The Belted Doctor, Chapter 5
Title: The Belted Doctor, Chapter 5
Author: tkel_paris , aka KendraC
Rating: High T, borderline M for (very) naughty humor, and some hints... Consider yourself warned.
Summary: A crack!fic inspired by a line from “Robin Hood: Men in Tights” and run for its life with. The Doctor is left with a very uncomfortable “protection” against unwanted advances. But will he find the one who is foretold to release him from his... prison?
Disclaimer: Mel Brooks owns “Men in Tights.” The BBC and others own “Doctor Who.” 'Nuff said.
Author's Note: From everything I've gathered about how the Doctor treated Martha, I so wanted her to read him the riot act. This chapter was born from that, and it kind of feeds into the rest of the story. If you've ever wanted her to give him a comeuppance, this is for you!
Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4
CHAPTER FIVE: ANOTHER DOCTOR'S PERSPECTIVE
Martha Jones had never been the type to fall irrationally in love. It was always something kinda predictable and even safe. Her sister and mother sometimes wondered if it was because she was guarding herself against the chaos that emerged in her family.
Figures that her pattern would break under the worst circumstances... Some athlete or a humanitarian breaking her heart, that she might have guessed could happen. An alien who didn't realize how his own facial expressions could be interpreted at times?
Good god, she definitely needed to get out and back into the world.
Of course, she could always remember one nice thing about traveling with the Doctor. She knew the truth about Shakespeare's Dark Lady. That would keep her smiling for a long time...
She got out everything that needed saying: why she was leaving, and that she wished him well. She was rather impressed that she managed to smile so much. She wondered briefly if she'd taken after him in that way.
As she was leaving - for the last time - it dawned on Martha that someone else might stumble into the same trap that she did: falling for a lonely man who'd lost someone he said was a dear friend, and whose memory he seemed to keep close. She supposed that it hadn't helped her that the Doctor seemed very conflicted whenever a mere mention of Rose even came near a conversation. The man needs a few home truths, she decided.
She took a great deal of pleasure from the look on his face as he realized that someone else was leaving him - although she'd never admit it to him (but she might eventually tell another companion, should she run into one who wasn't a zealous defender of his “virtues”). Now it was time - huh, now there was a word that she could never hear or look at the same way again - to completely shock him.
“You know what? Do your next companions a favor and restrain your facial expressions. Not to mention what you say.”
That pulled him out of the stupor that saying she was leaving put him into. “What? Why?”
Martha couldn't help but laugh out loud as a few more things became crystal clear about the Doctor. “You mean, you don't realize that when you asked me to come with you, you were practically giving me a flirty 'come hither' look?”
The Doctor's jaw nearly unhinged.
“And did you ever really apologize for the kiss you planted on me at the hospital - or even warn me about what it was for? No! Did it occur to you what being stuck supporting you in 1969 did to my mind and my feelings? Or hiding in 1913 and looking out for a hidden you? Oh, and remembering what it was like to walk the world alone for your sake?! Do you ever bother to even stop and think bout the things you ask of us and how we might deal with them?”
He couldn't make his vocal chords work. Not even his fingers would move.
Another laugh, this time disbelieving escaped her. “Oh, my God! You're completely clueless about feelings - others and your own! I can only imagine how much this messed with Rose's head.”
Had he nearly recovered the ability to speak, that last part would've make him choke on his words. As it was, he felt his breathing stop.
Martha sighed heavily. “I hope the next one isn't so easily swayed. Oh, it'd be such poetic justice for you to fall completely, head over feet, nutters for someone who isn't immediately under your influence and is even able to continue resisting it! I've never wished such hurt on anyone, but I think it might be exactly what you need and I even kind of wish I could see it!”
It occurred to her that she'd never seen him so still. Wow, I must've shocked him good. My job is done then. “Well, best be off now. Try to not get into too much trouble, okay?”
And with a wave, she left. As she walked away from the TARDIS, Martha Jones - although her heart felt heavy over leaving the person she loved and for inflicting pain on him - felt like she could conquer anything. She only hoped that he would learn the lesson she tried to teach him...
Meanwhile, the Doctor tried to recover his ability to think - let alone move. It took quite a lot longer than he was comfortable with. Me, a flirt? He reached though his memories of the journeys since the Time-War, trying to understand where Martha's accusation came from. Jack Harkness, every gender's man, was a flirt. Casanova was perhaps the greatest flirt in Earth's history. But me? I'm not a flirt! Not in the slightest!
And then it dawned on him how observant Martha could be. As a training physician, she had to be able to read through the lines of patients' stories, and be able to tell when they were withholding potentially vital information out of some personal reason. Suddenly, the weight of her words hit, especially the part about Rose.
Oh, no... His hands whipped to his head and grabbed his hair, nearly pulling a good chunk out. Oh, no... If I'd had the slightest clue, I could've changed my behavior around Rose. It might've encouraged her to move on, and even leave of her own free will.
It dawned on him that he had no idea whether his awkward words at Bad Wolf Bay got through to her distraught, desperate mind. All because this incarnation is a natural flirt, he realized, and I didn't know.
He sent the TARDIS into the vortex, and mentally prepared for a few rounds with the Dalek punching bag. A sort of reversion to his last self, but it worked. He usually condemned the use of violence and guns, but there was nothing like an aggressive, angry workout to become functional after a giant bout of Time-Lord sized self-flagellation.
Of course, the universe had a better way of lifting him out of it. A spaceship with the worst name ever...
Chapter 6: I Can't Believe It's You Again!