Spoilers: through the end of New Who S4
Disclaimer: Not Mine
Summary: "How'd you get my phone number?" "UNIT." "Figures."
Author’s notes: Written for the schmoop_bingo doubles challenge, combining the prompts "Looking At The Stars" and "Engagement."
"The Sky At Stonehenge"
They met at Tides’ End – as the battle is called by the tiny sliver of humanity that ever knew the battle happened in the first place. Martha was still engaged to Tom then, though starting to wonder if a man’s purity of sacrifice in another timeline was really worth putting up with his overwhelming snooker obsession in this one. Mickey was single and beginning to believe that it would always be so.
She saved his life by clamping her car’s jumper cables onto a Dalek, which is easier said than done, but not impossible. He thought it showed moxie. After the smoke had cleared, he asked her to dinner, but she told him she was engaged. He was still thinking about her when, six weeks later, she called him and said she was more single than she used to be.
“How’d you get my number?”
They’re very different people. Martha went to the best university and medical school in the country; Mickey did two years at a polytechnic. Martha spent her gap year backpacking around Southeast Asia; Mickey’s never traveled on his own (and no, the TARDIS doesn’t count as “on his own.”) His entire library would fit on one of her bookshelves, if she had any space left over for more books, which she doesn’t. It’s not an obvious match.
Honestly, both of them went into it figuring it would be mostly about the sex. Neither of them could fail to notice that the other was outrageously hot, and "outrageously hot" plus "willing to risk life to protect the planet" equals "worth a couple of amazing shags," right?
But on their first night together, Martha started talking about some odd stories the Doctor told her about Stonehenge, and Mickey said she was full of it, and they ended up driving all the way out there to check. To their mutual surprise, there were no guard-rails, no security gates. They were able to get out of Martha’s car and walk directly into the vast stone circles.
It was past eleven, by then. No one else was around, and the silence nearly complete. The vastness of Stonehenge and the eerie sense of other-ness that emanated from the place reminded both of them of the more extraordinary aspects of their lives. When Martha sat on the dewy ground in the center of the rings, looking up at the near-full moon, Mickey took his place beside her. The constellations arced over them, silent illustrations of myths and legends no stranger than their truths.
“We were up there,” he said. “In the thick of it.”
“It was more inspiring, there. But sometimes, I think it’s more beautiful here. Even though we only see the stars through clouds, staying still, imperfectly – it’s lovelier. I can’t say why.”
“You don’t have to. I get it. You’re right. Never thought of it that way, but – yeah, that’s it.”
If there were one single moment that made Mickey realize he was going to fall in love with Martha – that she was, in fact, the woman he was going to marry – it was that one: the moment when he realized that he would never have to explain the strangest moments of his life to her, or hide them from her, either. The weirdness and sadness and joy of traveling the universe – in the company of someone who never saw you for what you were and yet was dear to you all the same – Martha knew that, inside and out.
If there were one single moment that made Martha realize she was going to say yes when Mickey proposed – well, it wasn’t that one. It came later that night, in her bed, when she realized his greatest talent wasn’t actually fighting Daleks. But that moment looking at the stars at Stonehenge definitely helped.