I own nothing. I am making no profit. It starts rather slow, but gets a bit better after they finally leave Bilbo's house. Also, this is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction. Please be kind.

Bilbo sat outside the door of his smial, smoking his favorite pipe. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the air was full of the smell of green growing things. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and just enjoying everything. He was completely at peace.

Which was why the intrusion of an elderly male of the Big Folk was so unwelcome. Not to mention the frankly creepy way the old man was looking at him. However, he was a Baggins and a mostly proper Hobbit. His Aunt had taught him proper manners, and his parents before her. They would be very disappointed if a little shock kept him from greeting someone properly, even someone such as this. Or perhaps, especially someone such as this.

His Aunt didn't have a problem with a bit of appropriately placed rudeness with family or neighbors she thought deserved it.

In any case as he looked up at the stranger on his step his manners kicked in and he gave a polite greeting. "Good morning."

The response that came solidified his opinion that this large interruption to his morning's peace was bad news.

"What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

That tore it. Humor the fellow until he went away, preferably quickly. If that didn't work, evasion tactics. "Er, all of them at once, I suppose."

To learn the elder's business, and possibly be able to direct him elsewhere, he added "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen. I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

Bilbo felt his insides freeze. That word. Even his Aunt never used that word for their activities. Everyone knew better than to use that word, even his Took cousins! Feeling suddenly much less cheerful, and thus much less willing to humor an old mad man, he started babbling.

"An (shudder) adventure? No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree, would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner!" He could feel fine tremors working their way up his back. He needed to do something, quickly!

Whatwhatwhat...he lunged for his mail box. Gathering the mail quickly (thanking all the Valar that there was actually some mail in there) he made for the house with one last "Good morning!"

He had almost made it when he was brought up short by this unwelcome stranger's next words.

"To think that I should have lived to be good- morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"

"I beg your pardon?" He turned to look the fellow over closer. Tall gray hat, long wooden walking stick, gray clothes...he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He was pretty sure he knew who this was, and if he was right...well, nothing good could come of it. Though his Aunt might be delighted. Thinking of her, and her probable response he tried to calm himself. It might not be him, after all.

The gray-clad fellow was continuing to speak. Oh no what had he said? Something about him changing? Not for the better? Well, that was rather rude...still best to be sure. Couldn't hurt to ask, could it?"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf, and Gandalf means...me!"

He knew it. It had started out as such a lovely morning too. Only one thing to do. "Gandalf? Not Gandalf, the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks? Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! Well! I had no idea you were still in business."

A little compliment, a little 'oh that was forever ago', and a little 'I haven't thought of you in ages please leave me alone'. Any hobbit would have gotten that message. Either this wizard didn't understand it, or he was just ignoring it, for he continued talking.

"And where else should I be?"

"Well..." Definitely didn't get the message.

"Well, I'm pleased you remember something about me, even if it is only my fireworks."

Oh for the love of...Go AWAY! Oh what's he saying now?

"Well that's decided. It'll be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

Wait what? Others? What others? Bilbo found himself sputtering almost incoherently. "Inform the who...? What...?! No! No! No, wait." He rushed to his door. His Aunt could NOT hear of this! "We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not... I suggest you try over the hill or...across the water. Good morning."

He quickly went inside and closed the door. Please let him go away, pleasepleaseplease...what was that sound? He almost had a heart attack when he looked out the window and saw an eye staring back. Leaping back to hide, he did his best to calm down. He was rather disappointed in himself, actually. He'd thought he'd been getting better these last few years.

As he raised his still trembling hands up to stare at them, he thought of all the work his dear Aunt had put in to help him overcome his grief. Even giving up her own dreams to take care of a scared and grieving tween. He knew it hadn't been easy for her. Yet here he was, sending away someone who could have gotten her dreams back on track. He wasn't a tween anymore! He was a hobbit grown!

He let his hands fall with a sigh. He was terrified of losing her also, it was true. But perhaps it was time to try to do something for her. If that wizard came back...well, they would see. If she was going anywhere, though...could he perhaps dare to go with her? He didn't know.