Hello folks, happy summer!
This story is going to stand fairly well on its own, but it is a continuation of the events of "Keeping With the Enemy." It was just too tempting to write a story about the Doctor and Martha doing their alien-troubleshooting thing with Donna! The rapport that Martha and Donna could have...
Read it as its own thing. It's fine. Trust me!
The previous story saw the Doctor and Donna follow the Jones family, and an alien threat, to Mallorca, Spain, in order to save the planet from being pillaged and plundered for its natural resources. In the course of things, Donna became quite good friends with Martha's family, and Martha and the Doctor became, well... more than just Doctor and Companion. ;-) In the end, the Doctor dispatched (read: killed) the alien - though there was no other way to handle it. Afterwards, TARDIS needed a period of convalescence, so the new lovers remained in Mallorca for an additional month, after the others went home to London.
And here we are, back in London now with our heroes, on the verge of hitting the "open road" in the TARDIS again. Though, as you might have guessed, a few wrinkles need to be ironed out first...
Enjoy!
ONE
The day had been fraught with difficult phone calls. And it was only eight in the morning.
Just after six, Martha Jones had been awakened by her father, ringing to let her know that her great-uncle Floyd had passed away in his sleep. Clive and Floyd had been close, and it was definitely hard for Martha to hear her father's voice break.
After that, she had gone back to sleep, in her own bed in London, which was nothing new. The fact that the Doctor was slumbering beside her… that was new.
Less than an hour later, her mother had called to discuss bringing her "new paramour" to the funeral.
"New paramour, mum? Really?" she asked, sardonically, sitting up in bed. "Can't you just talk like a normal person?"
The Doctor sat up beside her, and smirked.
Francine, as they both knew, was a bit of a control-freak, and not yet totally comfortable with their romance. But all she wanted was to know. Was the Doctor coming? Did he know about how to act/dress at a human funeral? What should she tell people his name is? What should she tell people he does for a living?
"The Doctor and I will discuss it, and get back to you, okay?" Martha said, calmly, reckoning her mother did have a few legitimate concerns.
"It seems like I'll need to build a human identity of sorts, if you and I are going to be together," he said, muttering, after she'd reported the issue to him.
"Well, in that case, you should know, John Smith sounds right suspicious," she told him. "It sounds like exactly what it is: someone who doesn't want their identity known."
"I know," he sighed. "Just never had to think about it in the long-term before."
While they were discussing it, the phone rang again. It was Tom Milligan."
"Oh, damn," she said.
"Who's Tom Milligan?"
"That guy, remember? We went out on a couple of dates before Mallorca..."
"Oh, right, right, right," he said, quickly. Then, with a big, cheeky smile, he asked, "Want me to answer it? It'll save you the difficult conversation."
"No thanks," she told him, indulgently. "This is a battle I must fight alone."
"Right, then. Suit yourself," he said, kissing her shoulder. "I'll hop in the shower."
She answered Tom's call, made small talk, spoke in very general terms about her trip to Mallorca with her family. Then, she steeled herself, and broke it to the mild-mannered paediatrician that she wouldn't be able to see him again, because she was now pursuing a relationship with someone else.
"Oh," said Milligan, sounding hurt. "I mean… I know we've only been out a couple of times, but I really like you. I was sort of hoping…"
"I like you, too," she told him. "But… look, I won't give you all the details, Tom. Just know that this is a moment I need to seize. Haven't you ever had the one that got away?"
"I have now," he answered, rather sullenly.
"Ugh, please don't do that," she whined.
She wanted to avoid telling him the whole story (well, the human-friendly version of the story), but also wanted to avoid any talk that sounded like making excuses. So she opted for the minimalist approach, and told him almost nothing. Which made her seem cagey, and she had also wanted to avoid being cagey, but… something had to give.
"All right, then," Tom sighed. "Have a nice life."
And then, at around eight, a fourth phone call came in, while the Doctor was putting toast on her plate, directly out of the toaster, and shaking his right hand because he'd burnt his fingers.
"Now what?" he asked, annoyed at the burn, and at the phone.
It was Julia Swayles, fellow med-student-turned-resident-M.D. at Royal Hope Hospital.
"Thank God you've answered," she croaked. "I've got flu. I can barely stand."
"Ugh," Martha groaned. "I'm so sorry! You sound awful!"
"I truly think I may die," Julia told her. "Would you take my shift today? I'm supposed to be working nine to nine."
Martha sighed. She and the Doctor and Donna had planned on hitting the open road this afternoon. But, she looked at the Doctor across the kitchen with supplication in her eyes, and said to her friend through the phone, "You know what? Sure. I'll be a little late, but I'll get there as soon as I can. You just get better, okay?"
"Problem?" asked the Doctor.
"Julia's got flu," she sighed, cutting off the call. "Remember Julia? Clever, but a bit skittish?"
"Yeah, I remember," he said, extracting the butter from the fridge. "So, going to work?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
"It's all right. We'll just leave tonight, instead of this afternoon. Or tomorrow morning. I'll ring Donna and let her know she can spend a few more hours with her granddad." And he set about buttering toast for the two of them.
"Thanks," she said, and she walked around the kitchen island, pecked him on the cheek, then took her plate of toast and a mug of tea upstairs, so she could shower and change.
At three minutes past nine, she arrived at the bus stop where she usually caught a ride to the hospital. The bench was occupied by three people already, so she just leaned against the bus shelter and waited.
And it gave her time to think.
After the month she'd had, Martha almost felt like reality had been phoning her all morning, reminder her of its existence.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, she and the Doctor had returned to London in the TARDIS, after a six-week sting in Mallorca. This was composed of a two-week family holiday, and a month-long convalescent period for the Doctor's beloved blue vessel. Their time, over that month, had been spent mostly in remote parts of the island in small bungalows, watching the sea lap at the shores, drinking Sangria, and making love. Occasionally, they would do things involving boats and/or putting on shoes, but mostly it was a much-needed, idle holiday.
And this morning, blaring like a foghorn, came her family, her personal drama, and her job.
She was facing up the street, waiting for the welcome sight of a tall red bus to appear upon the urban horizon, when something caught her eye.
In front of a block of student housing, where she stood on Earl's Court Road, there was a small planter area containing three large trees, and edged with some red stone that separated cement from dirt. There was some etching upon one of the red stone panels, words and numbers that said, "1938. In septuaginta annis, tempus advenit responsio."
"Hm," Martha said with a curious shrug. She could recognise that this was Latin, but she didn't know enough about the "dead" language to know what it meant, and/or whether it was saying anything bizarre.
What she could confirm was bizarre, however, was the fact that she had stood in this same spot, leaning against this same bus shelter, looking about at the same panels of pavement and stone for the past six months, and yet, she had never seen this lettering. There were no visible indicators that there had been construction in the area, nor re-landscaping of the front of the building… no reason why a wicked-obvious, Latin-engraved square of stone shouldn't be seen by her.
And yet, there it was. Clear as you like, and definitely brand-new. Though, she had to admit, it looked like it had been there for ages.
What was it doing there? Why was this the first time she was seeing it?
The only explanation could be time travel, she said to herself, and then laughed inwardly.
To a normal person, it would just be a glib response. To her, it was something, perhaps, to be considered.
And so, she extracted a notepad and pen from her shoulder-bag, and jotted down the words.
Absently, she wondered if the panel would be there tomorrow.
The bus arrived more or less on-time, and when Martha looked at her watch, she reckoned she'd get to Royal Hope right around 9:30.
Just as she sat, the phone rang in her bag. Considering the morning she'd spent with this phone, she let out a mild curse and sighed.
She did not recognise the number, but she answered it anyway.
"Hello?"
"Hey you… it's Donna," said the boisterous ginger on the other end. "How's it been?"
"Having a bit of a weird morning," Martha answered. "You?"
"Well, funny you should ask," Donna said. "I rang the Doctor about ten minutes ago, to ask if we could just get the hell out of here early today, since I can't bloody stand my mother any longer…"
"Oh. Have a row?"
"Yeah."
"Over the same old?" Martha asked.
"Over the fact that I haven't got a job or a boyfriend," Donna answered. "So… yes."
Martha laughed. "Well, I've got both, and my mother isn't any happier. Maybe it's just mothers."
"Your mum is lovely, don't sell her short."
"I know, I know," Martha said, like a child, rolling her eyes a bit.
"So, speaking of your job, the Doctor said you're covering a shift for a friend today?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Martha sighed. "I guess I've delayed your quick getaway from your mum."
"Well, yes, but in light of that, I'm phoning you to ask if I can stay at your place tonight."
"Sure, no problem."
"Apparently, we're leaving tomorrow morning, since you're getting off kind of late," said Donna. "I asked if I could stay there, and the Doctor said to ask you."
"Yeah, stay at mine. Don't give it another thought."
"Where's the TARDIS parked?"
"In my back garden."
After a pause, Donna asked, "Why can't we just leave tonight after you get home?"
"Probably because he wants us to get a good night's sleep before we go. Something about keeping humans on a twenty-four-hour cycle," Martha said, again, rolling her eyes. "Like that ever sticks once we get on the road, but whatever."
"That's daft, but you didn't hear it from me," Donna said.
"My lips are sealed," Martha whispered.
"Okay, then, I guess I'll see you…"
"Wait, Donna?"
"Yeah?"
"Something a little bit off happened this morning."
"I'd be astonished if nothing a bit off had. Consider who you hang out with."
"But this is… well, I can't say it has nothing to do with him, because what the hell do I know? But do you know Park House, on Earl's Court Road?"
"Vaguely. It's student housing, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Well, it's near my flat – it's where I catch my bus."
"Oh. Okay." -
"I've been standing there at that corner, there at Earl's Court and Bolton Gardens every day for months – well, most days – and believe me, I'm familiar with the landscape."
"How d'you mean?"
"Okay, this morning, I saw an engraved panel that I've never seen before."
"What do you mean, engraved panel?"
"It was one of those reddish brick things, separating the sidewalk from some trees. And it had the year 1938 on it – or at least those four numbers in that order – and then something in Latin. And, like I said, I've stood on that corner for months and never noticed it. I'm certain I would have noticed it before today."
"So, what are you saying? It just appeared there suddenly today?"
"Or, sometime in the last six weeks, since I've been away."
"So what's the problem? Someone put it there sometime in the last six weeks."
"But why? So random. And it was not a new red panel - that would have been obvious. It just looked like, you know... part of the furniture."
"It's probably been walked on ten thousand times."
"I guess."
There was a brief silence, and then Donna asked, "Wait, did you say Earl's Court Road and Bolton Gardens?"
"Yeah."
There was another pause, and then, "I think I saw something about that on the news this morning. There's a time capsule buried there! They're getting ready to dig it up soon. It's going to be an event."
"Oh," Martha said. "Did they just put down the plaque?"
"I don't know," Donna said. "Why would they bury a time capsule and then wait seventy years to put in a plaque?"
"Beats me," Martha sighed.
"Martha, are you sure it hasn't just been there for ages and you've never noticed?"
"I suppose anything is possible," Martha mused. "Who buried the thing anyway?"
"I don't know, I didn't catch that part," Donna told her. "It's student housing, innit? Maybe students buried it."
"It was not student housing in 1938," Martha said. "Did such a thing even exist in 1938?"
"Then I have no idea. What was there in 1938?"
"No idea. Gee, wouldn't it be nice if we knew someone who could tell us?"
"It would. It really would," Donna answered with mock resignedness.
That was when Martha's phone rang. Again.
"Blimey, my life is like a bloody call centre today," she remarked. She stole a glance at the screen. "Sorry, Donna, I'm getting a call from my dad. Can I let you go? See you at home tonight?"
"Great. Thanks for letting me crash with you."
"No problem," Martha chirped, cutting off the call. Then, she hit another button. "Hi, dad."
"Hi, sweetheart. Listen, Uncle Floyd's funeral is this Friday, at 10:00, at Christ Church in Kensington."
Martha jotted this info down on her arm. "Okay. Got it."
"You'll be there, then?"
"Yes, dad, I'll be there."
"And listen, you bring whomever you like, okay? And no one has to lie to anyone, I don't care what your mother says. You want to tell people he's an alien investigator time-traveller guy, then do it."
Martha laughed. "Okay, thanks, dad. I think we'll have to come up with some sort of cover story, but it's good to know you're on our side."
When she placed the phone back in her bag, she realised she didn't fancy having to tell the Doctor and Donna that their departure would be delayed another five days. Then again, they had a time machine. They could go everywhere in the universe and spend a week, and still make it back for the funeral.
Somehow, though, that felt like cheating.
She'd see what the Doctor thought later. Just now, it was almost time to step off the bus and get into doctoring mode herself.
Slow start? Meh? Don't forget to leave a review before you go! :-)