"So you're a police man then? Well, there are definitely worst things to be." Martha grinned at that, because it made sense. Despite the fact that she didn't know that he was an agent in his real life, the doctor had pegged him for being a copper. She was firmly expecting that when she found her home, she'd find a doctor's coat--Martha was going to have a rather rude awakening.
Martha Jones was trusting the reactions of the people around her: Deb, Jim and House, to know that it wasn't how Derek Morgan actually was. If she'd had any suspicions that it was how he normally reacted, she would have quickly turned on her heel and left. But she couldn't, or wouldn't blame him for the effects that Peaksville tended to have on them. It wasn't fair for her to do so, especially when Martha'd had experience with people around her being possessed before.
"Derek," her voice was soft, and she reached over and touched his arm quickly. "It's alright. I know it wasn't you." After the time of keeping quiet about things, Martha always attempted to be open and honest about things. "You don't need to blame yourself. I don't." And she didn't, not the slightest bit.
He simply nodded at her summation. Derek had been a police officer in Chicago before rising to the Bureau. Acting sheriff in Peaksville would no doubt be a wild ride thanks to West. The revolver given to him was not his preferred firearm, and it would more than likely be utterly useless, but Martha was right--there were worst things he could've been. And who knew how long this charade would go on.
Her touch, however, was as appreciated as unexpected. To go as far as reaching for him had to mean that she genuinely forgave him. Yet he found it hard to look her in the eyes. Derek glanced long enough to say, "Thanks." He looked to the pavement then down the street as he continued. "Hope nothing like that ever happens again."
The brief recollection forced him to remember Deb. She had saved him and Martha. He felt shitty for how bitter he had been about what he had witnessed on her DVDs. Yet he couldn't forget what he saw. Derek pushed thoughts about Deb out of his mind for the time being. He had to sort that out with her and not let his resentments seep into being there with Martha.
"I was an FBI agent before this nightmare. Before that, I was a cop in Chicago. No idea if that's how West decided on the uniform. Deb was a cop too, but I haven't seen her since she decked him. Her things are in the same room with mine. I didn't bother to explore the house any. Didn't feel like staying in anymore. I spent hours watching our DVDs. Needed some air."
His stone started very even and stately. At the mention of Deb, Derek nearly muttered until he began talking about the house he was in. He was back to speaking in the wind when discussed the DVDs. He glanced at Martha. "I think I heard something about you being a doctor. Maybe your key works over by the doctor's office."
"Of course. I mean it, you know." And she did; Martha Jones didn't blame him and never would. "Even if it does happen again, Derek, it wouldn't be your fault. And we'd know right away if something like that was reoccurring, and we'd know how to treat it." Like most things in her life, what had happened to Derek had come down to something that could be treated and fixed. In this case, the treatment would be to find someone who willingly would have sex with him, and that would probably come down to Debra Morgan.
If she came back. Martha had little doubt in her mind that those people who'd gotten violent with West yesterday had ended up in the cornfield. She was just grateful that Jim hadn't ended up there as well. She was rather fond of Jim, and Martha was a bit worried about him as she wandered around looking for her home. Hopefully, she'd run into him sooner rather than later.
When he said that she was a FBI agent, Martha grinned at that. ""I know, well, I suspected about the two of you. Spending time with people in uniform, ya tend to get a bit of a sense about these things." However, the grin slipped a bit when he said that he hadn't seen Deb since she decked him. "She'll be back. They'll all be back. I'm certain there in the cornfield making deals as we speak. I'm certain she'll be back sooner rather than later, love." Another hand on his, and she just held it for a moment, trying to figure out a way to calm down. She didn't know what was on those DVDs, but it certainly didn't sound good.
But there were tasks to focus on, and Martha was good at them. "I thought as much, but it didn't work to open anything over there."
He had no idea what she meant about treating him, should he fall into that depraved rage again. But he believed her. That was all that mattered. Whatever the treatment, he would readily take it. Derek would choose death than become a monster.
Derek nodded along to acknowledge Martha about her sense for members in law enforcement. Well, he suspected she meant law enforcement. He considered bringing up that Ziva was NCIS but it didn't feel appropriate. It would suffice that Martha believed those who disappeared would all return.
"Well, let's see where it does work at," he replied, reaching and giving her hand a quick, soft, affectionate squeeze in return before commencing the walk down Main. It felt wrong that he hadn't said more. With eyes down the street, he looked over at Martha once more. "You're good people, Martha. If there is any light in this dark place, you're definitely part of it."
A genuine smile finally formed on his lips. It wasn't his biggest or brightest but the unhappiness that he felt for the past twelve hours eased in the exchange. He was definitely a tactile person. Touch and understanding meant a lot. In this world away from his world, it really wasn't all a nightmare.
Martha laughed when he said that she was good people. She knew that she was; she had always known. Arthas (was it Arthas? it was so long ago) had told her once that she was like a priest from his world, and he'd spoken it in a way that was both a compliment and a curse. Derek's was definitely a compliment. She squeezed his fingers again after he'd squeezed hers, and then she grinned quickly to him. "Thank you, Derek. I mean that." Her voice was soft and she laughed. "I do try, you know."
She decided to make the effort of lightening the mood a bit. "So, does this mean that we should call you 'Sheriff' now, Derek? " She reached out and touched him again, because Martha Jones tended to touch people. For her, touching people was more than just a gesture. A touch could heal; it could make things better; it could ground you when things were going wrong and it could even make your blood pressure go down.
"I must say," she added after a second, her voice light and teasing. "You do wear it well, you know."
He smiled amiably at her word of thanks. There was no reason to thank him. She was the good person. Derek couldn't help wonder why he hadn't talked to her sooner. Not just since his return from the impromptu honeymoon but even before his raging libido. Martha was easy to be around. It felt good to be around her. She was nurturing, and while he would never readily admit to it, Derek needed some tenderness. He could most definitely do with some flirting.
"Are you flirting with me, Mizz Jones?" he laughed. "You know I'm a married man. And a man in uniform. Both which I'm fully aware of being a huge turn on for women. I'm happy to oblige if you wanna keep taking a look." Finally. Martha managed to get a full smile from Derek. He playfully flexed a bicep then held his elbow out for her to hang onto. There was no real prowess in his reply but for the moment, he shook the dark clouds that stormed overhead.
"I suppose I am flirting with you, Sheriff. How can I not? Look at you in that uniform." Her voice was light and teasing and pleased sounding. And she gestured towards his uniform with a grin. Flirting was normal; flirting reminded her of things that were far removed from Peaksville. Things and people and a world that was beyond the bubbled center of this damned main street. Flirting reminded her of Jack and of the Barge and things she missed.
There was a bit of a pointed stare and Martha took the elbow that he offered her, and she wrapped her hands around it. There was a bit of ohing and ahing when she watched it, and then there was a quick fanning gesture towards her face as if she was feeling faint because of his strength and general manliness.
"Oh, ho!" he exclaimed jovially. Derek mentally chastised himself again for not having sought out Martha sooner. "You know, I don't EVEN care if you're mocking me right now. Let me have my moment of pure unadulterated admiration."
His smile was a mile wide and there was a pep in his step. "I do wear it well, don't I?" he asked rhetorically with the same teasing quality in his voice. "You might make a dishonest man out of me yet, Sweetheart."
They were fast approaching a residence and Derek reached over with the opposite hand, holding it out for her key. The house looked far from lived in. He wondered if they were obligated to specific residences. What would be the harm in Martha staying with him if she disliked her place? Aside from possibly making Kirk wary, of course.
That made Martha laugh quickly and she watched him out of the corner of her eye as she walked with him. It was easy to see why people had been so worried about that night, because she was finding that she quite liked Derek Morgan; he definitely reminded her of Jack.
"Definitely do wear it well. And don't ya tempt me, Derek. I'm not the cheating kind." The same harmless flirty tone was in her voice and she gave his arm a squeeze before the key was handed over to him.
"This really doesn't look all that lived in, yeah? I hope we're not going to be obliged to make these places habitable." She doubted it; West didn't seem like he was big on preliminaries.
His hand clutched at his heart, feigning hurt when Martha labeled herself faithful. Derek quickly smiled before his hand even lowered from his heart and chuckled at their antics. He walked up to the house after she handed over the key. "If it makes you feel any better, in addition to being a law man, I renovate properties in my free time. If this is your place, I can help fix it up."
The key didn't work. "But this isn't your place." He tried the knob although the lock didn't turn just to see if the property opened. Denied. "Huh. I thought no one locked their doors in the fifties." Derek shrugged and finally turned back to Martha, a hint of a smile coming back on his lips. "On to the next."
He held his elbow out again, a more obvious smile forming with a wink thrown in. "I'd be a stupid man not to keep offering. Who wouldn't want a beautiful woman such as yourself hanging off their arm." Derek was definitely shaking some of the demons off his shoulders.
When he clutched at his heart, Martha giggled quickly. She pressed her hand to her forehead after a minute. "Oh how ever will I cope when you look so wounded at my words?" She giggled again at the end of the statement, and then nodded when he said that he would help her fix it up.
Knowing that Derek and Debra had been assigned a room to share, Martha Jones couldn't help but wonder if Kirk and she would share a room as well. Well, she knew that she hadn't ended up wearing a ring after everything, so perhaps not. She wasn't sure where the hell Jim was at the moment, which worried her.
But there was an undeniable relief when he said that it wasn't her place. Thank goodness for that, really. The last thing Martha wanted was to live in a run down old house, despite Derek's kind offer to fix it up. When he said onto the next, there was a nod and a grin.
She took his arm and then chuckled softly, at the wink. Yes, he was definitely the Peaksville Jack Harkness. "Well, who wouldn't want to be hanging off such a handsome arm, Sheriff?" A pause. "You know, it's funny how these houses are pretty much like a Hollywood backdrop, yeah?"
His smile waned slightly in the natural transition from playfulness to a real topic. The more he gave it thought, the more Derek lost his smile. He wasn't a fan of horror movies. Peaksville was downright creepy. There was such an eerie, ominous feeling to it.
"The air doesn't move....You don't see a plane in the sky....It's so perfect that it feels fake. Dead. The only warm thing in this hell are the people. Not even the sunny days bring any warmth."
It was nice having her hand on his arm at a time like that. Human contact, whether this was all a nightmare or some kind of hell, made this existence bearable. The thought came with a strong pang. Deb had said those very words about him. And where was she now? He wasn't even looking for her.
Watching those episodes had left him incredibly bitter. Martha had helped him forget for a while. In fact, she helped him remember how it was he and Deb had connected from the start. "You seen Jim?" Derek distracted himself. He couldn't discuss what he had seen on the DVDs with anyone but Deb regardless all the bitterness and resentment that had built inside of him.
"The people are right here; we're here, yeah? We're people, and we're real despite what West and his little DVDs might happen to say." Martha's voice was soft, but it was certain and sure; she definitely wasn't going to let herself be spooked by his assignment of the world around them. Keeping her hand n his, Martha moved past the next house.
"I don't think it'll be one of these; it wouldn't make sense. We're too far away for it." Martha took a deep breath, and then she gave him another squeeze and started to steer them downtown more.
The mention of Jim made her frown, and she shook her head sadly. "I haven't seen him. I'm looking for him, hopeful he's about somewhere. He had to be; Martha Jones wouldn't lose him too.
It wasn't as if they were on any kind of time table. If Martha wanted to skip over houses, Derek would oblige her. She did have a point. The house his key worked on was not so desolate. He swaggered alongside her, allowing her energy to take the lead.
He wondered how long she had been there to keep such a positive outlook. A day before him? A week? He could've asked her but it wasn't a question he really wanted an answer to. It would probably only depress him more.
So he asked about Kirk and it made her frown. "He's the Captain. If anyone is fine, it's him." Derek was firm. He even sported a genuine grin and brought their joined hands to his lips, giving the top of hers a quick kiss.
"Wouldn't be surprised if we find him out here looking for you. The boarding house just vanished on all of us. At least, it did for me. I was drawn to my place and putting on this costume. You're out here lost. Might be different for all of us. I'll tell you this much...I won't leave you until you're alright. Well, as alright as we can be in Peaksville."
Martha still worried; it was one of the things she did, especially when it was about people she cared deeply for. But she was going to keep her chin up and keep up appearances. Everyone would be found and they would all survive the rest of whatever West had planned for them. Taking a deep breath, Martha grinned at the kiss that Derek dotted on the top of her hand.
"I hope so. Jim's, well, I'm sure he's looking for a me or a way out or something." A little sigh and a flash of a grim look when he said that he was drawn to the house and finding a costume. Martha didn't feel a pull to go anywhere, and all she wanted was a hot shower and a cup of tea.
For a moment, the boarding house missing loomed rather large in her world. If it went missing how could they find things like food? Martha Jones was a complete and utter rubbish cook; this was going to be a problem. "I don't suppose you know how to cook, Mr. Morgan?" Her voice was soft and teasing, but there was a note of uncertainty in it.
"I can order a mean take-out," he teased in reply to her question. Derek was happy to keep things light. Martha just didn't seem right with a frown on her face. He never shook the look of terror on her face when her sole intent had been to help him. If at all possible, he'd try his damnedest to keep her grinning.
"Not much of that here but I spent more time at the diner than I ever ate at the boarding house. Never felt right eating with strangers. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense but...Hey, I had someone cook me one helluva steak. Ziva. You know her?"
His mind caught up with his lips a little late. Ziva had disappeared. Damn it! He didn't let the blunder show on his face and quickly continued. "There's gotta be people who can cook around. If I'm the sheriff, somebody's gotta be a cook. ...I'd be happy to make you a burger," he smiled.
Martha Jones was trusting the reactions of the people around her: Deb, Jim and House, to know that it wasn't how Derek Morgan actually was. If she'd had any suspicions that it was how he normally reacted, she would have quickly turned on her heel and left. But she couldn't, or wouldn't blame him for the effects that Peaksville tended to have on them. It wasn't fair for her to do so, especially when Martha'd had experience with people around her being possessed before.
"Derek," her voice was soft, and she reached over and touched his arm quickly. "It's alright. I know it wasn't you." After the time of keeping quiet about things, Martha always attempted to be open and honest about things. "You don't need to blame yourself. I don't." And she didn't, not the slightest bit.
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Her touch, however, was as appreciated as unexpected. To go as far as reaching for him had to mean that she genuinely forgave him. Yet he found it hard to look her in the eyes. Derek glanced long enough to say, "Thanks." He looked to the pavement then down the street as he continued. "Hope nothing like that ever happens again."
The brief recollection forced him to remember Deb. She had saved him and Martha. He felt shitty for how bitter he had been about what he had witnessed on her DVDs. Yet he couldn't forget what he saw. Derek pushed thoughts about Deb out of his mind for the time being. He had to sort that out with her and not let his resentments seep into being there with Martha.
"I was an FBI agent before this nightmare. Before that, I was a cop in Chicago. No idea if that's how West decided on the uniform. Deb was a cop too, but I haven't seen her since she decked him. Her things are in the same room with mine. I didn't bother to explore the house any. Didn't feel like staying in anymore. I spent hours watching our DVDs. Needed some air."
His stone started very even and stately. At the mention of Deb, Derek nearly muttered until he began talking about the house he was in. He was back to speaking in the wind when discussed the DVDs. He glanced at Martha. "I think I heard something about you being a doctor. Maybe your key works over by the doctor's office."
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If she came back. Martha had little doubt in her mind that those people who'd gotten violent with West yesterday had ended up in the cornfield. She was just grateful that Jim hadn't ended up there as well. She was rather fond of Jim, and Martha was a bit worried about him as she wandered around looking for her home. Hopefully, she'd run into him sooner rather than later.
When he said that she was a FBI agent, Martha grinned at that. ""I know, well, I suspected about the two of you. Spending time with people in uniform, ya tend to get a bit of a sense about these things." However, the grin slipped a bit when he said that he hadn't seen Deb since she decked him. "She'll be back. They'll all be back. I'm certain there in the cornfield making deals as we speak. I'm certain she'll be back sooner rather than later, love." Another hand on his, and she just held it for a moment, trying to figure out a way to calm down. She didn't know what was on those DVDs, but it certainly didn't sound good.
But there were tasks to focus on, and Martha was good at them. "I thought as much, but it didn't work to open anything over there."
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Derek nodded along to acknowledge Martha about her sense for members in law enforcement. Well, he suspected she meant law enforcement. He considered bringing up that Ziva was NCIS but it didn't feel appropriate. It would suffice that Martha believed those who disappeared would all return.
"Well, let's see where it does work at," he replied, reaching and giving her hand a quick, soft, affectionate squeeze in return before commencing the walk down Main. It felt wrong that he hadn't said more. With eyes down the street, he looked over at Martha once more. "You're good people, Martha. If there is any light in this dark place, you're definitely part of it."
A genuine smile finally formed on his lips. It wasn't his biggest or brightest but the unhappiness that he felt for the past twelve hours eased in the exchange. He was definitely a tactile person. Touch and understanding meant a lot. In this world away from his world, it really wasn't all a nightmare.
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She decided to make the effort of lightening the mood a bit. "So, does this mean that we should call you 'Sheriff' now, Derek? " She reached out and touched him again, because Martha Jones tended to touch people. For her, touching people was more than just a gesture. A touch could heal; it could make things better; it could ground you when things were going wrong and it could even make your blood pressure go down.
"I must say," she added after a second, her voice light and teasing. "You do wear it well, you know."
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"Are you flirting with me, Mizz Jones?" he laughed. "You know I'm a married man. And a man in uniform. Both which I'm fully aware of being a huge turn on for women. I'm happy to oblige if you wanna keep taking a look." Finally. Martha managed to get a full smile from Derek. He playfully flexed a bicep then held his elbow out for her to hang onto. There was no real prowess in his reply but for the moment, he shook the dark clouds that stormed overhead.
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There was a bit of a pointed stare and Martha took the elbow that he offered her, and she wrapped her hands around it. There was a bit of ohing and ahing when she watched it, and then there was a quick fanning gesture towards her face as if she was feeling faint because of his strength and general manliness.
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His smile was a mile wide and there was a pep in his step. "I do wear it well, don't I?" he asked rhetorically with the same teasing quality in his voice. "You might make a dishonest man out of me yet, Sweetheart."
They were fast approaching a residence and Derek reached over with the opposite hand, holding it out for her key. The house looked far from lived in. He wondered if they were obligated to specific residences. What would be the harm in Martha staying with him if she disliked her place? Aside from possibly making Kirk wary, of course.
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"Definitely do wear it well. And don't ya tempt me, Derek. I'm not the cheating kind." The same harmless flirty tone was in her voice and she gave his arm a squeeze before the key was handed over to him.
"This really doesn't look all that lived in, yeah? I hope we're not going to be obliged to make these places habitable." She doubted it; West didn't seem like he was big on preliminaries.
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The key didn't work. "But this isn't your place." He tried the knob although the lock didn't turn just to see if the property opened. Denied. "Huh. I thought no one locked their doors in the fifties." Derek shrugged and finally turned back to Martha, a hint of a smile coming back on his lips. "On to the next."
He held his elbow out again, a more obvious smile forming with a wink thrown in. "I'd be a stupid man not to keep offering. Who wouldn't want a beautiful woman such as yourself hanging off their arm." Derek was definitely shaking some of the demons off his shoulders.
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Knowing that Derek and Debra had been assigned a room to share, Martha Jones couldn't help but wonder if Kirk and she would share a room as well. Well, she knew that she hadn't ended up wearing a ring after everything, so perhaps not. She wasn't sure where the hell Jim was at the moment, which worried her.
But there was an undeniable relief when he said that it wasn't her place. Thank goodness for that, really. The last thing Martha wanted was to live in a run down old house, despite Derek's kind offer to fix it up. When he said onto the next, there was a nod and a grin.
She took his arm and then chuckled softly, at the wink. Yes, he was definitely the Peaksville Jack Harkness. "Well, who wouldn't want to be hanging off such a handsome arm, Sheriff?" A pause. "You know, it's funny how these houses are pretty much like a Hollywood backdrop, yeah?"
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"The air doesn't move....You don't see a plane in the sky....It's so perfect that it feels fake. Dead. The only warm thing in this hell are the people. Not even the sunny days bring any warmth."
It was nice having her hand on his arm at a time like that. Human contact, whether this was all a nightmare or some kind of hell, made this existence bearable. The thought came with a strong pang. Deb had said those very words about him. And where was she now? He wasn't even looking for her.
Watching those episodes had left him incredibly bitter. Martha had helped him forget for a while. In fact, she helped him remember how it was he and Deb had connected from the start. "You seen Jim?" Derek distracted himself. He couldn't discuss what he had seen on the DVDs with anyone but Deb regardless all the bitterness and resentment that had built inside of him.
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"I don't think it'll be one of these; it wouldn't make sense. We're too far away for it." Martha took a deep breath, and then she gave him another squeeze and started to steer them downtown more.
The mention of Jim made her frown, and she shook her head sadly. "I haven't seen him. I'm looking for him, hopeful he's about somewhere. He had to be; Martha Jones wouldn't lose him too.
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He wondered how long she had been there to keep such a positive outlook. A day before him? A week? He could've asked her but it wasn't a question he really wanted an answer to. It would probably only depress him more.
So he asked about Kirk and it made her frown. "He's the Captain. If anyone is fine, it's him." Derek was firm. He even sported a genuine grin and brought their joined hands to his lips, giving the top of hers a quick kiss.
"Wouldn't be surprised if we find him out here looking for you. The boarding house just vanished on all of us. At least, it did for me. I was drawn to my place and putting on this costume. You're out here lost. Might be different for all of us. I'll tell you this much...I won't leave you until you're alright. Well, as alright as we can be in Peaksville."
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"I hope so. Jim's, well, I'm sure he's looking for a me or a way out or something." A little sigh and a flash of a grim look when he said that he was drawn to the house and finding a costume. Martha didn't feel a pull to go anywhere, and all she wanted was a hot shower and a cup of tea.
For a moment, the boarding house missing loomed rather large in her world. If it went missing how could they find things like food? Martha Jones was a complete and utter rubbish cook; this was going to be a problem. "I don't suppose you know how to cook, Mr. Morgan?" Her voice was soft and teasing, but there was a note of uncertainty in it.
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"Not much of that here but I spent more time at the diner than I ever ate at the boarding house. Never felt right eating with strangers. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense but...Hey, I had someone cook me one helluva steak. Ziva. You know her?"
His mind caught up with his lips a little late. Ziva had disappeared. Damn it! He didn't let the blunder show on his face and quickly continued. "There's gotta be people who can cook around. If I'm the sheriff, somebody's gotta be a cook. ...I'd be happy to make you a burger," he smiled.
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