Disclaimer: I own neither the world nor characters nor any other intellectual property of The Hobbit, Sherlock or the How It Should Have Ended project; be advised that this fanfiction includes direct quotes that are not specifically marked. I make no money from writing this (heavens forbid!).

A/N:I am sure this has been done a hundred times before, but as I haven't read it yet, I decided to write my own Hobbit/Sherlock/HISHE x-over. Please be lenient - the Nazgûl sitting behind me in the theatre made me do it! :P

WARNING: Mild spoilers for third parts.

Rebirth

by Dime

"I WILL BURN THE HEART OUT OF YOU!"

The little person took a step back from the roaring dragon and blinked in confusion. "That... that's not quite right," he mumbled uncertainly.

Smaug had not expected the tiny thief to be so very unimpressed by his display of might. Startled, he sank back on all fours and cocked his head to direct one eye fully on the self-proclaimed luck-wearer, barrel-rider, hill-dweller and so many more intriguing little details, not all of which he had yet figured out. Smaug loved riddles. He knew all dragons did, and yet somehow he was convinced it was worse for him. Were it not for the entertainment of inventorying every last piece of treasure just once, then re-arranging all the items again and again in the caverns of his mind - by size, by material, by craftsmanship, by the way they refracted the light of his flames, any many a thousand other aspects - he would have died long since of the pure and simple, undiluted agony of being BORED.

He had not had much contact with humans, elves, or others of their type since claiming this mountain, yet he still remembered enough of their interactions that he was quite positive he could deduce every last detail about any of them that stepped into his realm.

Except for this little thief, it appeared.

"What did you say?" he asked, intrigued. He watched as the little man absent-mindedly pocketed the Arkenstone, not even appearing to notice he had picked it up. He'd have to take that back before he ate the thief, he thought humorously, lest the jewel sit badly in his innards.

Startled out of some deep thought, the little person looked straight into his eye. There really was something familiar about this one, he thought once again. He had never encountered one of that species, he was certain - the smell was all wrong -, and yet his choice of words, his bearing... What was it about this riddle-maker that tugged at something in his mind like he, who never forgot a thing in all his years, might have in fact forgotten something of true importance?

"I said... that's not quite right," the little man repeated, his voice betraying his own confusion. "This may sound a mite odd, but it seems to me that you should not be the one to say that line. It... it doesn't fit." His mouth twisted in obvious distaste at his own ineptitude to explain.

Smaug ticked the claws of one front leg ponderously on the coins beneath. "Hmmmm, and what do you think would suit me better?", he asked.

The little man hesitated. "I... I keep expecting you to berate me for being slow and empty-headed. And for some odd reason, looking at you inspires an increasing urge to go to Farmer Cotton's place to get some milk."

"I would prefer you get me the farmer and the cow, if it's all the same to you," Smaug grinned.

The little man pulled a face.

"Not good?" Smaug joked.

"A bit, yes," the man answered without pause. Then they both startled. "That," the little man said. "That."

"Indeed," the dragon agreed. There was something about these words that touched an apparently forgotten, buried part of himself deep inside.

"There is something entirely unusual about this," the hobbit said to the dragon. "I believe it might be wise to find out more about it."

The serpentine head nodded. "Could be dangerous," he said with a pleased rumble. For some unfathomable reason, he was sure that the little man in front of him was no more disturbed by that thought than he was.

"I assume you have company waiting for you somewhere above," Smaug pondered. "Would you like to climb up to reassure them, then come back to me once everyone is fast asleep? We could work on solving this case of unprecedented familiarity together."

The little man's eyes were glowing with delight. "Oh my God, yes!"

When Bilbo Baggins returned to the Shire, he was just in time to see all his earthly possessions being carried off by a horde of happy hobbits.

"What is going on here?!"

It took him but a moment to figure out who was robbing him.

The Sackville-Bagginses. Of course.

"Very well. Lobelia, I give you this one chance to set this right. Make sure that all of my things are returned to me by nightfall - and I mean all of it, including those spoons! - and I will forget this ever happened. Do you understand?"

"But my dear man," the woman simpered, "whatever are you talking about? This is the estate of the late Bilbo Baggins, who-"

"Lobelia," Bilbo said in a deliberately calm and friendly manner. "Do not play me for a fool. You will undo this or so help me, you will regret it!"

Lobelia Sackville-Baggins looked at her relative with disdain. How would a man like him ever go through with any threat? Admittedly, he looked exotic, what with that strange cloak, and in the name of all things shiny, was that a shield across his shoulders? Still, ridiculous to think of Bilbo Baggins as dangerous. "Or what?" she said loftily. "You will whack me over the head with that trinket?"

The hobbit before her smiled widely. Oddly, it was at this moment she became more than a little alarmed. "I will not do anything to you, my dear," he said pleasantly. "But I fear my new flatmate might take exception to your show of bad manners. - Smaug, quit lurking!" he shouted.

"But I had such fun singling out the ones who were going to steal from you for later pursuit," the dragon suddenly appearing out of thin air answered with a predatory grin.

It was quite impressive how quickly all of Bilbo's things were returned. Did not even take an hour.

Many years later, a young Frodo Baggins was sitting peaceably in a field half a day's walk from Bag End with his uncle and his partner in crime-solving... though admittedly, they had to fly far in order to come across anything more interesting than a stolen spoon; hobbits were neither great thinkers nor particularly bloody-minded, Baggins-born counter-examples not withstanding. ...when a wizard approached them with an intense look on his face.

"My dear Bilbo," he said, putting on a warm smile.

"Let me guess," rumbled the dragon, "you have finally come to inform us that we must destroy our precious ring."

The wizard stopped short, looking completely non-plussed. "How did you know...?"

"Obvious," Smaug purred while Frodo and Bilbo mouthed the word in time with him. Then they sat back comfortably to listen to the deductions sure to follow. Smaug did not disappoint.

"The writing on it is in Black Speech. The number of rings of power forged was quite limited, and as all except the One Ring are accounted for in some way or other, it was only a matter of time until someone figured out that a hobbit and a dragon with delusions of past grandeur might not be the best people to keep such a dangerous item. And it took you only, oh, seventy-odd years to come to the conclusion I arrived at two weeks after first breathing on the ring and correctly identifying the language of the surfacing inscription. I must congratulate you." Sarcasm dripped heavily from his every word.

One wizard was left speechless in surprise while two hobbits shared an indulgent look. Yes, their dragon was a genius. Like anyone in Middle Earth still wasn't aware.

Gandalf took a moment to process the information given. Then he visibly rallied and continued pursuit of his objective. "Then I am sure you will agree that you must start on a quest at once without further delay. I shall go consult with Saruman, and I suggest that you go to Rivendell and ask for Elrond's advice in this matter as it is really quite -"

"Do you enjoy the grey emptiness in that head of yours? It must be so peaceful," the dragon snarled.

"Smaug, be nice," Bilbo scolded mildly. "He means well. But do tell, what set you off? Is this about Saruman or merely your usual dislike of all things elven?"

"They are still denying me access to the books I need to investigate the truth behind the improbable deeds of their legendary heroes! And they navigate with the help of the stars!" Smaug said it like it was a cardinal sin. Spitting a small flame in disgust before he returned to what had actually given him offense. "Sssaruman should not be your chosen confidant!" he hissed at Gandalf. "Have you been to Isengard lately, wizard? No? We flew over it just last week, and I will tell you now that although Curumir may once have been one of the Istari, he has most definitely fallen to the shadow. If you go to him, you will only lose. No, I have a much better idea..."

And so it was that early in the year 3017 of the Third Age of Middle Earth, a party of two hobbits and one rather overwhelmed wizard were sat on a red dragon headed due east with a mission to dump a mysterious and powerful magical artefact into a fiery mountain.

"Are you sure we cannot keep it?," Smaug asked petulantly. "There will be even less mysterious deaths once it is gone, and I am bored already."

Bilbo patted the side of his neck soothingly. "There, there," he said with a mocking tone, then grew a trifle more serious. "Remember the last time you took on a game that was a bit too big for you? You died, he died, you both came back, and then we all died. And as far as either one of us can tell, we were stranded in this world you find so boring right afterwards. If you get us killed here, just imagine the boredom that will follow!"

Gandalf looked at them both with his eyebrows raised all the way past the brim of his hat. Frodo caught his eye and just shook his head with a shrug. Not worth questioning, trust me on this! You really, truly do not want to know!

Gandalf took the advice. Sometimes, even for a wizard in Middle Earth, it was better just not to ask.

The End.

A/N: Totally out of whack, I know. Still... reviews, please? ^^ - Dime