"This," Sauron hissed venomously, "is all your fault."

"How is it my fault?!" Gandalf protested. "It's your Ring."

"Yes, it is," Sauron answered, sounding almost calm: something belayed by the dangerous glint in his eyes. "But I don't have it at the moment, do I? No, it's held by that!"

"Slaveses will bring us fish now, precious, fresh fish!" The Gollum spoke grandly. Sauron looked like he wanted nothing more than to torture something to death as the two Maiar went to fetch the fresh fish the Ringwraiths brought in from the sea. It was their turn, the Elves and Hobbits had handled the last two requests.

"And he's using my Wraiths to get him fish!" the fallen Maia continued to rant. "Of all the useless things to use them for!"

Gandalf thought half of his little brother's problem was the absolute lack of vision that Gollum was subject to. If his Ring had been taken by someone who at least had plans to subjugate all of Middle-earth, Sauron would still hate them, but would hold a small amount of respect for them.

"It's not like I don't like fish," Sauron continued. "I lived in Númenor: their food was delicious, and mostly came from the sea. But he doesn't even cook it, just eats it raw!"

"The Hobbits are just as disgusted by that as you," Gandalf commented absently, feeling the dark, choking feeling that accompanied the Wraiths.

"Mmm, yes, your little Hobbit friends who blame you for this mess too," Sauron replied caustically. "Tell me, brother, why did you refuse to let anyone kill that miserable creature?!"

Gandalf sighed. He would never admit that he had asked himself that question, many, many times.

"I felt that he had some part to play in all this, before the end," he replied, giving the same answer he always did. Sauron shot him a look that made it clear he was fully aware of the irony in that statement.

"Well, Olórin, you were right," he said sarcastically, as they walked back to the throne room of Most Precious Gollum, now carrying baskets of fresh, dead fish.

They entered the presence of Gollum the Great, and Sauron smoothed his face into that emotionless mask he had down perfectly. Gandalf tried to do the same, knowing he wasn't nearly as good. He simply hadn't had the same level of practice as his little brother.

"Here you are, Lord Sméagol," Sauron said with all the smoothness of a practiced councilor. "Your fish, fresh from the sea."

"Nice slaveses, yes precious. Most Precious Gollum rewards good slaveses. Gives them a fish, yes, precious!" A slight widening of his eyes was the only sign Sauron gave of his sudden panic. Gandalf couldn't say the same.

"My lord, you are truly too kind to your humble servants. We do not deserve such a magnanimous gift. Something simpler would be more fitting for such unprofitable beings we are." Sauron said, smoothly, but with an edge of desperation, trying to use his silver tongue to get out of this situation. Gollum would make them eat the fish raw.

"No, no, good slaveses. Eat fish." Gingerly, Sauron began to poke through the fish baskets, looking for a small one. Gandalf did the same. Mournfully, the Wizard stared at the dead fish in his hands, catching the furious glare his brother sent his way.

Even if he survived the fish, his brother was going to kill him. Silently sighing, Olórin began to formulate his excuses to the Valar for…this.

This is all The . of R's fault. Really. We were talking about who could claim the Ring, and she (jokingly) said Gollum should. I then said that was perfect crack!fic material (which is really the only responsibility I can claim for this...except for the fact I *wrote* it...) To which she replied I should write it. Hence...this.