The Doctor has let her stay on for the ride, and she thinks that it's quite possibly (and quite embarrassingly) the happiest day of her entire life to date. She's got a silly little grin on her pretty face, and she's finally exploring the interior of the TARDIS, all of it's little nooks and crannies and every miniscule detail. She's found a garden, a laboratory, an infirmary, two dozen bathrooms, countless storage closets and a strange room that seemed entirely dedicated to cheese and she thinks it just fantastic.
She's also hopelessly lost, but knows that eventually she'll find her way out of this rabbit-warren of passages, even if she has to yell for the Doctor to do it. Martha Jones still has too much of her pride to do that at the present moment, however, so she keeps going on her adventure, exploring quite happily. The waterfall and the tiki-arch are perhaps odd, but she does her best to ignore them in favour of the other surprises the trans-dimensional ship has to offer.
What she's not expecting, however, is the bedroom.
Her first impression is pink – lots and lots of it. There's a pink jacket over one of the corners of the bed, which has a pink doona draped across it, and white pillows at it's head. There's a magazine on the covers, rumpled as if abandoned in an excited rush, in fact, the whole room has that feel with everything just a little out of place. There's make up on a small vanity in the corner, and an MP3 player dock sitting on the bedside cabinet. Countless albums of photographs sit in the corner, one on top of the next, and trinkets line the shelves on the walls, some perfectly harmless and others blatantly alien.
As if sensing she has entered the room, it seems to whir like an engine spluttering into life, and a pale blue-green hologram flickered into view, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was a young girl, with short, shoulder length hair, wearing a jumper and a pair of faded jeans, smiling in the direction of the door, which was where Martha was still standing.
Hello! The hologram said brightly, in a distinctly Londoner accent. I can't see you, I'm just a recording, but if you've come into my room, and you're not on the list of people who I know, I'm set to activate.
The girl shifted, and it was odd, because the bed didn't shift at all under her weight.
I'm making this recording because I met a woman today who opened up my eyes a little. I'm not going to leave the Doctor unless I have to, mind, but if it happens, I've asked that the TARDIS lead any new companion he picks up here so that I can give them a little message.
Now, rule one is that you have to understand you're not the first companion he's ever had and you're certainly not going to be the last. Don't delude yourself – he'll live a lot longer than you, so even if you don't want to leave him, eventually, he'll outlive you. The hologram paused and her expression went briefly sad for a moment. I'll die eventually too, so I thought I'd make this now while I was still looking my best.
Rule two is that you mustent, under any circumstance, let this jade your relationship with him. He's a wonderful man, and more lonely and alone than you can ever know. Give him your all, your whole being and be grateful for what little of himself he lets you touch. Over time he'll give you more, but he needs to work at his own pace. Push him to go any faster than this and he'll shut you out completely.
Rule three is don't give him pears. Don't eat a pear around him, don't even mention the fruit. A similar rule applies for bananas and jelly-babies, but for completely the opposite reason.
Martha smiled disbelievingly at this, and moved towards the hologram, studying it. The hologram went on, undeterred. Four. And Four is important. I've always liked four. The hologram winced and ducked it's head. Oh, now he's got me sounding like him. She said, in a near whisper, before shaking herself slightly and sitting a little straighter. Four. Don't let him blame himself for everything. He has a very bad habit of doing that, and mostly for the wrong reasons. Don't blame yourself for everything, either. He'll start thinking that you're just trying to make him feel better and then he'll feel worse.
Rule five is that you need to learn to ignore his tinkering with the TARDIS. He'll just get annoyed if you pass comment. He also won't teach you to fly it, no matter how many times you ask – believe me I've tried.
Rule six –And then a contemplative pause - There is no rule six. Oh, and that brings me to rule seven. Don't get into a Monty Python quoting competition with him. The hologram smiled.
Rule eight – no, really. Don't. He's seen all of the shows, the best ones more than once. He waves to himself in the audience.
Rule nine is be yourself around him, because he hates any sort of pretenders with a passion. If he chose you that means he likes you for you, and for the potential that you have, not for anyone that you're pretending to be. It took me a while to work this one out, and longer for my friend Mickey to – I'm getting off track. She shook her head in frustration. Martha was absolutely captivated by the hologram and unsure of why she hadn't left the room yet. She didn't even know who this girl was, but here she was, listening intently as she told her about how to live with the Doctor. Martha felt almost like she was back in school again, and that she should be taking notes.
Finally, I come to rule ten. The hologram's face fell then. Love him. She said, her tone quiet and melancholy, Love him as much as you are able, with all your heart if possible. Don't expect anything back, but give him what he needs above everything else – love. Give him your attention when he talks to you, even when you don't understand. Smile and let him know how much you love him, even if he can't return the feeling, but never say it out loud because that makes it real and then he can't ignore it.
And he will ignore it, but please. The hologram looked directly in Martha's direction, pinning her with a hopeless, desperate stare. Please, love him.
Martha left the room at that point, with chills running down her spine.
.
A/n: Wow. Weak ending there, Haku. You're slipping.
I feel kinda sad admitting that this was solely written for the Monty Python reference. I had the idea floating around for a while, but the MP reference made me want to write it down.
Anyway. Please leave a little review? -shakes tin emploringly-