1This story takes place after "Family of Blood", in between that episode and just before "Blink." There will be references to various companions, episodes, and other shows. I do not own Doctor Who,
or its characters, or Star Trek, and any of its characters.
Martha couldn't sleep.
It's only been hours since they've just returned to the TARDIS, after saying goodbye to Tim
Latimer and Joan Redfern. She felt relieved to be back in the TARDIS, travelling in the time vortex
again, not back in 1913, sleeping in a cold, spartan room, in a single bed that had a lumpy mattress.
Out of habit, she rubbed her hands, feeling how rough they became after hours of hard, back-breaking work as a maid at Farringham School. Even after repeatedly applying some lotion to her hands, they were
still rough and calloused.
Martha laid on her back in her warm, dark bedroom, the mattress not lumpy enough for her, the
bed too big for her. She got used to the small, narrow bed back in 1913, so in spite of being tired,
Martha couldn't sleep. She looked around her room, and in spite of her insomnia, felt happy to be
back in the luxurious room the TARDIS created for her. She felt glad to be wearing a cami tank
and matching PJ bottoms again--not a cotton gown covering her from the neck down (she kept
tripping on the hem, much to her annoyance).
Giving up on sleep altogether, Martha got up, and out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown off
of a chair. Slipping on some slipeprs, and putting on her dressing gown, she went in search for
something to help her sleep. Pausing momentarily to tie her dressing gown shut, she made her way
to the kitchen.
She peered into the kitchen, to see if The Doctor was there, but he wasn't. Satisfied she was
alone, she walked in, filled a metal kettle with water, and turned on the stove to heat it. While it was
heating, she felt her stomach rumble. Remembering there were some cookies in a jar on the counter,
she took a handful, and munched on some while she waited for the water to boil. A few minutes later,
she left the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea, and a handful of chocolate chip cookies.
She reached her bedroom door, but she didn't stop there. Halfway there, she realized she
needed a book. She loved to read, especially before bedtime. She remembered, with a smile, that when she was a kid, she would always be found asleep with a book in her hands. "Bookworm," she was teasingly called by her family. There is nothing wrong with being a bookworm, she thought to herself as she made her way to the library. She just hoped her tea wouldn't get cold before she got there.
The TARDIS was kind enough to help her get to the library sooner than she hoped. Before
Martha knew it, the library door was right in front of her. Stopping herself before she could crash
into it, teacup and all, she looked and recognized the old fashioned wooden door. Silently thanking
the wonderful old ship, she walked in. Again, she noticed, in the reading area, that he wasn't there.
Relieved he wasn't here either, Martha set her cup of tea and cookies down on a side table, and went
perusing the shelves for a good book to read.
Frowning to herself, she couldn't find a book she hasn't already read. Several shelves yielded books in alien languages, which Martha was not interested in reading. Medical texts and cultural texts about various alien species cluttered dusty shelves, threatening to fall if Martha touched them. Not wanting a dusty mess on her hands, she made her way to the back of the modest library. Here she found
more alien books, some which were on metal tablets not dissimilar to PDAs, or on crystal tablets.
Frowning, Martha crouched down, and several thick, leatherbound books caught her eye. Curious, Martha pulled one of them from the shelf, and blew the dust off of it. She saw the words "Photo Album" in
gilded letters. Her curiosity growing, she put it down and pulled out another, which was the same,
except it was red instead of brown. Picking up the brown and red leatherbound photo albums, she
carried the heavy volumes back to the leather armrest chair. She dropped the albums onto a small table
on the opposite side of the leather chair, with a small thud! Brushing the dust off of her dressing
gown and hands, she sat down on the leather armchair, took the brown photo album, and opened it.