These Are the Days of Our Lives (6/7)
Title: These Are the Days of Our Lives (6/7)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Martha
Rating: U
Spoilers: Season 3 up to Blink
Summary: Snapshots from Martha and the Doctor's life in 1969.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: This story is for _starrystarry for the smith_n_jones 1969 ficathon. The prompts were '60s student riots, geekery (possibly of the Shakespeare variety), getting lost.
Officially I've written two fics for this Ficathon, but the Bunny!Muses, being utterly voracious, liked several of the other prompts that were put up by smith_n_jones members, this (official fic) is the sixth of a series of seven linked stories: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5.
The "trouble at LSE" which Ten mentions at the start is a reference to student riots at the London School of Economics, during which newly installed steel security gates were smashed as the students believed they made the building look like a concentration camp. The LSE was closed for a few weeks until the matter was sorted out.
Beta: padawanpooh the faithful.
~~~~~~
"I see they've finally sorted out that trouble at LSE," the Doctor commented to Martha as they were washing up after dinner.
"I always thought the Sixties were supposed to be swinging," Martha said, "Not the era of student riots."
He shrugged. "Can't blame people for wanting equal rights."
"Oh I don't. I just meant that there're bits of history that I wasn't taught at school."
"Well - " The rest of his remark was lost to a peculiar dinging noise. They looked at each other in momentary surprise. "Billy!" the Doctor exclaimed.
They quickly dried their hands, then grabbed their coats and the timey-wimey device, before rushing out the door.
"I hope we can find him without getting lost," Martha said breathlessly as they ran along the street.
"He's not too far away," the Doctor answered.
Sure enough, they found him three streets further on and the Doctor sat down beside him to try to explain what had happened.
"Trust me," Martha told Billy at one point, "just nod when he stops for breath."
The Doctor flicked a smiling glance up at her face as she leant on the railing, smiling back at him.
They took Billy back to their place since it was too late to go looking for a room that night. "You can sleep on the sofa," the Doctor assured him. He caught Martha's surprised look and jerked his head at the kitchen.
"Do you want some tea?" she asked Billy.
"Wouldn't say no," he answered.
Martha went into the kitchen, wondering where the Doctor was planning to spend the night, if Billy was sleeping on their sofa. The Doctor came in a moment later as she filled the kettle.
"You'd better sleep in with me tonight," she told him as he opened the cupboard and got out the bread.
He looked up, startled. "I was going to find a park bench," he said.
"No way," she answered flatly. "It's a double bed, it's designed for two people. And it's only for one night."
"OK, thank you." He kissed her forehead, then set about making a sandwich for Billy to go with his tea.
* * * * * *
An hour later, Billy was still feeling rough after his trip through Time, so Martha fetched some blankets and once he had got himself comfortable on the sofa, they retreated to the bedroom.
"Do you want to sleep yet?" the Doctor asked Martha.
She looked at her watch, then shook her head. "It's still a bit early." She sat on the bed and pulled her shoes off, then looked up at the Time Lord. "Do sit down. I'm not going to bite."
He gave her a mad grin, then pulled off his Converse and flopped backwards onto the bed. "What shall we do then? Play a game?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, still grinning.
"What? I-Spy?"
He glanced around the Spartan room. "That might get boring rather quickly, don't you think? Truth or Dare? 20 Questions? Guess the Quote?"
"Guess the Quote?" Martha asked. "Not heard of that one before."
"It's quite simple. One person offers a quote, from literature, film or TV, and the other person has to guess its origin."
"Sounds like that radio show, 'Quote Unquote'," she observed.
"That's the ticket. Want to play?"
"Why not." She flopped down onto the bed beside him. "You can start, but no cheating. No quoting aliens."
"Martha Jones, what are you implying?" He sat back up and looked at her in mock-indignation.
"That you'd cheat if you thought you could get away with it," she answered, pulling his arm to get him to lie down again.
He flopped back down again, then reached out and slid his hand into hers. "Here we go then. The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
"Shakespeare's Hamlet," Martha replied instantly.
"Correct. Your turn."
"All that glisters is not gold."
"Shakespeare again. The Merchant of Venice." He squeezed her fingers.
"Hmm. I should pick someone other than Shakespeare, shouldn't I?" she asked, rolling onto her side to face him.
He rolled to face her, still holding her hand. "Might be an idea," he agreed. "Another one?"
"Go on then."
"We should be woo'd and were not made to woo." He quirked an eyebrow at her when she didn't instantly answer.
"I feel I ought to know that one, but nothing's springing to mind." She frowned in puzzlement and he let go of her hand to rub a fingertip across her brow.
"You'll get frown lines," he said softly. Her eyes widened and he pulled his hand away. "Do you want to guess?"
"No, tell me."
"A Midsummer Night's Dream."
"Oh! Haven't seen that one. Your turn again, I guess?"
"An easier one this time, I think. We are such stuff as dreams are made on."
"Oh, The Tempest!" She grinned at him and he grinned back. "OK. My turn. You have the right to remain silent, what you lack is the capacity."
"Well that's definitely not Shakespeare," he said thoughtfully. "No, don't know it."
"Shrek 2," she answered with a giggle.
"Shrek 2? That's sneaky."
Martha smirked. "My turn again, I believe."
"Do your worst," he sighed.
"Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
"That's easy!" he said, grinning. "The Lord of the Rings."
"I bet you know the whole of the Rings rhyme, don't you?" she asked. "You're the sort to know it all."
He took a breath, then recited: "Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, / Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, / Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, / One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne / In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. / One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, / One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them / In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie."
Martha rolled her eyes, but she was grinning at him.
"And I know the 'One Ring' bit in Orkish," he told her. "Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
"Geek!" she teased.
"Nerd!" he retorted.
"Dork!"
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. The Doctor pulled her closer and she buried her face in his chest in an attempt to stifle her laugher so she wouldn't disturb Billy.
Once they'd got over their laughter, they started talking about Tolkien's works until Martha started yawning. The Doctor went through to the kitchen whilst she got ready for bed, then returned to the bedroom. He took off his tie, jacket, shirt and socks, then settled next to Martha in his t-shirt and trousers.
"I hope you don't snore," she said sleepily.
"I don't."
"Good." She turned onto her side and was asleep a few minutes later; the Doctor lay listening to her soft breathing for a few minutes, then spooned up behind her. She murmured as he slipped his arms around her middle, but didn't wake.
* * * * * *
When Martha got home from work the next day Billy was gone. The Doctor assured her they'd found him somewhere reasonable to stay, and passed on Billy's invitation to go and eat with them the following week.
"He's going to help me with the Easter Egg for Sally," the Doctor said. "I thought we might do that one day next week before you go back to work."
"OK."
"I bet you're looking forward to your time off?" he asked.
"Definitely. Five whole days of not dealing with wedding induced madness."
"Five days of having a lie-in too," he observed.
"Bliss!" Martha answered.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Martha
Rating: U
Spoilers: Season 3 up to Blink
Summary: Snapshots from Martha and the Doctor's life in 1969.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: This story is for _starrystarry for the smith_n_jones 1969 ficathon. The prompts were '60s student riots, geekery (possibly of the Shakespeare variety), getting lost.
Officially I've written two fics for this Ficathon, but the Bunny!Muses, being utterly voracious, liked several of the other prompts that were put up by smith_n_jones members, this (official fic) is the sixth of a series of seven linked stories: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5.
The "trouble at LSE" which Ten mentions at the start is a reference to student riots at the London School of Economics, during which newly installed steel security gates were smashed as the students believed they made the building look like a concentration camp. The LSE was closed for a few weeks until the matter was sorted out.
Beta: padawanpooh the faithful.
~~~~~~
"I see they've finally sorted out that trouble at LSE," the Doctor commented to Martha as they were washing up after dinner.
"I always thought the Sixties were supposed to be swinging," Martha said, "Not the era of student riots."
He shrugged. "Can't blame people for wanting equal rights."
"Oh I don't. I just meant that there're bits of history that I wasn't taught at school."
"Well - " The rest of his remark was lost to a peculiar dinging noise. They looked at each other in momentary surprise. "Billy!" the Doctor exclaimed.
They quickly dried their hands, then grabbed their coats and the timey-wimey device, before rushing out the door.
"I hope we can find him without getting lost," Martha said breathlessly as they ran along the street.
"He's not too far away," the Doctor answered.
Sure enough, they found him three streets further on and the Doctor sat down beside him to try to explain what had happened.
"Trust me," Martha told Billy at one point, "just nod when he stops for breath."
The Doctor flicked a smiling glance up at her face as she leant on the railing, smiling back at him.
They took Billy back to their place since it was too late to go looking for a room that night. "You can sleep on the sofa," the Doctor assured him. He caught Martha's surprised look and jerked his head at the kitchen.
"Do you want some tea?" she asked Billy.
"Wouldn't say no," he answered.
Martha went into the kitchen, wondering where the Doctor was planning to spend the night, if Billy was sleeping on their sofa. The Doctor came in a moment later as she filled the kettle.
"You'd better sleep in with me tonight," she told him as he opened the cupboard and got out the bread.
He looked up, startled. "I was going to find a park bench," he said.
"No way," she answered flatly. "It's a double bed, it's designed for two people. And it's only for one night."
"OK, thank you." He kissed her forehead, then set about making a sandwich for Billy to go with his tea.
* * * * * *
An hour later, Billy was still feeling rough after his trip through Time, so Martha fetched some blankets and once he had got himself comfortable on the sofa, they retreated to the bedroom.
"Do you want to sleep yet?" the Doctor asked Martha.
She looked at her watch, then shook her head. "It's still a bit early." She sat on the bed and pulled her shoes off, then looked up at the Time Lord. "Do sit down. I'm not going to bite."
He gave her a mad grin, then pulled off his Converse and flopped backwards onto the bed. "What shall we do then? Play a game?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, still grinning.
"What? I-Spy?"
He glanced around the Spartan room. "That might get boring rather quickly, don't you think? Truth or Dare? 20 Questions? Guess the Quote?"
"Guess the Quote?" Martha asked. "Not heard of that one before."
"It's quite simple. One person offers a quote, from literature, film or TV, and the other person has to guess its origin."
"Sounds like that radio show, 'Quote Unquote'," she observed.
"That's the ticket. Want to play?"
"Why not." She flopped down onto the bed beside him. "You can start, but no cheating. No quoting aliens."
"Martha Jones, what are you implying?" He sat back up and looked at her in mock-indignation.
"That you'd cheat if you thought you could get away with it," she answered, pulling his arm to get him to lie down again.
He flopped back down again, then reached out and slid his hand into hers. "Here we go then. The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
"Shakespeare's Hamlet," Martha replied instantly.
"Correct. Your turn."
"All that glisters is not gold."
"Shakespeare again. The Merchant of Venice." He squeezed her fingers.
"Hmm. I should pick someone other than Shakespeare, shouldn't I?" she asked, rolling onto her side to face him.
He rolled to face her, still holding her hand. "Might be an idea," he agreed. "Another one?"
"Go on then."
"We should be woo'd and were not made to woo." He quirked an eyebrow at her when she didn't instantly answer.
"I feel I ought to know that one, but nothing's springing to mind." She frowned in puzzlement and he let go of her hand to rub a fingertip across her brow.
"You'll get frown lines," he said softly. Her eyes widened and he pulled his hand away. "Do you want to guess?"
"No, tell me."
"A Midsummer Night's Dream."
"Oh! Haven't seen that one. Your turn again, I guess?"
"An easier one this time, I think. We are such stuff as dreams are made on."
"Oh, The Tempest!" She grinned at him and he grinned back. "OK. My turn. You have the right to remain silent, what you lack is the capacity."
"Well that's definitely not Shakespeare," he said thoughtfully. "No, don't know it."
"Shrek 2," she answered with a giggle.
"Shrek 2? That's sneaky."
Martha smirked. "My turn again, I believe."
"Do your worst," he sighed.
"Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."
"That's easy!" he said, grinning. "The Lord of the Rings."
"I bet you know the whole of the Rings rhyme, don't you?" she asked. "You're the sort to know it all."
He took a breath, then recited: "Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, / Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, / Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, / One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne / In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. / One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, / One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them / In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie."
Martha rolled her eyes, but she was grinning at him.
"And I know the 'One Ring' bit in Orkish," he told her. "Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
"Geek!" she teased.
"Nerd!" he retorted.
"Dork!"
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. The Doctor pulled her closer and she buried her face in his chest in an attempt to stifle her laugher so she wouldn't disturb Billy.
Once they'd got over their laughter, they started talking about Tolkien's works until Martha started yawning. The Doctor went through to the kitchen whilst she got ready for bed, then returned to the bedroom. He took off his tie, jacket, shirt and socks, then settled next to Martha in his t-shirt and trousers.
"I hope you don't snore," she said sleepily.
"I don't."
"Good." She turned onto her side and was asleep a few minutes later; the Doctor lay listening to her soft breathing for a few minutes, then spooned up behind her. She murmured as he slipped his arms around her middle, but didn't wake.
* * * * * *
When Martha got home from work the next day Billy was gone. The Doctor assured her they'd found him somewhere reasonable to stay, and passed on Billy's invitation to go and eat with them the following week.
"He's going to help me with the Easter Egg for Sally," the Doctor said. "I thought we might do that one day next week before you go back to work."
"OK."
"I bet you're looking forward to your time off?" he asked.
"Definitely. Five whole days of not dealing with wedding induced madness."
"Five days of having a lie-in too," he observed.
"Bliss!" Martha answered.