There was something like a sighing sound from the vicinity of the canvas and Frodo carefully shifted his gaze in that direction to see if his efforts were having any impact on their intended target. From the erratic speed of Merry's breathing, it was apparent they were affecting Merry, but that couldn't be helped and wouldn't do any lasting harm -- at least nothing that couldn't easily be dealt with later. He found his own breathing a bit ragged at that thought.

Todo clearly was not paying very much attention either to his subject or to the canvas. His mouth was open slightly -- obviously he was having a tad bit of trouble with respiration as well -- as he gazed in Frodo's direction. Frodo couldn't really tell much else, without blatantly looking, but it was enough to know that, so far, his ploy was working.

Slowly pulling his finger out of his mouth, Frodo listened in satisfaction to another sound from Todo's direction and a sharp intake of breath from Merry. Carefully licking his finger again, Frodo reached down to pick up his remaining roll, bringing it to his mouth as slowly as he could and taking a dainty bite. He closed his eyes, tossed his head back just a bit, and sighed -- loudly -- at the taste. It would have been so much better hot, but it still tasted luscious enough to evoke that reaction -- especially the butter. There was just something about Brandy Hall butter.

He ate the entire thing, slowly and with relish, licked each of his fingers carefully, then took another slow drink of the wine. He would need to snog Izzy thoroughly for the wine. It was absolutely delicious.

When Frodo opened his eyes at last, Merry's gaze on him had darkened, the indigo of those gorgeous eyes disappearing into black and a flush of colour on his cheeks. Merry was just breathtaking with his golden colouring in that light burgundy jacket -- and those very tight dark burgundy velvet breeches -- very tight and revealing velvet breeches. The portrait that resulted from all this was undoubtedly going to be quite distracting hanging in the main hall. Frodo studied Merry's breeches just a little longer then looked up to find that Merry's mouth had opened just slightly. He smiled at Merry and winked slowly, then turned his head to look in Todo's direction, a bit more obviously this time.

Todo hadn't noticed Merry's expression slip at all, but was staring at Frodo, his sallow cheeks pink, his eyes wide.

"Is something amiss, Mister Bunce?" Frodo cocked his head sideways and put on what he hoped was an innocent, quizzical look.

"Uh...amiss? No, no, not at all." Todo's voice was a big rough. "Studying the light, that's all."

"Indeed. Well, that gives me a chance to get a bit of seconds then." Frodo got up quickly and went around Merry to the little table, sidling around it carefully until his back was to the artist, then leaning over to slowly select and butter another roll and carefully pick a very large pickle for his plate -- all the while with his rear end in the air. After sufficient time, he straightened and returned to his chair, risking a quick glance at Todo.

The red head disappeared quickly behind the canvas and something clattered.

Smiling to himself, Frodo sat down, balancing the plate on his knees and indulging in the roll, which was actually a bit warm and had melted the butter just a bit. He bit into it ecstatically and devoured it quickly this time, not wanting to overdo the effect. But he couldn't resist a quick look at Merry as he started to lick his fingers. The desperate look on Merry's face made him quickly change his mind and wipe them on the napkin.

Merry let out a long breath and seemed to relax.

"I am sorry, Merry," Frodo whispered. "Perhaps you should close your eyes now."

Frodo picked up the pickle and Merry's eyes widened as he gazed at the pickle, then back at Frodo's face.

At Merry's wild expression, Frodo leaned forward. "Close them, love. Trust me, he won't notice."

Merry's eyes widened even further. Frodo smiled indulgently and leaned back, bringing the pickle up to his mouth. Merry's eyes snapped shut just as Frodo wrapped his lips around the end of the pickle.

There was a definite choking noise from behind the canvas. Frodo pulled the pickle free and look around with concern.

"Are you quite all right there, Mister Bunce?"

A face that nearly matched the hair in hue peeked around the side of the canvas. "Indeed." Todo cleared his throat and coughed. "Fine. Fine."

There was an equally strange noise from Merry -- something like a cross between a snort and a whimper, and when Frodo looked back, Merry's eyes were open again.

"Doesn't help," Merry whispered between clenched teeth.

"It's all right, love. I just don't want to have you popping out of the chair and coming to help me eat this pickle." Frodo said quickly, in a normal tone. "Well, not yet anyway. And not precisely this pickle."

Merry's eyebrows rose. "Not helping!" he hissed loudly.

"Just try to stay put, " Frodo whispered. "I will do my best to only torment the toff, and I apologize in advance for tormenting you as well, but you are going to have to endure it for just a bit longer so I can get us out of here quickly with a painting for your grandda."

Merry appeared to think about it for a while, oddly spending a good deal of the time gazing at Frodo's mouth. Then he nodded imperceptibly.

Frodo couldn't fret about how this would impact Merry. Well, he could fret about it, but that would come later. Undoubtedly he would fret a great deal when Merry had him pinned to some heavy piece of furniture doing disgusting things to him with a pickle.

Smiling at the thought, Frodo closed his eyes as he slid the pickle back into his mouth. The pickle was almost too big for him to manage that way and the image that brought to mind nearly made Frodo groan himself. There was a slight noise of distress from Merry, but Frodo steeled himself to that and listened for something from the other side of the room. Everything was very quiet on the other side of the canvas.

Shifting slightly and slipping down in his chair to get his breeches to loosen a bit in strategic places, Frodo slowly indulged in Izzy's very large spicy pickle making contented noises as he slid it in, took a dainty bite, then slid it further in, and took another bite. He heard a strangled sound from Todo's direction as the process went on for a while -- it was a rather large pickle. When he was nearly the end of it, he opened his eyes to check on his audience.

Although his eyes were shut once more, Merry's breathing was ragged enough to tell Frodo that his cousin's imagination was likely compensating for what he couldn't see. The most important thing was that, with just a quick casual glance, he could tell that Todo was gazing at him rather lasciviously and probably had been the entire time.

Of course, very large pickles are a quite messy business, and Frodo was forced to lick his fingers once more, and the palms of his hands -- which had gotten rather sticky. The whole process was quite noisy and Frodo tried not to smile as a muscle in Merry's cheek twitched. Undoubtedly his cousin was grinding his teeth.

Once his hands were somewhat less sticky, Frodo slid further down in the chair and stretched out his legs languidly, resting his elbow on his stomach and cupping his chin to stare back at Todo questioningly. Todo suddenly appeared to realize that he had a brush in his hand and turned to look at the canvas blankly. Frodo almost laughed, the painter's expression was so comical.

He looked back to find that Merry had opened his eyes once more.

"You are not looking at your spot," came Todo's oddly strained voice.

Merry grimaced and lifted his chin.

Frodo tried not to frown, chewing on his thumbnail thoughtfully as he studied Merry's pose. He shifted his hips to get comfortable, spreading his legs just slightly. Then he ran the side of his thumb across his bottom lip -- slowly -- back and forth, back and forth. Then he shifted his hips once more and looked at his thumbnail critically.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merry literally rolling his eyes, but the important thing was that Todo had gone back to staring.

There was a tap on the door and Todo yelped in surprise as everyone jumped. Todo retreated back behind the canvas and Frodo cursed the interruption, jumping to his feet and going to open the door to find Nad standing there with a small covered platter.

"The mistress realized she was remiss in sending up afters for you and the young Master, Mister Frodo. She sends this with her compliments. Just a little something she put together that the young Master enjoys a great deal."

"Why, thank you Nad. And thank your mistress for us. Lunch was delicious, as always. The pork was unbelievable."

Nad grinned widely. "She will be glad to hear it, young sir. We'll be up to clean up and bring tea a bit later. Everything is well?"

Frodo wondered if Izzy was worried for them or for Todo. He smiled. "Everything is quite fine, Nad. Thank you."

Nad made a quick bow and headed away as Frodo turned with the platter, shutting the door. He returned to his chair and realized that both Merry and Todo were watching him avidly. He held up the platter. "Afters. Something special for the young Master, apparently."

He uncovered the platter and Merry's eyes went wide. Frodo knew that it was Merry's favourite winter treat. Precious apples, only slightly grainy from careful storage, sliced thickly and served with a special caramel sauce. He met Merry's gaze and smiled -- probably a bit too enthusiastically because Merry suddenly looked worried.

"If he remains still from the neck down, you still have plenty to work with, correct Mister Bunce?"

"Uh, well, yes. I suppose. But he mustn't move anything else below the neck, of course."

"Well, except certain parts that move of their own accord," Frodo whispered, winking at Merry. "You can talk you know."

Frodo pulled the chair closer so that he could easily reach Merry without getting in the way of Todo's perspective.

"You are mad aren't you? You are mad, and you are trying to drive me mad as well." Merry whispered fiercely.

Frodo took a slice of apple and dipped it in the sauce, leaning forward to carefully place it in Merry's mouth.

"Well, it is a family trait. Mad Baggins and all." Frodo picked a slice and dipped it for himself, but instead of biting in or popping it into his mouth, he licked the caramel sauce off slowly, then popped it in to finish.

Merry was watching Frodo's tongue -- fascinated. "What are you up to?"

"I am up for almost anything, love. You know that." Frodo said in a normal tone, then took a slice of apple and dipped it in the sauce, leaning forward to carefully place it in Merry's mouth.

Merry sucked the apple slice in slowly and his eyes shut in delight. "Mmmm hmmm."

Dipping another slice, Frodo leaned forward and touched it to Merry's lips. As Merry's mouth opened, Frodo slid the slice across his lower lip before letting go.

"I am going to--" Merry growled.

"What?" Frodo leaned forward. "Tie me up and paint caramel sauce on me?" he said loudly.

Merry's eyes could not get any wider. Then they suddenly narrowed. Frodo could tell that very evil and delicious thoughts were speeding through his cousin's mind.

"Not before I have a nice long soak. I am filthy from the road." Frodo responded to his own question matter-of-factly, and enthusiastically enough for the artist to overhear. "I couldn't let you lick caramel sauce off me until I wash off this dust."

Something very large fell behind the canvas.

***

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