A/N: Oh my, it's been along time since I've updated (Sorry Arwen, waiting on pins and needles, aren't you, dear? *just kidding*) I'm afraid my pen is faster than my keyboard!

Frodo stumbled sleepily into the kitchen just as the Gamgees began making breakfast. He was awake just enough to have gotten dressed, washed his face, combed his hair, and become hungry enough for whatever food would be set before him.

"Hullo, Mr. Frodo! Come meet my family!" Sam said, excitedly coming up and grabbing Frodo's hand. "That's Ham, he's twenty four, and Hal who's twenty, nearly your age, Mr. Frodo. And my sisters, Daisy and May, and Marigold."

They all acknowledged him with a nod or curtsie, but the two eldest girls couldn't keep their eyes off him.

"And this is my mum," Sam said, coming to his mother. "Her name's Bell."

"I'm pleased to meet you all," Frodo said, smiling. "I've heard alot about your family from my uncle." This last he said facing Mrs. Gamgee, and he didn't notice the girls straightening their aprons, and checking to make sure their hair was perfect.

Hal noticed and rolled his eyes.

"Are you hungry, Mr. Frodo?" Mrs. Gamgee asked. "I've got pancakes on the stove and I can make you an egg if you'd like."

"Pancakes sound wonderful, Mrs. Gamgee," he said with a smile.

"You missed first breakfast already, but my mum's pancakes'll make up for that, Mr. Frodo!" Sam exclaimed.

In the days that followed, Frodo was happier than he'd ever been in his life, save for one problem. He felt bad about leaving Merry like he did, but he managed to shove that aside by reminding himself that he'd see the lad at Yule.

Sam was a great help. Oh, yes, Ham and Hal were much closer his age, and they got along quite nicely, but none of them felt the connection Frodo had with little Sam. Soon the two were practically inseparable, even though Sam's Gaffer wasn't so gung-ho on the idea.

Then one day nearly two months later, Sam couldn't find Frodo at Bag End. He's searched the entire hole, and the garden. Then he decided to go to the hill atop Bag End. He saw Mr. Frodo between a group of trees, hidden to all on the road below. He appeared to be reading... and smoking a pipe.

Sam gasped quietly. He knew Mr. Frodo wasn't old enough to smoke. Ham didn't even smoke yet, and he was three years older! Sam ran back down the hill, not sure what he should do.

* * *

The kitchen door shut with a click, and Bilbo looked up from the stove where he was cooking a stew for supper. "Did you find him?" he asked, smiling cheerfully.

Sam nodded.

"Well, where is he lad?" Bilbo asked, noticing something was wrong.

"Well, Mr. Bilbo, I'm scared," he said, tears coming to his eyes. "Mr. Frodo might be angry with me if I tell you."

"Don't you worry about that. What happened?" Bilbo knelt at eye level with the lad.

"I know as how Mr. Frodo was a trouble maker where he came from, but I saw him up on the hill a moment ago, smokin' a pipe, and he ain't nearly old enough."

Bilbo raised an eye brow, wondering how in all of Middle-earth Frodo learned how to smoke. He looked back at Sam, and knew that Frodo's lack of integrity had seriously shaken the boy. "Thank you for telling me Sam. You're a brave fellow. Frodo is lucky to have a friend like you."

"Are you going to stop him?"

"Yes, lad, I will. But I don't think this is his only problem, Sam. He's got a lot to work through. But you and I will help him, won't we?"

"Yes, sir!" Sam replied enthusiastically.

* * *

Frodo entered the house just as Bilbo was done setting food on the table, a book in his hand, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Is supper ready?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"Yes lad. I hope you're hungry because I can't eat all of this by myself!" Bilbo said, rubbing his hands together.

As they ate, Frodo told his uncle about what he'd been reading that afternoon, a story about the Elves of the second age. Then after supper they both retired to the parlor, and Frodo asked, "Did Sam come by today?"

Bilbo glanced up from the book he'd been reading. "Yes, he did." He'd been waiting for Frodo to bring up the subject.

"Oh, really? I'm surprised he didn't come looking for me," Frodo said, glancing up at his uncle.

"Oh, he look for you."

Frodo looked at him with a confused expression on his face.

"And he found you." Frodo's expression turned changed quickly to an almost frantic fear. "I'm afraid he's terribly worried about you, Frodo."

Frodo stumbled upon his words. "I... I can explain..."

"Not neccisary, lad. I was young once as well, you know. I understand." He paused and frowned. "Now, I'm not going to lecture you, but I will say that you must stop, as I promised Sam you would."

Frodo nodded, looking rather pale.

"My only qualm about this whole situation is that you didn't tell me. And you didn't tell me about those horrible welts on your back."

Frodo's eyes widened. "You know about that too?"

"I'm not stupid, lad." Bilbo chuckled. "I don't like secrets in my house, unless there is a good reason to keep them. You can tell me anything and I'll still love you, Frodo. That doesn't make what you're doing right, but I won't stop loving you. That being said, do you wish to tell me about how you got those welts, and where in all of Arda you learned how to smoke?"

And so, haltingly, Frodo began to tell Bilbo the story of Farmer Maggot's farm and their crop raiding, and the dogs, and how Brend's older brother had taught him and Brend how to smoke.

"I suppose you've gotten into other kinds of trouble as well, with those kind of companions?" Bilbo said.

"Well, we've gotten into the ale once or twice, and once we set a whole lot of frogs loose during a big party at the Hall. I suppose we were slightly drink when we did that. We thought it was histerical."

"My goodness! Tweens do get in so much trouble, yet somehow they manage to turn out all right! And who instigated this?"

Frodo blushed. "I did."

"My goodness!" Bilbo repeated. "I do hope you'll apply all that cleverness and enthusiasm to your studies!"

"Of course, Uncle! You did promise to teach me Elvish," Frodo smiled now. He constantly reminded his Uncle of this.

"That I did, that I did. Only one more thing I have to say."

Frodo looked at him questioningly.

"If I find that you've gotten into my ale or wine, you'll be sleeping outside, and you'll have to deal with a hangover yourself." Bilbo smiled at the lad, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, Uncle," Frodo said, smiling back.

"Now that's settled, why don't you run down the lane and see if Sam wants to hear a story?" Bilbo suggested.

Frodo leapt up and dashed out the door.