Chapter Ten: Human Nature Part One
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or Doctor Who.
The central console of the TARDIS was sparking like mad which was never a good sign. The Doctor, Shawn, and Gus picked themselves up from the floor.
"Did they see you two?" the Doctor asked urgently.
"Probably," Gus replied. "They were shooting at us, after all."
"Yes, but did they see your faces?" the Doctor demanded.
Shawn laughed. "Doctor, they didn't even see your face because of these masks. And you said going to a lucha libre match was a bad idea."
"Just because we happened to get chased back to the TARDIS by people who probably won't be able to identify us now doesn't mean that you were being inspired or anything," Gus insisted. "It's a complete and utter coincidence."
"Be in denial if you must," Shawn sniffed.
The Doctor ran to the console and started pressing buttons. "That's even better than I'd hoped. Good thinking, Shawn. Off we go!"
"See?" Shawn asked smugly.
"Damn," the Doctor swore. "They're following us."
"But…the TARDIS can go anywhere at any time," Gus pointed out. "How can they manage to be following us?"
"Stolen technology, they've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator," the Doctor said grimly. "They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe…they're never going to stop."
"So what are we going to do?" Shawn demanded. "Keep running forever? Because that does not sound like the soundest of plans."
"No, that's too risky. Of course, everything's risky so I can't think of a better plan. Unless...I'll have to do it..." the Doctor murmured. "Shawn, you trust me, don't you?"
Shawn shrugged. "Well, you haven't gotten us killed so far."
"And what about you, Gus?" the Doctor asked, turning to him.
Gus shook his head. "Nuh-uh. No way. I have been friends with Shawn for far too many years to fall for something like that. I am not agreeing to anything before I know what it is."
"That's probably a good policy," the Doctor admitted. "A little boring but smart."
"So what are you thinking?" Gus asked, his voice filled with trepidation. "What is 'it'?"
The Doctor dived below the console and reappeared moments later holding an ancient-looking pocket watch. "See this watch? I'm going to need you to be very careful with it because this watch is me. Well, not yet. It's going to be me."
"Be more cryptic," Shawn challenged.
"Those creatures are hunters," the Doctor explained. "They can sniff out anyone and because I'm the last of the Time Lords, I'm unique and I'll be even easier to spot. If they didn't have a vortex manipulator then we wouldn't need to worry but they do so we do."
"Well that sucks," Shawn declared bluntly.
Despite himself, the Doctor laughed. "Yes, Shawn, yes it does. Fortunately, between these masks and the fact they started shooting at us from a distance, they only know what I smell like, not what I look like."
"Well, you do have a pretty distinctive odor," Gus told him. "But how does that help us? Can you change your scent? Block their sense of smell?"
The Doctor started to shake his head, stopped, and nodded. "Sort of. You see, I'm going to need to change my scent but in a less superficial way than I could achieve by putting on cologne or something like that. The scent that these hunters are after and thus the scent I need to rid myself of is my Time Lord essence."
"That sounds hard," Shawn remarked. "Like really hard. Crazy hard. Even, if I may, impossible hard. You're a Time Lord so how can you not smell like one?"
"Normally it would be impossible," the Doctor agreed. "But I just happen to have a Chameleon Arch on board my TARDIS and I've always been curious so why not?"
"What's a Chameleon Arch?" Gus asked. "I mean, chameleon obviously so it's going to disguise you but how?"
"It's going to turn me human," the Doctor said excitedly.
"And then what?" Shawn asked, clearly expecting something more.
The Doctor shrugged. "And then we wait. You two will need to make sure that I don't get any of us killed, enter into any long-term commitments that would make leaving inconvenient, or lose the watch that's storing my essence."
"Wait for how long?" Gus asked suspiciously.
"Well, their life's bound to be running out or they wouldn't risk going up against a Time Lord," the Doctor reasoned.
"What?" Gus demanded, his eyes bulging. "You want us to wait with you as a human until the bad guys die of old age? Are you serious?"
"Deadly," the Doctor confirmed. "I don't think I'm being unreasonable here. I think I've actually come across their species before. They're not a long-living species and if all goes according to plan then we'll never really know when they're dead so I'd say waiting three months is a good bet. Three months isn't so bad, is it?"
"That really depends on where those three months are," Shawn spoke up. "Let me tell you, those last three months that I lived with my father…I've had whole years that have taken less time to pass."
"I'll have you know right now that I reserve the right to veto any place that I can't live with," Gus announced. "For instance, if we're going back to a time and place that even carries the possibility that someone might mistake me for one of you guy's slave then I'm going home right now."
"Of course we wouldn't expect that," the Doctor was quick to assure him. "I'm sure the TARDIS will take that into consideration when deciding, at random, where we're going."
"Why is the TARDIS deciding at random instead of letting us pick?" Shawn wanted to know. "We could go someplace nice. Oh, I know! You could come back to Santa Barbara with us for three months and just chill."
Behind the Doctor's back, Gus made frantic 'stop' motions as Shawn had inadvertently just reminded the Doctor of their home.
"There are several reasons for that," the Doctor told them. "First off, you may not have noticed this but the TARDIS does not always take me where I want to go."
Gus snorted. "We noticed."
"Like that time we tried to go to EuroDisney and ended up on a planet with cannibals and poison rain," Shawn reminded them.
"I still don't see why you'd want to go to EuroDisney anyway," Gus said, frowning. "I mean, it's…EuroDisney."
"I know," Shawn agreed. "But it's my goal in life to hit every theme park I come across."
"Aside from that, there's the fact that if these people find me then things might get violent and you'd be putting the people you know and love in harm's way," the Doctor continued.
"The people we spend time with tend to be cops," Shawn said, unconcerned. "Cops with guns."
"Some of them unhealthily attached to those guns," Gus added.
"And I'd be difficult to explain away," the Doctor insisted.
"Not really," Shawn disagreed. "People expect this kind of stuff from me by now."
"We'd probably be able to better protect you in our own world than in some random place the TARDIS is going to choose," Gus said sensibly.
The Doctor made a face. "See, everything you're saying makes a whole lot of sense and it's very kind of you to offer, it's just…do you have any idea how domestic that all sounds?"
Shawn snorted. "Please, Doctor. How long have you known me?"
The Doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, Shawn, but Gus' family lives there, too. I'm just not prepared to risk it."
"Hey," Gus protested half-heartedly, fully aware that this was true. "Well tell me this: if these hunters can follow us anywhere because they can time travel, too, and so you need to hide your essence until they die, what's to stop them from hopping to some point in the future or past in order to get to us?"
"Nothing, technically, which is why it's so important that they don't see our faces," the Doctor replied.
"Could you…elaborate?" Shawn requested.
"What? Oh, of course. The hunters can sense where I am at this exact moment. It doesn't matter if we're in 2007 and they're in 1873. They'd be able to tell where and when I am at this moment, despite the different times, and find me. If they knew where I'd be at some point in the future or past then they could lie in ambush but they don't and since they don't know who we are, they won't be able to. Sure they could skip ahead six months past the point where they should die but they won't find us as I'll be in human form. Does that make sense?" the Doctor asked.
Gus nodded. "I think so. It doesn't matter when and where they look because they'll only have three months of searching."
"Or as much as time travel ever makes sense," Shawn said. "I've learned to just go with it."
"So are we agreed to do this?" the Doctor asked them seriously. "Because it really is the only way but I can't do it without your complete cooperation."
"I'm game," Shawn said affably. "Well…as long as I can borrow your psychic paper for this. I mean, you obviously won't even remember it and we might need it because God knows you won't be able to bail us out if something happens."
" 'Something'?" the Doctor repeated suspiciously.
"Something," Shawn repeated unrepentantly. "You know how these things tend to go."
"I guess I'm okay with it, too," Gus said, sighing. "But why do we even need to hide? Is there no way of dealing with them that doesn't involve them dying of old age? Even if it won't take that long, it's the whole idea of it that's bothering me."
"We could kill them, I suppose," the Doctor conceded. "Or lock them up until they die. We could even keep them artificially alive. The problem is, though, that we don't know of any heinous crimes they've done that would make them deserve it."
"They're trying to kill you," Gus pointed out.
"And if I held a grudge every time that happened, I'd never get to go back to any place," the Doctor said matter-of-factly. "Besides, I can understand the temptation. I just want to give them a chance to live out the rest of their natural lives. Now, if I were you two I'd leave the room. This process is going to rewrite literally every cell in my body and it's going to be ugly and painful. Come back in about an hour and get me out of the TARDIS before human-me wakes up in here and freaks out."
Shawn and Gus elected to go swimming while they waited but it was a little difficult to properly enjoy themselves knowing what the Doctor was going through at that very moment and what they would soon be asked to go through.
Finally, a little over an hour later, they came back to the console and found the Doctor slumped on the ground with a strange device on his head which they removed and set off to the side somewhere. Gus felt for his heartbeat and discovered that he only had one heart.
"It looks like the Doctor's left us a message," Shawn noted, pointing towards a blinking red button. "Well, either that or there's something wrong with the TARDIS. Since the Doctor's human now, we'd be pretty much screwed so I vote for that first one."
"You can't just decide that which one it's going to be, Shawn," Gus told him.
Shawn shook his head defiantly. "Nonsense! I can if I use the power of positive thinking!" With that, he promptly slammed his hand down the button.
To both of their reliefs, the screen lit up with an image of the Doctor sitting in front of some sort of camera in that very room. "This working?" he asked, tapping the screen. "Shawn, Gus, before I change here's a list of instructions for when I'm human. One, don't let me hurt anyone. We can't have that, but you know what humans are like."
"Hey!" Shawn objected. "I find that speciest!"
"You really have to wonder why he wanted to know what it was like to be a human so badly if he's convinced that he's going to be some kind of thug," Gus said idly.
Shawn laughed. "I'm not quite sure that he's thug material…"
"Two, don't worry about the TARDIS, I'll put it on emergency power so they can't detect it, just let it hide away. Four- no, wait a minute, three," the Doctor corrected himself. "No getting involved in big historical events. I mean it. That's dangerous enough when I'm there and I'm just saying this out of concern for the time stream, not out of jealousy of any potential historical events I'd miss out on or wouldn't get to properly appreciate by being human."
"So humans can't properly appreciate historical events?" Gus asked indignantly.
Oblivious to Gus' outrage, the Doctor blithely continued. "Four- you. Don't let me abandon you."
"Why is he so worried that he's going to abandon us?" Shawn asked. "That's a little worrying."
"And five! Very important, five. Don't let me eat pears. I hate pears! John Smith is a character I made up but I won't note that. I'll think I am him and he might do something stupid like eat a pear. In three months I don't want to wake up from being human and taste that."
"He really doesn't like pears…" Gus said, shaking his head. "But really? He'll be able to taste it weeks later?"
"I don't think it's that strange," Shawn replied. "It kind of reminds me of my relationship with artichokes."
"You're just being dramatic," Gus accused.
"Says the guy who insists that he can smell burnt popcorn for two weeks after it happened," Shawn retorted.
"Six, don't let me get a haircut. This should almost go without saying since I know Shawn appreciates the importance of a good hairstyle but I want to make absolutely sure. Seven, try not to let me get grievously injured. I'll heal up the minute I return but who wants three months of memories of sitting in a hospital? Eight, if I'm about to die – in which case there had better be a damn good explanation – then open the watch. Hopefully enough time will have passed to make dealing with those hunters easier. Nine, don't hold anything I say against me. I'm going to be an average man with average values which aren't always the most enlightened," the Doctor continued.
"That's one way of putting it," Gus said wryly.
"Ten, guard that watch with your life. Remember, if anything happens to it then I won't be able to return and so you'll be stuck here for the rest of your lives since you can't fly the TARDIS. Eleven, don't let me enter into any long-term commitments. That always makes leaving so much more complicated than it has to be. Twelve, don't let me wear anything that you won't let me live down. Thirteen, I run across aliens a lot. If I happen to come across some as John Smith, don't let me get involved, I won't know what I'm doing. Fourteen, I really wasn't joking about those pears. In fact, don't even let me be in the same room with them just to be on the safe side. Fifteen, I did leave the psychic paper for you after all, Shawn, please don't make me regret this. Sixteen, the sonic screwdriver should stay in the TARDIS unless there's an emergency. I don't want anyone from the past getting their hands on something like that."
"Sweet!" Shawn cheered.
"You know this is only temporary, right?" Gus asked him.
"All I need is a foot in the door," Shawn claimed.
"Seventeen, don't let me become boring. If I appear to be in danger of becoming boring, force me to talk to Shawn. Eighteen, if I start to have dreams of my real life, assure me that they are only dreams and don't let me go telling everybody about them. Nineteen, when I wake up human I'm going to be confused and disoriented so you'll need to establish yourselves in my life quickly. I should retain enough residual awareness to let you in but if you don't want my mind to fill in who you are, talk quickly. Twenty, I know that we normally pretty much eschew the cultural norms of the places we visit but we're here to blend in so try to follow them the best you can. Twenty-one, no drawing my attention to the watch unless you want me to accidentally open it. Twenty-two, don't let me see the TARDIS. It might bring something back. And twenty three. If anything goes wrong, if they find us, then you know what to do. Open the watch."
"It just looks like an ordinary watch," Gus said dubiously, picking it up and examining it.
"Everything I am is kept safe in there," the Doctor disagreed. "Now, I've put a perception filter on it so the human me won't think anything of it, to him it's just a watch. But don't open it unless you have to. Because once it's open, then the Family will be able to find me. It's all down to you. Your choice. Oh, and- thank you."
"Well…I guess we should get the Doctor outside of the TARDIS so he won't wake up here," Shawn said. "Or rather, John Smith."
The pair picked the Doctor up and carried him outside of the TARDIS which was hidden in an old stone barn near some woods. Then they sat down to wait.
Fortunately, they didn't have long to wait as within a few minutes, the Doctor's eyes fluttered open. "What?" he murmured.
Shawn wasted no time asserting his role in the John's life. "Big brother! Are you okay?"
"Yes, I think so," John Smith said, sitting up. "What happened?"
Shawn frowned. "Oh, that's not a good sign. We were just walking and all of a sudden you collapsed. Maybe I'd better ask you some questions to make sure you didn't hit your head or anything. What year is this?"
"1913," John replied promptly.
"And we are going?" Shawn prompted.
"To Farringham School for Boys where I will be a professor of history," John answered.
"In England?" Shawn asked, unsurprised.
John nodded. "But of course. You will be teaching physical education."
"And what about Gus?" Shawn asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer.
"He's our long-time servant who we hope to find a place at the school since we won't be needing one," John replied.
Behind John's back, Gus started twitching.
Somehow or other, Shawn and – mostly – Gus had managed to survive two months of being trapped in 1913 although Shawn threatened to open the watch at least twice a day leaving Gus, who was having a far more miserable time, to convince him not to.
"This is ridiculous," Shawn complained as they headed to John's room. "Why do I have to be up at this unseemly hour?"
"Because you have class in an hour," Gus reminded him.
"So?" Shawn asked. "It's gym. The only reason they need me there is so they don't start wailing on that Latimer kid again. Can you believe that those boys can actually get permission from their teachers to do just that?"
"You don't let them, do you?" Gus asked worriedly.
Shawn waved his hand lazily. "Of course not!"
"Then why are you their favorite teacher?" Gus wanted to know.
Shawn snorted. "Please. They get to play dodge ball for an hour every day? What's not to like?"
Gus waited patiently.
"And…I may or may not have convinced them that I was psychic," Shawn admitted.
"Isn't that dangerous, Shawn? We are in 1913, after all," Gus reminded him. "I mean, it may be a little past the witch hunts but this still isn't a very tolerant time. They might think you're a gypsy or something and run you out of the school."
"That sounds like an excellent excu…I mean, opportunity to open the watch," Shawn said brightly.
Gus quietly opened the door to John's room and rolled the breakfast tray in, Shawn following right behind him.
"Pardon me, Mr. Smith, you're not dressed yet. I can come back later," Gus said once he saw that John was sitting up in bed, writing in a notebook.
"No, it's alright, it's alright. Put it down," John instructed, standing up and pulling on a dressing gown.
"Sweet!" Shawn cheered. "I'm starving." He promptly stole a piece of bacon and a biscuit from the Doctor's plate.
"Shawn," John chastised. "What have I told you about stealing my breakfast?"
"Not to," Shawn replied, taking a bite out of his pilfered goods. "Why?"
"Do you think that maybe you could actually listen to my request?" John asked pointedly.
"But I did listen!" Shawn protested innocently. "I even just repeated it back to you. I'm starting to think that maybe you're the one who isn't listening, John."
John rolled his eyes. "Do you think maybe you could actually adhere to my repeated request? You do this every day, Shawn."
"And yet you never learn," Shawn mused. "I'm sure I could."
"But you won't," John concluded.
"I think we might be making progress," Shawn said cheerfully. "Gus, do you think we're making progress?"
"I'm sure I don't know, Mr. Smith," Gus said stiffly. Unlike Shawn, he put a modicum of effort into fitting in in 1913.
"I just don't understand why you insist on this childish behavior," John complained. "You have your own breakfast delivered to your room every day and yet you insist on eating mine."
Shawn shrugged. "Yours tastes better. So what are you doing up? I didn't wake up until Gus here brought me my breakfast."
"So you've already eaten?" John asked, aghast. "I don't know why I bother being surprised anymore, I really don't. To answer your question, I had that dream again."
"Is it that dream where you're on the Titanic and you meet this really hot redhead who is trapped in a loveless engagement with this wealthy but unpleasant man so she and her mother can continue their upper-class existence?" Shawn asked.
"That's the plot of Titanic," Gus spoke up. "Sir."
Shawn tilted his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would my brother be dreaming about the Titanic?"
"I wouldn't," John replied. "But this dream is no less strange. I dream I'm this…Adventurer. This...daredevil, a madman. 'The Doctor', I'm called. And last night I dreamt that you two were there, as my... companions."
"What's so odd about that?" Shawn asked. "I mean, Gus and I were traveling with you to the school, after all. If you're going to be dreaming you're someone far more interesting than you are, why can't we be in the dream, too?"
"Yes, but I trusted Gus with more than I was willing to trust you with," John argued. He stopped. "Although if we're just talking from a purely responsible standpoint…That reminds me. You still have my watch."
"Your what?" Shawn asked blankly.
"The watch that father gave me when I graduated from university," John told him.
"But you never use it," Shawn protested. "And it looks ever so stylish with my hair!"
"But it's mine," John protested. "And it's very important to me."
"John, the minute we got here you put it on your mantel place and didn't touch it for a week. I swear that it was gathering dust," Shawn declared dramatically. "I borrowed it and it took you another five weeks to even notice!"
"Well I'd like it back soon, alright? I may not use it but I'm far less likely to lose it or get it destroyed," John said reasonably.
"You'll have it back within the month," Shawn promised. "And that's really the best I can do."
Gus gave Shawn a pointed look.
"Oh, right! So…do you dream of anyone named Rose?" Shawn asked casually.
John gave him a strange look. "How did you…have you been reading my Journal of Impossible Things?"
"I don't believe in the word 'impossible' so something like that sounds far too lacking in imagination for my tastes," Shawn claimed.
John laughed. "Little brother, these dreams are most certainly not lacking in imagination. They actually remind me a bit of you. They seem far more like something you'd enjoy than something that I would."
"So, about Rose?" Shawn asked, not about to be deterred.
John nodded. "I have been dreaming about her, actually. She has blonde hair, which is strange because her eyebrows were black. She has brown eyes and is very beautiful, very kind. She's smart and always so brave, even when she's afraid. I like her a great deal in my dreams which is why what happened is so sad."
"What did happen?" Shawn asked eagerly.
"There's this other world, you see. It's not another planet, it's this planet only things are different. People who are supposed to be dead are alive and vice versa. Just…things are different," John struggled to explain.
"A parallel universe," Gus surmised.
John nodded. "Yes, that's what it was called. Rose got trapped in a parallel universe and the Doctor is never going to see her again."
"That seriously sucks," Shawn told him. "I'm sorry."
John smiled quizzically at him. "Whatever for? It's not real."
Later that day, Gus was scrubbing floors with a maid named Jenny when John walked by.
"Good day, sir," Gus called out.
"Yes, hi," John said absentmindedly.
"That one always has his head in the clouds," Jenny noted. "I'm not sure he even really notices you're there."
"Maybe not," Gus conceded. "But at least he's very polite. Not everyone's that considerate, particularly considering…"
"You're American?" Jenny supplied.
"Why does the rest of the world hate us?" Gus wondered. "I mean, we mostly just ignore them."
"Maybe they don't like being ignored," Jenny suggested.
"Well it's not like things will get any better when we stop ignoring them," Gus remarked.
Two of the older boys walked by and stopped right in front of them.
"Ah, now then, you two," one of them said haughtily. "You're not paid to have fun, are you? Put a little backbone into it. Carry on your disgusting little love affair on your own time."
"You, there. What's your name again?" the other asked Gus.
"Frederick Douglass," Gus deadpanned.
"Tell me then, Douglass. With hands like those, how can you tell when something's clean?" he asked cruelly.
"Hutchinson, Baines, detention," Shawn said lazily, leaning over the staircase banister.
"But why, sir?" Baines demanded.
"Appalling lack of historical knowledge," Shawn replied. "Honestly, what is my brother teaching you? You can go now."
Grumbling, the two went on their way.
"What do you want, Shawn?" Gus demanded.
Jenny's eyes widened at that.
"I'm bored," Shawn complained. "Entertain me."
"I'm busy," Gus said firmly. "So unless you'd like to help…"
Shawn laughed. "Like hell."
"Why don't you go bother John?" Gus hinted.
"I would except he's apparently not up to flirting and walking at the same time and fell down a flight of stairs," Shawn explained. He shook his head in shame. "Sometimes, it's hard to believe that I'm really related to that man."
Gus rolled his eyes. "I wonder why that is…"
"Pardon me, sir, I know it's not really my place but I was wondering…if you're Mr. Smith's brother and he's British then why do you sound American?" Jenny spoke up.
Shawn shrugged. "I went on a trip to America a few years ago – actually where I met Gus – and fell in love with the accent. It makes me sound like I have a much better dental plan than an English accent would and that's very important."
Gus froze. "Wait…did you just say he fell down a flight of stairs?" He stood up and turned to Jenny. "I'm sorry but do you think you can finish without me? I've really got to see this."
With that, he ran upstairs.
Shawn watched him leave. "What's with him?"
"And I'm telling you, I know what I saw," Gus said stubbornly. "It was a bit repressed since this is 1913 and all but they were most definitely flirting. She was hinting about the dance and he clearly wanted to invite her but thank God John's shy about these things. He told her about the journal – he let her borrow it! – and he had a cute little moment with her where she proved he had two hearts."
"Well what do you want me to do about it?" Shawn demanded.
"I don't know! I just know that it's not 'my place' to do anything but as John's brother, Matron Redfern might actually listen to you," Gus told him, frustrated. "Why didn't the Doctor give us any instructions about him developing feelings for anyone? He warned us about the pears twice!"
"Well, he did tell us not to let him form any long-term commitments," Shawn pointed out. "But as for why not love specifically, I think it's because he himself is still hung up on Rose."
"And he didn't seem to really think of John as a person in his own right," Gus said thoughtfully. "But he's not going to be pleased if we let him get involved with Redfern and then turn him back. Look, there she is now."
"Fine, fine…" Shawn sighed. "Matron Redfern!" he called out.
Joan turned his way. "Oh, Mr. Smith."
"Listen, I need to speak with you about my brother," Shawn told her. "It's a somewhat delicate matter, I'm afraid."
"Of course," Joan agreed immediately. "Is something the matter?"
"It's possible," Shawn confirmed. "I noticed that you may in the future form an…attachment to John."
"Would that be so terrible?" Joan challenged.
"It wouldn't be if it weren't for Rose," Shawn told her as inspiration struck.
Joan's eyes narrowed. "Rose? Who is Rose?"
"John's wife," Shawn revealed.
Joan's back stiffened. "John did not seem like the sort of man to-"
"He's not," Shawn was quick to assure her. "It's just…I do hope I have your word that this conversation will stay between us."
"Of course," Joan said crisply. "What happened with Rose?"
"Two years ago she met a man, an Italian. She left with him," Shawn revealed awkwardly. "John…he loves Rose. He always has and he's blind to her character flaws. He thinks that she's dead and we didn't have the heart to let him know the truth. It wasn't a problem until we got here as he's been in mourning all this time but now…"
"I understand," Joan told him. "Really, I do. That's not the kind of story you want to be widely known. But just the same, you have to tell him. You're not always going to be there to stop him from accidentally becoming a bigamist."
"Normally, we would," Shawn assured her, his mind racing. "I'm not expecting my brother to be in mourning forever. It's just that Rose has gotten sick. According to her last letter, the doctors don't expect her to last the year. It would be quite inappropriate for him to form an attachments until she's gone but once we receive news of her death…"
"I see," Joan said, her face absolutely unreadable, even to Shawn. "That is good to know. Thank you, Mr. Smith. Don't worry, I will keep this between us."
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