The Doctor gazed at Rose, sitting beside him and showing him photographs of her family. He wasn't really listening to her stories, instead just relishing the opportunity to observe the girl he loved. Her hair was a little different now, shorter and neater, and she was wearing what she called 'work clothes', a shirt and skirt, which clung, alluringly to her figure. He wondered when he would tell her how he felt. It was difficult not to just lean down now and kiss her, but he wanted that moment, if it ever happened, to be somewhere special and memorable. It was not often that he told women that he was in love with them.
Martha's voice interrupted his reverie. 'Doctor, can we go to London? My mum called, I want to go home for a bit.'
'Yes, of course,' he replied, standing up reluctantly. Looking towards Martha, he was puzzled by the multitude of bags by her feet. 'Rose, could you go and put the kettle on please?'
When Rose had left the room, he approached his new companion. 'What's going on?'
'Nothing,' she said, but he could see the tension in her face.
'Martha, you've packed all of your stuff.'
Her eyes dropped to the floor and she sighed deeply. 'I just want to go home for a while.'
'A while? What's the matter?'
'Nothing, I'm fine!' Her eyes were glistening now. He patted her arm, trying to be reassuring, but she shrugged away.
'Come on Martha. Is it Rose?' Perhaps she was jealous, he thought.
'No! No, it's not that. It's just…Look, Doctor, I just can't be around you two.'
'Why? I know I haven't spoken to you much today, but she's just come back. We can all travel together, it'll be fine!'
'No, it won't. I can't stand to watch you being the happy couple.'
'We're not a couple! We are just friends.' He was aware that his voice had become quite defensive. Martha had picked up on his true feelings…but he still did not understand why it upset her so much.
'Maybe, but you obviously want more than just that. You love her Doctor, and I don't think that's going to change any time soon. Unfortunately.'
'Martha?'
'Doctor, I…I have feelings for you. I like you, a lot. I don't want to go, but being around you and her is too much for me. I can't just switch off my emotions, so I have to leave.'
'Well,' he began, unsure what to say. She was right, and he couldn't persuade her to change her mind.
'Maybe I'll give you a call one day. I've had an amazing time, and I'm really grateful. I'm sorry that I have to go like this.' Her voice was cracking now, as tears streamed down her cheeks. The Doctor embraced her for a few moments, until she pulled away. She took the TARDIS key from her pocket and offered to him.
'Keep it. Come back whenever you like.' He tried to smile at her, to show some sympathy, but her eyes remained sad. She nodded at him, picked up her bags, and walked through the doors to the street outside her home.
'Is everything OK?' Rose entered the console room, carrying two cups of tea. She approached the Doctor, concerned. He looked like he might cry, but upon seeing her, brightened up in his usual way. He always bottled his feelings away, she had come to realise.
'Yes, yes, fine. Martha needed to go home for a while.' Rose knew that he was not being entirely honest. She entertained the thought that Martha was jealous of her and had left because of that. Perhaps she should change the subject: he liked to do that when he felt sad.
'So, where are we going now?'
He paused, and then exclaimed, 'Barcelona!'