Author: Zoe Saugin
Fandom: Doctor Who/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Summary: The first time Martha Jones realized the sacrifices that had to be made for her cause was the same time she realized that she wasn't alone in the fight. Set during the DW year that never was and Buffy season 3.
Disclaimer: Look, sadly, I don't own Fray or Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Doctor Who. All I have are my Buffy the Vampire Slayer seasons and my computer and my ideas. And sometimes I pretend I own David Tennant. But only sometimes!
Note: Written for the Fireplace Crossover Challenge. If you have a spare moment, could you go over to the FP (#1 in the general forums) and ahem vote for me? I'd love you forever.
"You do not want a war. You have known violence. You have suffered loss. But you know nothing of war. War is not just the business of death. It is the antithesis of life. Hope, tortured and flayed. Reason, dismembered, grinning at its limbs in its lap. Decency raped to death. You will be a murderer, and more. You will be a leader." –Fray, written by Joss Whedon
When Flight 148 (non-stop from Heathrow to L.A.) touched down on the runway, the passengers on the flight breathed a collective sigh of relief. While traveling from Britain to America wasn't banned (yet, though rumor was it soon would be), there was always the chance that one of the Saxon-bots (as they had been dubbed by one particularly brassy talk show host who had disappeared the next day) would accidentally shoot a plane down from the sky.
Sure, after the 10 massacre, there had been no more examples of widespread violence in the weeks that followed. Some said it was because the world was stunned. Some said it was because everyone knew it was futile. Others said it was because Saxon had blackmailed, bribed, killed or threatened the leaders of the world.
The name that had once been a symbol of hope became a curse word across the world, and one by one the militaries of the world were turned into armies for Saxon.
As the passengers disembarked, they were greeted by soldiers with guns, who demanded to know what their purposes in America were. The passengers, wearied by the long flight, gave up without an argument over privacy laws.
Privacy had become a precious commodity.
In the inner airport, one of the bags of a certain British gentleman began to wriggle, as two girls, a blonde and a brunette, dressed in the uniform of airport staff, looked on. As the wriggling became more pronounced and the bag began to zip open from the inside, the two girls raised their eyebrows at each other.
The brunette reached out, taking the zipper, and pulled the bag open easily, then stepped back. The two girls watched as a pretty, young black woman extracted herself from the bag, eying the girls warily and moving slowly as though any sudden movements might spook them into movement.
The blonde flashed a hundred-watt smile at the black girl, holding out her hand. "Martha Jones, I presume?"
Martha took the proffered hand and shook it. "Depends on who you are."
"We're the welcoming committee," said the brunette, smirking.
The blonde rolled her eyes. "Ignore Faith," she jerked her head towards the younger girl, who wiggled her fingers in a wave, still smirking. "She likes to make jokes." She dropped Martha's hand. "We've heard so much about you, Martha. I'm Buffy Summers. Welcome to California."
"…Buffy…" said Martha, after a pause. "Sorry, but who are you?"
"We heard about your mission." At the spark of fear in Martha's eyes, Buffy did her best to smile reassuringly. "Don't worry, I don't think the Man Upstairs knows—our spies are human, and know how to get into tight places. And if he knew what you were doing, you'd already be dead."
"What B here is trying to say…" said Faith, shooting an impatient look at her blonde counterpart. "…is that we want to help."
"And we will explain everything." Buffy reassured her.
"Just not here. And not while can almost feel my ass showing in this outfit." Amended Faith.
Buffy frowned apologetically at Martha. "I'm afraid you've got to put on one of these outfits. It's the only way to get out without being stopped."
Martha stared at the short red skirt and white blouse that was the dress code of this particular airport and groaned.
When Faith began to drive out of the city limits (Buffy had refused to drive, muttering something about wheels and bad luck and, for some reason, rabbits), Martha asked the question that had bothered her.
"Are you based in L.A.?"
Faith regarded her with amusement. "What makes you think there's a group of us?"
"Please." Said Martha, rolling her eyes. "Two girls cannot take on Saxon by themselves."
"You'd be surprised." Said Buffy from her position leaning against the window. She and Faith shared an unreadable look that Martha stored away in the back of her mind for later investigation.
"Still…" Martha said. "We're obviously heading somewhere."
"We're not based in L.A." said Buffy, with a sigh. "We're in a small town. Sunnydale."
"Seriously?" said Martha, looking from one girl to another. "Sunnydale. That's a real place."
"Seriously." Said Faith, mimicking Martha's accent. "We even have real signs!" She said, pointing at the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign. However, instead of entering on the main road, Faith veered right and began to drive towards a set of cliffs.
Seeing Martha's confused expression, Buffy explained. "We can't stay in the real town, because soldiers are posted there. Sunnydale was part of the 10 of the world that was decimated, along with several other small towns in California. The Saxon-bots left after the initial attack, when they thought everyone was dead. Close, but not quite."
"But you still have cable." Said Martha, referring to Buffy's use of the "Saxon-bots" phrase.
"Oh, I like this one!" crowed Faith. "She's perceptive." Turning to Martha, she whispered conspiratorially. "I loved Jon Stewart."
"Faith! Eyes on the road!" reprimanded Buffy.
Faith stuck out her tongue at the older girl, eliciting an eye-roll and a small smile, at which Martha notice a small expression of triumph pass over Faith's face.
"So where are we going?" said Martha, getting back to the point.
"There's a knot of caves and tunnels from a long time ago, almost no one knows about. Wil—" Buffy bit her lip. "Someone I knew found them when she was six and showed them to me last year."
"How many of you are there?" asked Martha.
Buffy bit her lip. "Not many. Me, Faith, Xander, Giles, Wesley, Oz, Amanda, Hanna, Charlie, and Parker are the main officers. There's about two hundred and thirty people living in the caves, about half of which volunteer to fight. You'll see." Martha huffed with impatience. "And Spike…he helps out."
"Spike. That's a name?" asked Martha in disbelief.
"Not really." said Faith, grinning. "You'll see."
Martha sunk back into her seat, muttering about insane Americans and steering wheels, as Faith guided the car slowly towards the cliffs.
Faith parked the car between two rocks, where it was hidden from above and three sides. Martha followed Buffy as the blonde led the way to a hidden path, with Faith bringing up the rear.
"It's protected magically." Explained Buffy, as Martha gasped at the appearance of the previously unseen path. "You can't see it unless you know where it is."
"Bit like Pirates of the Caribbean, then?" joked Martha. The words actually hit her, and she stopped, causing Faith to walk into her and swear colorfully. "Magic?"
"Yes." Answered Buffy simply.
"Right." Said Martha, biting her lip.
"C'mon." said Faith, mischievously. "We've got things to do. Let's go!" She broke into a run, faster than Martha had ever seen a normal girl run before. Faith tugged lightly on Buffy's jacket as she passed, silently challenging the girl to a race. After a moment of consideration, Buffy began to run, and Faith let out a whoop of laughter, beginning to run faster.
Martha got caught up in the excitement and began to run as well. Though running from world to world with the Doctor for 10-odd (some very odd) months, she couldn't seem to catch up with the two girls. She turned a bend in the path to find the two girls leaning against a rock. Faith smiled brightly, and knocked on the rock in a pattern.
Bump, bumpitty bump, bump…bump bump.
A door opened in the rock, and all three girls entered, Martha somewhat warily. Faith squeezed Martha's shoulder reassuringly. "We're safe here." Turning to address Buffy, the younger girl looked hopeful. "Can I—?" she asked hopefully.
"Yeah." Said Buffy. "Go. I'll bring Martha by later." With a smirk, Faith bounded off down the hallway.
"Where's she going?" asked Martha, staring after her.
"Training room." Said Buffy tersely.
"Training for…what?" plied Martha.
"Training for war." Said Buffy, somber.
"This is our headquarters." Said Buffy, as they walk into the biggest cave Martha has ever seen. Several people milled around, a small group gathered around a network of computers with others drifting here and there. When they saw Martha, they all fell silent.
In the sudden quiet, a head popped up from the middle of the cluster around the computer. "Why'd everyone go so quiet?" asked a plaintive voice, as the head swung around. Obviously locating Martha, the person pushed his way through the group.
"Is that her?" said the boy, who couldn't be over nineteen. He had black hair and green eyes, and a smirk played along his lips. "Martha Jones. You're even prettier than I thought you'd be."
"Save it, loverboy." Advised a girl, stepping up behind him and pulling him gently back. She had blonde hair and the same green eyes as the boy, and looked about the same age. She held a girl, perhaps six or seven, who also had blonde hair, on one side. She put the girl down, and the girl immediately hugged her legs, almost tripping her as she held out her hand to Martha. "Ignore Charlie, he'll flirt with anything that moves. I'm Parker, Head of Information Personnel. This—" she indicated the girl attached to her legs. "—is my assistant, Rebecca."
"And I—" started Charlie, but was cut off by Parker.
"Don't." She said, leveling a glare at him.
"What makes you—?"
"I'm older than you." She smiled sweetly.
"By three minutes and forty-nine seconds." He grumbled.
"And don't you forget it." She replied. She turned back to Martha. "Charlie is the Head of Technological Information." She paused. "He handles the computers. I get the people."
"Intelligence." Said Martha. "So you two are…spies?"
"We're more than spies," broke in Charlie. "Well, I am." He glared at his sister. "I hide this place from the military. I also make sure our cell phones are untraceable, and I make sure our information stays protected. Parker gets the food and water we need."
"But…why?" asked Martha. "Why do you do this for us?"
And almost identical shadow passed over the twins' faces. "The only thing we care about…" said Parker, face hardening. "Is Becca's safety. Don't get me wrong, I think you're right. But the only reason we're helping is so that Becca can live free and safe."
Buffy coughed and pulled Martha towards the door. "Regular time!" she shouted to the twins, who responded with nods of acquiescence.
"Where are their parents?" asked Martha, glancing back.
Buffy bit her lip. "Charlie, Parker, and Rebecca lived in a small town 20 miles north of Sunnydale. They were camping about three miles out of town when the 10 massacre happened. They were overlooked, but the town was destroyed, along with their grandmother and parents. Faith and Oz found them when they went on a search for any survivors."
They entered a room with a map on a table, with three people standing around it in animated conversation. The boy immediately broke off from what he was saying when he saw Buffy. "Buffster!" he said. "You're back! And you found her."
"Yeah, Xand, we did." Said Buffy, smiling. "Martha, can I introduce Xander Harris, my second-in-command." Xander bowed playfully. The two other people in the room—a stunning black woman and a teenage girl with long red hair—waited patiently. "And this is Hannah—" the woman inclined her head and smiled "—and her daughter, Chloe." The redhead waved enthusiastically, almost bouncing.
"The Goddess watches over you." Said Hannah, bowing.
"Hannah is the Head of Magic." Explained Buffy. "Chloe's also Wiccan, and they help shield us."
"And we're back to magic…" said Martha.
"All will be explained." Said Buffy. "Regular time?" All three people nodded.
They continued down the hallway, as Buffy pointed out the rooms they passed. "Bathroom—one of seven. Showers. TV room—it's always a toss-up between Secret Diary of a Call Girl and Secret Life of the American Teenager."
Martha struggled to keep up with the rushing girl, almost colliding with her when she stopped abruptly. Buffy smiled and darted through a door immediately on her left. Martha followed and found herself in a huge cave, with about a hundred people on the floor. In the middle was a raised platform, where Martha saw Faith and a short boy with blond hair standing.
When Faith saw her she called a halt to whatever it was the people were doing, and bounded off the platform, closely followed by the blond boy.
"Well, Miss Jones," teased Faith. "How do you like our humble abode?"
"It'll do," said Martha, a small grin on her face.
The boy beside Faith cleared his throat, and Faith rolled her eyes. "This is Oz." She said. He shook Martha's hand. "He doesn't talk." She nudged him playfully. "I think it's the wolf in him." She studiously ignored his glare.
"Wolf?" asked Martha, already resigning herself to not getting an answer.
"Werewolf." Said Oz, tersely. Martha decided not to ask.
"Martha, not to pawn you off or anything, but can you stay here for a little bit?" asked Buffy. "There's some stuff I need to do—."
"Alone." Finished Martha. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"We'll take good care of her, B." said Faith, smiling winningly. She went over to a man on the edge of the crowd (who had been staring curiously at Martha) and said a few quick words. The man nodded and approached the stage, drawing the attention to him.
Faith returned and sat down in one of the seats scattered throughout the room, smiling up at Martha. "So, Martha, anything you want to know?"
Martha bit her lip, considering. When she spoke, it was slowly, as though she was wary of the affect her words would have on her audience. "Buffy…why is she so…sad?"
Oz and Faith exchanged grim looks, and to Martha's surprise, it was Oz who began to speak.
"In the 10 massacre, Buffy was on a patrol." When Martha opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand, silencing her. "The Saxon-bots came into the town. Buffy hid in a crypt, but after they were gone, she came home and found her mom on the floor. And then…" he swallowed visibly. "Buffy's best friend…my girlfriend…Willow. She was Wiccan, she tried to take down a Saxon-bot that was attacking a school bus. She managed to transport it into a different dimension, but it got off a shot at her before she fully transported it. Buffy got there too late, and Willow died in her arms."
"Oh." Said Martha softly.
"Red was…special." Said Faith. "She always tried to do the right thing, and tried not to judge people. I didn't know her that long, but I still miss her."
Martha bit her lip, not wanting to make Oz and Faith dredge up bad memories. She searched for a different topic to bring the conversation to.
"Why are you and Buffy special?" she blurted out. When Faith looked at her, eyebrow raised, Martha blushed. "I mean, everyone follows you two, but at the end of the day you're just two teenage girls. So why do they follow you?"
"That's a…complicated story." Said Faith, sighing.
"Start from the beginning." Advised Oz. Faith glared at him.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious." She turned back to Martha. "A long time ago, the world was infested with…vampires. Now that contact with space has been established, we can only guess that they were some form of aliens."
"The first time I met the Doctor…" said Martha. "There was a woman—an alien—who was drinking peoples' blood with straws."
"She might be related, but vampires drink blood via biting." Explained Faith. "But a group of men got together and trapped the spirit of one of the vampires in a girl. She became as strong and fast as the vampires. When she died, the spirit passed to the next girl. Vampire Slayers—what they're called—have a short life expectancy."
"So, you and Buffy…" Martha trailed off. "How come there are two of you?"
Faith flashed a grin. "Buffy died."
Martha's mouth fell open. "What?"
"Xander saved her, gave her CPR, but the spirit had already passed on to Kendra. Kendra was killed by…Drusilla, a vampire, and now I carry on the Slayer line." Faith's eyes widened. "Oh, shit. Oz, what time is it?"
Oz glanced at his watch. "3:57."
"We gotta go." Said Faith. She raised her arms and the man on the platform caught her eye and nodded. "Come on."
They proceeded through twisting hallways until they came to a large, well-lit room. In the middle was a large table with chairs around it. Looking bored and spinning around in one of the chairs was a bleached-blonde man with a leather duster. Two seats down from him, Parker was deep in conversation with a young woman, who looked to be in her mid-twenties with strawberry-blonde hair tied into ballet bun. An angry scar ran down her face, and she wore an eye patch. Her nose looked like it had been broken at least twice.
Near them, Hannah and Chloe were holding a whispered conference. Next to them, Charlie was exchanging pleasantries with Xander, who was absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the table. Buffy sat at the head of the table, flanked by two men, one significantly older than the other, though both wore glasses and were dressed alike.
When the blond man caught sight of Martha, Faith, and Oz, he stopped spinning and smiled what could only be described as a feral smile.
"Martha Jones." He drawled in a cockney accent. "You're quite the legend, you know. But I didn't think you'd be quite so…biteable."
"Spike." Said Buffy, warningly, not looking up from the book she was reading.
"I know. I bite, you slay." He rolled his eyes. "Got to tell you, Slayer, your threats are slightly outdated."
Martha bit her lip. "Vampire?" She guessed.
"Yeah." He said, surprised. "Name's Spike. Though, being British and all, you might know me as William the Bloody."
"William the Bloody as in…the Scourge of Europe?" asked Martha, eyes widening.
"Ah." He said, grinning. "So you have heard of me."
"Let's tone down on the ego stroking, okay, Spike?" said Buffy. "So, most of you have met Martha Jones, but—" she smiled at Martha. "I'd like to introduce you to Amanda—" the woman with the eye patch saluted, sticking her tongue out as she did so. "She's in charge of transportation." She pointed to the older man. "That's Giles—"
"Rupert Giles." Interrupted the man with a smooth British accent. "I'm honored to meet you."
"—and Wesley Wyndham-Price." Buffy indicated the other man. "They're researching to try and find a way to kill the Saxon-bots."
There was a brief pause, which was broken by Spike.
"Cutting straight to the point, we need a plan."
"We have a plan." Said Faith, grinning. "Martha survives to fight another day, whatever the cost."
"Yes." Said Spike, impatiently. "But I was thinking of a plan a bit more sophisticated."
Hannah turned towards Martha, speaking softly. "We devised a spell that would allow you to project yourself in several places at once. Our coven extends all over the mid-West, and will carry the spell as you speak."
"Won't it scare them, seeing me there, but me not actually being there?" asked Martha.
"The sky's filled with robots, our military is being controlled by a British man on a spaceship, and General Hospital got canceled. I don't think many people will notice or care if you're not actually there." Said Parker dryly.
"True…" Martha trailed off as Buffy began to speak.
"After she does that, we should travel further east." Decided Buffy.
"How are we going to do that?" asked Martha. "They aren't going to just let me walk across the country."
"No, you'll be in a van." Said Buffy, without a hint of irony. "And we'll be making a distraction."
"B, she can't go alone." Said Faith, frowning. "She'll get caught, she doesn't know where she's going."
"No, she can't." Buffy took a deep breath. "That's why you and Oz are going with her."
"No." said Faith, folding her arms. "I'm not going to sit and play babysitter—no offense, Martha—while you guys sacrifice yourselves for the greater good."
"Faith, it's an order." Said Buffy, eyes steely. "Parker, Charlie, Wesley, and Giles will stay here with the refugees, hiding. Xander, Hannah, Spike, and I will lead an army towards a major military base. Faith, Oz, Martha, and Amanda, and a witch, will sneak out from the resulting chaos."
Faith slumped. "Yes, ma'am." She said sarcastically.
"Well, look on the bright side," said Spike, breaking the uneasy silence that had fallen on the table. "For once, the saving of the world is in the hands of the British. No way we're going to fail." He saluted Martha with a smirk.
Martha stood on a platform in front of a multitude of people as Charlie and Parker argued nearby. They had decided to do the speech in front of the refugees, so that Martha didn't have to do it again later.
"Are you ready?" Parker asked Charlie for what Martha privately believed to be the 100th time. Charlie was planning to videotape Martha's speech as well, so that he could spread it on the Internet.
Chloe, standing nearby, caught Martha's eye and grinned, gesturing obscenely at the twins' backs. Martha stifled a laugh, and the twins turned. Chloe began to play with her hair, braiding and unbraiding it, until the twins turned back towards the computer.
Hannah arrived. "Are you ready?" She asked. Martha unconsciously grimaced, and Chloe giggled. Hannah looked from one girl to the other and shook her head. "I don't want to know."
She took Chloe's hand, and the two of them began to chant softly in Latin. After a minute or so, they stopped. Hannah nodded, eyes closed, and Martha began to speak.
"My name is Martha Jones, and I have a message for you.
"I've traveled the world, seen things most people can't imagine. I saw the fusion mills of China, the factories of Russia. I've seen people living like slaves, because no one had the strength to fight. And I know I've become a legend, but that's not right. Because I don't have the strength to fight. There's only one man who does. The man who sent me out here, who's saved your lives more than anyone knows. He never asked for anything in return. He never stops, or stays, or asks for gratitude.
"His name is the Doctor, and I love him. I believe that he can save us. Even more, I believe in him. I believe in what he can do. I know him, and I know that he will be able to do what no one else can do, when the time comes.
"So don't believe in Martha Jones. Believe in the Doctor."
When she stopped talking, the entire cavern was filled with silence, except for the beep as the camera was turned off.
Slowly, someone began to clap. Martha turned towards the sound, and saw that of all the people, Spike was clapping. Faith quickly joined in, and everyone followed suit until the cave echoed with applause. Martha blushed, getting quickly off the stage.
She was pulled aside by Chloe, who quickly began to push her towards the door. "Did I do okay?"
The redhead snorted. "Martha, in the six months I've lived here, I've never seen them all silent." She smiled. "We had to get you out of there before a riot started. That's how good you were."
They entered a small room across from the big cavern, and Faith burst in a moment later. She walked to Martha and hugged her. "You are wicked cool." Faith exclaimed.
"But that was the easy part." Reminded Buffy, coming in. "Faith, you and Martha leave tomorrow."
"Ma'am." Said Chloe, stepping forward. Buffy winced at the word, but attempted a small smile.
"I want to be the one to accompany them." A soft gasp came from the doorway, and they turned to see Hannah standing there.
"Chloe…" The woman started.
"No, Mom." Said Chloe, resolve written all over her face. "You're probably going to die out there tomorrow. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm almost as strong a witch as you are. That's why you adopted me, remember?" The girl stood up straight. "I'm going."
Hannah closed her eyes. "If that's what you wish, Chloe."
The morning (if that's what it was, Martha wasn't sure, being in a cave) dawned to find Martha lying awake after a night of tossing and turning. Faith entered the room quietly, and knelt by the bed.
"Time to go." She whispered.
The whole community was subdued. Amanda was waiting with two motorcycles and a van. Chloe, face drawn, was sitting on a motorcycle, muttering under her breath as she stared into space. Oz, without comment, sat in the driver's seat of the van. Faith climbed into the passenger seat, and Martha sat in the back, which was filled with crates but had a secret compartment that Martha could hide in, hidden by magic.
They drove into the desert, almost silent except for the hum of the engine. Martha debated whether or not to ask the question that had been bothering her, and decided to. She moved closer to the window dividing the back from the front, and spoke. "Faith…how did you survive?"
Faith didn't look surprised by the question. "I hid. We all did, though in different ways. Oz was in L.A. with his band, and I…I hid underneath the bodies of a family—a mother, grandmother, and a son and a daughter." Faith bit her lip. "The girl was thirteen. They didn't even care that she was still a kid, they just came and…and…wiped her out. I found out later that her name was Anna." Her eyes widened as she looked out in front of them. "Oh, shit. Martha, get down."
Martha saw the soldiers in front of them and hurriedly got into the crawl space in the truck. Thankfully, she had never been claustrophobic.
She waited, hardly daring to breath as she heard the muted voices of soldiers coming from outside. The van's back door was opened, and she could suddenly hear clearly what they were saying.
"—don't know who they think they're kidding. Refugees? As if."
"What kind of refugees travel with an escort? We should see if their papers check out."
"Takes too long. Can we hold them?"
They were ruffling through the back of the van when Martha heard the box over her head being pulled away.
"Collins! Found something!" One of the soldiers said, pulling up the door to the crawl space. Martha shut her eyes tightly and climbed out, opening them in time to see the tip of a knife protruding from one of the soldier's chests. Before the other had time to react, Faith slit his throat, breathing heavily.
"You…you killed them." Said Martha in disbelief, staring at the corpses. Faith grimaced beginning to pull them out of the van.
"They would have killed you." She replied grimly.
"You didn't have to kill them." Said Martha, still staring at the bodies.
"What would you have done?!" yelled Faith. "I didn't want to kill them. I did what I had to. Kill or be killed, Martha. It's the way the world is now. Would they have hesitated to kill you? No. You have a price on your head, and it's dead or alive. So lecture me about morals when your Doctor's saved the world, okay? Maybe then you'll know if I made the right choice." She slammed the door as she got back into her seat.
Martha stared at the bodies of the soldiers in silence as the van drove away, flanked by a worried Amanda and a shocked Chloe.
Around noon, a swarm of Saxon-bots passed overhead. Martha didn't understand the implication of it until she heard Oz say, "There's nothing you can do, Faith."
She turned and saw Faith leaning against the window, biting her lip so hard that it bled. "I should be there."
"Faith, how old are you?" asked Martha, impulsively, finding that she didn't know.
"I'm seventeen." The other girl replied tersely.
"How many people…" Martha trailed off, not knowing how to phrase the question.
"Twelve." Said Faith, face blank. "You're trying to spread your message, Martha, but it's other people who give their lives and their souls to make sure you can."
A week later, they reached the ruins of New York, meeting a coven of witches who would help them.
Two and a half weeks later, Faith Lehane and Amanda Fisher died fighting a Saxon-bot so that Oz, Chloe, and Martha could escape.
A month later, Martha left Daniel Osbourne and Chloe DiCrenzo standing on the shore as she sailed away back towards England.
A year later, and Martha Jones still remembers, even if no one else does.