the girl who waited
For the record, I have a post coming up later in the week about things that I've been doing plus my thoughts on new television, but in the meantime, I wanted to post this because it's been in the works for a little while and I needed a pick-me-up.
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They pick the jobs together. All of time and space is a bit too much to choose from alone, though they were both faring well before, on their own. Still, it’s better with someone else.
Sometimes Amy convinces Martha to pick at random. Martha always plans it down to the last detail anyway.
“You’re ruining it,” Amy tells her, but she knows that Martha’s planning has saved them more than once. She appreciates it.
Besides, it’s not like all the planning leaves no room for improvisation.
“Have you noticed,” Martha says, sounding out of breath,”there’s a lot of running when you improvise?”
Amy pulls her back into a room. They listen to some henchmen run past, their shadows stretching out under the door. Martha pries her arm out of Amy’s grip, rubbing feeling back into it. She glares at Amy.
“Oh, shut up,” Amy says. “You love it.”
They were well into it when they met, and that first time they were going after different marks, but they’d ended up in the same restaurant. Amy could have spotted her anywhere. After all, if you couldn’t spot someone else in the trade, it didn’t reflect too well on your skills, did it?
Later, when they’d had to work together to make it out safely, because as it turned out, security details for Canadian Prime Ministers and their wives were not as lax as Amy had been led to believe, Martha’d said she’d spotted Amy first. They’ve been trying to prove each other wrong on that ever since.
“D’you ever think about what you’ll do when we’re done?”
Martha’s lashes are lowered, eyes on her drink. She’s twirling the small paper umbrella around her glass.
Amy swallows past the lump in her throat she seems to have developed in seconds, feels the whiskey burn a little. She coughs.”Done what?”
Martha snorts, and gives her A Look. Amy laughs, and steers the conversation in another direction.
Later, back in the rental car after they’ve pulled another one off-and they were always going to-Amy says, “I don’t.”
They’ve worked together long enough that they can pick up conversations long-past, so Martha just turns to look at her. Her sunglasses mask her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop doing this.”
The silence seems to stretch out long enough that Amy starts to squirm, but just then Martha says, “Good.”
She pulls her glasses off, and hangs them on the collar of her shirt, smiles at Amy before reaching for the volume dial on the radio. Amy intercepts her.
“What does that even mean, ‘good’?” Amy momentarily takes her hands off the steering wheel to make the airquotes.
“Just-” Martha grabs Amy’s hands, and guides them back to where they need to be so they don’t get into an accident. “Just that. Just ‘good’, I’m glad you’re planning to stay longer. It wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t here.”
“Oh.” It’s hard to think of what to say to that, to sharp, quick-witted Martha, who has a few years of experience on her and a plan for her life ‘after’ besides, who’s taught her a bit of discipline, but who never asks that she change who she is, and how she plays this game.. “Well, obviously! I mean--you, too. I wouldn’t...be here otherwise.”
Amy has the strange urge to gently punch Martha on the arm.
“Amy Pond,” Martha laughs, and stretches her arm along her open window. “You are-”
“-impossible, yes, I’ve been told.”
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I apologize for how vague the actual conning is, and also for not including other companions :(
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This is exactly what I wanted.
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