Turning 24
Title: Turning 24
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Martha
Rating: U
Spoilers: Season 3
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: I posted the first part of this as one of the Drabbles I'd written for ladymako71 for the lifeonmartha 1000 Drabbles of Awesome Tag game - then I was asked (somewhat inevitably) for a sequel by padawanpooh who promised me nekkid dancing Ten if I wrote it! Somehow I couldn't refuse! But (inevitably!) it ran away from me so I'm posting it here. So I've re-posted the Drabble-y part here with the sequel attached (rather than send people away to read the first part elsewhere)...
Oh and I thought this was going to be smut but, um, it's not...
~~~~~~
As far as her birth certificate was concerned, Martha Jones was 24 today - but then her birth certificate couldn't take into account a year that had been lived through, then rewound, or the time she'd spent in 1913 and 1969. By her reckoning Martha was nearer to 26, but this morning, after a week of late shifts, she felt 96. She'd finished work at 2 am and only managed a few hours sleep before her neighbour's baby began screaming. She groaned and turned over, pulling the pillow over her head and hoping to go back to sleep, but half an hour later she acknowledged that it wasn't going to happen until the baby stopped screaming.
After a quick shower she went to make herself some coffee and contemplated ringing her mum to cancel the family dinner that evening, since she was so tired, but she knew she'd never hear the end of it if she did. She'd just have to hope she could stay awake. She carried her coffee over to the table, then yelped as she stubbed her toe against a chair leg, then swore when the jolt made her lose her grip on her mug, and china and coffee crashed to the floor.
"I never thought to hear you swear like that," said a soft voice behind her, startling her badly.
She turned and stared speechlessly at the Doctor standing in the kitchen doorway. He immediately crossed the kitchen and held out his arms to her, and she stepped into his embrace with a feeling of relief.
"Happy birthday Doctor Jones."
"Thanks," she answered, voice muffled against his shirt.
"How about letting me take you away to celebrate?" he asked.
She looked up into his face. "What I most want for my birthday is 12 hours sleep," she told him.
He looked surprised, then grinned and jerked his head towards the back garden. "Time machine."
She managed a smile. "Let me clear this up first, then I'll be there."
"I'll clear this up," he said. "Go and get your jim-jams and whatever else you want to make yourself comfy in the TARDIS."
She raised an eyebrow. "OK." She padded away and the Doctor carefully picked up the pieces of china, and put them on a tea towel on the table, then mopped up the spilt coffee. When Martha came back a few minutes later, the mug was sitting on the table, whole again.
"You fixed it!"
He waggled his Sonic Screwdriver at her, then pocketed it. "Yup!" he said with a wide grin.
She practically threw herself into his arms. "Thank you! That's my favourite mug - my Gran gave me that when I was 10. She - she's gone now."
He held her close. "I'm sorry."
"It's OK. She had a good long innings. But that's why I was swearing when you came in."
"Ah." He pulled away from her a little. "Ready?" She nodded, showing him the bag into which she'd stuffed her pyjamas and a couple of other items. "Then let me take you to bed, Doctor Jones."
The Doctor held Martha's hand as he led her out to the TARDIS, she wasn't sure why, but she found she didn't mind - in fact she rather liked it.
He unlocked the door and pushed it open, then stooped and picked her up.
"Doctor!"
"Doctor Jones?"
"Why are you carrying me into the TARDIS when I'm perfectly capable of walking?"
He pushed the door shut with his foot, then grinned as the lights brightened and the TARDIS' perpetual hum increased. "Because I feel like it," he said. "Someone else is glad to have you back aboard too." He nodded towards the console.
Martha couldn't help grinning at his words. She'd been surprised by just how strong a bond she'd developed with the TARDIS during the time she'd been travelling on the ship. During the time she'd been away she had missed the ship as much as she'd missed the Doctor. "I missed you too," she called out to the ship.
The Doctor carried her through the corridors. "Hang on, where are we going?" Martha asked. "You passed my door back there."
"I know."
"So where are we going?" she asked again.
"Wait and see."
She frowned, but since he was carrying her, she didn't have much choice unless she wanted to risk jumping out of his arms, and she didn't fancy that - she might sprain her ankle or worse.
"Close your eyes," the Doctor said as he stopped beside a pale blue door. Martha obediently closed her eyes. "And no peeking."
"I'm not a child," she answered.
"I know," he answered. He didn't tell her that he would have peeked if the situation had been reversed.
The TARDIS opened the door for him and he stepped into the room, then walked forwards a few paces. Glancing down he saw that Martha's eyes were still closed. I never want to let her go, he thought as he lowered her gently onto the bed.
"You can open your eyes now," he said.
She opened her eyes, then opened them still wider, staring in astonishment at the opulent room. She was sitting on a four-poster that was hung with green curtains patterned with silver leaves. The walls of the room were a burnt orange and the carpet was red.
"This is your room?" she guessed.
The Doctor nodded. "I thought you'd be more comfortable in here - and besides, the TARDIS can ensure you get a full 12 hours uninterrupted sleep if you're here."
"And where will you be?"
"I'll just potter around," he said. He saw the way her face fell just a little and took a deep breath mentally. "Unless - "
"Unless what?" she asked, trying not to sound hopeful.
"Well, I could stay here with you, if you want. But if you'd rather I didn't, that's OK, I can just - "
"I'd like you to stay," Martha said quietly, cutting through his babble.
"Really?" he asked not bothering to hide his hopefulness.
"Really." She opened the bag she'd brought with her and took out her pyjamas, a small lavender scented pillow and a stuffed owl.
The Doctor looked at the owl in surprise, then sat down on the bed facing Martha. "Story?" he asked gently.
She nodded. "I was given one like this by a young Harry Potter fan in Australia. He wanted me to have something to remember him by when I moved on. But then I gave it away to another young fan in Sweden - she'd seen both her parents killed by the spheres." She rubbed at her eyes one-handed, clutching the owl with the other. The Doctor waited for her to continue. "I got this one to remember them both by, after - " She didn't finish her sentence, but she knew she didn't need to.
He reached out and ran a finger down the owl's wing, then rubbed it over Martha's knuckles. Then he moved closer and pulled her into a hug. "Get some sleep, then we'll talk, if you want."
"OK."
"You get into your jim-jams, and I'll be right back." He went out into the corridor and leant against the wall. He felt guilty that they'd never really talked about what she'd experienced during that year. No wonder she'd walked out on him when he behaved so thoughtlessly.
He went back into his room a few minutes later to find Martha curled up in the middle of his bed, clutching the owl and looking small on his big bed. He pulled off his coat, shoes, jacket and tie, then sat on the bed. "Cuddle?" he asked.
"Yes please." She rolled over and he lay down, then wrapped his arms around her.
"Sleep," he told her softly and within a few minutes she was fast asleep.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Martha
Rating: U
Spoilers: Season 3
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: I posted the first part of this as one of the Drabbles I'd written for ladymako71 for the lifeonmartha 1000 Drabbles of Awesome Tag game - then I was asked (somewhat inevitably) for a sequel by padawanpooh who promised me nekkid dancing Ten if I wrote it! Somehow I couldn't refuse! But (inevitably!) it ran away from me so I'm posting it here. So I've re-posted the Drabble-y part here with the sequel attached (rather than send people away to read the first part elsewhere)...
Oh and I thought this was going to be smut but, um, it's not...
~~~~~~
As far as her birth certificate was concerned, Martha Jones was 24 today - but then her birth certificate couldn't take into account a year that had been lived through, then rewound, or the time she'd spent in 1913 and 1969. By her reckoning Martha was nearer to 26, but this morning, after a week of late shifts, she felt 96. She'd finished work at 2 am and only managed a few hours sleep before her neighbour's baby began screaming. She groaned and turned over, pulling the pillow over her head and hoping to go back to sleep, but half an hour later she acknowledged that it wasn't going to happen until the baby stopped screaming.
After a quick shower she went to make herself some coffee and contemplated ringing her mum to cancel the family dinner that evening, since she was so tired, but she knew she'd never hear the end of it if she did. She'd just have to hope she could stay awake. She carried her coffee over to the table, then yelped as she stubbed her toe against a chair leg, then swore when the jolt made her lose her grip on her mug, and china and coffee crashed to the floor.
"I never thought to hear you swear like that," said a soft voice behind her, startling her badly.
She turned and stared speechlessly at the Doctor standing in the kitchen doorway. He immediately crossed the kitchen and held out his arms to her, and she stepped into his embrace with a feeling of relief.
"Happy birthday Doctor Jones."
"Thanks," she answered, voice muffled against his shirt.
"How about letting me take you away to celebrate?" he asked.
She looked up into his face. "What I most want for my birthday is 12 hours sleep," she told him.
He looked surprised, then grinned and jerked his head towards the back garden. "Time machine."
She managed a smile. "Let me clear this up first, then I'll be there."
"I'll clear this up," he said. "Go and get your jim-jams and whatever else you want to make yourself comfy in the TARDIS."
She raised an eyebrow. "OK." She padded away and the Doctor carefully picked up the pieces of china, and put them on a tea towel on the table, then mopped up the spilt coffee. When Martha came back a few minutes later, the mug was sitting on the table, whole again.
"You fixed it!"
He waggled his Sonic Screwdriver at her, then pocketed it. "Yup!" he said with a wide grin.
She practically threw herself into his arms. "Thank you! That's my favourite mug - my Gran gave me that when I was 10. She - she's gone now."
He held her close. "I'm sorry."
"It's OK. She had a good long innings. But that's why I was swearing when you came in."
"Ah." He pulled away from her a little. "Ready?" She nodded, showing him the bag into which she'd stuffed her pyjamas and a couple of other items. "Then let me take you to bed, Doctor Jones."
The Doctor held Martha's hand as he led her out to the TARDIS, she wasn't sure why, but she found she didn't mind - in fact she rather liked it.
He unlocked the door and pushed it open, then stooped and picked her up.
"Doctor!"
"Doctor Jones?"
"Why are you carrying me into the TARDIS when I'm perfectly capable of walking?"
He pushed the door shut with his foot, then grinned as the lights brightened and the TARDIS' perpetual hum increased. "Because I feel like it," he said. "Someone else is glad to have you back aboard too." He nodded towards the console.
Martha couldn't help grinning at his words. She'd been surprised by just how strong a bond she'd developed with the TARDIS during the time she'd been travelling on the ship. During the time she'd been away she had missed the ship as much as she'd missed the Doctor. "I missed you too," she called out to the ship.
The Doctor carried her through the corridors. "Hang on, where are we going?" Martha asked. "You passed my door back there."
"I know."
"So where are we going?" she asked again.
"Wait and see."
She frowned, but since he was carrying her, she didn't have much choice unless she wanted to risk jumping out of his arms, and she didn't fancy that - she might sprain her ankle or worse.
"Close your eyes," the Doctor said as he stopped beside a pale blue door. Martha obediently closed her eyes. "And no peeking."
"I'm not a child," she answered.
"I know," he answered. He didn't tell her that he would have peeked if the situation had been reversed.
The TARDIS opened the door for him and he stepped into the room, then walked forwards a few paces. Glancing down he saw that Martha's eyes were still closed. I never want to let her go, he thought as he lowered her gently onto the bed.
"You can open your eyes now," he said.
She opened her eyes, then opened them still wider, staring in astonishment at the opulent room. She was sitting on a four-poster that was hung with green curtains patterned with silver leaves. The walls of the room were a burnt orange and the carpet was red.
"This is your room?" she guessed.
The Doctor nodded. "I thought you'd be more comfortable in here - and besides, the TARDIS can ensure you get a full 12 hours uninterrupted sleep if you're here."
"And where will you be?"
"I'll just potter around," he said. He saw the way her face fell just a little and took a deep breath mentally. "Unless - "
"Unless what?" she asked, trying not to sound hopeful.
"Well, I could stay here with you, if you want. But if you'd rather I didn't, that's OK, I can just - "
"I'd like you to stay," Martha said quietly, cutting through his babble.
"Really?" he asked not bothering to hide his hopefulness.
"Really." She opened the bag she'd brought with her and took out her pyjamas, a small lavender scented pillow and a stuffed owl.
The Doctor looked at the owl in surprise, then sat down on the bed facing Martha. "Story?" he asked gently.
She nodded. "I was given one like this by a young Harry Potter fan in Australia. He wanted me to have something to remember him by when I moved on. But then I gave it away to another young fan in Sweden - she'd seen both her parents killed by the spheres." She rubbed at her eyes one-handed, clutching the owl with the other. The Doctor waited for her to continue. "I got this one to remember them both by, after - " She didn't finish her sentence, but she knew she didn't need to.
He reached out and ran a finger down the owl's wing, then rubbed it over Martha's knuckles. Then he moved closer and pulled her into a hug. "Get some sleep, then we'll talk, if you want."
"OK."
"You get into your jim-jams, and I'll be right back." He went out into the corridor and leant against the wall. He felt guilty that they'd never really talked about what she'd experienced during that year. No wonder she'd walked out on him when he behaved so thoughtlessly.
He went back into his room a few minutes later to find Martha curled up in the middle of his bed, clutching the owl and looking small on his big bed. He pulled off his coat, shoes, jacket and tie, then sat on the bed. "Cuddle?" he asked.
"Yes please." She rolled over and he lay down, then wrapped his arms around her.
"Sleep," he told her softly and within a few minutes she was fast asleep.