I'm back writing this story! I'll probably be finishing it off soon, or else I'm just going to run out of things to write about and then I'll be rambling on like a senile old woman.

I know this is going to be rather sudden from the last chapter, but I wasn't exactly sure how to make it more gradual. This is one of those sudden 180° turn moments that, hey, let's face it, do happen in life.

"You two just have to stop your nonsense!" Gimli's face was red, and it seemed as if he was pretty darned mad. Nat had never seen him like that before. It was scary. An angry dwarf was definitely on her list of one of the most freaky-deaky things she had ever seen.

Gimli continued his tirade. "Practical jokes, yelling… you would think that the both of you would break into a fight one day! I will not tolerate all this in my home, you hear?"

"All right, sir…" Deon muttered, clearly taken aback by Gimli's wrath as well.

"Yes… we understand, Gimli. I'm sorry…" Nat added.

The dwarf took a deep breath. "Good."

"Ow!"

Deon turned to see Nat sprawled on the ground. A grimace had twisted her face, and her right ankle was at an odd angle. That definitely hurts, he thought to himself with a smirk. "Hah, told you, you can't wear a dress," he said.

"You're really helpful, you know," Nat shot back. "OWWW."

Something in Deon relented, and he walked back towards her. He held on to her arm and helped her to her feet. "Here, put your arm across my shoulders and put your weight on me," he muttered. Nat did so, and they took a few steps in that awkward, wobbly manner. Nat almost fell over again, pulling Deon down with her. "That doesn't work," Deon said, stating the obvious. "Oh well." With one smooth gesture, he picked Nat up, like a knight carrying a princess.

"What am I supposed to do with my arms?" Nat asked lamely, blushing at the way she was being carried. When she was a child, she had once dreamed that a nice guy would carry her like that. Except Deon's not a nice guy, she told herself. He's a horrid, stuck-up freak.

"Just put them around my neck." Deon carried her easily. He was pretty strong. They went on this way for awhile. He's not that bad after all, Nat decided. Then Deon just had to spoil the lovely feeling she was having for him by remarking, "You're really heavy."

"SHUT UP!"

"Thanks, Pete, I owe you." Patrick hung up the phone and sighed. He was definitely needing two weeks extra of a break. Pete was an angel, for agreeing to help him out. Kathy spared him a glance, and then turned her head back to the paper.

TWG came lumbering into the room, and took his place between the two of them on the couch. He turned to Kathy. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for a job, Sméagol. I've been on 'extended holiday' for long enough."

"What's a job?"

"It's something you do with your time, and then you get paid for it. With the money you get from it, you can get things that you need and like."

"Like fish?"

"Yes, like fish."

TWG grabbed the newspaper, and began poring over it. "Sméagol wants a job," he declared.

Patrick burst out laughing. "What are you going to work as? Or better yet, who is going to employ you?"

Kathy, on the other hand, looked rather thoughtful. "Hmmm… maybe that could work."

Patrick choked on his laughter. "WHHHHHAAAAT???!!!"

Chapters will become shorter. I don't exactly have a reason for that. Perhaps because more of my attention are going towards my other fic. Perhaps it's just easier. Perhaps it's funnier. Perhaps I just like it that way. I don't know. But chapters will probably be this length from now on. Sorry…