The Marmalade Ban of 2009
okay guys, i am MAJORLY sorry about the lack of updates recently. with illness, summer holidays
and start-of-uni chaos, there simply hasn't been any time for writing. spesh since i sorta hit writer's
block as well, for the first time in a long time. but here it is, the start of gridlock. hope you guys
enjoy it, and remember to keep hitting me reviews with baby names, still no closer to deciding!!
The Doctor sat up in Rose's bed - actually, it was now their bed - watching her get ready for the night, flitting in and out of bathrooms, grabbing nightclothes and dumping the ones she'd worn this morning on the floor sloppily. They added to the décor, she would argue if he brought it up, and he had to agree. She had made the place very messy, with mugs, make-up, clothes and magazines littering the floor and every available surface. Putting the clothes away would seem like asking J.K Rowling to sign Lord of the Rings. At a book signing for Harry Potter. In other words, inappropriate.
"I have an idea," he announced, and Rose poked her head around the door to the bathroom, which was en-suite to their bedroom. God, she took a long time to get ready, even when they were just going to sleep.
"What?" she mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste, before she raised her index finger, turned and spat it out in the sink and washed her mouth. "What is your idea?" she asked again, this time much more clearly. She walked back to the bedroom, and plonked herself down on the bed. She shivered; she was only wearing a tank top and some pyjama bottoms, and she felt rather cold.
"New Earth," the Doctor said, and Rose nodded.
"What about New Earth?" she said, motioning with her hands that he should elaborate.
"We should take Martha to New Earth. Let her meet the lovely cat people."
Rose beamed so brightly the Doctor swore that her mouth should have split in two; she reached up and kissed his right cheek. "I think that's a perfect idea," she said, before burrowing under the covers so only her eyes were visible above the duvet. Much warmer. "As long as there isn't any more Cassandra's running around." her voice was muffled from the duvet, but was loud enough that the Doctor heard her.
He looked down at her fondly, ruffling the small patch of blonde-brown hair (well, she did need to keep on top of her roots, and zooming around the universe made finding the time to dye your hair near impossible) before sliding down so he was lying on the bed, eyes level with Rose's. "Please. I do not need you and Martha possessed. You alone, possessed, is a dangerous weapon, let me tell you," he said, reaching up and pressing a kiss to the only slice of Rose's skin he could see, which was her forehead.
"Dangerous? Me? Like what? I can barely remember, being possessed and all," Rose said, her curiosity winning over the low temperature as she pulled the duvet back slightly, revealing her bare shoulders.
"You had that spray stuff. Knocked me unconscious. And then you snogged me … "
"Did I?" Rose said nonchalantly, looking at her fingernails.
The Doctor frowned, before his eyes widened. "Did you … ?" he said, trailing off. Rose looked up at him, her face the picture of innocence.
"Might've," Rose said, and the Doctor raised one eyebrow at her. Rose sighed. "Well, I thought I was dying, wasn't I? What would you think if you were being possessed? Actually, it was more like drifting in and out of conciousness, really … but I sorta jolted back for a moment, and you were there, looking at me, so I just thought 'damn it, if this is my last moment then I better live it', y'know?" she said, her cheeks turning the colour of her namesake.
The Doctor laughed. "Did you ever think about telling me this earlier?"
Rose responded by slugging him on the arm; he winced, rubbing the spot. Although the punches weren't sore, they always managed to hit the same spot. He stuck his tongue out her childishly, before turning around so his back was facing her, acting upset that, firstly, she'd snogged him and then said it was Cassandra (he knew that their situation now was very different from when they had gone to New Earth, but he refused to let that stand as an excuse) and secondly, then proceeded to punch him for something which was no fault of his own.
"Oi," Rose said, poking him in the back; he jerked away from her hand, but other than that he never made any movement to say he acknowledged her. Rose sighed. "I thought it was this one," she pointed her stomach, "that was supposed to be having tantrums, not you?" she posed it as a question, but did not get any answer. "Fine," she huffed, after poking him in the back a few more times and still nothing. She turned away, her back facing his back.
She only had to wait less than ten seconds until she heard him shifting behind her, before she felt him kiss her bare shoulder and his left arm wrap around her stomach.
"Could you actually ever stay mad at me?" Rose said, cuddling into him so her back was against his chest, her head under his chin.
He kissed her shoulder again, and she felt him smile against her skin. "I wasn't mad at you. I never could be. Unless, oh, I dunno ... you say that you'll never make me a cup of tea ever again or ban me from buying marmalade."
Rose grinned, although he couldn't see it, and turned around in his embrace until she was staring into his chocolate eyes. She smiled. "You can never buy marmalade again," she breathed, before he smiled, catching her lips in a passionate kiss.
The TARDIS quickly made Martha's bedroom door soundproof.
Martha, meanwhile, was sitting on the bed in the room Rose had shown her to - it wasn't her room, she was only staying the night - thinking about her life.
Quite an interesting topic, it happens to be, one Martha Jones' life. Well, if she was being honest, it was a boring topic until around two nights previously. She'd lived her life as normal, gone to school, got her GCSE's, got straight A's in A-Level, went off to medical school, which is where things got interesting.
She met the mysterious couple on what was supposed to be a routine check-up on the patients and the chance for Stoker to give the students a impromptu quiz. The two were weird from the off, with the man talking about meeting Benjamin Franklin and his partner acting as if he was telling them about his friend Ben.
Then they went to the moon and the twosome saved the world. They took Martha to 1599 and they saved the world there, too. Is that what they did, as jobs? Saved the world? They must be on a huge salary if they do it for the government, Martha decided.
She coughed; her throat was awfully dry. As if by magic, a glass of water appeared on the bedside table. It was cool to the touch, the glass slightly frosted; it looked and felt like it had just been removed from a fridge. Martha glanced up at the ceiling. Earlier, while showing Martha to her room, Rose had called the ship many things - magical, wonderful, telepathic. She was sure of the last one. Martha had done a double take, but Rose didn't even blink.
Martha gulped at the water gratefully, downing the whole glass in three gulps. She winced at the coolness but was also relieved as her throat was soothed.
She wanted to go and explore. Rose had said the ship was massive - and once you got past the small blue box part, it wasn't hard to believe. She would have loved to have gone exploring this colossal ship, but her body was begging for sleep, and she was using up all her energy just keeping her eyes open. It had been straight to 1599's England after they picked her up from the pub, the same day as the hospital drama - she hadn't had any time to recover from the oxygen deprivation or the sheer madness of the day. She picked up the pyjamas Rose had kindly lent her, changed quickly, and slid under the covers, which were surprisingly warm for a hardly-ever-used spare bed, and was asleep within seconds.
Blinking against the darkness, the Doctor realised he'd fallen asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by the warmth of Rose's body next to his and the rhythm of her single heart beating in time with his two. His eyes flickered open, blinking once, twice, three times against the dark, hanging over them like a thick blanket.
The warmth on his right told him Rose was still in bed, light snores coming from her direction.
A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearly seven am. He couldn't believe he'd slept quite that long - he'd obviously been overdue a sleep, or maybe it was the human part of him coming out, but he'd found he'd been getting more tired easily and needed sleep a lot more often than he was used to.
He sat up, rubbing the last ting of sleep from his eyes, noticing a smell. He needed a shower, desperately, he still stank of 1599. Not exactly a nice smell to smell of. Really, he'd rather smell of any other year than 1599. Maybe not 1066, though.
He made to get up out of bed, before leaning over and kissing Rose's shoulder; she responded only by snuggling deeper into the duvet, making it clear that she wasn't getting up anytime soon.
The shower helped, relaxing him and getting that awful stench out.
He changed quickly back into his well-worn suit, pulling on his converse before padding softly out of the room, closing the door with a barely-audible click. He wandered down the hall to the kitchen, noticing there was already a light shining from under the door.
It took him a few moments filled with panic to remember that they'd invited Martha on board last night. He smiled, pushing open the door to Martha's slightly wide eyes and the aroma of coffee hanging in the air.
"Morning," he said, taking in Martha's slightly rumpled but glamorous appearance at seven in the morning - she was wearing the party clothes she had came in last night, having no time to pick up any others.
"Morning," Martha replied softly, voice slightly hoarse with sleep. "I hope you don't mind I made myself some coffee." She gestured to her half-full mug.
"Not at all," the Doctor said, boiling the kettle and placing a teabag in the mug. He noticed Martha's inquiring look.
"There's coffee in the pot," she said, nodding to it.
He pointed to the teabag. "I don't like coffee," he said, filling up the mug with the steaming water. He put two slices of bread in the toaster and turned to Martha. "Want some?"
"Please."
They waited in silence until the toast popped. The Doctor put it on a clean plate and slid it into the centre of the table, fishing out a jar of marmalade from the cupboard. Martha was slathering butter on her toast by the time he sat down.
"The butter isn't going anywhere, y'know," he said, amused.
"Haha," Martha said, sarcasm dripping as much as could be at seven am. "I like a lot of butter on toast." She raised her eyebrow at the end of the statement.
They ate in silence for moment, the only sound the crunch of toast and the occasional sip of tea or coffee.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Martha's slightly hesitant voice threw the Doctor off guard for a moment. For the whole day-and-a half - maybe two days - he'd known her, she'd always been firm in her questions. Never had he heard her so unsure about her voice or what she was saying.
"Go ahead," he said, leaning back in his chair and bracing himself. She had an inquisitive mind, not unlike Rose's, but Rose was quite gentle with her probing, while Martha had a slightly blunt nature. He really hoped she wasn't, but he rather expected her to, going to ask him something to do with Gallifrey.
"How did you and Rose meet?"
He breathed an internal sigh of relief. He wasn't ready to tell Martha about Gallifrey yet. He smiled at Martha, who gave a small smile back, still unsure as to whether or not he would answer the question.
He took a deep breath as if to start a story that lasted several years. "It was about three years ago, now, wait … three years, two months, eight days, five and a half hours, and thirteen minutes. I won't count the seconds," he laughed, as Martha as giggled hesitantly, still a little weirded out by his exact timekeeping.
"We met in the shop she worked it. It was a Tuesday," he continued, Martha listening raptly. "The shop was being taken over by shop window dummies. Rose got cornered by one or ten, and I had to go in and save her - and I did it with just one word."
"How very macho."
"Thank you! At least one person seems to think so," the Doctor said, playing on Martha's sarcasm. "And then I blew her work up."
Martha's jaw dropped. "You blew her work up?"
"Yeah."
"You. Blew. Her. Work. Up?!"
"Yes!" The Doctor said, exasperated. "She worked in Henricks."
"No!" Martha looked even more shocked. "You were behind Henricks? My sister Tish was in Henricks the day it blew up. Just got out, as well, before it went up in flames! They said it was arson, as well … but you? Really?"
"Him. Really."
The new, slightly scratchy voice made both the Doctor and Martha's heads turn to the door, where Rose was standing, grinning at the tale.
"I have to say, you don't seem the type to blow things up," Martha said, taking a sip of coffee as Rose poured herself a a decaf one, having had a ten minute lecture by the Doctor then a fifteen minute one by her mother about the effects of caffeine on the baby. The lectures, although boring, were making a strong and valid point so Rose was going decaf for the next few months.
"Excuse me, new man. Was back then," the Doctor argued, sticking his tongue out childishly.
Rose repeated the action back to him as she sat down beside him, swiping a slice of jammy toast from his plate, the Doctor letting out an indignant "Oi!" at the toast thief.
"What do you mean 'new man?'" Martha said, one dark eyebrow raised.
"He's changed a lot over the past three years. We call him a 'new man' because he's so different from when I first met him," Rose lied smoothly, the Doctor nodding along but silently impressed with Rose's quick lying. Rose hated lying to Martha - she hated lying full stop - but Martha wasn't quite ready to know all the truths about their life yet. She was a flying visitor, two stops and then home again. As much as Rose had become attached to Martha, it was the best thing for them. Better with two.
"Oh, really?" Martha said, slightly distant. She couldn't imagine the Doctor being anything but the bouncy, energetic man she knew.
"Oh, yeah. Think 'emo'," Rose said, raising her eyebrows. Martha responded with her eyebrows raised and soon the two girls were in fits.
"Y'know, I really hope the baby is a boy. Since Jack left we really need a masculine influence around here. Testosterone, that is what this place needs, a good dose of testosterone. I'm been ganged up upon. You and Sarah-Jane, you and Donna, and now you two."
His comments were drowned out by the laughter, not even heard by the two females.
"Right-o. I have the perfect place to take you, Martha Jones," the Doctor said, dancing around the console. Martha and Rose had gone and washed up after breakfast, Rose wearing a simple pink top and jeans, while Martha still had the jeans on from three nights ago but had borrowed a purple top of Rose's to wear with her leather jacket.
Martha looked positively delighted.
"It's pretty amazing," Rose said, beaming. "We've been before."
"Really? What's it like?"
Rose beamed at Martha's eagerness. "Oh, no, you'll just have to wait and see." She said, wagging her finger as the Doctor pressed his buttons and turned his levers, throwing all the occupants to the floor, as usual.
"Everyone in one piece?" the Doctor called.
"Yeah," Martha said, faintly as she used a support strut to pull herself up.
"I'm here," Rose said, using the Doctor to hoist herself up and dusted herself off before looking at the doors.
"Yo go," Rose said, nodding to Martha, who practically squealed with excitement as she ran to the doors.
"Martha Jones, I give you, New Earth!" the Doctor said triumphantly as Martha walked out the TARDIS doors . . .
. . . and into the pouring rain.