"No, no, she's not an invention!" Martha's head screamed. "You loved her, you love her, can't you remember?" And the thought burned through her head, bringing with it very real pain, for Martha had done a very good job of not entertaining thoughts of her Doctor with Rose.

"He's not my Doctor." Martha didn't know which was worse: the Doctor seeing her as a paler version of Rose Tyler, or John Smith not seeing her at all, except when she interrupted him with that schoolmarm.

"You are not my Doctor!" the voice behind Martha's blank face shouted in despair.