[Private RPG with isitthesmile - AU
Martha Jones was not surprise to receive Harold Saxon's call. Nor was she surprised that he asked if she would like to see him that night. They had been seeing each other on random, sporadic evenings (and the occasional afternoon and one early morning) since the elevator broke down over the last few months. The dates, because there was no mistaking them for anything else, were few and far between, and they nearly always seemed to occur last moment. Sometimes she called him, but more often she waited for his call.
Harold Saxon was a busy man after all.
She had enough on her plate herself so it didn't bother her that sometimes she went weeks without seeing him. She had her studies to focus on and taking care of her family, which seemed to have a new problem every day. A handful, really. Harold provided a nice escape from her responsibilities. It was very easy to be herself around him.
Although it seemed, the more times that she saw him, the more she thought about him and the things he said in his absence.
There was just something about him, some quality that she had never seen in anyone else. The world seemed different in his presence, and she understood how he came to be in the position he was in. Something about him simply drew you in.
Martha alternated between waiting at the door and fixing her hair and make up as she waited. He has never late... or early even, but she couldn't help the ritual. The thought of seeing him, again, always sent this warm electric sort of current through her body. A dance song plays loudly from her speakers and she swings her hips along to the beat, singing in a distracted sort of murmur as she puts the finishing touches on her mascara.
Harold Saxon was a busy man after all.
She had enough on her plate herself so it didn't bother her that sometimes she went weeks without seeing him. She had her studies to focus on and taking care of her family, which seemed to have a new problem every day. A handful, really. Harold provided a nice escape from her responsibilities. It was very easy to be herself around him.
Although it seemed, the more times that she saw him, the more she thought about him and the things he said in his absence.
There was just something about him, some quality that she had never seen in anyone else. The world seemed different in his presence, and she understood how he came to be in the position he was in. Something about him simply drew you in.
Martha alternated between waiting at the door and fixing her hair and make up as she waited. He has never late... or early even, but she couldn't help the ritual. The thought of seeing him, again, always sent this warm electric sort of current through her body. A dance song plays loudly from her speakers and she swings her hips along to the beat, singing in a distracted sort of murmur as she puts the finishing touches on her mascara.