The sun shone brightly through the trees that surrounded the patch of green next to the river. Christopher was in his waders several feet from the bank casting his line as he tried to tease the fish in. Sam, as he had suggested, was propped against a tree with her book open. But every time he glanced over his shoulder to check on her, she was watching him. Not much progress on the book, I see...

Just then he felt a tug on his line and the next few minutes were consumed by his attention to reeling in his catch and securing it on his line at the bank until time to leave. By the time he glanced back at his wife, she was prone on the blanket, apparently napping. A warm smile bubbled through him and settled into his features as he watched her. But then remembering her veracious appetite, he turned his attention back to the fish.

The sun was high by the time he decided he'd caught enough trout to last a few days. Carefully he navigated back to the bank, secured his fish, and stepped out of his waders. Glancing at Sam, he thought she was still dozing, so he approached quietly and settled beside her, hoping for a quick wink or two himself.

His wife was capable of being devious, he discovered. As soon as he'd settled, his old battered trilby over his eyes and his legs crossed at his ankles, she rolled over and kissed him longingly. "Thought you'd never get tired of the fish," she said softly.

Lifting his trilby he looked up into her sparkling eyes. "Have a wife to feed now. And she's giving nourishment to another. My duty to provide the fish," he said with a tug at his mouth.

She looked at him with a bemused expression. "You are rather adorable, you know."

"Adorable? I should think that would apply more to you, my darling."

"Mmm... no. Not when you're serious, in your Chief Inspector role. But here, like this... relaxed and content... I can almost envision you as a boy."

He guffawed. "Bit past that, dear girl; but thank you for trying."

Sam released a small huff. "I meant it. There's a boyish quality about you when you aren't worrying over a case or Andrew or... me."

"Sam, I'm very aware of my own age and I..."

"Far too aware, if you ask me," she interrupted. "It's true you are older, Christopher; but you aren't old. And there is a boyish charm about you when you aren't worrying. It's in your eyes and it is one of the things I find most appealing about you. So please don't spoil it."

He studied her frustrated look and saw the disappointment in her eyes. He had to salvage this, had to get that look out of her eyes. "One of the things? Oh yes, nearly forgot... my hair and my ears," he said as he recalled the conversation from a few weeks ago. "You thought I might be an elf..."

"Yes, those and there are other things," she replied softly, her features relaxing again.

Seeing the disappointment dissipate, he decided to try to explain what it was that bothered him about his age. "Look love, I don't dwell on my age but the difference in our ages is there. It doesn't worry me so much in the present, but I do worry about the future, about you and our little elf and how you might fare without me around. Or worse, if I should become ill and you have to care for me and the elf."

Sam, being Sam, refused to follow him along that path. "Oh, I shall be alright. And if it comes to it, I'll fob you off on Andrew," she said with twinkling eyes.

Foyle , giving into her optimism, let his eyes roll away from her face. "Fate worse than death," he muttered. Then turning his gaze back to her, he let a grimace drift into a smile. "Alright, we'll have it your way then. But little elves require things, so I will need a job eventually. My pension will take care of us but not the house full of elves you seem to want."

"Oh? You thinking of going back to police work, again?"

He could see the gears shifting in her mind, her expression taking on a wistful look. "Nup, not if I can avoid it. I'll need to find something though. But it can wait a while longer.

She turned contemplative. "Perhaps not so many elves if it is going to put undue burden on you. I rather like having you underfoot every day."

"No place I'd rather be, Sam. But neither of us will feel the same if your little mischief maker," he said as he patted her abdomen, " has to go without because I'm not providing."

"My mischief maker? Seems his father is the one with all the mischief... and the elfin ears to prove it." Her eyes twinkled and she glowed as she fell back to the picnic rug. And Christopher Foyle's lips folded downward into a contented or perhaps even self-satisfied smile.

They ate a leisurely lunch and talked of unimportant things, mostly just enjoying their closeness. After they ate, they took a stroll around the wooded area and Sam fell into telling him again about the time she was nearly blown up in the woods as she and young Jimmy wandered near a bomb a few years before. Christopher didn't like to remember those times he might have lost her, the times bombs exploded around her or even just nearly did. His chest tightened at the thought that he might have lost her, lost this... his last chance at true happiness in life.

Sam looked at him puzzled at first and then realization struck. "It frightened you, didn't it Christopher? So much more than I realized. "

He swallowed back the bad taste that had formed in his mouth as he'd listened to her. "Wull, erm... it did. Quite a lot then aand... even more now that I see what we have. Too many times I could have lost you, Sam; and I don't know how I would've managed."

She melted into him. "Oh my dear Christopher. You always seem so ... so stoic, even hard at times, and yet you really are so very tender inside, aren't you?"

"Mmight be true Sam, at least where it concerns you. " He paused a moment and remembered another time when a woman had said he'd grown hard. "Elizabeth said I had grown hard. She thought it was because I had lost Rosalind."

"Elizabeth?" She seemed confused. But then, "Oh yes, I remember, Mrs. Lewes. You courted her before you left for the war, the last one that is."

"Right. "

"Was she correct? Had you hardened?"

"Perhaps because of the last war. Nnot because of Rosalind. Told Elizabeth that losing Rosalind changed nothing; marrying her had changed everything. She saved me from the darkness that had engulfed me during the war; brought me back to myself. FFeel that way now too, Sam. Mmarrying you has changed everything for me. When we first met, I was still grieving, I think. And worrying... about Andrew. But you made it better, made things seem possible again. And now, I feel as if I am given a new chance. Coming out of a dark place, Sam; you've brought me out of it. "

"Golly. I didn't realize... I mean, I knew you still loved her and that you were lonely but... I didn't realize."

"Careful not to let anyone see; thought it was best, especially for Andrew. Couldn't let him know that I had lost hope. All that kept me going in those years was raising him. He was my hold on sanity. And then you walked into my office that day and slowly, even in the middle of a bloody war, I was hopeful again. And now... wull, world's a bit brighter."

"I did that?" she asked in innocence.

"You did; you do," he replied just before he kissed her.

"Mmmmm... thought we were rationing," she cooed as their lips parted. He nuzzled against her cheek and then into her hair to tease at her ear. "Found an extra coupon," he whispered back.

Thanks to all who continue to read and review. I do want to take a moment to respond to part of one from "Guest". In their review they said, "Now, if you're willing to continue to be realistic, you should address the different tastes and interests of two people of such disparate ages. Then you can follow up by showing a father who can't keep up with his small children and finish by showing her trying to cope with teenagers while nursing an elderly husband."

Yes, there are challenges in such a marriage. But as for a woman being able to cope with it all, we've been doing it for generations. There was a time that it was quite common for much older men to marry much younger wives. My g-g grandfather did. After my g-g- grandmother died, he remarried and they had several more children. He was in his sixties at the time and she was mid twenties. For my grandfather, the children who were his aunts and uncles seemed more like siblings. G-G-Grandad's second wife didn't have to nurse him until the very end, when he was well into his 90's. And if the family stories are true, he not only managed to keep up with his offspring but built a small business empire (for his day) while doing it. I remember meeting two of my grandfather's aunts who were raised with him and they both had twinkles in their eyes when they talked about their dear papa, so they certainly didn't feel as if they'd missed out on anything. Also, we're talking about child rearing in the late 40's and into the 50's; very different than it is today. Dads weren't expected to be as hands on as fathers are now. As for dealing with teens and nursing an aging husband, we do it all the time except it is our parents we must look after. I did it, taking care of my dying mother while still having teens in the house and a healthy husband who still needed looking after too. My mother raised 4 with an ailing husband and an ailing parent. It isn't easy but the joys of the special moments are worth the difficulties. Besides, Christopher is in his early 50's at the time of this story, so not that old. But it isn't in my plan to follow them all through til the end of his life to examine the good and the bad of the situation. At least not in this story; perhaps food for further stories however.