FOUR

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"Right, Queen: avoided, palace: escaped from. Now all we have to worry about is getting across the fields," he said, bending over with his hands on his knees, watching her jump to the ground as he got his breath back.

She wiped her hands together and looked at him for a long moment, letting herself breathe and appreciate that she hadn't just fallen three stories. "Look, Doctor, I'm sorry about being all - girlie," she said slowly.

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" he asked conversationally, straightening up and watching her walk past him, toward the grass verge.

"Probably not," she allowed, shaking her head at herself.

"Martha, don't move!" he said suddenly. She stopped, one foot in the air.

"What?"

"These fields look solid but they're not," he said quickly. "Here look, let me go first," he said dismissively, walking past her and putting his foot further out, testing the grass before letting it take his weight. He turned and looked at her. "Come on then," he said brightly, stretching his right hand out toward her.

She looked at him, taking in the way he tacitly expected her to let him lead her across mysteriously 'not solid' ground, simply because he was offering his hand, in that typically arrogant way he had.

She grinned and took hold of it firmly, and he smiled a confident display of understanding, turning and starting out across the green sea slowly.

.

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They inched along and it was a good hour before she plucked up the courage.

"So, the Queen then - old flame, is she?" she called ahead to him.

"She wishes," he snorted, testing the ground with his foot before leaning on it and shuffling forward.

"So how did you meet her?" she asked gamely. "Come on, this is taking ages."

"Elton John!" he crowed suddenly, stopping and looking back at her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Elton John! If there's nowhere to go, you won't go, if there's nowhere to run, you go slow-"

"Doctor!" she growled in frustration. "No it is not an Elton John song!"

"Oh. Well let me think, then," he said, a little disheartened, carrying on with his shuffling and testing, shuffling and testing. She simply followed, deciding to abandon her quest for information. "They'll know we've gone by now," he said suddenly, seriously. "It's just a matter of time before they follow us. We may have to risk a bit of a sprint, I think."

"Fine by me," she said heartily. "I'm just about solidifying with all this gunk on me. You owe me a new top, new jeans, and new shoes," she sniffed.

"Martha Jones, when we get back to the TARDIS I'll scrub you myself," he said innocently. "It was my fault, after all."

"I'm not five you know," she said quickly, pushing sudden images from her head, "but anyway, you weren't to know we'd landed on her beach."

"Is that what got us arrested?" he called over his shoulder. "Touchy girl, that one."

"Hmm. Very touchy, if she had her way," she observed.

"Oh yes!" he said suddenly with disgruntled conviction. "Last time I was here, she-." He went silent suddenly. He sniffed to himself and cleared his throat slowly. "Anyway," he said quietly, and she realised he was not at all happy.

She decided to leave it and simply followed him across the grass obediently.

"Doctor," she said suddenly, and he paused.

"What?"

"They're onto us," she said urgently. He looked back at her, then past her to the small swarm of lights following behind them.

"Hmm. A mile away, maybe less," he said. He looked at the one field left before the open sand of the beach. He bit his lip, then looked past her again.

"Can we make it?" she dared, not wanting to look behind her again.

"If we run," he said, undecided.

"And you don't want to?" she realised.

"Not really," he said gingerly. "These fields are full of swamps. If you fall into one, you're pretty much stuck fast."

"Ah. In green slime?" she asked.

"In green slime. Which doesn't really matter, cos you sink in and it's game over," he added philosophically. She nodded, then looked back.

"Well then. It's stumble along like this and get caught, or run for our lives and possibly die in Flock - flockin - flockin-aukini - stuff!" she said.

"Floccinaucinihilipilificus slime," he supplied helpfully, and she smiled. He sighed and turned round to look at her, his face now much more serious. "So," he said quietly. She waited. "What do we do, Martha Jones? Stumble along or toss caution to the wind and make a run for it?" he asked curiously.

She looked at him, taking in his rather too serious gaze, his jaw set to one side, his large brown eyes watching her speculatively.

"Really?" she asked quietly. "I decide and we'll just do it?"

"Yep," he said, shrugging slightly.

She swallowed. "What if I'm wrong?"

"There's no such thing as wrong," he smiled suddenly, "only less right once all the facts are in."

She grinned, then squeezed his hand suddenly. "Then we run," she said.

"Run."

"Yes!"

"Ok," he said simply, turning back round to look over the field. "Stay behind me. If I fall, let go as fast as you can."

"What?" she demanded. "You think I'm just going to-"

"Yes," he said suddenly, turning back to look at her. "If I fall, I'll drag you down in a heartbeat. Let me go and make a run for it - straight for the TARDIS."

"And then?" she dared, feeling her chest constrict.

"And then she'll take you home. She knows where you live," he said quietly.

"Doctor…" She looked at her feet, then up at him. "Doctor, I promise I'll let you go if you fall."

"Good girl," he said, relieved.

"If you promise me that you'll let me go if I fall," she added quickly.

"Now, Martha, come on-"

"No! Fair's fair!" she grinned.

He looked at her for a long moment, thinking, it seemed. "When I first met you, I just took my tie off," he mused quietly, and she blinked, confused. "Just stood there, right in front of you, and all I did was take my tie off." He sighed forlornly. "I should have just grabbed you and run. Right then. Right there," he added, as if to himself.

She squeezed his fingers. He sucked in a deep breath, straightening and letting the look of sadness wash from his face in an instant.

"Fine, have it your way. Come on then!" he cried.

He began to run and she felt herself pulled along. She tried to keep up but he was a bit of a sprinter.

They were nearly across the field.

Fifty feet.

Forty feet.

We're going to make it!

Thirty feet –

She felt her feet sliding and realised the ground beneath her was giving way. She yanked on his hand to let go.

She tumbled round and downwards, feeling hot, rank slime and earth all around her. She clamped her mouth shut and tried to hold her breath as earth and slime pressed on her face and body.

She felt some of it fall away and she opened her eyes, looking down to find a chasm opening up under her. Suddenly she was swinging freely above a bed of reeking slime, as if she'd simply fallen through the tiny ventilation hole in the lid of a giant compost bin.

She spat out the smell from her mouth and shook her head, lifting her free hand to knock the slime from her face.

"Martha!" he shouted at her angrily. She looked up. "I told you to stay behind me!"

"I was behind you!" she shouted back.

She realised the painful clamping on her wrist was his hand. Earth tumbled over her suddenly in a small shower. She shook it from her face and looked up. He was lying on his front along the edge of the hole, one arm out holding her wrist. The fallen soil had come from the verge under him.

She knew what came next.

"Doctor!" she called. "Let go! Quickly!"

"Don't be stupid!" he called back, his face red, his teeth clenched from the exertion of shouting and taking her weight on one hand.

"You'll fall! We'll both fall!" she protested. "Let go! Before you get pulled down!"

"Shan't!" he shouted petulantly through gritted teeth.

She felt herself growl with frustration. "You promised!" she accused, feeling a lump in her throat. My mum, Leo… Tish… Dad…

"Then I lied!" he shouted angrily.

She squeezed her eyes shut, letting her head fall slowly.

So this is it, she thought wildly. This is the day I leave them. And they'll just think it was some accident on the M25, or worse. There'll be posters up asking people if they've seen me, if anyone's found a body in the woods. And they'll never stop looking.

She realised her face was wet and sniffed, wiping it quickly and looking back up at the alien lying between her and a very messy death.

The alien.

The alien.

"Let go," she whispered. She cleared her throat. "I'm not dragging you down too!" she called clearly.

"Martha Jones," he said indignantly. "You've never dragged me down! Now come on, get up!"

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her face wet.

How long's he been doing this? He knows everything, he's seen everything… He is someone, someone important and useful and needed and wonderful. What happens if he doesn't get out of here? What happens to all those places that can't look out for themselves? Those strange far-away places that are waiting for his accidental help, but just don't know it yet?

She sniffed, seeing possible futures play out in her head in a flash.

So he's the brave one, is he? I'll show him 'brave'.

She tugged on her wrist.

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