Mystery Tour of 1973 (fic) Chapter 4
Title: (Previously "Life on Mars?") Mystery Tour of 1973
Chapter: 4
Rating: PG
Pairing: Just you wait
Crossover: Doctor Who/Life on Mars
Disclaimer: I don't own either of these shows... the lucky ducks do at BBC
About: Martha relives why she is in 1973 and meets up with whom she thinks is an old foe
Martha pulled her jacket around her tight; her chin kept low against her chest, as she walked briskly down a Manchester street. The sun’s first rays lit up the precipitation puffing from her mouth. Oh it was damned chilly. Briefly, Martha imagined Australia at the same time of year; a nice, warm, summer. She pulled a piece of crumpled paper from her pocket, and read the address for the thousandth time.
“Flat 15b Bowie Lane, Manchester, England, Earth.
5th December 1973. DI Sam Tyler.”
She sighed wearily to herself, replaying the scene that had happened not even an hour ago, on her time line at least.
She’d been on her lunch break, sitting in the Hospital cafeteria when a familiar figure in a World War One coat came in and sat at her table.
“Hello Martha Jones,” Jack grinned cheekily, his eyes sparkling.
“Jack! What are you doing here? I know you’re not exactly the sort to be admitted to hospital,” She’d known something was up; it was never a random hello.
“Can’t I just say hello to you for once?” Yup, there it was; the cover up, to turn on the suspicion and brace you for what’s next.
“What’s up Jack?”
Jack shifted in his seat and moistened his lips with his tongue. “The Doctor sent me-”
“What a surprise!”
“To ask a favour from you,”
“What sort of favour?”
“To go to 1973 Manchester and go to this address and see this man,” Jack handed her a piece of paper.
She read it, and laughed.
“Why can’t he send you?”
“He said he didn’t trust me to sleep with him,”
“But, hold on. Why isn’t the doctor telling me this? After all, I’d be using the TARDIS to get there, right?”
“No, you’d be using my Vortex Manipulator. The Doctor’s busy trying to keep Sam strong,”
“Why would I want to time travel without a capsule? Besides, I thought it was broken. And you mean Sam on the paper you just gave me? So the Doctor’s already in 1973?”
“The Doctor fixed it, and he’s in 2007. It’s complicated, and not necessarily the same Sam. It’s all up to you in the end, Martha Jones,”
“But, you see, I just became a doctor. I’m not ready to leave my job and go chasing after random people in Manchester,”
“Martha, it would mean the world to the Doctor if you could do this. Please?” Jack’s puppy-dog eyes bore into her, and she knew she’d lost.
“Fine. What do I have to do?”
“I’ll drop you off to 1973, you go to that address and find that man. Tell him he has to go home, to 2007. He has to stay strong. Otherwise he’d die in 2007 and in 1973. Stay with him as much as possible.”
“Okay... gotcha. No, no wait! Completely confu-”
Jack had already typed in the coordinates on his vortex manipulator and put Martha’s hand on it.
“OUCH! Oh, that canes! Remind me again why we couldn’t use the TARDIS?”
“AH! The TARDIS is out of action for the moment. Good luck Martha Jones!”
And with that Jack disappeared into the vortex and left Martha feeling utterly confused.
“Wait! Oh, Jack!” she sighed, defeated.
“Number 13, 14... There you are! Flat 15b!” Martha smiled, and fumbled around in her pockets for her lock-picks. “Gotcha!”
The door swung open, revealing a rather shabby flat, with a small fold-out bed. Lying in the bed was a huddled shape cocooned in blankets.
“Sam? Sam Tyler? I’ve got a message for you. Oi! Wake up!” she walked over to the bed and shook the man’s shoulder. He grunted, putting the pillow over his head, back still to Martha.
“Go away. Go back to the TV, little girl,”
Martha gasped. She knew that voice. She’d hoped she’d never have to hear it again. But it couldn’t be him, could it? She took a deep breath in, hoping to sound more confident than she felt.
“I’m not going anywhere, especially not into the TV. Nor am I a little girl!”
The man rolled over, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Martha gasped. It was him.
“Wha-... who are you?”
“It’s you! You stay away from me right now! I’m warning you! Don’t play any tricks on me, Master. I know it’s you!”
The Master looked confused. Martha picked up the nearest thing to her, which happened to be a radio and hurled it at him. The Master yelped in surprise and ducked, the radio missing him. She pulled a cricket bat from her jacket pocket. The Doctor had made the pockets bigger on the inside for her when she used to travel with him. She couldn’t remember why she had that cricket bat tucked away in the pocket though. She walked towards the babbling and protesting Master angrily and held it over her head. Suddenly the door was kicked open by a tall man with green eyes, wearing a tan coat.
“Morning Sunshine!” he growled.
Martha giggled, before putting a hand over her mouth to silence it. The man caught sight of her and the shattered radio, frowning briefly as she dropped the bat.
“DCI Gene Hunt. Who are you?” he seemed to be making an attempt to be polite. Polite as someone could be after they kicked down a door, that is.
“Martha Jones,” She smiled warmly and put her hand out to shake. Gene seemed to hesitate before taking it.
“Wha- can someone please explain what the bloody hell is going on?” the Master was now sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes blearily.
“Seems like you took a bird home last night, Sammy-boy,” Gene sounded as though he was stating the obvious.
“But... What?”
“Sammy-boy? You mean Sam Tyler, do you?” this was starting to confuse Martha even more. If the Doctor sent her to this flat to get the Master, why would he say his name was Sam Tyler? And surely he’d know the Master was the last person Jack would sleep with, hard or not to believe. So why send her alone?
“DI Sam Tyler, actually,” Sam corrected her.
“Right. DI Sam Tyler. Not the Master?”
“Who? No; he’s the DCI, aren’t you Guv?” Clearly Sam misunderstood her.
“Yeah, I’m in charge of Gladys here. He’s no Master,” Gene seemed somewhat startled, but he didn’t seem to be lying.
Martha considered who this could be. Perhaps the Master had amnesia, and thought he really was Sam Tyler. Or maybe they just looked and sounded freakily alike. Although even in amnesia, there would always be one or two words that the person would recognise. She tried that last option, choosing three words the Master would surely always recognise.
“The Doctor? The Drums? The TARDIS?”
Sam just looked confused, no recognition lining his sleepy face.
“Blimey she’s as much of a nutter as you are!”
Martha didn’t know whether to take that as a joke or an insult to her or Sam. She reached into her pocket once again and took out the piece of paper Jack had given her. She turned it over to the back to see something that she hadn’t seen before scrawled in cursive writing.
“Oh and, by the way, Martha; he’s not the Master,”
Chapter: 4
Rating: PG
Pairing: Just you wait
Crossover: Doctor Who/Life on Mars
Disclaimer: I don't own either of these shows... the lucky ducks do at BBC
About: Martha relives why she is in 1973 and meets up with whom she thinks is an old foe
Martha pulled her jacket around her tight; her chin kept low against her chest, as she walked briskly down a Manchester street. The sun’s first rays lit up the precipitation puffing from her mouth. Oh it was damned chilly. Briefly, Martha imagined Australia at the same time of year; a nice, warm, summer. She pulled a piece of crumpled paper from her pocket, and read the address for the thousandth time.
“Flat 15b Bowie Lane, Manchester, England, Earth.
5th December 1973. DI Sam Tyler.”
She sighed wearily to herself, replaying the scene that had happened not even an hour ago, on her time line at least.
She’d been on her lunch break, sitting in the Hospital cafeteria when a familiar figure in a World War One coat came in and sat at her table.
“Hello Martha Jones,” Jack grinned cheekily, his eyes sparkling.
“Jack! What are you doing here? I know you’re not exactly the sort to be admitted to hospital,” She’d known something was up; it was never a random hello.
“Can’t I just say hello to you for once?” Yup, there it was; the cover up, to turn on the suspicion and brace you for what’s next.
“What’s up Jack?”
Jack shifted in his seat and moistened his lips with his tongue. “The Doctor sent me-”
“What a surprise!”
“To ask a favour from you,”
“What sort of favour?”
“To go to 1973 Manchester and go to this address and see this man,” Jack handed her a piece of paper.
She read it, and laughed.
“Why can’t he send you?”
“He said he didn’t trust me to sleep with him,”
“But, hold on. Why isn’t the doctor telling me this? After all, I’d be using the TARDIS to get there, right?”
“No, you’d be using my Vortex Manipulator. The Doctor’s busy trying to keep Sam strong,”
“Why would I want to time travel without a capsule? Besides, I thought it was broken. And you mean Sam on the paper you just gave me? So the Doctor’s already in 1973?”
“The Doctor fixed it, and he’s in 2007. It’s complicated, and not necessarily the same Sam. It’s all up to you in the end, Martha Jones,”
“But, you see, I just became a doctor. I’m not ready to leave my job and go chasing after random people in Manchester,”
“Martha, it would mean the world to the Doctor if you could do this. Please?” Jack’s puppy-dog eyes bore into her, and she knew she’d lost.
“Fine. What do I have to do?”
“I’ll drop you off to 1973, you go to that address and find that man. Tell him he has to go home, to 2007. He has to stay strong. Otherwise he’d die in 2007 and in 1973. Stay with him as much as possible.”
“Okay... gotcha. No, no wait! Completely confu-”
Jack had already typed in the coordinates on his vortex manipulator and put Martha’s hand on it.
“OUCH! Oh, that canes! Remind me again why we couldn’t use the TARDIS?”
“AH! The TARDIS is out of action for the moment. Good luck Martha Jones!”
And with that Jack disappeared into the vortex and left Martha feeling utterly confused.
“Wait! Oh, Jack!” she sighed, defeated.
“Number 13, 14... There you are! Flat 15b!” Martha smiled, and fumbled around in her pockets for her lock-picks. “Gotcha!”
The door swung open, revealing a rather shabby flat, with a small fold-out bed. Lying in the bed was a huddled shape cocooned in blankets.
“Sam? Sam Tyler? I’ve got a message for you. Oi! Wake up!” she walked over to the bed and shook the man’s shoulder. He grunted, putting the pillow over his head, back still to Martha.
“Go away. Go back to the TV, little girl,”
Martha gasped. She knew that voice. She’d hoped she’d never have to hear it again. But it couldn’t be him, could it? She took a deep breath in, hoping to sound more confident than she felt.
“I’m not going anywhere, especially not into the TV. Nor am I a little girl!”
The man rolled over, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Martha gasped. It was him.
“Wha-... who are you?”
“It’s you! You stay away from me right now! I’m warning you! Don’t play any tricks on me, Master. I know it’s you!”
The Master looked confused. Martha picked up the nearest thing to her, which happened to be a radio and hurled it at him. The Master yelped in surprise and ducked, the radio missing him. She pulled a cricket bat from her jacket pocket. The Doctor had made the pockets bigger on the inside for her when she used to travel with him. She couldn’t remember why she had that cricket bat tucked away in the pocket though. She walked towards the babbling and protesting Master angrily and held it over her head. Suddenly the door was kicked open by a tall man with green eyes, wearing a tan coat.
“Morning Sunshine!” he growled.
Martha giggled, before putting a hand over her mouth to silence it. The man caught sight of her and the shattered radio, frowning briefly as she dropped the bat.
“DCI Gene Hunt. Who are you?” he seemed to be making an attempt to be polite. Polite as someone could be after they kicked down a door, that is.
“Martha Jones,” She smiled warmly and put her hand out to shake. Gene seemed to hesitate before taking it.
“Wha- can someone please explain what the bloody hell is going on?” the Master was now sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes blearily.
“Seems like you took a bird home last night, Sammy-boy,” Gene sounded as though he was stating the obvious.
“But... What?”
“Sammy-boy? You mean Sam Tyler, do you?” this was starting to confuse Martha even more. If the Doctor sent her to this flat to get the Master, why would he say his name was Sam Tyler? And surely he’d know the Master was the last person Jack would sleep with, hard or not to believe. So why send her alone?
“DI Sam Tyler, actually,” Sam corrected her.
“Right. DI Sam Tyler. Not the Master?”
“Who? No; he’s the DCI, aren’t you Guv?” Clearly Sam misunderstood her.
“Yeah, I’m in charge of Gladys here. He’s no Master,” Gene seemed somewhat startled, but he didn’t seem to be lying.
Martha considered who this could be. Perhaps the Master had amnesia, and thought he really was Sam Tyler. Or maybe they just looked and sounded freakily alike. Although even in amnesia, there would always be one or two words that the person would recognise. She tried that last option, choosing three words the Master would surely always recognise.
“The Doctor? The Drums? The TARDIS?”
Sam just looked confused, no recognition lining his sleepy face.
“Blimey she’s as much of a nutter as you are!”
Martha didn’t know whether to take that as a joke or an insult to her or Sam. She reached into her pocket once again and took out the piece of paper Jack had given her. She turned it over to the back to see something that she hadn’t seen before scrawled in cursive writing.
“Oh and, by the way, Martha; he’s not the Master,”