A/N: I wrote this in response to a prompt on Livejournal (LJ community "museteasers") It takes place during "The Lazarus Experiment" just after the Doctor comes back, but before they go the party. Ever notice how he gets there in broad daylight and in the next scene it's suddenly night? What ever did they do during all that time? ;)
LJ Prompt: "Completely Oblivious"
He changes faster than her, stepping out of the TARDIS in an old, handsome tux from the back of the wardrobe. There's more parts to it than a dress, more shirts to put on, pants to put on, a jacket over it with a tie that still needs to be straightened, yet for some reason, she's still not ready and he is. It's a mystery, he decides, why women- particularly human women- take so long to get ready for something, and though he could spend endless amounts of time contemplating the reason behind this, he drops it and decides to focus on more important matters.
Those matters, of course, being finding a kettle, a mug and a tea bag.
Her kitchen is just as messy as the rest of her flat. There's a sink full of dishes next to the stove, with various keys, papers, folders and assorted other trinkets scattered over the counter next to the magnet and photo covered fridge to the right of the doorway. The kettle, despite the chaos of the room, is not particularly hard to find. She had apparently either started to make herself a cup before leaving for the alley they had met in, or had succeeded, but forgotten to empty to kettle. He emptied it, filled it with fresh water from the tap, turned on the stove, and put it on.
"Doctor?"
He turned. Martha stood in the doorway to the kitchen, fully dressed, and apparently very ready to go. She tapped her purple-heeled shoes on the floor in a rhythm the he thought he had heard before, but couldn't quite place where. He was about to contemplate this when she spoke again. "What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Aren't we going to the party? Professor Lazarus, my sister, changing what it means to be human, and all that?"
"Yes, course we are."
"Then why are you standing in my kitchen making tea?" She smiles, that annoyingly smug smile that only Martha can pull off when she thinks she's gotten the better of him. She hasn't, this time, but he can't help feeling the need to be defensive anyway. She has that effect on him.
"Well…" he begins, stuttering, scratching the back of his neck nervously, "I figured we had time, the party doesn't start for another forty-five minutes, and I'd rather not have to go in and get the psychic paper if you can just get us in for free, so I thought, in the meantime, why not have a cup of tea?" He grins, hoping she'll accept this answer and not press him for more. He's telling the truth this time, for once, and hopes she won't interrogate him about something that isn't there. She grins back.
"Works for me."
"Good." He turns, looking for a tea bag.
"So what do you think?"
"What?" There's no tea in the cabinet above the stove, which is the logical place he assumes, being the closest to the typical location of the kettle. It's strange how organized she is normally, compared to the complete disorganization of her flat.
"What do you think?" she repeats. He sighs.
"I think you need to label your cabinets,"
"I don't mean about the cabinets."
"Then what do you mean?"
"I mean me,"
"What?" He whirls around, still holding a box of sugar cubes he picked up from the overhead cabinet, "What about you?"
"My clothes," she says, "My dress, how do they look, how do I look?" She bends one knee and puts a hand on her hip, striking a pose. He looks her over, top to bottom, headband to high heels. She winks, and gives a slightly cheeky grin.
"I think you look fine," he says, "Fine for tonight, it's black tie, isn't it?"
"Yeah," she answers, her expression falling, "Is that all?"
"What? Is that all the sugar? There's more in the cabinet," he turns, and goes to open the open the cabinet he found the sugar in. She grabs his arm before he can.
"No," she says, looking straight at him, some bizarre emotion in her eyes he can't quite place, "I mean is that all about me, is that all you want to say?"
"Is there anything else to say?" he asks, "You look fine, I promise they won't laugh at you,"
"No, that's not what I…" she trails off, her face falling, looking nervous and unsure as she watches his own expression become more and more puzzled, "Never mind," she says finally, "Just…never mind,"
She releases him and walks out of the kitchen, a sad look in her eyes, as she lies about needing to call a friend about something. He stands briefly in the center of the kitchen, sugar cubes in hand, and wonders if he should ask what's wrong, but in the end he decides to leave it a mystery. He puts away the sugar cubes and finds the tea bags on the counter.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 826