There is something to be said for being able to sleep anywhere. On a bus, bed, park bench, it didn't really matter to Ali how or where she caught her zzz's. She was even used to being shaken awake by strangers and cops worried about her. See to Ali's great dismay she was vertically challenged, fun sized, nano, travel sized, condensed awesome, the list was rather endless. Never had Ali had a real problem being short, sure the top shelf was tough to reach but she managed. That was until some do gooder would come by to check on the child sleeping on the bench and boom, not a kid.

Maybe that's why on this particular day as she was being shaken awake for what felt like the millionth time she thought she would be funny. Ali found shortly after that being funny wasn't her strong suit.

Sitting up strait as quickly as possible she flung her eyes open and yelled, "BOO!"

Now in the next nano second quite a bit happened. First her waker took a surprised step back, flinging his arms up and yelling in surprise. Though Ali didn't know who was more shocked as she glanced over the pair standing in front of her. Jerking back she went to brace her hand against the bench seat only to frantically wave her hand through open air.

A small shriek escaped as she rolled off the edge followed quickly by another from the man. The last thing she remembered was seeing the flagstone before she acquainted her face with it.

The air was warm and smoky, the bed was soft and velvety. Ali smiled and pulled the blanket up to her chin, then reality hit like a brick, or flagstone. Sitting up sharply Ali's head pounded, but she threw back the covers and searched the room.

It was empty, of people at least. Books lined the walls, trinkets shoved in between them, a small fire crackled in a tiny round fireplace. Stepping lightly Ali crossed to a small table by the wall, a pot of ink and quill caught her attention. That was certainly cute and old timey, as was the little carved pipe, carved wooden window sill, tiny waist coat and pocket watch.

"Why do I feel like I just stepped back in time," Ali asked herself and rubbed her eyes. Tip toeing to the also round door Ali peeked out the crack, it was a hallway, decorated in the same balance of cluttered yet clean fashion. Continuing on her toes she followed the hall, moving to where she could see firelight dancing on the walls.

There was a certain pleasure to being able to move silently, like some kind of ninja. That's when she felt it, "bastards took my shoes," she gasped.

"Pardon?" A small voice piped from a side room.

Surprised Ali took a step back and cried out.

The small man mirrored her shock. He was the first to regain his posture, "now let's not start that again," he stamped his foot.

Finally Ali was able to really take him in. He was shorter than her, not by too much though. There was a curly mop of brown hair that given different circumstances Ali would have loved to run her fingers through, just to see if it were as soft as it looked. The small man was dressed in a robe, tied with what looked like a curtain sash. What caught her attention was his feet though. Now Ali didn't normally bother to even look at other people's feet, not exactly the most interesting part of a person. In this case though it might have been, cause they were huge, easily twice the size they should be.

"What the hell happened to his feet?" Ali thought.

"I beg your pardon?" The small man huffed, crossing his arms in front of him.

Ali kicked herself for thinking out loud.

"I'll have you know that my feet are perfectly acceptable for my persons." He stuck his chin out as if she should have known this fact. "We hobbits are proud of our feet."

"You what's?" Ali blurted out, still standing as if she was ready to dart out the door, the idea was beginning to cross her mind.

"We hobbits, shire folk, Halflings as some call us," the small man shuffled forward and extended his hand to her. "But where are my manners, Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, at your service."

For one of the first times in her life Ali was completely dumbstruck. Normally her manners were completely on point, but today she just stared at the hand as if afraid she might catch his hobbityness. At this moment she had a dilemma before her, the man was obviously crazy. Ali just had to figure out if he was the sweet, genuine, crazy, or if he was the shank you and drink your blood in the name of his hobbit gods crazy.

Slowly she extended her own hand, deciding that if he was the demented kind it was best to not upset him so early in the game. Especially since he had hidden her shoes somewhere. "Ali," she said quietly, eyeing him for signs he was thinking of skinning her.

"Well Ali, I was about to begin preparing my evening meal, would you care to join?" Bilbo rubbed his hands together and smiled rather warmly at her.

As if her stomach had heard the word food, or knew her well enough to know she was about to protest, it let out a rather inelegant grumble. Bilbo laughed with one hand on his belly and shuffled off down the hallway, motioning for her to follow.

Obediently she mimicked his shuffle down the hallway and took the seat he pulled out for her. Bilbo's kitchen was decorated in the same old fashioned way that the rest of what she had seen.

"Would you care for some tea?" Bilbo asked as she had been staring at his old pipe stove.

"That sounds lovely," Ali responded automatically.

It only took until he set down her steaming mug for Ali to decide that Bilbo was definitely the cute kind of crazy. "Hell if he was going to rip my still beating heart from my chest he wouldn't have called himself Bilbo," she giggled.

"Excuse me?" Bilbo spun around, Ali's eyes widened, had she said that out loud?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded!" Ali protested, "normally there aren't other people around, so I talk out loud a lot. Breaks up that unending silence, you know? Although I should really work at keeping most of those to myself. Not really appropriate for all your thoughts to be out there, might as well be able to read my mind…" Ali sort of dropped off with her ramblings, taking instead to staring at her tea. Surely now he was wondering what kind of crazy she was.

"Why don't you talk to your family?" Bilbo moved the fish around the pan.

"Oh they haven't really been around much," or at all, but perhaps that was over sharing.

"Certainly you have friends to talk to?" Bilbo was definitely the kind sort of crazy.

"Oh yea, tons of friends, like at least a hundred. Good listeners that bunch…" Ali examined her cup, now he was definitely considering her a skitzo.

"Don't you have anyone?" Bilbo asked as he was plating up their food.

"Sometimes I talk to the fuchsia in the park," okay now she was a legit crazy, god could she ever just shut her face hole.

Bilbo only laughed, and not one of those, 'I'm about to call the cops cause I'm scared' kinds of laughs, but a warm laugh that crinkled the corners of his brown eyes. "Sometimes I talk to my azaleas," the smile on his cute little face slid off as he looked up to her. "I don't really have anyone to talk to either, so it's a pleasure to have you join me for this meal Miss Ali."

It was the first time Ali had ever felt her heart break and warm at the same time. Instead she just smiled, "I hope you know we are besties now!"