Chapter Three

"Ready for the real stuff?" Martha asked as she went into her hotel room and opened the mini bar.

"I think so. Any Jack Daniels in there?"

"Coming up." She poured one of the mini bottles into a glass and discretely added the amnesia solution. As she opened a small bottle of wine for herself as she phoned Tosh.

"Mission accomplished, you can give the satellite back." She told her. "Not tonight. It's been a long few days, I'll head back first thing in the morning." She handed Carlisle his glass then poured her wine. "Sure, and thanks, Tosh."

"You okay?" Carlisle asked. "You don't seem very happy."

"I'm fine. Like I said, this has been going on a while and I'm just tired." She was also upset that tomorrow Carlisle would remember nothing of today. She felt bereft and wished she didn't have to do it. But the rules were in place for a reason.

"I need to make a phone call, can I use the bedroom?"

Distracted, it took her a moment to register what he'd said. "What? Oh, uh. I need a shower anyway, you stay here."

Carlisle didn't need to make a phone call but he had spotted her putting something in his drink. He waited until he heard the shower turn on and tipped the contents of his glass into a potted plant.

He knew he should probably go. This woman was almost certainly bad news. In fact, since she'd tried to drug him, he could be positive she was bad news, even if she wasn't a bad person. But he felt drawn to her. He'd never met anyone like her before.

She was beautiful, intelligent, commanding and could handle herself in a crisis. He poured himself a fresh drink and sat down to wait for her.

III

As the water washed over her, Martha felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away. She hadn't let anyone affect her this deeply for years, and now she had to leave him, before anything had even had a chance to begin.

She wiped her eyes and tried not to think about it. She wasn't a child. She didn't fall to pieces at the slightest provocation, she carried on. Come hell or high water, she carried on.

And so they might only have one night together. A night he'd never remember. She'd make the most of that night, and treasure the memories enough for both of them.

Always assuming he was still out there when she was finished, of course.

III

He was standing by the window when she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a large white dressing gown with a matching towelling turban.

He turned and smiled at her, desire burning in his eyes.

"Come here," he told her and before she knew it they were in each others arms again. There was less urgency this time, but no less passion.

They didn't speak again, they didn't need to.

Her dressing gown fell to the floor, shortly followed by the towel and his clothes. Crumpling to the floor, they never made as far as the bedroom and he took her with an urgency and fervour matched only by her own.

III

As the sun dipped lower over the horizon, the room grew darker, yet neither made any move to turn on a light. Martha almost felt she could stay where she was forever, if given half a chance.

Carlisle was trailing his hand lazily over Martha's back as she lay on his chest.

"You know," he said, "I think this qualifies the weirdest day ever."

Martha smiled. "Just another day at the office for me."

"Really! I hope you don't sleep with every partner you have." He teased.

"Only the cute ones."

"Oh, you think I'm cute?"

"Well," she smiled, "in your case I made an exception."

"So I'm a charity case?" he asked indignantly.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." He kissed her forehead. "So, what happens now you've caught your bad guy?"

"Take him back to headquarters then start chasing the next one."

"How do you know where the next one is?"

"We monitor police reports for unusual activity, satellite readings for possible landings, UFO sightings, that sort of thing."

"And how did you end up doing… this? You didn't give me a proper answer before."

"Like I said, I ran into an alien, he saved my life, we went travelling in time and space for a while." She spoke unreservedly, knowing he would remember nothing in the morning. It was wonderful to speak freely about her life to someone new.

"Oh, time and space?"

"Well, he was a Time Lord."

"What does that make you, a Time Lady?"

She laughed. "Hardly." Her tone became serious. "No, he just needed someone with him. He was the last of his kind, and he was lonely."

"And you loved him."

"You don't miss a trick. Yeah, I loved him. For all the good it did me." She added softly.

"Aah, love is over rated, anyway."

"You don't mean that."

He sighed. "No, I guess I don't."

"What's it like?" she asked. "Finding The One and being loved back."

He didn't even question that she knew about his past, he expected nothing else. "It's like you're a child again, on Christmas eve, and you're so excited you can't sleep, because you know, you just know the next day is going to be wonderful."

"You're lucky to have had that."

"'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all?'" he asked.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's worse if you know what you're missing." She hesitated before asking her next question, afraid of hurting him. But they were being so open and honest, she hoped he wouldn't mind. "So, if I could change it, if I had the Doctor and his time machine here right now, and I could go back and make sure you never met her, would you want me to?"

"Doesn't changing history implode the universe or something?" he asked.

"Only a third of it,

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, well that's all right then."

"That's beside the point. You're avoiding the question."

"I know."

"I'm sorry," she looked contrite. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's okay. I'm just stalling for time."

She rested her head on his chest while he thought about his answer.

"No, I don't think so. Sometimes those memories have been all that's kept me going."

They lay in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. The room was nearly pitch dark and Martha gave a small shiver.

"Cold?" he asked.

"A bit."

"Then how about we order some room service and adjourn to the bedroom?"

III

When Martha awoke the next morning she saw the bed beside her was empty.

She supposed he'd awoken to find himself in a strange bed with a strange woman and no memory of how he'd got there, and decided to leave before Martha could awake and ask any awkward questions.

She sighed and pulled on her dressing gown.

"Good, you're up." he came in smiling, bearing two cups of coffee.

Martha's mouth opened and closed, but no sound issued. She sat down on the bed.

Carlisle handed her a cup and seemed top be enjoying her discomfort.

"So, what was supposed to happen?" he asked, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Wot?"

"That stuff you put in my drink last night, what was it supposed to do to me?"

"Make you forget." She mumbled. Her sleep addled brain was having trouble keeping up with the conversation. He knew, he'd seen her drug his drink, he hadn't drunk it, but even worse, he could remember everything she'd said last night!

She blushed and swallowed. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

"I'm sorry, this must be very awkward for you." He said sympathetically.

"I had to." She told him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "I wasn't allowed to tell you anything."

"Oh, its okay, I understand. Company policy, I'm sure."

She nodded dumbly.

"Well, why don't you go and take a shower, and then we can figure out what to do next."

Right now the only 'next' for her was getting him to take the drug. But she needed time to think, so she headed off to the shower as he suggested.

"Oh, and Martha?"

She turned back.

"You're never going to find The One if you're afraid to take a few risks."

Martha closed the bathroom door. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

III

When Martha emerged from the bedroom, showered and changed, she found Carlisle sitting at the table, buttering a slice of toast.

"I took the liberty of ordering breakfast, hope you don't mind. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

Martha didn't answer but sat opposite him and began helping herself.

"Tell me, what do you think is happening here?" she asked.

"I've got no idea, but I'm enjoying the journey."

"And how do you see this ending?"

Carlisle shrugged. "Don't know."

"You think it's easy? Or exciting, maybe?"

"No."

"Do you have any idea what it's like? How dangerous it is? What it's like to have to lie and hide so much of what you do?"

"No," he answered easily, as though she'd just asked if he wanted another cup of coffee. He leaned across the table and kissed her softly. "I just want to help, that's all. Let me take him back with you. Let me help you. I am a detective, you know, I have experience of catching bad guys."

"What about your job?"

"Called in sick."

"And they won't mind?"

"I haven't taken a day off sick in well over a year, I don't think they'll question it."

Martha shook her head. "I must be out of my mind." She told him. "Not to mention, Jack'll kill us both."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I guess it is."

"Such enthusiasm." He raised his eyebrows sardonically. "Good job I don't have low self esteem."

Martha couldn't help but smile.

III

Carlisle offered to take the first shift driving. He adjusted the seat while Martha loaded her cases in the back seat and injected the alien with the sedative again before getting in beside him.

He drove out of the car park and asked. "I'll bet this thing comes with a wicked sound system, no?"

"Don't you want to know where we're going?"

"Cardiff?"

"How do you-"

He smiled. "I told you, I'm a detective. You aren't the only one who can do a background check." He told her pointedly.

"Fair enough." She was impressed. Torchwood had pretty much erased her past. "So what sort of music do you want?"

"Got any soul music?"

Martha accessed the onboard computer. "Should have something."