Aid for the Weary
Title: Aid for the Weary
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Doctor
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Doctor aids his Companion.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: This fic is for my Beta, padawanpooh, who offered me the following prompts: "loobrush, sausages, woodlouse" - I presume in an attempt to make me despair?!
Thank you padawanpooh, for your friendship, generosity and your unstinting Beta-work.
~~~~~~
Martha stared in disbelief at the eight foot tall green spotted woodlouse armed with a loobrush that was preparing to charge her. She felt in the pocket of her combat trousers and pulled out a sausage, which she glared at in annoyance, then hurled it at the giant woodlouse. It caught the sausage in its slathering jaws, then swallowed it.
"Martha."
A soft voice called her name, distracting her.
"Martha, Martha Jones."
She shrugged a shoulder, annoyed that someone was distracting her at such a crucial moment: couldn't they see she had to stop this monster?
She felt a touch on her mind: Martha Jones, wake up.
Slowly she focused and discovered that the woodlouse had been a dream, which was something of a relief really. A familiar face was smiling gently at her.
"Hello. I did warn you those fruits would give you weird dreams," the Doctor said.
"You did," she agreed, then winced and put a hand to her ribs.
"They're almost healed," he assured her. "But because you were forced to eat those Dromen, I cannot give you anything to ease the pain."
Martha groaned slightly. Normally when she was injured she or the Doctor would raid the TARDIS' Med Bay for painkillers - it was a comfort to know that she wouldn't have to suffer too much pain when she was injured. And whilst it was true that two cracked ribs didn't rank very high on her list of injuries received, the dull ache she was experiencing was a nuisance.
The Doctor ran his fingertips across her bare skin, his cooler body temperature proving somewhat soothing. "I can think of a couple of ways to make you forget the pain," he suggested with a mischievous smile, eyes twinkling.
"Oh can you?" She couldn't help smiling back at him. She sincerely hoped she'd never get blasé about having a Time Lord for a lover, although she suspected he had completely ruined her for human lovers.
"Yes. Would you like me to try them out on you?" His fingers had drifted from her ribcage to her navel, now they lingered, stroking lightly, on her left thigh.
"I think I would like that very much indeed," she answered. "But only if you kiss me first."
His smile widened into an outright grin. "Anything for my lady," he said. "Especially when my lady has been injured *and* drugged defending innocents." He lowered his head to meet hers and she received his fervent kisses with enthusiasm, tangling her fingers in his long curly hair. Her last coherent thought was that whilst the nineteenth century Dandy look undoubtedly suited him, she really did prefer him naked.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha/Doctor
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Summary: The Doctor aids his Companion.
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and the Doctor owns me…
Author Notes: This fic is for my Beta, padawanpooh, who offered me the following prompts: "loobrush, sausages, woodlouse" - I presume in an attempt to make me despair?!
Thank you padawanpooh, for your friendship, generosity and your unstinting Beta-work.
~~~~~~
Martha stared in disbelief at the eight foot tall green spotted woodlouse armed with a loobrush that was preparing to charge her. She felt in the pocket of her combat trousers and pulled out a sausage, which she glared at in annoyance, then hurled it at the giant woodlouse. It caught the sausage in its slathering jaws, then swallowed it.
"Martha."
A soft voice called her name, distracting her.
"Martha, Martha Jones."
She shrugged a shoulder, annoyed that someone was distracting her at such a crucial moment: couldn't they see she had to stop this monster?
She felt a touch on her mind: Martha Jones, wake up.
Slowly she focused and discovered that the woodlouse had been a dream, which was something of a relief really. A familiar face was smiling gently at her.
"Hello. I did warn you those fruits would give you weird dreams," the Doctor said.
"You did," she agreed, then winced and put a hand to her ribs.
"They're almost healed," he assured her. "But because you were forced to eat those Dromen, I cannot give you anything to ease the pain."
Martha groaned slightly. Normally when she was injured she or the Doctor would raid the TARDIS' Med Bay for painkillers - it was a comfort to know that she wouldn't have to suffer too much pain when she was injured. And whilst it was true that two cracked ribs didn't rank very high on her list of injuries received, the dull ache she was experiencing was a nuisance.
The Doctor ran his fingertips across her bare skin, his cooler body temperature proving somewhat soothing. "I can think of a couple of ways to make you forget the pain," he suggested with a mischievous smile, eyes twinkling.
"Oh can you?" She couldn't help smiling back at him. She sincerely hoped she'd never get blasé about having a Time Lord for a lover, although she suspected he had completely ruined her for human lovers.
"Yes. Would you like me to try them out on you?" His fingers had drifted from her ribcage to her navel, now they lingered, stroking lightly, on her left thigh.
"I think I would like that very much indeed," she answered. "But only if you kiss me first."
His smile widened into an outright grin. "Anything for my lady," he said. "Especially when my lady has been injured *and* drugged defending innocents." He lowered his head to meet hers and she received his fervent kisses with enthusiasm, tangling her fingers in his long curly hair. Her last coherent thought was that whilst the nineteenth century Dandy look undoubtedly suited him, she really did prefer him naked.