Title: Something to remember
Summary: When Dean lost his memory Sam had to ask someone to look after his brother until he found a way to restore it back. Guess, how much that "someone" liked the prospect when she had business to do?
Spoilers: 3x03 "Bad day at Black Rock", 3x06 "Red sky at morning" and 3x07 "Fresh blood". Pre-"Deam a little dream of me".
Characters: Dean, Bela, Sam, Bobby. Maybe somebody else, because I have just started with the stuff and have no idea about what's gonna happen in the following chapters.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own any of them although, believe me, I wish I did
Note: I decided to write something light, with lots of fun, humor and fluff and I hope it wored ;) Not Colt-, Bela's deal- and death-related. Well, not directly at least. Something in "Bad day at Black Rock"- and "Red sky at morning"-style, as if there were no "Dream a little dream of me" and "Time is on my side" at all. Bela is still baddie but sort of good baddie, if you see what I mean. And… from now on we all pretend that we don't know about her deal :))
Small waves splashed lazily against the softest white sand, crossed by the shadows of palm trees, and sun was shining high in deep blue sky, soft and warm.
Bela Talbot stretched herself leisurely in the hammock letting cool breeze caress her body, small smile full of satisfaction playing on her lips. She took a sip of her ice-cold Margarita – from that special glass with a cute little umbrella for decoration – and closed her eyes. She was free, she was alone, and she had all the time in the world. Her body relaxed, mind started drifting away lulled by the monotonous wash.
It was a lovely day, Bela thought somewhat distractedly. It really was…
Until the damn fly appeared out of nowhere and started buzzing right into her ear. That annoying, irritating sound that could drive crazy even the most patient of all people. Bela Talbot was patient. Could be at least, when she needed it. But not now, not when she was feeling so happy and content. Not when the damn insect was ruining her day!
Not even bothering to open her eyes, Bela waved her hand trying to shoo persistent fly away. And once again after that, when the buzzing did not stop. Her fists clenched involuntarily in an immense wish to slap the damn thing dead, and she had to grit her teeth to suppress it. Ignore it, she told herself. Just ignore it. Relaxation was the motto of the day!
But the longer she waited, the more annoying it was getting. The sound grew louder as if the insect climbed into her very head. Bela reached her hand out with a steady intention to catch the fly and finally end this torture and…
And she woke up.
Growled in frustration because the dream was too good to leave it until eight in the morning and buried herself deeper into the warmness of her blankets, enjoying soft touch of silk sheets to her skin. Hoped that if she wished really hard she'd see that dream again, right from the place where it ended. If she was too busy dealing with her sellers and buyers and other sort of contacts to go to the beach for real now, it was damn unfair to miss a chance to have good time when she was sleeping. Oh, the last time she was on the beach was like…
And this was when the train of her thought was rudely interrupted by that annoying buzzing once again. Oh, no! Not now! But wait! She woke up, didn't she? Because – hey! – that was the smell of her favorite lavender fabric softener and that was definitely her cat purring at the foot of her bed in his sleep, probably dreaming about something pleasant, too. Then where did the fly come from?!
It took Bela half a minute to realize that the sound had actually nothing to do with any of the insects. It was the buzzing of her door intercommunication system. Someone very persistent wanted to pay her a visit at… Bela moaned and forced her eyes open – and, God, it felt like she had all the sand from her dream beach in them – to look at electronic alarm clock that flickered on the bedside table. At 3:30 in the morning!
To hell with you, whoever you are, Bela thought. Visiting hours are nice to six, by prior arrangement. Saturdays and Sundays excluded.
Having this thought fully formed in her mind, she buried her face into the softness of her pillow, groped for another one that lay on the other half of the bed, covered her head with it to avoid hearing any sounds at all and promised to ignore whoever it was there at her door. Knew that they'd just give up some time and leave. Her car was in the garage – safety measures! - so, theoretically speaking, there were no evidences of her presence here, she could be in any other part of the world right now. Maybe even on the beach somewhere.
And, thank God, the buzzing finally stopped. Bela sighed with relief, happy at the thought of having the whole five hours of sweet dreams ahead. Five hours of her beauty sleep, in the apartment, in her soft, warm and cozy bed, with the purring form of her cat at an arm's length… Not that there was anyone in the world she'd want to see at this time anyway.
But right when Bela managed to persuade herself that she might as well forget about that late – or was it early? – visit, her cell phone came to life vibrating on the bedside table next to the alarm clock, its ring-tone switched off for the night.
Without opening her eyes Bela reached her hand from under her covers, grabbed the cell phone – considered smashing it against the wall for a second or two, which was so-o-o tempting! – and snapped it open. Didn't bother to look at the caller ID though because, first, it would definitely require having her eyes open and it was way beyond her abilities now, and, second, she didn't really care who she was going to kill some time soon if they didn't leave her alone.
"What?" She growled into the receiver wishing like hell that the sound of her voice was expressive enough to scare away the speaker on the other end of the call.
Why, who else if it was her number?!
She fell back onto her pillow and shut her eyes as tight as she could, feeling that a severe headache started forming in her head. Sam bloody Winchester. Bela would recognize his voice even in her sleep. And, damn those Winchesters, she wasn't sleeping! Because of Sam and, most likely, his dolt of a brother who must surely be somewhere there too, as these jerks were like some freaking Siamese twins. Dean and Sam. Sam and Dean. Always together, like a stupid cheap sale offer – buy one and get one more for free. Story of her life!
"What do you want, Sam?" She bellowed wondering with frustration if there were chances for her to sleep that night at all. "Do you know what time is it?!"
Of course he did, Bela thought somewhat gloomily. No way on Earth they'd drop by during daylight just because it wouldn't piss her off as much as at 3:30 in the morning.
"Open the door," Sam asked and even added quickly, "please." As if being polite was a key to people's hearts or something.
"Go to hell, Sam, seriously," she growled again and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingertips, pretty much sure that she wouldn't see the beach or that wonderfully comfortable hammock in her dream again even if she'd be lucky enough to fall asleep at last, which still was a very big if. She would definitely be dreaming about torturing the Winchesters, something Inquisition style.
Sam cleared his throat quietly and Bela wondered why she didn't hang up still. Should have as well switched her cell phone off right away.
"Let us in, Bela! It's not a… phone talk," and – what a smartass! "I know you're at home."
Did he break into her garage?
"It's not a middle of the night talk for sure," she grumbled and tacked on before finally hanging up, "Greetings to Dean!"
Cell phone switched off till morning – and she really meant it! – and tossed aside somewhere into the blankets, Bela rolled over and fluffed the pillow under her head. Took several deep breaths to calm herself down and hoped that the Winchesters, whatever they came to her for… or with, were not going to force the door open or something. She wouldn't be surprised if they did, though.
When the intercom buzzed again moments later Bela added Change the apartment or kill the Winchesters to the To do list in her mind and finally gave up. She tossed aside her warm covers and winced at the touch of a rather cool air of the room to her skin. Groped for the slippers with her bare feet and marched to the door swearing to God to make the last minutes of Sam and Dean's miserable existence the worst in their lives. Stopped in her tracks, looked down herself, rolled her eyes irritably and headed back to the bedroom for a housecoat to put it over her short dress-like nightgown. All this on never-ending buzzing! Jesus, they were dead!
Bela pushed the button to let them in and stayed at the door hoping to avoid the necessity to actually let them in. Expected that a short conversation right here would be enough. It was not bloody likely the Winchesters could possibly say anything that would keep her interested for real for more than five seconds.
Besides, they always were so manly independent and dignified that Bela couldn't even come at once with what they could need from her in the first place.
And, truth be told, they were not so much as friends after her joke with Gordon Walker – she made good money out of that mojo bag, by the way. Thanks to Sam and Dean! No need for them to know that, though. But, hell, who would think that Dean would be so touchy about such trifle?! Geez, how could they live without sense of humor at all?
She yanked the door open at the hurried footsteps in the hallway and anything but barked, "What?!"
Remembered somewhat belatedly that she didn't even take a look at herself in a mirror and felt that her cheeks pinked slightly. Bela ran her fingers through her hair instinctively but jerked her hand away at once, irritated over the edge with herself. Why would she even care about what those lunatics were going to think about her looks?!
Her intention not to let the Winchesters over the doorstep were sent to hell right immediately… and she didn't even notice how it happened! But the next moment the three of them were standing in the corridor – sleepy Bela with her arms crossed on her chest and her eyes flaring with indignation, somewhat uneasy Sam with a mark of deep weariness on his face and very, very strange Dean who was casting sidelong glances in her direction. He didn't even comment on her appearance or her flat or something else, which was… not right. Not natural, she'd even say.
So, okay, she was curious about what was going on because it was weird, like – really! But… at 3:30 in the morning?! No, thanks!
Bela gave Sam a frowned look waiting for explanations, but didn't say a word because, really, it was his idea to talk, wasn't it?
"Dean, would you please wait for me there?" Sam asked his brother under Bela's unblinking gaze and literary pushed him in the direction of a living room. Then he grabbed Bela unceremoniously by the elbow and dragged her to the kitchen, all vibrating with some out of place nervousness.
"What the hell is this all about?" She hissed but kept her voice quiet enough for Dean not to hear it because… she didn't know why! Just because! Cast a quick look at him over her shoulder, but he was too occupied with studying her talking board to notice it, and peered at Sam again, all determination. Bela was not stupid. She saw that something was very wrong, knew for sure that she didn't do anything to cause it and simply couldn't help but wonder what part of that crap made them come to her place, all at once. "Are you two gone nuts, or what?"
"I need your help," Sam said quickly like it was Now or Never. As if he could change his mind or something, like leave, which Bela doubted, honestly. Or maybe he rehearsed the phrase in his mind. And he even leaned a bit closer to her face, obvious plea in his gaze.
"Well, of course you do!" She rolled her eyes and decided not to buy into this Oh, please, please, please, help me because people have to help each other look. "It doesn't look like a friendly visit, you know." Took a deep breath and counted to five in her mind as it usually helped to pull herself together. Might as well listen to what Sam had to say now that she was out of her bed anyway.
His jaw twitched at her comment.
"It's Dean," he started carefully choosing the words. Like I didn't notice, Bela winced to herself but didn't let this slip out. "He is… we were performing that ritual, you know… and he got… umm, sort of hit by the spell. By accident."
Bela's brows arched. Oh!
"What kind of ritual?" She asked with genuine curiosity, beauty sleep forgotten for a while. This was getting interesting!
"Anti-poltergeist protection spell," he answered automatically and frowned. "Does it matter?"
"So, what happened to Dean?" Bela ignored his pretty much defensive tone in favor of enjoying the situation. Felt better now that she new that they really did need something from her. More powerful if you like. "He finally lost whatever mind he had left? Don't worry, Sam, you won't even notice." And patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. "He won't either."
Sam scowled and Bela could nearly hear what he was thinking of her at the moment. Nothing that could be said out loud in high society, that was for sure. But how could he expect her to help him one way or another if he said it to her in the face? So, he didn't. Practically, he even gritted his teeth to literary swallow the comment. God, she was starting to like it! Some evil part of her at least.
"No, it's not that," Sam huffed. "He… he lost his memory actually."
Bela snapped her head round and peered at Dean who looked… well, like himself in her opinion. Externally at least. Aside from lack of extremely bad manners and biting remarks, which, she seriously suspected, he couldn't live without even for a minute. But still, had she been somebody else, she'd definitely let her jaw drop at the news.
"Really?!" Beauty sleep forgotten forever, she turned and stared at Sam, head inclined slightly to her shoulder.
"Yeah, well," he cleared his throat, ran his fingers through his hair. "We didn't quite expect something like that to happen. Not that sort of effect anyway."
"I bet you didn't." Bela agreed easily and had to bite her lower lip to hide an unbidden smile. It was almost worth having sleepless night, she admitted. Wished she could see how it happened – totally confused Dean and horrified like hell Sam, both gawking at one another unable to say a word. Could they really be that stupid to let the spell hit one of them? Apparently, they could. Geez, like amateurs! "So, you're saying that your brother forgot everything? Like everything?"
Sam scoffed, "He's not like a bloody five year old! He does remember how to use a fork and a knife. And his cell phone, as far as I know," paused thoughtfully. "He just doesn't remember his name. And mine. And your, to tell the truth."
Bela's lips curved into a wry smile.
"I don't know how I am going to live with that, honestly. My dignity is buried under the piles of crashed to pieces self-esteem." Sighed with mock disappointment under Sam's half-worried, half-annoyed look. "I'm sorry for your bother, Sam," it sounded sincere, so she added, "Sort of," not to seem overly concerned. "But I still don't get what exactly any of that have to do with me. Especially at this time of the day."
Sam looked over her shoulder at Dean, who moved to study something else after he finished with the talking board, to make sure he couldn't hear their conversation, and then flashed his best but yet very ingratiating smile at Bela, which couldn't not to arouse her suspicion at once. She knew Sam Winchester couldn't say anything she'd like with such smile on his face and felt an immense urge to throw them both out of her apartment before he had a chance to open his mouth.
"I need to find a way to get him back to normal," Sam said to her, all confidence.
Back to normal sounded almost like a joke to her.
"Good luck!" Bela reacted immediately and quite sincerely this time. "Give me a call when you're done, I'm sure I want to know the details."
He surely didn't expect her to actually help him out with this, did he? Because No! was the only answer she could give, the only answer she was going to give, despite whatever he could say to talk her into this mess. Because there was no way any of the Winchester brothers could be financially sustainable enough to afford her services – no charity here! Because Bela Talbot had her own business to mind, like, say, a very important appointment tomorrow in the afternoon – oh, wait! that was today, assuming it was past midnight already. An appointment that could end up with a very profitable deal. Profitable for her in the first place. And which she was not going to miss. No way!
"…so, you don't mind if I leave him here?" Bela heard through that rush of thoughts in her head and realized that she had already missed the beginning of whatever Sam was talking about. And his question strangely sounded more like a statement to her, not exactly a question.
"Leave here who?" Bela blinked at him.
It must have been lack of sleep that caused that sudden fit of stupidity and made her freeze on the spot, half formed panic rising inside of her. Or maybe the truth was that she didn't want to get the meaning of what Sam was saying. The truth was that she should have lied to them, come up with some shady crap and never let them in in the first place! Fake flu could be an excuse.
"Dean," he repeated patiently. Gave her a sympathetic look, exactly the same like the one that he received from her minutes ago. "It's going to need some serious research and I can't take Dean with me. He doesn't know the stuff. It'll scare the crap out of him."
"No!" She interrupted him firmly and raised her hand to emphasize the seriousness of her response. "No, no and no, Sam! No way!" He's a big boy. He'll cope! "I know you don't like me much, bit, seriously, what did I do to you?"
Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Oh, come on, Bela! Just a little favor…"
"Little?! If you asked for ten bucks that would be little! I'm no nurse or a babysitter or.. whatever, Sam!" She flashed a burning glance at him. "No means no!"
"We saved your life…" he started.
"And you got paid for it!" Bela snapped and huffed in frustration. "So, it's an old story and let's forget about it! There are limits to my gratitude, you know? Despite what you and your brother might think." She paused to take a breath, blood literary boiling in her veins. "Besides, why me? There are hospitals, police stations, asylums!"
"It's Dean, not a lost puppy, for God's sake!"
"Yes, and that's my point exactly!" She hissed. "What am I supposed to do with Dean who is not even… the Dean?" My Dean nearly slipped out but after a moment of irritated panic she managed to swallow it and come up with a more appropriate substitution. It would be very embarrassing if she said my because she didn't really think so, and… God, whatever!
"Nothing," Sam replied quickly. "Nothing at all. You won't even notice him."
Muffled noise behind them forced both Sam and Bela look back. And they did so just in time to see one of Bela's favorite Chinese vases falling from the shelf and Dean catching it purely by accident a split second before it smashed into pieces against her antiquarian oak parquet. Damn thing cost more than the whole apartment! Bela closed her eyes, then opened them slowly and started at the ceiling trying to recall when was the last time she was that close to having a heart attack, and failed. Not before she met the Winchesters anyway.
"Oh, sure," she regarded Sam gloomily, but decided not to mention that Dean could as well bank all her money into a pile and set them on fire. It was too optimistic to expect any of them to understand it from her point of view.
"Thanks!" Sam's face lit up and he patted Bela on the back with such force that his gesture nearly sent her flying across the kitchen. "I knew you'd be good."
And he headed for the door, obviously very pleased with himself.
"No!" Bela rushed after him, feeling supremely stupid about how Sam managed to turn her own words against her. "That's not what I meant, Sam!" Caught up with him at the very door. Felt even more stupid in that housecoat of hers fluttering behind her back like some Batman wings and those pink girly slippers, with Dean looking at how she was chasing his brother all around her flat. Wanted to growl. Or kill Sam. Or…
"I'll be back soon," Sam assured her and slammed the door right in her face on, "Behave, Dean!"
"Soon like in an hour?" Bela called out after him with hope, waited for a while and, well, it felt awkward to be talking to the door. Sam must have been halfway… wherever he was about to go by the end of her phrase anyway. "Might as well drop him off at Bobby's," she muttered and regarded her door with annoyance, as if it could have stopped Sam by not opening or something. Wanted to kick it, too.
Growled after all and went back to the living room only to find Dean standing at the bookshelf, reading the names on the backs.
He snapped his head up at the sound of her footsteps and smiled. Then, still being Dean Winchester, with memory or without, gave her a long appraising look from head to toe. Bela's first impulse was to wrap the damn housecoat around herself as tight as possible and bind the waistband for good measure. Instead, irritated over the edge with her own self and the world in general because, seriously, this night was the craziest in her life, she put her hands on her hips, chin tipped high with a challenge, and looked him in the eye. One word she didn't like and Sam would have no one to save, she swore mentally.
"So, you're… Bela?" Dean asked curiously at last when the pause became too long.
She scoffed. To herself though because – geez! – that was pathetic, really. And insulting to a degree because, honestly, Bela couldn't even imagine – like, ever! – that Dean would be able to forget her after all they'd been though. Even because of some stupid spell. Even assuming that it was his way of life – to save damsels in distress and deal with revenge-obsessed hunters who wanted to kill his brother. Antichrist! This could rise self-conceit of Sam Winchester to high heavens! Gordon should have spent some time with the brothers before believing in such bullshit. Would take him five minutes or less to understand how delusional he was…
Well, anyway, it was creepy to look at Dean now and see… not quite Dean. So wrong! Like he was from another planet or something. Like he was expecting something from her. Whatever it was!
And she wanted to sleep! And maybe…
"My girlfriend?" The word sounded so awkward in his mouth that Bela's first reaction was to laugh out loud. Before she took in the meaning. And then…
"What?!" He was talking about her?!
Her jaw dropped this time, for real, and Bela even felt that she was going to start hyperventilating. Out of shock, and indignation, and many other things all at once because, God knew, there were a lot of things in her mind she wanted to say right now, but all she could do was open and close her mouth like some frigging hungry fish in aquarium. Suspected somewhat belatedly that her eyes popped out of her head not so elegantly, too, but simply couldn't help herself. So, she just started at him, eyes opened wide, blinking stupidly.
"Umm, Sam said…"
"Oh, he did, didn't he?" Bela's lips curved into a clearly evil grin and her hands balled into fists against her will.
Sam Winchester might as well start organizing his funeral, she thought and draw the picture of his slow and painful death in her mind. I'll help with the rest!
It was embarrassing. Like… really embarrassing! Of course, not exactly the thing that could actually make Bela blush. There were not so many things that could, truth be told. It was her territory. The territory she knew and felt comfortable around. But…
With Dean, not with… Gosh!
"So, you really don't remember… anything?" Bela narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him searching for something – she didn't know what exactly – on his face. A reassurance maybe.
He looked confused and somehow lost, obviously trying to revive something in his memory. Dean Winchester she knew would never let himself look like that. In public at least. That would first of all mean immediate death to his macho reputation, which, Bela knew, he valued almost as much as his car and a collection of fake IDs, because she valued her reputation and her IDs, too. Weird how much in common they had.
"Nope," Dean shrugged and smiled apologetically.
"Not even your brother?" Which was simply beyond Bela's understanding so far because of her Siamese twins theory. It was like Dean could have forgotten anything and anybody, and even himself, give or take some minor facts, but not Sam. Physically impossible!
And she peered intensely at him as if trying to take a look into his mind.
"Not even my own name," Dean assured her with a nod.
"I see," Bela drawled, her lips stretched into a Cheshire-cat smile.
That's good, she thought, because this time I'm going to shoot you little brother for real the next moment I see him and you presumably wouldn't do anything to stop me. That's inspiring! "Okay then!" She clapped her hands, blushed slightly when Dean's brows arched again at the sight her of nightgown, which was leaving so little to imagination, to tell the truth, when the housecoat flew open at the movement. She arched her own brows in response to his glare and continued, "It's too late, or too early. Choose what you like. Anyway, we… we should better go to have some sleep now." Rubbed her forehead struggling with a wish to send both Winchesters to hell, give a call to Sam and tell him to pick Dean up before she left him at the nearest bus station or elsewhere. "Guest bedroom is down the hall," she waved her hand in that direction, but then rolled her eyes and walked him to the door, even pushed it open for Dean. "Feel like home," mumbled in his back.
"Guest bedroom?" He stepped inside and gave Bela a questioning look over his shoulder.
"Well, you don't remember me!" She snapped, all insult. "You tell me you don't remember when my birthday is, honey, I swear to God I'm not gonna talk to you ever again!" And slammed the door in his face. And felt deep satisfaction after that.
Back upstairs, in her bedroom, Bela balled up under her covers with her cat purring softly at her side and finally let herself sigh with relief. Thought somewhat distractedly that she should probably have locked the door from inside but by the moment when that idea came to her mind she was too warm, too drowsy, too lazy to get out once again. Four meters to the door seemed like four miles. Besides, it would be childish, she decided. It was her apartment, her home, and no bloody hunter was going to make her feel uneasy or unsafe here. Not today, anyway. That was what she knew for sure. Not with Dean…
Oh, and where did these sentiments were coming from? He didn't even remember her name! Like it mattered now that he saved her once or twice!
Well, anyway, first things first and, speaking of safety, she literary had a gun under her pillow. And, second… Bela couldn't say that she would seriously mind an advance from Dean.
She growled out of confusion.
Angry sex with Dean Winchester was not a bad idea, not at all. With real Dean, of course. And not when Sam was throwing her at his brother like that. A girlfriend?! It was gross! Might as well add a red heart-shaped balloon and a teddy bear to that to make her puke. Speaking of sentiments… And there was no way of Earth Bela was going to let Sam get away with what he had done today. Not after he made her feel… stupid.
But still, Bela had to admit to herself – and to herself only – that it was smart of Sam, to say what he said. Aside from that part where the Winchesters shouldn't have come to her apartment in the first place, what else could he say at all? Hey, Dean – your name is Dean, by the way, dude! – I'm going to leave you with a mercenary bitch who shot me once and tried to kill us both a couple of times! Which was true, but still Ha! That would probably freak Dean out more than demons and monsters taken together. He must have been really scared without such details.
But he was good, Bela thought seeing the image of Dean before her mind's eye. Couldn't even imagine what she would feel in his place, with a clean sheet of paper for a memory. She would most likely believe anything and anyone! It was too horrible to even start thinking that way. Sure as hell she wouldn't be as calm as Dean seemed to be.
Sure as hell she would never let anything like that happen to her in the first place! Only a moron could let himself be hit by the spell during the ritual!
She didn't like Sam mentioning saving her life once again, by the way. That was a cheap shot! Made her feel strangely… obliged to help because, to tell the truth, she held her life more that that! Bloody ten grand! Yes, she was friends with the Winchesters. Especially when it suited her. Not kind of friends to have Saturday movie nights together or whatever actual friends usually did. They were more like friends to get information from, or ask for help, or exchanger lazy banter with, or ruin each other's day. But c'mon!
Bela thought with a shade of irritation about moving to another place. She liked her apartment, it was classy, and it was up to her standards. She was comfortable here. But if Sam and Dean were going to visit her unannounced from time to time and remind her not so gallantly about that freaking ghost ship story it would be too much bother, really.
Oh, God, and what if it was nothing? What if it was just a joke? A very bad joke. A trick. Or s revenge for the damn rabbit's foot, and a stupid pirate's hand. Add Gordon Walker to the list! What if right now Dean was searching through her apartment for that priceless amulet she had or for that book with witchcraft spells, which she held in the safe? Or… worse.
Bela buried her face into the pillow with irritated moan and refused to think about any of this anymore before she became obsessed with paranoid thoughts about conspiracy theories and other insane stuff. The Winchesters conspiracy theory… And here we come!
Right now Bobby Singer was her salvation, Bela decided. She'd drop Dean off at Bobby's first thing in the morning and then move on to her own business. She added taxi services to her virtue list and finally fell asleep with a small smile on her lips.
To be continued…