Author's Notes: FrodoBaggins87, It was a long update, and I apologise. What with graduation parties and summer jobs, I was swamped. Sorry!

And I'm glad you liked my Sam/Rosie interaction, Alexis Rockford. But I'm sorry, Merry won't die in my fic!

Another Note: This story takes place a year before the BIG BIRTHDAY. I will be using a mixture of the book and movie verse. If you're familiar with both you'll see what I mean as you read on.
Chapter Five: Amiable Intentions

"I wonder where Rosie is?" said Meriadoc suddenly.

Pippin hit his arm lightly as he responded jokingly, "Rosie is Sam's girl, remember?"

As Samwise blushed furiously at their banter, the two cousins grinned mischievously, and Frodo hummed a breezy tune. His tenacity in not participating in Merry and Pippin's teasing placed him in Sam's good favour for the rest of the day. In fact, Frodo's nobleness made Sam feel guilty of the mistake he had committed earlier that afternoon.

"Well, Mr. Frodo, it seems Rosie's gone and told her family about our secret birthday party tonight," said Sam with a shake of his head. "You can hate me, if you will, or banish me from the party, but I don't know what good it will do you."

Frodo's normally protuberant eyes grew twice as large. "But if the whole Cotton family comes to the gathering . . ." he let his voice trail off. They were all aware of how humongous an appetite the Cotton family possessed.

"Will there be enough food for the rest of the guests?" Pippin asked.

"I don't know," replied Frodo miserably.

"Maybe we shouldn't invite anyone else to the party?" Sam proposed with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I suggested the idea in the first place, and I'm not even allowed to bring a guest? How is that fair?" Merry rose angrily from the bench, strode to the kitchen fireplace, and stood perfectly still with his arms crossed in an obvious act of defiance.

"Be a good sport, Merry; it isn't that horrid of an idea." Pippin likewise stood and went to shake his cousin rather harshly, but the imp refused to move.

"The damage is done, so why dwell on it any longer?" Frodo inquired. A tension settled over the hobbits as each secretly blamed the other for this minor fiasco. Frodo realised it was imperative that they speak to each other, or the Cottons would arrive to discover four very silent and strained hobbits and no celebration. A queer glimmer abruptly appeared in his azure eyes, and he handed Sam two teaspoons from off the table. Tentatively, Samwise clutched the two spoons, then slowly started a simple rhythm.

Pippin's foot tapped to the beat, and, as he began to hum tunelessly, he grabbed the spoons from Sam. He expertly imitated Sam's cadence, but, not to be undaunted, Sam snatched the silverware and added more manoeuvres. Before Pippin could take the spoons and attempt to copy it again, Frodo very slowly repeated Sam's rhythm with his hands. Sam and Frodo began performing the cadence together, humming softly under their breaths.

Pippin found his own teaspoons, and joined Frodo and Sam. He had added a few extra beats, and soon he was doing a complete drum roll. As the three hobbits (Merry refused to move from his immobile position) watched the silver spoons move over the wooden table, they realised that the rhythm went very well with one of their drinking songs.

Frodo began the song first with his clear voice, and it went something like this:

There's a cellar I know,

And it's way below,

The earth's dark ground,

In the heart of town,

In the Shire!

At this point Samwise and Pippin joined Frodo, never stopping their tapping.

If you go downstairs,

You'll see standing there,

Kegs of home-made brew.

Ale and Whiskey, too.

I'm no liar!

You can drink your fill,

Or at least until,

You can stand no more,

And can't find the door,

And you fall down!

So let us begin,

With our glad drinkin.

Our hearts will be light.

We'll make the world right.

Have a new round!

The three hobbits were about to belt out the refrain, when Merry, tired of his antics, began a lively jig around the table. Suppressing their chuckles, Pippin, Frodo, and Sam finished the tune.

So I'll drink all my ale,

From a cup or a pail.

Fill my mug if I can.

Get the jugs and the pans.

Lock the door; throw the key,

Want the beer all for me.

And when I am all done,

I'll go home. No more fun!

But I won't remain sane

Till I'm drinking again!

Eh!

Merry finished his dance by hopping onto the table, upsetting teacups, plates, and silverware. Frodo was in too much of a shock to chastise Meriadoc, which was just as well since he had shattered several dishes and left a tea stain on Frodo's new vest, and had Frodo been in a more serious mood, there would have been an exchange of several unsavoury words.

As it was, Frodo ignored the broken platters and stain and said, "Now if you gentlemen would help me decide what games we should play tonight I would be most appreciative."

Meriadoc jumped off the table and turned to Frodo with a puckish simper. "You'd be 'most appreciative'? You're always the polite old hobbit, aren't you, cousin?"

Samwise seemed quite prepared to perform whatever menial task Frodo appointed him with. "We have to keep occupied before the party, so why not help?" was his logic.

"I'd be glad to help out!" a female voice cried from the doorway. The four male hobbits turned to discover Rosie Cotton, red-faced from running to the Cottons farm and then back to Bag End. "Father says that you should expect all the Cottons to come to the party!" Frodo, Pippin, and Merry involuntarily groaned, but if Rose noticed this display of bad manners she made no comment.

The five hobbits couldn't all work on games. As temporary Master of Bag End, Frodo found it necessary to give the commands. "I will come up with the entertainment for this evening and try to remove this stain from my vest." Frodo motioned to Peregrin and Meriadoc. "You will clean up this mess in the kitchen." He addressed the remaining two, "The tent has been decorated-and very aptly, Sam- but not Bag End! If you could decorate the house, I would be grateful."

"Lead me to the decorations, Sam." Rosie smiled, and Samwise, crimsoning, escorted her to 5 Bagshot Row, where the streamers were being kept.

Merry and Pippin quickly cleaned the shards of cups and plates from on and underneath the table, but once this errand was completed, Frodo was nowhere to be seen. Thinking that Frodo was still busy concocting elaborate games for the night's festivities, they wandered into the parlour where they sunk onto the sofa in boredom. They were oblivious to the fact that Frodo was scrubbing out the large tea stain on his exquisite vest.

"What should we do now?" Pippin asked, piqued that Rose Cotton, Frodo and Sam had disappeared.

"We rest a while before King Frodo returns with his two loyal subjects." Meriadoc unceremoniously shoved his friend off the sofa and lay down, attempting to sleep.

"I don't think Frodo would appreciate you calling him 'King,'" answered Pip, struggling to his feet. He began pulling Merry's arm in order to rouse him but to no avail. Meriadoc merely smirked before pushing him. Pippin lost his balance and fell into Sam, who had unfortunately just entered the room with an armful of streamers. The two hobbits let out painful yelps as they landed pell-mell on the floor entangled in the colourful ribbons. "At least I landed on something soft," Pippin mumbled as he squirmed against a red streamer that had wound itself tightly around his arm.

Sam was trying to hold back his tears as he surveyed the damaged decorations. "I can't put these in Bag End now!"

Meriadoc felt a twinge of guilt which rapidly grew to a frenzy as he heard the pattering of feet on the floor. Rosie and Frodo entered the room, gazed at Merry's culpable face, and frowned. "You'll have to straighten these streamers as best as you can," Frodo ordered him.

"At least my ribbons have not been ruined," sniffed Rosie disdainfully. "Come, we'll decorate the kitchen." She helped Sam to his feet, and the duo quit the room.

Merry was rather unnerved that he had once again been the cause of trouble. Even Pippin hadn't been blamed though it was he who had fallen into Sam! If he was to remain in Frodo's favour, he would have to find a way to amend his behaviour.

"Merry, I will help you, if you like," Pippin offered. He managed to free himself from the ribbons and stood by Frodo. Frodo had his new vest draped over his arm. "What are you doing with that?" asked Pip.

"I was going to take it outside to dry," Frodo responded.

A brilliant idea overcame Meriadoc, and he bit his lip to hold back a jubilant chuckle. "Allow me to take it outside for you, cousin!"

Frodo scrutinised him warily before conceding. "Very well; I do have birthday presents to wrap for certain young friends of mine." He quickly returned to his room to finish this task.

Merry held the article of clothing at arm's length as if it carried a fatal disease. He waved it exaggeratedly in front of Pippin's face. "I'll just take this . . . thing outside," he said with an affected air.

Pippin thoroughly examined the garment for the first time. "That is one ugly vest."

"I wouldn't be caught dead in that," Meriadoc proclaimed distastefully.

"You know you won't be." Peregrin's brain began to work quickly as he investigated the vest more closely. "If you got rid of the vines and leaves-"

"The inside of the vest is more beautiful than the outside," Merry interrupted. He displayed the inside, which was a black velvet. "The tailor must have been a master at his craft. Look how there are no seams!"

Deep in thought, Pippin placed his chin on his hand. After a moment's contemplation he announced, "If we had some scissors we could cut the lovely silver buttons off the outside of the vest and sew them on the inside."

"Bilbo had some scissors in his sewing basket!" exclaimed Merry, thrashing his head from side to side. "Is it still in the parlour?" He ran around the room, determined to find a pair of scissors if it took him all afternoon.

Pippin feigned a yawn as Merry made circles around him. He clasped the sewing basket that had been perched on a chair. "Oh, Merry, is this what you require?" he asked playfully.

Meriadoc blushed before he took the scissors from the basket and began cutting the buttons off. When he was halfway through, he ripped the rest off and then went over the rough edges. He stepped back to admire his labour. "It's a totally different vest."

Pippin seized the garment, but before Merry could object, he explained, "You don't know how to sew very well." He cumbersomely began stitching the buttons on the vest's inside.

"And I suppose you are an expert at sewing?" said Merry sourly.

Pippin insisted vehemently that he could indeed sew better than he, and his protestations only subsided when Meriadoc asked, "What if Frodo doesn't appreciate our fine work?"

"Then we're going to be in great trouble," Pippin answered solemnly.

Merry did not respond, but his eyes were twinkling with mirth. Pip did not find the situation a bit humorous. He merely sighed and sewed a button on lopsidedly.

Merry's mouth began to twitch; the spasm rapidly became a chuckle; and soon he was chortling uncontrollably. His laughter was infectious, and Pippin quickly joined him. The vest may have suffered from the laughter, but the hobbits' spirits certainly didn't.

To Be Continued!