Vitalis Metuo (2/2)
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/323364.html">Vitalis Metuo by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha/Jack, New TW team, Eleven, Amy, Tom Milligan | Rating: NC-17 | Spoilers: TW:S2, CoE; DW: S3, S4)
Title: Vitalis Metuo
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Jack, new Torchwood team, Eleven, Amy, Tom Milligan
Rating: NC-17 (for violence, language and sex)
Spoilers: TW:S2, CoE; DW: S3, S4
Summary: What should have been a routine round up of a nest of Weevils has startling consequences for Martha Jones.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: Rampageous plot bunnies are a curse, especially when they take over your brain - in this case I re-read some Martha/Jack ficlets that I wrote a couple of years ago , and a wascally wabbit attacked me!
Betas: the wonderful catholicphoton and abstruse_fangrl
~~~~~~
Part One
* * * * * *
Six months later
Tom was home on leave and since Martha's birthday was the following week, after he would have gone back to Africa again, they had gone out for a meal together.
"You know, I don't see why you can't come and see me next time I've got some leave," he said as they finished their desserts.
Martha gave him a surprised look. "When is your next leave?" she asked.
"Late September."
"I'll have to see if I can get the time off," she said.
"I thought you were Jack's second in command?" Tom asked, frowning.
Martha raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled. "I am."
"Well then, don't ask him, tell him that you want three weeks off from September 21st, and come out to see me."
She wondered if she was imagining the look of challenge in his eyes. "It doesn't work like that," she said quietly. "I've told you, Torchwood's not like UNIT. We're only a small team - "
"It doesn't make any difference," Tom said sharply, cutting her off mid-explanation. "You're entitled to time off, just like any other employee, and you should be able to take that leave when it's convenient to you, not your boss."
"What's this really about?" asked Martha perceptively.
"It's about you doing what I asked," Tom answered, scowling.
"I've explained why I may not be able to do as you asked," she said mildly. "But I'll talk to Jack tomorrow and see what we can work out."
"Please yourself." He pushed his chair back violently, making the metal legs scrape unpleasantly across the restaurant floor, then got to his feet. "Get the bill, will you?" He turned and headed towards the gents.
Martha felt stunned, as if he'd slapped her. She had known Tom had been surprised and somewhat dismayed when she'd chosen to go and work for Torchwood instead of UNIT, but she'd assumed he'd got used to the idea after eighteen months. Now she realised he hadn't, and she couldn't escape the feeling that he was jealous of her close relationship with Jack; she was sure that she and the Captain would always be close because of their shared experiences with the Doctor, but she had always been careful never to let Jack step beyond flirting, and he'd always respected that.
The waiter approached, and Martha requested the bill for their meal with a sour taste in her mouth. Why couldn't he have waited until tomorrow to bring this up? she wondered crossly. Why spoil our - my - evening like that? He was leaving again tomorrow, but not until late afternoon so there was time for them to have this conversation then.
The waiter returned with the bill at the same time that Tom returned to their table, and she watched as he got out his wallet, wondering if she was imagining the reluctance with which he placed his credit card in the chip-and-pin machine.
A few minutes later they were outside, the cold wind from the Bay biting into their exposed skin. Martha noted that Tom didn't offer her his hand as usual, nor did he put his arm around her shoulders, and she wrapped her own arms around herself, hugging herself for warmth as she wondered if they were going to have a row.
They walked in silence across the plaza and she was just wondering whether to take Tom's hand anyway in an attempt to breach the wall that seemed to be building between them, when a cry of fear broke the relative silence.
"What the hell?" exclaimed Tom, turning in the direction of the Bay again.
Martha was already running towards the waterfront, instincts and training kicking in automatically. Once she was close enough to see the bulky shape in the shadows she swore under her breath, then pulled her mobile phone from her jacket pocket and hit the speed dial button.
"Jack? We've got a Weevil loose in the Bay and someone's down."
"We'll be there," Jack answered immediately.
She pocketed her phone again, then cautiously moved closer, aware that she had no back-up and no stun gun, but unwilling to put off checking whether the young man who lay a few feet away was still alive or already dead.
"Martha?" called Tom, from some distance away. He couldn't see her in the darkness of the waterfront.
"Tom, stay there," she shouted, hoping he would do as she asked. She was fishing in her bag for the anti-Weevil spray that she, like the rest of the team, always carried on her person.
Her questing fingers closed around the familiar spray device and pulling it out, she fired it into the Weevil's face. It growled angrily and backed off far enough that Martha was able to reach the young man's side; she knelt down, feeling for a pulse and finding a very thready one in his neck. She pulled her phone from her pocket again, intending to ring for an ambulance, but a movement behind her caught her attention and she looked up to find the Weevil looming over her.
"Damn!" She pulled the anti-Weevil spray back out of her bag, but before she could use it, the creature attacked, slashing its claws down her back.
Martha cried out in agony as the Weevil pulled her backwards so that she landed on her lacerated back, then she yelled in fear as it bent its head, fangs bared, towards her neck. She moved her left arm up just in time to stop it from biting her neck, which meant the fangs simply found a new target in her arm.
Martha screamed just as Jack and Johnson came pounding into view, passing a stunned Tom, who was watching in disbelief as the Weevil attacked his wife.
Both Torchwood employees fired at the same time, blasting the Weevil backwards across the street. Jack hurried to Martha's side, and found her unconscious, blood pouring from the wounds in her arm, which had been ripped open down to the bone by the force of the Weevil being thrown clear of her body as it was shot.
Tom stumbled across to join them, looking down in horror at the tattered remains of Martha's sleeves, and the rags of skin hanging from her arm.
"Christ almighty!" he exclaimed, pulling his coat off. "Why the hell aren't you helping her?" he demanded of Jack, starting to pull off his suit jacket as well, trying to get at his shirt for a makeshift bandage.
"No need, Tommy," answered Jack, calmly.
"What do you mean, no need?" yelled Tom. "Look at her arm! She could bleed to death!"
"You look," Jack answered, grasping the other man's hands to stop him tearing off his shirt, then nodding down at the fallen medic.
A strange yellow glow was covering Martha's arm, swirling and pulsing above her skin. Tom watched in disbelief as the glow intensified, then faded, leaving him blinking at its brightness, then staring in amazement at Martha's arm.
"What?" he gasped, not quite believing his eyes: his wife's arm looked as good as new beneath the torn and tattered coat and shirt sleeves. "What the hell just happened?"
Jack gave him a triumphant sort of smile. "Good, isn't it?" he chuckled.
" What the hell just happened? What have you done to my wife?" demanded Tom angrily.
"Relax Tommy," the Captain said soothingly. "I haven't done anything to Martha, it's a side effect of her travels with the Doctor." He bent and brushed her hair out of her face, his left hand holding Martha's left as she opened her eyes and looked up at Jack.
"Hey," he said gently. "Okay?"
She groaned. "God, that hurt like hell," she answered, trying to push herself upright.
"Steady sweetheart," Jack said softly, as he slid his right arm under her shoulders and helped her to sit up.
"Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" demanded Tom, his fists clenched and his expression furious.
Martha gave him a startled look, surprised by the violence of his language. "It's okay, Tom," she said gently. "I'm okay."
"I can see that!" he answered bitingly. "What I want to know is how it's possible for you to do that?"
"It's a long story." She allowed Jack to help her up to her feet. "Can you check my back?" she asked the Captain. "It got me there first."
He turned her towards the light and both men could see long tears in her coat and her shirt where the Weevil had raked its claws down her back. Jack eased her coat off, holding it between his knees, then lifted up the hem of Martha's shirt to inspect her back.
"It's healed as well," he assured her, helping her back into her coat.
"Thanks."
She turned and saw that Tom looked ready to thump Jack. "Tom, just relax, okay? We'll go back to the Hub and I'll explain, but calm down before you burst a blood vessel or something."
"Calm down? How the hell do you expect me to calm down when your boss is manhandling my wife as if I'm not even here, and you won't tell me what the fuck is going on?"
"Tom, that's enough!" Martha snapped, angry at the way he was implying that Jack had done something wrong.
"Don't talk to me like that," he snarled, starting forward furiously.
"That's enough, Tommy boy," Jack said, grabbing the other man's arm and pulling him aside from Martha.
"Don't call me Tommy, it's not my fucking name!"
The two men struggled, then there was a sound of a shot and Tom collapsed in Jack's arms. Martha turned, startled, and saw Johnson holstering a gun.
"What did you do that for?" Martha demanded, appalled.
"Relax, Dr Jones," Johnson said calmly. "I used the tranq gun."
Martha scowled at the other woman, then turned back to the young man who'd first been injured by the Weevil. "Hell! He's dead!"
"It's not your fault, Martha," Jack said softly. "You were attacked too."
"We'd better get rid of that thing," she said, nodding to the corpse of the Weevil. "And get Tom back to the Hub. Did you bring a jeep with you?"
"Yeah, it's parked down there." Jack gestured towards it, then he lifted Tom up, hoisting him over his shoulder. "What do you want to do about the victim?" he asked.
"I'll ring 999," she answered, "and report it anonymously."
"All right." Jack strode off, appearing to carry Tom easily.
Martha pulled out her mobile and began to dial, then looked up when Johnson, dragging the Weevil's corpse, paused beside her.
"Sorry I shot your husband," she said, "but it was the only way I could see to stop the situation turning into an all-out brawl."
Martha gave a curt nod before putting the phone to her ear.
They were back at the Hub within ten minutes; Johnson had gone to dispose of the Weevil corpse, while Jack was with Martha in the Medical Bay, waiting for Tom to wake up.
"I've never seen him so angry," Jack said quietly.
"Nor I," she answered.
"He seemed to think that you and I have been shagging behind his back," the Captain observed. "I'm sorry if I've given him that impression."
"It's not your fault," Martha said. "I've made it clear, time and again, that we're just close friends, but he never seems to believe me. It seems to me that he doesn't trust me - and given that I've never done anything to make him think I've been anything less than faithful, I have to wonder how much longer we can go on as we are."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Jack slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.
"Don't be," she answered. "It's not your fault my husband doesn't understand that I'd never deliberately do anything to hurt him. I knew he was unhappy about me moving to Torchwood from UNIT, but I thought he'd get used to the idea and support me, just as I've always supported him with regard to his career choices."
Tom gave a quiet groan and began to stir.
"You'd better go, for now," Martha told Jack. "If he sees you here with me he might get mad before I get a chance to explain."
"If you're sure?" The Captain looked doubtful, but when she nodded, he retreated. He knew he could use the Hub's internal security cameras to keep an eye on the Medical Bay, just in case.
Martha fetched a glass of water, then sat down on a stool beside Tom's bed.
"Oh God!" Tom clutched his head as struggled to sit up.
"Here." She held the glass out to him, knowing he'd be slightly dehydrated from the tranquilliser.
"What the hell happened?" he asked, taking the glass. His hand was shaking badly, but she made no effort to help him to hold it.
"Johnson used the tranq gun on you," Martha explained. "You were carrying on like an idiot." He gave her a sharp look and she raised her eyebrows at him. "You were. You wouldn't calm down or listen to what I was trying to tell you, and you were fighting with Jack."
He glared. "What did you expect me to do?" he demanded angrily. "You were badly injured by that monstrous creature, and then suddenly you were glowing gold and all your wounds were healed. How did you think I'd react? That's not normal human behaviour."
"I realise you were scared and upset," she said quietly. "But that was no excuse to accuse Jack of treating me as anything other than his colleague. I don't know why you won't believe me when I tell you that nothing's ever happened between me and Jack. He respects me too much to behave dishonourably towards me."
"I've seen the way he looks at you, and the way he touches you," Tom said.
Martha folded her arms over her chest. "Jack flirts with everyone," she said calmly, "as I've told you before several times."
"Yeah, but he doesn't look at other people as if he worships the ground they walk on."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, wondering if that was true - she hadn't seen it herself. "That still doesn't mean Jack and I are anything but close friends," Martha answered. "I've explained to you some of the things we went through after Jack and I met, and yet you still can't accept that as the basis for our close friendship." She sighed. "As for my wounds being healed, that's an accidental side effect of my travels with the Doctor, something that neither of us had foreseen because it was the consequence of an odd series of events."
"Oh really?" he sneered. "So, what, it's just a coincidence that you can heal yourself, even when your arm is ripped open down to the bone?"
"Yes, it is. I didn't even know I had limited regenerative abilities until a few months ago. The Doctor helped me to work out things out after I got injured in another Weevil attack, and my wounds healed up without leaving a trace."
"What?" he asked, jerking the glass in his surprise, and splashing water onto himself. "You never told me about that!"
She shrugged. "There didn't seem much point," she answered. "I almost died, but Jack gave me CPR, and then my wounds healed up."
"Christ almighty, Martha! How could you not see the point in telling me you almost died?"
"Tom, I've almost died loads of times, doing this job and when I was working for UNIT - what's the point of telling you after the event, when I've survived?"
He shook his head. "I think you'd better come with me when I go back tomorrow," he said. "At least if you're with me, I'll know what the hell's happening to you."
"I'm not going to Africa with you," Martha said. "I've got a job here. A job that I enjoy and that offers me the chance to do valuable work."
"Are you saying my work's not valuable?" he demanded.
"Of course not. I'm just telling you that I consider my work valuable too, and I'm not going to give it up on your whim."
"My whim? It's not a whim. I don't want my wife working for an organisation that lets her run insane risks."
"Just because I'm your wife, it doesn't give you the right to order me around," Martha said, feeling her anger rising. "I'm not an object that you own, I'm a person with free will and I choose to work for Torchwood."
"We'll see about that." Tom quickly got off the bed, then grabbed Martha's wrist and start moving towards the door.
Out in the Hub's main area, Jack saw what was happening and swore, then grabbed the tranq gun, intending to give Tom Milligan a further dose. By the time he reached the Medical Bay, however, it was too late: Tom was lying face down on the floor, and Martha had her knee in the small of his back, and his right arm twisted behind his back.
"You. Do. Not. Tell. Me. What. To. Do," she said, biting the words off one by one. "I'm your wife, not your slave. I choose to work at Torchwood, and if you cannot accept that, then you'd better file for a divorce. No man pushes me around, do you hear?"
He grunted, trying to free himself, but Martha had him pinned down too firmly. "Do you understand me?" she asked, twisting his arm a little further and causing him to yelp in pain.
"Yes!" he gasped.
"Good." She quickly moved away. "Get up, go home and get your things, and then get out," she said, sparks flashing in her dark eyes. "If you're not gone by the time I get home in an hour, I'm going to call the police, so don't think of messing around."
Tom peeled himself up off the floor, wincing at the dull ache in his shoulder. Johnson appeared in the doorway, standing just behind Jack, who'd been watching in awe as his diminutive friend dealt with her husband.
"It's okay, Jack, Tom's just going," Martha said.
He stumbled out, and Johnson followed him, making sure that he did leave the premises. Jack, meanwhile, crossed the Medical Bay to wrap Martha in a hug.
"You okay?" he asked softly as she clung to him.
"No," she answered, choking down a sob.
"Oh sweetheart. Come on." He scooped her up and carried her through into the main room, setting her back on her feet beside her workstation. "Do you want to go and have a nap?" he asked.
She nodded, and he put an arm around her shoulders and led her towards the stairs down to the rest area. Johnson came back and she mouthed "Stay with her" at him, then pointed towards the Rift monitor, and Jack nodded gratefully.
Martha slumped down onto the bed, then lifted her foot to take off her shoes.
"Let me," Jack said, kneeling on the floor. He eased her feet out of the high heels she was wearing to match her outfit, then lifted her feet and swung her legs round onto the bed. "Lie down and get some rest."
"Stay with me?" she asked, her voice hoarse as she choked back her tears.
Jack quickly pulled off his boots, then lay down beside her, before pulling her close. "Come on, sweetheart, let it all out."
He rubbed her back as he held her, feeling relieved when she began to sob. He guessed that her encounter with the Weevil earlier, as well as her fight with Tom, had combined to reduce her to this state since Martha Jones was usually so strong.
After a while her sobs subsided, and then she fell asleep, wrapped in Jack's embrace. He couldn't help feeling the irony of his situation: Tom had accused him of shagging Martha, and here he was, finally sharing a bed with her for the first time, but she was fast asleep.
* * * * * *
A week later
The Terra Nova was busy, but not crowded, as the assembled Torchwood team celebrated Martha's birthday. They'd left the Hub empty for once, although Gwen had a specially adapted PDA, one of Tosh's creations, in her pocket which was set up to alert them if anything significant happened involving the Rift.
Jack had insisted that they all eat out to celebrate Martha's birthday; he'd wanted to cheer her up after her less-than-successful evening out with Tom the previous week, which had culminated in a letter from a local divorce lawyer. Since then Martha had thrown herself into her work as if her life depended on it, and he'd worried that she was going to make herself ill if she carried on in the same way, so he'd booked a table for dinner at The Terra Nova for the whole team.
"And now a toast to the birthday girl," Gwen said, as the staff took away their empty dessert dishes.
They all got to their feet, raising their glasses to Martha.
"To Dr Martha Jones, may she live to heal us for a very long time."
"Gwen!" protested Rhys.
"What?" asked Gwen, puzzled.
"That's a workaholic's toast, if ever I heard one," he said. He looked down at Martha who was watching her friends with an amused smile. "Happy birthday, love, may you live to be a hundred at least."
Jack and Lois started laughing at Gwen's bemused expression, then they all said loudly "To Martha!" before seating themselves again.
"You're all completely mad," the young medic informed them.
"But you love us anyway," Jack said confidently.
"God help me, I do," she agreed.
They finished their drinks, then began gathering themselves together. Johnson and Lois were going back to the Hub, while Gwen and Rhys were heading home.
"I'll walk you home," Jack said, helping Martha into her red leather jacket.
"Thanks."
She'd made plans to move out of the large flat that she and Tom had been renting, but so far, she was still looking for a smaller one that suited her in size and location.
"Do you want to come in for a coffee?" she asked as they reached the steps that led up to Martha's front door.
"Sure," Jack agreed easily.
Martha let them in, then led the way to the kitchen where she got out the makings of coffee.
"Did you have a good birthday?" he asked, lounging against the breakfast bar as he watched her.
"Yes, thank you. I appreciate you organising that for me. I don't think I'd have bothered otherwise."
He moved across the kitchen and put his arms around her. "You deserved to celebrate properly," he said.
She turned in his arms, then stretched up onto tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then his lips.
"Mmm." Jack hummed his approval, and then gasped when she slid a hand down his side and between their bodies to cup him through his trousers.
"I want you, Jack Harkness," Martha said, her voice low and husky.
He looked down into her dark eyes, seeing desire there. "I was going to ask if you were sure," he said quietly. "But I'm going to assume you are."
"Good." She pulled away, then grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom. "Sit down," she said, pushing his chest.
He obeyed, then watched, mesmerised, as she undressed herself.
"I always knew you didn't wear a bra," he observed when Martha lifted the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up over her head to reveal her bare breasts.
She smirked at him. "And I'm betting you don't wear underwear."
"Touché." He grinned.
Moments later they were both naked and lying on their sides on the bed, facing each other.
"I've wanted to do this since the first time you kissed me, out at the end of the universe," Jack said, stroking a finger down her cheek.
"I didn't kiss you, that was CPR!" she protested, but he could see the mirth in her eyes.
"Whatever," he answered, smirking. "Now, let me kiss you properly, Dr Jones."
"As you wish, Captain Harkness." She allowed him to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer, then succumbed to his lips with a murmur of pleasure.
She could feel his arousal growing, the erection pressing against her leg became bigger and harder as they kissed, and she felt herself growing slick with desire.
"Please Jack!" she gasped, eventually.
"Please what?" he asked, moving his mouth from hers to kiss each of her breasts in turn.
"I want you inside me."
He lifted his head as she shifted against him, rubbing her body against his. "You only had to ask," he said, smirking. He rolled her onto her back, then spread her legs before putting on a condom and sliding inside her.
Martha moaned with pleasure as he penetrated her deeply, then gasped breathlessly as he began to move. She wasn't surprised when her first orgasm hit her after only a few minutes, nor when he brought her to a second climax soon after that. She stroked a hand up and down his spine, then squeezed his buttocks.
"Come for me, Jack," she said softly. "I want you to come for me."
He moaned deeply, continuing to move, then she pushed a finger inside him, and he gave a wordless cry as his orgasm hit him.
"Sneaky," he gasped, once he'd caught his breath.
She smirked up at him. "It seemed the obvious thing to do," she answered.
"Which doesn't mean it's not sneaky."
Martha chuckled, and he ducked his head to kiss her languidly.
"Thank you," she said softly when he pulled away to catch his breath again.
"No, thank you," he answered. "I'm delighted that you wanted to share that with me."
"Mmm." Martha's murmur was sleepy, and Jack lifted his head to look at her.
"Dr Jones, are you going to sleep on me?"
She opened her eyes. "Just a little nap," she mumbled.
He laughed softly. "All right then. But I warn you, I intend to wake you up again in a bit."
"'kay," she agreed.
Jack slid his arm underneath her body, then rolled them over, before pulling the duvet over them both.
"Happy birthday, Dr Jones," he whispered, kissing her cheek. He lay smiling in the darkness, thinking about this brilliant young woman whom he'd loved from the minute he'd met her, and decided he was looking forward to spending more time with her.
A few minutes later, Jack was asleep too.
Title: Vitalis Metuo
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Jack, new Torchwood team, Eleven, Amy, Tom Milligan
Rating: NC-17 (for violence, language and sex)
Spoilers: TW:S2, CoE; DW: S3, S4
Summary: What should have been a routine round up of a nest of Weevils has startling consequences for Martha Jones.
Disclaimer: I occasionally wish that I did own it!
Author Notes: Rampageous plot bunnies are a curse, especially when they take over your brain - in this case I re-read some Martha/Jack ficlets that I wrote a couple of years ago , and a wascally wabbit attacked me!
Betas: the wonderful catholicphoton and abstruse_fangrl
~~~~~~
Part One
* * * * * *
Six months later
Tom was home on leave and since Martha's birthday was the following week, after he would have gone back to Africa again, they had gone out for a meal together.
"You know, I don't see why you can't come and see me next time I've got some leave," he said as they finished their desserts.
Martha gave him a surprised look. "When is your next leave?" she asked.
"Late September."
"I'll have to see if I can get the time off," she said.
"I thought you were Jack's second in command?" Tom asked, frowning.
Martha raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled. "I am."
"Well then, don't ask him, tell him that you want three weeks off from September 21st, and come out to see me."
She wondered if she was imagining the look of challenge in his eyes. "It doesn't work like that," she said quietly. "I've told you, Torchwood's not like UNIT. We're only a small team - "
"It doesn't make any difference," Tom said sharply, cutting her off mid-explanation. "You're entitled to time off, just like any other employee, and you should be able to take that leave when it's convenient to you, not your boss."
"What's this really about?" asked Martha perceptively.
"It's about you doing what I asked," Tom answered, scowling.
"I've explained why I may not be able to do as you asked," she said mildly. "But I'll talk to Jack tomorrow and see what we can work out."
"Please yourself." He pushed his chair back violently, making the metal legs scrape unpleasantly across the restaurant floor, then got to his feet. "Get the bill, will you?" He turned and headed towards the gents.
Martha felt stunned, as if he'd slapped her. She had known Tom had been surprised and somewhat dismayed when she'd chosen to go and work for Torchwood instead of UNIT, but she'd assumed he'd got used to the idea after eighteen months. Now she realised he hadn't, and she couldn't escape the feeling that he was jealous of her close relationship with Jack; she was sure that she and the Captain would always be close because of their shared experiences with the Doctor, but she had always been careful never to let Jack step beyond flirting, and he'd always respected that.
The waiter approached, and Martha requested the bill for their meal with a sour taste in her mouth. Why couldn't he have waited until tomorrow to bring this up? she wondered crossly. Why spoil our - my - evening like that? He was leaving again tomorrow, but not until late afternoon so there was time for them to have this conversation then.
The waiter returned with the bill at the same time that Tom returned to their table, and she watched as he got out his wallet, wondering if she was imagining the reluctance with which he placed his credit card in the chip-and-pin machine.
A few minutes later they were outside, the cold wind from the Bay biting into their exposed skin. Martha noted that Tom didn't offer her his hand as usual, nor did he put his arm around her shoulders, and she wrapped her own arms around herself, hugging herself for warmth as she wondered if they were going to have a row.
They walked in silence across the plaza and she was just wondering whether to take Tom's hand anyway in an attempt to breach the wall that seemed to be building between them, when a cry of fear broke the relative silence.
"What the hell?" exclaimed Tom, turning in the direction of the Bay again.
Martha was already running towards the waterfront, instincts and training kicking in automatically. Once she was close enough to see the bulky shape in the shadows she swore under her breath, then pulled her mobile phone from her jacket pocket and hit the speed dial button.
"Jack? We've got a Weevil loose in the Bay and someone's down."
"We'll be there," Jack answered immediately.
She pocketed her phone again, then cautiously moved closer, aware that she had no back-up and no stun gun, but unwilling to put off checking whether the young man who lay a few feet away was still alive or already dead.
"Martha?" called Tom, from some distance away. He couldn't see her in the darkness of the waterfront.
"Tom, stay there," she shouted, hoping he would do as she asked. She was fishing in her bag for the anti-Weevil spray that she, like the rest of the team, always carried on her person.
Her questing fingers closed around the familiar spray device and pulling it out, she fired it into the Weevil's face. It growled angrily and backed off far enough that Martha was able to reach the young man's side; she knelt down, feeling for a pulse and finding a very thready one in his neck. She pulled her phone from her pocket again, intending to ring for an ambulance, but a movement behind her caught her attention and she looked up to find the Weevil looming over her.
"Damn!" She pulled the anti-Weevil spray back out of her bag, but before she could use it, the creature attacked, slashing its claws down her back.
Martha cried out in agony as the Weevil pulled her backwards so that she landed on her lacerated back, then she yelled in fear as it bent its head, fangs bared, towards her neck. She moved her left arm up just in time to stop it from biting her neck, which meant the fangs simply found a new target in her arm.
Martha screamed just as Jack and Johnson came pounding into view, passing a stunned Tom, who was watching in disbelief as the Weevil attacked his wife.
Both Torchwood employees fired at the same time, blasting the Weevil backwards across the street. Jack hurried to Martha's side, and found her unconscious, blood pouring from the wounds in her arm, which had been ripped open down to the bone by the force of the Weevil being thrown clear of her body as it was shot.
Tom stumbled across to join them, looking down in horror at the tattered remains of Martha's sleeves, and the rags of skin hanging from her arm.
"Christ almighty!" he exclaimed, pulling his coat off. "Why the hell aren't you helping her?" he demanded of Jack, starting to pull off his suit jacket as well, trying to get at his shirt for a makeshift bandage.
"No need, Tommy," answered Jack, calmly.
"What do you mean, no need?" yelled Tom. "Look at her arm! She could bleed to death!"
"You look," Jack answered, grasping the other man's hands to stop him tearing off his shirt, then nodding down at the fallen medic.
A strange yellow glow was covering Martha's arm, swirling and pulsing above her skin. Tom watched in disbelief as the glow intensified, then faded, leaving him blinking at its brightness, then staring in amazement at Martha's arm.
"What?" he gasped, not quite believing his eyes: his wife's arm looked as good as new beneath the torn and tattered coat and shirt sleeves. "What the hell just happened?"
Jack gave him a triumphant sort of smile. "Good, isn't it?" he chuckled.
" What the hell just happened? What have you done to my wife?" demanded Tom angrily.
"Relax Tommy," the Captain said soothingly. "I haven't done anything to Martha, it's a side effect of her travels with the Doctor." He bent and brushed her hair out of her face, his left hand holding Martha's left as she opened her eyes and looked up at Jack.
"Hey," he said gently. "Okay?"
She groaned. "God, that hurt like hell," she answered, trying to push herself upright.
"Steady sweetheart," Jack said softly, as he slid his right arm under her shoulders and helped her to sit up.
"Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" demanded Tom, his fists clenched and his expression furious.
Martha gave him a startled look, surprised by the violence of his language. "It's okay, Tom," she said gently. "I'm okay."
"I can see that!" he answered bitingly. "What I want to know is how it's possible for you to do that?"
"It's a long story." She allowed Jack to help her up to her feet. "Can you check my back?" she asked the Captain. "It got me there first."
He turned her towards the light and both men could see long tears in her coat and her shirt where the Weevil had raked its claws down her back. Jack eased her coat off, holding it between his knees, then lifted up the hem of Martha's shirt to inspect her back.
"It's healed as well," he assured her, helping her back into her coat.
"Thanks."
She turned and saw that Tom looked ready to thump Jack. "Tom, just relax, okay? We'll go back to the Hub and I'll explain, but calm down before you burst a blood vessel or something."
"Calm down? How the hell do you expect me to calm down when your boss is manhandling my wife as if I'm not even here, and you won't tell me what the fuck is going on?"
"Tom, that's enough!" Martha snapped, angry at the way he was implying that Jack had done something wrong.
"Don't talk to me like that," he snarled, starting forward furiously.
"That's enough, Tommy boy," Jack said, grabbing the other man's arm and pulling him aside from Martha.
"Don't call me Tommy, it's not my fucking name!"
The two men struggled, then there was a sound of a shot and Tom collapsed in Jack's arms. Martha turned, startled, and saw Johnson holstering a gun.
"What did you do that for?" Martha demanded, appalled.
"Relax, Dr Jones," Johnson said calmly. "I used the tranq gun."
Martha scowled at the other woman, then turned back to the young man who'd first been injured by the Weevil. "Hell! He's dead!"
"It's not your fault, Martha," Jack said softly. "You were attacked too."
"We'd better get rid of that thing," she said, nodding to the corpse of the Weevil. "And get Tom back to the Hub. Did you bring a jeep with you?"
"Yeah, it's parked down there." Jack gestured towards it, then he lifted Tom up, hoisting him over his shoulder. "What do you want to do about the victim?" he asked.
"I'll ring 999," she answered, "and report it anonymously."
"All right." Jack strode off, appearing to carry Tom easily.
Martha pulled out her mobile and began to dial, then looked up when Johnson, dragging the Weevil's corpse, paused beside her.
"Sorry I shot your husband," she said, "but it was the only way I could see to stop the situation turning into an all-out brawl."
Martha gave a curt nod before putting the phone to her ear.
They were back at the Hub within ten minutes; Johnson had gone to dispose of the Weevil corpse, while Jack was with Martha in the Medical Bay, waiting for Tom to wake up.
"I've never seen him so angry," Jack said quietly.
"Nor I," she answered.
"He seemed to think that you and I have been shagging behind his back," the Captain observed. "I'm sorry if I've given him that impression."
"It's not your fault," Martha said. "I've made it clear, time and again, that we're just close friends, but he never seems to believe me. It seems to me that he doesn't trust me - and given that I've never done anything to make him think I've been anything less than faithful, I have to wonder how much longer we can go on as we are."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Jack slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.
"Don't be," she answered. "It's not your fault my husband doesn't understand that I'd never deliberately do anything to hurt him. I knew he was unhappy about me moving to Torchwood from UNIT, but I thought he'd get used to the idea and support me, just as I've always supported him with regard to his career choices."
Tom gave a quiet groan and began to stir.
"You'd better go, for now," Martha told Jack. "If he sees you here with me he might get mad before I get a chance to explain."
"If you're sure?" The Captain looked doubtful, but when she nodded, he retreated. He knew he could use the Hub's internal security cameras to keep an eye on the Medical Bay, just in case.
Martha fetched a glass of water, then sat down on a stool beside Tom's bed.
"Oh God!" Tom clutched his head as struggled to sit up.
"Here." She held the glass out to him, knowing he'd be slightly dehydrated from the tranquilliser.
"What the hell happened?" he asked, taking the glass. His hand was shaking badly, but she made no effort to help him to hold it.
"Johnson used the tranq gun on you," Martha explained. "You were carrying on like an idiot." He gave her a sharp look and she raised her eyebrows at him. "You were. You wouldn't calm down or listen to what I was trying to tell you, and you were fighting with Jack."
He glared. "What did you expect me to do?" he demanded angrily. "You were badly injured by that monstrous creature, and then suddenly you were glowing gold and all your wounds were healed. How did you think I'd react? That's not normal human behaviour."
"I realise you were scared and upset," she said quietly. "But that was no excuse to accuse Jack of treating me as anything other than his colleague. I don't know why you won't believe me when I tell you that nothing's ever happened between me and Jack. He respects me too much to behave dishonourably towards me."
"I've seen the way he looks at you, and the way he touches you," Tom said.
Martha folded her arms over her chest. "Jack flirts with everyone," she said calmly, "as I've told you before several times."
"Yeah, but he doesn't look at other people as if he worships the ground they walk on."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, wondering if that was true - she hadn't seen it herself. "That still doesn't mean Jack and I are anything but close friends," Martha answered. "I've explained to you some of the things we went through after Jack and I met, and yet you still can't accept that as the basis for our close friendship." She sighed. "As for my wounds being healed, that's an accidental side effect of my travels with the Doctor, something that neither of us had foreseen because it was the consequence of an odd series of events."
"Oh really?" he sneered. "So, what, it's just a coincidence that you can heal yourself, even when your arm is ripped open down to the bone?"
"Yes, it is. I didn't even know I had limited regenerative abilities until a few months ago. The Doctor helped me to work out things out after I got injured in another Weevil attack, and my wounds healed up without leaving a trace."
"What?" he asked, jerking the glass in his surprise, and splashing water onto himself. "You never told me about that!"
She shrugged. "There didn't seem much point," she answered. "I almost died, but Jack gave me CPR, and then my wounds healed up."
"Christ almighty, Martha! How could you not see the point in telling me you almost died?"
"Tom, I've almost died loads of times, doing this job and when I was working for UNIT - what's the point of telling you after the event, when I've survived?"
He shook his head. "I think you'd better come with me when I go back tomorrow," he said. "At least if you're with me, I'll know what the hell's happening to you."
"I'm not going to Africa with you," Martha said. "I've got a job here. A job that I enjoy and that offers me the chance to do valuable work."
"Are you saying my work's not valuable?" he demanded.
"Of course not. I'm just telling you that I consider my work valuable too, and I'm not going to give it up on your whim."
"My whim? It's not a whim. I don't want my wife working for an organisation that lets her run insane risks."
"Just because I'm your wife, it doesn't give you the right to order me around," Martha said, feeling her anger rising. "I'm not an object that you own, I'm a person with free will and I choose to work for Torchwood."
"We'll see about that." Tom quickly got off the bed, then grabbed Martha's wrist and start moving towards the door.
Out in the Hub's main area, Jack saw what was happening and swore, then grabbed the tranq gun, intending to give Tom Milligan a further dose. By the time he reached the Medical Bay, however, it was too late: Tom was lying face down on the floor, and Martha had her knee in the small of his back, and his right arm twisted behind his back.
"You. Do. Not. Tell. Me. What. To. Do," she said, biting the words off one by one. "I'm your wife, not your slave. I choose to work at Torchwood, and if you cannot accept that, then you'd better file for a divorce. No man pushes me around, do you hear?"
He grunted, trying to free himself, but Martha had him pinned down too firmly. "Do you understand me?" she asked, twisting his arm a little further and causing him to yelp in pain.
"Yes!" he gasped.
"Good." She quickly moved away. "Get up, go home and get your things, and then get out," she said, sparks flashing in her dark eyes. "If you're not gone by the time I get home in an hour, I'm going to call the police, so don't think of messing around."
Tom peeled himself up off the floor, wincing at the dull ache in his shoulder. Johnson appeared in the doorway, standing just behind Jack, who'd been watching in awe as his diminutive friend dealt with her husband.
"It's okay, Jack, Tom's just going," Martha said.
He stumbled out, and Johnson followed him, making sure that he did leave the premises. Jack, meanwhile, crossed the Medical Bay to wrap Martha in a hug.
"You okay?" he asked softly as she clung to him.
"No," she answered, choking down a sob.
"Oh sweetheart. Come on." He scooped her up and carried her through into the main room, setting her back on her feet beside her workstation. "Do you want to go and have a nap?" he asked.
She nodded, and he put an arm around her shoulders and led her towards the stairs down to the rest area. Johnson came back and she mouthed "Stay with her" at him, then pointed towards the Rift monitor, and Jack nodded gratefully.
Martha slumped down onto the bed, then lifted her foot to take off her shoes.
"Let me," Jack said, kneeling on the floor. He eased her feet out of the high heels she was wearing to match her outfit, then lifted her feet and swung her legs round onto the bed. "Lie down and get some rest."
"Stay with me?" she asked, her voice hoarse as she choked back her tears.
Jack quickly pulled off his boots, then lay down beside her, before pulling her close. "Come on, sweetheart, let it all out."
He rubbed her back as he held her, feeling relieved when she began to sob. He guessed that her encounter with the Weevil earlier, as well as her fight with Tom, had combined to reduce her to this state since Martha Jones was usually so strong.
After a while her sobs subsided, and then she fell asleep, wrapped in Jack's embrace. He couldn't help feeling the irony of his situation: Tom had accused him of shagging Martha, and here he was, finally sharing a bed with her for the first time, but she was fast asleep.
* * * * * *
A week later
The Terra Nova was busy, but not crowded, as the assembled Torchwood team celebrated Martha's birthday. They'd left the Hub empty for once, although Gwen had a specially adapted PDA, one of Tosh's creations, in her pocket which was set up to alert them if anything significant happened involving the Rift.
Jack had insisted that they all eat out to celebrate Martha's birthday; he'd wanted to cheer her up after her less-than-successful evening out with Tom the previous week, which had culminated in a letter from a local divorce lawyer. Since then Martha had thrown herself into her work as if her life depended on it, and he'd worried that she was going to make herself ill if she carried on in the same way, so he'd booked a table for dinner at The Terra Nova for the whole team.
"And now a toast to the birthday girl," Gwen said, as the staff took away their empty dessert dishes.
They all got to their feet, raising their glasses to Martha.
"To Dr Martha Jones, may she live to heal us for a very long time."
"Gwen!" protested Rhys.
"What?" asked Gwen, puzzled.
"That's a workaholic's toast, if ever I heard one," he said. He looked down at Martha who was watching her friends with an amused smile. "Happy birthday, love, may you live to be a hundred at least."
Jack and Lois started laughing at Gwen's bemused expression, then they all said loudly "To Martha!" before seating themselves again.
"You're all completely mad," the young medic informed them.
"But you love us anyway," Jack said confidently.
"God help me, I do," she agreed.
They finished their drinks, then began gathering themselves together. Johnson and Lois were going back to the Hub, while Gwen and Rhys were heading home.
"I'll walk you home," Jack said, helping Martha into her red leather jacket.
"Thanks."
She'd made plans to move out of the large flat that she and Tom had been renting, but so far, she was still looking for a smaller one that suited her in size and location.
"Do you want to come in for a coffee?" she asked as they reached the steps that led up to Martha's front door.
"Sure," Jack agreed easily.
Martha let them in, then led the way to the kitchen where she got out the makings of coffee.
"Did you have a good birthday?" he asked, lounging against the breakfast bar as he watched her.
"Yes, thank you. I appreciate you organising that for me. I don't think I'd have bothered otherwise."
He moved across the kitchen and put his arms around her. "You deserved to celebrate properly," he said.
She turned in his arms, then stretched up onto tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then his lips.
"Mmm." Jack hummed his approval, and then gasped when she slid a hand down his side and between their bodies to cup him through his trousers.
"I want you, Jack Harkness," Martha said, her voice low and husky.
He looked down into her dark eyes, seeing desire there. "I was going to ask if you were sure," he said quietly. "But I'm going to assume you are."
"Good." She pulled away, then grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom. "Sit down," she said, pushing his chest.
He obeyed, then watched, mesmerised, as she undressed herself.
"I always knew you didn't wear a bra," he observed when Martha lifted the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up over her head to reveal her bare breasts.
She smirked at him. "And I'm betting you don't wear underwear."
"Touché." He grinned.
Moments later they were both naked and lying on their sides on the bed, facing each other.
"I've wanted to do this since the first time you kissed me, out at the end of the universe," Jack said, stroking a finger down her cheek.
"I didn't kiss you, that was CPR!" she protested, but he could see the mirth in her eyes.
"Whatever," he answered, smirking. "Now, let me kiss you properly, Dr Jones."
"As you wish, Captain Harkness." She allowed him to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer, then succumbed to his lips with a murmur of pleasure.
She could feel his arousal growing, the erection pressing against her leg became bigger and harder as they kissed, and she felt herself growing slick with desire.
"Please Jack!" she gasped, eventually.
"Please what?" he asked, moving his mouth from hers to kiss each of her breasts in turn.
"I want you inside me."
He lifted his head as she shifted against him, rubbing her body against his. "You only had to ask," he said, smirking. He rolled her onto her back, then spread her legs before putting on a condom and sliding inside her.
Martha moaned with pleasure as he penetrated her deeply, then gasped breathlessly as he began to move. She wasn't surprised when her first orgasm hit her after only a few minutes, nor when he brought her to a second climax soon after that. She stroked a hand up and down his spine, then squeezed his buttocks.
"Come for me, Jack," she said softly. "I want you to come for me."
He moaned deeply, continuing to move, then she pushed a finger inside him, and he gave a wordless cry as his orgasm hit him.
"Sneaky," he gasped, once he'd caught his breath.
She smirked up at him. "It seemed the obvious thing to do," she answered.
"Which doesn't mean it's not sneaky."
Martha chuckled, and he ducked his head to kiss her languidly.
"Thank you," she said softly when he pulled away to catch his breath again.
"No, thank you," he answered. "I'm delighted that you wanted to share that with me."
"Mmm." Martha's murmur was sleepy, and Jack lifted his head to look at her.
"Dr Jones, are you going to sleep on me?"
She opened her eyes. "Just a little nap," she mumbled.
He laughed softly. "All right then. But I warn you, I intend to wake you up again in a bit."
"'kay," she agreed.
Jack slid his arm underneath her body, then rolled them over, before pulling the duvet over them both.
"Happy birthday, Dr Jones," he whispered, kissing her cheek. He lay smiling in the darkness, thinking about this brilliant young woman whom he'd loved from the minute he'd met her, and decided he was looking forward to spending more time with her.
A few minutes later, Jack was asleep too.