A Shift in Perspective (2/10)
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/153500.html">A Shift in Perspective (2/10) by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha Jones, Ninth Doctor, Torchwood Team | Rating: G | Spoilers: Rose)
Title: A Shift in Perspective (2/10)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, Ninth Doctor, Torchwood Team
Rating: G
Spoilers: Rose, Season 3
Summary: The Tenth Doctor goes missing and it's up to Martha Jones to track him down again, but it proves both harder and more instructive than she expects.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: This is the second in a ten chapter story that's set a couple of months after S4. Ages ago the Doctor Who Random Pairing generator gave me "Martha Jones / Sgt Benton / A Shift in Perspective" and for a while I thought I was going to write a timey-wimey fic where Martha meets Benton, but then the idea of Ten going missing and Martha having to track him down, and encountering all his other incarnations along the way, came up.
Many thanks to my Beta readers for this chapter: 80sgirl80, ladymako71 and most especially shadowturquoise, who has done sterling work in making sure this didn't utterly suck!
Index Post
~~~~~~
Martha staggered as she landed after the jump from Wales, and she leaned against a wall, eyes closed as she caught her breath; travelling via Jack's Vortex Manipulator didn't get any less nauseating, she'd found. She opened her eyes and found that wherever or whenever she'd arrived, it was dark and after a moment she realised that she was somewhere up high: she could see lights below her, enough for a large city.
She pushed herself away from the wall and walked forward, wondering where the Doctor was, and just what he was doing on a city rooftop.
"Who the hell are you?" demanded a voice angrily, his Northern accent clearly audible even in those few words. "And what are you doing up here?"
Before she could answer, a large hand was grasping Martha's shoulder in a tight grip and she was tugged towards the edge of the roof where there was more light.
"Martha Jones," she answered quickly, looking up into the stormy face above her and noting the short cropped hair and large ears above his dark clothes. "I'm looking for you, Doctor, well not you exactly."
His glare intensified and she hurried to explain. "I'm one of your companions, and the incarnation of you that I know has gone missing. I'm trying to track you, well him, down."
"Rubbish, I don't have any companions! Stupid apes, always getting under foot and causing trouble."
She glowered at him, even as her mind raced to work out how to convince him; it hadn't occurred to her that her story wouldn't be believed.
"You're a Time Lord from Gallifrey, and you travel through Time and Space in a ship called the TARDIS, which looks like a big blue Police Box on the outside, but is infinitely huge on the inside. She's got coral support struts throughout the Control Room, and the light in there is a green-gold colour. She always hums a greeting at you when you go inside after being away."
He looked at her, and she knew that he knew there was no way she could know all of that if she hadn't been inside the ship.
"Well you can't stay here," he told her roughly, "I'm just about to blow up this thing," he gestured to a large electronic device in one corner, "so get down to the street. If I survive, you can talk to me afterwards."
Martha glared at him. "If you think I'm going to leave you up here on your own, you've got another think coming mister."
"Cheeky ape!" he exclaimed; even in the semi-darkness she could see sparks of anger in his eyes.
She folded her arms across her chest and glared again. "Arrogant Time Lord," she retorted.
He grinned madly, with an abrupt change of mood that startled her. "Not bad," he said, before spinning around and hurrying across the rooftop to the device. Martha followed him closely, wondering what he was up to.
She watched as he quickly wired a bomb, which he'd pulled from the pocket of his leather jacket, onto the side of the device, and made some adjustments with precise, delicate tweaks of the controls; she noted absently that his fingers weren't quite as long or slender as those of the Doctor she knew, but they still moved deftly.
The next moment he sprang up and grabbed her elbow, then slid his hand down to grasp hers.
"Run?" she suggested, half smiling up at him.
"Run," he agreed happily, pulling her forward.
They'd barely gone half a dozen paces towards the lit doorway on the other side of the roof, when Martha caught her foot on something she hadn't seen in the darkness, and the Doctor staggered with her as she struggled to keep her feet.
"Clumsy ape!" he yelled, even as he turned and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her bodily towards the doorway. They were still a couple of paces away when there was a dull bang behind them, and the force of the explosion threw them both off their feet and into the wall beside the door.
Martha opened her eyes a few moments later with a groan, her whole body aching. The Doctor lay unmoving beside her and she bit back a cry, trying not to panic at the thought that she might have got him killed at the wrong point in his personal timeline. She worriedly felt for his pulse and was deeply relieved when she found both hearts beating steadily in his neck.
A moment later he gave a quiet groan.
"Can you move?" she asked, aware of the approaching emergency services whose sirens were cutting through the night with shrill insistence.
The Doctor groaned a second time and she watched as he gingerly moved onto his hands and knees, eyes screwed shut in pain.
"Remind me why I bother saving you stupid apes?" he asked through clenched teeth. "Well?" he barked, when she didn't immediately answer.
"I don't know, I'm sure," Martha retorted, irritated by his repeated references to apes. "We need to get out of here before the emergency services find us and start asking awkward questions. Can you walk?"
He carefully picked himself up, stifling further groans, and she watched anxiously, noting his wince when he put his weight on his right leg. She wondered where he'd left the TARDIS, knowing it would be better to take him there than to a hospital.
"Well don't just stand there, you stupid ape, help me!" he snarled.
Martha scowled, but she moved to his side and allowed him to drape his right arm around her shoulders so he could take some of his weight off his leg, then helped him through the doorway onto the narrow stairs.
They made it down to the top floor of the building, and the Doctor directed her towards the lift, into which they manoeuvred themselves with a little difficulty.
"Where's the TARDIS?" Martha asked as they reached the ground floor and she helped him out of the lift, then across to a fire exit.
"Down the street, on the right," he answered.
As they moved away, Martha glanced back at the building and saw it was Henricks, which told her exactly when and where she was: she clearly remembered hearing about the explosion at the department store a few years ago; at the time no one had been able to explain what had caused it, but now she knew. She pushed the thought aside, knowing it wasn't relevant to what she had to do.
They reached the TARDIS and the Doctor began fumbling for his key, but Martha was already pulling hers from the neck of her t-shirt.
"May I?" she asked, and on receiving a weary nod, she unlocked the door and helped him inside.
Martha couldn't help smiling a little at the hum of greeting that filled her head as she helped the Doctor across the Control Room and into the corridor as they headed to the Medical Bay.
"She knows you," he observed as she settled him onto a chair, then quickly pulled off her jacket. "Likes you too, unless I'm out in me reckoning."
"I like her too," Martha responded as she lowered one of the beds, before approaching the Doctor. "Let's see what the damage is, shall we?"
He grumbled under his breath, but allowed her to remove his jacket and shoes before limping over to sit on the bed. He watched her as she scrubbed her hands, then pulled on a pair of latex gloves.
"I found meself another doctor to travel with, then," he observed as she moved back to his side.
"I didn't know you'd previously travelled with other doctors," she commented as she began to examine him with a brisk, professional manner.
"One or two," he answered tersely, biting back a moan as she touched his right shin.
Martha pulled the portable X-ray machine closer. "We need to get your jeans off," she told him impersonally. "I think you've got a fracture, but I need to check."
"Don't cut 'em," he said gruffly, then fumbled with the button and zip. He gave a little grunt as he tried to ease them down, and Martha quickly moved to assist him, pushing aside the slight awkwardness she felt about undressing the Doctor, a feeling she apparently couldn't overcome despite not fancying him any longer.
They got his jeans off between them, and Martha used the X-ray machine to confirm he'd fractured the bone just below his kneecap.
"I know you heal fast, but you're going to have to rest this for at least 48 hours," she told him as she strapped up his leg. "And by rest, I mean put as little weight on it as possible."
"I'll rest after I save the world," he said as he pulled his jeans back up.
"You'll rest it before that," Martha said sternly, "unless you want to be lame for the rest of this incarnation?" He glared at her, but she gave him a bland look. "You're in a time machine, remember? Which means you can come back in five minutes time and yet have been gone for three months if necessary."
The Doctor gave her a grudging smile. "Bossy, ain't you?"
"Someone has to be," she responded, opening a cupboard in the corner and taking out a pair of crutches. "Here. The sooner we get the TARDIS into the Vortex, the sooner you can put your feet up."
He took the crutches from her. "What's this 'we'?" he asked, swinging himself across to the door and out into the corridor.
"I've seen the way you pilot the TARDIS," she reminded him. "You can't do that with a dodgy leg."
"I can manage on me own, have been for some time now, and I certainly don't need some silly ape to help me."
Martha ground her teeth in silent annoyance at his 'ape' remark; he was a bit too fond of that term, she decided. "That's fine when you've got two strong legs to run around the console on," she said, "but at the moment you haven't, so don't be so bloody stubborn."
His only response to that was a grunt.
As she followed him into the Control Room, Martha couldn't help remembering the last time she'd been in here with "her" Doctor, and the amazing experience of helping to pilot the TARDIS with the Doctor, Jack, Sarah Jane, Mickey and Rose; she wished she could tell him about it, but knew she mustn't. She wasn't sure which incarnation she'd found this time, but the glimpses of darkness lurking in the depths of his eyes made her suspect he'd already seen the Time War.
She pushed her thoughts aside, knowing she needed to concentrate on helping the Doctor move the TARDIS off Earth.
Between the two of them they got the TARDIS into the Vortex, after which she chivvied the Doctor, who protested in mutters all the way, to his bedroom. It was dark and almost bare of any personal belongings, and the four-poster bed hadn't been made.
"Sit down," Martha told him, "and I'll make up the bed."
"I can sleep on the mattress," he said gruffly.
"Why be more uncomfortable?" she asked. "Your leg's going to cause you enough discomfort, as well as sleeping in your clothes."
He didn't answer, but she felt him watching her as she swiftly sorted out sheets, pillowcases and blankets, and quickly made the bed.
"How old are you?" he asked abruptly as she plumped up the pillows.
Martha paused for a moment before answering. "Twenty five, nearly twenty six."
"Huh."
"How old are you?" she asked curiously.
He frowned. "Old enough." His manner was forbidding, so Martha didn't push him for a more specific answer; instead she patted the bed and gave him an expectant look.
"Do you always push me around?" he asked grumpily as he settled on the bed.
"No, although I can't help thinking I ought to have done it more often," she answered, darting a laughing look at his stormy expression. She was coming to the conclusion that this Doctor's bark was worse than his bite, and she thought he quite liked the fact that he couldn't intimidate her easily.
"Do you want something to eat? And some tea?" she asked.
"Coffee with milk, but no sugar." There was a little pause before he added "please" in a gruff tone.
"What about food?"
He shrugged. "Don't know what's in the kitchen."
She shook her head in disbelief, then went away to find out.
When Martha returned about twenty minutes later, the Doctor was sitting stiffly in exactly the same position in which she'd left him, looking as if relaxing was something only other people did. She set down the tray she'd brought with her, then moved the bedside table into a more convenient position so he wouldn't have to reach across awkwardly.
"Thanks." For all his earlier lack of interest, Martha noted that the Doctor was sniffing appreciatively at the scents that were wafting from the covered dishes on the tray.
"The kitchen's quite well stocked," she told him, lifting the cover off one of the bowls, before passing it to him with a spoon.
"Is it?" He accepted the bowl of thick vegetable broth, and wasted no time in devouring it and some chunks of bread.
Watching him from the corner of her eye as she ate at a more dignified pace, Martha wondered when he'd last eaten, and when he'd last had a companion to worry about such things as regular meals.
"So why were you looking for me?" asked the Doctor once they'd eaten their fill and were drinking their coffee.
Martha began to explain what had happened to the Doctor she knew, being careful not to mention any names, but after a few minutes he interrupted her.
"This will make more sense if you give me all the details," he told her.
"What about your personal timeline?" she asked anxiously.
"I can get the TARDIS to wipe my memories of meeting you," he assured her.
"Okay." She began again from the beginning, explaining about the Rift in Cardiff, the Torchwood Institute that was situated there, and those who worked for it, then told him what had happened to the Doctor she knew.
"Show me the Vortex device please?" he asked once she'd finished explaining her encounter with his third incarnation in Wales.
Martha pushed up her sleeve and unstrapped the device from her wrist, then handed it to him.
The Doctor gave a soft grunt and she wondered if he recognised it; Jack had told her that he'd first met the Doctor when he had still been a rogue Time Agent. She watched as he pulled his sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his jeans and began to fiddle with the settings on the Vortex Manipulator.
"You realise you could end up running into all of my incarnations before this thing's sufficiently recalibrated to find the version of me you know?" He spoke without looking up from his work.
"I know, but what else can I do?"
He shrugged, then handed back the device. "I don't know," he admitted.
"Neither did your earlier self," Martha said. "So, which one are you? The first one I met told me he was in his third body.
"That dandy?" he scoffed. "All velvet and ruffles, looked a right berk, if you ask me."
She gave him a look, arms folded across her chest and one eyebrow raised.
"This is my ninth body," he told her. "Which one are you travelling with?" He shook his head, then corrected himself. "Which one do you know?"
"Sarah Jane thinks you're in your tenth incarnation now, from what he, you - " she frowned momentarily over her pronoun confusion, "told her."
"I'm glad to know I'll see her again," he said, his normally severe expression lightening a little. "She's been a good friend to me. Like you will be, I think." He spoke reluctantly and Martha looked up in surprise at such a favourable remark from him.
"Don't look so surprised, girl," he said roughly. "How soon until I meet you properly?"
"Not for a few more years from now in my personal timeline," Martha answered, half distracted. She'd been wondering about Rose, and where she fitted in: from what Jack had told her, Rose had travelled with this incarnation of the Doctor as well as the one Martha knew. She was wondering what it would be like to travel with this gruff Northerner who seemed calmer, if more intense, than the Doctor she knew. There was a curious vulnerability about him that made her healer's instincts tingle, and she suddenly wondered how long it had been since the Time War had ended.
"What are you thinking about?" asked the Doctor, sounding curious.
"You," she answered honestly.
He barked a laugh. "Why are you thinking about me? Surely you've more important people to think about? Got a fella, haven't you?" he asked, nodding at her left hand.
Martha fiddled with her engagement ring. "Yeah."
"You don't sound very happy about it," he observed shrewdly. "Not running away are you?"
"Sort of," she admitted as she got up and began gathering up the things from their meal.
"Want to tell me about it?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle for once.
"Thought I was just an ape to you?" she asked, picking up the full tray.
He had the grace to look slightly ashamed. "I say things in the heat of anger that I don't always mean," he said.
"No need for me to bore you," Martha answered, going out with the tray before he could answer.
* * * * * *
As she washed up, Martha thought back to the moment when she had stepped down off the train from London at Cardiff station to find a very familiar tall man in a blue greatcoat waiting for her on the platform.
"Hello Jack," she said as he stepped up to her, his arms held wide.
"Martha Jones, my own sweet nightingale," he answered, his grin widening when she momentarily flushed with embarrassment.
She allowed him to envelop her in a bear hug and felt a little of her tension from the previous three days of arguments with Tom slipping away as he strong arms wrapped across her back.
"When are you going to stop with that awful joke?" she asked, wrapping her own arms around him in turn.
"Pretty much never," he answered, "it's just too apt a nickname for you."
She sighed, resigned to his teasing, and felt him kiss the top of her head.
"Come on, let's get you settled at the hotel, then we can catch up at the Hub - the others are waiting to see you again."
They grabbed Martha's bags, then went inside and collected a key card from a receptionist who immediately started patting her hair when Jack walked in. Martha saw him give her a wink and a smile before he led the way over to the lift.
"Friend of yours?" she enquired as they travelled up to the fourth floor to Martha's suite.
"You know me, Martha, I'm a friendly guy," he responded with another wink, opening the door for her.
"Have you slept with everyone in Cardiff?" she asked.
"Not everyone, not yet." He gave her a look that caused her stomach to do an odd sort of flip-flop.
She set down her laptop on the coffee table, deciding not to rise to his bait. "Be good," she told him, shrugging out of her jacket.
"I would be good. I am always good."
"Stop it, Jack," she said, sitting down to take off her boots. "Go and flirt with your friend downstairs while I have a shower, and come back in half an hour.
He straightened up and gave her a salute. "Ma'am."
When Jack returned Martha was feeling clean and considerably more relaxed. She pulled on her boots, then picked up her coat.
The drive to the Hub only took a few minutes, but gave Jack the opportunity to ask after Martha's family.
"They're all good," she said, "and Mum says you're welcome to come and have dinner next time you're in London."
"I'd love to," Jack said enthusiastically. "Will the lovely Letitia be there as well?"
"And her fella, I expect," Martha answered, watching his face fall for just a moment, before he grinned.
"Think they'd be up for a threesome?" he asked.
"Jack! You're completely incorrigible, aren't you?"
They stepped onto the paving stone of the invisible lift and Jack slipped his arm around her to hold her steady as it started to descend.
"Okay?" he asked as they sank below the level of the pavement and she saw Myfanwy flying around below them.
"Yeah!" she exclaimed a little breathlessly. "This is amazing!" She knew about the invisible lift, but she hadn't used it the last time she'd been at the Hub, and she felt a little spurt of excitement, just like she did whenever she opened the TARDIS door after the ship arrived somewhere new.
He grinned at her excitement, then pointed out Gwen and Ianto, who were watching them descend. She waved at them both, and Gwen waved back, while Ianto nodded, and Martha felt a pang of grief at the thought of Tosh and Owen, and wondered how the surviving members of the team were coping on a day-to-day basis.
The bump of the paving stone as it reached its destination shook Martha from her reverie, and she stepped off the lift to greet Gwen and Ianto properly. The latter looked slightly surprised when Martha grabbed him for a hug, but she noticed he was smiling when she released him.
"Have you done anything about finding another doctor?" Martha asked as they settled into chairs on either side of Jack's desk.
"Not yet," Jack answered, "it's not as if I can run an ad in the local paper: Wanted, one doctor to work for top-secret alien-fighting organisation."
She laughed softly and Jack grinned. "Of course, you could always come and join us."
Martha rolled her eyes. "Jack, I've already told you, the last three times you asked me, that I'm not joining Torchwood."
"Not even to help out an old friend?"
She sighed. "I'm sorry, Jack, but I really can't. Don't get me wrong, I like you guys, but you can't offer me any career development, and your staff mortality rate is frankly terrifying." She didn't tell him that she also thought the Doctor might disown her, and while she was definitely over the Doctor and her own woman to boot, she did still value his good opinion.
"You can't blame me for asking," he said, leaning across his desk to clasp her hands in his, "not when I know how much of an asset you'd be to the team."
She squeezed his fingers. "I don't blame you for asking," she assured him, "but the answer is still 'no thank you'."
"You're a tough nut to crack," he joked, "but maybe one day I'll woo you."
She laughed. "You can try."
After that Ianto had taken her to see Cardiff Castle, she had chattered to Gwen about her family history, and then she had gone out for dinner with Jack. She had wanted to spend some time with each of them to reassure herself that they were coming to terms with losing Tosh and Owen, however slowly.
* * * * * *
When Martha returned from doing the washing up, the Doctor had a scowl on his face and she wondered if she'd upset him, but then decided that was silly since they barely knew each other and there was no reason for him to care if she didn't want to confide in him. He was probably just annoyed at her for insisting that he rest his leg; she well remembered her own Doctor's dislike of being told to do things he didn't want to do, and she had a shrewd idea that stubbornness was a common trait of all the Doctor's incarnations.
"I'm going to bed," she told him. "Do you want me to bring you some books from the library?"
He opened his mouth, then shut it again, looking away for a moment before he answered. "Please."
"What do you want me to bring? Does your taste in books change with your body, like your taste in clothes?" she wondered aloud.
"Some things stay constant," he told her. "How much do you know about regeneration?"
She noted he sounded curious. "Quite a bit, one way and another," she answered vaguely, knowing how many things she couldn't tell him about the future, TARDIS mind-wipe or no TARDIS mind-wipe.
He grunted softly. "Pity you can't stay," he said quietly.
Martha blinked in surprise. "What?"
"I wouldn't mind you travelling with me," he said. "You're smart, quick, brave, a doctor too. And you seem to take a lot of things in your stride."
She just managed not to gape at him. "Wouldn't that cause a paradox?" she asked. "Me travelling with you, after I've already travelled with your future self?"
He gave her a pleased look. "You know about paradoxes?"
Martha rolled her eyes. "Please! I've travelled with your future incarnation, I work for UNIT, and I'm a science fiction fan, of course I know about paradoxes!"
He grinned, his whole face brightening in an amazing manner. "Yeah? What are your favourite SF films?"
"The Back to the Future trilogy," she answered, moving over to sit on the bed when she saw his eager expression.
"Who's your favourite character? Not Marty?"
"Doc Brown," she admitted, wondering if he'd tease her. Instead he started quoting some of the Doc's lines, and she joined in, and offered some of her own.
"Roads - " he began.
"where we're going, we don't need roads," Martha finished, laughing. "I love that line. The first time I saw the film, I was so puzzled, wondering what he meant."
"We should watch them tomorrow," he suggested. "You know the TARDIS has got her own cinema?"
"No! You never told me that!"
"Well that was daft," he said. "What's the matter with him? Doesn't he tell you anything useful, or does he just go around pulling disappearing tricks?"
She opened her mouth to answer and found herself fighting the urge to yawn instead. "Sorry," she mumbled when she'd recovered.
"Don't matter," he told her. "You were ready for bed half an hour ago, 'till I got you talking. Did the TARDIS fix up a room for you?"
"I didn't think of that," she admitted.
He closed his eyes briefly in an expression of concentration, then opened them again. "I've asked her to give you the room next to mine," he told her.
"Thanks." She stood up and he patted her arm quickly as she wished him a good night.
Martha went out into the corridor and immediately noticed light spilling from a door that was standing ajar next to the Doctor's room. She pushed it open and stepped inside, smiling in delight when she saw that the room looked a lot like the one she'd had when she'd been travelling full time with the Doctor. She undressed quickly and pulled on the pyjamas the TARDIS had provided, then hurriedly washed her face and cleaned her teeth, deciding she was too tired to shower before bed, and hoping she wouldn't be too stiff in the morning; she'd spotted a few bruises when she was undressing which she guessed were the result of the explosion throwing her into the wall.
Oh well, at least I won't have to run for my life tomorrow, so I can live with a bit of stiffness, she decided as she crawled under her duvet. Moments later she was sound asleep.
* * * * * *
Martha woke several hours later feeling slightly stiff, but very refreshed by her sleep; a brisk shower dealt with the stiffness, then she dressed and went to see her patient.
The Doctor sounded cheerful enough when he called out 'Come in' in response to her knock, and he looked more relaxed and less 'spiky' than he had the night before.
"You know, I'd forgotten how much time you a - humans waste in sleeping," he said, before she could speak.
"Do you expect me to apologise for my physiology?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest and giving him a cross look.
He looked slightly embarrassed. "No, sorry. It's just been a while since I've had any companions other than the TARDIS."
Martha's expression softened immediately and she unfolded her arms. "Did you sleep? How's the leg?"
"A bit. It's mending," he answered. "Could do with a shower."
"That's not a good idea, not with only one leg. You'd risk falling over and injuring yourself even more badly. You might manage a bath, if we can protect the dressings to stop them getting wet."
She lost herself in her thoughts as she considered the options and missed the look the Doctor gave her: a mixture of disbelief and amusement that she was so earnestly considering the matter.
"I can wait," he told her, breaking into her thoughts. "It ain't desperate just yet."
"If you're sure," she began.
"I am. You gonna let me get up and have some breakfast?"
"Yes of course." She picked up his shoes and put them on for him, thinking that it saved time that he was already dressed. Then she picked up the crutches from where she'd left them leaning against the chair the night before and passed them over, before she moved out of his way.
They made their way to the kitchen, which Martha noticed was closer to the Doctor's room this morning, and she set about getting some breakfast after establishing what he wanted.
"Your next incarnation likes scrambled eggs on toast with sausages," she told him as she got out the bread and found plates, mugs and cutlery.
"What, every morning?" he asked, sounding surprised. "I must be a right lard bucket."
Martha laughed. "Skinny as a rake, actually," she said. "And no, not every morning. Most mornings you, he, would just eat two bananas and drink three cups of sweet tea. But we got stuck in 1969 for a bit, and that was his weekend, breakfast-in-bed treat."
"You never made him breakfast in bed? Are you soft in the head?" he asked, apparently scandalised by the idea.
She put the bread into the toaster, then filled the kettle, before turning to smile at him. "No, he actually made it for both of us. I had to work in a shop to support us both while he built a temporal incursion detector to get the TARDIS back."
The Doctor frowned. "How long were you stuck there?"
"Around six weeks." Martha turned back to make the coffee, but she still caught the look of dismay on his face; she remembered her Doctor had told her he didn't 'do domestic', but he hadn't made that bad a job of it at the time.
"What else did we get up to?" he asked as she set down a plate stacked high with toast and two mugs of coffee on the table.
"Oh all sorts," she answered vaguely, before she began spreading marmalade on her toast.
He prodded her with questions, so she told him about visiting Shakespeare in 1599, although she left out the bit about inspiring the Bard; her Doctor had teased her a fair bit about that at the time, and then a bit about life in 1913.
"1913 can't have been easy," he observed quietly.
"It wasn't," she agreed, remembering how often she'd been on the verge of just walking out and leaving 'John Smith' to it, particularly once he got interested in Joan Redfern. The casual racism and the change from almost-Doctor to servant girl had been hard to take, and the situation with Joan had made things so much harder.
She looked up and saw him watching her closely with something like sympathy in his eyes.
"I survived," she said, and he nodded.
Once they'd finished breakfast Martha washed up and then the Doctor suggested again that they watch the 'Back to the Future' films.
"Sure. I haven't watched them for a couple of years, between studying and exams."
He heaved himself out of the chair and they went out into the corridor, Martha following the Doctor since she had no idea where the TARDIS' cinema was located. He paused in the corridor and closed his eyes for a moment, and she guessed he was asking the ship to bring the cinema closer so he wouldn't have too far to walk.
"Come on then." He set off along the corridor, back towards the Control Room, until he came to a dark green door, which Martha opened to save him struggling with his crutches.
The cinema proved to have a huge wide-screen flat panel TV hanging on the wall, and an impressive DVD and laser disc collection.
"Wow!" Martha couldn't help gaping a bit when she saw it.
The Doctor gave her a smug grin, then pointed out where the SF films were, and she found the boxed set and put the first disc in the DVD player.
* * * * * *
They ended up spending much of the two days that Martha was with him watching movies and arguing good naturedly over them.
On the third day, Martha pronounced the Doctor's leg healed and he prepared to take them back to Earth so he could sort out the trouble there.
"Are you sure you won't come with me?" he asked, not looking up from setting the coordinates.
"I can't," she told him, "I have to find out what happened to the Doctor I travelled with."
"I'm gonna miss you," he admitted, still not looking up. "You're not bad for an ape."
She rolled her eyes a bit. "I'll miss you too. But you'll soon find yourself a companion. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon." She smiled at the incomplete quote, knowing he'd get it.
"Well, there was this one girl that I met before I blew up that relay device, Rose her name was, but she wasn't a doctor like you."
Martha was glad he wasn't looking her way, she was sure her expression reflected her complete shock.
"Well not everyone has to be a doctor, do they?" she asked, finally forcing her vocal chords into action. "I'm sure she'd have other things to offer, if you decided to look her up again."
"I s'pose." He looked up finally. "I shall miss missing you," he said.
She nodded, knowing he was referring to the planned mind-wipe.
"I shall miss you," she told him.
The TARDIS landed and Martha was glad of the distraction. She slid off the captain's chair and offered him her hand.
"Don't be daft!" he said, pulling her into a tight hug. He kissed the top of her head, then let go of her. "Go and be fantastic."
She gave him a sketchy salute. "I'll do my best."
She let herself out of the TARDIS and hurried away before she could change her mind. "Time to try again," she muttered as she adjusted the settings on the Vortex Manipulator and made the jump away.
Title: A Shift in Perspective (2/10)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha Jones, Ninth Doctor, Torchwood Team
Rating: G
Spoilers: Rose, Season 3
Summary: The Tenth Doctor goes missing and it's up to Martha Jones to track him down again, but it proves both harder and more instructive than she expects.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: This is the second in a ten chapter story that's set a couple of months after S4. Ages ago the Doctor Who Random Pairing generator gave me "Martha Jones / Sgt Benton / A Shift in Perspective" and for a while I thought I was going to write a timey-wimey fic where Martha meets Benton, but then the idea of Ten going missing and Martha having to track him down, and encountering all his other incarnations along the way, came up.
Many thanks to my Beta readers for this chapter: 80sgirl80, ladymako71 and most especially shadowturquoise, who has done sterling work in making sure this didn't utterly suck!
Index Post
~~~~~~
Martha staggered as she landed after the jump from Wales, and she leaned against a wall, eyes closed as she caught her breath; travelling via Jack's Vortex Manipulator didn't get any less nauseating, she'd found. She opened her eyes and found that wherever or whenever she'd arrived, it was dark and after a moment she realised that she was somewhere up high: she could see lights below her, enough for a large city.
She pushed herself away from the wall and walked forward, wondering where the Doctor was, and just what he was doing on a city rooftop.
"Who the hell are you?" demanded a voice angrily, his Northern accent clearly audible even in those few words. "And what are you doing up here?"
Before she could answer, a large hand was grasping Martha's shoulder in a tight grip and she was tugged towards the edge of the roof where there was more light.
"Martha Jones," she answered quickly, looking up into the stormy face above her and noting the short cropped hair and large ears above his dark clothes. "I'm looking for you, Doctor, well not you exactly."
His glare intensified and she hurried to explain. "I'm one of your companions, and the incarnation of you that I know has gone missing. I'm trying to track you, well him, down."
"Rubbish, I don't have any companions! Stupid apes, always getting under foot and causing trouble."
She glowered at him, even as her mind raced to work out how to convince him; it hadn't occurred to her that her story wouldn't be believed.
"You're a Time Lord from Gallifrey, and you travel through Time and Space in a ship called the TARDIS, which looks like a big blue Police Box on the outside, but is infinitely huge on the inside. She's got coral support struts throughout the Control Room, and the light in there is a green-gold colour. She always hums a greeting at you when you go inside after being away."
He looked at her, and she knew that he knew there was no way she could know all of that if she hadn't been inside the ship.
"Well you can't stay here," he told her roughly, "I'm just about to blow up this thing," he gestured to a large electronic device in one corner, "so get down to the street. If I survive, you can talk to me afterwards."
Martha glared at him. "If you think I'm going to leave you up here on your own, you've got another think coming mister."
"Cheeky ape!" he exclaimed; even in the semi-darkness she could see sparks of anger in his eyes.
She folded her arms across her chest and glared again. "Arrogant Time Lord," she retorted.
He grinned madly, with an abrupt change of mood that startled her. "Not bad," he said, before spinning around and hurrying across the rooftop to the device. Martha followed him closely, wondering what he was up to.
She watched as he quickly wired a bomb, which he'd pulled from the pocket of his leather jacket, onto the side of the device, and made some adjustments with precise, delicate tweaks of the controls; she noted absently that his fingers weren't quite as long or slender as those of the Doctor she knew, but they still moved deftly.
The next moment he sprang up and grabbed her elbow, then slid his hand down to grasp hers.
"Run?" she suggested, half smiling up at him.
"Run," he agreed happily, pulling her forward.
They'd barely gone half a dozen paces towards the lit doorway on the other side of the roof, when Martha caught her foot on something she hadn't seen in the darkness, and the Doctor staggered with her as she struggled to keep her feet.
"Clumsy ape!" he yelled, even as he turned and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her bodily towards the doorway. They were still a couple of paces away when there was a dull bang behind them, and the force of the explosion threw them both off their feet and into the wall beside the door.
Martha opened her eyes a few moments later with a groan, her whole body aching. The Doctor lay unmoving beside her and she bit back a cry, trying not to panic at the thought that she might have got him killed at the wrong point in his personal timeline. She worriedly felt for his pulse and was deeply relieved when she found both hearts beating steadily in his neck.
A moment later he gave a quiet groan.
"Can you move?" she asked, aware of the approaching emergency services whose sirens were cutting through the night with shrill insistence.
The Doctor groaned a second time and she watched as he gingerly moved onto his hands and knees, eyes screwed shut in pain.
"Remind me why I bother saving you stupid apes?" he asked through clenched teeth. "Well?" he barked, when she didn't immediately answer.
"I don't know, I'm sure," Martha retorted, irritated by his repeated references to apes. "We need to get out of here before the emergency services find us and start asking awkward questions. Can you walk?"
He carefully picked himself up, stifling further groans, and she watched anxiously, noting his wince when he put his weight on his right leg. She wondered where he'd left the TARDIS, knowing it would be better to take him there than to a hospital.
"Well don't just stand there, you stupid ape, help me!" he snarled.
Martha scowled, but she moved to his side and allowed him to drape his right arm around her shoulders so he could take some of his weight off his leg, then helped him through the doorway onto the narrow stairs.
They made it down to the top floor of the building, and the Doctor directed her towards the lift, into which they manoeuvred themselves with a little difficulty.
"Where's the TARDIS?" Martha asked as they reached the ground floor and she helped him out of the lift, then across to a fire exit.
"Down the street, on the right," he answered.
As they moved away, Martha glanced back at the building and saw it was Henricks, which told her exactly when and where she was: she clearly remembered hearing about the explosion at the department store a few years ago; at the time no one had been able to explain what had caused it, but now she knew. She pushed the thought aside, knowing it wasn't relevant to what she had to do.
They reached the TARDIS and the Doctor began fumbling for his key, but Martha was already pulling hers from the neck of her t-shirt.
"May I?" she asked, and on receiving a weary nod, she unlocked the door and helped him inside.
Martha couldn't help smiling a little at the hum of greeting that filled her head as she helped the Doctor across the Control Room and into the corridor as they headed to the Medical Bay.
"She knows you," he observed as she settled him onto a chair, then quickly pulled off her jacket. "Likes you too, unless I'm out in me reckoning."
"I like her too," Martha responded as she lowered one of the beds, before approaching the Doctor. "Let's see what the damage is, shall we?"
He grumbled under his breath, but allowed her to remove his jacket and shoes before limping over to sit on the bed. He watched her as she scrubbed her hands, then pulled on a pair of latex gloves.
"I found meself another doctor to travel with, then," he observed as she moved back to his side.
"I didn't know you'd previously travelled with other doctors," she commented as she began to examine him with a brisk, professional manner.
"One or two," he answered tersely, biting back a moan as she touched his right shin.
Martha pulled the portable X-ray machine closer. "We need to get your jeans off," she told him impersonally. "I think you've got a fracture, but I need to check."
"Don't cut 'em," he said gruffly, then fumbled with the button and zip. He gave a little grunt as he tried to ease them down, and Martha quickly moved to assist him, pushing aside the slight awkwardness she felt about undressing the Doctor, a feeling she apparently couldn't overcome despite not fancying him any longer.
They got his jeans off between them, and Martha used the X-ray machine to confirm he'd fractured the bone just below his kneecap.
"I know you heal fast, but you're going to have to rest this for at least 48 hours," she told him as she strapped up his leg. "And by rest, I mean put as little weight on it as possible."
"I'll rest after I save the world," he said as he pulled his jeans back up.
"You'll rest it before that," Martha said sternly, "unless you want to be lame for the rest of this incarnation?" He glared at her, but she gave him a bland look. "You're in a time machine, remember? Which means you can come back in five minutes time and yet have been gone for three months if necessary."
The Doctor gave her a grudging smile. "Bossy, ain't you?"
"Someone has to be," she responded, opening a cupboard in the corner and taking out a pair of crutches. "Here. The sooner we get the TARDIS into the Vortex, the sooner you can put your feet up."
He took the crutches from her. "What's this 'we'?" he asked, swinging himself across to the door and out into the corridor.
"I've seen the way you pilot the TARDIS," she reminded him. "You can't do that with a dodgy leg."
"I can manage on me own, have been for some time now, and I certainly don't need some silly ape to help me."
Martha ground her teeth in silent annoyance at his 'ape' remark; he was a bit too fond of that term, she decided. "That's fine when you've got two strong legs to run around the console on," she said, "but at the moment you haven't, so don't be so bloody stubborn."
His only response to that was a grunt.
As she followed him into the Control Room, Martha couldn't help remembering the last time she'd been in here with "her" Doctor, and the amazing experience of helping to pilot the TARDIS with the Doctor, Jack, Sarah Jane, Mickey and Rose; she wished she could tell him about it, but knew she mustn't. She wasn't sure which incarnation she'd found this time, but the glimpses of darkness lurking in the depths of his eyes made her suspect he'd already seen the Time War.
She pushed her thoughts aside, knowing she needed to concentrate on helping the Doctor move the TARDIS off Earth.
Between the two of them they got the TARDIS into the Vortex, after which she chivvied the Doctor, who protested in mutters all the way, to his bedroom. It was dark and almost bare of any personal belongings, and the four-poster bed hadn't been made.
"Sit down," Martha told him, "and I'll make up the bed."
"I can sleep on the mattress," he said gruffly.
"Why be more uncomfortable?" she asked. "Your leg's going to cause you enough discomfort, as well as sleeping in your clothes."
He didn't answer, but she felt him watching her as she swiftly sorted out sheets, pillowcases and blankets, and quickly made the bed.
"How old are you?" he asked abruptly as she plumped up the pillows.
Martha paused for a moment before answering. "Twenty five, nearly twenty six."
"Huh."
"How old are you?" she asked curiously.
He frowned. "Old enough." His manner was forbidding, so Martha didn't push him for a more specific answer; instead she patted the bed and gave him an expectant look.
"Do you always push me around?" he asked grumpily as he settled on the bed.
"No, although I can't help thinking I ought to have done it more often," she answered, darting a laughing look at his stormy expression. She was coming to the conclusion that this Doctor's bark was worse than his bite, and she thought he quite liked the fact that he couldn't intimidate her easily.
"Do you want something to eat? And some tea?" she asked.
"Coffee with milk, but no sugar." There was a little pause before he added "please" in a gruff tone.
"What about food?"
He shrugged. "Don't know what's in the kitchen."
She shook her head in disbelief, then went away to find out.
When Martha returned about twenty minutes later, the Doctor was sitting stiffly in exactly the same position in which she'd left him, looking as if relaxing was something only other people did. She set down the tray she'd brought with her, then moved the bedside table into a more convenient position so he wouldn't have to reach across awkwardly.
"Thanks." For all his earlier lack of interest, Martha noted that the Doctor was sniffing appreciatively at the scents that were wafting from the covered dishes on the tray.
"The kitchen's quite well stocked," she told him, lifting the cover off one of the bowls, before passing it to him with a spoon.
"Is it?" He accepted the bowl of thick vegetable broth, and wasted no time in devouring it and some chunks of bread.
Watching him from the corner of her eye as she ate at a more dignified pace, Martha wondered when he'd last eaten, and when he'd last had a companion to worry about such things as regular meals.
"So why were you looking for me?" asked the Doctor once they'd eaten their fill and were drinking their coffee.
Martha began to explain what had happened to the Doctor she knew, being careful not to mention any names, but after a few minutes he interrupted her.
"This will make more sense if you give me all the details," he told her.
"What about your personal timeline?" she asked anxiously.
"I can get the TARDIS to wipe my memories of meeting you," he assured her.
"Okay." She began again from the beginning, explaining about the Rift in Cardiff, the Torchwood Institute that was situated there, and those who worked for it, then told him what had happened to the Doctor she knew.
"Show me the Vortex device please?" he asked once she'd finished explaining her encounter with his third incarnation in Wales.
Martha pushed up her sleeve and unstrapped the device from her wrist, then handed it to him.
The Doctor gave a soft grunt and she wondered if he recognised it; Jack had told her that he'd first met the Doctor when he had still been a rogue Time Agent. She watched as he pulled his sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his jeans and began to fiddle with the settings on the Vortex Manipulator.
"You realise you could end up running into all of my incarnations before this thing's sufficiently recalibrated to find the version of me you know?" He spoke without looking up from his work.
"I know, but what else can I do?"
He shrugged, then handed back the device. "I don't know," he admitted.
"Neither did your earlier self," Martha said. "So, which one are you? The first one I met told me he was in his third body.
"That dandy?" he scoffed. "All velvet and ruffles, looked a right berk, if you ask me."
She gave him a look, arms folded across her chest and one eyebrow raised.
"This is my ninth body," he told her. "Which one are you travelling with?" He shook his head, then corrected himself. "Which one do you know?"
"Sarah Jane thinks you're in your tenth incarnation now, from what he, you - " she frowned momentarily over her pronoun confusion, "told her."
"I'm glad to know I'll see her again," he said, his normally severe expression lightening a little. "She's been a good friend to me. Like you will be, I think." He spoke reluctantly and Martha looked up in surprise at such a favourable remark from him.
"Don't look so surprised, girl," he said roughly. "How soon until I meet you properly?"
"Not for a few more years from now in my personal timeline," Martha answered, half distracted. She'd been wondering about Rose, and where she fitted in: from what Jack had told her, Rose had travelled with this incarnation of the Doctor as well as the one Martha knew. She was wondering what it would be like to travel with this gruff Northerner who seemed calmer, if more intense, than the Doctor she knew. There was a curious vulnerability about him that made her healer's instincts tingle, and she suddenly wondered how long it had been since the Time War had ended.
"What are you thinking about?" asked the Doctor, sounding curious.
"You," she answered honestly.
He barked a laugh. "Why are you thinking about me? Surely you've more important people to think about? Got a fella, haven't you?" he asked, nodding at her left hand.
Martha fiddled with her engagement ring. "Yeah."
"You don't sound very happy about it," he observed shrewdly. "Not running away are you?"
"Sort of," she admitted as she got up and began gathering up the things from their meal.
"Want to tell me about it?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle for once.
"Thought I was just an ape to you?" she asked, picking up the full tray.
He had the grace to look slightly ashamed. "I say things in the heat of anger that I don't always mean," he said.
"No need for me to bore you," Martha answered, going out with the tray before he could answer.
* * * * * *
As she washed up, Martha thought back to the moment when she had stepped down off the train from London at Cardiff station to find a very familiar tall man in a blue greatcoat waiting for her on the platform.
"Hello Jack," she said as he stepped up to her, his arms held wide.
"Martha Jones, my own sweet nightingale," he answered, his grin widening when she momentarily flushed with embarrassment.
She allowed him to envelop her in a bear hug and felt a little of her tension from the previous three days of arguments with Tom slipping away as he strong arms wrapped across her back.
"When are you going to stop with that awful joke?" she asked, wrapping her own arms around him in turn.
"Pretty much never," he answered, "it's just too apt a nickname for you."
She sighed, resigned to his teasing, and felt him kiss the top of her head.
"Come on, let's get you settled at the hotel, then we can catch up at the Hub - the others are waiting to see you again."
They grabbed Martha's bags, then went inside and collected a key card from a receptionist who immediately started patting her hair when Jack walked in. Martha saw him give her a wink and a smile before he led the way over to the lift.
"Friend of yours?" she enquired as they travelled up to the fourth floor to Martha's suite.
"You know me, Martha, I'm a friendly guy," he responded with another wink, opening the door for her.
"Have you slept with everyone in Cardiff?" she asked.
"Not everyone, not yet." He gave her a look that caused her stomach to do an odd sort of flip-flop.
She set down her laptop on the coffee table, deciding not to rise to his bait. "Be good," she told him, shrugging out of her jacket.
"I would be good. I am always good."
"Stop it, Jack," she said, sitting down to take off her boots. "Go and flirt with your friend downstairs while I have a shower, and come back in half an hour.
He straightened up and gave her a salute. "Ma'am."
When Jack returned Martha was feeling clean and considerably more relaxed. She pulled on her boots, then picked up her coat.
The drive to the Hub only took a few minutes, but gave Jack the opportunity to ask after Martha's family.
"They're all good," she said, "and Mum says you're welcome to come and have dinner next time you're in London."
"I'd love to," Jack said enthusiastically. "Will the lovely Letitia be there as well?"
"And her fella, I expect," Martha answered, watching his face fall for just a moment, before he grinned.
"Think they'd be up for a threesome?" he asked.
"Jack! You're completely incorrigible, aren't you?"
They stepped onto the paving stone of the invisible lift and Jack slipped his arm around her to hold her steady as it started to descend.
"Okay?" he asked as they sank below the level of the pavement and she saw Myfanwy flying around below them.
"Yeah!" she exclaimed a little breathlessly. "This is amazing!" She knew about the invisible lift, but she hadn't used it the last time she'd been at the Hub, and she felt a little spurt of excitement, just like she did whenever she opened the TARDIS door after the ship arrived somewhere new.
He grinned at her excitement, then pointed out Gwen and Ianto, who were watching them descend. She waved at them both, and Gwen waved back, while Ianto nodded, and Martha felt a pang of grief at the thought of Tosh and Owen, and wondered how the surviving members of the team were coping on a day-to-day basis.
The bump of the paving stone as it reached its destination shook Martha from her reverie, and she stepped off the lift to greet Gwen and Ianto properly. The latter looked slightly surprised when Martha grabbed him for a hug, but she noticed he was smiling when she released him.
"Have you done anything about finding another doctor?" Martha asked as they settled into chairs on either side of Jack's desk.
"Not yet," Jack answered, "it's not as if I can run an ad in the local paper: Wanted, one doctor to work for top-secret alien-fighting organisation."
She laughed softly and Jack grinned. "Of course, you could always come and join us."
Martha rolled her eyes. "Jack, I've already told you, the last three times you asked me, that I'm not joining Torchwood."
"Not even to help out an old friend?"
She sighed. "I'm sorry, Jack, but I really can't. Don't get me wrong, I like you guys, but you can't offer me any career development, and your staff mortality rate is frankly terrifying." She didn't tell him that she also thought the Doctor might disown her, and while she was definitely over the Doctor and her own woman to boot, she did still value his good opinion.
"You can't blame me for asking," he said, leaning across his desk to clasp her hands in his, "not when I know how much of an asset you'd be to the team."
She squeezed his fingers. "I don't blame you for asking," she assured him, "but the answer is still 'no thank you'."
"You're a tough nut to crack," he joked, "but maybe one day I'll woo you."
She laughed. "You can try."
After that Ianto had taken her to see Cardiff Castle, she had chattered to Gwen about her family history, and then she had gone out for dinner with Jack. She had wanted to spend some time with each of them to reassure herself that they were coming to terms with losing Tosh and Owen, however slowly.
* * * * * *
When Martha returned from doing the washing up, the Doctor had a scowl on his face and she wondered if she'd upset him, but then decided that was silly since they barely knew each other and there was no reason for him to care if she didn't want to confide in him. He was probably just annoyed at her for insisting that he rest his leg; she well remembered her own Doctor's dislike of being told to do things he didn't want to do, and she had a shrewd idea that stubbornness was a common trait of all the Doctor's incarnations.
"I'm going to bed," she told him. "Do you want me to bring you some books from the library?"
He opened his mouth, then shut it again, looking away for a moment before he answered. "Please."
"What do you want me to bring? Does your taste in books change with your body, like your taste in clothes?" she wondered aloud.
"Some things stay constant," he told her. "How much do you know about regeneration?"
She noted he sounded curious. "Quite a bit, one way and another," she answered vaguely, knowing how many things she couldn't tell him about the future, TARDIS mind-wipe or no TARDIS mind-wipe.
He grunted softly. "Pity you can't stay," he said quietly.
Martha blinked in surprise. "What?"
"I wouldn't mind you travelling with me," he said. "You're smart, quick, brave, a doctor too. And you seem to take a lot of things in your stride."
She just managed not to gape at him. "Wouldn't that cause a paradox?" she asked. "Me travelling with you, after I've already travelled with your future self?"
He gave her a pleased look. "You know about paradoxes?"
Martha rolled her eyes. "Please! I've travelled with your future incarnation, I work for UNIT, and I'm a science fiction fan, of course I know about paradoxes!"
He grinned, his whole face brightening in an amazing manner. "Yeah? What are your favourite SF films?"
"The Back to the Future trilogy," she answered, moving over to sit on the bed when she saw his eager expression.
"Who's your favourite character? Not Marty?"
"Doc Brown," she admitted, wondering if he'd tease her. Instead he started quoting some of the Doc's lines, and she joined in, and offered some of her own.
"Roads - " he began.
"where we're going, we don't need roads," Martha finished, laughing. "I love that line. The first time I saw the film, I was so puzzled, wondering what he meant."
"We should watch them tomorrow," he suggested. "You know the TARDIS has got her own cinema?"
"No! You never told me that!"
"Well that was daft," he said. "What's the matter with him? Doesn't he tell you anything useful, or does he just go around pulling disappearing tricks?"
She opened her mouth to answer and found herself fighting the urge to yawn instead. "Sorry," she mumbled when she'd recovered.
"Don't matter," he told her. "You were ready for bed half an hour ago, 'till I got you talking. Did the TARDIS fix up a room for you?"
"I didn't think of that," she admitted.
He closed his eyes briefly in an expression of concentration, then opened them again. "I've asked her to give you the room next to mine," he told her.
"Thanks." She stood up and he patted her arm quickly as she wished him a good night.
Martha went out into the corridor and immediately noticed light spilling from a door that was standing ajar next to the Doctor's room. She pushed it open and stepped inside, smiling in delight when she saw that the room looked a lot like the one she'd had when she'd been travelling full time with the Doctor. She undressed quickly and pulled on the pyjamas the TARDIS had provided, then hurriedly washed her face and cleaned her teeth, deciding she was too tired to shower before bed, and hoping she wouldn't be too stiff in the morning; she'd spotted a few bruises when she was undressing which she guessed were the result of the explosion throwing her into the wall.
Oh well, at least I won't have to run for my life tomorrow, so I can live with a bit of stiffness, she decided as she crawled under her duvet. Moments later she was sound asleep.
* * * * * *
Martha woke several hours later feeling slightly stiff, but very refreshed by her sleep; a brisk shower dealt with the stiffness, then she dressed and went to see her patient.
The Doctor sounded cheerful enough when he called out 'Come in' in response to her knock, and he looked more relaxed and less 'spiky' than he had the night before.
"You know, I'd forgotten how much time you a - humans waste in sleeping," he said, before she could speak.
"Do you expect me to apologise for my physiology?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest and giving him a cross look.
He looked slightly embarrassed. "No, sorry. It's just been a while since I've had any companions other than the TARDIS."
Martha's expression softened immediately and she unfolded her arms. "Did you sleep? How's the leg?"
"A bit. It's mending," he answered. "Could do with a shower."
"That's not a good idea, not with only one leg. You'd risk falling over and injuring yourself even more badly. You might manage a bath, if we can protect the dressings to stop them getting wet."
She lost herself in her thoughts as she considered the options and missed the look the Doctor gave her: a mixture of disbelief and amusement that she was so earnestly considering the matter.
"I can wait," he told her, breaking into her thoughts. "It ain't desperate just yet."
"If you're sure," she began.
"I am. You gonna let me get up and have some breakfast?"
"Yes of course." She picked up his shoes and put them on for him, thinking that it saved time that he was already dressed. Then she picked up the crutches from where she'd left them leaning against the chair the night before and passed them over, before she moved out of his way.
They made their way to the kitchen, which Martha noticed was closer to the Doctor's room this morning, and she set about getting some breakfast after establishing what he wanted.
"Your next incarnation likes scrambled eggs on toast with sausages," she told him as she got out the bread and found plates, mugs and cutlery.
"What, every morning?" he asked, sounding surprised. "I must be a right lard bucket."
Martha laughed. "Skinny as a rake, actually," she said. "And no, not every morning. Most mornings you, he, would just eat two bananas and drink three cups of sweet tea. But we got stuck in 1969 for a bit, and that was his weekend, breakfast-in-bed treat."
"You never made him breakfast in bed? Are you soft in the head?" he asked, apparently scandalised by the idea.
She put the bread into the toaster, then filled the kettle, before turning to smile at him. "No, he actually made it for both of us. I had to work in a shop to support us both while he built a temporal incursion detector to get the TARDIS back."
The Doctor frowned. "How long were you stuck there?"
"Around six weeks." Martha turned back to make the coffee, but she still caught the look of dismay on his face; she remembered her Doctor had told her he didn't 'do domestic', but he hadn't made that bad a job of it at the time.
"What else did we get up to?" he asked as she set down a plate stacked high with toast and two mugs of coffee on the table.
"Oh all sorts," she answered vaguely, before she began spreading marmalade on her toast.
He prodded her with questions, so she told him about visiting Shakespeare in 1599, although she left out the bit about inspiring the Bard; her Doctor had teased her a fair bit about that at the time, and then a bit about life in 1913.
"1913 can't have been easy," he observed quietly.
"It wasn't," she agreed, remembering how often she'd been on the verge of just walking out and leaving 'John Smith' to it, particularly once he got interested in Joan Redfern. The casual racism and the change from almost-Doctor to servant girl had been hard to take, and the situation with Joan had made things so much harder.
She looked up and saw him watching her closely with something like sympathy in his eyes.
"I survived," she said, and he nodded.
Once they'd finished breakfast Martha washed up and then the Doctor suggested again that they watch the 'Back to the Future' films.
"Sure. I haven't watched them for a couple of years, between studying and exams."
He heaved himself out of the chair and they went out into the corridor, Martha following the Doctor since she had no idea where the TARDIS' cinema was located. He paused in the corridor and closed his eyes for a moment, and she guessed he was asking the ship to bring the cinema closer so he wouldn't have too far to walk.
"Come on then." He set off along the corridor, back towards the Control Room, until he came to a dark green door, which Martha opened to save him struggling with his crutches.
The cinema proved to have a huge wide-screen flat panel TV hanging on the wall, and an impressive DVD and laser disc collection.
"Wow!" Martha couldn't help gaping a bit when she saw it.
The Doctor gave her a smug grin, then pointed out where the SF films were, and she found the boxed set and put the first disc in the DVD player.
* * * * * *
They ended up spending much of the two days that Martha was with him watching movies and arguing good naturedly over them.
On the third day, Martha pronounced the Doctor's leg healed and he prepared to take them back to Earth so he could sort out the trouble there.
"Are you sure you won't come with me?" he asked, not looking up from setting the coordinates.
"I can't," she told him, "I have to find out what happened to the Doctor I travelled with."
"I'm gonna miss you," he admitted, still not looking up. "You're not bad for an ape."
She rolled her eyes a bit. "I'll miss you too. But you'll soon find yourself a companion. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon." She smiled at the incomplete quote, knowing he'd get it.
"Well, there was this one girl that I met before I blew up that relay device, Rose her name was, but she wasn't a doctor like you."
Martha was glad he wasn't looking her way, she was sure her expression reflected her complete shock.
"Well not everyone has to be a doctor, do they?" she asked, finally forcing her vocal chords into action. "I'm sure she'd have other things to offer, if you decided to look her up again."
"I s'pose." He looked up finally. "I shall miss missing you," he said.
She nodded, knowing he was referring to the planned mind-wipe.
"I shall miss you," she told him.
The TARDIS landed and Martha was glad of the distraction. She slid off the captain's chair and offered him her hand.
"Don't be daft!" he said, pulling her into a tight hug. He kissed the top of her head, then let go of her. "Go and be fantastic."
She gave him a sketchy salute. "I'll do my best."
She let herself out of the TARDIS and hurried away before she could change her mind. "Time to try again," she muttered as she adjusted the settings on the Vortex Manipulator and made the jump away.