, a pulse, even; it was barely even a noticeable thing. I saw your fear and tasted it as my own. It was sweet, yet bitter… amusing… arousing, even, how the panic seemed to engulf you, seemed to blot out the very thought of light. I loved the way you were so afraid of me… how you were so skittish at even the thought of me.

But, as if in contradictory, it was beauty, glory, I saw there, deep back in those deep blue-green eyes.

Blue-green. An idiotic, befuddled colour, confusing itself for one another. A navy forest, an emerald sea, not even a pinprick of holy spark can ignite.

But I digress.

I longed-- no-- I ached to touch you, basking in that fear. So vulnerable, you, a puppet on my string, wavering to my whim, dangling helplessly and clumsily.

I lusted after you, though you dare not recognize it that way. A sort of meandering, or bumping into one another, seemed as if fate had tied tightly the chord that bound us.

And your body-- the heat, the sweat, the pure agony mingling inside you-- Every time I draw near, I manage to lick up everything mentally I cannot stroke physically.

I want you, more than the territories, more than Halla, more than any god-like status a demon such as I dare not dream to achieve. I want that innocence, the glow of fading hope… the hope you dare not allow escape through those slender, beautiful fingers.

And, oh, when I am near you, I can hear your terror as a tangible thing-- a delicious sweet nectarine I may bite and suck all I please. I can feel the blood pulsating in steady tantalizing rhythm, syncing with, eventually, my own. How I fantasize of taking that pulse and gripping it tightly, laying it beside me, stripping it bare of all its faults and weaknesses… violating it.

I am desperate to rip you apart, piece by piece dismantling this horrid creation some god supposedly made and reconstructing you into my own shape, my own form, my own puppet, to play with as I may, to desecrate and rape as I please.

I long to break you, to be one with you, to-- dare I say it?-- love you.

Forever Yours,

Saint Dane

---

I sat there, staring at the letter for a good 30 minutes, reading and re-reading again and again. It was written on simple whitish paper in neat, black cursive handwriting.

A letter from Saint Dane-- A LOVE letter from Saint Dane. No, better yet, a LUST letter from Saint Dane. Addressed to me of all people. Maybe I'd finally snapped. I'd been expecting this moment to come sooner or later through all my crazy travels, but not in this form.

I read it for the fiftieth time on the steps in front of the large Third Earth library. Courtney and I had already met up with Patrick, the Traveler from Third Earth, and he had ridden us over here in that cool golf-cart thing. Courtney had "oohed" and "aahed" at each sight on Third Earth; from its beautiful green grass fields to the simple pleasant folk, she had been amazed by all she had seen.

Luckily, nothing here had changed yet, even though everything back on Second Earth was a mess.

I really hoped Mark was okay.

After the mishap on Quillan, I was beginning to lose hope. Maybe it was all for nothing. Maybe Saint Dane was right, and that hope was non-existent.

But then I came back to Second Earth and Courtney convinced me that we could crush Saint Dane and save Mark from… whatever.

But this… this was something else.

This… letter. It made me kind of a little sick to think Saint Dane wrote this.

It had to be a trick-- some evil dastardly plot to throw me off balance.

Well… it was working.

'I long to break you, to be one with you, to-- dare I say it?-- love you.'

"Whatcha got there?"

I jumped unintentionally as I heard a voice from over my shoulder.

Courtney.

"Uuuh… nothing, just, uh…"

Man, I was a bad liar.

She tried to get her eyes on it, but I folded it up and stuck it into my pocket.

"It's an idea for a journal," I lied quickly, giving her a convincing smile. Well, as convincing as I could muster.

Placing her hands on her hips, she rolled her eyes. I obviously hadn't convinced her.

"Whatever, Bobby. Why don't you go for a walk? You look like you should give your mind a breather."

"Fine, " I said quickly, patting the paper in my pocket and standing to look at her. "I'll be back after a while. Come look for me if you find something."

She nodded, then pulled me into a hug.

"I missed you, you dork."

I hugged her back then turned and briskly moved down the stairs. I didn't even bother to look back for fear she would see the truth in my eyes.

I took off for a long sidewalk (one of the very few still around) and headed to the small park a few miles from the library.

This letter, though light as a feather, felt like a two-ton anvil weighing me down.

A few more turns on the clean white pavement and I found myself in a patch of trees that blotted out the view of the library. I let my eyes dart around before I slid down the trunk of a tree and leaned my head against the rough surface.

Somehow, I needed to clear my head.

A love letter from Saint Dane. That was just… wrong.

I remember, after hitting the flume, finding it in my pocket. I don't know how it got there, but then again, how does anything get anywhere?

I recall reading it while Courtney put on some Third Earth clothes, and I can recall nearly retching.

Travelers, flumes, territories, Halla… compared to this, it all seemed like two plus two.

But this. This was bizarre.

Suddenly, I caught movement in my left eye. I could see a short old man with a cane, hat, and tuxedo (all black, by the way) making his way feebly down the path.

The our eyes met, and he broke into a smile.

"Ah, Pendragon. I see you've made it. How… quaint."

At first, I was confused (when am I not?), but then the answer became clear as the old man's form wavered like liquid.

Usually, when this happened, I had a knot in my throat, but under the circumstances, it was bigger than ever before.

The bent old man grew from three to nearly seven feet tall, his skin became pale and smooth, his suit took that Asian feel and donned its usual black color, the hat disintegrated into a bald head with jagged red scars, and those eyes-- those eyes whitened to a white-hot intensity that burned into me.

The demon smiled at me, and paced toward me with confident and bold strides.

"So, did you receive my letter?"

I could feel my cheeks burning. Obviously, my silence and reddened cheeks counted as a "yes."

He chuckled, then came so close that he towered over me. I didn't bother to get up. I knew that when Saint Dane showed me this form, he had stuff to say.

"I wrote it because I knew if tried to say anything in person, you would blow it up in may face," he said, taking a seat gracefully beside me. For a tall guy, he wasn't clumsy. I guess having a body that tall for so long teaches you how to use it.

Duh. I'm so lame.

It was a good thing no one was here. It certainly would be strange to see an old man transform into a seven-foot bald demon taking a seat beside a pissed-off brunet kid.

I decided to think my first words through cautiously and carefully. I knew that whatever I said here was sure to determine the outcome of this whole messed-up scenario.

I took the piece of paper from my pocket, eyed it mindfully, and stated flatly, "What. The. Hell?"

Saint Dane laughed. I'm glad I amused him.

"Ah, Pendragon, just as confused and frightened as ever. I love that."

He looked over to me, and for a moment, his eyes softened, almost like that time on Quillan when I found out that everything there was crumbling. I wanted, in that second, to not hate him. To not despise his existence, and actually give in to his offer.

Like I said, it only lasted a second.

"Don't say you don't hate me!!" I shouted, crumpling the paper a bit in my frustration. "I know this is all part of your scheme to control Halla, and, besides, we're both GUYS!! Has that ever occurred to you?!"

Yes, I was shouting. Of all the stupid, ridiculous, confusing, plot-twisting things, this had to be the most stupid, ridiculous, confusing, plot-twisting thing of all!

Saint Dane rubbed his eyes as if he was tired. I don't blame him. He wasn't the only one.

"Pendragon, did you even bother to read that letter?" he asked, to which I recalled the 50 times I looked over it. "I want you," he leaned close, so his breath was on my ear as he whispered, "and only you."

I'll say it. I blushed. To be historically accurate, my cheeks burned five shades of red before comfortably settling on a pink-rose color.

No one had ever told me something so blunt before. Even when I had kissed Courtney, I didn't feel so… strange… so… violated, but not. So… vulnerable. It made me want to cry that Saint Dane had me on an emotional leash like this.

Without warning, the demon rose beside me and sighed.

"I see you do not share those feelings with me though, Pendragon. It truly is a shame. I really do desire you to rule beside me."

I thought to all those times before when he proposed I join him on the "dark side," like Vader to Luke. Only we weren't father and son. It made me shiver to think it wasn't a case like that. I would have been so much happier. But the truth was that, oh God, Saint Dane was in love with me. At least, that was his claim. I still felt it might be a trick.

His voice broke my thoughts.

"Why don't we go elsewhere? It is a tad bit chilly out here this evening, don't you think?"

He held his hand out to me and I noticed they bore sharp black fingernails. They looked dangerous. Not to self: Do not hold Saint Dane's hand. Well, I wasn't planning to anyway. Whatever.

I reluctantly took his hand after stuffing his note back into my pocket. My legs had gone stiff from the cod and there was no way I could get up on my own. The skin on his hand was clammy, and even colder than the air itself.

He pulled me to my feet easily, as if I weighed less than a rag-doll. I must say, this guy was strong, even though he didn't look it.

Then we started to walk. I made sure to keep my distance from him; I still couldn't trust him. Especially now. He walked casually, hands clasped behind his back, as if he were enjoying the beauty of nature. But I know better. He was plotting. He had to be.

"I live in an apartment not far from here," he said as if it were not big deal. "Why don't you come with me? I promise not to do anything you do not want me to."

Of course, I was hesitant. God only knows what horrible and twisted things I would find in an apartment belonging to Saint Dane.

But then again, he might also reveal his plot about Third Earth to me, and why all this weird junk on Second Earth was going on. And he also promised he wouldn't do anything. The guy may have been an evil demon bent on complete domination, but I knew he was a man of his word.

So I nodded, though slowly.

Saint Dane smirked in return, then turned and continued on the path, though quicker than I could keep up. Man, that guy had a way of pissing me off.

"What's the rush?" I yelled, trying to catch up to his lengthy strides. Geez, he had long legs.

"I told you, Pendragon, I wish to get to my apartment. It is not much farther," he answered, stopping lazily to look back at me over his shoulder. "Honestly, Pendragon, you have always been quite the slow one."

He chuckled, the his body shifted back into the form of the old man instantly. Even after seeing that millions of times (okay, exaggeration), it still came as a surprise.

"Come, come, Pendragon, no dallying," he croaked in a creaking, craggy voice.

Saint Dane stumbled along the path (his legs were much shorter now, thankfully) and I managed to stick with him.

I wondered briefly if I should tell Courtney where I was going, but I knew she would convince me to back out of the lion's den. I knew I had to go it alone.

After a few more minutes of walking along the meandering path. We made it to the small apartment Saint Dane had spoken of. It was only two stories high and it shone bleach white in the light. It was a simple building; that's the best way to put it.

"Howdy, Mr. Hanshaw! Is that your grandson I've heard so much about?"

Saint Dane nodded in the direction of the voice. I looked to see a tall lanky man with Charles Nelson Riley glasses casually watering a pink-and-orange garden in the lawn in front of the apartment.

Obviously, Saint Dane had taken the form of a "Mr. Hanshaw."

"Oh yes, this is him," Saint Dane nudged me in the ribs, making me flinch at the unexpected contact. "This is my Bobby."

I cringed.

First he tells me he loves me, then he tells others he's my grandfather! Just what kind of pervert was Saint Dane?!

"Well, hello there, Bobby! Hanshaw told me you were quite the looker! Seein' you now would tell me he's right!"

I cringed again.

I was about to enter an apartment full of perverted old weirdos.

"Uh, thanks," I said, then added a mumbled, "I guess."

Saint Dane tugged my arm, and said sweetly, "Come on, Bobby. Let's get on up to my room."

We took a flight of white stairs to the second floor (the building was designed like a motel, with everything on the outside) and walked until we made it to door number "13." Huh, this must really be my lucky day.

"Who was that?" I asked as Saint Dane fumbled with his keys (he had these really stubby fingers in this form).

"A friend of Mr. Hanshaw's. Unfortunately, the real Mr. Hanshaw met with a terrible accident and I decided to take his place. Temporarily, of course, until I find something more suitable. I dislike being old. And as soon as I find something better, Mr. Hanshaw will meet with another 'accident.'"

"I bet you killed him," I whispered angrily, careful to make sure no one overheard.

"On the contrary," Saint Dane began as the door clicked open, "I found him dead of a heart attack on the floor. Rather convenient, really."

I imagined the original Mr. Hanshaw was fine until he saw Saint Dane. That was probably the cause of the heart attack.

Saint Dane pushed open the open door and bowed low.

"After you, Pendragon."

So I walked into the lion's den and prepared for the worst.

Actually, I was surprised. Pleasantly.

I expected to find shrunken heads and decapitated bodies lying around, or torture devices like the rack or the one that you fit your whole body into with all the needles in it that makes you into a living pin-cushion.

But all I could see was a regular modern apartment room painted this weird off-grey (one wall being black), with black leather chairs in one corner, a couch of the same material in another corner, and a vine lamp-thing strewn across the ceiling. Overall, there was a very Euro-gothic feel to it. I kinda liked Saint Dane's taste.

In another corner of the room were several stacked cardboard boxes (what a pleasant surprise that they had cardboard in the future); obviously Saint Dane had taken it upon himself to spruce the place up and give it his own personal touch after the original owner died.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Pendragon. I trust you like the décor?"

I turned back around to see that the demon had the door shut behind him and was leaning against it, an expectant smirk on his face. Somehow, he had managed to find time to get back into his normal form.

This whole setup was somehow… unsettling.

"Please, Pendragon, sit. You look quite tense," he said slyly to me as he started away from the door. He must've noticed me eyeing it because he added, "The door is not locked. You may leave any time you wish."

Well, at least I wasn't a hostage.

So I backed into the couch and sat down roughly. The demon seemed please, and I watched as he went into a separate part of the apartment hidden by a black partition. He reappeared with a wine glass filled with a light pinkish liquid. I'm guessing he went into the kitchen part, then. I hoped he wasn't expecting to liquor me up.

"Dear Pendragon, I am most honored that you would grace me with your presence," he said with an oily smile. "And yes, all questions shall be answered. So do not worry your pretty little head over it."

I could tell he was relishing in his control over me. I simply could not stand it.

He strolled over and took a seat beside me as he took a gentle sip off his drink. It smelled strong, and I could tell it was some for of alcohol. I never thought of Saint Dane as an alcoholic, but Hell, I was learning a lot of things that I'd never known before.

After a pause, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye and swirled his drink.

" I suppose you wish to know why I was so eager to invite you back to my lair. I mean it is so obviously a trap, or perhaps…" he paused again to set his drink on the coffee table. The suspense was killing me.

He licked his lips before continuing, "Perhaps I really am willing to lay my heart on the floor for you."

"LIAR!!" I screamed, bolting from the couch and staring his down, looking him right in those cold blue eyes. But… those eyes… they looked right through me. I could feel my heart freezing in my chest.

"Sit, Pendragon," he said calmly, his eyes flashing, overpowering my conscience.

It was like an electric, or magnetic, or whatever kind of force, just pulled my butt back onto the black leather couch.

Saint Dane scoffed, picking up his wine glass and swirling the pinkish liquid again.

"I know what you think of me, Pendragon. You hate me, of course. And I quite frankly hated you. But… love is quite a powerful thing. It comes up in the strangest places, no? And believe me, what you said on Quillan about me being incapable of love stung," he calmly spoke, watching the wine with a delicate stare.

"What bothers me most is that you did not even bother to catch my hint. 'Love is the root of every conflict.' How much more obvious could I possibly be?"

I wanted to scream, but my throat caught.

He glanced back over to me, his eyes gleaming.

"I--" I croaked, finally able to unlatch my throat, "I could never love you."

Unfortunately, it hadn't sounded very convincing. I hadn't even fooled myself.

Saint Dane chuckled, leaning in closer. I could feel his body closing the gap between us. He was cold as ice. I began to shiver, but I wasn't sure if it was due to his cold temperature, or something much more frightening.

"Pendragon… you know I could look like anyone you want. How about Courtney? She is quite the lovely little brat, don't you think? Or Loor? I know you are quite taken with the warrior-girl. Or even," his smirk widened, "Spader? Do not tell me you have not thought of it, even once."

I flinched, sinking deeper back into the cushion to try and escape Saint Dane's stare and ever-nearer body.

"N-Never…" I stuttered weakly.

Suddenly, I felt his cold hands press my wrists into the back on the seat, on either side of my head. The wine glass Saint Dane had held so delicately had found its way onto the black carpet, spilling and sinking into its plush tendrils.

"Oh, Pendragon, what a fool you are! I am offering you a chance for peace…"

His white eyes gleamed strangely before his form became liquid. There, Spader appeared, dark black hair reaching his shoulders, tanned skin glowing in the dim light. His grip on my wrists only tightened even more as he leaned in, his breath on my neck, to run his tongue across it. Unlike the rest of him, it was warm.

"I am offering you more than you could even imagine," came Spader's voice from the crook of my neck.

I stifled a cry from the back of my throat, desperate to at least keep a little dignity.

Saint Dane liquidated back into himself and smirked, licking his lips, pleased at the reaction to his action.

"Do not even try to pretend you did not love that. I know you Second Earth teenagers are quite the perverts."

And here, he laughed. But usually, when I was mainly annoyed and slightly scared, I was petrified and terrified without a trace of annoyance. I was just straight-up scared. Uncle Press never taught me how to ward off horny demon-Travelers.

"L--Let me go! You promised you wouldn't do anything!" I pleaded, desperate. Yes, I was to the point of pleading. Sue me.

"Oh, no, Pendragon. I could not bear to see you go now that I have you right where I want you!"

His sharp nails were beginning to dig into my flesh, causing my wrists to start bleeding.

Now I knew he was serious about this. Usually, he would find shame in breaking a promise, but now he was denying me escape. Damn me and my trust!

"What do you want from me, really?!" I cried, thrashing against his grip. Damn his strength, too! "Do you want unconditional surrender? Healthy Traveler-sacrifice offerings to bring to your throne made of gold?! Or do you just want me to--"

My words were stopped short as his cold lips reached mine. His hands released my wrists as they traveled down to my sides to pull my waist closer to his.

Part of me wanted to push him away, or kill him, or just bite his lips off in defiance. But… another part of me, and shoot me now, melted into him.

It felt… right, in a sense.

I arched into him, my heart racing on a track around my ribcage.

His lips clicked from mine and I felt strangely… alone… like I hadn't wanted it to end.

I hated to say it… but I wanted more.

"I do not want victory, or the territories, or even the death of the Travelers and Halla anymore. My thoughts have been clouded by thoughts of you… I want you only."

He had said it before, and again, and now I knew he meant it. This was no trick. His heart was mine; I could see it in those pained alabaster eyes… and it frightened me, more than anything.

I decided it was about time to speak up, but as I opened my mouth Saint Dane held his hand out to silence me.

"Leave if you wish, but know if you do, my heart will break."

I knew how he felt. I remembered how I had told Loor I loved her, and she had blatantly turned me down. It had stung, more than being whapped by poles and falling into pits.

But this was Saint Dane. My enemy, my rival, the one whom I have been designed to defeat. But could this be some more powerful fate…?

"I'll stay," I said after a time. He still had his arms clasped around my waist, but I actually didn't care. It seemed as if they molded to my hips.

"I--"

But before I could get any more out, his lips had collided back into mine lustfully, forcing me to lay back onto the couch. I guess "I'll stay" means "Let's hump" in his language. Go figure.

The demon had caught himself between my legs and had found a lovely little distraction in thrusting his hips between them a few forceful times. Even though we still had clothes on, I still felt it all the same.

I grabbed on to his shoulders and moaned into his mouth. I knew I didn't want this, being as this was the first time that this had ever happened, let alone with Saint Dane, but my screaming body absolutely refused to let him go.

His lips pulled away, leaving me completely breathless and gasping for air.

" I love you, Pendragon, and there is nothing you can do to make me stop loving you."

I blushed (yes, I admit, I blushed right in front of my nemesis) and opened my mouth to speak when he pressed a finger to my lips.

"I have let my emotions carry me away," he whispered warily, removing the bony finger from my lips and pushing himself to a sitting position out from between my legs. "I did not mean to do that. Or the things earlier. I have broken my promise to you, and for that, I am ashamed."

I sat up, too, but actually didn't mind being close to him for the first time.

My feelings clashed furiously; my heart was torn into two pieces. I knew there were gay guys, but was I one? I thought I loved Courtney, and Loor, and looked at other girls in bikinis and got turned on by Playboy mags.

But… I adored this feeling. I couldn't let it slip. I wanted it, more than anything. Courtney, Loor… even Spader… they all slipped from my mind as I did the only thing I could think to do to quell the screaming in my head.

"I-- I love you too," I whispered, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He chortled.

"You are just saying that."

"Probably, but…" I laughed. Now who was the one being amused? "But I think this is right. I think fate has chosen this… for us. And… I could learn to… really… love you."

Stop me if I'm wrong, but didn't I hate him about ten minutes ago?

Surely my confidence in this decision wasn't all that bad.

Saint Dane chuckled, putting his arm around my shoulder.

"How about we learn in the bedroom, Pendragon?"

It was about this point that my confidence suddenly took a nose-dive and crashed.

"A--Are you expecting me t--to--?"

Saint Dane smirked, pulling me closer. He didn't seem so cold anymore. He actually felt a little warmer.

"I know you know of what I speak, Pendragon."

"Wait, no," I began, trying to duck out of it, "I don't think that--"

But it was too late. The demon had already hoisted me up into his arms and traversed the room into another part of the apartment. Again, may I reiterate, he was strong.

I flailed my arms and legs until I felt my body thud onto a springy surface.

A bed.

Oh God, he wasn't kidding.

I felt his sharp nails digging into the spots my wrists again, reopening the wounds that were so nicely healing (after all, I am a Traveler). But I didn't protest. It was actually a little pleasant, in a painful kind of way.

His hips jammed back between my legs, causing me to arch into him again, and his eyes blazed in pleasure.

"Come now, Pendragon. Let us add the icing onto the beautiful cake of our soon-to-be relationship," he cooed.

I blushed, and nodded, maybe a little too excitedly.

The rest was a blur. I can't describe it any more than a tangle of skin, fingers, sweat, and unspeakable body parts that I'm much too embarrassed to mention. But I'll never forget the feeling. I refuse to forget.

I remember lying there, my sweating forehead resting on his bare chest, his arms around me, blood dripping from my lips and wrists, our heartbeats pounding in some weird unison, when he said it again:

"I love you, Pendragon."

I gulped back air to say something, but passed out before I got the chance.

---

"Bobby… Bobby…"

My nose twitched.

"BOBBY!!"

I bolted forwards, ready to slap off someone's face, when I was met with Courtney's grey eyes. Suddenly, I realized I was under the tree where Saint Dane had greeted me, the light pouring in speckles into my eyes. Courtney sat beside me, her face painted in concern.

"You must've fallen asleep. I came here just a few moments ago and here you were, out cold."

I sighed in relief. It was a dream. It had to have been a dream. I had fallen asleep under this tree and had a crazy dream about Saint Dane falling in love with me.

How gay was that?

Courtney giggled at my sigh of relief.

"That musta been one Hell of a dream. I came here after Patrick told me to make sure you weren't hurt or anything, and you were sweating and everything," she said, holding out a pack of M&Ms for me to take. Yup, M&Ms were here on Third Earth, too.

"I'll tell you about it later. You'll never believe me," I said, taking the candies and stuffing them into my pocket.

I froze.

"Bobby, something wrong?" Courtney asked.

I forced a smile and said, "Oh, no. You go on back to Patrick. I'll be there in a sec."

Courtney shrugged and twirled on her heel to head back up the path.

When she was out of sight, I tore into my pocket, past the M&Ms, and pulled what looked like an envelope. Because it was. I really am slow.

I ripped it open and out fell two pieces of paper.

One I immediately recognized: Saint Dane's love letter.

I stuffed that into my pocket angrily. It hadn't been a dream. Then that meant…

I yanked the other sheet in from of my eyes and scanned over the words. It was simple, but it was enough.

A light red reached my cheeks, and pushing the note into my pocket, ran off after Courtney.

It was no dream.

And in a way… I was glad.

---

Dear Pendragon,

I had a most splendid evening. And yes, your skin does taste as sweet and wonderful as I had dreamt it would. I'll be looking forward to our next meeting.

Forever Yours,

Saint Dane

AN: So, REVIEW! But PLEASE don't inform me of how much you hate my guts. Think of the positive things this story brought into your life. Please...? I don't think I can undergo any more cosmetic surgery from being bludgeoned by boulders. DX