A/N: Written for a shirebunny that followed me around until I wrote it. Beware, much silliness. Mmm…pasta. 

~Pasta~

Sam looked skeptically at the strange food piled on his plate. The red sauce smelled delicious, mixed with some sort of ground meat, but what it was poured over was making at least three of the hobbits question whether they still had an appetite.

“Looks too much like worms to me,” Merry said, watching as Pippin twirled some on his fork.

“Try it!” Pippin urged. “It’s really good, and the cook mixed mushrooms in the sauce just for us.”

“What is it?” Sam questioned, still eyeing the strings of…whatever it was, suspiciously.

“It’s called ‘pasta’ and they make it from flour. Beregond introduced me to it after the War ended, while I was stuck in bed,” Pippin replied, shoving a forkful of it in his mouth and getting red sauce in his chin. “Try it!”

“I think I’ll pass,” Frodo said, his face turning a little green.

Sam touched it with his fork, then said, “Me too.”

Pippin looked to Merry, who shoved the plate in his direction.

“But I want the mushroom part!” Merry said, snatching the plate back.

“Honestly I thought you were all braver than this!” Pippin exclaimed, giggling. He gave Merry a challenging look, and saw Frodo laughing behind his hand in spite of the sick feeling in his stomach.

Merry never could turn down a challenge from his younger cousin. He glanced down at the plate, then took one small hesitant bite.

Frodo’s smile disappeared and Sam backed away so as to be out of range, should Merry’s stomach revolt against the new dish. Hobbit stomachs weren’t used to different foods.

But Merry didn’t react the way they’d expected. “’T isn’t bad,” he stated, taking another bite.

“I knew you’d come around!” Pippin said with an impish grin. “Try some,” he said, shoving Sam’s plate back at him. “You too, Frodo!”

“Frodo won’t like it, Pip,” Merry said, seeing Frodo’s green expression. “You know he doesn’t like the taste of mushrooms,” he teased.

Frodo glanced at his cousin. “You’re trying to tempt me to eat it,” he said, bluntly. “I love mushrooms.”

Sam managed a bite, then murmured, “Not bad.”

Frodo shook his head. “I’m not eating it.”

“Fine,” Pippin said. “You don’t have to eat it. But you have to stay and watch us eat it.”

“I’m not sure which is worse,” he said, handing Pippin a napkin and making sure he got all the sauce off his chin.

Pippin shrugged. “It’s really messy. It’s not my fault.”

They sat in silence as they ate. Pippin noticed Frodo absently playing with the noodles with his fork. Then Frodo asked, “What’s it called again?” He lifted the fork to examine it.

“It’s called pasta,” Pippin replied.

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Frodo said, sticking the fork in his mouth. “Pasta, hmm?” he said, after swallowing.

“Good, huh?” Pippin urged.

Frodo nodded in defeat.

~The End~