TITLE: Dances With Uncles
AUTHOR: Tinuviel's Song

Disclaimer: I do not own Frodo, Bilbo, The Springle-Ring, or anything else Lord of the Rings-related, for that honor is bestowed upon only one man, the great and powerful Oz- er, Tolkien!
SUMMARY: Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out!
RATING: G
CHARACTERS: Bilbo, Frodo
SPOILERS: Not much, if you didn't know diddlysquat about LotR, already…
NOTES: This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

Chap. 1: The Madness of Bilbo

It was a typically chilly morning on the 29th of Blotmath, 1392, when a twenty-four-year-old Frodo Baggins awoke to see a profusely wrinkled face grinning widely at him. Startled, Frodo shot out of bed and bolted across the room, nearly tripping over the numerous books and items of clothing lying on the floor as he ran. He took a mental note to clean up his room after the psycho was done killing him.

As Frodo looked back cautiously at his grinning intruder, he realized that it was only his 'uncle', Bilbo. 'O! Uncle, you startled me. I could've sworn you were some dastardly troll, ready to chop me up into a million pieces with a nice, sharp rock and cook me in a stew!' Frodo breathed, clutching his pounding heart. Bilbo chuckled merrily.

'Well, I don't much appreciate being called a troll, but I do apologize for alarming you, lad.' Bilbo said, another big grin creeping across his face. Frodo nodded quietly and smiled a molecular smile.

A thick silence fell upon them for a long, drawn-out moment. Bilbo began rocking back and forth on his heels (a nervous habit of his), the floorboards creaking, and Frodo looked about the room offhandedly, humming an unknown tune. After standing in silence for what seemed like forever and a week, Frodo put an end to his one-hobbit symphony to give a sigh.

'So…' Frodo said slowly, picking a piece of unseen lint from his nightshirt. 'Why exactly did you wake me in such a peculiar manner, might I ask?'

'Well,' Bilbo said, clearing his throat rather noisily and taking a step forward. 'As you know, Yule is not long away…'

'Yes… I know…' Frodo said in a 'Come on, pick up the pace!' tone.

'…And you still haven't learned to dance. Every year, it's the same thing: You sit in some lone chair and watch the others as they dance and chat amongst themselves. Well, there'll be no more of that. How do you expect to meet new people, woo a lass when you can't even dance with them? I've even heard that Miss Gypsophila Chubb has her eye on you.' Frodo went red. Gypsophila (usually called "Gypsy") was the prettiest girl in the Shire, as far as he was concerned, and hearing that she fancied him was like being told that he'd just won a million dollars. How Bilbo acquired this information of Frodo liking her is unknown, since Frodo never even spoke of her to Bilbo.

'Sh- She does?' Frodo stammered, his blue eyes growing so wide that you would think they would pop like over-inflated balloons if they became any bigger.

'Why, of course she does, you lady-slayer.' Bilbo teased playfully, elbowing Frodo's arm. Frodo flushed three shades of red. Bilbo was lying a bit by saying that Frodo had her eye on Frodo (she was, in fact, not interested in anyone at the moment). He was also lying by saying that everyone could dance at the parties, but he was on a roll, so he decided to continue. 'And I bet she wonders why you never want to dance with her during parties. She probably thinks you're slighting her. You wouldn't want to break the poor lass's heart, now, would you?' Bilbo pouted.

N- No, Uncle.' Frodo stammered, shaking his head so hard that his curly mop of hair slapped the sides of his face. '…Who is to teach me to dance?' He found himself asking before he could stop himself.

'Why, that would be me, Frodo, m'lad!' Bilbo exclaimed chipperly.

"O, chestnuts!" Frodo thought as his heart sank to a place far below his stomach. 'Wh… Wha… Whi… Who…' Frodo babbled, horrified at the idea of dancing with his older cousin.

'That's right, and we start tomorrow morning.' Bilbo announced chirpily, walking briskly out of the room and yelling halfway down the hall that breakfast would soon be ready to eat.

Frodo let out an exhausted 'uhg!', falling backwards onto his bed with such force that his comforter floated over him on both sides and formed a simulation of a red, fuzzy cocoon. "O, chestnuts!"

Um… Yeah… I was bored an' hyper at 11:00 at night, so I wrote this, especially for YOU, Fwe! bg I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Leave a review and I'll give you more to read (if you liked it, at least).