Nowhere to Hide
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/198954.html">Nowhere to Hide by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha/Ten | Rating: NC-17 | Spoilers: S3 up to 3.09)
Title: Nowhere to Hide
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Ten
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: S3 up to 3.09
Summary: The Doctor experiences Groundhog Day, TARDIS style.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: I wrote this for the kinkmeme sizeofthatthing where the prompt was: Martha/Ten - The Doctor is caught in a time loop (like in Groundhog Day) and the only way of breaking it is to seduce Martha. Unfortunately she's making it difficult for him. Bonus points if it's the TARDIS' doing. Since I adore Groundhog Day and I'd been wanting to write a DW version, I really couldn't resist writing this!
Beta: The awesome fourzoas
~~~~~~
The Doctor said goodbye to Tim Latimer, then stepped inside the TARDIS, throwing his coat over the coral strut before he sent the ship into the Vortex; he wondered where his companion was since she wasn't in the Control Room, waiting to see where they were going next.
She's in her room, the TARDIS told him.
Hello again, old girl, I've missed you. He smiled and ran his fingers lovingly across the console.
And I, you. What are you going to do to make things up to Martha?
The Doctor frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked aloud, surprised by so direct a question from his ship.
She's just been through two months of misery in an attempt to keep you safe. How are you going to make it up to her?
"Oh, I'll think of something, don't worry," he answered breezily, ignoring the hum of discontent that came from his ship. He wandered away to the kitchen for a cup of tea, setting out two mugs as he filled the kettle.
Twenty minutes later Martha's mug was still empty and the pot was getting cold, so he wandered back along the corridor to knock on her door. Getting no answer, he raised his hand to knock again, but the TARDIS gave him a mental poke.
She's sleeping. Now let her get some rest; she deserves it after all she's been through.
The Time Lord rubbed the back of his neck, surprised that his ship was being so forceful. "Alright, no need to give me a headache," he muttered, wandering back down the corridor to his room. Now she mentioned it, a rest wasn't a bad idea: he could definitely do with a snooze himself.
Three hours later, the Doctor woke to the realisation that the TARDIS was landing. Startled, he almost fell off the bed in his haste to get to the Control Room.
"What are you doing, old girl?" he asked aloud as he hurried up the corridor, acutely aware that he had no idea where they were since he hadn't programmed in any coordinates yet.
Reaching the Control Room, he hurried to the console and checked the scanner to discover they'd arrived on Skydeskar, an Earth-like planet in the Vega Opsis system that he'd never visited before. He frowned, puzzled by the TARDIS' choice, then shrugged, deciding that he would probably find a corrupt government that needed overthrowing or a group of people in need of his wisdom and assistance. He grinned in anticipation and then went off to wake Martha.
* * * * * *
Half an hour later, the Doctor was bouncing along like an eager puppy while Martha trudged by his side, bundled up in a thick black duffle coat with wooden toggles, a thick grey roll-neck sweater over her t-shirt, black jeans and black, fur-lined ankle boots. She had found some thick grey gloves and a grey woollen hat in the TARDIS wardrobe and added them to her outfit.
"How do you like your first alien snow?" asked the Time Lord.
"Looks just like Earth snow to me," she answered shortly.
"Aw, don't be like that Martha," he cajoled, nudging her shoulder with his.
"Well it does," she protested. "It's cold, wet and white. There's no difference."
He pouted at her, but she just raised an eyebrow at him. His pout switched to a grin as he threw an arm around her shoulders. "Still, it looks pretty, doesn't it?" he asked.
"Snow always does, in my experience, until you have to try to get somewhere - then it's more of a nuisance."
"Aw Martha." The Doctor was back to pouting again.
"Don't 'aw Martha' me," she said testily. "It's all very well for you; you don't have to put up with the daily grind associated with bad weather. You can just hop in your magic blue box and leave the snow, slush, and frozen hands and feet behind any time you choose. If you had to actually live through a spell of bad weather, day after day, not knowing when it will improve, you'd be singing a different tune."
She stumped on ahead of him, her head bowed and her shoulders hunched inside her coat, leaving a rather chastened Time Lord in her wake. She was right, of course; he had no idea of the misery of living the kind of life she'd described. Even when he'd been exiled on Earth during his third incarnation, bad weather hadn't particularly troubled him: there was always so much going on at UNIT HQ, and he'd had the TARDIS to retreat into if he wanted to escape, even if she couldn't take him away.
He hurried after Martha in a thoughtful frame of mind. "I'm sorry," he offered when he caught her up.
"For what?" she asked, not looking up at him.
"For being obnoxiously enthusiastic about the snow," he answered. He slipped his hand into hers, then tucked both hands into his coat pocket, giving her fingers a squeeze. To his relief she squeezed back, and when he bent his head to look into her face, she wasn't frowning or scowling, although she wasn't yet smiling either.
"I'll forgive you," she said.
"You always do," he answered, "I'm not really sure you should."
She shrugged. "Tell me about the Vega Opsis system; you said you hadn't been here to Skydeskar, but have you been in this system before?"
"No," he answered. "This is as brand new to me as it is to you."
She glanced up, surprised by this announcement, and he grinned down at her. "We'll be learning about it together," he said, nudging her shoulder again, "which is actually more fun, I reckon."
They had reached the outskirts of a small town and Martha allowed the Doctor to direct their footsteps towards the town centre. There were only a handful of people in sight, all walking away from them, and Martha found herself wondering where everyone was, but then she heard the sound of music.
"Ooh! Sounds like a party or a festival or a fair, shall we take a look?" he asked eagerly.
She nodded; she was feeling a bit guilty for the way she'd had a go at him earlier and she didn't want him to think she was a killjoy in case he decided to take her back home. When they'd been stuck at that school, she'd seriously considered asking the Doctor to take her back once he was no longer John Smith, but then she'd decided to sleep on it and see how she felt.
They followed the townsfolk through the town to a large field that would probably have been green if it hadn't been covered in snow. There was a colourful sign above the open gateway.
"A Winter Fayre!" crowed the Doctor, grinning down at Martha. "Isn't this brilliant?"
"It's not the sort of thing I'd expected to find so many light years from home," she commented.
The Doctor was still grinning because he could see curiosity in her dark eyes: he knew that she was interested and no longer angry.
"Shall we explore?" he asked eagerly.
Martha nodded, so he led the way over to where a man was selling hot drinks beside a blazing brazier.
"Two please," the Doctor said, digging in his pockets for some sort of currency.
"No need to pay," the man said. "The drinks are included in the price of your tickets."
"But - " began Martha, then subsided at a look from the Doctor.
"Thank you very much," the Time Lord said, taking one of the mugs he was being offered and passing it to Martha, then accepting a second for himself.
"What's in it?" she asked, sniffing carefully at the scents.
"Just the usual sort of spices for mulled wine," answered the drinks-seller.
"Thank you." The Doctor put a hand between Martha's shoulder blades and gently guided her away.
"That was hardly fair," she said as they moved away," since we didn't buy any tickets, and no one's even asked us for one."
"Oh don't worry about it," he said dismissively. "I'm bound to do something to save them, or something, before the end of the day. Think of it as payment in advance."
"Hmm." Martha didn't want to get into an argument, so she didn't comment further, just sipped carefully at her drink, enjoying the way the spices made her tongue tingle and the warmth of the mug in her hands.
As they wandered across the field, Martha and the Doctor reached a group of chairs set in front of a small stage where three young, blonde women were telling tales and reciting poetry.
"Street theatre, well, more or less, brilliant!" said the Time Lord as the listening crowd broke into applause at the end of a recitation. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing as some of the chairs emptied.
"Okay," she agreed, thinking that it would be nice to sit down for a bit, given how far they'd walked through the town from the TARDIS' landing spot.
The three young women, who were clearly sisters, recited several poems, with accompanying enactment of some of the action, before they began to tell the story of 'a dusky serving maid, all forlorn', who fell in love with 'the handsome and talented prince who many in that country regarded as a genius'. Martha shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling very self-conscious among the audience of blue-eyed, fair haired men and women. The tale went on to describe how the maid, after falling in love with the prince, played a small part in helping the prince to overcome a quartet of evil sorcerers who tried to enslave the prince's people and destroy him. They told how the prince was wounded in the battle to save his people, but he was nursed back to health by a pretty young widow, whom he married, and just before they left on their wedding tour of the kingdom, the prince set the young maid free from her servitude, telling her to return to her family, who lived in a far distant country.
The Doctor joined in the enthusiastic applause, but Martha pushed through the crowd, blindly hurrying away from such a painful reminder of recent events. She had no idea why the sisters had chosen to tell a story with so many elements that echoed or mirrored her most recent stay on Earth, but she desperately wanted to put as much distance between them and herself. She was vaguely aware of the Doctor calling her name, but she didn't wait for him to catch up and he didn't reach her side until she reached the gate that led from the field to the road.
"What did you rush off for?" he asked, sounding quite perplexed.
"Why do you think?" she asked, silently telling herself she was not going to cry.
"I don't know," answered the Doctor, giving her an expectant look.
Martha could see that he genuinely didn't know why she was upset, but she couldn't bring herself to spell it out, feeling that she probably would cry if she had to explain.
She shook her head. "I don't feel very well, probably the spices in the mulled wine. I'm going back to the TARDIS."
"Shall I come with you?" he asked.
"No, I'll be okay," she said quickly. "Stay and enjoy the Fayre, there's no sense in both of us missing out on the fun."
He hesitated, looking slightly torn. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Positive," she answered. "Go on." She gave him a little push back into the field. "I'll see you later."
"Okay. I'll come and check on you in a couple of hours."
She nodded, although she was half convinced she wouldn't see him again for several hours. The Doctor turned back towards the music and laughter, and Martha headed back to the TARDIS wishing she had asked him to take her straight home after they'd left Farringham.
The ship hummed sympathetically as she let herself inside, and as she greeted the TARDIS, just like she'd done so often in Farringham, she felt tears prickle in the corners of her eyes and she gulped a bit. Leaning on the edge of the console, she blinked rapidly and swallowed hard until the urge to cry had passed, then she pulled off her coat, hat and gloves before heading to the kitchen.
Once there, Martha made herself a big mug of hot chocolate and found out the bag of marshmallows she knew was in the cupboard, then took both items to her room; there she pulled off her boots, then settled cross-legged on her bed with some of the books she'd been reading on her visits to the TARDIS during her two month stay in 1913.
* * * * * *
When the Doctor returned several hours after Martha, he was greeted with a hum of dissatisfaction, but he barely registered it as he set the coordinates to take them into the Vortex.
"Where's Martha?" he asked aloud.
In her room, responded the ship. Being linked to the Time Lord's mind, she was aware that he'd enjoyed himself flirting with the three sisters who'd been doing the street theatre, and that he'd had a long, leisurely lunch with them before going to the public baths where they'd shared a Jacuzzi and a sauna. After that they'd gone to an inn and spent some time drinking cocktails and talking, and it was only when they'd invited him to join them for dinner that he'd belatedly remembered that Martha had been feeling unwell earlier.
The Doctor knocked on Martha's door, but didn't get an answer, so he opened it and went in to find his companion sleeping on her bed, fully dressed, an open notebook resting on her stomach. There were three books lying open in various spots on the bed, and when he gathered them up, the Time Lord noticed that they were all medical textbooks from the TARDIS library. He added them to the other four that were stacked on Martha's desk, then carefully picked up her notebook, which he saw was filled with notes in her neat handwriting. He added that to the pile on her desk.
Why didn't she come back to the Fayre once she was feeling well again, instead of staying here to study? He left her room and headed towards the kitchen.
She wasn't feeling ill in the first place; she was upset, the ship told him, a sharp note in her humming.
Upset? Why? he asked, puzzled.
The story that the three sisters told upset her, answered the TARDIS.
He frowned, trying to recall the details, but his mind was more than a little hazy from the drinks he'd had with Mary, Jo and Rosalie.
"Humans are strange," he muttered aloud, and began making himself a sandwich.
He was just finishing eating when Martha walked in. "Sandwich?" he asked, gesturing at the bread.
"I'll make one in a minute," she answered, not looking at him.
"I thought we might go and look at some of the other planets in this system while we're here," he said, getting up to put his plate and mug in the sink.
Martha nodded as she filled the kettle.
"You okay?" he asked a little uncertainly.
"Fine," she answered, taking a mug from the cupboard.
"Good." He disappeared off towards the Control Room.
Martha heard the TARDIS humming at her, a little three-note hum that she used when she wanted to draw the young woman's attention to something.
"What is it?" she asked as she went to the fridge for the milk. She smiled when she opened the door and spotted a packet of fresh pasta and a tuna steak on the shelf. Neither item had been there when she had got the ham out for her lunchtime sandwiches.
"Thank you," she said softly, patting the wall beside the fridge before taking out the fish and pasta.
After she'd cooked, eaten and washed up, Martha went to the Control Room to ask the Doctor which planet they were visiting next. There was no sign of the Time Lord, but there was a post-it note stuck on the monitor: Gone to have a nap. Back in one hour.
She was a bit surprised, but shrugged and went back to her room to do some more studying. With her exams coming up soon, Martha was keen to make the most of her spare time, and since the TARDIS had helped her find the appropriate books in the library, she felt it would be foolish not to use whatever opportunities arose to keep up to date. She knew quite well that she wouldn't be travelling with the Doctor forever, and she didn't want to regret her decision to go with him once she returned to her everyday life.
When Martha surfaced from her studies several hours later, she saw it was 11pm; she yawned, stretched and then went to find the Doctor, but his note was still on the monitor and since none of the floor panels had been lifted up, she knew he wasn't working on the TARDIS. Since she had no idea where his bedroom was, she headed back to her own room to get some sleep.
* * * * * *
When the TARDIS next landed, the Doctor and Martha found themselves looking out a snowy landscape.
"I think I'd better wrap up warm," Martha observed, and headed back to her room since the t-shirt and skirt she was wearing weren't suitable for walking in deep snow.
The Doctor shook his head. "Deja vu," he muttered as he recalled that his companion had said exactly the same thing yesterday when they'd arrived at Skydeskar.
As they set off along the road, the Time Lord found himself compelled to comment on Martha's first sight of alien snow, even though he knew perfectly well that she'd seen her first alien snow the day before.
Martha's response to his comment was exactly the same as it had been the day before, word for word, and although he felt distinctly uneasy, he found himself hurrying to catch her up and repeating his own words and gestures of the day before. He vaguely wondered if he'd fallen asleep and was now recreating the day's events in a 3D dream, or if there had been something in one of the cocktails he'd drunk that could induce a really vivid hallucination.
Events unfolded exactly as they had the day before, and when he commented to Martha, as he ate his sandwich after his evening cocktails, about today being exactly like yesterday, she gave him a perplexed look.
"We were still in Farringham yesterday," she said, and it was obvious to him that she had no idea they'd just repeated the events of the previous day.
After he finished his sandwich, he headed to the Control Room to talk to his ship, feeling certain she would remember that they'd repeated a day.
"Either I'm going completely mad, or yesterday happened again today."
You're not going mad. answered the TARDIS, a rather smug note in her hum.
"You did this," he said, realisation dawning suddenly. "Why?"
I told you that you had to make it up to Martha for what she went through in Farringham, answered the ship. Until your actions convince me that you have done so, we will do this again and again.
"What?" yelped the Doctor, outraged. "You've no right to do that!"
Martha deserves to be treated well, the TARDIS said, refusing to answer him further so that in the end he stomped off to bed muttering imprecations under his breath.
* * * * * *
The next two days went almost exactly the same as the previous two, but on the fifth day, after Martha had gone back to the TARDIS, feeling upset about the story, the Doctor wandered around the Fayre. He carefully avoided the three sisters and looked, instead, at the various items for sale on the various stalls, including home-made cakes and sweets.
He thought about Martha, and the way the TARDIS was trying to manipulate him into doing something nice for his young companion, and he dug in his pockets, hoping to find some acceptable currency.
By the time he got back to the TARDIS Martha had been back two and a half hours, and he wondered if she thought he'd forgotten her, as in fact he had done on the previous four days. As soon as he was in the ship, he headed straight to her room and found her just about to go and make herself some lunch.
"Hello," she said, apparently surprised to see him.
"Hello, how are you feeling?" he asked anxiously.
"Fine," she answered.
He saw her curiously eyeing the parcels he carried. "I've got some things for lunch here," he told her.
"Oh, okay."
He set off towards the kitchen with Martha dutifully following him, and that word pulled him up short mentally as he abruptly realised the significance of the story told by the three sisters at the Fayre. He immediately resolved to find out where they had heard the story they had told.
The Doctor set down his parcels on the end of the table, then he pulled three of them out of the pile and unwrapped a packet of sandwiches made from thick cut fresh bread, some crumbly fruit scones, and a large rich chocolate cake.
"Tuck in," he said, "and I'll make the tea."
"I can do that," Martha said, abandoning the chair she'd been about to sit in.
He grasped her shoulders gently. "I'll do it," he told her, "you eat." He turned her around and pulled out the chair, waiting for her to sit down, then he got out some plates and passed them over to her. Once the sandwiches, scones and cake were on separate plates and Martha was beginning on a sandwich, he made a pot of tea.
They ate a leisurely lunch while the Doctor told her tales about Skydeskar's traditions and the other planets in the system.
"I thought you hadn't been here before?" Martha asked as they finished off their slices of chocolate cake.
"I haven't," he answered.
"So how come you know so much about the planet and this system?"
"Oh you know me, Martha Jones, I'm a quick study." He didn't dare to tell her that he'd had five days to learn all that he had told her.
She nodded vaguely, licking chocolate from her fingers in an unselfconscious manner that he found quite alluring.
"So, where are we going next?"
"Oh, the next planet in the system," he answered, tearing his gaze away. "I thought we'd just hop from planet to planet until we've visited them all, if that's okay with you?"
She nodded again. "Okay."
"Good."
* * * * * *
The Doctor was so convinced that the TARDIS would be satisfied and let them go somewhere else now, that when he opened the door and saw the familiar snowy landscape of Skydeskar he gave an inarticulate yell of fury, then stomped back to the console, leaving Martha looking at him in a startled and worried manner. As she hurried away to change her clothes, he ranted at his ship, but the TARDIS was indifferent to his anger.
If you think that buying Martha a picnic lunch is enough to make up for what she went through, the TARDIS said, then you have a lot to learn.
"What do you want me to do?" demanded the Time Lord angrily.
Show her that you care and that you appreciate what she endured while keeping your human self safe.
He growled, pulling at his hair in frustration.
"Doctor?" Martha sounded tentative, he noticed, as she cautiously approached him. "Is everything okay?"
He swallowed hard, trying to bottle up his anger at his ship's meddling, and made himself smile. "Fine, everything's fine," he answered, but he could see that she wasn't entirely convinced. "Let's go and explore."
Once they were outside, he refrained from commenting on alien snow, and instead asked Martha if she liked snow, and then encouraged her to tell him about her and her siblings' efforts to build a snowman when they were children.
"We never managed it as we struggled to get the head up onto the body. We always made it too big for us to lift."
The Doctor gave her a grin. "Let's build a snowman now," he suggested.
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why?"
"Why not?" he countered. "I haven't made one for centuries, but it'd be fun."
Martha gave him a look that clearly said she thought he was a bit mad, but then she shrugged. "All right, then."
He got the feeling that she was just indulging him, but he didn't mind since he was determined that she was going to have a fun day, and besides, if they spent some time building a snowman together, then they would miss the sisters' storytelling, which meant that Martha would not get upset.
"Have you got some gloves?" she asked as he was about to gather up some snow. "I know your body temperature is lower than mine, but you might still want some gloves."
He dug in his coat pocket with one hand, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders. "Ever the doctor, Martha Jones." He pulled out a pair of leather gloves, then kissed her forehead before putting them on. He winked at her startled expression, and she ducked her head before beginning to make her own snowball.
As they worked on their snowman, the Doctor encouraged Martha to talk about her childhood and her desire to become a doctor, drawing her out with further questions every time she showed signs of stopping.
Finally the snowman was finished, apart from the nose and eyes.
"Don't tell me, you've got coal and a carrot in your coat pocket," teased Martha. She was flushed from their efforts, but her eyes were bright with amusement, and the Doctor felt all his senses stirred when looking at her.
"Doctor?" She was looking slightly uncomfortable, and he realised abruptly that he'd been staring.
"No, no coal or carrots, might have a banana though, if you're hungry, although I was thinking of something more substantial for lunch," he answered, aware that he was practically babbling.
Martha watched, slightly bewildered by his manner, as he bounded across the snow to the bank of a stream she had noticed earlier. He returned with two large round stones, and two sticks, which he rapidly used to provide eyes, nose and mouth for the snowman. He grinned at her almost as widely as the snowman itself.
"What do you reckon?" he asked, looking absurdly pleased with himself.
"Not bad," she answered, grinning when he began to splutter in mock outrage.
"Martha Jones, you're a very cheeky young woman!" he exclaimed, "and I think you should be punished." He bent and gathered a double handful of snow, but when he straightened up, a snowball was already flying his way. It caught his shoulder and he dashed across to grab Martha, trying to shove his snow down her neck. She shrieked and they wrestled vigorously for a few minutes until the Doctor slipped and fell over, pulling Martha down with him.
"Truce, truce!" he cried quickly.
Martha nodded breathlessly, then looked around for her hat which had been dislodged during their struggle. The Doctor picked it up and dusted the snow off before setting it back on her head, then he bent his head and kissed her carefully on the mouth.
When he pulled away, Martha was clutching the front of his coat tightly, a surprised expression on her face. "What was that for?" she asked shakily.
"Because you look gorgeous, and I wanted to," he said, his eyes fixed on hers.
She ducked her head. "Thank you."
"Come on," he said, getting up and pulling her up too. "Let's go and find some lunch."
They brushed the snow off themselves and each other, then the Doctor took Martha's hand in his and put them both into his pocket.
"Oh look, there's a Winter Fayre on," Martha said, spotting the overhead banner.
"We'll go and have a look after lunch if you like," the Doctor suggested.
"Yes please."
He nodded, then led her over to a restaurant where they were soon enjoying salmon with fresh pasta and vegetables for lunch. Afterwards, they headed through the town to the field where the Fayre was being held and wandered, hand in hand, looking at the various stalls and attractions. The Doctor became rather lavish, buying Martha several presents: the first was a matching hat and scarf set knitted in bright red wool with a pattern of green holly leaves worked into them both. He pocketed the hat she had been wearing, and set the red one on her head, then draped the scarf around her neck.
"That's better," he said. "You look good in red, and when you were dressed all in grey and black, it looked too much like your maid's uniform." He gave her a quick kiss. "And I'm sure you don't want reminding about those two months."
She shook her head; now that he'd pointed it out, Martha realised that she was dressed in grey and black, even down to the black t-shirt she wore under her roll neck sweater.
The Doctor went on to buy some home-made fudge, a selection of chocolates, and a rich chocolate cake; then he bought her a book on the history of medicine and a blue leather-bound edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets. Martha was startled to find Earth books so far from home, but he explained that they had probably once belonged to colonists who'd settled out here.
"Humanity travels a long way into the stars in your future," he told her as he pocketed his change and handed her the small canvas bag in which the stallholder had put her new books.
The Doctor's final purchase was an exquisite herbal which looked like a wooden paintbox on the outside, but opened up to reveal bright illustrations of a variety of herbs that had been carved and painted into the pale wood.
Martha stammered a thank you, then threw her arms around him and hugged him while the stallholder wrapped it for her.
"Come on, we'll take this lot back to the TARDIS," he said. "There's a ball tonight and we don't want to lug this lot around at it."
"A ball?" asked Martha, wide-eyed with surprise.
He nodded. "They hold a Winter Ball at the Fayre, and I would be honoured, Miss Jones, if you would be my partner."
She stared, struck speechless for the moment, then nodded.
"Brilliant!" he said, beaming.
When they got back to the TARDIS the Doctor noticed, to his great relief, that the ship's hum sounded pleased, and he felt a bit smug as he pulled off his coat and gloves, then followed Martha to her room, carrying the carefully wrapped herbal under one arm.
He set it down on Martha's desk, watching from the corner of his eye as she took off her outdoor clothes. When she sat down on the bed to take off her boots, he knelt in front of her and removed them for her.
"Are your feet aching?" he asked, when she rubbed the left one as he took of the right boot.
"A bit," she admitted.
"Want a foot massage?" She nodded, so he gestured at the bed. "Why don't you lie down?" he suggested, then he took off his blue suit jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and pulled off his Converse. He knelt on the bed by her feet, leaning back on his heels, and lifting Martha's left foot up to rest by the heel on his thigh, he began to carefully massage her foot.
"Oh god, that feels nice," she said.
He grinned at her. "That's the plan," he told her, his long fingers working her muscles loose.
Martha closed her eyes and tried not to think about how his hands would feel massaging certain other parts of her body, although it wasn't easy when the images leapt into her mind unbidden.
The Doctor sensed that she was becoming aroused and wondered if she'd be horrified if she knew he was too. Since there was only one way to find out, he carefully flexed her foot so that her toes briefly brushed against his growing erection as he massaged the muscles. She didn't snatch her foot away, so he continued the massage, accidentally-on-purpose brushing her toes against his crotch a couple more times.
After the third such touch, Martha spoke. "Doctor?"
"Hmm?" He noticed that her eyes were still closed and she looked very relaxed.
"Do you have a foot fetish?" She opened her eyes and looked directly at him, flexing her foot herself to rub her toes against his bulging trousers.
"N-n-not as such," he stuttered as she carefully rubbed her foot up and down.
"No?" she asked. "I'm surprised, because to me it feels like you're quite hard."
He moaned and she immediately sat up, replacing her foot with her hand. "Seems to me, Mr Smith, like you could do with a massage too." She snaked her free arm around his neck and pulled his head closer to kiss him as she stroked him through his trousers.
"M-Martha, p-please," he begged, his breath stuttering against her cheek when he pulled free.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"You," he gasped. "I want to make love to you."
She moved her hand away and put it on his arm, looking at him searchingly. "Really?"
The Doctor focused his attention on her. "Really," he answered. He leant forward and kissed her as he slid his hands under her jumper and stroked her sides through her t-shirt, before pushing that aside too, desperate to touch her bare skin.
"This would be easier if you let me undress," Martha laughed as she pulled away from the Doctor.
"I want to undress you," he told her.
"We could undress each other," she suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him.
"We could," he agreed, lifting her jumper up and over her head.
She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped that off, both of them dropping their clothes onto the floor. Martha's t-shirt was next to go, then he leaned forward to kiss the side of her neck and down to the tops of her breasts, one arm wrapped across her back to support her. As the Doctor's mouth moved across her skin, he unfastened the clasp on her bra, and then he was nipping and sucking at her nipples, one after the other. She moaned in pleasure, arching her back so that her breasts thrust up towards the Time Lord's busy mouth and he hummed with satisfaction.
"Oh god!" she gasped as jolts of pleasure shot through her body straight to her increasingly heated core. "Doctor, please!"
He lowered her down to lie flat on the bed, then unfastened her jeans and quickly pulled them down, then tugged off her socks, before ducking his head to drag his tongue up the length of her entrance, pulling the silk of her knickers tight against her skin.
Martha moaned again as he slid the material aside with his nose and pushed two fingers into her slick heat.
"Come for me, Martha," he whispered against her skin as his fingers twisted and turned inside her pussy, stroking her in all the right places until her hips bucked upwards and she came hard, her muscles clenching tightly around his probing fingers.
"That's my girl." He slipped her knickers off and dropped them onto the pile of clothes, then stretched out between her legs to lap up her juices while his thumb teased her clit until she came again.
Eventually the Doctor moved to sit between her spread legs, a very pleased expression on his face as he watched his companion coming down from her high.
"Okay?" he asked softly when she finally opened her eyes.
"Yes." She smiled up at him. "Thank you."
"Believe me, Miss Jones, it was my pleasure," he assured her, eliciting a rich chuckle that made him harden even further.
Martha sat up, and lightly caressed his cock through his trousers. "Your turn now, I think," she said quietly. She began licking his Adam's apple as she unfastened his trousers, then pulled back. "You're going to have to move if I'm to get these off without ripping them."
He stood up on the bed and she quickly shimmied the trousers down to his ankles, and then he kicked them off, before dragging off his socks. Martha cupped his balls in one hand and ducked her head to lap lightly at the head of his cock, causing him to groan.
"Please Martha," he ground out through gritted teeth.
She looked up at him through her lashes and he groaned. "You're killing me," he told her, his voice strained.
"Oh I do hope not," she said, giggling a little. She clasped his hands in hers and pulled on his arms, urging him to kneel on the bed again. "Where do you want me, Mr Smith?"
"Lie down again please."
She obeyed and he moved his body over hers, easily sliding his cock inside her. She gasped a bit, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.
"Fuck me," she growled in his ear, and he immediately began to thrust deep and hard until he brought them both to an intense climax.
"Sorry," he said, looking a bit sheepish.
"For what?" asked Martha, eyebrows raised.
"Well, that was over a bit quick," he said, the tips of his ears turning red.
"Silly man," she said, smiling up at him. "I don't mind, and it's not as if I hadn't already had two orgasms. Besides, there's no reason we can't do this again, is there?"
He grinned down at her. "Definitely not."
"There we go then." She pulled his head down to kiss him languidly until she was forced to stop for want of breath, then she shifted her hips a bit and he lifted his head to look down at her.
"Feeling a bit insatiable, are we?" he teased, well aware that his cock, which was still inside her, was half hard again already thanks to their kisses.
"A bit," she agreed, smirking up at him. "That a problem?"
"Not at all," he answered, dipping his head to kiss her again, and sliding his left hand down her side to cup her breast, teasing her nipple to hardness. He continued to kiss her as he switched hands and teased her other nipple until it matched the first, then he lifted himself up, ignoring Martha's whimper as he slipped out of her.
"Turn over," he said softly.
She rolled over, then lifted herself up onto her hands and knees, and he grinned, pleased that she had immediately guessed what he wanted. He held her hips as he slid his now fully erect cock back into her from behind, then he moved his hands to her breasts and began to play with them as he thrust slowly and carefully. After a while his right hand drifted from her breast to tease her clit and Martha shuddered in pleasure, then began pushing back at him.
"Please," she said desperately.
He leant forward to nip at her earlobe before asking, "Please what?"
"Harder," she gasped, "fuck me harder, please."
He began nuzzling the side of her neck, lapping at the skin, then administering little nips as he sped up the pace and depth of his thrusts.
When he felt close to coming he bit her neck more forcefully and she cried out as she came, triggering his orgasm in turn, and they both collapsed onto the bed. The Doctor quickly rolled off her, not wanting to squash her.
"Okay?" he asked, as she rolled onto her back, breathing heavily.
"Yeah." She rolled her head to one side and looked at him. "Do we have to go to this Ball?"
His eyes widened. "Well, no, we don't absolutely have to, but don't you want to?"
She looked a bit bashful as she shook her head. "I'd rather just stay here with you," she said. "If that's okay."
"Weeeeell," he said, drawing the word out unnecessarily. "I had got my heart set on seeing you in a rather nice red dress, but - "
"But what?" asked Martha, when he left the sentence dangling.
"Well, the TARDIS can provide music, and we've plenty of space for dancing in, so we could stay here and have a private dance."
"That might be fun," she said, shifting closer and resting her head on his right shoulder, "but I refuse to get out of bed just yet."
He chuckled. "All right, Miss Jones, you can stay here for now." He began stroking her hair and she rested her right arm across his chest. She wondered what had brought him to this point, but she was a little nervous about asking. Maybe later, she thought, closing her eyes.
Are you satisfied, now? the Doctor asked the TARDIS. The ship hummed an affirmative. Thank you, he said. His eyes closed too, and they both slept for a while.
The TARDIS' hum took on a smug note at the success of her ploy.
Title: Nowhere to Hide
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Ten
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: S3 up to 3.09
Summary: The Doctor experiences Groundhog Day, TARDIS style.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: I wrote this for the kinkmeme sizeofthatthing where the prompt was: Martha/Ten - The Doctor is caught in a time loop (like in Groundhog Day) and the only way of breaking it is to seduce Martha. Unfortunately she's making it difficult for him. Bonus points if it's the TARDIS' doing. Since I adore Groundhog Day and I'd been wanting to write a DW version, I really couldn't resist writing this!
Beta: The awesome fourzoas
~~~~~~
The Doctor said goodbye to Tim Latimer, then stepped inside the TARDIS, throwing his coat over the coral strut before he sent the ship into the Vortex; he wondered where his companion was since she wasn't in the Control Room, waiting to see where they were going next.
She's in her room, the TARDIS told him.
Hello again, old girl, I've missed you. He smiled and ran his fingers lovingly across the console.
And I, you. What are you going to do to make things up to Martha?
The Doctor frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked aloud, surprised by so direct a question from his ship.
She's just been through two months of misery in an attempt to keep you safe. How are you going to make it up to her?
"Oh, I'll think of something, don't worry," he answered breezily, ignoring the hum of discontent that came from his ship. He wandered away to the kitchen for a cup of tea, setting out two mugs as he filled the kettle.
Twenty minutes later Martha's mug was still empty and the pot was getting cold, so he wandered back along the corridor to knock on her door. Getting no answer, he raised his hand to knock again, but the TARDIS gave him a mental poke.
She's sleeping. Now let her get some rest; she deserves it after all she's been through.
The Time Lord rubbed the back of his neck, surprised that his ship was being so forceful. "Alright, no need to give me a headache," he muttered, wandering back down the corridor to his room. Now she mentioned it, a rest wasn't a bad idea: he could definitely do with a snooze himself.
Three hours later, the Doctor woke to the realisation that the TARDIS was landing. Startled, he almost fell off the bed in his haste to get to the Control Room.
"What are you doing, old girl?" he asked aloud as he hurried up the corridor, acutely aware that he had no idea where they were since he hadn't programmed in any coordinates yet.
Reaching the Control Room, he hurried to the console and checked the scanner to discover they'd arrived on Skydeskar, an Earth-like planet in the Vega Opsis system that he'd never visited before. He frowned, puzzled by the TARDIS' choice, then shrugged, deciding that he would probably find a corrupt government that needed overthrowing or a group of people in need of his wisdom and assistance. He grinned in anticipation and then went off to wake Martha.
* * * * * *
Half an hour later, the Doctor was bouncing along like an eager puppy while Martha trudged by his side, bundled up in a thick black duffle coat with wooden toggles, a thick grey roll-neck sweater over her t-shirt, black jeans and black, fur-lined ankle boots. She had found some thick grey gloves and a grey woollen hat in the TARDIS wardrobe and added them to her outfit.
"How do you like your first alien snow?" asked the Time Lord.
"Looks just like Earth snow to me," she answered shortly.
"Aw, don't be like that Martha," he cajoled, nudging her shoulder with his.
"Well it does," she protested. "It's cold, wet and white. There's no difference."
He pouted at her, but she just raised an eyebrow at him. His pout switched to a grin as he threw an arm around her shoulders. "Still, it looks pretty, doesn't it?" he asked.
"Snow always does, in my experience, until you have to try to get somewhere - then it's more of a nuisance."
"Aw Martha." The Doctor was back to pouting again.
"Don't 'aw Martha' me," she said testily. "It's all very well for you; you don't have to put up with the daily grind associated with bad weather. You can just hop in your magic blue box and leave the snow, slush, and frozen hands and feet behind any time you choose. If you had to actually live through a spell of bad weather, day after day, not knowing when it will improve, you'd be singing a different tune."
She stumped on ahead of him, her head bowed and her shoulders hunched inside her coat, leaving a rather chastened Time Lord in her wake. She was right, of course; he had no idea of the misery of living the kind of life she'd described. Even when he'd been exiled on Earth during his third incarnation, bad weather hadn't particularly troubled him: there was always so much going on at UNIT HQ, and he'd had the TARDIS to retreat into if he wanted to escape, even if she couldn't take him away.
He hurried after Martha in a thoughtful frame of mind. "I'm sorry," he offered when he caught her up.
"For what?" she asked, not looking up at him.
"For being obnoxiously enthusiastic about the snow," he answered. He slipped his hand into hers, then tucked both hands into his coat pocket, giving her fingers a squeeze. To his relief she squeezed back, and when he bent his head to look into her face, she wasn't frowning or scowling, although she wasn't yet smiling either.
"I'll forgive you," she said.
"You always do," he answered, "I'm not really sure you should."
She shrugged. "Tell me about the Vega Opsis system; you said you hadn't been here to Skydeskar, but have you been in this system before?"
"No," he answered. "This is as brand new to me as it is to you."
She glanced up, surprised by this announcement, and he grinned down at her. "We'll be learning about it together," he said, nudging her shoulder again, "which is actually more fun, I reckon."
They had reached the outskirts of a small town and Martha allowed the Doctor to direct their footsteps towards the town centre. There were only a handful of people in sight, all walking away from them, and Martha found herself wondering where everyone was, but then she heard the sound of music.
"Ooh! Sounds like a party or a festival or a fair, shall we take a look?" he asked eagerly.
She nodded; she was feeling a bit guilty for the way she'd had a go at him earlier and she didn't want him to think she was a killjoy in case he decided to take her back home. When they'd been stuck at that school, she'd seriously considered asking the Doctor to take her back once he was no longer John Smith, but then she'd decided to sleep on it and see how she felt.
They followed the townsfolk through the town to a large field that would probably have been green if it hadn't been covered in snow. There was a colourful sign above the open gateway.
"A Winter Fayre!" crowed the Doctor, grinning down at Martha. "Isn't this brilliant?"
"It's not the sort of thing I'd expected to find so many light years from home," she commented.
The Doctor was still grinning because he could see curiosity in her dark eyes: he knew that she was interested and no longer angry.
"Shall we explore?" he asked eagerly.
Martha nodded, so he led the way over to where a man was selling hot drinks beside a blazing brazier.
"Two please," the Doctor said, digging in his pockets for some sort of currency.
"No need to pay," the man said. "The drinks are included in the price of your tickets."
"But - " began Martha, then subsided at a look from the Doctor.
"Thank you very much," the Time Lord said, taking one of the mugs he was being offered and passing it to Martha, then accepting a second for himself.
"What's in it?" she asked, sniffing carefully at the scents.
"Just the usual sort of spices for mulled wine," answered the drinks-seller.
"Thank you." The Doctor put a hand between Martha's shoulder blades and gently guided her away.
"That was hardly fair," she said as they moved away," since we didn't buy any tickets, and no one's even asked us for one."
"Oh don't worry about it," he said dismissively. "I'm bound to do something to save them, or something, before the end of the day. Think of it as payment in advance."
"Hmm." Martha didn't want to get into an argument, so she didn't comment further, just sipped carefully at her drink, enjoying the way the spices made her tongue tingle and the warmth of the mug in her hands.
As they wandered across the field, Martha and the Doctor reached a group of chairs set in front of a small stage where three young, blonde women were telling tales and reciting poetry.
"Street theatre, well, more or less, brilliant!" said the Time Lord as the listening crowd broke into applause at the end of a recitation. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing as some of the chairs emptied.
"Okay," she agreed, thinking that it would be nice to sit down for a bit, given how far they'd walked through the town from the TARDIS' landing spot.
The three young women, who were clearly sisters, recited several poems, with accompanying enactment of some of the action, before they began to tell the story of 'a dusky serving maid, all forlorn', who fell in love with 'the handsome and talented prince who many in that country regarded as a genius'. Martha shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling very self-conscious among the audience of blue-eyed, fair haired men and women. The tale went on to describe how the maid, after falling in love with the prince, played a small part in helping the prince to overcome a quartet of evil sorcerers who tried to enslave the prince's people and destroy him. They told how the prince was wounded in the battle to save his people, but he was nursed back to health by a pretty young widow, whom he married, and just before they left on their wedding tour of the kingdom, the prince set the young maid free from her servitude, telling her to return to her family, who lived in a far distant country.
The Doctor joined in the enthusiastic applause, but Martha pushed through the crowd, blindly hurrying away from such a painful reminder of recent events. She had no idea why the sisters had chosen to tell a story with so many elements that echoed or mirrored her most recent stay on Earth, but she desperately wanted to put as much distance between them and herself. She was vaguely aware of the Doctor calling her name, but she didn't wait for him to catch up and he didn't reach her side until she reached the gate that led from the field to the road.
"What did you rush off for?" he asked, sounding quite perplexed.
"Why do you think?" she asked, silently telling herself she was not going to cry.
"I don't know," answered the Doctor, giving her an expectant look.
Martha could see that he genuinely didn't know why she was upset, but she couldn't bring herself to spell it out, feeling that she probably would cry if she had to explain.
She shook her head. "I don't feel very well, probably the spices in the mulled wine. I'm going back to the TARDIS."
"Shall I come with you?" he asked.
"No, I'll be okay," she said quickly. "Stay and enjoy the Fayre, there's no sense in both of us missing out on the fun."
He hesitated, looking slightly torn. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Positive," she answered. "Go on." She gave him a little push back into the field. "I'll see you later."
"Okay. I'll come and check on you in a couple of hours."
She nodded, although she was half convinced she wouldn't see him again for several hours. The Doctor turned back towards the music and laughter, and Martha headed back to the TARDIS wishing she had asked him to take her straight home after they'd left Farringham.
The ship hummed sympathetically as she let herself inside, and as she greeted the TARDIS, just like she'd done so often in Farringham, she felt tears prickle in the corners of her eyes and she gulped a bit. Leaning on the edge of the console, she blinked rapidly and swallowed hard until the urge to cry had passed, then she pulled off her coat, hat and gloves before heading to the kitchen.
Once there, Martha made herself a big mug of hot chocolate and found out the bag of marshmallows she knew was in the cupboard, then took both items to her room; there she pulled off her boots, then settled cross-legged on her bed with some of the books she'd been reading on her visits to the TARDIS during her two month stay in 1913.
* * * * * *
When the Doctor returned several hours after Martha, he was greeted with a hum of dissatisfaction, but he barely registered it as he set the coordinates to take them into the Vortex.
"Where's Martha?" he asked aloud.
In her room, responded the ship. Being linked to the Time Lord's mind, she was aware that he'd enjoyed himself flirting with the three sisters who'd been doing the street theatre, and that he'd had a long, leisurely lunch with them before going to the public baths where they'd shared a Jacuzzi and a sauna. After that they'd gone to an inn and spent some time drinking cocktails and talking, and it was only when they'd invited him to join them for dinner that he'd belatedly remembered that Martha had been feeling unwell earlier.
The Doctor knocked on Martha's door, but didn't get an answer, so he opened it and went in to find his companion sleeping on her bed, fully dressed, an open notebook resting on her stomach. There were three books lying open in various spots on the bed, and when he gathered them up, the Time Lord noticed that they were all medical textbooks from the TARDIS library. He added them to the other four that were stacked on Martha's desk, then carefully picked up her notebook, which he saw was filled with notes in her neat handwriting. He added that to the pile on her desk.
Why didn't she come back to the Fayre once she was feeling well again, instead of staying here to study? He left her room and headed towards the kitchen.
She wasn't feeling ill in the first place; she was upset, the ship told him, a sharp note in her humming.
Upset? Why? he asked, puzzled.
The story that the three sisters told upset her, answered the TARDIS.
He frowned, trying to recall the details, but his mind was more than a little hazy from the drinks he'd had with Mary, Jo and Rosalie.
"Humans are strange," he muttered aloud, and began making himself a sandwich.
He was just finishing eating when Martha walked in. "Sandwich?" he asked, gesturing at the bread.
"I'll make one in a minute," she answered, not looking at him.
"I thought we might go and look at some of the other planets in this system while we're here," he said, getting up to put his plate and mug in the sink.
Martha nodded as she filled the kettle.
"You okay?" he asked a little uncertainly.
"Fine," she answered, taking a mug from the cupboard.
"Good." He disappeared off towards the Control Room.
Martha heard the TARDIS humming at her, a little three-note hum that she used when she wanted to draw the young woman's attention to something.
"What is it?" she asked as she went to the fridge for the milk. She smiled when she opened the door and spotted a packet of fresh pasta and a tuna steak on the shelf. Neither item had been there when she had got the ham out for her lunchtime sandwiches.
"Thank you," she said softly, patting the wall beside the fridge before taking out the fish and pasta.
After she'd cooked, eaten and washed up, Martha went to the Control Room to ask the Doctor which planet they were visiting next. There was no sign of the Time Lord, but there was a post-it note stuck on the monitor: Gone to have a nap. Back in one hour.
She was a bit surprised, but shrugged and went back to her room to do some more studying. With her exams coming up soon, Martha was keen to make the most of her spare time, and since the TARDIS had helped her find the appropriate books in the library, she felt it would be foolish not to use whatever opportunities arose to keep up to date. She knew quite well that she wouldn't be travelling with the Doctor forever, and she didn't want to regret her decision to go with him once she returned to her everyday life.
When Martha surfaced from her studies several hours later, she saw it was 11pm; she yawned, stretched and then went to find the Doctor, but his note was still on the monitor and since none of the floor panels had been lifted up, she knew he wasn't working on the TARDIS. Since she had no idea where his bedroom was, she headed back to her own room to get some sleep.
* * * * * *
When the TARDIS next landed, the Doctor and Martha found themselves looking out a snowy landscape.
"I think I'd better wrap up warm," Martha observed, and headed back to her room since the t-shirt and skirt she was wearing weren't suitable for walking in deep snow.
The Doctor shook his head. "Deja vu," he muttered as he recalled that his companion had said exactly the same thing yesterday when they'd arrived at Skydeskar.
As they set off along the road, the Time Lord found himself compelled to comment on Martha's first sight of alien snow, even though he knew perfectly well that she'd seen her first alien snow the day before.
Martha's response to his comment was exactly the same as it had been the day before, word for word, and although he felt distinctly uneasy, he found himself hurrying to catch her up and repeating his own words and gestures of the day before. He vaguely wondered if he'd fallen asleep and was now recreating the day's events in a 3D dream, or if there had been something in one of the cocktails he'd drunk that could induce a really vivid hallucination.
Events unfolded exactly as they had the day before, and when he commented to Martha, as he ate his sandwich after his evening cocktails, about today being exactly like yesterday, she gave him a perplexed look.
"We were still in Farringham yesterday," she said, and it was obvious to him that she had no idea they'd just repeated the events of the previous day.
After he finished his sandwich, he headed to the Control Room to talk to his ship, feeling certain she would remember that they'd repeated a day.
"Either I'm going completely mad, or yesterday happened again today."
You're not going mad. answered the TARDIS, a rather smug note in her hum.
"You did this," he said, realisation dawning suddenly. "Why?"
I told you that you had to make it up to Martha for what she went through in Farringham, answered the ship. Until your actions convince me that you have done so, we will do this again and again.
"What?" yelped the Doctor, outraged. "You've no right to do that!"
Martha deserves to be treated well, the TARDIS said, refusing to answer him further so that in the end he stomped off to bed muttering imprecations under his breath.
* * * * * *
The next two days went almost exactly the same as the previous two, but on the fifth day, after Martha had gone back to the TARDIS, feeling upset about the story, the Doctor wandered around the Fayre. He carefully avoided the three sisters and looked, instead, at the various items for sale on the various stalls, including home-made cakes and sweets.
He thought about Martha, and the way the TARDIS was trying to manipulate him into doing something nice for his young companion, and he dug in his pockets, hoping to find some acceptable currency.
By the time he got back to the TARDIS Martha had been back two and a half hours, and he wondered if she thought he'd forgotten her, as in fact he had done on the previous four days. As soon as he was in the ship, he headed straight to her room and found her just about to go and make herself some lunch.
"Hello," she said, apparently surprised to see him.
"Hello, how are you feeling?" he asked anxiously.
"Fine," she answered.
He saw her curiously eyeing the parcels he carried. "I've got some things for lunch here," he told her.
"Oh, okay."
He set off towards the kitchen with Martha dutifully following him, and that word pulled him up short mentally as he abruptly realised the significance of the story told by the three sisters at the Fayre. He immediately resolved to find out where they had heard the story they had told.
The Doctor set down his parcels on the end of the table, then he pulled three of them out of the pile and unwrapped a packet of sandwiches made from thick cut fresh bread, some crumbly fruit scones, and a large rich chocolate cake.
"Tuck in," he said, "and I'll make the tea."
"I can do that," Martha said, abandoning the chair she'd been about to sit in.
He grasped her shoulders gently. "I'll do it," he told her, "you eat." He turned her around and pulled out the chair, waiting for her to sit down, then he got out some plates and passed them over to her. Once the sandwiches, scones and cake were on separate plates and Martha was beginning on a sandwich, he made a pot of tea.
They ate a leisurely lunch while the Doctor told her tales about Skydeskar's traditions and the other planets in the system.
"I thought you hadn't been here before?" Martha asked as they finished off their slices of chocolate cake.
"I haven't," he answered.
"So how come you know so much about the planet and this system?"
"Oh you know me, Martha Jones, I'm a quick study." He didn't dare to tell her that he'd had five days to learn all that he had told her.
She nodded vaguely, licking chocolate from her fingers in an unselfconscious manner that he found quite alluring.
"So, where are we going next?"
"Oh, the next planet in the system," he answered, tearing his gaze away. "I thought we'd just hop from planet to planet until we've visited them all, if that's okay with you?"
She nodded again. "Okay."
"Good."
* * * * * *
The Doctor was so convinced that the TARDIS would be satisfied and let them go somewhere else now, that when he opened the door and saw the familiar snowy landscape of Skydeskar he gave an inarticulate yell of fury, then stomped back to the console, leaving Martha looking at him in a startled and worried manner. As she hurried away to change her clothes, he ranted at his ship, but the TARDIS was indifferent to his anger.
If you think that buying Martha a picnic lunch is enough to make up for what she went through, the TARDIS said, then you have a lot to learn.
"What do you want me to do?" demanded the Time Lord angrily.
Show her that you care and that you appreciate what she endured while keeping your human self safe.
He growled, pulling at his hair in frustration.
"Doctor?" Martha sounded tentative, he noticed, as she cautiously approached him. "Is everything okay?"
He swallowed hard, trying to bottle up his anger at his ship's meddling, and made himself smile. "Fine, everything's fine," he answered, but he could see that she wasn't entirely convinced. "Let's go and explore."
Once they were outside, he refrained from commenting on alien snow, and instead asked Martha if she liked snow, and then encouraged her to tell him about her and her siblings' efforts to build a snowman when they were children.
"We never managed it as we struggled to get the head up onto the body. We always made it too big for us to lift."
The Doctor gave her a grin. "Let's build a snowman now," he suggested.
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why?"
"Why not?" he countered. "I haven't made one for centuries, but it'd be fun."
Martha gave him a look that clearly said she thought he was a bit mad, but then she shrugged. "All right, then."
He got the feeling that she was just indulging him, but he didn't mind since he was determined that she was going to have a fun day, and besides, if they spent some time building a snowman together, then they would miss the sisters' storytelling, which meant that Martha would not get upset.
"Have you got some gloves?" she asked as he was about to gather up some snow. "I know your body temperature is lower than mine, but you might still want some gloves."
He dug in his coat pocket with one hand, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders. "Ever the doctor, Martha Jones." He pulled out a pair of leather gloves, then kissed her forehead before putting them on. He winked at her startled expression, and she ducked her head before beginning to make her own snowball.
As they worked on their snowman, the Doctor encouraged Martha to talk about her childhood and her desire to become a doctor, drawing her out with further questions every time she showed signs of stopping.
Finally the snowman was finished, apart from the nose and eyes.
"Don't tell me, you've got coal and a carrot in your coat pocket," teased Martha. She was flushed from their efforts, but her eyes were bright with amusement, and the Doctor felt all his senses stirred when looking at her.
"Doctor?" She was looking slightly uncomfortable, and he realised abruptly that he'd been staring.
"No, no coal or carrots, might have a banana though, if you're hungry, although I was thinking of something more substantial for lunch," he answered, aware that he was practically babbling.
Martha watched, slightly bewildered by his manner, as he bounded across the snow to the bank of a stream she had noticed earlier. He returned with two large round stones, and two sticks, which he rapidly used to provide eyes, nose and mouth for the snowman. He grinned at her almost as widely as the snowman itself.
"What do you reckon?" he asked, looking absurdly pleased with himself.
"Not bad," she answered, grinning when he began to splutter in mock outrage.
"Martha Jones, you're a very cheeky young woman!" he exclaimed, "and I think you should be punished." He bent and gathered a double handful of snow, but when he straightened up, a snowball was already flying his way. It caught his shoulder and he dashed across to grab Martha, trying to shove his snow down her neck. She shrieked and they wrestled vigorously for a few minutes until the Doctor slipped and fell over, pulling Martha down with him.
"Truce, truce!" he cried quickly.
Martha nodded breathlessly, then looked around for her hat which had been dislodged during their struggle. The Doctor picked it up and dusted the snow off before setting it back on her head, then he bent his head and kissed her carefully on the mouth.
When he pulled away, Martha was clutching the front of his coat tightly, a surprised expression on her face. "What was that for?" she asked shakily.
"Because you look gorgeous, and I wanted to," he said, his eyes fixed on hers.
She ducked her head. "Thank you."
"Come on," he said, getting up and pulling her up too. "Let's go and find some lunch."
They brushed the snow off themselves and each other, then the Doctor took Martha's hand in his and put them both into his pocket.
"Oh look, there's a Winter Fayre on," Martha said, spotting the overhead banner.
"We'll go and have a look after lunch if you like," the Doctor suggested.
"Yes please."
He nodded, then led her over to a restaurant where they were soon enjoying salmon with fresh pasta and vegetables for lunch. Afterwards, they headed through the town to the field where the Fayre was being held and wandered, hand in hand, looking at the various stalls and attractions. The Doctor became rather lavish, buying Martha several presents: the first was a matching hat and scarf set knitted in bright red wool with a pattern of green holly leaves worked into them both. He pocketed the hat she had been wearing, and set the red one on her head, then draped the scarf around her neck.
"That's better," he said. "You look good in red, and when you were dressed all in grey and black, it looked too much like your maid's uniform." He gave her a quick kiss. "And I'm sure you don't want reminding about those two months."
She shook her head; now that he'd pointed it out, Martha realised that she was dressed in grey and black, even down to the black t-shirt she wore under her roll neck sweater.
The Doctor went on to buy some home-made fudge, a selection of chocolates, and a rich chocolate cake; then he bought her a book on the history of medicine and a blue leather-bound edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets. Martha was startled to find Earth books so far from home, but he explained that they had probably once belonged to colonists who'd settled out here.
"Humanity travels a long way into the stars in your future," he told her as he pocketed his change and handed her the small canvas bag in which the stallholder had put her new books.
The Doctor's final purchase was an exquisite herbal which looked like a wooden paintbox on the outside, but opened up to reveal bright illustrations of a variety of herbs that had been carved and painted into the pale wood.
Martha stammered a thank you, then threw her arms around him and hugged him while the stallholder wrapped it for her.
"Come on, we'll take this lot back to the TARDIS," he said. "There's a ball tonight and we don't want to lug this lot around at it."
"A ball?" asked Martha, wide-eyed with surprise.
He nodded. "They hold a Winter Ball at the Fayre, and I would be honoured, Miss Jones, if you would be my partner."
She stared, struck speechless for the moment, then nodded.
"Brilliant!" he said, beaming.
When they got back to the TARDIS the Doctor noticed, to his great relief, that the ship's hum sounded pleased, and he felt a bit smug as he pulled off his coat and gloves, then followed Martha to her room, carrying the carefully wrapped herbal under one arm.
He set it down on Martha's desk, watching from the corner of his eye as she took off her outdoor clothes. When she sat down on the bed to take off her boots, he knelt in front of her and removed them for her.
"Are your feet aching?" he asked, when she rubbed the left one as he took of the right boot.
"A bit," she admitted.
"Want a foot massage?" She nodded, so he gestured at the bed. "Why don't you lie down?" he suggested, then he took off his blue suit jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and pulled off his Converse. He knelt on the bed by her feet, leaning back on his heels, and lifting Martha's left foot up to rest by the heel on his thigh, he began to carefully massage her foot.
"Oh god, that feels nice," she said.
He grinned at her. "That's the plan," he told her, his long fingers working her muscles loose.
Martha closed her eyes and tried not to think about how his hands would feel massaging certain other parts of her body, although it wasn't easy when the images leapt into her mind unbidden.
The Doctor sensed that she was becoming aroused and wondered if she'd be horrified if she knew he was too. Since there was only one way to find out, he carefully flexed her foot so that her toes briefly brushed against his growing erection as he massaged the muscles. She didn't snatch her foot away, so he continued the massage, accidentally-on-purpose brushing her toes against his crotch a couple more times.
After the third such touch, Martha spoke. "Doctor?"
"Hmm?" He noticed that her eyes were still closed and she looked very relaxed.
"Do you have a foot fetish?" She opened her eyes and looked directly at him, flexing her foot herself to rub her toes against his bulging trousers.
"N-n-not as such," he stuttered as she carefully rubbed her foot up and down.
"No?" she asked. "I'm surprised, because to me it feels like you're quite hard."
He moaned and she immediately sat up, replacing her foot with her hand. "Seems to me, Mr Smith, like you could do with a massage too." She snaked her free arm around his neck and pulled his head closer to kiss him as she stroked him through his trousers.
"M-Martha, p-please," he begged, his breath stuttering against her cheek when he pulled free.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"You," he gasped. "I want to make love to you."
She moved her hand away and put it on his arm, looking at him searchingly. "Really?"
The Doctor focused his attention on her. "Really," he answered. He leant forward and kissed her as he slid his hands under her jumper and stroked her sides through her t-shirt, before pushing that aside too, desperate to touch her bare skin.
"This would be easier if you let me undress," Martha laughed as she pulled away from the Doctor.
"I want to undress you," he told her.
"We could undress each other," she suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him.
"We could," he agreed, lifting her jumper up and over her head.
She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped that off, both of them dropping their clothes onto the floor. Martha's t-shirt was next to go, then he leaned forward to kiss the side of her neck and down to the tops of her breasts, one arm wrapped across her back to support her. As the Doctor's mouth moved across her skin, he unfastened the clasp on her bra, and then he was nipping and sucking at her nipples, one after the other. She moaned in pleasure, arching her back so that her breasts thrust up towards the Time Lord's busy mouth and he hummed with satisfaction.
"Oh god!" she gasped as jolts of pleasure shot through her body straight to her increasingly heated core. "Doctor, please!"
He lowered her down to lie flat on the bed, then unfastened her jeans and quickly pulled them down, then tugged off her socks, before ducking his head to drag his tongue up the length of her entrance, pulling the silk of her knickers tight against her skin.
Martha moaned again as he slid the material aside with his nose and pushed two fingers into her slick heat.
"Come for me, Martha," he whispered against her skin as his fingers twisted and turned inside her pussy, stroking her in all the right places until her hips bucked upwards and she came hard, her muscles clenching tightly around his probing fingers.
"That's my girl." He slipped her knickers off and dropped them onto the pile of clothes, then stretched out between her legs to lap up her juices while his thumb teased her clit until she came again.
Eventually the Doctor moved to sit between her spread legs, a very pleased expression on his face as he watched his companion coming down from her high.
"Okay?" he asked softly when she finally opened her eyes.
"Yes." She smiled up at him. "Thank you."
"Believe me, Miss Jones, it was my pleasure," he assured her, eliciting a rich chuckle that made him harden even further.
Martha sat up, and lightly caressed his cock through his trousers. "Your turn now, I think," she said quietly. She began licking his Adam's apple as she unfastened his trousers, then pulled back. "You're going to have to move if I'm to get these off without ripping them."
He stood up on the bed and she quickly shimmied the trousers down to his ankles, and then he kicked them off, before dragging off his socks. Martha cupped his balls in one hand and ducked her head to lap lightly at the head of his cock, causing him to groan.
"Please Martha," he ground out through gritted teeth.
She looked up at him through her lashes and he groaned. "You're killing me," he told her, his voice strained.
"Oh I do hope not," she said, giggling a little. She clasped his hands in hers and pulled on his arms, urging him to kneel on the bed again. "Where do you want me, Mr Smith?"
"Lie down again please."
She obeyed and he moved his body over hers, easily sliding his cock inside her. She gasped a bit, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers.
"Fuck me," she growled in his ear, and he immediately began to thrust deep and hard until he brought them both to an intense climax.
"Sorry," he said, looking a bit sheepish.
"For what?" asked Martha, eyebrows raised.
"Well, that was over a bit quick," he said, the tips of his ears turning red.
"Silly man," she said, smiling up at him. "I don't mind, and it's not as if I hadn't already had two orgasms. Besides, there's no reason we can't do this again, is there?"
He grinned down at her. "Definitely not."
"There we go then." She pulled his head down to kiss him languidly until she was forced to stop for want of breath, then she shifted her hips a bit and he lifted his head to look down at her.
"Feeling a bit insatiable, are we?" he teased, well aware that his cock, which was still inside her, was half hard again already thanks to their kisses.
"A bit," she agreed, smirking up at him. "That a problem?"
"Not at all," he answered, dipping his head to kiss her again, and sliding his left hand down her side to cup her breast, teasing her nipple to hardness. He continued to kiss her as he switched hands and teased her other nipple until it matched the first, then he lifted himself up, ignoring Martha's whimper as he slipped out of her.
"Turn over," he said softly.
She rolled over, then lifted herself up onto her hands and knees, and he grinned, pleased that she had immediately guessed what he wanted. He held her hips as he slid his now fully erect cock back into her from behind, then he moved his hands to her breasts and began to play with them as he thrust slowly and carefully. After a while his right hand drifted from her breast to tease her clit and Martha shuddered in pleasure, then began pushing back at him.
"Please," she said desperately.
He leant forward to nip at her earlobe before asking, "Please what?"
"Harder," she gasped, "fuck me harder, please."
He began nuzzling the side of her neck, lapping at the skin, then administering little nips as he sped up the pace and depth of his thrusts.
When he felt close to coming he bit her neck more forcefully and she cried out as she came, triggering his orgasm in turn, and they both collapsed onto the bed. The Doctor quickly rolled off her, not wanting to squash her.
"Okay?" he asked, as she rolled onto her back, breathing heavily.
"Yeah." She rolled her head to one side and looked at him. "Do we have to go to this Ball?"
His eyes widened. "Well, no, we don't absolutely have to, but don't you want to?"
She looked a bit bashful as she shook her head. "I'd rather just stay here with you," she said. "If that's okay."
"Weeeeell," he said, drawing the word out unnecessarily. "I had got my heart set on seeing you in a rather nice red dress, but - "
"But what?" asked Martha, when he left the sentence dangling.
"Well, the TARDIS can provide music, and we've plenty of space for dancing in, so we could stay here and have a private dance."
"That might be fun," she said, shifting closer and resting her head on his right shoulder, "but I refuse to get out of bed just yet."
He chuckled. "All right, Miss Jones, you can stay here for now." He began stroking her hair and she rested her right arm across his chest. She wondered what had brought him to this point, but she was a little nervous about asking. Maybe later, she thought, closing her eyes.
Are you satisfied, now? the Doctor asked the TARDIS. The ship hummed an affirmative. Thank you, he said. His eyes closed too, and they both slept for a while.
The TARDIS' hum took on a smug note at the success of her ploy.