A/N: Ok, so this is the first story I've decided to actually publish on after being a lurker for years, so yay! This is an AU story of "Human Nature" and "Family of Blood." I really love the episode and the fics I've found with a romance between John Smith and Martha, but I get so annoyed that they ignore the episode.
By the way, I do mention the book Jane Eyre (One of my favorite books) in this chapter, but you don't need to read it to get the references. At most, you should go to Sparknotes or Wikipedia. The title also comes from a quote in the book, but you don't really need to know that either. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Martha Jones knew she was a city girl. She loved listening to the constant clamoring, it made her feel safer as she slept in her flat and lulled her to sleep better than any lullaby. So when she had to go into hiding at the Farringham School for Boys in the English countryside in the year 1913, it was no surprise to her that she couldn't sleep. It was just too silent, too still in this place and Martha felt alone with just the thoughts in her head as she lay in the attic room where she shared with the other maids.
After seven sleepless nights, she decided enough was enough; she was going to take action against this insomnia. Martha crept out of the room and down the stairs, past the boys' dormitories, to the library. When she used to have the oh-so-rare sleepless night at home, she would revise her notes or read. She looked through the titles of books until one caught her eye. She smiled and grabbed it. She didn't want to disturb any of the boys (or get caught) by lighting a candle, so she crept further down the stairs into the kitchen.
After 45 minutes of loosing herself in her book, Martha started hearing a noise. It was faint at first, but it sounded like soft footsteps coming closer. Her heart started pounding. It could be a burglar, or one of the teachers, or worse- the Family. She slowly grabbed a skillet on the counter near her and slowly moved towards the door. The footsteps were getting louder and louder and Martha forgotten how to breath. The knob slowly turned, Martha held the skillet above her head, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. The door opened to reveal one Mr. John Smith.
"What the-" Mr. Smith gasped.
Martha lowered the skillet with a gasp of shock and relief. "M-Mr. Smith," she stuttered. "You scared the living daylights out of me."
"And me as well, Martha," stated Smith. "What, pray tell, are you doing up at this ungodly hour with an iron skillet?"
"I-I thought you were a burglar, Sir." She lowered her gaze and blushed from embarrassment.
"Really?" he lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "Well, I'm sure if a burglar, did get in, the school would be well protected with you keeping watch."
She gave a small smile and he smiled right back.
"May I ask what you're doing up, Sir?"
"Hm?" he said, clearly lost in his thoughts. "Oh, I was up grading papers, lost track of time." Martha shook her head at him. John Smith may not have been the Doctor, but he certainly inherited his absentmindedness.
"So I thought," he continued as he began to rummage through the cupboards. "A midnight snack might be just the thing before bed and- Ah-hah!" he cried out, looking as if he just found buried treasure. He reached in and pulled out a plate. "Leftover chocolate cake from the Headmaster's party." He brought the plate over to the table with two forks and handed one to her.
She hesitated, "I'm not sure if I should, Sir." She was still not used to the manners and the decorum of the era, but she knew a teacher and a housemaid sharing a dessert was certainly frowned upon.
He gave her a roguish smile that reminded her of the Doctor. "It's after hours, Ms. Jones. I'm sure you can excuse decorum for a little late-night indulgence. You're secret's safe with me."
It seems he also inherited the Doctor's rebelliousness as well, she thought as she took the fork. She took a large chunk of cake and placed it in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she slowly chewed, savoring the taste of chocolate. She had forgotten how good indulging was, especially in a time where extravagances are unattainable to her. She opened her eyes to find John Smith staring at her.
"That's really good," she said, smiling. He smiled back as they both proceeded to eat.
"You never answered my question, Martha," he said. "What are you doing up so late?"
She shrugged, "Couldn't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep all week. It's too…quiet."
"Miss the hustle and bustle of Good Old London Town, eh?"
She smirked, "I suppose I do. Anyway, I just came down here to do some reading. It always helped me sleep back home."
"And what are you reading?"
She pushed the book towards him. "Jane Eyre," she stated. "It's one of my favorites."
"Really? I wouldn't have pegged you for a Bronte fan."
She shrugged again, not really knowing how to interpret his comment.
"Well, why is it your favorite?'
The question startled her, she was getting used to being silent in this new time period. Now here was a person who wanted to know her thoughts and opinions and it was the last person she'd expect.
"You really want to know?" she asked.
"Of course, anything to get into a rigorous discussion of fine literature. I am a teacher after all."
"She took another bite of cake. "I guess it's a number of things. The way she's able to transport her readers into the scene, the beautiful love story between Mr. Rochester and Jane, the mystery of the spooky laughter in the attic." She smiled wistfully; happy to have at least someone who was interested in her opinions. "But I think it's the character of Jane."
"How so?" he asked, sincerely interested in her views.
She took another bite of cake as she contemplated his question; "I guess it's because she's a true heroine to me, a woman with brains rather than beauty. She overcomes so much by using her head and following her heart."
There was a long pause in the room. She looked up to find Smith staring at her with an emotion she couldn't place.
"I'm sorry, Sir. Have I said something wrong?"
"No," he said a bit too loudly. "Not at all, it's just- you're not what I expected."
"Pardon?" His sudden strange behavior was confusing Martha.
He shook his head and smiled, "Nothing, that was a brilliant literary analysis, Miss Jones."
She smiled proudly, "Thank you, Sir."
They chatted for a bit more as the cake soon disappeared, and still they stayed talking a laughing. Two hours later, Martha gave a rather large yawn she tried to cover up with her hand.
Mr. Smith spotted it right away. I do believe that is you're cue, Miss Jones," he smirked. "Come on, off to bed with you."
They both stood up and looked at each other. "Thank you, Mr. Smith for the conversation and the cake."
Smith smiled that roguish smile again, "It's after hours, Miss Jones, you may call me John."
"Alright then, goodnight…John." She stuck out her hand to him and he chuckled as his held it in a very warm handshake.
"Goodnight…Martha."
She gave him one last look as she left the room and snuck back up the stairs. As she climbed back into bed, she was still smiling, feeling as if she just made a new friend.