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toxic_cornSeries: Yet Different
Title: Chapter Seven (7/?)
Author: toxic_corn
Rating: PG-13
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.
Check out the Round-Up Post for earlier chapters.
Chapter Seven
Martha spun once more, making her red gypsy-style skirt flare out around her. “This is so beautiful! Where did you get it?”
The Doctor stood near a rack of jackets, arms folded and smiling as he watched her. “It was an impulse buy. I took it home and stuffed it in the back there when I found out it clashed with my eyes.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Fine, keep your secrets. I like this one. And if raspberries fall on it, the stain won’t show.” Inspecting herself in the mirror, Martha beamed at her reflection, dressed in the skirt and a white blouse with flowing sleeves. She’d have to roll those up during breakfast so they wouldn’t drag in the cream but it had been too lovely to pass up.
“Better pick out a jacket as well,” the Doctor said, indicating the rack behind him. “Epsilon 17 is a bit chilly in the morning.”
Before breakfast, the Doctor was going to take their leather coats in to the cleaners. The Doctor seemed lost now without his coat, standing there in just a sweater with a peacoat folded over one of his arms. Martha felt the same way; she loved her red leather coat.
“All right then, if I must.” She went to the rack and started going through various jackets. “But I feel disloyal just so you know.”
“As you should,” the Doctor agreed with a nod.
Martha sent him a little grin and kept looking through the rack. It felt nice to tease him. Tish always accused Martha of being too serious but she was finding out that with prolonged contact with this Doctor, she was becoming sillier by the moment. It wasn’t exactly a bad thing, just different. She paused when she came across a long, brown coat and her smile faded as she looked at it.
“Oh, I like that one,” the Doctor said. “Janis Joplin gave me that coat.”
Wordlessly, Martha removed it from the rack and stared at it. Her Doctor had been wearing this when she’d last seen him. It had only been a day but it felt like years ago.
“So are you choosing that one, then?” the Doctor asked.
Martha was shaken out of her reverie and she blinked a few times. She looked up to see him looking at her expectantly and opened her mouth to say “no.” Instead she blurted out, “Yes, I like it too.” She quickly slipped it on and it felt as if her Doctor had just slid his arm around her shoulders. The thought made her shiver.
“About time. I thought you were never going to pick something.” The Doctor slid on the peacoat and grabbed her hand. “I’m starving.”
The bit of melancholy the coat had given her melted away when his big, warm hand enveloped hers. Hopefully the walk to the restaurant would take hours.
~*~
“Bof off deroffoff!”
The Doctor smiled slightly. “Try that again with less raspberry?”
Chastened, Martha swallowed her mouthful of raspberries and cream. “This is delicious!”
“I know,” he agreed, dipping his spoon into his bowl once more. “A good mark of an advanced society is fantastic raspberries.”
Martha beamed at him and took another bite, looking up eagerly as the waiter approached with their waffles.
“We’d also like some hot chocolate, please,” the Doctor said and the waiter nodded.
A little thought worried at the back of Martha’s mind and she set her spoon down. “Doctor, you never have any money. How are we going to pay for this?” She kept her voice down and sent a nervous look the waiter’s way but he appeared not to have heard as he stood back, hands folded neatly in front of him.
“What did I tell you before we walked through that door?” the Doctor asked, sounding amused. “I told you we could get a big breakfast here for a song.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t-”
The Doctor looked at the waiter. “Could we settle our bill now, please? The lady doesn’t believe me when I tell her how the transaction occurs.”
“Of course, sir.” From the waiter’s head sprouted two antennae which made Martha startle backward.
“Join in if you know the words,” the Doctor told her and then started to sing lustily, “I’d like to be under the sea in an octopus’s garden in the shade! He’d let us in, knows where we’ve been, in his octopus’s garden in the shade!”
Martha laughed. Abbey Road had been her father’s favorite album when she was a child and she and Theo liked this song the best. She joined in gleefully, knowing her singing was rubbish but so was his and it was all in good fun, right?
“I’d ask my friends to come and see an octopus’s garden with me! I’d like to be under the sea in an octopus’s garden in the shade!”
They made it through the whole song, Martha correcting the Doctor when he stumbled over a lyric here and there. When it was finished, the Epsilonians applauded politely and the waiter’s antennae retracted back into his head.
“That will be most sufficient. Thank you.” As he walked away, Martha looked at the Doctor, eyes wide and mouth open.
“That’s not an expression here? You really pay by song?”
“It’s where the expression came from,” the Doctor said and cut into his waffles. “I told myself when we were jumpin’ off that prison that if I survived, one of the first things I’d do is eat a stack of waffles.”
“I told myself to go on a date,” Martha replied without thinking. Her brain screamed in shock and she looked at the Doctor quickly, waiting for him to hastily change the subject as he always seemed to do whenever she made some remark about the two of them.
The Doctor was looking at her warmly, to her surprise. Right, this one’s different. A bit the same, yet different.. “Well, it looks like we both got our wish, then.”
“Oh, this isn’t a date,” Martha said, flustered.
“Isn’t it?” He pointed at her plate with his fork. “I bought you a meal, haven’t I? Held the door open for you?”
“Yes, but afterwards you aren’t going to take me back to my flat and try for a bit of kiss and fumble,” she said, trying to be funny.
The Doctor’s eyes twinkled. “The date isn’t over yet.”
Martha stared at him, unsure of how to respond and luckily didn’t have to because the restaurant fell silent. Curious, Martha looked behind her to see a regal woman all in white carrying a creature that looked like a cross between a parrot and poodle stroll in next to two burly men.
“Who’s that?” Martha whispered.
The Doctor didn’t answer but waved their waiter over. “Who’s that woman, mate?”
“Why, that’s Queen Elgaba III. She was elected High Consolate just last month. I’m astonished you haven’t heard of her sir; she’s caused quite the controversy since she’s taken office.”
“What’s she done then?” the Doctor asked.
“She wants Espsilon 17 to transer to a tangible currency. You see, song is very difficult to trade by on a universal market scale. She has our home’s best interest at heart.”
“Let me guess: you voted for her?”
“I did.”
Martha looked back at the woman who appeared to be no older than Martha herself. She was seated at a corner table and set the parrot/poodle creature next to her glass of water. Though Martha knew that judging by appearances wasn’t the wisest thing to do, she felt like the woman really did have the planet’s best interest at heart. Her smile was warm as she gave her order to the waiter and she tenderly stroked her pet’s head.
“Well this is a right bother,” the Doctor muttered and Martha turned back to the table to see him frowning as he poked at his waffles.
“What is?”
“No more songs. I get all my sonic screwdrivers here.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Yes. It’s a shame that an entire planet wanting to expand its economy inconveniences you.”
“Oi, don’t get cheeky!” Despite his words, he smiled.
They continued on with their meal, speaking every so often to remark on the view outside the window - the sun had just popped out of the clouds - or one of their fellow patrons when a shriek shattered their comfortable web.
It was the High Consulate and she was beside herself, wringing her hands. “Easafor! Oh, what’s become of Easafor? He was right here!”
One of the burly men stood and scanned the restaurant, his antennae sprouting up out of his head.
“Does she mean that weird little dog with feathers?” Martha asked the Doctor.
“A pelner. Yes.” The Doctor peered under the table and said to one of the guards passing by, “Not here, mate.”
Other diners looked under their tables to help but no one saw where the little pelner had disappeared to. The High Consulate continued to cry but she didn’t expect everyone to do the looking for her; she got up and searched the place herself.
The Doctor slapped his napkin down on the table with a sigh. “Well, we’d best go pick up our jackets before the currency changes. Come on, Martha.”
Martha looked back at the High Consulate and frowned. “I think we should stay and look.”
“It’s a small restaurant, I’m sure she’ll find it,” the Doctor said dismissively. “Pelners wander away all the time. It’s an attention ploy; once they’re found again they’re showered with love and affection from their owners. I’ve seen it before. Let’s go.”
Sighing, Martha stood as well. “Fine. But I feel badly about this.”
“And you’re a lovely person for it as well. Let’s go.” They headed for the door, slipping on their coats along the way when one of the guards stepped in front of them, putting a hand on the Doctor’s chest to stop him.
“Where do you think you two are going?” he grunted.
“Just to the cleaners. We have very special leather waiting for us there so if you don’t mind…?”
The guard pushed the Doctor back roughly, apparently minding. “You’re not going anywhere until the High Consulate finds her pelner. Either you sit back down or you help look. No one’s leavin’ til we find it.”
“All right, we’ll help.” The Doctor turned away and murmured to Martha, “There, see, you get your wish after all.”
“Good,” Martha said. “If this is a date, then I should get to do as I please.” She hurried away to help in the search so quickly that she missed the pleased grin on his face.
< Chapter Six : Chapter Eight >
Title: Chapter Seven (7/?)
Author: toxic_corn
Rating: PG-13
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.
Check out the Round-Up Post for earlier chapters.
Chapter Seven
Martha spun once more, making her red gypsy-style skirt flare out around her. “This is so beautiful! Where did you get it?”
The Doctor stood near a rack of jackets, arms folded and smiling as he watched her. “It was an impulse buy. I took it home and stuffed it in the back there when I found out it clashed with my eyes.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Fine, keep your secrets. I like this one. And if raspberries fall on it, the stain won’t show.” Inspecting herself in the mirror, Martha beamed at her reflection, dressed in the skirt and a white blouse with flowing sleeves. She’d have to roll those up during breakfast so they wouldn’t drag in the cream but it had been too lovely to pass up.
“Better pick out a jacket as well,” the Doctor said, indicating the rack behind him. “Epsilon 17 is a bit chilly in the morning.”
Before breakfast, the Doctor was going to take their leather coats in to the cleaners. The Doctor seemed lost now without his coat, standing there in just a sweater with a peacoat folded over one of his arms. Martha felt the same way; she loved her red leather coat.
“All right then, if I must.” She went to the rack and started going through various jackets. “But I feel disloyal just so you know.”
“As you should,” the Doctor agreed with a nod.
Martha sent him a little grin and kept looking through the rack. It felt nice to tease him. Tish always accused Martha of being too serious but she was finding out that with prolonged contact with this Doctor, she was becoming sillier by the moment. It wasn’t exactly a bad thing, just different. She paused when she came across a long, brown coat and her smile faded as she looked at it.
“Oh, I like that one,” the Doctor said. “Janis Joplin gave me that coat.”
Wordlessly, Martha removed it from the rack and stared at it. Her Doctor had been wearing this when she’d last seen him. It had only been a day but it felt like years ago.
“So are you choosing that one, then?” the Doctor asked.
Martha was shaken out of her reverie and she blinked a few times. She looked up to see him looking at her expectantly and opened her mouth to say “no.” Instead she blurted out, “Yes, I like it too.” She quickly slipped it on and it felt as if her Doctor had just slid his arm around her shoulders. The thought made her shiver.
“About time. I thought you were never going to pick something.” The Doctor slid on the peacoat and grabbed her hand. “I’m starving.”
The bit of melancholy the coat had given her melted away when his big, warm hand enveloped hers. Hopefully the walk to the restaurant would take hours.
“Bof off deroffoff!”
The Doctor smiled slightly. “Try that again with less raspberry?”
Chastened, Martha swallowed her mouthful of raspberries and cream. “This is delicious!”
“I know,” he agreed, dipping his spoon into his bowl once more. “A good mark of an advanced society is fantastic raspberries.”
Martha beamed at him and took another bite, looking up eagerly as the waiter approached with their waffles.
“We’d also like some hot chocolate, please,” the Doctor said and the waiter nodded.
A little thought worried at the back of Martha’s mind and she set her spoon down. “Doctor, you never have any money. How are we going to pay for this?” She kept her voice down and sent a nervous look the waiter’s way but he appeared not to have heard as he stood back, hands folded neatly in front of him.
“What did I tell you before we walked through that door?” the Doctor asked, sounding amused. “I told you we could get a big breakfast here for a song.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t-”
The Doctor looked at the waiter. “Could we settle our bill now, please? The lady doesn’t believe me when I tell her how the transaction occurs.”
“Of course, sir.” From the waiter’s head sprouted two antennae which made Martha startle backward.
“Join in if you know the words,” the Doctor told her and then started to sing lustily, “I’d like to be under the sea in an octopus’s garden in the shade! He’d let us in, knows where we’ve been, in his octopus’s garden in the shade!”
Martha laughed. Abbey Road had been her father’s favorite album when she was a child and she and Theo liked this song the best. She joined in gleefully, knowing her singing was rubbish but so was his and it was all in good fun, right?
“I’d ask my friends to come and see an octopus’s garden with me! I’d like to be under the sea in an octopus’s garden in the shade!”
They made it through the whole song, Martha correcting the Doctor when he stumbled over a lyric here and there. When it was finished, the Epsilonians applauded politely and the waiter’s antennae retracted back into his head.
“That will be most sufficient. Thank you.” As he walked away, Martha looked at the Doctor, eyes wide and mouth open.
“That’s not an expression here? You really pay by song?”
“It’s where the expression came from,” the Doctor said and cut into his waffles. “I told myself when we were jumpin’ off that prison that if I survived, one of the first things I’d do is eat a stack of waffles.”
“I told myself to go on a date,” Martha replied without thinking. Her brain screamed in shock and she looked at the Doctor quickly, waiting for him to hastily change the subject as he always seemed to do whenever she made some remark about the two of them.
The Doctor was looking at her warmly, to her surprise. Right, this one’s different. A bit the same, yet different.. “Well, it looks like we both got our wish, then.”
“Oh, this isn’t a date,” Martha said, flustered.
“Isn’t it?” He pointed at her plate with his fork. “I bought you a meal, haven’t I? Held the door open for you?”
“Yes, but afterwards you aren’t going to take me back to my flat and try for a bit of kiss and fumble,” she said, trying to be funny.
The Doctor’s eyes twinkled. “The date isn’t over yet.”
Martha stared at him, unsure of how to respond and luckily didn’t have to because the restaurant fell silent. Curious, Martha looked behind her to see a regal woman all in white carrying a creature that looked like a cross between a parrot and poodle stroll in next to two burly men.
“Who’s that?” Martha whispered.
The Doctor didn’t answer but waved their waiter over. “Who’s that woman, mate?”
“Why, that’s Queen Elgaba III. She was elected High Consolate just last month. I’m astonished you haven’t heard of her sir; she’s caused quite the controversy since she’s taken office.”
“What’s she done then?” the Doctor asked.
“She wants Espsilon 17 to transer to a tangible currency. You see, song is very difficult to trade by on a universal market scale. She has our home’s best interest at heart.”
“Let me guess: you voted for her?”
“I did.”
Martha looked back at the woman who appeared to be no older than Martha herself. She was seated at a corner table and set the parrot/poodle creature next to her glass of water. Though Martha knew that judging by appearances wasn’t the wisest thing to do, she felt like the woman really did have the planet’s best interest at heart. Her smile was warm as she gave her order to the waiter and she tenderly stroked her pet’s head.
“Well this is a right bother,” the Doctor muttered and Martha turned back to the table to see him frowning as he poked at his waffles.
“What is?”
“No more songs. I get all my sonic screwdrivers here.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Yes. It’s a shame that an entire planet wanting to expand its economy inconveniences you.”
“Oi, don’t get cheeky!” Despite his words, he smiled.
They continued on with their meal, speaking every so often to remark on the view outside the window - the sun had just popped out of the clouds - or one of their fellow patrons when a shriek shattered their comfortable web.
It was the High Consulate and she was beside herself, wringing her hands. “Easafor! Oh, what’s become of Easafor? He was right here!”
One of the burly men stood and scanned the restaurant, his antennae sprouting up out of his head.
“Does she mean that weird little dog with feathers?” Martha asked the Doctor.
“A pelner. Yes.” The Doctor peered under the table and said to one of the guards passing by, “Not here, mate.”
Other diners looked under their tables to help but no one saw where the little pelner had disappeared to. The High Consulate continued to cry but she didn’t expect everyone to do the looking for her; she got up and searched the place herself.
The Doctor slapped his napkin down on the table with a sigh. “Well, we’d best go pick up our jackets before the currency changes. Come on, Martha.”
Martha looked back at the High Consulate and frowned. “I think we should stay and look.”
“It’s a small restaurant, I’m sure she’ll find it,” the Doctor said dismissively. “Pelners wander away all the time. It’s an attention ploy; once they’re found again they’re showered with love and affection from their owners. I’ve seen it before. Let’s go.”
Sighing, Martha stood as well. “Fine. But I feel badly about this.”
“And you’re a lovely person for it as well. Let’s go.” They headed for the door, slipping on their coats along the way when one of the guards stepped in front of them, putting a hand on the Doctor’s chest to stop him.
“Where do you think you two are going?” he grunted.
“Just to the cleaners. We have very special leather waiting for us there so if you don’t mind…?”
The guard pushed the Doctor back roughly, apparently minding. “You’re not going anywhere until the High Consulate finds her pelner. Either you sit back down or you help look. No one’s leavin’ til we find it.”
“All right, we’ll help.” The Doctor turned away and murmured to Martha, “There, see, you get your wish after all.”
“Good,” Martha said. “If this is a date, then I should get to do as I please.” She hurried away to help in the search so quickly that she missed the pleased grin on his face.
< Chapter Six : Chapter Eight >
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Date: 2008-04-27 07:53 pm (UTC)And it's a daaaaaaaaaaaaaaate! WHEE! *twirls* And it's gotta end with makey-outiness and fumbling, yes? YES???
Yes. \:D/
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Date: 2008-04-27 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-27 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-09 04:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-10 07:43 pm (UTC)