NOTE: I do not write slash. I'm sorry if anything appears to be slash, but I can assure you that it is just the way I write. I praise Tolkien for his accomplishments and can only say that anyone who sees his work as dirty has a dirty mind to begin with.

Chapter 3

"Sam?"

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. Dropping the watering can with a heavy 'thud' (just barely missing his toes!), the frightened Sam turned around quickly, putting his hands up in a sort of defensive move. The culprit of Sam's shock took a step backward, staring wide-eyed at him.

That was the first thing Sam saw; those large blue eyes. Although now they seemed different. The happiness that had once occupied them was gone, replaced with deep sorrow. They were red and puffy, as if a waterfall of tears had flowed out of them.

"Frodo!" Sam exclaimed then bit his tongue. His father's words echoed in his head; "It ain't right to be actin' as equals with them."

Frodo smiled. 'Frodo'; just Frodo. He had never heard Sam call him that before, but he liked it, even if it was out of shock. Sam was always so formal with him, even though Frodo thought that they were good friends. He wished Sam would agree think of him as a friend, not an employer.

"Mr. Frodo." He quickly corrected. "I...I'm sorry sir. I mean't no disrespect, I was just..." He bent over to pick up the watering can as evidence.

"Sam, please," Frodo said placing his hand on Sam's shoulder, "let me help."

"No! No it's ok Mr. Frodo, sir. I got it." Sam hurriedly picked up the heavy watering can. "I was just off to water the plants. There ain't been rain for some time and they are beginnin' to dry out, if you follow me, sir."

There he goes again with the formalities.

"Sam, let me help you. You've been working really hard lately and . . ." Frodo took another look at the young hobbit before him. He seemed tense. Something was wrong. "Sam? Is everything ok?"

"What? Oh, yes sir, fine." Sam answered quickly, hauling the watering can to where the Lilly of the Valleys were planted. He began to give every plant a generous dose of the clear, cool liquid that they so desperately needed. Frodo simply stood by and watched as Sam sped through his task at hand. Occasionally, Sam would glance over his shoulder, to see if Frodo was till there then would quickly return to his watering.

This was very unusual for Sam. Frodo had watched him work in the garden many, many times before and he had always noticed the special care and attention that he gave each plant. Watching him now, rushing around from flower bed to flower bed, dumping water into the dry soil; it bothered Frodo. What was wrong with him and why would he not just say it?

When Sam had finished and replaced that watering can in the shed, he began to think of anything else he could do to keep busy working. But looking around the garden, he saw that he had accomplished every thing already. The flower bed were weeded and watered, the rose bush was trimmed and . . . and . . .

Frodo was still standing by the water pump. Why was he still there? Sam was beginning to worry that Frodo was angry at him. Otherwise, why would he be just standing there, staring at him? Just then, Frodo began walking towards him, a strange look in his eyes.

'Oh, no. Here is comes,' Sam thought, bracing himself for the worse.

"Sam, I need to talk to you." Frodo said, approaching the nervous gardener.

"T...talk to me, sir?" Sam repeated in almost incoherently.

"Yes. Come on, let's sit down." Frodo suggested as he urged Sam over to one of the garden benches. Sam hesitantly followed his Master, yet remained standing when Frodo sat down.

"Come now Sam, sit." Frodo said, moving over to make room for Sam on the bench.

"No, no thank you, sir. I think I'll just stand." Sam replied, taking a firm sort of stance and lowering his gaze to the fresh, green grass under his feet.

"Sam, look at me." Frodo said. Sam barely lifted his eyes. The second they met Frodo's, he lowered them again. 'Why would he not just get it over with?' Sam thought.

"Sir, I...I..." Sam wasn't sure exactly what he was going to say, but he felt he had to say something. "I don't know what I did, but...but what ever it was, I can..." There was an awkward pause that Frodo broke after a moment.

"My dear Sam, you think you're in trouble?" Frodo asked surprised at what was being said. He couldn't help but laugh a little bit, although it seemed dry and with out emotion. "No, no, no. I simply wanted to ask you if you would mind to accompanying me this afternoon. Bilbo has gone off to Brandy Hall for a week and it's a bit lonely here." This he added with a more serious tone.

Sam blinked. That was it? Sam quickly looked into Frodo's eyes. They were sad again. A dark loneliness covered the usual joy in Frodo's eyes that Sam would see when they were together. What was wrong with him?

"Mr. Frodo? Is something wrong, sir?" Taking a cautious step forward, Sam placed his brown, worked hand on Frodo's delicately framed shoulder. Frodo had always been rather thin for a hobbit and Sam was afraid if he put too much pressure on him, Frodo would break under the weight of his hand!

Frodo suddenly put his hands up to his face, shielding the tears flowing from his already red eyes. Under Sam's hand, Frodo's shoulder shook with every sob that came almost silently from the sad hobbit. Sam quickly pulled his hand away and stared. Had he said something?

"Mr. Frodo? What is it? What's wrong?" Sam asked quickly regaining his senses. Instead of pulling away, he should be comforting his poor master. Taking a seat on the bench next to Frodo, Sam wrapped his arm around his shoulders, holding him tightly. "Don't worry, Mr. Frodo, your Sam's here." Sam whispered into Frodo's dark curls.

After an unknown about of time, Frodo's shoulders finally stopped shaking and he slowly lifted his head. Once again, his eyes were red and swollen; his rather pale cheeks were streaked with salted tears. Sam looked at him again. The sadness was slowly easing itself out of his eyes as the happiness crept back in. Sam couldn't help but let a tiny smile curl his lips. It was then, when Frodo finally spoke again.

"I...I'm sorry, Sam." He said in a coarse, worn out voice. "I've been thinking a lot about my...my parents." His voice trailed to nothing more then a whisper. "You know, it's been 13 years but I still miss them so much."

Now Sam understood perfectly. He, himself had lost his own mother only 5 years ago and he still could feel the pain. But he could only imagine how poor Frodo was feeling, having lost BOTH his parents at the same time and at such a young age too!

"It's alright, Mr. Frodo." Sam cooed.

Frodo took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. A sense of embarrassment suddenly came rushing over him. Here he was, half way through his tween years and he still breaks down crying like a child. And in front of Sam, who was still a child himself! Frodo couldn't help but feel ashamed of himself.

"I'm being ridiculous. I'm sorry Sam. I shouldn't be troubling you with my nonsense. You must have better things to do then to listen to me." With this, Frodo heaved himself up from the bench and out of a surprised Sam's grasp. Running a small handkerchief across his eyes, Frodo shook his head to clear his thoughts. He looked around and saw Sam still sitting on the bench, smiling warmly.

"No, sir. You are not being ridiculous. You have every right to...to..." Sam didn't really know how to put it without upsetting Frodo again. "To remember the good times you had with them. That's what I do when I miss my ma. I just think of all the great times we had together." Sam's eyes began to tear up a bit at the though of his mother.

"Thank you, Sam. I know you will always be there for me when I truly need you." Frodo said gratefully. He then turned around and headed back indoors. Before he entered Bag End, another shadow covered him. Turning around, he saw Sam standing behind him; his hands behind his back and his head down.

"Um...Mr. Frodo, sir? If...if you still want me to...I mean, if you would like, I could..."

"Would you like to come in, Sam?" Frodo interrupted, knowing Sam would never stop unless Frodo said something.

"Only if it is alright with you, sir." Sam replied.

"Only on one condition." Frodo said.

"Condition?" Sam repeated, beginning to get nervous.

"Yes, that you call me Frodo, and nothing else."

"I'll try Mist...Frodo." Sam said, though a bit shakily.

"Well then, come on in." Frodo said as he opened the back door to Bag End and entered, followed closely by Sam, who closed the door behind him.

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