Back again! That didn't take too long did it? I still don't own anything.

I really want to thank my very first reviewer, Black Diamonds 07! Thankkkkssss!

Enjoy!

Chapter II:

It wasn't the argument that had ended it all. No, it was probably over before it began. No matter how much she wanted to believe in the love that she feigned or how devoted to them she'd been, those relationships were always destined to fail. She didn't get a chance to confront it with Tom- her first husband. He'd been murdered in Africa during a peacekeeping mission just weeks after their honeymoon. She mourned for the man she loved but she knew, even before the wedding, that she wasn't in love. She'd tried so hard to fill the space that had been left empty. Abandoned. Tom was a piece in the puzzle that didn't quite fit. His family had never forgiven her for how easily she'd moved on.

In Mickey, she thought she had found someone to finally fill the space. He had known him. Traveled with him. He was one of the few people on the planet that could understand her because he'd lived in the majesty of the Doctor, too. They both knew what it felt like to live in the shadow of someone else. Who knew that when they met again as Torchwood associates, things would end up like this? He expressed his attraction that day and bedded her that night and wed her a mere 3 months later.

She'd gained 2 new names in 2 years, but used none but her own. Not Martha Milligan-Smith, or Martha Jones- Smith- she would remain Martha Jones, now and forever. Later, he'd say that it should have been a clear sign; he should have known when she flat out refused to adopt his name that they were doomed. She wanted to prove him wrong, but in truth he was just another ill-fitting piece.

3 months ago:

He hadn't said a word. Just walked past her and up to the master bedroom in their lavish suburban home as she followed him, confused. "Hello to you too, Mr. Grumpy", She said with a nervous laugh. No response. "I brought home Chinese, if you want… If not, I'll put yours in the 'fridge." Nothing. "Okay. Mind telling me what the hell is going on? Did something happen at work? What's wrong? Can we talk about it? " He pulled the suitcases out of the closet in silence and began to fill them with his clothes.

"There's nothing to talk about." Mickey blurted out, no longer able to keep his anger in check. He knew that they wouldn't have to talk about it just as long as he kept his mouth shut, but he was never good at that- Gran had always said so. His voice was laced with disgust. He refused to meet her incredulous gaze. Did she really not understand?

"What the hell does that even mean? You're not making sense! Mickey, can you please just talk to me?" she was pleading now.

Finally he snapped.

"You know what, Martha? Fuck you. Fuck you and this house and this sham of a marriage. I can't do this anymore." Now in a full rage.

"Excuse me? Fuck me? What the hell have I done to deserve that? What are you actually trying to say, Mickey? No more of this cryptic bullshit. Just say what you have to say. If you're leaving then obviously this has been on your mind for a while." Suddenly realization hit her. She'd always been a bright girl, observant and attentive. She'd been simply ignoring the giant elephant in the room for a long time. Maybe even since before the wedding.

"Is this about the Doctor?" Her voice was almost at a yell.

"Isn't it always?" he scoffed sarcastically, using that tone she hated. "No, Martha. This is about you. You're still in love with him. You're not over him and you never will be. I thought we could put this behind us. That if I loved you enough you could learn to love me."

"I do love you!" It couldn't be ending. Not like this, could it?

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you'll actually believe it. I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to live in his bloody shadow. Not again. Not ever."

He'd finished packing his few belongings. There was nothing left. Nothing left to say, nothing left fight for. No reason to stay.

"The crazy thing is that I was actually in love with you. Like really, properly in love. I'd do anything for you. But you," he broke off in a sad chuckle, refusing to let the tears spill. "You could never let go. You did this to us. And all for some bloke who could never love you back." He finally looked at her, but it felt as if he was looking through her: through her clothes and skin and bones. He looked through to her very core and was disgusted with what he saw.

"Maybe now I'll be able to find someone normal. Someone not so fucked up and damaged. I deserve that much."

She was speechless as he brushed past her out of the room. Out of her life. Wasn't that their silent agreement? Wasn't that what this marriage was all about? Neither of them could be with the person they truly loved, so they'd chosen to be with each other. They were going through the motions of being a happy family.

But didn't he like that? She loved the motions. The game. Playing pretend. Even in their respectively dangerous lines of work, it was a safe life they had in the suburbs and now it was all crumbling down.

She'd driven him away and subconsciously ruined her marriage. She'd hurt one of the bravest and most brilliant men she had ever met but what was worse, was that everything he'd said had been completely spot on. Looking back, she supposed they were always headed for this. Barely married for a year and she'd already managed to cock it up.

The Doctor stood from his seat on her concrete front steps- envelope still in hand. "Hello, Martha." He said, a small, sympathetic smile playing on his lips.

He towered over her, she noticed- not for the first time. She simply stared at her old friend, drinking in his appearance. Blue pinstripes today, navy trainers, brown overcoat, and his trademark perfectly messy hair.

This was the man who she'd fallen in love with what felt like a lifetime ago. It had, of course, only been 3 years but she felt in the far reaches of her heart that she'd loved him forever. Martha brushed off the emotions that threatened to overtake her as she stepped back into the role in which he rather unceremoniously placed her all those years ago: best friend.

Martha let out an exaggerated sigh, suddenly aware of her shiny pink dress and smeared makeup. "Blimey, you look like my pimp! Let's get in the house before the neighbors start to talk." She didn't want to discuss it right now. Not Mickey, not the divorce, and definitely not how she'd spent her evening. He got the hint and followed her into the house.

I honesty don't know what's going to happen next. I have a clue where I want it to end up but things could change! ;)