where there ain’t no rain or snow

by helsinkibaby

Summary:

Three years ago, Tom Callaghan left the small Outback town of Cooper's Crossing to work in famine- stricken Africa, leaving behind both a community that worshipped him and the woman he loved.

When his work in Africa leaves him burned out and broken, he returns to Australia and to the life he left behind. At first, not much seems different but Tom soon finds a lot more has changed than he first thought, especially for his old flame, Chris Randall. He'd expected her to move on with her life, but what he discovers surprises him.

He's spent three years thinking about her, wondering what would happen if they ever met up again. Has too much water passed under the bridge? Or do second chances really happen?

Notes:

• Inspired by [Restricted Work] by weaselett (Log in to access.)

Thanks to weaselett for the wonderful art for the story!

 

It wouldn't be a lie to say that, during his time in East Africa, Tom thought about Cooper's Crossing a lot. And not in the way he used to when he was living there, when he could at any time list the things that he hated about the place, the things that drove him straight up the wall. Instead, he thought about the people he'd left behind, like Vic and Nancy and their warm welcome at the pub, Kate and Gibbo and the way the Nomad used to ring with laughter, even if it was the punch drunk kind, on way too many clinic runs. He thought of Violet Carnegie and her special brand of well meaning sticky-beak, of Joe and Hurtle and the two old codgers sitting outside the pub all day every day.

But most of the time, when he thought of Cooper's Crossing, he thought of Chris.

Not how things were when they ended, tears and shouts and recriminations. Before that, when he'd been able to casually sling an arm around her neck, pull her close to him and have her smile up at him as if he'd hung the moon. He remembered all the little things, like the look in her eyes when they met his from across the room, how soft her hair was as he twisted the curls around his finger, the way her laugh felt against his skin as he pulled her close to him in the dark of the night. He remembered all those things and he missed her. He missed her more than he ever thought possible.

So when Africa got too much for him, when he couldn't stand the death and the hardship for a moment longer, there was only one place he was going to go.

Except when he got to Broken Hill, he knew he couldn't face the last leg of the journey. He was too raw, too broken. He didn't want anyone to see him like that, especially not Chris. It was easier to get a job as a station hand at Windara - the owner, Jim Burns, was new since his day - and he didn't recognise the name Tom Callaghan, certainly didn't associate it with the Royal Flying Doctor Service. Waking up at dawn, hard manual labour all day, falling into bed exhausted at night, it gave him time to think, to reflect, to try to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life, because he certainly wasn't sure if he ever wanted to practise medicine again. And if, every once in a while, he heard the familiar sound of an aircraft flying overhead, he didn't look to check. That wasn't part of his life any more.

Until the day that it was.

Until the day that he was lying in the back of a Ute, bleeding from a leg wound, courtesy of a fence post digger that had slipped from his hand. Jim had taken one look at him and called for the Flying Doctors and Tom had gritted his teeth against the pain and hoped that there had been a complete change of personnel over the last three years.

Except it really wasn't his lucky day.

Because the second he heard her voice, his heart started to pound and his hands got clammy and it was nothing to do with his injury. Instead, as he looked into her eyes, it was like falling into a time warp, where nothing had changed even though he knew that everything had. It was almost vertigo inducing, like the world was spinning around him and he was in danger of slipping and falling away.

Being back in the Crossing only intensified that feeling. "Nothing changes around here but the date," he told Chris when she'd told him that Vic and Nancy were planning a welcome home party at the pub for him. He'd gone, only under duress, only because of the look in her eyes when she spoke to him about it, but it had been too much - too many people, too much noise, too much food - and he'd had to leave, knowing that everyone would think him rude. He'd gone back to Windara hitching a ride in David's small plane, but wasps in the air vent, an allergic David being stung, had meant he'd had not only had to perform an emergency tracheotomy but he'd had to be talked down into landing the plane by Chris - and when, exactly, had she learned how to fly?

That might have been his first inkling that a little more than the date had changed.

Still, he'd returned to Windara, sure that only by being away from everything he knew would he find what he was missing. Except Cooper's Crossing had a way of calling him back, and it was hardly any time at all that he accompanied a Windara station hand to the town and, having made sure he was settled in the hospital, made his way back to the base. He expected to see Chris there but she was nowhere to be found and he felt that strange sensation that he'd seen the first day they'd been reunited. A feeling where even though everything looked right, something was off and when he heard where she was, the world seemed to tilt that little bit more on its axis. Oh, he knew that he didn't need to worry - yes, Chris might have spent all night in the bush, looking for a missing girl and her father, but she was with Dougie Kennedy and if there was a better tracker anywhere in the surrounding district, Tom had yet to meet him. Dougie would look out for her, keep her safe, Tom had no doubt of that.

And yet, he worried.

He worried enough that he didn't go back to Windara even though he had every opportunity. Instead, he stuck around, even volunteering to go on the plane when he heard that Chris had found the girl and her father and they were going to pick her up. Sam, the new pilot, had given him a grin and driven them both to the airfield where he'd run through his pre-flight checks in record time. Tom hadn't said anything about that, though, because goodness knows, Gibbo had been known to do it quickly when there was an emergency at hand. Sam wasn't as chatty as Gibbo though, dark shadows underneath his eyes and he looked tired. Which made perfect sense - apparently, Tom wasn't the only one who'd had a restless night worrying about Chris.

Tom hadn't realised how worried he'd actually been until he stepped off the plane, saw Chris and Dougie walking towards him, carrying Cathy on the stretcher. For the first time in twenty four hours - more that that, years if he was being honest with himself - he felt like he could breathe easily, felt a smile coming to his face as he unashamedly let his eyes roam over her body, seeing for himself that she wasn't injured. Tired yes, pale yes, but otherwise perfectly fine.

Then her eyes met his and her steps faltered for a moment. He could read the surprise in her eyes as clear as day, but there was something else there, something he hadn't seen in three long years and the sight of it was enough to take his breath away.

Relief.

Happiness.

Love.

He never thought he'd see that again and the sight, the realisation gave him pause, literal and physical. Only for a moment though, and then he was moving towards her, taking the stretcher from her hand and walking with her to the Nomad. Sam greets them with a smile and Chris gives him one in return. "Everything ok?" she asked and Sam chuckled as his hand found her shoulder.

"Sure," he said. "You probably had a better night's sleep than Emma and I did."

Which was something that Tom didn't even pretend to understand but then they had Cathy on the plane and they had to tend to her, to say nothing of her suddenly run away father to deal with, so he didn't have a chance to dwell on the conversation. Then, once they got back to the hospital, there was a tearful reunion with Cathy’s mum and then Chris was getting her settled in her room and Tom knew that no matter what he might think, what he might want to say to her - and to be honest, he wasn’t entirely sure he actually did - that was not the time to do it.

He was standing at the reception desk, talking to Tom and David, the latter having made a great recovery from his tracheotomy, when Chris came back out, smiled wanly at them. She looked exhausted, Tom thought, and he didn’t miss how she leaned into Geoff when he briefly looped an arm around her shoulders. They were talking about Cathy and her treatment when the double doors nearest reception swung open and Emma walked in, making Tom blink in surprise.

Not because he could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times he’d seen Emma at the hospital - it wouldn’t surprise him if she was there to see Sam after all. But because on her hip she was carrying a baby who looked to be about five or six months old, a little girl if the flowery dress and pink cardigan that he’d bet a month’s salary had been knitted by Nancy Buckley were anything to go by. His surprise must have shown on his face because the others all turned to follow his gaze, their conversation stopping when they saw Emma standing there.

For some reason that Tom couldn’t fathom, Emma looked at them all, then right at him, then back to Chris. Only for a split second, then she said, “Tom... I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Tom nodded, shrugged one shoulder. “I missed the plane back to Windara yesterday,” he said, omitting that he’d done so on purpose. He gestured towards the child in her arms. "I see congratulations are in order... I didn't know you and Sam had a baby."

There was a moment of silence then, the air molecules seeming to shift in an awkward pattern and Tom understood without quite knowing how that he’d managed to put his foot in it somehow. The silence was seemed to go on forever though it could only have been seconds before Chris spoke.

"Megan's not Emma's baby, Tom," she said as she walked towards Emma, and as it had so often since he'd been back in Cooper's Crossing, back around Chris, it felt as if the world suddenly tilted on its axis. The child Emma was carrying had reacted immediately to Chris's voice, her head snapping around in that direction, her hands shooting out the moment her eyes landed on Chris, her little body leaning towards her and making Emma lurch forward, visibly tighten her grip. And it became clear to Tom then, because that smile, those eyes, they didn't belong to Emma. Or to Sam, for that matter. No, those were Chris's green eyes, Chris's smile, even Chris's brown curly hair that he was looking at and he wondered how he'd ever entertained, even for a second, the thought that this child could belong to anyone else. He didn't even need Chris's next words, a quiet, "She's mine," to confirm it because when she reached out, took the child from Emma's arms and held her so that they were face to face, the resemblance just couldn't be denied.

There was a dull roaring in his ears and Tom heard, as if from very far away, Geoff clearing his throat behind him. "David," Geoff said, "I need a second opinion on a patient. If you don't mind?"

"What?" There was an edge in Geoff's voice and David sounded confused at first, then quickly added, "Of course, no problem." Tom heard their footsteps disappear, but his gaze was locked on Chris and her daughter. Like looking through a telescope, they were all he could see, so he didn't miss the way Emma was looking at Chris, the stricken look on her face.

"Chris, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice low like she didn't want Tom to hear what she was saying. She wasn't to know that Tom's entire focus was drawn to Chris and the child - her child - in her arms, his senses heightened to pinpoint accuracy. "If I'd known Tom was here, I'd have kept her at our place for longer... I just thought you'd want to see her..."

"I did." Chris reached out with one hand, squeezed Emma's forearm. "You did the right thing. Besides..." She sucked in a deep breath, her eyebrows lifting as her lips curled in a smile, Chris's standard expression when she had to face something she didn't particularly like. "He had to find out sometime."

Emma still looked like she wanted to cry. "I'll see you later?"

Chris nodded, lifted the baby's hand in a wave as Emma left. Tom expected her to turn to him then, to talk to him, but she didn't. Instead she looked at the baby, ran her hand over the back of her head before pressing her to her shoulder in a hug. She closed her eyes and Tom could see her take a deep breath, then another. He should probably look away, he knew, let the mother and child reunion take its course.

But he couldn't take his eyes off them.

When Chris finally did turn towards him, her eyes moved behind him, a knowing smile crossing her lips when she saw that he was on his own. He smiled back, took a step towards her. "So I guess congratulations are in order," he said and her smile grew as she glanced at the baby. "She's beautiful, Chris... she looks just like you."

Her head snapped back towards him then and he wanted to kick himself. Not that he was an expert at relationships - he'd been pretty bad at them even before three years of celibacy in Africa - but even he knew that you couldn't say something like that to a married woman. Especially not if you and she had once been a stone's throw away from the altar.

"I wanted to tell you." Chris stepped towards him, keeping her voice low. Tom couldn't blame her - he was fairly sure that someone, somewhere, was keeping tabs on this conversation and that in short order it would be reported upon and dissected far and wide via Bush Telegraph. "There just never seemed to be a right time-"

"It's ok." He cut her off and he didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. After all, he understood. "I guess I was a bit of a mess the last time we spoke... but I'm happy for you, Chris. Truly, I am."

Her smile looked uncertain as her eyes flicked to the baby who was pulling at the collar of her shirt. "Thank you."

Tom rubbed a hand over his chin. "So, who's the lucky bloke?" She swallowed, shifting on her feet and he forced a smile to his face. The world might be shifting rapidly under his feet, but one thing that had never changed, no matter how much time had passed, how many miles were between them, was that he wanted her to be happy. He'd been gone three years, after all, of course someone had swooped in and won her heart. He should have known, should have expected it. And yes, he might be eating his heart out right now, staring what might have been right in the face, but he'd be damned if he'd make her feel guilty for moving on with her life and knowing Chris, that was just what she would do. "I'd quite like to meet Mr Chris Randall."

Chris's eyes widened as his meaning hit. "I'm not married, Tom," she said quietly, not dropping his gaze, her expression cautious, wary almost. He couldn't help himself, his gaze dropped instantly to her left hand, currently wrapped around the baby's leg as she carried Megan on her hip. Sure enough, her ring finger was bare. While he was processing that, she continued, "It's just the two of us."

"The two of you?" Tom heard the surprise in his voice as he echoed her words and she must have too because her cheeks flushed. "I mean-"

"I know what you mean." She didn't sound angry, despite the words. She didn't sound hurt or happy or sad, or anything at all really. Her voice was flat, emotionless. "But we do ok. Don't we, little girl?" She shifted the child so that she was holding her by the hips, extending her arms so that Megan was up in the air, looking down at Chris as a high pitched squeal emerged from her lips. The smile that lit up Chris’s face at the sound was the brightest Tom had ever seen, was matched by the one on Megan's and in that moment, Tom felt like he could watch the two of them forever and never get tired of it.

The sense of longing, of what might have been, swept over him again and he had to swallow hard against the lump that rose up in his throat. He looked down, all the better to hide it, and when he looked back up again, Chris was rearranging Megan so that she has holding the child in front of her, Megan's back against her chest. Megan clapped her hands together with a squeal of delight as she looked around her, taking everything in, and then her eyes landed directly on Tom. He half expected her to frown, to try to move closer to Chris, maybe even cry - he knew that you never could predict how babies would react to a stranger. Instead, she grinned broadly and reached out her arms to him, chubby hands opening and closing as she leaned forward towards him.

Tom paused for a moment, but only a moment. Then he saw, as if they belonged to someone else, his arms reaching out towards Megan, whose gummy grin grew even wider as she squealed with delight. He lifted her from Chris's arms, shifted her against his chest and stared down into the eyes that were so like her mother's. She gave a little chuckle, reached up to pat his face before leaning her head down onto his shoulder and letting her arms go around his neck, like she was giving him a hug. Something tugged painfully in his chest and it was hard to breathe for a moment and it didn't get better when he looked back at Chris. She was staring at the two of them, eyes wide and dark in a suddenly pale face and Tom had the feeling that her thoughts mirrored his exactly.

If only...

"How old is she?" He heard his own words breaking the spell, and Chris's deep breath was audible before she spoke.

"Almost seven months now." Tom blinked at that. As a doctor, he'd held more than his fair share of babies and while he knew there was a world of difference between the babies he'd held in famine stricken Africa and the bouncing bruisers he'd been accustomed to in the Outback, Megan still seemed a little smaller, a little lighter than he would have expected for a child her age. He glanced down at her, more to check his thoughts than anything, and found them confirmed. Not only that, he also found a healthy stream of drool running down her chin and onto his shirt. Chris noticed it too, laughed a little breathlessly as she reached out and rubbed Megan's chin. "Sorry, " she said. "Teeth."

"Ah." Once Megan felt the touch of her mother's hand, she suddenly didn't want Tom any more, reached out to Chris with a pout that could mean only one thing. "I should let you go," he said as Chris took Megan back. "You must be exhausted."

Chris nodded but didn't make any moves towards the door. "I think we'll both take a nap later," was all she said. Then, after a pause, "If you wanted to call around later... to catch up properly... if you're not heading back to Windara, that is..."

"Not until tomorrow." He was pretty sure Jim Burns wouldn't mind; after all, since the other man had found out that his new station hand was the illustrious Doctor Tom Callaghan, he'd kept on asking him what he was doing out in the bush mending fences instead of people. "And I'd like that. Same place?"

Chris gave him a small smile, almost sad. "Same place. I'll see you then."

With a wave from Megan, she headed for the door and Tom very slowly and very carefully began to count to fifty before he considered making any move to follow her. He'd only got as far as thirty five when David appeared beside him, white coat gone, medical bag in his hand. "I'm heading back to town," he said. "You need a lift back to the pub?"

Tom didn't bother to ask how David knew where he was staying. This was Cooper's Crossing after all. "Depends," he replied and David tilted his head, a small furrow appearing on his brow. "Have you checked the vents for wasps?"

It took a second, a second where he wondered if it was too soon to make a quip like that, but then David laughed. "Funny," he said, evidently taking that as a yes, and the two of them fell into step and made their way out to the car park. "I never did thank you for that actually," David said as he turned the key in the ignition. "Saving my life, I mean."

Tom frowned as he propped his arm up against the window, looked out at the familiar surroundings. "I didn't do much."

David's tone hovered somewhere between amused and amazed. "An emergency tracheotomy, then landing a plane when you've never flown before?"

"Chris was the real hero." Tom had seen a lot of sights in his life but seeing that little plane out of the window, knowing that she was inside it, was one of the better ones. "I didn't even know she could fly." He shifted in his seat, stared out the window. "I guess I've missed a lot."

The noise that David made at the back of his throat spoke volumes. Tom almost expected him to pick up on that remark, but he didn't. Instead, David said, "She told me she'd taken lessons... but I'd never seen her fly before that. I guess she doesn't get much of a chance now." Which made sense. Being a Flying Doctor and a single mother couldn't leave much room for hobbies. "I've really only been getting to know her since she came back to work," David continued, and Tom knew an in when he heard it.

"How long have you been in Cooper's Crossing?"

David narrowed his eyes, as if he was counting back, trying to figure it out. "I was brought in as Chris's cover," he told Tom. "So, what... A little over six months?" His eyes flicked to Tom, then back to the road quickly as he registered Tom's hard double take. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just thought... Chris told me that Megan is almost seven months old." And while Tom was never what you'd call au fait with the ins and outs of statutory maternity leave, and three years in Africa had done very little to remind him of it, he was reasonably sure that if David had been brought in to cover for Chris, he should be been there more than a couple of weeks before Megan was born, maybe as much as a month if the brass wanted a smooth handover. Which meant that if Megan was almost seven months old, David really should have been in the Crossing for longer than that.

So, Tom thought, either Chris had got her dates wrong - highly unlikely, because she was both a mother and one of the most organised people he'd ever met - or David had.

Or, he realised, as David glanced at him with a definitely nervous look, there was a third possibility.

"Yeah," David said slowly. "That's right." He swung his gaze back to the road and this time he didn't look away again.

"David..." Even at the sound of his name, David didn't blink, just swallowed hard. "What aren't you telling me?"

David's sigh echoed in the car. "It's Chris's story, Tom... Not mine. You need to ask her."

The rest of the journey passed in silence and Tom didn't miss the look of relief on David's face when he pulled into one of the parking spaces at the front of the Majestic.

Tom offered to buy him a drink as thanks for the lift but David shook his head, muttering something about wanting to take a shower. Which left Tom sitting at the bar, accepting an orange juice from Nancy, who hovered near him as he took the first sip. "You're staying another night then?"

He nodded. "I missed the Windara plane. That's ok, isn't it?"

Nancy nodded so quickly he was surprised her head didn't fall off. "Can I get you something to eat?" she asked. "It's almost lunch time, you must be starving..."

Some things, Tom thought, really did never change, namely that Nancy knew everything and was constantly trying to mother the staff from the base. After a gap of three years though, it didn’t bother him as much as it once had. In fact, despite his less than grateful reaction when they’d thrown him a party on his initial return, he was coming to realise just how much he’d missed it. "Thanks, Nancy." She handed him a menu, stayed where she was while he read it. Or at least pretended to read it - Nancy wasn't the only thing that hadn't changed in three years.

"They found young Cathy then?" Nancy's fingers twisted in the tea towel she was holding, an almost nervous expression on her face. When Tom nodded, she continued, "And Chris got back ok?"

Tom heard the shift in her tone when she mentioned Chris's name, knew what she wanted to ask. "She left the hospital just before I did." Before Nancy could say anything else, he added, "Emma met her there with the baby... Megan, isn't it?"

He knew full well it was and he was pretty sure Nancy knew it too, but the older woman's shoulders relaxed as she breathed a sigh of pure relief. "So, you've seen her then."

"Yeah." Tom reached for his juice, took a small sip and forced it down past the lump in his throat. "She's a pretty little thing. Looks just like Chris."

Nancy nodded vigorously. "I've always said that, right from the start. Little angel."

"Friendly too," Tom told her. "Took one look at me and put her hands out, didn't make strange at all."

"Well, she's the town's baby, I've always said that too." Nancy clicked her tongue. "We all stepped in to help Chris after everything she went thro-"

"Nance." Vic's voice off to the side made them both start. His customary glower seemed even more pronounced as he stared at his wife. "Can I have a word?" It didn't sound like a request and Nancy's lips thinned into a barely visible line as she moved towards him. When Vic spoke again, his voice was lower but Tom still had no trouble hearing him. "Don't go shooting your mouth off, love... Let them sort it out themselves."

Nancy fixed him with a look that would have had lesser men quaking in their boots. "I'm just saying, he needs to know-"

"The only thing he needs to know is whatever Chris wants to tell him." Vic shot a look in Tom's direction and Tom looked down at the menu quickly. They probably knew he was listening to every word but it didn’t pay to advertise it. "Let her do it on her own terms... she deserves that much."

If Nancy's huff of breath was any indication, she didn't entirely agree with him, but she wasn't going to argue about it either. Instead, Tom heard her footsteps coming back in his direction. "So, Tom, what can I get you?"

It was as if the whole conversation about Chris had never happened but Tom, his curiosity now well and truly piqued, had lost his appetite. "You know something, Nancy?" He slid the menu back across the bar towards her. "I'm not actually that hungry after all. I think I might take a walk... See the sights. I'll be back later."

The smile on Nancy's face could have powered the district for a month. "I think that's a marvellous idea."

It was more than a fair walk to Chris's house from the Majestic but Tom didn't rush, or at least if he did, he didn't notice it. His mind was a jumble, trying to piece together what he knew about Chris and Megan, trying to fill in all the blanks. He couldn't make it make sense and by the time he got to Chris's house, knocked on her door, he was more confused than ever.

It took her a couple of minutes to answer the door and he was almost ready to turn back the way he came when he heard the handle turn, looked down into Chris's surprised, but happy face. "I wasn't expecting you so early," she said as she opened the screen door, stepping back to let him in and he blinked once, thinking for the first time that this might not be the best time to visit but she was being too polite to say so.

"You weren't asleep, were you? Either of you?"

She laughed as she led the way down the hallway and into the kitchen. "No... But lucky for you, you've just missed lunch." He could see that for himself as Megan looked up from her high chair as he walked in, her beaming grin just visible through the food smeared all over her face. "Puréed apple and pear mash. A big hit, all evidence to the contrary." She wiped the baby's face with a muslin square, Megan making some very displeased sounds in response. "Have you eaten?" she asked him as she did so. "I could make you a sandwich... I promise, you don't have to have the purée..."

"I'm not hungry."

Something in his voice made her go very still, froze her hand on Megan s face for a second. Then she sighed, dropped the muslin on the kitchen table and turned away from him. "No," she said softly. "I'm not really either." When she turned back, her eyes were dark and huge and, if he didn't know better, he would have said scared. "You must have a lot of questions."

"You don't have to tell me anything... it's not like I think you owe me any explanations..."

"I know." Her calm voice cut across him. "But you're going to hear the whole story sooner or later... I'm guessing you've already heard bits and pieces?" He opened his mouth to deny it because he hadn't exactly heard anything of note, but closed it again before he could speak. The smile that played across his lips made circumspection worth it. "I'd rather you heard it from me." Scooping Megan up, she said, "Let's go into the sitting room."

It had changed a little since he'd last been here and he tried not to look at a particular part of the floor where he could still see the ghostly image of a shattered wine glass. There was a playpen in one corner and Chris deposited Megan in one corner of it, handing her another couple of toys to join the ones already there. She sat down at the edge of the couch nearest to the playpen and after barely a moment's thought, Tom sat down beside her.

He didn't say anything, just waited for her to speak and, after a long pause and a deep breath, she began. "Megan's father is a man called Mike Lancaster. He's a geologist... we met at a fund-raiser for the RFDS; he was working out on the gas fields. He was funny and charming... a bit of a flirt... and he made no secret of the fact that he was interested in me." A sting of jealousy flared up in Tom's throat and he quashed it ruthlessly, made sure no trace of it showed on his face and he kept his lips firmly clamped shut. It wasn't his place to be jealous - he'd made his choice long ago, now they both had to live with the consequences. "He had to travel for his work, back and forwards to the gas fields, back to the city but I didn't mind that. It was nice to be chased... to feel wanted." She looked down, cheeks flushing. "I didn't mean-"

"I know." Because sly barbs had never been Chris's style. She was a straight shooter, if she had something to say, she wasn't shy about coming out with it. It was one of the things he'd loved about her.

"We did the whole long distance thing for almost three months, seeing each other whenever he was near here. And I was really falling for him, really thought it could be forever." That flare of jealousy rose again and this time it was harder to push back. "That's when he told me he was married."

The word rattled around in Tom's brain for a few seconds before it settled down and made sense. "Married?"

Chris's cheeks were even darker now, and not from embarrassment. "He and his wife - Monique - had an understanding, he told me. She was French, very Catholic, so divorce was not an option. However, being French, she didn't mind if he had other women, as long as he was discreet about it." Her lips twisted and she looked over at the playpen, smiled at Megan cheerfully chewing the ear of a plush koala. "I didn't know what to do... I mean, I loved him. Or I thought I did. But I didn't want to be the other woman for the rest of my life. Plus I wanted kids, and I'd never have that with him." Another twist of the lips. "Or so I thought."

There were a million questions on Tom's lips but he stayed quiet. "So, long story short, we kept things going for another little while. I'm not proud of it." She added the last in quickly. "But that's what happened. I don't know how long we would have kept going on like that, whether I'd have got sick of it or not, but Mike forced the issue by bringing his two daughters for a visit."

Tom knew he was gaping but he couldn't seem to close his mouth. "He brought his daughters to meet you? Here? In Cooper's Crossing?"

A sad smile crossed Chris's lips. "You understand." She shook her head, stood up and began to pace. "Mike never did. He didn't see anything wrong with just appearing at the airfield, two little girls in tow. Gorgeous little blonde heads, big smiles, beautiful manners, the kind of kids you'd be proud to call your own...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes drifted to the playpen in the corner and for just a second, Tom could see the barest shimmer of tears starting to form. Then she blinked, visibly shook herself and continued, “But you can imagine the talk."

Tom could; he just didn't want to. "I can't believe he did that."

"He was used to the city, the way things are there." Once again, he found himself biting his lip as Chris made excuses for someone who, although he'd never met, he already hated. "He didn't think... and even once he was here, he wouldn't be told." She sighed, moved to stand beside the playpen, looking down at Megan who was oblivious to her presence. "Anyway, the girls wanted to go home... Monique was sick, they wanted to be with her. So he went back... and when he came back here again, alone this time, he told me that he loved me. That he wanted us to be together and he was going to ask Monique for a divorce."

"But he didn't."

"Oh no, he did. And she did just what she always said she would do if he did that... she took the girls back to France without telling him. He was distraught... he didn't want to be apart from me but he couldn't live without his girls."

"So he left you?"

Chris shook her head. "I told him to go. I knew if he didn't, he'd end up hating me and I couldn't live with that. So he left, and that should have been that. Except for a few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant."

She turned her back to him then, reached out and ran a hand over the top of Megan's head. "What did he say when you told him?" The urge to fly to France and punch this Mike's lights out was growing ever stronger. Maybe Sam would fly him there. The new pilot looked like he'd be a good man to have in your corner in a fight, he might even help Tom out.

"I didn't." He must have looked as surprised as he felt at that because when Chris turned and looked at him, she laughed softly. "The whole reason he left was because I didn't want him to have to choose between two different families on two different continents. How could I turn around less than a month later and put him in an even worse position?" She crossed the room to sit back down beside Tom, shrugging one shoulder when she did so. "It was easier this way."

"Easier?" He'd heard of baby brain, wondered was this some sort of delayed response. "Being a single mother in an Outback town where gossip is the local pastime?"

Chris was smiling at that. "Well, I didn't say easy," she allowed. "There was a lot of talk, a lot of second glances... and third, and fourth. Some of the older people didn't want me treating them any more." Shadows fell in her eyes as she said that and his heart ached for what she'd had to face, because he'd bet every last dollar he had that she wasn't telling him the half of it. "Geoff and Kate were amazing... so were Sam and Emma... DJ and Vic and Nancy... but it was tough."

Her voice trailed off and she shifted slightly on the couch. Her mood seemed to shift too and with it, all the air molecules in the room and Tom felt a shiver run down his spine. Looking down, he could see Chris's knuckles were white and he knew without knowing how that whatever she was going to say, he wasn't going to like it.

"Chris?"

Her name from his lips seemed to bring her back to reality with a visible start. "It was tough," she said again. "Female doctor, pillar of the community, you know the usual. For a while, I thought I'd have to go back to the city. Dad said I could live with him while I got myself sorted out and I was tempted, I was... and then..." She drew in a deep breath, let it out in a rush as she said, "Then I got sick."

The word hung in the air between them and Tom felt himself grow cold all over, despite the heat of the afternoon. "Hyperemesis?" he guessed and another one of those funny little smiles came to her lips.

"If only." If possible, the words made him feel even worse because if nine months of constant nausea and vomiting were a happy alternative, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what she'd been facing. Still, she told him. "An intramural pheochromocytoma."

For a moment, Tom couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. When he could, all he could do was say her name, reach out and close his hand over hers. All too easily, he could picture what she was talking about, could picture her aorta, the tumour wrapped around it and he knew exactly what type of surgery would have had to be done to remove it. To have all that happen would be bad enough at any time, but when pregnant?

His stomach churned and he was very glad he hadn't eaten anything.

"We didn't know what it was at first. I was tired, nauseated, not sleeping well, cranky and snappy... I put it down to stress, to hormones, to feeling like everyone was talking about me which of course they were." Chris's voice seemed to come from very far away and he forced himself to focus on it, to listen to her words. "It was Geoff who insisted that I have a blood test; just to be on the safe side, he said. I told him he was being an over-protective big brother and that I knew what I was doing. He said he knew what it was like to not notice something until it was too late and he wasn't doing that again. Of course, he was right... except before the results came back, I collapsed." His fingers tightened on hers and she patted his hand. He couldn't miss that her skin was icy cold. "I went tachycardic in the middle of a radio clinic. Poor DJ... I've never seen him so scared. I couldn't breathe, my heart was racing, then she got into distress..." There were tears in her eyes and she had to stop, look down to catch her breath. "Anyway... they got me to the hospital, stabilised us both, then Geoff got on to Sydney, got the blood test results rushed through. Once we knew what it was, he got a friend of his to take me on and I went to Sydney..." She shuddered. "Complete bed rest, they gave me injections to develop her lungs... and at thirty-three weeks, they delivered her by c-section. I had two more weeks after that, then they did the heart surgery." She shrugged, smiled brightly even though her eyes were still glittering with tears. "And now here we are. And now you know."

He was speechless, settled for squeezing her hand and shaking his head. "You needn't look so worried," she continued, her tone lighter now, but he still remembered what false levity sounded like and he knew it when he heard it. "I'm healthy, so is Megan... I do half shifts mostly, try not to do any long clinic runs, and there are plenty of people who help out with minding her." Nancy's words about Megan being "the town's baby," suddenly made a lot of sense. "It started when word got out about my condition... apparently life threatening illness when pregnant cancels out judgement over single motherhood and adultery. Who knew?"

Tom shook his head again. "I don't know how you can joke about it."

This time, her smile was slightly more bitter. "I don't have a lot of choice." Just as quickly as the expression came across her face, it left again and she pushed herself to her feet. "Besides, how can I regret anything when I have this face to look at, hey?" She lifted up Megan who beamed in delight, her tiny hand reaching out to tap Chris's face. "I wouldn't change a thing."

Except, when she turned to Tom and their eyes met, he saw a shadow in hers. Only briefly and then she looked down quickly, at the ground rather than her daughter. Tom's stomach twisted as he sucked in a deep breath, recognising the lie for what it was. He'd always been able to read Chris and a gap of years hadn't dimmed the ability one whit.

There was something she would change.

Something he'd change too if he could, something he wasn't ready to acknowledge, to deal with, not just yet.

He was about to say something but then Megan looked over at him, gave a little squeal and instantly held her arms out to him, straining in Chris's arms to get to him. Without conscious thought, he found himself closing the distance between them, reaching out and taking her from Chris, swinging her a little as he did so. Her giggles were music to his ears, maybe to Chris's too if the smile that reappeared on her face was anything to go by.

He stayed there for another hour, catching up with Chris, bouncing Megan on his knee,the two of them passing her toys to keep her amused. Only when she started getting ratty, when he noticed the dark shadows becoming ever more pronounced under Chris's eyes - it wasn't late, but a night asleep in a Ute in the middle of the bush was hardly a proper night's sleep - only then did he stand up, make his excuses and tell her that he'd see her later.

He didn't go straight back to the pub though. Instead, he did exactly what he'd told Nancy he was going to do, walked around the town, taking in the sights, seeing what had changed and, mostly, what hadn't. He'd made his decision before he walked back into the Majestic that night, and when he woke up the next morning, having slept on it, he found he hadn't changed his mind.

So when Kate and Geoff walked into the base that morning, found him waiting there, requesting an application form, he knew he was doing the right thing.

And when Chris hugged him tightly, beamed up at him, he knew he was.

That feeling only increased over the next few weeks and months, as he settled back into Cooper's Crossing and back into life as a Flying Doctor. It was as busy as ever - it turned out that the brass had decided that since they had three and a half full time doctors where, back in Tom's day, they'd only had two, they could cover a wider area and extended their purview accordingly. Back in the day, Tom had been the boss after Harry Sinclair's retirement, had enjoyed a lot of autonomy over in Africa so he'd been a little worried about his ability to receive orders rather than give them. It turned out, though, that Geoff was a good boss, one who listened to his co-workers and gave weight to their opinions. Not only was he a good boss, he quickly became a good friend, as did David and Sam. It took longer for Tom to get used to DJ, the new radio operator being as far from the quiet and serious Joe as it was possible to be but Tom realised quickly that the younger man's quirky manner and light-hearted attitude hid a huge heart, that DJ was a man who'd do anything for his friends.

He was reminded of that one day as he sat at his desk, finishing up some paperwork. Lost in concentration, he jumped when he felt a tug at his trouser leg. Looking down, he found himself looking into Megan's smiling face. He must have looked as surprised as he felt because her smile actually widened and she giggled, a stream of bubbly drool sliding down her chin. "Hello, little girl," he said, pushing out his chair and reaching down to scoop her up. "What are you doing here?"

Megan reached up and tapped his cheek with her hand, babbling away to him in her own language. He nodded seriously as if he could understand her. "Oh, is that so?" Her head turned towards the papers scattered across the desk, her eyes lighting up when she saw his stethoscope in the corner. Her hand reached out for it but his reached further and he lifted it up and handed it too her, watching her as she turned it in her hands, very interested in the rubber tube and the cool metal. "You gonna be a doctor like your mum?" She didn't reply. "Well, if you could read this paperwork, you might think twice..."

Making sure she was comfortably settled on his knee, he held her securely with one arm, using the other to make notes on his reports. They'd only been like that for a few minutes when he heard DJ's voice sounding panicked. "Megan? Megan?"

"She's in here, DJ." Tom barely got the sentence out before the door, slightly ajar, burst open and DJ appeared, pale of face and breathing hard.

"How'd she get in here?" he demanded, as if Tom had something to do with it. "I swear, I took my eyes off her for two seconds while I answered a radio call; I forgot she can crawl now... Isn't a crawl supposed to be slow?"

Tom chuckled as he looked down at Megan, currently twisting his stethoscope around her hands. "Not always." He'd seen Megan in action the previous night when he'd been at Chris's house for dinner.

Relief etched in his face, DJ chuckled too. "So you're telling me we're rearing an Olympic sprinter then, Doc?" As he spoke, he came around the side of Tom's desk, reaching to take Megan from him. The child didn't take too long to let them both know what she thought of that idea, her lower lip sticking out as she shrieked with obvious unhappiness. DJ dropped his hands instantly, eyes going wide as he stepped back and Tom reacted instinctively, letting his pen fall and scooping her up, turning her to face him.

"Maybe a doctor," he said, giving the younger man a smile. "Look, she's happy out here, I don't mind watching her. It's probably easier for you with the radio anyway..."

DJ nodded, his brow furrowed in a frown. "Chris just had to call over to the hospital... she said she wouldn't be long..."

He sounded doubtful but Tom took no notice, turned Megan back around and sat her back on his knee. She grinned and actually giggled at DJ who suddenly looked more confused than anything else. "If you're sure..."

"We'll be right," Tom said, picking up his pen and bouncing Megan on his knee all in one movement, barely noticing as DJ backed slowly out of the room.

He didn't think about the look DJ had given him until a couple of weeks later when he saw it again. That time it was in Sam and Emma’s back yard, at a barbecue celebrating Emma’s birthday. Tom was standing beside the barbecue, enjoying the chance to talk to Sam outside of the plane and the base and a clinic run. They were swapping tales about the most unusual clinic runs they’d ever had when Tom once again felt a by now familiar tug on the hem of his trousers. He knew what he’d see when he looked down and he wasn’t disappointed, Megan grinning up at him cheekily. Sam laughed with surprise, shook his head. “Someone’s keen on you, Tom,” he observed and Tom shrugged as he handed Sam his beer, then leaned down and scooped up Megan, settling her on his hip.

“Nice to know someone is, I suppose,” he said, pulling down Megan’s dress which had ballooned up around her chin. “Where’s your mum, little miss?” He received a steady stream of babble for his troubles, some syllables of which sounded like “ma-ma” and he smiled. “Oh, I see.” Glancing over at Sam, he saw the other man grinning at him.

“You look pretty comfortable there,” he said. It was an innocent enough comment but there was something behind the smile, something hiding in his eyes, that Tom couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“She’s no trouble,” he answered, knowing that Sam and Emma watched Megan regularly, had even kept her overnight on occasions when Chris had been kept out or the plane had landed too late to disturb the baby. “You know that.”

"No argument here." Sam reached over and tickled under Megan's chin, making the child squeal with delight. But when he reached his other hand over too, making to take her away from Tom, Megan reacted just as she had when DJ had tried it, with a squawk of disgust and a pout that could be seen from space. Sam's eyebrows shot towards his hairline and he dropped his hands in a hurry, stepping back. "I've just never seen her get quite so attached to anyone is all."

There was definitely a question hiding there somewhere, if not a judgement, but Tom was saved from having to enquire about it when Chris came over to them, her brows knit in a frown. "Everything ok? I thought I heard-"

"We're fine." It was Sam who spoke. "Little miss just didn't seem too happy with the food choices over here..." He jerked his chin towards the barbecue and if Chris noticed anything amiss with the scenario, she didn't comment on it.

"Lucky I've got something nice and sweet in the fridge for her then, isn't it?" She grinned at Megan but didn't make any moves to take her from Tom. Instead she looked up at him and smiled. "Do you want me to take her?"

Tom didn't blink, just shook his head. "I'm fine," he told her. "You go relax, enjoy yourself."

Chris tilted her head. "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure." He caught one of her hands with his free one, squeezed gently. "Trust me, I'll find you if she needs you."

"Ok." Chris returned the squeeze before moving over to Kate and Emma who were standing a bit away, observing the whole scene with obvious interest. The second Chris reached them, the two of them began to draw her further away, Kate throwing a narrow eyed look over her shoulder. Tom frowned, wondered what that was about, but when he turned to Sam, the other man was concentrating on the barbecue, staring at the meat cooking as if the world would end if he took his eye off it for even a second.

For some reason, Tom felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, felt as if there was something he was missing.

But he didn't figure out what it was until a couple of weeks later when Kate walked into the base holding Megan. She and Geoff had had a day off together and they’d offered to take Megan for Chris while she and David did a clinic run together. They’d been expected back in the next half hour but when Kate walked in and saw the look DJ and Tom were giving her, she stopped dead in her tracks. “What?” she said, holding on to Megan as the baby lurched towards Tom the second she saw him.

“We just got a call from the McGuinness station... looks like Mary’s gone into labour; Chris and David are diverting there...” DJ sounded apologetic as Kate’s face fell.

“They could be there all night,” she exclaimed and DJ knew better than to deny it. Sighing, Kate shook her head. “Well, bang goes that romantic dinner Geoff’s spent the day making...” That was said with a roll of her eyes and Tom knew why - Geoff had been regaling them all with his menu plans for the last week and they’d indulged him, knowing that he and Kate having a whole day off together didn’t come along that often and wasn’t even guaranteed when it was rostered.

“I’ll take her.” The words were out of his mouth without any conscious thought on his part and he’d swear that Megan knew what he meant because she squealed just as he said them.

DJ and Kate didn’t share her enthusiasm though, not if the looks they were giving him way anything to go by. “What, in your bachelor pad?” Kate asked but Tom had an answer for that.

“You’ve a key to Chris’s place, don’t you?” He knew she did, knew she or Geoff had often let themselves in when they were taking care of Megan. Kate nodded slowly and he did likewise as he reached for Megan. “I’ll grab that off you, let myself in, get her settled.”

Kate bit her lip and exchanged a look with DJ as Megan went happily to Tom. “Are you sure you’ll be ok?”

Tom resisted rolling his eyes, but only just. “I know where everything is, and knowing Chris, tonight’s dinner just needs to be heated up, right?” Kate crossed her arms over her chest, as good as a yes. “I know how to change a nappy, I know how to put her down, we’ll be fine.” He rubbed Megan’s cheek and she giggle. “Won’t we, missy?”

Kate pursed her lips, exchanged one more look with DJ, who, had been surprisingly - and uncharacteristically - quiet through the whole conversation. "Well-" she began, and that's when DJ began to speak.

"Give him the bag, Kate," he said, reaching out and hooking one finger over the shoulder strap. "You and Geoff deserve your night together... besides, if we have to listen to him planning a second romantic meal for the two of you, I'm not so sure I can take it, you know what I mean?" His eyes danced as he teased her and Kate didn't try to hide her eye roll.

"If you're sure." That seemed to be all the convincing she needed and DJ took the bag with a whoop, draped the strap over Tom's shoulder.

"You'd both better get a wriggle on," he said, with a waggle of his eyebrows. "It's almost dinner time."

Kate didn't have to be told twice and neither did Tom. Car seats and house keys exchanged, he drove to Chris's house and, as he'd seen her do so many times over the last few months, he got Megan's dinner ready, popped her in her high chair and fed her. Most of the food even went into her mouth and was swallowed, which he took as a huge victory. Afterwards, they played with her toys a little, then he cleaned her up, put her into her pyjamas and got her ready for bed. Which was when the wheels came of the wagon because she did not want to settle in her cot for him at all.

After four attempts at putting her down, each one resulting in louder wails than the last, he gave it up as a bad job, did something that he knew Chris would surely not approve of, but, with a bit of luck, would never find out about. Lifting Megan up, he carried her back into the living room, settled himself on the couch and laid her on his chest, her head on his shoulder. Resting one palm on her back, he ran the other over her head, whispering shushes into her hair and rocking her gently. It wasn't long before she started to settle and with the warm weight of the baby against his body, her heartbeat against his palm, he felt his own eyes growing heavy.

The next thing he knew, there was a pulling sensation on his chest and he woke with a start. His first muddled thought was that Megan was falling and he tightened his hold on her reflexively. Then he realised that there was another figure in the room and he blinked in the dim light to see Chris bending over him, obviously trying to lift Megan without waking her. "Sorry," he whispered, loosening his grip and helping her to raise the child. Between the two of them, they got her into Chris's arms and when he dropped his, they both stayed in exactly the same position, both of them staring at Megan, watching for any sign that she might wake up. When there was none, Chris straightened slowly, taking a step back as Tom sat up, stretching stiff muscles and rubbing his face.

"She wouldn't settle in the cot," he told her, unnerved by her utter silence, her complete stillness. Like he did so often around her when he felt like that, he kept talking. "I thought bringing her out here might help... I guess we both fell asleep."

"It's fine." But her voice, slightly thinner than usual, said something else entirely. So did her pale face, her red-rimmed eyes. "I'll put her down... you don't have to stay, you can let yourself out..."

Turning on her heel, she moved away from him quickly and all Tom could do was stare after her, his jaw dropping. Not once, in all the time he'd known Chris, had she ever spoken to him like that and he didn't know why she would now. When his wits returned to mildly functioning levels, he stood, made his way into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. Then he made his way to the door of Megan's room, found Chris standing beside the cot, staring down at Megan. Her arms were braced on the cot rail, locked at the elbows, and her shoulders were taut with tension. He knew better than to touch her but he did take a couple of steps into the room. "Kettle's boiling," he said, his voice so low that he could barely hear himself. She heard him though, he could tell from the almost imperceptible shift in her stance, from the shudder that he saw ripple across her skin. "Cup of tea?"

She turned her head towards him then and the naked pain he saw on her face was enough to take his breath away, make him forget his earlier thoughts about not touching her. "Chris..." But when his outstretched hand was almost at her shoulder, she jerked away, shaking her head almost violently.

"Not here," was all she said and she left the room, leaving him no choice but to follow her and, after a last backward glance at Megan, pull the door shut behind him.

When he got to the kitchen, she was pacing backwards and forwards. "I wasn't expecting you to be here," was her opening gambit and he narrowed his eyes.

"Kate was going to mind her when she heard you were delayed, but she and Geoff had dinner plans... apparently he'd spent most of his day off cooking her favourite meal. When I heard that, I said I'd take Megan. I didn't think you'd mind."

One of Chris's hands covered her lips and she looked up to the ceiling. "You don't understand."

"No I don't." He took a step closer to her and this time he did touch her, both hands going to her shoulders. "Talk to me, Chris... tell me what's wrong."

With a breath that sounded more like a sob, she reached up and threw his hands off her. "Do you know what I was doing this time last year, Tom?" she asked and the apparent non sequitur left him completely lost. "I was in a Sydney hospital room, flat on my back, praying that my heart condition wouldn't put her life in danger... that we'd both make it through in one piece, that I'd get to hold her, to raise her." The words conjured a vivid picture in his mind, and he knew how she must have been feeling, could see that same feeling in her eyes right now. "I was so scared, Tom... every minute of every day. I couldn't sleep without waking up from nightmares where I'd hear a baby crying and I'd be searching for her but not be able to find her... and all I wanted..." She squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body trembling with emotion. "I didn't want Kate, or Geoff, or my dad... I didn't even want Mike. I wanted you."

The words hit him like a slap to the face and he just stared at her as she opened her eyes, saw the dumbstruck look on his face and turned away from him. "I wished you were there so many times, Tom... wished it was your baby I was carrying. Dreamed of it sometimes. These last few months, seeing you with Megan... and then tonight, walking in here, seeing the two of you asleep on the couch together..." She braced her arms on the kitchen counter the way she had against Megan's cot and her shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath. "It's everything I ever dreamed about, Tom, and I can't have it and it's not fair."

And suddenly, there it was. What he'd been missing all this time, the reason DJ and Sam had looked at him strangely, the reason Kate had been so reluctant to let him take Megan that evening, romantic dinner or no. What he'd felt every time he'd held Megan, every time he'd sat on Chris's couch and bounced her on his knee. Every time he looked over at Chris and saw her smiling at him.

"Why can't you?"

He didn't think about the words, they just fell from his lips, hung in the air between them. Chris's breath caught audibly in her throat and she turned slowly to face him, almost in slow motion. The look on her face was caught somewhere between wariness and fear and it almost broke his heart.

"Why can't you have that?" he continued, closing the distance between them. "Why can't we have that?" His hands went to her shoulders and he felt her trembling. For a second, he thought that was why her head was moving from side to side; it was only when she tried to step back, move away from him, that he realised differently.

"You shouldn't say things like that-" she began but he didn't let her finish. Instead he tightened his grip on her shoulders, made her stay where she was, face him.

"Do you think I don't mean it?" She broke their gaze, looked down at the floor and he knew he'd guessed right. "I mean it, Chris." He moved one hand to under her chin, tilting her head back up, his thumb tracing a path up and down her jawline. "I know I broke your heart when I left... and I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again. But you need to know... I never, not once in the last three years, stopped loving you." Her hand reached up, fingers closing over his wrist, but she didn't make any moves to force his hand away. Instead she was staring into his eyes, brow furrowed and he remembered well what she looked like when she was trying to work something out. "I thought about you all the time... maybe that's why I didn't come back here straight away after I came home, I didn't think you'd want to see me and I knew, no matter what I'd seen in Africa, I couldn't cope with you rejecting me."

"Tom..." Her voice was low, full of emotion and she was looking at him the same way she had the day he kissed her goodbye at the airfield and left Cooper's Crossing for Africa.

"If the last few months have taught me anything," he told her, "it's that I love you. I will always love you. And I love that little girl in there... like she was my own." A sob, hastily stifled, burst from Chris's throat. "I know you have no reason to believe me, and every reason in the world not to... but if you give me a chance, Chris, I swear to God, I'll never hurt you again. Either of you."

Chris didn't answer for what seemed like a very long time, although it could only have been moments. Even when she did answer, it wasn't in words. It was in a lessening of tension along her shoulders, a relaxing of her frame as she leaned ever so slightly into him. It was in the way that her lips curled in a smile that reached all the way up to her eyes, the way she tilted her head in what could only be an invitation.

It may have been a long time, he may have been out of practice with this, but Tom wasn't a complete idiot.

With a smile tugging at his own lips, a laugh of relief barely being kept back, he leaned in and brought his lips to hers, his free hand sliding down to the small of her back and pressing her closer against him. Her lips stayed curled under his as her fingers moved through his hair, her touch sending shivers down his spine. His hand skated a path from her jaw down along the side of her neck and he felt her shiver too, felt her gasp as he passed the spot that, back in the day, had always made her particularly weak in the knees.

He wanted to keep kissing her for the rest of the night, the rest of his life, come to that and it was only with supreme willpower that he pulled away. Only as far as resting his forehead against hers, their bodies still tightly melded together, but still, he felt the pull back towards her, strong and almost magnetic. Chris, meanwhile, looked up at him, her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes dancing and it struck him, in a way that it hadn't since he returned, that he hadn't seen her look that happy in a long time.

"So," he murmured, brushing his lips over her forehead. "I take it that's not a rejection then?"

She shook her head slowly, biting her lip. "I love you too," she said quietly, her fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. He'd worked that much out - or at least he hoped he had - from her earlier outburst, but hearing it from her own lips had his heart stuttering in his chest. He hadn't realised how much he'd wanted to hear those words, how much he'd needed to hear them. "I never stopped either. I just never thought you'd come back to Cooper's Crossing... and even if you did, I thought..."

He didn't need to hear what she'd thought, could guess it well enough. Nor did he want to dwell on what might have beens not now, not when their future looked so bright. So he kissed her quickly, pulled her into a hug. "Don't," he said. "That's over and done with. And I don't want to rehash the past, Chris... not now."

"No." Her voice was lower than he'd heard it in years. "Me neither." She tilted her head towards the kitchen door, as if listening for something. There was only silence though and when she turned back to him, there was a question in her eyes. "Will you stay? For a little while anyway?" She added the last hastily, sounding almost embarrassed. "You don't have to..."

"Chris." He stopped her again, and again with another kiss. "I'll stay as long as you want me to. I'm not going anywhere. Not any more " Another kiss and he glanced over her shoulder towards the counter. "Now... I think I promised you a cup of tea..."

Chris laughed, like she couldn't believe he'd actually said that, but he was a man of his word, intended to prove that to her, with the little things as well as the big. So he made her a cup of tea, made himself one too and they retired to the couch where they talked, trading occasional kisses, until their cups were empty and their hearts were full. She leaned in close to him, rested her head on his shoulder and he held her tightly in his arms until he could feel his eyes beginning to grow heavier.

Her voice sounded sleepy too when she asked him again, “Will you stay?”

She didn’t have to ask him twice.

 

The next morning, Tom smiled when he woke, propped himself up on one arm and looked down at Chris who was still sound asleep. Part of him wanted to let her sleep, wanted to stay looking at her like this for as long as he could. The other part of him, though, the part of him that won out, knew it wasn’t likely to be long before Megan woke up and he knew that that would bring an end to whatever quiet moments they might have together. So he slowly reached out his hand, brushed a non-existent strand of hair back behind her ear and she made a little noise in the back of her throat as she pushed against his hand, nuzzling into the touch like a kitten. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking against the morning light and when they met his, a slow smile spread across her face.

“Good morning.” Leaning down, he brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Sleep ok?”

There was nothing slow about the spread of her smile that time; it was bright enough to dazzle. “Better,” she said, her hand landing on his elbow and sliding up his arm. The touch of her skin on his had goosebumps running up and down his arm and he couldn’t stop his shiver. She noticed it too, raised one eyebrow. “Cold?”

Considering that she was in pyjamas while he’d slept in only his underwear it wasn’t actually outside the bounds of possibility. She was teasing however and he knew it but it didn’t stop him from pulling her closer against him. “If I said yes, would you warm me up?” He buried his face in her shoulder then and it was her turn to shiver.

“I’m glad you stayed.” Her voice was soft and quiet and not, he thought, from fear of waking the baby.

“Me too.” He shifted then, moved them both so that she was lying on her back, with him propped up on his side looking down at her. One of her hands traced a path from his elbow to his bicep and back, her smile fading slightly. Tom could see a flicker of doubt starting to surface in her hazel eyes and he tilted his head, felt himself frowning. “Chris?”

Much to his surprise, Chris looked down at her pyjama top, plucked at it with the hand that had been moving over his arm. Given the choice, Tom knew which one he preferred. “You don’t mind-" she began and just like that, he understood.

There hadn’t been any big discussion the previous night - he’d simply taken off his clothes and climbed into bed, watching as Chris turned her back to him and pulled on her pyjamas. He'd been a little surprised, he had to admit - back in the day, she'd worn pyjamas but only when Gibbo was around. On the nights when the pilot had been doing his own thing, it had been quite another story, and usually once inside Tom's bedroom, the pyjamas didn't last long. But then, as she'd turned to face him, her right hand hand had reached up and across, glancing down the left hand side of her pyjama top, very near to where he realised the scar from her surgery would be. It had struck him then that no-one else would ever have had an opportunity to see it and her nerves had made complete sense to him. He hadn't said any of that, though, had just smiled and pulled back the covers, holding out his hand in an invitation she wasn't long in accepting.

"I don't mind," he said firmly now, with barely any discernible pause. Her laugh sounded more surprised than anything and he kept his face straight, kept looking into her eyes. "I know I can't just waltz back into your life and expect to pick up where we left off. We can take things as slow as you like." His fingers played with the short hair at the nape of her neck. "Besides, I don't think Megan's quite ready for a sibling."

His quip had the desired effect of breaking the tension in her eyes. "I'm not ready for that yet either," she admitted and the addition of the word "yet" made his heart stutter. "But I do want this, Tom... I want us."

"You have it," he promised her, leaning down to seal it with a kiss.

She responded enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around his neck, not resisting when he rearranged himself so that he was lying on top of her, her legs on either side of his waist. Her hands roamed across his back while his stayed firmly at her sides and he might have been brave enough to try moving them had it not been for a very distinctive cry from further down the hall.

He sprang back quickly, looking around as if Megan was about to magically appear beside them and Chris gave him a smile that was part rueful, part amused. "That sounds like her wide awake and hungry cry," she told him and he didn't blink.

"So you feed her." He was already throwing the covers off, eyes scanning the room for his clothes. "And I'll cook for us." He was across the room with his shirt in his hands but when he turned to her, she was still in bed, just looking at him. "Chris?"

Her cheeks flamed scarlet and she began to move. "You don't have to-" she began but stopped when she saw how he was looking at her.

"Team work." His voice was as gentle as he could make it. "You're not alone any more, Chris."

If there were tears in her eyes as she walked past him, he knew better than to comment.

Just like he knew better than to say anything when she took her time getting Megan ready, so long in fact that he had two plates of scrambled eggs ready and waiting for them on the table. Her eyes were a little red, her skin a little blotchy but she still grinned at the little shriek of joy that Megan let out the second she saw Tom, laughed as the baby lurched towards him with arms outstretched. He laughed too as he reached over and plucked her from Chris’s arms, lifting her high in the air as she giggled. Bringing her down to her hip, he balanced her carefully before slipping an arm around Chris’s waist, pulling her against him and leaning down to press his lips against hers.

He felt her smile at the same time as he felt Megan pulling at his shirt, probably not happy to be ignored and he smiled into the kiss too, feeling for the first time in a long time that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Home.