Preoccupied

She'd catch him sometimes, sat cross legged on the console room floor, completely still like he was posing for a photograph. His hand would be hovering over something he was about to take to pieces or fix. She'd watch him for a while, absorbing every detail. Often it took only seconds, occasionally minutes, but he'd always feel her gaze. The moment he saw her, he would babble away about aliens, planets, science, William Shakespeare, intergalactic relations …anything but what he was really thinking. She always noticed the tears streaked across his cheeks and his dutiful hand sweeping them away. These were the times the Doctor stopped acting. When he was the closest to being human an alien from Gallifrey could get. These were the moments Martha wished she was Rose Tyler instead.