Written for fearlessfirefly for the 2009 Summer Sixathon, who requested Martha, Six, and an alien invasion (with no Tom Milligan bashing). May I be flogged for posting this so late! The plot bunnies got out of hand on this one so it demanded more than one part. Many thanks to infiniteviking for doing a pinch-hit beta. :)

All in all, Martha thought it was shaping up to be a rubbish day.

The coffee maker had broken and dumped grounds in the pot. Then she couldn't find her keys. And straight in the door at UNIT that morning, Bennett had informed her they'd had another sabotage attempt on a London-area waterworks system--bringing the month's total to five. This news alone was enough to give Martha an instant headache. Nine o'clock AM and already she was reaching for the aspirin: things could surely only get better from here.

The source of the attacks on London's water system was almost a complete mystery. All UNIT had been able to ascertain was that the threat was alien, elusive and very persistent. The first attempt had been six weeks previously, when a city maintenance worker had come across what he described as "some mutant-looking bloke with brown scales" preparing to pour an unknown substance into a water filtration unit. The hapless man had been so surprised his gut reaction had been to hurl his tool belt at the intruder, hitting it in the head and knocking it unconscious. UNIT had been alerted, but unfortunately before they could arrive the alien had come to its senses and, according to the worker, vanished into thin air.

The second attempt was at West Brompton just three days later. When the third followed just two after that, UNIT was forced to acknowledge that they had a serious problem on their hands.

Considerable manpower was being spent putting a UNIT operative at nearly every major water station in the greater London area deemed to be at risk, while headquarters was a frantic mess trying to determine origin and motive. To the great frustration of the top brass, every encounter went much the same way as the first: the alien discovered mid-sabotage activated some sort of device strapped to their wrist--similar to Jack Harkness's vortex manipulator, Martha thought--and disappeared.

Today, Bennett had assured her, they'd gotten a breakthrough--UNIT had managed to capture one of the saboteurs in action. In addition to performing a standard biological assessment, Martha's superiors were hoping she could get some information out of the alien. Other interrogators had been unable to communicate with it and it was hoped that Martha, with her residual vortex energy, could translate.

"You've got too much faith in me," Martha said, frowning at the coffee pot in the canteen. It too was broken, adorned with a yellow Post-It with 'out of order' written on it. "I don't think it works that way--it's the TARDIS that did the translating, not me or the vortex."

Bennett shrugged. "I don't pretend to know how that stuff works. I'm just the messenger. I relay what I'm told." He smiled charmingly for her benefit. "Come on, let's go."

Martha tried her best to clear her mind as she followed Bennett down the halls of UNIT headquarters towards the detention block. She had never really been very comfortable with the military side of UNIT's operations; she much preferred putting her medical training to use. She felt she was at her best treating operatives hurt in the field or running tests in the lab, not chasing down alien threats.

She figured that a year spent walking the Earth under constant threat of capture and death had probably put her off the whole deal.

Up ahead, two UNIT soldiers were standing guard outside a door halfway down an otherwise deserted hall. They nodded at both Martha and Bennett as they approached. "What've we got?" Martha asked.

The taller of the guards spoke up. "Marks over in Millwall got this one in about an hour ago. Caught him with the usual stuff but Marks stunned him before he could beam out."

Martha took a moment to peek in the window of the door while the guards debriefed Bennett. The alien in question was sat in a chair towards the back of the small cell, shackled to the wall by both hands and feet. She thought it didn't look too unlike the Weevils that Jack's team in Cardiff dealt with. Just as she made to look away, the alien raised its head and looked at her, blinking slowly. She suppressed a shiver. She did not doubt the intelligence of the creature; there was just something ... knowing in its gaze.

"We don't know if the subject doesn't know our language or is just refusing to talk," the tall guard was saying. "It hasn't responded at all to us, but it doesn't seem to be confused either."

Martha forced herself to look away. "Well, shall we, gentlemen?" she cut in, taking a deep breath. "I'd really like to get this over with."

The guards unlocked the door and stood aside to let Martha and Bennett through. She smiled by way of thanks as she passed by; then the door shut behind them and they were alone with the strange creature before them.

The silence stretched out as the two sides sized each other up. The alien stared at them quietly, seemingly unperturbed. After a moment Bennett audibly swallowed. Martha glanced back at him and cleared her throat.

"Hello," she began. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

No reply. Martha shifted her weight to the other foot and glanced sideways at Bennett again, then back to the alien. "I'm Martha Jones," she added. "Medical officer for the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. I'm ... I represent Earth. Where do you come from?"

Still no reply. The alien was showing no signs at all of having even heard her, much less understood what she was saying. He kept his eyes trained on her, impassive and unreadable. Martha could tell Bennett was growing more and more uncomfortable as each moment passed, and had to admit the lack of response was unnerving her as well. She waited one more minute before sighing, and crossing her arms. "This isn't going to work," she muttered aside to Bennett. "We'll just have to go tell the Captain we couldn't get through. I'm sorry, but I think--"

"O'shurg'ha."

Martha stopped mid-sentence and both she and Bennett turned wide eyes to the alien, who was sitting as still as ever, blinking quietly at them. Bennett overcame his surprise first. "I'm sorry, what?"

The looked directly at Martha. "O'shurg'ha. Mal'sholanka har fordan ma gor'hurg'han."

"I ..." Martha was at a loss. "I don't understand what you're saying."

"Gor'dahn." And from the look on the alien's face, it knew she couldn't understand--and was enjoying itself. Rather than confuse her more, it just made Martha irritated. "Look," she replied. "I can see that you understand me. I can't understand you. Even if you can't--even if you don't speak my language, maybe we can still communicate. You're obviously here for something. UNIT could help us come to some sort of compromise ... maybe you can get whatever it is you need here, without harming us or our planet. How's that?"

The alien actually smiled--a predatory grin, revealing two rows of narrow, pointy teeth. It did not reassure Martha. "Gar."

She frowned. "Was that a 'no'? 'No' what?"

The grin widened. "Gar. Ma gar'ha forshol dan hurg'datha monafor." He pointed upward, then back down and out. "Har fordan golanka. O'shurg'ha."

"You keep saying that," Bennett interjected, leaning forward. "'O'shurg'ha'. What does that mean?"

The alien glanced briefly at Bennett before turning a smug face to Martha. "Har fordan golanka," it repeated, then laughed shortly. "O'shurgha!" And then he spat at her, soiling her boots with a bright red mucous.

Definitely a rubbish day.

"Oh, I think that is quite enough," Martha said sharply, grabbing Bennett by the elbow. At the door she turned and jabbed a finger at the alien, who looked quite pleased. "I'm not done with you yet," she bit out. "The next time I come back in here I will understand you, and we will get to the bottom of this." She yanked the door open and stalked out, Bennett fast on her heels.

"Wow, remind me never to get you dirty out in the field," Bennett muttered, grinning in awe. Martha silenced him with a glare. She couldn't even begin to guess the chemical makeup of that alien's saliva and how it would react to the leather of her boots, but at least it didn't seem to be corrosive. Bennett pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket. "Here, you can use this to--hey, where are you going?"

Martha was walking off down the hall, away from the guards and any prying ears. "Getting us some help," she replied as he jogged after her to keep up. She had pulled her mobile out and was thumbing quickly through the numbers listed. "I'm calling the Doctor."

"You're calling the Doctor? Are you sure that's necessary?" Bennett whispered incredulously as he drew level with her. "I'm sure we could find something in the vaults that we could use, or even call that Torchwood lot you were on loan to."

Martha shook her head. "Torchwood's in Cardiff--it will take them hours to get here. And if we had something that could translate that thing, the Captain would've used it already. I know the TARDIS can translate for us, and the Doctor can be here in a snap. Unless you have a better idea?"

Bennett held his hands up. "All I'm saying is, things tend to go tits up around here when the Doctor's involved. I've read his history. Do you really want him getting involved in this?"

"We don't have to tell him what's going on," Martha reasoned. "He doesn't even have to leave the TARDIS."

"What, you're going to say you just rang him up for a chat?" Bennett was unimpressed. "'Want to pop round for lunch, Doctor, I've got a free hour'?"

Martha rolled her eyes. "Why not? It's happened before. Besides, from the way you're talking you sound like you wouldn't even want to meet him." At his affronted look, she grinned. "Don't lie, everyone here wants to meet the famous Doctor at least once. You're excited, I know you are."

Bennett fumbled for a response before finally smiling back, his shoulders sagging a little. "You've got me there, Martha. I'm just not looking forward to all the paperwork for when this does go tits up. And trust me, it will."

Martha hit the dial button on her mobile and listened for the ring. "You sound so sure," she muttered. "It won't. Hopefully."

She waved off Bennett's reply when she heard the line pick up and the Doctor's familiar voice come through the speaker. "Martha Jones! Hello! To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

She couldn't help but grin. The enthusiasm in his voice, however fake it could be given the circumstances, was infectious. "Hello, Doctor. How have you been?"

"Oh, me, I've been the usual--you know, traveling, seeing the universe, that sort of thing. Good as always. And yourself? How's Mister Milligan?"

"I'm fine, Doctor. He's--fine. Listen, Doctor, I need to ask a favor ..." Bennett was almost hopping in excitement next to her. She swatted a hand at him.

"A favor?" His voice took on that evasive tint she knew all too well, even though his words spoke differently. "I've got all the time in the world for favors, Martha. In the universe, really. And time, at that. Anyway, yes, a favor--what do you need?"

"I just--" She decided to go for broke and be honest. "I need to borrow the TARDIS. Not to do anything with it," she added hastily, "I just need it nearby for a little while. We're having a little bit of a translation problem here." Bennett snorted rudely.

"UNIT doesn't have something that will translate? Shame," the Doctor said. "I recall having all sorts of brilliant gadgets like that when I was around, I wonder where they went to ... Martha, I don't know about this."

"Doctor, please." She hated wheedling, especially in front of Bennett, as much as she liked the other man. "I hope you know I wouldn't ask unless it was crucial and there wasn't any other way."

The Doctor paused for a second, and when he spoke his voice was a touch softer. "Alright, Martha. But don't make this a habit! I don't let just anyone borrow my TARDIS."

"I know, I know," she said, and she was smiling again--she knew the Doctor was, too. "Do I need to tell you where I am?"

"Nah," he replied, and she could already hear the sounds of levers being pulled and dials turned. "You've got enough residual void stuff about you that I can use that to lock onto your location. UNIT headquarters, eh?"

"That's right," Martha affirmed. "Lower levels, in the detainment block."

"Not a good place. Alright, here we go, hit this button and--bam!--bob's your uncle, I'm there. See you in a jiffy, Martha Jones."

"Goodbye, Doctor." Smiling to herself, Martha ended the call and slipped her mobile back in her pocket. Before Bennett even had time to open his mouth she could hear the familiar wheezing sound of the TARDIS dematerializing down the hall. "That was quick," she muttered. Back outside the alien's cell, the two guards looked around in interest.

"It's nothing," Martha called out, wincing at the baldness of her lie. "I'll just--we'll be back in a second. Nothing to worry out." She raised her eyebrows at Bennett. "Let's go."

Together they followed the waning sounds of the TARDIS, Bennett trying and mildly failing not to look overeager. Two halls and one turn later, they found it in the back corner of an unused storage room. Martha grinned at Bennett. "Behave," she chided good-naturedly. "If you treat him like the god he's made out to be he'll start believing you."

"Who, me?" Bennett straightened his tie. "Don't worry, I'm a professional."

Martha laughed just as she heard the key turn in the lock on the inside of the TARDIS, and unconsciously stood a bit straighter. Then the door opened, and the Doctor came out--or at least Martha hoped it was the Doctor. She had never seen this man--or that outfit--before in her life. Beside her, Bennett seemed to know that this was not who they were expecting, and blinked in surprise. The stranger turned around after locking the door behind him and stopped short when he saw them; after a second his face relaxed into a cautious smile.

"Ah, a welcoming party!" he said brightly. "I find those to be more and more rare these days. Hello, I'm the Doctor--who might you be?"

All Martha and Bennett could do was blink open-mouthed in surprise.