A/N: This chapter wins the award for "Hardest Chapter to Come Up With a Title For". And, also, I really, really hope sweets09 is having an awesome time in Guatemala!

I know I really hate long A/Ns, so I'm going to keep this brief: I have never written about adults before. Never. If you see something in here that needs a little work, please review! If you think it was great and I shouldn't change anything, please review! Just let me know how I did… thanks!

Chapter Ten:

Time is Our Friend

Five years passed. Seaweed—being who he was—and Link—having filled himself up so much in the looks and dancing skills departments that he was somewhat short on brains—did not go to college, requiring them to find something else to do with their time. Link was mercifully discovered by a record company in the first year, and did very well; he sold hundreds and hundreds of 45s in… well, in record time.

Seaweed, however, was not so lucky. He had always known there was money in dancing, but it took him until the second year to figure out that there was even more money in teaching people how to dance. Even so, it took him until the fourth year to get himself a decent apartment.

Through all this, though, the two respective couples did not drift apart. In fact, in the middle of Tracy's senior year at MSU, she and Link decided they could not wait any longer and got married. Their marriage was unconventional from the start; Tracy insisted on graduating before moving in (or even honeymooning) with Link.

Seaweed and Penny were not married yet. They loved each other, each more than the other could know, but they couldn't tie each other down that way until they were more stable.

But even so, if it was possible, Penny and Seaweed fell more deeply in love than ever before… until Seaweed finally decided it was time.

SEAWEED'S POV

"And… break!" Seaweed grabbed a towel from his duffel bag and wrapped it around his neck. "Good job, everybody," he said to his students. "See you next week—don't practice, or you'll get used to your mistakes. That means you, Paul." The best dancer in his class grinned and gave him a thumbs-up before leaving with the rest.

Seaweed checked his watch: four-thirty. He had two hours before Penny would be at his apartment for dinner; that was more than enough time to swing by Tracy and Link's place. He needed to ask them something.

He went to the locker room after his students left and changed into some normal clothes, then headed out the door of his dancing school (he still had a hard time believing it) onto the streets of downtown Baltimore.

He considered briefly whether his comrades would be at their apartment. Tracy's job teaching music at PS 23 ended at two-thirty, and Link hadn't needed to go to the recording studio in months. Yes, they would be there.

He found their apartment building and took the elevator to the ninth floor. Oh, God, how am I gonna tell them? he thought. Is it even gonna come outta my mouth? He wiped his brow and brushed his clammy hands on his pants. Gosh, if I'm like this now, what am I gonna do when I have to do it for real?

The elevator stopped. He sauntered up to apartment #903 and rang the doorbell. Tracy answered it a few moments later.

"Seaweed!" she squealed. "Hi! How are you?"

"I'm fine, Tracy, just like yesterday." If nothing else, life as an elementary school teacher had made Tracy peppier than ever.

"Good," she beamed, completely unfazed. She called, "Link! Seaweed's here!" and led her guest into the living room.

Seaweed sat down in an armchair and leaned forward, leaning his chin in his hand and his elbow on his knee. Tracy sat on the sofa opposite, right next to Link, who was engrossed in some kind of televised sport. (Seaweed was not feeling observant enough at the moment to pick out which one it was, but he could at least tell from the screaming that it wasn't golf.)

"Sooooo…" Tracy said, prompting conversation.

"Uh, hey." Seaweed waved absently at Link, who grunted. "Listen, I've got something I wanted to talk to you guys about…"

"Ooh, what is it?" Tracy asked, intrigued. Even Link managed to momentarily turn his attention to the very nervous-looking man sitting across from him.

"Ah, well, I don't know if I can say it out loud right now…"

"Oh, great! Then we can play twenty questions! I love that game!"

"Right, Tracy." Link was obviously prepared to agree with anything his wife said as long as she didn't interrupt his football game (yes, yes, it was football; he was able to tell now).

"Okay… first question…" Tracy thought for a minute. "Oh, I know: does it have anything to do with Penny?"

"Yes…."

"Did you do something bad?" Link asked, eyes glued to the television.

"No! I mean, I don't think I did…"

Tracy excitedly asked her next question. "Are you getting her something?"

"That has something to do with it."

"Is it… a car?"

"Not quite in that price range, no."

"Jewelry?"

"Yes! Yes, that's a big part of it."

"Necklace? Bracelet? Ring… OH MY GOODNESS, YOU'RE GOING TO PROPOSE!!!" Seaweed nodded, relieved that Tracy was still as perceptive as ever. She shook Link out of his sports reverie. "LINK, HE'S PROPOSING TO PENNY!"

Link smiled. "Congratulations!"

Weakly, Seaweed smiled back. "Thanks, but… I need ideas."

Link turned back to his game. "It's been, what, six years? You know she's gonna say yes."

Tracy snorted. "Ignore him. He's lost a little of his romance recently." (Link started a little, obviously slightly insulted, but did not tear his attention from the game.) "We," she made a gesture that implied that she and Seaweed were in this together, "can think of something to make it a night she won't forget!"

Tracy thought for a second. Suddenly, her face lit up, and she leaned towards Seaweed eagerly. "I know… do you have time to drop by the grocery store?"