A/N: I suppose I should have warned everyone in the first chapter, but this series isn't going to run chronologically. Eventually, when it's done, I may go back and rearrange stuff, but for now, I'm writing it as it comes to me. I can't remember if Martha calls the Doctor 'Mr. Smith' again after 'The Family of Blood' or not, but I don't think she does. If you don't like it, then go blow up a chicken with your timey-wimey device.
Oh, and yeah…they're not mine. Got it? One, I'm an American, so somehow, it would just be wrong for me to own Doctor Who. And if I did, Martha would have gotten over this stupid teenage infatuation thing a heck of a lot faster.
"Welcome aboard, Miss Jones."
"It's my pleasure, Mr. Smith."
"Ms. Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?"
"Mr. Smith, I will!"
It was strange, really. Of all of the horrible things that she'd had to endure, living in 1913—the racism, the humiliation of being a maid, and being treated like a piece of furniture instead of a person…it was strange that out of all of this, that saying his name would be so hard.
She understood why the TARDIS had arranged it the way she had. John Smith was a common alias of the Doctor's, so why shouldn't it be his name as a human? But it stung worse than anything, because it was almost a mockery of their game. Smith and Jones. It was a staple of their relationship, from the very beginning. Even long after she knew his name wasn't really Mr. Smith, she still called him that in sport, especially when he would start with the 'Ms. Jones'. It was simple, casual fun for both of them, something unique and special that Martha somehow knew was their's. She couldn't have said how she knew it, but somehow she knew that whatever his relationship with Rose had been, that this hadn't been something that they had done.
That was why it hurt so much to walk into his room every day, look at the man who had the Doctor's face but not his mind, and call him Mr. Smith. Why it stung a little more that the woman he was falling in love with was named Joan, when Martha knew that it should still be Smith and Jones. Phonetics could have a funny effect on people.
The worse thing was that standing there, in front of the TARDIS, watching her Doctor walk up the hill in the rain and seeing the pain that was still etched on his face…the worst part was knowing that after this, she could never really call him Mr. Smith in jest again. Because now it would always pull up dark memories, for both of them. Never again could they have the light, funny comedy of Smith and Jones. And Martha regretted that more than anything.