A/N: You see, it is a Doctor Who fanfic. As always, any reviews and constructive criticism welcomed.
Chapter 1
Martha Jones jerked awake, rolled straight out of her bunk and landed painfully on the floor. She lay there for several moments, trying to recall what had just happened. Failing to remember anything, she decided that it was just a nightmare before unsteadily pushing herself to her feet.
Her berth on the TARDIS was small, containing little more than a bed, a wardrobe and a toilet, but it was comfortable, and more than adequate in her opinion. She leaned against the wall, peeling her sweat-soaked shirt away from her back. She'd found the shirt, along with some loose-fitting trousers, in the TARDIS wardrobe and now kept them specifically for sleeping in. Not that she ever got much chance to sleep.
She quickly checked herself over for possible injuries, almost without thinking. Upon discovering little more than a pounding headache and a few bruises, she again turned her attention to recalling the dream, only to be interrupted by a rhythmic clanging noise coming from the corridor outside. Before her sleep-dulled mind had a chance to register this, the door slid open and a man's face appeared in the entrance. With great difficulty, she forced her eyes to focus on him.
His hair was extremely ruffled, giving the impression that he'd just been standing on a windswept mountain summit admiring the view. He seemed to be sweating slightly, and his glasses looked like they might slide off his nose at any moment. He pushed them back into position before smiling at her warmly.
"Alright?" asked the Doctor. Martha guessed he'd heard her fall and had just sprinted here from the TARDIS' control room.
"Yeah… I'm fine." She spoke steadily, her brain trying to remember how her mouth worked. "It was just a dream…"
The Doctor's expression changed. He looked at her quizzically, with just a hint of scepticism. "A dream?"
"Well, more a nightmare actually," she admitted. "But it's nothing. I'm fine."
His expression shifted again. Was that… concern? Worry, even?
"What was it about?" he asked. He did sound concerned, she noticed.
"I… I don't really remember…"
"Anything at all?" he pressed.
"No… Oh, wait, yes. There was a snake."
"A snake? Is that it?" The concern seemed to have lifted slightly.
"Yep. Sorry, that's it."
"Oh, well that's alright then." He was suddenly cheerful again, and seemed to have lost all interest in whatever Martha's dream might have been about. "Don't you human doctors swear an oath over a snake or something?"
She wasn't surprised by his sudden change of direction. It always happened whenever he didn't want to talk about something. "Yeah, the Hippocratic Oath. You have to swear it before becoming a doctor." Even half-asleep, her mind still supplied her with knowledge from medical school almost automatically.
"Strange… Incidentally, did you know that humans are one of the few species in the known universe who dream?"
"Really?" She was genuinely surprised by that. But, now that she thought of it, it seemed to make sense. It was entirely possible for something to be alive and yet not dream.
"Oh yes," he replied, carried away by his enthusiasm now. "It's a strange, some would say pointless, ability, but I've always been fascinated by it. Anyway, I'd better go."
As he turned to leave, a thought struck Martha. "Doctor," she asked, "do you dream?"
He stopped instantly. He pushed his glasses up his nose again before turning to answer.
"…Sometimes." He paused again. "But I've never had a nightmare though. Shame really, I've always wondered what one feels like."
"Well they're not very nice, I assure you."
"Still… Anyway, like I said, must go." He pulled his sonic screwdriver from one of his many pockets and tossed it from hand to hand as he spoke. "One of the temporal landing stabilisers seems to have become depolarised."
"It's what?"
"Oh, sorry, yes. It's, errr… errrm…"
There was a loud bang and the room shook violently, sending Martha flying into the wall. She stumbled and fell onto the floor for the second time in as many minutes.
"Broken?" she suggested as she climbed to her feet again.
"Yep, that's the one!" He gave her a manic grin before racing out of the door, screwdriver in hand.
-----
She found him in one of the ship's many engine rooms, crouched over some monstrously complicated piece of machinery. The sonic screwdriver's blue tip whirred softly as he ran it over the side of a long, cylindrical tank. He noticed her reflection in the metal and looked up as she entered.
"Ah, so you're awake. No more bad dreams?"
"Nope."
"Good. Anyway, that's this fixed." He pocketed the screwdriver, stood up and kicked the tank. A burst of steam shot from a nearby valve, and a nearby piece of machinery began making strange noises. Martha suddenly noticed something.
"Doctor, isn't that a-"
"A scuba tank, yeah. Works quite well actually." He smiled at her.
"And that's-"
"An M.R.I. scanner. Bits of it, anyway. You'd think it was made to fit."
"And-"
"Bicycle pump," he interrupted again. Then he noticed her strange expression. "Hey, don't look at me like that! You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to get parts for a TARDIS these days. Especially since…" He looked away and ran his fingers through his hair before continuing. She knew what he'd been going to say. "Well… you know, I've had to improvise. Earth technology is the best I've found so far. Somehow it just…works."
"Yeah, but… a bicycle pump?"
Hs sighed and shook his head in mock exasperation. "Look… Oh, forget it, you wouldn't understand." He nodded his head towards a nearby door before walking towards it himself. "Come on."
"What are we doing now?"
"Deciding where and when to land, what else?" He looked back and grinned at her again. She sprinted after him eagerly.
-----
They spent the entire walk to the control room excitedly discussing the many destinations they had to choose from.
"What about some interesting period of Earth's history?" suggested Martha as they arrived at their destination. "We haven't been back to Earth in quite a while, so I was just thinking…"
"Well, I'm open to suggestions."
"I don't know… The Romans, perhaps, or the Greeks? Ancient Egypt? The Aztecs or Maya? Or how about-"
"Aha!" exclaimed the Doctor suddenly, making her jump.
"What is it?" she asked, feeling slightly worried.
"Han Dynasty China!" He exclaimed again. "One of the greatest civilisations of the ancient world!"
"Yeah, why not?" she said, relieved. She'd thought there'd been something wrong just then.
"You know the Chinese invented the helicopter?"
"You're kidding me."
"No, really. I got to test fly the prototype."
"How did that go?"
"Not too well… Hit a tree, actually. Complete write off. They never forgave me. Anyway, are we going or not?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Right then. I'll just set the contr-"
At that moment a deep, whirring sound began to fill the room. The Doctor stopped and listened. Then he spun around to face the main panel and noticed that the central green column was undulating gently.
"What!?"
"…Doctor?" Martha was genuinely worried now. "What's happening?"
"WHAT!?" he said again, staring at the column, not hearing her.
"Doctor?"
Without warning, he suddenly ran to the controls and began hammering at them frantically. "No, no, stop!"
"DOCTOR!"
He jumped. "What? Oh, sorry."
"What's happening?"
"It's the TARDIS. Looks like she's picked our destination for us."
"Must have got sick of us bickering."
The Doctor looked at her indignantly. "Hey, we weren't bickering! And besides, the TARDIS can't land herself. Unless…"
The noise gradually subsided as the TARDIS settled back into the normal flow of spacetime.
"Ah, we've arrived!" The Doctor seemed fairly happy in spite of what had just happened. He walked around the console to the external monitor. "Right then, let's see where we are!" He switched it on and a huge, childlike grin spread across his face. "Oh yes… brilliant! I've always wanted to come here!"
"Doctor, where are we?" said Martha uncertainly. She still wasn't quite sure what had just happened.
He nodded towards the door. "See for yourself. You're so going to love this!"
She walked to the door uncertainly, and laid her fingers on the handle.
"Go on," he encouraged her. "I promise you you'll like it."
Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door, looked outside and gasped.
A/N: As far as I'm aware, the ancient Chinese did invent the helicopter, at least according to QI. Whether they succeeded in building one, I don't know. Either way, if you have any complaints about the historical accuracy of that particular reference, then take them up with Stephen Fry, not me.