"Dad!" Grace cried out. "Mum -quick!"

Connie was back in the room Immediately when she heard Grace yell – and almost swore when she saw Sam lying on the floor – knocked out cold, but she managed to check herself in time – suddenly remembering Grace was there. "Sh-ugar! Sam! What happened?" she asked Grace dropping down beside him and examining the egg that was forming on his forehead. "What did he do?"

"He missed the doorway!"

Connie was in the process of checking his pulse and looked up at her daughter – stunned by the response. "What?!"

"He wasn't looking where he was going!" She explained. " - and he walked into the door-frame!"

"Oh." Connie looked back at Sam, continuing her check – his pulse was steady. She lifted his head onto her knees. "Could you get me a cold, wet cloth from the kitchen please, Gracie?" Grace nodded and disappeared.

Sam grunted and mumbled something. "Alright, darling." Connie soothed him softly, as Grace returned with the cloth. "Thank you sweetie." Connie took the cloth and put in on Sam's forehead. "Don't worry Gracie – I think he's waking up." she said reassuringly to her daughter.

Sam mumbled something again.

"What was that, Sam?" Connie asked, leaning down.

"Blo-ody door-frame!"

Connie chuckled as Grace retorted loudly: "You can't blame the door-frame, Dad! You weren't looking where you were going!"

"Can you sit up!" Connie questioned. "- easy!" she added as he grimaced and gripped the arm she held across his chest when he sat up too quickly.

Now in an upright position, Sam groaned and closed his eyes – leaning back heavily against Connie as his head throbbed. "Owwww!"

Connie was very concerned. "Gracie, can you ring an ambulance, please darling."

"No!" Sam's eyes snapped open. "No ambulance!"

"Dad – Mum's right. You need checking over." Grace told him firmly – turning to pick up her mobile from the coffee table.

"No!" Sam repeated stubbornly. "Grace – go and get my medical case – your Mum's a doctor – she can check me out – over!" Thankfully, Connie either didn't notice – or ignored his corrected sentence and Grace obediently left the room.

"You have a medical case?" Connie retorted, smirking.

"Yeah" He answered. "Connie, please don't leave me!" he whined at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on – can you walk to the sofa?" She helped him up and supported him as he walked.

As he dropped down onto the sofa, he pulled her on top of him. "Whoops-a-daisy!" he remarked cheekily. She gave him frosty look. "What? – it was an accident!"

Now she knew he was ok – he was back to his old tricks. She moved off him "Yes – and pigs might fly!"

"What? Pigs can't fly!" Grace giggled, appearing with Sam's medical case.

Sam sighed. "It's just a saying Gracie, it means-"

"It means your Dad is a total fibber – as usual!" Connie exclaimed, cutting across him. "Could you get me some..."

"Frozen peas?" Grace finished for her.

"Yes – frozen peas." Connie agreed. "Wrap the packet in a tea towel, darling." Grace skipped out the room and Connie took a torch out of the medical case to begin her exam.

When it came to looking in his eyes, Sam found it very distracting – having her face so close to his and before he knew it was happening, he had brushed his lips over hers, eliciting a surprised moan of pleasure from her.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, nervously. "I didn't mean for that to happen – I..." But now he knew that whatever she said – she wanted him.

"It's ok – it was kind of...nice." she murmured, sitting up quickly when she heard Grace coming back. She cleared her throat. "Ok – follow my finger." He obediently did as he was told and Connie nodded – satisfied that he was ok. "No sign of concussion." She turned to Grace. "My conclusion is, whilst your Dad is an idiot to get himself into such situations – he will live!"

Grace giggled, handing her Mum the frozen peas. "Well, if he's ok – I'm going to bed now."

"Ok, darling. See you tomorrow – love you." Connie answered as Grace kissed them both.

"Love you, Mum – love you, Dad."

"Night, Gracie – love you too." Sam muttered.

Grace turned back at the doorway. "Remember to look where you're going when you go upstairs, Dad!" She sniggered cheekily. "Night, Simba!" They heard the dog bark in response as her footsteps disappeared up the stairs.

Connie turned to Sam and leaned over him – placing her hand on his chest, as her other hand held the frozen peas against his head. "How's that now? Headache any better?"

"Mmm-hm, it's ok." He murmured gazing at her.

She smiled. "I'll get you some paracetamol." Being so close to him was getting too much for her – particularly with the way he was looking at her. She started to get up, but he gripped her hand again. "What?" She asked, concerned that he was suddenly in pain.

"Taxi?" he whispered.

"Mmm – well, someone knocked themselves out before I had a chance to make the call."

"So, you'll stay?" he asked hopefully, as Simba bounced into the room – having been woken up by Grace.

"Oh, hello you!" Connie commented – seeing his arrival as a chance to ignore Sam's desperate question. "I was wondering when you'd make an appearance – actually I was starting to think that all you do nowadays is sleep under the kitchen counter!" Simba barked excitedly, as she ruffled his head – her other hand still clasped in Sam's grip. He was not going to let her leave.

"Simba had a short walk before Grace went to school – and I took him for a longer one before I drove to the airport, so he tired himself out." Sam informed her. He squeezed her hand – determined to get an answer. "Connie – please stay here..." 'with me', he wanted to add, but he was worried that it would be pushing the matter, so he didn't.

She gave a resigned sigh. "Well, it seems like you need looking after tonight...- as you know, concussion can develop later on...Hold it on there. I'll go and get you that paracetamol." She instructed, indicating the frozen peas. "Come on, Simba – I'll let you out the back before bed...- no!" She warned sternly, when Sam showed signs of wanting to follow her to the kitchen. "Stay there!"

She let Simba out and went in search of the paracetamol. It wasn't just that she wanted Sam to rest after his close encounter with the door-frame – she needed to get away from him.

Connie leant on the kitchen counter, trying to catch her breath as the events of the evening finally caught up with her. The kitchen was to near – too open and Sam wasn't known for doing as she had told him.

She opened the back door again, closing it quietly behind her and went out into the darkened garden. Going down the steps, she sat down on the bottom one, her feet on the grass. She rubbed her head gingerly and leaned forward, waiting for the inevitable that she knew was coming.