Comfort and Companionship
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/249452.html">Comfort and Companionship by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha/Jack | Rating: R | Spoilers: 3.13)
Title: Comfort and Companionship
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Jack
Rating: R
Spoilers: The Last of the Time Lords
Summary: Martha and Jack spend some time together while the Doctor mourns.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: I recently did a fic meme, offering to write a Drabble for the first ten people to request one. mischief89 requested Martha/Jack smuttiness after they leave the Valiant in 3.13, and this one didn't so much run, as gallop, away from me!
Beta: the lovely fourzoas
~~~~~~
Jack and Martha walked into the TARDIS, leaving the Doctor to his self-imposed task of creating a funeral pyre for the Master. He'd refused their offers of assistance with a firm insistence that he could manage.
"Go and get some rest, both of you," he said quietly. "You've more than earned it. We'll be here for several hours while the TARDIS recovers and I do what's necessary."
Jack nodded, then put his arm around Martha's shoulders and led her towards the waiting ship. "Come on, sweetheart. I don't know about you, but a long, hot soak is what I want first, then food and rest."
She glanced back at the Time Lord as he walked towards a nearby wood, an axe resting over his shoulder, then looked up at the man beside her. "That sounds like heaven," she agreed.
He dropped a kiss on her forehead, then guided her through the door and into the ship.
"My room's there," she said, indicating the door as Jack led her past and into the depths of the TARDIS.
"I know," he said. "But which would you prefer? A long, hot soak in a deep bathtub filled with loads of bubbles, or a quick scrub in the shower in your ensuite?"
Martha couldn't help whimpering a little. "Soak," she answered, her voice husky.
"Thought so."
He guided her into a large bathroom and she gasped in surprise at the enormous sunken bath in the middle of the floor.
"You get undressed," he said, "and I'll find you some bubble bath."
He walked across to a long, low cupboard that stood against the far wall, and opened the doors to reveal an array of thick, snowy white towels, all neatly folded, and a shelf half full of dozens of bottles of different sizes and colours.
When Jack turned around, he almost dropped the stack of towels and the bottle of bubble bath he'd removed from the cupboard; Martha had taken him quite literally and undressed without bothering to stand behind one of the screens along the far wall. Nor had she made use of one of the thick fluffy bathrobes that were hanging on hooks to the right of the door. While he hadn't particularly thought she was a prude, he hadn't expected her to be quite so open with him either.
"Jack?" The worry in her voice as she said his name snapped his attention back to her and he realised two things at once: he was staring at her open-mouthed, and his trousers were far too tight for comfort. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, fine," he answered automatically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare." He gave her a deprecating smile. "I'm not used to women from your century being quite so open about undressing in front of me."
"Oh!" She felt a blush heating her cheeks. "I - I didn't think, sorry. I'm just not used to having time for modesty." She turned to grab a bathrobe, and he quickly set down his burdens, and moved to her side.
"It's okay," he said softly. "Don't be embarrassed, or ashamed. It's not necessary, I assure you." He held her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. "I'm flattered, actually. It's not every day a beautiful woman does something like that." He kissed her forehead. "Mind if I join you?"
"I don't mind," she whispered.
"Thank you."
She watched him covertly as he stripped off his filthy clothing, revealing a strong, well muscled body, and she felt herself blushing again when he dropped his trousers and revealed that he wasn't wearing any underwear. Her blush deepened when he flashed her a grin and winked, before turning on the bath taps and pouring a generous amount of bath oil into the tub.
"C'mon in," he said, holding out his hand to her. "The water's lovely."
She gave a short laugh, then accepted his hand and let him help her step down into the bath, moaning in pleasure as the scent of jasmine filled the air, and the warm water lapped against her aching legs.
They settled against the wall of the bath, sitting side by side with their legs stretched before them, Martha's left hand clasped in Jack's right; he'd half expected her to let go once they sat down, but she didn't seem in any hurry to do so.
Half an hour passed, both of them enjoying the silence and the chance to do nothing, before the water started to cool down.
Jack reached up and turned on the hot tap to top up the water, then grabbed a sponge and some soap. "May I have the honour?" he asked, gesturing at her with the sponge.
Martha raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she agreed, amused.
He got the sense she was merely humouring him, but he didn't mind if she thought he was a little strange. He began to wash her body, using firm, careful strokes to cut through the grime.
"When was the last time you managed a proper bath or shower?" he asked.
"Months ago," she answered, her eyes closed.
"Where were you?"
She opened her eyes and looked up into his warm blue ones. "Can we not talk about it just now, please?" she asked.
He gave her an apologetic nod. "If you'd rather not."
"I'd rather get a few hours sleep first," she explained.
"I understand," he assured her.
Once he'd finished his task, she took the sponge from him and returned the favour, then they helped each other out of the bath and towelled off.
"Don't worry about your clothes," Jack said as she bent to pick up her discarded underwear. "We'll deal with cleaning it up later. Let's get you to bed." He wrapped her in one of the bathrobes, then scooped her up into his arms and carried her towards her room.
"Jack!" she protested, laughing.
"Yes Martha?" He grinned down at her.
"I can walk, you know."
"Of course you can," he answered. "But you've just spent a year walking, so I'm giving you a lift."
"Thank you," she murmured.
He smiled contentedly when she settled her head in the crook of his neck, and by the time he lowered her onto her bed, she was half asleep.
"Do you want to sleep before eating?" he asked softly as he helped her under the duvet, then took her bathrobe and dropped it on the nearby chair.
"Yeah," she agreed. She looked up at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her.
"What is it?"
"Will you stay with me, please?" She looked embarrassed to be making the request.
"If that's what you want," he answered.
"It's just - well, I'm not used to sleeping on my own any more."
He gave a nod. "Do you want me to find some pyjamas?"
Martha laughed softly. "I've already seen everything, and so have you, so why bother?"
He grinned, and she shifted across the bed to make room for him. A few moments later she was sound asleep, Jack's arm wrapped firmly around her and her head on his chest.
* * * * * *
To Jack's surprise he slept as soundly as Martha, and he was wondering what had woken him when he heard the toilet flushing in the ensuite.
"Oh, you're awake. Sorry." She gave him an apologetic smile as she came around the bed.
"I'm not," he answered, grinning wickedly at her.
She blushed, but she also raised her eyebrows and gave him a rather challenging stare, which just made him grin even more.
"C'mere," he growled, grabbing her wrist carefully and giving her arm a gentle tug, pulling her down on top of him.
"Oh!" Martha couldn't help gasping in surprise when she realised Jack was aroused.
He kissed her and she kissed him back, a surge of desire flooding through her body.
"Okay?" he asked as he began caressing her back and arms.
"Oh yes!" she moaned.
He carefully slipped a finger inside her, eliciting a gasp of surprise; his free hand roamed up and down her back as she lay on top of him, and he teased her mouth with his tongue.
It didn't take him long to bring her to a shuddering, gasping climax, then she moved off him, flopping down onto the bed.
"Blimey, Jack," she whispered.
He kissed her hair, running a finger down her arm. "There's more where that came from," he said softly. "I would like to make love to you, Martha Jones."
She watched him for several long seconds, then nodded, and he ducked his head to kiss her hungrily before moving his body over hers.
"Little nightingale, I want you to sing for me," he said, as he eased inside her.
"Nightingale?" she queried, when she could speak.
"That's how I thought of you, when you were out there, walking the Earth: my little nightingale."
She shook her head, clearly amused, then gasped as he pushed deeper. "Jack!"
"It's okay, sweetheart; I'm not going to hurt you." He leaned down to speak in her ear. "I want you to scream with pleasure not pain."
She moaned, then wrapped her legs around his waist. "Try," she answered, challenging him.
He grinned. "I mean to."
* * * * * *
Two hours later, when Jack offered to get them both something to eat, Martha's voice was hoarse when she agreed, and his grin rivalled the Cheshire Cat's.
Title: Comfort and Companionship
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Jack
Rating: R
Spoilers: The Last of the Time Lords
Summary: Martha and Jack spend some time together while the Doctor mourns.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: I recently did a fic meme, offering to write a Drabble for the first ten people to request one. mischief89 requested Martha/Jack smuttiness after they leave the Valiant in 3.13, and this one didn't so much run, as gallop, away from me!
Beta: the lovely fourzoas
~~~~~~
Jack and Martha walked into the TARDIS, leaving the Doctor to his self-imposed task of creating a funeral pyre for the Master. He'd refused their offers of assistance with a firm insistence that he could manage.
"Go and get some rest, both of you," he said quietly. "You've more than earned it. We'll be here for several hours while the TARDIS recovers and I do what's necessary."
Jack nodded, then put his arm around Martha's shoulders and led her towards the waiting ship. "Come on, sweetheart. I don't know about you, but a long, hot soak is what I want first, then food and rest."
She glanced back at the Time Lord as he walked towards a nearby wood, an axe resting over his shoulder, then looked up at the man beside her. "That sounds like heaven," she agreed.
He dropped a kiss on her forehead, then guided her through the door and into the ship.
"My room's there," she said, indicating the door as Jack led her past and into the depths of the TARDIS.
"I know," he said. "But which would you prefer? A long, hot soak in a deep bathtub filled with loads of bubbles, or a quick scrub in the shower in your ensuite?"
Martha couldn't help whimpering a little. "Soak," she answered, her voice husky.
"Thought so."
He guided her into a large bathroom and she gasped in surprise at the enormous sunken bath in the middle of the floor.
"You get undressed," he said, "and I'll find you some bubble bath."
He walked across to a long, low cupboard that stood against the far wall, and opened the doors to reveal an array of thick, snowy white towels, all neatly folded, and a shelf half full of dozens of bottles of different sizes and colours.
When Jack turned around, he almost dropped the stack of towels and the bottle of bubble bath he'd removed from the cupboard; Martha had taken him quite literally and undressed without bothering to stand behind one of the screens along the far wall. Nor had she made use of one of the thick fluffy bathrobes that were hanging on hooks to the right of the door. While he hadn't particularly thought she was a prude, he hadn't expected her to be quite so open with him either.
"Jack?" The worry in her voice as she said his name snapped his attention back to her and he realised two things at once: he was staring at her open-mouthed, and his trousers were far too tight for comfort. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, fine," he answered automatically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare." He gave her a deprecating smile. "I'm not used to women from your century being quite so open about undressing in front of me."
"Oh!" She felt a blush heating her cheeks. "I - I didn't think, sorry. I'm just not used to having time for modesty." She turned to grab a bathrobe, and he quickly set down his burdens, and moved to her side.
"It's okay," he said softly. "Don't be embarrassed, or ashamed. It's not necessary, I assure you." He held her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. "I'm flattered, actually. It's not every day a beautiful woman does something like that." He kissed her forehead. "Mind if I join you?"
"I don't mind," she whispered.
"Thank you."
She watched him covertly as he stripped off his filthy clothing, revealing a strong, well muscled body, and she felt herself blushing again when he dropped his trousers and revealed that he wasn't wearing any underwear. Her blush deepened when he flashed her a grin and winked, before turning on the bath taps and pouring a generous amount of bath oil into the tub.
"C'mon in," he said, holding out his hand to her. "The water's lovely."
She gave a short laugh, then accepted his hand and let him help her step down into the bath, moaning in pleasure as the scent of jasmine filled the air, and the warm water lapped against her aching legs.
They settled against the wall of the bath, sitting side by side with their legs stretched before them, Martha's left hand clasped in Jack's right; he'd half expected her to let go once they sat down, but she didn't seem in any hurry to do so.
Half an hour passed, both of them enjoying the silence and the chance to do nothing, before the water started to cool down.
Jack reached up and turned on the hot tap to top up the water, then grabbed a sponge and some soap. "May I have the honour?" he asked, gesturing at her with the sponge.
Martha raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she agreed, amused.
He got the sense she was merely humouring him, but he didn't mind if she thought he was a little strange. He began to wash her body, using firm, careful strokes to cut through the grime.
"When was the last time you managed a proper bath or shower?" he asked.
"Months ago," she answered, her eyes closed.
"Where were you?"
She opened her eyes and looked up into his warm blue ones. "Can we not talk about it just now, please?" she asked.
He gave her an apologetic nod. "If you'd rather not."
"I'd rather get a few hours sleep first," she explained.
"I understand," he assured her.
Once he'd finished his task, she took the sponge from him and returned the favour, then they helped each other out of the bath and towelled off.
"Don't worry about your clothes," Jack said as she bent to pick up her discarded underwear. "We'll deal with cleaning it up later. Let's get you to bed." He wrapped her in one of the bathrobes, then scooped her up into his arms and carried her towards her room.
"Jack!" she protested, laughing.
"Yes Martha?" He grinned down at her.
"I can walk, you know."
"Of course you can," he answered. "But you've just spent a year walking, so I'm giving you a lift."
"Thank you," she murmured.
He smiled contentedly when she settled her head in the crook of his neck, and by the time he lowered her onto her bed, she was half asleep.
"Do you want to sleep before eating?" he asked softly as he helped her under the duvet, then took her bathrobe and dropped it on the nearby chair.
"Yeah," she agreed. She looked up at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her.
"What is it?"
"Will you stay with me, please?" She looked embarrassed to be making the request.
"If that's what you want," he answered.
"It's just - well, I'm not used to sleeping on my own any more."
He gave a nod. "Do you want me to find some pyjamas?"
Martha laughed softly. "I've already seen everything, and so have you, so why bother?"
He grinned, and she shifted across the bed to make room for him. A few moments later she was sound asleep, Jack's arm wrapped firmly around her and her head on his chest.
* * * * * *
To Jack's surprise he slept as soundly as Martha, and he was wondering what had woken him when he heard the toilet flushing in the ensuite.
"Oh, you're awake. Sorry." She gave him an apologetic smile as she came around the bed.
"I'm not," he answered, grinning wickedly at her.
She blushed, but she also raised her eyebrows and gave him a rather challenging stare, which just made him grin even more.
"C'mere," he growled, grabbing her wrist carefully and giving her arm a gentle tug, pulling her down on top of him.
"Oh!" Martha couldn't help gasping in surprise when she realised Jack was aroused.
He kissed her and she kissed him back, a surge of desire flooding through her body.
"Okay?" he asked as he began caressing her back and arms.
"Oh yes!" she moaned.
He carefully slipped a finger inside her, eliciting a gasp of surprise; his free hand roamed up and down her back as she lay on top of him, and he teased her mouth with his tongue.
It didn't take him long to bring her to a shuddering, gasping climax, then she moved off him, flopping down onto the bed.
"Blimey, Jack," she whispered.
He kissed her hair, running a finger down her arm. "There's more where that came from," he said softly. "I would like to make love to you, Martha Jones."
She watched him for several long seconds, then nodded, and he ducked his head to kiss her hungrily before moving his body over hers.
"Little nightingale, I want you to sing for me," he said, as he eased inside her.
"Nightingale?" she queried, when she could speak.
"That's how I thought of you, when you were out there, walking the Earth: my little nightingale."
She shook her head, clearly amused, then gasped as he pushed deeper. "Jack!"
"It's okay, sweetheart; I'm not going to hurt you." He leaned down to speak in her ear. "I want you to scream with pleasure not pain."
She moaned, then wrapped her legs around his waist. "Try," she answered, challenging him.
He grinned. "I mean to."
* * * * * *
Two hours later, when Jack offered to get them both something to eat, Martha's voice was hoarse when she agreed, and his grin rivalled the Cheshire Cat's.