A/N: Hmmm, I was just watching the Torchwood episode 'Reset', and discovered that I have never written Martha. I've writted every other new series companion (except Mickey), but I haven't done Martha. For this story, I was given three prompt words from my family: orange, hair and 2012.

GM of the Future

The song of a nightingale broke the silence of early morning, and Martha Jones looked up, trying to locate the position of the bird. Brittany watched her curiously, before she finally set down her sandwich and spoke up. "What are you looking for?"

"Did you just hear that nightingale?" the UNIT doctor asked, staring in vain at the green leaves that shaded them.

Brittany shrugged. "I wouldn't know an eagle from an ostrich, even if you pointed one out to me."

"That's Jack's nickname for me, you know."

"What?"

"'The Voice of a Nightingale'," Martha murmured, before shaking her head. "I have no idea why, and I've never asked him, either." She sighed, and stretched out on their picnic blanket. "When do you think the Doctor'll be back?"

"You know him," Brittany replied. "Whenever he's stopped insulting the enemy of the week."

Martha chuckled at that. "Enemy of the day, you mean."

"I stand corrected," Brittany laughed.

"Sit corrected," the Doctor pointed out, coming up behind the two women without any warning. "You don't look like you're standing up to me."

"Just a saying," Brittany muttered, but then her expression brightened upon seeing the plastic bag in the Doctor's hand. "Oh, what have you got there, eh?"

The alien grinned at her. "A bit of a treat," he said, sticking his hand into the bag, which was just translucent enough for the two humans to see it had a couple of round objects in it, but too opaque to see what they actually were. "While you two have been here, relaxing, I ducked off to the markets to pick up some useless junk. That's the year 2012, by the way. Always interesting, those markets." He smiled absently to himself, then took two of the round objects out of his plastic bag, chucking one to both Martha and Brittany.

"They're oranges," Martha said in surprise. "With hair."

"Yeah," Brittany agreed. "Hairy orange…things."

The Doctor grinned, taking their expressions of shock as ones of curiosity. "I thought you'd like them," he said, still smiling. "Genetically modified oranges from the year 2012. Don't say that I didn't think about you." He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, and dropped his plastic bag. "Look! A butterfly!" he crowed, bounding off into the underbrush in pursuit of the fluttering insect.

Brittany set her orange down on the ground. "I don't know whether he's being serious or not."

Martha stared after the prancing Time Lord. "Yeah," she agreed absently. "He's an odd one alright."