Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures. I don't own anything!

Sorry if I have caused confusion to anybody who read this before when I published it, but due to the content not being as good and well written, I decided to delete that story and re-write it, to form this one.

The next chapter will involve a little more information about what is going on!

Chapter One: Prologue

The traffic to get to London, Heathrow airport was a nightmare. It was the morning rush hour and the flight to New York was due to be taking off in under two hours.

Martin became agitated as he sat in his Lexus wondering when the car in front was actually going to move forward.

Doctor Martin Ellingham, Head of Vascular Surgery in London was a tall, broad shouldered with short brown hair. His dark brown eyes showed the wisdom and intelligence he natured. He was stern looking and walked with a upright manner.

In particular his surgeon skills had become a widespread phenomenon not long after he became qualified as a cardiovascular specialist. Many people in the medical world knew just who this surgeon was, and since he had written many comments in books and also been made to speak at conferences, doctors were keen to hear what he had to say. The new medical students were considered lucky to have him lecture them every now and then.

His job had landed the thirty-one year old doctor into being made keynote speaker for the vascular department in one of the world's largest medical conferences. Many people from Britain, America, France, Italy and Spain were going to be listening the great British surgeon during their time in New York.

In the meantime, he made himself useful by practising the speech he had prepared trying to memorise the words exactly. He couldn't understand why he could only take his actual presentational speech up to the lecture stand and not the notes for the diagram.

'As you can see here on the diagram….' He paused and frowned as he focused on the road and tried to remember his next line, 'What is it?' his frustration was building up, 'Oh come on Ellingham! You should know this, if you can remember the periodic table, you can remember this it's easy!'

It wasn't worth getting all stressed about it now; there was the fact of getting on the plane to be worrying about.

Eventually, making it to the airport, Martin parked his car in his reservation spot for the weekend. He made his way, standing tall above the rest, to the entrance with his briefcase and luggage bag in either hand.

Martin didn't really show his emotions, but he was actually excited about going over to America, going sight seeing (not exactly) and exploring an alien city to what London was.

Entering the busy and overcrowded airport, Martin found it impossible to find any of his friends and colleagues that were boarding the same plane.

He went through to the desk where he handed over his passport and luggage, and decided to get a coffee.

Samuel Bright and Chris Parsons were probably off gallivanting around the airport, making stupid jokes together – both of them didn't act like doctors from the outside.

Sitting in the department lounge, Martin saw no sign of Chris or Sam. He felt quite put out, since they were meant to meet him, so they could get on the plane together. Martin had thought they were best friends and now was making assumptions that perhaps not anymore.

Over the past two years, he became more miserable and appeared trapped in his own bubble. Nothing was delightful anymore since then.

'Flight 804 will be taking off from gate 6 in just five minutes. That is flight 804 to New York will be taking off from gate 6' the announcement echoed through the high ceilings of the airport.

Martin came back to reality, collected his newspaper and made his way over to the gate entrance. He scanned around the gate department lounge and still saw no sign of anybody familiar.

First class was fairly quiet. Everybody had their individual seat and space to get on with what they needed to do. Most people who were booked into this class was usually business people and representatives or in this case medical professionals.

It was completed with a bar and staff being at passengers service. A loud cheer interrupted the silence.

'Hey Martin!' a small-ish man tapped him on the shoulder. He had square shaped glasses on and resembled the familiar face. Recognising his similar haircut to himself, Martin immediately knew who he was.

'Chris' said Martin, with a little stress in his tone.

'Hello' Chris smiled and slid into the seat opposite, 'Oh first class is fancy, own table, chair and leg room' he looked around in amazement at the presentation of the luxury class, 'When did you get here?'

'About nine-ish this morning' Martin frowned, 'where were you?'

'Oh well I met Sam at the coffee shop and we didn't know where you were, so decided to wander round' Chris explained.

Martin nodded; he suspected that's what they would do – impatient pair he thought as he watched Chris get comfortable by taking out his notepad.

They had been best friends ever since they began medical school at Imperial College. Samuel Bright was the other best friend and the three of them were always together during their time at university.

Chris graduated as a general doctor, Samuel as an orthopaedic surgeon and Martin as a vascular surgeon. They had all gone separately after being made official doctors, but luckily since they were in the same hospital still got together as much as they could.

'I don't know how we didn't bump into each other' Martin sighed grumpily.

Chris looked up from his medical article and frowned at his friend's expression and heaved a deep sighed. Ever since that fateful Christmas he has been acting odd.

Martin glared at Chris as they looked at each other across the room.

'You do realise that she made our friendship more distant" Chris said, 'Sam said the same thing. If he was here we could talk about it more formally, but he had to get on a different plane. He's with all the orthopaedic specialists'

'Right and what do you mean?' Martin asked as he saw Chris drum his fingers on the table laid out in front of him.

'Ever since she turned down your proposal, you've never been the same' Chris stated adding a sharp smile.

'I've forgotten about that now, so lets not talk about it' Martin forcefully replied.

'Oh Martin! She was never any good, you do realise she persuaded you to propose and then when you did responded with the decision she was moving abroad!' Chris said

'I suppose…' Martin said remembering that December morning.

Two Years Ago: December 22nd

It was cold outside, the frost had blurred the windows and the snow had settled softly on the ground.

Inside the Kensington apartment, the fire blazed its flamed filling the room with warmth and cosiness.

Martin cuddled his partner tightly. Her red hair matching the fire, and her thin figure making it difficult to ignore the examination of her bones underneath the skin.

'Its freezing outside' she moaned glancing out the window, 'I cant imagine walking home in the whether'

'Edith, I've told you. You can stay here' Martin repeated for the third time that evening.

Although, Christmas was drawing near, the apartment was bare as usual. Edith couldn't stand the cheap plastic material that was hung with a pin on the ceiling. She also told Martin several times that a Christmas tree isn't meant to be an indoor decoration, but outside since it looked more appropriate. The feeling of the Christmas spirit was lost as soon as anybody entered this apartment. It seemed dull and boring considering outside was filled with lights and cheer for the nearing festival.

Edith pulled away from Martin and looked into his eyes. She didn't smile or say anything just glared deep into them.

'Your pupils are dilated' she pointed out and began to examine his eyeball.

'Thank you' Martin answered and moved away as she came close to open his eye wider.

'Ellingham, I only want to see if they are perfectly working' she said in the least romantic tone contrasting with the atmosphere.

'Everything doesn't have to be perfect you know' said Martin sitting on the edge of the sofa. He suddenly realised the box that was in his pocket. Turning slowly to meet Edith's face, he retrieved a silver box and opened the lid.

Edith gasped as she saw the sparkle of a diamond that was reflected from the light of the fire. Her face wrinkled to portray disgust. Martin didn't notice, but said;

'Edith, will you marry me?" the soft tone showed love and care.

She rose of the sofa angrily and frowned down at him. Martin joined her with a confused expression.

'What the hell are you doing?' she shrieked.


'Proposing!' she said shakily, 'Ellingham, I have got a whole career waiting and I'm only twenty nine!'

'I thought you wanted…'

'No! I have to go. You know that I'm going abroad for my career!' she sighed picking her bag off the coffee table.

'Abroad?' Martin said and followed her to the door, 'When were you going to tell me about that?'

'I thought you knew' she stated, 'Look, I don't want to marry you. Sitting here everyday watching a blazing fire isnt something that I want forever! Bye'

With that she stormed out, shutting the door with a bang. Martin was left standing with a diamond ring in his hand and his best suit ready for the happiness that was meant to be coming.

'Martin!' Chris repeated watching his face come back to the present.

'Sorry' he said and cleared his throat.

'See whenever I mention it you always have those flashbacks!" Chris shook his head, 'Martin, she's gone and were you really going to be happy being stuck married to her?'

'No' Martin agreed, 'Well, it doesn't matter'

'Oh, I do feel for you' Chris said sympathetically, 'there is somebody out there for you'

Martin looked at his best friend in disbelief. What he didn't know is that there was somebody out there for him and she was very close, very close indeed.

It was just a matter of time until they were in New York…