[ the review button is very, very lonely! :[ in other news, I'm about ready to finish up this fic in real time. There are a few more chapters already written and the final ones are in the process, so uploads are coming, assuming my reviews tell me that this fic is worth keeping up with ;)]

"Hey."

She twisted around to see Jack leaning against the wall, hair tousled, looking half-asleep. "Hi. I didn't mean to wake you up when I left," she apologized, turning back to the tea. "Oh, please," he snorted, taking a seat at the counter, rubbing his eyes. "It wasn't you who woke me up, it was…"
"Jackie," she finished his sentence with a smile, pouring herself and him a cup of tea. "Here," she offered him the warm mug and he took it gratefully, taking a sip. "This is great," he enthused, "How'd you make it?" She shrugged. "I found some weird tea mix in the Doctor's pantry from some planet or other." He laughed. "You sure it's tea?"
"No."

Minutes later, Rose sauntered into the kitchen with a yawn, in sweats and a tee shirt. It was still only about five in the morning, but nobody had managed to fall back asleep except Jackie- Mickey had slept through the whole thing. "Hey, kiddo," Jack grinned at her as she pulled up a chair, stifling another yawn. "Doc didn't let ya get much sleep, huh?" She glared at him wearily and Donna gave him a half-hearted slap. "No," Rose replied stiffly, "my mum wouldn't let me get much sleep." The Doctor appeared, a bounce in his step, looking more awake than all of them put together. "Fortunately, I don't need much sleep," he announced, picking up the now empty box that had housed the 'tea' the other three were drinking. "Why'd you use up all the detergent?"

Donna spluttered in shock and Jack laughed at her. "See, I knew it wasn't tea!" Rose pushed her mug away, raising an eyebrow. "Tea?" the Doctor repeated, squinting at the box, "It says very clearly right here that this is detergent!"

"Yeah, well, not all of us read space nonsense, Doctor Spock!" Even Rose had to giggle at the look he got on his face when she said that, both indignant and amused. "My ears are not that big anymore," he insisted, and Jack and Rose roared with laughter as Donna stared at him. "Anymore? What'do you mean, anymore?"

"Blimey, it's early," Mickey said, shuffling into the kitchen. "Why's everyone up?"
"Because," the Doctor replied, "Jackie wouldn't let some of us sleep."
"And," Jack continued, mocking the Doctor's tone of voice perfectly, "Some of us were caught in the act." Rose shook her head and the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, obviously confused. "What act?" Jack laughed heartily and Donna chuckled along with him, but Mickey looked a bit trodden-on. "Oh. I slept through that, then?"

"You're lucky," Rose replied.
"Doesn't look like I'm the lucky one," he muttered under his breath. The Doctor missed it, but it appeared he was the only one. "Wait, I'm still not getting this. The 'act'?"

"I'll explain it later," Rose replied.
"I'll bet you will," Jack chuckled, leaning back in his chair as Rose cast an annoyed look at him and Donna stifled a giggle.

They all fell deadly silent when Jackie strode into the room, though Jack seemed to be stifling yet another bout of laughter, covering his mouth with his hand. "Good morning," Rose said softly. Jackie stared at her for a moment, then noticed the discarded mugs on the counter. "This yours?" she asked Rose, and without waiting for an answer took a sip. "That's lovely," she said, sounding surprised. "What is it?"

The entire room, save Mickey, burst into uncontrollable laughter. "It's detergent," the Doctor managed before cracking up all over again. Jackie dropped the mug hastily. "Why're you all drinkin' detergent, then?"
"I didn't know it was detergent," Donna insisted.

The ship suddenly creaked, groaned, and jolted, sending the mugs crashing to the floor. "What the…" the Doctor rushed to the door of the TARDIS, Rose and Donna close behind. He slammed open the doors and stared out at what seemed to be a room.

A room filled with huddled people, staring at them with round eyes. Donna instantly recognized the room that she and Jack had fallen into from the vents above, and behind her, Jack let out a breath.

"Doctor!" someone from the crowd cried out, and then Martha burst from the mass of people, rushing to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. His mouth fell open in shock but he managed to return the embrace before she stepped back. "You found us!" She said happily, though not seeming surprised in the least. "Who's she?" Rose asked incredulously, appearing beside him. He swallowed.

"Um, Rose, this is Martha. Martha, this is…"
"Rose," she completed, sounding awed. "Oh my God, you found him."
There was a silence before Donna butted in. "Doctor, we're on Dovras's ship," she informed him. "Davros," he corrected. "How do you know?"
"We were here before."
"That was you?" someone inquired from the crowd.
"Course it was him," Martha replied, not taking her eyes off the Doctor. "He's the Doctor, after all." Rose cleared her throat and Jack elbowed her. "Let her do what she needs to do," he whispered, and she crossed her arms but made no further moves.
"Well," the Doctor said then, "We can definitely fit all of you in the TARDIS…"
"In that thing?" someone shouted.
"It's bigger on the inside," he replied patiently. Jackie appeared in the doorway. "I found the…tea," she finished after a pause, noticing all the people outside. "Jackie," the Doctor said, "We'll be having company. Think you can make some more?"

Later, as people filed into the TARDIS' newly-made auditorium, the Doctor found himself awkwardly alone with Martha. Rose had gone to change out of her sleeping clothes, and everyone else seemed to have just disappeared. He tried not to meet her gaze, but that meant that he was caught by surprise when Martha's hand found his and squeezed. He wondered why when Rose did that, he felt like flying, and when Martha did it, it just hurt his hand. "I really missed you," she said, and he turned his head to find that she was staring at him with those same dark-brown puppy-dog eyes that had always seemed to make him uncomfortable. Why couldn't he talk to her like a normal person? He was wondering this exactly when Rose happened to show up, and he abruptly dropped Martha's hand, though it was obvious that Rose had noticed. She stared for a long second at Martha before asking him, "Where are we takin' them all?"

"London," he replied, hoping she wasn't making assumptions. By the way she stalked back to the kitchen he was pretty sure she was. "I can't believe she found you," Martha said, oh so helpfully. "Yeah," he agreed, staring after her, "Me neither."

He made sure it was the middle of the night when he let them all go, hoping that the anonymity would prompt Martha to leave. It didn't. "Do you mind taking me to Cardiff?" She asked him, her eyes all glazed again. He stared at her for a moment. "Sure," he gave in, "That's fine."

So it was just his luck that the TARDIS wouldn't move. It had taken her a lot of energy to transport them all to London, having to travel at full speed through the remnants of the time and gravity shields Davros had put up. She needed another seven hours of recharging. He sighed and his face fell into his hands, as the others filed slowly into the console room, which seemed to be the unofficial gathering place now that there were, what, six of them on the ship. Seven including Martha, which he wasn't. He felt someone come up behind him and prayed to the universe that it wasn't Martha. He wasn't sure he could deal with that.

It was Rose. She seemed oddly detatched, but he guessed she was just tired. She had spent the whole day organizing the people into bathroom and food lines, finding them blankets and whatnot. "What's wrong?" she asked. It didn't sound like she cared much, but he was grateful for her being there at all. "She needs another seven hours," he admitted. Her eyes flickered involuntarily to Martha, who came practically bouncing over. "The console's so new and shiny!" she commented, barely glancing at Rose. "So, to Cardiff?"

"Actually," he said, dragging out the word, "no. Because the TARDIS needs to recharge for about seven hours."
"Oh, that's fine then. I can stay here, right?"
He could feel Rose's eyes boring into the back of his head as he tugged on one ear. He wanted to say 'no'. He couldn't, though, it wasn't fair. "Sure," he said finally, clearing his throat. "You know the drill."

"Sure do," she agreed. Donna, who he suddenly noticed had been watching from the kitchen, arms crossed, called out. "Martha, will you help me with the chicken, please?" She held his gaze for another moment before following Donna into the kitchen, leaving him and Rose.

He met her gaze, which was suddenly unreadable, and then she turned and walked away without saying a word.

Dinner was pretty quiet, everyone but Jackie, Mickey and Martha seeming very subdued. The two couples talked quietly, feeling off-balance. The Doctor was confused to no end. Why was everyone feeling or acting so weird? It was just one more person. Just Martha. After about fifteen minutes, Rose got up and brought her plate to the diswasher. "I'm really not that hungry," she announced softly. "I'm going to bed." There was a chorus of "Goodnight's", the cheeriest from Martha, and then she disappeared. The Doctor stared down at his plate. Donna elbowed him in the ribs.

"What?" he whispered. She stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. "Go after her!" she whispered back urgently. He tried to make sense of the situation and failed. "Why?" She rolled her hazel eyes at him. "Are you kidding? She's not going to bed, she just can't deal with… just go," she reworded, looking about ready to shove him. He cleared his throat and stood, placing his dish in the dishwasher beside Rose's. "I'm going to see if I can speed up the recharging process," he announced. Everyone nodded except Jackie, who glared at him. He was surprised she didn't growl. He stared back evenly before leaving, grateful that the TARDIS had little loopholes like being able to pretty quickly bring him to Rose's room, inventing a shortcut. He knocked on the door, his stomach clenching. But why was he so nervous?

"I'm fine, mum," she said, muffled from the other side of the door. That was weird. The door shouldn't have muffled anything at all. "It's not your mum," he replied, lowering his hand. There was a long silence before he heard the rustle of bedclothes as she stood and the soft pad of her feet on the hardwood floor. "Doctor?" she asked softly, now at the door. "Yes," he practically whispered. "Can I come in?"

"No." But she didn't move.
"Why not?"
"You just… can't. I need to be alone right now, okay?"
"I just want to say goodnight."
"Well, goodnight."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, Rose," he murmured, closing his eyes. "Is this about Martha?" He heard her footsteps retreating to the bed, then the soft thump of her collapse onto it. He waited a moment before opening the door.
She was lying facedown on her bed, face buried in a pillow, legs hanging off the side nearest to him. He closed the door behind him and walked around to where her head was, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. Neither said anything, and for a moment neither moved. Then he reached out and laid a hand between her shoulders. She shrugged as if trying to dislodge him and he pulled his hand back. "Leave me alone," she said, her voice muffled in the pillow.
"No," he retorted, silently taking off his shoes. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I said goodnight."
"I haven't spoken to you all day," he continued, ignoring her.
"I know. You've been too busy talking to her."
"Martha?"

She fell silent. "I'm sorry, Rose. I know she's a bit… overbearing.'
"She was all over you!" she corrected, her voice breaking.
"I know."
"And you didn't do anythin' about it!"
"She's my friend," he replied patiently. "I didn't want to hurt her."
"Yeah, well, you were hurtin' me plenty."
"I'm sorry, I am. Honest, Rose, I had no idea."
She fell silent and he watched her breathe for a few minutes, feeling hopeless. Of course just when he and Rose were just starting to do relatively well, Martha would show up. And of course Rose being there wouldn't stop Martha from being, well, Martha.
"Don't leave," she murmured, so softly he could barely hear it.
"I won't," he promised, and this time she didn't shrug his hand away. He traced circles on her back, somewhat absently, thinking of how (maybe brutishly at times) Donna had been guiding him to Rose all this time. She rolled over and his hand froze as she gazed at him, her eyes showing that she wasn't sure how to feel.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips, and all the while she lay indifferent. "I want to make it up to you," he murmured, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. She stared at him for a moment. "How?"
"I dunno."
"You know what you could do that would be just lovely?"
"Anything, m'lady," he smiled with a small bow.
"You could run a bath. And try to have a semi-normal conversation with my mum."
He groaned. "Rose, anything but that. I'll run a bath, but I'm not convinced I'd come out of that situation alive."
"Just talk to her."
"I don't want to," he fake-whined. She slapped his arm playfully.
"But you do want to make it up to me. So go on."

He did. He ran a bath, told her when it was ready, and stood outside the bathroom door for a few minutes, trying his hardest not to imagine her clothes falling to the floor and her climbing into the steaming tub, convincing nobody, including himself, that he was wasting time he'd have to spend with Jackie.

He found her in the library, sipping at a mug of tea. Luckily for him he'd avoided Martha during his walk. "Hello," he greeted her, taking a seat across from her. He didn't tell her that she was in his armchair. She peered at him over the steam coming out of her mug, tucking her legs closer. "What now?"
"Nothing. It's just, Rose is in the bath, and I was bored."
"Well, go be bored somewhere else."
"Can you please try not to hate me? Just for… for Rose's sake?" She continued reading the cheesy romance she was holding, ignoring him.

"I want her to know that at least I tried."
"Why would she care?"
"I… I dunno. She does though."
"You know, it's because she loves you."
He swallowed. This was supposed to be just talking. She continued, her eyes still on the page. "And she wants me to like you. You gettin' this?"
"Mmm."
"And I would probably like you if you hadn't been the alien that appeared one day and took my daughter out from under my nose."
"That's… good to know, I suppose." She stared up at him.
"Aren't you sorry?"
He considered that carefully before replying, "Actually, no. Rose was- is- the best thing that has ever happened to me. I am sorry that you had to go through that. I am. But I… I don't know where I'd be without Rose. And I love her. And I'm not sorry for that."

She considered him for a moment, then said, "Well, I'm glad we had that little chat. Now can you go be bored somewhere else?"

He made his way back to Rose's room. It was just his luck that he literally ran into a certain someone on the way there. "Martha!" he gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, though she obviously wasn't. He wondered if she'd run into him on purpose. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you." Oh no. "…yeah?"
"Well, you remember you told me that the TARDIS is supposed to be teamed by six?"
Oh, no. No no no. "…yeah?"
"Well, once Jackie and Mickey are gone, it'll just be four of you. Unless I stayed, then there'd be five."
Oh dear God no. "Martha, look…" he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He knew he wasn't being fair, but he couldn't risk Martha getting in the way of… of him and Rose. He couldn't risk anything getting in the way of that. "The only person on this ship that knows how to pilot the TARDIS is me."
"But you could teach me." Yes, he thought, technically, I could.
"Yes. Except it would take probably twenty years. At least."
"Ah, I doubt that. You are brilliant, after all."
And you, clearly, are not.
"Besides, you taught Donna, didn't you?"
Yes. And Rose can do a few things, too. And Jack. But not you.
"That was in an emergency."
"I got fired from the hospital. That's an emergency, isn't it?"
"Martha…"
"I work for Torchwood, but the only thing I really want to do…"
"Maaartha…."
"Is be with you."
"Martha." She gazed at him, all innocence.
"You remember… you remember why you left?"
Her eyes clouded over. "Yes. Why?"
"That's not gonna change."
She blinked.
"I'm sorry, it's just…"

And then she kissed him. He stumbled away from her, the back of his hand over his lips. And he wanted to scream. That had been so, so dreadfully wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. "Martha! Please, would you let me talk?"

"Sure. Go ahead."
"Good Lord." He paused, staring at her, trying to decide the best way to tell her what he needed to say. "Look, you being here is only gonna make you miserable," he began, swallowing. "No, it's not," she replied evenly. "I love it here."
"Because…" Say it. Say it, you coward, just say it! She waited. He breathed. And then from behind him, there were the soft pad of bare feet, and the smell of shampoo and soap. His heart rate increased. Martha's face fell. He didn't turn his head. If it was Jackie, oh he was so dead. Because the hallway was too long, anyone this close would've had to have seen Martha's kiss. In fact, if it was anyone, he was dead. Anyone but Donna. And maybe Jack.

Soft lips brushed his cheek and his hearts dropped right down into his stomach as he turned to see Rose on her tiptoes, staring at him. There was no anger in her eyes. Nothing bad. But how was that possible? There was a few seconds of intensity where he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers, and then she returned to being flat-footed, and looked over at Martha.

Oh God.
Oh God.
"Because he's in love with me," she finished softly, taking his hand. He stroked her thumb with his, unable to move or speak otherwise. Martha looked stricken, but not entirely shocked. Rose removed her hand and walked away, down the corridor. He stared at Martha. She stared at him. And then, he too, turned and walked away.