Martha stood with her hands on her hips. The doctor took the cord from his mouth and listened.
"This has gone on long enough. We used to save entire worlds every other day but for weeks you've been moping around the TARDIS barely even looking outside, and it has to end now."
The Doctor stood, his distant expression growing into one of confusion and concern.
"Mar-" he started.
"No, listen to me, Doctor. You're depressed. I get that. But it won't get better until we do something about it. Something wild, and random, and something I've never seen before."
Martha could see the Doctor was on the verge of getting fired up. Even she was buying into her own hype now. He started to talk again, but Martha continued, waving an explanatory hand at him.
"It's what you do best, Doctor! And it's what I signed on for when I joined you. But first," she took a step forward and lifted her shirt, just in time for her flabby tummy once again pop her jeans open loudly, "we need to do something about this."
The Doctor wavered before finally speaking.
"Those used to fit, didn't they?"
Martha covered up and feigned slapping him.
"When I'm depressed, I eat, and when you mope and there's nothing for me to do in a space ship, I get chunky, okay?"
"So, this happens on a fairly regular basis?" he made to poke her stomach but she nudged his hand away.
"No, only now-what does it matter? Let's go somewhere and get some activity, or use some alien technology or something. Anything!"
Martha saw the missing gleam in the Doctor's eyes as he shook his head with increased enthusiasm.
"You're right, Martha Jones, you are right!" he tossed his radar device aside. He leaped across the TARDIS console until he got to where he wanted to go and began pulling levers, pushing buttons, doing general Time Lord flight stuff while Martha smiled sincerely for the first time in weeks.
"This is no way for the Doctor to be acting, all mopey and sad when there's so much to do out there, and you clearly experiencing some kind of ballooning, fatty episode right under my nose" he said as the TARDIS fired up. "We should be ashamed of ourselves!"
"Hey, I'm not fat yet!" Martha snapped, covering her belly. "Soft, maybe . . . chubby almost . . . but let's get me back into shape, I'm no good running like this, you can imagine."
"Right! I think I have just what you need!" he said, as the TARDIS took off.
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