I originally planned to finish a married man before continuing with this but today I just sat down and wrote this in less than an hour so I thought I may as well put it up.
"Well I don't know what you hope to gain from standing there sulking. Yes, I'm going out, yes I'm going with Joe and yes I am going to be leaving you on your own. So you can either be a sensible, mature adult and accept this opportunity to relax or you can act like a two year old and sulk until I get back. If I were you I'd chose option A and be done with it." It was the following night, and Martha was ready for Joe to pick her up from the house. Since the Doctor had stormed out of the parade, he had spent the rest of the night sulking as the Sergeant led a 'rifle cleaning session' and Martha, Mr Godfrey and the other ladies had made tea and sewed buttons back on uniforms. They then returned home and Martha had gone to bed. Alone. She didn't know where the Doctor slept that night. He wasn't talking to her. Or Joe. She wondered what the matter was. No she didn't. She knew what the matter was. At least she thought…
"I don't see what the problem is," she said. "I have managed to make a friend here, a friend who, unlike the rest of the world, doesn't care about my race or my gender. I would like to keep this friend and that's why we're doing something together. Joe dropped round all that stuff this morning and you were so rude to him he was trying to be helpful. No, scratch that, he was being helpful. And you practically kicked him out the door. My friend. Your friend." The Doctor didn't say anything. She reached out and touched his arm. He flinched away. She heard a hoot of a car horn outside.
"See, that'll be him now. So I'm going. I'll be back later, and when I am you can stop being so childish and ask me how it went? Or something?" She folded her arms across her chest. "You know what Doctor, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were… oh I don't know- jealous?" She spat the last word with contempt. There was no reaction. She sighed. "I'll see you later, then." She ran down the stairs and out the door. The Doctor stayed frozen in his position, staring out the window. He watched as she reached the battered old car and leaned in to hug Joe. He could hear them talking though he couldn't make out the words.
"Why are you doing this to me Martha Jones," he moaned as the car drove away.
III
"Joe!" beamed Martha, running along the path and embracing the young cockney warmly. He kissed her cheek gently and opened the door of the car for her.
"Hello gorgeous. How are we today?"
"Great," she said, wiggling back in the worn leather of the seats. "Where are we going then?"
"Odeon," he replied, twisting the ignition key. "It's about five miles away. Shouldn't take too long."
"Cool," she said.
"Cool? What's that mean, then?"
"Oh… uh it means…good," fumbled Martha. "Good. Where I come from. It means good."
"Good, cool," Joe mused as the car pulled away. "You are full of surprises." Martha shifted, uncomfortable. As much as she liked Joe Walker, she couldn't help her mind wandering back to the Doctor. The Doctor. Her Doctor. Or not… now. She swallowed, and felt a lump rise in her throat. He'd never been like that before, never point blank ignored her, never deliberately tried to make her feel small. She didn't know what to think.
Joe was whistling cheerfully as they drove along the lanes. Martha stared at her lap as she felt the wind stinging against her face.
"You look very nice," said Joe. Martha smiled at him.
"Thank you." They drove on.
IIII
"And here we are," said Joe grandly. "Miss Jones."
"Thank you Mr Walker," she giggled as he helped her out the car. He hooked his arm round hers and began to lead her towards the big building a little way ahead. She leaned closer against him- the Doctor apparently couldn't care less about where she was going so she might as well make a good time out of it. Screw him. She liked Joe. Joe liked her. It was none of the Doctor's business how much they liked each other.
She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "Thanks Joe. Really."
"What for?"
"You know what for," she said. "Just everything. It means a lot to me." Me, not us, she thought. The Doctor couldn't care less… oh Lord.
"You know I love to help a pretty girl like you," he replied. His hand strayed to the small of her back. She hesitated, then mentally shrugged her shoulders. The Doctor obviously didn't give a toss how she felt. How she acted. What she did. She forced the time travelling alien out of her mind and leaned into Joe. He grinned. "Never been to the cinema with a gal like you before," he said gruffly. Martha looked up at him, unsure of herself.
"No?"
"No," he said. "I usual go for the blonde gals. Yeh know. Pretty common all of em. Not you though. Never seen nobody who looks like you before who speaks like you before." Martha flushed and Joe squeezed her into him. "It's a compliment love."
"Then thank you," she mumbled. He brushed a stray hair from her cheek and their eyes met.
"What's the matter, hey?" asked Joe gently. "Anything I can do?"
"No," said Martha. "But thanks for asking." They entered the cinema and Martha stared around in wonder.
"But it looks like…a theatre," she said. He laughed softly, and rested an arm on her shoulder.
"That's what it is Martha, love," he said. "A movie theatre. What do you want to go and see?"
"I don't mind," she said. "I don't know what's on."
"All right love. You chose the next film."
"Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, Joe," Martha grinned. "Planning a second date."
"Said the girl who called our friendly little film a date," grinned Joe. Martha opened her mouth in protest- then let her jaw full slack.
"Alright you got me there," she admitted. "So we seeing this film then or not?"
Martha sat in the cinema, half watching the flickering black and white images on the big screen. She was fully aware that she was the only black person in the whole cinema, but it didn't bother her at all. Her mind was elsewhere- on the Doctor. She sighed, remembering how tense his shoulders were when he said goodbye, how cold and dismissive his eyes were. She looked up at the man sat beside her, seeing his relaxed arm resting across her shoulders, his warm eyes tinted with humour. Oh sod it.
She leant into his embrace. She felt him start, then relax, as his bought his arms around her gently. "What about this Doctor of yours then?" he whispered. A tidal wave of guilt washed up inside her.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "Let's just watch the... watch the film." Her voice broke.
"Hey, hey," he said. "Don't cry." Martha's lip trembled, and she felt a tear escape from her eyelid. He stopped it with her thumb.
"I'm sorry Joe," she said. "I know how to spoil a bit of fun."
"Don't worry about it, love," he said. "Come on you. Let's get out of here."
"Nah don't worry about it," he said, standing up. They walked out of the cinema and into the night. They sat together on a bench, Joe lit a fag. "Want one? Oh no, don't tell me. You don't like 'em do you?"
"That's right," she said.
"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked softly. "I wouldn't mind." Martha thought of the Doctor, alone in the house, waiting for her to return. But no, he wouldn't be waiting. He'd be in the TARDIS, furious at her for treating him so bad... and after all he'd done to the house, to the garden. He'd be cursing the day he decided to take her on her little trip that so inevitably escalated into so much more, begging and pleading for that 'oh so perfect' Rose Tyler to return from wherever she was.
"I don't know," she said. "I mean... yes please, Joe. I'm really sorry."
"Don't think on it, darling," he said kindly.
"Here we are then," said Joe. His mouth was set in a grim line, and Martha knew she'd hurt him.
"I'm honestly, really sorry," she said, close to tears again. He smiled, and pecked her on the cheek.
"Good night Martha, love," he said as she got out the car.
"Bye Joe." The car pulled away. With a sigh, she ran across the garden and thundered up the stairs. All the lights were turned off. "Doctor!" she called. Silence. She looked in the bedroom, the kitchen, and even the little bathroom. "Doctor!" Her heart pounded fast in her chest, tears ran down her face. He'd left, he'd really left her. "DOCTOR!"
"Martha?" there was a voice, but a woman's. She turned, it was Mrs May.
"Please," she said, scrubbing her face with the back of her hand. "Do you know where the Doctor's gone?"
"Yes dear. He went off with his friends."
"Friends? What friends? You mean... the home guard men?"
"Oh no, not those old men! No, some other men. Young. Wearing ever so odd clothes... sort of leather but trousers and shirt attached together, like overalls. And odd ears." Martha felt a little sick.
"Ears?"
"Yes. They were low down on the neck. I thought they must be brothers because both of them had low ears. And such pointed, white teeth. Now I come to think of it they may have been foreigners."
"And the Doctor went with them?"
"Well, he was asleep and they were carrying him out. And I confronted them and one said they were friends from London. And the Doctor had passed out so they were driving him to the hospital."
"And you just let him go?" Fear pounded through her body. She pushed past her landlady and ran into the street. "Where are you Doctor?"
