A/N: This is set some time after "Family of Blood." Plenty of dark, brooding Doctor angst ahead, along with Doctor babble of a pseudo-scientific nature. Enjoy!

1. Blown off course again

"Did you ever want to study abroad, Martha?"

Martha looked up at the Doctor. He was looking at her over the top of his reading glasses, his hair spiked and his hands splayed all over the controls of his time machine.

"I guess I thought about it once or twice," Martha said, walking around the TARDIS console to join him. "Never did it, though. Easier to stay at home. Cheaper, and the schools are better anyway."

"Oh, you humans," the Doctor said, looking fondly at Martha with a smile that made her melt inside. "Cheaper, easier, and better anyway…sounds like the typical excuse to not do something that you really should be doing. Why do you always do the easy and cheap things? Sounds like an infomercial to me."

Martha blinked, tried to decipher the Doctor's rambling train of thought from school to infomercials, then gave up. "So, where're we going next?"

"One of my favorite universities in the universe," the Doctor said, walking around the console pulling levels, flicking switches, and turning dials. "The Massachusetts Institute of Technology, founded in 1861 by a man named William Barton Rogers…nice, smart guy, you'd like him. He created something as prestigious as Cambridge and as psychotic as, erm, Oxford physicists, I suppose. It's a great place."

"I'm sorry," Martha broke in, "but why do you want to visit a school?"

"Well, you have your exams coming up and all," the Doctor said, throwing one last lever. The TARDIS whirred, the central column activated. "Thought it'd be nice to get into the spirit of things."

"Right," Martha said quietly, mostly to herself. She was going to have to return to her old life eventually. It seemed rather distant after all she had been through with the Doctor. Distant and small. But if that was really why the Doctor wanted to visit a school…

"Do you want me to leave soon?" Martha asked bluntly.

"What?" The Doctor looked up at her from across the controls. "No! No, no, no, no, no…why do you ask that?"

Martha shifted uncomfortably. "I just thought—what with visiting MIT and all…"

"Oh, no, I love having you around," the Doctor said, and he seemed sincere about this. Martha met his dark eyes, and for a brief moment, he almost seemed to be begging her for something. Begging her to stay.

"Have you ever had liquid nitrogen ice cream?" the Doctor asked suddenly, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Students there make it. How creative is that? It's brilliant, really. And the pranks! I want to see the Wright flyer on the roof, myself. They just put stuff up there, on top of the big dome. No idea why or how, but I like their style."

"Is that where we're headed, then?" Martha shook her head. "Sorry. Is that when we're headed?"

"When we're headed…ah, I suppose it's necessary to make up phrases to live around me, then," the Doctor said appreciatively. "Yes, that's when we're headed. Two thousand and three, December seventeen, morning of."

Martha blinked. "But—hold on. I'll be nineteen in two thousand three."

The Doctor grinned at her, the green of the TARDIS casting almost psychotic shadows across his face. "Exciting, isn't it?"

"Won't that, I dunno, rip a hole through the fabric of space and time and destroy the Earth or something?" Martha asked.

"Well," the Doctor said, pausing and scratching the back of his head. "I suppose it could, if you met yourself and caused a nasty paradox."

"Isn't that a stupid risk, then?" Martha asked.

"You said you never studied abroad, right?" the Doctor asked as he leaned against the console.

"Well, no—"

"Been to America at all?"

"Just with you in nineteen thirty, I s'pose—"

"Well, all right, then," the Doctor said, springing up and going to the display screen. "There's a nice big puddle called the Atlantic Ocean between you and you. We'll be fine!"

"I don't think we're ever really 'fine,' exactly," Martha corrected him.

The Doctor chose to ignore this comment. "Aha! We've landed," he said, bounding down the ramp and grabbing his long overcoat.

Martha loved how the TARDIS seemed to sigh every time they materialized somewhere, as if it were a wife who knew her husband never learned from previous mistakes. It sighed now as the column in the middle stopped moving, and she followed him to the door, getting her own red coat as she went.

"It's an okay city, Boston," the Doctor said as he opened the door with a creak. "MIT is in a grungier part, but that's all right. I think it's actually named after Cambridge. Hmm. See that nice architecture? Brilliant. I love this place."

Martha blinked as they emerged into the sunlight. Across a small road from them was a huge neo-classical building, complete with columns and lettering with Vs for Us. It was decidedly more impressive than her London-based medical school. The buildings were all grand and tall, and in the middle of them was a small park, green and leafy. Capping the whole scene before them was a dome…and there was nothing on it.

"Doctor?" Martha interrupted his rambling.

"Seems quiet today, for Boston, usually more cars and the like, I think…"

Martha's eyes widened as an old-fashioned car rolled past at a leisurely pace. "Doctor?"

"It is nice and green, though, quite lovely, really…I just love colleges, you'll have to show me yours some time…wish I could show you mine…"

"Doctor!" Martha insisted.

"Hmm? Yes?" the Doctor asked, scratching his ear as he looked down at her.

"Is that the dome you were talking about?" Martha asked.

The Doctor squinted in the sunlight up ahead. "Why, yes it is. Oh, they must have taken the plane down already. I hear the authorities have a special squad set up to remove the pranks. Shall we try to catch it a bit earlier, then? Or maybe we could see the police car instead."

"Doctor, I don't think this is two thousand three," Martha suggested.

Another old car puttered by.

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath. "That was a…Ford Model T or something like it. Make around…oh, nineteen thirty-two."

"Nineteen thirty-two?" Martha asked. "A bit off from two thousand and three. Hey, wait—I could run into myself here!"

"We didn't come anywhere near Boston," the Doctor said dismissively. "And that was nineteen thirty, not nineteen thirty-two."

"Whatever," Martha said, looking around. "So this is still the Great Depression. Why do you keep bringing me here?"

"I don't mean to!" the Doctor said defensively. "It's not always up to me where we go, exactly."

"I forgot, you can't control your ship," Martha said.

"Yeah, there's lots of buildings missing that should be here," the Doctor mused, ignoring that comment. He turned and walked around the TARDIS. "Oh, lovely view, at least!"

Martha joined him at the edge of a grand river. They had appeared close to a long bridge, and an unrecognizable city lay across the wide expanse. It didn't look like a modern city at all; there were one or two high-rises, or something approaching that, but the town looked old-fashioned to Martha's eyes.

The Doctor and Martha watched as a few boats went by in the calm water. Then the Doctor turned to Martha and grinned. "Well, let's just take a look anyway, shall we?"

The Doctor and Martha crossed the street and entered the grounds of the university, looking around at the immensity of it.

"Look, up there," the Doctor said, pointing. Martha looked up. "Buildings dedicated to great minds in science. Newton, Lavoisier, Faraday…isn't that neat?"

"Don't see any women," Martha said after a moment of looking around the tall buildings with names carved into them. She started lifting her feet higher off the ground to avoid the glistening dew of the grass that was soaking into her sneakers.

"Aww…yeah, you're right," the Doctor said. "Kind of funny, really. A tribute to great minds while leaving the greatest ones out. What a pre-enlightened age."

"Did you just say women are smarter?" Martha asked.

"Did I?" the Doctor asked airily. "Well, I s'pose you can figure it out if I did, then."

The two continued walking across the courtyard, the Doctor with his hands in his pockets and Martha still scanning the names on the buildings for women scientists and feeling offended. It was pleasant outside, with a bright sun shining and the air feeling crisp.

They wandered all the way to the end of the green courtyard, up a short set of stairs and into the shade of the columned entrance to the central, domed building. Martha nodded toward the prominent glass doors in the middle of the stone platform.

"Shall we go in?" Martha asked.

"I don't see why not," the Doctor said. "Private university and all. Probably don't expect people who don't belong to just walk up to the front door like this." He pulled on the door handle. "Yep, open. In we go!"

It was much cooler inside. Martha looked around. It was musty, and everything was unfinished. The grandeur of the outside was only hinted at on the inside; the ceiling was tall and nice-looking, but the walls were bare and the floor was covered with stray bits of wood and dust.

"I guess they're not quite finished building yet," Martha said, waving dust away from her face.

"These things take time," the Doctor said. "It's still the Depression, after all. It's a wonder anyone had the money around this time to build all this."

"Time and money…sounds like an infomercial," Martha joked.

The Doctor spun on his heel to stare at her oddly. "Infomercial? Honestly, Martha, I don't know how your mind works sometimes."

Martha shook her head as she fell into step beside the Doctor. They started walking down a long corridor together, alone except for a few crazed-looking souls. Older men in long coats and enormous glasses walked back and forth, across hallways and occasionally passing the two of them furtively.

"Looks like you blend right in," Martha observed. She glared at him. "I don't."

"I'm sorry!" the Doctor said. "Odd, there's no students around. Did we arrive in summer?"

The moment the words left his mouth, a rush of younger-looking people, all men and mostly white, flowed out of doors and down from staircases. Martha attracted quite a few stares and even some whistles. Furious, she pushed the Doctor into an alcove by a door to have a talk with him.

"I'm sick of this, Doctor," she told him, jabbing a finger in his face. "I know it's all part of this time-traveling bit, but—"

"I am really sorry," the Doctor said, gently taking the hand she was pointing at him in his own. "I am, I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better, Rose often had these problems too."

"Oh, your ex-girlfriend," Martha said. "I feel loads better."

The Doctor hung his head and sighed. "I really did want to take you somewhere fun after that month in nineteen thirteen. See some sites, eat some ice cream, hang out with some lunatics your own age, take off."

"Then why are we still here?" Martha asked. "When you know what it's going to be like?"

"Because—" The Doctor broke off, running his other hand through his hair. "Look, you know the TARDIS is alive, right?"

"Yeah, you mentioned that."

"Well, she's usually got a reason for steering me slightly off course," the Doctor said haltingly, as if imparting a great secret.

Martha stared. "I wish I'd had an excuse like that when I was learning to drive."

The Doctor squeezed her hand. "Let's just walk around for a bit. Like I said, it's a pre-enlightened age. Stick close to me, and don't bite too many heads off when they whistle at you. Think of it as a compliment, yeah?"

Martha sighed. "All right—ahh!"

The door by which they were standing swung open suddenly, making Martha jump back and hit her head on the wall.

"Sorry I startled you!" A man in his early thirties stepped out, closing the door behind him. The Doctor emerged from his side of the alcove where the door had hit, holding his nose.

"Sorry about that," the man said. He looked between them. "Are you students?"

"Gah," the Doctor said thickly, shaking his head. "No, I'm Dr. John Smith, visiting professor from Cambridge and this is my associate, Martha Jones." He flashed his psychic paper for a moment before shoving it away. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Dr. Van de Graaff," the man said.

Martha and the Doctor exchanged excited looks. "Dr. Robert J. Van de Graaff?" the Doctor asked. "Inventor of the Van de Graaff generator? Thing that makes your hair stand up? You're making the big one right now, right?"

"That's me," Dr. Van de Graaff said quietly, locking the door behind him.

"You don't sound very excited about that," the Doctor observed.

"Well, it's been a nightmare for the past few weeks," Van de Graaff explained as they pushed through the crowd of students. "We've been moving the big machine to campus, and we're having some problems."

"Well," the Doctor said, grinning at Martha. "Maybe we can help."

A/N: See you next week for 40-foot-tall generators that make the Doctor's hair stand up even more! Plus angst galore!