Donna had teased Harvey a thousand times about what a horrible gift-giver he was. Since they'd been together, he'd begun to slowly chip away at her perception.

Somehow, now, he knew how to throw a well-timed surprise her way. Tickets to sold-out plays, a subscription service for her favorite wine, a private dinner at her favorite restaurant, the hottest new toy in the bedroom, or finding her favorite childhood movie online when she thought it was long ago lost.

Maybe, he'd never been bad at it. Maybe he'd just never let himself feel enough to figure it out. Or maybe she'd been afraid to remember him escorting her to her closing night with a bouquet of flowers, or taking her on a shopping spree for shoes and handbags.

It's obvious he gets as much from it as she does, and that alone makes whatever he does even more thrilling. So when he comes home the Thursday night before Valentine's day with a box wrapped in a red satin ribbon, she grins at the possibilities of what's inside.

She'd made him promise not to go with anything cliche. No lingerie, no chocolate, no jewelry. "Isn't this a night early for gifts?" she scolds as she holds it between her hands with a smile.

"Not for this one. Open it," he insists with a grin.

She shakes her head and removes the lid of the ribboned box, finding tissue paper inside. As she peels back the thin layers she stares at the contents.

Flutters and annoyance tie in her stomach, a war between butterflies and forming knots. "Harvey, vibrating panties?" She tosses the gift box to the coffee table, holding the sex toy packaging in her hands.

"Remote-controlled vibrating panties," he corrects.

Her lips part, amusement, intrigue, and other things resting on her breath. "Why?" she asks simply instead.

"So I can please you when I want."

She wants to make the grin he's wearing disappear because she can already feel the results of it between her legs, without the panties. "And you can't do that already?"

"Not at work."

"Um, you can't do that at work with this either." She drops the box to the couch, walking her way to the kitchen. She pours herself a glass of water, gulping it down.

"Why's that?" he asks, teasingly.

She opens her mouth to make a quip about him already accomplishing it in the copy room that one time but refrains, rethinking how quickly that direction could get out of hand. "I'm not even going to honor that question with a response."

He bends his head, stepping close so she's backed against the counter and his lower half is just touching. "Are you turned off by the idea? Or just nervous." His voice is low and deep, the words seeming to draw attention to each syllable from his lips.

She knows which she is now. "Not turned off," she admits.

"Is this one of those, you want to do it but you think you shouldn't so you're waiting for me to convince you things?" He finishes off the words with a press forward of his groin and she gasps.

Her eyes flutter, taking far too long to recover and when she does, he's wearing that huge grin. "I hate you," she says with a pout.

"Is that a code for yes?"

Asshole. "You bought these knowing I would say yes, didn't you?"

"Do you want me to say no to that?"

"What if someone hears them?"

"They say on the box they're whisper silent."

"What if I…" She shifts her feet.

"It's a tease, Donna. I'm not going to put you in an uncomfortable position."

She shakes her head. The idea of him in control and in public is twinging between her legs, like a devil tempting her into the fire. His grin is also devilish and not helping. "Fine."

"Really?"

"You were all cocky about it and now you're surprised?"

"I love you."

And then he's pressing into her with mouth and hips, her fully consumed and tempted into his wicked desire.

The plan had been to put them on when they had some free time because she wasn't trusting his impulse control when it came to sex. Unfortunately for both it didn't work out the way they'd planned. The workday ended up much too busy to focus much on panties and play. Louis had some kind of surprise event planned that evening far out of town, and with the entire office invited, everyone was doing their best to get done early.

When Harvey finally does get a free moment and sends a text to check if she's free, she quickly figures out the small flaw in the plan.

Harvey hadn't read the specs on the stupid device to figure out it couldn't reach from his office to hers.

He calls her immediately, annoyance clear in his voice.

"You realize if I was still managing partner, these would work," he complains, referring to the fact Louis's office was next door to hers, which would be in range.

"Well, you're not, so they won't."

"Louis is going to owe me for this. I've been waiting all day."

"Harvey, it's not his fault."

"I could find an excuse to hang out in his office…"

"You will not be getting me off looking at his face." She shudders at the thought as she ends the call.

She curses herself for not taking the time to investigate before wearing, which is normally something she'd do. If she hadn't been distracted by utilizing their perfect height countertop the night before, she might have paid closer attention.

By the time they get home they are both stressed from a long day and focused on getting ready for Louis's event. The weather is still cool at night, and since Louis said to prepare for the outdoors she settles on a sweater dress and thick leggings. She lays them out on the bed along with his choice of slacks and the sweater she'd bought for him right when they'd returned from Seattle.

She stands in front of the bathroom mirror in her bra and panties, working on touching up her makeup when he comes up from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist. He rests his lips on her neck, breathing her in and nuzzling there.

He groans. "God, I was waiting for this all day."

She leans against him, savoring the feel of being wrapped up in his arms. "Harvey we're in a hurry," she whines, more convincing herself than him.

"Do you realize how much I've been tortured today?" He meets her eyes in the mirror and they linger on each other.

She grins, looking away shyly, a blush in her cheeks. "You know we've been together for months now right? Shouldn't the eagerness be dying down?"

His face turns serious. "The eagerness is never dying down."

Her lips part and she swallows at the hungry look in his eyes.

"It's Valentine's Day. Can't we bail on Louis's stupid party?"

She shakes her head, disentangling from him and heading over to the bed. She pulls on her dress. "We'd never hear the end of it." She picks up her leggings, heading to the settee to put them on.

He comes to stand in front of her, pants slightly tented near her face, a hand pulling out fabric from his slacks and dangling it in front of her. "Put these on first." It's more than a suggestion.

She stares at them, biting her lip. "You were just carrying those in your pocket?"

He shrugs.

She pulls in a breath, shaking her head. "An event is different than alone in my office, Harvey."

"I'll be close enough you can give me a signal if it's too much. Come on. Wear them."

She stares up at him, arching a brow. There's something subservient about their current state and that alone makes her want him to command more.

"Please," he corrects, smashing his lips to hide the amusement.

She hesitates. He studies her, and the poker-like gaze makes her sit up a bit straighter.

"Nevermind," he says, pulling them back and out of reach.

She stands and stretches toward them, plucking them out of his hands and slipping off her fresh pair and replacing them with the vibrating ones. He was daring her and she knows it. And she should be too mature and less foolish to fall for it but she also knows a part of her… wants to. There's a part of being with Harvey that still yanks her off of her secure footing sexually and, admit it or not, the intrigue of that gets her more excited. And it hadn't failed her yet.

He's grinning widely now, and she already regrets giving in as she adjusts so it's cupping her clit and then pulls on her leggings and winter boots. His hands are in his pockets, rocking on his heels and when she begins to walk away to get her purse, the first buzz hits and she nearly jumps.

Then, it's quickly gone again.

She swings her head back long enough to give him a warning stare and he flashes his palms to assure her safety for the moment. She rolls her eyes, telling him to hurry and finish getting dressed. Soon they're both heading out the door to their waiting car.

With a wave of nervousness and the slightest hint of a thrill, Donna slips into the back seat. Harvey closes the door behind her.

She waves to Ray and sighs, trying to let out some of her anxious nerves when Harvey joins from the other side.

Ray pulls away from the curb, the car's heat warming them up.

Harvey stares ahead for a moment in the silence, then turns to her. "You know you can back out of this."

"And face Louis's breakdown over us not showing up? No thank you."

"That's not what I meant." He bends his head.

"Too scared to go through with it?" she teases, though maybe she is. It's pressing against her, a constant reminder that he can make her come with the press of a button.

His lips curve as he side-eyes her, a thrilled look on his face that sends heat between her legs and makes her squirm in her seat to relieve it.

That attempt fails.

She's not sure whether being his toy or the item shifting against her clit causes the most trouble.

They ride the forty-five-minute drive from Manhattan to Brooklyn, the mood filled with tension and sappy love songs on the radio. Harvey's not a fan but Donna is and he's not about to push any extra buttons to set her off tonight.

They arrive at the event, parking on the side street like Louis instructed, watching several couples filter in around the corner. A banner of white lights can be seen above it, and a live band singing, "Endless Love" can be heard in the distance.

As they round the corner Donna can finally see what the sign says.

First Annual Litt Up For Love

"We're leaving," Harvey says as he starts to turn back around.

"Oh no you don't. If I have to face this, you do too." She hooks her arm tightly around his and pulls him toward the street.

"You sure you're ready for this?" he asks, curiosity on his face.

"Find me drinks. Quickly."

He grins and they walk through the street, and are immediately accosted by an entire court so brightly lit they nearly cover their eyes from its brilliance.

Louis may have needed a warning sign some of the blinking lights could induce seizures. This was like an overdone Christmas light street display for Valentine's Day, on a scale of sickening proportions.

Strands are scalloped across the street the entire way, with lit-up hearts and lips created by lights around all the light posts, giant inflatable cupids, entire rooftops decked out in red, white, and pink lights, and more wooden painted love-themed cut-outs than they could count.

At the end of the court, stood Louis, in a giant red hat with a fake arrow through it and red pants, passing out Sweetheart themed cookies and glasses of champagne with the word "Litt" on the front. The dot on the "i" blinking, because why not.

"Welcome to the first annual Litt Up For Love extravaganza!" He immediately shoves a cookie and glass into an unsuspecting woman's hands and wraps Harvey tightly in a surprise hug.

Harvey stands in panic while Donna gives him mercy, greeting Louis and pulling his attention.

Louis hugs her next. "I'm so glad you both made it," he says with a huge grin.

"First, as in, you really expect people to come back a second time?" Harvey groans.

Louis's face falls, and Donna elbows Harvey in the stomach as a warning.

"Um, what is this Louis?" she asks.

"It's my first annual Litt Up For Love. Didn't you see the sign?" Louis asks with a now even bigger grin that takes up half his lower face.

"Yes, but. You don't live here," she points out.

"I bought this house," he points behind him, "just so I could hold events and things for Lucy on all the major holidays. Isn't it amazing?"

"Valentine's Day isn't a major holiday," Harvey snarks.

"Of course it is. Have you no heart, Harvey?" Louis sounds wounded.

"This is the most ridicul—"

"Ridiculously beautiful gesture, Louis," Donna corrects, giving Harvey a warning eye. "Where is she?"

"Oh, all the kids are inside being put to bed with Disney movies. I hired a nanny team of Cupids."

"Of course he did," Harvey says under his breath.

Donna smiles at Louis. "So. Bar?" She hopes stronger alcohol will help tone things down.

Louis points it out and Harvey leaves to get her drinks, from a bar that is also covered in lights as well as surrounded by cloud benches.

While he's gone, Louis introduces her to several of his new neighbors, and immediately she sees exactly what type of people would agree to doubling their electric bills for a Hallmark holiday. Enthusiastic people. People with a lot of money and time on their hands.

Harvey returns with drinks and after Louis insists they get their photo taken of their first Valentine's day as a married couple next to a giant heart of roses with a bubble machine blowing around them, they head to a fire pit with several heaters scattered around.

She's on her second drink, chatting with Samantha when a buzz between her legs makes her stand up straighter. It disappears quickly and suddenly the nerves she'd nearly forgotten return. She catches Harvey out of the corner of her eye, watching her for a reaction. She ignores him, bracing herself and continuing the conversation. She finishes her drink quickly, replacing it with another.

Five minutes later and she's feeling it again, this time for a bit longer than the first.

The sensations between her legs are way more familiar than expected. Much like another toy surprise he'd gifted her. It doesn't just vibrate, it nearly feels like a fluttering suction and that alone makes her wish she'd given this more thought. Vibrators, take time. This, this, could end very hard and very quickly, and she's building up with each tease.

He remains talking to a couple of Louis's high profile clients while the vibrations have remained on, the intensity increasing in a slow but torturous pace. Her legs begin to shift, and her coat is starting to feel too heavy.

Samantha raises a brow. "You okay there, Donna?"

"I'm just freezing."

"You're flushed," Samantha not-so-usefully points out.

"Pale skin," she manages badly, Samantha arching a brow.

They finally end, and she takes the moment to take in some slow breaths and will the nerves between her legs to calm down.

Some of the fifth years are chatting with her when the next one hits. Her eyes go wide and this time she's considering telling him she's had enough. Instead, she reassures herself that they'll end soon and she'll start to recover again.

But, for some reason, this time the vibrations aren't going away. She looks to Harvey for relief but he's not looking, only wearing the hint of a grin and she's starting to sweat.

The pace is climbing and she's finding standing harder than she expected. She's thankful for the band playing and the myriad of blinking lights everywhere, distracting and blinding the crowds of Louis's new faux-neighbors, clients, and friends. She manages to excuse herself.

She looks to Harvey again and the men around him are engaged in whatever story he's telling them, along with standing way too close. Feeling too stubborn to interrupt him to beg she decides to find the most private spot on the court or to maybe get far enough out of range to shut this torture device off.

She goes to find Louis, but before she makes it to him, it jumps up a level. "Oh god!" she yells out, her clit nearly throbbing.

The very stern-looking couple beside her stand with mouths agape as she breathes and tries to control the response below.

"...is good," she continues and then shuffles the rest of the way to Louis so she can find somewhere private. She won't last much longer and she's not planning on becoming the talk of the block.

"Louis, bathroom?" she demands quickly.

His eyes scan over her shifting her feet, legs tightly together and points in the direction of the house from earlier and she moves as fast as possible to get inside, searching for doorways. She finally finds one and with her luck it's empty. And a locking bathroom.

She goes inside and locks the door, leaning against it as she flicks the light. She breathes.

Waiting, pressure building. She's ready to kill Harvey and quickly pulls his number up on her phone.

"Where'd you run off to?" he asks.

"Harvey, what the fuck!"

"Huh?"

"It's...still...going."

"What?"

"Oh. God," she draws out, her legs beginning to shake.

"Oh. I turned it off. You're not even in range."

"Ohhhhh." She pauses, catching her breath. "Harvey, do something!"

"Uh, are you alone?"

"Yesss."

"Then come," he whispers in the line.

She doesn't have time to tell him that's not going to shut this thing off because suddenly her belly grows tight and waves of strong and direct pleasure build, again and again, her center gripping in tight pulses.

The device doesn't seem to care she's already come because it's not letting up. She's getting desperate because now she's at peak sensitivity and electric fire is between her legs. The stimulation is way too much and she can't get her bearings long enough to do something about it.

"Donna?"

"Fuck, Harvey. Make it stop!" Her voice is bordering on mania.

"Okay," he says calmly. "Look, it must have malfunctioned."

"You think?!"

"Take off your panties."

She grunts and groans and starts yanking at her pants. The toy finally unlatches and she's shaking on the bathroom floor. And suddenly the vibrator is ten times louder and scooting itself against the tiles.

He's actually chuckling on the other end of the line. She's going to kill him.

"I'm sorry," he says.

She can feel pulses in her toes and she's surprised she didn't squirt all over the floor. "What the hell do I do with them now?"

"They can't stay charged forever."

"Harvey!"

"Fine, just...they're not waterproof, right? Put them under the faucet."

She sighs, thinking this is the most ridiculous experience of her life. She manages to stand on very weak legs, and puts them in the sink and turns on the water full blast. For not being waterproof they'd been thoroughly soaked.

Soon, the whirring of the toy slows and it suffers a whiny and slow death.

"All fixed?" he chances on the other side of the line.

"Not even remotely," she groans.

"Do you really want to use that word?"

"Harvey. Do you know what you just put me through?"

"Pleasure?"

Suddenly she hears a knock on the door. Her pants are bunched up on the floor, drenched panties with a sex toy attached in the sink, but she knows that knock. She unlocks the door and cracks it open, staring into his apologetic eyes.

She pouts. "I'm not pleased."

He walks inside and looks her over. She knows from the mirror she looks like hell. Hair wild, face flushed, makeup smeared.

He bends his head, pity and humor in the gesture. "I owe you a better one then?"

"You owe me ten better ones," she complains.

"Punishment accepted."

They're still for a moment, him grabbing her hands and letting her come down from orgasmic trauma.

"I'm not staying at this party." She turns to the mirror and attempts to smooth her hair.

"Are you saying I was right about leaving?"

She turns to give him a warning glance. "Don't push it."

He turns to the door, reaching for the knob. "I'll make up an excuse to Louis."

"Wait." She grabs his arm.

"What?"

"I…What do I do with the panties?"

They stare at the wet item in the sink.

"Toss them in the trash," he says nonchalantly.

"He and Sheila could see them!"

"And how are they going to know they're yours? It'll give them a good laugh."

She frowns, feeling a bit more vulnerable from this than she expected. He looks her over, stepping closer and pulling her against him. He cups each side of her face, looking into her eyes, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

When he pulls back, he stares into her eyes again. "You okay?"

She pushes out a breath. "I was seriously scared this was going to happen in front of everyone. Now I'm still throbbing between my legs, I'm all shaky, I look a mess, and there's a crowd full of people out there to face."

His hand brushes back some of her hair. "I hate that this made you so stressed."

Her shoulders fall. "This was not how I envisioned our first Valentine's Day."

"Let me make it up to you."

He turns them until her ass bumps the counter, head dipping down until his mouth is pressed into hers. He's soft, brushing and the lightest amount of suction as he nurtures her from her current state, a gradual climb until his tongue is parting her lips, and his body pressing more firmly against hers. When his lips meet her neck and his hands begin to pull at her dress she pushes him back.

"No! The kids could hear if we do it here."

"Uh, Donna. I hate to break this to you but I'm pretty sure if they were going to get an earful, they already did."

She groans.

"I'll tell Louis you're not feeling well and need to lie down somewhere, then we can..."

"No. You know him. He'll end up barging in with 50 different remedies."

"Fine, I'm texting Ray to give us some time in the car. He can enjoy the party and we'll go there."

She pauses, thinking the idea over. "Then, Ray will know."

"You look like you, I'm me, and this is our first Valentine's Day. Trust me, he already knows we're doing it tonight."

She sighs.

"Are all of my suggestions ending in no?"

She shakes her head. "I'm just… Embarrassed. I don't want any other complications tonight."

He frowns. "I want to make out with my wife, and make this up to her. But if you'd rather go home—"

She puts her hand on his chest. "No. Call him."

He breaks into a slow grin and pulls his phone to his ear after pressing a button. "Ray…"

It's a small miracle Harvey manages to get them out of the house without anyone who would pay too much attention seeing them leave. Or at least stopping them long enough to ask where they were going.

They exit the court and Harvey punches in the code for the still-running car, with them stepping in to a heated interior. They remove their coats, then he turns to her, running a strand of her hair between his fingers, looking at her with a mixture of awe and apology before his lips brush hers. He pulls her into a hug. They rest there at first, breathing until their hearts synced into a rhythm.

"I love you," he says, the heat of his breath on her shoulder.

"I love you, too," she answers, hand skimming over his spine in a pattern.

He pulls back enough to burrow his face right below her ear, sucking the skin there until he finds the exact spot that makes her melt. She immediately straddles his lap, giving him easy access to devouring her neck and chest while she runs her fingers in his hair, gripping whenever she found length and pressing him closer.

In no time he's removing her sweater dress over her head to get to more bare skin, and her bra quickly follows. His thumbs skim her erect nipples while she removes his sweater. She explores his chest and flicks his nipples as well, watching him suck in breath. Then, he's devouring every inch of skin on her chest, making heat pull from everywhere on her body and pool directly between her legs. Her head rests against his, pressing kisses along his hairline.

He cups her breasts, lifting one and sucking it deep into his mouth. He's torturous in the friction against it, flicking with his tongue and sucking it between his lips. He lets them free and the air against her wet nipple feels cool as he's sloppily kissing a trail up to her mouth. He pulls her head down to take her lips, and she sinks into it. Messy and searching, need and love all wrapped up together. She feels desperate to be closer, desperate to be caught up and fall from their frenzy in the end.

His hands are searching every inch of her arms and back. Possessive, nurturing, and protective. He starts pulling at her leggings and after kicking off their shoes, she does her best to help them off in the tight space. They work on his pants next and then she's back over him.

He scoots himself back enough until he lays her down in the bench seat. She widens her legs as best she can, bracing one foot against the headrests of the front seat and the other bending over the back. He hooks his arms under her shoulders and scans her face. He's paused there, conveying everything to her in the slight lines etched on his face, and a darkness in his pupils that took her breath away.

In one stroke he's inside her, stretching her completely and stealing her breath. He begins to move in her, them both doing their best to adjust in the cramped space, her insides still hypersensitive from a few minutes before. He gradually increases his pace, his arms pulling her into him as his hips drive her away from his reach.

She's burning up, the heater from the car and the heat that's already building between them consuming the space. His head falls against her skin, lips hungry to find the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulders meet. He's groaning into her; panting. She knows he's getting close and she wants to meet him so she adjusts her legs, hooking them around his back. The angle change lets him go deeper, almost fuller than she can handle and grinding against her clit.

He asks if she's close, and she tells him to let go even if she isn't. In a few more strokes he does. She fully watches him, noticing the pulsing above his brow between his moles, the flushed tone of his skin, the way he loses all pretense of Harvey and is just a man, completely lost in the pleasure of her and each other.

He slows, stilling inside her, and she doesn't even care. She knows they'll chase her orgasm soon enough. She's filled up, in his arms and completely sated.

"Did you?" he asks, worried.

She shakes her head, smiling softly at him and giving him a reassuring kiss.

His mouth bends in disappointment.

"Harvey, it's okay."

"No, it's not." He leans forward, taking her lips. First sucking her bottom lip and then her top. Savoring them, tasting a path with his tongue, and then he moves down her neck. He devours her there, and her desire is quickly coming back.

He lowers, taking time at each sensitive spot. Worshiping her breasts, first between them, then licking at the underside before he took each nipple. He adjusts his body to the floor to get himself lower, guiding her hips to his face and bracing them with his hand under her ass. His mouth is worshiping paths over her skin. Inner mid-thigh and up to the top, then teasingly repeated on the other side. He sucks her outer lips into his mouth but then the feeling is replaced by a long swoop of his tongue until it swirls against her clit. Her eyes roll back and her head falls against the seat at the motion. He continues, sucking in short kisses that make her want to beg. Soon he's running his tongue along her clit, and she's pulsing in need for more.

He then sucks it into his mouth and her hips jump. He cradles her ass so she's still for him while his mouth works a rhythm. She's sensitive, needing the indulgent work of his mouth to bring her over the edge this time.

As the tension builds, her muscles tense with her breathing coming in pants. She sharply feels a delicate ache as his fingers press at her entrance and then they thrust inside, drawing a sharp breath.

She's raw from their sex, and even still she craves for the way he makes her sore. Each flick of his tongue brings her closer, lapping her right to the edge, his fingers driving the final dive. She finally collapses, her body letting go, this time in the perfect way. It's powerful, overcoming, but not because of panic. She's not lost in it, she's with him. Like finding an oasis and being consumed by euphoria, she's found what she needed. Wrapped up in passion for him, wrapped up by his mouth and tongue.

She pulls in several breaths as he climbs back up her body. They adjust, him sliding a bit beneath her with his back curved against the seat. She rests on him, his naked skin against hers, listening to his heartbeat return to normal

Everything in him wants her to be content and the fact that he'll move mountains if he has to for her fills her up and settles her into the most profound peace.

She plays with his hands, linking their fingers, then smiles at the thought of what got them here tonight. "What the hell do you think happened to them anyway? The panties," she asks.

"I dunno. You were pretty wet. Maybe you shorted them out."

She raises her head, seeing the amusement in his eyes as she rolls her eyes.

"I'll sue them later," he offers.

"I don't intend on reliving that story to anyone. This is the new "never mention it again"."

He laughs. "You know you don't have the best track record with that."

"Me? Okay, Mister, strawberries and whipped cream in the office."

He chuckles, then wraps her up more tightly against him. "I'm sorry this messed up your Valentine's Day."

She brushes a thumb along his chest. "It didn't. Not anymore."

They stay like this for a while. The lights flickering above them, in whites and pinks and reds, casting shadows on their bare skin through faded fogged up windows, twinkling in the reflection of their eyes. They, on the other hand, no longer flicker. Together, now, they're always bright.

A/N's: About a year ago Ana sent me the scene with Katherine Heigl from The Ugly Truth when she's in a restaurant with remote controlled vibrating panties as a prompt. I thought it was hilarious but got busy and then got reinspired at Christmas. That didn't get done in time, so I reworked it for Valentine's day. This is dedicated to her and CeCe who asked me to write it. Hope it's what you envisioned!

Thank you to Elle(Mieh) who couldn't be a better best friend or beta. And thank you to Aimee(AimeeValle1) for being an amazing friend who always improves my weird words. Love you both beyond!

Note: The toy in this, unlike Harvey's Gift which is real-life inspired(smirk), is NOT for sale except in my dreams. As I often experience, I'm fretting this is the worst thing I've written so if you can confirm(please don't) or let me know it's not, I'd be so very thankful. Thanks for reading. Okay, enough.