Fic: Left Unsaid (1/5)
Title: Left Unsaid
Summary: The stories Martha Jones never told the Torchwood team
Characters: Jack/Martha, Torchwood team
Spoilers: Set after Last of the Time Lords
Rating: None, just Owen swearing
Word count: 7 drabbles with 100 words each
Notes: This is ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
jadesfire2808's present for the Pass It Forward Meme, and it happens to be her birthday today as well... isn't that perfect? ;) Unbetaed, just written, sorry. It's really about the things I didn't write, and I planned to write something more cheerful, but I can't do happy or coherent at the moment. Hope it's still worth reading? *crawls back into her corner*
Fic Masterlist: Here.
"Doctor Jones, meet Mister Jones," Jack laughs, welcoming their newest team member to the Hub. "She saved the world," Jack adds, as if that's the best reason to hire her.
She seems fragile and shy on first glance, but her handshake is strong, her palm surprisingly calloused. Ianto can tell she's already cataloguing the Hub, trained, dark eyes flitting over everything.
Her deep friendship with Jack is glaringly obvious, yet Ianto read her file, knows they only met once while Jack was away.
He isn't sure if Martha Jones is a piece of Jack's puzzle, or a whole new enigma.
+++
"Tell her we're not the fucking Red Cross," Owen snaps, slamming the list of new medical supplies onto Jack's desk, interrupting Ianto's briefing.
"Just... humor her, Owen. Martha's seen a lot." Jack answers, his voice surprisingly calm, apparently he'd expected this confrontation. The doctor deliberately leaves the offending list behind when he's finished ranting, so Ianto picks it up to take a look, frowning at the vast amount of antibiotics they now own.
"Owen's right, we'll never need half of these," he states carefully.
"She's seen a lot," Jack repeats quietly, clearly lost in thought.
Ianto doesn't dare to ask.
+++
"Do you inhale your food? How do you do that?" Gwen laughs, gesturing at Martha's empty pizza box while she's still holding her first slice.
"You get used to it when you..." everybody looks up when Martha stops, her eyes suddenly glassy with memory. Jack's hand creeps into hers under the table, offering (almost) unseen support.
"Well," Martha begins again, "a pack of siblings does that to you, I guess," she smiles, stealing another slice of pizza from Jack. The moment is gone, the team returns to their usual banter.
Only Gwen's still watching Martha, her cop instinct tingling.
+++
Jack and Martha have a pattern, Ianto discovers soon.
Late at nights, when they’re the last ones left in the Hub, Jack leans against the doorframe of his office, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. It's an invitation to talk. The following conversations often last through the night, both apparently immune to sleep.
Ianto first thought they were shagging, but something in their troubled, weary stance convinced him that they're not.
Ianto finds them on the sofa late one night, Martha soundly asleep in Jack's arms, who's watching her intently.
"Nightmares," Jack whispers, as if he needs to apologize.
+++
"Dawai!" Martha yells at the smuggler, her perfect Russian surprising Tosh. It's the third time Martha spoke a language that isn't listed in her CV. She remembers the German and his alien gem and the memorable incident when Tosh had sworn in Japanese and Martha couldn't stop giggling, admiring her imagery. It's time for a little test.
"You're quite a language expert," Tosh comments in her best French while Jack's busy handling the swag.
"Helps to survive," Martha responds absentmindedly, not even noticing she slipped into another language.
Not for the first time Tosh wonders who Martha Jones really is.
+++
Martha gets out of her ruined, slimy clothes, unaware that she's almost naked and Owen is staring. She's sexy in underwear; lean, thankfully unharmed. He's not drooling, he hopes, but then his medical training suddenly kicks in.
"Where's that from?" he asks, fingertips travelling over a scar on her back. He yanks his hand away when he sees fear in Martha's unguarded eyes. She self-consciously covers the scar (fresh, deep, something very sharp) with a towel.
"Long story about psychopathic boyfriends," she smiles weakly and flees from the room.
Owen scowls. That wasn't the only scar she had.
+++
"There's so much out there," Martha says into the darkness, staring at the black sea of the Bay. Jack puts an arm around her, soothing her nerves, keeping her close. She knows he must feel her trembling. A constant, the Doctor called him, and she can't help being grateful that he's here with her.
"Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it," she sighs, wiping a tear from her eye.
"We'll see," Jack smiles, his very presence warming her soul.
Martha nods, resting her head on his shoulder, waiting for the sun to rise from the sea. A new day.
Part Two
gloomy
