A/N: Ok, this is pure unadulterated fluff. Never really done Ten/Martha fluff before because I'm not entirely sure that Martha is that much of a 'fluffy' person, but the idea wouldn't go away and so I wrote it. I'm not entirely sure if I like it or not, but I don't think there's much else I can do with it. Also, I've written two other fics this weekend (one of them horrendously long, it's actually a record for one of my one shots. Ridiculous, honestly, it is) but again they're not what I usually write so I've had some reservations about posting them. I dunno, keep an eye out though cos I probably will end up posting them some time this week. Probably tomorrow actually, as I have a long overdue chapter for my HP fic. Anyway, I'll stop talking, you'll have to excuse me, it's 3am and I'm only awake cos I don't much fancy the idea of falling asleep in an empty house.
He'd been on his way to the kitchen when he'd heard it.
She didn't have the most beautiful voice in the universe, far from it in fact. To be fair, though, he'd heard all the greats at one time or another, so everyone else he heard singing was no comparison, but she could hold a tune, didn't struggle with it. He recognised the song, but it had been slowed down, the words lingering for a little longer on the tip of her tongue, the melody drawn out and calm.
He leaned his head against the wall of the corridor and listened to her, just out of sight. When she had finished he popped his head around the door and said, "Who sang that version?"
Martha jumped about a foot into the air, the folded clothes in her arms which she hadn't yet put into her drawers dropping to the floor, ending up in a crumpled heap. She turned around, breathing deeply, hand resting lightly over her heart. "How many times do I have to tell you? Don't scare me like that!" He stepped fully into the room in all his geek-chic glory. It wasn't often that Martha saw him with his jacket off. He was devoid of it now, shirt untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie loosened and top button undone. She managed to rip her attention away from his torso and directed it instead at his face as he began talking.
"Oh come off it Martha, you've faced much scarier things than me! What about those Weeping Angels? I can't get rid of the nightmares actually. Shan't look at another statue in the same way again. Threw that bust of Augustus out of an airlock cos it gave me the creeps so much." Martha smiled and squatted down to pick up the clothes that she had dropped a minute or so earlier. "So come on then, who sang that version? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Cyndi Lauper as much as the next man-"
"Which isn't all that much," Martha interrupted.
"Well exactly. But I liked that version. Spill the beans Miss Jones."
"Eva Cassidy." He let out an 'aah' of understanding and Martha stood up, placing her slightly creased clothes into the open drawer. "Mum used to play her songs to me when I was little," she smiled nostalgically and shut the drawer.
"Come on, I was gonna make some tea." He held out his hand to her and she accepted it.
"Makes a change," she commented as they left the room.
"First time for everything."
Her feet were aching, the muscles in her legs throbbing. She collapsed onto her bed and let out a sigh. Too much running, she had decided. They'd hardly stopped for breath the entire time. It could only have been once, maybe twice, that the Doctor had pulled her into an alcove, holding her still whilst their pursuers ran straight past them, not noticing the two humans hiding just feet away from them. That was the only time they'd stayed still. The rest of it was running, running, and more running. She was quite sure she could give Paula Radcliffe a run for her money, pardon the pun, of course.
There was a knock at the door and a moment later the Doctor had opened it slightly. "Can I come in?" he asked through the gap.
"Yeah," Martha replied. He opened the door fully and Martha was pleased to see two mugs in his hand.
"I come bearing tea," he said, sitting down on her bed and handing her the turquoise mug. She took a sip from it and pulled a face. "What?"
"This is yours," she told him, swapping their mugs and taking a sip from the orange mug and sighing. "See? Yours has far too much sugar in. And yet you manage to keep your teeth all white and shiny. Theoretically, you should have no teeth left at all."
"I floss!" he told her, grinning at her over the rim of his mug, taking a sip before continuing. "Apparently, bloke-wise, that's up there with saving your life." Martha laughed. She knew who had said that, and she didn't mind that the Doctor had brought her up again. She was past her insecurities regarding Rose, helped along by the fact that the Doctor was past his defensiveness whenever he let slip something about her. They drank their tea in silence for a while, Martha wiggling her toes absentmindedly while the Doctor watched her curl and uncurl them. He drained the last of his tea and set his mug down on the bedside table.
"Drink up, Martha," he said. Her toes stopped wiggling and she looked at him.
"Are we going somewhere?"
"My feet are hurting though, and we've just run for miles, can we go later?"
"You don't need to run for this. And tomorrow I'm taking you to get some sensible shoes for running in. They've got a huge range on Drammavine. Fancy it?"
"What, the no running or the shoe shopping?"
"Yeah," the Doctor smiled and got off the bed.
"Control room in half an hour?" Martha nodded and the Doctor walked to the door.
"Doctor!" he turned around. "Where are we going?" He tapped the end of his nose secretively and Martha sighed. "Alright then. What should I wear so I don't stick out like a sore thumb?"
"Oh don't worry; it's not too far from home. Just...something nice." He left the room and shut the door behind him.
"Something nice?" Martha whispered after a moment or two. She shrugged and downed the last of her tea, setting her empty mug next to the Doctor's before getting up and disappearing into her bathroom.
The Doctor smiled as she appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a knee length aqua coloured dress which flowed around her as she walked. "Very nice," the Doctor said quietly, and Martha smiled at him. He was wearing the black suit that he had worn when they had witnessed Lazarus' horrifying experiment. The Bond suit. Minus the bow tie though. His white shirt was open at the top to give the outfit a more casual look. "Miss Jones?" he held his arm out to her when she reached him and she linked hers through his.
They stepped out onto a quiet street, lit by the golden glow of the street lights. "Earth then?" Martha commented.
"Yes," the Doctor answered, without elaborating. Martha realised she wasn't going to get any other information from him and settled for walking along the slightly uneven pavement with him.
Their destination ended up being a small smoky club which was filled with well dressed people around the age of thirty, and Martha frowned at the Doctor. "What are we-" he put a finger to his lips and made a ssh-ing noise and Martha immediately fell silent. "Who's listening?" she asked quietly, and he smiled at her fondly.
"No one." He took her by the hand and led her over to a small round table. He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down in it, confused at this treatment. The Doctor never pulled out chairs for her. He'd hold a door open, let her go through first, but they were manners, which, admittedly, the Doctor had very few of. She was quite sure that none of his small collection of gentlemanly gestures involved pulling out chairs for her.
Her attention was drawn to the stage at the front of the room, where a blonde woman sat with a guitar. She began plucking at the strings and Martha's mouth fell open.
"I did," he whispered in response. "I thought you deserved a break." He turned to look at her and was delighted to see that she was smiling in disbelief. She leaned over so she could whisper in his ear.
She placed a soft kiss on his cheek and let her attention fall back onto the woman on stage singing.
"And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before."
His hand found hers under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze.