Breakfast at Bag End was a wealth of delicious smells. Fresh baked bread, and scones. Strawberry and blackberry jams smelling sweetly. Ripe apples piled high in a small basket on the table. The smoky smell of the wood fire, and the heady aroma of strong tea that brewed in the pot. The days had grown cold, now, being the middle of November. The fires were always built high now, to keep the chill from the air.

Sam sat at the kitchen table, a light quilt wrapped around his broad shoulders. He looked around the room, and felt himself cringe. There were things everywhere out of place. The dishes from last night piled by the sink, even the breakfast food laid out neatly on the table seemed to get under his skin.

For a few days now, he had been feeling very urgent about keeping the smial tidy. He couldn't stand to step into Frodo's study anymore. The paper's all over the desk and floor, maps laid out on every surface, books left open everywhere, half burnt candles dripping wax on the shelves, was just too much for him to handle.

Lately, Sam found himself looking around Bag End and seeing all the danger and trouble a small hobbit child might find to get into. Just yesterday, he had spent hours scouring the kitchen floor and ignoring the screaming pain in his back. Frodo had come back from running some errands to find Sam crouched on the floor scrubbing, his face red from the exertion. Quite the argument had arisen from that attempt.

In the past few days, Sam had repotted all the plants brought indoors for the winter. Scrubbed the floors, tidied all the books in the living room to the point that Frodo could no longer find anything he was looking for. Changed the bed sheets twice a day. Sam had baked enough bread and muffins to feed an army twice the size of Gondor. Frodo was almost starting to wish the child would hurry up and come, as Sam was beginning to drive him crazy by following behind him, and picking up anything he left out of place behind him.

After the meal, Sam decided to return to their room to get dressed. He pulled on an overlarge shirt, which he'd had made only recently as none of his old clothes would fit anymore. As he buttoned the front, he looked in the mirror. The crisp white cotton shirt fit well over his shoulders and chest, but looked odd as it swelled out to cover his large belly.

He turned sideways to the mirror, gazing at his reflection. Sliding his hands down over the tender stretched skin of his expanding belly, Sam held the loose fabric of his shirt under his belly and looked at himself. Over the past few weeks, the baby had seemed to grow in leaps and bounds. There was no way of hiding his condition anymore, which kept Sam mostly housebound now. He didn't like the way people stared at him when he went down to town. Sam watched as the baby kicked, producing a little movement under his shirt.

"Hush now, little one. Don't go causing a stampede again! I'd kinda like to breathe today, if it's not too much trouble." He chuckled.

Pulling up his pants, and tucking in his shirt, Sam found himself missing being able to wear pants with buttons. Weeks ago, he had to put all his buttoned pants aside in favor of drawstrings. Even still, there was no hope of pulling his pants up to his waist; instead they hung around his hips, under his protruding belly.

Sam hadn't heard Frodo creep into the room. He now stood leaning against the doorway, watching his lover regarding himself. A smile spreading on his face, as he watched Sam smile a lovingly and broad as their child kicked within him. He loved to watch Sam like this. Before Sam realized he was there. Frodo let out a soft sigh, which Sam heard and turned around quickly.

"Frodo!" he exclaimed a little surprised to be caught the way he had been.

"You're beautiful, Sam, did you know that?" Frodo asked quietly.

Sam blushed deeply. "You shouldn't look at me in such a way, love. Ain't proper, if you follow me."

Frodo raised an eyebrow. "And in which way would that be, Sam-dear?" Sam bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill forth.

"Like ... like that!"

"I hadn't realized I was looking at the person I've chosen to spend the rest of my life with, in an improper manor."

"There it is again!" Sam whimpered.

"What?!?"

"That look!"

"What look?"

"THAT look!" Sam couldn't fight the tears anymore, and he stood shaking with sobs and looking at the floor.

"Sam-dear, are you suggesting that I'm not to look at you at all? I have not been making any look at you all this time. I could avert my eyes if you so wished, or return to reading in my study ...?"

"NO! Please don't leave me here alone, Frodo!" Sam pleaded. "I just ... I just ... I'm afraid ... that y-you don't want me no more!" The last word slurred a little as Sam covered his face and began to sob with deep wracking breaths.

"Oh Sam!" Frodo crossed the room to Sam's side in what seemed like two steps. He took Sam's trembling shoulders and guided him to the bed, to sit down. Frodo knelt down and took Sam's hand firmly in his own.

"Sam-dear, whatever could make you think I wouldn't want you anymore?"

"I'm hideous, Frodo! I'm so fat I look as like a bloated oliphaunt, and I only get bigger as the days pass! Soon I wont fit out the door!" Sam sobbed pathetically.

Repressing his laughter, Frodo laid his hands on Sam's rounded belly and began tracing soft circles with his fingertips.

"Hush now, Sam-dear. I meant it when I said you were beautiful! As for being fat. My dear, you've always been of perfect hobbit-size." Frodo smiled up at Sam. "Our baby just must be more Gamgee than Baggins. He or she is making each day could for two!"

Sam chuckled a little and looked down at his belly with a sigh.

"You really still find me attractive, Frodo?" Sam bit his lip and raised his hazel eyes to meet the blue ones gazing back at him.

"Of course I do, Samwise Gamgee. I love you!" Frodo's smile widened.

"Show me?"