"Maybe if we give it fresh eyes in the morning," Martha said, weary. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking against the stinging. It was nearly midnight.

"You're right. Did Ifan find you something at St. David's?" Miranda asked. "Or are you staying with us in the staterooms?"

Martha shook her head. "I'm staying with Gwen."

"She went home hours ago," Miranda pointed out.

"I know. I have a key," Martha said. She dropped the sample she was examining back into the special biohazard slide box and took off her gloves. "By the way, Mickey and I wanted to thank you for the gift. You didn't have to do that Miranda. It was too much."

"Nonsense, Martha. It was the least I could do since I ruined your honeymoon with that alien parasite," Miranda said, smiling. "We're all sorry we couldn't make it. The pictures looked lovely. Did that Doctor of yours show up?"

"The Doctor has better things to do than show up at my wedding," Martha said, smiling. She crossed over to the sink and started washing her hands. "So what's with you and that American bloke?"

"Just dabbling," Miranda said, nonchalantly.

"Oh? And how is his dabbling?" Martha asked, a broad smile on her face. "Not quite as avant-garde as Jack's is it?"

Miranda smiled. "Sometimes that's a good thing, Martha. Jack can be… a bit much."

Martha's laugh turned into a stifled yawn. "Ianto'd probably have something to say about that. First thing tomorrow, yeah? Seven okay?"

Miranda nodded in agreement and started to clean their work area. Martha started to help her but Miranda waved her off.

"Leave it, Martha. I've got it. Sleep well."

Martha would have argued normally but she was completely knackered. She gave Miranda a friendly pat on the shoulder and started to head out. "See you tomorrow."

Just as she was leaving the autopsy bay, Donovan was walking in. "Night, Martha."

"Night, Ethan."

Miranda continued with her chore, not looking up.

Donovan walked down the steps slowly. "Permission to approach?"

"Granted," she said, not turning around.

"I wanted to apologise for what I said earlier," Donovan said, softly. His hands were in his pockets and he was rubbing the point of his shoe at a spec on the tile. "It was a really low blow and a shit thing for me to say."

"Yes, it was," Miranda said, finally turning around. "There are difficult decisions to be made here at Torchwood, Ethan. We are not a law enforcement agency. There is a larger picture here that must be considered. What we deal with at Torchwood is not protecting the innocent nor is it human rights or justice. We fight for the human race. We fight to survive and if there is one thing I understand - it's that the path to survival is not always pure and noble."

Donovan suspected Miranda had seen people do a myriad of cheap and dirty things to survive in her long life. He brushed her hair off her shoulder. His hand settled on her neck, his thumb rubbing her throat. "I know if there was another way, you'd find it."

She didn't say anything. She covered his hand with hers and gave him a weak smile and then turned around so she could shut down her workstation. Without turning around again or even looking up, she asked, "Do you wish to stay in your own room tonight, Ethan?"

If Donovan didn't know any better, he would have sworn Miranda's voice was a bit shy. He came up behind her. After brushing her hair away from her neck, he put his arms around her waist. He kissed her shoulder.

"I'd rather not spend tonight alone, if that's okay with you," Donovan said, brushing his lips against her neck. He took it as a good sign that she didn't push him away.

"Give me a few more moments here. I need to secure these," she said, waving at the samples. Donovan gave her neck one last kiss and then stepped away from her. He leaned against the autopsy table.

"Miranda? Can I ask you something?"

"I believe you just did, Ethan," she said, again not looking up from her chore.

He rolled his eyes a bit. "What is it we're doing here?"

"Hmm?" she asked, finally turning.

"You and me. What's going on here?" he asked, waving between them.

"We're going downstairs to bed," she said, flatly.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. These literal responses must be some sort of avoidance technique with her. It had been adorable the first time, laying in bed with her, but now it irritated him a bit.

"Miranda…"

She turned, shaking her head and started securing the samples in their containers roughly. She snapped, "What is it with you modern humans, always needing to define something? Nothing is comfortable for you unless it has a neat little label slapped on it-"

"Un-fucking-necessary, Miranda," Donovan angrily interrupted. "For the record? What we're calling this fling of ours doesn't matter to me but it seems to matter to everyone else. So how about you lay the fuck off me!"

She whirled around. "If Jack has-"

He held up his hand to stop what he could feel was the start of a tirade and said, "It's not Jack." …Yet… "Joe saw us earlier and warned me off. We were out on a rift call and Ianto had to say his piece. I'm sure Gwen and Jack are next. I don't need you to protect me from them. I'm a big boy and I can make my own decisions about who I'm sleeping with whether your friends approve or not. I had a great time last night, Miranda. You're a beautiful, sexy woman and I'd really like to keep seeing you while I'm here but I need to know why they all think that what we got going on is going to break your heart because that is the last fucking thing I want to do."

She didn't answer him, just planted her hands on her desk and hunched a bit over the closed sample boxes.

"Tell me about the girlfriend," Donovan said, simply.

"There's nothing to tell," she said, flatly.

Donovan tilted his head and gave her a skeptical look. What followed was a small battle of wills. The chill in Miranda's stare made the hairs on his neck stand up a bit but he held her gaze, softening his own face. And that was when he caught a glimpse of the same woman who'd spoken of a long dead son. The vulnerability reappeared on her face and just like before, it was foreign and unnatural.

Miranda said, wistfully, "I took a chance. I fell in love and I told her the truth because that was what an exceptional woman like her deserved. We tried but, in the end, what I am was too much for her. She asked me to leave so I did. I loved her enough to walk away."

"You're still in love with her."

"I will always love her," Miranda said, finally looking at him. She sighed, waving between them exactly had Donovan had a moment ago. "This is precisely what you described, a fling. We are two consenting adults, finding physical enjoyment in each other, nothing more."

"That's what I thought," Donovan said, taking a step towards her. "At least now I can tell everyone we're on the same page when they corner me about you."

Miranda made an impatient noise. "It is none of their concern whom I welcome into my bed."

"That's what I said." Donovan walked over to her and put his hands on her waist. "We're good right, babe?"

She nodded and then turned back to her work. She picked up the sample containers and secured them in the autopsy bay's small fridge.

He'd spoken the endearment without thinking. Worried he'd overstepped, he said, "Sorry that just sorta slipped out."

"I don't mind, Ethan," Miranda said, not looking up.

He scrunched his brow, remembering what Ianto had called Jack earlier. He asked, "What does cariad mean?"

"Cariad," Miranda said, correcting his pronunciation. "It's a Welsh term of endearment."

"I heard Ianto say it," Donovan mentioned.

"I'd prefer you not attempt anymore Welsh," Miranda teased.

With a small smile on her face, she walked over to him, settling her arms around his neck. He laughed and hooked his finger into Miranda's shirt collar, exposing more skin so he could kiss her shoulder.

"Ethan…"

"Hmmm?" he asked, pushing her back towards her desk. No one was in the Hub. Well, Jack and Ianto were but they'd gone to bed ages ago. Likely they had the main Hub to themselves. It was a very sturdy desk…

"As we've both acknowledged this is a fling and just a bit of fun, I know you won't take what I'm about to say the wrong way," she said, pressing herself back into him. "I know you've settled into the staterooms but it's rather inconvenient for you to continue dashing up and down the stairs for your things. The dresser at the end of the bed is empty…"

Donovan grinned.

"Sounds like a plan. Give me a little while to get my stuff together," he said, leaning in to kiss her. When he broke the kiss, he straightened and smiled.

Miranda gave him a wicked grin, tracing her fingers along his jaw as she walked away from him. There was vintage corset in her closet that would make that jaw of his drop. She was certain she could get it laced properly on her own.

Seductively, she said, "I'll be waiting for you, Ethan…"