A/N: Yeah, kinda, not sure, you tell me if it's good. And check out the other two I've posted today, and please accept my apologises for bombarding you with rubbish/magnificence, whichever you decide is an appropriate description. Early hours writing can either be a masterpiece or a dog's dinner, I'm gonna be optimistic and hold out for the first one, so let us know. Enjoy!
"What can I do Martha? I don't know what else I can do!"
"You can get out, for a start," she told him, determined to stay angry, focussed, not even considering thinking about what he'd done. Not enough for it to upset her.
"So this is it then?" he seemed surprised at her decision. What did he expect?
"Of course it is," Martha told him, looking at him as though he were stupid. Which, she reminded herself, he was. "I feel quite sorry for Danielle really. Cos she's the one you'll be going to. She'll have to put up with you from now until when you managed to find your own place to live. Still, can't say she doesn't deserve it."
"You've put up with me long enough," Ryan replied.
"More fool me, now out." He looked like he was about to say something else, but he bit it back, nodded, and left the flat. Martha shut the door behind him before walking over to the sofa and sinking down into it. Her eyes felt prickly, hot, watery. She sucked her cheek in and clamped her back teeth down on it, determined to keep herself from crying.
A shaky hand reached for the phone. Speed dial one. Ryan had hated that. Still, her flat, her phone, her rules.
"Bit of a bad time I'm afraid," he muttered quickly. Laser shots in the distance, heavy breathing, (not the dodgy kind, the running for your life kind) and the sound of plimsolls slapping on a linoleum floor. "Into the Tardis!" he yelled, and Martha pulled the phone away from her ear a little too late. He'd already inflicted irreparable damage upon her eardrum. "Hold on," his voice was low again, a door slammed and she heard him breathe a sigh of relief. "Two seconds," and then louder again "Gemma, hold this." Martha could tell he'd chucked the phone at Gemma, and judging by the loud clang which shortly followed, she'd failed to catch it. Martha smiled, trying not to feel too pleased that her own catching skills were much better than Gemma's. Still, she wouldn't judge yet. As long as she was more amiable than Amy had been, then things would be ok.
Amy had sworn each time that hanging up on Martha had been an accident. Lack of signal. Out of range, something like that, but Martha knew better, and so did the Doctor, who pretty soon made some excuse about having to go somewhere that blondes weren't allowed to go.
He was awful, of course, but his standards had become so lax since she'd gone that she didn't really feel sorry for the girls.
There was the sound of whirring and Martha grinned. She did miss that noise.
"So what can I do for you, my lovely doctor?" she smiled, despite the sick feeling in her stomach. He was good, but he couldn't make her forget all her troubles just like that.
She'd need him smile at her for that to happen.
"I need a break," she told him, and could tell by the background noise that he was wandering off, up the stairs, down the corridor, turn left at the archway that made your hair stand on end, (she heard him shudder) carry on past the non-fiction library, following it round until you notice a patch of wall that doesn't quite match. The colours a little darker, the circular pattern slightly misaligned. Intentional of course, so even when ill or drunk or both, one could find it.
She heard him flop down onto his bed and let out a sigh as his back cracked upon impact with the soft mattress. A bit of noise as he arranged his head against the pillows properly and then silence. "A break from what?"
"Everything. Earth. People. Ryan and Danielle. She's blonde, you know."
"No, I'm fine, well, I'm not, but I will be. I just need to get out. I wouldn't ask but...I just need to see you." She sighed and felt embarrassed as a tear trickled down her cheek. He couldn't see but she knew he'd be able to tell. He always could.
"Right then!" he said cheerfully, sparing her the 'oh don't, he's not worth it' speech, that in itself making her feel ten times better. "You'll want a coat, and a hat, and a scarf. And some nice thick socks. Basically, you'll want to wrap up warm." Martha felt a broad smile plaster itself all over her face.
"Where are we going?" she asked excitedly.
"You'll have to wait and see, Martha Jones! Time please?" she told him, flung a 'see you in a sec' his way and then put the phone down, rushing into her bedroom to put her coat on, matching scarf and mittens feeling stiflingly warm in the July weather.
"Is it that Martha girl?" Gemma had her arms folded and was looking at the Doctor furiously. "It is, isn't it? She just calls you up and you go running, quick as you can, never mind the rest of us, because we're nothing compared to her. Not to you, anyway." The Doctor stared at the ceiling tiredly. He didn't have time for this. Well, he did, but he didn't want to spend the next half an hour rowing with the brunette in front of him. Not when he could be spending time with Martha.
"Just forget it," Gemma said angrily. "Don't bother coming back." He hadn't actually intended to, but still, if it made her happy to think he had...
One slam of the door later and the Doctor smiled grimly, before turning to the Tardis control panel and setting the co-ordinates.
Getting rid of her had been pretty easy.
If only Amy had been angry enough to walk out on him too...
The door of the flat burst open and Ryan walked in, in all his scruffy glory. "Just so you know-" he began, but stopped when Martha appeared from her bedroom, thick navy coat buttoned up with the belt tied round her waist, sea green scarf wrapped around her neck possibly one too many times, arms folded with matching mittens at the end of them, and her navy beret jammed on her head at a jaunty and rather fetching angle, even if she did say so herself. "Where are you going, dressed like that?" he asked, looking her up and down.
"On holiday," Martha said defiantly. "And I won't tell you again, out." He followed orders, which was lucky, because he'd only just got onto the street outside when she heard a wailing noise. Her favourite noise.
He'd only just opened the door when he found a warm bundle in his arms, holding onto him tightly, smiling into his suit, her 'I missed you's mixing with his own. They laughed and he stood aside so she could step into the Tardis properly, closing the door behind her. "Hello, you," she said happily to the machine. "So spill the beans," she turned to face the Doctor. "Where are we going?" The Doctor smiled to himself as he walked around the controls, flicking things into place, feeling so amazingly glad that he had Martha back on board, if only for a short while.
It seemed wrong, just to take the first girl he came across onto the Tardis for a couple of weeks, dumping them back on Earth as soon as his favourite medical-student-now-doctor called, but he couldn't help himself. He didn't want to get anyone on board full-time because he knew anyone who he'd want full-time he wouldn't want to upset by running to Martha.
It made sense in his head, at least, and besides, Martha was worth the constant swapping of companions.
The Tardis fell silent and he looked up at Martha, who looked back at him, her eyes showing her excitement at the prospect of their forthcoming adventure. He grinned, and she reciprocated, her eyes following him as he walked around the console towards her, pausing to grab his coat from the back of the chair, putting it on quickly, white teeth still beaming in her direction.
Who was this Ryan bloke who she should have been thinking about? Her brain must have failed because she had no idea.
He took her mitten-clad hand in his own and led her to the door of the Tardis, throwing it open and guiding her outside.
The sun was setting behind the mountains, the sky glowing a warm orange. The snow under her feet compacted as she stepped onto it, making the sound that only untouched snow could. It was white, shimmering, as though there were diamonds scattered all over it. There was a massive expanse of ice in front of them, reflecting all the colours from the sunset; oranges, pinks, reds, yellows, all gleaming back at her.
"This is Bemb'hai," the Doctor told her quietly. "It means 'Secluded One'. It's the least busy of all the lakes. The Mineral Lakes," he felt proud at the look of recognition on her face. It had only been mentioned in passing but she still remembered it. "And all around you," he said, admiring the scenery, "all around you is Koor'han."
"It's beautiful," she breathed, the words frosting in the air in front of her.
"Yep," he replied, and he began to walk towards a small wooden shack about a hundred yards away.
Five minutes later and they were skating around on the lake, racing each other, laughing as they stumbled, each trying to outdo the other with their fancy footwork. Fair enough, he had about nine hundred years of experience on her, but he argued that after nine hundred years his body was getting tired. He'd not brought that point up again after the look she gave him.
Once night had fallen, and it was getting harder and harder to see each other, they skated back to the edge of the lake, before walking over to the shack (which was an adventure in itself, balancing precariously on their skate blades and almost breaking their ankles multiple times) to get their own shoes back.
"You see that star there?" he was pointing towards a solitary shining dot in the velvety black sky. Martha nodded, leaning back, arms stretched out behind her, weight resting on her palms. "That's the sun that you almost got sucked into." Martha laughed softly. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. In fact it had only been two years, and years went quite quickly when you were making diagnoses and saving lives each day. Granted, the days themselves seemed to last forever, but she'd wake up one morning and it'd be gloriously sunny, kids playing on the street and making the most of their summer holidays, then she'd wake up the next day to find people with their heads bowed against the frosty wind, bags of presents that needed wrapping in some sort of reindeer-covered paper, clutched in their hands. She'd thought at first that the Doctor had picked her up in her sleep and set her back down months later, still sleeping. But then she'd realise that the days had really been lived through. Mrs Jefferson, for example, she'd been diagnosed, treated, treated some more and had died in that time. Days like that made her wonder if it was worth it. But then she saw little Keeley Stanton walking towards her, grinning madly as her legs worked, pushing along her now vacated wheelchair in front of her, little brother sitting in it instead, whooping as he raced down the corridor. That was the sort of thing that made it worth it. The miracles, they made it worth it. And she was fairly sure the miracles outweighed the failures. She shivered slightly. Ugly word, 'failures'.
He knew she'd stopped listening. He kept talking anyway, to fill the silence, and possibly offer a distraction if her thoughts strayed to that rotten little piece of –
"Doctor?" he turned to look at her, his train of thought coming an abrupt halt. "Why don't you find someone decent?"
"It's too soon," he replied, before lying down on the snow, hands behind his head as he looked at the sky, determinedly avoiding her eye.
"Don't be like that."
"You want the truth?" she nodded and he gently pulled her back so she was laying next to him. He rolled over so he was on his side, looking her straight in the eye. "I don't want to find someone decent because I know I'll be disappointed. No matter what." Martha looked upwards, feeling awkward and guilty.
"You shouldn't do that," she told him. "You should find a decent girl, an enthusiastic girl, cos I bet there are plenty of them out there, and you should show them the universe." She looked back at him to find that he was avoiding her eye now.
He didn't answer her. Of course he didn't. Because she was right. They lay in the snow in silence for a while, and he finally spoke, pushing a piece of her fringe out of her face as he did. "I miss having you around, you know." Martha didn't reply. His hand had come to rest on her jaw, having moved all flyaway strands of hair out of her line of vision. He was so close. He was getting closer. It was freezing but his lips were warm, sending a surge of heat through her body as he kissed her.
Quite suddenly, she was cold again, and he was sitting up, hand pulling at his hair. "Sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't think, last thing you need today."
"Today?" Martha asked as she sat up.
"Well she won't be back 'til six, come round. I'm sure we can find something to do...yeah, she doesn't have a clue. So wrapped up in that hospital that she's got no idea that I'm getting my action elsewhere."
"Right, today. Of course," she said bitterly, swallowing down a lump in her throat. He turned around as a tear escaped her eye. He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head as she let a few more tears escape. It was useless trying to hold back now, the barrier had come down, the flood gates had opened. "I'd forgotten until now."
"Forgotten?" the Doctor asked. "How could you forget?"
"I guess that's just what you do to me," she said, more to his coat than to him. He pulled her closer, feeling incredibly guilty for reminding her of it all when she'd been quite happy to let it slip from her mind.
They sat in the snow and he held her, allowing her to find comfort in the person she'd never really stopped loving. Not that she'd ever really expected to stop.
"Blimey, it's hot in here!" he remarked, slinging his coat and jacket over the back of the settee and loosening his tie. Martha walked into the kitchen and set about getting them both a cold drink. "Just gonna use your loo," he called as he wandered into the bathroom, door closing behind him with a quiet click.
Martha set both drinks down on the coffee table and moved his coat and jacket off of the settee and onto one of the coat pegs by the door. She would have been knocked out, had she not dodged out the way when the door opened. "What are you doing here?" she asked Ryan, who frowned at her.
"I thought you'd gone, I came by to get some stuff."
"Yeah well I came back, didn't I?" she replied testily. He smirked, obviously thinking she hadn't been anywhere at all. After all, one couldn't go on holiday for two hours.
"Well I'll just grab some stuff and-"
"I can't seem to cool down! Blimey, all that running and all that escaping and I've never even got close to being this hot, but now, in your flat, I just can't seem to shake it off. Could do with a cold shower, actually." Martha was pleased as punch when she noticed his dishevelled appearance. He'd obviously been pulling at his hair again, and he was holding his tie in his hand. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone and the hem of it was only half tucked into his trousers. Add all of that to a slightly sweaty sheen on his body and it all gave Ryan the wrong idea.
"Oh, hello, don't think we've met. I'm the Doctor and -" he'd been about to say 'this is Martha' but managed to catch himself at the last second. Old habits die hard.
"This is Ryan," Martha explained. The Doctor's cheerful smile dropped instantly.
"And who are you, eh?" Ryan asked, stepping forward. "What have you been doing with Martha?"
"That's none of your business," Martha told him, pulling him back by his shirt collar. "Now go back to Danielle and leave us alone, alright?" she pushed him out the door before having the last word. "And you wondered why I spent so much time at the hospital?" she shut the door and felt herself grin wickedly.
"Miss Jones, did you just use me in such a manner that meant sufficient revenge was exacted upon your ex?" Martha's grin grew wider. He'd been offering himself up, coming out of the bathroom like that, at that moment. It had been perfect.
"Problem?" Martha asked innocently.
In a split second she found herself pressed up against the window, his arms wrapped around her, his lips on hers. Her hands found their way to his hair, her fingers running through it, savouring the texture of the thick brown mess that was so sexy/adorable. He pulled away and winked at her, glancing out the window, his eyes falling on Ryan, who was watching furiously. "Nope, no problem," he told her. "Just glad to be of service." Martha turned around and saw Ryan walking away, pausing only to kick a lamp post in frustration. Martha laughed loudly and turned back to the Doctor, who was ecstatic to see her so happy when really, in typical Earth tradition; she should be sobbing and eating far too much ice cream while watching 'Sliding Doors'.
"Ah, I'd better be off," the Doctor told her, standing up and putting his tie on. "I'll be back soon, just give us a ring if you need me." Martha nodded and he held out his arms for a hug. She held onto him tightly, delighting in the feeling of his arms around her. Looking back, she didn't know why she'd stuck with Ryan for so long. He couldn't even hug her as well as the Doctor could, so what had been the point? She sighed and stepped away from the Doctor, smiling sadly.
"Oh! I left my mittens on the Tardis!"
"And there goes an excuse to visit," the Doctor replied as she opened the door and stepped inside, the Doctor stepping in after her.
"You don't need an excuse," she told him as she picked up the mittens. "You're quite welcome to move into the flat," she joked, and he smiled. He hung about by the controls, twisting a dial back and forth. She was reaching for the door handle. She was going to go for God knows how long. "Martha?" she turned around, mittens held loosely by her side.
Her breath hitched in her throat. It was as though she were looking at him properly for the first time ever. His eyes weren't masking anything with a cheeky glint, there was no manic grin, no bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, no speed talking, no gesticulating, nothing.