A/N: First of all, I'd like to thank all of you out there who are reading this, and who want me to go on. And I'd like to apologize for not updating this as soon as I promised. I'd truly planned to, but then life ran away again. I'm sure you all have experienced this at some point as well. :D Here's a nice chappie for you all, though. Thank-you again for your persistant patience!

I scowled at the girls giggling and blushing as Boromir passed them. To my gratitude, he ignored them. I was suffering from a jealousy complex—I knew that. But it was seriously so difficult to do anything when every time we went into public, a bunch of ravenous man-hunting teenaged girls (who weren't as stupid as I liked to think, and could recognize an amazing man a mile away) trailed him everywhere. The next time some shameless flirt asks him for his number, I swear—I cannot be held responsible for any bodily damage I may inflict on anyone. And Boromir, while we're on the subject of girls, better learn really fast to stop being polite to all these…flirts. Seriously, we're not in Gondor—this is America. Girls can have their hearts broken—they heal in about 2 seconds (or however much time it takes for someone else to catch their eyes).

Boromir blushed sheepishly as he approached me. He knew how much it annoyed me when girls chased after him—and, thankfully, he tried to avoid it as much as possible. I smiled triumphantly at the girls as he reached my side and took my hand in his. They grumbled slightly, dispersing in whatever direction suited them best. Boromir, on the other hand, triumphantly held up a milkshake in one hand and a Big Mac in the other. "Oh, God," I mumbled as I grabbed the milkshake and slurped it ravenously. "ang-ook!" I said happily. Then I swallowed and tried again. "Thank-you," I repeated gratefully, "You don't know how awful this is!" It was a silly quirk —whenever Mom had told me stories of unimaginable yearnings for the strangest foods, I hadn't believed her, deciding that I would be one of the craving-free lucky people. But such was not the case—I was an official McDonald's fan now, and was gaining more weight than I had thought possible. But at least it wasn't something totally wild, like flour and fries.

Boromir smiled at me and patted my rounding belly—a mound that, sadly, was at four months, less baby than it was Big Mac and milkshake. "It's all for the little one," he told me condescendingly. It was now my turn to blush. Though I had continuously told myself that once the baby was born, my cravings would stop, I was scared that it wouldn't. I had to admit—I was enjoying these burgers and milkshakes more than I had imagined. A guilty pleasure, I had to admit, but pleasure none-the-less.

We were at the mall. It was an event I had been looking forward to ever since I'd wrapped my mind around the fact that Boromir and I were going to be parents: shopping. No, of course not ordinary shopping. We were shopping for something a whole lot more important: paint for the baby room. Our child was getting a special room, and I was doing it myself. I wanted a star theme, I had told Boromir, and he would have to deal with it. He was a smart man—he knew better than to argue with me. I had also decided that I was going to do it myself. The baby didn't need a room done by a stranger—Mommy could handle it.

I thought that it would be fun and informative for the baby to have passages of wisdom on the wall too. Maybe shooting stars, with quotes as the tails. Quotes like "Honor your father and your mother." After all—it was never too early to teach a child respect. Boromir wanted to go with plain white stars—he said that the white stars and a white tree were a big thing in Gondor. Not that I would know. I had only dreamed about it. It wasn't as if I had lived there or anything.

So there we were, me finishing my lovely calorie dose, and Boromir walking patiently beside me, hanging on to my bags. I had told him we were shopping solely for paint…but we were at the mall! If I wanted only paint, I would have gone to the hardware store. No, I wanted some…useful items to help with my…muse while painting the baby's room. Useful items such as comfortable clothes, some new music, peanut butter. Just little things like that. And the rocker…but that was a delivery, so he wasn't carrying that. Which was a good thing. He's strong and all, but I don't want him to have to lug a huge box around or anything.

When we finally reached the paint store, I was tired, and wishing I had made him carry the rocker. Maybe we shouldn't have taken the long detour, and instead have just come right here. Oh well, at least it wouldn't be a long walk to the car.

I wanted dark blue, with yellow paint…preferably sparkly. But I didn't know if there was such a thing as sparkly paint, and the high-school flunkout that was waiting on us didn't know either. I don't think he knew much of anything, but that was a different story. So while he was in back, trying to find someone who did know, Boromir tried to convince me to go with grey and white instead. I didn't like the idea. But when he gave me the "bright colors make the room look bigger" speech, I had to concede. But only a darkish grey, and sparkly white paint for the stars.

Almost immediately at the end of our mini-conference, flunky returned. Yes, they did have yellow paint with sparkles. Would I like to purchase any? They had a new savings card, did I know? "No," I told him, "I would actually like white paint with shimmers." And he was back trying to find out about white sparkly paint before I could call him back. I stared at Boromir, trying to bite back my giggles. It wasn't working very well.

An hour later, we had our paint. I don't think either of us could leave quick enough. No more paints for me. I made a mental note to myself not to let the baby ever work in a paint store. It was bad for the brain. I was afraid my mind had been forever damaged. "How long does it take to mix up paint?" I asked rhetorically.

Boromir, thinking my question was aimed at him, shrugged. He wasn't a good person to ask—he had no idea. But he did know where he wanted to go. I think the car had been calling to him. He made a straight beeline for it. I don't think I've ever seen him find the car that fast. It was amazing. I also don't think he ever wanted to see another store in his life…especially not those of the mall variety.

All in all, I felt that I'd had a successful day. Minus the part about Boromir probably never willingly taking me shopping again. But that was OK, since ravenous man-hunting girls seemed to populate largely the malls. Maybe once he had a baby in his arms he'd feel differently. Until then, however, I might just have to keep him in the apartment, keeping him busy with important tasks, such as learning how to cook. There was no way I'd ever learn, that was for sure.

Reviewer Responses: Wow! 6 people have reviewed, basically for one chapter, plus the author's note! I feel...loved! Thank-you all!

BrightSideoftheDark: That's what I've been told. I'm truly working on slowing down and focusing on one thing, and just elongating it. But it, like all things, does take time. Thank-you!

Tariel: No, I can't say that I have. Is it here on FF? I'll have to see, I suppose. So not-casual is good? lol I don't know--this was my first idea of a fanfic that actually got past my mind. It's not the best ever (no, really:)), but I'm hoping that once I finish it I'll go back and redo it some, maybe make it a whole lot better:D

theycallmemary: Tee-hee? Sorry? Here you go! Shoves story into arms and runs off.

Cindy: Aren't we all? Drools at picture of precious. Yummy...lol

Amanda: Yay! I'm glad you love it! Weeeee! Yuppers, Middle-aged guy is none other than the star of Lord of the Rings! Precious:P

Cindy: Yup. I'm updating soon. See? Sorry. :) my bad?

A/N: Again, thank-you all for your patience. We love our humble lackeys who exist to boost our ego. It makes us feel special indeed. Yay! dances off like crazy person, singing about special bunnies and chocolate turtles