A/N: Wow! Thank you all so much for the reviews! I am glad that you are enjoying the story and really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think.

All editing credit goes to LauraRaposa and any mistakes are mine. The characters belong to the creators and the actors who portray them. I only own my imagination.

Chapter 3

They drank their tea in silence. Milner still tried to manage the pain while Foyle tried to determine how best to address the task ahead of him. He had applied and changed a few field dressings in his day but that was over 20 years ago and under very different circumstances.

For this wasn't some lad in a trench, it was his sergeant, a man he had come to respect and care about, and he didn't want this situation to make things awkward between them. He knew he needed to be as businesslike as possible but that was complicated by the fact that he had no earthly idea what he was supposed to do.

Once he saw that they were both finished with tea, Foyle cleared his throat. "Right, well, shall we, err, get on with it?"

Milner took a deep breath and nodded as he reached down to fumble with his pant leg. "I think I can manage, Sir, I mean if you'd rather not…"

Foyle shook his head and stood. He removed his jacket, hung it up on the back of the chair, unclasped his cufflinks and rolled up his shirtsleeves. "Nonsense, Milner. Now, how can I help?"

He rounded the desk, placed the bowl of water down on the floor and, for the first time, took in the sight of the piece of aluminum that made up the lower half of his sergeant's leg. He tore his gaze away and looked up at Milner, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Milner blushed slightly but met his gaze. "Well, there are buckles just here," he gestured to the sides of his leg, "and another at the back. You've got to undo those and then it just comes off."

Foyle nodded and knelt in front of Milner's chair, he closed his eyes briefly and then reached for the first buckle. He noticed Milner was griping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles were starting to turn white. Foyle fiddled with the buckle for a minute before he released it. He moved on to the next one and released it carefully as well.

Foyle glanced up at Milner who had not moved during the process, but still gripped the arms of his chair. "Can you slide forward a bit? That it," he said as he reached under Milner's leg and carefully unfastened the final buckle.

"Right, so shall I just pull it off then?"

Milner nodded tightly and Foyle turned his attention to removal of the aluminum prosthetic. He took his time and worked carefully but he still heard the hitches in Milner's breathing as the lower part of his leg was freed. To Foyle the process seemed to take forever, but it was only two minutes before he carefully laid the prosthetic to one side.

Milner leaned his head back, released the arms of the chair and let out a sigh of relief. Foyle smiled slightly before he turned his attention back to Milner's leg. The stump attached to the prosthetic was swathed in bandages that clearly needed to be changed.

He bit his lip before he looked up at his sergeant. "Looks like you could do with some fresh bandages. Do you have more or shall I grab some from the first aid cupboard?"

"There are some in that drawer there, Sir," said Milner as he gestured to the second drawer in his desk.

"Ah, excellent," said the DCS as he picked through the drawer's supply of bandages, gauze and ointment. "Shouldn't take long then."

Foyle carefully began to remove the soiled bandages. He was glad he thought to fetch the warm water and towel since the bandages were crusty in some places and required a soak before Foyle could unwrap them. He worked silently with his eyes focused on his task as his patient gazed down at him with gratitude.

Not since he'd been in hospital had Milner had someone take care of him like this. His wife, Jane, had tried once when he first came home from hospital but she had barely been able to help him out of his prosthetic before she fled the room in tears. The sight of his wound clearly was too much for her.

Milner had been convinced at the time that it was his fault but now he wasn't so sure. If DCS Foyle, who had no real reason to take care of him like this, could do so with such efficiency and compassion then surely the woman who vowed to care for him 'in sickness and in health' should be able to do the same.

Perhaps its his time in the Army during the Great War or his many years in the police force that allows Mr. Foyle to deal with my injury so calmly. If so, is it unfair of me to expect Jane, who had led such a sheltered life before she married me, to be able to do the same? At least with Mr. Foyle I don't feel like this injury is some terrible burden that I must bear alone.

Milner closed his eyes and put his head back on his chair, happy to let someone else take care of things just this once.

Foyle winced at the sight of the raw skin and blisters that appeared as the last of the bandages were removed. He took a deep breath and set to cleaning the area as carefully as possible. Next, he removed the extra supplies from the drawer and doctored the blistered areas as best he could before he re-dressed the wound.

Foyle's first aid on Milner took about 15 minutes during which time the sergeant had not moved at all. When Foyle glanced up he understood why - the younger man was fast asleep. His chin rested against his chest, while his breathing was deep and even. Milner was clearly worn out by his painful afternoon.

Foyle smiled softly at the sight and quietly tided up. He disposed of the soiled bandages and returned the other supplies to the drawer before he rolled down his shirtsleeves and put his jacket back on. He paused for a minute to debate if he should wake Milner and see him home.

His own bed would certainly be more comfortable than that chair. But it would probably be best to let the lad rest a little before I try to maneuver him out to the car. Besides, it was just after 3 p.m. now. If Milner slept until after 5 p.m. we wouldn't make such a spectacle of getting him outside.

Mind made up, Foyle quietly headed toward the door. He was halfway there when he spotted Milner's coat thrown over one of the chairs. He went to hang it on the coat rack, but stopped himself and instead crossed back to the desk and gently spread it over the sleeping man. This done the DCS gathered the enamel bowl, soiled towel and tea things and silently left the room.