When the Doctor Was a Doctor
Chapter One: Martha Jones: Man Killer
A Doctor Who Fanfiction by ThatOneWhovian
Disclaimer: Anything you may recognized does not belong to me. I mean, if I owned anyone in this story I don't think I'd be here.
He wasn't your average doctor.
Normal didn't cut it.
Normality? PFFT. That was an unknown subject to him.
All though, domesticity wasn't too bad. He rather enjoyed it.
Especially since he was enjoying it with his beloved. Her name was Rose.
She was delicate, and gentle. She was really sweet smelling too. And, in all honesty, really did smell of roses. She had gorgeous brown eyes that sometimes showed a hint of gold in them, and beautiful, medium sized blonde hair with brown roots. She had a gorgeous pearly white smile, a heart-fluttering laugh, and an amazing gentleness to all of her. I guess you could say that she was the bee's knees.
He sighed in content. He could always get lost in his thoughts of Rose. She was always breath-taking, and so warm and fuzzy that his heart just spilled over in love for that woman. And the greatest thing? She was a nurse at the hospital he worked in. And the other greatest thing about all of this? She was his wife.
Basically, he was yanked from his thoughts of Rose when he heard a nearby intercom bellow.
"Dr. John Smith, please report to nurse's station on level 2-A." he heard the intercom say.
"Oi! I just came from there. Lord, help those women." He grumbled, stopping in his tracks and heading back towards his destination.
Dr. John Smith wasn't your normal doctor. He was far from normal. Almost as far as the galaxy reached. Actually even farther.
He was a tall, lean man with the perfect amount of athleticism for his frame. He has a beautiful mess of brown hair that was always styled perfectly and precise. His eyes were a dark, chocolate brown that held all kinds of emotions in certain times of his life. They were drop-dead gorgeous. One signature thing about this man was his smile, it could light up a whole room. His grin was just as gorgeous, and complemented him well.
His sense of style wasn't like a normal doctor's either. He wore a white dress shirt, along with a long black tie which matched his trousers. They were also long and black, but barely hid his shoes which were always a pair of trainers. He always had different ones for each outfit he wore. Today it was his black and white pair. Along with this dashing outfit was a long and flowy white doctor's coat, and he always carried along his black-rimmed glasses, or what were known as his 'brainy specs'. He was the true definition of 'geek chic'.
He continued his short journey down to the nurse's station and arrived just as Donna walked in with a weary looking patient. As he passed the red-head he nodded his hello to her, which she returned back with a clear smile.
He looked to the patient who seemed to be very much in pain. It seemed at least. He sworn he had seen that woman before. Come to think of it he had. Oh, Martha Jones, she never failed to find something wrong with her each day.
He walked up to the nurse's station, shaking his head in pity. He knew he was bloody handsome, and had a trail of women fancying him, but he never thought that one such as Martha would succumb to this sort of thing.
He arrived at the counter of the station, setting his clipboard down on his left, then propping his head on his hands while his elbows bore the counter. He hummed contently, waiting for the nurse that called him to address him.
When he saw the blond woman turn and meet his gaze he smiled. His beloved Rose.
"Hello, Mrs. Smith. Do what do I owe the honour of having been called down to this lovely station?" He asked dreamily.
"Well, Doctor," she began "For one, you forgot something." She said handing him a silver, pen-like object with a light blue tip. "And another," she said, taking a clipboard Donna had left into her hands and handing it to him for a look over, "You have another patient. By the name of Martha Jones."
"Martha Jones, the man killer? Oh, joyous. Sounds lovely. What's the complaint this time?"
"Shut up." She said, laughing a quirky laugh then answering his question "She's complaining of chest pains."
"Around what area?"
"Well it's all right there, written in blue ink."
"But why would I read ink, when I could hear you speak, my dear?"
She laughed off his compliment, and continued. "Just read it, it's not like I'm the woman in question."
"You're very correct, love. You actually have my heart. And my last name. And my ring bestowed upon your finger." He replied with a cheeky smirk.
"Just go do your job." She said, lightly pushing him off the desk, and giggling. She also handed him his clipboard. "There you are, Doctor. Have fun with Martha." She said, leaning across the desk and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Meet you around noon for lunch?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Fish and chips again?" He said, slowly walking away facing backwards.
"Oh yeah, sounds brilliant. See you later, Doctor. And good luck." Before she turned, she winked, then returned to her work.
"Why, thank you, Rose!" And he turned, walking away correctly.
~
Reception. It was a bustling area with many people roaming. Sometimes it was nurses in scrubs, and a lot of the time it was patients.
He had come through here on his way onto the nurse's station, and saw the lovely Donna Noble.
Donna Noble was the cover person for sass. She was a fiery red-head, with a quaint loveliness in her. She could be quite darling, unless you either annoyed her or angered her. She was a brilliant receptionist and could handle many people at a time, always trying her hardest and minding everyone who came through her doors.
The Doctor had noticed her sitting down the patient that was written in his forms he was currently carrying, but he had forgotten where she put her. So he strolled up to the reception desk.
He knocked on the side lightly, getting Donna's attention.
"Oh, 'ello Dr. Smith. And just what can I do for you?" Donna asked, sounding genuine.
"Well, Donna Noble, if you could kindly point me towards a one, Martha Jones, we could have this problem solved fairly quickly." He replied, grinning at her with that devilishly dashing smile.
"Well, Doctor, I think she's over there."
She pointed towards the window where an African-American woman with black hair sat, gently holding her chest. Ah, Martha Jones.
"It's that man killer, Martha Jones, innit?" Donna asked, looking over the Doctor's side.
"Yeah. She fancies me, for some odd reason." He said smugly.
"Oi, don't be smug."
"Well, I can't help that most of the nurses, and patients that frequent this facility fancy me."
"Well still, smugness is rude."
"Well, I am rude. Rude and not ginger." He grumbled under his breath.
"Go get your patient." Donna advised. "You too, have to do your job, just like the rest of us."
"Alright, alright, fine. Thanks for the lovely chat, Donna. It's always a pleasure."
"And same to you, Doctor." She replied, and waved him off.
~
"Ah, excuse me, miss. Martha Jones, by any chance?" He said, carefully, walking up to the woman.
"Ah, yes. Hello Dr. Smith. Wonderful to see you again." Martha, greeted him, quite strong actually, but then she gripped her chest once more.
"So, Ms. Jones, what seems to be the problem? (This time)" he asked, going into 'Doctor' mode.
"It's my chest, you see." She said, patting her chest. "Feels like someone's just...'dunno...Dropping a house on my chest."
"Well, that sounds awfully painful, I'm sorry you feel that way, Ms. Jones. If you'll follow me into my office we'll get you all checked out, and see if we can get you feeling better." He said, flipping out his brainy specs and propping them on the bridge of his nose.
"Yes, alright, Doctor." Martha replied, standing up and grabbing her coat, and purse.
They then started walking back towards the Doctor's office. On the way they both passed the nurse area that Rose is stationed at.
When they passed, the Doctor smiled, kissed his index and middle finger, and blew it her way to which she threw her hand up and clasped it together. She giggled lightly, then looked to Martha trailing behind him. She swore that she saw a slow, and menacing smile creep onto her face.
Rose knew Martha's game though.
Oh, yes, she knew.
But Rose was going to be the winner.
Author's Note: Yes. This is happening. This is just a story that randomly popped into my head. I hope you enjoying it very much. I'll try to post as much as I can. Please review! Constructive criticism is always welcomed!
