An uncomfortable silence wound around the two for a few moments. "So, forgot to ask," Martha started, attempting small talk, "but why exactly are you dressed... well, like that?" She gestured at the dark leather jacket and matching pants. "Just seems a bit odd, I mean... what with you thinking you're..."

"I can dress however I like," Rose - Emily, she had to remember that; she'd told Martha her name was Emily - interrupted. "Besides, my boyfriend drives a motorbike, so sometimes I like to dress the part when he asks me to ride with 'im." The lies were coming easily now.

"And this boyfriend is-" Martha prompted.

"Yes. If I'm carrying a child, it's definitely his."

"What does he think?"

"Come again?"

"Your boyfriend. D'you think he'd want to be a dad, or...?" Martha trailed off, not sure whether it was proper to be asking such a question. She'd been trying to make polite conversation to fill the quiet, not become this woman's best friend.

Rose - Emily - hesitated before she replied. How would the Doctor react? He'd always teased her for her inclination toward domesticity. But then again, when they'd found themselves on a planet orbitting a black hole, in a space station filled with Ood, he hadn't been against settling down. Then again, maybe that's because he honestly thought they were trapped there - no TARDIS to wisk them away, standing upon an impossible planet.

Adding a child to the mix was another unknown. Oh sure, the Doctor adored children: she'd known him to be extraordinarily protective of them, and he never dismissed what they had to say. But a child of his own? How would he respond?

"Sorry, never mind," Martha said hurriedly. "Personal question. Trust me to be daft and busy asking silly questions when my thoughts are on the moon."

"It's fine," Rose/Emily replied. "My thoughts have been elsewhere as well."