Disclaimer, The hobbits told about in this story do not belong to me, much as I wish I could say differently.

It had been five days since Sam's recovery, not enough time to regain his strength, but he insisted on coming back to work anyway. I told him he could, mostly because I miss his company while he worked, but I had to admit that Bag End was beginning to look a bit moth-eaten. I have tried to keep up on things before, like the time when Sam and his father both had bad colds and couldn't come, some years ago, or when Sam twisted his ankle falling on some loose gravel, last summer. It didn't work however, I am just not a gardener. In fact, when the Gaffer got well again, he gave me a tongue lashing for butchering the front hedges. Last summer, Sam thanked me kindly for trying to help him out, then begged me never to help again.

He came into the house for a glass of water and to rest a bit. He had rested more that he had worked, but I didn't say anything. He was still weak from being so sick, and I knew that he wouldn't be sitting down so often if he didn't need it. He was much thinner than he had been before he became ill, and a lot more pale, but he was still in excellent spirits so I sat down with him and we talked for some time, then I glanced out the window. "Sam, I think someone else want to tell you how glad she is that you're feeling better." He turned in his chair and looked out the window to see Rosie Cotton. I chuckled softly, "Go on, she's waiting for you."

He walked down to let her in, then, much to his credit, picked up his sheers and began clipping as he talked. The clipping grew less and less, and finally he set them down again and just talked to her. I laughed out right and turned back to the stove. Pippin and Merry walked in at that moment. "What's so funny?" Pip asked.

"Sam and Rosie. Look at them."

"What, aren't going to get mad at Sam for talking while he's supposed to be working?" Merry asked, teasingly.

"No, he deserves it, besides, at least he's talking to her, rather than tiptoeing around her as if she was going to bite him."

We watched as he gave her a small rosebud that he had cut off a bush earlier, and she took it with a big smile on her face. Then she started back down the walkway and he turned back to his work.

He came in about a half hour later, for more water and another "breather" as he called it. I was ready to send him home, for fear that he was over working himself, but something stopped me. He knew just how hard to push himself this first day back to work. He's wiser than some in that respect, including me. He knows that if he can't make it so long without a break, he needs to take one. But he doesn't take too many. I know how shaky you feel after that illness, having had it myself. Memories flooded back to me about when I was ill so often in the past and how he took care of me. I was glad that I could return the favor, at least this once. He stood up presently and told me that he was going back to work. I smiled back at him. "Alright, Sam. Come back in if you need anything, I'll be here."

He turned from the door, "I know Mr. Frodo, you'll always be here." He gave me a grin and walked out.

Yes, I would always be there for him, and he for me. An old saying came into my head, "One good turn deserves another." Give and take, that what kind of friendship we had, I always felt as if Sam had been giving more than I had, and I felt rather guilty, but I'm not sure if he thinks that way. He just does his part, and doesn't notice anything else. I think that's what makes Sam who he is and why everyone in the Shire would want to call him a friend. And I'm proud to call him my best friend.

A/N Finished. Well, what did you think? I would like to say thank you to all those who reviewed and say that any other feedback is appreciated.