Eyes of an Eagle
Title: Eyes of an Eagle
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Ten
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warning: Rated for mentions of drugs and sexual situations.
Summary: The Doctor and Martha are imprisoned and talk about recent events.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: This is the third fic in my AU 'verse that started about 18 months after "The Doctor's Daughter". The previous two stories are Zero She Flies and Song of the Stars.
This one is much darker and less fluffy than the preceding two, and the idea was sparked, in part, by nostalgia_lj's fic Informed Consent and a conversation in the comments there, but also by a lot of time spent listening to Al Stewart's "Zero She Flies".
~~~~~~
"I think we should talk about what happened on Lussuria." The Doctor's voice was soft but firm.
Martha shook her head without looking at him where he leant against the wall by the door. "There's no point. We did what we had to do. It hasn't changed anything between us."
He pushed himself away from the wall and crossed the small cell to crouch beside the bed where she sat. "I disagree. It's changed everything between us."
She briefly met his eyes, sparks of anger in her own. "It hasn't," she said insistently.
"Martha, it has." He reached out to touch her hand and she flinched, moving it away. "See? You can barely stand to look at me, and you won't let me touch you, even to hold your hand when we're running away."
He withdrew his hand, then rubbed it over his face. "If we don't talk about this, it's going to fester between us and ruin our friendship, and I don't want that."
"What about what I want?" she asked fiercely.
"I don't know what you want," he answered, "because you won't talk to me." He tried not to sound angry or bitter, after all it wasn't Martha's fault. They'd been forced into the situation and it had been a case of comply or die.
"Right now, I just want to sleep. We've had an exhausting day and my body clock tells me it's been 24 hours since I last slept. And although you can manage on very little sleep, I can't."
"Very well." The Doctor moved away and watched as she settled down on the hard mattress on a shelf that served as a bed in their prison cell. He was still hopeful that he could persuade her to talk to him, but she was right about needing her sleep after their long day.
Once he was certain Martha was asleep, which didn't take long, he moved back across the cell to sit on the floor near her head. He leaned his own head against the wall and closed his eyes, wondering if he should offer to remove the memory of what they'd done. He didn't like tampering with people's memories, but there was very little he wouldn't do for Martha Jones, if she wanted it.
A week ago.
"So where are we?" Martha asked as she bounded down the ramp ahead of the Doctor.
"Lussuria. It's a pleasure planet - everyone in this sector of the galaxy comes here for vacations. There are spas, restaurants, hotels, nightclubs, theatres, cinemas, sports facilities - just about every amenity you can think of to provide entertainment."
"Sounds like fun," she said, grinning up at him as she pulled open the door. "So, how long are we staying here?"
"Ooooh a couple of days, at least, I reckon. After toppling two corrupt governments, saving three planets, and preventing a civil war in the last couple of weeks, I reckon we've earned a couple of days R&R."
He grabbed her hand and they headed towards the nearest group of brightly-lit buildings, their arms swinging back and forth between them.
"Dinner and a nightclub sound good?" asked the Time Lord.
"Sounds very good," Martha answered, grinning up at him, her eyes alight with pleasure.
He grinned back, thinking how lucky he was that she had finally agreed to travel with him again. In the last four months they'd travelled extensively across Time and Space, seeing wonders, saving planets, meeting new people, and occasionally causing trouble.
They found a quiet restaurant with separate booths and settled down to eat heartily, enjoying the fact that they didn't have to prepare and cook the meal before they could eat it. They discussed their recent adventures, and soon began bickering amiably about the merits of the heroes in Jane Austen's novels; she'd been the last historical person they'd met and ever since the Doctor had been trying to persuade Martha that Captain Wentworth was as good a suitor as Mr Darcy.
"You're just biased because of Colin Firth in that wet shirt," the Doctor said, pouting.
Martha quirked an eyebrow at him. "I haven't seen the BBC production," she said.
"What?" he yelped, disbelievingly. "That's - that's - words fail me!"
"I should mark this date down in my diary," she joked, laughing when he spluttered in outrage.
"Clearly your education has been deficient, and I will have to rectify that at the earliest opportunity," he said, once he'd recovered.
"Sounds good to me," Martha said cheerfully as she finished her chocolate cheesecake, then swallowed the last of her wine.
"Do you want some coffee before we go?"
She shook her head. "No thanks."
The Doctor signalled for the waiter and requested the bill.
"I'm just going to powder my nose," Martha said, getting up.
He grinned. "Does it need powder? It's a very lovely nose."
She swiped at his shoulder in passing. "You're daft!"
"True." He watched her walk across the restaurant, smiling with amusement.
"Sir." The waited pulled his attention back and he paid the bill.
Martha returned after a few minutes and he grinned at the way every eye in the room was drawn to her. She'd become such a beautiful, elegant woman and it wasn't unusual for people to watch her as she passed. He knew she'd never become comfortable with the scrutiny, but at least she was used to it by now.
He offered her his arm. "Shall we Doctor Jones?"
"Yes let's, Mister Smith." She slipped her arm through his and allowed him to guide her back outside.
"I thought we might try The Blue Lagoon," he said as they walked further up the crowded, noisy street. "They frequently have live music acts."
"Sounds good to me."
They reached a large building with music pouring out of the open windows and door. "Oh, they've redecorated," the Doctor said, sounding slightly disappointed.
"How long is it since you were here?" asked Martha.
"Weeellll, probably a couple of decades," he answered vaguely. "You know how it is, something's always coming up, so getting back here hasn't been easy."
"I know very well how it is," she agreed.
He glanced down at her. "There's always more running than R&R with me, I'm afraid." His voice was soft and slightly regretful.
She squeezed his arm. "I knew what I signed on for when I came back to travel with you again. It was my choice."
"True. Right! Enough melancholy, let's go and have some fun!" He gave her a huge grin and they headed towards the entrance to The Blue Lagoon.
Reaching the doorway, they were stopped by a tall, bulky, blue-skinned humanoid. "You'll be scanned," he told them gruffly. "Make sure you're not carrying weapons, 'cos we don't want trouble."
"Good!" exclaimed the Doctor. "We don't want trouble either, just a pleasant evening."
The bouncer, if that was what he was, frowned a bit. "One at a time," he said.
"Ladies first," the Doctor said, gesturing for Martha to precede him.
She walked forward down the short corridor and passed through the wall-mounted scanner, which lit up yellow, then green. Since no alarms went off and no one stopped her, she kept going until she reached the doorway at the end, then turned and waited for the Doctor. He strode down the corridor after her, and Martha saw the scanner light up orange, then green.
"Probably registers a different colour initially, according to what race you are," he said.
She nodded her understanding, then accepted his arm again as he pushed open the door into the main part of the club. She blinked a bit at the multi-coloured strobe lighting and the loud music that assaulted her senses as they crossed the threshold.
The Doctor frowned. "Perhaps we'll just have a quick drink and go?" he suggested.
Martha nodded and they crossed to the bar where he ordered them both a soft drink. She leant against the edge of the bar and looked across at the stage where four humanoids were - well she supposed they were playing music, but she found it a rather discordant cacophony.
The Doctor leaned down to speak in her ear. "New Rock, it's called."
"I think I prefer the old sort," she answered.
He nodded, then turned and grabbed their drinks. "Shall we find a seat?"
"Over there?" She pointed to a small table, not too far from the door, that was empty.
"You grab it," he suggested, "and I'll follow."
Martha slipped between the crowded tables and settled at the one she'd spotted. The Doctor followed her, setting their drinks down with a small sigh of relief that he hadn't spilt any.
"What is this stuff?" Martha asked, taking a cautious sip. "Tastes fruity."
"That's what it is," he answered. "A blend of fruit juices." He took some and rolled it around his mouth. "Hmm, something with a bit of a kick in there." He looked thoughtful.
"Are you saying it's not OK to drink?" Martha asked, her glass halfway to her lips.
He swallowed. "Nah, it should be OK. I specified non-alcoholic drinks."
It was so noisy that they didn't bother trying to converse, they just drank and watched the other patrons who appeared to be enjoying the 'New Rock' a good deal more than either Martha or the Doctor.
She was slightly surprised when the Time Lord slung his right arm around her and began to lightly stroke the nape of her neck. Looking around, she saw him smiling softly, and impulsively leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth. He murmured in a pleased way, and she dropped her left hand down to run it up and down his thigh as she kissed him a second time. He moved his hand to hold the back of her head as he angled his mouth towards hers.
"You taste good," he murmured.
"And you," she answered, before running her tongue across his lips. Martha could feel desire burning through her body and felt surprised in a small corner of her brain, but lust was quickly overcoming the surprise.
She allowed her hand to drift across his thigh and brush against his crotch, noting with pleasure that he was becoming aroused.
The Doctor suddenly jerked back from Martha, her touch somehow breaking through the haze of lust that was filling his mind.
"Um, I don't think this is a good idea," he said breathlessly.
"We're two consenting adults, aren't we?" Martha asked, equally as breathless.
Before the Doctor could answer, the bouncer from earlier appeared beside him, flanked by two equally stocky humanoids.
"Upstairs," he said.
"What?" asked the Doctor, puzzled. He glanced across at Martha and saw momentary confusion cross her features, before she gave him a seductive smile.
"I think we're being offered a room," she said.
The Time Lord looked up at the bouncer, who nodded. "You will entertain us."
"What?" asked the Doctor again, feeling as if he'd missed out on part of the conversation.
"You will couple and we will broadcast it to our patrons."
"Now, just hang on," the Doctor said, standing up. "We don't have to do anything of the sort."
The bouncer stepped closer. "The management beg to differ," he snarled, his voice dangerous, despite its softness. "You perform, or you die. Either way, it'll be entertaining."
"I don't think so," the Time Lord said, pulling Martha to her feet, trying to ignore his reactions as she immediately pressed her body against his. He realised now, too late, that the kick in the drink was from a drug, presumably an aphrodisiac, and he wondered if the management knew he wasn't human.
"I do," the bouncer replied, pulling two small laser pistols from the back of his belt. His colleagues each drew two more weapons, and all six were pointed unwaveringly at the Doctor and Martha.
"I guess we'll just have to go along with them," his companion giggled, as she brushed her hand across his crotch again.
The Doctor nodded reluctantly and followed the first bouncer at a gesture from one of the others. They were led out of the main room and up a flight of stairs into a large bedroom lavishly decorated in a rich red that was almost the colour of blood.
He glanced around and saw several small cameras positioned around the room and felt a prickle of apprehension. Martha was clearly still feeling the effects of the spiked drink as she promptly kicked off her shoes, then tugged at the Doctor's arm, trying to get him to move over to the bed.
"Give 'im some more Onskan," commanded the bouncer.
One of the others held out a glass; the Doctor suspected it was his glass from earlier, since it wasn't even half empty, and he knew he hadn't drunk as much as Martha.
"Drink it!"
He accepted the glass and swallowed the drink down quickly, realising that there was no way out of this except to comply with what was being demanded of them. The glass was taken from him and two of the bouncers backed out.
"You'll be released when you've finished," the third one said. He went out too and the Doctor heard the door being locked.
He turned to Martha and found her draped across the bed, giving him a heated look. He swallowed hard as he felt his body responding to the drug and her look.
"Come here big boy." She beckoned to him and he pulled off his shoes and socks, then approached the bed.
"Martha, are you sure about this?" he asked as he climbed onto the bed beside her.
She pulled him down on top of her and began kissing him hungrily without bothering to answer. Within minutes they were both naked and the Doctor was on his back with Martha straddling him. He'd given up trying to fight either the drug or her desire, but a small corner of his mind was worrying that once the drug was out of her system she would hate him for not being able to resist it.
They were both so aroused that it didn't take long for either of them to climax and the Doctor immediately felt the effects of the drug wearing off; Martha, however, being of a different species, did not shake it off as quickly and he had to help her to dress again once he was clothed. He guided her to the door, which he'd heard being unlocked as he'd dressed, and helped her down the stairs.
At the foot of the stairs, he saw the first of the bouncers standing next to a short, smirking, human male, all smarm and greasy hair. When he saw the Doctor's expression, his smirk faded, sliding off his face like a custard pie, leaving him looking stupid. The Time Lord wondered if he was wearing his 'Oncoming Storm' expression and hoped so; he leant into the man's face and spoke softly, yet menacingly.
"You'll regret that." He straightened back up, then picked up Martha, who was leaning sleepily against him, and carried her out of the nightclub and back to the TARDIS.
Once back on his ship, he took his companion to the Med Bay to check that the drug was leaving her system and not going to cause any ill effects. Satisfied that she would merely feel the equivalent of a mild hangover, for which he would be able to give her a cure, he picked her up again and took her to her room. He carefully laid her on her bed and pulled the sheet up over her. He didn't want to undress her, although he was sure she would be more comfortable in her pyjamas, because he felt he'd taken enough liberties with her for one evening.
He walked down the corridor to his own room and took a shower, trying to wash away his guilt and shame at what they'd done. The fact that he'd wanted to make love to Martha for some time wasn't relevant, any more than the fact that they'd been drugged and forced into it. He'd never expected to act on his desire for Martha; she'd made it quite clear over the years since she'd first walked out on him that she was over him. He knew she loved him and cared about him, but it was the love of good friends who'd been through hell together. Martha didn't want him as a lover, but that was OK because he knew he wasn't good enough for her, could never be good enough for her.
After he'd showered and dressed again, the Doctor went back to the Control Room and used the computer to look up details about the authorities in charge of licensing The Blue Lagoon, then he pulled on his coat and walked down the ramp. He paused at the doors, then walked back up and wrote a quick note to Martha, which he attached to the monitor just in case she woke up before he returned.
* * * * * *
The Doctor returned two hours later to find his note still attached to the monitor and felt relieved Martha hadn't woken in his absence. He pulled it off and scrunched it up, then headed to the kitchen where he made a large pot of fresh coffee; he wasn't sure how long Martha would sleep, but he suspected it might be a few hours. He couldn't face going to bed: he didn't want to risk dreaming about what they'd done, so he drank mug after mug of coffee to counter the sleep-inducing effects of the drug on his system. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that the owner and staff of The Blue Lagoon would not be able to drug anyone else in order to provide cheap entertainment for their patrons.
* * * * * *
Two more hours passed before the TARDIS made the Doctor aware that Martha was beginning to awaken and he immediately went to the Med Bay to fetch the hangover cure for her, then headed to her room.
He knocked on her door and a moment later she opened it, still in her purple dress, and looking a little bleary-eyed.
"I brought you something for your head," he said softly.
"Thanks." She stepped away from the door, allowing him to enter.
"Take three drops of this in some water," he told her, holding out the small bottle.
She took it from him, and he noted that she was avoiding making eye contact with him, and that she took the bottle carefully so that her fingers didn't touch his.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, as he crossed to the bathroom to fetch her a glass of water.
"Groggy," she answered.
He came back out of the bathroom and set the glass down on her bedside table. "That'll pass once you've taken this," he told her, gesturing at the bottle.
Martha took the hint and unscrewed the top of the bottle, finding a little dropper fixed in the cap. She allowed three drops of the pale yellow liquid to fall into the glass, then picked it up and swirled the water around until the drops had mixed in. She drank the mixture quickly, pulling a wry face at the taste.
"It'll take about half an hour to work," he told her.
"Think I'll go and have a bath then." She moved off the bed and the Doctor immediately headed towards the door.
"I'll be in the Control Room when you're ready."
She gave him a nod, then disappeared into her bathroom, leaving the Time Lord to head back to the Control Room. He wondered if she was as embarrassed by what had happened as she seemed to be, and hoped she would be able to move past it, just as he was determined to do.
Now
The Doctor opened his eyes. Even a week later Martha hadn't moved past what they'd done, and he had realised that he was now waiting for her to ask him to take her back home. He knew they couldn't carry on as they were with Martha avoiding him whenever they were on the TARDIS, and barely speaking to him except when necessary. Two days ago she'd tripped over when they'd been running to the TARDIS, and she'd refused to let him carry her or even hold his hand so that he could help her along. They'd barely made it to the ship ahead of the Gradig that had been chasing them, intending to have them for breakfast. Once safely through the doors of the TARDIS, the Doctor had scolded Martha but she'd simply walked away, heading to the Med Bay to deal with her cut knee and hands, and then to her room to shower and sleep.
He heard a small noise and turning his head, realised that Martha was crying in her sleep. He felt his hearts clench, and reached up to stroke a finger across the back of her hand; she didn't move so he began to quietly sing an old lullaby from his childhood to her. As he sang, she turned her hand over until she was holding his, and he felt tears start into his eyes; he watched her face as he sang, seeing it relax and her tears cease, and felt relieved that he was able to do this much for her if nothing else.
* * * * * *
Martha slept for three hours, her hand holding the Doctor's all the time, which he took as a good sign. When he sensed her waking up he relaxed his fingers, but she tightened her hold as her eyes opened.
"Hello." He smiled softly at her and felt disproportionately pleased when she smiled back.
"Hello." She looked down at her hand holding his and gave his fingers a squeeze before pulling it away to rub her eyes. "How long was I asleep?"
"About three hours," he answered.
She sat up, rolling her head around. "I dreamt you were singing to me," she said.
"I did sing to you," he answered. "You were crying in your sleep and I sang you a lullaby."
"I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "You've nothing to be sorry about."
She looked down at her hands in her lap. "I don't agree. I've been treating you unfairly. What happened was my doing as much as yours, more even."
He tilted his head to one side, giving her a considering look. "How do you figure that out?"
"You were trying to resist the drug," she answered. "I didn't even try."
He got up off the floor and sat next to her on the bed. "Neither of us had any real choice in the matter," he reminded her. "If we had, that's not how I'd have chosen to do it."
That brought her head up quickly, a surprised expression on her face. "You mean, you've thought about us - " She broke off uncertainly.
He nodded, blushing. "Once or twice," he said softly. "You're a very beautiful woman, Martha Jones, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about making love to you. I never expected to have the chance, of course."
She leant against him, tucking her head under his chin and he carefully moved his arm to drape it around her shoulders.
"I could take the memory away, if you like?" he suggested.
"No. You offered me that before, after you rewound that year when the Master was in charge. Everyone has bad memories, but they make the good ones better. After all, you cannot appreciate the light without experiencing the darkness."
"You're a wise woman, Martha, and very brave too." He kissed her hair. "I consider myself very lucky to have you at my side."
Before Martha could answer, the door to their cell was unlocked and opened, and they looked up to see a guard standing there.
"You may go," he said.
"But what about the charges?" Martha asked, surprised.
"Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth, shall we?" suggested the Doctor, who was already on his feet. He held out his hand to her and she took it, allowing him to lead her out of the cell. The Time Lord gave the guard a brief nod, and then they headed out of the prison to find the TARDIS waiting for them.
"That was lucky," Martha observed as she let them into the ship.
"Yes it was." The Doctor moved to the console and set about getting them away from Forsona. Martha didn't need to know that their imprisonment had been a set-up so that he could get her to finally talk to him.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Ten
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warning: Rated for mentions of drugs and sexual situations.
Summary: The Doctor and Martha are imprisoned and talk about recent events.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: This is the third fic in my AU 'verse that started about 18 months after "The Doctor's Daughter". The previous two stories are Zero She Flies and Song of the Stars.
This one is much darker and less fluffy than the preceding two, and the idea was sparked, in part, by nostalgia_lj's fic Informed Consent and a conversation in the comments there, but also by a lot of time spent listening to Al Stewart's "Zero She Flies".
~~~~~~
"I think we should talk about what happened on Lussuria." The Doctor's voice was soft but firm.
Martha shook her head without looking at him where he leant against the wall by the door. "There's no point. We did what we had to do. It hasn't changed anything between us."
He pushed himself away from the wall and crossed the small cell to crouch beside the bed where she sat. "I disagree. It's changed everything between us."
She briefly met his eyes, sparks of anger in her own. "It hasn't," she said insistently.
"Martha, it has." He reached out to touch her hand and she flinched, moving it away. "See? You can barely stand to look at me, and you won't let me touch you, even to hold your hand when we're running away."
He withdrew his hand, then rubbed it over his face. "If we don't talk about this, it's going to fester between us and ruin our friendship, and I don't want that."
"What about what I want?" she asked fiercely.
"I don't know what you want," he answered, "because you won't talk to me." He tried not to sound angry or bitter, after all it wasn't Martha's fault. They'd been forced into the situation and it had been a case of comply or die.
"Right now, I just want to sleep. We've had an exhausting day and my body clock tells me it's been 24 hours since I last slept. And although you can manage on very little sleep, I can't."
"Very well." The Doctor moved away and watched as she settled down on the hard mattress on a shelf that served as a bed in their prison cell. He was still hopeful that he could persuade her to talk to him, but she was right about needing her sleep after their long day.
Once he was certain Martha was asleep, which didn't take long, he moved back across the cell to sit on the floor near her head. He leaned his own head against the wall and closed his eyes, wondering if he should offer to remove the memory of what they'd done. He didn't like tampering with people's memories, but there was very little he wouldn't do for Martha Jones, if she wanted it.
A week ago.
"So where are we?" Martha asked as she bounded down the ramp ahead of the Doctor.
"Lussuria. It's a pleasure planet - everyone in this sector of the galaxy comes here for vacations. There are spas, restaurants, hotels, nightclubs, theatres, cinemas, sports facilities - just about every amenity you can think of to provide entertainment."
"Sounds like fun," she said, grinning up at him as she pulled open the door. "So, how long are we staying here?"
"Ooooh a couple of days, at least, I reckon. After toppling two corrupt governments, saving three planets, and preventing a civil war in the last couple of weeks, I reckon we've earned a couple of days R&R."
He grabbed her hand and they headed towards the nearest group of brightly-lit buildings, their arms swinging back and forth between them.
"Dinner and a nightclub sound good?" asked the Time Lord.
"Sounds very good," Martha answered, grinning up at him, her eyes alight with pleasure.
He grinned back, thinking how lucky he was that she had finally agreed to travel with him again. In the last four months they'd travelled extensively across Time and Space, seeing wonders, saving planets, meeting new people, and occasionally causing trouble.
They found a quiet restaurant with separate booths and settled down to eat heartily, enjoying the fact that they didn't have to prepare and cook the meal before they could eat it. They discussed their recent adventures, and soon began bickering amiably about the merits of the heroes in Jane Austen's novels; she'd been the last historical person they'd met and ever since the Doctor had been trying to persuade Martha that Captain Wentworth was as good a suitor as Mr Darcy.
"You're just biased because of Colin Firth in that wet shirt," the Doctor said, pouting.
Martha quirked an eyebrow at him. "I haven't seen the BBC production," she said.
"What?" he yelped, disbelievingly. "That's - that's - words fail me!"
"I should mark this date down in my diary," she joked, laughing when he spluttered in outrage.
"Clearly your education has been deficient, and I will have to rectify that at the earliest opportunity," he said, once he'd recovered.
"Sounds good to me," Martha said cheerfully as she finished her chocolate cheesecake, then swallowed the last of her wine.
"Do you want some coffee before we go?"
She shook her head. "No thanks."
The Doctor signalled for the waiter and requested the bill.
"I'm just going to powder my nose," Martha said, getting up.
He grinned. "Does it need powder? It's a very lovely nose."
She swiped at his shoulder in passing. "You're daft!"
"True." He watched her walk across the restaurant, smiling with amusement.
"Sir." The waited pulled his attention back and he paid the bill.
Martha returned after a few minutes and he grinned at the way every eye in the room was drawn to her. She'd become such a beautiful, elegant woman and it wasn't unusual for people to watch her as she passed. He knew she'd never become comfortable with the scrutiny, but at least she was used to it by now.
He offered her his arm. "Shall we Doctor Jones?"
"Yes let's, Mister Smith." She slipped her arm through his and allowed him to guide her back outside.
"I thought we might try The Blue Lagoon," he said as they walked further up the crowded, noisy street. "They frequently have live music acts."
"Sounds good to me."
They reached a large building with music pouring out of the open windows and door. "Oh, they've redecorated," the Doctor said, sounding slightly disappointed.
"How long is it since you were here?" asked Martha.
"Weeellll, probably a couple of decades," he answered vaguely. "You know how it is, something's always coming up, so getting back here hasn't been easy."
"I know very well how it is," she agreed.
He glanced down at her. "There's always more running than R&R with me, I'm afraid." His voice was soft and slightly regretful.
She squeezed his arm. "I knew what I signed on for when I came back to travel with you again. It was my choice."
"True. Right! Enough melancholy, let's go and have some fun!" He gave her a huge grin and they headed towards the entrance to The Blue Lagoon.
Reaching the doorway, they were stopped by a tall, bulky, blue-skinned humanoid. "You'll be scanned," he told them gruffly. "Make sure you're not carrying weapons, 'cos we don't want trouble."
"Good!" exclaimed the Doctor. "We don't want trouble either, just a pleasant evening."
The bouncer, if that was what he was, frowned a bit. "One at a time," he said.
"Ladies first," the Doctor said, gesturing for Martha to precede him.
She walked forward down the short corridor and passed through the wall-mounted scanner, which lit up yellow, then green. Since no alarms went off and no one stopped her, she kept going until she reached the doorway at the end, then turned and waited for the Doctor. He strode down the corridor after her, and Martha saw the scanner light up orange, then green.
"Probably registers a different colour initially, according to what race you are," he said.
She nodded her understanding, then accepted his arm again as he pushed open the door into the main part of the club. She blinked a bit at the multi-coloured strobe lighting and the loud music that assaulted her senses as they crossed the threshold.
The Doctor frowned. "Perhaps we'll just have a quick drink and go?" he suggested.
Martha nodded and they crossed to the bar where he ordered them both a soft drink. She leant against the edge of the bar and looked across at the stage where four humanoids were - well she supposed they were playing music, but she found it a rather discordant cacophony.
The Doctor leaned down to speak in her ear. "New Rock, it's called."
"I think I prefer the old sort," she answered.
He nodded, then turned and grabbed their drinks. "Shall we find a seat?"
"Over there?" She pointed to a small table, not too far from the door, that was empty.
"You grab it," he suggested, "and I'll follow."
Martha slipped between the crowded tables and settled at the one she'd spotted. The Doctor followed her, setting their drinks down with a small sigh of relief that he hadn't spilt any.
"What is this stuff?" Martha asked, taking a cautious sip. "Tastes fruity."
"That's what it is," he answered. "A blend of fruit juices." He took some and rolled it around his mouth. "Hmm, something with a bit of a kick in there." He looked thoughtful.
"Are you saying it's not OK to drink?" Martha asked, her glass halfway to her lips.
He swallowed. "Nah, it should be OK. I specified non-alcoholic drinks."
It was so noisy that they didn't bother trying to converse, they just drank and watched the other patrons who appeared to be enjoying the 'New Rock' a good deal more than either Martha or the Doctor.
She was slightly surprised when the Time Lord slung his right arm around her and began to lightly stroke the nape of her neck. Looking around, she saw him smiling softly, and impulsively leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth. He murmured in a pleased way, and she dropped her left hand down to run it up and down his thigh as she kissed him a second time. He moved his hand to hold the back of her head as he angled his mouth towards hers.
"You taste good," he murmured.
"And you," she answered, before running her tongue across his lips. Martha could feel desire burning through her body and felt surprised in a small corner of her brain, but lust was quickly overcoming the surprise.
She allowed her hand to drift across his thigh and brush against his crotch, noting with pleasure that he was becoming aroused.
The Doctor suddenly jerked back from Martha, her touch somehow breaking through the haze of lust that was filling his mind.
"Um, I don't think this is a good idea," he said breathlessly.
"We're two consenting adults, aren't we?" Martha asked, equally as breathless.
Before the Doctor could answer, the bouncer from earlier appeared beside him, flanked by two equally stocky humanoids.
"Upstairs," he said.
"What?" asked the Doctor, puzzled. He glanced across at Martha and saw momentary confusion cross her features, before she gave him a seductive smile.
"I think we're being offered a room," she said.
The Time Lord looked up at the bouncer, who nodded. "You will entertain us."
"What?" asked the Doctor again, feeling as if he'd missed out on part of the conversation.
"You will couple and we will broadcast it to our patrons."
"Now, just hang on," the Doctor said, standing up. "We don't have to do anything of the sort."
The bouncer stepped closer. "The management beg to differ," he snarled, his voice dangerous, despite its softness. "You perform, or you die. Either way, it'll be entertaining."
"I don't think so," the Time Lord said, pulling Martha to her feet, trying to ignore his reactions as she immediately pressed her body against his. He realised now, too late, that the kick in the drink was from a drug, presumably an aphrodisiac, and he wondered if the management knew he wasn't human.
"I do," the bouncer replied, pulling two small laser pistols from the back of his belt. His colleagues each drew two more weapons, and all six were pointed unwaveringly at the Doctor and Martha.
"I guess we'll just have to go along with them," his companion giggled, as she brushed her hand across his crotch again.
The Doctor nodded reluctantly and followed the first bouncer at a gesture from one of the others. They were led out of the main room and up a flight of stairs into a large bedroom lavishly decorated in a rich red that was almost the colour of blood.
He glanced around and saw several small cameras positioned around the room and felt a prickle of apprehension. Martha was clearly still feeling the effects of the spiked drink as she promptly kicked off her shoes, then tugged at the Doctor's arm, trying to get him to move over to the bed.
"Give 'im some more Onskan," commanded the bouncer.
One of the others held out a glass; the Doctor suspected it was his glass from earlier, since it wasn't even half empty, and he knew he hadn't drunk as much as Martha.
"Drink it!"
He accepted the glass and swallowed the drink down quickly, realising that there was no way out of this except to comply with what was being demanded of them. The glass was taken from him and two of the bouncers backed out.
"You'll be released when you've finished," the third one said. He went out too and the Doctor heard the door being locked.
He turned to Martha and found her draped across the bed, giving him a heated look. He swallowed hard as he felt his body responding to the drug and her look.
"Come here big boy." She beckoned to him and he pulled off his shoes and socks, then approached the bed.
"Martha, are you sure about this?" he asked as he climbed onto the bed beside her.
She pulled him down on top of her and began kissing him hungrily without bothering to answer. Within minutes they were both naked and the Doctor was on his back with Martha straddling him. He'd given up trying to fight either the drug or her desire, but a small corner of his mind was worrying that once the drug was out of her system she would hate him for not being able to resist it.
They were both so aroused that it didn't take long for either of them to climax and the Doctor immediately felt the effects of the drug wearing off; Martha, however, being of a different species, did not shake it off as quickly and he had to help her to dress again once he was clothed. He guided her to the door, which he'd heard being unlocked as he'd dressed, and helped her down the stairs.
At the foot of the stairs, he saw the first of the bouncers standing next to a short, smirking, human male, all smarm and greasy hair. When he saw the Doctor's expression, his smirk faded, sliding off his face like a custard pie, leaving him looking stupid. The Time Lord wondered if he was wearing his 'Oncoming Storm' expression and hoped so; he leant into the man's face and spoke softly, yet menacingly.
"You'll regret that." He straightened back up, then picked up Martha, who was leaning sleepily against him, and carried her out of the nightclub and back to the TARDIS.
Once back on his ship, he took his companion to the Med Bay to check that the drug was leaving her system and not going to cause any ill effects. Satisfied that she would merely feel the equivalent of a mild hangover, for which he would be able to give her a cure, he picked her up again and took her to her room. He carefully laid her on her bed and pulled the sheet up over her. He didn't want to undress her, although he was sure she would be more comfortable in her pyjamas, because he felt he'd taken enough liberties with her for one evening.
He walked down the corridor to his own room and took a shower, trying to wash away his guilt and shame at what they'd done. The fact that he'd wanted to make love to Martha for some time wasn't relevant, any more than the fact that they'd been drugged and forced into it. He'd never expected to act on his desire for Martha; she'd made it quite clear over the years since she'd first walked out on him that she was over him. He knew she loved him and cared about him, but it was the love of good friends who'd been through hell together. Martha didn't want him as a lover, but that was OK because he knew he wasn't good enough for her, could never be good enough for her.
After he'd showered and dressed again, the Doctor went back to the Control Room and used the computer to look up details about the authorities in charge of licensing The Blue Lagoon, then he pulled on his coat and walked down the ramp. He paused at the doors, then walked back up and wrote a quick note to Martha, which he attached to the monitor just in case she woke up before he returned.
* * * * * *
The Doctor returned two hours later to find his note still attached to the monitor and felt relieved Martha hadn't woken in his absence. He pulled it off and scrunched it up, then headed to the kitchen where he made a large pot of fresh coffee; he wasn't sure how long Martha would sleep, but he suspected it might be a few hours. He couldn't face going to bed: he didn't want to risk dreaming about what they'd done, so he drank mug after mug of coffee to counter the sleep-inducing effects of the drug on his system. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that the owner and staff of The Blue Lagoon would not be able to drug anyone else in order to provide cheap entertainment for their patrons.
* * * * * *
Two more hours passed before the TARDIS made the Doctor aware that Martha was beginning to awaken and he immediately went to the Med Bay to fetch the hangover cure for her, then headed to her room.
He knocked on her door and a moment later she opened it, still in her purple dress, and looking a little bleary-eyed.
"I brought you something for your head," he said softly.
"Thanks." She stepped away from the door, allowing him to enter.
"Take three drops of this in some water," he told her, holding out the small bottle.
She took it from him, and he noted that she was avoiding making eye contact with him, and that she took the bottle carefully so that her fingers didn't touch his.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, as he crossed to the bathroom to fetch her a glass of water.
"Groggy," she answered.
He came back out of the bathroom and set the glass down on her bedside table. "That'll pass once you've taken this," he told her, gesturing at the bottle.
Martha took the hint and unscrewed the top of the bottle, finding a little dropper fixed in the cap. She allowed three drops of the pale yellow liquid to fall into the glass, then picked it up and swirled the water around until the drops had mixed in. She drank the mixture quickly, pulling a wry face at the taste.
"It'll take about half an hour to work," he told her.
"Think I'll go and have a bath then." She moved off the bed and the Doctor immediately headed towards the door.
"I'll be in the Control Room when you're ready."
She gave him a nod, then disappeared into her bathroom, leaving the Time Lord to head back to the Control Room. He wondered if she was as embarrassed by what had happened as she seemed to be, and hoped she would be able to move past it, just as he was determined to do.
Now
The Doctor opened his eyes. Even a week later Martha hadn't moved past what they'd done, and he had realised that he was now waiting for her to ask him to take her back home. He knew they couldn't carry on as they were with Martha avoiding him whenever they were on the TARDIS, and barely speaking to him except when necessary. Two days ago she'd tripped over when they'd been running to the TARDIS, and she'd refused to let him carry her or even hold his hand so that he could help her along. They'd barely made it to the ship ahead of the Gradig that had been chasing them, intending to have them for breakfast. Once safely through the doors of the TARDIS, the Doctor had scolded Martha but she'd simply walked away, heading to the Med Bay to deal with her cut knee and hands, and then to her room to shower and sleep.
He heard a small noise and turning his head, realised that Martha was crying in her sleep. He felt his hearts clench, and reached up to stroke a finger across the back of her hand; she didn't move so he began to quietly sing an old lullaby from his childhood to her. As he sang, she turned her hand over until she was holding his, and he felt tears start into his eyes; he watched her face as he sang, seeing it relax and her tears cease, and felt relieved that he was able to do this much for her if nothing else.
* * * * * *
Martha slept for three hours, her hand holding the Doctor's all the time, which he took as a good sign. When he sensed her waking up he relaxed his fingers, but she tightened her hold as her eyes opened.
"Hello." He smiled softly at her and felt disproportionately pleased when she smiled back.
"Hello." She looked down at her hand holding his and gave his fingers a squeeze before pulling it away to rub her eyes. "How long was I asleep?"
"About three hours," he answered.
She sat up, rolling her head around. "I dreamt you were singing to me," she said.
"I did sing to you," he answered. "You were crying in your sleep and I sang you a lullaby."
"I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "You've nothing to be sorry about."
She looked down at her hands in her lap. "I don't agree. I've been treating you unfairly. What happened was my doing as much as yours, more even."
He tilted his head to one side, giving her a considering look. "How do you figure that out?"
"You were trying to resist the drug," she answered. "I didn't even try."
He got up off the floor and sat next to her on the bed. "Neither of us had any real choice in the matter," he reminded her. "If we had, that's not how I'd have chosen to do it."
That brought her head up quickly, a surprised expression on her face. "You mean, you've thought about us - " She broke off uncertainly.
He nodded, blushing. "Once or twice," he said softly. "You're a very beautiful woman, Martha Jones, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about making love to you. I never expected to have the chance, of course."
She leant against him, tucking her head under his chin and he carefully moved his arm to drape it around her shoulders.
"I could take the memory away, if you like?" he suggested.
"No. You offered me that before, after you rewound that year when the Master was in charge. Everyone has bad memories, but they make the good ones better. After all, you cannot appreciate the light without experiencing the darkness."
"You're a wise woman, Martha, and very brave too." He kissed her hair. "I consider myself very lucky to have you at my side."
Before Martha could answer, the door to their cell was unlocked and opened, and they looked up to see a guard standing there.
"You may go," he said.
"But what about the charges?" Martha asked, surprised.
"Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth, shall we?" suggested the Doctor, who was already on his feet. He held out his hand to her and she took it, allowing him to lead her out of the cell. The Time Lord gave the guard a brief nod, and then they headed out of the prison to find the TARDIS waiting for them.
"That was lucky," Martha observed as she let them into the ship.
"Yes it was." The Doctor moved to the console and set about getting them away from Forsona. Martha didn't need to know that their imprisonment had been a set-up so that he could get her to finally talk to him.