Drabbles of Fic Part 11
Title: Drabbles of Fic Part 11
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Martha, Donna, Ten/Martha/Jack
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17
Spoilers: Seasons 3 and 4
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: More of the Drabbles I've written for the lifeonmartha 1000 Drabbles of Awesome Tag game that are to celebrate the Community reaching 1000 members. These are all from prompts by ladymako71 who likes to torment me by bribing Ten!Bunny into writing !
~~~~~~
Surprise bouquet of Martha's favourite flowers (For ladymako71)
About a month after she stopped travelling with the Doctor, Martha got back from the hospital at 8 o'clock one morning to find a note pinned to her door in unfamiliar handwriting: Flowers round the back. Just that - no salutation, no signature. She pulled the note off the door, frowning, and walked down the path at the side of the house.
At the back of the house was a plastic bucket full of water and a huge bouquet of orchids. She blinked in surprise - a bouquet that size must have cost a small fortune. Carefully lifting the bouquet from the bucket, she found a small card attached which read: Thank you for everything in the same unfamiliar handwriting.
She took the flowers inside and found vessels for them - she only possessed one actual flower vase - then rang around family and friends to see if she could discover who might be behind them. No one knew anything, so she finally rang Jack Harkness.
"Sweetheart, I wish I'd thought of it, but no, it wasn't me," he said regretfully.
Which left only one person - but when she rang her old mobile, she only got the voicemail. She hung up without leaving a message.
* * * * * *
Martha's birthday started out crappy... (For ladymako71)
As far as her birth certificate was concerned, Martha Jones was 24 today - but then her birth certificate couldn't take into account a year that had been lived through, then rewound, or the time she'd spent in 1913 and 1969. By her reckoning Martha was nearer to 26, but this morning, after a week of late shifts, she felt 96. She'd finished work at 2 am and only managed a few hours sleep before her neighbour's baby began screaming. She groaned and turned over, pulling the pillow over her head and hoping to go back to sleep, but half an hour later she acknowledged that it wasn't going to happen until the baby stopped screaming.
After a quick shower she went to make herself some coffee and contemplated ringing her mum to cancel the family dinner that evening, since she was so tired, but she knew she'd never hear the end of it if she did. She'd just have to hope she could stay awake. She carried her coffee over to the table, then yelped as she stubbed her toe against a chair leg, then swore when the jolt made her lose her grip on her mug, and china and coffee crashed to the floor.
"I never thought to hear you swear like that," said a soft voice behind her, startling her badly.
She turned and stared speechlessly at the Doctor standing in the kitchen doorway. He immediately crossed the kitchen and held out his arms to her, and she stepped into his embrace with a feeling of relief.
"Happy birthday Doctor Jones."
"Thanks," she answered, voice muffled against his shirt.
"How about letting me take you away to celebrate?" he asked.
She looked up into his face. "What I most want for my birthday is 12 hours sleep," she told him.
He looked surprised, then grinned and jerked his head towards the back garden. "Time machine."
She managed a smile. "Let me clear this up first, then I'll be there."
"I'll clear this up," he said. "Go and get your jim-jams and whatever else you want to make yourself comfy in the TARDIS."
She raised an eyebrow. "OK." She padded away and the Doctor carefully picked up the pieces of china, and put them on a tea towel on the table, then mopped up the spilt coffee. When Martha came back a few minutes later, the mug was sitting on the table, whole again.
"You fixed it!"
He waggled his Sonic Screwdriver at her, then pocketed it. "Yup!" he said with a wide grin.
She practically threw herself into his arms. "Thank you! That's my favourite mug - my Gran gave me that when I was 10. She - she's gone now."
He held her close. "I'm sorry."
"It's OK. She had a good long innings. But that's why I was swearing when you came in."
"Ah." He pulled away from her a little. "Ready?" She nodded, showing him the bag into which she'd stuffed her pyjamas and a couple of other items. "Then let me take you to bed, Doctor Jones."
* * * * * *
Martha or the Doctor needing comforting (For ladymako71)
They made their way back to the TARDIS in silence, the Doctor with his hands shoved in his trouser pockets. Martha was still digesting everything he'd told her, but one thing was clear - he really was on his own, the last of the Time Lords, despite the words of the Face of Boe.
Once they were in the Vortex, she turned to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around his slender body. He was surprised, but didn't push her away; instead he wrapped his arms around her in turn and rested his chin on her head.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"I know."
They stayed there some time, arms wrapped tightly around each other, and the Doctor reflected that he might be the last of his people, but whilst he had Companions like Martha Jones, he was never really alone.
* * * * * *
Stubble rash! (For ladymako71)
Jack glanced at Martha, then looked at her more intently.
"What?" she asked irritably.
"What's that on your face?" He peered closer.
"What do you *think* it is Jack?"
"Oh!" He pulled away. "Sorry."
She glowered at him, then went back to the reports they were going over. He rubbed a hand thoughtfully across his face; it was definitely not his fault - he didn't go in for stubble, and Ianto's face was always as smooth as silk. Owen? No, surely not - she wouldn't kiss Owen, would she? He looked at her speculatively, trying to work out who she was kissing regularly enough to acquire stubble rash.
* * * * * *
Eating a really juicy fruit and the fun consequences that can arise (For ladymako71)
Martha and the Doctor were enjoying a cliff-top picnic on a rare day off from saving the Universe.
"Try this," the Doctor said, offering Martha a small blue fruit.
"What is it?"
"It's a Fersken, similar to a peach." He watched as she bit into it and juice ran down her chin. She giggled and raised her free hand to wipe her chin clean. "Allow me," he said.
She tried not to shiver at the tone of his voice, but her eyes widened in anticipation as she gave him a nod. He leant forward, cupping her face in one hand, then delicately lapped up the juice. Then he ran his tongue sensuously across her lips and she immediately opened her mouth, so he slid his tongue inside and began to kiss her. The Fersken fell onto the grass, disregarded, as the Doctor gently pushed Martha down onto her back.
A couple of hours later, a small, smug-looking rabbit-type mammal found the Fersken and carried it off to his burrow to enjoy it, entirely ignoring the two bodies writhing together on the picnic rug.
* * * * * *
Decorating the new flat NC-17 (For ladymako71)
Martha got up early the morning of her first full day in her new flat and pulled on an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt, tied back her hair, then covered it with a scarf. Today she would begin decorating her new flat. She made herself coffee and toast and was just finishing her breakfast when her doorbell rang, startling her.
She opened her front door to find Jack and the Doctor grinning at her from the hallway.
"Good morning Doctor Jones, need a hand?" asked the Doctor, pulling his hands, and two paintbrushes, from his pockets with a flourish.
"Four hands, even," said Jack with a leer.
"God you're incorrigible!" Martha said, standing aside to let them in.
"And you love it!" Jack asserted, kissing her emphatically before he headed further inside.
The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at Martha, without moving. "Are you gonna stand there all day?" she asked, puzzled.
He stepped over the threshold. "Am I allowed to do that?" he asked.
Martha hoped she wasn't blushing. "If you like."
He tilted his head down, then transferred a paintbrush to his left hand so he could cup her face in his right, tilting it up to kiss her. Martha felt as if time was standing still and it was only the fact that she heard Jack moving back into the hall to see what was keeping them that she knew the Doctor hadn't stopped time. Jack cleared his throat very pointedly and Martha started to giggle. The Doctor pulled away and they both looked at Jack.
"Aren't we supposed to be decorating?" he asked. They both stared: he'd stripped down to his t-shirt and a tight pair of shorts.
"You don't believe in leaving anything to the imagination, do you?" asked Martha with a giggle.
"If you've got it, flaunt it, I always say," he answered with another leer.
The Doctor rolled his eyes, then put his arm around Martha and led her into her sitting room.
"I think you'd better change too," she told the Doctor. "You don't want paint on your blue suit, do you?"
"I trust you've got a spare pair of shorts then?" he asked and Martha knew she was blushing this time.
"I have actually." She went through to her bedroom and the Doctor followed.
"I'll get started, shall I?" shouted Jack from the other room.
"Yes please!" Martha called back. She opened a drawer, found some shorts and turned to give them to the Doctor, only to be brought up short by the sight of his bare chest. "Here," Martha said, shoving the shorts at him and bolting - it was that or grab the Doctor and ravish him, which wouldn't get the decorating done.
Later though…
* * * * * *
A happy memory from 1969 NC-17 (For ladymako71)
Martha lay curled up, trying not to listen to the chatter of the Master's spheres as they zoomed about, looking for her. She closed her eyes and did what she had done so often before, calling up a happy memory from her time travelling with the Doctor. Now she remembered the two of them, trapped without the TARDIS in 1969: the Doctor had finished his timey-wimey device and was making up for his preoccupation with building that, by becoming preoccupied with her. She'd got home from work to find their tiny flat was spotlessly clean and dinner was ready to be served. They'd eaten and he'd washed up, before offering her a foot massage. Martha had agreed gladly, her feet ached all the time from standing serving customers. Now he was kneeling on the floor, kneading her muscles with those long, slender fingers of his as he finished massaging her second foot.
"Do your legs ache as well?" he asked.
She opened one eye and looked at him, trying to read his expression in the half light. "Yes." She shivered involuntarily as he began massaging her calf, and closed her eyes again. She was lost in a haze of pleasurable feelings when she realised his hands had wandered up her bare legs and he was massaging her thighs.
She opened both eyes as he bent down and kissed her gently.
"More?" he asked and she nodded, sighing as his fingers wandered higher still and he began to stroke her again.
* * * * * *
"Why Mr Smith! What a big..." NC-17 (For ladymako71 I confess to adding an extra word into the prompt!)
The sound of the slap rang out around the Control Room. The Doctor clutched his cheek, wide-eyed with surprise.
"Ow!"
Donna glared at him. "I warned you, Martian Boy, you land this thing so roughly that I land on my arse, and I slap you." Martha was biting her lip to stop herself laughing aloud at the pair of them. "I'll see you tomorrow evening - and no flying off without me, you understand?" She shook her finger at him in admonition, waved to Martha, then picked up her bag and left.
"C'mon," Martha said, taking the Doctor's arm.
"Where are we going?" he asked warily.
"Med Bay." She led him through the corridors to the Med Bay. "Just stand there," she told him, pushing gently up against a bed, then turning to the well-equipped shelves. She turned back a few moments later holding a tube of salve. "Move your hand then."
The Doctor pulled his hand from his face, revealing the red imprint of Donna's slap on his cheek.
"I think I know why you let her get away with that," Martha said conversationally as she gently applied the salve with her fingertips.
"Get away with - ?" he spluttered, and she knew she was right.
"Yes, get away with. You're nimble enough to evade Donna's slaps if you wanted to, but you like her slapping you, don't you?"
"I don't know what you mean," he answered, all wounded dignity.
Martha moved around him, putting the tube of salve down, then leant up against his side to whisper in his ear. "Oh but you do Mr Smith." Her right hand drifted down the front of his trousers and she felt him twitch. "You like it. It excites you," she whispered. She kissed his cheek, then bit gently on his ear lobe. "Go on, admit it."
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her body tight against his. "And what if it does?" he growled. "What are you going to do about it Doctor Jones?"
"This," she answered, unzipping his trousers. "Why Mr Smith, what a big - " Her words were cut off as a pair of cool lips descended on her mouth and he began kissing her hungrily.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Martha, Donna, Ten/Martha/Jack
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17
Spoilers: Seasons 3 and 4
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: More of the Drabbles I've written for the lifeonmartha 1000 Drabbles of Awesome Tag game that are to celebrate the Community reaching 1000 members. These are all from prompts by ladymako71 who likes to torment me by bribing Ten!Bunny into writing !
~~~~~~
Surprise bouquet of Martha's favourite flowers (For ladymako71)
About a month after she stopped travelling with the Doctor, Martha got back from the hospital at 8 o'clock one morning to find a note pinned to her door in unfamiliar handwriting: Flowers round the back. Just that - no salutation, no signature. She pulled the note off the door, frowning, and walked down the path at the side of the house.
At the back of the house was a plastic bucket full of water and a huge bouquet of orchids. She blinked in surprise - a bouquet that size must have cost a small fortune. Carefully lifting the bouquet from the bucket, she found a small card attached which read: Thank you for everything in the same unfamiliar handwriting.
She took the flowers inside and found vessels for them - she only possessed one actual flower vase - then rang around family and friends to see if she could discover who might be behind them. No one knew anything, so she finally rang Jack Harkness.
"Sweetheart, I wish I'd thought of it, but no, it wasn't me," he said regretfully.
Which left only one person - but when she rang her old mobile, she only got the voicemail. She hung up without leaving a message.
* * * * * *
Martha's birthday started out crappy... (For ladymako71)
As far as her birth certificate was concerned, Martha Jones was 24 today - but then her birth certificate couldn't take into account a year that had been lived through, then rewound, or the time she'd spent in 1913 and 1969. By her reckoning Martha was nearer to 26, but this morning, after a week of late shifts, she felt 96. She'd finished work at 2 am and only managed a few hours sleep before her neighbour's baby began screaming. She groaned and turned over, pulling the pillow over her head and hoping to go back to sleep, but half an hour later she acknowledged that it wasn't going to happen until the baby stopped screaming.
After a quick shower she went to make herself some coffee and contemplated ringing her mum to cancel the family dinner that evening, since she was so tired, but she knew she'd never hear the end of it if she did. She'd just have to hope she could stay awake. She carried her coffee over to the table, then yelped as she stubbed her toe against a chair leg, then swore when the jolt made her lose her grip on her mug, and china and coffee crashed to the floor.
"I never thought to hear you swear like that," said a soft voice behind her, startling her badly.
She turned and stared speechlessly at the Doctor standing in the kitchen doorway. He immediately crossed the kitchen and held out his arms to her, and she stepped into his embrace with a feeling of relief.
"Happy birthday Doctor Jones."
"Thanks," she answered, voice muffled against his shirt.
"How about letting me take you away to celebrate?" he asked.
She looked up into his face. "What I most want for my birthday is 12 hours sleep," she told him.
He looked surprised, then grinned and jerked his head towards the back garden. "Time machine."
She managed a smile. "Let me clear this up first, then I'll be there."
"I'll clear this up," he said. "Go and get your jim-jams and whatever else you want to make yourself comfy in the TARDIS."
She raised an eyebrow. "OK." She padded away and the Doctor carefully picked up the pieces of china, and put them on a tea towel on the table, then mopped up the spilt coffee. When Martha came back a few minutes later, the mug was sitting on the table, whole again.
"You fixed it!"
He waggled his Sonic Screwdriver at her, then pocketed it. "Yup!" he said with a wide grin.
She practically threw herself into his arms. "Thank you! That's my favourite mug - my Gran gave me that when I was 10. She - she's gone now."
He held her close. "I'm sorry."
"It's OK. She had a good long innings. But that's why I was swearing when you came in."
"Ah." He pulled away from her a little. "Ready?" She nodded, showing him the bag into which she'd stuffed her pyjamas and a couple of other items. "Then let me take you to bed, Doctor Jones."
* * * * * *
Martha or the Doctor needing comforting (For ladymako71)
They made their way back to the TARDIS in silence, the Doctor with his hands shoved in his trouser pockets. Martha was still digesting everything he'd told her, but one thing was clear - he really was on his own, the last of the Time Lords, despite the words of the Face of Boe.
Once they were in the Vortex, she turned to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around his slender body. He was surprised, but didn't push her away; instead he wrapped his arms around her in turn and rested his chin on her head.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"I know."
They stayed there some time, arms wrapped tightly around each other, and the Doctor reflected that he might be the last of his people, but whilst he had Companions like Martha Jones, he was never really alone.
* * * * * *
Stubble rash! (For ladymako71)
Jack glanced at Martha, then looked at her more intently.
"What?" she asked irritably.
"What's that on your face?" He peered closer.
"What do you *think* it is Jack?"
"Oh!" He pulled away. "Sorry."
She glowered at him, then went back to the reports they were going over. He rubbed a hand thoughtfully across his face; it was definitely not his fault - he didn't go in for stubble, and Ianto's face was always as smooth as silk. Owen? No, surely not - she wouldn't kiss Owen, would she? He looked at her speculatively, trying to work out who she was kissing regularly enough to acquire stubble rash.
* * * * * *
Eating a really juicy fruit and the fun consequences that can arise (For ladymako71)
Martha and the Doctor were enjoying a cliff-top picnic on a rare day off from saving the Universe.
"Try this," the Doctor said, offering Martha a small blue fruit.
"What is it?"
"It's a Fersken, similar to a peach." He watched as she bit into it and juice ran down her chin. She giggled and raised her free hand to wipe her chin clean. "Allow me," he said.
She tried not to shiver at the tone of his voice, but her eyes widened in anticipation as she gave him a nod. He leant forward, cupping her face in one hand, then delicately lapped up the juice. Then he ran his tongue sensuously across her lips and she immediately opened her mouth, so he slid his tongue inside and began to kiss her. The Fersken fell onto the grass, disregarded, as the Doctor gently pushed Martha down onto her back.
A couple of hours later, a small, smug-looking rabbit-type mammal found the Fersken and carried it off to his burrow to enjoy it, entirely ignoring the two bodies writhing together on the picnic rug.
* * * * * *
Decorating the new flat NC-17 (For ladymako71)
Martha got up early the morning of her first full day in her new flat and pulled on an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt, tied back her hair, then covered it with a scarf. Today she would begin decorating her new flat. She made herself coffee and toast and was just finishing her breakfast when her doorbell rang, startling her.
She opened her front door to find Jack and the Doctor grinning at her from the hallway.
"Good morning Doctor Jones, need a hand?" asked the Doctor, pulling his hands, and two paintbrushes, from his pockets with a flourish.
"Four hands, even," said Jack with a leer.
"God you're incorrigible!" Martha said, standing aside to let them in.
"And you love it!" Jack asserted, kissing her emphatically before he headed further inside.
The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at Martha, without moving. "Are you gonna stand there all day?" she asked, puzzled.
He stepped over the threshold. "Am I allowed to do that?" he asked.
Martha hoped she wasn't blushing. "If you like."
He tilted his head down, then transferred a paintbrush to his left hand so he could cup her face in his right, tilting it up to kiss her. Martha felt as if time was standing still and it was only the fact that she heard Jack moving back into the hall to see what was keeping them that she knew the Doctor hadn't stopped time. Jack cleared his throat very pointedly and Martha started to giggle. The Doctor pulled away and they both looked at Jack.
"Aren't we supposed to be decorating?" he asked. They both stared: he'd stripped down to his t-shirt and a tight pair of shorts.
"You don't believe in leaving anything to the imagination, do you?" asked Martha with a giggle.
"If you've got it, flaunt it, I always say," he answered with another leer.
The Doctor rolled his eyes, then put his arm around Martha and led her into her sitting room.
"I think you'd better change too," she told the Doctor. "You don't want paint on your blue suit, do you?"
"I trust you've got a spare pair of shorts then?" he asked and Martha knew she was blushing this time.
"I have actually." She went through to her bedroom and the Doctor followed.
"I'll get started, shall I?" shouted Jack from the other room.
"Yes please!" Martha called back. She opened a drawer, found some shorts and turned to give them to the Doctor, only to be brought up short by the sight of his bare chest. "Here," Martha said, shoving the shorts at him and bolting - it was that or grab the Doctor and ravish him, which wouldn't get the decorating done.
Later though…
* * * * * *
A happy memory from 1969 NC-17 (For ladymako71)
Martha lay curled up, trying not to listen to the chatter of the Master's spheres as they zoomed about, looking for her. She closed her eyes and did what she had done so often before, calling up a happy memory from her time travelling with the Doctor. Now she remembered the two of them, trapped without the TARDIS in 1969: the Doctor had finished his timey-wimey device and was making up for his preoccupation with building that, by becoming preoccupied with her. She'd got home from work to find their tiny flat was spotlessly clean and dinner was ready to be served. They'd eaten and he'd washed up, before offering her a foot massage. Martha had agreed gladly, her feet ached all the time from standing serving customers. Now he was kneeling on the floor, kneading her muscles with those long, slender fingers of his as he finished massaging her second foot.
"Do your legs ache as well?" he asked.
She opened one eye and looked at him, trying to read his expression in the half light. "Yes." She shivered involuntarily as he began massaging her calf, and closed her eyes again. She was lost in a haze of pleasurable feelings when she realised his hands had wandered up her bare legs and he was massaging her thighs.
She opened both eyes as he bent down and kissed her gently.
"More?" he asked and she nodded, sighing as his fingers wandered higher still and he began to stroke her again.
* * * * * *
"Why Mr Smith! What a big..." NC-17 (For ladymako71 I confess to adding an extra word into the prompt!)
The sound of the slap rang out around the Control Room. The Doctor clutched his cheek, wide-eyed with surprise.
"Ow!"
Donna glared at him. "I warned you, Martian Boy, you land this thing so roughly that I land on my arse, and I slap you." Martha was biting her lip to stop herself laughing aloud at the pair of them. "I'll see you tomorrow evening - and no flying off without me, you understand?" She shook her finger at him in admonition, waved to Martha, then picked up her bag and left.
"C'mon," Martha said, taking the Doctor's arm.
"Where are we going?" he asked warily.
"Med Bay." She led him through the corridors to the Med Bay. "Just stand there," she told him, pushing gently up against a bed, then turning to the well-equipped shelves. She turned back a few moments later holding a tube of salve. "Move your hand then."
The Doctor pulled his hand from his face, revealing the red imprint of Donna's slap on his cheek.
"I think I know why you let her get away with that," Martha said conversationally as she gently applied the salve with her fingertips.
"Get away with - ?" he spluttered, and she knew she was right.
"Yes, get away with. You're nimble enough to evade Donna's slaps if you wanted to, but you like her slapping you, don't you?"
"I don't know what you mean," he answered, all wounded dignity.
Martha moved around him, putting the tube of salve down, then leant up against his side to whisper in his ear. "Oh but you do Mr Smith." Her right hand drifted down the front of his trousers and she felt him twitch. "You like it. It excites you," she whispered. She kissed his cheek, then bit gently on his ear lobe. "Go on, admit it."
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her body tight against his. "And what if it does?" he growled. "What are you going to do about it Doctor Jones?"
"This," she answered, unzipping his trousers. "Why Mr Smith, what a big - " Her words were cut off as a pair of cool lips descended on her mouth and he began kissing her hungrily.