Smith and Jones With Rose
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Disclaimer: Eh, we have no idea how this is gonna work.
YellowRose AKA David Tennant Lover – May the Time Lord be with you
Hubert24601 AKA Jack-Flash-Swooner – and may the Sonic Screwdriver enlighten you
And keep you warm. Let its buzz surround you, and may its GLOW never DIE
Forever and ever, amen.
(The 'May the Time Lord be with you' is created by David-Tennant-Lover, and the rest is mine – so stealers beware.)
Once more, Hubert24601 – AKA Jack-Flash-Swooner – and YellowRose – AKA David-Tennant-Lover solemnly vow to update Smith And Jones With Rose as often as possible through rain, sleet, snow or hail, or so help us, we will have to wear a pail.
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Martha Jones hurried towards the hospital, talking to each of her family members in turn on her razor mobile. "You're up early! What's happening? How do I do that?" Her phone beeped, interrupting her conversation with her sister. "Hold on, that's Leo. Call you back." She answered the call. "Yeah, but why do I have to tell them? Why can't you?" Her phone rings again. "Hold on, that's Mum. Call you back." She answered this call, a faint smile on her face. "Mum, it's a party, I can't stop Dad from bringing his girlfriend!" It rung again. "Hold on, that's Dad. I'll call you back!" She answered this call with a sigh. "I know, but what's it gonna look like for Mum, if you're standing there with Annalise?" After a few more words, Martha shut her mobile and continued to walk.
Suddenly a man stepped out in front of her, gave her an absurd smile and untied his tie, then went very suddenly, "Like so." He took it off. "See?" Then he vanished.
Martha stared after him in puzzlement for a moment, then shrugged as thunder sounded overhead. As she moved into the locker room to retrieve her medical coat and put away personal belongings, she received a shock from her locker door. She drew back, startled – then shut the door and continued on her way.
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A blonde girl was also walking towards the hospital, a sure, steady, walk. She was dressed completely in leather, and received a lot of wolf whistles from people around her, but she ignored them. Finally arriving at the hotel, she opened the door and casually looked around. Right at the corner was a supply cupboard. Crouching so the secretary (if they had one) couldn't see her, she quickly tucked around the wall, athletic and quiet. She opened the door a tad, and then slowly slipped inside, her body one fluid motion.
A few moments later and she opened the door again, though when she stepped out she was wearing long, black pants, a medical coat, a pocket protector with pens, a unique wrist watch and a badge around her neck, her long, golden hair done up becomingly.
She left her bag in the supply closet and slid back along the wall, though this time towards the patients' rooms. She stood up to walk fully as another staff member scooted past, not paying much attention but to give her a smile that she returned. She continued down the corridor, her stride firm and sure once more. She knew exactly where he was.
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Martha Jones and several of the other medical students were at a patient's bedside, as Mr Stoker, the doctor who was in charge, bombarded them with questions.
"Pulse is slightly thready," he murmured, reaching out to swiftly take Florence Finnegan's palm. "Any ideas, Morgenstern?"
The young medical student hesitated before replying. "Dizziness can be a sign of… early diabetes."
"Hardly early onset – if you'll forgive me, Miss Finnegan. Any more ideas?"
Swales remarked, "Um… could recommend a CT scan."
Doctor Stoker barely moved a muscle. "And spend all our money! Jones?"
Martha was startled out of her reverie. "We could take bloods and check for Meniere's disease."
"Or," said Stoker, "we could simply ask the patient. What did you have for dinner last night?" The last was to Miss Finnegan, though everyone could tell that he wanted to ask that to the medical students too. "Food affects the brain!" he would say, whenever the subject came up.
"Salad," replied Florence.
"And the night before?" asked Doctor Stoker, a wise note appearing in his tone.
"And salad every night for the past week, contrary to my instructions! Salt deficiency, that's what. Simple, honest salt." The doctor trotted out of the room still rambling on about salt and the medical students obediently followed. They made their way into another room to see the Doctor sitting propped up in bed in his old jim jams.
Suddenly, another person walked into the room. It was the long blonde haired girl. She approached the doctor and medical students with a smile and an outstretched hand. "Hello," she said in a pleasant voice. "I'm Doctor Lockheart, Mr. Smith's personal doctor."
Martha Jones turned just in time to see Mr. Smith' s eyes bulge and a giant grin spread across his countenance as his entire face lighted up. Then, as if sensing Martha was looking at him, his grin faded and eyes returned to normal, leaving a sickly pale looking man staring at his doctor in earnest.
Doctor Lockheart shook Doctor Stoker's hand before going up to Mr. Smith. "Ah, John Smith." Her eyes crinkled with laughter though her mouth remained firm in a line and voice serious. "How are we feeling today?" She offered him her hand too, and John Smith grabbed it and gave it such a squeeze that she though her bones would crack.
"Much better," he replied with a renewed twinkle in his eye – a twinkle that certainly hadn't been there before.
Doctor Lockheart turned back to Stoker, who was looking expectantly on. "Now, as I see, you are going round with your students, please don't mind me. I won't interrupt." Instead she let go of Mr Smith's hand – but hers was caught still in his. She looked him in the face and pale, brown, alive eyes stared back at her.
"Not gonna leave, are you?" he asked her, suddenly forlorn. His eyes pleaded with her.
Are you kidding?? "No, Mr. Smith, I'm not going to leave – I'm going to get a chair if you'll let go of my hand," she teased gently, smiling at him.
Mr. Smith blinked and Martha, who was looking at him, saw him actually blush. Doctor Lockheart's hand was released, and the doctor bent forward and gave Mr. Smith a little subtle squeeze on the shoulder before stepping across the room and sitting down in a chair. Mr. Smith suddenly called out faintly and frantically before Doctor Stoker and his students could continue, "Doctor Lockheart!"
The doctor hurried to his side. "Yes, Mr. Smith? Are you all right?" Her voice was concerned and slightly anxious. Mr. Smith grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly, not daring to let go.
"Stay…" His voice was a whisper, but she heard and understood.
"All right." He let her go this time and the doctor slowly walked over, grabbed her chair, walked back and plunked it down beside him. "Now, Mr. Smith. Allow these people to ask questions, whatever they want. Answer them truthfully…" she told him as if speaking to a little child.
Mr. Smith gave Doctor Lockheart a look that clearly said, "I'm not a complete madman."
The doctor allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she turned to Doctor Stoker who was waiting patiently. She gave him a small nod.
"Now then, Mr. Smith – and Doctor Lockheart – a very good morning to you. How are you today?" The last he addressed to John Smith.
"Aw, not so bad, still a bit, you know. Blah." He made a face.
"John Smith," said Stoker, reading, "admitted yesterday with severe abdominal pains."
To those sharp enough to see it, Doctor Lockheart shot Mr. Smith a look that quickly became a smirk.
"Jones, why don't you see what you can find? Amaze me," continued Stoker.
Martha looked at the invalid carefully, and realized that it was the same man who took off his tie in front of her that morning. "That wasn't very clever, running around outside, was it?"
Doctor Lockheart threw him another look, eyebrows raised. John Smith refused to look at her. Instead he looked innocently inquisitively at Martha. "Sorry?"
"On Chancery Street this morning," reminded Martha, "you came up to me and took your tie off."
"Really?" He was still innocent. "What did I do that for?"
"I don't know – you just did!" answered Martha, as equally confused as he appeared to be.
"Not me, I was here. Ask the nurses – ask Miss Lockheart over here." He emphasized the 'miss'. He threw her an innocent expression when the latter looked over at him, one eyebrow raised.
"Well, that's weird," said Martha with a slight frown. It didn't make any sense. "It looked like you. Have you got a brother?"
"No," said John, like a lonely cute child, "Not any more. Just me." He made a little adorable pout.
Though Doctor Stoker seemed to make time for Doctor Lockheart, he obviously didn't have the patience for Jones. "As time passes and I grow ever more infirm and weary, Miss Jones."
Martha jerked. "Sorry, right." She lowered the stethoscope to Smith's chest, then frowned, puzzled. She moved it to the other side, and looked up at Doctor Lockheart and John Smith. The doctor, frozen, stared at Martha, but Smith winked her.
Stoker interrupted them. "I weep for further generations. Are you having trouble locating the heart, Miss Jones?" There was a bout of snickers from the rest of the medical students.
"Um, I don't know." She shrugged, and innocently smiled, straightening. "Stomach cramps?" she suggested.
"That is a symptom, not a diagnosis. And you rather failed basic techniques by not consulting first with the patient's chart." Stoker picked up the chart, but when he received an electric shock, dropped it, startled.
"That happened to me this morning," imputed Martha.
"I had the same thing on the door handle," said Morgenstern.
"And me, on the lift," mentioned Swales.
"That's only to be expected," declared Stoker firmly. "There's a thunderstorm moving in and lightning is a form of static electricity as it was first proven by – anyone?"
"Benjamin Franklin!" said Smith, listening intently to the conversation.
Doctor Lockheart nudged him in the ribs subtly. "Show off," she hissed.
Stoker looked back at him, startled for a minute. "Correct!"
But Smith wasn't finished. He smiled at Lockheart before continuing in an absent tone and faraway look, "My mate Ben, that was a day and a half. I got rope burns off that kite, and then I got soaked…"
Stoker stared at him for a minute. "Quite…"
"And then I got electrocuted!"
"Moving on." He moved closer to Doctor Lockheart and whispered, "I think perhaps a visit from psychiatric – now next we have…" His voice faded as he and the troupe of medical students moved on.
Suddenly John Smith whirled around to Doctor Lockheart and captured her in a tight embrace. Lockheart giggled a bit and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Hey, Doctor," she murmured.
"Rose! How did you… how?" He was lost for words. He simply held her, hugging her tightly into his chest.
"You know me," she whispered back. "I'd do anything to get back."
The Doctor smiled into her hair as he kissed the top of her head. "So I'm not that important, eh?" Rose jerked up and her head knocked his face hard. "Ow!"
"Sorry," she replied, grinning. "That comment took me by surprise, that's all. How could you say that? Remember when I told you on the beach that I love you?"
"You mean you still do?" teased the Doctor, and rightfully deserved the light slap he got. "Ow!"
"You deserved it."
"True," conceded the Doctor with a grin. "Mmm…" He buried his face in her hair as she sank back against his chest. "Still my Rosebud."
Rose gave a bubbly laugh. "You're still my Doctor."
"Which I thought was quite ironic considering the way you babied me today," inserted the Doctor, cradling her. "We need to get going." He grabbed his suit from the floor, then started fiddling and pushing pockets to grab his Sonic Screwdriver and Psychic paper – just in case.
"Blue suit?" asked Rose, eying it and biting her lip.
Rose shrugged. "Brown suited you. It may just have to grow on me if you're considering wearing this all the time."
"How about I keep the trench coat?"
"Ideal." Rose hesitated – She reached up, took hold of his chin, and when he didn't stop searching his pockets, she gently, soothingly kissed him. This stopped his movements very quickly. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to his chest. The gentle, small kiss exploded inside of him, sending tingling warmth all the way to his toes. Finally Rose couldn't breathe. She let go suddenly and gazed into the Doctor's eyes.
"That was… fantastic," said the Doctor lamely after a moment, for lack of a better word.
Rose chuckled and slowly stroked his cheek. "Your hair's worse," she whispered with a grin.
"I think you're responsible for that," murmured the Doctor as he drew her close and kissed her again. She tasted of honey and berries. "Mm, whatever you had for breakfast today sure tastes great."
Rose suddenly tore her mouth away from his and burst into laughter.
"What?" asked the Doctor, grinning innocently into her eyes.
"Oh, Doctor… I can't believe you just said that!" She continued to laugh until the Doctor nudged her.
"Come on, Rosebud! We have to save the world!" With that the Doctor leaped out of bed with renewed vigour, grabbed his dressing gown and tied it around him.
Rose laughed at him. "You still have Harold's dressing gown and jim jams?"
"Well, they're mine now, aren't they?" He offered his elbow and flashed his cheeky grin.
The pair stealthily slid out the door and into the corridor, arm through arm and hand in hand.
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Whilst the Doctor and Rose were exploring, Martha Jones and Swales were in a kitchenette preparing lunch. Martha was busy chatting once more to her sister on her mobile.
"No, listen," said Martha, "I've worked out a plan." She grinned. "We tell Annalise that the buffet tonight is one hundred percent carbohydrate, and she won't turn up."
A few blocks away, Martha's sister Tish was walking down a street talking to her on her own mobile. "I wish you'd take this seriously. That's our inheritance she's spending – on a fake tan! Tell you what, I'm not far away, I'll drop by for a sandwich and we can draw up a plan."
Martha stared out the window at the hospital - it was pouring. "In this weather?" she asked, disbelievingly. "It's pouring down."
"It's not raining here." Tish rounded a corner and saw the hospital where Martha worked at. It had a giant, big rain cloud over it. "That's weird –" She said into the phone, "It's sitting right on top of you. I can see it, but it's dry where I am.
"Well, you just got lucky," said Martha.
Swales moved about the kitchen with a can of coffee.
"No," replied Tish, disbelief now apparent in her voice, "but it's like the cartoons, you know, when a man's got a cloud over his head."
Martha ignored the statement. "But listen, I tell you what we'll do – " She paused when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Two somethings. The Doctor and Rose both peeked their heads in, then moved on down the corridor. Martha stared at them for a minute. She shook it off and spoke into the phone. "We tell Dad and Annalise to get there early, for about 7:30, for Leo to do his birthday stuff. We tell Mum to come about 8:30 or nine, and that gives me time to have a word with Annalise, and –"
Swales suddenly touched Martha's arm, and she turned to the girl. "What?" she asked.
"It's only rain," replied Martha with a little scoff laugh, not bothering to turn around to look out the window.
"Martha!" said Tish into her mobile. "Have you seen the rain?"
"Why's everyone fussing about rain?" asked Martha, getting annoyed. She still hadn't turned around.
Swales looked terrified. "It's going up."
Tish answered at the same time, "The rain is going up."
So Martha looked. And indeed, the rain was going up. Then the building began to shake…