Fic--'Til Summer Comes Around
A completely AU fic that is stuffed to the brim with fluff :). Title taken from one of Keith Urban’s songs.
Title: ‘Til Summer Comes Around
Author: foreverwriting9
Pairing: Doctor/Martha
Spoilers: For the end of S3.
Rating: PG-PG13 for innuendo
Summary: The Doctor visits Martha every summer after they part ways.
Word Count: 1,693
-
The first summer after Martha had left the Doctor found her sitting in her new house, staring at all the empty space she suddenly owned. She drummed her fingers against the kitchen wall and sighed. It all seemed like too much work, there was no way she could get all the renovations done quickly by herself.
A familiar wheezing sound came from the garden. Martha turned to the window in disbelief, there was no way…
But there he was.
She smiled as she watched the Doctor swing the TARDIS door open and step out onto the grass. Slowly, she thought, don’t run.
She couldn’t help it. With a cry, Martha tore out of the kitchen and into the garden. All those times she had told herself that she had gotten over him, those times seemed like a lie now. All it took was for him to just show up out of the blue with that silly, boyish grin and her self-restraint completely shattered.
He heard the pounding of her feet on the hard ground. With a smile he turned and opened his arms wide. “Martha Jones.”
She flew into him, almost knocking him off balance. The Doctor could feel her heart pounding in her chest, almost, but not quite, keeping time with his own. He smiled into her hair. They stood like that for a few minutes before finally pulling apart.
“So,” said the Doctor, turning toward her house. “This is your house.”
“Just moved in.”
“Today?”
“Yesterday.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Renovations?”
“A lot.”
He fingered the sonic screwdriver resting in his pocket and smiled. “I want to help.”
-
Martha lay in the center of the room she and the Doctor were in the process of painting. After three hours of working they had decided to take a break, at least, she had. He was still hard at work, painting with the same sort of manic energy he had started out with.
She closed her eyes. The Doctor had started humming, and it was a comforting sound. With her eyes closed and her ears filled with his humming, she could pretend they were back on the TARDIS together.
It was then that something wet splattered across her face. She bolted upright, eyes wide. The Doctor was looking sheepishly at her, trying to hide his paintbrush behind his back. Martha raised her hand to her face. It was blue paint. Deftly, she reached for the paintbrush sitting next to her on the floor, then flicked it at him, covering his astonished face in blue paint.
Recovering, the Doctor reached down and laid hold of a bucket of paint. Martha held up her hand. “You wouldn’t.”
He grinned at her, and tossed the contents of the bucket in her direction.
-
Minutes later, they both lay in the middle of the room, covered in paint. The Doctor watched the rise and fall of Martha’s chest as she slept. Work had been tiring her out, and their paint fight had taken a toll on her.
He leaned over and pecked her paint-smeared cheek. “Sweet dreams Martha Jones.”
-
The second summer, while Martha was working in her backyard when she heard the TARDIS land. She peered around a bush and smiled briefly as she caught sight of the Doctor, then turned away as he made his way toward her.
He wrapped her in a hug from behind. “Guess who.” The look on her face as she turned around made him stop. “What?”
Her hands moved to her hips. “You left without saying good-bye.”
“Oh.” He stared down at the ground guiltily, not quite knowing what to say. He moved to the usual tactic he used whenever he owed someone something, and held his hand out to her. “Let me make it up to you.”
She laughed in disbelief. “You can’t just offer me a trip in the TARDIS and expect that to change everything.”
He inwardly cursed, but quickly came up with an alternative solution. “I’m not offering you a trip in the TARDIS; I’m offering you a trip with me.”
She glanced from his outstretched hand up into his wide, brown eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”
-
They spent the day at a carnival. Where exactly, Martha wasn’t sure, but she quickly forgot that when the Doctor grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her into the loud, colorful crowd of people.
He took her to a freak show where they watched a bearded woman and a dwarf, then he pulled her into another tent where one man was swallowing swords and another was juggling lit torches. Martha cringed as the sword swallower swallowed a particularly grotesque looking long-sword. The Doctor squeezed her hand. “C’mon.”
It was then that he dragged her to the Haunted House attraction. She dug her heels into the dirt, refusing to go any farther. The Doctor turned around, surprised at the sudden resistance.
“No way,” said Martha in a low voice.
“C’mon,” he implored, giving her a small smile. “I’ll let you hold my hand.”
“I’m already holding your hand.”
“Oh.” He glanced down at their entwined fingers. “Fair point.”
Martha eventually persuaded him away from the Haunted House and to the Ferris Wheel instead. As the Ferris Wheel cranked to life, she couldn’t help but notice that the Doctor was pouting. She rolled her eyes. “Such a child…” she muttered.
Martha leaned over to peck him on the check, and at the same time, he turned to say something to her. Their lips collided.
-
The third summer, he came when it was dark out. That didn’t stop Martha from running out to greet him. Much like the first summer, she ran outside and barreled right into his outstretched arms. He wasn’t as prepared this time, and stumbled backwards, falling onto the grass and taking Martha with him.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on top of her head and gazing up at the stars. “Well, this is comfortable.”
She laughed and rolled off of him. “Show me the stars, Doctor.”
He rolled over so that he lay on top of her. “It would be my pleasure, Martha Jones.” He said, kissing her soundly.
-
The fourth summer, Martha sat and waited, staring out at the garden. It was raining, and she had trouble seeing clearly out the window. Impatient, she tapped her fingers against the kitchen table. Call it woman’s intuition, but she felt that something was wrong.
That summer, he didn’t come.
-
It wasn’t until several summers later, when Martha had stopped looking for the blue box that it finally appeared in her garden.
The door to the TARDIS swung open, and the Doctor strolled out, hands buried in the pockets of his coat. He stood, and waited for Martha to come out and greet him. From close by came a sound.
“Martha?”
A young brown-eyed boy with dark hair peeked around a hedge. His eyes widened when he saw the strange man and the blue box. The Doctor gave him a smile. “Well, hullo there.”
The boy didn’t give any sign of answering.
“Could you tell me where Martha is?”
The boy looked around nervously then pointed to the house.
“Good. Thank you.”
He made his way to the house and slowly swung the kitchen door open, gingerly stepping into Martha’s house. Everything was so different from the last time he had seen it, now the whole house seemed to contain the presence of a child-presumably the one out in the garden. The Doctor took a step forward and surveyed the refrigerator; it was covered in crayon drawings. One of a blue box caught his attention, and he plucked it off the fridge.
“He did that one last year, after I started telling him stories about you.”
He spun around. “Martha!”
She didn’t smile at him. “How could you?” she said softly, voice wavering. “How could you visit me and give me false hope, and then just decide not to come anymore? You made me think I was more than some stray human you picked up; I thought things would be different…”
He took a step toward her.
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to explain to people what had happened to me?”
Another step. “Martha-”
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you?”
One last step and he had her in his arms. She pounded her fists against his chest. “It’s not fair! You said you loved me, you promised you’d be back!”
She continued to struggle against him, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“What do you mean I never came back?”
Martha stopped hitting him and looked up. “I waited for you, you never showed up.”
“But that’s not right, I made sure…”
Martha looked up at him, confused.
“I’ve only just come from that night,” he explained, “the one when we looked at the stars.”
She looked less confused now. “Why?”
“I…I wanted to see what would happen, with us.”
“Oh.”
He gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I can’t stay.”
“I know.”
They stood in the kitchen for a moment, watching Lucas Jones playing in the garden.
“I’m sorry.”
Martha gave him a wry smile. “That’s what I get for falling in love with a Time Lord.”
“I must have died, or something, Martha. That’s the only thing that would keep me away.”
“I know.” She said simply, kissing him on the cheek. “Here,” she handed him the picture Lucas had drawn of the three of them and the TARDIS, “so you have a bit of home with you.”
He smiled and took her hand. “See me off?”
“You bet.”
They walked out into the garden hand in hand. With one last parting kiss the Doctor slipped his hand out of Martha’s and stepped toward the TARDIS. Lucas popped up from behind a bush, staring wide-eyed at the Doctor.
“Say good-bye to the Doctor, Luke.”
“Good-bye Doctor.”
The Doctor folded the hand-drawn picture and put it in a pocket on the inside of his suit then turned and smiled at his son. “Good-bye Luke.”