So, this chapter's a bit darker then the other ones, it also plays with the format a bit. Sorry it's so different, I promise it gets happier at some point, I just have to play with the characters a bit more…love doing that, humour me.

Anyway, hope you like it anyway! Thank you so much to those who reviewed, it really does mean a lot to me! Enjoy!

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Dear Martha,

I'm happy to hear that you're coming, but could you maybe tell me-

There was noise from somewhere in the flat. A small crashing sound, as if someone had just broken a vase. It was impossible for two reasons, one being that she didn't own a vase and the other, far more disturbing reason, was that she was the only one there. Slowly, quietly, she crept across her bedroom to the doorway, just to take a quick peek. She was sure she was imagining things, that the rain pouring outside combined with the horror movie she had just watched was making her jumpy. She took a deep breath, and peered out into the hallway.

She nearly screamed. There was a figure standing in the dark of the living room. Tall and eerie, it looked almost as if it was waiting for something. The phantom stood almost casually in the center of the room, rolling backwards occasionally on what Tish assumed were his heels. She took a broom conveniently left in the center of the hallway, silently thanking her lazy tidying skills. Holding the stick up like a bat, she stepped out of the room and flicked on the light switch.

The figure turned, it was a man.

"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY FLAT??!!!" Tish screamed at the tall man in the long brown trench coat and blue pinstripe suit. He looked confused, as if the answer should be obvious.

"I'm here to meet you, I believe," he answered calmly, "Tish Jones, I assume?"

"I…er…"

"Tish!" Tish turned from the man and nearly ran into Martha standing behind her. Her sister smiled, "We've been looking all over the flat for you,"

"I was…uh…that is…" Tish turned to face the man again who smiled before she turned back to Martha, "I was in my bedroom."

"Oh," said Martha, smiling, "Ok, good to know, I see you've already met the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" she turned towards the man.

"Doctor John Smith," he said quickly, "Martha's friend?"

"Oh…" Tish replied dumbly, "Right…sorry, I didn't hear either of you come in…do you still have my key?"

"Obviously," said Martha jokingly, "How else would we have gotten in? Lock picking device?"

"Sonic screwdriver," Martha and Tish turned and stared at the Doctor, Dr. John Smith as he was apparently called. His smile faded, "It was only a joke."

"Right then…" said Martha uneasily, giving her friend a look that said something Tish couldn't quite place, "Anyone want tea? You do still have tea, yeah?"

"Yeah," Tish agreed, "It's in cupboard…let me just go change out of my pajamas…didn't realize you were both coming so late…."

"It was sort of a last minute thing," said Dr. John Smith, "I can only stay for a few minutes."

"Oh…" Tish hesitated, "Alright…will you…er…"

"He'll be here," said Martha, "Don't worry about it…two sugars?"

"Yeah, I'll just be a second," Martha smiled and Tish walked passed Dr. Smith to her bedroom. There was something odd about him, though he had a nice enough smile to seem friendly. Maybe if she hadn't just run into him like that in the middle of her dark flat, with the rain pouring on the windows and a recently viewed horror movie still in mind, he might not had seemed quite so sinister.

Still, she realized as she finished changing and checked her hair in the mirror, she'd never heard of someone frightening or dangerous wearing a bright blue suit with red trainers, he couldn't possibly be that scary. Finally satisfied with how she looked, she took a deep breath, and walked out into the hallway.

The two of them were sitting in the living room, each with a hot cup of tea in hand. A third cup of tea, apparently meant to be Tish's, sat waiting on the coffee table in front of the couch they were sitting on. Tish took it and sat down in the armchair across from them.

"So," she said, as calmly as possible, "You're Martha's mystery man."

"I guess you could call me that…" he said hesitantly, "suits me."

"Where is it you're going?" Tish asked, "You said you're going to have to leave,"

"I, er…have…"

"Business!" burst Martha,

"Right," he agreed, "I have business I have to attend to, I suppose…can I go do that, Martha?"

"You have eight minutes," she said sternly, though there was a smile as she said it, "You're not swanning off yet."

"Speaking of swanning off," said Tish bluntly, "Why is it that you absolutely had to leave without giving Martha a chance to let someone know, I mean couldn't you have at least waited for her to call…"

"She's an adult," Dr. Smith answered seriously, "I figured she could make her own decisions without getting permission from her mother."

"Well of course she can!" said Tish, "You're right, she is an adult, but it would still be nice to know where she is every now and then. I mean we're her family, we'd hadn't heard from her in over a month and we all live in the same city!"

"I did say I was sorry about that…" said Martha interjecting.

"Not your fault," continued Tish, "And what about you, Dr. Smith? How would you feel if some close member of your family just disappears for a month, without so much as a word, hm? How'd you like it?" Dr. Smith's face went rigid, his large, dark eyes intense.

"I don't have any family," he said simply, "And I never will."

He looked at Martha and stood up, "I'll see you later Martha, I hope I met your sister's approval." He dug his hands into his pockets and walked out, an almost sad expression on his face as he did. Tish turned her gaze back to Martha, whose expression didn't look good. Tish braced herself.

"Brilliant Tish," was all she say, the anger evident in her tone, "absolutely brilliant."

"Well how was I suppose to know he didn't have a family?"

"You still could have been a bit nicer to him, I did say it was my fault I didn't call."

"Because he wouldn't let you!"

"No," said Martha, thrusting her teacup onto the coffee table and standing up, "because I forgot. I suppose insensitivity runs in the family. Goodbye Tish." She started to walk out, Tish stood up.

"Martha wait!" Too late. Martha was gone before she could argue anything. She slumped back down onto the couch, and looked down at the two empty teacups on the coffee table. Behind her the rain poured against the windows, and a strange wirring sound could be heard coming from the outside. Not that she cared. Her thoughts returned to the letter she had been writing earlier.

Dear Martha,

I'm happy to hear that you're coming, but do you mind…

…Never mind.

I'm sorry,

Tish.