Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Dr Who – Martha and Ten The Inbetweens and Backstories ❯ Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )

'Thank you . . . for everything,' Martha said sincerely, with a sad smile as they stood outside the TARDIS.

'It was my pleasure,' the Doctor said with a warm smile in return. He opened the TARDIS door, and stepped inside, walking up the ramp to the console, powering up the atom accelerator, and releasing the time rotor handbrake to start it pumping up and down. So, here he was again, alone with his thoughts, with his memories, and the words of Professor Lazarus echoing in his mind.

'I will change what it means to be human?' he said out loud. He looked urgently at the console and flicked the switch on the harmonic generator, and slammed home the materialise/dematerialise lever.

Martha was still standing with her back to the window, where the TARDIS had been, seconds before. She was reflecting sadly, on the most incredible man that she had ever met, and couldn't stop thinking about. He'd kissed her in the hospital, and it was . . . wonderful, she'd felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and that had never happened before, on the rare occasion when she kissed a boyfriend.

At first, she thought it was wishful thinking, when she heard that magical sound. But no, she felt the breeze, and turned to see it materialise once more in her flat.

The door opened, and the Doctor stuck his head out. 'No, I'm sorry; did he say he was going to change what it means to be human?'

'I think so, yeah . . . why, is it important?'

He gave her that look, the one like she had just dribbled down her purple blouse. 'Well, unless he means eating too much, drinking too much, making stupid mistakes, and having a predisposition for self annihilation, then yes, it's very important.'

He stepped back into the room and switched the TV back on, but the story had moved on. It was the 24 hour news channel, and the story would come around again in about half an hour. 'Right, first things first Martha, put the kettle on, I think we need a cuppa,' he said, sitting on the sofa. 'Secondly, you need to phone your sister and get an invite to this shindig this evening.'

'Oi mister,' she said in pretend annoyance. 'You've dumped me, remember? I don't travel with you anymore, or had you forgotten?'

He looked up at her and gave her one of his boyish grins. 'Wellll, if you don't want to come with me . . .' he reached inside his jacket and pulled out the wallet with the psychic paper. ' . . . .I can always gatecrash,' he said, waving it at her.

She rolled her eyes and laughed. 'I'll put the kettle on.' She was only too happy to make a cup of tea; it meant that he would be staying for at least a little bit longer. And actually, if they went to this Professor Lazarus presentation, it would give her a chance to walk in on the Doctor's arm, and hopefully he would see what a great couple they would make together.

They sat there, drinking tea, as the story cycled around again, and they got the full story. Richard Lazarus had been working for decades on a gene manipulator that he hoped would slow down, prevent, and even reverse cellular ageing. The Lazarus Laboratories in Southwark would hold a black tie event this evening, where Professor Lazarus would demonstrate the culmination of his life's work.

'Right then, I need to get dressed,' he said as he sprang up off the sofa and headed for the TARDIS door. 'I'll see you in your glad rags in a few minutes.'

'You'll do no such thing,' she said indignantly. 'You'll see me in my evening gown in about an hour,' and went through to the bathroom to have a long soak, and only then would she get dressed and put her face on.

In the TARDIS wardrobe, (which Rose always called a clothing department), he found his dinner suit still on the hanger from the last time he had worn it. He had a flashback, as he saw Rose in her maids outfit, serving drinks and Hors d'oeuvres to guests at Jackie Tyler's fortieth birthday party in the alternate universe.

Was she still living at the mansion with her parents, he wondered, or had she moved into her own place? Money for a nice place, in a posh area of London wouldn't be a problem, as her "new" father was loaded. He hoped she was having a good life, and that now and again she would give a thought to an old friend from the old world.

He put the dinner suit on, all except the bow tie, and looked at himself in the full length mirror, giving a lopsided smile at his black converse on his feet. You never knew when you might need to run, and tonight promised to be one of those occasions. He went back through the console room, and into Martha's flat. She wouldn't be ready for ages yet, so he went to find the kettle in the kitchen and make another cup of tea.

He was sitting on the sofa, watching the news, when Martha emerged from her bedroom in a flowing, deep purple, evening gown. Her hair was swept back with a black headband, and she looked a million dollars. The Doctor stood politely and stared at her, really seeing her for the first time. She wasn't a medical student, or a passenger, she was a beautiful woman.

'You scrub up well,' she said with a smile.

'Eh? Er, yeah . . . and you,' he said absently. 'Er, I don't mean scrub up . . . I mean you look . . .' he wanted to say beautiful, because she was, but he felt that she might take that the wrong way, and to him, at the moment, only Rose could be called beautiful. 'You look very nice.'

'Nice?' she said, oh well, I suppose that would have to do for now. 'Thank you.'

She noticed that he'd got his bow tie in his hand. 'Would you like me to do that?'

'Er, no, I can do it myself really; I just wanted to leave it until the last minute. Y'know, makes me feel all restricted around my neck.'

'Come here,' she said in a motherly tone. She took the bow tie off him and started to feed it around his collar, and tie it. She smiled, as he behaved like a young child being forced to wear their Sunday best. 'There you are, all done.'

`Beep, beep'.

They heard a car horn outside. 'Ah, that'll be the taxi; I called them while I was getting ready.'

'Well then Miss Jones, would you do me the honour of letting me accompany you to an evening of revelations?' He held out his arm and waggled his eyebrows.

'Well Doctor, how could a lady possibly refuse?'

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After a very eventful evening of scientific revelations, Martha and the Doctor were sitting in a taxi, heading back to her flat. She was reflecting on how they had seemed to have gotten a little closer this evening, and there hadn't been any awkward silences where he would think about his ex.

The Doctor, on the other hand, was reflecting on how he never had trouble with the mothers of his companions in the past, and started a role call of past, female assistants. He could discount Susan, because she was family, her mother, his daughter had died when she was young, and he doubted his own daughter would have slapped his face anyway.

There had been Barbara, Vicki, Katarina, Sarah, Dodo, Polly, Vicky, Zoe, Liz, Jo, Sarah Jane, Leela, Romana, Nyssa, Tegan, Sharon, Peri, Mel, Ace, Benny, Roz, Olla, Grace, Stacey, Izzy, Fey, Destrii, Samantha, Compassion, Anji, Lucie, and Ali . . .

He stopped, stunned by the number of people he had travelled with over the years, and they were only the females, and not once did he have a domestic altercation with their mothers. So it was Jackie Tyler who had started the current trend of giving him a slap, and Martha's mother, Francine, seemed keen to continue the trend and turn it into a tradition.

The Doctor had a great deal of respect for Clive Jones, having met his ex wife. At first, he wondered if it was Francine who had proposed to Clive, but then realised that she had probably told him that they were getting married, and the man deserved a medal for staying with her long enough to produce three children.

He thought about Jackie Tyler; she was scary, but it was because she was fiercely protective of her daughter. Francine on the other hand, was just plain scary. It never occurred to him that Francine may have become bitter and twisted because Clive had strayed from the fold, so to speak.

The taxi pulled up outside Martha's flat, and they climbed out, paid the driver and entered the flat. They squeezed past the TARDIS and stood in front of the doors.

He put the key in the lock and opened the door. 'Something else that just kind of escalated, then.'

'I can see a pattern developing . . . you should take more care in the future, and the past, and whatever other time period you find yourself in,' she said with a laugh.

'its good fun, though, isn't it?' he laughed.

'Yeah.'

'So, what d'you say . . . one more trip?'

There was a long pause while she thought about his offer. 'No . . . sorry.'

'What do you mean? I thought you liked it,' he said in surprise.

'I do, but I can't go on like this. "One more trip." It's not fair,' she told him; she'd had enough of playing second fiddle to the ghost of his ex girlfriend.

'What're you talking about?' He was genuinely baffled by her refusal.

'I don't want to be just a passenger anymore. Someone you take along for a treat. If that's how you still see me, well, I'd rather stay here.'

Ah, so that was it, she wanted to sign up for the long haul; he had another flashback.

['What're you going to do?']

['Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords.']

['On your own?']

'Okay, then . . . if that's what you want,' he said, as long as she realised that he was a one woman man, and that woman was Rose, then fine, she'd be a brilliant travelling companion.

Martha gave him the slightest `head wobble' of attitude. 'Right.' After all that they'd been through, and everything she'd done for him, even saving his life! 'Well we've already said good-bye once today so it's really best if you just go,' she said angrily, as she turned her back on him and walked away.

She didn't hear him say goodbye, she didn't hear the door close, or the engine start up, it was as if he hadn't moved at all. She turned around and saw him standing there with his hands in his pockets, as though he was waiting for something.

'What is it?' she asked quietly.

'What . . . ? I said okay,' he said. What was the matter, hadn't she heard him?

'Sorry?' she said with a frown of confusion.

He nodded his head sideways at the door. 'Okay.'

The realisation hit her and she ran to him and hugged him around the neck. 'Oh, thank you! Thank you!'

'Welllll, you were never really just a passenger, were you?' he said with a smile, as she ran past him and into the TARDIS.

He closed the doors, and looked over to the console, where Martha stood with an excited smile. He walked up the ramp, and activated the inertial dampers, engaged the harmonic generator, released the locking down mechanism, pulled the engine release lever, activated the materialise/dematerialise function, and gradually increased the space-time throttle, putting the TARDIS into the Vortex.

'So where do we go next then?' she asked excitedly.

He thought about that question with a smile, and then realised that there had been a serious oversight on their part. He looked her up and down, which Martha mistook for an appreciative look, and blushed.

'Now, I know Bond girls get dressed up to the nine's, when they go to cocktail parties where the villains are,' he told her. 'But trust me; there aren't many adventures we've had where wearing an evening gown and high heels has been an advantage.'

There was one occasion he thought about, where they went to a swanky, fortieth birthday party at a mansion, in another universe . . .

'However, while we are dressed for a party, how does Times Square, 20th July 1969 sound?'

'Hang on, isn't that the moon landing?'

'Yep, it's one hell of a party.' He set the controls, and landed the TARDIS in the middle of Times Square. Martha hurried down the ramp, and out the door, with the Doctor following her out into the throng of party goers.

Hours later, they returned to the TARDIS, laughing and giggling, intoxicated with the atmosphere of celebration.

'Do you want to see them do it?' the Doctor asked her with a grin.

'What, you mean actually see them land?'

He nodded, and set the coordinates for the Sea of Tranquility on the moon.

'Do we have to watch it on a monitor or something?' she asked him, wondering how they were going to watch the historic event.

'Why, don't you want to see it for real?' he asked her as he shut down the console and headed for the doors.

'But what about the air?' she called after him as he turned the latch.

He grinned at her. 'We've got plenty.' He opened the doors, and Martha gasped at the view, it was the second time she'd seen that view in as many days, and it was still stunning. He looked up into the inky blackness, and pointed at a star that seemed to be moving.

'There they are,' he said, pointing at the light that was getting larger by the second. A couple of minutes later, they could clearly see the Lunar Excursion Module hovering over the lunar landscape, kicking up dust as it went. Eventually, there was a huge plume of grey dust, as the LEM touched down. The dust fell, as quickly as it had risen, thanks to the vacuum of space.

'Oh my God, that was fantastic,' she said, clapping her hands. 'Can we get any closer, and, I don't know, maybe follow them down?'

He grinned at her. 'Bitten by the bug huh?'

He reset the console again, then again . . . and again, until they had seen the landing in as many different ways as he could think of.

'Well, I think we've done that to death, time to go and get you something to wear.'

He performed the tricky landing again, and put the TARDIS in her flat. As she went into her bedroom to pack, the Doctor stood, leaning against the door, with his arms crossed. After a few minutes, she came out of her bedroom carrying a large, black holdall. She went to the clothes horse, and putting the holdall on the floor, grabbed all her underwear and stuffed it inside before zipping it up.

'There, I'm ready,' she said with a satisfied smile. The Doctor stepped aside as she picked up the holdall, and stepped inside, never noticing that there was a message on her answer phone.

The Doctor started the time rotor once more, before turning to her and giving her a welcoming smile. 'Right then, we'd better find somewhere for you to put all that and get changed . . . this way.'

He led her through the corridor that led away from the console room. They went past the forbidden 'Rose's' room, although Martha was dying to have a peek inside, to see if she could glean some information on the woman who had made such an impact on his life.

They went past the kitchen come dining room, past a couple of other doors, and a door to their left seemed to click open on its own.

'Here we are then, I think this is your room,' he said, opening the door wide for her.

'Hang on, this is like my old bedroom back at Mum's house, like it was before I moved into my flat,' she said, looking at him suspiciously.

'Whoops, the TARDIS taps into your strongest memories, the ones with the strongest emotional commitment.'

'You mean that your ship is in my head?' she asked in disbelief.

'Oh yes,' he said as a matter of fact. 'She's trying to make you feel at home.'

'What, and now you're telling me the TARDIS is alive.'

He gave her one of his boyish grins. 'Yeah, isn't that brilliant.'

'Yeah, terrific,' she said uncertainly.

'I'll leave you to get settled, and see you in the console room when you're done.' He left the room and gently closed the door behind him.