The thing Martha loved most about her job was that she often got to go to new places and meet new people. But once she set foot back in England, she felt the sense of relief that could only be achieved by going home. As much as she loved working stateside, part of her heart would always be in London.

It was good to be home.

After the mission's completion, Martha had received special permission from Kate to spend a few extra days in town, much to her mother's delight. The first full day at home was spent lounging around her flat in her pajamas all day. She couldn't remember the last time she had that luxury. Well over a year, she estimated. She promised herself that she'd find some excuse to leave the house the next day and was pleasantly surprised when a call from Steve gave her as good of reason as any.

"I figured you'd be back in Washington D.C. by now," Martha said with a smile when she answered her phone.

"I was supposed to be," Steve told her. "Change of plans."

"You and your plans," Martha teased.

"Would you like to be a part of them?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Well our first one was interrupted," Steve reminded her. "And since this is your city, I figured who better to see it with than you."

Martha laughed. "You know for a man who claims to be bad with women, you're surprisingly adept at flirting."

"I'm not good with women. I'm good with you," Steve retorted. "You make it easy."

"FYI, most women don't take to being associated with easiness," Martha joked.

"You know what I meant."

"I do," Martha assured him. "I just like taking the mick out of you."

Steve chuckled on his end of the phone. "Yea. I've noticed."

"So about that date," Martha said.

"Just name the time and place."

"Meet me next to the lions in Trafalgar Square in an hour."

"I'll be counting the seconds."

Martha quickly ended the call and got dressed. She changed her outfit a few times, making an effort to look nice without appearing as though she was trying too hard. When she arrived at the square, Steve was already waiting for her at the base of Nelson's Column. "You're early."

"So are you."

Martha smiled. "Maybe I missed you."

Steve smiled as well. "Just maybe?"

"Yep. That's all you're getting."

"I'll take it." Steve stood up and reached for her hand. "So where are we headed?"

"I was thinking a museum," Martha said as she slipped her hand into his. "You like art and the National Gallery is just there," she said pointing to the museum across the square from them. "And there are plenty more in walking distance. So we could probably do a couple. Have a bite in between."

"Sounds like a plan."

Martha led the way across the square and up the portico to the gallery's main vestibule. They were preparing to enter the Central Hall when Martha suddenly stopped. "Did you hear something?"

Steve paused and listened closely. "No. I…" He frowned. "Wait. What is that?"

Martha shushed him then smiled when she heard the familiar sound. "Come on." She tugged on Steve's hand and rushed towards the closed Room 1. She peeked around to make sure no one was watching them then slipped inside where the old blue box stood as if she had always been there waiting.

Steve stared at the box then looked at Martha. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes it is," Martha answered.

"So that means?"

Before Martha could answer the Doctor stepped out of his TARDIS and looked around. "This isn't the Library of Alexandria."

"Not even close," Martha said.

The Doctor wheeled around at the sound of her voice. "Martha Jones!" He greeted her with kisses to both cheek. "Always a pleasure."

"Doctor!" Martha hugged him tightly.

The Doctor pulled back and looked at her with a frown. "What are you doing here? Wherever here is."

"The National Gallery," she answered. "And I was trying to have a date," she added gesturing towards Steve.

"Of course! Dr. Tom Milligan! How are you doing?" The Doctor frowned as he looked at Steve. "Not Tom." He looked at Martha. "Where is Tom?"

"Tom is out of the picture," Martha said quickly.

"So long Tom. Hello…"

Steve extended his hand to the man. "Steve Rogers."

"Steve Rogers." The Doctor shook his hand. "I'm the Doctor."

"Good to finally meet you," Steve said. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I wish I could say the same," the Doctor replied. "Or maybe I have? Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers. Steve…Rogers. Why do I know that name?"

"Well…" Martha glanced at Steve then back to the Doctor. "He's Captain America."

"That Steve Rogers!" the Doctor said suddenly. He looked him over. "You've certainly changed since the last time I saw you. Of course, so have I." He stroked his face.

Steve stared at him in disbelief. "Are you saying we've met before?"

"Brief encounter," the Doctor said with a wave of his hands. "It was the 1930s. There were Daleks in Manhattan. Martha had gone missing. I recall a woman named Sarah and her son who didn't take kindly to being helped up by a stranger. You weren't rude of course. You just needed to prove that you could take care of yourself. And so you have!" He clapped his hands together happily and smiled. "Love a good underdog story!"

"Wow." Martha looked at Steve. "I guess we were closer to meeting than we realized."

Steve returned her glance. "I suppose so."

"Speaking of meetings, is anyone going to introduce me?" Clara asked, popping her head around the TARDIS door.

Steve stared at her with wide eyes. "Connie?"

"Close," Clara retorted as she stepped out. "Clara. Clara Oswald."

"We've met before," Steve insisted. "I mean I think we did. There was a girl before the war named Connie, but she looks exactly like you."

Martha turned to the Doctor. "Is that possible?"

"Another version of me?" Clara asked the Doctor.

"Another?" Steve questioned.

"It's a long story," the Doctor said. "Clara jumped into my time stream and was splintered. There are echoes of her showing up across all of time and space." He paused. "Actually that story wasn't very long at all."

"So Connie was…is a version of Clara?" Steve asked.

The Doctor nodded. "So it would seem."

Steve rubbed his temple. "I might need a minute."

"So I was mates with a superhero?" Clara asked with a grin. "Well done me."

"We went on a date," Steve told her. "A double date to the fair. You were with Bucky and you brought your friend Bonnie along for me. We saw Howard Stark's exhibit with the flying car."

"Well that sounds exciting." Clara beamed. "Doctor, can we go there?"

The Doctor frowned. "I don't think you should be going anywhere other versions of yourself exist," he told Clara sternly. "And I can't take the TARDIS back to New York during that time again. It's…complicated."

"So we'll land in New Jersey and hitch a ride across the river," Clara suggested.

Martha smirked. "Can't argue with that logic."

The Doctor scoffed. "I can argue with any logic," he retorted defiantly as he tweaked his bowtie.

"Yea, that's not a comforting sentiment," Clara said.

"If we go back in time," Steve began then paused.

Martha squeezed his hand. "You can see him again." She gave him a warm smile when he looked at her. "You can see Bucky."

"So it's settled!" Clara replied and moved back inside the TARDIS.

The Doctor followed behind her protesting. "Nothing is settled! I have the final say!"

"Actually I think she does," Martha retorted referring to the TARDIS. She pulled Steve inside and he paused at the entrance.

"It really is bigger on the inside," Steve marveled.

"You don't know the half of it," Martha told him with a grin.

"Show me?"

"Gladly."

Martha led him on a tour of the massive ship, including an all-important stop in the wardrobe for more period friendly clothes. Martha picked a plain and understated dress as not to arouse too much attention. They needed to blend in as much as possible, her especially.

"If I knew you'd look that good in the dresses from my time, I would have suggested time travel a lot sooner," Steve said as he stepped from around the corner.

Martha turned to look at him, he was dressed in an outfit her grandfather would have probably worn back in the day, but somehow he managed to look amazing in it. "You look pretty decent yourself."

"Maybe we should sneak off and finish our date," he joked.

"As tempting as that sounds, we both know it's a bad idea," Martha said. She drew in a breath then let it out sharply. "I don't exactly have the best track record with traveling to certain parts of the past," she told him seriously. "For obvious reasons."

"Martha…"

"You and me out there holding hands?" She shook her head. "We're not here to make a statement, Cap. We're here so you can see Bucky."

Steve sighed. As much as it killed him, he knew Martha was right. New York never had the anti-miscegenation laws that a lot of the other states had at some point, but that didn't mean it was free of prejudiced people. He had a hard enough time growing up being the son of Irish immigrants. He didn't even want to think about what could happen if some bigot saw the two of them together. A lot of progress had been made in seventy years. Not as much as there could have been, but Steve was at least comforted in knowing that he could openly hold Martha's hand in public. "If you're afraid of someone hassling you…"

"Is that what you think?" Martha cut him off. "That I'm afraid of being harassed?" She scoffed softly. "The only thing I'm afraid of is some bastard giving me cheek and being tempted to put them on their arse. I'm not looking to be arrested."

Steve cracked a smile. "No one wants that," he agreed.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Martha rose up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. "Just don't think that this counts as our second date."