Thank you all for reading and especially to those who take the time to review! Just in case you were wondering, I own nothing about Foyle's War but I do so like to play with the characters, especially DCS Foyle himself.

Early on it was suggested that there would be many pitfalls for a couple with such a large age difference as Christopher and Sam. Later, it was suggested that Sam getting her feelings hurt and Christopher petting over her and trying to soothe her was becoming redundant. But I do think when we are younger our feelings get hurt so much more than they do as we grow more mature and we learn not to take on the negative emotions of the people around us quite so much. Sam would be at an age where her own feelings would guide her first responses to events, where Christopher's age helps him step back from his emotions slightly to consider what is happening with others more in depth. Plus, I think that's just who he is, more of an observer most of the time. But Sam would be wholly in the middle of things and tend to react more emotionally. So that's why I keep writing about little skirmishes that are largely due to Sam's hurt feelings. In this story, Sam has yet to really pause and consider all the changes that are happening for Christopher, what all he is taking on, and how it must be effecting him. So that's why at times it might feel a bit repetitive.

And so...

The following week, Foyle accompanied Sam to her scheduled appointment with J.J. Josephson. Christopher wasn't overly worried about the pregnancy but visiting the doctor again for that reason did bring up memories of Rosalind. She had been very happy and excited about Andrew and had hoped so much for siblings to follow, but sadly it never quite happened. Christopher had been content with their small family but he knew Rosalind always regretted not having more children. As things happened though, he thought it was probably best that more babies hadn't come. He's struggled enough with trying to raise Andrew. Although he supposed Andrew might have had a better time of it after his mother's death if there had been siblings.

Sam was also excited about this baby, he knew. At first, she had been afraid but he'd seen a change over the fortnight. She was talking more about doing over Andrew's old room and where they might find some of the baby things given the scarcity of some items these days. Christopher supposed that was due not only to the continued rationing of some materials but also that so many of the recently demobbed soldiers and their wives were eager to get on with life and start their families. Sam had spoken with a few of the young mothers at church for ideas and one or two had offered to lend a few things to Sam to help her through the first days and months of motherhood. To Christopher, it was a sign that she was finally beginning to believe that this pregnancy would not be a repeat of her last one.

He was thinking all these things as he sat in the outer room of J.J's offices. But he was shaken from his thoughts when the door to the examining room opened and J.J. bade him inside. Sam was sitting in a chair at the doctor's desk and as J.J. settled in his chair behind it, Christopher took the chair next to Sam, feeling a little cautious after seeing her expression. She looked worried and she refused to look at him.

"Samantha is full of surprises, it seems," J.J. said once he was in his chair.

"Always has been," Christopher countered. He glanced over at Sam but her head was dipped and she was staring at her hands in her lap. Not a good sign…. But J.J's tone had been light, so Christopher tried to match his mood. "Ermm… what surprise do you two have for me now?"

The doctor smiled broadly. "Oh, it's a dilly," he chuckled. "Seems your wife is even more ingenious than either of us suspected. Seems she's managed to create two little Foyles, although I'm not so certain the world is quite ready for such an occurrence," he chortled.

Christopher's eyes widened as his brow rose almost to his hairline. And then he blinked slowly as he literally swallowed the news. His mouth was dry as he opened it to respond but it took a minute for his brain to find words. "Eh…erm… Ttwins?"

"Spot on, Christopher. In a few months you'll have two babbling babies underfoot."

Another blink, and another as the shock slowly faded and the reality began to settle in. Two babies. Two more mouths to feed. More work for Sam… and him. He'd need to be more helpful. Two… twins… Two little Christophers … or Sams… or better, a mixture of both… two. Another deep swallow. And then he dared look at his wife. He knew now why she'd been so uncomfortable when he entered the room, so worried. And he knew he needed to take that discomfort away. He took a deep breath to give him time to clarify what he would say. It mattered, it mattered greatly how he responded to the news.

"Wull, erm… that's a bit to take in," he finally managed. "Bbut, couldn't feel more honored."

Sam shot him a confused glance. "Honored?" she whispered.

"Yes. Honored. Having more children at my age feels like a privilege and having twins… wull… double the pleasure, don't you think Sam?" He let a smile tug the corners of his mouth down, hoping it would give her encouragement.

The answering quirk of her own mouth told him it was the right tactic. "You don't mind? Really?" There was hope in her eyes as she finally looked at him fully.

"Taken aback a little, I think. But nno, don't mind at'll. Like I said, honored. One of your very best surprises, love."

That did the trick. A broad, beautiful smile broke onto her face as her eyes danced. But then a cloud passed over her expression. "Sam?" He called her name as he watched the cloud.

She frowned and bit her lower lip as she pondered her dark thought. "We don't have to go back to my parent's to tell them, do we? I could just write a letter, don't you think?"

Christopher's chuckle was rare but genuine as his response. "Letter would do nicely, I think," was his only reply to that notion.

Public displays of affection were unusual for the Foyles but on that day, they walked back to Steep Lane with Sam's arm through his until the last hill, where he disentangled his arm from hers to take her hand in his. A block from the house he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. And on the top step of the house, he leaned into her for a small kiss before opening the door. Once inside, he paused in the entryway, keeping her captive in the small space. Leaning into her again, this time his body tantalizingly close to hers, he kissed her once more with more feeling. The straightening up, his eyes sparkling, he smirked. "Thought I'd best get that in before our two mischief makers get in the way," he teased.

Sam smiled. "Mischief makers?"

"Wull, they are our children, aren't they?"

She gifted him another bright smile. "Yes, they are; though I never realized that their father was so full of mischief until recently."

"Mmmm, tried to keep it hidden. Didn't want to be too irresistible."

"I'm sorry, my darling; but you failed that task from the very beginning."

"Mmmm, 'parently so." Standing there, smiling like a fool, he knew he was losing himself in her eyes. Not an unusual occurrence these days, he thought. He also thought perhaps they'd had enough excitement for one day, or at least the afternoon, so he changed gears. "Shall we celebrate with some tea?"

Christopher tried hard to hide his worry over the finances involved with two more mouths to feed and most times he believed he succeeded. But just how clearly his wife was able to read him became very clear one afternoon about three weeks after their surprising news. Sam cornered him over tea and asked what was worrying him so much. Was it the strain twins might put on their small household? Or was it just too much for him, the idea of so much upheaval after years of a relatively quiet life?

"Wull, if I'd been worried about mayhem, I'd never have asked you to marry me," he'd shot back at her. He spoke more harshly than he intended and he saw her look of hurt as his arrow hit squarely on the mark, which only made his already contrary mood worse. Sam had escaped his presence, first by busying herself in the kitchen and then by leaving altogether declaring she needed some air.

So now Christopher sat morosely in his chair in the front room, an early Scotch in hand, staring darkly at the door to the room, willing her to come through it. And his mood only worsened as the clock ticked off the minutes.

His bad mood began to change to worry as the sky grew darker outside and nightfall was threatening and she still hadn't returned. Where could she be? The question became a mantra as twilight turned to darkness. He considered going out to look for her but hadn't the slightest idea of where to look, so he stayed rooted in his chair until his worry propelled him out of it to pace the floor. Another half hour of worry passed and it was changing to fear. Perhaps she was at the pub, he thought. Grabbing his coat and hat, he bounded out of the door, feeling some small bit of relief mixing with his fear because finally he was doing something.

His heart plummeted when he stepped into the pub and saw no sign of her. Now what? Christopher was truly in the grips of fear, almost panic, as he stepped back onto the pavement. He walked around the corner and turned onto the high street, peering in every window hoping to sight her. Descending some steps, he turned toward one of the cafes that he knew she enjoyed. But she wasn't there either.

Circling back around, he decided to head back up Swan Terrace and then home to see if she had returned. As he passed the old graveyard, something drew him to Rosalind's grave and using the torch he'd brought along with him, he wound his way through the headstones to hers. And there he found Sam on a bench under a nearby tree curled into a ball, asleep.

"Sam," he said gently as he approached her. When she didn't awaken, he knelt beside her and touched her shoulder tenderly. "Wake up Love, you must be freezing."

Slowly she began to stir and her eyes fluttered open. "Christopher?" She looked around and her eyes grew large as she realized what had happened. He noted that those eyes were red and her cheeks tear stained. "It's me, Love. I've been searching for you. Why are you here?"

"I…." she sat up, tears glistening at her eyes. "I thought Rosalind might help me."

"Rosalind?" Christopher was surprised.

"Yes, sometimes I come here and talk with her when… when I don't understand you."

He slipped off his coat and put it around her when he saw her start to shiver. "Ddon't understand me?" he asked as he sat on the bench next to her.

"This afternoon. You were so… well, angry almost. And I don't understand why. Have I done something?"

Christopher took a deep breath and then put his arm around her, drawing her closer to him. "No. It was entirely me. You know I've worried about finding work and I have made several inquiries but I've yet to have any good results. This afternoon, wull, I s'pose that was my worry speaking."

"I thought, the way you spoke … you don't regret… " A small sob pierced the darkness that surrounded them.

Christopher closed his eyes in agony as her words sent a chill through him. "Regret? Not at all," he said as he squeezed her tightly against him again. "Bit overwhelmed at times by it all, but nno, never regret. How could I regret having such happiness in my life again, Sam? All those years of feeling as cold as Rosalind's stone over there… No love, no remorse whatsoever." After a moment, he leaned down to try to glimpse her face but it was too dark to make out much of anything. "Let's go home, Sam. Get you warmed up? We can talk there, if you want." Sam nodded and they stood together, Christopher's arm still firmly around her as they walked back to Steep Lane, Christopher chastising himself the entire way for causing her such sorrow.

The talk didn't come that night. Once they were safely at home, Christopher went to prepare something for Sam to eat after sending her upstairs for a warm bath. He wasn't particularly hungry, guilt over his behavior taking away his appetite. But he knew Sam would be starving and it was his responsibility after all, to look after her and their two children. His grimace at the thought turned to a soft smile as he put the kettle on for tea. Good thing he'd managed to stay in good health as he would certainly be challenged to keep up with his growing family in the next few years.

Supper was quiet. It was obvious to Christopher that Sam was knackered. And truth be told, the emotions of the day had him thinking an early evening might benefit him as well. Consequently after cleaning the dishes and then listening to a short radio program, he suggested they retire. Both climbed into bed with a book in hand. He propped himself against the headboard and Sam settled against him, her book propped against her raised knees. After a gentle kiss to her neck, Christopher opened his book to read. Content in each other's company, both Foyles relaxed and within the half hour the lights were turned off and they were snuggled together as sleep settled over the house.