A/N: As a fan of both Doctor Who and the Stargate series, it always seemed to me that Martha Jones and Jonas Quinn had a lot in common. Both are interesting, relatable, perfectly lovely characters who are under-appreciated and occasionally even unwanted by the other characters and the fans, when the only thing either of them did wrong was not getting there first. I adore them both and thought it would be nice to see them shine together.

As to timelines, this takes place sometime between 'Blink' and 'Utopia' for Martha, and shortly after 'Descent' for Jonas.

As always, none of it belongs to me, BBC, MGM, etc., etc.

Rachel and Miki started the conversation, and this is what happened. This one is for you.

The iron bars slammed shut behind Martha with an echoing clang as she was shoved roughly into the darkened cell. She stumbled and spun around, but her captors had already disappeared, leaving no one for her to shout at. Deciding not to waste a perfectly good set of swear words on an empty hallway, she settled for kicking the door soundly instead, which wasn't nearly as satisfying.

The truly dreadful days were few and far between on the TARDIS, but this one was definitely making up for their absence. It had gone off right from the start, when the Doctor decided the TARDIS needed some fine-tuning before they went anywhere. Of course, Martha didn't help with the actual mending, but it would seem she couldn't even watch him do it the right way. One minute she'd been handing him tools, and the next he'd been mumbling to himself that he couldn't figure out what was wrong, but Rose had always gotten on so well with the TARDIS—even looked into the heart of the Vortex that one time (because she'd never heard that one before, please, Doctor, do tell me again about how she became the Goddess of Time for one glorious moment, glowing with the light of a thousand suns while the winds of time sang as she defeated the Daleks with a wave of her hand)—and Martha found herself clenching one of the tools tightly in her fist in an effort not to throw it at him. (She'd been having that sort of feeling rather more frequently since Farringham, and kept meaning to sit the Doctor down and have a conversation about it.)

She really didn't want to hate Rose, who she'd never met and was sure was perfectly lovely, but there are only so many times a girl can be told she's second-rate before she wants to chuck a spanner at someone.

Having started off the day with ruffled feathers, running into trouble almost as soon as they landed did nothing to improve things. There were massive men with metal armour, misunderstandings that were really entirely the Doctor's fault, and quite a lot of shouting during which Martha was pretty sure she'd been called a witch. All of this followed, of course, by arrest, separate cells in a dungeon that gave Martha a real understanding of the word 'squalid' for the first time, and she hadn't even had breakfast yet.

She spun around with a growl, kicking viciously at a stone on the floor and sending it off into the darkness. She heard it make contact with an oddly solid sounding thud, followed by a sharp exclamation of "Ow!"

Jonas Quinn was not having a very good day. Three weeks now as an official member of SG-1, and he really thought he would have got the hang of it by now. If not that, at least he thought he should have started feeling comfortable with where he was. That was kind of hard though, when where he was didn't seem to be where anyone else wanted him. The Colonel didn't say a word to him outside of their missions, and barely even then. Sam was polite, if a little distant, but he thought she might be warming up to him. She was smiling at him more, at any rate. Teal'c was the only one who seemed to really let him in, but he sure didn't talk very much. Jonas could never tell where he stood with the three of them. Sometimes he thought he was really making it, but then something would happen to make him feel like he was back at square one. Today had fallen into that second category.

They'd been gearing up for the mission when Sam had noticed that Jonas was packing one of Dr. Jackson's notebooks in his bag. He'd explained that the people they'd be visiting were similar to a group SG-1 had run across before, and the notes could really help with the language. A distinct chill settled over the room, and Jonas could tell that he'd made some sort of mistake, but he wasn't sure what. Was it bringing up a mission Dr. Jackson had been on, or was it that he had the notebook to start with? Or, he thought with a sigh as the others left for the Gate room (or stalked, in the Colonel's case), was it just that he wasn't Daniel?

They'd run into some Jaffa not long after arriving on the planet. Jonas had taken a staff blast to the shoulder, been caught and thrown in this hole of a cell. He had no idea where the rest of his team was, but he knew he'd created an extra problem by getting captured. If they found him before he got executed, they were going to be annoyed. He wondered if they'd even be looking for him, and he hoped they would, but he couldn't quite convince himself to be certain. And it was cold and dark and his shoulder really hurt, and to top it off, someone had just kicked a rock into the side of his head.

"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry!" Martha exclaimed. She still couldn't see who she had hit, but there was obviously someone back there. "I didn't know anyone was over there. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," came a man's voice, followed shortly by a groan and shuffling footsteps as the owner of the voice got to his feet and stepped into the semi-light by the door. He didn't seem to be much older than Martha, looked like he was probably human, and was wearing a dirty uniform and a pained grimace.

"Sorry," she said again, taking in the look on his face. "It looks like it hurt."

He shrugged but stopped halfway through with a wince. "It did, but a rock to the head is by no means the worst I've had today," he explained, easing out of the shrug. "No harm done." He smiled and extended a hand. "I'm Jonas, by the way."

"Martha," she said, taking his hand.

"So what are you in for?" he asked, moving back into the darkness and lowering himself back to the floor.

Martha came and sat next to him. "Not really sure," she admitted. "Possibly witchcraft. They don't seem to be fans of the mobile phone around here, which I will have to mention to my mum next time she calls while I'm being arrested." Another point against the day: She was going to have to get a new phone now.

To her surprise, Jonas laughed. She'd been expecting the witchcraft remark to put him off, but she could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, "So you're not from around here either?"

Martha considered for a moment before deciding what the hell, the Doctor brought up time travel often enough, no reason she couldn't. She told Jonas about the TARDIS and the Doctor, all of which he found fascinating. He in turn told her about his team, SG-1, and the Stargate (a means of instantaneous interplanetary travel via wormhole), which she found equally as interesting. She also learned about the Jaffa—the men in metal armour they had encountered earlier, and their masters, the Goa'uld—parasitic creatures with delusions of godhood.

"You know," she said. "I think that explains a few things. When we were talking to the villagers, one of them said something about 'the will of Ba'al' which got the Doctor started on a rant about false gods and thinking for yourself and stuff like that. It wasn't long after he started doing that those Jaffa blokes showed up and dragged us off."

"Yeah," Jonas said. "Your friend was right, of course, but that may not have been the smartest move."

"So, since you've got the experience in this area, what happens next?"

He laughed again, but there was a bitter tone to it that hadn't been there before. "Well, I don't know that you'd call three weeks on the job a lot of experience, but you'll probably be interrogated, although depending on what your Doctor friend does and if nobody brings up the word 'Earth', you might be able to avoid getting killed. Me, they know I'm SG-1, which means a mother ship—possibly even Ba'al's—has been called up, and I'm only alive until it gets here."

"Right. Can't say I fancy any of that. Options for escape?" she asked.

He shrugged and winced again. "I really need to stop doing that," he muttered. "Um, the door looks primitive, but it's actually locked by that computer panel across the hall," he said, pointing through the cell bars to a computer terminal that was the only source of light in the corridor. "So, not good, really. I was hoping for a rescue, or, failing that, putting up a fight when they open the door."

Martha agreed that the prospects seemed pretty grim. Her eyes were better adjusted to the poor light now, and she scanned the room, hoping to find something else. "What about that vent up there?"

Jonas's eyes followed where she was pointing. "In theory, it should run along the cells and come out somewhere along this hallway." He cocked a doubtful eyebrow. "It's kind of small, though."

"Yeah, well, so am I," Martha countered. "Worth a shot, don't you think?"

He grinned. "I would think so."

In order to get to the vent, Martha had to climb on Jonas's shoulders. This proved to be immensely difficult, as it turned out Jonas had not been kidding when he said a rock to the head wasn't the worst he'd had that day. Picking herself up off the floor, Martha crossed her arms and glared at him. "You might have mentioned you'd gotten shot in the shoulder before having me climb on it."

"How else were you supposed to get up there?" he asked, his voice tight with pain. Before she could reply, he went on. "I'd much rather this than interrogation and certain death."

"That's fair, but—"

"I can do this. Look, take off your shoes, and just stand on the other one. I'll…counterbalance, or something."

Martha remained sceptical, and her heart ached at the thought of injuring him any further, but he was right, there wasn't really much of an option. Carefully, and very awkwardly, she tried again, supporting herself on the wall as much as she could manage, Jonas doing the same beneath her. Fortunately, the vent was very loosely attached, and she was able to pull it off quickly. Hoisting herself up on her elbows, she pulled herself forward. Jonas grabbed her feet and shifted them off his shoulder and into his hands, pushing her up slowly until was in.

She heard him sigh in relief and sink back to the floor. "You think you can make it?" he asked.

"Yeah," she assured him. It was a tight fit, but if she laid flat, she could pull with her arms and push with her bare feet well enough to make some headway. "It's a bit cramped, but I'll manage. Are you alright?"

"I'll live," he told her. "But let's not do that again."

"Deal. This next part might take a bit."

Once Martha's feet had disappeared inside the vent, Jonas allowed his eyes to close as he leaned back against the wall. It was taking more effort than he would have admitted to anyone not to cry, his shoulder was hurting so badly. Still, it would be worth it if it worked. The soft shuffling sounds of Martha moving in the vent were getting farther away, and he hoped that if anyone else heard them, it would sound like whatever this planet's equivalent of a rat was.

He must have started drifting off to sleep, because he started in surprise at the sound of Martha's voice hissing at him from outside the door. "You made it!" he said, moving over to the door.

"Yeah, sorry it took so long," she said. "It took me forever to find the end of that thing. So," she stepped back to gesture at the computer. "How do I get it to open the door?"

Jonas's mind raced through all the Goa'uld language he'd taught himself over the past few months. (At least all that time sitting around and waiting to be put on a team had had some benefit.) "Let's see, open, open, open," he muttered. "Okay, um, is there a button with a symbol on it that has a couple of lines that go like this," he gestured. "And another vertical one and it kind of looks like a chicken?"

"Oh, you're as bad at describing things as the Doctor," Martha said, rolling her eyes. "But no, no chicken buttons."

"Okay, what about one with vertical lines with a triangle in the middle?"

"There is one of those," she said after another search of the keyboard. Her finger hovered over it and Jonas nodded, so she pressed it. The door swung open—oddly silently, given how loudly it had shut. "Didn't even need the sonic," she said, grinning broadly at him. He had no idea what she was talking about, but he grinned back. She had a very pretty smile.

"So what now?" she asked.

"The rest of the cells are down that way," he replied, pointing behind them. "So if my team and your friend are here, then that's…" He trailed off. "Shh!" he hissed, as Martha started to open her mouth. He knew that sound. "Actually, we should go this way," he pointed in the opposite direction. "Because I think the Jaffa are coming."

The alarm on Martha's face told him she could hear them now too, and she nodded. Quickly and quietly as they could manage, they slunk off into the shadows.

Before long, they found an exit and were able to slip out unnoticed into the woods. The sun was starting to set, for which Jonas was grateful. The cover of night would make them harder to find, once someone noticed they were missing.

"Stupid time travel," he heard Martha mutter.


"Oh, nothing," she sighed. "Only, it was breakfast when we got off the TARDIS, and it's almost night now. It messes with your internal clock. My head thinks it should be ten in the morning."

"I can see how that would be annoying."

"Right. Well, sit down and let me have a look at you."

"What?" he asked. Had he missed something?

"I want to take a look at your shoulder before the light goes." She paused. "Did I not mention I'm a medical student?"

"No," he said, but he smiled and sat down in front of a tree. She moved in and began peeling away the tatters of his sleeve to get a better look, probing the wound with gentle fingers. Jonas flinched despite the lightness of her touch, and cast his eyes around for something to take his mind off the pain. They settled on her feet. "Where are your shoes?"

"In the cell," she said absently, her mind on her work. "Forgot to pick them back up."

"You've been running through the woods barefoot?" he asked. That had to hurt.

"This from the man who had me climbing on his gunshot wound," she retorted. He looked up to see her flash a cheeky smile. "I can make it if you can." She stepped back, carefully folding the material of his sleeve back over the wound and rummaging in one of her jacket pockets. "I can fix this, but we're going to need to find some water."

"The village should be off on the other side of those trees," Jonas said, nodding toward the setting sun.

"I doubt the witch and the fugitive are going to be particularly welcome," Martha pointed out.

"No, probably not," he said, hoisting himself to his feet with a grunt. "But it'll be dark soon, and there is a well."

"In that case, lead on."

It was a short walk to the outskirts of town, but it still took a while to get there. Martha was moving more carefully without her shoes (having declined Jonas's offer to wear his), and she suspected that Jonas was glad of the slower pace as well. It was properly dark by the time they arrived.

The well was a simple bucket and rope system. Martha got it going easily enough—after firmly insisting to Jonas that his chivalry was appreciated but unnecessary, as she was trying to fix his shoulder, not make it worse. Once the bucket was up, she ran into another problem, however.

"Well, it's dark enough no one will see us, but I can't see to fix anything now."

Jonas began patting at the pockets on his vest. "Hang on, I don't think they took everything…Ah! Here," he said, holding out a small pocket torch.

"Nice one," Martha said approvingly. She clamped the torch between her teeth so that she could have the use of both her hands and got to work.

Once the wound had been cleaned off, Martha was relieved to see it didn't look as bad as she had thought. When he'd said he'd been shot, she'd been expecting a bullet wound—this seemed to be the result of an energy weapon, and was more of a burn. A bad one, sure, but not as bad as a hole in his shoulder would have been.

She reached for a small bag in her jacket pocket, then stopped. "Silly question, maybe," she began, taking the torch out of her mouth. "But are you human?"

"Yeah," Jonas answered with a quizzical smile. "Is that important?"

"Well," she replied, opening the bag. "I've learned to be careful about using Earth medicine on non-humans. Didn't want to accidentally kill you or anything."

"I appreciate the thought. Looks like you came prepared," he said, nodding at the bag.

"I like to think I've learned something in my travels," she said. "Now hold still, this might sting a little bit."

She encouraged Jonas to talk while she worked—her mouth was otherwise occupied with the torch, and her brain with the task at hand, but it would help keep his mind off the pain. He told her—punctuated by the occasional wince—about his home planet of Kelowna, the war there and the events that led up to him joining SG-1. (Apparently, someone had died, and the undertones in his voice told Martha he was blaming himself for it. Mental note to see about that later.) He talked too about his time on Earth and how much he was enjoying learning about it. She just managed not to laugh upon discovering his enthusiasm for the Weather Channel. That was adorable.

Her first aid bag was not big enough for the size of bandages she needed to finish up properly, but Jonas's undershirt was clean enough to do the job, with enough left over to put together a sling. "There," she said proudly, tying the knot on the sling. "That ought to do it."

Jonas stood and gingerly tested his range of motion. "That feels so much better," he said with a smile. "You're amazing."

Martha couldn't help a pleased grin creeping across her face. Didn't seem like she heard much of that these days. "Thanks. But stop moving it so much or I'll have to do it all again."

"Yes, doctor," he said, saluting with his good hand.

Before Martha could say anything else, the sky above them was suddenly bathed in light. She looked up with a startled gasp, then gasped again when Jonas grabbed her around the waist and yanked her into the shadow of a nearby barn. Her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, Martha could now make out the underside of a ship soaring overhead, heading for a nearby valley. It was massive. "Is that…?"

"That would be the mother ship," Jonas confirmed.

"This can't be good."

"Nope." Jonas paused. "We're going to have to get on it."

"What?! The massive ship where all the Goa'uld and the Jaffa are?"


"How hard did I hit you with that rock?"

"No, listen," he said patiently. "We're trying to find the Doctor, right? Well, that's where he's going to be."

"I thought you said the mother ship was called because of you."

"It was. But a time traveler? That's big. Ba'al himself would show up for that."

"Bloody hell," Martha sighed.


Martha took in a deep breath. "Alright. Tell me how to get in there."

"What do you mean? I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. You're hurt and this isn't your fight. There's no way I'm letting you come along and get killed."

Jonas scoffed. "Okay, first of all, it's not like you're in such great shape yourself with your bare feet. Secondly, I'm not just going to 'come along and get killed'. Thirdly, and most importantly, like hell I'm letting you go in there on your own." She raised an eyebrow. "Look, you've already proved that you can take care of yourself. But these guys are dangerous. I'm going to follow you anyway, so you may as well let me."

Martha studied him for a moment. "Yeah, alright. I didn't fancy going in there on my own anyway. But what about your team? Won't they be looking for you?"

He sighed, a deep sigh that made Martha think she might have touched a nerve. "If they got caught too, they'll be taken to the ship. And if not, well, they've got stuff to do—I doubt they'll miss me. So are we going?"

He began walking in the direction of the ship. Martha hurried after him. "Sorry," she said after an uncomfortable silence. "Didn't mean to bring up anything I shouldn't have."

Jonas sighed and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…It's not your fault. It just hasn't been a good day for me."

"I can see that." She thought for a long moment. "This is something to do with that man who died, isn't it?"

Jonas was quiet for a long time. Martha was remarkably perceptive. Of course, he hadn't meant to say any of that to start with, and he certainly hadn't meant to snap at her like that.

"Sorry," Martha said again. "Never mind. It's not any of my business."

"No, it's fine," he assured her. "And you're right, it is to do with Dr. Jackson. I just…You don't really want to hear about it." He got the feeling he wasn't making the best impression (which was all he seemed to be doing these days), and didn't want to make it any worse by complaining.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't care," she said, smiling warmly. "Let me guess: Dr. Jackson died and you're doing his job now, and you feel like everyone resents you for it?"

Jonas's eyes went wide in surprise. In one sentence, she had completely summed up the inside of his head. "How…?"

She smiled again, but he noticed it didn't reach her eyes this time. "I'm good at people. And you're not the only one trying to live with a ghost."

"Really?" he said sceptically.

"You've got Dr. Jackson, and I've got Rose. She was the Doctor's…whatever I am, assistant? Friend or companion or whatever you want to call it, she was there before me. Believe me when I say I know what you're going through."

He was starting to understand now. "She did everything right, and everything you do isn't quite good enough?"

Martha nodded back. "Exactly. And whenever your team looks at you, they're seeing who they wish you were?"

Jonas couldn't help a small smile. Lots of people would say they understood you, but just this once, someone actually did. "Are you sure you're not a witch? 'Cause I'm not sure how else you got inside my head," he teased.

Martha laughed softly. "Maybe I am. I did meet a couple of them. Used some Harry Potter, helped Shakespeare save the world."

"I feel like there's a cultural reference there I don't understand, but well done. I think."

"Yes, it was well done," she said primly. "Thank you."

This time he laughed. He liked her.

"And for the record," she went on. "You may not think your team appreciates you, but they must have seen something to put you on in the first place."

He cocked his head non-committally. "I don't know. I might just be there so they didn't have to put a Russian guy on the team."

"Right. Not quite sure why that would be an issue, but I've known you for all of four hours now, and there's more to you than just not being Russian. Prove to them they made the right choice," she challenged. "Three weeks in is too soon to be giving up on anything just yet."

"I wasn't planning on giving anything up," he assured her. "But…thanks. I needed that."

"I did tell you I was good at people."

"Yes you are." They reached the top of a small rise, and he could tell they still had about a mile to go to reach the ship. "So what is Shakespeare?"

It took them a long time to get to the ship. It was a long walk to start with, Jonas was tired and sore, and Martha's feet were absolutely killing her. She was starting to wish she had taken him up on his earlier offer, even if his shoes were far too big.

"So, do we have a plan?" she whispered. They were crouched in the bushes just outside the circle of light surrounding the ship. They could see the entrance from where they were, and they had arrived in time to see the Doctor and SG-1 being marched onto the ship. They could also see a small army of the Jaffa soldiers stationed outside and patrolling the nearby woods, so she didn't see how they were meant to get inside.

When no answer was forthcoming, she turned around and was alarmed to see that Jonas was no longer behind her. "Jonas!" she hissed. The woods were silent. She took a deep breath, trying not to panic. How long had he been gone?

Just then, one of the Jaffa crashed through the bushes in front of her. Martha let out a small shriek of alarm and scuttled backwards, trying to get to her feet and stopping short when she hit a tree. The Jaffa stood there. What was it waiting for?

Instead of advancing on her, it remained where it was and made an awkward, thoroughly unintimidating motion with its right arm. Then, with an air of resignation, it dropped the staff weapon it was holding in its left hand and lifted the hand to touch something on the back of its neck. The elaborate helmet opened and folded neatly in on itself to reveal its occupant. It was Jonas.

Martha let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she demanded.

"I'm sorry," Jonas said, looking apologetic and confused. "I didn't mean to scare you." He paused, sensing that more of an explanation was in order. "I found one of the Jaffa off on his own, knocked him out and took his armour."

"I…can see that. You might have mentioned you were going to do that—you scared me half to death!"

"I did tell you."


"Yeah, I said I had an idea and I would be right back," he said. "Did you not hear me?"



"With the ship making noise and the soldiers tromping around, it is very loud around here," she snapped, climbing to her feet.

"Sorry," he said again. "I thought you knew where I was going."

"Yeah, well, I'm glad you're alright." She stopped, looking him up and down. "You took off your sling to get into that, didn't you?"

Jonas rolled his eyes. "Yes, but, come on, big picture here."

Martha nodded in acquiescence. "So does this mean you have a plan?"

"Yes. By now, they know we got out of jail, right? So I put the helmet back on, march you in there and tell everyone I caught you, then we sneak off and find everyone else."

She blinked in surprise. "That's…That's actually a really good plan."

Jonas grinned. "No need to sound so surprised."

"I guess you are more than just a pretty face and a bad shoulder, aren't you?" Martha teased.

"Yeah, about that…" Jonas began sheepishly. He pointed to the staff weapon he had dropped. "Could you pick that up for me? Because it actually hurts a lot more since I took the sling off, and this armour is really heavy."

Martha smiled to herself, deciding not to say anything more about the sling, and bent to pick up the weapon. He reached for it, but she held on. A thought had just occurred to her. "Wait, how did you knock out one of those Jaffa with one arm? They're absolutely massive."

"I told you I could do more than just get killed. I took a page out of your book and threw a rock at his head. And stop laughing," he said with a smile, snatching the weapon out of her hand and gesturing as menacingly as he could manage with one arm. "You're going in there to get executed, remember?"

Jonas reactivated his helmet, and the two of them marched toward the ship, Martha doing her best to look frightened. It wasn't that much of a stretch, to be honest, especially once they were in sight of the other Jaffa. A particularly large one stepped in front of them, barring their way. "Jaffa!" he barked. "Kree!"

Martha swallowed, but to her surprise, Jonas answered back without any hesitation. After a few seconds, she realized that the TARDIS was translating for her—the sound was just distorted through their helmets and hard for her to make out. The other Jaffa seemed satisfied with Jonas's explanation and stepped aside to let them through. They walked inside, and Martha was amazed to see the resemblance to a pyramid didn't stop at the door. Sure, it wasn't made of stone or anything, but it was all done out very elaborately in hieroglyphics and shiny gold and black metal. A bit flashy, really, but if you were an evil alien pretending to be an ancient god, it kind of worked.

Once they were away from the main entrance, the crowd of soldiers thinned down considerably, and soon they were alone. They walked a little farther, just to be safe, before stopping. Jonas thrust the staff into Martha's unsuspecting hand, and she almost dropped it as the helmet folded back in on itself again and Jonas leaned against the wall with a sigh. "Oh, frack, but this thing is heavy! Help me get it off," he said, breathing heavily.

Martha set down the staff and moved to begin lifting pieces of armour off. Once she had established that he hadn't actually hurt himself any further, she paused long enough to give him a quizzical look? "Frack?" she asked.

"What? I haven't picked up any Earth swear words yet," he told her, unbuckling one of the leg plates. "That's…actually very rude on Kelowna, and I'm feeling the need to apologize for saying it. Especially in front of a girl."

"I'll let it slide this time," Martha said with a smirk. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he assured her, sliding out of the last of the armour. "I had meant to keep it on the whole time we were in here, but I can't manage it with the shoulder. I did keep this, though," he added, pulling the sling out of his pocket.

"Clever boy," she said, taking it and beginning to set it back in place. "You'll go far in this life if you can keep your doctor happy. Better?"

"Much," he said. "Thanks."

"So you speak Jaffa?"

"Goa'uld, actually, but yes."

"And you learned that in the three weeks you've been on the team?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it really took five weeks while I was sitting around waiting to get put on a team, and I'm actually not that good with all the conjugations yet," he replied.

"Still, five weeks for a whole new language?" That was impressive. "You are a clever boy."

Jonas blushed a little, but smiled. "We should probably hide this," he said, pointing to the armour on the floor."

"A bit suspicious," Martha agreed. They dragged it to a nearby storage closet. "It probably wouldn't have been all that good for sneaking around in anyway," she said as they shut the door.

Now that he was free of the Jaffa armour, Jonas felt able to breathe again. Martha was right, it wouldn't have been terribly conducive to getting anywhere quickly. He picked up the staff weapon and looked around, trying to get his bearings. Goa'uld mother ships were at least something he had some experience in. Sure, this one wasn't sinking, and it was full of hostile soldiers, but the setup was the same, and that had to count for something.

"So where to?" Martha asked, casting her eyes warily up and down the corridor.

Jonas bit his lip as he thought. Find the Doctor and SG-1. A life sign detector should be able to do that. Oh, life signs…"We're going to need to find a computer that monitors all the life signs in the ship."

"Right," Martha said. "Because three humans and a Time Lord will stand out, and that will help us find them, yeah?"

"Well, Teal'c is actually a Jaffa, but yeah, they will stand out, and it's the extra two that I'm worried about."

"Extra…" Realization dawned in Martha's eyes. "You mean us?"

"Yeah. If we can find one, I need to try to turn it off," he said.

"Best do that first," Martha agreed. "Not much help to anyone if we get caught, is it?"

After a little more sneaking, Jonas was able to work out where on the ship they were, and finding a sub-control room wasn't too hard after that. Well, not if you read Goa'uld, anyway. Martha gingerly agreed to take the staff weapon and keep an eye on the door as he looked over the computer terminal. Okay, okay, he could do this. Just like any computer—find the menu button first. "Hey, I've got it!" he said after a few minutes. He hoped he didn't sound as relieved as he felt.

Martha drifted over from the door. "And you can tell what that all means?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to look at the screen.

"Yeah. This is them up here," he said, pointing to one corner of the screen. Two humans, one Jaffa, and one…something that was probably the Doctor since it was the only one on the ship. "And this is us," he pointed a little farther down. "They're in the prison block seven floors up."

"That's a long way," Martha pointed out.

"Not really," he assured her. "If we can find a ring transport that's not being watched, that'll make it a lot easier to get up there without being noticed."

"Not sure what that is, but it sounds like it'll work, so alright," she said. "How do you take us off the screen?"

Jonas was quiet for a long moment, contemplating the screen. Telling it to ignore them would be difficult to set up, and they'd notice if he just turned the whole thing off. He crouched down and pried the front panel off the terminal, revealing the programming crystals within. "I'm going to try to make it replay the signals it had before we got here, instead of recording anything new. I can set it on a loop and then we shouldn't have to worry about it."

"That sounds promising," Martha said.

"Yeah, it does. Hopefully I can pull it off," he said, hoping he sounded confident. Martha watched in silence for a few minutes, her eyes flicking back up to the door occasionally, as he considered the crystals, pulling various ones out and switching them around.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "What?" Martha asked.

He gestured at the crystals. "I've almost got it," he said. "It's a little slap-dash, but if I can get these two connected somehow, that should make it work."

"And you don't have anything to connect them?" she asked. He shook his head. "Will this do?" She pulled a chain from around her neck, slipped off a key and handed him the chain.

He tried it, but nothing happened. "No. Whatever it's plated with is keeping it from conducting anything well." Well, it had been a good idea. He handed the chain back. Looks like they were just going to have to be really careful and very fast.

Martha looked thoughtful for a second, then gave a resigned sort of sigh. "I've got an idea," she said. "Could you turn around?"

"What?" he asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

"Just turn around," she repeated, and after a second, he obeyed. He could hear a sort of rustling, ripping sound as she shifted around. "You see, this is the kind of thing I was talking about earlier," she said from behind him. "Rose always seemed to get out of trouble by being charming and perfect. You wouldn't have caught her scrubbing floors or curtsying or ow!" A pause and a loud tearing sound. "Or this. Rose Tyler got into dignified trouble. You can turn back around now, by the way."

Jonas turned to face her. She looked a little disheveled, but was victoriously holding up a thin piece of wire. "Where did you get that?"

"See if it works first, because I'm going to feel really stupid if it doesn't."

Still confused, he turned back to the panel. The wire had just enough give for him to twist it around the pair of crystals, and was stiff enough to remain in place. He shot a glance up at the screen. "It worked!"

Martha broke into a relieved smile. "Well, at least it gave its life for a good cause," she sighed.

"What was it?" he asked.

"If you must know," she began, and Jonas thought she might be blushing. "That was the underwire out of my bra."

"Oh," Jonas said, aware that he was blushing now. "Oh, um, right. Okay. Thanks?"

Martha gave a fatalistic shrug. "Like I said, my life's been a bit short on dignity lately, but if this gives us that much longer not to be dead, then it works for me."

Once the life signs detector had been taken care of, it was time to find the Doctor and Jonas's team. All the talk of interrogation and execution made Martha nervous, but Jonas assured her that as long as they were still in the cells, they'd be alive. No reason not to hurry, of course, but a small comfort.

Traversing seven levels of the ship was proving to be more difficult than Jonas had predicted. Soldiers were everywhere, necessitating a lot of ducking and hiding, and the place was an absolute maze. In all her travels, Martha hadn't actually been inside all that many space ships, and none even close to this scale. (Was the TARDIS this big? Maybe it was, and the cozy feeling just made it seem smaller. This ship wasn't alive, but Martha felt like it would have been an angry ship if it was.) If they weren't just going around in circles, then this place could easily accommodate a small city.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" she asked softly. They had ducked into a storage compartment, waiting for another group of Jaffa to pass by. "It all looks the same." The black and gold was starting to look much less impressive.

"I'm sure," Jonas said. As if he could sense her unasked question, he continued. "The symbols on the wall aren't just decorative. Well, some of them are, but they also tell you which direction you're going and what floor you're on."

Martha giggled to herself as a thought occurred to her. Great big mythical deity space alien, and his ship was labeled up like an office building. Took a little bit of the mystique out of the thing.

They resumed their sneaking, armed this time with weapons Jonas had found in that last compartment. They were called zat guns, and Martha much preferred them to the staff weapon. For starters, they were much less damaging, with a setting for stunning instead of killing, and they were much easier to handle. (The staff weapon couldn't be used by either of them comfortably at this point—it was too heavy for Jonas's shoulder and too big for Martha's frame. They'd ended up leaving it in the compartment the guns had come from.)

"This is taking a really long time. What if Ba'al gets to them before we do?" Martha asked.

"Agreed. We need a new plan," Jonas said with a nod. He thought for a minute. "You hear that?" He gestured at the air. Martha heard nothing aside from the hum of the ship, but apparently it meant something to Jonas. "We're not far from the engine room. That's not a bad place for Plan B." The engine room, he explained as they moved on, by necessity would have access to all the ship's systems. Short of Ba'al's throne room, it was the most powerful room on the ship.

"You've got some sort of clever, computer-y plan in mind, don't you?" she asked. That was good, she thought. It seemed less dangerous, anyway.

He laughed at her description. "Yes. One clever, computer-y plan coming up."

Martha was a little concerned with how easily they got to the control area of the engine room. "Shouldn't there be guards or something?" she asked. "This place would seem to be pretty important."

"It is, and there are," Jonas said grimly. "They walk through on a pretty regular basis. I'm going to need you to keep an eye out for them."


He paused. "You're going to have to stun any of them that get too close. Can you do that?"

Martha took a deep breath and nodded. Hurting people wasn't what she'd gone to medical school for, but lives were at stake. And she reminded herself that she was only stunning them, not killing anyone. "Don't worry," she said steadily. "I've got your back."

Jonas nodded, and got to work on the control panel. He was trusting her. She could do this.

As if the universe felt the need to test her resolve, at that moment a Jaffa rounded the corner behind Jonas. Martha's breath caught in her throat, and she froze momentarily. Fortunately, the Jaffa seemed just as surprised to see them, giving Martha's brain the opportunity to click back into gear. She raised the weapon and fired, a crackling bolt of energy leaping through the air to land on the Jaffa's armour. He gave a startled yelp and collapsed to the floor.

Jonas had wisely stayed on the ground when he heard the weapon fire, spinning on his knees instead to see what was happening, which was just as well, as Martha would have hit him in the head if he'd been on his feet. He let out a low whistle. "Wow," he said, sounding impressed. "Good shot."

"Thanks," Martha rasped, before she remembered how to start breathing again.

Jonas lifted a concerned eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Martha nodded, her breathing evening out. "Yeah."

He gave her a nod and a quick pat on the shoulder, and Martha knew he understood. He was new at this whole combat thing too.

Jonas returned to his work, and she moved over to the fallen Jaffa. She bent to drag him out of sight, relieved to see that he really was still breathing. She kept a steady eye out, and a few minutes later, Jonas was beckoning her over to the panel.

"I think we're ready," he said.

Jonas waited until Martha had joined him. They should have several minutes clear now, thanks to Martha's steady hand. (He'd been impressed with her shooting—she'd obviously never done it before, and he knew only too well how much harder it was in real life.)

"Is that them?" she asked, looking at one of the video screens he'd pulled up.

"Yeah," he said. It was the view from the security camera in one of the cells. The resolution wasn't high enough to make out any details—although they didn't appear to be hurt—but he could tell it was the Colonel and Sam at least. "This is the only cell camera I could pull up," he continued, sensing her next question. "But the life signs say the Doctor is still there. I think he's in the next cell with Teal'c. I'm going to open up a channel so we can talk to them, open the cells, and use the cameras to guide them to a ring platform."

"You mentioned one of those earlier," Martha said. "Is that some kind of transport device?"

"Yes. We'll ring them down here," he said, pointing to a large circle set several feet away in the floor. "Then get out of here."

"Sounds good."

He pressed a button. "Colonel O'Neill?" he said tentatively at the computer. He relaxed a little bit when he didn't hear his own voice echoing back above them—he'd been mostly sure that he was broadcasting to just the cells, and not the whole ship.

He could see the Colonel tense in reaction on the screen, looking up toward the ceiling. "What? Who is that?" he hissed.

"Sir, it's Jonas. Are you guys alright?"

"Jonas?" He sounded surprised, and (was that wishful thinking?) a little relieved. "We're a little banged up but we're fine. Where are you?" he replied.

"We're in the engine room—" Jonas began.

"We?" O'Neill interrupted. "Who's with you?" What's going on?"

"It's a long story, sir, I'll explain later."

"Is the Doctor there with you? Is he okay?" Martha cut in, leaning toward the screen and sounding worried.

"Who is that?" the Colonel asked.

At the same moment Sam said, "Yeah, he's in the next cell."

"Brilliant!" Martha said, a wide grin splitting her face. "Tell him it's Martha—I'm with Jonas."

Jonas glanced nervously over his shoulder, wondering how long they had until the next Jaffa came by. "Sir, we really need to hurry," he said. He hit the button to slide open the door to their cell. "You need to go out and turn," he paused, consulting one of the other screens. "Turn left. That way looks clear. We won't be able to talk to you once you're out of the cell, but we'll be watching, and we're going to ring you out once you get to the platform at the end of the cell block."

He saw the colonel nod and flip a quick salute at the screen. A few seconds later, he and Sam had appeared in the corridor screen, accompanied by Teal'c and a man in a brown coat he assumed was the Doctor.

"Jonas?" said Martha urgently. "I don't know if I'm reading this layout right, but it looks like these guys are headed toward the cells." She pointed at one of the other screens.

Jonas hissed. "Yeah, they are." He thought quickly, then activated a set of controls locking down the hallway the Jaffa were in. "There goes our cover. This is going to get messy fast."

Martha nodded nervously. A second later, alarms started blaring above them. "Oh, bloody hell," she whispered, raising her gun again.

The steady vibration of the floor changed in pitch beneath them, and the engine room suddenly got a lot louder. "Oh crap!"


"The ship is powering up," Jonas shouted over the roar of the engines. "Ba'al knows they're out, and he's getting ready to take off so we won't have anywhere to go."

"What do we do?" Martha asked, her voice much more calm than the look in her eyes.

He looked back to the screens. SG-1 and the Doctor were running now, and they were nearly to the ring platform. "Watch for Jaffa!" he shouted. With one eye on his team, he began frantically pressing controls, trying to slow the power-up. It was no good. Ba'al had obviously guessed where they were and had locked the engine room out of essential functions. What were they going to do? If he lost the chance at SG-1 again (not to mention a time traveler!) Ba'al was going to be furious. From what he'd read of the Goa'uld (and seen of them so far), Jonas wouldn't have put it past him to take out the planet from orbit for revenge before flying away. They'd done Plan B, now what was Plan C?

"You'd better hurry," Martha shouted, and he heard the crackle of her zat gun firing. More Jaffa. Great.

He saw SG-1 had reached the platform and he activated the rings, sending them outside to the planet's surface. The engine room didn't seem like a good idea right now. Locked out of the machine, he yanked open all the crystal compartments he could see and shot them repeatedly with his zat. They smoked and crackled, and he really hoped he'd done the right thing. He joined Martha in firing at the Jaffa.

It was hard to tell over the whine of the engines, but Martha suddenly realized that the shooting had stopped. They seemed to have run out of Jaffa, though, she guessed, not for long.

She looked over at Jonas, standing by her side and breathing hard. "You're a pretty good shot too," she puffed, noticing her arm was shaking and quickly lowering it. "Good job it was your right shoulder that got shot," she added. It would seem he was left-handed, and that had probably just saved her life.

He laughed, the quick, relieved, I'm-kind-of-surprised-we're-still-alive sort of laugh Martha was quite familiar with herself. "Small blessings, I guess," he said. "We need to get out of here."

"Yeah," Martha agreed. "Time to run?" The clang of Jaffa boots were getting frighteningly close, coming from the direction of the ring platform Jonas had pointed out earlier. She didn't need to see the look on his face to know they didn't have time to get to it.

"Yep," Jonas agreed, and they took off in the opposite direction.

They ran flat out, back into the twisting maze of corridors. At least the running was something Martha was used to, although she was quickly becoming aware that this run was rather less…supported than she was used to, and it was starting to hurt. Really? She really must be getting jaded to this whole adventure thing if that was what she was thinking about while running for her life.

Rounding a corner, she saw the circular pattern of another ring platform in the floor where two corridors intersected. They skidded to a stop in front of a control panel, but before Jonas could finish entering the sequence, five Jaffa and a very sinister-looking man in flowing robes appeared around a corner. The man raised his hand, firing a burst of energy from a stone on his palm.

"Look out!" Martha cried, diving forward and catching Jonas in a rugby tackle, knocking him forward into the ring circle. The blast of energy missed by millimeters. Without thinking, Martha looked at the panel, saw one button she recognized and prayed it was the right one as she slammed her hand down on it and dove after Jonas. All five of the Jaffa raised their weapons, but with a sharp swish, five rings rose up out of the floor around them and the weapons fire pinged harmlessly off. Martha and Jonas were surrounded by a dazzling white light, and she felt herself fading away…

…And then she was laying in the dirt, half on top of Jonas and gasping for breath. "We made it?" Jonas coughed.

"I think so," Martha said. "Should we run? Are they going to follow us?" She really hoped the answer was no, because she was suddenly and inexplicably incredibly sore.

"No," Jonas said. She felt him shift, and she half-rolled so that her face was no longer buried in his stomach. He was pointing upwards, and she followed the line of his finger to see the lights on the underside of Ba'al's ship. "Those things are only supposed to be used when the ship is stationary, whether in orbit or on the ground. They're not going to ring down mid-flight. It's not a good idea."

"Isn't that what we just did?"

"Yes," he said, his arm flopping heavily back into the dirt. "And that is why everything hurts, and we've landed goodness knows where."

"Got it," Martha groaned. He was right, everything did hurt. "Better than being dead, though," she added.

"It is that," he agreed, and she heard the smile in his voice. They lay in silence for a few minutes, gathering the strength to sit up. "Not that this isn't nice," Jonas said finally. "But you're kind of on my shoulder, if you could…"

Martha quickly rolled around into a sitting position with a gasp. "Oh, I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

Gingerly, he sat up too. "I'll live."

Martha reached out, gently readjusting the sling. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Jonas smiled sheepishly. "Well, aside from the throbbing pain, I was actually pretty comfortable. I didn't want to move."

Martha stared at him for a long second, then they both burst out laughing at the same time. It was a long, slightly idiotic, immensely relieved laugh, and though she was still aching all over, Martha felt much better.

"By the way, thank you for saving me up there," Jonas said. "I wouldn't have been able to get out of the way in time. I owe you one."

"Well, you saved me first," Martha said. "I wouldn't have been able to take down all those Jaffa by myself."

"Yeah, but you…No, you know what, we start this and I don't think we're going to stop," Jonas said.

"Call it even?" Martha suggested.

"Deal." A far away thundering sound rolled through the air, and Martha spun around, looking for the source of the noise. "Hey, it worked!" Jonas said, sounding mildly surprised.

Martha followed his gaze upward and her eyes went wide. A magnificent fireball was billowing out of the spot she had last seen Ba'al's ship. "Did you do that?"

"I think so," he said. He sounded very pleased with himself. "I honestly didn't know if that would work."

"Why did you do that?" That seemed, well, sure, they'd all been trying to kill them, but to blow them all up just seemed…

He looked down and met her eyes seriously. "The Goa'uld have been trying to kill SG-1 for years, and the System Lords don't take defeat well. Once he got into orbit, Ba'al would have turned around and opened fire on the planet—killing innocent people to punish someone else is nothing to them, and he might have hoped to have gotten us all too," he explained.

His eyebrows knitted together, and Martha realized that he was worried about her reaction. He had done the right thing, though. As unfriendly as the local people had been, they hardly deserved to get blown up for it. "Well, then, I'm glad whatever you did worked," she said, taking his hand and squeezing it quickly.

They sat for a little while longer before deciding they really should get up and look for everyone else. Since the ship had still been on the ground when Jonas transported them out, he explained that it would have worked more smoothly and they would have gone to the ring platform in the village.

"You know I've been wondering," he began. The sun had risen just as the mother ship was blowing up, and they were picking their way carefully back toward the village. "I'd almost finished with the transport sequence when Ba'al showed up, but how did you know which button to press to get us out of there?"

Martha made a face. She was still kind of surprised that had worked. "It was that same button from the jail, with the lines and the triangle. It was the only one I recognized, and I hoped maybe 'open' could also mean 'go'."

Jonas grinned. "That is amazing, and completely right. You're good."

"You're not so bad yourself," she replied, smiling back. As they reached the top of a small hill, Martha looked down to see the village. It was much farther away than she would have liked. "Although, your transporting could use a little work."

"Okay, well, next time you get to work the controls while people are shooting at us. Here, stop for a second. You're taking these." He sat down on a stump and pulled his shoes off.

"No, I—" Martha started.

"I'm not asking," he said.

Martha sat down and pulled his boots over her feet. They were almost ridiculously large and felt awkward when she moved her feet, but oh! they were wonderful. "Thanks."

About half an hour later, they reached the edge of the village. People were already milling about, preparing for the day ahead, and the first few shops were opening their doors. Entirely of their own volition, Martha's feet stopped moving in front of a bakery. "I know they're all going to be wondering where we are," she said.

"But there's food in there," Jonas said, finishing her thought.

"A few more minutes isn't going to hurt anything, is it?" she asked. She wasn't entirely sure how long it had been since she'd eaten, but it was long enough.

"Since nobody's shooting at us, I'm going to say no," Jonas replied.

So it was that the Doctor and SG-1 rounded the corner a few minutes later to find them sitting outside the bakery, eating bread and drinking tea. "Martha!" the Doctor exclaimed, making her jump. His hair stood out on end the way it did when he'd been running his fingers through it a lot, and she felt a pang of guilt for making him worry. She just had time to set down her tea before he yanked her off the porch into a hug. "Are you alright, then? Where've you been?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. He looked a little worse for the wear himself—his suit was rumpled and torn in places and he had a split lip. "What about you? Are you okay"

He waved away her concern. "What, this? Just a little exchange of ideas with the Jaffa. I've had worse."

"And he kind of asked for that," the woman from the SG team said.

The Doctor cocked his head in agreement. "You may not have noticed," he answered Martha's questioning eyebrow. "But I don't always know when to shut up."

"Oh, trust me, I've noticed," she said, nudging him with her hip.

Jonas, meanwhile, had gotten to his feet to greet his team. A large, dark man (Teal'c, Martha thought) nodded his head serenely in Jonas's direction. "We are pleased to see you have survived, Jonas Quinn," he said in a deep, pleasantly rumbling voice.

Jonas broke into a relieved smile in return. "Thanks, Teal'c. I'm glad you guys made it too."

"It looks like we have you to thank for that," the woman said with a smile.

"What the hell happened to you?" the older man demanded. "And where have you been?"

Jonas opened his mouth to answer, but Martha cut in. "Oi, shut up, he just saved your lives, that's what happened," she said crossly. They'd both had a rough day, and she did not appreciate his tone. The man raised an eyebrow at her surprise, and the Doctor looked down at her with amusement. Jonas looked slightly alarmed. "Have a little gratitude. Just who are you anyway?"

Jonas gave an embarrassed cough. "That, um, that would be my commanding officer," he said.

"Oh," Martha said, stopping short. Oops. "Sorry." She paused. "Actually, you know what? No, I'm not. Jonas was brilliant. He saved a lot of people's lives today. I'm not apologizing."

The Colonel looked at Martha for a long moment, then nodded. "Yeah, he does that." He turned to Jonas. "Let me rephrase. Thank you. You did good. What happened to your arm, and why aren't you wearing any shoes?"

Martha laughed, and Jonas suppressed a chuckle as he began to explain. "Martha's wearing my shoes, but the rest of it is kind of a long story," he began.

They took it in turns to explain what had happened. When they were done, Martha couldn't help noticing that the Colonel was looking impressed in spite of himself. "So, pretty much just another day at the office, then, huh?" He clapped Jonas once on his good shoulder. "You're starting to get the hang of this thing," he said, not-quite-smiling, before turning away to gather up his things.

Jonas beamed, and Martha cocked an eyebrow. "I'm guessing that's high praise?" she asked.

"From Colonel O'Neill? Are you kidding?" he said. "This might just be the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me."

Martha smiled. "Looks like all your hard work is paying off," she said. "You'll probably be wanting these back," she added, handing him his shoes.

"Ready to go, Martha?" the Doctor leaned in to ask. SG-1 was packing up their gear, preparing to head back to the Gate.

"Just one second," she said, and the Doctor nodded, backing away a few paces. She turned back to Jonas. "Thanks for everything. You really were brilliant." She stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "So much more than not a Russian," she said as she pulled away.

Jonas blinked in surprise, a smile spreading across his lips, and she turned to go. "Wait, Martha!"

She turned back to face him. "Yeah?"

"What you said to me about not giving up—I won't, but…" He lowered his voice. "But maybe it's something you should think about."

"What?" Think about what…oh. "You mean leave the Doctor? I couldn't do that," she protested.

"Maybe I'm reading it wrong," Jonas hurried to say. "And if you like where you are, then that's great." He shot a quick look over his shoulder at SG-1. "We all need some place where we belong. But you are, I mean, I would be dead if it wasn't for you—probably more than once—and even if this wasn't the sort of thing you did all the time, you'd still be pretty incredible. You're a hell of a lot better than second-best, and I'd hate to see you get stuck thinking that's all you are."

Martha blinked, swallowing down a lump in her throat. It always had to be the guys in different timelines, didn't it? "Thank you," she said, feeling a little flustered and unsure of what to say beyond that. She knew she was important to the Doctor, but it had been a while since she had felt like she'd mattered as much as all that. "You might be right," she said at last. "It's something to think about anyway."

This time, it was Jonas who leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Get out there and save the world," he said with a grin.

"Isn't that your job?" she teased. "When I get back to 2007, I expect everything to still be in one piece."

"I'll keep an eye on it 'til you get back," he replied. "Thanks again."

"Thank you," she said. She turned to go, pausing as she reached a corner to turn around and give a final wave. Jonas smiled and waved back, then picked up his boots and turned away.

"So," the Doctor said as they made their way back to the TARDIS. "Looks like you saved the day, hey? Well done there," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "And we got to meet SG-1, how cool is that?"

"I don't know, they seemed nice enough," she said.

"Hmm? Oh, that's right, they're still a secret in your time. Never mind, then. You'll think it's cool one day. Anyway, I've been thinking, and I think I figured out what's wrong with the TARDIS."


"She's just running low on energy," he declared. "Makes her grumpy. Fortunately, I know of a rift in Cardiff that's got just the kind of energy she likes."

"Right, well, before we make any pit stops, I'd like a shower. And breakfast. You didn't let me finish mine," she reminded him, mostly in jest.

"Ooh, yes, breakfast! I like breakfast. What shall we have?"