By: Dana
Summary: Frodo is quite sure his cousins are up to something.
Characters: Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin
Pairings: Frodo/Sam, Merry/Pippin
Rating: G
Warnings: light slash
Author's Notes: And so I give you a gift of gratuitous pre-quest (but right at the beginning, as they'll soon be leaving Bag End) fluff. Where Frodo is Frodo and Sam blushes and Merry steals an apple and Pippin is simply cute.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

Frodo is quite certain that his cousins must be up to some sort of mischief. After all, they've been spending what could be called an awful lot of time around Bag End, for the last handful of months. Standing outside of Bag End, he looks to where Sam is sitting at work. "I'm sure it's not because of my stunning personality," Frodo continues to voice his thoughts. "They're up to something, but I can't be sure."

Sam bent his head to look to the weeds at the foot of the fencepost. He risks a look at Frodo, standing what seems like a world away. It's a world that Sam could reach out and touch if he simply put his mind to it. "Well, sir, perhaps they just want to make the best of the Summer."

Frodo thinks this over then shakes his head. "Something silly doesn't fit together, Sam. I'd go as far to say that somehow they've figured it out..." Frodo shakes his head and Sam looks up to him, a concerned look on his face.

"Now, how would that be, sir?"

Frodo grins and shoves his hands into the pockets of his weskit. "That's what I think needs to be figured out, dear Sam. Come now, have a bit of tea with me. I'm sure those truants are going to be back soon, and then we'll lose this precious silence."

Sam nods, then stops and shakes his head. "Let me just run down to my hole, sir, and get into a fresh change of clothes." He nearly continues but grins sheepishly instead. Frodo nods.

"I'll be waiting for you, Sam."

"And I'll be back with bells on."

Frodo smiles and watches as Sam turns and leaves. His thoughts begin to wander again. He's getting a chance here to know Sam in ways he never thought could possibly be. Sam is tied up in this deceit with him, after all. He needs to know Sam so he knows that he can trust him. But there's a part of him that trusts Sam completely as it is. So Frodo doesn't know how much closer he can get, or else he's going to scream.

He makes his way into Bag End and puts the tea onto boil. He was right about the peace and quiet coming to an end; Merry and Pippin make their presence known. Merry flops into a seat at the kitchen table, sighing loudly, and Pippin steals an apple from the basket and slips into the seat beside Merry before Frodo can smack his offending hand. Frodo grins and shakes his head.

"So, what trouble have you been getting into today?" he asks. Pippin pauses in mid-bite, shooting Frodo a greatly offended look.

"Goodness, Frodo, you act as though we're truants," he says and Frodo's lips twitch into a grin. Pippin chuckles and Merry makes a lazy grab for his apple. "Hoy!" Pippin exclaims, leaning against Merry to snatch it back. "That's mine!"

"Actually, it's mine," Frodo laughs. The tea kettle whistles pleasantly and rises to go to it, ruffling Pippin's hair as he lightly wrestles with Merry for the sake of the small red fruit. Frodo can't help but be amazed by them sometimes. They make him poignantly miss his youth.

"Well, it's mine now," Merry says, pushing at Pippin as he continues to scramble. He makes to take a bite of it, holding Pippin at arm's length. Frodo shakes his head and walks by to set the kettle on its cosy, snatching the apple from Merry as he does, crunching into the firm skin of the fruit as he does.

"Well, that was unexpected," Pippin comments, leaning hard against Merry. Merry frowns and pushes at him but he can't seem to disentangle Pippin from his present perch.

"Frodo, give me a hand, won't you?"

Frodo chuckles. "Would you like a spot of tea?"

"O, aye, I'd love a bit, myself. What about you, Merry?" Pippin asks, breathing against Merry's ear. Merry shakes and nearly upsets the entire table.

"I'd like it if you'd stop doing that, Pippin," Merry replies in a strained tone.

"Stop doing what?" Pippin questions him, grinning. He settles his arms snuggly around Merry and his cousin struggles.

"That!"

"But what's that?" Pippin urges him on.

"Pippin, this isn't time to play," Merry groans. Pippin sighs and gives Merry's cheek a tap.

"You are losing your sense of humour, cousin." Pippin laments and then slips off of where he's half-sitting upon Merry's lap, to greet the cup of tea that Frodo's set before him. "O, Frodo, you know how to make it just the way I like it." He sips and Merry tries to straighten his face. He fails and accepts his own small cup, looking into the brown depths, anywhere, Frodo notes, that's not Pippin.

There's a knock at the door. "Well, that would be Sam," he says, smiling. Pippin gives him a look but doesn't speak and Frodo heads off to the door. It is Sam, as he thought, with damp hair and fresh cheeks, dressed in crisp clean clothing.

"Hullo, Mr Frodo."

"There you are, Sam. I was just starting to think that my cousins were going to keep me all to themselves." Frodo grins and ushers Sam in.

"Well, we wouldn't want that, sir," Sam replies with a small grin of his own.

"Come now, we don't want the tea to cool."

"No, that would be a pity."

"Sam?" Frodo calls, stopping and looking to his gardener. Sam stops and looks back. The air is cooler here in the hall and Frodo feels a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "I am glad that you are here, Sam. I am glad that you..."

Sam lightly takes his hand. "Now, there's no need to go into that, sir. I'm here because I want to be. And I'll stay with you as long as I can."

There was a thought at the back of Frodo's mind; he could clearly see another place and another time, and Sam was still there. As long as I can would be a long time indeed. Frodo smiles and sighs softly.

"I worry, you know. Gandalf dragged you into this..."

"Now don't you sorry, Mr Frodo. I'm glad he can trust me. I... I'm glad you trust me, too." Sam looks down and Frodo's sure that Sam's cheeks are faintly pink. Frodo squeezes his hand.

"Thank you, Sam. I -" The sound of Pippin's giggles rises up with a strangled sort of cry from Merry. Frodo laughs and shakes his head. "Goodness, but I think that Pippin's going to be the end of poor Merry."

"Perhaps he is up so some mischief then," Sam replies thoughtfully.

"Perhaps," Frodo replies. "He's acting awfully... well, I can't really say that it's something. They'll drink all the tea if we don't hurry now."

Sam nods but they don't make to move. "Seems we don't want to leave this place, sir," Sam comments lightly.

"Seems like that," Frodo echoes softly.

"Well, I can't say that I complain." Sam murmurs. Frodo wonders what he means but then he frowns as Pippin and Merry take off down the hall, Merry after Pippin. When I get my hands on you -- and then the front door is slammed shut. Frodo sighs deeply.

"Well, they'll surely be the end of me."

"Don't you worry, sir. I'll protect you from those two," Sam's eyes are bright and he grins.

"Goodness, Sam, you give me too much," and then he laughs. Suddenly serious, he looks to Sam, who swallows a sudden lump in his throat. "Sam?"

"Aye, sir?"

"You've forgotten your bells."

Sam's lips twitch into a grin and laughter bubbles up inside him. Frodo laughs as well, thinking of how much he likes the sound of Sam's mirth, and how he likes the shape of Sam's mouth when he smiles.