Hello folks. Final chapter here - the thrilling conclusion of So Tell Me Now, and I Won't Ask Again! Hope you have enjoyed the run.

The summer is still young - there's some new stuff on the horizon. Please stay tuned.

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!

XVIII

They both walked forward and met in the middle. Their lips met immediately and urgently, and a wave of cautious relief swept over Martha. After a few moments, he stopped kissing her and pulled her into a hug.

"You do get it, don't you?" he asked.

"I think," she said against his chest.

"The TARDIS' equations for harbouring temporally-unstable events indicate that in the last five hours, the quantity of fluctuating continua has decreased by fifty per cent," he said. "I realised it while we were repairing her."

She looked up at him. "Oh, that clears it right up."

He moved backwards and leaned against the wall. "It means that my bedroom has moved out of the Lewogue sanctuary."

"Now that I can see."

"The influence of Aturra the Hart, bringer of great desire, has lifted."

"I see."

"The default, when Aturra and Vaennar are activated together, is manifestation of truth."

"And the truth?"

"Does it need saying again?"

"Erm… no. Wait, yeah. It does."

"The truth is I love you."

She smiled. "I love you, too."

"Well, thank goodness," he said, smirking. "I thought maybe I'd come on too strong."

She sighed, and leaned against the wall beside him. "So, truth is truth?"

"Yep."

"This is how it's meant to be?"

"Yep."

"This means… deep down…"

He inhaled long, and reached over to push a strand of hair behind her ear. "…deep down, I've always loved you. Or at least, deep down, I was destined to love you."

She took a pause, a moment to think. "I wish you could have come up with this on your own."

"Well, I was too thick for that, too hung up on my own stuff. Not that you have a century or two to wait for me to wake up, but I suppose eventually I would have taken my head out of… well, anyway , one of the things that Aturra does is clear away debris so that our desires can manifest. He helps us let go of our hang-ups for a while, sets something free."

"Really? I would have thought that would be Vaennar's job."

"Actually, Vaennar puts the debris back in place," the Doctor explained. "That's the only way truth can be told. If we put all the crap back into play, all the things that were standing in our way before, and the desire still remains manifest, then it was meant to be."

"So, in your case, I'd imagine lots of things had to get pushed aside!"

"Well, yeah," he conceded uneasily. He thought about it. How much did he really want to tell her? He knew that they were embarking on something now that would require honesty from both of them, but now was not the time to drag out the baggage. He decided to keep it simple for the moment. "There was this thing that happened on a beach in Norway, a while back. It was… just bloody awful. It was one of those moments that makes you think you want to just curl up and die."

"What happened?"

"It's what didn't happen – what I didn't have the chance to do, because I was too slow. I'll tell you about it someday, not now. Anyway, it's been on my mind all the time since it happened. It's been a major distraction, which I didn't realise until today. In order for your desire to manifest, Aturra had to take that memory away from me for a while, along with a few other things. While we were fixing the TARDIS, it came back, but I realised…"

"What?"

"…that I love you, and that is stronger than any damage that memory could do to me. And also that I could learn from that experience. Which is why I'm going to say this again, and every chance I get from now on," he was saying, moving to stand in front of her. He took her hands. "Martha Jones, I love you."

She smiled, and tears that she'd been holding back began to spill.

He continued. "And I can love you even with the memories and the psychic debris."

"And tomorrow?"

"I'm surprised you even have to ask," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"Just for my peace of mind. I've been living for so long having part of you, never all of you. I've had to live with caution, all this time, never trusting your feelings, or my own for that matter. So, tell me now, and I won't ask again."

"I'll still love you tomorrow. And the next day. And next year. I could go on…"

"Thank you," she sighed, wiping her eyes. "Caution takes energy – I don't have it anymore."

"You don't need it."

He took her hand and led her through the door into the bedroom, totally independent of all magic, influences or temporally-unstable events. Well, almost.

When Martha entered, her jaw dropped, and the Doctor smiled.

The golden lighting in his brownish bedroom had turned decidedly lighter, more blue like moonlight, the carpet had gone white, and the seating area to the right was now surrounded with Martha's mahogany bookshelves. She wandered over and fingered the trinkets and books, all her own, now installed in the Doctor's bedroom. She spied her missing armchair beside the Doctor's red sofa and coffee table and ran her hands over the soft upholstery.

Beside the bed, she noticed, a door had appeared. She pointed at it, "Is that…?"

"Take a look."

She ran over and looked inside. It was her closet, filled with her own clothes, shoes, bathrobes, everything the way she'd left it. And finally, on the wall over the bed was her embroidered hanging of rows of lavender plants, bending into the wind.

Smiling, mouth agape, she looked at the Doctor. "Did the TARDIS do this for us?" she asked.

"Yep," he said. "I came in for a kip just after you did. I was only out for half an hour, but when I woke up, it was like this."

She sat down on the end of the bed and shook her head. "Truth manifests…"

"…and combines our bedrooms. I can't think of a better way to illustrate the change in our lives."

"If I went back to my room…"

"It's not there anymore."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. It's just a feeling."

"Well," she said, looking up at him. "It was a place where I spent a lot of time feeling very alone. I suppose it stands to reason that it's gone now."

"Exactly," he said. "You don't ever need to go back there again."

"Good," she replied with finality. She stood up. "Now, you said I could go back to bed."

"Okay. Still sleepy?" he asked, being purposely naïve.

"Nope," she answered, taking his hand.