2019-11-29 - Ugly Sweaters and Unsolved Mysteries

(TXT to Esme) Yule : So. How many times have you asked yourself what the hell you got yourself into?

(TXT to Yule) Esme : Everyday.

(TXT to Yule) Esme : Oh you mean with this thing we're doing. At least a few. 😉

(TXT to Esme) Yule : Less than I'd anticipated. You working today?

(TXT to Yule) Esme : Are you disappointed? I'm off the clock for now. I figure I just remain on call with the way this town is.

(TXT to Esme) Yule : Nope. Going to assume the other times I've crossed your mind have been all 'good' thoughts. Yeah? You should come by. It's after Thanksgiving, which means it's time to decorate the tree.

(TXT to Yule) Esme : Decorating can be fun. Is it too early to exchange ugly sweaters? I totally found yours

(TXT to Esme) Yule : I have yours already as well. Bring it with. Never did figure out exactly where we are wearing these things at. Is there even an ugly christmas sweater day at the precinct?

(TXT to Esme) Yule : Regardless, you can find me out at Huckleberry. Trailer 20.

(TXT to Yule) Esme : Who knows. Maybe we'll just have to walk around town with them one day hm? Alright, let me make myself some kind of presentable and I'll be over

Given a lot of what can be found in the trailer park, and the sort of people who inhabit it? Yule's stands out as a bit of an exception. First, there is the car that's outside. A classic DB5. And then, there is the ever so nice, if quaint and cozy, airstream trailer that's been converted for his living situation. When Esme arrives, out comes Yule, sporting a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up midway over his forearms, and a pair of light gray slacks.

"Probably should ask if you have a warrant to come in, but I'll let it slide this time." That gentle quip is offered up with a faint smile, motioning for Esme to head on in. "Make yourself comfortable." Inside? The only lights at the moment are christmas lights that have been strung up along the ceiling. And on the side table next to the couch? Is the words tiniest live Christmas tree. He may well have topped the top off of a very full tree, or just gotten extremely lucky, but it is so horribly, comically small given the little bit of space he has.

Esme had been lounging in her PJs in a rare fit of actually not having anything pressing to attend to. She was half tempted to stay in said PJs but figured she and Yule weren't quite there yet. With whatever they were doing. So she'd swapped the PJs for a pair of nice, dark blue jeans and a thin, red, long-sleeved shirt. When she got out of her car she also had a shopping bag with her that likely contained the sweater. "I'll make sure to get one next time. Really give the place a good search." She mused, giving a cursory glance around the trailer as they stepped in. "Awww." When her gaze landed on the tree.

She moved closer to it. "It's so cute!" And pitifully tiny, yes, but Esme kind of liked that. "I'll be the decorations are equally adorable and tiny."

"Yeah? Might come across a few things that'll make you blush." A small snort of laughter comes for him for the adoration the tree. "Yeah. Living in NYC? Never got a large place. Just didn't stay in it long enough to bother. So small trees, with small lights, and tiny ornaments." That door is closed behind him as he comes in, but rather than step around the detective? Out his arm comes, drawing her around to face and lean into him. Yule's head dips in, all to claim a soft, simmering kiss as his true means of introduction, his other hand lifting to cup against her cheek to tip that head up, one finger hooking down beneath her jaw to feel her pulse.

With a soft little noise that kiss is broken, the hold loosened, and the examiner's head tips to the side to study her for a few moments before asking. "What would you like first. Sweaters, decorating, or a drink?"

"Pretty sure those will come out eventually, whether I go looking or not." Esme teased back with a chuckle, looking over her shoulder at him. "Yeah I know how that is. I had a small place in Spokane. Never really decorated though." She lets him turn her around, settling a hand on his waist as their lips meld together for those few moments. Her head tilted to lean into that hand. He can fell her pulse increase a tick even as she lets out a contented sigh when their lips are parting. "I've definitely been thinking good things about you. By the way." She flashed a smile before her eyes wandered again to take in the trailer once more. "Drink, sweaters, decorating. I think that sounds like a good order to do things."

"Yeah? You'll have to tell me about a few of those things over drinks. Before sweaters. Think you might change your mind then," Yule promises with a faint smile of mischief. That hand falls away from her cheek as he steps off to the side and further into the kitchen, opening up a top cabinet to pull out two whiskey glasses and a bottle of scotch. "Have a seat wherever you'd like. And you sound rather confident about those things coming out," It's a brief, sidelong glance her way for the playfulness back, his fingers working to undo the cork of that bottle. "So. I know why you moved back here. But why go to Spokane in the first place?"

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. I might enjoy just teasing you with the mystery of what those good things are." Esme gave him another smile as he withdrew, a little spark of mischief in her eyes to match his smile. She decided finally to just settle on the couch, the sweater bag next to her feet as she watches him move about the kitchen. "Nothing wrong with a bit of confidence." Esme winked when Yule looked back to her. "I was in Seattle originally for their police academy. Then I did beat cop thing for a bit but Seattle is just...too much hoop jumping to get anywhere" Esme shrugged.

"Spokane is big too but the vibe is a bit better? I'd done a few training days up there. They had an opening and so I put in for a transfer. And fast tracked to Detective. I enjoyed it."

"That so? I don't play fair, Wilkinsen. Not even with beautiful detectives. Probably /especially/ with them." It's a Highland 18 year old scotch, the glasses given a generous but not alcoholic pour as he listens. "Career minded, then. Had your heart set on detective. So, Detective Casual, when is the last time you did something like this, then?" Those words are all warm and a playful tease for their exchange at the Thai place, and once she is settled and he has the glasses, he comes to sit next to her, holding one out for Esme to take.

"And was it homicide you always wanted to be in? Know you said you worked a few different divisions." Comes the followup question, unabashedly picking up where they'd left off in their last meeting. It's his closest hand that extends out, draping across the back of the sofa, his body turning just a touch to make that conversing easier.

"Playing fair is overrated anyway." Esme countered lightly, eyeing the pour with a satisfied nod. "Yeah, definitely always wanted to be a detective." She agreed as he comes over to her. "Last time like this with another person? At least a year or so." She adjusts herself slightly to face him and accepting the glass of scotch. She breathes in the scent of the alcohol and then takes a careful sip. "Mm, you do have good taste Duchannes." There's a soft chuckle that comes with it, relaxing into the seat.

"Not originally. I didn't even know what I wanted. I started out on white collar crimes, blue collar stuff. Things that would eventually get passed to the FBI. Even the first time I was on homicide I didn't really click with it Jumped around. Finally came back to homicide from the SVU. And I just stayed. I finally felt that sort of...click. Felt right." She shrugged. "Why Medical Examiner?"

"I have excellent taste," He corrects with a faint smile, and as if to prevent a note of protest or counter point, his chin tucks down, a single eyebrow arching upwards in a note of challenge. "Just look at my present company." It's those words that led her down the path to where she is now that has him listening intently, "Ever get the itch to go to the FBI? And anything you miss about those other assignments?" It's a beat of a pause, all so he can then slip in the more pointed, personal questions, watching her features for any signs she lets slip. "Was a year ago casual? Or casual since then. And how much have you thought about that kiss against the wall?"

But he doesn't deflect her own question, stepping righ into it. "Knew I wanted to practice medicine. Got my scholarship to go to NYC, went into med school. It was about halfway through that something happened. Opened my eyes. All about saving lives, yeah? M.E.'s do that too, in the hardest of ways. Bringing closure to not just the lives that have passed, but to their loved ones. Family. Friends. Give them answers so they can go on. I also like the challenge, yeah? Was going to do surgery. Same surgery, every time. Here? It's always something different that is tossed at you with each body."

Esme gives his foot a little nudge with her own at his 'present company' comment. "Smooth talker." She teased and then shrugged. "Nah I never really wanted to go Federal. As for other assignments. Well, there's nothing quite like busting a drug ring or a prostitution ring, or an arms dealer. Busting killers has it's own satisfactions but it hardly ever involves busting down doors with SWAT by your side." She grinned. The grin faded just a touch. "Casual. My last serious thing was....well, it was a casual thing a few years ago that seemed like it could turn serious." She pushed a hand through her hair. "But, uh, he transferred out of state. So, we ended things." Then she leaned in a little more. "Probably as often as you have." Then she leaned back, taking another sip of the scotch.

She listens to his own tale with interest. "Never thought about it like that. But, you're right. You get to give closure on both ends. And yeah, I like that part too. It's always something different. Some new kind of crazy." Like their Zoo Killer.

"Yeah? You like the adrenaline rush of it all, or just the sorts of criminals you are able to take down in vice?" His own glass is lifted, a small sip taken from it as he watches her work through that far more difficult question. That lean in is observed, but when she goes to lean back out? His hand drops from the back of the sofa, touching against that far shoulder to encourage that drift towards him, instead. "That's not an answer." Up one brow lifts to bait more out from the detective about that kiss, even as his brown eyes drift down, ever so briefly, but with a purpose meant to be observed to her lips, and then back up.

"It is. NYC? They sure knew how to do crazy. Here though... it's just plain weird." Yeah, like the Zoo Killer. "And your unsolved crimes? Where does that fit into the puzzle that is the detective before me. I've seen cops hang on to ones that escaped them. But cases from when we were practically teenagers? More to it then that for you, isn't there."

"Can't it be both? I'm something of an adrenaline junkie, definitely. The thrill of the chase, the hunt. I love it." For half a second it seemed like Esme might resist the encouragement from his hand on her shoulder, but then she does lean back in some. Dark eyes intent upon his own, leaning in further, back to where she had been when she answered it the first time. "I couldn't give you an exact number, but suffice it to say, I've thought about it plenty. And what may have transpired afterward." A teasing little lit in her tone, free hand falling to rest lightly on his thigh.

"The puzzle factor mostly. Also the not knowing. When it comes to cases I just...need to know. I want to know 'who dun it'. And in this line of work...well it's just icing on the cake that it never hurts to be in the know on past stuff. Stuff people have filed away on a dusty evidence shelf, you know?"

"Sure. But usually, adrenaline junkies? Their hobbies are sky diving. Downhill mountain biking. Not knitting ugly sweaters... unless you are holding back on me about your hobbies, detective." It's a playful creases to his features, a bit of a broader smile at that before it fades it somethingg far more intrigued, focusing in on her gaze as she settles closer. "Not me," He says, firm in this conviction, "Not about the what if's of after that kiss. It? Was just perfect."

A beat of a pause follows, "But I sure thought about what would happen the next time I'd see you. And the time after that. What can I say, I'm confident and an optimist. Always looking ahead, not behind." A deep breath is drawn in, and the fingers upon her shoulder give a gentle squeeze. Her own hand draws his leg to draw closer to her, nestling against hers as those fingers rest to his thigh. "So you go around trying to solve the impossible. That? I admire. You have any unsolved ones in particular that are nagging at your attention?"

"Sky diving is overrated." Esme mused. "I get enough of an adrenaline rush on the job. So...maybe I'm not a junkie, but definitely an enthusiast." She offers as she studies him . "A good philosophy. To look ahead. Getting stuck in the past is a dangerous thing, but it doesn't hurt to revisit it now and again regardless. I don't know, I enjoy thinking about different ways certain scenarios could have played out. I try to never regret the decisions I make, but I still like to reflect. Reflect and then look forward to the future. It's all intertwined in its own way." There's a bit more of a smile that settles now. "It was the perfect way to end the evening."

Her leg relaxes some into his as he asks about the unsolved cases. "Nothing is impossible. The truth is out there. You just have to look in the right places. Sometimes those places are very difficult to find though." Esme nods. "Well Zodiac Killer is one of the big ones. I always keep an eye and ear to the ground. Most of the unsolved crimes I investigate are the cold cases. Things that are officially closed. So they're all older. One of them is called the Tube Sock killings the late 80s. 2 couples, killed about a month or so apart. The women had tube socks tied around their neck. The boyfriend of the second woman killed was thought to be a suspect because no one could find him. And his daughter, just a toddler, was found in front of a Target I think it was. BUT in 2011 they found part of his skull. I don't think he had anything to do with it. My guess is the killer didn't have the stomach to kill the kid. So they just nabbed her and left her at the store."

There's a beat of pause and then she looked a little sheepish. "Sorry. Sometimes once I get started I can't stop. It's highly likely one of these days we're just going to spend the whole time playing, well, detective instead of whatever the original plans were."

"I appreciate reflecting as well. I certainly thought about the kiss," Yule offers up, before his head wobbles, not quite bought off on the considering those other possibilities. "I suppose I tend to do that before acting, yeah? Comes with the teachings of being a doctor. At least in my personal life. Think of other alternatives on, say, what caused the hole in the skull? Sure, fair game." Up his hand comes, sipping from that scotch, those brown eyes twinkling with vivid intrigue, as much for the case she explains as it is for the passion behind it.

"You plan to be contrary to everything with me?" Yule asks when she goes into nothing is impossible, but it's spoken with far more warmth and approval, not even a hint of tease to it. "More time that passes, the harder it is, yeah? Less evidence that survives, fuzzier memories. Though in the cases of missing bodies, if found? It's amazing what can still be unearthed even after years, depending on conditions." Only when that sheepish smile makes an appearance does Yule reach out, depositing his glass upon the counter on his side of the couch. And then? That arm comes back, hand tucking beneath her knees unless she squirms away, his other slipping behind her back. With one fluid motion, the examiner seeks to turn her to the side and draw her up into his lap, removing any last lingering bit of distance between them. "First? That's a shit reason to apologize. You enjoy it. If I've had enough? Trust me. I'll let you know. Second? No original plans, yeah? Just spending time, remember? So, if you want to spend all night showing me documentaries of sock killers," It's a pointed look her way, that head tipping in even closer. "I'm game."

"Makes sense. Unless it's something...vitally serious...I admit I'm more of an, act first ask questions later person. In the heat of the moment." Esme mused and then grinned again. "Being contrary adds a little extra to keep things interesting." Nodding along with his mention of passing time. "Time passing does cause things to get fuzzy. But, I suppose that's half the challenge too. Trying to beat the odds. Race against time." She grips her glass of scotch tighter as Yule suddenly sweeps her up and into his lap. Even so, just a little still spills over the edge. Her tongue comes out to lick quickly against the rim of the glass and catch the spill before focusing up on Yule again.

"Have you ever had the opportunity to do that? Examine a body that was unearthed long after the case originally opened up?" Esme leaned over to set her scotch down and then relaxed into his frame easily enough. "I'll remember...not to apologize for talking about something I enjoy." Her arm came up to loop around his shoulders lightly. "I'll take you up on that then Duchannes. We'll have an Unsolved Mysteries marathon." And Esme seemed to rather like that idea.

"Yeah, sure. Medical emergencies, you just have to know what to do. Or know when to act." A warm bit of laughter comes from him as he watches her, Yule's arms lazily encircling her as she settles in against his frame. "I have. You'd get it in NYC every now and again. Body discovered that was old but recently discovered. Or sometimes, new evidence that required exhuming a body. Rare, but there? You saw a bit of... almost everything."

"You'd better," Comes that faux threat about not apologizing, and up one eyebrow arches for her challenge. "Sure. I make no promises to behaving during said marathon, however." Only once her scotch is set down, and that thought allowed to pleasantly linger does his head nestle in closer, forehead pressing gently to her own. "You ready to exchange sweaters? I'll even let you be the judge of which is worse."

"I'd be interested to see...to just spend a month on Homicide in NYC. Watch how different things are, yet how similar." Esme nuzzled into Yule some as their foreheads touched. "Hmmm we'll see. There could be consequences to misbehaving you know..." She murmured, lips brushing close to his ear. Then her head tilted and soft laughter bubbled up. "Let's exchange them." She agreed. Her lips briefly brushing his cheek as well before she sat up a little more. "Go get yours...we'll reveal at the same time. I'm extremely curious to see what you've gotten for me."

"Yeah? Well, I can't arrange a month. But when we go to NYC," It's a Sure Thing now, the way those words roll from his tongue, confidence in every bit of the thought from Yule. "I'll bring you by my old spot, intrdouce you to some of the detectives in the precinct, see if they have anything really interesting at the time you could ride along with for a day." That bearded cheek presses back against her lips, but he isn't satisfied with just that, tipping his head until lips brush full on, barely, and his teeth catch her lower. Gently it's tugged until it slips free, and then ever so carefully she's slid back on the couch. "All right. Just a second," Up he stands, and then it's those handful of steps necessary to get him back into the bedroom. When he returns? It's with that sweater hidden behind his back.

Waiting until she's ready, he starts that countdown. "Three. Two. One." And then he pulls out something truly awful, which Yule's player? Won't even try to describe, and instead presents you with: https://www.thebalanceeveryday.com/thmb/BTD7A9vdArQS5l6w65hy50xi2bw=/950x0/filters:format(webp)/biglots-5b4cd0d746e0fb00372bfbdf.jpg

Esme pressed the kiss just a little further, so it was more of a kiss than a brushing of lips just before his teeth caught. There's a touch of a devilish look in her eyes as they pull apart. "Hope you brought your A-game." She waggled her brows playfully as he sat her down. Her scotch was retrieved and a longer sip taken while he retrieved the sweater. She grins and giggles before reaching her hand into her bag. On three, she pulls out a sweater that is perhaps equally as awful but on a different level. She just stared for a long moment at his and broke down in giggles. "Oh lord. I-fuck. That." She drew in a breath, grinning. "I'm gonna have to pair it with a ridiculously short dress. To really complete the look." There's another little giggle.

(( https://i.pinimg.com/564x/73/a4/20/73a4204cf45f2e35f79091932a1d2640.jpg ))

Those eyes go wide at the horror that Esme shows, one dark brow ticking upwards as he studies it. "Someone really hated rudolf, didn't they. Are his eyes even straight?" Back and fourth his head shakes in disbelief, before the hanger the sweater he holds is on is tucked against the top cabinet so the thing will hang. Forward Yule comes, one hand lowering to draw Esme up to her feet, "Short dress, yeah? I'm not even sure /what/ I'd pare that with. Probably doesn't matter... no one will look down at my pants." And then? His fingers curl around her glass, carefully extracting it from her her hold to put it down on the counter.

"So. Who wins?" Comes the first question, but clearly the man has something else in mind. "And second? You need to try it on." Which, apparently? Is a bit more complex then just tossing it on. His fingers come to rest against her waist, and bit by bit the fabric of her shirt is gathered up, until the bare skin of her stomach is revealed. "Did you decorate this one yourself?"

Esme is still giggling a little as she lays the terrible sweater on the couch. She accepts Yule's hand as she rises to her feet. "I'd say, you should wear some real old style parachute pants." She leans a bit against the counter, dark eyes bright, twinkling with amusement. Her head tilted, a few strands of hair falling in her face as he asked about winning. "Oh do I?" A smirk on her lips. Answering the second question rather than the first. There's a shallow inhalation of breath as he started to slowly lift up her shirt. "I dunno...will it even properly cover my torso?" She words are a bit teasing, maybe a little challenge to it.

Her hand came up to brush her fingers against his stubble . "I can't claim to be the artist on the rudolph thing...but I may have added the garland. For that extra pizzazz." There's a smirk at hat. "And I feel like we're nearly even of awfulness. For different reasons. What do you think?"

"Jesus. I'm pretty sure my sense of self style is already going to be shriveled up putting that thing on, and you suggest parachute pants to go along with it? Might as well grow out my mullet, too." Yule's features scrunch up a bit at the very thought, and despite those questioning words if she does, his fingers don't stop. Nails scrape gently againt the bare flesh that is revealed as he takes his time in drawing it up, until finally it drags just beneath the soft swell of breasts. "I suppose it could be a tie. We didn't have anything wagered on the worst looking, after all."

In his head leans against that hand, brushing that stubble to her fingers, and then his teeth catch her wrist for a playful nip, before the draw of that shirt means those arms must be lifted. "I'd complain about the garland... but just look at this monstrosity I gave you. I'm not sure how you'll even sit down with it." Only then does he get back to that challenge as her shirt is tossed off to the couch, turning her until her backside is pinned to that counter with a lazy lean. "I hope not. Picked it out with the expectation it wouldn't cover all of your torso."

"Yule with a mullet hmmm?" She twirls a bit of his hair in her fingers. "I'd be extremely amusing to see it all come together even just for a day." Esme released his hair, letting him slide that shirt up. A pleased little noise at his nails scraping against her flesh. Her skin, while smooth, is far from imperfections. "I'd be happy with a tie. " He can feel little scars here and there from old injuries as his hands travel up farther. Up, up, and up the shirt goes until it's gone to find it's new resting place on the couch. All that remained now on her torso was a black, lace bra.

"And a monstrosity it is." Esme laughed even as he lazily pinned her to the counter. "I'm sure I'll find some way to manage...perhaps I just won't sit at all. But I will model it for you. Least I can do and all." Her hands settled lightly on his chest. "I suppose the real question is how much else of me you want covered while I'm trying it on." There's a touch of teasing there as well, though her eyes were dancing with mischief and curiosity.

"Just a tie? I think I could see you pulling that off," Comes Yule's purposeful misunderstanding of those words, and down his brown eyes come to sweep across that bare skin revealed. Fingertips brush across a few of those scars, touching here and there, but that moment of probing curiosity is stowed as he looks back up to her. "There isn't any question." Comes his firm response as those arms come around in a loose hold against her.

"I'm going to grab a blanket, and we? Are going to put some unsolved case documentary on we find from Netflix. I'll watch about," His head tips back and fourth, considering, "Five minutes of it before distracting you with kisses, until late into the night. You'll stay over, we will sleep," It's said in the true sense of the world, rather than it's more sexual conotation, "And in the morning? You'll model the sweater, and we will decorate the tree." A beat of a pause, "Late in the morning. Because if you gladly suffer through all of that? I'm likely to be very distracted with you when we first wake up." Down those eyes flicker to her mouth, but as tempting as it is to watch it alone, it's the rest of her that is focused on, all to judge her reaction to that carefully detailed plan.

Esme playfully rolled her eyes at his misunderstanding, a smile quirking on the corner of her lips as she enjoyed the light touch of his fingers against her skin. Fleeting memories crossing over her mind when he touched a scar. She remains quiet as he lays out the plan for the rest of the evening and into the morning . A thoughtful look resting on her features as she considered it. She did have to go into work tomorrow evening, but that left plenty of time for this plan of his to unfold. Finally Esme drew in a soft breath, speaking on the exhalation. "I still don't know what to make of you Duchannes. But I do know you are excellent at planning things. And that this blanket you produce better be a comfortable one." She was already running through her mental file of documentaries on Netflix that would be suitable. Ones she'd already watched and it wouldn't bother her to miss or for attention not to be completely paid.

"And I look forward to thoroughly distracting you tomorrow with that beacon you've gotten for me." Esme tilted her head up so she could press a light kiss to his lips. It was a struggle for her, to try and really let herself believe that this wasn't just a casual thing in the making. Even though the signs for potential were there - like the fact that this was the first time he was seeing her without a shirt on. As silly as that might seem. She gave his lip a quick nip as she pulled back. "Alright, go get your blanket while I find the best documentary to teach you alllll about unsolved mysteries."

Blanket? Right. He'll get there, eventually. But right now, he's turning that light kiss and nip into a far fuller kiss, completely with a low rumble of noise from the back of his throat. His jaw pops lightly as it parts his lips, all so his tongue can delve out, trailing against those lush tiers of her mouth, savoring that taste, teasing to the tip of hers before it is broken with a succulent little sound. "I mentioned the shirt stays off, right?" That smile can be felt against her mouth, and ever so slowly, reluctantly, he peels away. "Controller is beneath the TV, yeah? Netflix button on it." And thus, she has free reign to see that Yule? Already mostly watches documentaries about history. And medicine.

"If worse comes to worse with the Christmas tree decorating, and it doesn't survive?" He offers up over his shoulder as he steps into the area that serves as the bedroom at the back of the trailer, "I'll just have you stand up on my side table in that sweater. You'll look just like a tree."

It was really quite unfair, Esme thought, the way he pulled her deeper into the kiss. And the way it makes her just want to keep him in it. Her lips part ever so slightly, as if encouraging him and that tongue of his to continue their exploration. And then their lips are parting and a low, nearly disappointed noise leaves her. Not to worry, surely there were more kisses on the way. "I vote that if my shirt stays off, yours has to come off too." Esme plucks lightly at one of his shirt buttons. "Fair is fair and all that." She steals a quick nip to his neck as he releases her and she makes her way over to the television. When she does, he can properly see there's a tattoo in the middle of her back. A mint green ball of yarn set atop a pair of silver knitting needles in a Jolly Roger fashion. The phrase 'Knitting keeps me from unraveling' is written along with it, with the 'G' in unraveling turning into a strand of yarn that trails off.

Esme smirked as she looked over to him. "Will I get to wear a star on my head too?" She quipped back with a chuckle before claiming the remote and settling back on the couch. She idly browses through his own documentary line up before navigating the search. She settles on 'Forensic Files' for now, queuing up an episode for them to start with.