Midnight
Title: Midnight
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Tenth Doctor/Sarah Jane Smith
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Doomsday at a push
Summary: Set after S2. It's New Year's Eve and Sarah Jane Smith has a visitor.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and all that jazz…
Author Notes: This story is for syreene for her birthday - have a good one, hon !
~~~~~~
The noise of fireworks exploding in the night sky drowns out the sound of ancient engines wheezing as a blue police box materialises in a side street of a London suburb. Had anyone been watching, they would have seen a tall, skinny male in a blue suit and a long brown coat emerge, frowning at the noise and lights overhead. The figure runs a long fingered hand through his tousled brown hair before striding around the corner and approaching a tall house in Bannerman Road.
The Doctor knocks loudly, trying to suppress his feeling that this is a bad idea and that he won't be welcome here. There's a light on, so he knows someone's still awake despite the time being just shy of midnight.
The door opens and an older woman stands in the hallway staring in amazement at her visitor.
"'ello Sarah Jane. Happy New Year." He grins, his teeth gleaming in the light of the fireworks being let off in anticipation of the midnight hour.
"Doctor?" She reaches out and he steps closer, his arms going around her in a tight hug, his nose buried in her hair. Eventually they pull apart a little and she looks up into his brown eyes, seeing pain hiding behind laughter as he grins down at her.
"You're in your PJs!" he exclaims and she blushes, which he notes. He notes, too, the hitch in her breathing as she reaches past him to shut the front door.
"Not that it's not nice to see you again, but what are you doing here?" Sarah Jane takes his cool hand in her warm one and leads him into the main room.
"I just came to wish my best friend a Happy New Year," he says so simply that she believes him, and she can't help the surge of pleasure she feels at the knowledge that he still calls her his best friend.
"Do you want a drink?" she asks.
"Nah, it's wasted on me. I'd rather just drink in the sight of you."
She feels her face flush even as she laughs. "Doctor, that's probably the cheesiest thing you've ever said."
"Oh." His face falls and she suppresses the urge to kiss him at the sight of his pout and the melting look he gives her. Dear God, stop it woman! You'll embarrass yourself and him!
"I meant it as a compliment," he says softly, and once again she believes him, there's too much warmth and sincerity in his eyes for her to doubt that he's telling the truth.
"Sit down," she says after a moment, gesturing at the sofa. He pulls off his long overcoat and throws it, unerringly and without looking, over the armchair on the other side of the room, then sits down. She sits beside him, picking up her glass of wine from the side table.
He turns sideways, looking at her profile. "No party then?"
Sarah Jane shakes her head, the light catching the hints of silver amongst the brown. "Not tonight. I've been to half a dozen parties in the last ten days, so I decided to stay home tonight."
"I'm glad," the Doctor murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Why?" she asks, pleased that her voice is steady although she feels nervous at his gesture.
"Because I came to see my Sarah Jane, not her friends - although I'm sure they're nice people." He's playing with a lock of her hair now, his elbow resting on the back of the sofa, and she's finding it harder to breathe evenly.
"What about you?" she asks, then bites her tongue for being so thoughtless. She had seen Rose's name on the list of the dead after the Battle of Canary Wharf. She doesn't know how much time has passed for him since then, but she suspects it's still fairly recent when she sees a flare of pain in the depths of his brown eyes. She curses herself silently. "I'm sorry, I didn't - "
"Shh." The Doctor places one slender finger over her lips. "It's OK. She's in a parallel world with her mother and Mickey. She's safe. I hope she's happy. But I didn't come here because of that - I don't want tea and sympathy." He lowers his hand from her mouth and she catches it in her own and gives his fingers a squeeze. He turns his wrist and captures her hand in his own, lifting it to place a soft kiss on the palm and for a moment Sarah Jane feels as if her heart has stopped beating and she's forgotten how to breathe. Her eyes are wide in astonishment, but he sees something else in them too, and although he didn't come here tonight with any intentions except to see her and wish her a Happy New Year, he feels a stirring of desire. Her lips have parted unconsciously as she tries to get her breathing back under control again and the stirring becomes stronger. He watches her closely, noting the way she is looking at him, and remembering other times that she looked at him that way, when he wore a different face and she was younger. Not that she's old now, at least not compared to him.
He's still holding her left hand in his right, and now he reaches out with his left hand and cups her face, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone. She sighs, closing her eyes and he immediately leans forward and presses his lips against hers. He feels a shiver run through her and knows he hasn't read her wrong. Sarah Jane wonders if she fell asleep in front of the TV and is dreaming that the Doctor has turned up and is now kissing her tenderly.
"Sarah Jane?" His whisper caresses her cheek.
"Doctor?"
"Do you want this?" he asks softly.
"Yes," she breathes and then he's kissing her again, but more firmly this time, and her lips part under his. Immediately he slides his tongue into her mouth, and she reaches up with her right hand to hold the back of his neck. As her hand slides across his neck he makes a pleased sound and she immediately repeats the gesture. He reaches down and thumbs her nipple which hardens under his touch. She gasps and pulls away, breathing heavily and looking at him hazily. He rests his forehead against hers as his hand continues to massage her breast through her pyjama top.
"If I'd been asked, I'd have guessed you wore silk, not cotton," he whispers.
"Sometimes I do, but not tonight."
"Pity," he murmurs, then he's dextrously undoing the buttons one handed as he massages her other breast with his left hand.
Sarah Jane feels herself growing wet with desire. "Doctor," she moans.
"Sarah Jane?"
"You're torturing me," she gasps.
He pulls his hands away from her abruptly and her eyes snap open in surprise.
"I'm sorry," he says, colour flooding his cheeks, making his freckles even more noticeable. He starts to get up, but she grabs his wrist and pulls him back down.
"What's wrong?" she asks, baffled.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he says, sniffing in embarrassment.
"You didn't hurt me," she assures him. "What made you think you had?"
"You said I was torturing you." He's looking anywhere but at her.
She laughs softly, then reaches up to cradle his cheek with her free hand. "Did you really not know that torturing someone by teasing them is often quite acceptable?" she asks. He shakes his head, wide-eyed. "Sometimes, I forget you're an alien," she tells him. She stands up and tugs him to his feet. "Come to bed and torture me some more. I may even return the favour.
His eyes widen further, and she can't help glancing down at his too-tight trousers and sees he's clearly aroused. She finds herself smiling at the sight and the next moment she gasps as he grabs her, picks her up and carries her to the door. She clicks off the light in passing.
"Bedroom?" he asks huskily as he makes light of the stairs. She's so surprised at how strong he is, that she can only point in the right direction as he reaches the top of the staircase. He pushes the door open with his knee, then carries her over to the bed, dropping her in the middle. She giggles suddenly, trying to cover the fact that she's even more aroused now. She watches him as he strips off his clothes rapidly and stares openly at his exposed cock which is even bigger than she'd guessed, and very hard. He climbs onto the bed and quickly pulls off her pyjamas, staring equally frankly at her breasts and thighs.
"I always knew you were gorgeous," he tells her.
"I was," she agrees.
"You still are," he contradicts as he gives her that same warmly sincere look as before. He kneels over her body, then bends down and kisses her hungrily, the tip of his cock leaving wet smears across her skin. His hands find her breasts and he massages them, but soon his hands are wandering across her body, together with his mouth, and she begins to feel as if he's set fire to her skin. His long, slender fingers and agile tongue are doing exquisite things to her and she soon feels awash with pleasure. Then he slides one finger into her slick heat and she gasps his name, causing him to grin up at her from where he's kneeling between her legs. The grin is cheeky as well as seductive, and the next moment she cries out, her hips jerking upwards as he hits just the right spot inside her. He continues stroking her, prolonging her orgasm as he shifts position to lean down and kiss her, then suck on her bottom lip.
Finally he pulls his finger free and goes back to kneeling between her legs before he slides his cock inside her in one long, slow thrust that leaves her gasping and clutching handfuls of sheet as he fills her. She clutches at his shoulders as he begins to move, a slow withdrawal until he almost slips out of her, then a faster thrust back inside. At first she's too overwhelmed by the fact that this is the Doctor who's in her bed, fucking her, to do anything but gasp and moan. Then she begins to move with him, matching his rhythm, and he gives her a bright grin before she starts to come again. As her muscles spasm around his cock, his rhythm begins to break down and then he's coming too, pumping his release into her with gasps of her name. He slumps forward, resting his weight on his forearms, breathing heavily and she pulls him down to lie on top of her - he's so skinny, she can take his weight easily. She strokes his back, feeling his bones through his skin, and she thinks that he needs more flesh on his bones. Then smiles at the thought that she's thinking of mothering him despite his age, and hers.
He lifts his head and gives her a grin. "Sarah Jane, that was wonderful."
She smiles back at him. "Yes it was."
He pulls away from her to lie beside her on his side, one hand stroking idle patterns on her stomach. "I wish we'd done that before."
"It may be just as well we didn't," she tells him.
"Why?" He looks at her with wide-eyed curiosity.
"I might never have let you get out of bed again," she answers candidly.
His eyes grow even wider and his jaw slackens as a flush steals over his face, and she thinks that maybe she won't let him get out of her bed yet. "Really?" he asks in disbelief. She nods, smiling, as he looks down at his body, then back up at her face. "Oh." He flops down onto his back, his hands behind his head and she feels desire stirring again as she takes in the view. He glances up at her and sees the look in her eyes. "Does that mean we can do it again?" he asks.
"Oh I rather think so," she answers.
So they do.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Tenth Doctor/Sarah Jane Smith
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Doomsday at a push
Summary: Set after S2. It's New Year's Eve and Sarah Jane Smith has a visitor.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and all that jazz…
Author Notes: This story is for syreene for her birthday - have a good one, hon !
~~~~~~
The noise of fireworks exploding in the night sky drowns out the sound of ancient engines wheezing as a blue police box materialises in a side street of a London suburb. Had anyone been watching, they would have seen a tall, skinny male in a blue suit and a long brown coat emerge, frowning at the noise and lights overhead. The figure runs a long fingered hand through his tousled brown hair before striding around the corner and approaching a tall house in Bannerman Road.
The Doctor knocks loudly, trying to suppress his feeling that this is a bad idea and that he won't be welcome here. There's a light on, so he knows someone's still awake despite the time being just shy of midnight.
The door opens and an older woman stands in the hallway staring in amazement at her visitor.
"'ello Sarah Jane. Happy New Year." He grins, his teeth gleaming in the light of the fireworks being let off in anticipation of the midnight hour.
"Doctor?" She reaches out and he steps closer, his arms going around her in a tight hug, his nose buried in her hair. Eventually they pull apart a little and she looks up into his brown eyes, seeing pain hiding behind laughter as he grins down at her.
"You're in your PJs!" he exclaims and she blushes, which he notes. He notes, too, the hitch in her breathing as she reaches past him to shut the front door.
"Not that it's not nice to see you again, but what are you doing here?" Sarah Jane takes his cool hand in her warm one and leads him into the main room.
"I just came to wish my best friend a Happy New Year," he says so simply that she believes him, and she can't help the surge of pleasure she feels at the knowledge that he still calls her his best friend.
"Do you want a drink?" she asks.
"Nah, it's wasted on me. I'd rather just drink in the sight of you."
She feels her face flush even as she laughs. "Doctor, that's probably the cheesiest thing you've ever said."
"Oh." His face falls and she suppresses the urge to kiss him at the sight of his pout and the melting look he gives her. Dear God, stop it woman! You'll embarrass yourself and him!
"I meant it as a compliment," he says softly, and once again she believes him, there's too much warmth and sincerity in his eyes for her to doubt that he's telling the truth.
"Sit down," she says after a moment, gesturing at the sofa. He pulls off his long overcoat and throws it, unerringly and without looking, over the armchair on the other side of the room, then sits down. She sits beside him, picking up her glass of wine from the side table.
He turns sideways, looking at her profile. "No party then?"
Sarah Jane shakes her head, the light catching the hints of silver amongst the brown. "Not tonight. I've been to half a dozen parties in the last ten days, so I decided to stay home tonight."
"I'm glad," the Doctor murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Why?" she asks, pleased that her voice is steady although she feels nervous at his gesture.
"Because I came to see my Sarah Jane, not her friends - although I'm sure they're nice people." He's playing with a lock of her hair now, his elbow resting on the back of the sofa, and she's finding it harder to breathe evenly.
"What about you?" she asks, then bites her tongue for being so thoughtless. She had seen Rose's name on the list of the dead after the Battle of Canary Wharf. She doesn't know how much time has passed for him since then, but she suspects it's still fairly recent when she sees a flare of pain in the depths of his brown eyes. She curses herself silently. "I'm sorry, I didn't - "
"Shh." The Doctor places one slender finger over her lips. "It's OK. She's in a parallel world with her mother and Mickey. She's safe. I hope she's happy. But I didn't come here because of that - I don't want tea and sympathy." He lowers his hand from her mouth and she catches it in her own and gives his fingers a squeeze. He turns his wrist and captures her hand in his own, lifting it to place a soft kiss on the palm and for a moment Sarah Jane feels as if her heart has stopped beating and she's forgotten how to breathe. Her eyes are wide in astonishment, but he sees something else in them too, and although he didn't come here tonight with any intentions except to see her and wish her a Happy New Year, he feels a stirring of desire. Her lips have parted unconsciously as she tries to get her breathing back under control again and the stirring becomes stronger. He watches her closely, noting the way she is looking at him, and remembering other times that she looked at him that way, when he wore a different face and she was younger. Not that she's old now, at least not compared to him.
He's still holding her left hand in his right, and now he reaches out with his left hand and cups her face, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone. She sighs, closing her eyes and he immediately leans forward and presses his lips against hers. He feels a shiver run through her and knows he hasn't read her wrong. Sarah Jane wonders if she fell asleep in front of the TV and is dreaming that the Doctor has turned up and is now kissing her tenderly.
"Sarah Jane?" His whisper caresses her cheek.
"Doctor?"
"Do you want this?" he asks softly.
"Yes," she breathes and then he's kissing her again, but more firmly this time, and her lips part under his. Immediately he slides his tongue into her mouth, and she reaches up with her right hand to hold the back of his neck. As her hand slides across his neck he makes a pleased sound and she immediately repeats the gesture. He reaches down and thumbs her nipple which hardens under his touch. She gasps and pulls away, breathing heavily and looking at him hazily. He rests his forehead against hers as his hand continues to massage her breast through her pyjama top.
"If I'd been asked, I'd have guessed you wore silk, not cotton," he whispers.
"Sometimes I do, but not tonight."
"Pity," he murmurs, then he's dextrously undoing the buttons one handed as he massages her other breast with his left hand.
Sarah Jane feels herself growing wet with desire. "Doctor," she moans.
"Sarah Jane?"
"You're torturing me," she gasps.
He pulls his hands away from her abruptly and her eyes snap open in surprise.
"I'm sorry," he says, colour flooding his cheeks, making his freckles even more noticeable. He starts to get up, but she grabs his wrist and pulls him back down.
"What's wrong?" she asks, baffled.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he says, sniffing in embarrassment.
"You didn't hurt me," she assures him. "What made you think you had?"
"You said I was torturing you." He's looking anywhere but at her.
She laughs softly, then reaches up to cradle his cheek with her free hand. "Did you really not know that torturing someone by teasing them is often quite acceptable?" she asks. He shakes his head, wide-eyed. "Sometimes, I forget you're an alien," she tells him. She stands up and tugs him to his feet. "Come to bed and torture me some more. I may even return the favour.
His eyes widen further, and she can't help glancing down at his too-tight trousers and sees he's clearly aroused. She finds herself smiling at the sight and the next moment she gasps as he grabs her, picks her up and carries her to the door. She clicks off the light in passing.
"Bedroom?" he asks huskily as he makes light of the stairs. She's so surprised at how strong he is, that she can only point in the right direction as he reaches the top of the staircase. He pushes the door open with his knee, then carries her over to the bed, dropping her in the middle. She giggles suddenly, trying to cover the fact that she's even more aroused now. She watches him as he strips off his clothes rapidly and stares openly at his exposed cock which is even bigger than she'd guessed, and very hard. He climbs onto the bed and quickly pulls off her pyjamas, staring equally frankly at her breasts and thighs.
"I always knew you were gorgeous," he tells her.
"I was," she agrees.
"You still are," he contradicts as he gives her that same warmly sincere look as before. He kneels over her body, then bends down and kisses her hungrily, the tip of his cock leaving wet smears across her skin. His hands find her breasts and he massages them, but soon his hands are wandering across her body, together with his mouth, and she begins to feel as if he's set fire to her skin. His long, slender fingers and agile tongue are doing exquisite things to her and she soon feels awash with pleasure. Then he slides one finger into her slick heat and she gasps his name, causing him to grin up at her from where he's kneeling between her legs. The grin is cheeky as well as seductive, and the next moment she cries out, her hips jerking upwards as he hits just the right spot inside her. He continues stroking her, prolonging her orgasm as he shifts position to lean down and kiss her, then suck on her bottom lip.
Finally he pulls his finger free and goes back to kneeling between her legs before he slides his cock inside her in one long, slow thrust that leaves her gasping and clutching handfuls of sheet as he fills her. She clutches at his shoulders as he begins to move, a slow withdrawal until he almost slips out of her, then a faster thrust back inside. At first she's too overwhelmed by the fact that this is the Doctor who's in her bed, fucking her, to do anything but gasp and moan. Then she begins to move with him, matching his rhythm, and he gives her a bright grin before she starts to come again. As her muscles spasm around his cock, his rhythm begins to break down and then he's coming too, pumping his release into her with gasps of her name. He slumps forward, resting his weight on his forearms, breathing heavily and she pulls him down to lie on top of her - he's so skinny, she can take his weight easily. She strokes his back, feeling his bones through his skin, and she thinks that he needs more flesh on his bones. Then smiles at the thought that she's thinking of mothering him despite his age, and hers.
He lifts his head and gives her a grin. "Sarah Jane, that was wonderful."
She smiles back at him. "Yes it was."
He pulls away from her to lie beside her on his side, one hand stroking idle patterns on her stomach. "I wish we'd done that before."
"It may be just as well we didn't," she tells him.
"Why?" He looks at her with wide-eyed curiosity.
"I might never have let you get out of bed again," she answers candidly.
His eyes grow even wider and his jaw slackens as a flush steals over his face, and she thinks that maybe she won't let him get out of her bed yet. "Really?" he asks in disbelief. She nods, smiling, as he looks down at his body, then back up at her face. "Oh." He flops down onto his back, his hands behind his head and she feels desire stirring again as she takes in the view. He glances up at her and sees the look in her eyes. "Does that mean we can do it again?" he asks.
"Oh I rather think so," she answers.
So they do.