As promised, Here's the alternate ending to About Time. Enjoy! Read and review!
He placed her gently in the captain's chair, taking a moment to give her another tender kiss before he was off again- doing that dance around the console. It was different- more frantic- she noticed. He wasn't as tall as he once was, so stretching his gangly limbs across the console wouldn't quite work. But this stylized cranking of levers and pressing of buttons seemed to fit him. She watched him with that familiar anticipation of the unknown, and a fire in the pit of her stomach that she thought had died long ago.
Martha rode out the familiar turbulence of their departure as the TARDIS settled herself into the vortex. The Doctor finally stilled at the console, facing Martha. His easy expression seemed to contrast against the smoldering of his gaze.
She slid smoothly out of the chair and walked over to the console; the rhythmic click-click of her heels ringing through the room as she did. But she didn't touch him. Instead, she brace her hands against the edge of the console right beside him, leaning gently and glancing playfully out of the corner of her eye. She was close enough to touch him, but she dared not. She wasn't making the first move, she decided. And she was going to thoroughly enjoy making the Doctor work for it.
He tried to remain as stubborn as Martha. But his longing and her proximity played against him and he suddenly found it hard to breath. That impulse, that driving force that brought him back to her after all these years now drew him once more to the smooth golden bonze of her skin and the light scent of her perfume that seemed to mix so seamlessly with the heady aroma of her arousal.
He turned to position himself behind her, trailing his feather-light touch from her shoulders to her wrists and enjoying the slight shudder that she hoped he hadn't noticed. The Doctor then removed the pins that held her hair in place, letting it fall in loose curls down her back. He took a moment to completely take her in (Martha Jones in white just seemed so wrong. He had to rectify this grave injustice) before his grip on her became more possessive. He grasped her hips roughly and pulled her to him. She could feel his hardness straining against her lower back and it spurred her own arousal. She moaned with the sensation and let her head fall to the side.
The Doctor took this opportunity to taste the soft skin that lay just behind her ear- every bit as delicious as he imagined it would be. Her moans were music and he continued to play her body as if it were an instrument- stroking and pinching different parts of her to produce a different sound. He pushed his hands up the silky corset to grip and pull at her breasts through the material. He pulled his hands down to trace the lace of her thong around her hips and thighs, but never quite touching that space that begged to be addressed. All the while, he never took his lips away from her neck or his hardness away from where it pressed against her.
White. He thought. It has to go. She gasped as he ripped open the corset from where it laced up in the back. Unlacing the complicated garment would have taken longer than he could stand. The corset dropped easily to the floor and he stepped back to admire the almost unbroken path of smooth, brown skin and his handiwork: the destroyed mass of silk and boning that pooled at her feet. He could hear her shallow breathing. He knew she couldn't hold out for much longer. But, then again, neither could he.
He trailed slow, wet kisses down her spine and relished in the delicious way she arched her back when he snaked his tongue out to taste the space between the dimples that lay at the small of her back. He removed the soaking bit of lace and was immediately assaulted by the intoxicating scent of her. As she lifted her leg slightly to step out her underwear, he caught her ankle in his hand and moved it so that her legs were spread wide. She arched back a bit more, welcoming and anticipating what was to come.
With no ceremony or warning, he buried his face in her wetness. All of his control melted away as he devoured her- a maddening combination licking and sucking that had her hurdling to her orgasm in no time. She tightened her white-knuckle grip on the console as she stared at her own face reflected in the time rotor. He gripped her hips and pulled them closer to his mouth, bringing her to a second, third, and fourth orgasm before raising back to his feet and turning her to face him. He was still fully dressed but his face glistened with sweat and the evidence of her as his last meal.
Not taking her eyes off of his, Martha pulled herself up onto the console and spread her legs for him. She pulled him to her and kissed him deeply, enjoying the taste of herself more than she was ready to admit. With one hand gripping his hair, the other freed him and he immediately thrust into her. She moaned into his mouth, hers going slack for a few moments as they adjusted to each other. The Doctor let out a shaky expletive before pulling back and launching himself back into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she adjusted, then became an active participant- circling her hips to meet his thrusts.
After a few more thrusts, he stilled inside of her. She noticed the concentrated look on his handsome face, but forgot it soon after it melted into something a bit more manic. A bit more dangerous. He held her close while he pressed a sequence of buttons behind her, locking the controls. The he leaned her all the way back. The bits and bobs of the console pressed against her back, but not unpleasantly. He then pressed gently but firmly against her thighs, opening her even more to him. He took her by the hand and placed it between her legs and she got the hint, immediately setting to work massaging the engorged bud while he enjoyed the view.
He then leaned forward and began to thrust into her harder and faster than before. He snaked his tongue out to tease one nipple, then the other. The sensation proved to be too much for Martha and she came yet again. The Doctor didn't stop, bringing her off once more before emptying himself inside of her.
They laid there for a few moments, too sensitive and too breathless to move. Finally, the Doctor raised himself from the console and helped Martha up as well. She kicked off her heels and they shared a few sweet kisses- worlds away from the intense coupling they'd just shared.
"I should have come back a lot sooner." The Doctor said with that trademark sly smile.
"And that was just the beginning." Martha said, slipping his jacket from his shoulders. He hadn't even removed the bow tie. "Now it's my turn."
"Well then, Doctor Jones. We obviously have a bit more catching up to do than I thought. We'd better get started."
With that, the Doctor let their fingers intertwine as he led her to his bedroom.
Amy and Rory awoke to the sweet aroma of bacon.
"What's the occasion?" Rory asked in a drowsy haze. "The Doctor hardly ever cooks."
The couple made their way down the winding corridor that lead to the kitchen. "Doctor! That smells-"
Amy stopped short just after entering the kitchen. What she found was not, in fact, the Doctor- but a very petite brown-skinned woman. The stranger was standing at the stove humming a tune wearing only what Amy quickly realized was the Doctor's dress shirt. The woman stopped humming when she saw the shocked couple. "Oh! Hello!"
"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing here?!" Amy said, picking up the only weapon at her disposal: a hand mixer that had been sitting in a bowl of batter. The intruder seemed unthreatened.
"Martha Jones. And you must be Amy and Rory."
"That still doesn't answer the question." Amy said. "Why. Are. You. Here?"
Rory simply rolled his eyes and sat at the table.
"Well, the Doctor sort of… picked me up." Martha said, sitting the plate, piled high with bacon, on the table.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Jones." Said Rory, crunching on a piece of perfectly cooked bacon. This earned him a swat on the head from Amy, then another when she realized that he'd been staring at the mystery woman's legs.
"Stop eating that! It could be poison! We don't even know who she really is."
"Hello! Right here!" Martha said with amusement, starting on the French toast.
"Amy, look at her. I don't think she's here to kill us. Plus: she wouldn't poison the bacon. That's' just beyond evil!" He said, picking up another piece in outright rebellion.
"Yeah, well she wouldn't be the first scantily clad alien menace that we've met now would she?"
"Speaking of which…" They heard Martha mutter, and soon they saw what she was referring to. In shuffled a very sleepy-looking Doctor, dressed only from the waist down (sans shoes), rubbing the last remnants of slumber from his eyes.
"Doctor, what's going on here? Who is this woman?" Amy asked, pointing the mixer accusingly at Martha.
"Oh, I see you've already been acquainted then." He said as he lowered Amy's mixer-wielding hand. He kissed her on the cheek and ruffled Rory's hair as he passed, not stopping until he got to Martha- to whom he granted her a lingering kiss on the lips- to the surprise of his companions.
"Ummm… Is there something you'd like to tell us, Doctor?" Rory asked.
"Well, yes. This is Dr. Martha Jones. She will be traveling with us and, I suppose, in Earth terms she would be my girlfriend."
In a comical display of shock, the hand mixer and half of a piece of bacon dropped to the floor in unison. Rory was quick to recover; clearing his throat but saying nothing as he sought a replacement for his salty treat. Amy, however, was not so easily quieted.
"Girlfriend?! What? If she's so important all of the sudden, why haven't we heard of her? You've never even mentioned her!"
'Well, not to you…" Rory muttered, not looking up from the stack of French toast Martha had sat in front of him for fear of Amy's wrath. When he could no longer stand the hole Amy was burning through his skull, he finally worked up the nerve to meet her gaze. "What? Guys talk!"
While Amy gawked at her husband with shock and betrayal, The Doctor responded.
"Yes. My girlfriend. And it's hardly 'all of the sudden'." He said, leaning against the countertop. "I've known her for almost 10 years."
"Really? That's how long it's been for you?" Martha interjected, looking up from the second batch of French toast.
"Aren't you forgetting something? Like, gee… well, I don't know. YOUR WIFE?!" Amy shouted in pure outrage.
"Wife?" Martha exclaimed, though there wasn't as much anger as one might have expected, given the situation. In fact, the Doctor could sense the slightest bit of humor in her voice.
"Yes. Wife." Amy fired back. "Our daughter." She pointed back and forth between Rory and herself for emphasis.
"Their daughter? Doctor… that's just… wrong. You married their daughter?"
"It's a long story. River's not as young as you might be thinking." Rory replied, as the Doctor tried in vain to rub away the oncoming headache starting to form at his temples.
"Yes. River. Or have you forgotten?" Amy shot her words like pellets at the new couple- crossing her arms across her chest and refusing to eat any of Martha's cooking.
"Of course I haven't forgotten! I was just hoping to broach the subject with a bit more….tact." He said, shooting a look right back at Amy.
"Well, a good time would have been about 12 Earth hours ago when you said all of those lovely things and talked me out of marrying Tom." She smirked at him, knowing full well that it hadn't taken much to persuade her in the first place.
"You left your own wedding for another man?" Amy stood, her face twisted into a mask of short-lived disgust.
Short-lived because at that, both the Doctor and Rory let out their own cries of indignation, both speaking at the same time and so loudly that both women were taken aback.
"Glass houses, Pond!" The Doctor exclaimed, while Rory just shook his head saying, "You've got to be bloody kidding me!"
Rory continued, "You left with Him the night before our wedding for who knows how long! It took me dying, TWICE, for us to actually tie the knot!" While Amy and Rory argued, Martha stifled a giggle while muttering about their unique lots in life before putting the pieces together in her head.
"Wait. Your wife's name is River?" He nodded and she instructed for him to wait there. She came back with a blue book in her hand.
"I went back to my old room this morning and this was laying on the pillow. It was wrapped with a bow and everything. It's a journal."
At this, the arguing stopped and everyone tuned in to what Martha was saying.
She handed the book over to the Doctor, who flipped through it, noting the blank pages. When he got back to page one, Martha pointed out the writing. The Doctor read the looping, feminine script aloud:
Sorry to hear about the failure of your nuptial arrangement, but I think you'll find this arrangement much more fulfilling.
Love, River
PS- Hope you don't mind if I skip ahead to the fun part.
The Doctor snapped the book shut with finality. As far as he was concerned, all bases had been covered: Martha was here and they were in love, River was wherever she was and they were in love, and apparently his two loves were very well acquainted- given the tone of River's message. There was no more conversation to be had on the matter.
"This is bloody ridiculous." Amy muttered, her anger finally giving way to her hunger. Eventually, she even conceded that Martha's cooking "wasn't terrible". Given how the morning started, Martha saw this as progress.
She and Rory talked modern medicine and all of the aliens she'd operated on before he and Amy left the room. That left only her and the Doctor in the kitchen.
"So, your wife, huh?" Martha said, gathering the dirty dishes and running warm water in the sink.
"Yeah, long story." He said, coming to her side to dry the wet plate that she handed him. It was all a bit domestic, and more than a bit unnecessary, he thought. The TARDIS would take care of the dishes, but he went along anyway. "A long story that you will know in its entirety one day. We can talk about it later. Besides, it would seem that you and my wife get along quite well." He added with a smirk.
She turned to him with her hands still wet and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes, it would seem." She tossed a sexy smirk back at him. "Can't wait to meet her."
"Well, unfortunately, while she can skip ahead to the fun part," he said, pulling her close, pressing his body against hers. "We have to take the scenic route."
"Well then. We might as well have some fun on the way!" Martha giggled as he lifted her onto the counter. As their lips met, the world melted away.
