Ugh, just looked at my summary, and I'm ashamed.

Oh, well, might as well leave it be.

And I looked at my other chapter. I broke down into something that was like hysterical laughter and sobbing, and yelling.

I had her kill him? O.o

Wow, that was so not according to plan.

*pulls out bag of chips* "crunch, crunch, crunch"

Well, Aren't you gonna read the chapter?

*baby brother grabs bag of chips, throws them on the ground* AAAAAHHHHHH! Okay bye!

Lina watched, amused, from her perch in the apple tree, as Tybalt tried to get Rosemary off of him, and onto the ground. He wasn't having much success, and was attracting a lot of attention from the rest of the garden, which seemed to irk him even further.

Finally, he bellowed at the group of gnomes watching him, "Don't you have better things to do? 'Cause if you don't, I'd gladly volunteer this squirming little brat to occupy your time!"

At that, the entire group scrambled, terrified of getting stuck caring for the baby.

"Wow," a voice whispered softly. The sound nearly sent Lina flying up onto her feet, but she managed to curb the urge before she caused herself a fatal trip down the tree onto the ground.

"Seems like Tybalt's met his match." Juliet. Lina could recognize that voice anywhere. She let out an inaudible sigh, before standing up. She loved to spy on people, watching their expressions as they reacted to different scenarios, and she wasn't going to miss a golden opportunity to spy on the Red garden's treasured girl. Slowly she climbed higher, finding a branch that concealed her from Juliet, but let her watch both what was going on below and Juliet's facial expression.

Juliet was standing comfortably, leaning against the trunk of the apple tree, one arm reaching around and behind the trunk, while the other one limply held the long-handled shovel that she had come to favor as a weapon. Her face was tilted down slightly, the corners of her lips curling up in amusement, a sliver of her teeth showing as she watched her fuming cousin try and peel the baby off of himself.

Seems like I'm not the only one who likes to spy, Lina thought to herself amusedly.

Juliet's gaze lifted up from just below them, and turned to a different corner of the garden. Lina followed her gaze, finding nothing in particular that would catch one's attention, except…



Lina switched back to the young red-hatted woman below her, watching every twitch that her face made.

The girl's eyebrows rose, just ever so slightly, as her eyes seemed to glaze over, just a hint, as she watched the blue gnome. Her shoulders seemed to relax a little, as every feature on her face and body went from tense and hard, to soft and more relaxed.

More…feminine, altogether.

Oh, I see.

The young Red gnome was attracted to her boyfriend. Lina chuckled, ever so slightly. She didn't mind. Oh, no, not at all. Maybe…maybe there was some hope for this garden after all.

"So there's a race? Tomorrow?" Lord Gnathan shook his head at his son, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Didn't you have one just last Sunday?" Lady Blueberry crossed her arms, frowning disapprovingly.

Gnathan chuckled, wrapping his white-sleeved arm around his wife. "Aw, come on love. Don't you remember all the races you used to get for me?"

Gnomeo rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he waited.

"That was when we were younger, Gnathan, it's different now."

"Um, I am twenty-three, you know. I can make decisions on my own," Gnomeo interjected, regretting it as soon as it came out.

Lady Blueberry turned her gaze towards him. "Oh, you're right. You've grown up on us."

Lord Gnathan laughed, pulling his wife away from their son before she started getting too nostalgic.

"I'll see you at your race, son!"

Gnomeo chuckled, "Sure."

Meanwhile, Juliet was having a worse problem than a nostalgic mom; an overprotective father.

"No, I refuse to let you race!"

"Redbrick, please-"

"No," he cut off his wife, "She is becoming obese-ed with this whole racing project!"

"Its 'obsessed' and 'prospect'," Juliet murmured, crossing her arms as she rolled her eyes. Did her dad seriously have to blow a gasket every time she had a race?

Lord Redbrick continued to rant as Lady Cordelia gently placed an arm around her daughter's shoulders, sighing.

"Patience, my dear, patience," she whispered quietly. Juliet scoffed incredulously, holding her hands out to indicate her father. Her mother sighed; shaking her head and tucking a stray strand of fading blonde hair back up into her hat.

"And there is absolutely no way you are racing tomorrow!"

"Dad, I'm twenty-one! I can take care of myself!"

"No, you cannot!" Lord Redbrick bellowed, his face nearly turning red. Cordelia reached over and gently wrapped her arms around her husband.

"Now, now love, no need to get so upset. Calm down, you don't want to do anything you'll regret later."

His wife's soft voice seemed to pull the Red leader back into reality. He faced her, placing his hands on her shoulders. After taking a few calming breaths, he composed himself.

Juliet was inspecting her fingernails with a disinterested look on her face.

"Now, Redbrick, look at me. Please, I don't see any reason why not to let Juliet race, I mean, look at how many races I had," Lady Cordelia tried to reason with her husband. He sighed, glancing at the cracked line that circled her neck, "Nothing ever happened to me, or my opponent."

"Cordelia, you know how I hate that alley," he gingerly traced the cracked line with his thumb, "I just hate letting her go out there."

The green-eyed older gnome sighed, knowing what he was referring to. "Just because I got hurt doesn't mean she will, okay?"

He still shook his head, but consented.

The younger gnome's green eyes lit up happily.

*Is sitting on the floor eating the chips off of the floor while baby brother makes "chip-angels"*

Me: Oh Hi, You finished!

Everyone: 0_0

Me: What? I mopped the floor with bleach this morning! "Crunch, crunch, crunch" Did you like the chapter? Please tell me I'm begging you! *gets onto knees*

Everyone: Uh…

Me: Oh come on, I'm joking! Hahaaha! *keeps eating chips off of the floor*