"God, I would kill for a day filing papers." Martha rolled her eyes, and then grinned. She wouldn't literally kill. Well, probably not. Sometimes it was really, really tempting to kill Annalise.
Sliding a fiver across the bar in return for her drink, she took a sip, then held out a hand. "Martha Jones. Pleased to meet you." A brief memory of Jack's methods of greeting crossed her mind, and her smile broadened for a second. "Wait, Torchwood Tower? Down at Canary Wharf?"