Pronouns will be a bit screwy in this one, so apologies if they get mixed up or are a bit all over the place. Asher might be referred to as "he" a lot because people are mistaking her gender... for obvious reasons.

I was lucky. Or, well, unlucky depending on how you wanted to view things. I was unlucky since I had ended up in a forest in who-knows-where but lucky to have found a small town after about a day of wandering. It was unlucky when I found that I had no money for the current time period for anything more than a bit of bread and fruit, thanks to having just used it with Vincent Van Gogh. Yet, I was lucky to have somehow bartered my way into helping a farmer for a little bit of pay to keep from starving while I waited for the Doctor.

He was rather late though, or we somehow just kept missing each other. Weeks had passed and while I had fallen into a bit of a routine now—farming in the early morning, begging for food, money, or work in the afternoon, and securing someplace safe to sleep in the evening—I wasn't exactly enjoying myself. I was slightly glad I came off as androgynous enough that people assumed I was a slim, young man over a woman but that didn't change the fact that I was sunburnt, tired, frustrated, and hungry for something more than scraps of bread, fruit, and the occasional jerky, sandwich, or soup.

After the first month though, people in town started to recognize I would be around for a bit. Some questioned why I stayed and upon saying I was waiting for someone, I usually got comments like: "Must be some woman!" or "Hope she's worth it." They weren't wrong either, though it did make me wonder if I was a bit too dependent on the Doctor at times. What I was doing now felt as though I wasn't doing enough but also somehow like I'd accomplished something I never thought I could. I couldn't imagine myself farming and toiling away in the sun all day and scrounging for food and work before I ended up in this universe. Yet, I'd done that and found a place for myself within a month here on my own, which felt a little crazy.

It was all rather off-putting though. I'd rather do almost anything else but I had no real choice. This wasn't modern day, after all, and I didn't have a psychic paper or hypnosis abilities or anything like that. It was just me. A boring human with nowhere to go and nothing to my name but the clothes on my back that happened to have infinite pockets. Hardly useful when they didn't magically conjure up food or money. Still, there was nothing to do about it but keep pushing on and keep looking for the Doctor. And if I'm lucky, I won't be stuck here for another month, I mused with a sigh, tearing a chunk out of the piece of bread I had as I sat on a shaded patch of sidewalk and watched the townsfolk stroll by. Although, when am I ever lucky?

I rolled my eyes at the thought, reaching up and scratching at a sunburn that had started to peel just above my collar when something caught my eye across the street. It took me a moment to recognize what it was that had caught my attention. I had been looking for the Doctor for almost two months now. I had a general idea of who I was looking for and even if I didn't recognize him (or her), I felt like I would just… know now. I had been toying with my abilities while I was here since there wasn't exactly a known alien threat and something I'd been trying to do was remember how others had felt back on the Tardis. I had definitely felt something else there before I ended up in this town and while I had a feeling I might know what it was, it had helped me recognize what the Doctor felt like in my head. Depressed or otherwise, he was distinctly different from other people and I had hoped to capitalize on that distinction while searching for him here. I just hadn't found him until now.

I scrambled to my feet, very nearly falling as I tripped out across the road toward him. I faltered back when an angry driver nearly hit me in his Panhard & Levassor but managed to avoid any other potential injuries as I finally caught up with him.

"Doctor! God, it's about time I found you. You're—" I paused though, something rattling about in my head that something was wrong.

"Excuse me?" The Doctor questioned, his brows furrowed in confusion as he took a solid step away from me. "Do I know you?"

I opened my mouth, paused, and closed it as I looked him over again. He wasn't wearing his usual coat and his whole demeanor was off.

"Do you need a doctor?" He asked then as I tried to get my mind to work out what exactly was wrong here.

"Sorry, no. It's just… You are…"

He wasn't though. The man in front of me wasn't the Doctor. That mental signature that I'd been searching for wasn't there. He looked like the Tenth Doctor—sounded like him too—but there was no recognition. He genuinely had no idea who I was and right now, I had no clue who he was.

"You're… not," I murmured, eyeing him and taking a small step back myself. "Sorry. I… I made a mistake. I thought you were someone I've been… looking for."

"Ah, I see. Apologies then for… Well, not being them, I suppose," he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and glancing away.

"No. It's my mistake, Mr…?"

"Smith. John Smith," he said with a small smile of greeting, offering me a hand to shake that I hesitantly did. "And I do hope you find your companion, um…"

"Watkins," I breathed, slowly understanding now what was happening. "A-Ash Watkins."

"Right. Well, I wish you luck, Mr. Watkins. I best be off."

I nodded dumbly, watching him turn and head off back up the hill toward the young boys' school not too far from here. I hadn't even realized just where I'd been this whole time. More than that, I had somehow constantly missed seeing him or Martha or half the townsfolk I knew from the episode of Doctor Who. Or, not missed exactly. I could tell now that I had bumped into a few of the townsfolk while I'd been here but just didn't recognize them or think twice about how they might have been a little familiar. Not only that, but I had somehow been here for well over a month and not stumbled upon the Tardis. I knew it was just sitting in a shed somewhere waiting and had just missed it entirely.

I reached up and grabbed my jaw in my hand, pressing my fingers into my cheeks as I attempted not to grit my teeth in frustration at what I had somehow managed to do. I glanced back the way the Doctor—John Smith—had gone before stepping into an alleyway and sliding down toward the ground. Fuck. Seriously, what the hell? The episode where the Doctor and Martha are lying about their lives for three months? That's the episode I get stuck in early?

"He didn't recognize me," I murmured to myself, dropping my hand and tipping my head back to look up at the overcast grey sky just past the brim of my hat. "He's here as some school teacher and he didn't even recognize me?"

A bitter chuckle escaped me as the feeling of disappointment twisted and rolled in my gut. This was an early Tenth Doctor. Not Rose early, but early enough that I wasn't sure where he and I stood on our relationship. We'd gotten along well enough back with Shakespeare but that would have been a while before this. And the closest episode after this that I've been to was… A shiver went down my spine at the thought of the Master and the ripple of agony that had torn through my arm. I reached for the limb and squeezed it, reminding myself it was still there and that I was fine. It was a long while ago and entirely unhelpful. I wasn't in the right frame of mind to see how he treated me back then. There wasn't any time. I took a breath and let it out, releasing my arm and stepping back out onto the street.

The point was, there wasn't much I could do here. The Doctor wouldn't remember who I was until it was time and until then, there was little I could do to change that. I was here, surviving somehow, and I would have to keep doing that until I tripped to another time and place or until the Family of Blood showed up. There is one thing I can do though.

"Finding the Tardis would be nice," I muttered, picking at my dirty white button-up as I headed back toward the farm I worked on. "Food, shelter, a working shower…"

I sighed though, knowing that I wouldn't have a whole lot of opportunities to look. Spending all my free time searching meant the possibility of not having enough money for food if I failed. That, and I didn't have the first clue where to start. I just knew it was in a shed or a small barn and there were a dozen of farms in this area. The ship wasn't on the land I worked on but I couldn't just go wandering through people's property looking through their sheds. My only chance was finding Martha and having her show me or hoping that I would catch a hint of the Tardis mentally as I wandered through town between jobs. And here's hoping they've been here a while and I've just missed them. I don't want to do this for three more months.

John Smith had only been around for a few weeks when that strange man had rushed up on him while he was in town for a few things. He had wrongly assumed he'd be able to brush off the encounter as an honest mistake. Yet, he found himself going out of his way to go into town for small things on the off chance he might meet him again. He wasn't sure why but there was something about him that caught his attention. He just had the vague feeling he was utterly forgetting something and it had something to do with him.

He asked around a little, hoping that if he found out more about Ash Watkins he might have a better idea of what he was missing. Those in the school didn't know him well, spending the majority of their time on the grounds rather than in the town. They only knew him as someone who'd shown up and occasionally begged for work or money. The thought of the man being a homeless vagrant put a bitter taste in his mouth for some reason, which he chalked up to him feeling sympathetic for the man's situation. Those in town had far more to say and generally seemed to not mind the new addition.

The shopkeepers had nothing but praise and respect for Ash. Ash wasn't one to really explain how he'd fallen on hard times and he didn't go out of his way to gain sympathy from others. The rumor was that he was in town waiting for someone—someone he'd mistaken John for—and willingly worked whatever odd jobs people needed for a bit of money or a meal. At night, he would take shelter on back porches but would always ask permission before just settling in. The townsfolk appreciated his approach to things and welcomed him more and more. The baker down the street gave him extra food when he came across them without charge and the butcher happily offered to take him out for drinks on occasion, though Ash hadn't seemed fond. He wouldn't refuse though and remained respectful of everyone around, but generally, he worked in one of the fields nearby for a farmer. He used what little money he got to pay those who gave him handouts, even when they tried to refuse. He didn't like taking without giving something in return and it only made John more curious as to what drew him toward him.

He didn't see Ash again though for a few more weeks. He'd gotten busy and hadn't had a chance to drop into town again until he needed to buy a few books and have his coat repaired. The path from the school just happened to pass the farmers' fields and despite being distracted with his plans for the day, his gaze had immediately latched onto a figure toiling in the field. There were a few other men scattered about but he'd focused on one of them in an instant. Ash swung a hoe over his shoulders, hacking away at the soil with sweat rolling down his face. His expression was settled in a concentrated frown, brows furrowed with a smudge of dirt splayed across his cheek. He paused then, dropping the hoe to lean it against his hip as he reached up and took off his large-brimmed hat, wiping the sweat off his face with the crook of his elbow. John swallowed thickly, eyeing him as he squinted over at the sun and pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. Then, their gazes caught and John felt heat roll up his neck.

He hastily turned away feeling sheepish and embarrassed for being caught staring, but turned back when he heard Ash calling out. He waved over at one of the other farmers who nodded and Ash lifted the hoe to hand over to someone else before bounding across the field toward him. His heart raced to see the man approaching, struggling to place the feelings exactly but managed a smile when Ash caught up to him and stopped near him.

"Hello again," he greeted somewhat awkwardly.

"Hey, sorry," Ash replied. "I didn't expect to see you. Did you need something?"

"Um, well, no. Not… I just…" He hesitated before blurting out the thought on his mind. "Have we… met before?"

Ash looked at him in mild surprise and for a second, he swore he saw hurt flicker over his features. "No. Not other than a few weeks ago when I… mistakenly thought you were my friend."

"Right. Yes, of course," John murmured, feeling silly for having asked and a bit upset.

Almost like he wanted to be his friend.

He pushed the thought aside and was going to just be on his way but remembered what he'd found out about Ash. He looked over at him as the man plucked something off his rolled-up sleeves, eyeing his sunburnt skin and thin wrists.

"Do you… want to have lunch?"

Ash turned toward him in shock. "What?"

"Lunch," John asked. "I just thought… you've been working and I heard how you… Well…"

"You don't have to," Ash immediately refused, lifting his hands up. "Really. I get paid well enough usually for something small. There's no need for you to—"

"I insist," John pressed, knowing Ash was lying about how much he earned and how much he ate based on what the others in town said.

Ash didn't look thrilled but begrudgingly gave in and nodded with a small sigh. "Alright. If you insist, although…" He glanced down at himself and winced. "Apologies for this."

He was absolutely covered in dirt and grime from working and John doubted that he had any real way of washing. He opened his mouth, tempted to offer his own bath, but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if the school would allow it and let the idea fall away as they headed for the town.

"Were you… running errands?" Ash asked, drawing his attention toward the coat he had over his arm.

"Ah, yes. I just needed to drop off my coat to get mended and perhaps pick up some new books. Nothing important."

"You work at the boy's school, right?"

John nodded. "Yes. I teach; prepare them for what will be coming later on in their lives. And you?" He regretted it the second he asked, knowing Ash's situation. "I-I mean, before you were… before, um…"

Ash waved him off. "It's fine. I didn't do much before. Traveling, mostly."

"Not much money in traveling though, is there?"

"Yeah, well, it's nice though. Seeing and experiencing new things. Things I never thought…" His small smile faltered for a bit before he cleared his throat. "Anyway, before that though I was a student myself and had a small job on the side helping at a pet shop."

"What did you study?" John asked, interested in hearing about this mysterious man's life for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

Ash cracked a smile then, something teasing lining the edges. "Archaeology."

John tipped his head yet a small frown settled over his features when Ash chuckled, as though privy to an inside joke and finding his reaction amusing.

"Sorry. You probably find that a bit silly."

"No! Not at all. I just didn't expect… Well, I can hardly expect anything when we've just met."

"It's fine, really" Ash hummed, unbothered by his reaction. "I'm sure I hardly look like an archaeologist and I never finished. Got distracted while writing my final paper and never got around to completing it. Still, suppose I'm at least qualified to dig holes in the ground."

The joke was there but John felt there was something sad about what he'd said. There was nothing he could say though, and they took a moment to drop off his coat before stepping into a shop to eat. John ordered first and when he heard how little Ash was getting, he added an extra plate of food and insisted the man eat it all. Ash didn't argue, just rolled his eyes as they settled in to eat. They were quiet for a moment, just enjoying their meal before John couldn't help but pry a bit more.

"So, you're here looking for someone?"

Ash nodded, swallowing a mouthful of pasta before speaking. "Yeah. He's a bit late but he usually is. I just try to occupy myself until we can meet up."

"What about your family?" John asked, missing the way Ash paused mid-sip of his drink before continuing.

"Out of touch with them," Ash answered, voice blunt like a dull knife. "Once I started traveling, we lost contact and haven't been in touch since."

That surprised John. From all appearances, Ash looked like someone who'd be close with his family or at the very least, send them letters or something while out on his travels.

"Nothing? You don't have a… a brother or father who might—"

"No," Ash cut him off, stunning him for a moment at the hard look in his eyes that quickly faded into something more shameful as he turned his gaze back to his plate. "No, I don't think they'd want to hear from me and even if I wanted to, I couldn't contact them."

"That… That can't be true," John pressed, clueless to the emotions rolling through Ash at the thought of his family. "I'm sure they care and they're worried. You honestly wouldn't want to write to them?"

"My father was a piece of shit," Ash said then, silencing him with the bite in his tone. "He was manipulative, verbally abusive, and didn't care about anyone but his own stupid self. I put up with him for thirty years before finally seeing that he was so full of it. All he did was yell or throw things or put down stupid rules because we were all scared of him and he loved being in control. Can't dye your hair, can't cut it short, can't get tattoos, or wear anything but a dress to formal events. God forbid you liked the opposite sex or cared about trans rights or anything else. He could've died and I would've been happy. Honestly happy."

Ash went quiet then, his tight expression that had been glaring holes into his plate slowly falling away as his shoulders sagged. John wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't expected Ash to have a bad family life. No, he ignorantly thought the man was too nice to have grown up in one. It might not have sounded like there was physical abuse happening but it still wasn't great and he could see that it really affected him and had been for a long while.

"God, I'm a real piece of shit," Ash breathed, sinking back against his chair and turning away to look out the window; no longer hungry.

John shook his head though, everything in him telling him to stop his line of thought abruptly. "No. No, that's not true."

"I wished he died," Ash argued lightly, expression solemn and defeated. "I had days where I cursed him up and down and hoped it would be the day where he just had a heart attack from his unmanaged diabetes or choked on the food he was eating. I wouldn't—shouldn't wish death on anyone but… God, I don't know how he can stand me."

"Your companion?" John asked softly, uncertain of what to say and Ash hummed.

"He picks up all these great, amazing people. People who save lives and who care about even the most evil of creatures. I just… feel a bit inadequate, is all." He turned and offered John a small, bitter grimace of a smile. "Always thought he held onto me because of some misguided sense of obligation and here he is, doing it all over again."

John's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Ash waved him off though, standing from his seat, putting on his hat, and dropping some coins on the table. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

John scrambled up as well, double-taking at the money Ash left and grabbing it to try and give it back but the man was already making for the door. He groaned and just dropped the rest of the money on the table for the staff to pick up before hurrying after him.

"Mr. Watkins! Mr. Watkins, wait!"

Ash tipped his head back with a heavy sigh but stopped, turning slightly so John could catch up. He grabbed Ash's hand and put some money into it, making the man frown.

"I don't want your pity," he said as John shook his head with a frown.

"I'm not—Look, I said I would take you to lunch. I imposed on your time to talk with you a-and I feel I might have messed it up a little. Just… Just let me repay you for that."

Ash watched him for a moment before giving in and taking the money, stuffing it into his pocket, and turning to go again but John could feel that pull of reluctance burning in his gut.

"Wait."

Ash raised a brow as John fumbled for an excuse to meet with him again.

"I-I, um… I-If I get permission from the school, would you work for me?"

"I really don't think—"

"Please," he begged, hands clenching with a hint of desperation from some unknown source within him.

He needed Ash around. He needed him to stay because there was something important he had to tell her. So very important that it made his hearts burn and swell the moment she looked at him with those shimmering blue eyes. His thoughts cut off suddenly though. Her?

"I…" Ash started, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. "I already work at the farm. They've treated me well so… I don't want to leave them if it doesn't pan out and I can't do both."

"Something small," John pressed. "I-I'll ask if we need a gardener!"

Ash snorted with a small chuckle, making him stand a little taller with pride. He'd done that. He made him smile.

"Yeah, alright. Why not?" Ash gave in with a shrug. "I'll see you later then, Mr. Smith. I've got a scarecrow to put up in that field tomorrow and we can meet there if you have anything to tell me."

John nodded, grinning himself. "Yes. Yes, brilliant. Excellent. I will. I'll meet you there."

Ash smiled again and shook his head fondly before heading off up the street and John's smile didn't fade the whole way back to the school. Surely, he could find the man a home there.

I thought he was joking. More than that, I thought he wouldn't have succeeded in finding me a job at the boy's school but the following afternoon when I was finishing up the scarecrow out in the field, he came bounding up the slope with a big grin on his face. There was an interview I had to have with the head of the school and I was grateful the farmer I worked for let me get cleaned up beforehand, but I had somehow ended up as a gardener and would come in after I finished in the fields. John was over the moon about it but I had some hesitations.

For one, I wasn't a gardener. Sure, I helped out at the farm for whatever money I could get, but that was hard labor and one doesn't really need a whole lot of skill to plow a track in the ground or spread seeds over the soil. It required hard work, determination, and keeping my mouth shut when it came to complaints. Those more experienced showed me the harder aspects—how to properly pick plants for harvest, setting traps for rodents, and the specifics behind the fields we tilled and why we did it—but as long as I generally did what I was told, I did fine on a farm. Gardening was different. I struggled to keep plants alive back home, much less doing something like pruning and planting shrubs and flowers around the school. The headmaster didn't care but had sternly informed me that any sign of slacking wouldn't be tolerated and I would be fired if things didn't turn out how he liked. I'll have to ask the florist for advice, I guess.

The other thing was, I wasn't sure why John was so adamant about it. We barely knew each other and I didn't know why he suddenly took interest in me. I wasn't sure how the whole Doctor-John thing worked; if the memories trapped in the watch could leak out or if it was just happenstance that I had piqued John's interest. It was… awkward because I wasn't sure how to treat him. It was working out alright now—other than my little blow-up from lunch the day before—but I worried that I would treat him like the Doctor or spill something I shouldn't. As it is, the things I mentioned about my dad… He didn't question it then but I could end up saying things I shouldn't. I could slip up and call him the Doctor or could expose him too early to the family. I sighed heavily, crouched in the bushes near the side of the school and pulling out weeds from around them.

"I shouldn't have met with him."

"Asher?"

I flinched, turning cautiously only for the tension to roll off my shoulders at the sight of Martha standing there with a bucket and rag.

"It is you!" She said, sounding hopeful. "When did you get here? How?"

I smiled a bit and got up off the ground and started putting the weeds into a bag for disposal. "Been here almost two months. Popped up in the forest on the edge of town and have been getting by somehow."

Her expression faltered into one of shock. "Oh, my god. You've been here that long? With nothing?"

"I spent the last of my money back with Shakespeare apparently," I said with a chuckle and a shrug. "Been working at a farm up the road before I accidentally bumped into John."

"He's seen you then?" She asked, setting her bucket down. "What did he say? Did he—"

"He didn't recognize me," I replied, still a bit disappointed and I was certain she could hear it in my tone. "Told him I mistook him for someone else once I realized what was going on and where I was. Didn't want to cause trouble."

"But you're here," Martha pointed out. "I haven't seen you until just now."

"You can blame John for that," I replied, picking up my bag and grabbing her bucket to walk with her. "For some reason, he found me and took me out for some food, then offered to try and get me a job here. I told him not to worry about it. He must not know who I am for a reason, right? But he insisted and the headmaster took me in as a gardener."

"You think he's remembering things?" She asked and I hummed.

"Mm, no? I don't know how long you've been here but I don't think he'd remember me when the Tardis made up his memories and left me out of them. Could be some residual Doctor bits hanging about but I don't know how the whole process works. If he doesn't know who you are and you've been around him this whole time, why would he know me after just one meeting?"

"You're joking," Martha said then, drawing my confused gaze.

"Sorry?"

"You seriously think he'd remember me over you?"

I had no idea what she was talking about and she seemed to realize this and rolled her eyes.

"God, you're as bad as he is. Never mind. Look, we've only been here a month so we have to keep the whole Doctor thing secret for a while more," she said, taking the bucket from me and setting it down on the ground as I sighed, reaching up and taking off my hat to drag a hand through my hair.

"Joy. I was hoping you'd been here longer. I'm honestly a bit tired of working out on a farm. Really not my thing."

Martha snorted. "Yeah, tell me about it. Two more months of scrubbing floors and listening to kids make racist jokes. You've got it easy."

"Let me know if they mess with you and I'll scold them," I offered. "People here think I'm a guy anyway and the worst thing that will happen is I get fired."

Martha knelt down on the floor to get started but looked up at me as I put my hat back on and glanced toward the door, in case someone was heading our way.

"You have somewhere to stay?"

I shook my head. "No. Been sleeping rough, though some people let me inside if the weather's bad." I shrugged when she looked stunned. "I don't mind it much, though a shower would be nice."

"I'll show you where the Tardis is tonight. Two months though? Just… you doing odd jobs and sleeping in the streets? The Doctor would be so upset if he found out."

"Yeah, well, he's a bit busy, I think," I mused with a small smile, nodding toward the door. "I better go though before the headmaster gets on me for slacking off. Seriously though, if those kids give you a hard time—"

"I'll let you know," she said with a grin and I nodded, heading back out to work.

A shower was just what she needed to feel refreshed again after a long morning out tilling the fields. Asher wished she could enjoy it a bit longer but had to show up at the boy's school right after eating some proper food in the Tardis. She'd been absolutely starving and had possibly eaten a little too much, so she was taking her time to gather up her gardening supplies from the shed. Then, she tripped on a pipe that was sticking out.

She caught herself before she could fall, glancing around to double-check she hadn't been thrown into another time or place, and once she'd confirmed she was still there, she turned her glare onto the offending object only to pale. She'd knocked the whole pipe loose and it was dumping water all over the grounds. With a curse, she hastily found the nearest knob to turn the water off to that pipe and scrambled to head inside to find a wrench to fix it. The last thing she needed was to get in trouble for breaking things, whether or not the pipe had been improperly positioned.

She'd dug through a janitor's cupboard before finding what she hoped was the right size wrench, heading toward the door outside when there was a shout.

"Look out!"

She turned to see a figure falling her way down the stairs and her eyes went wide. Instincts kicked in and she hastily dropped the wrench and took a step up the stairs to grab the man only for his weight to hit her hard. Her foot slipped off the step, twisted under her, and with his weight on top of her the two hit the ground. She groaned alongside the man and peered an eye open to see who it was. He pushed himself up slightly, wincing and bringing a hand to his forehead before locking his caramel eyes on her blue ones in shock.

"Mr. Watkins?"

"Of course, it's you," Asher grumbled, letting out a sigh and wincing when he shifted and placed an elbow into her ribs. "Oi! Watch it!"

"S-Sorry!" John squeaked, scrambling to get his bearings and push himself up off her as footsteps hurried down the stairs toward them.

"My word. Are you alright?" Nurse Joan Redfern asked, reaching out and wrapping her hand around John's elbow to assist him as Asher pushed herself semi-upright with a small wince.

She reached around behind her and pulled out the wrench she'd landed on, scowling at it and tossing it aside before starting to get to her feet herself.

"I'm okay, Nurse Redfern," John pressed, waving at his forehead. "Just knocked my head a little."

"Then, all the more reason we should get you looked at. Are you okay, sir?" She asked Asher next who waved her off as she got to her feet.

"I'm fine. Bit bruised but it's okay."

"We should check you over as well—"

Asher shook her head though, as she picked back up the wrench, hiding a wince. "I said I'm fine. Go take care of John."

Joan looked between the two men given the familiar way he addressed him but John wasn't paying attention.

"Mr. Watkins, you should really—"

"I've got work to do," Asher insisted, offering him a small smile after catching sight of his worried expression. "It's fine, really. I've knocked out a pipe and need to fix it before the headmaster finds out. You go on ahead and get checked over."

John hesitated, looking ready to argue but Asher didn't give him the chance, lifting the wrench in a wave and stepping outside. Joan nudged John along to head up to his room while flagging down a boy to gather the books that had been spilled.

"Do you know him?" Joan asked as she checked the bump on his head. "Apologies if I am overstepping but you both seemed rather familiar with one another."

"Oh. Oh, no. Not really. He bumped into me in town, you see. Mistook me for a friend of his and… we just kind of got on? I met with him for lunch and found his situation to be rather difficult, so I offered to see if the headmaster might let him work here."

Or so he said but there was something off about their relationship that didn't quite fit with his story. People don't just offer jobs to others after just meeting and Joan knew how stubborn the headmaster was about hiring people he hadn't vetted himself. That meant John had pushed the issue with him in order to have the man work here and that didn't make sense. Joan wouldn't press it though. It wasn't her place and she went to change the subject to something else only for the door to burst open.

"Is he alright?" Martha asked, having rushed to John's room as soon as she'd heard he'd fallen down the stairs.

"Excuse me, Martha. It's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking," Joan scolded and Martha couldn't help but be a bit smart with her response.

"Sorry, right. Yeah." She went back to the door and knocked on it before continuing. "But is he all right? They said you fell down the stairs, sir."

"No, it was just a tumble, that's all," John waved off, mind drifting toward Asher as Martha and Joan bickered about proper treatment. "Actually, would you mind checking on someone for me, Martha?"

Martha stopped scowling at Joan and turned toward him in confusion. "Sir?"

"There's a man I met recently. He's the gardener now, here, I mean. But I fell on him when I stumbled down the stairs. He hurried off back to work without getting looked at, so I'm a bit worried. Could you—"

That woman, Martha mentally grumbled, nodding. "Of course. I'll check on he—him."

John grinned, pleased and feeling a bit relieved. Martha knew a little about tending to injuries so it would help ease his mind if she went after Asher for him. "Excellent. Yes, great. Would you? I do believe he mentioned fixing a pipe outside."

Martha nodded and moved toward the door, glancing back at John as he winced when Joan pressed on his bump. She had a bad feeling about them and her own thoughts drifted toward Asher as she headed out to find her, she wondered if she should maybe point out the possible competition edging its way into their lives.