That whispered name, her name, had haunted her for years on end. Even though she knew the voice had long-vanished, it still had the tendency to ring in her ears. sleep was fitful anymore, as every night she had to tell herself that the Doctor was gone and he was never coming back. She'd finally managed to overcome the nightly ritual of crying herself to sleep; she knew the Doctor would've wanted her to stay strong. Even so, he was never off her mind, not one moment.
She met many more guys while living in Pete's World. Some were parallels of lads she'd met before, while others were entirely strangers. 99 of them (Earl had a grudge because she never returned his calls) were continually captivated by the blonde-haired, hazel-eyed beauty. Sure, she still went out on dates (the Doctor would want her to have a life, not just stay home planted in front of the telly), but she never had a steady boyfriend.
Then there was Mickey. The man was still hanging on, bless his heart. Daily came to visit Rose, her parents, and the new baby (they'd named him Jonathan). About once a month he would propose marriage to her, saying in the gentlest way possible that the Doctor was long gone and she had to learn how to just let go. She found his reasoning sensible and his flattery sweet, but every month she politely turned him down.
He's coming back, she told herself in the morning while catching the bus to her job at the shop, in the afternoon while eating her lunch (fish and chips, an apple, a banana milkshake), and at night, just before crawling into bed. It became almost like a prayer to her, that one last shred of hope that she could cling to. Having a bad day? Don't worry, he's coming back. Get into a fight with Mom about her overuse of the telephone? No sweat, he's coming back.
And if he's not coming back, then I'll just find a way to get to him. No way that day at Bad Wolf Bay was the last time I'd see him. Absolutely no way.
Martha Jones walked boredly down the busy city streets, humming a tune she was fond of. All that she had in store was another long day at work, a few phone calls over trivial things with various family members, then last-minute planning for her brother's 21st birthday party the following night. That was sure to be a night she'd never forget.
As she walked past the hospital and towards the main doors, she happened to see a custodian scrubbing furiously at the wall, trying to clean off recent graffiti. She could just barely make out the words "Bad Wolf". A gang based on a little childhood tale? How silly! She gave the tag one last confused glance before continuing on her way.
The Judoon had long been trailing the woman that was suspected to have killed the princess they were supposed to be guarding. Who would've known that taking a break one night (because one of them had a "very important date") would mean placing the girl's life into that insane woman's hands? Of course, they didn't want anyone to find out they'd been slacking off - it would ruin their intergalatic reputation of being swift to action and ultimately reliable. So they set off to find this lady that calls herself "Missus Finnegan", using the excuse that they'd gotten leads relating to the universe-wide rampage of a notorious criminal.
Their search hit quite a few dead ends, as they stopped planet-by-planet, inquiring about a plasmavore on the loose. Finally, on the planet of Barcelona, they encountered a friendly native that knew many-a-rumor concerning her current location.
"She's probably on Earth," the creature droned lazily, taking its time pronouncing every syllable. "Plenty of people to hide among. Billions of idiotic humans bumbling about with their daily trials, too distracted to notice if suddenly a small foreign aircraft was to land nearby. There are so many of them, they take for granted that they'll always be seeing yet another unfamiliar face. Plus, they're filled with fatty blood, something this Finnegan character would never be able to resist. I'm almost certain you'll find her on this planet. Perhaps, if my guess is correct, at one of their primitive medical stations.
"Excellent," one of the Judoon replied in the language of the Barcelonian, having assimilated to fit their way of speech. "Thank you for your assistance. It is much appreciated."
For two days now, they'd carefully been surrounding the suspected hospital with "static electricity" (as the earthlings called it). Just one more day, and they would be able to transport the entire facility to neutral territory. But which moon to pick? They didn't want to alarm the easily-troubled humans by taking them too far out of sight of their home. So they chose the local moon, orbiting carelessly around the earth, as their target landing place.
The stage was set. Finnegan would be punished, and no other harm would be done unless absolutely necessary. Little did they know that their method of transport was fairly dangerous to the state of time and space itself. Their beams surrounding the hospital had been programmed just a few feet too wide (surprising, considering you'd assume that logical creatures would also be skilled at mathematics). Because of this, a tiny hole was ripped between universes, which would close once the hospital landed successfully upon the moon. Not big enough for any creatures of danger to get through - no Cybermen, no Daleks or their ships.
But it was just big enough to allow one human, on one day, complete access to walk between worlds.