It Takes Two to Tango

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For the love of tango;

Viva forever!

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“El tango no está en los pies. Está en el corazón.”

[Tango is not in the feet. It is in the heart.]

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Without warning, the studio door slammed loudly. The overhead bell rattled violently with the resultant force. Loud, angry footsteps stomped on the hardwood floor. In stormed the alleged person in question. A lady of average stature and fair looks appeared looking very, very angry at something – someone, to be specific. Her sling bag bounced angrily against her left hip. It was hard to ignore the subtle sway of her hips despite her current temperamental state. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned indeed.

She fished her shoes out her bag and halted abruptly. Tossing her bag on the couch by the wall, she sat with a huff and removed her walking shoes. She strapped on her dancing heels with short, irritated movements. Waiting patiently and expectantly, stood her partner in the middle of the dance floor. He wore his easy smile on his face and rested his weight on one leg while his arms crossed over one another. Their amiable dance instructor stood slightly off to a side, leaning against the mirror while twirling the stereo’s remote idly – seemingly unaware or blissfully ignorant of the tension in the room. His thinning grey hair seemed at odds with his lean physique.

“Ready?” he broke the tensed silence with a cheerful smile. She glanced at her partner with narrowed eyes. He shrugged and held up his hands in mock surrender. He then offered his hand, beckoning her to him.

“Okay…” – a click of a button – “… begin.”

The music filled the air. The shrill note of violin vibrated mournfully. She stalked towards him and reluctantly stepped into the circle of his arms. She placed her right hand in his and settled her left hand on his biceps. He flexed his muscles and she narrowed her eyes in response. Show off.

“Narrow them any more and I won’t be able to see your pretty eyes, love,” he chuckled.

“All right, now take it from the walks. Slow, slow…”

They swung into the dance routine, strutting on the polished floor with slow intensity. She lifted her chin haughtily. His cool eyes studied hers, silently willing her anger to subside. The unfathomable depths which were her eyes simmered with repressed anger. At the moment, it was pretty clouded with the said emotion. He couldn’t help wondering why. She hissed at him when he stared too long.

“Now, now… this is not the time to throw a hissing fit. Save the hissing for the actual dance floor, mi querida!”

That was what she expected their instructor to gently chide from the edge of the floor. At least that was the usual chastisement. However what he said was totally off track – he smiled with approval as his Spanish-accented voice said, “Ah, that’s the spirit. Now, more fire from you, mi chico.”

She stumbled in surprise, missed a step and nearly skinned her toes with her heels. He smoothly maneuvered her misstep with practiced ease so it looked like she skipped instead of stumbling. Another inaudible hiss escaped her lips.

“My, aren’t you feisty today, querida,” he murmured with a hint of a smile on his lips, “Pray tell me the reason why?”

“You’re a jerk,” she retorted. He chuckled. A corner of his lips threatened to turn up in a smile. “Tell me something new, love. I’ve heard of that before.”

“Shut up. I don’t want to talk to you,” she shot back.

“… into a planeo.”

He sharply whipped her around as he executed the step. The sudden motion left her breathless and a little dazed. She glared, annoyed that he meddled with her concentration and caught her off guard. He slowly pulled her up with agonizing slowness. They met each other’s gaze head on. Green clashed with teal. She deliberately aimed a kick at his nether regions but flexed her knee at the last minute.

“A boleo not a gancho, querida…!” their instructor chastised.

“But you talked to me, my fair lady.” He now smiled widely. Color flooded her cheeks and she turned her face away. He led her around the room with a slow cat-like gait.

“You suck.”

“Gee, thanks. Where would you like me to perform that deed, hmm?”

She stopped abruptly and gasped indignantly. At the same time, their instructor’s chiding voice carried from across the room.

“Alex!”

“Sorry, Mr. D,” he grinned unrepentantly and swept her into his arms again, effortlessly resuming the routine as if nothing happened. “I know; ‘save it for the actual dance floor’.”

“Yes and that is tomorrow by the way..!” Mr. Diego nearly cried in hysteria.

“Relax, Mr. Diego,” she soothed, “I’m sure Alex is pretty confident that he can pull it off without a hitch in his sterling performance tomorrow.”

She threw a sardonic glance at him for effect.

“We can pull off our sterling performance,” he amended, arching an eyebrow. “It’s called a partner dance for a reason.”

“No no no no no. Both of you; stop it…!” Mr. Diego sighed tiredly. He stopped the music with a click of a button. “You’re not concentrating! That’s it, no more dancing for today.”

Two indignant voices protested unanimously.

“But the competition’s tomorrow!”

“We haven’t started anything yet!”

“Until you sort out your differences; Alex, Destiny – you’re dismissed.”

“Thank you, Mr. Diego,” she said curtly. With a swift curtsy, she turned on her 3-inch heels and stalked off. She paused for a brief moment to pull her shoes off her dainty feet. Once the shoes were stuffed into her bag, she barely spared Alex a glance before exiting the studio.

Mr. Diego stared pointedly at Alex as if to say ‘It’s your fault too’. Alex grinned guiltily and held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Sort it out real soon,” he suggested quietly. Or it won’t bode well for tomorrow.

“Roger that, Mr. D,” Alex muttered.

Alex shucked his shoes and grabbed them off the floor. Shoes in a hand, he grabbed his bag with his free hand by the chair, hurriedly exiting the studio. Mr. Diego sighed wearily and peered at the faux French street below the window. His gray eyes picked out his two pupils easily. As he leaned on the windowsill, he watched them with a faint smile.

“Two headstrong tango dancers. What a find, what a find....”

He could hear her clad feet descending the steps a little way down. Skipping a few steps, he reached the bottommost step just as she stepped onto the pavement. Quiet fury rolled off her being in waves. He called her name. She whipped around with regarded him with narrowed eyes.

“Yes?” she managed to say with considerable patience.

“What made you so angry?” he asked. Her expressive eyes glared daggers at him. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and sighed as he jammed his hat on his dark hair. Her angry silence spoke louder than words.

“Love, if you’re gonna be that way, I’d say – ‘save your fury for the dance floor tomorrow’.” He tipped his hat and walked away.

“Whose fault do you think all of this is?” she shouted at his retreating back. He waved lazily in farewell.

The nerve of him! She fumed, gritting her teeth. Turning on her heel, she in walked down the opposite direction. She couldn’t help but noticed that this was the third time that day she either stormed or stalked off from a place. The smile on her face dripped with sarcasm.

Oh, I’ll show you tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow. Bah!

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Tomorrow came all too soon. Evening came even sooner. Feeling jittery, Destiny climbed out of the cab after paying the fare. The cab driver bid her good evening before speeding down the street. Turning to face the building before her, she took a deep breath and started forward. Tonight will be the night that she’ll give the boor named Alex a piece of her mind.

She noticed him waiting for her at the entrance. He was already dressed and held a fedora against his chest. With a rakish grin, he offered her his free hand. She just stared. Seeing the defiance in her eyes, Alex pulled her bag out of her grasp and draped her arm around his. He silenced her protests with a touch of his finger to her lips. He spotted Mr. Diego and a small framed man around his late twenties by the refreshment tables. He steered them towards the two men. Destiny stiffened beside him.

“You audacious boor,” she muttered so that only he could hear. He merely chuckled.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he bowed in greeting. “I trust you’ll be watching us later?”

“Won’t miss a thing,” Mr. Diego smiled. He introduced the small man. “Ah, and this is my dear friend, Mr. Blythe. He’s a rather avid dance enthusiast.”

“Mr. Blythe, pleased to make your acquaintance,” Alex smiled, shaking his hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” Mr. Blythe said, shaking their hands in turn. “I have heard much of you–”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Blythe,” Destiny cut in. She smiled sweetly. “I’m really sorry to cut the acquaintance short but I really have to get dressed.”

“Why, of course, of course!” Mr. Blythe exclaimed and gestured for her to go.

“If you’ll excuse me…” she smiled sweetly and removed her arm from Alex’s. His eyebrow quirked while she glared, taking her bag from him. As she exited, he dipped his head in goodbye to the men and trailed after her.

Mr. Blythe didn’t miss the wordless exchange between the two. He bounced nervously on his feet watching the departing couple. His mop of hair was in disarray. He turned to the impeccably dressed man standing beside him. Mr. Diego shook his head and chuckled muttering, ‘Ah, I should’ve known’ under his breath. Mr. Blythe blinked rapidly in confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just mumbling,” Mr. Diego waved his hand in dismissal.

“You sure about letting those two on the dance floor in that condition?” he asked timidly.

“Ah, of course! I’m not interfering,” Mr. Diego replied. “Come let us watch from the sidelines. I believe the heats are about to start.”

They both made their way towards the ballroom. It was crowded with people dressed in evening finery though there were a few in smart casual clothes. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a faint orange glow on the glossy floor. Round tables draped with white linen surrounded the space in the middle of the ballroom. They sat at a table nearest to the dance floor.

“I’m a bit apprehensive–” Mr. Blythe began. Diego waved off his friend’s sentiments with a knowing smile. The crowd broke into a loud applause as the master of ceremony opened the events of that evening.

“Just watch and see, my friend.”

As the first few couples took to the dance floor, a hush fell on the crowd – anticipating the magic the event promised. The men were dashing in their tailored pants and shirts. The ladies were a sight to behold in their sparkling costumes. On cue, the music started. Thus, the magic of the evening unfolded.

Anticipation. Restlessness. Anger. These emotions blend together till she couldn’t tell where it began or ended. Her heeled feet tapped the floor softly awaiting their turn. Alex was a strong presence next to her. She hadn’t said a word to him at all. Silently, he took her hand in his and led them inside. As soon as they were in place, she relinquished his grip on her arm and stalked off, twirling as she went. She curtsied daintily; he bowed with a stiff back. His lips were set into a grim line – a sign he was suppressing his anger. Her answering smug smile had a mulish slant to it. It was right there and then he realized that he had to make her see the truth in his own way.

She knew the moment he hardened his resolve. She could tell from the predatory gleam in his dark, dark eyes beneath that fedora. She cringed inwardly. Wait, why should she fear this man? So she steeled herself. Slowly, he advanced towards her – stalking, almost. She stood waiting with an arrogant tilt of her chin. He grabbed her hand and yanked her close. She placed her hands on his chest to offer a little distance.

“Smile, querida. You look like you want to kill someone,” he favored her with a grin.

“You have no idea,” she replied sweetly.

“Geez, Des. What are you so mad about?”

“You.”

“Me? What wrong did I do?”

“Don’t lie to me, you imbecile–”

“Hey, no name calling ‘kay?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

He turned her so that her back was against his chest. They continued to walk in that manner around the floor – similar to that of a prowl. Her mouth parted, her eyes closed as she relished the heat of the moment. He grasped her fingers tighter than dictated. She opened her eyes languidly.

“It does,” he whispered against the nape of her neck. She shuddered and she turned around so that they were face to face – or rather, chest to chest. They traveled backwards in a wide arc around the floor.

“It’s pretty childish, Des,” his green eyes were earnest. Her teal gaze flashed in response.

“And you’re not?” she retorted.

He swept her foot with his and displaced it along the floor. Righting herself, she seductively walked in a circle with him as the centre. Green clashed with teal as their gazes locked. He led her backwards towards the centre of the floor; she followed by tracing a figure-8 with her feet. Every sway of her hips screamed silent fury and seduction.

“Ahh… I see what you mean now, Diego. They’re fiery on the floor!” he was beside himself with excitement.

“My joy and pride. By God, they’re perfect.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

He yanked her closer and met her glare head on. She hooked her leg around his waist and drew him closer. He felt the raw emotion called irritation gnawing inside him grew in intensity by the minute. He noted she was never this… fiery during practices. Inwardly, he was roused. She halted to execute a golpe - toe taps which rebounded high behind her. He kicked a foot across in front of his other and artistically lifted her into the air. She straightened a leg and bent a knee. They spun once before she landed gracefully. He moves further to the left so that both his feet were outside hers as they walked again. Then, he halted her with her legs apart, weight on both feet. She did little toe taps in between the steps - her long legs moving agilely. It was fascinating to watch.

“Do tell me why, querida.”

“You were with that woman, weren’t you?”

If her question shocked him, she could not tell. She drew up her right leg to caress his thigh, rubbing it up and down once. He ran a warm hand from her thigh down to her knee, stopping there as he dragged her leg higher. He wore a lazy smile though his eyes remained wary with a hint of interest. Apparently, he harbored no intention of replying her. Instead, he leaned in closer and whispered, “Be mesmerized, querida.”

He swung them into a planeo; torsos molded together, knees touching as they extended their leg parallel to the floor into the famous pose. Her head dipped back a little, arching her supple back.

“No, I will not get lost in you.”

Even as she said that, his magnetic green eyes beckoned her. Unwilling to succumb under his emerald gaze, she stared at his fedora when he slowly pulled her up. He was deliberate in his actions, she knew. Her body brushed against the length of his as she ascended. Despite her misgivings, she liked the sturdy feel of it.

“You’re not a man. You’re a boor,” she muttered.

Suddenly, Destiny felt that she pushed him too far. She could feel his grip tightened and his leads became demanding. Frustrated, he practically pulled her back and sent them spinning in a flurry of legs and kicks. She had to catch up with him. Their legs dueled ceaselessly as they entwined and escaped in a thrilling manner – like they had a life of their own. Whirling as one at dazzling speed, she belatedly felt overpowered by his mere strength. He stopped abruptly and dipped her low; his head laid on her stomach just as the music ended with a flourish. Their breathing was labored with the exertion. In fact, – he noticed when he looked at her – her parted lips and breathless state did not calm him one bit. It made him breathless too. He struggled to regain his cool composure.

“I am a man,” Alex breathed, righting her again.

A voice boomed in the auditorium, “Another big round of applause for the Argentine Tango finalists!”

The crowd went up on their feet, bursting into a loud applause. She blinked. He smiled charismatically and bowed. He gently tugged on her hand. Belatedly, she twirled and curtsied. Hand in hand, they exited the floor with another round of applause from the crowd along with other dancers.

“My, the Argentine tango tonight sure has snagged my interest. It’s a rather unique dance, no?” Mr. Blythe exclaimed once the roar of the applause died down. Mr. Diego chuckled in response.

“Yes, tango is rather unique. Rather than a set step, it’s actually a combination of various steps determined in a spontaneous manner. The dance depends mostly on the direction of the lead – or the man as you say – to create a routine. Though personally I wouldn’t call it a routine – the tango is much too creative for that term. Improvisation is more fitting. Tango requires both skill and technique to master the feel of it. But most importantly, it has to come from within, the joy of dancing and of course connecting with your partner.”

“Am I safe to surmise that the tango is not in the feet but in the heart?”

“Well, what do you know?” Mr. Diego laughed. “That’s quite aptly said. Come let us go see them.”

The two men rose and exited the ballroom in the direction of the wings. Mr. Diego walked gracefully whilst clapping his hands as he approached their side with Mr. Blythe, the dance enthusiast friend in tow.

“My children, that was brilliant! Weren’t they, Mr. Blythe?”

“Oh yes, your raw passion on the dance floor was so believable I thought I was caught up in it as well!”

“R-really?” Destiny said faintly.

“Thank you for your praises. If you would excuse us, I think Des is still reeling from it,” he winked at the elder men. They grunted with understanding and headed back to their seats at the edge of the dance floor talking animatedly.

“The professional division is up next…”

“Oh, it’s a must watch. I heard–”

Alex tipped his fedora in goodbye as he watched them leave and walked in the other direction – the changing rooms. Dragging her inside, he closed the door with a kick. The sounds of the hallways became muted. She was abruptly aware that the two of them were alone in the changing room. The results would be announced much later due to the other dances going on. Her stomach tightened and suddenly she felt very conscious. She glanced at Alex as he gently led her to a seat near the wall.

Though she’ll never admit it aloud, Alex looked dazzling in his impeccable grey suit and pants. It fit his figure to perfection. He had opted for a cravat instead of the more popular necktie and the fedora atop his dark head was simply charming. He may be charming but he’s a boor, she mentally reminded herself.

“Now let us sort out our differences,” he murmured. He loosened her bun and the tropical flower which adorned it. Her honey-colored hair coiled slightly as a result of being tied too tightly. He tucked the flower right behind her ear. She felt slightly breathless with him so close.

“Have I told you that you look stunning in that classic asymmetrical dress?”

“No.”

“Well you do look stunning. I’m speechless.”

“Save your charm for someone else.” For that woman she wanted to say. She turned her head away to put a little distance between them. Alex bit down the nasty retort on the tip of his tongue at her show of indifference. Instead, he took off his fedora and queried mildly.

“Why are you mad, querida?”

“Stop calling me that,” she said. Her voice faltered at the end of her sentence. “Not when you already belong to another.”

Alex stopped short and retracted his fingers. “Des…”

“I hate it when you call me that. It sounds so… destitute.”

“That is not the point.”

She started towards the door, apparently angry. Before she could reach for the door handle, he was in front of her. “No, I’m not letting you walk away this time,” he said with finality in his voice. “Why are you so afraid?”

“Afraid of what?” she shot back.

“Afraid of looking at me in the eye. Afraid of telling me right in the face. Afraid of me,” he spat out the last word bitterly. She flinched.

“I wasn’t with her. She came up to me,” he stated quietly.

“I-I don’t care.”

“You do. Or you won’t be so worked up over this. So tell me, why–”

“Boor! You kissed that woman…!”

Now it was his turn to be indignant.

“Is that why you were so mad? I told you, she was the one who came up to me and kissed me right there and then…! I didn’t even seduce her!”

“You could’ve pushed her away.”
”You’re jealous aren’t you?”

Her face turned scarlet. She felt her cheeks warmed. “N-no, I wasn’t… that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a flirt and a major jerk.”

“That does it,” he growled. He pinned her to the wall and imprisoned her wrists with his hands. “I know I have acted like a jerk in my past but that doesn’t mean you have the right to stick that label on the current me.”

“I don’t like you,” she mumbled halfheartedly.

“But I do and I know that you do, too. You’re just too stubborn to admit it and it’s driving me up the wall with insanity.” For the first time, he was pleased to note that she had no comeback. He went on.

“With all that passion displayed on the dance floor just now, one has to be blind to not know the way you danced was more than just the steps. It’s from the heart – your heart, querida. I’ll be damned if that was for some dandy off the dance floor when you were only looking at me like I’m the only man in the room. Me. As Mr. D says, tango is in the heart – not the feet.”

“You were… fiery. And that’s something, since you’re like some frozen ice queen most of the time. I’ve always wondered; why can’t you just trust me like you do with other guys? I’ve been completely honest with you all this time and I believe I deserve some credit for that. I’m not the jerk I used to be. If you think that’s not good enough for you… well, will I be damned. Who offered to partner you knowing fully well his peers would potentially view him as a sissy? Who did you go running to when that poor excuse of a boyfriend left you that day? Who was there to comfort you the nights you cried? And it’s not like I haven’t been nice to you. I have and you know it. Your stubborn self just refuse to accept that small measly fact; the fact that–”

“S-stop it…” she choked. A tear rolled down her cheek. He softened his gaze and continued in a calmer voice, “Now tell me why you’re really mad, ‘cause I believe I have the right to know.”

Destiny felt the last of her defenses crumbled away at his words. It hit right at the spot. The spot she always avoided in fear of falling into the bottomless hole called love again. She heaved a sigh and launched into her own monologue.

“I was mad because another woman kissed you. I was mad because you get under my skin and irked me like no other. I was mad because you can stay so cool and collected when I’m inwardly freaking out. I was mad to see you so amused at my show of temper in the studio yesterday. I was mad because you affect me so. I was mad at the fact you tease me endlessly and I just can’t stand it any more. I didn’t want to like you. You’re a boor and a jerk but I still fell for you. I was mad because you keep plaguing my thoughts regardless of the hour. I am mad because I like you. I–”

“Shush, querida,” he murmured, releasing his hold on her wrists and pressed a finger to her lips to stop her. “I think that’s enough.”

“I don’t like you,” she finished lamely.

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he grinned at the sight of the hesitant smile on her lips. “You don’t have to, as long as I’m your partner. Unless, of course, you want to take things further…”

“Alex!” She hit him square on the shoulder and managed to elicit a satisfying “Ouch!” from him. Then she had to grace him with one of her dazzling smiles. She nearly undid him.

“It takes two to tango, love,” she replied saucily. “And I simply don’t wish to tango in that direction.” Yet, she mentally added.

“The same way two heads are better than one to work things out, eh?” he quipped. “Now let’s get outta here.” Before I relinquish my self-control and kiss you senseless, he mentally added. “It’s almost time for the results anyway.”

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“Where are those two?” Mr. Blythe wondered. “It’s already time for the results.”

“Oh, it’s only the junior division. Results for the youth division will come later,” Mr. Diego answered with a smile. “I wager they’ve sorted their differences.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, scratching his head. The other man just gave the younger man a pat on the back. “It’s nothing of importance, lad.”

Alex and Destiny emerged in the hall teeming with all sorts of dancers awaiting their division to be called to the floor. They joined the rest of their fellow division and fellowshipped amiably. All too soon, their division was up next. Alex held his fedora in his hand and had his other arm around her waist as they walked towards the wings which opened to the ballroom. Destiny unconsciously leaned towards his quiet strength. Alex smiled at her subtle movement, feeling extremely pleased. They twirled in greeting to the applauding crowd along with the rest. They spotted Mr. Diego’s graying head and Mr. Blythe’s messy one among the fancy crowd and waved.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are nearing to the conclusion of the evening. It is my great honor and pleasure to present you the finalists of the youth division for the Argentine Tango!” boomed the jovial faced master of ceremony. The crowd broke into an enthusiastic applause. “Let us have the results, if you please.”

A petite woman in a tasteful lavender dress handed him the results enclosed in a white envelope. The emcee opened the letter eagerly and looked over the list of names. Smiling, he addressed the crowd once more. “And now, the moment you all have been waiting for…”

Her hopes dwindled with each couple name being mentioned. Three consolation prizes, third place, second place… they couldn’t be the top right? She held her breath and squeezed the masculine hand in hers. The emcee bellowed the last couple’s name. She exhaled in disappointment. They didn’t win after all. She glanced at the last remaining couple standing next to her and Alex. They didn’t seem to be upset. In fact, they still looked hopeful. She wondered why. She looked at Alex. His countenance was impassive, disguising any emotions that he might felt. The emcee’s booming voice inviting the rest of the competitors onto the dance floor scattered her thoughts again. As the other dancers trailed in, the dance floor suddenly felt overcrowded.

“And the lastly, the rather coveted award – and title – of the evening; the best showmanship award! Which couple do you think it is?”

The few brave ones in the crowd roared out numbers of the couples. Destiny was too delirious to hear their number among the ones called. But Alex did and he smiled a little. The emcee managed to calm the crowd by waving another white envelope around. He waited till the crowd quieted down before tearing the envelope. As he read the names, his eyebrows were comically raised in mock disbelief before he broke into a wide smile.

“The award goes to… Alex Cuello and Destiny Lovejoy of the Argentine tango division!”

“Oh. My. Gosh,” Destiny blurted, stunned. When the weight of the words sunk in, she jumped and hugged Alex; Alex lifted her and spun them around with a musical laugh. Delirious with joy, she kissed him impulsively. They broke apart and walked hand in hand onto the makeshift stage. Alex jammed his fedora on his head again and smiled with a charisma that was exclusive his.

“A splendid interpretation of the Argentine Tango, my dears,” the emcee grinned as he shook their hands, congratulating the pair. He clapped Alex’s back fondly.

“Thank you so much,” were all they could say. Words could scarcely describe the happiness they felt. The organizer also said the same thing as he handed them a bouquet each, a medal and a trophy. They raised their prize and the crowd cheered and applauded deafeningly. Alex glanced in Mr. Diego’s direction. From a distance, he could see the old man raised his hand and winked. Feeling wicked; Alex lovingly kissed Destiny’s smiling mouth right there, in the middle of the crowded ballroom overflowing with people. Cheers following the kiss were accentuated with whoops and catcalls.

“Now don’t you wish to tango with me in that direction?” he murmured against her lips. She stared back at him in disbelief. The smile that lit up her face a second later was simply delightful to the eyes.

“Oh shut up,” she laughed and kissed him again.

– The End –

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Author's note: Okaay! This story is actually long overdue and I was working my muse/frustration out in another outlet. I've always been fascinated by the Argentine Tango. It's truly an art to behold. To end this; A Merry Christmas to everyone! :)