Martha Jones was not having a good day.
Martha Jones was not having a good month.
She had thought it would be simple. Way back when the whole escapade had started, she had been more than eager to help protect the Doctor however she could. Now, as she walked on through the foggy morning, she struggled not to cry. It would have been easier had she been anyone else…someone who wasn't poor, little, lovesick Martha. If she didn't feel so hurt every time he looked past her and through her, it would be much simpler. If he would finally do something so terrible that she wouldn't feel the way she did for him, the days might go by faster.
She took in a deep breath and exhaled, letting her thoughts float away with the little cloud. Only a couple more yards and she'd be to her destination. Usually she was able to sneak off on Sunday mornings and spend some time with the TARDIS but someone had noticed that Martha hadn't been to church. Martha was sure it had been Nurse Redfern who had told the Doctor…or John Smith as he was now. The two had been becoming awfully close lately. Martha could see that the woman was absolutely smitten and John Smith was noticing the Nurse more every day….and you less every day.
The small church rose up ahead and suddenly the path had carried her right up to the door. Her small, dark hand reached out to grasp the cold handle. It would be cold inside too, this early in the morning. Martha had to come early in order to take her place on the second floor with the rest of the hired help from the area. She marveled how used to being insignificant she had become. There were slips now and then of course, but usually she was able to keep her eyes on the ground, where most around here expected them to be. All the while inside she raged at each injustice, but somehow she kept quiet. You keep quiet because he's here and he needs you.
She wiped away the moisture in her eyes quickly and ascended the worn stairs leading to her place. Martha dreaded the idea of sitting in the drafty place on a hard-backed chair and listening to the mumbled murmurings of an old, country parson. Everything in this area was quiet and slow; the church service was no exception. She'd much rather be with the TARDIS, hands caressing the controls, ears listening carefully to the list of instructions she'd memorized long ago. You just listen to hear his voice, to hear his voice speaking to you as if you're a real person. And always listening most to the warmth and kindness there at the end when he says "Thank you".
"He'll never love you," she muttered bitterly and took a seat even as the regular parishioners began to fill the space below her. Other hired help entered, some nodded at her in recognition, others raised eyebrows. Even among the lowest circle there were those who turned up their noses when they saw Martha. She'd never been more aware of the color of her skin…there were the endless comments from the boys at the school and the snide glances of teachers. If she hadn't found a friend in Jenny she probably would have gone mad. You're already mad…mad as a hatter thinking someone like the Doctor would love you.
"Oh shut up," she told her mental voice, ignoring the stares around her.
The organ music began in its off-tune way and soon the service itself began. All Martha thought about was the shock of brown hair she could see down below. The thin figure sat with perfect posture on the cold pew. She knew his dark eyes would be moving back and forth, watching the boys in his charge as they all tried to warble along with the choir. She saw the familiar hand reach out and smack one of the small shoulders. The rebellious boy sighed and looked back at his hymnal.
Martha smiled broadly even as she knew thought obsession was verging on the ludicrous. The service didn't seem to go by as slowly as she would have thought. It might have been because the Doctor was there to watch, or it might have been because there was something about the words coming out of the musty old man's mouth. She knew they would sound better coming from the Doctor's mouth. Oh stop it! Seriously this is going to far…
"Love suffers long and is kind," the man began. That's for sure, Martha thought of her own aching emotions.
"Love does not envy…" the monotonous voice did not dampen the words. At the word envy a picture of Nurse Redfern was clear in Martha's mind.
"Love does not parade itself, is not puffed up…" Well I'm certainly covering that part of the definition. If scrubbing floors all day isn't humble, I don't know what is.
The description went on and Martha found herself leaning forward in her chair, eager to hear the rest. There was something in the words that stirred a feeling inside that Martha had long since thought dead…hope. Here were the traits of perfect love listed without ado or fuss. It was simply what it was. Each word brought separate memories alive in her mind. The first decision to run with the Doctor, the times he'd come storming after her, the times she'd cried herself to sleep at night and thought herself a silly, little girl. She had tried so hard not to let the Doctor see that vulnerable part of her, the part that was so very different from the grown-up physician in-training.
"…bears all things…" a single tear slid from her eye to chin and then dripped silently onto her lap.
"…believes all things…" a shaky breath took flight from her lips.
"…hopes all things…" eyelashes from top and bottom lids embraced in a moment of reflection.
"…endures all things." The corners of her mouth drew upward in a quiet expression of victory.
"Love never fails."
Martha Jones was having a very good day.
AN: Well there it is! My first Dr. Who fanfic. I hope you all enjoyed it, and in case anyone is wondering, yes I do like Martha/Dr. Who. I think it's sad that everyone feels the need to go around bashing her...after all it's not her fault she isn't Rose ;)
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Dr. Who in any way, shape or form. I'd be writing episodes if I did, not fanfic ;)