ShoutOuts!

KiwiOrange: I know, but it's so much fun. Sooner or later I'm going to be able to tell them how to eat, you know, "Eat faster, you're taking all day" or "Eat slower, you're going to make yourself sick!" Ah, all motherhood, whether real or imagined comes to it's golden moments at that point. That's what it's all about.

Wisecracker88: It's not the subject, it's me that's interesting ^_^ and ain't I humble? I work at it.

Gracie Jane: Oh! Huggles! *Hugs back* And exclamation points (unless trying to explain how horrible it is) are wonderful! I LOVE reviews like yours! You just make me feel warm and fuzzy all over!

Race: Ahem *looks over at the computer*

Yes Racy?

Race: Tell da goil dat I says hi, but dat she shouldn' say anythin' bout rockin' socks around you.

And why not?

Race: Because ya tink too mucha yaself, dat's why!

The rocking of the socks takes a lot of talent, so I hope you appreciate it.

ShortAtntionSpaz: How lovely! One of the one and only great and mighty true and living SAS's characters! And mine is slightly akin to hers! Just to tell you, I'm not being sarcastic, you are brilliant! And don't worry, I won't pet a burning dog, ever again, that is.

Just Groovy: Thank you for the Review! I love the fun how-cute-I-liked-it reviews, but literary critiques are also a blessing. I profusely thank you for your encouragement.

Decie: Cool. Thanks. I will.

*****Disclaimer***** Just by-the-by, "I Am" by Jill Phillips, yeah, it isn't mine, and neither is Newsies, so ya got nuthin' on me. *******************

~Hobbits and Nightmares~

It was raining hard as Kat straightened up what would be called the lobby and built up the fire in the stove. All done, with her sewing too, now almost a full hour before they descended upon her like locusts.

The door opened and a blast of cold air blew in. "Hey Kat! I's done oily!"

Or not.

Poor Dutchy was soaked to the skin but had a huge grin on his face, quite mischievous, actually, which made Kat's response slower than it would have been. She could tell if there was even the slightest difference in one of her boys, something was up.

"Come sit down, dear. I'll bring you some coffee." Kat walked off to the kitchen, but before Dutchy could move an inch he was greeted with a sharp reply.

"Don't you dare get my floor wet. I scrubbed it this morning! Take off your wet clothes, take a blanket from the stack near the door, and hang your clothes on the coat pegs and hat stand. I'm washing them tomorrow."

Dutchy shook his head as he obeyed. However she managed to stay one step ahead, he'd never figure out. Just a person who seemed to know you once she knew your name. He wrapped up in one of the fluffiest blankets and curled up near the stove, all the while trying to clean the rain water off of his glasses.

Kat brought a steaming cup of coffee in and set it near Dutchy's feet, choosing the chair next to it and starting her knitting. It was a sweater for Spot, who had lost his earlier last month, poor boy; he could never quite get warm this time of year. "So, what are you all smiles about?" She asked, knitting needles clicking.

"Well," Dutchy was blushing, oh, the complexities of the male mind. Obviously a girl, but she would let HIM tell it. "Dere's dis goil, I met about two weeks ago."

"Quite taken with her, are you?" She managed to contain the laugh in her throat and merely raised an eyebrow.

He took a sip of his coffee and smiled. "You would like 'er, Kat. She's really nice, and she woiks at Tibby's, as a waitress. 'Er name's Dina." He nodded his head as though that one fact was all that was needed for the world to keep turning.

Kat consented to a broad smile. He was such a sweetheart. "Well, I'll have to meet her sometime, I guess."

To Kat's great surprise, Dutchy answered in the affirmative. "Yeah, ya should!"

Kat sat in silence for the next few minutes, listening to the good many wonderful attributes of Dina, before Bumlets opened the door, also soaked.

Kat was appalled to catch Bumlets in the act of shaking out his hair like a dog. "Bumlets Rivera!" The guilty boy stood up strait and looked at the floor. "How many times have I told you to either get a hair-cut or stop doing that?"

"I's sorry, Kat."

"Forgiven, for the moment." She smiled at him. "Welcome back. You take off your wet things and wrap up in one of those blankets and I'll just get all of the cups and the coffee pot."

Bumlets started to take off his wet things when Kat had entered the kitchen, and sighed, but just low enough so that Kat couldn't hear. "I's ready ta boist, Dutchy. I love Anna, and don't give me dat look, Dutch- face. It's just that I don't know what ta do."

Dutchy tried to not pay attention, but that was slightly over the edge of impossible. "What were da ones we had narrah'd it down ta last time, exactly?" Dutchy started counting on his fingers. "Dere's da 'send a flowah'. You kicked dat one off months ago, right?"

"Check."

"Den dere was da 'send a note', but you thought that one was too much like a cheap novel."

Bumlets shook his head. "No, it's the flowah one dat I thought was out of a cheap novel, no, wait, it's both of 'em..."

"Then, there was the 'tell someone else and have them tell' but you said dat one had too many 'possible complications'." Dutchy continued.

"Check."

"DEN, dese are my favorite, the ones dat you thought up the night when you was drunk and was talkin' 'bout messages in bottles made from horses teeth."

Cringe

"Let's not bring dat up again."

"De only uddah one left is the strait-on approach."

Double cringe

"Oh, well, maybe someday, Dutchy, maybe someday."

"What's her name?" Kat was standing right behind Bumlets and Dutchy was giggling.

"Anna." Bumlets replied, as if out of habit.as it, indeed, was.

As more boys piled in with their blankets, and a few brought their pillows down, things got quite warm and friendly. The only real cross words for around two hours was 'CLOSE DA DOOR!' until, of course, Jack came in, looking like a storm cloud and twice as wet.

"Afta'noon ta all ya Scabbahs." He muttered, profusely disgusted with the weather and the American government. He figured, when you're really mad, you have to blame something.

"Did ya sell all a ya papes Jack, oah is Weasel gonna have ta make ya eat 'em?" Boots asked, resituating himself on his pillow, in the middle of a poker game with Race.

"Ya know what I think Weasel should do wid dose papes?" He dropped his wet clothes on the floor and sat himself down on the floor right in front of Kat, putting his wet head on her lap. "Hey, Kat, ya miss me?"

Kat moved her knitting. "Jack Kelly! You're going to get my knitting wet! Do you want Spot Conlon to be even more tempestuous at the loss of a sweater because it got wet while being knitted and then didn't fit right?"

"No Kat."

"Then please remove your soaked head from my lap."

After said object was removed quickly there was a long, expectant silence, which was finally broken by Snipeshooter.

"Hey, Kat; tell us a story." He looked genuinely bored, and curious, which was a look that Katerina could never resist. She set down her knitting and placed her hands in her lap.

"Sure. What do you want it to be about?" She had several stories in mind already.

"Something wid adventure." Bellowed Blink.

"Something sad!" Jack put in.

"Something wid just a little bit of, Romance." Bumlets muttered, receiving laughs from all of the boys.

"Something wid an unsuspectin' hero." Skittery always liked the odd stories.

"Something wid everything!" Boots said finally, over all the requests.

"With everything? I do believe I know just the right one." The whole time Kat was wondering if copywriting existed for books that had yet to be written, and whether knowing all of the plot twists of a book that was to be printed in a long time was any hurt to sales in the future, not to mention practically memorizing a movie, or two, or three, or four.

"Does it start with 'Once upon a time'?" asked Mush, not too fond of fairy tales, or bedtime stories.

"No, as a matter of fact, it doesn't, and it even has a little bit of romance to it, but that comes much later in the story. I might even be able to tell it if you would be quiet."

Several boys sent glares Mush's way but Kat hardly noticed. She was already starting the story.

"In a Hole in the ground, lived a Hobbit,"

"Hey Kat, what's a Hobbit?" Snipeshooter tugged at her skirt, curious.

"If you let me tell the story, you might find out." She smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Sorry."

"It's OK. Now, it was not a dry, sandy hole, nor a wet cold one. It was built for a Hobbit, and that meant comfort."

For quite a while the young girl kept the crowd of boys entertained, and every person who managed to glance inside the window would've said that all of the boys were eating out of the palm of her hand, which was quite true. Who could ever resist a clever, sarcastic wizard, a poor unsuspecting hero, a company of treasure hunters, trolls, mysterious rings, gold-starved elves, dragons, and swords. As far as I know, no one has been able to resist them entirely as of yet. But, back to our friends.

"And poor Bilbo couldn't think of the answer. He wracked his brain for the answer but none came, and just as Gollum was reaching for his throat he yelled 'Give me time!' The only problem was, he was quite nervous, as I'm sure anyone would be, but the 'Give me time!' turned, purely by accident, into a small shriek of 'TIME!', which, of course, was the answer." Kat then picked up her knitting, stood up, and started walking out of the room.

Boots stood up, confused and incredulous. "That's not the end is it?"

"Of course not," Kat motioned to a small clock on the wall behind the lobby desk. "But it's time for all of you to be off to bed. I'll tell you all more tomorrow night." She turned her back on a collective groan and made her way up the stairs to her room.

"Imagine that." She muttered, while braiding her hair, "Who'd have thought that they loved 'The Hobbit' so much?"

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

Kat awoke just two hours after going to sleep. She heard something coming from the boy's room. She picked up her robe and put it over her night- dress, tying the sash and pushing strands of hair out of her face. It sounded like someone was trying to pick up something heavy, grunts and straining and small whimpers.it sounded like Snipeshooter.

Kat hurried into the bunk-room, careful to make as little noise as possible, picking her way through the objects strewn about the floor. It was Snipeshooter, he looked like he was trying to lift something and could hear him muttering.in Spanish.Kat leaned forward to listen, and see if she could remember any of the words.

"A la! Por fa, no! Mama! Vénganme! Tu puedes! Mama!" There were tears streaming down his face, and his hair was everywhere, matted by a cold sweat. Her baby brother used to look like this when he had nightmares, except they weren't as real as Snipe's. Kat sat on his bunk and as she smoothed back his hair he caught hold of her hand, tightly, as if to try and make her turn to stone and never move. "Te amo a ti, mama, Te amo." He was crying harder now, his tears coming faster and faster as he squeezed Kat's hand tighter and tighter.

She couldn't bear to see him like this. She had heard from Bumlets that Snipe's mom, who had been Mexican, had died in a factory accident, as a large piece of machinery fell on top of her. The police and the owners had found Snipe still standing there days later, right where his mother had died. They had sent him to an orphanage, and he had managed to escape it.and some of his grief.but it still came back at night.

What had she used to do with her little brother? She picked up his head and cradled it in her lap, stoking his hair.he latched on tight to her waist and wouldn't let go, and Kat's own tears began to fall. She had never had much of a voice, but her baby brother had liked this one song.

Come gently lay your head, upon my chest And I will comfort you, as a mother, while you rest The tides can change so fast, but I will stay The same in past, the same in future, same today

I am comfort, I am near, I am the peace That shatters all your secret fears I am lovely, I am wise, I'm the only one who knows your heart's desires Your heart's desires

Come weary tired and worn, let out your sighs I will be here, no need to cry, I will show you a love that is deep, and high and wide

Kat couldn't sing any more. Snipeshooter had loosened his grip around her waist and was smiling in his sleep, whispering.

"Te amo a ti, mama."

Kat tried to stop sobbing as she answered. "Te adoro, mi amor." She brushed her tears, and his, off of his round face. "Te adoro."

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

Hope ya'll liked it. I live in a Spanish speaking country, but I've never been much of a linguist so I'm not sure I got the conjugation just right, but it'll do.

OK, REVIEWS! A la, por fa! It's P.O.C. (A piece of cake). All you have to do is click on the little button that says 'go' and write what you think.unless it's something mean, and then you can keep it to yourself.