svanderslice (svanderslice) wrote,
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svanderslice

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Fic: Out of Range

Title: Out of Range

Rating: G

Characters: 10th Doctor, Martha, Mentions of Rose

Spoilers: Doomsday, if you squint.  
Genre:
Angst

Synopsis: This is my take on Martha getting her Superphone.  I wrote it before it happened in the show, but decided to share it with all of my lj friends who don’t read ff.net anyway. It has also been up on Teaspoon for a while, but I wanted it on my Lj page.   The original synopsis read: The 10th Doctor shares a bit of Time Lord Technology with Martha and bares a bit of his soul in the process.  

Also, I don't have a beta. Sorry if the grammar is bad.


Out of Range




The Doctor sauntered into the control room, hands planted firmly in his trouser pockets and a typically pensive expression plastered on his hansom face. Martha looked up at him from her place on the rickety upholstered bench that served as the room’s only furniture and studied the Doctor as he went about his business. God he was beautiful, she thought, her eyes hungrily taking in the way his suit jacket fit at the shoulders and accented his narrow hips. He walked right past her without a word, oblivious to her as usual and starting fiddling with the vast array of unidentifiable controls. Martha admired the way his trousers curved around his bum as he bent around the console to reach a switch located almost a hundred and eighty degrees from where he was holding down a lever. The Doctor’s left trainer-clad foot hovered precariously in the air and he did an absurd little dance in order to drive his ship properly. The TARDIS shuddered and wailed as he accomplished the task. Martha held on for dear life, attempting to not be thrown from her precarious seat. As the shuddering finally died down she watched silently as he flipped one more switch and swung the display screen around.

“There we go!” He cried triumphantly, tapping the screen with the back of his fingers, “Solaria Prime.” The Doctor finally turned to face his companion, his enthusiastic grin so bright it sent an arsenal of butterflies straight into Martha’s churning stomach. “Best vacation spot in the universe. Well,” he frowned a little and tugged on an ear, “next to Disneyland that is.” Martha couldn’t help but smile back; he was like a big kid sometimes. The Doctor ran towards the door, grabbing his coat from its place between two of the organic pillars. “Come on.”

Martha hopped down from her perch to follow the leader and gasped when the dim light of the TARDIS transitioned into glorious rays of sunlight. The golden leaved trees were lush, but delicate, and curved downward in little domes like gilded weeping willows. Flowers of every hue lined the paved walkway and fountains of every shape and size adorned this unbelievable garden. The air was sweet to smell, and soft on the skin, and the breeze actually seemed to sing softly as it blew by. Martha could only gape in wonder.

“Incredible isn’t it?” The Doctor’s question startled Martha back into reality and she sharply spun her head around to meet his soulful brown eyes. The golden beams of light haloed him, giving the Doctor an almost angelic appearance. She glanced back at the scene around them and considered her situation. This place was almost as beautiful as he was.


“Why the long face Martha?” He asked, disappointed that his efforts had not impressed her sufficiently.

Martha was flustered and instantly tried to come up with some reason for her distress other than her unfortunate, and unreturned, infatuation. “Um,” she stammered awkwardly, “I was just wishing my family could see this.”

He frowned and looked down at his feet for a moment, a dark shadow replacing all previous gaiety. The Doctor’s voice was rough when he finally spoke, “I know what you mean,” he said, “Rose would have loved this.”

Martha instantly regretted bringing up the subject. If all roads led to Rome, than all reflection led to Rose. Any and every subject that scratched beneath the emotional surface uncovered a bit of her. Martha felt a deep and uncharitable dislike for this mystery woman suddenly bubble up inside her. The Doctor had told her that Rose was happy, and with her family. And while Martha was pretty sure that wasn’t the whole truth of the matter, it still meant she’d left him, and only a fool would think he’d wanted her to go. Whoever this ‘Rose’ was, she’d chewed him up and spit him out. Standing in the sunlight beside Martha was a man with a broken heart; well two of them at any rate. It was the perfect waste of a good man. A right shame, even if he was an alien.

The Doctor recovered quickly, instantly shifting his grief to the side and smiled again. “Well,” he said jovially, “if you miss your mum so much why don’t you just phone her?” He grinned, as if expecting her to say something he’d be able to correct. Martha played along.

“Right.” She said sarcastically, pulling her mobile out of her jacket pocket and waving it around. “I’ll just call my mum a few million light years away, and a couple hundred centuries in the past and say ‘hey Mum, I’m gonna be a bit late for tea as I’ve run away with this alien bloke to a distant planet, okay?’”

The Doctor just continued to smile. “You could, yeah.”

Martha was incredulous. “She a bit out of range,” she all but yelled, gesturing to the splendor around them.

The Doctor snatched Martha’s mobile up in his hands, ignoring her protests, and marched confidently back inside the ship. Martha followed him just in time to watch him remove the battery. “I’ve been meaning to do this for you,” he said, producing a strange black disk from seemingly nowhere. “Every new companion needs a little bit of jiggery pokery.” His eyes darkened for an instant, once again lost inside a painful memory, before snapping back into his usual feigned levity. “There you are,” he said, placing the phone back in Martha’s delicate hand. “Go ahead and give it a try.”

“You’re serious?” She asked, eyeing the mobile phone warily, “I can talk to my mum?”

The Doctor’s expression grew smug as he arrogantly tucked long fingered hands into his coat pockets, “You can call anywhere in the universe,” he replied proudly, “any time as well.”

Martha eyed the phone and pondered the possibilities before finally realizing that she didn’t really want to talk to her family. Her face fell at the realization. There’d be recriminations to dodge and explanations to make. Martha wasn’t so sure she was up to that just yet. “Maybe later,” she said trying to hide her apprehension but failing miserably.

For once the Doctor didn’t let it go. He just had to pick a little deeper. “Is something wrong?” The question was polite, but all the same it angered her. He told her next to nothing about himself and she was just supposed to bare her soul? Martha took a page from the Doctor’s book and venomously changed the subject.

“Did you do this for Rose?” She asked, holding up the mobile phone for him to see.

“What?” he asked, shock at hearing Rose’s name evident in his pained expression.

“You said every companion needs this,” her voice was getting frantic, jealously rearing its ugly head. For some unholy reason she wanted to hurt him, punish the Doctor for not being able to see her; for seeing Rose instead. “Did you fix her phone too?”

The Doctor didn’t answer; his face a perfect reflection of grief. He dodged her question and started manning the TARDIS’s controls again. “If you don’t like it here we can go someplace else.” The ship started its familiar scream as it powered up.

“Why won’t you answer me?” She all but yelled, moving to stand directly beside him. “Why can’t you talk about her?” Martha’s emotions were so keyed up she was panting, heart beating as if running a marathon. “You will never let her go if you can’t talk about it.”

“I didn’t let her go!” He did scream then, jumping back from the controls and stabbing all ten fingers though his glorious hair. “I lost her!” Martha just stared at him, jaw dropped as he drew deep ragged breaths through clenched teeth. His body language screamed ‘keep off’ more eloquently than any sign or porcupine quill. He shook it off quickly though, embarrassed at baring that much of his soul, and turned away to once again work on the controls.

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence then, despite the grating sounds of the TARDIS, as neither of them moved for several eternal seconds. Martha watched him, observed his obvious grief, and instantly regretted her petty jealousy. The doctor in her emerged and all she wanted to do was heal him, this beautiful man, her friend. Martha took a deep breath and drew on some previously unaccounted for well of courage. Laying a hand gently on his arm she repeated her question, this time without any guile, “Did you fix her phone Doctor?”

“Yes,” he replied quietly, refusing to look at her. “She called it her superphone, “his lips stretched into a sad smile, “used to carry it everywhere, saved the world with it a time or two.” He trailed off, lost in his memories of another life.

Martha held up her mobile. “Anywhere in the universe,” she repeated his earlier boast, “any time as well?”

“That’s right.” He replied softly, still pretending to man the TARDIS.

Martha instantly remembered what he’d said at the start of this, “if you miss her so much why don’t you just phone her?”

The Doctor rubbed a palm down the length of the console in a gesture that seemed to offer little comfort. Martha's healing instinct flared up, pushing her tangled emotions closer and closer to the point of no return. And just as she was warning herself not to love him, he spoke; the words low, and gruff, and burning straight to her soul. “She a bit out of range.”

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