The final chapter, everyone, and I think the coup de grâce, the moment we've all been waiting for...

Our heroes have ditched the phone, and decided to play out the movies in their minds as live theatre! Heh heh. But the Doctor promised to walk her through a fantasy of his, and Martha still wants to hear what he has to say. His phone manner wasn't doing it for either of them, so... here we go!

Thanks to everyone who has been reading and commenting... I don't get a lot of attention anymore (not that I ever got a whole lot with this pairing!) so it makes my day when there's interest. Thanks, and...

...enjoy! And fair warning: NSFW.

PART SEVEN

The kiss alone might have been enough to make her swoon a bit.

But then there was the talking, the intimacy, the memory of what they had shared the previous evening, the silent TARDIS, the out-on-a-limb way he had offered himself and told her what he needed. And, his taking of her hand to lead her into the blue box…

She had been in total control twenty-four hours ago. And now, she was drowning.

But that was all right with her.

She had felt she was drowning a lot of the time when she'd travelled with the Doctor. At least this time, there was a prospect for the future.

"You won't miss any words," he had promised her, now that talk had turned to touch.

She had understood. She had her fantasies, and he had his. "You just have conditions for saying what needs saying."

"I have," he had confirmed, before bringing her, once more, aboard.

Still holding her hand, he went straight for the controls.

"What're you doing?" she asked, as she could not hear the TARDIS' usual grinding noise.

"Moving us," he said. "I said it was in poor taste to stay in your parents' house, and I meant it."

"They're going to freak out if they can't find me in the morning," she said.

"Hello? Time machine," he reminded her. "Also, it's only what? One a.m.?"

"Yeah, but I know how things… you know, escalate with you."

He smirked. "You think you know."

She smirked back. "Cheek."

Martha had thought it might be best if she retired to her old bedroom in the TARDIS, given how the Doctor had described the movie in his mind. If they were to execute the "live theatre" version, this was a good place to start.

And when she lay down between the cool purple sheets and took in the scent, it felt as though she had never left. It had been over a year since last she had slept here, but the room had been comfy enough to her for this to feel like a homecoming. It was, of course, the same dim lavender-tinted night-light to complement the dark, the same waist-high bookshelves lining the circular room. The same white carpet, the same roundels accenting the walls…

What was different was the nervousness, the butterflies in her stomach. The anticipation and excitement. And somewhere in the small, dark corners of her mind, horrible wondering whether now she was here, things would fall back into their old pattern…

Worse yet, that she was just now waking up from a dream. She was still in the TARDIS, living with the Doctor, and the last three nights had been another in the hopeful parade of nocturnal fantasies.

She lay there for about a half-hour, having these thoughts, turning them over in her mind, when she heard the doorknob being handled from the outside.

The Doctor stepped into the room and shut the door softly behind him. She couldn't help noticing that he had swapped out his tailored pinstripes for loose-fitting pyjama trousers.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he said back.

"I'm not asleep," she told him, still lying on her back, in the middle of the bed.

"I honestly didn't think you would be."

She now sat up and looked at him with wonder, asking him with her eyes what he had in store for her.

In his mind, it was just enough quizzicality to make him feel as though the moment was real, she was real, but also that the fantasy was coming alive. He didn't expect her to follow a script or anything, or pretend to be back in that time, just after the Pentallian. But he appreciated the slightly nonplussed expectation in her gaze.

He sat down beside her on the bed. At first, he gazed back at her. He opened his mouth to speak, then stopped, and dropped eye-contact.

"Is everything all right, Doctor?" she asked, unsure whether this was a character she was playing, or herself in the here and now.

"There really are some things I need to tell you, Martha," he said, still staring at the floor.

"Well, you will," she said.

"It's harrowing to think of how often I nearly die," he said. "Which is why say so little about it."

"I get that."

"But the impossibility of it is that, it's a little embarrassing to think of how often I almost die, and how little I say about it. I want to fill my life with people and experiences, but when it comes down to it, I only truly open myself up to the experiences."

"Well-put, Doctor."

"That has to be different in the future," he said, and then quite suddenly, he switched his gaze back to her, and she could see that something had definitely changed in his eyes. "It has to, Martha, because I'm feeling something different in my veins tonight. Something's got inside me... different kind of fire."

"You don't say."

He reached out and took both jaws in his hands once again, and said, "What you and I have been through, there's no going back."

"I don't think there is, no."

"And yet, there's so much to say before we can go forward," he said, not taking his hands off her.

She draped one of her hands on his wrist and said, "I know it's hard for you to say what you need to say, and really talk about things. But I want to hear it. So, what do you need from me, Doctor?"

She knew the answer, of course, and it made her whole body vibrate for a few moments.

He pulled her in hard for another kiss, a deep one. This time, he gave the visceral groan befitting a man who was relatively certain he was about to get what he wanted.

She locked her hands on his upper arms, and began to pull him backward (forward for him), and next she knew, she was on her back and he was on top of her. His tongue now probed her mouth, and she let it. She was dying to let it.

"You're going to make this easy on me, aren't you?" he asked her, pulling away after a full, delicious minute.

"Yes," she whispered. He buried his mouth against the tenderest part of her neck, and began to suck and lick gently. A jolt surged through her, and she involuntarily spread her legs beneath his weight, and pressed against him with her pelvis as her back arched. In the haze of the moment, she managed to moan the words, "Shamefully easy."

"Mm, can I confess something?" he asked, in a bit of a haze himself, now moving his way down her neck toward her chin.

"Of course," she answered, breathlessly.

Nipping and kissing down the front of her neck, he said, "This is why I couldn't speak, couldn't describe how I imagined getting from waking you up, all the way to fucking you."

"Because it was so easy," she mused, and it wasn't a question. "So bloody easy for you to just have me?"

"Yes," he breathed, licking his way across her clavicle. "In my movie, you wanted it so much that your body just… gave in. Melted, almost. And then I was just immersed… in you. In your desire, like a cloud. Like warm syrup."

"Warm syrup…" she sighed as she felt him push her flimsy pyjama top up toward her head. She wriggled and lifted herself a little bit, and allowed him to take it off and throw it aside.

"Moment-to-moment became meaningless," he told her, kissing the divot between her breasts. "Every move, every sigh, every moan, every surge of desire…"

His lips closed around one of her nipples, and she gave a moan and felt a swell of desire. "…it all became part of the same warm, syrupy moment… ohhhh…" she panted. His tongue was teasing at her, lust was rising like lava.

"Yes," he repeated. "And so you can see how it would be hard to describe with words, unless I had the sensations of that warm liquid, right at my fingertips."

And that was when his fingertips found warm liquid, just there, between her legs. They had crawled inside the leg of her shorts, and now they were exploring her slippery folds, marveling at how very, very warm and wet she was.

Her head swam. "See? So easy," she managed to say.

He bit her earlobe softly and whispered, "Anti-clockwise, yes? That's how you do it? How I did it in your mind?"

"Yes, please," she responded, barely able to keep a grip on reality. "Two fingers. Start slow."

He settled his index and middle finger against her clit, and began to make small circles in an anti-clockwise direction. Immediately, she began to moan, and her body began to squirm.

"Now I have the words," he said. "You're so easy to ply, such a warm, syrupy cloud… but this… this moment… is…"

"Yes," she managed, after a moment. It could have been an indicator of climbing passion, or that she was curious about what he would say next.

He kissed her shoulder and neck. "This moment is firm and vivid. You're wet. Wanting. I press against you and you writhe like a ribbon on water."

"Keep talking."

"And I really, really want to push inside you again and again, but I can't resist this," he whispered intimately in her ear, moving his fingers as she had fantasised about, manipulating her body with zero difficulty. "Can't resist this little preamble. Because I know you're so easy for me, that you'll come if I touch you… so I touch you…"

As punctuation, he spun his fingers fast over the center of her clit, and she cried out in surprise, and desperation, but not yet in orgasm.

He was seeing to that.

And now he watched her, resuming slow circles. "So I touch you just so, and watch… I watch…"

"Watch me…"

"I watch you, and I gloat just a little bit."

"You should," she panted.

"But every second, you get closer, and we both fall a little deeper…" He increased the speed of his finger circles, and she bit her lip. He smiled knowingly at this small gesture. "Sinking, Martha. I'm sinking into you."

"Good, yes…" she said, getting closer to the end.

"Can you feel the immersion happening? The warm syrup? The cloud?"

"Yes! Stop stalling!" she demanded, now pulling fistfuls of sheet, toes curling, back arching. "Just make me come, so you can have me!"

He smiled. "And you beg. That's gorgeous," he said.

"It will be effortless… just… just…"

So he increased his speed one more time, and she cried out, bursting, coming with force. Her hand gripped his wrist, digging her fingernails in. She clamped her legs together reflexively and gave a deep, guttural moan that nearly pushed the Doctor involuntarily into the next phase of the evening.

She shuddered and moaned a long time, it seemed, and the Doctor relished every languid, vibrating moment.

At last, she opened her eyes and smiled. "So, now you know how to get from waking me up, to..."

He didn't let her finish. He just rolled over on top of her, plunging his tongue into her mouth with a hearty groan, and a muffled expletive.

She never felt nor saw him remove his trousers or even push them down, but the next thing she knew, he was inside of her, with a hard thrust that jostled her to her core. But he'd done it so, so easily. And now he was gloriously fucking her, taking advantage of the warmth and the wet and the haze that enveloped them both.

She was still swollen and sensitive from the perfect, seismic orgasm he had given her. And so, every push forward from him sent shockwaves through her, pleasure that all but made her eyes roll back in her head and slurred her thoughts and words.

And yet she heard him when he said, "Martha, I've died so many times."

"I know," she said, leaning her head back and letting herself be shoved hard, over and over. "Tell me…"

"Nine… ten times… I've lost count," he said. "And just about every day, I almost die again. This is my life."

"Oh, Doctor…"

"I need to start..."

"Start?"

"Start living every day. I want experiences and people," he panted. He leaned down and began to suck and lick and kiss her neck. "Sensations… and love."

"Yes… sensations and love. I'll give you both."

"I know you will." He did not stop thrusting, and in between licks and kisses, he said, "Because you're amazing. And you're a powderkeg!"

"And because love you so goddamn much," she breathed. "It hurts."

"And yet regeneration... it... oh, can change everything."

"Mm?"

"I'm sorry. For... for not talking about it before."

"It's all right," she said, closing her eyes tight. "I'm going to love you no matter what! I'm going to want to be with you. I'm going to be at your side until you tell me not to."

"Good, yes..."

"I'm going to love you… I'm going to… oh, Doctor, I'm going to..."

"I can feel what you're going to do," he told her, smugly, now looking down at her. "Do it, then. Come on…"

Her whole body tightened one more time, and a second orgasm slammed through her, harder than the first one. She gave three short cries of "oh!" before her body relaxed, and he slowed a bit, to give her a moment to catch her breath.

She gave a long sigh, then said, "It doesn't matter, Doctor. Talk to me about regeneration, or don't. Regenerate, or don't. It couldn't make me love you less."

He resumed his body's needy forward motions, and once again, rained kisses all over her face and neck. "You can't know that. It's a shock, Martha. Such a shock to the system."

"Shock... yes..." she barely said, being shocked over and over just now.

"To me... and anyone I'm with."

"Then let's live in the now," she said, trying to keep her voice steady while her sensitive nether regions got pounded again. "Just love me as you are."

"I am," he panted. "I do."

"Mmm, good," she moaned. "Tell me again."

"I love you," he said. "I couldn't not. I've tried, but…"

"Good," she repeated. "Is this what you wanted? Confessing everything while you fuck me into some sort of oblivion?"

"Yes," he said, his voice beginning to strain. "Since the Pentallian. So much to say, but nothing... about me... is calm."

"Because saving me that day made you burn, and you're burning now."

"Yes, burning… Martha… oh…"

"I can feel you burning. I can feel you getting hot. Everything tensing, rising… and that means this is almost over for now, doesn't it?"

"I think… yes, it's almost over…" he strained.

"Then, if this is what you've wanted all this time, then look me in the eyes and say it again."

He leaned on his elbows and looked down at her. "You're beautiful," he said, thrusting still, giving her body everything he had. And indeed, it was almost over.

She took his head in her hands. "So are you."

"Beautiful, amazing, brilliant, and…" he took a deep breath and held it. "…and I love you."

With that, he dropped his forehead down onto hers, and groaned from somewhere deep within. She kept her grip on him, and watched his face contort as he clawed at the pillow under her head and came inside of her. He gave his last few hard shoves, and she could feel spasms rising and falling as he released, gave her all…

… and then he bit his lip, closed his eyes, and seemed to relax.

She curled her arms around him, and pulled him down for a hug. He laughed and tried awkwardly to return the gesture.

"No going back now," she said.

"No way."

EPILOGUE:

The TARDIS silently reappeared in her bedroom in her parents' house – it was now 6:45 a.m. They stepped out of the box, and could hear the shower going, and smell coffee.

"We're late," she said, though she knew that he already knew.

"Yeah, sorry," he sighed. "Well, maybe not. Maybe it'll just be a very close call."

She walked over to the door and pressed her ear against it. "I can hear the coffee maker still going. It means they've been up less than ten minutes. They probably haven't noticed me gone yet," she whispered.

"Well, that's lucky."

"We shouldn't have had that second go," she scolded, still softly. "Without that, we might've stayed awake and not missed our 5:30 return time."

"Aw, it was inevitable," he said, with a little smirk. "Staying awake would have meant more of that, which would have meant… well, sleep. It's another catch-22."

"Martha?" she heard from outside the door. It was her father's voice. "You okay?"

"Yes, why?" she called back, her heart pounding.

The Doctor pulled a yikes face.

"Well, nothing… er, I thought I heard someone else's voice in there," her dad said.

Martha smacked the Doctor's arm. "No, I've just got the radio on, dad," she replied.

"Okay," her dad said. "Coffee's on, if you want some."

"Great, I'll be down in a few minutes."

She walked across the room and turned on the radio. It was playing a non-descript pop song that she didn't like, but at least it drowned out the rest of the conversation.

"So now what?" the Doctor asked.

"Well, today's Saturday, so…"

"Really? And everyone's up before seven?"

"Yeah… Joneses are go-getters. It's a thing. Anyway, it means no-one is going to work, so I'll have most of the day to work them up to… you know…"

"To what?"

"To telling them."

"Oh… right."

"You do want me to tell them, yes?" she asked. "If this is going to happen, then it can't be a secret. Not anymore."

"I do want you to tell them," he said. "I just don't fancy what I reckon will be the response."

"Well, it won't be anything you haven't heard before," Martha shrugged. "From mum anyway. Hopefully she won't smack you around again, though."

"Yeah, wasn't a fan of that," he said, nevertheless chuckling.

"Just go about your life," she said. "And I'll phone you later. Either with an invitation to dinner, or… not."

"Okay," he said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. "Just FYI, going about my business might be sitting in a coffee shop in Soho, people-watching. I don't want to leave this place and time without you. No telling what could happen."

She smiled. "I appreciate that. One way or another, I'll probably want you to come back and pick me up this evening."

He gave a little salute, then stepped into the TARDIS. Before he shut the door, he said, rather casually, "Love you. See you later."

As the box silently disappeared, she smiled widely.

It was going to be an interesting day.

But brilliant.

That's all, folks. Thanks so much for reading!

And... yes, please leave a review! I'm so looking forward to hearing your thoughts!

Be well, my friends!