He runs his finger over her clit and she whimpers. Oh, that sound, he thinks. He’s waited well over a year to hear that sound from her. Well, a year, a month or two, it’s all relative when a year of your life has been taken away from you.
But still, he’s waited. He’s very good at that now.
“Jack,” she breaths as he continues to stroke her, to tease her. She shouldn’t be here, she knows that, she has Tom now. But she’s remembering her first night back after that year because in some ways that was the most difficult of them all.
He stops. She looks up at him, questioning.
He lies on top of her, spreads her legs and enter her slowly. She brings her knees up towards her chest so he can touch her deeper, so deep now, in fact. She claws at his back and whispers his name over and over, matching each and every thrust.
She comes quickly and he follows soon after. He stretches out next to her and she’s laughing because not only has she remembered this perfectly she has totally relived it and now... Now, she wants to make it new.
“Do you want to sleep?” he asks her.
And she says, “nuh huh,” and then kisses him because she can’t remember this part at all.
+++
For centuries he has lived, and waited, but mostly lived. Sometimes he feels like the Doctor: a man who has lived different lives but all in one go; and he thinks, if it wasn’t for the Doctor, he’d never have got the chance.
Then there’s Martha: another reason to thank the Doctor; and now she lies in his bed, making the tiniest of sounds as she sleeps next to him.
She’s dreaming, he knows.
He leaves her because she wouldn’t want waking: she prefers to remember.
He goes back to sleep thinking that she’s a lot like the Doctor too.
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timeasmymeasure
Jack/Martha - R rated
Date: 2008-08-31 04:30 pm (UTC)But still, he’s waited. He’s very good at that now.
“Jack,” she breaths as he continues to stroke her, to tease her. She shouldn’t be here, she knows that, she has Tom now. But she’s remembering her first night back after that year because in some ways that was the most difficult of them all.
He stops. She looks up at him, questioning.
He lies on top of her, spreads her legs and enter her slowly. She brings her knees up towards her chest so he can touch her deeper, so deep now, in fact. She claws at his back and whispers his name over and over, matching each and every thrust.
She comes quickly and he follows soon after. He stretches out next to her and she’s laughing because not only has she remembered this perfectly she has totally relived it and now... Now, she wants to make it new.
“Do you want to sleep?” he asks her.
And she says, “nuh huh,” and then kisses him because she can’t remember this part at all.
+++
For centuries he has lived, and waited, but mostly lived. Sometimes he feels like the Doctor: a man who has lived different lives but all in one go; and he thinks, if it wasn’t for the Doctor, he’d never have got the chance.
Then there’s Martha: another reason to thank the Doctor; and now she lies in his bed, making the tiniest of sounds as she sleeps next to him.
She’s dreaming, he knows.
He leaves her because she wouldn’t want waking: she prefers to remember.
He goes back to sleep thinking that she’s a lot like the Doctor too.