#Vent Hood Services

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Understanding Ventilation Power: Selecting the Ideal CFM for Your Kitchen Exhaust Hood Installation

When it comes to kitchen exhaust hood installation, one of the most crucial factors to consider is the ventilation power, measured in cubic feet per minute (CFM). Choosing the right CFM ensures your kitchen remains free from smoke, grease, and odors, providing a safe and comfortable environment. This guide will help you understand how to select the appropriate CFM for your kitchen exhaust hood, enhancing both functionality and compliance with safety standards.

Why CFM Matters in Kitchen Exhaust Hood Installation

CFM, or cubic feet per minute, measures the volume of air a hood can exhaust in one minute. The right CFM is essential for effective ventilation, determining how quickly and efficiently smoke, steam, and grease are removed from your kitchen. An inadequate CFM can lead to poor air quality and increased fire hazards, while an excessively high CFM can be unnecessarily noisy and energy-consuming.

Calculating the Right CFM for Your Kitchen

The size of your cooking area and the type of cooking you do significantly impact the CFM requirements. For standard cooking ranges, a basic rule of thumb is 100 CFM per linear foot of cooktop. For example, a 30-inch range would need a hood with at least 250 CFM. For more intensive cooking methods, such as grilling or frying, you may need a higher CFM to ensure adequate ventilation.

Factors Influencing CFM Requirements

Several factors influence the CFM requirements for your kitchen exhaust hood installation:

Cooking Style: Heavy cooking styles like frying or grilling produce more smoke and grease, requiring higher CFM.

Kitchen Size: Larger kitchens may need more powerful hoods to ensure complete ventilation.

Ductwork Length: Longer duct runs can reduce efficiency, necessitating higher CFM to maintain performance.

Hood System Installation

Proper hood system installation is key to maximizing the effectiveness of your kitchen exhaust hood. Professional installation ensures your hood is correctly positioned and ducted, optimizing airflow and ventilation. Experts can assess your specific kitchen layout and recommend the best system and CFM for your needs, ensuring safety and compliance with local regulations.

Benefits of Choosing the Right CFM

Selecting the appropriate CFM for your kitchen exhaust hood offers several benefits:

Improved Air Quality: Efficient ventilation removes contaminants, keeping the air fresh and clean.

Enhanced Safety: Proper ventilation reduces the risk of grease fires and improves overall kitchen safety.

Energy Efficiency: Choosing the right CFM ensures your hood operates efficiently, saving on energy costs.

Noise Reduction: An appropriately powered hood operates more quietly, creating a more pleasant cooking environment.

Professional Kitchen Exhaust Hood Installation

Opting for professional kitchen exhaust hood installation guarantees your hood system is tailored to your kitchen’s specific needs. At Red Eagle – Kitchen Hood Services LA, we specialize in providing expert installation services. Our experienced team will help you choose the right CFM and ensure your hood is installed for maximum efficiency and safety.

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Reducing Fire Hazards: The Importance of Regular Hood Degreasing and Maintenance

Fire safety is a critical concern in any kitchen, especially in busy commercial settings. One of the best ways to minimize fire risks is through consistent kitchen exhaust hood cleaning and degreasing. Regular maintenance of the exhaust hood system removes built-up grease and contaminants, significantly reducing the chances of ignition and ensuring a safer workspace for everyone.

Why Kitchen Exhaust Hood Cleaning is Essential for Fire Safety

In a bustling kitchen, the exhaust hood and ventilation system work constantly to filter out grease, smoke, and odors. Over time, grease can build up inside the hood, ducts, and filters, creating a potential fire hazard. Regular hood degreasing and kitchen exhaust cleaning help prevent this accumulation, keeping the system operating efficiently and safely. This maintenance is a vital part of any fire prevention strategy, especially for commercial kitchens.

The Importance of Regular Degreasing and Maintenance

Routine kitchen exhaust hood maintenance provides several advantages beyond just fire safety. It can extend the lifespan of your exhaust system and improve air quality within the kitchen. Here are some key reasons to prioritize regular hood cleaning and degreasing:

Minimized Fire Risks: Removing grease buildup reduces the chance of fires starting within the exhaust system.

Enhanced Airflow: A clean exhaust system allows for better ventilation, improving comfort for kitchen staff.

Energy Efficiency: Clean exhaust hoods operate more effectively, potentially reducing energy costs for your business.

Professional Kitchen Exhaust Hood Cleaning Services

While some kitchen staff may try to handle cleaning themselves, hiring professional kitchen exhaust cleaning services ensures a more thorough and effective job. These experts have the tools and experience to clean every part of the exhaust system, including areas where grease tends to accumulate. This not only helps you comply with local fire codes but also gives you peace of mind, knowing your kitchen is safe.

Professional services can create a cleaning schedule tailored to your kitchen’s needs, whether it’s weekly, monthly, or quarterly maintenance. They also provide documentation of each cleaning, which is crucial for meeting regulatory requirements and maintaining insurance coverage.

Signs That Your Kitchen Exhaust Hood Needs Cleaning

Recognizing when your kitchen exhaust hood needs cleaning is vital for maintaining a safe kitchen. Here are some signs that it’s time to schedule a professional cleaning:

Visible grease or residue on the hood or filters

Smoke lingering in the kitchen longer than usual

Unusual noises or reduced airflow from the exhaust fan

Challenges in passing fire safety inspections

Addressing these signs quickly with thorough kitchen hood cleaning can prevent more serious issues and help keep your kitchen safe.

Protect Your Kitchen with Regular Exhaust Hood Cleaning

Routine kitchen exhaust hood cleaning and degreasing are essential for reducing fire hazards and ensuring the safety of your kitchen. By investing in professional cleaning services and maintaining a consistent schedule, you can protect your kitchen from fire risks, improve air quality, and keep your exhaust system functioning smoothly. Prioritizing regular cleaning not only ensures compliance with fire safety regulations but also creates a safer and more efficient kitchen for your staff and customers.

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From Fire Hazards to Safety: How Regular Cleaning Saves Kitchens

Maintaining a safe commercial kitchen goes beyond preparing delicious meals—it’s also about keeping the equipment clean and safe. A crucial part of this is kitchen exhaust hood cleaning. Without routine cleaning, grease buildup in the exhaust hood can become a significant fire hazard. Understanding how regular maintenance protects kitchens is key to creating a safer workspace.

How Grease Buildup Becomes a Fire Risk

As food cooks, grease and oil particles rise with the steam and stick to surfaces inside the exhaust hood and ductwork. Over time, this buildup forms a highly flammable layer, turning the kitchen ventilation system into a potential fire hazard. Even a small spark or high heat from cooking could ignite the grease, causing flames to spread quickly through the ducts. That’s why regular kitchen exhaust hood maintenance is essential to reduce fire risks.

The Benefits of Consistent Kitchen Exhaust Hood Cleaning

Keeping up with kitchen hood cleaning offers several advantages beyond fire prevention. It improves air quality, helps the kitchen meet safety regulations, and enhances the overall efficiency of the exhaust system. Here are some key benefits:

Fire Prevention: Regular cleaning significantly reduces the risk of grease fires, protecting your staff and property.

Enhanced Air Quality: Clean exhaust systems help remove smoke and odors, creating a more comfortable environment for both employees and guests.

Compliance with Regulations: Many local fire codes require routine kitchen exhaust cleaning to meet safety standards, ensuring your kitchen stays compliant.

Professional Services vs. DIY Cleaning: Which Is Best?

When it comes to maintaining a clean kitchen exhaust hood, choosing between professional services and DIY methods depends on your kitchen’s needs. Understanding the differences can help you make the best choice:

Why Choose Professional Kitchen Exhaust Hood Cleaning

Professional kitchen exhaust cleaning companies offer thorough services using specialized tools that reach deep into the ducts, ensuring all grease deposits are removed. This level of cleaning is especially important for high-volume kitchens where grease can build up quickly. Professional services provide a deeper clean that DIY methods may struggle to achieve.

DIY Kitchen Exhaust Hood Maintenance Tips

For smaller kitchens, some owners opt for DIY methods, using degreasers and manually scrubbing accessible parts of the exhaust hood. While DIY cleaning can be effective as part of a routine, it often doesn’t reach the depth of professional cleaning. Regular inspections and thorough scrubbing are necessary to ensure no hidden grease remains, which could pose a fire risk.

Determining How Often to Clean Your Kitchen Exhaust Hood

The frequency of kitchen exhaust hood cleaning depends on how busy your kitchen is. High-traffic restaurants may need professional cleanings every three months, while smaller kitchens might manage with biannual maintenance. Regular inspections can help determine when a more thorough cleaning is needed, ensuring that grease doesn’t accumulate to unsafe levels.

Prioritize Safety with Routine Maintenance

Neglecting regular kitchen exhaust hood cleaning can lead to serious fire hazards, turning your ventilation system into a potential danger. Consistent cleaning not only keeps your kitchen safer but also improves the overall environment for staff and customers. Whether you choose professional services or manage the cleaning yourself, maintaining a clean exhaust hood is essential for preventing fires and ensuring a safe, efficient kitchen.

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Expert Hood Cleaning for Fire Safety

Grease buildup in kitchen exhaust hoods is a leading cause of fires in commercial kitchens. Our professional kitchen exhaust hood cleaning services ensure your system is free of grease and working efficiently. Protect your kitchen today by scheduling a cleaning with our experts.

Red Eagle Fire Protection Encino Encino, CA (213) 698-3894 https://redeaglerestfirehood.com/

[red-eagle-fire-protection-agoura]

Expert Kitchen Exhaust Hood Repair by Red Eagle Fire Protection Agoura Hills

Red Eagle Fire Protection in Agoura Hills is here to help! Specializing in Kitchen Exhaust Hood Repair, our expert team ensures your kitchen stays safe and efficient. A malfunctioning exhaust hood can lead to poor ventilation, smoke buildup, and even fire hazards. Don’t let these issues compromise your safety. Our skilled technicians will diagnose and fix the problem, restoring your exhaust hood to peak performance. Trust Red Eagle Fire Protection Agoura Hills for professional, reliable service that keeps your kitchen running smoothly.

Red Eagle Fire Protection Agoura Hills Agoura Hills, CA (747) 326-2084 https://redeaglerestfirehood.com/agoura-hills-ca/

[business4u]

Rooftop Grease Containment

Protect your property with our rooftop grease containment services in Frisco TX. We implement effective containment solutions to prevent grease buildup and ensure roof safety. Trust our expertise for comprehensive protection and compliance with safety standards.

[pearlywritings]

Courted by a... Hero?

synopsis: Diluc has feelings for you, but is under the impression that you do not reciprocate - his courting attempts show as much. But he comes to find out, that you are at ease around his alter ago... 

It won’t hurt to try and court you as the Darknight Hero. Right?

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: fluff, pining, courting, seemingly unreciprocated feelings, Darknight Hero!Diluc

word count: 3k words

a/n: this was suggested by a lovely anon~

Diluc Ragnvindr is enamored with you.

Diluc Ragnvindr thinks he is not that subtle about his affections. But it seems that he actually is, because otherwise the Master of the Dawn Winery does not understand how you manage to miss all the clues, all the longing gazes, all the small compliments and acts he does for you in attempts to hint that he'd like to court you.

Аpparently the longing in his eyes is lost in his regular stoic and a bit mournful expression, small compliments are so polite that it's not hard to mistake them for his gentlemanly antics, and his other actions are just a thread away from acts of service and help, which, given his сhivalry nature, do not stand out too.

Diluc doesn't get many opportunities to see you, since you do not visit the tavern often, but he tries so hard to make the meetings more numerous. An invitation to play cards at the Cat's Tail here and there, an insistence to walk you home, an offer to accompany you through the market as you go grocery shopping, always coming with an excuse of checking on the goods to tell Elzer later what purchases they should change for the Winery and its workers. Adelinde always smiles at him knowingly whenever some new dishes are added to his menu.

He is trying to show his affections to you, he really does, but he is too dense for that to come out exactly as he pictured it in his head. However, when you smile at him softly, accepting his offers, when you vent a little to him about a stupid coworker, when you stop at the Good Hunter to have supper with him - he thinks that the long process is worth it.

It's a great surprise, but the first time he gets an opportunity to hold you close is not a part of you dating him. No, your relationship is far from that, and his persona is hidden under the mask and a hooded cape, as he carries you bridal style. He is well aware of you staring up at him, but he can't make himself lower his gaze and meet with yours. He is just bringing you to a safe place after you twisted your ankle on a late evening run to catch a cat for your neighbor - a sweet old woman, whose pet seems to love escaping on an almost daily basis.

It's so hard to believe that he managed to be in the right place, at the right time, yet he chides himself for not arriving earlier - he could've caught you, preventing you from injuring yourself and falling. 

But it is such a quiet night… Maybe that's why he heard your painful yelp from two blocks away, rushing to help whoever got themselves in danger, and finding you sitting on the pavement and rubbing your leg.

"So… Mister Darknight Hero," he nearly groans at the name people gave him. He is intrigued by your lack of fear though, or at least worry, about some stranger picking you up and carrying you somewhere. The relaxed ring of arms wrapped around his neck only further proves it.

"Yes?" Diluc makes his voice gruff and low, still avoiding eye contact.

"Where are you taking me?" You sound curious, and the redhead can't help, but feel a bit aggravated - shouldn't you be concerned? Of course he is not taking you home - it'd be both creepy if a stranger knew your address and stupid, since your leg needs proper examination and treatment. Though still, you are so willingly accepting the masked man's help and entrust your fate in his arms fully, that it makes sarcasm evident in his words.

"On a late night date," he huffs with a slight roll of his eyes, letting his boldness out - something he can't allow himself to do often in the broad daylight as Diluc Ragnvindr.

"Oh really?" There is a hint of amusement in your tone, like you are enjoying his admission. "We've just met and you are bringing me on a date already? My, aren't you a forward man, Mister Hero. And where is this amazing place that's open so late? The tavern?"

"The hospital," Diluc does not realize it, but his cheeks are tinted pink, even if his voice remains inexpressive. However, he easily notices how relaxed you are in his hold, in his presence - even shooting teasing comments back at him and calling a date, well, a date. That's like more progress than he's had in the past month trying to court you.

Can it be… that he must change his approach? You, of course, can be attracted to completely different qualities in a man, and he should've taken it into consideration. Maybe this whole time he's been doing everything wrong.

Yet it’s too early to jump to conclusions, even if the winery owner slowly but surely grows desperate. To avoid false assumptions he decides to give it a proper thought tomorrow, after he visits you to check on your condition, bare of his alter ego.

As the morning comes and the sun gets brighter, Diluc is patiently waiting for the afternoon to see you. Half a day is enough for him to ‘receive the news’ about your condition however, but those several hours are excruciating. Are you well? Does your ankle hurt? Are you hungry? Maybe he should bring you food from Good Hunter… Are you thinking of him? Or…of tonight?

These thoughts are eating at his consciousness and when the midday eventually comes, the poor man looks exhausted. Lisa, whom he bumps into near the Alchemy stand, comments on it accordingly. Oh, but how fortunate it is, that she is the one to tell him about the events of last night and your current whereabouts.

“She looked ecstatic though,” the woman smiles, hands crossed and an intricate bell chiming on the tip of her large hat as she walks beside Diluc. “You should’ve seen that look on her face when she was telling me about the hero who saved her… Oh, but you will, won’t you? I am guessing you are going to pay her a visit.”

“You are correct,” the redhead nods, eyes trained on the today’s menu of the restaurant, as they get closer. “Right after I buy her some lunch.”

“A bouquet too, perhaps,” the smile turns teasing, emerald eyes glinting with knowledge. “I wonder when…” she pauses, but then decides against speaking what’s on her mind, shaking her head. “No matter. Good luck, Diluc.”

Luck? It’s such an abstract thing, something the wine tycoon doesn’t want in his life. If he needs something - he’d forge it with his own two hands, the ones that are currently occupied with a steaming meal and fresh flowers as he steps inside your chamber.

You are so lovely. Crimson eyes take in your resting form, basking in the sunlight from an open window. Warm rays kiss your cheeks and nose, falling right on the pages of a book he is sure Lisa has brought you. Tranquility suits you like the best of dresses and for a moment he gets lost in a scene before him, honored to be a part of it. 

That is until you lift your gaze and look at him and this time it’s your smile that makes the noble man go weak.

“Diluc! Hi,” your voice is so soft, bursting with excitement, which is also evident in how quickly you shut your book and put it away. This is a signal for the redhead to finally move closer and he eagerly takes this chance.

“I heard about what happened to you,” he offers you flowers and you gasp - a beautiful sound that touches the deepest strings of his soul. “I wanted to make you feel better. Also, I brought lunch.”

“Diluc…” There is appreciation in your tone, one, that strokes his ego. “You really didn’t have to, but I won’t decline the offer. Not to offend anyone,” you lower your voice, “but the food here is terrible.”

And he laughs. That’s a deep marvelous sound, that comes all the way from the confines of his chest, reserved for you only. Your giggles compliment it so perfectly, and when you hide behind the flowers, with only your eyes on display, shining and crinkling from joy - he falls in love even harder.

It almost feels like a date his nightly persona promised to take you on - flowers, delicious meal, his undivided attention… And even though it is not all that different from all the other times you spent together, this one feels far more special.

“So… You say you were saved by the Darknight Hero?” This question has been dancing on the tip of his tongue long before you even started to retell him the story of tonight. You nod vigorously, chewing on the most delicious chicken you’ve ever had.

“Mhm. And Archons, when I say this man is bold, he is bold.”

Your tone and the way your eyes just glinted… Can he assume you love such a character more? Should he…pursue you under the disguise of your savior?

He sure can try.

And try he does. Every night you would receive a masked visitor in your window. Every day Diluc would also come, to bring you fresh flowers, glorious meals and with hopes to know what you think of his other occupation. The Darknight Hero turned out to be charming. Diluc Ragnvindr is charming too, but it’s a different kind of charming - secure, understanding, reliable, loyal. While his alter-ego is mysterious, brooding, flirting and bold.

You seem to enjoy the latter. Why else would you wait for him, refusing to sleep, knowing that the Darknight Hero would come? Why would your eyes remain soft when gazing at an already not a stranger, yet not an acquaintance still? Why would you entertain his jokes and ask to tell you about what he does for Mondstadt? Watching him perch on the windowsill, chin resting on your fisted hands and purest interest written all over your face...

He was so right to ask the staff to move you to a different room with a bed close to the window. Doesn't matter he had to climb to the third floor, it's all in the name of love, however cheezy it sounds.

Only one question remains - how should he bring up the courting? Every normal woman would freak out if a man she barely knows (come on, even his face and voice are veiled) asked her out. Soon you'll be discharged, and climbing into your apartment's window is inappropriate too. The night strolls? No, he can't rob you of more sleep than he already selfishly does. But what should he do…

You seem to like it though, so there is absolutely no reason to complain.

You notice his silence. Curiosity replaces all other senses, just as it has been for all these nights you’ve spent with the man, and you cock your head to the left shoulder, observing, trying to guess what's behind the wall of his mind.

"What got you thinking so hard, Mr Hero?" At least you dropped using the whole title, which he is forever grateful for. "You look like someone who's trying to solve an extremely difficult case. Mind sharing? Maybe I can help."

Archons, you are so-so precious… and not completely wrong. He supposes, that since you’ve already started this conversation… He might just give it a shot. After all he is an entirely different man for you now, right? The straightforward one too.

Yet why is his heart thumping so wildly in his chest?

“I was… am wondering, if such a gorgeous woman, sitting in front of me right now, would let me court her.”

That’s it. The words are out, no turning back here. It feels surreal, true, but the male reassures himself that at least one issue is going to be out of his way, and whatever decision you’d make - he’d take it. Even if you angrily chase him out of the chamber.

However, it’s so hard to look you in the eyes - those pretty eyes that are filled with warmth and admiration, two things that are easy to turn into a freezing cold and disgust.

“You? As in the Darknight Hero?”

Here it is. Here is the implication that might as well as mean that whatever you two built during the few nighttime meetings is now ruined by a simple half-flirtatious suggestion.

All he can do is nod.

“I am sorry, Sir,” oh, the everlasting softness of your voice... Is that really how one delivers the rejection? “But there is already someone in my heart. I hope you will understand.”

Of course he does, no matter how painful it is. A delicate soul and a loving heart of yours can’t stay unoccupied, it would’ve been stupid to think so. Doesn’t matter the notion pierces his heart - he mustn’t take it close to it while wearing a mask.

“I apologize,” is all he can mutter, the voice suddenly slipping its usual gruffness, but no attention is spared to it.

“No need,” he is aware of the groan of the mattress as you shift, pulling your legs over the edge of the bed, and fully facing him now. “I am actually grateful for you being here to hear that. It’s been hard to keep it all in,“ this he understands even more. “Can I ask for a small favor?”

“Sure,” it’s the least he can do for making you uncomfortable.

“Can I whisper his name to you?”

The night is magical. There is no other explanation than its luring spell for why the man who’s just gotten rejected is sliding off the windowsill and moving closer to you to grant you your request. It’s also possible that your curiosity is contagious, but, Diluc does not dwell on it, he knows that the Darknight Hero wouldn’t.

Just as he doesn’t have time to react. A startled gasp is stuck in his throat, a hand shoots up, but it’s too late. Thick crimson bangs are spilling from under the pulled hood and ruby eyes widen in fright when the mask is pulled off of his face. He freezes in his bending position, staring at you in disbelief, fingers curled in a grasp not so far from his face. The face you know all too well. 

“Knew it,” you look content, twirling the beaked accessory between your fingers. Your smile is serene, and the image of a beautiful tranquility once again makes his heart skip a beat. What’s going on? Is this even real? Is there an option to let the ground swallow him whole? What do you mean ‘you knew’? Is it a good thing? Is it a bad thing? Is he screwed?

Archons, is your relationship screwed?

“Diluc,” it's his own name that shakes him back to reality. The blush creeps up his cheeks, mixing the blazing hues of embarrassment and shame.

“Yes..?”

You cock your head again, the smile getting wider.

“I promised the name of whom my heart belongs to, no? It’s Diluc. Diluc Ragnvindr. You.”

He swears he will faint right here and now. It must be a dream, it must be!

“You are thinking it’s a dream, aren’t you?” With a sigh you abandon the mask on the duvet, reaching out for his gloved hand, carefully tracing the back of it with the tips of your fingers. “Well, it’s not. And I am serious.”

“But-” He clears his throat, cursing the weakness in his knees at the barest of your touch. His mind is rushing, he can’t make logical conclusions, he can barely think with everything suddenly crashing and crumbling around him. So his heart takes over, bringing up his most sacred concern. “But I thought you were not interested in me.”

“Of course I am!” He flinches when the offense slips into your tone. “Of course I am, it’s just… you never asked me about dating. And I falsely assumed you are satisfied with what we already have.”

And he was. For the longest time, until it became obvious that he is not.

“When you saved me that evening I knew it was you. There is no mistake in the comforting warmth your body exudes, nor in the way you generally carry yourself. Also those strong hands… Can you name that many claymore users?”

You’ve known all this time?

“Forgive me for being selfish,” you chuckle sheepishly, unconsciously fiddling with his fingers, and Diluc finds it both cute and reassuring, calming even. “I kept you both during the day and at night for myself. I just wanted to know this side of you better. To know you better. And when you asked me under the disguise of the Darknight Hero… I just knew I wanted to hear that from the Diluc Ragnvindr.”

“In that case,” he lowers on his knee, clasping your hands in his and lying to himself that it’s not from how his body collapses with relief, clinging to you as if you’ll turn out to be just a piece of his desperate imagination, “I am selfish too. Because I was coming to you day and night with the exact same thoughts.”

“Does it make us a couple of selfish idiots, who clearly lack communication skills?” You giggle, and, Archons, what a splendid sound.

“I guess it does. Though I’d like the ‘couple’ part to become more real," giving your palms a squeeze, Diluc takes a deep breath, and with a new-found confidence makes his intentions clear. "Y/n L/n, will you go out with me?”

“Yes!”

The redhead cannot keep in his own laughter when you tug on his hands to draw him closer, to throw your arms around his broad shoulders and bury you face in his hair, smiling ear to ear. Gingerly he places his own palms on the small of your back, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder, and releasing a shaky breath.

Together. You are officially together.

And he is going to take his time with you.

taglist: @axerrri

[red-eagle-fire-protection]

Reliable Kitchen Exhaust Hood Repair in Los Angeles

Is your kitchen exhaust hood not functioning properly? A malfunctioning hood can lead to poor air quality and increased fire risk. Our expert technicians provide reliable kitchen exhaust hood repair services to restore proper ventilation and safety to your kitchen. Contact us today for a quick and professional repair!

Red Eagle - Kitchen Hood Services LA Los Angeles, CA (213) 698-3893 https://redeaglerestfirehood.com/

[bettergeology]

Mount Hood

Mount Hood is the tallest peak in Oregon, over 11,240 feet. It's an active stratovolcano covered in glacial ice that last erupted about 240 years ago (in the 1780s, exact years unknown). The large crater that opens to the south near the summit was formed about 1,500 years ago, and the pinnacle standing in the middle - Crater Rock - was squeezed out like toothpaste in the most recent eruption (~240 years ago). The crater contains many active fumaroles and steam vents, hinting at the heat still within. The eruption that formed the crater is called the Timberline Eruptive Period. The collapse of the south face of the volcano deposited a huge debris fan that now appears as a gentle slope to the summit area. Timberline Lodge, a 1936 Works Progress Administration (WPA) project owned by the US Forest Service, is built on this debris fan and offers tremendous views of the southern glaciers, the summit cliffs, and the ski slopes that remain open to skiing through August most years.

These photos were taken in early August, 2022 on Kodak Gold film. Find more at my Flickr!

[lemuel-apologist]

Listen. The way that universities treat ADHD is deplorable. The way that the public at large treats ADHD is just as bad, but universities in particular are fresh on my mind, given where I am in life, about a month post-graduation.

This post is a bit of a preamble. Bear with me.

I struggled through three and a half years of genuine college being the way I am with no buffer; had an unwelcome epiphany of a diagnosis at the end of my second-to-last semester; and had the best semester, confidence- and social-life-wise of my life-- which was, simultaneously, the worst semester of my life academically. I have gone on and on about organic chemistry and how it fucked with me, but I don't know that I have gone into why.

Post-diagnosis, I was presented with the opportunity to tell my ochem professor about anything that could be an issue during the semester. I debated it; I debated it very seriously; but this form was a graded assignment, and I had to either tell him or not tell him, and it was better than I tell him than not. So, I told him, in very edited-down words, that I have some issues with anxiety and I have ADHD. Both have, because of how I am as a person, meant that I have to approach labs in a certain way and I probably will freak out at some point, but I was optimistic that it wouldn't be an issue at that point, and I would recuse myself to the hall if it was. (After all, I'd been medicated for about a month and, in that time, had survived moot court, navigated a family member's arrest that I advised on forensically, and cooked for two family events. I was fine. I was only medicated for the sake of anxiety. It was working as planned.)

I have a bone to pick with that professor in particular for a lot of reasons. He had a lot of interactions with women that rubbed me the wrong way, but none of them crossed that line like they did with me. I told him the way that things were going for me, I told him what I needed (a chance to eat before class, some extensions as needed on assignments, and clarifications on what he wanted done with equipment), and he consistently held me to a higher standard to other students, stepped in to mess with my fume hood when I didn't ask him to, and, importantly, would dock anyone up to five points from their labwork for being late to class, meaning that I couldn't eat before lab, since I had to sprint uphill from my osteology class-- which he knew, because that was something I told him. I vented very briefly, in exasperation, to my Senate advisor, who was the only member of faculty anywhere near administration who knew about my ADHD; and, when she asked why I didn't see about more formal accommodations, I reminded her the state of our school's Disability Services processes, which we were in the middle of advocating for fixing, as a block (famously hard to navigate and famously impossible to get through in a timely manner, meaning I wouldn't be able to do anything about it before I graduated-- and it wouldn't guarantee nonretaliation anyway).

And you know what? I got a D+ not because of him, but in SPITE of him. I got a C total not because of him, but in SPITE of him. Eat my FUCKING ass.

[iammeandmy]

The kitchen is the heart of the home, so it’s essential that it feels both functional and beautiful. However, even the most well-loved kitchens can fall victim to design faux pas that can make them feel cluttered, outdated, or less than practical. Luckily, many of these problems can be easily fixed once you know what to look for. Whether you’re gearing up for a full kitchen renovation or just looking for ways to improve the appearance of your space, here are seven things in your kitchen that are making it look bad, according to design pros. Meet the Expert Philip Thomas Vanderford is the owner and founder of Studio Thomas James, a full-service interior design firm based in Dallas, Texas. Teri Simone is the head of design and marketing at Nieu Cabinet Doors, a bespoke cabinet door company that offers luxury products at DIY-friendly prices. Heavy Ornate Cabinetry Designers agree that if there’s one thing that can instantly date a kitchen and make it look bad, it’s overly ornate and heavy cabinetry. “Overly detailed cabinetry with intricate moldings feels visually cumbersome and lacks the subtlety required for a modern [kitchen]," says Philip Thomas Vanderford, owner and founder of Studio Thomas James. "These designs often overwhelm the space and appear outdated rather than timeless." Instead, bring your kitchen into the modern era with sleek lines and slim profiles. Choose natural wood tones, warm neutral hues, or richly pigmented lacquers, all of which offer an effortlessly sophisticated appeal. Teri Simone, head of design and marketing at Nieu Cabinet Doors, says shaker cabinets are always a great choice.  “Classic shakers will never go out of style—and you can repaint them without it looking like an obvious attempt at a refresh,” she says. Want more design inspiration? Sign up for our free daily newsletter for the latest decor ideas, designer tips, and more! Dark Granite Countertops Dark granite countertops are another design faux pas to avoid if timeless and sophisticated is the goal, Vanderford says. “High-gloss, speckled granite countertops exude an era of ostentation rather than contemporary refinement," he says. "Their busy patterns can feel heavy and visually chaotic." Instead, Vanderford recommends choosing sleek, natural surfaces with softer, more organic movement. These materials bring elegance and harmony, serving as a refined yet understated focal point rather than the immediate center of attention. However, if dark and dramatic is what you crave, don’t be afraid to opt for a material like black marble for a moody feel. Over-the-Range Microwaves Over-the-range microwaves were once commonplace in kitchen design, but they’re becoming increasingly scarce, and for good reason. While practical on the surface, this clunky arrangement creates visual clutter and has its functionality drawbacks, too. For one, an over-the-range microwave means a vented range hood is out of the question. Vented range hoods, while not required, significantly help to improve air quality in the kitchen and are often preferred when available. Second, due to their location, over-the-range microwaves are susceptible to lots of grime and require more frequent exterior cleaning.   Consider replacing your over-the-range microwave with a range hood (vented or ductless) and moving it to a different location.  “Integrate a built-in microwave drawer within the cabinetry or conceal it entirely within a pantry," says Vanderford. "This subtle approach ensures the focus remains on the kitchen’s design while still delivering functionality." Overuse of Stainless Steel Appliances Stainless steel appliances are everywhere, and your kitchen is likely full of them. However, experts caution against going all-in on stainless steel in the kitchen.  “A kitchen dominated by stainless steel can feel sterile and lacks the warmth and depth expected in modern luxury spaces,” Vanderford says. Even if luxury isn’t what you’re going for, there’s no denying that stainless-steel-everything can feel a bit cold, regardless of your home’s style. Plus—the cleaning! The fingerprints! It’s not always the most practical choice either.  Instead of choosing stainless steel for all your appliances, designers suggest varying the finishes in your space. Vanderford notes that panel-ready appliances are ideal for seamlessly integrating with custom cabinetry. Alternatively, explore distinctive finishes such as brushed or matte metals to enhance your design with a bespoke feel.  Tile Countertops Tile countertops were once beloved for their charm and warmth in the kitchen. Today, however, they are a sign of times gone by, according to Vanderford. Plus, the grout lines can deteriorate and discolor over time, making them impractical long-term. “Transition to single-surface countertops crafted from finely honed materials that exude understated luxury," he says. "The monolithic quality creates a polished, cohesive aesthetic." Unless you are going for a truly retro look, designers recommend leaving this trend in the time capsule.  Dated Light Fixtures Is your kitchen still rocking the outdated, builder-grade light fixtures that came with the house? If so, Vanderford says, it’s time to swap them out. It can be easy to forget about lighting, especially in the kitchen, where more prominent features like cabinets and countertops take priority, but the right light fixture can completely transform the look and feel of a space. Consider swapping out the old, dull fixtures for something more unique and personal.  “Introduce lighting that functions as both art and illumination," Vanderford says. "Sculptural pieces in metal, glass, or textured materials create drama and depth, ensuring the lighting becomes a defining element of the space." Exposed Trash Cans It needs little explanation that exposed trash cans in the kitchen will make the space look bad. With so many modern and sleek solutions for hiding trash receptacles in the kitchen, exposed bins are just a no. It’s a dated way of thinking about kitchen storage, Simone says. Luckily, you don’t need a total cabinet refresh to hide your cans, and a fully customized kitchen isn’t necessary either. According to Simone, there are many clever storage solutions for integrating garbage, recycling, and compost into your kitchen design—no extensive renovation required. Source link

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[business4u]

A Comprehensive Guide for Filter Replacement Services

Are you a homeowner or business owner in Plano, Texas, concerned about the quality of your indoor air? One of the simplest yet most effective ways to improve indoor air quality is by regularly replacing your air filters. In Plano, TX, residents and businesses can benefit from professional Filter Replacement Services in Plano TX to ensure their HVAC systems run efficiently and their indoor air remains clean and healthy.

Importance of Filter Replacement

Improved Air Quality: Air filters play a crucial role in trapping dust, pollen, pet dander, and other airborne particles, preventing them from circulating throughout your home or business. Regular filter replacement ensures that your indoor air remains clean and free of pollutants, promoting a healthier living or working environment.

Optimal HVAC Performance: Dirty or clogged air filters can restrict airflow and force your HVAC system to work harder to maintain the desired temperature. This not only increases energy consumption but also puts unnecessary strain on your system, leading to premature wear and potential breakdowns. Regular filter replacement helps your HVAC system operate more efficiently, reducing energy costs and extending its lifespan.

Allergy and Asthma Relief: Clean air filters can significantly reduce indoor allergens, such as dust mites, mold spores, and pollen, providing relief for allergy and asthma sufferers. By removing these airborne particles, filter replacement services help create a healthier indoor environment where occupants can breathe more easily and comfortably.

Preventive Maintenance: Regular filter replacement is a form of preventive maintenance that can help identify potential issues with your HVAC system before they escalate into costly repairs. By monitoring the condition of your filters during replacement services, HVAC technicians can detect any signs of wear or damage and address them promptly, ensuring the continued reliability and efficiency of your system, read more: Hinge Kit Install Service in Fort Worth TX

Benefits of Professional Filter Replacement Services in Plano, TX

Expertise and Experience: Professional filter replacement services in Plano, TX, employ trained technicians with extensive experience in HVAC systems. They understand the importance of proper filter selection and installation, ensuring that you receive the right filters for your specific system and needs.

Quality Products: Professional filter replacement services use high-quality air filters that are designed to effectively capture airborne contaminants and improve indoor air quality. They can recommend the most suitable filters for your HVAC system based on factors such as filter size, MERV rating, and filtration efficiency.

Convenient Scheduling: Filter replacement services in Plano, TX, offer convenient scheduling options to accommodate your busy lifestyle or business hours. Whether you prefer regular maintenance appointments or need an emergency filter replacement, professional technicians can work with you to find a time that suits your schedule.

Comprehensive Maintenance: In addition to filter replacement, professional HVAC technicians can perform a thorough inspection of your system during service visits. They can check for any signs of wear or damage, clean critical components, and make recommendations for additional maintenance or repairs as needed, ensuring the continued performance and efficiency of your HVAC system.

How to Get Started

Ready to breathe cleaner air and ensure the optimal performance of your HVAC system with professional filter replacement services in Plano, TX? Here's how to get started:

Research: Take the time to research reputable HVAC companies offering filter replacement services in the Plano area. Look for companies with positive reviews, certifications, and a commitment to customer satisfaction.

Schedule a Service Appointment: Contact a few HVAC companies to schedule a service appointment for filter replacement. During the appointment, discuss your filter needs, indoor air quality concerns, and any other issues you may be experiencing with your HVAC system.

Regular Maintenance Plan: Consider signing up for a regular maintenance plan with your chosen HVAC company to ensure ongoing filter replacement and system maintenance. A maintenance plan can help you stay on top of your HVAC system's needs and prevent potential problems before they arise.

Investing in professional filter replacement services is a simple yet effective way to improve indoor air quality, enhance HVAC performance, and ensure the comfort and well-being of occupants in your home or business in Plano, TX. With expert service and quality products, you can breathe easier knowing that your HVAC system is in good hands. Schedule your filter replacement service today and enjoy cleaner, healthier air year-round.

[pierceconstructionandrepair]

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[mariacallous]

The young rioter surveyed the scene. A bus and a car blazed on O’Connell Bridge while masked groups marauded across the city centre looting shops, attacking police and shooting fireworks, turning the air acrid.

A police helicopter hovered and officers with shields and batons were assembling at the far end of O’Connell Street but the heart of Dublin, for now, belonged to the young man in a black hoodie who started to dance in the glow of the flames.

Comrades cheered as he punched the air and jigged to a soundtrack of breaking glass, shouts and sirens. He held his arms aloft like Rocky and paused, mesmerised by the mayhem. “Beautiful,” he said. “Fuck-ing beautiful.”

For other people in Ireland and elsewhere who saw images of Thursday’s anarchy it was the night Dublin went mad. For participants it was the night the city came to its senses – that here was an overdue venting of rage, a reckoning.

Ireland, according to this narrative, has opened the floodgates to foreigners with no controls or checks, leaving rapists and murderers to prowl the streets, and no one – not the government, not opposition parties, not the media, not the police – is taking it seriously.

So when social media rumours attributed a horrific stabbing attack on three children and a creche worker to a foreigner – Algerian, Moroccan, Romanian, versions varied – groups descended on Parnell Square, the scene of the crime, and decided to unleash chaos.

“People need to fight for this country,” said Samantha, a 27-year-old mother, as masked youths clashed with police attempting to retake Eden Quay along the River Liffey. “I’m not racist; I don’t mind people coming in if they respect Irish people. But the likes of the toerags coming into this country – they’re not vetted and are causing havoc.”

The unfolding scenes, in contrast, were legitimate havoc, a corrective to a political establishment impervious to previous protests over rising numbers of asylum seekers, said Samantha. “When we do things peacefully we get ignored.” She had left her five-year-old at home without dinner in order to join the revolt, she said. “I’m out here fighting for my country. We shouldn’t have to do this.”

Others echoed the refrain: to make Ireland safe, wreck the capital.

“It’s not right but it had to be done. The government is not listening,” said one man in his 20s, a bystander rather than a looter. “This isn’t against foreigners. We were the first emigrants. Immigrants are driving our buses, cleaning our hospitals – we need them. But they need to be vetted.”

Ireland’s demography has been transformed in recent decades as a booming economy reversed the historical flow of emigration. A fifth of the 5 million people now living in Ireland were born elsewhere. A recent increase in refugees from Ukraine and other countries fuelled a backlash amid concern over a housing shortage and straining public services. The number housed by the state jumped from 7,500 in 2021 to 73,000 in 2022.

Amid the destruction on Thursday night there was some linguistic nuance, with “non-national” usually preferred to “foreigner”, and “unvetted” or “unregulated” preferred to “illegal”, and an aversion to the label “far right”.

There was nothing subtle about the targeting of police. Bottles, bricks, fireworks and other missiles rained down on officers, many of whom lacked helmets and shields. The crowd cornered and attacked isolated officers, leaving several injured. Eleven police vehicles were damaged.

Journalists too were unwelcome and photographers had to conceal cameras. “He’s with the Guardian,” a man in his 60s, holding a tricolour, shouted. Younger, hooded men formed an intimidating cluster. The worst sin was to be with RTÉ, the national broadcaster, or the liberal Irish Times, which were accused of cheering the “replacement” of Irish people by new arrivals.

Many onlookers were appalled. “It’s heartbreaking for Dublin, for Ireland, for Europe,” said Matthew Butler, 28. A 53-year-old postman who gave his name only as John expressed fury. “Just a bunch of scumbags out to wreck Dublin city. The gardaí [police] should have free rein to beat the shit out of them.”

On Friday, Leo Varadkar, the taoiseach, said the rioters had shamed themselves and Ireland. “I want to say to a nation that is unsettled and afraid: this is not who we are – this is not who we want to be – and this is not who we will ever be.” The Garda commissioner, Drew Harris, blamed the disturbances on a “lunatic, hooligan faction driven by far-right ideology”.

The mob had diverse motives. Some belonged to fringe political groups and were veterans of protests against refugee centres. Some were opportunistic gangs that seized the chance to loot sportswear and alcohol. Others came for the spectacle and the chance to post dramatic footage on social media.

All, however, scorned the idea that Ireland is a safe, stable society. The economy is at full employment and the state is flush with tax revenue but their social media feeds depict a country overrun with “non-native” predators such as Jozef Puska, a Slovak man convicted earlier this month of murdering a teacher, Ashling Murphy, in 2022. As the night wore on, an unfounded rumour spread that one of the children in the Parnell Square attack had died.

It did not seem to matter that one of the people who stopped that attack was a Brazilian Deliveroo rider, Caio Benicio, and that Dublin gangs have assaulted numerous South American couriers in recent years.

Chilling threats of assaults against immigrants were made on a WhatsApp group titled “enough is enough”. “Everyone bally [balaclava] up, tool up,” said one man. “Let’s show the fucking media that we’re not a fucking pushover, that no more fucking foreigners are allowed into this poxy country.”

However, the mob targeted property and police rather than foreign and non-white bystanders, who watched in bewilderment.

As police gradually regained control James, a 33-year-old labourer, confronted a phalanx of shields on Burgh Quay, drawing cheers from others who hurled missiles. After being sprayed in the face, James staggered back to Butt Bridge where a Brazilian man, who had experience of being teargassed in his home country, offered recovery tips.

James thanked him but in an interview said “unregulated” arrivals were ruining Ireland. “We’re rammed to the gills with foreigners doing mad shit. You can’t do this to Irish people. I’m getting out of this country, I’m burning rubber. It’s not safe to walk around here.”

Mohammed Gaber, 27, an accountant who moved to Ireland from Sudan and is now an Irish citizen, came into the city centre to check on his sister, Ebba. He lauded his adopted home but worried about what the riot might augur. “Irish people are so welcoming. I’ve never experienced any discrimination. But this is crazy. This is the first time that I feel that there is something big.”

With roads sealed off and smoke pluming over Dublin, Ebba, 33, was blunter. “This is terrifying.” She was not sure of reaching her job as an emergency doctor at a police station.

[iamprchung]

The Spider and the FBI: Part 2 "Upon the Axle Tree"

Mulder races across the country to reunite with Scully and Skinner, all targeted by vengeful mob hitmen. The chase intensifies as the trio struggles with communication breakdowns and a manipulative prisoner who exploits the simmering tension between Scully and Skinner. Exhausted and seeking refuge in a secluded motel, a heated confrontation erupts, forcing Scully and Skinner to face their long-suppressed emotions that ignite a spark. Now, amidst the chaos and danger, Scully, and Skinner must not only outrun pursuers but also navigate the complexities of their brewing emotional entanglement.

"...Upon the Axle-Tree" Part II of "The Spider and the FBI"

by PR Chung

I-84 Sweetwater County, Wyoming Thursday, July 1st 5:48 p.m.

"The cellular customer..."

"You are trying to reach," Scully finished the message now emblazoned in her memory as she terminated her umpteenth attempt to contact Mulder. "Yadda, yadda, yadda," she scoffed, putting the phone down.

Skinner glanced at her, frowning at her uncharacteristic tone.

"Still no luck contacting your partner," Bernstein said from the back seat.

Scully didn't respond and tried to concentrate on adjusting the air vents then her seat belt and the slight twist that had developed in it.

Skinner flicked his eyes to the rear-view mirror, seeing Bernstein half-smiling as he nodded to himself.

"You're concerned," the man said, "of course you are. So far away from him."

He was quiet then, watching the scenery go by with a pained expression.

"Absence," he finally said with a long, dramatic pause. "Absence, it does make the heart grow fonder, you know, Agent Scully."

Eyes forward, jaw clinched, she refused to respond.

"In today's world it's hard to believe that, when travel is so readily available, bringing the once forlorn together. Perhaps that's why so many relationships fail. Odd, isn't it? But to desire something is always so much more interesting, satisfying even, than actually having it."

"Is there a problem, Bernstein?" Skinner questioned the man.

He looked thoughtful. "No, I don't believe so. Is there?"

"It seems like you have a problem keeping your nose out of other people's business."

"Well, how observant," he retorted leaning slightly forward. "Now isn't that why we're all here, because I stuck my nose into other people's business?"

"We're here because you embezzled from the wrong people."

"Are there right people to embezzle from?" He countered. "Don't you see that I'm like the Robin Hood of the underworld."

"And John Gotti's the Sheriff of Nottingham?" Skinner came back.

"What a stale reference, I'm shocked," Bernstein mocked surprise taking out his bottle of eye drops to toy with the cap. "I would have expected something less mainstream from the Assistant Director, that is your title, isn't it?"

"I hope you're prepared to talk this much on the witness stand, Bernstein."

"The FBI sat upon the axle tree of the chariot... what a dust I stir, they say..." Berstein muttered to himself.

"Is there something you want to share with the rest of us?" Skinner questioned the man.

"I need to get out of this car." He said, petulant.

Skinner started to protest but Scully spoke first.

Leaning her head against the seat, she rolled it restlessly, saying, "so do I. There was a sign for a rest stop back on the road a mile or so, let's pull over at it for a moment."

************************************

"The cellular customer..."

Scully put the phone down, warn by trying to reach Mulder. Surly it was the service area, she thought, glancing around at the terrain. Mountains and hills, and wide expansive of nothingness, where cell towers were sparce. Yes, certainly it was just the service, she told herself and forced her attention toward the rest stop restrooms.

It was beginning to feel like Skinner and Bernstein had been gone a long time. Hopefully, Bernstein wasn’t turning a simple trip to the bathroom into a holy nightmare for Skinner. She was all too familiar with the man’s ability to twist every situation into an opportunity to spew his poorly disguised psychological manipulation.

She certainly wasn’t going take the quiet for granted. Maybe they had been gone for what seemed like a long time now… but it was a much-needed break from Bernstein’s constant needling commentary. She was grateful for Skinner running interference, recognizing the man’s schtick and not letting it get to him, and he was doing what he could to keep Bernstein from getting to her as well.

Scully was grateful, but she couldn’t help but reconsider Skinner’s motivations for inserting himself into this assignment.

She'd known him long enough to understand his attitude of getting things done right by doing them himself, especially when it came to situations such as the one with Bernstein. But still, after everything that had happened over the last eight months, the close calls to overstepping their boundaries, he shouldn't have come. He should have sent someone else... or should he have? Why should he alter any actions he would have normally taken? What indications did she have to determine his arrival as anything more than a strictly professional gesture of caution and concern other than her laughable presumptions of his interest in her?

She straightened in the seat rigidly, her initial excitement passed, replaced by unclassifiable animosity. There was no escaping the inability to understand where the man stood, on either a professional or personal level. It was so aggravating that she could just-

The cell phone rang beside her, and she jumped.

"Damn it," she cursed both the phone and herself. "Scully," she answered the call, huffy.

"I miss you, too," Mulder's sarcastic voice came back at her, "Bernstein getting to you?"

"Uh," hesitating, she caught sight of Skinner and Bernstein approaching the car. "Something like that," she replied and quickly shifted the subject not wanting to lie any more than necessary, "where have you been, I've been trying to call you for the last hour and a half, Mulder?"

"Sorry, I just got one of the less popular call blocking features on my cell phone about two hours ago- At least I think it was two hours ago... my watch has stopped."

"What are you talking about?"

"I had the Corleone twins waiting for me at the motel room when I got back from the doctor this afternoon," he explained, "and my cell phone got caught in the crossfire."

"Are you all right?"

"Sore, but otherwise fine, no leaks."

"Who were they, and how did they find you?" she questioned as she got out of the car, meeting Skinner as he approached.

"One got away, the other is in the hospital right now having a bullet taken out his shoulder. He wouldn't talk, but I should have something back on him soon, I sent his picture and prints in before I called you."

"How could they have known where we stayed?" Her question piqued Skinner's curiosity as well as Bernstein's.

"Who?" Bernstein questioned nervously, getting no response from either of his keepers.

"Tit for tat, Scully," Mulder offered his opinion, "they've got their sources the same as the Bureau. Judging by the time it took them to get here, I imagine your call to Skinner this morning clued them in to our location. But they didn't know you were leaving, somewhere their information got screwed up."

"What happened?" Skinner asked her while making Bernstein get in the car.

"Mulder had a run in with two men at the motel we stayed in last night," she answered him briefly.

"Scully, who was that?" Mulder asked, but before his partner could answer, he cranked out more questions, "was that Skinner? What's he's doing there?"

"There were no Agents available from the Denver office-"

"None?" He exclaimed.

"Mulder," she mirrored his tone, "no, there weren't."

"No wonder I couldn't reach him in his office." Mulder replied after a moment then gave her the description of the man who escaped him, as well as the car, but he would undoubtedly replace it with another vehicle. The state police were alerted and now she and Skinner. It was only a matter of taking all precautions possible now to avoid their location being discovered once again.

"I can't go back to D.C. after this, I want to join back up with you and Skinner..."

"No," she told him abruptly, "we can't risk you leading them to us."

Skinner's eyes narrowed when he heard this.

"You need back up, Scully."

"At this point Mulder we may be best left alone."

Reluctantly, and not altogether convinced, Mulder agreed and let her go knowing full well there were more than enough ways to pinpoint a person using a cell phone, even in the middle of nowhere.

"Did Bernstein make any calls while you were in the room?" Skinner asked her, keen to the situation by just her end of the conversation with Mulder.

"No," she shook her head.

He took a deep breath, pushing the folds of his jacket back to plant his hands on his hips. "Did either you or Mulder make calls out from the room phone?"

"No, when I called you, I used my cell phone."

He searched the interstate, his jaw grinding some consideration.

"How ever they found out," he finally said and turned, going around the car to the driver's side door, "it's going to be hard for them to do it again as long we keep moving."

*******************************

Chugwater, Wyoming 10:46 p.m.

It may have been a quarter of eleven for Wyoming, but Skinner's internal clock was still running on East coast time; his head throbbed, his eyes hurt, and his back was stiff. He was far from being a lightweight when it came to going without sleep, but he'd been going steady since 6:00 a.m. and nearly seven hours of his day had been spent behind the wheel of a car, not to mention the two-hour flight into Cheyenne, then another forty-five minutes into the Rock Springs municipal airport.

He was exhausted he reluctantly admitted to himself pulling into the Chugwater Inn parking lot. He had wanted to keep going, driving through the night, sharing shifts at the wheel with Scully, but she was in no shape to drive.

Despite the fact that he had done all the driving since meeting up with her, she'd gotten no rest.

He looked at her in the seat next to him; head tilted toward him and against the seat back, her eyelids fluttering slightly. She had been trying to sleep, but just couldn't seem to settle in. And it seemed as though every time she did drift into any type of deep rest Bernstein had made another request to stop.

Skinner glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing that the man had stretched out on the back seat and appeared to be sleeping quite contentedly. Too contentedly, giving Skinner the gut feeling that there was something in the works with this guy, even in his sleep.

Skinner turned his attention back to finding a parking space, which wouldn't be hard; there were only a couple of cars in the motel's small parking lot. The lack of guests wasn't surprising; the place was far from the interstate, yet appeared to offer all the luxuries that a motel along the interstate might. There was a small diner attached to one of the three one story buildings and an even smaller gated pool set at the center of the U-shaped arrangement.

He eased the car to a gentle halt, cutting the engine off as he gave the place a serious scrutinizing before turning to wake Scully.

This time he hesitated to look at her, amazed again by how easily he was touched and with suddenness that was both overwhelming and infuriating. His ability to control these unexpected surges of acute desire, brought about by the most obscure of circumstances- the certain way light played upon her features, an idiosyncrasy of a turn, a step, a smile or glance, the inflection or particular cadence given to a word or phrase, had substantially diminished... but was not completely gone.

Looking away he took a deep breath, clearing his mind a moment before turning back to wake her.

"Scully," he quietly said touching her arm with deliberate indifference.

She lifted her chin, glancing around.

"Where is this?"

"Chugwater," Skinner answered pulling the keys from the ignition.

She frowned briefly, glancing around behind them, toward the road. "I don't remember Chugwater on I-84, are we still in Wyoming?"

"Yes, just northeast of Laramie. I decided that we should get off the interstate, at least for the night."

Wise idea, Scully agreed. If they were being followed staying off the main drag was their best course of action. "We're on route 34 if you want to look at the map to get your bearings."

She nodded but didn't bother to reach for the map, she would look later, and right now she just wanted a decent meal and some sleep.

"I'll get us rooms," Skinner told her opening the door to get out, "why don't you get us a table in the diner?"

She got out and started to open Bernstein's door to take him with her, but Skinner stopped her.

"I'll take him with me, Scully." He told her.

Again, probably for the best, she appreciatively thought. If Bernstein made a break for it, she couldn't guarantee her ability to stop him. As tired as she was her senses were dull and her reaction time was undoubtedly a fraction of the norm.

Skinner rapped his knuckles on the rear window before opening the back door, Bernstein sat up abruptly, looking disoriented. But despite his apparent disorientation Skinner suspected that the man had been awake and eavesdropping the whole time.

***********************************

The diner was small with a long counter and booths running the length of the front windows. There was only one customer other than Scully, a man in jeans and a plaid short sleeved shirt sitting at the counter, smoking cigarettes, and talking to the cook who was resting casually on his folded arms at the counter, obviously taking advantage of the lull in business.

Seeing her enter the cook straightened up and nodded to her. "Evening, miss."

The customer turned halfway looking over his shoulder, then fully turned to get a better look and deliver his own greeting as well. "Evening."

She returned the greetings and slipped into a booth facing the entrance, exhausted and suddenly wondering if she even had the energy to eat. Looking around she noticed the mishmash of red, white, and blue decorations strung across the establishment in a careless sort of way. Looking at the decorations she realized with surprise that Independence Day was rapidly approaching, not that she had had any plans for the holiday, she rarely did, but just the fact that she had forgotten it surprised her.

The cook came around the counter to her booth.

"Can I get you some coffee, hon?" He asked handing her a menu that doubled as a place mat.

"No, just water and two more menus, please."

"So, you're not traveling alone then, huh?"

She looked at the man a second, processing the question. "No, I'm not."

He nodded grabbing a couple more menus from the counter. "Glad to hear it, I didn't think a pretty young woman like you should be out here all alone."

Scully controlled the impulse to roll her eyes, but barely. She pursed her lips and nodded, thanking him politely catching sight of Skinner heading down the drive with Bernstein from the office.

"You're dressed awful nice to be traveling," the customer at the counter called over to her. He had turned his seat to face her booth. "There is a convention around here or something?"

She regarded him a moment, noting the deep creases in the back of his shirt and the lap of his jeans created by prolonged periods of sitting, and concluded that the semi parked out on the road in front of the motel belonged to him.

"No, there isn't." She replied and Skinner came through the door, Bernstein in tow.

The man at the counter took one look at him and swiveled his chair back around to face the kitchen.

"Evening," the cook greeted him after a moment of sizing him up.

Skinner nodded and ushered Bernstein into the booth ahead of him, up next to the window, then slumped into the seat opposite Scully brushing her legs with his own.

"Excuse me."

"Hmm?" She said having hardly noticed.

Bringing Scully's water, the cook came back to the table. "Can I get you fellas something to drink?"

Skinner glanced at the water glass. "I'll have water also."

"So will I," said Bernstein, then in his usual eccentric way added, "but with a twist of lime in it, please."

The cook looked at him. "Lime?"

"Yes, a twist will do."

The man frowned. "You want me to squeeze some lime juice in your water?"

Bernstein shook his head. "No, a twist. You know," he said bringing his cuffed hand up to wriggle his fingers, "a twist."

Skinner pulled his arm back down. "Plain water will do." He told the cook.

"Well, I think I got some lemons back there, but I don't know about limes." He informed them tilting his head to check out the situation with the handcuffs.

"That will work." Bernstein agreed pulling his eye drops out.

"Hey, uh," the man said gesturing toward their cuffed hands, "what's this?"

"We're transporting a prisoner." Skinner answered gruffly.

"I'm the prisoner." Bernstein grinned.

Scully was already digging for her identification.

"You two marshals?" The cook persisted.

"No," Scully said pulling her ID out, but Skinner had been quicker.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation," he said holding open his badge case for the man to look at.

The cook bent forward squinting at the badge and identification card.

"Hey, can I see that?" The man at the counter called jumping off his seat to come over. "I never seen one of those things close up for real."

Skinner flipped the case shut and pocketed it before the man could cross the short distance between the counter and booth, in no mood to deal with this nonsense.

"So, you're a lady FBI Agent, huh?" The cook asked Scully with a cockeyed grin.

"Yes." She said and sighed. "I am."

"Wha’d, you do, fella?" The cook asked Bernstein.

Even Bernstein was beginning to look irritated now.

"It's very involved," he answered beginning to fidget the eye drops bottle cap.

"Could we get our water?" Skinner asked the man laboring to maintain an even tone.

"Oh, yeah," the cook said sounding surprised and as though he had forgotten. "Sorry about that. I'll be right back."

The man was gone, and Skinner was glad, he didn't like the way he had been eyeing Scully. He wasn't a man easily taken to jealousy, but this wasn't matter of jealousy but rather a matter of common decency. Both the cook and the guy at the counter had been leering at her since he'd come through the door.

He looked across the table at her, considering for a fraction of a second brushing her legs again with his to get her attention, hoping to communicate how tired he was and to find that she was just as tired, noticing his silent plea to forget eating and go to the rooms.

As though reading his mind she looked over the rim of her water glass, meeting his gaze. There was hardness in her eyes, tension pulling at the corners, but there was still some measure of loveliness Skinner found in those blue pools.

"Rooms?" She asked him, putting her glass down, her voice growing hoarse.

"Yes," he pulled two keys from his pocket, looking at them for a moment before he put one on the table in front of her.

"They're adjacent to each other," Bernstein told her smirking.

She flicked her brow and pursed her mouth briefly. "Okay, well I'm starting to reconsider exactly how hungry I am." She said taking up the key.

"So was I." Skinner replied taking his glasses off a moment to rub at the bridge of his nose. Surprisingly, there was no protest from Bernstein. Perhaps he too was just as exhausted as they were. "Are you hungry?" Skinner asked him outright.

He shook his head. "No,” he answered, sounding genuinely tired. “I am thirsty, though."

Skinner nodded. "Drink your water and we'll go."

"I think I'm going now," Scully said and started to get up. She hesitated, waiting for protest or approval. There was neither. "All right, then," she stood looking at the key, "number 18."

Skinner glanced over his shoulder at the deserted parking lot, catching once again the trucker watching Scully. "It's the far building." He told her, turning back.

"I'll need my bag," she said, and he handed her the car keys. "I'll move the car in front of the rooms."

He almost told her to be careful but held his tongue and just kept an eye on her as she went, watching her reflection in the far window of the diner.

"Are you worried?" He heard Bernstein ask. Skinner glanced at the man who was watching him closely. "What could happen to her?"

Skinner turned his eyes straight ahead, grinding his jaw. "You always watch your partner's back."

"And what a lovely back it is," Bernstein murmured looking down at the eye drop bottle in his hand.

Skinner started to speak but stopped, looking at the eye drops. He'd seen Bernstein fidgeting with them all day but never use them, and then something he'd overheard once in a bar came back to him; a conversation between two bartenders when they thought no one could hear.

"Why don't you let me give these to Agent Scully," Skinner said taking the bottle suddenly and swiftly from Bernstein. "She's a medical doctor and should be in charge of administering pharmaceuticals."

"But those are just eye drops." Bernstein protested urgently.

"Exactly, so you won't be in immediate need of them, will you?"

The cook appeared at the table setting water glasses in front of Skinner and Bernstein, one with- shockingly- a twisted lime peel in it.

"Uh, well, very nice," Bernstein seemed torn between wanting to reclaim his eye drops and approve of the water. "Excellent service, yes."

"That the way you wanted it?" The cook asked appearing concerned.

"Yes. Yes, just perfect."

The cook nodded glancing around. "Where'd your little FBI lady go?"

* "Sweet dream baby, sweet dream baby, sweet dream baby... How long must I dream?" *

From the jukebox, the smooth crooning of Roy Orbison began to play through the diner as Skinner straightened in the booth, bristling at the cook’s choice of words. "Agent Scully." He corrected the cook, his tone saturated with exasperation.

"Like Vin Scully?" The truck driver asked from the jukebox.

"I suppose." Skinner answered tucking the eye drops into his pocket.

* "Dream baby got me dreaming sweet dreams the whole day through. Dream baby got me dreaming sweet dreams in the nighttime, too." *

"I sure wouldn't mind being her prisoner, if you don't mind me saying." The truck driver said returning to his seat at the counter.

* "...dream baby make me stop my dreaming, you can make my dreams come true..." *

"I swear," the cook declared shaking his head as he walked back behind the counter, "there's just something about those red heads, boy."

"Mmm, hmm," the trucker agreed. "Spitfires, every one of them I've ever met." He turned to Skinner, asking, "I bet she's one, id'nt she?"

Skinner ground his teeth on shapeless curses standing up out of the booth dragging Bernstein along like a rag doll, causing the man to spill water down his shirt.

"You're talking about a federal Agent," he rebuked their seemingly innocuous comments, "deserving of a hell of a lot more respect than you're displaying right now."

"Huh?" The cook looked surprised almost scared.

"I didn't mean any harm." The trucker defended himself.

"We were just talking in general, don't get all bent out of shape now."

Ignoring the cook, Skinner hauled Bernstein out the door and the man had to jog a bit to keep up with him as he marched across the parking lot.

"They said they didn't mean any harm," he told Skinner. When there was no response, he added. "Okay, I take it that you noticed the staring. Well, you can't blame them, she is really very attractive."

"Put a lid on it, Bernstein." Skinner warned him, pulling the room key out.

"Please," Bernstein continued insolently. "Someone doesn't conform to your ridged tenets, and you just tell them to shut up? Come on, you can't say you don't recognize how engaging a woman Agent Scully is. A man would have to be blind not to see..."

At the motel room door Skinner stopped and turned to glare at Bernstein. "I respect her. I respect her decency and capability as a federal Agent. She deserves more than to be considered a pretty face."

"I don't think it was just her face they were looking at." Skinner glared at him, and Bernstein looked back at him a moment, something fiendish growing in his eyes. "This has nothing to do with respect," he finally said smirking.

Skinner squared his jaw. "I know your game, Bernstein. You examine and test all the angles, if you can't pit one against the other, you create suspicion, invent jealousy, or provoke confusion. I've dealt with better than two-bit mob bookies like you, and she's dealt with better. So don't play me because I'll kick your ass in the end."

Bernstein looked at him, unruffled. "This has nothing at all to do with respect."

Reticent, Skinner turned and unlocked the door, shoving Bernstein inside the room.

***********************************

Despite knowing she'd be woken for the car keys, Scully drifted asleep atop the bedspread. Exhaustion had won. Her mind tumbled into dreams, fueled by random sounds: a truck, a dog, then voices. One, new. The other, familiar - deep, forceful, oddly soothing. Even with its unappealing qualities, the voice drew her in, murmuring needs.

"Scully?"

Her body reacted to the sound of her name on his lips, twisting with fine craving... If only he knew his power over her.

"Scully!"

She sat up abruptly, the demanding shout jerking her out of sleep. Disorientated, she went to the door, and opened it—Finding no one outside. Confused, she learned out, looking up and down the walk. “Sir?”

"Scully, wake up!" Skinner's muffled voice came again followed by a harsh pounding. She turned toward the sound seeing the door that joined the two rooms. “Great,” she muttered and started across the room.

"Just a minute," she called fumbling the dead bolt to open the door. “Sir, I—” Once again, there was no Skinner, only Bernstein looking back at her from where he was comfortably perched on one of the two beds in the room.

“Lose something, agent?” he asked with a smirk.

“What…?”

“Scully, what are you thinking?” Skinner asked suddenly from behind her, coming through the front door of the room she’d left standing open. “Leaving the door open like that?”

She turned to him, taken off guard and dazed. “I thought you were outside, then I…”

“You need to be more careful.” He grumbled, looking around the room.

“I am, I was just confused by all the yelling and banging.”

“Fine,” he dismissed her explanation. "I need the car keys."

“Okay then,” she huffed, aggravation rising quickly with his abrupt dismissal. Snatching the keys off the dresser she all but threw them at him. "Here," she snapped back mirroring his brisk tone.

He looked at the keys then her, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"What the hell's wrong with you? You come storming in here barking at me without cause—”

“The door was standing open, Scull—”

“I didn’t know if something was wrong the way you were yelling and banging at the door—”

“I wasn’t yelling or banging at the door—"

"Everything okay in there with you two?" Bernstein called through the open door from the next room.

"No!" Scully and Skinner shouted in unison only to realize their mistake.

“Y-yes.” They staggered to correct themselves.

“Get some rest, Scully.” Skinner grunted, turning to leave the room, pulling the door solidly shut behind him.

Scully glared after him. Contention was their standard of operation, but this had been one of the most pointless arguments they had ever had. Pointless, and telling; they were exhausted, taxed beyond norms, and to anyone paying attention, they were both suppressing a multitude of underlying feelings.

Unfortunately, some was paying attention.

“You know,” Bernstein began from the other room, “the two of you really need to—”

*************************

The Ranch Inn Frontier, Wyoming 11:37 p.m.

Evicted from the Pink Cloud over the shooting, Mulder sat in the corner of his new motel room under the amber glow of a hanging lamp, a report spread across the table in front of him. He poured over the information that had been faxed to him at the local police station from Washington, seeing that now, no matter what the circumstances, Skinner and Scully needed back up.

Steven "Sharkie" Machenko was well known among the law enforcement community; a former Pittsburgh police officer discharged from the department for misconduct, he moved on to a full-time position with those he'd been helping while still a police officer. Aside from his inside knowledge of police work, Machenko also seemed to have a special skill for 'dislocating' people - he was wanted in connection with four disappearances in three states.

Sharkie would be getting a lot of visitors to his hospital room soon enough, Mulder mused turning his attention to the next piece of faxed information; a list of those believed to associate with the man. The pictures were distorted from the facsimile transmittal, but he could make out faces well enough to recognize one as the man who got away at the Pink Cloud motel.

Lawrence Martin Gryzwac was also well known among law enforcement agencies. He had been connected to numerous Mafia lieutenants, as well as a sundry of crimes that ranged from prostitution to gambling, and murder, but never prosecuted due to either insufficient evidence or the unwillingness of witnesses to testify, or worst yet, their disappearances.

Mulder cursed letting him slip away.

He started to check his watch before remembering it had stopped running after the fray at the Pink Cloud. Checking the digital clock beside the bed he reached for his cell phone before remembering it had given its life to save his earlier that day. Damn, what else is going to get broke, his thoughts going to the motel room phone and dialing Scully's number.

"...The cellular customer you are trying to reach has traveled beyond..." Mulder cut the standard message off, dialing Skinner's cell phone number.

The number rang a couple of times then, "Skin-"

Mulder opened his mouth to speak before he realized Skinner's voice had been cut off. He re-dialed.

"...The cellular customer you are trying to reach has traveled beyond the service area or is unable to answer your call. Please try your call again." Mulder ended the call, pouting at the phone thoughtfully a moment before getting up to gather his things into his travel bag.

He didn't figure Gryzwac for the type to let driving all night stop him from finding someone, and Mulder wasn't that type either.

If he drove all night along I-84 he could catch up to them at some point, he thought studying the faxed report once more before packing in his bag. Or pass them up completely. In any case he would be closer than he was now to help.

****************************************

"Damnit," Skinner mouthed a curse, pressing the keypad on his cell phone with more force than its operation warranted. The battery had discharged during the course of the day and apparently all it took was a few rings to completely drain it.

He suspected it could be Mulder calling. Had he tried to call Scully? He hadn't heard a phone other than his own, and he believed he would have heard anything through these walls judging by the sounds he could hear from the next room over. Thankfully, Bernstein had fallen asleep before the mewing and ohing had begun or surely, he would have kept his mouth running all night about it.

Skinner sat in the dark, facing the window and listening to Bernstein stirring in the next bed. He figured if the phone ringing hadn't woken him, fumbling around in the dark for his phone charger wouldn't either. No matter, he needed to charge the phone.

After a series of misadventures trying to find a free outlet, Skinner settled back into bed, waiting for the phone to charge.

Laying there, too tired to sleep, he stared into the dark no differently than before the phone had rung. He listened to the sound of Bernstein's light snore and heard what sounded like thunder in the distance. Counting seconds between the distant rumbles, Skinner heard the a door open.  It was Scully's room.

Without hesitation, he was up and at the window, obscured by the heavy curtains. There she was crossing the parking lot her gate determined, in sock feet and wearing a dark tee shirt and shorts.

He followed her path glancing ahead at the building where she was evidently headed. There, next to the office was a bank of vending machines. I should have known, he mused watching her become silhouetted in the glow of the soda machine lights.

"Next time you go to the vending room, Agent Scully, try to dress more appropriately." His words came back to him, images following with absolute clarity.

Months ago, he had turned his back to her, his eyes searching the hotel hallway for both others who might amble upon the embarrassing scene, and simply look away, to preoccupy himself. He studied the wallpaper design then scrutinized the light fixture which needed good cleaning, from there he glanced at the fire hose case directly across the hall from him. The first reflection he had caught was of himself-- then Scully. He meant to turn away but couldn't, he was frozen, his eyes locked on her bare reflection. Chagrin and guilt gripped him, swelled in his throat, but fascination firmly fixed his eyes on her and the elegance of her movements in that absurd moment.

Skinner shut his eyes, laboring to exercise the memory, but only more came to him.

It was dark out there on that rock in the middle of the lake but there was enough light that he could see the appealing curve of her neck and the damp hair clinging to it. And when she leaned forward the move gave a certain extra hike to the already short hem of her dress and threatened to expose every last inch of her thighs.

He nearly jumped back from the window when he realized she'd turned and was starting back across the parking lot. She was an observant person no matter how fatigued she might be, and he knew if he moved, she would catch sight of the curtains shifting.

He watched her pass holding his breath until he heard the door to her room shut and lock. Stepping back from the window he released his breath, feeling guilt-ridden.

"Did she catch you?" Bernstein's voice came out of the dark unexpectedly and Skinner did jump.

He didn't say anything getting back into bed.

"Just watching your partner's back, huh?"

"Go back to sleep, Bernstein." Skinner grumbled.

"Well, I was asleep until all this heavy breathing woke me up."

Skinner opened his mouth and shut it quickly. The only breathing Bernstein needed to worry about was his own and if it's possible to do it through the pillow he was ready to smother him with if he didn’t shut up.

***********************************

Twin Star Drive in Theater Outside Tokey, Wyoming 11:58 p.m.

Under a pitch-black diamond studded curtain of night, the peaceful, rhythmical sound of crickets was shattered by the sound of gunfire and a police scanner. Muzzle flashes broke the dark, illuminating objects in brief strobe light-like effects- brush, car hood, brooks brother collarless shirt.

Picking off kangaroo mice scurrying in front of the deteriorating outdoor movie screen, Lawrence Martin Gryzwac sat perched on the hood of the 1976 Caddie he'd picked up at a car lot in Prince Town off route 6, listening to the police scanner he had transferred from the Seville he and Sharkie had been traveling in and that he had had to ditch thanks to the smart-ass FBI Agent.

He squeezed off the last two rounds in his nine-millimeter at scurrying shadows. A squeal sounded somewhere near the rusted, leaning remains of a swing set in a long-abandoned playground.

Gryzwac smiled to himself, humming 'Three Blind Mice.'

Smart-ass FBI pretty boy, he thought while exchanging the empty clip for a full one. Won't have such a smart mouth once he gets it blown right off that face of his. He squeezed off another round into the shadows, the scurrying creatures playing effigy to the federal government.

The muffled twitter of his cell phone sounded from inside the car prompting him off the hood and to the front seat. Turning down the scanner he answered the phone, "yeah?"

He listened for a moment, then, "why the fuck doesn't anyone know where they are? They haven't checked in yet, oh, well that explains it, perfectly fuckin' clear. I'm telling you now, you get her to find out where they are and you call me right fuckin' then, Frank. You hear me? Or I'll come to Washington and break the freakin' bitch's neck myself."

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Coming soon Part 3