The Meeting (Martha Jones, Jack Harkness, Nine)
We actually got more than one submission for this prompt, so here's a bonus fic.
Title: The Meeting
Author: stoplookingup
Recipient: persiflage_1
Rating: G
Character(s): Martha, Jack, Nine
Warnings (if any): Mild spoiler for Rose.
Summary: Martha discovers she has an appointment with the Doctor that she can't afford to miss.
Notes: Written all in a day as a pinch-hit. I hope it suits.
It was far too late on a Friday evening to be sitting behind a desk reviewing medical files, but it was the kind of thing Martha Jones did a lot these days. Some of the meaner-spirited office gossips thought she was brown-nosing her superiors in a bid for early promotion. How did a woman her age, barely out of medical school, land a plum UNIT medical post, anyway, they wondered? Martha knew what they said about her, but it didn’t bother her. They couldn’t possibly be expected to understand.
She shook her head in an attempt to shed the thoughts that tended to creep in at such late hours in the blue glow of a computer monitor, when everyone else had long ago gone home. Refocusing her attention, she started from the top of the screen again.
She jumped at the sudden, shrill trilling of the telephone, and her half-full coffee cup tumbled to the floor.
“Bugger!” she snapped, picking up the phone.
“Maybe later.”
“What? No! I mean, hello. I’m sorry, I spilled some coffee. Jack? Is that you?”
“Who else would call on business at this hour?”
“Business? How disappointing,” Martha replied, dabbing her trousers with a wad of tissues.
“I’m afraid so, sweetheart. I need to show you something. Watch your screen -- I’m streaming it now.”
Martha swung around to her computer monitor and watched as a grainy, blurred video began. “What is this?”
“Security video. Just watch.”
It was hard to make out, but it looked like a scene in a mall. It was crowded, with people milling about; nothing stood out as especially interesting or worthy of attention -- until one particular figure entered the frame.
“Is that...?”
“Yes,” came Jack’s disembodied voice. “Before you knew him. Before he changed.”
“I’ve seen the file photos...”
She watched as the tiny, grainy figure wandered through the crowd, apparently aimlessly. “Where did you get this?”
“Tosh. She’s got this new program that can scan millions of hours of video in just days. It looks for him -- any version of him. She’s been working on it for months,” Jack said with a touch of pride, as though he were discussing a child’s school project.
But Martha was no longer listening. Instead, she was staring at the screen, her mouth open in disbelief. A woman had entered the picture. It was impossible to distinguish any details, but unless she was mistaken...
“That’s me!”
“It is.”
“But that’s impossible! What am I doing there? I’ve never met him!”
“Just watch.”
He needn’t have told her to; she couldn’t turn her eyes away. Fascinated, she saw the two blurry figures speaking to each other, occasionally obscured by passers-by obstructing the view from the security camera. Then she watched herself remove a large rucksack from her back, open it, take something out, and hand it over.
“What the hell is that?” she asked breathlessly.
“That’s what we wondered. I had Tosh enhance the image.”
As Martha watched, the frame on her screen froze, then zoomed in on the item.
“Oh my god...that’s a...that’s a human arm!”
“Not quite. It’s plastic. It’s a mannequin’s arm.”
“But why...” Martha’s voice trailed off as the security video resumed and the woman on-screen stretched up to plant a small kiss on the much taller man’s cheek before. Then she walked off-camera. “Jack, what the hell was that all about?”
“I gather he never told you how he met Rose?”
“Rose? Yeah. He was after something called...what was it? The Nested Consciousness, I think he said. It controlled...oh my god. It controlled plastic mannequins.”
“The Nestene Consciousness. Exactly. And did he ever mention how he discovered it was on Earth? How he learned about the mannequins?”
“No.”
“Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t tell you about that meeting because it hadn’t happened yet. At least, it hadn’t happened to you.”
“I really hate time loops, Jack.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So when did it happen? I mean, when will it?”
“It happened three years ago...but from your point of view, it will happen tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“I’m on my way to you now. And I’m....armed.” Jack chuckled at his own joke.
“Armed?”
“Living plastic.”
“Really? How’d you get it?”
“You’d be amazed what we find lying around Cardiff.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “But...this still doesn’t make any sense. I have nothing to do with this. I have no reason...I didn’t even know about the arm. I only know about it because you showed me the video.”
“Exactly. You don’t need any more reason. It happened. So you have to go.”
“But Jack, you know I can’t. That was over three years ago. It would be different if he hadn’t disabled your...”
“Martha Jones, I’m disappointed! Don’t tell me you think so little of me.”
“But I saw him do it!”
“And then I undid it. I’ve been building spare parts for that thing for the last hundred years, just in case. You don’t think I’d leave my one means of transportation to chance, do you?”
Martha smiled. “Of course not. Sorry, Jack, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize to me, sweetheart. I’ll be there in an hour.”
Martha shook her head as she replaced the receiver in its cradle.
_____________________________
Brent Cross was teeming with late-afternoon shoppers. Some were ambling along, clearly in no hurry to brave the Tube at rush-hour. Others darted into Boots or Marks and Sparks on quick after-work errands before dashing off home to their loved ones, or their cats, or their lonely TV dinners.
The lanky man in the leather coat blended in easily, shuffling along with the air of someone who had nowhere to go and no one to see. He paused before a display that caught his eye -- a tiny Ipod Shuffle in the window of the Apple Store. He even smiled a bit as he admired it through the pane of window glass. It was just a fleeting hint of a grin, and then it was gone, replaced by a creased forehead and an absent frown. He shoved his big hands into the pockets of his worn coat and moved on.
A nearby bench seemed inviting, so the Doctor sat down, his long legs stretched out straight before him as though it didn’t bother him much that someone might trip. Nothing seemed to concern him much, really. He looked like a man so disconnected from his surroundings that he might just as well have been anywhere in the universe had he not happened to land in this particular spot by chance.
Which, of course, he hadn’t. He’d tried to tell himself that morning that there were far more interesting places to go, or at least, places that didn’t remind him of quite so many past (and future) events. He’d gotten as far as setting the coordinates for a rather pretty trinary system he hadn’t seen in centuries. But then he’d changed the coordinates, and here he was, debating between chips and curry as his stomach growled loudly.
“You’re pathetic,” he mumbled to himself as he rose and headed toward McDonald’s, opting for chips.
“Excuse me...May I speak with you?”
The pretty, petite young woman who seemed to emerge from the crowd like a ghost approached him with a tentative smile.
“Who? Me?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I have something for you.”
This put him on his guard. Strangers with unlooked-for gifts were rarely good news. He put on his broadest grin and responded with impossible brightness: “No thank you.”
The young woman lowered her rucksack and reached inside as though he hadn’t spoken.
“I said, no thank you,” he repeated.
“You’ll want to see this,” she replied matter-of-factly. He braced himself for the worst, fingering the sonic screwdriver in his pocket just in case.
A plastic arm wasn’t at all what he expected.
She handed it to him, and he examined it closely, frowning. It twitched.
He nearly dropped the thing in surprise. “But this is...”
“I knew you’d catch on,” she said cheerfully. Her smile was warming. He wondered at that breezy, sunny smile, given the enormity of the problem she’d just dropped in his lap. “I’m afraid I have to go,” she added.
“But wait...where did you get this?”
“You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said, and, raising herself on tiptoes, kissed him gently on the cheek. “See you at the Royal Hope,” she whispered.
And then she was gone. He turned slowly, scanning the crowd, but he couldn’t catch sight of her.
He made a mental note to find her again. He didn’t know then that he’d have to check himself into hospital to do it.
THE END
Title: The Meeting
Author: stoplookingup
Recipient: persiflage_1
Rating: G
Character(s): Martha, Jack, Nine
Warnings (if any): Mild spoiler for Rose.
Summary: Martha discovers she has an appointment with the Doctor that she can't afford to miss.
Notes: Written all in a day as a pinch-hit. I hope it suits.
It was far too late on a Friday evening to be sitting behind a desk reviewing medical files, but it was the kind of thing Martha Jones did a lot these days. Some of the meaner-spirited office gossips thought she was brown-nosing her superiors in a bid for early promotion. How did a woman her age, barely out of medical school, land a plum UNIT medical post, anyway, they wondered? Martha knew what they said about her, but it didn’t bother her. They couldn’t possibly be expected to understand.
She shook her head in an attempt to shed the thoughts that tended to creep in at such late hours in the blue glow of a computer monitor, when everyone else had long ago gone home. Refocusing her attention, she started from the top of the screen again.
She jumped at the sudden, shrill trilling of the telephone, and her half-full coffee cup tumbled to the floor.
“Bugger!” she snapped, picking up the phone.
“Maybe later.”
“What? No! I mean, hello. I’m sorry, I spilled some coffee. Jack? Is that you?”
“Who else would call on business at this hour?”
“Business? How disappointing,” Martha replied, dabbing her trousers with a wad of tissues.
“I’m afraid so, sweetheart. I need to show you something. Watch your screen -- I’m streaming it now.”
Martha swung around to her computer monitor and watched as a grainy, blurred video began. “What is this?”
“Security video. Just watch.”
It was hard to make out, but it looked like a scene in a mall. It was crowded, with people milling about; nothing stood out as especially interesting or worthy of attention -- until one particular figure entered the frame.
“Is that...?”
“Yes,” came Jack’s disembodied voice. “Before you knew him. Before he changed.”
“I’ve seen the file photos...”
She watched as the tiny, grainy figure wandered through the crowd, apparently aimlessly. “Where did you get this?”
“Tosh. She’s got this new program that can scan millions of hours of video in just days. It looks for him -- any version of him. She’s been working on it for months,” Jack said with a touch of pride, as though he were discussing a child’s school project.
But Martha was no longer listening. Instead, she was staring at the screen, her mouth open in disbelief. A woman had entered the picture. It was impossible to distinguish any details, but unless she was mistaken...
“That’s me!”
“It is.”
“But that’s impossible! What am I doing there? I’ve never met him!”
“Just watch.”
He needn’t have told her to; she couldn’t turn her eyes away. Fascinated, she saw the two blurry figures speaking to each other, occasionally obscured by passers-by obstructing the view from the security camera. Then she watched herself remove a large rucksack from her back, open it, take something out, and hand it over.
“What the hell is that?” she asked breathlessly.
“That’s what we wondered. I had Tosh enhance the image.”
As Martha watched, the frame on her screen froze, then zoomed in on the item.
“Oh my god...that’s a...that’s a human arm!”
“Not quite. It’s plastic. It’s a mannequin’s arm.”
“But why...” Martha’s voice trailed off as the security video resumed and the woman on-screen stretched up to plant a small kiss on the much taller man’s cheek before. Then she walked off-camera. “Jack, what the hell was that all about?”
“I gather he never told you how he met Rose?”
“Rose? Yeah. He was after something called...what was it? The Nested Consciousness, I think he said. It controlled...oh my god. It controlled plastic mannequins.”
“The Nestene Consciousness. Exactly. And did he ever mention how he discovered it was on Earth? How he learned about the mannequins?”
“No.”
“Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t tell you about that meeting because it hadn’t happened yet. At least, it hadn’t happened to you.”
“I really hate time loops, Jack.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So when did it happen? I mean, when will it?”
“It happened three years ago...but from your point of view, it will happen tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“I’m on my way to you now. And I’m....armed.” Jack chuckled at his own joke.
“Armed?”
“Living plastic.”
“Really? How’d you get it?”
“You’d be amazed what we find lying around Cardiff.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “But...this still doesn’t make any sense. I have nothing to do with this. I have no reason...I didn’t even know about the arm. I only know about it because you showed me the video.”
“Exactly. You don’t need any more reason. It happened. So you have to go.”
“But Jack, you know I can’t. That was over three years ago. It would be different if he hadn’t disabled your...”
“Martha Jones, I’m disappointed! Don’t tell me you think so little of me.”
“But I saw him do it!”
“And then I undid it. I’ve been building spare parts for that thing for the last hundred years, just in case. You don’t think I’d leave my one means of transportation to chance, do you?”
Martha smiled. “Of course not. Sorry, Jack, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize to me, sweetheart. I’ll be there in an hour.”
Martha shook her head as she replaced the receiver in its cradle.
_____________________________
Brent Cross was teeming with late-afternoon shoppers. Some were ambling along, clearly in no hurry to brave the Tube at rush-hour. Others darted into Boots or Marks and Sparks on quick after-work errands before dashing off home to their loved ones, or their cats, or their lonely TV dinners.
The lanky man in the leather coat blended in easily, shuffling along with the air of someone who had nowhere to go and no one to see. He paused before a display that caught his eye -- a tiny Ipod Shuffle in the window of the Apple Store. He even smiled a bit as he admired it through the pane of window glass. It was just a fleeting hint of a grin, and then it was gone, replaced by a creased forehead and an absent frown. He shoved his big hands into the pockets of his worn coat and moved on.
A nearby bench seemed inviting, so the Doctor sat down, his long legs stretched out straight before him as though it didn’t bother him much that someone might trip. Nothing seemed to concern him much, really. He looked like a man so disconnected from his surroundings that he might just as well have been anywhere in the universe had he not happened to land in this particular spot by chance.
Which, of course, he hadn’t. He’d tried to tell himself that morning that there were far more interesting places to go, or at least, places that didn’t remind him of quite so many past (and future) events. He’d gotten as far as setting the coordinates for a rather pretty trinary system he hadn’t seen in centuries. But then he’d changed the coordinates, and here he was, debating between chips and curry as his stomach growled loudly.
“You’re pathetic,” he mumbled to himself as he rose and headed toward McDonald’s, opting for chips.
“Excuse me...May I speak with you?”
The pretty, petite young woman who seemed to emerge from the crowd like a ghost approached him with a tentative smile.
“Who? Me?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I have something for you.”
This put him on his guard. Strangers with unlooked-for gifts were rarely good news. He put on his broadest grin and responded with impossible brightness: “No thank you.”
The young woman lowered her rucksack and reached inside as though he hadn’t spoken.
“I said, no thank you,” he repeated.
“You’ll want to see this,” she replied matter-of-factly. He braced himself for the worst, fingering the sonic screwdriver in his pocket just in case.
A plastic arm wasn’t at all what he expected.
She handed it to him, and he examined it closely, frowning. It twitched.
He nearly dropped the thing in surprise. “But this is...”
“I knew you’d catch on,” she said cheerfully. Her smile was warming. He wondered at that breezy, sunny smile, given the enormity of the problem she’d just dropped in his lap. “I’m afraid I have to go,” she added.
“But wait...where did you get this?”
“You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said, and, raising herself on tiptoes, kissed him gently on the cheek. “See you at the Royal Hope,” she whispered.
And then she was gone. He turned slowly, scanning the crowd, but he couldn’t catch sight of her.
He made a mental note to find her again. He didn’t know then that he’d have to check himself into hospital to do it.
THE END