Sooo, I guess my heartfelt apologies are in order. I did fully intend to update this ages ago, and I am so blown away by all your support, I just haven't had access to a working laptop in what feels like forever! I did get my old one fixed so hopefully chapters will be coming out on a more regular basis now.

This chapter is dedicated to HobbitFan for both of your wonderful reviews, they really made me smile.

She had been on middle earth for ten days. Ten confusing, tear-filled days. The first few days she had missed her family, her friends, her home so much that no amount of false bravado could prevent her tears. As time passed though she was getting better at handling the separation, and her habit of bursting into tears whenever Bilbo mentioned her home had slowly abated. However she missed him turning into a floundering mess so much, and as it was actually a good way to stop Bilbo questioning her pathetically weak lie she found herself purposefully crying the last few times he slipped up and mentioned it. She was so smart sometimes.

Currently she was standing in Bilbo's bedroom, eyes scrunched up, one hand on her chest and the other holding a fluffy green duster to the face as she sang her little heart out into it,

"…I tried to show you just how much I care," Eyes still closed she swept the duster down across the empty strip of Bilbo's bookshelf, "I'm tired of words and I'm to hoarse to shout, but you've been cold to me so long I'm crying icicles instead of tears!" She continued the song as she swept around the room, dusting as she went. Of course she made doubly sure the house was empty before she began her outstanding solo performance. Of the many skills and talents she possessed, singing wasn't one of them, or so she'd been told in primary school when she was the only child not to get into the choir. The only one. Like every other child in the entire school got in, except her.

Well fuck Mr Evans and his perfect little school choir anyway, she didn't even care. She was the only person worthy enough to hear her beautiful voice anyway, and she had to say, it sounded like there were angels in the room.

Eliza ducked down and threw the ridiculously fluffy duster under Bilbo's bed, before leaving the room. She'd developed a habit of using Bilbo's stuff and then throwing it in random locations; firstly, because the other hobbit was a hoarder and seemed to own all the belongings of all his ancestors that ever lived, and secondly, because she thought it was funny to watch his baffled expression when he went to get something that wasn't there.

She trudged into the kitchen, yawning widely and stretching her arms above her head, barely registering the sound of the front door opening and closing; another benefit of her slightly pointed hobbit ears, other than looking completely badass, was her increased hearing. Before her unexpected journey to Middle Earth, Eliza had been one of those people who was constantly asking people to repeat themselves, maybe it was because of her fondness for turning her ipod up high, maybe not, but she lived by the rule where you could only ask someone to repeat themselves twice before you had to just guess what they said. Well that was a thing of the past, her hearing had never been better.

The shaggy mob of brown hair belonging to her house mate popped around the corner, scaring the shit out of her. Her hearing may have improved but Hobbits could be sneaky when they wanted.

Minor heart attack aside, she had to admit that he was looking rather dapper; brown trousers, white shirt and a yellow waistcoat which had a golden swirly pattern on the front. Most girls had a thing for tuxes; she had a thing for waistcoats.

"Miss Underhill," he greeted her from the doorway, nodding politely.

"Mr Baggins," she returned sheepishly, after she abruptly stopped yawning like a lion as she had a tendency to do when alone.

"Done for the day?" Bilbo asked her absentmindedly as he crossed the room and grabbed the kettle.

"Yup," she replied, graceful as ever as she pulled a chair out from the table and plopped herself down, content to watch him make tea. "I've brushed floors, dusted bookshelves and cleaned the hearths." She was like a regular old Oliver Twist.

"Yes, yes, that's wonderful." He replied distractedly, bringing two cups down from their place on the shelf.

"I wouldn't exactly call it wonderful," she said slowly, leaning cautiously on the left hand side of the table to try and see his face; he had his thinking/worrying face on; his brow was crinkled and his chocolate coloured eyes were staring off into space. "But I pulled what I think was once a bird out of the chimney in the sitting room, so the house no longer smells like ass." And the house had most definetly smelled like ass the last two days; when she realised it was coming from the sitting room she had just closed the door, hoping that Bilbo would man up and deal with it first. "You're welcome."

She leaned back in her chair, hands folded together in her lap, waiting for her praise. Of course Bilbo would be less willing to thank her when he found out that her removing the bird consisted with her rolling the mangled corpse into one of his pillow cases with the end of her broom, and then tossing said pillow case over one of his neighbours hedges before running away.

"That was very brave of you," he told her handing her a cup of tea.

What did he think she said? The bird was already fucking dead, she didn't actually have to fight it or anything.

She accepted it with a confused smile, taking a sip of the warm sugary liquid whilst Bilbo sat down with his own cup directly across from her. She watched him sipping at his own drink, his eyes staring distractedly at the table. They sat that way for a few long moments before Eliza broke the silence.

"Bilbo," she began, one hand resting on her warm cup, the other pressed to her chest. She was staring into his eyes now that he was paying attention; making sure he held her gaze. "I would like to think we're friends by now, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I-I would consider us such." He held her gaze as best he could, all the while looking slightly intimidated.

She had that effect on people.

"Well as your friend, I would like to help carry your burdens," she brought the hand on her chest down to rest on Bilbos own free hand, causing the Hobbit to jump. She hid her smirk, trying to keep up the mock serious face she had on. "Your problems are my problems."

"It's just a minor dispute, it's nothing that won't resolve itself in time." She noticed that he said it all whilst staring at her hand on his. She retracted hers slowly, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.

"Bilbo."

He let out a reluctant sigh and wrapped his now free hand around his tea. Eliza did the same, and took another sip.

"I may have placed an order several days ago with Ms Burrows, for items to be made with a certain material which had to be delivered from Bree. My order came today, but it seems that Mrs Danderflower placed an order for the same material yesterday and has taken my order for her own," He took a small sip of tea, staring down at the table, while Eliza stared at him with building indignation. "I-I'll just wait a few days for the next delivery, it's the gentlemanly thing to do."

Well fuck that.

No one made Bilbo Baggins look like someone sparta kicked his puppy. No one. Yeah, he was a rude Bastard some of the time, but it was never on purpose. He was a good guy; he tried to be polite when he could, and hell, he even let a complete stranger share his home cause she had nowhere else to go.

Danderflower bitch was goin down.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Iris Danderflower, bout yay high?" She held her hand about three and a half feet off the ground. Of course most hobbits were about 'yay high' but that was beside the point.

She stood suddenly, "Right then. Don't you worry Bilbo, I'll have this little misunderstanding sorted out within the hour," She held up her hand to him, stopping his protest before it began. His mouth opened and closed comically, unsure of what he should say, before he gave up and slumped back in his chair.

She nodded encouragingly at his obedience, she was training him up nicely, and spotting something that could help her convince Iris Danderflower to stop being a greedy, inconsiderate bitch, she made her way over to the tin beside the stove that some utensils were kept in.

Keeping her back to Bilbo-he was still slumped in his chair, she grabbed the wooden spoon out of its little tin and discretely slipped it up her sleeve; she grew up in Ireland, she knew the damage a wooden spoon could inflict.

Making her way to the kitchen door, her weapon cool against her skin, she stopped and turned to the other Hobbit. "Bilbo, what do you need the material for? You know, just in case I need to know."

Bilbo's reaction surprised her; he went from staring at the table to looking up at her with a faintly embarrased expression, and a light blush worked its way up his cheeks. "I em, I ordered some of the comfort ware you asked for." He got it out quickly, his blush intensifying.

Well if that wasn't the most adorable thing ever. Eliza sat staring at him with one of the looks she reserved for orphaned kittens and her little Zevran. It did nothing to help Bilbo, and he sat fidgeting in his seat.

When she first arrived, seeing as she had no clothes but the abomination on her back, Bilbo- who it turned out was exceedingly wealthy, was kind enough to supply her with the makings of a new wardrobe. All it took was a measuring session from the elderly Ms Burrows, in which she got closer to an elderly woman than she ever wanted to be, and the next few days saw her supplied with a colourful range of dresses, underwear (if you could call it that), and sleepwear. She made it a point of telling Bilbo that though female hobbits didn't usually wear 'male' clothes, she grew up wearing trousers and shirts around her home for comfort. He didn't understand why, but she told him that's what she was most comfortable in.

She gave him one last look that screamed, "You're adorable!" and told him in an overly emotional voice, "I'll be right back."

She walked quickly through the kitchen door towards the exit. Iris wouldn't know what hit her; like fuck was she spendin more time in a dress than absolutely necessary.

She opened the front door and what she saw stopped her inner emotional rant in it's tracks. Too shocked to move, she sat stirring in awe.

"Gandalf."

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Shit, did she say that out loud?

Good? Bad? Somewhere in between? Let me know!

I'm also sorry that I haven't replied to some of your wonderful reviews, but I only have limited laptop time and I thought you guys would rather an update. If you guys do want to contact me though, feel free to PM with whatever cause I found out I can reply to those on my ipod!

Anyway, next dedication goes out to whoever gets the name of the song first!

-The Lieutenant Sarcasm