[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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[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.

If a winged pig came through the Rift, the last thing on her mind would be eating it, but it could make for a nice pet or something. C'mon, it's a pig with wings!

"Yes, we do." Although, sometimes the cost is almost more than they can bear, sometime they're nearly destroyed in the attempt, but she'll happily cling to the finality for now.

Martha's arms fall away from his neck, but doesn't lose contact for long. She grabs his hand, instead, and pulls him back into the room that he's probably spent far too much time in lately. Only it's better this time, because it's with her.

"Yes. The Doctor is distributing cures in the basement at the moment, and then he'll be up here, too. We all deserve some rest before-" She cuts herself off, because it isn't necessary to even say it anymore, and just moves on as if she didn't even stop. "Technically, the quarantine should last, at least, the rest of the day until we're sure those who are infected downstairs are taking to the cure as they should, but... I really couldn't wait any longer."

[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 moving. At least for a few hours, though I think if I pass out I could just sleep the week away, easy."

[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.

[smithnjones]

Martha smiles brightly back at Des in response to his unwavering grin. "You had better deal with it or else- I'm the boss, remember?"

She giggles softly, turning her attention back to the Doctor and raising an eyebrow at him. Yes, she can see the wear and tear. And she knows him well enough to recognize it for what it is. "You don't have to just not go anywhere. You could try sleeping, too. It's a good thing. Really."

Martha lies back in the bed, snuggling up against a pillow, comfortably, but not closing her eyes just yet. She reaches out to tug on both of their sleeves just a bit to convince them that yes, they want to cuddle with her in bed, just y'know... without actually telling them to.

"C'mon then." Martha slips a hand over her mouth as a yawn hits her. "Seriously. It's comfy and it feels go-o-o-o-od." Yes, that's the high pitched tone of sleep drunkenness coming into effect.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor blinks for a moment, considering protesting that he's fine, but he knows she won't believe him and it's just not worth it to argue. He sighs, like it's such a burden to cuddle with her, and shifts up the bed to lie down beside her, on his side and facing her.

"I don't really need to sleep. I'm just doing this as a favor to you."

...Alright, so much for not arguing.

[nothingsodivine]

Des nods in an extremely mock-serious way. "Yes, you're the boss. This is the single truth I have learned in my time here."

...Well, it's the one that he actually accepts. 'Don't run towards the danger' should have smacked him in the face by now, but it hasn't, really.

Des wastes no time in following Martha and the Doctor's lead and curling up on his side, pressed against Martha's back, face buried in her hair. Oh yes, it doesn't take him long to get comfortable and he's not nearly as exhausted as the other two are, considering... He hasn't been fighting off sleep to find a cure for the plague. "Oh yeah," he says, shifting a little to get a more comfortable position. "This is definitely good, and I'm not going to move from this spot for awhile... Or ever. In fact..." He yawns too. Apparently, it's contagious. "Just wake me if I'm needed to help avert some crisis."

Although given his mortality, the Doctor would probably be content to let him sleep forever in that case.

He does, however, manage to look up over Martha's head and give the Doctor a look, "Don't make us get the tranquilizers again, Doctor," he sighs, before flopping his head back down on the pillow.

[smithnjones]

Martha snorts into the pillow and rolls her eyes.

"Of course you are." She pats his arm with a silly, little smile slipping on to her face. "How very generous of you. Thanks."

She makes a soft, pleased noise when Des presses up against her back.

"Mmhmm. Just cause we look like we can't move now. We could. If it was... necessary..." Oh, yes, Martha is so convincing, especially with the way her eyes keep slipping shut. She does open them, again, and fixes the Doctor with a stare that's meant to be business-like, but ends up looking very silly and points at him. "Now stop being a baby. It's far past your bedtime young man."

Martha slips her finger down his arm, takes hold of his hand, and yawns, again.

[thatsortofaman]

The Doctor pouts at her a little, but he can't keep the smile off his face for long, and simply nods, scooting a little closer to her as he winds his fingers through hers.

"I'm not going anywhere. Honestly. For at least a couple hours. Go to sleep." Now that he's actually lying down, it's all catching up to him anyway, whether he wants it to or not. It could be worse - curing a plague isn't on the scale of his usual adventures, running for his life, explosions, that sort of thing - but even so...

After pausing for a moment, the Doctor kicks off his trainers, nudging them off the edge of the bed, and then curls against Martha more comfortably, resting his forehead against her shoulder. Right. Sleep. He remembers how to do that.