Work Text:
“M here for some paperwork.” A gravelly voice prompted you to look up from your screen. A man wearing a gas mask stared back down at you. Noting your attention, he raised a thin stack of papers towards you.
“Ah, certainly Mr Porter,” you replied affirmatively, taking the documents from him. You thought you heard the British man mutter “Mr Porter’s my da” but pretended he didn’t say a thing. As you flipped through the documents determining what needed to be done, you felt a slight sense of alarm as you saw the operator rest his arm on the counter before you. You may not be able to see his eyes, but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you.
“Haven’t seen yer here before. How long have yer been here?”
“About five months or so,” your eyes flickered upwards and instantly regretted as you came to realise how much closer the man was than you initially thought. Add that to the fact that you couldn’t see his expression through that damn mask. You forced your eyes back down on the documents, moving your mouse to click open the appropriate windows and files.
“Yer ever played hostage before?” Where the heck was this line of questioning going?
“A handful of times, Mr Porter.” You replied steadily, firmly keeping your eyes on the paperwork.
“Huh, must not have been my trainin’ sessions then.” It wasn’t a question so you kept your mouth shut and focused on processing the documents. The thing about the operator “Smoke” was while the man was devastatingly handsome and charming, shy and quiet individuals like yourself shouldn’t get too close. He might have the passion with the intensity of a raging fire but you might get asphyxiated by the feelings you would develop, ones he couldn’t return. With a final tap on the keyboard and a stamp on the physical documents, you handed back the papers to the man.
“Thanks, I’ll see yer around sugar.” Smoke took the documents and walked off, shooting off a quick salute without looking back. See? You shivered to yourself. Exactly like that.
-S-
The next time you saw him, you were most unfortunately, playing the hostage. Mira had just finished taping your mouth and sat you down on your designated position when Smoke walked in.
“Oh what’s this? We caught a little mouse for our hostage today.” Mira merely rolled her eyes, gave you a light pat on the shoulder and went to get set up. You on the other hand resisted the urge to glare at him in the name of professionalism. Besides, it was probably safer not to encourage a man such as James Porter. Or at least that’s what you thought you weren’t doing. Undeterred by your lack of reaction, he strode right up to you and started patting your head, his fingers at times sliding slightly through your hair.
“Don’t worry little mouse, we’ll take good care of yer.” He teased, and though you couldn’t see his face through his mask, he was without doubt smirking. This time you couldn’t help but glare up at him, attempting to convey strongly through your narrowed eyes the messages of I am not a pet stop that and Is this how you’re supposed to treat hostages???
“Ohhh this little mouse does have some bite after all.” The man raised his hands in mock deference.
“Oi James, stop mucking about with the hostage and get ready!” Another British-accented voice yelled from the other side of the room. Thatcher, you think.
“Yeah yeah don’t get yer ‘nickers in a bunch old man, I’m goin’!” A final pat on your head which you returned with another glare. “I’ll be goin’ now little mouse, try not to miss me.” Your good riddance came out muffled but he understood it anyway from the way he laughed as he left. This was becoming a clear pattern. If that wasn’t a warning sign, what else would it be?
Minutes later, the training session started. You had wiggled into the position that you’ve learnt to be the most comfortable for the longest period of time. Though from the feeling in your limbs it might be time to shift again soon. The defenders had all taken up their positions, and you were only too aware that Smoke had moved behind a cover within your line of sight. His head seemed to turn towards you at certain intervals. Was he making sure you were okay? You mentally shook yourself at that thought. Probably just checking that you were still there.
Something whizzed through the air and embedded on the ceiling directly above your head. Zero’s Argus camera. You fought not to flinch as Smoke immediately pulled out a pistol and shot it. Biting your lip slightly, you steeled yourself for what was to come. A minute later, the sounds of fighting was all around you - bullets flying throughout the air around you, gadgets being activated and plenty of shouting. You kept yourself as still and quiet as possible throughout the chaos, flinching at some of the projectiles that came too close for comfort. Some of the operators had commented that you were one of their most calm hostages they had worked with. Frankly, you were panicking internally, but screaming or struggling helped nobody. And realistically? This fortunately was just a stimulated exercise, you might not be so “calm” if the situation was real.
Suddenly someone grabbed you and dragged you away from your position. You looked up to see a gas mask that was quickly becoming familiar. He shoved both of you behind cover before yelling “SETTING OFF A CHARGE!” A plume of yellow-coloured smoke exploded into the air, covering a large area, including where you were positioned just moments before. Some sounds of choking ensued but you couldn’t really see or tell what was going on anymore, not with the body of a certain British man in front of you.
“Yer alright?” He asked lowly, glancing briefly back at you. You found yourself shivering at the sound of his voice. That should be illegal. You nodded back quickly in affirmation. A moment later, he was moving out of the cover, shotgun blasting.
Attacker Team eliminated. Point to Defender Team. Prepare for Round Reset.
-S-
“Got more paperwork.” You looked up from your screen to see a ruggedly handsome man looking back at you. As before, he waited till he got your attention before raising the stack of documents to you.
"Certainly, Mr. Porter." You replied affirmatively, taking the papers from him and trying your very best not to stare. You had once seen a photograph of the man unmasked, but it did not do full justice to the man living and breathing in front of you right now.
"James." He stated, resting his arm on the counter as he did before.
"I beg your pardon?" You asked, confused. Do not drown in his blue eyes. Do not drown in his blue eyes.
"Call me James. Mr. Porter makes me feel old and like my Da. I ain't nowhere near being either."
"I..." At loss at what to reply to the British man's insistence on familiarity, you glanced down at the documents in your hands. "Wait... these are Mr. Baker's documents."
"Mike's busy." Smoke replied, giving a lazy shrug. "So I offered to help." You wanted to ask why, but that would potentially be opening a can of worms that you didn't want to deal with. It was not that relationships between operators and non-combatant staff (or just among operators or staff themselves) were forbidden. Just that if it wasn't serious or is foreseen to end in flames that could harm the organisation and its work, it was highly discouraged. Thankfully, the latter never happened as everyone who worked here understood the purpose of Rainbow Six, and thus could behave as proper adults should. You were NOT going to be the first person to go down in history being the case study of "What went wrong here."
"I see. No issues, this can be processed without his presence." You replied, shuffling through the documents.
“Alright, then its sorted.” He replied almost lazily. As before, you tried your best to ignore the man before you and focused on your work.
“Yer really are one of the quietest hostages we ever had. Very like a little mouse.” The British man remarked casually, fiddling with the calendar on the counter. You had placed it there, each month featuring a different cute animal in a cheery setting. This month, ironically and in the greatest of coincidence, featured a white mouse standing next to a miniature cake wearing a party hat.
“Mhm.” You replied noncommittally as you began to type on your keyboard.
“When are yer next scheduled?” He was flipping through the calendar now, examining each featured animal.
“Next Wednesday.”
“Huh, pity. The one after?”
“The fifth of next month.” He flipped to the correct month, this time a photograph of a floppy-eared puppy surrounded by flowers.
“I should be in then.” You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at this. While you’ve not been here for that long of a duration, you were pretty sure nobody checked which hostage lined up with their training sessions.
“What? Having a quiet hostage helps and bonus if they’re cute.” He smirked at your expression. You deigned not to reply to that statement and instead informed him that Thatcher’s paperwork was done and no further action was required on his part.
“Good.” He produced another sheaf of papers. “Here’s mine.” You didn’t even bother to hide your incredulous expression, causing the British man to give a rich laugh which unfortunately sent pleasant shivers down your body.
“Had to be smart about it. Yer only seem to give me the time of the day while you’re handlin’ paperwork.” That was… not untrue. You quite figuratively and literally scurried away whenever that man was near, sensing that things could go down a very slippery slope if you got too close to him. Not knowing what to even appropriately reply, you silently reached out to take the papers from him. Only that he didn’t release his grip. Frowning, you gave a little tug that said let go. He merely smirked and held on.
“Do you want your paperwork done or not?” You snapped after futilely tugging a few more times.
“I’ll let go if yer stop runnin’ from me.” He proposed, unfazed. “Or tell me why yer keep doin’ that.”
“Why?” You asked, puzzled.
“Because…”He drawled slowly. “Much as I like the sight of your cute lil butt hightailin’ away from me, I want to talk to yer more.”
“And why is that?“ You asked, still puzzled. You refused to let your brain come to a certain conclusion.
“I don’t know, cuz I find yer cute? Interestin’? Strangely shy like a mouse in a base filled with hardened grizzled people? Take yer pick.”
“There are other young, more beautiful and not grizzled people on the base here, Mr Porter.” You countered, but the blush in your cheeks gave you away.
“Easy, then pick the first two reasons.” He shrugged then leaned in close. “Tell yer what, yer call me James for now on, I’lll give these to yer.” You sighed.
“Fine… James.” You said resignedly reaching once more to take the papers. But he still didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in even closer till his face was inches from yours. You felt your breath hitch.
“Lovely. Though little mouse? If yer run again, yer can bet I’ll be chasing yer.” He whispered lowly, his voice sinful as hell. Then he let go and left, a hand raised in a lazy parting greeting without looking back. You stared after him, too stunned to even check if the paperwork needed him to be here. When you recovered, you found that it didn’t, but a small sticky note was attached to the last page. See you around little mouse.
-S-
You made a disgusted face as you drank the liquid. You were tired from working overtime the day before and at the rate the current day was going, it seemed that the overtime fate was going to repeat itself. You had searched high and low for your go-to drink of choice, only to find out that you had run out of stock. This drink was the only choice you had left. You took another sip and scrunched your face in disgust again.
“Someone spit in yer drink or somethin’?” You turned your head to see James walking into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a chilled bottle of water. Uncapping it with a flick of the wrist, he drank from it, eyes watching you as his throat bobbed with every swallow.
“Just not a fan of it.” You replied, averting your gaze from him. You grimaced at the amount of liquid left in your mug.
“Let’s see here.” You hadn’t noticed that he had come up to you. Easily, he took the mug from you and drank from where you had just placed your lips. Your brain apparently became a teenager once more as it began screaming Indirect kiss! It’s an indirect kiss!
“It ain’t so bad little mouse.” He pronounced, seemingly unaffected by what he had just done. Oh, he knew alright.
“G-get your own mug.” You stammered as you blushed, practically snatching your mug back from him.
“Just helping yer finish.” He smirked unrepentantly, patting your head and making you blush harder. “So why are yer drinking somethin' yer hate so much.”
“Needed caffeine,” you managed to get out, staring at the remaining liquid in your mug to avoid looking at the British man.
“Long day?” He casually leaned against the counter next you. Also indirectly blocking any chance of escape, you can’t help but slightly nervously note.
“Days.” You sighed, placing your mug on the counter and tracing the design, a happy corgi with a flower crown on its head. His blue eyes followed your gaze and he let out a laugh.
“Cute mug. But I know how that feels. I’m just glad I’m not stuck at a desk. Yer the bookish smart kind?”
“Yes…I guess…?” You answered hesitatingly, unsure on where this was going.
“Hmm nothin' against the sort, though they can be a little stiff.” He mused, taking another sip of water.
“Are you… calling me stiff?” You shot him a look.
“Contrary to that darling,” James drawled and you could feel the goosebumps rise on your arms at that subtle should-be-illegal purr in his voice, “from what I have been told yer have been nothin’ but lovely and soft. Seem like yer only stiff with me.” He chuckled at the wide-eyed look you gave him and continued. “I do wonder what I have to do to make you melt.”Oh you were melting alright. The wicked, wicked man knew exactly what he was doing.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m always as I am.” You stuttered slightly, your hands wrapping around your mug almost defensively.
“Do yer now?” His eyes slid towards you lazily. “Could have had me fooled.” A soft unintentional whimper escaped you and you turned away from him, mug clutched like a lifeline in your hands.
“That’s a beautiful sound.” He remarked in a soft, dangerous voice. Your cheeks absolutely flaming, you didn’t know what to do so you took a sip of your drink, forgetting that it had a flavour you intensely disliked. You could hear his rich laugh behind you as you winced at the taste. A sudden beeping from your phone reminded you that your short break was over. Timidly, you turned around to see him still there, and yes, still watching you with that smirk of his.
“Need help finishing that?” James gestured to your mug. You grimaced, looking down at the still half full mug.
“Please.” You sighed, handing him the mug. Taking it from you in a surprisingly gentle manner, he placed his lips over where yours had last been and gulped it down in a matter of seconds. Smirk intact, he handed the mug back to you. Muttering your thanks, you made to move past him when he stopped you. Puzzled, you looked up in time to see and feel him brush a calloused thumb over your lips and bringing it back to his own, his tongue flicking out to lick it.
“Missed a drop.” He grinned roguishly. You stared at him, lips slightly parted as your cheeks blushed heavily once more. A squeak escaped you as you turned and fled, feeling his intense gaze on you as you left.
-S-
It’s been another really long day, but at least this one is coming to an end. Or so you thought. As you were moving down the hallways, thick stack of documents in your arms and mind buzzing with what else you needed to follow up on after this, your clumsy tired feet tripped on itself. On moment you were upright, the next you found yourself on the floor with papers fluttering and scattered around you in an explosion. You didn’t want to, you didn’t mean to. But the accumulation of the stress of work, the throbbing pain in your right ankle, your lingering headache, and the fact that you had took a painstakingly long time to organise those documents in the correct order, all came to a head. You burst into tears right there and then. In the vaguest and furthest part of your mind, you were grateful this hallway saw very, very low traffic. But mostly, you didn’t care. Your body trembled and shook as you wept, face buried in your hands with tears running down your face. You don’t know how long you’ve been crying when you heard a very familiar nickname, followed by your own name. You didn’t react, thinking it was your imagination given that your mind was already in such a mess.
“Little mouse? Sweetheart?” A large gentle hand touched your shoulder, prompting you to look up to see James hovering over you. His blue eyes usually so infuriatingly calm and confident was now filled with concern and worry. “What’s wrong?” The gentleness of his voice ironically made you want to cry harder. His face softened upon seeing yours crumple once more.
“Oh darling, c’mere.” His strong arms pulled you to his warm solid chest, careful not to jostle your injured ankle which swelling he had noted earlier when he first found you. You cried freely into his chest, hands clutching his shirt for dear life. Through it all, his gravelly voice murmured comforting words, his large hand soothing your hair and back softly. When you had finally calmed, you croaked an apology. His shirt was absolutely drenched from your sobbing.
“That’s not important.” He dismissed your apology. “Yer feel better darling?” You gave a shy nod. “Feel a little less that the world is ending?” Another nod which was met with an approving grunt. “Good. Now don’t yer have somewhere yer have to be?” Again, you nodded, this time trying to move. A soft sound of pain escaped you as your ankle reminded you that not all systems were a-go before James could stop you.
“Ah ah ah.” His hands grasped your arms. “What do yer think yer doin’? Yer should be off that ankle. Wait just a moment, little mouse.” Swiftly, he got up and started gathering the papers that had scattered further away. Still sniffling, you began to pick up those that were within your reach as well. You had picked up the last document when James returned to your side, handing you the rest of the pile. He crouched down next to you, large hands reaching for your ankle, examining it gently. “Looks to be just a sprain. Still better to let the docs check it out.” Before you could get a word in, he had swept you up in his strong arms. You found yourself looking up at his handsome face, a blush gracing your own as you clutched your papers to your chest.
“Alright there, darling?” His blue eyes flitted down to meet yours. You didn’t trust your shyness to not make you stutter, so you simply nodded your head again. “Stunned by my handsome mug huh?” You gaped at him which only served to make him laugh as he began moving in the direction of the medical wing. On the way there, he told you little stories of his adopted daughter when she was growing up. James really didn’t seem like the parenting type, let alone someone who might adopt a child. But the fondness in his voice and expressions when he spoke of her proved your preconceived notions wrong, and made it completely unmistakable that he was a loving father. Which, you noted with a mental frown, made sense how experienced he seemed when comforting you. Somehow the notion that he treated you possibly like a child didn’t quite sit well with you. No, wait. Why do you even care? He was just being nice…and its not like you have feelings for him… right?
Your thoughts were set aside for another time (maybe never if you had good sense) since you’ve arrived at the medical wing. The attending medical staff was quick to examine you, agreeing with James’ assessment that it was just a sprain, thankfully a relatively minor one. He stayed with you the entire time, even offering to escort you where you needed to go. By escorting, he of course meant carrying you like a precious treasure to your office, to your intense mortification.
“Can’t have yer ankle gettin' worse.” He stated simply with a lazy shrug. You were so grateful that it was past work hours when you arrived to find the office was empty. Wait… what about his work?
“I am at yer Majesty’s service.” The British man joked, receiving a flat look from you. Shaking his head in amusement, he informed you it was his downtime which made you widen your eyes in guilt. As before, he waved off your apologies. ‘What kind of man would I be if I just left you there little mouse?”
“But still…” You began to protest but he cut you off with a roughish look in his eyes.
“Do I need to kiss yer to shut you up darling?” That silenced you real quick, your only response to that was to blush heavily, which you seem to do way too often in his presence. When you got to your papers, you found that he had reorganised it to almost the same order you originally had it in. The small act of thoughtfulness nearly had your eyes welling up with tears again. You finished up your final task while he fiddled with the bits and bobs on your desk, asking you random questions about yourself which you ended up answering absently before pausing and blinking up at him in realisation. He would stare back expectantly at you and you would give in and finish your answer before turning the question back at him, to which he easily replied. After you were done, James picked you up once again, ignoring your protesting. He set you down gently in front of your room. You thanked him softly and he grunted in response, turning to leave when you stopped him. Slowly, he turned around and eyed you curiously.
You were equally surprised at your hand on his arm, you had reacted without thinking. He had been really sweet today and… Before you could lose your courage (or reckless impulse), you reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Friendship thank you kiss.” You squeaked, quickly turning away, opening your door and escaping into your room. Your cheeks burning, you closed your door gently behind you, but not before catching sight of James smiling as his fingers touched the spot where you’ve kissed.
-S-
After that day, your relationship with James inevitably changed. He still flirted shamelessly with you, but you could confidently say that you’ve both became good friends. Your conversations ranged from light-hearted to deep, and it never failed to surprise you just how much knowledge he had about seemingly everything.
“You’ve must have had all the answers to your daughter’s questions when she was growing up.” You had commented with a smile.
“Not remotely.” James snorted. “She wanted to know everythin’. Do I look like an encyclopaedia? Hell I bought her the thickest one I can find and she still had questions.” You had giggled then, not noticing the soft look in his eyes as he looked at you.
“She’s gonna go far.” You smiled, “You must be proud of her.”
“Yeah.” The pride and fondness in that single word could not be mistaken.
There were times that you wonder what you were doing. You’ve become great friends, yes, and there were times when you seem to… forget yourself. Like that time when you had reached up to touch the scarring on his right temple. He had caught your wrist firmly but gently before your fingers could make contact.
“What are yer doin?” James asked, not a trace of anger in sight, only curiousity.
“I-um.” What were you doing? “Sorry… I - does it ever hurt?”
“No. Here, feel for yerself.” He guided your hand to his temple, your fingers finally making contact with the damaged skin. Softly, you felt it, your fingers lightly stroking the scarred area. A few moments later, you pulled back and he released you wrist.
‘Satisfied?” The British man asked, quirking a smirk at you.
“Y-yeah.” You replied, cheeks blushing and eyes averted away from him. Moments like this reminded you of your odd relationship. No, you were not merely just friends. The feelings in your heart got more confused each day, fighting with your common sense that had you avoiding the man in the first place.
-S-
You were walking somewhat aimlessly around town when the sound of pounding footsteps reached your ears. You realised they were gradually getting closer to you and turned to look, only to gasp in surprise as a strong arm hooked around your waist and dragged you into a nearby alleyway. You were pushed up against a wall and a large calloused hand covered your mouth before you could even utter a sound. Your captor’s face was turned away from you, preventing you from recognising him in the poor lighting of the alley. Your heart pounding fast, you felt panic rising inside of you until a very familiar gravelly voice spoke.
“Relax, little mouse. It’s just me.”
“James?” You asked tentatively, your voice muffled under his hand.
“Yeah. Now shhh little mouse, she’s coming.”
“Sir! Sir! This is too much! Sir!” A young woman wearing an apron dashed past your alleyway, yelling at the top of her lungs. “Oh where did he go?!” The woman tried calling out a few moments longer before giving up, walking slowly back in the direction where she came from. As she neared the alleyway, James turned and buried his face in your neck, eliciting a muffled squeak from you. Your heart was racing in your ears as you watched the woman pass the alleyway, not even sparing a glance in your direction.
“I can pay off the rest of the semester and my rent.” You heard her speak to herself in awe. Even after she was gone, James stayed where he was. A few more moments passed like this until you tentatively reached up to tap him on the shoulder. His hand slid away from your mouth and he moved, but not before pressing a kiss to your neck. Your breath hitched as he drew back, his blue eyes locked onto yours. This was approaching dangerous territory real fast. Your mind scrambled for something, anything to break the spell that you knew was coming over you. It latched on to the most obvious topic.
“So uh, friend or love interest of yours?” You blurted out totally not causally at all. His eyebrows furrowed at this.
“She’s almost the same age as my daughter, little mouse. Just thought its a real pity someone as bright is held back just by a lack of money. Can’t ever eat there again though.” The British man cocked his head to the side, a glint in his eyes. “Why? Yer jealous?”
“N-no.” You stuttered, looking away. “Anyway I think the coast is clear -“ A muscled arm blocked your way.
“Now hold on a minute, darling. I know what yer tryin’ to do.” His other arm came down on the other side of you, trapping you between the hard wall and him. “And I’ll be damned if I let yer run after I finally got yer right where I want yer.” Alarm bells were ringing in full force in your head now and you could only watch wide-eyed as he leaned in closer to you. His lips hovered beside your ear. “Don’t deny it little mouse. I know you want this as much as me.” You shivered at the sound of his gravelly voice dropping to pure sinful levels. If you were honest, you would admit that there was much heat gathering in your nether regions too.
“J-James, wait please.” You stammered shakily, your hands coming up to press against his solid chest in a useless attempt to budge him.
“Give me a reason why not.” He drew back to look you in the eyes, his voice now soft and dangerous.
“If…if this is a fling to you I rather you just stop right now. If you’re serious about -” With a growl he lunged at you, silencing you with a rough passionate kiss that immediately had your knees go weak. He pulled you closer flushed against him, all the while claiming you with his lips, swallowing all the little sounds you were making at the wildly pleasurable sensations of the hungry kiss. He broke away for moment, taking in your wide dazed eyes.
“Yeah, I’m serious. I just got tired of waitin’ for my little mouse to make up their mind.” You didn’t get a chance to reply before he was kissing you again, wasting no time on biting your lips to get further access to your mouth. His tongue tangled with yours, and you felt him smile against your lips as you shyly responded. Eventually you both parted, breathless and panting. He pressed a soft kiss against your nose before leaning his forehead against yours, locking gazes with you. At some point, your hands had began fisting the material of his shirt. Relaxing them, you looked away, blushing bashfully as you soothed out his shirt.
“Still shy?” James chuckled as you blushed harder. “But that’s what I like about yer. Yer gonna run away darling?”
“No,” you whispered your eyes shyly meeting his. The British man’s calloused hand came up to caress your rosy cheeks.
“Good. What say I take yer to dinner hmm?”
“I’ll like that.” You smiled.
-S-
“More paperwork for yer, darling.” Your lover rested his arm on the counter above you, in a now very routine pose. “And a new calendar.” He plopped a calendar next to yours. This one was next year’s series of cute baby animals in cheery settings.
“You actually went and found that?” You couldn’t help but giggle, taking the paperwork from James.
“Wasn’t hard.” The British man shrugged, flipping the new calendar open to January. Ah, a cute little fox kit playing with colourful fabrics. “I do expect a reward later though.” You blushed at the suggestive look he shot you. Clearing your throat, you changed the subject.
“So your colleagues were wondering why you were so eager to help them with their paperwork now. They showed up earlier.”
“Those muppets.” James rolled his blue eyes. “They give yer a hard time?”
“Nope, only said that you’re my problem now and gave me a laundry list of things I should try to ‘fix’.” You laughed, shaking your head as you thought about the strange meeting with the rest of the S.A.S. unit.
“And yer agree?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Nope.” You said happily, shuffling through the paperwork. “I love you as you are.” You froze as the words slipped out of your mouth. Suddenly, James was no longer at the counter and was standing right beside you. You turned and looked up, seeing him look at you with those intense blue eyes.
“Do yer now?” He said softly, before pulling you up and capturing your lips in a surprisingly tender but passionate kiss. He broke away for a moment. “As it turns out, I can’t help but love you too.” You smiled, your eyes fluttering close as he moved in and kissed you again, the paperwork forgotten.