Our heroes have just had a big stroke of luck!

Things are gonna change fast, for better or worse. I think you'll like this chapter!

Here we go...

ANOTHER CHANCE WITH THE WATERFALL

"Things just got a lot easier. What we need now is a plan," the Doctor had announced, in response to the revelation that they now had drugs that might help get them out of there.

"Okay," Martha said. "Human beta blockers work on you?"

"They should," he said. "Though I'd need twice the dose because of the…"

"…the two-hearts situation," she finished. "But listen, it's all very well and good that we now have a way to keep us both from dying of a heart attack mid-escape, but what about the TARDIS? Isn't she a bit of a sitting duck out there? It was pretty clear that they want her. I don't know what they think they'll be able to accomplish with her, without you to run the controls, but…"

"…I know, I know," he said, just a bit agitated.

"It's too bad we can't give her a beta blocker made of pure time energy or something," Martha sighed.

"If we had a hell of a lot more time, and our lives weren't at stake, that wouldn't be a half-bad suggestion Dr. Jones," he said. Then, he shook out his hair with both hands and allowed himself a small cry of frustration, even though it momentarily tightened his chest. "But, as it is, even if we can take those drugs and slip out of here and get back to her, she's still out-of-commission as long as she's on this planet. No matter what solution we try, we'd still need to buy a hell of a lot of time to get her up and running before we can leave this bloody rock, and be properly safe."

"Well, she has an armoury, as it turns out," Martha said. "I assume there are weapons in there that do a lot more than stun."

"Yes," he said. "But there are only two of us. And once they realise we're armed and resisting, they'll send in a small army, and we'll be right back in this cell. Or worse. And the TARDIS will become the dismantled property of Judge Rabic and the Congress."

Suddenly, the door to their cell opened yet again, and a tall, thin rubber-helmeted guy stepped in. "You will come."

The Doctor's first thought was to pocket the pills before they were seen. He slipped them into his suit jacket's hip pocket.

"Again? What is it now? Need me to fix a toaster?" he whined. "Can't you just get a man in? One who isn't me?"

The rubber helmet reached forward and grabbed Martha by the arm, the same way she'd been handled before.

"What? Why me?" she shrieked.

"No, no!" the Doctor shouted. "Not her! Not her! What are you going to do?"

His hearts were beating hard, and his chest was tightening, but he didn't care.

He tried throwing himself at the tall, thin operative. But given the Doctor's rapidly weakening hearts, the guard was able to flick him off, onto the ground, with one effortless motion of the arm.

"Leave her alone!" the Doctor protested, as best he could. "Whatever you're doing, take me! Take me! I'm much more…"

With that, the door was shut, and the Doctor's voice was cut off. The guard had hauled Martha back out into the hallway, and they could now hear pounding from the inside. Martha let a few tears fall, and silently prayed that the Doctor would calm down before something terrible happened to him.

Martha had been instructed to wait. Again. She had been led through an office that was a bit like Judge Rabic's, and through a secret door. She found herself in a room that was tiled, and to her utter horror, there was a drain in the floor.

She spent at least an hour trying not to think about the drain, trying not to think about how easy this room would be to clean, trying not to think of the Doctor losing his mind in the cell, and causing himself a dual myocardial infarction on her account.

At last, three men walked into the room. She recognised the voice of Judge Rabic, when one of them said, "Good afternoon, Martha. I imagine you're surprised to find yourself taken from your cell again so soon."

"Surprised. Yeah."

"Well, after the utter non-cooperation of your friend, the Doctor, I decided that something had to be done. You're here to give us the information we need."

"I know practically nothing about the TARDIS, Judge Rabic, I swear to you," she said. "All I know is that it takes us from one place to another. I have no knowledge of how it runs or works, or why it's blue."

"Oh, we know that," the Judge said. "Humans are not privy to the advanced and insidious technology of the Time Lords. In fact, historically, Time Lords aren't that fond of humans, except perhaps as lower beings to be protected from themselves. Though, the Doctor seems to be rather attached to you."

After a long pause during which the Judge seemed to stare at her expectantly, Martha asked, "What do you want me to do? Disagree with you?"

"Not at all," he said. "I'm merely making an observation."

The Judge ordered her to sit just to the side of the drain in the floor. She obeyed. Then he circled around her several times, studying her.

"What do you want from me?" she asked. She couldn't help herself.

"Tell me, is it true that Time Lords have a back-up source of oxygen in their physiology?"

"What?" she asked.

"Answer the question."

"Erm… I don't know. I don't think so."

"Tell the truth, now."

"I don't think so," she repeated.

"Be sure."

"I can't. I'm telling you… I don't think so!"

With that, Rabic said, "Ajess, press the button."

One of the other men pressed a red button on the wall, and a gush of foul-smelling, ice-cold water fell on Martha's entire body. Her muscles seized for a few moments, and she couldn't help but draw in a surprised breath, which caused her to choke, even after the gush stopped. Her heartrate increased, but she was becoming used to the sensation of a tightening chest by now.

When she gathered herself, she shouted, "What was that for? I'm telling you the truth!"

"Is it true that Time Lords are weakened by a substance known as Chronos Epivra?"

"What? I don't know. I don't think so. No."

"Well do you know, or don't you?"

"No, not really," she said. "I've never heard of that substance."

"You've never heard of Chronos Epivra?"

"No."

"How could you not have heard of it?"

"I'm not from around here," she insisted. "I know about science on my own planet!"

"Is it true that the Doctor has a psychic connection with time and space?"

"I don't know how it works."

"I didn't ask if you knew how it works. I asked you if the connection exists."

"You must know that it does," Martha said.

"We've merely suspected."

"Oh. Great. You got me," she sighed.

"But is it truly a psychic connection. That is to say, is it a brain function, or is it something more at the level of consciousness, or the soul?"

"I told you, I don't know how it works!"

"You don't know?"

"I don't know!"

"Ajess?"

And the same guard pressed the button on the wall again, and another deluge of dirty, glacial water nearly drowned her where she sat.

She coughed and sputtered, then recovered. Though, she coughed and sputtered a little longer than she needed to this time, because she wanted to give herself a few extra seconds to think.

She had talked with the Doctor about a possible method of execution, and he had reckoned that it would be something spectacular, and crowd-pleasing. Martha now realised that it would be something personal, and spectacular, as the Judge was now asking her questions about the Doctor's specific qualities and weaknesses. This, to her, was more troubling than the disgusting cold water.

What if they asked her something she actually knew?

"Is it true that the Doctor has a binary vascular system?" the Judge asked her.

Two hearts. Shit.

She stared at him like a rabbit in headlights for a second too long. Then, she said, "I don't know."

The Judge stalked over to the wall and pressed the button himself, and this time, he didn't let go. The dousing of water came forth, but it didn't stop. She instinctively tried to wriggle away from the violent gush, but the two guards grabbed her and held her, guaranteeing that she was pounded everywhere with the rank, icy liquid, and that she couldn't breathe.

Her heartrate increased as her lungs screamed for oxygen; everything in her chest felt it was about to implode…

Until the water finally stopped, and the guards let her go. She fell to her hands and knees and gasped for air.

"I'll ask you again," the Judge said, this time not waiting for her to finish recovering. "Does the Doctor have a binary vascular system?"

"I… don't… know."

The guards hauled her to her feet again, and she was subjected a second time to a continuous stream of water. She hadn't had a chance to properly calm from the previous time, so this time, her chest hurt ten times more, as her terror mounted tenfold as well.

The water and the guards' grip stopped again, and again, she was down on her hands and knees, wondering very seriously if this was how she was going to die.

"Does the Doctor have a binary vascular system? And think very hard, Martha Jones, before you tell me you don't know," the Judge said, silkily.

She didn't answer for a long while. She stared at the floor, unsure of what to say. She was not sure she would survive it if they did this to her a third time, and they knew it; that was the point. But she was sure that if their roles were reversed, the Doctor would never give up any information about her.

"It might interest you to know, Martha, that this question is a test," he said to her, beginning to circle around her, like a caged predator. "We know that Time Lords have a binary vascular system – one of our primary planetary procedures is to regulate all heartbeats at all times, and we've had a few Time Lords come and go, over the years, as you are aware. We also know the nature of the relationship between you and the Doctor, and the fact that it would be impossible for you not to know that two hearts beat beneath his chest. The purpose of asking this question was to see if you would tell the truth. And you failed."

"I guess I did," she choked out. She coughed a few times, then, "But, to be fair, I knew that before we started shagging."

"Ah yes…" he paused, and seemed to shudder. "…the act of mating. A depraved, base tendency of lower life forms."

"That's very bleak, but... whatever."

"Of course, our planet has rid itself of this pestilent behaviour, and elevated itself to a more civilised way of maintaining pair-bonds, as well as of reproducing," the Judge explained.

"Sounds very fulfilling."

"In other parts of the universe, pair-bonds depend on such an act – there is an… urge," he commented, again, shuddering, disturbed by the subject. "Pair-bonds are more physical than cerebral."

"Not always. Love – or as you call it, pair-bonding – is strange and difficult. If you do it right, it's equally cerebral and physical.

"Love," he mused. "Love, you say?"

"Yes. What of it?"

He circled around her a couple of times and studied her.

Finally, he asked, "Is it true that the Doctor once blew up a mountain when the Pyroviles kidnapped his Companion?"

"Probably," she said, shrugging. "Kind of sounds like him. There are lots of stories from the Doctor's life that I've never heard."

"That companion's name was Noble. Donna Noble," he said.

"Okay."

"And with her, he does not have the same type of relationship as with you. It is not love. There is no pair-bonding with her, no physical component."

"Right. And?" she said, realising she'd been manipulated into mindlessly telling the truth, a split second after it was out of her mouth.

"Thank you, Martha Jones," he said, looking her over. "You've told me everything I need to know."

As she was led, dripping wet, back to their cell, she realised that they'd brought her to that room to find out the Doctor's weakness… and she'd told them.

There was a guard waiting outside her cell with a tray. It had two small portions of some sort of dried meat, and two cups of water. He handed it to her, the cell was opened, and she stepped inside, with their afternoon meal.

The Doctor was sitting on his "shelf," cross-legged, and appeared to be meditating.

When the door slammed shut, she asked, "So… lunch?"

"What happened?" he asked, getting up and stumbling toward her. He took the tray from her and set it on the floor, then hugged her tightly. She could feel his hearts pounding dangerously… and hers as well.

"Shh," she lulled. "I'm fine."

"You're shaking, and you're soaked," he said. "You are not fine. What did they do to you?"

She sighed. "They asked me whether you have an extra cache of oxygen as part of your physiology."

"What?"

"When I said I didn't know, they doused me with icy-cold sewer water or something," she told him, the distaste showing on her face. "And they asked me about something called Chronos Epivra."

He pulled away from her. "They did?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe they believe that," he said.

"Believe what? That it weakens a Time Lord?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's an old legend – total rubbish."

"So it's not a substance that can hurt you?"

"No! It's not even a real thing! It's a concept that the Council of Eikona decided to invent… for just this sort of occasion, actually."

"The Council of Eikona?"

"Yeah, like… Gallifreyan PR."

"Oh. Well, thank God."

"But… if they're asking that, it means they're trying to find out my weaknesses."

"Yes, it does," she said. "They also asked if you had a binary vascular system… I said I didn't know and they tried to drown me."

"What?" he asked, anger rising fast. "Wait, why would you say you didn't know?"

"Because I didn't want them to use it against you!"

"Martha, if you're being tortured, tell them what they want to know! For God's sake, do not suffer on my account!"

"It wasn't actually torture, Doctor – okay, maybe part of it was. But anyway, you'd do it for me!"

"That's different!"

"Why, because you're a man?"

"No, because I can regenerate!"

"Well, whatever. It turned out to be moot because they already know you have two hearts and that they can use that fact to kill you uniquely," she said.

"Damn it," he spat, beginning to pace. Martha could a vein appear in his forehead, and undoubtedly he was dealing with a tightening chest just now… and yet he paced. Apparently, he'd decided not to care.

"That's not all, Doctor," she said, unable to contain herself. "They know about us."

"About us?"

"Yeah, that we're… you know."

"So?"

"They asked me if you blew up a mountain because someone kidnapped Donna," she said.

"I did blow up a mountain… after someone kidnapped Donna, but it wasn't because."

"Well, then they made a point of the fact that you don't feel about Donna the way you feel about me. Or, rather, they made a point of getting me to admit that."

His teeth were gritted, and he began to pant. "So, they want to see what will happen if someone does something to you, someone who's not just my friend, someone I love, someone…" he stopped, to catch his breath. "They wanted to know my weakness. They want to know what would be the most painful way to kill me."

"Yes," she said, her heart racing now too. She was still somewhat reeling from the beating her own vascular system had taken during the near-drowning (twice), and now, she couldn't abate the cardiac arrest. She almost didn't want to. Part of her wanted to let it come, let it hurt.

"So, they know that the worst thing they can do to me is to inflict pain upon you," he growled. In full pace, he hyperventilated, and clutched at his chest.

"Yes," she managed. Then, "You're starting to panic. Lie down."

"So are you. And I don't want to lie down. I'm tired of being so fucking calm!" he shouted. And this surge caused him to clutch at his chest, and collapse onto his knees. "Martha… what will they do… to you?"

"I don't know," she said, joining him on the floor. "But please don't die here today. Please… calm down."

"I'm not sure I can," he said, grabbing onto her wrists.

"Doctor, I'm panicking too. I can't take care of you… I… oh my God," she cried, as she felt her heart nearly explode. She tried to croak out a few words, but nothing came.

He crawled over to the tray she had brought in, and was able to barely retrieve a cup of water, without spilling it all over. He then forced his hand into his suit coat pocket, and Martha realised what he was reaching for.

"No, no," she breathed. "We'll… need them… for later."

"Not… if we… die today," he managed to retort, extracting the little packet of beta blockers and tearing it open. His hands shook something terrible, and it was all he could do to keep the things from falling to the wet floor.

He shoved one of the pills into Martha's mouth, even though she protested. He ordered her to drink a mouthful of water and wash the pill down. It was in her mouth now… what was she going to do, spit it out and waste it?

She did as he wanted, and swallowed the pill. He then took two for himself, and lay down on the floor.

It took Martha half the time to recover. In five minutes she was up, walking around, fretting over her "patient." In ten minutes, the Doctor was on his feet, stretching, acting like all he'd needed to clear his head was a good, bracing heart attack.

"Doctor, that wasn't smart," she said. "We just used three of the five pills. We don't have enough to get us both out of here."

"Then we'd better think this through, eh? Plan our escape well," he said.

"Okay, we have about twenty-four hours before the effects wear off," she said. "Let's use them wisely. Maybe, if we play our cards right, we can even get out tonight!"

"Maybe," he said, watching her. Finally, their eyes met, and he could see that hers were filled with tears. He stepped forward and gave her a hug. "It's okay. We're fine."

"I've never been so scared in my life," she confessed.

"I know," he whispered. "But there's no need to worry now. It's over."

She nodded, and pulled away. "I know. I know. How are you?"

"Well, for a start, I now feel safe in doing this," he said, taking her chin and cheeks in both of his hands, and kissing her with gusto.

He pressed his tongue against her lips, and she parted them gladly. This was a beautiful kiss, a scorching one… and getting to kiss her at all after the couple of days they'd had was an absolute boon. This marvel of an embrace, after being starved, it seized his whole body.

And hers as well. She sighed audibly, and fell into the kiss, grabbing onto his lapels with an added bit of ardour.

"We need to talk through our escape," she said breathlessly, pulling away… half-heartedly.

"We will," he insisted, seizing her mouth again.

This time, when he grabbed her, she lost her footing. Just like on the bridge, before all hell broke loose, she stumbled backwards and found herself pinned between the Doctor and an unmoving object. Her back was pressed to the jagged wall, and she knew that what was about to happen would hurt, but it would feel amazing as well. Being stopped in their tracks – twice! – and then being completely kept from feeling anything for one another, even for just a couple of days, it had been a kind of torture. She felt like she was teetering on a precipice, just waiting for a push…

Well, this was it. This was the push.

He reached desperately for her button and zip, then he knelt and peeled her soaking wet jeans down her legs.

There's no way I'm getting those back on today, she thought absently, though, she didn't exactly care.

She kicked off her shoes, and let him finish unwrapping her from the heavy, cold denim. And, from her knickers.

Just as desperately as he had done, she grabbed for the hook and zip of his trousers, and reached inside, freeing him to take her…

And he did. He lifted her by the bum, pressed her into the wall, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and suddenly found herself filled.

She could feel him practically trembling with need, with the crazed urgency of the situation… his thrusts began immediately, and were greedy and artless. But they were deep and honest, and made her come within seconds. The release was easy and exquisite, and she laughed out loud with the relief. This was a sensation she'd rarely felt – pent-up, indulged, and so completely, happily broken. It was amazing, even to her, how close she had been, all that time…

From this point, it did not take long. He gave her another vision-blurring minute of total abandon… grunts, pants, curses, bites to her neck and shoulders, whispers of her name, her back aching and being scraped with rock. Then he gave one last hard thrust and let go. The deep, gut-punch of a moan he let out was absolutely delicious, and Martha had no idea how they hadn't both absolutely imploded without this.

Ooh! Thanks for reading. Don't forget to review! I want to hear from whoever's out there!

Perhaps unnecessary disclaimer: I reiterate that I am not a medical professional. However, I did read up on beta blockers (especially the one they are using), their applications, and their affect on the subject's ability to engage in sex. What I learned is that there are ways to keep them from messing with your sexual prowess, and age and overall health are big factors. I'm thinking that Martha, who is in her mid-twenties at this point, wouldn't be affected that way. And the Doctor, well... he's old, but he's spry!