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doctor who (d1) martha jones

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[Martha's covered in grime and unidentifiable sludge, her clothes are torn, and she's bleeding in a few places - she's also got splotches of a black sticky liquid that some of you might recognise as Weevil blood on her clothing. All in all, she is not an especially happy person, seeing as how she's just spent her Friday night trudging through Cardiff's sewers. She sits down on the "floor" of the Plane and uses some of her first aid supplies to attempt to clean and bandage the wounds - luckily, there's nothing severe enough to warrant stitches.[

God, I need a bath. Maybe a bubble bath. With some candles and a bath bomb from Lush and a glass of wine. [snort] And a night off.

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[Concerned, he rushes over to Martha]

Martha. What happened?

[she smiles up at him] Don't worry, Doctor, I'm fine. Just a few scratches, that's all.

[notices the bleeding]

You sure?

[dabbing at the blood with some gauze] Well, I'll have a few nasty bruises in the morning, I expect, and it might take days to get the smell out of my hair, but there's no lasting damage.

[winces at the wounds, and sits down next to her] So how did that happen?

Weevil hunt down in the sewers. This sort of...fungus came through the Rift and started reproducing in the pipes - made the Weevils more aggressive than usual. [grimace] I reckon it set off their mating instincts or something. Anyway, we had to tranquilise the Weevils with a powerful enough sedative to knock them out till the effects wore off, then kill off the mushrooms.

Their mating instinct?

Promise me you're at least trying to be careful.

[wryly] Turns out horny Weevils are very aggressive and territorial. And they like human women.

C'mon, when have I ever not been careful?

[a little disturbed] Horny weevils? Do I even want to know what happened there?

[delicate cough] Ah, no, you probably don't. [is that a hint of a blush on Martha's cheeks?]

[Have a note, Martha. "Weevil blood doesn't wash out, you know. You alright?"]

Yeah, I'm fine, just a few scratches. [disgruntled sigh] Do you know how often my clothes get ruined chasing aliens around?

["Once a week, if you're lucky?"]

Martha?

[vanishes from the plane and rearrives with hot water in a bowl and a towel]

You all right?

[she gives him a grateful smile and starts cleaning her wounds, wincing a little bit] I'm fine. I just got banged up by some Weevils, that's all.

Don't they know anything about taking care of their doctors at UNIT anymore? Here, let me?

[that would be Torchwood, not UNIT, but Martha refrains from correcting him and lets him clean her wounds instead] I really don't think a few contusions are much to fret over, in the scheme of things.

What? I'm not allowed to worry?

[small grin]

And these aren't that small. I imagine I'd be whining a bit over them.

Oh, a little bit, maybe. [grins at him] I do know how to take care of myself, though.

Well, I never said you couldn't. [slightly wider grin]

Still. Weevils! So misunderstood, if you ask me.

Oh, yeah, completely. [rolling her eyes] Tell you what, you can spend your Friday night in the sewers in bloody Cardiff next week and see what you think about them being misunderstood then.

Well, have you tried talking to them?

[offended by her appearance.. and smell.. and... everything...]

And bleach.

Oi, I'm binning these clothes once I get home, thanks.

For your skin.

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