Martha meets the Doctor

It was her first year at university and Martha Jones was already dreading her first pre-med course. Not because she felt the material was too difficult for her but because of the other students.

Her ears still burned when she remembered her last year of upper school. All the looks she got from her fellow students after her eighteenth birthday. Heck, the looks she got from many of her fellow students on her eighteenth birthday. Even from the girls. If she had known that simply blowing out the candles on her birthday party was going to cause so many problems with her -- ahem -- wardrobe, she would have celebrated her birthday at home.

Fortunately, the day was warm enough that she did not need to wear little more than shoes and a rucksack. Which was a good thing since those seemed to be the only things she could wear nowadays. Okay, she could still wear jewelry and wristwatches. She could even wear a scarf or a hat. And gloves. But every time she put on anything else, she automatically took it off again. It did not matter how often her mother punished her. It did not matter how many catty remarks she got from her two siblings Leo and Tish. It did not even matter how often she got arrested for indecent exposure.

Finally her father had gotten her a certificate from the local branch of the National Health that declared her to be the victim of an unusual medical condition, thus freeing her from further legal hassles. Unfortunately, no doctor she had seen thus far could cure this "medical condition" but that just gave Martha one more incentive to go on with her childhood plans for medical school. After all, just because they could not find a cure didn't mean that she couldn't.

In any event, she had no sooner stepped on campus when she spied a blue police box near the entrance of the nearest building. A brown-haired guy in a brown pinstripe suit came out of the police box. He certainly did not look like a policeman. And the way he was holding a funny-looking metal stick certainly did not make it look like he was engaged on police business.

"You there," he said to Martha Jones. "Is this the 26th century?"

Martha did a double take. You certainly don't hear questions like that every day, she thought.

"No," she replied, immediately covering herself. "Why do you ask?"

"I thought I had arrived at the 21st century but I did not realize that the traditional taboo against public nudity had been relaxed this early," said the man.

"Er, it hasn't," said Martha. "But you see, I have this condition --"

"Have you now?" said the man. "By the way, I'm the Doctor."

He extended a hand which Martha reluctantly shook, still vainly attempting to shield her nakedness from the view of the man who called himself the Doctor.

"I'm Martha Jones," she replied.

"Glad to meet you, Martha Jones," said the Doctor. "I hope you can help me out."

I bet you do, thought Martha. Then she noticed that the Doctor didn't seem to be particularly interested in looking at her. And when he talked to her, he actually looked her in the face. It seemed like ages since she saw any man who wasn't a relative do that.

Perhaps this Doctor is not such a bad chap, she thought.

But before she could follow up on that thought, the Doctor was already rushing off. And for some strange reason -- curiosity, maybe -- Martha felt tempted to follow him.