How the Love Gets In

Charles cursed his stupidity for what felt like the thousandth time as he felt the sharp sting of a thorn pierce his skin. Why of why did he let them talk him into tackling the deadly bramble bush at the end of the garden today of all days? Ahh yes that's right. He volunteered. He'd wanted a distraction, any kind of distraction, to take his mind off what a complete fuck muppet he'd been about the whole mystery medic situation as Ian had dubbed it. God when did is life turn into a Rom-Com film? He could hear the film synopsis running over and over in his head already.

Army War hero finds out his ex-wife is dying and decides to give up his career to care for her. Hero falls in love with his wife all over again and tries to get a second chance but it's too late and the wife dies. The devastated widower spends several years alone and unhappy, having given up on ever falling in love again. Then one night he gets roped into going speed dating and instantly forms a connection with a mysterious and much younger Army medic. After losing her number, he searches high and low and, after several near misses and almost meetings, the pair of star cross lovers meet again by chance at some remote location, probably on top of a high rise building, where said medic manages to mend the fractured pieces of his heart enabling them to fall head over heels and live happily ever after. The end. Yeah right!

Charles gave a sigh as he swept a hand across his sweaty brow. Despite the cold December air, he was beginning to feel warm in only his short sleeved t-shirt and plaid shirt. He'd clearly been watching one too many chick flicks during his Friday night movie nights with Beth and Sam and had romance on the brain. Next time he was putting on an action film, vote or no vote. Preoccupied with taking out all his pent up anger and frustration on the brambles, Charles almost missed Sam yelling his name from the patio steps. Turing to see what all the fuss was about Charles noticed Sam holding up the phone and sighed as he trudged his way back up to the house. It was probably mum wanting to check in to see how he was doing. Again. Honestly he was perfectly capable of looking after himself thank you very much. Throwing his gardening gloves on the kitchen table and picks up the cordless phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello Charles. This is Dr Grounds on Garrison FM." Who on earth? Pinching his nose in agitation Charles sent Sam a look that clearly said 'you should have warned me it was a sales call. Or better yet, hung up.' Sam for his part, was looking decidedly shifty, much like he did when he and his friend Jessica decided to put worms in the sandwiches and pond water in the tea of the ladies from her weekly book club. Needless to say it hadn't gone down very well.

"Look, I'm not interested in whatever it is you're selling. I'm perfectly happy with the BT package I have, and I don't need any new windows or doors thank you." Charles bit back a grown as Dr Grounds quickly intervened before he had the chance to hang up.

"I'm not selling anything. I just want to help. Your son called the station and asked for advice on how to help you find a new wife. He's genuinely worried about you." Charles' eyes sought out Sam who was doing his best to sneak as quietly as he could back upstairs. "Who is this?" He asked in confusion. If this was Sam's idea of a joke, it certainly wasn't funny. The voice on the end responded in a patient tone as if explaining something to a confused toddler.

"Dr Grounds, Garrison FM. You are on the air." Hang on did she say Garrison FM? But that means. Oh the kid is getting grounded for the rest of his life. "Is this live? Sam did you call the radio station? Jesus Sam is the entire Army listening to this? For Godsakes!" Charles' furious gaze returned to Sam who was trying to sneak back up the stairs. Charles reached out and grabbed the back of his jumper and yanked him back. Holding his hand over the receiver he hissed, "Not another step Samuel. Get back here. You're not leaving me here to suffer this alone Scamp." It was rare Charles used his 'Army voice' or saw his Captain Stern face as Rebecca had dubbed his fierce authoritative expression. As Charles took in Sam's frightened and uncertain expression his anger began to fade and he sighed in defeat as he focused on the voice chattering in his ear.

"Charles, Sam feels that since your wife's death you've been desperately unhappy. He's genuinely worried about you and thought we might be able to help. He doesn't know how to talk to you about everything. Maybe if we talked, it might help him a bit." Charles looked down at Sam's pleading eye. Oh Christ there go the puppy eyes. He never could resist them. With a sigh he muttered a reluctant, "Alright," as he sat on the stairs stretching out his long legs in front of him. As he felt Sam settle himself against him he wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders as he placed the phone on loud speaker between them. Charles steeled himself for the awkward questions when the good Doctor began speaking and tried not to think about the fact that his colleagues and men he had once commanded were privy to his private life as though he was an open book. "I know this is difficult but how long ago did you wife die?" Dr Grounds asked, her voice soft over the airwaves.

"It's been about a year and a half." Charles answered wearily.

"Have you had any relationship since?"

"No," he muttered as he glanced down at his feet conscious of the fact that Sam was looking at him.

"No? Who not?" Dr Grounds asked persistently.

"Look, Doctor, I don't want to be rude but.."

"I don't want to invade you're privacy." Charles snorted and muttered sarcastically, "Of course you don't." Charles but his lip thoughtfully as the silence on the line and in the house stretched on. Oh what the hell. All or nothing right? "Look, things were difficult at first and it's taken a lot of adjusting but I think I'm holding my own as a dad. Sam and I will get along just fine. As soon as I break his radio and confiscate his mobile and ipad." Dr Grounds chuckle at Charles' attempt to lighten the mood. "I have no doubt that you're a good dad. You can tell a lot from a person's voice. But something must be missing if Sam feels that you're still under a dark cloud. How are you sleeping?" Sam's voice interrupts.

"Tell her how you don't sleep at night Dad." Charles' eyes flew to Sam's face in surprise.

"How do you know that?" Not bothering to hide the disbelief in his voice.

"I hear you walking around sometimes at night. You know how the floorboards creak and grown, like they're talking to each other when nobody else is around. You yell out in your sleep too. Who's Geraint by the way?" Charles ignored Sam's questions as he tries to figure out how to answer Dr Grounds'.

"Look its Christmas. It's true I haven't been sleeping well. I was a Captain in the Army until recently and I get nightmares. Memories of my tours and my life with Rebecca have been resurfacing lately that's all. Rebecca, my wife, loved this time of year. She did all she could to make it a truly magical time for Sam. It's just hard. The kids need a mother."

"Could it be that you need someone just as much as Sam does?" Dr Grounds asks. Charles doesn't answer. How could he when he didn't know the answer?

"What was it you loved about your wife Charles?" Charles let out a strained chuckle. Where did he start? "I don't know. When I first met Rebecca everything was so clear, I just knew. It's hard to describe really. Over the years I spent more time away on tour, we drifted apart and the spark just wasn't there anymore. I guess I preferred living out of a burgen more than I wanted a settled life. It wasn't until Rebecca got sick and I moved back to help her out that I rediscovered what it was that I loved about her in the first place. It wasn't just one thing. It was her ability to make me laugh, her little quirks that used to drive me insane like how when her nose began to twitch that meant that it was about to rain, how she'd dance and sing around the kitchen to Elton John, or how a touch of her hand on mine would send my heart soaring. It was just like… well. Magic," he finished in a whisper as he ran his hands through Sam's soft curls. Lost in his memories, Charles almost missed Dr Ground's question, "Do you think there's someone out they you could love as much, if not more than your wife?" Charles paused as his mind conjured up a picture of a pair of vivid green eyes and a cheeky smile.

"I don't know if you can get that lucky twice. But there was this one woman that I met recently that I felt I had a connection with."

"Oh where did you meet her?"

"Well that's the thing. I don't know who she is. I only met her briefly on a night out. I'm not even entirely sure if I have her correct name. There was just something about her…."

"What was her name and how did you meet her Charles?" Dr Grounds asked, her voice holding a slight tone of excitement at the latest development.

"Well it was on a night out speed dating. Most of the women I saw first were…well, not my cup of tea shall we say. I was about ready to give up the ghost when this woman comes and sits down at my table. Molly she said her name was." God why am I doing this? Charles asked himself as he reached out and pulled a throw over Sam's sleeping shoulders having moved him to the sofa after he'd fallen asleep. "What was it about this Molly that made her different from the other women you met that night? Why give her a chance?" Charles let out a breath as he replayed the events of that night over in his mind. What was it about the cheeky cockney that had gotten under his skin in such a short amount of time?

"I don't know. Contrary to what people think, I've never been that confident with the attention I get from women. It makes me uncomfortable and I never know how to react or what to say. She was just different though. Since Rebecca, I'd never even considered dating again until I met her. She was easy to talk to and I felt like she was actually interested in what I had to say rather than pretending so she could flirt her way into my trousers. She had a wicked sense of humour and a sharp tongue that made me engage my brain. It turned out she's an army medic and we talked for ages about Army life and our shared experiences on tour. I don't know how, but she had this refreshing way of looking at the world that made me start to believe that anything was possible if you believed it. I never thought I'd feel that again. She just had this look in her eyes when I was talking, a flash of something I couldn't quite place. Whatever it was, it made me think that she understood exactly how I felt; almost as if she'd experienced the same grief and heartache that I had. Everybody has been great, really supportive and understanding, but nobody really understands how I feel. I think she does. It sounds daft after knowing her for what five minutes? But she's made me think that I can move on and be happy again." Charles let out a breath when he finished his speech. For a few minutes he'd forgotten completely that he was talking live on the radio to thousands of service people across the world.

"Charles. You said that the kind of love you had for Rebecca doesn't come along twice. Well, what if you had the chance again with this young medic? Would you take it? You said you had her number. Have you thought about calling her to maybe meet for a drink, see how things go? Do you think you'd like to see her and get to know her better? See if there is a real spark there?" Charles rubbed his neck nervously as he felt Sam move closer to the phone as he rubbed his eyes. It seemed he'd woken up at some point during his impromptu monologue.

"Well you see that's where things get complicated. I had her number. She wrote it on my arm before I left. But that night I got quite plastered and ended up with a raging hangover the next day. I got into the shower, completely forgetting about the writing. I didn't notice until I spotted the last three digits. By then it was too late. I guess now I'll never know if we were destined for more or not."

"Thank you Charles. If you've just tuned in you've been listening to…well, lets just call him sleepless in Bath shall we. We'll be right back with the listener's response, your responses, to the things we've been discussing." Charles looked down at Sam in confusion as he moved the phone closer.

"What's she talking about?" Sam looked at Charles in disbelief, as if he'd just asked him who the current Queen of England was. "It's a talk show. This is the bit where the audience gets to call in and comment on what you just said."

"Oh," Charles muttered with a raised eyebrow. "Well this is really fun…and helpful," he muttered sarcastically. "About as fun as having my blisters checked over by the medic." Just as Sam was about to answer an excited voice came through the phone. "Hello? I just tuned in and I was wondering….could I get this guy's number? Or better yet a photo of him in his uniform? I do love a man in Khaki." Charles groaned as Sam hit his forehead in frustration.

"Samuel James, you are so dead. Oh and getting nothing but coal for Christmas," Charles growled quietly as Sam fought to stifle his giggles. Dr Grounds didn't have that problem, giving a light airy laugh as the caller rang off. "Well I'm afraid that's all we have time for. I'm Dr Grounds and you've been listening to Garrison FM. To all my listeners, have a great Christmas and keep safe wherever you are. To Sleepless in Bath, please call and let us know how you get on." Charles snorted as he muttered, "oh you can count on it Doc." Shaking his head he gestured towards the stairs, indicating to Sam that it was time for bed. He had an awful feeling that his quiet life was about to end. He could only hope he'd be able to enjoy Christmas before the inevitable storm arrived.

A/N: Thankyou so much for the lovely reviews, its nice to know so many of you are enjoying this. I'm sorry about the cliffhanger in the last chapter, but I thougt we she see how our favourite captain is holding up after his little misshap.i am enjoying throwing a few obsitcles in the way of our favourite couple but hopefully there paths will cross at somepoint. Please R&R, it means a lot.