Chapter 4:

-/-

Doctor John Smith knew he had fucked up.

It had been a mistake to go to Ayr. It had been even more of a mistake to allow his curiosity to draw him into meeting with Mary MacDonald. If he had just stayed away, if he had just let it go when his common sense warned him to then he wouldn't have found himself meeting Harold Saxon.

It was like being trapped in a room with a snake, all practiced smiles and pretty glimmering scales, dark unblinking eyes that seemed to be able to see right through you, and the sure knowledge that this man's bite was poisonous. John felt like clawing his own skin off just after being in the same room as him.

Yet what disturbed John the most were the ways in which Harry reminded him of Missy.

Like Missy he was magnetic, your eyes couldn't help but watch him and he preened under the attention. Like Missy he could smell a lie coming before you even uttered it. Like Missy he set traps in his office to suss out his visitors. Like Missy Harry Saxon gave off the aura of an apex predator, of something extra barely contained by the human skin he was wearing. Like Missy he was used to being the smartest person in the room.

Yet unlike Missy, Harry Saxon seemed incapable of real feelings or empathy. He was ice whilst Missy was fire. Where John felt drawn to Missy he felt repulsed by Harry, and not simply because he was in love with her.

It had unsettled John to see Missy's wedding photograph there in Saxon's office. To have to confront the idea that the smiling man in the photograph had actually seemed human, that something had therefore happened to turn Harold Saxon into the cold blooded reptile that used his ability to read people solely for his own benefit. And John couldn't shake the notion that it was Missy, or something to do with Missy that was at the bottom of it, and he had raked the whole thing back up again just because of his god damned need to follow a story.

It was a good job John was a writer and not a shrink himself, as the few hours had had tried to unpick Harold Saxon's motivations had already given him a headache. He needed a hot shower, a good meal and then a long uninterrupted night's sleep.

John was relieved to get back to the privacy of his hotel room, he felt safer having familiar walls around him. It was a childish fear, one that lingered at the back of his mind, and one that John couldn't shake…it was like he could still feel those dark cold eyes on him, dissecting him, coldly weighing up whether he was to be prey or perhaps just something to toy with. No matter whether it was irrational or not it helped John make up his mind. He had spent too long hanging around with old ghosts. All John had gained from his investigations were more questions and none of the answers to his own dilemma.

It was time for a break…a break from his break…God perhaps he was cracking up again?

Douglas had originally offered him the use of his little country retreat and it was time John took him up on that offer. He would be able to concentrate on his book. Put some space between him and the mess his poking around in the past had stirred up. Tomorrow John could disappear and hopefully never cross paths with Harold Saxon ever again.

It was best for John and regardless of whether they remained a couple, it was best for Missy too. John didn't want Harold Saxon anywhere near her, he didn't need to know more about why she ran any longer, not when John felt the same urge after only half an hour in Saxon's company.

-/-

Missy Saxon was nervous. She ran her hands over the simple dark grey silk blouse and black pencil skirt combination. Her still damp hair was pulled back in a simple knot at the nape of her neck and Missy had barely reapplied any makeup, just enough to give her face a little colour, she was looking far too pale and drawn these past few weeks.

Her raised hand hesitated as she went to knock on the hotel room door; every possible reaction was running through her mind. Would John be pleased to see her, would this separation have increased his desire for her? Would he pull her inside and kiss her not caring that she was breaking the very promise she had made to give him space? Or would he be angry? Would Missy sudden appearance make things worse and not better?

All of these things were possible; in fact they were all probable knowing their turbulent relationship. Still Missy wasn't going to find any answers hiding behind this door.

Knocking lightly Missy's breath caught as she waited…and waited…her irritation growing when there was no sound of life from inside the room. It was after ten John should have been here…unless he was out, perhaps meeting up with friends…or perhaps another wo…

Refusing to even allow that thought to linger Missy knocked harder and louder, her own heart pounding hard in her chest.

-/-

John didn't hear the noise at first; his head held under the warm shower spray, eyes closed as he savoured the feeling. It was late; he was tired, breathing in through his nose he held the breath counting to ten before releasing it softly, hands reaching up to rake through his curls and work out some of the knots.

Switching off the water John leant against the wet tile that was when he heard the knocking. Cursing under his breath as the persistent knocking continued John considered ignoring it, someone must have got the wrong room…unless of course it was the hotel reception? Although why they didn't just phone him?

Well it seemed whether he ignored it or not, his visitor wasn't just going to go away.

Grumbling john grabbed the nearest towel; wrapping it around his waist and making sure it was secure, before grabbing another that he draped around his shoulders and used to attack his hair as he stepped back into his bedroom.

"I'm coming just hold your bloody horses!" John barked out, stepping up to the door his hand on the handle before the idea occurred to him that he might not want to talk to whoever was on the other side.

What if it was Saxon?

Had he told him where he was staying?

Fuck yes he had…it had seemed harmless at the time just a little small talk about possible follow up conversations. John hadn't intended to stay more than tonight so what could be the harm. Yet what if Saxon had decided to continue their conversation after all?

Leaning down to press his eye against the spy hole John started back in surprise when he caught sight of who was really there. Of all the people…how could she have found him?

Could he see her? Was he ready to see her now, when John still didn't have the answers he had left her to find.

John turned and caught his wild half naked appearance, the hair that was too long, the scruff that he hadn't bothered to shave off…the tremble to his hands as they tried to smooth back his hair into some sort of order. His stomach churned, in a few seconds whatever composure he had found in the shower was shot and John almost found himself wishing it was Harold Saxon, at least he would know what to say to him.

"John I know you're there…I can see the shadow under the door." Missy's voice echoed through the door. "I didn't come here to fight. Please just let me in."

Turning the handle he opened the door to Missy, not open wide, not welcoming her in, not yet…John felt off balanced as he fell into that icy blue gaze of hers , tightening his hands on his towel and the door handle just so he wouldn't give into the automatic urge to reach out to her.

"What are you doing here Missy?"

It wasn't the happy greeting that Missy had been hoping for and yet it wasn't the worst scenario that had run through her head on her trip up here.

John was hiding, he was clutching the door like a lifeline, and Missy forced herself not to get distracted by his barely clad appearance…yet there was only so much of John's bare wet chest she could ignore. Still tracing that damn water droplet with her tongue would probably be a step too far at this point.

"I came to see you, to talk. Can I come in?" Missy repeated, they couldn't have the type of conversation Missy needed half in the corridor and she needed to get John away from the safety net of the door; once she was inside it would be far harder for him to shut her out, either emotionally or literally.

"I'm not dressed." John retorted, even to his own ears it was a pathetic sounding protest.

Missy had seem him stake bollock naked on numerous occasions, a towel was hardly going to shock her yet perhaps it was the vulnerability of being so exposed whilst she was fully clothed…or perhaps it was this perverse craving he needed to squash, to feel her hands against his skin once more. To forget all those reasons that had caused John to force a separation and simply hold her in his arms…

"Then let me in and go get dressed…I can wait in the bathroom." Missy suggested, despite her confident exterior she couldn't hide the slight tremor in her voice at John's continued rejection.

Although Missy might have prepared for the worst it still hurt, like a knife twisting in her stomach, when the man she loved looked at her with such suspicion and didn't even seem remotely pleased to see her.

"I…" It was a reasonable suggestion and yet John couldn't risk letting her inside his hotel room, all it would take was a stray touch to his chest, a kiss that he couldn't pull away from and John knew talking would be the last thing they would do. And they did need to talk. Christ he had so much he had to explain and if Missy stormed away from him after he confessed just what he had been up to…well John could hardly follow her in a towel.

"Why don't you go down to the bar, order us both a drink and I will join you in a few minutes." John countered, trying not to react to the way Missy's expression fell, he didn't want to hurt her feelings, hell he had left just so he could avoid doing that…or at least to avoid having to witness hurting them.

If he was truly being honest John knew that was closer to the truth, he had run because he didn't know what do and he couldn't bear having to watch Missy suffer whilst he kept her at arm's length. He was a coward, and now he had to face up to it, and John was certain a stiff drink could only help matters. God knows he had some difficult things to talk about and he had no idea how Missy was going to react when he told her about meeting her mother and Harry, the safety net of other people might just save his neck.

"Ok…Just promise you won't do a runner out of the back door." Missy joked gravely, her gaze suddenly avoiding John's, as she tried to hide just how much his coldness was hurting her.

"I won't…besides there isn't a back door." John insisted, reaching for Missy as she turned to leave, his fingertips barely brushing her blouse as Missy moved away, yet she didn't pause and she didn't look back at him either, instead striding down the corridor like she was the one running from him.

Closing the door John rested his forehead against it; curling his hand into a fist he hit the door.

"Fuck….Fuck…Fuck." John repeated banging his head in a rhythm with his cursing.

Well that could have gone better.

-/-

It took John ten minutes. In that time he had managed to tame his hair a little, to shave off the scruff and reject two outfits before finally settling on the smartest outfit he had brought with him and one that he had little cause to wear. The blue grey jacket offset his eyes and made his hair seem more silver and less dull, the black shirt was clean and the wrinkles were less visible than on his white shirt. Black jeans and some smart dress shoes completed his outfit, and John even remembered to splash on a little aftershave as well.

Now at least Missy wouldn't object to be seen in public with him.

Reaching the bar John was relieved to spot Missy sitting in one of the booth seats, her gaze was focused on the table, her hands wrapped around her tall glass of something, whilst a glass of whiskey sat off to the side. Sinking into the booth beside her, Missy was startled by his silent arrival and John was able to press a kiss to cheek and pull back again before she could really react.

Reaching for his drink John took a small sip, savouring the smoky taste; trust Missy to get him the good stuff.

"You look nice." Missy offered by way to break the silence.

"Yes well I can't have you showing me up…People would be wondering what you were doing drinking with a tramp if I had turned up in my hoody and with all that scruff." John tried for a joke, rubbing his hand over his newly shorn chin.

"I thought you knew me well enough to know I don't give two fucks what other people think." Missy snorted, leaning back against the booth for support as the events of the day all seemed to pile up on her. All the stress and all the travelling and she still had this conversation to get through, it was enough to bring tears to her eyes, and Missy laid a hand across her forehead as she forced herself to hold it together.

"Hey…Missy…Marsaili…" John offered as he took a moment to really look at her.

Perhaps it was the grey colour Missy was wearing but her face looked drained, her cheekbones stark even without a blush to emphasis them and the hand that hid her eyes from him trembled slightly. His heart hurt just looking at her, this was not his Marsaili, was this what his disappearing act had caused?

"Here have some of this." John offered her his whiskey, waving the strong smelling liquor under her nose, surprised when she actually seemed to baulk and bodily push the glass away so violently that the contents sloshed against the sides.

Swallowing down the gagging reflex Missy reached for her own tonic water and took a long drag; even so it was a few minutes before her stomach settled properly. "Sorry..."

"Don't apologise. I didn't…I shouldn't…"

"If I don't need to apologise then you don't either." Missy insisted, before chuckling darkly. "Look at us, so polite all of a sudden for two people who once upon a time couldn't keep their hands off each other."

"If you think it easy to sit here and not touch you then you are wrong about that." John replied honestly, and that earnt him some direct eye contact, Missy's gaze was misted but at least she was looking at him.

"Me too." Missy confessed, her hand inching across the table, the first move and an offer that she hoped John wouldn't reject.

How could he say no? John's free hand crept over the table top and covered Missy's delicate hand with his own, long fingers creeping around to wrap her hand up carefully, like he was holding something liable to break apart under his touch.

Something that was wound tight in Missy's chest uncoiled slightly and for the first time in weeks she was able to breathe deeply. Yet as soon as that pressure eased, it was like it had shifted and Missy was blinking back tears.

"Oh fuck…just…fuck…" She snivelled, reaching up to try and brush the damn tears off of her cheeks before her mascara found its way down her face. "I'm sorry…I'm just a fucking mess…just ignore me for a minute…it'll go off in a minute." Missy babbled only stopping when a handkerchief was being pressed to her cheeks and John wiped away the residue.

"I guess you needed that." John said softly as he tucked the tear stained handkerchief back in his jacket pocket.

"Yeah…I guess…" Missy trailed off, her relief of a few moments earlier was swamped by a sense of embarrassment and then mounting frustration. It was like being on an emotional seesaw and Missy was sick of it. She had come all this way to speak to John and now she couldn't even hold a conversation like an adult.

Normally Missy was the one who got them talking, she was the professional and the one that normally had ways to coax him to open up. Yet now the shoe was on the other foot and Missy was the one retreating into herself John wasn't sure what to do about it…well other than to confront it head on…

"So you said you needed to talk…"

Nodding Missy took a moment to try and gather her thoughts. There was just so much to tell John about and to be honest she wasn't sure now if she could even remember her game plan let alone carry it out.

"Would it be easier if we talked about something else first?" John suggested when Missy still remained silent and clearly struggling. "I could talk about how my editing is going or…"

"The police came to my flat about the Clara thing." There it was out. Missy hadn't meant to interrupt John but working up to it had never worked for her and she just had to say it, and once one secret was off her chest she could breathe a little easier and the next one just flowed out as well.

"And I've been ill for weeks; I was even before you left. The doctor is doing tests, I can call for the preliminary results tomorrow…I just couldn't be on my own…I needed some kind of support…I needed you. So I went to Douglas's office to find out how to find you…then I fainted and he thinks I'm pregnant that we're pregnant that's why he told me so don't get mad at him…"

"Woah…" It was like trying to calm a bolting horse. John had barely had time to react to the first thing before the next was like a sucker punch knowing the wind right out of him.

"So I'm sorry if you don't want to see me, or have realised you don't love me any more…" Missy carried on oblivious to John's growing horror, not even recognising the words coming out of her own mouth. "But you owe me that at least surely? I mean after all the shit of yours I put up with; you could at least hold my hand whilst some fucking Doctor destroys my life…or perhaps when the police do because that one's completely up to you."

"Missy stop love just please stop." John insisted his hand tightening around hers, causing Missy to thankfully fall quiet again, her slowly rising voice had started to attract the attention of their fellow patrons in that, we're watching but we don't want to be obvious about it way.

John reached for his whiskey and finished it in one go. It was tempting to order another but that would involve letting Missy's hand go, which at the moment John felt was the only tether keeping either of them steady; or asking the waiter to come over, and John didn't want that intrusion either. There was just so much to take in, the police coming to talk to Missy about her threatening behaviour to Clara and John had no idea how that would be in his hands; or that Missy was ill enough to finally go to the Doctor and that it was serious enough to warrant tests of some kind; or that she honestly thought he didn't love her or would want to be there to support her through this without feeling obliged to do so.

Yet why shouldn't she feel like that?

John had already proven his propensity to run and hide when things got tough, he had turned inward when he had been caught cheating and broke off his relationship with Clara, abandoning Missy for days without any contact whatsoever. When they had fought during the early days of their relationship he had retreated into his study and hid in his own imaginary world with his book. Then when things really got difficult John had run all the way to Scotland.

So by Missy's reckoning these new revelations should have him booking a one way ticket to colonise Mars or something?

It was difficult to find the words but as Missy tried to pull her hand free from under his own John knew he had to do something…say something…anything to make her realise that the reason he had run, was not because he had felt nothing for her and was just looking for an easy exit, but because he felt so much for her that he was desperate to find a solution that meant he could still have it all.

Or perhaps it had taken coming all this way to realise that everyone fucked up from time to time and considering his own duplicitous behaviour what right had he to judge?

"Never think that I don't love you…don't you dare ever say that again or even think it!" John's voice was so deep and his throat so choked with emotion that his words came out in a growl.

"Secondly I will be there tomorrow when you call the doctors, I will be there for every appointment or call or whatever is needed." John added, this time softening his voice a little when Missy lifted her gaze to meet his, her blue eyes still so uncertain that it killed him.

"Every single one no matter what!" John repeated as his previous emotionally overwhelmed state settled down to one of agitation and fear. Missy's mother Mary had had cancer, and cancer could be hereditary, suddenly his fear over Missy being pregnant seemed such a stupid one.

"But…"

"No buts. Whatever it is we'll face it together I promise. And we'll get the best doctors the best care."

It was everything Missy could have hoped for, John was here, he was telling her he loved her and that he would stand by her through everything and suddenly Missy felt such a fraud. Here John was working himself up into a state probably thinking she was dying when Missy was convinced it was probably some lingering virus. It felt duplicitous like she had played an ace she had hid up her sleeve to win the game, and even if the prize was everything she could have wanted Missy didn't want to win it like this…it wouldn't be real and she'd have to face that every day, what if today was the day he found out the truth…

"No…You don't have to do this just because I might be sick…I was being selfish." Missy muttered dragging her gaze away from John's she just couldn't look at him and say this; couldn't see the way that loved died in his eyes, and his disgust for her returned.

"I was just panicking…I overreacted…I…look the tests weren't the real reason I came here. I lied to the police, I told them I didn't go anywhere near Clara that she just have imagined the whole. I said you would be able to confirm that I never left your side…I lied…I panicked and I lied and I came here to ask you to lie for me…but I can't…I won't…" Missy stopped, shaking her head, her heart dying in her chest as John's hand suddenly withdrew and she was cast adrift once more, hating and cursing her own self sabotaging instincts.

She deserved this; she didn't deserve him, just like she hadn't deserved Theo either. Harry had been right all these years. She was rotten and dark and twisted just like him and there was no use pretending or trying to be good, it would never stick. No matter how far she ran, no matter how many people she helped, no matter how badly she wanted it, Missy would always destroy anything good and pure in her life because that was what she deserved.

For one moment everything had been golden but she didn't deserve gold, she tarnished it and Missy couldn't do that to John, she couldn't risk hurting him the way she had Theo, or her baby…

John Smith was angry, angry with Missy for manipulating him, always so clever even she didn't even seem to have a game plan. John was angry that he still couldn't decide if that reluctant outburst earlier was real or just some wonderful acting. He was angry at himself bringing this whole Clara Missy triangle into being in the first place. He was furious that having finally found some sort of resolution in his own mind, a way to excuse or at least chose to ignore Missy's behaviour in order that he could stay by her side, that Missy had managed to find a new way to undermine it.

It was infuriating, to almost have his Marsaili back, and then suddenly to have that stupid dream wrenched away again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I don't know." Missy confessed her voice small and so tired. "I thought it wouldn't matter as long as I got you back, anything it took. But we'd be building on quicksand. You can't build trust with lies, and I won't have you stay with me out of obligation or because you feel sorry for me."

"If that is what you really think I would be doing then we have more serious problems than your lying." John spat back, unable to keep his anger from his voice. "You are the most infuriating woman…no person I have ever met! Do you actually enjoy playing games with my feelings? Is that it, because I can't think of any other reason a rational person…"

"Well who said I was fucking rational?" Missy hissed, blue eyes flashing dangerously at John's accusation. "If you think I am enjoying a second of this then you are wrong. Do you think I like fucking up any good thing that I have in my life, or that perhaps I'm a masochist and actually enjoying having my heart broken over and over again?"

"I don't know!" John snapped. "Perhaps that is the only rational explanation."

The urge to slap him burned quick and hot through her, Missy clenched her fists to avoid giving into the feeling, that or throwing the rest of her tonic water into his self-righteous face. Yet as Missy glared up at John as he glared down at her she felt them peak and then quickly ebb away. Underneath that anger he was hurt…she had hurt him again because of her manipulation of his feelings and his character, no matter how subconscious it might have been on her part.

"What are we doing?"

It was a rhetorical question, they both knew it and yet John felt compelled to try and answer her.

"We're stuck going round and round in circles. Having the same arguments over and over again." John suggested, because they were, for such smart people they were certainly stupid not to have seen the obvious patterns in their behaviour.

"Is that you're way of saying you want to get off the roundabout? That you want to call it quits…for good this time?" It took everything she had to say it, Missy dreaded the answer, because John was right they were stuck in the same god damn loop, and the only way she could realistically see it ending was if John finally called time.

"Yes I want to get off the roundabout…I'm so tired Missy…tired of being hurt and tired of being angry with you…"

"Ok." The admission cost her everything, and it was only by wrapping the shattered remains of her dignity around her that Missy managed to get to her feet without bursting into tears, she could manage that behind closed doors in her hotel room.

Watching as Missy stood, her shattered expression telling John that although she had heard him she hadn't really understood him. Standing up John caught her arm before Missy could leave.

"I want us both to get off the roundabout Missy, I want to find a way to get on with my life, but I want to try to get on with my life with you in it. I want you to trust me, and I want to trust you back. I don't know how but I want to try…I won't give up on us yet if you won't."

Pressing her hand against John's chest, feeling the solid weight and warmth of him against her palm, Missy now really couldn't find any of the words she was normally so clever with. "Ok."

In a movie this would be the moment he kissed her, with Missy staring up at him, those blue eyes of hers so full of everything that there weren't words for, and his own heart beating out a rapid beat under Missy's palm.

But this wasn't a movie and a kissing would merely being a sticking plaster when what they needed was good solid, dependable stiches to mend this wound. God knows it was going to take time to heal and would leave an ugly scar, but scars could be useful reminders. Reminders not to take things for granted, or that they had been strong enough to survive something terrible once and so when the next challenge came they had the strength to overcome it, and John knew that there would always be a next challenge.

-/-