(A/N: At least this chapter is longer than the previous one, eh? Hope this satisfies some predictions... Not that anyone has offered any, but sigh that's life I suppose. Keep reviewing - I get lonely in my little world of LOTR obsessions!)

Over the next month, Calen and Frodo grew closer than even Gandalf had expected. Nothing had happened yet, but the wizard knew the feeling was there, even if neither of them did. He saw it in the way their actions changed when they were together in public or together alone. In public, they were friendly and comfortable, but they acted more distant and shy than they really were. Alone, however, or with a small group of close friends, they didn't hesitate to hold hand's or lean on each other's shoulder. It was an interesting relationship, but Gandalf knew it was now only a matter of time.

"Hey Pip! One more?" Merry asked drunkenly.

"Hand me a big one!" came the reply.

Out of the corner of her eye, Calen saw Frodo shaking his head.

"Don't get too drunk, you two. I would hate to wake up in the morning to find that one of you had tried to fly to the moon," she told them as she stood up to go.

It was late, and she wasn't too tolerant of the rowdiness of the inn tonight. It reminded her of several occasions back in Rohan that had ended in either violence or some other form of trouble, and she wasn't in the mood for reminiscing.

Frodo held the door for her.

"Sorry about that-about them," he said.

"Don't worry about it," Calen replied. "They're just a bit drunk, is all. It happens."

A cool breeze whispered playfully through the trees, making Calen shiver a little. She fastened her cloak around her. Frodo did the same. They started walking back to Bag End.

"Calen took a deep breath and sighed.

"It smells like rain," she commented.

"Looks like it, too," added Frodo, glancing at the sky. "I hope we don't get caught in it."

"I wouldn't mind so much," Calen said, smiling.

"No," he admitted, "but I would much rather curl up in a blanket and listen to it on the roof than have to walk through it, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe -"

A bright flash of lightning cut off Calen's reply, followed almost immediately by a loud crash of thunder. The two stopped in their tracks, waiting.

"Well, wouldn't you know," muttered Frodo as a few raindrops hit his face. He laughed when one hit the tip of Calen's nose, making her blink.

"I guess a little rain cant hurt anything," she shrugged.

They started walking again. A few minutes later, though, the rain began to pound their shoulders, running in little streams down the path. Their cloaks were now completely soaked through and plastered to their bodies.

Frodo glanced upwards, then turned and grabbed Calen's hand, pulling her after him as he ran. They accidentally charged right through a puddle, spraying themselves with water. After that it became a game, with both of them trying to kick water onto the other. By the time they reached Bag End they were both soaked, shivering, and laughing uncontrollably.

In fact, they were both laughing so hard that when they practically fell through the door and stumbled inside, they didn't think to stop until they reached Frodo's room. There, he released Calen's hand to wipe the water from his face, still laughing softly.

Calen looked down and saw a pool of water starting to form on the floor beneath her.

"Oh! Curse it," she muttered, then bent to remove her shoes.

She moved for the door, then uttered a sharp cry and she slipped on the wet surface and fell forward. Frodo reached out and caught her, but the force of her fall threw him backwards. He tried to brace his elbow on the unmade bed, which only pushed the pillows and blankets to the ground, slipped, and landed on the now cushioned floor, accidentally dragging Calen down on top of him.

She immediately stiffened and tried to get up, but Frodo held her to him.

"Wait," he whispered.

Slowly, he drew closer and kissed her, very gently. Hesitant, Calen felt herself loosen as Frodo caressed her lips with his, careful and soft. Intoxicating sweetness raced from his mouth to hers, and Calen soon found herself out of breath.

Frodo pulled away momentarily and smoothed a strand of wet hair from her cheek, eyes absorbed in hers.

'Get up!' Calen's common sense screamed at her. 'You're soaking wet!'

But as Frodo brushed a soft finger over her lips, her common sense told her to savor the feeling, before leaving her to decide for herself. So as soon as Frodo kissed her again, she kissed him back wholeheartedly, relaxing thoroughly as he bound his arms around her and nestled deeper into the bed-nest of pillows and blankets.

"Now that I know what it feels like to hold you, I don't ever want to let you go," Frodo breathed, nuzzling her neck. "You belong here in my arms."

Calen only smiled, so he crushed his lips to hers, gentle but passionate.

Twisting slightly, Calen felt the clasp of her cloak start to choke her. Unwillingly, she broke the kiss and unfastened her cloak. Beside her, Frodo did the same, then grabbed both cloaks and balled them up, throwing them aside.

"Imagine what Merry and Pippin will think when they find out," he laughed, running his fingers through Calen's wet hair.

"They wont be surprised," she replied, rubbing her nose on the point where his neck met his chest. "I've had the suspicion that they were going to set us up for a while now."

"But we beat them to it," Frodo whispered, lifting Calen's face to his and kissing her deeply.

When he pulled away for breath, Calen bit her lip and sighed.

"What is it?" Frodo asked while kissing her cheeks.

Before she could answer, Frodo found her lips again and forced her to talk through the pauses.

"Shouldn't we… dry off or… something?" she said.

Frodo only increased his fervent kisses before answering.

"Don't worry about… it… Calen. You look… good wet. But then… you look… good… when you're dry… too."

His shirt was so wet it was plastered to his skin, constricting his movements. Frustrated, he unbuttoned it and pulled it off.

"Now, is that really necessary?" Calen teased, running her hand down his bare arm.

"Crucial," he replied, seizing her hand and kissing her palm.

He traced the curve of her neck down to her collarbone, where her loose shirt had slipped below her shoulder on one side. Tenderly he moved his lips over her bare skin, then went back to her mouth.

Unexpected, lightning glared across the sky, illuminating the dark room for a brief second. Thunder crashed along with it, rattling the windows. Calen jumped mid-kiss, startled; she heard Frodo's sharp intake of breath.

"I'd forgotten it was raining," she admitted.

"Mmmmmm," muttered Frodo distractedly as he kissed her forehead.

Calen smiled and snuggled closer to his body, resting her head on his chest and neck. She felt his arms tighten around her and his chin pressed lightly on the top of her head. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the moment.

About thirty minutes later, she was jolted back to reality by a strange plinking sound. She opened her eyes and slowly realized that she must have slipped into the half sleeping, half alert mode. As she tried to identify the sound, she felt her body rise and fall rhythmically with Frodo's breathing. When she tried to get up his arms drew her back down to him.

"Shhh, its just the rain," he explained softly. "Go back to sleep, Calen. Its okay."

He kissed her eyelids lightly , then continued. "Sleep tight, my little Iluvemel," he murmured lovingly into her ear.

Calen was already half asleep, and too drowsy to ponder the meaning of what he'd called her. Some part of her figured she would find out soon enough, anyway. So she sank back to her previous position beside Frodo and was asleep in minutes, soothed by his presence and the sound of rain falling lightly upon the windows