Sam looked all about him, unable to sleep. He had dozed, but was quickly awoken by nothing in particular other than his own whirling thoughts.

Sam looked to where the other three hobbits had all been snoring peacefully when he fell asleep. One was missing. Sam shook the sleep from his head and looked closer; it was Mr. Frodo who was missing.

Despite how peaceful Lothlórien was, despite the fact that he had been assured no danger would befall the fellowship there, Sam panicked. It was his duty to protect Frodo, and his master was missing!

Sam shook Pippin to wake him.

---

Pippin groaned and rolled away from the offending person who was shaking him out of a pleasant sleep.

"G'way," he murmured.

"Pippin, wake up!"

Pippin stopped rolling away and turned, looking at Sam. He bit his lip against saying something particularly rude and waited for Sam to announce why he insisted on waking him up. Seconds ticked by, and Pippin yawned.

"What?" Pippin asked when Sam did nothing but stare at him.

"Mr. Frodo's gone missing."

Pippin froze. Of course, with Sam it was always about Frodo. Pippin almost felt jealous and was more than a little tempted to roll back into his original position and go back to sleep.

"No," Pippin said roughly and turned his back rigidly to Sam. It had to be about Frodo; it couldn't have been about...

Pippin didn't even finish the thought.

---

Sam was shocked when Pippin snapped at him and turned away. Sure, Pippin wasn't what Sam would call a morning person, but Pippin also rarely acted so callously. It was so much unlike Pippin that Sam wasn't sure what to say to the younger Hobbit.

After a time passed, Sam settled on the simplest thing he could think to ask. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Pippin spoke too soon, and his voice was too strained. Sam decided it was a bad time to point out that Pippin was a bad liar.

"I certainly don't believe that. I'm no fool, Peregrin Took."

Pippin sighed. "I don't think you a fool, Sam, it's just..." Pippin sighed. "It's not important. Silly, really."

Sam felt sympathetic. "Now there, Pippin, nothing is silly if it bothers you so much that it makes you rude."

Pippin, in an action a little more like him, pulled his blanket over his head.

"Well?" Sam prompted. He wasn't going to let a little thing like a blanket stop him from helping a friend.

Pippin spoke in a very quiet, very rushed voice, "It's just that you love Frodo."

Sam was surprised. That wasn't quite what he had expected. "Of course I do," he responded without hesitation. "He's my master and I care for him very much."

Pippin shook his head under the blanket and sat up, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and staring at Sam.

"That's not what I meant, Sam."

Sam caught his meaning, but is surprised him so much that he wasn't sure what to say.

"Not like that," Sam finally replied. "I admire him, and I would go to the ends of Middle Earth with him, but it's never been romantic."

"You could fool anyone, the way you dote on him."

"It's my duty to look after him," Sam told Pippin very matter-of-factly, "and I take that duty very seriously." Sam couldn't figure out how Pippin could act so upset. He suddenly realized that Pippin was jealous!

"Pippin, are you in love with Mr. Frodo?"

Pippin almost seemed to jump back. "No."

"Then..." Sam paused. "Why are you acting like this?"

Pippin chuckled softly. "Sam, for such a nice gentlehobbit who is no fool, you seem to be quite talented at not seeing the obvious."

"I'm not following you."

Pippin looked down and mumbled something too soft for Sam to catch. After a moment he looked at Sam, and leaning a bit closer he said in a soft voice, "I'm in love with you, Sam."

Sam sat still as a statue, his eyes wide. "Me?" he practically squeaked.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, I..." Sam was still too shocked to know what to say. He was flattered, shy, and curious all at the same time, and it was all quiet overwhelming to a Hobbit who had just woken up. "Why would you be in love with me?"

Pippin shrugged. "I just am." Sam stared, and Pippin continued somewhat hurriedly, "That is, you have been for the most part you were always nice to me and you never treated me like I was below you for any reason and..." Pippin stopped, obviously flustered.

Sam was almost magically aware of how Pippin was leaning a little closer, close enough that Sam could feel the warmth of his body, and how intently Pippin seemed to be watching him. Sam looked up at Pippin, but before he could say anything Pippin filled the space between them and placed an almost chaste kiss to Sam's lips. Pippin then returned to where he had been sitting, and Sam missed the temporary warmth, slight as it had been, that Pippin's body had provided. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to say.

"I'm sorry," Pippin said, his gaze falling to the ground. That had not been the reaction he had hoped for.

"Now wait one minute, Pippin," Sam said softly, reaching forward and placing a hand under Pippin's chin, forcing him to look up. Sam smiled. "If you would only give me a moment to gather my wits, you might like what I have to say."

The look on Pippin's face almost reminded Sam of child being told that the old fairy tales were true, and that there was a treasure at the end of every rainbow; if Sam had to choose only one word to describe it, hopeful would be the best. "And have you gathered you wits?"

Sam had, in fact, gathered his wits to him, but he decided to pretend that he hadn't. "No," Sam told him, and Pippin's expression seemed to fade a bit, and Sam quickly added, "But I have discovered one thing."

"And that is?"

Rather than speak, Sam moved closer to Pippin and kissed him. Pippin, though surprised at first, responded quickly, trying to get closer to Sam than he already was; the kiss was broken in that attempt.

They were both silent for a moment, and then Sam said slowly, "I figure that I pity all the Hobbit lasses who will miss out on kissing you."

Pippin smiled broadly and turned a cherry red. "Thank you." Impulsively, Pippin kissed Sam again, throwing his arms around Sam's shoulders. In his enthusiasm they fell over. Pippin sprawled over Sam and turned a brighter shade of red than Sam thought possible.

"You have too much energy for your own good," Sam teased. Pippin smiled sheepishly.

"Perhaps I meant to do this," he told Sam, trying to save a bit of dignity. To punctuate his point, he leaned down to give Sam a proper kiss, tired of chaste, teasing kisses.

They heard someone clear their throat, and they turned their heads in unison to see who it was. Frodo stood behind them, an amused smile on his face.

"Just wondering who," Frodo said. "Sorry to disturb you." He walked to his own bed, muttering something that sounded like "about time."

Sam looked at Pippin, his own cheeks turning red. "Perhaps we should go back to bed."

Pippin nodded, but not before stealing one last kiss from Sam. He then got off of Sam, returning to the patch of ground he had called his bed.

"Good night, Sam," he said as he curled under his blankets, smiling.

"Good night."


end