Lassar Finch (Mr Finch)

The school was almost unnervingly quiet.

Martha had become accustomed to quiet places feeling suspicious.

After everything she'd seen travelling with the Doctor, ordinary silence didn't feel ordinary anymore. It felt like the moment before something happened.

She stood alone in the corridor, arms folded loosely across her chest, studying the closed doors around her.

She'd only come here because of a handful of strange reports. Nothing particularly unusual by her standards.

At least, that's what she'd told herself.

A slow set of footsteps echoed from somewhere behind her.

Martha turned.

Mr Finch was standing at the other end of the corridor.

Perfectly composed. Immaculately dressed. That faint, almost knowing smile resting on his lips.

He approached without hurry.

"Dr Jones."

Martha raised an eyebrow. "You've been expecting me?"

"I have."

There was something about his answer that made her uneasy.

Finch stopped a few feet away, regarding her with an almost unnerving degree of interest.

"A doctor. A traveller. Someone who has seen things most people couldn't possibly comprehend."

Martha gave him a guarded look. "You've been doing your homework."

"I make it a habit to understand the people who enter my school."

"Understand me?"

"Yes."

His eyes remained fixed on hers.

"Although I confess, you're proving rather more difficult to understand than I anticipated."

Martha gave a small, humourless smile.

"That's probably because you don't know me."

"Perhaps."

For a moment, his expression softened.

Then came the question.

"Tell me, Martha... after everything you experienced with the Doctor, why did you come back?"

Her face changed almost imperceptibly.

Finch noticed.

Of course he did.

He tilted his head slightly.

"You missed him."

Martha's jaw tightened.

"That's none of your business."

"No," Finch agreed quietly. "It isn't."

He should have left it there.

Instead, he studied her for another moment.