Disclaimer: No, no ownership here. Not even a vague, elusive hint of it. The honors go to Joss Whedon and his gang for Buffy The Vampire Slayer. J. R. Tolkien and his estate own The Hobbit as well as The Lord Of The Rings.

I like Bilbo Baggins and The Hobbit. Sadly, not that many crossovers are floating around out there with Bilbo in them. Those that exist usually take place after his mountain adventures or in the very beginning of his journey. So, I figured I'll write a little Something-Something scene on the Lonely Mountain.

Bilbo and the Dwarves get an unpleasant surprise.

Strange Surprises

Bilbo Baggins' throat suddenly constricted. He was unable to breathe, try as hard as he could-Around him, he could hear the Dwarves choking and gasping. The little Hobbit compared the obstruction jamming shut his nose and mouth, as an invisible blob of giant spider silk keeping him from drawing air. In desperation, Bilbo staggered away from the open door, and the noxious fumes emanating from it.

That he was partly crouched over, moving on three limbs, was no concern to Bilbo. All that he noticed was the growing darkness eating away at the edges of his sight, and the rushing, near hissing, sound overwhelming his hearing. The little Hobbit gasped and gasped, and abruptly, his constriction eased. Bilbo drew in sorely needed air into his lungs in heaving gulps, tears freely running down his cheeks, leaving streaks on his dirt smudged face. His sight cleared, and his hearing returned, leaving a loud, ringing sound in his ears-Hacking, gasping sounds around him could only be the Dwarves.

Bilbo came to notice he was down on his knees, and he was not along-Hardy, strong people Dwarves may be, but the fumes pouring out of the open doorway overwhelmed even them!

A burglar? Mr. Baggins exclaimed to himself in disbelief. They need a burglar? Whatever for, now? Honestly, if the smell coming in from that tunnel is any evidence, Smaug is well past caring who, or what, walks into his lair!

Indeed, months later, after removing the decaying carcass, the odor of rotting dragon clung to every object and surface in the mountain. Aside from the mystery of what killed the great Smaug, at a far corner, they made a curious discovery-A long, yellow, metal machine, with large, black, wheels made out of an unknown, black material.

If they could have read English, the letters on the side of the bus would have spelled out-SUNNYDALE.

Far from the Lone Mountain, under the stars, behind the protection of a wooden palisade, a tiny Human village prepared itself for sleep. Chores had been done, dinner prepared and eaten, and most of its inhabitants had taken to their beds. In one of the houses, a golden haired woman sat by the fireplace, a whetstone in one hand, and a fine, bright sword in the other. The crackling and occasional pop coming from the fireplace accompanied the regular sound of the whetstone passing up along the length of the sword blade's bone cutting sharp edge.

The front door opened, allowing a burst of chilly air to run through the house. The door closed, and after a few seconds, the sounds of feet, slow and heavy, on the wooden plank floor became the figure of Dawn Summers. In her left hand she held a wooden bowl, in her right she grasped a large, wooden spoon; Dawn used it to scoop up the greenish-brown flecked ice cream into her mouth.

Buffy stopped what she was doing to stare in amusement at her little sister.

"Ice cream still hasn't giving out?"

"I'm on seconds, here," said Dawn, licking the spoon. She sat down on the stool next to Buffy. Dawn scooped up another spoonful, and casually commented, "Willow made plenty this time around. If you want to change your mind, you can still get some."

Buffy made a face and shook her head. "Like I told Wils-Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not into pine nut spearmint flavored ice cream."

Dawn shrugged and shoved the loaded spoon into her mouth. "Your loss, then." She said, around the spoon. "Anyway, it tastes way better than troll toe jam."

The Slayer gagged. "Poor Xander! The only guy I know of that can go out on a little fishing trip, and end up under a troll's foot being ordered to 'lick it', after an hours long 'discussion' on the subject of foot fungus, foot rot, and long yellow toe nails!"

"Yep, yep," Dawn agreed, obliviously eating her ice cream. "Good thing trolls in this world turn into stone when hit with sunlight."

"Good thing we were in the area and heard him screaming for help," Buffy added, frowning. "If Faith, or God forbid, Kennedy, had been the ones lifting that statue off him, they never would have stop talking about it. At least, we ended up with a nifty new statue."

"Hmmmph," Dawn nodded, she pulled the spoon out of her mouth. "Gotta keep an eye on it, though . . .Xander might have an 'accident' around it."

"Yeah, thought he might be a little ticked off," Buffy shrugged. Her face, shadowed by the dancing, flickering, light coming from the fireplace, became thoughtful. "Hey, Dawnie . . .need a second opinion here . . .Does this trump the dragon? I mean, in the weird slayage department, involving a Scoobie."

Dawn stared at Buffy in disbelief. "Are you nuts? Andrew killed over two dozen giant spiders, just by stunning them with his high pitch screams, and having them fall into their own webs and sticking there! Besides, a dragon, Buffy! A freakin' fire breathing dragon!"

Buffy knew what her sister meant-When the school bus drove through the portal, they went from a warm, sunlit, Southern Californian desert to a dark cavern. The smooth asphalt road they had been racing on, replaced by several feet of empty air. They came down hard on the only spot in the cavern not completely covered with gold, popping loose two wheels. Buffy on the roof of the bus, was the only one who saw the wheels bounce straight into the mouth, and down the throat, of a startled awake, formidable looking, red and gold dragon, choking it dead within minutes of swallowing the tires.

The dead dragon's hoard provided the destitute Slayers not just with money, but with weapons and armor. The latter a clear necessity when dealing with things like orcs, wargs, trolls, giants, horse size evil spiders and other big bads. Giles, Xander, and Robin negotiated the purchase of a large piece of property several weeks travel away from the lair-With a recently abandoned village included, free of charge.

Buffy recalled the dragon's hoard, and it's unchanged appearance, even after they had packed so much of it away, with Willow's help, in subspace pockets. She was just glad they had finished their business and left the mountain lair before the sweetish taint in the air became too foul to endure or ignore.

"Meh . . .On second thought . . .Dawn, forget it."

"Okay," said Dawn, finishing up her ice cream. She got up, and walked away towards the kitchen, empty bowl in hand.

Buffy listened to Dawn stomping around the kitchen, before going back to working the whetstone on the sword's edge. A soothing and necessary activity-Arda was no Sunnydale. No Turok'Han rampaging in it's forests, but it still had monsters to Slay. And even if they never returned to their demon infested Earth, Buffy reflected, living a quiet life on Middle Earth? Buff snorted in derision. Yeah, right . . .The Slayer suspected it was just so not happening!

Okay, for the record, Xander's troll was female. Even in a new world, Xander has a way with the ladies. While his mind control powers didn't completely work on the troll, it did keep him alive. I'm basing that decision on his powers wonky track record-They worked on Angel/Angelus, but not on Buffy or various other demons.

For anyone wondering, Xander admits to mind control powers in "The Replacement". And if you think about it, what normal Human is going to survive getting knocked on the head with the Troll hammer?

As for Andrew, I'm not really sure what the deal is with spiders and sound. But I decided to put it in there anyway.

This story is now complete. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Thank you, and goodbye!