The Importance of Being the Doctor
Summary: For a bit of lightness, the Doctor and Martha are reliving one of the most famous Oscar Wilde plays…comedy of manners, TARDIS style! Implied TenMartha
Author's Note: Ah, the Doctor and Oscar Wilde…this just might be a perfect match. Please read and review! (This may or may not be a oneshot.)
Disclaimer: The BBC owns the good old Doctor, but Oscar Wilde is public domain…I think!
The Doctor, wearing his glasses, stood before the console and had just flipped a switch and twisted a knob to set the coordinates of their next destination in preparation for their imminent departure. Martha had just sat down on the seat, but then she quickly jumped up again with a yelp; after a moment, she grimaced and sighed, bending down to pick up what had been left lying on the seat. She examined it for a moment, curious, and then frowned. The Doctor turned around, his forehead creased with bewilderment as he wondered what the fuss was about, but then he saw what she was holding up in her right hand and a big wide grin crossed his face.
"Doctor," Martha murmured, "Do you happen to know anyone by the name of S-"
"My sonic screwdriver!" The Doctor exclaimed. "I thought I had dropped it back at the London Eye, almost considered having Scotland Yard investigate for its whereabouts and offering a big reward as well for its return."
"Would you still offer a reward?" Martha queried.
"Not when the thing is found," the Doctor scoffed. "Now come on, hand it over."
"I noticed an inscription," Martha suddenly remarked, stepping off towards the side.
The Doctor frowned. "You shouldn't have read it."
Martha laughed. "As I've noticed, half of the cultures all across the universe depend on what one shouldn't read. Never thought the Doctor would get involved in all of that censorship."
The Doctor sighed and stepped towards her. "That isn't the sort of thing to talk of in private, Martha, I simply want you to give me back my sonic screwdriver. I might need it."
Martha turned and took a few steps to the side, rotating the sonic screwdriver in her hand. "Are you sure? According to the inscription on this sonic screwdriver, it's a present from someone named Susan."
"Well…" The Doctor bit his lip and swayed a little, trying to recall just what that inscription had said; it had been awhile since he had read it. "If you want to know, Susan happens to be…my aunt."
Martha blinked. "Your aunt!"
The Doctor quickly nodded. "Yeah, she was a charming old lady. Lived in the Ice Galaxy of Sector 12. Just give it back to me, Martha."
Martha glanced down at the sonic screwdriver and read: "From little Susan with her fondest love to her dear grandfather."
The Doctor winced. "Ah, yes…well, that is true. She gave me my first sonic screwdriver with that inscription, but even when that device had been destroyed, some parts of the casing remained…including the one with that inscription on it. Every time my sonic screwdriver might break and I would have to make a new one, I would always salvage that one scrap of the casing so that the inscription would stick around with me. She…she's gone, now, but at least I have that memento."
"Oh…I'm sorry, Doctor," Martha told him as she handed over the sonic screwdriver. "I shouldn't have messed around with you."
"Quite right," the Doctor replied as he accepted the sonic screwdriver back and tucked it back into his pocket. "You are hardly serious enough."
Martha arched her eyebrows. "I am hardly serious enough?"
"Yes, especially when I don't know whether you will be able to understand my motives in the scheme of things. As the last Time Lord, I am placed in the position of a guardian and so I have to adopt a high moral tone on all subjects. It is my duty as the Doctor and that, my dear Martha, is the whole truth plain and simple."
"The truth is rarely plain and simple," Martha retorted. "Life would be very tedious if it were either and literature a complete impossibility, now that's something I learned from Shakespeare! You may have your duty, Doctor, but you are still a…a Bunbury! You are the most advanced Bunbury I know of!"
"What?"
"Your name," Martha insisted. "Last year, whenever I wanted to get out of the house and away from Mum and Dad's arguments, I invented a permanent invalid at the hospital called Bunbury. Bunbury is perfectly invaluable. If it wasn't for Bunbury's bad extraordinary bad health, for instance, I wouldn't have been able to meet Barry at the pub."
"Barry?" The Doctor frowned. "Who was Barry?"
"Never mind him, he's ancient history. In any case, let us skip going back to my mum's house and go somewhere else to eat tonight-how about ancient Rome?"
"No, you had much better dine with your mother tonight. I wouldn't want Francine to get angry."
"I haven't the smallest intention of doing anything of the kind," Martha informed him. "I dined there last month, once a month is quite enough to dine with my family."
"For heaven's sake, Martha," the Doctor said as he turned back to the main console. "Don't try to be cynical. It's perfectly easy to be cynical."
Martha walked back to chair and sat down. "My dear Doctor, it isn't easy to be anything nowadays. There's such a lot of beastly competition about for most people…except for you. Even if you are a confirmed Bunbury, nobody else could be like the Doctor."
The Doctor chuckled and pulled back the lever as he shouted, "Dear me, you are smart!"
As the central column started to pulsate and the TARDIS took off into the vortex, Martha yelled, "I am always smart!" After they landed in front of Francine's house, however, Martha got a little serious. "I hope you will behave well."
The Doctor, who was putting on his coat, smiled at her. "Well, I am feeling very well."
Martha shrugged and walked over towards the doors. "That's not quite the same thing. In fact, those two things rarely go together, but we might as well settle for feeling very well when it's for the best."