Friends
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/282030.html">Friends by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha Jones, Tenth Doctor | Rating: G | Spoilers: Journey's End)
Title: Friends
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Ten
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Journey's End
Summary: After taking Donna home, the Doctor visits his doctor.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: A few people asked if there was going to be a sequel to Kisses - which I had anticipated being asked so here it is. Sadly, it's not as fluffy as 'Kisses' - rather more angsty in fact, as I didn't choose to go AU on 'Journey's End'.
Beta: the kindly fourzoas
~~~~~~
After bidding farewell to Jack and Mickey, Martha headed through town to see her mother in order to assure Francine that she was still alive and well. Then she took herself off to UNIT's London HQ to organise her return to New York as she knew she would need to sort out whatever was left of Project Indigo (which included going back to Germany to collect the backpack itself unless she could delegate that task to someone reliable).
By the time she returned to her flat it was raining heavily - a result of the atmospheric disturbances caused by the shifting of the Earth, according to one of her colleagues who had a meteorological bent - and she was just unlocking the door when she realised that she had no food in the house, and very few clothes since everything was in her Manhattan flat still.
"Damn and blast," she muttered, stepping inside. She'd have to ring for a take-away.
She scooped up the post that her mother hadn't yet had a chance to send on (although most of it appeared to be junk mail) and was just carrying it through to the kitchen when a freak whirlwind started up in the hall. Martha quickly dumped the mail on the table and hurried back into the hall just as the TARDIS solidified.
The door creaked open and a thoroughly rain-sodden Time Lord stepped out, an unhappy expression on his face.
"Doctor?" Martha moved towards him quickly. "What's happened?"
He shook his head, accidentally spattering raindrops everywhere. "Sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Now she was close, Martha could see his eyes were red. "You're half drowned," she said anxiously. "Come on, get back inside, and let's get you out of those sodden clothes, or you'll end up with pneumonia."
She grasped his wrist firmly and led him back into the TARDIS in a determined manner. She had no idea what had happened in the time since she had seen him a few hours earlier, and she was concerned by the non-appearance of Donna, but questions could wait.
"I've no idea where your bedroom is," Martha said, "so you'd better use mine." She guided him down the corridor to the familiar door and led him inside.
"Right then, mister, you'd better go and have a hot shower or bath in my ensuite while I find you some dry clothes. You can't walk around in a sodden shirt and suit."
"Martha, I - " The Doctor put a hand to his face, hiding his eyes, and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, heedless of his wet clothes.
He clung to her and after a moment she realised he was crying; alarmed, she guided him over to her bed and persuaded him to sit down.
"What's happened?" she asked again, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes with one hand, and holding his arm with the other.
"Donna," he whispered. "I had to take her back home. Had to - had to wipe her memories. The meta-crisis was going to kill her."
"Oh god." She hugged him again. "Did you know the meta-crisis might kill her?" she asked.
"Not immediately." He took a deep breath, then a second, before speaking again. "I didn't realise how bad it was until we were dropping off Jackie, Rose and my clone. I could - " A long pause and Martha tightened her grip on his body to reassure him that she was there. "I could feel her mind beginning to break down." He shuddered. "She begged me not do it," he whispered.
"I'm so sorry," she said, feeling that words were wholly inadequate. She held him again, wishing she could do something to help, and wondering if it was more than just Donna's fate that was upsetting him. He'd had Rose around again, after all, and although Martha hadn't questioned his intention to leave Rose and his clone in the other universe, she had wondered about it in the hours since. When she'd seen the Doctor and Rose together on the Crucible, she had just assumed that the two of them would be travelling together again as before.
After several more minutes the Doctor straightened up. "I'm making you wet," he observed.
"I'll live," Martha assured him. "You still need to get changed though."
He nodded and pulled himself up from the bed. "I'll go and have that shower. I'll leave my clothes in the bathroom - the TARDIS will take care of drying them out."
"All right. I'm going to make some tea - I hadn't been home long when you arrived and I'm gasping for a cuppa. Can I make you one?"
His expression brightened almost imperceptibly. "Yes, please."
Martha nodded and headed towards the kitchen, leaving the Doctor to shower in peace. Once in the kitchen she rooted around in the cupboards and fridge and found some pasta, vegetables and chicken, so she set about cooking a meal for them both. She doubted he'd have bothered to eat yet, and she certainly hadn't had time for more than a snatched, slightly stale, sandwich in the UNIT canteen.
Ten minutes later the Doctor wandered in, barefoot and wearing only a bathrobe, and Martha raised an eyebrow at him.
"You must have more than one suit," she observed. "And I know you've got several shirts."
He nodded. "I'll get dressed afterwards. The smell of your cooking made me realise how hungry I am, and I couldn't wait."
She couldn't help smirking just a little at that, and he gave her a tired smile in response. "If you want to lay the table," she said. "This is almost ready to serve."
The Doctor turned and got out plates and cutlery, napkins and glasses, and set two places. Martha served them both generous portions of food, while he poured them both some white wine.
"Wine?" she asked, surprised.
"You don't drink?" he asked.
"I do, sometimes. I just didn't know you did."
"Not often," he answered, sitting beside her.
They ate and the Doctor asked questions about UNIT, and her family, which didn't really surprise Martha: she sensed he wanted to stay off the subject of Donna, at least for now. What did surprise her, however, was how much wine the Doctor drank - if he'd been human, she'd have been worrying about him getting drunk, but she had no idea how much alcohol would affect a Time Lord's physiology.
"Do you want some more?" he asked, indicating the bottle as she got to her feet.
"No, thank you."
"Waste not, want not," he said, sounding quite cheerful as he poured the last of the wine into his glass.
"Is that a good idea?" Martha asked, clearing their plates off the table.
"It's a very good idea." He grinned at her and she smiled back, but she felt concerned all the same.
"Don't bother with the washing up," he told her. "Do it later. I want to show you something."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "What's that?"
"Something," he said, tapping the side of his nose and winking.
Martha shook her head, smiling, and allowed him to lead her from the kitchen and into the TARDIS corridors.
"Are you going to get dressed again at some stage?" she enquired as the Doctor slung his left arm around her shoulders and leaned into her. Perhaps alcohol has exactly the same effect on him as on humans, she thought.
"Martha, don't be a nag," he said solemnly. "Only mothers nag."
"Oi!" She pulled herself away from him and glared, hands on hips.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he whispered loudly. He held out his arms to her. "C'mere."
She stepped close again and he hugged her, then pulled back a little to look down into her eyes. "I do like your eyes," he said, then kissed her.
Martha was too surprised to react at first, but when he dropped one arm to her waist and pressed her body against his, and she remembered that he was wearing almost nothing, she pulled away abruptly.
"Time out!" she gasped. "Okay, Doctor, time you went to bed. You've had nearly a whole bottle of wine, so I'll make allowances for you forgetting that I'm engaged."
"Aw, Martha." He gave her a wounded look, his bottom lip sticking out like a thwarted toddler's.
"Don't 'Aw, Martha' me, mister," she said sternly.
"You didn't mind earlier," he grumbled. "Kissed me, and kissed my clone twice."
"Earlier was different," she said. "It was a group of friends having a bit of fun, and everyone was sober and in full control of their faculties, which you are not."
He gave her a hurt look, then stepped around her and set off down the corridor, and Martha followed.
"I can find my own bedroom," he said over his shoulder.
"Do you want me to go, then?" she asked, coming to halt in the middle of the corridor.
"Yes." He stopped walking. "No," he answered softly. He turned around and gave her a quick look before examining the floor. "I'm sorry."
Martha moved towards him quickly. "It's okay," she said. "You're grieving, and you've had a bit too much to drink." She threaded her arm through his. "C'mon mister, let's get you to bed."
They made their way to the Doctor's room, and she waited outside while he found his pyjamas and put them on.
"I'm decent," he called.
Martha went into his room, stopping just inside the door to stare in amazement at the piles of books and heaps of paperwork scattered around the room. There was a large desk in one corner, with a clutter of gadgets and mechanical bits and pieces heaped on it. The bed in the corner was an ordinary looking double bed, although it was over six foot long to accommodate the Doctor's height.
"Do you actually sleep in here?" she asked, picking her way across the room to where he stood beside the bed.
"Sometimes," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"And do you sleep standing up?" she asked, smiling up at him. He shook his head. "Lie down, then."
He sat down. "I am sorry - " he began.
"Forget it," Martha said, sitting down beside him. "I just didn't want you to do something you'd regret in the morning. Didn't want you hating yourself, or me for that matter."
He frowned. "I couldn't hate you."
"I'm glad to hear it." She put her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "Do you want me to stay with you for a bit?"
"Would you mind?" the Doctor asked.
"Of course not." She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then pushed at his shoulder. "You can lie down."
He moved away, then turned and slid under the dark blue duvet. He patted the bed beside him. "Why don't you sit here?"
She pulled off her boots, then moved up to sit beside him, leaning back against the headboard. They talked quietly for a little while about their travels together, then Martha yawned.
"Oh, sorry about that," she said. "Long day."
"For both of us," he answered.
"I should go and get some sleep too."
"You could sleep here," the Doctor suggested. "I promise that your virtue will be safe."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Can I borrow some pyjamas?" she asked. "All my stuff's in Manhattan."
"Second drawer down," he said, nodding at the small chest of drawers beside the bed.
Martha slid off the bed, took out a pair, and then headed into the bathroom to change. She figured that if the Doctor did forget himself, she could always go and sleep in her flat since the TARDIS was still parked in her hall. However, she somehow felt that he wouldn't try to overstep her boundaries a second time - and she sensed that he was missing Donna more than he was prepared to admit. As she folded up her t-shirt and jeans Martha couldn't help thinking how ironic it was that two years ago she would have been overjoyed to be invited to share a bed with the Doctor. She shook her head, then went back into the bedroom, leaving her clothes on the chair next to the desk.
The Doctor gave a slight smile at the sight of Martha as she'd had to turn up the sleeves and legs of the pyjamas since they were far too long for her, and she grinned back, knowing she looked rather ridiculous.
She slid under the duvet next to him. "Goodnight Doctor."
"Goodnight Dr Jones," he answered, sounding happier than he had since he'd arrived.
A few minutes later he was asleep, and Martha lay watching him for a little while, noticing how much younger he looked now, as well as more relaxed.
"Sleep well," she whispered, feeling her own eyelids growing heavier.
The TARDIS dimmed the lights as Martha fell asleep.
Title: Friends
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Ten
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Journey's End
Summary: After taking Donna home, the Doctor visits his doctor.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: A few people asked if there was going to be a sequel to Kisses - which I had anticipated being asked so here it is. Sadly, it's not as fluffy as 'Kisses' - rather more angsty in fact, as I didn't choose to go AU on 'Journey's End'.
Beta: the kindly fourzoas
~~~~~~
After bidding farewell to Jack and Mickey, Martha headed through town to see her mother in order to assure Francine that she was still alive and well. Then she took herself off to UNIT's London HQ to organise her return to New York as she knew she would need to sort out whatever was left of Project Indigo (which included going back to Germany to collect the backpack itself unless she could delegate that task to someone reliable).
By the time she returned to her flat it was raining heavily - a result of the atmospheric disturbances caused by the shifting of the Earth, according to one of her colleagues who had a meteorological bent - and she was just unlocking the door when she realised that she had no food in the house, and very few clothes since everything was in her Manhattan flat still.
"Damn and blast," she muttered, stepping inside. She'd have to ring for a take-away.
She scooped up the post that her mother hadn't yet had a chance to send on (although most of it appeared to be junk mail) and was just carrying it through to the kitchen when a freak whirlwind started up in the hall. Martha quickly dumped the mail on the table and hurried back into the hall just as the TARDIS solidified.
The door creaked open and a thoroughly rain-sodden Time Lord stepped out, an unhappy expression on his face.
"Doctor?" Martha moved towards him quickly. "What's happened?"
He shook his head, accidentally spattering raindrops everywhere. "Sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Now she was close, Martha could see his eyes were red. "You're half drowned," she said anxiously. "Come on, get back inside, and let's get you out of those sodden clothes, or you'll end up with pneumonia."
She grasped his wrist firmly and led him back into the TARDIS in a determined manner. She had no idea what had happened in the time since she had seen him a few hours earlier, and she was concerned by the non-appearance of Donna, but questions could wait.
"I've no idea where your bedroom is," Martha said, "so you'd better use mine." She guided him down the corridor to the familiar door and led him inside.
"Right then, mister, you'd better go and have a hot shower or bath in my ensuite while I find you some dry clothes. You can't walk around in a sodden shirt and suit."
"Martha, I - " The Doctor put a hand to his face, hiding his eyes, and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, heedless of his wet clothes.
He clung to her and after a moment she realised he was crying; alarmed, she guided him over to her bed and persuaded him to sit down.
"What's happened?" she asked again, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes with one hand, and holding his arm with the other.
"Donna," he whispered. "I had to take her back home. Had to - had to wipe her memories. The meta-crisis was going to kill her."
"Oh god." She hugged him again. "Did you know the meta-crisis might kill her?" she asked.
"Not immediately." He took a deep breath, then a second, before speaking again. "I didn't realise how bad it was until we were dropping off Jackie, Rose and my clone. I could - " A long pause and Martha tightened her grip on his body to reassure him that she was there. "I could feel her mind beginning to break down." He shuddered. "She begged me not do it," he whispered.
"I'm so sorry," she said, feeling that words were wholly inadequate. She held him again, wishing she could do something to help, and wondering if it was more than just Donna's fate that was upsetting him. He'd had Rose around again, after all, and although Martha hadn't questioned his intention to leave Rose and his clone in the other universe, she had wondered about it in the hours since. When she'd seen the Doctor and Rose together on the Crucible, she had just assumed that the two of them would be travelling together again as before.
After several more minutes the Doctor straightened up. "I'm making you wet," he observed.
"I'll live," Martha assured him. "You still need to get changed though."
He nodded and pulled himself up from the bed. "I'll go and have that shower. I'll leave my clothes in the bathroom - the TARDIS will take care of drying them out."
"All right. I'm going to make some tea - I hadn't been home long when you arrived and I'm gasping for a cuppa. Can I make you one?"
His expression brightened almost imperceptibly. "Yes, please."
Martha nodded and headed towards the kitchen, leaving the Doctor to shower in peace. Once in the kitchen she rooted around in the cupboards and fridge and found some pasta, vegetables and chicken, so she set about cooking a meal for them both. She doubted he'd have bothered to eat yet, and she certainly hadn't had time for more than a snatched, slightly stale, sandwich in the UNIT canteen.
Ten minutes later the Doctor wandered in, barefoot and wearing only a bathrobe, and Martha raised an eyebrow at him.
"You must have more than one suit," she observed. "And I know you've got several shirts."
He nodded. "I'll get dressed afterwards. The smell of your cooking made me realise how hungry I am, and I couldn't wait."
She couldn't help smirking just a little at that, and he gave her a tired smile in response. "If you want to lay the table," she said. "This is almost ready to serve."
The Doctor turned and got out plates and cutlery, napkins and glasses, and set two places. Martha served them both generous portions of food, while he poured them both some white wine.
"Wine?" she asked, surprised.
"You don't drink?" he asked.
"I do, sometimes. I just didn't know you did."
"Not often," he answered, sitting beside her.
They ate and the Doctor asked questions about UNIT, and her family, which didn't really surprise Martha: she sensed he wanted to stay off the subject of Donna, at least for now. What did surprise her, however, was how much wine the Doctor drank - if he'd been human, she'd have been worrying about him getting drunk, but she had no idea how much alcohol would affect a Time Lord's physiology.
"Do you want some more?" he asked, indicating the bottle as she got to her feet.
"No, thank you."
"Waste not, want not," he said, sounding quite cheerful as he poured the last of the wine into his glass.
"Is that a good idea?" Martha asked, clearing their plates off the table.
"It's a very good idea." He grinned at her and she smiled back, but she felt concerned all the same.
"Don't bother with the washing up," he told her. "Do it later. I want to show you something."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "What's that?"
"Something," he said, tapping the side of his nose and winking.
Martha shook her head, smiling, and allowed him to lead her from the kitchen and into the TARDIS corridors.
"Are you going to get dressed again at some stage?" she enquired as the Doctor slung his left arm around her shoulders and leaned into her. Perhaps alcohol has exactly the same effect on him as on humans, she thought.
"Martha, don't be a nag," he said solemnly. "Only mothers nag."
"Oi!" She pulled herself away from him and glared, hands on hips.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he whispered loudly. He held out his arms to her. "C'mere."
She stepped close again and he hugged her, then pulled back a little to look down into her eyes. "I do like your eyes," he said, then kissed her.
Martha was too surprised to react at first, but when he dropped one arm to her waist and pressed her body against his, and she remembered that he was wearing almost nothing, she pulled away abruptly.
"Time out!" she gasped. "Okay, Doctor, time you went to bed. You've had nearly a whole bottle of wine, so I'll make allowances for you forgetting that I'm engaged."
"Aw, Martha." He gave her a wounded look, his bottom lip sticking out like a thwarted toddler's.
"Don't 'Aw, Martha' me, mister," she said sternly.
"You didn't mind earlier," he grumbled. "Kissed me, and kissed my clone twice."
"Earlier was different," she said. "It was a group of friends having a bit of fun, and everyone was sober and in full control of their faculties, which you are not."
He gave her a hurt look, then stepped around her and set off down the corridor, and Martha followed.
"I can find my own bedroom," he said over his shoulder.
"Do you want me to go, then?" she asked, coming to halt in the middle of the corridor.
"Yes." He stopped walking. "No," he answered softly. He turned around and gave her a quick look before examining the floor. "I'm sorry."
Martha moved towards him quickly. "It's okay," she said. "You're grieving, and you've had a bit too much to drink." She threaded her arm through his. "C'mon mister, let's get you to bed."
They made their way to the Doctor's room, and she waited outside while he found his pyjamas and put them on.
"I'm decent," he called.
Martha went into his room, stopping just inside the door to stare in amazement at the piles of books and heaps of paperwork scattered around the room. There was a large desk in one corner, with a clutter of gadgets and mechanical bits and pieces heaped on it. The bed in the corner was an ordinary looking double bed, although it was over six foot long to accommodate the Doctor's height.
"Do you actually sleep in here?" she asked, picking her way across the room to where he stood beside the bed.
"Sometimes," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"And do you sleep standing up?" she asked, smiling up at him. He shook his head. "Lie down, then."
He sat down. "I am sorry - " he began.
"Forget it," Martha said, sitting down beside him. "I just didn't want you to do something you'd regret in the morning. Didn't want you hating yourself, or me for that matter."
He frowned. "I couldn't hate you."
"I'm glad to hear it." She put her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "Do you want me to stay with you for a bit?"
"Would you mind?" the Doctor asked.
"Of course not." She leaned in and kissed his cheek, then pushed at his shoulder. "You can lie down."
He moved away, then turned and slid under the dark blue duvet. He patted the bed beside him. "Why don't you sit here?"
She pulled off her boots, then moved up to sit beside him, leaning back against the headboard. They talked quietly for a little while about their travels together, then Martha yawned.
"Oh, sorry about that," she said. "Long day."
"For both of us," he answered.
"I should go and get some sleep too."
"You could sleep here," the Doctor suggested. "I promise that your virtue will be safe."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Can I borrow some pyjamas?" she asked. "All my stuff's in Manhattan."
"Second drawer down," he said, nodding at the small chest of drawers beside the bed.
Martha slid off the bed, took out a pair, and then headed into the bathroom to change. She figured that if the Doctor did forget himself, she could always go and sleep in her flat since the TARDIS was still parked in her hall. However, she somehow felt that he wouldn't try to overstep her boundaries a second time - and she sensed that he was missing Donna more than he was prepared to admit. As she folded up her t-shirt and jeans Martha couldn't help thinking how ironic it was that two years ago she would have been overjoyed to be invited to share a bed with the Doctor. She shook her head, then went back into the bedroom, leaving her clothes on the chair next to the desk.
The Doctor gave a slight smile at the sight of Martha as she'd had to turn up the sleeves and legs of the pyjamas since they were far too long for her, and she grinned back, knowing she looked rather ridiculous.
She slid under the duvet next to him. "Goodnight Doctor."
"Goodnight Dr Jones," he answered, sounding happier than he had since he'd arrived.
A few minutes later he was asleep, and Martha lay watching him for a little while, noticing how much younger he looked now, as well as more relaxed.
"Sleep well," she whispered, feeling her own eyelids growing heavier.
The TARDIS dimmed the lights as Martha fell asleep.