I need to explain a couple of things before you read this. It is a story within a story. I had some requests to do another domestic scene with bluefooted's AU Kuroro family. Our own artist bluefooted did several comics featuring Kurt and Ororo and their three AU kiddies. If you've never seen any of her work, here's a link to the pic that started the whole thing - Wish
I hope she doesn’t mind my borrowing her AU family for another fic. I planned on doing the entire story on this AU family, but another plot bunny got a hold of me and I just couldn't put it aside, so I combined the two, thus the "Reverie" part of the title.
I hope I'm not stepping on any toes of those who may have already considered using the Uncanny #455 preview, and if you have, by all means continue. The second part of the story takes off where that preview ended. If you haven’t seen the preview yet, take a look on the Nightscrawler forum before you read this story. I know there isn't a snowball's chance in you know where of it really ending this way, but this is how I wish it would end.
A Christmas Reverie
“Are the kids all settled?” Kurt inquired as his tail curled around a small yellow dump truck discarded among the couch cushions, adding it to the pile of toys cradled in his arms. With all the adoring “aunties” and “uncles” at Xavier’s, they had way too many gifts than was rightly acceptable for any three children on the face of the earth. Kurt chuckled at the thought, shaking his head. But it also meant that they got plenty of love; a thing there could never be too much of, in his opinion.
“Yes, finally,” Ororo called from the kitchen, “I thought Peter was never going to stop talking about that new video game Warren bought him. Honestly, you’d think we are already training our kids to become X-Men, virtually speaking. I’m not sure an eight-year-old is ready for the combat intensity of that game, even if it’s only on a screen.”
Looking up as he lifted the corner toy box with his tail, he deposited the various and sundry collected items owned by three children ranging in ages eight to two. He’d sort them out later. Right now all he wanted was a little blessed quiet time with the woman he’d chosen as his mate. “He’s growing up pretty fast meine Liebe. We may be finding out sooner than we want what kind of powers he’s inherited from us.” Except for his golden eyes and tridactyl hands, Peter took after his mother, and Kurt secretly wished he would inherit his mother’s abilities as well. What a formidable ally he would be in years to come. But that was neither here nor there. Children of mutants didn’t always mirror their parent’s talents.
All three of their offspring had inherited their father’s pointed ears, obviously a dominant trait. Of the three, Moira their youngest most resembled her father. With blue fur soft as down and golden eyes, the only thing of his she lacked was the tail. Already she was showing signs of being an outrageous flirt, batting her eyelashes at any male who dare try to deny her anything, she had half the mansion wrapped around her tiny fingers. Rachel, the middle child, was a blend of them both. Soft brown fur covered her body, although her hair was indigo blue. Her hands sported the normal ten digits. Extremely precocious at the tender age of five and a half and the favorite of Kätzchen, who was determined to teach her everything that she knew about computers before the girl reached the age of ten.
Kurt stood on the edge of the family room; hands folded on his chest, his eyes sought out more things to tidy. Finding none he turned to a large bay window seat that faced the lake, one of his favorite features of the home they’d built on the grounds of Xavier’s Institute. Deep and roomy with shelves below that held a variety of novels and a dark wine colored cushion in burgundy velvet. One could curl up in it and have the most marvelous view, and if the heavy drapes were drawn, shut out the rest of the world for a time.
Sinking into the thick comfort of the window seat, he slid back until his spine rested against one side, the knee closest to the glass bent and his other leg stretched out, his tail sweeping quietly back and forth until it almost brushed the floor. It was snowing again, thick flakes lazily fluttering out of the dark sky to hit the warm panes, melting as they slid down the glass. The children would be thrilled on awakening to a new layer of snow added to that already on the ground. Large wet flakes usually meant snowmen and snowball fights. They’d been rather disappointed at the last dry powder. Fine for skiing but not for child’s play. He wondered vaguely if it was his wife’s doing. He opened his mouth to ask her, shutting it again as she moved into the doorway.
Her hair was down, waves of silky white falling over her shoulders. Backlit by the glow of the kitchen light her tresses almost seemed to float about her like an aura. She never failed to make his breath catch when he saw her thus. Beautiful as ever, the years of married life and child bearing in no way dimming the loveliness that was Ororo Munroe Wagner, at least not in her husband’s eyes. Dressed in a soft blue turtleneck that matched her eyes and black stretch pants tight at the ankles, she was carrying a steaming mug in either hand. An angel of mercy if he’d ever seen one.
Ororo looked a little confused at first, her eyes darting around the room in search of Kurt. He opened his mouth to draw her attention, but just that quickly she found his glowing eyes in the shadows. With a smile that would melt the heart of the Grinch himself, she crossed the room to him. “Thought you might like something warm and soothing.” She bent to kiss him before handing him the piping hot mug but not before breathing in the rich aroma, deep and intoxicating.
He accepted the mug happily, wrapping his hands around the warmth of it. “What is it?” He asked before inhaling deeply himself. “Mmm, it smells divine.”
“My blend of Kenyan coffee, the one I save for special occasions. I added a little cinnamon to it. I thought we deserved a little relaxation after the day we’ve been through.”
Kurt reached up to her. “Let me take that for a moment. Come here and get comfortable with me Liebchen, then we can talk.” He moved his right leg so that his unshod foot rested on the floor.
Ororo handed him her mug, which he placed on the windowsill beside his own. She sat on the cushion and allowed Kurt to draw her against his back between his legs before curling her own within their sheltering warmth. Nestling against the corner, Kurt wrapped one arm around the softness of her body as she leaned her head against his shoulder. His tail wrapped itself snugly around her knees.
“There, that’s much better,” he said quietly as he handed the mug back to her waiting hands.” She smelled wonderfully of nutmeg, evergreen and new fallen snow, all the fantastic scents of Christmas rolled into one from the activities of the day. His team leader and powerful defender of the dream, his lover, his wife, the mother of his children, more than he’d ever felt he was worthy of and yet... here she was... snuggled within his arms. Times like these made him happy to be alive and more than ever he felt doubly blessed. He gathered up his own mug with one hand, gently stroking her arm with the other as he sipped the comforting draught. “You think the kids wore Logan out?” Nothing seemed to tire the Wolverine more than a bunch of over-eager children.
Ororo laughed softly before taking another sip of her coffee. “I’m not sure ‘wore out’ is the right word for it. Perhaps frazzled is more like it. And if anything got worn, it was probably his patience more than his stamina.” She laughed again at the image of the indomitable Wolverine, beaten down by a pack of children, elvish looking children at that. “You know he had a good time. He may complain about it fiercely, but I don’t think there’s anyplace he’d rather go for Christmas.
Kurt shifted so he could send her a teasing grin. “Ja, sure he had a good time. Did you think I didn’t see that lip lock you maneuvered him into?”
Ororo gave him a swat on the knee with her free hand. “What lip lock? Oh, you mean the peck he gave me when I accidentally stood under the mistletoe?”
“Accidentally? You stopped under it with a ‘come hither’ look in your eye. And it wasn’t directed at me.”
Ororo wasn’t sure, but it seemed that the teasing had suddenly become something more serious. She tried to keep it light by laughing, not sure that she succeeded. “Oh, come on Kurt. Yes, I did it on purpose, I confess. But it was only because he’d gotten that far away look in his eyes when the conversation turned to Japan. I sometimes wonder if he ever thinks he might have had what we have if things had gone differently with Yuriko.”
“That may be true, and I don’t mind your attempts to draw his mind off of hurtful memories, but kissing him passionately isn’t my idea of a good way to do it.”
Ororo could feel Kurt draw away slightly, his attention suddenly on the snowfall outside. “Passionately? It was barely more than a peck between friends.” Ororo nudged his arm with her elbow. “You’re not jealous are you Kurt... Kurt?”
Kurt didn’t answer at first. He wasn’t sure why he was being so stubborn. Perhaps he was just tired, but he had to admit a little pang of jealousy at the sight of his best friend holding his wife. “Well...maybe.” The conversation was getting a little uncomfortable. He hoped to God that his wife would just drop the subject.
However, Ororo felt the need to clear this immediately, before it had a chance to fester into something harmful to their relationship. “Logan is my good friend and always had been. There has never been anything more between us than that.”
It was the absolute truth, but she wasn’t sure he was listening. Ororo watched as his tail loosed it’s grasp on her knees and began tapping rhythmically against her calf as it curled and uncurled. Not a good sign. She shifted in his arms so she could see his face. He was watching the snow fall as if it were the most fascinating thing in all the world.
“Jealousy doesn’t become you, my love. Do you remember the first time you got jealous of Logan over my affections?” She nudged him lightly again hoping to get some response out of him.
He raised his hand, taking a sip of his coffee to wet his dry throat before finally turning his head. There was a smile on his lips, however wry. “How could I forget. Do you also recall that without that fit of jealousy? We might never have discovered how much we cared for each other.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Why don’t you enlighten me.” She looked up at him expectantly as she finished her coffee. Reaching across his stomach to place the empty mug on the windowsill, she snuggled into the warmth of his sweater. “Well, go ahead. Refresh my memory about that day in the danger room, the first time you saw Logan kiss me.”
Kurt took another sip from his mug. “All right, Ororo, I’ll humor you. It went like this....”
* * * * * * *
Ororo chose a seat uncomfortably nearer to a distraught Kurt for the German’s liking. He couldn’t look at her or Logan any longer. His chest suddenly felt like it held a lump of lead instead of a heart. He’d seen it coming, hadn’t he? First the date, then the tender way she’d cleaned his face the night X-23 had mauled him. Kurt recalled the gentle touches between himself and Storm, the knowing looks; ever since the night she’d come to his room with that verdammt image inducer and waltzed him into the night sky. He’d read it all wrong, hung his heart on false pathos. She didn’t care for him, at least not with the same strength that grew inside him every time her beautiful face turned his way, every day since she’d returned to the mansion. All the time, it was his best friend she wanted. He supposed he shouldn’t blame her. Lately he didn’t consider himself much of a catch.
“Kurt, it’s your turn. Let’s show ‘em how it’s done.” Kurt sat staring into space, Logan’s call not immediately filtering into his brain.
“Kurt! Did ya hear me? Let’s see what you can do against me, Elf.” Logan’s tone neared irritation at Kurt’s failure to respond.
Kurt looked up. Was Logan talking to him? They’d spent years sparring with each other. What more did he think he could teach a man who’d mastered the use of three swords at once?
“Nightcrawler, take the floor with Wolverine.” The authoritative manner of Storm’s words nearly unbalanced him, but Kurt rose reluctantly to his feet and did as she commanded.
As if sleepwalking, Kurt descended to the floor, stooping to retrieve the blade discarded by Ororo. The kiss played over and over in his mind; the sting of it every bit as sharp each time as it was the first.
He took the floor with less than enthusiastic speed. He didn’t need to prove his skill with a sword to anybody, least of all the members of his team. Didn’t Ororo have any confidence in his abilities? The thought stung almost as bad as that kiss he’d just witnessed.
Kurt planted his feet in a traditional martial arts stance, not the more familiar fencing position. He’d play Logan’s game, albeit his heart just wasn’t in it. The two traded only a handful of attacks and parries before Logan’s sword penetrated Kurt’s defenses, landing a blow to the German’s upper thigh. Kurt could hear the sympathetic groans of his teammates as the sword connected, and although the blow hurt, the greater damage was to his pride.
“What’sa matta’ Elf, can’t handle a katana?” Logan growled, exchanging the grip on his own blade as he bounced on the balls of his feet.
Now that irked Kurt acutely. True, he preferred a traditional sabre to the Japanese variety given the choice, but the form of sword shouldn’t have mattered. “I can take anything you can dish out pal,” he murmured between clenched teeth as he raised his sword once more. The statement soon turned out to be false bravado.
Normally the blow would have shocked him into taking greater care with his technique. This time he could only imagine what Ororo must be thinking, the realization further eroding his self-confidence. At every turn Logan was on the attack, pressing his advantage. This shouldn’t be happening, Logan was winded and he was fresh, but he was fighting like a novice. Such sloppiness in the field could have resulted in deadly consequences and he knew it. Small wonder Ororo had turned her attentions to Logan. He wasn’t worthy of the storm goddess. Even Rachel could have taken him.
More distracted then ever, it wasn’t long until he was at Logan’s mercy once again. This time his friend managed to disarm him, sending the practice blade clattering across the danger room floor, accompanied by the stunned reactions of their audience.
Kurt glared at Logan as he back-peddled to retrieve his fallen sword. He might be mistaken, but Wolverine appeared to be enjoying the trouncing he was handing the swashbuckling blue German. This shouldn’t be happening, Kurt chided himself, in no way was Logan his superior when it came to swordplay, despite the type of sword or the prohibition against using his powers.
Taking his characteristic crouch in order to pick up the katana and a quick breather, Kurt eyed the Wolverine suspiciously as the shorter man approached. If it was Logan’s intention to make a total fool out of him, the plan was succeeding, a nice way to cement his bond with Ororo by making Kurt look like a complete idiot.
The Canadian sneered down at him. In a voice lowered so only Kurt could hear he taunted, “You could never beat me... at anything.”
Kurt slowly rose to his feet with a change in attitude. You could never beat me... Is that how it was, best friend turned competitor? All was not fair in love and war. If Logan were determined to become his rival in this, as well as for Ororo’s affections, he wouldn’t find his pal taking the back seat, not any more.
Kurt had enough of this. He risked being accused of sharking, but his mind was set. He grit his teeth while approaching the Wolverine, resolution mingling with a growing rage over Logan’s ridicule.
He banished everything but the match at hand. If Logan wanted Nightcrawler the swashbuckler, Kurt would deliver, in spades. The next time Logan attacked he countered by launching himself forward, flipping over his startled friend and attacking from behind.
Logan twisted just barely in time to block a blow to the shoulder. “Well, you finally decided to behave like an X-Man. I thought you’d lost your touch Elf,” he jibed, teeth bared, “but it still ain’t gonna get you what you want.” Logan parried another of Kurt’s thrusts before aiming a kick at the German’s midsection.
Kurt dodged it with ease, leaping into the air, his foot aimed at Logan’s neck he missed the Canadian, but only by inches. As Kurt landed he punched back and swung with the katana, clipping Logan in the forearm.
The blow nearly disarmed the shorter X-Man. He let out a grunt of pain and stepped backwards. Panting heavily he raised his blade and motioned Kurt to come at him with his other hand. “Nice try Nightcrawler, better luck next time.”
Better luck next time? Logan is going to wish he’d never been born when I’m done with him, then the full force of Kurt’s fury kicked in. This time it was Logan who was beaten back again and again as Kurt’s blade connected with first his hip and then his shoulder.
Although they stung, Logan shook them off with a smirk, his smug attitude enraging Kurt even more. The Wolverine was clearly tired, but the stamina afforded him by his healing factor could out-distance Nightcrawler’s at need. Kurt knew he needed a decisive blow to end the match or Logan would simply outlast him, superior skill or not.
In complete battle mode and without thinking, Kurt bamfed behind Logan and brought the sword down with deadly force.
“No powers, Kurt!” Ororo screamed a second before the German’s sword connected.
It caught the Wolverine in the side of the head. Jarring the brain within his adamantium skull, Logan slumped to the ground unconscious. The same blow to a normal skull would have been bone crushing.
Logan lay still on the floor, a telltale trickle of blood seeping from the ear below the point of impact. It was as if someone put the scene on pause, for a second both stunned combatant and his audience remained motionless. Then sense came flooding back as Kurt threw down the practice sword and stormed out the door without a backward glance.
Ororo nearly flew from the bleachers, her feet barely touching the floor. She stood over her fallen teammate for a moment, assessing the damage.
“Bishop, see to Logan.” Storm commanded. Perhaps she should, but she had no doubt that the Wolverine would heal as he always did. She was far too concerned about her second. What could have motivated Kurt to go at Logan with such rage? Perhaps he wasn’t as stable as she’d supposed when she asked him to join her X.S.E. team.
Ororo launched herself out the door and down the hall. She was surprised that he was still in sight. She’d automatically assumed he would teleport as soon as he cleared the danger room.
In moments she’d caught up with his heavy footsteps. His shoulders drooped and although she was sure he knew she was closing on him, he didn’t pick up his pace or turn his head. He merely plodded on as if he’d lost his best friend. Then again, maybe he had.
Ororo cried out as she caught up to him, “Kurt, stop.” She reached out to touch his arm, but he shouldered her off and kept moving.
She reached out for him again, “Kurt, don’t make me hurt you.”
Feeling the trademark pin pricks of static electricity dancing off her fingers, Kurt whirled to face her. “Too late, you already have.”
The emotions playing across his face where almost a physical blow to Ororo. Anger, guilt, pain, and something less definable, they were all there. Whatever was going on inside him that would possess him to attack his best friend so mercilessly, that she could not comprehend.
Kurt made a move to brush past his team leader again, but this time she was ready. Ororo grabbed both arms and pinned him against the wall of the corridor. “Kurt, talk to me.” His breath was coming quickly as he struggled halfheartedly in her hold, this time giving in with a defeated sigh. The only sound for a few seconds was their own panting breaths as they studied each other. Ororo’s heart pounded in her chest from both exertion and worry over him. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you. We can talk this out, my friend.”
“I’m through with talk Ororo. When has it ever gotten me anywhere.” Kurt barked. Then his expression changed, his accent thickening as the anger slowly drained away, replaced with a deep anguish. “Do you and Logan enjoy inciting these feelings within me. Is this some king of game to you?”
Her mouth dropping open in a quiet gasp, Ororo searched her thoughts for the source of that statement. When she finally latched onto the reason for his behavior it almost blew her mind away. He was jealous? She was so confused she stammered out the first thing that popped into her head. “Goddess Kurt, you were going to kiss Rachel, I... “thought you’d lost interest in me. She couldn’t finish the sentence as her mind reeled. If this were indeed a fit of jealous rage, then that would mean...
Kurt’s brows knit as she struggled with the words. The silence was so profound he longed to fill it with something, anything to take away what her closeness was doing to him. Her hands were still on his arms and her body pressed against him with every heaving breath. The gentleman within him was trying desperately to clamp down on the desire the warm length of her was awaking. But his emotions were running entirely out of control until finally something snapped. One fleeting thought, to hell with chivalry, before he suddenly turned the tables on her. Reaching up to grasp her arms just above the elbows, Kurt spun them both until it was Ororo who was pinned. Perhaps he wasn’t through talking after all. Now she would listen to him.
“That was a momentary lapse, a mistake.” The words tumbled out of his mouth, no will remaining to stop them. “Ach... It’s you Ororo, I... I’m falling in love with you.” Of all the romantic ways he’d dreamed of telling her how he felt, blurting it out in the middle of a corridor during a heated argument was not one of them. If he’d ever had any possible chance with her, he’d probably ruined it forever.
However, the woman he loved and desired was within his hands, incredibly soft and warm. He’d held her many times before, but somehow this was different. Her fragrance surrounded him, making his heart ache. He moved as if in a dream, hands sliding down her sides to wrap around her waist, all the while his eyes remaining locked with hers. Ororo made no move to push him aside or impede his movements. If anything she leaned closer, breath coming even faster then before. In this seemingly spellbound moment, Kurt went for broke. There was, after all, nothing left to lose. He closed the small distance between them, covering her lips with his own. All other emotion he set aside as he kissed her tenderly, utterly surprised as she began to kiss him back.
Finding herself suddenly pressed up against the wall, Ororo sought the truth in his eyes. His hands sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine a moment before he leaned in, his mouth descending on hers. She tasted his lips delicately at first, finally understanding why so many women found him irresistible. He was a wonderful kisser.
Of all the years they’d been friends, why it took them so long to reach this place she would probably never know, but she didn’t regret this for an instant. Sliding her arms around his back and giving herself into the feel of his body against hers, she returned his kiss with growing passion. Light-headed and incredibly warm, she clung to him, her knees seemingly unable to bear her weight. She broke away just a second to catch her breath before seeking his lips again.
Kurt was stunned by her response. Ororo was kissing him back, in the hallway, where anyone could see, and not reluctantly either. He looked at her in wonder during the brief moment between kisses, and then she pulled him close and his world started spinning. Disregarding impropriety, they completely lost themselves in each other for a short time. A platoon of sentinels could have thundered through the mansion, and they would have barely noticed.
For this very reason, the remainder of the team was almost upon them before they pulled apart, but only just, their arms remaining about each other. It no longer mattered what their teammates thought, although Kurt feared that his relationship with Logan had been severely compromised by his behavior in the danger room, if not forever lost.
He couldn’t help noticing the pain in Rachel’s eyes. However, what had passed between them that day not long ago had been a moment’s fancy. Rachel was a young, beautiful woman; Kurt had no doubt she would find another soon enough.
Rubbing his head above his right ear, Logan stopped before them. The wry smile on his face allayed Kurt’s fears that he’d damaged their friendship beyond repair. “Geez Elf, remind me never ta get between you and a woman again.” Kurt opened his mouth in reply but Logan waved him off. “No need for apology, I probably got what was comin’ to me.”
Ororo didn’t know whether to be indignant or flattered over that exchange. She wasn’t a prize to be won. However, deep within she knew she’d made her choice the moment she chased after Kurt instead of tending to Logan.
* * * * * * *
“Of course, it took you a bit longer to say those three little words.” Kurt looked down with grin.
“Well, a girl has to be sure about those things. You know how highly I value honesty. In all fairness, you took me by surprise. I had to examine my motivations carefully. You wouldn’t have wanted me to parrot back the words if I didn’t really mean them in my heart, would you?” She reached up with one hand to caress his cheek, drawing him down for a lingering kiss.
Kurt eventually pulled away, his voice dropping half a register. So much for relaxation, Ororo never failed to light the fire within him. “N...No, no of course not. And frankly, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for choosing that particular moment to tell you. I had planned a much more romantic venue for that.” His lips curled in a wry smile as he hugged her tightly with one arm.
“No regrets, Kurt. I have none. There’s been plenty of romance since then, as I always knew there would be with you as my partner.” She snuggled deeper into his chest.
Kurt rested his chin on her hair, inhaling the exotic scent that was his Ororo. Still the same as that day in the sterile corridor when the warmth and fragrance of her had finally loosed his tongue. No need for regrets...
Moments of comfortable silence ensued as Kurt finished his now cold coffee and watched the snow continue to fall. He would have been content to leave the subject drop completely except that something still itched at his brain. “You know meine Liebe, I never did understand why Logan gave up so easily. It’s not in his nature to walk away from a fight, of any kind.” Did Logan value their friendship to a point that he would give up on a woman he desired? Of course he had backed down, but Kurt never learned the true reason.
Ororo pushed herself away from his chest slightly, turning so she could meet his eyes. “Goddess Kurt, you don’t know?”
His brows knit as he answered, “Don’t know what?”
Ororo raised one delicate eyebrow. “All these years and he never told you? He set us up Kurt. I confronted Logan a few weeks later and he admitted it. He told me he was well aware of how we felt for each other. That if our behavior didn’t confirm it, our scents when we were together screamed it, damn his feral nature. He got tired of seeing us dance around the issue.” She smiled at the irony of it all. “He just never figured that you would respond so violently.”
“I almost gave up, but he goaded me into it. I didn’t think you cared for me and it’s not my way to force myself on a woman who seemed to want someone else. Thank God we finally found each other. I never intend to let you go again. If you haven’t already noticed, among my many faults I am a very possessive man.” With that he wrapped both arms and his tail around her and squeezed tightly.”
Ororo laughed breathlessly. “Stop Kurt, you’re going to hug the stuffing right out of me. I get the point. And Amanda would have been the victim of a conveniently placed lightening bolt if she’d ever tried to reclaim you, I assure you of that.”
They both erupted into quiet laughter for a few moments until Kurt finally added, “I thought we were supposed to be relaxing. Enough reminiscing, I just want to hold my wife close.”
With a soft sigh Ororo settled back, her ear against his chest, the calming beat of his heart almost lulling her to sleep.
The only sound Kurt heard for several minutes was the patter of wet flakes against the windowpane and the gentle breaths of his spouse. He was beginning to wonder if she’d fallen asleep and contemplated carrying her up to their bed when she finally stirred.
“Kurt?” Her voice was weary, but not exactly sleep-laden.
“Yes, meine Liebe?” He shifted a little looking down at her head on his shoulder.
“Kurt, my love,” she paused, a soft smile crossing her face, “before we go up to bed, there is one more Christmas present I have to give you.” She craned her neck until she could look into his eyes, her demeanor as inscrutable as ever.
“Ach ja?” His lips curled in a teasing manner. “Another gift? You spoil me rotten Liebchen. Now what more could I want that I do not already have?” His eyebrows lifted with a hint of suggestion.
Incorrigible as always, Ororo thought, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She reached across and gathered his free hand in hers, gently drawing it in front of her body and placing it on her abdomen with a knowing look. “How about another son? “
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