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doctor who (d1) martha jones

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[and look who's finally back on the Plane! Martha's sitting at the Astral Bar with several egg cartons - some on either side of her - and a large basket filled with that obnoxious Easter grass that goes everywhere. she takes a dyed egg from one of the cartons and spins it - it's obviously boiled, so she sets it in a carton labelled 'chicken eggs - boiled'. the next one spins lazily, so she zaps it with a hand-held ultrasound-y device. this egg goes in a carton that says 'chicken eggs - raw'. taking a break, she ganks one of the boiled eggs and peels it, salting and eating it neatly.]

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[Apparently Ianto's become a bit of a lush lately, so here he is at the bar again.] Haven't seen you around here in a while.

[Martha figures that anybody involved with Torchwood probably drinks more than a normal person] Tom came home on leave, so I was busy with him. [lalala spinny egg]

[It's working with Jack. Very stressful. He completely deserves that beer he's opening right now.] Ah. Understandable then, I suppose. Any particular reason for the eggs?

[what the hell, she is spinning eggs. And then sorting things. WHAT SCIENTIFIC PROCESS IS THIS?]

[it is the Torchwood scientific process! which, uh, being from Torchwood, probably isn't terribly scientific. Martha spots the Master and gives him a Look for a moment, then goes back to her egg-spinning. yay brightly coloured eggs!]

[Using The Gloves of Rassilon, he examines one of the eggs. Without asking. What? He doesn't like touching things and he doesn't like asking permission. It's not suiting to the Lord High President of Gallifrey]

[sigh, of course the Master would be touching her eggs] Interesting sartorial choice there. Are robes in this spring?

[-is that innuendo? And what is it with people questioning Rassilon's clothing!]

These are the robes of the Lord High President of Gallifrey. Seasons have little to do with it.

[in YOUR endo, Master. she is thinking about egging your robes, though.]

Lord High- Oh, you've got to be joking.

I would not jest about such an important office. [The Grumble of Rassilon] Perhaps that other fool might, but I would not.

You mean the Doctor? [Martha helps herself to another one of the boiled eggs - and is that a cracking sound coming from the basket?]

I do not. [he looks over to where the cracking sound is coming from]

Your child appears to be hatching.

[it is not unreasonable to decide that the lady was eating some of her kids and not eating some others. Lower creatures are barbarians!]

[D:] It's not my child! I don't have...little dinosaurs! [beat] And I don't lay eggs!

They aren't meant to be hatching so soon!

[calmly] I can't be certain with aliens.

What is it meant to be?

[grimaces]

Is that...good?

[blinkblink] 's just a regular boiled egg. [except for the fact that it's, uh, pink]

There is a reason it's pink?

[he really, really hopes there's a reason]

[have one of those 'are you an idiot?' stares, Doctor] Because it's an Easter egg?

[genuine surprise]

Is it Easter already?

[nod] You've never been very good with keeping track of time - but I expect that comes from travelling amongst timelines. [here, Ten, have an egg]

Edited 2009-04-11 02:13 (UTC)

[holds it up with two fingers]

What's the significance of the egg again? I vaguely remember something about a homicidal rabbit...

Uh, the Easter Bunny? I...don't think he's homocidal. [confused look] I'm not sure what the proper religious significance of it is, 'cos Mum was never too big on the whole church thing.

Perhaps for the best. Religion can do more harm than good. Depending on the religion, of course.

[can't be too anti-PC, this is a 6pm time slot, after all]

What've you been up to? Besides festivities?

Well, that can be said for a lot of things, can't it? [she shrugs] Been busy with work, mostly. I'm supposed to go home for Easter dinner tomorrow, but I've got to finish checking these eggs for work first. We've got loads of 'em, like little ticking time bombs all over Cardiff.

What's wrong with them? [pulls on glasses to inspect]

Well, apparently there's these little saurian creatures that're like cuckoos - they lay their eggs in places and expect other birds - or people - to take care of them till they hatch. Problem is, they're brightly coloured and look just like chicken eggs. So if we don't find all the eggs in time, we'll be overrun by little lizards. [Martha spins an egg, and it wobbles slowly] The ones like this are either raw chicken eggs or alien eggs - I have to scan them with an ultrasound to see which is which.

The ultimate Easter Egg hunt, eh?

Well, at least you're biding some time here. Doesn't move quite so quickly on the Plane.

[beat] I think.

[amused smile] Except with less chocolate and more baby dinosaurs.

I've never really noticed time at home passing at all while I've been gone, have you?

It moves slowly for me.

But that's probably just me.

Long few weeks and all that.

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