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“Martha, what have we got? Is there a balcony on this floor, or a veranda, or...?” The Doctor asked, already in full problem-solving mode.

“By the patients' lounge, yeah.” Martha answered. The Doctor turned to her with a smile.

“Fancy going out?”

“Okay.”

“We might die.”

“We might not.”

Satisfied with her answer, the Doctor flashed a grin, starting for the door. “Good. Come on. Not her, she'd hold us up.”

“Wait- me?” Charlie asked from the back of the room, running to catch up with him.

“No, not you,” he replied with a frown.

“So I don't have to follow you?” She said, almost too brightly, as she caught up to him.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, tugging her along.

Martha Jones was standing on the moon.
Well, not really. She was standing on a veranda on the moon, but who could say they've ever done that? Everything was still, silent- she could see the Earth in the distance, make out the continents etched into the surface. It all looked so tiny. She took a deep, shuddering breath and glanced towards the two hospital patients- Mr. Smith and the young woman, Charlene Bennett.

“We've got air. How does that work?” She asked.

The Doctor was staring out at the unmoving landscape, looking for something. He really was a confusing person- first with the anecdote about Benjamin Franklin earlier that morning, and how he could be in the middle of absolute chaos and still be perfectly calm.

“Just be glad it does,” He said, still staring out at nothing in particular. If he hadn't answered her question, Martha would've thought he didn't even know she was there. Silently, she stared back out at the surface of the moon.

It really was magnificent in it's own right- full of pits and towering peaks of crooked rock that threw deep, jagged shadows over the ground. Idly, she wished she had a camera.

“I've got a party tonight,” She said, her voice sounding shallow and small to her own ears. “It's my brother's twenty first. My mother's going to be really, really...”

“You okay?” The Doctor asked.

“Yeah.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Really puts things in perspective, doesn't it?” The woman, Charlene, said from the corner of the veranda. “Makes all the normal, day to day things seem... insignificant. Makes them seem like nothing.”

“Yeah... it... yeah,” Martha said faintly. It was true- from here, looking down at the earth, her brother's tiny party in one meaningless club really seemed smaller than ever. Boring. Pointless. Kind of sad.

“I know how it feels,” Charlene said softly.

“Want to go back in?” The Doctor asked.

“No way.” Martha shook her head and smiled. “I mean, we could die any minute, but all the same, it's beautiful.”

“Do you think?”

“How many people want to go to the moon? And here we are,” she said, amazed. There was a faint sliver of doubt in the back of her mind, though. Here they were, on the moon, and Mr. Smith and Charlene didn't look the least bit shocked, or awed, or even a little scared. Like this was an average day for them.

“Standing in the Earthlight,” The Doctor murmured.

“What do you think happened?”

“Oh, I'll tell you what he thinks happened,” Charlene snapped waspishly, folding her arms and glaring at the Doctor.

He shot her a warning look before turning back to Martha. “What do you think?”

“Extraterrestrial. It's got to be,” She said, I don't know, a few years ago that would have sounded mad, but these days? That spaceship flying into Big Ben, Christmas, those Cybermen things.” She sighed. “I had a cousin. Adeola. She worked at Canary Wharf. She never came home.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“I was there, in the battle. It was...” He glanced back out at the surface of the moon with a sigh, leaning on the railing.

“I promise you, Mr. Smith, Miss Bennett, we will find a way out,” Martha said. “If we can travel to the moon, then we can travel back. There's got to be a way.”

“It's not Smith. That's not my real name,” He said, walking over to the side of the veranda and leaning over to look beneath it.

“Who are you, then?”

“I'm the Doctor.”

“And, ah, it's not Bennett, either,” Charlene said sheepishly.

Martha fought back a smile and tried to keep her tone at least partially serious. She never realized how difficult it was to keep a straight face when two adults were masquerading around as secret agents, or something along those lines. “So what are you, the secret agent duo?”

“Well, uh, no,” Charlene said awkwardly, “I just don't like being called “Miss Bennett.”

“Alright, so, Charlene.”

“Charlie.”

“Alright, moving on!” The Doctor said, clapping his hands twice to get their attention. “Let's have a look. There must be some sort of....” He picked up a piece of rubble and hurled it into the open air. A few metres out, it hit something, a blue ripple of light spreading across the seemingly empty air. “Forcefield keeping the air in,” he finished.

“But if that's like a bubble sealing us in,” Martha began, a tiny crease in her brow as she thought, “That means this is the only air we've got. What happens when it runs out?”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she already knew the answer.

“How many people in this hospital?” The Doctor asked.

“I don't know. A thousand?”

“One thousand people... suffocating.”

“Why would anyone do that?” She asked, horrified. Things were starting to feel a little surreal, now- she'd heard about all the hostile extraterrestrial activity, but to be caught in the middle of it?

“Head's up! Ask them yourself.” The Doctor said, glancing up as a fleet of giant, cylindrical spaceships flew over the top of the hospital, touching down a few hundred meters away.

“Aliens. That's aliens. Real, proper aliens,” Martha mumbled, as columns of figures in gleaming black spacesuits begain a rhythmic march towards them.

“Judoon.” The Doctor murmured.

“What is it then, Doctor Smith?” Martha asked, as they hurried down the stairs towards the bottom floor.

“Just the Doctor.”

“How do you mean, just the Doctor?”

“Just... the Doctor.”

“What, people call you the Doctor?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I'm not. As far as I'm concerned, you've got to earn that title,” She said with a funny sort of smile.
The Doctor glanced at her,. “Well, I'd better make a start, then,” He said, grabbing her's and Charlie's hands and pulling them down behind a potted plant.

“You'd think you'd have better things to talk about than what he wants to be called,” Charlie grumbled in hushed tones, scooting around to get a good look at what was going on. Judoon, the Doctor had said. Super-duper space police. Fantastic, She thought dryly. Hunting for anything that's not from Earth. Wonder what I'd be classified as, seeing as I'm not even from this universe.

Down below, the Judoon marched among the patients and doctors, starting their catalog.

“Oh look,” The Doctor whispered, pointing to a little sovenir booth. “You've got a little shop. I like a little shop.” He smiled.

Charlie sighed, rolling her eyes. For some reason she didn't feel the need to make another cutting comment. Frankly, there were more important things to be worried about. Like, how to stay hidden from the Judoon.

“Never mind that,” Martha whispered back, nudging him with her elbow. “What are the Judoon?”

“Super-duper space police,” Charlie muttered quietly. “Really thick super-duper space police.”

“More like interplanitary thugs,” The Doctor amended.

“Why are they here?”

He turned to Charlie with a frown. “Because they're looking for her.”

“Are not,” She protested.

“Are too.”

“Are not!”

“Then why are you hiding behind a plant?”

“Because I was following you!”

“Yes, and now you're going to stop following me and go turn yourself in!”

“Alright, alright,” Martha said cautiously. “Why don't we all just calm down, yeah? Innocent until proven guilty, right?”

Charlie shot a glare at the Doctor and folded her arms. “Yeah.”

“So, is anyone going to tell me why they,” She pointed at the alien troops below, “Brought us to the moon?”
The Doctor stopped glaring at Charlie for a moment. “Neutral territory. According to galactic law, they've got no jurisdiction over the Earth, and they isolated it. That rain, lightning? That was them, using an H2O scoop,” he explained.

“What are you on about, galactic law? Where'd you get that from? If they're police, are we under arrest? Are we trespassing on the moon or something?” Martha fired off one question after another, and the Doctor smiled faintly.

“No, but I like that. Good thinking. No, I wish it were that simple. They're making a catalogue. That means they're after something non human,” He glared pointedly at Charlie, “which is very bad news for me.”
“Why?” Martha asked, as realization hit her. “Oh, you're kidding me. Don't be ridiculous.”
The Doctor looked her in the eye.

“That's not his ridiculous face,” Charlie said unhelpfully. “He's being serious.”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Martha frowned. “But if you're an alien,” She said, rolling her eyes, “How do we know the things down there aren't looking for you?”

“Good point,” Charlie nodded. Of course, she knew the Doctor was innocent from what she remembered from the old TV show, but she couldn't exactly tell him that. The whole dimension-travel business needed to be kept under wraps for as long as possible, she decided. Which meant steering clear of the Judoon- they'd have the technology available in their scanners to classify her as an ultraterrestrial.

“Oh... fine,” The Doctor said, exasperated. “I trust you, you trust me, and we all head to the computers so we can see what they're looking for. Let's go.”

Description
“Martha, what have we got? Is there a balcony on this floor, or a veranda, or...?” The Doctor asked, already in full problem-solving mode.

“By the patients' lounge, yeah.” Martha answered. The Doctor turned to her with a smile.

“Fancy going out?”

“Okay.”

“We might die.”

“We might not.”

Satisfied with her answer, the Doctor flashed a grin, starting for the door. “Good. Come on. Not her, she'd hold us up.”

“Wait- me?” Charlie asked from the back of the room, running to catch up with him.

“No, not you,” he replied with a frown.

“So I don't have to follow you?” She said, almost too brightly, as she caught up to him.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, tugging her along.

Martha Jones was standing on the moon.
Well, not really. She was standing on a veranda on the moon, but who could say they've ever done that? Everything was still, silent- she could see the Earth in the distance, make out the continents etched into the surface. It all looked so tiny. She took a deep, shuddering breath and glanced towards the two hospital patients- Mr. Smith and the young woman, Charlene Bennett.

“We've got air. How does that work?” She asked.

The Doctor was staring out at the unmoving landscape, looking for something. He really was a confusing person- first with the anecdote about Benjamin Franklin earlier that morning, and how he could be in the middle of absolute chaos and still be perfectly calm.

“Just be glad it does,” He said, still staring out at nothing in particular. If he hadn't answered her question, Martha would've thought he didn't even know she was there. Silently, she stared back out at the surface of the moon.

It really was magnificent in it's own right- full of pits and towering peaks of crooked rock that threw deep, jagged shadows over the ground. Idly, she wished she had a camera.

“I've got a party tonight,” She said, her voice sounding shallow and small to her own ears. “It's my brother's twenty first. My mother's going to be really, really...”

“You okay?” The Doctor asked.

“Yeah.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Really puts things in perspective, doesn't it?” The woman, Charlene, said from the corner of the veranda. “Makes all the normal, day to day things seem... insignificant. Makes them seem like nothing.”

“Yeah... it... yeah,” Martha said faintly. It was true- from here, looking down at the earth, her brother's tiny party in one meaningless club really seemed smaller than ever. Boring. Pointless. Kind of sad.

“I know how it feels,” Charlene said softly.

“Want to go back in?” The Doctor asked.

“No way.” Martha shook her head and smiled. “I mean, we could die any minute, but all the same, it's beautiful.”

“Do you think?”

“How many people want to go to the moon? And here we are,” she said, amazed. There was a faint sliver of doubt in the back of her mind, though. Here they were, on the moon, and Mr. Smith and Charlene didn't look the least bit shocked, or awed, or even a little scared. Like this was an average day for them.

“Standing in the Earthlight,” The Doctor murmured.

“What do you think happened?”

“Oh, I'll tell you what he thinks happened,” Charlene snapped waspishly, folding her arms and glaring at the Doctor.

He shot her a warning look before turning back to Martha. “What do you think?”

“Extraterrestrial. It's got to be,” She said, I don't know, a few years ago that would have sounded mad, but these days? That spaceship flying into Big Ben, Christmas, those Cybermen things.” She sighed. “I had a cousin. Adeola. She worked at Canary Wharf. She never came home.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“I was there, in the battle. It was...” He glanced back out at the surface of the moon with a sigh, leaning on the railing.

“I promise you, Mr. Smith, Miss Bennett, we will find a way out,” Martha said. “If we can travel to the moon, then we can travel back. There's got to be a way.”

“It's not Smith. That's not my real name,” He said, walking over to the side of the veranda and leaning over to look beneath it.

“Who are you, then?”

“I'm the Doctor.”

“And, ah, it's not Bennett, either,” Charlene said sheepishly.

Martha fought back a smile and tried to keep her tone at least partially serious. She never realized how difficult it was to keep a straight face when two adults were masquerading around as secret agents, or something along those lines. “So what are you, the secret agent duo?”

“Well, uh, no,” Charlene said awkwardly, “I just don't like being called “Miss Bennett.”

“Alright, so, Charlene.”

“Charlie.”

“Alright, moving on!” The Doctor said, clapping his hands twice to get their attention. “Let's have a look. There must be some sort of....” He picked up a piece of rubble and hurled it into the open air. A few metres out, it hit something, a blue ripple of light spreading across the seemingly empty air. “Forcefield keeping the air in,” he finished.

“But if that's like a bubble sealing us in,” Martha began, a tiny crease in her brow as she thought, “That means this is the only air we've got. What happens when it runs out?”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she already knew the answer.

“How many people in this hospital?” The Doctor asked.

“I don't know. A thousand?”

“One thousand people... suffocating.”

“Why would anyone do that?” She asked, horrified. Things were starting to feel a little surreal, now- she'd heard about all the hostile extraterrestrial activity, but to be caught in the middle of it?

“Head's up! Ask them yourself.” The Doctor said, glancing up as a fleet of giant, cylindrical spaceships flew over the top of the hospital, touching down a few hundred meters away.

“Aliens. That's aliens. Real, proper aliens,” Martha mumbled, as columns of figures in gleaming black spacesuits begain a rhythmic march towards them.

“Judoon.” The Doctor murmured.

“What is it then, Doctor Smith?” Martha asked, as they hurried down the stairs towards the bottom floor.

“Just the Doctor.”

“How do you mean, just the Doctor?”

“Just... the Doctor.”

“What, people call you the Doctor?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I'm not. As far as I'm concerned, you've got to earn that title,” She said with a funny sort of smile.
The Doctor glanced at her,. “Well, I'd better make a start, then,” He said, grabbing her's and Charlie's hands and pulling them down behind a potted plant.

“You'd think you'd have better things to talk about than what he wants to be called,” Charlie grumbled in hushed tones, scooting around to get a good look at what was going on. Judoon, the Doctor had said. Super-duper space police. Fantastic, She thought dryly. Hunting for anything that's not from Earth. Wonder what I'd be classified as, seeing as I'm not even from this universe.

Down below, the Judoon marched among the patients and doctors, starting their catalog.

“Oh look,” The Doctor whispered, pointing to a little sovenir booth. “You've got a little shop. I like a little shop.” He smiled.

Charlie sighed, rolling her eyes. For some reason she didn't feel the need to make another cutting comment. Frankly, there were more important things to be worried about. Like, how to stay hidden from the Judoon.

“Never mind that,” Martha whispered back, nudging him with her elbow. “What are the Judoon?”

“Super-duper space police,” Charlie muttered quietly. “Really thick super-duper space police.”

“More like interplanitary thugs,” The Doctor amended.

“Why are they here?”

He turned to Charlie with a frown. “Because they're looking for her.”

“Are not,” She protested.

“Are too.”

“Are not!”

“Then why are you hiding behind a plant?”

“Because I was following you!”

“Yes, and now you're going to stop following me and go turn yourself in!”

“Alright, alright,” Martha said cautiously. “Why don't we all just calm down, yeah? Innocent until proven guilty, right?”

Charlie shot a glare at the Doctor and folded her arms. “Yeah.”

“So, is anyone going to tell me why they,” She pointed at the alien troops below, “Brought us to the moon?”
The Doctor stopped glaring at Charlie for a moment. “Neutral territory. According to galactic law, they've got no jurisdiction over the Earth, and they isolated it. That rain, lightning? That was them, using an H2O scoop,” he explained.

“What are you on about, galactic law? Where'd you get that from? If they're police, are we under arrest? Are we trespassing on the moon or something?” Martha fired off one question after another, and the Doctor smiled faintly.

“No, but I like that. Good thinking. No, I wish it were that simple. They're making a catalogue. That means they're after something non human,” He glared pointedly at Charlie, “which is very bad news for me.”
“Why?” Martha asked, as realization hit her. “Oh, you're kidding me. Don't be ridiculous.”
The Doctor looked her in the eye.

“That's not his ridiculous face,” Charlie said unhelpfully. “He's being serious.”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Martha frowned. “But if you're an alien,” She said, rolling her eyes, “How do we know the things down there aren't looking for you?”

“Good point,” Charlie nodded. Of course, she knew the Doctor was innocent from what she remembered from the old TV show, but she couldn't exactly tell him that. The whole dimension-travel business needed to be kept under wraps for as long as possible, she decided. Which meant steering clear of the Judoon- they'd have the technology available in their scanners to classify her as an ultraterrestrial.

“Oh... fine,” The Doctor said, exasperated. “I trust you, you trust me, and we all head to the computers so we can see what they're looking for. Let's go.”