Sam looked up at him blankly, too disturbed still by Daisy’s nightmare to be able to respond.
Nightmares had been a regular occurrence when Daisy was much younger, and at the time Sam hadn’t equated them with the tension of living with Malcolm. She had only realised that significance when they had abruptly stopped once she and Daisy had moved out of Malcolm’s house and begun living on their own.
Until tonight.
It was too much of a coincidence, surely, that this should have happened after seeing Malcolm at the hotel earlier?
Admittedly Daisy had given no indication at the time that she had recognised her father, but maybe it hadn’t been a conscious recognition but a subliminal one? The mind often played strange tricks on people, so maybe Daisy had recognised Malcolm without even being aware that she had?
‘Samantha?’ Xander asked again gently.
She blinked, focusing on him with effort. ‘Sorry.’ She grimaced, giving herself a mental shake as she stood up. ‘That was...unexpected,’ she murmured as she followed him from the bedroom, leaving the door wide open this time, the better to be able to hear Daisy if she should call out again.
‘Just over-excitement, do you think?’ Xander wondered, replenishing their brandy glasses once they had returned to the sitting room, before handing one to Samantha. ‘You’ll feel better if you drink some more of that,’ he encouraged gruffly. ‘Slowly this time.’
Sam obediently took the glass from him, still worried about Daisy’s nightmare, and not in the mood to argue with Xander over a glass of brandy. ‘It was a different sort of day for her, with lots of unusual, if exciting, stimuli,’ she answered him woodenly.
‘But?’ Xander observed her closely as he moved to sink down onto the sofa.
Because he really did think he was now in danger of falling down.
And wouldn’t that look just wonderful, very manly, if he were to keel over and collapse at Samantha’s bare feet?
His leg was giving him hell, after he had been on it for so many hours already today, and it hadn’t helped when Daisy had launched herself at him just now when he hadn’t been expecting it.
Although physically painful, having Daisy turn to him in that way for reassurance and comfort had surprisingly felt quite nice.
To know that Daisy liked him enough, trusted him enough, to want to turn to him for comfort was a good feeling after Xander’s weeks of uncertainty about himself.
It made him even more determined to be worthy of Daisy’s trust.
Samantha looked as if she was in need of a little comfort too right now.
‘Come and sit beside me,’ he instructed in a voice that brooked no argument. ‘Don’t make me have to stand up again and come get you, Samantha,’ he added with a pained wince.
She looked at him blankly again for several long seconds, almost as if she had forgotten he was there, before moving stiffly across the room to sit down beside him.
Maybe she really had forgotten he was there?
Surely children of all ages had nightmares? A result of a too-active imagination at that age? Xander seemed to remember having them as a child himself. Of course, his had been due to living with his bastard of a father, but—