Greetings from the Desert. Sorry this took so long, back to work and all that. Thanks for the support, it means a lot to me.

She turned to look at him slowly, struck dumb by his words. "What?" she said, but had to stop herself from finishing with the word Doctor.

"I remember." he spoke, but his eyes had gone back to looking out of the window ahead of him. "After Adric. You said a year. That we would give it a year." he nodded robotically.

"I don't-"

"You did, we were having troubles, but I thought." He gulped audibly. "I thought we were going to try to work things out. You said you would. You said not to have expectations. The only expectation I had were that we would try."

She nodded. "I didn't think it would be so hard," she shook her head. Martha wished she could say more, but the words seemed hollow, he wasn't the same man. "I don't think either of us should expect this to be fixed after only a couple of months." Martha had to pull herself together, she felt thrust into a situation that she had no control over, and in a lot of ways, she supposed he was as well. Maybe this is what it would take to be able for both of them to walk away clean, to get out of the mess that was created over a year ago. "I wanted this to work but-"

"You did!" he shouted suddenly, the sound of his voice cause Adric to scream suddenly. Martha took that opportunity to open the car door, she removed Adric from his seat and headed for the house.

She reached the front door of the house, only then remembering that she had left her purse and keys in the car in her rush to gt away. Adric was in full tilt, as she shifted him to return to the car, John came to her elbow, he held her purse in one hand, and opened the front door with the other.

The cool of their apartment hit her as she pushed the door closed behind her. John placed her purse on the couch and sat at the piano. In their bedroom, Martha sat on the bed to nurse Adric. The day had faded into late evening, and she did not relish the idea of going to work in the morning. It wasn't that she was lazy, Martha Jones had never been that, but she had never really practiced the type of medicine that she did now at Queen's Corner Hospital. She was more than qualified for the job, perhaps too qualified. Last week, while bandaging a football Mum's knee, Martha found herself wishing for a hostile alien takeover, or some blood born pathogen of questionable origin. Then, she hated herself realizing that people would die, and her current job as an ER nurse wielded nothing more dangerous than the occasional

She hated herself for becoming that person.

He came to the door of the room as Adric pulled lazily from her breast. John watched her for a long time without speaking. Martha tried to pretend there wasn't something hovering in the air over them What he remembered, and what he was now were juxtaposed into a person that she both knew and did not know.

"I'm sorry I scared you." he said finally. John moved to sit next to her on the bed with a liquidity that made Martha blush. There was no denying for her that she was attracted to him, in a completely different way than she was with the Doctor. With the Doctor, there was an attraction but it was edged with longing, like peering at a photos shown through smiling faces in an old album.

She nodded at his words, but said nothing. John went on. "This isn't what I always imagined marriage to be. I thought..." he looked around as if realizing for the first time he was in a room he shared with her. "I don;t want us to be this. My parents died when I was too young to remember what I could have learned from them about having a healthy relationship." he sighed. "Or, not."

Martha eyed him suspiciously but let him go on speaking. "Sarah Jane never married. We had an aunt, but she never married either. Blimey that is pretty sad."

Martha shifted Adric to the other side and placed her free hand on his arm comforting. "Listen, Martha, if you still want to go, I can't stop you, and I don;t want you to be here if you don't want to I thought this would be our home until later when we would buy a house, maybe have another..." he trailed off and nodded.

"I don't think it's fair to either of us that we stay here, like this." Martha whispered.

"I agree." John ran his hands over his face, the confusion from earlier was back, and it brought sadness with it. "Would you consider counseling?"

Martha had to bite the side of her mouth to repress the sudden giggle that errupted from somewhere inside of her. It was the Doctor's face, the Doctor's mouth, but it was something the Doctor never, in a million trillion years, had uttered. The stifled giggle sounded like a choked sob in the ears of the man next to her. He took his free arm and snaked it around her waist. "I think we should. I don't want to give up on this."

A thousand answers danced through her mind. Most of them were negative, some were snappish, there were a few accusatory and sarcastic. But, underneath the hurt and sour feelings that she had nursed for too long, was a small word, one that left the man next to her smiling into her shoulder.

XXXXXXXXXX

The alarm went off too early. She rolled over to her side and flopped an arm to try and stem the tide of wakefullness for another nine minutes. She turned again into her pillow, and stretched her other arm across the bed. The empty side.

They had decided last night that he would room in the nursery for now. She insisted it was all right, but John was much like the Doctor, relentless. He had even go so far as to pack his things up and take them into the other room "I want to make this right, Martha." he said with all the determination the Doctor would show when in a hurry to get to the next crisis.

She had stood watching his movements, and he refused any help on her part. "This is the only way, Martha. I would move out, but." he looked at Adric.

After her shower,Martha made her way int the kitchen. The table was laid out with near precision. "I was worried you would hit that snooze button and not have time for a good breakfast." john smiled . He served their breakfast and then sat himself across from her at the small table. "I want this to be a new start." he smiled. "And any good new start begins with breakfast."

"You don't have to make me breakfast," Martha protested as she demolished the fry up he had set before her.

"Which is exactly why I did it. The point is, Martha." he explained between bites. :Love does not need definition. It does not need reason, or logic, or...have to's" John reached over and stole a piece of bacon off of her plate. "It's a give and a take."

"You give me breakfast and steal the bacon?" she asked between forkfuls.

"Something like that." he nodded. "It's my goal to get us where we should have been a long time ago. I don;t remember everything I did, Martha, but your faith in me was far greater than mine in you, or at least in your perception. That has to change. So, if I have to be your personal attendant until you get how I feel is genuine. Then, so be it. "

"This is ridiculous." she announced as he removed her plate and started the dishes.

"Ridiculous is your feeling that you are second to someone who may have meant something to me at one time, but not enough to marry." John said.

After breakfast, he placed a brown bag in front of her. "Lunch," he smiled. "Don;t s[end your milk money and junk and play nice with the other doctors." he smiled. "But, not too nice."

He did not kiss her as she left, and Martha actually missed it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Every morning he made her breakfast, and they sat in the small kitchen talking, quietly. Martha found herself even setting her alarm clock a little earlier so she could sit in the kitchen with him while he fried bacon and eggs. They talked about nothing and everything. Martha found she loved the sound of his voice, the cadence of his words were nothing like that of his true self. John Bowman spoke slowly but effortlessly.

"I start teaching this week." he announced the next weekend while they sat at his piano. Martha nodded, she knew eventually he would be ready to be released back into society. They had led an exhaustive search for a reputable sitter, with the help of Jack who had no trouble doing a full background check on everyone they interviewed.

The week before, not long after their early morning breakfasts began, Martha was in the bedroom reading, a knock at the bedroom door produced John, hair neatly combed, new suit and all. He held in his hands a fragile looking cluster of flowers that she could only have guessed he picked out of their backyard. "Hullo." he smiled, and Martha smiled back as the lines of his face crinkled into the greeting.

"What's this then?" she asked, hoping she sounded as casual as she had hoped. Martha had even leaned onto the door frame, arms crossed.

He looked down at the flowers in his hand as if he had forgotten they were there. "These are for you."

"Peace offering?" she asked taking them in her hands and bringing them to her nose. The scent of fresh earth and sweet nectar filled her nostrils pleasantly.

He offered her a shy smile. "Actually," he tried, his now free hands seemed want for something to do. "Actually I just wanted to brighten your day."

It went that way, for two weeks now, Martha could not deny that his actions were starting to get to her, that her resolve was slowly caving.

All had come to this, as they sat in their living room. He at his favorite perch in front of the piano, and Martha on the floor watching Adric's new trick. He had learned to roll over, and she was saddened and happy at his small new miracle. "Yes, you do."

His fingers played a few notes of something Celtic and he spoke again. " I start back teaching this week, and I wondered if you would like to celebrate." He turned a hopeful expression to his wife.

"Celebrate?" she asked confused. "What do you mean?"''He played his fingers along the keys again and spoke. "What I mean is, you and me, celebrate, go out, like normal people who are happy."

"You mean a date?" she asked with a smile.

John nodded, "yes,, all right. I am asking you, my wife, for a date. Good Lord, most married folk just go. I don;t know why this has to be a discussion." he sighed and raised his head upward, not meeting her eyes. "Yes, Martha. I would like to go out, with you, on a date. Us. Together. No Adric."

The room fell silent, Martha wasn't sure how she should or evn wanted to react. SO much had changed for them in two weeks. He really was trying, and consequently, so was she. But, a date? "What kind of date?" she found herself asking.

"Oh the kind where we go out, have a good time, maybe even have dinner." he smiled. "A date, Martha. I am sure we have been on them before."

She shook her head, but smiled all the same. They had never really been on a date. Vacation, sort of. Running for their lives, definitely, but a date? " I guess we could, if we can find a sitter."

"We have a sitter, I phoned her, she is willing to do a night. I thought it would be good for us. We only have a year, you know." He spoke the last part wistfully.

Martha nodded but chose to ignore the statement. "Yes, well. A date." she squared her shoulders as if digging in for the inevitable. Jack had warned her last week, had told her to either get in, or get out. The thought of separating him from Adric, or herself, was an option that both frightened and disgusted her, and that had only left one viable option.

John nodded and continued to play softly pretending that it was as mullish of a topic s what they would eat for dinner. But, it wasn't. His family was everything to him, and he knew there was more to the story, while he could tell she loved him there was a lack of trust that he knew he was the only one to breach. He had called his sister two days before, begged Sarah Jane to tell him what was really going on. But, after twenty minutes of pleading, Sarah convincingly announced that she had had no idea what it was. Jack had been no help, and his list of possible confidants was wearing thin.

In truth, it was Martha he wanted to confide in; to be confided in. He wanted everything with her, but if after all of this, she still decided that enough was enough..."So, then after work tonight. Meet me here." he pushed a piece of paper across the top of the piano toward Martha.

She smiled at the location. "A date," she smiled. "Here?"

"Trust me?" he asked and smiled.

Martha nodded, grabbed her keys and smiled. "Six-thirty then." she confirmed and headed out the door.

XXXXXXXXXX

"That was both cute, interesting and oddly disturbing." she laughed as they left the school auditorium. "And, for some reason, it reminded me of Return of the Jedi."

John turned up one side of his face in a grin. How is Str Wars even remotely a part of this?" he asked, wishing he could take her hand into his as they walked through the still full parking lot. High school students and their parents grouped around the lot in packs as they congratulated their drama club.

Martha shrugged. "When George Lucas made the movie, he had wanted the planet Endor to be a planet of Wookies, but thought they would be too frightening, so he used a smaller more cute version of the creature. Ewoks."

HE stopped walking and turned to her in front of their car. "Martha Jones. I knew there was a reason I married you." he smiled. "But, yes I can see your point. I called all over Manchester to find anyone doing Love's Labour Lost, this was the only one I could find." he turned sad for a moment. "I'm sorry you didn't like it."

"Oh, I never said that." she smiled over to him as they got into the car. "I found it interesting. In fact, I thought the students gave a great performance."

"Look," he admitted as he started up the car and eased into traffic. "I know there are huge gaping holes in my memory. I never thought Encephalitis would be so damaging." John shook his head, but went on. "I just thought that, f we went to the same play we went to on our first date, it would create all new memories for us."

Martha reached across and placed her hand on his as he drove. "It has," she reassured him. "That was a nice play, and an even nicer gesture. I liked it, John. We are making memories now, new ones."

He nodded and fell silent, Martha wondered to herself, not for the first time, if so much of the Doctor was tied to his memories, how would it affect the man she rode next to. Would he hate the man he was for a year and a half after it all came undone? How could she go back, if she allowed herself to feel for this man, could she separate the two, or would she even have to? "We will get there." she said out loud, but still more to convince herself.

He nodded again and sighed. "Now, how about dinner?"

XXXXXXXXXX

By the time they made it back to their flat, the two were laughing, actually laughing. Their waiter had a funny accent, and he was terrible. Martha had thought that the meal out would be stinted and awkward. It wasn't. John seemed to have a wealth of funny stories about everything. He was one of those people who made up silly stories about strangers as they watched them. He kept her laughing the whole time.

John was an amazing human, and Martha could not help but find that easy facade slipping slowly as the night went on. She had to admit that John Bowman was someone she could have fallen for at one time.

But he wasn't a real person, and that alone was enough to keep reality from being sucked out by sheer fantasy.

He fumbled for the keys in the dark of their patio. The light had not worked since they moved in, something that both of them had at one time or another complained about. He dropped the keys onto the ground and reached to pick them up. When he came up again, the keys were not in his hands, and he reached for Martha.

His lips were on her before she knew what was happening, and she found that refusing to respond to his kisses was outside her realm of ability at that moment. His mouth was gentle and insistant, and Martha felt as if they were lulling her into some timid but responsive fugue. He pressed closer, arms around her possessive and determined. She wanted to push back, to force him away from her, instead, her traitorous arms wrapped around him in response, drawing her closer to him.

It wasn't a DNA exchange, nor the neatly chaste kisses in the past. This was writtten in stone, indelible in its nature. Just as she had given herself over to him, given herself over to the emotions that his touch had endeavored to bring about in her, he drew away from her, bent down to pick up the keys, opened the door, and lead her into their home by the hand.

In the end, after sending the sitter off for the night, they ended up in their separate rooms, but somehow Martha knew that whatever had happened on the patio was only the beginning.