whedonist

Fandom: Nikki & Nora
Pairing: Nikki/Nora
Rating: PG-13 to R (depends on the chapter)
Title: Stuff & Nonsense

Disclaimer: These characters well, Nikki, Nora, Dan, Darius, Georgia, Charlie, Arthur, Bobby and Mrs. Delaney are so not mine (dammit!), but Ann and Jill and other characters not mentioned in the pilot are (Ha!). The ones in the “dammit!” category belong to Nancylee Myatt and other’s I don’t know. Title and inspiration for this piece comes from Missy Higgins’ song, Stuff & Nonsense…

A/N: This is the fluff…and a bit more fluff and some filler between some cases for Nikki and Nora. A bit of New Year’s celebration and it also is going to provide the vehicle to tie this into canon a bit more. That’s all I got. Sorry…

Ch. 3 – How & When

“Are all fund raising things like this?” Ann gripes from the seat next to me.

Normally, I would hush her because we are seated at a table with four other people, but I just can’t seem to find the heart. Everyone is dressed up and the meal is okay, but oh my God do they need to do something with the entertainment. They have a five piece cover band playing horrible covers of Fifties Do-wop.

And I couldn’t tell you what the event was for to save my life.

“I just don’t get it,” John Malone answers from my left. He leans forward causing Ann and I to lean into hear him. “I’ve been to some really bad things in my time. In fact, I’ve lost count, but this is ridiculous.”

“It’s not that bad,” I try. Morale is taking a nosedive faster than a twin-engine jet that’s lost all power; someone needs to keep things in perspective. “I’ve seen worse.” I neither stayed for them nor participated in them per say, but I’m sure there have been.

Ann rolls her eyes. John snorts. “Yeah well, did those things have an open bar?”

I shake my head.

“See the least they could do is have an open bar.” John grins.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, the limited interaction I’ve had with him has been pleasant and he seems okay. He and Ann get along well, that much is obvious. They go at each other like brother and sister.

“Well, since they don’t,” Ann says standing, “I’m going to go get us another round.”

“You’re driving home tonight,” John admonishes.

Ann rolls her eyes at this. “I’ve had a glass of Champaign, partner. The water I’ve been sipping on is virgin.” She winks at him and saunters off.

His brows knit together as he looks at the table again. I count six empty rock glasses and four empty flutes. “I’m the responsible party for two flutes and four of those,” I say pointing to a cluster of empty glasses. “You’ve had those. She hasn’t been drinking. Although, I do hold the assessment that we should be getting a little more relaxed for this.”

He huffs. The tux coat he has on bunches around his arms giving him the look of pouting child.

“Hi,” one of the tables four other occupants cut into our private conversation. The man has light brown eyes and dark hair. “I’m Doctor Jeff Peak and this is my wife, Tanya.”

We didn’t really make proper introductions when we were seated, I suppose now is as good a time as any. “Hi,” I start, “I’m Nikki Beaumont. This is John Malone and Ann went back to the bar.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Tanya says. Her face says something different. I’m not sure if it’s boredom or something else.

I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Like Daddy always said about that whole lemon tree thing taking up residence. May as well use the bastards for something.

“Same here,” John fills in finding his manners.

“Here you go,” Ann comes back to the table both hands holding out drinks. “John, they had an Eighty-one Highland Park on the shelf…I expect your first born.” Ann slips my drink in front of me and says, “Nikki, the bartender said this is the best they make in bourbon so…salute.” She raises her water glass and smiles.

I bring the glass up and sniff. Not bad. Taking a sip, I let it slip down my throat appreciating the slight burn it provides. “Hmm,” I hum, “he’s right that was Hirsch if I am not mistaken. Small batch liquor that’s usually excellent. What did you do to get him to agree to give you a glass?”

“Give my ass, but I think he may have cut me a deal. I leaned over the bar to fetch a lime wedge,” she says and winks at me.

I roll my eyes as John gives a small bark of laughter. A quick look at the rest of the table and I can tell that’s as far as they were willing to take the pleasantries.

“Hey, I’m not sure which of the girls was first. What one you want delivered to you?” John asks before draining the finger of scotch.

“Bamby, please. Spence’s a little too…” Ann trails off, “She’s too…”

“Much like her mother?” John offers.

Ann snaps her fingers and nods. “Exactly. And speaking of your wife, how’d she get out of this?”

“No clue, she bought them for the kid’s old school and ended up ducking out on us ‘cause she had to work. Apparently, she don’t gotta suffer, but we do.” He nudges his glass towards Ann.

My friend rolls her eyes. “You really don’t expect me to.”

“Nah, but if you do, I promise to make sure you have no open items for you when you get back.” Her partner smiles a wide toothy dazzling smile. Ann caves.

“Fine.” I watch as she stands and goes back to the bar. Maybe if she gets another lime the bartender won’t charge her for this glass.

“You have kids?” I ask.

“Yep, two of ‘em.” He beams and pulls out his wallet. He shows me a picture of two girls, identical twins, with dark chestnut hair and bright blue eyes. “This one,” he points to a girl in jeans and a t-shirt that says ‘Gravity, what a downer’, “is Spencer. The girl next to her in the shirt that says, I want my own theme music, is her sister Bamby.”

I see the resemblance and ask, “How old are they?”

“Sixteen. Both pains. Teenage girls are scary,” he says shuddering. “I’ve been asking Annie to help me understand, ya know, ‘cause sometimes it feels like they aren’t even remotely related to me. At least they don’t like to act like it. Is it all teenage girls that hate their fathers or just mine?”

“I told you,” Ann says handing over his drink and sitting back down, “I’m not the person to ask about this.”

“Did you and your dad get along?” I ask.

A snort is the initial response, but Ann explains further, “My dad and I were close when he was around. We haven’t spoken in over twenty years though and the last time I saw him was when the cops took him away. So, like I keep telling my partner, I’m not the foremost expert on how teenage girls are supposed to relate to their father. What about you Nik, you and your dad get on okay?”

I nod. “My mom passed when I was little. It’s been my dad and me since.”

“You think maybe it’s ‘cause they don’t know I know?” John asks scratching his chin. He fingers the photo of his daughters once again before slipping it back into his wallet and the wallet into his inside coat pocket.

“Know what?” I wonder. I’m not sure if it’s my place, but he seems like he needs to talk about it.

“Right before the girls left for school in September, I accidentally, and yes it was accidental, navigated into Bamby’s email account. She’s got a girlfriend. She doesn’t know I know. I didn’t say anything because it really wasn’t any of my business, her email. Her having a girlfriend, it is my business, but it’s not like I care. Saves me the trouble of having to kill some boy who’s only got one thing on his mind,” John tells me.

I didn’t think he would have a problem with gay people, but sometimes you never know. My aunt and uncle love me, but we don’t talk about relationships. They quit asking when I told them that I hadn’t found the right woman to bring around for family gatherings. That was seven years ago.

“So you think they’re distant because Bamby’s gay and Spencer’s showing support?” I ask.

“Well,” John shrugs and looks down at the table, finding the off white cloth interesting, “I think maybe it’s not only Bamby that’s discovered her inner gay.” He looks up and finds my eyes, back peddling a tad, “Not that there’s anything wrong. I mean, you love who you love, but they’re twins. I’ve seen some research that puts monozygotic twins at about a sixty-six percent rate of same sexual orientation. So if one is, Spence’s got like a sixty-six percent chance that she is too. That and well, Ann says that both girls seem to be pinging.”

Ann snorts, “We need to get you hooked up with some gaydar. It will save me lots of time.”

John finally smiles. “See, so I just want them safe, happy, safe mostly. I don’t care. I just want them to talk to me or their mom. Becca doesn’t care.”

“Well, maybe you can tell them or show them that there’s support without actually telling them?” I offer.

“I have. Annie’s been with me for a while. They know Jill really well. They have to know I don’t have any issues,” he says at a near pout.

Laughing, I pat his arm, “Well from one daughter to a father, let me tell you, it’s different. My daddy, he never really commented much on it. When I came out, it took him a few months to come around. For some it makes a difference.”

He wags his finger at me then points between Ann and me. “See, I knew I liked you.” His eyes light up as the band starts to slowly kill another classic. I recognize the Classics IV song Spooky. “Ladies would you care to join me on the dance floor?”

I shoot a look to Ann who shrugs. I stand and take the offered hand. Ann takes the other.

“You’re water ladies,” Justin says as he sets the two glasses down and slides in the booth.

“Thanks,” I say and take a sip of the water.

“Yeah, thanks Justin. We were trying for a buzz not completely drunk,” Jill jokes and tips her glass of ice water to him.

“It’s bad business serving water, just so you know.” He looks around the club as the last band for the night goes seamlessly from one song to the next. “Although all in, this was pretty cool. I haven’t run the numbers yet, but we’ll be able to send at least five grand to the charity.”

Jill high fives the man before he stands. “I need to go spell Bri, see you later.”

Jill and I offer him a wave as I catch sight of Vanessa and Lee over his shoulder. They’re doing some weird improvisational interpretation of the Chicken Dance and I shake my head.

“You know, I always thought they should try a relationship, but now,” Jill cuts into my snickering thoughts, “I’m kind of glad they only slept together.”

My head swivels left to look at her. “They dated?”

Her nose scrunches and she shakes her head. “I wouldn’t call it dating. See Vanessa was really…she had a hard time finding guys. She’s supper smart and she’s cute. Not to mention her personality is, uh, strong. We’re talking late Eighties. Most guys didn’t know what to do with that. Lee and her have a certain chemistry and they’d hook up every now and again. I think they’re relationship is the longest they’ve both had.” She giggles at the thought.

“So when did you meet Vanessa?” I wonder. I’ve heard a little about here over the years, but usually topics get shifted before things get detailed.

“She was my roommate in college. Ann was stuck with this girl, Kelly and I ended up with Vanessa. I got the better deal.”

I would have to agree. Ann’s told me about her first college dorm mate. I didn’t remember her name just that the girl had drank shroom tea and got carted off to a psych ward.

“I wish they’d both find someone though,” Jill says scooting over to rest her head on my shoulder. I lean my cheek against her head and let her continue, “Relationships can be a pain, but I think they’re worth it.” Her hand settles over mine and she squeezes. “What about you Nor? Since you’re in the relationship you never wanted now, how is it?”

I snort. She’s right. I never looked for what I have. I’m glad I do have it though. “It’s…different.”

I feel her poke my side and I shift. “Nora, try more words.”

Rolling my eyes, I sigh thinking about Nikki. A smile spreads over my face. I finally offer her something honest, “It’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Jill breathes. She manages to lace her fingers through mine and gives our hands a shake, “Tell me.”

I feel my cheeks flush. No one can see me and for all anyone cares, we could be talking about our belly button lint, but I don’t do this.

“How is it living together? I know you don’t talk emotions Nor, but no one’s gonna think different of you for showing a little bit of that romantic streak you have buried under a small ton of grump.”

I clamp the grunt of annoyance at her pushiness and close my eyes. “It’s great. I mean working together, she’s a great partner. She gets the way I work better than anyone. She tempers me out some too, but at home, when it’s just the two of us, that’s my favorite.”

“She lets you be you,” the model surmises.

“Yeah, that, and I mean…” I don’t really know how to say this without potentially offending my friend; but once again, the girl has a read on me.

“I won’t get upset if you tell me that she does something more or different than what being your friend does, Nora. It’s what supposed to happen if it’s done right. Friends are great and we’re useful and you love us. But being in love with someone is a completely different thing.” She sighs lifting both of us up slightly as her chest expands and then she deflates. “Here, I’ll share some with you so you don’t feel bad for being all mushy.”

I can’t stop the rumble of laughter that shakes both of us.

“Like my friends, you for instance, know me, but Annie knows me on a different level…”

“…duh, she sees you naked on a regular basis,” I slip in. My comment earns me a bony elbow to the soft part of my left side.

“Not just like that gutter brain. Like she just sets this part of me at ease. I can breathe a little easier, smile a little wider with her. And then there are the things that I know would drive pretty much anyone up a wall. Her pants for instance. She has this habit of dropping her pants where she’s getting undressed. I’ve fallen because of them once or twice and any rational person would pitch a fit. I can’t. ‘Cause it lets me know she’s home. She’s where she’s supposed to be and that makes me feel really good.”

I kiss the top of her head. She’s right. Ann’s habit of dropping her clothes where ever drove me up a wall. Still does if they stay for any length of time. “I get that. There are things about Nikki that are like that. I’m sure she has some for me too.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I mean she has this inability to close cupboard doors when she’s in the kitchen…”

I stop talking as Lee and Vanessa approach. They slide in the booth and Jill prods me again.

“And,” I say continuing, trying to ignore the fact that our other two people joined this conversation, “Nikki’s got to have two dozen hair care products in the bathroom, half of them are in the shower. She needs four different shampoos and another six different conditioners. Don’t get me started on the body wash…I just…” I look at Lee who’s got this little smirk on his face and Vanessa’s head is resting on her upturned palm. “That shit should annoy me, but it’s so Nikki. I love that it’s Nikki,” I finish.

Jill gives me a squeeze and says, “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“And that’s why I don’t want a girlfriend,” Lee cuts in. “Too much baggage.”

“Oh, come off it,” Vanessa smacks the man upside the head. “I think it’s sweet. You don’t want a girlfriend because you’re a pussy.”

“I am not,” Lee grumbles, folding his arms across his chest.

I raise an eyebrow and Jill rises off my shoulder. “He’s not a pussy; he just doesn’t want to end up like his dad.” Jill points to her friend. “Which is still bullshit by the way.”

Lee rolls his eyes and then looks to me for help. I shrug. “I know better than to get into an argument about this with her,” I point to Jill. “And you,” I point to Vanessa, “you’re too crazy to argue with. I have a rule. Don’t argue with crazy people or pregnant women.”

The table busts up and the little bit of tension that was brewing goes away.

“Well, that kind of stuff is what relationships are about. It’s the way it is,” Jill tells us and the rest of us agree.

I can’t say much. If I have my way, it’ll be this way for as long as I can make it.

My shoes come off as soon as Ann shuts the door to J.D. My second act is to pop the door open for Ann, who jogs around the front of the car in front of John’s house. The temperature dropped significantly as the sun set. I make a note to tell Nora in no way shape or form are we to move north. I am not a fan of this type of cold.

Ann jumps into the driver’s seat and has the car turned over and the heater on before the door’s shut. “I knew,” she stammers through chattering teeth, “I should have worn the sweater outfit instead of the stupid cocktail dress. Jill and her stupid big brown eyes.”

“True sign of a goner Special Agent Flemming,” I tease her.

“Who are you telling?” She shakes her head, but grins. “That woman’s had me around her pinky since before she was old enough to drive.”

“Ouch,” I commiserate. “That’s a while to be a fish on hook.”

“Meh, you get used to it.” Finally the heater actually starts to spit out warm air. “Next time John hires a private car, I’m telling him no. J.D. could have been driven.”

“Yeah, but who were you going to put in the back seat?” I hook a finger to the small area behind me. “He’s not small and I’m not that short.”

“Oh yeah, well, the seats fold down. He could have taken a nap.”

“I’m sure we wouldn’t have heard an objection. John seems easy going enough. He’s a good guy.” It was a good evening too. We were all bored to tears, but the conversation was nice. Nothing too heavy and John’s actually a riot. I can see why Ann likes working with him. They’re two peas in a pod.

“He is.” Ann pulls away from in front of his house and angles the car down the gravel path towards the access road to the highway. “When I first started working for the B.A.U., he was their acting director. We got involved in a case together and then after that he started his own division.”

“Which is the S.I.U.?” I clarify. I’d taken a few courses over at the F.B.I. field offices and while they talked extensively of the work done at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, I’ve never heard of Ann’s unit until I met her.

“Correct.” Her eyes cut to me briefly before going back to the road and merging onto the highway. “S.I.U. is John’s baby. He and I started it together. Well, he asked me to be his partner and join him. It was a good move. I love what I do.”

“B.A.U. wasn’t what you had expected?”

She shakes her head. “It was a lot more paperwork, briefs and consultation. I’m a cop at heart. S.I.U. let’s me be a cop at the federal level.” She grins at me. “So did you have an all right time tonight?”

“I did. It was nice. The event would have needed those shock pads to resuscitate it, but the company kept me from falling asleep at the table,” I joke.

“Hmm, yeah. Remind me never to do that again. What I’m wondering is what our partners are getting up to. If they had run into any trouble, I’m sure we would know about it by now,” Ann worries her lower lip.

“They’re adults. Although the jury’s still out on Vanessa.”

Ann offers a snort of laughter. “I think she hasn’t gotten past her adolescents. Maybe one day she’ll grow out of it and act her age.”

“Oh that doesn’t seem like any fun. Being a teenager was all sorts of fun,” I admonish.

“For you, maybe. For me, I couldn’t wait to get out of my house. I wanted away from my family as soon as possible.”

My eyebrow rises at this. The bits and pieces that I’ve been given don’t paint the best conditions for a kid, but… “It couldn’t have been all bad, right?”

A sound, a mix between a snort and a laugh escapes Ann as she says, “Sure, I mean there’s been worse, but I worked a couple jobs while trying to stay away from my house as much as possible and maintain a high G.P.A. It wasn’t fun. The only parts that made it bearable were when I was with my friends.” She shrugs then. “But I did okay. Just that you couldn’t pay me enough to go back, ya know. What about you?”

“It was me and my dad. I had a good time in high school,” I say.

“And?”

“And…?” I wonder what she’s looking for.

“What did you do in high school? Did you always want to be a cop? Like for me it was something that I always wanted. I didn’t want to be a uniform, I wanted to run investigations.” Ann smiles over at me, the glow from the console of the car casting her features in an interesting light. It allows me to see the woman that Nora was attracted to. If I’m honest and things were different, I’d probably be attracted too.

“Honestly, I was a cheerleader. High school was easy. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and at the time couldn’t care less. No worries. No responsibility,” I give her the answer she was looking for.

Ann chuckles, “Good. Being a teenager’s hard enough without the other bullshit. So when did the idea of becoming a cop come into it?”

“Ah, that, that brilliant idea was birthed on a sunny beach in St. Croix.”

“Uh…what?” Her nose crinkles a little as she looks at me.

Smiling, I figure it’s good enough to tell her everything. “I had taken a little sabbatical after my first girlfriend had died. I needed to get away. So, in true Nikki Beaumont fashion, I ran. I was really good at running away from difficult situations. Erica’s death though, followed me.” I stop as the memories of that trip wash over me. I was sufficiently inebriated for a good portion of it, but my time in St. Croix was more recuperative. I dried out and thought. I thought a lot. “In St. Croix, I really didn’t have much to do but think and I realized I could do something different. Helping others that had been in my situation or preventing people from ending up in my situation seemed to be the best thing to do.”

“How’d she die?” Ann asks softly.

“She was murdered. The detective on her case was a piece of work. Erica was black; I’m a rich white girl that shared everything she had with the woman she loved. He made some assumptions that were offensive and untrue. I knew I could do a better job than that prick.”

“Yeah, it’s unfortunate. There are some really good cops, great people in a very hard job, but really, it only takes one bad cop to turn people away from the people that are supposed to help.” Richmond’s city lights come into view and Ann maneuvers the car to get off the highway. “It’s good that it was motivating instead of a complete turn off.”

I watch Vanessa and Lee hold each other up as they wobble their way to the exit of the bar we’re at. It’s just past the witching hour and while the bands have stopped playing, the bar’s jukebox kicked on a bit ago and the crowd’s thinned marginally.

“You know, they’ll be home soon. You want to start heading back?” Jill asks as she finishes off her beer.

“Walk?” I answer her with a question. I’m not in the best shape to drive and I know she isn’t.

“We’re only like a half mile from the apartment. Sure.” She stands and begins pulling on the long sleeved blue work shirt over the black t-shirt with a white Joe Strummer silhouette outlined in pink with the words ‘Punk Rock Warlord’ emblazoned across her chest. Next comes the zip up hoody. She hands me my leather coat and we make our way to the bar.

She leans over the top and yells at Justin on the other side, “Need to close out the tab.”

He doesn’t say anything over the music that’s playing and turns to the cash register. He brings back her bank card and receipt that she scrawls across the bottom. Slipping the card in to her back pocket, Jill spins around, grabs my hand and leads us out into the cold winter night.

A small gust of wind hits us in the face and we hunch our shoulders walking side by side. “You think maybe I should call and see where Ann’s at? Maybe they can come get us ‘cause you look really cold,” Jill offers as we’re halfway up the block.

“What gave it away?” I ask through chattering teeth.

“You’re frozen.” She bumps my shoulder with her own and says, “The key to surviving winters up here is to layer. I have my bra, a wife-beater, a t-shirt, long sleeved t-shirt and a thermal lined hoodie on.” She gives me a pointed look. “That jacket, while it looks fabulous on you, will not keep out the cold well enough.”

I shrug. “I’m good. I’ll warm up when we get moving a bit more.”

She nods and says, “I hope they had a good time. Ann hates those things.”

“Why’d she go?” I ask trying to keep the conversation going.

“’Cause John had to go. She’s a sweetie like that. She’ll suffer most anything for her people. Like when I get into a pissy mood, nothing really gets me out of it unless Ann finds a way. Usually it’s just something stupid, like she’ll sing to me in a horribly off key rendition of one of our songs. It’s silly, but effective,” Jill says huddling closer to me. Her hand slips around my waist and I’m grateful for the added warmth.

“Yeah, Nikki usually has a way of getting me to smile even when I really don’t want to.” Jill leans into me a little more as we support each other across the street.

“You think she’s it?” Jill probes.

“She is. She can frustrate me to no end, but isn’t that’s the way it supposed to be?”

“It is, but Nora,” Jill hesitates, “I don’t want to, I mean I know it’s none of my business, but how do you think with you two working together and then with the added stress of you not being out she’s going to handle that? How long?”

My mouth pinches. It’s definitely a worry of mine. “I trust her,” is all I can manage. “I mean I love her, she knows that. She loves me and I know that.” I bite my lower lip and worry it a bit.

“I just worry,” Jill admits. “I like Nikki don’t get me wrong, I think she’s the best thing to happen to you since you met me,” she grins at me with the last comment and I roll my eyes.

“Trust me, if I could, I’d do something more permanent and solidifying if I could with her.”

“Marriage?” Jill asks.

“Uh, what?” My eyes grow large at the thought. Marriage…is she crazy?

“Well, it’s pretty permanent,” she supplies. “Like for me, I try to think about life before Annie…before we became friends even and it’s hard. It feels like she was always there or maybe that I was always just waiting for her to show up so I could get on with life.”

“Tell that to fifty-two percent of married couples that are going to be divorced. And to me, it’s like, I don’t need a government sanctioned piece of paper to tell me that Nikki’s the one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.” I grumble. “Not that you and Ann didn’t do the right thing. That’s for you guys. You and Ann are more traditional than you seem. I know that. You like the white picket fences thing. It’s not something I ever saw myself being a part of.”

She shoots me a look. Her left eyebrow raised in question. “I don’t think you ever saw yourself part of it because you’ve never let yourself think about it. I know marriage isn’t the final step in the road to commitment. Getting in a relationship is easy, getting married more so, but making it work and committing to keeping it alive, that’s a daily choice and conscious effort.” Her mouth frowns and then she amends, “I just think that you’re in a position where you can think long term, if you want. She wants that with you Nora, maybe not a ring on her finger, but she wants some commitment from you other than a shared mortgage payment.”

Jill pulls her left hand from her coat pocket and runs her hand through her hair. “I mean really, how fucking unromantic is that. ‘Hey babe, I love you, I’m going to take care of half the bills.’ She deserves more than that, Nora and so do you.”

Looking around the area, I gather my thoughts before I respond to her small rant. I notice a few places open. A bar, a gas station and two tattoo shops…then an image of Nikki and I in bed together, my head nestled in the crook of her arm, her fingers running through my hair and us slightly sticky from making love. My thoughts from that night right after we got back together after our break come rushing through.

“You’re right. She does.” I pull her across the street to the tattoo shop that looks the cleaner of the two. “Being in the closet isn’t easy. Nikki deserves better than that and I tried to get her to see reason, but she won’t and I’m grateful.”

Jill stops short as I try to enter the shop. “Nora?”

I turn to her and take her other hand. I lock eyes with her and say, “She needs to know that I’m dead serious. Jill, I’m hers. I want to show her that. What better way than this?”

Her eyebrow quirks again as she searches my eyes. I don’t know what she’s looking for, but at some point she must find it. Her chin dips and she quits resisting as I pull her into the tattoo shop. An idea of what I want already forming in my head. A little piece of calm settles into my chest as we step into the warm lobby and a worker greets us. Nikki’s already in my heart, more than I thought a person could be. I may as well get it etched someplace visible.

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