Wedding Photos Part 2 Ethan did his best not to think about the coming photo shoots. It didn't do much good. For the next week and a half, he tried to focus on the work at hand. He found himself becoming even more of a perfectionist. When people had nothing but the Adour shoot and these photos to look at, he didn't want to leave them anything to be overly critical about. Sometimes, he chuckled to himself. If the harpies decided to be critical, the lack of anything concrete to be critical about wouldn't slow them down a bit. For his first job in photography, he'd been the assistant to a fashion photographer whose own bitterness towards the field had strongly informed Ethan's decision to become a photojournalist. Despite having come full circle, he could still hear Mike Connor's voice in his ears, exhorting him to stay the hell away from people in the fashion business even as he snapped pictures of fashion models for fashion magazines. Mike had been pleasantly surprised when Ethan had elected to go to school for photojournalism and elated when he'd won his Pulitzer. Ethan debated calling him and asking his advice. He knew that Mike could be discreet, too. But, he either couldn't bring himself to tell anyone about Renee or couldn't decide how much not to tell. Besides, Mike would probably just say that he wasn't surprised by such goings on. And, since Ethan had already decided to go ahead with the wedding and the shoot for Substance, he wasn't sure what good Mike's advice would do him anyway. When Renee called to tell him who the other model would be, Ethan immediately threw out most of the ideas he'd had for the shoot and, over the course of the next four hours, sat at his desk and came up with a hundred new ones. The check from Wayne Vandevoort had come back with incredible haste. Two days after sending the invoice out, Ethan had opened his door to find a special courier waiting for him to sign and receive the check. When he thought about how much amusement Wayne had probably gotten from writing it, he had to fight the urge to tear it up. It wasn't much of a fight, though. Ethan needed to update his equipment for the shoot with Sondra. When he'd first opened his studio, Ethan had made a list of what he would buy as he got the money to do so. Still, he hesitated and dithered, considering other options. It was more money than he'd ever had at one time, far more than he expected to accumulate any time soon. If he regretted how he used it, he might have to wait a long time before he could correct his mistakes. Still, in the end, he steeled himself, closed his eyes, and decided that, if one photo shoot could make or break his career, he'd better have the best. It paid off immediately when Sondra showed up. Dressed in baggy pants, a loose-fitting men's dress shirt, baseball cap, and sunglasses, she still managed to carry herself with a poise more appropriate to a golden age movie star or a queen than an R & B chanteuse. The poise lasted just long enough for her to see the new camera Ethan had bought. In that moment, her eyes widened and a broad smile lit up her whole face, "Is that a Hasselblad 205FCC?" she asked. Ethan smiled back, finding her enthusiasm infectious, "Yeah. I just picked it up this week. This will be the first shoot I use it on." Sondra approached, hands extended in a way that told Ethan she wanted to touch it, but was afraid to. "It's beautiful," she said, wonder clear in her voice. Then, she looked at Ethan, "I have the H1. I know I shouldn't. It is too much camera for a dilettante like me, but..." There was a look of pained longing on her face now. Ethan lifted the camera free of its tripod and offered it to her, "Well, if you have the H1, you know how to handle one of these. The chassis is very similar." Sondra looked up at him, seeking permission to take the camera. He smiled again and gestured for her to take it. She did, holding it like it was a sacred relic, eyes shining. After a moment to look over the lens, Sondra raised the camera to her face. She looked around the studio. With the camera pointed out the window, she clicked. Pointing at the office area, she adjusted the focus. Another click. Then, she turned it on Ethan. As she adjusted the lens to bring him into clarity, Ethan felt self-conscious. Despite his fascination with cameras from an early age, he'd never liked having his own picture taken. "You're very stiff," Sondra said, lowering the camera. "This makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry." Ethan couldn't help but laugh. Sondra gave him a quizzical look as she reattached the camera to the tripod. "I'm going to have to watch myself with you," Ethan said by way of explanation. Sondra smiled, although Ethan could see she wasn't sure what he was talking about. He was just as glad that the buzzer rang and he didn't have to explain. "That will be the other model," said Ethan. For reason's she hadn't bothered to explain to Ethan, Renee had chosen to keep Sondra in the dark as to the other woman's identity. She followed him to the office area and watched the elevator door anxiously, lips slightly parted. When Ethan opened the door, the woman who stepped out wasn't immediately identifiable. Wearing black sweatpants, a black t-shirt, and a black denim jacket buttoned up in spite of the warmth of late spring, she'd topped off her outfit with sunglasses and a scarf wrapped around her head, showing not even a hint of her trademark white hair. Still, it would have been impossible to hide her long limbs or the preternatural paleness of her hands. After a couple of seconds staring at her, Sondra asked, "Stitch?" Chastity Carter, in the middle of unwrapping her scarf, smiled, "Heya, Sonny. Long time no see." Sondra laughed and hugged her, "Renee got you to do this?" Chastity chuckled, "It didn't take much convincing. I've been angling to get out of my contract with the holy rollers and moneychangers...and this will certainly do that." As she spoke, she unbuttoned the jacket. Underneath, she wore a black silk blouse in sharp contrast to her unblemished, white skin. As Ethan took her jacket, she removed her sunglasses, hanging them on the pocket. The eyes underneath were a radiant, almost primary blue thanks to contact lenses hiding their natural, pink color. "You look happy to see me," said Chastity, giving her friend a lopsided grin. "I am." Sondra smiled at her again. "Good," said Chastity. "That was the one part I wasn't so sure about." "It's weird," said Sondra. "It's going to be weird anyway, like fooling around with my sister or something." "Renee said you two have known each other for a while," said Ethan. "But, she didn't say how." "Our choirs had an exchange program when we were growing up," said Sondra. "I stayed with Stitch and her family in for like a week when I was eleven or twelve. We got along so well, I spent every summer there until I signed with Mad Dog." "When I told Mom and Dad we were doing this, they told me to say hi--and to return your jacket." said Chastity. Ethan had meant to let the two friends talk, but he couldn't help himself, "You told your parents about this shoot?" Chastity turned to face him, "Yeah. Don't worry. They'll keep their mouths shut." "I, um...." said Ethan. Sondra laughed, "I think Ethan's surprised your parents would approve." Chastity smiled, "Don't believe what you read about me. I sing gospel because it's pretty and that's who offered me a contract. I love the music, but hate the business. At the top, it's just like the rest of the music industry. They'll still fuck you, literally and figuratively, whenever they get a chance, but they'll wrap it in sanctimonious bullshit as if that makes it better." Sondra smiled up at Ethan, "Stitch's folks are really cool. At least, her mom and her stepdad are. Her father's...an unpleasant individual." "He saddled me with the name. Do you have any kids, Ethan?" Ethan shook his head. "If you ever have a little girl and want her to grow up to be a total freak, name her Chastity." "I'll...keep that in mind," said Ethan uncertainly. "Where can I change out of this?" asked Chastity, indicating her clothes. Ethan pointed her to the changing room, "Everything that was delivered for the shoot is in there if you want to look it over. If you can change into the robes on the back of the door and wash off any makeup you're wearing, I'd like to go over some possibilities for the shoot." "Possibilities?" asked Sondra, raising an eyebrow. Ethan nodded, "I've got a lot of ideas. I want to know what you two are going to be comfortable with." Sondra looked puzzled. Chastity said, "He's offering us choices. You remember those from before we signed with the labels." "Oh," said Sondra, seemingly unruffled. "All right then." Chastity rolled her eyes and headed into the dressing room. Before following her friend, Sondra smiled at Ethan, "Don't let the tough talk fool you. Stitch is really a sweetheart." Then, she was on the other side of the door, leaving Ethan to wonder what tough talk Sondra had meant. -=- A fair amount of giggling emerged from the dressing room before Sondra and Chastity did. Ethan, fussing with his equipment in the studio, had to laugh to himself and admit that Renee had chosen well in pairing Chastity with Sondra. There was the strong physical contrast that would make Ethan's job much easier, of course. But, he hadn't dared expect there to be this much chemistry. Sondra's public image was classy and tasteful. The word he'd heard used over and over to describe her was "chanteuse." He'd been hoping that she could relax enough that the pictures didn't look too forced. He hadn't expected to hear her giggling. They emerged dressed in the robes Ethan had provided. Other than color, they were identical. He'd picked the royal blue one for Chastity, the black for Sondra, but they'd decided to reverse them between themselves. Sondra looked amazing, but that was hardly surprising. Ethan could have scrubbed off all her makeup and dressed her in a burlap sack and still sold a half million magazines. Chastity was a little bit trickier. She was undeniably beautiful, but her beauty was fragile, easily spoiled by a bad color combination or unflattering lighting. The black robe was a great example of how bad she could look. It made some nice contrasts with her hair, but her skin, already nearly translucent, looked bruised where it touched the cloth and her eyes just looked tired this way. As they sat and listened, Ethan laid out the ideas he'd come up with for posing them. Sondra didn't reject any of his ideas, but did occasionally suggest ways in which they could be better. Chastity rejected about half, each with an abrupt shake of her head, and the single syllable, "No." Ethan began to notice a pattern in what she rejected, but couldn't be sure. To check his hypothesis, he suggested a set that, while extremely tame, made Chastity the focus rather than Sondra. Halfway through the third sentence, Chastity shook her head, "No." Ethan sighed and rubbed his eyes, "I think it would work well. It might even be a full-page opposite the title." Chastity shook her head a little bit harder, "I don't like it." Ethan leaned in a little, "How would you suggest we change it to make it better?" Chastity looked flustered. She turned to Sondra, who just shrugged at her. Sighing, she said, "What if it was Sondra in the foreground and me in the background?" Ethan frowned, "We've already got enough of those. I'd like to do a few focused on you." Chastity shook her head again, "We should focus on Sondra. She's prettier than me." Ethan laughed, "Sondra's prettier than everyone. But, you're still a beautiful woman and people want to see you." Sondra blushed and Chastity didn't say anything. Ethan allowed himself to look puzzled, "You do know you're beautiful, don't you?" "Of course," said Chastity. But, there was enough defiance in her voice to give lie to the words. Ethan let them hang in the air long enough to start to become uncomfortable. "That's why your stylist at Sweet Salvation should be shot," said Ethan. "Or maybe crucified if that would be more appropriate." Chastity let out a snort of laughter before covering her mouth in embarrassment. When she pulled her hand away, she asked, "What do you mean?" "What do you think is the most flattering color for you?" Ethan asked. "Black," said Chastity immediately. Ethan started to answer, but saw Sondra shaking her head sadly and decided to sit back. "Black makes you look sick," said Sondra. Rising to her feet, she slid the robe from her shoulders, "Try this on. It would look much better on you." At his first job, Ethan had learned the art of not staring. He used it now. Sondra Adour was standing completely naked and seemingly unconcerned in his studio. Millions of men would pay to see what he was seeing now. Sondra seemed unfazed, as if she had decided Ethan was trustworthy or harmless. She didn't even look his way, instead watching her friend and holding out the robe. Chastity seemed to want to bolt, but after a couple of seconds, launched herself out of her seat, undoing her sash and sliding out of her robe as she did, letting it fall back into her chair. As she wrapped herself in the blue robe, she grumbled, "Blue is so not my color." Sondra took her friend by the shoulders and led her to a full-length mirror. Ethan picked up the discarded black robe and handed it to Sondra as Chastity looked at herself in the mirror, "I don't see it." Sondra wrapped the robe around her shoulders, "Can I show her--with makeup?" "Be my guest," said Ethan. He didn't know if Sondra could do what he had in mind, but he could make suggestions if he disagreed with her aesthetic sensibilities. As it turned out, he needn't have worried. Sondra's instincts were dead on. After hearing "I still don't see it" for the third time, she ordered Chastity to close her eyes until she was done. As Ethan watched, he realized that Sondra's work was actually better than what he'd envisioned. Ethan had planned to work in primary blue with hints of violet to hint at a normal flesh tone. Sondra had gone the other way, starting with primary blue and working in hints of green. Instead of making her look more like anyone else, Sondra was coaxing out an otherwordly beauty that was wholly alien to normal sensibilities, but beautiful in a way that transcended trends. Ethan allowed himself a small smirk. He knew part of why he didn't think of this color scheme. There was something positively pagan about the look. Ethan smiled, thinking how that would play with the gospel crowd. "Can I open my eyes yet?" asked Chastity. "Open them," said Sondra, grinning. "I look like a Martian," said Chastity. But, there was no malice in it. Her tone of voice said what her words wouldn't. "You look like Freyja," said Sondra solemnly, "Viking goddess of love and fertility--the most beautiful and propitious of all the goddesses. You're going to make me famous." Chastity laughed, "You're already famous." Sondra nodded, "I know. But, you're going to make me famous for what I see inside myself." As she spoke, she continued to apply makeup to the upper part of Chastity's chest. "That's got to be a lot less work than the first part has been." Chastity laughed again, "You're crazy. You know that. Right?" Sondra nodded and slid the makeup case towards Ethan, "Absolutely. Now, try not to smear any of that until we're done shooting you." So saying, she sat down, tilted her head back, and closed her eyes. Ethan hadn't planned on needing to help Sondra with her makeup, but it felt like she'd issued him a challenge as if saying, "Show me you know how to do this." She kept her eyes closed and didn't speak until Ethan was finished. He stepped back, "What do you think?" Sondra opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. Her lips curled up in a slight smile, "Very nice." Ethan allowed himself to exhale a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. It wasn't a transformative job like Sondra had done on Chastity. If the young pop star had been too effusive about it, the compliment she'd paid Chastity would lose some of its magic. Instead, she'd given Ethan exactly the measured response he'd been hoping for. Once in the studio, the girls seemed eager to pose. Neither of them had much modeling experience. Coupled with the almost-constant giggling, it made things go slowly at first. But, they listened well and even had some good suggestions as to what would look good. The day wore on as Ethan took hundreds of pictures. The girls were exceedingly fast learners and eventually settled down. Ethan's shoots focused on shots that elicited the innocent physicality between girls who were friends. For the most part, the pictures contained no overt sexuality, but would make all but the most unimaginative viewer wonder what was going on just below the surface. He'd wanted something genuinely unique for the front cover, but the one image that kept going through his head, while derivative, was so stunning that it took on a life of its own. It was far more risque than anything else they'd done so far, but Sondra and Chastity agreed to it eagerly. At least, they were eager until they got in front of the camera. Ethan had offered them the small, discreet patches that kept them from exposing any of the parts that would push this photo shoot into the realm of pornography, but both had demurred. Now, Sondra stood in front of the camera dressed in blue jeans and nothing else, her raven-black hair pulled behind her ears and cascading straight down her back. Chastity was standing a few inches behind Sondra, dressed wearing jeans and a loose-fitting tank top. She didn't seem quite willing to press against Sondra's bare back nor did she seem to know where to rest her hands. "Maybe we should get those pads..." Chastity suggested. Without looking, Sondra reached back, caught her friend by the forearms, drew her forward and, after a brief struggle, placed Chastity's hands firmly over her breasts. "Sunny!" Chastity said indignantly. "Hush," said Sondra smiling. "That's a half-million dollar feel you're copping there, two hundred fifty thousand dollars a breast." That seemed to break the ice. Chastity giggled again, pressed herself more evenly against Sondra's back and rested her head on her friend's shoulder. In some shots, Sondra raised her hands over her head and Chastity appeared as only a pair of arms. It was an obvious homage to the Janet Jackson Rolling Stone cover some years earlier, but different enough not to be entirely derivative. At Sondra's suggestion, they even swapped positions for a few shots. "All right," said Ethan finally. "I think we've got everything we need." Sondra rose from her stool, "Okay. What's next?" "That's it," said Ethan. "We've already got far more than Substance wants." Sondra frowned, "I think we need to do a few more." Ethan started reloading the Hasselblad, "What did you have in mind?" Sondra tilted her head, "Ethan, have you heard my love song?" Ethan shook his head. Sondra stood up a little straighter. Without warming up, she came in at near-perfect pitch. For the next two minutes, Sondra Adour stood in the middle of his studio, dressed only in blue jeans, and sang a capella for him. No matter how jaded he might have become, Ethan recognized that this might be the most sublimely wonderful moment of his adult life. It was only slightly modulated by the content of the song, which was both a love song and a gauntlet thrown in the face of some abusive man. Based on the refrain, the song seemed to be called, "You Can't Keep Your Woman Away From Me." The music and lyrics wouldn't have sounded out of place if they'd been recorded by a turn-of-the-century bluesman. When she stopped singing, she asked Ethan, "Does that sound like a song you want to accompany with the pictures we've gotten so far?" Ethan shook his head, "Tell me what you want to do." "It would be easier to show you," said Sondra. Turning to Chastity, she asked, "Do you trust me, Stitch?" Chastity nodded and opened her mouth to answer. But, before words could come out, Sondra had strode purposefully over to Chastity, buried a hand in her hair, arched her head back, and kissed her exposed throat. She flashed a glance at Ethan, who realized he was standing and staring, not taking pictures. Stepping behind the camera, he started snapping quickly. Rather than distracting them when he ran out of film, Ethan switched to his digital camera. It wasn't as good as analog, but he'd invested a big hunk of Vandevoort money making sure it was almost as good. Practically ignoring him, Sondra had forced Chastity to her knees, kissing her neck and shoulders fiercely. Ethan kept moving around to try to get pictures that would be printable. Once Chastity was down, Sondra continued to drag her down until she was supine. Straddling her, Sondra reached down, gripped firmly with both hands and, with one mighty tug, tore the tank top down the middle. When Chastity looked to Ethan, she seemed to be beseeching him to save her. But, when Sondra placed her own knees between Chastity's legs, Chastity locked her own legs around her friend's waist, undulating against her. In slow motion, Sondra lowered herself until she was pressed almost nose-to-nose against Chastity, their bodies molded together so that there seemed to be no inch of one that was not touching the other. Both were still wearing blue jeans and nothing else. For a span of two dozen seconds, the only sound in the studio was the whir of Ethan's camera and Chastity's breathing as she stared into Sondra's eyes. Inch by inch, Sondra lowered her head until her lips were nearly touching Chastity's. She held that pose for a few more seconds before swooping down, not kissing at first, but biting Chastity's lower lip hard enough to elicit a moan and make her friend's body arch like an electrical current had gone through her. Even when it became a kiss, it was still savage, a claiming more than anything else. If a man had done a tenth of what Sondra had done, the whole shoot would have been ruined. Such an obvious glorification of sexual assault would never be tolerated. As it stood, it was awfully risky even with two women. Still lying pressed on top of Chastity, Sondra turned her head to Ethan, "Do you think you have enough pictures now?" Ethan nodded, unsure of his own voice. She sat up, still straddling Chastity, "I should go then. I need to get back to my hotel." She rose to her feet, looking down at Chastity, who didn't move a muscle. "Would you like to come along, Stitch?" From where he was standing, Ethan could feel the heat in the offer like a physical force. But, Chastity sat up, looked Sondra in the eyes, and said, "No, sweetie. I don't think so...Not tonight." Sondra reached down, helped Chastity to her feet, and wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her tight, "Are you sure?" Chastity nodded. Regretfully, Sondra released her. For the next fifteen minutes, the women gathered up their things. When both had everything they'd brought with them, Sondra stood at the front door, she turned again to Chastity, "Will you be in New York a while, Stitch?" Chastity nodded, "Yeah--two weeks....I...I'll call you tomorrow." Turning to Ethan, Sondra hugged him. It was the sort of hug one gave an intimate friend, warm and full-bodied. With her lips right next to his ear, she whispered, "Don't destroy any of those pictures until I've seen them, please." Ethan nodded and was rewarded with a final squeeze before Sondra went out the door. Whatever Ethan was about to say to Chastity, he forgot it as she wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing herself against him. Reflexively, his arms went around her shoulders, trying to be comforting. But, she was kissing his neck and worrying at his buttons. "Chastity..." he said weakly, reaching for her wrists. "Shut up, Ethan," she growled. Ethan looked down at her, beautiful and alien. Sondra had called her Freyja, but to his eyes she looked more like some sort of sea goddess. A man could be drowned if he held her too tightly. Seeming to sense his hesitation, Chastity demanded, "Do you think I'm beautiful, Ethan?" Ethan nodded, trusting his voice even less than before. Pulling her wrists out of his grip, she undid the topmost button of his shirt, "Then, shut up and fuck me or I'm going to scream." When he was younger, Ethan had learned the trick of wanting a woman in the abstract. It was usually easy. Models who had been doing their jobs for a while knew how to look sexy without actually being sexy if they didn't want to. Ethan had taught Chastity and Sondra how to do that as well as he could, but it hadn't been enough to overcome whatever vibe was passing between them. He'd managed, with great effort, to be professional throughout the shoot, focusing on the pictures he was getting rather than what he was watching. But now, with Chastity pressed against him, ready and demanding, his desire for her was far from abstract. He knew that her lust wasn't for him, but it didn't matter. Sliding his hands under her, he carried her away from the door back to his big oak antique desk, sitting her on the edge. Chastity was already making guttural animal noises in her throat by the time Ethan reached down and stripped off her t-shirt, his head descending to her breast, tongue running a trail from ribs to nipple before catching it between his lips and sucking gently on it. Her moan echoed off the walls. Ethan unbuttoned her pants and took the waistband in both hands. As Chastity leaned back across the desk and raised her hips, she must have leaned against the flat-screened monitor there because Ethan heard it clatter to the floor in a crash of broken glass. Without missing a beat, Ethan shucked off her jeans. "Ethan," Chastity gasped. "Your monitor..." Ethan took her bottom in his hands, kneading the flesh and pressing her womanhood against his belly. Lowering his head to kiss her neck, he whispered, "A suitable sacrifice for a favor from a goddess. Don't you think?" Chastity nodded against him, but a second later, her body shuddered in a way that could be either tears or laughter. Ethan tensed and held her, teetering on the edge of lust and concern. Then, she giggled. Ethan's shoulders sagged in relief. A second later, he laughed as well. "God," said Chastity, placing a kiss on his shoulder. "That was pretty corny, Ethan." Ethan nodded over her, still laughing, "I meant it, but it did sound a lot better before I actually said it." That could have been the end of it, but she ran her fingers through his hair, drawing him down into a fierce kiss. When she broke it, she took his bottom lip between her teeth before pulling away. Sitting back on his desk, her legs wrapped around his waist, Chastity looked up at him, "I think I like you, Ethan." Ethan kissed her forehead, "I believe I've acquired a good deal of fondness for you as well, Chastity." "Good," she said, unbuttoning his pants. "Because I need this right now and it would be worse later if I couldn't stand you." Ethan nodded. He might not have wanted to put it in such stark terms, but he knew his place here. Stepping out of his pants, he pressed himself against the entrance to her flesh. Even before he could thrust, Chastity arched her back, impaling herself on him. When Ethan did thrust into her, she pushed back. Each point of contact was like an assault, but Ethan who have been hard pressed to say who was assaulting whom. For a long time, she kept her legs around his waist as if trying to crush him, leaning her weight on her palms behind her back. When her first orgasm hit, her arms gave out. Ethan's hand, pressed in the center of her back, lowered her gently to the surface of the desk. She fought him a little until he guided her legs up along his torso, her ankles up by his ears. Chastity nodded emphatically, "Oh, yeah. That's nice." Ethan nodded. His self-control was already getting ragged. Compliments didn't help. He tried to focus his mind on unsexy trivialities of the photography business and had just regained his rhythm when Chastity's second orgasm rocked her body. In the middle of it, she opened her eyes. For the first time since he'd met Chastity, Ethan saw unshielded emotion there, even through the contact lenses. That he saw awe and fear there just pushed him over the edge faster. He exploded inside her with a strangled cry that was an admixture of triumph and loss. Panting heavily, he looked down at Chastity, his hands still stroking her belly and ribs. She trembled and closed her eyes, closing off the brief look he'd had at what was behind them. Finally, not trusting his own legs, he slid his jeans back on and sat down heavily in his desk chair. Leaning down, he kissed Chastity gently on the ribs, then on the breast. Her body still writhed to an internal rhythm he couldn't hear. When he took her nipple in his mouth again, she pressed him more tightly against her flesh, shuddering a little harder. When she finally opened her eyes, most of the old wariness was back. She sat up, breaking physical contact, slid off his desk, and started collecting her clothes. "Can I use your shower again?" she asked. Ethan nodded silently. Without another word, Chastity disappeared into the changing room. Ethan sat back and looked down at his shattered monitor on the floor. As much as had happened today, he felt oddly emotionless, as if he'd used up his ability to feel and been emptied out. When Chastity emerged, she was dressed all in black again, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. She carried the jacket and scarf over her arm, though, leaving her hair and arms exposed. Not putting her clothes down, she leaned in to where Ethan was sitting and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Thanks, Ethan," she said quietly. "I'll see you around."