Disclaimer: No, unfortunately Doctor Who doesn't belong to me. I'd love to be able to make Martha and the Doctor fall madly and passionately in love in the show, but the real owners are EVIL and the Doctor is still loved up with Rose.

A.N: I've also got to beg forgiveness for how long this took. I had a chapter written, and then I went and lost it, like the genius I am. That was a blessing in disguise however, because I think this one is better.

Martha did a thing she rarely did, being the professional she was. She swore. Loudly. The blood was rapidly spreading across Donna's shirt, and Jack's too.

It was clear that all was lost unless the Doctor performed a miracle. He gripped her shoulder painfully hard, and seconds passed. "Open that door!" Jack hissed urgently, seeing the need to galvanize the Doctor into action.

The Doctor shook his head to clear it, and wrenched the TARDIS' doors open in a way that he would have horribly killed anyone else for.

Jack swept in, the others followed. Martha hesitated before going in. Was that eyes she could see amongst the trees?

She then followed a trail of blood to the TARDIS med-room. The Doctor was for once acting like a doctor.

He'd got Donna onto a bed, and seemed to be organising a blood transfusion. Martha made a mental note to ask him what blood was doing on the TARDIS.

"What took you?" he asked. "I thought I saw eyes in the trees out there." Martha replied, pulling gloves on, and starting to clean the wound.

"Why would they follow us?" Jack asked as he brought over an armful of bandages. "If they did." The Doctor said sceptically. "May have been hysteria." Martha scowled. She'd known he wouldn't believe her.

She picked out bullet, thanking her stars it hadn't been in deep. The Doctor set up Donna with the bag, already knowing her group. Martha was impressed at how fast he'd ran tests.

Then he froze. Martha raised an eyebrow. So far as she could tell, everything was fine...unless the idiot had given Donna the wrong blood.

"Did you..." Martha began dangerously. Jack however noted the direction of the Doctor's gaze and interrupted. "Why are you staring at the bullet, Doctor?" "It's black."

Martha and Jack exchanged looks. They'd known a day would come when old age caught up with the Doctor, but they'd given him at least a few more decades.

"Yes, Doctor. Now how some rest?" "I'm not crazy!" The Doctor snapped, knowing full well what they were thinking. "Sometimes vampires either poison their bullets, or do something to change their victim into a vampire. Silver for poison. Black... for vampire."

Jack left for the library, muttering something about cures and 'holidays' with the Doctor. "How do we know?" Martha asked. "When we wake up with fangs in our necks." replied the Doctor.

"Before we're all dead!" she snapped, scowling at him. "All the signs are useless right now. She'll go unusually pale; right now you don't know what's sheet and what's her face. Her mouth will ache; unconscious. She'll develop a taste for meat, bloody towards the end; unconscious."

"Donna already loves meat." Martha groaned. A sign was already useless. Granted that didn't really matter, but it was still depressing.

Suddenly an alarming judder rocked the TARDIS. "JACK?!" The Doctor yelled. "It wasn't me!" Jack called indignantly. "I was checking if you were OK, you idiot!"

Martha rolled her eyes, mouthing 'Guys.' She made to go to the door, but the Doctor stopped her. "I think there was a lot more to those eyes than vampires." "The eyes that were down to hysteria?! Anyway, like what?"

"Police." he sighed. "I'm rather afraid that clearing may have been 'sacred', and consequently, 'restricted.' My enemies with connections might jump at the chance to use this and my...eh...colourful past to get me."

"So to summarise," Martha began, in a voice that didn't sound good to the Doctor, "You likely have a prison sentence hanging over your head which will probably end up in us all going down and a possible vampire sharing the ship with us! This cannot get-" Jack clapped his hand over mouth. "Don't."

Martha's reply was interrupted with what seemed to be bombs dropping outside. "We're out of here." The Doctor said, sweeping through to the console room. Jack remained to attempt to salvage Martha's sanity. Neither noticed as Donna's skin even paler, and she clapped her hand to her mouth in pain.

The Doctor strode quickly down the corridor, the urgency draining from him with every step. He eventually slowed to a walk, deep in thought. He often buried himself in 'adventure' to prevent his thoughts rising; it was an inevitable consequence that in his rare quiet moments that they surfaced.

And taking into account how things were usually, this sadly was quiet for him. He slowed to a complete halt just as he reached the console room. Biting his lip he walked to the console room, laying one hand upon the namesake of the room.

He was unsure why, but he always felt closest to the TARDIS here of all places. A sense of calm returned to him as he stood in that position, his eyes closed, mind blank.

Footsteps brought him out of his reverie, and he groaned softly, seeing Martha approaching. She was definitely...prominent in his thoughts. He looked up properly and saw that she was looking happy- not entirely characteristic in such situations.

She ran the final few steps and pulled him into one of the familiar embraces. "What's up?" he asked softly. "Apart from alien forces out for our blood?" she asked merrily. The Doctor immediately pulled away from her, and eyed her worriedly. Martha wasn't one to bow under pressure- but now it seemed as if she'd cracked.

"What's up?" he repeated, looking very worried. The one person in the crew who could safely claim complete sanity, insane? "Don't worry...Donna's conscious, and not remotely vampiric!" "Define vampiric..." the Doctor muttered, walking away.

Martha considered his back. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected. In fact, his body-language indicated things were very wrong. "Well, what is it?" she demanded, forcing him to turn round by tugging his arm.

"I..don't...think..." he muttered vaguely, his eyes unfocused. "I'll say..." He made at a face at her that was at odds with his supposed level of maturity. "I don't think this tribe uses the bullets." he muttered. "How many vampire tribes do you know?!" Martha hissed, unable to comprehend the statement completely. This was important, her brain decided.

The Doctor attempted to back away, well aware of what was going on. He was afraid that Martha would be too, soon. Her hand immediately snapped out grabbing him. Evidently she knew he was in some way connected.

It was probably fortunate for the Doctor that when Martha gained it, she couldn't do much with her new found enlightenment. This was because of the second blast that sent shock-waves through the TARDIS.

She and the Doctor were knocked to their feet, being near the epicentre. "Oof!" "Sorry..." The shaking over, Martha realised that the soft, but bony thing that had broken her fall was in fact the unfortunate Doctor.

'Hell, that's a good thing. And we're still not even.' she thought sourly. The Doctor looked dazedly up at her, and opened his mouth to say something, possibly; 'Please get up; you're crushing my major internal organs- maybe one of my hearts...'

But as he made eye contact, something happened in his throat and the sentence died a premature death. His hazel eyes met her brown ones; confused met angry.

"Are we going anywhere?!" suddenly floated through from the medical room. The Doctor muttered a neutered version of his earlier sentence, sans complaints about crushed hearts.

That last sentence has a double meaning in my opinion. Thought it'd be a nice place to close my now extended chapter. If you read the older one, do tell me if this is better or worse for my interference. Onwards, now!