Chapter Text
"Doctor!" Martha exclaimed, bounding up to the tall alien and throwing her arms around him in a hug. The Doctor had to admit, Martha gave the best hugs, always tight, with that little extra squeeze just before she let go. She looked at him from head to toe, and the Doctor very much felt like she was evaluating him, trying to see if he was injured or dying. No such luck, though. "What brings you here?"
"Well," the Doctor, said, looking around quickly, trying to answer that very question. Where was he? He'd been in and booted out of the TARDIS so fast he barely had time to register what was going on. "It's a lovely day, had nothing to do, so I thought, why not visit my favorite Doctor, eh, Martha Jones?"
Martha crossed her ams over her chest and looked right up an him with a raised eyebrow. She met his easy, toothy grin with a light giggle. "Nice try, Doctor. I've known you for a few years now, you've never made a social visit before."
"Ooh, are those scans of Silurian DNA?" He sidetracked, putting on his brainy specs and studying the scans up on a lit screen in what he presumed was Martha's office. Not that he knew where Martha was working. "Brilliant race, Silurians. Did you know they were one of the first inhabitants of Earth? Well, I say one of the first, because obviously the Racnoss were here when the Earth itself was formed, but--"
Then he noticed that Martha was looking at him like she didn't believe a word he was saying. He forgot he didn't have that power over her anymore. Kind of sad, really.
"Did Donna kick you out of the TARDIS?" She asked him gently, already going to a tea trolley beside he door to make the Doctor a cuppa.
"No! Really Martha Jones, the idea that Donna could kick me out of my own...I was the one who...yes, yes she did," he concluded, running a hand over his chin in frustration. He had no idea when the TARDIS had swayed over to Donna's side, but one word from her, and he'd been properly dumped on Martha's lap. So he might have forgotten to tell her that the might have accidentally married Queen Elizabeth once. Was that a big deal?
Apparently, to Donna, yes. Especially when they were having quite a nice date in Elizabethan England before they were sentenced to death for his adultery. But he had gotten them out of that!
Martha politely handed him the teacup, sitting in the guest chair on front of her desk, looking over at the Doctor while he sat on Martha's chair, his plimsolls crossed on top of the desk as he frowned.
"Having a bit of a domestic, are we?" She joked, sipping her tea and looking surreptitiously over at him.
The Doctor frowned slightly. When Martha traveled with him, he always seemed to forget to look at her. Of course she meant the world to him, the way she believed in him, the way she put up with him, with all of him...and the Doctor just didn't see her. He knew she was brilliant, knew she was brave and clever, but still. He'd managed to miss Martha Jones in ways he vowed never to again. In that little quip he saw her eyes flinch, something sting inside her. Unintentional as it was, it was there.
"Yes, well..." He said, sipping his tea like he was trying to mimic Martha. Mmm, eight sugars, just the way he liked it. Did she always know how he liked his tea?
"It's alright Doctor, you can tell me," she said, laughing lightly, crossing one leg over the other as she watched him. She genuinely wanted to know, to help him. That was what she did, as a companion. Was that all she ever was? "I could use the break."
"Nah, it'll fix itself," the Doctor said, waving his hand to dismiss the conversation entirely. He took his feet off the desk and walked over to the window. Oooh, they were in New York! How nice. "No Daleks this time, eh?" He asked, nudging his head out the window, where Martha got quite he view of the Empire State Building.
"No, none whatsoever," she said, sighing and swivelling the chair around to look at him. His gaze quickly swept around the room. There were several photographs, of Martha and her family (looking happily into the camera like he hadn't taken away a whole year of their life), a sweet photo of Mickey Smith kissing her on the cheek (which, ew), even one of Martha with the Torchwood team in Cardiff. On Martha's desk, in a place of honoUr, the TARDIS key was placed in a shadowbox, still in its chain. The Doctor felt his hearts constrict at the sight of it. He'd always felt that Martha was the strongest of companions, choosing to leave like she did. At first he'd been angry at her, walking away because of a silly thing like love...but now...he realised that it had been much harder for her to leave him behind, knowing how much he needed someone.
Martha noticed his shoulders were slumped, his body cast in shadow as he looked out into the beautiful view. He had put himself in a mood. God, Martha did not miss the mood swings.
"I never apologized, have I?" The Doctor asked, turning to her, his eyes dark. "For everything."
That one word said more than either of them could have said. But Martha, charity Martha as Donna had first called her, only smiled.
"I did it all because I believe in you, Doctor," she said, the first time he saw her smile waver, the steel exterior of her easy smile crack. Martha was always the soldiering on type. "It didn't matter how much it...it hurt. You are worth it."
The Doctor looked down at his shoes, for once hit by a wave of humility. "John Smith," he said, apropos to nothing. Only Martha would know which John he was talking about. "He's still me, isn't he? Somewhere inside...I am him, even a little bit?"
Somehow Martha knew what he was trying to ask her. In 1913, John Smith was a man in love, a man who could smile and just let himself fall freely, headfirst over a woman who just...dazzled him. On that front, Joan Redfern had been right. John was a braver man than the Doctor. He had given his heart so freely, willing to die of it meant saving the ones he loved.
Now that Donna was there, the Doctor wanted to know if he could be that man for her.
"No," Martha said, shaking her head. "Definitely not. I like you Doctor, but as a human...you were pretty rubbish. I actually feel a bit bad for Rose, left with the human you. Hopefully he'll have a bit more Donna in him," she joked, and although she didn't miss the flicker of guilt and pain in his eyes, Martha learned not to think anything more of it. One joke wasn't going to collapse their entire friendship. Because that was what it was, wasn't it? Martha Jones, the Doctor's doctor. Nothing more. "But you are much more than John Smith. You would burn stars, cross galaxies and save worlds for the people you love. Nobody else could, which is why the people you love aren't afraid to stand up for you." Martha put aside her teacup. She could hear the TARDIS materialising in the office anteroom, and she knew her time was up. Standing up, she kissed the Doctor's cheek as the TARDIS door wordlessly swung open, with Donna frowning deeply on the other side.
"Go on get her, tiger," Martha joked, punching the Doctor's arm playfully as she nudged her head towards the blue box. "Give me a proper visit next time, would you? Maybe June 12, around ten-ish? I'll need your RSVP for my wedding."
This time, the Doctor actually smiled at her, beaming. There she was. All this time, and Martha was still Martha, fixing him up without asking for anything in return.
"Doctor Martha Smith Jones," he said, testing the name on his tongue (because of course she was going to keep her name). "Sounds about right."
Then, with one last smile and a quick hug from Donna, the TARDIS dematerialised.