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Season four, episode sixteen:
The Waters Of Mars - Part One.
- ~ -
"State your name, rank and intention," She demanded sharply, the searing focus of her eyes fixed in the glimmering steel of her gun. Laser, he hoped. A burnt wound would be better than an open one.
The lights above them were a medical white, bearing and burning as he struggled to dart his eyes from corner to corner. To his side, someone was fiddling with his space suit. He hoped they wouldn't ruin it. He liked that space suit.
"The Doctor," He said, "Doctor. Fun."
A door burst open.
"What the hell?!"
A man came stumbling in, hurlign himself forward like an animal as his dark, wild eyes settled upon the Doctor, "It's a man. A man on mars! How?"
The Doctor watched his dark hair sway as he joined two others, a tall man and a short woman with black hair. None of them carried the same eagle-like caution as the woman before him.
"He was wearing this thing," A voice grumbled from behind him, he cast a quick glance and found a dirty-blond woman in her forties staring at his suit with a disgruntled expression, "I've never seen anything like it."
"What did Mission Control say?" The wild man questioned.
She shrugged, "They're out of range for ten hours because of the solar flares."
"If we could cut the chat, everyone," The sharp-eyed woman, the leader no doubt, ordered in a clipped tone.
The Doctor studied her, his eyes darted across the deep shadows beneath her eyes, the dry skin, the lines on her forehead and hummed, "Actually, chat's second on my list, the first being gun. Pointed at my head. Which then puts my head second and chat third. I think. Gun, head, chat, yeah. Ri...I hate lists."
He dared not focus on the confusion that flickered in the leader's eyes as he trailed off, willing himself into silence he knew wouldn't be filled. He could bare it only for a few seconds before he jumped to speak again, "You could hurt someone with that...Just put it down."
"Oh, you'd like that."
He bristled at the accusatory tone, "Can you find me someone who wouldn't?"
He knew someone who wouldn't. Someone who'd thrive beneath the threat and challenge it with glee burning in her eyes. The lights burned brighter now, worse than the scrutinising gazes of the Maritan settlers.
