Kindred Spirits

Rating: Teen

Standard Disclaimer: Foyle's war quite rightly belongs to Anthony Horowitz, its genius creator and the brilliant cast and crew who brought it to our screens and I'm only borrowing some of the characters for fun.

Summary: Andrew returns home from the war to heal an estrangement with his father and Sam, only to unexpectedly run into another woman from his past. Parings: Foyle/Sam, Andrew/OC. Borrows canon characters, dialogue and plotlines from Eagle Day, Bleak Midwinter and All Clear.

Authors Note: I'm amazed at the response I've been getting on this fic which is partly why I've been updating so quickly. Full credit acknowledged to antipholusluciana's fic Brookie's Christmas Mischief for where I got the idea for some of the events that take place here. Yes it is true that married women could serve as nurses with some allied forces in the Great War. Look for a show called Anzac Girls which does cover the issue in quite a bit of depth.

Chapter 3: December 1942: A helping Hand

Barely fifteen minutes later after Sam had left Mr Foyle's office in much better spirits than when she'd entered it. She was sitting in the driver's seat of one of the two marked police cars which were being dispatched to the garage. She could feel the gentle pressure on the small of her back and without needing to look knew that her dear Christopher was resting his hand across the back of the seat as he often did while they drove. She doubted that he realized he was doing it but she was never going to tell him as she had always found it endearing and a great comfort when they were working on the more difficult cases. As they drew closer to the garage she listened to Mr Foyle giving instructions to the uniformed police sitting in the back.

'Rrright, now remember that this man is dangerous and quite possibly armed so I don't want anybody taking unnecessary risks. Keep each other in sight at all times and nobody goes anywhere alone inside the building until we either subdue him or we discover he isn't there.'

The men murmured in agreement and a few minutes later, Sam pulled the car to a stop besides the abandoned Wolseley and waited until Christopher and the uniformed officers from both cars had assembled by the door. When she got out of the car, Christopher bade her gently.

'Best keep back Sam, I already almost lost you once today. Rrrather not tempt fate twice so quickly.'

'Be careful sir.'

A broad smile was his response and Sam felt her heart flutter as she watched him reach into his overcoat and draw out a Webley revolver and lead the men into the building. A sudden voice from one of the constables inside made the guilt all the worse for Sam as her fears for her unknown saviour were suddenly realised.

'Sir, we've got a deadun over here. Looks like he's been stabbed pretty recently, the poor sod.'

Christopher's voice was the next she heard, 'rrright, well no sign of our killer so we'll need to find the owner, call for the MO to establish the precise time of death. Then we'll need to conduct a search, see if we can get an identity of our man.'

Running footsteps from behind her heralded the arrival of a man a bit older than Christopher who took one look at the assembled police, the shock and disbelief clear on his face as he asked Sam.

'What's going on here Miss?'

Sam tried to be as calm as she could even as the memories flashed in her mind as she answered, 'I'm afraid there's been a murder sir, a young man's just been found dead inside.'

The man's face darkened, 'it was Harry wasn't it, he done this didn't he?'

Sam nodded solemnly, knowing without being asked who "Harry" was before she asked him.

'Who are you sir? I'm afraid this is a crime scene and we can't let anyone in at the moment.'

'I'm Neville Johnson, this is my garage.'

Sam quickly spoke to the constables guarding the door who soon let the man inside, his voice now joining the conversation she could hear from inside as the officers searched the building. Christopher and Mr Johnson went out the back to search a flat and Sam stood by the car trying to rub some warmth into her hands against the chill of the air. She wasn't sure how long it was but eventually the two men came out of the garage. Christopher bore his trademark "cry havoc" look that told her he'd found what he'd been looking for while Mr Johnson looked grim.

Feeling a bit sorry for him, Sam walked over and asked, 'sorry to bother you again, but I still do need my car mended. Before Harry tried to kill me he did say you were full, do you know anybody nearby who could fix our Wolseley? I do need it back so I can do my job.'

He looked rather confused, but popped open the bonnet of the Wolseley and took a quick look at the damaged radiator before he straightened up and began.

'Well, first of all I'm sorry about what happened to you Miss, your boss just told me everything. My fault for employing the little bastard in the first place. But you're in luck about the car because a few days ago a friend of mine sold me a Wolseley, the chassis is a wreck but most of the parts are still good so I'm stripping it down for spares. I'll get yours fixed by tomorrow morning, free of charge, and I'll even deliver it to the nick for you.'

'We couldn't possibly...' Sam tried to protest.

The old mechanic waved her off and Sam felt a hand on her shoulder as Christopher praised.

'Well done Sam.'

Sam spent the drive back to the station in silence, feeling rather guilty about Eric Clayton, the image of the ambulance men carrying out the body with a sheet covering it etched firmly in her mind. Foyle noticed the subdued mood on Sam's face and had a fairly good idea what was wrong with her.

'Oh Sam, oh my poor darling. This is exactly why I try and keep you away from danger, but no matter how hard I try...'

Foyle's face twisted into a grimace as he remembered all the time's he'd nearly been responsible for the death of the remarkable young woman sitting to his right.

'First Jerry nearly kills us in that pub, then Jerry bombs her house, then I nearly send her to her death in Bexhill and now this. Maybe I should just send her back to Lyminster, she won't be happy but at least she'll be safe. I've been so selfish wanting her near me…'

When they got back to the station, Foyle made a few phone calls to neighbouring jurisdictions putting out Harry's description to ensure he couldn't leave Hastings before he began to work on the paperwork to officially clear Milner of involvement in his wife's death. After he began drafting reports on the events of that day, Sam came into his office bringing him a cup of tea and he had a sudden unpleasant thought triggered by long buried memories of the trenches and the aftermath of battles fought long ago.

'She'll be having nightmares and quite possibly delayed shock about this, I'd better check that her landlady can look after her.'

As Sam put the cup down on his desk, Foyle tentatively asked her.

'Sam? I don't mean to pry but will your landlady be able to take care of you tonight? You've had a horrible time of it today and you really shouldn't be on your own.'

Sam looked surprised but he saw the fear marring her eyes as she said.

'Oh golly, I didn't think of that. Mrs West has gone to Surrey for Christmas to be with her family and she won't be back until after New Year's. I told mummy I'd be taking the train home on Christmas Eve.'

'Nnnot acceptable, you really shouldn't be on your own, not after today Sam. You can stay with me if you want to.'

Her eyes lit up as she beamed at him, 'oh thank you sir, that's very generous of you.'

Foyle smiled, glad to be able to help and soon led Sam out of the station and up towards Steep Lane soon offering his coat when he noticed her shivering beside him. Setting her down in the chair before the fire, Foyle busied himself warming the house before he surveyed her face. Sam looked quite calm and contented, but as Foyle remembered her last stay he realised.

'She's probably hungry, god knows after today she deserves a good dinner. I wonder if I've still got any of that 38 Bordeaux Charles sent me just before the war. A glass or two of wine should help her sleep, and Andrew cleared out the last of the Glenlivet last time he was on leave.'

The phone rang distracting him from his train of thought and Foyle said, 'I'll deal with this Sam and then see what I can find in the larder. You'll be needing a good meal after today.'

Sam giggled, 'how well you know me sir.'

Foyle raised a finger, 'we're off duty Sam.'

He hurried off to the phone and Sam soon realised it was Milner on the other end as she could make out Christopher's half of the conversation.

'We know who did it….Tried to kill Sam when she took the car in…I know, I'm not sure how much more I can take and it gets worse every time… She's here…Don't want her on her own after what happened… You were a soldier Milner you must have seen what happened in the aftermath of battle… No, I did ask and her landladies in Surrey… I'll keep her here until Christmas Eve…Yes, it was Constable Peters… I want you back in tomorrow…Yes, thank you, good night Paul.'

Foyle put the phone down and smiled as he realised that Sam had been listening.

'Always wanted to be a detective, didn't you my curious nymph.'

Aloud he told her, 'that was Milner, wanting to know what happened and how you were.'

'He's a good man Christopher. What Peters did to him was awful.'

Foyle couldn't agree more but figured he'd best get the dinner on and so hurried into his kitchen and made the best meal his culinary skills and rationing allowed before he reached into the very back of the larder and pulled out a dusty bottle of wine.

It was worth the sacrifice just to see the way Sam's eyes lit up as he brought it to the table along with their dinner Foyle thought. The pleasant conversation, a good meal and a beautiful woman in his house brought back memories of so many evenings he'd shared with Rosalind before Andrew had been born. But Sam was no Rosalind, no, she had so many of her own unique qualities that he couldn't help but realise just how much he loved her even if he knew in all good conscience that he didn't deserve her love. Sam herself felt like a princess as she ate and drank her way through the veritable feast he provided. Her dear Christopher was spoiling her rotten and it made her wish she could just reach across and pull him into her arms and show him how much she loved him. Even though she realized his nobility would probably never allow him to return her feelings. After the dishes had been put away and the two of them were relaxing by the fire, Sam sighed in contentment as she looked across at him.

'Oh Christopher, if you only knew….'

Foyle noticed a while later that Sam had fallen asleep on the settee with a beaming smile on her face. He quickly found a blanket and covered her before pressing a kiss to her temple and sitting back in his armchair where he soon fell into a doze before the warm fire…

Meanwhile Paul Milner had just returned to his home from another enjoyable evening with Edith. The telephone call he'd just assumed would be a quick routine update turned out to be anything but as he learned of the shocking events that had happened that day. Edith had been horrified when he'd explained what he'd learned, but what had been worse was his superior's tone of helplessness as he'd discussed his driver's state of mind.

Like all the officers in Hastings, Paul had quickly learned of the uncommonly close bond between his boss and the young woman. Paul himself had always thought of Sam as something like a younger sister and had never felt any attraction to her. But he could see the underlying tension between her and Mr Foyle as clearly as daylight just like all the others, he'd seen its strength even more clearly since he had begun courting Edith.

'He won't bring himself to tell her he loves her because he thinks it would be improper for a man of his age and she won't tell him she loves him because she thinks he would never return her feelings. Honestly, this is getting unbearable, even Mr Reid agreed that the pair would suit each other well.'

His mind made up on the subject, Paul began to think of a way to try and encourage the pair to admit their feelings and suddenly it came to him as he grinned.

'Christmas, of course…. I know just the thing, Mr Foyle is a man of habit so I should be able to beat him into the station tomorrow, especially if Sam is without the car.'

Milner fell asleep and next morning after getting ready he hurriedly followed his usual route to the station, stopping in a park and giving some coins to a couple of children to acquire the materials he needed for his plan. Luckily when he got to the station he found that Mr Foyle had not yet arrived and after a whispered conversation with Brookie which set the Londoner sniggering, he quickly fetched a stepladder…

A short while later, Foyle led Sam into the station and felt confused as he realized that the building was unusually quiet. Beyond Brooke at the desk he couldn't see anybody else around but put it out of his mind as he walked towards his office. As Foyle opened his office door he heard Sam's giggle from behind him just as instinct made him look up.

A bunch of mistletoe had been hung up just beyond the doorway and he was now standing directly underneath it.

'Brooke, why am I not surprised? At least nobodies watching.'

Sam had seen her chance and like a cat stalking a mouse, she pounced. As she drew closer to Christopher and rested her arms on his shoulders she could see the mild look of panic in his eyes.'

Sam purred 'surely you're not going to refuse a kiss under the mistletoe are you sir? It's bad luck.'

'Sam, I…'

But his power of speech was gone and on instinct he drew Sam close and kissed her, his long held dreams of doing this to her and Sam's mewing sounds of pleasure fuelling his passion as he felt her arms encircle his neck. Eternity seemed to stretch before him but the need to breathe made him draw away. His guilt sapping his earlier pleasure as he looked into Sam's flushed and radiant face. Somehow she seemed to be able to read his mind and said.

'I know what you're going to say? You're too old and I'd only be wasting myself on you and there's young men aplenty who'd be able to give me what you can't and the people will gossip. You can put that right out of your mind Christopher because it's utter rot.'

Foyle's eyes widened and he tried to speak, 'Sam…'

A finger to his lips quietened him, 'I know you care for me Christopher so don't try and deny it, I've seen it every single day I've worked with you. You aren't too old for me, in fact I think you're just perfect and in case you don't know, my dad is fifteen years older than mummy. Dad lost his first wife to a gas attack in the first war, she was serving with the French army as a nurse you see. They'd only been married a few months when it happened and dad was devastated, it's one of the main reasons why he joined the church.'

Foyle felt more and more of his objections dropping by the moment, as if Sam had fired a full artillery salvo into the brick wall that had he seemingly built around himself since Rosalind had died and blown it to pieces.

He knew she was right, 'You shared a beautiful life with Rosalind, and doesn't Sam deserve the same? To lose her without at least giving her what you gave to Rosalind..'

Foyle pulled Sam into his arms and said, 'you're right Sam, it's just hard. I never thought I'd ever meet anybody who could really accept me for who I am after Roz. But you do my sweet Samantha.'

Sam giggled and kissed him again before Foyle drew away and said, 'this won't be easy, this isn't exactly the done thing. I am your employer, and I doubt the A/C would be too pleased, nnnot to forget Andrew, it could make him a bit awkward.'

'We'll manage Christopher, don't forget that with the shortage of staff I doubt they'll be able to find you a new driver and with all the grief they've put you through I think they owe you a few favours. As for Andrew, what right does he have to object?'

Foyle laughed fondly, 'I really never stood a chance against you, did I Sam?'

'No, and I'm jolly well glad to hear you admit it.'

They held each other, sharing small kisses and endearments glad to be free of the burden until a knock came at the door and Sam and Foyle drew apart as Milner came in.

Milner surveyed the obvious new lovers while trying to keep a straight face.

'Lipstick marks on his neck and collar, her hair is missing a few pins and they're both looking like the cat that got the cream. I'd say it worked and about time too.'

'Sir, we got a call about a disturbance in town. Banging noises coming from a bank.'

'Rrright, has Neville Johnson turned up with the Wolseley?'

'Yes sir, he dropped it off a few minutes ago.'

'Good, we'll get some uniforms and go investigate, oh and by the way. Tell Brooke to take down the mistletoe while we're out, he's made his point.'

Milner grinned, 'yes sir, but it wasn't Brooke who put it there, I did it.'

Foyle smiled, 'Wwell done, looks like I owe you a favour then.'