This begins after The Russian House but before The Hide. Sam is working for Adam at the guest house and while they are growing closer, things haven't really progressed romantically for Sam. Foyle is looking forward to the end of his police career but not quite out that door yet. And yeah, I drive them a bit off the road that the show writers had them on. And as a warning, there is a lot of darkness before there is light.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. -Edgar Allan Poe

Christopher Foyle was settled in his chair, a half finished glass of Scotch on the table beside him and a book in his lap, although his mind was elsewhere. Summer was turning to Autumn and the air becoming chilled in the evenings. The war, even though it was over, continued to play havoc with everything and create shortages in all things, except crime it seemed. The one bright spot for him was that the war had also provided him with an unusual driver, Samantha Stewart, Sam.

Sam was a breath of fresh air. She'd appeared in his office, all brightness and vitality, thoroughly knocking him back a bit with her enthusiasm; and then irritating him with her lack of sensitively about the war. He'd initially thought she wouldn't last long, but she'd proved her mettle that very first day and astounded him in an entirely different way. And then, with his son Andrew away, flying missions to God only knew where, Sam helped him keep his sanity. Without her, all he would see was the darkness. Yes, Sam brought light into his life in a most pleasing manner. And it was her that occupied his mind that evening.

She managed to get herself into the most awkward situations and that was putting it mildly, he mused. Today had been one of those situations with her literally stumbling into the middle of a pack of black marketers and nearly getting herself killed in the process, even though she was no longer working with him. Thankfully, he and Paul Milner had extricated her without too much difficulty and the constables had rounded up most of the culprits. But it was only once that he had returned to his office that his breathing had settled into something akin to normal. The thought that he could have lost Sam that day was not a new one; but it was one that was growing more difficult to bear. He needed to find a way to manage that… or her better. The distance that had been created iwth her in a new position was doing nothing to manage his feelings.

With a sigh, he finished his drink and went around the room, shutting things down for the night. Just as he reached to turn out the last lamp, there was a pounding at his front door. Irritated at the disturbance and also a bit cautious, Foyle opened the door. His mouth fell open at the sight before him and then his arms extended to catch her as Sam Stewart fell through his door.

Holding her close, he managed to close the door behind him. Then carefully, he led her into the front room. He was too shocked to speak so he simply settled her in Andrew's chair while he lit the lamp. Then kneeling in front of her, he took a deep breath. "What's happened?" was all he could manage to say.

Her face bruised and bloodied and her stare vacant up until then, his words unleashed the floodgates. "I'm sorry sir but I didn't know where else to go. I … I was walking home from the pub and these men… two of them… they came out of an alley and the next thing I knew they were hitting me and…" she dissolved into sobs, great body wracking sobs that frightened Foyle.

"Stay right here," he instructed. Quickly he went to the kitchen ad got a glass of water. Walking back through to Sam, he paused at the table that held his scant liquor supply and added a bit of Scotch to the glass. Then kneeling in front of her again, he offered her the drink.

Sam took a gulp and handed it back to him. "I'm sorry sir," she said, the tears still rolling down her face. "I shouldn't have come here…" She looked around frantically.

"Sam, it's alright… that you came here. Please, tell me what's happened. You've obviously been attacked. Your face… is that… are you hurt anywhere else? Did they…" No, please God, no… not Sam… "Sam?"

"They hit me, over and over," she cried. "And then they… oh sir… they… " she collapsed into him, nearly knocking him to the floor. He held her a moment until the fresh sobs abated and then gently eased her back into the chair.

"I'm calling the doctor, Sam. You need looking after. And we need to report this. Those men need to be found…" Strung up if I have any say in it…

"No!" she cried. "I couldn't bear for anyone else to know… didn't really want you to know but I ... I couldn't go back to... I don't want Adam to... I can't..."

"Sam, we really need to report this. Can't let them get away with it. And I thought you and Adam were getting close?"

He watched as she coiled into herself and knew he was pushing too hard. "Alright, not the station… for now. We'll talk about that later. But you do need a doctor. I'll have him come here. You have to be looked after, Sam. And Adam should know where you are. He'll be expecting you..."

"I can… clean up… if you'll help me with the scrapes and cuts on my face, I can do the rest," she managed between sobs.

Holding her tight against his chest, it was all Foyle could do to hold back his own sobs. "You're a brave girl, Sam. But please, a doctor… Hmmm? Please Sam… And then I'll call Adam?"

She leaned back into the chair, away from him. Her dark swollen eyes glanced all around the room but she wouldn't look at him. He understood why. "This isn't your fault, Sam. You understand that, don't you?"

"I… I think I do but not everyone will agree. Some will say I… and anyway, Adam's out with some of his friends from... oh I dunno..."

Christopher took her hand in his. "Oh Sam, no…. no one who knows you would believe that this is your fault. You are not to blame and anyone who says differently can take it up with me." His feeble effort at comforting her only served to produce more sobs from her… and some inner ones from him. "And Adam will be home sometime and wonder where you are."

"Right," she sobbed. "But do we have to tell him... everything?"

"I'll keep it as short as possible, Sam; just let him know you won't be back tonight."

With taht he stepped away form her to make his phone calls.

So there is the beginning. I have most of the rough draft written but not quite polished and finished. I'll try to post once a week but make no promises; life is kind of messed up right now. Or if you think this is rubbish say so and I'll try something else.