Title: 47: Kiss

Author: TartanLioness

Summary: Response to prompt100 number 47: Kiss. A somewhat longer response for those of you who were sad about the shortness of the ficlets. Also, I know this mentions a pregnant Edie drinking wine but I would like to point out that in the '40s, there was little awareness that alcohol could be harmful to an unborn child.

"A toast!" said Edith Milner with a large smile, one hand holding up her glass of wine, the other placed protectively on her protruding belly. "To our friends! And a happy Christmas!"

Her guests lifted their glasses in salute. "Happy Christmas," they replied.

The Milners' guests, who were placed around the large dining table, were a motley group of people. Foyle and Sam were there, as well as a few of Edith's childhood friends and their husbands, and the mood was light and jovial.

It was the second Christmas since the war and food was more readily available; the turkey they'd shared had inspired Milner to tell his wife and guests about the turkey incident a few years earlier. The others had laughed until they shook when Sam had mock-indignantly insisted that it would have been a crime to waste a perfectly good turkey after the evidence tag had been mislaid. Even Foyle, who was his usual reticent self, had smiled cheerily at the memory. This had been the start of many memories and anecdotes shared as they ate their dinner and little Clementine Milner played on the rug in the dining room, confident that her parents were close by and that the world was a good place.

Foyle marvelled that Sam seemed to be her normal bright self despite the end of her relationship with Adam. There was no hint of wistfulness in her demeanour, not the slightest little sign… Instead she was even merrier than normal it seemed, laughing with the Milners and playing with their daughter, singing carols and tucking into her turkey with great gusto.

It was nearly half past nine before the party rose from the dining table to move into the sitting room for coffee and liqueurs.

With regret Sam informed Edith that she'd better push off; she had to get up early the next day in order to go up to Lyminster and spend Christmas with her parents.

"Oh, but Sam, it's really coming down out there," Edie protested, gesturing vaguely to the window and the snow that was quickly covering the ground outside. "Don't you think you ought to wait, at least until it stops snowing?"

"I'd better not, I'm afraid, Edie, though I've really enjoyed the evening. The rum punch will keep me quite warm, I am sure," Sam said lightly as they walked into the hall. A moment later, Foyle joined them, looking disappointed.

"Leaving already?" he asked, one eyebrow raised in question. Sam nodded.

"Yes, sir. Early start tomorrow, I'm afraid. Heading up to Lyminster for Christmas."

"Oh. Well, do allow me to walk you home. Really shouldn't be walking alone in this weather, you know." He smiled crookedly at her.

"That would be lovely," Sam beamed.

"Well, I'd better get Paul. He wouldn't want you to leave without saying goodbye," Edie said, then left to find her husband so he might bid their guests a good-night as well.

Foyle took Sam's coat off its hanger and held it open for her to slip into, and then put on his own woollen coat and scarf.

As Sam lifted her chin to tie her own scarf, she happened to look up and an impish thought sprang into her mind. It was Christmas after all, and all she really wished for was a kiss from her dashing boss. Well, if she were completely honest, all she really wished for was his love, but she'd settle for what was at least within the realm of possibility: a Christmas kiss.

"Do you know, sir, that there is a bit of mistletoe hanging from the lamp?" she asked glibly, blushing a little bit.

He glanced up and immediately spotted the festive bit of greenery. Twisting his lips to bite the inside of his cheek, he said, "So there is."

Had she pointed it out because she wanted him to kiss her? It was amazing that even the notion of the sprig of leaves and berries above them could make his heart race in his chest. Of course, it wasn't actually racing because of the mistletoe… but rather in anticipation of what it meant to be caught underneath said mistletoe with Sam.

"It's jolly bad luck, you know, not to share a kiss," Sam went on, her eyes large and dark in contrast to her pale skin.

"Is it?" He tried to appear calm despite his thudding heart. Sam's eyes were so full of… of what? Despite having known and worked with Sam for five years and having seen her at her best and worst, he was finding it difficult to place the emotions in her beautiful brown eyes. Trust, perhaps, but more than that. Affection? And – dare he even think it? – longing? As well as a hint of anxiety?

Most of all, she just looked joyful.

"Yes, very much. Better not risk it, I'd say, sir."

"No, I don't suppose we'd better," he replied thoughtfully.

He smiled and leaned in to peck her lips. It took all his willpower to pull back after the merest of touches and when he did, he noticed that Sam was biting her lip and looking… disappointed? Reaching up, he picked a small, white berry off the plant and offered it to his companion.

"Happy Christmas, Sam," he said.

Accepting it, she replied despondently, "And to you, sir."

"Everything all right?"

"Yes, sir. I suppose I just thought you might want to… never mind, sir. I'd better push off."

A hand on her elbow stopped her from walking past him.

"Thought I might want to… do what?" he enquired gently. Sam looked down, chewing on her lower lip.

"It doesn't matter, sir," she said softly.

"Sam," he entreated her. She sighed.

"I just thought you might kiss me… properly," she said, feeling utterly humiliated.

"Oh." It was insufficient, he knew. But despite everything, her frank invitation to kiss her left him stunned and dazed.

"Please just forget it, sir." Again her departure was halted by his hand on her arm.

"Do you want me to kiss you? Properly?" he asked quietly when she finally raised her eyes to meet his. She nodded slowly and he took a deep breath to slow his heartbeat.

He lifted his hand from her arm to caress her cheek tenderly, thrilled that Sam seemed to be as full of anticipation as he was. He neared her slowly, giving her time to pull away, and when she didn't he let his lips touch hers again. This time he didn't immediately pull back; instead he lingered, increasing the pressure on her mouth when he heard her soft gasp in response.

When he broke contact, Sam's eyes were still closed and a small smile played on her rosy lips.

"All right, Sam?" Foyle asked gently.

"Mmh, tickety-boo, sir," she replied dreamily, finally opening her eyes and bestowing upon him a full, glorious smile as she reached up to pick another berry from the mistletoe above them.

Mimicking his earlier gesture, she held it out to him. He took it from her and put it carefully into his pocket. Then, despite the possibility of returning Milners, he placed his hands on her arms and drew her into a warm embrace. She slipped her hands inside his open coat and placed them on the lapels of his suit jacket – one curled up in a fist around the berry he had picked for her, the other flat against his chest, feeling his quick heartbeat through the material.

His arms were surprisingly strong as they encircled her and she wished that she could just stay there forever, letting her senses be overwhelmed… the heat from his body, the feeling of his pulse beneath her fingers revealing how much their shared kisses had thrilled him, his masculine scent, the sight of his crinkled eyes as he smiled at her...

This time it was she who leaned in to touch her lips to his, one hand holding on to his lapel as she pulled him nearer. His arms tightened around her, nearly crushing her to him as he parted her lips and slipped his tongue in to play leisurely with hers.

Her hands wandered up around his shoulders and into his hair, the fingers of one hand tangling in the slight curls at the back of his head. A warm wave of pleasure washed over him at the sensation and he intensified his kiss. Under her coat, his hands were tracking a meandering path up her spine, caressing her back gently through the fabric of her dress.

Parting from him, Sam breathlessly licked her swollen lips. He couldn't help but smile widely as he plucked another berry and let it slip into his pocket along with the one Sam had offered him.

He allowed her time to breathe by lovingly kissing her throat, thrilling at the impassioned sounds she was making as his lips caressed the tiny leap of her pulse. One hand he kept on her hip as he cupped her face sweetly with the other, stroking her flushed cheeks and entangling his fingers in her coppery curls.

She repaid him by dodging his lips when they next sought hers, instead sucking sweetly on his earlobe. Dear God, where did she learn that? he wondered, closing his eyes to savour the sensation. A groan escaped him and he almost felt embarrassed until Sam pulled away and he discovered the twinkle in her dark eyes as she reached up to pick yet another berry. He couldn't stop himself leaning in again and –

The sound of Paul's slow, irregular gait made them jump apart guiltily, both turning to face the door to the drawing room. Foyle discreetly lifted a hand to wipe off any tell-tale signs of Sam's lipstick on his face, at the same time glancing over to make sure that Sam's own lips were free of incriminating smudges.

When the door opened and their hosts emerged, Foyle was reasonably sure that both he and Sam, though flushed and smiling like fools, weren't showing any outward sign of what had passed between them.

"I'm sorry it took so long. I'm afraid Kitty was telling Paul a rather amusing tale and wouldn't allow him to leave, not even to say goodbye to his guests," Edie said, rolling her eyes at her friend's behaviour while the departing pair smiled good-naturedly.

"It was lovely seeing you," Paul said, reaching out to shake Foyle's hand and bending to kiss Sam's cheek softly. "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for inviting us, we had a lovely time," said Sam, beaming up at the tall man. "And happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas," Milner replied with a smile, following his guests out onto the front step. "Goodnight, sir. Sam."

"Goodnight," they bade before walking off.

Soon the house was obscured by the falling snow and Foyle let his gloved hand find Sam's as they walked side by side. She glanced up at him briefly, a smile on her lips, and squeezed his hand.

Returning to the warmth of his hall, Paul found Edith standing underneath the sprig of mistletoe they'd hung up. With a mischievous smile, he walked over to her and put his arms around her, glancing down at her belly with love.

"Look up," he muttered. She did. Then she laughed.

"Sorry, darling," she said, averting his kiss. "All the berries are gone. That means the end of the kissing, I'm afraid."

Startled, Milner looked up and inspected the sprig more closely. When he'd hung it up earlier, he was certain he'd noticed several clusters of berries, and while he was certainly aware that a few couples had already made use of the Christmas privilege connected with the plant, he wondered how on earth all the berries could have disappeared so quickly.

By the front door of Sam's billet, the young woman dug her hand into her pocket and held a small twig above her head, giving her companion a meaningful look. He glanced up at the bit of mistletoe she'd pinched and then, without reluctance, he complied.