Disclaimer: I don't own Sam, or Rose, or any others you may see in this fiction… *Sniffs* I wish I did, though.

Rating: R for adult-content

Short and sweet, which is what this is. My first short-fic, I hope you like! Ja!

~Hoshiko

Sam and Rose

Sam looked out from behind his mother's legs and at the girl who was walking down the street with her mother. Sam was young, only ten, and sun-bleached, curly hair covered his head. The girl, however, had long, curly, brown hair, and was near Sam's age. She was skipping along, happily talking to her parent about the green grass. When his mother saw her mother she called out, and waved.

            'Mrs. Cotton!' she said, and the girl's mother turned, smiling.

            'Hello, Bell!' Mrs. Cotton put her hands on her knees, and bent over near Sam's height. 'And is this little Samwise? My, he's grown, hasn't he?' she asked, and Sam turned a scarlet, hiding behind his mother again. The little girl looked curiously behind Bell Gamgee, and he made his way around the other side, hiding from her.

            'Yes, he has, along with May and Marigold, and Daisy, and Halfred… and Hamson.' She said, shaking her head. 'He's the last of the load, I gather.' Mrs. Cotton laughed, and they started gossiping among other conversations. After a while there was no more news, and they parted their ways, Mrs. Gamgee going back to her hobbit hole.

            While they were walking along the path, Samwise looked up at his mother, and pulled on her dress.

            'Mommy…' he said, and she looked down at him, smiling. 'Who was that girl Mrs. Cotton was with?'

            'Her name was Rose, dear. Why?' she asked, and he again turned a scarlet.

            'I dunno… she was pretty, though.'

Samwise took the mug of beer Frodo had just given him, and looked at the full-grown hobbit-lass behind the counter. She smiled back at him, and shifted her weight from foot to foot. He loved it when she did that; she looked so beautiful. He continued to look at her, while the other hobbits talked about strange folk in the Shire, and such things. The gaffer was one of them, and when he saw what Sam was looking at he laughed.

                'And of coarse, Sam's concerned with none of this. Has his mind on other things, I wager.' He said, and Sam shook his head, meeting his father's gaze. 'Eh, my boy?'

            'Oh, no, I'm concerned…' he said, but felt some of the blood rush to his face. The table laughed, but moved on, and before he knew it Frodo had gotten up, and Rose had moved to the door. Sam got up to follow his master, and walk him home. At the door Rosie smiled at him, and he smiled sheepishly back. He was feeling quite content with himself, as he had gathered up the courage to say 'Good night,' but this feeling was quite shot down when another hobbit got down on his knee's, and cooed to her. She said nothing, though glancing back up at Sam, and smiling at the hobbit. Sam started to feel flustered and muttered.

            'Ay, mind who you're sweet-talking…' he said, and Frodo patted him on the back.

            'Don't worry Sam, Rosie knows an idiot when she sees one.' Sam suddenly felt very self-concious and couldn't help but worry.

            'She does?' he asked, and caught up to Frodo.

Sam led Rosie to an empty bedroom in Bag End. It was the night of their wedding; they were going to make the most out of it. He closed the door while she turned slowly to him, and drew him into a deep kiss. She put her arms around his neck, and very slowly he rapped his around her waist. They made their way over to the bed, and Sam could feel her untucking his shirt. He started undoing the strings on the back of her dress, and before he knew it she had his shirt off.

She felt his torso, and sighed. He was so strong for a hobbit. She then felt her corset fall to the floor, and as they started kissing each other again, she un-did the skirt that was still on her. He made the kiss deeper, and she fell back onto the bed, him over her.

'I love you, Sam.' She said, and he smiled.

'I love you, too, Rose.' He said, and started to kiss the nape of her neck. While he did this, she unbuttoned his pants, tugged them down, and as he kicked them off she ran her fingers through his hair. She ran her hands down his back, as they kissed deeply and passionately. She parted her lips to let his tongue in, as it had been begging entrance, and moaned, letting him press his body to hers. This is what was right about the world, she thought, and they spent the rest of the night like this.

When morning's light started to show through the shudders, Sam laid there, stroking Rosie's hair.

'I've been waiting my whole life for this, Rose.' He said, and she snuggled up into him.

Sam lay there, crying. Death of Mistress Rose, wife of Master Samwise, on Mid-year's Day. He found himself longing for her to touch, to feel her breathing next to him. He reached his hands out, and tried to hug her, but his hands reached mid-air. He instead grabbed the second pillow next to himself, and hugged it to his body, refusing to let go. He drew in a deep breath, and could feel his body shudder. The pillow smelled like her.

It smelled like her…