A/N: This is a serious M. Characters are property of the BBC, plot is mine.
Martha said goodbye to her mother and clicked her phone closed. She tossed her mobile onto her bed and was just about to pull off her grimy shirt when she heard a knock at her door.
"Martha? May I speak to you for a minute?" The Doctor waited outside. He was desperately hoping Martha was alone.
Martha opened her door. "What is it?"
The Doctor let out a relieved sigh, seeing beyond Martha and into her otherwise unoccupied room. Even so, the subject at hand wasn't a pleasant one.
"Erm…I don't know how to say this…" He reached around to scratch the back of his neck, as if he could find some courage there.
"What's wrong Doctor?"
"Martha, I know you're very fond of Riley Vashtee and well, it would be, um, very bad, if you, well, if you were to become pregnant on the TARDIS." The last few words tumbled out together.
Martha's eyes grew wide at the suggestion. But the sight of a flustered and now red-faced Doctor drew out a chuckle.
"Seriously Doctor, what kind of girl do you think I am?" She joked, but he didn't catch it.
"Oh. I didn't mean to suggest, that is, I just wanted to be sure that, well, you know…"
"Right…"
"That is to say, I don't know where this is going, but if it were to go there, here, on the TARDIS, as it were…"
Martha was letting the Doctor stumble over his own mouth and enjoying every second. "Uh-huh?"
"Just, be careful, Martha, OK?"
"I'll be fine, Doctor, really." She reached up to hug him. "I'm a big girl."
"Right. Right." The Doctor let himself be hugged and was silently glad the conversation seemed to be over. "Off you go, then."
Martha released the Doctor. "Get cleaned up and take us somewhere nice to eat, yeah?"
"Yeah." The Doctor strode off down the corridor as Martha closed her door.
Riley Vashtee had not had a proper shower in over a year. Which is not so say he never bathed, but the dry chemical baths provided on cargo ships just weren't the same. His bathroom had the same coppery glow as the rest of the TARDIS. The walls seemed to radiate heat, even as the water grew hotter at his command. Dispensers on the wall provided soap and shampoo, which produced unbelievably soft foam. He spent nearly half an hour scrubbing away normal oil and dirt and sweat after peeling away a film of fear-induced grime. The TARDIS welcomed this new stranger. As Riley stepped out of the shower he found a razor and a bottle of what appeared to be shaving cream on top of the most humongous bath towel he had ever seen. It was police-box blue and more plush that he thought a man would enjoy. But as he wrapped it around himself, the last of the fear and stress drained from him and he felt at home.
The TARDIS had left him a clean set of clothes much like the ones he had come onto the ship with. She had added to the trousers, jumper and short leather boots a cabled cardigan with leather elbow patches. Riley gave the sweater a laugh, but tried it on anyway. He was quite pleased with the look.
A freshly shaved Riley Vashtee knocked on Martha's door, feeling every bit like a boy on his first date.
Martha looked like a bright, new penny in a sparkly copper tank, jeans, and (more sensible) copper flats. "Well, hey handsome! The TARDIS knows your style!" Martha gave Riley an approving once-over as he blushed furiously.
"Not too bad yourself!" He offered his arm to Martha. "Escort me to the control room?"
Martha curtsied. "Gladly. I'm starving!" She looped her arm through Riley's and led him back through the maze of corridors to the control room.
They sat in a 21st Century roadhouse-style restaurant somewhere in the Western United States. Their plates were clean and their bellies full, and the Doctor had taken liberties with the jukebox with his sonic screwdriver. While he chatted up the bartender, Riley had pulled Martha onto the tiny piece of parquet that served as a dance floor. The smell of smoke and whiskey filled the air, but all Riley could smell was Martha's clean skin, so clean and close to his own. They danced, pressed hip to hip, and even though the bar was like nothing Riley had ever seen, his eyes were glued to the woman in front of him.
From afar, the Doctor watched, a protective eye on Martha. So many times he had pushed away the notion that she felt more for him than he felt for her, and he was both relieved that she had a place for her affection now and more than a little jealous. After finishing their meal, Martha and Riley had all but forgotten him. He had saved their lives, but it was Riley who had kept Martha from panicking, Riley who had held her when the fear of death threatened to pull her under. And then Martha had saved his life. He was still more than a little haunted by the feeling of pure rage, of being possessed. He had confessed being scared less than a dozen times in his long, long life, and the woman he had confessed to was now wrapped in some other man's arms. But, who was he kidding? It wasn't Martha he wanted to be on that dance floor with, swaying to some hokey American country song piped through Radio Shack speakers from a broken jukebox. No, she was far, far away. So far, he would have to punch a hole in the fabric of the universe to dance with her.
Riley was next to the Doctor, sitting down on a cracked leather barstool and startling the Doctor out of his reverie. "Ohhh…" Riley sighed as Martha walked out of view toward the Ladies', "Thank you Doctor. For taking me on." Riley slapped the Doctor on the back.
"Always glad to have another aboard!" The two men sat in amicable silence for a moment.
"Um…" Riley rubbed his chin and began, but then stopped himself, nervous.
"I'm not her dad, Riley Vashtee." The Doctor leaned over and spoke quietly, conspiratorially.
"No, right." Riley chuckled. "So, uh, do ya mind if we dock here for the night? There's rooms just up the road." He rubbed his neck and met the Doctor's eyes with a blush.
For a moment, they were just two blokes, mates working out the logistics of privacy.
"Say no more!" The Doctor drained his glass and hopped off the barstool. "Meet me back at the TARDIS at, well, shall we say 24 hours?"
Riley lifted an eyebrow as if to say "Really?"
"Consider it shore leave." The Doctor slapped Riley on the shoulder and left the bar with a swish of his coat and a grin on his face.
Martha came back from the Ladies' with lip gloss freshly applied. "Where's the Doctor gone to?" She surveyed the crowd, almost afraid he may have found a dance partner.
"We've got shore leave." Riley pulled Martha to him by the belt loops of her jeans, bringing her body between his thighs. Martha's lips smiled into his as he kissed her. She let him taste her as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer, her arms closing around his neck, hands in his hair.
A sharp rap of a shot glass on the bar by the bartender broke their kiss. "None of that here – we're not too fond'a mixin in these parts."
Indeed, a look around the bar found scowling faces turned their way and disgusted looks tempered their growing passion.
"Lets find that motel." Martha took Riley's hand and quickly led him out of the bar.
The night was blessedly cool compared to the smoky bar. Riley helped Martha pull on his sweater and while he was glad to keep her warm, he was equally disappointed to lose sight of her gorgeous skin.
Luckily, the spotty teenager at the motel was too busy watching WWF Wrestling on the blurry television in the lobby to care what race they were and gave them a room key without a second glance.
Once in the room, Riley had Martha against the door as soon as it closed. He was a man who hadn't been with a woman in over a year, and with a woman whom he had just spent the worst hour of his life. He was overcome with relief and with need. His mouth was on her neck, her lips, her face, with fevered kisses and gentle nips. Martha could do nothing but grip his biceps and hold on. He pressed himself against her, and she could feel his desire against her belly.
Riley pulled away abruptly, and pulled his sweater and Martha's shirt off her in one practiced movement. Martha didn't have time to be surprised or to be self conscious; Riley was pulling off his own shirt before hers even hit the ground. There was only the bulb from the bathroom giving a soft yellow glow to the room, gracing their forms in a play of light and shadow.
Taking Martha's hand, he pulled her with him as he backed into the bed and sat. She stood above him in jeans and a sheer bra, her perfect breasts right at eye level. He gazed up at her with reverence before burying his face between her breasts, strong hands pressing against her back to bring her closer. Martha could only anchor herself by grabbing his hair, letting her head fall back. She felt his lips and teeth and tongue taste her, map the swell of her breasts and worry her nipples into hard points, begging to be free of her undergarments. Martha reached back and unclasped her bra, eliciting a low moan from Riley as it fell away from her skin.
He pulled her down into a deep, desperate kiss, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth as he slid his hands down her back and into the waistband of her jeans. His forearms pressed down on the denim and the jeans slid down her hips without reluctance. Gravity took them and Riley could hold the perfect globes of Martha's ass in each of his hands, kneading them as she ran her hands down his chest. Riley was no stranger to hard labor and the lean muscle beneath Martha's hands was evidence of a life of physical work.
Martha squeaked and let out a giggle as Riley's hands moved down the back of her legs. She broke their kiss with a smile and he looked up at her to watch her face as his fingers found the soft flesh between her thighs. Martha's breath caught in her throat as he touched her. He brought a hand across her hip and kissed her navel, his fingers exploring her from both sides. He caught her when her knees buckled, his fingers dipping inside her in the most delicious manner.
Riley pulled Martha down onto the bed with him, where they sunk into the unfamiliar sheets together. She was nude beneath him, though she could feel his erection through his jeans. She wrapped her legs around one of his and pressed her aching body onto his thigh. She groaned with regret as he stood up at the foot of the bed and quickly removed his jeans. For a moment he looked down at the woman before him. Riley was in a fog of desire, but for a moment his head cleared as he drank in the sight of Martha: her chest heaved as she sought to catch her breath, her dark skin molded to the perfect muscles of her legs. Her hands rested on the flat expanse of skin that was her belly, her navel still wet from his tongue.
Martha's heart was racing as she watched Riley at the end of the bed. His broad shoulders and muscular hips were all she could see in the light from the other room. She was trembling with anticipation as he watched her in that moment. He shifted and she saw him lick his lips as he stroked himself.
"You are so beautiful Martha." His words were a low growl in his throat as he came to her. He kissed her with renewed passion, letting her wrap her legs around him. Their hands sought to memorize those places on each other that would elicit moans and caught breaths.
As Riley took Martha's earlobe in his teeth, she begged in earnest, "Please…"
He had to stop himself from going too far too fast. Until then, he had no idea whether he was the first or the fifteenth, but as he entered her, he knew there had not been many men in Martha Jones' life. Only inches within her, he stopped to breathe, pressing his forehead against hers. But Martha pushed her tongue into his mouth and lifted her hips, and he could only respond by entering her fully. She gasped into his mouth and gripped his shoulders, toes curling as she brought her legs up around his waist.
Their rhythm brought beads of sweat to their brows and Riley licked the perspiration off of Martha's neck. He could taste the salt of her skin on her lips and her ankles slipped off his hips as he moved faster. Martha's breath became moans and incoherent cries as she tried to form words that wouldn't come. It was Riley's fingers that inadvertently brushed across her anus as he lifted her thigh that sent her over the edge. He felt her begin to writhe beneath him and turned to watch her face. The complete ecstasy on her features brought Riley to his own end, pressing his face into her neck as he cried out.
Breathing as if they had just run for their lives, Riley propped himself up and looked into Martha's eyes. A beautiful smile spread over her face and he mirrored it. A satisfied giggle turned into a laugh and they collapsed in a fit, barely breathing. Riley rolled off to one side and pulled Martha along with him, so she lay draped over him. They regained their composure and without a word, Martha reached down to pull the duvet around them. Within the safety of a nameless motel in Nevada, their bodies satisfied and bellies full, they slept.
A/N: I don't know if this will grow into a longer story - its hard to write for a silent audience. Please R/R, especially if you want to read more!