The hobbits entered. Four of them, altogether. Grissom eyed them warily.
Not only were they half his height, but the larger one stood suspiciously
close to the valiant-looking one, and the other two were curled over in
fits of giggles. He gestured to Sara.
"What do you notice about them?" He questioned Sara with something of a devilish grin, displaying plainly his smug superiority. Sara looked at him sideways.
"What, you mean besides the fact that the shortest one is the cutest thing I've ever seen?" Grissom's smile vanished. Sara grinned at him. "What were you thinking?" Grissom cleared his throat.
"I was thinking, what are four pint-sized people doing in a human bar at this time of night?"
"Having a drink.?"
"Sara, do you really believe that they'd give up the warm safety of their homes to come out and have a drink at a human bar? They don't do that. Not in winter."
"Oh, yeah? And how can you be so sure?"
"I used to be a pint-sized person."
A man strode up to Grissom, his many capes billowing out behind him.
"Why, what manly stubble you have there. You must be Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I've heard about you." Aragorn looked mildly startled before returning his face to its more usual, courageous-yet-vacant stare.
"Yes, well, I'm looking for my companions, an elf and a dwarf, perhaps you've seen them." Grissom sighed, morose.
"I'm sorry, but we suspect that your companions have been the victims of a vicious murder, not so far from here." Aragorn looked up, trying his best to furrow his brow.
"I'm sorry?" Grissom indicated to Aragorn.
"Could you step this way please."
Elsewhere, Nick and Warrick were examining an abandoned block of wood upon which they had happened.
"You think it's relevant?"
"Sure I do." Nick pointed. "Right there, you can see the indentations are uneven, a sure sign that something was dragged across this in the past, oh, two months." Warrick raised an eyebrow.
"Right dude."
"What?!"
Merry and Pippin were giggling at their attempts to slash Nick and Warrick when Catherine approached the hobbits' table.
"I'm looking for a Mr Frodo Baggins?"
"That'd be me."
"Do you know a crime's been committed?" Frodo looked up, his eyes blue and soulful.
"I can't say I do, what has happened?" He was patting his pocket subconsciously. Catherine looked pointedly at Merry and Pippin and they reluctantly moved over.
"An elf named Legolas and a dwarf named Gimli were found dead here earlier today. I've been told you had some connection to them, something to do with a quest for a guy in some robes about a ring?" Sam rolled his eyes.
"I like to think it's a little more complicated than that. You see, Mr Frodo he-?
"Sir? I'm talking to Mr Baggins here. Tell you what, why don't you and your friends wait here a while, while I talk to him alone, OK?"
"But Mr Frodo!"
Frodo felt edgy around Catherine. She looked directly into his eyes. He'd never come across a human able to do that before (the fangirls hardly counted, they'd only seen pictures of him. That hardly compared to coming up against the full brute force of bottomless blue that was his eyes).
"This comes as somewhat of a shock, I must say." Frodo said at last.
"Yes, well, murder usually does." Frodo twitched. "Listen, do you know something? Were you somehow mixed up in a, a drug ring or any kind of organised crime?" Frodo looked up sharply.
"What are you saying?"
"You mentioned a ring."
"No you mentioned a ring." He shifted his eyes. He felt agitated under her constant eye.
"You're agitated." Frodo could tell she was an adept investigator.
"What do you notice about them?" He questioned Sara with something of a devilish grin, displaying plainly his smug superiority. Sara looked at him sideways.
"What, you mean besides the fact that the shortest one is the cutest thing I've ever seen?" Grissom's smile vanished. Sara grinned at him. "What were you thinking?" Grissom cleared his throat.
"I was thinking, what are four pint-sized people doing in a human bar at this time of night?"
"Having a drink.?"
"Sara, do you really believe that they'd give up the warm safety of their homes to come out and have a drink at a human bar? They don't do that. Not in winter."
"Oh, yeah? And how can you be so sure?"
"I used to be a pint-sized person."
A man strode up to Grissom, his many capes billowing out behind him.
"Why, what manly stubble you have there. You must be Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I've heard about you." Aragorn looked mildly startled before returning his face to its more usual, courageous-yet-vacant stare.
"Yes, well, I'm looking for my companions, an elf and a dwarf, perhaps you've seen them." Grissom sighed, morose.
"I'm sorry, but we suspect that your companions have been the victims of a vicious murder, not so far from here." Aragorn looked up, trying his best to furrow his brow.
"I'm sorry?" Grissom indicated to Aragorn.
"Could you step this way please."
Elsewhere, Nick and Warrick were examining an abandoned block of wood upon which they had happened.
"You think it's relevant?"
"Sure I do." Nick pointed. "Right there, you can see the indentations are uneven, a sure sign that something was dragged across this in the past, oh, two months." Warrick raised an eyebrow.
"Right dude."
"What?!"
Merry and Pippin were giggling at their attempts to slash Nick and Warrick when Catherine approached the hobbits' table.
"I'm looking for a Mr Frodo Baggins?"
"That'd be me."
"Do you know a crime's been committed?" Frodo looked up, his eyes blue and soulful.
"I can't say I do, what has happened?" He was patting his pocket subconsciously. Catherine looked pointedly at Merry and Pippin and they reluctantly moved over.
"An elf named Legolas and a dwarf named Gimli were found dead here earlier today. I've been told you had some connection to them, something to do with a quest for a guy in some robes about a ring?" Sam rolled his eyes.
"I like to think it's a little more complicated than that. You see, Mr Frodo he-?
"Sir? I'm talking to Mr Baggins here. Tell you what, why don't you and your friends wait here a while, while I talk to him alone, OK?"
"But Mr Frodo!"
Frodo felt edgy around Catherine. She looked directly into his eyes. He'd never come across a human able to do that before (the fangirls hardly counted, they'd only seen pictures of him. That hardly compared to coming up against the full brute force of bottomless blue that was his eyes).
"This comes as somewhat of a shock, I must say." Frodo said at last.
"Yes, well, murder usually does." Frodo twitched. "Listen, do you know something? Were you somehow mixed up in a, a drug ring or any kind of organised crime?" Frodo looked up sharply.
"What are you saying?"
"You mentioned a ring."
"No you mentioned a ring." He shifted his eyes. He felt agitated under her constant eye.
"You're agitated." Frodo could tell she was an adept investigator.