ONE
"Doctor, suddenly they don't look very happy with us," Martha said edgily, starting to step backwards toward the Doctor slowly.
"Eh? Oh, er, yeah," he realised, turning and looking at the crowd of small black beings, blinking up at them. He noticed them starting to bunch up and open coats, producing small items that looked suspiciously like weapons.
"So… time to go?" she asked quickly.
"Yep!" he said hastily, reaching out and grabbing her elbow. They turned and ran.
Small buildings and straw huts whooshed past them, other short black beings waved at them to stop, but they noticed none of this. They pounded down the dirt track, Martha slightly behind. He appeared to slow as they spotted the TARDIS sitting all by herself, starkly blue in the yellow corn field.
"What are you doing?" she shouted as he nearly stopped, pushing his hands into each of his pockets frantically. "Run!"
"Go!" he called as she overtook him. She didn't look, just ran for her life, flailing through the hip-high corn without a second thought. The crowd of black aliens were thankfully far behind, their shorter legs hindering their chase somewhat.
Martha hit the door of the TARDIS and breathed a hasty sigh of relief. She pushed on the door. It didn't open. She scrabbled for the chain wound round the inside zip of her jacket, trying to yank out her key.
"I'm coming!" he shouted from way behind her, and she turned and watched him barrel through the corn, trying to jump slightly over it and yet run at the same time. He was yanking something from his brown trouser pocket as he ran.
Suddenly he stopped and disappeared into the corn.
"Doctor!" she shouted accusingly.
"Yeah!" he called back, invisible, then abruptly straightened again, waving his right hand at her. "Key!" he cried happily, running toward her again.
He stopped and jammed the key into the lock as Martha turned and found several black aliens pointing small sling-shots at them.
"We're going to get stoned," she said warningly.
"There!" he called, pushing the door open and grabbing her by the shoulder, hauling her in and slamming the door.
They heard a battering on the outside of the door of the TARDIS.
"Oi! Get off my ship!" he called angrily even as he ran to the console. He yanked on some levers and then reached over for another one. "Martha Jones!" he called suddenly, "Push that one!"
The TARDIS lurched sideways and she grabbed the console to steady her.
"What was that?" she demanded, reaching for the button he was still angrily gesturing at.
"They're TARDIS-tipping!" he cried. "Now push it!"
The TARDIS rocked again much more violently. It slammed back down on the ground hard enough for Martha to lose her footing. She clutched at the console to pull herself upright, reaching for the button which was now out of reach. She stretched as the TARDIS lifted and bumped back down again, hard.
Suddenly she had a queasy feeling of not being entirely sure where the ceiling was. She toppled off-balance and fell. She managed to protect her head as she was thrown to the floor. She put her hands to it immediately, getting to her knees. She found the grating was no longer on the floor but on the wall. She heard the sound of grinding metal and smashing glass, something crunching in a bad way.
"Oh my god! Are we –"
"Push – it!" he shouted clearly from somewhere behind her. She turned in the direction where the console had been. She gasped and rose to her feet on what used to be the wall but was now the floor. The console, now sticking out of the wall at a ninety-degree angle to her, did not look well.
She jumped to reach it, finding herself too short. She flung herself up and felt her fingers slap at the button. The Time Rotor rose slowly, then sank and stopped.
"It's not working!" she called urgently.
The Doctor slithered round to his feet, somewhere behind her. He found himself upright and rushed over. He stopped underneath the Time Rotor as it stuck out of the wall toward his head. He jumped up with a fist and simply banged the underside.
The Time Rotor started, coughed, then began to run properly. They were thrown off their feet, sliding down the wall and banging into the real floor again as the TARDIS slowly righted herself. She barrelled down the Time Vortex at top speed.
Martha sighed and rolled onto her front slowly, lifting herself up on her elbows to look around. Parts and loose items she had never even noticed were now strewn left, right and centre, small pieces of what looked suspiciously like junk littering the grating that was now safely back on the floor.
"Doctor?" she managed, looking round. She couldn't see him, and there was a long silence. "Doctor!" she called more loudly.
"Martha-. M-. Martha Jones?" he croaked, then coughed unexpectedly.
"I'm alright. You?" she asked urgently, and there was a long pause. She pushed herself to her knees, looking round. "Oi!" she prompted, getting to her feet slowly, dusting of her arms.
"Mostly," he admitted, but she heard a slight wheeze as his head appeared at knee-height round the console leg. He found her already on her feet and looked up at her from his hands and knees. "Oh," he said shortly to himself, putting his hand up and grabbing at the console, using it to get his feet under him.
"Did you bang your head?" she asked quickly, noticing the red pattern of grating pressed into his left temple.
"I think so," he said vaguely, rubbing the opposite side of his head slightly. "Still, all sorted now, eh?" he added, wiping his face. She huffed and then dusted herself down slowly.
"What set them off like that?" she asked. He hesitated, putting his hands out as if for balance curiously. She waited, confused, and he appeared to think about it. Then he let his hands drop, looking up at her again.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, and she had a strange feeling he wasn't even in the same room, attention-wise.
"Why did those little people get so angry so suddenly?" she asked clearly.
"I think it was the jeans," he said unexpectedly, sniffing and letting one hand slide into his pocket. His other went to his head, rubbing the back of it painfully.
"They don't like jeans?" she dared, looking down at her clean ones.
"They don't like cotton," he said simply, walking back round the other side of the console, peeling his long coat off finally and throwing it over a beam. "Or blue."
"I see," she said. "But I thought you said Gellerites were these quiet, happy people," she said. He appeared to ignore her and she thought about it. "Doctor?" she prompted.
"Hmm? What?" he asked innocently. She let her eyes narrow slightly, then just let it go.
"I said I thought the little Gellerites were happy people who didn't go round shooting at tourists," she said, more slowly.
He lifted his gaze from the console, about to say something, and then stopped abruptly. She watched his gaze land somewhere in the air above her head, and his eyes glaze slightly. He put a hand up slowly, and she waited, intrigued.
"Can you feel that?" he whispered.
"No," she said, and he 'sh'ed her quickly, looking round the room carefully. She waited.
"And that?" he whispered. She simply shook her head this time. He blinked and looked at her. "Did you get a good look at what those evil little jelly babies chucked at us?" he asked.
"No. It looked like small rocks, though. Although…" She bit her lip, trying to think clearly. "They were a bit round. And… I think they were brown. You know, like… I just assumed they were rocks, but… they were a bit light brown," she said slowly, thinking. He 'hmm'ed, then just sniffed and ran his hands back through his hair.
"Well, whatever, we're pretty much back to normal, I think," he said, looking down at the console and nodding. "Although… I can only imagine the stuff that will need picking up." His head snapped up quickly, surprising her with its speed. "I can't believe they tipped us!" he cried angrily. "Little –"
"Yeah well. We did kinda barge in and –"
"And what? All I tried to do was buy some tea!" he protested, waving his hands over the console airily. "Honestly! I just wanted the large packet! What kind of shopkeeper doesn't sell the largest one that's plainly on display?" he shouted, apparently at no-one. She blinked, surprised.
"Talking of tea," she said slowly, "I think we could both do with some while you get us where we're going. Which is where?" she asked.
"Hmm, what?" he said suddenly, as if only just aware she was talking.
"Where are we going?" she asked slowly, watching him. He rubbed his head and hissed, then looked up at her.
"Well, I thought –"
He stopped abruptly, putting both hands out for balance again. He looked at her, his eyes wide in fear, or perhaps surprise.
"What?" she asked. "What can you feel that I can't?"
"Power surge. No – power drain. No – power… something," he breathed to himself curiously. He looked around slowly, then found his hands out and pulled them back quickly, putting them in his pockets.
"Right," she said quietly. "So we need to get somewhere to check her out, yeah?" she hazarded.
"She's not right," he said quietly, thinking and letting his tongue slide over his top teeth slowly. "She's not right."
"Well then… take us somewhere safe we can see to her," she reiterated. His wandering gaze shifted back to Martha.
"Yeah," he breathed, but he didn't sound too sure.
"I'll get the tea on," she said, backing away slowly, still watching him.
"Yeah," he said, completely pre-occupied, and she turned and walked off, toward the galley.