prompt: oncoming_storms 109.3 - write about a mundane aspect of your life
It was just another day at work for Martha. As she'd learnt since joining UNIT, keeping the world safe involved entirely too much paperwork. Or, for Martha, it involved not doing paperwork and poking around the Internet. She propped her head on her hand and clicked around Facebook; she still hadn't lived down the time Jack had planted crops in the shape of a giant penis on her farm. Though she really wasn't sure where he was getting the time to be on Facebook, or why he would want to be there anyway. Granted, she wasn't sure what she was doing on Facebook, being an employee of a paramilitary organisation that had required her to sign a few reams of legally binding nondisclosure agreements.
...she was pretty sure it was the Flash games, though. And the reminder that some people out there got to live perfectly ordinary lives filled with perfectly ordinary things that didn't involve...
She stuck her head out the doorway and frowned at the small, furry puffballs that littered the floor of the corridor.
"Some people have cats," she muttered. "Or fish. Fish are great pets. They don't do anything." She gave the puffballs another reproachful look - not that it mattered, as nobody'd been able to locate eyes on the things. "They certainly don't reproduce by...I dunno, agamogenesis or anything."
"Are you talking to yourself again, Martha? You know they'll make you go in for a psych evaluation if they find out." Selena, Martha's Spanish neighbour, popped her head out into the hallway, too. "What're you doing for lunch, then?" Selena did...well, something with plants. Martha wasn't quite sure, and around UNIT, it was often best not to ask.
"I was thinking about going out and getting a salad. You?" She picked up a ginger furball and turned it over in her hands.
"Dunno, I brought a bit of leftover roast, but I could go for takeaway, too." She tipped her head at the furballs. "Bio-types sorted this lot out yet? We'll be up to our necks in 'em if they don't. Malcolm drew me a diagram of how they'd multiply exponentially. Little puffballs all over his whiteboard." Selena grinned, flashing white teeth at Martha. They both had a soft spot for Malcolm, the resident physics geek - and in the scientific department of a place like UNIT, being called a geek meant a lot.
"Nah, haven't got the genes sequenced yet, last I heard. Still, interesting way to conquer a world, I s'pose. Passively multiply till you kill off all the native species." Martha grimaced a little and tossed the puffball from hand to hand. "Cute little buggers, though."
Suddenly, Martha's mobile rang from her desk, and she smiled apologetically at Selena. "Shoot me an email about lunch, yeah?" She wheeled her chair back to her desk and picked up the phone.
"Hey, Martha, how's the spooky stuff going?" It was, not surprisingly, Tish; that was who called her at work nine times of ten.
"Oh, fantastic. Gave a few UFOs parking tickets, that sort of thing." Martha rolled her eyes and clicked into a Word document with her free hand so she would look almost productive if someone walked by. "What's going on?" There was always something going on when Tish called.
"Auntie Leila rang and said she's coming over for dinner, and Mum told me to see if you could make it. Apparently she's bringing pictures of Emmy's baby over." That was enough to make Martha groan; her mum's request was more of an order, and baby pictures meant that Martha and Tish would have to suffer through pointed comments about how she wanted more grandchildren.
"Yeah, all right, I'll be there." Martha gave a long-suffering sigh and hung up the phone, then eyed the papers on her desk some more, moved them around a bit, and decided to go get a fresh cup of coffee.
Muse: Martha Jones
Words: 672
Author's notes: Yes, I do make a regular habit of blatantly stealing others' aliens. It's fun.
YOU SAW NO HTML FAIL
...she was pretty sure it was the Flash games, though. And the reminder that some people out there got to live perfectly ordinary lives filled with perfectly ordinary things that didn't involve...
She stuck her head out the doorway and frowned at the small, furry puffballs that littered the floor of the corridor.
"Some people have cats," she muttered. "Or fish. Fish are great pets. They don't do anything." She gave the puffballs another reproachful look - not that it mattered, as nobody'd been able to locate eyes on the things. "They certainly don't reproduce by...I dunno, agamogenesis or anything."
"Are you talking to yourself again, Martha? You know they'll make you go in for a psych evaluation if they find out." Selena, Martha's Spanish neighbour, popped her head out into the hallway, too. "What're you doing for lunch, then?" Selena did...well, something with plants. Martha wasn't quite sure, and around UNIT, it was often best not to ask.
"I was thinking about going out and getting a salad. You?" She picked up a ginger furball and turned it over in her hands.
"Dunno, I brought a bit of leftover roast, but I could go for takeaway, too." She tipped her head at the furballs. "Bio-types sorted this lot out yet? We'll be up to our necks in 'em if they don't. Malcolm drew me a diagram of how they'd multiply exponentially. Little puffballs all over his whiteboard." Selena grinned, flashing white teeth at Martha. They both had a soft spot for Malcolm, the resident physics geek - and in the scientific department of a place like UNIT, being called a geek meant a lot.
"Nah, haven't got the genes sequenced yet, last I heard. Still, interesting way to conquer a world, I s'pose. Passively multiply till you kill off all the native species." Martha grimaced a little and tossed the puffball from hand to hand. "Cute little buggers, though."
Suddenly, Martha's mobile rang from her desk, and she smiled apologetically at Selena. "Shoot me an email about lunch, yeah?" She wheeled her chair back to her desk and picked up the phone.
"Hey, Martha, how's the spooky stuff going?" It was, not surprisingly, Tish; that was who called her at work nine times of ten.
"Oh, fantastic. Gave a few UFOs parking tickets, that sort of thing." Martha rolled her eyes and clicked into a Word document with her free hand so she would look almost productive if someone walked by. "What's going on?" There was always something going on when Tish called.
"Auntie Leila rang and said she's coming over for dinner, and Mum told me to see if you could make it. Apparently she's bringing pictures of Emmy's baby over." That was enough to make Martha groan; her mum's request was more of an order, and baby pictures meant that Martha and Tish would have to suffer through pointed comments about how she wanted more grandchildren.
"Yeah, all right, I'll be there." Martha gave a long-suffering sigh and hung up the phone, then eyed the papers on her desk some more, moved them around a bit, and decided to go get a fresh cup of coffee.
Muse: Martha Jones
Words: 672
Author's notes: Yes, I do make a regular habit of blatantly stealing others' aliens. It's fun.
YOU SAW NO HTML FAIL