He only smirked, "If there's a will, there's a way, but I think I know of a better place..."
It was a bit of a walk, which the Doctor felt a little guilty about, but landed them in a nicer section of the city, "I know someone who might help, just a minute." He grinned at her and knocked on the door. Waiting, the door finally opened by a young looking woman, who eyed the Doctor suspiciously, "Yes, what is it?"
"Doctor Shaw, yes?"
"Yes, that's me." Her expression lightened at the mention of her name, "Who are you?"
"Oh! Did the Department head not contact you?" The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper, glancing at it, then showed her, "Professor... Chadwick.."
"Chadwick? Don't you mean Cartwright?"
"Oh yes, wrong university, I get them mixed up! Anyway, Professor Cartwright suggested I talk to you about housing? See, I'm the new research assistant, and..."
"Oh lovely! No wait, let me get the key!" She shut the door and footsteps were heard as she ran off. The Doctor glanced back at Martha with a cheeky grin.
"My old self will be working with her in a year or so, but don't mention it!" He was really skirting on creating a paradox here...
Martha stood just behind him, watching the exchange with interest. The Doctor was, as ever, maniacally charming and she couldn't help but laugh when he explained the situation.
"So Mr. Jones. Flirting with paradoxes. I think we can handle that." She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow. "And the housing will be better than last time? Because that was the smallest flat in the world. Made mine look like a castle!"
He grinned and leaned into her, "Enough to fit a kitchen table and a cat. Oh, I haven't had a pet in a long time!" He tried to have one once in the TARDIS, but it got lost after the second day. Come to think of it, he never did find it....ever.
The door opened back up and Miss Shaw handed him a key, "Here you go, sir! Oh? Is this your...wife?"
"And a cat. That sounds promising," she smiled, easily slipping into the domestic Martha she had been all that time ago when they had been stuck in the 60s.
She smiled back jovially Miss Shaw, deciding not to let her skin color define her. "Just Martha. Mrs. Jones I guess."
Martha took his hand in hers to show marital bliss. They'd have to find some rings to keep people off their scent.
After a few pleasant exchanges, which the Doctor was doing his best to get them away in fears of a paradox forming by any information given, they keyed into the flat.
"Home sweet home!" He flipped on a light and explored a bit. "Ah, lovely, innit?" Spinning on his heels, "I should have us out of here by the end of the week, promise." Surly he could fix the TARDIS in shorter time than that, but at least there was some leeway there for her.
Martha steered clear from anything she shouldn't say. They'd lived in the 60s for a few months before. She knew how to keep as inconspicuous as possible.
"A week?" she asked as she moved her way through the apartment, turning lights on and off and trying all the appliances. "Very nice. And the landlady doesn't seem nearly as cranky as the one before. Your tinkering probably won't get us thrown out." She adds with a smile.
"I'll start looking through the classifieds," she continued. "Not that I doubt your skill, but better be safe than sorry."
"You're holding a grudge against that woman, aren't you?" Alright, so maybe the Doctor never mentioned he fixed the woman's oven and she baked him all those sweets both as a thank you and for trying to fatten him up...
Flopping down on the couch, he stretched his legs out. "Think there's a clinic or something that'll hire you?" He hadn't actually found a job himself, he was just happily making things up and scary enough, it worked. Really, he had to be one of the luckiest people in the universe.
"Well, she was all sorts of nosy," Martha replied. She sighed when he mentioned the clinic. "We'll see. I dearly hope so. I would enjoy that so much more than working in the shop."
She looked over at him. "Do you still have your ring from last time we played married couple?"
He dug around in his pockets, "I think so!" He started pulling out odds and ends until yup! There it was! A simple gold band. "Erm, do you?" He couldn't remember if he kept it for her or not.
Martha pulled the partner band off her right hand and transferred it to her left, flushing slightly. "Right. So that's not an issue."
She looked in the cabinets. "You wouldn't happen to have money from 1969 in your amazing pockets do you? Unless you don't want to eat..." she said with a cheeky grin.
"Marthaaaaa." She was being so thorough about everything that he had to stop her. "Everything is under control! We got this!"
Wait, no food? Darn... Back to the pockets he searched. Digging quite deep he started pulling out various odds and ends until he pulled out a very thick wallet banded together to keep it together. "Should be something in here!"
She couldn't help but smile when he sung out her name like that. Martha plopped down next to him as he pulled out the wallet. "Perhaps we can sit for a while. But we will need to go to the store at some point if we want food. And... until we get to know this place better, I'd like you to come with me," she added.
"That's fine, but you're picking out the groceries, or you'll be really tired of sandwiches everyday. I'd do it too." Remember, terrible chef here. It was amazing what little he got by with while alone.
Look at them, being all domestic! The Doctor could get used to this, at least for one week. He breathed in and out and mentally gave himself a pep talk and reminded himself this wasn't anything like being exiled on Earth by the Time Lords and he felt he was going stir crazy. He was more and more appreciative of Martha as time went on.
"Just, as long as I have you with me. That's all I need." She smiled. "I'm quite good at getting decent meals on a budget."
She reached for his hand grinned. "You're so going to take ths place apart aren't you? I can see it in your eyes! You're bored already and we've just arrived."
"I'm not bored!" He was bored. "I'm just trying to be positive that I'll have the TARDIS up and running very soon! I should even start the repairs tonight!" Repairs as in dismantle half the console and drag it home... and potentially not helping Martha's need for sleep one bit.
"Store?"
He was terrible to go grocery shopping with. It was complete with sighs, looks that screamed 'we're going to eat that?', his wandering off somewhere, and to top it off, accidentally getting yelled at for sampling a jam jar. It was a miracle they made it back in one piece not withstanding some few questionable looks from onlookers.
"Just so long as you do so quiet enough that the neighbors don't complain about noise at 2 in the morning. I'm not getting evicted or threatened."
Martha concluded that she could handle any looks anyone gave her when she went to the store by herself from now on. The looks she would get alone would merely be filled with hatred and distrust. The looks she got now... they were lucky they made it home all right... even with a current jam she was sure neither of them were going to use.
Martha handed the heavier bag to the Doctor as they walked home. "I was going to make cookies tonight," she said slightly exasperated. "But I don't know if you deserve them after that display." There was a hint of amusement under her exasperation though; she wasn't fully serious.
It was a bit of a walk, which the Doctor felt a little guilty about, but landed them in a nicer section of the city, "I know someone who might help, just a minute." He grinned at her and knocked on the door. Waiting, the door finally opened by a young looking woman, who eyed the Doctor suspiciously, "Yes, what is it?"
"Doctor Shaw, yes?"
"Yes, that's me." Her expression lightened at the mention of her name, "Who are you?"
"Oh! Did the Department head not contact you?" The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper, glancing at it, then showed her, "Professor... Chadwick.."
"Chadwick? Don't you mean Cartwright?"
"Oh yes, wrong university, I get them mixed up! Anyway, Professor Cartwright suggested I talk to you about housing? See, I'm the new research assistant, and..."
"Oh lovely! No wait, let me get the key!" She shut the door and footsteps were heard as she ran off. The Doctor glanced back at Martha with a cheeky grin.
"My old self will be working with her in a year or so, but don't mention it!" He was really skirting on creating a paradox here...
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"So Mr. Jones. Flirting with paradoxes. I think we can handle that." She slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow. "And the housing will be better than last time? Because that was the smallest flat in the world. Made mine look like a castle!"
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The door opened back up and Miss Shaw handed him a key, "Here you go, sir! Oh? Is this your...wife?"
"Dr. Martha Jones at her service!"
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She smiled back jovially Miss Shaw, deciding not to let her skin color define her. "Just Martha. Mrs. Jones I guess."
Martha took his hand in hers to show marital bliss. They'd have to find some rings to keep people off their scent.
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"Home sweet home!" He flipped on a light and explored a bit. "Ah, lovely, innit?" Spinning on his heels, "I should have us out of here by the end of the week, promise." Surly he could fix the TARDIS in shorter time than that, but at least there was some leeway there for her.
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"A week?" she asked as she moved her way through the apartment, turning lights on and off and trying all the appliances. "Very nice. And the landlady doesn't seem nearly as cranky as the one before. Your tinkering probably won't get us thrown out." She adds with a smile.
"I'll start looking through the classifieds," she continued. "Not that I doubt your skill, but better be safe than sorry."
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Flopping down on the couch, he stretched his legs out. "Think there's a clinic or something that'll hire you?" He hadn't actually found a job himself, he was just happily making things up and scary enough, it worked. Really, he had to be one of the luckiest people in the universe.
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She looked over at him. "Do you still have your ring from last time we played married couple?"
((OOC: I got in!!))
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She looked in the cabinets. "You wouldn't happen to have money from 1969 in your amazing pockets do you? Unless you don't want to eat..." she said with a cheeky grin.
Reply
Wait, no food? Darn... Back to the pockets he searched. Digging quite deep he started pulling out various odds and ends until he pulled out a very thick wallet banded together to keep it together. "Should be something in here!"
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Look at them, being all domestic! The Doctor could get used to this, at least for one week. He breathed in and out and mentally gave himself a pep talk and reminded himself this wasn't anything like being exiled on Earth by the Time Lords and he felt he was going stir crazy. He was more and more appreciative of Martha as time went on.
Reply
She reached for his hand grinned. "You're so going to take ths place apart aren't you? I can see it in your eyes! You're bored already and we've just arrived."
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"Store?"
He was terrible to go grocery shopping with. It was complete with sighs, looks that screamed 'we're going to eat that?', his wandering off somewhere, and to top it off, accidentally getting yelled at for sampling a jam jar. It was a miracle they made it back in one piece not withstanding some few questionable looks from onlookers.
Reply
Martha concluded that she could handle any looks anyone gave her when she went to the store by herself from now on. The looks she would get alone would merely be filled with hatred and distrust. The looks she got now... they were lucky they made it home all right... even with a current jam she was sure neither of them were going to use.
Martha handed the heavier bag to the Doctor as they walked home. "I was going to make cookies tonight," she said slightly exasperated. "But I don't know if you deserve them after that display." There was a hint of amusement under her exasperation though; she wasn't fully serious.
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