"Snapshot 9:Deliberations"
By Dawson E. Rambo 
 
Classification : MSR,+V,A 
Rated PG-13 (Adult themes, some nudity, but no sexual contact.)

Please see the end of this story for an Author's note regarding the 
"Snapshot" series in general, and my other writing projects in 
particular.

------------------------------------------------------------

	Mulder came awake slowly, swimming up through the hazy layers of 
sleep a level at a time, drifting in and out of that vaporous state 
between sleep and wakefulness. He was aware of the warm, soft body 
next to his, and his mind registered that oddity. It had been a long 
time indeed since he had woken up in bed with someone, and the demands 
of his waking mind to identify the person and the circumstances was 
the final nudge he needed to come fully awake.
	His eyes opened slowly, still sticky from a deep, blissful 
sleep. He saw the head of soft, coppery hair just below his chin, and 
the smile that split his face would have lit the darkness of a 
thousand worlds, had anyone else been there to see it.
	Dana, he thought, and smiled even wider. The antics of the 
previous night came rushing back in a flood of sensory perceptions, 
body memories and a delicious, aching tingle all over his body. They 
were under the covers, bodies intertwined, her leg tossed casually 
over his hip, her arm across his chest, her face buried in his neck. 
He could feel the tickle of her breath on his throat.
	His left arm was free and he slowly raised his arm to check the 
time. It was a few minutes after six. The morning sun was beginning to 
seep into Dana's bedroom, the blinds painting a prison-bar pattern on 
the end of the bed.
	If this is prison, Mulder thought, I want to get a life 
sentence. He snorted. God, that's corny, he thought. But it fit. He 
wanted a life sentence with this woman. He wanted to handcuff himself 
to her so they would be together forever, never more than an arms' 
length apart. It was totally impractical, but...God, he wanted it so 
bad.
	Scully whispered something in her sleep and rolled over, away 
from him, her hand coming down in sleep to tug the blankets over her 
nakedness. Mulder grinned...seeing the smooth expanse of her naked 
back was arousing him again. He reached out for her, his fingers 
stretching to slowly stroke her soft, silky skin...and he stopped. 
Another, better idea had occurred to him.
	Moving carefully so as not to take her, Mulder got out of bed 
and padded, naked, into the kitchen. The rose he had given her the 
night before was still where Dana had left it, in the vase on the 
kitchen table. Grabbing it, Mulder returned to the bedroom.
	Now was the tricky part. Dana wasn't clutching the blankets 
anymore; her face was burrowed into the pillow. For a moment he 
considered abandoning his plans...she looked so peaceful, so content. 
But desire and arousal won out over his better judgment, and he 
slowly, achingly, peeled the covers back, uncovering Dana's naked 
body. In the stark bright reality of the morning light, Dana's pale 
body looked even more beautiful to Mulder, and he took a moment to 
drink the sight in, taking careful note of all her charms.
	Mulder got back into bed and turned on his side, facing her. He 
reached out with the rose, using just the tip of the flower to trace 
Scully's legs, starting at her ankle. The flower moved up her body, 
circling in the crease of her knee before moving higher, lightly 
tracing the jutting curve of her buttocks, then stopping to tease and 
tickle the small of her back.
	Scully stirred, and Mulder pulled the flower away, waiting to 
see what would happen. Scully turned over, her eyes still closed, her 
body now facing Mulder. He grinned...he hadn't planned on that 
happening, but it just added to the moment. He started with the flower 
again, teasing her insteps, then her ankles again, and then her shins, 
slowly trailing the rose up her body, stopping to run it through the 
coppery thatch at the juncture of her thighs, and then slowly, higher 
still, circling her naval, and then even higher. Mulder held his 
breath as the rose approached Dana's breasts. He traced the outline of 
each soft, supple globe, stopping to pay particular attention to her 
nipples.
	Scully moaned, and whispered, "Ohhh...Mulder." Fox froze, 
waiting to see if she would wake, but her eyes remained shut. This, he 
thought, has gone on long enough. He let the rose rise a little higher 
until the flower was tickling Scully's chin. The scent reached her 
nostrils and Scully's eyes fluttered open. She took it all in with a 
single glance, her expression first registering confusion, and 
then...panic. And then, after a minute, as the memories rushed into 
her head, filling in all the blanks, her first, wonderful smile of 
understanding burst across her face.
	"Good morning," she whispered, taking the flower from his hands.
	"Good morning, Scully," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her. 
He felt Scully's arms going around him, pulling him closer to her, her 
leg once again caressing his hip, the skin soft and silky.
	They shared a slow, soft, good morning kiss. 
	"What time is it?" she murmured. 
	"Just after six..."
	Scully nodded, and then grimaced. "We have to get 
going...work..."
	"Yeah," he nodded. "I know..."
	Mulder leaned back a little, taking in the vision of Dana 
beneath him on the bed, and he felt something inside him, the faintest 
tinge of worry. Not regret, actually, but a pang of sadness.
	"Mulder, what's wrong?"
	He frowned. "I don't know...something, though."
	She scooted out from under him, quickly walking to the closet 
and grabbing her robe. She donned it, turning to face him. "Do 
we...need to talk?"
	Mulder thought about it a minute, turning it over in his mind. 
"I think so..."
	Dana took a deep breath. "Is it...bad?"
	Mulder tried that one on for size, trying to pin the emotion 
down. "No, I don't think so. It's just...changes. Things have changed, 
now. Everything, as a matter of fact. We need to talk about the 
rules...the ground rules. How we're going to keep doing...this, 
because I know I don't want to stop being with you. But...work, work's 
doing to be different."
	Now Scully was worried. "Different? How?"
	"I'm not sure, Scully. I don't mean better or worse...just 
different."
	Scully suddenly felt the same twinge of sadness that Mulder had. 
How stupid of us, she thought. To think we could get away with being 
lovers and still be partners. She saw the storm on the horizon...knew 
what was coming, and what had to be done.
	She considered all the ramifications as quickly as she could. 
She had been a latecomer to the X-Files, at the time nothing but a 
sorely resented addition, a pain in the ass, a spy, or so he'd 
thought. The X-Files, the search for Samantha, for the truth, for the 
hidden hands behind the conspiracy...those were all Mulder's crusades, 
not hers. She'd signed on for them because of her feelings for Mulder, 
and because of the way he made her feel. 
	"I'll ask for a transfer," she offered, holding her breath.
	Mulder practically exploded. "NO!" he shouted. Then, realizing 
how vehement he'd been, he held up a placating hand. "I'm sorry, 
Scully. I didn't mean to yell." He took a moment. "I don't want you to 
transfer. I want to...talk. I want to go over it, so we both 
understand the rules and limits."
	Scully said nothing. A single eyebrow raised in question. Mulder 
saw her expression and threw his hands up. "I don't know what I mean, 
Scully. Not exactly. I just know...and I think you do, too...that 
things have changed. For the better. I just... need to talk it out 
with you."
	Scully approached the bed and sat down next to him. "Let's call 
in sick today, Mulder. We can take the whole day, talk it out...do 
whatever you want."
	He seriously considered that for about five seconds, and then 
shook his head. "One of us calling sick wouldn't be a problem...but 
the both of us...Skinner would lose it. Remember...he knows."
	Scully nodded. In her haste to placate Mulder's worries, she 
hadn't thought about Skinner. 
	"Well...what do we do?"
	Mulder smiled. "Take your shower, get dressed. I'm going to jump 
back into my tux...most of it, anyway, and head back to my place for a 
shower and new clothes. I'll see you at the office. We'll put in a 
regular day, one of a thousand we've already put in....tonight, we'll 
go out for dinner, and...do it. We'll talk it out."
	Scully thought about it a minute and nodded, accepting his 
reasoning. "Sounds like a plan, Mulder."
	Mulder moved to get out of the bed, and realized he was naked. 
He looked up at Scully, an embarrassed smile on his face.
	"Don't tell me you're getting shy now?" she asked. He looked 
away, unable to meet her gaze. Shrugging, Scully moved towards the 
bathroom. "Lock your door on the way out, Mulder. I wouldn't want to 
get an unexpected visitors in the shower."
	He waited until he heard the bathroom door closing behind her 
before getting out of bed. Quickly locating his clothing, Mulder 
dressed as little as was required by the public decency laws and 
hastily exited Scully's apartment.
	He double-checked the door....just to make sure.


	Scully upended the bottle of shampoo in her hand, feeling the 
tears welling up behind her eyes. Why does it have to be so goddamned 
hard? she asked herself. Why can't Mulder just accept our happiness, 
our love? Why does he always have to complicate everything with the 
damned guilt of his? As soon as the though crossed her mind, Scully 
regretted it. She knew full well the depths and reasons for Mulder's 
guilt. She had accepted them when she accepted him, and now she was 
going to have to deal with it.
	She had some idea of what was coming. In a lot of ways, Mulder 
was not as evolved or sensitive as he would have her, or any woman, 
believe. He had a strong patriarchal bent to him. She was his partner, 
equal in every way, but sometimes Scully thought that Mulder's idea of 
abstract concepts such as `equality' tended more towards Orwellian 
pigs than the realities of the world in the 90's. 
	She had lost count of the times he had ditched her on cases, 
fearing for her safety, for her career. He had left her high and dry 
more times than she cared to remember, and each time she'd been 
confounded by the duality of the feelings his actions had evoked in 
her. On the one hand, she thought, working the shampoo into her hair, 
she had been as angry as could be with him, highly annoyed that he 
still thought of her as a `delicate' female that needed protecting. 
She had gone through the same Special Agent training that he had, and 
on more than one occasion had been required to toss around suspects 
twice her size. On the other hand, of course, tempering those feelings 
of anger and annoyance was her understanding of the reasoning behind 
Mulder's actions. His underlying affection for her...now caught fire 
and turned into love, she smiled, was translated into his wanting to 
protect her, to shield her from the demons that he willingly pursued.
	Their professional relationship up until that morning had been 
an ongoing contradiction. Mulder needed her, depended on her, and 
hated himself for the need and the dependence. She was a combination 
of sounding board, grounding force, best friend, traveling companion, 
law-enforcement partner, and now...lover.
	Of course things needed to change, Scully thought.
	Leaning over into the spray to remove the soap from her hair, 
Scully grudgingly admitted that Mulder had a point. They were going to 
have to talk about things, and the sooner, the better.


	Mulder stepped out of his own shower and reached for a towel, 
unmindful of the water he was dripping on the floor. The entire drive 
to his apartment had been spent daydreaming about the night he had 
spent with Scully, and how it was going to change his life forever. A 
small, nagging voice in his head reminded him that he hadn't even 
kissed her good-bye, and his dire warnings about having to `talk' had 
probably left Scully more confused than he'd wanted...
	But waking up in her apartment, knowing that the forces that 
lurked in the shadows might have Scully's apartment bugged, that they 
might be at that moment listening to the audio tape of their 
lovemaking, had driven him into a blind panic. He'd wanted nothing 
more than to put some distance between them. 
	As quickly as possible.
	He stepped into the bedroom, continuing to dry himself, running 
the towel between his legs to make sure that everything was clean. 
	Things were going to have to change, he knew. It was up to the 
two of them, partners, friends...lovers, to define the new roles they 
had taken on in each other's lives. There were so many things to 
consider, so many of them obvious when looked at from one direction, 
confusing and scary when looked at from another.
	Road trips. That was going to be one of the hardest things to 
deal with, he knew. The temptation to sneak into her hotel room was 
going to be almost too much to resist. Knowing that his lover, the 
woman he treasured above all else in life, was sleeping in the next 
room, wanting him to visit her just as much as he wanted to visit, was 
going to be a temptation that he had never experienced before. Of 
course, the idea of actually going to her room in the wolf hours of 
the night, of taking solace and warmth and comfort her, and giving it 
in return, was absolutely out of the question. Even the barest whisper 
that he and Scully were sleeping together on the road would be all 
that Skinner needed to follow through with his warnings.
	The thought of being split up, separated, transferred to another 
part of the country, a new assignment in the Bureau (probably sitting 
on wiretaps again, he thought dourly,) without Scully was horrifying.
	No.
	There would have to be rules.

	Scully walked down the hallway leading to her office door, her 
heels clicking loudly on the linoleum. She stopped in front of the 
door, staring at the nameplate. It held Fox's name...and nothing else. 
Nothing about the X-Files, nothing about the fantastic, impossible 
goings on that occurred within.
	Not even her name.
	A wry, intriguing smile twisted Scully's face. Mulder was 
right... some things were going to change, all right. And the first 
thing on the list was that door.


	Mulder glanced at his watch. It was just after four-thirty. He 
glanced at the folder he was holding, a special consult that the BSU 
had asked Skinner for. It had been straightforward stuff...at least to 
Mulder. He was mildly amused that the Asshole McIntire, as Mulder had 
come to call young Toby, had not made any progress on the case.
	He scribbled his notes in the margins, drawing arrows to 
important facts, and using the blank half of the last page to sketch a 
chart explaining the obvious ( to Mulder, anyway, ) connections 
between the facts.
	"Scully?" he asked.
	Dana looked over from her desk, reading glassed perched on her 
nose. "Mulder?"
	"I'm done," he announced. "I figured...since we're both 
so...tired, maybe we could punch out a little early."
	The ghost of a smile flitted across Scully's face, but she 
nodded, reaching up to remove her glasses. "Good idea, Mulder."
	Mulder just nodded, the first twinges of panic twisting in his 
gut. The Talk was looming over the horizon. All day he'd been pushing 
it from his thoughts, relegating it to the back of his mind, forcing 
his concentration to the tasks at hand. Now the day had silently 
glided to an end, and it was time to do what had to be done. 
	"Chinese?" he asked.
	"Italian," she corrected.
	"Italian," he agreed. They shut computers and lights off, 
grabbed briefcases, and locked the office door behind them.
	"Your car or mine?" he asked, joking. Scully cast a sideways 
glance at her partner. "One day, Mulder," she whispered, "it might be 
our car."
	That comment, innocent on the surface, but containing so much 
meaning, had the effect of freezing Mulder's thoughts. Sure, that was 
the natural assumption borne by two people in love, as he and Scully 
most definitely were. A marriage, a family, a home, a life. Could it 
ever happen? he wondered.
	"Separate cars," he said, and then amended, "For now."


	The restaurant was lively that night. Several boisterous tables 
filled the place with friendly, happy noise, and the duo enjoyed a 
delicious meal in companionable silence. They both knew what was going 
to come...or at least, the general outlines of the pending discussion. 
The details could wait until coffee.
	Fox wiped his face with the fluffy cloth napkin and patted his 
stomach. "That was great, Scully."
	She just smiled at him, noticing the glint in his eyes. He was 
eager to get started.
	Why?
	She took her time, enjoying her meal, letting the simple comfort 
of being with him, away from the office, wash over her. She decided to 
play the opening gambit in the game that was to come.
	"Mulder," she said, using her low, husky voice, forcing him to 
lean closer. "I have no intention of changing certain things about our 
partnership. I don't care what your feelings in the matter are...these 
things will not change."
	His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher her meaning.
	"Such as?"
	"Well," she said, "for starters, I will not entertain the 
thought of us not being lovers, Mulder. As you said last night...that 
bridge has been crossed."
	"Scully, I never said-"
	She lifted her fork to silence him. "Let me finish." He nodded, 
leaning back, wearing his Interested Expression. Idly, he reached up 
and scratched his chin. Scully heard the sound of his beard stubble 
against his fingers, and she remembered that same chin, that same jaw, 
lightly scratching the sensitive skin of her breasts the night before, 
and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shiver of delight.
	"Furthermore," she continued, "I have no intention of us 
splitting up as partners." Mulder nodded, accepting that as well. 
Scully waited a minute and then shrugged her shoulders. "Then, if we 
agree on that, Mulder...I don't see what else we have to `talk' 
about."
	Fox blinked. Once, twice. Holy shit, he thought. She snookered 
me.
	"Nice try, Scully," he said.
	"What?"
	"Very slick...drawing me in like that. Agreeing to both terms, 
both things that I want very badly, and then throwing me the curve 
ball. I'm impressed. Hanging around with a psychologist has obviously 
been beneficial to you."
	Scully grinned, another perfect retort waiting on her lips. "Oh, 
I didn't spend that much time with Phoebe."
	"Ooooh, Scully...low blow!"
	And again, she had the answer. "Maybe later, Mulder. Maybe 
later." Scully watched as the blush started at Mulder's neck and 
quickly creeped into his face, coloring his cheeks and ears.
	"Oh, I give up," he sighed, throwing his hands in the air. "You 
just seem to have all the answers tonight."
	Scully put her fork down and tossed her napkin down next to her 
plate. She reached across the table for his hand and took it. "About 
some things...Mulder, I do have all the answers, as least as far as my 
heart and my mind are concerned. I know you kind of got freaked out 
this morning...do you want to tell me why?"
	Mulder was silent so long Scully wasn't sure he was going to 
answer. "Everything has changed, Scully," he finally said. "Every 
single thing."
	She squeezed his hand gently. "Has it? Has it really? Tell me 
what's changed." Mulder started to speak, but Scully held up her hand. 
"No...do this. Answer my question. I'll ask you a question, and you 
answer me yes or no. No pontificating, no dodging, no bullshit Fox 
Mulder semantics. Just a simple yes or no. Think you can handle that?"
	"Yes," he said softly, and then couldn't resist. "But..."
	"Mulder," Scully warned, smiling to show him that she got the 
joke, and on some level, appreciated it. "Do you want to be my lover? 
Do you want me to be your lover?"
	"Yes. And Yes."
	"Do you still want me as your partner?"
	"Yes, again."
	"Do you think you can control yourself in the office? At 
headquarters?"
	"Yes."
	"Do you think you can control yourself on the road? In hotel 
rooms across this great land of ours? Do you think you can resist 
coming into my room in the middle of the night to play naked Twister?"
	Fox frowned. "I don't know how many yesses I'm supposed to say, 
but...yes, to all of those." He paused. "Naked twister?"
	"Figure of speech," Scully explained through a grin. "Although, 
it's an intriguing thought."
	She spread her arms wide. "So what's the problem, Mulder?"
	He sighed. "The little stuff, I guess. All the stuff about 
relationships that everyone seems to forget in the heat of a newly 
discovered passion. The stuff in the margins, Scully."
	"Like what?"
	"Stuff," was all Mulder could come up with. Exasperated, Scully 
reached for his hand again, finding it and gripping it tightly. 
"Mulder...I'll tell you what. Let's not panic now...let's just...see 
where it takes us, OK? We can deal with anything as long as we 
remember a few things. First...we love each other. That's never been 
more true than it is now. I've loved you for so long that I can't 
remember a time when you weren't in my heart. Secondly, we're the best 
investigative team the FBI has ever seen, bar none. Skinner himself 
said that. Thirdly...as far as our partnership goes...we just won't 
let our personal lives interfere. If something comes up...we'll do 
what we would have done before, and if we need to make a change, we'll 
talk about it after." Scully paused, looking for Mulder's eyes, for 
his depthless hazel eyes. "Deal?"
	He licked his lips, and Scully felt something hitch in her 
throat.
	"Deal," he finally said. The waitress chose that moment to 
appear, depositing the check face down next to Mulder's plate. He 
reached for his wallet with one hand, turning the bill over with the 
other.
	"Let's go Dutch," Scully suggested, reaching for her purse.
	"Nothing doing, Scully...I may be an evolved male, but I do want 
the chance to finally buy you dinner."
	Scully said nothing, returning her purse to the floor between 
her legs. She watched as Mulder made his way to the cashier and 
quickly settled the bill. Returning to the table, he offered his hand. 
She took it, and they walked out of the restaurant still holding 
hands. Arriving in the parking lot, they stood staring at their cars.
	"See?" Mulder said, "this is what I was talking about...a little 
bit of it, anyway."
	Scully's face screwed up into a frown. "What the hell are you 
talking about?"
	"This. Here. Right now. Do we go to your place? My place?"
	Scully snorted. "Mulder, I don't remember inviting you over 
tonight."
	The shock that blasted across Mulder's face so clearly 
telegraphed his surprise that he had never even considered that 
possibility made Scully burst out laughing.
	"Relax, Mulder...I kind of see what you're talking about. It's 
the day-to-day stuff you're worried about. All the little decisions. 
The thousands of little details that make up the....oh, tapestry of a 
relationship. Am I right?"
	He nodded sheepishly. "I mean...the Knicks are on tonight..."
	"I have a television, Mulder. But...if you want to go home to 
that pigsty you call an apartment, I won't hold it against you. We can 
kiss goodnight right here, I'll get into my car, go home, read a book, 
take a bubblebath by candlelight, and climb into that big, cold, 
lonely bed all by my-"
	"OK. OK. OK," Mulder said, giving up.
	Scully stepped into his arms, her hands on his chest, looking up 
at his gorgeous face. "Mulder," she whispered, "I'm not trying to take 
over your life. I'm gonna be honest here...I want you to come back to 
my place. I want you to turn on the Knicks game. I want you to watch 
the Knicks game and not worry about entertaining me. I have things to 
do. I have a letter to write to my brother. I have to tend to my 
plants. And then, when the game is over, we can either go to bed...or 
you can go home. Nothing is set in concrete. Just because we made love 
last night doesn't mean we have to make love every night...and just as 
you spent the night last night doesn't mean you have to spend every 
night with me..."
	"Not yet, anyway," Mulder said, the promise of a future together 
alight in his eyes.
	"Not yet," Scully agreed. "Let's just take it one day at a time, 
OK?"
	
====================================================

Author's Note : I had originally intended for the "Snapshot" series to 
end with the previous chapter. Because of several factors, not the 
least among them the incredible fan response to this story, I have 
decided to keep "Snapshot" open ended. I will be continuing to write 
chapters over the coming weeks and months. 

Towards that end, I will not be posting the chapters as frequently as 
I have in the past week. By my count, new chapters of "Snapshot" have 
been appearing at the rate of about 1.2 per day. I'm sorry to everyone 
that has written me about their love for this story, and how they look 
forward to a new chapter every day to read at work, or on the bus, or 
in one amazing case, under their desk while taking phone calls for a 
national telecommunications company. One reader was so moved by the 
story that they sent me a PageMaker document with all (until then) 
eight parts beautifully laid out, complete with dropped caps, chapter 
headings, and all the parts that should be in italics in actual 
italics. 

One of  the reasons that I will be unable to be as prolific as I would 
like with "Snapshots" is that I have two other X-Files projects in 
development. One is a complete re-write of "The Seducer." I have 
gotten requests, too numerous to count, to complete that story. As I 
had lost my personal copy of that little...er, piece, in a disk crash 
about six months ago, I downloaded it again off of Gossamer, and was 
dismayed to see how utterly...gross it was. I will be keeping the 
basic concept of the story, but changing most everything else.

The other story I am in the planning stages of writing is a crossover. 
For those of you that know the writing of Andrew Vachss, the story 
will be written from his anti-hero Burke's point of view. It will have 
all his regular characters, including Burke and the Mole, and Michelle 
and Terry and Max, the life-taking-widow-making-silent-wind-of- death. 
For those of who you don't know who Andrew Vachss is, let me say this: 
If Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane are your idea of hard-boiled 
crime fiction, than Vachss is an oxyacetylene torch, an arc-welder, a 
6 gigawatt argon laser. His is amongst the best noir crime fiction out 
there, his most latest entry into the Burke series notably and sadly 
excepted. If you like that sort of thing, I encourage you to run, not 
walk, to your nearest bookstore and ask for "Flood," the first in his 
Burke series, followed by "Strega," "Blue Belle," and "Hard Candy." 
His collection of short stories, "Born Bad," is the single best 
example of the form I have ever seen. Most of the Vachss series of 
Burke novels are available in trade paperback. (Mass-market paperbacks 
are the ones that most people think of when they hear the word 
`paperback.' Trade paperbacks are usually slightly larger, almost the 
size of a hardcover.) 

The reason I'm bringing this up is because I was curious what the 
reaction to an X-Files/Burke crossover would be. I have a good idea of 
what the plot will be like, and where I want to go with it. But it 
will take a lot of work to get there, and I don't want to post the 
results if the reception is going to be overwhelmingly negative. Make 
no mistake, the story will be written...but I don't want to offer it 
if no wants to see Our Favorite Duo in the Big Apple chasing after 
beasties. 

As far as "Snapshots" goes...expect another chapter late Saturday or 
early Sunday. I have to do some thinking about where this story, and 
the characters of Fox and Dana that exist in this particular universe 
are headed. I am open to suggestions. :)

And finally...(Geez, this note is almost as big as the story!) I want 
to once again take this opportunity to thank all of you that have 
written to tell me how much you've enjoyed this story, the under-the-
desk-reader included. I have never felt so welcome, so completely 
flattered by other people's kind words. They provide me, and other 
FanFic authors, I'm sure, the tangible, tactile feedback we appreciate 
so much. They provide us with knowledge that across the 
country...across the world...people are downloading these stories and 
devouring them, and for one, it makes me feel incredible. Thank you 
all.