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The shower in the TARDIS was always a perfect temperature. Of all the wonders in time and space, she wasn't sure even this mundane one would ever cease to amaze her. There was no waiting for the water to heat, or fiddling with the dials to get it right, it was just… perfect.
Martha spent a long time in the shower, and let herself unwind. She needed it, after a long day of sewers and dust and climbing the empire state building. It was amazing how much better she felt afterwards.
She also needed sleep… desperately. She must've been up for… almost 36 hours, by this point. Martha was exhausted. She dimmed the lights and flopped down on the bed.
Next thing she knew, a distant clatter woke her. She sat up slowly rubbing her eyes, and looked at the clock. It had only been a couple hours since she'd fallen asleep; she was sure she needed more sleep than that. And she wasn't a particularly light sleeper, so why was she awake?
Looking around the room, Martha realized the lights were back on. That was… weird. It was evening in the TARDIS’ cycle, and the TARDIS never turned her lights on while she was sleeping.
Well, she was parched anyway. She could've swore she had a cup in here, but it was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, Martha got to her feet. She could do with some tea.
She saw a fluffy robe hanging on her door that wasn't there before. Things sometimes just appeared in the TARDIS, so she wasn't too shocked to see it. Martha ran her hand down the sleeve and smiled at the cozy texture. She shrugged it on and entered the hallway. She felt a bit exposed with her hair down and no makeup, but it wasn't worth the effort for a single cup of tea.
Martha hoped she wouldn't run into the Doctor looking like this, but another part of her figured he wouldn't really care. He was still too stuck on Rose to really see her.
Martha shook her head. No use being bitter when she's just trying to get some tea and go back to bed.
She opened the door that led to the kitchen a couple hours ago, and it was a cozy little library with a hearth. Martha gazed around it for a minute; it looked like a lovely place to spend an evening. Maybe instead of tea, she should just—
Thud thud thud!
Martha turned, startled by the noise. It was coming from down the hall. She crept toward the door she thought it came from, and hesitated a couple feet away. A thump came from the room. Heart pounding, Martha stepped forward and pressed her hand to the door. It opened smoothly, revealing a messy workshop. It had the makings of some organized chaos, except there were several containers tipped over. Theremetal bits and gadgets spilling out of them; scattered over the floor like someone had kicked them over in a fit of rage.
And there was the Doctor. He was sitting on the floor, facing away from her with his head bowed. One hand was pressed against the wall in front of him and the other covered his face. His shoulders shook, like…
“Doctor?” Martha asked, quietly. “Are you alright?”
He visibly startled. His head jerked toward her, then back away. He lowered his head further (to wipe at his face?) then cleared his throat.
“Martha! I thought you'd gone to bed,” the Doctor said. His voice sounded normal. “What are you doing up?”
He slowly stood as he spoke, and Martha could swear he was shaking. She wanted to get closer to check on him, but she was rooted to the spot.
“I just wanted some tea,” she said after a moment.
“Ah, tea. Love a good cup of tea.”
He turned to face her now. He looked… normal. Was she overthinking…?
He strode forward, and she took an instinctive step back to clear the doorway, holding the robe tight around her. He leaned around the frame into the hall and squinted.
She really was hoping not to run into him looking like this, but the lighting was better out here and she could see the redness to his eyes, and… she was right. He’d been crying.
“Did she move the rooms around again?” The Doctor stepped out of the room in a whirl of motion and eyed the hallway for a moment, before skipping down the hallway and opening up a doorway. “There it is! Everything you need for a cuppa should be in there.”
Martha knew the tea was kept in the kitchen. She wasn't asking him to show her. But he could be strangely thick at times so the question was: did he actually think she needed help finding the kitchen, or was this a distraction?
She held his eyes. After a moment, his gaze drifted to the side, then he patted the doorway to the kitchen. “Well! I'm going back to work. Nighty-night!”
Just as suddenly as he'd emerged, the Doctor disappeared back into his little garage-room.
Martha stood, shocked. Then she whirled around, all her self consciousness forgotten, and hurried back to the door.
“Doctor?” The door was locked now, so she pressed her ear to it. “Doctor, are you alright?”
There was some brief shuffling, then footsteps approached the door. Martha leaned back just in time for the door to slide open. He leaned in the doorway, a classic Doctor smile on his face.
“‘Course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?”
Martha hesitated, suddenly uncertain. Had she been reading too much into things?
“I don't know, you just seemed…” Martha trailed off, wincing at how flimsy it was starting to look in the face of a perfectly cheerful Doctor. “Today was pretty rough, and I thought I heard something, so I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
There was a pause; a moment where the Doctor just stared at her, face blank and unmoving.
Then the Doctor placed an understanding hand on her shoulder. “Everything's fine, Martha. Nothing to worry about. But you should really get some sleep. Humans aren't meant to be awake this long.”
No, he was trying to get her to leave. It couldn't be nothing if he wanted to get rid of her.
She was worried about him. He didn't want to say it, but he was upset after what happened in Manhattan. Who wouldn't be?
But he was hiding it from her, and she didn't quite have the words to reach him. Martha was at a loss. And, it wasn't really any of her business, was it? If he wanted to be left alone, she should respect that.
“I guess I'll get my tea then,” she said.
The Doctor nodded and gave her another smile. “Good night,” he said.
Martha put her hand in the doorway to stop it from closing.
The Doctor looked from her hand to her face with a raised eyebrow.
“If you need anything… just let me know, yeah?”
The Doctor smiled again, and it might've been just her but it seemed more fragile than before. “Thank you, Martha Jones.”
He gently brushed her hand away from the door and she let him. The door closed with a certain finality to it.
Martha stood there for a short eternity before finally walking away for her cup of tea.
Maybe if she was Rose, it would be different, but he was never going to come to her for comfort. She felt a little silly for even trying. Besides, the Doctor was strong; she was sure he'd be fine.
She'd stopped worrying about it by the time she got back into bed, and a long sound sleep later she'd nearly forgotten about it entirely.
When Martha woke up, she got ready, hair and makeup all in place. Maybe on their adventure today he'd finally notice her; he was still a man after all, and Martha wasn't vain but she knew she was attractive. It couldn't hurt in winning his affection.
She was bright and smiling when she found him in the console room… only for her to open the door to her room, twelve hours after she left, like none of it ever even happened.
Goodbye was a bittersweet thing… she almost couldn't believe it was real, and it was over. But she would never forget the Doctor.
(Thankfully, it was a false alarm, seeing as he came back not two seconds later. One more adventure, for the road. One more chance with the Doctor.)