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daylight_darknightAnother chapter! Who'd have believed it. Not entirely happy with this one but I'm sick of editing it. Next chapter should be up much sooner because I started editing that one when I got stuck on this one.
Title: What Lies in Wait
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Martha, Mickey, 8th Doctor
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for swearing, violence, and scary stuff. Vague mentions of off screen torture.
Genre: Mystery, Angst
Word Count: This chapter 2,500 (Total 53,000)
Spoilers: Takes place after the Doctor Who episode Journey's End and after the 8th Doctor audio To the Death.
Summary: When Martha agreed to help Jack do a little inventory she wasn't expecting to find a Time Lord frozen in his basement and she certainly wasn't expecting what happened when they woke him up.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
If there was one thing Jack knew, it was how to make an entrance. Everyone's gaze was fixed on him as he slowly descended the curved stairway into the main part of the autopsy room. The Captain, however, only had eyes for the Doctor. The others stepped aside as Jack walked past them and finally came to a halt a few feet from the Time Lord.
“Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack said by way of introduction not bothering to offer his hand. They were a bit beyond handshakes by that point. “I'm the one in charge around here.”
“You're...” The Doctor's eyes squinted and his head tilted back as if looking at Jack was like looking into a bright light. “There's something not quite right about you.”
You're wrong. The voice of what would be the Doctor's future persona echoed in Jack's head. He put his hands in his pockets and stood there as if waiting for the inevitable, remaining composed despite the intense gaze the Doctor was scrutinizing him with.
“Time really doesn't like you,” The Time Lord continued, talking slowly as if trying to describe something their language didn't quite have the words for. “It's like you're a non-person, outside of time, apart from the universe. The winds of time swirl around you like mad but they can't get in. What on Earth happened to you?”
“It's a long story,” said Jack. “One which I can't actually tell you.” One of many things he couldn't tell him. There was something odd and somewhat unsettling about suddenly being in this position, knowing things the Doctor didn't. Usually, it was the Doctor who knew everything only informing others in bits and pieces when it was necessary or when he felt like it.
Understanding dawned on the Doctor's features. “Ah, so you're another friend I haven't met yet.”
Jack nodded. “I have that honour.”
“Strange to find myself surrounded by so many,” the Doctor said with clear skepticism, “in this place of all places.”
“I'd have thought you'd be used to strange,” Jack pointed out.
“True, but that doesn't mean I'm one to trust a coincidence.”
“I'm not sure I'd call it a coincidence but then I can't really go into detail about that either.”
“No, you can't. Not without risking the timelines. Very convenient.”
Seeing such distrust directed at him by someone he considered one of his closest friends was painful, but then, Jack thought, the Doctor hadn't trusted him before when Jack had first met him back on that faithful day during World War II, back when Jack was still a conman and the Doctor's trust was very much justified.
“You know the rules better than anyone,” Jack said.
“I suppose so,” The Doctor agreed. “Speaking of timelines. It's quite a set up you have here. I don't think I've ever seen such a mixture of technology especially not in this time period.”
“We do like to collect things.”
“Specializing in potentially dangerous alien artifacts, I see.”
“We help to keep them out of the wrong hands.”
“And you're the right hands?”
“I like to think so.”
The two stared at each other as if ready for a showdown, neither one willing to back down. Jack had a couple of inches of height on the Doctor, something he wasn't used to, but somehow, it still seemed as if the Doctor were taller. They stayed that way for a long moment, and then the Doctor suddenly clapped his hands together breaking the tension.
“Well, if you're the one in charge, then there are a couple things I'd like before we go any further.”
“Anything you want,” Jack said amiably.
“Firstly,” the Doctor said, “I'd like a cup of tea. Cryogenic stasis does tend to leave one parched.”
The corner of Jack's mouth twitched upward into a smile.
“Ianto,” he called out to the man who'd remained watching from the upper level.
“One cup of tea coming up,” Ianto replied before disappearing into the heart of the Hub.
“Milk. Two sugars,” the Doctor called after him. “You know you can tell a lot about people by the quality of their tea service.”
“I hope we don't disappoint,” said Jack. “Secondly?”
“Secondly,” the Doctor continued, his tone growing more serious, “I'd like an explanation. Why am I here? What happened to me?”
Jack sobered once more. “I wish I knew. All I can tell you is we found you down in our cold storage area under the label John Smith, 1927. We checked our records but they came up blank. It looks like whoever put you there didn't want you found.”
“Well, that's helpful.”
“Trust me, you're not the only one who wants to get to the bottom of this. Are you sure you don't remember anything else?”
Scowling, the Doctor crossed his arms across his chest, his eyes becoming distant again. “There is something, or maybe it's someone. It's on the tip of my hypothalamus but I can't...” He shook his head. “Hopefully, I'll remember more later.”
Jack frowned. “Cryogenic stasis doesn't usually cause memory loss.”
“No, it doesn't,” the Doctor agreed. “Something must have happened before I was put in stasis.”
Whatever it was, Jack had no doubt it hadn't been something good. The Doctor's shirt, still unbuttoned, left the marks of what had been done to him clearly visible.
“We'll figure it out,” Jack said, making the promise both to himself and the Doctor.
The Doctor gazed at him once more, his look calculating.
Apparently trust was not going to come any easier with this Doctor than it had with the old one. “Listen,” Jack said. “I know you have no reason to trust us especially after what Torchwood's done in the past but this isn't that Torchwood. This is my Torchwood, my team. In the future, you'll trust us and I hope you will now.”
“It doesn't seem as if I have much choice,” the Doctor said with a sigh.
Deciding to take what he could get, Jack nodded and glanced over at Martha who, along with Gwen and Mickey, had remained hovering nearby. “Then if you wouldn't mind, I really think Dr. Jones should check you over.”
“I suppose it couldn't hurt,” the Doctor agreed without enthusiasm.
“Good. Then while you do that the rest of us can go back into research mode,” said Jack already planning where to start.
“Don't worry, Doc,” Mickey said with confidence. “We'll get to the bottom of this.”
“That's good to hear,” the Doctor replied. “By the way,” he added just as Jack turned to leave.
The Captain turned back around and looked at him expectantly.
“I don't suppose you happen to know where my Tardis is?”
And things just kept getting more complicated. Jack grimaced. “Okay, so first we find the Tardis. Then we find out how the Doctor ended up in cold storage,” he declared. “Um, Doctor, you weren't travelling with anyone at the time were you? Because if you left someone back in 1927...”
A cloud seemed to fall over the Doctor's face. “No, I was travelling alone. That much I do remember.”
“Well, that's one less thing to worry about.” Turning again, Jack began making his way up the stairs. “Be nice to Martha, Doc,” he said as he left. “You might not know it yet but you owe her one.”
oooooo
Gwen and Mickey followed Jack out of the room and Martha suddenly found herself alone with the Doctor, the new Doctor. Or perhaps that should be the old Doctor, Martha wonder, or speaking technically the young Doctor. She felt unsure how to act. Technically, she knew this man was her friend, one of her best friends, but he didn't look like her Doctor and he didn't quite act like her Doctor either. She found herself searching for something familiar, something to latch onto, but even his eyes were different. He felt like a stranger to her and even worse was the fact that she was a complete stranger to him.
“He certainly seems to enjoy taking charge,” the Doctor observed interrupting her thoughts. “Your man Jack, I mean.”
“Yeah, he does that,” Martha replied. Deciding to fall back on her physician training once more, she patted the top of the autopsy table. “If you could hop up here please and take off your shirt.”
The Doctor removed his shirt and pushed himself up onto the table. He sat there silently watching her, another difference. Her Doctor was seldom so still. He would have been kicking his legs back and forth, eyes roving around the place like mad.
Martha picked up a scanner and began running it over the Doctor.
“I just hope this Captain Harkness knows what he's doing,” he said.
“Don't worry,” said Martha. “Jack's had a lot of experience.”
“What does UNIT think about all this? I haven't spent much time with them in this decade but it seems to me like Torchwood is in danger of stepping on their toes.”
“UNIT and Torchwood have a sort of understanding,” she said moving over to a nearby computer and inputting the data from the scanner. “I can't say they've always got along, but they usually manage to keep out of each others' way.”
“Hmm,” the Doctor hummed noncommittally.
Martha turned back to look at him. “You can trust him, you know. You'll be good friends one day.”
“Then I suppose I'll have to trust the judgement of my future self,” the Doctor replied. “With the exception of fashion, the judgement of my otherselves is usually reliable. All I know about him right now though is that he jangles rather painfully against my senses.” Wincing, he rubbed the side of his head.
“Is your head still hurting?” Martha asked.
“A bit,” he admitted.
“Want me to give you something for it?”
The Doctor shook his head. “No, thank you.”
Frowning, Martha turned to study the scanner data wishing for the hundredth time that the Doctor had lent her a book on Gallifreyan physiology. Everything seemed alright. Vitals were stable though in what she believed were the higher end of the normal range for him. She grabbed a stethoscope. It was a bit old fashioned in light of all the technology around her but sometimes old fashioned things were still the best. She was struck by a sudden sense of deja vu as she placed the drum of the stethoscope against the Doctor's chest and listened to the double beat of his hearts. This close to him she got a good look at his wounds. They appeared superficial but the sheer number was disturbing and they clearly had not had any treatment. Putting the stethoscope away, she traced her fingers along a gash near his collarbone trying to determine how deep it was.
“These look pretty nasty,” she said tentatively broaching the subject.
The Doctor looked down at his chest as if he hadn't realized the wounds were there. He grimaced as he ran a hand over a particularly long burn. “I've had worse.”
That didn't make Martha feel any better. “Do you remember how you got them?”
“Vaguely, yes,” he said. “Someone was angry, I think. Very angry.”
“It must be frustrating not being able to remember.”
“Unbelievably so,” the Doctor replied letting out a long breath. “The memories are there. I keep getting glimpses, impressions, but it's as if a storm's whipped through my mind leaving everything in chaos. Something happened, Dr. Jones, something bad.”
With that ominous thought they both grew silent, lost in thought, so lost that when a voice suddenly sounded behind them, they both jumped.
It was Ianto. “Your tea, sir,” he said as he descended the stairs towards them, cup and saucer balanced delicately in his hands.
“Thank you,” the Doctor said as he took the tea. “I must say the service here is very prompt.”
“Oh, I'm always at the ready when tea is required,” Ianto said giving his usual wiry smile.
The Doctor took a sip from the steaming cup and made a pleased noise in the back of his throat.
“This is excellent,” he said sounding surprised. “My compliments... uh... I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name.”
“Ianto Jones,” Ianto said with what may have been a tiny bow. “And no, we haven't met before.”
“Well, that makes one person,” observed the Doctor. He took another sip of tea. “This really is good.”
“You should try his coffee,” said Martha.
“I don't believe I've had tea this good since I shared a cup of Darjeeling with the Duchess of Bedford in 1841. What a horrible gossip she was. You should have heard the things she said about Queen Victoria. Now the tea I had with Emperor Shen Nong was another matter entirely...” He trailed off when he saw Martha's expression. “What?”
“Nothing,” Martha said unable to keep the smile from her face. It was just what he'd said, the way he'd said it, the expression on his face, his tone of voice. It was exactly like her Doctor. “It's just nice to see some things don't change.”
The Doctor frowned. “Like what?”
“Like you making up stories.”
“Make up stories? That's nonsense,” he sputtered. “I may exaggerate on occasion but I don't make up stories.”
Martha raised her eyebrows. “Really? If every story you told were true, you'd have met every famous person ever mentioned in a history book.”
“I haven't met every famous person. I've met quite a few that's true but not everyone.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Martha. “Who haven't you met?”
The Doctor paused as if he had to think about it a moment. “Charles Dickens,” he finally declared.
Martha snorted. “Not yet.”
“Well, I do get around a bit. I tend to run into a lot of people.”
“So you really are a close personal friend of Winston Churchill?”
“Of course, I am,” the Doctor insisted. “Though I never seem to be able to convince him to stop smoking those horrible cigars.”
Ianto looked confused. “The Winston Churchill?”
The Doctor and Martha shared a knowing smile.
Martha took the opportunity to look at the Doctor, really look at him. Now that he was awake she could see how worry had worn deep lines into his face, but his blue eyes still sparkled with life. There was an intensity there, an intensity and spirit that she'd only ever encountered in one person.
“You know I never said,” said Martha, “but it's really good to see you again.”
The Doctor smiled at her, his face so different but the expression on it similar enough to make her heart leap. “I think I'm going to enjoy becoming your friend, Martha Jones.”
Chapter 5
Title: What Lies in Wait
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Martha, Mickey, 8th Doctor
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for swearing, violence, and scary stuff. Vague mentions of off screen torture.
Genre: Mystery, Angst
Word Count: This chapter 2,500 (Total 53,000)
Spoilers: Takes place after the Doctor Who episode Journey's End and after the 8th Doctor audio To the Death.
Summary: When Martha agreed to help Jack do a little inventory she wasn't expecting to find a Time Lord frozen in his basement and she certainly wasn't expecting what happened when they woke him up.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
If there was one thing Jack knew, it was how to make an entrance. Everyone's gaze was fixed on him as he slowly descended the curved stairway into the main part of the autopsy room. The Captain, however, only had eyes for the Doctor. The others stepped aside as Jack walked past them and finally came to a halt a few feet from the Time Lord.
“Captain Jack Harkness,” Jack said by way of introduction not bothering to offer his hand. They were a bit beyond handshakes by that point. “I'm the one in charge around here.”
“You're...” The Doctor's eyes squinted and his head tilted back as if looking at Jack was like looking into a bright light. “There's something not quite right about you.”
You're wrong. The voice of what would be the Doctor's future persona echoed in Jack's head. He put his hands in his pockets and stood there as if waiting for the inevitable, remaining composed despite the intense gaze the Doctor was scrutinizing him with.
“Time really doesn't like you,” The Time Lord continued, talking slowly as if trying to describe something their language didn't quite have the words for. “It's like you're a non-person, outside of time, apart from the universe. The winds of time swirl around you like mad but they can't get in. What on Earth happened to you?”
“It's a long story,” said Jack. “One which I can't actually tell you.” One of many things he couldn't tell him. There was something odd and somewhat unsettling about suddenly being in this position, knowing things the Doctor didn't. Usually, it was the Doctor who knew everything only informing others in bits and pieces when it was necessary or when he felt like it.
Understanding dawned on the Doctor's features. “Ah, so you're another friend I haven't met yet.”
Jack nodded. “I have that honour.”
“Strange to find myself surrounded by so many,” the Doctor said with clear skepticism, “in this place of all places.”
“I'd have thought you'd be used to strange,” Jack pointed out.
“True, but that doesn't mean I'm one to trust a coincidence.”
“I'm not sure I'd call it a coincidence but then I can't really go into detail about that either.”
“No, you can't. Not without risking the timelines. Very convenient.”
Seeing such distrust directed at him by someone he considered one of his closest friends was painful, but then, Jack thought, the Doctor hadn't trusted him before when Jack had first met him back on that faithful day during World War II, back when Jack was still a conman and the Doctor's trust was very much justified.
“You know the rules better than anyone,” Jack said.
“I suppose so,” The Doctor agreed. “Speaking of timelines. It's quite a set up you have here. I don't think I've ever seen such a mixture of technology especially not in this time period.”
“We do like to collect things.”
“Specializing in potentially dangerous alien artifacts, I see.”
“We help to keep them out of the wrong hands.”
“And you're the right hands?”
“I like to think so.”
The two stared at each other as if ready for a showdown, neither one willing to back down. Jack had a couple of inches of height on the Doctor, something he wasn't used to, but somehow, it still seemed as if the Doctor were taller. They stayed that way for a long moment, and then the Doctor suddenly clapped his hands together breaking the tension.
“Well, if you're the one in charge, then there are a couple things I'd like before we go any further.”
“Anything you want,” Jack said amiably.
“Firstly,” the Doctor said, “I'd like a cup of tea. Cryogenic stasis does tend to leave one parched.”
The corner of Jack's mouth twitched upward into a smile.
“Ianto,” he called out to the man who'd remained watching from the upper level.
“One cup of tea coming up,” Ianto replied before disappearing into the heart of the Hub.
“Milk. Two sugars,” the Doctor called after him. “You know you can tell a lot about people by the quality of their tea service.”
“I hope we don't disappoint,” said Jack. “Secondly?”
“Secondly,” the Doctor continued, his tone growing more serious, “I'd like an explanation. Why am I here? What happened to me?”
Jack sobered once more. “I wish I knew. All I can tell you is we found you down in our cold storage area under the label John Smith, 1927. We checked our records but they came up blank. It looks like whoever put you there didn't want you found.”
“Well, that's helpful.”
“Trust me, you're not the only one who wants to get to the bottom of this. Are you sure you don't remember anything else?”
Scowling, the Doctor crossed his arms across his chest, his eyes becoming distant again. “There is something, or maybe it's someone. It's on the tip of my hypothalamus but I can't...” He shook his head. “Hopefully, I'll remember more later.”
Jack frowned. “Cryogenic stasis doesn't usually cause memory loss.”
“No, it doesn't,” the Doctor agreed. “Something must have happened before I was put in stasis.”
Whatever it was, Jack had no doubt it hadn't been something good. The Doctor's shirt, still unbuttoned, left the marks of what had been done to him clearly visible.
“We'll figure it out,” Jack said, making the promise both to himself and the Doctor.
The Doctor gazed at him once more, his look calculating.
Apparently trust was not going to come any easier with this Doctor than it had with the old one. “Listen,” Jack said. “I know you have no reason to trust us especially after what Torchwood's done in the past but this isn't that Torchwood. This is my Torchwood, my team. In the future, you'll trust us and I hope you will now.”
“It doesn't seem as if I have much choice,” the Doctor said with a sigh.
Deciding to take what he could get, Jack nodded and glanced over at Martha who, along with Gwen and Mickey, had remained hovering nearby. “Then if you wouldn't mind, I really think Dr. Jones should check you over.”
“I suppose it couldn't hurt,” the Doctor agreed without enthusiasm.
“Good. Then while you do that the rest of us can go back into research mode,” said Jack already planning where to start.
“Don't worry, Doc,” Mickey said with confidence. “We'll get to the bottom of this.”
“That's good to hear,” the Doctor replied. “By the way,” he added just as Jack turned to leave.
The Captain turned back around and looked at him expectantly.
“I don't suppose you happen to know where my Tardis is?”
And things just kept getting more complicated. Jack grimaced. “Okay, so first we find the Tardis. Then we find out how the Doctor ended up in cold storage,” he declared. “Um, Doctor, you weren't travelling with anyone at the time were you? Because if you left someone back in 1927...”
A cloud seemed to fall over the Doctor's face. “No, I was travelling alone. That much I do remember.”
“Well, that's one less thing to worry about.” Turning again, Jack began making his way up the stairs. “Be nice to Martha, Doc,” he said as he left. “You might not know it yet but you owe her one.”
Gwen and Mickey followed Jack out of the room and Martha suddenly found herself alone with the Doctor, the new Doctor. Or perhaps that should be the old Doctor, Martha wonder, or speaking technically the young Doctor. She felt unsure how to act. Technically, she knew this man was her friend, one of her best friends, but he didn't look like her Doctor and he didn't quite act like her Doctor either. She found herself searching for something familiar, something to latch onto, but even his eyes were different. He felt like a stranger to her and even worse was the fact that she was a complete stranger to him.
“He certainly seems to enjoy taking charge,” the Doctor observed interrupting her thoughts. “Your man Jack, I mean.”
“Yeah, he does that,” Martha replied. Deciding to fall back on her physician training once more, she patted the top of the autopsy table. “If you could hop up here please and take off your shirt.”
The Doctor removed his shirt and pushed himself up onto the table. He sat there silently watching her, another difference. Her Doctor was seldom so still. He would have been kicking his legs back and forth, eyes roving around the place like mad.
Martha picked up a scanner and began running it over the Doctor.
“I just hope this Captain Harkness knows what he's doing,” he said.
“Don't worry,” said Martha. “Jack's had a lot of experience.”
“What does UNIT think about all this? I haven't spent much time with them in this decade but it seems to me like Torchwood is in danger of stepping on their toes.”
“UNIT and Torchwood have a sort of understanding,” she said moving over to a nearby computer and inputting the data from the scanner. “I can't say they've always got along, but they usually manage to keep out of each others' way.”
“Hmm,” the Doctor hummed noncommittally.
Martha turned back to look at him. “You can trust him, you know. You'll be good friends one day.”
“Then I suppose I'll have to trust the judgement of my future self,” the Doctor replied. “With the exception of fashion, the judgement of my otherselves is usually reliable. All I know about him right now though is that he jangles rather painfully against my senses.” Wincing, he rubbed the side of his head.
“Is your head still hurting?” Martha asked.
“A bit,” he admitted.
“Want me to give you something for it?”
The Doctor shook his head. “No, thank you.”
Frowning, Martha turned to study the scanner data wishing for the hundredth time that the Doctor had lent her a book on Gallifreyan physiology. Everything seemed alright. Vitals were stable though in what she believed were the higher end of the normal range for him. She grabbed a stethoscope. It was a bit old fashioned in light of all the technology around her but sometimes old fashioned things were still the best. She was struck by a sudden sense of deja vu as she placed the drum of the stethoscope against the Doctor's chest and listened to the double beat of his hearts. This close to him she got a good look at his wounds. They appeared superficial but the sheer number was disturbing and they clearly had not had any treatment. Putting the stethoscope away, she traced her fingers along a gash near his collarbone trying to determine how deep it was.
“These look pretty nasty,” she said tentatively broaching the subject.
The Doctor looked down at his chest as if he hadn't realized the wounds were there. He grimaced as he ran a hand over a particularly long burn. “I've had worse.”
That didn't make Martha feel any better. “Do you remember how you got them?”
“Vaguely, yes,” he said. “Someone was angry, I think. Very angry.”
“It must be frustrating not being able to remember.”
“Unbelievably so,” the Doctor replied letting out a long breath. “The memories are there. I keep getting glimpses, impressions, but it's as if a storm's whipped through my mind leaving everything in chaos. Something happened, Dr. Jones, something bad.”
With that ominous thought they both grew silent, lost in thought, so lost that when a voice suddenly sounded behind them, they both jumped.
It was Ianto. “Your tea, sir,” he said as he descended the stairs towards them, cup and saucer balanced delicately in his hands.
“Thank you,” the Doctor said as he took the tea. “I must say the service here is very prompt.”
“Oh, I'm always at the ready when tea is required,” Ianto said giving his usual wiry smile.
The Doctor took a sip from the steaming cup and made a pleased noise in the back of his throat.
“This is excellent,” he said sounding surprised. “My compliments... uh... I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name.”
“Ianto Jones,” Ianto said with what may have been a tiny bow. “And no, we haven't met before.”
“Well, that makes one person,” observed the Doctor. He took another sip of tea. “This really is good.”
“You should try his coffee,” said Martha.
“I don't believe I've had tea this good since I shared a cup of Darjeeling with the Duchess of Bedford in 1841. What a horrible gossip she was. You should have heard the things she said about Queen Victoria. Now the tea I had with Emperor Shen Nong was another matter entirely...” He trailed off when he saw Martha's expression. “What?”
“Nothing,” Martha said unable to keep the smile from her face. It was just what he'd said, the way he'd said it, the expression on his face, his tone of voice. It was exactly like her Doctor. “It's just nice to see some things don't change.”
The Doctor frowned. “Like what?”
“Like you making up stories.”
“Make up stories? That's nonsense,” he sputtered. “I may exaggerate on occasion but I don't make up stories.”
Martha raised her eyebrows. “Really? If every story you told were true, you'd have met every famous person ever mentioned in a history book.”
“I haven't met every famous person. I've met quite a few that's true but not everyone.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Martha. “Who haven't you met?”
The Doctor paused as if he had to think about it a moment. “Charles Dickens,” he finally declared.
Martha snorted. “Not yet.”
“Well, I do get around a bit. I tend to run into a lot of people.”
“So you really are a close personal friend of Winston Churchill?”
“Of course, I am,” the Doctor insisted. “Though I never seem to be able to convince him to stop smoking those horrible cigars.”
Ianto looked confused. “The Winston Churchill?”
The Doctor and Martha shared a knowing smile.
Martha took the opportunity to look at the Doctor, really look at him. Now that he was awake she could see how worry had worn deep lines into his face, but his blue eyes still sparkled with life. There was an intensity there, an intensity and spirit that she'd only ever encountered in one person.
“You know I never said,” said Martha, “but it's really good to see you again.”
The Doctor smiled at her, his face so different but the expression on it similar enough to make her heart leap. “I think I'm going to enjoy becoming your friend, Martha Jones.”
Chapter 5
