InsaneJournal

Who: Smeagol narrative, with a guest appearance from Merrill
When: Backdated to Christmas Eve
What: Smeagol enjoys his present.
Warnings: PG.. Some creepiness, but not much else
Status: Complete



Smeagol had been having the most amazing week in his life! When he discovered that he had The One Ring, he'd immediately quit his job, sending a scathing email to the entire company in the process. It had been a thrill. He'd proceeded to spend most of the week invisible, doing things he'd never been able to do.

He'd snuck into a very exclusive country club and pretended to live like one of the rich and powerful. He'd stolen a box of cigars and several other shiny things, the value of which he wasn't quite sure. He couldn't order anything from the waiters while he was invisible, but he'd stolen plenty of things that other people had ordered. He'd eaten and drunk things that cost nearly as much as his paycheck! His old paycheck; stupid Baggins and his stupid money! "Smeagol doesn't need it anymore, does we, precious?"

He'd also gone to satisfy some more carnal desires. He'd snuck into strip clubs, and women's locker rooms. In a particularly bold move, he'd even snuck into stupid Bagginses home. Invisible, he padded quietly through the home, looking for Frodo's wife. Any time she'd visited the office, Smeagol became terribly distracted.

He found Merrill fascinating; an object more of envy than raw desire. One more thing that Baggins had that Smeagol didn't. She was in the library, reading. She looked so calm and peaceful, and Smeagol was drawn closer and closer. He reached out a hand to touch her hair..

"Would you like some tea, Merrill?" Carson would have preferred to call her Mrs. Baggins, but the lady of the house had been quite insistent.

Smeagol jumped back at the butler's loud voice. He stumbled back and tumbled over a chair, landing in a pile in the middle of the floor.

Carson frowned, turning to see the chair tip over. It was quite apparent that there was something in this room besides the two of them, and he did not believe in ghosts. Perhaps an animal of some kind. He lifted an eyebrow, glancing covertly at Merrill. He half-suspected her of bringing a pet of some sort inside, but she looked as baffled as he was. Whatever it was, it was fast, and he couldn't see where it had gone. It was likely still in the room, though. "Out!" Carson ordered, in a very firm tone that would frighten all manner of creatures. "Out, before I get the.. broom." He didn't want to frighten Merrill by talking about firearms.

Smeagol responded to that commanding tone in the same way that a dog might, and dashed for the door with his tail between his legs, so to speak. It took a few tries for him to find his way outside, but he managed to duck out. Afterwards, he chastised himself for not having the foresight to steal some of Frodo's things.