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Breaking and Fixing
By Steph
Rating: PG-13 to R, for drug references and some light smuttiness.

Pairing: Toby/Kelly

Summary: She was lonely and he was broken, which was why they were playing Candy Land on a Friday night.

Timeline: Early season 4, pre-Kelly/Darryl

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

As always thanks to my beta Holly, for encouraging my love of this strange, strange pairing.

----


Friday afternoon, the conference room, in front of everyone:

“That’s a perfect example of why no one here likes you, Toby. This is why your life is so disappointing and you have no friends.”

Toby slunk back to the annex. Without missing a beat, Michael went back to speaking and everyone went back to listening.

--

Friday nights were the worst. Ever since Ryan had dumped her ass and moved to New York, she had dreaded Friday nights. She needed a new boyfriend, she needed equally hot-but-single friends to go out clubbing and dancing with, looking for eligible hotties.

She needed to go somewhere. Anywhere. Her apartment, which she usually found super-cute and perfect, now felt almost claustrophobic. She was not the type of girl who spent Friday nights alone in her apartment, bored and depressed. She had spent enough time crying over Ryan (that jackass!). Now she just needed to find something else to do, somewhere else to go.

Someone to hang out with.

Feeling desperate, she called Pam, who was neither hot nor single. She explained her situation and invited her out clubbing.

“Thank you,” Pam said. “But Jim and I already have plans.”

“Can’t you cancel them?” Kelly whined. But even as she asked, she knew Pam wouldn’t. When you have a date with a hot guy, you don’t break them to hang out with some girl you work with.

Lord knows if Kelly had a date with a hot guy, she wouldn’t break it to hang out with Pam.

“No,” Pam said. “Sorry. Maybe you can call someone else.”

She sounded like she wanted to get off the phone.

“Okay,” Kelly said. “I’ll call Angela. See if she wants to meet me at a bar so we can do body shots.”

Pam laughed. “Maybe Angela wouldn’t be the best choice for that activity. Actually I don’t know anyone from work who’d be into that.”

Meredith might, Kelly thought. But Meredith could out-drink her like crazy. It wouldn’t be much fun.

“I’ve just been kind of depressed and lonely lately,” Kelly said. “You know since Ryan dumped me.”

“I know,” Pam said. “And maybe another time we can---”

“It’s just I’m used to going out on weekends. And I don’t want to stay here in my depressing apartment all night feeling like a loser.”

“You’re not a loser,” Pam said. “But I really should get --”

“I am so a loser,” Kelly insisted. “My life is disappointing and I have no friends.”

Wait. That sounded very familiar. Where had she heard that?

Oh right. Michael had said that to Toby earlier today.

Of course he had. Just an average day at work.

“Hey Pam,” Kelly said. “That kind of sucked today when Michael told Toby that no one liked him and he had no friends.”

“It wasn’t very nice of him.”

“How come we never say anything?”

“About what?”

“When Michael says mean things to Toby. No one ever defends him. I mean I could have said to Michael that I liked Toby and he was my friend. Or you or Jim could have said something. But we never do.”

“I don’t know, Kelly,” Pam said. “Maybe it’s because we all hope that if we ignore Michael, he’ll move on.”

“But he doesn’t move on,” Kelly said, not sure why this was suddenly bothering her so much. “And when we don’t say anything it’s like we’re saying to Toby that we agree with Michael.”

“I don’t think Toby thinks that.”

“But how does he know?”

“Again, Kelly, I’m sure that --”

Kelly took a deep breath, realizing how emotional she was becoming. “I‘m sorry. I‘ve got like a major case of PMS right now.”

“Um…”

And then she had an idea. “Hey, do you have Toby’s number?”

She would call him, tell him that she was his friend. Then when she was finished, she could go back to being a loser.

“I don’t,” Pam said. “Jim probably does. Hold on.”

She waited until Jim came on the phone. Just the fact that Pam had a hot boyfriend over at her place while Kelly was all alone depressed her even further.

“Hey, Kelly,” Jim said. “I don’t have Toby’s phone number on me. He changed it recently because of all the crank calls.”

“Okay,” she said. Then she had another idea. “Do you know where he lives?”

A pause. “Do I know where Toby lives?”

“Yeah. I want to go talk to him.”

She wrote down what Jim told her. She would go visit him tonight, tell him in person that they were friends in case he was feeling down.

He’d probably be home.

Toby was a nice guy, her friend in the annex, but he didn’t seem to have a very active social life.

Maybe she could help with that.

Maybe there were some cool bars near his house.

Maybe he could be her wingman.

---

Before she knocked on Toby’s door she wondered if this was a stupid idea. Maybe he had a woman over; maybe he had his daughter over.

Maybe he wasn’t even home.

But still she knocked on the door and heard a faint, “Just a minute.”

She waited until he opened the door. He looked very surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugged, not offended. “I don’t know. I was bored and depressed at home and Pam had plans and I thought maybe we could hang out.”

He blinked at her. “You did?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Bad idea?”

“No,” he said. He still seemed confused. “But we’ve never hung out before.”

“I know,” she said. “Can I come in? Unless you already have some chick over. Cause that would be totally awkward.”

He finally smiled, just a little bit. “No. You can come in” He opened the door wider and she walked in.

“I was just thinking about what Michael said today about you not having any friends and how no one said anything and that was stupid…” She stopped and wrinkled her nose. “God, it smells like pot in here.”

“Neighbors,” Toby said quickly. “I had my windows open before and I think someone was having a party.”

“Neighbors can suck,” she agreed. “My one neighbor is a total crack whore. You can so tell these kinds of things.”

“Okay,” he said. He looked at her uncomfortably. “Why are you here again?”

She grinned, because she knew it was crazy. “I don’t know. Like I said I thought maybe we could hang out. I was bored and didn’t want to sit around missing Ryan. Who is an asshole by the way.” She looked around his place, which was kind of small, but nice, not counting the pot smell. “Your place is cool. You should have people from work over more.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Toby said. “In fact, why don’t I call Michael now and see if he wants to come over?”

She giggled. “Where’s your bathroom? I want to put on more eyeliner.”

He frowned, probably trying to figure that one out. Finally he just pointed.

She walked over and looked at the room facing the bathroom. It was obviously his daughter’s room, all done up in pink and white. Pink bed, pink curtains, pink stuffed animals.

She was a little in awe of that bedroom.

When he noticed her staring he said, “Sasha’s going through a phase where everything has to be pink.”

“Oh me too!” Kelly called and headed into the bathroom, eyeliner pencil in hand.

--

She hadn’t planned on telling Toby everything. But he was such a good listener (or maybe he was just silent because he was still trying to figure out what she was doing at his place on a Friday night) and she was half-sitting, half-lying on the couch across from where he was sitting like she was at a shrink’s office, and she couldn’t help herself from talking about Ryan and how much she missed him even though he was a total douche now. She finally took a deep breath and waited for the wise piece of advice Toby would surely have for her.

“Relationships can be difficult,” he finally said. “And when it’s someone from work…”

“Tell me something,” she interrupted, sitting up, eager for gossip. “Have you ever had a crush on someone in the office? And you can’t use someone who’s not here anymore. Total cop-out.”

He didn’t answer. Then he said, “No” in a way that didn’t convince her at all.

“Liar,” she said. “Who do you have a crush on? Oh! Is it me? I won‘t be weird about it if it‘s me.”

He shook his head and said in a quiet voice, “It’s not you, Kelly.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling a little stung. She liked to believe that every man she worked with had at least a little bit of a crush on her. Even the creepy ones. Sometimes it was how she got through the day. “Well, who is it?”

He frowned again. “It’s… kind of complicated.”

She clapped her hands together. “Is it a guy, Toby? Cause that‘s cool if it is. I need more gay friends. In fact, there‘s a really cool bar I know of where the bartenders are really sexy…”

Well that would explain why he didn’t have a crush on her.

Maybe they could go shopping together.

He’d be so much more fun than Oscar.

He laughed, sounding a little flustered. “Sorry. Not gay. But it‘s nice you‘re so open-minded.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointed. “And here I was hoping you’d tell me you had a huge crush on Jim or something.”

“Sorry,” he said again. “I don’t have a crush on Jim.”

And something about the way he said it caused her to gasp as she figured it out. “Toby! You have a crush on Pam!”

She shouldn’t have been too surprised.

But still it confused her.

Kelly was way prettier.

He shrugged and mumbled something or other, which confirmed her suspicions.

“But she’s with Jim! And Jim’s so hot.”

“Thank you.”

“No,” she said, embarrassed. “Wait. That came out wrong. You‘re not bad looking or anything. You’re like what? Forty-five or something? You look good for forty-five.”

He sighed. “I’m thirty-nine, Kelly.”

That didn‘t seem right. “Really?”

“Really.” At her disbelieving look, he said, “I can show you my driver’s license if you want.”

“No, no, I believe you,” she said.

Thirty-nine?

Poor, poor guy.

--

Kelly tried to convince him to go out with her. It didn’t have to be to a bar (although that’s how she was leaning) - maybe it could be a movie or bowling (although she wasn’t a big fan of bowling) or even going somewhere for dessert.

“We have to go somewhere,” she said. She crossed her arms to get her point across. “We can’t just stay here.”

She was getting bored. And even though he seemed to accept that she was here at his place and wasn‘t leaving, he was a terrible host.

Maybe it was good that he didn’t invite people over.

“I’m okay just staying here,” he said. “But if you want to go out, don’t worry about me. I‘ll see you on Monday.”

“Well, I don’t want to go out alone,” she said. “Do you do this every Friday night? Just sit on your couch and do nothing? Cause I would totally kill myself if that‘s all I did.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not all I do. Some weekends I have Sasha.”

She sighed, exasperated. “That doesn’t count.”

He frowned. When he spoke his voice was a little cooler. “It most certainly does.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “Don’t get all pissy. Of course it counts. I meant you need to go on more dates. Stop pining for Pam and get yourself some hot girl.”

He nodded, humoring her. “Okay Kelly. I‘ll get right on that.”

“You should be nicer to me, Toby. I’m trying to help you. You and I are both single and lonely and we need to stop being lonely. We‘re in the exact same boat right now.”

He stared at her for a second before saying in his usual gloomy way, “You’re a young and pretty girl, Kelly. You’ll have someone new in a few weeks. We’re nowhere near being in the same boat.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

Saying that she hoped he was right didn’t seem like the correct response.

--

“Do you want me to go home?”

It was half an hour later and they were playing cards, having run out of things to talk about. War - which was like the most boring game known to man. She was eating microwave popcorn straight from the bag.

It was the “light” kind and it was disgusting, but still she kept eating. To thank him for not throwing her out.

She wondered if he had made her popcorn so her mouth would be full and she wouldn’t talk as much.

If so then his plan wasn’t really working.

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know.”

Well it was honest. She ate another piece of popcorn and won the game.

--

“Are you mad at me? For saying that Jim was hot?”

“No,” he said. They were still sitting on the floor, playing a fast-paced game of spit. She had taken her shoes off, made herself at home.

He seemed more relaxed now. And he really seemed to get into playing spit. Which kind of made sense. Toby probably had a lot of pent up aggression to let out.

She stared at him, his familiar face with the odd creases and the nearly invisible eyebrows and the saddest, most hooded eyes she had ever seen. She studied his features as if he were a stranger and concluded that he was not unappealing looking at all. She should tell him.

“I‘m glad you‘re not mad. Because there’s something interesting about your looks. You’re like stealth handsome.”

He looked up from shuffling the cards, nearly invisible eyebrows slightly raised. “I don’t even know what that means. Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“It’s a total compliment.” At his suspicious look, she grinned at him. “You should take the compliment, Toby.”

“Alright then,” he finally said. “Appreciate it.”

He looked a little embarrassed and she realized he probably didn’t get too many compliments.

That was kind of sad.

Whatever game they played next, she would totally let him win.

--

If someone had told her that she would be spending her Friday night playing Candy Land with Toby Flenderson, she would have laughed. Like seriously laughed until she cried.

But this was what they were doing now. He had found it in the closet and asked her jokingly if she wanted to play.

From the look on his face, she assumed he hadn’t expected her to say yes.

It was weird and kind of lame, but sort of fun at the same time.

He was having fun too, more animated than she could ever remember seeing him. He was even laughing. Which was cool.

All in all, it wasn’t a horrible Friday night. She wasn’t spending it alone. She was hanging out with a friend.

And that reminded her of the main reason she had come over.

“Toby,” she said. “Does it ever upset you when Michael says something mean to you and no one at work defends you?”

He seemed surprised by her question. Which made sense because it was asked after he made an innocuous comment about how old the game was.

“I don’t know,” he said, picking up a card. “I understand that he’s your boss and you don’t want to go against him or anything.”

“I would totally feel betrayed though,” Kelly said. “If my boss always talked crap about me and no one ever said ‘Kelly’s a great person so shut up,’ it would really hurt.”

“Sometimes it hurts. But you just try to focus on other things. Or find something that will make you feel better.”

“Like drinking a lot? Or pot like your neighbors? Did you know Ryan used to smoke pot occasionally?” She wondered if saying that would get Ryan in trouble. She kind of hoped it would. “I could always get him to do things afterwards he wouldn‘t normally do. Don’t worry I’m not talking about anything dirty - I mean like he’d watch movies with me he wouldn‘t watch otherwise. I got him to watch really good movies that way. Classic ones like ‘She’s All That’ and ‘Never Been Kissed’ and he actually liked them so it worked out for me. I didn’t mind when he smoked.” She sighed, wistful. “I was such a good girlfriend.”

He stretched his legs out and read the card.

She laughed. “You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this. But Ryan smoked out with someone from work a couple of times. Isn‘t that crazy?”

He looked up from the game, a shocked expression on his face. He actually was a little pale. Weird.

“Did he ever tell you who?”

His voice sounded completely different. Slightly nervous almost, but that couldn’t be right. Maybe he was worried - what with him being HR and everything. That must be it.

“No,” she said, telling the truth. “I just assumed it was someone creepy like Creed or something.”

“Yeah,” he said after a few seconds. “I guess that’s a possibility.”

--

“Do you ever think about quitting your job?” she asked.

Candy Land had been put away and they were once again at a loss for things to do.

“Every single day.”

She tried to imagine him leaving. Would Michael send someone else to the annex or would she be sitting in the back all alone with no one to talk to? That would be horrible.

“I’d miss you,” she said. She realized she meant it. She wouldn’t just miss having someone back there with her; she’d actually miss him. She waited a beat or two and said, smiling, trying to shake off the sudden sadness she felt, “Now here’s where you’d say you’d miss me too.”

“I’d miss you too,” he said. He gave her another small smile and she sort of believed him.

“Maybe you should quit though. It might fix you.”

“Fix me?” he asked, sounding puzzled. “Am I broken?”

“Yeah,” she said. “No offense, but you kind of are.”

--

After several minutes of pleading and well…whining, Kelly finally was able to convince Toby that they should go out for pie.

“I’ve had such a pie craving lately,” she told him. “Right now I’m debating between apple or chocolate. Oooh… maybe cherry! Or you can get one kind and I can get another and we can split both of them.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Ready?”

She stared at him. “What did you just put on?”

“A jacket.”

“Okay that jacket is totally why I thought you were forty-five.”

He took off the offending brown jacket to look at it. “It’s just a jacket.”

She shook her head. What would people do if she weren’t around? “If you let me take you shopping, I‘ll treat you to pie. You so need new clothes.”

“I like my clothes,” he said slightly defensively.

She shook her head again. “You let me know when you have your next date or if you decide to go on job interviews and I’ll help you out wardrobe-wise.”

“Okay Kelly. I‘ll do that.”

He was humoring her again.

“I’m serious,” she said. “You let me know the second you have a hot date and I’ll make you look so awesome.” She grinned watching him, already imaging what she’d do. Making him over in her mind. Brighter colors definitely. Nicer shoes. “And it’ll happen, because there’s someone for everyone.”

“Everyone?” He didn’t sound too convinced.

“Everyone,” she said. “I mean look at Michael and Jan.”

He made a face. “I’d rather not.”

She laughed. “Me neither. Complete train wreck. Sort of like Heidi and Spencer.” She grabbed her own pink jacket from the couch and asked, “You‘re totally having fun tonight, right?”

He didn’t answer right away. But when he did, he was smiling. “It’s been a very strange night, Kelly. But it has been fun.”

“Good,” she said. “I never can tell with you, because you always look sad and miserable. Like all the time.”

“Believe me I know,” he said. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she said. But first she had to ask one last question. “Are you glad I came over?”

He nodded. “Yes. Who ever would have thought we would have fun hanging out together?”

But he said it in a way that wasn’t mean, a way that sounded pleasantly surprised and she was touched and it only seemed natural to lean over and plant one on him.

As a way of telling him that she had had fun too. As a way of thanking him for letting her hang out, for not telling her to leave.

“Kelly,” he said, his face red. “I don’t think--”

He didn’t finish his thought. He wasn’t looking at her either.

Pie. They were going to go out for pie. And she wanted pie. But she sort of wanted to kiss him again. She didn’t quite get why, but she figured she’d go with it.

“Toby,” she said and when he finally looked at her, she kissed him again. Waited for him to push her away. He didn’t, but he didn’t exactly respond either. But still she let that kiss linger a little longer than the first one.

She watched him after she pulled away. Couldn’t read his expression.

She’d either get pie or she’d get him to kiss her again. A win-win situation.

“It’s not--” He paused, frowned, tried again. “It’s just… if this is your way of--”

Third time’s the charm, she thought to herself. Because now she wanted to kiss him even more than she wanted pie. But if he didn’t respond to her (or for that matter, if he pushed her away) this time, she’d forget it. She would settle for the pie.

She tried one last time. Kissed him again because she wanted to and she felt victorious as she finally (finally!) felt him relax against her and kiss her back.

And it was kind of weird at first - not in a bad way, just a weird way, because she was kissing Toby, but then it started feeling less weird and just like she was kissing a nice guy who was stealth handsome in his own sad way. And he was kissing her back and he was actually a good kisser and all thoughts of pie and shopping and even Ryan completely disappeared.

And then it didn’t seem weird at all really. She felt pretty and warm and happy and not lonely or a like a loser and she was racking her brain trying to remember what she had read in Cosmo yesterday about tips to drive a man wild. And all she could remember was something involving her tongue and his neck and she tried it out and judging from the tightening of his arms around her and a small noise that seemed to come from somewhere in the back of his throat, she guessed that she had done it correctly.

Excellent. Cosmo had just earned another year’s subscription for that move.

And then he was kissing her again and his hands were in her hair and he was saying her name in that quiet, gentle voice of his and everything felt so right and she was beginning to think that she should bring Pam something on Monday to thank her because if she hadn’t been busy with Jim, Kelly would have been hanging out with her.

Instead of here, kissing the area between his ear and his jaw, untucking his shirt, undoing a button or two, finally coming in contact with bare skin. Surprisingly nice bare skin.

And it was just about then when she must have really done something right and he sighed softly and it was kind of hot, but kind of comforting too in a weird way, because it was the exact same sigh she heard several times a day in the annex.

Well, not exactly the same sigh. This one was amplified somehow - sexier. But still familiar enough to make her open her eyes and find his.

Even doing this, and she could definitely tell he was enjoying this, his eyes still had that sad look to them.

He still looked sort of broken.

I could be the one that fixes him, she thought to herself. And it made her feel light, happy, like doing a good deed.

And she had finally finished unbuttoning his shirt and he was staring at her and her sweater was now halfway up and he was kissing, touching her exposed skin which caused her to gasp his name - in a way that was neither quiet nor gentle - and she knew she was more than ready for them to get completely naked - and in the midst of all this unexpected wonderfulness - a thought - a horrible thought - came to her.

I could be the one that breaks him.

It was an uncharacteristically self-aware thought for her to have.

And even though his hands felt so good and his skin was warm and his eyes were hot and there was part of her that wanted nothing more than for him to just take her right then and there, she didn’t think she could do it.

Because it was true. If she were just using him now, she could really break him.

And she opened her mouth and she wanted to tell him her fear so he could tell her not to worry and they‘d be able to continue, but what she had wanted to say came out completely wrong and she flinched as soon as she heard it.

“I don’t…want to have sex with you.”

Which wasn’t right at all. Because he was nice and her friend and a good kisser and had said her name in such a sweet way and had crazy enormous hands and she really wanted to find out if that saying was true about guys with big hands.

“Wait,” she said, but he had already nodded and stepped away from her. He began wordlessly buttoning up his shirt. “That wasn’t what I meant at all. What I meant was--”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Forget it. And it’s getting kind of late. Maybe you should get going.”

Her eyes immediately filled with tears at the wounded tone in his voice. She pulled her sweater down, smoothed her hair. Her face felt warm and her throat felt dry. “Can I get something to drink first?” she asked weakly.

He nodded again without looking at her. She walked into his tiny kitchen and turned the light on.

On the refrigerator was a class picture of Sasha. Blonde, freckle faced, a wide smile.

And even though she knew she was being silly, Kelly thought that Sasha was smiling at her a little too knowingly, as if she were accusing Kelly of something.

Kelly stared at the picture. I’m sorry, she said to herself, to Sasha. I’m sorry for being such a tease around your dad.

Sasha continued to smile in that way, obviously not forgiving her.

Kelly frowned and opened the fridge. The beer was tempting, but she thought better of it and grabbed the pint of milk and some chocolate syrup instead. She got a glass from the cupboard, then a second one. She poured an almost disgusting amount of syrup into the glasses before topping them off with a little bit of milk. Once stirred, the drinks were almost black.

He was sitting on the couch and she sat down next to him and handed him a drink, which he took without arguing.

She needed to say something. She couldn’t leave like this.

“Sorry for being such a slut,” she told him.

Maybe Angela had been right about her.

He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Sorry for taking advantage of --”

“Me being a slut?”

“Don’t say that,” he said. “No. Sorry for taking advantage of you being lonely.”

She didn’t have an answer to that, but she felt her eyes tearing up again, because he sounded truly regretful, so she said in a too cheerful voice, “Drink your chocolate milk.”

He stared at the glass, then finally met her eyes. He looked exhausted. “There’s milk in this?”

“Yes,” she said. “Milk. It does a body good.”

And then she felt stupid. Because of course she had to subtly ogle him, his body, which she now knew firsthand was not bad at all for forty-fi-. No… wait. Thirty-nine. Was not bad at all for thirty-nine.

She was already regretting her decision.

She knew she should leave, but the idea of going back home now was too much, so instead she grabbed the remote. She turned the TV on and flipped channels until she came to an America’s Next Top Model marathon on VH1.

“Oh!” she said excitedly after watching a few minutes. “This is such a good episode. This is the one where Tyra flips out at Tiffany. It’s fantastic. This is so your lucky day.”

When he glanced at her sadly, she realized that she needed to really stop talking. Like now.

Why wasn’t she going home with the little dignity she had left? Why did she insist on sitting here on his couch with him, drinking chocolate milk that had the consistency of sludge?

“Can we still go shopping?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.”

Well that was something. She settled back into the couch and knew that the sooner that things got back to normal between them, the better.

And things would get back to normal she told herself.

She didn’t know that in a week or so Toby’s prediction would come true and she’d be dating Darryl who was fun and charming and so unbreakable that she knew she would never have to worry.

She didn’t know that there would be times in the annex when Toby would be dealing with Michael or Dwight and she’d hear him sigh and she would find it so oddly hot that for a few seconds she wouldn’t be able to breathe.

She didn’t know that the next time Michael made some cruel comment to Toby in front of everyone, Pam would stay silent and Jim would stay silent, and most horribly, she would stay silent, and afterwards when she saw Pam in the women’s restroom she’d tell Pam she was suffering from allergies and that’s why she was sniffling and her eyes were so red.

She didn’t know that for the most part things would in fact get back to normal and they would never mention anything about this strange night - the talking, the games, the hard core making out - ever again.

As if it had never happened.

All she knew now was that the two of them were sitting silently on opposite ends of his faded couch, in his small apartment that still smelled faintly of pot, drinking their chocolate milk and watching Tyra Banks so intently, as if she alone had the answers to all their problems.

The end


Steph is the author of 37 other stories.
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