Martha stopped breathing, shock causing her muscles to lose their strength and the arms that held her up were far from gentle.
"Scared of me now are you Miss Jones, now I'm healthy enough to resist your persuasions."
Martha trembled at the tone in the voice of someone she counted as a friend. It frightened her, the tone of his voice.
It was cold and full of hatred...hatred for her.
From somewhere she found the strength to resist his grip, but that made his hold even tighter, to the point of pain.
She found herself turned and slammed against her own car with bruising force, and for the first time she looked into the eyes of her assailant.
She knew what to expect, but it still took her by surprise. The tousled brown hair, the same pale complexion with a smattering of freckles. But that was where it ended.
All she could focus on were his eyes. Yes they were still that velvet chocolate colour, but that was it.
There was no gentleness, no sadness at the back of them. They were cold, full of spite and the potential for cruelty.
She swallowed hard and found her voice. "Doctor, it's good to see you, it's been a while."
The growl that answered her words silenced her. "Don't even speak to me. I know what you did me, and you have the gall to call yourself a doctor. Well your little plan didn't work, I'm still me, but you do owe me."
Martha's heart stopped as the Doctor weight pressed against her, and she tried to turn her head away but it was wrenched back.
The last time the Doctor had kissed her, back at Royal Hope, it had been unexpected and more than a little pleasurable...but not this kiss.
This kiss made her skin crawl and made fear rise in her gut. This kiss held something other than pleasure, for her at least.
As the kiss became more insistent and harder, her survival instinct kicked in and she brought her knee up, hard and fast, and shoved at the same time.
Not waiting to see if her attack had the desired effect, she bolted, heading for the main street.
She flinched when she heard her name roared out, but kept on running...she was dead if she didn't.
He really should have anticipated her reaction, but like a fool he let his baser side take control. He should have just killed her, not toyed with her first.
Trying not to focus on the pain radiating from his groin, he wiped the tears from his eyes and hauled himself up. He wasn't surprised to see that his little bird had flown.
"Martha Jones!" he roared, not caring if anyone heard him and set off in pursuit.
As he ran a thought ran through his head. Why had she called him Doctor, when she knew his real name?
He reached the corner of the street that joined onto Oxford Street, but could see no sign of her, his little bird was lost to the crowd of shoppers.
He stepped back, suddenly nervous of the crowds, unsure of whether to follow and try to find her in the crowds.
The decision was made for him when his phone rang...it was his rescuer and he wasn't happy.
"I take it the incident at St. Pancras was your doing, and don't lie to me. One of the staff saw you on the news bulletin. Come home now, it was a mistake to tell you to go."
For some reason he was riled by the tone of his voice and for the first time that he could recall, he disobeyed.
"No," he said.
There was few seconds delay on the other end of the phone.
"What do you mean no, you will come home now."
"No," he said and turned off his phone, dropping it to the floor.
White Coat scowled at the dead phone tone and threw his phone across his office. He pressed a button on his desk.
"Get me my Security Chief!" he roared.
He swallowed a few times, just to settle his stomach; he'd never defied him before.
That was another thing he was going to have to take up with him, another thing to add his reasons for revenge. All the nightmares he'd suffered about that night.
When he found him, and he would find him, he would make Captain Jack Harkness suffer before he killed him.