Thank you very much Ashtrees and Wikketkrikket for reviewing, it has motivated me to write the next interlude.

So here it is, ready to go.

Interlude 3

The nurse was taking a ridiculously long amount of time to get back to the small examination room and dismiss her. Deborah was aware that there were probably at least twelve other patients on her rounds, but she also couldn't help gritting her teeth and picking at the sides of her nails in boredom.

She knew that she was fine, she even had her coat on over her uniform jacket, ready to walk out the doors and go to work. Permission to leave was just a formality, but a necessary formality nonetheless.

The room itself held nothing to admire, merely the white walls and slick clean equipment of every NHS hospital across the country; it was with a sense of self-contentment, an unusual feeling overall, that Deborah mused on her decision not to pursue a medical career all those years ago. She wouldn't have survived this monotony every day, even though she was sure many people did, and were perfectly happy staying in one place.

With a sigh, Deborah pulled her phone from her pocket, bowing to the inevitable. Getting checked over for internal injuries had been a nice distraction from all of the practical problems that she now had to deal with; but alas, the real world came a-knocking.

Hopefully the nurse would take long enough with her others wards that she wouldn't walk in on the tail end of an awkward phone-call; especially as she was supposed to have turned her phone off when she entered the building.

As Deborah tapped the buttons on the phone's screen, pulling up her contacts list and finding the correct name, it occurred to her that this would be the second time since their separation that she had spoken to Harry.

He had called once, a few hours after he had moved out for good, to tell her that he had arrived safely (as she had requested – she wasn't going to be cruel, they had been married for a few years), and to check once again that she was sure.

Harry was living on his own now as well. He said that he wasn't seeing his Tai Chi teacher anymore, out of respect for the fact that their affair cost him his marriage. Deborah knew him well enough to know that his resolve might last all of a month before he changed his mind; but the thought was nice.

It was all very amiable.

Then nothing; just getting up and performing her routines just as she had before. Martin and Arthur didn't know anything, and Deborah supposed that that made things easier, as she didn't have to try and talk to them about it; it was actually refreshing to be able to just exist with them without worrying about whether they were worrying about her.

Carolyn was just the same as always.

Pressing her phone to her ear, concentrating on the plastic chill rather than the wormlike squirming in her throat, Deborah listened to the dull dial tone, ringing once, then twice, then a third. She was about to cut off the call and try later, when a metallic click poured from the speakers, followed by the sound of a throat clearing.

"Debbie?" Harry sounded bewildered, but concerned all the same; Deborah wasn't surprised. She had never called him during the day when they were married. In fact, the fact that he had picked up when he was probably at work was somewhat touching.

"Harry." Deborah greeted him shortly; even alone, she dropped her eyes to her knees to allay the discomfort that she was feeling; it didn't matter how touching his sentiments were, the longing for his affection had dissipated shockingly quickly, it was a wonder that they had lasted as long as they did, "I know I said I didn't want to speak to you-"

"No, no, that's okay." Harry assured her; she could hear him shifting the phone as if he were pinning it between his shoulder and his ear, "Are…are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Deborah answered drearily; she pressed her palm over her closed eyes, "I'm just calling to ask whose name is on the car insurance and the last MOT."

There was a pause, and Deborah pulled the phone away from her ear for a fraction of a second to settle it more comfortably; if she came across as bitter, which she was aware she probably did, it was only because she was inwardly cursing herself for not considering this sort of formality when she had made Harry leave.

"I paid the last instalments, but I did it under your name, you should be fine." Harry replied distractedly; Deborah could just imagine him scrunching his nose up, and she rolled her eyes as he continued, "Never mind that – what have you done to the car?"

"I haven't done anything to the car; some new driver barrelled into the side of me on my way to work." Deborah explained, although she didn't feel as if she should be, "The car's fully functional, it's just a bit dented…all the way down the passenger side."

"What? Where are you now?" Harry demanded, choking out his response; Deborah was sure he must have been sipping coffee given the splutter on the other side of the line.

"I'm in A and E." she remarked, sparing the room another disinterested glance; it was incredible how being attached to a road accident could allow you to avoid all of the bureaucracy that led to four hours in the emergency room for things as small as broken fingers.

"Do you need someone to take you home?" Harry asked, and Deborah could hear him sigh through the speakers; if she had needed one reminder of why they fell apart, that would have done nicely.

"No, Harry; as I said, the car is fully functional and I am perfectly capable of driving it to the airfield." Deborah answered in a clipped tone, making sure that Harry would hear her disdain, sending as many disappointed thoughts as she could through the invisible phone line.

"Good – I can't really take time off work at the moment." Harry noted.

"Oh, you are charming; wasn't I lucky." Deborah drawled fighting the temptation to slam the phone down; mobile it may have been, but she had never been able to forget the joy of slamming down a handset mid-argument.

"Was that all you needed?" Harry inquired, carefully avoiding reacting; Deborah couldn't deny that she appreciated the gesture, and sighed as the prickle of agitation lapsed.

"Yes, that was it." Deborah acknowledged; there was nothing else to say, no desire to know how he had been getting on without her, no need to converse with him at all, "Goodbye then."

"Goodbye." Harry replied; she thought that he sounded reluctant, but then the minute rustle of his end of the line was replaced by the droning chime of a disconnected call.

Deborah swung her arm down to press the disconnect button particularly violently, and was rewarded with a splinter of pain across her chest and her left wrist; she may have been fine, but the nurse had been decidedly firm when pointing out that lurching forward into the steering wheel had bruised her ribs and wrist enough that she should 'take it easy'.

The simple whirring that permeated the otherwise silent room wasn't enough to keep Deborah from almost overthinking the conversation she had just had. She turned the phone over in her hands, and then peered toward the door. It seemed as if the nurse might be a while, so it couldn't hurt to slip in one more call.

Once again she pressed the phone against her ear and listened to the dial tone, wincing in inward anticipation of the onslaught that she would inevitably fall victim to. The click resounded in her ear, and though she tried to speak first, she wasn't quick enough.

"Deborah, you are two hours late – this is pushing it, even for you. If I didn't know you, I might have been worried that you'd walked under a bus, or fallen in a canal, but no, you couldn't call me if you had." Carolyn's concerned irritation made the corners of Deborah's lips curl up, and she exhaled tiredly as she allowed the older woman to continue and wear herself down, "You'd better have a good excuse."

"I shall not disappoint, Carolyn." Deborah drawled warmly, fingering the papery cover that overlaid the cheap hospital check-up bed, "I was in a car accident."

"A car accident?!" Carolyn squawked; there was a sound on the other end of the line, a low yet reedy booming that made the reception crackle.

Deborah listened, eyebrows knitted, as it sounded as if Carolyn placed her phone on the desk, and spoke from a great distance; she could just about decipher the individual words.

"Martin - - down and - - quiet." There was a rustling and crackling, and then Carolyn's voice was clearer, making Deborah recoil ever so slightly, adjusting where she was holding the phone, realising that she had been pressing it particularly hard into her ear, "Deborah, what do you mean you've been in a car accident? Are you alright?"

"I assure you, I am absolutely fine." Deborah rolled her eyes, struggling not to smile; she glanced quickly at the door when she heard footsteps in the corridor, but to her relief, no one entered, "I was just calling to say that I'll be in work soon, so long as I'm ever actually released."

Carolyn could be heard humming to herself down the phone, and then she continued thoughtfully, having cleared her throat.

"Do you need picking up from the hospital?" Carolyn inquired, "It's just that Martin looks as if he's about to sprint to your beside in eight long leaps."

"No I'm not!"

That time Deborah could understand the deeper echo mixed in with the crackling background of MJN's porta-cabin, and realised that the previous bustle must have been Martin's spluttering reaction to Carolyn's exclamation.

She traced her fingers over the buttons of her coat, pointedly ignoring the shimmer of warmth that fluttered in her chest.

"No, just give me an hour or so and I'll be there." Deborah replied, and then as an after -thought, "Tell Martin his daring rescue is unwarranted…but greatly appreciated."

"Will do." Carolyn chirped, "I expect you within the hour."

"Okay, bye." Deborah dropped the call, and clicked the button on the top of her phone, just as the sound of the nurse's clipping heels sounded down the corridor. She slipped the mobile into her pocket as the woman entered the room, and greeted her with an unforced smile.

"Sorry for the wait," the nurse sighed apologetically, "I hope you haven't missed out on too much."

Deborah put on her most charming smile and slipped to her feet, digging her hands into her pockets, before drawling.

"Not at all."

oOoOoOo

Deborah winced, hissing a breath through her teeth as she examined the dented metal, and scratched paint along the side of her otherwise beautiful purple Lexus. She hadn't looked too hard when leaving the hospital, eager to get to work within the hour slot she had been allowed, but now…it was unavoidable.

She reached down to run her fingers along the jagged folds, and wrinkled her nose when paint came away like flakes of dry paste, sticking to her skin.

The insurance may cover it, but she was going to have to live with a scarred vehicle until she was able to get it fixed; it didn't matter, Deborah thought in a burst of sentimentality, she would love her car anyway. The ache of her ribs would eclipse the superficial pain caused by the heartless damage caused.

Reluctantly, Deborah forced herself away from mourning the temporary disfigurement of her most expensive possession, and wandered over to the porta-cabin, preparing herself for the paperwork that Carolyn was sure to foist on her to make up for the lost time.

As she pushed open the door, having to nudge it with her knee to compensate for the damage that they still hadn't repaired, Deborah kept her eyes down, which turned out to be a mistake.

Before she had even taken two steps, Deborah was nearly knocked backwards by the force of someone twice her size barrelling into her and keeping her from hitting the ground only by sweeping her into a suffocating embrace that left the tips of her toes tracing the floor.

Groaning and huffing against the pain in her chest, exacerbated by the force of the hug, Deborah struggled to extract her arms long enough to give Arthur a quick squeeze around the shoulders, although she was certain that it merely intensified the image of her hanging helplessly.

"Deborah!" Arthur exclaimed, hugging her even tighter before finally releasing her, gracious enough to lower her to her feet rather than plopping her down; he was grinning ear to ear, "See, I told them you'd be alright, and they didn't believe me."

Deborah couldn't stop a small smile from gracing her lips, even as she splayed her palm over her lower chest; true, she was in more pain than she had been for about an hour and a half, but there was something worthwhile and pleasant about having someone so pleased to see her.

"Is that so?" she retorted, patting Arthur playfully on the elbow, but keeping far enough away that she wasn't at risk of being swept up again, "Your faith in me is astounding."

"Well not really, because you are fine." Arthur remarked; then he glanced over his shoulder, and Deborah's eyes were drawn towards her own desk, where she only then noticed that Martin was standing, free of his jacket, shirtsleeves pushed to the elbows, watching the two of them tentatively; Arthur must have seen her looking, as he suggested quickly, "I'll just let Mum know you're here."

With that Arthur stumbled backwards, and then strode hastily into Carolyn's office, letting the door fall shut with a definitive thud.

Deborah stared into the space that he left behind, and then unwillingly, though she didn't know why that was, she let her eyes slide to Martin's, and smiled awkwardly, slipping her arms loosely around her chest.

Martin's lips flickered into a cautious smile, and his cheeks flushed red as he brought his hands together in front of him; if Deborah didn't know any better, from the creases in his uniform, she would have said that he had been pacing.

"So…nice quiet morning without me then?" Deborah inquired, stepping closer to him, so that she was standing beside him in front of her desk; in truth, she intended to look over her desk for stray work, but was having a hard time finding the inclination while Martin's eyes still bored into her, as if analysing every inch of her face, "Anyone would think you were worried."

Martin shook his head sharply, and brought a quivering hand to his lips, fingers curling, before dragging his bottom lip through his teeth and replying determinedly.

"When Carolyn said car accident, there was a horrible moment – just, just a moment, when I thought…" Martin let out a shaky scoff, and Deborah let the tension drop from her shoulders as she watched him with muted confusion, "I thought that you might be dead – it was just a moment, but…i-it was horrible – so don't get smart with-"

"Oh, Martin…" Deborah sighed, a warm, sympathetic glow surging from her stomach to her chest; she tilted her head ever so slightly as he blushed again, and dropped her gaze, looking anxiously to his fingers, scowling as if cursing himself for his stupidity.

Before she knew what she was doing, Deborah unravelled her arms and held them imperceptibly open, extended towards Martin; he must have seen the movement from the corner of his eyes, and within seconds, he surged forwards, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her.

Unlike Arthur who had simply hurled himself at her, Martin slipped his arms into a position around her back, embracing in such a way that though she was pinned to his chest, her ribs didn't sting. As she wrapped her own arms around his shoulders, allowing him to shift her into a more comfortable position, Deborah was aware of how one of Martin's hands grasped at the material at her mid-back, and the other clasped in her hair, almost stroking down to her neck as his cheek pressed against the side of her head, and the only place she could place her own head was to tuck it into the crevice between his shoulder and neck. Though the breath on her neck was no true indication, she suspected that he might have been trying to inhale as much of her as he could.

Deborah couldn't remember the last time anyone had held her so desperately.

She couldn't move, but it was so comforting to have Martin right there, a warm presence, holding her together. She could just about hear his pulse in his neck, as he swallowed shakily, and continued to stroke his fingers slowly through her hair. She couldn't quite tell, but she thought Martin might even have been rocking imperceptibly from side to side.

And she didn't want to move, not at all. She had been calm all the way from the main road to the hospital, all the way to the airfield. The accident had been scary, she had been caught unawares, and her heart had been throbbing so hard that her hands had been shaking.

It felt like a cloak of weighted chainmail was being lifted from her shoulders…god, it was just so nice to have someone give so much of a damn. It just so happened that the last person she'd thought that would be was the one clinging to her as if she might evaporate.

Martin pulled back, and Deborah was excruciatingly aware of the sensation of the thin layer of his shirt rubbing along her open jacket, as she too leant back. He didn't break the embrace though, keeping his hands in place, one on her shoulder, the other somewhere about her waist, as hers slipped down to rest over the peak of his shoulders.

Deborah found that she couldn't tear her eyes from his, as Martin gazed shakily into hers, his blue eyes almost watery, matching his trembling lips. She gave his shoulders a squeeze, and he chuckled raggedly, shaking his head to dispel his embarrassment.

"Are you absolutely sure that you're okay…because if you're not-" Martin began, his fingers flexing where he held her.

"Martin, I'm alright, there's nothing to worry about." Deborah assured him, her voice no louder than it needed to be for the two of them to hear it; with little explanation as to why, she gave in to the sensation in her gut that felt like a magnet being tugged irrevocably in one direction, "Would you like another hug?"

She made it sound like a joke, like a playful jest only on offer because Martin was still blushing madly and his eyes were alight with worry. In reality, Deborah just wanted to close her eyes and let him hold her again. She swallowed down the voice in the back of her head that mocked how starved for affection she was feeling in that moment – it was Martin, for god's sake.

Martin chuckled shakily again, nodding tiny little nods that barely qualified.

"Yeah…"

Deborah allowed herself to be pulled eagerly to him again (although she may have helped), and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against Martin's cheek, allowing him to hold and rock back and forth ever so slightly, relishing the feeling of complete…security, as Martin was gripping her so tightly that she doubted anything could get at her.

"Enjoy this." Deborah murmured, opening her eyes and lifting her head so that she could whisper in Martin's ear, her lips almost brushing the skin, "Because it's not going to happen often."

She felt more than heard Martin laugh, the movement rippling through his chest, and she gripped the fabric of his shoulders beneath her fingers. When she glanced over his face, or as much of it as she could see from the angle she was at, she saw with a spark of pleasure that he was wearing his adorably devilish smirk.

"So it's going to happen sometimes?" Martin inquired, tugging at her back playfully.

Deborah pursed her lips rather than smile fully; it was enough that she felt ready to slip her arms from Martin's shoulders and step back, colliding with her desk as she seemed to have forgotten quite where she had been standing.

Martin too stepped back hastily, hands diving immediately for his pockets, and then to fiddle with his sleeves, as his eyes darted this way and that, only meeting Deborah's gaze between this and that.

It was only then, with the added distance between them (though that was only a few feet – she was extremely aware of that fact), that Deborah was able to formulate a clever response to Martin's implication.

"Only if you're lucky." She drawled, smirking and leaning back against her desk; she let her hands curl around the edge of the desk, grounding her against the strange feeling of weightlessness, or it might have been dizziness from a yet unnoticed injury.

Martin quirked an eyebrow and looked thoughtful for a moment, then his eyes lit up as he found the perfect retort.

"Well…perhaps I…might be." He remarked, never breaking eye contact; Deborah couldn't help the small giggle that escaped, though Martin knew her well enough to spot the reaction caused by a terrible, terrible move in their games.

Without another word, Martin wandered back over to his own desk, dropping into his chair and fiddling nonsensically with various papers and tools, not doing much of anything with any of them.

Deborah watched for a few moments, unsure of quite what to do with herself. Carolyn and Arthur hadn't come out to give her instructions yet, and Martin was…preoccupied.

She supposed that given the direction the day seemed to be taking, her only option was to relish the winning of another impromptu competition.

It was that, or wonder why it seemed oddly like Martin was…flirting with her.

Because that in itself was a ridiculous notion...

But then again, fake flirting might add a whole new layer of fun to their games if they could pull it off without it becoming awkward. Hell, it might actually strengthen whatever friendship they were slowly but surely building.

Far shorter than my other chapters, but some things just can't be stretched.

Please do enjoy, and let me know your thoughts.