They travelled to Hastings that afternoon. The house was cool and showed obvious signs of Christopher's long absence. They put their bags in the bedroom and went about, opening windows and pulling sheets from the furniture. "There's nothing in the cupboard for food," he told Sam. "We'll eat at the pub tonight and shop tomorrow, if that's alright."

"Why don't I run out and pick up a few things, for breakfast perhaps?" she replied.

Chuckling, Christopher pulled out his wallet and handed her some notes. " 'Fraid to be without food, Sam? Think I might starve you?"

"No, not at all. But... well, just in case we... have another late morning," she said shyly.

"Wull then," he reached into his pocket and pulled out another note, "mmight get enough for a meal or two then."

Sam blushed and looked up at him, her eyes dancing. "Oh... you're terrible."

He stood in the doorway as she skipped down the steps and walked off down the street towards the shops, overcome once again with his good fortune.

They'd just finished dinner at the pub and were leaving when DC Hadley entered. Christopher spoke to the young man and introduced Sam, although Hadley probably had met her when they investigated the murder of the young woman who had been staying at the guest house when Sam worked there. Once the niceties were exchanged, Hadley started to move on but stopped. "Oh, and sir?"

Christopher turned to face the young man again. "Yes?"

"I remember you were making inquiries before you left... into certain events," he said as he eyed Sam cautiously. "Um, I'm not sure if you recall..."

Glancing in Sam's direction, Christopher stepped closer to Hadley. "I do. Something turned up?"

"Well yes... sir. About a month ago. They gave us the slip but..."

"I'll come by the station tomorrow and you can fill me in," Christopher said quickly. Hadley looked in Sam's direction and nodded. "Of course, sir." He nodded to Sam and then to Christopher and turned to join the crowd inside the pub.

"What was that about?" Sam asked as they walked back toward their home.

"What? Oh...nothing really," Christopher replied as he chewed the inside of his mouth. "Just some young skives who nicked a few quid from old Mrs. Stapleton. I told her I'd catch them and almost did. But then I left and probably no one else continued to look for them."

"Surely that's been so long ago there's no chance of getting her money back?

"Most likely. I'll see what Hadley has to show me tomorrow. Could be they young hooligans are into some real trouble now and that will be something for the police."

She leaned against his arm as they walked. "I miss those days, don't you?" she asked.

"Nup, not in the least," he replied quickly. "Have far more interesting inquiries to make these days," he said as he eyed her cheekily.

Sam stopped in the middle of the pavement. "Christopher Foyle, I cannot believe you said that... like... like that."

Eyes crinkling at the corners, Christopher let a smile grow on his face. "Nnot sure why you'd be surprised. After all, yyou're rousing all sorts of thoughts in my mind these days, Mrs. Foyle."

Glancing down at his trousers, she smirked. "Seems your thoughts are not the only thing being roused." then saucily, she turned and headed down the road, leaving Christopher to catch up to her.

He deliberately did not catch her until she stood on the steps on Steep Lane. Then hurrying up the steps he pinned her against the door and claimed his prize by kissing her passionately. He only relented when the sound of Mrs. Douglas was heard from below as she muttered about indecency to Mr. Douglas as they walked on down the hill. Christopher lifted his head in time to see Mr. Douglas turning his face toward them for a last, longing look. The old man was wearing a smile. Christopher tipped his hat to the old gentleman and returned his attention to his bride. "Now Mrs. Foyle, you've been properly punished for your insolence and I think perhaps are ready to return to the evening's activities?"

Sam smiled, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "If that's the punishment you usually impart, I'm surprised Hastings wasn't the center of all crime during the war."

"Oh? Wull, only use that particular punishment for the most insubordinate delinquents," he replied as he reached around her to unlock the door.

Their evening ended as one might expect the second evening of one's marriage to end. Christopher fell asleep almost immediately once the evening's activities had concluded, happily marveling at his ability to respond to his young wife in such a satisfactory manner. Her head once again propped in the crook of his shoulder and her hand over his heart, Sam was smiling and wondering why she had so feared being with this wonderfully considerate man.

Christopher woke early in the morning, the sun just peeking through the drawn drapes at the window. Sam had rolled away from him in the night and was curled in a tight ball, her back against his side. He smiled lazily as he contemplated the bare skin of her shoulder where the covers had slid away. Temptation was pushing him to instigate an early morning tryst but recalling the doctor's words in hospital, he decided to let her sleep instead. It had been a busy few days for Sam leading up to the wedding and she certainly hadn't had enough rest since. Today would be a day of rest for he, he concluded. Besides, we was to meet Hadley later in the morning to see what the young investigator had for him.

Carefully he slipped from under the covers and crept from the room. A half hour later he was fully washed and shaven. Creeping back into the room, he retrieved some clothes from his wardrobe and eased stealthily back to the bathroom to dress. Instead of one of the suits the men at the station would expect to see him in, Christopher had chosen a more casual look. Donning dark corduroy trousers and a checked shirt, he slipped into a simple waistcoat. He'd wear a wool tie and light jacket when he went out. In the meantime, he decided to investigate what had been stocked in the pantry and attempt to prepare a reasonable breakfast. Content in his work, happy to have Sam resting comfortably upstairs, he was also wearing a soft smile.

The look she gave him when Sam appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later could only be described as a pout. But it was a pout that only warmed Christopher Foyle to his core. "Good morning," he greeted her as he turned from his efforts at the hob.

Sam moaned and deepened her pout. "Why didn't you wake me," she asked as she slid into a chair at the small table.

"Because my darling wife, you are under doctor's orders to get plenty of rest; something I know you haven't done for several days. The extra bit of lie in was required. And now we'll have a suitable breakfast and I'll leave you to do some more resting while I see what Hadley has for me."

But, I thought... well yesterday morning we... well, it was so... pleasant," she groaned again.

Watching the dissatisfaction in her expression and hearing the disappointment in her voice, Christopher let the corner of his mouth drop in a chuffed smirk. "It was pleasant, very erm...pleasant. But you must remember, Mrs. Foyle, that you've married an old man and he needs his rest too... at least a small break in the activities."

Her gaze dropped involuntarily to the fly of his trousers as her cheeks flushed slightly. "Didn't seem all that old to me last night; seemed very energetic if you ask me..."

"Wull um... thank you for that. But keep at it like we've been and you'll find just how disobliging the old boy can be."

"Really?" Her expression turned contemplative, her mouth setting in a manner that Foyle recognized all too well. She was thinking again. He knew exactly when her thought concluded and was ready when her gaze rose to meet his eyes. With a cheekiness he wouldn't have credited her with possessing, Sam looked at him squarely and declared, "that requires investigation."

He turned off the hob and pulled the skillet off. Filling the plates with eggs, bacon, and toast, he wished there was more he could feed her. Setting her plate in front of her, he retrieved a cup for her tea and then took care of his plate. Sitting down across from her, he looked at the meal and sighed. "Wish we had more in the pantry. I'll stop at the shops on my way back from the station," he told her.

Sam offered, "I just picked up a few things yesterday. Looks like the shops have more in them now though. Maybe things are really beginning to get back to normal after the war." And then she dug in.

Christopher smiled as he watched her eat. Seemed like the food stocks in the shops weren't the only thing returning to normal. Sam's taste for food was definitely back.

So how am I doing? Still okay?