Sorry I have been away for so long. Seems my muse has returned, so I will try to be more regular in my updates; at least not waiting years to post something new, haha.

The next morning, after helping Sam with breakfast and the clean-up, Christopher set up at the dining room table, preparing for undertaking his new possible career as a mystery writer. Sam had looked on as he carefully placed fresh paper and pen at one place and then going to a cupboard in the hall, pulled his typewriter off the shelf and placed it at another seat. "You need me to type for you?" She asked just to tease him.

That pulled Christopher up short. "Wull, erm…. Nothing to type, just yet."

"But when there is," she continued, barely able to contain her mirth.

Christopher, catching onto her teasing, looked as serious as she'd ever seen him. "Your …erm…. skills at the machine have improved? Don't know if the magazine readers will understand what illegal rambling is about."

"Only one way to find out," she fired back in a voice that sounded as if she was fighting back laughter.

Christopher tilted his head, one eye squinched, as he evaluated her response. "Wull, might be helpful later, but in reality, you being so close at the table… a bit more of a distraction I would think."

"Oh you… you are such a tease," she answered, a slight bit of color rising in her cheeks. "Besides, won't be long before I won't seem all that attractive, all bloated and huge with the results of you being so distracted."

Foyle's face melted into an expression of adoration. "I will always find you attractive, Mrs. Foyle. Can't imagine any circumstances where I wouldn't be distracted by you."

The pen and paper went unused that morning as Sam created even more distraction for her husband.

Christopher began again on his writing project that afternoon. Sam was comfortable settled on the divan in the sitting room as he settled at the table, his mind already turning through the events of the case he wanted to begin with. Carefully, he wrote at the top of the page, "The Case of the Cross Cultivator." A frown wrinkled his forehead as he considered his title. Can always change it later, I suppose.

He paused to remember how it all began and then began jotting down an outline of how events happened. After about an hour of recalling events, Christopher looked up at Sam. "I'm going to need names for everyone. Ssshouldn't use actual ones, I think."

Sam looked up from her book and smiled at him. "Yes, that's probably good. And you'll need a pen name too."

"Pen name? Er…hadn't thought of that, but I suppose it is wise." He paused a moment and then tilting his head as he often did when teasing her. "Suppose Clark Gable isn't an option, though."

Sam grinned. "Yes, I think that name is taken. You could use Fisher as your surname."

Foyle let a small smile turn his lips downward. "Seems appropriate." Contemplating given names, his face turned thoughtful. Could be Calvin Fisher."

"Calvin?" Sam's entire face showed her disdain for the name.

"Erm, yes. Heard somewhere that it means bald; that also seems appropriate."

"Oh you…" Sam replied with dancing eyes. "Well, if we are going off meanings… "

"Cyrus?" He winked at her. "I think it has youth as a part of its meaning."

"Well, better than Calvin," Sam said thoughtfully. "But it sounds old to me."

Chrsitopher felt his eyes crinkling as he watched her enthusiasm for helping him. Will need to include her in this.

"Oh, I know," she suddenly said. "Curtis. Doesn't it mean courteous? That certainly describes you."

"TThank you for thinking that of me. So, Curtis Fisher then?"

Sam smiled. "Yes, I like it."

"And what shall we name you?"

"Oh, I'm to be part of the story?" Her excitement was enchanting.

"Of course," he replied. "Told you several times, couldn't have done it without you. Besides, you were the one who worked out where to dig for the wife's body."

"Oh right, it was me, wasn't it?" Her pleased look made something within Christopher settle quite nicely in a contented heap.

"So who would you like to be?" He asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Something sort of… glamourous perhaps?"

"Repetitive initials but perhaps not SS?" Christopher murmured.

"Not something like Veronica Lake or Dorothy Lamour then?"

"Nup… Lamour a bit obvious, don't you think?"

"I suppose so," Sam sighed.

Christopher mulled over name as he gazed at his dear wife and inspiration came to him. "Dearing perhaps? As a surname?"

Sam looked startled at first but then a small smile settled over her features. "Dearing," she tested the sound of her fictious name as she gazed back at him with a look that made his heart feel very full. "But we need a given name; one that begins with D then?"

"If we are to mimic your actual name, then yes."

They tossed around several names, most of which Sam declined. She suggested two or three, including Dorothy. "For Lamour," she'd added.

"You are much more original than that." He watched smugly as his words settled over her.

"Oh, I say… I … original?"

"Yes. Your beauty comes from within, my darling. Nothing artificial at all."

Sam blushed slightly and looked down at her hands. "I think I am enjoying this naming game for your story."

Foyle smiled warmly at her. "I think I am enjoying watching you for this." After a moment of quite appreciation of one another from across the room, he cleared his throat. "But erm… still need a name."

After considering several more choices, they decided on Davinia. "Oh, and people could call her Davy, like people call me Sam."

"Would add to the story as some have been confused by your use of a man's name," he agreed.

"So, Davinia Dearing," Sam said emphatically.

"Ummm, yes. And now, Milner."

"Oh, I've already thought about that. Peter Mason. Peter was another of the disciples and Mason is a craftsman, just like a Milner."

Lifting an eyebrow at his wife, Christopher literally chewed the name over in his mouth, thinking. "I think you meant milliner, but yes, makes sense," he finally acknowledged.

They continued with the name game with Christopher jotting down names as they went. The last name left was one for Barbara Hicks. Sam's smile wanned, he noticed. "What about Beatrice Hawthorne?" he asked.

"Yes, I suppose that is as good as any," Sam replied moodily.

Realizing that there was something about Barbara Hicks that still bothered Sam, Christopher stood and moved to sit best to her. "What is it?"

Sam looked at him glumly. "Nothing. I'm being silly."

"Nnot silly, Sam. Something bothers you whenever she is mentioned."

"Its just that… She was so mean to you and yet, of all the women we came across while I was driving for you, she was the only one that seemed to … to touch you… your emotions."

Foyle considered what she said, his tongue working his cheek. "Nnot quite true. Several made me quite angry and more than one disgusted me. Ffelt sympathy for many. But Mrs. Hicks…. Ssuppose she touched something of the grief I carried with me. Sseemed like she needed someone to listen and understand and apparently, I would do. But never felt anything beyond the kind of kinship that grief brings, my darling. Nnever felt even a spark of anything like what I feel for you."

"Really? Because it seemed to me that… that you might have some feelings for her; you even hugged her that day, on the hill."

Christopher remembered that day, the day Barbara had revealed the reasons behind her attitude, it was painful listening to her. And yes, he'd hugged her, reluctantly. But it seemed to be something she needed. "Hugged her because she seemed so broken, Sam. Sshe needed some care, I thought. But what I was feeling; wull, nothing romantic, I can assure you. Bit of grief for her and… perhaps a bit of gratitude that I still had my son."

"Well, whatever you did and said to her, she seemed to have become less… antagonistic."

Twitching his jaw, Christopher debated what to say. Finally, he nodded. "Think so. Her, erm, note…she um, she said something along the lines of me restoring her opinion of men. Ssooo, maybe I was able to make a little difference? For her and any men she might encounter in the future?"

Sam looked up at him, her expression clearing just a bit. "Well, I suppose all the men in the country owe you a debt of gratitude," she teased.

"Not at all, just holding up the side," he replied, feeling a bit lighter himself. Glancing down, he saw the round bump that she had endeavored to hide for so long but was quite determinedly making its presence known now. Gingerly, he put his hand over the bump and let the sensation of the miracle that she was growing settle over him. Looking back up and into her eyes, he let his awe show in his face. "We've spent the better part of the afternoon thinking of names for people. But haven't given any thought to the most important characters in our continuing story, Sam. Have you had any thoughts about names for our two little elves?"

She smiled so brightly that Christopher could have sworn she glowed. "Not Winston or Clemintine," she said quickly.

"Nooo, we can certainly agree on that."

"I don't think I want to name them after my father or mother either. Not that I have anything against their names, but I just want…oh, I don't know… for them to have their own names."

"Couldn't agree more," he answered. "Can't say that I can recall too much repetitiveness in naming in my family; not that I ever had much."

"No family?"

"Nup, not to speak of. As I told you before, Foyles in any recent memory tended to come in ones or occasionally a pair of siblings. No large herds of children. And I was a single, as was Andrew. Rosalind has a brother but he doesn't have any children, so Andrew will be glad to have these two to count as family."

"He'll be more like an uncle than a brother, don't you think?"

"I think he will carve out whatever relationship he chooses with these two. I'll leave that up to him."

Sam looked thoughtful. "What about James…Jack, I mean?"

"Wull, while I'd certainly like to have a closer relationship, I don't see him as very involved. After all, he is technically still a Devereaux and has the responsibilities of all that. And while we've been in communication, I don't think we'll ever become close. Don't misunderstand; I believe he wants something but isn't quite certain what it is and there is still so much pain in it all for him. I'll let him decide how we are to proceed."

"But he is Andrew's brother, as much as these two will be his brothers or sisters," Sam said, as if to remind him.

"Yes and nnnooo. I imagine Andrew will be more involved with these two than he ever will be with Jack. He understands that I did have a life before I met his mother but it seems to still be uncomfortable for him to discuss Jack. He…tries, but I imagine it will always be awkward for him. And probably for Jack, as well."

"So, Andrew and Jack and James are all names that are already taken. No, Iain and since I'm not using my father's name, no Aubrey."

"No family names," Christopher said, just to keep her list short.

"Right."

"Although, Stewart for a boy might be quite nice."

"Mmmm…." Sam looked away with a slight frown on her face. "What about Arthur and Brian for boys? And for girls, perhaps Angela and Bridget?"

"Sam, you only considering A and B names?

"Yes, I thought it would make things simple. Then we could just follow the alphabet for more children."

Christopher blinked at her slowly. "You do realize there are twenty-six letters in the alphabet? Planning to use them all, are you?" He looked at her inquiringly while trying to tamp down his amusement. "Can't say I would mind the effort but mmight be bit hard on you, don't you think? If we succeed, I mean."

Sam looked astonished. "No… I just thought…" and then she looked more closely at him. "Oh, you… you're just teasing me."

Christopher let his mouth turn downward into one of his upside down smiles. "Could be. But to the matter of names, let's just choose names we think our children would be proud to have, hmmm?"

"Right," she relaxed.

"As for the boy names," Christopher offered, "I'm a bit partial to Samuel and Stewart."

Sam looked surprised. "Really? But wouldn't it be confusing… with two Sam's in the house?"

"Hmmm… right. Mmight have to think of something new to call you then; something like darling or maybe just… use your full name, Samantha."

"Oh, I rather like darling," she replied softly.

"Well, you are you know; my darling wife."

Any reply Sam might have said was hushed by a vigorous kiss from her husband.