This is a response to a question left in a review by guest user Audrey Nelson: (unless you've already figured it out) To post a story you first have to create an account. Then once you've logged in go under Publish on the sidebar then select About, there are some instructions there that show you how to upload a document and where things are located. Hope this answers your question, it was the only way I could reply to you since you're a guest user.

Chapter Six

The start of a new week left Martin in a foul mood. Morwenna had made an error in her appointment scheduling, and on top of that, forgot to pick up his supplies from Mrs. Tishell. In the meantime, he was called out on an emergency in the village, only to find that the patient had bruised her wrist.

"A complete waste of my time," he muttered to himself as he stalked down the main road. He saw Penhale down by the Platt with an ice cream cone in hand. The policeman waved and Martin took a quick turn down a side street to avoid him.

When he reached the pharmacy, there were three people in a queue in front of him. Mrs. Tishell looked up as he had entered and quickly finished helping the customers ahead of him. "Good afternoon, Doctor Ellingham!" she cheerfully greeted him.

Martin scowled, not in the mood to make small talk. "I need to pick up my supplies that Morwenna ordered."

"Yes, of course, Dr. Ellingham." She turned around and picked up a box that was waiting on the counter. "Here you are." She smiled at him, about to hand over the box but she recoiled. "Oh, Dr. Ellingham, I just wanted to let you know that Clive is doing wonderful with the exercises and dietary regulations you recommended." Martin reached forward to the take the box from her but she continued rattling on, "Just this morning we took a walk down by the Platt."

"How nice. Mrs. Tishell, my supplies please?" Martin reached for the box but she wouldn't let him have it just yet.

"Oh, it was such a beautiful morning. Did you see the sun rise?" She looked at him expectantly, nervously fiddling with the band of her wristwatch.

Martin frowned at her. "No. Mrs. Tishell, I didn't come here to chat about the sun rise or your husband's condition. I came because my stupid receptionist couldn't remember to do it herself. Now, may I have my supplies, please?"

Mrs. Tishell's smile faded and she handed over the box. "Uh, yes, Doctor. Shall I put it on your account?"

"Yes. Goodbye." Martin tucked the box under his arm and left the shop.

"Goodbye, Doctor Ellingham!" Mrs. Tishell shouted after him.

When Martin started his trek up Roscarrock Hill to the surgery, Buddy, the little white terrier, came into step beside him. "Oh, go away," Martin said to the dog. Buddy continued to follow Martin the rest of the way to the surgery. "Leave me alone!" Martin tried pushing the dog away with his foot once he reached the front door. Buddy jumped up and nipped at Martin's sleeve, causing him to drop his medical bag. "Oh, now look what you've done!" Martin shouted at the canine. "Go bother somebody else! That's it, go! Leave me alone!" He picked up his medical bag, gave Buddy one last shove with his foot, then stumbled through the surgery. "Idiot dog," he mumbled.

"What's that?" Morwenna asked as she looked up from her magazine.

"Put that away." Martin gestured to the magazine. "This isn't a library."

"Ok. It's just been a quiet afternoon around here, is all." Morwenna dropped the magazine in a desk drawer.

"And I'd appreciate it, if next time you could remember to pick up my supplies from Mrs. Tishell as they come in."

"Yes, sir, can do. I'll just write myself a note for next time."

"I did write you a note." He pointed to a sticky note on her desk that had previously been covered by the magazine.

"Oh, that note. Sorry, Doc." Morwenna looked up at him apologetically.

"I don't even know why I bother," he said under his breath as he made his way to the consulting room.

"It's just, I have a date with Al tonight. Been sort of anxious all day . . ." Morwenna watched him disappear and shrugged her shoulders. She reached into the desk drawer and pulled out her magazine, flipping back to where she left off.

Martin was busy putting away the medical supplies he'd ordered when he heard the loud cry of his son echo from the kitchen. He dropped the package of syringes and rushed out of the consulting room.

"What's happened?" Martin asked as he appeared in the kitchen.

Janice looked up at him as she tried consoling an unhappy James. "He tried standing up next to his playpen but fell. I think he might have bumped his head on his toy fire engine." She rubbed the back of James' head as he continued to cry.

"Move! Give him to me!" Martin bent down and picked up James, tucking him into the crook of his right arm. He turned and headed back to his consulting room.

"James," Martin addressed his son as he closed the door, "you're going to be just fine." He laid him down on the exam couch and James furiously kicked his legs in disagreement. "Shh, shh." Martin ran his fingers over his head of blonde hair, searching for any bumps or lesions. "Does it hurt here?" he asked in his strict, medical tone of voice as he placed his fingers over a spot just above his forehead. James let out another wail and Martin picked him up. He softened his voice and started pacing around the room. "It's okay, James. No bumps or lesions, a bit tender, but it'll heal fast."

A few minutes passed and James' screams subsided into soft whimpers. His face was flushed and wet with tears, so Martin wiped his nose and cheeks clean with a paper towel. "There, there," he tried soothing. "What were you thinking standing up on your own, James? Hmm?" James turned and buried his face in Martin's neck, shielding himself. "I suppose you just thought you were ready, was that it?" He rubbed his boy's back in a soothing manner as he continued his walk around the consulting room. "Or maybe you just wanted to show off for Jane." Martin grinned a little as he looked down at James, now calm and breathing evenly.

The door opened and Morwenna stood in the entryway. "No! Get out!" Martin waved a finger at her and James stirred in his arms at the sound of his raised voice.

"I was just wonderin' if everything was alright?"

"Yes, we're fine. Morwenna!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "What have I told you about knocking?"

"I know, but Doc your next patient . . . It's an emergency."

"Oh, really? What is it this time?"

"Head trauma. Looks pretty grisly."

The patient in question stepped out behind Morwenna holding a bloodied towel to his head. Martin grimaced at the sight and could feel the nausea coming on. "Yes, come through." Martin handed James to Morwenna. "Could you leave him with Jane please?"

"Janice - her name's Janice," Morwenna said shaking her head.

"Whatever. Uh, you," he pointed to the patient, "take a seat on the exam couch." The patient walked by him, giving Martin a close view of the red-stained towel. "Oh, God." His face turned pale as he fought the urge to vomit all over the floor. The door of the consulting room closed once more and Martin reluctantly turned his full attention to his hemorrhaging patient.

Later that evening, Martin was at his desk writing notes for his last patient when Louisa came in with James in her arms. "Martin! Janice told me James fell and bumped his head. What happened?"

Martin looked up at her. "Uh, yes, he did. He tried to stand up on his own and lost his balance. He's fine. There's a tender spot just above his forehead. Nothing to worry about."

"But, Martin, I worry." Louisa hugged James close to her.

"Yes, I understand that you do." He looked away from her and continued writing, trying not to lose his train of thought.

"Um, how was your day?" she asked him after a moment of silence.

Martin made one last scribble then slipped the patient's notes into its corresponding sleeve. He let out a weary sigh. "I've had better."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

He stood up and stepped closer to her. "Mm, it's over with now. I have you and James to myself for the rest of the day." He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek then let it rest on the crown of James' head.

Louisa looked down at James. "He will be okay, won't he? You're absolutely sure nothing is wrong?"

"Yes. Louisa, I conducted the examination myself. No visible bumps, just a tender spot by his hairline. He'll be good as new in a day or two."

Louisa let out the breath she'd been holding since Janice relayed the news. "Good." She rubbed James' back. "Were you planning on cooking dinner tonight, or shall I?"

"Um, how about we do it together?"

Louisa brightened at his suggestion. "Yes, that would be nice, Martin."

"Pollock? Or chicken, perhaps? Whatever you'd like."

Louisa thought for a moment. "I could go for some fish actually."

Martin almost smiled, knowing she thought he was obsessed with eating fish everyday. "Yes. Right."

Louisa leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I'll just get James' dinner first then we can get started."

"Yes." He watched her turn away with James before picking up the stack of patient notes on his desk.

When Martin entered the kitchen, James was seated in his high chair, making a mess with his puréed peas and carrots. Louisa was at the cooker, unaware of his presence. He stood and watched her for a moment, mesmerised by her beauty. His gaze traveled up her legs and lingered at her waist. He quietly moved around the table to surprise her, but unfortunately James ruined the moment.

"Da!" the young Ellingham squealed.

Louisa jumped at the unexpected sound and turned around to find Martin standing behind her. "Oh, Martin!" She laid a hand on her chest to calm her breathing.

Martin took a step back. "Mm, sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's alright. I just wasn't expecting you to be standing behind me."

"Da!" James squealed again, trying to get his father's attention. He reached out with hands smeared in peas and carrots and Martin frowned at the sight. He took a hand towel and wiped James clean then moved his bowl out of the boy's reach.

"Can you start preparing the fish?" Louisa asked him, turning from her work at cutting the vegetables.

"Yes."

They worked together, Martin periodically checking the marinated pollock as it broiled while refraining from making a derisive comment about Louisa's inability to clean as she moved from task to task. In the meantime, Louisa finished cooking the rice and set the vegetables steaming, aware of Martin's critical gaze as she flitted about the kitchen.

Dinner was quiet as they ate. Louisa decided that it was best not to get her husband worked up over small talk after the stressful day he had. She was able to feed James a few more spoonfuls of his peas and carrots until he decided he had had enough. Martin cleaned him up one last time and put him down in his playpen while he and Louisa did the washing up.

Louisa washed and rinsed the dishes while Martin dried and put them away. He was standing to her left by the dishwasher, when she stopped, resting her soapy hands on the edge of the countertop, and gazed out the window. Martin looked down at her left hand, her silver wedding band staring back at him. He set down the pot he was drying and rested his hand next to her much smaller one. He smiled to himself as he thought back to their taxi ride after having saved Peter Cronk's life. He slowly moved his hand closer to her's, and Louisa glanced down from the corner of her eye, a smile forming as she seemed to remember the events of that day as well.

When Martin's fingers made contact with her's, Louisa turned and took his face in her hands, firmly placing her lips against his. Their kiss quickly turned passionate, just as it had in that taxi, and Martin wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, pulling her to him as close as possible.

Louisa pulled away, breathing heavy, "Martin . . ."

"Louisa . . ." His voice was gruff as his mind clouded over with thoughts of his beautiful wife. He leaned down and took her mouth in another deep kiss.

When they parted, Louisa stifled a laugh and asked him, "Is my breath okay?"

He was quiet for a moment, contemplating an appropriate answer. "Tastes of pollock and cauliflower." He grinned and tightened his arms around her waist. "But it doesn't matter because I love you very much, Louisa."

Louisa smiled at him from ear to ear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Oh, Martin. I love you, too; I do - so very much."

Martin closed his eyes at her words. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have her. She was the most important woman in his life (apart from Ruth of course) and he was happy that she chose to spend her life with him.

"Maybe once James is asleep we can retire to bed a little early tonight?" Louisa silkily whispered in his ear.

Martin pulled back from their embrace to gaze into her eyes. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Good." She tossed a dish towel at him. "Now back to work, Dr. Ellingham."

Martin smiled at her. "Yes, Mrs. Ellingham."

Author's Note: Have a wonderful Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone out there around the world. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story and giving me feedback! This is not the end! There is still more to come for Martin and Louisa and the rest of the Doc Martin gang, so stick around!