"Mr. Smith, was it?"
"Yes, Dr. Jones."
"Good luck."
The mysterious man who called himself Mr. Smith stands there in front of me, looking awkward. He leans in and plants a tender kiss on my lips, then dashes off. I stare after him, dazed.
"Martha! Snap out of it!" I shake myself mentally and dash off down the hall. I see a young girl slumped against the wall with a gash in her arm. I kneel down beside her and check for a pulse. It's weak, but I find it. I lift her in my arms and dash for the nearest room with beds: the intensive care unit. I lay her down on the clean white mattress and get to work, laying an oxygen mask over her face, putting cold compresses on her many bruises, stitching up her arm. Other doctors straggle in with patients of there own, but I am cool and calm, saving this girl's life. After a while though, I hear a familiar voice. I look up from the little girl, who is sleeping peacefully, and see Mr. Smith. This is the first good look I have had of him. He is tall, with spiked brown hair. He wears an olive-brown trench coat over a bright blue suit. He has a pensive look on his face. "I think it's time you knew who I really am."
"Other than the alien who kissed me?"
"Alien?"
"That- thing- when it scanned me- it said something about facial contact with a non-human life-form?"
"Ah. Yes. About that. Well- you see-"
"Shut up. Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor. Come with me."