Title: Olo-Zherka

Author: Saavant

Contact: saavaant @ yahoo . com

Series: TOS

Rating: [Explicit]

Codes: Sarek/Amanda

Part: 1/1

Summary: A certain clan of Vulcans has thought of a logical reason to attend an orgy.

Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns the copyrights on Sarek, Amanda, and the planet Vulcan, Diane Duane owns the copyright on T'Khut, the fans responsible for this fest own whatever copyright there may be on the Rumairie celebration, and the quote "Only a Vulcan could think of a logical reason to attend an orgy" is from Saklani. TPTB wouldn't approve of the things their characters are doing in any of these stories, and mine is not an exception. I give them no credit for this scenario, I take no credit for their characters, and I ask for no payment beyond the occasional feedback, so they should leave me pretty much alone.

Notes: Part of the Rumairie FuQ Fest. My challenge was to write about Amanda's first Rumairie with Sarek.

Archive: Sure




"You still haven't told me where we're going," said Amanda, glancing out the window of the groundcar at the desert scenery passing endlessly by. They had been driving for hours, and nighttime was beginning to dull the red of the sky now almost dominated by the ghostly outline of Vulcan's sister planet.

"On the contrary, I have," her husband replied, his mouth quirking upward just slightly.

"I may be a mere illogical human," was the retort, accompanied by a teasing smile, "but I hardly classify it as 'telling' when a person who's never heard the words 'Rumairie,' 'Olo-Zherka' and 'Rillan' is informed that she's being taken to the former, sponsored by the latter, where there will be lots of the third."

Sarek glanced over to meet his wife's eyes for a second. She was feigning irritation, but not putting much effort into it; the excitement and curiosity shining through her playful spars could not be overlooked. "Patience, aduna. One of your most frequent complaints concerning life on Vulcan, if I recall correctly, is the shortage of surprises. And I guarantee that in a few moments you shall be thoroughly surprised."


It was not much later that Amanda gasped aloud as the car came to a halt near the edge of what could almost have been termed a forest. Tropical plants, some resembling cacti, palms, or bromeliads, some unlike anything she had ever seen before, populated the soil in a tangle of foliage that started with a gradually denser growth of the usual assortment of desert succulents and soon thickened to a jungle of stems, branches, trunks and vines, permeated by strange intoxicating floral smells.

Amanda had seen an oasis or two since coming to live on Vulcan nearly a year ago, but they had been little more than mud puddles, with a few extra cacti growing around them, and perhaps some lizard-like creatures basking nearby. Here was a tropical wilderness she had never imagined existing on this planet. The plants were like something out of a Terran rainforest, and the moisture she felt in the air spoke of a large body of fresh water not far away.

"It's beautiful! But could you tell me one of those words, please?" she entreated. "Now that you've brought me here? Just a hint?"

Sarek smiled inwardly. There were so many hints and half-answers he could give her, to prolong the teasing a bit more. He could say that Rumairie was the celebration of the fullest phase of the sister planet T'Khut. Or that Rillan was an oil-based lotion extracted from the center of a rare southern cactus. He decided, however, on Olo-Zherka. It would, if nothing else, make the festival a bit easier for her to understand.

"You do recall the Golic Vulcan terms for 'logic' and 'emotion,'" he began, and Amanda nodded and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I have been discussing them quite thoroughly with my students of late. Some of them come into the class most annoyingly convinced that *cthia* is the only word for logic. I can't count the number of times the past month I've had to say, '*Cthia* is logic in the sense of the laws of reason that govern reality, *olozhika* is logic in the sense of using those laws to draw conclusions and achieve one's goals.' You ever had a word or phrase that you just started to hate after a while because you had to say it so much?"

"I... can comprehend the concept. I hope, however, that you have not grown to hate *cthia* and *olozhika* in themselves from your lengthy association with their names."

"Not if you haven't come to hate *zherka*," returned Amanda, smiling coquettishly up at him.

"Indeed I have not. This organization with which I am closely allied, the one hosting the festival we are to attend, combines in its very name the terms for logic and emotion. The Olo-Zherka believe that emotions are logical, having developed for useful reasons, and while some may no longer be necessary, neither is it logical to ignore them completely." Sarek extended a hand to his wife, smiling when Amanda touched his fingers with hers. "We experience love and affection because it encourages us to take a mate, to form and sustain a family, to cooperate with others for our mutual benefit. We feel curiosity because it leads to our making new discoveries that may help us in the future. We fear because it compels us to escape from dangerous situations. The grief we feel each time we experience a great loss is a powerful incentive to do what we can to avoid such losses. And desire..." He raised her hand to his lips. "...is the most basic emotion of all."

"Really, Sarek," said Amanda, blushing. "It's patently uncharacteristic of you to say such things."

"I refer not only to the desire I have for you," Sarek protested, after silencing her with an affectionate kiss, "or even, necessarily, to any of the ardent passions traditionally associated with the word. Even if it is merely the wish not to die, a sensation of desiring or wanting something is the ultimate origin of all our actions. Every choice is made because we know, or believe, that it would cause us pleasure, or a displeasure less great than the alternative would bring."

"I don't know, Sarek." Amanda caressed his hand with a dubious expression on her gentle face. "The captain of that cargo ship the other day in the news, who self-destructed to keep the Klingons from getting their hands on that top-secret machinery he had inside..."

"Would not have done it," Sarek finished for her, "if he believed he would be happier with a lifetime of knowing he was responsible for giving his enemies a dangerous weapon, than with a few moments' knowledge, before his death, that they would never have it. There is self-interest even in altruism, Amanda, Beloved. We would not perform kind deeds for others if it did not please us to know we had done so."

"And this is what the Olo-Zherka preach?" said Amanda, intrigued by the concept.

"Not only preach, but practice," Sarek replied. "Their chief tenet is that, since all actions are, in essence, attempts at attaining happiness, any action that brings one happiness is logical, as long as it makes no one unhappy. And..." Sarek smiled wryly. "...the Olo-Zherka have a great history of doing what brings them happiness. They are the main practitioners, planetwide, of the Rumairie festival."

"Could you *please* define that term for me?" entreated Amanda impatiently. "I've waited nicely all day."

"In a moment, you shall see for yourself," Sarek assured her, pushing aside a curtain of vines and stepping into the coolness of the forest.




Amanda expected to have to accustom her eyes to the lower light, but it turned out to be brighter under the trees than outside. Glowing lanterns were mounted on tall poles and interspersed throughout the forest, flames burning inside glass globes, each one painted with a strange mottled pattern and tinted a shade that made one think of red and orange and yellow all at once, but still did not dim the light shining through it. The lamps were everywhere, lining paths paved with red desert stones, stairways up and down tiny hillocks, endless moss-covered couches and benches built of sandstone or carved from fallen trees or dug into the thick soil of the oasis... and two wide, almost perfectly circular pools, possibly fed by hot springs, she judged by the steam rising from them up into the already slightly chilly air.

The trees did not grow as densely as they had appeared to when seen from outside; this oasis was more like a grand building than anything else, with the thickest growth forming the wall, and the sparser concentration of trees within serving as beautiful pillars to the emerald ceiling above. Though the wide palm-like leaves of the tallest trees roofed most of the enclosure, a path seemed to have been cleared from one side of it to the other, so that a dusky arch of still-glowing maroon sky dominated the small forest, like a rainbow with T'Khut at the end.

"We are early," Sarek noted with some disappointment, as he stood behind Amanda gazing out the open end of the cleared pathway and watching Vulcan's sister planet rise slowly from her place just over the horizon.

"It's lovely here, anyway," murmured Amanda. "Why did we push in through the wall instead of walking in through one of the ends of that?"

"The pathway is for T'Khut," Sarek explained. "When these trees were planted, great care was taken that that particular area of the sky, through which the planet would pass on the night of Rumairie, was left open. None of the participants in the festival may walk in it; it is reserved for her. Hence the flowers."

As Sarek gestured toward the path, Amanda looked closer and saw that indeed it was planted thickly with some succulent-leafed ground cover, resplendent in full bloom with delicate round blossoms of a deep golden hue. The whole pathway, except at the midpoint where a small stone bridge crossed it, glittered enticingly with the little plants. A fitting pavement for T'Khut's heavenly passage, Amanda could not help but think. Various grasses and mosses and lichens carpeted the forest floor all over, just as leaves and vines and bromeliads adorned the ceiling and the pillars, and frequently her eyes would chance upon some tropical petals in the midst of the green, but those small dark-yellow spheres nestled amid sparkles of lamplight glancing off shiny little leaves reminded her of nothing more than planets like T'Khut roving among the stars.

There was something magical about this whole place, something secret and delightful, like a hidden faery garden in the books she used to read long ago on Earth... and yet something almost forbidden, sensual, deeply exciting.

Without thinking about it, she had leaned her back against Sarek's chest and shivered with joy as she felt his arms encircle her from behind, clasping across her breasts as his lips wandered over her hair and the tips of her ears. When she felt him mouthing their roundness, darting his tongue inside, then behind, then bending lower to nibble on the lobes, she leaned further into his embrace and felt a fiery hardness pushing back against her. Their legs intertwining, she felt they were about to fall over.

"We can't," she gasped as they both grabbed onto a nearby tree trunk for support. "Not this. Not here."

"Ah, but we can," Sarek whispered to her, following the gentle protest with a leisurely lick all the way around the edge of her left ear. "Take a good look around you, Beloved, and see what you make of this Rumairie festival."

In the moments they had been lost in each other, Amanda noticed as she glanced around, some other guests had begun to arrive. In the distance, on the other side of the Pathway of T'Khut, a Vulcan man and woman in long traditional robes had pushed aside some tall grasses and entered through the wall of the enclosure. They stood there for a while, admiring the enchanted forest garden in silence.

Close to the Pathway, a young Vulcan, barely out of adolescence, made his way between the trees. He too stood in awe for a moment, then dropped his robe to the floor and stepped into the warm water of the pool.

"Sarek, he's not wearing anyth..." began Amanda, but the power of speech left her for a moment when her husband's arousal pressed more firmly between the backs of her thighs and his hands stroked slowly, deliberately down her ribs, over her hips and around to the closure at the front of her robe.

Two young women pushed in past the vines through which Sarek and Amanda had entered just minutes ago. They wore the popular Vulcan robes, no different from what one wore to work, but embroidered with rather unfamiliar characters. They walked all the way to the edge of the Pathway, and sat down on a stone bench thickly upholstered with moist green moss.

A Vulcan man, saturnine, dignified, somewhat like Sarek himself, appeared by the pool on the nearer side of the Pathway. His eyes met those of one of the women on the bench and she got up to meet him. They clasped each other's hands, then suddenly their robes were down around their heels and he was leaning against a wide mossy tree trunk and her legs were straddled across him and they were rocking back and forth, completely naked, heads thrown back, groaning in pleasure.

Sarek had undone the sash of Amanda's robe and was exploring inside it. She wore slacks and a shirt underneath and the feeling of her mate's hand cupped between her fully clothed legs was incredibly arousing and she pushed against its heat, and then against the greater heat pressing eagerly behind her, and moaned.

A middle-aged Vulcan lady carrying a wide round tray had come in through the wall somewhere; on the tray were eight or ten round greenish objects that looked like melons with the very tops cut off, and she was walking up to the first man and woman who had entered and handing the man one of them, and he dipped his hand into it and pulled it out and smelled it and began breathing rather heavily.

The woman next to him wandered off, crossed the bridge over T'Khut's Pathway, glanced at the woman leaning against the tree with the dignified Vulcan man, then moved on and sat down on the bench next to the woman who had come in with that one, and their arms went around each other and they began undoing each other's robes and rubbing their bodies together, touching each other everywhere, licking each other's faces, biting at the points of each other's ears and lying back on the wide bench, robes wide open but covering them so all that could be seen were their kissing, licking, biting faces and their ankles wrapped around each other, twisting and convulsing.

Sarek's breath rasped as the palm of his right hand caressed Amanda's groin, feeling her trembling and bucking into it, and his left explored hungrily underneath her shirt, and his aching sex pushed insistently at her from behind. Oh, he had forgotten the sensations of Rumairie, the incredibly erotic feeling of touching and being touched in this enchanted grove bathed in the warm light of the lamps and the cool heavenly light of Sister T'Khut, with the sounds and the motions and the warmth of people of the Olo-Zherka touching each other all around him. He had indeed been somewhat afraid that it would not appeal to Amanda, and her enthusiastic responses made his pulse speed with excitement. His bondmate from childhood, the quencher of his first Fire, had consented to come with him a few times, but she was so cool and reserved in nature that it had never interested her greatly. To share this with one who found it as arousing as he did, who reacted to his touch like this, was... he could not think of words to describe it.

The boy in the pool stood up and walked over to the man with the melon-like fruit in his hand, and smelled him and rubbed against him, and the man reached into what he was holding and brought out a hand shining with some kind of grease and rubbed it on the boy's face, and then down his neck and his back and between his legs, and opened his own robe and sat down on the ground, pulling the boy down with him, and they were tangled up together and moving against each other and rubbing the grease all over each other's bodies...

Amanda twisted around in Sarek's embrace, grabbed him by the arms and sent them both collapsing into a mossy, lichened bench dug into the side of a little hill, panting as they wrestled with the tangle of their limbs.

"So this... is what.... Rumairie... is," gasped Amanda as she spread her legs across her husband and ripped open the front of his robe, exposing his black undershirt and black trousers swollen to bursting with his aching flesh. "Only... a Vulcan... could find...a logical reason... for an orgy!"

Sarek could only groan as his bondmate wrapped her legs around him and began pushing her groin against his, and they moved, pressing, rubbing, grinding, finally bucking violently, fabric slick and hot and wet between them, arms wrapped around arms, heads flung back in desperate passion, one scream as the final burst of heat and wetness burned and soaked them both and they fell limp into exhausted nothingness.




Amanda woke to find herself sprawled across Sarek's body, their clothes sticky all over with perspiration, and particularly sticky between their legs, where they were pressed together. They were still on a moss-covered bench nestled in among tropical bushes, and she felt that it must be late at night, but it was not nearly as cold as it usually got, outdoors at night on Vulcan; rather, it was quite warm. There was noise everywhere, like the noise of a crowd, and after looking around and listening to the noise for a moment, Amanda remembered where she was.

The party was in full swing by now, it seemed. Throughout the enchanted forest, hordes of Vulcan men and women writhed together on benches, on the ground, in the pools, up against trees. Some were still fully dressed, some scantly, most not at all. Men were entangled with women, women with women, men with men, indiscriminately... often a group of three or four (sometimes all of one gender, sometimes including both) could be seen doing quite interesting things. There was a strange, faintly spicy scent hanging in the air, reminiscent of the cinnamon and sandalwood she and Sarek had played with occasionally. Many of the bodies gleamed with some slick oil.

*Vulcans. Always full of surprises,* she thought, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on her mate's slightly open lips. Sliding her hands inside his shirt, she began to undo the fasteners. He did not wake as her soft fingers played energetically over his chest, but his breathing accelerated, and she felt him swell again under the seam of his pants that was stuck so tightly to hers.

Soon she had his shirt off, and her own, and succeeded in removing both sets of trousers and underpants without pulling them apart from each other. With a small smile of satisfaction she tossed them to the ground, still adhered together, and began to kiss and lick the now naked body of her bondmate.

As Amanda was mouthing the softness of his neck and shoulder, Sarek awoke, and reciprocated, sucking gently at the sensitive area where a pinch with his fingers could have rendered her unconscious. His arms curled up around her back, and she sighed softly as he massaged her shoulder blades, her spine, her waist, then moved to cup her buttocks in eager hands, arching to push his hardness against her as he pulled her closer to himself. She could feel his ridges flare as he rubbed himself on her stomach, moaning in intense pleasure and even more intense need.

The face of a Vulcan female interrupted them, the same lady who had given the melon-shaped thing to the man over on the other side of the Pathway. Not a young face, but a pleasant one, leaning over them and asking Sarek something in Vulcan. She spoke rapidly, and in a dialect that Amanda did not understand, but Sarek responded with an affirmative gesture and took the object she offered him.

Seeing it for the first time close up, Amanda realized it was not a melon, but more like a short and barrel-shaped cactus without needles, or perhaps with the needles removed; the underside still had some small dried roots trailing from it, and the skin bore the irregular lumps and mottled light and dark green pigmentation of the Vulcan equivalent of cacti. The top had indeed been cut off, leaving an opening just large enough for a hand to reach into the hollow interior. Characters of the Vulcan phonetic alphabet had been carved into the side, and Amanda examined them and murmured the sounds they represented: "R...ie...l...ah...n."

With a smile, Sarek passed her the unusual vessel and lay back, waiting to see what she would do. Still straddling her husband's trembling form, Amanda slid three fingers sensuously inside the cactus, her eyes not leaving his, and drew them out coated with a thick and fragrant oil. The corners of her mouth twisting up seductively, she brought the hand to her face and inhaled its aroma deeply. Yes, it was indeed similar to sandalwood, with a touch of cinnamon. Sarek's pupils dilated and his skin grew suddenly very warm.

Experimenting, she trailed the slick fingers along the upward sweep of one of Sarek's eyebrows, then the other, then down his jaw and chin, and to the pulse point of his throat. His nostrils flared, his breathing quickened; she could feel his heart accelerate to the point she couldn't tell one beat from the next. Swollen ridges throbbed against her abdomen as she leaned down to press her body more fully to his, licking the sweet oil from his face.

"Please..." whispered a voice now hardly recognizable, it had become so rough with desire. Sarek writhed under the touch of Amanda's fingers; he was so hard now he could barely stand it. Both her hands were now stroking him, slippery with the Rillan, sliding up and down his neck and shoulders and ribs, and lower, tantalizingly lower...

"Yes!" he gasped as she took his leaking hardness in a gentle grasp, slick fingers tightening around him expertly, working the smooth oil into his tingling skin, into the very tip, under and between the ridges. The feeling of Rillan was as erotic to a Vulcan as the smell, when the essences so close in chemical composition to the Terran-imported aphrodisiacs began to filter through the skin and into the bloodstream... "Yesss... Oh!"

She felt it, the moment he began to lose control, the motion and throbbing of the flesh in her hand became a violent jerking, the thrusts of the hips beneath her grew faster and harder, his head fell back on the soft moss and each muscle and tendon in his face and neck and shoulders tensed and flushed in desperate arousal... and with one final climactic seizure a flood of pearly fluid was spurting all over his chest and he was screaming, screaming her name...




When he regained consciousness she was licking him clean, and her fingers, now wet with his own essence as well as the Rillan, were massaging his arms and hands, sending shivers of pleasure through his entire body. Soon she moved to sit astride him again, and her right hand pulled his left into a gentle handclasp.

"I am finding this... Rumairie... most fascinating," she whispered lasciviously, pressing the tips of her index and middle fingers to his. His breath caught as they trailed moistly down the back of his hand and up his thumb to the point where their fingertips met again, the oil between them sensitizing the already sensitive skin of his hands to every touch, every texture of the whorls of her fingertips, each tiny scrape of her neatly trimmed nails. He could feel the lightest caress of her thoughts through the contact, and twined his fingers more tightly with hers, trying to deepen the mind touch.

*I am... pleased... that you... enjoy it,* he managed to send to her, his breath already coming faster and harder from the motion of her oil-slicked fingers on his. *I... had hoped... you would not... find it... repellent.*

*Repellent! I've never had so much fun in my life!* Amanda laughed softly, knowing she was telling the truth. Rather startling, it had been at first, the speed with which she had gotten caught up in the pleasure of this strange festival, but it was turning her on in ways she'd never been turned on before, to lie here with Sarek in the cool moss of this faeryland of an oasis, with the soft sensual sounds of lovemaking all around them, and the smells of aroused bodies and Rillan.

She sank her hands again into the hollow cactus and smiled at Sarek's sharp intake of breath when the next touch of their fingers was even more slick and fragrant than before. Both her hands were stroking his now, erogenous fingertips gliding together so smoothly, and she could feel all the sensations he did, and laughed in wonder as she found the blood rushing to his loins yet again.

*Three times? Are you sure you're not in...* She stopped herself a second too late, remembering how difficult it had been for Sarek to explain to her what he endured every seventh year, and knowing that, however open he might be to unusual sexual practices, the normal ones of Vulcan life shamed him as much as any of his people. And, if one accepted the premise that what embarrassed Vulcans was a lapse in logic, she could understand. The pon farr was a total loss of control, of the ability to reason, while this took away no more capacity of rational thought than fairly intense arousal, which was indeed what it was.

Sarek, though, was too wrapped up in their pleasure to notice her breach of propriety. *Rillan tends ... to have... this effect... upon one's system,* he answered, fresh perspiration breaking out on his face at the continued stimulation of his fingers. *It is not... uncommon... for a participant... in Rumairie... still to be excited... at this point.*

A wicked thought occurred to her then, and she disentangled one hand from their caress and slicked it again quite thoroughly inside the cactus. *At which point,* she asked devilishly, touching an oiled finger to the very tip of his right ear, *are you excited? This point?* He lurched up at the contact, and she replied with a soft laugh. *Yes, I see you are. How about this point?* And Rillan-coated fingers were suddenly around his left ear, massaging it sensually, pushing down on the tip and exploring the sharp cartilaginous arch hidden under the soft and flushing skin, feeling it bend and spring back when pressure was released. Sarek gasped harshly and the hips pinned by Amanda's knees began to buck up under her. *Yes, you are very excited at more than one point, Sarek, my love. Most interesting. I see I shall have to go over those two points of interest again, very thoroughly.*

The rich tone of her mental voice made Sarek shiver. While the skin of his hands, as in most Vulcans, was a highly erogenous zone, his ears were just as sensitive, perhaps more so, and Amanda knew it. The instant her mouth closed over her first "point of interest," he seized her upper arms in his slippery hands, letting out a desperate groan.

Almost before either of them knew what was happening, they had rolled over in the wide moss-lined seat, Sarek had Amanda on her back, and there was only a second to accustom themselves to the reversal of their previous positions before he had plunged into her, shouting hoarsely in pleasure, and was thrusting hard, his hands clasping her hips against him, his mouth enthusiastically exploring her neck. Barely thrown off for a moment, she turned her head, seized the tip of his right ear in her teeth, and held onto his body as hard as she could, pushing back against him as he bucked into her with a wild scream, bit her, and exploded violently.




They were both dead to the world for some time. Amanda woke to Sarek's fingers between her legs, stroking her inside with the Rillan. She reached over and grabbed the cactus sitting in the moss by her head, turning it on its side and peering into it. It was already half empty.

"This stuff is sure strong," she commented as Sarek leaned his head into her lap and kissed her. "Ohh..."

Moving slowly along her skin, gently nibbling and licking at the inside of her thigh, Sarek suddenly found a soft wetness surrounding the tip of one ear, and moaned against her. He moved to push the sensitive point deeper into that moist haven, and soon he was clasped between her legs, one thigh caressing the hairs at the back of his neck, his face pressed into the other, his eartip clenched tightly in the spasming flesh of his mate, her hands tangled in his hair. "Oh, yes," he heard, and for a moment he couldn't tell whether he or she had said it, and then realized it was both.

Amanda thrust her hips back against the delicious sensation, clutching at her mate and moving until--oh yes, that firm pointed shape with the so-hot skin was pressing right into the center of her sex, and she could feel the echo of what Sarek felt, a small solid form pushed up against that sensitive tip... oh, *yes*!!

And they were both moving, his teeth were tightening on the flesh of her thigh, her moisture was seeping out, leaking into his ear, his hand was clenching around his own engorged member, and they were climaxing with deep harsh groans, collapsing in a pile of exhausted limbs and drifting again into deep sleep.


It seemed like a lifetime later that, slowly, simultaneously, they opened their eyes. Sarek, curled up between Amanda's legs, stretched the cramps out of his back and spread himself out to lie down fully beside her, sighing happily at the more comfortable position and resting his hand on her shoulder.

"Look, love," she whispered, pointing up at the top of the arch of open sky among the trees.

"I see," Sarek answered, stroking his wife lazily. "T'Khut has already traversed her path halfway."

"Slow walker, isn't she," murmured Amanda with a half-chuckle.

"We should be thankful for that." Sarek's lips, smiling against her breast.

"Oh yes indeed." Amanda's legs curling up around him.

"Are you satisfied now of the meaning of Rumairie?" Hands in Amanda's hair.

"I think I have a pretty good idea of what it is now." A small laugh into Sarek's mouth as they kissed.

"And you agree that it is logical?"

"On the premise that a logical action causes us happiness and causes no one unhappiness?"

"On that premise."

"Hmmm..." Fingers in the Rillan cactus, fingers intertwined with each other. "You see anyone unhappy because of us?"

Eyes glancing briefly around at scores of naked Vulcans, wrapped up in each other. "No one appears unhappy here, that I can discern."

"You happy?"

Lips meeting again, parting, only briefly. "Very. And you?"


"Then it's logical."






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