FIC: You Too
Title: You Too
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Jack, the Doctor, Rose, tiny mention of Saxon; Martha/Jack; mentions of Jack/Rose, mentions of Rose/Doctor; unrequited Martha/Doctor, unrequited Jack/Doctor, hints of Martha/Rose
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Tiny ones for The Sound Of Drums 3x12
Warnings: I wrote this very quickly on a keyboard that is slightly broken and it hasn’t been beta-ed, so sorry for errors. Also, the tense gets away from me a little.A/N: Oh my god, I’ve written het. What is happening in the world?
‘You too, huh?’
The words had settled in Martha’s mind, and suddenly the fledging friendship between herself and the Captain- built on flirtation and the Doctor and fear for their lives- deepened by another level. At the time, she doesn’t notice; after all, there is far too much going on to pause to examine her emotional psyche. But later, she will realise, that those simple words, that resigned look, changed her, and what he was to her.
In some ways, primal ways, she resents him. This man, this gorgeous, funny, desperate man knew the Doctor in another life, knew personal things, and more importantly somehow, this man had known Rose- the mythical, missing Rose, gone but certainly not forgotten. How can the grin he gives her to her face possible compete with the far away look the Doctor gives when he thinks of his former companion.
The Doctor is glad to be around Martha, but somehow that particular look makes Martha wonder if he’s trying to make eye contact with this girl, trapped far away, beyond even his capabilities. There was a bond there that was so strong, it was stretched but wasn’t yet broken, and somehow Martha knew, even though she’d never have the proof, that far away a perfect girl named Rose was also staring into the distance, a tiny frown on her face, trying to make eye contact with a man in another universe all together. Between them, almost achieving it.
And this Captain, another perfect specimen from the Doctor’s past, had known Rose- he can remind him of the good times, can tease and bring out a side of the Doctor that after months she had not glimpsed. She resents this, somewhere deep inside her, that she is not enough, that she cannot bring these reactions to pass.
He’s also prettier than she is, and more able to converse fluently with the Doctor- in no way is the Captain his equal, but he projects the enthusiastic apprentice sometimes while Martha feels like a child around them. Why would the Doctor pick her, boring, normal human, when he could have Jack?
More importantly though, is the moment when she realises that the Doctor shows no sign of picking Jack either.
They share a look, barely a second of understanding, but later she will realise that it was vital in their relationship.
They could compare knowledge, time travel, life experience, and Jack would beat her every time, of course he would. They could even compare experiences with the Doctor- this would be a tie, aside for the advantage of witnessing legendary Rose, because each moment with the Doctor they would agree was priceless, and to have any at all were comparable to being with him always- it is rather difficult to understand how one infinity could be larger than another.
The Doctor had explained it to her, once, and while she could have sworn she followed at the time, she couldn’t real recall what he had said or how it all made such sense when he said it.
But when it comes down to it, Jack and she are as equals in this. The Doctor, delicately flawed as he is, stares into the distance, a tiny frown on his face, and does not focus his eyes on those around him in quite the same way as he does the horizon.
Jack and Martha know the will never stop looking to him though, just in case he once looks at them with that intensity. If they were looking away when it happened, it would be lost forever.
Martha didn’t realise how their relationship changed in that moment, but later, much later, she will look back and pin point it. The look in his eyes had been so different to the eyes, relaxed and amused, that she will be looking into when she realises.
Jack’s body is all that she had guessed and more, and when they kiss, long after Saxon, their bodies still cooling after the frantic movements of just a moment before, it is slow, languid, enjoyable. When they break away, they each repeat the last words they had said to each other- reminders and reassurances that they are not him.
Martha lies in Jack’s arms, both still naked, sated, awake, and just holding and feeling each other. It was so terribly simple, and totally devastating, that this gorgeous, wonderful, heart stopping man, handsome and brave and witty and strong was not enough for her. Slowly, she turns her face up to his, presses another kiss to his mouth before beginning to quietly murmur.
‘Tell me about… Rose.’
Jack isn’t surprised, and doesn’t pull away from her, physically or mentally. He kisses her again, gently, teasingly, as he thinks of his answer.
‘Rose… was gorgeous. Smiling and laughing and crying- she was very passionate. There was,’ he presses a kiss to her jaw as he pauses, ‘there was, a quality of innocence to her. She was formidable, and underestimated, and beautiful. She pouted, and shouted, and came through. She didn’t give up. She was fun, and loving, and attractive, cocky and confident and brazen.’
Jack smiles ruefully, cupping Martha’s naked breast, and breathes into her ear.
‘She made good choices, and bad ones. She could argue. She loved simple pleasures as much as the more wondrous ones, sometimes.’
Jack gently tilts Martha’s head toward him, his faint smile distracting slightly from his serious eyes.
‘Her skin bruised more easily than yours, and I marked her more than I intended too. She was loud, didn’t try to stifle her cries, smiled through every one of them. Happy, and interested and curious- we did a lot, her and I.’
Martha stares up at him, unblinking.
‘Rose never pretended that she wanted me over him. Neither did I. I thought they were both wonderful of course, it was such a great relationship, but both of us knew that if we had to choose between each other and him- well, there was no contest. I think you know what I mean.’
Martha does, and doesn’t hide it, nodding, and again those words from long ago flash through her mind- ‘You too, huh?’- and she wonders if secretly missing Rose would have fitted right in with their little desperate, invisible fan club.
Jack brushes Martha’s cheek and they smile at each other for a long moment.
‘More than anything,’ he murmurs gently, ‘Rose was human. She wasn’t a perfect myth, she was real, just like you and me, and we all reacted the same way to him. Desperate, unsure love. Comforting each other.’
Martha shifts her body under his, comforting him.
‘She got lucky, very lucky, and hit the jackpot without ever being totally sure that she’d won. So have I. So have you.’
The silence after these words was only broken by them finally moving their bodies apart. Jack whispers into the silence, ‘She was real,' and presses a kiss to the side of her mouth before continuing.
‘So are you.’
And Martha’s face splits open into a wide grin as she replies, ‘And you too, huh?’
~::~::~
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