Testing, testing…

With any luck, the last round would be /in/ him, not on. Without reaching, Martha shifted so that she could feel her holster at her hip, just a reminder of her safety. She began to walk, with or without him, towards the pub, all the while praying that no one of importance alerted her phone. “So why are you following me?” The young woman asked as she pushed though the doors of the tavern. She hadn’t ever been given an answer to this question, and it was beginning to annoy her. 

Shocked, Martha stared up at the man with wide eyes… this great man whom had been her everything… this great man who was still her everything… Was that what made this all so hard? She shook her head, her gaze finding the floor, “That’s not it…” She bit her lip, “I don’t mean for it to— Doctor, I’m grateful…” Why wouldn’t she be? He’d saved her from the clutches of ultimate revenge itself… and Mickey… Mickey wouldn’t even be alive if it had’t been for him.

Alright, that had been a lie.

Martha knew exactly why everyone thought the Doctor was so wonderful… it was plain and simply, because he was. Even she believed it. That was why she had grown so attached to the man in the short span time that she had traveled with him— and why in turn, his lack of returned feelings for her had been so… incredibly painful.

“I don’t—” She shrugged, turning solemnly to her friend, “…nevermind. I’m… Just a bit off after the thing with the Cybermen yesterday. Sorry, Rose.” Martha looked genuinely apologetic.

Alright, that had been a lie.

Martha knew exactly why everyone thought the Doctor was so wonderful… it was plain and simply, because he was. Even she believed it. That was why she had grown so attached to the man in the short span time that she had traveled with him— and why in turn, his lack of returned feelings for her had been so… incredibly painful.

“I don’t— nevermind. I’m… Just a bit off after the thing with the Cybermen yesterday. Sorry, Rose.” She looked genuinely apologetic.

How was it that she was always better? To the Doctor. To Jack. To Sol 3, no doubt…

Martha frowned, picking up a peice of chicken with her chipsticks and looking back at the television, of course, set to BBC’s news. Mickey, even? Her husband had dated Rose before even the two of them had even met. It was the Doctor alone that had torn them apart… “Nevermind.” Her voice was small.

How was it that she was always better? To the Doctor. To Jack. To Sol 3, no doubt…

Martha frowned, picking up a peice of chicken with her chipsticks and looking back at the television, of course, set to BBC’s news. Mickey, even? Her husband had dated Rose before even the two of them had even met. It was the Doctor alone that had torn them apart… “Nevermind.” Her voice was small.

Of course he left immediately. Why wouldn’t he? Job well done, Doctor.

Martha was about to speak, and out of spite even, when the Time Lord returned to their conversation, and began to flit about the controls of his spaceship… /Like old times…/ she reached for something to hold on to, unable to help but smile… though her smile was an almost sad one, “To Manhattan.” She repeated.

Of course he left immediately. Why wouldn’t he? Job well done, Doctor.

Martha was about to speak, and out of spite even, when the Time Lord returned to their conversation, and began to flit about the controls of his spaceship… /Like old times…/ she reached for something to hold on to, unable to help but smile… though her smile was an almost sad one, “To Manhattan.” She repeated.

“Doctor…” Martha returned the embrace, feeling almost instantly more calm. How the man had that effect on EVERYONE was and probably always would be a great mystery, but it was… comforting. “I missed you.”