I'm feeling a little blocked with Newcomers, so here's a little bit of an accompanying/sequel piece. I am coming to the end of Newcomers, but I'm going to wait until I have more time on my hands to try to fight through writer's block. :) Lizzie will be in this, so if you haven't read that story, best to! Please review.

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They said that no two pregnancies would ever be the same, and that statement was something that Louisa Ellingham certainly vouched for. Asides from vomiting in her first six weeks with James, and persistent nausea, with occasional heartburn. It hadn't been too awful a pregnancy. Not physically. The emotional struggles at being mostly alone, and on uneven grounds with Martin had made it difficult though.

For her second pregnancy? It felt like the situation had been entirely reversed. She had Martin, and James, and was happier than she had ever been, but carrying their second baby wasn't as easy as last time. Fatigue had been consistent throughout, and managing college, and James was proving to be difficult.

Martin was insistent that she reduce her workload, but after several sharp dagger glares from his wife, he had stopped insisting she practically pause with college. It was going well, she enjoyed it, and she still had a couple of months to go.

Yet, despite feeling rather swollen, and tired, and hungry almost all of the time, she was beyond excited to have another baby in the house. A daughter this time: Martin was convinced she would look like her mother, but the baby's persistent kicking, and stubborn refusal to stop reminded Louisa more of Martin.

Thirty weeks pregnant, and November had brought quite a cold snap to Portwenn. Winter in this village chilled you to the core, but she did find that it was more comfortable than carrying a baby in the sweltering summer. That hadn't been easy at all.

"Have you seen James's nursery bill?"

"No. Where did you have it last?"

It was a quiet evening, except for Martin rummaging through the place, attempting to find one piece of paper, while Louisa scrolled through her laptop. The house was a little messier than usual lately: they were having contractors in on the weekends, converting the box room upstairs into a bedroom for their second baby. That had been done, but they were still trying to tidy away all the things they'd been storing in there.

"Found it. Where is James?"

"Colouring in his room."

Their son was, to Louisa's relief, excited about the new baby. She had seen a lot of children get jealous of a younger sibling's arrival, but James could hardly wait. He had helped Louisa pick a nautical octopus and fishes mobile in the village, and was determined to colour a series of pictures to amuse the baby once she was born.

"No, no, out! You're not allowed in here."

Martin's voice was now coming from upstairs, and judging by the dejected way in which Buddy came scampering into the kitchen, he had been keeping James company while the boy did some colouring. It almost made her roll her eyes, before returning to her laptop. Ordering some baby essentials online: now they had a proper nursery space to work with, it was easy to start preparing.

Martin had prepared her a long, long list of essentials, too. Colour coded, multiple pages long, and he'd had the nerve to cross out some little things she'd added. No to a dummy, no to too many cot blankets. It didn't bother her too much, though: if he wanted to be involved, and keep their baby safe, he was more than welcome to. Her husband's support had made even the uncomfortable physical symptoms easy to manage.

"What are you doing?" He had come back downstairs, after checking that James was alright. Looking over his wife's shoulder for a moment.

"Just wondering if the baby will like blue bears, or the lilac."

"I doubt she'll care. No infant is born with the cognitive capacity to criticize her mother's choice of teddy bears."

Now that did make her roll her eyes. Adding one of each bear to her basket, watching Martin busy himself with beginning to gut fish for their dinner. It almost made her stomach flip: way more sensitive these days.

He knew that, of course: stepping to obscure her vision with his back, and quietly cutting up the trout. For that, she was grateful.

"Do you have your therapy this week?"

"No. Dr. Jhaveri is out of town."

It had been several months since Martin had started his therapy, and supervised practice, and things had been going wEll. Dr. Redferne was only visiting once a week, and it seemed that he had been spending significant time consulting with Elizabeth.

Ruth was of the opinion that their meetings were more about Sam and Elizabeth's personal life, but Martin had no idea. Ruth had been working with Jamal a lot lately, and though he disapproved of his aunt working again, at least she had more tolerable friends.

Going to wash his hands, gaze flickering over his shoulder to Louisa. She looked tired, in his opinion. Long hair was loose, and her chin rested against her hand, while she searched diligently for the perfect bedroom furniture for their little girl. Always the devoted mother.

Martin was a little nervous about the new baby: having a daughter would be an entirely new experience for them. Newborns were demanding, too, but he was ready to take on the challenge with Louisa. And very keen to meet their child.

"Do you think Bert will throw another ridiculous party for you?"

"Oh, Martin, it wasn't that bad. And if he does, you'll have to attend this time."

The idea made him grimace. While he was in favour of his wife having a good time, celebrating the upcoming arrival of a new baby, he was not in favour of spending that time with the village. They all seemed to be curious about the new baby: there were endless donations piling up in the nursery.

The only things they had really opened so far were gifts from Ruth: a few toys purchased in London. One of two things had been sent from Louisa's mother, which the both of them had disapproved of. Tonic recipes, and a suggestion that she might visit again. Jamal Jhaveri had sent a gift, too: a cashmere blanket. Martin didn't like it, it would be impossible to clean if the baby was sick, or spilt milk, but Louisa had been so delighted, he hadn't had the heart to return it.

Turning his gaze from her, somewhat reluctantly, and continuing to cut up the fish.

Pressing the knife into the last fre chunks of carrot, and dropping them in with the rest of the slowly seasoning meat.

It had been a busy couple of months for Elizabeth and Sam, too. One disastrous date had led to another, but after several dinners, and a weekend trip to London, the two were rekindling the relationship they'd shared together all those years ago. Jamal had semi retired, and was spending a couple of weeks over in India, leaving the house to Elizabeth, and Sam for their weekend.

"That smells amazing."

"You can't just try to distract me. I need to be romanced."

Elizabeth was no cook at all, so Sam had been working on a stew she'd enjoyed him making in college. The psychiatrist had sunk over to where he was standing, resting her hands playfully on his hips.

"We could have ordered food, you know."

"And then you would have spent the night worrying over the fat content of your Chinese food," Sam countered, turning a little in order to press a kiss to her temple. Elizabeth sank into his side, quite content to have him there. She felt good: happy, her heart warm. Life in Portwenn had been peaceful, but even with Sam' upcoming departure back to London, she felt hopeful. They could make it work. She wanted him to stay, but that wasn't her decision to make.

Three hours later, and after a rather exquisite dinner- or a standard one, Elizabeth was too happy to make a proper judgement- she was brushing out her hair, letting it fall loose to her hips in an ebony curtain. Wrapped in silk pyjamas bought from India, she was quite comfortable. beginning to braid her hair back, only to jump a little when she felt Sam's arms catch her around the waist.

"Jesus-"

"Just call me Sam.." Dark eyes sparkled with merriment, as he easily picked her up, shifting her into his arms. He was strong, and Elizabeth was built so delicately, she presented no challenge at all.

"I was thinking, we should plan your trip to see your Mum before we go home."

"We have to talk about that now?"

Like Elizabeth, Sam was half Indian, but the other way around. Her father was from Mumbai, her mother, Portwenn. His mother was from Kolkata, and father from London. The two had divorced, and his contact with her was little to none.

Carefully dropping Elizabeth on her bed, before flopping down next to her. His long black hair a tangled mess: she reached to push it back from his face, careful not to pull on it.

"We can talk about it later. We have a few days until we have to go home."

"Perfect."

Rolling her eyes as an arm came out to pull her close, she allowed herself to snuggle into him. Wearing black pyjama pants, but no shirt: his broad, muscular form was, admittedly, something Elizabeth had missed seeing. But overall, she had missed having the man she had loved most of all back in her life.

Tilting her head to allow him to place kisses to her neck, allowing him to ease her into a delightful couple of hours together.

Sam was delighted at having Elizabeth back in his life. Their weekend in London had been fun,, this evening especially. But as he lay next to her, stroking his fingertip over her arm, he couldn't help but think about what was coming up for him.

The GMC wouldn't have him in Portwenn for long. His job at St. Thomas's was due to start again soon, but he really wanted to stay. Truro wasn't unpleasant to work in, he enjoyed his time there. But would Lizzie panic if he said he wanted to stick around? She hadn't said she was sad about him leaving, he had no clue.

Running a hand up her caramel arm, tracing light circles in the palm of her hand. Raven hair was tangled around her, spilling over her back while she lay comfortably on her front. Soft light from the moon outside playing across her sharp jawline, black eyelashes fluttering a little as she slept. She was beautiful, kind, smart, he had loved her ever since they were teenagers in college. Why did his tongue tangle up whenever he tried to tell her that, though?

Settling on his back, smiling a little as she came to rest against his chest, snuggling into him. She smelt of lotuses, and violet blossoms, with just a hint of soap underneath. He liked that smell. He'd missed it.

Closing his eyes, and drifting off to sleep, the comfort of the woman he loved more than enough to chase away his worries.

Please review! And just as a reminder, Sam's faceclaim is Dev Patel, but I haven't chosen someone for Elizabeth yet. :)