Two reviewers mentioned the "walk around like you own the place" advice that Ten gave to Martha in Shakespearean London, and how it was really a glib thing for a white man (who really ought to be more responsible) to say to a black woman who is out of her element, out of her time. (For what it's worth, I really feel like Thirteen should have briefed Ryan and Yaz a lot more, concerning the do's and don'ts of 1955 Montgomery. Not that she would want, in any way, to remind them of "their place," but to keep them safe, there's an etiquette. Once they know the score, Ryan and Yaz are free to do as they choose with the Doctor's advice.)

Anyway, under that heading, the last two chapters have necessitated some discussion of the Doctor's metamorphosis into the smaller, thinner, oft-underestimated Thirteen. Mentions of her personal adjustments, both good and bad, have been made, including not being able to just walk around like she owns the place, and being sometimes reminded of her reduced physical strength. It's fun to write, it's fun to read (I hope), and it's fun to think about. But it's all going somewhere, this gender-adjustment thing... it's not just two friends shooting the breeze.

Okay, here we go with the actual "adventure" of the story! If you'll recall, the Doctor told Martha she needed her help with something... Enjoy!

FOUR

The sun had long-since set on New York City, and two women stopped in the middle of a sidewalk, about two-and-a-half long city blocks from New Amsterdam.

"This is the place," said the Doctor, looking up at the crumbling structure to their right. This was the six-story building that had partially caved in, and had led her to New Amsterdam's ED.

It already had a chain link fence around it, and warning signs discouraging passers-by from getting close.

"Doctor, this looks incredibly unstable," Martha pointed out, concerned.

"I don't care," the Doctor replied. "My friend is in there. With a dangerous creature that has already begun climbing out of its cocoon."

"How long has it been here?" Martha wondered, still staring up at the precarious ten-story building.

"It incubates for fifty years or so," said the Doctor. "This building was built around it, as part of the pupating process."

"So, the building is part of its cocoon?"

"Yeah."

"That's mental."

"You're not wrong," the Doctor said. "For a while, it was an office building, but the creature would have done everything in its power to discourage that, even though it's sleeping. It's an adaptation. Again, all part of the pupating process."

"What kinds of things could it do to discourage the building being used?"

"Make it so hot that even air conditioning units couldn't cut through it," the Doctor said, shrugging. "Create odors. Interfere with the wiring. Things like that."

"All while it's asleep? That's amazing."

The Doctor nodded. "But then, in the last few months, it's known that it was going to emerge soon, and it would want people around, as snacks for the fully-grown creature, once the metamorphosis is complete, so it lowered the temperature, and made a safe, comfy home for squatters. Well, safe apart from the fact that some of them were bound to be eaten."

"So how did your friend get trapped in there?"

"There's a civilization in a neighbouring galaxy that has been keeping track of the Marifallon – that's the name of the species – and its activities throughout the universe, as best they can. Given how destructive it can be when one of the larvae decides to pupate somewhere inconvenient, really someone needs to keep track of them. Anyway, they realised that emergence was imminent, and called me to deal with it."

"Of course they did," Martha said with a smile.

"So the four of us went in there to see what could be done about preventing the metamorphosis in a non-violent way. Yasmin went off in her own direction, because that's what you lot always do, even when I tell you not to, and she got pulled in by some bait. Probably the mirage of a struggling child or something. Then the building collapsed. My other two friends ran for it and made it out, but I got stuck, as you know, in some of the rubble. I used to be able to run faster... had longer legs. Anyway, none of us has heard from Yaz. There will be something like a perception filter around her and any others trapped with her, that kept the first responders from finding them."

Martha's face scrunched into sadness. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, be helpful!" the Doctor said, cheerfully.

"I plan to be. How many others do you think are in there with her?"

"Based on the adult Marifallon's size and average food consumption, I would say there are between two and four others trapped with Yaz. We're going to get them out, and you and I can deal with their injuries and whatnot."

Martha completely understood this, and why the Doctor and her friends couldn't just rush Yaz and the others into New Amsterdam, after possible alien contact, and injuries that might defy what Earth-based doctors could conceive of. There was a good chance the victims would be covered in a residue that her colleagues would want to identify, but would not be able to, which would cause quarantine, inquiries that would go nowhere, and resources drained from the hospital, that it could not afford, not to mention a panic, if anyone realised it was alien. Martha had agreed, it would be easier just to have a couple of alien-savvy medics on-scene.

"I could call the NYC UNIT office, but without Kate Stewart about, I don't think I trust them," the Doctor had told Martha. "Especially since I look like this, you know?"

"I get it," Martha had said, knowing all too well the biases that could arise in a close-quartered militaristic situation.

"They'd probably try to kill the Marifallon, and I want to avoid that, if I can."

And so, Martha had brought a large military-grade duffel, containing myriad medical devices and supplies, everything the Doctor had recommended, and then some.

The Doctor looked away then, and fixed her eyes on two people crossing the street – a tall, young black man, and a middle-aged white man, of medium height. "There they are," she said, with her brilliant smile.

When they were within earshot, the shorter of the two men shouted out, in a thick cockney, "Great to see you, Doc! Thought we might've lost you forever!"

"Nah, you'll never lose me!" she shouted back.

The two guys reached the kerb, and the taller man lifted the Doctor off her feet in a relieved hug, and she laughed. This action reminded Martha distinctly of incidents when the Doctor, in the boisterous, pin-striped-wearing incarnation, had lifted her off her feet, in a relieved hug just like this. She reckoned it would be easy to see this as proof of things having changed – the Doctor was now smaller, lighter, blonder, female, and companions could lift her, instead of the other way round. But rather, she saw it as more evidence that the Doctor was the same person as ever. Relationships with companions were caring and intense, all about danger, life, reassurance, and joy.

It made her feel drawn to the Doctor again, and to her friends.

When the Doctor was back on her feet, she said, "Martha Jones, a.k.a Helen Sharpe, meet Graham O'Brien, and his grandson, Ryan Sinclair."

"Step-grandson," Ryan corrected.

Graham reached out to shake the hand of the woman to whom he had just been introduced, and as he did so, he asked, "Sorry, I'm not clear – what do I call you?"

"Call me Martha," she said. "But if anyone else asks, I'm Helen."

"Erm… why?" Ryan asked, now shaking her hand as well.

"Call it Alien Witness Protection," she said, borrowing a bit from something the Doctor had said while they were having drinks.

"Seriously?" asked the young man, with a delighted, child-like look on his face.

"For lack of a better description, yes," Martha replied.

"Cool!" Ryan commented emphatically.

"Martha and I travelled together for a bit, a long, long time ago," said the Doctor. "After she left, she'd done such a phenomenal job of saving the planet, I recommended her to UNIT. She became the target of an alien threat, and had to move countries and change her identity."

"Saving the planet?" Ryan asked. "D'you mean this one?"

Martha laughed at the honesty of his reactions. She found it endearing, though wondered if he was perhaps younger than he looked.

"How'd you do that, love?" Graham asked. Martha found him charming, as well.

"Can we get into that later?" the Doctor asked. "Yaz is still in there, and the emergence is happening any time now. The initial movement has already begun – it's what caused the collapse, so we've got to move quickly. As if our friend's life depended upon it."

"Right," said Graham. "Where do we go?"

"Follow me, gang," said the Doctor. "Or, allons-y, if you like, Martha."

Martha chuckled, and followed her old friend into a dark passage between the chain link and a neighbouring building. It was about eighteen inches wide, and the Doctor had no trouble walking at a normal pace through it, though her coat brushed against the brick and metal on either side. Martha wouldn't have had a hard time either, were it not for her bulky duffel. Ryan and Graham both had to turn sideways, and both grumbled a bit.

When they were on the side of the building that was opposite to the street, the Doctor located a padlocked gate. She pulled the sonic screwdriver from her pocket and it lit up and buzzed, and the lock popped open.

Martha laughed delightedly. "There's a sound I haven't heard in years! Didn't realise I missed it until now!"

"Glad I could help," the Doctor said, opening the gate, and ushering her friends through it. She did not lock it behind her, but was careful to shut it, so as not to attract attention, should anyone be paying slight attention.

They looked about and found a few stray cinderblocks which Ryan stacked, and a few stray boards which the Doctor and Graham laid across the blocks, to form a makeshift table. Martha then pulled her instruments from the rucksacks, including a roll of white paper to cover the table, and began laying out the most likely needed implements.

"It seems like if a construction crews has already been here to put up the fence, there might be a demolition date already set," Ryan speculated.

"You're probably right," the Doctor said. "Another fun deadline to push, since no-one knows there's anything alive in there."

"And if they've been here already…" he said, beginning to look about in the dark. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and turned on the flashlight, casting it about. "There! I went on a call with my instructor to a construction site, and they had one of these, for locking up their smaller equipment at night. It's weighted with cement at the bottom so it can't be easily stolen."

He had spotted a large metal box between the fence and the unstable structure.

Graham leaned to his left and whispered proudly to Martha, "He's training to be an electrical engineer. Clever, that one."

"Nice!" Martha replied.

"What sorts of tools do you think we'll need?" asked Graham of Ryan.

Ryan replied, "I'm just hoping for hard-hats."

"Good point," the Doctor remarked. She walked over and sonicked the box open, Ryan pulled out four white hard-hats, and each of them donned one. The Doctor also reached into the box and grabbed a hand-held, 500-watt soldering iron/welding gun.

"Whoa," Ryan said. "That thing is serious! Do you know how to use that?"

"Of course," she replied trying it out, bouncing it a bit in her right hand. "Though, I haven't handled one in a while... don't remember it being so heavy. Used to have thicker wrists. But, it could come in handy!" She then reached into the box and found a pair of wire cutters, snipped off the tool's power cord, and sonicked it.

"And now it's portable?" Martha asked.

"Yep!" the Doctor chirped, stuffing the device into the front of her waistband.

Then, began to debrief Ryan and Graham. She was going to go in first, and they were to follow her path, like when you follow someone's steps through deep snow. Yaz and the others were likely toward the centre of the building. They would have to look hard, because there was a perception-filter-like shroud over them, but the closer they got, the easier it would be to hear them call out, see colours of their clothing, etc. They had to move carefully, quietly, disturbing as little of the rubble as possible, because, obviously, it was incredibly unstable.

"You guys go, I'll be ready when you come down," Martha said. She noticed that Ryan's phone was still in his hand. She grabbed it from him, programmed in her number, and handed it back. "Just in case you need me. And Ryan? if you can, I'd appreciate updates every now and then, just so I know you lot aren't dead or captured by the Marifallon."

"Yes ma'am," he said to her earnestly, making her smile, and shake her head at the same time.

Over the next half-hour, two texts had come in from Ryan: "The Doctor's found a way in that doesn't look suicidal. Win." That was followed twenty minutes later by, "We're still okay. Claustrophobic. Slow going."

Then, at the forty-minute mark, Martha's phone went plink-plink again, and the text from Ryan read, "Haven't got to Yaz yet, but coming back down."

"Are you all okay?" she texted back.

"No one is hurt."

She sighed, and began to pace.

Ryan himself was the first to emerge from the building, about another forty minutes later, followed by Graham, then the Doctor.

"What's happened?" she asked them.

"We reached a point where we couldn't fit through anymore," Graham said to Martha.

"Correction," Ryan said. "You and I reached a point where we couldn't fit through anymore. The Doctor did fine."

"Oh," Martha said. "So now…"

"Now, it has to be you and me," the Doctor said to her. "I could've gone further, but the lads… they're too bulky."

Graham exaggeratedly sucked in his gut. "Oi, easy now. Working on it."

"No… both of you, your shoulders are too broad. You've got bigger arms, a bigger torso, a bigger waist, bigger feet, bigger everything," the Doctor said. "And Ryan's over six feet tall! Plus he's got dyspraxia! I've got to go in with Martha now."

Martha frowned at Ryan. "You went in there with dyspraxia? Are you kidding me?"

He waved away her comment. "Oh, save it, I'm fine. I do crazy stuff with the Doctor all the time."

"A person who can't ride a bike should not be trying delicately to crawl through a falling-down building," she scolded. "Can you even ride a bike?"

"Erm…" he said.

"Point is," interrupted Graham, saving face for his grandson. "Ryan and I can't get to Yaz, and someone's got to get to her, because the Doc can't do it alone. No-one should. So, Dr. Jones, you're up."

The Doctor looked at her and said, "I was able to stabilise things in a few places by soldering rebars across one another, but I can't widen anything. That's too much to ask."

"I get it," Martha said. Absently, she handed the stethoscope she'd been wearing round her neck off to Graham. She picked up a roll of bandages and used it to tie off her hair, and stuff it inside her hard-hat, then used it to fasten the hard-hat to her head. She stuffed the rest of the bandaging in her pocket, then grabbed a tube of disinfecting ointment off the makeshift table and did the same. Then, she said, "Okay, Doctor. Point me in the right direction. Unless… do you need a breather?"

"No, I just want to get up there, and get Yaz and the others out," she replied. "I'll take a breather later."

"Okay, Doctor… doctors," Ryan said, exaggerating the 's'. "Good luck. Text if there's anything you need."

Martha patted his arm, and then followed the Doctor round to another side of the building. "This is nerve-wracking," Martha said. "Been a long time since I've done anything like this."

"You've got the heart of a champion, Martha Jones," the Doctor said.

"I've got the heart of a doctor," Martha replied. "I can't not do this, as long as there are people up there that need seeing-to."

"Otherwise you wouldn't?" the Doctor asked.

Martha chuckled. "No, we both know I would do it just because you asked."

"Good thing, too," the Doctor said. "Because I really need you."

"I guess if it were back in the old days, I'd have to do it alone, eh?"

"Yep, or we'd recruit. Or, I'd have to leave them up there, and wait for the Marifallon to emerge, and try to get to the hostages as soon as the building fell, hoping to catch them before they were eaten, and having to deal with much more severe injuries. I mean, I would've got it done, but it would have been messy, and even riskier," the Doctor replied, and it was clear that this had already occurred to her.

"Okay," Martha said, genuinely thinking about what her friend had said. Then, "Erm, Doctor, what if some of the hostages are men, or are bigger people?"

"Then we'll call for reinforcements. I wanted to avoid involving any others because of the danger of the Marifallon emerging, but if we have to, we can get a proper rescue crew in to open up the side of the building, and hope it gets done quickly, and without any of us getting arrested. And meanwhile, guide out the ones who will fit. But that was on my mind even when Ryan and Graham were with me… though it was moot, because they aren't even able to get to the hostages."

"Okay. I trust you."

The Doctor stopped, and turned, taking Martha by the upper arms. The Doctor had done this numerous times to her, but never quite so gently. She was illustrating her very point, without realising it, with this one gesture. "But you and I, Martha, we can get at least that far! We can stabilise our way, we can fit through the tight spots, minimise the injuries. Two heads are better than one, and four hands are better than two. This is not something I could have done before, ever. None of my previous bodies would have done, and just this once, Ryan and Graham haven't got what it takes. I'm so glad you're here."

So... thoughts? ;-) Don't hesitate/forget to leave a review and let me know what they are!