Martha meets someone special
"Infuriating. Just..maddening, frustrating and infuriating. Thát's what he is". Martha mumbled to herself.
"Thank You" was all she had gotten, saving his life, purging the solar heat radiation thingy from him. She never wanted to hear "burn with me" again. She shivered at the memory. Oh, But she dìd get the key to the Tardis. That was kind of nice to be honest.
Martha sighed. She nèver got a cold shoulder if she let loose her charms, she could usually wind ány guy she fancied around her pretty little fingers, not that she acted on that, but the Doctor? Completely impervious. Yes, friendly..in a "friendzoned" way. *ugh!* served her right. Falling in love with the dashing hero, like some empty-headed teen girl. Oh, and the best kisser ever. "Genetic transfer" my bum! What was she thinking? This was one of those times that she wasn't particularly happy with herself. And yet.. Another sigh escaped her lips.
She rose from the -frankly not thát comfy- Barcelona in "her" bedroom in the Tardis, putting her thesis on neuro-transmitters on the Noguchi in front of her. Space-hopping and time jumping was nó reason to go slacking off on her studies. Tsch. Design furniture in a spaceship. She wouldn't be too surprised if the Doctor got that furniture as a gift from the original designers..
She looked around her to give her mind some rest. Quite nicely minimalistic this bedroom. Odd, to think that the Doctor had designed all the interiors on the Tardis. A kind of systematic eclecticism. Minimalist bedrooms, mega-messy-grunge console room. Weird steam-punkish library. Swimming pool like some fancy, but kitschy resort. He really liked contrasts, it seemed. The strange things The Doctor had collected. Though, her bed was absolutely fantastic. Something with "coolly woolly and suspending" force fields, the Doctor had waved away her technical inquiries. She'd lòve to take that bed back with her to her flat when the journey was over. Added to that, a bed like that would be fantástic for burn-victims.
Yes, another annoying habit of him, inventing nonsensical words to describe advanced technology. What does he think? That she aced all those exams and got her MRCS befóre hitting 26, because of sheer luck and good lipstick? A bit of advanced technology would not phase her she knew that of herself. She wasn't her Dad, who was already baffled and confused by an ordinary blue-ray player.
She felt the annoyance building-up again. She just couldn't help herself, and let-out a frustrated roar that clamored through the halls of the Tardis.
..and it kèpt on sounding.. That was odd. It sounded like her cry, but became a different voice while reverberating.
And then it stopped.
She looked around, bewildered. The Tardis had odd sounds, sure, she'd gotten used to them, the humming, the beeps, the soft tinkling sounds, and, of course that anguished swooshing sound, as if someone forgot to loosen the brakes, or something.
But this? This was new, and just blatantly freaky. She started towards the control-room. She had to ask.
As usual he was twiddling and fiddling with the console, nervously flicking switches, waving his sonic screwdriver (why not a "laser screwdriver" or a "Quantum Pliers" or something?)
"Ah, Martha, there you are! Why aren't you asleep?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"Of course you couldn't, otherwise you wouldn't be standing here in your p-jays and bunny slippers.. I líke the bunny slippers, they're comfy, though I prefer the wolf-feet variation for some odd reasom.." He wandered off in his usual chaotic way of talking and thinking at the same time.
"By the way, do you álways scream "That Man" when you hit some extremity on furniture?" He went on, grinning, and twirled back to the console.
What? Oh my God, in her anger, she had completely forgotten she was already in her somewhat scruffy pajama's. Oh just great, really spiffy. More embarrasment, yesh. Exàctly what she needed. She felt her face go red. Something that most certainly did not escape the Doctor.
"Oh, no, no reason to be flustered, no problem, you look loverly and cute as a button in your p-jays."
She looked at him, his lovely eyes threatening to swallow her whole. Those beautiful brown eyes, that cute hair asking to get tousled, asking to dig her hands in, and kiss...Ooohh, nooo. Not now. She felt herself go all wobbly inside again. She swallowed hard, sighed (again), and plopped-down on one of the old car seats scattered around the console. (design chairs in the bedroom, but tattered car-seats in the, arguably, most important part of the Tardis? The Doctor was really schizophrenic in his design choices to be honest..)
"Actually, Doctor, I'm here because there is something odd going on in the Tardis"
"Ooohh.." The Doctor mumbled. "But that's the norm, frankly. However..."
His voice wandered off.. "Yes, there was this cry. I thought it was you, stubbing Your toe against the bed, or something"
"Ahem. Ehh. Yes, I hit my elbow at the dresser" she lied.
He cocked his head. "How on earth did you hit Your elbow on a low dresser? Crawling around on the floor? And here I was, thinking Ì had odd habits".
After -apparently- pondering for a bit, he again swirled around towards Martha, his face suddenly very close to hers, his eyes studying her face, giving her serious hot flashes again. Did he do that on purpose? She met his gaze with as much determination as she could muster, suppressed a snappy come-back, and decided to listen what he had to say.
"No, no, no, no, there's more". He went on. "You know why? Because I most definitely heard the Tardis repeat your cry.." And that's quite unlike her.." Hmm. He messed-up his hair. "There's quite a bit more going on"
Martha felt uneasy. Why was he going all ponder-y. If he got that look, and messed-up his hair, he was about to figure something out.
"You dó know that the Tardis is semi-sentient, hm? Or, at least, you probably figured that out by now. The Tardis is álso very sensitive to strong emotions. It messes up her logic space-time-dilators. It makes steering her a tad daunting. When strong emotions are sensed -and that's independent from space and/or time.. There's a reason that I end-up at trouble spots in the universe. I have to admit that my control of her is somewhat iffy every now and then."
He turned to her. "Something is eating at you, and it has an effect on the Tardis"
By now Martha felt extremely guilty. Having her spat about this teeny-crush apparently negatively influenced the Tardis.
She felt her face heat-up and mumbled "I'm sorry.." And to her astonishment the Tardis started to echo that in hushed tones "I'm sorry..I'm sorry..I'm sorry.."
The Doctor looked around. He cocked one eyebrow, and waved his sonic screwdriver around, as if scanning. "There. It's happening again. The Tardis is echoing You.." And then, contrary to what she expected, he gave her the biggest grin she'd ever seen. "She likes you, she réally likes you"
"What?" Martha looked at the Doctor "she ..lìkes me? What on earth are you going on about?"
He looked at her with that headmaster-look, she'd often seen him use when confronted with -in his eyes- utter simple-mindedness. "For someone about to become a true Doctor, You can be quite thick. Almost as thick as I. Semi. Sentient. Machine. Haven't you been listening? Look. The Tardis echoing Your...outbursts.. is a way of, well, attuning herself to You. Yes, yes, odd, weird, and odd, odder-the-odd, but that's how she runs.
Now, off to bed with you. Humans need their sleep, and I need You clear-headed tomorrow.. whenever that "tomorrow" is.."
Martha stood up, and looked at the Doctor with a scowl. "I'm a grown woman, nòt some child that can be sent off to bed if she starts to be bothersome" Luckily she was able, though only barely, to stop herself from stamping her foot.
"What? No, no, no, you're no bother. Really you aren't" and he gave her that big smile that made her stomach flutter. Every. Bloody. Time.
"Grrmbl" she suddenly felt a long yawn well up. Oof. The affair on that spaceship, all those emotions, the despair she had felt in that escape-pod, hurling towards the sun, but also the elation when she had saved the Doctor's life, it all came crashing down on her.
"You're right. I'm as knackered as I was the first time I ran night-shifts.." She sighed again. "I'm off. Don't wake me before 10.."
He grinned. "10 where, or rather whèn? You know there are places where time runs different, and 10 hours take only 5 seconds. Would make for some very short naps. I could take you to the Dracmoris constellation. Not yet discovered by your scientists, time runs extremely slow there. Great place if You need to sleep-in.." He grinned and twirled back to the console.
"Pfft, wha-evâh.. 8 earth-hours of sleep, please.." She started walking to her room. Turning her back on him. Terrible man.. He was still grinning when she rounded the corner towards her bedroom.
On a whim she stopped. Would she?.. She felt ridiculous, but couldn't help herself, and put her hand against a wall of the hallway, and whispered "Are You there?"
Ugh! Stupid idea. She plodded towards her bedroom, shut the door, fell on the bed...and got the scare of a lifetime. There was a woman sitting on the edge of the bed. A woman, somewhat fizzing and see-through like a ghost. Dressed in something that looked like an 19th century costume, and she was looking at her, stráight looking at her.
Martha stopped breathing. A ghost. On the Tardis. Oh dear. Something else she did not need. The woman reached out with a hand. Martha wanted to run, or just scream, like some damsel in distress. Her emotions were still somewhat raw, and a ghost was no help. At all.
And yet. She didn't scream. She didn't run. Sómething in her was intrigued. Who was this woman? Where did she come from? Was she some lost soul, a former assistant to the Doctor that died a horrible death somewhere on the Tardis? Hmm.. Martha looked closer, and the ghost looked back. There was no horror, or anything like that in her ghostly eyes. She even had a slight smile around her lips.
Well, that was about the oddest ghost Martha had ever seen.. and the only one. Not much to go by. But she wasn't threatening, at all.
"Hello Marth..fzzzts..bzztsch..a how are..tzzzt..you" the mouth of the ghost moved, but the sound came from all the walls of her bedroom. Waittaminute.. Martha looked a bit closer. Yes. The ghost had pixels when looked at in close-up. Hah!
"Ehh..H. ? Who are You" martha started..
"I..am..tzzztsch.. Here." Her bedroom walls went.
Martha hesitated. "You are no ghost.."
"I am no ghost" the room went.
Martha relaxed. "Soo. You are representing the Tardis I guess? Are you like some answering-machine? A speech synth and some smart sounding software?"
"I am..schsch..shma..smart software. I am the Tardis."
The projection became more solid (by now Martha was sure it was a projection) and the woman scooted somewhat closer towards Martha. There even was something of an imprint on her bed. As if the projection got weight. Interesting. A solid projection. Martha's sharp mind was already thinking about the consequences of projections with weight through force fields. Could be mighty useful in medicine.
"You..are..Martha. You..are..in love..v..vv..bzzzt.. with the Doctor.."
Whááaaat? Martha stared at the woman with open mouth. How could a machine -semi-sentient- or not, see emotions? Was it telepathic or something? A wooshing sound in her head made her dizzy for a bit. Voices echoing, mumbling, and other sounds reverberated in her skull.
"Oy! No mind-reading" Marta burst out. That cheeky machine!
The woman looked embarrassed. "I..am..sorry. But your mind is screaming at me. I..cannot..stop..that."
Now the projection looked réally sad and embarrassed. Well. There seemed to be some emotion there. Martha shrugged. She should have known, given the almost god-like technology the Tardis represented, that a well-functioning algorithm for emotions was most likely something that time-lord toddlers thought-out between pooping their diapers and eating, just to pass time.
Martha couldn't help herself, and tried to touch the woman, just to be sure. She felt rather solid by now, there was júst a hint of static electricity, but the dress felt pretty real. Almost as a reward, Martha got a sweet smile from the woman. Bloody hell. That was some convincing projection..
"Well now. Why have You decided to appear here?" Martha started inquiring. "Why the ghost-act, why not.. I don't know.. Appear on some terminal?"
The woman looked at Martha, almost shy. "I..wanted..to..tesssschtzzt..if I could do it. Annnnnn..nnd.d only dared i..i..tt.. With someone I trus.. .. *Adjusting ad-hoc speech system* with someone I like and trust."
"Oh..?" Was all Martha could utter. "So. You planning on hitting on the Doctor too" she couldn't help herself, and a little jealousy seeped through in her flippant remark.
Now the woman gave Martha a full, and very disarming smile. "No. A caretaker figure "hitting" on her protégé is rather uncouth. I am.. Sorry. I have to..tzzztsch..go now. He is starting to notice the energy-drain of this hard-light projection. Thank You. You won't be seeing this form for quite some time, and I am afraid that this will be our only talk for quite some time" And the woman fizzed out of existence.
Completely baffled Martha leaned in her pillows. What a mad experience. Shame that she couldn't have asked more questions. The thing that was pretty clear by now was that what the Doctor had called "semi-sentient" was far more than that. It felt kind of satisfying that the Doctor didn't know everything. Running around with a hyper-intelligent alien has a way of making even the smartest med-student feel like a dumb rock.
Question was now, should she inform the doctor of the Tardis' attempts to connect with her, or should she leave it to the Tardis to choose a time and place to show herself as a sentient being, that could manifest outside of the constraints of her computer-core.
She sighed again. No. She decided to leave it to the Tardis herself. Oy. Suddenly Martha realized that she saw the Tardis as that woman, in her mind. Well, no more worrying before tomorrow. Sleep. Now. And almost before Martha consciously hit the pillow, she was in deep sleep, unaware of the vague see-through figure standing next to her, reaching out, and tenderly stroking Martha's hair. "I'm so sorry child. You would have been perfect for him" before fizzing out of existence again.
