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Chapter X
He left when she did- he, in the TARDIS and she, in her sports car.
She almost called in sick, but settled for a tandem shower instead. The Doctor took his time making love to her, even though she had somewhere to go. He chose her outfit: A TARDIS blue pencil skirt and blazer, a light blue shirt, and dark red pumps- to her amusement. He made her breakfast and a strong cup of coffee just the way she liked it. From the moment he opened his eyes, eyes that opened to her peacefully sleeping face, he knew that he would always come back to her. Even if he had to leave her today, it wouldn't be the last time and they could make it through anything. Even if it was a bit fairytale, their love would survive.
They said their shallow goodbyes and promised that it wouldn't be for too long. But with that last kiss goodbye, they said everything that needed saying: the love, the hope, and her confident reassurance and his determination not to lose her again set their minds at ease.
Martha returned to work amid the stares of her coworkers. She was running late- another effort to conserve water gone pleasantly awry, she thought. Besides, she couldn't have been that late. Only five to ten minutes at the latest, but her coworkers gawked at her openly, whispering to each other. She checked her cell phone, making sure the Doctor hadn't gotten the date wrong. It amazed her how even super- secret special agents could be reduced to petty gossip.
However, once she rounded the corner to her huge corner office, Chief Medical Officer Martha Jones saw exactly what the gossip was about: the aforementioned huge corner office had been transformed into a sea of white. Calla lilies flooded every inch of the floor and desks, save for the narrow pathway left clear so that she could tiptoe from the door to her desk without breaking her neck on the vased plants.
She jumped a bit, startled by the voice behind her. "They were delivered this morning." Colonel Mace mused, obviously enjoying the discomfort of the usually cool, calm Dr. Jones. "Nobody knows who they're from."
"I think I know." She said, returning the smirk of her superior.
She didn't call him right away: after all, he'd only been gone for an hour. Instead, she enjoyed the earthy scent of the flowers as she completed her reports and watched the women (and some of the men) continue in their merciless gossip. She loved being the center of attention, though she'd never admit it.
When lunch time came around, she pulled out her mobile and scrolled down to the Doctor's name (which he had seen fit to add hearts and stars to, given their updated relationship status.)
"Hello, dear!" He said cheerily. "Missing me already?"
"I hope all of that cheek isn't contagious."
"Of course it is! I got it all from you!"
She heard the TARDIS groan in disgust at their banter as if to say 'Cut it out, you two.'
"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Calla lilies." She said with a laugh at his mock absentmindedness.
"Speaking of Calla lilies, did you ever notice how much they resemble a female -"
"Doctor!" She laughed again, positively giddy at this point.
"Right… Sorry. So what about Calla lilies?"
"The fact that there were about 45 dozen or more packed into my office this morning. What do you have to say for yourself, mister?"
There was a long silence on the other end before the Doctor spoke.
"I didn't sent you any flowers, Martha." His tone said that he really had no clue what she was talking about.
"Hmmm… maybe not yet. Could future you have sent them? Maybe you got the date a bit wonky- wouldn't be the first time."
"I don't think so. I know they're one of your favorites, but I wouldn't send you Calla lilies, Martha. Just not my style. Or any other Earth flower, really. They just shrivel up and die after a day. Selloria! That's what I'd get you. Absolutely stunning, but murder to grow. Very temperamental flora. They're only grown in a small quadrant of the Falaxus galaxy- which is about a billion billion light-years away from you. But like I said: they're a pain to grow, but once they're separated from their roots they stay perfectly formed in a sort of suspended animation for hundreds of years. Literally, hundreds! Now THAT, Martha, that is what I call undying love… Martha?"
She was caught up in her own thoughts- half wondering how the Doctor's tongue didn't get fed up and walk out after a rant like that (although she had no complaints about that talented, machine-gun tongue), and half wondering if the Doctor didn't send the flowers, who did? She snapped out of her reverie.
"So you don't know who might have sent you the flowers?" He said, now mirroring her nervous curiosity. It was then that she saw it: the smallest and most innocent of notes. It was stuck to one of the bouquets that had been on her desk and was now sitting on the floor of her office. By her estimation, the bouquet the note was stuck to formerly sat in the middle of her desk. She read it, then reread it again and again.
"Doctor, I'm going to have to call you back." She said before ending the call.
The small note, no bigger than a business card, had succeeded in thoroughly shaking her to her core. It's neat, boxy scrawl was unassuming and seemingly innocuous, but she knew better.
These flowers are nowhere near as beautiful as you.
-Your Loving Husband
At five o'clock, she practically ran to her car. She was vaguely aware of red lights and disregarded traffic signs completely, speeding to her suburban home. She was both apprehensive and reluctant to get home. She couldn't have forgotten could she? She really wasn't that stupid. She stormed up the drive way and fumbled with her keys- which seemed bent on keeping her outside of her home.
Once she was inside, she ripped through the house. The drawers of the office, the walk-in closet, and even the medicine cabinet fell victim to her ravenous search. Finally, she found what she was looking for: on the kitchen table, under a stack of mail, magazines, and newspapers, was the brown envelope. Her name was written on the front in those same boxy letters. Right where the Doctor had left them two months before, were her divorce papers- unsigned and still in her possession.
Oh, Martha! How could you forget about THAT!? Seems like Mickey's having some second thoughts about the divorce. Hmmm.. Lots of places for this to go. Stay tuned! Review if you want more.