(Untitled)

[emptyyourself]

Who: Severus Snape and Martha Jones
What: Medical examination / Stitches
When: Day 52
Where: The clinic.

Comments

[thegooddrjones]

Martha really didn't want to deal with this today. She really didn't want to have to have to deal with a stranger wearing a familiar face when she was already feeling rather twisted up inside. The Doctor and Jack were both here now, and that had been brilliant right up until the moment when West had come across the telly had tossed Jim's tape into the fire.

Jim and Erik, two people who'd been her friend. Two of her friends were gone, and one would could have been... Well, at least she had been spared telling him about it. Poor Jim, Martha had really been very fond of him, but she definitely hadn't been in love with him. But she was still angry by the way that West had seemingly careless replaced them.

Wearing the uniform of the nurse, but carrying the mask on her arm like a sort of purse, Martha stood outside the office and took a deep breath, waiting for Severus Snape to show up and the battle that would be soon to follow.

[emptyyourself]

As he approached the office, he steeled himself. This was the first time he'd seen her (as an adult) since his arrival. He hadn't remembered her then - he'd found himself in town square feeling the wound in his neck and had immediately flashed back on Nagini. Everything that had occurred in between seemed like an hallucination - nothing more than a dream

[thegooddrjones]

When she saw him coming, Martha quickly swallowed and then composed her face quickly into the one of polite inquiry that she typically wore when she was acting in her professional capacity as a doctor. As a doctor at home, of course. Here, she was dressed as a nurse because West was a sexist arse. The only reason she'd slipped into this horrible white dress thing was because of the fact that she didn't trust West not to have locked the door unless she was wearing what he'd given her to wear

[emptyyourself]

Following her in, he wondered vaguely about the mask in his pocket - and, too, whether either of them needed masks, with the ones they were already wearing. He could see that she was playing a role, almost as much as he was.

But why? This was unlike her except in circumstances in which she felt hurt. Did she simply miss his friendship?

It occurred to him, then, that he was in a very beneficial position in more ways that one. Perhaps now that he'd pushed her away, he could wheedle information out of her.

As he seated himself as directed, he said - in a remarkable civil tone, "I do...appreciate your efforts."