I should be updating my other story, The Fellowship's Bliss, but I seem to have struck a brick wall there. Here is a random tangent that just came up in my mind. There just aren't enough Sméagol stories out there, in my opinion. Please review and let me know if I need to continue.

Chapter One:

Sméagol ducked under a bush, persued. He clutched his treasure to his chest, hoping not to get caught. He hated running; he hated hiding.

He looked around. The coast seemed clear, he decided. He'd be fine, wouldn't he?

He peeked out from behind the bush, and was greeted by a stealthy smack to the head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, looking up at the triumphant face of Belladore, who was wielding a very dangerous-looking soup ladle.

"Confound it all, Belladore Brindle!" he near-yelled, rubbing the spot on the top of his head where she'd hit him.

"You idiot, quit rubbing your head. You're getting blueberries in your hair." she crossed her arms and smirked at him.

When he'd hid under the bush, he'd managed to smash the pie, without thinking. There was blueberry juice and bits of crust all over his shirt and hands.

"I wouldn't have to rub my head if you hadn't hit me." he threw back.

"Well, if you hadn't tried to run off with my blueberry pie---"

"I couldn't help it, Belladore. It was calling to me." he said, and smugly began to lick his fingers. "I love your cooking. And anyway, who leaves pies on windowsills? That's asking for it."

"Maybe you need to learn a thing or two about self-control. Then again, I suppose I could have let it cool in a more unreachable place." she said, and offered a hand to him.

He took it, and stood up.

"Why was the pie so important, anyway, Belly? Who was it for?"

"For nobody." she replied stubbornly. "Mind your own business, Sméagol."

She suspiciously peered around the bush, wielding her ladle.

Sméagol laughed a little. Belladore was so silly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for Deagol." she said, bending back branches. "You're in trouble. He's bound to be around here somewhere."

"No, he's left me to terrorize the village all by myself today." Sméagol said, trying to sound as if he didn't care.

"Some cousin." Belladore remarked, taking out her handkerchief and trying to clean Sméagol up.

"It isn't like that. He loves Lena, is all. Can you blame him for wanting to spend time with her? Even I have to admit that her company is infinitely better than mine, what with her feminine assets." he grinned suggestively.

"Want me to throttle you again?" Belladore asked seriously, and Sméagol dropped it.

"You never answered my question, Belly." he said, loosing some of his easy cheer. "Who was the pie for?"

She blushed, turning red all the way to her hairline.

"Ah. So it was for Mirlon." he said, shaking his head. "The guy has no idea how lucky he is."

"Sméagol, stop." she turned even more red.

"How do you know that he even likes blueberries?" Sméagol asked.

"I happen to know that blueberries are his favorite." she said, indignant, and gave up on trying to clean him up. Yet another one of his shirts was ruined.

"Your mother is going to be furious." she said.

"Don't try and change the subject."

"Sméagol, I don't want to talk about this.""You shouldn't like him, you know." he said.

"And why not?" she asked.

He glanced at her ladle, and decided that she might not hit him if he kept talking.

"Because he's not good enough for you, that's why not."

She rolled her eyes.

"And just who is it around here that's good enough to win Sméagol's approval?" she asked sarcastically.

"I--" he sighed. "I don't know. But not Mirlon. He's just creepy."

"Sméagol!" she scolded.

"Well, it's true. He's all pale, and he's too skinny. And there's just something downright eerie about his eyes."

"I suppose his eyes are a little odd." Belladore frowned.

"A little odd?" Sméagol huffed. "He looks like a fish…or a frog."

"That's enough." Belladore said, but couldn't help a small smile. Her mother had said all the very same things to her this morning.

"Why do you care so much, anyway? About who I go courting with?"

Sméagol froze. He hadn't been expecting that.

"That isn't fair, Belladore. I'm the one who asks the questions around here." he said with a smirk.

She stuck out her tongue at him, and they both laughed.

"Come on, Smeag." she said. "I have another pie at home."

"Blueberry?" he asked.

"Blackberry." she replied with a smile.

Sméagol smiled back. Blackberry was his favorite, and Belladore knew it.

Please review! Should I continue?