[Locked to Des and the Doctor aka the OT3]

[smithnjones]

The narration isn't quite sure how Martha Jones got past security, but it's been weeks since she's seen Des and now that the plague is practically taken care of, nothing on Earth could keep her away from him any longer. It's been several long, exhausting, nerve wracking weeks

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[nothingsodivine]

Thankfully, Des is in his room, but that's mostly because Kara would beat him... Otherwise he'd be down in the lobby dealing with... Certain things, because in his mind the Doctor would consider it a favor. Yes.

And in the middle of contemplating that, he hears the knock and half expects it to be Grace making sure he's still here and hasn't left. If it was Kara, there wouldn't be knocking, and no one else around could possibly need him.

So, of course, he's pleasantly surprised when he opens the door to find one Martha Jones, and the grin that breaks out on his face is about as big as it can get.

"Long time, no see, stranger," he says before deciding to forego all sense of decorum and kissing her deeply, because... Yes, words are not good for moments like this. It's been weeks and this is how best to show how much he missed her.

[smithnjones]

Martha manages an equally bright grin at the sight of his. She slips her arm around his neck and tilts her head as she deepens the kiss, making a happy, relieved sound.

When she pulls away, again, she keeps her arms around his neck still, up on her tip toes.

"Very long time. Let's not do that again, yeah?" Martha smiles, softly. "How've you been holding up?"

[nothingsodivine]

He smiles even brighter, if that's even physically possible, and slips his arms around her waist. "I agree whole-heartedly."

He tilts his head back and laughs a bit. "Like a brick house, I guess. Stalwart and true, and not about to topple in the face of plague, nor Big Bad Wolf, nor flying pig."

Yeah, he had to make a flying pig joke. It's necessary.

"Mostly, I've been bored... Or I was until some guy decided to go out and kill one of us with my face."

It's his face, apparently, no matter what Jack looks like. He's had it for longer... Or so goes his logic.

[smithnjones]

Martha laughs, brightly. It's been far too long since they discussed flying pigs, after all.

She had almost forgotten about that conversation. Almost.

"I'm going to absolutely love the day when a flying pig comes through the Rift. Honestly, why couldn't that happen instead of a bloody plague?" Because that's not the way the world here works, Martha. The narrators aren't that nice!

Martha frowns at him and nods.

"Yes, I heard about that..." and I think I snogged the man who did it, but I'm not positive it was him. It's on the tip of her tongue to say it, but she doesn't.

She knows she should at least admit to having possibly met him, because she might know what he actually looks like.

"We'll get it sorted out."

[nothingsodivine]

He pulls her just a bit closer and leans over to brush his nose against hers. He can be ridiculously adorable when he's this happy. "I have missed that laugh of yours

[smithnjones]

"Right, right. Into proper bacon, you would. I wonder if flying pigs taste any better than the regular ones." Martha is most definetly kidding

[nothingsodivine]

Des nods slowly, listening to every word and running his thumb in soothing circles around the top of her hand. He's not sure why, exactly, but it seemed like the thing to do. It certainly is better to be in this room with her instead of alone. Solitude isn't good for him. Even at the lowest point in his life (all three millennia of it), he was never alone, and it bothers him when he is, even if people are just a hallway away.

"I remain immune, thankfully," he says, smiling a little. "As do you, apparently, so I don't think we're in any danger."

And if they were, he'd say to hell with it anyway, because he's missed her and the Doctor so much. "And I'm looking forward to the rest. I swear I haven't had a decent hour of sleep since this started, and I haven't even been doing anything to provoke it."

Well, besides walk the floors because of stress. That'll do it.

[smithnjones]

Martha appreciates every little touch. Although, just having him next to her, again, is more soothing than she could ever put into words.

"Yes, I think we're safe at this point. Hopefully. If not, it's too late and I'm too tired to care."

She smiles at him, sideways, and does not hesitate before slipping on to the bed and pulling his hand to indicate that he should join her. Martha's not lying down yet. Just sitting on the bed. If she lies down, she'll fall asleep and she'd rather be awake at least, until the Doctor arrives. She'll sleep much easier when she has both her boys with her.

"Well, it can't have been easy at all. Holed up in here. Could drive a person mad. Good to see you haven't lost any more sanity since last I saw you. Ever get cabin fever?" A very teasing, light smile as she leans against him, because the narration assumes that Des listened to Martha and joined her on the bed.

Martha closes her eyes and sighs. "The rest will be very good. We owe each other a good time of being curled up in a corner and not

[nothingsodivine]

He plops down onto bed right next to her and toys with her hair, grinning as she talks. "Yeah, because if I got any crazier, you wouldn't have any idea what to do with me." He pushes her hair away from her neck and plants a few, sweet, gentle kisses there. It's not some cheap seduction tactic. He's just weirdly affectionate sometimes.

"Nah. I don't get cabin fever," he shakes his head as she leans against him. It's such a good thing that he said that, because the narration would have words with him about it considering he spent three thousand years in a cave. At least he has TV in the hotel room.

"I will happily let you," he responds, tilting his head over to rest it on hers. "You deserve to sleep for a week. You and the Doctor both, even if I bet he'll be too stubborn to admit to needing any sleep at all."

[thatsortofaman]

"That's not true," the Doctor protests as he steps into the room, grinning a little at Des and Martha. Speak of the devil... "I need a little sleep. Occasionally. Just not as much as you two seem to think."

Yeah, that's encouraging. One of these days, Des and Martha might want to consult another Time Lord on how much they really need to sleep and how closely the Doctor comes to that (read: not very). In the meantime, though, he wanders over to sit at the foot of the bed, feet tucked up underneath him.

"Is this what the two of you do while I'm gone? Talk about me?" Yes, Doctor, because the universe does, in fact, revolve around you. (Well, maybe Des and Martha's universe...)

[smithnjones]

Martha smiles at the kisses on her neck. She recognizes them for what they are... affection. Not that she would mind being seduced by him, of course, but they're both a bit drained for that right now.

When the Doctor enters, she rolls her eyes at him, although, she is smiling.

"Oh, yes. We have long conversations about you and flying pigs. All that we ever find worthy of doing when you're not around."

Please, note the sarcasm, Doctor.

"How'd distributing the cures go?" She slips her free hand over to his back, cause touching is good. "Everyone doing alright?"

[nothingsodivine]

Des gives the Doctor a wry smirk when he enters, which turns into a grin at Martha's sarcasm. "Yep. That sounds about right, honestly."

And he reaches over and tousles the Doctor's hair (not that it isn't in a permanent state of tousle) just be an annoying (yet apparently adorably affectionate jerk.

"And will we actually be able to go back downstairs again soon? I hate to say it, but I actually miss the basement."

Not that he minds being up here with them at this very moment, of course, but.. Still.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor jerks his head away from Des' hand with a slightly indignant glare, running a hand through his hair as if that's going to fix it - or as if Des' tousling had any obvious effect whatsoever. He continues glaring for a second or two, and then focuses on Martha.

"Yeah, everyone's alright. You could go down there now if you really wanted... and if you're going to keep doing that to my hair, I might make you." It's not really that convincing a threat, all things considered.

[smithnjones]

The glaring just makes Martha smile. It's nice for things to be back to 'normal'. Sort of. Relatively speaking. Ah, she can pretend.

"Oh, no. No one's leaving just yet." Martha smiles and folds her arms over her chest, because this is serious business talking and requires the serious business pose. "Not for at least a few hours. I'm planning on curling up and not moving for that long. Most likely sleep will occur, but neither of you are allowed to leave. Got it? We'll rest and then we can... deal with everything else, yeah?"

[nothingsodivine]

Des pulls his hand away almost simultaneous with the Doctor jerking his head, grinning like an idiot, and holding both of his hands up in a surrendered 'see, my hands are right here and I'm being good, really' kind of way.

He lowers them when Martha starts speaking, however, although his grin never wavers, because Martha is never more attractive than when she's being all business like that. It's sexy. "Right. No leaving and no worrying about anything for awhile. I can deal with that."

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor runs a hand through his hair again - this time nothing to do with Des' messing with it, more just a distracted, habitual gesture. "Right. Not going anywhere. Wouldn't want to incur the wrath of Martha." He drums his fingers absently on the bed, glancing from Des to Martha, rolling his eyes a little at Des' innocent look.

As much as he says he doesn't need sleep, he is looking a little worn around the edges - not a surprise considering he hasn't slept since the plague began. But really. He's fine.