The Alchemist knows that Time has consequences. Now having Regenerated with her Bondmate, the Doctor, both Time Lords have to confront the repercussions of Rose Tyler's actions. The question is, when will that payment fully come due? They received o...
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[TARDIS]
The Doctor and the Alchemist move around the TARDIS console, their temporary companion gripping it tightly. As the Doctor flips switches and turns knobs, she reaches over to adjust them back. Martha watches, amused. He finally reaches for one last lever, only for the Alchemist to beat him to it, throwing it with a smirk. The ship lurches before settling smoothly.
"There we go!" the Doctor grins, "Perfect landing. Which isn't easy in such a tight spot."
Martha huffs out a laugh, "You should be used to tight spots by now."
The Time Lady scrunches up her face and shakes her head wildly, sending her hair flying. The Doctor pouts, while Martha dissolves into full laughter.
"Where are we?" Martha asks once she catches her breath.
"The end of the line," the Doctor says as she dashes toward the doors, "No place like it."
She looks up, waiting. The Doctor nods, signaling that it's safe to open them, oblivious to the way his wife looks away, a frown creeping onto her face.
[Martha's Flat]
Martha stops short outside, frowning in disappointment when she sees her flat.
"Home... You took me home?"
The Doctor and his Bondmate step out and glance about curiously; they've landed within her bedroom, and the Time Lady notes with amusement that it's Tiffany blue, not aubergine like her room in the ship is.
"In fact," he continues, "The morning after we left, so you've only been gone about twelve hours. No time at all, really."
She frowns, "But all the stuff we've done. Shakespeare, New New York, old New York...?"
"Yep, all in one night, relatively speaking. Everything should be just as it was. Books, CDs, laundry..." the Doctor goes to pick up a pair of panties from the clothes horse when his hand is whacked by a freckled one, "Ahem, so, back where you were, as promised."
"This is it?"
He nods, and takes a deep breath, glancing at his upset wife, "Yeah, we should probably, er..."
Martha's phone rings and the answering machine starts up immediately, "Hi, I'm out. Leave a message!"
"I'm sorry," she winces, embarrassed by the interruption.
"Martha, are you there? Pick it up, will you?" Francine, Martha's mother, calls out on the machine.
"It's Mum. It'll wait."
"...Alright then, pretend that you're out if you like. I was only calling to say that your sister's on TV. On the news of all things. Just thought you might be interested."
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