Title: Pears, Don't Let Me Eat Pears
Characters: Ten (John Smith), Martha
Rating: G
Summary: Remember in Human Nature/Family of Blood, how the Doctor left Martha instructions? The part she fast forwarded through held a warning not let him eat pears. What if she let him eat a pear? *eyebrow raising*
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to BBC and RTD...or well, maybe Steven Moffat...at any rate, it's not mine.
Notes:If you want to watch the video that inspired this, it's a href="/SEVK3j4wJvU"here/a. Also, this is un-beta'd...sorry...
Martha discreetly dusted a book shelf in the corner of the study. This way, she could keep an eye on the Doctor, or rather Mr. John Smith. He read a book, Shakespeare's Hamlet, while he drank his tea. She was oddly fascinated by the way he held the book, the way his fingers almost seemed to caress the pages. She shook her head to clear it, and looked back to the shelf, giving her a moment to compose herself. "Snap out of it, Martha," she muttered under her breath.
When she turned her gaze back, he was eyeing a bowl of fruit on the table next to him. He picked up an apple, and examined it pensively, turning it in his hand, as if inspecting it for flaws. After a second or two, he replaced the red fruit carefully, perhaps having found a flaw, and picked up instead a ripe, yellow banana. He seemed deep in thought, as if remembering something distant and unclear.
Martha watched him surreptitiously, if your definition of 'surreptitiously,' actually means, 'really, really obviously and just quickly looking away if she was caught.'
He muttered something Martha couldn't quite hear from where she stood, but it almost sounded like, "Always take a banana to a party…" he slipped the piece of fruit into his jacket pocket, "For safe keeping." His hand reached up to his face, then dropped back down, almost as if he were surprised not to find glasses there. His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment.
"Something wrong, Mr. Smith?" Martha asked pleasantly.
He glanced up at her and shook himself of the thoughts he'd had, "No, everything is fine, thank you, Martha," he answered stoically.
He turned his attention back to the bowl, staring at it for a moment. Then, shifting several citrus fruits, he seemed to find what he was looking for. A pear.
Martha's eyes went wide. "Five, very important, five. Don't let me eat pears, I hate pears. John Smith is a character I made up, but I won't know that, I'll think I am him. And he might do something stupid like eat a pear. In three months, I don't want to wake up and be human and taste that."
"Mr. Smith," Martha began carefully, "You don't like pears."
"Don't be ridiculous, Martha," John Smith admonished, "Pears are perfectly lovely." He turned it in his hand, inspecting it as he had the apple before.
"Sir, I promise you—"
"Martha, I think I would know better than you do what I do and do not like to eat, wouldn't you say?" He asked a bit severely.
Martha hesitated under his stern gaze. He raised his eyebrows, demanding an answer.
"Yes, sir," she said grudgingly.
The Doctor bit into the pear and immediately spat the piece back out. He grabbed up his napkin and wiped his lips roughly, as if he couldn't get rid of the taste quickly enough. Then, grimacing, started wiping his tongue on the napkin.
"Heavens, but that's disgusting!" He all but shouted.
"I tried to warn you," Martha chuckled as he gulped down his tea, fast as he could, and poured himself another cup.