Farringham 1913 - Epilogue
Title: Farringham 1913 - Epilogue
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Tenth Doctor/Martha
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Spoilers: Season 3 up to and including Human Nature/Family of Blood
Summary: The Doctor and Martha sort some things out.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and all that jazz…
Author Notes: The idea for this fic turned up ages ago, but Ten!Bunny waited until silly o'clock the other morning to bite me for it ! The idea I had was for a fic in which John Smith doesn't fall for Joan Redfern, but does notice that someone is paying attention to Martha. This fic covers John Smith's and the Tenth Doctor's (once he's got his Time Lord essence back) reactions to the events that ensue. The Family don't show up at any point so Martha just has to wait out the three months until they die, coping as best she can.
This is the first fic I've written that uses flashbacks extensively - hopefully they'll work; I wanted to show how Martha learned to cope in 1913 and this seemed to be the way to write the fic.
This is the Epilogue that some little Olivers (who shall remain nameless - but they know who they are !!) demanded - and with whom Ten!Bunny (treacherous beast!) concurred.
Chapter One; Chapter Two; Chapter Three; Chapter Four and Chapter Five
~~~~~~
Martha woke abruptly from a dream filled with fire and heat to the realisation that there was someone sharing the bed with her; she could feel a long, cool body pressed against her back and a pair of arms were wrapped around her middle. She frowned in puzzlement, wondering if she had fallen asleep in John's bed.
"Martha." The quiet voice in her ear disproved that theory; the Doctor sounded quite different to John Smith. He loosened his grasp on her and shifted away so that she could move. Martha rolled onto her back and looked up at the Doctor as he used his right arm to prop up his head. "Hello."
"Hello Doctor."
"How are you feeling?"
"A bit better. Hungry, and tired still, but not exhausted like I was earlier."
"Good. We'll get something to eat in a bit. We could even have a picnic if you like?" Martha raised an eyebrow at him. "Here, on the TARDIS, a guaranteed monster-free location."
She nodded, unsure what to make of the Doctor at the moment. He'd barely spoken to her or looked at her once he'd opened the watch and transformed back into himself, then they'd had a blazing row, followed by sex in which he'd established a telepathic link with her that had knocked her out. Yet here he was, lying in her bed and suggesting a picnic as if none of it had happened.
She was about to voice her confusion when the Doctor picked up her left hand from where it lay on the bed and bestowed a soft kiss on her palm. Martha felt her jaw go slack as he then proceeded to kiss each of her fingers, then her thumb, in turn. She watched, mesmerised, as he turned her hand over and kissed each of her knuckles, then the back of her hand. He set her hand down gently on her stomach as if it was a precious object, then picked up her right hand and repeated the kisses.
"The TARDIS has got some salves and lotions in the med bay that will speed up the healing process on your hands," he said. "We'll go and have a look for them later." Martha nodded, still too surprised to speak. "How are your back and shoulders?"
"What?" She felt as if she was struggling to keep up with him.
"I thought your back and shoulders might be aching from all that lifting and floor scrubbing you had to do. I wondered if you wanted a massage." He glanced down at her, his eyes dark. "Only if you want one, though."
Martha considered for a moment. It was true she did still ache - her earlier shower had helped, but a massage would help more. "OK."
He nodded. "Take off your pyjama top then." He moved off the bed and picked up his jacket, rooting in one pocket for a moment. Martha unbuttoned her top and pulled it off, then stretched out on her stomach. The Doctor set a small bottle down on top of the bedside locker, then began to unbutton his shirt.
"Jasmine," he said, when Martha squinted up at the label.
She nodded, then closed her eyes as he pulled his shirt off. She had a sudden memory of undressing John the last time they had made love and wished she hadn't recalled that at this precise moment. She kept her eyes firmly closed as the Doctor knelt on the bed, one knee either side of her body, then the scent of Jasmine filled the air. Martha breathed deeply, then remembered that one of the effects of Jasmine was stimulation and wondered at the Doctor's choice, and the fact that he apparently carried a bottle of aromatherapy oil around in his pocket. She was distracted the next moment when the Doctor's hands touched her shoulders, causing her to shiver a little.
"OK?"
"Yes. It's just that your hands are a bit cold."
"Sorry."
"It's OK." And it was OK, she realised as he began to massage her neck and shoulders, working his long, slender fingers into the knots in her muscles. She felt herself relaxing and the Doctor was half way down her back before she realised two things in quick succession: the Jasmine was having its intended effect and the Doctor was no longer wearing his trousers - she could feel his cool bare skin on her legs. She swallowed hard and tried to think of something else. By the time the Doctor reached the small of her back, Martha was biting the inside of her cheek and wondering how she was managing to keep silent.
His hands stilled, resting just above the waistband of her knickers. "Martha?" His voice was husky and seductive.
She took a deep breath, then lifted her head a little from the pillow so that she could speak. "Yes."
He moved forward so that he was leaning over her, his hands resting on the bed beside her shoulders, his knees either side of hers. "Martha Jones, I want to make love to you."
She almost whimpered before turning her head to look up into his face as he leaned over her. There was tenderness and desire in his eyes, a look she'd only ever seen in John Smith's eyes before.
"You said earlier that John Smith broke through my programming because part of me wanted you, and you were right. I wanted you when I was him, but I wanted you before that too, and I want you again now. Will you have me, Martha Jones?" He'd leant forward so that his weight was on his knees and elbows, his body caging hers, but she didn't feel trapped.
"Yes," she breathed. She rolled over onto her back and he leant down to kiss her, his lips cool and firm on hers. She sensed that he was holding himself back, perhaps in deference to their earlier encounter. He kissed her with hunger and passion, but he was gentle nonetheless, and she relaxed into his kisses, remembering when he'd been John Smith and kissed her this way.
When the Doctor finally pulled away and allowed her to catch her breath, Martha felt as if she might explode with desire. He silently rested his forehead against hers for a few moments whilst she caught her breath. "I'm not him," he said, "but I have his memories, and I remember what you liked him to do. There was one thing, though, that he never did, probably because he wasn't as liberated as you." He lifted his head and looked down into her face. "Your 21st century liberalism surprised him sometimes."
He began to move back down her body and Martha watched as he pulled off her knickers, sliding them slowly down her legs, before dropping them onto the floor. He placed a hand on each knee, then bent forward and kissed each of her thighs in turn. She moaned involuntarily as he gently pushed her thighs apart then dragged his tongue, with agonising slowness, up the length of her entrance. Her hips bucked up off the bed and she gasped as his tongue began to explore every inch of her skin. Tremors ran through her body and she clutched the sheets tightly as his clever tongue worked its magic on her body.
Martha came hard, flooding his mouth with her pleasure and he hummed in satisfaction; she gasped in surprise, no man ever having done that to her before, but it felt good. She gasped again when the Doctor slid a long finger inside her; he hadn't been lying, she realised, when he said that he remembered what she liked. He added a second finger and began pressing, twisting, stretching and stroking her, giving her multiple orgasms until she could no longer remember where or when she was; she only remembered her own name because he was crooning it to her as he crawled back up her body, planting soft kisses here and there as he moved.
He lay beside her, one finger stroking her cheek as the haze in her mind subsided slowly. "OK?"
It took her two attempts before she could speak, and then she could only sigh breathily, "Yes."
He smiled at her and she smiled back. "It may be just as well John Smith never did that to you," he observed.
"Why?" asked Martha, puzzled.
"If he'd seen you looking the way you're looking now, I doubt he'd have ever wanted to get out of bed."
She blushed, a fiery hue sweeping across her dark skin, and the Doctor bent to kiss her softly. "You're a beautiful woman, Martha Jones. Beautiful and clever, and I don't deserve a Companion like you. But you definitely deserve someone like John Smith, a man who's sweet and lovely, and who's not afraid to love you or show that he cares for you." He drew a deep breath. "I'm dangerous to know Martha Jones, as you've already learnt today, and I don't want to run the risk of hurting you. I already run enough of a risk of you being hurt by other people, or by monsters, or the Universe itself, every time we set foot outside the TARDIS."
"What if I'm prepared to take that risk?" she asked. "You've already hurt me previously."
He looked away sadly, knowing that she spoke the truth. "I'm not worth it," he said softly, unable to meet her eyes.
"What if I think you are?" she demanded. "Don’t I get a say in this? It's not just about sex, although judging by John Smith's performance and the foreplay just now, the sex will be very good." She couldn't help smiling as it was his turn to blush, before she continued. "I want to be friends with you. I want you to teach me everything you can about this Universe, and I want to explore it with you. You call me your Companion, but I want you to call me your friend too. Is that too hard?"
"Martha Jones, I would be honoured to call you my friend." There were tears in his eyes as he spoke and she pulled him into a hug, holding him tight.
"I've got you, Doctor," she whispered in his ear. After a while he relaxed and pulled away to kiss her forehead. "Now make love to me?" she asked and he nodded.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Tenth Doctor/Martha
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Spoilers: Season 3 up to and including Human Nature/Family of Blood
Summary: The Doctor and Martha sort some things out.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and all that jazz…
Author Notes: The idea for this fic turned up ages ago, but Ten!Bunny waited until silly o'clock the other morning to bite me for it ! The idea I had was for a fic in which John Smith doesn't fall for Joan Redfern, but does notice that someone is paying attention to Martha. This fic covers John Smith's and the Tenth Doctor's (once he's got his Time Lord essence back) reactions to the events that ensue. The Family don't show up at any point so Martha just has to wait out the three months until they die, coping as best she can.
This is the first fic I've written that uses flashbacks extensively - hopefully they'll work; I wanted to show how Martha learned to cope in 1913 and this seemed to be the way to write the fic.
This is the Epilogue that some little Olivers (who shall remain nameless - but they know who they are !!) demanded - and with whom Ten!Bunny (treacherous beast!) concurred.
Chapter One; Chapter Two; Chapter Three; Chapter Four and Chapter Five
~~~~~~
Martha woke abruptly from a dream filled with fire and heat to the realisation that there was someone sharing the bed with her; she could feel a long, cool body pressed against her back and a pair of arms were wrapped around her middle. She frowned in puzzlement, wondering if she had fallen asleep in John's bed.
"Martha." The quiet voice in her ear disproved that theory; the Doctor sounded quite different to John Smith. He loosened his grasp on her and shifted away so that she could move. Martha rolled onto her back and looked up at the Doctor as he used his right arm to prop up his head. "Hello."
"Hello Doctor."
"How are you feeling?"
"A bit better. Hungry, and tired still, but not exhausted like I was earlier."
"Good. We'll get something to eat in a bit. We could even have a picnic if you like?" Martha raised an eyebrow at him. "Here, on the TARDIS, a guaranteed monster-free location."
She nodded, unsure what to make of the Doctor at the moment. He'd barely spoken to her or looked at her once he'd opened the watch and transformed back into himself, then they'd had a blazing row, followed by sex in which he'd established a telepathic link with her that had knocked her out. Yet here he was, lying in her bed and suggesting a picnic as if none of it had happened.
She was about to voice her confusion when the Doctor picked up her left hand from where it lay on the bed and bestowed a soft kiss on her palm. Martha felt her jaw go slack as he then proceeded to kiss each of her fingers, then her thumb, in turn. She watched, mesmerised, as he turned her hand over and kissed each of her knuckles, then the back of her hand. He set her hand down gently on her stomach as if it was a precious object, then picked up her right hand and repeated the kisses.
"The TARDIS has got some salves and lotions in the med bay that will speed up the healing process on your hands," he said. "We'll go and have a look for them later." Martha nodded, still too surprised to speak. "How are your back and shoulders?"
"What?" She felt as if she was struggling to keep up with him.
"I thought your back and shoulders might be aching from all that lifting and floor scrubbing you had to do. I wondered if you wanted a massage." He glanced down at her, his eyes dark. "Only if you want one, though."
Martha considered for a moment. It was true she did still ache - her earlier shower had helped, but a massage would help more. "OK."
He nodded. "Take off your pyjama top then." He moved off the bed and picked up his jacket, rooting in one pocket for a moment. Martha unbuttoned her top and pulled it off, then stretched out on her stomach. The Doctor set a small bottle down on top of the bedside locker, then began to unbutton his shirt.
"Jasmine," he said, when Martha squinted up at the label.
She nodded, then closed her eyes as he pulled his shirt off. She had a sudden memory of undressing John the last time they had made love and wished she hadn't recalled that at this precise moment. She kept her eyes firmly closed as the Doctor knelt on the bed, one knee either side of her body, then the scent of Jasmine filled the air. Martha breathed deeply, then remembered that one of the effects of Jasmine was stimulation and wondered at the Doctor's choice, and the fact that he apparently carried a bottle of aromatherapy oil around in his pocket. She was distracted the next moment when the Doctor's hands touched her shoulders, causing her to shiver a little.
"OK?"
"Yes. It's just that your hands are a bit cold."
"Sorry."
"It's OK." And it was OK, she realised as he began to massage her neck and shoulders, working his long, slender fingers into the knots in her muscles. She felt herself relaxing and the Doctor was half way down her back before she realised two things in quick succession: the Jasmine was having its intended effect and the Doctor was no longer wearing his trousers - she could feel his cool bare skin on her legs. She swallowed hard and tried to think of something else. By the time the Doctor reached the small of her back, Martha was biting the inside of her cheek and wondering how she was managing to keep silent.
His hands stilled, resting just above the waistband of her knickers. "Martha?" His voice was husky and seductive.
She took a deep breath, then lifted her head a little from the pillow so that she could speak. "Yes."
He moved forward so that he was leaning over her, his hands resting on the bed beside her shoulders, his knees either side of hers. "Martha Jones, I want to make love to you."
She almost whimpered before turning her head to look up into his face as he leaned over her. There was tenderness and desire in his eyes, a look she'd only ever seen in John Smith's eyes before.
"You said earlier that John Smith broke through my programming because part of me wanted you, and you were right. I wanted you when I was him, but I wanted you before that too, and I want you again now. Will you have me, Martha Jones?" He'd leant forward so that his weight was on his knees and elbows, his body caging hers, but she didn't feel trapped.
"Yes," she breathed. She rolled over onto her back and he leant down to kiss her, his lips cool and firm on hers. She sensed that he was holding himself back, perhaps in deference to their earlier encounter. He kissed her with hunger and passion, but he was gentle nonetheless, and she relaxed into his kisses, remembering when he'd been John Smith and kissed her this way.
When the Doctor finally pulled away and allowed her to catch her breath, Martha felt as if she might explode with desire. He silently rested his forehead against hers for a few moments whilst she caught her breath. "I'm not him," he said, "but I have his memories, and I remember what you liked him to do. There was one thing, though, that he never did, probably because he wasn't as liberated as you." He lifted his head and looked down into her face. "Your 21st century liberalism surprised him sometimes."
He began to move back down her body and Martha watched as he pulled off her knickers, sliding them slowly down her legs, before dropping them onto the floor. He placed a hand on each knee, then bent forward and kissed each of her thighs in turn. She moaned involuntarily as he gently pushed her thighs apart then dragged his tongue, with agonising slowness, up the length of her entrance. Her hips bucked up off the bed and she gasped as his tongue began to explore every inch of her skin. Tremors ran through her body and she clutched the sheets tightly as his clever tongue worked its magic on her body.
Martha came hard, flooding his mouth with her pleasure and he hummed in satisfaction; she gasped in surprise, no man ever having done that to her before, but it felt good. She gasped again when the Doctor slid a long finger inside her; he hadn't been lying, she realised, when he said that he remembered what she liked. He added a second finger and began pressing, twisting, stretching and stroking her, giving her multiple orgasms until she could no longer remember where or when she was; she only remembered her own name because he was crooning it to her as he crawled back up her body, planting soft kisses here and there as he moved.
He lay beside her, one finger stroking her cheek as the haze in her mind subsided slowly. "OK?"
It took her two attempts before she could speak, and then she could only sigh breathily, "Yes."
He smiled at her and she smiled back. "It may be just as well John Smith never did that to you," he observed.
"Why?" asked Martha, puzzled.
"If he'd seen you looking the way you're looking now, I doubt he'd have ever wanted to get out of bed."
She blushed, a fiery hue sweeping across her dark skin, and the Doctor bent to kiss her softly. "You're a beautiful woman, Martha Jones. Beautiful and clever, and I don't deserve a Companion like you. But you definitely deserve someone like John Smith, a man who's sweet and lovely, and who's not afraid to love you or show that he cares for you." He drew a deep breath. "I'm dangerous to know Martha Jones, as you've already learnt today, and I don't want to run the risk of hurting you. I already run enough of a risk of you being hurt by other people, or by monsters, or the Universe itself, every time we set foot outside the TARDIS."
"What if I'm prepared to take that risk?" she asked. "You've already hurt me previously."
He looked away sadly, knowing that she spoke the truth. "I'm not worth it," he said softly, unable to meet her eyes.
"What if I think you are?" she demanded. "Don’t I get a say in this? It's not just about sex, although judging by John Smith's performance and the foreplay just now, the sex will be very good." She couldn't help smiling as it was his turn to blush, before she continued. "I want to be friends with you. I want you to teach me everything you can about this Universe, and I want to explore it with you. You call me your Companion, but I want you to call me your friend too. Is that too hard?"
"Martha Jones, I would be honoured to call you my friend." There were tears in his eyes as he spoke and she pulled him into a hug, holding him tight.
"I've got you, Doctor," she whispered in his ear. After a while he relaxed and pulled away to kiss her forehead. "Now make love to me?" she asked and he nodded.