Title: Second Chances
Paring: Martha/Peter Carlisle, slight Dr/Martha
Spoilers: No big ones, but I guess the whole of series 3.
Summary: Dr Who/Blackpool/Torchwood crossover. So the Doctor and Martha weren't meat to be, what would happen if Martha encountered Peter Carlisle? Season 4 hasn't happened so for this fic, Martha didn't rejoin the Dr.
"Jack, I can't do this! I'm a terrible liar." She could almost hear him laughing at her as he replied.
"Of course you can. Now Tosh will call you when she's set your fake ID up for you. Do you have the psychic paper?"
"Good. You know I'd be there with you if I could. Now take a deep breath and get to it."
Martha smiled. "Yes sir."
"That's my girl." He hung up and Martha closed the phone.
Martha turned to the voice. "Doctor Jones," she corrected.
"Of course, I do apologise. I'm Chief Inspector Carlisle. You performed CPR on the victim, right?"
"That's right, what can I do for you?"
He was looking quizzically at her. "You were staring at me while I was over the other side of the lobby and you're looking a little odd right now. Is something wrong?"
"No. You just remind me of an old friend."
He smiled. "Old boyfriend?"
"No. Just a friend. But you don't sound like him, if that helps."
"Good, wouldn't want to think I have a doppelganger out there."
Martha smiled. Up close the resemblance was less remarkable. This man was scruffier than the Doctor had been, his suit was cheaper and he was unshaven. Still, she couldn't help thinking that the stubble would have looked good on the doctor. The Scottish brogue was interesting too. Not better than the doctors voice, but maybe warmer.
"I was wondering if you'd talk me through what happened?"
"I already gave my statement to one of your officers."
"I know," he pulled on his ear lobe. Martha couldn't help but think of the TV detective, Columbo, his apparent ineptitude hiding a sharp intellect. She had a suspicion this man used a similar trick to put people at ease "I just like to hear thing first hand. Helps me remember things."
"And check for inconsistencies."
He looked at her a moment, seeming to size her up. "That too." He agreed. "Will there be any inconsistencies in your story?"
"No." Martha's phone rang . "Excuse me," she told him, turning away. Tosh spoke to her and Martha listened. "Got it. Thanks, Tosh." She hung up and turned back to Carlisle. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?"
He gestured towards the front door, watching her closely as he followed her outside.
The wind was light but night had brought a chill to the air. Martha began walking in the hotel grounds, trying to keep warm.
"Bit soon to be confessing, isn't it?" he asked, falling into step beside her.
Martha smiled, realising he was teasing. Or half teasing, at least. "Maybe you're just that good."
"Maybe I am." He didn't speak again. A well known interrogation tactic Jack had taught her. Martha cracked first.
"I didn't just happen across this scene." She told him.
Carlisle just nodded.
"I'm an Intelligence Officer for MI5, I'm following a... man. I think these two murders are his work." She handed him the psychic paper with the details Tosh had managed to plant in the MI5 computers.
He took the paper and looked at it. "So this is the point where you either take over my investigation, or shut us down, right?"
He looked mildly surprised. "Then what? You let us run around until we get close to the truth, then swoop in and shut us down?"
"Believe me, if you get close to the truth, you won't believe it anyway."
They walked in silence for a few moments.
"Nah, I'm sorry, but I don't buy it."
"Everythin'. You are about as far from Security Service as it's possible to be."
Martha looked at him shocked.
"That's a compliment, by the way," he continued. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm sure if I called up you're credentials would be valid. But that doesn't make it true."
Martha kicked herself, she had never been a good liar. She crossed her arms and said, defensively, "All you need to know is that I work for an organisation who's resources are unlimited and who's influence extends farther than you can imagine."
"Well, in that case, the investigation's all yours then."
"Don't be sarcastic."
"Tell me," he rubbed his chin. "How are you hoping this will end?"
"I'd like to work along side you."
"Because it's easier. I could do it alone, I'd still learn everything in every report, probably before you did, but I'd rather not go over your head."
He nodded slowly. "Righ-t. And the truth?"
Maybe it was because of his resemblance to the Doctor, she didn't know, but Martha considered her options and decided to trust him. "I've never something like this alone before." She confessed.
They had walked around to the back of the hotel by now. Carlisle sat on one of the benches beside the pond and Martha sat down beside him.
"So, basically, you want to spy on my investigation, use police resources, pick my brain and I'm not allowed to know what's going on, or any pertinent information what so ever."
Martha smiled. "When you put it like that..."
"So tell me."
Martha wanted to, she did desperately. But she was too much of a professional. "Honestly, you wouldn't believe me."
They sat in silence, both looking at the moonlight reflected on the water.
Finally Carlisle sighed. "Call me crazy, but okay, I'm in."
Martha tried to hide her grin. "Good."
"You'll need new forged ID. Consulting psychologist would be a believable cover." He said, nonchalantly.
Martha took her phone out and dialled Torchwood's base. She knew Tosh would answer because everyone else was out chasing aliens, just like she was.
"It's me again. I need you to set me up as some sort of consultant to the police."
Carlisle watched her closely as she talked.
"Don't worry, I'll clear it with Jack." She closed the phone. "She'll let me know when it's done." She told him. Perhaps she sensed his scrutiny, which was why she didn't look at him.
Carlisle liked a good mystery, and Doctor Martha Jones was certainly that. He was almost certain she had nothing to do with the murders, but there was much more to her than met the eye. And he was going to find out what, even if it killed him.
He pulled out a roll of mints and offered the pack to her. Martha thanked him and took one.
"So." He began, popping a mint in his mouth before wrapping the packet up and stowing it away in a pocket. "The man you're after is looking for something, isn't he?"
"Yeah." She looked enquiringly at him. "How did you-"
"The room where the other victim was found was ransacked." He answered her. "And no, he didn't get it."
"Why do you say that?"
"The second victim was killed while the perpetrator was on his way out, apparently enraged."
"And if he'd got what he'd come for he wouldn't be angry."
"The first victim, was he tortured?"
"Doesn't look like it."
"Then we have some time. He'll stay around until he finds whatever he's after, or another clue."
"What is he after?"
"Even I don't know."
He stared at her.
He believed her.
They began walking back to the hotel.
"Have you got a place to stay?" he asked.
"I might as well book in here."
He raised his eyebrows. "This is a five star hotel."
Martha smiled. "Like I said, we're well financed."
He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "I can see that."
Out front of the hotel Martha walked up to a large black SUV and pulled a holdall and large black case from the back.
"You don't travel light, then." He observed.
Martha swung the holdall over her shoulder. "This is my luggage." She pulled out the handle on the suitcase to wheel it in. "This is my equipment."
Looking bemused he offered "Can I take that for you?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
"If I come back in with you I can get you a look around the first crime scene."
Martha considered a moment then handed him her holdall. "Sure."
Martha pulled what looked like a large mobile phone from her case and held it up in front if her as she turned slowly in the room. This situation was so huge that the usual rule of not removing alien objects from the headquarters had been over ridden. Everyone had taken as much as they thought would be useful to them before heading off on their assignments.
"Scanner." She explained.
"Course." He replied, like it explained everything. He stayed by the door watching her. She didn't even attempt to touch or move anything in the room, but she did take the device closer to some objects. Sometimes it made a high pitched whine, sometimes it gave of low beeps.
Finally satisfied, she turned the device off and headed out of the room.
"What happens to that now?" he asked.
"I send the data back to HQ."
He nodded, unsure how to keep her talking.
Martha also seemed reluctant to leave but finally said. "Right then, I'd better check in. Night." She headed for the reception desk.
"So, I'll see you at the station tomorrow?"
She turned back. "Why?"
"You wanted to work with me, that's where I work from."
"Okay, I'll meet you there."
She turned to the reception again and he was dismissed.
As soon as Martha was settled in her suite, she e-mailed the scan results off to HQ with a PS to find out anything possible on Peter Carlisle.
It only took 30 minutes for the results of the scan to come back. Martha wasn't surprised; the system was automated and analyzed by computer. Most of Torchwood was hi tech these days. Things had moved forward a lot and Tosh's main job was simply to look after the system.
Of course things were rarely that simple and Martha was glad there was someone as capable as Tosh running things back there.
She glanced over the scan results, unsurprised by the findings. Alien DNA, single source, from the Vartoan race. No match to any Vartoan's in their database.
Martha thought this was hardly unexpected since she didn't even know what a Vartoan was. Thankfully a brief description was included.
"Vartoan – A warrior race from the blue planet of the Karanly system. Their technology is advanced and mainly stolen from the races they have conquered. They are strong though not particularly fast. Bipedal, over 7 feet tall and slightly hunched in appearance, they are known to use holo technology to change physical appearance at will. In recent years they have developed a reputation as bounty hunters or guns for hire."
"Wonderful," said Martha. Here she was chasing a seven foot alien who could change its appearance at will and snap her like a twig.
Her computer beeped and she saw the file on Carlisle had arrived. She opened the attachments.
Carlisle was trying something similar. First he'd tried a criminal record search. He remembered her date of birth from the ID she showed him and assumed it to be true. The best lies were based on truth, after all. He reasoned the search was justified as she was a possible suspect in the case. At least that's what he would tell anyone who questioned this action. But nothing, she was clean.
A Google search had revealed nothing, not a birth statement, not a marriage notice, not even a local paper article of her winning a swimming prize at school.
That alone was weird, no one in this day and age could go through life without a mention somewhere on the internet.
Now he was getting down to good old fashioned detective work.
"Hi, yes, My name is PD Dougan." Best not to use his real name, in case she found out about the call. "I'm trying to locate a Doctor Martha Jones. I have reason to believe she might have worked for you."
Her accent was southern, probably London. She might not be a medical doctor, he reasoned but she had performed CPR so he was starting with London Hospitals. This call was his sixth call.
"I'm afraid I can't release information on the telephone."
"No, I understand that. It's just a friend of hers, Jack, has been in an accident. Jacks girlfriend asked us to track Ms Jones down."
"I still can't check the computers for you, sir. Data Protection. I'm sorry."
"No, no I understand that, but would it be breaking the rules if you asked around? The girlfriend is in a bit of a state, she couldn't give us much to go on."
The operator hesitated a few moments. "I remember her, she used to work in Accident and Emergency. I'll put you on hold and see if there's anyone on shift who remembers her."
A couple of minutes later she came back and told him she was connecting him with a Dr Milligan.
Carlisle repeated his rehearsed speech about needing to find Martha.
"Yeah, she worked here about three years ago but got offered a job in Cardiff. She relocated there."
"Do you have a contact number for her?"
"I did. It's a mobile though, don't know if it still works anymore."
Tom read off the number and Carlisle copied it down.
"Thank you. Do you mind me asking, were you two more than just colleagues?"
"We were for a while, but her heart wasn't in it. I think she'd just got out of something serious, wasn't ready for a new relationship yet."
Carlisle thanked him and hung up. He considered calling the number Tom had given him but decided against it, he didn't want to reveal his hand too soon.
Martha printed out the information on Peter Carlisle and sat down to read it. He had an exemplary record with the police force. The only cloud seemed to have over an incident in Blackpool a few years ago but the official record had few details. He'd been disciplined over a breech of conduct, but nothing more than a slapped wrist. He was a dedicated officer and had earned his promotion to Chief Inspector a year ago. Still very young for such a high rank. Martha had the feeling he was something of a workaholic.
Martha turned to the personal data the search had found and soon had a good idea what the Blackpool incident had been. Peter Carlisle had married the chief suspects wife.
On the next page, however, she learned that the marriage had only lasted four months. His wife had been killed in a car crash with a drunk driver.
There was a copy of a newspaper article with a picture of her car. Martha sighed. Judging by the wreck, his wife hadn't stood a chance.