Author's Notes: LONG WEEKEND!!! I love how Thanksgiving in Canada is in October! I NEED a good three day weekend. *looks like death on two legs right now* Picture... Frodo after he's been stabbed by the wraith. Yes, I am a soulless IB student in all it's essence now. Yes, I had another math test today, could you tell? I am mortified that I found the second page of calculus to be fun and entertaining. I've also been typing up too many rants/arguments for my own good today. Tooks should not show great bursts of intelligence. It goes against their nature. Of course I'm sure when I'm much more awake after a good 15 hour sleep tonight and I look back on this I will be appalled by the lack of intellect shown here.

There were a couple of things actually pertaining to this fic which I wanted to say though. In my daily perusion of assorted websites (most of them Tolkien/LotR based), I came across a sister site of "Boydism" (don't look at me like that) in which it appeared my fanfics were being showcased. Now, I don't have any PROBLEMS with my stories being put up for all to see, in fact it's quite flattering, but for future reference if anyone should get that sort of idea/desire, I would appreciate it if they consulted me first as I would like to keep track of where my writings are. Aside from that there's not much else I wish to say. So enjoy!

Disclaimer: I am not Tolkien and therefore do not own any of the characters or locations. And yes, the title of this chapter is taken from "The Bath Song" which Pippin sings in "The Fellowship of the Ring." No creativity on my part this time.

Pipsqueak Peregrin

Chapter Five: Sing Hey! For the Bath at Close of Day

While not as large as Brandy Hall or Great Smials, Bag End is still a very big hobbit hole and it took me quite a while to track down Frodo. I found him in one of the back rooms, searching through cabinets and cupboards for some lost trinket.

"Frodo, have you lost something?" I asked. My question startled him, causing him to jump and hit his head on one of the cupboards.

"I can't seem to find-- there you are!" Frodo had spotted Pippin clinging to my hand. He scooped up the hobbit who giggled happily, discovering himself to once again be the center of attention. "You had me worried, young Took!" Frodo turned back to me. "I'm glad you found him. It's amazing how tiny lads can just suddenly disappear on you like that."

"He found me," I said simply. "My nap in the garden was interrupted by him toddling into my lap."

"Toddling?" Frodo repeated. "Don't be silly, Merry, the lad can't walk yet."

"Oh, he can't, can he?" I folded my arms across my chest, looking smugly at my cousin. "Well, maybe not for anyone else, but he walked for me."

"Are you sure you didn't just dream it?" asked Frodo. "The aromas of the garden can put one into a very deep sleep."

"He walked!" I insisted. "Didn't you, Pippin?"

Pippin wasn't paying attention to either of us. He was examining Frodo's chestnut curls with great interest and seemed to be contemplating something. Just as I thought, Pippin reached out a small hand to grab hold of Frodo's hair, but my cousin was too quick and pushed away his hand gently. Pippin frowned at Frodo and his eyes welled up with tears. Sure enough, Pippin let out one of his infamous wails and dissolved into a fit of tears.

"Now you've done it," I said. "You've got him crying again!"

"Oh hush, Merry," replied Frodo, trying to calm down Pippin. "Come now, Pippin, you know hobbit hair is not for tugging." It seemed to me that unlike the other adults, Frodo could see through Pippin's false tears just as well as I could. Pippin was not ready to give up his charade just yet though and so, in search of some peace and quiet, I left the two hobbits in their part of Bag End in search of something else to keep me occupied.

Luckily, Sam was back in the garden when I went outside again. I spent the afternoon with him, asking him every question I could think up about his work. Gardening, as it seems, takes a lot more care and skill than I had first thought. Sam seemed to really love his work as well, almost as much as he loved Bilbo and Frodo. It still looked like a lot of hard work though; something in which I had no desire to participate in.

Bilbo arrived home in the late evening, just in time for the evening meal. Pippin had given up crying by now and had decided to occupy himself by seeing how many helpings of mashed potato he could stuff down his trousers. What purpose this served was beyond me but Pippin seemed to be enjoying himself. This made for a very messy hobbit though and sure enough, while Bilbo took Pippin away for a bath, I had to help Frodo clean up the mess Pippin had left behind.

"He's a filthy little bugger," I said to Frodo. My older cousin chuckled. "Well he is! Stuffing food down his pants! What sort of a lad does that?!"

Frodo smiled knowingly. "You'd be surprised. And don't think you were a cleanly lad either, Merry. All babies make a mess with their food. It's just a part of life."

"I don't care what it is," I replied. "I thought he might be a smart lad when he walked but this proves I was wrong."

"Now now, Merry, don't be cruel," lectured Frodo. "Give him some time. I'm sure Pippin will grow on you. He reminds me of you, you know." I harrumphed indignantly. Frodo was comparing me to Pippin? There was no way I was ever as stupid or strange as that young Took. Frodo was obviously mistaken once again.

I was "rescued" from my chore of cleaning up caked on potato when Bilbo hollered for me to come and watch Pippin in the bath while he went to gather up the lad's bed clothes.

"Watch him carefully, Merry," said Bilbo. "If the lad loses his balance and tumbles backwards he could very easily drown in the bath. Be sure to catch him if he takes a little spill."

I stood by the bath tub as Pippin giggled and splashed, incredibly amused not only by the water but the scented bubbles in the water. Deciding the bubbles looked like a tasty treat, Pippin scooped up a handful and proceeded to eat the bubbles. I smiled and chuckled in amusement as the lad coughed and crinkled his nose in disgust. It was then that Pippin seemed to notice me for the first time.

"Mer? Boat." It was more of a command than anything else. I would not bow down to the lad's wishes and so I refused to move from my spot. "Merry, boat!" I was the older of the two of us and thus deserved more respect. I was not to be commanded by the lad and this was something Pippin needed to learn.

"Look, Pipsqueak," I said, picking up the toy boat tauntingly, "there are a few things you and I need to get straight here. You are the baby and I am the older cousin. This means you listen to me, not the other way around, understand? You do not order me to hand you this boat, you ask and if I feel nice I'll give it to you."

"Mine!" cried Pippin, reaching out for the boat. I held it just out of his reach. Obviously Pippin was not paying attention to anything I was saying. I knew he understood me. I had been wrong in saying he was nothing but a stupid little baby before. He just loved the attention his little acts got him. Attention which used to belong to me. "Boat! Mine! Merry, mine!!" Pippin was no longer looking happy or pleased but for once he didn't look ready to burst into tears. I was rather startled to find he was glaring at me as best he could. "It mine, Merry!"

"Actually, Pippin, this boat belonged to Frodo and then me," I said. "I don't recall me ever passing it on to you so that would make it still mine."

Pippin glared at me. I glared right back. It was if we were locked in a battle of mental will, glaring at each other, willing the other the make his next move. This was no longer about the little toy boat but was more like a question of dominance. Pippin had come into the family to try and replace me but I would not give in and let myself be usurped. I don't know how long we stared at each other but I made the mistake of blinking. Pippin saw it as a fleeting weakness and let out an incredibly high pitched squeal. Startled, I dropped the boat which clattered to the floor just as Pippin pushed himself backwards and sank beneath the suds.

Pippin's cry made Bilbo come running into the bathroom. Seeing no curly haired hobbit visible above the bath bubbles, Bilbo plunged his arms into the depths of the tub and brought up a sputtering and coughing Pippin.

"Merry, I told you to watch the lad carefully!" he cried. "What were you doing just standing there? He could very well have drowned!" Bilbo continued to fuss over Pippin, making sure he was all right. It was decided that while he was fine, Pippin had spent enough time in the bath. Bilbo let the bath drain and left the room with Pippin in his arms, but not before shooting me one of those, "We'll talk later" looks.

It was not Bilbo who caught my eye though but Pippin. As Bilbo left the bathroom, Pippin looked up from where he had been whimpering into the older hobbit's shoulder to look at me. A small smile of pure wickedness played upon his lips as his green eyes met mine. The little brat had done it on purpose! I glared at the doorway, my fists clenched. It appeared the lad had come out of this round on top but things were soon to change. I would not become a victim of my own baby cousin.

Merry's taken another violent mood swing towards Pippin, hasn't he? I pity the lad, he just can't seem to make up his mind about his cousin and by the looks of it, things aren't exactly about to improve either. So there's my two cents, what are yours? In other words, review and keep smiling!