Martha was washing dishes and didn't turn round when she heard the sound of a TARDIS materialising behind her.
"No, I'm not coming with you. Not even just for one trip. Sorry."
"I hadn't been planning to ask," said Romana, who was standing incongruously in Martha's kitchen wearing a blue dress and riding boots.
"I'd been planning to offer you a job."
"What do you do now?"
"I'm a doctor."
"That will never do. I had a doctor working with me once before. You could be my assistant?"
Martha arched an eyebrow at Romana. "Assistant? If it wasn't for me you'd have been eaten by that giant squid."
"And if it wasn't for you and your friends at Torchwood that giant squid would have stayed in the oceanic trench where it belonged."
"Partners?" Romana extended her hand to Martha.
"Deal," Martha agreed, shaking Romana's hand.
Romana smiled, opened the door of one of the two fridges that were standing side by side and led Martha in.
It was quite considerably bigger on the inside.
"Can't sleep?" Romana asked when Martha walked into the console room wearing just a t-shirt and underwear.
"I keep having this dream about chasing robotic rabbits."
"Ah," said Romana. She could explain, of course, that when you were growing a TARDIS from scratch in E-space you needed a spark of intelligence to start it off; such as the brain of your robot dog. But she didn't think Martha would really understand.
"I have that one all the time," she said instead. "It doesn't mean anything."
The book Romana dropped on the kitchen table in front of Martha was the same height as all her first year medical texts piled up on top of one another. With fewer pictures and smaller print.
"The TARDIS manual," she announced.
"You want me to learn how to fly the TARDIS?"
"I can't fly the TARDIS."
"Of course not," Romana smiled reasonably, "you haven't read the manual yet."
Martha winced as she heard a thump that sounded very much like a petite Time Lady hitting the wall of the console room with some force. She rooted through the pockets of the wool coat she was holding, casting it aside when she came up empty handed.
"Where is it?"
"In my overcoat, the red one."
Martha looked around the wardrobe room in disgust at the number of red overcoats Romana seemed to own. For the first time in ages she found herself missing the Doctor and his one outfit.
She found what she was looking for in the inside pocket of the third coat she searched, which Martha would have described as being more of a dark pink. She called out to Romana as she chucked the sonic screwdriver through to the console room.
There were a couple more thuds, a high pitched screech, the whoosh of the TARDIS doors opening and then silence. Then Romana was standing in the doorway to the wardrobe room, dusting off her hands.
"Well," she said primly, "that's the last time I invite an unstoppable evil from the dawn of time aboard my TARDIS."
Martha perched herself on the corner of Romana's desk in the Chicago office they were leasing.
"I don't know how much you know about 1930s America-"
"I'll admit my knowledge of this era has been somewhat sidelined by my expertise in temporal physics and interstellar politics."
"Uh huh, it's just that I don't think anybody in this time is going to come to a private investigations agency run by two women. Especially not when one of them is black."
"That doesn't matter."
Romana leaned across the desk until her nose was almost touching Martha's. "Because the aliens we're looking for know even less about this period than I do."
"It's not true," said Romana one morning when they were having tea and scones in the bistro of the first five star hotel to open on Mars.
"What's not true?"
"What the Master said. I am not participating in 'the Doctor's foolish attempt to feel better about the destruction of Gallifrey by adopting a human.'"
"I never thought you were."
"You don't make me feel better."
Martha dropped the rest of her scone onto the plate. She'd suddenly gone off the idea.
"This isn't to say that you're not an excellent example of your species, because you are, or that I don't enjoy having you onboard, because I do. It's just that nothing could make me feel better about Gallifrey."
Romana took a sip of tea. "Other than shoving the Doctor's sonic screwdriver where the vortex doesn't shine, of course."
Romana had been staring at the TARDIS computer screen for what felt like days. She'd taken to sighing wearily and muttering under her breath.
"What are you doing?"
"Researching Arcalian divorce procedures."
Martha pouted in mock offence. "Sweetheart, I'm sure we can work it out."
"That's not funny."
"It's a bit funny."
Romana graced Martha with a look that implied she didn't find this at all amusing.
"Oh, come on, you've got to admit that it was just our luck to land on a planet where the high priest would only see married couples, and he had to be the only person who could get us that spare part for the TARDIS."
"Sometimes I think that the universe never used to be this silly. Then I remember that, no, it was exactly this silly."
"And you enjoyed that snog at the wedding."
"Time Lords are above such petty physical concerns."
"Yeah, right," Martha said, trying not to laugh. "I can tell when someone enjoyed snogging me. Unless you're going to pretend that it was some kind of genetic transfer?"
"Who makes a genetic transfer by kissing?" Romana asked incredulously
"Yes, that's what I wanted to know."
"How goes the divorce research?"
"I've read this paragraph eight hundred and twelve times," Romana said by way of an answer.
"That well, then."
"Tell me, Martha Jones, if it wouldn't be a terrible inconvenience would you mind staying married to me so that I can stop reading this?"
"That's the nicest proposal I've ever had from someone I'm already married to."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Martha, Donna and Lucy called it The Almost Last of the Time Lords Benevolent Society. Sometimes it seemed like the universe arranged for the Doctor, the Master and Romana to be in the same place at the same time. So they could glare at each other and bicker about who was to blame for the destruction of Gallifrey.
Martha, Donna and Lucy usually relocated to the nearest pub.
"So are you coming with us?" the Doctor asked Martha when she returned.
"No, seeing as how I'm married to Romana now I probably shouldn't go running off with other Time Lords. And she's a better kisser than you, anyway."
That shut the Doctor up.