Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything from this story.

I haven't written anything creative for ages, so I felt I should try to write something. If the style seems a bit jilted, that's why.

Sam Gamgee

"I tell you, that Frodo's up to something."

"Do you know what it is?"

"No, but I tell you, I'm going to find out."

That is how Milo Burrows' obsession began. He didn't like to call it an obsession himself, but his wife, Peony Burrows, would taunt him about it. Ever since the rumours about Frodo Baggins selling Bag End had begun, Milo had been determined to find out what he was doing. After all, when he had been leaving Bag End with the frankly insulting gift of a pen and ink bottle from Bilbo Baggins, he had asked Frodo himself, "Ever think of selling this place? With Bilbo gone you could make a tidy profit." The answer had been as absolute as you like: "I could never think of doing that, it just wouldn't feel right."

So when the news came that Frodo was, in fact, selling up (to Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, no less) and moving to Crickhollow for some "peace and quiet", Milo was understandably suspicious. So he decided to find out what was going on.

Milo was not naturally inquisitive or adventurous – what hobbit was? But he decided that if he did happen to find out what Frodo was planning, he would at least be the centre of attention in the Green Dragon for a night, and could be sure of someone buying him drinks to keep him talking. So Milo set off for Number Three, Bagshot Row that afternoon to have a chat with Gaffer Gamgee. However, chatting, for the Gaffer, was starting to prove rather difficult, owing to his increasing deafness. After a shouting match, Milo gathered that Frodo was going with the Gaffer's own son, Samwise Gamgee. Sam was going with him to "help with the gardening". Milo knew that Sam frequented the Green Dragon and, given enough beer, might be persuaded to tell him why Frodo was acting so strangely.

With this plan in mind, Milo strolled to the Green Dragon wondering how much money this information was going to cost him. The Green Dragon looked very inviting in the fading light, so Milo hurried in and gladly felt the rush of warm air as he stepped through the door. As suspected, Sam was sitting alone in the corner. Milo sauntered up to him and sat down opposite him. It was a busy night, and the tavern was stretched for space, so this wasn't remarkable in itself.

Milo cleared his throat, "You're Sam Gamgee, aren't you?" Sam made an affirmative grunt. "I've been wanting to speak to you." Sam made an ambiguous sound. "It's about Frodo Baggins."

Sam saw that he wasn't going to be able to deter Milo by being unfriendly, so he looked up wearily, "yes?"

"He's just been acting oddly." Sam was silent. "People have been saying he's as mad as Bilbo."

"No madder," retorted Sam, and Milo got the impression that he meant it, "Let me buy you a drink."

Forty-five minutes later Sam was gushing Frodo's virtues to the whole pub, and Milo was no closer to discovering his intentions. He gave this course of action up for lost, and made for the exit. He was walking home along the lane, lamenting at how quickly his meagre trail had gone cold, when he heard hushed voices from behind a hedge:

"But if he finds out we know, he'll just sneak off alone."

"How will we convince him to let us come?"

"For now, we stick to the plan; you take him to Crickhollow and make sure he doesn't sneak away. For now, let's talk to Sam, where would he be?"

"Where d'you th–"

Milo had been slowly creeping towards the hedge, listening intently to the two voices, and had stepped on a twig. Swearing under his breath, he stood stock still, ears pricked.

"C'mon." And he heard the pair of hobbits scurrying away.

Milo trotted down the road, feeling much more satisfied. He had his lead; one of those voices, at least, he had recognised.