His world was small.

William didn’t really wander from the cabin, except to the deck for meals, to the swing for ice cream, and even once to the little store, in the company of Buffy, of course.

Putting aside the Victorian mind-set of cleaning and cooking is women’s work; he would help clean up the cabin, when it was needed. It actually wasn’t so difficult, since after his mother had become mostly disabled, and help dismissed when money had grown tight, he had taken on that responsibility, much to his brother’s merciless teasing.

Dawn had shown him how to cook hamburgers and steaks on the deck’s grill, which he took to, saying it was much like cooking over old coal fueled stoves if one had only lifted the cover off of the burners and replaced it with a grill.

During the day, he would voraciously read the books that Willow had brought him on inventions. When he had further inquiries about a particular subject that they didn’t know the answer to, Dawn showed him how to use the Internet to research the subject.

Buffy was amazed by his willingness to learn the computer. He seemed to have less fear of it than she initially had. Fear of the real world outside the cabin, yes. Fear of the world as to be found on the Internet, no.

But Buffy feared it, feared the Internet and all that unbridled knowledge would present more questions for William than it would answer, than she could, or was willing to. She was afraid that he would find out things, without her explanation, that he’d be scared or hurt by what he found. Her head hurt with the loop her brain had taken. She’d wished that were the one thing that he hadn’t been introduced to. Not yet. Privately, she warned Dawn not to tell him too much about the capabilities of the Internet. Not now. Let him just think it was one giant encyclopedia, a giant library, but not the rest.

William found television spellbinding. At a distance he’d seen it in the common room at the hospital, but had been too depressed and too scared to give it much thought. But now, after learning all about it, he couldn’t get enough, to Buffy’s consternation.

He especially liked watching The History Channel, Animal Planet, Discovery, and Disney cartoons.

"Have we warned you that television is addictive?" Elizabeth asked him, as she flopped next to him on the couch one afternoon.

"Huh? What?" he asked her, still staring at the idiot box.

She sighed, "Liked you better before you discovered this, " she muttered.

He picked up the remote and turned it off, "I’m sorry, it’s just all so…fascinating to me. Guess I can see why it’s addictive. It’s so…entertaining and educational!"

"Yeah, Passions, real educational," she snorted.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," she sighed. He hadn’t been re-introduced to that, yet. She wondered if he’d still go for it. She half-smiled, remembering Spike and her mom discussing the finer points of the show.

"Elizabeth, nothing on these channels can even come close to how I feel when I look at you, talk to you," he said, facing her and taking her hands, "you know that, don’t you?" he asked her with all sincerity in the depths of his blue eyes.

"I do now," she told him softly.

She leaned over to kiss him. "I didn’t ask," she said, pulling back and looking at him with a sly grin.

"I’m glad," he said, smiling at their private joke.

Later that day, Willow and Dawn came back from town with rolls full of coins and bills. "Time to learn about money, William," Dawn had told him.

It was very frustrating for him, trying to convert in his head the money of the realm that he’d been used to. Then hearing Willow tell him that almost most of that money he’d commonly remembered using, farthings, ha’pennies, thruppence half crowns, guineas (for special occasions and payments), shillings, sovereigns, florins, and a score of other coins and paper money didn’t even exist anymore.

Willow explained that in 1971, so she’d heard, Great Britain had gone to the decimal system, which is why there was a new money system. She didn’t ask why he would only remember the old system, which, when stopped to think about it, would have rather proved that he was more than just an expert in ‘all things Victorian,’ but rather had been a living, breathing member of it, too. But she didn’t ask, and William didn’t question her not asking.

Then there was the amount of money that things cost that really shocked him. For example, a cup of coffee at Starbuck’s for $2.50 USD, equal to 1.63GBP

"A day’s pay," he muttered.

"What’s that?" Willow asked.

"Um, nothing. Just that I, I mean those back in the late 1870’s, early 1880’s who worked as law clerks or English professors might only make that much a day," he said, "based on a six day work week."

She nodded. "They make a heck of a lot more now. Lawyers, or solicitors as you know them by, make probably $200 an hour in this country. Some a little less. Probably less in England. Professors always made a lot less than lawyers did.

He just looked at her, his mouth hanging open.

"But things cost so much more now, too, William," said Dawn, trying to explain, "so it’s probably proportional to the extra amount of money one makes."

"I don’t think so Dawn, some costs of things are hugely disproportionate to what their real value is. There’s been times that even though bread should have been 5 cents in the old days," she said, glancing toward William, "it would be the equivalent of half a week’s pay. It happened like that with lots of things, depending on weird things like politics, wars, weather, I don’t know all of it, just weird economics!"

"In any case, William," said Buffy, "it’s a good thing for you to have knowledge of, even if you only ‘remember’ an archaic system of money, weights and measures."

"They’ve changed weights and measures, too?" he asked alarmed.

Buffy shrugged, looking at Willow.

"Well, it’s the same here as it was there with pounds, ounces, etc. In England they’ve finally converted over to Kilos, Grams, etc. in keeping with the rest of Europe. The rest of Europe, well about 9 countries all converted to the Euro as their money in the late 1990’s, or early 2000, somewhere around there."

"You mean there’s no more Francs? Lira? Deutchmarks?" William asked.

"Nope, only Euros. Guess it was to have a stronger, united currency against the dollar and the Yen. Japanese."

"Japanese? Japan?"

"Yeah, they’ve kind of westernized a lot since after World War II, when the US bombed the crap out of them. Well, after they bombed Hawaii. Oh, but back to what I was saying, the British love their pounds, so they’re not on the Euro. Yet."

William thought his head was possibly going to implode.

Buffy looked over at him, "Why don’t you try this money stuff later? You’ll probably just have to get used to handling it and using it, and not thinking in terms of conversions. Just take it for what it’s worth. In 2008."

He looked at her with a lost expression and she felt bad for him.

William took her advice and went to take a nap. Afterward, he had recuperated from the onslaught of T.M.I. (too much information) and practiced playing store with Dawn, using paper and coins for his pretend transactions.

Buffy and Willow tried not to laugh, when Dawn, in all seriousness, told him that a roll of toilet paper would cost him $300.00.

"You should have seen your face," Dawn said, teasing, afterward.

"Well, it’s expensive enough as it is! But wouldn’t surprise me if you Yanks thought $300.00 was a fair price to have soft paper in which to wipe your bums!" he said with as much dignity as he could.

The girls all were wiping their eyes, and eventually, William laughed, too.

Elizabeth would have stopped the silliness in a heartbeat, if she felt that he was taking the joke too personally, if it was hurting his feelings. Luckily that wasn’t the case.

That evening, before it closed, and with Elizabeth at his side, he went into the little store, ordered ice cream for them all, and used the correct amount of money, $7.00 to pay for their 4, single-dip cones.

"More than a week’s pay," he grumbled, as he licked his Mackinaw Island Fudge ice cream cone.

"You have to get over it," Elizabeth said.

He just grumbled some more, somewhat curmudgeon-like, and she had to grin, while patting him on the back.

"I’ll never understand these prices, even if I understand how to use the money."

"You’re probably not alone in that William, you’re probably not alone."

END CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52 - KEEPING THE NIGHTMARES AT BAY

If the days were for learning, being with Dawn and Willow, then the nights and mornings were theirs alone.

Lying together, kissing, holding, passions enflamed, but not yet quenched. This was when Buffy wished that time would stand still for them, when there was no loneliness, no worries. And it was the time when William didn’t care what century he thought he was from, or was from, what century he was now in, as long as it included Elizabeth with him, in his arms. Keeping the nightmares at bay.

Although far less than they had been in the beginning, Buffy would still awake to hear William crying out in his sleep. She would shake him awake, or hug him tighter, kiss him. Anything to bring him out of his nightmares. She couldn’t take having him suffer anymore than she could take all the suffering Spike had been through. She wondered did he ever dream Spike’s nightmares? Did some part of his subconscious still hold Spike’s memories and horrors, or were these just William’s own? Sometimes she thought they might be one and the same, as she thought she’d hear a word here, a word or phrase there that would seem hauntingly familiar to her. Or almost stop her heart.

"Burning, burning, the fire….burns…kinda stings," were the words that had almost stopped her heart last night as he called them out.

William wasn’t the only one who still had nightmares. He would also awaken sometimes to look at her, only to be dismayed by tears streaming down her face in her sleep, the look on her face one of pure grief, as if she had just lost her world. And he would feel an enormous sense of guilt. Her pain was palpable, and he knew that somehow, he had been the cause of it. He had left her and it had caused her pain. How could I have ever left you? He’d ask himself.

"It’s alright, Elizabeth," he would murmur to her, in her sleep, as he would gently wipe and kiss her tears away, "I’m here, I won’t ever leave you again," he would promise her, soothing her back to sleep.

On the morning of the 16^th of June, Buffy’s cell phone rang. She had awoken in William’s arms, to the sound of it coming from the living room. Quietly untangling herself from him, she went out to answer it. She opened it up, as she walked toward the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Elizabeth? This is Dr. Turner."

"Oh, hi! How are you?"

"I’m fine. Listen, the reason I’m calling you is to tell you that Dr. Polydefkis was found dead in an elevator shaft yesterday. He’d apparently been trying to leave the building after the electricity had gone out, during the storm, right after you and William left. Guess they’d shut down all the elevators and he didn’t know."

Buffy’s heart was pounding, but she was glad. She hated herself, but she was glad, glad he was dead, glad he wouldn’t be able to ever get anywhere near William again.

"I see," she said.

"There’s more…"

"The plane crash?" Buffy asked, interrupting.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"The newspaper carried a UP press release. Willow saw it yesterday.

"Do you remember how I had switched the rooms of William and Mark Mason, so that if Dr. Polydefkis came by, he wouldn’t know where to find him? Well, strangely enough, they took Mark Mason, anyway. I don’t understand why they did that."

"Maybe they also wanted him," she said, not wanting to explain that Willow was a witch who cast a spell, so that anybody seeing him would think it was William. Sure, that would work.

"Not likely," he said. "How’s William doing? And you?" he asked, changing the subject.

"William is doing much better, he’s been reading some books on inventions that Willow bought him. Believe it or not, he’s even been using the Internet, and he’s discovered the television."

"Really? That’s great! I knew that in the right atmosphere he’d come around. Just don’t want to let him overdo it all. It might overwhelm him and make him withdraw, again. What about his memory? Has he started to get that back?"

"No…not yet."

"I see. But he’s coping?"

"I guess so…it’s just that, well, he doesn’t seem to want to leave the cabin. Guess he feels safe inside. I mean, he’s been out on the deck, but hasn’t even gone down to the beach. I think he’s scared. He sticks very close to me. Not that I mind. Not at all!" she emphasized.

Dr. Turner who had been taking some notes, nodded, "I think that’s to be expected. He’s probably very dependent right now on you, on all of you. He’s been through a lot."

If only he knew!

"I’m encouraged though, by his interest in the books and the world around him, that’s a very good sign. You may just have to push him to walk out into the world a bit. Encourage him to be as independent from you as possible."

"What do you mean?" she asked, bristling, a bit.

"It’s a common occurrence, when somebody has lost their memory, or has become incapacitated in one way or another, for that person to become very, very dependent on their caretaker."

"I’m not his caretaker! I’m his…wife," she said, once again falling into the comfortable lie.

"Well, you’re still his caretaker. And while that’s probably a role you’re enjoying, especially since he’s been gone from you for so long, in the long run, it’s not very healthy for either of you."

"So, what? I should just push him away, then?" she asked, a bit icily. She’d done that for too many years in the past, until finally, it had been too late. She’d be damned if she’d do that again, no matter what any doctor said.

"Of course not. Just give him gentle little prods in the right direction. Make him do some things by himself. Let him stand on his own two feet."

She was silent, thinking about what he’d said, but also about the threat that was also still present.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Me?"

"How are YOU doing?"

"I’m fine. Really, I’m just so…happy that he’s here. With me," she wanted to say ‘safe,’ but didn’t know if that was accurate.

"Good, just give it all time, and don’t forget to get back to your own life, too, by the way. When are you going back to California?"

"I…I’m not sure. In a couple of weeks, I guess."

"Well, let me know. And don’t forget you can call me anytime or email. So can William. In fact, have him do that. I’d like to hear from him, okay?"

"Sure, I will. Thanks for calling and letting me know about Dr. Polydefkis."

"You’re welcome. I figured you’d be relieved to hear that."

"I am."

"Good-bye, Elizabeth," he said, hanging up. He scratched his head pondering all the very strange occurrences that had happened around William Worthington.

END CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53 - HELL, HE'D FOLLOW HER ANYWHERE!

Willow came out of her bedroom, "Who was that?" she asked, stretching her arms above her head.

"Dr. Turner. He called to tell me that Dr. Polydefkis is dead. He fell down the elevator shaft after we left that evening. Guess the power was out and...I hate to say this, but I'm glad. From what I know of him, I'm...just glad is all. Glad he won't be able to hurt anybody else."

Willow shuddered thinking of the gross things he had talked to her about, all the while trying to hit on her.

"I can't generate much sympathy for him, either, I'm afraid."

Buffy poured her and Willow a cup of coffee.

"Hold that coffee, I'll be right back," she said, slipping into the bathroom.

"Hey, that's not fair," Buffy said, "I was up first."

She heard Willow laugh behind the closed door.

After they'd both used the restroom, they took their coffees outside to the deck.

"Pretty here. Peaceful," Buffy said, looking at the lake.

"Yeah, I really am enjoying this. Especially after the other night!"

"Yeah."

"Listen, Buffy, there's a couple of things I need to talk to you about. First thing is that I need you to get William out of the house for a couple of hours, so I can concentrate on some spells I need to do."

"Okay, I was thinking of taking him to the beach. I think he can handle that now. He seems to be coming out of his shell quite a bit. He was sort of on a roll there yesterday, wasn't he?"

"He was. Had me in stitches with the toilet paper comment," she laughed.

"Yeah, pretty good sense of humor for an 'uptight Victorian,' wouldn't you say?"

"Well, a long time ago you said it would be, 'Nice to go out with someone who didn't remember the Industrial Revolution,' didn't you?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, "I remember, and boy is this a classic case of be careful what you wish for, if I ever heard one."

Willow laughed, "You're not kidding."

They looked at each other and cracked up.

"Besides, he's not that uptight," Buffy said, with a bit of a smirk that reminded Willow of Spike.

"I'll leave that for you to decide. Not going to touch that with a ten foot pole," Willow answered, suddenly aware of the possible double entendre.

Buffy just grinned.

"Okay, new subject. The second thing is have you thought how we're going to get William across the country? Back to California?"

Buffy was glad to hear the word; 'we're,' instead of, 'you.' "I don't know. I probably should have been giving more thought to it, but I've just wanted to make sure William was alright, you know? Then I've been just sort of enjoying being here. With him. With you guys. Guess I haven't really put too much thought into it."

"Well, we could fly, but that probably won't work."

"I don't think so. I just can't see him being able to not freak out."

"Train?"

"That's a thought. Is there one that goes all the way?"

"Think there's one that goes all the way from Chicago to Los Angeles."

"I don't know if I can subject him to going into Chicago. For one thing, it's way too large for him to handle, and second thing, the memories. I mean, Chicago is a wonderful city, and I'll always remember it for having found Spike there," she put her hand, unconsciously up to her heart, "but it's also where it almost took him away from me. Where he was lost and afraid."

"There's probably other cities that a cross-country train goes across-country from."

"Yeah, but I bet anything that is from anywhere near here, still feeds into the Chicago station. Seems my mom was once looking up this stuff, when she thought that maybe I'd live with a relative in the Chicago suburbs while attending Northwestern University," she said, laughing at the impossibility that scenario had presented. "Never even thought to look them up, when I was there with Dawn."

"You were kind of busy," Willow said.

"Yeah, looking and talking to every homeless person, every shelter for 5 days. Going through boxes at a museum, visiting dead professor's apartments. Though we did manage to do a little shopping. At Marshall Field's no less. And some other places."

"Cool."

"Very. Just have a wicked shoe craving I have to satisfy sometimes."

"Try the gum, in case the patch doesn't work."

"Neither worked. I tried."

"I see."

They sat quietly drinking their coffee for a while.

"We can drive," Willow suggested.

"Don't have a car."

"Rent one?"

"Maybe. Sort of confined for such a long trip, though."

"What about a camper?"

"What? Like a Winnebago?"

"That name cracks me up. Yeah, one of those. They have bedrooms, stereo and TV’s, music, showers, kitchens, all the comforts of home. All we have to do is to find a campground every night! It could be fun."

"Yeah, it just might be. Give William a chance to see the country. Heck, give us a chance to see the country," Buffy said.

"Road trip, then?"

"Yeah, road trip!" Buffy agreed.

"Wait. Who's going to drive it?" Buffy asked, "I'm not the best driver in the world, but what I do drive is a small Subaru. I can't see driving a Winnebago."

"Me either. Dawn?"

"I don't think so."

"We could all take a turn, couldn't we?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, Buffy, Dawn, you, and William, too."

"Might be interesting."

"Might be dead."

"Probably you and William wouldn't have to worry about that. Dawn neither. Probably you'd all come back. Hmm, I should worry, though."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, "you probably would be the one who'd be dead-dead."

"So, if we're not comfortable with driving a honkin' big RV, who can we call? Um, ask to drive for us?"

"Rent-a-driver?"

"Really?"

"I don't think so. Maybe," Buffy said, pondering the possibility.

"Hey, hey! What about Bernie? He is a driver! Maybe he'd be able to take some time off and drive the thing!"

Buffy thought about that for a while, "That's not too bad an idea, Will. Except for one thing, I don't know if he'd really want to leave home and drive cross country with us, and the second thing is that I don't know if it's fair to mix him up in all that is us, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean, but he was already mixed up with it, when he started taking you and Dawn around looking for Spike, being the get-a-way car, etc."

"Yeah, but that was different. And he was a blessing to us, but our lives, even if momentarily they're not being overrun by the supernatural, there's always that chance. I've never wanted to involve innocent people more than I've had to. Let me think about it for a few days, okay?"

"Okay, but that's what I wanted to tell you. You don't have to worry about protecting William from supernatural interference. I've already cast the supernatural protection spell over you and William. Over Dawn, too. Now all I have to do is take care of the forgetting spell, so that non-supernatural beings can't find you, either. And erasing the paper trail; that stuff."

"When did you do the protection spell?"

"The other night, after you and William were asleep, I came in, sprinkled sand around you both, making sure you were within a circle and cast the protection spell. Easy. Same with Dawn. She’s a bonus."

"Really? That's great," she said, but glad that Willow hadn't come in when her and very un-uptight William had been 'engaged.'

"I knew you guys were asleep, don't worry. I'm not a peeping Tom or Tamara." she said, reading Buffy's mind.

"I know. I’d wondered where the sand had come from, since the only sand either of us could have brought into the bedroom, was on our shoes."

"Now you know," Willow said, smiling. "I know I said I wasn't a peeping Tom or Tamara, but I did notice how happy you guys seemed, even as you were sleeping. You both seemed happy and content, snug as a bugs..."

"I am. Spike, um, William seems like he is, too. When we're together like that, and I don't even mean that I feel so, I can't even put it into words, only that I never again want to spend another night without his arms around me. Ever."

Willow smiled, "That's great, Buffy. That's really great. I'm so happy for you. And you deserve it, you both do."

"I agree," she said.

Buffy sipped her coffee, lost in thought for a few minutes.

"How long will the protection spell last?" Buffy asked, finally.

"As long as..." she stopped, catching herself, "I'd say it's good for a couple of years, at least."

"Oh. Like an expiration date or something?"

"Sort of."

"Then you can do another one?" she asked hopefully.

"I don't know. Probably. Sure. I don't know why not, though I'll have to get the coven's permission again."

Buffy thought for a moment. "Why didn't they just allow you to put a permanent protection spell on Spike, knowing what they know about how he saved the world? Doesn't that seem a fair trade?"

Willow knew she couldn't give the true answer, without revealing what she was sworn not to reveal. Instead she said, "It does, when you put it that way, seem like a fair trade. Remember, it's because of Spike's special sacrifice that they've allowed me to do this at all. It's a very special and strong magic that will protect him, and you, from all things supernatural. Maybe it does have to be renewed every couple of years. Or maybe it's a 'let's reevaluate this again in two years,' kind of thing. I'm not sure."

Buffy digested this for a while.

"Hey, does this mean that I can kick some demon ass, and they can't kick mine? Like I have an invisible shield or something?" Buffy asked with a wicked grin.

"Um, not sure about that, Buffy. Besides, thought you were out of the demon ass-kicking business."

"Yeah, just wondering."

"In case you got into a wicked argument with Clem, perhaps?"

"You got it!"

After breakfast, Buffy and William were cleaning up when she suggested that he join her on the beach.

"Um, I don't know. I..." he stammered, red faced.

"What?"

He didn't reply.

"William," Buffy said, coming up close and putting her arm around him, "I know that you're not used to seeing so many women and younger women wearing so little..."

"Well, I've seen that enough for the last few days, Elizabeth, to be rather used to it," he countered. Heck, he’d almost stopped gawking with his mouth open.

"What then?"

"It's just that I've...I've never worn so little in public before. At least I don't remember doing so. You know, me and my false memories," he said with a wry smile.

"I know that Dawn and Willow bought me some swimming trunks," he continued. That's what they're called, right?"

Buffy nodded.

"But I don't know how I'll feel walking to the beach in them. I think I'll feel quite naked. And I don't really know how to swim," he quickly added.

"Well," Buffy said, lightly kissing his ear, before she whispered into it, "we'll both be almost naked, but socially acceptable for 2008, together. And that was a mouthful, I hope you appreciated it."

"Not to mention, a really poor grammatical sentence," he joked, as part of him was definitely appreciating both the ear kissing, coupled with the word naked, "Oh, alright. If we must!"

"Woohoo!" she rather squealed, causing his eardrum to vibrate a bit painfully, "I mean, thank you, William."

She danced off to put on her new bikini and he grudgingly went to put on his new beach attire.

Not since he could remember being a boy had he worn short pants, and these were worse still. Way short pants. Well, shorts, except some weird material that were lighter than the pants he'd been wearing lately.

"Hummppfff," he said, looking over at what were referred to as water shoes. He put them on. They felt funny over his toes. Next, he pulled a towel with a bunch of penguins on an iceberg out of the bag. He tried to drape it over his shoulders as much as he could. Wished he had another one for his waist. Wished he just hadn't agreed to this.

Buffy knocked on the door.

"Come in," William said.

She came in, towel in hand, and he was blindsided by her beauty. And he might add her almost naked beauty.

"You...you look," he whispered, almost breathless.

She smiled, innocently, "Hey, take it easy there, William. It's only a bikini."

"Uh huh," he said, nodding, not having taken his eyes from her.

Finally, he said, "It's nice. Quite fetching."

She smiled, broadly then, "I'm glad you like it," she said, walking toward him. She took the towel away from him and throwing it onto the bed, she came up and pressed herself to him, and put her face up to his, she kissed him. His arms went around her and as he hungrily touched her bare back, pressing himself into her, moaning her name.

"You want to make out?"

"Oh, God, yes!" he answered.

"Good, then let's go," she laughed and grabbing his towel, put it around his waist, and pulled a shocked and aroused William toward the door to the deck.

Hell, he'd follow her anywhere, he thought to himself.

She stopped to grab a couple of folding lounge chairs, some floating things, and the NoAd SunBlock #45, before they went down to the sand.

"Help me set up the chairs."

"Okay," William replied as he unfolded hers.

She put the towel over his and he followed suit.

She sat in front of him between his legs, "Can you put some on my back?" she asked, giving him the bright blue bottle.

"Alright," he answered, as he squirted some out and started applying it, rubbing it into her shoulders and arms, and finally her back. He took his time, enjoying touching her.

"Thanks," she said when he was finished, "okay, trade places."

She sat on her chair, and motioned him to sit on the end. He did, and she rubbed sunblock on his pale skin. Not as pale as Spike had been, not as hard and sinewy, but still, very nice. She couldn't believe that she was sitting outside, in the sun, with Spike. Well, William, to be exact. She felt moved and scooted up, kissing his back, forgetting that she had just applied sunblock, "Ick," she said, wiping her lips, and proceeded to get more sunblock on her mouth, "Ick, ick!"

"What's wrong?"

"All your fault!"

"What's the matter," William said, in a concerned voice.

"What the matter is, is that you're so darn kissable, you made me get sunblock on my lips."

"Oh, I see. That's my fault?"

She nodded.

"Well, only fair, I should take some of the blame then," he said, and kissed her lips, right there in the sun and in front of God and the beach populace, "Ick, indeed," he said, smiling at her.

END CHAPTER 53