Disclaimer: Only Bob can prevent wildfires. However, I cannot claim ownership of the rights to SpongeBob SquarePants.

A/N: Enjoy this psychotic use of my time.

Squidward was far too excited to be stuck in bed right now. Nurse Angel had just given him the news that SpongeBob would be arriving soon to take him home. Upon request, she had given him a satchel to put the brown cooler in. She had also been kind enough to check on the brain for him, assuring him that it was indeed intact. Currently, he lay on his cot with this precious package nestled securely in his arms, dressed and anxious to leave Aqua Marina Hospital.

Oh, SpongeBob, he thought to himself, I wish you'd hurry up. I know it must take a while to find a ride willing to bring you all the way here and back, but that doesn't give you the right to keep me waiting. He smiled to himself, picturing how his fiancé's face would look when at last they met again. SpongeBob would run into his room and take him in his arms and hold him until his ribs ached with the joy of reunion.

The only thing keeping Squidward from complete ecstasy was his accursed confinement to his bed. Because his legs were not fully healed, the doctors didn't want to risk allowing him to walk. They were sending with him all the paperwork Bikini Bottom General would need in order to complete his healing. Were it not for SpongeBob, Squidward would be content to stay at Aqua Marina Hospital for the remainder of his medical care. But Nurse Angel had told him that SpongeBob insisted on bringing him home as soon as possible, and so he relented.

As he sat in his bed, he pondered his fiancé's odd behavior. SpongeBob hadn't spoken to him at all, not even today as he lay in wait of his departure. Perhaps he is too emotional, he reasoned, and fears he will burst into tears if he hears my voice. I know I would. But it mattered little, because soon his beloved would be there, and all his worries would disappear...

The pineapple was in utter chaos as SpongeBob and Evilene carried her things into the house. In every corner of the room, along every wall of the house, boxes upon boxes were piled to the ceiling.

SpongeBob grunted as he set down the last box. He looked at Evilene and implored her, "Where are we going to put all this stuff?"

Evilene straightened her back and stretched, rotated her shoulders and neck. Then she put her hand to her chin and pondered. "The back room would do, I suppose, unless you've filled it since last I visited."

SpongeBob gave her a skeptical look. "When have you explored my house?"

Evilene put her hands on her hips. "When we were together. At first, it was my place, but I started to suspect Patrick might be bugging the house. However, Squidward was here a lot, so we had other places, as well."

"What other places?" SpongeBob asked, his morbid curiosity outweighing his disgust.

Evilene opened her mouth to answer, but her phone rang, and she exited the room quickly to answer it. SpongeBob inwardly sighed in relief, then chastised himself for his big mouth.

Outside the pineapple, away from earshot, Evilene spoke with her inside man:

"You can get access to the hospital, right? Good. He should still trust you. Bring him to the edge of Rock Bottom. I will meet you there in an hour. I love you too."

Evilene reappeared in the living room and cast her new roommate an embarrassed smile. "That was my lawyer. Apparently some of the paperwork was done incorrectly, and they need me to go back and fix it."

SpongeBob frowned in disappointment. "Right now?"

Evilene sighed in mutual frustration. "I know, I know. But the longer I put it off, the longer I remain married to that murderer. You understand my rush, don't you?"

SpongeBob nodded. "Should I start moving these into the back room?"

Evilene answered with an indulgent smile. "Take a break, dear. I should be back in two hours, max. Relax, watch some television, make yourself a snack. I don't want to see one box moved when I return," she added with a lighthearted chuckle.

SpongeBob offered her his best attempt at a smile before she dismissed herself from his house – or their house now, he reminded himself.

Squidward was starting to get worried when Nurse Angel popped her head into his room with a brilliant smile. "It's time!" she trilled.

Squidward was so excited that he had two feet on the floor before the nurse chastised him and whipped a wheelchair into his room. "Sorry," he grinned, his cheeks exposing his guilt, "I forgot."

She pointed a motherly finger at him in jest before smiling and reminding him once more, "Stay off your feet for at least one week, maybe more if the pain persists. You will need to change your cast after two weeks and keep that one on for three more weeks. Your other three legs should be ready to go in one week, so don't forget to exercise them daily if you want not to walk funny. Have SpongeBob cater to your ever need, but don't overwork the poor dear. And one more thing –"

"Angel!" he protested with a laugh, "I will be fine. SpongeBob will take care of me. You have nothing to worry about."

She pursed her lips, unconvinced. "I put your prescriptions in the satchel. Don't lose them. I will be calling Bikini Bottom General to make sure you filled them on time."

"I'll go as soon as I get home," he promised as she wheeled him down the hospital corridors. They stopped at the front desk to sign the release papers.

"I wish I could meet your dear SpongeBob," Nurse Angel lamented as they neared the doors.

Squidward furrowed his brow in confusion. "Why can't you?"

"Because he couldn't come to get you. He sent a friend instead."

"Friend?" Squidward asked. That's when he realized who had come with his two-seat, 500 seahorse-power, blue and silver sports boat to pick him up from the hospital and bring him home. "Patrick?"

A/N: Le gasp! What does this mean? Do I know? Why aren't I answering?!