Excellent Baby-Sitter Material Emsiecat

Summary:

Thought I'd give a prompt of alkjira's a try today: Primula and Drogo are in a car accident and an inexperienced Bilbo has to take care of Frodo whilst they recover. He sucks at it, Thorin helps. They're attracted to each other of course muahahaha!

I aplogise in advance. I know NOTHING of childcare or of babies and toddlers, so hope i didn't screw it up too badly.

Enjoy the fluff!

"Hand Frodo over to me, now!"

The voice was deep, angry, and vaguely threatening, and caused Bilbo to startle something awful as he held a fussing, whimpering Frodo as securely as possible in one arm, and a stuffed to capacity duffle bag in the other.

"I beg your pardon?" Bilbo fairly sputtered as he fumbled with the keys to Primula and Drogo's house; turning to face the owner of the voice, he made sure to tighten his grip on his cousins' son slightly.

"Take what possessions you have there, but leave the child be, I will not let you kidnap him."

Bilbo finally got a good look at the man addressing him and felt a sense of foreboding. He was much taller than Bilbo, solidly built, and had a menacing look about him as if he might try and take Frodo away by force if Bilbo did not comply.

It took a few moments of gawping and blinking and poor Frodo starting to cry again due to the cold night air and tense atmosphere surrounding him, but finally understanding began to dawn in Bilbo's mind.

"You think I'm a kidnapper? A- a burglar!?" Bilbo puffed up, wariness replaced with indignant anger. "How dare you, sir! This is my cousins' home and I'm here to look after Frodo."

"Your cousins?"

"Yes, yes Primula and Drogo Baggins are my cousins; I'm Bilbo Baggins, though I might very well ask just who you are. Why are you skulking outside my cousins' home at night and demanding that I give Frodo to you?"

The menacing glower from before was replaced by a much softer expression, though suspicion still tugged at the stranger's lips making him appear more grim than Bilbo was comfortable with.

"I'm Thorin," the man mumbled, and upon stepping into the porch light so that Bilbo could see him better, Bilbo had to admit he didn't look nearly so intimidating when his face was lined with gentle concern. "I'm a neighbour of your cousins... why are they not home?"

"You're Thorin?" Bilbo blinked in surprise. From Primula's delighted appraisals of the man to Bilbo on numerous occasions, he had not expected Thorin to look quite like this.

The Thorin she had mentioned was a soft and caring man, who loved to spoil his own nephews rotten, and now that they were both growing like weeds and more independent, he adored spending time looking after Frodo too when his neighbours asked.

Bilbo certainly had not expected a tall man with long unruly hair, a beard, and a general air of a biker gang member (complete with leather jacket) to be the same neighbour that his cousins spoke so fondly of.

"Yes," Thorin looked all at once rather embarrassed and rushed to explain himself. "Forgive me, I saw the porch light was on when I went to lock my garage for the night; Drogo never leaves it on... then I saw you on the doorstep with a large bag and Frodo in your arms and... well... I apologise I rather jumped to conclusions."

Bilbo felt the last of his ire melt away and he offered the man a hesitant, tired grin as he hushed Frodo. "No, it's fine; I can see why you would think the worst..."

He paused, fishing awkwardly in his pocket for Frodo's teething ring as Thorin hovered protectively beside him. Bilbo should have probably felt offended, but to be honest he was more than aware that his grip on the tiny child, bag, and keys must look very precarious at best.

Remembering Thorin's concerned question, Bilbo hurried to answer it. "I'm- I'm afraid Primula and Drogo were both involved in a car accident. I was babysitting Frodo at my home at the time-"

Thorin looked aghast. "Are they- what happened? Will they be alright?"

"Yes, yes. They're... in a rather sorry state the both of them, but Primula was well enough to joke, and Drogo conscious enough to complain, so I'm thinking they'll be right as rain in no time."

Weeks, the doctors had said, and several more of after care following their release from hospital, but he didn't want to worry Thorin any more than necessary.

The tall man huffed a loud sigh of relief and Bilbo felt his lips curl a little fondly. Any man caring enough to worry over his cousins so, could not be a bad sort in his book.

"I was babysitting Frodo when I got the call, as I said," Bilbo continued, finally handing the teething ring to Frodo who gnawed on it happily. "I rushed right over to the hospital with Frodo only to be told that I wouldn't be able to stay there with him, they didn't have the room. Primula suggested I come and stay here since it's what Frodo is used to and all his things are here, it made more sense than uprooting the poor lad. I went home and grabbed some things and well... here I am."

By now, Thorin had plucked the keys from Bilbo's fingers and was opening the front door for him, Bilbo nodding his thanks as he bustled inside to get poor Frodo out of the cold.

"Thank you, Thorin... Would you like a cup of tea before you go? I would like to thank you for showing so much concern for them-"

"Yes, thanks. I feel like I might need it after that news... you're sure they will be alright?" Thorin followed Bilbo readily into the hallway and removed his boots, looking quite at home, Bilbo noted.

"They'll be fine. It would take more than that to do those two in," Bilbo hummed as breezily as possible, but his stomach still twisted at the thought of how close a call it had truly been. It was the matter of a mere few inches, one of the matter-of-fact accident investigators had told him blandly... had their car been just a few inches to the left when the impact occurred... Bilbo swallowed thickly; Frodo would not have had either parent survive that night.

Letting the duffle bag drop from his shoulder and still cradling a snuffly Frodo, Bilbo shucked off his own shoes and wandered into the living room. He had not visited his cousins very often and was at a bit of a loss as to where everything was.

Thorin on the other hand, walked straight to the kitchen and began setting the kettle to boil, finding cups, tea bags, and spoons with ease.

Bilbo raised a brow as he shuffled through to the kitchen himself to watch, and Thorin glanced up with a shy sort of smile, correctly interpreting the unasked question.

"I've visited a few times, and looked after Frodo on a couple of occasions myself. Besides, the houses in this street all have a similar layout."

"Ah," Bilbo shifted Frodo in his arms awkwardly and the little child had fallen silent, watching Thorin with something like calm recognition. "I'm surprised they didn't ask you tonight then... to be honest you'd have been a far better option by the looks of things."

Thorin snorted, mildly amused as he stirred the two mugs of tea. "I was at work late, unfortunately. Not to mention I do not deal with family emergencies particularly well. You seem far more qualified for that, you're quite calm about all this, I think I may have lost my head."

"'rin," came a little peep from Bilbo's charge, and Bilbo turned to see his tiny nephew-cousin smiling happily at Thorin from around his teething ring. He should be sleeping by all accounts, and the slow blink of the young lad's eyes told Bilbo he was probably only semi-aware of the goings on around him.

"Hullo again, Frodo," Thorin offered the tiny tot a warm smile and reached over to tap a forefinger to the tip of Frodo's snub nose which sent the youngster burbling happily.

"Huh, he really likes you. He just sits and stares at me like I'm some kind of odd alien," Bilbo groused good-naturedly.

A small hand shot out quick as a flash and grabbed hold of a lock of Bilbo's hair before giving it a prodigiously strong tug for one so small. Bilbo yelped and winced. "Or he does that!"

"Maybe he's trying to tell you that you're holding him wrong," the words were spoken with careful mildness, Thorin peering at him casually from over the rim of his teacup as he took a sip, but Bilbo could tell it was something Thorin had been itching to say since they'd become acquainted on the front porch.

"I-I'm what?"

"He needs more support when you hold him- here let me-"

Setting aside his tea, Thorin reached out and Bilbo barely even hesitated before handing Frodo over.

He had half expected the child to tear up and squall as he had done with Primula when she had handed him to Bilbo earlier that day. However, Frodo actually kicked his little feet happily at the prospect of being held by ''rin' and settled down contentedly in the taller man's arms without a single complaint.

"He'll feel more secure this way, you see," he looked up from Frodo to offer Bilbo a cheeky grin. "And won't feel the need to hold onto your hair like reins."

Bilbo was impressed, but still couldn't help but feel a little bitter. It wasn't as if Bilbo was particularly good with children, but it would have been nice to have his own relative fond of him. Instead, the little one was fonder of a neighbour than his own 'uncle'.

Taking his chance whilst Thorin was holding Frodo, Bilbo finally drank his own tea, trying to hide the slightly childish pout that seemed to insist on coming unbidden to his face.

A good hour later when Frodo had been settled in his bed (with some help from Thorin of course, because naturally Frodo had refused to quieten down without a goodnight from his favourite neighbour as well), Bilbo saw Thorin to the front door and thanked him for his help.

"No problem at all. I'm not sure how much Primula and Drogo told you about me; but I have nephews myself, I helped raise them so all of this is old-hat to me."

Bilbo nodded and returned Thorin's rather charming smile with one of his own, feeling like a complete idiot for having felt even the slightest bit bitter before.

Walking down the path, Thorin turned at the last moment to call back genially. "Oh, and if you need anything, please feel free to ask."

Bilbo assured him he would be fine but would keep his offer in mind and waved him off before closing the door.

That assurance would last for as long as it would take Bilbo to attempt to and fail to feed Frodo his formula in the morning.

"Thorin! Thorin please help I think there's something wrong with him!"

A bleary face appeared at the door as Bilbo stood on Thorin's front porch, face flushed with stress and Frodo in his arms, the both of them looking utterly wretched. Frodo was squalling at the top of his lungs for some reason (probably noticing Bilbo's unhappy state of mind), and Bilbo looked as if he was going to have a complete meltdown... poor thing.

"What's the problem?" there was genuine concern in Thorin's voice, though since Frodo did not look injured or sick in anyway, the haze of sleep was yet to be banished from the helpful neighbour.

"He- he won't eat! I keep trying and he just keeps throwing it back up- and oh, Lord, I took him to the hospital to see Prim and Drogo yesterday! Did he catch something there do you think? It's probably meningitis right? I heard of that and-"

"Bilbo," Thorin had been trying to interrupt the non-stop blabbering since Bilbo started and was only now heard as he raised his voice; Bilbo faltering to a stop. "Frodo has stopped crying."

It was true, the little lad was wet-eyed and sniffling like mad, but he had stopped bawling the moment he caught sight of Thorin.

Bilbo looked pole-axed. "But he- he he was screaming and throwing up his milk and... Thorin what is wrong with him?"

Despite the early morning drama, Thorin had to smile. Bilbo was obviously a genuinely kind and loving uncle... cousin... whatever he was to Frodo, but he was very clearly out of his depth.

"Let's go back inside and try and figure it out, hm?" Thorin had a good idea, but he had already corrected Bilbo once, and he didn't want to make the poor overwrought man anymore crestfallen.

Not even bothering to get dressed, Thorin simply tightened his dressing gown around himself over his pyjamas and made a mad bare-footed hobble from his house to the Baggins'. The sight of it causing Frodo to actually giggle despite his tear washed face.

Following him in something of a daze, Bilbo decided Thorin had been completely wrong last night; he wasn't the calm one, Thorin was.

"You see, if you tilt it like this and let him drink slowly, he won't take in too much air or end up over-eating and throwing it back up," Thorin looked utterly unconcerned as once more he quickly reached the root of the issue and taught Bilbo where he was going wrong.

Bilbo looked utterly shame-faced and slumped down onto the couch next to the other man who was feeding the youngster with all the ease of a natural parent.

"Primula and Drogo need a medal... you need a medal," Bilbo mumbled, face in his hands and ears red with embarrassment.

Thorin chuckled at the sight and nudged Bilbo's side gently. "You're doing very well so far."

"Thorin, I came to your front door in slippers screaming about meningitis. I'm fairly certain this does not constitute for 'doing very well'."

"I'm not trying to give you a false compliment, Bilbo. You're willing to learn and you agreed to look after him. You're showing concern and good instincts, you're just a bit... inexperienced."

"You're just being nice..."

"That too, but I really do think you're doing well."

"... Thank you."

"You're welcome," Thorin shifted Frodo in his arms as the youngster continued to feed before looking around at the small pile of dirty dishes stacked on the coffee table. True, Bilbo was in a rather stressful situation, but he had seemed on first impressions like the fussy, house-proud sort. Thorin couldn't fathom why he hadn't set to work on the dishes yet.

Bilbo noticed his line of sight and groaned. "Not... not one word, alright. The dishwasher... that blasted thing is out for my blood I swear!"

Thorin attempted to mask his laughter with a cough, but Bilbo wasn't fooled for a moment, lightly smacking the other man's shoulder and offering him a wry smile. "If you're so smart, you can show me how to work it after Frodo's finished feeding."

Shaking his head, Thorin admitted defeat here. "I've not been here that frequently. I've no idea how to work Prim and Drogo's dishwasher either. Let's just wash them the old fashioned way."

"Oh... oh right of course," Bilbo looked sheepish again and Thorin gave him a sympathetic look. Only a night without sleep could cause a stutter in sensible thought processes that bad.

"I was mainly worried for Frodo, but the house unsettled me a bit too, noises and all that, you know," Bilbo flapped a hand sending suds everywhere as they washed dishes after putting Frodo down for a nap some time later.

"It is disconcerting to be in a home that's not your own sometimes, I agree."

"You're being nice again; just tell me I'm a hopeless home-body and have done with it."

"No, because I don't believe you are."

Their chatter was light-hearted and gentle, but Bilbo had noticed the blooming of something there, something indescribable and fond. He decided he would wait until Primula and Drogo were home again before he'd dare think on it though.

Still his traitorous mouth betrayed him. "So, you say you've looked after your nephews, but you have no kids of your own?"

The question was worded lightly, inconsequential, but Bilbo had an aching desire to drown himself in the dish water because it was quite obvious from his tone what exactly he was asking. There had been no sign of a family when Bilbo had come to Thorin's door that morning after all.

"No," Thorin's answer was equally measured and without consequence, though he did steal a look at Bilbo as he dried the dishes. "No wife or kids for me, no relationship to speak of actually, unless you'd like to count one old and infirm dog... that I really will have to go and take out for a walk sometime this morning."

"Oh, I'm not keeping you, am I?" Bilbo turned, concern touching his features.

"Not at all, as I said; old and infirm. To the end of the street and back is about as much exercise as old Bjarke gets these days. He probably hasn't even noticed I'm gone to tell you the truth."

"That's alright then, I'd hate for you to be neglecting the poor old dear in favour of helping a hopeless case like me."

"Not all that hopeless," Thorin said mildly. "And don't tell Bjarke, but I rather think you're better company."

Bilbo flushed and felt foolish for doing so, but responded all the same. "Lovely to know I beat a fragile old dog in being good company. I'm utterly flattered you know."

"Good I-"

Thorin's response was interrupted by a cry from Frodo as he woke, and Bilbo rolled his eyes, grinning as he dried off his hands. "Duty calls, hm?"

"Please don't think I'm above clinging onto your legs to keep you here, because I'm really not," Bilbo's voice was just a little desperate that evening as Thorin made to leave for good.

The day had gone remarkably well with Thorin's presence. There had been no more mishaps with Frodo, and Bilbo had heard from the hospital that Primula and Drogo were doing well; both were now stable and lucid again, and Bilbo sent along a message that he would promise to visit tomorrow.

Thorin had left to check on his dog and take him for a walk but other than that, Thorin had remained the entire day. Now, Bilbo was feeling a sort of rising panic at the prospect of him leaving, even if he was only next door.

Thorin paused in the doorway and turned back, amusement lighting his eyes and a fond tilt to his lips.

"Well... I don't actually have work for the rest of the week. How about I go and get a few things and I become a live-in nanny for a while?"

"You know I could kiss you right now," the relief in Bilbo's voice was palpable, so much so he barely thought of what he had said, and failed to notice the pleased flush on Thorin's cheeks before he left to collect his things.

The weeks following the accident passed surprisingly quickly. Bilbo's editor completely understanding of the emergency and offering to put his deadline back.

Thorin was a wonderful constant presence as well. As it turned out the man was a CEO of some company or another and a couple of his family and co-workers, (a pleasant man who reminded Bilbo of Santa Claus, and a tall, bald man who was ten times more intimidating than Thorin) had called by to let Thorin know that they would keep things under control whilst he took time off to help Bilbo.

Bilbo had not missed the wicked grin the bald one had sent Thorin, or the friendly wink the elderly man had tipped him.

"I swear you planned this," Bilbo accused, flushed but happy at Primula's bedside whilst his darling cousin nearly laughed herself sick.

Drogo and Primula were healing well, and according to the doctors might be discharged the following week.

"Plan a car accident? That's an audacious accusation, cous'," Drogo was grinning from across the room where he sat reading his book.

"Not that," Bilbo was horrified at the mere thought. "I mean me staying at your place where you knew I'd eventually bump into Thorin."

"Now, Bilbo, I was completely out of my mind on pain relief. Please don't tell me you've become as self-centred as some of our relatives to think I was actually considering your love life at that time," Bilbo felt ashamed by Primula's answer... or he would have had her eyes not been twinkling with mischief.

"I- well hm..." Bilbo trailed off unsure what else to say.

"So tell me, Bilbo," Primula cooed and Bilbo cringed in fear of her next question. "How long did it take you two to realise you were head over heels for each other?"

Drogo joined in with the laughter as Bilbo turned redder than a tomato and Thorin walked through the door at that moment cradling Frodo, offering an answer where Bilbo could not.

"Two weeks... I'm hoping we can go out on a proper date once your little beastie is returned to you, Primula."

Primula looked entirely too satisfied by this answer and Bilbo could only smile as Thorin sat down beside him, a warm and steady presence that Bilbo was quickly becoming very attached to.