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Black Widow	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 35497 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I don't own HP, JKR does. I make no money doing this but I do get carpel tunnel.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Draco had to hold back his laughter as he watched Hermione flying shakily around the Manor. If the broomstick wasn’t warded against shattering, he might fear her grip snapping it in half. He almost couldn’t believe that after all of her adventures during the war… and after, she was still terrified of heights. And the fact that the curse hadn’t touched those particular feelings was just icing on the cake. Perhaps she was really good at hiding it. She screamed when the broom wiggled in a gust of air. Or maybe she was just extremely lucky.
“How in the bloody hell is this supposed to help me?” she screeched, lying flat against the broom.
“Do you want to get married?” he yelled.
“Not in your fucking life you sodding bastard!”
He chuckled. “Then it’s helping. Bring her in.”
“HOW?”
He bit back another laugh. “Lean forward, press the handle down gently, and slightly to the left. You’ll start a gentle circle down.”
She landed a little roughly, but all in one piece which was all he could hope for. While she was still trembling from her perceived brush with death, he had an idea.
“Incidentally, that’s how you handle my stick too.”
“OOOOOOOOH!”
He did laugh then. She was about ten shades redder than Weasley could pull off and so angry she was stuttering. She hadn’t even realized that she’d pushed off the ground and had started hovering in the air again. He counted it a win. But he had to get her down so he could work on the curse again… without losing the emotions she’d built up.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” she snapped.
He giggled like a moron before he could stop it, somehow making her even angrier. Good. “Get down you slutty cow and I’ll tell you.”
“Slutty cow?” she shrieked, forcing the broom down and all but falling off of it. “Where do you get off calling me names you KNOW I don’t deserve you self-important bastard?”
He ignored her jibe and stalked over to her. She paled but held her ground, something he was quite proud of. It reminded him of the old Granger, the one who would stand up to him… even slap him when he deserved it. He was so looking forward to seeing her again in her full glory, all righteous anger and fierceness that made more than one Death Eater take a few steps back. But he had to do this first.
“Kneel!” he barked, mentally sighing when she hit her knees. Not there yet. “Keep your eyes open.”
“Why?” she whispered, her eyes full of fear.
“Because I need a better connection this time,” he murmured, kneeling in front of her before grabbing her temples and locking eyes with her.
The curse was much smaller than last time. He was glad he’d waited a few days to try this because he could gage growth. He’d still made it a point to piss her off and scare the shit out of her every chance he got. His favorite thing to do was wait outside the door to the Wizengamet docket committee where she practically camped every day and jump out at her when she walked by. With the added help of the Knight cloak, she never saw it coming, barely even felt him. After the first day, he had her looking around doors. That’s when he’d commandeered Potter’s cloak and scared her even worse, once so bad she actually teared up. And keeping her in that heightened state had done its job. She was ready for the next step.
He wished he’d taken her into the manor before he’d started. This step was much harder than he’d thought it would be. Then again, he hadn’t expected her to open her mind even further to him as he delved inside. She must know how much progress she was making to let him in like that. It was so tempting to go traipsing through her memories, but he held steady and forced the curse into an even smaller ball, disconnecting it from the places it had leached in her brain, particularly the part that controlled her actions. He’d disconnect the emotions last, since that was the best measurement he had. This time he surrounded the curse with a layer of memories he’d found on the surface. They were completely innocuous, images of her filling out monotonous paperwork, filing yet another denial, copying things down with a simple spell. It would be a good layer that emotions wouldn’t touch. And she still hadn’t developed any feelings for Weasley, good or bad, so that was the next step.
When he finally pulled out, his mind felt like mush. They were both barely able to stay upright and his legs felt like jelly. He’d used too much magic but he couldn’t muster up the strength to be annoyed. There was a lightness in Hermione’s face he hadn’t seen before, like he’d given her a moment of peace. That was all he could ask for at the moment so he chalked it up to a good job. That was, until his mirror went off. He growled and managed to sit back on his arse, keeping the image from her. She was pretty preoccupied with exploring her own mind to take too much notice.
“Yes my king?” he murmured, his teeth gritted. He hoped Kingsley would get the point.
“Company Draco?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, glancing over to see Hermione with her eyes closed.
“Send her home. You must choose two and go.”
“What? Where?”
Kingsley sighed. “The Faction left a message. Morte ad purum.”
“Death to the pure,” Hermione said, her eyes popping open wide. “Oh Gods.”
Draco searched her pale face, realizing something. “That’s your attacker’s motto.”
She teared up, nodding. He felt horrible as she curled in on herself but he couldn’t help her. He had to move on this.
“Why me? Send Phyto or Stargazer.”
“The Faction has gone dark, Draco.”
Draco closed his eyes and nodded. Sometimes he hated that he could deal with dark magic. He hated it even more that it was Voldemort that made him the way he was. Who in their right mind fed a baby an enslavement potion anyway? He wanted to laugh. The same bastard that tried to kill a baby, of course. And branding the Dark Mark on Draco’s arm was his kiss of death, forever inundated by it. He sighed and opened his eyes again to find Kingsley looking at him, ever patient.
“Fine. Lucky and Ghost.”
“I thought you might say that,” Kingsley drawled in amusement.
“You’ve already called them, haven’t you?”
“Yes. They will arrive at the Manor in ten.”
Draco sighed and tried to stand but couldn’t. “Shit. Um, don’t suppose it could wait a few do you?”
“No.”
He cursed himself. “I’m spent, my king.”
“I’ll have Ghost bring something.”
“Thank you sir.”
Kingsley nodded. “Clean up and get ready.”
He snapped the connection and looked up to find Hermione with a look of enlightenment. Fuck. He sighed and pressed on. “Well, say what you’re bloody thinking.”
She frowned. “You aren’t a barrister.”
“I bloody well am,” he said incredulously. “I’ve put away more criminals than everyone else put together! Surely you’ve been able to at least read the fucking paper.”
She snorted. “It’s a ruse. You work for… for those men in black, the Unspeakables who don’t want to be named.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I already told you they enlisted me to help you.”
“You didn’t know the two were related until I had a bad reaction.”
Draco studied her face and weighed his options. He should probably obliviate her but he was afraid of doing damage to her mind. It was dangerous to play with a cursed mind, especially one he’d been working on for almost a week now. Kingsley did say he wanted her but she couldn’t be trusted, not yet. If he let her out of his sight, her attacker could show up to claim her. Then again, they could very well catch her attacker in the upcoming raid. But he knew one thing. He couldn’t admit he was a Silent Knight. The oath he’d taken upon entry would kill him and then he’d be of no use to anyone.
“You need to go home.”
She scowled. “You can’t just change the subject like that.”
“You aren’t the only one who has ever been cursed,” he countered. “Now please, go home and say nothing. I don’t want to have to undo all the progress we’ve made.”
She gasped and held her hand over her throat in shock. “You’d obliviate me?”
He looked at her soberly. “What choice would I have?”
She brushed the tears out of her eyes. “Do you think you can really cure me?”
“Cure or bust,” he said with a sad smile.
“Only I’ll be the one busted,” she whispered and fell silent. “Fine. I’ll be quiet. But I can’t go home.”
He frowned. “You must.”
She giggled almost hysterically. “I can’t move. And I’m pretty sure your ghost won’t be bringing me anything special.”
He had to give her that one. Severus wasn’t known for handing out enhancing potions. He hated it when Draco had to take them and he pretty much forbid Potter from it. There were too many things that could go wrong under the influence of one. But he had no choice. They had to catch this guy. Maybe he could free Hermione tonight. With that thought fueling him, he called for Totty to take them inside. Once Hermione was situated on his sofa, he started summoning the things he’d need for the mission and directing them into his bag. He made sure she couldn’t see what he was doing but he knew she was paying close attention.
The floo activated and he sighed, knowing he was about to get the arse chewing of a life time. But there was nothing for it. At least Severus and Potter had the sense to come with their hoods already up. He took the concoction Severus had come up with for him without complaint, though it tasted like a cross between Filch’s toenails and Hagrid’s armpit hair. Well, he wouldn’t know personally but it had to be pretty close.
“You are a moron,” Severus said flatly, his voice distorted by the cloak.
“I know,” Draco said softly, waiting for the potion to act. He’d be jittery for a few minutes and then crash before leveling out and he couldn’t afford to move before then.
“It’s my fault,” Hermione said quietly. “He used up his magic trying to force t-… to help me.”
“I am well aware of his task,” Severus said curtly. “But he knew this could happen and he did it anyway.”
“What did you expect him to do?” she snapped. “You chose him for this.”
“I can assure you that I didn’t,” Severus drawled.
Her eyes widened and she sunk back into the sofa a little. “But… but he said…”
“Don’t worry about what I said,” Draco said before she could work herself into a frenzy. “Someone did ask me to help you. But that is neither here nor there. For now, Totty will take you to the room you were in before. You’ll be warded in and I have secured your wand someplace safe. Granger, you must know, if you try to leave before I get back, you’ll wish you’d never met me.”
She ducked her head and nodded. “I know.”
Severus tsked. “Not there yet.”
“No,” Draco said. “No we aren’t. But I am hoping tonight will change things.”
“One can only hope,” Severus said with a nod and set about gathering the things Draco hadn’t managed to get.
Potter joined him, flitting from place to place. If Draco wasn’t about to crack his teeth from the sudden jolt of adrenaline, he’d smile fondly. Kingsley was right to think he’d choose these two. They were the first Knights. Longbottom and Lovegood joined just before Dumbledore died. He worked well with them, but three years of close calls and watching each other’s backs had shaped them into the perfect trio, able to read each other without words. They knew his moves almost better than he did and he knew theirs. Right now, Severus was trying to keep himself distanced so Hermione wouldn’t get a bead on him. He was supposed to be dead after all.
“You both feel so familiar,” Hermione whispered.
Draco wanted to spring from the chair and run before she could figure it out, but his eyes drooped and his body went lax from the effects of the potion. He could practically feel Severus tense, Potter’s sharp intake of breath, Hermione’s frustration. But there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t even work his jaw to talk. It would only last a few minutes, but those minutes could be critical.
“Stop searching, stupid girl,” Severus hissed. “You’ll undo everything he’s done.”
“What?” she asked hoarsely.
“For Merlin’s sake, you were brilliant once. Did you lose your intelligence as well?”
“No sir,” she whispered, her face a mask of confusion.
Severus shifted and Draco knew he was fighting the urge to rub his brow and skewer her with his tongue. He’d seen Severus lash out in frustration more than once and it wasn’t pretty. But Hermione would know his mannerisms. And Severus knew that. But Draco also knew that his irritation was so immense that he would have to explain, if only to keep from yanking her up by her blouse and hissing in her face.
“If we don’t wish to be known and Draco refuses to tell you anything-“
She paled. “You’ll obliviate me too… and ruin everything. Everything I’ve gone through… it will be for nothing.”
“Precisely. So stop trying and call for the damn house elf before you hurt everyone.”
Draco was impressed. Hermione cowed immediately, quietly calling for Totty and allowing the little elf to whisk her upstairs to be locked in for the night. He was also exceedingly proud of Severus. Not once did he call her a despicable know-it-all, a dunderhead, or an annoying pain in his backside. He didn’t even use bloody or bleeding, his two favorite words… besides fuck, though most of his students didn’t know of his fondness for that word. And while he was chit-chatting, the potion had set in. Draco felt awake and alert and ready. He just hoped it was worth all of the trouble.
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“D-draco?”
Draco sighed and staggered into the room. She should have been much braver than that, pompously demanding who he was instead of that meek little question. But he was so tired he didn’t even want to try and argue with her. The raid had been fruitful… but not nearly enough. Every captured member had their tongue tied, though there wasn’t another victim of a bloodstone. He was glad for it. He wasn’t sure Hermione would be ready before she was called again. After this raid, her master would surely call her again. He wondered just how much time they really had left.
“Draco, what time is it?”
He barked a laugh. “Sorry honey, don’t have a watch on me.”
She sighed. “There are no windows in here.”
“It’s still dark,” he said softly. “But it’s morning… early morning. Go back to bed. I’ve instructed Totty to wake us in time to get ready for work. She’ll take you home.”
He hobbled all the way inside and shut the door, shivering at the feel of the wards enveloping them. He had come to love that feeling. It had soothed him when Voldemort’s suppression got to be too much. Even if he’d fought the enslavement potion, it didn’t lessen the draw. This was the one room he could relax in… even catch a glimpse of the parents he knew… the ones that still loved him.
“You’re hurt.”
He shrugged and limped to the loo to clean up. “I’ve had worse.”
“Did… did you get him?”
Draco shook his head and began washing up, his heart sinking. “No. Just a pocket of followers, most loyal, all tongue tied. I’ll have to start making cases in the morning.”
“But it is morning.”
He smirked and shucked his clothes. “Well spotted.”
“Do you ever sleep?”
He chuckled darkly and walked back into the bedroom, reveling in her shock. She apparently wasn’t expecting him to come in starkers but he slept better that way. “I think you know I do.”
He could barely make out her blush in the faint candle light but he tallied it as a win. He’d thrown her off balance, which was his ultimate goal. Seems he did have the strength to help her after all, though it was waning. He needed sleep… and a good fuck. He winced as the darkness swirled in his veins, making them pulse and ache. He hadn’t expected the levels of dark magic he’d faced during the raid. Apparently, Hermione’s infamous attacker had managed to go completely off the deep end. Normally, foes with opposite views to Voldemort thought themselves above using such tainted magic. This guy… didn’t. This was revenge no matter what.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered as he made his way to the bed.
“Getting into bed.”
“Not with me,” she squeaked, scooting away as he slid under the sheets.
“My bed,” he said tiredly. “If you’re so against it, sleep on the bloody floor.”
“Why here, in here? Why couldn’t sleep somewhere else?”
He frowned and studied her for a moment. “The room, Granger. It’s a block against influences. Trust me, we both need it.”
She lay silently, stiff as a board and as far over to the side as she could get without actually falling onto the floor. He decided to quit thinking about it and closed his eyes. He needed rest. The potion Severus gave him only helped so much and he was nearing the end of his capabilities. Plus, the darkness was churning and bubbling, fighting to break through. He’d need the rest to keep his mind numb at night and fight it in the morning. He sighed and mentally extinguished all but one candle.
“Who are you, Draco Malfoy?” she whispered into the darkness.
He groaned. “I’m tired, damn it. Can’t we have this conversation in the morning?”
“No, no I don’t think so,” she said, scooting closer to him. “I said you changed… but there is more to it than that. You act like a prat one moment and then you’re almost sweet. Your eyes turn black and you can barely control your temper and then you’re cool as a cucumber.”
He had to chuckle at the muggle saying. “I never thought of myself as a vegetable.”
“That’s not what it means. It’s a-”
“I know,” he said, cutting her off. “I know a great deal of things you probably expect I wouldn’t. But please, just consider me a puzzle and try figuring me out when I’m not around. I’ll sleep much better then.”
She huffed and he bit back a smile. That was the Hermione he knew, bossy, impatient, and too curious for her own good.
“Why do your eyes turn black, Draco?”
He sniffed in annoyance. “You mean to tell me that in your extensive studies, not once did you ever come across reasons why eyes change colors of their own volition?”
He thanked Merlin for the silence and was just dozing off when she gasped.
“But eyes don’t turn colors of their own volition. They only change when very young because they gain pigmentation, because you deliberately spell them that way, or… or… or you’re exposed to too much dark magic. It’s how the Aurors check for usage.”
“Clever girl,” he growled. “Now be quiet and let me rest.”
“But how do you fight it? How can you fight it when I can’t?”
He sighed. “Will, Granger. Will. And a smidgen of the potion I fed you the other night. Now shut the fuck up and let me sleep woman.”
“But Draco, if you don’t somehow purge the darkness, it could take over.”
“I know,” he snapped. “I can assure you that this isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with this and it won’t be the last. Rest helps me refocus so I can fight it. And you aren’t helping!”
He turned his back to her and tried to fall asleep but it was difficult. He’d been trained to always face your foe. There were only a handful of people he would trust to sleep with his back to and they all wore black cloaks. But Hermione was going to drive him barmy. He hoped she’d get the point. And it seemed like she had as she settled back in. He was just starting to drift off when he felt her tiny hand tentatively touch his shoulder. He stiffened and spun in reaction, pinning her to the bed so fast she couldn’t help but gape at him wide eyed.
“Don’t. Do. That.”
“Sorry,” she squeaked. “I just… I wanted to… I thought that…”
He sighed and released her, turning back over. “I’m sorry, Granger, but I’m a bit jumpy.”
“I want to help,” she whispered.
“Shut up and go to sleep. It’ll help.”
“There is another way to fight the darkness,” she said tentatively.
“There are several, actually. But I don’t plan on being blasted by a pure dose of white magic, I’m not about to jump off a cliff for the adrenaline rush, and other options aren’t available right now, especially since I can’t exactly move like I’d like. So sleep it is. And you are hindering it.”
“Other options. You mean sex.”
“Yes,” he said bluntly. “Pleasure fights the darkness.”
“It can fuel it too.”
“It can. But only until climax, which is why most casters spell their bodies to keep from coming. I, on the other hand, see no such purpose. Taking it to the peak only to fall over absolves it faster. Now can I please go to sleep?”
“Don’t you want to be rid of it? Wouldn’t you sleep better?”
He growled and turned to face her. “Of course I do and I would sleep better. What stupid questions.”
“Then why not have sex?”
“Totty isn’t my type.”
She huffed. “With a human.”
“Not many options this time of night… er, morning. And like I said, I can’t move like I want.”
“Can’t she be on top?”
He snorted. “Only if I’m in control.”
“You’re very big on control.”
“Indeed. Now hush.”
“What about me?”
“What about you?”
She took a deep breath of air. “What about sex with me?”
“Granger,” he said with a sigh, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. “I am in no condition to work you into the frenzy you need to be in order to help the curse along. Furthermore, I have absolutely no spare magic to follow through with the healing. It would be a waste.”
“No it wouldn’t,” she said softly. “I know you’ve been trying to keep me in an emotional state. I can tell that it helps. And… and you’d be rid of the darkness.”
He snorted. “You’d fuck me to keep yourself in an emotional state?”
“I want to help you,” she whispered. “You’ve helped me. I want to return the favor.”
He closed his eyes to control himself. The darkness swirled inside him, responding to her offer. Oh how he wanted her. She seemed to be making this decision of her own volition. Her eyes were bright and clear, no trace of the curse induced glaze. And his cock was rock hard despite his weariness. But there was still the problem of hurting practically everywhere. But then she leaned forward and placed the sweetest kiss on his chest, right over the scar Potter had given him in the bathroom during sixth year. He couldn’t deny her when she did that.
His arms moved without his permission, yanking her up so he could kiss her fully. She wasn’t expecting it but melted in his arms and the kiss. She was unsure and shy but didn’t seem to mind that he was invading her mouth, tasting as much of it as he could. She tasted like heaven with a little sourness, the curse still working its way through her body, but it was hardly noticeable anymore. He was lost in her kiss and he couldn’t even bring himself to care… until she straddled him. He stiffened and pulled her back.
“What?” she asked with wide eyes. “What did I do wrong?”
He frowned. “You really want to do this?”
She ducked her head but he caught her blush. “I… yes.”
“Why?”
Her hair fell in a curtain, blocking his view of her face completely but he was a patient man. He’d wait her out, though sleep sounded better than playing the waiting game with her shyness. Finally, she sighed.
“I… I’ve never felt the way you… the way you make me feel. And it’ll help you.”
He nodded, though he wasn’t sure she saw it. “I’m in control, Granger. Don’t forget that.”
“But-“
“Shush,” he growled, his eyes fluttering with pleasure as she shivered at his tone. “If you want to do this, we’ll do it my way. Understood?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes, Sir,” he rumbled.
She lifted her face to his, her eyes wide. “Yes… sir.”
“Good girl,” he purred, enjoying how her eyes went half lidded. “Now, I want you to strip out of that ridiculous transfigured frock that closely resembles a sack.”
She pouted. “What else was I supposed to wear?”
“Nothing.”
She gulped but did as she was told, slowly revealing the creamy smooth skin that had haunted his dreams since the first night he’d laid eyes on her. She hesitated when she went to remove her knickers. He hoped she didn’t back out of this because once he got to a certain stage, the darkness would take over if it wasn’t appeased. And it wasn’t pretty when it did that. He’d be out and looking for a whore for certain. But she took a deep breath and pulled them off, much to his relief.
“Now,” he said. “Crawl back up here and straddle me.”
Her movements were jerky and unsure but it only turned him on more. He loved how absolutely innocent she still was, how a simple touch could make her blush, a command turn her into a scared doe. He wished he’d have the privilege of breaking her in to be the perfect sub without losing her fire and power. But he was no fool. She felt she had to pay him back and this was what he needed. They both knew that.
When she was hovering over his weeping member, he stopped her. “No. Lean forward and let me suck on those beautiful nipples. They’re just begging to be played with.”
She did as she was told, her arms shaking as she hovered over him, presenting him with her supple breasts. He sucked one rapidly pebbling nipple into his mouth and groaned in delight. He did love playing with breasts. As he worked it, he brought his hand up to play with the other, rubbing, pinching, and twisting until she started panting. She was getting turned on, judging from the heat that was slowly increasing against his stomach.
He played for a while and then motioned for her to sit up on her knees. “Play with yourself.”
“What?”
He smirked. “Play with yourself.”
She frowned. “I… I can’t.”
He sighed. “Have you even tried?”
She bit her lip and slowly ran her hand down her body, brushing against her tender nipples with a gasp. He encouraged her with meaningless words, “just like that,” and “a little more.” She’d managed to caress her entire body, deriving pleasure from it. But when she tried to circle her clit, she winced in pain. He mentally sighed in disappointment. He’d hoped he’d gotten her actions sorted out but the curse was too strong for that, even in this room. So he drew her into his arms and made her lay down on his chest, reaching behind her to finger her opening and brush against the place that would have her writhing.
He captured her mouth in another kiss. If she was willing to help him, he’d damn sure make it good for her. He got off on giving others pleasure. Besides, maybe she would consider something with him after the curse was lifted. He allowed himself that one small hope and bent his fingers to enter her. He was glad she was so short and his arms were long. This would be much harder if she wasn’t the perfect fit. Perfect fit. He wanted to hit something. She really was perfect and he wanted her as more than a pity fuck. But when she started keening like that, he decided he’d take what he could get. He stretched his ring finger down and mashed her clit, sending her over in a wailing orgasm that had her shaking so hard he had to hold her down.
When she finally came down, she lifted up and gave him the strangest look. “This was supposed to be about you.”
“It is,” he said with a smile. “I like watching. And now you’re ready. But first.”
She squealed when he waved his wand, conjuring a strip of blood red silk ribbon. Taking advantage of her surprise, he quickly crossed her wrists and bound them, admiring the way the color played against her pale skin. Then he levitated the other end to the ceiling, fastening it there and drawing up the slack. He watched as she helplessly raised her hands above her head. She was scared but fighting through it. It made his heart ache to see it, the true strength of a submissive. He panted through the surge of darkness that swept through him. He concentrated on the rise and fall of her breasts, the arch of her back, the trembling in her legs and finally fought it down enough to grab her hips.
“Now,” he breathed. “Ride me.”
He could practically smell the fear and lust rolling off of her in waves. Maybe Severus was right. She was enjoying this much more than a normal person would. This was supposed to be a mechanical fuck. He’d thrived on them for years. But never had he seen such raw emotion, such tentative trust during one. And when she finally lowered herself onto his pulsing member, he knew things had changed… for him at least. The overwhelming desire to protect her shot through him, followed by the need to dominate her. The latter won.
He couldn’t keep from bucking his hips when she adjusted herself on him nervously. Her tight heat was almost overwhelming. Before, he’d been focused on her emotional state, how well the curse was receding, keeping the darkness locked down so he wouldn’t hurt her. Now it was a slow sizzle in the back of his mind and he could really enjoy her, how amazingly tight and wet she was, the little gasps and pants she made when he helped her swivel her hips over him. He was already dangerously close to coming but he didn’t want to go alone. He reached down and massaged her clit, loving the way her mouth dropped open in a silent ‘O’ before throwing her head back and screaming. It was enough to send him over, straining to keep from hurting them both as the darkness rushed out of him.
When they’d both come down, he barely had enough energy to release her and clean them both up before collapsing in a restful sleep. Work would be hell in the morning but with Hermione in his arms, at least he’d feel at peace. If only for a little while.

AN: The plot thickens. Man it's good to be able to write a story. This week kept me from my beloved computer for far too long. *stretches fingers* As always, thanks to everyone for my reviews. I swear I'm going to owe the copy shop a small fortune because I'm going to print them all out and wall paper my entire house with them. :D Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys.
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