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Chapter 3

As she'd expected she might after spending the night on a park bench, Martha woke with an almighty crick in her neck. She sat up slowly, stretching, and looked up at the Doctor, who she had still been partly lying on. He was leant back on the bench, eyes closed, and apparently asleep. But Martha knew better. She knew that the Doctor slept very little, him being a Time Lord and all that. She also knew that there was no way that the Doctor would go to sleep while they were stranded without the TARDIS in another time. Despite his outward display of almost reckless energy, he wouldn't put them in a situation where they were that vulnerable.

"What time is it?" Martha groaned, squinting in the early morning light.

"7.43am," the Doctor replied without opening his eyes, and not for the first time Martha was amazed by his scarily accurate, and apparently innate, sense of time. Then he cracked open an eye, followed by the other, and grinned at her, "I was wondering when you'd wake up. I was really starting to get fed up of your snoring."

"I do not snore!" Martha protested, really hoping that he was just pulling her leg and wasn't really serious about her snoring.

"It's ok, Martha," the Doctor said offhandedly, "It's a common problem amongst humans, you know." Then he bounded to his feet and said, "So, what d'you say we go and find some breakfast?"

"Sounds good," Martha agreed, sitting up. "As long as it's someplace warm," she added, her breath visible in the air. She pulled the Doctor's trench coat around her and looked at the frost that had appeared during the night.

"Agreed," the Doctor said, with a little shiver of his own. Evidently it was cold enough to be starting to get to him too.

Half an hour later, both the time travellers were sat in the local 'caff', each with a full English breakfast, and both on the house.

"How'd you manage this?" Martha asked, digging in.

The Doctor held up the wallet containing his psychic paper. At the moment it had the appearance of an I.D. card proclaiming him as 'Mr John Tyler', an investor scouring London for the city's top cafés.

Martha snorted, "And they actually bought that?!"

The Doctor scratched his head absentmindedly, "Well, you know humans. You lot believe whatever you want to believe, whether it makes sense or not."

"Hang on a minute," Martha broke in, "Why didn't you just use that last night to get us a place to stay? Anything would have been preferable to the park bench!"

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad!" the Doctor protested. Then at Martha's look, he muttered, "It definitely sounded like you had a good night's sleep," under his breath. But unfortunately he wasn't quite quiet enough for Martha not to hear him.

Knowing that this was another joke about her supposed snoring, Martha ignored the comment. "So, why didn't you?" she asked again.

To her amusement, the Doctor looked a little flustered and admitted sheepishly, "Well, I umm... I sort of... At the time I-- I didn't think of it."

"You didn't think of it," Martha repeated slowly and disbelievingly. The Doctor merely ducked his head slightly, avoiding her eyes, and returned to his food.

Martha looked down at her own plate. She wished that she could be angry at him. But to be fair, she thought, whilst tugging at the sleeves of the Doctor's trench coat that she was still wearing, she hadn't thought of the psychic paper either. She'd been too disorientated, exhausted and not to mention nauseous, after the little trip she'd taken to get to this time. Therefore, assuming that the trip had affected the Doctor in much the same way, he couldn't have been feeling his best last night either, Time Lord physiology notwithstanding. She knew he liked to brag about his superior biology, but she refused to believe that he had been completely unaffected by the trip. That being the case, Martha knew she had to forgive the Doctor, just as she knew she always would.

However, Martha had a feeling that for all of the Doctor's vast and seemingly endless knowledge, she was going to be the one to get them to fit in in this time. The Doctor sometimes had very little awareness of how to get by in the real world. How she prayed that they weren't stuck here for good.

With a heavy heart, Martha returned her attention back to her food. Who knew what the future would bring?

... Well, to some extent... she did. But for once, it wasn't the world's future that she and the Doctor were concerned with. It was their own.

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A/N: Yeah, I know. It was a short short chapter. I'm very sorry about that, but I've been so very busy busy busy recently! I'll try to update within a reasonable amount of time this time... but I'm not making any promises!

Please review and tell me what you thought!