SEARCHING IN THE DARK

Martha had summed up their situation: they had crash-landed, they had both had some sort of cardiac event (the Doctor's much more severe than hers), the TARDIS had gone totally dormant, only able to provide enough light that they could see each other's silhouettes from across the room. As such, her instruments weren't working, and they had no idea where they were.

"Okay. So… what now?" she asked.

"Wish I knew."

"Well, then I guess I'll do what I do best, in a crisis," she said. She reached out and found the pen and pad of paper the Doctor had pulled from the console earlier, then grabbed his wrist.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking your vitals," she said, searching his skin for the artery. She pressed it with two fingers, then paused for a few moments. "Your pulse is normal… for you." She wrote down what she'd found.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You had some sort of…" she paused. "What's the Time Lord word for myocardial infarction?"

"A heart attack," he said, flatly. "And you had one, too, remember?"

"Not like you," she said. "Mine abated much more quickly, and never was as intense."

"So you're examining me?"

"We don't know where we are, or what to do next, and the TARDIS is in a coma," she practically shrieked, throwing her arms out to her sides, exasperated. "If I were a survivalist, I'd go spelunking through the TARDIS to find supplies. If I were a programmer, I'd try to help you bring the TARDIS' machinery back online. But I'm a doctor, so, I'm trying to find out why we both had a cardiac event at the same time, and the risk of it happening again. At least until we work out how to make the TARDIS un-crashed."

"Okay, okay," he said. "I've got to admit, I'm curious."

"Had anything like that ever happened to you before?"

"No," he said. "Actually, let me put it this way: I've never survived anything like that before."

"Was there any warning beforehand? Shortening of breath? Pain in your arm?"

"If there was, I wouldn't have noticed," he said. "We were crashing. And before that, we were..."

"Is it possible this is all a coincidence? The crash and the heart attack at the same time?"

"Anything is possible," he sighed.

"When was the last time you had a physical?"

"A physical?"

"Yes, it means a full physical examination."

"I know what it is," he told her, a little annoyed. "I'm just surprised you'd ask. It's a very human question."

"Well, I'm human. What's the answer?"

"I don't know if I've ever had one," he said. "My body regenerates. When it burns out, I get a new one. Time Lords aren't long in the preventative care area."

"Well, that stops now. Take off your coat, jacket and shirt."

"No," he groaned. "I just got them back on! Besides, it's freezing."

"Doctor, what if it happens again? What if there was a way we could have stopped it? What if it kills you next time? Or me?"

He groaned again.

Instead of forcing the issue, she asked, "Do you have arteries in all the same places as me?"

"I have more of them because of the two-hearts situation, but they're in the same places, yes," he answered.

She nodded subtly, then reached forward with two fingers, and felt his pulse at the carotid artery. She held it for a few seconds, wrote down the result, then said, "Stand up."

He did. "Why?"

"I'm trying to estimate your BP," she said. "I'm going to try to get at the femoral artery."

He chuckled. "Do what you have to."

She unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, chuckling a little, along with him. She slipped her hand inside, and felt for a pulse in the crease between his abdomen and thigh.

"Your pulse is quickening," she said.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "I wonder why."

Without removing her hand, she asked, "How's your chest? Any tightening?"

"A little, actually."

"Just from me… doing this?"

"Erm… yeah. Why are you surprised?"

She extracted her hand. "Why the hell are you suddenly so fragile?"

"No idea."

She wrote something down on her pad.

"Doctor, I really want to do a physical," she said. "But if I do, will I be able to learn anything? I mean, how actually different is your physiology?"

"Not that different, mechanically, except, as I said, the two-hearts situation," he said. "And I have a respiratory bypass, which means my lungs have an extra flap that yours don't. The biggest differences between me and a human are at the DNA-level, and in brain function. The regenerative abilities, the time-and-space connection, things like that."

"Okay, then. Seriously. Lose the coat, jacket and the shirt."

"Ugh, fine," he complained.

Martha pressed at the major organs, feeling for general size and consistency. She found a stethoscope in the under-console storage compartment, and listened for abnormal sounds in the heart and lungs. She tapped hard at different points across his stomach and chest, using "percussion" to try and detect fluids where they don't belong. She checked reflexes in the knees and elbows…

"If I had an up-and-working lab, I'd take bloods, too," she said. Then she sighed heavily. "As it stands, nothing abnormal, that I can find, but I have no real instruments. I'd love to do labs, do an EKG, and get you a consult with a cardiac surgeon, but as it is…"

"Dr. Jones, relax," he said. "It doesn't fall completely on you to find out what's wrong with me."

"Is it possible it's your regenerative qualities causing this?"

"I suppose," he said. "But let's not forget, you had a milder case of the same thing."

"Well, then," she said handing him the stethoscope. "Examine me. As much as you can, without technology, anyway."

He got dressed, she got undressed, and he repeated the process on her. And like her, he was unable to find any anomaly.

"I never thought I'd be disappointed to find that both of us have all organs in working condition," she said, pulling her purple v-neck over her head once again.

"Well," he responded, pulling on his overcoat. "I do so love a challenge."

"Let's hope you survive to face it."

"Okay, well, brilliant!" he said clapped. "First question… not answered! Let's move on to question two: where the hell are we?"

She pulled her coat on, as well, and followed him down the ramp. He pulled open the door.

"Whoa," she breathed. "That is weird."

"Okay, well, that tells us one other small thing," he said. "The TARDIS is able to light the time rotor slightly, as well as continue to run the gravity boosters. At least in the console room. Thanks again, old girl."

"Thank you is right."

They stared outside at a planet that looked to be turned sideways. In reality, they both knew that it was the blue box that had crashed sideways, though they were still able to walk normally inside.

"Unfortunately, though," he said, sticking his head outside. "We could be in any one of a hundred places. It's dark. Barren land as far as the eye can see. Rocks, dirt, a hill or two here or there…"

"Is it night? Or just a dark planet?"

"Most planets can't survive without sun, so it's probably just night," the Doctor said. "Although… I do see some faint light on the horizon…"

They both squinted at a point off to the right, where there was some sort of extremely pale illumination.

As it came into focus, Martha asked, "Are those… buildings?"

"Sort of looks like it, eh?"

"So, civilisation."

"Let's not jump the gun," he warned. He squinted for a little while longer, then went back to the console and found a pair of very normal binoculars. He checked out the cluster of buildings and light, and said, "Oh… dear."

"What? I hate when you say that."

"I think I see Velosramparts."

"What's that?"

He handed her the binoculars. "See those things that look like arrowheads, that seem to stand up like a fence?"

Martha looked. "Yeah, I see them."

"They're called Velosramparts," he said. "And they're a clear indicator of hostility. Hostility and barbarism."

"Hostility and barbarism against whom?"

"Who knows? Let's play it safe and assume, everyone who isn't them."

"Great. So… xenophobic and violent."

"In a nutshell. There's something I need to know," he said. He stepped carefully outside, and bizarrely, it looked to Martha as though the Doctor was walking sideways.

He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket, and Martha heard it buzz, as he disappeared for a few moments, and then came back into view. She assumed he'd walked around the blue box, aiming the device, to take readings.

"What is it you needed to know?"

"Whether the perception filter is working," he said, frowning.

"I'll assume by the look on your face that it's not," she said, now also frowning.

"You'll be correct," he said. With that, he jumped into the TARDIS, landing, weirdly, on his feet, on the floor.

"This is mental," she said, looking him over, marveling at the strange gravitational phenomena now in play.

"Yeah, I agree," he said. "So, we have a tiny bit of light, and gravity in the TARDIS, but no protection on a hostile planet. No shields, no perception filter. And no possibility of walking out there to get help."

"And no instruments to detect anyone getting nearer, nor to tell us what's wrong with her…" Martha said, looking sadly at the console. "Plus, it's dark and cold."

"Right, and not any warmer out there. At the moment, we might as well just be in a tent in the middle of a field."

"I hate to ask this, but have you got any weapons?"

"A few," he said. "All right, I'm going to assume that the TARDIS will continue to light the way for us, however sparsely, so I think we need to go back in, and grab a few things. What are our immediate needs? Defence…"

"Warmth and food."

"Yes," he agreed. "And… you know, it's very tempting to say that we should just hole up in the bedroom, but I really think, for safety's sake, we need to be here in the console room. That way, we know straight away if anything comes back online, or, Rassilon help us, if anyone or anything gets in. Can't have someone infiltrating the depths of the TARDIS in the pitch dark."

"You're the captain," she said.

"Once we have what we need for now, let's try to get some rest, and tomorrow, I'll set about trying to diagnose and repair her, using the sonic, and… I don't know what else. Maybe I'll be able to think better tomorrow."

"Okay," she said, stroking his arm and shoulder.

He looked at the extremely dim time rotor, and asked, "Can you divert light from here, and help us out one more time?" He stroked the console, then patted it fondly.

He took Martha's hand and the two of them ventured into the hallway, whereupon the time rotor went out, and one little light above them came on. They both thanked the TARDIS, as they moved forward.

Their first stop was the kitchen. They took a canvas grocery bag from underneath the sink, and filled it with fruits, cheeses, cans of nuts and bottled water.

Second stop was the wardrobe room. A few weeks back, she had borrowed a long wool coat, some matching gloves and hat, for a foray into the winter of 1938, and she had simply tossed them all back in when she had finished when them. She found all the pieces easily, on the floor, and donned them again, setting her red leather aside for later.

The closest bedroom was Donna's, so they went in and borrowed the comforter off the bed, and moved on.

Next stop was a room with double doors that Martha had never seen before. To her surprise, it was packed to the gills with weapons.

"Oh my God!" she mused, walking in. "This is… this is… how is it that you have all this?"

"What? You didn't think that just because I hate weapons and never use them that a fully-functioning TARDIS wouldn't come with an armoury did you?"

"I never gave it much…"

"The Time Lords knew their way around a war," he said. "They had weapons that the most advanced human computer game-designer won't even think of until the twenty-third century. And that speaks very well of humans, by the way."

"Blimey."

"All of the type-40 TARDISes were designed for a crew of six, and equipped with living quarters and supplies for six. Over the years, I've run through a lot of those supplies on my own… but not these," he said, looking around at the room, rather worriedly. "Dipped in here maybe twice, in the last seven hundred years."

"Sorry," she said.

"The ones nearest to the door will do the least damage," he said. "They will stun, and buy us time, but they won't kill, and won't permanently injure."

"Right," she said, dropping the comforter on the floor, and going straight for the large gun closest to the door. She took it down off the rack and inspected it.

He quickly showed her how to arm it, aim it, and pull the trigger.

"It has a smart scope," he said. "So, even if you're a crap shot, it will most likely realise what you're aiming at, and correct for the discrepancy."

"Good to know, because I'm a crap shot."

He gathered up the comforter, then took a stunning weapon off the wall as well, and they left the room dark.

Faint light followed them, lastly, to a storage room, in which Martha had been several times. Each time, she'd hated it.

"Ugh, not this again."

"Sorry," he said. "There are a few things in here that could save our lives. Hopefully, I'll only be a mo'."

The Doctor dumped the comforter and the weapon by the door, so Martha left her weapon and her grocery bag beside it, and followed him in.

"What are we looking for?"

"Keys," he said.

"Keys?"

"Yeah, the keys on strings that you and Jack and I wore around our necks when we were ducking the Master," he said.

"Ah yes," she said, remembering that he had taken back those keys when the debacle was over, promising to issue new ones… though he hadn't, because she and Jack had both rather promptly left him, after the Master had been dispatched.

"If we can find them, we can hang them on the outside of the TARDIS, and hopefully, give her a little bit of the perception filter she's currently lacking."

The keys took well over an hour to find, because the room was packed with shelf after shelf of junk. Not to mention, there wasn't much light, and the keys' very nature was to be cloaked from being seen. Unsurprisingly, it was the Doctor who found them, in a place where Martha had already looked twice.

"Finally," she sighed.

"Are you thinking we should sleep here on the platform?" she asked, after they had brought their supplies back to the console room. "I think that might be a bit rough…"

"Let's sleep down there," the Doctor said, pointing to a place on the other side of the railings that surrounded the console. It was lower than the platform, closer to the wall, and the floor was smooth, like concrete. "I mean, there are softer surfaces in the world, but at least we won't wake up with scars on our faces in the shape of Belgian Waffles."

Martha created a little bit of a nest for them in the space between the wall and the console platform, while the Doctor went outside to hang the three perception filter keys on the exterior of the TARDIS. He made sure to lock the door securely, as he came back in, then hopped over the railing, instead of coming up the ramp, like usual.

She removed her coat, and folded it up, placing it on the floor. When she lay down, she used it like a pillow, and then pulled the comforter over herself. It was uncomfortable, but she had slept in much worse conditions.

He removed his own coat (and suit jacket) and did the same thing, lying down beside her. She rolled to her side almost immediately, resting her head on his shoulder, and curling up under his arm.

After a long silence, Martha asked, "The fact that she's keeping us grounded, and there's this tiny bit of light… that's an indicator that she's still alive, right?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "But the fact that none of her defences are up, and literally everything else has gone dark…"

"Means she might not be alive for much longer?"

"Maybe," he said. "But you had it right when you said she's in a coma. The two functions she's giving us now are more or less autonomic. She's pretty much totally unconscious, but is able to accommodate us because it's literally her primary function. Like when a human is in a coma and can still breathe and maintain a heartbeat."

"Could she just be shutting down in order to keep her reserves?"

"Could be," the Doctor said. "I'm hoping to find out more tomorrow. Right now, I'm not at my best..."

"Right, it's been a long day."

"That, and…"

After he didn't say anything further, she asked, "That, and what?"

"Don't think less of me, but I'm a bit addled from…"

"From?"

"From being interrupted earlier," he said.

"Oh. In the waterfall?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I guess I let myself get pretty… involved."

"Involved," she repeated, with amusement. "Is that a gentlemanly way of saying blind with lust?"

"Well, yeah. You… under all that water…"

"I don't know if I was quite as far gone as you, but I was feeling it too," she confessed.

He sighed heavily. "In very many ways, Martha, I'm a lofty being. Plugged into time and space… I'm all cerebral and philosophical, and well, sometimes I act like I'm above it all. But I suppose you've noticed by now that I'm…"

"…Earthy in all the right ways?"

"Earthy?" he asked. "Perhaps. I was going to say, plagued by my id, like everyone else."

"You're just as physical as you are cerebral. I've known that since I met you."

"You have?"

"Yes. And, I understand," she said. "To a lesser extent, I've often been perceived the same way. The clever girl, the sciency-type in the white lab coat, the woman-in-the-trenches in her blue scrubs. Well brought-up, well-educated, blah, blah, blah…"

"You couldn't possibly have carnal desires," he commented, with a mock-posh accent.

"Exactly," she said. "But I, like every sentient being in the universe, understand how it feels not to have satisfaction. Lived that way with you for… oh, longer than I care to think about."

"The daft bit of that is, I lived that way with you, too."

"And I also know what it feels like to be so certain you're going to get satisfaction, and then you don't."

"Mm," he said, jaw clenched.

"You still could," she said. "If you still want to."

"Still could, what? Have satisfaction?"

"Yes. I'm here. We're close. We're cold and frightened..."

"Aren't you just a bit wary that your considerable charms will send me into myocardial infarction, Dr. Jones?"

"Yes, a little," she said. "But we got you out of it before. Or, maybe it won't happen. Maybe if we go really slow…"

He turned her way, and rolled on top of her, and gave her a hearty kiss. Then, he said, "That's very risky. Are you sure you're up for risky?"

"Such is life with you," she said, meekly.

"I'll admit, I'm interested to see what happens, though I don't like my odds."

"If you feel anything heart-attacky, then stop."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Take it slow. We've got all night," she whispered.

Unable to resist, he began, again, with her exposed neck. He planted kisses all over, just as he explored the smooth, warm flesh underneath her shirt.

He proceeded as calmly as he could, and for a long while, they were able to rove about each other with fingers and lips, slowly, very slowly, approaching something much sweeter, much more rigorous and therapeutic… hopefully with some measure of control.

And at some point, he lost himself just a bit, and groaned in her ear something about how badly he wanted her, and then he shifted positions. When he did, she felt him again, rock hard inside his trousers, pressed against her thigh. At the same time, he tugged hard at the button of her jeans, for the second time that night.

In those few seconds, everything changed. For her, everything ramped up a couple of notches… arousal, expectation, and something else…

And suddenly, she felt a constriction of her chest, and a searing pain.

"Doctor?" she croaked.

"Mm?" he asked, barely hearing her, becoming abandoned to the moment.

"Doctor?" she croaked again. "Stop."

"What?" he said, continuing, and now tugging at her waistband.

"Stop!" she repeated, now at a rasping whisper, as something was seizing her, cutting off her air, and making her chest feel like it would explode. Her arms ached, her vision felt blurry.

"I'm fine," he protested.

"I'm not," she breathed, and then pushed his shoulders away from her, with what little dwindling strength she had.

The jolt brought him round, and he pulled back, sitting on his haunches now. "Oh, God! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Martha… what… what?"

She gasped raggedly, and turned over on her side, clutching her chest.

He cursed, then forced himself to take a few seconds to calm down, for the good of them both. Then he ran for the stethoscope, came back and took her pulse, tried to lull her….

And in a minute or so, the event subsided. Her heart-rate and pulse, blood pressure, and breathing returned to normal.

"Are you all right?" he asked, at last, after she had been able to sit up, and given him ten clean in-and-out breaths.

A harried "No!" escaped her, as she burst into frightened, frustrated tears. "I'm sorry!"

"Sorry? For what?"

"I shouldn't have encouraged you… I'm a doctor, I know better! I should've left well-enough alone!"

"I wasn't exactly resisting you."

"I know, but…"

"Shhh," he said. "Just stop right there. This isn't your fault, nor mine. Something is happening to us. And we'll work it out, okay? I promise."

He lay down beside her, and just held her for a bit. She cried herself to sleep. He did not… but he felt like it.

Hey, everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please don't be silent - if you're following, reading, having feelings, please leave a review! Call it a late Christmas present!

Thanks for reading. :-)