fifty frenchmen can't be wrong (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
some_stars) wrote2007-04-30 11:49 am
some_stars) wrote2007-04-30 11:49 am
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LOOK, PR0N
uh, yeah, apparently i'm susceptible to complaints of 'not enough porn!' WHAT CAN I SAY, I AM A GIVER. this is unbetaed and un-brit-checked, PLEASE FEEL FREE to do those things in comments, seriously. also unfinished, but I will take care of that myself later. *g*
Set vaguely after the next episode, but no spoilers.
The causal chain of events, so far as Martha could see, went something like this: She said, yeah, okay, and took that impossible dimension-shifting step for the fifth time, and the grille seemed to vibrate under her feet just the tiniest bit, and they smiled at each other big stupid smiles--the sort where the awkwardness between you isn't an embarrassing failure but a promise--and he hopped over to the console and went into hyperactive lever-flipping mode while she walked slowly around the edge of the room, taking it all in more closely than she had done those first few days, when it was all just information-shock and overload. As she made her way round closer to his side, the Doctor smacked a large glowing button and said, "Right, now hold on, you may go a bit inside out for a second--" and the room began to shake. She caught a piece of railing, steadying herself and grinning helplessly, and he turned round and *then*--this being the part where the 'causal' part of 'causal chain' seemed to break down--she stepped forward, lost her footing in the shaking and sort of stumbled him up against the controls and into a kiss.
It just *happened,* except it didn't feel as creepy and romance-novelly as that sounded when she said it to herself. More like a natural consequence, gravity, something with a formula and a tidy-looking graph. The shaking and grinding of the TARDIS was surrounding her, up from her feet and through his hips against the controls and even his hands on her face, his tongue and teeth and lips seemed to carry the vibration. Then the last tremors stopped and left just them, together. Materializing, that's what he had said before, they'd materialized again.
"Where are we?" Martha asked, not peeling herself off of him one bit.
"Ga'ar Ta, should be. Rather like Earth, but the dominant life form's a sort of sentient bunny rabbit."
She opened her eyes. "Really? Bunnies?"
"Oh yes. Quite clever bastards too, spaceships and everything."
"Bunnies," Martha said again, "huh. Good place for a shag, then?"
The Doctor made a noise like he'd swallowed his own tongue. She pulled him down, or he pushed her, both, whichever, she sat down hard on the grille floor and he landed half on top of her and they were off again. On. Whichever. His body pressed heavy against hers, cooler than normal--than human normal, anyhow. It made her feel hotter, fevered. When she tugged on his lip with her teeth he shivered all over and she felt it up and down, rocked up against him in response. He hadn't even got his coat off yet but she didn't care, she could hitch one leg up around him and get him right where she needed, nudged up tight against the seam of her jeans where she could, could--"Ah, god," she gasped, almost shocked at herself.
"Go on," the Doctor said, eyes dark, "go on, Martha, that's good, take what you need, oh, *very* good, Martha, yes..." He slid one hand under her bottom, pulling her up tighter, but otherwise he kept still. Let her--oh god, the heat crawling up behind her ears, let her rub herself off against him, dense and solid between her legs and watching her so hard, like she was the birth of the universe or something else suitably cosmic. She heard herself groaning, helpless little huh-uhh noises, watched him soak up each one hungrily. Then her head jerked back when she came, couldn't see him, couldn't even see the ceiling.
She lay there and breathed through the aftershocks for a minute. He was moving above her, she heard the coat hit the floor, heard his trousers open. No other clothing-removal sound effects followed, and she turned her head back to look at him.
"You've still got your *tie* on," she said incredulously.
The Doctor looked slightly embarrassed, at least. "Yes, well. I don't want to, er, scandalize the TARDIS too much. She gets a bit twitchy about her console room sometimes."
"The TARDIS--oh my god, it's not going to electrocute us or something, is it?" She started scrabbling to sit up.
"No! No, of course not," the Doctor said, sounding rather offended. "She's just got some very firm ideas about the appropriate time and place for activities. Hm. I suppose we should migrate to a more suitable room..."
"The *hell* we should," Martha said, and yanked his pants down to his knees.
*
uh, yeah, apparently i'm susceptible to complaints of 'not enough porn!' WHAT CAN I SAY, I AM A GIVER. this is unbetaed and un-brit-checked, PLEASE FEEL FREE to do those things in comments, seriously. also unfinished, but I will take care of that myself later. *g*
Set vaguely after the next episode, but no spoilers.
The causal chain of events, so far as Martha could see, went something like this: She said, yeah, okay, and took that impossible dimension-shifting step for the fifth time, and the grille seemed to vibrate under her feet just the tiniest bit, and they smiled at each other big stupid smiles--the sort where the awkwardness between you isn't an embarrassing failure but a promise--and he hopped over to the console and went into hyperactive lever-flipping mode while she walked slowly around the edge of the room, taking it all in more closely than she had done those first few days, when it was all just information-shock and overload. As she made her way round closer to his side, the Doctor smacked a large glowing button and said, "Right, now hold on, you may go a bit inside out for a second--" and the room began to shake. She caught a piece of railing, steadying herself and grinning helplessly, and he turned round and *then*--this being the part where the 'causal' part of 'causal chain' seemed to break down--she stepped forward, lost her footing in the shaking and sort of stumbled him up against the controls and into a kiss.
It just *happened,* except it didn't feel as creepy and romance-novelly as that sounded when she said it to herself. More like a natural consequence, gravity, something with a formula and a tidy-looking graph. The shaking and grinding of the TARDIS was surrounding her, up from her feet and through his hips against the controls and even his hands on her face, his tongue and teeth and lips seemed to carry the vibration. Then the last tremors stopped and left just them, together. Materializing, that's what he had said before, they'd materialized again.
"Where are we?" Martha asked, not peeling herself off of him one bit.
"Ga'ar Ta, should be. Rather like Earth, but the dominant life form's a sort of sentient bunny rabbit."
She opened her eyes. "Really? Bunnies?"
"Oh yes. Quite clever bastards too, spaceships and everything."
"Bunnies," Martha said again, "huh. Good place for a shag, then?"
The Doctor made a noise like he'd swallowed his own tongue. She pulled him down, or he pushed her, both, whichever, she sat down hard on the grille floor and he landed half on top of her and they were off again. On. Whichever. His body pressed heavy against hers, cooler than normal--than human normal, anyhow. It made her feel hotter, fevered. When she tugged on his lip with her teeth he shivered all over and she felt it up and down, rocked up against him in response. He hadn't even got his coat off yet but she didn't care, she could hitch one leg up around him and get him right where she needed, nudged up tight against the seam of her jeans where she could, could--"Ah, god," she gasped, almost shocked at herself.
"Go on," the Doctor said, eyes dark, "go on, Martha, that's good, take what you need, oh, *very* good, Martha, yes..." He slid one hand under her bottom, pulling her up tighter, but otherwise he kept still. Let her--oh god, the heat crawling up behind her ears, let her rub herself off against him, dense and solid between her legs and watching her so hard, like she was the birth of the universe or something else suitably cosmic. She heard herself groaning, helpless little huh-uhh noises, watched him soak up each one hungrily. Then her head jerked back when she came, couldn't see him, couldn't even see the ceiling.
She lay there and breathed through the aftershocks for a minute. He was moving above her, she heard the coat hit the floor, heard his trousers open. No other clothing-removal sound effects followed, and she turned her head back to look at him.
"You've still got your *tie* on," she said incredulously.
The Doctor looked slightly embarrassed, at least. "Yes, well. I don't want to, er, scandalize the TARDIS too much. She gets a bit twitchy about her console room sometimes."
"The TARDIS--oh my god, it's not going to electrocute us or something, is it?" She started scrabbling to sit up.
"No! No, of course not," the Doctor said, sounding rather offended. "She's just got some very firm ideas about the appropriate time and place for activities. Hm. I suppose we should migrate to a more suitable room..."
"The *hell* we should," Martha said, and yanked his pants down to his knees.
*