A/N: Just something short that's been sitting around on my hard drive for a while, think I need to get it off my chest. Hope you like- oh, and COE spoilers, for any of those who still don't know what happens…

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never is.

…*…

If there was one person Martha Milligan wasn't expecting to see upon entering her office at the end of a long, hard, stressful day, it was him, leaning back nonchalantly in her office chair, looking smaller, curled closer within himself than the last time she had seen and yet still to big for her cramped office.

'Jack.'

The emphasis was heavy on the name no one had used in months, the sound familiar as her tongue wrapped around the single syllable- consonant, vowel, consonant, consonant.

His lips twist up at the corners in a phantom impression of a smile.

'Suddenly in the heart of UNIT officeland I hear the voice of a nightingale.' The smile freezes. 'See a nightingale.'

There is a pause as Martha smiles back at the greeting- their little joke- and though the motion is built on foundations of affection, it is cemented with a kind of pity.

'Jack,' she repeats, stepping in through the door, closing it with a snap. She gets the feeling that Jack doesn't want to be seen. 'What're you- where've you-,' she sighs. 'How did you get in here?'

Elbows bent on the desk, Jack dangles a familiar key from a piece of worn twine wrapped and weaved about his knuckles.

'Always keep it handy. And doors have never been much of a problem.'

'For you.'

'For me,' he acknowledges, spooling the string back up between his fingers, clutching the serrated edges of the key tight against his palm. 'Nice place you've got here.'

Martha only raises an eyebrow in reply. Her office is tiny, and doesn't have a window.

He picks up a silver-framed photograph from next to the whirring computer monitor. He taps the glass bluntly with a finger. 'Looks like it was a good day.'

'Best day of my life,' she can't help the grin as she watches Jack set the photo of herself and Tom dancing on their wedding day back down.

'Sorry we couldn't make it.'

'You were busy, I understand, of course I understand.'

Jack stands abruptly, as if he has caught himself doing something that he shouldn't have been doing and the harsh lighting throws his wearied face into a stark contrast against the grin he usually pins upon his features.

'It's not a problem me being here, is it?' he asks, already making moves towards the door. Martha stops him with a hand to the chest and he shrinks back.

'Not if you tell me why you're here.'

'I… I wanted to make sure that you were happy.'

Martha frowns. 'I am, Jack. Really.'

It wasn't the kind of question she felt she could reciprocate. She wouldn't want to hear the answer, truth or lie.

'Good, I-… Good,' Jack nods. 'That was… that was it. Just checking up.'

He goes to move for the door handle again and, again, Martha stops him, this time gripping his coat sleeve- his grey coat sleeve.

'This is a new coat,' she observes.

Jack stares hard at her small hand resting against the dark wool.

'It is. Not new new. After the Hub and uh… We were on the run, hiding…Ianto bought it.'

Martha's hand is hastily withdrawn.

'Oh, Jack, I'm sorry.'

Jack shrugs. 'I know.'

They stand in silence for a long moment, Jack still clearly restless, eyes flickering between the floor and the door. Sensing that he is about to leave and she still has so many questions to ask, Martha breaks it.

'Jack, if you don't mind me asking, it's just… I've been speaking to Gwen and… and there's clearly something she's not telling me about… and after… Where've you been?'

'Around. Needed some time. I've got plenty of it.'

'Gwen's been frantic looking for you.'

'Sounds like Gwen.'

'She's nearly seven months pregnant, y'know.'

'Has it been that long?'

'Yes. And you haven't-,'

'I'm going to see her. Today, later, in fact. I just wanted to sa-… see you first. While I was here. Like I said, checking up.'

'Well, I'm fine, Jack, maybe it's you who should be-,'

'I really should go.'

And she can't stop him this time, because he's already lifting his arms, lowering the key over his head and around his neck, coat whipping away out of the door out of the corner of her eye and she can't quite focus on him even though she knows he's there when she says,

'You're scared you're going to forget him.'

The shifting haze that is Jack appears to still and she can only just hear his voice as he mutters 'What?'

'I saw the footage, Jack. You and Ianto against the 456.'

'What?' The key is off his neck, in his hand again now, and his face is blank, unreadable, that little disguising trick Jack could play to make you doubt yourself.

'I had to,' she continues, barely aware of the single tear making its way down her cheek. 'It's my work, they had all the MOs look at the footage of the virus being released, see if we could learn anything… I know what he said to you.'

'And… did you learn anything from it?'

'No. It didn't help. Didn't help anyone.'

'No…'

'And you're scared you're going to forget him, scared you'll break that promise. We can help you, Jack, if you just-,'

'I'm scared I won't even realise I've forgotten him.'

Martha inhaled sharply. 'Jack-,'

Jack's fallen features are rearranging, rebuilding on his face, angular lines and hard set eyes that won't take no for an answer, and Martha knows that there will be no arguing with him.

'Have a good life, Martha,' he says, both firm and soft. 'Be careful. Can you do that for me?'

'Jack, what're you-,'

And then, he's gone. And she has only just realised that what he had really come to say was goodbye.