Frodo sat peacefully under a tree, attempting to read a large book he held in his hands. It would have been much easier if he didn't loose his place every time someone so much as laughed off in the distance. Even the wind seemed to sound like Bilbo moving, soft as an elf, through the grass.

Ever since he had come to live with his uncle, he had been on edge. Three years is a long time to spend jumping at every noise. And, really, it didn't help that his relative repeatedly jumped out at him, yelling 'You're looking for it! I know you want to take it from me!' Frodo shuttered, then groaned in frustration as he lost his place again.

The sound of humming reached the young hobbit's years and he jumped up, barely noticing as the book fell onto the grass. Excitedly, he ran towards the sound, leaving the book laying under the tree to be picked up by anyone who happened to walk by.

He stopped as he reached the main road, for the person that was slowly making his way into the shire looked nothing like the man he had expected. 'Gandalf?' he asked, confused. He'd been about to inform the person that he was late, but... well, for starters his hair was...

The stranger looked up, his eyes meeting those of the hobbit. Yes, the eyes were unmistakably those of the wizard. Frodo looked away as the right pupil drifted into the left corner, then to the right, then did a full circle. 'Oh, Gandalf, can't you get that looked at?' The hobbit asked.

'Get what looked at? I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.' he then proceeds to mutter to himself. 'Here I thought the green hair would draw attention away from that...'

'Er, right. It's erm... wonderful to see you!' Frodo stuttered, then hoped into the cart. 'I assume you're here for my birthday?'

'Your birthday? I thought it was Bilbo's?'

'Well, yes, it is, but we have the same bithdate.' Frodo sighed, feeling rather neglected.

A group of children began to run after them, shouting 'Firework!' At the sound of their voices, Frodo dove into the bottom of the cart and shook for a few moments, then seemed to realize what they were calling for, relaxed and sat up. All this while, Gandalf was muttering about how 'if they wanted fireworks, they were going to half to learn his name was Gandalf, not 'Firework.'

With the lack of any explosions, the children continued to follow the cart down the road, their number slowly growing, all shouting 'Firework! Firework!'

'Oh, bugger it!' Gandalf said, then stopped the cart, waited 'til the little brats caught up with him and set off a small shower of sparks into their faces. Laughing hysterically, he started moving again.

'How is the old rasscle, anyway?' Gandalf asked, as though nothing had interrupted their conversation.

'You mean Bilbo?' Frodo shuttered at the sound of his uncle's name.

'No, I'm referring to the Gaffer that tends your garden.'

'Oh, he's alright I guess. I honestly don't know. I don't really talk to him, but he's been going regularly down to the pub, so I would assume he's alright.'

Gandalf rolled his eyes, 'Really Frodo, you should figure out how to pick up on sarcasm. Of course I was referring to your uncle!'

Frodo paused and thought about this, then laughs. 'I get it!' Gandalf narrowed his eyes, but said nothing, patiently waiting for an answer. When none was forthcoming, he prompted the hobbit. 'Oh, so you really wanted an answer, too? Right. Er, he's been um... scary.' Frodo said, then thought some more.

'Scary? How so?'

'Well, he's just... scary. I'm also willing to bet all of his stupid maps that he's been planning something.'

'You mean those maps that you tried to burn last year?'

'Er... burn? What do you mean, burn? I never tried to do that!' His voice is full of guilt. Gandalf could only nod. Desperately searching for a way to leave Gandalf's side before they reached bag-end, his thoughts fell on the book he had left laying in the mud. 'Oh! I have left my book elsewhere, I must go and find it. Gandalf, please stop the cart.'

The wizard kept going. 'I said, would you please stop the cart?' Getting impatient, Frodo reached up and lifted the man's hat off of his head, allowing the full extent of the green colouring to show.

'Ahhh! My hat, you fool of a Baggins! Give me back my hat!' Desperately, he tried to reach over Frodo and grab at his head-covering. The movement, however, upset the cart and sent it falling over sideways, both occupants screaming in fear and it then proceeded to tumble down the hill, smashing to splinters at the bottom. Miraculously, the horse that had pulled it was still standing patiently on the road.

Frodo took one look at the mess, then at Gandalf's purple face (which reminded Frodo of a certain stuffed animal he had owned as a child, the lilac cheeks surrounded by brilliant green hair) stood, and ran away, fearing for his life.

Gandalf glared after the hobbit, wishing with all his heart that he had managed to keep a hold on his staff. However, he needed to get the mess of fireworks cleaned up before certain annoying hobbits came along and stole them all out from under his nose.

Frodo owed him a new cart, and he was going to make sure he got it...

At last, he had stowed all his belongings in a nearby bush and was walking up the road towards Bagend, where Bilbo still resided.