Vegetable Thieves I

He was already swinging by the time he recognized the voices. Too late to stop he tried to angle the swing downward and was rewarded with a dull *thunk* rather than a satisfying *clang*.

The resulting "ow" confirmed the identity of his opponent.

"What are you two doing here?" Sam demanded. He squinted into the pre-dawn grey towards their shapes, resolving their features as he moved closer.

"What'd you do that for?" Merry responded, stepping out of the rows of high corn towards Sam.

Pippin just looked down at the armload of vegetables he'd dropped and seemed confused. "You hit me with a skillet, Sam," he managed at last, seeming puzzled by the whole thing.

"Don't see as it did any damage," Sam replied, running his hand over the skillet to be sure it was unharmed. Satisified his cookware was intact, he turned his attention back to the vegetable thieves. "And what are you doing sneaking around out here at this time of morning?"

"We've come to visit Frodo," Merry told him cheerily, handing his armload of pilfered vegetables to Pippin and kneeling to retrieve what had been dropped.

"The sun's not yet up," Sam retorted suspiciously. "And why are you out here taking vegetables from Mr. Frodo's garden?"

"We're just helping you out, Sam. Bringing in a few choice morsels to add to the table."

Sam just snorted and gathered up the herbs that had fallen when he'd swung the skillet.

"I've lost my tomato," Pippin said, earning a curious look from Merry.

"I think Sam hit you harder than we thought, Pip. Your brain's addled."

"How can you tell?" muttered Sam under his breath.

"Let's take these in while Sam finishes out here, Pip. I think you need to sit down." Merry steered his cousin towards the door into the kitchen at Bag End.

Sam retrieved the rest of the herbs for Mr. Frodo's omelet and got up, brushing himself off and muttering under his breath about hard-headed Tooks and troublemaking Brandybucks.

Why if he hadn't heard them sneaking about in the garden when he'd been getting the dried herbs from the shed... he harrumphed and shook his head. Well, it was just good that he stopped them or Mr. Frodo might have to go without some of the best of this year's growing.

And Sam wouldn't have any of that.

The vegetables were in a heap on the table but there was no sign of the troublesome pair when Sam entered the kitchen. He set his supplies aside and checked the baking before going to look for them.

A shout followed by shrieks of laughter and running feet stopped him. Disturbing Mr. Frodo of course. He should have known.

Pippin arrived first at a dead run and nearly collided with Sam. The older hobbit caught him and made him stop. He was none the worse for being skillet-whacked it seemed.

Merry ran in, dodging Sam and grabbing his arms, turning him into the path of a disheveled Frodo.

Sam almost stopped breathing.

Frodo was in his nightshirt, his hair mussed from sleep and a lovely pink tint on his cheeks. His eyes were alight with laughter.

"Hullo, Sam. Seems we have company this morning."

"Aye, Mr. Frodo."

"And they've been at your vegetables, it seems." Frodo said, eyeing the pile.

"Just helping out, cousin," Merry cut in quickly.

"Like you helped me by dragging me out of bed?"

"You were awake!" Merry protested.

Sam stepped out of the way and went to the sink where the beginnings of breakfast were waiting. He tuned out the familiar bantering between Frodo and Merry while he calculated what he'd need to fill the extra stomachs.

Frodo came over to stand beside Sam, close enough to speak softly in his ear. "Think they should be punished?" he asked, smiling.

"Here!" Pippin roused himself to protest. "I already got skillet-whacked for my troubles." He rubbed his shoulder to illustrate.

"Sam?" Frodo asked curiously, laughter bright in his eyes.

"I heard them in the garden, Mr. Frodo. Thought they were vegetable thieves, seeing as they were sneaking about at such a time of morning." He directed the last to the two unrepentant hobbits sorting their plunder into neat piles.

Frodo laughed, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing it lightly in thanks for his loyalty. Letting go he reached over and selected a paring knife, handing it to Merry.

"You picked them, cousin. You can prepare them. Sam's got enough to do, and I imagine you're hungry."

"We are!" Pippin stated emphatically, frowning when Frodo handed him a small brush for cleaning vegetables.

"The sooner you start, the sooner we all eat, Pip. As for me, I will go get properly dressed to entertain my guests." He turned to go but Sam stopped him with a touch, holding out a cup of steaming tea.

Frodo thanked him, carrying it away, laughing over his cousin's protests.

"Oh, I like that," Pip complained. "Not a sip for us, I suppose, and we're guests."

The last thing Frodo heard before closing his bedroom door was Sam's indignant snort and the clank of a skillet on the stove.