Woah guys! Only one chapter left! It's been a really wild ride. To think that this was my very first fic and look at how it's grown! Look at how I've grown! Thanks for staying with me this long.

xv

The Doctor turned to leave, his long legs carrying him swiftly to the door. Martha stumbled after him with her pleas falling on deaf ears. She tried to lead him to light; to reason: she didn't know what he would do to Mickey in his current, agitated state, but she knew for sure that he'd regret it.

Her train of thought was interrupted when she walked straight into the back of the Time Lord, who had reached the door, but stopped just short of opening it. He stood there, as still as stone, captivated by the cracked glass in the front door. With trembling fingers, he traced the crack- a physical manifestation of the angry exchange that had happened there and a symbol of the heartache and turmoil that he felt inside.

Martha took his momentary stillness to wedge herself between The Doctor and the door. She squeezed into the small space, so he had no choice but to look at her. She looked at him defiantly, every bit of the tiny powerhouse he'd met all those years ago.

"You're here now. We're together. Isn't that enough?"

He seemed to snap out of whatever stupor he'd been in. He wasn't sure how she'd gotten there, or even when he'd gotten to the door. In his blinding rage, he'd switched to autopilot but she stood before him now begging for calm. Coaxing him back to the here and now.

"Yes. This is enough."

He took her face in his hands. Martha stood on her tiptoes in her fuzzy slippers to close the distance between them and their lips locked in a desperate plea for sanity. He crushed her to him, selfishly stealing her air. Their tongues dueled for as long as she could stand before she broke the kiss. The Doctor rested his head against hers, finessing the last vestiges of his anger back in check.

"Come on. Let's go home."

A slow smile spread over her face and brightened her features. As he led her out of the door and into the TARDIS with a new sense of purpose, she finally felt like everything was going to be OK.

He pulled her through the sentient ship and back to the room she'd dreamed about for the last week. She noticed that the room was cleaner; her black dress, which had been no more than a crumpled stain on the plush burgundy carpet, now hung neatly on the back of the door and the bed was flawlessly made. The candles had been lit.

"She approves. She wants you to stay." He whispered before burying his face in her neck. Her heart filled with gratitude for the machine and she felt a warmth flow over her- the TARDIS saying, "You are very welcome." Here, Martha was wanted, needed, respected, and loved- what more could she ask for?

The Doctor led her to the bed and laid her down, leaving a trail of sweet kisses down her neck and chest. He gently pushed her robe open to reveal the skin underneath. "God, I missed you," he whispered into her inner thigh before dragging his tongue up one leg, then the other. Martha donned her most seductive smile and simply said, "Prove it".

He accepted that challenge.

He laid behind her with one arm wrapped tightly around her. She'd fallen asleep straight away after he proved just how much he'd missed her. And he proved it over and over and over again.

He listened to her steady breathing as they laid skin to skin.

Yes. This is enough. He'd said.

He hated lying to her, but the look on her face was worse- as if she was just moments away from breaking. As if she was using the last of her strength to stand up to him. In truth, she was enough for him. Sometimes, she made him question whether he was enough to keep her. But she was his, and so was her pain; he couldn't move forward without a resolution to their current situation. So, he quietly crept out of bed, careful not to wake her, then he got to work.

He went back to his own quarters, showered, and dressed himself in another blue suit. Then, he made his way to the main control room. Ducking under the console, he began connecting wires, creating room for what was to come. When he came back up, he pulled the viewing screen over to get a better look at his handiwork- Perfect. The Doctor then tapped a few keys on the keyboard but the TARDIS thought ahead. She had already located their target.

The rainforests of Brazil were already treacherous enough without an 8-foot tall potentially dangerous alien who'd been roaming around, snacking on the local livestock camouflaging itself in the canopy. However, a bounty was a bounty and Torchwood paid rather well. "Por aqui, Smith! A fera está nas árvores!" Over here, Smith! The beast is in the trees!

His small team of guides and local hunters were mediocre at best and his rudimentary knowledge of local language and custom didn't make the situation better, but everyone was doing their best. He just didn't have the heart to tell them that their best wasn't good enough. He ran toward the shouts of his team. "Quickly, Smith! It's getting away!" It took him a moment to realize that he could fully understand his team now. Either they could all speak fluent English in perfect British accents the entire time, or something bigger was happening- and he had an idea of what that something was.

When he heard the telltale sound of the TARDIS, he threw down his weapon in anger. "What the hell! I had everything under control!"

Of course he was here to neutralize the alien threat. Why wouldn't he be?

However, his brooding was interrupted when his surroundings began to change. The TARDIS was materializing around him. However, when the process was complete, he had no clue where he was. There was no sign of the gold and brown organic fixtures that he'd grown used to in his time with The Doctor. He was in a white room with a white table and a silver chair pulled out and waiting for him. Across from that chair was a blue-suited Doctor seated in an identical, if not slightly taller, chair with his arms folded across his chest. A notepad and pen sat in the middle of the table.

"Hello, Mickey."

Mickey stood stunned: if someone would have told him he'd end up in the TARDIS as opposed to in the clutches of some carnivorous off-worlder, he'd have stayed in bed. The Doctor sat there, arms folded and legs crossed, with a remarkably bored look on his face. Mickey took the cold metal chair across from his adversary and donned a similar expression.

"Doctor. To what do I owe the pleasure? Mind if we make this quick? I was kind of in the middle of something."

"My thoughts exactly, old friend. Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" He said coolly. "I know everything. I know what happened between you and Martha."

Though he was surprised, Mickey kept his cool. "And?"

"And… I need you gone. Out of her life. Out of our lives… for good. No flowers, no phone calls, no notes. Nothing. You've caused too much damage here."

Mickey scoffed in pure, unchecked indignation. "I've caused too much damage? Good one, mate. Tell it again. You're the reason we're in this mess in the first place! You're the reason she's broken. Not me. Yeah, she hurt me but, honestly, I don't even blame her. I blame you. First Rose-"

"This has nothing to do with Rose."

"Oh, this has everything to do with Rose. As soon as she met you, she was putty in your hands. I have no idea how you managed to do it to Martha, but you've done it."

At this, the Doctor laughed. "You know as well as I do that Martha Jones is no one's putty."

"Whatever you say. Point is: you had your finger in my peanut butter for far longer than this thing with Martha has been going on. You injected yourself into my relationship long before I even came back 'round. You were the third party in our marriage from the beginning." Mickey was angry. By this time he had raised from his seat and was banging his fist on the table. How dare The Doctor imply that he was the interloper in his own marriage?

"My point, Mickey," The Doctor said, raising from the table as well and leaning upon it with flat palms. His face was close to Mickey's and his tone dripped with venom and condescension. "She was mine before she was ever yours. Now I'm back and I need you gone. You're a loose end. Do you know what that means? It means that one way or another, you need to be dealt with. There are so many things that I want to do to you right now. So many things that I could do, and no one would know the difference. You'd be considered another casualty of your profession and no one would be the wiser. But instead, I come to you with a choice. I was granted mercy by that beautiful, brilliant woman and she gave me a second chance to make things right. I'm extending that mercy to you. "

Never breaking eye contact, he shoved the notepad and pen in Mickey's direction.

"Option 1. Write. Write a letter. Apologize for what you said- for causing her pain. Wish her well and sign it with love. Finish your work here, take the first thing smoking back home and finalize your divorce, and never, ever contact her again.

Option 2. Disregard this meeting. Disregard my mercy. Deal with the consequences. Oh, and there will be consequences, Mr. Smith. Disregard my warnings and I will reconstruct your life into my exquisitely torturous interpretation of Hell in a way that you know only I can. I will make your life miserable and make sure you experience every moment of it. Martha is all I have and by Rassilon's grace she's given me a second chance. I will not have it taken away from me."

The look in the Doctor's eye was one he'd seen before. He'd seen it not just in the Doctor against some Earth shattering evil, but in Rose in the parallel world and in Martha during their marriage. It was the look of someone who meant what they said. Someone who knew something that you didn't know and never wanted to find out about. He swallowed thickly; The Doctor's choice wasn't a choice at all. It was an ultimatum.

"I gave that woman everything. I loved her with everything. Treated her better than you ever did. Better than you ever could." He said quietly.

The Doctor's tone softened as well. "No one's denying that. But your time has passed. Write the letter. Do the right thing… the smart thing."

Mickey sat back down in the cool metal chair and began to write.

Almost done! Let me know what you guys think! Review!

xoxo,LPL