She Smiled Back
Missing Scene from Smith and Jones, MAJOR Spoilers, don't read if you haven't seen.
A/N - I wrote this on a whim. I absolutely adored this episode and there was the perfect gap to fit this into the chronology, so I decided to write it. My first Season 3 canon-based fic. Enjoy!
He caught her glance from across the street, amidst all the bustle and fussing of the paramedics and worried family members, as he walked towards the TARDIS. She had smiled, briefly, before her mate had distracted her, and he had smiled back. Martha Jones. He'd only known her for a day, and she'd saved his life.
Not bad for a human. Rose had done the same.
In return he had saved hers, along with the rest of humanity, again. They were even.
The gravel on the sidewalk pinched his bare feet, reminding him of all the aches and pains in his body. He'd done so much in so little time - racing through hospital corridors, absorbing who-knows-how-much x-radiation (and loosing his shoes in the process), getting the fluids sucked right out of his veins, and his chest still ached from Martha's compressions as she performed CPR. Right now, he just wanted to fly off, park the TARDIS in orbit around some uninhabited world, and relax.
Build a new sonic screwdriver.
He cringed at that. This time there had been no alien fault that his sonic screwdriver had been roasted and toasted. He was the one who'd jammed it into the radiation machine. He had no one to blame for it's destruction except himself.
As the hum of dematerialisation faded and he was safely floating in the Vortex, he set off through the corridors. First things first, he needed to change. The floor grating wasn't best for bare feet. And his suit smelled like Judoon. Not the most pleasant of scents, really; it reminded him of a Roman bathhouse.
As he turned the corner, he paused, and took a step backwards, coming to a stop. The door to Rose's room was slightly ajar. He pushed it open quietly, and cast his gaze around the chamber. It was untouched, still littered with bits and pieces of her life, making it just a little more then just another room in the ship. Phantoms still lingered on the air. And his thoughts were drawn back to Martha.
He didn't need anyone. He'd considered it, with Donna, but she had turned him down. She was right to - he was only looking for someone to fill the emptiness of the ship.
Shaking the notion from his mind, he headed to the lab. His new screwdriver needed building.
But even as he worked, his mind kept flickering back to the young medical student. She had accepted aliens so readily. Hadn't flipped out when she learned he wasn't entirely human. Used her head in a crisis, stalled the Judoon. Well, granted, he helped her in that aspect. A brisk but thorough kiss was just enough time to transfer his dna onto her to distract the Judoon Platoon Leader.
But she had been brave about it, he had to admit.
A small, resigned laugh escaped his lips, barely a breath of a chuckle. He'd forgotten, in all the excitement. She'd given him a clue, right at the beginning, and he'd nearly pushed it aside.
"That wasn't very clever running around outside, was it?" she'd admonished him, laying in that hospital bed. "Chancellor Street, this morning, you came up to me and took your tie off."
He'd looked at her like she was completely daft. But now he'd finally gotten it. He'd have to go back.
He slid his new sonic screwdriver into the inner pocket of his jacket, and set the coordinates for Earth. Evening of the same day, a nice little back alley behind the place where Martha had said she was throwing her brother's party. The night air was cool and crisp, tasting of the lingering static the Judoon's H2O-scoop storm had given off. He smiled.
The least he could do was thank her. One trip, off into time and space.
He stopped at the end of the alley, and leaned against the brickwork, watching the squabble. And as her family stormed off, she caught his glance, and he smiled.
And she smiled back.