Gone Fishing

Author's Note: Takes place between The Deadly Assassin and The Face of Evil for the Doctor and between Last of the Time Lords and working for UNIT for Martha.

Martha Jones sat cross-legged on the ground, enjoying the beautiful summer day. The stillness of the day was interrupted only by the birdsong that filled the air. She eyed the fishing pole held lightly in her hand, then the still pond before her.

Fishing? She hadn't been since before she was in her early teens. Usually it was her brother, Leo, or even her sister, Tish, who took fishing pole in hand and, with friends, disappeared for a day. Not her! How had she allowed herself to be talked into this?

Her eyes surrendipiously slid to the person who lay stretched out beside her. His fishing pole was leaning against a rock, a gentle hand resting so lightly on the handle she wondered how he would even know if he had a bite. She realized, of course, that it wasn't actually catching anything that always mattered, but just having the chance to get away from it all and unwind.

And unwind was exactly what her fishing buddy was doing. His long body seemed quite relaxed from the tips of his shoes to the top of his extremely curly head, on which sat a felt-like hat tipped forward to it covered his eyes. The back of his head was pillowed by a medium-sized rock. Judging by the soft, even breathing, she would say he was fast asleep.

Martha turned her head to study him further. He was dressed unusually, but not overly so, if one managed to discount the extremely lengthy and multicolored knitted scarf strung in wide loops about his neck. He wore a long-sleeved, white shirt, covered by a vest and a short-length, dark brown jacket. An odd-looking object hung from his neck under the scarf--the key to his TARDIS. It was much different than the Yale key she had grown used to seeing. On the ground beside his free hand lay a crumpled bag she knew contained his beloved Jelly Babies.

She smiled slightly, recalling how she'd come to be on this fishing excursion...

It wasn't the voice so much as it was what the person in question was asking for that caught Martha Jones's attention. After a long, hard shift at the hospital--one that left her tired and, quite frankly, depressed--she'd stopped in a sweetshop to buy a little something to, well, maybe not cheer her up completely, but to treat herself. She wasn't really looking at any one thing when she heard the booming, albeit friendly, voice asking the sales clerk for Jelly Babies.

A brief memory flitted through her mind; she smiled slightly before catching herself. She was ready to dismiss the voice completely when she heard him answer a query by the person behind the counter.

"Just give me the whole lot, but fill this bag up first, there's a good chap."

Curious now, Martha glanced at the main counter. From her vantage point, she could see him in profile. There stood a tall, broad-shouldered man, wearing what appeared to be a very long scarf about his neck. So long, in fact, it would have dragged the ground if not for the fact it was loosely looped several times around his neck; as it was, the fringed edges brushed the ground. Despite the heat of the day, he wore several layers of clothing, including a waist-length jacket. His hair was a mass of curls.

She tilted her head, her long hair brushing across her shoulders. There was something about this unusually dressed stranger that was familiar to her. She felt she knew him. Somehow. But where? Certainly, she would remember such a bloke. Wouldn't she?

For some reason, her thoughts reminded her of the losses she'd had that day at the hospital and the life of galactic travelling that was no longer hers. Suddenly, Martha didn't feel like having any sweets. She quietly left the shop, leaving the strange man to his Jelly Babies. Once out in the sunlight, she found a bench, dropped into it. She sighed heavily, depressed, and stared at the ground.

A shadow crossed over her. Startled, Martha looked up, only to find herself looking into the friendly face of the man from the shop. He now wore a floppy, felt hat on his head.

"Pardon me, but you look like you could use a Jelly Baby." The man's deep voice was almost sympathetic, and certainly not unpleasant on the ear. He held out a ragged-looking paper sack.

"Excuse me?"

"I saw you in the shop there," he explained with a quick gesture towards the sweetshop, "and thought to myself that here was somebody who could use some cheering up. Jelly Babies might not cure everything, but it's a start." He grinned hugely, his dark eyes twinkling mischieviously.

The look in his eyes was strangely familiar. Quickly, she stood, the whole scenario was beginning to shake her; she thought that after her travels in the TARDIS, she was pretty stable when it came to the weird stuff. "I should be going."

The man's face fell into a pout. "Not even one?" He offered the bag of candies again.

"I really don't have time--"

"Nonesense!" he stated, perturbed. "There's always time for a Jelly Baby!" As if to prove his point, he pulled one out of the bag, popped it into his mouth and chewed. He swallowed quickly. "I know just the thing to cheer you up! How would you like to go fishing?" He grinned. "I know the perfect spot! It'll be fun, just you. Me. The fish."

Martha gaped at him. Was he coming on to her? Of all the arrogant-- she started to think when,again, that feeling of familiarity washed over her. Before she could stop herself, she found herself asking, "Who are you?"

He raised his hat in greeting. "I'm the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Martha repeated, taken aback.

Then it sunk in, why he'd seemed so familiar to her, despite his vastly different looks. Before their capture on the Valiant, while on the run from the Master, the Doctor she'd traveled with had explained regeneration to her--this after her query as to how the Master could look like an older man at the end of the universe (as Professor Yana) then a much younger man as the Prime Minister back in England. This overly-dressed, wild-haired stranger was obviously, since he didn't recognize her, a previous incarnation of the Time Lord she knew. "The Doctor?"

His eyebrows rose at the emphasis. "Do I know you?" he asked cautiously.

"Not yet," she answered, finally helping herself to one of the pro-offered Jelly Babies.

"Ah," he stated simply, his eyes filled with understanding, "I see."

"I'm sure you do." She couldn't help saluting him slightly with the sweet.

He watched as she popped the treat into her mouth. Suddenly, he was all energy and crackling personality. Not so different from her "version" of the Doctor, she noted. "Well, I'm sure we'll get along famously, whenever we finally meet." He plunked his hat back onto his curls and gestured with his head. "Still interested in that fishing trip? As I said, I know the perfect spot."

"On Earth?"

"Well, yes," the Doctor admitted, "but it's a very good spot." He flashed her a reassuring grin.

Martha figured she was as entitled to a good time as much as anybody, responsibilities be damned! Of course, she admitted to herself, the responsibilities weren't life-threatening, so she could justify the break.

She reached into his sweetsbag, pulled out another Jelly Baby. "Okay, let's go!" She started to walk away, then paused, looking back at him. "The TARDIS is this way?" At his nod, she strode forward.

"Oh, I can see why I allow you to come along," the Doctor muttered to himself, pocketing the treats as he followed.

The Doctor allowed Martha to proceed him into the TARDIS. She looked around, surprised to see the control room was so different than what she was used to. For one thing, there was no ramp that led to the main console, the doors opened to a small landing, with some steps that led onto the main floor of a room that was bland and tiny compared to the coral-strutted, open space her Doctor used. The walls looked like dark woodgrain-covered rondales, a few of the rondales having intricate patterns in them. The floor was solid, not grated, with none of the TARDIS's inner workings readily visible or seemingly accessible. Wood furniture sat by the wall on one side

The console was not the cobbled bits and bobs she was used to seeing, but looked more like a six-sided desk, each "side" having a pull-down door with a handle. A gold railing rimmed the top of the small console. Four evenly-spaced wood bannisters circled the console, giving the pilot a choice of access points. The oddest feature to Martha was the lack of a time rotor in the center of the console, which was the focal point of the TARDIS she was familiar with. There was another door across from the main door that Martha assumed led into the rest of the vastness that was the TARDIS.

The TARDIS hummed happily when they stepped inside.

"Well, now," the Doctor stated, tossing his hat on top of the console, "you've made quite an impression on her. She doesn't react like that to very many people."

"She knows me? But, I'm in her future." She glanced at the tall Gallifreyan. "Aren't I?"

"TARDISes are complex beings. Past, present, future, they can see things beyond even their pilots sometimes."

"Let me guess. Timey-whimey stuff."

"Well," the Doctor shrugged, "if you want to use the technical term, yes."

He strode over to the console, pulling open doors to punch at buttons and adjust dials and knobs. He moved from one side of the six-sided control panel to the other, his movements swift but relaxed, not the "dance" Martha associated with her Doctor. For one, this version of the Doctor wasn't as lanky; for another, if he started to dance around the console, this Doctor would more than likely trip over that lengthy scarf or tumble over the railing, so tight was the space about the control panels. When the TARDIS seemed to bulk at one point, he laid a heavy fist on her console. "Come on, old girl!"

The Doctor leaned forward, murmuring. Martha's eyebrows rose as he ran a gentle hand along the railing atop the console. Somethings never changed, she realized, recalling how often she'd caught her incarnation doing the same thing.

"Will it take long to get there?"

The Doctor straightened. "Not at all. It's just a quick hop, after all."

"Where have I heard that before?" she challenged. "Or is the TARDIS more reliable these days?"

"Shh, shh, she didn't mean it," the Doctor patted the console reassuringly. He picked up an edge of the scarf and wiped at a small monitor.

"At least your relationship with the TARDIS hasn't changed--"

The Doctor quickly stepped to her side. He glanced around, then stated, as if imparting a great secret,"I'd be careful what you say about your time. One can know too much about one's future, can't one?"

Startled, it took the young doctor a moment to answer warily, "If you say so."

"I do."

"Sorry."

"Right!" He stepped back, mood once again relaxed. "No harm done. This is supposed to be a cheery trip, not all grumpy and important!"

The TARDIS chose that moment to land, preventing Martha from having to answer. As the Doctor moved over to the console, he said, "A quick hop! See! Nothing to it!" He pushed a button and a panel slid up from the wall opposite the main door. A large viewing screen showed what Martha figured was outside the TARDIS: a small pond, green grass, blue sky, wispy clouds.

"Looks lovely."

"Just what the Doctor ordered!"

"Both of us," Martha couldn't help muttering.

The Doctor snatched his hat from the top of the wooden console, plunked it down on his head, then started for the main door.

"Are you forgetting something?" the human doctor asked.

He paused to look askance at her. "Am I?"

"Um, fishing poles?"

"Well of course, fishing poles!" he stated importantly. "Not much good fishing without them, is it?" He didn't give her a chance to answer as he continued, "Of course it isn't! Not unless you want to try chucking spears or something! Not very relaxing, that, chucking spears about, wouldn't you say?"

"No, of course not!" She nodded emphatically.

"Of course not!" He nodded quickly before turning on his heel, stalking across the room to go through the door that led to the rest of the timeship.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Martha thought she heard a hum of agreement from the TARDIS. I've missed you, my friend, even if technically we still haven't met yet. A warm feeling washed through her, making Martha smile. It didn't seem to matter to the timeship. She knew Martha, no matter where in their timeline she was.

The smile faded as the door reopened, revealing the Doctor clutching two fishing poles in one hand, a tackle box in the other. "Let's go, then!"

And so here they were, fishing. And relaxing. Martha had no doubt that if something urgent came up, that this regeneration would be as quick to jump feet-first into trouble as hers. No matter what he looked like on the outside, deep inside, he was still the same.

The thought made her smile.

The Doctor suddenly raised his hand, tipping his hat back on his head enough so she could see his eyes. So, not asleep, then. "It worked, I see," he stated simply.

"What worked?"

"You're smiling. I knew all you needed was a fishing trip to brighten up your day!"

Martha grinned happily. "Yes, it worked. Thank you." She adjusted the grip on her fishing pole. "You know, in many ways, you're like the Doc--the you I travelled with. Will travel with. In the future. Oh, you know what I mean."

"I should certainly hope so." He grinned widely. He picked up the bag, held it out. "Jelly Baby?"

"Don't mind if I do." She took one of the treats, put it into her mouth.

The Doctor set the bag down. The sack rustled as he helped himself to one of the candies, popped it into his mouth. He returned his hat over his eyes and resumed his relaxed position.

Martha chewed thoughtfully as she enjoyed the peace and quiet. It turned out to be not such a bad day, afterall.

3/8/09