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"Doctor?" Martha asked as she struggled to keep up. They were hurrying down the hall to someplace unknown in the depths of the TARDIS.

"Yeah?"

"Doctor, can you please slow down?"

He stopped, and she nearly blew past him in her haste. He stood and looked at her. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to leave you behind."

She broke eye contact and stared at the floor. She knew that she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding her frustration, and she was all right with that. She put her hands on her hips and gave an exasperated exhale. "So why did you?"

"Well, I suppose because my legs are longer than yours."

"No…" she said. She choked on her words – they barely came out. "I mean today. This morning… afternoon, whatever. When I woke up, you weren't there. Couldn't you at least have had the courtesy to…"

"Martha, I didn't sleep," he said. "I couldn't. I was too… I don't know, agitated. I had to get up."

"It wasn't nice."

"I'm sorry. Next time I'll leave a note."

He took her hand again and began walking, a bit more slowly this time, as Martha ruminated over his words.

Several twists and turns later, they arrived at a door. The Doctor opened it and pulled her inside. The lighting was dim and grey, almost rustic, and it reminded Martha of the rooms in which she spent so much time on Lewogue, nursing Nayovi back to health. The shape of the room was pentagonal, and the walls seemed to be made of stacked flagstone, ornamented with mementos. The room had figurines, icons, stacks of paper and scrolls, hanging symbols, dried flowers, all anchored by shallow shelves lining certain parts of the walls. It was clearly a room meant as a remembrance. Beneath their feet was very much the same flagstone, but a purple and green carpet stretched across the space, covering most of the area. Martha looked about confusedly for a few seconds as the Doctor shut the door behind them. She noticed that the door seemed to disappear, and it felt like they were in one of those locked room mysteries.

"What is this?" she asked.

"In a minute," he said. "First…"

He raised his hands until they were both at the level of her head. He seemed to be demonstrating the width of her face without actually touching her. He paused this way, and his eyes were extremely intense. She even noticed him breathing heavily.

And then he grabbed her and kissed her.

It was like that first time, back in the hospital when he kissed her as a "genetic transfer." His hands burned her cheeks and his lips burned the rest of her. She was so taken aback, so shocked, she couldn't move. She couldn't even kiss back. And when he let go, she was left reeling with a goofy look on her face.

"Please don't tell me that was nothing," she mused.

"It wasn't," he said.

"Good."

"Do you want to know why I left you this morning?"

"Yes."

"Martha, you have to believe me: I didn't want to. I wanted nothing more than to wake up with you, and… I don't know, maybe go again."

"Go again?"

He sighed, but didn't break eye contact. "Yeah."

"Whoa. Could you do that?"

"Eye on the ball, please. Anyway, I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of my feelings. But not just that." He was poised as if to say something else, but nothing else was forthcoming. And then, in lieu of explanation, he said, "I'll show you."

He removed the sonic from his trouser pocket and pointed it at one of the walls. It opened, he took her hand, and they stepped through. Once again, the door closed behind them.

She knew that the TARDIS was an impossible place, but what she saw here absolutely took her breath away. For a time, she stood transfixed, looking about with her mouth hanging open.

"Martha, Lewogue magic is powerful, as you know," he said. "But it manifests as artificiality, especially those based on desire or fantasy. They are not particularly rooted in time or space. When Lewogue magic comes to be, it just… is."

"Uh-huh," she nodded, still looking around. She looked behind them to see if the door was still there. She saw a flagstone wall, but that was all – she could not see how or if it would open.

"Are you listening?" he asked, watching her eyes dart from place to place.

"Yes," she said, shifting his eyes to his. "Yes."

"Which stories did Nayovi tell you when she gave you the icons?"

Martha closed her eyes and tried to shut out the magnificent and absurd sight around her. "Erm, one was a man who desired to become… a Gladiator, I think. And he got rich and famous…"

"And stayed that way, because when the truth came out, it was his destiny."

"Yeah."

"Okay, and what else?"

"A guy who wanted to travel the cosmos, but the truth was that he was not a man of the universe, so he went home to his family."

"Did Nayovi mention how long it took for the truth to manifest?"

"No," Martha said. "I just assumed that these people got what they wanted…"

"And the next day, they would know what they wanted to know?"

"I suppose."

"I was afraid of that," he said. "Martha, that man, the traveller, Naphil? He travelled for forty-five years before the truth finally manifested and he was called home to his family. By then, they had moved on. His wife had remarried, his children were grown, he didn't recognise his grandchildren."

Her eyebrows went up. "Oh. Wow."

"Yeah," he muttered, now looking about the impossible space himself.

"So what are we doing here?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and sighed. "I have a long history with Lewogue," he said. "I've helped them out a lot, and they've got me through some tough times. Back… a long time ago, I was at a point where I just didn't want to go on. I was licking my wounds and feeling sorry for myself, and clairvoyants of Lewogue were very kind to me. They allowed me to rest and complain and live with them without judgement. While I was there, they were attacked by the Automatons, and I built a sonic device that disabled their mechanisms. As thanks…"

"…they gave you the icons of Vaennar the moth and Aturra the hart."

"Yes. And just like you, I held onto them for a while, sure of what I wanted, but unsure of whether I should have it. One day, I was at the end of my rope again, the universe was such a cruel place… I had tried to save a planet and wound up destroying it. I thought that I wasn't meant to have this life. I mean, I never told you this, Martha, but as a kid, I failed all my exams, stole this TARDIS, and struck out on my own just because I was bored. I've been sort of haphazardly putting out fires all over the unvierse for going on eight hundred years now, and I began to wonder if this was really for me. People still died, things still fell apart – was I making it worse?"

Martha shook her head to discourage that train of thought, but she didn't say anything.

"What I wanted was a normal life. Just to settle down and have what everyone else seems to have," he confessed. "By then, my home planet was gone…" he trailed off.

They both looked at the display before them and sighed. "So the magic gave you this."

"Mmm," he said. "Nice, isn't it? My second favourite planet in existence. But away from everyone I know on Earth."

"You were going to live here?"

"Yes," he said. "I did live here for a few weeks."

"What is it?"

"It's Amsterdam," he said. "1780."