TITLE: Dances With Uncles
AUTHOR: Tinuviel's Song

Disclaimer: I don't own Frodo, Bilbo, The Springle-Ring, yada, yada, moving along, people.
SUMMARY: Bilbo wants Frodo to get a life and learn to dance, so what does he do? Well, read and find out…
RATING: G
CHARACTERS: Bilbo, Frodo
SPOILERS: Not much, if you didn't know squat about LotR, already…
NOTES: This is my first fanfic… Eva! I know it sorta stinks, but I tried, all right? FLAMES ARE NOT WELCOME! Um… Enjoy… (scoots off somewhere)

Chap. 3: Let The Music Take Control

After Frodo had walked Merry and Sam home to their smíals, he stepped up to Bag End. Frodo saw smoke coming from the chimney. 'O, that's right. Pippin's family is here. Bilbo must be entertaining them. I hope he isn't telling them the tale of how I got motion sickness and vomited on him during that one carriage ride last year,' Frodo prayed. He opened the little white gate out front, padded up the front steps, and was about to reach for the doorknob when he suddenly heard mirthful laughter coming from within.

'Mama!' Pippin cried happily, beginning to bounce his wee bum excitedly in Frodo's arms.

'Shh…' Frodo hushed, pressing a finger to his lips. Pippin sucked in his lips, though they were still stuck in an over-euphoric smile. Frodo pressed his ear to the thick door to hear the conversation that was buzzing inside.

'So (heh heh), so I told him-… I told him- (heh heh heh) I told Herilac this: 'Sure, I'll give you the pumpkin, but first get out of my manure pile!'' Paladin Took howled, followed by a tumult of unruly laughter from Bilbo and Paladin's wife (and Pippin's mother), Eglantine.

'Speaking of little anecdotes, I told Frodo-lad today that I'd teach him to dance. He almost had a heart attack when I told him, but I think he'll learn to welcome it, eventually… I hope…' Bilbo said hopelessly, taking on a poignant expression.

'Poor dear, ever since he came here from Griffo Boffin's place, almost four years ago, he's been as sad as a mule without feed. I hope the poor love works up the courage enough to dance with somebody this year. He always seems so lonely.' Eglantine said empathetically, receiving a small pat on the hand from her husband, who was sitting in the chair next to her.

Frodo absentmindedly opened the door with a prolonged creak, drawing everyone's attention to the door. 'Mummy!' Pippin cried jubilantly, jumping from a rather stupefied Frodo's arms and scurrying over into his mother's lap. Frodo came in quietly and shut the round green door behind him. The iniquitous door betrayed him with a loud 'shwump' as it closed.

'Frodo! We were just talking about you, dear.' Eglantine said with a loving smile, her pea-green eyes twinkling with compassion as Frodo emerged from the dark vestibule, unbuttoning his coat.

'Were you, now?' Frodo said, taking off his brown overcoat and deep red scarf, hanging them snugly on the coat tree. 'What an honor to be a part of your conversation.' Frodo complimented, giving Bilbo a silent glare, though Eglantine saw it quite clearly.

'What were you doing out so late? I merely sent you out to get tea leaves, m'lad.' Bilbo inquired, looking up at Frodo through his eyebrows.

'I was delayed. Duldo Armstrong's store has been quite busy lately, what with all the hurly-burly of Yule around, and there was a heavy snow storm going on outside.' Frodo explained, shaking his dark brown tresses of the white stuff and warming his hands by the fireplace for a moment. 'Here, Uncle,' Frodo suddenly said, reaching deep into his ice-encrusted pockets and pulling out the bag of tea leaves, tossing it to Bilbo. 'That's all they had left. We'll have to look for more in the morning. In the meantime, I must be off to bed.' Frodo said, stretching his limbs with a short grunt.

'But it's only just turned eight-thirty.' Paladin indicated, tapping the mouth of his slender wooden pipe on his chin.

'And there's company, Frodo. Be polite, will you, and sit down?' Bilbo said, gesturing towards the small guest's chair beside his.

'And dinner's to be served, soon. Aren't you hungry?' Paladin asked. Frodo could smell a ham baking as well as green beans and potatoes boiling in the kitchen. He wasn't too hungry, though, so he decided to pass.

'No, thank you,' Frodo said, receiving shocked stares from the adults. 'I've had rather of a long day, Uncle. I'm completely worn-out. If I stay up any longer, I fear my eyes may roll out of their sockets and into the fire.' Frodo declared, stifling a deep yawn.

'It's all right, Bilbo. He can go to bed if he wants. He does look rather beat.' Eglantine observed, rocking a sleeping Pippin in her arms.

'Well, all right, then. Off you go, lad.' Bilbo said, waving Frodo away with a friendly smile.

'G'night, Frodo.' Said Paladin behind his pipe.

'Sleep soundly.' Eglantine well-wished, smiling again. Frodo nodded curtly.

'I will, thank you.' Frodo thanked, bowing gentlemanly. He then turned to Bilbo and, wishing him good night, turned to the hall and walked to his chamber.

Shutting the door quickly behind him, he picked up his nightshirt and trousers off the floor and changed into them, contemplating on the day as he went.

"I still can't believe that Bilbo is to teach me to dance. Bilbo! Of all people! O, horror of horrors! My friends will never put this down! I'll forever be known as 'Frodo, the hobbit who danced with his male cousin'. O, Bilbo's so… old… and clumsy… Let's hope that his feet don't crush mine."

Frodo stopped to chuckle at that. He then hopped into bed, pulling his thick winter covers up to his chest, and grabbing one of Bilbo's old books, a faded sable-colored one set with cracked gold lettering off the floor.

Reading the title: The Eating Habits of Fungi, Frodo put on a sickened face, but decided to read a bit anyway. He immediately put the book down beside his bed when he read the gruesome descriptions of fungus growth and how it can eat away at your skin (a hare-brained notion, but it had some half-truth in it).

After saying his nightly prayers, he blew out the candle on the stand beside his bed. He then laid his tired head on his goose-down pillow, closing his eyes in concentration, though he was kept awake by the incessant chatter outside his door. Frodo blocked them out by listening to the sound of his own rustling, cold-infested breathing, as well as the tree branch that was scraping against his window with the strong winter wind.

Suddenly, the young Master Baggins was overcome by a bombardment of booming sneezes, each one louder and more earth-shattering than the last- 'achoo… achoo, achoo, ACHOOOOO!'

Hearing many a shouted 'bless you', Frodo sniffled, laid his head back on his pillow, and closed his eyes once more, slowly drifting off into a deep, extraordinary sleep.

Hoorah for crappy jokes! Those darned Hobbits and their whacked-out senses of humor. (Cheesy smile and laugh- dark-faced-ness) That chapter was pretty much pointless… Yeah… REPLY, PLEASE!