Disclaimer: This show does not belong to me. Neither does the fandom, the actors, the sets, the costumes, or this computer.

Okay, so summer's here, and I'm (marginally) less busy. So have an update! I promise, they will get more frequent. And this one's quite long, so enjoy it!
(Since it's been so long since an update, you may need to backtrack to the last chapter quickly and read the last paragraph or so, in order to understand what's happening.)

Chapter 8: Not Quite A Complete Plan

Martha stood with her back pressed against the wall, wide-eyed with worry and surprise. He remembered! John remembered being the Doctor! Panic flashed through her mind as she wondered what she was supposed to do now.

She was about to rush down the stairs and run back to the TARDIS in a frenzy, when the doors flew open for a second time and John emerged, looking confused and bewildered. He stared up the stairs after Rose for a moment, and then noticed Martha leaning against the white wall.

"Oh!" he said blankly, eyebrows raised with surprise. "Hello, Martha! I, uh, I don't -" He broke off abruptly, staring back up the staircase with confusion.

Martha snapped back to life, willing the dread and worry from her mind, and looking at John firmly. "We were going to meet for lunch." she supplied, since he looked too lost and confused to remember a thing.

"Yes!" he agreed, looking back down at her. "Yes, we were. Uh, could you just wait here for a moment?" He smiled apologetically.

She paused, then nodded defeatedly. He flew past her up the stairs, and she found herself watching him retreat sadly. "There's always someone else." she muttered, and slid down the wall to sit on the floor as she waited for John to return.

- - - - - - -

John slowed his pace as he approached the only door on this side of the topmost level. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and rapped on the door three times with his knuckles.

Rose turned with a startled gasp as she heard the knocking on the door. She knew who it was immediately. After a pause, she stood up and tiptoed a little closer to the door.

John rapped on the door again - three sharp, short taps.

"I'm fine." Rose called out, and there was a pause. Then,

"Then why have you locked yourself in a disused room at the top of a skyscraper?"

She sighed with annoyance and walked to the door. Hesitantly, she released the lock and pulled down on the handle, opening the door just enough for John to see her face.

"See: I'm fine!" she said, faking a smile.

John peered over her shoulder, but she closed the door slightly and raised her head to block the view.

"What's in there?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing." she said, attempting to close the door.

"Then what do you do in there?"

"Nothing!" she insisted. "I just…sit. And think."

There was a pause, and then Rose sighed. "I'm fine! Honestly! Go, have some lunch!"

"I will!" he said indignantly, her tone making him feel like a child. "I'm meeting with Martha, right now!"

Rose's stomach flipped over, though she wasn't sure why. "Then go! You're skinny enough already!"

He smiled at her feeble attempt at a joke, and reluctantly stepped away from the door. She smiled goodbye and pushed the door closed slowly. John sighed resignedly, stuck his hands in his pockets, and trudged down the stairs.

Martha greeted him at the bottom of the staircase with a broad, but forced, smile. He returned it, and they walked down to reception in silence.

Meanwhile, Rose paced back across to the middle of the room and sat down again in the pile of paper. She put her head on her hands and breathed out slowly, then reached for a piece of paper and a pencil that had been thrown on the floor. Resting the paper on the floor, she titled the sheet 'Martha - the companion', and began to draw.

- - - - - - -

Martha and John sat in silence as they ate in the cafeteria. John gazed around the room peacefully, absent-mindedly placing chips in his mouth, and Martha ignored her own salad, whilst staring in return at John, studying him for any sign of the Doctor.

"Martha?" John asked abruptly.

"Yeah?" replied Martha, looking down at her salad.

"How long have we known each other?" he asked, and she swallowed nervously.

"About ten years?" she pretended to guess. "I thought you remembered that?"

"I do, but…" He frowned. "It's as if…I know you, but I don't remember you. I know you're my friend, I know you're a good person, I know you…but I don't remember…us meeting. Or having fun. Or doing, well, anything."

Martha smiled sympathetically and reached out for his hand. "I know it's hard," she forced herself to say. "But once you're better, you'll start to remember things."

"Thing is…" he began, seemingly unsure of whether or not to continue. "I keep having these dreams." Martha raised her eyebrows with pretend curiosity, attempting to forget what she'd already heard upstairs. "I dream that I'm this…traveller." he continued, taking no notice of her reactions. "This adventurer - 'The Doctor'." He said the words as if in awe of the character, and Martha smiled vacantly at the irony. "And, my partner - I mean, my field partner, at Torchwood - Rose, she's been in them a lot, actually." After a pause, he suddenly looked at Martha, embarrassed, and as if he'd said too much. Her face fell, ever so slightly, and there was an awkward pause while the two friends ate their lunch in silence. Martha was almost relieved when their lunch were interrupted.

"Uh, excuse me?" a strong Welsh accent was heard from behind her, and John looked up to the man. "Are you John Smith?" Martha turned around to look at the source of the voice now, and saw a young man in a suit, looking questioningly at John with hopeful eyes. John nodded, smiling again, and the man let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank God." he said, walking closer. "You're the fifth man I've asked this afternoon!"

John laughed and indicated for the man to sit down.

"Ianto Jones." he said, holding out his hand, and John shook it as Ianto sat down at the table.

"Well, I'm currently studying the more adventurous side of Torchwood, and I'm going to be working with you and Rose Tyler for a while." he told John, and Martha's mind drifted out of the conversation, sensing she wouldn't be involved in it. She heard Ianto tell John about how he'd had some experience and wanted to become a full-time field agent, and then tuned out of the conversation completely, giving an excuse to John as she stood up from the table, though she wasn't even sure if he'd noticed.

Heading out of the cafeteria, she threw the remainder of her salad in the bin and looked around nervously before starting up the stairs to John and Rose's office near the top of the building. It had been her weekly ritual since they'd arrived: walking up to the second-to-top floor, and checking that the fob watch was still in its place, on a desk in John's office. Briefly smiling at anyone she passed, Martha tried her best to try and fit in with the other workers who's offices were this high up in the building, but the crowd soon thinned out, and by the time she'd reached John's floor, she was on her own in the stairwell.

She took a deep breath and stepped forward to open the door to John's office, but stepped back in alarm when she saw a figure coming down the stairs from the top floor. Backing away, she sighed with relief as she recognised the person as Rose.

"Sorry," she began. "Am I allowed up here?"

Rose, seeming to only just notice her, walked down the stairs to Martha, smiling almost forcedly. "Not really, but I won't tell." she joked, and Martha smiled.

"It was Rose, right?" she asked, and Rose nodded.

"And you're…Martha?"

"Yeah."

The was a pause, and Martha considered walking back down the stairs, before Rose stepped forwards.

"Look," she began wearily. "I don't want to hassle you about it, but…who exactly is John?"

Martha shifted uncomfortably. "How d'you mean?"

"He says…he says he has dreams." Rose told her awkwardly.

"He just imaginative." she lied back.

"He says he travels. In space."

"They're just…stories." Martha backed away slightly, but Rose stepped forwards too.

"And in time." Rose added.

"They're not real." she insisted.

"But these 'travels', they're -" she broke off. "Sorry, never mind."

Martha hesitated, seeing that Rose was troubled. "What is it?"

"It's…it's nothing." Rose turned, about to walk away.

"Miss? I mean, Rose?" Martha asked, and Rose turned back to face her.

"My friend," she started slowly. "He used to travel. A lot. And John's stories, well they're…it's just…" She looked Martha in the eyes and seemed to think better of what she was going to say. "No. Never mind. Look, I'd better be off." she finished, walking past Martha down the stairs.

"Sure." Martha replied, and watched Rose leave before peering in through the window in the door to the office. Seeing that it was empty, she quietly pushed open the door and slid inside.

Martha crept across the large room until she reached the desk at which the fob watch usually lay, forgotten. But looking at the desk, she saw it was empty, devoid of any sign of the watch. Panicking slightly, Martha rummaged around in the drawers and on the floor near the desk, but after minutes of searching, she left the room empty handed and eager to get back to the TARDIS.

- - - - - - -

Wilson locked up his 'office' and threw the keys back in his bag lazily. Trudging slowly down the dim corridor, he yawned loudly and rooted through his bag for his key card. Dodging the outstretched arms of the numerous discarded mannequins in the basement, he slipped his card in the slot by the door, and was about to exit the basement when he heard a loud crash behind him. Turning abruptly, he saw a fallen mannequin lying on the floor, and sighing frustratedly, he walked back along the dingy hall to the plastic man. He picked it up, holding his back for support, and leant it against a wall, then started to walk back to the exit.

Absent-mindedly, he traced the same path he took every day out of the store, barely noticing as one of the mannequins on display in the closed shop raised an arm as he walked past. Frowning, he retraced his steps backwards, where the shop dummy was now turning its head to 'look' at Wilson.

His mouth fell slightly open and he peered around the dummy's shoulder.

"Is tha' you, Dan? Trisha?" he asked curiously, but no one was stood behind the dummy. It raised its arm higher, and Wilson took hold of it, annoyed.

"Now, listen here, whoever's -" he froze as the arm broke off in his hand, though the head was still moving. "Ben? Jacob? Come on boys, We're lockin' up."

The mannequin turned its body to face Wilson and raised its remaining arm to grip his shoulder.

"Get off!" he cried out, trying in vain to thrust it off, but before he knew it, he was surrounded by several more mannequins, all grabbing at him and pulling him away. He gasped and yelled out, even though he knew everyone else had left the shop hours ago.

"Who - who's that? Stop it!" he tired to call out, but his mouth was covered with a firm plastic hand, and his screams were muffled as the mannequins dragged his body away.

- - - - - - -

"Jamie, leave that alone!" Jackie shouted across the table, and Jamie dropped the rubber ball on the table obediently, only to pick it up again seconds later.

"Mum, can you pass the gravy?" asked Rose, pointing in the direction of the gravy boat.

"I want some chocolate!" Jamie called out, playing with the ball again.

"Jamie, just eat your dinner." Jackie told him, ignoring Rose's request.

"Dad, gravy?" she tried.

"Hold on love." Pete replied, turning back to the phone conversation. "What d'you mean, 'UNIT'll sort it'? Last time they dealt with a case, they blew up the Isle of White!"

"Pete, put that away at the table." Jackie ordered, ladling out peas onto Jamie's plate.

"Jamie," Rose attempted. "Can you give me the gravy?"

"I don't like peas!" Jamie was telling Jackie, who tactfully chose to ignore his protests.

"Well, Monday's too late." Pete was saying to whoever was on the other end of the phone. "I need to send -"

"Pete! Phone away, please!" Jackie told him again, and he covered the microphone momentarily to answer.

"Jacks, I'll just be a minute." he assured.

"Seriously, can I have some gravy?" Rose tried for the fourth time.

"Can I have some more mashed potato?" Jamie was now asking Jackie.

"No way. I can't -" Pete continued into the phone.

"Will someone pass us the gravy?" Rose spoke over him, her voice rising in volume.

"Pete, for God's sake -" Jackie insisted.

"Jacks, this is important!" Pete protested back.

"Mash potato!" Jamie yelled out.

"Shut it!" Rose suddenly yelled, rising to her feet with annoyance. The occupants of the table froze at her outburst, and she sat down slowly, breathing out calmly. "Thanks. Now can someone, please, pass me the gravy?"

Jackie tutted, leant over to Rose, and placed the gravy boat by her plate. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"Nothing!" Rose insisted, then paused. "It's just - It's not…forget it."

There was a brief silence, while Pete hung up the phone, Jamie picked at his food, and Jackie and Rose ate their meals silently.

"Dad," Rose started, looking up from her food. "Is there any more field work for us, at Torchwood?"

"Sorry love," Pete said bitterly, taking a sip of wine. "UNIT's decided they're takin' over."

"Good." Jackie muttered.

"What d'you mean, 'good'?" Rose asked edgily.

"I mean 'good'! I don't want you gettin' hurt like -" She broke off awkwardly and the table was silent again, before Pete spoke.

"Are you comin' to the company dinner on Tuesday?" he asked Rose conversationally, but Jackie answered for her.

"'Course she is! We all are!" she said, and Rose nodded in agreement, choosing not to argue.

"Who with?" This time, Jackie didn't answer for her, but looked at her expectantly, halfway through serving Jamie broccoli.

Rose shrugged. "Not sure yet." she lied, though she definitely had an idea of who to ask.

"Well, have you met Ianto yet?" Pete asked her, and she shook her head.

"Who?"

"Ianto Jones. He's replac- he's uh, gonna be on your team for a while." Rose looked up, startled, but choosing to ignore what was nearly said.

"Why? Me an' John are doin' fine."

"Oh, don't get me started on that John bloke." Jackie interrupted, deciding that this subject required her input. "I don't know what you were thinkin' Pete, putting that man with -"

"Mum, don't." Rose cut in warningly.

"But I'm just -"

"Just leave it!" she insisted, and Jackie silenced.

"Alright." she said quietly. "There's no need to yell. I don't know what's gotten into you lately."

Rose paused, stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork to distract herself. "I'm sorry."

"Mash potato!" Jamie said to end the conversation, and Jackie sighed.

"Yeah, yeah." she muttered, passing the dish of potato over to Pete, for him to dish out to Jamie.

Rose ate her dinner in silence for a few moments, contemplating whether or not she should really ask John to the company dinner.

'There's no harm in it.' she told herself. 'If he says yes - great. And if he asks what the hell is wrong with me, I'll just say I meant as work partners. Should be fine.' Her mind then drifted onto her food, what she'd wear to work tomorrow, and how Jamie managed to eat so much potato in such a short length of time, before settling once more on John.

"It's gotta be him." she said suddenly, and Jackie turned to look at her, confused.

"Who?"

"The Doctor! They're just…so alike." She considered. "And he's even got the Doctor's psychic paper."

"His what?" Jackie asked.

"His - never mind." Rose finished, not wanting to get into a technical conversation about 'slightly psychic paper'.

"Still," Jackie was arguing, using her fork to gesture. "If he is the Doctor, how come he don' think he is?"

"An' why's he only got one heart?" Pete added. "Says so in his medical file."

"An' how'd he get 'ere?" Jamie suddenly said through a mouthful of potato, and Rose turned to look at him, shocked.

"How d'you know what we're talkin' about?" she asked him.

"Mickey told me stories." he said proudly. "He said you used to travel with a doctor. He said you had a spaceship."

Rose smiled to herself. "He did, did he?"

Rose ate the rest of her meal in silence, with the sounds of her family's conversations merely the background noise to her thoughts. The voices became faded sounds, as she decided that John couldn't be the Doctor, and perhaps he was just ever so slightly psychic, or something.

- - - - - - -

Martha rushed into the TARDIS, out of breath but still running towards the console.

"It's gone." she told herself and the TARDIS breathlessly. "The fob watch - is gone." Collapsing onto the captain's chair, she caught her breath before looking up at the still central column.

"For the past month, John's kept it on a desk in his office. But…it's gone!" No one answered, and although she hadn't expected anyone to, Martha still felt let down by the machine. "He wouldn't move it. He doesn't even notice it!" she continued. "Oh my God, someone's taken it!" She leapt to her feet at the revelation, but the TARDIS made no recognition that she'd spoken.

"Talk to me!" she yelled. "Make a noise! Do something! You never shut up, what's wrong?"

She walked around the console, stroking the different parts of the machine gently. After a few moments, she stopped, and stepped back. "Well, if you're not gonna help, I might as well not bother." she told the TARDIS firmly, but her heart weakened as it produced a soft, almost unidentifiable, whirring sound.

"What is it?" she pleaded. "Are you…I dunno, sick?" The sound faded into the background, and Martha walked towards the door to the corridor, stopping briefly and turning back to address the room one last time before exiting.

"I'm gonna have to ask him." she decided. "Can I do that? Can I tell him?" There was silence, and Martha walked away resignedly.

- - - - - - -

"Do we have his scent?" the now sinister voice of Jeffrey Wilson rang out through the interior of the spaceship, more pristine and clear that the man's real voice.

The form of Helena Price moved silkily towards him. "No, Father of Mine." she said, her voice empty of any emotion or feeling. "But the Time Lord is still close. I feel him near."

Suzie Costello moved jaggedly to them in the green ambience of the ship. "You are forgetting that Son of Mine still craves a physical form."

"Tomorrow, Mother of Mine." Jeffrey's voice echoed harshly. "Tomorrow, we shall find Son of Mine a body. And the plan shall fall into place."

"How do we propose to find the Doctor?" the teenage girl asked, her voice lower and almost inhuman.

"We shall find his scent again." Jeffrey answered simply.

"This female, 'Suzie'." Suzie spoke the name with disgust. "She has befriended an Earth girl, 'Martha', who speaks of exploring the stars. Is it possible that the Time Lord has taken female form?"

Jeffrey's lips twisted up into an unnatural smirk. "We shall see. All will become clear soon enough."

"But Suzie has other memories, hidden away in her tiny mind. A 'Tyler' boy, too young to know otherwise, also spoke to her of the stars and the Doctor." she turned her head to one side with a sly smile. "His information could be valuble. A host for Son of Mine?"

"The child sounds suitable." Helena added.

"Then it is settled." Jeffrey said authoritatively. "Son of Mine shall have this boy's consciousness tomorrow." He turned to Suzie, the matter closed. "Is the army ready for battle?" he asked her.

"We have one hundred soldiers awaiting command." she informed him.

"Excellent." he replied, though his voice sounded anything but happy. "Then tomorrow, Son of Mine shall have a form. And the Family will be ready."

Ooh, spooky. :P Thanks for reading - I hope you enjoyed it! Review please! And one a side note, is that how you spell 'Jeffrey'?