John's POV
Sherlock had gotten much better about self-care after we'd talked about it. I sometimes did have to talk him into eating or coax him into coming to bed through promises of affection and touch, but it was better.
There hadn't been a lot of new information since the original learning of the stalking. All leads led to a dead end, witnesses couldn't agree on details. The stalker had been seen a couple times a week, but simply disappeared seconds later without a trace.
Sherlock was incredibly frustrated and stressed by it, just another reason why today, Valentine's Day, was needed. He severely needed a break from it all, and be quite honest, so did I. Last year, Sherlock had been the one to plan this day, but seeing the physical and mental state he was in, I wanted to make this day special and catered towards him. He needed it, and I loved to see his reactions to romantic gestures.
I woke him up gently, feeling his smile on my lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, my love." He smiled happily, humming. "Happy Valentine's Day, darling." I kissed him again, enjoying the sensation of slow carefree love that we'd not had the time to truly show each other in a while.
"I've planned the whole day out for us. I've packed a picnic for us for later, and we're going to the theater tonight. Live theater is always romantic, especially the Tempest production that's going on."
He smiled and brought me back down to him. His shirt was off, as it usually was when he slept, but no other clothing was removed, never going further. Nothing further was needed, just the touch and caress of each other. His legs were locked around my waist, hands stroking my face. I couldn't stop kissing him, touching him, loving him.
We hadn't been able to do this in a while, too caught up in the case to let ourselves go, and rediscover each other in the hours of the morning. Even when our lips parted, we stayed pressed together, not wanting to let each other go.
"I love you," he whispered and buried his head in my shoulder. I chuckled, placing another kiss in his hair. "I'm glad we have today for ourselves. I love you too." He pulled the blankets up over us more and grinned. It was the happiest I'd seen him since the news of Alice and Olivia's stalker had arisen.
"I know. We've been working so much lately, but now," he leaned in and placed his lips against mine. We kissed slowly for a minute before he pulled away to finish what he was saying. "Now, we get some time to be a normal newlywed couple." We both chuckled quietly at the idea of being 'normal' newlyweds.
His hand ran up and down my arm, and he laid back with his other arm behind his head. "Alright, well, we should probably get up soon. The picnic won't make itself, and Thames Barrier Park isn't exactly close by."
We finally got out of bed, never completely letting go of each other, giggling and talking while we made the picnic. Once it was made, Sherlock began to unstick himself from me. I pulled him back by his wrist, kissing him heatedly.
He pulled away, his deep laugh rumbling. "Let me go get changed! You're already dressed, it's not fair!" I finally conceded, smiling still. He left the room with a small shake of his head, light, and humor filling his eyes. I sighed happily and sat in in my chair while I waited.
His phone, which he'd left on the table, buzzed. I grabbed it, scanning the text he'd gotten. It was from Alice, to my surprise.
It read; 'Olivia and I took your advice, we're having an indoor day together today, but we are going out later. Love you always.'
"What did she say in reply?" Sherlock asked, back in the room. I glanced up at him and gave a small smile. I told him and rose from the seat, walking to him. I handed him his phone and held grabbed our coats. He picked up the basket and we walked out the door.
The cab ride to the park was uneventful, spent idly chatting with the cabbie. Sherlock waited on the curb while I paid, wishing the man well. I took Sherlock's hand when I reached him, running my thumb over his knuckles. He simply gave a small smile and tugged me in the direction of the picnicking area.
There were a lot of couples, all grins, and chatter. We found a spot near the edge, next to the hedges, and spread out our own blanket. Sherlock unpacked the food while I opened the wine and poured it into the styrofoam cups we'd packed.
"What was your advice to Alice anyway?" I asked curiously, handing him his wine. He took it gratefully, taking a sip before replying.
"I suggested that it might be best for them to stay in today, with everything that's been happening, perhaps playing games, or watching movies. Knowing the two of them, they'll probably be belting out show tunes while baking." He shook his head, chuckling lightly. "They're probably singing Falsettos right now, actually."
I laughed too, knocking his foot with my own. "They really are in love, aren't they?" He laid his head down on my shoulder, and a small sigh escaped his lips. Our hands were joined between our bodies, sipping wine in styrofoam cups.
"Yes. They were both in bad places when they first met, and bit by bit healed each other." The same thing that you could argue happened with the two of us, one we'd spoken of. "Alice was addicted to self-harm at the time, beaten on a daily basis. The way she survived was rebelling, acting out in school."
I smiled sympathetically, I'd known about it, but hearing the full story made it clear why him and Alice had connected so quickly.
"Olivia had just come out to her immigrant parents. As you remember, they are very accepting of them, but it wasn't always like that."
"Really? Nneoma really seemed to love Alice. Like her own daughter, really." Sherlock nodded and took a bite of the food we'd brought.
"She does. That's how they came to terms with their daughter's sexuality. Olivia and Alice knew each other from school and ended up dating. Both her and Afiba hadn't reacted well originally."
I frowned, taking another sip from my cup. "What made them change their minds?" Sherlock sighed, closing his eyes as he soaked up the warm sun rays.
"In truth, it was kind of forced upon them. Alice came to Olivia's home with bruises all over her and Olivia took care of her. Afiba and Nneoma watched, and began to understand that it was the same as the love between a man and woman. They've both been very supportive of them ever since."
I nodded, beginning to understand the dynamics of it all now. The two of us continued to talk through the meal before getting up to take a walk around the grounds. It was a beautiful park, the waves of hedges still shone beautifully despite the time of year. It was an unseasonably warm day, the snow that previous weeks had built up was mostly melted now, leaving puddles of sludge and dirty water in its wake.
We mostly talked while we walked, but periods of comfortable silence would lapse between topics of conversation.
The play was to start at seven in the evening, so a few hours before, we headed home to drop off the basket and change into nicer clothing. Sherlock, being the man is, didn't even need to change. We ate a bit of food before leaving the flat for the theatre.
The play was that we were seeing was Tempest, one that Sherlock was incredibly excited to see. He couldn't stop talking about it on the cab ride. The whole way into the theatre and to our seats was spent with him excitedly explaining the historical and emotional importance of the story.
The usher was incredibly amused by it and gave me a small smile and a wink when she left us in our seats. Sherlock, who had just finished talking about it, looked perplexed. "What was that about?" He glanced back at me, noticing my smile. I shook my head, and let my arm fall around his shoulder.
"You're just cute. That's all." He flushed, burying his head in my shoulder. "No, I'm not," he muttered weakly. I laughed and kissed his cheek. "Yes, my love, you are." He sighed happily, his hand wrapping around my bicep.
"God, Robert, you can't get anything right!" A middle-aged woman bustled in and took a seat a few rows in front of us, her apparent husband in tow. "Well, if you'd made the dinner reservations, Helen, we wouldn't be in this mess!"
I cringed just watching them continue to argue. It was horrible to watch really. Sherlock seemed t think the same as well. "Promise me we'll never be like that, John." I nodded, rolling my eyes as they continued their row.
"We will never, ever be like them, ever." He nodded, satisfied with the answer. The couple was getting odd stares and lowered their voices, but we were close enough to still hear them.
My tongue ran along my teeth as began to talk. "You know, I once heard that after the wedding day, you're love either grows, or it shrinks. Couples with love that shrinks end up getting divorced, or end up like them," I nodded towards the couple. "I am lucky enough to have married the person where my love does not shrink but grow. Every day, it grows. My love for you grows."
He smiled, a rose-colored blush staining his cheeks. "I love you. And my love grows for you as well." I laughed, leaning in to kiss him once, softly. "I'm glad."
The lights dimmed not long after, and the play began. Sherlock moved his head from my shoulder after a while, but our hands stayed together. The actors were wonderful and portrayed the characters wonderfully. Every line was poetry, and I began to understand why Sherlock loved it so much.
It was incredibly romantic yet so understanding of human connection, it was impossible to truly describe. Watching Sherlock react to the theatre was just as exciting, his small smiles were simply gorgeous, eyes lighting up wonderfully.
The play ended, much to my dismay, and curtain call proceeded. The audience, Sherlock and myself included, gave them a standing ovation before the lights came back up. The two of us sat back down, gathering our belongings.
"Do you want to wait until the crowd has dispersed some?" Sherlock nodded, yawning. It was quite late, but the lazy smile on his face told me he wasn't ready to actually go to bed. I kissed him, not caring who saw anymore. There had once would have been a time where I would've been ashamed, or at the very least, worried about who was watching. Sherlock smiled against me before pulling away.
"I love you. Thank you for today." I shook my head, rubbing his hands. "I love you too. I'll do anything to see you smile and laugh, you know that."
He shook his head, a faint smile still playing on his lips. "You know what I mean, with everything that's been happening, it was nice to just have today for us" I nodded, understanding.
The crowd had diminished considerably, so the two of us began making our way outbid the theatre. We were in the lobby when two familiar voices sounded behind us. Sherlock swiveled towards the voices, tapping my shoulder.
I glanced too, finding a familiar teenage couple talking and walking just a couple meters away. Alice and Olivia were walking out of the theatre as well, talking about the production.
Olivia caught sight of us first and smiled warmly. She tapped Alice on the shoulder, motioning to us. Alice looked up and gave a small smile. Sherlock tipped his head, his smile tight on his face. "Fancy seeing you here," Olivia laughed, walking closer. She and Alice walked a fair distance apart, a constant reminder of how much their situation tore at them.
I gave a small laugh, but Sherlock looked concerned. "Did you enjoy the show?" He asked instead, trying to keep the conversation light, but the concern was clear on his face. "It was lovely," Olivia answered, nudging her girlfriend to speak up. "Alice was incredibly excited to see it, she was practically starstruck." Alice swatted Olivia playfully and laughed, but the sound was obviously strained.
"Sounds a lot like someone else," I commented. Sherlock frowned, not caring for the comment. "I think it's adorable," Olivia grinned as I nodded in agreement. "Quite so, I'm afraid. It's my weakness." Sherlock and Alice flushed as Olivia and I laughed.
"I trust everything is alright?" Alice swallowed, her smile fading. I glanced over at Sherlock, whose eyes were shining with concern. Olivia nodded in an answer as Alice spoke.
"It's been a few days since we last saw him. The agents are still around, I can see one of them now. We stayed mostly in today, but we already had the tickets, and neither of us wanted to be shut in. Neither of us would be able to stand that. But we're headed back to Olivia's for the night." Sherlock nodded, his eyes never deviating from hers.
"Your parents and Jack let you have sleepovers?" Olivia shrugged, "As long as the door is open, they're okay."
"It's getting late," Sherlock said quietly. It was indeed after nine, but that wasn't at all what worried him. Alice nodded, grabbing Olivia's shoulder. "Let's get home, 'Liv. I'll feel a lot better once we're home safe, okay?" Olivia nodded, placing her hand on hers.
"Okay, let's get going. We could all walk out together," she looked to us for confirmation, given in simultaneous nods. Alice was still on edge as the four of us walked out to the street. I kept conversation with Olivia going in while Sherlock flagged down a cab. Sherlock and I held the door open for the two of them as they stepped in. A woman in a long black coat with a man dressed in all black discreetly followed after them in another cab, clearly some of Mycroft and Greg's men.
The two of us eventually found a cab, slipping slowly in, almost unwilling to give up what today was. A day to ourselves, but both of us knew that this blissful day was only that. One single day. Sherlock had tensed during the conversation with Alice and Olivia, understandably so. He was so petrified about what would happen, so terrified that they would get hurt.
"Hey," I whispered, leaning in close. "Try to enjoy the rest of the night, okay?" He looked at me for a moment before nodding. We arrived home and went inside quickly.
"You're right." I turned, confused. "About what, love?" I hung up our coats, kicking off my shoes in the process. "I should try to enjoy myself tonight. Enjoy being with you, one of the few times we get to do that anymore."
Guilt flashed in his ocean eyes, and I took a step closer. "Okay, enjoy it then." I slid an arm around his waist, pulling him close. "Just relax, my love. Relax," I breathed into his ear. I pulled back, to gaze at him.
Gently, so gently, he dipped his head down to brush his lips against mine. I kissed him back, stroking his face softly. We eventually pulled away from each other to breathe, following each other's lead to the bedroom without exchanging more than broken sentences of affection.
He let me push him down to the bed, kissing him slowly, softly. His hands lit my body on fire, soul glowing brightly. With every passing second, I felt his heart grow lighter as he let himself enjoy this, this flame between us.
"I love you," he whispered, my lips trailing along his jaw. I stopped, gazing fondly at him. I pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes before speaking. "I know. I know you do, my love. You are so beautiful." I kissed him again and found myself unable to let go. Neither could he apparently, and his hands simply curled around my shirt.
We continued like that for a while, occasionally exchanging words of fond love. My hand floated down to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. My hands began roaming the newly exposed skin as he gasped lightly. My fingers flirted over a particularly sensitive area and a small whimper escaped him. I smirked, continuing to press him down into the sheets.
Sherlock's phone rang loudly, and we both groaned. He covered his face with his hands, sighing. "Answer it," he muttered, and I obliged. I put it on speaker so he could hear. It was Greg.
"Get to the Yard. Now. Everyone is safe now but he came after them with a knife." He hung up without another word.
Dread filled my lungs as Sherlock stared at the phone. "They were to be killed tonight," he muttered. I peeled myself from him as he began frantically re-buttoning his shirt. I quickly grabbed our coats and shoes again, needing to get to the Yard as quickly as possible.
I handed him his coat and scarf as we ran out of the flat in a full sprint, and began a desperate search for a cab.
We didn't have to wait long, but it wasn't a cab that rolled to a stop before us. A sleek black car rolled down its windows to reveal Anthea.
"Get in," she said, needlessly as Sherlock had already gotten in, leaving the door open for me. I hoped in behind him, and the car began weaving quickly through traffic to Scotland Yard.
Sherlock's breathing was quicker than before, coming in short spasms. There was nothing I could say or do. The second to worst case scenario had occurred. The Soldier had come after them with a knife, ready to kill them. The only reason they were alive was that of the agents.
We were out of the car before it had come to a complete stop. Sherlock was in the building before me, racing towards the witness rooms that Alice and Olivia would be held in.
We both froze when we saw them, hearts shattering in our chests.
The image of two teenage girls crying in fear and dread lay before us. The sundress that Olivia had been wearing was tattered and muddy at the end, her knee bleeding from a scrape. Alice clung to her hand, unable to form any words to comfort her. There were none.
Sherlock knelt in front of them slowly, gently asking what had happened. Olivia looked to her girlfriend to explain, wiping her eyes.
"I dropped my phone when we got out of the cab. The cabbie had already driven away and I knelt down. The only people in sight were the agents. The alleyway was to my back but I was just grabbing my phone I didn't think, I didn't-" she broke off, trying to keep from crying. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment before she loosed a breath and continued.
"I didn't see him until it was too late, his knife was against my neck," her hand brushed against the faint indent on her throat.
"Olivia screamed, and the other one punched her," Alice continued as Sherlock's head snapped to mine. The other one. We'd only known one who was doing the killing, not two.
"There were two of them?" Sherlock asked quietly and Olivia nodded. I swallowed, fear taking root in my stomach. He rubbed his jaw for a moment before nodding.
"What did he look like?" His voice was soft and gentle, but looking at him, he was anything but calm. His eyes darted all around the room, all over the girls, searching for clues.
"He had red hair, it was longer than the other guy. H-he didn't have the tattoo." Sherlock nodded, and Alice looked up at him.
"We're not making it out of this alive, are we?" Sherlock loosed a shuddering breath and silver lined his gaze. He grabbed her hands, nodding.
"You will make it out of this alive, Alice. You will. And so will Olivia. I will do everything I can to make that happen." He released her hands when Greg walked into the room, motioning for us to follow. The two of us obliged and were lead into the hallway.
I grabbed my husbands hand, squeezing it. He had not promised that they would make it out of this alive. He squeezed my hand in response, swallowing harshly.
"Please tell me you have any sort of good news," he asked, voice scarcely above a whisper. Greg shook his head sadly, arms crossed over his chest.
"Not particularly. Afiba and Nneoma are currently being questioned about what happened, both girls already have. Jack is currently on his way here, you just happened to beat him here." I nodded, rubbing my jaw.
"What are we going to do from here?" I asked, looking at Sherlock and Greg. Greg lifted a hand, biting his lip.
"There is one option. Mycroft has a few safe houses an hour or two from London, they could live there until we take these blokes down." I nodded, it was the only option at this point.
Sherlock nodded as well, though fear still lined his gaze. "Where's Mycroft?" He ran a hand through his curls, looking utterly exhausted.
I placed a hand on his waist, letting my fingers trail up and down his spine.He leaned into the touch, needing to feel that I was there. "He's setting up a safe house right now. It's just outside Portsmouth, about an hour and a half away."
Sherlock sighed, nodding. "That'll work. We need to talk to Jack, Afiba, and Nneoma though. They're their family." Greg left to grab all three adults, leaving the two of us alone again.
"Love," I murmured, my hand brushing against his arm. His eyes screwed shut in an effort to keep hot tears from running down his face. I pulled him in, encircling my arms around his waist. "It'll be okay," I whispered. "Deep breaths, my love. Deep breaths."
His breathing deepened as he focused on calming himself down enough to deal with the situation. I, myself, felt my hands shake in anxiety, so I couldn't begin to understand how he was feeling. I took his pulse quickly, feeling his heart rate begin to calm down.
He stepped away when we heard voices leading back to us, though I didn't remove my hand from the small of his back. He took a deep breath, composing himself before Greg came back, now joined by the three guardians of the teen girls.
Jack and Afiba were bristling from anger, followed by a worried Nneoma and Greg. "And what exactly, did your agents do to let them get so close as to have a knife to my sister's throat?"
Jack was understandably angry with what had happened, his broad shoulders pushed back. His chin was lifted as he looked around the room, waiting for an answer. It was Greg who finally answered.
"The hitman we knew of was hidden from sight by an accomplice. The agents handled the situation as well as they could. Only moments after they attacked the girls, they went after them. They got them off the two girls in seconds and chased them for a kilometer before they lost the two men. Three of them continued looking for him while the two in the hallway," he motioned to a man and woman of Italian background standing in the hall, "stayed behind to look after and bring the girls here."
The anger in Afiba's face had bled to understanding and melancholy. He placed an arm on the still angry Jack's shoulder. "They did as they had promised. They took care of our girls." Jack nodded, standing down. Afiba turned to Sherlock and me, taking his wife's hand.
"What happens now? Clearly, the agents can only do so much." Sherlock cleared his throat to speak but I beat him to it. "The same governmental figure that lent his agents is setting up a safe house. It's about an hour and a half way if that's the option you'd like to utilize."
Jack raised his brow, "It sounds like the only option we have." I nodded sadly in confirmation. Nneoma wiped her hands on her skirt, shaking her head.
"Who is this governmental figure? I can't send my daughter to a safe house when I don't know the man behind it." I looked to Sherlock and Greg, unsure of what to say. They had the same look but luckily none of us had to explain. A familiar voice wafted into the room along with the sound of a clacking umbrella.
"I do hope I'm not intruding, but I am that governmental figure." Mycroft exchanged a small smile with Greg and Sherlock before addressing the three confused loved ones of the girls.
"Let me introduce myself. I'm Mycroft Holmes. I hold a minor position in the British Government and I also happen to be the brother of Sherlock Watson-Holmes." He shook hands with Afiba and Nneoma before getting to Jack. Jack stared at him, openly cautious for a moment. He finally took his hand, shaking it once.
"I believe we've met, Mr. Holmes." Mycroft smiled sadly, knowing that the majority of the circumstances they'd met under was about domestic abuse and it's trauma shared by their siblings.
"I believe we have. I believe I met all of you at my brother's wedding, but it is now under much more dire circumstances." Jack nodded, rubbing his hands together.
"My people can only do so much to keep the girls safe at a distance, but in a safe house, they would be completely protected. The Skinheads, the members of this hate group, wouldn't be able to harm them in there." Afiba stroked his textured beard, nodding. It had gained a bit more grey than I remembered, now more than just peppered with the lighter color.
"My daughter and Alice would have to be removed from school," Nneoma interjected, wringing her hands. Jack sat heavily in the chair in the corner, running his hands through his hair. "I can have private tutors for them, but yes. Removal from school would be completely necessary."
Greg moved to show the pictures of the house. "It has all the necessary amenities that they could need or want. Agents stationed at every entrance, exit, and window. The move can happen tonight still. None of you could live there too, you need to go about your daily lives as much as possible," he explained as all three guardians looked through the photos.
"What do you mean, 'go about our daily lives?' My life is Alice and the shop," Jack looked to us all, frustration building. Greg and Sherlock exchanged a glance before he explained.
"You can have as many visits as you'd like, but our primary goal right now is to keep both girls safe. Stopping your jobs would be letting the Soldiers win." Sherlock hadn't spoken in a while, and Afiba looked surprised at his interjection. He asked for an explanation, not quite kindly.
"They want you to be distressed. They want us to be distressed, be above the rest of you. The rest of you is a bonus, but it's punishment for me getting involved. They've got the satisfaction of your fear, don't give them the satisfaction of anything else."
Jack rubbed his face with his hands, sighing. He was sat backward on the chair, legs resting on either side. "My sister's been through a lot in her life. I don't understand why this had to come about as well. I-I've had to be such a different role in her life than I've wanted to be, and just when I think it's all behind us..." He set his chin on the back of the chair.
Through all the mess of the Soldiers of the Superior, I'd forgotten how young he was as well. How much he'd been through too. He'd been abused from a young age with a suicidal self-harming sister and had to deal becoming a store-owner at the age of 19. He didn't even truly have the option to go to university or choose his own life. Now, at the age of 21, he had to deal with this.
It seemed that everyone else was having the same revelation, and I watched as their faces softened. "Life's strange that way," Nneoma whispered softly, coming behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, looking to the rest of us.
"We should tell the girls. They deserve to be in this conversation, especially with the changes to their lives we are about to make." Jack and Afiba nodded in agreement and stood.
I took Sherlock's hand again, smiling sadly. He returned it, following me out the door, and back out to the room where the two teen girls waited.
Alice lay with her head in Olivia's lap on the couch they'd last been sitting in. Olivia was braiding and unbraiding her girlfriend's hair, talking quietly to her. She paused when she saw us, nudging Alice.
Alice, who still had tear tracks down her cheeks, sat up, wiping at the mascara streaks. She sniffed, settling into her girlfriend's embrace. Jack, Nneoma, and Afiba stepped forwards, exchanging glances between the three of them. Sherlock gently pulled on the edge of my jumper, motioning for us to leave.
Greg and Mycroft followed as well, giving the girls privacy with their families for what we all knew would be the last time for a while. I wrapped my arms around Sherlock's waist as we watched sadly as Nneoma knelt down to the girls, giving the news.
The four of us, a family in a sense, watched as another Alice began to cry again, hand covering her mouth. Watched as Olivia tried desperately to stay strong but broke. Watched as a different, but very much the same, family split apart before our very eyes.
The move into the safe house ended up happening that very night. Alice and Olivia were chauffeured by a team of agents to grab belongings from their homes before the car ride was made. Afiba, Nneoma, and Jack went as well for one night to help get them settled. It was heartbreaking, but Sherlock and I both helped with the quick move.
Just as we were beginning to leave for the night, Alice asked Sherlock to step aside to talk with her for a moment. He gave a quick nod to Greg and me and disappeared into the bedroom with her.
I stepped closer to Greg, watching the scene before us. "I hate this," I breathed. Greg nodded in agreement, looking around the small living room. "So do I. But if this is what keeps them safe..." he shook his head, holding my gaze.
I nodded in grim agreement, understanding what he meant. "Yeah. Whatever keeps them safe." The two of us stood for a couple of minutes, watching, until Sherlock reemerged with Alice, talking quietly with her still.
"I'll come by tomorrow, okay? I'll bring it. I'll see you in the morning, Alice in Wonderland." She smiled toothlessly at the nickname, grateful.
Sherlock gave her a quick hug before saying goodbyes to the rest and followed Greg and me out to the car. Mycroft was already waiting inside the car, Anthea in the passenger's seat.
The drive home was silent. Nobody wanted to talk at all and just sat, absorbing and processing the day's events. Just 5 hours ago, we'd been watching a theatrical performance, delightfully and blissfully. No one had guessed how wrong of a turn the night would take.
Sherlock and I were dropped off at our home, and the sleek black car didn't leave until we were safely inside. Sherlock collapsed on me nearly immediately, breaths shuddering loudly.
I pulled him against me, feeling the backs of my own eyes burn. "Shh, love, I'm here. I'm here." I couldn't promise it would be alright, it really truly wasn't. All I could do was sink to the floor with the love of my life and hold him while he cried.
I'd not believed that the day would go so incredibly wrong when I'd woken up. No one had.
AN: Everything has changed, but the play continues... 😘 Sorry guys, but at least there was some fluff!