A Revelation
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/148091.html">A Revelation by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha/Nine | Rating: G | Spoilers: 1.04 & 1.05)
Title: A Revelation
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Nine
Rating: G
Spoilers: Aliens of London/World War Three
Summary: Martha discovers the truth about 'John Smith'.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: The trip to the British Empire Exhibition that Nine mentions is a reference to The Clockwise Man by Justin Richards. This is the fourth story in my unplanned Martha/Nine fic series. The rest of the stories in the series are Patient, Fish and Chips and Play.
~~~~~~
The Doctor's first thought when he saw the missing poster for Rose wasn't for Rose or her mother, it was for Martha Jones, who must have wondered where he'd disappeared to so abruptly. He knew then that he should have told her that he was a time-travelling alien, so she wouldn't worry about him disappearing for 12 months, not that he'd intended to be gone 12 months. He bit back a curse and ran after Rose; he'd have to find Martha later, once things had calmed down with Rose and her mother.
* * * * * *
Not a day had passed during the last year without Martha Jones wondering what had happened to John Smith for him to suddenly disappear from her life without any kind of warning. She'd tried to find him at first, but without an address for his home or his workplace, and with over 200 John Smiths listed in the London phone book, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. She'd reported him missing to the police, but as they had reasonably pointed out, there was little they could do if he had chosen to disappear voluntarily (and she had no proof he hadn't), and since she was no kin of his, there were no emotional reasons to find him (a lost son, a lost father or a lost husband would have been a slightly different matter).
She'd kept her eyes open for a tall man with prominent ears, close-cropped hair and a manic grin, but she'd never seen him again. Her exams had come and gone, and she was preparing for another round of them when an alien spaceship smashed into Big Ben and then crashed into the Thames.
"Have you heard?" Julia asked, pausing to chat to Martha as she dealt with her third patient who'd been hit by flying shards of glass from the clock tower.
"Heard what?" asked Martha, without looking up from the stitches she was applying to the young woman's face.
"They found a body, a dead alien body, in that crashed spaceship. Imagine if it was brought here?" Julia sounded quite excited at the prospect.
"I expect the military will claim it," Martha responded. She spoke to her patient. "There you go. Come back in a week and we'll remove the stitches for you."
The woman nodded, murmured her thanks and got up to go.
"That's assuming we're all here in a week's time," Julia added.
Martha glared at her friend. "Don't talk nonsense," she said quellingly. She waited until the patient, Mrs Dyson, had left, then asked. "What are you doing down here anyway? I thought Stoker had you helping him?"
"He did, but he sent me down here to help."
"Then hadn't you better help?" asked Martha pointedly, before stepping into the waiting area to call in the next patient.
"You're no fun any more," Julia complained, wandering away from her friend.
Martha scowled; Tish had made the same complaint just two days ago when they'd met for lunch on Martha's day off, and she'd been so hurt by her sister's comment that she'd ended up telling Tish all about the mysterious disappearance of John Smith. Tish had been sympathetic, up to a point, but had strongly advised her sister to forget 'the ungrateful git' and find herself a new man, preferably one who wasn't going to do a disappearing act a mere week after they'd met.
"And how am I supposed to know whether he's going to do that, short of asking 'By the way, are you likely to disappear into the sunset one day before I've barely got to know you?'," she asked crossly.
"Oh Martha, don't be so literal!" Tish exclaimed in exasperation.
And that had been the end of that conversation. But Martha didn't want another man: not that she thought she was in love with John Smith, but she did want to know what had happened to him, why he had disappeared so abruptly.
Sighing, she turned her attention to the mother and son coming towards her, the little boy was holding a torn t-shirt to the top of his head, and there were cuts on his mum's face. She guided them into the cubicle, and waited while the mum sat down, still cradling the boy, whom Martha judged to be around three or four years old, then introduced herself to them both.
* * * * * *
The Doctor gave Rose a key to the TARDIS, anything to keep her quiet while he nipped off: he wanted a look at that alien body, but even more importantly, he wanted to find Martha. He wished he'd thought to get her phone number from her, so he could ring and let her know he was back. Once inside the TARDIS he set the co-ordinates for Martha's street; making short hops was always tricky, but he willed the old girl to get everything right: he didn't want to lose any more time.
Fortunately the TARDIS made the trip correctly and he stepped out onto the street, glancing around and seeing that everyone's eyes automatically slid off the anachronistic Police Box as they made their way home. He hurried across to the front door of Martha's building and quickly let himself in with his sonic screwdriver, then ran up the stairs: if she asked, he'd tell her that someone else in the house had let him in and hope she wouldn't find him out in that little lie.
He rang her doorbell in vain, then pulled out the sonic again, and let himself into her flat.
"Martha? It's me, John. I'm back." He quickly realised that she wasn't home, not even in the shower, and hurried to check her work schedule knowing it was fixed on the fridge door by a magnet.
"Damn!" She was working and wouldn't be home for several more hours. He contemplated leaving her a note, but quickly decided that would be a bad thing to do: she'd wonder how he'd got into her flat when she wasn't there, and he couldn't explain that he was a Time Lord, and all that entailed, in a note. He'd just have to hope this alien business could be cleared up quickly and that he could catch her when she got home from the hospital.
With a dissatisfied growl, he let himself out and ran back down the stairs to the TARDIS, where he set the coordinates for Albion Hospital, even though he would have preferred to head to the Royal Hope instead.
* * * * * *
It was another three hours before the last of the patients left and after they did, Martha stretched her back and rotated her shoulders in an attempt to loosen her muscles; they had become stiff from so much bending over to treat people's injuries.
Time for some tea, she thought, heading upstairs to the staff kitchen, which was quiet, so once she'd made her tea, she wandered on along the corridor to the recreation room where she found everyone huddled around the television, watching the rolling news coverage on the BBC. Julia wasn't there and Martha wondered if she'd gone home already, she had a feeling her friend's shift had ended an hour ago.
She chose a chair near the door and sank down into it, cradling her mug of tea, then leaned back with her eyes closed and half-listened to the reporter on the television, who was talking about experts on aliens arriving at 10 Downing Street. Then she heard Morgenstern comment: "She doesn't look old enough to be an expert in anything, does she?"
Martha opened her eyes and looked over at the screen, but she couldn't see who he meant, so she reluctantly pulled herself up from the chair to look at the screen. The blonde girl barely registered, though, when she saw the man who was accompanying her: one John Smith. She gasped, dropping her mug of tea in shock, and everyone looked around when it smashed on the floor.
"You okay Martha?" asked someone, and she nodded automatically, watching as John Smith waved at the watching reporters, then went inside Number 10 accompanied by the blonde girl who, she noticed, definitely did not look old enough to be expert in anything.
Feeling numb, Martha bent down and began picking up the pieces of china, dropping them into the bin, then she went to the kitchen for a cloth to mop up the spilled tea. By the time she'd finished her task, Martha's brain was whirling: she wondered why John had lied to her about being an engineer, and if he had laughed at her while playing her for a fool. She felt sick with humiliation and blinked back tears, determined that there was no way she was going to cry over him. She took the cloth back to the kitchen, then went to the staff locker room to collect her things, before heading home for some desperately needed sleep.
* * * * * *
The Doctor rang Rose and told her that he'd be ready to head off in a couple of hours time; they could easily have gone straight away, but he absolutely had to see Martha and there was no way he wanted Rose tagging along: this conversation was going to be difficult enough, without bringing a third person into it. He set the coordinates for Martha's street for the second time in 24 hours, and crossed his fingers as his ship moved into the Vortex. Moments later they touched down and he hurried outside, letting himself back into Martha's building, then ran up the stairs again.
This is getting to be a habit, he thought as he reached Martha's door and rang the bell.
Martha had just finished eating when her doorbell rang. She set her empty plate and glass down on the counter, then headed to the door, wondering if it was Mrs Ganesh again; her son worked for the government and she had been very worried the day before that he hadn't rung her: she couldn't get about much and he rang her every day to check she was okay and didn't need anything. Martha had been concerned but unable to help, beyond advising her neighbour that the government was currently in chaos because of the alien landing.
She pulled open the door and found not Mrs Ganesh, but John Smith standing on her doorstep.
"Hello Martha," he said softly. "Can I come in?"
"You bastard!" she exclaimed, then slapped him hard.
"Ow!" He clutched his left cheek where red finger marks were appearing. "Please Martha, I need to talk to you."
"Well I don't need to talk to you!" she snapped. "Get lost!" She slammed the door, then stalked towards her kitchen. She was only half way there before she heard a strange electronic buzzing, and then her front door opened again.
She span around and saw John pocketing a slender metal object. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded furiously.
"I told you, I need to talk to you." He crossed to where she stood and took hold of her shoulders.
She shrugged his hands off and took a step back, eyes wide. "And I told you I don't need to talk to you. Now get out, right now, or I'll call the police."
"Martha, please. I can explain everything if you'll just listen to me for a few minutes." He looked at her desperately.
"You don't owe me any explanations. I saw you on the TV with your latest girlfriend," she told him bitterly. "So whatever lies you've concocted, I don't want to hear them." She backed away towards the phone.
"Martha, my name's the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, in the constellation of Kasterborous, and I'm 900 years old," he said quickly.
"What?" She stopped moving, staring at him in confusion.
"I'm an alien," he told her. "That's why my body temperature is lower than yours. And I'm an expert in aliens, that's why you saw me going to Downing Street yesterday. I've worked with your government in the past."
She shook her head in disbelief. "As lies go, those are pretty good. Much better than 'I was in a car accident and suffered amnesia and forgot who I was and all about you, dear'."
"I'm not lying," he assured her. "I can prove it."
She gave him a sceptical look, but she didn't order him out again, so he stepped closer. "You're a doctor yourself, or nearly, listen to my chest."
"What?"
"Listen to my chest," he repeated, pulling up his jumper.
She frowned at him, but reached down and pulled her white coat from her bag, then fished in the pocket and pulled out a stethoscope. She slipped in the earpieces, then stepped closer and put the chest piece to the left of his chest, her face intent.
Ba-boom-ba-boom-ba-boom went his heart in her ears and she was about to pull away when she caught an echo. She glanced up at his face and he nodded at her encouragingly, so she moved the chest piece across to the right.
Ba-boom-ba-boom-ba-boom. It wasn't an echo, she realised, it was a second heartbeat.
She stepped back, pulling the earpieces from her ears and tucked the stethoscope away again.
"You've got two hearts," she said as he pulled the front of his jumper back down again.
"Yes I have," he answered gently, "and a respiratory by-pass system."
Her eyes widened. "That's why - " She cut herself off, remembering that she'd wondered why their lengthy kisses never seemed to leave him as breathless as they left her.
"That's why I can kiss you and not get out of breath," he said, knowing what she was thinking. "The two hearts is why I've got so much stamina for a man my apparent age. You'd wondered about that, hadn't you?"
Martha felt her face heat up: she had wondered, even as she'd reaped the benefits.
"You disappeared without saying a word," she said, "and maybe that's normal behaviour for Time Lords, but I was worried sick about you. I thought something had happened to you." She stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"It's not normal," he told her, stepping closer. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to disappear for 12 months, but my ship, the TARDIS she's called, she's getting on in years, like me, and she's not always reliable. I thought we'd been gone 12 hours."
"We?" she asked, remembering the blonde girl who'd been with him in Downing Street.
"Rose and me. She's my travelling companion."
"Oh, so that's what they're calling it these days, is it?" Martha asked sharply, stepping back out of his reach again.
The Doctor shook his head. "She really is just my travelling companion," he said. "We went on a trip to the British Empire Exhibition in 1924, and I thought I'd got her back 12 hours after we'd left, after I last saw you, but as I said, the TARDIS isn't entirely reliable.
She shook her head. "You've got a spaceship?" she asked. "But it's not a flash one, like the Enterprise?"
"No it's not, although I was responsible for the - never mind," he said, cutting himself off. "It looks like a blue Police Public Call box. Do you want to see it?"
She noted that he sounded proud of his ship and was slightly tempted, but shook her head. "No thanks. You go and do your Mr Spock thing. I've got exams again soon, and a family who'd go crazy if I suddenly vanished for 12 months without warning."
"You think Rose's mum didn't go crazy?" he asked. "She slapped me, same as you did."
"Can't say I really blame her," Martha answered, turning and heading into her kitchen. "You can see yourself out, can't you?"
The Doctor stood irresolute, wondering what to do. He didn't want to lose his friendship with Martha: she was quick, clever, caring, and fun to be with, and he found himself wanting to show her the wonders of the universe, to take her to meet people like Florence Nightingale and Louis Pasteur, and maybe people like Dickens too.
He went into the kitchen. "Will you come with me, just for one trip?" he asked. "I can take you to meet Pasteur or Nightingale, or anyone else. My way of apologising for disappearing." He gave her a hopeful look.
"I think I preferred your original way of apologising," she commented, turning on the taps and running water into the bowl to wash up.
He stepped up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I could do that," he murmured.
Martha shrugged his hands away. "That was not an invitation," she snapped. "When are you going to get it through that skull of yours? I'm not interested. Go away and don't bother coming back until you're a better man."
"That's your final word then?" he asked, sounding hurt.
She turned and glared up at him, and he gave her a defeated look, then walked away. Martha waited until she heard the front door bang shut, and then sagged against the sink, tears of anger burning her eyes.
Bloody men, they're all the same, even when they're aliens!
As the Doctor set the coordinates to take him on the short hop back to the estate where Rose lived, he made a resolve to return and find Martha again, even if he had to wait years, until after he'd regenerated even. I shall miss you, Dr Martha Jones.
Title: A Revelation
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Nine
Rating: G
Spoilers: Aliens of London/World War Three
Summary: Martha discovers the truth about 'John Smith'.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: The trip to the British Empire Exhibition that Nine mentions is a reference to The Clockwise Man by Justin Richards. This is the fourth story in my unplanned Martha/Nine fic series. The rest of the stories in the series are Patient, Fish and Chips and Play.
~~~~~~
The Doctor's first thought when he saw the missing poster for Rose wasn't for Rose or her mother, it was for Martha Jones, who must have wondered where he'd disappeared to so abruptly. He knew then that he should have told her that he was a time-travelling alien, so she wouldn't worry about him disappearing for 12 months, not that he'd intended to be gone 12 months. He bit back a curse and ran after Rose; he'd have to find Martha later, once things had calmed down with Rose and her mother.
* * * * * *
Not a day had passed during the last year without Martha Jones wondering what had happened to John Smith for him to suddenly disappear from her life without any kind of warning. She'd tried to find him at first, but without an address for his home or his workplace, and with over 200 John Smiths listed in the London phone book, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. She'd reported him missing to the police, but as they had reasonably pointed out, there was little they could do if he had chosen to disappear voluntarily (and she had no proof he hadn't), and since she was no kin of his, there were no emotional reasons to find him (a lost son, a lost father or a lost husband would have been a slightly different matter).
She'd kept her eyes open for a tall man with prominent ears, close-cropped hair and a manic grin, but she'd never seen him again. Her exams had come and gone, and she was preparing for another round of them when an alien spaceship smashed into Big Ben and then crashed into the Thames.
"Have you heard?" Julia asked, pausing to chat to Martha as she dealt with her third patient who'd been hit by flying shards of glass from the clock tower.
"Heard what?" asked Martha, without looking up from the stitches she was applying to the young woman's face.
"They found a body, a dead alien body, in that crashed spaceship. Imagine if it was brought here?" Julia sounded quite excited at the prospect.
"I expect the military will claim it," Martha responded. She spoke to her patient. "There you go. Come back in a week and we'll remove the stitches for you."
The woman nodded, murmured her thanks and got up to go.
"That's assuming we're all here in a week's time," Julia added.
Martha glared at her friend. "Don't talk nonsense," she said quellingly. She waited until the patient, Mrs Dyson, had left, then asked. "What are you doing down here anyway? I thought Stoker had you helping him?"
"He did, but he sent me down here to help."
"Then hadn't you better help?" asked Martha pointedly, before stepping into the waiting area to call in the next patient.
"You're no fun any more," Julia complained, wandering away from her friend.
Martha scowled; Tish had made the same complaint just two days ago when they'd met for lunch on Martha's day off, and she'd been so hurt by her sister's comment that she'd ended up telling Tish all about the mysterious disappearance of John Smith. Tish had been sympathetic, up to a point, but had strongly advised her sister to forget 'the ungrateful git' and find herself a new man, preferably one who wasn't going to do a disappearing act a mere week after they'd met.
"And how am I supposed to know whether he's going to do that, short of asking 'By the way, are you likely to disappear into the sunset one day before I've barely got to know you?'," she asked crossly.
"Oh Martha, don't be so literal!" Tish exclaimed in exasperation.
And that had been the end of that conversation. But Martha didn't want another man: not that she thought she was in love with John Smith, but she did want to know what had happened to him, why he had disappeared so abruptly.
Sighing, she turned her attention to the mother and son coming towards her, the little boy was holding a torn t-shirt to the top of his head, and there were cuts on his mum's face. She guided them into the cubicle, and waited while the mum sat down, still cradling the boy, whom Martha judged to be around three or four years old, then introduced herself to them both.
* * * * * *
The Doctor gave Rose a key to the TARDIS, anything to keep her quiet while he nipped off: he wanted a look at that alien body, but even more importantly, he wanted to find Martha. He wished he'd thought to get her phone number from her, so he could ring and let her know he was back. Once inside the TARDIS he set the co-ordinates for Martha's street; making short hops was always tricky, but he willed the old girl to get everything right: he didn't want to lose any more time.
Fortunately the TARDIS made the trip correctly and he stepped out onto the street, glancing around and seeing that everyone's eyes automatically slid off the anachronistic Police Box as they made their way home. He hurried across to the front door of Martha's building and quickly let himself in with his sonic screwdriver, then ran up the stairs: if she asked, he'd tell her that someone else in the house had let him in and hope she wouldn't find him out in that little lie.
He rang her doorbell in vain, then pulled out the sonic again, and let himself into her flat.
"Martha? It's me, John. I'm back." He quickly realised that she wasn't home, not even in the shower, and hurried to check her work schedule knowing it was fixed on the fridge door by a magnet.
"Damn!" She was working and wouldn't be home for several more hours. He contemplated leaving her a note, but quickly decided that would be a bad thing to do: she'd wonder how he'd got into her flat when she wasn't there, and he couldn't explain that he was a Time Lord, and all that entailed, in a note. He'd just have to hope this alien business could be cleared up quickly and that he could catch her when she got home from the hospital.
With a dissatisfied growl, he let himself out and ran back down the stairs to the TARDIS, where he set the coordinates for Albion Hospital, even though he would have preferred to head to the Royal Hope instead.
* * * * * *
It was another three hours before the last of the patients left and after they did, Martha stretched her back and rotated her shoulders in an attempt to loosen her muscles; they had become stiff from so much bending over to treat people's injuries.
Time for some tea, she thought, heading upstairs to the staff kitchen, which was quiet, so once she'd made her tea, she wandered on along the corridor to the recreation room where she found everyone huddled around the television, watching the rolling news coverage on the BBC. Julia wasn't there and Martha wondered if she'd gone home already, she had a feeling her friend's shift had ended an hour ago.
She chose a chair near the door and sank down into it, cradling her mug of tea, then leaned back with her eyes closed and half-listened to the reporter on the television, who was talking about experts on aliens arriving at 10 Downing Street. Then she heard Morgenstern comment: "She doesn't look old enough to be an expert in anything, does she?"
Martha opened her eyes and looked over at the screen, but she couldn't see who he meant, so she reluctantly pulled herself up from the chair to look at the screen. The blonde girl barely registered, though, when she saw the man who was accompanying her: one John Smith. She gasped, dropping her mug of tea in shock, and everyone looked around when it smashed on the floor.
"You okay Martha?" asked someone, and she nodded automatically, watching as John Smith waved at the watching reporters, then went inside Number 10 accompanied by the blonde girl who, she noticed, definitely did not look old enough to be expert in anything.
Feeling numb, Martha bent down and began picking up the pieces of china, dropping them into the bin, then she went to the kitchen for a cloth to mop up the spilled tea. By the time she'd finished her task, Martha's brain was whirling: she wondered why John had lied to her about being an engineer, and if he had laughed at her while playing her for a fool. She felt sick with humiliation and blinked back tears, determined that there was no way she was going to cry over him. She took the cloth back to the kitchen, then went to the staff locker room to collect her things, before heading home for some desperately needed sleep.
* * * * * *
The Doctor rang Rose and told her that he'd be ready to head off in a couple of hours time; they could easily have gone straight away, but he absolutely had to see Martha and there was no way he wanted Rose tagging along: this conversation was going to be difficult enough, without bringing a third person into it. He set the coordinates for Martha's street for the second time in 24 hours, and crossed his fingers as his ship moved into the Vortex. Moments later they touched down and he hurried outside, letting himself back into Martha's building, then ran up the stairs again.
This is getting to be a habit, he thought as he reached Martha's door and rang the bell.
Martha had just finished eating when her doorbell rang. She set her empty plate and glass down on the counter, then headed to the door, wondering if it was Mrs Ganesh again; her son worked for the government and she had been very worried the day before that he hadn't rung her: she couldn't get about much and he rang her every day to check she was okay and didn't need anything. Martha had been concerned but unable to help, beyond advising her neighbour that the government was currently in chaos because of the alien landing.
She pulled open the door and found not Mrs Ganesh, but John Smith standing on her doorstep.
"Hello Martha," he said softly. "Can I come in?"
"You bastard!" she exclaimed, then slapped him hard.
"Ow!" He clutched his left cheek where red finger marks were appearing. "Please Martha, I need to talk to you."
"Well I don't need to talk to you!" she snapped. "Get lost!" She slammed the door, then stalked towards her kitchen. She was only half way there before she heard a strange electronic buzzing, and then her front door opened again.
She span around and saw John pocketing a slender metal object. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded furiously.
"I told you, I need to talk to you." He crossed to where she stood and took hold of her shoulders.
She shrugged his hands off and took a step back, eyes wide. "And I told you I don't need to talk to you. Now get out, right now, or I'll call the police."
"Martha, please. I can explain everything if you'll just listen to me for a few minutes." He looked at her desperately.
"You don't owe me any explanations. I saw you on the TV with your latest girlfriend," she told him bitterly. "So whatever lies you've concocted, I don't want to hear them." She backed away towards the phone.
"Martha, my name's the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, in the constellation of Kasterborous, and I'm 900 years old," he said quickly.
"What?" She stopped moving, staring at him in confusion.
"I'm an alien," he told her. "That's why my body temperature is lower than yours. And I'm an expert in aliens, that's why you saw me going to Downing Street yesterday. I've worked with your government in the past."
She shook her head in disbelief. "As lies go, those are pretty good. Much better than 'I was in a car accident and suffered amnesia and forgot who I was and all about you, dear'."
"I'm not lying," he assured her. "I can prove it."
She gave him a sceptical look, but she didn't order him out again, so he stepped closer. "You're a doctor yourself, or nearly, listen to my chest."
"What?"
"Listen to my chest," he repeated, pulling up his jumper.
She frowned at him, but reached down and pulled her white coat from her bag, then fished in the pocket and pulled out a stethoscope. She slipped in the earpieces, then stepped closer and put the chest piece to the left of his chest, her face intent.
Ba-boom-ba-boom-ba-boom went his heart in her ears and she was about to pull away when she caught an echo. She glanced up at his face and he nodded at her encouragingly, so she moved the chest piece across to the right.
Ba-boom-ba-boom-ba-boom. It wasn't an echo, she realised, it was a second heartbeat.
She stepped back, pulling the earpieces from her ears and tucked the stethoscope away again.
"You've got two hearts," she said as he pulled the front of his jumper back down again.
"Yes I have," he answered gently, "and a respiratory by-pass system."
Her eyes widened. "That's why - " She cut herself off, remembering that she'd wondered why their lengthy kisses never seemed to leave him as breathless as they left her.
"That's why I can kiss you and not get out of breath," he said, knowing what she was thinking. "The two hearts is why I've got so much stamina for a man my apparent age. You'd wondered about that, hadn't you?"
Martha felt her face heat up: she had wondered, even as she'd reaped the benefits.
"You disappeared without saying a word," she said, "and maybe that's normal behaviour for Time Lords, but I was worried sick about you. I thought something had happened to you." She stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"It's not normal," he told her, stepping closer. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to disappear for 12 months, but my ship, the TARDIS she's called, she's getting on in years, like me, and she's not always reliable. I thought we'd been gone 12 hours."
"We?" she asked, remembering the blonde girl who'd been with him in Downing Street.
"Rose and me. She's my travelling companion."
"Oh, so that's what they're calling it these days, is it?" Martha asked sharply, stepping back out of his reach again.
The Doctor shook his head. "She really is just my travelling companion," he said. "We went on a trip to the British Empire Exhibition in 1924, and I thought I'd got her back 12 hours after we'd left, after I last saw you, but as I said, the TARDIS isn't entirely reliable.
She shook her head. "You've got a spaceship?" she asked. "But it's not a flash one, like the Enterprise?"
"No it's not, although I was responsible for the - never mind," he said, cutting himself off. "It looks like a blue Police Public Call box. Do you want to see it?"
She noted that he sounded proud of his ship and was slightly tempted, but shook her head. "No thanks. You go and do your Mr Spock thing. I've got exams again soon, and a family who'd go crazy if I suddenly vanished for 12 months without warning."
"You think Rose's mum didn't go crazy?" he asked. "She slapped me, same as you did."
"Can't say I really blame her," Martha answered, turning and heading into her kitchen. "You can see yourself out, can't you?"
The Doctor stood irresolute, wondering what to do. He didn't want to lose his friendship with Martha: she was quick, clever, caring, and fun to be with, and he found himself wanting to show her the wonders of the universe, to take her to meet people like Florence Nightingale and Louis Pasteur, and maybe people like Dickens too.
He went into the kitchen. "Will you come with me, just for one trip?" he asked. "I can take you to meet Pasteur or Nightingale, or anyone else. My way of apologising for disappearing." He gave her a hopeful look.
"I think I preferred your original way of apologising," she commented, turning on the taps and running water into the bowl to wash up.
He stepped up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I could do that," he murmured.
Martha shrugged his hands away. "That was not an invitation," she snapped. "When are you going to get it through that skull of yours? I'm not interested. Go away and don't bother coming back until you're a better man."
"That's your final word then?" he asked, sounding hurt.
She turned and glared up at him, and he gave her a defeated look, then walked away. Martha waited until she heard the front door bang shut, and then sagged against the sink, tears of anger burning her eyes.
Bloody men, they're all the same, even when they're aliens!
As the Doctor set the coordinates to take him on the short hop back to the estate where Rose lived, he made a resolve to return and find Martha again, even if he had to wait years, until after he'd regenerated even. I shall miss you, Dr Martha Jones.