They never give up... You block one address and they create a new one and do it again. Do they really get paid that much that it's worth annoying the online world or do they simply get some malicious thrills out of knowing they annoy people?

To give byrhthelm support, some respite from outside distractions and renewed motivation to grab his muse by the throat and get her to finally finish the fic he's been promising for so long I've forgotten how long, I've decided to from now on hold back with my fics/updates until he posts at least the first chapter. That should get the ball rolling as he just needs a small push (or rather, a strong kick in the posterior... :D) to rewrite what he lost in his hdd crash.

You too can help him get through his writer's block, by asking or even demanding for "Gill". He'll know who that is. *g* Let's all do our part to support an inspiration-struggling writer in his time of emotional need... :)

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When he opened his email and saw the contents Harm groaned in dispair.

"Dear god, not again!"

"What is it?" asked his girlfriend from the kitchen, worry colouring her tone. She stopped drying the dishes, hung the towel over her shoulder and crossed the distance between them. Lightly scratching with her fingernails at the back of his neck, which made Harm pur like an over-grown cat, she directed her eyes at the computer screen.

"Spam." her boyfriend explained shortly.

"Ah." she said, nodding knowingly "The spam that got us into this trouble in the first place? I thought you had Roberts take care of it."

"I wouldn't exactly say trouble..." Harm denied her first statement. Twisting in his hips he draped an arm across Loren's waist, gently tugging her around him until she sat in his lap.

"And I did." he confirmed, then blew out his breath in irritation, ruffling his love's blond tresses "But it seems they have found a way around it."

"Well? What is it this time? Are they offering you bigger breasts? A toned butt? Cheap Rolex watches? Business proposals from some Nigerian Prince to help him launder money? More Viagra?" she gave him an amused look, that quickly changed it into half-sultry "If so, I can notify them that you definitely don't need it."

"Actually no." Harm replied thoughtfully, then clicked a few times as he pulled up the trash folder of his email "This one is a new kind. It says '+18 Get pregnant quickly and naturally within two months...'"

"When will they give up?" Loren sighed and, putting her small hand on top of his, guided it so the email was permanently deleted. With an affectionate kiss to his cheek she took momentum to propel herself off her perch, but stopped her motions when she noticed the absent look in Harm's eyes "Harm?"

It took only a few seconds and he was back with her, but this time with a secretive, mischevious smile glinting in his aquamarines.

"Haaaarm?" she drawled hesitantly. Two years of sharing her life with the man had taught her that that look meant nothing good.

When his smile broadened so wide it became the grin he was so famous among the female population for, realization dawned upon the slim blonde in his arms.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed and quickly put some distance between them "Don't go getting any ideas! That last one had me walking funny for two days!"

Backing up with her hands in the air in that universal gesture of "stop right there", she watched with growing alarm (and no small amount of arousal, if she admitted it to herself) as he got to his feet, with slowness born from confidence of a panther that knew his prey could not get away.

"Oh, yes."

"Nu-uh!" Loren disagreed as she backed up again, then tilted her head in confusion over the strange way in which he moved, until it dawned on her he was herding her like a Border Collie herds a flock of sheep into the direction it wants. Right into their bedroom...

"We're not getting me pregnant, Harm! Not over a challenge!"

That didn't convince him as he continued his prowl. Holding his hands away from his body in a harmless gesture to correspond with the innocent expression on his face (neither of which convinced her), he tried to appeal to her better sense...

"Come on, babe, let's show 'em we can do it on our own..."

And with a diabolical laugh, accompanied by his girlfriend's shriek as she turned and ran, Harm chased a Loren that was slowly becoming sold on the idea into the bedroom.

THE END (it would be nice, but I doubt they'll ever give up. Tossers)

Reviews are love.