The Morning After.

[emptyyourself]

Who: Martha and Snape
What: ...Morning After Regrets? Post-Flood Embarrassment?
When: The morning after the flood waters recede.
Where: Uh...Martha's room.
Warnings: Snape let Martha cut off his hair. That's pretty scary. Sexual suggestion, and language probably.

Comments

[thegooddrjones]

Martha Jones hadn't been one of those people who slept like a rock since she had been a child (medical school and traveling with the Doctor had taken that out of her) however, since the flood she had been sleeping quite soundly and rather through the night. Really, she had probably gotten more sleep during the flood than she had in the week leading up to it. Still being herself meant that when the person next to her started stirring, Martha did as well

[emptyyourself]

"It's all right?" he repeated, gaping, then tried to look away. Unfortunately, there was really nowhere to look that didn't remind him he was in the wrong room. Was she insane? This was far from all right.

"This is not all right, and you-" He raised an emphatic finger - the one not holding up the sheet, "- are being far too calm about it. My God."

He raised his to his forehead and was hit with another shock; he ran it back over the haircut, then dropped it to his side and let his head fall back against the wall with a grunt of displeasure. At least that could be fixed.

[thegooddrjones]

Martha nodded quickly when he questioned her, because god damn it, it had to be all right. "Being calm about odd things is kind of what I do, Severus. I'm a bloody Doctor." She took a deep breath quickly, because she knew that he was right, because god damn it he was nearly always right about stupid things like this

[emptyyourself]

He took the cloak shakily, then gave a quick glance around for the clothes that must be in the room. He couldn't have come here wearing nothing but a cloak.

The problem here was that it was them. His personality hadn't been influenced in the slightest, nor had his mental processes. He simply hadn't remembered who he was and who she was. This wasn't like the port where he'd wound up with Max or Baby, and could claim that he'd had a love potion. He had absolutely no excuse; it was something he had chosen to do because he had wanted to do it.

To add insult to injury, so to speak, it had been with Martha. It could have been anyone else, but he had somehow, in his addled state, chosen the one woman he had trusted and replied upon since coming aboard. That she was seeing someone else didn't help matters.

In short, this was all very embarrassing.

He motioned to the foot of the bed and managed to choke out, "Trousers."