Me And Mrs Jones

by nostalgia [Reviews - 9]

  • All Ages
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They told Francine that the Doctor's name was John Smith and that the weekend Martha missed was spent trying to get back from Scotland with no money after a drunken party. Francine nodded wearily and went put the kettle on, sent Martha off to shower and change her clothes. The Doctor sat in the kitchen swinging his long legs from the table and trying to look innocent.

"I almost believed you," said Francine, filling the kettle with cold water. "The bit about the lorry driver who took you to Newcastle was really good."

"He thought we were spies for the Green Party," said the Doctor, sticking to his lie.

"1977," said Francine.


"1977. November. You used to call me Frank, never did work out why."

It took him a moment to work out what she was telling him, and even then he missed it. "We've met before?"

"Not yet," she said, smiling a little. "You were shorter, messy black hair. Wore ripped jeans and an Amnesty t-shirt. Same bloody Amnesty t-shirt for years, far as I could tell. Do you still take two sugars?"

Right. Okay. It was bound to happen sometime. "Just the one this time." It was only a tiny bit awkward. "Don't tell me anything I shouldn't know yet."

"I'm not stupid!"

"Only as it is you've already decided my future wardrobe options and I'm going to have to call you Frank."

"Oh, right." She clicked the kettle on. "Sorry about that."

"Well, this is... incredibly weird."

"You think this is weird? You've only just turned up. I've spent the last thirty years waiting on you, wondering which of the kids was going to end up running off in that machine of yours. I knew it'd be one of the girls. You told me that much."

"Probably because you've just told me I'll tell you!"

"Not my fault you don't live like normal people, is it?"

"Time's a very fragile thing, Frank! Francine. Mrs Jones." Bloody hell, this was worse than getting slapped by Jackie Tyler. "I hate knowing my own future," he said, sulkily.

"How do you think I felt?"

"Sorry," he said, knowing how feeble it sounded. He'd always been aware of the idea that his companions might breed with other humans, but that was usually just a nice little footnote to the important bit, which was of course the time they spent in the TARDIS. After that they were probably really happy, but he found it best not to check just in case.

"Don't be, it was fantastic. Time of my life and all that." She looked at him in a way that reminded him why he avoided mothers at all costs. "If you so much as lay a hand on her, I'll castrate you."

"Never even crossed my mind," he lied.

"Good. I'm glad we sorted that out." She hugged him suddenly, almost dragging him off the table as she pressed him against her really very comfortable breasts. "I've missed you."

"Mmph," he agreed, trying to sound friendly. He hoped she didn't have weak ankles.

Francine let him go and started pouring the tea. "You should pop round sometime, when you're you. There'd be Jaffa Cakes," she added, apparently trying to tempt some as yet undiscovered Jaffa Cake habit.

"I'll make a note in my diary." If he ever remembered --

"If you ever remember where you left it."

This was getting a bit dizzying. "Actually, I will have two sugars." It might help. No wonder humans ate all the time, the number of things that seemed weird to them. He realised he'd learned an important lesson, and decided to promptly forget it in case it made him go a bit funny in the head.

Francine handed him his tea. "You said she got home safe. You might have been lying, but it's been a comfort." She kissed his cheek. "You're very sweet sometimes, you know."

"Must be all that sugar."

Francine winked at him in a highly suggestive way, but Martha returned before he could ask about it. Probably for the best really. After all, the surprises were what made life interesting.