'Right,' wheezed Bofur, as they legged it down the street. 'Let's go down to the docks, blend in for a moment, then double back.'

'What about me?' Bilbo asked. 'Not to sound classist, but you don't see a lot of hobbits at the docks, I don't think.'

They stopped at the corner to catch their breath, and Bofur tugged off his odd hat, and shoved it onto Bilbo's head. 'Pull up your coat collar – you can pass for a short dwarf if no-one noticed your feet. People around here generally don't want to see what they're stepping into.'

'What do you mean – oh.' Yeah, he definitely wasn't looking down again anytime soon.

The three of them shuffled down an alleyway and down a second street until they reached the smell of rotting seaweed and salt and the unpleasant smell of all the dreadful things people can think of doing to fish. Here there was something of a crowd, and Bofur nodded at several people; a few dwarves, several humans and even one goblin. The goblin, when he noticed Bifur, gave a hurried sort of salute and then scurried away.

'What was that all about?' Bilbo muttered.

'Oh, you know how it is. My cousin's a bit notorious in the realms of underground fighting and since an overzealous goblin challenger lodged a pickaxe in his brain they've all been a bit terrified of him.'

'Sorry, he got a pickaxe in his head and it's him they're afraid of? Not the one that put it there?'

'Well, no. He isn't very scary these days. I understand he's almost on solid food by now and can even walk quite well with a stick.'

Feeling a bit queasy, Bilbo kept mum for the rest of the walk, until Bofur said something indiscernible to Bifur, who answered in the same fashion, and they changed courses, sauntering casually up the slightly more appealing streets of the outer city. Eventually, they reached a completely nondescript house opposite a Haradrim takeout shop. Bilbo had to admit that at least it was better than the warehouse, and said so.

'Oh, we've got a bunch more,' said Bofur. 'Thorin's practically manic for planning this kind of stuff.' Then he looked momentarily guilty for some reason, but it flitted across his face so quickly that Bilbo couldn't be sure he hadn't imagined it. Bofur knocked a complicated set of something that was probably code, and the door opened immediately, revealing Mister Grey, who hurriedly gestured them inside.

The majority of the company were sitting on chairs and sofas of whom not a single one matched, but Thorin was standing by the window, just so that he could see outside but not be seen himself.

'They're here!' Kili rose from his seat, his brother following.

'You're late,' Dwalin scowled.

'Wanted to make sure we'd lost anyone tailing us,' said Bofur easily. 'Everyone here?'

'You three were last,' said Dori.

'Excellent.' Mister Grey rubbed his hands together. 'Now that we are all here, we can discuss our first move.'

'Which is not going to be arranging a meeting with Elrond,' said Thorin firmly, turning away from the window.

Mister Grey's patience seemed about to run out. 'Then what do you suggest we do?'

'Contact some of your other informants. Edwards, Wesley, someone.'

'They all died some time ago, Thorin.' Mister Grey gave him a look that was somewhat pitying. 'Men don't last as long as you do.' He sighed at Thorin's stony expression. 'Look, the only informants I have with enough security clearance to know anything about where Alder keeps the information we need are elven, and Elrond is the one most likely to lend a hand. He doesn't like what Smaug did any more than we do.'

'Then he should have done something when he had the chance.'

'You know he didn't have the power. No-one did. Perhaps, had you deigned to ask for his help, things might have turned out differently. But speculation is useless, what is important is now.'

Thorin was silent for a long while, and the room held its breath (well, the people inside it did, at any rate.) At last he said, 'Fine. But do not expect me to be civil.'

Mister Grey smiled drily. 'You never are.'

As it turned out, he was exactly and completely right.

'Pray tell, why do you need this information?' The tall, imperious elf asked from the seat behind his desk.

'Is that any of your business?' Thorin looked like he'd been forced to eat a particularly sour lemon, and his mood wasn't any better. Grumpily, he took a gulp of his coffee.

'Since you're asking me for the information, and it I who decide whether I give it to you or not… Yes, I'm fairly certain it is.'

There may have been a desk involved, but of all places to put one, they were outside, sitting by a table in the midst of what could only be described as a veritable forest of trees, shrubs and miscellaneous plants. In reality, it was the back garden of the estate belonging to Elrond. Bilbo liked a bit of greenery himself, but doing your taxes in a jungle seemed a bit much, even for him.

Even with most of the dwarves not on their best behaviour, Elrond had been quite a gracious host, and there would be a buffet table waiting for them once the discussion was over. Seeing how their main negotiator was acting it seemed dinner wouldn't be long. And a good thing too, Bilbo thought. After all, they'd never had the time to eat anything due to the troll fiasco.

Mister Grey hurriedly butted in. 'Nothing serious, just a bit of essential research, really.' Playing it safe, Bilbo thought. Good, good.

'And what for?'

'Oh, we intend to break into a certain company's most secure vaults, empty them completely, split the fee, essentially go home rich.'

There was a crash. Nori had fallen off his chair.

Thorin was gripping his mug hard, and Bilbo could see the cracks forming around the handle and spreading out like a spider's web. 'What was that about being diplomatic, again?' He ground out between his teeth.

'I changed my mind.'

Elrond took off his spectacles, and leaned forward across the desk. 'Gandalf, I have known you for a very long time and generally trusted your judgement, so I hope you know I mean no disrespect when I tell you that you are out of your mind.'

Looking far too innocent, Mister Grey shrugged. 'What would give you such an idea?'

'Because the only companies worth hitting with such a plan and with a team this big are the richest ones, located on the City main street, i.e. the ones with the best and most dangerous security measures. They can't be broken into.'

'It's never been tried,' Mister Grey continued, brazenly.

Elrond scoffed. 'Of course it's been tried. Some idiots will not accept the impossible for what it is. And do you know why you never hear about it? It's because if anyone heard about it, it would be bad for those companies' interests, so they, how do you put it, 'take care of it' before word gets out.'

'So you are in no way amenable to offering your assistance?'

'No way whatsoever. Look, I won't tell anyone what you're planning, but I have my own interests to protect.'

Thorin's scowl probably couldn't deepen much more, but it was obvious what he was thinking. This was a waste of time.

'Well,' Mister Grey stood up from his seat, but while the dwarves followed suit, Bilbo hesitated. He didn't seem all that put-out by the rejection.

Elrond, on the other hand, looked slightly intrigued. 'Although, just so I know what to deny knowledge of, which company are you preparing to hit?'

Mister Grey glanced at Thorin, as if trying to recall at just what venue they were going to risk their lives and reputation. 'The Lonely Mountain Tech company.'

Elrond's expression didn't actually change, or freeze, but now his gaze was trained directly at the scarecrow man. A hush fell over the clearing-slash-office. Finally his eyes narrowed. 'You sly old beggar.'

'I'm sure I have no idea what you mean.'

Everyone else looked back and forth between them, completely bewildered by the discussion taking place. At last Elrond said, 'I've changed my mind.'

'Very gracious off you.'

'Why?' The question seemed unexpected, and yet again Bilbo found that it was him who had asked it.

Elrond gave him a shrewd look. 'Let us just say that I, too, would benefit from the company… Being inconvenienced. I assume I am correct that this is intervention for the CEO's transgression against you a few decades ago?' This was directed at Thorin, and by extension the other dwarves.

He only replied, 'Yes.'

'Hm. Well, I invite your associates to move on to dinner while we discuss terms. Is that acceptable?' The complete and utter lack of sarcasm made the implication of it even more obvious, and Thorin just nodded.

The dwarves, clearly cajoled by the promise of food, enthusiastically left the lively office, which was sinking into twilight, lights turning on and drawing in moths to circle around their luminance. As they were almost out of sight, Bilbo could hear Thorin say quietly to Mister Grey, 'Let us hope you know what you're doing.'

Gandalf didn't answer.

He probably wasn't supposed to be enjoying himself, Kili thought.

Okay, so the food was something you wouldn't give a rabbit and the music was pretty watery, but the view, well…

He winked at the elf playing the harp (how did Elrond have the money to pay for a freaking dinner-quartet?), then felt his ears start to turn red when Dwalin's wholly unimpressed stare drilled through his skull.

'Can't say I fancy these elf women with their lack of beards and awfully pale complexion. Not to mention how freakishly huge they are,' he said, drowning his expression of panic in a glass of vine. Dwalin just grunted, but is still staring at him.

'That one's okay, though,' he said, gesturing at a more broad-shouldered elf serving wine several seats over.

Bofur, who was sitting next him, looks up and squints. 'I don't think that's a lady, lad.'

Kili turned in his seat. 'What, really?' Then he shrugged. 'I stand by my earlier words.' At which point Fili caused a commotion by tipping over a candlestick, setting the nearest tower of origami cranes on fire.

After everyone was done admonishing his brother, Kili used the chance to change the subject, and turned to Mister Boggins (he knows it's really Baggins, it was just fun seeing the look on his face when he never quite corrected him.) 'So, the way you roasted those trolls earlier? That was amazing. How did you even think that up?'

Bilbo looked faintly embarrassed, and muttered, 'Well, frankly it wouldn't have worked unless Mister Grey had turned up the furnace. Trolls are really susceptible to temperature change. I mean, they aren't actually stupid; they just evolved in much, much colder climates, um, which is why they get a bit slow in the lowlands.'

Kili blinked. 'Huh. Didn't actually know that, better file it away in case it becomes useful. So you didn't actually, you know, burn them to death or something?'

Bilbo looked appalled. 'No! I would never do something like that!'

'What, not even if they were threatening your life?'

He straightened up in his seat, primly. 'I am a pacifist, thank you very much.'

Huh. Kili stared at the table top for a moment before replying, maybe even jokingly, 'You lucky bastard.' Then he nudged Bofur. 'So are we going to talk about when our burglar literally scaled a troll, or did everyone forget about that?'

Bofur said something indistinct through a mouthful of food, and Bifur grunted something in Khuzdul. Kili nodded. 'You've got that right.'

'Sorry, what did he say?' said Bilbo, who was looking increasingly more uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

'That someone who will climb a charging troll won't have any trouble with the Dragon.'

'The Dragon? Oh, you mean Smaug. I've always wondered why he's called that, to be honest.'

Bofur, who had finally managed to swallow whatever he'd been chewing, held up a finger. 'That one's easy. You know how Sir Elven McFancypants over there said earlier that the big corporations take care of their own business?'

Bilbo looked vary. 'Yes?'

'Well, word has it that some mad genius somehow made it into the firm, and even got outside with whatever he tried to steal, but he got caught because he didn't have an escape plan. Probably never expected to get that far. So Smaug has him brought to his private airplane hangar, puts the poor bloke down behind a jet engine, turns the whole thing on and he's a pile of ash before you can say 'extra crispy.''

Kili swallowed. Even though he had heard the story before, it still made him queasy. Bilbo didn't seem much better off either. 'Well. I think I may be sick.'

Bofur shrugged. 'Can't deny it's a good name. Very accurate.'

'So that's, ah, that's what awaits us if we don't succeed?'

'Ach, no. There's plenty of ways we can fail before he'd bother havin' us roasted. We might not get in and get shot, or we might get discovered before we get a chance to get in and get shot, or we get in but get caught and get shot, or we almost get to the vaults and they catch us and throw us off the roof, or –'

'Yes, fine, I've got it, thanks.' Bilbo looked grim. 'That's not very reassuring.'

'Well…' There was a note of shrewdness in the corner of Bofur's eye that Kili seldom saw there. 'Guess we better succeed.'

Later, when they've been ushered into the mansion's spare rooms (there were like fifty or something, how rich was this guy) because negotiations weren't about to stop anytime soon and they might as well stay, Kili elbowed his brother in the ribs. 'Thanks for having my back.'

'Yeah, yeah, just make sure Uncle doesn't notice your little elf fetish,' Fili replied in what should probably have been a derogatory tone, but was instead teasing.

Kili shoved him. 'It's not a fetish. Shut up.'

'Great comeback, and I definitely didn't see you wink at the one on the harp. You're luck Dwalin didn't notice that particular discretion, or you might be even worse off than if uncle saw you.'

Kili thought on that for a moment. 'No. Uncle would be worse.'

His brother's expression sobered. 'Yeah, probably.' Then he brightened up and reached over and ruffled Kili's hair. 'Not to worry, we'll find you a nice dwarf with a proper beard and everything in no time.'

Kili snorted. 'Yeah, good luck with that.'

That night, in a bed that was too big and not his and with sheets that were too soft and nothing like the quilts littering his room like dropped newspapers, Bilbo couldn't sleep. The darkness – which was brighter than in the suburbs, where there wasn't constant traffic and light pollution although to be honest it was probably worse outside of Elrond's massive estate – wasn't his darkness. It was a ridiculous thing to complain about, he was well aware. And this was a wonderful place, but there was nothing familiar except what he brought with him, and there was precious little of that.

For pity's sake, he thought. You are a grown hobbit in your fifties. Stop acting like a teen at his first sleepover.

It didn't work, so he put on his jumper and his shoes (he hadn't taken off the rest since he didn't have anything else to sleep in) and snuck his way through the looming hallways with their freakishly huge furniture and elven interior decoration. He really didn't want to endorse stereotypes, but there was just something about the whole house that screamed elven! and it didn't even do so subtly. Okay, so you could chalk a lot of it up to different cultures, but it was still just odd how different the living conditions between the races were, and often financially so.

There were a few strategically placed guards littered around the estate. Bilbo knew that Elrond would probably refer to them as 'assistants,' but he was obviously a man - uh, elf - who hadn't lived to whatever age he was by not being pleasantly paranoid. But Bilbo slipped by them easily (which either meant that he's in better shape than he thought or that elven super-hearing was a myth) and wondered if he should tell Elrond about the gaps in his security.

When he arrived outside, he found a gravel path to trace and it was pleasant to walk on something more natural than the asphalt of the inner city or (lords forbid) whatever unfortunately natural things that littered it. There was a slight breeze and almost unconsciously he moved with the swaying shadows of the trees so as to keep himself out of sight and not give some poor guard a stroke and, more importantly, so that poor guard wouldn't stab him or something.

The moonlight didn't do much to illuminate his path, but the lights from the rest of the city did the job. At least the scenery was pleasant. Maybe he should consider hiring whoever did Elrond's shrubberies.

So lost in trying not to think too hard about the situation in which he had gotten himself, he almost did not notice the sound of voices until he was right on top of them. He came to a halt and identified the voices as Elrond and Mister Grey. Apparently they were still talking terms. No, wait… Thorin's voice was noticeably absent, and this was nowhere near the office where they had left them earlier. A private conversation?

'I know that this is important to you, old friend, but you have to realize I am hesitant to put all my resources in one basket.' This was Elrond, and he sounded tired and somewhat weary.

'But please realize that Smaug's new hierarchy doesn't just threaten these dwarves specifically; it threatens all of their kind and frankly, everyone else as well,' replied Mister Grey in a much more agitated tone than Bilbo had heard from him before.

'Of course I know that. That's why I'm not too thrilled to oppose him.'

In a wry voice practically designed to ignite argument, Mister Grey said, 'I suppose I must congratulate you on your sense of self-preservation.'

Bilbo could see them now, distantly, and how Elrond did an almost complete turnaround to face him. 'I have tried. Do you know what he did when I tried to move in on his corner of the market a few years ago? Suddenly one of my aides dies in a car accident, seemingly perfectly normal and then I run into him and he offered his condolences. And I could see it on his face, Gandalf. If I didn't stop what I was doing it would be worse next time. He threatened my family.'

There was a brief pause. 'I am sorry, my friend.'

Now Elrond did not just sound tired, but almost old. 'I cannot have any of this trace back to me. If any of my children… I don't know what I would do.'

'I promise you that won't happen.'

'Can you? Because I'm not sure this is the best investment for me.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. We both know his grandfather wasn't the most stable of people, and his father was as mad as a bucket of worms. I've heard rumours. Should I be trusting Thorin to handle this?'

Apparently, hobbits weren't the only ones capable of being stealthy, for it was suddenly that Bilbo noticed that the dwarf in question was standing silently behind him, listening in. He must have noticed that I noticed him, he thought. Should I say something?

'I can honestly say that he is the sanest man I have ever known,' Gandalf said in a voice that brooked no argument. 'Now, you will have to come down on either side of this matter. You know indecision could prove lethal in a matter like this.'

Elrond sagged. 'I will help. Of course I will. I don't want that abomination harming innocent people more than he already has.'

The both fell silent, and it was with a second start that Bilbo realized that Thorin had disappeared as quietly as he had arrived.

Author's note:

The scene where Kili checks out the elf musicians was cheerfully lifted wholesale from the extended cut of AUJ. The scene where they discuss the heist with Elrond is very similar to a conversation Rusty and Danny have with Reuben in Ocean's 11, and one of the many that sparked this story.

The instigator, however, was when I saw the One More scene in O11 and immediately imagined a version with Gandalf as Danny Ocean and Thorin as Rusty. That and the mental image of Bilbo and Thorin watching Oprah together.

This chapter's cosmological constant: Coffee, shrubberies, and people being caramelized by jet engines.