HERE, THE DOCTOR DOES BOOKWORM RESEARCH. PLEASE EXCUSE THE SHAMELESS NOD TO THE BUFFYVERSE. I'M A GREAT JOSS WHEDON FAN, AND FRANKLY, BOOKS ARE OUR FRIENDS.

AND REMEMBER, AS A WISE WOMAN ONCE WROTE, "REVIEWS ARE LOVE."

SEVEN

Waking was difficult. Moving even more so. The Doctor moaned at the horror of being pulled from a drug-induced slumber, and made a half-hearted mental note to find out what in God's name that black liquid was.

It took some work, but eventually, his eyes came fully open and he assessed the situation. He lifted his head; he was wearing his own blue shirt and pinstriped trousers, though he had no idea what had become of his tie, jacket or shoes. He looked around at the grey shadows in the dark room. A wardrobe, bookshelves, staircase. He realised he was back in his own bedroom inside the TARDIS. A temporary sense of relief overcame him, until it dawned on him that the last thing he remembered was being at the inn with the inhuman rubberneckers, whom he had thought they'd lost when he'd moved the TARDIS to Charing Cross.

So why the hell had they brought him back here?

Better question: he'd been naked when they came into the room, so who had put his clothes back on him?

He shook that one away. Hard as it was to believe, there really were a few things in this universe that he just didn't want to know.

He was comforted to see Martha slumbering by his side. He checked to make sure she was breathing – all seemed fine. She was also fully clothed once more, in her own jeans and his white dress shirt. But he wondered what had become of Jack and Feeno. He sort of hoped they were still at the inn. Whatever was going on, it would be an indicator that they were 'below the radar,' as it were, and that they would be able to help from outside the situation.

He leaned over and switched on the bedside lamp. His hopes were dashed. There, lying on the floor near the foot of the stairs, were Jack and Feeno, undoubtedly having been tranquilized with the same brutally drowsy black fluid. Their heads were supported by cushions from the sofa, and they were covered with an extra blanket the Doctor kept in the wardrobe.

The Doctor's tan trenchcoat, suit jacket and tie were draped over the back of a nearby chair, and his red trainers were sitting neatly on the seat. Martha's shoes and brassiere were piled carefully under the same chair. Jack's peacoat, braces and boots were hanging from the post at the bottom of the stairway's bannister, and Feeno's stolen cloak was hanging from a hook in the wall.

The rubberneckers had gone to a lot of trouble to bring them back here and make them comfortable. That must mean that they were intending to keep them in this room for a while. Perhaps he could find out who they were and what they wanted before they came back and started making demands.

But if he was going to immerse himself in literature, he'd need some backup. He set about trying to wake Jack first, as he was the one with the most weapons/combat training, and he was the most impervious to physical harm.

"Jack! Jack!" the Doctor whispered as he jostled his friend. "Wake up!"

Captain Jack did not stir.

The Doctor gave up whispering and shouted, "Jack! Wakey wakey!"

This time, Jack groaned, and the words, "Your husband won't be home for another hour," came out.

With a hearty roll of his eyes, the Doctor said, "Jack, I know you're awake."

Jack opened his eyes and smiled. "Eh, just thought I'd mess with you a bit." He sat up and looked around. "Where the hell are we?"

"We're in the TARDIS, in my bedroom," the Doctor explained. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Jack thought. "Erm... we were at that inn. You know, the one with the Jewish couple and the 'no funny business'. Feeno and I... " he looked at the Doctor, who raised one eyebrow. "... conducted our affairs, and then we fell asleep. And now we're here."

"You don't remember seeing anyone come into your room?"

"No," Jack said. "Do you?"

"Yes," the Doctor answered. "Those rubberneckers snuck in just as we were drifting off, and injected us with some kind of black fluid, which put us both out."

"Probably the same thing happened to me, then. The same sort of tranquilizer, don't you think?"

"Most likely. And then they injected Martha with something else just as I was losing consciousness, and I have no idea what that did to her. All I know is that she's breathing."

"Well, that's a relief."

"I'm going up there," the Doctor explained, gesturing to the loft that wrapped around the top of the room, which was packed with books. "I'm going to try to find out who they are and what they want. I'll need you to go have a look around the TARDIS and find out whether we're alone in here. My thinking is, we're not."

"Aye aye," Jack said. He stood, groaning as a sharp pain blasted him on the right side of his head. "How do you plan on researching these things? They look human, and we didn't catch any names."

"I'm going to start with the black liquid," the Time Lord told him, sitting down on the bed near Martha. "Maybe that will narrow it down."

Jack cradled his throbbing head. "Well, as criteria, you should consider the fact that this particular black liquid seems to cause a wicked migraine in human beings."

"Duly noted," said the Doctor, turning to face his lovely, sleeping companion.

He shook her gently. "Martha? Martha?" he said softly, not wishing to startle her. He didn't know what kind of poison those things had put in her blood, and had no idea whether a minor shock could kill her, put her in a coma or turn her into a giant turtle. He was flying blind here, and he needed Martha awake, as she was the only one who could say what she was feeling as a result of the injection, and she was better equipped than any of them to diagnose and/or deal with her condition.

Meanwhile, Jack woke Feeno and explained the situation. Feeno was dismayed indeed, but he assured Jack and the Doctor that he'd stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them and do whatever it might take to win the day.

Those were his exact words. Jack just smiled and said "Thanks." Sometimes, he really wasn't sure how to respond to Feeno's literalness and formality.

The Doctor tried again to rouse Martha, then tried again, eventually resorting to shouting. Nothing could convince her to awaken. Whatever she'd been injected with, it was something much more potent than the black liquid.

Jack said, "Why don't you try again in about a half-hour, and in the meantime, hit the books. If you can find out who put us here, then you can probably figure out how to help Martha. Feeno and I will case the joint, find out if we're being held hostage or what. Do you have any weapons?"

"I keep them for emergencies," the Doctor said flatly. He gestured toward a door near the bed. Jack and Feeno entered, and seconds later emerged, each with a stunning ray gun and a couple of power reserve cartridges.

"It's a big ship, Jack," the Doctor warned.

"I know that, Doctor. Just in case, is there another way out?"

"No, the only way in or out is through the control room. If I were you, I would start there.

"Good idea," Jack said. He gazed sadly at Martha. "Get her back, eh?"

"I can think of nothing else," the Doctor said, barely moving his lips.

The Doctor's next attempt at waking Martha was fruitless. He even tried getting into her mind, to try to provoke her through her dreams, but even this avenue proved unsuccessful.

He glanced at the clock; almost time to try again. Jack and Feeno had been gone nearly an hour, and he'd heard nothing. He wasn't sure when it would be time to worry, as he wasn't sure how long it would take for them to explore the entire TARDIS. He himself had never attempted to cover the entire vessel in a day before.

The text he was looking at practically made his eyes go crossed. It was written in tiny, tiny lettering, and it was written in Nevolish Sral. It was a language with which he had a passing familiarity, as he'd visited the planet more than once, but he was by no means fluent. He was just about to give his 900-year-old eyes a break, when the word sedative jumped out at him, followed by the word black.

He finished the paragraph excitedly, going over it a second time to make sure he'd gotten it right. His hearts were pumping now at this sign of progress!

He marked the passage with a bit of paper, tore off his glasses and bounded down the stairs. He silently willed Martha to awaken this time, hoping he would not have to resort to his next plan: a bucket of cold water.

As he placed his hand across her forehead, his luck began to turn. Martha actually stirred! He said her name excitedly, and she opened her eyes. She was disoriented, but she was awake. He sighed with relief, and pulled her to him. He kissed the top of her head, and she weakly hugged him back.

"What's happened?" she asked, looking around. He explained everything, including the fact that he'd found out the name of the species that had caused this.

"What's a Namuh Gnieb?" she asked.

"I don't know," he told her. "But I'm going to find out."