"Hey," he offered with a small sad smile. He offered those a lot lately, as he stood in the dorrway of her flat in London. He drew his coat closer around him, and Martha could not help but notice he was thinner.

"Hey," she smiled with a small hand movement ushering him into her flat. "Waas it a good drive?"

John shrugged and moved to the playpen in the center of the living room. "I make it every weekend now." he through over his shoulder and knelt in front of the playpen to lift Addy. "Hey my big guy."

Addy gurgled indefinitely and clapped his chubby hands. It tore at her to see how happy he was every time e saw John. "He missed you."

"I missed him a hell of a lot more. " John answered offishly but did not move his eyes from the baby as he jiggled him in his arms. "I'd drive a hell of a lot further to get to him."

Martha nodded and set the kettle on the stove. "Stay for tea?" she asked from the tiny kitchen. He often refused, and it hurt to see how fast he wanted to leave her place. Since she left Manchester, it had been strained between them. After Christmas, the two of them walked the floors of their apartment as ghosts, tied together by the string in diapers.

HE surprised her with his answer. "Yeah, that'd be good." he nodded stiffly and turned back to Adric. Martha set about making the tea, setting out the cups and spoons. She remembered the way he liked his tea, even kept his favorite here in London.

The first month after their Christmas, was a display of sadness and quiet distance. Sometimes, he sat at the piano saying nothing for hours; before that night, it was John's way of focusing. But, after that night, the quiet moodish brooding became something entirely different. The silences grew between them again, often, Martha found herself starting an argument just to hear his voice.

In the end, they sat down and had a grown up conversation that involved a lot of hard decisions.

"How's work?" Martha asked setting down the mug on the table in front of John.

He smiled then. "Still teaching, finals are over for the semester. I am going to have a bit of a breal...sorta one of the reasons I hung about."

Martha sat a safe distance across from him. Being in the same room, brought back the hurt, but it also brought back to her the love. Her feelings, recently opened, were poured over her skin and written in indelible ink. She kept in her head, the exact date where she could give him the watch. It made her laugh at times thinking of how she missed the person he is, that for a long time how she hated, then felt indifferent to the Doctor. Now, it was strk, her love for the Doctor, and her missing him.

"Hung about? And here I thought it was for the tea." she raised her cup in a display of affable distance. Their relationship now, their 'marriage' was all about distances. She lived in London again, and he still ived in Manchester, they had given up the expensive flat and he now lived in a small house close to the university he taught at. In three months, it was as if they had erased all of the lies between them. But, that had been the problem in the first place, hadn't it? Martha realized that the night he left their bed for the last time, he had seen something in her eyes, something that belied the emotions she was trying so hard to show. She loved the Doctor, and John was only an ersatz copy.

John shifted uncomfortable. "I was wondering, since I am off for a ew weeks, can I take Addy for the time I am off?"

Martha nodded, she figured he would want more time with him. It was no surprise to her how much he cared for the baby. In John's mind, it was his son,, without question "Why would I not? He is as much yours as he is mine." Martha answered, realizing how much truth were in those words. "Du you have everything you need for him?" She had seen his little house, two bedrooms and a postage stamp yard. It all happened so fast that by the time they had decided to live separately, it was Martha scrambling to find her bearings. John, however, seemed completely in his element thinking on his feet. More bleeding through.

He stood and nodded. "Of course I do," he answered. "I...I'm glad we can be such adults about all of this. It must be hard on him, not seeing me all the time. Not seeing us together."

"He misses the piano too." she nodded. "I have been playing BBC 3 for him a lot, keeps him clam. But, its not the same."

John nodded solemnly. "Not the same. We'll make sure to have plenty of music time over the next three weeks, won;t we?" he jiggled the infant and stood. "He has gotten too big for the car seat on the top of the piano, hasn't he?"

John was right, Adric had grown in the three months since Christmas. He had even begun the rudiments of crawling. "He's scooting across the floor now, so be careful of anything he can get his hands on."

"Right, and if he is anything like me, that'll be plenty!" John's smile faded into something odd, a look akin to one the Doctor would flash when he spoke of Gallifrey. "Right, ok, nothing on the floors."

"Three weeks is a long time..." she hemmed. Adric's presence took the edge off the loneliness, and Francine reveled in having him around the last two months, but her mother took every opportunity to waggle the fickle finger of fate at her whenever possible. Mostly about her marriage, partially about her failings. Francine was convinced that Mrtha should move back home with Adric.l That she was taking her own life and that of Adric's into dangerous territories by living in London. "So many crazies." Her mother would offer in all seriousness. Martha would sigh and politely decline, she knew this wasn't the place for her and Adric,she also realized it was a temporary situation until she could get the Doctor back.

"I miss the hell out of him." John spoke, but the rest of the words hung in the air, unspoken. It was never a question of whether or not he loved her, she knew that. Their separation was never about love, nor being able to live together. John was rubbish as a human, but he was still brilliant, he could tell she was not in love with him, and as much as it hurt, there was no amount of pretending that would change that. The man she loved was buried in there somewhere, but it would be another year before she found him again.

"I know," she nodded. "I just...No, its fine this is the right thing. You should have as much time with him as you can."

John smiled then; he shouldered the diaper bag and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Thanks Martha."

She smiled back at him, wondered how long before she would lose her mind. She missed him as much as he missed her, but the human man standing in her door had no inclination to be placated with a lie. "Three weeks, then?" she asked with a forced smile. "What are you planning to do?"

He grinned then, more honest than her smile, "oh, you know. This and that. He's five months old, there is only so much we can do together. Maybe the zoo, maybe a few trips to the mall." He shrugged again. "Maybe we will sit around and watch bad television."

"You are keeping an eye on him, aren't you?" She asked the cell phone in her hand.

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you had completed your mission." The voice at the other end accused. Jack. He was none too pleased at the turn of events at the Bowman House. When the hammer fell, she had called him first, giving him a heads up on the situation. Jack had done little more than poo poo the situation, offering the location of a good adult toy shop to aid things along. When she turned up in London at her mother's doorstep, Tish had phoned Jack herself to inform him that things had definitely taken a turn that even Lover's Lane could not fix.

"Little late for accusations, Jack. I am not having this conversation with you. Again. Look, you know how serious this is—how much he means to me..."

Jack cleared his throat on the other end. "If it had been that important, you would still be ther."

"Jack, just look after them, ok?" Martha begged.

"Like you even have to ask that." He answered. "Martha, I realize things went a little pear shaped, and without sharing the details, I am sure you had good reason."

"We both did."

"But," Jack went on. "What is the Doctor going to say when he is back?" Is he going to think you abandoned him?"

"I think about that all of the time, Jack. But you don't understand it. I don't suppose you could. " She hung up the phone rather than go any further. Jack's heart was in the right place, as were everyone else's. But, no one saw it coming, no one knew the truth, and as per usual, Martha felt no need to fill anyone in on the gory details of her failed love life.

The empty apartment resonated in its silence. Usually, Adric kept up a steady prattle, or BBC 3 soothed him enough to sleep. Now, the steady ticking of the clock in the kitchen was slowly driving her mad. John drove down to London every Friday night to pick up Adric for the weekend, and dropped him off late Sunday. He never stayed long, and Martha understood that being in her presence was far too painful for him to admit. He had told her that last day, as they sat together at the kitchen table; that he loved her more than he could ever express in English, but he knew she did not feel the same way about him.

"It's something in your eyes, Martha." He said shaking his head. "I never saw it before that night..." He fiddled with the sopping teabag on the saucer, looking anywhere but at her. "I have to wonder if it's someone else…"

"There is no one else." She lied. But, was it really a lie? The questions would have immense time to ponder now that they had parted ways.

"Then there is somewhere else you would rather be, then." He added. "In any case, I was never good at coming in second."

Martha had said nothing, nothing could sugar coat the honesty in his words. She shook her head and sighed. "It's all rubbish, John. This does not have to end. Whatever you are thinking you see, or feel it's not wrong, but it's not right either …" she unfolded her arms in front of her, a sign of surrender she had hoped he would see.

"Sometimes," he began clearing the chunk she could hear in his throat. "Sometimes, I imagine it's the me before the encephalitis. That, somehow that is who you are pining for."

You have no idea, she thought bitterly, but swallowed the response that came to her mind instantly. The fob watches were safe and hidden, and as long as those were hidden, no one would find him, or Addy."That's not true, you are the same person, maybe there are subtle differences, but you are the same person, John."

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "We both know that is not true, Martha/. There are holes in my memories. Things that I only recall in halves, barely even tangible full memories.

He's left then, and Martha could not find the words to make him stay. There were none. She did not love John. Not like that, her acclamation of her love for the Doctor was still too fresh to try to angle in another identity. The irony was not lost on her. Here, she had fought against all that had happened over the past three years, only to be hit in the face with staggering and glaring admission of her love for the Doctor, only to have it end her relationship...with the Doctor. Sort of.

And here, now, she was alone. Sort of.

Now, she did little more than the occasional freelance work for Jack. He kept her jumping most weekends, and tried to keep her in London during the week. The odd weekday trips were fine by Francine. She fawned over the five month old in a way that made Martha consider moving to America.

But, the truth was, she felt bad enough having left him in Manchester. Alone. Martha prayed he would not find another Nurse Redfern. It was less jealousy and more fear of hurting another person the way he had her while he was human last time. The simple truth was, he had no idea who he was, and it left a possibility, or probability of heartache, pain and sorrow.

As Tish had once pointed out, some still bled through.

She'd been autopsying another dead weevil when her phone trilled in her pocket. Adric has been in Manchester for a week, and Martha, so desperate to get out of her silent apartment, had taken Jack up on his offer to have a three week working holiday in Cardiff. She had bailed on the idea at first; it was that first Saturday night when he made the offer. Jack and Tish had shown up at her apartment with food and an arsenal of alcohol.

"We are gonna get you plastered and take advantage of you." Jack smiled with an eyebrow wiggle.

Tish had nudged him. "What he means, Martha, is that Jack has an offer for you, and we both figured alcohol would soften the request."

"That's what I said!" Jack insisted with mock irritation.

Martha had shrugged and let them in; even let them get her drunker than she had ever been. \When Jack asked to spend the next three weeks in Cardiff; it wasn't the alcohol that said yes. A week later, and she sat in the Hub medical unit where she had given birth over five months ago. The rest of the team had left to investigate strange creatures in Birmingham.

She checked the ID on the screen; a Manchester number she was not familiar with. "Hello?"

The voice at the other end held a tone she was familiar with it was the clipped and even tone of a medical professional attempting to maintain a level of calm. "Martha Bowman?" The woman with the steely voice asked.

Her heart began to pound a steady and urgent rhythm as she realized the nature of the call. "What is it, what's happened?"

"Mrs. Bowman, I am trying to reach you to let you know there has been an accident on the M17. Your husband John and your son…"

She shook her head. "No, no please no…"

"Mrs. Bowman, we suggest you get here as soon as possible…"

"What is the prognosis?" Martha asked as she stormed through the halls of Torchwood.

"We suggest you get here as soon as possible Mrs. Bowman—"

"It's Doctor Bowman!" she screamed into the phone. "Now tell me what's happened."