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toxic_cornSeries: Yet Different
Title: Chapter Five (5/?)
Author: toxic_corn
Rating: A bit R-ish.
Pairing: Martha/Nine
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC, not me.
Spoilers: For the first series up to "Boom Town" and the third series up to "Family of Blood."
Summary: A bit of a time crash and the Doctor finds himself with a new companion.
Notes: As requested by nutmeg610 for Christmas.
Late-night update so Nutmeg can see it tomorrow before she goes to school! :P
Chapter Five
As they fell through the air, Martha prayed that the waste management would break their fall. She wasn’t much of a praying woman and was out of practice but prayed she did.
But as they fell into the back of the truck and the pungent aroma of the refuse heaped around them filled her nostrils, she wondered if she really should have bothered.
“Everyone all right?” the Doctor asked, voice muffled. To her left, a mountain of rubbish shifted and he popped into view, his daffy grin on his face and a smear of Martha-didn’t-want-to-know-what on his cheek.
Toran sat up behind her. “I’m not injured,” he said in a tone that warned no one to ask if he was happy.
“Neither am I,” Martha said.
The Doctor looked at her in concern for a moment and then nodded. “Good. Neither am I. We should try to get out of her when we can. Torn, how far are we from your safe house?”
Toran lurched upright and slogged through the filth to peer over one of the sides of the vehicle. “Not too far. At the next intersection, we should disembark.”
“That won’t attract attention, will it?” Martha said, raising her eyebrows. “Two off-worlders and escaped prisoners popping out the back of a lorry?”
“You can stay here if you’d like,” the Doctor said and pointed across the way. “I’ll bet that hill of muck would be a fantastic spot for a bungalow.”
Martha had to giggle and pointed in the opposite direction. “And a summer home there!”
“That’s the idea!” The Doctor chuckled. Even with streaks of filth on his face, Martha wanted to lick him. Well. Maybe after he’d had a wash.
The lorry was slowing and the Doctor carefully got to his feet and held out a hand to help Martha up. He didn’t relinquish his hold as they mucked their way over to Toran.
“One at a time,” Toran said. The Doctor gently pushed Martha forward and Toran lifted her up to climb over the side. She took a quick look around and saw that not many Raxacoricofallapatorians were out in this neighborhood; she and her fellow escapees just might be able to flee unnoticed.
“Off worlder!”
Or not.
There weren’t any handholds so Martha had to slide down the back of the lorry, squealing in alarm the whole way. She’d have to get control before-
Her feet hit the bumper and the sudden stop made her entire body jerk. Before she could so much as say “bugger,” she was falling backward and her bum met the street, hard.
From her ungraceful position, she watched the Doctor slide down the back much the same as she had but instead, he slid a little further to the left so he had a grip on the lorry’s side, therefore controlling the speed of his slide. He was able to step off the bumper when he reached it without any problems.
“Martha, are you-?” His brow furrowed at seeing her sitting in the road. She quickly jumped up and gritted her teeth as her ass started to twinge in protest.
“Fine,” she gritted out. “But I think we’ve been spotted.”
An audience had started to gather and the Doctor looked grim. “I think you’re right.”
Toran suddenly leapt out of the back of the vehicle and landed in a neat crouch beside the Doctor. “I take it we’ll be running now?” he asked conversationally.
“Excellent bit of deduction,” the Doctor said crisply then saluted the gathered Raxacoricofallapatorians. “Bye!”
And the three took to their heels, leaving the crowd completely baffled.
~*~
Their little group jogged through darkened streets and neighborhoods without attracting any attention, much to all of their relief. Martha was starting to get tired but didn’t complain as they continued to onward through the night.
“Are we getting any closer, Toran?” the Doctor asked, sounding winded.
“Not much further,” Toran answered, unbothered.
“I didn’t realize… I was so… out of shape,” Martha gasped to the Doctor as they ran.
He turned his head and grinned at her. “No. We’ve been running a long time, Martha. You’re doing just fine. If you were out of shape, you’d have thrown up by now.”
Up ahead, Toran came to a stop and waited for them to catch up. When they had, Martha and the Doctor both bent over double, hands resting on their knees as they panted.
“The house is right here,” Toran said, pointing to a dilapidated building. “We can rest here for tonight and then a group of us will help you get to your ship.”
“Fantastic,” the Doctor wheezed and stood up straight. “Ready to go inside, Martha?” He frowned in worry when she didn’t respond and crossed to her side. “Martha?”
She threw up on his shoes.
~*~
After Toran gave the secret knock, they were let into the house. The interior, though shabby, was nowhere near as bad as the exterior. A group of Raxicoricofallapatorians were gathered in one of the rooms around a pair sitting down and playing a game that looked a lot like chess.
“We live here away from society and try to fight Parliament when we can,” Toran explained, giving them the tour. “Well. Not literally fight. We’re strictly pacifists and organize demonstrations and mail out flyers.” He opened a door, revealing what looked like the toilet. There was a shower head stuck into the wall and a large commode off to the side and that was it. “Ah, here we are. We should clean up after all that rolling in rubbish.”
Martha and the Doctor stayed back as Toran turned on the shower head, which in proportion to his body was quite low, and let the hand fall into his claws which he then wiped all over his body and then shut the water off.
“No soap?” Martha asked, thinking that couldn’t be it for hygiene.
Toran blinked in surprise. “The soap is in the water.”
“You drink soap water?” Martha demanded.
“No.” Toran shook his head. “There are two different water lines: bathing water and drinking water. The bathing water already includes soap. It’s much better than having to buy soap whenever you run out.” He sighed and shook himself. “There. All clean. The water is yours.”
The Doctor glanced at the shower head. “Er, do you suppose we could get some towels?”
“Towels? Oh, to dry your bodies?” Toran sounded doubtful. “I suppose we have dish towels you can use. Hold on a moment.” He went back out into the house, leaving them alone.
“This is all a bit Spartan isn’t it?” Martha said, waving her hand.
“I think Spartans had a better system,” the Doctor mused. “That was a short shower. They’ll expect the same from us.”
“Who should go first?” Martha asked. “I don’t mind waiting if you go.”
“I don’t mind if you go,” the Doctor replied.
Toran arrived just then with a ridiculous amount of towels in his arm. “Actually, you’ll both have to go. I was just told that our daily allotment of soap water is almost out. Here, I’ve gotten you towels. I wasn’t sure which ones you would like so I brought them all for you to choose from. Safine is setting up beds for you so you can rest when you’re done.”
As Toran left, Martha didn’t think she’d absorbed anything after the news that she and the Doctor would have to shower together. Slack-jawed she looked over at the Doctor to see how he was taking it.
“White towels seem best, don’t they? That way you can tell if they’re clean or not.” He lifted up a stained towel. “This one I’m guessing is not.” He tossed it aside and continued to sort.
“Are we actually going to shower together?” Martha asked, not believing that she was the only one having a difficult time absorbing this.
He glanced up at her. “If we want one, it looks like we’re going to have to.” He settled on a yellow towel and set it aside before standing up and shrugging off his jacket.
“But… isn’t that…?”
“Isn’t it what?” He tugged off his sweater and his undershirt and then she was staring at his chest. Doctor chest. And, goodness me, there he was undoing his trousers.
“Surreal?” she said weakly, unable to look away.
The Doctor looked up from kicking off his shoes and peeling off his socks. “Well, catch up. I don’t want to stand around cold and starkers waiting for you.”
For some reason that made her insides twist. The Doctor wanted her to get naked. To take a shower, Martha. To shower, not because he wants to see you. It’s all about context. But still, her hands shook as she took off her jacket and slipped off her own shoes and socks.
Seeing that she was following suit, the Doctor continued to undress and Martha had to control her breathing so she didn’t faint. Rapidly de-clothing Doctor. Right here in front of her. All alone. And he hadn’t mentioned Rose once. It was like all of the dreams she’d been having since traveling regularly on the TARDIS.
Soon she was down to her underwear and she considered showering in them just for a bit of modesty. But when she looked at the Doctor again, he’d shed his underwear and stood before her nude. Gloriously nude. Her gaze traveled downward before she could tell it not to.
“Am I missing any bits?” the Doctor asked after a long moment of silence.
“None that I can see,” Martha murmured in a low tone. She looked back up into his eyes and he was staring at her, warmly.
“I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” he said, gently.
It was a kind offer. Realizing she was in her bra and pants in front of him was awkward enough and she almost took him up on it.
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” And she stripped off her black bra and matching little black pants.
The Doctor’s face remained carefully blank but he looked at her a second longer than could be considered polite. “Right. Let’s turn this soap water on and get clean.”
They both stood under the shower head and the Doctor switched the water on. Glorious, warm water sprayed down on them and Martha threw her head back and moaned. Clean. Oh clean was such a magnificent feeling. She rubbed the soapy water into her skin and hair, momentarily distracted from the now wet as well as naked Doctor standing beside her.
For five minutes she was able to enjoy herself before the water abruptly cut off.
“Oh!” she exclaimed and blinked up at the showerhead. “Well. How are we supposed to rinse off then after all that soap?”
The Doctor chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think they worry about that here.” He turned and went back to the stack of towels, picking up his preferred yellow one and rubbing at his head to get his close-cropped hair dry.
Martha followed and sifted through the pile, wishing she’d followed his example earlier by picking out a towel ahead of time. Naked, wet, and shivering was no fun. She finally decided on a purple towel and patted herself dry.
“I don’t really feel like putting those back on again,” she said, nodding at their pile of discarded clothes.
“So let’s not,” the Doctor said, wrapping the towel around his waist.
Martha’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Haven’t you ever slept in the nude? I do it all the time.”
“You do?” Somehow, she’d always pictured the Doctor in striped pajamas, fuzzy slippers, and a proper dressing gown. Possibly a nightcap.
He grinned. “Wouldn’t expect it, would you?” He nodded at their clothes. “Let’s gather these up and hang them up somewhere. They won’t smell any better tomorrow but once we’re in the TARDIS we can change.”
“I don’t have anything on the TARDIS,” Martha reminded him.
“I’m sure we could find you something,” he said, not saying that maybe one of the things could belong to Rose. It was like he knew that Rose was a sore spot for her and he’d avoided saying it to save her some grief.
Warmth flooded her chest and she stepped forward impulsively and kissed the corner of his mouth. She drew back and gazed up at his stunned face through her eyelashes.
“What was that for?” he finally managed to ask.
“For being kind,” she whispered.
A grin spread across his face. “I should make more of a habit of it, then.”
“I don’t think you could handle the consequences,” she teased.
“Bet I could,” he said back and started for the door.
“Couldn’t.”
“I could!”
“Not.”
“Oi!”
Giggling, she followed him out of the room and switched off the light.
~*`
Safine, who turned out to be Toran’s wife, had made little beds for them on the floor in one of the seldom-used rooms. Stacks of boxes had been pushed against the walls to make space and there was just enough for them to squeeze in, drop their towels, and scurry under their blankets.
“We’ll wake you early so we can eat before we leave,” Toran said. “Goodnight, my new friends.”
“Goodnight, Toran,” the Doctor said.
“Goodnight,” Martha echoed.
Toran closed the door, leaving them in darkness.
“Doctor?” Martha whispered.
“Yes?”
“What’s the food like here?”
“Not great but we’ll be hungry enough not to care.”
“Oh.” She shifted and tried to find a position on the lumpy mattress that was slightly comfortable. “Do you really sleep in the nude?”
“I do.” He sounded amused, which she took as a good sign that asking questions would be all right.
“Does anyone else know that?”
“Very few,” he answered.
“Is… does she-”
“Rose isn’t one of them.”
“Oh.” Martha felt herself blush, ashamed of herself for being jealous of someone she’d never even met and had no real reason to dislike, besides that she’d once been a good friend to this man she admired so much.
“We should sleep. When Toran said early he meant early.” She heard the sheets rustle as the Doctor turned onto his side.
“Can I ask just one more thing?” She gathered all of her courage together as he sighed.
“Just one more.”
“Do you like me?”
She heard him roll back to face her in the darkness. “What kind of a question is that?”
“The kind that requires an answer?” she said, uncertainly.
“Of course I like you! I don’t travel with anyone I don’t like! Well, there’s been a few exceptions but other than that, no, I don’t travel with anyone I dislike and I happen to like you, Martha Jones. You’re clever and funny and beautiful…”
She grinned to herself. “Oh, if I had a recording of that, I’d play it back every day.”
“You don’t need to. I’m going to remind you of all of that,” he said firmly.
“If you remember,” she muttered.
“I’ll remember. And I’ll remind you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that, mister.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
Smiling, Martha fell silent and closed her eyes, ready for sleep and maybe some pleasant dreams starring a certain someone.
< Chapter Four : Chapter Six >
Title: Chapter Five (5/?)
Author: toxic_corn
Rating: A bit R-ish.
Pairing: Martha/Nine
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC, not me.
Spoilers: For the first series up to "Boom Town" and the third series up to "Family of Blood."
Summary: A bit of a time crash and the Doctor finds himself with a new companion.
Notes: As requested by nutmeg610 for Christmas.
Late-night update so Nutmeg can see it tomorrow before she goes to school! :P
Chapter Five
As they fell through the air, Martha prayed that the waste management would break their fall. She wasn’t much of a praying woman and was out of practice but prayed she did.
But as they fell into the back of the truck and the pungent aroma of the refuse heaped around them filled her nostrils, she wondered if she really should have bothered.
“Everyone all right?” the Doctor asked, voice muffled. To her left, a mountain of rubbish shifted and he popped into view, his daffy grin on his face and a smear of Martha-didn’t-want-to-know-what on his cheek.
Toran sat up behind her. “I’m not injured,” he said in a tone that warned no one to ask if he was happy.
“Neither am I,” Martha said.
The Doctor looked at her in concern for a moment and then nodded. “Good. Neither am I. We should try to get out of her when we can. Torn, how far are we from your safe house?”
Toran lurched upright and slogged through the filth to peer over one of the sides of the vehicle. “Not too far. At the next intersection, we should disembark.”
“That won’t attract attention, will it?” Martha said, raising her eyebrows. “Two off-worlders and escaped prisoners popping out the back of a lorry?”
“You can stay here if you’d like,” the Doctor said and pointed across the way. “I’ll bet that hill of muck would be a fantastic spot for a bungalow.”
Martha had to giggle and pointed in the opposite direction. “And a summer home there!”
“That’s the idea!” The Doctor chuckled. Even with streaks of filth on his face, Martha wanted to lick him. Well. Maybe after he’d had a wash.
The lorry was slowing and the Doctor carefully got to his feet and held out a hand to help Martha up. He didn’t relinquish his hold as they mucked their way over to Toran.
“One at a time,” Toran said. The Doctor gently pushed Martha forward and Toran lifted her up to climb over the side. She took a quick look around and saw that not many Raxacoricofallapatorians were out in this neighborhood; she and her fellow escapees just might be able to flee unnoticed.
“Off worlder!”
Or not.
There weren’t any handholds so Martha had to slide down the back of the lorry, squealing in alarm the whole way. She’d have to get control before-
Her feet hit the bumper and the sudden stop made her entire body jerk. Before she could so much as say “bugger,” she was falling backward and her bum met the street, hard.
From her ungraceful position, she watched the Doctor slide down the back much the same as she had but instead, he slid a little further to the left so he had a grip on the lorry’s side, therefore controlling the speed of his slide. He was able to step off the bumper when he reached it without any problems.
“Martha, are you-?” His brow furrowed at seeing her sitting in the road. She quickly jumped up and gritted her teeth as her ass started to twinge in protest.
“Fine,” she gritted out. “But I think we’ve been spotted.”
An audience had started to gather and the Doctor looked grim. “I think you’re right.”
Toran suddenly leapt out of the back of the vehicle and landed in a neat crouch beside the Doctor. “I take it we’ll be running now?” he asked conversationally.
“Excellent bit of deduction,” the Doctor said crisply then saluted the gathered Raxacoricofallapatorians. “Bye!”
And the three took to their heels, leaving the crowd completely baffled.
Their little group jogged through darkened streets and neighborhoods without attracting any attention, much to all of their relief. Martha was starting to get tired but didn’t complain as they continued to onward through the night.
“Are we getting any closer, Toran?” the Doctor asked, sounding winded.
“Not much further,” Toran answered, unbothered.
“I didn’t realize… I was so… out of shape,” Martha gasped to the Doctor as they ran.
He turned his head and grinned at her. “No. We’ve been running a long time, Martha. You’re doing just fine. If you were out of shape, you’d have thrown up by now.”
Up ahead, Toran came to a stop and waited for them to catch up. When they had, Martha and the Doctor both bent over double, hands resting on their knees as they panted.
“The house is right here,” Toran said, pointing to a dilapidated building. “We can rest here for tonight and then a group of us will help you get to your ship.”
“Fantastic,” the Doctor wheezed and stood up straight. “Ready to go inside, Martha?” He frowned in worry when she didn’t respond and crossed to her side. “Martha?”
She threw up on his shoes.
After Toran gave the secret knock, they were let into the house. The interior, though shabby, was nowhere near as bad as the exterior. A group of Raxicoricofallapatorians were gathered in one of the rooms around a pair sitting down and playing a game that looked a lot like chess.
“We live here away from society and try to fight Parliament when we can,” Toran explained, giving them the tour. “Well. Not literally fight. We’re strictly pacifists and organize demonstrations and mail out flyers.” He opened a door, revealing what looked like the toilet. There was a shower head stuck into the wall and a large commode off to the side and that was it. “Ah, here we are. We should clean up after all that rolling in rubbish.”
Martha and the Doctor stayed back as Toran turned on the shower head, which in proportion to his body was quite low, and let the hand fall into his claws which he then wiped all over his body and then shut the water off.
“No soap?” Martha asked, thinking that couldn’t be it for hygiene.
Toran blinked in surprise. “The soap is in the water.”
“You drink soap water?” Martha demanded.
“No.” Toran shook his head. “There are two different water lines: bathing water and drinking water. The bathing water already includes soap. It’s much better than having to buy soap whenever you run out.” He sighed and shook himself. “There. All clean. The water is yours.”
The Doctor glanced at the shower head. “Er, do you suppose we could get some towels?”
“Towels? Oh, to dry your bodies?” Toran sounded doubtful. “I suppose we have dish towels you can use. Hold on a moment.” He went back out into the house, leaving them alone.
“This is all a bit Spartan isn’t it?” Martha said, waving her hand.
“I think Spartans had a better system,” the Doctor mused. “That was a short shower. They’ll expect the same from us.”
“Who should go first?” Martha asked. “I don’t mind waiting if you go.”
“I don’t mind if you go,” the Doctor replied.
Toran arrived just then with a ridiculous amount of towels in his arm. “Actually, you’ll both have to go. I was just told that our daily allotment of soap water is almost out. Here, I’ve gotten you towels. I wasn’t sure which ones you would like so I brought them all for you to choose from. Safine is setting up beds for you so you can rest when you’re done.”
As Toran left, Martha didn’t think she’d absorbed anything after the news that she and the Doctor would have to shower together. Slack-jawed she looked over at the Doctor to see how he was taking it.
“White towels seem best, don’t they? That way you can tell if they’re clean or not.” He lifted up a stained towel. “This one I’m guessing is not.” He tossed it aside and continued to sort.
“Are we actually going to shower together?” Martha asked, not believing that she was the only one having a difficult time absorbing this.
He glanced up at her. “If we want one, it looks like we’re going to have to.” He settled on a yellow towel and set it aside before standing up and shrugging off his jacket.
“But… isn’t that…?”
“Isn’t it what?” He tugged off his sweater and his undershirt and then she was staring at his chest. Doctor chest. And, goodness me, there he was undoing his trousers.
“Surreal?” she said weakly, unable to look away.
The Doctor looked up from kicking off his shoes and peeling off his socks. “Well, catch up. I don’t want to stand around cold and starkers waiting for you.”
For some reason that made her insides twist. The Doctor wanted her to get naked. To take a shower, Martha. To shower, not because he wants to see you. It’s all about context. But still, her hands shook as she took off her jacket and slipped off her own shoes and socks.
Seeing that she was following suit, the Doctor continued to undress and Martha had to control her breathing so she didn’t faint. Rapidly de-clothing Doctor. Right here in front of her. All alone. And he hadn’t mentioned Rose once. It was like all of the dreams she’d been having since traveling regularly on the TARDIS.
Soon she was down to her underwear and she considered showering in them just for a bit of modesty. But when she looked at the Doctor again, he’d shed his underwear and stood before her nude. Gloriously nude. Her gaze traveled downward before she could tell it not to.
“Am I missing any bits?” the Doctor asked after a long moment of silence.
“None that I can see,” Martha murmured in a low tone. She looked back up into his eyes and he was staring at her, warmly.
“I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” he said, gently.
It was a kind offer. Realizing she was in her bra and pants in front of him was awkward enough and she almost took him up on it.
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” And she stripped off her black bra and matching little black pants.
The Doctor’s face remained carefully blank but he looked at her a second longer than could be considered polite. “Right. Let’s turn this soap water on and get clean.”
They both stood under the shower head and the Doctor switched the water on. Glorious, warm water sprayed down on them and Martha threw her head back and moaned. Clean. Oh clean was such a magnificent feeling. She rubbed the soapy water into her skin and hair, momentarily distracted from the now wet as well as naked Doctor standing beside her.
For five minutes she was able to enjoy herself before the water abruptly cut off.
“Oh!” she exclaimed and blinked up at the showerhead. “Well. How are we supposed to rinse off then after all that soap?”
The Doctor chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think they worry about that here.” He turned and went back to the stack of towels, picking up his preferred yellow one and rubbing at his head to get his close-cropped hair dry.
Martha followed and sifted through the pile, wishing she’d followed his example earlier by picking out a towel ahead of time. Naked, wet, and shivering was no fun. She finally decided on a purple towel and patted herself dry.
“I don’t really feel like putting those back on again,” she said, nodding at their pile of discarded clothes.
“So let’s not,” the Doctor said, wrapping the towel around his waist.
Martha’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Haven’t you ever slept in the nude? I do it all the time.”
“You do?” Somehow, she’d always pictured the Doctor in striped pajamas, fuzzy slippers, and a proper dressing gown. Possibly a nightcap.
He grinned. “Wouldn’t expect it, would you?” He nodded at their clothes. “Let’s gather these up and hang them up somewhere. They won’t smell any better tomorrow but once we’re in the TARDIS we can change.”
“I don’t have anything on the TARDIS,” Martha reminded him.
“I’m sure we could find you something,” he said, not saying that maybe one of the things could belong to Rose. It was like he knew that Rose was a sore spot for her and he’d avoided saying it to save her some grief.
Warmth flooded her chest and she stepped forward impulsively and kissed the corner of his mouth. She drew back and gazed up at his stunned face through her eyelashes.
“What was that for?” he finally managed to ask.
“For being kind,” she whispered.
A grin spread across his face. “I should make more of a habit of it, then.”
“I don’t think you could handle the consequences,” she teased.
“Bet I could,” he said back and started for the door.
“Couldn’t.”
“I could!”
“Not.”
“Oi!”
Giggling, she followed him out of the room and switched off the light.
Safine, who turned out to be Toran’s wife, had made little beds for them on the floor in one of the seldom-used rooms. Stacks of boxes had been pushed against the walls to make space and there was just enough for them to squeeze in, drop their towels, and scurry under their blankets.
“We’ll wake you early so we can eat before we leave,” Toran said. “Goodnight, my new friends.”
“Goodnight, Toran,” the Doctor said.
“Goodnight,” Martha echoed.
Toran closed the door, leaving them in darkness.
“Doctor?” Martha whispered.
“Yes?”
“What’s the food like here?”
“Not great but we’ll be hungry enough not to care.”
“Oh.” She shifted and tried to find a position on the lumpy mattress that was slightly comfortable. “Do you really sleep in the nude?”
“I do.” He sounded amused, which she took as a good sign that asking questions would be all right.
“Does anyone else know that?”
“Very few,” he answered.
“Is… does she-”
“Rose isn’t one of them.”
“Oh.” Martha felt herself blush, ashamed of herself for being jealous of someone she’d never even met and had no real reason to dislike, besides that she’d once been a good friend to this man she admired so much.
“We should sleep. When Toran said early he meant early.” She heard the sheets rustle as the Doctor turned onto his side.
“Can I ask just one more thing?” She gathered all of her courage together as he sighed.
“Just one more.”
“Do you like me?”
She heard him roll back to face her in the darkness. “What kind of a question is that?”
“The kind that requires an answer?” she said, uncertainly.
“Of course I like you! I don’t travel with anyone I don’t like! Well, there’s been a few exceptions but other than that, no, I don’t travel with anyone I dislike and I happen to like you, Martha Jones. You’re clever and funny and beautiful…”
She grinned to herself. “Oh, if I had a recording of that, I’d play it back every day.”
“You don’t need to. I’m going to remind you of all of that,” he said firmly.
“If you remember,” she muttered.
“I’ll remember. And I’ll remind you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that, mister.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
Smiling, Martha fell silent and closed her eyes, ready for sleep and maybe some pleasant dreams starring a certain someone.
< Chapter Four : Chapter Six >
