1921

It was over 48 hours since DS Christopher Foyle had been home or seen his wife and son, thanks to the investigation that had sent him back and forth across the South Coast. He'd been out of town last night and hadn't even been able to call Rosalind to say goodnight because it was too late when he finally got to his lodgings.

In short Christopher was tired as he slowly climbed the steps of #31 Steep Lane and what he desperately wanted was to kiss his wife, make his son giggle, sit in his armchair and have a cup of tea.

It was early afternoon, Inspector Bradshaw having told him to 'get off home" so he opened the door quietly, not wanting to wake Andrew if he were down for his nap. He wasn't. The crying that met Foyle's ears as soon as he came through the door was proof of that and he bit back a sigh.

Reminding himself that Andrew was only two and had no way of knowing that he'd had an exhausting two days Foyle closed the door quietly and hung up his hat and coat before going to see what the matter was.

He moved quietly up the stairs, following Andrew's crying and the sound of Rosalind pacing. They were in Andrew's room and Rosalind had her back to him when he stepped into the doorway but Andrew, who was crying fretfully into his mother's shoulder, saw him. "Dada"

"I know Andrew, I want Daddy too" Rosalind sighed her back still to the door, "he'll be home soon."

Her voice sounded oddly rough and Foyle frowned as he stepped into the room, "Rose?"

She turned, her shoulders immediately relaxing as she gave him a tired smile, "Christopher." She was pale with dark circles under her eyes, and the wisps of hair escaping her loose braid only added to how exhausted she looked.

Foyle's frown deepened as he crossed to her, "Rose, what's happened? What's wrong?"

"Dada!" Andrew demanded before Rosalind could answer, squirming in his mother's arms and reaching for his father.

Foyle took him, pressing a kiss to his forehead and frowning worriedly at the heat that seemed to be radiating off it. "Rose?"

Rosalind sighed, her shoulders slumping, "He's got an ear infection Christopher, he kept trying to hit his ear yesterday so I took him to Dr. White and he confirmed it. He gave me something to help with the fever and the pain and said it should pass in a few days."

Her voice was rough and she turned her head to cough into the crook of her elbow. "Sorry" she murmured after she'd managed to catch her breath.

"Rose..."

"He just won't settle, and I know he's uncomfortable but I don't know what else to do and…"

"Rosalind." She stopped, surprised by his use of her full name which he so rarely did outside of introductions. Foyle smiled gently at her although his eyes were dark with worry. "You've done amazingly love, anyone could see that but you're exhausted and ill. Why didn't you call me?"

"Because I knew that anything that kept you at work for two days must be very important."

Foyle shook his head firmly, his face a picture of consternation, "Nothing, nothing, is more important to me then you and Andrew. Rose I thought you knew…"

Rosalind smiled softly as she placed a finger to his lips, silencing him, "I do Christopher but what you do is important too and I knew you'd come home to us just as soon as you could. I'd kiss you but I'm worried I might get you sick too."

Foyle smiled and kissed her anyway, "Think it's a bit late for that love, if you and Andrew both have it I've already been exposed; I'd rather kiss my wife and take my chances."

Rosalind laughed softly but it became a cough and Foyle frowned deeply, chewing worriedly on his cheek as she turned her head away. Before he could speak though Andrew began to cry gustily again, forcing him to look away from his wife focus once more on their son.

He shifted Andrew so he could bring one hand up to cup the back of his head as he began to pace, "I know your ear hurts Andrew I'm sorry, shh…shhh son Daddy's got you…"

It took a bit but finally Andrew quieted, snuffling rather then crying into his father's neck. Foyle kissed the top of his head again and then glanced at his wife, "Why don't you go and lie down love? I'll bring you some tea."

"I'm…" Rosalind began

"Exhausted and ill." Foyle said firmly, "You've done a wonderful job taking care of Andrew Rose, just like you always do, but now it's time to let me take care of both of you. Why not take a bath if you don't want to sleep just yet? The steam will help your cough."

Rosalind's eyes softened and she leaned up to kiss his cheek, "I love you."

Foyle smiled, "I love you too my darling, in sickness and in health but lets get you and Andrew healthy again hmm?"

She laughed softly and pressed a kiss to Andrew's head, "I think I'm more tired than ill so you mustn't fret." Foyle opened his mouth and she kissed him chastely, "I'll go and start the bath."

"Good. Andrew and I will go and make tea, maybe find a biscuit?"

The last was directed at their son who was sucking tiredly on his thumb, sore ear pressed firmly against his father's shoulder. He looked up at the sound of his father's voice, "bicit?"

Foyle nodded as he kissed his forehead to judge his temperature. "That's right, a biscuit and some warm milk and then maybe something for your fever?"

He glanced questioningly at Rosalind who nodded, "He can have more at 3pm."

Foyle nodded, "Good, we'll go and see to all that while you get into the bath."