Pairing: Martha Jones/Sam Tyler
Fic Title: the girl from tomorrow
Rating/Warning(s): NC-17 / sex, spoilers through season 3 of Doctor Who and season 2 of Life on Mars
Genre: Crossover, Romance, Angst
Why This Must Be Read: When Martha finds herself stuck in 1972 with a doppelgänger of the Master she really doesn't know exactly what to think. Bittersweet and heartbreaking this author makes us care about Sam and Martha so that when the tragedy of it all comes to a head you can't help but mourn for these two characters.
A young black female doctor walks into the CID, and no, it’s not the start of a joke.
Phyllis announces “someone to see you, boss” in a strange, quite-impressed voice.
Everybody turns to Martha and looks at her like she had two heads.
But Sam says “hello, doctor” as if she walked here every day.
“It’s about the stab victim.”
“Has he woken up?” Sam asks, hopeful.
Gene shoots Sam an exasperated glance.
“Oh, yes, sorry. This is Martha Jones. She is the doctor in charge of the witness from the Farragon murders.”
Martha clears her throat.
“I thought you might want to know, inspectors.” She feels a bit intimidated, standing in the middle of CID, like somebody put a spotlight on her. “The man you are looking for, the attacker, is left-handed.”
Gene and Sam exchange a look.
“A gypsy is she?” Gene comments. “More into voodoo I’d have sworn, by the look of her.”
Sam rolls his eyes: “Why do you say that, Martha?”
She takes a step towards him.
“I was disinfecting the stab wound and I notice these marks, like the indentures in a knife. They were in the downside of the wound. And the victim has bruises around his wrists, like somebody had grabbed him down. So it must have gone like this… May I?” She asks Sam for permission and Sam nods, although he is not quite sure what he is saying yes to.
Martha takes a pen from the pocket of her lab coat. She walks up to Sam and puts one hand on his shoulder, pushing so that he turns his back to her.
Ray whistles and Gene gives Sam a questioning look.
“The attacker grabbed him like this,” Martha says, twisting Sam’s arms behind his back, grabbing both his wrists with one hand. Sam looks at her over his shoulder and gives out a small, amused sigh. “And he stabbed him like this.”
Martha mimics the stabbing, touching the end of the pen to Sam’s ribcage. Sam shrinks away a bit, not from that touch but rather from the feeling of her fingers around his wrists and her breath right behind the back of his neck.
“That’s why I think the attacker is left-handed,” she concludes, looking at Sam over his shoulder, giving him a sly smile. She lets him go – her fingertips brush the palm of his hand as she lets it free; Sam notes the gesture and wonders what it means.
“Well, that’s-“ Sam starts, suddenly and strangely tongue-tied. “Yes, that’s useful. Thanks, Martha.”
Gene’s gaze shifts from Sam to Martha.
“Blimey,” he says to her, or more in her general direction. “Are you working for the Caribbean CID as well as a nurse?”
“I’m a doctor, not a nurse. And I’m from African descent, not West Indian, mister Hunt.”
“It’s DCI Hunt not mister, love.”
Martha crosses her arms: “It’s Doctor Jones, not love, Chief Inspector.”
Gene raises an eyebrow – at Sam.
“She is a right smarty-pants, too. If it weren’t for her skin I’d say you were twins, Tyler.”
Sam decides to get Martha out of the building before anyone gets hurts. Apart from his already debauched faith in humanity, that is.