This scene was based somewhat on Ingrid Michaelson's "The Way I Am," specifically the line ". . . 'cause I love the way you say "good morning . . ." And this is something I want to do when I get to this stage in my life. ;)

Frodo woke up insanely early that morning, anxious to go find Sev. She decided to go into Bag End at dawn, awaken him when she thought would be his optimal time to awaken, but he found her first. He slipped out of Bag End and might have spent the whole day looking for her if he didn't search the log and the tree first.

Most of Sev's time was taken in reorganizing Bag End. There were papers and books scattered everywhere, ink spills on every wooden surface imaginable. The mess was mostly an inheritance from Bilbo, as well as Frodo's lack of care for organization. He simply never had thought to do it, and didn't wish to now.

Every time he tried to kiss her she complied, but not for long enough. She would tell him he was distracting her and went right back to work. She sent him out with Sam periodically.

Sev stayed on the lawn again that second night, and went in very early to wake him up. She crept into Bag End, then snaked through his bedroom door. She rubbed her head against his Gondor cloak—hung up on the door where she knew she could touch it—and inched forward towards him.

He looked so peaceful. She smiled broadly despite herself. She laid her hand on his shoulder; he faced away from her, and she gently tried to turn him over. But he would not budge. Somehow he was more stubborn in sleep. She muttered to herself and slipped over to the other side of the bed. She noted that it was very wide; she could sleep on the edge occasionally if she really required something so comfortable.

Her eyes rolled. She sank into the mattress, nearly blacking out. But she shook it off. Task at hand, she reminded herself.

She slipped forward, not quite so much anticipating the kiss as his reaction; she hoped very much that he would like it. She lowered her head and tenderly touched her lips against his, careful to ease into it. She didn't know how he would take it.

Frodo felt the warmth coming, heard the creak of the door, but didn't awaken to it. It was in the back of his head, and he thought he was dreaming it up. But then her soft lips met his . . . and he jerked awake with a pleasured moan, enthusiastically kissing her back.

It frightened her, as she initially let a small level of emotion into it. She pulled away, but Frodo realized that it wasn't in his head. He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her back into an intent kiss.

Sev's head slacked against the pillow opposite him; only her torso was on the bed, though, so she twisted off the side. She blinked dizzily.

"Good morning, Frodo," she muttered.

Frodo smiled and yawned. "Good morning. Where did that come from? I usually have to hunt you for one of those."

Sev furrowed her brow jocosely. "I was going to do that yesterday, but you woke up too fast." She lowered her head down close to his. "And I intend to do that for as many mornings as is at all possible."

That got him excited. Sometimes he would wake himself up before she came in, for he noted that the moment she knew he was awake she would wish him a good day and turn to get something else done. She became quite the service in the Shire (courtesy of Rosie spreading the word), restless when she wasn't working or prowling . . . unless Frodo could catch her affectionate. He enjoyed that a great deal, but he didn't get too deep before she would run away.

Frodo learned over time that, if he feigned to rest, he could get her to keep the kiss long enough that he could trap her in place and kiss her more. That became his strategy, although she didn't recognize it; sometimes he was indeed too tired to wake up right away. One of those mornings of strategy was Tarrie's birthday, a morning that Sev had been preparing for. Rosie overemphasized Sev's ability to do just about anything, and Tarrie happened to be nearby on a day that Rosie boasted Sev a bit more than she intended. Tarrie had enjoyed the grandeur of Frodo and Sev's wedding, and asked Sev to manage her own. Sev insisted that she would need plenty of help from Rosie, and Tarrie was rather compliant, if not dismissive.

Sev stayed up all night with Rosie mapping everything out. Frodo waited for her to come in and kiss him, but she never did. He conceded simply to rest after a long while.

The next morning, Sev was stressed. She walked briskly back to Bag End, actually to grab some materials, until she remembered she had a husband at home. She turned from the main hall into his bedroom.

Frodo's fingers and feet tingled, anticipatory, at the sound of the door creaking open. It was a hasty opening, though, which he realized. He settled back. She wouldn't be satisfactory like this; he had to convince her that she could let her stress go for a minute.

Sev quickly touched her lips to his. He waited for her to deepen it in an attempt to awaken him faster, but she did no such thing. She just stood, impatient and ready to be away even if Frodo didn't awaken.

He hesitantly kissed her back, and she leaped away suddenly, throwing open the door. He sent her a perplexed, longing look as he propped himself up on his elbow.

Sev threw her hands in the air a tad exasperatedly. "Can't!" she insisted. "No time; Tarrie's birthday! The field has to be prepared, and the—,"

Frodo wasn't ready for a long list, not this early in the morning. He shook his head slowly while he sat up. Sev settled, shaking her head as well. She reminded herself that Frodo was her first priority, that she had promised him nothing in the Shire would take his place unless it was the worse for him not to care about it.

"No?"

He shook his head again, patting the bed. Sev sighed and sat down shakily. He wrapped his arm around her; she got stressed easily, but he didn't. Not really. Things would work out for the better in the end, he knew that much if nothing else.

"I guess I'm just worried a little," she said finally. "I'm sorry." Despite that statement she was still hurried. She pecked his lips, but he needed her here. He locked her in with his arms and kissed her solidly. Sev tried to scramble back, but it was only the reflex of stress. He might not have thought that, but she relaxed almost as suddenly. Her head fizzled, settling into a numbness. Frodo wrapped a subconscious hand around her knees, bringing her up onto his lap, then cupped her face with it.

He remained persistent but softened eventually, and then he released her very gently. Her eyelids flickered open and shut—she hadn't had warning to be anxious before he kissed her, and had enjoyed that thoroughly after her little jolt of realization.

"Remind me to do that every morning," she muttered, breathless.

Frodo grinned, a little disoriented but still acceptably functional. "Absolutely. You might have enjoyed that almost as much as I did."

Sev raised her eyebrows, not willing to show her concern for that. He kissed her again, and she wrapped her hands in his hair to hold him closer. She knew she shouldn't have; she didn't have time. She did it anyway.

These scenes are just for the benefit of those that like romance scenes . . . and Frodo romance scenes . . . :) Sit back and relax, I guess. Thanks for reading!