Bilba Baggins watched the road unspool before the cart and pony and sighed in contentment. She'd agonized over going to Bree, picturing all sorts of horrible calamaties and possible bad outcomes but, in the end, the weather had been beautiful, the trip itself uneventful, and, among her many purchases, she'd gotten an amazing deal on a set of gardening tools.

All in all a good trip, even if one of her main reasons for going couldn't be accomplished until she returned home. Butterflies invaded her stomach and she felt a smile form at the thought. She was more nervous about that reason than the actual trip. Ahead the road wound over a small hill, peace, quiet and home lay just out of sight. Granted, even if her plan went perfectly, her homecoming wouldn't be ENTIRELY peaceful, she'd no doubt have to put up with a few disapproving stares. After all, it was well established that a respectable Hobbit did not go on trips, particularly if that Hobbit was a young lady, and ESPECIALLY if that Hobbit was a young lady ALONE, without an escort.

For her, though, there was only one resident whose reaction she was worried about. Even as the thought crossed her mind, the butterflies turned to nerves chewing at her intestines and she felt the smile slip off her face. What if she'd misunderstood? What if Fram was just being polite when he said he was always impressed by Belladonna Took's stories and adventurous spirit?

Her fingers tightened on the reins until her knuckles turned white. The further away from Hobbiton the more she'd been able to put the worries about her adventure out of her mind. Now, however, every step the pony took back brought her one step closer to having to face her neighbors, and Fram.

Bilba had zero adventurous spirit of her own, she was not her mother. Up to this point Bilba had left the Shire once and...that...that had not gone well. She banished the thought immediately, unwilling to go down that particular road. In any event, the point was she wasn't her mother. Fram was apparently impressed with her mother but Bilba had always felt embarrassed. Her mother never cared about what others thought of her, Bilba did. She didn't want to be labeled as odd or, worse yet, a Disturber of the Peace like her mother. She wanted to live a quiet, peaceful, life surrounded by her books, garden and, hopefully, Fram.

Fram Harfoot, the Hobbit she'd pined after for years but could never bring herself to speak to, until that fateful day she'd run into him at the marketplace.

Literally, she'd been daydreaming and utterly failed to see him until she physically bounced off him and fell in an undignified heap at his feet. Still, as mortified as she'd been, she'd spoken to him and, what's more, found out about his feelings toward her mother's antics.

And that was when her Took side, dormant her entire life, reared its head. Impressed by your mother is he? YOU could be like that, just a little bit. Then maybe, just maybe, he'd be impressed with you too! Shortly after that the idea of a very brief trip to Bree had formed. She was still shocked at herself for coming up with the plan, let alone acting it out. What sealed it even more was finding the object of her affections had a pony and cart that would be perfect for the trip and would give her a reason to go talk to him again. She'd be able to tell him she was going and thus show him she was a little like her mother, but not so much as to be labeled as anything...unnatural.

It would be enough of an adventure to hopefully shut up her Took side and it would giver her yet another excuse to see Fram when she returned and had to take the pony and cart back to him.

The only ugly part she might have to deal with would be Lobelia stopping by to make the same veiled suggestions she'd used to make about Belladonna, implying possible reasons as to WHY a young female might wish to take a trip away from her family and friends, unescorted.

Every time that woman visited it was a gamble as to whether or not Bilba finally gave in and threw her hard won respectability, and Lobelia, straight out the window. So far the only thing that had saved her was the fact her mother always insisted showing anger toward a gossip merely gave them the pleasure of knowing their words affected you.

That and the fact Fram was an entirely respectable Hobbit and probably wouldn't give her the time of day if she went and got herself labeled something nasty.

Still, all things considered, life seemed to be working out for her. The trip, in fact, had gone so well it had given birth to an amazing idea, something she never would have considered before going. Now, however, her confidence was at an all time high and she knew, just knew, she could do things she'd never so much as contemplated before.

Things like not just talking to Fram but actually inviting him to dinner.

She laughed out loud, amazed at her own audacity, and grinned so hard it was a wonder her face didn't split.

The road curved and, suddenly, there was Hobbiton laid out before her. She passed between the hedges and began the trek up toward Bag End at the top of the Hill.

"Bilba! Back from Bree are you? How did your trip go?"

Bilba looked to where Seth Proudfoot and his wife, Priscilla, stood near their home and nodded in greeting. "Great! You'll have to come by later and see what I bought."

Priscilla nodded. "We may just do that. We're glad you made it alright."

Bilba nodded again and continued on. A few more Hobbits called greetings as she went up and she cheerfully waved back. One or two made comments about worrying for her safety but there was no condemnation in their tones and, so it was, that by the time Bilba arrived at her doorstep her confidence was still exceptionally high and she was feeling quite pleased with herself. Her plan would work beautifully, she just knew it. She had quieted her Took side, would shortly be greatly impressing Fram, and had her new gardening set.

It was a really pretty gardening set.

She felt so pleased with herself, and was so engrossed in dreaming about the heaps of praise Fram would no doubt shortly shower upon her, that she utterly missed the enormous shadow that fell over her until she turned to go back outside and physically bumped into something just outside the door.

Bilba gave a startled yelp and fell back, only to have hands grab her arms and gently set her back on her feet.

"Goodness me, I'm so sorry!" Bilba said, "I'm afraid I simply wasn't paying--"

Her voice trailed off as she found herself looking up, and up, a long gray robe past a long gray beard and up to the top of a pointed hat.

"Oh no," she said without thinking, and the man raised an eyebrow.

"Oh no?" He repeated, sounding mildly amused. "Is that how you treat your mother's dearest friend after so long?"

Her mother's dearest friend and the one most responsible for the vast majority of things Belladonna did that eventually led to her being labeled a Disturber of the Peace.

Good feeling gone. The knotted feeling was back again and Bilba stumbled around the man hoping to finish unloading the cart as quickly as possible. If she could just get inside and shut the door --

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I'm afraid you've caught me at a bad time."

The man harrumphed and turned to watch her, leaning on his staff. "To think I'd live long enough to be treated so poorly by the daughter of Belladonna Took," he mused.

Bilba came to a dead stop, her back to him, and mentally cursed the man in all five languages her mother made her learn that she definitely never used as it would be considered far too unusual. He certainly knew exactly what tactic to use.

She turned, gritted her teeth, twisted her mouth into something close to a smile, and made as polite a curtsey as possible. "My apologies, Mr. Gandalf," she said through still gritted teeth, "You must be tired after your journey from..wherever you've come from." And most certainly should go back to. "Would you care to come in and have some tea?"

He studied her, his eyes piercing. After a moment it got downright uncomfortable and she looked away, down her path to where her nearest neighbor, Drogo Umbar, was watching her with narrowed eyes. Past that, and much further down, was the door leading to the home of Fram and his family. None of them were out at the moment and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Hopefully Gandalf would be long, long gone by the time any of them made an appearance. She looked back and saw Gandalf following her gaze with a knowing expression.

Gandalf nodded once. "Well, that settles it. I dare say it shall be very good for you, and most amusing for me."

And with that he turned and proceeded to walk off, back down her lane, out her gate and off in the direction leading out of Hobbiton.

Bilba was so startled she simply stared after him, her mouth slightly agape. What, in the world, was that? It took several moments to shake herself out of her shock and, by the time she did, Gandalf had already disappeared around a corner.

What was settled? What would be very good for her?

She stayed put for several long minutes but he never came back. Maybe he'd come to see if she was anything like Belladonna and, upon seeing she clearly wasn't, had given up on whatever scheme he'd concocted and left?

Yes, her mind almost hysterically supplied, yes, that must be it. He'd seen she was respectable and not at all unusual and had left her alone to go and find some other poor soul to drag off on harebrained, unexpected, adventures.

Trying to shake off her nerves, Bilba rushed to get the rest of her items in, all joy in their purchase gone. No doubt this was her punishment for trying to act so un-Hobbit like, even if it was just to try and impress Fram. If only she'd stayed put like a good Hobbit none of this would have happened.

All she needed was for Gandalf to show up, now of all times, just when things were starting to go her way, and start sowing chaos again. Before she knew it the rumors would start up, and her carefully crafted reputation would be ruined.

As would any chance she might have had with the Hobbit who was clearly the love of her life, even if he didn't know it yet.

She grabbed the bridle of the pony and led him down the steep slope to the bottom of the hill. Once there she belatedly realized she'd just come from a long, and very dusty, journey and quickly took a moment to smack the dust off her traveling clothes, as well as try her best to tame her unruly hair. She should have gotten cleaned up before coming but Gandalf had so unsettled her she'd acted without thinking. She could always go back, it wasn't like anyone had noticed her yet --

The door opened and Bilba's entire face flushed bright red as Fram Harfoot stepped outside.

"Ah, Bilba! Back from Bree already are you?"

Bilba, if possible, flushed even redder, one hand fisting in the fabric of her skirt. Curse Gandalf for confusing her and causing her to come down here without getting cleaned up first. For the first time she wished desperately she'd learned more languages, just so she could curse the man in all of those as well.

"I am," she said, trying to sound cheery and flirtatious, "and so is your horse and cart, safe and sound as promised."

Fram nodded and stepped forward to take the offered reins. He stood just a little taller than her, with a rotund build perfect for a Hobbit, and shiny, black hair. He always dressed conservatively in brown trousers, white shirt and vest, and kept the hair on his feet neatly trimmed.

Bilba often envied him, her own hair so difficult she kept it almost scandously short, and she constantly forgot to trim the hair on her feet. She did TRY to eat enough to look like a proper Hobbit but her mother's insistence on sword fighting, and Bilba's attempts to keep it up to honor her, left her far leaner than a truly respectable Hobbit would be.

Not that she ever practiced swordfighting in public of course. Fram would never give her the time of day and neither would any other Hobbit.

His fingers brushed against hers as she transferred the pony and Bilba felt her heart jump, and wondered if Fram's did too. She definitely knew she'd never wash that hand again, EVER.

"Thank you again for letting me borrow them," she said, struggling to get the next part out as she'd rehearsed thousands of times on the way home. "I was hoping you'd do me the honor of allowing me to cook dinner for you tonight? It's the least I can do, to show my gratitude."

She held her breath, fingers pulling at the fabric of her skirt so much it was a wonder she didn't tear a gaping hole in it.

Fram smiled. "Why, I'd be honored! Are you sure it's alright, though? You did just get back. I'm sure you must be exhausted."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all!" Bilba all but shrieked, happiness exuding from every pore. It was all she could do to not start turning cartwheels in the grass. "I look forward to seeing you."

He nodded and turned away, and Bilba all but skipped away, wearing a grin so big she was sure her face would crack.

Fram hadn't known she existed before she wanted to borrow his pony and cart and now he was coming over for dinner! Life could not possibly go any better.

Bilba rushed home and tore through the front door. It vaguely occurred to her that she'd left the door opened when she'd headed out, and now it was closed, but the thought soon vanished from her mind in light of her excitement.

It was just before noon which gave her an insanely short time in which to prepare. It would have been better to wait another day or so but she'd been waiting years already, now was the time to ACT.

The rest of the day was spent cleaning, racing to the market, and cooking.

By the time dinner arrived, Bilba was nearly dead on her feet, but looked perfectly respectable. Well, almost perfectly respectable, there was only so much she could do with her hair but she'd dug out the ribbons and fripperies some relation or another had given her years ago and put them on the best she could. She'd also pulled out her best dress and, even better, had a feast laid out that would put to shame all those blockheaded girls who kept mooning over Fram every time he walked by.

She wasn't sure what his favorite food was, so she'd erred on the side of caution and prepared it all. There was fish, chicken, and roast pork, ripe tomatoes, mushrooms, carrots, and some she didn't even know the name of but thought they looked good. Puddings and jams and desserts, and at least five varieties of soup lined the table, the counters and even the tops of nearby cabinets. The weight of it caused her table to sag just a bit in the middle and Bilba chewed on her lip in distress, hoping it would hold.

A knock sounded on the door.

Bilba jumped, her heart leaping in her chest. Suddenly nervous, she shook her arms out to try and loosen up, bounced on her toes a few times, and let out a deep breath. Then, she straightened her back, smoothed her dress and hair one last time, and walked to the door.

Another heavy knock sounded and she bit back a grin, thrilled at the fact Fram was apparently so impatient to see her.

She grabbed the doorknob, took one last deep breath, and threw open the door.

To find herself face to face with the most massive Dwarf she'd ever seen.

Bilba's greeting died in her throat and she stared at him, her mind entirely short circuited.

He, in turn, took in her small frame, and gave a grunt of derision.

"You have got to be joking."

And the only thought Bilba could conjure was she certainly hoped someone was.